A Study of the Special and Unusual Problems of "Hired Help" Both Male and Female.
A domestic servant, whether a maid, governess, gardener, valet, tutor, riding master or baby-sitter, is more than a mere household employee. Such a person is the possessor of a family trust, often holder of a position of marked influence over the children in the family group. But his or her position is also one of vulnerability, its duration dependent upon the ability to please ...
Two elements of domestic employment readily lend themselves to overt sexual abuse, whether on the part of a perverted household member, or on the part of an aberrant, oversexed domestic whose twisted sexual inclinations went undetected at the time of hiring. As the twig is bent, so is the bough. The parental responsibility to guard children from corrupt influences becomes all the more obvious as the case histories herein unfold; as incidents of lesbianism and nympho mania involving domestics are detailed. But by the same token, a warning to all domestics-the vast majority of whom are first-rate, reliable and law-abiding people-is also levied: that they may avoid the pitfalls of entrapment by a sexually exploitive master or mistress of the household using their services.
FOREWORD
A number of books have been written about the sex problems of the "working girl" or "career woman," and the men with whom she has to deal in her everyday and after-hour's life. Authors and researchers, however, have practically ignored the far more varied, pressing and harassing sexual problems of a vast army of workers who come under the heading of "domestic help."
This book, based upon extensive surveys and the acquisition of extremely frank land sometimes touching case histories, intends to probe the particular and personalized problems of these frequently sexually exploited people. It deals with the personal experiences of men and women engaged in domestic employment. Their types of jobs are many and varied. There is the governess or "nurse maid," the regular maid, the hotel maid, the chauffeur, the private tutor, the music teacher, the home secretary, the "companion," the driving instructor, the house, beach and cabana "boys," the baby sitter, the butler, the-valet and others.
It will deal with their intra-personal relationship with their master, mistress, children and other servants. Nearly all domestic employees have one thing in common which sets them apart from other types of workers: They do not work from nine to five in the cold, impersonal environs of a factory, store, bank or business office. They are employed in the intimate surroundings of a home (and/or in the case of la chauffeur or driving instructor, of an automobile) and frequently they "sleep in," have living quarters either in the home or adjacent to it. They also deal in personal service, sometimes of a very intimate nature.
As defined in The New Funk and Wagnall's Encyclopedia, "Domestic Service" is " a term used to describe the work done in and about the house by servants to provide for the physical comfort of its occupants...."
All too frequently, as we shall see in the main body of this book, the term "physical comfort of its occupants," can mean many things, including almost all varieties of sexual satisfaction.
It should be made clear at this point that most employers of domestic help, particularly in this day and age, do not take advantage of their position to impose their will in a sexual manner. By the same token most of the men and women working in a domestic capacity are of the highest moral standards and would not for one minute put up with any attempted backstairs hijinks.
There are, however, many facets to the situation. Perhaps the wealthy master and mistress of a home that employs servants are of the highest moral caliber. But suppose, unknown to them, their teen-age son is not. Suppose he has a sexual yen for the pretty young maid they've hired? She is in a bad spot. How many times can she fight him off? If she reports him to his parents, it's her word against his. He can not only deny his own guilt, but he can get her fired by saying she's angry at him, trying to get even with him for resisting her torrid advances; that he wouldn't even think of having an affair with a serving girl....
The same situation can work in reverse with the pretty, sex-driven teen-aged daughter of the house, in regard to their virile and handsome chauffeur. The combinations in which this situation could occur are almost limitless.
In Victorian days, as witnessed by the controversial book My Secret Life and others, maid servants as well as female field hands were almost brutally and callously exploited in a sexual manner. Usually, little if any seduction was involved. The poor woman was merely pushed or thrown onto her back, her skirts raised and the assault committed before she hardly knew what was happening. She had little or no recourse. Jobs were hard to find. If she complained, she would promptly be out of work. Such complaints were treated lightly and unfairly by the laws of the times. The same thing applied in the early days of American history when female servants from Europe were frequently under bond. It persisted right up to twenty or thirty years ago when gradually laws were changed, economic conditions improved for domestic help and their almost slave-like status greatly changed.
Today, there are rigid laws governing domestic employment agencies, for instance. They must carefully check-out the references of employers as well as employees. They investigate complaints of employees who claim to have been sexually or in other ways abused. Supposedly, when such complaints have been substantiated, recourse will be taken against the offending employer, either by report to law enforcement agencies, or "blacklisting" of the employer at least until he-or she-have changed their ways.
This is all very well, except that it is always difficult for the domestic girl to legally prove that she has been sexually assaulted-or approached. In most cases, domestic employment agencies receive their commissions from the employer. A very wealthy family may hire twenty or thirty servants a year. This can involve a considerable amount in commissions. Naturally, the agencies, for the most part, are going to step cautiously.
Because of this, there are still many abuses. Hopefully, it is the purpose of this book to focus attention on the extent to which sexual exploitation in family-hired help situations, from a number of varying angles can and does take place, so that perhaps it can be better controlled. It is herewith suggested that in those states where there is no recourse for a domestic employee who has been the butt of actual or attempted sexual molestation, other than to report back to the employment agency that sent her to the job (usually she cannot go directly to the police because of lack of sufficient evidence) that an impartial review board be set up for hearings of such cases.
It is also suggested that many wealthy parents might do well to more closely supervise the relationship between their children and domestic servants in the household, to be more on the alert for sexual improprieties that might be going on between the children and servants and between the servants themselves, which in turn might set a bad example for the children.
In an educational pamphlet on this subject, published in London and written by Dr. Lyle C. Fowkes, it is stated in part:
"Such reports indicate that in far too many families in the upper income bracket, the rearing of children is left largely to members of the household domestic staff. In early years the child knows its "Nanny" better than it does its own mother. As it grows older, the butler, the gardener or the chauffeur may be a closer image for father-identification, than its actual father. The maid, cook or housekeeper may well become a mother-surrogate.
"Such parents would do well to beware of such situations and relinquish more of their time in favor of their offspring. The psychological danger to the child is clear. He or she requires affection of a physical nature; they will look for it from the servant who has for all purposes replaced the parent. In too many instances this affection-need, at some stage of the child's life, is taken advantage of by the adult involved. It can result in sexual molestation of the child, and in later years a complete sex act.
"Such sexual relationships can lead to deeply rooted guilt and/or confusion complexes on the part of the child in later life. It is the breeding ground for later neurosis and possibly even psychosis. Make no doubt about it, the fondling, masturbation or performance of fellatio upon a male child by a female servant must have at least some psychologically disturbing effect upon the boy. The same, of course, holds true for a male servant molesting, engaging in cunnilingus, and in some cases coitus or sodomy with a female child.
"In too many cases the parents involved, too all-consumingly busy with the personal affairs of their own lives, either do not even consider such 'a possibility or when they do, dismiss it as not being likely to happen. They should awaken to the facts. Too many young psyches have already been damaged due to this type of situation...."
The doctor does not go into the fact that there are other dangerous factors inherent to the situation of children being brought up, to all practical purposes, by domestic help. Even if there is no actual adult-child physical contact, many times children are allowed, inadvertently, perhaps, to witness various sex acts, including all kinds of perversions being performed between servants of different sexes or the same. The possible psychic damage that might result is obvious.
And parents of children who themselves indulge in clandestine sex acts with the domestic help, are in grave danger of having this fact brought to the attention of the child. Backstairs gossip is notorious, and is not easily hidden from children. Imagine the psychic distress of a child learning that his father is engaging in sexual relationship with the governess, or the mother with the chauffeur.
It is hoped that the facts revealed by this book will at least in some small manner reduce the number of instances that might occur in the future. Let parents, domestic employees, employment agencies and the local legislative bodies that control them, know that such things can and do happen!
CHAPTER ONE
HOTEL MAID SERVICE
It must be noted to begin with that domestic employees are, like human beings in any other type of work, subject to all normal-and some-ties abnormal-needs, desires and ambitions. The maid who submits to seduction by her master is little different than the secretary who is seduced after hours in the office-or after dinner and drinks in her own apartment-by her boss. The same motivations may be involved.
The secretary may be highly sexed and strongly attracted to her boss, may even provoke seduction and allow it to happen just for kicks. Or she may use this method to promote a raise. Possibly she has ambitions to marry the boss. Perhaps she just uses this method to get power over him, to make her job easier and more secure.
The house maid or hotel maid is often governed by the same motivations but is even more vulnerable to seduction because of more privacy and greater propinquity to her male employer. In the case of the hotel maid, the "employer" is usually a male hotel guest.
Hotel associations and individual hotel owners will claim otherwise but there is a considerable degree of sexual relationship between maids and male-and in some cases even female-guests. It is almost inevitable.
Hotel maid work is strenuous, often unpleasant and especially in states where hotel employees are not unionized, not very rewarding financially. Maids are often called upon to tidy up beds that have been soiled by feces, urine or drunken vomit. They are subject to bullying and abuse by guests, the housekeeper, desk clerks, the bell captain and bellhops. All for fifty, sixty or seventy five dollars a week and infrequent tips!
Because of this, hotel managements are hard pressed to maintain and keep adequate personnel in this department. Often they must take whatever type of person they can get. If a girl is a good worker, the management will often look the other way, if she is discreet about picking up extra "tips" by allowing a guest sexual liberties. Because she is not making much money by today's standards to begin with, an attractive hotel maid will sometimes find it difficult to resist the temptation offered by an attractive, well groomed male guest.
The guest knows this. Many of them are traveling men, long away from home and in dire need of sexual release. An attractive hotel maid often seems like a logical opportunity for them. What have they got to lose, if they make the approach cautiously and in good taste? The chances are greatly against a maid reporting a guest if his pitch is not too unsubtle. If the girl is not willing, this soon becomes obvious and he forgets the matter. If she seems to pick up the pitch in any way, he then can pursue the matter further.
Many hotel maids, of higher moral standards, with husbands or boy friends of their own, soon learn how to good humouredly, or if necessary, firmly, reject the approach and become so used to it that they accept it as just a part of their job. Others, though, sooner or later break down and eventually find themselves engaging in a form of actual prostitution. This can lead them into serious trouble. It can also mean trouble for the guest who dallies with her, as we shall see from the following case history. It is from the files of a psychological case worker in a House Of Detention For Women, in a large Midwest city.
CASE HISTORY HILDA V.
She was a buxom, blonde, pleasant faced girl of 19, of Scandinavian origin, when she went into hotel work. She had quit school at fifteen and run away to be married with a boy who was only a few years older. He was an auto mechanic by trade, made a good living, and Hilda was well taken care of and reasonably happy for four years.
Then her husband ran off and left her for another woman. Hilda was without funds. She had never done any kind of work, had an inadequate education. After trying unsuccessfully to get various types of jobs, in desperation she was forced to take a job in a fairly large, middle-class hotel.
The first week she was on the job, nothing untoward happened. The guests were usually absent from their rooms when she entered to do her work. Or, if they were present, they stepped out to allow her to go about her business.
The second Sunday she was at the hotel, about noon time, she knocked on the door of room 809. There was no answer. There was no Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob. She used her house key to let herself in. She saw then that there was a man in the bed, with a sheet drawn up to his chin. His face was turned toward the door. He was middle-aged and not unattractive. Hilda blushed a little, said quickly: "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know the room was occupied. I'll return later."
"No, no, honey," the man answered. "It's perfectly all right. Come on in and go about your work, you won't disturb me. I'm just relaxing, anyhow, not trying to sleep. You can just leave the bed unmade and dust around, whatever else you have to do."
Hilda hesitated and then went on into the room. She began the usual tidying up, emptying and cleaning the ashtrays, dumping out the wastebaskets. Several times she became aware that the man in the bed was staring at her, at the jiggle and sway of her large breasts beneath her uniform, at her long, shapely legs and highly rounded derriere.
Known that when she did so, her short uniforms skirt hiked way up in the back, she became very self conscious about bending over, and when it was necessary, tried to make sure that her back was not turned toward the bed.
The man made her extremely nervous. He seemed to be breathing abnormally heavy. She hurried about her work, and finally changed the towels in the bathroom. When she came out of there, she was confronted by the sight of the man on the bed, with the sheet now pushed down around his ankles, completely naked. His manhood was in a violently erect condition and of awesome proportions.
She stopped still, gasping, staring, feeling heat flash all through her. She didn't know what to say or do. Then the man smiled. He said: "Don't be scared or upset, Baby. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to touch you, even. I swear. It's just that you're so damned sexy looking, you've got me all excited. Now, you've got to help me out!"
Her voice was quavering and she was so embarrassed and frightened, she was on the verge of tears. "You're crazy!" she told him. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. I'm getting out of here." She turned and started to flee toward the door.
"Wait!" he called. "Just one second. Does ten dollars sound like I'm crazy? Ten dollars for you for doing absolutely nothing?"
She hesitated, turned around. Now the man, she saw, was fondling himself. For over several weeks, Hilda, who had regularly and eagerly enjoyed sex with her husband for four years, had not known this pleasure. It had begun to bother her. She had begun to have trouble sleeping at nights. Several times she had thought about letting some man pick her up, going to bed with him but being naturally shy, she had never let it actually happen.
Now, looking at the man in the bed, she felt her nipples rise and swell against her bra. She felt a quivering and suddenly surging need in her loins.
Then the man said: "It's not quite nothing, but like I said, I won't hurt you, try to do it to you or even touch you. It's really an easy ten bucks. And you'll be helping me out."
She stared at him dumbly, unable to keep her eyes from his thrusting masculinity, the hand that now circled its base, shaking it at her.
"All you've got to do," he went on, "is go over by the desk, keep dusting it with one hand and with the other, slowly raise the back of your skirt until it's up around your waist."
"You're crazy!" she repeated.
"No, I'm not. I just want to see you like that while I do this." He began to masturbate. "That's all you have to do, I swear. Nobody'll know. It'll take only a few minutes. Please? For an easy ten bucks?"
She was almost broke. It would be another three days before she got paid. She thought about what she could do with ten dollars. Finally, she whimpered: "You sure?" You sure that's all I have to do?"
He nodded vigorously. "Positive. Go on, now. There's a ten dollar bill in the desk drawer. Take it and then do like I said."
She hesitated another moment and then moved toward the desk. She opened the drawer. The ten dollar bill was there. She picked it up and thrust it into the top of her bra. Then she vent over the desk, and using the feather duster she was still holding, began to dust off the top of the desk. Her other hand reached back and began to tug up her skirt very slowly, revealing more and more of the plump white sleekness of the backs of her thighs.
"Like-like this?" she asked, hesitantly.
"Oh, yeah!" he said, huskily, his breathing even more labored. "That's beautiful, but keep going-all the way up. Don't stop, now!"
Hilda raised the skirt higher, becoming herself violently aroused as she visualized in her mind what the man on the bed was doing to himself. At the same time, she remembered that she was wearing very high cut, rather loose fitting pink silken panties, which revealed part of the bulging roundness of her plum buttocks.
Then she heard the man gasp out in new delight as she finally hiked the back of the skirt up to her waist. Because of her own agitation, she now tightly clamped her thighs together, tightening the flesh of her buttocks.
"Oh, look at that!" the man cried out in an agonized voice. "Oh, that's nice! Ob, baby, that's beautiful! Just-just stand like that a moment."
A few moments later the man and, hoarsely: "Turn your head and look. Hurry! Right now! Watch this!"
Curious, Hilda swiveled her head around just in time to see the man's hand now moving furiously, his hips moving up and down on the bed, his face contorted with the violence of his oncoming orgasm, as he then ejaculated.
When he sprawled back exhausted on the bed, Hilda pulled her skirt back down and fled from the room. Outside, she ran to what she knew to be an empty room, let herself in and then flopped down into a chair, her heart still ramming against her ribs. She thought about what had happened. She couldn't understand how the man had been able to achieve satisfaction in such a simple and bizarre manner. She had never even heard of the term voyeur. Actually, she was a little disappointed that the man hadn't tried to have sex with her; she now felt frustrated, still highly excited by the incident.
After a few minutes, Hilda gathered herself together and went back to work. The next two rooms she visited were empty, the guests either checked out or gone for the day. The third room was 'again occupied by a man working over some papers, at the desk. He was fully clothed in slacks and sport shirt He glanced up, gave Hilda a flashing smile and told her:
"It's okay. Come on in. You won't disturb me and I'm going to be in here working all day, anyhow."
"Thank you, sir," Hilda told him, feeling color steal into her cheeks. The man was about thirty, quite handsome in a rugged looking way, the type of man to whom Hilda was very attracted.
She quickly made the bed and then began dusting and emptying waste baskets, finally started clearing out the ashtrays. When she came to the one on the desk, she realized that as she bent over, the man could see down into the low cut bodice of her dress, could see the inner slopes and top bulge of her prominent breasts. She glanced up and saw that his eyes were focused right there. He flicked a smiling, knowing glance at her and then let his eyes return to her gaping bodice.
As she straightened up, he said: "You're a very beautiful girl."
She didn't know what to say. She remembered the other man as he had sprawled naked on the bed. She found herself wishing that she could see this one that way. She became sexually aroused, instantly.
The man at the desk saw the look in her eyes, recognized the sexual flush that now stained her cheeks. He said: "What are you so flushed about? You look all hot and bothered."
"Oh, no-no, sir," she answered. "I mean, well, maybe I am, from my work."
"You shouldn't have to work so hard," he told her. "A pretty girl like you. Are you married?" She shook her head.
"Boy friend?"
The way he was now staring at the jut of her full blown breasts made her nipples stand erectly. Again she shook her head.
"That's a shame," he said. "All the men in this town must be blind. I'd like to be your boy friend."
Her blush grew deeper. She turned her head, now, unable to meet the heated, meaning look in his eyes. "I-I've got to go now." she blurted but still didn't move.
"No," he said, quietly. "Not yet." His hand shot out and grabbed hers. He pulled her toward him. He caught her off balance and she tumbled onto his lap. His arms closed around her, holding her as she struggled to get away.
"No!" she cried. "Stop it, now!"
"Please let me," he begged her. "I-I'll pay you. Please!" At the same time, one of his hands delved down into the top of her uniform, forced itself under her bra, become filled with the large, smooth, pulsing globe of one breast, feeling the hot tip rise rigidly against his palm as he massaged it. His other hand slid up under her skirt, stroked and caressed the warm, marble smooth flesh, moving higher and higher. At the same time his mouth finally captured hers, closed over it, twisting, his tongue forcing its way between her lips, seeking hers.
Hilda continued to struggle, mildly, until she felt his questing fingers slip up under the loose silk of her panties and find the already moist port of utmost sensitivity. With that, Hilda stiffened, arched and her arms went about his neck.
Her own tiny pink tongue now welcomed the invasion of his. She twisted and squirmed and shivered, her breath gusting wildly through her nostrils, as his fingers expertly made her heady.
Whey they had worked each other up to a wild frenzy of need, the man whispered: "Stand up a moment." He eased her from his lap and reached up under her uniform and his trembling fingers slid her s-liken panties down her thighs to a little pink heap about her ankles. She kicked them off as she watched him open his own clothing. She gasped at the sight of his virile readiness.
Then he moved her to a straddling position, one hand up under her skirt, kneading the high, plump rounds now bared for him. With his other hand he unbuttoned the bodice of her uniform, roughly pushed up her bra, exposing the twin, pink-pointed gourds of her full breasts. His face moved to them, nuzzling between them. He took her hand, guided it to him and told her: "You do the guiding and go ahead when you're ready."
She shuddered with a wild surge of sensation as her fingers eagerly seized his feverish penis, pulling and pushing at it. Now his mouth kissed and his tongue laved the swell of her breast, finally concentrating on the turgid, aching tip, tugging and suckling at it like a hungry baby. And his hands, clasping her buttocks, urged her down, down, until contact was made between their most intimate parts.
Hilda cried out and after a moment or two of maddening superficial contact, she could stand it no longer. Without any further urging, she hunched forward and downward, enveloping him completely with one savage thrust. She threw her head back, emitting shuddering groans of unbearable excitement as his hands seized her at the buttocks and his lips and tongue caressed her breasts. Her hips ground wildly as she swiftly brought them both to the brink of relief and then over it in a roaring crescendo of complete sensual satisfaction.
When it was over and Hilda stood, she could no longer look at the man. She felt filled with shame and guilt. She turned away from him, adjusting her bra. She began buttoning up her bodice and she then reached down and picked up her panties, tugging them on.
After the man adjusted his own clothing, he reached into his pocket and took out a twenty dollar bill. He took her hand and pressed the money into her palm, closed her fingers over it, while she stood there, not knowing what to say or do.
"Here," the man said. "It was worth it, honey."
Then he wheeled and went into the bathroom, and shut the door. Hilda left the room quickly, folding the twenty dollar bill, tucking it into her bra, along with the ten.
That night, she had trouble sleeping. She thought of herself as a whore for having taken money for performing a sex act with a strange man but at the same time her feelings were mixed. Having the thirty extra dollars was pleasant; it was exciting thinking what she was going to buy with it. As a child, Hilda had never had any allowance, very little spending money. During her marriage her husband had never allowed her to have money of her own. Nor had he ever seemed to be very appreciative of her sexual performance, although he obviously enjoyed it while it was going on. But afterward, he had never thanked her, told her how good it was.
A few days later, Hilda became very friendly with another pretty young maid, an Italian girl named Marie. After awhile she reluctantly confided in Marie in a rather shamefaced manner. When she was finished, Marie laughed and told her:
"Oh, sweetie, what else is new? I've been doing that for the past year. Sometimes I make more than my weekly salary. Don't worry about it, Hilda. If you like the guy's looks and get a kick out of it, what's wrong with taking a little present? I f you don't get it, some other broad will."
That night, she visited Marie's apartment and saw all the beautiful clothes and furnishings the other girl had purchased with her "presents." They talked about it and Marie taught her a lot of "tricks of the trade" and to put in for work on weekends, since Saturday and Sunday mornings was the time most out of town business men would be sleeping late or at least in their rooms.
About eight months later, Hilda was trapped by a city vice officer and arrested on a prostitution charge. A complaint had been lodged against her by a guest a few days before. It seemed that Hilda had contracted a venereal disease and passed it on to the guest. She received a six months sentence and was put on probation for two years. During this period she was given psychiatric treatment and was taught a trade. She never returned to the hotel business.
Most hotels, at least the larger and better ones, know that this thing does go on and is almost impossible to eliminate entirely, but they try to hold it down to a minimum. They know that if it gets out of hand, it's ultimately bad for the hotel; they're in trouble with the authorities almost inevitably, once the word gets around. One system commonly used to prevent maids from consorting with guests is to have them call the housekeeper or head maid every fifteen minutes or half hour, reporting what rooms they have just finished and what one they are currently working in. The maids know they are subject to being checked upon, then, by the House Officer.
Even this system, though, has its weaknesses. The girl can split her illicit pay with the house officer or give him free personal access to her favors. Or she can bribe the housekeeper.
The best system, as discovered by most highly rated hotels, is to hire only older, physically unattractive women. If a young, attractive woman is hired, she is usually married and as closely as it is possible to ascertain, of high moral caliber.
Many traveling men who have made a practice of making a play for a pretty young hotel maid, thinking this to be much safer than consorting with a "pro," have found out to their eventual sorrow that this is not necessarily so. When the first sign of a venereal disease makes its ugly appearance, they realize that if the girl did it with them, for money, she must have done it with others; and that with any sexually promiscuous woman, the risks 'are about equal.
CHAPTER TWO
THE RIDING MASTER
Most riding masters would not consider themselves as domestic servants. They do not have to associate with household servants, are not subjected to doing menial tasks. They usually have separate quarters in the stable area. They are treated with more dignity and consideration by their employers. This work is of a skilled nature. Yet, they, like chauffeurs, are actually part of the "staff' of any huge estate.
They supervise the work of the stable hands, keep the riding and show horses well conditioned and when there are children in the family, teach them to ride. Often they are requested to ride with the lady of the house of her guests.
For reasons which we shall examine shortly, the stable of horses is usually the pet project of the lady of the house. Did you ever notice that in horse shows, the majority of the riders are women? The same applies to riding meets. Some fox hunts 'are predominantly ridden by women. Public riding stables seem to be patronized more by females than by males.
Many psychologists and psychiatrists have theorized that this is because the horse, more than any other animal, is a masculine symbol to a great many woman. This does not apply only to stallions and geldings, colts; it also applies to fillies and mares. Apparently it has nothing to do with the sex organs of the animal but applies because of the huge, muscular bulk of the beast, itself. Even out of sexual context, the horse sometimes symbolizes the male for females of all ages.
In Greensboro, North Carolina, a Counsellor at a Child-Guidance Clinic, which deals with disturbed children, tells of the following case:
A girl of eleven years old, was brought in for counseling. She had been giving her parents considerable trouble, was extremely wild and unruly, was always irritable and fighting with her older sister and other children. She was also misbehaving in school.
The counselor's first impression of her was that of a gawky, long-legged but rather pretty child, long blonde hair, docile and with an attitude of trying to please that completely belied the behavior problems quoted by her parents.
After several sessions, the counselor noticed that the girl was obsessed with the subject of horses. When drawing, she drew nothing else. She loved to talk about them. She saved up her allowance until she had enough to patronize a public riding stable near her home. She wanted more than anything in the world to some day have a horse of her own.
The counselor began to see some meaning to this. She talked with the girl's parents and asked the father if their had been any difference in his relationship with this daughter, during the past year, since she had taken on the lanky un-gainliness of pre-adolescence. At first he said "No." but then, under the leading questioning of the counselor, the father had to admit that perhaps he had been finding it more difficult to be physically affectionate, since she was no longer actually a cuddlesome little creature and that, yes, perhaps he had unwittingly begun to associate himself more with the older daughter of fourteen, with whom, because of her increasing maturity, he now seemed to have more in common.
