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"The Life and Amours of the Beautiful, Gay and Dashing Kate Percival" is a classic American erotic novel, published in 1903. It contains graphic sexual descriptions and themes. "I am about to do a bold thing. I am about to give to the world the particulars of a life fraught with incident and adventure. I am about to lift the veil from the most voluptuous scenes. I shall disguise nothing, conceal nothing, but shall relate everything that has happened to me just as it occurred. I am what is called a woman of pleasure, and have drained its cup to the very dregs. I have the most extraordinary scenes to depict, but although I shall place everything before the reader in the most explicit language, I shall be careful not to wound his or her sense of decency by the use of coarse words, feeling satisfied there is more charm in a story decently told than in the bold unblushing use of term which ought never to sully a woman’s lips."
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The Life and Amours of the Beautiful, Gay and Dashing Kate Percival 1883AnonymousThis ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with.If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy.First edition 2012
I am about to do a bold thing. I am about to give to the world the particulars of a life fraught with incident and adventure. I am about to lift the veil from the most voluptuous scenes. I shall disguise nothing, conceal nothing, but shall relate everything that has happened to me just as it occurred. I am what is called a woman of pleasure, and have drained its cup to the very dregs. I have the most extraordinary scenes to depict, but although I shall place everything before the reader in the most explicit language, I shall be careful not to wound his or her sense of decency by the use of coarse words, feeling satisfied there is more charm in a story decently told than in the bold unblushing use of term which ought never to sully a woman’s lips.
I was born in a small village in the state of Pennsylvania, situated on the banks of the Delaware, and about thirty miles from Philadelphia. My father’s house was most romantically situated within a few yards of the river. It was supported as it were, at the back by a high hill, which, in summer was covered with green trees and bushes. On each side of the dwelling was a wood so dense and thick that a stranger un-acquainted with the paths through it could not enter. In front of the house, the river on sunshiny days gleamed and glistened in the rays of the sun, and the white sails passing and repassing formed quite a picturesque scene. At night, however, especially in the winter time, the scene was different. Then the wind would howl and moan through the leafless trees and the river would beat against the rocks in a most mournful cadence. To this day I can remember the effect it had on my youthful mind, and whenever I hear the wind whistling at night, it always recalls, to my memory my birth place.
My father was a stern, austere man, usually very silent and reserved. I only remembered seeing him excited once or twice. My mother had died in my infancy – (I was but fifteen months at the time) and my father’s sister became his housekeeper. I had but one brother a year older than myself. How well I remember him, a fine noble-hearted boy full of love and affection. We were neglected by our father and aunt, and left to get through our childhood’s days as best we could. We would wander together hand in hand by the river side or in the woods, and often cry ourselves to sleep in each other’s arms at our father’s want of affection for us. We enjoyed none of the gayeties, none of the sports of youth. The chill of our home appeared to follow us wherever we went, and no matter how brightly the sun shone, it could not dissipate the chill around our hearts. I never remember seeing my father even smile. A continual gloom hung over him, and he usually kept himself locked in his room except at meal times.
This life continued until I was ten years of age, when one day my father informed me that the next day I was to go to Philadelphia to a boarding school. At first I was glad to hear it, for any change from the dull monotony of that solitary house must be an agreeable one to me. I ran to the garden to tell my brother; but the moment I mentioned it, Harry threw himself sobbing in my arms.
“Will you leave me, Kate!” he exclaimed, “What will I do when you are gone, I shall be so lonely – so very lonely without you?”
“But Harry, darling,” I returned, “I shall be back again in a few months, and then I shall have so much to tell you, and we shall have such nice walks together.”
I succeeded in calming him, especially as our father informed him before the day was over that he too was to go to a boarding school in the city of Baltimore. That evening we took our last ramble together before we left home. It was the month of June, and all nature was decked in her gayest apparel. It was a beautiful moon-light night, and the hair [sic] was fragrant with the odor of June roses, of which there were a large number in the garden. We wandered by the side of the river and watched the moon rays playing on the surface of the water, while a gentle breeze murmured softly through the pine trees. On that evening we settled our future life. It was arranged between us that when Harry grew up to be a man I should go and keep his house. We dwelt a long time on the pleasures of such life. At last it was time for us to return to the house, we embraced each other tenderly and separated.
