A Feast Unknown

“Doc and Trish fell in love. Doc told her all. Despite his moral prohibitions, he went to bed with her.

She could take him, but it hurt her. She’s a big girl with a small cunt, or so she said. Then Doc did a strange thing ...”

“I saw that little Oriental greet him when he went into his house,” I said. “She was very little.”

I had not paid too much attention to her last few sentences. I had been thinking about his cousin and his accusations that I had murdered her. No wonder he hated me. But why did he think I had killed her?

“That’s Patani. I hate her! She’s so exquisite, so tiny and dainty. Don’t worry. She won’t try to take him into her cunt. She’s a compulsive cocksucker. That’s why she and Doc always get together when they’re here.”

She played with my penis for a while and then sucked on it a while. Again, it failed to respond. She said, “Have you really become impotent? No, that can’t be so. You were crossing cocks with Doc, like

Robin Hood and Little John with their quarter-staffs on the bridge. Say! You haven’t gone fairy, have you?”

I said, “No.”

There was no use trying to explain something I did not understand myself. If I told her I could get an enormous erection and jet all over her if I killed her, I would have frightened her. Or at least made her uneasy. Few of those admitted to the caves frighten without great cause.

She asked me if I would at least take the edge off of her, and I said I would. There were plenty of other men who would have done more for her, and so I felt complimented that she would prefer less with me than more with others. I used two fingers on her until she had a number of orgasms, and I also rammed her with my tongue until she had a dozen more orgasms. Aside from my wife, Clara had the sweetest vagina I’ve ever tasted.

I felt excited but it was a numb excitement.

Clara kissed me—she seemed to enjoy the taste of her own cunt—and left me.

24

I know that many of the aficionados of the romances about me will be shocked by what Clara and I did.

Even outraged. My “biographer” has depicted me as a man of absolutely unyielding morality. According to him, I remained unswervingly chaste and faithful to my wife when being tempted by very beautiful and passionate young women after I’d gone through long periods of continence. Many aficionados of these romances firmly believe the accounts of my superhuman—or neurotic—moral behavior. Perhaps they like to believe in a man who has the strength they lack.

On the other hand, many readers scoff at this attitude. They deny that any well-sexed man could resist such beauty under such conditions. Even the Victorians were not that Victorian.

The strange thing about this is that my biographer did not exaggerate or lie. When I got married (I knew little as yet of human customs), I gave my word I would be faithful to my wife. She elaborated on this after the ceremony and made me swear again that I would bed no other woman as long as we lived.

We did not know then, of course, about the Nine or the elixir. I understood her attitude and what she required because The Folk have a similar attitude. However, among The Folk, a male can have more than one wife at a time. And divorce is easy for both male and female.

There have been long periods when I was roaming the jungle or off on some expedition or other or on some mission for the Nine, and I did not see my wife. At these times, I have masturbated. Or, for several years, in the jungle, I took along a pet, a beautiful female leopard. This was never written into his romances by my biographer. In fact, he never heard of it because I never told him. I liked him very much and did not want to offend him or to shatter his image of me any more than it had been by previous disclosures. He was one of the few really likeable humans I have known.

I fell in love with Kuta in an unconventional ma

I did not feel that I was breaking my vow by masturbating or by mounting Kuta. That vow only included human females. And certainly Clio would not be jealous of a leopardess. Or she shouldn’t be. I did not, however, say anything about Kuta until after she deserted me. Clio and I were in our London house celebrating our 7th wedding a

November 21, 1920. We had been drinking champagne, and that was a mistake because I drink so seldom that a little, alcohol quickly uninhibits me. I told her about Kuta and so had to endure several hours of tears and verbal abuse. I finally managed to convince her that I had not been really unfaithful or committed a terrible crime against Nature. As far as I was concerned, the only crime against Nature was against my nature, which suffers when I don’t have a frequent discharge of sexual energy. In other words, if I don’t come at least six times a week, I get nervous and mean.

She forgave me, or said she did, and she is very open and truthful, within limits. She forgave me because I had been raised by The Folk and so was not fully responsible for my “uncivilized” behavior. I said I took full responsibility, and my behavior could be justified far more by logic than hers could be. She ignored this and said that I must promise not to do any such thing again. Not only were humans off-limits, so were animals, no matter how beautiful and cooperative.

I asked her if that included “jacking off.” She was startled and, also, red-faced. I told her about my masturbations. I was so “natural” about it, I suppose, that she overcame her inhibitions about it. After a few more glasses of bubbly, she confessed that she masturbated, too, when I had been away for a long time. It took much courage for her to tell me this. She came from an upper middle-class Southern family with a puritanical Protestant background. In addition, her black “mammy,” who had raised her since she was six, was a very strict Southern Baptist. Despite which, Clio managed to grow into a passionate notparticularly-

prudish young woman with a tendency for what humans call “sexual experimentation.” And she was able to free herself of those crippling conditioned reflexes that humans call racial prejudices. At least, as much as any North American white is able.

(I digress. But I tell my story as I wish. Moreover, the reader won’t understand me or those I love if he doesn’t see us three-dimensionally.)

Clio and I freely discussed our masturbations and the accompanying fantasies. She even made a joke about the size of the banana she needed to satisfy herself with after having had me for 7 years.

This vow of fidelity did not hold during a part of the year. It was suspended for whoever was attending the ceremonies in the caverns of the Nine. When we accepted the elixir of prolonged youth, we also had to accept certain conditions laid down by the Nine. We spoke once about it and after that ignored the subject. We had agreed that the elixir could not be purchased without a very high price.

Nothing comes free. The price was worth it, or so we thought at the time. I had my doubts now and then, but they were not powerful.

Clara interrupted my thoughts by returning. She said, “I just ran into the little Thai. She was very upset. She said she felt repulsed by Doc. He looked so absolutely evil to her. Something has happened to him. He is not the same Doc she has known for so many years. So she just walked out on him.”