The counselor then told the father that she thought that this was the root of the problem. The eleven-year-old girl was extremely sensitive, was aware of her own seemingly sudden change from a cute little girl to an awkward, ambling creature of knees and elbows. She could sense the father's withdrawal of affection, the transference to the older daughter. She rebelled with bad behavior. At the same time, she became obsessed with horses which became a male symbolization with her.
It was suggested that the father give the girl more time not in conjunction with outings with the older daughter. He should take the child on picnics, out for an ice cream soda, to a motion picture-just the two of them. The counselor thought that the child needed this personal company from the only male figure she had to love.
The plan was put into action by the father and it worked. There were no further abnormal problems with the little girl.
That there is also a sexual context to this male symbolization of equine animals, is an accepted fact. Many females have been seduced for the first time by a male companion, either during or right after a horseback ride. Some of them even admit to having been the aggressor in the seduction. They stated that feeling the breadth and strength of the large animal between their outstretched legs excited them and that the excitement increased tremendously, with the rhythmic rubbing of their vulval area against the smooth saddle.
A fourteen-year old girl who was brought to a psychiatrist by her parents after she had been observed masturbating excessively, when questioned about the fantasies she employed at such time, declared that they were always variations of the same theme. While she toyed with her genital area, she would fantasy that she was riding a horse while nude; she was fondling the pommel, which to her represented a phallus. At the moment of orgasm, she would fantasy herself moving over the pommel, easing down onto it until it was full inserted. Then the horse would buck and jump, causing the pommel to slide in and out of her in a violent manner.
Sometimes she would fantasy this happening while she was riding down a public street, with people watching. At other times she would be in the woods or in a stable or sometimes riding the horse down a shallow stream or under a waterfall.
It was determined that she had masturbated the first time after her first horseback ride at a public stable, when she was twelve-years old. She had been wearing tight fitting dungarees. At first the feeling of being astride the big animal had been extremely sensual to her. As the animal jogged along, she felt herself holding onto the pommel and became aware that it was something like a large phallus. Her sexual sensations increased a few moments later, as she felt her dungarees split in the crotch. She was wearing no panties. The contact of her now exposed sexual parts against the smoothly worn saddle, rubbing and bumping up and down on it, brought her close to the point of orgasm within a few minutes. She became so shocked and ashamed at what had happened, that she immediately reined-in the horse and dismounted. She told her girl friend who had been riding with her, that she welt ill and didn't want to ride any more. She then walked the horse back to the stable and went home alone.
There was nobody home. She took a bath and while lolling in the tub of warm water, began to think back to what had happened. Just remembering, brought on a new flood of sensation. Beneath the water, she began to for the first time, explore her most intimate parts. One finger accidentally discovered her clitoris and toyed it into a swelling nub of sensation. She began to rub her whole vulva with the heel of her hand while her finger became increasingly busy with the tiny core of her erotic feelings. This time she allowed herself to be brought to complete orgasm.
She continued the practice regularly, until her parents became suspicious of her long stays in the bathroom, then listened outside the closed door of her bedroom at night and heard the unmistakable sounds of what was happening. Being sophisticated people, they at first decided it was a normal phase and would pass. When it occurred nightly and sometimes during the afternoon in the bathroom and for several weeks, they decided there was an abnormal problem.
After a number of sessions with the psychiatrist, he decided that the girl had too much idle time on her hands and also had been the victim of well meaning but much too strict parenthood.
At fourteen, although almost completely mature physically, she still wasn't allowed to wear lipstick or to dress in the contemporary teen-age manner. Because of this, although she was a reasonably attractive and intelligent girl, she was not completely accepted by her peers, was considered a little square. This, in turn, led her to being a "loner" to 'a great extent. Psychiatrists agree that extended and too frequent masturbation is frequently the pattern of the lonely child.
Her parents were advised to loosen up with the girl, let her become a part of her own age group, encourage her to engage in more social activity. The problem was also explained to the girl, herself. Once understood by 'all parties concerned, the girl quickly changed, was tickled to death to be allowed to dress and wear her hair like her friends did, to be able to apply a reasonable amount of cosmetics and allowed to date under controlled conditions. She soon abandoned her neurotic habit.
The interesting point in this particular case history, in line with the general subject matter of this chapter, is that horse back riding brought about her first pubescent introduction to extreme sexual sensation. It can safely be assumed that it has had a similar, though perhaps not as extreme an effect on other girls in this age group and older. Fortunately, in most normal circumstances there is merely a sexual novelty factor involved. As the child continues to ride, she becomes more engrossed with learning riding skills, more involved with the sport, itself, than the erotic side effects.
However, some authorities also feel that although the sexual connotations of horseback riding are frequently subjugated they are rarely eliminated entirely. Because of this, if a female equestrian finds herself attracted by her male riding companion, the sliding and bumping of her genitalia against the saddle, the great bulk of the animal moving rhythmically between her outspread thighs, has a tendency to become noticeable, to intensify all of her sexual feelings and make her more vulnerable to any overt seductive acts on the part of the male.
Because of this, some riding teachers, public stable hands and riding masters on big expensive estates, find themselves in a position to take advantage of this fact. Especially since, to a great many men, there is something sexually appealing about a woman riding horseback. The jiggling of her breasts, the spread of her haunches and the up and down movements of posting, can produce an erotically provocative picture. In a great many instances the woman involved is often aware of this, if only subconsciously. Most women are aware when their bodily movements are attracting the attention of a man. Thus, the electric spark of mutual sexual desire is often ignited on the bridle path.
In a scientific treatise originally published in Australia, entitled Erotic Stimuli, written by psychologst Walker Lee Lambeth, considerable attention is given to the subject of women who spend a great deal of their leisure time horseback riding.
Dr. Lambeth makes the suggestion that up until comparatively recent years, so called "gentlewomen" always rode sidesaddle, not only for reasons of modesty but also because riding in this fashion is not sexually stimulating for women.
He also poses the possibility that rocking horses are popular with children of varying ages because the motion involved while riding one can be provocative of sexual sensation. He observed in three separate tests of children of mixed sexes playing in a public nursery, that a greater proportion of girls seemed to be attracted by rocking horses, than boys and that they remained on them for longer periods. He states that in one instance, an eleven-year-old girl, already beginning to develop, showed obvious physical signs of sexual excitement while furiously rocking back and forth on the toy charger, and became impatient and irritated when interrupted by other children.
Along this same vein Lambeth cited the popularity of Merry Go Rounds, especially among courting couples at public fairs or Amusement Parks. He, too, seemed to feel that there is sexual symbolization of the male even in the artificial figures of Merry Go Round horses. He observed that although there are usually other animals, lions, tigers and deer, on many of these contraptions, the equine figures seem to hold far more attraction for feminine riders.
A handsome young instructor at a public riding academy was recently interviewed on this subject. When queried about possible affairs with some of his lovely young students, he replied: "Hell, man, I make out a lot. What the hell do you think I take this crummy job for? Not for the lousy pay, or because I like the smell of horses. When they get up in that saddle and we go for a ride in the woods for the first time, a lot of chicks get turned-on so bad they even make the first move!" He shrugged. "Not all of 'em, of course. And sometimes not even the one you'd really like. But enough to keep the job interesting."
Perverts and particularly exhibitionists seem to be aware of the extreme vulnerability toward sexual arousement on the part of pubescent girls while horseback riding. They have been known to lurk along bridle paths, particularly on Saturday mornings, when a lot of children go riding.
In a northern New Jersey suburban area, a public bridle path at one point runs along the side of a paved but seldom used state road, for about a half mile. A man in a car began to haunt this area. When he saw two teen-aged girls riding alone, he would drive slowly up beside them, drive along at the same pace .enabling them to see clearly down into the car. He would be already exposed and in an erect state. Within 'a few moments, as the girls watched, he would furiously masturbate to climax and then drive off. How many times he did this before he was finally reported and caught, nobody knows.
In a large Southwestern city, a handsome, twenty-two year old young man hid behind a thicket of shrubbery on a rise of ground near a bridle path, where he could observe anyone riding toward that point. On this particular day he saw a beautiful girl of fourteen, with long, flowing blonde hair, riding alone. He stepped out into the bridle path as she approached. He feasted his eyes on her bouncing young breasts beneath the thin T-shirt she was wearing; the spread of her tight-jeaned thighs.
He smiled, disarmingly, as she rode up and talked with her a few moments, as he petted her horse, told her how crazy about horses he was. Then suddenly, his conversation took a different tack. He said, suddenly staring at her intently: "It feel good, riding a horse, doesn't it?"
"Well, sure," she answered, innocently. "It's one of my favorite sports."
"I mean," he said, leering openly, now, "it feels good between your legs-you know! Doesn't it? Feel's real good, gets you all hot and bothered, I'll bet. It does most girls."
The blonde went pale. She gasped, not knowing what to say.
The young man suddenly reached down and took hold of the big bulge now lumping out his tight dungarees. He said: "I got something better for you to ride on. You'll really like it Come on and get down for a little while We'll really ball it." The girl was now suddenly very frightened, horrified. She blurted: "You're crazy!" She slashed the horse's flank with her riding crop and spurred him off, just as the man reached out to pull her down from the horse.
Almost in a state of shock when she returned to the stable area fifteen minutes later, she reported what had happened to her father who was waiting for her there. He in turn called the police. A week later the man was caught. They were amazed to learn from him that startlingly blunt approach had succeeded with three other girls, and he had intercourse with all of them in prior weeks, before the blonde one broke away.
All parents should advise their teen-aged children and even younger ones, against riding alone. If they do ride alone, they should be warned not to stop or dismount or talk with strangers along the bridle path, under no circumstances whatsoever. It would be a good thing if all public riding stables would also post such a notice and call it to the attention of all their customers.
Most psychiatrists have at one time or another treated patients with sexual maladjustment problems related either directly or indirectly with earlier experiences of a sensual nature while riding horseback. A highly unusual example follows.
CASE HISTORY MRS. LYDIA J.
Up until the age of thirty-five, Lydia, the rather strikingly good looking wife of a very wealthy man, suffered from 'a psychological problem of frigidity. Strangely this was not the reason she finally went for psychiatric help. It was just the opposite.
Ashamed of her lack of sexual response, Lydia had been successfully able to hide the fact from her husband by the simple ruse of pretending with sounds and actions that she enjoyed the act 'as much as he did. In the first year of marriage, particularly, she found that this trick also helped to bring on her husband's orgasm that much sooner, thus shortening the length of time necessary for her charade. Beginning with the second year of her marriage, her husband grew less demanding and she soon learned that he was bed din down other women. She was more relieved than perturbed. She even encouraged this by cutting down on her own feigned reactions when he did make demands upon her occasionally, and complaining to him that she no longer cared much about sex anymore.
After ten years of this, her neurosis began to take its toll, physically. She began to suffer from headaches, was always tired, had difficulty sleeping at night, was always waspish and inclined to break out into tears at the slightest thing. She consulted her physician who could find nothing physically wrong.
When he inquired about her sex life, she blandly assured him that it was perfectly normal. The physician then suggested that perhaps she was just bored, felt useless and that maybe she should take up outside activities such as social work of one kind or another, or perhaps some hobby, such as, tennis or horseback riding.
At the later word, Lydia perked up. She looked startled and at the same time pleased. She said: "Horse back riding? Why, what an odd idea, doctor. You know, it rather appeals to me."
"Well," the doctor said. "There's nothing wrong with giving it a try, anyhow."
"I'll have to think about it, of course," she answered, "but maybe it is 'a good idea. We certainly have room on the estate for a stable and lots of woods and hills and dales through which to ride."
The next day, she made plans to have a stable built and to purchase some horses. A month later the project was completed. By this time she was strangely excited about the whole thing. From the day she made the decision she had been no longer bothered by her psychosomatic symptoms. If anything she felt younger and better than she had in years.
Then she began interviewing applicants for the job of taking care of the stable and horses and teaching her how to ride. She interviewed half a dozen men before she finally hired one. The first six were all of neat appearance, gentlemanly and had excellent references, yet for some reason she couldn't explain, Lydia did not hire any of them. The man she did finally hire, was about forty. He was big and rangy, rather sloppy in appearance and he had an arrogant, condescending manner. His name was Raoul and his references were not nearly as good as the others, yet this was the man she hired. She was aware of a strange fascination that he held for her from the first moments of their interview.
All of these facts were brought out by her in the earlier weeks of her eventual psycho-therapy.
The first few days Raoul was on the job, Lydia visited the stable only briefly. Even so, she was aware of the man's arrogant gaze lingering on the jut of her finely shaped breasts and the press of her dress against her thighs; instead of being annoyed by this, as she always had been with other men, she felt pleased and excited and admitted that she probably even encouraged him, was mildly flirtatious. At the same time, she felt her own attention drawn to the virile bulge that was ill-concealed by his tight dungarees.
The day of her first riding lesson with Raoul, Lydia said that she felt dazed, sort of giddy. A strange, glowing excitement that at first she didn't realize was sexual in nature, ride within her. Before going down to the stable area, she showered carefully and for the first time in her life, felt her nipples rise fiercely as she soaped her breasts; felt her loins stir with a sudden, unrecognizable need, her tummy contract deliciously, as she bather her genital area.
When she dressed, she neglected to don panties or bra. She had never done anything like that before in her life. She wore nothing but riding boots, jodhpurs that were actually a little too small for her so that they revealed the high, tight moons of her derriere and an expensive silk, open-throat blouse. She looked at herself in the mirror, noting the high flush of excitement on her face, the strange look in her eyes, the way her breasts were limned by the silk of the shirt, the nipples pricking out the shimmering cloth.
Then she left the house and headed for the stable. When she confronted Raoul, she said the touch of his gaze on her breasts was almost like that of a hand. He smiled and said: "Wow! You sure look great, Mrs. J.!"
"Thank you, Raoul," she answered. "Are we ready?"
"I'm always ready." He gave her a knowing look.
He went to the stalls and led out a black gelding, already saddled. Lydia prepared to mount. She put one foot in the stirrup and then pretended that she was having trouble swinging herself up into the saddle. She gave a self-conscious laugh, said: "Raoul, I'm afraid I can't quite make it. Give me a boost."
"Sure," he said. He came over to her and put one hand guidingly on her small waist; the other he placed, cupped, under one of her hard, rounded buttocks as he lifted her upward onto the saddle. As she swung her leg over, his hand gently squeezed her round flesh. Lydia said at that moment she felt a surge of what she was then forced to identity as wild, sexual excitement. It increased, making her dizzy as she slid into the saddle, felt the big gelding stir restlessly beneath her.
Then Raoul, his eyes never leaving Lydia, sensing that something unusual was happening, led horse and rider out of the stable into the training ring. As he led the horse jogging around the ring, Lydia became aware of her breasts rolling and sliding and jiggling against the thin sheen of the silk shirt. She said her nipples felt as though they would burst with their hard, aching erectness as they spiked against the shimmering cloth. She knew Raoul was staring at them. She felt her vulvae area grow warm and moistly throbbing at the rubbing, bumping contact with the saddle.
Now Raoul was giving her elementary instructions about posture, posting and so forth. Lydia didn't even hear what he was saying. As they circled the ring again she felt almost consumed by the flood of wanton desire that flushed all through her. She had never known anything like it.
Raoul suddenly halted the gelding, looked curiously up at Lydia. Her eyes were now hooded and darkened, the pupils slightly dilated. Her face was flushed as though with sudden sunburn and her full mouth looked slack and pulpy.
"Is something wrong?" Raoul asked.
Lydia's voice sounded thick and a little hoarse. "No. I just ... Well, yes. I guess I feel a little dizzy, as though I might fall."
"Here," he said. "Let me help you down."
"No," she answered quickly. "I don't want to quit so early. You-you get up in the saddle behind me, Raoul and hold me so I won't fall until I get over this silly dizzy spell."
He looked at her almost unbelieving but then there was no mistaking the passion-strained look on her pretty face, the way her breasts were heaving, their points showing through the silk.
Quickly, he removed her one foot from the stirrup, after she had moved way forward in the saddle until her pelvic area was pressed tightly against the pommel. He put his own foot into the stirrup and swung up behind her. She was now raised and bending forward, her rounded rear thrust out and slightly upward. There wasn't really room for two on the saddle, so Raoul was forced to slide up under and tightly against her. She let out 'a little gasping moan.
"Oh, that's right," she hissed. "Now put your arm around me to keep me from falling off!"
His arm circled her waist. She jiggled the reins and clucked to the horse to move. Once again the gelding began to jog around the ring. With each up and down movement of the animal, now, Raoul was thrust against her from the rear. She felt his almost immediate reaction; a fierce, hard, feverish pressure, rubbing back and forth.
"Oh, Raoul!" she groaned. She took his hand, clasped over her abdomen, and moved it up to her breast. Eagerly, his fingers closed over the jiggling hillock of silken covered flesh, its hard-pointed summit pushing through the thin cloth 'and into his palm. He squeezed gently as Lydia emitted a little cry of pleasure, arched her back and ground herself against the pommel.
Next, she felt his fingers plucking at the buttons of her blouse. She didn't resist. She then felt his hard, calloused hand capture the bared breast, imprisoning the spiring nipple between his fingers. Her head twisted around and she reached up and caught his face, brought it toward hers. Their mouths ground together. Her tongue was like a live, tiny serpent in his mouth. Now he surged and arched furiously against her, his hand massaging the hot, hard-tipped plumpness of her breast.
After a few moments, with a long, shuddering sigh, her mouth broke from his. She unfastened the side of the jodhpurs, then ran the zipper down. But when she tried to ease the riding breeches down over her hips, she had difficult because of her straddling position.
"Raoul, lift me up a little. Lift me up!" she ordered.
He grabbed her around the waist and raised her up from the saddle. She wriggled and twisted until the jodhpurs were faced down to her knees, her now nude bottom arching toward him. She stuck out one leg, bent it and forced the material completely down and off that leg. Then she urged, hoarsely: "All right, Raoul, now! Come on. Take it out!"
She looked back and down over her shoulder, as she stood up in the one stirrup, bracing her self and watching his hand fumble at his own clothing, disappear from sight for an instant and then emerge again, filled to such an extent, she let out a little cry of awed 'admiration. Then she lowered herself toward him and at the moment of impalement, cried out his name in a wild, sobbing shriek.
Then she kicked the gelding in the ribs with her heel, forcing him into a canter. She squealed with delight at the increased speed of the bouncing, as they both posted up and down. She arched her spine, jutting her bared breasts into Raoul's fiercely caressing hands, as sensation mounted upon sensation, until her whole body felt as though it was filled with liquid fire. She heard Raoul begin to make animal-like outcries as she surged up and down against him in rhythm with the gelding's cantering around the ring. She was brought twice to a sobbing, shuddering climax before Raoul joined her in a third one, hunching 'and bellowing out his own savage excitement.
Afterward, Lydia was so faint, she would have fallen from the horse, had not Raoul been holding tightly to her. Next, she became hysterical. She dismounted, adjusted her clothing and turned on Raoul, beating at him with her fists and screaming accusing him of raping her. Then she fled to the house where she flung herself across a bed. In a few moments she fell into a deep, exhausted slumber. When she awakened later, she felt dazed and nauseous, almost as though she had been drugged. She remembered the incident; she just could not understand what had happened to her. She finally forced herself to go down to the stable area and confront him. When she arrived there, the man had packed up his things and left, apparently frightened by her weird behavior.
The next day she ordered the horses sold at auction and the stable area tom down. She began to suffer from fainting spells and her excruciating headaches returned. Her husband, worried about her odd behavior, consulted her physician, and when Lydia came in to see him, again, talked her into consulting a psychiatrist.
She was uncooperative at first but after a couple of session became convinced that she did need help. Finally, after a few more sessions, haltingly and sobbingly she related to the psychiatrist, her experience with Raoul. She steadfastly refused to admitted that she'd ever had any previous riding experience nor had ever before been on a horse, even. Finally, she consented to undergo hypnosis. During the third session, the truth was learned.
When she was fifteen-years-old, Lydia had spent the summer with friends of her family, at their Maine estate. There were no other young people there but the family had a stable of horses and a riding master, whose first name was Nick. He gave riding lessons to young Lydia and during that time, she developed a girlhood crush on the man. Under hypnosis, the description she gave of Nick, was very similar to that of Raoul. One time when they stopped at a small brook and dismounted while the horses drank some water, Nick's horse was spooked by the sudden appearance of a snake and ran off. It was his idea, then, that they ride back doubled in the saddle, him in the rear position.
As they did so, the same experience that Lydia had with Raoul, occurred. At first she was frightened and embarrassed but then, as Nick began to kiss her on the throat and caress her arms and shoulders and then her breasts, she began to be highly aroused. Except for the fact that he was the aggressor, her first sex act occurred in the same way that she had coitus with Raoul, many years later.
During the next week, the young Lydia had sexual relations with Nick along the bridle path daily. Sometimes it occurred while both were mounted on the same horse, at others, after dismounting.
At the beginning of the second week, while taking jumping lessons, Lydia was thrown from her horse and struck her head against a rock. She was unconscious for two days. She recovered without any obvious brain damage but apparently her whole affair with the riding master, Nick, was blocked from her mind. It was also noted that from this point on, she never could enjoy sex, even later, with her own husband.
It was presumed by the psychiatrist that Mrs. J., who as a child had been brought up in a strongly religious atmosphere, suffered extreme guilt complexes over her affair with Nick, and when thrown from the horse, assumed that she was thus being "punished" for her sexual activity.
When all this was brought to light it was finally made clear to Mrs. J., that as a fifteen-year-old she had been the victim of an extremely clever seducer who took advantage of her aroused sexuality while riding and that there was no real connection between that happening and her riding accident.
With continued therapy, she gradually began to adjust normally, and in conjunction with other sessions in which her husband was present, their marital relationship improved. After awhile she was able to begin for the first time to enjoy her heritage as 'a mature woman and a wife, in even their most intimate moments.
It was believed that her affair with Raoul had been a deliberate subconscious attempt to "breakthrough" the original block that had caused 'all of her emotional problems.
CHAPTER THREE
MAIDS AND MASTERS
The main and usual reason for a young woman to go into domestic service, especially today, is that this type of job offers security, especially for a girl who does not have much formal schooling, nor desire to learn special skills in order to make a living. She does not have to worry about paying rent, buying food, meeting electric, gas and telephone bills, nor even owning a car for transportation. In domestic service, all of this is supplied for her-plus a "salary" which 'amounts to sufficient funds for her personal needs; plus enough to put away in a savings account for the future. At the same time,-she enjoys all the luxuries of an expensive home. It is usually air conditioned, beautifully landscaped, equipped with every possible expensive modern convenience.
Once she "finds" the right family, 'a good domestic is often settled for life. She knows she will be taken care of when ill. At the same time, she participates to a great extent in the family life, and frequently being a person with no family of her own, even that emotional need is satisfied.
By the same token, most wealthy families 'are so happy when they acquire a loyal, hard working and honest employee, that they go out of their way to make her happy and comfortable.
Unfortunately, as in all walks of life, there 'are the exceptions. There are maids and governesses who not only allow their role to lead to sexual exploitation, but often invite it by their actions. There are those who use their positions to satisfy their own perverted sexual needs.
In a study on Personalities In Relation to Types Of Employment, sociologist Dr. J. T. Detwiller has this to say about domestic employment: " ... and in some instances, the man or woman chooses this type of employment because he or she is basically of a permissive or servile nature. This type of personality often subconsciously enjoys being browbeaten or exploited, playing a subservient role. Even though they often complain about the injustices done them, this is only part of their self-imposed martyrdom. This type of personality is also frequently inclined to retaliate by secret, petty acts of pilfering, spitting in the soup, carrying false gossip to other servants. In other instances they have been known to compensate by subtle, undiscoverable acts of cruelty upon small children or upon elderly invalid members of the family, who are in a comatose state.
"The young female personality of this type will often allow herself to be "forced" into sexual relations with a male member of the family, under threat of dismissal or accusations of theft, thoroughly enjoying the act and then avoiding any guilt feelings by telling herself that she had no choice. In actuality, the "pseudo-rape" often makes the act more enjoyable to her and she frequently cannot enjoy sex in any other manner.
"There are, of course, many other personality factors involving people choosing this type of employment...."
"
A number of cases of sexual abuse of children by male or female domestic employees, never come to the attention of either parents or authorities, for various reasons. Sometimes parents will see no point in prosecuting the servant involved, or perhaps are afraid they do not have enough valid evidence. In some cases a child will not report what is going on to a parent because either he or she has been threatened into silence by dire threats of reprisal, or because they are too embarrassed to talk about it, or actually receive some sensual pleasure from whatever type of molestation is taking place and do not want it to stop.
In the cases that have been reported, one of the most common types of abuse seem to involve maids, governesses or housekeepers with young boys, ranging in age from infancy to the teens.
In one instance, a plumpish but rather pretty Yugoslavian maid, only eighteen was employed in 'a household where there was a fourteen-year-old boy, The girl, Sophie, and the boy, Mark-because they were rather close in age, enjoyed a rather unusual servant-young master relationship. They were in actuality, good friends on a purely platonic basis. In a lot of ways they were like brother and sister, on a completely non-sexual basis.
Secretly, young Mark had been masturbating, without reaching climax, for nearly two years. At fourteen he suddenly experienced his first orgasm during this act. He was overwhelmed, not only by the ecstatic physical reactions, but because for him this betokened the coming of manhood.