The next morning I left very early, and in a few hours reached my destination and was enrolled among the pupils of B.... Seminary, I shall not dwell long on my school days, although I might devote much of space to them. I was not a popular girl in the school – I was too cold, too reserved, and some of the girls said too proud. I took no pleasure in girlish sports, but my chief amusement was reading. I would retire to a corner of the school room and while the other girls were at play – I would be plunged in the mysteries of Mrs. Radcliffs novels, or some other work of the same character. Frequently the Principal insisted on my shutting up my book and going out to play, but I would creep back when she had left the schoolroom, and resume my favorite occupation. I remained at school seven years, and during that time I never once visited home, for my father made a special agreement that I was to spend my vacation at school.
It is strange that, considering the prominent part I had played in the Court of Venus, that up to the age of seventeen, not a single thought concerning the relation of the sexes ever entered my head. I had up to that age never experienced the slightest longing or desire and looked on all men with the utmost indifference. And yet I knew that I was called beautiful and was the envy of all my school fellows.
I have not yet given a description of myself to the reader and it is nothing but right that I should do so. At the age of seventeen my charms were well developed, and although they had not attained the ripe fullness which a few years later was the admiration and delight of all my adorers, still I possessed all the insignia of womanhood. In stature I was above the medium height, my hair was a dark auburn and hung in massive bands on a white neck. My eyes were a deep blue and possessed a languishing voluptuous expression; they were fringed with long silky eyelashes and arched with brows so finely pencilled that I have often been accused of using art to give them their graceful appearance. My features were classically regular, my skin of dazzling whiteness, my shoulders were gracefully rounded and my bust faultless in its contours. My more secret charms I shall describe at some future time when I shall have to expose them to the reader’s gaze.
I have said that up to the age of seventeen I had never experienced the slightest sexual desire. The spark of voluptuousness which has ever since burnt so fiercely in my breast was destined to be lighted up by one of my own sex. Yes, dear Laura, it was you who first taught me the delights and joys of love; it was you who first kindled that flame of desire that has caused me to experience twelve years of delirious bliss; it was to your gentle teaching, sweet friend, that I owe my initiation in all the mysteries of the Court of Venus; it was your soft hand that pointed out to me that path of pleasure – and all the delight shown on the wayside. The incident happened in this manner:
About three months before I left school we were told one morning that a new music and French teacher would take her abode in B – Seminary the next day. We were all extremely anxious to see her, and at the expected hour she made her appearance. Her name was Laura Castleton, and her father lived in St. Mary’s County, Maryland. She was a brunette, about twenty years of age, and one of the most beautiful girls I ever saw. She was nearly as tall as myself, but considerably stouter, and her body was molded in a most exquisite manner. Although her eyes were very black and her hair like the raven’s plume, her skin was as white as alabaster. Her teeth were as regular as if they had been cut of a solid piece of ivory, and her hands and feet were fairylike in their proportions. I was the eldest girl in the school and Laura immediately made me her companion. She was exceedingly intelligent, well educated, and well read. I was soon attracted to her and we became inseparable. We would pass all our spare time reading to each other or in conversation on literary subjects. I agreed to love her with my whole heart, and was never happy outside of her company.
“Laura,” I said to her one day when we were walking on the playground with our arms around each other’s waist, “why can’t we sleep together?”
“Would you like it, Kate?” she asked, bending her black eyes upon my face with a peculiar gloom in them which sent the blood rushing to my cheeks – but why and wherefore I did not know.
“Indeed I would, Laura. It would be so nice to lie in your arms all night.”
“Well, darling, I will ask Mrs. B – . I have no doubt that she will give her consent.”
The lovely girl drew me towards her and gave me a warmer kiss than she had ever before bestowed upon me. The contact of her easy lips to mine sent an indefinable thrill through my body which I had never experienced before. In the evening she informed me that she had spoken to Mrs. B – and that the latter had consented that we should sleep together. I was overjoyed at this news and longed for night to come so that I might recline in my darling’s arms.
