Path: not-for-mail
NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 21 Jan 2004 00:32:54 -0600
From: "Mr. Hat" <mrhat@sauna.brettfavre.net>
Newsgroups: alt.flame.fucking.faggots,alt.sex.stories,alt.satanism,alt.religion.jehovahs-witn
Subject: Marquis de Sade - The 120 Days of Sodom
Date: Wed, 21 Jan 2004 00:32:49 -0600
X-Priority: 3
X-MSMail-Priority: Normal
X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1158
X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1165
Message-ID: <nYKdnXIBgu2KgJPdRVn-vg@bravo.net>
Lines: 14850
NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.251.70.66
X-Trace: sv3-kXolcAd4BNQ2QZsPllNq3zZhioRpq8RUvD6U0ka1wtHYAEaO4zrm/ivZe+xaOCGq6MHiFCQVbuAq6Wl!GaLNuzXXQ/FIeNcFjbeXb1hL2rsCv+uwOUhxFuqKmyoX2yOuJ8P8BL8YkdKneKXsP5+WKw==
X-Complaints-To: abuse@bravo.net
X-DMCA-Complaints-To: abuse@bravo.net
X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Please be sure to forward a copy of ALL headers
X-Abuse-and-DMCA-Info: Otherwise we will be unable to process your complaint properly
X-Postfilter: 1.1

===================

Marquis de Sade - The 120 Days of Sodom (1785)
Translated by Austryn Wainhouse and Richard Seaver


INTRODUCTION
     The extensive wars wherewith Louis XIV was burdened during his reign,
while draining the State's treasury and exhausting the substance of the
people, none the less contained the secret that led to the prosperity of a
swarm of those bloodsuckers who are always on the watch for public
calamities, which, instead of appeasing, they promote or invent so as,
precisely, to be able to profit from them the more advantageously. The end
of this so very sublime reign was perhaps one of the periods in the history
of the French Empire when one saw the emergence of the greatest number of
these mysterious fortunes whose origins are as obscure as the lust and
debauchery that accompany them. It was toward the close of this period, and
not long before the Regent sought, by means of the famous tribunal which
goes under the name of the Chambre de Justice, to flush this multitude of
traffickers, that four of them conceived the idea for the singular revels
whereof we are going to give an account. One must not suppose that it was
exclusively the low-born and vulgar sort which did this swindling;
gentlemen of the highest note led the pack. The Duc de Blangis and his
brother the Bishop of X***, each of whom had thuswise amassed immense
fortunes, are in themselves solid proof that, like the others, the nobility
neglected no opportunities to take this road to wealth. These two
illustrious figures, through their pleasures and business closely
associated with the celebrated Durcet and the President de Curval, were the
first to hit upon the debauch we propose to chronicle, and having
communicated the scheme to their two friends, all four agreed to assume the
major roles in these unusual orgies.
     For above six years these four libertines, kindred through their
wealth and tastes, had thought to strengthen their ties by means of
alliances in which debauchery had by far a heavier part than any of the
other motives that ordinarily serve as a basis for such bonds. What they
arranged was as follows: the Duc de Blangis, thrice a widower and sire of
two daughters one wife had given him, having noticed that the President de
Curval appeared interested in marrying the elder of these girls, despite
the familiarities he knew perfectly well her father had indulged in with
her, the Duc, I say, suddenly conceived the idea of a triple alliance.
     "You want Julie for your wife," said he to Curval, "I give her to you
unhesitatingly and put but one condition to the match: that you'll not be
jealous when, although your wife, she continues to show me the same
complaisance she always has in the past; what is more, I'd have you lend
your voice to mine in persuading our good Durcet to give me his daughter
Constance, for whom, I must confess, I have developed roughly the same
feelings you have formed for Julie."
     "But," said Curval, "you are surely aware that Durcet, just as
libertine as you..."
     "I know all that's to be known," the Duc rejoined. "In this age, and
with our manner of thinking, is one halted by such things? do you think I
seek a wife in order to have a mistress? I want a wife that my whims may be
served, I want her to veil, to cover an infinite number of little secret
debauches the cloak of marriage wonderfully conceals. In a word, I want her
for the reasons you want my daughter - do you fancy I am ignorant of your
object and desires? We libertines wed women to hold slaves: as wives they
are rendered more submissive than mistresse, and you know the value we set
upon despotism in the joys we pursue."
     It was at this point Durcet entered. His two friends related their
conversation and, delighted by an overture which promptly induced him to
avow the sentiments he too had conceived for Adelaide, the President's,
Durcet accepted the Duc as his son-in-law, provided he might become
Curval's. The three marriages were speedily concluded, the dowries were
immense, the wedding contracts identical.
     No less culpable than his two colleagues, the President had admitted
to Durcet, who betrayed no displeasure upon learning it, that he maintained
a little clandestine commerce with his own daughter; the three fathers,
each wishing not only to preserve his rights, but noticing here the
possibility of extending them, commonly agreed that the three young ladies,
bound to their husbands by goods and homes only, would not in body belong
more to one than to any of them, and the severest punishments were
prescribed for her who should take it into her head not to comply with any
of the conditions whereunto she was subject.
     They were on the eve of realizing their plan when the Bishop of X***,
already closebound through pleasure shared with his brother's two friends,
proposed contributing a fourth element to the alliance should the other
three gentlemen consent to his participation in the affair. This element,
the Duc's second daughter and hence the Bishop's niece, was already more
thoroughly his property than was generally imagined. He had effected
connections with his sister-in-law and the two brothers knew beyond all
shadow of doubt that the existence of this maiden, who was called Aline,
was far more accurately to be ascribed to the Bishop than to the Duc; the
former who, from the time she left the cradle, had taken the girl into his
keeping, had not, as one may well suppose, stood idle as the years brought
her charms to flower. And so, upon this head, he was his colleagues' equal,
and the article he offered to put on the market was in an equal degree
damaged or degraded; but as Aline's attractions and tender youth outshone
even those of her three companions, she was unhesitatingly made a part of
the bargain. As had the other three, the Bishop yielded her up, but
retained the rights to her use; and so each of our four characters thus
found himself husband to four wives. Thus there resulted an arrangement
which, for the reader's convenience, we shall recapitulate:
     The Duc, Julie's father, became the husband of Constance, Durcet's
daughter;
     Durcet, Constance's father, became the husband of Adelaide, the
President's daughter;
     The President, Adelaide's father, became the husband of Julie, the
Duc's elder daughter;
     And the Bishop, Aline's uncle and father, became the husband of the
other three females by ceding this same Aline to his friends, the while
retaining the same rights over her.
     It was at a superb estate of the Duc, situated in the Bourbonnais,
that these happy matches were made, and I leave to the reader to fancy how
they were consummated and in what orgies; obliged as we are to describe
others, we shall forego the pleasure of picturing these.
     Upon their return to Paris, our four friends' association became only
the firmer; and as our next task is to make the reader familiar with them,
before proceeding to individual and more searching developments, a few
details of their lubricious arrangements will serve, it seems to me, to
shed a preliminary light upon the character of these debauchees.
     The society had created a common fund, which each of its members took
his turn administering for six months; the sums, allocated for nothing but
expenses in the interests of pleasure, were vast. Their excessive wealth
put the most unusual things within their reach, and the reader ought not be
surprised to hear that two million were annually disbursed to obtain good
cheer and lust's satisfaction.
     Four accomplished procuresses to recruit women, and a similar number
of pimps to scout out men, had the sole duty to range both the capital and
the provinces and bring back everything, in the one gender and in the
other, that could best satisfy their sensuality's demands. Four supper
parties were held regularly every week in four different country houses
located at four extremities of Paris. At the first of these gatherings, the
one exclusively given over to the pleasures of sodomy, only men were
present; there would always be at hand sixteen young men, ranging in age
from twenty to thirty, whose immense faculties permitted our four heroes,
in feminine guise, to taste the most agreeable delights. The youths were
selected solely upon the basis of the size of their member, and it almost
became necessary that this superb limb be of such magnificence that it
could never have penetrated any woman; this was an essential clause, and as
naught was spared by way of expense, only very rarely would it fail to be
fulfilled. But simultaneously to sample every pleasure, to these sixteen
husbands was joined the same quantity of boys, much younger, whose purpose
was to assume the office of women. These lads were from twelve to eighteen
years old, and to be chosen for service each had to possess a freshness, a
face, graces, charms, an air, an innocence, a candor which are far beyond
what our brush could possibly paint. No woman was admitted to these
masculine orgies, in the course of which everything of the lewdest invented
in Sodom and Gomorrah was executed.
     At the second supper were girls of superior class who, upon these
occasions forced to give up their proud ostentation and the customary
insolence of their bearing, were constrained, in return for their hire, to
abandon themselves to the most irregular caprices, and often even to the
outrages our libertines were pleased to inflict upon them. Twelve of these
girls would appear, and as Paris could not have furnished a fresh supply of
them as often as would have been necessary, these evenings were inters-
persed with others at which were admitted, only in the same number as the
well-bred ladies, women ranging from procuresses up through the class of
officers' wives. There are above four or five thousand in Paris who belong
to one or the other of the two latter classes and whom need or lust obliges
to attend soirees of this kind; one has but to have good agents to find
them, and our libertines, who were splendidly represented, would frequently
come across miraculous specimens. But it was in vain one was honest or a
decent woman, one had to submit everything: our Lordships' libertinage, of
a variety that never brooks limits, would overwhelm with horrors and
infamies whatever, whether by Nature or social convention, ought to have
been exempt from such ordeals. Once one was there, one had to be ready for
anything, and as our four villains had every taste that accompanies the
lowest, most crapulous debauch, this fundamental acquiescence to their
desires was not by any means a matter of inconsequence.
     The guests at the third supper were the vilest, foulest creatures that
can possibly be met with. To him who has some acquaintance with
debauchery's extravagances, this refinement will appear wholly
understandable; 'tis most voluptuous to wallow, so to speak, in filth with
persons of this category; these exercises offer the completest abandon, the
most monstrous intemperance, the most total abasement, and these pleasures,
compared with those tasted the evening before, or with the distinguished
individuals in whose company we have tasted them, have a way of lending a
sharp spice to earlier activities. At these third suppers, debauch being
more thorough, nothing was omitted that might render it complex and
piquant. A hundred whores would appear in the course of six hours, and only
too often something less than the full hundred would leave the games. But
there is nothing to be gained by hurrying our story or by broaching
subjects which can only receive adequate treatment in the sequel.
     As for the fourth supper, it was reserved for young maids; only those
between the ages of seven and fifteen were permitted. Their condition in
life was of no importance, what counted was their looks: they had to be
charming; as for their virginity, authentic evidence was required. Oh,
incredible refinement of libertinage! It was not, assuredly, that they
wished to pluck all those roses, and how indeed could they have done so?
for those untouched flowers were always a score in number, and of our four
libertines only two were capable of proceeding to the act, one of the
remaining two, the financier, being absolutely incapable of an erection,
and the Bishop being absolutely unable to take his pleasure save in a
fashion which, yes, I agree, may dishonor a virgin but which, however,
always leaves her perfectly intact. No matter; the twenty maiden-heads had
to be there, and those which were not impaired by our quartet of masters
became, before their eyes, the prey of certain of their valets just as
depraved as they, whom they kept constantly at beck and call for more than
one reason.
     Apart from these four supper parties there was another, a secret and
private one held every Friday, involving many fewer persons but surely
costing a great deal more. The participants were restricted to four young
and high-born damsels who, by means of strategy and money, had been
abducted from their parents' homes. Our libertines' wives nearly always had
a share in this debauch, and their extreme submissiveness, their docile
attentions, their services made it more of a success each time. As for the
genial atmosphere at these suppers, it goes without saying that even
greater profusion than delicacy reigned there; not one of these meals cost
less than ten thousand francs, and neighboring countries as well as all
France were ransacked so that what was of the rarest and most exquisite
might be assembled together. Fine and abundant wines and liqueurs were
there, and even during the winter they had fruits of every season; in a
word, one may be certain that the table of the world's greatest monarch was
not dressed with as much luxury nor served with equal magnificence.
     But now let us retrace our steps and do our best to portray one by one
each of our four heroes - to describe each not in terms of the beautiful,
not in a manner that would seduce or captivate the reader, but simply with
the brush strokes of Nature which, despite all her disorder, is often
sublime, indeed even when she is at her most depraved. For - and why not
say so in passing - if crime lacks the kind of delicacy one finds in
virtue, is not the former always more sublime, does it not unfailingly have
a character of grandeur and sublimity which surpasses, and will always make
it preferable to, the monotonous and lackluster charms of virtue? Will you
protest the greater usefulness of this or of that, is it for us to scan
Nature's laws, ours to determine whether, vice being just as necessary to
Nature as is virtue, she perhaps does not implant in us, in equal quantity,
the penchant for one or the other, depending upon her respective needs? But
let us proceed.
     The Duc de Blangis, at eighteen the master of an already colossal
fortune which his later speculations much increased, experienced all the
difficulties which descend like a cloud of locusts upon a rich and
influental young man who need not deny himself anything; it almost always
happens in such cases that the extent of one's vices, and one stints
oneself that much less the more one has the means to procure oneself
everything. Had the Duc received a few elementary qualities from Nature,
they might possibly have counter-balanced the dangers which beset him in
his position, but this curious mother, who sometimes seems to collaborate
with chance in order that the latter may favor every vice she gives to
those certain beings of whom she expects attentions very different from
those virtue supposes, and this because she has just as much need of the
one as of the other, Nature, I say, in destining Blangis for immense
wealth, had meticulously endowed him with every impulse, every inspiration
required for its abuse. Together with a tenebrous and very evil mind, she
had accorded him a heart of flint and an utterly criminal soul, and these
were accompanied by the disorders in tastes and irregularity of whim whence
were born the dreadful libertinage to which the Duc was in no common
measure addicted. Born treacherous, harsh, imperious, barbaric, selfish as
lavish in the pursuit of pleasure as miserly when it were a question of
useful spending, a liar, a gourmand, a drunk, a dastard, a sodomite, fond
of incest, given to murdering, to arson, to theft, no, not a single virtue
compensated that host of vices. Why, what am I saying! not only did he
never so much as dream of a single virtue, he beheld them all with horror,
and he was frequently heard to say that to be truly happy in this world a
man ought not merely fling himself into every vice, but should never permit
himself one virtue, and that it was not simply a matter of always doing
evil, but also and above all of never doing good.
"Oh, there are plenty of people," the Duc used to observe, "who never
misbehave save when passion spurs them to ill; later, the fire gone out of
them, their now calm spirit peacefully returns to the path of virtue and,
thus passing their life going from strife to error and from error to
remorse, they end their days in such a way there is no telling just what
roles they have enacted on earth. Such persons," he would continue, "must
surely be miserable: forever drifting, continually undecided, their entire
life is spent detesting in the morning what they did the evening before.
Certain to repent of the pleasures they taste, they take their delight in
quaking, in such sort they become at once virtuous in crime and criminal in
virtue. However,"our hero would add, "my more solid character is a stranger
to these contradictions; I do my choosing without hesitation, and as I am
always sure to find pleasure in the choice I make, never does regret arise
to dull its charm. Firm in my principles because those I formed are sound
and were formed very early, I always act in accordance with them; they have
made me understand the emptiness and nullity of virtue; I hate virtue, and
never will I be seen resorting to it. They have persuaded me that through
vice alone is man capable of experiencing this moral and physical vibration
which is the source of the most delicious voluptuousness; so I give myself
over to vice. I was still very young when I learned to hold religion's
fantasies in contempt, being perfectly convinced that the existence of a
creator is a revolting absurdity in which not even children continue to
believe. I have no need to thwart my inclinations in order to flatter some
god; these instincts were given me by Nature, and it would be to irritate
her were I to resist them; if she gave me bad ones, that is because they
were necessary to her designs. I am in her hands but a machine which she
runs as she likes, and not one of my crimes does not serve her: the more
she urges me to commit them, the more of them she needs; I should be a fool
to disobey her. Thus, nothing but the law stands in my way, but I defy the
law, my gold and my prestige keep me well beyond reach of those vulgar
instruments of repression which should be employed only upon the common
sort." If one were to raise the objection that, nevertheless, all men
possess ideas of the just and the unjust which can only be the product of
Nature, since these notions are found in every people and even amongst the
uncivilized, the Duc would reply affirmatively, saying that yes, those
ideas have never been anything if not relative, that the stronger has
always considered exceedingly just what the weaker regarded as flagrantly
unjust, and that it takes no more than the mere reversal of their positions
for each to be able to change his way of thinking too; whence the Duc would
conclude that nothing is really just but what makes for pleasure, and what
is unjust is the cause of pain; that in taking a hundred louis from a man's
pocket, he was doing something very just for himself, although the victim
of the robbery might have to regard the action with another eye; that all
these notions therefore being very arbitrary, a fool he who would allow
himself to become their thrall. It was by means of arguments in this kind
the Duc used to justify his trans-gressions, and as he was a man of
greatest possible wit, his arguments had a decisive ring. And so, modeling
his conduct upon his philosophy, the Duc had, from his most tender youth,
abandoned himself unrestrainedly to the most shameful extravagances, and to
the most extraordinary ones. His father, having died young and, as I
indicated, left him in control of a huge fortune, had however stipulated in
his will that the young man's mother should, while she lived, be allowed to
enjoy a large share of this legacy. Such a condition was not in displeasing
Blangis: poison appearing to be the only way to avoid having to subscribe
to this article, the knave straightway decided to make use of it. But this
was the period when he was only making his first steps in a vicious career;
not daring to act himself, he brought one of his sisters, with whom he was
carrying on a criminal intrigue, to take charge of the execution, assuring
her that if she were to succeed, he would see to it that she would be the
beneficiary of that part of the fortune whereof death would deprive their
mother. However, the young lady was horrified by this proposal, and the
Duc, observing that this ill-confided secret was perhaps going to betray
him, decided on the spot to extend his plans to include the sister he had
hoped to have for an accomplice; he conducted both women to one of his
properties whence the two unfortunate ones never returned. Nothing quite
encourages as does one's first unpunished crime. This hurdle once cleared,
an open field seemed to beckon to the Duc. Immediately any person
whomsoever showed opposition to his desires, poison was employed forthwith.
From necessary murders he soon passed to those of pure pleasure; he was
captivated by that regrettable folly which causes us to find delight in the
sufferings of others; he noticed that a violent commotion inflicted upon
any kind of an adversary is answered by a vibrant thrill in our own nervous
system; the effect of this vibration, arousing the animal spirits which
flow within these nerves' con-cavities, obliges them to exert pressure on
the erector nerves and to produce in accordance with this perturbation what
is termed a lubricious sensation. Consequently, he set about committing
thefts and murders in the name of debauchery and libertinage, just as
someone else would be content, in order to inflame these same passions, to
chase a whore or two. At the age of twenty-three, he and three of his
companions in vice, whom he had indoctrinated with his philosophy, made up
a party whose aim was to go out and stop a public coach on the highway, to
rape the men among the travelers along with the women, to assassinate them
afterward, to make off with their victims' money (the conspirators
certainly had no need of this), and to be back that same night, all three
of them, at the Opera Ball in order to have a sound alibi. This crime took
place, ah, yes: two charming maids were violated and massacred in their
mother's arms; to this was joined an endless list of other horrors, and no
one dared suspect the Duc. Weary of the delightful wife his father had
bestowed upon him before dying, the young Blangis wasted no time uniting
her shade to his mother's, to his sister's, and to those of all his other
victims. Why all this? to be able to marry a girl, wealthy, to be sure, but
publicly dishonored and whom he knew full well was her brother's mistress.
The person in question was the mother of Aline, one of the figures in our
novel we mentioned above. This second wife, soon sacrificed like the first,
gave way to a third, who followed hard on the heels of the second. It was
rumored abroad that the Duc's huge construction was responsible for the
undoing of all his wives, and as this gigantic tale corresponded in every
point to its gigantic inspiration, the Duc let the opinion take root and
veil the truth. That dreadful colossus did indeed make one think of
Hercules or a centaur: Blangis stood five foot eleven inches tall, had
limbs of great strength and energy, powerful sinews, elastic nerves, in
addition to that a proud and masculine visage, great dark eyes, handsome
black eyelashes, an aquiline nose, fine teeth, a quality of health and
exuberance, broad shoulders, a heavy chest but a well-proportioned figure
withal, splendid hips, superb buttocks, the handsomest leg in the world, an
iron temperament, the strength of a horse, the member of a veritable mule,
wondrously hirsute, blessed with the ability to eject its sperm any number
of times within a given day and at will, even at the age of fifty, which
was his age at the time, a virtually constant erection in this member whose
dimensions were an exact eight inches for circumference and twelve for
length over-all, and there you have the portrait of the Duc de Blangis,
drawn as accurately as if you'd wielded the pencil yourself. But if this
masterpiece of Nature was violent in its desires, what was it like, Great
God! when crowned by drunken voluptuousness? 'Twas a man no longer, 'twas a
raging tiger. Woe unto him who happened then to be serving its passions;
frightful cries, atrocious blasphemies sprang from the Duc's swollen
breast, flames seemed to dart from his eyes, he foamed at the mouth, he
whinnied like a stallion, you'd have taken him for the very god of lust.
Whatever then was his manner of having his pleasure, his hands necessarily
strayed, roamed continually, and he had been more than once seen to
strangle woman to death at the instant of his perfidious discharge. His
presence of mind once restored, his frenzy was immediately replaced by the
most complete indifference to the infamies wherewith he had just indulged
himself, and of this indifference, of this kind of apathy, further sparks
of lechery would be born almost at once.
     In his youth, the Duc had been known to discharge as often as eighteen
times a day, and that without appearing one jot more fatigued after the
final than after the initial ejaculation. Seven or eight crises within the
same interval still held no terrors for him, his half a century of years
notwithstanding. For roughly twenty-five years he had accustomed himself to
passive sodomy, and he withstood its assaults with the identical vigor
characterized his manner of delivering them actively when, the very next
moment, it pleased him to exchange roles. He had once wagered he could
sustain fifty-five attacks in a day, and so he had. Furnished, as we have
pointed out, with prodigious strength, he needed only one hand to violate a
girl, and he had proved it upon several occasions. One day he boasted he
could squeeze the life out of a horse with his legs; he mounted the beast,
it collapsed at the instant he had predicted. His prowess at the table
outshone, if that is possible, what he demonstrated upon the bed. There's
no imagining what had come to be the quantity of the food he consumed. He
regularly ate three meals a day, and they were all three exceedingly
prolonged and exceedingly copious, and it was as nothing to him to toss
down his usual ten bottles of Burgundy; he had drunk up to thirty, and
needed but to be challenged and he would set out for the mark of fifty; but
his intoxication taking on the tinge of his passions, and liqueurs or wines
having heated his brain, he would wax furious, and they would be obliged to
tie him down. And despite all that, would you believe it? a steadfast child
might have hurled this giant into a panic; true indeed it is that the
spirit often poorly corresponds with the fleshy sheath enveloping it: as
soon as Blangis discovered he could no longer use his treachery or his
deceit to make away with his enemy, he would become timid and cowardly, and
the mere thought of even the mildest combat, but fought on equal terms,
would have sent him fleeing to the ends of the earth. He had nevertheless,
in keeping with custom, been in one or two campaigns, but had acquitted
himself so disgracefully he had retired from the service at once.
Justifying his turpitude with equal amounts of cleverness and effrontery,
he loudly proclaimed that his poltroonery being nothing other than the
desire to preserve himself, it were perfectly impossible for anyone in his
right senses to condemn it for a fault.
     Keep in mind the identical moral traits; next, adapt them to an entity
from the physical point of view infinitely inferior to the one we just
described; there you have the portrait of the Bishop of X***, the Duc de
Blangis' brother. The same black soul, the same penchant for crime, the
same contempt for religion, the same atheism, the same deception and
cunning, a yet more supple and adroit mind, however, and more art in
guiding his victims to their doom, but a slender figure, not heavy, no, a
little thin body, wavering health, very delicate nerves, a greater
fastidiousness in the pursuit of pleasure, mediocre prowess, a most
ordinary member, even small, but deft, profoundly skilled in management,
each time yielding so little that his incessantly inflamed imagination
would render him capable of tasting delight quite as frequently as his
brother; his sensations were of a remarkable acuteness, he would experience
an irritation so prodigious he would often fall into a deep swoon upon
discharging, and he almost always temporarily lost consciousness when doing
so.
     He was forty-five, had delicate features, rather attractive eyes but a
foul mouth and ugly teeth, a hairless pallid body, a small but well-shaped
ass, and a prick five inches around and six in length. An idolater of
active and passive sodomy, but eminently of the latter, he spent his life
having himself buggered, and this pleasure, which never requires much
expense of energy, was best suited to the modesty of his means. We will
speak of his other tastes in good time. With what regards those of the
table, he carried them nearly as far as the Duc, but went about the matter
with somewhat more sensuality. Monseigneur, no less a criminal than his
elder brother, possessed characteristics which had doubtless permitted him
to match the celebrated feats of the hero we painted a moment ago; we will
content ourselves with citing one of them, 'twill be enough to make the
reader see of what such a man may be capable, and what he was prepared and
disposed to do, having done the following:
     One of his friends, a man powerful and rich, had formerly had an
intrigue with a young noblewoman who had borne him two children, a girl and
a boy. He had, however, never been able to wed her, and the maiden had
become another's wife. The unlucky girl's lover died while still young, but
the owner howbeit of a tremendous fortune; having no kin to provide for, it
occurred to him to bequeath all he had to the two ill-fated children his
affair had produced.
     On his deathbed, he made the Bishop privy to his intentions and
entrusted him with these two immense endowments: he divided the sum, put
them in two purses, and gave them to the Bishop, confiding the two orphans'
education to this man of God and enlisting him to pass on to each what was
to be his when they attained their majority. At the same time he enjoyed
the prelate to invest his wards' funds, so that in the meantime they would
double in size. He also affirmed that it was his design to leave his
offsprings' mother in eternal ignorance of what he was doing for them, and
he absolutely insisted that none of this should ever be mentioned to her.
These arrangements concluded, the dying man closed his eyes, and
Monseigneur found himself master of about a million in banknotes, and of
two children. The scoundrel was not long deliberating his next step: the
dying man had spoken to no one but him, the mother was to know nothing, the
children were only four or five years old. He circulated the intelligence
that his friend, upon expiring, had left his fortune to the poor; the
rascal acquired it the same day. But to ruin those wretched children did
not suffice; furnished with authority by their father, the Bishop - who
never committed one crime without instantly conceiving another - had the
children removed from the remote pension in which they were being brought
up, and placed them under the roof of certain people in his hire, from the
outset having resolved soon to make them serve his perfidious lust. He
waited until they were thirteen; the little boy was the first to arrive at
that age: the Bishop put him to use, bent him to all his debauches, and as
he was extremely pretty, sported with him for a week. But the little girl
fared less well: she reached the prescribed age, but was very ugly, a fact
which had no mitigating effect upon the good Bishop's lubricious fury. His
desires appeased, he feared lest these children, left alive, would someday
discover something of the secret of their interests. Therefore, he
conducted them to an estate belonging to his brother and, sure of
recapturing, by means of a new crime, the sparks of lechery enjoyment had
just caused him to lose, he immolated both of them to his ferocious
passions, and accompanied their death with episodes so piquant and so cruel
that his voluptuousness was reborn in the midst of the torments wherewith
he beset them. The thing is, unhappily, only too well known: there is no
libertine at least a little steeped in vice who is not aware of the great
sway murder exerts over the senses, and how voluptuously it determines a
discharge. And that is a general truth whereof it were well the reader be
early advised before undertaking the perusal of a work which will surely
attempt an ample development of this system.
     Henceforth at ease in the face of whatever might transpire,
Monseigneur returned to Paris to enjoy the fruit of his misdeeds, and
without the least qualms about having counteracted the intentions of a man
who, in his present situation, was in no state to derive either pain or
pleasure therefrom.
     The President de Curval was a pillar of society; almost sixty years of
age, and worn by debauchery to a singular degree, he offered the eye not
much more than a skeleton. He was tall, he was dry, thin, had two blue
lusterless eyes, a livid and unwholesome mouth, a prominent chin, a long
nose. Hairy as a satyr, flat-backed, with slack, drooping buttocks that
rather resembled a pair of dirty rags flapping upon his upper thighs; the
skin of those buttocks was, thanks to whipstrokes, so deadened and
toughened that you could seize up a handful and knead it without his
feeling a thing. In the center of it all there was displayed - no need to
spread those cheeks - an immense orifice whose enormous diameter, odor, and
color bore a closer resemblance to the depths of a well-freighted privy
than to an asshole; and, crowning touch to these allurements, there was
numbered among this sodomizing pig's little idiosyncrasies that of always
leaving this particular part of himself in such a state of uncleanliness
that one was at all times able to observe there a rim or pad a good two
inches thick. Below a belly as wrinkled as it was livid and gummy, one
perceived, within a forest of hairs, a tool which, in its erectile
condition, might have been about eight inches long and seven around; but
this condition had come to be the most rare and to procure it a furious
sequence of things was the necessary preliminary. Nevertheless, the event
occurred at least two or three times each week, and upon these occasions
the President would glide into every hole to be found, indiscriminately,
although that of a young lad's behind was infinitely the most precious to
him. The head of the President's device was now at all times exposed, for
he had had himself circumcised, a ceremony which largely facilitates
enjoyment and to which all pleasure-loving persons ought to submit. But one
of the purposes of the same operation is to keep this privity cleaner;
nothing of the sort in Curval's case: this part of him was just as filthy
as the other: this uncapped head, naturally quite thick to begin with, was
thus made at least an inch ampler in circumference. Similarly untidy about
all the rest of his person, the President, who furthermore had tastes at
the very least as nasty as his appearance, had become a figure whose rather
malodorous vicinity might not have succeeded in pleasing everyone. However,
his colleagues were not at all of the sort to be scandalized by such
trifles, and they simply avoided discussing the matter with him. Few
mortals had been as free in their behavior or as debauches as the
President; but, entirely jaded, absolutely besotted, all that remained to
him was the depravation and lewd profligacy of libertinage. Above three
hours of excess, and of the most outrageous excess, were needed before one
could hope to inspire a voluptous reaction in him. As for his emission,
although in Curval the phenomenon was far more frequent than erection, and
could be observed once every day, it was, all the same, so difficult to
obtain, or it never occurred save as an aftermath to things so strange and
often so cruel or so unclean, that the agents of his pleasure not
uncommonly renounced the struggle, fainting by the wayside, the which would
give birth in him to a kind of lubricious anger and this, through its
effects, would now and again triumph where his efforts had failed. Curval
was to such a point mired down in the morass of vice and libertinage that
it had become virtually impossible for him to think or speak of anything
else. He unendingly had the most appalling expressions in his mouth, just
as he had the vilest designs in his heart, and these with surpassing energy
he mingled with blasphemies and imprecations supplied him by his true
horror, a sentiment he shared with his companions, for everything that
smacked of religion. This disorder of mind, yet further augmented by the
almost continual intoxication in which he was fond of keeping himself, had
during the past few years given him an air of imbecility and prostration
which, he would declare, made for his most cherished delight.
     Born as great a gourmand as a drunk, he alone was fit to keep abreast
of the Duc, and in the course of this tale we will behold him to perform
wonders which will no doubt astonish the most veteran eaters.
     It had been ten years since Curval had ceased to discharge his
judicial duties; it was not simply that he was no longer fit to carry them
out, but I even believe that while he had been, he may have been asked to
leave these matters alone for the rest of his life.
     Curval had led a very libertine life, every sort of perversion was
familiar to him, and those who knew him personally had the strong suspicion
he owed his vast fortune to nothing other than two or three murders.
However that may be, it is, in the light of the following story, highly
probable that this variety of extravagance had the power to stir him
deeply, and it is this adventure, which attracted some unfortunate
publicity, that was responsible for his exclusion from the Court. We are
going to relate the episode in order to give the reader an idea of his
character.
     There dwelled in the neighborhood of Curval's town house a miserable
street porter who, the father of a charming little girl, was ridiculous
enough to be a person of sensibility. Twenty messages of every kind had
already arrived containing proposals relating to the poor fellow's
daughter; he and his wife had remained unshaken despite this barrage aimed
at their corruption, and Curval, the source of these embassies, only
irritated by the growing number of refusals they had evoked, knew not what
tack to take in order to get his hands upon the girl and to subject her to
his libidinous caprices, until it struck to him that by simply having the
father broken he would lead the daughter to his bed. The thing was as
nicely conceived as executed. Two or three bullies in the President's pay
intervened in the suit, and before the month was out, the wretched porter
was enmeshed in an imaginary crime which seemed to have been committed at
his door and which got him speedily lodged in one of the Conciergerie's
dungeons. The President, as one would expect, soon took charge of the case,
and, having no desire to permit it to drag on, arranged in the space of
three days, thanks to his knavery and his gold, to have the unlucky porter
condemned to be broken on the wheel, without the culprit ever having
committed any crime but that of wishing to preserve his honor and safeguard
his daughter's.
     Meanwhile, the solicitations were renewed. The mother was brought in,
it was explained to her that she alone had it in her power to save her
husband, that if she were to satisfy the President, what could be clearer
than that he would thereupon snatch her husband from the dreadful fate
awaiting him. Further hesitation was impossible; the woman made inquiries;
Curval knew perfectly well to whom she addressed herself, the counsels were
his creatures, and they gave her unambiguous replies: she ought not waste a
moment. The poor woman herself brought her daughter weeping to her judge's
feet; the latter could not have been more liberal with his promises, nor
have been less eager to keep his word. Not only did he fear lest, were he
to deal honorably and spare the husband, the man might go and raise an
uproar upon discovering the price that had been paid to save his life, but
the scoundrel even found a further delight, a yet keener one, in arranging
to have himself given what he wished without being obliged to make any
return.
     This thought led to others; numerous criminal possibilities entered
his head, and their effect was to increase his perfidious lubricity. And
this is how he set about the matter so as to put the maximum of infamy and
piquancy into the scene:
     His mansion stood facing a spot where criminals are sometimes executed
in Paris, and as this particular offense had been committed in that quarter
of the city, he won assurance the punishment would be meted out on this
particular square. The wretch's wife and daughter arrived at the
President's home at the appointed hour; all windows overlooking the square
were well shuttered, so that, from the apartments where he amused himself
with his victims, nothing at all could be seen of what was going on
outside. Apprised of the exact minute of the execution, the rascal selected
it for the deflowering of the little girl who was held in her mother's
arms, and everything was so happily arranged that Curval discharged into
the child's ass the moment her father expired. Instantly he'd completed his
business, "Come have a look," quoth he, opening a window looking upon the
square, "come see how well I've kept my bargain," and one of his two
princesses saw her father, the other her husband, delivering up his soul to
the headsman's steel.
     Both collapsed in a faint, but Curval had provided for everything:
this swoon was their agony, they'd both been poisoned, and nevermore opened
their eyes. Notwithstanding the precautions he had taken to swathe the
whole of this exploit in the most profound mystery, something did indeed
transpire: nothing was known of the women's death, but there existed a
lively suspicion he had been untruthful in connection with the husband's
case. His motive was half-known, and his eventual retirement from the bench
was the outcome. As of this moment, no longer having to maintain
appearances, Curval flung himself into a new ocean of errors and crimes. He
sent everywhere for victims to sacrifice to the perversity of his tastes.
Through an atrocious refinement of cruelty, but one, however, very easily
understood, the downtrodden classes were those upon which he most enjoyed
hurling the effects of his raging perfidy. He had several minions who were
abroad night and day, scouring attics and hovels, tracking down whatever of
the most destitute misery might be able to provide, and under the pretext
of dispensing aid, either he envenomed his catch - to give poison was one
of his most delectable pastimes - or he lured it to his house and slew it
upon the altar of his perverse preferences. Men, women, children: anything
was fuel to his rage, and at its bidding he performed excesses which would
have got his head between block and blade a thousand times over were it not
for the silver he distributed and the esteem he enjoyed, factors whereby he
was a thousand times protected. One may well imagine such a being had no
more religion than his two confreres; he without doubt detested it as
sovereignly as they, but in years past had done more to wither it in
others, for, in the days when his mind had been sound, it had also been
clever, and he had put it to good use writing against religion; he was the
author of a several works whose influence had been prodigious, and these
successes, always present in his memory, still constituted one of his
dearest delights.
     The more we multiply the objects of our enjoyments...(the portrait of
Durcet)
     (a) ...the years of a sickly childhood.
     Durcet is fifty-three; he is small, short, broad, thickset; an
agreeable, hearty face; a very white skin; his entire body, and principally
his hips and buttocks, absolutely like a woman's; his ass is cool and
fresh, chubby, firm, and dimpled, but excessively agape, owing to the habit
of sodomy; his prick is extraordinarily small, 'tis scarcely two inches
around, no more than four inches long; it has entirely ceased to stiffen;
his discharges are rare and uneasy, far from abundant and always preceded
by spasms which hurl him into a kind of furor which, in turn, conducts him
to crime; he has a chest like a woman's, a sweet, pleasant voice and, when
in society, the best-bred manners, although his mind is without question as
depraved as his colleagues'; a schoolmate of the Duc, they still sport
together every day, and one of Durcet's loftiest pleasures is to have his
anus tickled by the Duc's enormous member.
     And such, dear reader, are the four villains in whose company I am
going to have you pass a few months. I have done my best to describe them;
if, as I have wished, I have made you familiar with even their most secret
depths, nothing in the tale of their various follies will astonish you. I
have not been able to enter into minute detail with what regards their
tastes - to have done so now would have been to impair the value and to
harm the main scheme of this work. But as we move progressively along, you
will have but to keep an attentive eye upon our heroes, and you'll have no
trouble discerning their characteristic peccadillos and the particular type
of voluptuous mania which best suits each of them. Roughly all we can say
at the present time is that they were generally susceptible of an
enthusiasm for sodomy, that the four of them had themselves buggered
regularly, and that they all four worshiped behinds.
     The Duc, however, relative to the immensity of his weapon and,
doubtless, more through cruelty than from taste, still fucked cunts with
the greatest pleasure.
     So also did the President, but less frequently.
     As for the Bishop, such was his supreme loathing for them the mere
sight of one might have kept him limp for six months. He had never in all
his life fucked but one, that belonging to his sister-in-law, and expressly
to beget a child wherewith some day to procure himself the pleasures of
incest; we have seen how well he succeeded.
     As regards Durcet, he certainly idolized the ass with as much fervor
as the Bishop, but his enjoyment of it was more accessory; his favorite
attacks were directed toward a third sanctuary - this mystery will be
unveiled in the sequel. But on with the portraits essential to the
intelligence of this work, and let us now give our reader an idea of these
worthy husbands' four wives.
     What a contrast! Constance, the Duc's wife and the daughter of Durcet,
was a tall woman, slender, lovely as a picture, and modeled as if the
Graces had taken pleasure in embellishing her, but the elegance of her
figure in no way detracted from her freshness, she was not for that the
less plumpy fleshed, and the most delicious forms graced by a skin fairer
than the lily, often induced one to suppose that, no, it had been Love
itself who had undertaken her formation. Her face was a trifle long, her
features wonderfully noble, more majesty than gentleness was in her look,
more grandeur than subtlety. Her eyes were large, black, and full of fire;
her mouth extremely small and ornamented by the finest teeth imaginable,
she had a narrow, supple tongue, of the loveliest pink, and her breath was
sweeter still than the scent of a rose. She was full-breasted, her bosom
was buxom, fair as alabaster and as firm. Her back was turned in an
extraordinary way, its lines sweeping deliciously down to the most
artistically and the most precisely cleft ass Nature has produced in a long
time. Nothing could have been more perfectly round, not very large, but
firm, white, dimpled; and when it was opened, what used to peep out but the
cleanest, most winsome, most delicate hole. A nuance of tenderest pink had
shaded this ass, charming asylum of lubricity's sweetest pleasures, but,
great God! it was not for long to preserve so many charms! Four or five
attacks, and the Duc had spoiled all those graces, how quickly had they
gone, and soon after her marriage Constance was become no more than the
image of a beautiful lily wherefrom the tempest has of late stripped the
petals away. Two round and perfectly molded thighs supported another
temple, in all likehood less delicious, but, to inclined to worship there,
offering so many allurements it would be in vain were my pen to strive to
describe them. Constance was almost a virgin when the Duc married her, and
her father, the only man who had known her, had, as they say, left that
side of her perfectly intact. The most beautiful black hair - falling in
natural curls to below her shoulders and, when one wished it thus, reaching
down to the pretty fur, of the same color, which shaded that voluptuous
little cunt - made for a further adornment I might have been guilty of
omitting, and lent this angelic creature, aged about twenty-two, all the
charms Nature is able to lavish upon a woman. To all these amenities
Constance joined a fair and agreeable wit, a spirit somewhat more elevated
than it ought to have been, considering the melancholy situation fate had
awarded her, for thereby she was enabled to sense all its horrors and,
doubtless, she would have been happier if furnished with less delicate
perceptions.
     Durcet, who had raised her more as if she were a courtesan than his
daughter, and who had been much more concerned to give her talents than
manners, had all the same never been able totally to destroy the principles
of rectitude and of virtue it seemed Nature had been pleased to engrave in
her heart. She had no formal religion, no one had ever mentioned such a
thing to her, the exercise of a belief was not to be tolerated in her
father's household, but all that had not blotted out this modesty, this
natural humility which has nothing to do with theological chimeras, and
which, when it dwells in an upright, decent, and sensitive soul, is very
difficult to obliterate. Never had she stepped out of her father's house,
and the scoundrel had forced her, beginning at the age of twelve, to serve
his crapulous pleasures. She found a world of difference in those the Duc
imbided with her, her body was noticeably altered by those formidable
dimensions, and the day after the Duc had despoiled her of her maidenhead,
sodomistically speaking, she had fallen dangerously ill. They believed her
rectum had been irreparably damaged; but her youth, her health, and some
salutary local remedies soon restored the use of that forbidden avenue to
the Duc, and the luckless Constance, forced to accustom herself to this
daily torture, and it was but one amongst others, entirely recovered and
became adjusted to everything.
     Adelaide, Durcet's wife and the daughter of the President, had a
beauty which was perhaps superior to Constance's, but of an entirely
different sort. She was twenty, small and slender, of an extremely slight
and delicate build, of classic loveliness, had the finest blond hair to be
seen. An interesting air, a look of sensibility distributed everywhere
about her, and above all in her features, gave her the quality of a heroine
in a romance. Her exceptionally large eyes were blue, they expressed at
once tenderness and decency; two long but narrow and remarkably drawn
eyebrows adorned a forehead not very high but of such noble charm one might
have thought this were modesty's very temple. Her nose, thin, a little
pinched at the top, descended to assume a semi-aquiline contour; her lips
inclined toward the thin, were of a bright, ripe red; a little large, her
mouth was the unique flaw in this celestial physiognomy, but when it
opened, there shone thirty-two pearls Nature seemed to have sown amidst
roses. Her neck was a shade long, attached in a singular way, through what
one judged a natural habit, her head was ever so faintly bent toward her
right shoulder, especially when she was listening; but with what grace did
not this interesting attitude endow her! Her breasts were small, very
round, very firm, well-elevated, but there was barely enough there to fill
the hand. They were like two little apples a frolicking Cupid had fetched
hither from his mother's garden. Her chest was a bit narrow, it was also a
very delicate chest, her belly was satin smooth, a little blond mound not
much garnished with hair served as peristyle to the temple in which Venus
seemed to call out for an homage. This temple was narrow to such a point
you could not insert a finger therein without eliciting a cry from
Adelaide; nevertheless, two lustrums had revolved since the time when,
thanks to the President, the poor child had ceased to be a virgin, either
in that place or in the delicious part it remains for us to sketch. Oh,
what were the attractions this second sanctuary possessed, what a flow in
the line of her back, how magnificently were those buttocks cut, what
whiteness there, and what dazzling rose blush! But all on all, it was on
the small side. Delicate in all her lines, she was rather the sketch than
the model of beauty, it seemed as though Nature had only wished to indicate
in Adelaide what she had so majestically articulated in Constance. Peer
into that appetizing behind, and lo! a rosebud would offer itself to your
gaze, and it was in all its bloom and in the most tender pink Nature wished
you to behold it; but narrow? tiny? it had only been at the price of
infinite labors the President had navigated through those straits, and he
had only renewed these assaults successfully two or three times.
     Durcet, less exacting, gave her little affliction in this point, but,
since becoming his wife, in exchange for how many other cruel
complaisances, with what a quantity of other perilous submissions had she
not been obliged to purchase this little kindness? And, furthermore, turned
over to the four libertines, as by their mutual consent she was, how many
other cruel ordeals had she not to undergo, both of the species Durcet
spared her, and of every other.
     Adelaide had the mind her face suggested, that is to say, an extremely
romantic mind, solitary places were the ones she preferred, and once there,
she would shed involuntary tears - tears to which we do not pay sufficient
heed - tears apparently torn from Nature by foreboding. She was recently
bereft of a friend, a girl she idolized, and this frightful loss constantly
haunted her imagination. As she was thoroughly acquainted with her father,
as she knew to what extents he carried his wild behavior, she was persuaded
her young friend had fallen prey to the President's villainies, for he had
never managed to induce the missing person to accord him certain
privileges. The thing was not unlikely. Adelaide imagined the same would
someday befall her; nor was that improbable. The President, in her regard,
had not paid the same attention to the problem of religion Durcet had in
the interests of Constance, no, he had allowed all that nonsense to be
born, to be fomented, supposing that his writings and his discourses would
easily destroy it. He was mistaken: religion is the nourishment upon which
a soul such as Adelaide's feeds. In vain the President had preached, in
vain he had made her read books, the young lady had remained a believer,
and all these extravagances, which she did not share, which she hated, of
which she was the victim, fell far short of disabusing her about illusions
which continued to make for her life's happiness. She would go and hide
herself to pray to God, she'd perform Christian duties on the sly, and was
unfailingly and very severely punished, either by her father or her
husband, when surprised in the act by the one or the other.
     Adelaide patiently endured it all, fully convinced Heaven would
someday reward her. Her character was as gentle as her spirit, and her
benevolence, one of the virtues for which her father most detested her,
went to the point of extreme. Curval, whom that vile class of the poverty-
stricken irritated, sought only to humiliate it, to further depress it, or
to wring victims from it; his generous daughter, on the other hand, would
have foregone her own necessities to procure them for the poor, and she had
often been espied stealing off to take to the needy sums which were
intended for her pleasures. Durcet and the President finally succeeded in
scolding and pounding good manners into her, and in ridding her of this
corrupt practice by withholding absolutely all means whereby she could
resume it. Adelaide, having nothing left but her tears to bestow upon the
poor, went none the less to sprinkle them upon their woes, and her
powerless howbeit staunchly sensitive spirit was incapable of ceasing to be
virtuous. One day she learned that some poor woman was to come to
prostitute her daughter to the President because extreme need bade her do
so; the enchanted old rake was already preparing himself for the kind of
pleasure-taking he liked best. Adelaide had one of her dresses sold and
immediately got the money put it in the mother's hands; by means of this
small assistance and some sort of a sermon, she diverted the woman from the
she was about to commit. Hearing of what she had done, the President
proceeded to such violences with her - his daughter was not yet married at
the time - that she was a fortnight abed; but all that was to no avail:
nothing could put a stop to this gentle soul's tender impulses.
     Julie, the President's wife, the Duc's elder daughter, would have
eclipsed the two preceding women were it not for something which many
behold as a capital defect, but which had perhaps in itself aroused
Curval's passion for her, so true it is that the effects of passion are
unpredictable, nay, inconceivable, and that their disorder, the outcome of
disgust and satiety, can only be matched by their irregular flights. Julie
was tall, well made although quite fat and fleshy, had the most lovely
brown eyes in the world, a charming nose, striking and gracious features,
the most beautiful chestnut brown hair, a fair body of the most appetizing
fullness, an ass which might easily have served as model to the one
Praxiteles sculpted, her cunt was hot, strait, and yielded as agreeable a
sensation as such a locale ever may; her legs were handsome, her feet
charming, but she had the worst-decked mouth, the foulest teeth, and was by
habit so dirty in every other part of her body, and principally at the two
temples of lubricity, that no other being, let me repeat it, no other being
but the President, himself subject to the same shortcomings and
unquestionably fond of them, nay, no one else, despite her allurements,
could have put up with Julie. Curval, however, was mad about her; his most
divine pleasures were gathered upon that stinking mouth, to kiss it plunged
him into delirium, and as for her natural uncleanliness, far from rebuking
her for it, to the contrary he encouraged her in it, and had finally got
her accustomed to a perfect divorce from water. To these faults Julie added
a few others, but they were surely less disagreeable: she was a vast eater,
she had a leaning toward drunkenness, little virtue, and I believe that had
she dared try it, whoredom would have held little by way of terror for her.
Brought up by the Duc in a total abandon of principles and manners, she
adopted a whore's philosophy, and she was probably an apt student of all
its tenets; but, through yet another very curious effect of libertinage, it
often happens that a woman who shares our faults pleases us a great deal
less in our pleasures than one who is full of naught but virtues: the first
resembles us, we scandalize her not; the other is terrified, and there is
one very certain charm more.
     Despite his proportions, the Duc had sported with his daughter, but he
had had to wait until she was fifteen, and even so had not been able to
prevent Julie from being considerably damaged by the adventure, indeed, so
much so that, eager to marry her off, he had been forced to put a term to
pleasure-taking of this variety and to be content with delights less
dangerous for her, but at least as fatiguing. Julie gained little by
gaining the President, whose prick, as we know, was exceedingly thick and,
furthermore, however much she was dirty from neglect of herself, she could
not in any wise keep up with a filthiness in debauch such as the one that
distinguished the President, her beloved spouse.
     Aline, Julie's younger sister and really the daughter of the Bishop,
possessed habits and defects and a character very unlike her sister's.
     She was the most youthful of the four, she had just become eighteen;
she had a fetching, exuberantly healthy, and almost pert little
countenance; a little turned-up nose; brown eyes full of expression and
vivacity; a delicious mouth; a most shapely though somewhat tall figure,
well-fleshed; the skin a bit dark but soft and fine; ass rather on the
ample side but well-molded, a pair of the most voluptuous buttocks that
ever a libertine eye may behold, the love mound brown-haired and pretty,
the cunt a trifle low or, as they say, à l'anglaise, but as tight as one
might wish, and when she was presented to the assembly she was thoroughly a
maid. And she still was at the time the party we are to chronicle got under
way, and we shall see in what manner her maidenhead was annihilated. As for
the first fruits of her ass, the Bishop had been peacefully plucking them
every day for the past eight years, but without, however, arousing in his
dear daughter much of a taste for these exercises: she, despite her
mischievous and randy air, only cooperated out of obedience and had never
hinted that she shared the slightest pleasure in the infamies whose daily
victim she was. The Bishop had left her in the most profound ignorance,
scarcely did she know how to read or write, and she had absolutely no idea
of religion's existence; her mind was natural, it was that of a child, she
would give droll replies, she liked to play, she loved her sister a great
deal, detested the Bishop out of all measure, and feared the Duc as she
dreaded fire. On the wedding day, when she discovered herself naked and
surrounded by the four men, she wept, and moreover did all that was asked
of her, acting without pleasure as without ill-temper. She was sober, very
clean, and having no other fault but that of laziness, nonchalance reigned
in all her movements and doings and everywhere about her person, despite
the liveliness announced by her bright eyes. She abhorred the President
almost as much as she hated her uncle, and Durcet, who treated her with no
excess of consideration, nevertheless seemed to be the only one for whom
she appeared to have no repugnance.
     These were the eight principal characters in whose company we are
going to enable you to live, good reader. It is now time to divulge the
object of singular pleasures that were proposed.
     It is commonly accepted amongst authentic libertines that the
sensations communicated by the organs of hearing are the most flattering
and those impressions are the liveliest; as a consequence, our four
villains, who were of a mind to have voluptuousness implant itself in the
very core of their beings as deeply and as overwhelmingly as ever it could
penetrate, had, to this end, devised something quite clever indeed.
     It was this: after having immured themselves within everything that
was best able to satisfy the senses through lust, after having established
this situation, the plan was to have described to them, in the greatest
detail and in due order, every one of debauchery's extravagances, all its
divagations, all its ramifications, all its contingencies, all of what is
termed in libertine language its passions. There is simply no conceiving
the degree to which man varies them when his imagination grows inflamed;
excessive may be the differences between men that is created by all their
other manias, by all their other tastes, but in this case it is even more
so, and he who should succeed in isolating and categorizing and detailing
these follies would perhaps perform one of the most splendid labors which
might be undertaken in the study of manners, and perhaps one of the most
interesting. It would thus be a question of finding some individuals
capable of providing an account of all these excesses, then of analyzing
them, of extending them, of itemizing them, of graduating them, and of
running a story through it all, to provide coherence and amusement. Such
was the decision adopted. After innumerable inquiries and investigations,
they located four women who had attained their prime - that was necessary,
experience was the fundamental thing here - four women, I say, who, having
spent their lives in the most furious debauchery, had reached the state
where they could provide an exact account of all these matters; and, as
care had been taken to select four endowed with a certain eloquence and a
fitting turn of mind, after much discussion, recording, and arranging, all
four were ready to insert, each into the adventures of her life, all the
most extraordinary vagaries of debauch, and to do so in such an order and
at such a pace that the first, for example, would work into the tale of her
life's activities the one hundred and fifty simple passions and the least
esoteric or most ordinary deviations; the second, within the same
framework, an equal number of more unusual passions involving one or more
men with one or several women; the third was also to introduce into her
narration one hundred and fifty of the most criminal whimsies and those
which most outrage the laws of both Nature and religion; and as all these
excesses lead to murder and as these murders committed through libertinage
are infinitely various and are just as numerous as the occasions upon which
the libertine's inflamed imagination adopts different tortures, the fourth
was to adorn the events of her life with a meticulous report upon one
hundred and fifty assorted examples of them. In the meantime, our
libertines, surrounded, as at the outset I indicated, by their wives and
also by other objects in every kind, were to pay close heed, were to be
mentally heated, and were to end by extinguishing, by means of either their
wives or those various objects, the conflagration the storytellers were to
have lit. There is surely nothing more voluptuous in this project than the
luxurious manner whereby it was carried out, and they are both this manner
and these several recitations which are to compose this work; wherewith,
having said this much, I advise the overmodest to lay my book aside at once
if he would not be scandalized, for 'tis already clear there's not much of
the chaste in our plan, and we dare hold ourselves answerable in advance
that there'll be still less in its execution. Insomuch as the four
actresses we have been speaking of play a most essential role in these
memoirs, we believe, even were we to have to beg the reader's forgiveness
therefor, we should still feel obliged to describe them; they will narrate,
they will act: such being the case, is it possible that they remain
unknown? Banish all expectation of beauties portrayed, although there were
doubtless in the plans provisions for employing these four creatures
physically as well as morally; be that as it may, neither their charms nor
their years were the deciding factors, but rather their minds and their
experience only that counted, and with what regards the latter, our friends
could not possibly have made better choices.
     Madame Duclos was she to whom they entrusted the relating of the one
hundred and fifty simple passions; the woman who went by this name was
forty-eight years of age, still in fairly good condition and preserving the
vestiges of beauty; she had very handsome eyes, an exceedingly fair skin,
and one of the most splendid and plumpest asses that could ever favor your
gaze; a mouth both clean and fresh, superb breasts, and pretty brown hair,
a heavy figure but a noble one, and all the looks and tone of a brilliant
whore. She had spent her life, as shall be observed, in places and under
circumstances where indeed she had been obliged to study what she is going
to relate, and to see her was to realize she must have gone to the task
with wit and verve, with ease and interest.
     Madame Champville was a tall woman about fifty, slender, well made,
having the most voluptuous quality in her look and bearing; a faithful
devotee of Sappho, she had that kind of expression even in her slightest
movements, in her simplest gestures, in her least words. She had ruined
herself for the sake of keeping girls and, had it not been for this
predilection to which she generally sacrified everything she was able to
earn abroad, she might have been comfortably well to do. For a long time
she had been in public service, and during recent years had been making her
way as an outfitter in her turn, but had confined herself to a limited
practice, her clients being reliable rakehells of a certain age; never did
she receive young men, and this prudent conduct was lucrative and did
something to improve her affairs. She had been blond, but a more venerable
tint, and that of wisdom, was beginning to color her hair; her eyes were
still exceedingly attractive, blue, and they contained a most agreeable
expressiveness. Her mouth was lovely, still fresh, missing no teeth as yet,
she was flat-chested but had a belly which was good, but had never aroused
envy, her mound was rather prominent, and her clitoris protruded three
inches when well warmed; tickle this part of her and one was certain to see
her fly into an ecstasy in no time, and especially if the service was
rendered by a female. Her ass was very flabby and worn from use, entirely
soft, wrinkled, withered, and so toughened by the libidinous customs she in
recounting her history will explain to us, that one could do everything one
wished without her feeling anything there. One strange and assuredly very
rare thing, above all in Paris: she was as much a maid on this side as a
girl emerging from a convent, and perhaps, had it not been for the accursed
part she put to use with people who cared for nothing but the extraordinary
and whom, consequently, that side pleased, perhaps, I say, had it not been
for that part, this singular virginity might have perished with her.
     Madame Martaine, a portly matron of fifty-two, very well preserved and
very healthy and blessed with the biggest and most beautiful rump one could
wish for, boasted the precise opposite by way of adventure. She had devoted
her life to sodomitical debauch, and was so well familiarized therewith she
tasted absolutely no joy save therefrom. A natural deformity (she had also
been blessed with an obstruction) having prevented her from knowing any
other, she had given herself over to this kind of pleasure, led to it both
by her inability to do anything else and by early habit, in consideration
of which she clung fast to this lubricity wherein 'twas declared she was
yet delicious, ready to brave come what might, dreading nothing. The most
monstrous engines were as naught to her, in fact such were the ones she
preferred, and the sequel to these papers will perhaps reveal her still
giving valorious fight beneath the standards of Sodom, as the most intrepid
of buggresses. Her features were gracious enough, but signs of languor and
of decline were beginning to mar her attractions, and but for the plumpness
sustaining her yet, she might have been thought timeworn and frayed.
     As for Madame Desgranges, she was vice and lust personified; tall,
thin, fifty-six, ghostly pale and emaciated, dead dull eyes, dead lips, she
offered an image of crime about to perish for lack of strength. She had
once upon a time been brunette, there were some who even maintained she'd
had a beautiful body; not long thereafter it had become a mere skeleton
capable of inspiring nothing but disgust. Her ass, withered, worn, marked,
torn, more resembled marbled paper than human skin, and its hole was so
gaping, sprung, and rugose that the bulkiest machines could, without her
knowing a thing, penetrate it dry. By way of crowning graces, this generous
Cytherean athlete, wounded in several combats, was missing one nipple and
three fingers. She limped, and was without six teeth and an eye. We may
perhaps learn by what order of attacks she had been so mistreated; but one
thing is certain: nothing she had suffered had induced her to mend her
ways, and if her body was the picture of ugliness, her was the depository
of all the most unheard of vices and crimes: an arsonist, a parricade, a
sodomite, a tribade, a murderess, a poisoner, guilty of incest, of rape, of
theft, of abortions, and of sacrileges, one might truthfully affirm that
there is not a single crime in the world this villain had not committed
herself, or had others commit for her. Her present calling was procuring;
she was one of society's most heavily titled furnishers, and as to much
experience she joined a more or less agreeable prattle, she had been chosen
to fill the role of fourth storyteller, that is to say, the one in whose
story the greatest number of infamies and horrors were to be combined. Who
better than a creature who had performed them all could have played this
part?
     These women once found, and found in every article to be such as was
desired, the friends turned their attentions to accessories. They had from
the outset planned to surround themselves with a large number of lust-
inspiring objects of either sex, but when it was brought to their attention
that the only setting in which this lubricious roister could conveniently
be held was that same château in Switzerland belonging to Durcet, the one
in which he had dispatched little Elvire, when, I say, it was remarked that
this château of only moderate size would not be able to lodge so great a
throng of inhabitants, and that, what was more, it might well prove unwise
or dangerous to bring along such a host, the list of subjects was trimmed
to thirty-two in all, the storytellers included: to wit: four of that
class, eight young girls, eight young boys, eight men endowed with
monstrous members, for the delights of passive sodomy, and four female
servants. But thoroughness went into the recruiting of all that; a year was
devoted to these details, an enormous amount of money too, and these are
the measures they employed to obtain the most delicious specimens of all
France could offer in the way of eight little girls: sixteen intelligent
procuresses, each accompanied by two lieutenants, were sent into the
sixteen major provinces of France, while a seventeeth was occupied with the
same work in Paris only. Each of these outfitters was given a rendezvous at
one of the Duc's estates on the outskirts of Paris, and all of them were to
appear there, during the same week, exactly ten months after the date of
their departure - this was the period they were given for searching. Each
was to bring back nine subjects, which came to a total of one hundred and
fifty-three girls, from which one hundred and fifty-three a choice of only
eight was to be made.
     The procuresses were instructed to emphasize high birth, virtuousness,
and the most delicious visage possible; they were to conduct their
researches so as to draw material chiefly from eminent families, and were
not to hand over any girl without being able to prove that she had been
forcibly abducted from either a convent housing pensionnaires of quality,
or from the home of a family, and that a family of distinction. Whatever
was not superior to the class of bourgeoisie, and what from these upper
classes was not both very virtuous and wholly virgin and impeccably
beautiful, would be refused without mercy; spies were posted to survey
these women's proceedings and to supply the society with exhaustive and
prompt reports of what they were doing.
     For each suitable subject found, they were paid thirty thousand
francs, the agents assuming all expenses. The costs were incredible. With
respect to age, it was fixed at from twelve to fifteen; anything above or
between was pitilessly rejected. At the same time, under identical
circumstances, with the same means, at the same expense, seventeen ages of
sodomy likewise scoured the capital and the provinces in search of little
boys, and their rendezvous was set for a month after the selection of the
girls. As for the young men whom we propose henceforth to designate as
fuckers, the size of the member was the sole criterion: nothing under ten
or eleven inches long by seven or eight around was acceptable. Eight men
labored throughout the kingdom to supply this demand, and their rendezvous
was scheduled to fall a month after the little boys'. While the story of
how these selections were made and received is not our foremost concern, it
might not be inappropriate at this point to insert a word on the subject in
order to bring out yet a little more of our four heroes' genius; it seems
to me that nothing which serves to enlarge the reader's understanding of
these figures and to shed light upon a party as extraordinary as the one we
are going to describe, can be judged irrelevant.
     The time for the assembling of the little girls having arrived,
everyone converged upon the Duc's estate. Some few procuresses having been
unable to fill their quota of nine, some others having lost their charges
en route, either by illness or flight, only one hundred and thirty of them
were present at the rendezvous, but what charms, great God! never, I
believe, have so many charms been seen gathered together in one place.
Thirteen days were given over to this examination, and each day ten of them
were inspected. The four friends gathered in a circle, and in its middle
was placed the little girl, dressed as she had been seized; the procuress
responsible for her capture recited her history. If something of the
conditions of high birth or virtue were wanting, the inquiry went no
deeper, the child was forthwith rejected, without appeal, and sent on her
way, and the purveyor lost all that she had spent in connection with her.
Next, having provided all the vital particulars, the procuress was asked to
retire, and the child was interrogated in order to determine whether what
had just been alleged were true. If all seemed well, the procuress was
called in again, and she lifted the girl's skirts from behind, so as to
expose her buttocks to the group; this was the first thing it wished to
examine. The slightest defect in this part was grounds for immediate
rejection; if on the contrary naught were amiss here, she was ordered to
strip, or was stripped, and, naked, she passed and passed again, five or
six times over, from one of our libertines to the other, she was turned
about, she was turned the other way, she was fingered, she was handled,
they sniffed, they spread, they peeped, they examined the state of the
goods, was it new, was it used, but did all this coolly and without
permitting the senses' illusion to upset any aspect of the examination.
This done, the child was led away, and beside her name inscribed upon a
ballot, the examiners wrote passed or failed and signed their names; these
ballots were then dropped into a box, the voters refraining from
communicating their opinions to one another; all the girls examined, the
box was opened: in order to be accepted, a girl had to have our four
friend's names in her favor. The absence of one name was enough to exclude
her instantly and, in every instance, inexorably, as I have said: the
unsuitable ones were kicked directly out, set at large, alone and without a
guide, save when, as happened with perhaps a dozen, our liberines frolicked
with them after the choices had been made and before turning them over to
their procuresses.
     This round resulted in the exclusion of fifty candidates, the other
eighty were gone over afresh, but with much greater exactitude and
severity; the least defect warranted instantaneous dismissal. One, lovely
as the day, was weeded out because one of her teeth grew a shade higher
from the gum than the rest; more than twenty others were refused because
they were daughters of nothing better than bourgeois. Thirty were
eliminated during this second round, hence only fifty were left. The
friends resolved not to continue to the third round until having first
being relieved of some fuck through these fifty aspirants' own ministry,
this in order that the senses' perfect calm could insure saner and sounder
choice. Each of the quartet encompassed himself by a team of twelve or
thirteen children; members of each team adopted varying attitudes, teams
were shifted, everything was brought off with such dexterity, there was, in
a word, so much lubricity in the doing that sperm flow, temperatures
subsided, and another thirty disappeared from the race. Twenty remained;
that was still a dozen too many. Further expedients to procure calm were
resorted to, every means wherefrom one would suppose disgust could be born
was employed, but the twenty still remained, and how might one have
subtracted from a number of creatures so wonderfully celestial you would
have declared they were the very work of a divinity? Equal in beauty,
something else had to discovered which could at least award eight of them
some kind of superiority over the twelve others, and what the President
then proposed was worthy indeed of all the disorder of his mind. That made
no difference; the suggestion was accepted: it had to do with finding out
which of them would best do something the chosen eight would be often
called upon to do. Four days sufficed amply to decide this question, and at
last twelve were given their leave, but not blankly as in the case of the
others; they provided a week's complete and exhaustive amusement, then were
put into the keeping of the procuresses who soon made a pretty penny from
the prostitution of creatures as distinguished as these. As for the
successful eight, they were installed in a convent to keep until the day of
departure, and in order to reserve until the designated period the pleasure
of enjoying them, the four colleagues did not touch them before then.
     I'll not be so foolhardy as to attempt to describe these beauties:
they were all of them superior in an equal degree: my brush strokes would
necessarily be monotonous; I shall be content to give their names and to
affirm that upon my word it is perfectly impossible to obtain an idea of
such an assemblage of graces, of attractions, of perfections, and that had
Nature wished to give Man an idea of what her greatest and wisest art can
create, she would not have presented him with other models.
     The first was named Augustine: she was fifteen, the daughter of a
Languedoc baron, and had been kidnaped from a convent in Montpellier.
     The second was named Fanny: she was the daughter of a counselor to the
parliament of Brittany and had been abducted from her father's own château.
     The third was named Zelmire: she was fifteen years old, she was the
Comte de Terville's daughter, and he idolized her. He had taken her hunting
with him on one of his estates in Beauce and, having left her alone in the
forest for a moment, she had been pounced upon at once. She was only a
child and, with a dowry of four hundred thousand francs, was the following
year to have married a very great lord. It was she who most wept and
grieved at the horror of her fate.
     The fourth was named Sophie: she was fourteen and was the daughter of
a rather well-to-do gentleman who lived on his estate in Berry. She had
been seized while on a walk with her mother, who, seeking to defend her,
was flung into a river, where she expired before her daughter's eyes.
     The fifth was named Colombe: she was from Paris, the child of a
counselor to Parliament; she was thirteen and had been kidnaped while
returning in the evening to her convent with a governess, after leaving a
children's ball. The governess had been stabbed to death.
     The sixth was named Hebe: she was just twelve, the daughter of a
cavalry captain, a nobleman who lived in Orleans. The youngster had been
enticed and carried away from the convent where she was being brought up;
two nuns had been bought. You could not hope to find anything more
seductive or sweeter.
     The seventh was named Rosette: she was thirteen and was the child of
the Lieutenant-General of Chalon-sur-Saône. Her father had just died, she
was with her mother in the countryside near the city, and was captured
within sight of her relatives by agents disguised as thieves.
     The last was named Mimi or Michette: she was twelve, she was the
daughter of the Marquis de Senanges and had been kidnaped on her father's
estate in the Bourbonnais while on a carriage drive which she had been
allowed to take with two or three women from the château. The women were
murdered. It will be remarked that the preparations for these revels cost
much money and many crimes; to such people, treasure means exceedingly
little, and as for crime, one was then living in an age when it was not by
any means probed and punished the way it is nowadays. Hence everything
succeeded, and so prettily that, the inquests amounting to virtually
nothing at all, our libertines were never troubled by consequences.
     The time drew nigh for the examination of the little boys. Easier to
obtain, their number was greater. The pimps produced one hundred and fifty
of them, and it will surely be no exaggeration if I affirm that they at
least equaled the little girls, as much in their innocence, and their
elevated rank. Thirty thousand francs were paid for each of them, the same
sum given for the girls, but the entrepreneurs risked nothing, because this
game being more delicate and far more to the taste of our epicures, it had
been decided that no one would be put in danger of losing his expenses,
that while the lads with whom it was impossible to come to terms would be
rejected, as they would be put to some use they would also be paid for.
     Their examination was conducted like that of the girls, ten were
verified each day, but with the very wise precaution which had been a
little too much neglected with the girls, with the precaution, I say, of
always preceding the examination by a discharge arranged with the aid of
the ten who were under present scrutiny. The others were half of a mind to
bar the President from the ceremony, they were wary of the depravation of
his tastes; they had feared, in the selection of the girls, being made the
dupes of his accursed predilection for infamy and degradation: he promised
to keep himself in check, and if he kept his word, it is unlikely he did so
without difficulty, for when once a damaged or diseased imagination becomes
accustomed to these species of outrages against good taste and Nature,
outrages which so deliciously flatter it, it is no easy matter to restore
such a person to the path of righteousness: it seems as if the desire to
satisfy his longing displaces reason in his judgements. Scorning what is
truly beautiful, no longer cherishing but what is frightful, desire's
pronouncements correspond to its criteria, and the return to truer
sentiments would appear to him to be a wrong done those principles whence
he should be most sorry to stray. One hundred hopefuls were found
unanimously approved when the initial seances were over, and these
decisions had to be five times reconsidered in order to arrive at the small
group alone to be accepted. Thrice in succession fifty survived the
balloting, and then, to reduce that number to the stipulated eight, the
jurors were compelled to resort to unusual measures in order somehow to
lessen the appeal of idols still glamorous despite everything they had been
able to do to them. The idea occurred to them to dress the boys as girls:
twenty-five were eliminated by this trick which, lending to a sex they
worshiped the garb of one to which they had become indifferent, depreciated
their value and ruined almost all the illusion. But nothing could alter the
voting on the twenty-five that were left. 'Twas all in vain, in vain they
spattered their fuck about, in vain they wrote their names upon the ballots
at the same moment they discharged, in vain they put to use the expedient
adopted with the little girls, the twenty-five proved irreducible every
time, and at last they agreed to have them draw lots. Here are the names
they gave the lucky ones who remained, their age, their birth, and a word
or two about their adventures; their portraits? I cry off: Cupid's own
features were surely no more delicate, and the models Albani sought from
which to choose traits for his divine angels must certainly have been
inferior by far.
     Zelamir was thirteen years old: he was the only son of a gentleman out
of Poitou who had been bringing him up with the greatest care. Escorted by
a single domestic, he had been sent to Poitiers to visit a kinsman; our
rogues ambushed them, slew the domestic, and made off with the child.
     Cupidon was the same age: he had been a pupil in a school at La
Flèche, and was the son of a gentleman dwelling in the vicinity of that
town. A trap was laid for the boy, he was kidnaped while on an outing the
students used to take on Sundays. He was the prettiest pupil in the entire
collège.
     Narcisse was twelve; he was a Knight of Malta. He had been abducted in
Rouen, where his father filled an honorable post compatible with his
nobility; the boy was en route to the Collège de Louis-le-Grand at Paris,
he was waylaid and seized while on the road.
     Zephyr, the most delicious of the eight, it being supposed that their
excessive beauty might allow the possibility of a choice, was from Paris;
he was pursuing his studies there, in a famous pension. His father, a
ranking officer, did all in his power to get his son back, and failed;
money had seduced the headmaster of the school, who delivered seven
specimens, of whom six were refused. Zephyr had set the Duc's head to
spinning, and the latter protested that were it to have cost a million to
bugger the boy he would have paid it in cash on the spot. He reserved to
himself the lad's initiation, and it was generally granted him. O tender
and delicate child, what disproportion and what a dreadful fate were in
store for you!
     Celadon was the son of a magistrate of Nancy; he was captured at
Luneville, whither he had gone to visit his aunt. He had just attained his
fourteenth year. In this case a girl was used to bait the trap. Celadon and
she were introduced, the little wench drew him into the snare by feigning
love for him; he was negligently chaperoned, the stroke was successful.
     Adonis was fifteen; he was ravished at Plessis, where he was enrolled
in school. He was the son of a judge of the assize courts who raised a
great hue and cry, but all to no avail, the capture had been so nicely
planned no one knew a thing about it. Curval, who had been mad about the
child for two years, had made his acquaintance at his father's house, and
it was he who had supplied the means and information necessary to debauch
him. The others were greatly surprised to find such sensible good taste in
a head so depraved as Curval's, and he, most proud, profited from the event
to show his colleagues that, as was plainly to be seen, he still could
boast a sometimes fine palate. The child recognized him and fell to
weeping, but the President consoled him with the assurance it would be to
him would befall the deflowering, and while uttering these comforting
words, he wobbled his enormous engine against those frail little buttocks.
Curval asked the assembly for the boy; his request was unopposed.
     Hyacinthe was fourteen years old; he was the son of a retired officer
living in a small city in Champagne. He adored hunting and was taken while
afield, his father having been so imprudent as to allow him to set out
alone.
     Giton was twelve; he was kidnaped at Versailles from amidst of the
page boys at the King's stables. He was the son of a man of consequence
from the Nivernais, who not six months prior had brought him to Versailles.
He was very simply abducted while walking alone on the avenue de Saint-
Cloud. He became the Bishop's passion, and to the Bishop was the prize
decreed.
     Those, thus, were the masculine deities our libertines prepared for
their lubricity; we will see in due time and place the use to which they
were put. One hundred and forty-two subjects remained, but whereas there
had been much trifling over the eight, there was none with this game: not
one of the defeated candidates was dismissed until he had served some
purpose.
     Our libertines spent a month with them at the Duc's château. As they
were on the eve of setting forth, as all the practical arrangements were
completed, the company had little else to do but amuse itself until the day
of departure. When at last they were thoroughly fed up with their sport,
they fell upon a pleasant means for disposing of what had provided it: that
was to sell the boys to a Turkish pirate, a scheme whereby no trace of them
would be left and a part of the costs would be recovered. They were sent in
small groups to a place near Monaco, the Turk came to get them and lead
them off into slavery, doubtless a dreadful fate, but one whereby, none the
less, our four villains were hugely entertained.
     And now came the moment of choosing the fuckers. Those of this class
who failed to meet the standards were the cause of no embarrasment; being
mature and reasonable men, it was enough to pay them for their trouble,
their traveling expenses, and send them home. The eight experts who had
contracted to furnish the fuckers had, furthermore, many fewer obstacles to
surmount, since the specifications were by and large concrete and the
conditions made no difference at all. Thus it was fifty came to the
rendezvous; from amongst the twenty biggest, the eight youngest and most
attractive were singled out, and since in the sequel mention will almost
never be made save of the four biggest of the eight, I shall restrict
myself to naming these.
     Hercule, with a body hewn in the image of the god whose name he had
been given, was twenty-six years of age and was endowed with a member eight
and one-quarter inches around by thirteen long. Nothing more beautiful nor
more majestic has ever been seen; this tool was almost always upright, and
with only eight discharges, so tests revealed, it could fill a pint measure
to the brim. Hercule was also very gentle, very sweet, and had an
interesting countenance.
     Antinoüs, so named because, like Hadrian's favourite, he had, together
with the world's prettiest prick, its most voluptuous ass, and that
exceedingly rare. Antinoüs wielded a device measuring eight inches in
circumference and twelve in length. He was thirty and had a face worthy of
his other features.
     Bum-Cleaver lugged a club so amusingly shaped it was nearly impossible
for him to perform an embuggery without splitting the ass, whence came the
name he bore. The head of his prick resembled the heart of an ox, it was
eight and three-eights inches around; behind it, the shaft measured only
eight, but was crooked and had such a curve it neatly tore the anus when
penetrating it, and this quality, very precious to libertines as jaded as
ours, had made him singularly sought after.
     Invictus, so named because, no matter what he did, his erection was
perpetual, was furnished with an engine eleven inches long and seven and
fifteen-sixteenths inches around. Greater ones, who had difficulty
stiffening, had been turned away to make room for him who, regardless of
the quantity of discharges he produced in a day, rose heavenward at the
slightest touch.
     The other four were of about the same dimensions and the same shape.
The forty-two rejected candidates provided a fortnight's entertainment and,
after the friends had put them through their paces and worn them to the
bone, they were well rewarded and bidden adieu.
     Nothing now remained but the choice of the four ladies-in-waiting, and
this final stage was without doubt the most picturesque. The President was
not the only one whose tastes were depraved; his three friends, and
especially Durcet, were indeed a little tainted by his accursed, crapulous,
and debauched mania which causes one to find a greater, more piquant
attraction in an old, disgusting, and filthy object than in what Nature has
fashioned most divinely. Explaining this fancy would probably be difficult,
but it exists in many people; Nature's disorder carries with it a kind of
sting which operates upon the high-keyed sort with perhaps as much and even
more force than do her most regular beauties; it has been proven, moreover,
that when one's prick is aloft, it is horror, villainy, the appalling, that
pleases; well, where are they more emphatically present than in a vitiated
object? If 'tis the filthy thing which pleases in the lubricious act, then
certainly the more filthy the thing, the more it should please, and it is
surely much filthier in the corrupted than in the intact and perfect
object.
     No, as to that there's no doubt. Furthermore, beauty belongs to the
sphere of the simple, the ordinary, whilst ugliness is something
extraordinary, and there is no question but that every ardent imagination
prefers in lubricity the extraordinary to the commonplace. Beauty, health
never strike one save in a simple way; ugliness, degradation deal a far
stouter blow, the commotion they create is much stronger, the resultant
agitation must hence be more lively; in the light of all this, there should
be no cause for astonishment in the fact that an immense crowd of people
prefer to take their pleasure with an aged, ugly, and even stinking crone
and will refuse a fresh and pretty girl, no more reason to be astonished by
that, I say, than at a man who for his promenades prefers the mountains'
arid and rugged terrain to the monotonous pathways of the plains. All these
matters depend upon our tastes in this connection than it is in our power
to alter the form of our bodies.
     Be that as it may, such, as I have said, was the dominating taste of
the President and, to tell the truth, the taste which came near to
predominating in his three confreres, for when it came to choosing female
servants, their views were identical, and we are about to see from this
choice that its making bespoke the constitutional disorder and depraviation
to which we have just alluded.
     The most painstaking search was initiated in Paris; the four creatures
needed were finally located; however loathsome may be their portraits, the
reader will none the less permit me to draw them: that I do so is essential
to that aspect of manners the elucidation of which is one of the principal
aims of this work.
     Marie was the name of the first one; she had been servant of a
notorious brigand quite recently put to death on the wheel, whipping and
branding had been her penalty. She was fifty-eight years old, had almost no
hair left, her nose stood askew, her eyes were dull and rheumy, her mouth
large and filled with her thirty-two teeth, yes, they were all there, but
all were yellow as sulphur; she was tall, raw-boned, having whelped
fourteen children, all fourteen of whom, said she, she'd strangled from
fear they'd turn out ne'er-do-wells. Her belly rippled like the waves of
the sea, and one of her buttocks was devoured by an abscess.
     The second was known as Louison; she was sixty, stunted, hunchbacked,
blind in one eye, and lame, but she had a fine ass for her age and her skin
was still in fairly good repair. She was as wicked as the devil and forever
ready to commit any horror and every extravagance one could possibly demand
of her.
     Therèse was sixty-two; she was tall, thin, looked like a skeleton, not
a hair was left on her head, not a tooth in her mouth, and from this
opening in her body she exhaled an odor capable of flooring any bystander.
Her ass was peppered with wounds, and her buttocks were so prodigiously
slack one could have furled the skin around a walking stick; the hole in
this splendid ass resembled the crater of a volcano what for width, and for
aroma the pit of a privy; in all her life, Therèse declared, she had never
once wiped her ass, whence we have proof positive that the shit of her
infancy yet clung there. As for her vagina, it was the receptacle of
everything ungodly, of every horror, a veritable sepulcher whose fetidity
was enough to make you faint away. She had one twisted arm and limped in
one leg.
     The fourth was called Fanchon; six times she had been hanged in
effigy, and not a crime exists in this world she had not committed. She was
sixty-nine, she was flat-nosed, short, and heavy; she squinted, had almost
no forehead, had nothing but two old teeth in her stinking maw, and they
were ready to fall out, an erysipelas blazed all over her ass and
hemorrhoids the size of your fist hung from her anus, a frightful chancre
consumed her vagina, and one of her thighs had been entirely burned. She
was dead drunk three-quarters of the year, and in that condition, her
stomach being very weak, she vomited over everything. Despite the batch fo
hemorrhoids adorning it, her asshole was naturally so large that all
unawares she blew driblets and farts and often more besides. Apart from
acting as servants in the luxurious recreation palace the four friends had
in mind, these women were also to lend a hand at all the convocations and
render all the lubricious services and ministrations that might be required
of them.
     As soon as all these matters had been decided and the summer having
already begun, they turned their thoughts to the transporting of the
various objects which were, during the four months' sojourn on Durcet's
estate, to render its inhabitation comfortable and agreeable. A vast store
of furniture and mirrors, of viands and wines and liqueurs of all kinds
were ordered borne thither, workmen were sent there, and little by little
the numerous subjects were conducted to the château where Durcet, who had
gone ahead, received, lodged, and established them as they arrived.
     But the moment has come to give the reader a description of the
renowned temple appointed for so many luxurious sacrifices throughout the
projected four-month season. He will observe with what great care they had
chosen a remote and isolated retreat, as if silence, distance, and
stillness were libertinage's potent vehicles, and as if everything which
through these qualities instills a religious terror in the senses had
necessarily and evidently to bestow additional charm upon lust. We are
going to picture this retreat not as once it was, but in the state of
embellishment and yet more perfect solitude that resulted from our four
friends' efforts.
     To reach the place one had first to get to Basel; at that city you
crossed the Rhine, beyond which the road became steadily narrower until you
had to abandon your carriage. Soon afterward you entered the Black Forest,
you plunged about fifteen leagues into it, ascended a difficult, tortuous
road that, without a guide, would be absolutely impracticable. By and by
you caught sight of a sinister and mean hamlet of charcoal burners and
gamekeepers; there began the territory Durcet owned, and the hamlet was
his; as this little village's population was composed almost entirely of
thieves or smugglers, Durcet easily befriended it, and his first order to
the inhabitants was expressly to enjoin them under no circumstances to
allow anyone whomsoever to pass on toward the château after the 1st of
November, the date by which the entire society was to be assembled in it.
He distributed weapons to his faithful vassals, granted them certain
privileges they had been long soliciting, and the barrier was lowered. That
done, and the gates tightly sealed, one will see by the following
description how difficult of access was Silling, the name Durcet's châteu
bore.
     Having passed the village, you begin to scale a mountain almost as
high as the Saint-Bernard and infinitely more difficult to ascend, for the
only way to reach the summit is by foot; not that the route is forbidden to
pack mules, but such are the precipices which everywhere border the one so
very narrow path that must be followed, that you run the greatest danger if
you ride; six of the mules used to transport supplies and food perished,
taking with them two laborers who had though to mount astride them. Five
full hours are required to reach the top of the mountain, and there you
come upon another extraordinary feature which, owing to the precautions
that had been taken, became a new barrier so insurmountable that none but
birds might have overcome it: the topographical accident we refer to is a
crevice above sixty yards wide which splits the crest into northern and
southern parts, with the result that, after having climbed up the mountain,
it is impossible, without great skill, to go back down it. Durcet had
united these two parts, between which a precipice fell to the depth of a
thousand feet and more, by a fine wooden bridge which was destroyed
immediately the last of the crew had arrived, and from this moment on, all
possibility of communicating with the Château of Silling ceased. For, cross
the bridge and you come down into a little plain about four acres in area;
the plain is surrounded on all sides by sheer crags rising to the clouds,
crags which envelop the plain within a faultless screen. The passage known
as the bridge path is hence the only one by which you may descend into or
communicate with the little plain; the bridge removed or destroyed, there
is not on this earth a single being, of no matter what species you may
imagine, capable of gaining this small plot of level land.
     And it is in the center of this flat space so well surrounded, so
solidly protected, that one finds Durcet's château. Yet another wall,
thirty feet high, girds it; beyond the wall a moat filled with water and
exceedingly deep defends a last tall and winding enclosure; a low and
strait postern finally leads into the great inner court around which all
the living quarters are built, and they are very capacious, very well
furnished thanks to the arrangements latterly concluded; one discovers a
long gallery on the first floor. I would have it remarked that the
description I am about to give of the apartments corresponds not to what in
former times they may have been, but to the manner in which they had just
been rearranged and distributed in accordance with our libertines' common
conception. From the gallery you moved into a very attractive dining hall
provided with buffets shaped like towers which, communicating with the
kitchen, made it possible to serve the company its food hot, promptly, and
without the help of any waiters. From this dining hall, hung in tapestries,
warmed by heating devices, furnished with ottomans, with excellent
armchairs, and with everything which could make it both comfortable and
pleasing to the eye, you passed into a large living room or salon, simple,
plain, but exceedingly warm and equipped with the very best furniture;
adjacent to this room was an assembly chamber intended for the
storytellers' narrations. This was, so to speak, the lists for the
projected jousts, the seat of the lubricious conclaves, and as it had been
decorated accordingly, it merits something by way of a special description.
     Its shape was semicircular; set into the curving wall were four niches
whose surfaces were faced with large mirrors, and each was provided with an
excellent ottoman; these four recesses were so constructed that each faced
the center of the circle; the diameter was formed by a throne, raised four
feet above the floor and with its back to the flat wall, and it was
intended for the storyteller; in this position she was not only well before
the four niches intended for her auditors, but, the circle being small, was
close enough to them to insure their hearing every word she said, for she
was placed like an actor in a theater, and the audience in their niches
found themselves situated as if observing a spectacle in an amphitheater.
Steps led down from the throne, upon them were to sit the objects of
debauchery brought in to soothe any sensory irritation provoked by the
recitals; these several tiers, like the throne, were upholstered in black
velvet edged with gold fringe, and the niches were furnished with similar
and likewise enriched material, but in color dark blue. At the back of each
niche was a little door leading into an adjoining closet which was to be
used at times when, having summoned the desired subject from the steps, one
preferred not to execute before everyone the delight for whose execution
one had summoned that subject. These closets were provided with couches and
with all the other furnishing required for every kind of impurity. On
either side of the central throne an isolated column rose to the ceiling;
these two columns were designed to support the subject in whom some
misconduct might merit correction. All the instruments necessary to meting
it out hung from hooks attached to the columns, and this imposing sight
served to maintain the subordination so indispensable to parties of this
nature, a subordination whence is born almost all the charm of the
voluptuousness in persecutors' souls.
     One could walk from this semicircular room directly to a chamber which
formed the end of this part of the living quarters. This chamber was a kind
of boudoir, it was soundproof and secluded, but very warm within, very dark
during the day, and its purpose was for private interviews and secluded
contests, or for certain other secret delights which will be unveiled in
the sequel. To reach the other wing, one had to retrace one's footsteps,
and once in the gallery, at the end of which an exceedingly handsome chapel
was visible, one entered the opposite wing which completed the circuit of
the inner courtyard. You discovered a splendid antechamber adjoined by four
superb apartments, each having a boudoir and wash cabinets; splendid
Turkish beds canopied in three-colored damask with matching furniture
adorned these suites whose boudoirs offered everything and more of the most
sensual that lubricity might fancy. These four units, exceptionally well-
heated and comfortable, were intended for the four colleagues, who were
perfectly lodged therein. In that the protocols stipulated that their wives
were to occupy the same quarters, no separate space was set aside for them.
     Upstairs, the second story contained about the same number of
apartments, but they were otherwise divided; you first came upon, to one
side, a vast room bordered by eight niches, each having a little bed -
these were the girls' quarters, and beside them were two small chambers for
the old women who were to have charge of them. Further along, a pair of
pretty rooms had been set aside for two of the storytellers. Now turning
about and going in the other direction, you found a similar eight-niched
room for the little boys; by it were two rooms for the duennas appointed to
supervise them; and beyond these were two more rooms, also alike, for the
two storytellers. Eight cheerful rooms, as fine as anything you have yet
seen, formed the eight fuckers' quarter, although these individuals were
destined to do very little sleeping in their own beds. Below, on the ground
floor, were the kitchens and, near them, six small chambers for the six
persons to whom the preparation of food had been confided; amongst them
were three cooks renowned for their art; they were all females, women
having been preferred for a pleasure outing like this one, and I believe
the decision was just. The cooks were assisted by three robust young
scullery maids, but none of the kitchen staff was to appear at the revels,
that was not its purpose, and if the rules imposed in this connection were
violated, 'tis merely because libertinage stops at nothing, and the true
way of extending and multiplying one's desires is to attempt to impose
checks upon them. One of these three underlings was to look after the
numerous livestock which had been fetched to the château - with the
exception of the four aged ladies who were meant for household duties,
there were no domestics save for these three cooks and their seconds. But
depravity, cruelty, disgust, infamy, all those passions anticipated or
experienced, had erected another locality whereof it is a matter of urgency
that we give the sketch, for the laws essential to the proper unfolding of
our tale demand that we depict it with thoroughness now.
     A fatal stone there was which, cunningly made, could be raised from
below the step of the altar in the little Christian temple we discerned
from the gallery; beneath that stone one beheld a spiral stairway, very
narrow and very steep, whose three hundred steps could convey you down into
the bowels of the earth, to a kind of vaulted dungeon, closed by triple
doors of iron, and in which was displayed everything the cruelest art and
the most refined barbarity could invent of the most atrocious, as much for
gripping one with terror as for proceeding to horrors. And there below,
what tranquillity! to what degree might not the villain be reassured who
brought his victim there! What had he to fear? He was out of France, in a
safe province, in the depths of an uninhabitable forest, within this forest
in a redoubt which, owing to the measures he had taken, only the birds of
the air could approach, and he was in the depth of the earth's entrails.
Woe, a hundred times woe to the unlucky creature who in the midst of such
abandonment were to find himself at the mercy of a villain lawless and
without religion, whom crime amused, and whose only interest lay in his
passions, who heeded naught, had nothing to obey but the imperious decrees
of his perfidious lusts. I know not what will transpire in that nether
place, but this I may say without doing our tale a disservice, that when a
description of the dungeon was given the Duc, he reacted by discharging
three times in succession.
     Everything being ready at last, everything perfectly disposed, the
subjects installed, the Duc, the Bishop, Curval, and their wives, with the
four second-ranking fuckers in their train, set off (Durcet and his wife,
together with all the rest, having arrived beforehand, as we have
previously noted), and not without infinite difficulty, finally reached the
château on the evening of the 29th of October. Immediately they crossed it,
Durcet had the bridge cut. But that was not all: having inspected the
place, the Duc decided that, since all the provisions were within the
fortress, and since therefore they had no need to leave it, it were
necessary, in order to forestall external attack, which was little dreaded,
and escapes from within, the possibilities of which were less unlikely, it
were necessary, I say, to have walled shut all the gates, all the passages
whereby the château might be penetrated, and absolutely to enclose
themselves inside their retreat as within a besieged citadel, without
leaving the least entrance to an enemy, the least egress to a deserter. The
recommendation was put into effect, they barricaded themselves to such an
extent there was no longer any trace left of where the exits had been; and
then they settled down comfortably inside.
     After the provisions we have just cited had been taken, the two days
still remaining before the 1st of November were devoted to resting the
subjects, that they might make a fresh appearance at the scenes of
debauchery soon to begin, and during this interval the four friends labored
over a code of laws which, as soon as it was brought to perfection and
signed, was promulgated to those concerned. Before advancing to the matter,
it is essential that these articles of government be made known to the
reader who, after the exact description we have given him of everything,
will now have no more to do than follow the story, lightly and
voluptuously, his mind impeded by nothing, his memory embarrassed by no
unexpected intrusions.
STATUTES
     The company shall rise every day at ten o'clock in the morning, at
which time the four fuckers who have not been in duty during the night
shall come to pay the friends a visit and shall each bring a little boy;
they shall pass from one bedchamber to another, successively. They shall
perform as bidden by the friends' likings and desires, but during the
preliminaries the little boys shall serve only as a tempting prospect, for
it has been decided and planned that the eight maidenheads of the little
girls' cunts shall remain intact until the month of December, and their
asses shall likewise remain in bond, as shall the asses of the eight little
boys, until the month of January, at which times the respective seals shall
be broken, and this in order to allow voluptuousness to become irritated by
the augmentation of a desire incessantly inflamed and never satisfied, a
state which must necessarily lead to that certain lascivious fury the
friends shall strive to provoke, considering it one of lubricity's most
highly delectable situations.
     At eleven o'clock, the friends shall repair to the quarters appointed
for the little girls. In that place will be served breakfast consisting of
chocolate, or of roasts cooked in Spanish wine, or of other appropriate
restoratives. This breakfast shall be served by the eight little girls,
naked, aided by the two elders, Marie and Louison, assigned to the seraglio
of girls, the other two elders being assigned to that of the boys. If,
during this breakfast, the friends are moved to commit impudicities with
the little girls, before or after, the latter shall lend themselves
thereunto with the resignation prescribed to them, and wherein they shall
not be found wanting without severe punishment being the consequence. But
it is agreed that at this hour there shall be undertaken no secret or
private exercises, and that if a moment's wantonizing be desired, it shall
be conducted openly and before the public present at the morning meal.
     These little girls shall adopt the general custom of kneeling at all
times whenever they see or meet a friend, and they shall remain thus until
told to stand; they, the wives, and the elders shall alone be subject to
these regulations, wherefrom the others are dispensed, but everyone shall
be bound never to address the friends save as my Lord.
     Before leaving the girls' apartments, that one of the friends who is
invested with the month's stewardship (it being intended that for the space
of a month one friend shall be in general supervision of everything, each
friend acceding to the office in his turn and in the following order:
Durcet during November, the Bishop during December, the President during
January, the Duc during February), he, then, who is the month's presiding
officer, before leaving the girls' quarters, shall inspect them all, to
determine whether they are in the state wherein they have been instructed
to maintain themselves, whereof the elders shall be each morning apprised
and which will be determined by the need that exists for them to keep in
such and such a state.
     As it is strictly forbidden to relieve oneself anywhere save in the
chapel, which has been outfitted and intended for this purpose, and
forbidden to go there without individial and special permission, the which
shall be often refused, and for good reason, the month's presiding officer
shall scrupulously examine, immediately after breakfast, all the girls'
water closets, and in the case of a contravention discovered in the one
above-designated place or in the other, the delinquent shall be condemned
to suffer the penalty of death.
     The friends shall move from there into the little boys' apartments in
order to perform the same inspections and similarly to pronounce capital
punishment against offenders. The four little boys who have not been that
morning with the friends, shall now receive them when they enter their
chamber and shall untrouser themselves before them, the other four shall
remain standing in attention, awaiting the orders which are given them.
Messieurs may or may not indulge in lewd byplay with the four they have not
until now seen during the day, but whatever they do shall be done publicly;
no intimate commerce shall be held at this hour.
     At one o'clock, those of the girls or the boys, of mature and of young
years, who have obtained permission to satisfy urgent needs, that is to
say, the heavier sort, and this permission shall never be put most
sparingly accorded, and at the most to a third of the subjects, those, we
repeat, shall betake themselves to the chapel where everything has been
artistically arranged for the voluptuous delights falling under this head.
In this place they will find the four friends who shall wait for them until
two o'clock and never any longer, and who shall distribute and adjust them
as they judge proper to the delights of this order which they may be moved
to taste.
     From two to three the first two tables shall be served: they shall
dine simultaneously, one in the girls' large apartment, the other in that
of the young boys: the three kitchen servants shall serve these two tables.
At the first shall sit the eight little girls and the four elders; at the
second the four wives, the eight little boys, and the four storytellers.
During their meal, Messieurs will be pleased to gather in the living room
where they will chat together until three o'clock. Just before this hour,
the eight fuckers shall make their appearance here, as well clothed and as
well adorned as it is in their power to be.
     At three shall be served the masters' dinner, and the honor to be
present there shall be enjoyed by none but the eight fuckers; this meal
shall be served by the four wives, entirely naked, aided by the four
elders, clad as sorceresses; to the latter shall fall the task of bringing
the plates from the towers into which the servants, on the other side,
shall have put them, and the plates shall be handed to wives, who shall
deposit them on the table. The eight fuckers, in the course of the dinner,
will be at liberty to handle and touch the unclothed bodies of the wives in
whatever manner and to whatever extent they please, without the said wives
being permitted to refuse or defend themselves; the fuckers will even be
able to go to the point of employing insults and of thickening their sticks
by apostrophizing them with all the invectives they may see fit to
pronounce.
     The friends shall rise from the table at five, at which time these
Messieurs only (the fuckers shall retire until the hour of general
assembly), these Messieurs only, I say, shall pass into the salon, where
two little boys and two little girls, who shall be changed daily, shall, in
a state of nudity, serve them coffee and liqueur; nor shall it be at this
point in the day's activities Messieurs shall permit themselves diversions
which might enervate them; conversation shall be limited to simple jesting.
     Shortly before six o'clock, the four children who have been serving,
shall withdraw and go promptly to dress themselves. At exactly six,
Messieurs shall pass into the assembly chamber heretofore described. They
shall each of them repair to their respective alcoves, and the following
distribution shall be observed by the others: upon the throne shall be the
storyteller, the tiers below the throne shall be occupied by the sixteen
children, so arranged that four of them, that is to say, two girls and two
boys, shall be situated directly opposite each niche; each niche shall have
before it a like quatrain; this quatrain shall be specially allocated to
the niche before which it is placed, the niches alongside being excluded
from making any claims upon it, and these quatrains shall be diversified
each day, never shall the same niche have the same quatrain. Each child in
each quatrain shall have one end of a chain of artificial flowers secured
to his arm, the other end of the chain leading to the niche, so that when
the niche's proprietor wishes any given child in his quatrain, he has but
to tug the garland, and the child shall come running and fling himself at
the master's feet.
     Above the quatrain shall be situate an elder, attached to the
quatrain, and responsive to the orders of the chief of that quatrain's
niche.
     The three storytellers who are not on active service as raconteurs
during the month shall be seated upon a bench at the foot of the throne,
assigned to no one but yet ready to do anyone's bidding. The four fuckers
appointed to spend the night with the friends may be absent from the
assembly; they shall be in their rooms, busy grooming themselves for the
coming night, at which time great feats shall be regularly expected of
them. With respect to the four others, they shall be each one at the feet
of one of the friends, who shall be in his niche and upon his couch beside
that one of the wives whose turn it is to be with any given husband. This
wife shall be at all times naked, the fucker shall wear a closefitting
singlet and shorts of taffeta, pink in color, the month's storyteller shall
be attired as an elegant courtesan, as shall be her three companions, the
little boys and the little girls of the quatrains shall always be
differently and splendidly costumed, one quatrain in Asiatic style, one in
Spanish, another in Turkish garb, a fourth in Greek, and on the following
day otherwise; but all these costumes shall be of taffeta or of lawn; at no
time shall the lower half of the body be discomfited by any raiment, and
the removal of a pin shall suffice to bare it completely.
     As for the elders, they shall alternately interpret the Graeae, nuns,
fairies, sorceresses, and upon occasion, widows. The doors to the closets
contiguous to the niches shall be kept at a warm temperature by stoves, and
shall be garnished with all the appurtenances required for various
debauches. Four candles shall burn in each of the closets, and fifty in the
auditorium.
     Punctually at six o'clock, the storyteller shall begin her story,
which the friends may interrupt at any point and as frequently as they
please; this narration shall last until ten o'clock in the evening, and
during this time, as its object is to inflame the imagination, every
lubricity will be permitted, save however for those which might be
prejudicial to the approved schedule of deflowerings, which shall be at all
times rigorously observed; apart from this, Messieurs may do what they like
with their fucker, wife, quatrain, quatrain elder, and even with the
storytellers if this whim move them, and that either in their niche or in
the adjacent closet. The narration shall be suspended for as long as the
pleasures of him whose needs interrupt it continue, and when he shall have
done and be sated, the tale shall be resumed.
     The evening meal shall be served at ten. The wives, the storytellers,
and the eight little girls shall without delay proceed to dine by
themselves, women never being admitted to the men's supper, and the friends
shall sup with the four fuckers not scheduled for night duty, and with four
little boys. Aided by the elders, the four other boys shall serve.
     The evening meal concluded, Messieurs shall pass into the salon for
the celebration of what are to be called the orgies. Everyone shall convene
there, both those who have supped apart and those who have supped with the
friends, the four fuckers chosen for the night's service being excepted.
     The salon shall be heated to an unusual temperature, and illuminated
by chandeliers. All present shall be naked: storytellers, wives, little
girls, little boys, elders, fuckers, friends, everything shall be pell-
mell, everyone shall be sprawled on the floor and, after the example of
animals, shall change, shall commingle, entwine, couple incestuously,
adulterously, sodomistically, deflowerings being at all times banned, the
company shall give itself over to every excess and to every debauch which
may best warm the mind. When 'tis time for these deflowerings, it shall be
at this moment and in these circumstances that those operations shall be
performed, and once a child shall be initiate, it shall be available for
every enjoyment, in all manners and at all times.
     The orgies shall cease at precisely two in the morning, the four
fuckers designated for nocturnal exercise shall come, in elegant undress,
to lead away each of them the friend wherewith he is to bed, each friend
shall be provided also with one of the wives or with a deflowered subject,
when deflowered subjects there be, or with a storyteller, or with an elder
to pass the night 'twixt her and his fucker, and all this according to his
disposition, whereunto but one clause is put, that he submit himself to
prudent arrangements whence it may result that each friend varies his
companions every night, or is able so to do.
     Such shall be the daily order of procedure. In addition, each week of
the seventeen prescribed as the period of the sojourn at the château shall
be marked by a festival. There shall be, first of all, marriages, full
particulars relating to which shall be made available in due time and
place. But as the first of these matches shall be made between the youngest
of the children, who are not able to consummate them, they will in no wise
disturb the schedule established for the deflorations. Marriages between
adults being all post-defloratory, their consummation will damage nothing
since, in acting, the friends shall be enjoying only what has been enjoyed
already.
     The four elders, to be held answerable for the behavior of their four
children, shall, when it is faulty, report it to the month's presiding
officer, and each Saturday there shall take place a common meting out of
punishments, at the time of the orgies. An exact list of accumulating
delinquencies shall be kept until then.
     With what regards misbehavior on the part of the storytellers, their
punishments shall be one-half that of the children, because their talents
are to some purpose, and talent must always be respected. As for errors in
the conduct of the wives, they shall always be rewarded by punishment
double that given the children.
     Should any subject in some way refuse anything demanded of him, even
when incapacitated or when that thing is impossible, he shall be punished
with utmost severity; 'tis for him to provide, for him to discover ways and
means.
     The least display of mirth, or the least evidence given of disrespect
or lack of submission during the debauch activities, shall be esteemed one
of the gravest of faults and shall be one of the most cruelly punished.
     Any man taken flagrante delicto with a woman shall punished by the
loss of a limb when authorization to enjoy this woman has not hitherto been
granted him.
    The slightest religious act on the part of any subject, whomsoever he
be, whatsoever be that act, shall be punished by death.
     Messieurs are expressly enjoined at all gatherings to employ none but
the most lascivious language, remarks indicative of the greatest
debauchery, expressions of the filthiest, the most harsh, and the most
blasphemous.
     The name of God shall never be uttered save when accompanied by
invectives or imprecations, and thus qualified it shall be repeated as
often as possible.
     With respect to their tone, it shall at all times be exceedingly
brutal, exceedingly harsh, and exceedingly imperious when addressing the
wives and the little girls, but wheedling, whorish, and depraved when
addressing the men whom the friends, by adopting with them the role of
women, should regard as their husbands.
     Any friend who fails to comply with any one of these articles, or who
may take it into his head to act in accordance with a single glimmer of
common sense or moderation and above all to spend a single day without
retiring dead drunk to bed, shall be fined ten thousand francs.
     Whenever a friend experiences the need to relieve himself heavily, a
woman from that class he considers fitting shall be obliged to accompany
him, to attend to those duties he shall during this activity indicate to
her.
     No subject, whether male or female, shall be allowed to fulfill duties
of cleanliness whatsoever they may be, and above all those consequent upon
the heavy need relieved, without express permission from the month's
presiding officer, and if it be refused him, and if despite that refusal he
surrender to this need, his punishment shall be of the very rudest.
     The four wives shall have no prerogatives of any kind over the other
women; on the contrary, they shall at all times be treated with a maximum
of rigor and inhumanity, and they shall be frequently employed upon the
vilest and most painful enterprises, such as for example the cleaning of
the private and common privies established in the chapel. These privies
shall be emptied only once every week, but always by them, and they shall
be severely punished if they resist the work or accomplish it poorly.
     Should a subject attempt evasion while the assembly is sitting, he
shall be punished by death instantly, whomsoever he be.
     The cooks and their assistants shall be respected, and those of the
friends who violate this article shall pay a fine of one thousand gold
louis. With regard to these fines, they shall all be specially employed,
upon the return to France, for the initial expenses incidental to a new
party, either in this same kind, or in another.
     These affairs being settled and these regulations published on the
30th, the Duc spent the morning of the 31st inspecting everything, having
the statutes repeated aloud, and scrupulously examining the premises to see
whether they were susceptible to assault or favorable to escape.
     Having concluded that one would have to have wings or the devil's
powers to get out or in, he reported his findings to the society and
devoted the evening to haranguing the women. By his order they were all
convoked in the auditorium, and having mounted that kind of tribune or
throne intended for the storyteller, here more or less is the speech he
delivered to them:
     "Feeble, enfettered creatures destined solely for our pleasures, I
trust you have not deluded yourselves into supposing that the equally
absolute and ridiculous ascendancy given you in the outside world would be
accorded you in this place; a thousand times more subjugated than would be
slaves, you must expect naught but humiliation, and obedience is that one
virtue whose use I recommend to you: it and no other befits your present
state. Above all, do not take it into your heads to rely in the least upon
your charms; we are utterly indifferent to those snares and, you may depend
on it, such bait will fail with us. Ceaselessly bear in mind that we will
make use of you all, but that not a single one of you need beguile herself
into imagining that she is able to inspire any feeling of pity in us.
Roused in fury against the altars that have been able to snatch from us
some few grains of incense, our pride and our libertinage shatter them as
soon as the illusion has satisfied our senses, and contempt almost always
followed by hatred instantly assumes the pre-eminence hitherto occupied by
our imagination. What, furthermore, might you offer that we do not know by
heart already? what will you tender us that we shall not grind beneath our
heels, often at the very moment delirium transports us?
     "Useless to conceal it from you: your service will be arduous, it will
be painful and rigorous, and the slightest delinquencies will be requited
immediately with corporal and afflicting punishments; hence, I must
recommend to you prompt exactness, submissiveness, and a total self-
abnegation that you be enabled to heed naught but our desires; let them be
your only laws, fly to do their bidding, anticipate them, cause them to be
born. Not that you have much to gain by this conduct, but simply because,
by not observing it, you will have a great deal to lose.
     "Give a thought to your circumstances, think what you are, what we
are, and may these reflections cause you to quake - you are beyond the
borders of France in the depths of an uninhabitable forest, high amongst
naked mountains; the paths that brought you here were destroyed behind you
as you advanced along them. You are enclosed in an impregnable citadel; no
one on earth knows you are here; you are beyond the reach of your friends,
of your kin: insofar as the world is concerned, you are already dead, and
if yet you breathe, 'tis by our pleasure, and for it only. And what are the
persons to whom you are now subordinated? Beings of a profound and
recognized criminality, who have no god but their lubricity, no laws but
their depravity, no care but for their debauch, godless, unprincipled,
unbelieving profligates, of whom the least criminal is soiled by more
infamies than you could number, and in whose eyes the life of a woman -
what do I say, the life of a woman? the lives of all women who dwell on the
face of the earth, are as insignificant as the crushing of a fly. There
will, doubtless, be few you, without the flutter of an eyelash lend
yourselves to them all, and faced with whatever it may be, show patience,
submission, and courage. If unhappily, some amongst you succumb to our
passions' intemperance, let her adjust bravely to her fate: we are not
going to exist forever in this world, and the most fortunate thing that can
befall a woman is to die young. Our ordinances have been read to you: they
are very wise and well-designed for your safety and for our pleasures; obey
them blindly, and expect the worst from us should we be irritated by your
misbehavior. Several amongst you have ties with us, I know, and perhaps
they embolden you, and perhaps you hope for indulgence on this account; you
would be most gravely mistaken were you to put much store by them: no blood
attachment is sacred in the view of people like ourselves, and the more
they seem so to you, the more their rupture will stimulate the perversity
in our spirits. Daughters, wives, it is to you, then, I address myself at
present: expect us to grant you no prerogative, you are herewith advised
that you will be treated with an even greater severity than the others, and
that specifically to point out to you with what scorn we view the bonds
whereby you perhaps think us constrained.
     "Moreover, do not simply wait for us to specify the orders we would
have you execute: a gesture, a glance, often simply one of our internal
feelings will announce our desire, and you will be as harshly punished for
not having divined it as you would be were you, after having been notified,
to ignore that desire or flout it. It is up to you to interpret our
movements, our glances, our gestures, to interpret our expressions, and
above all not to be mistaken as to our desires. Let us suppose, for
example, this desire were to see a particular part of your body and that,
through clumsiness, you were to exhibit some other - you appreciate to what
extent such contempt would be upsetting to our imaginations, and you are
aware of all that one risks by chilling the mind of a libertine who, let us
presume, is expecting an ass for his discharge, and to whom some fool
presents a cunt.
     "By and large, offer your fronts very little to our sight; remember
that this loathsome part, which only the alienation of her wits could have
permitted Nature to create, is always the one we find most repugnant. And
relative to your ass itself, there are precautions to observe: not only
would you be well-advised, upon presenting it, to hide the odious lair
which accompanies it, but it behooves you to avoid the display, at certain
moments, of an ass in that certain state wherein other folk desire always
to find it; you probably understand me; and furthermore, the four duennas
will furnish you later on with instructions which will complete the
explanation of everything.
     "In short: shudder, tremble, anticipate, obey - and with all that, if
you are not very fortunate, perhaps you will not be completely miserable.
No intrigues amongst you, no alliances, none of that ridiculous friendship
between the girls which, by softening the heart in one sense, in another
renders it both more ill-tempered and less well-disposed to the one and
simple humiliation to which you are fated by us; consider that it is not at
all as human beings we behold you, but exclusively as animals one feeds in
return for their services, and which one withers with blows when they
refuse to be put to use.
     "You have seen with what stringency you are forbidden anything
resembling any act of religion whatsoever. I warn you: few crimes will be
more severely punished than this one. It is only too well known that in
your midst there are yet a few fools unable to bring themselves to abjure
this infamous God and abhor his worship; I would have you know that these
imbeciles will be scrupulously examined, and there is no extremity they
will not suffer who are so unlucky as to be taken in the act. Let them be
persuaded, these stupid creatures, let them henceforth be convinced that in
all the world there are not twenty persons today who cling to this mad
notion of God's existence, and that the religion he invokes is nothing but
a fable ludicrously invented by cheats and impostors, whose interest in
deceiving us is only too clear at the present time. In fine, decide for
yourselves: were there a God and were this God to have any power, would he
permit the virtue which honors him, and which you profess, to be sacrified
to vice and libertinage as it is going to be? Would this all-powerful God
permit a feeble creature like myself, who would, face to face with him, be
as a mite in the eyes of an elephant, would he, I say, permit this feeble
creature to insult him, to flout him, to defy him, to challenge him, to
offend him as I do, wantonly, at my own sweet will, at every instant of the
day?"
     This little sermon concluded, the Duc descended from the chair and,
with the exception of the four elders and the four narrators, who knew very
well they were there as sacrificers and priestesses rather than as victims,
except for those eight individuals, I say, everyone burst into tears, and
the Duc, not much touched by the scene, left those enacting it to
conjecture, jabber, and complain to each other, in perfect certainty the
eight spies would render a thorough report of everything: and off he went
to spend the night with Hercule, the member of the troupe of fuckers who
had become his most intimate favorite in the capacity of a lover, little
Zephyr still having, as a mistress, the first place in his heart. In that
upon the following morning everything was to begin, the mechanism was to
start functioning, everyone accordingly completed final arrangements, went
soundly to sleep, and on the morrow at the stroke of ten, the curtain rose
upon a scene of libertinage which was to continue unimpeded, in strict
compliance with prescription, until and including the 28th day of February.
     And now, friend-reader, you must prepare your heart and your mind for
the most impure tale that has ever been told since our world began, a book
the likes of which are met with neither amongst the ancients nor amongst us
moderns. Fancy, now, that all pleasure-taking either sanctioned by good
manners or enjoyned by that fool you speak of incessantly, of whom you know
nothing and whom you call Nature; fancy, I say, that all these modes of
taking pleasure will be expressly excluded from this anthology, of that
whenever peradventure you do indeed encounter them here, they will always
be accompanied by some crime or colored by some infamy.
     Many of the extravagances you are about to see illustrated will
doubtless displease you, yes, I am well aware of it, but there are amongst
them a few which will warm you to the point of costing you some fuck, and
that, reader, is all we ask of you; if we have not said everything,
analyzed everything, tax us not with partiality, for you cannot expect us
to have guessed what suits you best. Rather, it is up to you to take what
you please and leave the rest alone, another reader will do the same, and
little by little, everyone will find himself satisfied. It is the story of
the magnificent banquet: six hundred different plates offer themselves to
your appetite; are you going to eat them all? No, surely not, but this
prodigious variety enlarges the bounds of your choice and, delighted by
this increase of possibilities, it surely never occurs to you to scold the
Amphitryon who regales you. Do likewise here: choose and let lie the rest
without declaiming against that rest simply because it does not have the
power to please you. Consider that it will enchant someone else, and be a
philosopher.
     As for the diversity, it is authentic, you may be sure of it; study
closely that passion which to your first consideration seems perfectly to
resemble another, and you will see that a difference does exist and that,
however slightly it may be, it possesses precisely that refinement, that
touch which distinguishes and characterizes the kind of libertinage
wherewith we are here involved.
     We have, moreover, blended these six hundred passions into the
storytellers' narratives. That is one more thing whereof the reader were
well to have foreknowledge: it would have been too monotonous to catalogue
them one by one outside the body of the story. But as some reader not much
learned in these matters might perhaps confuse the designated passions with
the adventure or simple event in the narrator's life, each of these
passions has been carefully distinguished by a marginal notation: a line,
above which is the title that may be given the passion. This mark indicates
the exact place where the account of the passions begins, and the end of
the paragraph always indicates where it finishes.
     But as numerous personages participate in a drama of this kind,
notwithstanding the care we have taken in this introduction to describe and
designate each one... we shall provide an index which will contain the name
and age of every actor, together with a brief sketch of them all; so that
should the reader, as he moves along, encounter what seems to him an
unfamiliar figure, he will have merely to turn back to this index, and if
this little aid to his memory suffice not, to the more thorough portraits
given earlier.
THE ROMANCE OF THE SCHOOL FOR LIBERTINAGE

