Aunt Phoebe's Masturbatorium Ch. 01

There is another world that exists beyond the so-called "civilized" society we all take for granted. This world is no less tangible than its more mundane counterpart, yet most people are completely unaware of its existence. In what follows, I will attempt to recount the history of my journey into the bowels of the Masturbatorium. I do this for the sake of my daughter, who is now old enough to learn about the Sisterhood and its beginnings. Like Virgil, who guided Dante on his sojourn into the Inferno, I hope I shall prove a competent guide to my own child, as she reads about my sexual adventures in the unseen world of the Sisterhood and, in so doing, may be enlightened. –Excerpt from the diary of Holly McKenzie, Supreme Sisterhood Leader, Paris, France

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My first exposure to a real, live penis came when I was eighteen years old and it happened entirely by accident. I was spending several weeks of my summer vacation with my cousin Angelique and her mother, my aunt Phoebe, at their seaside estate in San Diego. Phoebe, who at nineteen had taken a trip to Paris with some girlfriends the month before she was to start college, met and fell in love with a rich, French nobleman named Pierre Anjou. It was a whirlwind romance and she was married about one month later.

My mother, who was a few years older than Phoebe, and very conservative and proper, thought the entire wedding business was a tragic case of poor judgment on Phoebe's part, as Pierre was almost ten years her senior. Despite my mother's protestations, Phoebe followed her heart and was soon welcomed into the magnificent rich man's castle situated on the northern outskirts of Paris. In the years to come, my father, mother, and I would make a trip to France every other year to visit. The in between years would see Phoebe and Pierre come to San Diego to reciprocate. In the summer of the second year of their marriage, their one and only child, Angelique, was born, a few months before I, myself, took my first precarious view of the outside world.

During these welcome vacation periods, my aunt would throw pool parties and banquets for friends and family that constituted what was to me, a never-ending indulgence for all things sensual. Pierre's rich and powerful friends included politicians, celebrities, rock stars, writers, artists, and anyone who was anyone in the fields of entertainment and business. Phoebe befriended many of these people over the course of time and most of them became some of her closest companions. Many of the women, especially, took a strong liking to her commanding, yet likeable presence, and it was not wasted upon me that, upon many occasions, Phoebe would be the center of attention among a particular group of women who seemed desirous of her patronage. I had no idea what they were discussing, but I later learned that these seemingly casual conversations were merely a cover-up for more interesting tales that focused upon the issues of how to control a man and how to manipulate them for one's own pleasure.

During one particularly hot, July afternoon, Angelique and I, along with two of her friends, Brittany and Megan, both of whom were eighteen years old, were happily splashing about in my aunt's Olympic-sized pool as one of my aunt's parties was in full swing. Amidst all this innocent fun taking place, the four of us couldn't help but notice one particular black boy who was called "Jimmy" by most people, but who was better known to us and the pop world as Delvin, a twenty-year-old heart throb who was the lead singer in a famous boy's vocal group and who had just had a number one hit on the R&B Top 10.

We had fallen in love with him at first sight. Delvin was tall and handsome with long, wavy brown hair that constantly fell into his sexy brown eyes. When I first laid eyes on him, he was sunning himself on a chaise lounge while Angelique and I were getting ready to dive into the pool. He had nothing on except a very skimpy purple bathing suit and was reading a magazine as he sipped some lemonade. To say that we were enamored of him would be an understatement. All of us tried our very best to get his attention any way we could, and he would often smile at us while he casually regarded, what must have been to him, our totally juvenile antics.

During this particular visit, Pierre had decided to remain in Paris on business, which left Phoebe free to run things completely on her own. This had been welcome news for my cousin, who had always been shown far more latitude by her mother than her father.

Angelique was the oldest of our group and very precocious. She was almost a head taller than the rest of us and her legs were very shapely and long. Like my aunt, she was very stunning, with long, straight blonde hair that fell to her waist and huge blue eyes that had an unusual hypnotic effect upon you if you stared at them too long. She had always been very curious about sex and the time we spent together invariably involved long discussions about boys and other sexual vagaries. Her physical beauty gave her power over men, so she told me, and one day I would learn how to use my own beauty to my own advantage.

