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ORFANS: HILDA'S DIARY [ part 1 ] Start: Tue May 9, 1780 Dr. Henry Browne's 1786 account tells how he ran The Great Orfanage in London, and in particular of the punishments given to the orphan Beryl by Hilda, the governess of m'Lady Cynthia and Sir Thomas B---, before she was taken to join their household at Richmond. The following extracts have been transcribed from the diary of Hilda, for which we have thank Ms. Fifi Babette who discovered the original in the Fitzwilliam at Cambridge, England. The diary is penned in six notebooks, each of five sheets of paper which are stitched together by hand down the middle, to give one hundred twenty pages of writing. It starts and ends as though these are six of a series of notebooks, but none others have thus far been discovered. The original wording of Hilda's diary has been altered only where needed for understanding by a modern reader. No attempt has been made to change the leisurely pace of Hilda's narrative, as she records the painful spankings and other shameful mistreatments that were given to the bottom of the eleven-year-old orphan Beryl. "Shameful mistreatment" today, though commonly practiced it seems, in the 1700's - and did bring only great joy to Beryl herself! The diary may be called repulsive by some: You read on at your own risk . . . Pentland Embury, Ed., August 25, 2000 Tuesday, May 9, 1780 I take up again the writing of my diary. After m'Lady Cynthia brought the orphan Beryl from the Great Orfanage to Richmond, she settled the girl into a routine by having her do simple sewing each day under m'Lady's direction. Beryl eats her meals with the children and me in the nursery, where they are brought to us by the servant girl Jane, and Beryl has a room to herself on the same floor of the west wing as us, not in the servants' attic. I am mostly occupied giving lessons to the two children of m'Lady: Morag, 7, and Giles, 5, and teaching them to eat with good table manners and to behave well in general, guiding them with firm discipline at all times. Morag is a sturdy girl, taking after the build of her father, and with his same genial nature. Giles is quite different: he is small, even for a 5-year-old, with fair curly hair and blue eyes, highly intelligent and inclined to get over-excited. Beryl now looks after the children for some hours each day, and Jane occasionally does this too, which gives me some welcome time to myself. M'Lady finds fault with Beryl's work almost every week, and instructs me to punish her in the way I had done at the Great Orfanage, while a maid takes the children away from the house and out of earshot for an hour. These punishments of Beryl always end by tying her wrists to a spreader bar above her head and caning her bottom to make her dance lively . . . which m'Lady likes to see. After punishment by me, which m'Lady watches through a peep-hole behind a picture on the wall, I lead Beryl into her room and lay her sobbing and naked, face down on the bed for m'Lady to soothe her pain and speak forgivingly to her until her tears are dried. Beryl soon settled into steady weeks of living, helping me with lessons to the children; sewing; and spankings which m'Lady enjoys to watch, then enjoys even more to soothe and forgive her. This warm Summer afternoon, while Beryl was looking after the two children, I sat with my book in the rose arbour, dipping once more into the passionate Elizabethan poems of Skelton, Wyatt, and Shakespeare, when I heard Sir Thomas and his doctor, Abercrombie, stop to talk on the other side of the high yew hedge. I thought to rise and silently leave, but their first words transfixed me . . . "Doctor, I would dearly love to slide my rampant yard deep into the soft warm bottom of young Beryl . . . "Tell me, how can I do this without injury to her with my huge engine?" I froze . . . I could not move . . . I had to hear more . . . "Many of the nobility use this way with their servant girls, Sir Thomas, so as to avoid later muling and puking of infants that do so greatly disrupt a household. "There are two common ways to achieve it without injury, Sir Thomas . . . Beryl is a tall slender girl of eleven . . . but it can be done at eight or even younger . . . "With either way, you had best always spank her soundly first: it relaxes her muscles and eases your entry. "The simplest and the oldest way is for me to give you a thick padded ring to slide down over your rampant yard, so you can not enter too far into her". "Let me be plain doctor, and we are alone so I'll speak clear . . "I want my stiff yard so far into Beryl's bottom that I feel her two lovely soft warm cheeks pressing hard against me . . "How can I do that without risk to split her?" "It will take careful work to prepare her Sir Thomas, but it can certainly be done so you will have your desire within a