THE ALTAR OF VENUS: The Making of a Victorian Rake

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THE ALTAR OF VENUS: The Making of a Victorian Rake Page 10

by AnonYMous


  The flashing lights and the shifting melody of color lend an eerie fantastic effort to the nude bodies difficult to describe, while their close knee to knee, thigh to thigh, breast to breast contact, act on every fiber of the sensual emotions. Their steps increase in rapidity; one places her knee between the legs of her companion, their movements become so swift the eye can scarcely follow them. Dizzily whirling, pirouetting, literally flying, under the changing colors of the spotlight they seem like the weird figures of an erotic dream.

  So close did they maintain their embrace during this striking and really beautiful dance, that not for a single instant had their sexual parts been visible, but their undulations, the interweaving of thighs and legs was hughly suggestive and the emotional effect upon the spectators was apparent.

  The exhibition reaches its climax with one of the dancers swaying backward, supported by the arms of her companion who lowers her to the floor and then throws herself upon the recumbent figure with wild, and frantic lust. The bodies blend together as mouth to mouth, breast to breast, and clitoris to clitoris the Sapphic union is consummated.

  The applause is generous and most of us would have appreciated an encore, but the dancers, after acknowledging the applause, stand for a moment facing us, favoring us for the first time with an unobstructed view of their lithe bodies, then run behind the curtain. The stage is again in darkness. The white curtain is lowered, and before us appears the lustful, cruel face of the man who has paid five hundred francs for Eva's hymen. He stands, rapt in ecstatic lubricity, before the door in which she is confined, peering through the secret panel at the girl who, unconscious of his scrutiny, is lying naked on the bed, her face covered with one white forearm.

  He closes the panel, and inserts the key in the lock of the door. Eva hears this sound; as the door opens, she springs from the bed.

  "Oh! Who are you?" she gasps, too terrified for the moment to remember her nudity.

  The man, as though unwilling to lose a single detail of the delicious spectacle, closes the door behind him without removing his gaze from her body. He stands there gloatingly feasting his eyes on the delectable vision of her young loveliness until Eva, awakening suddenly to the significance of his steady gaze, seizes a sheet from the bed and jerks it toward her in an effort to drape her naked body.

  Something in the eyes of the man standing before her acquaints her with the desperate nature of her circumstances, and of the futility of words. She darts across the room, beats the wall with her fists, screaming:

  "Help! Help! Help!"

  CHAPTER 5

  Up to this moment he had simply stood looking at her, and even now, as she beats upon the wall with her fists and desperately calls for succor, he makes no effort to silence her. When, breathless and exhausted, the first furor of her efforts to secure the protection which will never cme had died down, he said:

  "Calm yourself my little beauty. There is no use yelling. Nobody can hear you. This room was fixed especially for noisy little girls."

  Eva stares at him wide-eyed with terror, and he continues:

  "It isn't going to hurt! Be nice and I'll make you a pretty little present! Look…" and thinking to awaken her cupidity, he withdraws a roll of currency from his picket. But ah, not all the money in the world would have impressed Eva at this moment. Trembling like a frightened dove in a trapper's hands, she thinks of nothing but the security of her little room in Paris. She stares at him uncomprehendingly, and again raises her arms to beat upon the wall.

  "Come! Come!" exclaims the man, now beginning to show annoyance, and at the same moment he lunges toward her.

  Eva shrieks, slips from his grasp, and starts toward the other side of the room. The covering she had draped around her body trails on the floor about her feet. She steps on it in her flight, trips, and falls on her hands and knees. In the confusion, the treacherous folds fall open, revealing her round white thighs and naked bottom. Galvanized to action by the sight, her persecutor moves swiftly and before she can get to her feet, lifts her, kicking, struggling and screaming, in his arms. Carrying her across the room he sits down on the edge of the bed, and holding her on his knees, strips the sheet from her clasp and throws it aside.

  "Now, little wild cat, kick and squeal till you get tired!"

