The Less Admirable Crichton
Copyright© 2026 by HAL
Chapter 8
Humor Sex Story: Chapter 8 - The Admirable Crichton is a play by the same man who wrote Peter Pan. It concerns a butler who is admirable in every respect, including survival when the family he works for are shipwrecked. He does take one of the daughters as a mate (at least in the film – 1957, Kenneth More), but that is all skated over. This is a slightly different version.
Caution: This Humor Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft AI Generated
Later it became quietly clear that only Agatha was producing periods. All opted not to ask further questions so that any future offspring would be assumed to be the offspring of the official fathers.
Aside from passing three of the women back, things did not change. Crichton still maintained the top spot, allocating jobs and tasks, still doing most of the hunting and fishing. Woolley had started to show promise in fishing with a homemade trident, Treherne was harvesting coconuts; and Mary was getting better with a crude slingshot.
The first night had been an education for all three men. They had emerged in the morning looking tired and very content. Treherne had weighed up whether non-vaginal sexual satisfaction was consistent with the Church of England’s teaching on the purpose of marriage. Since he was weighing that up whilst Catherine was sliding up and down his erection with her mouth, he found there were good reasons to accept it. He had enjoyed seeing her naked. She had dropped her clothes, raised her arms and rotated. His solid rod was clear. Catherine estimated it was the same length as Crichton, but perhaps not the same girth. That was an education for her, that men could be different. John had then been surprised to be invited to kneel between her legs. “Now taste me. Yes, go on. No, more robustly John. I will not break.”
“It is like a flower, it is lovely. May I taste again?”
“Of course, this flower is yours, lick it as much and as deeply as you want.” John Treherne was not entirely new to sex; he had engaged with actresses and other women of low morals a few times whilst training at University. However those engagements had all been purely missionary position; he had grasped small opportunities to see these women’s genitalia but they did not encourage it. They felt that sex was the result of getting dinner (or sometimes having to pay an agreed fee). His newly acquired partner was standing naked in front of his kneeling figure holding his head close to that delightful valleys and folds. He licked again. He would also be taken back to this event whenever he used her body in later years. The very hint of the flavour of her vagina would give him an erection – which was occasionally embarrassing if her was eating a cream cheese sandwich with the ladies of the church. “Yes, keep doing that John. Oh that is lovely! Don’t stop!” He manfully kept his tongue deep inside her despite it starting to hurt – it was not used to this usage. He was shocked, even worried, when she nearly collapsed. His hands held her up and her hands held his head against her flower. She moaned with pleasure. When she had finished, she let his face go. “Thank you, thank you. That was lovely. We can consummate our marriage soon, but can I suggest I suck your member first. You will come very quickly I know. The second time, inside me, will take you longer and give you more (and me) pleasure.”
“It seems I am in your hands my dear. You are a revelation.”
Later, after he had indeed come quite quckly and was on the point of apologising for filling her mouth with his spend (she sensed that he was not ready to kiss her and share that spend), as they lay in other’s arms recovering, he mused that perhaps he had much to thank Crichton for. Although it was true that the man had taken this woman’s virginity, he had taught her things that he would never have thought of. He realised that just as he had learned from his past assignations (which he promised would never be repeated – her reply was ‘we’ll have to see, won’t we? Perhaps there will be some lonely housewife in your congregation who would welcome some affection’), so she had also learned of things that he would never have imagined. He would have to ask Crichton where he had learned of such things.
A new hut was built to accommodate Catherine and John on the same beach. “But perhaps a little further away, for privacy’s sake?” John suggested. Yes, just so.
...
Ernest Algernon McTavish Woolley was having more problems. Mary was entirely willing and had boldly presented herself to him saying he could start wherever he liked. The problem was, now it came to it, he wasn’t sure.
Catherine would have been abrupt and to the point, but Mary detected some deep issue that needed to be addressed. They spent their ‘wedding’ day and night talking.
“Well. I can’t believe I am telling you such base things, but on this island and with you I feel I can.”
“No secrets Ernest; it can’t be as bad as having McTavish as a middle name, I never knew.” She laughed, he smiled.
“The problem stems from school. At E- [we should not name the school for legal reasons] it was common for the fags to be buggered when they were new boys, and to bugger the new boys when they became seniors. It was expected. I didn’t want to stand out. Chalmers Junior refused the advances of his prefect and was ostracised for all the rest of the years he was there. Chambers Minor on the other hand was buggered (forgive the language my love) by his elder brother and did the same to his cousin when he started. I wanted to fit in, to follow society’s rules. So I did the same. I ... well I allowed my backside to be used by Priestly when I was small. It hurt. And when I reached senior school, I did the same to young Sniffler (that was his real name). He cried and I said ‘Sniffler by name, Sniffler by nature’. I was not kind to him. Some boys enjoyed the cameraderie with the older boys of being shafted by them. I didn’t. Many of the older boys thoroughly enjoyed buggering some small tight bum; but although I pretended, I never did enjoy it. It was horrible. The odd thing about the school was we were regularly given lectures about the sin of Onan – masturbation you see?” Mary did see, she had heard of Onanism when she was eleven and looked it up. “They would thrash anybody caught at it. I mean really thrash them. But buggering some poor young lad was regarded almost as a school tradition.”
“My poor dear Ernest. I do understand. When Crichton first wanted to have me in that way I was shocked and horrified, but honestly if done well it isn’t unpleasant at all. In any case there are other things we can start with. I can help, I hope I can help. I want a proper married life and will do whatever is needed to make you content with this. Should I stroke you? Or suck you? Or you and slide between my thighs and roger me gently.”
“We had one teacher who would always insist on abdominal massage if we were hit by a cricket ball. I’m afraid that experience also causes nightmares. If the boy enjoyed it, the master would suggest they reciprocate on him.”
