“Quickly there, buggerblast me!” said Noirceuil, “pull up her skirts, let me fuck her.”
Her pretty bosom having been brought into view when I unlaced her stays, Noirceuil was soon kneading and mauling her in that barbaric manner with which he is wont to caress breasts. I finished undressing the poor creature; she was still unconscious when I took her upon my lap, exposing that pretty ass to the libertine who, while I tugged at his pubic hairs, readied himself for his beloved sodomy. Careless of his victim’s feelings, Noirceuil drove into the breach with such impetuosity that he soon summoned the little lady back to life.
“Where am I?” she gasped upon opening her eyes, “and what, good lord! is being done to me?”
“Have patience, my child,” I said in a rather chilly tone, “it won’t be long before we have everything we want from you.”
“But these things—”
“Strange things which your husband never did, eh?”
“Never, oh never! I shudder—”
“Shudder away, but at the same time think a moment, Madame,” said the ferocious Noirceuil, pursuing his embuggery, “it would require no more than to cut through the thinnest of partitions and the act you take exception to would be nullified; and so, if you like, Juliette, with a razor—”
“Fuck, Noirceuil, fuck, your mind is beginning to rove.”
And the little woman, continuing to struggle: “Let go of me, let go! ’Tis a violence, an abomination—”
“Why, God damn your soul!” Noirceuil roared, seizing a pistol and clapping the barrel to her temple, “any more disturbance from you, just one more word, and I blow your brains out.”
’Twas then the unhappy creature realized that resignation was her only course. Wearily, tearfully, she bends her head, lays it upon my breast, I pinch her belly, pull the hairs from her bush, cause her, in fine, such sharp pain that Noirceuil, locked in that trim little anus as though in a vice, senses the sperm rising in his balls. He catches hold of her breasts from underneath, wrenches them so cruelly, her pain becomes so extreme that the rake fairly screams as he discharges. He withdraws; and I, leaping upon that charming woman, I in my turn derive an excruciating pleasure from her. This scene revives Noirceuil; his prick rearisen, he comes forward to join us. Through the position I am in, my buttocks are accessible to him, he kisses them, and, inserting his prick in Madame de Valrose’s mouth, orders her to suck it: her initial reaction is one of horror, her next impulse is to disobey. What a group! I was sprawled atop Valrose; Noirceuil was lying upon me; he was warming himself in that pretty little person’s mouth and was tonguing my ass. I poured fuck into my fricatrice’s cunt, Noirceuil loosed his into her mouth. Then we readjusted ourselves.
“There we are,” said Noirceuil, his self-possession once returned, “the infidelity has been committed; do you or do you not intend to save your husband?”
“Will he be saved by that, Monsieur?” was the charming creature’s question, asked in the mildest and sweetest voice; “are you very sure it will save him?”
“I swear it by all that is holy,” the traitor declared, “and if I am mistaken, I am willing to forego all renewal of the pleasures I have just tasted with you. Be here tomorrow morning, we shall go to the judge together, you will sign a deposition affirming your husband’s guilt; I shall have him at your side the next day.”
“Oh, Noirceuil,” I murmured to that monster, “how I admire this perseverance you are able to display in crime, even beyond the moment when the passions have subsided.”
“Why, you saw me accomplish my act of pleasure,” Noirceuil replied; “you know, do you not, that my every expense of fuck is the signing of a death warrant?”
We separated. Madame de Valrose, whom I conveyed to her home, besought me to take an interest in her case; and I promised that I would, with the sincerity one owes to a whore one has become tired of. The following day she made her deposition; and on the day after that Noirceuil arranged affairs so cleverly that the poor little thing was declared her husband’s accomplice, and hanged beside him where he, after having been broken, lay exposed upon the wheel. We were, Noirceuil and I, watching from a window, I frigged him during the spectacle, he frigged me. Was my discharge agreeable? Not in ages had I enjoyed a better one. Compassion moved Noirceuil to ask for the custody of the child, he obtained it, he fucked it, and inside twenty-four hours had flung it into the streets, penniless and naked.
