Thongs

by Alexander Trocchi

  Miguel came.

  I had been wagging my little tail and a sailor was standing on a chair with his cock out and I was pretending to be begging for it as a dog does, and at that moment I saw Miguel standing in the doorway. I froze at once and stared at him. He simply nodded for me to follow him and I did. I walked right out of my wonderful life at the brothel into a carriage which took me to a country estate. There Miguel chained me naked to a wall and beat me within an inch of death.

  -4-

  When I finally came to consciousness the next day, I was in bed. He must have been sitting, waiting. He was, as usual, impeccably dressed and he looked very severe.

  He spoke at once when he knew I was awake.

  "You are no longer a virgin."

  "No."

  "You are simply a prostitute."

  "Yes."

  "A sailor's whore."

  "Yes."

  "A cunt!"

  "Yes."

  "And what do you expect me to do now?"

  "Send me back to the brothel," I said in a tired voice. "I was happy there."

  "You were happy. Have you forgotten Pain?"

  "No. I didn't intend it to happen. First I was raped. I liked it. Then it didn't matter. What else could I do?"

  "You should have come back at once before you were seen by Prince B."

  "What difference does it make?"

  "It makes a great deal of difference."

  I shook my head without comprehension.

  "Do you not understand," he said, leaning forward and speaking in an intense voice, "that I will allow nothing, nothing, to stand in the way of your crucifixion?"

  I shook my head hopelessly.

  "I am no longer a virgin, Miguel."

  "But if only you and I knew it? That is why Prince B. should never have known!"

  "Does it make no difference to you?"

  "Not a whit!"

  "But why? How could I become the Virgin Death?"

  "I told you once, my dear, that you were too pure for us, the worldly people. I am interested in the Order in the world. Last night, in secret conclave, I was elected. I became Pain. Nothing now stands in the way of the crucifixion. Nothing, that is, except your stupidity."

  "We waited too long, Miguel. You should have crucified me years ago."

  "That was not possible before I became Pain."

  "Why not? Are you the only one in the Order who wishes a Virgin Death?"

  "Not at all, my dear. But from the beginning I decided that I, and I alone, would drink of it. And it is the privilege of Pain, of no other."

  "And that's why you kept me waiting?" I smiled at him. "I would have liked you to be the one to drink, Miguel." I closed my eyes. "So I was right. The Order is corrupt from top to bottom."

  "Corrupt? What is that? Everything is relative, my beloved Carmen, except death. Death alone is absolute and that is why you, the purest of us, lust after it."

  "Someone else said that – that everything was relative. Do you remember Harry Prentice?"

  "The man was no diplomat. He lost you."

  "And you are, and you didn't?"

  "That is correct. But for this one slip, this foolishness of letting Prince B. know that you had become a sailor's whore, everything would have been straightforward."

  "What about the sailors, the dwarf, the other whores? They saw me fucked, too."

  "They are not important. They had no idea who you were. For them you were simply an amusing lady who had become a nymphomaniac. It is Carmencita de las Lunas who matters, and everyone knows that she has never known a man. Why do you think you are the most famous courtesan in Madrid? Simply because you are unobtainable."

  "Prince B. knows."

  "Yes, Prince B., knows, but of course he has told no one, not even his closest acquaintances. You, he, and I possess the secret. You will die without revealing it on the cross. I will be Pain magnified by the last passion of the Virgin. As for B., I first thought of killing him. I am very sorry I did not aim to kill in the duel. But at the time there was no necessity for it. It was a stupid affair of honor. But to murder him or even to challenge him to a second duel would be dangerous. He is an important man, and in a duel he might well betray our secret in his last words. I could not be sure of killing him outright at twenty paces. And anyway, we have both been warned. Dueling is not popular with the Court. No, that is why I have evolved a better idea..."

  "What is that?"

  "We have a great advantage. B. is madly in love with you. Thus he is capable of being bribed."

  "How!"

  "With you, little Carmen."

  He got up and stood by the fireplace in his usual posture. He looked across at me, his eyes flickering.

  "I intend to make Prince B. a proposal," he said. "I will offer him you as a doting mistress, to do with as he will, until the light of the full moon in February, at which time he must surrender you to me and to your sacrifice. In return for those idyllic weeks, I will pledge him to eternal silence. He will agree because he loves you and is very near to suicide, and he will keep his word as a gentleman. So you see, little Carmen, all is not lost!"