month. . . and she will most greatly delight in your doing of it! "Tell me Sir Thomas, while she is being prepared for your use, do you perhaps have any friend for whom you may also wish her to be prepared - a friend whose rampant yard may be even larger than your own?" "Share her with a good friend?! I like it!! "Possibly his Grace the Duke of D---- . . . His wife the Duchess died a year ago, poor fellow, and he lacks for female company. "He is a close friend of like interests, and I believe he is even better endowed that me . . ." "I ask because before all else, Sir Thomas, I must measure the thickness and lengths of both your rampant yards. Only thus can the girl be prepared so we can be sure she will not be injured by your entry. "A simple way for both you and his Grace to achieve this state of rampant desire is to have Beryl herself suck on your yards with her own sweet lips . . . one after the other. Sir Thomas: "Egad! Doctor, you are right . . for the girl has a compliant nature. She aches to feel appreciated, I have noticed, and loves doing for someone who cares for her. And if that someone wished to experiment with things new to her, I wager she'd be willing to do't". "I suggest we blindfold her first that we do not frighten her. Then have her kneel somewhere padded and comfortable . . . such as the altar rail in your chapel, which she can hold to steady herself. "You step towards her from the other side of the rail with your codpiece open, and I tell her to suck as though taking the milk direct from a cow - for she knows about milking from her time at the Orfanage. "When you are fully engorged, I have her cease and measure you with my calipers. This will tell me how long we need to make the inside of her bottom. "Then I instruct her to do the same with his Grace's yard, and I measure him also". "After you have measured the size of my rampant yard, you must tell Beryl to continue to "milk the cow", so she finishes what she has started, and swallows the "milk" too, doctor! "And the same for his Grace!!" "Of course, Sir Thomas . . . as you wish . . . "And from your judgment of the girl, she should take well to the work; you may then choose to add it to her other household duties . . . and without a blindfold, perchance! "And be assured, Sir Thomas, when I know the sizes that she is to be prepare for, we will only add to the *length* of her straight passageway, so to ensure you do not pierce her within. "We will do nothing to her diameter inside: you yourself will stretch her narrow chitterling each time you do enter, and this enlargement of a girl by your rampant yard does provide untold ecstasy to you and her, both, when you do enter the bottom of a young girl. "It is more sensuous by far, to both you and her, than your rampant yard in her virgin vagina: and the narrowness of her anus is as nothing compared to the grip along the whole length of your rampant member as it burrows slowly up, stretching her narrow passage . . . as you may well know . . . it does feel like unto Heaven itself! "Our work is to increase her *length* inside, and this will be greatly eased by a device invented by my colleague, Dr Yarrow. He has a busy practice treating servant girls and others in this way, and is most expert in the matter. "I will ask how soon he can bring the equipment and perform the delicate operation for us to give greater length to the straight part as you will enter her bottom . . . if you agree to this course, Sir Thomas?" "The plan sounds good, and I would like to carry it through as soon as you and he are able". "I will send word immediately to Dr Yarrow in the City, Sir Thomas, to ask how soon he can come. "He will require a coach to transport himself the ten miles with his device. "He will need, I know, the services of Mistress Hilda or another one skilled in nursing for the two weeks of slow straightening that he may need to ensure success". "Before your colleague arrives, doctor, you will insist m'Lady Cynthia takes the waters for at least a month at the Pantiles of Tunbridge. I will give her some spending money and she will welcome the chance to join the fashionable fops and folderols there for a few weeks". I then heard them walk off towards the house, still talking, and I was left unsure whether to be more fearful or excited at the prospect ahead. I hastened soon after to my room, to commit this to paper now while still fresh in my memory . . . Wednesday, May 17, Noon. M'Lady Cynthia departed two days past in Sir Thomas' coach to stay with her sister at Tunbridge Wells for a month, thirty miles distant. The coach returned yesterday, ready to go to London for Dr. Yarrow and his device (which I die to see!). His Grace the Duke of D---- arrives this afternoon, for his size to be measured!! Seven in the Evening of Wednesday. Sir Thomas and the doctor want me to conduct the orphan Beryl through