At last the hour of bedtime arrived and I followed Laura to her chamber. She put the lamp on the dressing table and, kissing me affectionately, bade me undress myself quickly. We began our toilette for the night. I was undressed first, and having put on my nightgown, I sat down on the side of the bed and watched Laura disrobing herself. After she had removed her dress and her petticoats, I could not help being struck with her resplendent charms. Her chemise had fallen off her shoulder, beautifully rounded, and two globes of alabaster reposing on a field of snow. She appeared to be entirely unaware that I was watching her, for she sat down on a chair exactly in front of me, and crossing one leg over the other, she began to remove her garters and stockings. This attitude raised her chemise in front, and allowed me to have a full view of her magnificently formed limbs. I even caught sight of her voluptuous thighs. Laura caught my eye.
“What are you gazing at so earnestly?” she asked.
“I am gazing at your beauties, Laura.”
“One would think that you were my lover,” returned Laura laughingly.
“So I am, dear – for you know I love you.”
“You little witch you, you know well enough what I mean. But if you want to admire beauty, why not look in the glass, for I am not nearly as beautiful as you are, dear Kate.”
“What nonsense, Laura,” I replied, “but come, let us get into bed.”
So saying, I jumped between the sheets and was followed almost immediately by Laura, who first, however, placed the lamp on a chair by the bedside. She clasped me in her arms and pressed me to her breast, while she kissed my lips, cheek and eyes passionately. The warmth of her embraces and her glowing limbs entwined in mine caused a strange sensation to steal through me. My cheeks burned and I returned her kisses with an ardor that equalled her own.
“How delightful it is to be in your arms, dear Laura,” I exclaimed.
“Do you really like it?” she replied, pressing me still closer to her. At the same time our nightdresses became disarranged, and I felt her naked thighs pressing against mine.
Laura kissed me again with even greater warmth than before, and while she was thus engaged she slipped one of her soft hands in the opening of my night-chemise, and I felt it descend on one of my breasts. When I felt this, a trembling seized my limbs and I pressed her convulsively to my heart.
“What a voluptuous girl you are, Kate,” she said, molding my breasts and titillating my nipples. “You set me on fire.”
“I never felt so happy in my life, Laura. I could live and die in your arms.”
I now carried my hand to her globes of alabaster and pressed and molded them, imitating her in all her actions. Nay, more, I turned down the bedclothes and, unbuttoning her nightdress in front, I exposed those charming, snowy hillocks to my delighted gaze. The light of the lamp shone directly upon them, and I was never tired of admiring the whiteness, firmness and splendid development of those glowing semiglobes. I buried my face between them and pressed a thousand kisses on the soft velvet surface.
“Why Kate, you are a perfect volcano,” said Laura, trembling under my embraces, “and I have been laboring under the delusion that you were an icicle.”
“I was an icicle, darling, but now I have been melted by your charms.”
“What a happy man your husband will be,” said Laura.
“To enfold such a glorious creature as you in his embrace. If you take so much delight with one of your own sex, what will you do when clasped in a man’s arms?”
“You are jesting, Laura. Do you suppose for a moment that I will ever allow a man to kiss and embrace me as you do?”
“Certainly, my love – he will do a great deal more than I do.”
“More? What can you mean?”
“Is it possible, Kate, that you do not know?”
“I really do not know. Do tell me, there’s a dear girl.”
“I can scarcely believe it possible that you are seventeen years of age – a perfectly developed woman, and that you know nothing of the mysteries of love. Are you not aware, darling, that you possess a jewel about you that a man would give half his lifetime to ravish?”
“You speak in riddles, Laura. Where is this jewel?”
“Lie perfectly quiet, and I will show you where it is.”
My cheeks burned and I was all aglow, for I had pretended to be more ignorant than I really was. Laura fastened her lips on my breast and placed her hand on one of my thighs. She then slowly carried it up the marble column and at last invaded the very sanctuary of love itself. When I felt her fingers roaming in the mossy covering of that hallowed spot, every moment growing more bold and enterprising, I could not help uttering a faint scream – it was the last cry of expiring modesty, and I grew as hardy and lascivious as my beautiful companion. I stretched my thighs open to their widest extent, the better to second the examination Laura was making of my person. The lovely girl appeared to be strangely affected while she was manipulating my secret charms. Her eyes shot fire, her bosom heaved, and she began to wiggle her bottom. For some time she played with the hair which thickly covered my mount of Venus – twisting it around her fingers, she then gently divided the folding lips and endeavored to penetrate the interior of the mystical grotto – but she could not effect an entrance but was obliged to satisfy herself with titillating the inside of the lips. Suddenly flows of pleasure shot through my entire body – for her finger had come in contact with the peeping sentinel that guarded the abode of bliss, an article which until that moment I did not know I possessed. She rubbed it gently, giving me the most exquisite pleasure. If the last remnant of prudery had not taken flight before, this last act would have routed it completely. With a single jerk I threw off the bedclothes, and thus we both lay naked from the waist down.