  Eva's frantic efforts to liberate herself from his clutch avail her nothing; he subjects her as easily as though she were a babe in arms. Nevertheless, she continues to struggle until her strength is exhausted. Finally, she relaxes. Her eyes close, and from beneath their lashes, big tears emerge, and trickle slowly over her cheeks.

  "Now you're coming to your senses. There is no use fighting. You'll like it after you've had it once!"

  Gloatingly, he passes a hand over her firm little breasts, and down over the smooth surface of her stomach and thighs. Eva remains motionless in his arms, apparently in a state of apathetic surrender. But suddenly she becomes aware of a profane hand insinuating itself between her legs. Again she comes to life, and with renewed energy endeavors to defend the sanctity of this most intimate part of her body. A hopeless effort, for the man, his passions aroused by the sight and contact of her naked body, rudely restrains her, and imprisoning her two wrists in one hand, forces his knee between her legs to separate them. Having accomplished this, he places his free hand squarely over her cunt.

  Eva lies in his arms, rigid, frozen, her eyes wide and staring. The hand of her tormentor begins to move back and forth, he is rubbing and squeezing her genitals – genitals which never before had known contact of a male hand before. And now, a coarse finger is inserted between the scarlet folds. After a momentary exploration it is withdrawn. A smile of satisfaction crosses his face. The madame has not deceived him. The entrance to Eva's vagina is sealed so tightly that scarcely his finger tip can be introduced within the tiny aperture.

  The man-tiger is mentally licking his chops in anticipation of the feast he is about to enjoy. He lays her upon the bed, and begins to divest himself of his clothing. Coat and vest are laid aside, shoes are unfastened and removed. He strips off his shirt, trousers, underwear. His hairy formidable body is now in complete nudity. An enormous cock, foreskin drawn back and head exposed, projects in rigid, menacing erection.

  Eva, unwinking, petrified, her face a frozen mask of terror, seems to see without comprehending. He advances toward the bed. She recoils at his touch and throws herself to the opposite side of the bed, moaning:

  "No! No! No!"

  He seizes her in his arms. There is a confusion of kicking legs and naked forms. Eva is making a last and final effort to save herself from the ignominious violation.

  Her strength is not equal to the task. In a last gesture to protect her sexual flower from the enemy, she manages to twist about under her assailant, and lies upon her stomach, face down, her legs tightly locked together. The man, aroused to a fury of lubricity by her desperate resistance, mercilessly pulls her legs apart, and places himself on his knees between them. The last defenses are going down. He slips his hand under her abdomen, lifting her so that her bottom is projected upward. Eva clustches at the iron frame of the bed, then, as her grasp is torn away, at the mattress, the coverings … but her strength is gone. Her body yields. Her face is buried in the bed coverings, but her hips are elevated in the air and between the cheeks of her bottom something hard, rigid and host is prodding, searching … he is going to put it in her from behind, dog fashion.

  He lifts her bottom a bit higher and presses his hairy legs closer to the white flesh. The hand under her stomach is feeling and groping. He is endeavoring to place the head of his cock in the strategic spot.

  "No! No! No!"

  "Oh! You're hurting me!"

  "Oh, don't! Please don't!"

  And her exclamations rise to a shriek of anguish, indicated on the small script, beginning with small letters, which increase in size, terminating in immense figures which cover half the screen.

  He has found the entrance and has forced the lock. Withdrawing
the arm which has previously supported her he clutches her by the hips with both hands. With the shrieking girl now impaled, he begins the motions of copulation. His thighs recede from her bottom, and several inches of his cock are visible. He shoves it back in again pulling her bottom toward him at the same time, forcing her to reciprocate his movements. And so, alternately pulling and pushing at the girl's bottom, he consummates the violation. At the conclusion we see him straining and puffing as he brutally forces the instrument of torture entirely within Eva's tender flesh. She hangs limp and motionless in his grasp, and when he releases her after the final culminating thrusts she sinks back unconscious upon the bed and the screen is darkened.