  -5-

  Two days later, in the early afternoon, Miguel returned.

  "He is coming at four. This estate will be the place of your honeymoon. On no account must you leave it. You will be for him what he wishes you to be, gentle as a dove, vicious as a reptile, sensual as a geisha. You will obey him in everything within the boundaries of the estate until seven p.m. on the night of the full moon. I shall come personally to fetch you."

  He looked at his watch.

  "It is two o'clock," he said. "In a few minutes a number of gentlemen are coming in to see you. For them you are Carmencita, the Virgin. You must not speak of the prince, nor of your experience in the brothel."

  I nodded.

  I was dressed in scarlet silk which flowed to the floor like fiery liquid below my naked breasts. My nipples as usual were tinted black and my eyes elongated in a slant with mascara.

  You are very beautiful, Carmencita!"

  He rang a bell and waited by the fireplace. I lay at length on a lemon colored divan.

  A moment later there was a discreet knock on the door.

  "Come in!"

  Five gentlemen of varying ages entered the room. They bowed solemnly first to Miguel and then turned towards me. I rose off my divan to meet them. In turn, bowing low, they kissed my hand. They were all between forty and sixty and I could see they all found it difficult to keep their eyes off my breasts.

  "Well, gentlemen?" Miguel said from the fireplace. "I think no one can accuse me of exaggerating, eh?"

  The gentlemen nodded gravely. The eldest of them, a man with white hair and a small Van Dyck beard said: "May I question our Lady?"

  Miguel nodded.

  "Of course, gentlemen. She is at your disposal."

  "Are you a virgin?" the man with the white beard asked.

  "Yes," I said, and as I spoke, it occurred to me that I could have chosen not to and in choosing to say it, I had signed my death-warrant.

  "You are certain you have never been penetrated in the normal way by a male penis?"

  "I am certain, sir."

  "And you know what our Order plans for you?"

  "I know."

  "And you accept?"

  "I demand!" I replied. I noticed a fleeting smile on Miguel's face.

  The old gentleman was slightly put out. He hummed and hawed. But finally he said he had no more questions.

  "And you, gentlemen?" said Miguel to the others.

  "No questions," the others said.

  "Very well," Miguel said. "It is my intention now that she should remain here on this estate until the night. She will not be allowed to leave and she will practice meditation in preparation for her great trial. During this time she will not be disturbed by us. I myself shall pay her a weekly visit, simply to see that she has all she requires. And now gentlemen, you may bestow the kiss."

  He tu
rned to me, pointing towards my thighs, "Carmen, if you please."

  I guessed at once what was wanted. I opened the dress at the front to expose my cunt, tossed my head so that my long black hair fell on to my naked shoulders. One by one the gentlemen went on their knees in front of me and applied their lips to my hot sex. The occasion seemed to be solemn, so I didn't move. Each, as he rose to his feet, bowed and stepped aside. When they had all delivered their kiss, they turned at once and left.

  When they were gone, Miguel spoke.

  "Now I myself will take my leave. I will not pay you a weekly visit. I will not see you again until I come to fetch you for your last passion. When I leave this estate, Prince B. is your adored lover. In case you have anything to communicate to me, you may contact me through the tall footman called Angelo."

  "Have you anything else to say to me, Miguel?"

  "Nothing."

  "You don't want to make love to me ... once?"

  He paused. Finally he said: "No, Carmen. I want more than that of you, and I shall have it at the Cross. Who knows if I took that from you now, whether I would have the courage to take the other then?"

  He smiled and left the room.

  I was alone, waiting for my lover.

  The Honeymoon

  -1-

  I am thinking all the time of these weeks now, the only weeks of ordinary love I have ever known. Night after night of sensuality. And the days.

  When he came into the room, I was lying on the divan. I was still wearing the red dress, long and loose like a curtain which stopped, surprisingly, below my beautifully poised breasts. My nipples were still black, a jet, deep black which heightened enormously the sensual line of the breasts. I had brushed my straight black hair which fell just below the shoulders, and I had given a letterbox look to my mouth with red paint.

