Victorian Anal Sex

There’s a tale called The Sultan’s Reverie in the December 1880 edition of The Pearl. It’s a brutal little thing, involving a bored sultan who decides to have some fun with a woman he inherited with his harem, who formerly intrigued against him. But I found this enthusiastic paragraph of Victorian anal worth reproducing here:

His excitement is now at its highest. He throws himself upon her, exclaiming: “Holy Prophet, Holy Prophet, that puts me in mind of your bottom-hole!” Throwing her legs over his shoulders, he first plunges his bursting instrument into her cunny, well to lubricate it, then presents the head to her dark brown fundus; he thrusts furiously and soon gains a partial insertion. “Oh! Oh! You’ll split me!” she screams; “not there, not there, I never would allow the Sultan to do that. Oh, oh! Never. What shame! What filthiness!” she sighs as he pushes on and on, to complete possession, and he rests a little after his exertions, but the nervous nippings and contractions of the fundamental canal are too exciting. He spends a stream of his essence into her bowels which she involuntary meets with a slight heave of her bottom. Both of them exhausted, they remain quite still for some few minutes, affording him infinite pleasure, as he causes his dilated instrument to respond to the contracting pulsations of her anus.

“Are you finished now, you wanton?” withdrawing from her body with a noise something like the drawing of a cork, so tightly is the muscle of her bottom contracted around his still inflamed affair. “Ah, ha! how tightly you hold! Haven’t you had enough?”

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