A lonely boy with no really close friends, he had a strong urge to demonstrate his new sexual prowess. But before whom? The urge increased, became almost a compulsion. He had to prove to someone his acquisition of manhood! One hot summer afternoon, when he and Sophie were alone in the house, Mark retired to the bathroom and began to arouse himself, manually. He had learned by now, a means by which to slow down and delay eventual ejaculation. He employed these tactics this day, approaching the verge several times before he finally realized he would not be able to control himself much longer.
Then, impulsively, he threw open the bathroom door and shouted to Sophie, who in another room. When she arrived at the bathroom, the girl stood staring, unbelievingly at the young master, with his trousers and undershorts bunched around his ankles and with his swollen and elongated member in his hand. He pumped furiously.
"Look, look, Sophie!" he panted, his face flushed. "Look! Watch what I can do ... Oh! Oh! Here it comes!"
He vibrated and shook and cried out as the sudden spasming overwhelmed him, at the same time that he closely observed the various expressions-surprise, awe, embarrassment, that flitted the blushing face of the girl watching him.
When it was over, the excitement drained from him and he felt a little shamefaced. He half turned away and raised his clothing to cover himself. Looking back over his shoulder, he said: "I'll bet you didn't know I could to that yet, huh?" Sophie regarded him with a new, uncertain expression. "Uh-uh," she said. "I mean, I really never thought about it."
"You won't tell on me, will you?"
She shook her head. "Why should I?"
"Did you ever see anybody do that before?"
"Sure," she said.
Mark was surprised. "Who?"
"Your father."
The boy blanched. "You-you're crazy!" he blurted. "You're lying!"
"I am not. It happens whenever we're in the house, alone. Sometimes he makes me do it, while he feels me all over. And his is bigger than yours, too."
Mark was now trembling with shock and anger. "Damn' you, it's not true!" he squalled. "You stop saying that about him." Up to this moment the boy had idolized his father, as most boys of that age do. He just couldn't believe what he was hearing; his kind, gray haired, dignified father doing a think like that!
Sophie shrugged. "I don't care whether you believe it or not. It's the truth."
Mark began to sob with uncontrolled anger. He balled his fists and moved threateningly toward her. "You shut up or I'll make you" he said.
She backed away, cowering a little. "You'd better not. You do and I'll tell him about you!" This was too much for the adolescent boy. He turned and fled to his room. When she shock of what he had heard subsided somewhat, he began to rationalize. Sophie had to be lying; why would Dad want to fool around with a young girl like her? And why would he want to do that-or even have her do it for him? Everybody knew only kids did that. Grown men did the other thing-especially if they were married ... Mark didn't dwell on that last, though. It was impossible to visualize his father and mother in bed together. After awhile, he dismissed the matter almost completely from his mind. Almost, but not quite. For several days he didn't even talk with Sophie. He avoided contact with her whenever possible.
The following Sunday afternoon, Mark's mother was going to some kind of church meeting. After his mother left, Mark announced that he was going downtown to the movies. He left the house, walked to 'a bus stop but that was as far as he went. He then returned to the house, his heart hammering his ribs, feeling almost sick to his stomach, telling himself that this was crazy, he was wasting his time, he wasn't going to see anything!
He then peeked in all the windows on the ground floor. Neither his father nor Sophie were anywhere in sight. He then slipped into the back door of the house. He took off his shoes and tiptoed upstairs. He found them there.
His father was stark naked and so was Sophie. He was surprised to see the full, round firmness of her breasts, the way the large red nipples stuck out. He saw that his father's head was bent forward and his mouth was closed over one of those roseate tips as he mouthed and tugged at it. At the same time, Sophie was manually manipulating the older man, and Mark saw that she had told the truth about their comparative dimensions. For several moment.?. Mart horrified fascination, feelings himself repelled, yet sexually excited at the same time. He felt the sudden surge to full rigidity of his own masculinity. He listened to the excited breathing of both of them, saw the older man's hands roaming around the young girl's sleekly white, buxom body, gliding over the jut of plump buttocks, stroking the long, fleshy thighs, then clasping the curl-covered apex. One finger delved below it, bringing forth sudden harsh gasps of delight from Sophie.
Then Mark could take no more. White-faced, he turned and silently stole away. Downstairs, he put his shoes back on, then left the house. He walked away in a daze, trying to negate in his mind the things he had seen.
A block from his home, he had to stop and vomit in the gutter. Then he began to walk again, tears stinging his eyes as in his mind he kept saying over and over: "Goddam him, 'anyhow. Goddam him, why does he do that? I don't want him for my father; I hate him, hate him!"
It was three days later, two hundreds miles away, that Mark was finally picked up when he was caught shoplifting food in 'a super market. He hadn't eaten in all that time. He was sullen and silent with the juvenile authorities. He was released to the custody of his parents under the edict that they take him for psychiatric help. He refused to say why he had run away. He was completely uncooperative in psycho-therapy. He refused, when first brought home, to look or even speak to Sophie, and insisted that she be let go at once. He offered no explanation, except that he hated her. The girl was released.
Meanwhile, the father began to suspect the truth of what had happened.' After much soul-searching and finally deciding that the emotional stability of his son was more important than hiding his own guilt, the man went to Mark's psychotherapist and admitted his carrying-on with the maid. He ventured a suggestion that Mark might have observed this the day he ran away.
The therapist was quite impressed, more by the man's integrity at this moment, than by the story of his affair with Sophie. He discussed the matter fully with the older man, learning that Mark's mother, considerably older and never a passionate woman, had refused him his husbandly rights for several years now. The man had finally succumbed to the young maid's attraction. He had never had actual intercourse with her, fearing that he would get her pregnant.
With these facts at hand, the therapist was able to approach young Mark's problem from a different angle. He was finally able to bring the whole matter out into the open with the boy and begin to work out the problem with him. It took two years, during which time Mark twice more ran away from home and was arrested again on petty juvenile charges. But he was finally cured of his resentment and hatred of his father, through learning and understanding of the nature of the man and his problems. He was still a little stand-offish but no longer outright hostile.
This case is related in some detail because of the dual aspects of involvement of son and father with the same maid. If Mark had never exposed his masturbatory practice to Sophie, it's possible he might never have learned of his father's involvement with her. It was never fully understood why the maid, being obviously of an extremely sexual nature, didn't also initiate a sexual relationship with the son when the opportunity presented itself. Nor why she apparently deliberately hurt him by blurting out what was going on between her and the father.
So many books written by prominent pediatricians have called attention to the fact that even during infancy and at any age from that time on, young males are subject to sudden tumescence and the accompanying tendency to fondle their genitalia, that there is no point in just quoting one such book. It is an accepted fact in the medical profession and among knowledgeable parents.
Because of this, even male infants are sometimes the victims of the perverted sexual desires of some maid or governesses. When these incidents happen, it is often while the maid or governess is bathing the young male child. The warm, soapy water relaxes him; there is a certain amount of sensual pleasure in it sloshing about his nude body. As his body is laved with soapsuds, either with a washcloth of by hand, the tactile pleasure increases. When the same soothing, almost caressing action is applied to his genital area, it is almost bound to produce sexual excitement, resulting in tumescence.
This is one reason why it is nearly always standard procedure for children to have playthings in the tub with them, toy boats and the like. The average, normal nursemaid, perceiving that the male child has become aroused by her washing of his sex parts, can easily divert his attention to the playthings in the tub. Usually, thus distracted, the erotic stimulation will quickly be forgotten. Ordinarily, after the age of six or seven a child does not need anyone to bathe him. By the age of eight or nine, he will usually call a halt to this practice himself, becoming aware by this time of the difference in sexes and having learned some degree of modesty.
It must be stated here that most nurse maids and governesses are extremely moral and honorable, some of them very motherly souls, who would not think of molesting a male child in their charge, while bathing him or at any other time. Unfortunately, though, there are exceptions and such sexual exploitation has occurred, sometimes creating in later life serious emotional difficulties, sexually oriented. One such instance follows:
CASE HISTORY MR. ARNOLD V.
Arnold's mother and father were extremely wealthy. Arnold was an only child. His father was away from home most of the time on business and his mother was 'a so-called social butterfly. She spent little time at home. Arnold was raised by a succession of female employees. At ten years of age he was an unusually large boy, serious, quiet, introspective.
For the past two years, he had been bathing himself. Several months after he became ten, Arnold began to sometimes acquire an erection while lolling in the bathtub. He discovered that voluptuous sensations could be provoked by toying with himself at these times. His favorite habit was to recline full length in the tub, with the water covering his ears and only his nose, eyes and mouth above water, so that he could hear no sounds. He would then fondle his member while it protruded stiffly from the water, while he fantasized about their new maid, Norma.
Once, Arnold had accidentally witnessed Norma getting dressed. She was a pretty, black haired girl of twenty-two, with a slender body but large breasts. For an instant, Arnold had glimpsed her bared bosom, twin gourds of heavy flesh, topped with dark red points. After that he would sometimes relive that moment while he was reclining in the tub, which increased his pleasurable sensations. He would wonder what those firm globes of flesh would feel like, what they would look like up close.
One summer afternoon, when Arnold's "Nanny," an older woman, wanted to slip off downtown for a couple of hours, she asked Norma, the maid, if she would watch Arnold for her. She said: "He's bathing right now, so you don't have to worry about him for probably a half hour. After that he'll most likely busy himself with his coin collection until I get back. Just make sure the little beggar doesn't get into any mischief or injure himself is all."
Norma agreed. About fifteen minutes later, as she was passing the bathroom, she noticed that there were no sounds of splashing coming from inside. There was no sound at all. Worried, she tried the door and found it unlocked. She pushed it slightly open and peered inside. She could see the bathtub but it did not seem to be occupied. There was no sign of the boy in the room. Now alarmed, she entered and walked over to the tub.
To her surprise, she saw Arnold lolling back in the water, submerged, except for his nose and mouth and his erect organ sticking straight up out of the water. His bunched fingertips were gently tugging at the glans. Norma stared in amazement, first because of what he was doing, secondly because of the dimensions of his aroused boyhood, which was as large as some men's she had seen.
It must be assumed because of what followed, that Norma suddenly found herself considerably aroused by the sight. As the boy removed his fondling hand for a moment, Norma compulsively reached out and substituted her own fingers on his throbbing, jumping, distended member. For several moments the boy remained quiescent and then suddenly realizing that the new, pleasant sensation meant that someone else was present, jerked upright out of the water to 'a sitting position, knocking Norma's hand away.
He stared at her, frightened and ashamed. He quickly placed a washcloth over himself. Norma now smiled at him warmly, her face flushed and quickly reassured him:
"It's all right, Arnold," she whispered. "I won't tell Nanny on you. I promise."
He didn't say anything, just continued to stare at her, unbelieving. Then he heard her say: "I didn't realize you were such a big, big boy. You know-I mean down there." She glanced toward the washrag that covered him. "I-I could hardly believe it. Let me see again."
He shook his head, turning crimson. "Uh-uh."
"Please, Arnold. I like to see. You have nothing to be ashamed of. In fact you ought to be proud of it. Come on, now, let's have a look." She reached out quickly and removed the washcloth. She gave a little disappointed sigh as she saw that his fright and embarrassment had caused him to return to a normal state. She clucked her tongue: "Ah, what a shame! Look what's happened to the poor thing. Let's see if we can't do something about that!"
She reached beneath the water, touched and began to fondle him. Arnold twisted away, cried out: "No, Norma! Please don't!"
"Nonsense! Why not? It'll feel even better if I do it. And you wouldn't want me to change my mind about telling Nanny or your mother about what I saw you doing, now, would you?" Under pressure of that threat, the boy remained still, let her have her way with him. In a few moments her twiddling fingers had the desired effect and Arnold was once more in a rigid state. The maid cooed and "Ah'ed" to herself as her breathing became quickened. Then she noticed that as she bent over the tub, Arnold's eyes were glued to the gaping front of her bodice. She glanced down and saw that much of her breasts, almost to the nipples, were being revealed to him.
"Oh, you naughty boy," she giggled. "Peeking at my pretties are you? Do you like them?" The boy couldn't answer. He merely turned his eyes away for a moment. Then he heard Norma say: "Perhaps you'd like to have a good look at them, eh? Well, get up onto your knees in the tub, so that I won't have to bend over so far and maybe I can arrange that for you."
With her free hand, she opened the top of her uniform down to the waist and then suddenly spread the sides open, revealing both jutting, pear-shaped breasts. Their dark red summits had now swollen into an erectile state. As Norma gaped, she rubbed and lifted them one at a time.
"This is what you wanted to see, isn't it, honey?" she purred. Then she helped him up to a kneeling position in the tub. She reached for a towel and dried his chest and buttocks and thighs and his quivering, pointing organ. Then her hand went back to its intimate caressing. After a while, she kneeled beside the tub and pulled Arnold toward her. She arched her chest and brushed the hardened tip of one breast, then the other against the glans of his excited boyhood, grasping and sighing her delight as she did so.
Arnold noticed that as she did this, her free hand suddenly disappeared up under the hem of her uniform and became violently active under the cloth, just below her stomach. She began to give forth little outcries, and her breathing became frantic.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Arnold asked curiously.
"Making-making myself feel good, too," she gasped.
In a few moments, she suddenly slid her hand down to his testes, cupped them and then lowered her face to him, her full, glistening red lips parted, her tongue darting between them. Arnold suddenly shivered as he felt himself encompassed for a few seconds by a gentle, warm moistness. Then she withdrew for an instant and glanced up at him, breathing harshly as she asked, heavy-eyed: "Did you like that, Arnold? Did it feel good?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"Better than my hand, even?"
"I guess so," he nodded.
Norma bent her head and this time set about fellating him with great zeal, as her hand beneath her uniform moved more and more rapidly. After awhile, she began snorting and moaning and then as she let him slip from her mouth, emitted an 'animal-like cry and had to cling to the side of the tub, to keep from keeling over, so violent was her climax.
After she recovered, she adjusted her clothing and swore Arnold to secrecy. From then on, every time they were in the house alone together and on Nanny's day off, Norma would give him a bath and follow through with the same routine. Once, she confided to Arnold that she didn't like "to have fun" with grown men because they always wanted to put it in her 'and she was deathly afraid of becoming pregnant. She began to refer to Arnold as her "little man." Over the months, as he continued to grow physically at a rapid rate and the size of his organ increased accordingly, Norma was more and more delighted.
Shortly after Arnold was twelve he began to show signs of very early adolescence. Sparse hair began to appear under his arms and around his genitals. Then, one day, Arnold was in the living room, sprawled out on the floor, playing with a model toy. Norma was busy, cleaning up the room. After awhile, she climbed a portable step ladder, to dust off a high row of books. This caught Arnold's eye. He stopped playing with the model auto, his gaze fastening on the sight Norma was unwittingly affording him.
On the top step of the ladder, as she leaned far over to one side, she threw out one leg. Arnold was able to see all the way up under her skirt. He was fascinated. In their bathroom dalliance she had never exposed herself, except above the waist. Once when Arnold had asked her to show him what was below, Norma had just laughed and refused, telling him that he wouldn't want to see that because it was ugly.
At this moment, Norma was wearing panties but they were so loose fitting, she might just as well have not been wearing anything. With one leg out-flung, the panties stretched away at the crotch. Arnold was able to see all of Norma's long, white, plump thighs and the area between them. He didn't think that it was ugly, at all. He found it very exciting; the thick, dark growth and the labia it partially concealed.
So that's what she rubs so vigorously, he thought to himself. As he continued to look, he became violently excited. He quietly got to his feet and moved over to the ladder, bent and peered, at close range, now, up under Norma's uniform. He undid his clothing 'and began to manipulate himself. Just then Norma became aware of what was going on. She looked down, drew in a surprised breath and said, laughing: "You little devil, you, you ought to be ashamed. Well, you can't say I didn't warn you. Didn't I tell you it was ugly?"
Arnold shook his head. "Uh-uh. It isn't 'at all. I like to look at it."
Norma now had brought her legs together and was holding her skirt close to them. Her eyes darkened with sudden passion and her face flushed as she watched Arnold's hand moving furiously on himself. She quickly climbed down the ladder. "Did you really like it?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yes. Let me see it again!"
She moved to a couch. "All right," she whispered. "But where's Nanny?"
"She went to the store, won't be back for half an hour at least."
Norma sighed. "That's plenty of time. Come here, then." She reached up under her uniform and pulled down her panties. They fell about her ankles and she kicked them off. "I'll teach you something new."
She sat down on the couch, flipped her uniform skirt back and raised her legs, bringing her heels up onto the edge of the sofa, spreading her thighs. Arnold, standing before her, gawked at this complete exposure. He watched, breathing hard, as Norma's hand moved to herself, began to explore and then manipulate. Soon her breathing was also labored, and her lips were wet 'and open, as she gasped out her pleasure. Her face took on the slack look that comes with intense sexual excitement.
After a few moments, she gasped, more to herself than to Arnold: "I guess it'd be all right; you're still too young to really do anything." Then, directly to him, she said: "Move closer to me, Arnold."
Eagerly, he obeyed. Norma pulled him even closer. She reached down, removed his hand and replaced it with her own. She guided him and when he was in place, reached around him, clasping his buttocks and yanking him hard toward her. She gave out a small, wailing cry as she received him completely. She then lay back, eyes walling upward, grasping for breath.
"Do-do you like this, too, Arnold?"
"Yeah," he admitted.
Then she told him how to move. After he started, she circled her legs around his waist, opened her bodice and placed his hands on her fleshy, bared breasts. She came to moaning, sobbing completion twice before she finally relinquished him.
From then on they alternated their "new" game as Arnold thought of it, with the bathroom sessions, sometimes combining both, when Norma would undress and get in the tub with him.
This went on for several months until during one session, Arnold's eyes went wild and he began to exclaim excitedly. Norma watched his face with sudden alarm. "What's the matter?" she demanded.
"Oh, I don't know!" he cried, moving wildly, now. "Oh! I can't stand it! Oh, something-something's going to happen Oh ... Oh!...."
Norma suddenly shoved him violently away from her, just in time to see him spurt to completion for the first time.
"What-what did you do that for?" he asked, stunned. "Just when it was getting to the best it ever was!"
"You stupid boy!" she told him, angrily. "Don't you know what happened? You little fool, you could have given me a baby!"
Arnold looked crestfallen. He looked down at himself. "Is that what that is?"
"Of course, you ignorant little lout." Norma quickly adjusted her clothing. "Now we can't ever do that again!"
Arnold felt as though he'd been slapped in the face. He didn't know what to say or do. He watched Norma flounce angrily out of the room.
A few days later, he called her into the bathroom while he was in the tub. Norma came to the door, a frown on her pretty face, as she watched Arnold raise himself out of the water, exposing his excited condition. He grinned at her. "Come on, Norma," he said. "At least we can do what we used to do at first."
"Are you crazy?" she snapped. "With that nasty stuff coming out of you? Forget it. I don't want to ever see that ugly thing again."
She wheeled and left the room. Arnold stared after her, already wilting. He suddenly felt very small and young and alone. He felt as though he wanted to cry but couldn't.
A few days later, Norma left the employ of that family. Arnold's father and mother then decided that instead of hiring a new maid, they would close up the house and take a trip to Europe, meanwhile ending Arnold's private tutoring and sending him to military school.
Arnold's story came to light, many years later, when at the age of twenty-four, an almost hopeless alcoholic, he required psychiatric attention. It was learned that Arnold had continued his schooling until he was twenty, when his father and mother were both killed in an airplane crash. At that time Arnold was not grief stricken; he had never known anything from them but superficial affection. He was almost pleased because as the only heir, he inherited his father's business and was quite a wealthy young man.
During his teens, away at school, Arnold continued to masturbate, always fantasying various sex acts with a pretty maid. Sometimes it was Norma, in his fantasies; other times he would substitute other pretty girls, perhaps the face and body of one that had attracted him on the street. At the age when other boys were dating, Arnold remained shy and unsure with the opposite sex. He dated very seldom and when he did, made no improper advances.
During the year after his father and mother's death, Arnold was introduced to a beautiful blonde call girl. He felt sexually attracted to her and when he learned that she would spend the night with him and let him do whatever he wanted for $200, he arranged the deal. It didn't work. No matter what the girl did, Arnold remained impotent. This caused him terrible embarrassment. Yet, after she left, he began to think about her and visualized the young lady wearing a maid's uniform. Almost instantly, he was aroused. And this gave him a sudden inspiration....
The next day he went out and purchased a maid's outfit, and then made arrangements for the girl to return to his swank apartment. Excitedly he explained what he wanted her to do, and for an extra hundred dollars, she agreed. While the girl changed into the maid's outfit, Arnold went into the bathroom, ran the tub, disrobed and got into the tub. Then he called out to the girl. They repeated Arnold's first experience with Norma, and Arnold was now far from being impotent. Later, out in the living room, he had the girl parade around the room, again in the maid's uniform and not wearing any panties beneath it. He lay on the floor, looking up under her skirt. When he could wait no longer, he took her roughly and quickly, on the couch.
The next day Arnold made arrangements, at tremendous expense, for the head of the call girl syndicate to send him a different girl every week; she would come to his place in the capacity of a maid, take care of all the maid's duties, but be available for whatever sex play he desired, whenever he was so inclined.
In that manner, for two years, Arnold's sexual needs were administered to. But then suddenly, through poor management and bad investments, his business went bankrupt. Arnold was no longer a wealthy man. He still retained some small stock investments which brought him in just barely enough to live comfortably. He could, of course, no longer afford the call girl "maids." Several times, in desperation, when he would meet an attractive young lady and find himself under ordinary circumstances, impotent, he would try to talk her into "playing maid" with him. The girls would always demur, obviously thinking that he was some kind of a nut.
At the same time, Arnold no longer found any satisfaction in onanism. Then he discovered that if he drank enough liquor, his sexual impulses would eventually be almost completely dulled. He began to drink more and more; to be drunk most of his waking hours. A year or so later, he was taken to a hospital after an attack of the D.T.'s. Part of his treatment as an alcoholic included regular psychiatric therapy sessions. It was during this period that his story was gradually brought forth.
It took nearly three years of treatment before Arnold could finally fully understand and accept his own psychic problem, to understand the effect his parents lack of love, combined with Norma's seduction and his continuing sexual dependency upon her during his pubescent years, had ultimately had upon him, and the extent of the emotional disturbance it had caused, even 'apart from his sexual aberration.
The foregoing case dramatically points up what can happen because of the neglect of wealthy, too socially busy parents, and an 'almost complete lack of supervision of the child-servant relationship.
There have been similar cases in which a homosexual relationship developed between a boy and a male servant in the household; between young girls and female servants. There are others in which the servants, themselves, were victims of exploitation, because of what they thought of as their lowly position, and fear of being released from service, if they objected.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE GARDENER
Nearly all large estates require the services of a full time gardener and sometimes an assistant. The assistant is pretty much a glorified handy man, sometimes on a part time basis, who mows the lawns, trims and prunes trees and shrubbery and performs other necessary manual labor.
The gardener is usually an older, more skilled 'and knowledgeable man. An experienced floriculturist and landscape artist, he spends much of his time in the greenhouse, growing popular flowers for show purposes by the Madame or for decorative use in the home.
Today, due to the current health food fads, on some private estates, sections of some greenhouses are devoted to the raising of organically grown fruits, vegetables and herbs. And also in some of them, where some member of the household may have a predilection for pot or grass, marijuana plants are grown.-The popular stereotype of a gardener depicts a kindly, possibly doddering old man, who loves nothing better than to putter around his flowers and potted plants. In a great many cases, this description does more or less apply. He seldom has 'anything to do with the other servants and because he does not work in the home, is not involved with their problems. As older men, gardeners are rarely involved in any hanky panky of a sexual nature with female servants or the women of the family for whom he works.
Children of nearly all ages are fascinated by the warm, moist coziness of a hothouse, the exotic scents rising from the lush, tropical foliage and the vividly colored flowers. They are probably the most frequent visitors. Then, too, the gardener may be a kindly, elderly man, who, due to the nature of his work is often lonesome and enjoys the visits of wide-eyed youngsters who show genuine interest. Because there are not too many pressures to his job, he also has the time and patience to chat with them for long intervals, explaining the workings of nature.
Here again, caution and common sense should be used by parents in the supervision of the relationship between children and domestic employees. Unfortunately, though most gardeners are kindly men of honor and high moral caliber, their occupation is no more exempt than any other from the occasional employment of sexual deviates of all kinds. Because of this, if children are spending inordinately long periods in the greenhouse, the situation should be investigated.
Chances are that nothing of an immoral nature is going on but it is always better to be safe than sorry.
The same thing applies to public greenhouses. A great many city parks are equipped with greenhouses. Children visiting such parks should be warned not to enter such places alone, nor to allow themselves to be lured inside. In most cases it would probably be safe, but there is no real way of knowing.
In a midwest city a few years back, a city employed gardener was finally arrested for molesting little girls. His approach was simple because he was especially partial, it seemed, to girls of eleven or twelve-years old, with newly budding breasts. Because they are still only partially developed, children of this age seldom wear brassieres. This man would watch for girls in this age group going to 'and fro from the playground near the greenhouse. When he saw one or two that took his fancy, he would call them over and ask if they would like a nice banquet. What little girl wouldn't?"