DRAMATIS PERSONAE
     The Duc de Blangis, fifty, built like a satyr, endowed with a
monstrous member and prodigious strength; he may be regarded as the
depository of every vice and every crime. He has killed his mother, his
sister, and three of his wives.
     The Bishop of X*** is his brother; forty-five years old, more slender
and more delicate than the Duc; a nasty mouth. He is deceitful, adroit, a
faithful sectary of sodomy, active and passive, he has an absolute contempt
for all other kinds of pleasure, he has brought about the cruel deaths of
the two children whose sizable fortune was left in trust with him; he is a
nervous type, so sensitive he nearly swoons upon discharging.
     The President de Curval, sixty; a tall, thin, lank man, with sunken,
dead eyes, an unhealthy mouth, the walking image of low license and
libertinage, frightfully dirty about his body and attaching voluptuousness
thereto. He has been circumcised, his erection is rare and difficult, it
does take place however, and he ejaculates almost every day. His tastes
induce him to prefer men; all the same, he has no scorn for a maid. For
singularities in his tastes, he has a fondness for old age and whatever is
kin to him in filthiness. He is endowed with a member practically as thick
as the Duc's. In late years he has seemed as though unstrung by debauchery,
and he drinks a great deal. He owes his fortune solely to murders and is
nominally guilty of one, a dreadful one, whose details are contained in his
biography previously given. When discharging, he experiences a sort of
lubricious rage; it drives him to cruel deeds.
     Durcet, banker, fifty-three, a great friend of the Duc, and his
schoolmate; he is short, squat, and chubby, but his body looks healthy,
pretty, and lair. He has the figure of a woman and all a woman's tastes: by
his little firmness deprived from giving women pleasure, he has imitated
that sex and has himself fucked at any time of day or night. He is also
rather fond of a good mouthing, 'tis the only expedient which is able to
afford him an agent's pleasures. His pleasures are his only gods, and he is
constantly prepared to sacrify everything to them. He is clever, adroit,
and has committed a profusion of crimes; he poisoned his mother, his wife,
and her niece in order to assure his inheritance. His spirit is stoical,
stalwart his heart, and absolutely insensible to pity. He no longer
stiffens, his ejaculations are most rare; his instants of crisis are
preceded by a kind of spasm which hurls him into a lubricious fury
dangerous for those who are serving his passions.
     Constance, the Duc's wife, Durcet's daughter; twenty-two years of age,
she is a Roman beauty, with more majesty than finesse, plump, but well-
constructed, a superb body, a unique ass, a model ass, hair and eyes very
dark. She is not without brains or wit, and but too well senses the horror
of her fate. A great fund of native virtue nothing has been able to
destroy.
     Adelaide, Durcet's wife, the President's daughter; a pretty little
object, she is twenty, blond, very tender eyes of a lovely, animated blue,
she has about her everything of the romantic heroine. A long, well-attached
neck, her one defect is her mouth, which is a shade large. Small breasts
and a little ass, but all that, though delicate, is fair and well-molded. A
mind given to fantasy, a tender heart, excessively virtuous and believing;
she secretly performs her Christian duties.
     Julie, the President's wife, elder daughter of the Duc; she is twenty-
four, fat, fleshy, with fine brown eyes, a pretty nose, striking and
agreeable features, but an appalling mouth. She has little virtue and even
pronounced tendencies to uncleanliness, alcoholism, gluttony, and whoredom.
Her husband loves her for her defective mouth; this singularity appeals to
the President's tastes. She has never been given either principles or
religion.
     Aline, her younger sister, supposed daughter of the Duc, really one of
the Duc's wives and the Bishop's child; she is eighteen, has a very
agreeable and fetching countenance, abounding health, brown eyes, an
upturned nose, a mischievous air although she is profoundly indolent and
lazy. She seems as yet to have no temperament and most sincerely detests
all the infamies she is victim of. The Bishop baptized her behind at the
age of ten. She has been left in crass ignorance, knows neither how to read
nor write, she abhors the Bishop and greatly fears the Duc. She is much
attached to her sister, is sober and tidy, speaks oddly and like a child;
her ass is charming.
     Duclos, the first storyteller; forty-eight, preserves her looks, is in
good physical health, has the finest ass to be seen. Brunette, full figure,
very well fleshed.
     Champville is fifty; she is slender, well made, has lascivious eyes,
she is a tribade, and everything about her proclaims it. Her present trade
is pimping. She was once fair-haired, has pretty eyes, is long in the
clitoris and ticklish in that part, has an ass much worn from service, but
is none the less untupped in that place.
     Martaine is fifty-two; she's a procuress too, a matronly dame, hale
and hearty; inner obstructions have prevented her from ever knowing any but
Sodom's delights, for which indeed she seems to have been specially
created, for, her age notwithstanding, she has the world's noblest ass; it
is both broad and big and so habituated to introductions that she can
accommodate the weightiest engines without the flutter of an eyelash. She
has pretty features still, but they are beginning to fade.
     Desgranges is fifty-six; she is even now the greatest villain who has
ever lived; she is tall, slender, pale, and was once dark-haired, she is
crime's personification. Her withered ass resembles marbled paper, or
parchment, and its orifice is immense. She is one-dugged, is missing three
fingers and six teeth, fructus belli. There exists not a single crime she
has not perpetrated or engineered, her prattle is pleasing to the ear, she
has wit, and is currently one of the outfitters most highly respected by
society.
     Marie, the first of the duennas, is the youngest at fifty-eight; she
has been whipped and branded, and was a servant to thieves. Her eyes are
lackluster and running, her nose crooked, her teeth yellow, one buttock's
gnawed by an abscess. She has borne and killed fourteen children.
     Louison, the second duenna, is sixty; she is small, lame, one-eyed,
and hunchbacked, but for all that she has yet a very pretty ass. She is
always ready for crime and is extremely wicked. She and Marie are appointed
as governesses to the girls, and the two following to the boys.
     Therèse, aged sixty-two, looks like a skeleton, has no hair, no teeth,
a stinking mouth, an ass seamed with scars, its hole is of excessively
generous diameter. Filthy and fetid to an atrocious degree; she has a
twisted arm, and she limps.
     Fanchon, sixty-nine years old, has been six times hanged in effigy and
has perpetrated every crime under the sun; she squints, is flat-nosed,
short, heavy, has no forehead, two teeth only. An erysipelas covers her
ass, a bunch of hemorrhoids hangs from her hole, a chancre is eating her
womb, she has a burnt thigh, and a cancer gnaws her breast. She is
constantly drunk and vomits, farts, and shits here, there, and everywhere
all the time, and all unawares she is doing it.
HAREM OF LITTLE GIRLS
     Augustine, daughter of a Languedoc baron, fifteen years old, alert and
pretty little face.
     Fanny, daughter of a Breton counselor, fourteen, a sweet and tender
air.
     Zelmire, daughter of the Comte de Terville, seigneur of Beauce,
fifteen, a noble look and a very sensitive soul.
     Sophie, daughter of a gentleman from Berry, charming features,
fourteen years.
     Colombe, daughter of a counselor to the Parliament of Paris, thirteen
years old, exuberant health.
     Hebe, daughter of an Orleans officer, a very libertine air, charming
eyes, she is twelve.
     Rosette and Michette, both look like lovely virgins. The first is
thirteen and is the daughter of a Chalon-sur-Saône officer, the other is
twelve and is a daughter of the Marquis de Senanges; she was abducted from
her father's estate in Bourbonnais.
     Their figures, the rest of their features and chiefly their asses are
beyond all description. They were chosen from amongst one hundred and
fifty.
HAREM OF LITTLE BOYS
     Zelamir, thirteen, son of a Poitou squire.
     Cupidon, same age, son of a gentleman from near La Flèche.
     Narcisse, twelve, son of a nobleman situated in Rouen, Knight of
Malta.
     Zephyr, fifteen, son of a general living in Paris. He is destined for
the Duc.
     Celadon, son of a Nancy magistrate. He is fourteen.
     Adonis, son of a judge of a Paris assize court; fifteen, destined for
Curval.
     Hyacinthe, fourteen, son of a retired officer dwelling in Champagne.
     Giton, page to the King, twelve, son of a gentleman from the
Nivernais.
     No pen is capable of representing the graces, the features, and the
charms of these eight children superior also to all the tongue is empowered
to say, and chosen, as you know, from amongst a very large number.
EIGHT FUCKERS
     Hercule, twenty-six, very pretty, but also a very mean character, the
Duc's favorite; his prick measures eight and one-quarter inches around and
thirteen in length. Plentiful discharge.
     Antinoüs is thirty. A fine specimen of a man, his prick is eight
inches around and twelve inches long.
     Bum-Cleaver, twenty-eight years old, has the look of a satyr; his
majestic prick is bent saber fashion, its head, or glans, is enormous, it
is eight and three-eighths inches in circumference and the shaft eight in
length. A fine curve to this majestic prick.
     Invictus is twenty-five, he is exceedingly ugly, but healthy and
vigorous; the great favorite of Curval, he is continually aroused, and his
prick is seven and fifteen-sixteenths inches around by eleven inches long.
     The four others measure from nine to ten and fifteen-sixteenths inches
long, by from seven and a half and five-eights inches around, and they are
from twenty-five to thirty years of age.