the tests they plan to make with her, and for me to speak to her and keep a hand touching her at all times, so she will be compliant and have no fear. I accordingly told Beryl that Sir Thomas and the doctor wished her to do some simple experiments with them, like unto the learned men and women who have been breathing Laughing Gas in London to know its effects . . . but nothing so severe. "They love you well, dear Beryl. You can be sure no ill can become of you". "If you do stay close at all times, Mistress Hilda, I know no harm can happen". And with that we went down to the main hall where Sir Thomas and his Grace and the doctor Abercrombie awaited. "Thank you for agreeing to do some small experiments, Beryl. And, did Mistress Hilda tell you? Be sure you keep what we do as a secret, my dear, and speak of what we do to no one, not even my wife, for we are like to be the first to make certain scientific discoveries. "Have you met his Grace the Duke of D----? He is to be with us and is staying for a few days". Beryl gave his Grace her most demure and angelic smile as she dropped a deep and pretty curtsy to him . . . "And you know our doctor well of course". And Beryl gave a quick bob, as appropriate to his lower rank, nodding her head as she did so. "Mistress Hilda will first put this blindfold of black silk over your eyes, for you must not know which one of us is doing or speaking any of the things . . . I don't suppose you often get to have real silk from China next to your skin, do you my dear?" And much more of the same chatter from Sir Thomas to make Beryl feel at ease, while I tied the ample blindfold in place then led Beryl by the hand through the door to the chapel and helped her to kneel at the altar rail, telling her to hold it well. Sir Thomas gave me a strange look at one point . . . for I seemed to know what Beryl was to do almost before he had given me the signal . . . Little did he know I had their whole plan from listening in the rose arbour!! I kept my hand lightly on Beryl's shoulder, as Sir Thomas had asked. The doctor began to speak: "Beryl, you are to open your mouth . . a little wider . . and I am going to place in it like unto the part of a cow that you learned to milk at the Great Orfanage . . . "Now I want you to suck on this cow's teat . . . suck with all your might . . as hard as you can . . but do not bite it . . "You feel it in your mouth . . . it swells and enlarges from what you are doing . . . "Now slow your sucking and swirl your warm tongue around it . . . now open your mouth for me to make a measurement on the teat.. "So . . . good girl . . . well done". and the good doctor quickly used his wooden caliper to measure the length of Sir Thomas' throbbing member . . . and a tape for its circumference . . . then said: "Six a quarter . . . Four exact. "Do now continue your work, Beryl . . suck hard . . hard . . "Keep at it . . "And swallow the milk that the cow will give . . it is excellent for your health!! "Now open your mouth and I remove the cow's teat . . . and give you of another drink . . . from a cup. "The whiskey and milk, Hilda!! "Hilda, will you take a napkin to Beryl's lips, please . . . the cow's milk did somewhat overflow . . . "And Hilda, give Beryl a sweetmeat to refresh her before we continue". My hand was all this time reassuringly on Beryl's shoulder, and I squeezed her gently as she ate the sugar sweet, to tell her all was well . . . "Now Beryl, you have finished the sweetmeat I see . . . We need to repeat what you have just done, with another cow... "One measurement is never good in matters scientific, you know! "Hold the rail firmly again and oooopen your mouth . . . wider! and I insert the cow's teat . . . thus. "Now as before, suck hard . . . hard . . . hard . . . "And it grows and swells in your mouth . . . "Good . . . now open your mouth while I remove it to measure . . "Six a half . . . Four a quarter . . . "Well done, Beryl . . . now I return it to see if you can make it larger still with sucking . . . "And swirl your tongue around it too . . . "Now open . . . and I measure again . . . the same . . . "Now I return it for you to suck until it yields its milk". All looked to go well . . . when Beryl did suddenly release her hold on the rail and before I could stop her, raised her two hands to bring them forward and clasp between them whatever was attached to the "Cow's Teat" . . . She took but a moment to understand that she held the hips of a man... then clasped them firmly and eagerly pulled the hips so the "Cow's Teat" did slide far down her throat as it spirted out its milk . . . And his Grace did permit his hands to lightly caress the hair of Beryl's head and pull it gently towards him . . . It was a most touching moment, as the angelic blindfolded virgin of eleven awoke to what it was she did . . . . and showed that it delighted her. Then the magic