He would insist, though, that they must wear the little bouquets pinned to their blouse or sweater, right over their hearts. As he pinned them on, just, of course, to make sure that he didn't stick them with the pin, he would thrust one hand down inside the blouse or sweater and under pretense of protecting their flesh from being scratched, would move his hand around until the backs of his fingers brushed against a tender nipple. If there was any negative reaction to this and there nearly always was, he would instantly withdraw his hand and tell the little girl he was having too much trouble and perhaps she should do it herself.
Sometimes, because of childish innocence or possibly even curiosity, there was no negative reaction. Then, with one excuse or another, the gardener would fumble around with the bouquet pinning job, meanwhile, having his fill of feeling the tiny nipple become erect against his toying fingers. When this happened, he would single out the girl and watch for her to be alone at some later date.
He would then lure her into the greenhouse, show her the various plants and flowers, taking every opportunity to brush his hand against her tiny breasts, through the cloth of her blouse or dress. Then he would again go through the pinning-on-the-bouquet ruse, lingering longer this time. If there was again no negative reaction, he would grow more bold and turn his hand about so as to cup the newly swelling breast. If the girl was not alarmed by this, made no effort to pull away, he would drop all pretense of being busy with the bouquet and boldly squeeze and feel the fledgling mounds, rubbing the tender tips with his fingers.
He would not occupy himself too long in this manner the first time. After a few moments, he would reluctantly withdraw his hand. He would then chat pleasantly with the little girl for a few moments, then send her out, telling her to come back again the next time she wanted 'a pretty bouquet.
If she came back, the gardener would feel he was on safer ground this time, would figure she was either too innocent to realize that she shouldn't let him take such privileges or that possibly she enjoyed it, too. The second time, he would simply present her with a bunch of flowers and then point out different species to her and surreptitiously slip his hand down inside her blouse or sometimes through the loose underarm of it and without any pretense once again boldly play with her breasts.
It was presumed that this was his usual method because under police questioning, he admitted that he had done this to at least a dozen other young girls, before one of them turned him in. This was the method he used, as described by the girl who finally reported him.
In her case, during her second visit, he took her on a tour of the greenhouse. As they walked, he affectionately slipped his arm about her waist and then slid his hand up under her blouse and clasped her bared breasts.
When they reached the rear of the greenhouse, where they were completely shielded from sight of anyone who might enter, the gardener sat down on a bench and pulled the girl onto his lap. He jounced her there, playfully, while he felt her breasts. Then he began to tell her that he loved little girls like her because they were like newly blooming flowers. As he kissed her hair and ears, he said: "These pretty little things that I'm holding in my hands are like tiny new blossoms. And these-" he now was teasing her nipples with his fingertips, "-are like delicate, tiny little rosebuds. Could you let me see them, too, dear? I'm dying to see how pretty they are. Ah, how excited they get when I toy with them!"
At first the girl wouldn't let him unbutton her blouse but then, weakening under the effect of his intimate blandishments, she stopped protesting, and his fingers tremblingly undid her blouse. He gasped and uttered exclamations of delight as he parted the cloth and exposed her small, white, pink-topped, tip-tilting breasts. His hands flew to caress them once more and then suddenly, he bent his face and took one of the tender peaks between his lips and raked it with his tongue.
After a moment the girl pushed his face away. "Don't do that!" she said, sharply.
"I-I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It didn't hurt, did it?'
"No but it tickled. I felt funny."
Then she slipped from his lap. "I've got to go, now." He pleaded with her to stay awhile longer but she now acted nervous and said she had to go home. He begged her not to tell anybody about their "little secret."
For several days she didn't go back but when she did, and the gardener stood near the entrance, talking with her, she finally pointed and said, "can we go back there again?"
"Of course, my dear," lie told her. He led her to the sheltered rear of the greenhouse and once there, seated himself on the bench and lost no time in opening her blouse, manually caressing her breasts for awhile and then taking them in his mouth. This time she made no objection to this. more intimate petting. After awhile, the gardener asked her: "Does that feel nice to your little rosebuds? Does it feel good?" Without looking at him, she shrugged her shoulders, said: "Sort of-I guess. You want to do it some more?"
He need no other invitation. After several other visits, one afternoon the gardener decided to go further. Tremendously excited after a session of fondling and mouthing her budding breasts, he exposed himself and with a few manual strokes, ejaculated, accompanying this with great groanings and guttural sounds.
The little girl watched, wide-eyed. Then she became frightened, turned, and ran from the greenhouse. Later that day, she told a friend what had happened and that "seeing his big ugly thing" frightened her, "especially when that nasty stuff came out all over everything!" The friend told an older sister and the story finally got back to the little girl's mother, who was horrified. She forced the little girl to admit the truth. Then she went to the authorities. Others advised her not to do this, but this woman had the courage of her convictions and knew that unless the gardener was stopped now, he would probably victimize other little girls, and might eventually kill one of them. If more parents of molested children took this attitude, the incidence of its occurrence could be cut down considerably.
The young female juvenile officer, assigned to the case, asked the child why she allowed the man to take Such privileges in the first place. Her innocently candid answers show why child seduction is sometimes so relatively easy, and why laws against it cannot be too strict.
She said: "Well, first of all, I liked him. He was a nice man and he gave us flowers. When he-you know-touched me here-" She motioned to her breasts, "-I thought it was just an accident while he was pinning on the bouquet. Anyhow, it didn't hurt or anything and I guess it felt kind of funny, kind of good. Then, later, when he seemed of think it was so much fun, well, I didn't want to stop him, get him mad at me, or anything."
"But didn't you have any idea what he was doing was wrong?"
"Uh uh. If he'd touched me down there I would." She gestured toward her crotch. "But not up here. Nobody ever told me. I didn't think he'd be doing it if it was wrong. But-but then when he-you know-oh, I knew that was bad, that was wrong because that, his-you know-well it can give you a baby, so I got scared. It was awful!" She began to shudder and shake with fear.
The man involved was charged on three separate counts. He was finally allowed to plead guilty to, and was sentenced on one of the lesser counts, with the provision that he submit to psychiatric treatment.
In another case cited to researchers, the gardener of a big private estate had been working for the same people for a number of years, and was well respected in the community. Unfortunately, the man had a secret vice which he managed to keep hidden for many years. He was what is known in police slang as "a rubber," a man whose main source of sexual satisfaction is pressing his genitals against and between the buttocks of women, preferably very young ones. At every parade or festival in the city nearby, the gardener would show up and station himself behind some shapely young teen or pre-teenager. His movements hidden by the solid press of the crowd, using the crowded conditions as an excuse, he would first feel with his hands the jutting roundness of the girl in front of him. Sometimes he would run the edge of his hand up and down in the deep cleft between her buttocks until he was fully aroused. Then he would press closer, placing his erectness in the same place. Then he would press 'and rub, sometimes achieving climax, sometimes not. When he didn't, he would later masturbate while fantasying the whole episode and thinking about how much further he would go, if he had the girl alone with him.
There were no children belonging to the family who owned the estate where this man worked. Then one summer a niece of the owner spent her vacation with them. Her name was Ingrid, and although she was not quite thirteen, she was a big girl physically. Her breasts were as smooth and round and hard as apples. Her hips already had a womanly flare, and her thighs were long and full fleshed. She had a pretty face and short-cropped, glossy black hair. With makeup and dressed more maturely, she could have passed for being several years older.
As in the case with a lot of girls of that age, her parents kidded themselves that by not allowing her to wear makeup, dressing her still as though she were a child, that they could postpone the inevitable beginnings of sexual development and accompanying urges.
With Ingrid they couldn't have been more wrong. She had begun to masturbate at ten or eleven, and for the past year had been experimenting sexually with the son of a family friend. The boy was a couple of years older. They had manipulated each other to climax; she had fellated him and engaged in awkward, and for her, unsatisfactory, acts of coitus.
The first time the gardener saw this pretty, sexually precocious young visitor, he was almost beside himself with excitement. He said later, that she knew, right off that he was going to "have fun with her," just by "the way she looked at me; the expression in her eyes."
He was a man in his late forties, stockily built and rather ordinary looking. He had never been married, and was actually awed by women, especially sexually attractive ones. Psychiatrists suspect that this is probably true of all "rubbers" or frotteurs, the medical term for this type of aberrant. Their sex drive is buttock, oriented, it is thought, because being behind the partner gives them the feeling "of not being seen;" they do not have to face her during the act.
This was true of the gardener. The once or twice a month that he visited prostitutes, he always had sexual relations with them from the rear.
The first time he was introduced to Ingrid, he was particularly impressed by the full, high, round rise of her derriere, so clearly delineated beneath the tight blue jeans she wore.
The third day of her visit, Ingrid came to the greenhouse alone, announcing that her aunt and uncle had left her alone for the afternoon and she was bored. She hoped she wasn't bothering the gardener by her presence, she said. She was "bothering" him all right but not in the way she meant. He was, of course, most gracious and welcoming of her presence. He took her on a guide of the greenhouse and when they would stop to closely examine certain plants and flowers, sometimes he would induce her to bend over and smell them.
Ingrid was wearing a one-piece, loose fitting "playsuit" of thin cotton. As she would bend over to sniff at a fragrant blossom, the gardener would covertly watch the prominent globes of her buttocks strain against the suddenly tightening cloth, outlining the long, deep indentation between them. He became wildly aroused and after awhile his compulsion became too great to control. The next time she leaned over, he let his hand lightly rest in the division between the two out-jutting rounds. He was trembling violently, waiting for a reaction. He knew from his experience with girls in crowds that sometimes at first they didn't realize what he was doing. In such cases when he grew more bold, his intentions became obvious and he knew the girl was aware of what he was up to. Sometimes she would turn and give him a dirty look or some other sign of disapproval, or perhaps twist away. If this didn't happen, he assumed the girl either didn't mind, or perhaps even liked what he was doing. He would proceed accordingly.
Now, with Ingrid, when there was no reaction at the first contact of his hand, he pressed it deeper against her. She still continued to bend over and sniff 'at the different flowers. The pressure of his hand was such, now, that the gardener knew she must be aware of what was going on.
Finally, she straightened up and gave him a kind of wise, knowing smile. As she moved along the aisle, ahead of him, between the plants, he reached out 'and gave her prominent rump a playful pat. She looked back and made a wry face at him.
The next time they stopped, as she leaned way over to examine a rare tropical plant two or three rows from the aisle, the gardener became so excited he threw caution to the winds. He now boldly placed his palm on one steeply rising buttock and then the other, stroking and then squeezing, kneading the poutingly firm flesh. As he did so, he kept pointing out other plants for her to examine, to keep her in a forward-arched position. Now he was boldly fondling her and then, losing control altogether, he placed himself behind her and pushed against her. His rigidity positioned itself between the swelling mounds of flesh. He could hardly suppress a groan of delight.
After a few moments, she straightened up and he quickly moved away, noticing that her eyes instantly glanced toward the distended front of his trousers, and lingered there. He knew then that she was very well aware of what he had been doing.
At this point they were only a few yards away from the gardener's "office," a corner where he had a desk and did his paper work. There were some seed and plant catalogues on the desk and he now asked Ingrid if she would like to see them. He guided her toward the desk. She leaned over, resting one elbow on the desk, as she slowly flipped the pages of the catalogues.
The gardener stood behind her and slightly to one side, feasting his eyes on the protruding special objects of his delight. Again his hand moved to her and this time, he forced it down and part way between her thighs. In a moment she clamped her thighs closed, imprisoning his hand. He almost swooned with this recognition of her acceptance. He began to work and move his fingers against her warm softness, expertly. She kept opening and closing her thighs. Finally, almost insane with lust, he reached down and slipped a hand up under the loose fitting pants of the playsuit and pushed it up and onto her moistly welcoming sex organs. She gave out with a little gasp and began breathing hard and audibly as his fingers explored and experimented.
After several minutes of this manipulation, he suddenly withdrew his hand and moved directly behind her. He placed his throbbingly excited male virility carefully, and then rammed against her, taking hold of her hips to steady her. He felt Ingrid push back at him, and this encouraged him to hunch and jam against her delicious softness more and more wildly until suddenly with a little cry, he lost control and exploded.
When he finally sheepishly and guiltily moved away, Ingrid turned, studied for a moment the great stain on the front of his trousers, then gave him a slight smile and said, softly: "I'd better go now. I'll see you again."
Two days later, she returned. This time she looked flushed and anticipative and the gardener wasted no time. He took her straight to the desk. Today, she was wearing a skirt and blouse. As soon as she bent over, again pretending to study the catalogues, he slipped his hand up under the skirt, and began caressing her bare, smooth, fleshy thighs. He then moved his hand higher to cup the plump moons beneath her silken panties. A few minutes later, he forced the panties down around her ankles. He caressed and fondled the smooth flesh thus exposed and then flipped the back of the skirt up around her waist. He gasped at all that was revealed to him. He murmured: "Oh, beautiful! So beautiful!"
Then he exposed himself and moved against her. It took only a few moments of contact with her warm, smooth bareness to bring him to the point of no return. At the last instant, he swung away from her and finished himself manually, as Ingrid turned her head and watched with what was obviously excited awe and interest. "Oh, my!" she finally blurted. "How big you are! I can hardly believe it."
When it was over, Ingrid swiftly pulled her panties back up into place again, giving him an arch smile, left the greenhouse. The gardener could hardly believe his good luck; that he had found a young and luscious lover who seemed to more than welcome his attentions. He was also a little frightened, a little guilt-stricken. But not for long. He soon pushed such thoughts aside and began to contemplate what further delights might be in store for him.
The next time Ingrid visited the greenhouse, he suggested that they would have more privacy if they retired to his small cottage adjoining the rear of the greenhouse. She readily agreed. After ascertaining that the girl's aunt and uncle would be away all afternoon, he quickly locked the cottage door, drew the blinds and then moved to Ingrid, standing, waiting, in the middle of the room.
With trembling fingers he undid her skirt and let it fall. Her panties soon followed. He went wild at the sight of her naked from the waist down. His hands quickly sampled all of her smooth flesh, stroking, squeezing, patting with one hand, while he manually stimulated her with the other.
Then, panting, he straightened, quickly loosened and let drop his own lower clothing. Again Ingrid made admiring remarks about his dimensions and he guided her hot, willing little hand toward him. Now it was her turn to fondle and caress, as he turned his attentions to unbuttoning her blouse and removing it. The sight and feel of her bared, apple-round breasts and their perky pink tips excited him even more. He caressed them with his hands, and then his lips and tongue as they manually stimulated each other. Finally, his digital teasing brought her to a sudden arching, thrusting, groaning and gasping completion.
Now he got behind her in his favorite position, pressing and surging against the jutting, resilient plumpness, while with one hand he toyed with her breasts and with the other digitally aroused her to orgasm twice more. Then he finally climaxed in wild action against her smooth, bare softness.
In the next few weeks, Ingrid visited him at every opportunity. They lingered longer and longer as the gardener took more and more sexual liberties with her, finally engaging her in coitus from the rear. They varied positions: standing, bending over, lying down. After the first time, he was frightened about getting her pregnant. Ingrid reassured him; she told him that she would borrow her aunt's douche equipment and that would take care of that!
Sometimes they would engage in cunnilingus and fellatio. Ingrid was extremely sensual and often he would bring her, by one means or another, to a climax four or five times to his once. During these times she would tell him in detail about her previous experiences with her fifteen-year-old male friend, and how much larger and more satisfactory in every way, he, the gardener, was.
Meanwhile, unknown to Ingrid, her aunt had discovered that somebody had been using her douche equipment. She was shocked to conclude that it must have been her niece. There was no other answer. The only other people in the house during these times the aunt had been away were an elderly housekeeper and the butler. Then the aunt questioned the housekeeper about Ingrid's activities, and learned that whenever she, the aunt, was out for the morning or afternoon, Ingrid would also leave and be gone for several hours. She had told the housekeeper that she was just going for a walk around the grounds.
The aunt consulted with her husband, who was almost as unbelieving, at first. Then the two decided to investigate. On a Sunday afternoon, they told Ingrid that they were going to the beach and invited her along. She refused, claiming that she didn't feel too good. The aunt and uncle's suspicions increased. They knew from past visits that Ingrid loved to go to the beach. They left the house a little later and then doubled back to check on Ingrid. She was not in the house. They began to search the grounds.
When they finally reached the gardener's cottage and found it locked, they began to peek in the windows. Under a quite not fully drawn blind in the bedroom, they were able to see inside. They were shocked to the point of nausea to see the older man and the young girl, both nude. The gardener was sitting on the edge of the bed. Ingrid was lying face down, beside him, her head resting on his thigh while she fellated him. At the same time, he was caressing the upthrust plumps of her backside.
The uncle, infuriated almost to the point of insanity, broke down the door, stormed in and beat the gardener into unconsciousness with his fists. Ingrid became hysterical and had to be put under the care of their private physician. The gardener was hospitalized, then arrested on various morals charges.
The unpleasant task of informing Ingrid's parents of what had happened, was finally executed. Fearing that the scandal might completely wreck the young girl's life if publicly aired, the parents refused to press charges against the gardener. These charges were dismissed with the admonition that the man seek psychiatric aid at a county mental health clinic. Two days later he disappeared. He apparently left the city.
Ingrid, of course, received the best of medical care. A special physical examination revealed the fact that her early masturbation had caused her to have an over-developed clitoris. During psychotherapy, she was finally able to consciously recall earlier childhood incidents that she had "forgotten"-that from the time she was three or four-years-old up until when she was six or seven, a nursemaid had digitally stimulated her sexual organs almost every night. It was thought that these incidents also contributed to Ingrid's clitoral over-development, and her premature and excessive sexuality.
Very slowly and gradually, she began to respond to psychiatric treatment....
The obvious conclusion here, as with other cases of child molestation by domestic employees, is that none of this would have happened, if the aunt and uncle had given closer supervision to the activity of their visiting niece.
There are, however, other conclusions, not so obvious but perhaps more pertinent. Perhaps the sexuality with the gardener might not have occurred had the aunt and uncle more closely supervised Ingrid's activities. But it might still have occurred with some other older man of a similarly depraved nature, at some other place. Ingrid's excessively sensual nature made her ripe and ready for it at the first opportunity. The reasons for this were twice listed. Ingrid's earlier molestation by a servant girl. This could have been prevented by her parents under closer supervision. Later, if the parents were knowledgeable enough, honest enough with themselves, to face the fact that even at the early age of nine or ten-years old, girls are likely to enter into the habit of masturbation, they could have become aware of what was going on, consulted their pediatrician as to the best way to attack the problem.
Again, the parents were lax in either not knowing about, or allowing the possibility of an older boy to be alone with their daughter under circumstances which would allow sexual experimentation.
Thus we see that Ingrid's affair with the gardener was an end result, really and not a cause of her problems. This particular man might not have been the perpetrator-or the victim-depending how you look at it-of this messy situation. He had, according to the stories he told Ingrid, engaged in frottage ("rubbing" as the police term it) with young girls in crowded public places, many, many times.
If the laws against this misdemeanor were strengthened, more strictly enforced; if the public in general were made more aware of how common and wide spread this practice is, the man would probably have been apprehended and forced to submit to psychiatric treatment long before the Ingrid incident.
In any large city, police officials will tell you that the "rubbers" are a big law enforcement problem. They fully know that right out in public, at crowded events, girls from nine or ten-years old right through the teens-and in some instances the victims are mature women, although this is much less common-this molestation occurs.
Perhaps if the public was alerted to the fact that such 'a sexual aberration does exist, it would happen less frequently. Most people do not even know about it. Police detectives assigned to watch for pickpockets at crowded public events, state that they have seen a frotteur at work on a pubescent girl while one or sometimes both of her parents stand next to her. All too frequently the child involved is innocent and thinks that the whole thing is accidental. Or else she is too embarrassed to complain to her parents; wouldn't perhaps, even know how to put it into words. The frotteur knows all this, and he takes advantage of it. He also knows that if and when there is a complaint against him, charges are seldom pressed. The parents doesn't want to be "bothered" or is 'afraid of a false arrest charge, as evidence is difficult to produce in these cases.
When they do come into court, the charge is usually just "jostling," a misdemeanor.
Yet most police officials, especially those with some kind of education in abnormal psychology, know that this practice is not necessarily a "misdemeanor." They know that as with all sex offenders, the longer they go unapprehended, the greater the possibility for their 'acts to become progressively more dangerous. Any "peeping Tom," any exhibitionist, given the precisely right opportunity, will go many steps further and engage in outright overt, illegal sex acts.
Exactly as did the gardener, the frotteur in the foregoing case history.
CHAPTER FIVE
TUTORS AND STUDENTS
Teachers, from generations past, to the present, from the junior high school level right through graduate school, have had to learn to cope with "crushes," infatuations on the part of some student or students, toward them. Training and advice on this subject is offered in many normal school and other teacher-training courses. It is not as simple a problem as it might seem on the surface.
A beautiful, curvaceous coed who thinks she is in love with her distinguished looking, middle-aged professor, can be a difficult emotional experience for them both. The same thing applies on the junior or senior high school level, especially today when even a thirteen-year old girl's physical maturity is made so pronouncedly known by the tight sweaters and/or mini-skirts that are being worn. The early use of lipstick and eye-makeup can make what might ordinarily be just a pretty child, into a seductive young female.
Because it is natural for an older man to be flattered by the obvious attentions of a lovely, much younger girl, it sometimes takes considerable moral strength to resist the temptation to take advantage of the situation.
Yet if the situation is merely ignored or not even recognized as in a case where the young female does not force attention upon her 'crush," sometimes serious emotional problems for the youngster can result. A good example of this is related in the best selling novel about life in a New York high school, Up The Down Staircase, where the girl in love with a teacher is snubbed and commits suicide.
There are reverse situations, too, wherein a teacher finds himself strongly attracted to one of his young students. Unless he is of extremely high moral caliber, it is difficult for such a man not to try to use his position of authority, to further his desires.
Usually, these situations involve female students with male teachers, but not always. Especially in rural areas, where because of low salaries and educational and experience requirements on a lower level, girls only slightly older than some of their students are hired to teach high school subjects. In such areas, the twelfth grade often contains male students of eighteen or nineteen-years of age. They are grown men, physically. If the pretty young teacher is herself scarcely twenty-years old, it is easy to see how an emotional or even a sexual involvement might evolve.
In the small high school of a rural Southeastern town, a voluptuous red-haired English teacher, only twenty-years old, was caught after hours in the deserted library stacks of the school, with the handsome, eighteen-year old star of the football team. The school custodian discovered them by accident. He later described what he had seen to male members of the school board. The young man had been sitting on a chair, with his jeans in a heap at his ankles. The pretty redheaded teacher was straddling him, her skirt hiked to her waist, her undergarment dangling from one ankle, her blouse was open, her bra pushed up and exposing both plumply pouting white breasts as she moved up and down on him in wanton sexual excitement. The teacher was promptly fired.
Most teachers, fortunately, are well enough balanced emotionally, have sufficient moral strength to 'avoid such situations when they are faced with a "crush" on the part of a student, or on their own part. They can handle them in a wise and diplomatic manner.
The same thing applies to private tutors. Although teachers are civil servants rather than domestic ones, tutors, in a broader sense of the meaning, can come under the category of domestic employees because they usually perform their job in the employer's home. In some cases they actually live there, as part of the domestic staff.
Because parents are often careless in a choice of a tutor, checking mainly on the scholastic background of the person to be hired and ignoring the personal factors-and then commit the even graver mistake of not maintaining constant and complete supervision over the relationship between student and tutor-tragic situations sometimes result.
There have been cases where obviously homosexual males have been hired to tutor young teenage males. The parents were completely blinded by the man's educational background and experience to the point where they were unaware or perhaps didn't even care about his morals.
Old roues have been brought into homes to tutor physically mature adolescent and even pubescent girls. The dangers of this sort of thing are obvious.
The case that follows demonstrates, at least in this particular instance, how a tragedy can occur when parental supervision is lax or even almost non-existent.
CASE HISTORY
LILLIAN AND MISS MARTHA
At sixteen, Lillian L. was a very pretty, extremely shapely girl but of an intensely retiring and shy nature because of a severe case of facial acne afflicting her for several years. Extremely withdrawn, she never dated, had no close girl friends. In her junior year of high school, her self-consciousness about her skin condition reached a peak. She began to feign illness in order to stay away from school. Her school work consequently suffered badly and eventually, she failed a grade.
Her parents, although not wealthy, were well-off and owned a large, pleasant home. Their family physician advised them that Lillian's acne would probably eventually disappear by itself, as she approached maturity. Meanwhile, he suggested that regular visits to a dermatologist would help to at least some degree and if it was possible, perhaps it would be a good idea if the girl continued her education for the next year with a private tutor.
The parents talked it over and decided to follow the family doctor's advice. Lillian readily accepted the plan. After many interviews, the parents hired a young woman by the name of Martha G. She was twenty-six years old, a graduate student at a nearby university. For a couple of years, now, Martha had helped pay her expenses by tutoring. She was well recommended. She was a slender but completely feminine looking woman, with a piquantly pretty face, and long, flowing coal black hair. Since most of her classes at the university were in the morning, Martha would be able to devote four afternoons a week and part of the weekend to tutoring Lillian.
Since the L's home was within walking distance of the university, an equitable financial agreement was made, wherein, part of Martha's pay would be in the form of room and board at the L.'s house, the balance in cash. Both parties seemed happy with this arrangement.
Martha was quiet spoken and pleasant and she and Lillian hit it off right from the beginning. After several weeks, Martha found herself practically a member of the family. She spent considerable time with Lillian, even when she was not tutoring the younger girl. She played croquet with her, card games in the evening, and they spent a lot of time in the pool together. During that first month, for some reason, it never occurred to the L.'s that it was odd that a physically attractive woman such as Martha had no men friends, didn't even seem to think about dating. All that seemed important to them was that Lillian liked Martha and that their daughter, under her tutelage, seemed much happier and beginning to be more outgoing.