“Far, far better that than to kill it,” he pointed out to me, “its sufferings will last longer, as shall my joy at being responsible for them.”
Meanwhile, Abbé Chabert had found me everything I needed. A week after having arrived in Paris I moved myself into a town house, you know what a delightful place it is; and I bought this property in the neighborhood of Essonnes, where we are forgathered today; I invested the rest of my funds in various holdings, and when all my business was completed, estimated my income at roughly four million a year. Fontange’s five hundred thousand was spent furnishing my two houses, magnificently, I think you will agree. Next, I turned my attentions to libidinous arrangements; I assembled my several seraglios of women, in town and in country; I hired thirty valets, all of them tall solid fellows, comely, chosen especially for size of member; and you know the service I get from them. I have, besides, six mackerels of my own in Paris, they pander exclusively to me, and when I am in the city I always spend three hours at one of their establishments, every day. Out here in the country, they send me what they find, and you have often been able to verify the quality of their furnitures. With all that, I would venture to suppose there are few women who can claim to lead a more delightful life; and yet, you know, I do not cease to want; I consider myself poor; my desires are infinitely in excess of my possibilities; I would spend twice as much, if I had it; and I leave no stone unturned to increase my wealth, criminal or not, there is nothing I am unwilling to do for money.
Once these divers arrangements had been made, I sent a servant to bring Mademoiselle Fontange from Chaillot; everything owed for her keep was paid, and she was led out of her nunnery. Nothing in all the length and breadth of Nature could equal that girl’s beauty. Imagine Flora herself, and of Fontange’s graces and attractions you will still have a very imperfect idea. Seventeen years of age, Mademoiselle Donis was blonde; loosened, her superb tresses reached nearly to the floor; her eyes were a lovely brown, of incomparable liveliness, sparkling with love and voluptuousness at once; her delightful mouth never seemed to open save to heighten her beauty; and her faultless teeth resembled pearls set amidst roses. Naked, this heavenly creature could have served as model to the painter of the Graces. That richly rounded mons veneris! Those gloriously turned, infinitely inspiring thighs! That ass, that sublime ass! O Fontange! the cruelty it required, and the libertinage, not to spare such a host of charms, and not to exempt at least you from the rigorous fate I reserved for all my playthings.
Five years before, when her mother had first talked to her about me, Fontange had been told that all possible respect and consideration were due me; upon learning who had sent the servant to fetch her away, she was overjoyed; and upon arriving, dazzled by this opulence, by this multitude of valets, by these magnificent furnishings, things which were all very new to her who had never until now been outside her convent, she blinked her eyes in disbelief, wondering whether she had not been transported to an Olympus, borne above the clouds to some aerial dwelling place, habitat of gods: she may even have taken me for Venus. She sank down at my knees, I raised her up; I kissed her rosy mouth, her glistening eyes, her two cheeks so fair and which so quickly took Nature’s brightest crimson hue when touched by my lips. I hugged her to my breast and felt her little heart beat excitedly against mine, like that of a fledgling dove one has stolen from its nest. She was dressed with a degree of stylishness, albeit simply; from underneath a pretty flowered hat her superb blonde hair fell in curls to her two exquisitely shaped shoulders. When she spoke it was in a gentle tone, in a musical voice full
of sweet mildness.
“Madame, I thank a generous heaven for the privilege of being able to devote my life to you. My mother is dead; in this world I have no one else but you.”
As the words came forth her eyes grew moist, and I smiled.
“Yes, my child,” I said to her, “your mother is dead; she was my friend; hers was an untimely, an unusual death … she left in my trust a certain amount of money for you. If you behave deservingly toward me, you may be rich; but that will all depend upon your conduct, upon blind obedience to my will.”
“I shall be your slave, Madame.” And she bent and kissed my hand.
And I kissed her mouth again, rather more lingeringly this second time. I lifted her kerchief away, freed her bosom from its veils. She reddened; though unsteadied by agitation, nevertheless she continued, in measured and respectful terms, to sound the well-bred and decent young lady. Then for the third time I take her in my arms … her hair is a little disheveled, her lovely breasts are entirely bare; and, after fastening my mouth upon hers, “I believe,” I say to her, “I believe I am going to love you, for you are young and pure and sweet.”