To exemplify this attitude by way of example, my cousin did not waste any time in flaunting her lovely bikini-clad body in front of Delvin. I noticed him look at her several times when he thought no one else was watching, and I saw a look of desire in his eyes that belied his seeming disinterest. My suspicions were confirmed when she decided to quit the pool and move toward the lounge chair next to his, lifting her long legs onto the side of the chair as she methodically began to dry herself off.

Angelique was too preoccupied with getting herself dry to be aware of it, but I noticed that there was a big bulge in his bathing trunks as he stared at her. I saw his hand move toward his genitals in one, quick motion before returning to his side, but it was done so quickly that no one but myself noticed it. And then for one brief instant I saw it: the head of his penis peeking through the fabric of his bathing suit as he slowly, cautiously, raised his legs to a more accommodating position. He then placed a towel around his waist to hide his erection from view. I didn't think anymore about it until later that same night. To my surprise, it was Angelique who brought up the subject.

The four of us were watching TV in the recreation room in the remote east wing of the house, far removed from anyone's prying eyes and ears, when my cousin broached the subject of our combined interest.

"I know who saw Delvin's dick!" she exclaimed suddenly, looking directly at me.

"Did you?" Megan asked me with surprise.

"Of course she did," Angelique replied. "I saw it too. It was really big."

Megan looked at me with a huge grin on her face. Her luminous brown eyes peeking out from behind a healthy shock of short, chocolate-brown hair. "What did you see Holly?"

"She saw his schlong, so what?" Brittany replied casually. She winced as she put some moisturizing lotion on her pale white skin, anxious to avoid the pain of a sun burn. She was a very pretty girl with shoulder-length red hair and hazel eyes. The sun had brought out the freckles on her face and she now stared at them with dismay as she raised a mirror to her face. "I hate these things!"

"I thought I was the only one who saw it," I said.

"Wrong," Angelique corrected me. "I saw you staring at him while I was drying off and that look on your face was so unbelievable. Like, hey man, what the fuck is this? I had to look."

She threw her head back and laughed and Megan and Brittany soon joined in.

"I've never seen a boy with a hard-on before," I said through their laughter, which caused Angelique to tease me even more.

"Oh, my God, you are so out of it!" my worldly-wise cousin commented. "You've gone out on dates haven't you? It happens to all boys when they get excited."

"You didn't let me finish," I said defensively. "I know boys get hard-ons, but I never saw it just hanging out like that is what I mean."

Megan looked at me inquisitively. "What do you do on a date anyway?"

"She probably reads boys love poems," Brittany offered as she rubbed more lotion onto her hands.

"No, I don't," I said, annoyed. "The guys I go out with are pretty cool. They just don't try stuff with me. I don't know. I think they're afraid to."

"You know why they're afraid?" Angelique returned. "Because you're an ice queen. You're so fussy about everything that a boy can't even put his arms around you without you freaking out."

"That's not true!"

"Yes, it is. Megan and Brittany are younger than you and they have boyfriends."

"Yeah, but Billy isn't as good-looking as Delvin though!" Megan blurted out.

"Neither is Steve, but he's good at certain things!" Brittany added.

All of them laughed except me. I went from face to face, trying to discern the reason for their amusement, which caused them to laugh at me in turn.

"She doesn't know what the fuck we're taking about!" Angelique said to the other girls.

"It's okay Holly," Brittany said in a consoling tone, "we'll give you some lessons."

"Lessons in what?"

My query prompted even more laughter from the jittery girls. I just sat there with the remote control in my hands, switching channels and wishing I could somehow will my body into the TV to escape the torment.

By their standards I qualified as a prude, but the truth was that I was just an awkward and shy teenager who had been reared in a somewhat sexually repressive household. And I was yet to obtain the sexual confidence these girls seemed to take for granted. In a few moments their laughter subsided and Angelique moved beside me.

"You know, you and I look a lot alike," she said, staring into my face. "The only difference is that you have chestnut-brown hair and green eyes. And your nose is smaller than mine."