As are most lesbians, with designs on girls mush younger than themselves, Martha was extremely patient. From the first moment she had met this shy, shapely sixteen-year-old, she had felt the strong stirrings of desire, knew that she must have her eventually.
After the first week of their association, Lillian knew that she had 'a "crush" on Miss Martha. She found it strangely exciting just to be in the presence of the older woman. She beamed with the slightest compliment Miss Martha paid to her. She knew that Miss Martha liked her a lot, too.
Once, when they were alone, Martha leaned close to Lillian and looked deeply into the blonde girl's blue eyes and said: "Do you know, dear, that you're a very lovely young lady, so very, very pretty?"
"Oh, no!" Lillian said, blushing, her hands self-consciously flying to her pitted face. "How could I be?"
"Well, for one thing, beauty is not only skin deep. You literally glow with an inner beauty of soul. And the features of your face are really adorable. Nobody with any real perception would pay any attention to a few adolescent skin blemishes."
Martha's cool, long fingered hand then went out and gently stroked Lillian's pimply cheek. Lillian gasped, feeling a warm glow of gratitude flowing through her. "Oh, thank you," she answered. "That's the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me."
After that, Martha never lost an opportunity, when the parents weren't around, to lightly touch or caress Lillian on some part of her person. She continued to compliment her on her physical attributes, her hair, her carriage, her well shaped body.
Lillian's parents, completely accepting Martha, began to more and more leave them in the house alone together evenings and on weekends. At every opportunity, Martha on one pretext or another, would enter Lillian's room when she was Either dressing or undressing, catching a glimpse of Lillian's partially exposed breasts, buttocks or thighs. One time she entered the bathroom, right after the younger girl had taken a shower, and saw her completely nude for a flashing instant, before Lillian covered herself with a towel. She couldn't help b-t stare at the beautifully proportioned young body, breasts plump but firmly tip-tilting and pink; and the lyre like hips, tapering down into long, gracefully curved, silken smooth thighs, and at the almost imperceptible mound of dimpled tummy and the tiny tuft of golden ringlets below it.
Martha was so entranced that for a moment she was completely off-guard, and her sudden lustful longing must have shown in the expression on her face. Lillian cried out: "Miss Martha, you look so strange. What-what is it? You make me feel embarrassed!"
"Oh!" Martha forced back some semblance of composure. "I'm sorry, my dear. I didn't mean to. I just came in to get a hair brush. I-didn't know you were nude. But I really, sweet, you shouldn't feel embarrassed. You looked truly beautiful. With a goddess-like figure such as yours, it's a shame you should ever have to wear clothes." Then with a sweet, disarming smile, the older woman left.
One night, about a week later, the two were alone in the house for several hours. Lillian was wearing a rather loose fitting pair of shortie pajamas. She wore nothing beneath it. As she moved about the room, Martha watched Lillian's breasts, little round oranges jiggling and rolling beneath the thin cotton cloth, their sharp tips poking against the material. She noticed the way the loose fitting pajama bottoms clung to the high rise of Lillian's round derriere, the cloth clinging provocatively to the division between the oval plumps. She felt desire begin to surge through her like 'a raging fever. She knew she could wait no longer.
Suddenly Martha said: "Lillian, dear, you seem so restless tonight, so nervous. What's the matter? Is anything bothering you?"
Lillian looked at her, surprised. "Uh-uh. Why?"
"Oh, I don't' know. You're just sort of prowling around the room, at loose ends." Then, jumping out of her chair, with a coquettish smile, Martha said. "I know what you need-a nice relaxing massage!"
"I do?"
"Of course. Best thing in the world for you. Tones up the muscles, too. You just go over and sit on the couch and I'll be back in a jiffy."
Then Martha went to her room and from her drawer took a small, battery powered hand vibrator. She stood for a moment, fingering it lovingly and with anticipation. The instrument was similar to one that can be purchased in almost any drug or department store. It was cylindrical in shape, about seven and a half inches long and four inches in circumference at its base. The tip of it was bullet-shaped. The length of the shaft up to the three quarter mark was lightly ridged, vertically. The rest of it, including the tapered-to-a-dull-point tip, was smooth. Inside were two powerful small batteries. The vibrating motor was easily turned on by a twist of the cap at the base of the instrument. When in motion, the vibrations were quite strong, and the whole instrument grew quite warm.
Martha returned to Lillian, her eyes glowing wickedly. The young girl was seated upon the sofa. She stared curiously at what Martha held in her hand.
"What's that?" she wondered.
"The cutest, most effective little vibrator you ever saw."
"But what's it for?"
Martha laughed. "For a massage, silly. Here, look at it, yourself.' She pressed the instrument into Lillian's small hands. The young girl handled it gingerly.
"What an odd shape,' Lillian said.
"Oh, that's so that it's easy to apply to hard to get at places that sometimes need massaging." When Martha said that, she was almost positive that the other girl had blushed slightly. She wondered if the child had ever used one on herself.
"All right, now," Martha said, taking back the vibrator and turning it on. It gave out a soft, rather pleasant humming sound. "First we apply it around the neck. Fend over a little."
Lillian instantly obeyed and Martha lightly ran the vibrator over and around the nape of Lillian's neck, and the base of her skull. "How does it feel?"
"Oh, strange. Kind of tickly."
"But nice, eh?'
"Mmmmmm! Yes, once and you get used to it."
In a few moments, Martha had Lillian stretched out prone on her stomach, upon the couch. Now she ran the vibrator over her shoulders and back. She noticed that when she ran it along the sensitive hollow of Lillian's spine, the girl stiffened and gave a pleasurable gasp.
Martha kept saying, softly, soothingly: "There, baby, doesn't that feel good? Ah, here's a pleasant spot. Feel how warm this round hard thing is getting, as it soothes and caresses your body.
This is good for you, dear, stimulates the muscles and relieves nervous tensions you probably didn't even know you had."
When she ran the vibrator up over the sharp rise of Lillian's buttocks, she watched the firm flesh contact pleasurably. Martha said: "Most girls don't even realize that they have nerve centers which need relaxing, even in this area, too."
Then, lightly, teasingly, she ran the length of the warm, rapidly vibrating cylindrical tube along and down the sensitive cleft between Lillian's buttocks. The young girl gasped and squirmed. Martha gently placed a hand between her shoulder blades, holding her firm, as she quickly ran the vibrator along 'and down the backs of Lillian's thighs.
"Now, now," she said, soothingly. "Don't wriggle so. Just relax and enjoy it, trust your Martha to know what she's doing."
She ran the vibrator along the backs of Lillian's thighs and down over her calves and then back up again. On the return trip, she let the bluntly rounded bullet end of the instrument insert under the loose fitting bottoms of Lillian's shortie pajamas. She guided it high up the back of each thigh, pressing and rolling its vibrating action against the now obviously tingling, smooth, firm flesh.
"It-it would be better if I did this while you were nude, to get the full benefit," Martha suggested, huskily.
"Oh, no," Lillian said, quickly.
"Never mind, darling. It isn't really necessary, this time. These PJ's are loose fitting enough."
Now, she was running the long, round, warm instrument far up under the bottoms of the shortie pajamas, along the sensitive insides of Lillian's thighs. Suddenly, she slipped it all the way up and in between them, watched and felt the girl spasmodically tighten and close her thighs, clutching tightly the instrument now warm and tantalizingly vibrant, against her most sensitive 'area.
"Oh!" Lillian let out a squeal of delighted surprise. Then her thighs and buttocks relaxed and she gasped again. "Oh, no, not there!"
"Just for a moment, sweets," Martha cooed. "To relax those nerves and muscles, too.' She lightly pressed and moved the cylinder up and down, then quickly drew it out and ran it up over the girl's contracting buttocks and between them once more.
"There, now," Martha said. "That wasn't so bad, was it? Bet you feel better all ready. Now, toss over, pumpkin and let me do the front part, too."
Lillian looked around. Her face was already glowing with the first turbulence of artfully aroused sexual desire. She almost whimpered: "Do we have to?"
"Of course, dear. Just wait until you see how good it makes you feel. You'll sleep like a baby, tonight."
She gently helped the young girl over onto her back. "Now, just relax and close your eyes and enjoy it," Martha ordered.
During the next few minutes, she ran the warm vibrator over Lillian's shoulders, her collar bone, down over her heaving tummy and then along the tops of her thighs. Again, she returned the vibrator to the area of Lillian's chest. She could tell by the flush on the girl's face, her slackened mouth and heavy breathing, that she was now greatly aroused, sexually. Gently, she slid the hard, warm roundness of the rapidly quivering little machine down inside the top of Lillian's pajamas. With it she caressed the inner slopes of the upthrusting young breasts. She watched the tiny nipples perk up wildly, punch out the thin cloth with their excitement. Martha ran the vibrator completely inside the pajamas and over and around the whole of one thrusting hillock, feeling it bump gently over an erect, welcoming tip.
Lillian stiffened and quivered all over. "Oh, my gosh!" she gasped. "No! No!" She reached up and grabbed the instrument through the cloth but instead of moving it away, she clasped it to her breast, herself rubbing it 'against her nipple.
"No, steady, now," Martha said, softly. "We can't neglect these pretty things, can we? Just a moment and we'll go to other places."
She gently removed Lillian's hand and then ran the vibrator over onto the other breast. Again Lillian stiffened and shivered but offered no vocal protest. She was now breathing as though she had run a long way. Martha slid the vibrator out from under the top of the pajamas and next ran it over Lillian's tummy, then slightly under the waistband of the PJ's. From there, she began massaging the girl's thighs, now once more running the object, tingling and teasing and arousing nerve ends in a stimulating manner, up under the legs of the pajamas, along the insides of the thighs. At the same time, she casually spread the girl's thighs. Suddenly, she again inserted the cylinder all the way up, ran it quickly over the plump rise of her sensitive mount and then dipped it down, moving it teasingly up and down.
Again Lillian cried out and threw her head back, her spine arching. "Oh, don't!" she begged, whimpering. "Oh, please don't! I can't-can't stand that!" She writhed and twisted trying to get away from the vibrating roundness gliding over her vulva.
Martha expertly stayed with her movements, though, keeping the thing in place 'and ever-moving. She sensed now that the surface over which it was vibrating and rubbing, was slippery.
She whispered: "Just for a moment, baby. It feels good, doesn't it? I know. I do it to myself sometimes. It's like nothing else in the world. I love it. It drives me crazy."
Then, breasts heaving, spine arching and hips rolling, Lillian gave herself up complete to the wildly tantalizing and warm vibration between her thighs as it now played around the excitedly risen hub of all her sensuality. She alternately opened and then closed her thighs tightly, imprisoning the object for a few seconds. As Martha expertly probed and rubbed the entire area, Lillian's cries grew wilder. Finally her hips surged upward and her thighs gave one final tightening convulsion as she experienced her first fierce climax.
When it was over, the girl lay sobbing and still quivering as Martha gently withdrew the moist cylinder and turned it off. She lightly caressed Lillian's forehead with her fingertips, cool and soothing, at the same time that she gently explained to Lillian what had happened, assured her that it was normal and natural and nothing to be ashamed of. She told the girl that she had needed the experience; it had been good for her.
In a few minutes Lillian quieted and sprawled out, relaxed. Her eyes were closed, her forearm thrown over them. "I-I guess maybe you're right," she finally whispered. "I do feel more relaxed than I ever have before."
"Of course, Baby," Martha said. "Come on now, up to beddy-bye. You'll be asleep in seconds, and in the morning you'll feel better than you ever have before."
She helped Lillian up from the couch, guided her upstairs to her bedroom. She didn't put on the light. It was dark except for a faint glow from the other room. Martha turned back the covers of Lillian's bed, then turned to the girl.
"The most relaxing way to sleep after a good massage, is in the nude," she said. "Here, let me help you get your jammies off."
Lillian protested but when Martha told her not to be silly, it was so dark she couldn't see anything anyhow, she allowed the older woman to have her way. Naked, Lillian hopped into the bed and yanked the covers up over her. Martha said: "I'll be back in a moment to kiss you good night." She left, went quickly to her own room and instantly disrobed. Martha stood before her own mirror and looked at her naked body. She was tall and lithe, the hips and thighs slightly boyish, her breasts like halves of lemons, with their pale, elongated tips. Her alabaster flesh was aglow with a rosy hue of excitement. She picked up the vibrator from where she had placed it on the dresser, glanced at the clock. There was a full hour or more before Lillian's parents would return.
She moved softly back to Lillian's room. She bent over the bed, smoothed her fingertips along Lillian's forehead and then lowered her lips to the girl's. "Goodnight, my darling."
She lightly brushed her warm moist mouth against the sweet fullness of the girl's lips. She whispered: "I enjoyed giving you so much pleasure, angel. It was delicious, wonderful, wasn't it? I've never done it for anybody else. I did it for you because I love you, Lillian ... Oh, sweetheart!"
Quickly, she drove her mouth down onto the girl's, crushing, twisting there passionately, as her tongue darted out and entered the others' mouth. At the same time, she twisted the vibrator into operation, slid it down under the covers and between Lillian's open thighs, as she continued to kiss her voluptuously. When she felt the girl heave, clench the round machine to her sensitive parts with her tightening thighs, Martha let her mouth leave the girl's. She quickly threw back the covers, whispering: "Just once more, before you go to sleep. It'll be even better this time." Naked, Martha straddled the girl's stomach, her arm and wrist thrust down between her own legs as she worked the vibrator over Lillian's thoroughly aroused genitalia, and then caught the thickness of her own wrist between her tightening thighs, high up as she bent and kissed and tongued and took between her lips, Lillian's hot, taut nipples. Lillian just shuddered and gasped with each new sensation....
From that night on, Lillian was led completely along the path of Lesbos. She became a willing and eager pupil to her tutor, not only in the daytime, but at night when they were alone. She was caught up in a fierce, emotional involvement with the older woman. She felt that she would have died if she had to give Martha up. Because of her personality, her lack of other friends and lack of experiences with boys, Lillian's involvement was far more than sexual.
Most lesbians are extremely fickle. Martha was no exception. In a few weeks she began to tire of Lillian, found the younger girl's utter devotion a little cloying. Her attitude toward Lillian gradually cooled. Martha began to go out by herself, evenings. (Actually, she was beginning a new affair with a pretty little college freshman she'd met on the university campus.) Lillian was desolate and didn't realize what was happening. She began to brood, lose sleep and suffer loss of appetite. When her parents would question her, she would break into tears and run from the room.
Then one night, while Lillian's parents were out, Martha packed her things and told Lillian that she was leaving. She was moving to another city. (Actually she was moving to the freshman coed's apartment on the other side of town.) Lillian begged and pleaded with her not to leave. Tears streamed down her face. She got onto her knees, prostrated herself. It did no good.
"Don't be a silly, darling," Martha told her with a cool smile on her thin, aesthetically lovely face. "You'll get over it! You'll meet somebody else."
She turned and strode out of the house.
Two hours later, when Lillian's parents returned, they found their daughter sprawled on the bathroom floor, an empty bottle of sleeping pills near her small, outstretched hand. She was not quite dead.
When she recovered, nobody could get to her. She steadfastly refused to admit that her act had anything to do with Martha's leaving. In fact, she added, she was glad that the woman was gone, because they hadn't been getting along for quite awhile. She resisted all attempts at psychiatric probing. When she returned home, she continued her education via a correspondence course. She became more withdrawn than before she had met Martha.
When she was eighteen, Lillian left home, got a job with an accounting firm and took a small furnished apartment of her own. During the two years since her affair with Martha, Lillian's acne problem cleared up almost completely. She was now an extremely attractive girl. A number of men were attracted to her, but when they tried to get close to her she was very aloof. She led no social life, whatsoever. After work, her evenings were spent watching TV, going to the movies or reading.
Then, one Saturday afternoon, after shopping, Lillian was waiting at a bus stop. Another woman was there. She was smartly dressed, with a pretty, though rather sharp-featured face. She kept looking at Lillian and finally gave her a warm friendly smile. Lillian found herself responding. In a few moments they were chatting as though they had been friends for years. Finally, the other woman said: "Why don't we go somewhere and have a drink? I know a place I think you'll like."
"Yes," Lillian said. "That sounds like a splendid idea."
They walked off together to a nearby side street and the other woman led Lillian into a small, dimly lit bar. It was quite crowded for even a Saturday afternoon. All the patrons were women. As soon as Lillian entered, several of them looked at her in a way that sent a strange tingle up and down her spine. Although she had never been in such a place before, Lillian knew immediately that it was a woman's gay bar.
She gave a long, slow sigh and relaxed. She felt warm and wanted again for the first time in a long while. She turned to her newly found companion, and gave her an affectionate smile as the woman ordered drinks for them both.
There will be opinions that Lillian would have fallen prey to some clever lesbian eventually, because of her basic personality problems, even if she had never met Martha. That is possible. The fact remains, though, that at least it would not have happened with Martha, at that particular time, if her parents had been more worldly wise, more discerning. If they hadn't practically thrown the two together and inevitably invited the intimate relationship. A little more natural parental suspicion would have been far more healthy and might have brought the impending tragic situation to light before it had gone too far.
Like a great many parents of teen-aged girls, Lillian's meant well, but took the easiest way out. It certainly did not turn out to be the easiest way for Lillian. And psychiatrist or psychologist knows that the lesbian way of life is almost inevitably doomed to eventual unhappiness.
CHAPTER SIX
THE CABANA 'BOYS'
Places for the wealthy, on the Riviera, in Brazil and other parts of South and Central America-and even some posh beach clubs in America, have [sentence not finished in hardcopy pocketbook]
Most of the expensive beach resorts, watering private cabanas. They are roomy, tent-like structures for the use of bathers. They can be used for changing bathing suits, taking a quiet snooze, having a few drinks with friends, and even lovemaking.
These same resorts also employ attractive young men to serve as "cabana boys," sometimes known as beach boys. They are actually glorified waiters, bringing drinks and food, to the various cabanas, or dry towels, a change of bathing suit, whatever the patron requires. In some places they also afford more intimate services.
The wives of affluent business men often go to the beach for the entire summer. The husbands join them there on the weekends. Of course this leaves five days during the week when the wives are on their own. If the wife is reasonably young, attractive, bored and possible suspicious that while she is away, her husband is cutting up with his young secretary or some other luscious doll, she is likely to find herself casting around for some young, virile, attractive man to pass the time away. Most cabana boys possess all these attributes.
In today's world, the women frequently make the first move. The hunted, under modern conditions, are now more often the hunter. This, according to a recent issue of Newsweek is the way things are, today. The magazine tells us that the double standard went out with the bustle. It quotes Los Angeles psychiatrist Ralph R. Green-son, as saying: " ... (she) feels entitled to equal orgasms along with her other equal rights." It also quotes a popular American marriage manual as saying: "It is necessary that she share the topmost heights with him."
Newsweek also tells us that especially in the upper middle class, many marriages have a startling reversal of the male-female roles. The woman has become more sexually interested, her business man or professional husband, less so. It states that today more and more husbands are complaining that their wives are too sexually demanding. The wives complain that hubby works too hard all day, play golf all weekend and is then too tired when it comes to sex.
A Temple University sociologist in making a survey of 196 women in a certain Philadelphia area, found that one out of every four complained that she engaged in intercourse "too infrequently."
Apparently .according to interviews with a number of cabana boys, many of these sexually underprivileged women find their way to beach resorts in the summer. As one man reported: "You practically have to beat off these beautiful rich broads with a stick!"
Many of these young men heavily supplement their pay and tips with generous cash gifts from satisfied women patrons. In many instances, the "boys" are practically male prostitutes who not too subtly negotiate the amount of their "present" in advance. At one Eastern seaboard beach resort, when word leaked out about what was going on in the cabanas, an enterprising vice squad officer, with the aid of a pretty, shapely young policewoman, made a number of arrests among the beach boys serving the place, for "soliciting."
The cabana boys are usually about twenty-five years old, and deeply and darkly tanned. Their uniform usually consists of a pair of unusually brief and revealingly tight swim trunks. As one boy commented, when kidded about the brevity of his attire: "It pays to advertise."
What most of the spoiled young society matrons who turn to cabana boys for a summer of sexual "kicks" don't know, is that there are hidden dangers. A lot of the "boys" have younger girls in town, whom they service for free. Sometimes they pick up a venereal disease from their "girl friend" and then spread it around among their women "patrons" at the club. Also, some of these men are not above engaging in a little blackmail during the winter months. Many a wife has learned in the winter that her summer vacation was much more expensive than she had bargained for.
Sometimes, too, cabana boys more than earn their stud fee. Wealthy women, just as wealthy men, often have strange and bizarre sexual desires. Sometimes they are asked to give or receive "spankings" with ping pong paddles or rolled-up magazines. Others are expected to perform cunnilingus, anal-entry. Some of their patrons might be unattractively fat or old.
One woman at a Gulf Coast resort was known to the boys as "The turkey." Asked why this was, the reply came: "Because she's a gobbler." It seemed that this particular woman didn't want to create any suspicion among the occupants of neighboring cabanas by having a cabana boy stay too long in her tent. To avoid this, she would have the boy stand at the entrance, with the flap half closed, his body blocking the view of what was going on from any passer-by, as though he was just standing there, talking. Actually she would be on her knees before the young man, opening the front of his swim trunks and then servicing him orally.
The cabana boys found this amusing since the women occupants of the neighboring cabanas couldn't have cared less, as they were availing themselves of the beach boys' virile services in other ways.
That there can sometimes be dire results stemming from the dalliance of a cabana boy and a wealthy young matron, is proven by the following incident which occurred at a swank New England beach resort.
CASE HISTORY
THE STALLION AND THE PRINCESS
The woman, Mrs. Marilyn V., was thirty-four years old but had the face and figure of a woman at least ten years younger. She was statuesquely built, in the manner of Anita Ekberg. She had long, auburn hair, languorous looking green eyes and a pouting, sensuous mouth. With every move she made, she practically oozed sex appeal.
Because of her haughty carriage and attitude, because she didn't mix socially with the other women and ignored the cabana boys completely, she was given the nickname, "The Princess" the first week she was there.
One of the cabana boys, Juan, was a tall, solidly built young man of twenty-two. He had an ugly face but a superbly muscled body and certain unusual physical attributes which earned him the nickname of "Stallion." He and several of the other beach boys had made a play for Marilyn right after she first arrived, but backed off when they saw her cool reaction. So Juan was quite surprised, the second week of Marilyn's stay, when he brought a Tom Collins to her cabana, and as she was about to leave, she said:
"What's the hurry, Juan? I'd like to talk with you a moment."
He turned, his eyebrows arching. "Yes, Mrs. V.?" He saw her heavy-lidded green eyes lingering on the large bunching of his genitals in the brief sling of the skimpy cotton bikini trunks he was wearing. Her gaze then rose to meet his.
"You are the one they call The Stallion?"
His white teeth flashed in a grin. He shrugged his big shoulders. "It is just a joke."
Her eyes dropped again. "I wouldn't say so. It's probably a very apt nickname. I understand you're quite in demand among the women here?"
Again he shrugged noncommittally.
"Do you find me interesting, Juan?"
She was sprawled on a beach lounge chair, with one knee drawn up. Because of the delicate quality of her milky white redhead's skin, Marilyn didn't expose herself to the sun as the other women did. Consequently, to Juan, who was used to the darkly tanned bodies of the other women, the whiteness of Marilyn's long, delightfully curved legs, arms, shoulders and belly, and the tops of her breasts that swelled half out of her bikini halter, made her seem even more desirable
"Very interesting," he replied, letting his brown eyes rove over all of her lush body, coming to rest, finally, on the small swelling of her mount, pressing out the triangular bottom half of the bikini.
Marilyn slightly opened her thighs, as though to give him a better view. She said, softly: "You understand, I'm not like the others. I wouldn't even think of paying a man to make love with me."
"I can see why you wouldn't have to," he said.
"Juan, can you be trusted to absolutely keep your mouth shut? It's important. My husband is jealous and has a savage temper. I would not want to take the slightest risk of his finding out anything!"
He nodded. "I know how to be discreet, when it's necessary."
"Very well. Can you come to my hotel room, tonight between eight and nine? Room three-o-seven."
He flashed another grin. "I'd be delighted."
"There's only one thing."
"What's that?"
"Everything must be done my way. You must agree that you'll do only what I tell you to. You won't be sorry, though, I assure you," she said, eyes glowing.
"It's a deal."
"You'd better go now. I'll see you, tonight, Juan."
He nodded and left the cabana.
That night, a little before eight-thirty, Juan was admitted to Marilyn's hotel suite. She was barefoot and wearing a green terry cloth robe.
"Did anyone see you come in here?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No."
"Good," she said. "First, let me tell you this. I'm very excited, tonight! I'm practically on fire. I'm a very passionate woman and it's been nearly two weeks since I had my husband. Also, I've never had sex with another man. I heard some of the other women discussion you, Juan and my curiosity has been aroused. Perhaps I've been missing something. We shall see!"
She moved close to him. "Now, let me undress you." She took his T shirt and raised it, easing it up and over his head, and then off. She ran the tips of her fingers over his bulky shoulders, the muscles of his chest, his biceps. She sucked in a ragged breath. "You do have a beautiful body," she told him. "So hard and firm. My husband is inclined to be soft; he's big, bigger than you are, but kind of flabby."