PART THE FIRST
THE 150 SIMPLE PASSIONS, OR THOSE BELONGING TO THE FIRST CLASS, COMPOSING
THE THIRTY DAYS OF NOVEMBER PASSED IN HEARING THE NARRATION OF MADAME
DUCLOS; INTERSPERSED AMONGST WHICH ARE THE SCANDALOUS DOINGS AT THE CHÂTEAU
DURING THAT MONTH; ALL BEING SET DOWN IN THE FORM OF A JOURNAL.

THE FIRST DAY
     The company rose the 1st of November at ten o'clock in the morning, as
was specified in the statutes which Messieurs had mutually sworn faithfully
to observe in every particular. The four fuckers who had not shared the
friends' couches, at their waking hour brought Zephyr to the Duc, Adonis to
Curval, Narcisse to Durcet, and Zelamir to the Bishop. All four children
were very timid, even more awkward, but, encouraged by their guides, they
very nicely carried out their tasks, and the Duc discharged. His three
colleagues, more reserved and less prodigal with their fuck, had as much of
it deposited in them as did the Duc, but distributed none of their own.
     At eleven o'clock they passed into the women's quarters where the
eight young sultanas appeared naked, and in this state served chocolate,
aided and directed by Marie and Louison, who presided over this seraglio.
There was a great deal of handling and colling, and the eight poor girls,
wretched little victims of the most blatant lubricity, blushed, hid behind
their hands, sought to protect their charms, and immediately displayed
everything as soon as they observed that their modesty irritated and
annoyed their masters. The Duc rose up like a shot and measured his
engine's circumference against Michette's slender little waist: their
difference did not exceed three inches. Durcet, the month's preseding
officer, conducted the prescribed examinations and made the necessary
searches; Hebe and Colombe were found to have lapsed, their punishment was
pronounced at once and fixed for the following Saturday at orgy hour. They
wept. No one was moved.
     They proceeded to the boys' apartments. The four who had not appeared
that morning, namely Cupidon, Celadon, Hyacinthe and Giton, bared their
behinds in accordance with orders, and the sight provided an instant's
amusement. Curval kissed them all on the mouth, and the Bishop spent a
moment frigging their pricks while the Duc and Durcet were doing something
else. The inspections were completed, no misconduct was discovered.
     At one o'clock Messieurs betook themselves to the chapel where, as you
know, the sanitary conveniences were installed. The calculation of
requirements for the coming soiree having led to the refusal of a good
number of requests, only Constance, Duclos, Augustine, Sophie, Zelamir,
Cupidon, and Louison appeared; all the others had asked permission and had
been instructed to hold back until evening. Our four friends, ranged around
the same specially constructed seat, had these seven subjects take their
seat one after another, and then retired when they had enough of this
spectacle. They descended to the salon where, while the women dined, they
gossiped and tattled until the time came for them to be served their meal.
Each of the four friends placed himself between two fuckers, pursuant to
the imposed rule that barred all women from their table, and the four naked
wives, aided by the elders costumed as the Graeae, served them the most
magnificent and the most succulent dinner it were possible to concoct. No
one more delicate, more skilled than the cooks they had brought with them,
and they were so well paid and so lavishly provided that everything could
not fail to be a brilliant success. As the midday fare was to be less heavy
than the evening meal, they were restricted to four superb courses, each
composed of twelve plates. Burgundy wine arrived with the hors d'ouvres,
Bordeaux was served with the entrees, champagne with the roasts, Hermitage
accompanied the entrements, Tokay and madeira were served with dessert.
     Spirits rose little by little; the fuckers, whom the friends had
granted every liberty with their wives, treated them somewhat untenderly.
Constance was even a bit knocked about, rather beaten for having dawdled
over bringing a dish to Hercule who, seeing himself well advanced in the
Duc's good graces, fancied he might carry insolence to the point of
drubbing and molesting his wife; the Duc thought this very amusing. Curval,
in an ugly humor by the time dessert arrived, flung a plate at his wife's
face, and it might have clove her head in two had she not ducked. Spying
one of his neighbors stiffen, Durcet, though they were still at table,
promptly unbuttoned his breeches and presented his ass. The neighbor drove
his weapon home; the operation once concluded, they fell to drinking again
as if nothing had happened. The Duc soon imitated his old friend's little
infamy and wagered that, enormous as Invictus' prick might be, he could
calmly down three bottles of wine while lying embuggered upon it. What
effortlessness, what ease, what detachment in libertinage! He won what he
had staked, and as they were not drunk on an empty stomach, as those three
bottles fell upon at least fifteen others, the Duc's head began gently to
swim. The first object upon which his eye alighted was his wife, weeping
over the abuse she had sustained from Hercule, and this sight so inspired
the Duc he lost not an instant doing to her things too excessive for us to
describe as yet. The reader will notice how hampered we are in these
beginnings, and how stumbling are our efforts to give a coherent account of
these matters; we trust he will forgive us for leaving the curtain drawn
over a considerable number of little details. We promise it will be raised
later on.
     Our champions finally made their way into the salon, where new
pleasures and further delights were awaiting them. Coffee and liqueurs were
distributed by a charming quartet made up of Adonis and Hyacinthe, two
appealing little boys, and two pretty maids, Zelmire and Fanny. Therèse,
one of the duennas, supervised them, for it was decreed that wherever two
or more children were gathered, a duenna was to be on hand. Our four
libertines, half-drunk but none the less resolved to abide their laws,
contended themselves with kisses, fingerings, but their libertine
intelligence knew how to season these mild activities with all the
refinements of debauch and lubricity. It was thought for a moment that the
Bishop was going to have to surrender his fuck in exchange for the
extraordinary things he was wringing from Hyacinthe, while Zelmire frigged
him. His nerves were already aquiver, an impending crisis was beginning to
take possession of his entire being, but he checked himself, the tempting
objects ready to triumph over his senses were sent spinning and, knowing
there was yet a full day's work ahead of him, the Bishop saved his best for
the evening. Six different kinds of liqueur were drunk, three kinds of
coffee, and the hour sounding at last, the two couples withdrew to dress.
     Our friends took a fifteen minute nap, then moved into the throne
room, the place where the auditors were to listen to the narrations. The
friends took their places upon their couches, the Duc having his beloved
Hercule at his feet, near him, naked, Adelaide, Durcet's wife and the
President's daughter, and for quatrain opposite him, and linked to his
niche by a chain of flowers, as has been explained, Zephyr, Giton,
Augustine, and Sophie costumed as shepherds, supervised by Louison as an
old peasant woman playing the role of their mother.
     At Curval's feet was Invictus, upon his couch lay Constance, the Duc's
wife and Durcet's daughter, and for quatrain four little Spaniards, each
sex dressed in its costume and as elegantly as possible: they were Adonis,
Celadon, Fanny, and Zelmire; Fanchon clad as a duenna, watched over them.
     The Bishop had Antinoüs at his feet, his niece Julie on his couch, and
four little almost naked savages for quatrain. The boys: Cupidon and
Narcisse; the girls: Hebe and Rosette; an old Amazon, interpreted by
Therèse, was in charge of them.
     Durcet had Bum-Cleaver for fucker, near him reclined Aline, daughter
of the Bishop, and in front of him were four little sultanas, the boys
being dressed as girls, and this refinement to the last degree emphasized
the enchanting visages of Zelamir, Hyacinthe, Colombe, and Michette. An old
Arab slave, portrayed by Marie, presided over this quatrain.
     The three storytellers, magnificently dressed as upper-class Parisian
courtesans, were seated below the throne upon a couch, and Madame Duclos,
the month's narrator, in very scanty and very elegant attire, well rouged
and heavily bejeweled, having taken her place on the stage, thus began the
story of what had occurred in her life, into which account she was, with
all pertinent details, to insert the first one hundred and fifty passions
designated by the title of simple passions:
     'Tis no slight undertaking, Messieurs, to attempt to express oneself
before a circle such as yours. Accustomed to all of the most subtle and
most delicate that letters produce, how, one may wonder, will you be able
to bear the ill-shaped periods and uncouth images of a humble creature like
myself who has received no other education than the one supplied her by
libertinage. But your indulgence reassures me; you ask for naught but the
natural and true, and I dare say what of these I shall provide you will
merit your attention.
     My mother was twenty-five when she brought me into the world, and I
was her second child; the first was also a daughter, by six years my elder.
My mother's birth was not distinguished. She had been early bereft of both
her father and mother, and as her parents had dwelled near the Recollet
monastery in Paris, when she found herself an orphan, abandoned and without
any resources, she obtained permission from these good fathers to come and
ask for alms in their church. But as she had some youth and health, she
soon attracted their notice, and gradually mounted from the church below to
the rooms above, whence she soon descended with child. It was as a
consequence of one such adventure my sister saw the light, and it is more
likely that my own birth might rightly be ascribed to no other cause.
     However, content with my mother's docility and seeing how she did make
the community to prosper and flourish, the good fathers rewarded her works
by granting her what might be earned from the rental of seats in their
church; my mother no sooner obtained this post than, with her superior's
leave, she married one of the house's water carriers who straightway,
without the least repugnance, adopted my sister and me.
     Born into the Church, I dwelled so to speak more in the House of God
than in our own; I helped my mother arrange the chairs, I seconded the
sacristans in their various operations, I would have said Mass had that
been necessary, although I had not yet attained my fifth year.
     One day, returning from my holy occupations, my sister asked me
whether I had yet encountered Father Laurent....
     I said I had not.
     "Well, look out," said she, "he's on the watch for you, I know he is,
he wants to show you what he showed me. Don't run away, look him straight
in the eye without being afraid, he won't touch you, but he'll show you
something very funny, and if you let him do it he'll pay you a lot. There
are more than fifteen of us around here whom he's shown it to. That's what
he likes best, and he's given a present to us all."
     You may well imagine, Messieurs, that nothing more was needed, not
only to keep me from fleeing Father Laurent, but to induce me to seek him
out; at that age the voice of modesty is a whisper at best, and its silence
until the time one has left the tutelage of Nature is certain proof, is it
not, that this factitious sentiment is far less the product of that
original mother's training than it is the fruit of education? I flew
instantly to the church, and as I was crossing a little court located
between the entrance of the churchyard and the monastery, I bumped squarely
into Father Laurent. He was a monk about forty, with a very handsome face.
He stopped me.
     "Whither are you going, Francon?" he asked.
     "To arrange the chairs, Father."
     "Never fear, never fear, your mother will attend to them," said he.
"Come, come along with me," and he drew me toward a sequestered chamber
hard by the place. "I am going to show you something you have never seen."
     I follow him, we enter, he shuts the door and, having posted me
directly opposite him:
     "Well, Francon," says he, pulling a monstrous prick from his drawers,
an instrument which nearly toppled me with fright; "tell me," he continues,
frigging himself, "have you ever seen anything to equal it?... that's what
they call a prick, my little one, yes, a prick... it's used for fucking,
and what you're going to see, what's going to flow out of it in a moment or
two, is the seed wherefrom you were created. I've shown it to your sister,
I've shown it to all the little girls of your age, lend a hand, help it
along, help get it out, do as your sister does, she's got it out of me
twenty times or more.... I show them my prick, and then what do you suppose
I do? I squirt the fuck in their face.... That's my passion, my child, I
have no other... and you're about to behold it."
     And at the same time I felt myself completely drenched in a white
spray, it soaked me from head to foot, some drops of it had leapt even into
my eyes, for my little head just came to the height of his fly. However,
Laurent was gesticulating. "Ah! the pretty fuck, the dear fuck I am
losing," he cried, "why, look at you! You're covered with it." And
gradually regaining control of himself, he calmly put his tool away and
decamped, slipping twenty sous into my hand and suggesting that I bring him
any little companions I might happen to have.
     As you may readily fancy, I could not have been more eager to run and
tell everything to my sister; she wiped me dry, taking the greatest care to
overlook none of the spots, and she who had enabled me to earn my little
fortune did not fail to demand half of my wages. Instructed by this
example, I did not fail, in the hope of a similar division of the spoils,
to round up as many little girls for Father Laurent as I could find. But
having brought him one with whom he was already familiar, he turned her
away, the while giving me three sous by way of encouragement.
     "I never see the same one twice, my child," he told me, "bring me some
I don't know, never any of those who say they've already had dealings with
me."
     I managed more successfully; in the space of three months, I
introduced Father Laurent to more than twenty new girls, with whom, for the
sake of his pleasure, he employed the identical proceedings he had with me.
Together with the stipulation that they be strangers to him, there was
another relative for age, and it appeared to be of infinite importance: he
had no use for anything younger than four or older than seven. And my
little fortune could not have been faring better when my sister, noticing
that I was encroaching upon her domain, threatened to divulge everything to
my mother if I did not put a stop to this splendid commerce; I had to give
up Father Laurent.
     However, my functions continued to keep me in the neighborhood of the
monastery; the same day I reached the age of seven I encountered a new
lover whose preferred caprice, although very childish, was nevertheless
somewhat more serious. This one was named Father Louis, he was older than
Laurent, and had some unidentifiable quality in his bearing that was a
great deal more libertine. He sidled up to me at the door of the church as
I was entering it, and made me promise to come up to his room. At first I
advanced a few objections, but once he had assured me that three years ago
my sister had come for a visit and that he received little girls of my age
every day, I went with him. Scarcely were we in his cell when he closed and
bolted the door and, having poured some elixir into a goblet, made me
swallow it and then two more copious measures too. This preparatory step
taken, the reverend, more affectionate than his confrere, fell to kissing
me and, chattering all the while, he untied my apron and, raising my skirt
to my bodice, he laid hands, despite my faint strugglings, upon all the
anterior parts he had just brought to light; and after having thoroughly
fingered and considered them, he inquired of me whether I did not desire to
piss. Singularly driven to this need by the strong dose he had a few
moments earlier had me drink, I assured him the urge to do so was as
powerful as ever it could be, but that I did not want to satisfy it in
front of him.
     "Oh, my goodness, do! Why yes, my little rascal," quoth the bawdy
fellow, "by God yes, you'll piss in my presence and, what's worse, you'll
piss upon me. Here it is," he went on, plucking his prick from his
breeches, "here's the tool you're going to moisten, just piss on it a
little."
     And thereupon he lifted me up and set me on two chairs, one foot on
one chair, the other foot on the other, he moved the chairs apart as far as
was possible, then bade me squat. Holding me in this posture, he placed a
container beneath me, established himself on a little stool about as high
as the pot; his engine was in his hand, directly under my cunt. One of his
hands supporting my haunches, he frigged himself with the other, and my
mouth being at a level with his, he kissed it.
     "Off you go, my little one, piss," cried he, "flood my prick with that
enchanting liquid whose hot outpouring exerts such a sway over my senses.
Piss, my heart, care not but to piss and try to inundate my fuck."
     Louis became animated, excited himself, it was easy to see that this
unusual operation was the one which all his senses most cherished; the
sweetest, gentlest ecstasy crowned that very moment when the liquids
wherewith he had swollen my stomach, gushed most abundantly out of me, and
we simultaneously filled the same pot, he with fuck, I with urine. The
exercise concluded, Louis delivered roughly the same speech to me I had
heard from Laurent, he wished to make a procuress of his little whore, and
this time, caring precious little for my sister's threats, I boldly guided
every child I knew to dear Louis. He had every one of them do the same
thing, and as he experienced no compunction upon seeing any one of them a
second or third time, and as he always gave me separate payment, which had
nothing to do with the additional fee I extracted from my little comrades,
before six months had passed I found myself with a tidy little sum which
was entirely my own; I had only to conceal knowledge of it from my sister.
     "Duclos," the President interrupted at this point, "we have, I
believe, advised you that your narrations must be decorated with the most
numerous and searching details; the precise way and extent to which we may
judge how the passion you describe relates to human manners and man's
character is determined by your willingness to disguise no circumstance;
and, what is more, the least circumstance is apt to have an immense
influence upon the procuring of that kind of sensory irritation we expect
from your stories."
     "Yes, my Lord," Duclos replied, "I have been advised to omit no detail
and to enter into the most minute particulars whenever they serve to shed
light upon the human personality, or upon the species of passion; have I
neglected something in connection with this one?"
     "You have," said the President; "I have not the faintest notion of
your second monk's prick, nor any idea of its discharge. In addition, did
he frig your cunt, pray tell, and did he have you dandle his device? You
see what I mean by neglected details."
     "Your pardon, my Lord," said Duclos, "I shall repair these present
mistakes and avoid them in the future. Father Louis possessed a very
ordinary member, greater in its length than it was around and in general of
a most common shape and turn; indeed, I do recall that he stiffened rather
poorly and that it was not until the crisis arrived he took on a little
firmness. No, he did not frig my cunt, he was content to enlarge it with
his fingers as much as possible, so as to give free issue to the urine. He
brought his prick very close two or three times, and his discharge was
rapid, intense, and brief; nothing came from his mouth but the words: 'Ah,
fuck! piss, my child, piss the pretty fountain, piss, d'ye hear, piss away,
don't you see me come?' And, while saying that, he intermittently sprinkled
kisses on my mouth. They were not excessively libertine."
     "That's it, Duclos," said Durcet, "the President was right; I could
not visualize a thing on the basis of your first telling, but now I have
your man well in view."
     "One moment, Duclos," said the Bishop, upon seeing that she was about
to proceed. "I have on my own account a need rather more pressing than to
piss, it's had me in its grip for an age and I have the feeling it's got to
go."
     So saying he drew Narcisse to his alcove. Fire leapt from the
prelate's eyes, his prick stood up against his belly, foam flecked his
lips, it was confined fuck that wished absolutely to escape and which could
not be liberated save by violent means. He dragged his niece and the little
boy into his closet. Everything came to a pause; a discharge was regarded
as something far too portentous not to suspend everything the moment
someone was about to produce one; all was to concur to make it delicious.
But upon this occasion Nature's will did not correspond with the Bishop's
wishes, and several minutes after having retired to the closet, he emerged
from it, furious, in the same state of erection and, addressing himself to
Durcet, presiding officer for November:
     "Put that odd little fellow down for some punishment on Saturday," he
said, flinging the child ten feet away from him, "and make it severe, if
you please."
     It was apparent that the boy had not been able to satisfy Monseigneur,
and Julie whispered in her father's ear what had happened.
     "Well, by God, then take another," cried the Duc, "choose something
from one of our quatrains if nothing in yours suits you."
     "Ah, my satisfaction now would be far beyond the damned little that
would have been sufficient a moment ago," said the prelate. "You know to
what we are led by a thwarted desire; I'd prefer to restrain myself, but no
undue leniency with that poor little fool ," he continued, "that's what I
recommend..."
     "But be at ease, my dear Bishop," said Durcet, "I promise you he'll
get a good scolding, 'tis a fine idea to provide the others with an
example. I'm sorry to see you in such a state; try something else; have
yourself fucked."
     "Monseigneur," spoke up Martaine, "I feel myself greatly disposed to
satisfy you, were Your Excellency to wish it..."
     "No, no, Christ, no!" the Bishop cried, "don't you know that there are
a thousand occasions when one does not want a woman's asshole? I'll
wait...let Duclos continue, I'll get rid of it tonight, I'll have to find
the one I want. Proceed, Duclos."
     And the friends having laughed right heartily at the Bishop's
libertine frankness- "there are a thousand occasions when one does not want
a woman's asshole"- the storyteller resumed in these terms:
It was not long after I had attained the age of seven that one day,
following my custom of bringing one of my little comrades to Louis, I found
another monk with him in his cell. As that had never happened before, I was
surprised and wanted to leave, but Louis having reassured us, my little
friend and I went boldly in.
     "Well there, Geoffrey," Louis said to his companion, pushing me toward
him, "did I not tell you that she was nice?"
     "Why yes indeed, she is," said Geoffrey, taking me upon his knees and
giving me a kiss. "How old are you, my little one?"
     "Seven, Father."
     "Just fifty years younger than I," said the good father, kissing me
anew.
     And during this little dialogue, the sirup was being prepared and, as
it was customary, each of us swallowed three big glasses of it, but, as it
was not customary for me to drink when I brought Louis a toy, because he
only expected a sprinkling from the girl I brought, because I did not
usually stay for the ceremony but used to leave at once, for all these
reasons I was astonished by their actions, and in a tone of the most naive
innocence I inquired:
     "And why do you have me drink, good Father? do you want me to piss?"
     "To be sure, we do, my child," quoth Geoffrey, who still had me
squeezed between his thighs and whose hands were already straying over my
front, "yes, you're to piss, and the adventure is to take place with me; it
will be, perhaps, a little different from the other one you experienced
here. Come into my cell, let's leave Father Louis with your little friend,
and let's get to business ourselves; we'll return when all our needs are
satisfied."
     We left; before going, Louis told me in a whisper to be very obliging
with his friend, and said I'd not regret it if I were. Geoffrey's cell was
not far from Louis', and we reached it without being seen. No sooner inside
than Geoffrey, having barricaded the door, told me to get rid of my skirts.
I obeyed, he himself pulled my shift above my navel and, having seated me
on the edge of his bed, he spread my thighs as wide as it were possible, at
the same time thrusting me back in such a way my belly came into full view
and my weight rested entirely upon the base of my spine. He besought me to
keep in that position and to begin to piss immediately he gave one of my
thighs a little slap with his hand. Then, scrutinizing me for a moment in
this attitude, with one hand he separated the lips of my cunt, with the
other he unbuttoned his breeches and with quick and energetic movements
began to shake a dark, stunted little member which seemed not much inclined
to respond to what was required of it. To give it some encouragement, our
man set about doing his duty and proceeded to his chosen custom, the one
which procured him the greatest possible titillation - down he went on his
knees, I say, between my legs, spent another instant peering into the
little orifice I presented to his eye, several times applied his mouth to
it, between his teeth muttering certain luxurious phrases I cannot remember
because at the time I did not understand them, and continued to agitate
that sullen little member, which, though fearfully bullied, did not budge.
Finally, he sealed his lips to those of my cunt, I received the signal, and
instantly draining what my bladder contained into the gentleman's mouth, I
flooded him with a stream of urine he swallowed as fast as I launched it
into his gullet. Whereupon his member unfurled, and its proudly lifted head
throbbed against one of my thighs: I felt it bravely spray his debilitated
manhood's sterile issue. Everything had been so well managed he swallowed
the final drops at the same moment his prick, confused by his victory, wept
bloody tears over it. Trembling in every limbs, Geoffrey got to his feet,
and I observed that he no longer had for his idol, once the incense had
been extinguished, the same religious fervor he had while delirium,
inflaming his homage, still sustained its glory: he rather abruptly gave me
twelve sous, opened the door without asking me, as had the others, to bring
him girls (he was evidently furnished by someone else) and, pointing the
way to his friend's cell, told me to go there, said that he was in a hurry,
that he had his offices to perform, that he could not conduct me himself,
and then shut his door without affording me the chance to answer him.
     "Oh yes indeed!" said the Duc, "unnumbered are they who absolutely
cannot bear the instant when the illusion is shattered. It seems as if
one's pride suffers when one lets a woman see one in such a state of
feebleness, and disgust would appear to be the result of the discomfiture
one experiences at such moments."
     "No," said Curval, whom Adonis, kneeling, was frigging, and whose
hands were wandering over Zelmire, "no, my friend, pride has nothing to do
with it, but the object which is in the profoundest sense devoid of all
value save the one our lust endows it with, that object, I say, shows
itself for what in truth it is once our lubricity has subsided. The more
violent has been the irritation the more this object is stripped of its
attraction when this irritation ceases to sustain it, just as we are more
or less fatigued after greater or lesser exertion, and this aversion we
thereupon sense is nothing but the sentiment of a glutted soul whereunto
happiness is displeasing because happiness has just wearied it."
     "But from this aversion, all the same," spoke up Durcet, "is often
born a plan for revenge, whose fatal consequences have often been
observed."
     "Yes, but that's another matter," Curval replied, "and as the
aftermath of these recitals will perhaps afford us examples of what you're
saying, let's not anticipate through dissertations what will be naturally
produced of itself."
     "President, be frank," said Durcet: "on the verge of running amuck
yourself, I believe that at the present moment you prefer to prepare
yourself to feel how one enjoys than to discuss how one becomes disgusted."
     "Why, not at all, not a bit of it," said Curval, "I am as cool as
ice... To be sure, yes," he continued, kissing Adonis' lips, "this child is
charming... but he's not to be fucked; I know of nothing worse than your
damnable regulations... one must reduce oneself to things... to things...
Go on, Duclos, go on, continue, for I have the feeling I might perpetrate
something foolish, and I want my illusion to remain intact at least until I
go to bed."
     The President, perceiving his engine beginning to rebel, sent the two
children back to their posts and, lying down beside Constance, who, pretty
as she was, doubtless failed to stimulate him as much, he a second time
besought Duclos to resume her story; she did at once, as follows:
     I rejoined my little comrade. Louis had been serviced; not very well
pleased, we both left the monastery, I almost resolved not to return again.
Geoffrey's tone had wounded my little pride, and without probing further to
determine the origins of my displeasure, I liked neither its apparent cause
nor its consequences. However, it had been written in my destiny that I was
to have yet a few more adventures in that pious retreat, and the example of
my sister, who had, so she told me, done business with fourteen of its
inhabitants, was to convince me that I was still far from the end of my
tour. Three months after this last episode, I became aware of overtures
being made to me by another one of these reverend fathers, this one a man
of about sixty. He invented every kind of ruse to lure me to his room; one
of them succeeded, so well in fact that one fine Sunday morning I found
myself there, without knowing why or how it had happened. The old rascal,
known as Father Henri, shut and locked the door as soon as I had crossed
the threshold, and embraced me with exceeding warmth.
     "Ah, little imp!" cried he, transported with joy, "I've got you now,
you'll not escape me this time, ha!"
     The weather was extremely cold at the time, my little nose was running
as children's usually do in the winter; I drew out a handkerchief.
     "What's this? What's this? Be careful there," warned Henri, "I'm the
one who'll attend to that operation, my sweet."
     And having stretched me out upon his bed with my head a little to one
side, he sat down next to me and raised my head upon his lap. He peered
avidly at me, his eyes seemed ready to devour the secretion oozing from my
nose. "Oh, the pretty little snotface," said he, beginning to pant, "how
I'm going to suck her." Therewith bending down over me, and taking my nose
in his mouth, not only did he devour all the mucus between my nose and
mouth, but he even lewdly darted the tip of his tongue into each of my
nostrils, one after the other, and with such cleverness he provoked two or
three sneezes which redoubled the flow he desired and was consuming so
hungrily. But ask me for no details bearing upon this fellow, Messieurs,
nothing appeared, and whether because he did nothing, or because he did it
all in his drawers, there was nothing to be seen, and amidst the multitude
of his kisses and lecherous lickings there was nothing outstanding which
might have denoted an ecstasy, and consequently it is my opinion that he
did not discharge. All my clothes were in place, even his hands stayed
still, and I give you my word that this old libertine's fantasy might be
performed upon the world's most respectable and least initiated girl
without her being able to suppose there was anything lewd in it at all.
     But the same could not be said of the one that chance presented to my
consideration the same day I turned nine years old. Father Etienne, that
was the libertine's name, had several times asked my sister to bring me to
him, and she had got me to promise to go alone, for she was unwilling to
accompany me, fearing lest my mother, who already scented something in the
wind, might find out; well, I was planning to pay him a visit when, one
day, I ran directly into him in a corner of the church, near the sacristy.
His manner was so gracious, he argued so persuasively that he had no need
to drag me away by main force. Father Etienne was about forty, a healthy,
robust, strapping fellow. We were no sooner closeted together than he asked
whether I knew how to frig a prick.
     "Alas!" said I, blushing to the ears, "I don't even know what you're
talking about."
     "Well then I'll explain, my chit," said he, bestowing heartfelt kisses
upon my mouth and eyes, "my unique pleasure in this world is to educate
little girls, and the lessons I give are so excellent they prove
unforgettable. Begin by removing your skirts, for if I am to teach you how
you must proceed in order to give me pleasure, 'tis only fair that at the
same time I teach you what to do in order to receive it, and that lesson
cannot be a success if anything hinders us. Here we go. We shall begin with
you. What you behold down here," said he, placing his hand on my mound, "is
called a cunt, and this is what you must do in order to awaken very
felicitous sensations in it. With one finger - one will do - lightly rub
this little protuberance you feel here. It, by the way, is called the
clitoris."
     I followed instructions.
     "There, you see, that way, my little one, while one hand is busy
there, let one finger of your other hand gradually work its way into this
delicious crack...."
     He adjusted my hands.
     "That's the way, yes... Well! Don't you feel anything?" he asked,
keeping me to my task.
     "No, Father, I truly don't," I answered most naively.
     "Ah, that's because you are still too young, but two years from now
you'll see the pleasures it gives."
     "Wait," I interrupted, "I think something's happening."
     And with all imaginable vigor I rubbed the places he had pointed
out.... Yes, sure enough, a few faint titillations convinced me that what
I'd begun was worth continuing, and the extensive use I have made ever
since of this relief-providing exercise has more than once persuaded me of
my master's competence.
     "And now 'tis my turn," said Etienne, "for your pleasures arouse my
desires, and I simply must share them, my angel. Here we are; take this,"
he said, inviting me to grip a tool so monstrous my two little hands were
scarce able to close around it, "take this, my child, 'tis called a prick,
and this movement here," he went on, guiding my wrists in rapid jerks,
"this action is called frigging. Thus, by means of this action you frig my
prick. Go to it, my child, put all your strength to it. The more rapid and
persistent your movements, the more you will hasten a moment which, believe
me, I cherish. But bear one essential thing in mind," he added, all the
while directing my flying hands, "be careful at all times to keep the tip
uncovered. Never allow this skin, we call it the prepuce, to cover it over;
were this prepuce to happen to cover this part, which we call the glans,
all my pleasure would vanish. That's it; we're shortly going to see
something, my little one," my teacher continued, "watch me do on you what
you did on me."
     And pressing himself against my chest as he spoke and as I kept in
motion, he placed his hands so adroitly, he wriggled his fingers with such
high art that pleasure rose at last to grip me, and it is without a shadow
of a doubt to him I owe my initiation. And then, my head reeling, I
abandoned my task, and the reverend, not yet ready to complete it,
consented to forget his pleasure for a moment in order to devote himself
exclusively to cultivating mine; and when he had caused me to taste it all,
he had me resume the work my ecstasy had obliged me to interrupt, and very
expressly enjoined me to keep my mind strictly on what I was about and to
care for naught but him. I did so with all my soul. It was only just: I
surely owed him my thanks. I went so merrily to work, and I observed all
his instructions so faithfully that the monster, vanquished by such rapid
vibrations, finally spewed forth all its rage and covered me with its
venom. Thereupon Etienne seemed to go out of his mind, borne aloft in the
most voluptuous delirium; ardently he kissed my mouth, he fondled and
frigged my cunt, and the wildness in his speech still more emphatically
declared his disorder. Gross expressions, mingling with others of the most
endearing sort, characterized this transport, which lasted quite a while,
and whence at last the gallant Etienne, so unlike his piss-swallowing
colleague, emerged to tell me that I was charming, that he greatly hoped I
would come back to see him, and that he would treat me every time as he was
going to now: pressing a silver coin into my hand, he conducted me back to
the place he had brought me from and left me wonderstruck, thrilled and
enchanted with this latest good fortune. Feeling much better about the
monastery, I decided to return to it often in the future, persuaded that
the more I advanced in age, the more agreeable adventures I would meet with
there. But destiny called me elsewhere; more important events awaited me in
a new world, and upon returning to my house I learned news which was soon
to sober the elation produced in me by the happy outcome of my latest
experience.
     Here a bell was heard struck in the salon; it announced supper.
Whereupon Duclos, generally applauded for the auspicious little beginnings
she had made, descended from the stage, and, after having made a few
adjustments to repair the disorder all four of them seemed to be in, the
friends turned their thoughts to new pleasures and hastened to find out
what Comus held in store for them.
     This meal was to be served by the eight little girls, naked. Having
been wise enough to leave the auditorium a few minutes early, they stood
ready the moment the masters entered these fresh surroundings. The table
companions were to be twenty in number: the libertine quartet, the eight
fuckers, the eight little boys. But, still furious with Narcisse, the
Bishop wished to veto his presence at the banquet, and as it was perfectly
natural that they make allowances for one another's whims and observe a
mutual tolerance, no one raised his voice to contest the sentence, and the
poor little simpleton was confined alone in a dark closet to await that
stage in the orgies when perhaps Monseigneur might be inclined to make
friends with him again. The wives and the storytellers, dining apart, had
concluded their meal in great haste in order to be ready for the orgies,
the elders directed the movements of the eight little girls, and dinner was
begun.
     This meal, much heavier than the one which had been eaten earlier in
the day, was served with far greater opulence and splendor. I began with a
shellfish soup and hors d'oeuvres composed of twenty dishes; twenty entrees
came on next, and soon gave way to another twenty lighter entrees made up
entirely of breasts of chicken, of assorted game prepared in every possible
way. This was offset by a serving of roasts; everything of the rarest
imaginable was brought on. Next arrived some cold pastry, soon afterward
twenty-six entremets of every description and form. The table was cleared,
and what had just been removed was replaced by a whole array of cold and
hot sugared pastries. Dessert finally appeared: a prodigious number and
variety of fruits, though the season was winter, then ices, chocolate, and
the liqueurs which were taken at table. As for the wines, they varied with
each service: Burgundy accompanied the first; two kinds of Italian wine
came with the second and third; Rhine wine with the fourth; with the fifth,
Rhône wines; sparkling champagne with the sixth; two kinds of Greek wine
with the other two courses. Spirits were prodigiously roused, for, as
distinct from lunch, one was not granted permission during dinner to take
the waitresses to task, or with that same severity; these creatures, being
the very quintessence of what the company had to offer, had to be treated
rather more sparingly but, on the other hand, the friends indulged in a
furious round of impurities with them.
     Half-drunk, the Duc said he would not touch another drop, from now it
was Zelmire's urine or nothing, and he drained two large glasses of it
which he obtained by having the child climb upon the table and squat over
his plate. "Why, there's nothing to drinking weak young piss," said Curval
and, calling Fanchon to him: "Come hither, venerable bitch, I'd slake my
thirst at the very source." And thrusting his head between the old crone's
legs, he greedily sucked up the impure floods of poisonous urine she darted
into his stomach. And now their words grew heated, they argued various
philosophical problems and considered several questions relating to
manners; I leave it to the reader to imagine the purity of those discourses
and the loftiness of their moralizing. The Duc undertook an encomium of
libertinage, and proved that it was natural, and that the more numerous
were its extravagances, the better they served the creator of us all. His
opinion was generally acclaimed, enthusiastically applauded, and they rose
to go and put into practice the doctrines which had just been established.
Everything was ready in the orgy salon: the women were there, already
naked, lying upon piles of pillows on the floor, strewn promiscuously
amongst the young catamites who had hastened away from table a little after
dessert. Our friends reeled in; two elders undressed them, and they fell
upon the flock like wolves assailing a sheepfold. The Bishop, whose
passions had been cruelly irritated by the obstacles they had encountered
of late, laid hands on Antinoüs' sublime ass while Hercule skewered him,
and vanquished by this latest sensation and by the important and doubtless
so much desired service Antinoüs was rendering him, he finally spat out
streams of semen so hard driven and so pungent he swooned in ecstasy.
Bacchus' wiles had spellbound senses glutted from excess, numbed from
luxury; our hero passed from his faint to a sleep so profound he had to be
carried to his bed. The Duc was having a marvelous time. Curval,
recollecting what Martaine had offered the Bishop, stuffed her while he got
his own ass stoppered. A thousand other horrors, a thousand other infamies
accompanied and succeeded those, and our three indomitable champions - for
the Bishop no longer was of this world - our valorous athletes, I say,
escorted by the four night-toiling fuckers who had not been at the revels
but who now came to fetch them, retired with the same wives who had shared
their couches during the story time. Luckless victims of their brutality,
upon whom it is only too likely they showered more outrages than caresses
and who, it is equally probable, inspired in them more disgust than
pleasure. . . .
     Such were the events that transpired on the first day.




THE SECOND DAY
    The company rose at the customary hour. The Bishop, entirely recovered
from his excess, and who, waking at four in the morning, was deeply shocked
to find they had let him go to bed unaccompanied, had summoned Julie and
his fucker for the night to come and occupy their posts. They answered the
call instantly, and in their arms the libertine plunged back into the thick
of new impurities.
    When, in keeping with regulations, breakfast had been taken in the
girls' quarters, Durcet went on his rounds, and, notwithstanding all the
arguments he heard, further delinquencies appeared to his eyes. Michette
was guilty of one kind of fault and Augustine, whom Curval had ordered to
keep herself throughout the day in a certain state, was found in the
absolutely opposite state; she declared she had forgotten, made a hundred
apologies, and promised it would not happen again, but the quadrumvirate
was inexorable, and both names were inscribed on the list of punishments to
be executed come the first Saturday.
     Highly dissatisfied with all these little girls' ineptness in the art
of masturbation, annoyed by the effects of this awkwardness with which he
had been obliged to put up the previous evening, Durcet proposed that one
hour in the morning be set aside for giving them lessons, and that the
friends take turns rising an hour early, the exercise period being set from
nine until ten - one friend would rise at nine every morning, I say, to
participate in the training. It was decided that the supervisor would be
seated comfortably in a chair in the middle of the harem and that each
little girl, led forth and guided by Duclos, the best frigger in the
castle, would demonstrate upon the friend, would direct the little girl's
hand, her motion, would explain the intricacies of tempo, how much and how
little speed was required and how that depended on the patient's condition,
would also explain what attitudes and postures were most conducive to the
operation's success; furthermore, punishments were fixed for her who at the
end of a fortnight, despite the lessons, should fail of perfect proficiency
in this art. It was emphasized to the little girls that, pursuant to the
good ecclesiastic's doctrines, the glans was to be kept uncovered at all
times, and that the hand not in action was meanwhile continually to be
employed exciting the adjacent areas, this in keeping with the particular
fancy of the patient.
    The financier's proposal pleased everyone; Duclos was informed, she
accepted her appointment, and that same day she set up a frigging dummy
upon which, in their spare time, the little girls could exercise their
wrists and maintain the necessary degrees of agility and suppleness.
Hercule was given the same instructorship in the boys' chamber; they being,
as always, more skilled in this technique than the girls, because in the
case of boys it is merely a question of doing for others what they do unto
themselves, a week was ample time to turn them into the most delicious
corps of friggers you could ever hope to meet with. On this particular
morning, not one of them was found at fault, and Narcisse's behavior of the
previous day having brought about the refusal of all permissions, the
chapel was empty save for Duclos, a pair of fuckers, Julie, Therèse,
Cupidon, and Zelmire. Curval was stiff as a ramrod, Adonis had inspired an
astonishingly high temperature in him when, that morning, he had visited
the boys, and it was generally thought he would erupt while watching
Therèse and the two fuckers manage their affairs; but he kept a grip upon
himself.
    The midday meal was the usual affair, but the President, having drunk a
singular amount and frolicked about even more while eating, became inflamed
all over again when coffee was served by Augustine and Michette, Zelamir
and Cupidon, directed by old Fanchon, whom out of whimsy they had commanded
to be as naked as the children. From this contrast Curval's new lubricious
furor was born, and he gave himself over to some choice extravagances at
the expense of Zelamir and the duenna; this riotous conduct finally cost
him his fuck.
    The Duc, pike aloft, closed in upon Augustine; he brayed, he swore, he
waxed unreasonable, and the poor little thing, all atremble, retreated like
a dove before the bird of prey ready to pounce upon it. He limited himself,
however, to a few libertine kisses, and was content to give her an
introductory lesson in advance of the ones she was to begin the following
morning. The two others, less animated, having already started their naps,
our two champions imitated them, and the quartet did not wake until six
o'clock, the hour when the storytelling began in the throne room.
    All the previous day's quatrains had been altered with respect to both
subjects and dress, and our friends had these couch companions: the Duc
shared his niche with Aline, the Bishop's daughter and consequently his own
niece; beside the Bishop lay his sister-in-law, Constance, the Duc's wife
and Durcet's daughter; Durcet was with Julie, the Duc's daughter, the
President's wife; that he might be roused from sleep and roused to more,
Curval had with him Adelaide, Durcet's wife, one of the creatures in this
world it gave him the greatest pleasure to tease because of her virtue and
her piety. He opened up with a few scurrile jests and low pranks, and
having ordered her throughout the seance to maintain a posture that sorted
well with his tastes, but which the poor woman found very tiresome to
maintain, he threatened her with all his anger might produce were she to
budge or give him a moment's inconvenience. Everything being ready, Duclos
ascended the platform and resumed her narration in this wise:
    Three days having elapsed since my mother had appeared at the house,
her husband, far more uneasy about his belongings and his money than about
her, took it into his head to enter her room, where it was their custom to
hide their most precious possessions; and what was his astonishment when,
instead of what he was seeking, he found nothing but a note, written by my
mother, advising him to make the best of his loss because, having decided
to leave him forever, and having no money of her own, she had been forced
to take all she had been able to make off with. As for the rest, he was to
blame himself and his hard use of her for her departure and for her having
left him with two daughters who were, however, certainly worth as much as
and possibly more than what she had removed. But the old gaffer was far
from judging equal what now he had and what he had just lost, and the
dismissal he graciously gave us, together with the request we not even
sleep in the house that night, was convincing evidence some discrepancy
existed between his way of reckoning and my mother's.
    Not much afflicted by a compliment which gave us full liberty to launch
forth unimpeded into the little mode of life that was beginning to please
us so much, my sister and I thought only to collect our few belongings and
to bid as swift a farewell to our dear stepfather as he had seen fit to bid
us. Without the loss of a minute, we withdrew, and while waiting to decide
how best to come to grips with our new destinies, we took lodgings in a
small room in the neighborhood. Our first thoughts turned to what might be
our mother's fate and whereabouts; we had not the least doubt but that she
had gone to the monastery, having decided to live secretly with some
father, or that she was being kept somewhere in the vicinity, and this was
the opinion we held, without being unduly concerned, when a friar from the
monastery brought us a note that bore out our conjectures. The substance of
the note was that we would be very well advised, immediately night had
fallen, to come to the monastery and speak to the Father Superior, who was
the note's author; he would wait for us in the church until ten o'clock and
would lead us to the place presently occupied by our mother, whose actual
happiness and peace he would gladly have us share. He very energetically
urged us not to fail to come, and above all to conceal our movements with
all possible care; for it was essential our stepfather know nothing of what
was being done in behalf of both our mother and ourselves. My sister,
fifteen years old at the time and hence more clever and more reasonable
than I, who was but nine, after having dismissed the bearer of the letter
and given him the reply that she would ponder its contents, admitted she
found all these maneuvers very peculiar indeed.
    "Francon," says she, "let's not go. There's something wrong with it. If
this were an honest proposal, why wouldn't Mother have either added a few
words or made some kind of sign. Father Adrien, her best friend, left there
almost three years ago, and since then she's only dropped in at the
monastery while passing by, and hasn't had any other regular intrigue
there. What would have led her to choose this place for hiding? The Father
Superior isn't her lover and never has been. I know, it's true she has
amused him two or three times, but he's not the man to lose his head over a
woman for that slender reason: he's even more inconstant and brutal to
women once his caprice is satisfied. And so why would he have taken such an
interest in our mother? There's something queer about it, I tell you. I
never liked that old Superior; he's wicked and harsh, and he's a brute.
Once he got me into his room, there were three more of them there, and
after what happened to me then I swore I'd never set foot in the place
again. If you take my advice, you'll leave all those nasty monks alone.
There's no reason why I shouldn't tell you so now, Francon, I have an
acquaintance, a good friend, I dare say; her name is Madame Guerin, I've
been going to her place for the past two years, and in all that time not
one week has gone by without her arranging something nice for me. But none
of those six-penny fucks like the ones at the monastery; I get at least
three crowns from every one. Here, there's proof of it," my sister
continued, showing me a purse containing more than ten louis, "you can see
I'm able to make my own way in the world. Well, my advice to you is to do
what I do. Guerin will take you on, I'm sure of it, she got a glimpse of
you a week ago when she came to fetch me for a party, and she told me to
make you a proposal, and she said that, young as you are, she'd always find
some way of placing you. Do like me, I tell you, and we'll be well off in
no time. Now, that's all I've got to say to you; I'll pay your expenses for
tonight, but from then on don't count on me, little sister. Each for
himself in this world. That's what I say. I've earned that money with my
body and my fingers, do the same yourself. And if you have any qualms, go
talk it over with the devil, but don't come looking for me; well, I've told
what I think, and I'll tell you now that I'd sooner stick my tongue two
feet out than give you even a glass of water for nothing. As for Mother, I
don't care what's happened to her, as a matter of fact, even if it's the
worst I'm perfectly delighted, and all I hope is that the whore is far
enough away so I'll never see her again for the rest of my life. I know all
the things she did to prevent me from getting anywhere in the trade, and
all the while she was giving me that fine advice, the bitch was doing
things three times worse. So, may the devil take her and above all not
bring her back, that's all I care."
    Not having, to tell you the truth, a heart more tender, nor a soul much
more generous than my sister's, it was in all good faith I echoed the
invectives wherewith she pilloried that excellent mother, and thanking my
sister for the helpful words she promised to speak in my behalf, I in my
turn promised to follow her to this woman's house and, once I had been
adopted, to put an end to my reliance on her. As for refusing to go to the
monastery, we were fully agreed.
    "If indeed she is happy, so much the better for her," I commented, "and
in that case we can look out for our own welfare without having to go and
submit to the same fate. And if it is a trap they're setting for us, we've
got to avoid it."
    Whereupon my sister embraced me.
    "Splendid," said she, "I see you're a good girl. Don't worry, we're
going to make a fortune. I'm pretty, so are you; we'll earn as much as we
want, my chit, but don't become attached to anyone, remember that. One
today, another tomorrow, you've got to be a whore, a whore in body and
soul. As for myself," she went on, "I'm one now, such as you see me, and
there isn't any confessional, or priest, or counsel, or threat that could
ruin things for me. By Jesus, I'd go show my ass on the sidewalk as calmly
and coolly as I'd drink a glass of wine. Imitate me, Francon, be amenable
and you can get anything out of men; the trade's a little hard in the
beginning, but you'll get along and things get better. So many men, so many
tastes. At first you've got to expect it, one of them wants one thing,
another wants something else. But that doesn't matter, you're there to
please and give them service; the customer is always right. It doesn't take
long, and then the money's in your pocket."
    I admit I was amazed to hear such wild remarks from a girl so young,
who had always seemed to me so decent. But as my heart beat in harmony with
the spirits of what she said, I let her know at once that I was not only
disposed to duplicate all her actions, but even prepared to go a great deal
further if necessary. Delighted with me, she fell to embracing me again,
and as it was growing late, we sent out for a chicken and some good wine
and supped and slept together, having decided to present ourselves the very
next morning at the establishment of Madame Guerin and to ask her to
include us amongst her pensionnaires.
     It was during that supper my sister taught me all I still did not know
about libertinage. She showed herself naked to me, and I can warrant that
she was one of the prettiest creatures there was in Paris at the time: the
fairest of skin, the most agreeable plumpness, yet the most supple and
intriguing figure, the loveliest blue eyes, and all the rest
correspondingly fine. I also learned for how long Guerin had been promoting
her interests, and with what great pleasure she procured her clients who,
never tired of her, asked for her constantly. No sooner were we in bed than
it occurred to us we had managed very badly in failing to give the Father
Superior a reply, for our negligence might annoy him, and while we remained
in this quarter of town it was important to humor him at least. But what
was to be done? Eleven o'clock had struck; we resolved to let things take
their course.
     The adventure probably meant a great deal to the Superior, we
supposed, and hence it was not difficult to surmise that he was laboring
more in his own behalf than in that of the alleged happiness he had
mentioned in his communication; at any rate, midnight had just sounded when
we heard a soft knocking at our door. It was the Superior himself; he had
been waiting for us, said he, since two in the afternoon, we should at
least have given him a response, and, seating himself at our bedside, he
informed us that our mother had decided to spend the rest of her days in a
little secret apartment they had at the monastery and in which she was
having the world's most cheerful time, improved by the company of all the
house's bigwigs who would drop in to spend half the day with her and with
another young woman, our mother's companion; it was simply up to us to come
and increase the number, but, in that we were a little too young to stay on
permanently, he would only contract us to a three-year's stint, at the end
of which he swore we would be granted our freedom and a thousand crowns
apiece; he added that he had been charged by our mother to assure us that
we would be doing her a great kindness were we to come to share her
solitude.
    "Father," my sister said most imprudently, "we thank you for your
proposal. But at our age we have no inclination to have ourselves locked up
in a cloister in order to be whores for priests, we've had enough of that
already."
    The Superior renewed his arguments, he spoke with a heat and energy
which illustrated his powerful desire to have the thing succeed; finally
observing that it was destined to fail, he hurled himself almost in a fury
upon my sister.
    "Very well, little whore," he cried, "at least satisfy me once again
before I take my leave."
     And unbuttoning his breeches, he got astride her; she offered no
resistance, persuaded that by allowing him to have his way she'd be rid of
him all the sooner. And the smutty fellow, pinning her between his knees,
began to brandish and then to abuse a tough and rather stout engine,
advancing it to within a quarter of an inch of my sister's face.
    "Pretty face," he gasped, "pretty little whore's face, how I'll soak it
in my fuck, by sweet Jesus!"
    And therewith the sluices opened, the sperm flew out, and the entirety
of my sister's face, especially her nose and mouth, were covered with
evidence of our visitor's libertinage, whose passion might not have been so
cheaply satisfied had his design in coming to us met with success. More
complacent now, the man of God's only thoughts were of escape; after having
flung a crown upon the table and relit his lantern:
    "You little fools, you are little tramps," he told us. "You are ruining
your chances in this world; may Heaven punish your folly by causing you to
fall on evil days, and may I have the pleasure of seeing you in misery;
that would be my revenge, that is what I wish you."
    My sister, busy wiping her face, paid him back his stupidities in kind,
and, our door shutting behind the Superior, we spent the remainder of the
night in peace.
    "You've just seen one of his favorite stunts," said my sister. "He's
mad about discharging in girls' faces. If he only confined himself to
that... but the scoundrel has a good many other eccentricities, and some of
them are so dangerous that I do indeed fear..."
    But my sister was sleepy, she dozed off without completing her
sentence, and the morrow bringing fresh adventures with it, we gave no more
thought to that one.
    We were up early; having prettied ourselves as much as possible, we set
out for Madame Guerin's. That heroine lived in the rue Soli, in a very neat
ground-floor apartment she shared with six tall young ladies between the
ages of sixteen and twenty-two, all in splendid health, all very pretty.
But, Messieurs, you will be so kind as to allow me to postpone giving their
descriptions until the proper moment in my story arrives. Delighted by the
project which brought my sister to her for a long stay, Madame Guerin
greeted us cordially and with the greatest pleasure showed us our rooms.
    "Young as you may find this child to be," my sister said as she
introduced me, "she will serve you well, I guarantee it. She is mild-
tempered, thoughtful, has a very good character, and the soul of a
thoroughgoing whore. You must have a number of old lechers amongst your
acquaintances who are fond of children; well this is just what they're
looking for... put her to work."
    Turning in my direction, Guerin asked me if I was willing to undertake
anything.
     "Yes, Madame," I answered with something of an indignant air, and it
pleased her, "anything provided it pays."
     We were introduced to our new companions, who already knew my sister
very well and our of friendship for her promised to look after me. We all
sat down to dine together, and such, in a few words, Messieurs, was how I
became installed in my first brothel.
     I was not to remain long unemployed; that same evening, an old
businessman arrived wrapped up in a cloak; Guerin selected him for my first
customer and arranged the match.
     "Ah, this time," said she to the old libertine, leading me forth, "if
it's still hairless you like them, Monsieur Duclos, you'll be delighted
with the article, or your money back. Not a hair on her body."
     "Indeed," said the old original, peering down at me, "it looks like a
child, yes indeed. How old are you, little one?"
     "Nine, Monsieur."
     "Nine years old! ... Well, well! that's how I like them, Madame
Guerin, that's how I like them, you know. I'd take them even younger if you
had any around. Why, bless my soul, they're ready as soon as they're
weaned."
     And laughing good-naturedly at his remarks, Guerin withdrew, leaving
us alone together. Then the old libertine came up and kissed me upon the
mouth two or three times. With one of his hands guiding mine, he had me
pull from his fly a little device that could not have been more limp;
continuing to act more or less in silence, he untied my skirts, lay me upon
the couch with my blouse raised high upon my chest, mounted astride my
thighs which he had separated as far as possible; with one hand he pried
open my little cunt while the other put all his strength into manipulating
his meager machine. "Ah, pretty little bird," he said as he agitated
himself and emitted sighs of pleasure, "ah, how I'd tame you if I were
still able to, but I can't anymore. There's no remedy for it, in four
year's time this bugger of a prick will have ceased to get stiff. Open up,
open up, my dearest, spread your legs." And finally after fifteen minutes
of struggle, I observed my man to sigh and pant with greater energy. A few
oaths lent strength to his expression, and I felt the area surrounding my
cunt inundated with the hot, scummy seed which the rascal, unable to shoot
it inside, was attempting to tamp down with his fingertips.
     He had no sooner done so than he was gone like a flash of lightning,
and I was still cleaning myself when my gallant passed out on the door and
into the street. And so it was I came, Messieurs, to be named Duclos; the
tradition in this house was for each girl to adopt the name of her
firstcomer. I obeyed the custom.
     "One moment there," said the Duc. "I delayed interrupting you until
you came to a pause; you are at one now. Would you provide further
information upon two matters: first, have you ever had any news of your
mother, have you ever discovered what became of her? Secondly, was there
any cause for the antipathy you and your sister had for her, or would you
say these feelings were naturally inculcate in you both? This relates to
the problem of the human heart, and 'tis upon that we are concentrating our
major efforts."
     "My Lord," Duclos replied, "neither my sister nor I have ever heard
the slightest word from that woman."
     "Excellent," said the Duc, "in that case it's all very clear, wouldn't
you say so, Durcet?"
     "Incontestably," answered the banker. "Not a shadow of a doubt, and
you are very fortunate you did not put your foot in that one. Neither of
you would ever have got out."
     "'Tis incredible," Curval commented, "what headway that mania has made
with public."
     "Why, no; after all, there's nothing more delicious," the Bishop
replied.
     "And the second point?" asked the Duc, addressing the storyteller.
     "As for the second point, my Lord, that is to say, as for the reason
for our antipathy, I'm afraid I should be hard pressed to account for it,
but it was so violent in our two hearts that we both made the avowal that
we would in all probability and very easily have poisoned her had we not
managed, as it turned out, to be rid of her by other means. Our aversion
had reached the ultimate degree of intensity, and as nothing overt occurred
to give rise to it, I should judge it most likely that this sentiment was
inspired in us by Nature."
     "What doubt of it can there be?" said the Duc. "It happens every day
that she implants the most violent inclination to commit what mortals call
crimes, and had you poisoned her twenty times over, this act would never
have been anything but the result of the penchant for crime Nature put in
you, a penchant she wishes to draw your attention by endowing you with such
a powerful hostility. It is madness to suppose one owes something to one's
mother. And upon what, then, would gratitude be based? is one to be
thankful that she discharged when someone once fucked her? That would
suffice, to be sure. As for myself, I see therein naught but grounds for
hatred and scorn. Does that mother of ours give us happiness in giving us
life? ...Hardly. She casts us into a world beset with dangers, and once in
it, 'tis for us to manage as best we can. I distinctly recall that, long
ago, I had a mother who aroused in me much the same sentiments Duclos felt
for hers: I abhorred her. As soon as I was in a position to do so, I
dispatched her into the next world; may she roast there; never in my life
have I tasted a keener delight than the one I knew when she closed her eyes
for the last time."
     At this point dreadful sobs were heard to come from one of the
quatrains. It proved to be the Duc's; upon closer examination it was
discovered that young Sophie had burst into tears. Provided with a heart
unlike those villains', their conversation had brought to mind the
cherished memory of her who had given her life, and who had perished in an
effort to protect her while she was being abducted; this cruel vision
offered itself to her tender imagination, a flood of tears ensued.
     "Ah, by God, now!" said the Duc, "that's splendid. It's for mama
you're crying, is it, my little snotface? Come here, come along, let me
comfort you."
     And the libertine, warmed by what had been happening, by these words
of his, and by the effects they produced, displayed a thunderous prick
which was apparently speeding toward a discharge. Marie, the quatrain's
duenna, led the child forward all the same. Her tears flowed abundantly
down her cheeks, the novice's dress she was wearing that day seemed to lend
yet more charm to the sorrow which embellished her looks: it was impossible
for a creature to be lovelier.
     "By the Holy Bugger," quoth the Duc, springing up like one gone out of
his mind, "what a pretty mouthful we have here. I'm going to do what Duclos
has just described... smear some fuck on her cunt... Undress her."
     And everyone silently awaited the issue of this little skirmish.
     "Oh! my Lord, my Lord!" cried Sophie, casting herself at the Duc's
feet, "at least respect my sorrow, I groan for my mother's fate, she was
dear to me, she died defending me, I shall never see her again. Have pity
upon my tears, grant me this one evening of respite."
     "Why, fuck my eyes!" the Duc exclaimed, fondling his heaventhreatening
prick, "I'd never have believed this scene could be so voluptuous. Off with
her clothes, I tell you to take them off," he roared at Marie, "she should
already be naked."
     And Aline, lying upon the Duc's couch, shed warm tears, so did
Adelaide, who was heard to utter a moan in Curval's alcove; the latter, in
no wise partaking of that lovely creature's grief, violently scolded his
playmate for having shifted from the position he had commanded her to keep,
and, that done, turned an appreciative gaze upon the delicious scene whose
outcome interested him exceedingly.
     Sophie's clothes are removed without the faintest regard for her
feelings, she is placed in the posture Duclos has just described, the Duc
announces that he is about to discharge. But how is the thing to be done?
What Duclos has just related had been performed by a man virtually
incapable of an erection, and he had been able to direct his flabby prick's
discharge wherever he wished. Such was not the case here: the threatful
head of the Duc's engine had not the least inclination to lower the awful
stare whereby it seemed bent on cowing heaven; it appeared necessary, so to
speak, to place the child on high. No one knew what to do, and the more
obstacles were encountered, the more the enraged Duc fumed and blasphemed.
Desgranges finally came to the rescue; nothing that pertained to
libertinage was unknown to that sage old dame. She caught up the child and
set her so skillfully upon her knees that, whatever the stance the Duc
might adopt, the end of his prick was sure to nudge her vagina. Two
servants came up to hold Sophie's legs, and had it been her deflowering
hour, never might she have displayed the merchandise to better advantage.
But there was yet more to attend to: a clever hand was needed to cause the
torrent to leap its banks and to direct the flood fairly to its
destination. Blangis had no desire to entrust so important a matter to an
untutored child.
     "Take Julie," Durcet suggested, "she'll suit you; she's beginning to
frig like an angel."
     "Bah," muttered the Duc, "I know the clumsy bitch. And she knows her
father. No, she'd be panic-stricken, she'd fumble it."
     "Upon my soul, I do recommend a boy for the job," said Curval; "why
not Hercule? His wrist is like a whip."
     "I won't have anyone but Duclos," the Duc answered, "she's the best of
our friggers, allow her to quit her post for a moment or two."
     Duclos steps forward, beaming with pride to have been accorded so
distinguished a preference. She rolls her sleeve to the elbow and grasps
the nobleman's enormous instrument, she sets to rattling that spear, keeps
the foreskin snapped broadly back, she moves it with such art, she agitates
it by means of strokes so swift and simultaneously so perfectly attuned to
the state she observes her patient to be in, that the bomb finally explodes
upon the very hole it is to cover, inundating it. The Duc shrieks, swears,
storms. Duclos is disconcerted not in the least, she gauges her movements
by the degree of pleasure they produce. Antinoüs, properly situated for
this function, delicately works the sperm into the vagina as proportionally
it flows from the spigot, and the Duc, vanquished by the most delicious
sensations, dying from joy, sees grow gradually slack, between his
frigger's fingers, that high-spirited, mettlesome member whose ardor has
just been so powerfully communicated to the rest of himself. He flings
himself back upon his sofa, Duclos strides back to her throne, the child
wipes herself, is consoled, and regains her quatrain, and the recital
continues, leaving the spectators convinced of a truth wherewith, I
believe, they have already been penetrated for a long time: that the idea
of crime is able always to ignite the senses and lead us to lubricity.
    I was greatly surprised, said Duclos, taking up the thread of her
narrative, to see all my companions laugh when I returned, and ask me if I
had wiped myself, and say a thousand other things which proved they knew
perfectly well what had just happened. I was not long left in my quandary;
leading me into a room adjacent to the one in which the parties ordinarily
took place and in which a short while before I had been at work, my sister
showed me a hole to see everything that transpired there. She told me that
the young ladies found it diverting to watch what men did to their
colleagues; I could come and do some spying whenever I wished, provided
there was not someone already at the hole. For it not infrequently
occurred, said she, that this respectable hole had a part in mysteries
which would be disclosed to me later on. The week was not out before I took
advantage of my opportunities: one morning someone came and asked for a
girl named Rosalie, one of the most lovely blondes it were possible to
behold; I was curious to see what was to be done to her. I hid myself and
witnessed the following scene.
    The man with whom she had to cope was no older than twenty-six or
thirty. Immediately she entered, he had her sit down on a very high stool
used especially for this ceremony. As soon as she was settled, he removed
all her combs and hairpins and down all the way to the floor floated in a
cloud the superb golden hair that adorned Rosalie's head. He drew a comb
from his pocket, combed her hair, took handfuls of it, tangled it, kissed
it, everything he did was accompanied by remarks praising the beauty of
that hair in which he took such a keen and exclusive interest. At last,
from out of his trousers he pulled a smart little prick, already quite
stiff, and he promptly enveloped it in his Dulcinea's hair; once well
wrapped, he began to fondle his dart and discharged, at the same time
passing his other arm around Rosalie's neck and applying his lips to her
mouth. He extricated his defunct engine, I saw that my companion's hair was
matted with glistening fuck; she cleaned it, put it up again, and our
lovers separated.
    A month later, someone came in quest of my sister; this personage, I
was told by the others, merited observing, for he had a most baroque
specialty. He was a man of about fifty. Straightway he entered, without any
preamble, without a caress, he exhibited his behind to my sister, who knew
her part to perfection; he has her take her place on the bed, he backs
toward her, she seizes that flaccid and wrinkled old ass, drives her five
fingers into the orifice, and begins to struggle and battle and worry it
with such force the bed creaks. Be that as it may, without bringing
anything else to light, our man wriggles, twitches, follows my sister's
movements, lends himself luxuriously to this fearful abuse, cries he is
coming, comes, and affirms this is the greatest of all pleasures. He had
indeed taken a furious buffeting, my sister was in a sweat; but what mild
stuff! what lack of imagination!
    Although the gentleman with whom I had to do not long afterward was
hardly more difficult to satisfy, he at least seemed more voluptuous and,
in my view, his mania had more of the libertine tincture. He was a heavy-
set man of about forty-five, short, sturdy, but energetic and hearty. Never
having met a person with his predilection, my first act, as soon as we were
alone together, was to hoist my skirts to the navel: a dog confronted by a
hickory stick could not have looked more unhappy: "Good God, dearie, let's
not have any of your cunt, please put it away." So saying, he snatched down
my skirts even more hastily than I had raised them. "These poor little
whores," he mumbled, screwing up his face in a pout, "never have anything
but cunts to show you. I may not be able to discharge this evening, thanks
to that exhibition... unless I can succeed in getting the accursed image of
that cunt out of my head." Whereupon he turned me about and methodically
raised my petticoats from behind. Guiding me himself, and keeping my skirts
raised at all times, he moved me about in order to observe how my buttocks
bounced when I walked, and then he had me approach the bed, upon which he
had me lie belly down. Next, with the most scrupulous attention he examined
my ass, with one hand screening his eyes to avoid any glimpse of my cunt
whereof, it appeared, he was in mortal terror. At last, having warned me to
do all in my power to conceal that unworthy (I employ his expression) part
from his sight, he brought both hands to bear on my ass and manipulated it
lewdly and at length: he opened it, he closed it again, spread and squeezed
it, sometimes he applied his mouth to it, and once or twice I even felt him
press his lips to the hole; but he still had not touched himself, nothing
could be discerned. None the less, he must have felt hidden pressures mount
and readied himself for the denouement of his little ritual. "Lie down," he
told me, tossing a few pillows on the floor, "yes, down there, that's it,
that will do... with your legs well spread, the ass a shade higher, and the
hole stretched as wide open as it will go; come now, wider still," he
continued, noticing my docility. And then, taking a stool and placing it
between my legs, he sat down in such a way that his prick, which he now
dragged from his breeches and began to vibrate, was as it were at a level
with the hole upon which he was to offer a libation. His movements now grew
more rapid, with one hand he frigged himself, with the other he separated
my buttocks, and a few adulatory commendations seasoned with a quantity of
hard language constituted his speech. "Ah, bugger the Almighty, here 'tis,
the lovely ass," he cried, "the sweet little hole, and how I'm going to wet
it." He kept his word. I felt myself soaked; his ecstasy seemed to
annihilate the libertine. Ah, how true it is that the homage rendered at
this temple is always more ardent than the incense which is burned at the
other; and my worshipper left after promising to return to see me again,
for he averred I satisfied his desires very well. He did indeed come back
the next day, but was untrue to me, his inconstancy led him to my sister's
asshole; I observed them, saw everything: every aspect of the rite was
absolutely the same, and my sister lent herself to it with the same good
will.
    "Did your sister have a handsome ass?" Durcet inquired.
    "You may judge by one fact, my Lord," Duclos replied. "A famous painter
commissioned to do a Venus with a magnificent behind asked her the
following year to be his model after having, he said, consulted every
procuress in Paris without finding anything to equal her."
    "Well now, since she was fifteen and since we have a few girls of the
same age here, compare her ass," the financier continued, "with some of the
asses you see in this room."
    Duclos' eyes came to rest upon Zelmire, and she told Durcet that it
would be impossible, not only with respect to the ass, but even with
respect to the face, to find anyone who bore a closer resemblance to her
sister.
    "In that case," said Durcet, "come here, Zelmire, present your cheeks."
    She did indeed belong to his quatrain; the charming girl approached all
atremble. She was placed at the foot of the couch, made to lie upon her
belly, her rump was raised by means of cushions, the little hole was in
plain sight. The lecher's prick begins to rise, he falls to kissing and
fondling what lies under his nose. He orders Julie to frig him, she sets to
work, his hands stray hither and yon, snatching at divers objects, lust
heats his brain, under Julie's voluptuous treatment his little prick looks
as if it were about to stiffen, the lecher swears, the fuck flows, and the
bell sounds for dinner.
    As the same profusion reigned at every meal, to have described one is
to have described them all; but as almost everyone had discharged, there
was a general need to recuperate strength, and therefore the friends drank
a great deal at this supper. Zelmire, to whom they gave the sobriquet of
Duclos' sister, was to an uncommon degree regaled during the subsequent
orgies, and everyone simply had to kiss her ass. The Bishop left a puddle
of fuck thereon, the three others restiffened over it, and they went to bed
as they had the night before, that is to say, each with the wife he had had
upon his couch, and with one of the four fuckers who had not appeared since
the midday meal.