of the spell was broken by the Doctor: "Now Beryl, open your mouth and release what is in it . . . and take another drink from the cup to restore you". Then for the first time in all this, Beryl spoke: "Thank you, doctor. I would like to hold the taste that is now in my mouth, an't please you, sir". For a moment, the doctor was at a loss . . . then: "You are to be most highly commended for your preference! Good girl!! "Now our experiments are completed for tonight and we thank you. Remember . . . Not a word to *anybody* of what we have done. "Mistress Hilda will now conduct you back to your room, and be sure to sleep well tonight, for we have a busy day for you tomorrow. "I bid you a good night from us all". I helped Beryl to her feet from where she knelt at the altar rail, and she did curtsey most prettily again, blindfolded though she was, with a sweet smile that would melt the heart of an ogre . . . but with the smallest dribble of "milk" falling from the corner of her mouth . . . As I held her arm, she turned and walked with me from the chapel into the main hall again, and I closed the door behind us. I removed the blindfold from Beryl's eyes, and she had no idea which door we had just come through, as she had never been in the chapel before . . . As we made out way back to the nursery floor of the west wing, going up the servants' stairs behind the main hall, Beryl asked: "That last time, the man I held, he was the Duke wasn't he? He was larger . . . I like him so much, Mistress Hilda". "People like you and me, Beryl, don't like or dislike a Duke, or Sir Thomas or any other of the gentry. We just do what they want, and we do it as well as we possibly can, and be thankful that they feed and clothe us Beryl". When we reached the nursery, the children were already sleeping of course, and I offered Beryl a chicken wing to eat and bread. But she would have none of it: "..for it would spoil the taste I have in my mouth, thank you" And she went straight to bed. I put my head in ten minutes ago, and she was sound asleep, with flushed cheeks and looking as angelic as ever . . . Thursday, May 18, Morning "First after breakfast we will make you clean - oh! so clean! Outside and in!", I said as I woke Beryl. Beryl's eyes sparkled. She loved being the center of attention. For an eleven-year-old with such a pale slender figure, her bottom was unexpectedly pronounced and well-rounded, soft and warm and sensuous . . . "I will like that, Mistress Hilda! Thank you!" Beryl sat in her nightdress at the table by a window that looked out over Richmond Park so she could watch the deer that roamed freely (property of the King!) while she ate her simple breakfast of bread and honey, and a mug of milk. She loves this first quiet bit of her day in the home of m'Lady Cynthia and Sir Thomas. It is so different from the Great Orfanage in the bustle and noise of London's centre, as she keeps telling me. Here, the early morning sun shines through the leaves of the trees and nothing moves except the deer that are treading delicately as they take their first meal of the day . . . (much as you can see them in Richmond Park today: Ed) "Hurry now! We don't have all day to gaze out the window! Off to the jakes with you, and be sure to take time and do all you can" When Beryl returned to her room, I had a tub ready with warm water to bathe her. Beryl slid off her nightdress and lowered herself into the tub, and I used soap to make Beryl specially clean. Then out and dry with a thick coarse cloth that made her skin bright and rosy as I rubbed it hard all over her . . . The fire made a warm glow in the room and I motioned for Beryl to bend herself over the table, ready for her clean-out clyster, as the young servant girl, Jane, came in to help me. Beryl folded her arms against the top of her chest, as usual, and bent to rest her shoulders on a pillow at the table's edge. I made sure she held steady, with a halter-strap above her shoulders, and another across under her armpits, holding her firm to the table. With her feet standing well apart to steady herself, her bottom bent over, and her body horizontal above the floor, I would be able to rub her tummy to ensure the water flowed well up to clean her insides . . . "Jane, did you get the bowl of roasting fat from cook, as I asked?" "Yes, Mistress Hilda. "She gave me a good bowl: it's there on the shelf. "Cook says that passing the melted fat through a cloth does take most of the flavour away for eating on bread, but she has done like you asked and it is crystal clear. "It is the drippings from the roast of pork on Sunday. I had Jane mix a basin of warm soapy water, then I pulled the plunger from the cylinder of the large clyster to draw about a gallon of the warm soapy mixture up to fill the barrel. The long metal cylinder with a gallon of water in it was quite heavy and I used the support made