Then Marilyn, unbuttoned the top of the walking shorts Juan wearing, undid the zipper. She said: "Kick off your sandals." As he did so, she pushed down the shorts. They tumbled about his ankles and he kicked them off, standing there naked, now, except for a pair of cotton briefs. They were stretched taut as a tent by a ridge pole. Marilyn gasped at the extent to which the briefs were stretched. She gave a shudder and kneeled before him, running both hands up and down the hard, ropy muscles of his thighs. Then she stood and backed away a few steps. She watched a sudden convulsive movement inside the straining briefs, as she slowly unfastened the belt of her robe and then just as slowly, shrugged it from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Her nakedness was all glistening, marble white, except for the Titian colored triangle of her apex, and the pale orange nubbins of her breasts which protruded like tiny fingertips.
"Oh, baby!" Juan said, with breathless awe. "You're even more gorgeous than I anticipated."
She hunched her shoulders and raised her hands to the firm, high set white globes of her breasts, lifting them, gently squeezing, brushing the spiking tips with her thumb. She shuddered and said in a husky voice: "They ache so when I'm all excited. They need to be squeezed and kissed."
"Then let me do it," he pleaded.
"Not yet. You're not to touch me until I tell you. Right now, take those briefs off."
She watched him hook his thumbs into the waist of the shorts, push them down over his hips and off. His fiercely aroused manhood sprung free and Marilyn's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Oh, my God!" she moaned. "That's really awesome. You make my husband look like a boy!"
"Why don't we stop wasting time?" he begged. "You're driving me crazy!"
She smiled. "That's the idea. Tell me, can you go more than once?"
"I never have to. With me, once is enough for most women!"
"I'm not most women. I heard that you were good for at least thirty or forty minutes. That's a challenge to me. I don't think you'll make it with me."
"Let's try," he said.
"First we've got to take a shower," she told him. "Love should only be made with freshly washed bodies. Come on."
She beckoned to him and turned toward the door to the bathroom. He followed, his virility stretching and swaying before him as his eyes watched the rolling and clenching of her high, tightly rounded buttocks. Inside the bathroom, she said: "Let's shower together."
As they entered the showed stall together, her hand brushed against his long, taut stretch and Juan let out a small moan. Inside the stall, Marylyn adjusted the water to a luke warm shower, picked up a cake of soap and handed it to Juan. "Wash me," she said.
He worked up a lather in his hands and began to spread it over her neck and shoulders first, and then laved her bulging, hard, taut-nippled breasts. As his hands then proceeded to soap all of her body-her flat tummy, her hips, her long, glistening thighs, her back and the round jut of her derriere, Marilyn emitted small groans of delight, and stared fascinated at the extreme agitation of his enormous distention as he caressed her.
Then, as he gently soaped her most sensitive area, Marilyn suddenly closed her thighs tightly, imprisoning his had. She let out a tortured wail as a sudden convulsive climax shook her for several moments. She stood, writhing, head thrown back, eyes closed, her wet, red mouth gaped open, little keening sounds coming from deep in her throat.
When it was over, she moved his hand from her. Still gasping for breath, she told him: "Oh, that was wonderful, a beautiful beginning ... Now, it's my turn to bathe you."
She took the soap and began laving his body. When her hands lightly, teasingly soaped his genitals, he quivered and shook in a torture of frustration. Then it was over, and they both showered clean of soapsuds and left the stall. Outside, when Juan reached for a towel, Marilyn took hold of his arm. "No," she said. "It's better when we're both wet."
"But we'll get the bed wet," he protested. "And the rugs!"
"The hell with them," she told him. She took his hand and led him into the bedroom. She stopped beside the bed and turned to him, and held out her arms. "Kiss me," she ordered. They moved together and embraced and Juan cupped her buttocks and held her to him, his rigidity like hot iron against her soft tummy, the erect nipples of her breasts raking his chest. They kissed and tongued wildly. Marilyn was the first to break away. She leaned backward from the waist up, her head back, eyes closed.
"Juan!" she told him. "My breasts! My breasts!"
He bent his head and his tongue and lips ran wild over the thrusting white cones of flesh and the turgid orange tips begging for his attention. Marilyn's breath gusted furiously and she made little whining sounds. After awhile, she murmured : "Let me go for a moment."
He eased away, panting like a bull in heat, and watched her as she sat on the edge of the bed and then fell back upon it, her buttocks still on the edge. She raised her knees high and spread her thighs, revealing her moist readiness. "Now, now, Juan," she gasped. "Come to me!"
He moved between her up thrown, outspread legs and she reached down and seized him firmly, squeezing and tugging for a moment before she guided him to the portals. With a guttural cry, he surged forward and Marilyn cried out: "Oh, Heaven!" Her legs wrapped around his waist and she ordered: "Stay! Just like that! Don't move, even!"
He felt sudden convulsive nippings and pressures of the warm, slick little prison that incarcerated him, and he responded with additional swelling and rigidity and called out: "Oh, damn you, I can't stand if! You've tortured me too long!"
Then he bent over her and applied his lips and tongue to her breasts again as he shuddered and moaned and gasped. Suddenly Marilyn's outcries matched his as they completed simultaneously, with no movement between them except the convulsive tightening and twitching of Marilyn's innermost depths. In a few moments he collapsed upon her in the slowly diminishing aftermath of their explosive excitement.
When he was again able to talk, Juan said: "Oh, you devil, you! So fast! It's never happened with me, so fast. I'm sorry, baby. I just could not help myself. It was-it was too much!"
She gave a contented little chuckle. "That was the way I wanted it. First to prove to you that even a stud is not invulnerable; secondly, because when you are ready again, it will be really wild and you'll now be able to stay with me all the way."
Fifteen minutes later, her hand teased him to readiness once more. Then she cleansed him with a wet wash cloth and anointed him with her lips and tongue, pausing every once in awhile to admire the state of his enormity which she had so artfully produced. Once she murmured: "My, you truly are a stallion, Juan. I'm afraid you're going to spoil me for any other man."
A few moments after that, she moved above him and bending forward, brushed his lips teasingly with the hot, hard tips of her beautiful swinging breasts before she finally let him catch one of the rubbery morsels. At the same time, then, she hunched forward and down and let out a long, low groan as she tightly captured him for the second time.
It was nearly an hour of mild rolling and heaving about the bed and on the floor, with Marilyn explosively bursting the binds of sexual tension six times, before Juan finally joined her again.
For the rest of the summer, Marilyn couldn't seem to get enough of Juan's virility. Back at her own home in the city, she now found her husband's love making bland my comparison, although she feigned her previous excitement so as not to arouse his suspicions. Within a week, though, Marilyn knew that she had to have Juan again. She brought him to the city, set him up in an apartment nearby and visited him regularly.
After a month or so, as Marilyn was leaving Juan's apartment one night, she found her husband outside the door. He was livid with rage. He roughly shoved her back into the apartment and followed, slamming the door shut. In his hand he held an automobile tire iron. He shouted to Marilyn that she hadn't fooled him by pretending that she was still enjoying sex with him; he knew that she was faking and must be getting her goodies someplace else. He then felled his wife with one blow of the tire iron, that caved in her cheekbone. Next he went after Juan, broke his collarbone with one blow of the tire iron and then fractured his skull. Both were hospitalized for weeks.
The husband was arrested but later got off on a mistrial charge....
There is probably not much that can be done about the amateur or professional aspects of male prostitution that exist at a great many beach resorts, from a law enforcement standpoint, since it usually occurs in such an oblique manner. But perhaps some of the action could be cut down, at least some of the illegal and results such as blackmail could be curtailed, by more careful supervision and investigation by local authorities of the men being hired as cabana and beach boys.
It is hoped that this brief expose of what can and does sometimes happen at many popular beach resorts mostly patronized by bored and wealthy young matrons will at least open the eyes and alert said authorities to the possibilities of the trouble that can result.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE BABY SITTER
Although only on a part time, occasional basis, the baby sitter, teen-aged or mature, is definitely a domestic servant; she is a temporary nursemaid, with the same responsibilities. She is expected to keep the child or children out of mischief, out of harm's way; amuse them, see that they get to bed on time. In the case of smaller children, she is expected to change their diapers, when necessary.
Of all the different types of domestic services, baby sitting, except for registered agencies, is the most poorly supervised by authorities. Literally anyone can advertise their services in newspaper, or on shopping center bulletin boards. These people could be carriers of venereal or other diseases, ex-convicts, perverts, narcotic addicts, thieves or even murderers. How can you know?
It is amazing how many parents will entrust the care of their children, even infants, to a total stranger who has made a good first impression on them, and was able to give (without giving any proof) satisfactory answers as to their back ground and experience. Many parents just trust their own judgment. This has frequently to led to tragedy. Any law enforcement officer will tell you that it is impossible to make safe judgments of a person's character on first impressions, on the basis of a few simple questions that can be readily answered by any glib person in an untruthful way.
In one instance, a researcher learned that the parents of a nine-year-old boy had actually hired a transvestite to baby-sit with their son. (A transvestite is a man who likes to dress and act like a woman, even wearing a wig and makeup.) Fortunately, they had a good, open relationship with the boy, and when they returned home from the movies and found the baby-sitter gone, the boy readily told them what had happened. He said that when he went to bed, the "woman" came in and tried to play with his "thing" and that then "she" lifted her skirt, pulled down "her" panties and showed him that "she" had one, too! The boy then grew frightened, threatened to tell his parents and the "woman" became frightened and left.
The parents were amazed. They said he "woman" had appeared to be very attractive, intelligent and extremely feminine. "She" had briefly discussed feminine hairdos and dress styles with the mother. They reported the incident to the police and gave them the address the "woman" had given them, in case they wanted to employ her again in the future. Actually, the mother had met the "woman" only that afternoon in a super market; she seemed attracted to their son and mentioned that she was available for babysitting. Their previous sitter had recently moved to another neighborhood, so the mother, taken by the "woman's" pleasant appearance and personality had hired "her" for that evening.
Of course when the police went to the address given them, it turned out to be a false one.
Usually transvestites are not known to be violent or dangerous, although in most cities, appearing publicly in clothes of the opposite sex, is illegal. Nevertheless, this man could have been angered by the boy's rejection of his advances, then frightened by the lad's threat to tell his parents. The boy could have been killed. If he hadn't rejected the advances, he most certainly would have been morally corrupted.
Many parents believe that hiring a mature or even elderly woman as a baby sitter, automatically solves all problems. Especially if the woman has brought up a family of her own. It is thought that she will be more responsible than a teenager; she is much more experienced in handling children. This is usually the case. But no matter what the age of the woman, or her alleged background, it is always necessary to thoroughly check her out before a parent leaves their most precious possession, their child, in her hands.
In one case, parents eventually caught their forty-two year old baby sitter fellating their three-year old son, while her "boy friend," a man of fifty, was having intercourse with her from the rear.
In another instance, parents noticed that their two-year old little girl, not yet able to talk, was suffering burns every time they left her in the care of their motherly, white-haired baby sitter, a lady of sixty-three. Eventually they learned that the woman was deliberately burning the child with cigarette butts as a form of "punishment."
Teen-agers who make spending money by baby sitting, are for the most part morally sound, responsible youngsters who do a good job. They are daughters of friends or neighbors, well known to the parents hiring them. Because of the close association, the parents know pretty well whether or not the girl can be trusted.
Here again, though, it is surprising how many parents will hire a girl who advertises in the newspaper or on a super market bulletin board, without really knowing anything about the girl. These parents are taking the risk of giving somebody the freedom of their home, who might steal valuable items, might possibly sexually molest their children, might use the home after the children have been put to bed, for sexual indulgence with boy friends. All of these things have happened at one time or another with teen-aged girl baby sitters.
Probably the best bet for parents, especially those new in a town or a neighborhood, is to hire a sitter from a registered agency, first checking the agency out with the Better Business Bureau. These agencies usually pretty thoroughly screen their employees in an intelligent manner; this is to their advantage, too, as the success of their business depends on their reputation. Unfortunately, a lot of parents avoid using these agencies because their rates are usually a lot higher than those of the teen-ager who advertises on a bulletin board. Such parents should ask themselves the question-what price the safety of our children?
It is the opinion of the author, too, that parents or guardians who allow their teen-aged girls to place advertisements in the newspapers or on bulletin boards, are also asking for possible trouble. The telephone number and often the address are included. This is a perfect invitation to the telephone pervert, the man who likes to make obscene phone calls to young girls. The police of a Northwest city finally caught a fifty-year-old man who had been taking the telephone numbers of girls advertising themselves as baby sitters. The man would then call the girls and before they hardly knew what was going on, swiftly described in the most obscene terms what he would like to do to them and what he was doing to himself as he talked about it. He had done this to nearly fifty young girls before he was finally apprehended.
Another danger to such ads is that the girl doesn't know anything about the people who thus hire her. Often, late at night, the man has to drive her home. If he makes obscene advances, she's in a spot. She has to fight him off. Often, she cannot tell her own parents, wha happened, for fear that they will no longer allow her to make money in this way.
It is the opinion of researchers on this subject that these should be some kind of supervision of those who offer their services as baby sitters. If they could be registered and then carefully checked out through some kind of clearing house run by the city, it would be helpful in weeding out undesirables. The cost of this could paid by some kind of small fee licensing process.
Until there is such a clearing house, parents should be advised to check out any prospective baby sitter not personally known to them over a period of time, with the local police department and/or the Juvenile authorities. This would be at least some help. It would prevent the hiring of a girl who has a juvenile record, an older woman who has a record of arrests for drunkenness, shop lifting or perhaps even moral offences.
The following item dramatically points up the fact that parents cannot be too careful about checking up on a prospective baby sitter.
CASE HISTORY MARLENE Y.
At sixteen, Marlene was a slightly prettier than average girl, with a compact but curvaceous figure, a pleasant, outgoing personality, a way of knowing exactly what to say to grownups in order to give a good impression of herself. She was also unusually intelligent, and clean and neat. Marlene dressed well, and slightly conservatively. All of these factors made her seem to be the ideal girl to hire as a baby sitter.
What wasn't known to most parents who hired her was that Marlene was a nymphomaniac, had a record of Juvenile arrests since she was thirteen-years old. Most of them had a morals connotation. One time she was picked up in a Lovers Lane, with three boys all older than she was. She was in violation of the curfew law and there was alcoholic beverages in the car. It was suspected by the arresting Juvenile officers, though it couldn't be proved, that she had previously been sexually active with one, if not all three of the boys. Another time she was caught in a motel room with an older man, she had allowed to pick her up downtown. By that time, both of them were fully dressed, and both stoutly maintained that she was just "visiting" with him.
Yet another time she was caught engaged in sexual activity with two older boys in the back of a poorly lit, mostly unoccupied movie house. The theater manager swore that he had actually caught them in sex play but was unable to prove this against the words of the three involved who said it wasn't true.
Another time she was picked up in an apartment where a party was going on, involving older men and several other girls her own age. Marijuana was found. The officers saw evidence of prior sexual activity but again couldn't prove it.
Marlene's father had left her mother when Marlene was only seven years old. Her mother worked as a cocktail waitress, drank heavily when not working and was sexually promiscuous. Marlene said that she first learned about sexual intercourse when she was ten-years old, when she saw her mother and a male friend engaging in this activity. Marlene began to masturbate at age eleven, when she first began to develop, prematurely.
At twelve, she was seduced by a thirty-five year old male friend of her mother's, while her mother was passed-out drunk. For nearly a year she had secret sexual relations with this man regularly, during which time she was taught to accept cunnilingus and also practice fellatio.
When she was fourteen, Marlene began to earn money by baby sitting. Actually, she was not so much interested in the money (her mother who made a good living, was over-generous in giving her spending money) as she was in the fact that the job often gave her an opportunity to have sexual relations with her boy friends in privacy. Sometimes she would have three or four boys over on the same night, after she was sure the children in her charge were asleep.
One time, an eight-year old girl with whom Marlene was baby sitting, awakened and came out into the living room to see Marlene naked on the couch with an eighteen-year-old youth. Their action and the wild, animal-like noises they were making frightened the child, who was sure the boy was "hurting" Marlene. The little girl went into hysterics and was still not over them when the parents returned. Marlene firmly denied that she had had any boy in the house and insisted that the little girl had awakened, screaming, from a bad nightmare. The parents couldn't prove otherwise, but they never hired Marlene again. This was no problem, as Marlene's mother moved frequently from one neighborhood to another.
In another instance, a seven-year-old boy told his parents that as soon as they left, Marlene put him to bed and then, sitting on the edge of the bed in the dark, reached under the covers and toyed with his penis. After awhile, he said, she would then take it into her mouth. Later, he asserted, he crept out to the living room and saw Marlene and some young male friend, doing "nasty things." The parents didn't press charges against the girl, who naturally denied all guilt and said the child was just getting even with her because she'd had to punish him for "getting into mischief." We wonder what effect these experiences had on the boy in later life.
At sixteen, Marlene began to work for Mr. and Mrs. Harvey P., baby sitting with their three-year-old twins. The P.'s had just moved to that city. It was necessary for both of them to attend a social-business function on a Friday night. They received several recommendations for baby sitters, from neighbors but all had been previously booked for other jobs. At the super market that evening, Mrs. P. saw Marlene's advertisement posted on a bulletin board. She called her to come over for an interview. Both parents were impressed with Marlene's appearance, her excellent manners and the way in which the young twins seemed to instantly take to her. They hired her.
When they arrived back home that night, everything was in order and the twins were sleeping soundly. The next day the children were ecstatic about Marlene, wanted her to stay with them some more. The P.'s began to use Marlene two or three time a week, sometimes.
They owned a large home in an upper middle class neighborhood, on a secluded street. Unknown to them, Marlene while staying with their children, was entertaining two or three boys or men, each time. She was always careful to clean out the ashtrays, empty the trash and remove all other signs that might indicate she had company.
One evening, after finishing with one boy friend and dismissing him, preparatory to getting ready for the next one, Marlene took a shower in the P's bathroom, as was her usual custom. She left the door opened so that she could hear the children if they suddenly awakened. After the shower, she was drying herself off, when she suddenly became aware of the sound of heavy breathing outside the bathroom door. She looked around and saw Mr. P., a heavy set, pleasant looking man of forty, staring at her. His face was flushed and his eyes were greedily taking in the sights exposed to him. Hungrily he eyed Marlene's round, rosy young breasts-sharply jutting-with their dark little nipples pouting, the gentle mound of her tummy and the smooth, firm curves of her naked thighs. Marlene felt a glow of excitement flooding through her, knowing by the man's expression and the protuberant state of his trousers, what the sight of her nude young body was doing to him.
Then she squealed: "Oh, Mr. P., you frightened me!"
He almost jumped at the sound of her voice and quickly averted his gaze as Marlene now wrapped a towel about her body.
"I-I'm sorry," he told her. "I had to return home to pick up some business papers. I didn't-well-expect to find you in the shower. And I-I certainly didn't mean to take advantage of your-your...." His voice trailed off as he was unable to finish.
Then she quickly explained to him that she'd become overheated, playing and roughhousing with the twins before putting them to bed and had decided to take a cold shower to cool off.
"Well, I guess it was embarrassing to both of us," he said. "So, let's just forget it, both of us, eh?"
Marlene gave him a warm smile. "Oh, I won't say anything to Mrs. P. about you seeing me like that so don't worry."
He gave her a startled look and then turned and went out into the other room and then back out of the house.
A week later, Mrs. P. was suddenly stricken by an appendicitis attack and rushed to the hospital. Mr. P. called Marlene and asked her if she could come over right away and take care of the kids, and if it would be possible for her to stay over for a few days to help him out in general. She readily agreed. Mr. P. was at the hospital most of that first night and took the next day off from work.
Being alone in a house with a man, was an automatic challenge to Marlene. Especially so, with Mr. P. Although in times past, when he had driven her home at nights, she had made subtle hints that she wouldn't object too strenuously, if he made a pass, he never did. She didn't know whether he was just dumb or "square" as she thought of it; didn't want to do anything "wrong." This rather piqued her interest, though. He was the only man who hadn't made a pass at her on the way home, either successful or unsuccessful, depending on her mood at the moment ,and whether or not the man attracted her or made an offer to give her extra money.
Marlene was sure, after his reaction while seeding her nude the other night, that she did interest him. Now, while his wife was away, she took to wearing extra tight skirts and capris; sometimes she would neglect to put on a bra under her cotton T-shirt. Before going to bed at night, she paraded around before him in thin silk pajamas that more than hinted at the nubile attraction of her compact little body. She saw that all this was not without effect.
The third night she stayed over at the P.'s house, Marlene showered carefully and slightly perfumed her body. She then donned a pair of pajamas and walked slowly past Mr. P.'s room. She saw that he was already in bed, reading the newspaper and listening to the radio. Marlene paused in the doorway, her hair still wet and tousled after washing it.
"Oh," she said, softly. "I see you have the newspaper. I was going to do the crossword puzzle, but it's all right."
He smiled at her, his eyes focused on the points of her breasts punching out he silk of the pajamas. "It's okay," he said. "I'm through with the paper. You can have it." He held it out toward her.
She walked across the room and took the paper from him, then threw a coquettish smile over her shoulder as she turned to leave. "I shouldn't really bother. I'm not very good at crossword puzzles but I'm bored, have nothing better to do."
A few moments later, she was back at the door of his room, asking him how to spell a certain word. This happened twice more before Mr. P. suddenly said: "Now, you've got me interested in the damned thing. Maybe I'll come out and work on it with you."
"Oh," Marlene said. "Would you? That'd be groovy."
She had the paper spread on the dinette table. Now she leaned over it and picked up the pencil. "You can look over my shoulder and maybe together we can get the darned thing done."
She felt Mr. P. move up behind her. After they filled in a few words on the puzzle, she was aware that he was very close behind her, brushing lightly against her. Marlene leaned forward a little more, jutting out her round, firm behind. Suddenly she made contact with him and felt an immediate response. She didn't withdraw. Instead, she pushed back a little harder. She heard Mr. P.'s breathing becoming labored. She felt the erectness of him placed firmly between her buttocks. The feverish heat of him was evident even through the cloth of both their pajamas. She felt him push against her and braced herself to receive the firm pressure. He began to gently hunch back and forth against her.
After a few moments, she sighed, set the pencil down and straightened up from the waist, being careful not to disturb what was going on behind her. She said: "Oh, I'm tired of doing this old puzzle, anyhow."
"Oh, no!" Mr. P. gasped. "Please don't go away. You feel so good to me, I can't stand it. I'm sorry but I can't help myself, you get me so excited, Marlene."
She arched her back, thrusting her rump more firmly against his fiercely aroused manhood. "Do I, Carl?" she hissed passionately, using his given name for the first time. "That's all right, you get me all hot and bothered, too!"
She reached down and took his hands. She pushed them up under the front of the pajamas onto the warm, hard hillocks of her breasts. She felt the stiffened tips boring into his palms as he gently rotated them, his fingers squeezing the smooth, plump flesh.
"Oh, Marlene!" he gasped. "Oh. you darling!" His lips moved to the side of her throat, kissed her there, his tongue working against the warm, sensitive flesh as he ground deeply against her. Both of them were now shivering and breathing hard. Then, in a few moments, Marlene moved away and turned, facing him. Swiftly she ripped open the buttons of her pajama tops, and opened it wide to have her breasts, round and saucy, stiff-tipped as they rose and fell with the rapidity of her breathing.
"Kiss them, lover," she begged.
Eagerly Carl P. lowered his face and ran his tongue over the taut peaks and then took turns tugging at them with his lips. Marlene moaned her pleasure and reached down. She inserted her hand into the opening in his pajama bottoms. She seized the thick, rampant tilt of him, squeezing, working her fist back and forth and she sucked in an excited breath.
"Oh, Carl, what a man you are! I never knew it could be so huge!"
As he continued to mouth and suckle her excited breasts, he reached around and slid his hands down inside the waistband of her pajamas, slid them up and over and down the steep rise of her rounded buttocks. He cupped and squeezed them.
Suddenly, Marlene said: "Let's take our pajamas off."
They released each other and swiftly stripped. Then Marlene hunched her haunches up onto the edge of the dinette table. She opened her thighs, exposing the moist dark dell of her femininity. Then she whispered, starting at the swaying, jumping protrusion stretched toward her: "Oh, I want you, Carl but I've never done it, before. I-I'm afraid you'll be too much for me!"
"Oh, no," he groaned, running his hands up and down the glistening smooth insides of her soft, fleshed thighs. "I'll be very gentle. I swear. Please! I've got to, Marlene."
"I-I don't know. Maybe-maybe-well, a girl friend once told me that that the first time a man did it to her, he prepared her first, so that it wouldn't hurt. Maybe if you ... She let the words trail off.
"Prepare you?" he said. "How?"
Now his whole hand was cupping her, his finger working teasingly between warm, welcoming folds.
She turned her head away. "I-I don't know how to explain it, except he-well-he sort of kissed her-you know-there-and-and that got her so excited that when he did the other, it-well-it didn't hurt at all. If you could...." With a moan, he went to his knees before her. He began to kiss the insides of her thighs, his lips and tickling tongue moving higher and higher. In a few moments his face was buried deeply and Marlene let out a shrill cry of pleasure. Her hands flew to his head, caressing it, guiding it. Audibly, now, she urged him on, giving directions :
"Oh! Oh, Carl! ... Oh, that's good but now a little to the left! ... Oh, yes! Oh! Oh! ... Now, just a little higher! Oh, yes, yes, lover, that's it, that's perfect! Oh, I can hardly stand it!"