  He stood for a while just staring at me, as though I had stepped out of the sky, and then, crossing the room quickly, he threw himself to the floor beside the divan and showered my hands with kisses. I lifted his face across the line of my breasts close to my own and held us at a distance of six inches for a few moments until slowly, and sensually, I dragged his lips down against mine. At first I allowed them barely to touch. Sensing his growing passion, I allowed my lips to collapse with a little inward take of breath and his tongue entered gently into my mouth's warm cave. He kissed me for a long time after he put his right hand to my left breast, then he lowered his lips and took the nipple in his mouth.

  "You will keep our bargain?" I whispered.

  He didn't answer. His whole soul was adoring my breast. I didn't interrupt him. There was plenty of time. I would find out in that time just what he most urgently required of me. It would be his. I would stop at nothing, even, if he saw fit, I would accept death. The thought made the future more exciting. Yes, if Prince B. had the courage to be my murderer, I would gladly give myself up to him. Not for his sake, for at the beginning I had hardly more than a vague sympathy for him, but simply to accomplish dying and to outwit Miguel. Not that I hated Miguel, either. I didn't. But he had for purely selfish reasons deceived me for over five years. Was I flattered? Perhaps. But why shouldn't I deceive him?

  But Prince B. was so much like a child in his sucking my breast, or like an adult's version of a child, for a child is often more brutal. I lifted a child in Barcelona one day and gave it my breast. There was no milk and the child put all his puny little strength into sucking.

  No. I didn't believe he would never have the power to kill me. Would he, when he lost me, have the power to kill himself? It struck me as strange that I would never know the answer to that question.

  He was looking me passionately in the face.

  "Carmencita!" he breathed.

  I smiled adoringly at him.

  He buried his face in my neck. What a child! Should I mother him? Is that what he really desired?

  I thought not.

  "Suck my cunt!" I said in a vicious whisper. "Come up under my dress, slowly, like a dog!"

  When he hesitated, with a defensive look of astonishment on his face, I said intensely, putting lust in my throat: "Do it, my darling! That is what you want to do. Approach gradually with your lips and nose. Come! See if it is dangerous!"

  I whirled my full skirt over his head.

  With the shame of his face hidden, I pushed his head down gently to the level of my knees. The skirt ballooned over him, his tent of lust.

  "Listen!" I said urgently to him, in a soft but breathless and confederate voice: "Do what you want to do! You want to get used to the dark, you don't want to move yet. Don't run home to my cunt like a scared rabbit. Smell it out first! See that it is not dangerous, that you're stronger than it, and then you can take it like a vandal! ... But not now! Not yet! For you're not a vandal yet. You are only a mole with a long snout, timorous, blind, you are not sure of what is ahead. It's like being under the sea. It is dark. It has an odor. Deep in this warm tropical sea there is a cave. In shadow. Go with suspicion. There is an octopus in the cave, a great sucking creature, a night. Let your tongue lie on your lower lip and breathe deeply through both voracious nostrils. Pant, but in a muffled way. You don't want the creature to hear. Sniff. Do you smell it? That's it. That. Slowly now, with your nose and tongue smell my left knee cap. Drop a little saliva off. Lick it up. Taste it. Savor it. Now, slide you head 'round so that your nose and tongue touch the soft inside of my right knee. What? What's that? It's not it. It's something else. Warm. Overpowering. It smells like shit. Yes. It is the smell of shit. It is strange and interesting, that smell of shit. No reason for panic. There, now, move your nose up suddenly to smell my cunt, but from a distance, from between my knees, and then bare your teeth; smell through the teeth, salivate, get that wind on your palate. Now, tongue like a little prod ahead, explore the white vastness of my thighs. Dawn is breaking, see, I am lifting my skirt slightly. But not yet, gradually. Stop. You felt a hair at the tip of your nose, a long hair, a hair with an odor; you are near, very near. The tongue. Gently and dripping saliva, let it go forward through your lips. Hold your breath. You feel the hairs at the tip of your tongue? Take a deep breath. A deep smell. Let a noise begin at the back of your throat, a hushed grunt. See, dawn is breaking. Stick your tongue out and lay it with its delicate taste buds on the sweaty mat of hair. The cave is moving like a sponge, gently suppurating, in the tide. The round bowls of the sea's bottom are lifting to your cheeks. It is light. Make a first tentative dent in the hairy mat. See it break red. It is a maw! It is a woman's cunt!"