THE THIRD DAY
    The Duc was abroad at nine o'clock. 'Twas he who volunteered to be the
first to lend a hand in the lessons Duclos was to administer to the little
girls. He installed himself in an armchair and for one long hour submitted
to various fondlings, masturbations, pollutions, and to a wide variety of
tricks performed by each of those little ones who, throughout it all, were
guided and supervised by their mistress; and as may be readily imagined,
his spirited temperament was furiously aroused by the ceremony. He was
obliged to make unbelievable efforts to preserve his fuck from loss, but,
more or less in control of himself, he managed to contain himself and
returned to his friends in triumph, boasting that he'd just weathered an
assault he defied any one of them to beat off as phlegmatically. That
brought on considerable wagering, the stakes were high, a fine of fifty
louis was ultimately imposed upon whoever discharged during the lessons.
    Instead of taking breakfast and conducting searches, this morning was
employed in drawing up a program for the seventeen orgies planned for the
end of each week, in this way definitively to fix the dates of the
deflowerings now that, after having become better acquainted with the
subjects than they had been previously, they were able to pass legislation.
In that this timetable in the most decisive manner regulated all the
operations to be executed during the campaign, we have deemed it necessary
to provide the reader with a copy: it seems to us that, once he has perused
it and familiarized himself with the subjects' several destinies, he will
be able to take a keener interest in their individual persons.
SCHEDULE OF WORKS TO BE ACCOMPLISHED
DURING THE REMAINDER OF THE PARTY
    On the 7th of November, at which time the first week will have drawn a
close, Messieurs shall proceed in the morning to the marriage of Michette
and Giton, and those two wedded individuals, whose age forbids them from
conjoining, as is true in the cases of three following couples, shall be
separated on their marriage night, for to closet them together would be as
futile as this ridiculous ceremony which will serve only to create
diversion during the day. That same evening, punishments which have
accumulated and been entered on the list kept by the month's presiding
officer shall be meted out.
    On the 14th, Messieurs shall in the same way effect the marriage of
Narcisse and Hebe, with the same clauses as those cited above.
    On the 21st, in the same way, Colombe and Zelamir shall be married.
    On the 28th, Cupidon and Rosette.
    On the 4th of December, Champville's narrations having prepared the way
for the following enterprises, the Duc shall deflower Fanny.
    On the 5th, the said Fanny shall be wedded to Hyacinthe who, in the
presence of the company assembled, shall take his pleasure with his young
wife. In such will consist the fifth week's festival, and the corrections
shall take place in the evening as usual, because the marriages shall be
celebrated in the morning.
    On the 8th, Curval shall deflower Michette.
    On the 11th, the Duc shall deflower Sophie.
    On the 12th, to celebrate the sixth week's festival, Sophie shall be
married to Celadon, and the clauses cited for the above-mentioned marriage
shall be made to apply to this one; this shall not be repeated for those to
follow.
    On the 15th, Curval shall deflower Hebe.
    On the 18th, the Duc shall deflower Zelmire, and on the 19th, in order
to celebrate the seventh week's festival, Adonis shall marry Zelmire.
    On the 20th, Curval shall deflower Colombe.
    On the 25th, Christmas Day, the Duc shall deflower Augustine, and on
the 26th, for the eighth week's festival, Zephyr shall marry Augustine.
    On the 29th, Curval shall deflower Rosette, and all the foregoing
arrangements have been made to insure that Curval, less well membered than
the Duc, be provided with more youthful girls.
    On the 1st of January, the first day of the year and one upon which
Martaine's newly begun narration will influence imaginations to consider
new pleasures, the sodomistic deflorations shall be inaugurated, and shall
proceed in the following order:
    On the 1st of January, the Duc shall sound Hebe's ass.
    On the 2nd, in celebration of the ninth week, Hebe, having been plumbed
fore by Curval, from behind by the Duc, shall be turned over to Hercule,
who, before the company assembled, shall employ her for purposes to be
specified upon the occasion.
    On the 4th, Curval shall embugger Zelamir.
    On the 6th, the Duc shall embugger Michette; on the 9th, in celebration
of the tenth week's festival, the said Michette, who will have been
deflowered fore by Curval, and whose ass will have been tried by the Duc,
shall be turned over to Bum-Cleaver, that he may enjoy her, etc., etc.
    On the 11th, the Bishop shall sodomize Cupidon.
    On the 13th, Curval shall sodomize Zelmire.
    On the 15th, the Bishop shall sodomize Colombe.
    On the 16th, for the eleventh week's festival, Colombe, whose cunt will
have been deflowered by Curval, her ass by the Bishop, shall be turned over
to Antinoüs, who shall enjoy her, etc.
    On the 17th, the Duc shall embugger Giton.
    On the 19th, Curval shall embugger Sophie.
    On the 21st, the Bishop shall embugger Narcisse.
    On the 22nd, the Duc shall embugger Rosette.
    On the 23rd, for the twelfth week's festival, Rosette shall be turned
over to Invictus.
    On the 25th, Curval shall march into Augustine's behind.
    On the 28th, the Bishop shall enter Fanny's.
    On the 30th, for the thirteenth week's festival, the Duc shall take
Hercule for his husband and Zephyr for his wife, and the marriage shall be
both accomplished and consummated before the eyes of everyone, as shall be
the three others which follow.
    On the 6th of February, for the fourteenth week's festival, Bum-Cleaver
shall become Curval's husband, Adonis his wife.
    On the 13th of February, for the fifteenth week's festival, Antinoüs
shall be made husband to the Bishop, to him shall Celadon be made a wife.
    On the 20th of February, for the sixteenth week's festival, Invictus
shall as a husband be wedded to Durcet, Hyacinthe as a wife.
    As for the festival of the seventeeth week, due to fall on the 27th of
February, upon the eve of the narrations' conclusion, it shall be
celebrated by sacrifices for which Messieurs reserve themselves in petto
the choice of victims.
    These arrangements provide for the obliteration of all maidenheads by
the 30th of January, with the exception of those of the four young boys
whom Messieurs are to marry as wives, and whom they are eager to preserve
intact until their weddings, in order that their amusement be made to last
until the end of the party.
    As the objects are progressively depucelated, they shall the place of
the wives upon the couches at storytelling time, and, at nighttime, they
shall lie with Messieurs, alternately, and at Messieurs' choice, together
with the last four fairies Messieurs will take to themselves as wives
during the final month.
    From the moment a girl or a depucelated boy shall have replaced a wife
upon the couch, the said wife shall be repudiated. From this moment onward,
she shall be in general discredit, and shall be ranked lower than the
servants.
    With regard to Hebe, aged twelve, Michette, aged twelve, Colombe, aged
thirteen, and Rosette, aged thirteen, as progressively they are surrendered
to the fuckers and exercised by the latter, they too shall fall into
discredit, shall henceforth be used for none but harsh and brutal purposes,
shall rank with the repudiated wives, and shall be treated with utmost
rigor. And as of the 24th of January, all four of them will have descended
to the same inferior level.
    This schedule affirms that unto the Duc shall fall nine celages: the
first encuntments of Fanny, Sophie, Zelmire, Augustine, the original
embuggeries of Hebe, Michette, Giton, Rosette, and Zephyr.
    Unto Curval shall fall the cunt-pucelages of Michette, Hebe, Colombe,
Rosette, the ass-pucelages of Zelamir, Zelmire, Sophie, Augustine, and
Adonis, being in all nine deflorations.
    Unto Durcet, who does not fuck at all, is reserved the ass-pucelage of
Hyacinthe, who in the capacity of a wife shall be wedded to him.
    And unto the Bishop, who fucks naught but asses, are reserved the
sodomistical depucelations of Cupidon, of Colombe, of Narcisse, of Fanny,
and of Celadon.
    The entire day having been spent preparing this program and chatting
about it, and no one having been found at fault, all went uneventfully
ahead, the storytelling hour arrived; everyone took his place, the
illustrious Duclos mounted the stage. She proceeded in this wise:
    A young man, whose mania, although not in my opinion very libertine, is
none the less curious enough, appeared at Madame Guerin's shortly after the
adventure I spoke of yesterday. He had to have a young and healthy wet
nurse; he suckled the good woman's teat and leaked his seed over her thighs
while gorging himself on her milk. His prick struck me as paltry and mean,
all his person rather puny, and his discharge was as mild as his
proceedings were benign.
    Another one appeared in the same room the next day; his mania will
doubtless prove more entertaining to you. He insisted upon having his woman
enveloped in a sheet so that her face and breast would be entirely hidden
from him, the single part of her body he wanted to see, and which had to be
of the highest degree of excellence, was her ass, all the rest meant
nothing to him, and he assured Madame Guerin that a glimpse of anything
else would anger him exceedingly. Guerin had a woman brought in from the
outside: she was ugly to the point of bitterness and almost fifty years
old, but her buttocks were molded like those of Venus, nothing more
beautiful could ever bewitch one's gaze.
    I was eager to see this operation; the old duenna, well wrapped up, was
told at once to lie belly down on the edge of the bed. Our libertine, a man
of about thirty and who seemed to me a gentleman of the cloth, lifts her
skirts above her loins, is thrilled by what greets his eyes and flatters
his tastes. He touches, he spreads this superb breech, showers passionate
kisses upon it, and, his imagination fired by what he supposes rather than
by what he would actually have seen had the woman been unveiled and even
had she been attractive, he fancies he is holding commerce with Aphrodite
herself, and at the end of a fairly brief career, his engine hardens thanks
to the jerks and jolts, and unlooses a warm rain over the ensemble of the
sublime ass exposed to his view. His discharge was sharp and impetuous. He
was seated facing the adored idol; one of his hands opened it while with
the other he polluted it, and he cried ten times in succession: "Ah, what a
beautiful ass! Ah, what a delight to drown such an ass in fuck!" He rose
when done, and left without indicating the least desire to find out with
whom he had been dealing.
    A young abbot called for my sister a short time afterward. He was
youthful and handsome, but one could scarcely discern his prick, so minute
and soft it was. He stretched his almost naked partner on a couch, knelt
down between her thighs, supporting her buttocks with both hands, with one
of them tickling the pretty little hole in her behind. Meanwhile, he
conveyed his mouth to my sister's cunt. He tickled its clitoris with his
tongue, and managed so cunningly, so harmoniously synchronized the two
activities, that within the space of three minutes he had plunged her into
a delirium; I saw her head toss about, her eyes begin to roll, and heard
the rascal cry: "Ah, my dear Reverend Father, you're slaying me with
pleasure!"
    The abbot's custom was simply to swallow the liquid his libertine
dexterity made flow; and this he did not now fail to do, shaking himself
the while, agitating himself as he bore down upon my sister: I saw him
spatter indubitable evidence of his virility upon the floor. My turn came
the next day, and I believe I can assure you, Messieurs, that it was one of
the sweetest operations to which in all my life I have ever been exposed:
that scoundrel of an abbot had my first fruits, and it was into his mouth I
shed my first fuck. More eager than my sister to give him pleasure in
return for what he had caused me, I unthinkingly seized his drooping prick,
and my little hand replied to what his mouth had made me feel with such
delight.
    The Duc could not prevent himself from interrupting at this point. To a
remarkable degree excited by the pollutions he had undergone that same
morning, he had an idea that this species of lubric sport executed with the
fascinating Augustine, whose sparkling, roguish eyes announced the most
precocious temperament, would deliver him of a charge of fuck that was
stinging his balls in a dreadful way. She was a member of his quatrain, he
found her likeable, she was destined to be deflowered by him, he summoned
her. On this particular evening she had a kerchief tied round her head, was
clad in peasant guise, and seemed charming beneath that costume. The duenna
hoisted her skirts and established her in the posture Duclos had
represented. The Duc first of all lay hands on her buttocks, knelt, brought
a finger to the anus and lightly titillated its rim, seized up the clitoris
this amiable child already had in considerable growth, and sucked it. The
people of Languedoc are high-spirited, they say, and Augustine proved them
right; fire leapt into her pretty eyes, she sighed and panted and moaned,
her thighs rose mechanically, and the Duc was pleased to sip a gush of
young fuck which in all likelihood had never flowed before.
    But joy is seldom succeeded by joy. There are libertines so hardened in
vice that the simpler, the more delicate and banal be the thing they do,
the less effect it has upon their execrable minds. Of their number our
beloved Duc was one, he swallowed that delicious child's sperm without his
own contriving to flow; all present beheld the moment arrive, for no one is
more illogical than a libertine, the moment appeared at hand, I say, when
he would blame his unresponse upon the poor little wretch who, all a dither
at having yielded to Nature, was hiding her face in her hands and
struggling to get free and return to her place.
    "Get me another one," thundered the Duc, casting furious glances at
Augustine, "I'll suck every last one of them if that's required to lose my
fuck."
    Zelmire, the second girl in his quatrain, was brought to the fore, she
too was the Duc's by escheat. Though equal in years to Augustine, the grief
for her plight robbed her of the power to taste a pleasure which, who
knows, had it not been for that, Nature might have allowed her to relish.
Up rose her skirts, up above two little thighs whiter than alabaster, a
chubby little mons veneris hove into view, it was upholstered by a fluffy
down just beginning to appear. She is adjusted, obliged to yield, she obeys
automatically, but sweat, strain, suck though he does, nothing happens to
the Duc. Fifteen minutes of this and he rises in a fury, and, flinging
himself into his closet with Hercule and Narcisse:
    "Ah, by fuck!" he roars. "It's very clear to me that's not the game I'm
hunting" - 'tis to the two little girls he alludes - "and that I'll only
have a fair shot at this."
    It is not known to what excesses he surrendered himself, but ere an
instant had passed screams and shouts declared he had carried the day, and
proved that boys are always the far more certain implements to a discharge
than the most adorable girls. In the meantime, the Bishop had likewise
enchambered himself with Giton, Zelamir, and Invictus, and the outbursts
which accompanied his discharge having struck the assembly's ears, the two
brothers, who had probably resorted to similar expedients, returned, more
calmly to listen to the rest of the story our heroine took up again in
these terms:
    Nigh unto two years passed by during which time no one of particular
interest arrived at Madame Guerin's; the gentleman who called either had
tastes too ordinary to warrant description, or had tastes analogous to
those I have already described; and then one day I was told to prepare
myself, and above all to wash out my mouth. A heavy, thickset man of about
fifty stood beside the mistress of the house.
    "Well, there she is," said Madame. "She's only twelve, Monsieur, just
as clean and tidy as if she'd come this morning out of her mother's belly,
and you can take my word for that."
    The customer inspects me, has me open my mouth, he examines my teeth,
sniffs my breath, and evidently satisfied that all is in order, he goes
with me into the sanctuary intended for pleasure. We sit down face to face
and very near to one another. No one could be more solemn than my gallant
nor more phlegmatic. He stares coldly at me, then appraises me with
narrowed eyes, I have no idea where all this is leading when, finally
breaking his silence, he bids me collect a mouthful of saliva. I obey, and
as soon as he fancies my mouth must be full, he throws himself upon my
neck, passionately puts his arm around my head, thereby immobilizing it,
and gluing his lips to my mouth, he pumps, sucks, eagerly swallows all the
bewitching fluid I have collected, and it seems enough to put him in an
overwhelming ecstasy. He sucks my tongue into his mouth with identical
fervor, and when he senses it is dry, perceives my mouth is empty, he
commands me to repeat the operation. He reiterates his, then I do, then he
does, and so on eight or ten times over.
    He sucked up my saliva with such furious avidity it discomfited my
chest and lungs. I thought that at least a few sparks of pleasure were
going to climax his transports; I was mistaken. His apathy, whence he
emerged only brief instants during his most intense suckings, compassed him
again immediately he had drained me, and when at last I told him I could do
no more, he fell to eyeing me distantly, to staring at me as he had at the
beginning, then got up without a word, paid Guerin, and left.
    "Ah, God's prick and balls!" cried Curval, "I'm happier than he, for
I'm coming."
    Everyone raised his head, everyone saw the dear President doing to
Julie, his wife, whom that day he had for couch companion, the same thing
Duclos had just been relating. That this passion appealed admirably to his
tastes was generally well known; Julie by and large procured him abundant
pleasure in this manner, Duclos had no doubt done less well by her gallant.
But that was in all likelihood his own fault; failing to appreciate what
certain mouths, in certain conditions, may offer, he got nothing from
Duclos', whereas the President obtained satisfaction from Julie's.
    A month later, said Duclos, who had been invited to continue, I had
dealings with a sucker who assailed what one might term the same fort but
from an entirely different angle. This latter was an elderly abbot who,
after having previously kissed and caressed my bum for above half an hour,
introduced his tongue into its hole, made it penetrate deep, dart to left
and right, turn this way, turn that way, all with such surpassing art I
thought I felt it drive nigh to the depths of my entrails. But this abbot
of mine, much less phlegmatic, as he used one hand to spread my buttocks,
used the other to frig himself very voluptuously, and as he discharged he
drew my anus to his face with such violence and tickled it so lubriciously
that my ecstasy coincided with his. When he was finished, he spent another
moment scrutinizing my buttocks, staring at that hole he'd just reamed
wider, and couldn't prevent himself from gluing his mouth to it one last
time; then he hastened off, assuring me he would be back frequently, would
ask for me, and that he was most content with my ass. He kept his promise,
and for six months he came to visit me three or four times a week,
regularly performing the same operation to which I became so thoroughly
accustomed that each time he executed his little project, I all but expired
with delight - an aspect of the rite about which he appeared to care very
little, for, as best I could judge, he had no inclination to find out
whether or no my work pleased me; that did not seem to matter to him. And
indeed, who can tell? Men are extraordinary indeed; had he known of it, my
pleasure might even have displeased him.
    And now Durcet, whom the story had inflamed, like the old priest was
moved to suck some asshole or other, but would not have a girl's. He called
for Hyacinthe, who of them all pleased him the most. He placed the little
chap, kissed his ass, frigged his prick and sucked it. By the nervous
shuddering of his body, by the spasm which ordinarily heralded his
discharge, it was thought the evil little anchovy that Aline was thumping
and pulling as best she could, was finally going to disgorge its seed, but
no, the financier was penurious when it came to parting with his fuck, he
simply could not, or would not, stiffen. It occurs to them all that his
object ought to be changed, Celadon is substituted for Hyacinthe, but all's
at a standstill, not the least improvement is apparent. The opportune
tolling of a bell announcing supper saves the banker's honor.
    "Why," says he, laughing with his confreres, "it's not my fault, you
saw I was about to win a victory; this damned supper will have to delay it.
Well, by God, let's go and have a fling at the table, I'll return all the
more ardent to Cupid's tourney after having been crowned by Bacchus."
    The evening meal was equally succulent and gay, quite as lubricious as
ever, and was followed by orgies in the course of which an abundance of
little infamies were perpetrated. Many were the mouths sucked and the
asses, but one of the most engaging drolleries of all was the game in which
they hid the face and chest of each little girl and gambled upon
recognizing her on the basis of a study of her ass. The Duc was
occasionally misled, but not so the others, for they were too well
accustomed to the use of the bum. The friends retired for the night, and
the morrow brought further and new pleasures, and a few reflections.




THE FOURTH DAY
    Being full eager to be able to distinguish immediately which of the
youngsters in either sex was, in a depucelatory sense, to belong to each of
their number, the friends decided to have them wear, regardless of their
costume and, in that other extreme, even when undressed, a hair ribbon,
which would indicate of whom the individual child was the property. Colors
were thereupon chosen: the Duc adopted pink and green: whosoever should
wear a pink ribbon to the fore, would be his by the cunt; similarly,
whosoever wore a green ribbon to the rear, would be his by the ass. And so
Fanny, Zelmire, Sophie, and Augustine straightway affixed a pink ribbon on
one side of their coiffures; Rosette, Hebe, Michette, Giton, and Zephyr
attached a green favor to their hair where it fell toward the neck, this
clue attesting the rights of the Duc enjoyed to their asses.
    Curval chose black for the front, yellow for the rear; thus Michette,
Hebe, Colombe, and Rosette were in future constantly to wear a black ribbon
forward; Sophie, Zelmire, Augustine, Zelamir, and Adonis pinned a yellow
one above their nape.
    Durcet identified his Hyacinthe with a lilac ribbon hanging to the
rear, and the Bishop, who owned title to but five assholes to be deflowered
sodomistically, ordered Cupidon, Narcisse, Celadon, Colombe, and Fanny to
wear a violet one in the rear.
    Never, regardless of the subject's posture, chore, or dress, were these
ribbons to be neglected or improperly worn, and so it was that by this
simple arrangement each friend was always able to tell at a glance what
property was his, and in what way.
    Curval, who had passed the night with Constance, had bitter complaints
to lodge against her in the morning. It was not entirely clear what lay at
the root of the trouble, nor what precisely the trouble was; so little is
needed to displease a libertine. But there was more than enough to the
thing to cause him to have her listed for Saturday punishment, and he was
formulating charges when that lovely creature declared that she was
pregnant; Curval, apart from her husband the only one whom it was possible
to suspect as the agent in this affair, had effected no carnal juncture
with her save at the beginning of this party, that is to say, four days
previously. Our libertines were gladdened by these tidings, seeing in the
event much possibility of clandestine delight, and the Duc exulted over
this stroke of fortune. In any event, the declaration earned her exemption
from the punishment she would otherwise have had to undergo in return for
having displeased Curval. She was to be spared: they preferred to leave the
fruits on the branch to ripen, a gravid woman diverted them, and what they
promised themselves for later on even more lewdly entertained their
perfidious imaginations. Constance was dispensed from service at table,
from chastisements, and from a few other little odds and ends the
accomplishment of which her state no longer rendered voluptuous to observe,
but she was still obliged to appear upon the couches and until further
orders to share bed of whoever wished to choose her for the night.
    It was Durcet who, that morning, contributed his presence to the
pollution exercises, and as his prick was extraordinarily small, he gave
the pupils rather more a problem than had been posed by the Duc's massive
construction. However, they fell earnestly to work. But the little banker,
who had been plying a woman's trade all night long, could never bear a
man's. He was adamant, intractable, and the skill of these eight charming
students combined with that of their deft instructress was unable, when all
was said and done, even to get him to raise his nose. He left the classroom
in triumph, and as impotence always provokes that kind of mood called a
teasing one in the idiom of libertinage, his inspections were astonishingly
severe. Rosette amongst the girls, Zelamir amongst the boys were the
victims of his thoroughness: one was not as she had been told to be - this
enigma will be explained - the other, unfortunately, had rid himself of
what he had been ordered to keep.
    Those present at the public latrines were only seven in number: Duclos,
Marie, Aline, and Fanny, two second-class fuckers, and Giton, Curval, who
did considerable stiffening that day, grew very excited over Duclos.
Dinner, at which his conduct and remarks were very libertine indeed, calmed
him not one whit, and the coffee served by Colombe, Sophie, Zephyr, and his
dear friend Adonis, set his brain all afire. He laid hands on this selfsame
Adonis, tumbled him onto a sofa, and while spewing forth oaths slid his
enormous member between the lad's thighs (approaching him from behind), and
as that outsized tool protruded a fair six inches beyond, he commanded
Adonis vigorously to frig what emerged, and himself set to frigging the boy
above the morsel of flesh upon which Adonis was spitted. Meanwhile, he
presented the assembly with an ass no less filthy than broad, whose impure
orifice began to exert a potent attraction upon the Duc. Seeing this ass
within reach, he trained his vivacious prick on the hole while continuing
to suck Zephyr's mouth, an operation he had begun before this new idea had
occurred to him.
    Curval, who had not been expecting such an attack, emitted blasphemous
paeans of joy. He danced with delight, spread himself wider, braced
himself; at the same instant, the fresh young fuck of the charming boy he
was frigging started to drip out upon the enormous head of his own aroused
instrument. That warm fuck he feels wetting him, the reiterated blows of
the Duc who is also beginning to discharge, it all quickens his warrior's
soul, the weapon is primed, off goes the gun, floods of foamy sperm splash
against Durcet's ass, for the banker has just posted himself there within
easy range lest, says he, something be wasted, and Durcet's plump white
buttocks are submerged beneath a spellbinding liquor he would have by far
preferred as a rinse for his bowels.
    Nor was the Bishop idle; he was one after the other sucking clean the
divine assholes of Colombe and Sophie. But doubtless fatigued by some
nocturnal exercise, he showed not one spark of life, and like all other
libertines rendered unjust by caprice and disgust, he lashed out furiously
against these two delicious children, blaming them for the only too well
merited shortcomings of his debilitated frame. Messieurs nap for a few
minutes; then 'tis story-telling time, and in they troop to listen to the
amiable Duclos, who resumes her tale in the following manner:
    There had been a few changes in Madame Guerin's house, said our
heroine. Two very pretty girls had just found dupes who were only too
willing to keep them and whom they deceived just the way we all do. To fill
the gaps in the ranks, our dear mother had scouted around and set her
sights upon a rue Saint-Denis tavern-keeper's daughter, thirteen years old
and one of the most fetching creatures in all the wide world. But the
little lady, quite as well-behaved as she was pious, was successfully
resisting all enticements when Guerin, having one day employed the
cleverest stratagem to lure her to her house, immediately put her in the
hands of the unusual person whose mania I propose to describe next. He was
an ecclesiastic of fifty-five or fifty-six, but so youthful and vigorous
you'd have thought him under forty. No man in Europe had such a singular
talent for drawing young girls into vice, and as it was his one art,
developed to a sublime degree, he had turned it into his one and only
pleasure. The whole of his fleshy delight consisted in extirpating
childhood prejudices and unnatural terrors, in cultivating scorn for
virtue, in decking vice in the most dazzling colors. He neglected nothing:
seductive images, flattering promises, delicious examples, he would press
everything into service, everything would be brilliantly manipulated, his
artistry being faultlessly attuned to the child's age and cast of mind, and
never did he miss the mark. Granted a mere two hours of conversation, he
was sure to make a whore of the best-behaved and most reasonable little
girl; for thirty years he had been conducting his missionary labors in
Paris, and, he had once assured Madame Guerin, who counted herself one of
his best friends, he had to his credit more than ten thousand girls whom he
had personally seduced and plunged into libertinage. He rendered similar
services to at least fifteen procuresses, and whenever he was not coping
with a particular problem at someone else's behest, he was busy doing
research for its own sake and for his professional pleasure, energetically
corrupting whatever he came across and then packing it off to his
outfitters. Now, the most extraordinary aspect of the entire thing, and the
one which, Messieurs, prompts me to cite the example of this uncommon
idividual, was that he never enjoyed the fruit of his labors. He would
encloset himself alone with the child, but, despite his vast understanding,
his mind's agility, his eloquent persuasiveness, he used always to emerge
from conference greatly inflamed. One could be perfectly certain the
operation irritated his senses, but it was impossible to discover where or
when or how he satisfied them. Closest scrutiny had never revealed anything
but a prodigious blaze in his stare when once he had concluded his
speeches, a few twitching movements of his hand upon the front of his
breeches, within which one could tell there was a definite erection,
produced by the diabolic work he was doing; but that was all.
    He came to the house, was accorded a private interview with the young
barmaid, I watched the proceedings: the consultation was prolonged, the
seducer's language was amazingly pathetic, the child wept, got hot, seemed
to enter into a kind of enthusiastic fit; it was at this moment the
orator's eyes flamed brightest, and it was now we remarked the gestures in
the neighborhood of his fly. Not long afterward, he rose, the child
stretched forth her arms as if seeking to embrace him, he kissed her in a
grave and fatherly manner, without any trace of lechery. He left, and three
hours later the little girl arrived with her baggage at Madame Guerin's.
    "And the man?" asked the Duc.
    "He disappeared once his sermon was over," Duclos replied.
    "Without coming back to see the results of his work?"
    "No, my Lord, there was no doubt in his mind. He had never once
failed."
    "Now there is a most extraordinary personage," Curval admitted. "What
does your Grace make of it?"
    "I suspect," the Duc answered, "that the seduction provided all the
heat necessary and that he discharged in his breeches."
    "No," quoth the Bishop, "I think you underestimate the man: all this
was simply by way of preparation for his debauches, and upon leaving I
wager he went off to consummate greater ones."
    "Greater ones?" cried Durcet. "And what more delicious, more voluptuous
delight could one hope to procure oneself, than that of enjoying the objest
one creates?"     "I have it!" spoke up the Duc, "I dare say I've found him
out: all this, just as you say, was merely preparatory in character,
corrupting girls would heat his imagination, the off he'd go to dip his
tool in boys. . . . I'll wager he was a bugger, yes, 'tis plain."
    Duclos was asked whether she had any evidence to support that
conjecture, and did he or did he not also seduce little boys? Our narrator
replied that she had no proof of the thing, and despite the Duc's
exceedingly likely allegation, everyone remained more or less in suspense
as to the character of that strange preacher; after it had been unanimously
agreed that his mania was truly delicious, but that one had either to
consummate the work or do worse afterward, Duclos went on with her story:
    The day after the arrival of our young novice, who was named Henriette,
there came to the establishment an eccentric old lecher who put us both,
Henriette and I, to work at the same time. This latest libertine had no
other pleasure than that of observing through a hole all the voluptuous
activities transpiring in an adjoining room, he adored spying on them, thus
found in others' pleasures the divine aliment of his own lubricity. He was
installed in the room I mentioned to you, the same one to which I and my
companions often repaired for the diversion of watching libertines in
action. I was assigned the task of amusing him while he looked through the
hole, and young Henriette entered the arena together with the asshole-
sucker I described you yesterday. The management considered that rascal's
very voluptuous antics just the kind of spectacle my onlooker would relish,
and in order better to arouse the actor, and in order that he render the
scene yet more lascivious and more agreeable to see, he was told he was
being given an apprentice and that it was with him she was to make her
debut. The little barmaid's air of modesty and childishness speedily
convinced him of it; and so he was as hot and as lewd in his nasty stunts
as 'twere possible to be; nothing could have been further from his mind
than that he was being observed. As for my old buck, his eye glued to the
hole, one hand on my bum, the other on his prick, which he gently agitated,
he seemed to be keeping the progress of his ecstasy abreast the one he was
watching. "Ah, what a sight!" he said now and again; "what a fine ass that
little girl has, and how well that bugger in there is tonguing it." At
last, Henriette's lover having discharged, mine folded me in his arms and,
after a moment's kissing, he turned me over, fondled, kissed, lewdly licked
my behind, and squirted evidence of his virility over my cheeks.
    "While frigging himself?" the Duc asked.
    "Yes, my Lord," answered Duclos, "and frigging a prick whose incredible
littleness, I assure you, isn't worth the bother describing."
    The gentleman with whom I had to do next, Duclos continued, would not
perhaps deserve to be included in my report were it not for one element, a
rather unusual one, I should say, which distinguished his otherwise quite
routine pleasures, and this little circumstance will illustrate to what
point libertinage is able to degrade all a man's feelings of modesty,
virtue and decorum. This person did not want to see; he wished to be seen.
Knowing that men exist whose whim it is to spy upon the pleasure-takings of
others, he bade Guerin find him one such fellow, conceal him, and said he
would enact a drama for him. Guerin at once got in touch with the man I had
entertained a few days previously behind the partition, and without telling
him that the performer he was about to see knew that he was going to be
seen - this would have interfered with his passion's fulfillment - she gave
him to believe he was to observe a very arcane mystery indeed.
    The inspector and my sister were put in the room with the hole, the
actor and I went into the other one. He was a young man about twenty-eight
years old, handsome and strong. Informed of the hole's location, he not too
pointedly moved to where he could be perfectly viewed and had me take my
place beside him. I frigged him. When his prick held a good slope, he got
to his feet, exhibited his tool to the inspector, turned around, displayed
his ass, raised my skirts and showed my mine, knelt before me, teased my
anus with the tip of his nose, spread heartily, displayed everything with
as much thoroughness as delight, and discharged by frigging himself, the
while keeping my hinder skirts high and my ass squarely opposite the spy
hole, in such wise that he who stood posted on the other side of the wall
simultaneously beheld, at this decisive moment, both my bum and my lover's
wrathful device. If the latter was in seventh heaven, God knows what was
going on in the next room; my sister later told me she had had a madman on
her back who had sworn he'd never had as fine a time as this, and after
that her buttocks had been washed by a tide no less fierce than the one
that had burst over mine.
    "If that young man of yours truly had a good prick and pretty ass,"
Durcet opinioned, "there was ample in the situation to provoke a generous
discharge."
    "It must then have been delicious," returned Duclos, "for his engine
was very long, quite thick, and his ass as soft, as sweetly plump, as
attractively formed as the god of love's."
    "Did you spread his cheeks?" the Bishop inquired. "Did you show his
vent to the inspector?"
    "Yes, your Lordship," said Duclos, "he displayed mine, I displayed his,
he presented it with incomparable suggestiveness."
    "I've been witness to a dozen such scenes," Durcet announced, "which
have cost me a fortune in fuck; there is nothing more delicious to see or
do. I refer to both: for it is just as pleasant to spy upon someone as to
want to be observed."
    Another individual, with approximately the same tastes, Duclos went on,
took me to the Tuileries some few months later. He wanted me to accost men
and frig them six inches from his face while he hid under a pile of folding
chairs; and after I had frigged seven or eight passers-by, he settled
himself upon a bench by one of the most frequented of the paths, lifted my
skirts from behind, and displayed my ass to all and sundry, put his prick
in the air and ordered me to frig it well within view of half of Paris, the
which, although it was night, created such a scandal that by the time he
most cynically unleashed his fuck, more than ten people had gathered around
us, and we were obliged to dash away to avoid being publicly covered with
shame.
    When I related this adventure to Guerin, she laughed approvingly and
said she had once known a man in Lyon (where panders enter into the trade
at an early age), a man, I say, whose mania was certainly just as unusual.
He would disguise himself as a public mercury, himself fetch in visitors to
dally with the two girls he paid and maintained for no other purpose, then
he would conceal himself in a corner to watch his client go to work; the
girl, whose hire depended upon her skill in these moments, would guide the
libertine she had in her arms and unfailingly give her employer a view of
his prick and ass, the sight of which constituted the one pleasure that
agreed with our false pimp's palate, the one that was able to loosen his
fuck.
    Duclos having brought her recital to an early conclusion that evening,
the time that remained until supper was devoted to a few choice
lubricities, and as the example of the cynic had fired their four daring
brains, the friends did not isolate themselves in their closets, but
disported within clear view each of the other. The Duc had Duclos strip off
her clothes, had her bend and lean upon the back of a chair and commanded
Desgranges to frig him upon her comrade's buttocks, in such wise that the
head of his prick might graze Duclos' asshole with each stroke. To that one
was added a number of other episodes which the proper presentation of our
material forbids us from disclosing at this stage; but the fact remains
that the chronicler's inferior vent was completely sprayed and that the
Duc, handsomely served and entirely surrounded, discharged to the tune of
bellowings and shouts which indicated to what a point his mind has been
stimulated. Curval had himself fucked, the Bishop and Durcet for their part
did passing strange things with both sexes; then supper was served.
    After it, dances were held: the sixteen youngsters, the four fuckers,
and the four wives were able to perform three quadrilles, but all the
participants at the ball were naked, and our roues, indolently reclining
upon sofas, were deliciously amused by all the different beauties one after
another offered them by the divers attitudes the dancers were obliged to
strike. Messieurs had the storytellers at their side, and these ladies
manualized them rapidly or slowly, depending upon the pleasure they were
experiencing; but, somewhat fatigued by the day's frolickings, no one
discharged, and each went to bed to acquire the strength needed for all the
following day's new infamies.




THE FIFTH DAY
    That morning it was Curval's duty to lend his presence at the academy
of masturbation, and as the little girls were beginning to make tangible
progress, he was hard put to resist the multiplying thumps and jerks and
the variegated but universally lubricious postures of these eight charming
little maids. Wishing to keep his weapon charged, he withdrew without
firing it, lunch was announced, and at table the friends decreed that
Messieurs' four young lovers, to wit: Zephyr, the Duc's favorite; Adonis,
beloved of Curval; Hyacinthe, friend to Durcet; and Celadon, unto whom the
Bishop was plighted, were henceforth to be admitted to all meals, would
dine beside their lovers in whose bedchambers they were, as well, regularly
to sleep, a favor they would share with the wives and the fuckers; the
which eliminated a ceremony customarily performed, as the reader is aware,
every morning, this ceremony consisting in the fetching of the four lads by
the four off-duty fuckers. They were now to come of their own accord, and
when from now on Messieurs were to pass into the little boys' chambers,
they were to be received, in accordance with prescribed regulation, by the
remaining four only.
    The Duc, who for the past two or three days had been head over heels in
love with Duclos, whose ass he found superb and language pleasing, demanded
that she also sleep in his bedroom, and this precedent having been
established, Curval similarly introduced Fanchon, of whom he was
passionately fond, into his. The two others decided to wait yet a little
longer before deciding who was to fill this fourth post of privilege in
their chambers.
    It was that same morning ruled that the four young lovers who had just
been chosen would have by way of ordinary dress, whenever they were not
obliged to wear characterizing costumes, as when formed in quatrains, would
have, I say, the clothing and style I am going to describe: it was a little
jerkin, tight-fitting, of light cloth, tailored like a Prussian uniform
with a slit tail, but much shorter, scarcely reaching to halfway down the
thigh; this jacket, like all uniforms buttoned across the chest and at the
vent, was of pink satin lined with white taffeta, the cuffs and trim were
white satin, underneath was to be worn a kind of short vest or waistcoat,
also of white satin, and the breeches were to match; but these breeches
were provided with a heart-shaped rear flap under which one could slip
one's hand and grasp the ass without the slightest difficulty; the flap was
held up by a ribbon tied in a big bow, and when one wished to have the
child completely exposed in this part, one had merely to undo the bow,
which was of the color selected by the friend to whom the pucelage
belonged. Their hair, carelessly arranged so that a few curls fell to
either side, floated absolutely free behind, and was simply knotted by a
ribbon of the appropriate color. A highly-scented powder, in color between
gray and pink, tinted their hairdress, their eyebrows were carefully
plucked and emphasized by black pencil, a light touch of rouge applied to
the cheeks, all this heightened their natural beauty; their heads were
never covered, black silk stockings brocaded in rose covered their legs,
they were agreeably shod in gray slippers attached by a pink bow. A cream-
colored gauze cravat, very voluptuously tied, blended prettily with a
little lace ruffle; when the four of them were clad in this style, you may
rest assured that nothing in all the world was as charming to behold as
these little fellows.
    Immediately they were granted their new privileges, a few others were
abolished: all permissions, of the kind they had upon occasion been
accorded in the morning, were absolutely refused now, but they were given
all the rights over the wives the fuckers enjoyed: they could maltreat the
women as they saw fit and not only at mealtime, no, but at any time of the
day, all the time, if they chose, and they could be confident that in any
dispute arising 'twixt the wives and themselves, their side would be heard
with sympathy.
    These matters attended to, the usual searches were conducted; the
lovely Fanny, whom Curval had ordered to be in such and such a state, was
found in the contrary one (the sequel will provide elucidation of this
obscure point) : her name was set down in the punishment ledger. Amongst
the young gentlemen, Giton had done what he had been forbidden to do; down
went his name. After the chapel functions had been completed by the very
few subjects who were on hand to execute them, the friends went to dinner.
    This was the first meal at which the four lovers joined the friends at
table. They took their places, each sitting to the right of the friend who
doted upon him, the friend's favorite fucker being seated to the friend's
left. These four additional guests lent a further charm to the meal; they
were all four very gentle, very sweet, and were beginning to accommodate
themselves very well to the general tone of the household. The Bishop, in
the liveliest spirits that day, kissed Celadon virtually without
interruption throughout the course of the meal, and as that child was a
member of the quartet chosen to hand around the coffee, he left table a
little before dessert. When Monseigneur, who had worked himself into a
splendid sweat over the boy, saw him entirely naked in the salon, he lost
all self-control.
    "By Jesus!" he cried, his face purple, "since I cannot tup his ass, I
can at least do what Curval did to his bardash yesterday."
    And so saying he seized the good-natured little rascal, laid him on his
belly, and slipped his prick between his thighs. The libertine was lost in
the clouds, his weapon's hair rubbed the cute little hole he would fain
have perforated: one of his hands fondled this delicious little cupid's
buttocks, with the other he frigged Celadon's prick. What was more, he
glued his mouth to the lovely child's, pumped the air from his lungs,
swallowed his saliva. In order to excite his brother, the Duc created a
libertine spectacle by placing himself in front of the Bishop and
proceeding to lick out the asshole of Cupidon, the other of the two boys
serving coffee that day. Curval moved to within close range and had himself
frigged by Michette, and Durcet offered the prelate the sight of Rosette's
widespread buttocks. Everyone toiled to procure him the ecstasy to which he
plainly asprired; it occurred, his nerves trembled, his teeth chattered,
his eyes shone, he would have been a terrifying object for anyone save
those three who knew full well the terrible effects joy had upon that man
of God. The fuck finally broke forth and flowed over Cupidon's buttocks,
for that quick-witted little aide had at the last moment wriggled his way
beneath his comrade so as to receive the treasure which might otherwise
have gone entirely to waste.
    The storytelling hour came, they readied themselves. By an unusual
stroke of circumstance, all the fathers found their daughters beside them
on their couches. But Messieurs were not alarmed. Duclos began to speak.
    In that you have not required me, Messieurs, to give you an exact day
by day account of everything that happened to me at Madame Guerin's
establishment, but simply to relate the more out of the ordinary events
which highlighted some of those days, I shall omit mention of several not
very interesting episodes dating from my childhood, for they would be
naught but tedious repetitions of what you have heard already. And so I
shall tell you that I had just reached the age of sixteen, not without
having acquired a wealth of experience in my metier, when it fell to my lot
to have a libertine whose daily caprice merits to be cited. He was a sober,
very grave judge of nearly fifty years, a man who, if one is to believe
Madame Guerin, who told me she had known him for many years, regularly
exercised every morning the whimsicality wherewith I shall entertain you.
His ordinary pimp had reached the age of retirement and recommended that
the judge put himself in our dear mother's hands; this was his first call
at the house, and he began with me.
    He stationed himself, alone, in the room with the spy hole, I entered
the other with a hod carrier, a Savoyard, I believe; well, he was a common
fellow, but a healthy strapping one: those qualifications were enough for
the judge, who cared nothing for age or looks. I was, within clear view and
as near as possible to the hole, to frig my honest churl, who knew what was
expected of him and reckoned this a very pretty way indeed to earn his
supper. After having unreservedly complied with all the instructions the
good judge had given me, after having done all my sweet country buck could
desire of me, I had him discharge into a porcelain dish, and having wrung
the last drop from his prick, I dashed into the adjoining room. My man is
awaiting me in an ecstasy, he pounces upon the dish, swallows the hot fuck,
his own erupts; with one hand I encourage his ejaculation, with the other I
collect in my hand every precious dram that falls and, between jets,
quickly raising my hand to the old prankster's mouth, with great dexterity
and nimbleness I see to it that he swallows his own fuck quite as fast as
he squirts it out.
    That was all there was to it; no fingerings, no kisses, he didn't even
lift my skirts, and rising from his chair with just as much aplomb as a
moment before he had been aroused, he took his cane and left, saying that I
frigged very skillfully, so he considered, and that I had very well grasped
his character. A new workman was brought in the next day, for they had to
be changed daily, as had the women. My sister operated for him, he left
content, returned again on the morrow, and during my entire stay at Madame
Guerin's I never saw a single day go by without him arriving punctually at
nine, and never did he raise a single skirt, although he was ministered by
some charming girls.
    "Had he any inclination to see the commoner's ass?" Curval wanted to
know.
    "He had indeed, Monsieur le President," Duclos replied. "While amusing
the man whose fuck he ate, one had to take great care to turn him this way
and that, and the man had also to turn the girl around in every direction."
    "Well, now," said Curval, "that makes sense. But for that I'd not have
understood a thing."
    Shortly afterward, continued Duclos, the harem's strength was increased
by the arrival of a girl of about thirty, attractive enough, but with hair
as red as Judas'. At first we though she was a new recruit, but no, she
quickly disabused us by explaining that she had come for only one party.
The man for whom this latest heroine was intended soon arrived also: he was
an important financier of prepossessing appearance, and his singularity of
taste, since the girl set aside for him would doubtless not have been
wanted by anyone else, this singularity, I say, gave me the greatest desire
to observe them come to grips. No sooner had they entered the room than the
girl removed every stitch of her clothing and displayed a very fair and
very plump body.
    "Very well, be off, jump about, skip," said the financier, "you know
perfectly well I like them in a sweat."
    And thereupon the redhead falls to cutting capers, running around the
room, leaping like a young goat, and our man keeps his eye fixed on her
while he frigs himself; these activities continued a great while and there
was no telling to what they were leading. When the girl was swimming in
perspiration, she approached the libertine, raised an arm, and had him
smell her armpit where the sweat was dripping from every hair.
    "Ah, that's it, that's it!" cried the tycoon, staring with furious
approval at that sticky arm she held a centimeter from his nose, "what an
odor! ravishing!"
    Then slipping to his knees before her, he sniffed the interior of her
vagina, inhaling deeply, and then breathed in the scent emergent from her
asshole, but he returned constantly to her armpits, whether because those
parts flattered him the most, or because he found the bouquet superior, it
was always there his mouth and nose betook themselves with the greatest
fervor. At last a rather lengthy but not very thick device, a device he had
been buffeting in vain for about an hour, decided to wake and have a look
about. The girl takes her place, the financier comes up from behind and
lodges his anchovy under her armpit, she squeezes her arm, exerting what I
judged must have been a powerful grip; meanwhile, her posture enables the
gentleman to enjoy the sight and odor of her other armpit, he lays hands on
it, buries his snout under it and discharges while licking, while devouring
this part which affords him such delight.
    "And the creature had to have red hair?" asked the Bishop. "That was a
sine qua non?"
    "Absolutely," Duclos replied. "Those women, as you are not unaware,
Monseigneur, exude an infinitely more violent underarm aroma, and his sense
of smell once stung, no question of it, by ripe odors, his pleasure organs
would be aroused at once."
    "Of course," the Bishop agreed. "But, by God, it seems to me I'd have
preferred smelling that woman's asshole to sniffing under her arms."
    "Ah, ha!" spoke up Curval, "there is much to be said in favor of the
one and the other, and let me assure you that if you'll but give the arms a
try, you'll find them perfectly delicious."
    "Which is to say, I take it," said the Bishop, "that Monsieur le
President finds that stew to his taste?"
    "Why yes, I've sampled it," Curval replied, "and apart from a few
occasions when I added other episodes to that one, I protest to you that
all by itself it has always been able to get some fuck out of me."
    "Oh yes, those episodes, I fancy what they were," the Bishop broke in,
"you smelled the ass . . ."
    "One moment there," interrupted the Duc. "Don't oblige him to make his
confession, Monseigneur, he'd tell us things we are not yet to hear; go on,
Duclos, don't let these chatterers encroach upon your domain."
    I recall the period, our narrator resumed, when for more than six weeks
Guerin absolutely forbade my sister to wash, requiring her, on the
contrary, to keep herself in the rankest and most impure state she could
contrive to be in; we had no inkling of the Madame's designs until one day
there arrived a grog-blossomed old rake who, in a half-drunken and most
uncouth tone, asked Guerin whether the whore was ready. "Oh, my goodness,
you may be sure she is," Guerin replied. They are brought together, put in
the room, I fly to the hole; scarcely am I there than I see my naked sister
astride a capacious bidet filled with champagne and there is our man, armed
with a great sponge, busily washing her and carefully recovering every bit
of dirt that rolls from her body.
    It had been so long since she had cleaned any part of herself, for she
had been strictly ordered not to wipe her behind, that the wine immediately
took on a brown and dirty hue, and probably an odor which could not have
been very agreeable. But the more the wine became corrupted by the filth
streaming into it, the more delighted our libertine grew. He sipped a
little, found it exquisite, provided himself with a glass and, filling it
to the brim six or seven times, he downed the putrid and disgusting wine in
which he'd just finished washing a body laden for so long with impurities.
When he had drunk his fill, he seized my sister, laid her down flat upon
the bed, and upon her buttocks and well-opened hole, spewed floods of
immodest semen brought to a boil by the unclean details of his unpleasant
mania.
    But another visitor, a far nastier one, was time and again to attract
my regard. We had in the house one of those women who are called street
scouts or trotters, to employ the bordello term, and whose function is to
run abroad night and day and dig up new recruits. Over forty years old,
this creature had, as well as very faded charms which had never been very
winning, the dreadful defect that consists in stinking feet. And such, no
other, was the fair sort whereof the Marquis de L*** was enamored. He
arrives, Dame Louise - for such was her name - is introduced to him, he
finds her superb, and once he has conducted her into the pleasure
sanctuary, "Pray remove your shoes," says he. Louise, who had been
explicitly enjoined to wear the same stockings and slippers for a month,
offers the Marquis a foot that would have made a man of less fine
discrimination puke straight off; but, as I say, that foot's very filth and
nauseous quality was precisely what our nobleman cherished most. He catches
it up, kisses it with fervor, with his mouth he spreads each toe, one after
the other, with his tongue he gathers from each space, and gathers with
incomparable enthusiasm, the blackish and fetid scum Nature deposits there
and which, with a little encouragement, easily increases by itself. Not
only does he draw this unmentionable stuff into his mouth, but he swallows
it, savors it, and the fuck he loses while frigging himself stands as
unequivocal proof of the excessive pleasure he takes in this fare.
    " 'Tis beyond me," was the Bishop's simple comment.
    "Then I suppose I'd best explain it to you," Curval said.
    "What? You've a taste for that?"
    "Observe," the President replied.
    The others rose, came from their niches, surrounded him, and beheld
that peerless libertine, in whom were met all the tastes of the most
crapulous lewdness, embrace the indescribable foot tendered him by Fanchon,
that aged and foul servant we described earlier. Curval was in half a swoon
as he sucked.
    "There's nothing to be wondered at there," said Durcet, "one need but
be mildly jaded, and all these infamies assume a richer meaning: satiety
inspires them in the libertinage which executes them unhesitatingly. One
grows tired of the commonplace, the imagination becomes vexed, and the
slenderness of our means, the weakness of our faculties, the corruption of
our souls leads us to these abominations."
    Such must surely have been the case, Duclos went on, with the elderly
General C***, one of Guerin's most reliable clients. The women he required
had to be damaged either by Nature, by libertinage, or by the effects of
the law; in a word, he accepted none who were not one-eyed or blind, lame,
hunchbacked, legless cripples, or missing an arm or two, or toothless, or
mutilated in their limbs, or whipped and branded or clearly marked by some
other act of justice, and they always had to be of the ripest old age.
    At the scene I witnessed he had been given a woman of about fifty,
bearing the brand of a public thief, and who was, in addition, missing an
eye. That double degradation figured as a treasure in his view. He closeted
himself with her, had her strip away her clothes, ecstatically kissed the
indubitable signs of crime on her shoulders, ardently sucked each ridge and
furrow of those scars he called honorably won. That accomplished, he
transferred his avid attentions to her asshole, he spread open her
buttocks, appreciatively kissed the withered hole they defended, sucked it
for what seemed an age, and then planting himself astride the old girl's
back, he rubbed his prick on the wounds that attested the triumph of
justice, and as he rubbed, he praised her for having gone down in exemplary
defeat; and then, bending over her bum, he showered further kisses upon the
altar at which he had rendered such a lengthy homage, and squirted an
abundance of fuck upon the inspiring marks which had so fired his own
warrior's spirit.
    "Oh, by God!" cried Curval, whose brain was in a lubricious ferment
that day, "look my friends, behold by the sign of this risen prick what a
flame that passion described ignites in me."
    And calling out to Desgranges:
    "Hither, impure buggress," he continued in the same strain, "come, you
who so resemble what we have just heard described; come, beget me the same
pleasure the general got by her."
    Desgranges approaches. Durcet, his friend in these excesses, helps the
President strip her. She raises a few objections at first; they are the
more certain and pursue their way, scolding her for wishing to hide
something whereby she may be cherished all the more by the society. Her
branded back comes to light at last, and there are a "T" and a "P" which
affirm that she has twice undergone the dishonoring ordeal whose vestiges
nevertheless completely ignite our libertines' impudicious urges.
    The rest of that worn and wasted body - that ass of parchment or
ancient leather, that ample, noxious hole glistening in its center, this
mutilated tit, those three vanished fingers, this short leg that causes her
limp, that mouth destitute of teeth - everything combines to stimulate our
libertine pair. Durcet sucks her from in front, Curval posteriorly, and
even though objects of the greatest beauty and in the best condition are
there before their eyes and ready to brave anything in order to satisfy the
least of their desires, even so it is with what Nature and villainy have
dishonored, have withered, it is with the filthiest and least appetizing
object our two rakes, presently beside themselves, are about to taste the
most delicious pleasures. . . . Ah, now give me your explanation of man -
here are two men who seem as if they were disputing what is nigh to a
cadaver, like two savage mastiffs wrangling over a corpse; here, I say, we
have two eminent citizens who, after having given themselves over to the
foulest excesses, finally erupt their fuck, and notwithstanding the
exhaustion caused by these feats, would very possibly go on to perform
other ones of the same crapulous and infamous kind, and perform them
without an instant's delay, were it not for the supper bell announcing
other pleasures well worth their consideration.
    The President, made desperate by his loss of fuck, and who in such
cases could never be revived save by excessive feeding and swilling, flew
to work and stuffed himself like a pig. Adonis frigged Invictus and gave
him some fuck to drink, but hardly content with this latest outrage, which
had been executed at once, Curval rose, said his imagination proposed a few
rather more delicious stunts, and without further explanation, led Fanchon,
Adonis, and Hercule away with him to the further boudoir and did not
reappear until the orgies; but then conducted himself so brilliantly that
he was again able to commit a thousand fresh horrors, each more
extraordinary than the other, but not, we regret, to be described to the
reader, or rather not yet, for the structure of our tale obliges us to
defer them.
    And then to bed. Curval, the unfathomable Curval to whom that night the
divine Adelaide, his daughter, befell, Curval, who could have spent a most
delightful night with her, was found the next morning squirming over the
body of the disgusting Fanchon, with whom he had performed additional
abominations all night long, whilst Adonis and Adelaide, driven from his
couch, were, one of them, in a little bed far away, and the other lying on
a mattress upon the floor.