Her thighs closed and then opened as she drew her knees up and she felt his tongue go wild. In a few moments she felt the ultimate spasm approaching and she screamed: "Now, Carl! Now, the other! Now, now!"
He eased away and straightened up, his face red and slack with lust as he looked at Marlene, now sprawled back across the table, her head rolling from side to side, her face twisted into a grimace of wanton need as whimpering, whining sounds of ecstasy broke from her throat. He moved between her upthrust and widespread knees and as she felt him club against her thigh, she reached down to guide him. She was still in the midst of wild throes when she brought him to the waiting vestibule and then felt him surge savagely forward. Her cries increased as she wantonly imprisoned his waist with her legs and braced herself for his hunching, ramming onslaught. As his movements became more swift and violent, he reached and cupped the tossing rounds of her hard-peaked breasts, massaging and kneading as he brought them both jerking to the heights of simultaneous completion. Then he fell forward upon her hot, straining body....
Afterward, Carl P. was filled with remorse and guilt. He told Marlene that he was ashamed of himself, taking advantage of a young girl like her. He was doubly ashamed, doing something like that while his wife was in the hospital; he'd never before been unfaithful to her.
"Oh, pooh!" Marlene told him, as she picked her pajamas up from the floor. "Don't worry about it. Listen, I wanted it as badly as you. It was good, wasn't it? It was to me. One of the best I've ever had. You're very good, you know."
"What?" he gaped at her. "You said you'd never done it before."
She giggled. "Well, I didn't want you to think I was a bad girl or something. So, once or twice with young kids, doesn't even count. Not compared to a man like you!"
He shook his head in disbelief as he watched her swivel hip, still naked, back along the hall toward the bathroom. Then Carl P. went into the guest room bath and showered, then got into his own bed. He lay there, wrestling with his conscience, wondering how he could tell Marlene that he couldn't have her around the house any more. He cursed himself for being such a fool, for his lack of will power, for giving in to the animal demands of his own body, for risking a pregnancy.
At the same time, he could hear the sound of the shower in the main bathroom, still going. He thought of Marlene's young, lithe, firm fleshed body, her passionate reactions to his lovemaking. He thought of her standing there under the shower, all slickly wet and soapy and clean.
In a few moment the shower cut off. Several minutes after that, he heard the bathroom door open and bare feet padding along the hall. Then he saw her standing in the doorway, still naked. He watched her move toward the bed, small, hard breasts jiggling. He heard her whisper: "Still awake, Carl. I want you again."
"No!" he said. "We can't!"
She reached the side of the bed, gave a small, wicked chuckle. "What do you mean-can't?"
He felt her hand slip under the cover, searching, then finding as she let out a gasp at his readiness. "Maybe you won't," she said. "But you certainly can, in your condition ... Here, maybe I can put my lover really in the mood."
With that, she flipped back the covers and bent over him. He felt a sudden moist, delicate, teasing caress that slowly, gradually covered more and more of his virility. He moaned and gave himself up to the voluptuous sensations flooding his loins.
He had her twice more that night-once as she sprawled on her tummy, her hips raised, the round globes of her haunches thrusting back at him in perfect contrapuntal rhythm with his own surgings, the warm smoothness of her against him in that spoon position, bringing him even more rapidly to his greatest explosion....
The next morning, Marlene looked cheerful and refreshed, acted as thought nothing had happened. Carl P. found it difficult to even look at her. He swore to himself that it would never happen again. It did, of course. He was now as hooked on the young girl's lovely body and savage lust as though he was addicted to narcotics. He couldn't seem to get enough of her.
After his wife got out of the hospital, Marlene continued to babysit for them. When he went out for the evening with his wife, he sometimes managed an excuse to come back to the house. When that couldn't arranged, they would park in a dark and deserted place and he would have her in the car when he took her home.
It went on for two months. Meanwhile, of course, Marlene was satisfying her voracious sexual appetites with her younger boyfriends on the side. Then, Marlene found herself pregnant. She hadn't the slightest idea who was responsible. When she mentioned it to a couple of young men, they told her: "Man, that's tough but what do you want me to do about it? How do I know it's even mine? If it is, I'm broke, haven't even got a job. Say, girl, why don't you hook the old man you've been puttin' out for? You know the old guy who buys you all those nice presents, you told us about?"
Marlene thought about that. It was true that the younger men she'd been seeing, were all out of work and not inclined toward marriage, anyhow. She knew if she got rough with them, they'd just leave town. Carl P. was her only hope. She would nail him for abortion money.
But that didn't work, either. When she told Carl about her condition, told him that he was responsible and that she needed a thousand dollars so that she could go away and have an abortion, he almost went into shock. He told her it was going to be difficult to raise that kind of money without his wife knowing. Then Marlene told him she'd give him only a couple of days and that if he didn't have it by them, his wife would know, anyhow.
Three days later, Mr. P. had Marlene come to the house. Unknown to her there was a detective, and Mrs. P. in the other room. Mr. P. cunningly got Marlene to make her blackmail spiel again and then the detective and Mrs. P., stepped out.
It seemed that Mr. P. knew that he hadn't made Marlene pregnant. He'd had himself sterilized after their twins were born, because of the difficult birth. Nor had he been able to raise the thousand dollars. Sick and desperate he finally decided to confess the whole sordid story to his wife, throw himself upon her mercy. She was furious at first, completely disgusted and disillusioned with him. She was going to get a divorce. But then she gradually relented, told him that everybody was entitled to one mistake, and perhaps part of it was her own fault. She'd been letting herself get a little dowdy and too heavy, the past few years. She agreed to go along with him.
They hired a private detective to check up on Marlene's background and her recent activities.
When Marlene heard this, was told that she was under arrest for attempted blackmail, and was going to be turned over to the juvenile authorities, she flew into a livid, insane rage. She picked up a letter opener from a nearby desk and attacked Mrs. P., calling her the most obscene gutter names. She stabbed the older woman three times, before Mr. P. and the detective pulled her away.
Mrs. P. eventually recovered and as far as is known, Mr. P. never strayed away from home again. Marlene was forced to accept long and arduous psychiatric treatment, before she was finally released shortly after she was eighteen-years old.
The foregoing account was pieces together from her own story as told to case workers who were assigned to her during that period.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE MISTRESS AND THE MALE SERVANTS
Many men who go into domestic service are handsome physical specimens, intelligent and sometimes even well educated. Here again the motivating factors are similar to those involving women who enter his employment field. It offers the men a certain amount of security; pleasant, often plush surroundings in which to work, a chance to drive fine, expensive automobiles, and if they are frugal, because all their expenses are paid for, the opportunity to rapidly save a goodly amount of money.
Often they are given stock market tips, and a number have been known to become quite well off in their jobs over a period of years. And since these men are usually bachelors, it relieves the problem of loneliness; there are other servants always around; sometimes they are treated by the master or mistress almost as a member of the family.
Sometimes there is even a fringe benefit in the form of a pleasant dalliance with the mistress, some of her female guests or even the grown-up daughter of the family. There is, of course, some danger in this, to both parties concerned. The woman might be setting herself up for either direct or indirect blackmail, to avoid having her husband know that he has been cuckolded by a man servant. The man involved risks the possibility of being fired from a good job on some pretext because the madame has finally become bored with him, wants a replacement. Or sometimes irate husbands can become violent in their jealous anger if they find out what has been going on.
Where teenage children are in the family, great care is usually taken in hiring butlers, chauffeurs, gardeners and other male servants. At least it should be. Often, teenaged daughters from wealthy families spend most of the year in some private girl's school. During the summers when they're home, they are over-protected, allowed to go out only with boys of comparable status, and are often chaperoned.
Since much of the talk between girls in private schools is of a sexual nature, by the time summer comes around, they are often extremely vulnerable to any man who is an expert at sexual seduction. Frequently, the girls become the aggressor.
A handsome young chauffeur, when questioned no this subject, told a researcher the following story:
CASE HISTORY
CATHY
Well, it happened to me with one family. It was wild. I've never known anything like it. They had this daughter, Cathy, see. She was fifteen and a cute little trollop, man. Pretty little pixie face and a body that never quit. Whenever the folks were around, Cathy was very aloof and patronizing. I'm sure they figured she'd never even dream of having anything to do with a household servant.
But when Cathy was alone in the car with me, everything was different, right from the beginning. She was friendly and vivacious. As soon as we were away from the house, she'd climb over into the front seat of the Rolls with me. Sometimes she'd be wearing a dress and she'd make quite a production of it, making damned sure I got a good look at those long, luscious thighs of hers, right up to the crotch. One time, she was wearing kind of loose fitting panties and when she climbed over that seat-wow! There was everything-the cutest little nest I ever saw. I damned near wrecked the car ... What? Sure, she knew what I was seeing.
Still, I played it cool. Once before, I worked with a family with a seventeen-year old daughter and got the same treatment. She turned out to be nothing but a tease and when I made a play, she got sore as hell and slapped the crap out of me. A few days later, I was let go; I never did know why. So, I wasn't going to take any chances with this Cathy chick, until I was sure. It finally turned out I didn't have to.
After about a week, 'I'm taking her on a trip to visit a girl friend in a city about fifty miles away. Again she does the front seat climbing bit. Then she sides over close to me. She says: "Jack, did you know you really turn me on?" I grinned. I sad: Ah, you're too young to even know what it's all about.
She shrugged, said, "Maybe. Maybe I'd like to find out. Wouldn't you like to teach me?" I told her: "Oh, come off it, Cathy. You want to get me into trouble?"
She laughed, then. She says: "I know how we can have fun without either one of us getting into trouble!" Then, before I can answer, I feel her hand sliding over into my lap. Now she takes hold and starts playing and I react almost immediately. In second I'm in full bloom and she's squeezing and playing like crazy and I can hear her heavy breathing. Then she whispers: "Jack, turn off on the next lonely looking side road, huh?"
I tell her: "You're crazy, Cathy. You're still jailbait. You'd better cut that out before you make me do something stupid."
"Don't worry about it," she says. "I'm not going to let you get me pregnant. I won't even let you do it to me! I just want to have some fun and give you some relief at the same time. It won't be the first time. I did this all last summer with an eighteen-year old boy who was visiting us ... There's a country lane, up ahead. Turn off, Jack, and the we'll turn on!"
By now she had me out of my mind. I swung into the country lane. It led to a deserted picnic ground. I stopped the car. Then she said: "You got to promise not to do anything else. Okay?"...."Anything else but what?" I asked, curious. "Nothing but let me do this," she said. I look down and hear the sound of the zipper being yanked. She reaches inside and twists and pulls and lifts and there I am! "Oh, Jack!" she says, all excited. "That kid I told you about last summer, was nothing like this. Oh, Jack this is going to be the grooviest!"
By now, Cathy's really doing a hand job. Finally, I ask her, "What do you get out of it? Don't you do anything for yourself?" ... I notice how she's writhing and twisting on the seat, opening her thighs and closing them, so that now her skirt is hiked nearly all the way up her legs. She's doing a little moaning and whimpering. She says, then: "I already am. Without touching. It's a trick I learned when I was fourteen. Oh, it's really something!"
Next, I see her reach under her skirt with one hand and raise up and start to pull down her panties, as she says: "I don't want to get them all wet." This brings the skirt up over her lap and there's the whole thing, those beautiful, plump white thighs, rubbing and squeezing together, so tightly sometimes they almost completely hide her little dark triangle. I'd read in a book about strange sex practices by a psychiatrist, that some broads could do this but I'd never seen it before. It made me wild, plus what her hot little hand was doing to me.
Now, she pulls up her sweater and then pushes her bra up and off of her breasts. They weren't very big but they were perfectly shaped, and the little red points were sticking way out, practically waving at me. She feels each of them for a few moments, then she says, groaning and shuddering: "Come on, Jack, give me your mouth. They want your mouth. I-I'm almost ready to go!"
So I bend over take take those pretty things into my mouth and in a few moments, the whole thing becomes too much for me and I lose control and start to go. She's watching and this sets her off, too. All of a sudden she stiffens, jerks convulsively, lets out these wild yells and it goes on for thirty or forty second and then she slumps in the seat and its all over.
Now, wait a minute ... You haven't heard all of it. The next week, she brings home this girl she was visiting with. Another good looking little broad, a year older. Only whereas Cathy is cud die and cute, this big blonde, Yvonne, is like, forget it! Big, up here, like bombs, man. And hips and a hind end that are built for comfort, not for speed. Anyhow, the second day of this Yvonne's visit, is my day off. I'm up in my place over the garage, lounging around in T-shirts and shorts, reading and listening to the radio, when in pop's this Yvonne. No knocking, nothing, she just walks right in.
"Oh, hi, Jack," she says. "What's happening? Idiot Cathy is pooped and taking a nap and I didn't know what to do with myself so I thought I'd pay you a visit. You mind?"
I look at her. She's wearing a bikini bathing suit, only she might as well have left it off. Those big grapefruits are bulging out almost to the tips; the bottom of the bikini just about rovers her pubic area. She's got the smoothest, softest, fleshiest thighs I've ever seen. I say: "Are you kidding? Why should I mind?"
So she giggles at that and then comes over and sits down by the side of the bed. She starts running her hand along my leg and she says: "Cathy told me about you."
"She did?"
"Uh-huh. You sound like my kind of man."
Then she's staring at my shorts, and I'm having a full reaction to her caressing of my legs, and the way all that white smooth flesh practically falls out of the hammock of the bikini top as she bends over. And then she says: "You look like my kind of man, too!"
Then she stands up, reaches back and first thing I know the bikini top pops loose. She pulls it away from the front of her and lets it fall to the floor. Those beauties are for real, and I can't believe, big as they are, that there's no sag, they just stick straight out like torpedo warheads, the centers of them large as strawberries. Then I watch her shrug the bottom of the bikini down from her hips, drop them to her ankles and kick them off. Now she bends over and starts tugging down my shorts. She says: "I'm not like Cathy. I go for everything!"
She wasn't fooling. She knew ways that I didn't know. She was up at my place nearly four hours. It was just that one time. The next day, she went home. The day after that, Cathy gets me out in the car again. Now she starts her routine and all the time, she's asking me about Yvonne, what was she like, was she good, how many times and what positions, and what did she say all the time, and like that! This Cathy seemed to get even more kicks out of her own routine, talking about Yvonne and me. She was even wilder than before.
Would you believe it-the rest of that summer, Cathy has a different girl friend from her school visiting her every week? They all loved it and after each one was gone, I had to let Cathy her fun, while I told her all the spicy details.
I'm telling you, many, by the end of that summer I'd lost nearly fifteen pounds. Was I ever glad to see that kid go back to school! The first weekend, though, she came home for a visit but not for what I thought. First chance we get to be alone, she tells me: "Jack, you're in big trouble. You'd better leave. Emily just told me she's pregnant, and you're it I" Emily was the next to last girl friend she had visit her. Well, man, like I didn't wait to find out whether it was true or not. That night I packed and took off, went clear across the country, changed my name and got in a different kind of work. I just now went back to chauffeuring, but I don't take no jobs where there are teen-aged girls in the family. I had it with that! I could have been hung on a couple of different raps. Now, if the Madame's good look-ink broad and wants of have a little fun, that's different....
In this particular case, the young girl was actually the seductress. It is doubtful that any healthy, virile, single man could have resisted her advances-or those of her friends. In other cases encountered by the researchers, though, this was not the case. There were incidents cited in which Butlers, chauffeurs and gardeners, left too much alone with small children and/or teenagers, either molested or completely seduced the daughters of their employers. In some cases the men were eventually found out and dismissed, or turned over to the authorities. This, of course, was little help to the damaged psyches of the young girls and the possible emotional problems of a sexual nature that might crop up as a result of those experiences, later in life.
Again, the only way to prevent such experiences is through closer screening on the part of the parents in the hiring of male employees. Sometimes the hiring only of married couples is a good answer. And up by much closer supervision of the children and their relationship with male domestics.
Sexual relationship between male in-the-house employees and the Madame of the house is a sociological problem that probably never will be solved as long as there are bored and neglected young matrons-whose husbands are either too busy to notice what's going on, or too occupied with their own adultery to care. Certainly the close proximity of the two is a contributing factor.
Researchers have also been told by authoritative sources that it is not uncommon for a wealthy young widow or divorcee to hire a man servant or chauffeur, strictly as a cover-up for what is actually a gigolo relationship. As long as the participants are consenting adults and they are discreet, there is little that the law can do about it. And probably Society could care less.
CHAPTER NINE
THE GENTLEMAN'S GENTLEMAN
This is a term that usually only applies to a valet who works only for the male head of the house. The valet's job is to take care of the master's clothes, wardrobe. He must see that shoes that are starting to wear are thrown out or given to Good Will, and the same things apply to the rest of the master's attire. He must keep shoes constantly polished; suits, great coats and topcoats, slacks and sport jackets, cleaned and pressed. When he is told what kind of an affair the master is going to in the evening, he is expected to lay out the appropriate garments, all ready to be donned. He will run the master's bath when necessary, lay out shaving gear and other necessary toilet articles.
In the case of many men with huge wardrobes and are very socially active, or take a lot of trips, this alone can be a full time job for the valet. When there is a household involved, and a number of servants employed, the valet is in the upper echelon. As long as he does his job properly he does not have to answer to the Madame or any of the other servants. He nearly always accompanies the master on vacations and business trips. It is easy to see why this kind of job, at least when the valet is employed by a kind and thoughtful man, can be desirable.
When the master is a bachelor and not quite as wealthy, the job of valet is sometimes a two or threefold one. The valet may be called upon to double as a chauffeur upon occasion, or as a "houseboy," to wait on table, serve drinks when there are guests.
Seldom, if ever, does this particular type of domestic employee allow himself to be tempted by sexual activity with, other female servants, with the Madame should there is one in the household, or by his master's female guests. There often are such temptations if the valet is an attractive man, but usually he won't take the chance of possible losing his job-especially if it is a particularly good one.
Sex, however, does rear its head in the valet classification of domestic employees. The job is the perfect cover-up for a wealthy homosexual who likes to have a man around the house. Legitimate domestic employment agencies will not usually serve an employer that they know as homosexual tendencies. Nor will really competent and experienced valets take such jobs; they know that they are frequently of short duration. Most homosexual are extremely fickle, and they will soon tire of one man, fire him at the slightest pretext and then hire another. Nor will the legitimate valet put up with some of the sexual aberrations he's likely to encounter with such an employer.
Most such wealthy men will acquire a valet in the following manner. They will visit gay bars, strike up an acquaintance with some young man who appeals to them. They will then make the offer. Often it is so generous that the young homo will accept, even if it means quitting his present employment.
Since the valet in these instances is not expected to be a polished and professional servant, he quickly picks up the fundamentals of his job-and that is all that is required of him along that line. He is, of course, already familiar with his other "duties."
The value of this relationship to the wealthy employer is that he does not have to "cruise" nor habituate gay bars all the time. He is much safer this way. If he is passing as straight, he will usually hire a young man who has been doing the same thing, and very seldom in suspect because he constantly has another man in the house. It also eliminates the possibility of catching a venereal disease from a casual pickup. (The wealthy homosexual hiring a valet for sexual purposes, will usually have the young man go to a physician for a Wasserman examination). It also eliminate the possibility of being blackmailed or set up by some of the young man's "rough trade" friends for a robbing or mugging. (The employer almost always will check out the young man he is thinking of hiring. If the boy has been known to hang around the "rough trade" set, he is usually not hired.)
Many men high in the ranks of almost every profession are, unknown to their business associates or the public, either homosexual, bisexual. A lot of them find the hiring of a "gentleman's gentleman' from their own ranks, the solution to their problem. Some of them are married, have families but still have valets who are always conveniently available.
Sometimes, such relationships can have tragic consequences, over and above the obvious moral ones involved. Witness the following instance:
CASE HISTORY
WALLY
He was a rather ordinary, healthy looking adult young male of twenty-five. He was not limp-wristed, nor did he have any of the stereotyped effeminate gestures or mannerisms. He had a rather heavy beard and considerably body hair and did not look gay. Many homosexuals don't. Visit any gay bar and you'll find that it is very difficult to tell-except for the complete absence of women and some of the more obvious "Nellie" types who are always present-what kind of place it is. Most of the customers will be very "ordinary" looking. Wally was in that category.
Actually, he had at the time he met his employer, little homosexual experience. When he was sixteen, he had become quite close with another boy at summer camp and they had engaged in mutual manipulation. Finally Wally had fellated the other boy.
It was thought that Wally could have gone either way-"straight' or "Homo"-depending on the circumstances. In his case, the circumstances led to the latter life. He was rather shy and retiring. After two years of college, during which time he dated girls sporadically, he took a job with a large insurance company. There were a lot of attractive and single girls present but he found himself less and less interested in them. He had several men friends with whom he went out drinking occasionally, or bowling or playing golf. He found himself sexually attracted to some of these but never gave the fact away by any overt action.
Then, when he was twenty-four, Wally met a girl, Susan, with whom he was immediately infatuated. They began dating. She seemed normal and was 'a very pretty young woman, with a well proportioned, healthy body. Soon they were going steady, and Wally fell madly in love with her.
They became engaged. During these months, although Wally was strongly attracted to her in a sexual way, their love-making never proceeded past the point of necking 'and light petting. They discussed the matter though, and Susan told him that she wanted to wait until their wedding night. At the same time, she kept avoiding setting any date for their marriage, with one excuse or another.
As weeks and months went by 'and Wally had no source of release for his natural sexual energy, he became more and more frustrated. At the same time, Susan seemed to become even more passionate in their kissing and fondling. Several times Wally was so tortured that he was unable to avoid ejaculating in his trousers. He was terribly embarrassed but Susan seemed to find this amusing, when it happened.
Finally, one night alone with Susan in her apartment, their necking and petting went farther than usual. They were on the couch, in the dark and for the first time Wally had succeeded in stripping Susan to the waist and was caressing her bared breasts. Her nipples were thick and long and this seemed to arouse Wally to an unusually high pitch of lust. (Psychologists would explain that this appealed to his latent homosexuality; the large nipples representing to him, subconsciously, tiny phalluses.)
He kept begging her to allow him to go all the way this night 'and although she, too, seemed to be wildly excited, she kept refusing. Finally, over her extreme protests and fierce struggling, he managed to lay her back upon the couch and work her panties down and off of one ankle. As he now caressed her intimately, her protests diminished somewhat. And when he felt her lubricating reaction to his fondling, Wally assumed that she was probably just as ready as he was, that her protests were now mostly token, and she wouldn't offer any further real resistance.
He fumbled his own clothing open, and forced himself betwen her legs. She again began to resist violently, begging him to stop. Now he was completely out of control. In his own excitement, he interpreted her struggles as being a similar reaction.
When he found himself lodged at the entrance, and trying to proceed further, Susan suddenly screamed like 'a banshee. With one hand she beat at his face with her fist, bashing his nose and making it bleed. With the other, she fiercely clawed at his face with her fingernails. At the same time, he prematurely ejaculated, without ever having attained entrance. All the while, Susan was still screaming, clawing and pummeling at him.
When he finally rolled away from her, she leaped up, adjusted her clothing and switched on the light. She was still hysterical, tears streaming from her eyes. Her face contorted with rage as she cursed him and told him to get out. He tried briefly to remonstrate with her, to apologize, explain. But she began throwing things at him, and he was forced to beat a hasty retreat toward the door.
The next day he called her. Susan told him that she now hated him; she didn't want to ever see him again. She called him a wild beast 'and an animal, and claimed that she never had really enjoyed their physical relationship but had put up with it only to please him. He had tried to take advantage of her kindness by trying to do that dirty thing to her, she accused.
It is obvious that Susan was not only frigid, but also had some deeply rooted fear and horror of the act of sexual intercourse, so great that she not only couldn't enjoy it but couldn't even allow it to happen.
This was Wallis first experience with heterosexual love. It shook him to the roots, psychically. He couldn't get the sound of Susan's screaming out of his ears, nor the sight of her contorted face. He was sick with his own embarrassment at the mess he had made upon her person, and the almost total lack of real enjoyment he had achieved from the physical spasm that wracked him at the time. And he was embarrassed about the livid scratches on his face.
In the next couple of weeks, he tried again, in vain, to contact Susan. He finally resigned himself to the fact that he had lost her.
He never went out with a girl again. When he was twenty-five, he met an older man in a bar who got him drunk and then took him to his hotel room and seduced him. The man was kind and patient with him, and Wally was soon enjoying the homosexual lovemaking in which they engaged. The man, 'a traveling salesman, was in town for a week. Wally spent nearly all his nonworking hours with the man. When the man left, Wally missed him. He found himself longing for another such relationship. It was at this point that he decided that he was a homosexual and might 'as well accept the fact.
He was on his first visit to a gay bar when he met Marcus M. Marcus was a reasonably wealthy man, an executive with one of the major film companies in Hollywood. He sat down next to Wally at the bar 'and began a conversation. The first thing that attracted him was the fact that Wally seemed ill at ease in the place, not quite sure what was expected of him. This convinced Marcus that Wally was probably a neophyte, which made him that much more appealing. As the conversation progressed, Marcus learned that this was true.
Finally, Marcus said: "I find you a very interesting young man, Wally. How would you like to work for me?"
Wally registered surprise. "Doing what, sir?" Marcus explained that he was looking for a valet. He explained the details of the job. Wally looked dubious. "I really wouldn't know what to do. I've never done that kind of work."
"It will be simple to learn, Wally. What's your present salary?"
"Five hundred a month."
