Produced by Daniel Fromont
[Transcriber's note: Anonymous, The power of mesmerism (1891),1891 edition. A classic Victorian erotic novel]
THE POWER OF MESMERISM
A HIGHLY EROTIC NARRATIVE OF VOLUPTUOUS FACTS AND FANCIES.
PRINTED FOR THE NIHISLISTS. MOSCOW 1891
Brackley Hall was a fine old place in the lovely country of Devon andhad been in the possession of the Etheridges for centuries.
The park was beautifully wooded, and stretched down on one side to thecoast, commanding in all directions the most enchanting views.
Mr. Etheridge was a man of some forty years of age, of singularlyhandsome appearance, and bore evident traces of the Italian blood whichflowed in his veins. He had the appearance of a man having strongamorous passions, but his manners were as gentle as those of a woman,and he was universally popular throughout the whole county.
His wife was a woman of unusual beauty. Descended from an old Spanishfamily, she had married when but sixteen years of age; Mr. Etheridgehaving met her at the house of some friends, and as they mutually fellin love with each other, their united entreaties overcame the objectionraised on account of her youth, and in fact the warm blood that flowedin her veins had ripened her beauty to an extent almost unusual inthose of more phlegmatic races.
She was now in her thirty-fifth year, and in the full zenith of hercharms. An exquisitely shaped head graced a neck and shoulders white asalabaster, large liquid eyes, and long drooping lashes, a nose ofperfect form, and two ruby pouting lips that seemed made to be kissed.
Her form was magnificent, of commanding height, widely spreading hips,and a bosom of massive proportions, the firmness of which renderedstays entirely unnecessary; a fact that was evident on watching therise and fall of those two lovely globes, their form being perfectlydefined even to the nipples, beneath her well-fitting dress.
Her glance was electric, and it was impossible to meet her lookunmoved, she exhaled an atmosphere of voluptuousness of the mostmaddening force.
Her daughter Ethel, who had left school in Paris but a few months, wasthe very counterpart of her lovely mother in her leading features. Shehad just completed her seventeenth year, and was of tall, gracefulstature, with a perfect figure. The smallness of her waist contrastedperfectly with the ravishing fullness of bosom and wideness of hips.She had the liquid eyes of her mother, but they were suffused with ahumidity that was perfectly maddening, and the expression of everyfeature of her lovely face and palpitating form spoke of a warmth oftemperament and lascivious abandon that would have tempted an anchorite.
On a bright summer afternoon, in the year 18—, father, mother, anddaughter were waiting at the railway station, anxiously expecting thearrival of the remaining member of the family, Frank, who, a year olderthan Ethel, had been finishing his education in Germany, and was nowreturning to take up his residence at Brackley.
At last the train arrived, and they hardly recognised the handsome,tall, and fine-looking young fellow who leaped out to greet them.
A few hours after reaching the house the parents noted a peculiarchange that had taken place in their son. A dreamy languor seemed tohave taken possession of him, in place of the exuberant flow of animalspirits that characterised him as a boy. He had a strange habit oflooking as though he were endeavourin