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Updated: May 19, 2025


As soon as we were all assembled, stripping to the buff was the order of the night; then followed charming embraces and mutual posings, so as each should admire the beauties of all. Hands wandered everywhere over every charm, chiefly concentrating on the wonderful and finely developed form of the fascinating Frank-land, whose richness of coal-black hair was so deliciously exciting.

With more abandon we both sank in the death-like ecstasies of the delicious melting away in all the luxury of contented and voluptuous discharges. Miss Frank-land lay for some short time luxuriously closing in my delighted prick, but raising her body, she said "Charles, we must cease for the present."

I should naturally, when in London, have every opportunity of enjoying that adorable creature, and it will be seen in the fourth volume of these memoirs, to what delicious orgies this connection led. You may be sure that my loved mistress, the adorable Benson, and the no less lascivious Egerton, would welcome so glorious a creature as Miss Frank-land, at that time become Mrs.

This led me to think that Miss Frank-land was herself rendered lecherous by the action of even wielding the rod. Lizzie during the whole of the next week did nothing but rave of the excessive excitement that her whipping had put her into, and the extreme felicity she felt in having her salacious lechery satisfied.

In fact, we all indulged rather too freely, if I may judge from the fact that, at least to Miss Frankland and myself, the rod had almost become a necessity, and occasionally even my sisters admitted it gave them a fillip. Under the able tutorship of Miss Frank-land we became the most perfect adepts in every voluptuous indulgence of lubricity.

Mamma was rather struck with the style of letter, and the unusual demand of previous acquaintance before entering into final arrangements. So she wrote to Miss Frank-land, begging her to come and spend three days with us, and if her visit should prove as agreeable to both as her letter had done to mamma, she had no doubt matters might be arranged to their mutual satisfaction.

The whole scene of the tragic events is laid in the Rhinelands, where the killing of the Worm also takes place. On a hill in Frank-land Sigurd frees Brynhild from the magic slumber into which Odin had thrown her on a rock of punishment, because she, as a Valkyr, or shield-maiden of his, had brought about the death of a Gothic king to whom the god of battle had promised victory.

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