"Well, I can offer you the same-except that with me, you will have no overhead. The money will be gravy. I'll furnish your clothing, you'll live with me in my beautiful Beverly Hills apartment. You will eat your meals with me. You will actually be more like a dear friend, a guest, than an employee, except when I have people in for a dinner party or such. I have to entertain for business purposes. At such times, of course, we'd have to put on our little master-and-servant charade. What do you say?"
Wally resisted for a few minutes and then the deal was transacted. There was only one condition. Wally was to go see the physician whose card Marcus gave to him. He was also to leave the gay bar, at once and not return. During his employ he was not to patronize such places, nor to bang around with other deviates. Wally, finding himself attracted to the older, dignified looking, well built Marcus, readily agreed. Three days later, he moved into Marcus' sumptuous apartment.
At first he was quite nervous but he got over it gradually, as they had several drinks and then dinner, together. He was, indeed, treated more like 'a guest than an employee. At bedtime, they took separate showers and when Wally, wearing a pair of silk pajamas went into the bedroom, he found Marcus already sprawled upon the bed, naked.
"Come here, dear boy!" Marcus beckoned with his fingers. "One of the first things you must learn is how to give me a relaxing massage. It helps me to sleep better."
"But-but I've never done that," Wally said. "I don't know how!"
"Oh, nonsense, you adorable silly," Marcus told him. He then instructed Wally on how to knead certain muscles on the arms and legs, and demonstrated on Wally. As Marcus did so, he became partially erected and Wally watched this reaction, fascinated.
Then Marcus said: "Now, darling, take off your P.J's and let's begin."
"Do I-do I have to?" Wally asked.
Marcus laughed understandably. "Of course, Wally. Come on, now, don't be bashful. You do want to please me, don't you?"
Wally nodded and then began to unbutton the pajamas. Marcus watched and at the same time manipulated himself until he was fully 'aroused. When Wally finally stood there, in the nude, he was flushed red with embarrassment. He mumbled: "I-I'm sorry to disappoint you, Marcus. I-I just can't help it." He was completely limp.
"Don't apologize, dear," Marcus told him. "I find your bashfulness quite charming. And-that-is merely a natural nervous reaction. We'll take care of it. Now begin the massage."
As Wally began to rub and knead the older man's chest 'and bicep muscles, Marcus reached out and touched him, beginning to caress lightly, teasingly, expertly. "Ah!" he sighed, after awhile. "That's more like it, dear boy. Mmmm! Believe me, you don't disappoint me at all. You're quite magnificent!"
In a few moments Wally began massaging Marcus' thigh muscles, excitedly watching the to 'and fro action of the older man's excitement. He began and to gasp and feel the tightening of his own muscles as Marcus became more demanding with his own caressing.
A few moments later, Marcus gasped and murmured: "Oh, I can't wait any longer, this first time." He took Wally's hand and guided it.
"Massage me here, now, angel, gently at first and then more vigorously!"
With that, Marcus raised up on one elbow, leaned toward Wally, and began to fellate him. Marcus used all the expertise acquired over long years of practice, 'applying delaying and withdrawing tactics until Wally was vibrating all over and begging for relief. When it finally came, Marcus was amply rewarded for his trouble.
From then on, Wally entered into their homosexual relationship completely and without reservation. He became very fond of Marcus and sometimes as they would lie naked in each others arms, they would pour out their words of love for each other. The affair continued for over a year, and Wally was sure that it would never end.. But unknown to him, it had begun to pall on Marcus. He was beginning to look around for a replacement. He began to find Wally's complete devotion a little cloying.
Marcus began to give out subtle hints that he was tiring of the affair. Wally didn't seem to catch on. Marcus became abusive but even that, though it puzzled Wally, couldn't seem to make him accept the inevitable. Finally, Marcus had to come right out with it. He gave Wally a check for $1000 and told him bluntly that he was no longer in his employ.
Wally cried and begged for Marcus to change his mind. It did no good. He finally realized this and left Marcus' apartment. He went out and got drunk. A little after midnight that night, he returned to try once more to get Marcus to reconsider. As he was about to let himself into the door of Marcus' apartment with the key that he had kept, a handsome, broad shouldered young man with tousled blond hair, stepped out of the apartment. He flashed Wally a puzzled smile and said:
"I'm afraid you're a little late, Good Looking. He's pretty well taken care of."
Wally stared after the man, his jaw dropping, his drunken mind trying to assimilate the fact that the stranger was obviously Marcus' new young man and had already taken his place.
Staggering, his mind hazed and beginning to fill with a wild, uncontrollable, jealous anger, he pushed on into the apartment. He found Marcus face down on the bed, fast asleep. The bedclothes were tumbled and tangled, in evidence of what had gone on. Marcus' clothes were strewn about the room where he had hurriedly disrobed.
Wally stood staring at the nude, sleeping man. He said later that he didn't remember what happened next, that a complete fog veiled his brain. What happened was that he strode to a dresser, picked up a heavy stone paper weight, and screaming invective in a shrill, almost feminine voice, repeatedly bashed the paper weight against Marcus' head until he was dead.
The studio for whom Marcus worked put on considerable pressure and had the actual circumstances of the case hushed up. It was listed as a simple case of a loyal and trusted domestic employed suddenly being fired, then getting drunk and returning for revenge.
Wally was given a sentence of second degree murder, and went through psycho-therapy at the penitentiary where the foregoing facts were put on record. Three years later he was attacked and killed by another inmate in the prison shower room.
CHAPTER TEN
SEX BETWEEN SERVANTS
Many a true word has been said in jest. Sexual relationships between domestic servants has long been the basis for off-color humor. Affairs chauffeur or sometimes both, was often the basis between a pretty French maid and the butler or of the "blackout" sketches in the bawdy days of burlesque. It has been the subject of many cartoons. In one men's type magazine, it was used in a variation of the "Whodunnit" novel theme. It showed all the domestic servants of a household-and the master and mistress-lined up before a man in Sherlock Holmes outfit. In the cartoon, the maid, a pretty girl, is shown to be obviously in the late stages of pregnancy. The detective is pointing at the butler. The caption underneath says: "The butler did it!"
It is pretty well accepted that sexual dalliance between male and female servants does occur in even the best regulated homes. Usually, it occurs when the employers are out of the house for some reason. The place is most frequently the servant quarters. Provided there are no children in the family, nobody much cares.
It is a case of familiarity not breeding contempt-but concupiscence. Often it can begin with the delivery man pausing for a refreshing drink of water or a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Then she gives him the eye; he notices the inviting roundness of her derriere, the push of plump breasts against the uniform cloth, perhaps a pair of unusually shapely legs.
His interest is piqued. To break the ice, perhaps he'll then tell a slightly dirty joke, to see what her reaction is, or relate some spicy neighborhood gossip. If the reaction is favorable, it will go on from there. As she passes the table where he's sitting, sipping coffee, he'll reach out and give her a playful pat on the rump. The next step is to pull her down onto his lap.
The foregoing technique was described by a thirty-five year old laundry man whose route was a swanky suburb in a Midwestern city. He was a brawny, ruggedly good looking man, always attired in a spanking clean white uniform. When asked about possible interruptions from the rest of the household, other servants, etc., he said:
"Oh, there's always a way to work things out. Sometimes, after the preliminaries you have to make a date to meet the broad outside on her day or night off. But a lot of times you can make out, right on the premises, while you're both on the job. In one place I deliver, there's this cute little Polish maid. Well, out in the backyard, off the kitchen, there's this grape arbor. When you're in it, you're completely hidden from everybody. In another joint, there's a big playhouse for the kids, big enough to walk into. They got a nice young cook there, so we use the playhouse to play house, you know what I mean? Oh, yeah, I got to tell you this-near the end of my route, there's this English maid, who's a living doll. She also doubles as cook on the cook's day off, which is my delivery day. I get there early in the A.M., before her family's up out of bed. We use the pantry, without putting the light on. She leaves the door ajar and if anybody comes in the kitchen looking for her, she'll hear them. So she just drops her skirts and goes on out, while I hide at the back of the pantry in the dark. When whoever it is, leaves, back she comes and we finish up what we're doing.
"The first time we did it there, it was standing up. But this was a little uncomfortable, so after that, she moved one of those kitchen footstool-ladder type things in there and now we use that. On these days, she forgets to wear panties, so there's no problem for her. If we get caught short, she just drops her skirt and out she goes. It happened one time and man, you can believe I was pretty nervous, sitting back there in the dark pantry-on that damned fool stool-with my pants at half mast, listening to the maid and the old lady, jawing out in the kitchen! Well, hell, it's all part of the job."
Delivery men, though, have tough competition with a sexy looking maid, cook or housekeeper when there's a virile, attractive man servant of any type in the same household. Naturally, he has the inside track, and the girl is usually pretty well taken care of, without outside help.
A researcher ran across an unusual case that happened in a Northwest city. A wealthy, middle aged bachelor died suddenly of a heart attack. When the executors of his estate checked out the property, they found a secret passageway leading from the garage into the house, between walls of the servants quarters. The man employed a staff of three maids, two butlers and a chauffeur. There were four bedrooms in the servants' quarters. In each was a two-way mirror so that anyone in the secret passageway could see what was going on in each room.
Further investigation of the dead man's files and private papers revealed a bath of photographs that he had taken through the two-way mirrors. As an ardent voyeur, he had obviously hired servants for the sexy qualities as much as anything else. The three maids were a blonde, a brunette and a redhead. The blonde was big and buxom,: the brunette, tiny and petite, the redhead tall and lithesome, with unusually long legs.
The secret photographs showed varying couples taking turns with each group in the widest variety of sexual activity. In one group of photographs, all six servants were depicted in a wild orgy of group sex.
In households where two female servants have to share the same room, in some instances it is almost inevitable that acts of lesbianism result. In one case an attractive but obviously "butch" housekeeper in charge of hiring all the servants, hired only the cutest and youngest girls as maids. Naturally, the maid was assigned to sleep in the housekeeper's room. She quickly learned to let the housekeeper have her way with her in bed at night or lose her job. Some quit the first night; others didn't.
The following case cites very obviously why in households where children are present, parents should check constantly on the moral standards of domestic employees.
CASE HISTORY
BESSIE AND HILDA
Alex B., a twenty-eight year old bookkeeper was arrested in a Southwestern city on a Peeping Tom charge. He was then identified as a "prowler" who had been spotted but never apprehended in a number of other cases. Under rather rough interrogation, he broke down and told the police his whole story.
As a voyeur, Alex had a specialty. He would check apartment mailboxes until he saw the names of two females living together. Then he would check their windows, late at night, hoping to catch the two roommates in acts of lesbianism. Ht was interested in nothing else. There was also one known bar for women in the town, and sometimes Alex would watch for two women to leave there, then follow them home and spy in their windows.
When asked why he did this, Alex paused for a moment and then said: "I keep hoping one of these times, they'll catch me pepping and invite me in to join them. That's all I can keep thinking about, while I'm watching; what it would be like to be in there with them."
Some psychologists explain that this is the motivation, at least subconsciously, of 'all men who enjoy watching lesbian acts at stag parties or in pornographic films. It is thought that the male, witnessing such acts feels "left out." Perhaps he even feels that his masculinity is threatened. He then reasons that the only way to alter this situation is to become a part of it, even though only in a vicarious manner.
The motivation for Alex B.'s neurotic compulsion occurred during his teens. At fifteen, Alex still had a baby face, and a slight, slim physique. He was often thought a couple of years younger. Actually, he was physically mature and had been practicing onanism to climax since he was not quite fourteen.
Again, as is often the case with children reared mostly by servants, lacking any genuine attachment to parents, he was a rather awkward, shy youth, inclined to crushes on attractive young female servants.
It was noted that during this midteen period, Alex was fascinated by the buttocks of women, and their sex organs. From a school friend who was the son of a doctor, he had once borrowed 'a pictorial text book, intended only for the use of medical students. It was on the subject of human anatomy. From this, he traced photographs of the female genitalia. Combined with his own version of what a shapely female posterior would look like, drawn from different angles, he used these drawings to help protect various fantasies during masturbation.
Alex's father was a wealthy dress manufacturer-his mother a designer. They had large mansions in New York City, Bar Harbor, Maine and Palm Beach, Florida. Each was equipped with a complete entourage of servants. Because it was necessary for his father and mother to be away a lot on business trips, Alex was raised pretty much by a succession of governesses.
When he was ten years old, he remembered, he was very attached to a pretty young Swiss governess named Ilka. He became fascinated by the fact that whenever Ilka went to the bathroom, he always heard the sound of the seat being slammed down. He wondered why she had to have the seat down when she urinated. Finally, his childish curiosity provoked him to spy through the keyhole of the bathroom. The commode happened to set facing the door. Alex was popeyed with amazement to observe that Ilka was not equipped as he was, that she urinated from a curl-surrounded crevice! He stated that at that moment tumescence occurred but that it was a pleasantly excited feeling, but that was all.
After that, at every opportunity he spied through the bathroom door when Ilka was in there. Finally, he was caught in the act by a middle aged housekeeper, who promptly boxed his ears, told him that he was a nasty little devil to do something like that, and if she ever caught him at it again she would tell his mother and father! Alex went crying to his room and never did try to spy on Ilka again.
Consciously, it was thought that he forgot the matter entirely, until he reached puberty.
When Alex was thirteen, his father's business went bankrupt and a few weeks later, his father killed himself with a revolver. His mother then took a job as head designer with another dress manufacturer, and although she made an upper income salary, it didn't compare to that brought in by their own business during good times. It was necessary for Alex's mother to curtail expenses, which she did by moving to a smaller home and cutting the serving staff down to a maid for the housework and cooking, and a governess to take care of Alex while the mother was on one of her frequent business trips.
When Alex was fifteen-and vacationing from boarding school, his governess was an attractive young woman of thirty, named Hilda. A rosy faced, solidly built Scandinavian woman, she looked at least five years younger than her actual 'age. She was intelligent and jolly and Alex became quite fond of her. So much so that he began to inject her into his fantasies while masturbating.
The maid at that time was a slightly older German woman named Bessie. Bessie was tall and slender, with a graceful carriage and a pretty, dark complexioned face. Bessie had sharp, pointed breasts that were often quite noticeable through her uniform bodice, and although she was slender, her posterior was quite prominent. These features fascinated young Alex and he began to alternate Bessie with Hilda in his sexual fantasies.
The summer Alex was fifteen and his mother was away, he noticed that several nights a week, Hilda would tell him that she was unusually tired 'and wanted to retire early, so he would have to do the same. On these nights she would repeatedly ask him whether there was anything else he needed after going to bed, such as a drink of water or something to eat, so that he wouldn't have to get up later on. She would do this before finally closing his door for the night.
One night, when Alex had been in bed for over an hour and was unable to go to sleep, he decided that perhaps a cup of warm milk would help. When he was younger and had trouble sleeping, one of his governesses had always prescribed this. He got up, quietly opened his door so as not to disturb the presumably sleeping servants, and headed for the kitchen. Passing Hilda's room, he was surprised to see that her door was open and the glow from the hall light showed that it was empty, her bed still made. Then he noticed that across the hall, Bessie's door was closed.
At the same time, he became aware of strange sounds issuing from behind Bessie's closed bedroom door. Curious, Alex tiptoed to the door and listened. Finally, he pressed his ear against the wood to hear even better. He recognized the voice, accompanied by heavy breathing and gasping, groaning sounds, as that of Hilda. He heard her whimper: "Oh, Bessie, that's lovely! ... Oh, perfect, darling! ... Mmmmm, Mmmmm! Oh, I wish we could do it forever ... Oh, you're making me go insane ... Oh! Ah! Oh! ... I-I'm getting ready! Oh, faster now! Oh, feel my breasts, now! Oh, it-it's going to-to happen!
. Ooooooh!"
Then Alex heard the bedsprings begin to creak and groan furiously. There was a succession of long, keening, half screams that lasted for nearly a minute, then tapered off to a complete silence in the room.
Afraid that the occupants might suddenly come out now that whatever had been going on was over, Alex dashed back to his own room, quietly shut the door and climbed back into bed. For the first time he realized that he was in a violently aroused state. He moved his hand down under the covers to take care of this matter. He thought about what he had heard. He knew by the sounds, instinctively, that some kind of sexual 'activity had been going on. but what? How could it? They were both women! Finally he decided that they must have been using some kind of long, rounded object like a broom handle to poke into themselves. He determined that if it happened again he would see what was going on as well as hear it.
The next day, when he was able to get away for a few moments unobserved, he took a drill and bored a tiny hole at eye level in Bessie's bedroom door.
It was several nights later before he was able to use it. This night he stood by his own door after Hilda had left him, assured that he was in bed for the night. He listened for activity out in the hall. In about twenty minutes he heard the two women whispering out there. Then he heard a door softly close. He peeked out. Bessie's door was closed.
Alex went out into the hall, tiptoed to the door, placed his eye at the hole he had drilled. He was gratified to see that the light, although it came only from a subdued lamp, was on. He could see quite clearly. He now began to shake with excitement 'as he saw that Hilda and Bessie, both undressing, were practically finished. First Bessie was naked, and Alex could scarcely suppress a gasp at the sight of her high, pear-shaped breasts with the dark, pointy tips. He saw her high and prominently jutting posterior, and its contrast to her slim waist and slender legs. Then Hilda finished undressing and Alex's youthful eyes were treated to a complete view of her large, soft, billowing breasts, with their erect pink crests, and her rounded tummy and short, fleshy thighs.
He was amazed then to see the two nude women move together and embrace and kiss deeply, twistingly, the way Alex had seen men and women do in the movies and on TV. He watched them rub their breasts together, brushing the hard tips back and forth against each other. He watched their hands move caressingly over each other's sleekly fleshed bodies. Then he saw, after awhile, Bessie lead Hilda toward the bed.
When Hilda was on her back, on the bed, Bessie stood over her and bent and caressed Hilda's big, heaving breasts with her mouth and tongue, while she stroked and gently squeezed Hilda's round white thighs, moving her hand higher and higher. By now Hilda was beginning to moan and gasp and call Bessie by endearing terms.
Watching all this, Alex was almost out of his mind with vicarious excitement. Then he saw Bessie climb onto the bed, position herself, and then commence cunnilingus. This was too much for Alex as he saw Hilda begin to react with wild wrigglings and squirmings, hunchings and outcries. He exposed himself and his Land became busy. In a few moments he lost control and stained the rug. Weakly, then, his curiosity and excitement appeased, he moved quietly back to his own room.
For two weeks, Alex spied on the two women in the same manner and always with the same result. He no longer practiced masturbation at any other time, but waited especially for these moments. Then, one night while he was stationed at his peephole, and both women were disrobed down to their bras and panties, the suddenly whispered briefly. Bessie moved out of his line of vision. The next moment the door was thrown wide open and Bessie stood there, glaring at him.
"So we were right!" she said. "You young scamp, you've been spying on us!"
Alex was petrified as Bessie told him that they had just discovered the tiny hole drilled in the door, noticed the stains on the rug outside the door and had figured out what had been going on. In 'a few moments Alex noticed that the women weren't really as angry as they pretended. Finally, Bessie turned to Hilda and said: "Now what do we do? Supposing he should tell on us?"
"Oh, I won't! I won't!" Alex quickly avowed.
The three of them talked it over and it was Hilda who finally decided that the harm had already been done, that Alex had already seen everything that had been going on and that apparently, by the evidence, he was much more physically mature than she'd thought. Perhaps it would be fun if he joined them, making it a threesome. That way, since he would then be involved, it was less likely that he would ever tell on them. Timidly, Alex agreed. A little later, as he watched the girls begin their mutual lovemaking, Alex's timidity was forgotten in his intense excitement. Before they went too far, they insisted that Alex strip, too. Both of them exclaimed over his masculinity which was out of proportion to his slight build and baby-like features. They took turns manipulating him, at the same time allowing him to manually explore their rounded bodies.
Then, while Bessie engaged in cunnilingus with Hilda. Alex stood beside the bed while Hilda toyed with him. She fellated him to completion just as she was experiencing her own zenith of excitement.
For the rest of the summer, Alex joined the two women in a variety of sexual activities that can be accomplished by two females and a male. At times he accommodated each of them in the same way that they'd previously serviced each other.
That fall, Alex's mother sent him away to a private school in another state. Hilda was let go, of course, and by the time Alex returned home from school, Bessie had been fired for some reason and her place was taken by a homely middle-aged woman.
In the summers of his late teens, Alex began sexual experimentation with girls his own age. He found it unsatisfactory. Something was missing. He enjoyed physical release but it seemed bland and nowhere near as intense as what he'd enjoyed in his sessions with Hilda and Bessie.
One time he attempted to perform cunnilingus on a seventeen-year old girl with whom he had previously had routine sex relations, but she rejected him completely, telling him that he was filthy and dirty to even think about doing such a thing.
Soon he found himself nervous and uncomfortable with young women his own age. At twenty, Alex's mother died and there was little of cash value left in her estate. What there was, he spent the first year, and after that he had to go to work.
During his twenties Alex became more and more of a loner and usually obtained sexual release by his own manual manipulation. He was twenty-six before he started on his career of voyeurism and had been working at it successfully. Every month or so he would actually be able to spy on two women engaged in lesbian acts. Other times, just watching them undress, perhaps, or taking showers, would fire his imagination enough for him to fantasy what they might be going to do in the privacy of their bedroom. After two years, he was arrested.
The foregoing case history graphically describes how an early youthful experience in sexual depravity, resulting originally from nothing more than boyish curiosity about the opposite sex, can later result in possible permanent psychic scars.
Although one cannot condone the conduct of the two women involved in this case, it seems that the fault was not primarily theirs. Their aberrations were being practiced in what they thought was complete privacy.
Here 'again we see the result of children lacking almost entirely in parental affection and supervision, their tender, impressionable years left in the hands of outsiders. Their young minds and bodies are thus often exposed to seeing, hearing or even actually participating in various types of sexual misconduct. And why? Because the parent or parents are too busy making money or engaged in outside social 'affairs, and take what looks to be the easiest way out.
Fortunately, cases involving children such as have been cited in this book happen in only a minority of instances. For the most part this is not to the credit of the parents who dump their responsibilities on someone else so that they are free to further their careers or social ambitions, but to the fact that in the majority of such cases, the servants involved are of high moral character. They are sincere and dedicated people who are aware of the responsibility handed down to them and do a first rate job, as much as it is possible, in becoming parent-substitutes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DOMESTIC EMPLOYMENT AGENCIES
The father of one of the researchers who supplied material for this volume, was for many years during the pre-depression days, owner of a large domestic employment agency in one of the largest cities in the world. He supplied help for many of the socially registered families of that era as well as for many of the nouveau riche, including prominent gangsters of the time.
At this time, especially, when there was a tremendous immigration influx, there was great competition among girls of foreign origin, newly arrived in this county, each seeking employment as domestic help. Consequently, a great many unscrupulous agency owners took advantage of this fact, and when they interviewed buxom, sexually attractive and often not too bright young European peasant girls, they made it clear that they could obtain placement only if they would indulge the interviewer with a few favors. All too often the desperate girls were forced to oblige. Even when they didn't, they were afraid to report the man. Employment agency interviewers were kings at that time.
Other agencies had no compunction about acting practically as wholesale procurers, supplying female help to wealthy old men who were known lechers, or to families where it was known that the male head of the house and often a grown son, too, would quickly take advantage of the girls sent to them.
A couple of agencies at that time were run by hatchet-faced, "butch" type business women of middle age, who specialized in placing female help in households where there were known lesbian tendencies. In some cases, these female agency owners were inclined to sample the charms of the girls they sent out, before agreeing to place them.
Laws in those times, in some cities, were extremely lax. Where the laws did exist they were often not enforced. Today laws are much stronger, much more ardently enforced. Especially regarding agencies which supply females from foreign countries. A prospective employer is always carefully screened.
Still, incidents do occur. How completely can references be checked? A man may have the best of references, be respected in the community, have been a church-goer and upstanding family man for years. Yet it's always possible that his moral standards might suddenly break down once there is a sexually provocative young female in the home with him alone. Or perhaps he's been successfully hiding some secret vice for years.
In one of our big coastal cities, a pretty young Scandinavian girl was working as a maid in a home where there was a father, mother and two small children. The girl was using her off-time, studying to be a dental technician. She had been with the family six months and was very happy there, when one night while she was home alone with the male head of the house, he entered her room and brutally raped her.
The girl, frightened of reprisal, or of being thought a liar, kept her mouth shut about the incident. Until she found out she was pregnant.
The man had no criminal record, had as far as anybody knew, never done anything like that before. He could offer no explanation except that he had found the girl sexually stimulating to him for a long time and that this night, under the heady influence of a few drinks, he could no longer stand it. Also, he said, he felt pretty sure because of her vulnerable position, that she would not tell on him.
Fortunately, such cases as this are rare and far between. Laws in most states and cities are at least adequate in their protection of domestic servants. However, agencies and authorities responsible must be constantly on the alert to see to it that there is no relaxation in these particular laws and to consider new and addition ones which might be much more all-encompassing, as per the suggestion regarding baby sitters mentioned in an earlier chapter.
It must also be urged that the domestic servant and his employer report all criminal or moral acts on the part of either one or the other, to the authorities as soon as they are discovered. People reluctant to involve themselves, or figure that it's "too much trouble" to report such incidents are only encouraging such behavior, making it possible for the same thing to happen to somebody else in the future.
In summing up, it is hoped that this book has shed some light on areas of sexual and sometimes criminal activity which can involve children, juveniles and adults. It has been a long-neglected area because of attitudes of prudery or just plain "who cares?"