for it that stood on the floor and was shaped like a crutch. I used the pork dripping to grease the long fat ivory nozzle and slid it carefully towards Beryl's waiting rosebud, then slid it gently up into her bottom: "Beryl, the doctor has ordered me, first, to force a whole gallon of warm soapy water into your bottom". I pushed the handle slowly, and I could see Beryl feel the thrill and excitement (which she always got) as the warm water began to surge into her bottom. When the plunger was about half way in, I told Jane to hold up the barrel of the clyster, and I reached under Beryl to work my fingers deep into her tummy: "This will help the water to go right up inside you Beryl", I took the clyster back from Jane's grasp . . . and drew much of the water slowly out of Beryl's bottom by pulling the plunger back a long way . . . then I pushed it back in again, quickly, even further than it had been . . . and could see Beryl's tummy bulge hard with the pressure. I repeated this, pulling water slowly back out of Beryl's bottom (and the large nozzle was wide enough to pass everything through), then pumping it quickly up . . up . . up. . . to make her tummy bulge more than ever. "There! You have the whole gallon clyster inside your bottom now. Jane, you are to hold the barrel here and stay just like this until I tell you both you can move. "We must give the soapy water inside you time to do its cleaning "And don't you two let a single drop leak onto the floor or it's the cane on your hand for both of you!" And I went busying myself about the room while Jane stood holding the huge clyster barrel, terrified to move in case some water would leak out from Beryl's bulging tummy . . . Beryl herself clearly wasn't sure if she felt more excitement from the great pressure of hot water in her tummy, or fear at the thought of letting some of it to leak out while she waited. After five minutes I returned and pulled over a tub on wheels, ready for Beryl to sit on. "Now Jane, when I say "Go!" you pull the nozzle slowly out of Beryl's bottom, and I'll press my thumb in to stop any leaks. "Beryl, I have released your straps, once you feel my thumb in your bottom, I will help you stand up, then you sit down on the tub behind you to empty yourself. "Ready? GO!" It worked well: I was deft with my well-greased thumb and slid it firmly, as far as it would go, right into Beryl's bottom just as Jane got the big nozzle clear. I slid my arm under Beryl's tummy and helped her stand, then lower herself onto the waiting barrel. Finally, when I was sure that Beryl was sitting properly in place, I slid my thumb out from Beryl's bottom to let the flood of warm sudsy water come rushing out into the barrel under her. I left Beryl a long time to sit and drain herself, and I saw that from the barrel she could look out of the window and over Richmond Park again. The deer had gone and there were horse-drawn coaches and light phaetons speeding along the roads that criss-crossed the park land - there was something new to see every minute . . . Soon though I came and rubbed her tummy and more water came out. A little later, I said: "Good! I'll dry your bottom with this cloth, Beryl. Now I want you back up, bending over the table for a clean-water rinse! "Jane, float this cup of perfumed oil onto the tub - The odour will be sweeter!" Jane had already cleaned the clyster cylinder by using the plunger to pump water in and out, and she now had it filled with a full gallon of clear warm water . . Greasing the big smooth ivory nozzle, I slid it firmly into Beryl's waiting bottom and began to push the plunger into the barrel of the clyster cylinder. Just as before, when the plunger was about half way into the barrel, I stopped and reached under Beryl to rub her tummy. Then I pulled the plunger a long way out, slowly, before thrusting it quickly back in further than it had been before. I continued with this out-and-in movement of the plunger, to make the warm water come slowly out of Beryl, then - swoosh - quickly in again to clean out anything left in there of the soapy mixture. The rush and flow of water in and out of Beryl's bottom was making her more and more excited and she began to moan and wriggle . . . "Stop your nonsense this minute and stay completely still, Beryl. "Jane! Just stay exactly where you are with the clyster in your hand! We'll give Beryl some time to calm down". After a few minutes, I returned and told Jane and Beryl to go through the drill exactly as before . . . and Beryl sat on the tub again with my thumb completely buried up to its hilt in her bottom, then I pulled it quickly out so she emptied the water from herself . . . I gave Beryl a further full gallon clyster of warm clear water, pumping the water out and in again to ensure it washed out any soapy mixture. "Now . . we are ready for Doctor Abercrombie! I will fetch him". |