"So what?" I said.

"So, we're both pretty."

"And so am I," Brittany said pointedly.

"All of us are beautiful," Megan affirmed.

Angelique continued to look me over. "In fact, I would say that you are probably the best looking one among us."

To this comment the other two girls raised serious objections, but Angelique would hear none of it.

"No, no," she said sternly. "Let's be honest, all right? Holly's got the most beautiful face among the four of us. But she doesn't know how to use her looks to her advantage. We're going to have to fix that."

At that point my aunt entered the room and invited the four of us onto the patio for a sumptuous garden dinner. I wondered what Angelique meant by her last comment, but I was too hungry to give it much thought.

When the four of us arrived at the dinner table, we found Delvin sitting with a very attractive Spanish girl who was, herself, an up and coming pop singer we had seen on a recent music video. Her name was Maria Rodriguez, and she was a very stunning girl with large brown eyes shaped like almonds. Her long, auburn hair fell loosely about her shoulders and she spoke in low, soft tones punctuated by outbursts of laughter whenever Delvin attempted to make a joke. As we sat down at the table she gave the four of us suspicious-looking glances, as though she expected her prize to be stolen at any moment from under her very nose.

The picnic tables were arranged end to end across the length of the patio, forming one long banquet table that managed to accommodate about eighty people. My aunt sat at the head of the table on the end adjacent to the sliding doors that opened into the kitchen, presumably to make it easier for her to order and direct the servants as they waited upon us. Although many of the people sitting at the table were among the ranks of the rich and famous, I had, by this time, become accustomed to celebrity and was not in the least intimidated by it. In fact, I found it highly entertaining that many of these so-called "artistes" often deferred to my aunt in matters concerning personal issues, and even tried to emulate her behavior on occasion. Angelique shared my disdain for some of the more affected among them, often referring to anyone who patronized her mother as "sucker-ups" or "wanna-be's".

In due time dinner was served, and for a short while the multitude fell silent as everyone focused his or her attention upon devouring the savory feast of roast lamb and lemon potatoes. My aunt surveyed the motley brood of diners like a mother hen supervising her flock. To her immediate right and left were two of her close friends and business associates, Justine and Estelle. Both women were slightly older than my aunt and both were very attractive brunettes who managed my aunt's affairs from their office in Los Angeles. Maria and Delvin sat a few seats further down from these women and Angelique, Brittany, Megan, and I sat directly across from Delvin. I paid little attention to what was going on further down the table, preferring to focus my attention on my aunt and Delvin. My aunt had waited until I placed a forkful of roast lamb into my mouth before deciding to embark on a series of questions.

"So, Holly," she began, "I spoke to your mother a little while ago and she tells me that she and your father will be arriving here in two weeks. That gives you a whole fourteen days to screw around and then you'll have to be on your best behavior again."

My aunt laughed in that light-mannered way of hers, her lips slightly upturned into a smile. She had briefly stopped over at our house when she had first arrived in Los Angeles, and plans had been made that I would spend the first two weeks with my aunt with my mother and father joining us during the second two weeks of my vacation. My aunt, a far more liberated soul than my mother, allowed me free reign over my own affairs and encouraged me to live life to its fullest degree and to take pride in my womanhood. She knew that my mother would not approve of some of her novel ideas concerning the proper rearing up of children, but it did not prevent her from encouraging me to experience life in all its manifestations. To my aunt Phoebe, life was a banquet—to be savored and enjoyed every moment of the day. A true hedonist, yet a woman of uncompromising principle, she was the model for all that I would strive to become on my own journey through this maze we call life.

"I'm not screwing around aunt Phoebe," I said, taking several seconds to reply as I gulped down a portion of my food.

"Well, you should be!" she said laughing. "What the hell are we here for anyway? Right everybody?"

Even the people at the far end of the table, who could not have possibly heard a word she said, nodded in agreement once they noticed the rest of us raise a roar of approval.

"You listen to your aunt, little girl," said a middle-aged man several seats down from me who had won an Oscar the previous year for best director. "The unexplored life ain't worth livin'."