THE SIXTH DAY
    It was Monseigneur's turn to assist at the masturbations; he presented
himself. Had Duclos' disciples been males, Monseigneur would probably not
have been able to resist them. But a little crack below the navel was a
frightful blemish in his eyes, and had the Graces themselves encircled him,
once he had caught sight of that imperfection nothing more would have been
needed to calm him. And so he put up an indomitable defense, I even believe
his prick remained limp, and the operations were continued.
    Nothing could be plainer than that Messieurs were extremely eager to
find fault with the eight little girls so as to procure themselves the
following day, which was the fatal Saturday of retribution, so as, I say,
at this time to procure themselves the pleasure of punishing all eight.
They had six already on the list; the sweet and beautiful Zelmire made the
seventh; did she in all good faith really merit correction? or was it
simply that the pleasure of inflicting the proposed penalty won out in a
struggle with strict equity? we leave the question to be decided by the
wise Durcet's conscience; our task is simply to record events. One very
fair dame further swelled the miscreants' ranks: 'twas the gentle Adelaide.
Durcet, her husband, appeared anxious to set an example by pardoning less
in her than in the others, and it was he himself she happened to
disappoint. He had led her to a certain place where the services she had
been forced to render him, after certain of his functions, were something
less than absolutely clean or palatable; not everyone is as depraved as
Curval, and although Adelaide was his daughter, she had none of his tastes.
She may have balked. Or she may have managed poorly. Or, again, it might
only have been some teasing on Durcet's part. Whatever the cause, she was
inscribed upon the punishment list, to the vast satisfaction of nearly all
concerned.
    The examination of the boys' quarters having unearthed nothing, the
friends moved on to the arcane pleasures of the chapel, pleasures all the
more piquant and all the more extraordinary in that even those who besought
permission to come and procure them, were usually refused admittance.
Constance, two subaltern fuckers, and Michette were the only ones to attend
that morning's party.
    At dinner, Zephyr, of whom they were becoming prouder every day, what
for the charms which seemed more and more to embellish him and the
voluntary libertinage wherein he was making great strides, Zephyr, I say,
insulted Constance who, although no longer a waitress, nevertheless always
appeared at the midday meal. He called her a baby-maker and struck her
several blows in the belly to teach her, said he, to lay eggs with her
lover, then he kissed the Duc, caressed him, gave his prick a few
affectionate tugs, and managed so successfully to fire that hero's brain
that Blangis swore the afternoon would not pass without his moistening
Zephyr with fuck; and the little rascal nagged the Duc, daring him to do it
at once. As Zephyr was to serve coffee, he left at dessert time and
reappeared naked with the Duc's cup. Instantly they were settled in the
salon, the Duc, very animated, began with one or two smutty remarks; then
sucked the child's mouth and prick, set him on a chair, his ass at the
level of his mouth, and earnestly pumped at his hole for fifteen minutes.
His prick rebelled at last, dressed its lofty head, and the Duc saw very
clearly that the homage required some incense after all. However, their
contract forbade everything save the expedient employed the day before; the
Duc resolved therefore to emulate his associates. He had Zephyr crouch on a
sofa, drove his engine between the lad's thighs, but what had befallen
Curval happened also to the Duc: his device protruded half a foot beyond.
    "You'd best do as I did," Curval advised, "frig the child against your
prick, water your glans with his fuck."
    But the Duc found it more pleasant to impale two at the same time. He
besought his brother to fit Augustine in place, her buttocks were pressed
flush against Zephyr's thighs and the Duc, thus simultaneously fucking a
boy and a girl, as it were, to put yet a little more of the lubricious into
the thing, frigged Zephyr's prick on the pretty, round and fair buttocks of
Augustine, and soaked them with that child-fuck which, as may easily be
imagined, was mightily warmed by such treatment and soon spattered
abundantly out.
    Curval, who found the general perspective very inviting, and who spied
the Duc's ass, open wide and fairly yawning for a prick - as does the ass
of every bugger at those instants his prick is up - Curval, I say, drew up
to repay him in kind for what he had received the previous evening, and the
dear Duc no sooner felt the voluptuous joltings occasioned by this
intromission, than his fuck, taking wing at almost the same time Zephyr's
departed him, splashed the lower edges of the temple whose columns Zephyr
was wetting. But Curval did not discharge, and withdrawing his proud and
mettlesome engine from the Duc's bum, he menaced the Bishop, who was
likewise frigging himself between Giton's thighs, threatening to make him
undergo the fate the Duc had just experienced. The Bishop hurls a
challenge, 'tis accepted, battle is joined, the Bishop is embuggered and,
between the thighs of the pretty child he is caressing, goes on deliciously
to lose a draught of libertine fuck most deliciously wheedled out of him.
However, a benevolent spectator to it all, Durcet, having no one but Hebe
and the duenna to attend to his needs, and although nearly dead drunk, was
by no means wasting his opportunities and was quietly perpetrating infamies
the proper time has not yet come to disclose. But calm finally descended
over the field, the warriors slumbered, and woke again at six, the hour
when Duclos' gifted tongue was to lay the foundation for new pleasures.
    The quatrains that evening featured certain sexual changes: that is to
say, all the girls were costumed as sailors, the little boys as tarts; the
effect was ravishing, nothing quickens lust like this voluptuous little
reversal; adorable to find in a little boy what causes him to resemble a
girl, and the girl is far more interesting when for the sake of pleasing
she borrows the sex one would like her to have. Each friend had his wife on
his couch that day; they exchanged congratulations upon that very religious
arrangement, and everyone being ready to listen, Duclos resumed her lewd
stories.
    There was, at Madame Guerin's, a certain girl of about thirty, blond,
rather heavy-set, but unusually fair and healthy; her name was Aurore, she
had a charming mouth, fine teeth, and a voluptuous tongue, but - and who
would believe such a thing? - whether because of a faulty education, or
owing to a weak stomach, from that adorable mouth there used constantly,
incessantly to erupt prodigious quantities of wind, and above all after she
had eaten a heartly meal, she was capable, for the space of an hour, of
blowing a stream of belches powerful enought to turn a windmill. But they
are right who declare no fault exists that is not a little appreciated by
someone, and our fine lass, thanks to this one, had one of the most ardent
suitors: he was a learned and grave professor of Scholasticism at the
Sorbonne who, tired of wasting his time proving the existence of God in his
school, would sometimes come to our brothel to convince himself of the
existence of his dear God's creatures. He would send prior notice of his
intended arrival, and Aurore would feed like one dying of hunger. Curious
to see that pious colloquy, I fly to the spy hole: my lovers greet one
another, I observe a few preliminary caresses all directed upon the mouth,
then most delicately our rhetor seats his companion in a chair, seats
himself opposite her and, taking her hands, deposits his relics between
them, sad old vestiges they were, in the most deplorable state.
    "Act," he enjoins her, "act, my lovely one. Act; you know by what means
I may be drawn from this languid condition, I beg you to adopt them with
all dispatch, for I feel myself pressed mightily to proceed."
    With one hand she fondles the doctor's flabby tool, with the other she
draws his head to hers, glues her lips to his mouth and in no time at all
she has, one after another, shot sixty great belches down his gullet.
Impossible to represent the ecstasy of this servant of God; he was in the
clouds, he inhaled, he swallowed everything that came his way, you'd have
thought the very idea of losing the least puff of air would have distressed
him, and whilst all this was going on, his hands roamed inquiringly over my
colleague's breasts and under her petticoat, but these fingerings were no
more than episodic; the unique and capital object was that mouth
overwhelming him with sighs and digestive rumblings. His prick finally
enlarged by the voluptuous vibrations the ceremony caused to be born in
him, he discharged into my companion's hand, and ran off to deliver a
lecture, protesting as he went that never had he enjoyed himself more.
    Some time after this, a rather more extraordinary man came to the house
with a particular problem in mind, and it well deserves to be mentioned in
this catalogue of natural wonders. Guerin had, that day, urged me to eat,
had all but forced me to eat as copiously as, not long before, I had seen
Aurora dine. Guerin took care to have me served everything she knew I liked
best, and having forewarned me, as we rose from table, of everything I
should have to do for the elderly libertine with whom she intended to match
me, she had me swallow down three grains of emetic dissolved in a glass of
warm water. The old sinner arrived, he was a brothel-hound I had seen
dozens of times before without bothering to find out what he came to do. He
embraces me, drives a dirty and disgusting tongue into my mouth, and the
action of the emetic I'd drunk is complemented by his stinking breath. He
sees my stomach's about to rise, he's in ecstasy. "Courage, dearie," he
cries, "be brave, never fear, I don't propose to lose a drop of it." Being
foreadvised of all he expects of me, I seat him on the couch, lay his head
to rest on the edge of it; his thighs are separated, I unbutton his
breeches, drag out a slack, stunted instrument that betrays no sign of
stiffening, I shake, squeeze, pull it, he opens his mouth: all the while
frigging him, all the while receiving the touches of his impudicious hands
which stray over my buttocks, at point-blank I launch into his mouth the
imperfectly digested dinner that vomitive has fetched up from my stomach.
Our man is beside himself, he rolls his eyes, pants, bolts down the spew,
goes to my lips to seek more of the impure ejaculation that intoxicates
him, he does not indeed miss a drop, and when it seems to him the operation
is in danger of ending, he provokes a repetition of it by dexterously
inserting his appalling tongue into my mouth, and his prick, that prick
I've scarcely been able to touch because of my convulsive retchings, that
prick doubtless warmed by nothing but such infamies, grows purple, rises up
of itself, and weeps into my fingers the unsuspected proof of the
impressions these foul activities have made upon it.
    "Ah, by God's balls," said Curval, "that's a very delicious passion
indeed, but none the less susceptible of improvement."
    "And how?" asked Durcet in a voice broken by signs of lubricity.
    "How?" Curval repeated, "why, by the choice of food and of partner."
    "Partner? Oh, but of course. You'd prefer a Fanchon."
    "To be sure!"
    "And the food?" Durcet continued, while Adelaide frigged him.
    "Food?" the President murmured, "why, I think I'd force her to give me
back, and in the same manner, what I'd just introduced into her."
    "That is to say," stammered the financier, beginning to lose all
control of himself, "you'd spew into her mouth, she'd swallow and then have
to blow it back at you?"
    "Precisely."
    And each rushing into his closet, the President with Fanchon,
Augustine, and Zelamir; Durcet with Desgranges, Rosette, and Invictus:
proceedings were halted for roughly thirty minutes. Then the two lechers
returned.
    "Ah," the Duc said chidingly to Curval, the first to reappear, "you've
been up to some nastiness or other?"
    "Ah, a little of this, a little of that," the President replied, "it's
my life's happiness, you know. I've not much patience with mild or tidy
pleasures."
    "But I trust you were also purged of a little fuck?"
    "Enough of that nonsense," the President said, "do you suppose everyone
is like you, flinging fuck this way and that every six minutes? Why no, I
leave those efforts and that unconscionable prodigality to you and to
vigorous champions like Durcet," he went on, watching the financier stagger
weakily from his closet.
    "Yes," said Durcet, "yes, it's true, there was no resisting the girl.
Desgranges is so filthy in word, deed, and body, she is so adroit, so
suitable in every way . . ."
    "Well, Duclos," the Duc said, "go on with your story, for if we don't
quiet him down, the indiscreet little fellow will tell us everything he
did, and never once consider what a dreadful breach of good manners it is
to boast of the favors one has received from a pretty woman."
    And Duclos obediently returned to her tale.
    Since, said our chronicler, these gentlemen are so fond of that kind of
drollery, I greatly regret they were unable to restrain their enthusiasism
yet another minute, for the effects of what I have still to relate this
evening might, it seems to me, have better found their mark. Precisely that
which Monsieur le President declared to be lacking to the perfection of the
passion I have just described was entirely present in the one that follows;
what a pity, I repeat, that I was unable to get to it in time. The example
of the elderly President de Saclanges affords, in every particular and word
for word, all the singularity Monsieur de Curval appeared to desire. By way
of a partner for him, Guerin had chosen the dean of our chapter: a tall,
sturdy lass of about thirty-six, a great and chronic drunk, loutish, foul-
mouthed, rather a fishmonger's wife, although by no means unattractive; the
good President arrives, they are served supper, both get blind drunk, both
become unreasonable, one vomits in the other's mouth, the one swallows the
stuff, then the other vomits into the mouth of the first, now he swallows,
and so forth and so on, and they finally collapse into the supper's debris,
that is to say, into the filth they've just splashed all over the floor.
And then I am sent into the fray, for my co-worker has not an ounce of
strength left, indeed she has lost consciousness. But this, however, is the
crucial moment from the libertine's point of view: I find him prone, his
prick straight and hard as a crowbar; I seize his instrument, the President
stammers, swears, draws me to him, sucks my mouth, and discharges like a
bull, the while twisting and turning and continuing to wallow in his
ordure.
    The same girl, somewhat later, participated in a drama which was surely
not much less filthy; a monk of some consequence, who paid her very
liberally, threw himself astride her belly after having spread and
immobilized my companion's thighs by tying them to heavy articles of
furniture. Several kinds of food were brought in and served the monk, who
had the dainties placed on the girl's naked belly. The merry fellow then
picks up the morsels he is to eat, and dips them one by one in his
Dulcinea's open cunt, and only consumes them after they have been
completely impregnated with the spices the vagina secretes.
    "Ha!" cried the Bishop, "an entirely novel manner of dining."
    "And one which wouldn't suit you, eh, my Lord?" said Duclos.
    "By God's belly, no!" replied the man of the Church, "I'm not that fond
of the cunt."
    Very well, our storyteller replied, lend an ear to the item with which
I am going to close this evening's narrations, I am persuaded it will amuse
you more.
    I had been with Madame Guerin for eight years - had just reached the
age of seventeen - and during this period not a day had passed without my
seeing a certain farmer-general arrive at the house every morning and be
received with the warmest welcome. He was thought very highly of by the
management; a man of roughly sixty, rotund, short, he resembled Monsieur
Durcet in a good many points. Like Monsieur, he had an air of freshness and
youth, and was also plump; he required a different girl every day, and
those of the house were never used save in emergencies or when someone
contracted abroad failed to meet her appointment. Monsieur Dupont, so was
our financier called, was just as discriminating in his choice of girls as
he was fastidious in his tastes, he simply would not have a whore to attend
to his needs except in the rare and extreme cases I mentioned; he had to
have, on the contrary, working women, shopgirls, especially milliners or
seamstresses. Their age and coloring also had to meet specification: they
had to be between fifteen and eighteen, neither more or less, and, most
important of all, they needed to have a sweetly moldered ass, an ass so
absolutely clean that the least blemish, a mere grain of matter clinging at
the hole was sufficient grounds for rejection. When they were maids, he
paid twice as much.
    They had made plans for, and were that day actually expecting the
arrival of, a young lacemaker of sixteen whose ass was generally acclaimed
by connoisseurs as a true model of what an ass should be; Monsieur Dupont
did not know the treasure that was to be offered him, and as it turned out
the young lady had word sent that on this particular morning she was unable
to leave her parents' house and that matters would have to proceed without
her. Guerin, knowing Dupont had never set eyes on me, ordered me to dress
in a shopgirl's costume at once, to go out, take a cab at the end of the
street, and alight again at the brothel, all this fifteen minutes after
Dupont entered the house; I was to play my role with care and pass myself
for a milliner's apprentice. But the most important consideration of all
was the anise water: I was to fill my stomach at once with half a quart of
it, and directly afterward I was to drink the large glass of balsamic
liqueur she gave me; you shall shortly learn for what its effect was
intended. Everything went forward very smoothly; fortunately, we had been
given several hours' notice, and in this time were able to make thorough
preparations. I arrived at the house with a very silly air, I was presented
to the financier who directly scrutinized me very closely, but as I was
keeping a sharp eye on my conduct, he could discover nothing about my
person which might contradict the story that had been invented for him.
    "Is she a maid?" Dupont asks.
    "Not in that place," says Guerin, pointing to my belly, "but I will
answer for the other side."
    And it was a most impudent lie she told. Little does it matter; our man
believed her, and that alone was necessary.
    "Lift your skirts, hurry it up," says Dupont.
    And Guerin raises my skirts from behind, drawing me toward her as she
does so and thus entirely exposing the temple at which the libertine
performed his worship. He stares, for a moment he fingers my buttocks, he
spreads them with both hands, and evidently satisfied, he announces that
the ass is suitable for his purposes. Next, he asks me several questions
relating to my age, my trade, and content with my feigned innocence and the
look of having been born yesterday that I affect, he has me accompany him
to his apartment, for there was one reserved exclusively for him at
Guerin's: he did not like being observed while at work, he was certain not
to be in this place. Both of us having entered, he carefully shuts and
secures the door, considers me for a moment, then in a rather brutal
fashion - brutality characterized him throughout the scene - he inquired me
whether it were indeed true that I had never been fucked in the ass. As my
role called for total ignorance of the meaning of such an expression, I had
him repeat it, declared I still understood nothing, and when by means of
the most unambigious gestures he conveyed what he wished to say, I replied,
with a stimulated look fo fright and modesty, that I should be a very
unhappy girl indeed if ever I had lent myself to such infamies. Whereupon
he told me to remove my skirts, but only my skirts, and once I had obeyed
him, leaving my blouse down to hide my front, he raised it above my
buttocks to the height of my bodice; but while he was undressing me my
neckerchief slipped down, revealing my breasts. He became incensed.
    "Devil take those damned tits of yours," he cried; "who asked you for
tits? That's what I can't bear about these creatures, every single impudent
one of them is wild to show you her miserable bubs."
    Hastening to cover them over, I approached him to beg his pardon, but
observing that I was going to exhibit my cunt thanks to the posture I was
about to assume, he lost his temper a second time:
    "But, sweet Jesus! Can't you stay put?" he demanded, seizing my
haunches and turning me so that there was no danger he would catch a
glimpse of anything but my ass, "stay that way, fuck your eyes, I don't
care any more of your cunt than I do for your chest, your ass is all you
need with me."
    So saying, he stood up and guided me to the edge of the bed upon which
he installed me in such wise the upper half of my body rested on the bed,
then, seating himself on a very low stool, he found himself situated
between my wide-flung legs and his head on a level with my ass. He peers at
me for another instant, then, deciding I am not yet adjusted as I ought to
be, up he gets, fetches a cushion, fits it under my belly, thus arching my
ass more sharply; he sits down again, examines, and goes about everything
with the sangfroid and confidence of the seasoned and mature libertine. A
moment passes, then he grasps my two buttocks, spreads them, poses his open
mouth upon the hole, fastens his lips hermetically to it, and immediately,
pursuant to the signal he gives me and in obedience to the considerable
pressure that has built up within me, I unleash a booming fart, possibly
the most explosive one he has received in all his life; it shoots down his
gullet and he backs away, furious.
    "What the devil!" he cries, "so you are so bold as to fart into my
mouth, are you?"
    And he straightway claps his mouth to my asshole again.
    "Yes, Monsieur," I say as I release a second stifler, "that's how I
deal with gentlemen who kiss my ass."
    "Very well then! fart, if you must, you little rascal, since you can't
help it, fart, I say, fart as hard as you like and as often as you can."
    From this moment onward I cast off all restraint, nothing can express
the urgency of my desire to give vent to the boisterous winds produced by
the potion I had drunk earlier; our man is thrilled by them, he receives
some in his mouth, the others in his nostrils. After fifteen minutes of
this exercise, he lies down upon the couch, draws me to him, his nose still
wedged between my buttocks, orders me to frig him and meanwhile to continue
a ceremony which gives rise in him to such exquisite pleasures. I fart, I
frig, I manipulate a slack little prick neither much longer nor much
thicker than my finger, but by dint of buffets, jerks, and farts the
instrument finally stiffens. The augmentation of our gentleman's pleasure,
the critical instant's approach is announced by a new iniquity: it is now
his tongue that provokes my farts, 'tis his tongue that, like a flail,
darts deep into my anus in order to stir up the winds, 'tis against his
tongue he wants me to blow those zephyrs, he becomes unreasonable, he is no
longer in possession of his wits, 'tis clear, and his wretched little
engine sadly sprinkles seven or eight drops of watery, brownish sperm upon
my fingers; and now he is restored to his senses. But as his native
brutality fomented his distraction, so now it replaces it at once, and he
barely gives me enough time to readjust myself. He scolds, he mutters and
swears, in one word he offers me the abhorrent image of vice that has
slaked its thirst, and I am made the butt of that unthinking indelicacy
which, once its glitter has paled, seeks to find revenge in scorn for the
worshiped object that latterly captivated the senses.
    "Now that's a man I prefer to all the others," said the Bishop. "And do
you know if he had his little sixteen-year-old apprentice the next day?"
    "Yes, Monseigneur, he did indeed, and the day after that a maid of
fifteen far prettier yet. As few men used to pay as much, few were better
served."
    This passion having stimulated heads so well acquainted with that
species of disorder, and having put them in mind of a taste they all
relished. Messieurs simply could not bear waiting any longer to make use of
it. Each of them plucked what windy fruits there were to be had, neglecting
no likely sources, then supper arrived, with their gourmandizing pleasures
they blended nearly all the infamies they had just heard described, the Duc
got Fanchon tipsy and had the befuddled old thing vomit into his mouth,
Durcet had the whole harem fart, and in the course of the evening swallowed
at least threescore mouthfuls of unwholesome air. As for Curval, in whose
brain all kinds of extravagances danced gaily, he declared he was moved to
perform some solitary orgies and went off to the remote boudoir,
accompanied by Fanchon, Marie, Desgranges, and thirty bottles of Champagne
wine. Later on, all four had to be carried back into society, for they were
discovered floating in a very tide of their own ordures, and the President
was found asleep, his mouth fastened to that of Desgranges, who was still
wearily retching into it. The three other friends aquitted themselves no
less brilliantly, performing feats in like kind or somewhat different; they
too had spent their orgy period drinking, they had got the little girls to
fart, I truly haven't space to tell you all they did, and had it not been
for Duclos, who coolly kept her wits about her, who when it was abandoned
by the others assumed the government of the revels, preserved order, and
put the merrymakers to bed, I repeat that had it not been for Duclos, it is
very probable indeed that rosy-fingered Dawn, opening the gates of Apollo's
palace, would have found them lying still plunged in their excrements,
rather more after the example of swine than like heroes.
    Needful only of rest, each lay by himself that night, and cradled in
Morpheus' arms, recovered a little strength for the strenuous new day
ahead.




THE SEVENTH DAY
    The friends had ceased to participate in Duclos' nine o'clock lessons.
Wearied from the night's riot, fearing, furthermore, lest some operation
might result in loss of fuck at that very early hour, and esteeming,
finally, that this ceremony was accelerating their indifference to joys and
to objects whose interest and integrity it was surely to their advantage to
preserve for a while, they agreed that instead of one of themselves, one of
the fuckers would hereafter take his turn at the morning exercises.
    The inspection and searches were conducted, only one little girl was
wanting to make all eight of them eligible for correction, and she was the
lovely and intriguing Sophie, a child accustomed to fulfilling all her
duties; however ridiculous they may have seemed to her, she respected them
none the less, but Durcet, who had earlier conferred with Louison, her
governess, so artfully caused her to tumble into the snare that she was
declared to be at fault and was as a consequence added to the fatal
register. The sweet Aline, equally subjected to close scrutiny, was also
judged guilty, and so it was that the evening's list contained mention of
the eight little girls, four of the little boys, and two from among the
wives.
    These tasks accomplished, Messieurs concentrated their thoughts upon
the marriage highlighting the festival that marked the end of the first
week. No chapel permissions were granted that day, Monseigneur clad himself
pontifically, they betook themselves to the altar. The Duc, representing
the bride's father, and Curval, who represented the young groom's, led
forth Michette and Giton. Both were extraordinarily arrayed in the most
formal dress, but also reversedly, that is to say, the little boy was
costumed as a girl, the little girl wore boy's clothes. We regret to say
that the sequence we originally established for the treatment of our matter
obliges us to postpone yet a little longer the pleasure the reader will
doubtless take in learning the details of this religious ceremony; but the
appropriate moment for disclosing them will surely arrive, and probably
fairly soon.
    Messieurs passed into the salon. It was while awaiting the hour of
dinner our four libertines, encloseted with that charming little couple,
had them remove their clothing, and obliged them mutually to perform
everything in the sphere of matrimonial ritual their age permitted, with
the single exception of the introduction of the virile member into the
little girl's vagina, which introduction could perfectly well have been
effected, for the boy stiffened very satisfactorily, but he was held in
check in order that nothing might happen to spoil a flower destined for
plucking by others. But, apart from that, they were allowed to finger and
caress one another; young Michette polluted her little husband and Giton,
aided by his masters, frigged his little wife as nicely as you please.
However, they were both beginning to realize full well the bondage they
were in, and this recognition prevented voluptuous joy, even that joy their
young years permitted them to experience, from being born in their little
hearts.
    They dined, the bride and the groom assisted at the wedding feast, but
at coffee, heads having waxed hot over them, they were stripped naked, as
were Zelamir, Cupidon, Rosette, and Colombe, who were serving coffee.
Thigh-fuckery having become fashionable at this time of day, Curval laid
hands on the husband, the Duc captured his bride, and the two men enthighed
the couple on the spot. The Bishop, who since coffee had been brought in
had taken a liking to him, now fell ravenously upon the charming Zelamir's
behind, which he tongued, sucked, and whence he elicited farts, and he soon
managed to transpierce the little fellow in the same way, while Durcet
committed his preferred little villainies upon Cupidon's charming behind.
Our two principal athletes did not discharge; one of them soon had Rosette
in his clutches, the other Colombe, they slipped their pricks between the
children's legs and, just as they had with Michette and Giton, ordered them
to frig, with their pretty little hands and in accordance with the
instruction they had been receiving, those monstrous prick ends thrusting
beyond their crotches and out into space; and while the youngsters toiled
away, the libertines comfortably fingered their helpers' delicious, fresh
little assholes. And still no fuck shed; Messieurs knew full well what
delicious chores lay ahead that evening, they proceeded circumspectly. The
young couple's privileges were abrogated, their marriage, although made in
keeping with every formality, became no more than a jest; they each of them
returned to their quatrains, and the company established itself in the
auditorium. Duclos took up her story.
    A man with more or less the same predilections as the financier whose
exploits terminated yesterday evening's recital shall be the athlete whom,
may it please your Lordships, today's shall begin. He was a crown attorney
of some sixty years and not only were his eccentricities unusual, but for
practicing them he would have none but women older than he. Guerin gave him
one of her friends, an aged procuress whose withered buttocks bore a
powerful likeness to a crumple of old parchment being used to keep tobacco
moist. Such, notwithstanding, was to be the object employed for our
libertine's offerings. He knelt down before that decrepit bum and kissed it
lovingly; farts were blown up his nose, he waxed ecstatic, opened his
mouth, the lady opened her vent, his tongue went enthusiastically in quest
of the mellow winds soughing in that tunnel. He could not resist the
delirium into which the operation was plunging him. From his breeches he
has brought out an ancient, pale, shriveled little device, an object as
ill-favored as the one he deifies. "Ah! Fart, my old sweetie, fart
thoughtlessly, fart abundantly," he cries, frigging himself with all his
strength. "Fart, my love, for only thy little farts will break the spell
binding this slumbering prince." The procuress redoubles her efforts, and,
drunk with joy, the libertine surrenders his burden: between his goddess'
legs fall two or three unhappy droplets of the sperm responsible for the
whole of his delight.
    O terrible effect of example! Who would have believed it? At the very
same instant, and quite as if they had received a signal, all four of our
libertines individually summon the duennas of their quadrilles. They lay
eager hands upon those foul and rammy asses, solicit farts, obtain them,
and are fully prepared to be just as happy as the crown attorney, but
restrain themselves, for they remember the pleasures awaiting them at the
orgies; whereupon they dismiss each his Venus, and Duclos continues:
    I shall lay little emphasis upon the following passions, said that
amiable creature, for I realize that there are not many in your midst,
Messieurs, who are its votaries; however, you have commanded me to tell
everything, and I obey. A very young man, a young man with a very handsome
face, used to find it vastly amusing to lick out my cunt once a month, and
at a certain period. I would be lying on my back, my legs flung wide, he
used to kneel in front of me and suck, with both hands lifting my flanks so
as to bring my cunt to within easy reach. He swallowed both fuck and blood,
for he managed so adroitly, worked with such good will, and was such a
pretty lad I used to discharge. He would frig himself, would be in seventh
heaven, nothing evidently could afford him so much pleasure, and the
hottest, the most ardent discharge, performed while in action, used always
to convince me of his high humor. The following day he would usually see
Aurore, not long afterward it would be my sister, and in the course of the
month he would pass us all in review, and he doubtless made the rounds of
every other whorehouse in Paris at the same time.
    But, Messieurs, I believe you will concur in my judgment when I say
that the aforementioned caprice is no more singular than that of another
gentleman, an old friend of Guerin, who had been furnishing him for years.
She assured us that all his joy consisted in eating expelled ovulations and
in lapping up miscarriages; he would be notified whenever a girl found
herself in that case, he would rush to the house and swallow the embryo,
half swooning with satisfaction.
    "I knew that particular man," said Curval. "His existence and his
tastes are as authentic as anything else in the world."
    "Perhaps," said the Bishop. "And I know something just as certain as
your man, and that is I'd not imitate him."
    "And why, pray tell?" asked the President. "I am convinced it would
produce a lively discharge, and were Constance to grant me her kind
permission, for I hear she's gravid now, why, I can promise her I'll fetch
Monsieur her son along before he's fully done, and I'll toss him off like a
sardine."
    "Oh, all the world knows your horror of pregnant women," cried
Constance, "and everyone also knows you only got rid of Adelaide's mother
because she conceived a second time, and if Julie were to take my advice,
she'd be careful."
    "Why yes, 'tis perfectly true that I am not fond of progeny," quoth
Curval, "and that when the beast is laden it quickens a furious loathing in
me, but to imagine I killed my wife on that account is to be gravely
mistaken. Bitch that you are, get it into your head that I have no need of
reasons in order to kill a woman, above all a bitch that, were she mine,
I'd very surely keep from whelping."
    Constance and Adelaide fell to weeping, and this brief dialogue
revealed something of the secret hatred the President bore for the charming
wife of the Duc who, for his part, very far from supporting her in
discussion, replied to Curval, saying that he ought perfectly well to know
that he, Blangis, was equally illdisposed to offspring, and that although
Constance was pregnant, she had not yet given birth. And at this point
Constance's tears flowed all the faster; she was on her father's couch, and
Durcet, not taxing himself to comfort her, advised her daughter that if she
did not cease her blubbering that instant, her state notwithstanding, he
was going to boot her ass out of the auditorium. The hapless creature shed
inwardly upon her heart the tears wherewith she was reproached, and was
content to say: "Alas, Great God! very wretched am I, but 'tis my fate, I
must endure it." Adelaide, who had also been weeping away on the Duc's
couch and whose distress the Duc had been moving heaven and earth to
increase, also managed to dry her tears, and this scene, somewhat tragical
although very mirthful to our four libertines' villainous souls, ground to
an end, and Duclos resumed her tale:
    In Guerin's establishment there was a room most curiously constructed,
and it was always used by one man. It had a double floor, and this narrow
between-stories area, where there was only space enough to lie down, served
to lodge the uncommon breed of libertine in the interests of whose passion
I had regular employment. He would take a girl and, descending through a
trap door, would lie down and arrange himself in such a manner his head was
directly below a hole that had been bored in the floor above; the girl
accompanying him had the single chore of frigging him, and I, located
above, had simply to do the same thing for a second man. The hole, obscure
and seemingly a natural flaw in the planks, remained uncovered as if
through negligence, and I, acting at the behest of tidiness, eager to avoid
spotting the floor, would while manualizing my man direct his fuck so that
it fell through the hole and, consequently, upon the face of the gentleman
below. It was all managed with such skill nothing seemed out of place, and
the operation would be a success each time: at the moment the fuck frigged
from the person above splashed upon the nose of the person being frigged
below, the latter would unleash his own, and that was all there was to it.
    However, the elderly dame I mentioned not long ago reappeared, but she
was to be pitted against a different champion. This new one, a man of about
fifty, had her remove her clothes and then licked out every orifice in her
old corpse: ass, cunt, mouth, nostrils, armpits, ears, he omitted nothing,
and with each sucking the rascal swallowed whatever he obtained. And he
went further still, he had her chew slices of pastry which he would then
have out of her mouth and into his, and swallow. He would have her keep
mouthfuls of wine she had gargled or swished about, he would have them from
her, and drink them too; and all the while his prick would be so furiously
erected that the fuck seemed ready to fly all unaided. Finally he would
sense the crucial instant's arrival and, hurling himself upon the crone, he
would thrust his tongue at least six inches into her asshole and discharge
like a madman.
    "Ah, by God!" said Curval, "will you now say that youth and pretty
looks are indispensable to an elicitation of fuck? Why, once again 'tis the
filthy act that causes the greatest pleasure: and the filthier it be, the
more voluptuously fuck is shed."
    "Those are the piquant salts," Durcet concurred, "which as they are
exhaled from the object serving our lust, enter us and irritate our animal
spirits, put them in a commotion; well now, who is it doubts that
everything derelict, maculate, or stinking secretes a greater quantity of
these salts and hence has a greater capacity for stimulating and
determining our discharge?"     This thesis was soberly discussed for a
little while; as there was a quantity of work to be done after supper, it
was served earlier than was customary, and at dessert the little girls,
every one of them condemned to do penance, departed for the salon where
they were to be corrected together with the four boys and the two wives who
also lay under sentence. That made fourteen victims: the eight girls, whose
names the reader knows, Adelaide and Aline, and four youths: Narcisse,
Cupidon, Zelamir, and Giton. Already drunk with anticipation of the
particular delight that was awaiting them and of which they were incredibly
fond, they completed their intoxication by imbibing a prodigious amount of
wine and liqueurs, and then removed to the salon where the patients were
awaiting them, and such was Messieurs' common state, so besotted were they,
in such lecherous fury did they enter, that there is surely no one in the
wide world who would have wished to exchange places with those unlucky
culprits.
    Attendance at the orgies was that day confined to the delinquents and
the four elders who were there as servants; everyone was naked, everyone
trembled, everyone was weeping and wondering what to expect when the
President, taking his seat in a tall armchair, bade Durcet announce the
name of each criminal, and cite his offense. Durcet's face was as wrathful
as his colleague's, he took up the register and undertook to read from it,
but encountered difficulties and was unable to proceed; the Bishop came to
his rescue, and although quite as drunk as the banker, held his wine with
greater success and in a loud voice read one after the other the names of
the guilty and their faults; and after each citation the President
pronounced sentence in keeping with the physical faculties and age of the
criminal, but the punishment decreed was in every instance severe all the
same. This ceremony concluded, punishment was inflicted. We are in despair,
for here we are once again forced by the design or our history to make a
little detour: yes, we must for the time being omit describing those
lubricious corrections, but our readers will not hold it against us; they
appreciate our inability to give them complete satisfaction at the present
moment; but they can be sure of it, their time will come.
    The ceremony lasted a very long time. There were fourteen subjects to
punish, and some very pleasant episodes interrupted the proceedings. No
doubt of it, everything was delicious, for our scoundrels discharged, all
four of them, and retired so weary, so drunk with wine and pleasure, that
had it not been for the four fuckers who came to fetch them, they might not
have reached their chambers where, despite all they had just accomplished,
further lewd exploits were performed.
    The Duc, who had Adelaide for his bed companion that night, did not
want her. She had been one of the delinquents punished, and punished so
well by him that he, having poured out every drop of his fuck in her honor,
had no more need of her that evening and, relegating her to a mattress on
the floor, he gave her place to Duclos, more firmly installed in his good
graces than ever.




THE EIGHTH DAY
    The previous day's examples having made a deep impression, no one was
found, no one could be found wanting the next day. The lessons continued,
they were executed upon the fuckers, and as the day produced no outstanding
event until coffee, we will begin our account with that little rite. Coffee
was served by Augustine, Zelmire, Narcisse, and Zephyr. The thigh-fuckeries
began again, Curval laid hands on Zelmire, the Duc on Augustine, and after
having admired and kissed their pretty buttocks which, I truly don't know
why, that day possessed a charm, an attraction, a blush of vermilion the
friends had not hitherto remarked, after, I say, our libertines had
thoroughly kissed and caressed those exquisite little asses, farts were
elicited from them; the Bishop, who had Narcisse in his grip, had already
procured himself some, Zephyr's could be heard spluttering into Durcet's
mouth - why not imitate them? Zelmire succeeded, but Augustine had striven
with might and main, the Duc had threatened her with another Saturday
martyrdom, with punishment as severe as what she had just suffered the day
before, but strains and struggles, menaces and imprecations were all in
vain, nothing emerged from the poor little creature, she was already in
tears when a driblet at length appeared and satisfied the Duc who inhaled
the aroma and, highly pleased with this mark of docility in the pretty
child of whom he was so fond, he camped his enormous engine between her
thighs, then withdrew it as he was about to discharge, and totally
inundated her two buttocks. Curval had done the same to Zelmire, but the
Bishop and Durcet contented themselves with what is known as the little
goosing; later, their nap over, they passed into the auditorium, where the
splendid Duclos, arrayed that day in everything that could most
successfully cause an observer to forget her age, appeared even lovelier
under the candlelight, and our libertines, grown very hot with much looking
at her, were loath to allow her to ascend to the platform without first
having her exhibit her buttocks to the assembly.
    "A magnificent ass, upon my soul," said Curval.
    "Oh, indeed, my friend," said Durcet, "I warrant there are few better
to be seen."
    These encomiums heard, our heroine lowered her skirts, took her seat,
and resumed her story in such wise as the reader shall observe, if he be
pleased to continue, which we advise that he do for the sake of his
pleasure.
    A reflection and an event were responsible, Messieurs, for the shift in
battlefields; the digladiations I shall from now on relate were performed
in other surroundings. The reflection was a most simple one: I remarked the
lamentable condition of my purse, and straightway was set to thinking. I
had been nine years at Madame Guerin's, and although, during that time, I
had disbursed very little, I now found myself without even a hundred louis;
that woman, extremely clever and never once deaf to the pleading of her own
welfare, always found a way to pocket two-thirds of the house's receipts
and to impose additional deductions upon the remainder. These practices
displeased me and, subject to repeated solicitations from another
procuress, Madame Fournier, who wanted nothing more than to have me settle
down with her, and knowing that this Fournier received elderly debauchees
of a higher tone and greater means than Guerin's clientele, I decided to
take my leave of the one and throw in my lot with the other. As for the
event which lent support to my ideas, it was the loss of my sister: I had
grown very attached to her, and I could no longer remain in a house where
everything reminded me of her but whence she was absent.
    For nearly six months that dear sister had been receiving visits from a
tall, dark, and silent man whose face I found exceedingly disagreeable.
They would retire together, and I do not know how they passed their time,
for never did my sister want to discuss what they did, and never did they
cavort in a place where I could view their commerce. In any event, she came
into my room one fine morning, embraced me, and said that her fortune was
made, she was to be the mistress of the tall man I disliked, and I learned
only that the deciding factor in her conquest was the beauty of her
buttocks. And with that she gave me her address, settled her accounts with
Guerin, gave each of us a farewell kiss, and left. You may be sure that I
did not fail to go the indicated address, for I wished to see her. It was
two days after her departure; I arrived, asked for my sister, and my
request was answered by shrugs and blank expressions. I saw perfectly clear
that my sister had been duped, for I could not imagine she would have
deprived me of the pleasure of her company. When I related the thing to
Guerin and complained of what had happened, a malign smile crept over her
face. She refused to explain herself; hence I concluded she was embroiled
in this mysterious adventure but did not want me to become involved in it.
It all had a deep effect upon me and brought a swift end to my unresolve;
as, Messieurs, I shall have no occasion to speak of that beloved sister in
future, I may say now that, notwithstanding the inquiries I had made and
the lengths to which I went to find her, I was never able to discover what
had become of her.
    "I dare say not," Desgranges observed, "for, twenty-four hours after
having left you, she was no longer alive. No, she did not deceive you;
rather, she was herself deceived. But, as you surmised, Guerin knew what
was afoot."
    "Merciful Heavens! what are you telling me?" cried Duclos. "Alas!
though deprived of the sight of her, I still imagined she was alive."
    "Most erroneously," Desgranges replied. "She told you the strict truth:
it was indeed the beauty of her buttocks, the astonishing superiority of
that memorable ass that procured her the adventure in which she flattered
herself a fortune was to be earned, but wherein she gained death only."
    "And the tall silent man?" Duclos asked.
    "He was no more than the courtier in the story, he was working for
another."
    "Yet, I tell you, he saw her assiduously for six months."
    "In order to deceive her," Desgranges answered; "but go on with your
tale, these clarifications might prove tedious to their Lordships, and
should they wish to hear more of the matter, they may rest assured the
anecdote will figure in my depositions."
    "And spare us any emotional demonstrations, Duclos," said the Duc
dryly, upon noticing that it was all she could do to keep back a few
involuntary tears, "we don't much care for regrets and grievings, you know;
as a matter of fact, all the works of Nature could be blown to hell and
we'd not emit so much as a sigh. Leave tears to idiots and children, and
may they never soil the cheeks of a clearheaded, clear-thinking woman, the
sort we esteem."
    With these words, our heroine took herself in hand and resumed her
narrative at once.
    Owing to the two reasons I have just presented to your Lordships, I
made up my mind to leave; Fournier offered me better accommodations, a far
more interesting table, much more remunerative although more arduous work,
an equal share in the receipts, and service charges. I went to her at once.
At that time she occupied an entire house, and five pretty young girls
composed her seraglio; I made the sixth. You will allow me to proceed again
as earlier I did when describing Guerin's establishment: I will not portray
my companions-at-arms until one by one they step into the arena.
    On the morrow of my arrival, I was given a project, for Fournier ran a
bustling house, people came and went all the time, each of us would often
receive five or six clients in the space of a day; but I shall continue, as
I have until now, to select none but those who, by dint of singularity or
piquancy, are apt to arrest your attention.
    The first man I welcomed in my new habitation was a disbursing
official, aged about fifty. He had me kneel by the bed with my chin resting
on its edge; he established himself on the bed, kneeling also, and above
me. He frigged his prick squarely into my mouth, commanding me to keep it
wide open; I lost not a drop, and the bawdy fellow was prodigiously amused
by the contortions and efforts to vomit this disgusting mouthwash caused in
me.
    You will perhaps prefer me to group the four other adventures in this
category I had at Madame Fournier´s, although you understand, Messieurs,
that these encounters were separated in time. I am certain the telling will
be far from displeasing to Monsieur Durcet, and perhaps very opportune, and
for the rest of the evening he will most kindly permit me to entertain him
with accounts of a passion for which he has enthusiasm, and which procured
me the honor of making his acquaintance.
    "What's this?" exclaimed Durcet; "you are going to have me play a role
in your story?"
    "With your gracious leave, my Lord," Duclos replied. "I shall simply
advise Messieurs when I reach the point where you make your entrance."
    "But my modesty . . . oh dear, oh dear! Before these little girls, do
you mean you intend to disclose all my turpitudes to their innocent
hearing?"
    And everyone having chuckled over the financier's whimsical fears,
Duclos resumed her narrative.
    Another libertine, much older and in a different way digusting,
succeeded the one I mentioned a moment ago, and came to give me a second
representation of the same mania; he had me stretch out naked upon a bed,
stretched out himself, his head to my toe, popped his prick in my mouth and
his tongue in my cunt, and having adopted this attitude, bade me make
return for the voluptuous titillations he declared his tongue was very
certainly going to procure for me. I sucked as best I could; he had my
pucelage, he licked, bubbled, splashed about and, without doubt, in all
these maneuvers, labored infinitely more in his own behalf than in mine.
Whatever may have been the truth, I felt nothing, and was exceedingly happy
not to be horribly revolted by the whole affair; there ensued the roue's
discharge, an operation which, in accordance with Fournier's earnest
wishes, for she had given me foreknowledge of everything, an operation, I
say, which I strove to make as lubricious as possible by sucking, by
wringing the juice from his prick with my lips, by swishing it about in my
mouth, and by running my hand over his buttocks and tickling his anus,
which last detail, he indicated, pleased him very much, and which he
performed on me in turn as best he could. . . . The business completed, our
man beat his retreat, assuring Madame Fournier that never yet had he been
outfitted with a girl who gave him more satisfaction than I.
    Shortly after this latest of my exploits, an old witch of about seventy
came to our house; I was curious to know what brought her to us, she seemed
to have an expectant air, and, yes, I was told that she was awaiting a
customer. Extremely eager to see to what purpose the old bag of bones was
going to be put, I asked my companions whether there were not a room from
which one might have a view of the bouts, as had been possible at Guerin's.
One of my friends replied that indeed such facilities were available and
led me to a chamber equipped with not one, but two holes; we took our
posts, and this is what we saw and heard, for the wall was no more than a
thin partition, and sound traversed it so easily we lost not a word. The
old dame arrived first. She looked at herself in a mirror, primped, made
adjustments, as if she fancied her charms were yet capable of conquering. A
few minutes later, in walked this Chloë's Daphnis; he was sixty at the
most, a tax commissioner, a man who was very comfortably well off and who
preferred spending his money upon worn-out sluts, old trash like this,
rather than upon pretty girls; and why? 'Twas a singularity of taste you
say that you understand, Messieurs, and indeed you explain the thing
admirably. He advances, surveying his Dulcinea; she makes him a bow of
deepest respect.
    "No nonsense, you old bitch," says the rake, "I don't care for elegant
manners. Get out of your clothes. . . . But wait just one moment. Have you
any teeth?"
    "No, Sire, not a one is left in my head," quoth the lady, opening her
foul old mouth. "See for yourself, may it please your Lordship."
    Whereupon up steps his Lordship and, grasping her head, he deposits
upon her lips one of the most passionate kisses I have seen in all my life;
not merely did he kiss, but he sucked, he devoured, most amorously he
darted his tongue far, far into that putrid gullet, and the dear old
grandmother, of whom not so much had been made in many a long year, replied
with a tenderness which . . . I should have much difficulty describing to
you.
    "Very well," said the official, "that will do. Off with your clothes."
    Meanwhile, he too undoes his breeches and brings out a little dark and
wrinkled member about which there is nothing at all that promises an early
erection. However, the old girl is naked, and with unimaginable effrontery
comes up to offer her lover the sight of an ancient, yellow, and shriveled
body, dry, shapeless, and unfleshed, the full description whereof,
irrespective of your particular fancies in such matters, would so fill you
with horror it were better for me to say no more; but far from being
disgusted, repelled, upset by what greets his eye, our libertine is
positively enchanted; ecstatic, he seizes her, draws her to where he is
seated in a chair, manualizes her while waiting for her to remove a last
stitch of clothing, again darts his tongue into her mouth and, turning her
around, for a moment pays his respects to the other side of the coin. I
very distinctly saw him fondle her buttocks - but what am I saying?
buttocks? rather, I saw him manipulate the two wrinkled rags which fell in
waves and little ripples from her haunches and lay flapping on her thighs.
Well, such as they were he drew them apart, voluptuously fastened his lips
upon the infamous cloaca they enclosed, drove his tongue repeatedly
thereinto, and while he sweated happily over this ruin, she struggled to
give some firmness to the moribund device she was rattling.
    "Let's get to the heart of the matter," said her beloved; "without my
favorite stunts, all your attempts will be useless. You've been told?"
    "Yes, Monsieur, I have been told."
    "And you know you've got to swallow?"
    "Yes, my dearie, I'll swallow, oh yes, my little cabbage, my pet, down
it'll go, I'll devour every little drop my duckling makes."
    And therewith the libertine deposits her on the bed, her head lying
toward its foot, he straightway pops his limp engine between her gums,
drives doughtily in up to the balls, wriggles about until, seizing his
delight's legs and perching them upon his shoulders, his snout is nicely
lodged between the old creature's buttocks. His tongue wanders deep into
that exquisite hole; the honeybee going in quest of the rose's nectar sucks
not more voluptuously; the lady sucks too, our hero begins to stir. "Ah,
fuck!" he cries after a quarter of an hour of this libidinous calisthenic,
"suck me, suck me, suck and swallow it, you filthy buggress, swallow, for
it's coming, by Jesus' sweet face, it's coming, don't you feel it?" And
flinging kisses here and there, scattering kisses upon everything in sight,
thighs, vagina, buttocks, anus, everything gets licked, everything is
sucked, the old bitch gulps, and the poor old wreck, who withdraws as slack
a device as the one he inserted, and who has apparently discharged
unerected, goes tottering out all ashamed of his transports, and as
promptly as ever he can gains the door in order to avoid the sobering sight
of the appalling object which has just seduced him in his weakness.
    "And the old bitch?" inquired the Duc.
    The old bitch coughed, spat, blew her nose, dressed with all possible
dispatch, and left.
    A few days later, the same companion thanks to whom I had been able to
enjoy witnessing this scene had her turn. She was a blond girl of about
sixteen, with the world's most interesting physiognomy; I eagerly seized
the opportunity to see her at work. The man with whom she was to hold
conference was at least as old as the tax commissioner. He had her kneel
between his legs, immobilized her head by catching hold of her ears, and
snapped into her startled mouth a prick which looked to me to be dirtier
and more unappetizing than a rag left to soak in the gutter. Observing that
frightful morsel approaching her clean healthy lips, my poor colleague was
moved to back away, but it was not for nothing our gentleman held her like
a spaniel by the ears.
    "What the devil's this?" he muttered. "Are you going to be difficult?"
    And threatening to summon Fournier, who had doubtless recommended the
most conciliatory attitude to her, he triumphed over her hesitations. She
opens her lips, retreats, opens them again and finally, gagging and
spluttering, accepts into that sweetest of mouths that most infamous of
relics; from this point onward, the villain's speech was exceedingly rude.
    "Ah, you little slut!" he shouted in a rage, "you've got scruples, have
you, about sucking the finest prick in France? You suppose, do you, that
one's got to wash one's balls just for your sake? Well, fuck you, bitch:
suck, do you hear? suck the sweetmeat."
    Waxing very hot thanks to these sarcasms and the revulsion he noticed
he was inspiring my companion, for true it is, Messieurs, that the loathing
you quicken in us becomes the gadfly that arouses your pleasure, stings
your lust; waxing most ardent, I say, the libertine plunged into an ecstasy
and left in the poor girl's mouth the most definite evidence of his
virility. Less complaisant than the old woman, she swallowed nothing, and
far more revolted, a moment later she retched her stomach empty, and our
libertine, readjusting himself without paying much attention to what she
was about, laughed sneeringly between his teeth, amused by his
libertinage's cruel consequences.
    My turn came next. But more fortunate than my two predecessors, it was
Cupid himself I was turned over, and after having satisfied him I was left
with nothing but wonder to find tastes so peculiar in a young man so well
framed to please. He arrives, he has me take off what I am wearing and lies
down upon the bed, orders me to squat above his face and with my mouth
proceed to try to wring a discharge from a very mediocre prick, for which
however he has words of praise and whose fuck he entreats me to swallow as
soon as I feel it flow.
    "But don't waste the occasion to idleness," the little libertine added,
"meanwhile, I'd have that cunt of yours flood urine into my mouth, I
promise you I'll swallow it as you shall my fuck, and I'd be delighted to
sniff a few farts from that splendid ass."
    I fell to the task and simultaneously executed my three chores with
such skill and grace that the little anchovy soon vomited all its fury into
my mouth; I swallowed heartily, my Adonis likewise made short shrift of the
piss that poured out of my crack and, while he drank, he inhaled the
fragrance that a continual stream of farts bore to his nostrils.
    "Forsooth, Mademoiselle," murmured Durcet, "you could surely have
dispensed with disclosures that portray all my youthful childishness."
    "Ha!" said the Duc with a merry laugh, "well indeed! You who scarcely
dare look at a cunt today, do you mean to say you used to have 'em piss in
the old days?"
    "'Tis true," said Durcet, "I blush to admit it, for what could be more
dreadful than to have such turpitudes upon one's conscience? Oh, I
presently feel the heavy weight of remorse, my friend. . . . O delicious
asses!" he exclaimed, in his enthusiasm kissing Sophie's which he had drawn
close for a minute's fondling, "O divine asses! how I reproach myself for
the incense I deprived you of! O delicious fundaments, I promise you an
expiatory sacrifice, I swear upon your altars never again while I live to
stray from the paths of rectitude."
    And that splendid behind having heated him somewhat, the libertine
placed the novice in what was doubtless an exceedingly indecent posture but
one in which he was able, as has been seen above, to give his little
anchovy to be sucked while sucking the tidiest, freshest, most voluptuous
of asses. But Durcet, become now too blase, too surfeited with that
pleasure, only very rarely found it invigorating; one could suck all one
wished, he could do the same till his lips cracked, 'twas always the same:
he would withdraw in the same collapsed state and, cursing and swearing at
the girl, would regularly postpone until some happier moment the pleasures
Nature denied him then.
    Not everyone was so unfortunate; the Duc, who had passed into his
closet with Zelamir, Bum-Cleaver, and Therèse, emitted shouts and bellows
which attested to his happiness, and Colombe, hawking and spitting in great
earnestness, left precious little doubt about the temple at which he had
done his worshiping. As for the Bishop, reclining upon his couch in the
most natural manner, Adelaide's buttocks pinching his nose and his prick in
her mouth, he was in seventh heaven, for he was having a wealth of farts
out of the young woman; Curval, in an extremely upright state, plugged
Hebe's little mouth with his outsized stopper, and yielded up his fuck as
he resorted to other stunts.
    Mealtime arrived. The Duc wished to advance the thesis that if
happiness consisted in the entire satisfaction of all the senses, it were
difficult to be happier than were they.
    "The remark is not a libertine's," said Durcet. "How can you be happy
if you are able constantly to satisfy yourself? It is not in desire's
consummation happiness consists, but in the desire itself, in hurdling the
obstacles placed before what one wishes. Well, what is the perspective
here? One needs but wish and one has. I swear to you," he continued, "that
since my arrival here my fuck has not once flowed because of the objects I
find about me in this castle. Every time, I have discharged over what is
not here, what is absent from this place, and so it is," the financier
declared, "that, according to my belief, there is one essential thing
lacking to our happiness. It is the pleasure of comparison, a pleasure
which can only be born of the sight of wretched persons, and here one sees
none at all. It is from the sight of him who does not in the least enjoy
what I enjoy, and who suffers, that comes the charm of being able to say to
oneself: 'I am therefore happier than he.' Wherever men may be found equal,
and where these differences do not exist, happiness shall never exist
either: it is the story of the man who only knows full well what health is
worth after he has been ill."
    "In that case," said the Bishop, "you would maintain as a real source
of pleasure the act of going and contemplating the tears of persons
stricken by misery?"
    "Most assuredly," Durcet replied. "In all the world there is perhaps no
voluptuousness that more flatters the senses than the one you cite."
    "What? You would not succor the lowly and wretched?" exclaimed the
Bishop who took the most genuine delight in engaging Durcet to expetiate
upon a question whose examination was so much to the taste of them all and
upon which, they knew, the financier was able to deliver some very sound
opinions.
    "What is it you term succor?" Durcet responded. "For the voluptuousness
I sense and which is the result of this sweet comparison of their condition
with mine, would cease to exist were I to succor them: by extricating them
from a state of wretchedness, I should cause them to taste an instant's
happiness, thus destroying the distinction between them and myself, thus
destroying all the pleasure afforded by comparison."
    "Well then, following that," reasoned the Duc, "one should in one way
or another, so as the better to establish that distinction indispensable to
happiness, one should, I say, rather aggravate their plight."
    "There is no doubting it," said Durcet, "and that explains the infamies
of which I have been accused all my life. Those who are in perfect
ignorance of my motives," the banker continued, "call me harsh, ferocious,
barbaric, but, laughing at these divers denominations, I go merrily on; I
cause, I dare say, what fools describe as atrocities, but thereby I have
created pleasure-giving distinctions and have made many a delectable
comparison."
    "Come now," said the Duc, "confess, my dear fellow: admit that upon
more than a score of occasions you have engineered the ruin of some poor
folk, simply by that means to serve the perverse tastes you have just
acknowledged."
    "More than a score?" said Durcet. "More than ten score, my friend, and,
without the slightest exaggeration, I could enumerate above four hundred
families reduced to beggardom, a state in which they'd not now be
languishing had it not been for me."
    "And," said Curval, "I fancy you have profited from their ruin?"
    "Why yes, that has very frequently been the case, but I must also
confess that often enough I have acted not to gain, but purely to undo, at
the behest of that certain wickedness which almost always awakens the
organs of lubricity in me; my prick positively jumps when I do evil, in
evil I discover precisely what is needed to stimulate in me all of
pleasure's sensations, and I perform evil for that reason, for it alone,
without any ulterior motive."
    "Upon my soul," declared the President, "I own I fancy nothing better
than that taste. When I was in Parliament I must have voted at least a
hundred times to have some poor devil hanged; they were all innocent, you
know, and I would never indulge in that little injustice without
experiencing, deep within me, a most voluptuous titillation: no more was
needed to inflame my balls, nothing used to heat them more certainly. You
can imagine what I felt when I did worse."
    "It is certain," said the Duc, whose brain was beginning to warm as he
fingered Zephyr, "that crime has sufficient charm of itself to ignite all
the senses, without one having to resort to any other expedient; no one
understands better than I that enormities and malpractices, even those at
the most extreme remove from libertine misbehavior, are quite as capable of
inciting an erection as those which lie directly within the sphere of
libertinage. The man who is addressing you at this very instant has owed
spasms to stealing, murdering, committing arson, and he is perfectly sure
that it is not the object of libertine intentions which fire us, but the
idea of evil, and that consequently it is thanks only to evil and only in
the name of evil one stiffens, not thanks to the object, and were this
object to be divested of the power to cause us to do evil, our prick would
droop, 'twould interet us no more."
    "What could be more certain than that?" the Bishop demanded. "And
thence is born another certitude: the greatest pleasure is derived from the
most infamous source. The doctrine which must perpetually govern our
conduct is this: the more pleasure you seek in the depths of crime, the
more frightful the crime must be; as for myself, Messieurs," added the
Bishop, "if I may be permitted to speak personally, I affirm that I have
reached the point of no longer being susceptible of this sensation you have
been discussing, of no longer experiencing it, I say, as a result of lesser
or minor crimes, and if the one I perpetrate does not combine as much of
the atrocious, of the base, of the vicious, of the deceitful, of the
treacherous as may be possibly imagined, the sensation is not merely faint,
there is no sensation at all."
    "Very well," said Durcet, "is it possible to commit crimes such as
these our minds yearn after, crimes like those you mention? For my part, I
must declare that my imagination has always outdistanced my faculties; I
lack the means to do what I would do, I have conceived of a thousand times
more and better than I have done, and I have ever had complaint against
Nature who, while giving me the desire to outrage her, has always deprived
me of the means."
    "There are," said Curval, "but two or three crimes to perform in this
world, and they, once done, there's no more to be said; all the rest is
inferior, you cease any longer to feel. Ah, how many times, by God, have I
not longed to be able to assail the sun, snatch it out of the universe,
make a general darkness, or use that star to burn the world! oh, that would
be a crime, oh yes, and not a little misdemeanor such as are all the ones
we perform who are limited in a whole year's time to metamorphosing a dozen
creatures into lumps of clay."
    Whereupon, their minds having waxed gay and hot, as two or three young
girls had already had cause to remark, and their pricks beginning to rise,
they left the table and went in search of pretty mouths, thereinto to pour
the floods of that liquor whose too insistent throbbings promoted the
utterance of so many horrors. That evening they confined themselves to
mouth pleasures, but invented a hundred manners of varying them, and when
they had run, all four of them, each a magnificent race, in a few hours of
repose they sought to find the strength necessary to starting out afresh.