“What an awful school!”
“Oh no, happiest time of my life.” Woolley intoned the words his head teachers had told them all they would feel in later life. “Actually no, this is the happiest time of my life. Am I a failure? To find living on this island with no responsibilties so pleasurable?”
“Not at all. Well, undress. Let me see the person I have won in the lottery of life.”
“Lottery of Life? That’s rather good, you should write it down.”
“Perhaps I shall write books when I get home. Page turning adventures for boys, you think?”
“No.”
“No? Well, as you command my love.”
“No, I mean not for boys – why not ‘Sisters Adrift’ or ‘Girls’ School Shipwreck’?”
“What a clever idea! Adventures for girls! Yes, yes, I shall.” Her pen name ‘Ariadne Scarlet’ is of course known to many, especially mothers and aunts wanting to give their charges more adventure than how to cook a souffle or sew a sampler. Ariadne Scarlet earns more than her husband, and her husband spends much time designing and redesigning their garden. The roles suit them both. “Now, trust me. I shall use my mouth to kiss every part of you body. Then you can do the same for me. No intrusion until you are ready.”
They did not surface the next day until midday. Normally such dilatory behaviour would have been frowned up by the king (or president, or prime minister, depending upon your views – their leader anyway), but he was willing to be flexible at the start of the new regime. When they did emerge, it was clear that at least some of the difficulties had been overcome. He looked sated and satisfied and laughed when she called him a sated, satisfied satyr.
In Elspeth’s hut. Lord Loam was explaining how he had missed his wife’s body. “Well, Loamy, you didn’t miss much of it because you haven’t seen much of it.”
“What do you mean? Oh, I say!” Elspeth had removed her upper clothing to reveal her (in comparison to the younger women) magnificent breasts. “I ... I didn’t realise. My first wife, you know, she never liked to be seen. It wasn’t the done thing, she said on our honeymoon.”
“Just so, my dear. I would have thought, I did think, the same. Sex – don’t looked surprised, women can say words like that without swooning; sex was something to be done in the dark under the bedclothes. Whatever else you think of our butler – if he is still the butler – he has taught me to relish my body. It will not always be such an enviable shape; it will droop and wobble as it gets older. No, it will! We are fortunate, these last few months had done two things for us: they -”
“Yes, my love, do we need to cover that?”
“I was going to say it has taught me to be more self sufficient. I can de-feather a bird as well as any cook. I can gut a fish! I can even skin a turtle, though I am not proficient at it. I can make bread from scratch; picking grasses, removing the husks, pounding the seed, mixing the flour and ... oh do you know? We have found a berry that has natural yeasts on the surface! The berry itself causes you to evacuate your bowels with great efficiency – Crichton had us all do that before ... no you are right, we do not need to discuss that. Anyway, the skins can be used to make the dough rise overnight. Oh it is such fun experimenting.” She hesitated, realising that it was fun to experiment in bed too, no she would leave that unsaid for the present. “So there is that, but also this harder way of life has rolled the excess from us all. Look at you! You have lost at least two stone, perhaps more! You are firm of stomach where you were a little flabby my dear. We must endeavour to maintain these figures. I am sure it will help and be more healthy.”
“Help? Help at what, ohhh help at that?” She had undone his shorts and was stroking his flaccid penis back to an erection. “Well, what would also help then would be to see you as nature intended. I often wished it but thought you would not approve.”
“No sooner said than done.” She dropped her skirt, took his hand and placed it on her full set of curly hair at the apex of her legs.
He sighed “That is lovely. Yes, there is much I need to learn, but I have missed this body. Might we follow the standard position first. Unless you prefer some other position.”
“There are lots of positions to try, but yes, I would welcome being assailed by my lord and master in just that way first.” She turned on a simpering voice “Be gentle sir, I am only a weak and feeble woman and you are too big for me.”
It was music to his ears. In fact he was a good inch shorter than the Crichton dong, but he did not need to know that. It was true, she enjoyed having her husband once more on top of her and she enjoyed hearing him achieve orgasmic explosion long before she was ready. They would work on that. For now, it was good to know that they had crossed a rubicon. No longer once every two weeks. Perhaps not even only once a night. That evening he managed twice, and she taught him to bring her to climax three times (actually only twice in reality, but when he started on her again with his fingers, she felt she should encourage him by faking it). He loved it. He loved hearing his wife enjoy his attentions.
Within a month, none of the women was having a period. This was a cause for concern; would there be enough food (yes, they decided there would), what if there were difficulties? That was in the hands of God, Treherne said. “God seems to let a lot get into difficulties.” Catherine said.
That Agatha and Eliza were both expecting Crichton’s children raised some issues. Eliza solved this by saying that Crichton should marry Agatha. “Being common, people expect no better of me. But Agatha should have a proper husband even if it is only the butler.” Everyone argued and disagreed, but when it came to it, she was right. To be accepted in society, Agatha’s child needed a proper father. Lord Loam said that if Crichton married Agatha he could no longer be the butler. He could manage the estate as well as he managed the island.
Crichton: “Do I, as the ruler of the island, have no say in this?”
Four women all said “No.” together, and laughed. “The men rule the island, we rule the proprieties.” Elspeth added.
A somethat longer ceremony was followed for Agatha and Crichton. Treherne could not remember all the Church of England wording, Elspeth reminded him of some, but it still missed parts out. He deliberately missed out the part of forsaking all others. “I would not have you exclude Eliza. You must continue to treat them both the same.” The two younger castaways looked at each and both agreed that they would expect all three combinations of two person relations, and also three in the bed too.
“Harrumph! I hardly think we need to hear the details.” Lord Loam said. His wife whispered something, whatever it was he went red, nodded and stayed silent after that.