THE ALTAR OF VENUS: The Making of a Victorian Rake
Page 9
On the occasion of one such outing, I struck up an acquaintance with a well dressed cultured gentleman who like myself was unaccompanied. We had a few drinks together and the man, evidently taking a liking to me, invited me to accompany him the following evening to an exclusive club in which a motion picture was to be displayed. He has seen the picture once, but was so impressed with it, that he wished to see it a second time. I was much interested, for I had not as yet had an opportunity to see a picture of this nature, so gladly accepted his invitation, agreeing to meet him the following evening.
Half afraid that his friendship had been born of the numerous libations we had shared, and that it would be forgotten before the birth of a new day, I was early at the prearranged meeting place. My fears were unfounded, for punctually at the hour agreed, he appeared.
We ate dinner together, and when it was concluded, we took a taxi which turned so many corners I quickly lost all sense of direction. We would up finally in a quiet street, and came to a stop before a large stone edifice which, as far as its outward appearance indicated, might have been the residence of some banker or retired politician.
A touch of the bell, a few words exchanged between my companion and the doorman, and we were inside. Turning our hats and coats over to another attendant, we proceeded down a hall which led us to a spacious saloon, in one extremity of which was a stage. Comfortable chairs, lounges, and sofas were distributed about the place, in number sufficient to accommodate a hundred or more guests. At the moment of our entry, the saloon was lighted and there were, between men and women, some sixty or seventy persons present.
I glanced around curiously. This was clearly a place of the elite. The women were gowned in the height of fashion and most of the men were in formal dress. Colored liquors were being served in thin long stemmed glasses and as my companion and I crossed the room toward an unoccupied settee, he was greeted familiarly on all sides.
As soon as we were seated I began a survey of the feminine element and quickly observed that among the women present were many, both young and beautiful. The entire lack of formality and constraint, the freedom of their movements, the generous display of breasts, backs, shoulders and legs was suggestive of the demimonde, and I could hardly restrain a feeling of envy toward the men whose company they shared. In imagination I followed them after the conclusion of such entertainment as this we were about to witness to luxuriously appointed apartments where with senses aflame, they abandoned themselves to wild orgies of lust.
As my gaze wandered from face to face it came to rest upon a young woman of rare and striking beauty over whom a vapid faced Frenchman was hovering and showering with exaggerated attentions. The woman I guessed to be in the neighborhood of twenty-five. She was dressed in black, and the front of her gown was cut so low that it barely reached the nipples of two singularly large and beautiful breasts, whose upper halves were entirely exposed. Always an admirer of pretty breasts, this exotic charm alone would have been sufficient to engage my attention. Her figure was slim, a fact which further accentuated the prominence and contour of her breasts. Raven black hair threw the pallor of a face of lily-like whiteness into sharp contrast. She did not look French and my impression was that she was Italian or Spanish.
There was something violently sensual about this girl and my pulse quickened as I watched her. My companion broke into my absorption with a dry commentary.
"You seem to be interested in Russian."
"Russian?" I replied, "I thought probably she was Italian. Whatever her nationality is, she is a remarkably beautiful woman."
"I know her well enough to present you if you wish. Russian nobility but better fixed than most of them who have come in since the war. Married a rich Frenchman when she was fifteen. Too fast for the old fellow. Caught her in 'delicto flagrante' and divorced her. But he settled an annuity on her that will keep her in luxury as long as she lives."
His comments augmented, rather than diminished my interests, and I assured him I would be very glad to make her acquaintance. Whereupon he led me across the and after obtaining the lady's permission, I was duly introduced.
To my delight, the Russian girl has a good knowledge of English so I was spared the ordeal of trying to converse with her in French. She introduced me to her escort, who acknowledged the courtesy with little cordiality and glared at me with a look which seemed to say:
"I'll thank you to kindly get the hell away from here."
However I did not permit his coolness to interfere with my efforts to make myself agreeable to the Russian girl, whom I found to be even more fascinating at close range than at a distance. She was a woman who exuded sexual magnetism from every pore, one of those women seemingly designed by Nature to appeal to men's sensual appetites – women born to be dolls and playthings of men rather than wives and mothers.
In the midst of our conversation we were interrupted by a bell announcing the beginning of the picture, and the lights were suddenly extinguished. The four of us groped our way through the semidarkness toward an unoccupied settee and sat down, the Russian girl taking her place between the Frenchman and myself.
The picture which was shown was of a startling and realistic nature, dealing with the methods and operations of white slavers recruiting girls for houses of prostitution, and the violation of one of their innocent victims.
First appeared upon the screen the copy of an advertisement, which translated into English, read about as follows?
WANTED – Girls for dancing and theatrical work. No previous experience necessary. Salary paid while learning. Apply at…
Then was shown a cheaply equipped office, in which a long line of girls stood waiting their turn to make application for the promised employment. Behind a desk a man was sitting, interviewing the girls one by one, filling out a card with the applicant's name and address, with notations as to age, whether living alone or with parents or guardians, and data as to the applicant's characteristics and appearance. Each was asked whether, in case of acceptance, she would be agreeable to leaving the city. As quickly as this data was jotted down the applicant was dismissed with a statement to the effect that she would be notified later as t whether she could be placed.