THE NINTH DAY
    That morning Duclos expressed her opinion, saying she held it prudent
either to offer the little girls new patients to replace the fuckers then
being employed in the masturbation exercises, or to terminate their
lessons, for she believed their education sufficiently advanced. Duclos
very astutely pointed out that by continued use of the young men known by
their title of fucker, there might result that species of intrigue
Messieurs wished especially to prevent; moreover, she added, for such
exercises these young men were worth nothing at all; since they were prone
to discharge immediately after they were touched, their skittishness or
incontinence ought certainly be better exploited, Messieurs' asses had only
to lose if the program remained unchanged. It was therefore decided that
the lessons would cease; they had generally succeeded, there were already
amongst the little girls a few who frigged masterfully: Augustine, Sophie,
and Colombe could easily have been matched, what for skill and nimbleness
of wrist, against the capital's most famous friggers. Of them all, Zelmire
was least adept: not that she lacked agility or that considerable science
was not conspicious in all her motions, no, but it was her tender and
melancholic character which stood in her way, she seemed unable to forget
her sorrows, she was sad and pensive at all times. At that morning's
breakfast inspection tour, her duenna affirmed she had the previous evening
caught the child in a prayerful attitude, flagrantly on her knees before
retiring; Zelmire was summoned, questioned, she was asked the subject of
her prayers; she at first refused to answer, then, threats having been
employed, she fell to weeping and admitted she had besought God to deliver
her from the perils wherewith she was beset, and had above all prayed that
help would come before her virginity were lost. The Duc thereupon declared
she deserved to die, and made her read the articles which dealt
specifically with this subject.
    "Very well," she sighed, "kill me, at least the God I invoke shall have
pity upon me, kill me before you dishonor me, and that soul I have devoted
to Him will at least fly in purity to His breast. I shall be delivered of
the torment of seeing and hearing so many horrors every day."
    A reply wherein reigned such a quantity of virtue, of candid innocence,
and of gracious amenity caused our libertines prodigiuosly to stiffen.
There were voices that called out for her instantaneous depucelation, but
the Duc, reminding his cohorts of the inviolable contract they had
subscribed to, was content to propose - and his suggestion was unanimously
approved - that she be condemned to punished very violently the following
Saturday and that, in the meantime, she kneel and for fifteen minutes take
into her mouth and suck each friend's prick, and that she be given by way
of warning the assurance that, were she to repeat her error, it would
decidedly cost her her life, for she would be judged and punished to the
fullest extent of the law. The poor little thing crawled up to accomplish
the first part of her penance, but the Duc, whom the ceremony had aroused,
and who after having pronounced sentence had prodigiously fondled her ass,
like the villain he was, shot all his boiling seed into that pretty little
mouth, in so doing threatening to strangle her if she spat out a drop, and
the poor little wretch swallowed it all, not without furious repugnances.
The three others were similarly sucked one after the other, but yielded
nothing, and after the usual visit to the boys' quarters and the excursion
to the chapel, which that morning produced little because almost everyone
had been refused permission to join the party, the meal was served, and
then Messieurs entered the salon for coffee.
    It was served by Fanny, Sophie, Hyacinthe, and Zelamir; Curval fancied
he might thigh-fuck Hyacinthe, and obliged Sophie to post herself in such a
way as to be able to suck that length of his prick which protruded beyond
Hyacinthe's tightly squeezed legs. The scene was pleasant and inspiriting,
he frigged the little chap he held hugged to his belly, and Hyacinthe
discharged upon Sophie's face; the Duc, who owing to the dimensions of his
prick was the only other one who could imitate this performance, likewise
arranged himself with Zelamir and Fanny, but the lad had not yet reached
the discharging age, and thus the nobleman had to do without the very
agreeable episode Curval considered so enjoyable. After they had finished,
Durcet and the Bishop took charge of the four children and had themselves
sucked, but no one discharged, and after a brief nap, the company moved
into the auditorium where, everyone having assumed his place, Duclos went
on with her disclosures.
    Before any other audience, said that amiable girl, I might shrink at
broaching the subject of the narratives wherewith this entire week we shall
be occupied, but however crapulous that subject, I am too well acquainted
with your tastes, Messieurs, to be in any wise apprehensive. No, I believe
you'll not be displeased; quite the contrary, I am convinced you will find
my anecdotes agreeable. I ought however to advise you that you are about to
hear of abominable, filthy goings on; but whose ears could be better made
to appreciate them? your hearts love and desire them, hence I enter into
the matter without further delay or ambages.
    At Madame Fournier's we had a trusty old client who was known as
Chevalier, I don't know why, or whence the title came; his custom was to
pay us a visit every evening, and the little rite that we regularly
performed with him was equally simple and bizarre: he would unbutton his
breeches, and we were required to form a queue and one by one drop a turd
in them. Once we had all done our duty, he would button up again and go off
in great haste, taking that freight with him. While he was being supplied
he would frig himself for an instant or two, but he was never seen to
discharge, and no one knew where he went or what he did with his breechload
of shit.
    "Oh, by Jesus!" muttered Curval, who never heard anything he had not a
desire to do on the spot, "I'll have someone shit in my breeches, and I'll
keep the treasure the whole evening."
    And ordering Louison to come render him that service, the old libertine
provided the assembly with a full-blown dramatization of the whimsy whereof
account had just been delivered.
    "Well, go on," he said phlegmatically, nodding to Duclos and settling
down on his couch again, "there's nothing to it, and I expect it will only
be the lovely Aline, my charming companion for the afternoon, who'll find
something inconvenient about it. As for myself, a pound of shit in the
vicinity suits me perfectly."
    And Duclos resumed her story.
    Forewarned, said she, of all that was destined to take place at the
home of the libertine to whom I was being sent, I dressed myself as a boy,
and as I was only twenty, with pretty hair and a pretty face, that costume
very well became me. Before leaving, I took care to do in my breeches what
Monsieur le President has just had done for him in his. My man was awaiting
me in bed, I approach him, he kisses me very lewdly two or three times, he
tells me I'm the prettiest little boy he's ever set eyes upon, and while
praising me he undertakes to unbutton my breeches. I put up a faint
resistance with the single purpose of inflaming his desires all the more,
he entreats me, urges me, he has his way, but how am I to describe to you
the ecstasy that possesses him whe perceives the package I have brought
along, and the colorful mess it has made of my two buttocks.
    "Why, what's this?" cries he. "You've shit in your breeches, have you?
But, my little rascal, 'tis very nasty, you know. How could you have done
such a thing?"
    And quick as a shot, holding me with my back turned to him and my
breeches pulled down, he sets to frigging and rattling himself, presses
against me, and spurts his fuck upon my beshitted behind, the while driving
his tongue into my mouth.
    "Do you mean to say," exclaimed the Duc, "he refrained from touching
anything? Didn't he handle it?"
    "No, your Lordship," Duclos made him answer, "I recount all that
transpired, I conceal no detail; but have a little patience, Sire, and we
will gradually reach more entertaining circumstances."
    "Come," said one of my companions, "let's go watch a truly humorous
fellow. He doesn't need a girl, he amuses himself all alone."
    We repaired to the hole, having been informed that in the adjoining
room, the one selected for his activities, there was a pierced chair and
beneath it a chamber pot we had been busy filling for four days and in
which there must have been at least a dozen large turds. Our man arrives.
He was an elderly tax-farmer of about seventy years. He shuts the door,
goes straight to the pot he knows to be brimming with the goodies he has
ordered for his sport. He takes up the vessel and, seating himself in an
armchair, passes a full hour gazing lovingly at all the treasure whereof he
has been made the proprietor; he sniffs, inhales, he touches, he handles,
seems to lift one turd out after another in order to contemplate them the
better. Finally become ecstatic, from his fly he pulls a nasty old black
rag which he shakes and beats with all his might; one hand frigs, the other
burrows into the pot and scoops out handfuls of divine unction. He anoints
his tool, but it remains as limp as before. There are moments, after all,
when Nature is so stubborn that even the excesses we most delight in fail
to awake a response. He did all in his power, and unavailingly, for nothing
resulted or rose gloriously up, but by dint of abuse meted out by the same
hand that had just been steeped in the ordure, the ejaculation occurred, he
trembled, thrilled, fell backward, smelled, breathed deeply, rubbed his
prick, and discharged upon the heap of shit which had just so inspired him.
    Another gentleman dined with me one evening. We were alone together,
and twelve large plates filled with the same meats were brought in and
combined with the remnants of an earlier course. He sniffed these new
dishes, sampled their aromas, and after he had finished eating, bade me
frig him upon the one that had struck him as the most handsome.
    A young crown attorney used to pay according to the number of enemas
one was willing to receive at his hands; when I crossed swords with him, I
agreed to accept seven, he administered them all himself; thus, seven times
over had I to mount a little stepladder, while he, stationed underneath me,
frigged himself until I spewed out over his prick the entire charge with
which he had lubricated my bowels.
    As may be readily imagined, the entire evening was devoted to unclean
activities of roughly the same species that had been treated in story, and
that Messieurs turned to this kind of sport will be all the more easily
understood in the light of their general enthusiasm for this passion; it
was of course Curval who carried matters the furthest, but his three
colleagues were scarcely less infatuated with the novelties laid out before
them. The little girls' eight steaming turds were arranged amidst the
supper's dishes, and at the orgies the competition was doubtless even
keener for those of the little boys; and thus ended the ninth day whose
term they saw arrive with the greatest pleasure, for they had high
expectations for the morrow, which was destined to provide them with more
amply detailed anecdotes treating a subject they adored.




THE TENTH DAY
(Remember to be more guarded in the beginning and more
gradually to disclose what is to be clarified here.)
    The farther we advance, the more thoroughly we may inform the reader
about certain facts we were obliged to no more than hint at in the earlier
part of the story. We are able, for example, presently to advise him of the
purpose of the morning visits and searches conducted in the children's
quarters, the cause of their punishment when in the course of these
inspections delinquents were found, and just what were the delights
Messieurs tasted in the chapel: the subjects were expressly forbidden to go
to the toilet or in any other place to move their bowels without individual
and particular permission, this in order that there be held in reserve
matters which could, as the occasion rose, be doled out to those who
desired them. The visit served to determine whether anyone had neglected to
comply with this order; the officer of the month carefully inspected all
the chamber pots and other receptacles, and if he found any that were not
empty, the subject concerned was immediately inscribed in the punishment
register. However, provision had been made for those who could hold back no
longer: they were, a little before the midday meal, to betake themselves to
the chapel Messieurs had converted into a privy so designed that our
libertines were able to enjoy the pleasure which the satisfaction of these
pressing needs had the power to procure them, and the others, who had been
allowed, or who had been able, to keep their loads, had the opportunity to
be rid of them at some time or another during the day and in that manner
which most pleased the friends, and above all in that particular manner
upon which full details will subsequently be provided, for these details
will compass all the manners of indulging in this voluptuous delight.
    And there was yet another cause which led to the distribution of
punishment, and it was the following one: what is called in France the
bidet ceremony did not exactly please our friends; Curval, for example,
could not bear to have the subjects with whom he came to grips wash
themselves; Durcet's attitude was identical, and so it was that the one and
the other would notify their duennas of the subjects with whom they planned
to amuse themselves the next day, and these subjects were forbidden to
wipe, rub, or wash themselves in any way and under any circumstances, and
the two other friends, who did not share this abhorrance of tidiness and
for whom dirt was not by any means essential, nevertheless concurred with
Curval and Durcet, aided in maintaining and agreeable state of affairs, and
it after having been told to be impure a subject took it into his head to
be clean, he was straightway added to the fatal list.
    That is what happened that morning to Colombe and Hebe; they had
shitted during the previous night's orgies and, knowing that they were
listed to serve coffee on the following day, Curval, who planned to amuse
himself with both of them and who had even advised them that they would be
expected to fart, had recommended that things be left just as they were.
The children did nothing to themselves before going to bed. Inspection
arrived, and Durcet, aware of the instructions Curval had given, was
perfectly amazed to find them as neat as a pin; forgetfulness was the
excuse they offered, but their names went down in the register
nevertheless.
    No chapel permissions were granted that morning. (We should like the
reader to make a particular effort to remember what we mean by such an
expression; this will dispense us from having to repeat our explanations.)
Calculations of what would be required during the storytelling period
forbade any prodigality until that time.
    Upon this day the boys' masturbation lessons were suspended, for they
had entirely served their purpose, and every one of the little lads frigged
as expertly as the cleverest whore in Paris. Zephyr and Adonis led the pack
in skill, speed, and deftness, and there are few pricks which would not
ejaculate nigh to bleeding were they to be ministered by little hands as
nimble and delicious as theirs.
    Nothing worth citing occurred until coffee; it was served by Giton,
Adonis, Colombe, and Hebe; these four children had, by way of preparation,
been stuffed with every decoction which is best able to provoke winds, and
Curval, who had proposed to be treated to farts, received a generous
quantity of them. The Duc had himself sucked, or rather licked, by Giton,
whose little mouth simply could not manage to engulf the enormous machine
tendered him. Durcet performed some choice little horrors with Hebe, the
Bishop thigh-fucked Colombe. Six o'clock sounded, they moved into the
auditorium where, everyone having taken his post, Duclos began to recount
what you shall read:
    A new companion had very recently come to Madame Fournier's; owing to
the role she is going to play in the account of the passion which follows,
I believe I should give you at least a rough sketch of her. She was a young
seamstress, debauched by the seducer I earlier mentioned having observed at
Guerin's, and she also worked for Fournier. She was fourteen, had chestnut-
brown hair, sparkling brown eyes, the most voluptuous little face in all
the world, skin lily white and satin smooth, very trimly made she was,
although rather inclining to fleshiness, from which slight disadvantage
there resulted the sweetest, cutest, the plumpest ass, the fairest, oh
'twas possibly the finest ass in Paris. I was stationed at the hole in the
partition and soon beheld the man who was to deflower her, for she was yet
a maid on the other side, nothing could be plainer. Such a tidbit could
only have been fed to someone very much beloved of the house: he was the
venerable Abbe de Fierville, equally renowned for his wealth and his
debauchery, and he had the gout to his very fingertips. He arrives swathed
to the eyes in a mantle, installs himself in the chamber, examines all the
equipment he is about to use, prepares everything, and then the little girl
arrives; her name is Eugenie. Somewhat frightened by her first lover's
grotesque face, she lowers her gaze and blushes.
    "Come hither, come hither," says the libertine, "and show me your
behind."
    "Oh, Monsieur . . ." murmurs the shy little thing.
    "Come, come," fumes the old roue, "nothing worse than these novices;
she just can't imagine anyone should wish to look at an ass. Well, by the
Saviour, get your damned skirts up."
    And, stepping closer for fear of displeasing Fournier, whom she has
promised to be very obedient, she finally pulls her skirt halfway up from
behind.
    "Higher, do you hear, higher," cries the pleasant old rascal. "Do you
suppose I'm going to bother to do it myself?"
    And in due time the beautiful ass is completely exposed. The man of God
scrutinizes it, has her stand straight, has her bend forward, has her
squeeze her legs tight together, has her separate them and, leaning her
over the bed, spends a moment crudely, nay, uncouthly rubbing all his
frontward privities, which he has brought to light and with which he now
prods and pushes Eugenie's matchless bum, as if to electrify himself, as if
to attract to himself some of that lovely child's essential heat. From this
he passes to kisses, he falls to his knees in order to be more at his ease,
and with both hands holding those superb buttocks as far apart as possible,
both his tongue and lips rummage about in search of treasure.
    "They're right," says he, "you do have a passably fine ass. Have you
been shitting recently?"
    "Just a little while ago, Father," the little one answers. "Madame had
me do that before coming up."
    "Why, that's nice . . . and so there's nothing left in your bowels,"
says the lecher. "Well, we're going to see."
    And catching up the syringe, he fills it with milk, returns to behind
his object, brandishes the nozzle, plunges it into the vent, and shoots out
the fluid. Having been told what to expect, Eugenie submits to everything;
no sooner is the remedy in her entrails than he lies down on the bed and
orders Eugenie to come at once and straddle him. "Now," says he, "if you've
got anything to do, have the kindness to do it in my mouth." The timid
creature has taken her place as she has been told to do, she pushes, the
libertine frigs himself, his mouth, sealed hermetically to her asshole,
catches every drop of the precious liquid that leaps out of it. He swallows
it all, giving evidence of the greatest scrupulousness in this matter, and
just when he swills down the final mouthful, his fuck escapes and he is
hurled into a delirium. But what is this strange mood, this cloud of
loathing which, as in the case of almost every other libertine, comes to
darken a mind whence the entire illusion has fled? Brutally casting the
little girl far from him once he has done, the saintly man readjusts his
cleric's garb, says that he has been cheated, deceived, for this child, he
swears, had not priorly shitted, no, they'd lied, she'd come to him full of
shit, and he'd swallowed half her turd, fie upon them. It is to be noted
that Monsieur l'Abbe wanted milk only, not shit. He grumbles, he curses, he
storms, says he won't pay, won't ever come back, says he'll be damned if
he'll stir himself for little snotfaces like this one, and goes off
shouting a thousand other invectives I'll surely have occasion to report to
you in connection with another passion in which they play a major role
rather than, as in this instance, a very subordinate one.
    "Well, by God," Curval remarked, "there you have a very fastidious man
who'll get upset over swallowing a little shit when there are I don't know
how many who feast upon it."
    "Patience, Sire, patience," said Duclos, "allow my recitals to succeed
each other in the order you yourselves dictated and you shall see the
superior libertines you allude to achieve wonders on the stage."
    My turn came two days later. Instructions had been given me, and I
stayed away from the water closet for thirty-six hours. My hero was an
elderly ecclesiastic who served as chaplain to the King; like the
aforementioned athlete he too was crippled with gout: he was only to be
approached if one were naked, but one's front and breast had to be very
thoroughly covered; much emphasis had been placed upon this latter article,
and I had been warned that were he to catch the least glimpse of those
parts, it would prove a heavy misfortune, I'd never be able to get him to
discharge. I approach, he studies my behind with extreme attentiveness,
asks my age, asks whether it is true I have a great urge to shit, inquires
as to the kind of shit I ordinarily produce, is it soft? is it hard? and a
thousand other questions the asking of which, it seems to me, has the
effect of animating him, for, as he chatters away his prick gradually lifts
its head and leans toward me. That prick, approximately four inches in
length by two or three around, had, despite its brilliant sheen, something
of so humble and so pitiful an air that one all but needed spectacles to be
certain of its existence. Solicited by my man thus to do, I laid firm hands
on it, and noticing that my motion were rather well irritating his desires,
he made ready to consummate the sacrifice.
    "But is it a truly authentic desire, my child," says he, "this desire
to shit you mention? For I don't care to be deceived; come, let's see
whether you do indeed have shit in your ass."
    And so saying, he buries his right hand's longest finger in my
fundament, while with his left hand he sustains the erection I have excited
in his desire. That plummeting finger had no need to search far, the
chaplain was swiftly persuaded I had, quite as I said, the sincerest wish
to shit, and when his gropings contacted the object of our mutual concern,
he flew into a perfect ecstasy:
    "Ah, by God's belly," he cries, "she tells the truth, the chicken is
about to lay, and I feel the egg."
    Enchanted, the bawdy old priest passes a moment kissing my bum, and
observing the haste I am in and that I shall soon be unable to restrain the
insurgent turd, he has me climb aboard on apparatus quite similar to the
one your Lordships have here in the chapel; once seated, my behind
perfectly exposed to his view, I was able to lodge my complaint in a
receptable located two or three inches from his nose. This apparatus had
been built expressly for the chaplain, and he employed it frequently, for
scarcely a day went by without him coming to Fournier's to assist in
delivering either some girl attached to the house or some other from
outside it. An armchair drawn close allowed him to observe the process from
a point of vantage situated just below the ring supporting my ass.
    When we had taken our positions upon our respective thrones, he ordered
me to commence the operation. For prelude, I release a series of farts; he
inhales them. The turd hoves into sight at last; he begins to pant.
    "Shit, my little one, shit away, my angel," he cries, all afire. "Show
me the turd coming forth out of your lovely ass."
    And he aids the delivery, pressing his fingers about my anus, he
facilitates the eruption; he frigs himself, he observes, he is drunk with
lust, pleasure's excess finally transports him completely, he loses his
head; his cries, his sighs, his fingerings, everything convinces me he is
nearing the final stage and, turning my head toward him, I find I have
judged correctly, for there is his miniature engine splattering a few drops
of sperm into the same pot I have just filled. The chaplain left in a good
humor, and even assured me he expected he would honor me with another
visit, which promise I knew very well to be false, for it was common
knowledge that he never saw the same girl twice.
    "Well, I appreciate his feelings in the matter," declared the
President, who was kissing Aline's ass. "One must be in our deplorable
situation, one must be reduced to rack and ruin in order to be able to bear
having the same ass shit twice."
    "Monsieur le President," spoke up the Bishop, "there is a certain
halting tone in your voice which leads me to suspect your prick is in the
air."
    "Tush," Curval replied, "I'm merely kissing the buttocks of
Mademoiselle your daughter, who hasn't even the courtesy to let fly one
wretched little fart."
    "I am then enjoying better luck than you," the Bishop announced, "for
Madame your wife, lo and behold! has just presented me with the most
beautiful and the bulkiest turd. . . ."
    "Silence, gentlemen, silence, I say!" came from the Duc, whose voice
seemed muffled as if by something covering his head. "Silence, by Jesus! we
are here to listen, not to act."
    "Which is therefore to say, I take it, that you are doing nothing,"
inquired the Bishop, "and is it in order to listen that you are wallowing
under three or four assholes?"
    Well, you know, he's right. Go on, Duclos, it were wiser that we hear
about foolish acts than commit them. We must save our strength."
    And Duclos was on the point of resuming when they all heard the usual
shouts and customary blasphemies that accompanied the Duc's discharges;
surrounded by his quatrain, his fuck was escaping him as with Sophie,
Zephyr, and Giton he performed countless little wantonries of a kind very
analogous to those Duclos had been describing.
    "Great God!" Curval exclaimed, "I can't tolerate these bad examples;
there's nothing that makes me discharge like a discharge, and would you
believe it? here's that little whore," he added, referring to Aline, "who
only a moment ago could accomplish nothing at all and who is presently
doing everything one could ask for . . . but no matter, I'll keep my grip.
Ah, you bitch, shit away, shit your head off, it will get you nowhere, I
don't intend to give up my seed."
    "I see very well, Messieurs," said Duclos, "that after having perverted
you it is my responsibility to restore you to reason, and to do so I am
going to resume my story without waiting for your command."
    "No, don't you do it," cried the Bishop, "I am not as continent as
Monsieur le President, not I, my fuck's itching me, and it's got to be
shed."
    Wherewith, he was seen very publicly to perform things the structure of
this very complex fiction prevents us from revealing at this stage, but
things whose delightful influence very rapidly brought leaping forth the
fuck whose mounting pressure had discomfited the Bishop's thrice-blessed
balls. As for Durcet, absorbed in Therèse's ass, nothing was heard from
him, and in all likelihood Nature refused him what she lavishly granted the
others, for he was not as a rule mute when accorded her favors. Seeing that
now at last calm had been restored, Duclos went on with her lubricious
exploits.
    A month later, I came to grips with a man whom one had almost to
violate in order satisfactorily to carry out an operation somewhat akin to
the one I related several minutes ago. I shit upon a dish, I bring it to
him and thrust it under his nose while he sits in an armchair quietly
reading a book, seemingly unaware of my presence. He looks up, falls to
swearing, asks how the devil can the girl have the insolence to do such a
thing in his presence, but all the same it's a queer turd she's got there,
he contemplates it, handles it; I ask forgiveness for the liberty I have
taken, he continues to mumble incoherencies at me, and then discharges with
his eyes fixed on the morsel of shit; and in so doing he says he'll find me
again someday, that sooner or later he'll see to it that I get what I
deserve.
    A fourth gentleman employed none but women of seventy or more in
practices which were quite similar; I watched him enact his rite with an
old creature who could not have been less than eighty. He was reclining
upon a sofa, the matron was straddling him; she deposited her strange old
package on his belly while frigging a wrinkled, shriveled prick which
scarcely discharged at all.
    At Fournier's establishment we had another curious article of
furniture: a kind of toilet chair, provided with the usual hole and set
against the wall; things were so arranged that a man could lie in such a
way that while his body extended into the neighboring room, his shoulders
passed through an opening and his head occupied the place usually reserved
for the chamber pot. I had been appointed to the task, and kneeling between
his legs, I sucked his prick as best I could throughout the operation.
Well, this extraordinary ceremony consisted in having a workman, who was
paid to act a part whose full consequences he neither knew nor divined; in
having, I say, a man of the people enter the room containing the chair,
climb upon it, and do his business squarely upon the face of the patient
over whom I was toiling; but the shit bearer had absolutely to be a poor
drudge fetched in from the humblest milieu, he had as well to be old and
ugly, he was inspected before being put to work, and were he to lack any of
these qualities, our libertine would have nothing to do with him. During
all this, I saw nothing but heard rather a lot: the instant of collision
was also that of my man's discharge, his fuck sprang down my throat the
same moment the turd splashed upon his face, and when he emerged from
beneath the chair and got to his feet, I saw by the state he was in that he
had been handsomely served. By chance, after the exercise was over, I
happened to meet the fellow who had performed so brilliantly; he was from
the Auvergne, a good honest chap who earned his livelihood working with
stonemasons; he seemed delighted to earn a crown by doing naught but
ridding himself of what he would have had one way or another to expel from
his bowels, and this little chore struck him as infinitely less arduous
than carrying his hod. He was, what for his looks, quite dreadful to behold
and must have been over forty.
    "Faith," muttered Durcet, "I think that should do it."
    And passing into his closet with the eldest of the fuckers, with
Therèse and Desgranges, he was heard braying and whinnying some minutes
later; he returned but was disinclined to inform the company of the precise
nature of the excesses whereunto he had surrendered himself.
    Supper was announced; it proved at least as libertine as ever, and
after the meal, the four friends having been moved to spend the evening
away from one another instead of frolicking together as they customarily
did, the Duc went off to the boudoir at the end of the corridor, taking
with him Hercule, Martaine, his daughter Julie, Zelmire, Hebe, Zelamir,
Cupidon, and Marie.
    Curval commandeered the auditorium, providing himself with what
companionship Constance could afford him, for she fell to trembling every
time she found herself with him, and he did exceedingly little to allay her
fears; he also took Fanchon, Desgranges, Bum-Cleaver, Augustine, Fanny,
Narcisse, and Zephyr.
    The Bishop went into the drawing room with Duclos who, that evening,
revenged herself upon the fickle Duc, who had led Martaine away from him;
Aline, Invictus, Therèse, Sophie, the charming little Colombe, Celadon, and
Adonis completed the prelate's entourage.
    Durcet remained in the dining room. It was cleared, rugs and cushions
were brought in and strewn all about. He encloseted himself, I say, with
Adelaide, his beloved wife, with Antinoüs, Louison, Champville, Michette,
Rosette, Hyacinthe, and Giton.
    More the redoubling of lecherous appetites than any other reason had
doubtless dictated this arrangement, for brains were heated to such a point
that evening that it was unanimously agreed no one would go to bed; it was
perfectly incredible what was achieved in each room by way of infamies and
impurities.
    Toward dawn, their Lordships decided to return to table, although they
had taken abundant drink throughout the night; everyone trooped into the
dining room, there was an indistinct, promiscuous pell-mell, the cooks were
awakened and soon sent in scrambled eggs, toast, onion soup, and omelettes.
Drinking was resumed, the company grew very merry, all save Constance who
was plunged in inconsolable sadness. Curval's hatred was growing just as
certainly as was her poor belly; she had that night during the orgies
experienced the effects of his hostility, she had suffered everything but
blows, for Messieurs had agreed to leave the pear to ripen; she had, I say,
blows excepted, undergone every imaginable mistreatment; she though to
complain to Durcet and to her husband, the Duc: they both bade her go to
the devil and remarked that she must surely have been guilty of some fault
which was hidden from their eyes, yes, surely, else how could she thus ever
have displeased that most virtuous and most gentle of mortals; they wagged
their heads and walked away. And then they all went to bed.
THE ELEVENTH DAY
    They did not rise till late that day, and dispensing with all the usual
ceremonies, went directly to table once they had got up from their beds.
Coffee, served by Giton, Hyacinthe, Augustine, and Fanny, was largely
uneventful, although Durcet could not do without some farts from Augustine,
and the Duc thrust his brave instrument between Fanny's lips. Now, as from
the desire to what the desire causes 'tis ever but a single step with
personages such as our heroes, they went unswervingly toward satisfying
themselves; happily Augustine was prepared, she blew a steady breeze into
the little financier's mouth, and he came nigh to stiffening; as for Curval
and the Bishop, they confined themselves to fondling the two little boys'
behinds, and then our champions moved to the auditorium.
    One day little Eugenie, who was becoming more familiar with the rest of
us and whom six months in the whorehouse had only rendered all the
prettier, Eugenie, I say, one day accosted me and lifting her skirts, bade
me look at her ass. "Do you see, Duclos, how Fournier wants me to keep my
behind today?"
    An inch-thick patch of shit covered her sweet little asshole.
    "And why does she want you to wear that?" I asked her.
    "It's for the sake of an old gentleman who is coming this afternoon,"
she explained, "and he expects a beshitted ass."
    "Well, well," said I, "he'll be very pleased with you I'm sure, for
yours couldn't possibly be more thickly encrusted."
    And she told me that Fournier's was the hand that had smeared her thus.
Curious to witness the impending scene, I flew to the spy hole as soon as
dear little Eugenie was summoned. The principal actor was a monk, but one
of those monks we call gros bonnets, a Cistercian, tall, heavy, vigorous,
and nearing sixty. He caresses the child, kisses her upon the mouth, and
demanding to know whether she is neat and clean, he hoists her petticoats
personally to verify a constant state of cleanliness whereof Eugenie gives
him full assurance, although knowing nothing could be further from the
truth; but she had been instructed so to speak to him.
    "What's this, my little rascal?" exclaims the monk upon catching sight
of that formidable mess. "What? Do you dare tell me you are neat and tidy
when your ass is as filthy as this? Why, by the Virgin, I'm sure 'tis a
fortnight since this bum's been wiped. 'Tis very troubling indeed, for I
like things to be clean, I do, and it truly looks as if I had better look
into the situation."
    While speaking he had deposited Eugenie upon a bed, knelt behind her
buttocks, and begun to pry them apart with both his hands. One would have
thought that, at the outset, he purposed simply to observe the state of
affairs, which caused him great surprise, but little by little he becomes
accustomed to things as they are, sees here a virtue where he had seen only
a fault before, sticks out his tongue and moves his head closer, sets to
polishing the gem, the clods and spots he removes, the pristine object they
conceal inflames his senses, his prick gets up, his nose, mouth, and tongue
seem simultaneously to be at work, his ecstasy appears so delicious he is
all but deprived of the power to speak, his fuck finally mounts - he grasps
his prick, frigs it, and as he discharges, finishes cleaning that anus,
which is now so fresh and pure one would scarcely suppose it had been nasty
no more than a minute or two before.
    But the libertine was not yet ready to bring the affair to a
conclusion, this voluptuous mania of his constituted a mere preliminary; he
gets to his feet, bestows further kisses upon his little partner, exposes
to her view a great ass of very evil aspect and very unclean, and he orders
her to give it a thorough shaking, to socratize it; this brings his prick
up furiously again, he now returns to Eugenie's ass, overwhelms it with
renewed caresses, lickings, and so forth, but what he did after that it is
not for me to relate, nor would it properly figure in these introductory
narrations; you will, Messieurs, have the great kindness to allow Madame
Martaine to tell you of the behavior of a villain with whom she was only
too well acquainted; and in order to avoid all questions, my Lords, which
your own regulations forbid me to treat, or resolve, I continue on to
another episode.
    "Just one word, Duclos," said the Duc, who then queried the storyteller
in an indirect language which enabled her to make lawful reply. "Was it big
with the monk? Was this Eugenie's first time? . . ."
    "Yes, Sire, the first, and the monk's was about the size of yours."
    "Ah, fuck my eyes!" muttered Durcet; "a damned pretty demonstration,
I'd like to have seen that."
    You would perhaps have been equally curious, Duclos said as she picked
up the thread of her narrative, about the individual who, a few days later,
passed into my hands. Outfitted with a vessel containing eight or ten great
turds gathered from all quarters and whose authors he would have been very
distressed to have identified, I was with my own hands to rub him from head
to toe with this fragrant pomade. Not an inch on his body was neglected,
not even his face, and when I had massaged his prick, which I frigged at
the same time, the infamous pig, who all the while stared contentedly at
himself in a mirror, left evidence of his humble virility between my palms.
    And at last, gentlemen, we have arrived; I can now advise you that the
homage is about to be made in the veritable temple. I had been told to hold
myself in readiness, I kept my bowels closed for two long days. It was a
commander of the Order of the Knights of Malta with whom I was to break a
lance; he used to see a different girl every morning for these exercises;
the following scene transpired at his home.
    "Very fair buttocks," was his opinion as he embraced my behind.
"However, my child," he continued, "there's more to it than simply having a
comely ass, you know. That comely ass must know how to shit. Tell me, have
you the urge?"
    "Such an urge I'm dying to satisfy it, Monsieur," I confessed.
    "Well, by Jesus, that's delicious!" exclaimed the commander, "that's
what is called excellent service to society, but look here, my little duck,
would you like to shit in this chamber pot I'm offering you?"
    "In faith, Monsieur," I made answer, "what with the need I have to
shit, I'd do it anywhere, I'd even shit in your mouth."
    "No! In my mouth, you say? Why, bless me, that is delicious, and that's
precisely the place I myself had in mind for you," he added, setting the
pot aside.
    "Well, Monsieur, let's make haste, bring up your mouth," said I, "for
indeed I'll not be able to hold back much longer."
    He places himself on the couch, I climb astride him, while operating I
frig him, he supports my haunches with his hands and receives, piece by
piece, everything I deposit in his avid mouth. He is thrilled by it all,
nears his ecstasy, my wrist is hardly needed to bring forth the floods of
semen which salute my performance; I frig, conclude my shitting, our man
loses himself and his seed altogether, and I leave him delighted with me,
or at least so he has the kindness to say to Fournier, at the same time
requesting the services of another girl for the morrow.
    The personage who came next employed more or less the same approach to
the problem, but simply kept the morsels in his mouth for a longer period.
He reduced them to a fluid, rinsed his mouth with them for a quarter of an
hour, and spat out little more than dingy water.
    Yet another had, if that is possible, a still more bizarre
eccentricity; he liked to find four turds in the pot beneath a pierced
chair, but those four turds could not be mixed with so much as a single
drop of urine. He would be shut up alone in the room containing this
treasure, never did he allow a girl with him, and every precaution had to
be taken to insure his solitude, he could not bear the thought he might be
observed, and when at last he felt secure he went into action; but I am
absolutely unable to tell you what he did, for no one had ever seen him;
all that is known is that when he had left the room, the pot was discovered
perfectly empty and as tidy as can be. But what he did with his four turds
only the devil can tell you, if indeed he knows. He may perhaps have thrown
them away somewhere, but, then again, he could also have done something
else with them.
    However, what would lead one to suspect he did not do that something
else with them is that he left the procuring of those four turds entirely
up to Fournier, and never made the least inquiry about their origin. One
day, in order to observe whether what we were about to say would alarm him
- for his alarm might have provided us with a clue about the fate of those
turds - we told him that the ones he had been served that day had come from
several persons suffering from syphilis. He laughed good-naturedly with us,
was not in the slightest disturbed, which reaction was not to be expected
from someone who had employed rather than cast away the turds. When we
sought, upon one or two occasions, to push our questions a little further,
he bade us be silent, and never were we to learn more of the matter.
    That concludes what I have to tell you this evening, said Duclos;
tomorrow I propose to relate my new mode of life, or rather the new turn my
same mode of life took, when I met Monsieur d'Aucourt; and as for the
charming passion you so heavily favor, I hope to have the honor to
entertain you with examples of it for at least another two or three days.
    Opinions were divided about the fate of the turds in the episode Duclos
had just recounted, and while arguing and reasoning about them, Messieurs
had a few produced for themselves; and the Duc, eager to make everyone
aware of the taste he was developing for Duclos, exhibited to the entire
assembly his libertine manner to amuse himself with her, and the dexterity,
aptitude, and promptness, accompanied by the most stirring language,
wherewith she knew so artfully how to satisfy him.
    Supper and the orgies transpired without any unusual incident, nothing
of importance took place before the afternoon of the next day, and so we
may move directly to the recitations wherewith Duclos brightened the 12th
of November.




THE TWELFTH DAY
    The new mode of life I was about to begin, said Duclos, obliges me to
draw your attention, Messieurs, to my personal appearance and character at
the time; one is better able to figure the pleasures being described if one
is first acquainted with the object that procures them. I had just attained
my twenty-first year. My hair was brown, but nevertheless my skin was of a
most agreeable whiteness. The abundance of hair covering my head fell in
floating and perfectly authentic curls to just above my knees. I had the
eyes you behold me now to have, and they have always been judged lovely. My
figure was rather full although tall, supple, and gracious. With what
regards my behind, that part of the anatomy in which libertines today take
such a keen interest, it was by common consent superior to the most sublime
specimens one is likely ever to see, and there were few women in Paris who
had an ass as deliciously molded; it was full, round, very plump, and
exceedingly soft, generous, I say, but without its ampleness detracting
anything from its elegance, the least gesture immediately discovered that
heavenly little rosebud you so cherish, Messieurs, and which, I do indeed
like yourselves believe, is a woman's most magical attraction. Although I
had been for a long season active in libertinage, my ass could not have
been healthier or looked more untried; its splendid condition was in part
owing to the good constitution Nature had granted me and in part to the
extreme prudence I exercised on the battlefield, scrupulously avoiding
encounters capable of damaging my most precious asset. I had very little
love for men, I had never had but one attachment; I had a libertine maid,
but it was extraordinarily libertine, and after having described my charms
it is only fitting that I say a word or two about my vices. I love women,
Messieurs, I don't deny it. Not however to the uncommon degree my good
colleague, Madame Champville, loves them; she will probably tell you that
she has ruined herself for them; I have simply always preferred them to men
in my pleasures, and those they have procured me have always exerted a more
powerful sway over my senses than masculine delights. Apart from this
fault, I have had another of adoring to steal: I have refined this mania to
an unbelievable point. Entirely convinced that all possession should be
equally distributed in the world and that it is only strength and violence
which are opposed to this equality, foremost law of Nature, I have striven
to rectify the actual scheme and to do my utmost to re-establish the proper
balance. And had it not been for this accursed compulsion I might perhaps
still be with the benevolent mortal of whom I shall speak next.
    "You say you have done considerable stealing?" said Durcet.
    "An astonishing amount, Monsieur; had I not always spent what I
filched, I would be wealthy today."
    "But was there not more to it than that?" the financier pursued. "Some
aggravating detail, such as, for instance, forced entry, abuse of
confidence, manifest deceit?"
    "Everything under the sun," Duclos assured him. "I did not think it
worth dwelling on these matters which would also have disturbed the smooth
unfolding of my history, but since it is evident they might amuse you, in
future I'll not forget to cite my thefts.
    "As well as that fault, I have always been reproached for another: I am
said to have a hard heart, a very bad one indeed; but is that fault really
mine? or is it not rather from Nature we have our vices as well as our
perfections? and is there anything I can do to soften this heart she caused
to be insensible? I don't believe I have ever in all my life wept over my
troubles, and I can safely assure you I have never dropped a tear for the
afflictions of others; I loved my sister, and I lost her without the least
twinge of grief, you were witness to the stoic indifference with which I
greeted news of her undoing; I would, by God, see the universe perish
without a sniffle or a sigh."
    "That is how one must be," said the Duc, "compassion is a fool's
virtue. Close examination reveals that it is never anything but compassion
which costs us delights. But with that toughened heart of yours, you must
have committed crimes, for, you know, insensibility leads straight to
nothing else."
    "My Lord," Duclos replied, "the regulations prescribed for our
narrations prevent me from apprising you of a great many things; my
companions will supply what you have ordained I omit. I do have one word to
say, however: when later on they attempt to represent themselves to you as
villains, you may be perfectly sure I have never been any better than
they."
    "That, I should say, is doing justice to oneself," Blangis observed.
"Well, go on with your tales; we'll have to be content with what you tell
us, for we have ourselves set bounds to your discourses; but remember that
when we, you and I, have a little chat together, I'll insist upon hearing
of your various peccadillos."
    "And I shall conceal none of them from you, Sire. May it be that after
having heard me out you shall have no cause to repent of your indulgence
toward one of the King's worst subjects." Wherewith she lifted up her voice
and addressed the assembly again:
    Despite all these defects, and above all that of being thoroughly
unappreciative of the value of the humiliating sentiment of gratitude,
which I consider as naught but an injurious burden to humanity and one
which completely degrades the pride and self-respect implanted in us by
Nature, with all these deficiencies, I say, my companions were nevertheless
very fond of me, and of them all I was the most sought after by men.
    Such was my situation when a rich landowner named d'Aucourt came to
have a party at Fournier's; as he was one of her steadfast clients, but one
who preferred girls brought in from outside the house to those residing in
it, he was held in the highest esteem, and Madame, who felt I had
absolutely to make his acquaintance, gave me notice two days beforehand not
to waste an ounce of the precious matter for which he had a greater passion
than any of the other men I had met with until then; but from the details
you will be able to judge of all this for yourselves. D'Aucourt arrived,
and having eyed me up and down, he scolded Madame Fournier for having
waited so long to supply him with this pretty creature. I thanked him for
his gallantry, and up we went together. D'Aucourt was about fifty years of
age, heavy-set, fat, but his face was pleasant to see, there was animation
in his features, he was witty and, what pleased me most of all about him,
he had a gentleness and honesty of character which enchanted me from the
first moment.
    "You must have the world's loveliest ass," said he, drawing me to him
and burrowing his hand beneath my skirts. His hand went directly to my
behind. "I am a connoisseur, and girls of your figure and general look
almost invariably possess striking asses. Why, look here, didn't I tell you
so?" he continued, after briefly palpating the object, "how fresh and round
it is!"
    And nimbly turning me around as with one hand he lifted my skirts to my
waist and with the other fondled the article, he fell to work examining the
altar to which he addressed his prayers.
    "Jesus!" he cried, "by the Saviour, 'tis really one of the finest asses
I have clapped eyes on in all my days and, believe me, I have studied many.
. . . Spread . . . Great God, behold that strawberry! . . . allow me to
suck it . . . devour it . . . 'tis really a beautiful ass indeed, this one
. . . eh, tell me, dearie, have they given you the instructions?"
    "Yes, Monsieur."
    "They told you I have them shit?"
    "Yes, Monsieur."
    "But your health?" went on the capitalist, "there's nothing amiss?"
    "Never fear, good sir."
    "It's simply, d'ye see, that I carry things rather far," he went on,
"and if you have the least illness or symptom, then I run a great risk."
    "Sir," said I, "you can do absolutely anything you please, I guarantee
you I am as fit and sound and safe as a newborn babe; you may act in
confidence."
    After this preamble, d'Aucourt had me bend around toward him and, all
the while keeping my buttocks spread wide, and gluing his mouth to mine, he
sucked my saliva for fifteen minutes or so; he withdrew his mouth in order
to expectorate a little "fuck," and then returned to his amorous mouth
pumping.
    "Spit into my mouth, spit," he repeated, "from time to time, fill it
with saliva."
    And then I felt his tongue run over my gums, drive as far as possible
into my mouth, and I had the impression it was endeavoring to draw
everything out of me.
    "Excellent," said he, "I'm getting stiff. Let's go to work."
    Then he fell to contemplating my buttocks again, ordering me to
encourage the rise of his prick. I pulled out a strange little engine three
inches thick and only five long; it was as hard as a cobblestone and full
of fire.
    "Remove your skirts," d'Aucourt told me, "while I take off my breeches;
your buttocks and mine too have to be thoroughly at their ease for the
ceremony we are about to execute."
    Then, once I had obeyed him:
    "Lift your blouse further up, that's it, close to your corset," he
continued, "and see to it your behind is absolutely disencumbered. . . .
Lie on your stomach upon the bed."
    He fetched up a chair and seated himself by the bed, then returned to
caressing my bum, the mere sight of which appeared to intoxicate him; he
spread my buttocks for a moment and I felt his tongue sound deep into my
entrails, this, said he, in order beyond any shadow of equivocation to
verify whether indeed the hen were inclined to lay; I report his own
expressions to you. All this while, I was not touching him, not at that
stage, he was himself lightly stroking the dry little member I had just
brought from its lair.
    "Are you ready, my child?" he asked. "For it is high time we undertake
our task; your shit seems to me as it should be, I've established that,
remember to shit gradually, a little at a time, and always wait until I
have consumed one morsel before pushing out the next. My operation takes
quite a while, so don't be in haste. A light slap on your ass will notify
you that I'm ready for more, but see to it that I get no more than a bite."
    Having then adopted the most comfortable position, he glued his mouth
to the object of his worship, and in less time than it takes to tell I
delivered a gobbet of shit the size of a pigeon's egg. He sucked it, turned
it a thousand times about in his mouth, chewed it, savored it, at the end
of three or four minutes I distinctly saw him swallow it; I push again, the
same ceremony is repeated, and as I had a prodigious charge to be rid of,
ten times over he filled his mouth and emptied it, and even after all was
done he seemed famished still.
    "That is all, Monsieur," I said when I had finished, "I'm pushing in
vain now."
    "It's all over, is it, my little dear? Why, then I believe I'll
discharge, yes, discharge while paying my respects to this superb ass. Oh,
Great God, what pleasure you give me! I've never eaten more delicious shit,
I'd swear to that before any jury. Give it to me, bring it hither, hither,
my angel, bring me your matchless ass to suck, let me devour it."
    And thrusting what seemed to be twelve inches of tongue through my anus
and while doing so manualizing himself, the libertine spatters his fuck
over my legs, not without uttering a host of obscene words and oaths
necessary, apparently, to the crowning of his ecstasy.
    When at last it was all over, he sat down, invited me to sit beside him
and, regarding me with great interest, asked whether I were not tired of
the life of the brothel and if I should not be pleased to come across
someone who would extricate me from it; seeing he had taken a fancy to me,
I began to demur, and to spare you a long story which could not possibly be
of any interest to you, after an hour of debating I let myself be won over,
and it was decided that on the following day I would take up quarters in
his home in return for twenty louis per month and board; that as he was a
widower, I could conveniently occupy a large apartment in his town house;
that I would have a maid to wait upon me and the society of three of his
friends and their mistresses with whom he got together for libertine
suppers four times each week, sometimes at his own establishment, sometimes
at one of theirs; that my one obligation, and occupation, would be to eat a
great deal, and always the fare he had served to me, because, doing what he
did, it were essential I be fed on a diet which accorded with his taste -
to eat a great deal, I say, to sleep long and soundly in order that my
digestion be good and thorough, to purge myself regularly once a month, and
to shit in his mouth twice every day; that this rate of shit consumption,
or rather of shit production, ought not to frighten me because, by stuffing
me with food, as he planned to do, I would perhaps hear the call not twice
but three times a day. The capitalist presented me with a very pretty
diamond in token of his eagerness to conclude the bargain; then he embraced
me, told me to settle my affairs with Fournier and to be ready the
following morning, at which time he would come to fetch me himself. My
farewells were quickly said; my heart regretted nothing, for it knew
nothing of the art of forming attachments, but my pleasures regretted the
loss of Eugenie, with whom for six months I had enjoyed an exceedingly
intimate liaison; I left. D'Aucourt received me with wonderful graciousness
and himself took me to the very pretty suite which was to be my new
habitation; I was soon fully installed. I was expected, indeed condemned,
to eat four meals whence were excluded a great number of things I should
have adored having: I had to go without fish, oysters, salted meat, eggs,
and every kind of dairy product; but on the other hand I was so well
recompensed that in truth I had no real grounds for complaint. The basis of
an ordinary repast consisted of an immense quantity of breast of chicken,
of boned fowl prepared and presented in every imaginable fashion, little
beef or other red meat, nothing that contained grease, very little bread or
fruit. I had to eat these foods even for breakfast in the morning and, in
the afternoon, at tea; at these hours, they were served me without bread,
and d'Aucourt gradually induced me entirely to abstain from bread; ever
since then I've not eaten it at all, and I've also given up heavy soups.
The result of this diet, as my lover had calculated, was two bowel
movements per day, and the stools were very soft, very sweet, somewhat
small but, so d'Aucourt maintained, of an exquisite taste which could not
be obtained by ordinary nourishment; and d'Aucourt was a man whose opinion
deserved to be accorded some weight, for he was a connoisseur. Our
operations were performed when he awoke and when he retired for the night.
Their details were more or less what I have already given you: he would
always begin with a prolonged sucking of my mouth, which I had always to
present him in its natural state, that is to say, unwashed: I was only
allowed to rinse it out afterward. He would not, furthermore, discharge
every time he dined, our arrangements did not in any way bind him to
fidelity. D'Aucourt kept me as the pièce de resistance, I was the roast
beef, as it were, but that did not prevent him from sallying forth every
morning for a nibble of lunch somewhere else.
    Two days after I had arrived, his comrades in debauch came for an
evening at his home, and as each of the three boasted, in the taste we are
presently analyzing, a superficially different although fundamentally
identical passion, by your leave, Messieurs, every little example adding to
our collection, I shall devote a few words to the fantasies in which they
indulged themselves.
    The guests arrived. The first was an elderly parliamentarian, in his
sixties, and named d'Erville; his mistress was a woman of forty,
exceedingly handsome, and having no visible defect other than certain
excess of flesh: her name was Madame du Cange. The second was a retired
military officer of between forty-five and fifty, he was called Desprès,
his mistress was an attractive young person of twenty-six, blond, and
having as lovely a body as you may hope to find: her name was Marianne. The
third was an abbot, sixty years old, Du Coudrais by name; his mistress was
a lad of sixteen, pretty as a star, whom the good ecclesiastic passed off
as his nephew.
    The table was laid in that part of the house near my chambers; the meal
was festive, the fare delicate, and I remarked that the young lady and the
youth were on a diet very similar to mine. Characters declared themselves
while we dined; it was impossible to be more a libertine than d'Erville;
his eyes, his speech, his gestures, everything about him proclaimed
debauchery, libertinage was painted in his every line; there was more of
the restrained, the deliberate in Desprès, but lust was none the less the
soul of his existence; as for the abbot, he was the world's most arrant,
boldest atheist: blasphemies flew from his lips with virtually every word
he pronounced; with regard to the ladies, they emulated their lovers,
tattled and chattered a blue streak but in a rather agreeable tone; the
young boy struck me as being as great a fool as he was a pretty one, and du
Cange, who seemed smitten by him, cast a series of tender glances toward
him, every one of which he failed even to notice.
    All propriety had vanished by the time dessert arrived, and the
conversation had become as filthy as the goings on: d'Erville congratulated
d'Aucourt upon his latest acquisition and begged to know whether my ass had
any merit, and if I shitted pleasantly.
    "Oh, by God," my capitalist replied with a smile, "you've only to
establish the facts for yourself; we hold our goods in common, you know,
and lend one another our mistresses quite as willingly as we do our
purses."
    "Why," d'Erville murmured, "I believe I will have a peek."
    Taking me by the hand at once, he proposed that we repair to a closet
together. As I was hesitating, du Cange raised her brows and said in a rude
voice:
    "Be off with you, Mademoiselle, we don't stand on ceremony here. I'll
look after your lover while you're away."
    And d'Aucourt, whose eyes I consulted, having made a sign of
approbation, I followed the old legislator. 'Tis he, Messieurs, and the
other two as well, who are going to offer you the three demonstrations of
the taste we are currently studying and which should compose the better
part of today's narrations.
    As soon as I was closeted with d'Erville, he, very much warmed by the
drink he had imbibed, kissed me upon the mouth with extreme enthusiasm, and
in so doing belched a few hiccups into my mouth, which nearly made me eject
from that orifice what, a few minutes later, he seemed to have the most
pressing desire to see emerge from another. He lifted my skirts, examined
my behind with all the lubricity of a consummate libertine, then informed
me he was not at all surprised at d'Aucourt's choice, for indeed, said he,
I had one of the most beautiful asses in Paris. He besought me to commence
with a few farts, and after he had absorbed a half dozen of them, he
returned to kissing my mouth, the while fondling me and vigorously
spreading my buttocks.
    "Are you beginning to feel the need?" he asked.
    "I feel little else," I replied.
    "Very well, my pretty child, be so good as to shit upon this dish."
    He had brought with him one of white porcelain, he held it while I
pushed, and scrupulously examined the turd as it emerged from my behind, a
delicious spectacle which, so he maintained, intoxicated him with pleasure.
When I had finished, he picked up the plate, ecstatically inhaled the
voluptuous product it contained, handled, kissed, sniffed the turd, then
telling me he could bear it no longer, and that it was now lust wherewith
he was drunk thanks to this, the most sublime piece of shit he had ever
seen, he bade me suck his prick; although there was nothing in any way
agreeable about this operation, fear of angering d'Aucourt by not co-
operating with his friend induced me to accede to everything. He settled
himself in an armchair, or rather sprawled sideways in it, having deposited
the plate on a neighboring table upon which he also rested half his body,
his nose buried in the shit; he extended his legs, and I, having drawn up a
low chair and having pulled from his fly a mere suspicion of a very soft
prick instead of a real member, despite my repugnance I fell to sucking
this miserable relic, hoping that a mouthing would give it at least a
little consistency. It did not: once I had taken the wretched object into
my mouth, the libertine started his operation and thrust into his the
pretty little egg, all bright and new, which I had just laid for him; he
did not eat it, he battened upon it: the game lasted three minutes, during
which his squirmings, shudderings, contortions, declared a very ardent and
a very expressive delight. But it was all in vain, not a trace of solidity
appeared in that ugly little stub of a tool which, after having wept tears
of chagrin into my mouth, withdrew itself more ashamed than ever and left
its master in that prostration, in that abandon, in that exhaustion which
is the certain consequence of a potent draught of pleasure.
    "Ah," said the parliamentarian, "I forswear my faith; never have I seen
anyone shit like that."
    Upon returning to the dining room we found only the abbot and his
nephew, and as they were operating, I can give you the essential
particulars at once. Whereas the others exchanged mistresses in this little
society, nothing could induce Du Coudrais to do so: always content with
what he had, he never accepted a substitute for it; he would not have been
able, I was informed, to amuse himself with a woman; but in every other
respect, he and d'Aucourt were alike. He went about his ceremony in the
same way, what was more, and when we entered the room the youngster was
lying belly down upon the edge of a divan, presenting his ass to his dear
uncle who, kneeling down before it, was lovingly receiving into his mouth
and steadily consuming all the lad was producing, the while frigging an
exceedingly small prick we observed dangling between his thighs. The abbot
discharged, our presence notwithstanding, and swore that the boy was
shitting better with every day that passed.
    Marianne and d'Aucourt, who were amusing themselves together, soon
reappeared and were followed by Desprès and du Cange who, they said, had
only been cuddling and volleying while waiting for me.
    "Because," said Desprès, "she and I are old acquaintances, whereas you,
my lovely queen, you whom I see for the first time, inspire in me the most
ardent desire for a more thorough amusement."
    "But," I objected, "Monsieur d'Erville has taken it all; I have nothing
more to offer you."
    "Why indeed!" he said with a merry laugh, "indeed, I ask nothing from
you, I'll furnish all that is needed. I merely require your fingers."
    Curious to learn the meaning of this enigma, I accompany him, and as
soon as we are alone together, he asks to kiss my ass for a brief minute. I
raise it toward him and after two or three licks and sucks at the hole, he
unbuttons his breeches and bids me do unto him what he has just done in my
behalf. His posture excited my suspicions: he was seated facing the back of
a chair, by clinging to which he kept his balance, and beneath him was a
pot waiting to be filled; and so, observing he was ready to perform all by
himself, I asked why it were necessary for me to kiss his ass.
    "Nothing could be more necessary, my heart," he replied; "for my ass,
in all of France the most capricious of asses, never shits save when
kissed."
    I obeyed, but took care to stay clear of danger; perceiving my cautious
maneuvering:
    "Closer, for God's sake, get closer, sweetie," he said in an imperious
tone. "Are you afraid of a little shit?"
    And so at last, in order to be friendly, I brought my lips to the
vicinity of the hole; but he no sooner felt them there than he tripped the
spring, the eruption was so violent one of my cheeks was splashed from
temple to chin. He needed but one shot to submerge the plate; never in my
life had I seen such a turd: all by itself it would easily have filled a
very deep salad bowl. Our man snatches it up, takes it with him, and lies
down on the edge of the bed, presents his entirely beshitted ass, and
orders me to play with it while he feasts upon what has just darted out of
his entrails. Filthy as his bum was, I had to obey. "His mistress doubtless
does as much," I said to myself; "I must be as obliging as she." I plunge
three fingers into the murky aperture pleading for my attentions; our man
is beside himself with joy, he falls upon his own excrements, daubs his
face with them, wallows in them, feeds upon them, one of his hands holds
the plate, the other jostles his prick rising up majestically between his
thighs; I redouble my efforts, they are not in vain, I feel his anus
contract around my fingers, this reports that his erector muscles are about
to launch the seed, the prospect delights me, the plate is licked clean,
and my partner discharges.
    Once again back in the salon, I find my inconstant d'Aucourt with the
lovely Marianne; the rascal had also made use of her. The only one who
remained was the page boy, with whom, I believe, he might also have come to
terms had the jealous abbot only consented to relinquish him for half an
hour. When everyone had returned, they all spoke of removing their clothes
and of performing a few extravagances in front of each other. The idea
struck me as excellent, for it would enable me to see Marianne's body,
which I had the greatest desire to examine; it proved delicious, firm,
fair, splendidly proportioned, and her ass, which I fondled several times
in a joking manner, seemed to me a veritable masterpiece.
    "What do you want with such a pretty girl?" I asked Desprès. "For the
pleasure you appear to cherish places no emphasis upon looks."
    "Ah," said he, "you don't know all my mysterious little ways."
    I was absolutely unable to learn more about them, and although I lived
for more than a year with d'Aucourt, and was present at every get-together,
neither Desprès nor Marianne wished to clarify anything to me, and I
remained in entire ignorance of their secret intelligences which, of
whatever kind they may have been, did not prevent the taste her lover used
to satisfy with me from being an authentic and distinct passion worthy in
every respect of inclusion in our anthology. Whatever he did with Marianne,
I supposed, must have been merely episodic and either has been or certainly
will be related at some one of our sessions.
    After some rather indecent libertine stunts, some farts, yet a few more
little turds or turdlets, we had considerable talk and sounding impieties
on the part of the abbot, who seemed to locate one of his most perfect
lecheries in ungodly conduct and discourse; after all this, everyone put on
his clothes again and went off to bed. The next morning, as usual, I
appeared in d'Aucourt's room as he was preparing to arise, and neither of
us reprimanded the other for our little infidelities of the evening before.
He said that, with the exception of myself, he knew of no girl who shitted
better than did Marianne; I put several questions to him, asking what she
did with a lover who was so admirably self-sufficient, and d'Aucourt
replied that all this was a secret between the two of them and they had
never seemed willing to disclose it. And we, my own lover and I, went on
with our usual little tricks.
    I was not as confined at d'Aucourt's house as I had been before; I
sometimes ventured abroad; he had complete faith, he told me, in my
honesty, I could very well see what danger I would be exposing him to were
I to impair my health, and he left me to my own devices. With what regarded
the health in which, most selfishly, he took such a keen interest, I did
nothing to betray his trust, but as for the rest, I considered myself free
to do just about everything that would earn me any money. And so, being
repeatedly solicited by Fournier who was eager to arrange parties for me at
her establishment, I lent my talents to every project wherefrom I was
assured an honorable profit. I was no longer one of her crew, I was a young
lady kept by a farmer-general; would I have the great kindness to give
Madame Fournier an hour of my valuable time and pass at her establishment
on such and such a day, etc., etc. You may fancy how well that paid. It was
in the course of these brief distractions that I encountered the new shit
worshiper I'll discuss next.
    "Just one instant," put in the Bishop. "I did not want to interrupt you
until you reached the end of a chapter; you seem to be at one now. Would
you therefore have the kindness to shed some additional light upon two or
three essential points in this latest party? When you celebrated the orgies
after your interview with Desprès, did the abbot, who until then had been
caressing his bardash only, commit acts of infidelity? In a word, did he
lay hands upon you? did the others desert their women for the boy?"
    "Monseigneur," said Duclos, "the abbot never once left his little boy;
he scarcely so much as glanced at us even though we were naked and all but
on top of him. But he toyed with d'Aucourt's ass and Desprès' and also
d'Erville's: he kissed them, sucked them, d'Aucourt and d'Erville shitted
into his mouth and he swallowed the better part of each of those two turds.
But he would not touch the women. The same was not true of the three other
friends relative to his youthful bardash; they kissed him, licked his
asshole, and Desprès went off alone with him for I have no idea what
exercise."
    "Excellent," said the Bishop. "You observe that you failed to mention
everything, and that what you have just recounted forms still another
passion, since it figures the taste of a man who has other men shit in his
mouth, and quite mature men at that."
    "That is true, Monseigneur," Duclos admitted, "I confess my error but
am not sorry for it, because the soiree has drawn to a close and has indeed
been overlong. The bell we are about to hear struck would have indicated
that I did not have sufficient time to end the story I was preparing to
begin, and with your gracious leave we will postpone it until tomorrow."
    The bell did indeed ring and as no one had discharged during the
sitting and as every prick was, however, mightily aloft, they only betook
themselves to supper after promising to make good their loss at the orgies.
But the impetuous Duc was never able to postpone important business and
having ordered Sophie to present her buttocks, he had that lovely child
shit, and he swallowed her turd for dessert. Durcet, the Bishop, and
Curval, all similarly occupied, concluded the same operation, the first
with Hyacinthe, the second with Celadon, the third with Adonis. The last
named, having failed to give ample satisfaction, was inscribed in the
punishment book, and Curval, swearing like a trooper, revenged himself upon
Therèse's ass, which exploded, at point-blank range, the most ponderous
turd imaginable. The orgies were eminently libertine and Durcet, forsaking
youthful turds, said that for the evening's games he would have none but
what his three old friends could yield him. They humored him with passing
fair performances, and the little libertine discharged like a stallion
while devouring Curval's shit. Night came at last to restore some measure
of calm to so much intemperance, and to restore as well our libertines'
desires and faculties.