The idea of shocking her occurred to me then: nothing is prettier than virtue scandalized by vice. I ring for my women; I have them undress me in the presence of this heavenly little girl; I gaze at myself in a looking glass.
“Tell me, Fontange,” I say, kissing her anew, “is it true that I have an attractive body?”
And the poor thing averted her eyes; her face was scarlet. Around me I had four of my most beautiful women: Phryné, Laïs, Aspasia, and Theodora; all four between sixteen and eighteen years of age; so many Aphrodites.
“Come, Mademoiselle,” Laïs said to her, “do not be backward. ’Tis a favor Madame is granting you; take advantage of it.”
She advances, but with lowered eyes. I take her by the hand, draw her down upon my body.
“What a child she is,” I murmur to my women; “Phryné, show our babe in arms what she is to do.”
And Phryné sits down beside me, takes my head upon her breast and, reaching a hand toward my cunt, begins to rub my clitoris. No woman acquits herself of that chore so well as she. Her execution is adroit, tutored, the play of her fingers lascivious, unerring; she kisses and caresses the behind in a singular manner; her tongue, when that is what I wish, tickles the anus marvelously; her movements upon the mons veneris harmonize amazingly with what she is capable of doing in the other temple, which she sucks indescribably when called upon. While Phryné was in action; Laïs, astride my chest, advanced her dear little cunt into position for sucking; Theodora was frigging my asshole, and the beautiful Aspasia maintained Fontange nearby the spectacle and her attention fixed upon it, while frigging her to soothe her aching conscience.
“Did you not use to do the same thing with your companions?” Aspasia asked her.
“Oh, never!”
“Fiddlesticks,” said I from between Laïs’ buttocks, “it’s nothing but masturbation in convents, I know it from experience. At your age I had already had my hands under everybody’s skirt.” Then, leaving the cunt I had been sucking: “Come here and kiss me,” I ordered Fontange.
She approaches; I devour her.
My women received instructions to undress her. And proceedings were temporarily interrupted while the clothing that was hindering my pleasures was removed, Fontange’s first, then everyone else’s. Ah, great God! how beautiful the child was when naked! what fairness of skin! what proportions!
“Very well,” said I, “place her upon me, in such a way that I have this most winning of cunts above my lips. To you, Aspasia, will go the ass her position will be offering you: tongue her anus. Phryné, you shall frig her clitoris, seeing to it that all exhalations drain into my mouth. I am going to spread my legs; you, Theodora, between my thighs, shall cunt-suck me while, Laïs, you shall be licking my asshole. Fair friends, pray put all your science to best purpose; use every trick you know, invent others, for this maid excites me exceedingly, and I wish to shed a sea of fuck on her account.”
I need not describe to you all the pleasure I was to extract from this celestial scene; I went half-mad from joy. Lust did in due time assert itself in the young Fontange; she was unable to resist the voluptuous sensations vibrating throughout her being. Modesty gives way to raptures, and the novice discharges. Oh, how delicious is the first flowing of fuck! With what joy I fed upon that nectar!
“Turn her over,” were the next instructions I issued to my women; “have her place her head between Theodora’s thighs, and suck her cunt; I in the meantime shall frig her ass with my tongue; Laïs will do the same to me; I shall be fondling, stimulating an ass with each of my two hands.”
Another ecstasy, another ejaculation on my part; it is more than I can bear, I seize Fontange, I leap upon her, I press my clitoris hard against hers, I rub frenziedly, I devour her mouth, my women tease my ass, spank it, thrash it, slip their hands underneath and worry my sex, in short, they overwhelm me with pleasure, and I loose what must be my tenth discharge, with my impure sperm drenching the delicious cunt of the prettiest and most virginal of girls.
The fuck gone forth, the illusion faded away. Beautiful as Fontange was, I now saw her with nought but that malign indifference which wakes cruelty in me when I am weary of objects, and soon her doom was spelled out in the depths of my heart.