  The spectators, impressed by the terrible realism of the representation, whisper hushed commentaries. The screen is again illuminated, and before us, bowing and smiling, we see Eva, the madame, the villain, and the false theatrical agent. They disappear one by one, leaving Eva until the last. Smiling, she raises her dress waist high. There are no undergarments to obstruct the view. With her dress elevated fan-wise on either side of her, she undulates her hips with circular, rolling movements, projecting her genitals outward voluptuously. Then she drops her skirt, kisses her fingers to us daintily, and disappears.

  We arose to take our departure, and as we did so, the Russian girl whispered: "Come and see me tomorrow afternoon!" and at the same time a diminutive card inscribed with her name and address ws slipped into my fingers.

  I went.

  And as a result of this visit, an invitation was extended to me to pass the fortnight as a guest in the beautiful little villa overlooking the river Seine, occupied by Irma, the Russian girl.

  The invitation, tendered for a fortnight, was extended over a period of three months and constituted for me a species of scholarship and post graduate course in all the arts, vices and aberrations of love. Before I had been with her a week I discovered that in comparison to Irma I was the veriest novice. There were depths of sensualism, psychic effects, mental aphrodisiacs, the like of which I had never dreamed.

  The girl had taken a fancy to me – and proposed to "educate" me in accordance with her own theories, ideas and fancies. She was of strong will and dominating character, accustomed to indulge every whim, and to gratify every desire. Her religion, her very life, was sensuality. The villa was adorned with paintings, photographs and statuary of an erotic nature, veritable gems of lewd art. It was a treasure house of pornographic literature such as I had never laid eyes on. Histories, novels, biographies, and even transcripts of testimony in judicial cases involving celebrated sexual crimes. She possessed a collection of strange and curious devices designed for the provocation of gratification of lust. In fact there was enough material here to have stocked a regular museum of erotic art, artifices and literature.

  The uses to which some of these objects were destined were obvious while others constituted for me complete mysteries. Irma, encouraging me to try to guess their uses, laughed heartily at my conjectures.

  In contrast to this antiquity, I was initiated in the mysteries of some far more modern inventions – one of which was nothing more or less than the well known electric vibrator, or massage machine, such as may be found in any well equipped barber shop. Often indeed, had I enjoyed the refreshing sensation of a facial massage without suspecting the hidden potentialities of this apparatus. The rubber vacuum cup, vibrating under the impulse of an electric motor, placed over a woman's clitoris, or on a man's cock, will produce orgasm in less than thirty seconds if the vibration is not interrupted. And as if this were not enough, an attachment has been provided by some genius, which may be substituted in female use for the vacuum cup. This attachment, available in five, six, seven and eight inch lengths, is made of pliable rubber, in shape and exact appearance, a replica of the masculine organ. In use, a condom is slipped over it for sanitary purposes. The effect upon a woman of this artifice is fulminating, and if orgasm is to be delayed, the vibration must be discontinued at short intervals.

  Amongst other novelties of a more or less artistic nature, or utilitarian purpose, all designed to excite or gratify the passions, was a series of phonograph discs. One of these records oralized and reproduced in sound the courting, seduction and deflowering of a young girl by her sweetheart. Indiscreetly, she accompanies him to his room, "to see some pictures" he wishes to show her. Indignant at the nature of the pictures she reprimands him for his temerity, but under his coaxing and blandishments, she relents, and through the medium of words and sounds, exclamations, protests, all faithfully reproduced, even to the creaking of bedsprings as she finally submits to his embraces, we participate in the invisible romance, exactly as though, veiled by a curtain from our sight, it were transpiring in the same room with us. Another, of a still more emotional nature, a rendition so true to life as to cause one to wonder whether a real rape had been consummated to effect it, oralized by a wandering vagrant. As he makes his way through a lonely wood we can hear him soliloquizing to himself and lamenting the fact that he hasn't sufficient money to compensate female companionship, after having undergone a prolonged interval of enforced chastity in the provincial workhouse at this point he spies a country maid, whose path, fortunately or unfortunately according to the viewpoint, crosses his own. He detains her and endeavors to secure her compliance with false promises of generous reimbursement. The terrified maid declines his proposition, whereupon he seizes her an to the accompaniment of shrieks, sobs and supplications on her part and lustful, observation on his, tears off her clothing and rapes her.