"That's 'unexamined life'," my aunt said, correcting him. "Attributed to Socrates, I believe."

"You got that right mom," Angelique said without looking up from her plate.

My aunt stared at her daughter for a moment and then burst out laughing.

"Do you see my reflection in that dish? I'm over here for heaven's sake. When you speak to someone, look at them!"

"She's too busy stuffing her face!" I blurted out.

Angelique did indeed look ridiculous with her mouth stuffed full of food. She was by far anorexic, but she did tend to go on eating binges now and then with periods where her food intake was practically nonexistent. As she looked at her mother, the two of them started to laugh hysterically, and soon everyone else joined in.

During the course of the evening, Maria managed to let everyone know that she was officially dating Delvin, and she accentuated that statement by showing everyone a bracelet he had recently given her to commemorate their union. Maria took great pride in showing off the diamond and emerald trinket to those few people nearest to the couple, delighting in the exclamations of wonder as several people got out of their chairs to take a closer look at the shimmering jewelry. Delvin seemed to take all of this in stride, but I could sense that he was a bit annoyed that she had chosen to make such a big deal out of something he seemed to consider an unofficial engagement. I watched his dark eyes flash with a slight tinge of repressed anger as she waved the expensive toy in the faces of those around him. At one point he looked at me and smiled and I felt a wave of sudden, irrepressible warmth course through my body as if someone had given me a shot of brandy on a cold night. It was then that I wished I had been in Maria's place, and that it was me, and not her, who was the recipient of his loving attentions.

"Okay," he said to Maria, "it's time to put the toys away."

She looked hurt as she withdrew her hand towards her chest but she said nothing. Her other hand dropped down out of sight.

At that same moment, Angelique's fork fell onto the floor. As she bent down to pick it up, I heard her snicker.

Megan and Brittany were the first to get the news; then it filtered down to me. Brittany, who was sitting directly to my left, whispered excitedly into my ear.

"Maria's giving Delvin a handjob!"

Angelique stared at me with eyes wide open, wearing a silly grin on her face. She quickly shook her head up and down as she saw the questioning look on my face.

I watched Maria's left arm, and it did indeed seem a little busy doing something. Delvin, too, looked a bit preoccupied, as if he were trying to focus upon maintaining his composure under difficult circumstances. At last, he gently grabbed her by the arm and moved it away. She went back to eating as if nothing had happened.

After dinner had ended, both Delvin and Maria entertained the group by singing some of their recent hit songs for everyone's enjoyment. The party continued for several more hours and I had a chance to meet and talk with quite a few interesting individuals, one of which was a beautiful, middle-aged French woman named Lenore who had recently befriended my aunt and who had accompanied her on the trip from Paris.

Lenore Marceau was somewhat of an enigma to me. My aunt had never mentioned her background to anyone and no one asked. She was a small woman, standing about 5' 3" in height, and was possessed of a commanding presence that belied her small physical stature. She had very penetrating blue eyes that seemed to peer into your very soul, and long, brown hair streaked with gray that gave her a somewhat austere appearance. I had seen her earlier that day by the pool, offering my aunt advice on how to control and manipulate men. As naive as I was about sex and the power struggles that occur between men and women, something in her voice and mannerisms told me that she would have no trouble controlling any man she wanted.

"A woman holds great power over a man," she said to me with a gracious smile. "And a woman who knows how to use that power can have anything she wants."

Before going to bed she kissed me lightly on the cheek and told me that I was a "very dear child." She also predicted that she and I would meet again sometime in the near future. Exactly when and under what circumstances she would not divulge.

After saying her goodbyes to several people, she and my aunt walked out together into the kitchen arm in arm, laughing. At one point my aunt turned and looked at me and nodded her head in silent agreement in response to something Lenore had said. During the days that followed I would learn a lot more about this intriguing woman, but it would be another year before I would again have the pleasure of her intimate company.

My aunt had arranged it so that the recreation room was converted into a makeshift bedroom containing four twin beds to accommodate my three companions and myself. Angelique had wanted it this way, and I was to soon learn why she had made this unusual request.