  I shuddered as his mouth thrust itself wetly amid the hair. I farted softly and gripped his cheeks between my thighs in a soft vice. There, his tongue was exploring the slimy pit beneath the mat of hair, tipping over the rubbery parts and sliding voluptuously in the great slime-trickle that moved down like a sap from the dark depths of my belly.

  "Suck me dry!" I whispered. "Suck my big hairy slime-pit dry!"

  His whole mouth burst into me, the hairs on his upper lip mingling with my cunt hairs.

  When he had explored and sucked for about ten minutes, I moved away suddenly, stood up and pulled my dress about my naked loins.

  "That's enough for the moment, darling. We must talk a little. I shall ring for tea."

  He gazed at me with fascination. He said nothing.

  -2-

  After tea we sat together on the divan. I allowed him to put his hand under my dress between my naked thighs. I began to caress his ear with my mouth. His fingers were at the thatch and he was parting the stickily dried hairs.

  "Take my dress off," I said huskily. "I want you to kiss my belly and my breasts."

  He didn't move quickly this time. Gently he undid the hooks at my ribs and slid the robe off my body like a soft sheath. I lay naked, my legs together, relaxed. I breathed deeply, distending my creamy belly provocatively.

  "Your lips," I said. "Explore the surfaces. Your nose, smell me all over. The navel, under the breasts, the armpits. Yes, your lips amongst the
hair under my left arm. Another little nest of corruption for you to explore..."

  His tongue moistened and curled the hair into wisps under my armpits. His lips sucked and tugged at my nipples, lingered at my navel.

  "Grunt and sniff!" I whispered huskily. "See how it rises towards your mouth. It's there. Taste it again."

  This time he buried his head thoroughly in the pit of lust at my thighs and I spread him 'round with all my hot corruption.

  "Your cock, take it out now ... no, don't undress, not this time, it's not safe! Just your balls and cock. Stand up and waggle it for me. Make it really big! Yes, your wonderful big prick!"

  It rose like a peg, slick and shiny where the foreskin slipped back.

  "Waggle it. Tell him about the big hot cunt that's waiting for him ... Now, kneel at my feet and start licking upwards from between the toes until your big stiff prick is between my knees."

  His balls slipped up between my shins until I had his cock at its base between my knees. I gripped it tightly so that the tip was embedded between the soft slats of my thighs.

  "Give yourself!" I whispered urgently, and his first hot emission shot forth between my thighs and clung between the two surfaces in a curtain of slime.

  He groaned and shuddered violently.

  "Get up!" I said in a vulgar voice. "Get out of here and come back when you're ready to fuck!"

  -3-

  When I heard him about to come back, I pulled the wide silk bag down over my head and shoulders as far as my waist and held it on the inside with my hands tight on my hips. Kicking and grunting on the bed as he entered, I presented the aspect of the naked lower half of a woman protruding violently from a large scarlet pod.

  It took him at least ten seconds to reach the divan where I bucked about violently with my hairy mound in the hair.

  "Carmencita!"

  I grunted like a pig, my naked legs flailing about. He didn't speak again. He came at me, a beast of prey who had found a helpless and kicking victim in the forest. I felt myself grasped at the knees by strong fingers. They were forced apart and the weight of his front fell heavily between my thighs. He wasn't going to make any mistake this time. He intended to have me with his prick to its hilt in my cunt. I didn't fight him seriously. The fine muscles of my lower torso rippled under him until I felt the big prick sink in. It reminded me of the launching of a ship. The tip was placed, a little pressure exerted, and then ... sloosh! as the hull cuts evenly into the water. Sunk in my cunt now, he flattened my legs under him, twisting his own sinewy ones around mine like creepers, riveting me to the bed. And then I felt him work at the bag. He intended to have me and not the anonymous cunt that hung down like a half-unwrapped lollipop. I relaxed entirely under him and when he slid the bag first over my belly and then on upwards over my swelling breasts I made no effort to hinder him. I breathed deeply as though he had overpowered me, as though now that his eyes stared into mine, I was truly his, and my eyes said so and the twitch of my nostrils and my wet red lips.