  Yes, Irma's hobby in life was sensualism. She had two favorite theories. One of these was that in order to hold a man's erotic fancy, he should rarely be permitted to attain orgasm in intercourse. Her reasoning was not altogether erroneous, for it must be confessed that the masculine interest diminishes with satiety. The woman who can excite a man's emotions, and maintain them in a state of excitation, without permitting him complete gratification, will not quickly lose her hold on him, but the difficulty is to find subjects who will submit to such machinations, for as is evident such a system requires the co-operation of a gentleman.

  I was to a limited extent versed in the practice and knew the advantages of holding back until my partner had reached the limits of her orgastic powers, but Irma carried the theory still further, sustaining the effect that even after the female was completely satiated ejaculation or orgasm should be avoided by the male, thereby maintaining an unsatisfied sexual urge, which tends to fan, instead of extinguish, the flames of passion. She showed me some very interesting articles on this subject but while I agreed with her in theory it seemed to me an impossible procedure in actual practice. Nevertheless, I had no objection to lending myself to a few experiments along this line.

  Irma initiated me in many intriguing aspects of psychic effects and, though she frequently had to scold me for "letting go" when under strict orders not to do so, I must admit that in following her ideas I enjoyed some of the most delicious hours of my life. And yet I realized that the effects over a considerable length of time, of the sustaining and prolonged excitation, would be enervating in the extreme, and beyond the average man's physical capacity to withstand.

  Irma was an ardent enthusiast of variation, but had a strong predilection for "Frenching" and I passed hours at a time with my mouth over her clitoris while the intimate caress was compensated with her own warm lips encircling my cock. She was an adept in the use of those subtle, perfumed preparations for intimate feminine use and not once did I play my mouth on her cunt without finding it fragrantly scented. Ordinarily, she did not permit me to ejaculate in her mouth, her customary procedure being to terminate the love bout when she perceived that I was unable to withstand the caress any longer. And more that once, after I had brought her off several times in succession, and had myself arrived at the ultimate stage of my powers of resistance, she disengaged herself from my clasp, and went to sleep while I, with my cock still vibrating expectantly, was obliged to forego sati
sfaction. It peeved me mightily at first, but after a while I found that, as a stimulant to increase and intensify the passions, this method was superlative. Girls, it's a wonderful system, and if you have the will power and the determination to hold a man to it you can keep him dangling from your apron strings indefinitely. We men are curiously ungrateful creatures, and them more liberally you treat us, the quicker we are satiated. It's not the female who generously surrenders herself to a man's every whim and fancy who can hold him, but rather, the calculating, understanding female, who knows how to keep him in a continuous state of sex hunger. And the hungrier he's kept the firmer the anchor.

  One of Irma's charms lay in the uncertainty of her determinations. I never knew from one moment to another what was coming next.

  Suprising revelations as to how young maids comport themselves in boarding school!

  The lightness with which this kind of play was looked upon may be judged from the following: An English girl named Mercy, daughter of a wealthy British importer of tobacco, received naughty pictures and novels by post from a girl in Paris. One day, between the pages of a novel received from this source, she found a "French letter" or condom. This interesting but under the circumstances entirely useless gift was passed from hand to hand amid general laughter. A few nights later, another girl, a lively little French mademoiselle, upon turning back the sheets of her couch preparatory to retiring, found between them a banana of ample dimensions over which the rubber condom had been stretched.

  Brandishing the rubber clad banana in her hand, she announced that she was going to "get" the girl she suspected of perpetrating the joke. Accompanied by several of her friends Rosita slipped into the dormitory where the object of the intended assault was just getting into bed. Waving the banana in the girl's face she exclaimed:

 

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