THE THIRTEENTH DAY
    The President, who that night lay with Adelaide, his daughter, having
sported with her until he felt asleep about to claim him, had therewith
relegated her to the pallet beside his bed in order that Fanchon might have
her place, for he was ever eager to have the old duenna by his side when
lust awoke him, which occurred almost every night; toward three in the
morning, he opened his eyes with a start and fell to swearing and
blaspheming like the true rascal he was. He would at such times be gripped
by a lubric furor which now and again became dangerous. That is why he was
so fond of having that trusty old Fanchon near him, for no one was so
skillful at calming him, whether by offering herself or by immediately
bringing him one of the objects lying in his bedchamber.
    On that particular night, the President, instantly recollecting some
infamies he had perpetrated upon his daughter just before falling asleep,
called for her at once with the intention of repeating them; but she was
not there. Imagine the consternation and the commotion created by such an
incident. Curval springs from bed in a towering rage, asks where his
daughter is; candles are lit, everyone hunts about, the place is ransacked,
nothing's to be found; the last place searched is the girls' apartments.
Every bed is examined, and at last the interesting Adelaide is discovered
seated in her nightgown near Sophie's cot. Those two charming girls, united
by their similarly tender natures, their piety, virtuous sentiments,
candor, and absolutely identical amenity, had been seized by the most
beautiful affection for each other and they were exchanging comforting
words, consoling one another for the dreadful fate that had been reserved
for them. No one had perceived their commerce until then, but what followed
proved that this was not the first time they had got together, and it was
discovered as well that the elder of the was cultivating the other's finer
sentiments, and had especially pleaded with her not to stray from her
religion and her duties toward God, Who would one day comfort and console
them for all their woes.
    I leave it to the reader to picture Curval's fury and stormy reaction
when he located the lovely missionary; he seized her by the hair and,
overwhelming her with invectives, all very harsh, dragged her to his
chamber, where he tied her to his bedpost and left her until the next
morning to ponder over her indiscretion. All of the friends having rushed
to the scene, it will also be readily imagined with what haste and decision
Curval had the two delinquents' names written down in the register. The Duc
argued passionately in favor of instantaneous correction, and what he
proposed was not by any means mild; but the Bishop having countered with a
very reasonable objection to what his brother was urged to do, Durcet was
content simply to include them on the agenda. There was no way of attacking
the duennas; they were all four bedded in Messieurs' chambers that night.
This fact accounted for the imperfect administration of the household, and
arrangements were made whereby, in future, there would always be at least
one duenna in the girls' quarters and another in the boys'. Their lordships
retired to bed again, and Curval, whom anger had rendered more than cruelly
impudicious, did things to his daughter we cannot yet describe, but which,
by precipitating his discharge, at least put him quietly to sleep.
    All the hens in the chicken coop had been so terrified that, on the
morrow, no misbehavior was discovered, and amongst the boys, only Narcisse,
whom, the evening before, Curval had forbidden to wipe his ass, wishing to
have it nicely beshitted at coffee, which this child was scheduled to
serve, and who had unfortunately forgot his instructions, only Narcisse, I
say, had cleaned his anus and he had done so with extreme care. It was in
vain the little chap explained that his mistake could be repaired, since,
said he, he wanted to shit there and then; he was told to keep what he had,
and that he would be none the less inscribed in the fatal book; which
inscriptions the redoubtable Durcet instantly performed before his eyes,
thus to make him sense all the enormity of his fault, a veritable sin and
possibly by itself capable of upsetting or, who knows? of preventing
Monsieur le President's discharge.
    Constance, whom they did not hinder because of her state, Desgranges,
and Bum-Cleaver were the only ones who were granted chapel permission;
everyone else received the order not to draw the cork until the evening
toasts.
    The preceding night's events provided the dinner's conversation; they
made game of the President for permitting the bird to fly from its cage,
etc.; some champagne restored his gay spirits, and the company sallied
forth to coffee. Narcisse, Celadon, and Zelmire distributed it, so did
Sophie, who was greatly ashamed of herself; she was asked how often the
thing had happened, she replied that it had occurred only twice, and that
Madame de Durcet gave her such good counsel that indeed she thought it most
unjust to punish them both for it. The President assured her that what she
called good counsel was, in her situation, the very worst, that the
devotion wherewith Madame de Durcet had been filling her head would serve
no purpose save to get her punished every day, and that, in her present
circumstances, she was to have no masters and no gods save his three
confreres and himself, no religion save that of blindly serving and obeying
them in everything. And, all the while he was delivering this sermon, he
had her kneel between his legs and bade her suck his prick, which the poor
little thing did all atremble. As always partisan to thigh-fuckery, the
Duc, obliged as he was to abstain from the capital practice, impaled
Zelmire in this style, meanwhile having the little girl shit in his cupped
hand and gobbling it up as quickly as it was received, and all that while
Durcet was inducing Celadon to discharge into his mouth, and the Bishop was
industriously extracting a turd from Narcisse. A few minutes, no more, were
set aside for the nap that they found such an aid to digestion; then,
having taken up their posts in the auditorium, Duclos faced the gathering
and began the day's narrative.
    The gallant octogenarian Fournier had in mind for me, Messieurs, was an
official from the auditing bureau, short, pudgy, and with an extremely
unpleasant face. He set a pot between us, we squatted down back to back and
shitted simultaneously; he seizes up the pot, with his fingers stirs the
two turds, mixes them, swallows the batter while I promote his discharge,
an eruption which takes place in my mouth. He barely even glanced at my
behind. Nor did he do any kissing, but his ecstasy was very sharp and
compelling all the same: he pranced all about the room, swearing while he
gulped and ejaculated, and then took himself off, giving me four louis for
this strange ceremony.
    However, my landowner became more fond of me with each passing day, and
more trusting too, and this trust, which I lost no time in abusing, soon
became the cause of our eternal separation. . . . One day when he had left
me alone in his library, I noticed that, before going out for the day, he
had filled his purse with money taken from a deep drawer entirely filled
with gold. "Ah, what a capture!" I said to myself, and having from that
very instant conceived the idea of making off with this sum, I set to
watching for the means and opportunity whereby to appropriate it: d'Aucourt
never locked the drawer, but he carried with him the key to his library,
and having discovered that this door and lock were both very frail, I
fancied it would take little effort to break the one and the other. Having
adopted the plan, I concentrated upon nothing but taking advantage of the
first time d'Aucourt was absent the entire day; that used to be the case
twice a week, when he went off for private bacchanals in the company of
Desprès and the abbot; Madame Desgranges will perhaps describe what
occurred during these outings, they lie beyond my province. The favorable
moment was soon at hand; d'Aucourt's valets, as libertine as their master,
never failed to go with him to these parties, and so I found myself almost
alone in the house. Full of impatience to put my project into execution, I
go straightway to the door of the library, break the thin panel with a blow
of my fist, rush to the drawer, find it unlocked as I knew it would be. I
remove everything it contains; my prize amounts to not less than three
thousand louis. I fill my pockets, rifle other drawers; a splendid jewel
case catches my eye, I pick it up, but what was I not to find in the other
drawers of that bountiful secretary! . . . Fortunate d'Aucourt! What great
good luck for you that your imprudence was not discovered by anyone else
but me; the secretary contained enought to have had him broken on the
wheel, Messieurs, that is all I can tell you. Quite apart from the
transparent and expressive notes addressed to him by Desprès and the abbot
pertaining to their secret commerce, there was every kind of furniture
needed for the performing of those infamies. . . . But I halt myself here;
the boundaries you have prescribed to my depositions prevent me from saying
more; Desgranges will treat the whole matter. As for myself, the theft once
effected, I left at once, shuddering to think of all the dangers I had
perhaps been exposing myself to by frequenting the company of such
scoundrels. I crossed over to London and, as my sojourn in that city, where
for six months I dwelt in the most comfortable style, offers nothing that
could be of any outstanding interest to your Lordships, you will permit me
to pass quickly over this part of my story. I had maintained contact with
no one in Paris but Fournier; however, she advised me of the hue and cry
the landowner had raised over this paltry little robbery, and I finally
resolved to put an end to this blathering: I took up pen and paper and very
coolly informed him that she who had happened upon his money had also
discovered other things, and that if he were determined to continue to
search for the culprit, I would as bravely as possible endure my fate and
very certainly depose, with the same judge who would question me upon what
I had done with the contents of the small drawers, a detailed statement of
what I had found in the larger ones. Our man fell as silent as a tomb; and
as six months later their three-partied debauchery came broadly to light
and as they themselves left France for security abroad, I returned to Paris
and, must I avow my misbehavior? I returned, Messieurs, as poor as I had
been before dispossessing d'Aucourt, and such were my straits I was obliged
to put myself back in Madame Fournier's safekeeping. As I was no more than
twenty-three at the time, I did not want for adventures; I am going to
ignore those exterior to my domain and recount, with your Lordships'
indulgent permission, only the ones wherein I know now that you take some
interest.
    A week after my return, a barrel brimming with shit was placed in the
chamber appointed for pleasures. My Adonis arrives; he proves to be a
saintly ecclesiastic, but one so habituated to those pleasures, so blase,
that he was no longer capable of being stirred save by the excesses I shall
describe. I was naked when he entered. For a moment he regards my buttocks,
then, after having fingered them rather brutally, he tells me to undress
him and help him get into the barrel. I remove his garments, aid him to
climb in, the old pig slides down into his element; a hole has been
specially bored for the purpose and, fifteen seconds after having immersed
himself, his prick, almost stiff, pops through the aperture; he orders me
to frig it, covered as it is with filth and horrors. I do as I am told, he
ducks his head down into the shit, splashes in shit, swallows shit, shouts,
discharges, and, clambering out, trots off to immerse himself in a bath,
where I leave him in the hands of two house servants who spend a quarter of
an hour scrubbing him clean.
    Another one appeared shortly afterward. I had shitted and pissed into a
pot a week before and had carefully preserved the mixture; this period was
necessary before matters reached the stage our latest libertine desired. He
was a man of thirty-five, and my guess was that he was connected with
finance. Upon entering he asked where the pot was; I handed it to him, he
sniffed it experimentally.
    "You're perfectly certain that was done a week ago?" he asked.
    "Monsieur," I replied, "I am prepared to answer for its age; you will
notice the first signs of mildew there, some moldiness near the edge."
    "Why, indeed, it looks as if it will do very nicely," he agreed, "it's
the mold I adore, you know. Never too moldy to suit me. Show me, if you
please," he continued, "the pretty ass that shitted what we have here."
    I presented it.
    "That's it," said he, "put it right there opposite me so that I can see
it while eating its creation."
    We arrange ourselves, he samples a little tidbit, is thrilled by the
taste, plunges directly ahead, and in no time has devoured that exquisite
lunch, only interrupting his chewing to scan my bum; but there was no other
episode, he did not even draw his prick from his breeches.
    A month passed, another unusual fellow came to our door, and this one
would deal with none but Fournier herself. What an object he selected,
Great God! she had been sixty-eight summers, an erysipelas was eating every
inch of her hide, and the eight rotten teeth decorating her mouth
communicated so fetid an odor it was all but impossible to speak with her
at a distance of under five yards; but it was these shortcomings and
nothing else that enchanted the lover with whom she was to take a tumble.
Most eager to observe the contest, I run to the spy hole: the Adonis was an
elderly doctor, but younger nevertheless than she. He takes her in his
arms, kisses her mouth for a good fifteen minutes, then, having her present
an ancient, wrinkled ass such as you see on a very old cow, he kisses and
sucks it avidly. A syringe is brought in, three half bottles of liqueur
too; Aesculapius' worshiper loads his syringe and pumps the healing drink
into the entrails of his Iris; she receives the potion, holds it, the
doctor does not cease kissing her, he licks every square of her body.
    "Ah, my friend," the old lady cries at last, "I can contain myself no
longer, not another second, prepare yourself, dear friend, I'm going to
have to give it back."
    Salerno's scholar kneels, from his fly pulls forth a dark, wrinkled
stub of a device, which he pounds and coaxes with emphasis, Fournier
settles her great ugly ass upon his mouth, pushes, the doctor imbibes, a
turd or two doubtless emerge with the liquid, he gasps but it all goes
down, the libertine discharges and falls backward, dead drunk. 'Twas thus
this debauchee satisfied two passions at a single stroke: his wine bibbery
and his lewdness.
    "One moment," said Durcet. "Those excesses always give me an erection.
Desgranges," he pursued, "I fancy you possess an ass closely resembling the
one Duclos has just figured; come apply it to my face."
    The old procuress obeyed.
    "Let it go, release it," Durcet said in a muffled voice, for he was
speaking from between that pair of awe-inspiring buttocks. "Give it to me,
buggress, never mind if it's not liquid, I am perfectly able to chew, and I
always swallow whatever comes my way."
    And the operation was concluded while the Bishop was performing a
similar one with Antinoüs, Curval with Fanchon, and the Duc with Louison.
But our four athletes, fully acquainted with all these extravagances and
totally at their ease while committing them, performed with absolute
effortlessness and even nonchalance: the four deposits were consumed
without a single drop of fuck being shed in any quarter.
    "Well, on with your story, Duclos, finish up for the day," the Duc
said; "if we are no more tranquil than before, we are at least less
impatient and better able to pay attention."
    "Alas, Messieurs," our heroine answered, "I fear that the anecdote I
have still to relate this evening is far too simple, too mild for the state
you are in. 'Tis a pity, but no matter; its turn has come, it must keep its
place." And she continued as follows:
    The hero of the adventure was an old brigadier in the King's army; he
had to be stripped to the skin, then swaddled like an infant; when he was
thus prepared, I had to shit while he looked on, bring him the plate and,
with the tips of my fingers, feed him my turd as if it were pap. Everything
is done according to prescription, our libertine swallows it all and
discharges in his swaddling clothes, the while simulating a baby's cry.
    "Let us then have recourse to children," said the Duc, "since you leave
us with a children's story; Fanny, my dear," he continued, "come to your
old friend and shit in his mouth, and remember to suck his prick while you
are about it, for it seems to have to discharge again."
    "Let thy will be done," murmured the Bishop. "Come hither, Rosette; you
have heard the orders given to Fanny. Then do as she."
    "May the same orders apply to you," Durcet said to Hebe, who responded
to his call.
    "When in Rome," said the wise Curval, "do as the Romans do, my little
one. Augustine, emulate your companions, cause simultaneously to flow both
my fuck into your mouth and your shit into mine."
    And all these things were done; upon this occasion, all those worthies
came; from everywhere the sounds of farting and falling shit were to be
heard, discharges too, and, much lust sated, they betook themselves to the
table, their appetite was passing strong. But at the orgies, refinements
were employed, the little ones were sent off to bed. Those delicious hours
were spent with none but the elite fuckers, the four ladies-in-waiting, the
four storytellers. Messieurs became completely drunk and performed horrors
of such absolute filthiness that I should not be able to describe them
without doing an injustice to the less libertine tableaux I have yet to
offer my readers. Curval and Durcet were carried away unconscious, but the
Duc and the Bishop, quite as cool as if nothing had happened, were
perfectly able to pass the rest of the night indulging in their ordinary
riot.




THE FOURTEENTH DAY
    It was discovered upon that day that the weather had lent its approval
to our libertines' infamous enterprises, and had removed them to an even
greater distance from the probability they would be spied upon by mortal
eyes; an immense blanket of snow had fallen, it filled the surrounding
vale, seeming to forbid even to wild beasts access to our scoundrels'
retreat; of all human beings, there was not one that existed who could dare
hope to reach where they lay fast. Ah, it is not readily to be imagined how
much voluptuousness, lust, fierce joy are flattered by those sureties, or
what is meant when one is able to say to oneself: "I am alone here, I am at
the world's end, withheld from every gaze, here no one can reach me, there
is no creature that can come nigh where I am; no limits, hence, no
barriers; I am free." Whereupon, thus situate, desires spring forth with an
impetuosity which knows no bounds, stops at nothing, and the impunity that
electrifies them most deliciously increases all their drunkenness. There,
nothing exists save God and one's conscience; well, what weight may the
former exert, of what account may God be in the eyes of an atheist in heart
and brain? and what sway is the conscience to enjoy, what influence upon
him who is so accustomed to vanquishing remorse, routing guilt, that so to
do becomes for him a game, nay, a little pleasure? Luckless flock delivered
to the murderous tooth of such villains; how would you have trembled had
you not still been in ignorance of what lay in store for you!
    That day was a festival, the second week had ended, the second marriage
was to be celebrated; Messieurs were in a glad humor and thought not but to
frolic on that holiday. The marriage to take place was that of Narcisse and
Hebe, but, cruel fate it was also decreed that the bride and groom were
both doomed to be punished that same evening; and thus, from the warm
embrace of hymeneal pleasures they were to move directly to the more bitter
lessons taught in this school, how unkind! Little Narcisse, who was not a
dull fellow, remarked this irony, but Messieurs none the less proceeded to
the usual ceremonies. The Bishop officiated, the couple was conjoined in
very holy matrimony, and they were permitted to do to each other, before
the public's eyes, all they wanted to do; but, who would have believed it?
the order was of a too liberal scope, or too well understood, and the
little husband, who had an aptitude for learning, perfectly delighted with
the prospect before him but unable to introduce himself into his pretty
wife, was however about to deflower her with his fingers, and would have,
had he been given his way. Firm hands intervened just in time, and the Duc,
making off with Hebe, thigh-fucked her on the spot, while the Bishop did
likewise with Narcisse.
    Dinner came next, the newly-wedded couple were admitted to the feast,
and as they had been given and commanded prodigiously to eat, both upon
leaving the table shitted handsomely, one for Durcet's benefit, the other
for Curval's, who, after having swallowed those little products of
childhood, smacked their lips and declared 'twas delicious.
    Coffee was served by Augustine, Fanny, Celadon, and Zephyr. The Duc
bade Augustine frig Zephyr, and the latter shit in the nobleman's mouth at
the same time he discharged; the operation was a stunning success, so much
so that the Bishop wanted to duplicate it with Celadon; Fanny attended to
the frigging, and the little fellow received orders to shit in
Monseigneur's mouth the moment he felt his fuck flow. But the young
operatives succeeded less brilliantly than had their companions: Celadon
was never able to co-ordinate his shitting with his discharge; however, as
this exercise was merely a test of skill, and as the regulations made no
mention of the subjects being obliged to excel in it, no punishment was
inflicted upon him.
    Durcet gleaned shit from Augustine, and the Bishop, firmly erect, had
Fanny suck him while she shat in his mouth; he discharged, and as his
crisis was violent, he brutalized Fanny somewhat but, unhappily, failed to
find adequate grounds for having her punished, great as was his apparent
wish to arrange something for her. A greater tease than the Bishop never
lived; no sooner would he finish discharging than he would wish for nothing
better than to see his pleasure-object gone to the devil; everyone was
familiar with his character, and the little girls, the wives, and the
little boys dreaded nothing as much as helping him to be rid of his fuck.
    The midday nap over, they passed into the auditorium, the company
distributed itself, and Duclos resumed the thread of her narrative:
    I sometimes used to go into town for parties, said she, and as they
were usually more lucrative, Fournier did her best to procure as many of
that kind as she could.
    She once sent me to the home of an elderly Knight of Malta who opened a
kind of wardrobe filled with cubbyholes, each of which housed a porcelain
chamber pot containing a turd; the old rake had made arrangements with a
sister of his, abbess of one of the most considerable convents in Paris;
that obliging girl, upon his request, every morning sent him a crate of
fresh shit produced by her prettiest little pensionnaires. He filed away
each performance according to a classifying system, and when I arrived he
bade me take down such and such a number, and it proved to be the most
venerable. I presented the pot to him.
    "Oh yes," said he, "that belongs to a girl of sixteen, lovely as the
day. Frig me while I eat her gift."
    The entire ceremony consisted in twiddling his device and in dressing
my bum before his eyes while he ate, then in replenishing the pot he had
just emptied. He watched me do it, wiped my asshole clean with his tongue,
and discharged while sucking my anus. After that, the wardrobe is closed
and locked, I receive my pay, and our man, whom I visited at an early hour
in the morning, curls up and goes blissfully back to sleep.
    Another, more extraordinary in my opinion, was an elderly monk. He
enters, demands eight or ten turds from the first person he sees, girl or
boy, it's all the same to him. He mixes them into a paste which he next
kneads like dough, bites into the lump and, eating at least half of it,
discharges into my mouth.
    A third, and of all the men I have met in my life he aroused the
greatest disgust in me, a third, I say, ordered me to open my mouth wide. I
was naked, lying upon a mattress on the floor, and he was astride me; he
popped his stool into my mouth and the villain then lay down beside me, ate
what I spat out, and sprayed his fuck over my teats.
    "Well, well, that's a pleasant one!" cried Curval; "by Jesus, I do
indeed believe I want to shit, I really must try to. Whom shall I take,
Monsieur le Duc?"
    "Who?" said Blangis. "By my faith, I recommend Julie, my daughter; she
is right there under your hand. You are fond of her mouth, put it to use."
    "Thank you for the advice," said Julie sullenly. "What have I done to
have you say such things?"
    "Why, since the idea upsets her," said the Duc, "and since she's a good
girl, take Mademoiselle Sophie: she's healthy, pretty, and she's only
fourteen, you know."
    "Very well, it's to be Sophie, that's decided," said Curval, whose
turbulent prick was beginning to gesticulate.
    Fanchon approaches the victim, the poor little wretch's tears start to
fall at once. Curval laughs lightly, brings up his great, ugly, and dirty
behind, pushes it down upon that charming visage, and gives us the image of
a toad about to insult a rose. He is frigged, the bomb bursts, Sophie loses
not so much as a crumb, and the crapulous magistrate's tongue and lips
reclaim what he has launched; he swallows it all in just four mouthfuls
while his prick is being rubbed upon the belly of the poor little creature
who, the operation once over, vomits her very guts out, and directly upon
the nose of Durcet who has come up posthaste to miss nothing, and who is
frigging himself while being covered.
    "Off you go, Duclos!" said Curval. "On with your tales, and rejoice at
the effect of your discourses; do they not carry the day?"
    And therewith Duclos resumed, warmed to the very cockles of her heart
by the staggering success which had greeted her anecdote.
    The man with whom I held correspondence directly after the one whose
example has just seduced you, said Duclos, insisted that the woman he was
presented have indigestion; in consequence, Fournier, who had given me no
foreknowledge of the thing, had me, during dinner, swallow a certain
laxative drug which softened what my bowels contained, indeed rendered it
fluid, as if my stool had become transformed into the effect of an enema.
Our man arrives and after several preliminary kisses bestowed upon the
object of his whole veneration, which, by now, was becoming painfully
inflated by gases, I beseech him to start without further delay; the
injection is ready to escape, I grasp his prick, he pants, swallows
everything, asks for still more; I furnish him with a second deluge, it is
soon followed by a third, and the libertine's anchovy finally spits upon my
fingers the unequivocal evidence of the sensation he has received.
    The next day I treated with a personage whose baroque mania will
perhaps find some worshipers amongst yourselves, Messieurs. First of all,
he was installed in the room next to the one in which we ordinarily
operated and in whose wall was that hole so conveniently placed for
observations. He was left alone to arrange himself; a second actor awaited
me in the adjoining chamber: he was a cab driver we had picked up at random
and who was fully apprised of the situation; as I was too, our cast knew
the various roles to perfection. It was a question of having the Phaëthon
shit squarely opposite the hole, so that the libertine hidden on the other
side of the partition would miss nothing involved in the spectacle. I catch
the turd upon a plate, see to it that it lands intact, spread the driver's
buttocks, press around his anus, I neglect nothing that can make shitting
comfortable; as soon as my man has done all he has to do, I snatch up his
prick and get him to discharge over the shit, and all that well within
sight of our observer; finally, the package ready, I dash into the other
room.
    "Here you are, take it quickly, Monsieur," I exclaim, "it's nice and
warm."
    There is no necessity to repeat the invitation; he grasps the dish,
offers me his prick, which I frig, and the rascal bolts everything I tender
him while he exhales his fuck in tune with my diligent hand's elastic
movements.
    "And what was the driver's age?" Curval asked.
    "About thirty," Duclos answered.
    "Why, that's nothing at all," said Curval. "Durcet there will tell you
whenever you like that we once knew an individual who did the same thing,
and with positively the same attendant circumstances, but with a man of
sixty or seventy who had to be found in the lowest sewer of misery and
filth."
    "And, you know," said Durcet, "it's only pretty that way." The
financier's little engine had been gradually lifting its head ever since
Sophie's aspersion. "I shall at any given time be happy to do it with the
eldest of veterans."
    "You're stiff, Durcet," said the Duc, "don't deny it, for I know you:
whenever you start that nasty boasting it's because your fuck is coming to
a boil. So hold, good friend; though not so seasoned in years as you might
like, still, to appease your intemperance, I offer you all I have in my
entrails, and I believe you will find it enough to make a meal upon."
    "Ah, by God's belly!" cried Durcet, "you always serve your guests well,
my dear Duc."
    The Duc entering Durcet's alcove, the latter kneels down before the
buttocks which are to fill him to overflowing with good cheer; the Duc
grunts once, twice, a prodigy tumbles out, the banker swallows and,
transported by this crapulous excess, discharges while swearing he has
never tasted so much pleasure.
    "Duclos," said the Duc, "come do for me what I have done for our good
friend."
    "My Lord," our storyteller replied, "you will recall that I it this
morning, and that you swallowed it."
    "Why, yes, 'tis true," the Duc admitted. "Very well then, hither,
Martaine, I must have recourse to you, for I want none of those children's
asses; I feel my fuck readying to come, but, you know, it comes
reluctantly, and so we need something out of the ordinary."
    But Martaine's case was that of Duclos, Curval had gobbled her shit
that morning.
    "What! by fuck," cried the Duc, "am I then to fail to find a turd this
evening?"
    Whereupon Therèse advanced and offered the dirtiest, the broadest, and
the most stinking possible of asses you, dear reader, may hope to behold.
    "Well, that will do, that will do perfectly," said the Duc, assuming
the posture, "and if in my present disorder this infamous ass I've got here
does not produce its effect, I don't know what I'll have to resort to."
    Dramatic moment; Therèse pushes; the Duc receives! and the incense was
quite as dreadful as the temple whence it emerged, but when one is as stiff
as the Duc was stiff, 'tis never excess of filth one complains of. Drunk
with joy, the scoundrel swallowed every ounce, and directly into Duclos'
face, for she was frigging him, shot the most indubitable proof of his male
vigor.
    Then to table; the ensuing orgies were devoted to the distribution of
justice; that week there were seven delinquents: Zelmire, Colombe, Hebe,
Adonis, Adelaide, Sophie, and Narcisse; the gentle Adelaide was granted no
quarter. Zelmire and Sophie also bore away a few marks of the treatment
they had undergone and, without giving further particulars, since
circumstances do not permit us to give them yet, everyone retired to bed,
and in Morpheus' arms recovered the strength requisite to make further
sacrifices to Venus.




THE FIFTEENTH DAY
    Rarely would the day following correction offer fresh signs of
misbehavior. There were none upon this one, but as strict as ever in the
article of permission to shit in the morning, Messieurs granted this favor
to no one but Hercule, Michette, Sophie, and Desgranges, and Curval came
perilously near to discharging while watching the storyteller at work. Not
overmuch was accomplished at coffee, the friends were content to fondle
buttocks and to suck one or two assholes; the hour sounded, everyone went
promptly to establish himself in the amphitheater. Duclos faced her
audience once again and addressed the company in this wise:
    There had lately come to Fournier's a little girl of twelve or
thirteen, the age preferred by that singular gentleman I mentioned to you;
but I truly doubt whether in a very long time he had debauched anything so
cunning, so innocent, or so pretty. She had fair hair, was tall for her
years and fit to be painted, her physiognomy was tender and voluptuous, her
eyes the loveliest one could hope to see, and in all her charming person
there was something sweet and intriguing which turned her into a very
enchantress. But what was the degradation to which the such a host of
attractions was about to be subjected! and how shameful was the debut being
prepared for them! She was the daughter of a tradesman in lingerie,
purveyor to the Palace and a man of comfortable means, and his daughter
surely had been destined for a happier fate than this of playing the whore;
but the more the man of whom it is a question was able, by means of his
perfidious seductions, to beguile his victims to their ruin, and the more
thorough the depravation into which he guided them, the greater his
pleasure, the fiercer his ecstasy. Little Lucile, directly after her
arrival, was scheduled to satisfy the disgusting and unclean caprices of a
man who, not merely content to have the most crapulous tastes, wished,
still better, to inflict them upon a maid.
    He arrives at the house; he proves to be an old notary stuffed with
gold and who, together with his wealth, has all the brutality that avarice
and luxury excite when combined in a seasoned spirit. The child is
exhibited to him; pretty as she may be, his first reaction is disdain; he
grumbles, he grits his teeth, mutters and swears, and says that it damned
well seems as if one can no longer find a pretty girl in Paris; he demands,
at last, whether there is proof positive she is a virgin, he is assured
that, yes, the article is mint, Fournier offers to show it to him.
    "What? look at a cunt, I? Madame Fournier! I, look at a cunt! I
certainly hope you propose the thing in jest; have you noticed me spending
much time considering those objects since I have been coming to you? I use
them, to be sure, but in a manner which, I believe, attests no great
fondness for them."
    "Very well, Monsieur," Fournier said, "you will have to take the
house's word for it: I declare that she is as much a maid as a child born
five minutes ago."
    They go upstairs together and, as you may well conceive, curious about
the forthcoming tête-à-tête, I go and establish myself at the hole. Poor
little Lucile was overcome by a shame only to be described by superlative
expressions, hence not to be described at all, for those expressions are
needed to represent the impudence, the brutality, and the ill-humor of her
sixty-year-old lover.
    "Well, what the devil are you doing there, are you a stone?" says he in
a harsh voice. "Do I have to tell you to get your skirts up? I should have
been looking at your ass two hours ago. . . . Don't stand there like an
idiot, move."
    "But, Monsieur, what am I to do?"
    "Why, Jesus Christ, are such questions still asked? What are you to do?
Pick up your skirts and show me that damned ass I'm paying to see."
    Lucile obeys, trembling like a leaf, and discloses a little white ass
just as darling and sweet as would be that of Venus herself.
    "Hum . . . looks all right," mutters the brute, "bring it nearer. . .
."
    Then, getting a firm grip upon the two buttocks and separating them
forcefully:
    "You're damned certain no one's ever done anything to you here?"
    "Oh, Monsieur, no one has ever touched me. . . ."
    "Very well. Now fart."
    "But, Monsieur, I can't."
    "Well, try, for Christ's sake, make yourself fart."
    She struggles, frowns, squints, a little breath of aromatic wind does
escape and produces a little echo upon entering the infected mouth of the
old libertine, who seems delighted.
    "Do you want to shit?" he asks.
    "No, Monsieur."
    "Well, I do, I've something copious to get rid of, if you're interested
in the pertinent facts; so prepare yourself to satisfy this particular need
of mine . . . take off your skirts."
    They are removed.
    "Lie down upon that sofa. Raise your thighs."
    Lucile settles herself, the old notary arranges and poses her so that
her wide--flung legs display her cunt to the fullest advantage, in which
open and prominent position it may be readily employed as a chamber pot. So
to use it was his heavenly intention; in order that the container respond
more perfectly to what is to be demanded of it, he begins by widening it as
much as possible, devoting both hands and all his strength to the task. He
takes his place, pushes, a turd lands in the sanctuary Cupid himself would
not have disdained having for a temple. He turns around, eyes his work, and
with his fingers presses and thrusts the filthy excrement into the vagina
and largely out of sight; he establishes himself astride Lucile once again,
and ejects a second, then a third stool, and each is succeeded by the same
ceremony of burial. Finally, having deposited his last turd, he inserts and
tamps it down with such brutal zeal that the little one utters a cry, and
by means of this disagreeable operation perhaps loses the precious flower,
Nature's ornament, offered the child as a gift to Hymen. This was the
moment at which our libertine's pleasure attained its crisis: to have
filled the young and pretty cunt to overflowing with shit, to crowd it with
shit and stuff it with yet more, that was his supreme delight: all the
while in action, he opens his fly and draws out a species of prick, very
flaccid it is, and he shakes it, and as he toils away in his disgusting
manner, he manages to spatter upon the floor a few drops of thin,
discolored sperm, whose loss may be credited solely to the infamies he has
been performing. Having concluded his business, he takes himself off,
Lucile washes, and that is that.
    Some time later, I found myself with another individual whose mania
struck me as no less unpleasant: he was an elderly magistrate at the high
court. One was obliged not only to watch him shit, no, there was more to it
than that: I had to help him, with my fingers, facilitate the matter's
emergence by pressing, opening, agitating, compressing his anus, and when
once he had been freed of his burden, I had with utmost care to clean the
soiled area with my tongue.
    "Well, by God! there's a bit of taxing drudgery, I own," said the
Bishop. "The four ladies you see here, and they are our wives, or our
daughters, or our nieces, these ladies nevertheless have to perform that
same chore every day, you know. And what the devil, I ask you, what the
devil is a woman's tongue good for if not to wipe assholes? I frankly
cannot think of any other use to put it to. Constance," the Bishop pursued,
turning to the Duc's lovely wife, who happened to be upon his couch, "give
Duclos a little demonstration of your proficiency in the thing; here you
are, I'll offer you a very untidy ass, it hasn't been cleaned since this
morning, I've been keeping it this way for you. Off you go, display your
abilities."
    And the poor creature, only too well accustomed to these horrors,
executed them as a dutiful, a thoughtful wife should; ah, great God! what
will not dread and thralldom produce!
    "Oh, by Jesus," said Curval, presenting his ugly, beslimed asshole to
the charming Aline, "she'll not be the only one to give examples of
excellence. Get to work, little whore," said he to that beautiful and
virtuous girl, "outdo your companion."
    And the thing was accomplished.
    "Why, Duclos," said the Bishop, "I think we might proceed now; we only
wished to point out that your man's request had nothing of the unusual
about it, and that a woman's tongue is fit to nothing if to wipe an ass."
    The amiable Duclos fell to laughing and continued:
    You will permit me, Messieurs, said she, to interrupt the catalogue of
passions for an instant that I may apprise you of an event which has no
bearing upon them; it has only to do with me, but as you have ordered me to
recount the interesting episodes in my life, even when they are not related
to the anthology of tastes we are compiling, I think that the following
ought not be passed by in silence.
    I had been a great while at Madame Fournier's, had long since become
the first ranked according to seniority, and in her entire entourage was
the girl in whom she had the greatest confidence. It was I who most often
arranged the parties and received the funds. Fournier had gradually taken
the place of the mother I had lost, she had aided me in time of trouble,
watched over my welfare, had written faithfully to me when I had been
abroad in England, upon my return had as a friend opened her house to me
when, in difficult circumstances, I desired to take asylum with her once
again. Twenty times over she had lent me money, and often had never asked
for it back. The opportunity arrived to show my gratitude and to respond to
her limitless faith in me, and you shall judge, Messieurs, with what
eagerness my soul opened itself to virtue's entrance and what an easy
access it had thereinto: Fournier fell ill, and her first thought was to
call me to her bedside.
    "Duclos, my child, I love you," said she, "well you know it, and I am
going to prove it by the absolute trust I am about to place in you. Despite
your mind, which is not a good one, I believe in you incapable of wronging
a friend; I am very ill, I am old, I do not know what is to become of me.
But I may die soon; I have relatives who will of course be my heirs. I can
at least leave them something, and want to: I have a hundred thousand
francs in gold in this little coffer; take it, my child," said she, "here,
I give it to you, but upon condition you dispose of this money in keeping
with my instructions."
    "Oh, my dear mother," said I, stretching forth my arms to her, "I
beseech you, these precautions distress me; they shall surely prove
needless, but if unhappily they were to prove necessary, I take oath and
swear exactly to carry out your intentions."
    "I believe you, my child," said she, "and that is why my eyes have
settled upon you; that little coffer, then, contains one hundred thousand
francs in gold; I have scruples, a few scruples, my dear friend, I feel
remorseful for the life I have led, the quantity of girls I have cast into
crime and snatched away from God. And so I wish to do two things by means
of which it is my hope the divinity will be led to deal less severely with
me: I think of charity now, and of prayer. You shall take fifteen thousand
francs of this money, and you shall give it to the Capuchins on the rue
Saint-Honore, so that those good fathers will say a perpetual mass for the
salvation of my soul; another sum, also of fifteen thousand francs, shall
be set aside, and when I have closed my eyes, you shall surrender it to the
cure of the parish and beg him to distribute it amongst the poor dwelling
in this quarter of the city. Charity is a very excellent thing, my child;
nothing better repairs in the eyes of God the sins we have committed in
this world. The poor are His children, and beloved of Him is he who gives
them succor and comfort; never is God more to be pleased than by alms
distributed to the needy. There lies the true way of gaining Heaven, my
child! As for the remainder, immediately I am dead you shall take sixty
thousand francs to one Petignon, a shoemaker's apprentice in the rue du
Bouloir: this poor lad is my son, he knows nothing of his origins: he is
the bastard issue of adultery. Upon dying, I want the unhappy orphan to
benefit from those marks of tenderness I have never shown him while alive.
Ten thousand francs are left; I beg you to keep them, my dear Duclos, keep
them as a feeble token of my fondness for you, may they be some kind of
recompense for the trouble you shall have to take in seeing to the
distribution of the rest of my fortune. And may this little sum aid you to
resolve to abandon the dreadful trade we follow, a calling wherein there is
no salvation, nor any hope. For one is not a whore forever."
    Innerly delighted to be entrusted with such a handsome sum, and
thoroughly determined, for fear of becoming confused by Fournier's
intricate instructions upon sharing it, to keep her fortune intact and for
myself alone, I produced a flood of very artificial tears and cast myself
into the old matron's arms, reiterated many oaths of fidelity, and turned
all my thoughts thenceforth to devising means to prevent the cruel
disappointments certain to occur were a return to sound health to bring
about a change in her resolutions. The means presented itself the very next
day: the doctor prescribed and emetic, and as I was in charge of nursing
her, it was to me he handed the medicine, drawing my attention to the fact
the package contained two doses, and warning me to be sure to administer
only one at a time because, were both given her, death would be the result;
were the first to have no effect, or an insufficient one, the second could
be employed later, if need be. I promised the doctor to take the greatest
possible care, and immediately he had turned his back, banishing from my
heart all those futile sentiments which would have stopped a timorous
spirit, putting to rout all remorse and all frailty, and thinking
exclusively of my gold, of the sweet charm of making it mine, and of the
delicious titillation one experiences every time one concerts an evil deed,
the certain prognostic of the pleasure it will give, dwelling, I say, upon
all that and upon nothing else, I straightway dropped both doses into a
glass of water and offered the brew to my dear friend's lips; she swallowed
it down without a moment's delay and thereby, just as rapidly, found the
death I had sought to procure her.
    I cannot describe to you what feelings possessed me when I saw my
scheme had succeeded; each of the retchings wherewith she exhaled her life
produced a truly delicious sensation throughout my entire being; thrilled,
I listened to her, I watched her, I was perfectly intoxicated with joy. She
stretched her arms toward me, addressed me a last farewell, I was
overwhelmed with pleasurable sensations, I was already forming a thousand
plans for spending the gold. I had not long to wait; Fournier expired that
same afternoon; the prize belonged to me.
    "Duclos," said the Duc, "be truthful: did you frig yourself? did
crime's piercingly voluptuous sensation attain your organs of pleasure?"
    "Yes, my Lord, I confess it did; thanks to my prank I discharged five
times before nightfall."
    "It is then true," the Duc intoned in a loud and authoritative voice,
"it is then true that crime has of itself such a compelling attractiveness
that, unattended by any accessory activity, it may be itself suffice to
inflame every passion and to hurl one into the same delirium occasioned by
lubricious acts. Well, what say you?"
    "Why, my Lord," Duclos answered, "I say I had my employer honorably
buried, appropriated the bastard Petignon's inheritance, wasted not a penny
on perpetual masses, nor did I bother to make a single charitable
distribution, for, as a matter of fact, I have always beheld charity with
the most authentic horror, regardless of the speeches, such as Fournier's,
that I have heard pronounced in its favor. I maintain that there must be
poor in this world, that Nature wishes that such there be, that she
requires it, and that it is to fly in the face of her decrees to pretend to
restore equilibrium, if it is disorder she wants."
    "What's this!" said Durcet. "Do you then have principles, Duclos? I am
very pleased to observe this in you; for, as you appear to realize, any
relief given to misfortune, any gesture that lightens the load of the
distressed, is a real crime against the natural order. The inequality she
has created in our persons proves that this discordance pleases Nature,
since 'twas she established it, and since she wishes that it exists in
fortunes as well as in bodies. And as the weak may always redress matters
by means of theft, the strong are equally allowed to restore inequality, or
protect it, by refusing to give aid to the wretched. The universe would
cease on the spot to subsist were there to be an exact similarity amongst
all beings; 'tis of this disparity there is born the order which preserves,
contains, directs everything. One must therefore take great care not to
disturb it; moreover, in believing that it is a good thing I do for this
miserable class of men, I do much ill to another, for indigence is the
nursery to which the wealthy and powerful repair in quest of the objects
their lust or cruelty needs; I deprive the rich man of that branch of
pleasure when, by raising up the downtrodden, I inhibit this class from
yielding to him. And thus my charities have done nothing but put one part
of humankind very modestly in my debt and done prodigious harm to the
other. Hence, I regard charity not only as something evil in itself, but,
what is more, I consider it a crime against Nature who, having first made
differences apparent to our eyes, has certainly never intended ideas of
eliminating them to occupy our heads. And so, far from giving alms to the
poor, consoling the widow, succoring the orphan, if it is according to
Nature's true intentions I wish to act, not only do I leave these wretches
in the state Nature put them into, but I even lend Nature a strong right
arm and aid her by prolonging this state and vigorously opposing any
efforts they make to change it, and to this end I believe any means may be
allowed."
    "What!" cried the Duc, "even stealing from and ruining them?"
    "Oh my, yes," the financier replied, "even augmenting their number,
since this class serves another, and since, by increasing the size of the
one, though I may do it a modicum of harm, I shall perform a great service
for the other."
    "That, my friends, is a very harsh system indeed," said Curval.
"Haven't you heard tell of the sweet pleasures of doing good unto others?"
    "Abusive pleasures!" Durcet answered at once. "That delight you allude
to is nothing like the one I recommend; the first is illusory, a fiction;
the second is authentic, real; the first is founded upon vile prejudices,
the second upon reason; the first, through the agency of pride, the most
false of all our sensations, may provide the heart with a brief instant's
titillation; the other is a veritable mental pleasure-taking, and it
inflames every other passion by the very fact it runs counter to common
opinions. In a word, one of them gets this prick of mine stiff," Durcet
concluded, "and I feel practically nothing from the other."
    "But must the one criterion for judging everything be our feelings?"
asked the Bishop.
    "The only one, my friend," said Durcet; "our senses, nothing else, must
guide all our actions in life, because only their voice is truly
imperious."
    "But God knows how many thousand crimes may be the result of such a
doctrine," the Bishop observed.
    "God knows, yes, and do you suppose that matters?" Durcet demanded;
"for it is enjoyable, isn't it? Crime is a natural mode, a manner whereby
Nature stirs man, makes him to move. Why would you not have me let myself
be moved by Nature in this direction as well as in the direction of virtue?
Nature needs virtuous acts, and vicious ones too; I serve Nature as well by
performing the one as when I commit the other. But we have entered into a
discussion which could lead us far; suppertime is approaching, and Duclos
has still ground to cover before completing her task. Go on, charming girl,
pursue your way, and believe me when I say you have just acknowledged an
act and a doctrine which make you deserving of our eternal esteem and of
that of every philosopher."
    My first idea when once my good patron had been inhumed was to assume
the direction of her house and to maintain it on the same footing she had
found so profitable. I announced this project to my colleagues, and they
all, Eugenie above the rest, for she was my best beloved, I say, promised
to regard me as their new mother. I was not too young to pretend to the
title, being then nearly thirty and possessed of all the intelligence and
good sense one must have to govern a convent. And so it is, Messieurs, that
I shall conclude the story of my adventures not as a public whore, but as
an abbess, pretty enough and still youthful enough sometimes, indeed often,
to treat directly with our clients; and treat with them I did: I shall in
the sequel take care to notify you each time I took personal charge of the
problem at hand. All Fournier's customers remained to me, I knew the secret
of acquiring additional ones: my apartments were kept very neat and clean,
and an excessive submissiveness inculcated in my girls, whom I selected
with discrimination, hugely flattered my libertines' caprices.
    The first purchaser to arrive was an old treasurer of the Exchequer, a
former friend of the departed Fournier; I gave him little Lucile, over whom
he waxed very enhusiastic. His habitual mania, quite as filthy as
disagreeable for his partner, consisted in shitting upon his Dulcinea's
face, of smearing his excrement over all her features, and then of kissing
her in this state, and of sucking her. Out of friendship for me, Lucile
allowed the old satyr to have his way very completely with her, and he
discharged upon her belly as he lay kissing and licking his disgusting
performance.
    Not long afterward, we had another; Eugenie was also assigned to cope
with him. He had a barrel full of shit trundled in, plunged the naked girl
into it, and licked every inch of her body, swallowing what he removed, and
not finishing until he had rendered her as clean as she had been prior to
her immersion. That one was a celebrated lawyer, a rich man and a very
well-known one; he possessed, for the enjoyment of women, none but the most
modest qualities, which lack he remedied by this species of libertinage he
had lovingly cultivated all his life.
    The Marquis de R***, one of Fournier's oldest clients, came shortly
after her death to express his sorrow upon learning that she was no more;
he also assured me he would patronize the house just as faithfully as
before and, to convince me of his devotion, wanted to see Eugenie that same
evening. This old rake's passion consisted in first bestowing prodigious
kisses upon the girl's mouth; he swallowed all the saliva it were possible
to drain from her, then kissed her buttocks for a quarter of an hour,
called for farts, and finally demanded the major thing. After it had been
done, he kept the turd in his mouth and, making the girl bend down over
him, he had her embrace him with one hand and frig him with the other; and
while he was tasting the pleasure of this masturbation and tickling her
beshitted asshole, the girl had to eat the turd she had deposited in his
mouth. Although he was prepared to pay very well, he used to find
exceedingly few girls who were willing to cooperate in this little
abomination, and that is why the Marquis would come regularly to me: he was
as eager to remain one of my clients as I was to have him make frequent
visits to my establishment. . . .
    At this point the Duc, very hot indeed, said that as the supper hour
was hard upon them, he would like, before going to table, to execute the
last-cited fantasy. And this is how he went about it: he had Sophie come to
him, received her turd in his mouth, then obliged Zelamir to run up and eat
Sophie's creation. This idiosyncrasy might perhaps have been a delight for
anyone else but a child like Zelamir; as yet insufficiently mature, hence
unable to appreciate the delicious, he manifested disgust only, and seemed
about to misbehave. But the Duc threatened him with everything his anger
might produce were the boy to hesitate another instant; the boy obeyed. The
stunt struck the others as so engaging that each of them imitated it, more
or less, for Durcet held that favors had to be parceled out fairly; was it
just, he asked, for the little boys to eat the girls' shit while the girls
went hungry? no, surely not, and consequently he had Zephyr shit in his
mouth and ordered up Augustine to eat the marmalade, which that lovely and
interesting girl promptly did, her repast being as promptly succeeded by
the racking vomitings.
    Curval imitated this variation and received his dear Adonis' turd,
which Michette consumed, not without a duplication of Augustine's
histrionics; as for the Bishop, he was content to emulate his brother, and
had the delicate Zelmire excrete a confiture Celadon was induced to gobble
up. Accompanying all this were certain unmistakable signs of repugnance
which, of course, were of the greatest interest to libertines in whose view
the torments they inflict are unexcelled for inspiring satisfaction. The
Bishop and the Duc discharged, the two others either could not, or would
not, and all four went in to supper, where Duclos' action was the object of
the loftiest encomiums.
    "A very intelligent creature," observed the Duc, whose regard for the
storyteller could not have been more profound. "Intelligent, I say, to have
sensed that gratitude is nonsense, an hallucination, and that ties of
fondness or of any other sort ought never either to make us pause or even
to suspend the effects of crime, because the object which has served us can
claim no right to our heart's generosity; that object employs itself only
in our behalf, its mere presence humiliates a stout soul, and one must
either hate of be rid of it."
    "Very true," said Durcet, "so true that you'll never see a man of any
wit seek to make others grateful to him. Fully certain that benevolence
creates nothing but enemies, he practices only the arts his wisdom approves
for his safety."
    "One moment," interrupted the Bishop. "It is not at giving you pleasure
he who serves you is laboring, but he is rather striving simply to gain an
ascendancy over you by putting you in his debt. Well, I ask, what does such
a scheme deserve? He does not say, as he serves you: I serve you because I
wish to do good for you. No, he simply says: I put you under obligation in
order to lower you and to raise myself above you."
    "These reflections seem to me," said Durcet, "abundantly to prove how
abusive are the services usually rendered, and how absurd is the practice
of good. But, they will tell you, one does good for its own sake and for
one's own; 'tis all very well for them whose weakness of spirit permits
them to enjoy such little delights, but they who are revolted by them, as
are we, great God! would be great fools to bother over such tepid stuff."
    This doctrine having fired their imaginations, Messieurs drank a great
deal, and the orgies were celebrated with vivacity and brio. Our like-
thinking libertines sent the children off to bed, chose to spend a part of
the night tippling with no one but the four elders and the four
storytellers, and in their company to vie with one another in infamies and
atrocities. As amongst these twelve individuals there was not one who was
not worthy of the noose, the rack, and probably the wheel, I leave it to
the reader to picture what was said and done. For from words they passed to
deeds, the Duc got hot again, and I don't know just why it happened or how,
but they say Therèse bore the marks of his affection for weeks. However all
that may be, let us allow our actors to move from these bacchanals to the
chaste bed of the wife that had been prepared for each of the four, and let
us see what transpired at the castle on the morrow.




THE SIXTEENTH DAY
    Our heroes rose as bright and fresh as if they had just arrived from
confession; but upon close inspection, one might have noticed that the Duc
was beginning to tire a little. Blame for this could have been bestowed
upon Duclos; there is no question but that the girl had entirely mastered
the art of procuring him delight and that, according to his own words, his
discharges were lubricious with no one else, which would corroborate the
idea that these matters depend solely upon caprice, upon idiosyncrasy, and
that age, looks, virtue, and all the rest have nothing whatever to do with
the problem, that it all boils down to a certain tactfulness which is much
more often found possessed by beauties in the autumn of life than by those
others of no experience whom the springtide yet crowns with all her show.
    There was as well another creature in the company who was beginning to
make herself very amiable and to attract considerable attention; we are
referring to Julie. She was already announcing signs of imagination,
debauchery, and of libertinage. Astute enough to sense that she stood in
need of protection, clever enough to caress those very persons for whom
perhaps she did not at heart have a very great fondness, she contrived to
become Duclos' friend, this in order to try to achieve some favor in the
eyes of her father upon the others. Every time her turn came to lie with
the Duc, she would adopt Duclos' techniques and emulate them so
successfully, give proof of such skill, so much consideration, that the Duc
was always sure of obtaining delicious discharges whenever he used those
two creatures to procure them. Nevertheless, his enhusiasm for his daughter
was waning prodigiously, and perhaps without Duclos' assistance, for the
narrator consistently spoke well in her behalf, she would never have been
able to occupy a place in his good graces. Her husband, Curval, was roughly
of the same mind regarding her, and although, by means of her impure mouth
and kisses, she still managed to wheedle a few discharges from him, disgust
was dangerously near to becoming his predominating attitude toward her: one
might even have said that the fires of his hostility were fanned by her
impudicious caresses. Durcet held her in no esteem, she had not made him
discharge more than twice since the adventures at Silling had started. And
so it seemed that no one but the Bishop remained to her, and he indeed was
fond of her libertine jargon, and judged hers to be the world's finest ass;
and it is certain that Nature had furnished her with one as lovely as that
which had been given to Venus. She hence made the most of that part, for
she wished absolutely to please at whatever the price; as she felt an
extreme need for a protector, she sought to cultivate Duclos.
    At the chapel appeared that day no more than three persons: Hebe,
Constance, Martaine; no one had been found at fault that morning. After the
three subjects had ridded themselves of their freight, Durcet was taken by
an impulse to be delivered of his. The Duc, who since early morning had
been fluttering and buzzing about the financier's behind, seized the
opportunity to satisfy himself and, sending away everyone but Constance,
whom they kept as an aide, they encloseted themselves in the chapel. The
Duc was appeased by the generous mouthful of shit he had from Durcet; these
gentlemen, however, did not limit themselves to that prelude, and afterward
Constance reported to the Bishop that they had performed infamies for a
good thirty minutes. But what is one to expect? they had been friends, as I
have said, since childhood, and since then had never ceased reminding one
another of their schoolboy pleasures. As for Constance, she served no great
purpose during this tête-à-tête; she wiped asses, sucked and frigged a few
pricks, and that was about all.
    They retired to the salon, the four friends conversed there for a
while, and the midday meal was announced. It was, as usual, splendid and
libertine and, after some lewd fingerings and bawdy colling, and a few
scandalous remarks which spiced their lascivious byplay, they returned to
the salon where Zephyr and Hyacinthe, Michette and Colombe were waiting to
serve coffee. The Duc thigh-fucked Michette, and Curval, Hyacinthe; Durcet
fetched shit out of Colombe, and the Bishop dropped some in Zephyr's mouth;
Curval, recollecting one of the passions Duclos had related the day before,
was moved to shit in Colombe's cunt; old Therèse, who was supervising the
day's quartet, placed Colombe in a suitable posture, and Curval performed.
But as he produced colossal turds, proportioned by the immense quantity of
victuals wherewith he stuffed himself every day, almost all of his creation
spilled upon the floor and it was, so to speak, only superficially he
beshitified that pretty little virgin cunt which had not, one would have
thought, been intended by Nature to be used for such disagreeable
pleasures.
    Deliciously frigged by Zephyr, the Bishop yielded his fuck
philosophically, joining, to the delights he was feeling, that other
offered by the wonderful spectacle being enacted about him. He was furious,
he scolded Zephyr, he scolded Curval, he fumed and grumbled at everyone. He
was given a large glass of elixir whereby they hoped his faculties would be
restored, Michette and Colombe settled him upon a sofa for his nap and
stood by him while he slept. He woke amply refreshed and, in order to give
him additional strength, Colombe sucked him for a moment or two; his engine
responded by showing some positive signs of life, and they went next into
the auditorium. The Bishop had Julie on his couch; as he was rather fond of
her, the sight of her improved his mood. The Duc had aline; Durcet,
Constance; the President, his daughter. Everything being ready, the lovely
Duclos installed herself upon her throne and began thus:
    There is nothing more untrue than to say money acquired through crime
brings no happiness. No greater error, I assure you; my house prospered;
never had so many clients come there during Fournier's administration. It
was then an idea occurred to me, a rather cruel idea, I admit, but one
which, I dare flatter myself in believing, will not be altogether
displeasing to your Lordships. It seemed to me that when one had not done
unto another the good one ought to have done him, there existed a certain
wicked voluptuousness in doing him ill, and my perfidious imagination
suggested a little libertine mischief at the expense of that same Petignon,
my benefactress' son, and the individual to whom I had been charged to
surrender a fortune which, doubtless, would have proven very welcome to
that wretch, and which I had already begun to squander upon trifles. The
occasion arrived in this way: the poor shoemaker, married to a girl of his
own class and sort, had, as the unique fruit of this unfortunate marriage,
a daughter of about twelve; I had been to told that, together with all the
lovely features of childhood, she possessed all the attributes of the most
tender beauty. This child, then being brought up humbly but nevertheless as
carefully as the parents' indigence could permit, for she was the joy and
light of their life, this child, I say, struck me as a capture well worth
making.
    Petignon had never come ot the house, he knew nothing of the legal
rights that were his; immediately after Fournier had mentioned him to me,
my first move was to obtain information about him and those around him, and
thus I learned that he possessed a treasure in his house. At about the same
time the Comte de Mesanges came to me; a famous libertine of whose
profession Desgranges will doubtless have at least one occasion to speak,
the Comte requested me to provide him with a maid of no more than thirteen
at whatever the price. I don't know what he wanted with the article, for he
passed for a man with very rigorous scruples when it was a question of
women, but his proposal was simple enough: after having, with the help of
experts, established her virginity, he said he would buy her from me for a
fixed sum and, from this moment on, she would be his, he would be her
master, and, he added, the child would be removed, perhaps permanently,
from France.
    As the Comte was one of my habitues - you shall see him enter upon the
scene very soon - I set everything in motion in an effort to satisfy him;
Petignon's little daughter seemed to me exactly what he needed. But how was
I to get my hands upon her? The child never left the house, it was there
she received her education; so carefully was she supervised, so
circumspectly that I began to despair of the prize. Nor was I able to
employ that masterful debaucher of girls I mentioned some time ago; he was
away from the city, and the Comte was urging me to hurry. And so I could
find only one means, and this means could not have been better designed to
serve the secret little wickedness which was impelling me to commit this
crime, for the crime was aggravated by it. I resolved to embroil husband
and wife in some kind of difficulty, to strive to get both of them
imprisoned, and in this way removing some of the obstacles between the
child and myself, I fancied I would encounter no trouble in luring her into
the snare. Wherewith I consulted one of my friends, a skilled barrister
whom I trusted and who was capable of anything; I put him on the scent, he
went directly to work: he compiled information, made inquiries, located
creditors, aroused them, supported their claims, in brief, it took less
than a week to lodge husband and wife behind bars. From then on everything
was easy; an adroit scout accosted the little girl, who had been abandoned
to the care of some poor neighbors, she was led to me. Her appearance
perfectly matched the reports I had received: she had a sweet, a soft, a
fair skin, the roundest little ornaments, charms perfectly shaped. . . . In
a word, it were difficult to find a prettier child.
    As she cost me, all told, about twenty louis, and as the Comte wished
to pay a flat price for her and, having once bought her outright, wished
neither to hear another word about the transaction nor have further
dealings with anyone, I let her go for one hundred louis; it being
essential to my interests that no one get wind of my part in the thing, I
was content with a net profit of sixty louis, given my attorney another
twenty to create just that kind of stir which would prevent her parents
from having news of their daughter for a long time. But news did reach
them; the girl's disappearance was impossible to conceal. The neighbors who
had been guilty of negligence excused themselves at best they were able,
and as for the poor shoemaker and his wife, my man-of-law managed matters
so well that they were never able to remedy the accident, for both of them
died in jail some eleven years after I had made off with my prey. I reaped
a twofold advantage from that little mishap, since it simultaneously
assured me undisputed ownership of the child I was negotiating to sell and
also assured me 60,000 francs for my trouble. As for the child, the Comte
was satisfied with her; never did he encounter any difficulties, never did
I, no, not a word was said, and it is more than likely Madame Desgranges
will finish her story; I know no more about it. But it is high time to
return to my own adventures, and to the daily events which may offer you
the voluptuous details we have listed.
    "Oh by God!" Curval broke in, "I adore your prudence - there is
something in your method which bespeaks a meditated villainy, an
orderliness which pleases me more than I can say. And as for that rascality
of having given the final stroke to a victim you had until then only
scratched . . .ah, that seems to me a refinement of infamy which deserves a
place amongst our own masterpieces."
    "I wonder, however," said Durcet, "whether I might not have done worse,
for, after all, those parents could have obtained their release from jail:
there are God knows how many fools in the world who think of nothing but
helping such people. Those eleven years during which they lingered on meant
worry for you."
    "Monsieur," Duclos answered him, "when one does not enjoy the influence
you have in society, when for one's little pranks one is forced to employ
second-rate allies, caution often becomes very necessary, and at such times
one dares not do all one would like."
    "True, true," said the Duc, "she was unable to go any further."
    And the amiable creature took up the thread of her narrative.
    Dreadful it is, my Lords, said that accomplished girl, to have still to
relate turpitudes in kind like to those I have been speaking about for
several days; but you have required that I cite everything which might bear
an even faint resemblance to this great genre of abomination, and insisted
too that I suppress nothing. But three more examples of these filthy
atrocities and we shall then continue on to other fantasies.
    The first I propose to mention is that of an elderly administrator of
the demesne, a man of I should say three score and six. He would have the
woman remove all her clothes and, after having fondled her buttocks with
less delicacy than brutality, he would promptly order her to shit on the
floor before his eyes, in the middle of the room. When he had relished this
prospect, he would in his turn step up and lay his own turd next to hers,
then, combining them with his hands, he would oblige the girl to get down
on all fours and eat the hash, and while eating she was to present her
behind, which she was to have brought to the party in a most maculated
state. While the ceremony was in progress he would manualize himself, and
used to discharge as soon as the last bite had vanished. There were few
girls, as your Lordships may readily believe, who would consent to submit
themselves to such vile use, but all the same the administrator had to have
them youthful and healthy. . . . Well, I used somehow to find what he
needed, for everything is to be found in Paris; however, the merchandise
came dear.
    The second example of the three I have left to cite of this species
also required what might be termed a furious docility on the girl's part;
but as this libertine wished her to be extremely young, I had less trouble
supplying him: children lend themselves to these games more readily than do
mature women. I located a pretty little shopgirl of twelve or thirteen for
the gentleman whom we are about to see in action; he arrives, has the girl
take off only the clothing that covers her from the waist down; he toys
with her behind for a brief moment, gets her to fart a little, then gives
himself four or five copious enemas which, subsequently, he obliges his
little partner to receive into her mouth and to swallow as the cascade
tumbles out of his rectum. Meanwhile, as he was seated astride her chest,
he employed one hand to frig a rather thick device and with the other he
kneaded and pinched her mons veneris and, in order that he might do it all
as he wished, he had to have a completely hairless cunt to work with. This
individual wanted to continue on even after his sixth explosion, for his
discharge was not yet achieved. The little girl, convulsed with vomiting,
managed to articulate her disinclination to proceed, she begged to be
spared, he laughed at her, introduced a seventh draught, expelled it, and
his fuck finally did indeed flow.
    An elderly banker provides us with the last example of these unclean
horrors - or rather the last example of a man for whom they were the
principal element, for I must warn you that we shall have repeated occasion
to behold them as accessories to the main endeavor. He had to have a
handsome woman, but one aged from forty to forty-five and with an extremely
flabby pair of breasts. Immediately they were encloseted together he would
have her remove all she was wearing from the waist up, and having brutally
handled her teats, would cry: "These damned cow dugs! what good are such
tripes, eh? What are they for if not to wipe my ass upon?" Next he would
squeeze them, twist them, wring them, twine them together, tug them, pound
them, spit upon them, kick and trample them, all the while saying, what a
damned infamous thing is a flabby tit, he could not imagine what Nature had
intended these bags of skin for, why had Nature spoiled and dishonored
woman's body with these things? etc. After all these preposterous remarks
he would remove every stitch of his clothing. My God, what a body! how am I
to describe it to your Lordships! 'Twas no more than a disgusting ulcer, a
running sore, pus seemed to cover him from head to toe, I could smell his
infected odor even in the adjacent room from which I was observing the
ritual; such was the relic which, however, the woman had to suck.
    "Suck?" said the Duc.
    Yes, Messieurs, Duclos affirmed, suck from top to bottom, every square
inch of his body had to be sucked, the tongue was to neglect nothing, to
explore it all; I had forewarned the girl, but apparently in vain. She'd
not expected this; for upon catching sight of that ambulatory corpse she
shrank away in horror.
    "What's this, bitch?" says he, "do I disgust you? Why, that's a pity,
for you're going to have to suck me, your tongue is going to have to lick
every part of my body. Come now! Stop playing the shy little girl; others
have done the job, see to it that you do it as well as they. That's enough,
I tell you, no nonsense."
    Ah, they speak true when they say that with money one can accomplish
anything; the poor creature I had given him was in the extremest misery,
and her was a chance to earn two louis: she did everything she was told,
and the podagrous old scoundrel, thrilled by the sensation of a tongue
straying softly over his hideous body and sweetening the bitter pungency
devouring him, frigged himself voluptuously during the entire operation.
When it had been completed, and completed, as you may well suppose, despite
the horrible revulsion of the luckless woman, when it was done, I say, he
had her lie down upon the floor on her back, he got astride her, shitted
all over her bubs, and squeezing his performance between them, he used
them, first one, then the other, to wipe his ass. But with what regards his
discharge, I saw not so much as a hint, and some time later I learned that
it required several such operations before he could be induced to part with
his liquor; and as he was a man who seldom twice visited the same place, I
saw no more of him and, to tell the truth, was by no means sorry.
    "Upon my soul," the Duc observed, "I find the conclusion of that man's
operation very reasonable indeed, and I too have never been able to believe
that teats were intended for anything but bumwipes."
    "One may be certain," said Curval, who at the moment was rather
brutally handling those belonging to the sweet and tender Aline, "one may
be certain indeed that a tit is a very infamous object. I never catch sight
of one without being plunged straightway into a rage. Upon seeing these
things I experience a certain disgust, a certain repugnance assails me . .
. only a cunt has a worse and more decided effect upon me."
    And so saying, he flung himself into his closet, dragging Aline by the
breast and calling out to Sophie and Zelmire, his quatrain's two girls, and
Fanchon to follow him. One cannot be sure of precisely what he did, but a
loud scream, clearly a woman's, was heard by the others in the auditorium,
and shortly afterward came the bellowings that usually indicated the
President had discharged. He returned. Aline was weeping and held a
kerchief over her breast, and as these events rarely created any stir, or,
at best, a few chuckles, Duclos went on with her story at once.
    Several days later I myself took care, said she, of an old monk whose
mania, more wearying to the hand, was rather less revolting to the stomach.
He presented me with a great ugly behind covered with skin as tough as
bull's hide and as wrinkled as a dried leaf; the task here was to knead his
ass, to handle it, drub and thump it, squeeze it with all my strength, but
when I reached the hole, nothing I did seemed sufficiently violent: I had
to catch up the skin, rub it, pinch it, roll it between my fingers, use my
nails, and it was thanks only to the vigor of my ministrations his fuck
finally emerged. He attended to his own frigging while I abused his bum and
vent, and I was not even obliged to show him my ankles. But that man must
have made a very fierce and old habit of those manipulations, for his
behind, although slack and hanging, was nevertheless upholstered by a skin
as horny and as thick as leather.
    The next day, doubtless having spoken highly of me and my dexterity to
his friends in the monastery, he sent one of his brethren upon whose ass
one had to bestow slaps, indeed blows of the hand, and stout ones at that;
but this new ecclesiastic, more of a libertine and an examiner, preceded
his rite by a meticulous inspection of his woman's buttocks, and my ass was
kissed, nuzzled, tongued ten or twelve times over, the intervals being
filled by blows aimed at his. When his hide had taken a scarlet hue, his
prick got bravely up, and I can certify that it was one of the noblest
engines I had palmed and fingered until that day. He put it into my hand,
recommending that I frig it while continuing to slap him with the other.
    "Unless I am gravely mistaken," said the Bishop, "we have finally
reached the article of passive fustigation."
    "Yes, Monseigneur," replied Duclos, "we have, and as my task for today
has been fulfilled, you will consent to allow me to postpone until tomorrow
the beginning of fustigatory tastes; we shall devote several soirees to
dealing with them."
    As nearly half an hour remained before supper, Durcet said that, to
stimulate his appetite, he wished to give his entrails a few rinses; his
announcement made something of an impression upon the women, who began to
tremble; but sentence had been decreed, there was no revoking it. Therèse,
his servant that day, assured him she introduced the tube with wonderful
skill; from the assertion she passed to the proof, and as soon as the
little financier felt his bowels loaded, he singled out Rosette, beckoned
her to him, and bade her open her mouth. There was some balking, a few
complaints and a word or two of pleading, but the capital thing was
obedience and, sure enough, the poor little girl swallowed two eruptions,
having been granted the option or regurgitating them afterward. And
regurgitate them she did, and soon. Happily, the supper bell sounded, for
the financier was getting ready to begin again. But the prospect of a meal
changed the disposition of their Lordships' minds, they went to taste
different pleasures. A few turds were lodged on a few bubs at the orgies,
and a great deal of shit was gleaned from asses; within the assembly's full
view, the Duc consumed Duclos' turd, while that splendid girl sucked him,
and while the bawdy fellow's hands roamed here and there, his fuck came out
in a thick spray; Curval having imitated him with Champville, the friends
began to speak of retiring for the night.