The object of this preliminary was to enable the slavers to select attractive girls and by their adroit questions determine which of these would be the safest subjects for exploitation.
The next episode of the picture finds us viewing the humble quarters of two Parisian misses, evidently sisters, living alone. We recall having observed the younger of the two girls in the line of applicants before the pseudo theatrical agent's desk. She is a pretty, beautifully formed little blond of innocent, almost Madonna-like features. The furnishings of the room, thought neat and orderly, indicate resources of the most modest nature. At the moment the scene is flashed before us, the younger girl, clad only in a chemise which permits us to admire a pair of shapely legs, is engaged in washing some stockings in a porcelain basin. The elder, dressed for the street, is apparently about to leave when a knock is heard at the door. On the threshold stands a sleek shifty face individual. He glances at a card in his hand and inquires whether this is the domicile of Mademoiselle Eva Thibault. The object of his inquiry, listening to the conversation from behind the door, hurries to drape her naked limbs, and when this is accomplished the visitor is invited to enter.
He is pleased, oh, very pleased, to announce that Mademoiselle Eva has been selected t play a small part in a musical revue, which is to open with a week at Bordeaux. She must prepare to accompany him immediately as some days will be necessary for the young lady to familiarize herself with her part. They are to take the train this very morning and she will greatly oblige him by making immediate preparations.
The modest habitation is thrown into a fever of excitement by the news of this good fortune and the two girls throw things right and left as they hurriedly pack a small grip with articles of apparel and toilet for Eva's use, while the gentleman obligingly waits outside.
Eva, accompanied by the agent, enters a waiting cab.
When we see them again, they are leaving the train, presumably in Bordeaux. Another taxi is called and an address given. Now we are taken to an edifice of gloomy aspect, located in what was probably in days gone by a part of the city's residential section, for the house, grey, weather beaten, dilapidated, is crowded in between a warehouse and a brewery. The windows are closely shuttered and at first glance it seems to be an unoccupied building.
The taxi bearing Eva and the agent now appears and stops in front of this structure.
As they alight Eva glances wonderingly about her but still in the eager enthusiasm of her prospective rise to fame and wealth behind the footlights. She suspects nothing and lends herself docilely to the machinations of the wily procurer.
They ascend the steps, the man explaining that this is a boarding house in which arrangements have been made to house the members of the cast during their stay in the city. He rings a bell, and after a long wait the door opens sufficiently to permit their entry, and closes behind them.
Eva is in the trap.
They are confronted by a heavy faced woman of curiously masculine aspect. She is stoutly built and extremely dark and heavy eyebrows give her an ominously sinister appearance. If it were not for her ponderous breasts and enormous hips, we would suspect this personage of being a man dressed n female apparel. Eva is presented to her as one of the "new girls" and acknowledges the introduction timidly. The woman places an arm about her with exaggerated familiarity and assures her that she will like the place, and that they are going to be great friends, both of which statements we doubt very much.
The agent and the woman now withdraw a few steps, and converse in whispers. A roll of bills changes hands. The man, with a cynical smile on his wolfish features, tells Eva that the "madame" will take care of her from now on, bows and retires. His work is finished.
From this point on the tragedy unrolls with precise and startling realism.
We see Eva, looking curiously about her, confused and timid in the strange surroundings, conducted to an interior room in which are lounging half a dozen other girls in intimate dishabille. Several of these are probably no older than Eva but they do not resemble her in appearance. They are heavily rouged and painted, their faces denote hardened sophistication, their eyes are bold and hard. In fact, they look like typical prostitutes of the cheaper class. A brief pause in this room while Eva is presented to these young ladies. They watch her silently, with much the attitude of a feline watching a mouse as it ventures out of its hiding place. She is hurried into another apartment. Here the madame invites her to remove her cloak and hat, and informs her that a lunch will be served her.
A table is prepared, and a slovenly servant appears with food and drink. Eva eats a few mouthfuls and is urged to take a glass of wine to refresh herself from the journey. Within a few minutes after taking a portion of the liquor offered, her head begins to droop. She tries to straighten up, an expression of fright crosses her face, but the drug she has unknowingly consumed renders her powerless and she falls sidewise in her chair. Like a hawk, the madame is upon her and seizes her just in time to prevent her from falling to the floor. Lifting hr as easily as though she were an infant, she carries the unconscious girl from the room, up two flights of stairs and into a small alcove, windowless except for a glass skylight overhead.
Eva is now in a drugged stupor, her eyes are close, her form limp and yielding. Her hair, which has become unloosened, falls in a golden cascade over her shoulders. The madame lays her upon a bed. She stands for a moment looking down on the unconscious child. What thought are passing through her mind, as she gazes upon that innocent face? Does she feel a pang of remorse for the pure beauty which is to be offered up on the altar of lust? Or is she simply calculating the probable profits which will accrue to her, through the defilement of that lovely body? Most likely the latter, for her face betrays no indication of pity, but rather gloating satisfaction, as she proceeds to disrobe the girl. First she removes the little high heeled slippers, then the filmy silk stockings which on being withdrawn disclose a pair of white symmetrical legs upon which we have previously gazed. Now, lifting the girl to a sitting position, she draws up and removes her outer garment. Then follows a short underskirt, a chemise, a dainty brassierre, a pair of little silk panties, and Eva is disclosed to us all in her virginal nudity.