“Put the clothes back on her,” I said to my women.
I too got dressed; I sent the others out, we remained alone.
“Mademoiselle,” I said to her harshly, “augur nothing from a fleeting moment of inebriety into which Nature plunged me against my will; banish any thought that predilection might, on my part, have had something to do with it; I am fond of women in general; you satisfied me; there’s an end to it. You must now be informed that your mother gave me five hundred thousand francs for your dowry; it were simpler that you learn the fact from me than from some other source.”
“Yes, Madame, I already know it.”
“Ah, Mademoiselle, you already know it; my congratulations to you. However, what you do not already know is that your good mother contracted a debt in this very same amount to a certain Monsieur de Noirceuil, to whom I of course transferred the sum, and who may bestow it upon you, if he chooses, or else keep it, for it belongs to him, both the money and the decision too. I shall take you tomorrow to see this gentleman, and urge you to behave with utmost obligingness should he happen to make any demands upon you.”
“Madame, the ethical and moral training which supplied the very basis of the excellent education I have been given—Madame, I wish to say that they are hardly consistent with your counsels.”
“Nor with my actions, you may as well add, since you have taken it into your head to scold me. Blame me even for my kindness to you, I advise you to do that also.”
“I am not saying that, Madame.”
“Well, do say it if you want to, for I assure you that your reproaches affect me as little as your praise: one frolics with a little girl like you, and when the game is over, one scorns her.”
“Scorn, Madame! I thought that only vice was to be scorned.”
“Vice amuses, virtue bores. And according to my belief, whatever promotes our pleasures always deserves preference over that which gives nothing but headache and depressive vapors…. But you answer back, my fair one; you are tart, you are forward, you are insolent, and you are far from that degree of superiority which renders such failings excusable. An end to these discussions, Mademoiselle, if you please; the fact is that I owe you nothing; that with the half a million intended for you I paid a creditor to whom your mother was in debt; and that it lies with that creditor to decide whether to retain the sum or return it to you; and I warn you that he will keep it unless you show all kinds of consideration for him.”
“What kinds of consideration, Madame?”
“The same kinds I have just required from you; I should think you must understand what I mean.”
“In that case, Madame, your Monsieur de Noirceuil shall keep everything. I am not the person to embark upon any such infamous career as this you propose to me; and if, out of respect for you, out of frailty or childishness, I was able a little while ago to forget what I have been taught to regard as my duty, so well have you opened my eyes that I have been punished for my fault.” And from those eyes, the most beautiful in all the world, there now gushed a flood of tears.
“Indeed,” I said, “it is scarcely to be believed. We do not fall down at Mademoiselle’s knees, and lo! she makes a scene. My God, where would we libertines be if we had to perform curtsies and reverences before all the little harlots who frig us?”
The word harlot was the signal for a veritable tempest; there was a banging of the head upon the table, there were shrieks of despair, there were tears scattered all about the room; and, if you wish to know the truth, ’twas not without the most trenchant pleasure I carried on my humiliations of the Fontange for whom I had been all afire a short moment before. Pride is salved by the illusion’s collapse; and from disdain for the idol one obtains an indemnity for all one spent when prostrate before it. That silly little goose irritated me to a point beyond description.
“Look here, my child,” I said to her, “if Monsieur de Noirceuil does not give you your dowry, you will enter my service; it just so happens that I need a girl in the scullery, you can surely wash my pots and pans.”
And this brought forth tears in such abundance that I wondered whether she was not going to suffocate.
“On the other hand,” I continued, “if you dislike kitchens you can always go abegging or try whoring. Whoring, that’s what I believe I would suggest; your looks aren’t bad; and you have no idea what’s to be earned from frigging pricks.”
“Madame,” said Fontange, quite beside herself, “I am destined to neither of those trades. I wish to leave this house, kindly allow me to go. I repent the things I have done here, all my life I shall pray to be forgiven by the Supreme Being. … I intend to return to my convent.”
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