“How magnificently you are formed, dear Kate,” said Laura, examining all my hidden charms with the aid of the lamp. “What glorious thighs, what a delicious bijou, what a thick forest of hair, and what a splendidly developed clitoris. Now, sweet girl, I will make you taste the most delicious sensation you have ever experienced in your life. Let me do with you as I will.”
“Do what you like with me, darling. I resign myself entirely in your hands.”
Laura now commenced to gently rub my clitoris with her finger, while she kissed my breasts and lips passionately. I soon began again to experience the delicious sensation I have spoken of before; rivers of pleasure permeated through my system. My breasts bounded up and down – my buttocks were set in motion from the effect of her caressing finger, my thighs were stretched widely apart, and my whole body was under the exquisite influence of her scientific manipulations. At last the acme came, a convulsive shivering seized me, I gave two or three convulsive heaves with my buttocks, and in an agony of delight I poured down my first tribute to the god of love.
For a quarter of an hour I lay in a complete state of annihilation, and was only recalled from it by the kisses of Laura.
“Darling Kate,” she exclaimed, “you must give me relief or I shall die – the sight of your enjoyment has lighted up such a fire within me that I shall burn up if you do not quench it.”
“I will do my best, dear Laura, to assuage your desires. You have made me experience such unheard-of delight that I should indeed be wanting in gratitude if I were not to attempt to make you some return.”
I rose up and, kneeling across her, began to examine at my ease her lovely Mons Veneris.
It was a glorious object, covered over with a mass of black silky hair, through the midst of which I could discern the plump lips folding close together. I placed my finger between them and felt her clitoris swelling beneath it until it actually peeped its little red head from its soft place of concealment. I now advanced one finger and found that it entered her coral sheath with the utmost ease; at the same time it was tightly grasped by the sensitive folds of her vagina. I began to move it in and out, while I kissed her white belly and thighs.
“Stop, darling,” said Laura, rising up and going to a drawer, “I will contrive something better to bring on the dissolving period. You are rather a novice as yet in the art of procuring enjoyment.”
She took from the drawer a dildo, which she fastened securely around my waist, and making me lie on my back, she leaned over me and guided it into her sensitive quiver. She then commenced to move herself rapidly upon it. It was a delicious sight to me; I could see the instrument entering in and out of her luscious grotto while her features expressed the most entrancing enjoyment and her broad white bottom and breasts shivered with pleasure. Her motions did not continue long, however. In a few minutes she succumbed and the elixir of love poured down her white thighs. The voluptuous sight before me and the rubbing of the dildo on my clitoris caused me to emit again at the same moment that she did, and we both sank exhausted on the bed. I shall not detain the reader with all the exquisite enjoyments I experienced for the next three months in my lessons with the beautiful Laura: suffice it to say that we exhausted every method that two young girls of ardent imagination could propose. At last the time approached for us to separate, and with tears and embraces we bade each other adieu.
I returned home and it was several years before I saw the sweet companion of my school days again.
When I returned home I found my father as gloomy and austere as ever. He welcomed me with a cold kiss and asked me a few questions as to the progress I had made in my studies. My replies did not appear to satisfy him and I had not been home a week before he declared his intention to send me to school again. I was by no means sorry to hear of this resolve, for my brother was finishing his education in New York, and the house was insufferably dull. I was at once dispatched to Mount de Sales, a convent near Baltimore. The inmates of the convent consisted of pupils and nuns – the latter acting as instructresses to the former, assisted by two or three priests.
I had been in the convent a year when we received a new pupil named Margaret Maitland, the daughter of a distinguished lawyer, residing in Baltimore. Margaret was a beautiful girl about my own age. She was rather tall, her eyes and hair were black, while her skin was of a whiteness ravishing to behold.
She was exceedingly religious and spent a great portion of her time in prayer, fasting and vigils. I noticed that she confessed to a Father Clark very frequently and always appeared very happy and contented when she left the confessional. I felt satisfied that there was something going on which partook more of the flesh than the spirit, and I determined to watch.
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