With the last article of clothing removed the madame pauses again to examine the prostrate form. Leaning over it she feels the diminutive but plump little breasts, as though to prove their firmness. Her hands descend, she seizes the child's knees and pulls her legs apart. The next instant her finger is inserted within the sexual cleft. The expression on her face indicates that she is pleased with the result of this profane exploration. Eva's maidenhead is intact and will bring lucrative return in cash. She gathers up the girl's clothing, and taking it with her, leaves the room, locking the door behind her.
Outside the door she stops, slides back a small panel, and stands for an interval peering through this aperture at the girl, still lying motionless and unconscious upon the bed. She closes the panel and proceeds downstairs.
Now we see two persons engaged in telephonic conversation. One of these is the madame. The other is a man of middle age whose face bears the stamp of dissipation and cruelty. The printed text in French tells the client of a new acquisition, of superlative charm, and virginal integrity. The gentleman is being offered Eva's maidenhead. An appointment is made, and the picture dissolves from our view.
A sign is flashed upon the screen announcing a five minute intermission and the lights are turned on. During the course of the picture which I have briefly outlined, and which consumed possibly some thirty minutes in the showing, the Russian girl had remained silent. Now she turned to me with a smile, and inquired as to how I was enjoying the picture. I replied that t was very impressive, more so as it was the first film of this nature I had ever seen. She seemed surprised and began t question me as to how I had been entertaining myself while in Paris. I mentioned a number of the places I had visited, and found she was familiar with most of them.
"Do you know," she broke in, irrelevantly, "you're quite good looking?"
Somewhat taken aback, I replied with assumed seriousness.
"And not a bit conceited!" she continued, smiling.
Further conversation wsa interrupted by a bell which announced the continuance of the film, and the lights were turned off.
It is night now, and we return to the room in which Eva, victim of white slavers, is held prisoner. Eva, naked, is sitting on the edge of the bed, weeping. In the position in which she is sitting, directly before us, we are able to appreciate her physical beauty in all its extension. Between her slightly separated thighs, below a little cluster of golden curly hair, the flower of her sex is partially visible.
The scene is emotional, and not a sound is heard in the saloon except the whir of the film as it is fed into the projecting machine.
Under cover of the darkness, the Russian girl places her hand upon my knee. Her fingers squeeze the flesh lightly and the contact sends an electric thrill vibrating through my body. Between this, and the effect of Eva's nakedness, my cock begins to harden. I sense its rapid increase in size under the constriction of my clothing. The hand upon my knee begins to travel upward, and comes to rest exactly over the spot where my clothing is most distended. And through the texture of the garment, the clasp of warm, soft fingers becomes apparent. I drop my hand down over hers, and press it expressively.
The picture changes, and we are taken back to another room in which the madame and the hard faced man we previously saw at the telephone are in conference. They sit on either side of a small table, between them a bottle of wine and glasses. At intervals script in French conveys
to us the import of the conversation, which revolves about the price of Eva's maidenhead.
"Are you sure?"
"I couldn't get this in!" replies the woman, holding up the index finger of her right hand.
"Well, how much?"
"To you, five hundred francs."
"Five hundred francs?" exclaims the man angrily, springing to his feet. "Five hundred francs? Too much!"
"Five hundred francs," replies the woman, stolidly. "Five hundred to you. A thousand to anyone else. I can get it. She's the prettiest little piece you ever laid eyes on. Breasts like this…" and she cupped her hands expressively.
"I won't pay it!"
"Coma and look!" answered the procuress, cunningly, rising to her feet.
The man glared at her a moment in silence, then he too rose, and followed her.
They proceed to the room in which Eva is confined. The small panel is slid back, and the man peers through. For a long interval he stands motionless, his gaze riveted on the spectacle of Eva's nudity.
"I'll pay it!" he whispers, closing the panel.
They return t the room in which we previously saw them, and the man removes a wallet from his pocket, counts out the stipulated amount, hands it to the madame, and in return receives the key to Eva's prison.
They drink a glass of liquor to the successful termination of the transaction, and the madame, wit a suggestive leer, wishes him a pleasant night.
Across the screen appears another notice, announcing a brief suspension of the picture in order to present a symbolical dancing act or terpsichorean fantasy entitled "Deux Femmes Modernes."
Short, but spectacular, it brought enthusiastic applause from the audience. Across the stage, now bathed in a flood of changing lights of red, green, violet and gold, whirled two beautiful young girls, except for hose and slippers, stripped stark naked. More than naked, for the black silk hose accentuated a hundred-fold the white nudity of their torsos. In an embrace so close they seem but one body, they writhe, twist, undulate and whirl about the small stage.