THE SEVENTEENTH DAY
    The terrible antipathy the President had for Constance was manifest in
daily outbursts: he had spent the night with her, having made a bilateral
arrangement with Durcet, to whom he returned her the following morning with
the most bitter complaints about her behavior.
    "Since because of her condition," said he, "the society seems loath to
expose her to the customary punishments for fear she be brought to bed
before the time we have appointed to pluck her fruit, at least, by Jesus,"
said he, "we should find some means or other to punish the whore when she
chooses to play the fool."
    Ah, but what is that spirit of evil that inhabits libertines? Some
glimmer of it may be obtained by analyzing Constance's prodigious fault. O
reader, what do you suppose it was had waked Curval's wrath? Even worse
than you may have dreamt: she had most unfortunately turned her front
toward her master when he had called for her behind, ah yes, and such sins
are not to be forgiven. But the worst part of her error was her denial of
the fact; she declared, and there seemed some basis to her contention, that
the President was calumniating her, that he was seeking naught but her
downfall, that she never lay with him but he would invent some such
untruth; but as the law was precise and formal on this point, and as
women's speeches were given no credence whatever in that society, but one
question remained posed: how in future was this female to be chastised
without risking the spoilage of the fruit ripening in her? It was decided
that for each misdemeanor she would be obliged to eat a turd and,
consequently, Curval insisted that she begin there and then. Approbation
greeted his demand. They were at the time breakfasting in the girls'
quarters, word was dispatched, Constance was summoned, the President
shitted in the center of the room, and she was enjoined to approach his
creation on hands and knees and to devour what the cruel man had just
wrought. She cast herself upon her knees, yes, but in this posture begged
pardon, and her solicitations went unheeded; Nature had put bronze in those
breasts where hearts are commonly to be found. Nothing more entertaining
than the grimaces and affected airs to which the poor woman resorted before
capitulating, and God knows how amused Messieurs were by the scene. At
last, however, decisive action had to be taken, Constance's very soul
seemed to burst before she was half done, but it had all to be done
nevertheless, and every ounce disappeared from the tiles on the floor.
    Excited by what he was witnessing, each of our friends, while watching,
had himself frigged by a small girl; Curval, singularly aroused by the
operation and benefiting from the wondrous skill of Augustine's enchanted
fingers, feeling himself nigh to overflowing, called to Constance, who had
scarcely finished eating her mournful breakfast.
    "Hither, come to me, whore," said he, "after having bolted some fish
one needs a little sauce, good white sauce. Come get a mouthful."
    Well, there was no escaping that ordeal either, and Curval, who, while
operating, was having Augustine shit, opened the sluices and let fly into
the mouth of the Duc's miserable wife, and at the same time swallowed the
fresh and delicate little turd the interesting Augustine had hatched for
him.
    The inspection tours were conducted, Durcet found shit in Sophie's
chamber pot. The young lady sought to excuse her error by maintaining that
she had been suffering from indigestion.
    "Not at all," Durcet observed as expertly he handled the turd, "that is
not true: indigestion produces diarrhea, soup, my dear, and this article
looks very sound to me."
    And straightway taking up his baneful notebook, he wrote down the name
of that charming creature, who did her best to hide her tears and
refrained, at Durcet's request, from deploring her situation. Everyone else
had abided by the regulations, but in the boys' chamber, Zelamir, who had
shitted the previous evening during the orgies and who had been told not to
wipe his little bum, had tidied it up none the less, disobeying the orders.
These were the crimes of the first magnitude: Zelamir's name was inscribed.
Notwithstanding the boy's delinquency, Durcet kissed his ass and had
himself sucked for a brief moment, then Messieurs passed on to the chapel,
where they beheld the shitting of two subaltern fuckers, Aline, Fanny,
Therèse, and Champville. The Duc received Fanny's performance in his mouth,
and he ate it, the Bishop's mouth caught the two fuckers' turds, one of
which the prelate devoured, Durcet made Champville's his own, and the
President, despite his discharge, gulped down Aline's with all the avidity
he had exhibited while consuming what Augustine had done for him.
    Constance's scene had heated the company's imagination, for it had been
a long time since Messieurs had indulged themselves in such extravagances
so early in the morning. Dinner conversation dealt with moral science. The
Duc declared he could not understand why in France the law smote so heavily
against libertinage, since libertinage, by keeping the citizens busy, kept
them clear of cabals and plots and revolutions; the Bishop observed that,
no, the laws did not exactly aim at the suppression of libertinage, but at
its excesses. Whereupon the latter were analyzed, and the Duc proved that
there was nothing dangerous in excess, no excess which could justly arouse
the government's suspicion, and that, these facts being clear, the official
attitude was not only cruel but absurd; what other word was there to
describe bringing artillery to bear upon mosquitoes?
    From remarks they progressed to effects, the Duc, half-drunk, abandoned
himself in Zephyr's arms, and for thirty long minutes sucked that lovely
child's mouth while Hercule, exploiting the situation, buried his enormous
engine in the Duc's anus. Blangis was all complacency, and without
stirring, without the flicker of an eyelash, went on with his kissing as,
virtually without noticing it, he changed sex. His companions all gave
themselves over to other infamies, and then they sallied forth to coffee.
As they had just played a multitude of silly little pranks, the atmosphere
was calm, and this was perhaps the one coffee hour during the entire four
months' outing when no fuck was shed. Duclos was already upon the tribune,
awaiting the company; when everyone had taken his place, she addressed her
auditors in this wise:
    I had recently suffered a loss in my house, and it had a deep effect
upon me in every sense. Eugenie, whom I loved with a passion and who,
thanks to her most extraordinary complaisance in whatever was connected
with the possibility of earning me money, had been especially useful to me,
Eugenie, I say, had just been spirited away. It happened in the strangest
fashion: a domestic, having first paid the price settled upon, came to
conduct her, so he said, to a supper that was to be held outside the city;
her participation in the affair would be worth seven or eight louis. I was
not at the house at the time the transaction took place, for I should never
have allowed her to leave with someone I didn't know, but the domestic
applied directly to her and she agreed to go. . . . I have never seen her
since.
    "Nor shall you ever again," said Desgranges. "The party proposed was
her last one, and it will be my agreeable task to add the denouement to
that lovely girl's history."
    "Great God!" cried Duclos. "She was so beautiful, that girl . . . only
twenty, her face was so sweet, she was so delicate. . . ."
    "And, one might add, her body was the most superb in Paris," Desgranges
said. "All those charms conspired to her undoing, but go on with what you
were saying, let's not become mired down in circumstances."
    Lucile was the girl who took her place, Duclos continued, both in my
heart and in my bed, but not in the household's activities, for she had not
by any means Eugenie's submissive temper nor her great understanding.
    All the same, it was to her hands I entrusted, not long afterward, that
certain Benedictine prior who used to pay me a visit now and again, and who
had in past times been wont to frolic with Eugenie. After the good father
had warmed her cunt with his tongue and thoroughly sucked her mouth, the
major phase of the process began: Lucile took the whip and plied it lightly
over his prick and balls, and he discharged from a limp machine; the gentle
rubbing, the mere application of the lash produced his orgasm. His greatest
pleasure used to consist in watching the girl slash with her whip at the
drops of fuck as they spattered from his prick.
    The next day, I myself took charge of a gentleman upon whose bare
behind one had to lay one hundred carefully counted whip strokes; before
his beating he prepared himself by kissing one's behind and while being
lashed he frigged himself.
A third, with whom I had dealings some time later, had even heavier demands
to satisfy; he also gilded each detail with additional ceremony: I received
notice of his intended arrival a week in advance, and during that time I
had to avoid washing any part of my body, and above all was to spare my
cunt, my ass, my mouth; and furthermore, as soon as I learned he was to
come, I selected three cat-o'-nine-tails and immersed them in a pot full of
mixed urine and shit, and kept the whips soaking there until he presented
himself. He was an elderly collector of the salt tax, a man of considerable
means, a widower, without children, and he treated himself to such parties
all the time. The first thing that interested him was to determine whether
I had scrupulously abstained from ablutions, as he had enjoined me; I
assured him I had followed his instructions to the letter; he wished proof,
and began by applying a kiss to my lips. This experience must have
convinced him, for he then suggested we go up to the room, and I realized
that had he, upon kissing me, discovered I had cleansed my mouth in any way
at all, he would not have wished to continue with the party. We go up
together, as I say, he regards the whips steeping in the pot, then, bidding
me undress, he sets to sniffing every part of my body, above all the
orifices he had expressly forbidden me to wash; as I had honored his
prescription in perfect faith and in every article, he doubtless discovered
the aroma he desired to be there, for I saw him grow restless, appear
anxious to be off, and heard him exclaim: "Ah, by fuck, that's what I want,
that's just what I want!" I proceeded to fondle his ass: it was sheathed in
what positively resembled boiled leather in color, texture, and toughness.
After having spent a minute caressing, handling, poking about those
gnarled, storm-beaten hindquarters, I seized a cat-o'-nine-tails and,
without drying it, I gave him ten stinging cuts, putting all my strength
into the blows; but this beginning produced not a tremor, he not only
remained impassive, but my blows put not so much as the faintest scratch
upon that unshakable citadel. Having opened with this prologue, I sank
three of my fingers into his anus, took firm hold, and began to rattle him
with might and main, but our man was insensible to the same degree here as
elsewhere; my struggles failed to be acknowledged by so much as a sigh.
These two initial ceremonies completed, his turn came to act; I lay belly
down upon the bed, he knelt, spread my buttocks, and alternately shot his
pilgrim tongue into this hole and into the other, and they, one may be
sure, were, in keeping with his instructions, not entirely unaromatic.
After he had done considerable sucking, I took up another whip, laid on a
second time and socratized him again, he knelt as before and returned to
his licking, and so it went, each of us doing his part at least fifteen
times over. Finally, giving me further instructions and bidding me guide my
movements in consonance with the state of his prick, which I was to observe
carefully but which I was not to touch, when next he knelt I unleashed my
turd. It shot squarely into his face, he fell back, exclaimed that I was an
insolent creature, and discharged while frigging himself and while uttering
cries that might have been heard in the street had I not taken the
precaution of drawing the shutters. But the turd fell to the floor, he did
naught but stare at and smell it, neither putting it in his mouth nor even
touching it; he had received at least two hundred lashes, and I may assure
you . . . his body bore not a trace of what it had sustained, his horny
ass, fortified by years of rude usage, betrayed not the least mark.
    "Well, by God's bum button!" chortled the Duc, "there's an ass,
President, worth as much as the curiosity you drag about."
    "Oh yes, yes," said Curval, a stammer in his voice, for Aline was
frigging him, "yes indeed, that fellow seems to have both my buttocks and
my tastes, for, you know, I am infinitely opposed to the use of the bidet,
but I prefer a longer abstinence: I usually set the period at a minimum of
three months."
    "President, your prick's stiff," the Duc said.
    "Do you think so?" Curval replied. "Faith, you'd best consult Aline
here, she'll be able to tell you what's what, as for myself, you know, I'm
so accustomed to that particular state of affairs that I rarely notice when
it ends or when it begins. There is only one thing I can tell you with
complete confidence, and that is that at this very moment I'd hugely like
to have my hands upon a very impure whore; I'd like her to present me with
a bucketful of shit, fill a bowl to above the rim, I'd like her ass to
stink from shit, I'd like her cunt to smell like a beach covered with dead
fish. But hold! Therèse, O thou whose filth is as old as the hills, thou
who since baptism hast not wiped thine ass, and whose infamous cunt breeds
a pestilence three leagues on every side, come bring all that to my nose's
delectation, I beg thee, and to that put a fine wet turd, if 'twould please
thee."
    Therèse approaches, with foul and evil charms, with parts disgusting
and withered and wounded she rubs the magistrate's face, upon his nose she
excretes the desired turd, Aline does frig amain, the libertine discharges,
and Duclos therewith resumes the story she has to tell.
    An elderly rascal, who used to receive a new girl every day for the
operation I am going to describe, besought one of my friends to persuade me
to visit him, and at the same time I was given information about the
ceremony regularly performed at the lecher's home. I arrive, he examines me
with a phlegmatic glance, the kind of glance one encounters among habitual
libertines, and which in an instant arrives at an infallible estimate of
the object under scrutiny.
    "I have been told you have a fine ass," said he in a drawling tone,
"and as for the past sixty years I have had a decided weakness for fine
cheeks, I should like to see whether there is any foundation to your
reputation . . . lift your skirts."
    That last phrase, energetically spoken, sufficed as an order; not only
did I offer a view of the treasure, but I moved it as near as possible to
his connoisseur's nose. At first I stand erect, then little by little I
bend forward and exhibit the object of his devotion in every form and
aspect most apt to please him. With each movement, I feel the old
scoundrel's hands wander over the surface, scouting the terrain, probing
the geography, sometimes creating a more consolidated effect, sometimes
attempting to give it a more generous cast, compressing here, broadening
there.
    "The hole is ample, very ample," says he, "appearances attest a furious
sodomistical prostitution."
    "Alas, Monsieur," I concede, "we are living in an age when men are so
capricious that in order to please them, one must indeed be prepared for
virtually anything, and consent to it all."
    Whereupon I feel his mouth glue itself hermetically to my asshole, and
his tongue strive to penetrate into the chasm; I seize my opportunity, as I
have been advised, and profiting from my situation, slide out, directly
upon his probing tongue, the warmest, most humid, densest eructation. The
maneuver displeases him not at all, but on the other hand does little to
animate him; finally, after I have unleashed half a dozen winds, he gets to
his feet, leads me to his bed, and points to an earthenware crock in which
four cat-o'-nine-tails are marinating. Above the crock hang several whips
suspended from gilded hooks.
    "Arm yourself," murmurs the roue, "take a cat-o'-nine-tails and one of
those other weapons, here is my ass. As you observe, it is dry, lean, and
exceedingly well seasoned. Touch it."
    I do so; he continues:
    "You notice," says he, "that it's old, toughened by severe treatment,
and it's not to be warmed save by the most incredibly excessive attacks. I
am going to keep myself in this posture," and while speaking he stretched
out upon the bed and rested his knees on the floor. "Employ those
instruments, first one, then the other, now the cat-o'-nine-tails, now the
whip. This is going to take a little time, but you will receive an
unequivocal sign when the climax approaches. As soon as you see something
out of the ordinary happening to this ass of mine, hold yourself in
readiness to imitate what you see it doing; we will then exchange places, I
shall kneel down before your splendid buttocks, you shall do what you shall
have observed me do, and I'll discharge. But above all do not become
impatient; I warn you once again: this business is not to be accomplished
in haste."
    I begin, I alternate weapons in accordance with the prescription. But,
my God! what nonchalance, what stoicism! I was drenched in sweat; that my
strokes be more freely applied he had suggested I roll my sleeves to above
the elbow. Three-quarters of an hour went by and I was still beating him,
putting every ounce of strength into my blows, sometimes tearing at his
stubborn flesh with the cat-o'-nine-tails, sometimes with the steel-tipped
thongs, three-quarters of an hour, I say, and it seemed as if I had got
nowhere. Still, silent, our lecher was as quiet as death; one might say he
was mutely savoring the interior stirrings of delight quickened by this
ordeal, but there was no outward sign of pleasure, not a single indication
of pleasure's influence even upon his skin. I proceeded. By and by I heard
a clock strike two and realized I had been at work three whole hours; then
all of a sudden I see his rump rise, his buttocks part, I slash and send my
thongs whistling between certain crevices; a turd emerges, falls, I whip
away, my blows send the shit flying to the floor.
    "Courage," I say to him, "we're within sight of port."
    And then my man gets up in a rage; his prick, hard and in fierce
revolt, is glued to his belly.
    "Do what I did," says he, "imitate me, I need nothing now but shit and
you'll have my fuck."
    I promptly adopt the position he has just abandoned, he kneels as he
said he would, and into his mouth I lay an egg which I have been holding in
store for him for three days. As he receives it his fuck leaps, and he
flings himself backward, shouting with joy, but without swallowing, and
indeed without keeping the turd in his mouth for more than a second. In
conclusion let me say, Messieurs, that, your Lordships excepted, for you
are without doubt superior examples of this species, I have seen few men
convulse more frantically, few who have manifested a more trenchant
delight; he came nigh to swooning as he gave vent to his fuck. That seance
was worth two louis.
    But no sooner did I return to the house than I found Lucile come to
grips with another old chap who, without having laid a finger upon her,
without any preliminaries, had simply ordered her to fustigate him from the
small of the back to just above the knees; Lucile was using a cat-o'-nine-
tails soaked in vinegar, was endowing her blows with all the force she
could muster, and this individual ended his ritual by having her suck him.
The girl knelt before him when he gave her the signal and, adjusting his
old weary balls so that they dangled upon her teats, she took the flabby
engine in her mouth whereinto the chastened sinner hastened to weep for his
transgressions.
    And Duclos having therewith put a period to what she had to relate that
day, and the supper hour not yet having arrived, Messieurs delivered
themselves of a few smutty comments while waiting.
    "You must be done up, President," gibed the Duc. "I've seen you
discharge twice today, and you're hardly accustomed to such feats of
liberality."
    "Let's wager on a third," replied Curval, who was pawing Duclos'
buttocks.
    "Why, certainly, as much as you like and as often," the Duc returned.
    "And I ask for only one condition," Curval said, "and that is to be
allowed to do whatever I like."
    "Oh, I'm afraid not," the Duc answered, "for you know very well that
there are certain things we have mutually promised not to do before the
appointed time indicated on our schedules: having ourselves fucked was one
of them - before proceeding to that we were, according to prior agreement,
to wait until some example of that passion were cited to us, but by your
common request, gentlemen, we ceded on that point and suspended the
restriction. There are many other pleasures and modes of taking them we
ought to have forbidden ourselves until the moment they were embodied in
story, and which we have instead tolerated, provided the experiments are
conducted in privacy - in, that is to say, either our closets or our
bedchambers. You, President, surrendered yourself to one with Aline just a
short while ago; did she utter that piercing scream for no reason at all?
and has she no motive for keeping her breast covered now? Very well then,
choose from amongst those mysterious modes, or from one of those we permit
in public, and I'll wager one hundred louis you'll not be able to derive
your third from one of those legitimate sources."
    The President then asked whether he might be allowed to repair to the
boudoir at the end of the corridor and to take along the subjects he deemed
necessary to success; his request was granted, although it was stipulated
that Duclos would have to be witness to the goings on, and that her word
would be accepted upon the existence of the discharge or upon Curval's
failure to produce it.
    "Agreed," said the President, "I accept the conditions."
    And by way of a preliminary, he had Duclos give him five hundred lashes
within view of the assembly; that accomplished, he led away his dear and
devoted friend Constance, in whose behalf his colleagues besought Curval to
do nothing which might damage her pregnancy; the President also took with
him his daughter Adelaide, Augustine, Zelmire, Celadon, Zephyr, Therèse,
Fanchon, Champville, Desgranges, Duclos, of course, and three fuckers
besides.
    "Why fuck my eyes!" exclaimed the Duc, "there was nothing in the
bargain that said he could recruit an army."
    But the Bishop and Durcet took the President's side in the matter of
manpower and firmly reminded Blangis that the terms of the wager included
no limitation upon numbers. The President led his band away, and at the end
of thirty minutes, an interval the Bishop, Durcet, and the Duc, with the
few subjects remaining to them, did not pass in holy orison, thirty minutes
later, I say, Constance and Zelmire returned in tears, and the President
reappeared soon afterward with the rest of his force; Duclos then related
the mighty things he had done, paid homage to his vigor, and certified that
in all fairness and justice he merited the crown of myrtle. The reader will
kindly allow us to suppress the text of Duclos' report, for the
architecture of our novel bids us conceal the precise circumstances of what
transpired in that remote boudoir; but Curval had won his wager, and that,
we consider, is the essential point.
    "These hundred louis," he remarked upon receiving them from the Duc,
"will be useful in paying a fine which, I fear, shall soon be levied upon
me."
    And here is still another thing the explanation of which we pray the
reader will permit us to postpone until the appropriate moment arrives; for
the time being he need but observe how that rascal Curval would anticipate
his misdeeds well in advance, and how, with unruffled calm, he would accept
the fact that they would bring down upon him certain and merited
punishment, a fatal necessity he faced unflinchingly and with a proud
smile.
    Between that time and the opening of the next day's narrations
absolutely nothing out of the ordinary transpired, and therefore we propose
to conduct the reader to the auditorium at once.




THE EIGHTEENTH DAY
    Beautiful, radiant, bejeweled, grown more brilliant with each passing
day, Duclos thus started the eighteenth session's stories:
    A tall and stoutly constructed creature named Justine had just been
added to my entourage; she was twenty-five, five feet six inches tall, with
the husky arms and solid legs of a barmaid, but her features were fine all
the same, her skin was clear and smooth, and she had as splendid a body as
one might wish. As my establishment used to be swarming with a crowd of
those old rakehells who are incapable of experiencing the faintest pleasure
save when heated by the lash or torture, I thought that a pensionnaire like
Justine, furnished as she was with the forearm of a blacksmith, could be
nothing but a very real asset. The day following her arrival, I decided to
put her fustigatory talents to the test; I had been given to understand she
wielded a whip with prodigious skill, and hence matched her against an old
commissar of the quarter whom she was to flog from chest to shin and then,
on the other side, from the middle of his back to his calves. The operation
over with, the libertine simply hoisted the girl's skirts and planted his
load upon her buttocks. Justine comported herself like a true heroine of
Cythera, and our good old martyr avowed to me afterward that I had got my
hands on a treasure, and that in all his days no one had ever whipped him
as that rascal had.
    To demonstrate how much I counted upon her contribution to our little
community, a few days later I arranged a meeting between Justine and an old
veteran of many a campaign on the fields of love; her required a round
thousand strokes all over his body, he would have no part of himself
spared, and when he was afire and nicely bloodied, the girl had to piss
into her cupped hand and smear her urine over those areas of his body which
looked to be most seriously molested. This lotion rubbed on, the heavy
labor had to be begun again, then he would discharge, the girl would
carefully collect his fuck, once again using her cupped hand, and she would
give him a second massage, this time employing the balm wrung from his
prick. Another triumph for my new colleague, and every succeeding day
brought her further and more impassioned acclaim; but it was impossible to
exercise her arm on the champion who presented himself this time.
    This extraordinary man would have nothing of the feminine but womanish
dress: the wearer of the costume had to be a man; in other words, the roue
wanted to be spanked by a man got up as a girl. And what was the instrument
she had to use on him? Don't think for a moment he was content with a birch
ferule or even a cat, no, he demanded a bundle of osier switches wherewith
very barbarously one had to tear his buttocks. Actually, this particular
affair seeming to have somewhat of the flavor of sodomy, I felt I ought not
become too deeply involved in it; but as he was one of Fournier's former
and most reliable clients, a man who had been truly attached to our house
in fair weather and in foul, and who, furthermore, might, thanks to his
position, be able to render us some service, I raised no objections and,
having prettily disguised a young lad of eighteen who sometimes availed us
of his services and who had a very attractive face, I presented him, armed
with a handful of switches, to his opponent.
    And a very entertaining contest it was - you may well imagine how eager
I was to observe it. He began with a careful study of his pretended maiden,
and having found him, evidently, much to his liking, he opened with five or
six kisses upon the youth's mouth: those kisses would have looked peculiar
from three miles away; next, he exhibited his cheeks, and in all his
behavior and words seeming to take the young man for a girl, he told him to
fondle his buttocks and knead them just a little rigorously; the lad, whom
I had told exactly what to expect, did everything asked of him.
    "Well, let's be off," said the bawd, "ply those switches, spare not to
strike hard."
    The youth catches up the bundle of withes and therewith, swinging right
merrily, lays fifty slashing blows upon a pair of buttocks which seem only
to thirst for more; already definitely marked by those two score and ten
stripes, the libertine hurls himself upon his masculine flagellatrice,
draws up her petticoats, one hand verifies her sex, the other fervently
clutches her buttocks, he knows not which altar to bow down before first,
the ass finally captures his primary attentions, he glues his mouth to its
hole, much ardor in his expression. Ah, what a difference between the
worship Nature is said to prescribe and that other which is said to outrage
her! O God of certain justice, were this truly an outrage, would the homage
be paid with such great emotion? Never was woman's ass kissed as was that
lad's; three or four times over his lover's tongue entirely disappeared
into the anus; returning to his former position at last, "O dear child,"
cried he, "resume your operation."
    Further flagellation ensued, but as it was livelier, the patient met
this new assault with far more courage and intrepidity. Blood makes its
appearance, another stroke brings his prick bounding up, and he engages the
young object of his transports to seize it without an instant's delay.
While the latter manipulates him, he wishes to render the youth the same
service, lifts up the boy's skirts again, but it's a prick he's now gone in
quest of; he touches it, grasps, shakes, pulls it, and soon introduces it
into his mouth. After these initial caresses, he calls for a third round of
blows and receives a storm of them. This latest experience puts him in a
perfect tumult; he flings his Adonis upon the bed, lies down upon him,
simultaneously toys with his own prick and his companion's, then presses
one upon the other, glues his lips to the boy's mouth and, having succeeded
in warming him by means of these caresses, he procures him the divine
pleasure at the same moment he is overwhelmed himself: both discharge in
harmony. Enchanted by the scene, our libertine sought to placate my risen
indignation, and at last coaxed a promise from me to arrange for further
delights in the same kind, both with that young fellow and with any others
I could find for him. I attempted to work at his conversion, I assured him
I had some charming girls who would be happy to flog him and who could do
so quite as well; no, said he, none of that, he would not so much as look
at what I had to offer him.
    "Oh, I can readily believe it," said the Bishop. "When one has a
decided taste for men, there's no changing, the difference between boy and
girl is so extreme that one's not apt to be tempted to try what is patently
inferior."
    "Monseigneur," said the President, "you have broached a thesis which
merits a two-hour dissertation."
    "And which will always conclude by giving further support to my
contention," said the Bishop, "because the fact that a boy is superior to a
girl is beyond doubt or dispute."
    "Beyond contradiction too," Curval agreed, "but nevertheless one might
still inform you that a few objections have been here and there raised to
your doctrine and that, for a certain order of pleasures, such as Martaine
and Desgranges shall discuss, a girl is to be preferred to a boy."
    "That I deny," said the Bishop with emphasis, "and even for such
pleasures as you allude to the boy is worth more than the girl. Consider
the problem from the point of view of evil, evil almost always being
pleasure's true and major charm; considered thus, the crime must appear
greater when perpetrated upon a being of your identical sort than when
inflicted upon one which is not, and this once established, the delight
automatically doubles."
    "Yes," said Curval, "but that despotism, that empire, that delirium
born of the abuse of one's power over the weak. . . ."
    "But the same is no less true in the other case," the Bishop insisted.
"If the victim is yours, thoroughly in your power, that supremacy which
when using women you think better established than when using men, is based
upon pure prejudice, upon nothing, and results merely from the custom
whereby females are more ordinarily submitted to your caprices than are
males. But give up that popular superstition for a moment, view the thing
equitably and, provided the man is bound absolutely by your chains and by
the same authority you exert over women, you will obtain the idea of a
greater crime; your lubricity ought hence to increase at least twofold."
    "I am of the Bishop's mind," Durcet joined in, "and once it is certain
that sovereignty is fully established, I believe the abuse of power more
delicious when exercised at the expense of one's peer than at a woman's."
    "Gentlemen," said the Duc, "I should greatly prefer you to postpone
your discussions until mealtime. I believe these hours have been reserved
for listening to the narrations, and it would seem to me proper were you to
refrain from employing them upon philosophical exchanges."
    "He is right," said Curval. "Go on with your story, Duclos."
    And that agreeable directress of Cytherean sport plunged again into the
matter she had to relate.
    Another elderly man, said she, this one a clerk at parliament, paid me
a call one morning, and as during Fournier's administration he had been
accustomed to dealing exclusively with me, tradition bade him solicit an
interview with me now. Our conference consisted in slapping his face with
gradually increasing force, and in frigging him the while; that is to say,
one had at first to slap him gently, then, as his prick assumed
consistency, one slowly augmented the force of one's blows, and finally a
series of truly bone-shattering cuffs would provoke his ejaculation. I had
so well apprehended the precise nature of his eccentricity that my
twentieth slap brought his fuck springing out.
    "The twentieth, you say? Why, by Jesus," exclaimed the Bishop, "my
prick would have gone dead limp by the third."
    "There you are, my friend," the Duc declared, "to each his own peculiar
mania, we ought never blame nor wonder at another's; tolerance, I say. Say
on, Duclos, give us one more and have done."
    My last example for the evening, said Duclos, originally was told to me
by one of my friends; she had been living for two years with a man whose
prick never stiffened until one had first bestowed a score of fillips upon
his nose and tweaked it, pulled his ears till they bled, and bitten his
buttocks, chewed his prick, nipped his balls. Aroused by these potent
preliminary titillations, his prick would shoot aloft like a stallion's,
and while swearing like a demon he'd almost always discharge upon the
visage of the girl at whose hands he had been receiving this exhilarating
treatment.
    Of all that had been recounted during that afternoon's sitting, only
the masculine fustigations had affected their Lordships' brains which, now
passing hot, were only cooled after prolonged use of the fantasy which had
fired their enthusiasm; thus it was the Duc had Hercule flog him until
blood seeped from his pores, Durcet employed Invictus to the same effect,
the Bishop made use of Antinoüs, and Bum-Cleaver ministered to Curval. The
Bishop, who had done nothing that day, did finally discharge at the orgies,
they say, while eating the turd Zelamir had been preparing for forty-eight
hours. And then they went to bed.




THE NINETEENTH DAY
    That morning, after having made some observations upon the shit the
subjects were producing for lubricious purposes, the friends decided that
the society ought to try something Duclos had spoken of in her narrations:
I am referring to the suppression of bread and soup from all the tables
save Messieurs'. These two articles were withdrawn, and replaced by twice
the former quantity of fowl and game. They hoped to remark some
improvement, and in less than a week an essential difference in the
community's excrements was indeed perceived: they were more mellow, softer,
dissolved more readily, had an infinitely more subtle flavor, and the
friends discovered that d'Aucourt's advice to Duclos had been that of a
consummate libertine thoroughly penetrated with an appreciation of such
matters. It was pointed out, however, that this new diet might have some
effect upon breaths:
    "Well, what does that matter?" asked Curval, to whom the Duc had
addressed his objection; "'tis very faulty reasoning to maintain that, to
give pleasure, a woman's mouth or a youth's must be absolutely clean and
sweet smelling. Setting aside all idiosyncrasy for a moment, I most
willingly grant you that he who requires stinking breath and a foul mouth
is moved by depravation only, but for your part you must grant me that a
mouth entirely bereft of odor gives not the slightest pleasure when kissed.
There must always be some kind of spice to the thing, some flavor there,
for where's the joy if it's not stung alive? the joy's asleep, I say, and
it's only waked by a little filth. However clean may be the mouth, the
lover who sucks it assuredly does an unclean thing, and there is no doubt
at all in his mind that it is that very uncleanness that pleases him. Give
a somewhat greater degree of strength to the impulse and you'll want that
mouth to be impure. If it fall short of smelling of rot or the cadaver,
well, be patient, the taste will develop, but that it have nothing but an
odor of milk and honey or infancy, that, I tell you, is insufferable. And
so the diet we're going to subject them to will, at the worst, lead not at
all to corruption, but only to a certain alteration, and that is all that's
necessary."
    The morning searches brought nothing to light . . . the youngsters were
keeping strict watch over their conduct. No one requested toilet
permission, and the company sat down at table. Adelaide, one of the
servants at the meal, having been enjoined by Durcet to fart in a champagne
glass, and having been unable to comply, was directly entered in the fatal
book by her unfeeling husband who, since the beginning of the week, had
been continually endeavoring to find her at fault.
    Coffee came next; it was handed round by Cupidon, Giton, Michette, and
Sophie. The Duc thigh-fucked Sophie, and while so doing had her shit upon
his hand; the nobleman took that pretty little packet and smeared it over
his face, the Bishop did precisely the same thing with Giton and Curval
with Michette, but as for Durcet, he popped his little device into
Cupidon's mouth as that charming boy squeezed out his turd. There were,
notwithstanding, no discharges and, having risen from their nap, Messieurs
went to hear Duclos.
    A man we had never seen previously, said that amiable whore, came to
the house and proposed a rather unusual ceremony: he wished to be tied to
one side of a stepladder; we secured his thighs and waist to the third rung
and, raising his arms above his head, tied his wrists to the uppermost
step. He was naked. Once firmly bound, he had to be exposed to the most
ferocious beating, clubbed with the cat's handle when the knots at the tips
of the cords were worn out. He was naked, I repeat, there was no need to
lay a finger upon him, nor did he even touch himself, but after having
received a savage pounding his monstrous instrument rose like a rocket, it
was seen to sway and bounce between the ladder's rungs, hovering like a
pendulum and, soon after, impetuously launch its fuck into the middle of
the room. He was unbound, he paid, and that was all.
    The following day he sent us one of his friends whose buttocks and
thighs, member and balls had to be pricked with a golden needle. Not until
he was covered with blood did he discharge. I handled that commission
myself, and as he constantly shouted to me to thrust deeper, I had almost
to bury the needle in his glans before seeing his fuck squirt into my palm.
As he unleashed it, he thrust his face against mine, sucked my mouth
prodigiously, and that was all there was to it.
    A third - and he too was an acquaintance of his two predecessors -
ordered me to flail every bit of his body with nettles. I soon had him
streaming blood, he eyed himself in a mirror, and it was not before he saw
his body reduced to a scarlet shambles that he let fly his fuck, without
touching anything, fondling anything, without requiring anything else of
me.
    Those excesses entertained me hugely, I took a secret delight in
participating in them; and all my whimsical clients were equally delighted
with me. It was at about the period of those three scenes that a Danish
nobleman, having been sent to me for pleasure parties of a very different
character, which others have been designated to discuss, had the imprudence
to arrive at my establishment with ten thousand francs in diamonds, as much
in other gems, and five hundred louis in cash. The prize was too handsome
to be allowed to get away; between the two of us, Lucile and I managed to
rob the Dane of his last sou. He thought to lodge a complaint, but as I
used to pay a heavy bribe to the police, and as in those days one did just
about whatever one pleased with gold, the gentleman was ordered to put a
stop to his wailing, and his belongings became mine, or rather most of them
did, for, in order to assure myself of little clear title to that treasure,
I had to yield a few precious stones to the minions of the law. Never have
I committed a theft, and I would have you remark this interesting fact,
without encountering some stroke of good fortune the next day; this latest
windfall was a new client, but one of those daily clients one may truly
consider a brothel's bread and butter.
    This individual was an old courtier who, weary of the homages he used
unendingly to receive in the palaces of kings, like to visit whores and
enjoy a change of role. He wanted to start with me; very well, said I, and
we began without further ado. I had to make him recite his lessons and
recite his little speeches, and every time he made a mistake, he had to get
down on his knees and receive, sometimes on his knuckles, sometimes on his
behind, vigorous blows of a leathern ferule such as the regents use in
schoolrooms. It was also my task to keep a sharp eye out for signs of
emotion; once the fire had been lit, I would snatch up his prick and shake
it skillfully, scolding him all the while, calling him a little libertine,
a very scurvy fellow, a worry to His Majesty, and other childish names
which would cause him to come very voluptuously. The identical ceremony was
to be executed five times each week at my establishment, but always with a
different and properly instructed girl, and for this service I received a
stipend of twenty-five louis per month. I knew so many women in Paris I had
no trouble promising him what he asked and keeping my word; I had that
charming pupil in my house for a decade, toward the end of which period he
decided to pack his bags and go off to pursue his studies in hell.
    However, I too was aging with the passing years, and although I had the
kind of face which retains its beauty, I was beginning to notice that my
visitors were men more and more often conveyed to me by whim and accident.
I still had some staunch and dependable suitors even at thirty-six, and the
rest of the adventures in which I took a hand belong to the period between
that time and my fortieth year.
    Though thirty-six years old, as I say, the libertine, whose mania I am
going to relate in closing today's session, would have nothing to do with
anyone else. He was an abbot of sixty or thereabouts, for I received no one
but gentlemen of a certain age, and every woman who would like to seek her
fortune in our trade will doubtless see fit to impose the same rules
barring irresponsible youth from her house. The holy man arrives, and as
soon as we are closeted together he begs to see my bum.
    "Ah, yes, there's the world's finest ass," he says admiringly. "But,
unfortunately, that is not the apparatus which is to provide me with the
pittance I intend to consume. Here, take hold," says he, putting his
buttocks into my hands, "that's the source whence all good things do come.
. . . Be so kind as to help me shit."
    I bring up a porcelain pot and place it upon my knees, the abbot backs
toward me, stoops, I press his anus, pry it open, and, to be brief, agitate
it in every way I think likely to hasten his evacuation. It takes place, an
enormous turd fills the bowl, I offer it to its author, he seizes it,
precipitates himself upon it, devours it, and discharges after fifteen
minutes of the most violent flogging which I administer upon the same
behind that shortly before laid such a splendid egg for his breakfast. He
swallowed it all; he had so nicely judged the situation that his sperm did
not appear until the last mouthful vanished. All the while I plied my whip,
I excited him with steady stream of comments such as: "Well, then, little
rascal, what's this?" and, "Why, here's a nasty little chap, can you really
eat shit that way?" and, "I'll teach you, you funny little whoreson
bastard; perform such disgraceful things, will you?"
    And it was by dint of these actions and speeches that the libertine
attained the summit of joy.
    At this point, Curval was moved to give the company a before-supper
demonstration in fact of what Duclos had described in words. He summoned
Fanchon, she extracted shit from him, and the libertine devoured it while
the old sorceress drubbed him with all the strength of her skinny but
sinewed arm. That lubric exhibition having inspired his confreres, they
began hunting for shit wherever any might be found, and then Curval, who
had not discharged, mixed the rest of his turd with Therèse's, whom he had
excrete without further ado.
    The Bishop, accustomed to making use of his brother's delights, did the
same thing with Duclos, the Duc with Marie, little Durcet with Louison. It
was atrocious, why, it was unthinkable to employ such decrepit old horrors
when such pretty objects stood ready at one's beck and call; but, oh how
well 'tis known, satiety is born in the arms of abundance, and when in the
very thick of voluptuous delights one takes an even keener pleasure in
torments.
    These unclean stunts over and done with, and the doing having cost only
one discharge, and 'twas the Bishop who produced it, the friends went to
table. Having involved themselves in a series of foul activities, they
thought best not to change horses in midstream, and for the orgies would
have only the four old duennas and the four storytellers; everyone else was
packed off to bed. Their Lordships said so many things, did so many more,
that all four came like geysers, and our libertine quartet did not retire
until overcome with drink and exhaustion.




THE TWENTIETH DAY
    Something very humorous indeed had occurred the night before:
absolutely drunk, the Duc, instead of gaining his bedchamber, had installed
himself in young Sophie's bed, and despite all the child could say, for she
knew perfectly well what he was doing violated the rules, he would not be
budged, and continued with great heat to maintain he was damned well where
he belonged, namely, in his bed with Aline, who was listed as his wife for
the night. But as he was allowed certain privileges with Aline which were
still forbidden with the little girls, when he sought to put Sophie in the
posture that favored the amusements of his choice, and when the poor child,
to whom no one had as yet ever done such a thing, felt the massive head of
the Duc's prick hammer at her young behind's narrow gate and contrive to
batter a thoroughfare, the poor little creature fell to uttering dreadful
screeches, and, leaping up, fled naked about the room. The Duc followed
hard on her heels, swearing like a demon, still mistaking her for Aline.
"Buggress!" he roared, "dost think it the first time?" And fancying he has
overtaken her and has her at last, he falls upon Zelmire's bed, thinking it
his own, and embraces that little girl, supposing Aline has decided to
behave reasonably. The same proceedings with Zelmire as a moment ago with
Sophie, because the Duc most decidedly wishes to attain his objective; but
immediately Zelmire perceives what he is about, she imitates her companion
and duplicates her resistance, pronounces a terrible scream, and leaps
away.
    However, Sophie, the first to take to flight, collects her wits and,
seeing full well that there is but one way to put an end to this quid pro
quo, sets off in search of light and some cool-headed individual capable of
restoring order, and consequently she thinks to look for Duclos. But Duclos
had behaved like a pig at the orgies and got herself blind drunk, Sophie
comes upon her stretched out unconscious in the middle of the Duc's bed,
and fails absolutely to bring her to her senses. Desperate, knowing not to
whom under such circumstances she may apply, hearing all her comrades
calling for help, she gathers up courage and enters Durcet's apartment; the
financier is lying with his daughter, Constance, and Sophie blurts out what
has been happening. Constance at any rate did rise from the bed, despite
the efforts the drunken Durcet made to restrain her by saying he wanted to
discharge; she took a candle and accompanied Sophie to the girls' chamber:
she discovered the poor little dears, all in their nightgowns, clustered in
the center of the room, and the Duc pursuing now one of them, now another,
still persuaded he was dealing with no one but Aline, whom he swore was
become a witch that night and had many shapes. Constance finally showed him
his error, and entreating him to allow her to guide him back to his room,
where, she assured him, he would find a very submissive Aline only too
eager to do all he chose to demand of her, the Duc who, thoroughly besotted
and acting as always in the very best of faith, really had no other design
than to plant his staff in Aline's ass, let himself be taken to her; that
lovely girl was there to greet him, and he went to bed; Constance withdrew
from the room, and calm was restored generally.
    They laughed very heartily all the next day over that nocturnal
adventure, and the Duc declared that if, by great misfortune, he were in
such a case to happen all accidentally to obliterate a maidenhead, he would
not, so it seemed to him, be liable or justly subject to a fine because,
intoxicated, he could not be held accountable for his actions; but, oh no,
the others assured him, he was mistaken in that, he would indeed have to
pay.
    They breakfasted amidst their sultanas as usual, and all the little
girls avowed they'd been furiously afraid. Not one, however, was found at
fault despite the night's alarms; similarly, everything was in order in the
boys' quarters, and coffee, like dinner, offering nothing extraordinary,
they passed into the auditorium where Duclos, entirely set to rights after
the previous evening's riot, amused the company with the following five
episodes:
    It was once again I, Messieurs, who went on the stage in the play I am
about to describe to you. The other person in the drama was a medical man;
the doctor's first act was to examine my buttocks, and as he came to the
conclusion they were superb, he spent more than an hour doing nothing but
kissing them. He at last confessed his little foibles: they were all
connected with shit and shitting, as I had surmised, and knowing what was
expected of me, I adopted the appropriate posture. I filled the white
porcelain pot I used to employ for this sort of enterprise. Immediately he
is the master of my turd, he raises it to his mouth and begins tucking it
away; he has no sooner taken a bite than I pick up a bull's pizzle - that
was the instrument wherewith I was to caress his bum - I shout threats and
imprecations at him, then strike, scold him for the dreadful things he is
wont to do, the infamous things, and without heeding me, the libertine
swallows the last mouthful, discharges, and is off with the speed of light,
having tossed a louis onto the table.
    Shortly afterward another came to the house, and I entrusted him to
Lucile, who had truly to struggle to make him discharge. He had first of
all to be sure the turd that was to be served up to him originated with an
old beggar woman, and to convince him, I had to have the old crone operate
before his own eyes. I gave him a venerable dame of seventy, covered with
ulcers and wens and other signs of erysipelas, and whose last tooth had
fallen from her gums fifteen years before. "Good, that's excellent," said
he, "precisely the sort I need." Then, enclosing himself with Lucile and
the turd, that equally skillful, complacent, and determined girl had to
excite him to the point at which he would eat that very mature lump. He
sniffed it, stared at it, even touched it, but that was all, he could not
seem to make himself go further. Whereupon Lucile, having to resort to
something more persuasive than rhetoric, thrust the fire tongs into the
fire and, drawing them out red-hot, announced she proposed to burn his
buttocks if he did not obey her on the spot and eat his luncheon. Our man
trembles, has another try: the same disgust, he recoils. As good as her
word, Lucile lowers his breeches and, bringing to light an ass of very evil
aspect and scarred all over, discolored and withered by operations in this
same kind, she deftly singes his cheeks. The lecher swears, Lucile applies
her iron again, now scorches and finally produces a very definite and
sufficiently profound burn in the middle of his ass; pain screws him up to
resolution at last, he bites off a mouthful, additional burnings excite him
further, and little by little the work is completed. The downing of the
last nibble of shit coincided with his discharge, and I have seen
exceedingly few as violent; he emitted loud cries and screams, howled like
a wolf and rolled on the floor; I thought he had been seized by a frenzy or
an attack of epilepsy. Delighted with the patient understanding he had
encountered in our house, the libertine promised to be my regular customer,
provided I would give him the same girl but a different old woman each
time.
    "The more repulsive the source," said he, "the better you'll be paid
for the yield. You have simply no idea," he added, "to what lengths my
depravity carries me; I hardly dare acknowledge it to myself."
    Upon his recommendation, one of his friends visited us the next day,
and this individual's depravity carried him, in my opinion, a great deal
further, for instead of a relatively mild branding, he had to be soundly
beaten with red-hot tongs, and the author of the turd offered him had to be
the oldest, filthiest, most disgusting thief we could find. A degenerate
old valet of eighty, whom we had had in the house for ages, pleased him
wonderfully well for his operation, and, rolling his eyes, smacking his
lips, he gobbled up the old devil's turd while it was still warm and while
the good Justine, using tongs heated to such a temperature they could
hardly be held, thrashed his bum. And she was furthermore obliged to snatch
up great bits of his flesh with the instrument, and all but roast them.
    Another had his buttocks, belly, balls, and prick stabbed with a heavy
cobbler's awl, and all this with more or less the same circumstances, that
is to say, until he would eat a turd I presented to him in a chamber pot.
He was not, however, curious about the turd's origins.
    Messieurs, it is not easy to imagine to what lengths men are driven in
the delirium of their inflamed imaginations. Have I not beheld one who,
acting according to the same principles, required me to shower bone-
breaking blows of a cane upon him as he ate a turd which, before his own
eyes, he had us fish up out of the depths of the house's privy? and his
perfidious discharge did not flow into my mouth until he had devoured the
last spoonful of that foul muck.
    "Well, you know, everything's imaginable and even possible," said
Curval as he pensively fondled Desgranges' buttocks. "I am convinced one
can go still further than that."
    "Further?" said the Duc who at that moment was mauling the bare behind
of Adelaide, his wife for the day. "And what the devil would you have one
do?"
    "Worse!" replied Curval, something of a hiss in his voice. "It seems to
me one never sufficiently exploits the possible."
    "I entirely agree with the President," spoke up Durcet, then in the act
of embuggering Antinoüs, "and I have the feeling my mind is capable of
further improvements upon all those piggish stunts."
    "I think I know what Durcet means," said the Bishop who, for the time
being, was idle, or who rather had not yet begun to operate.
    "Well, what the devil does he mean?" the Duc demanded to know.
    Whereupon the Bishop stood up and went to Durcet's alcove; the two men
whispered together, the Bishop then moved on to where Curval was, and the
latter said, "That's it, exactly!" And then the Bishop spoke in the Duc's
ear.
    "By fuck!" His Highness exclaimed, "I'd never have thought of that
one."
    As these gentlemen said no more that might shed light on the thing, we
have no way of knowing just what Durcet did mean or what the Duc declared
he would never have thought of. And even were it that we knew, I believe we
would be well advised to keep knowledge of the thing strictly to ourselves,
at least in the interest of modesty, for there are an infinite number of
things one ought merely to indicate, prudent circumspection requires that
one keep a bridle on one's tongue; there are such things, are there not, as
chaste ears? one may now and again encounter them, and I am absolutely
convinced the reader has already had occasion to be grateful for the
discretion we have employed in his regard; the further he reads on more
secure shall be our claim to his sincerest praise upon this head, why, yes,
we feel we may almost assure him of it even at this early stage. Well,
whatever one may say, each one has his own soul to save, and of what
punishment, both in this world and in the next, is he not deserving who all
immoderately were to be pleased to divulge all the caprices, all the whims
and tastes, all the clandestine horrors whereunto men are subject when
their fancy is free and afire? 'twould be to reveal secrets which ought to
be sunk in obscurity for humanity's sake, 'twould be to undertake the
general corruption of manners and to precipitate his brethren in Jesus
Christ into all the extravagances such tableaux might feature in very
lively color and profusion; and God, Who seeth even unto the depths of our
hearts, this puissant God Who hath made heaven and earth and Who must one
day judge us, God alone knoweth whether we have any desire to hear
ourselves reproached by Him for such crimes.
    Messieurs put the finishing touches on several horrors they had begun;
Curval, to cite one example, had Desgranges shit, the others occupied
themselves with either that same distraction, or with some others not much
more improving, and their Lordships then went to supper. At the orgies,
Duclos having overheard the friends discussing the new diet we alluded to
earlier, whose purpose was to render shit more abundant and more delicate,
at the orgies, I say, Duclos noted that she was truly astonished to find
connoisseurs like themselves unaware of the true secret whereby turds are
made both very abundant and very tasty. Questioned about the measures which
ought to be adopted, she said that there was but one: the subject should be
given a mild indigestion; there was no need to make him eat what he did not
like or what was unwholesome, but, by obliging him to eat hurriedly and
between meals, the desired results could be obtained at once. The
experiment was performed that same evening: Fanny was waked - no one had
paid any attention to her, and she had gone to bed after supper - she was
immediately required to eat four large plain cakes, and the next morning
she furnished one of the biggest and most beautiful turds they had been
able to procure from her up until that time. Duclos' suggested system was
therefore approved, although they upheld their decision to do away with
bread; Duclos said they were well advised to be rid of it; the fruits
produced by her method, said she, would only be better. From that time on
not a day passed but they'd gently upset those pretty youngsters'
digestions in one way or another, and the results were simply beyond
anything you could imagine. I mention this in passing so that, should any
amateur be disposed to make use of the formula, he may be firmly persuaded
there is none superior.
    The remainder of the evening having brought nothing extraordinary,
everyone retired in order to be freshly rested for the following day's
wedding: the brilliant match to be made was destined to unite Colombe and
Zelamir, and this ceremony was to be the basis for celebrating the third
week's festival.


THE TWENTY-FIRST DAY
    Preparations for that ceremony were started early in the morning; they
were of the usual sort but, and I have no idea whether or not it was by a
stroke of chance, the inspection uncovered signs of the young bride's
misbehavior. Durcet declared he had found shit in her chamber pot; she
denied having put it there, asserting that, to cause her to be punished,
the duenna had come and done the thing during the night, and that
governesses often planted such evidence when they wished to embroil the
children in difficulties. Well, she defended herself very eloquently and to
no purpose whatever, for she was not carefully heard, and as her little
husband-to-be was already on the list, the prospect of correcting both of
them was the cause of great amusement.
    Nevertheless, the young bride and groom, once the mass had been said,
were conducted with much pomp to the salon where the ceremony was to be
completed before mealtime; they were both of the same age, and the little
girl was delivered naked to her husband, who was permitted to do whatever
he wanted. Is there any voice so compelling as example's? And where if not
in Silling were it possible to receive very bad examples and the most
contagious ones? The young man sped like an arrow to its mark, hopped upon
his little wife, and as his prick was greatly stiff, although not yet
capable of a discharge, he would inevitably have got his spear in her . . .
but mild as would have been the damage done her, the source of all
Messieurs' glory lay in preventing anything from harming the tender flower
they wished alone to pluck. And so it was the Bishop checked the lad's
impetuous career, and profiting from his erection, straightway thrust into
his ass the very pretty and already very well-formed engine wherewith
Zelamir was about to plumb his young spouse. What a disappointment for that
young man, and what a discrepancy between the old Bishop's slack-sprung
vent and the strait and tidy cunt of a little thirteen-year-old virgin! But
Zelamir was having to deal with people who were deaf to common-sense
arguments.
    Curval laid hands on Colombe and thigh-fucked her from in front while
licking her eyes, her mouth, her nostrils, in a word, her entire face.
Meanwhile, he must surely have been rendered some kind of service, for he
discharged, and Curval was not a man to lose his fuck over silly trifles.
    They dined, the wedded couple appeared at the meal and again in the
salon for coffee, which that day was served by the very cream of the
subjects, by, I wish to say, Augustine, Zelmire, Adonis, and Zephyr. Curval
wished to stiffen afresh, had absolutely to have some shit, and Augustine
shot him as fine an artifact as it were in human power to create. The Duc
had himself sucked by Zelmire, Durcet by Colombe, the Bishop by Adonis. The
last named shitted into Durcet's mouth after having dispatched the Bishop.
But no sign of fuck; it was becoming rare, they had failed to exercise any
restraint at the outset of the holiday, and as they realized the extreme
need of seed they would have toward the end, Messieurs were growing more
frugal. They went next to the auditorium where the majestic Duclos, invited
to display her ass before starting, exposed that matchless ensemble most
libertinely to the eyes of the assembly, and then began to speak:
    Here is still another trait of my character, Messieurs, said that
sublime woman; after having made you well enough acquainted with it, you
will be so kind as to judge what I intend to omit from what I am going to
tell you . . . and you will, I trust, dispense me from having to say more
about myself.
    Lucile's mother had just fallen into a state of the most wretched
poverty, and it was only by the most extraordinary stroke of chance that
this charming girl, who had received no news at all of her mother since
having fled her house, now learned of her extreme distress: one of our
street scouts - hard in pursuit of some young girl for a client who shared
the tastes and designs of the Marquis de Mesanges, for a client, that is to
say, who was eager to make an outright and final purchase - one of our
scouts came in to report to me, as I was lying in bed with Lucile, that she
had chanced upon a little fifteen-year-old, without question a maid,
extremely pretty, and, she said, closely resembling Mademoiselle Lucile;
yes, she went on, they were like two peas in a pod, but this little girl
she'd found was in such bedraggled condition that she'd have to be kept and
fattened for several days before she'd be fit to market. And thereupon she
gave a description of the aged woman with whom the child had been
discovered, and of the frightful indigence wherein that mother lay; from
certain traits, details of age and appearance, from all she heard
concerning the daughter, Lucile had a secret feeling the persons being
discussed might well be her own mother and sister. She knew she had left
home when the latter was still very young, hence it was hard to be sure of
the thing, and she asked my permission to go and verify her suspicions.
    At this point my infernal mind conceived a little horror; its effect
was to set my body afire. Telling the street scout to leave the room, and
being unable to resist the fury raging in my blood, I began by entreating
Lucile to frig me. Then, halting halfway through the operation:
    "Why do you want to go to see that old woman?" I asked Lucile; "what do
you propose to do?"
    "Why, but don't you see," said Lucile, whose heart was still
undeveloped, "there are certain things that one is expected to do . . . I
ought to help her if I can, and above all if she turns out to be my
mother."
    "Idiot," I muttered, thrusting her away from me, "go sacrifice alone to
your disgusting popular prejudices, and for not daring to brave them, go
lose the most incredibly fine opportunity to irritate your senses by a
horror that would make you discharge for a decade."
    Bewildered by my words, Lucile stared at me, and I saw I had to explain
this philosophy to her, for she apparently had not the vaguest
understanding of it. I therefore did lecture her, I made her comprehend the
vileness, the baseness of the ties wherewith they seek to bind us to the
author of our days; I demonstrated to her that for having carried us in her
womb, instead of deserving some gratitude, a mother merits naught but hate,
since 'twas for her pleasure alone and at the risk of exposing us to all
the ills and sorrows the world holds in store for us that she brought us
into the light, with the sole object of satisfying her brutal lubricity. To
this I added roughly everything one might deem helpful in supporting the
doctrine which same right-thinking dictates, and which the heart urges when
it is not cluttered up with stupidities imbibed in the nursery.
    "And what matters it to you," I added, "whether that creature be happy
or wretched? Does her situation have anything to do with yours? does it
affect you? Get rid of those demeaning ties whose absurdity I've just
proven to you, and thereby entirely isolating this creature, sundering her
utterly from yourself, you will not only recognize that her misfortune must
be a matter of indifference to you, but that it might even be exceedingly
voluptuous to worsen her plight. For, after all, you do owe her your
hatred, that has been made clear, and thus you would be taking your
revenge: you would be performing what fools term an evil deed, and you know
the immense influence crime exerts upon the senses. And so here are two
sources of pleasure in the outrages I'd like to have you inflict upon her:
both the sweet delights of vengeance, and those one always tastes whenever
one does evil."
    Whether it was that I employed a greater eloquence in exhorting Lucile
than I do in recounting the fact to you now, or whether it was because her
already very libertine and very corrupt spirit instantly notified her heart
of the voluptuous promise contained in my principles, she tasted them, and
I saw her lovely cheeks flush in response to that libertine flame which
never fails to appear every time one violates some prohibition, abolishes
some restraint.
    "All right," she murmured, "what are we to do?"
    "Amuse ourselves with her," said I, "and make some money at the same
time; as for pleasure, you can be sure to have some if you adopt my
principles. And as for the money, the same thing applies, for I can make
use of both your old gray-haired mother and your young sister; I'll arrange
two different parties which will prove very lucrative."
    Lucile accepts, I frig her the better to excite her to commit the
crime, and we turn all our thoughts to devising plans. Let me first
undertake to outline the first of them, since it deserves to be included in
the category of passions I have to discuss, although I shall have to alter
the exact chronology in order to fit it into the sequence of events, and
when I shall have informed you of this first part of my scheme, I shall
enlighten you upon the second.
    There was a man, well placed in society and exceedingly wealthy,
exceedingly influential and having a disorder of the mind which surpasses
all that words are able to convey; as I was acquainted with him only as the
Comte, you will allow me, however well advised of his full name I may be,
simply to designate him by his title. The Comte was somewhat above thirty-
five years of age, and all his passions had reached their maximum strength;
he had neither faith nor law, no god and no religion, and was above all
else endowed, like yourselves, Messieurs, with an invincible horror of what
is called the charitable sentiment; he used to say that to understand this
impulse was totally beyond his powers, and that he would not for an instant
assent to the notion that one dare outrage Nature to the point of upsetting
the order she had imposed when she created different classes of
individuals; the very idea of elevating one such class through the
bestowing of alms or aid, and thus of overthrowing another, the idea of
devoting sums of money, not upon agreeable things which might afford one
pleasure, but rather upon these absurd and revolting relief enterprises,
all this he considered an insult to his intelligence or a mystery his
intelligence could not possibly grasp. Thoroughly instilled, nay,
penetrated though he was with these opinions, he reasoned still further;
not only did he derive the keenest delight from refusing aid to the needy,
but he ameliorated what was already an ecstasy by outrageously persecuting
the humble and injured. One of his higher pleasures, for example, consisted
in having meticulous searches made of those dark, shadowy regions where
starving indigence gnaws whatever crust it has earned by terrible toil, and
sprinkles tears upon its meager portion. He would stiffen at the thought of
going abroad not only to enjoy the bitterness of those tears, but even . .
. but even to aggravate their cause and, if 'twere possible, to snatch away
the wretched substance that kept the damned yet amongst the living. And
this taste of his was no whim, no light fantasy, 'twas a fury; he used to
say that he knew no more piercing delight, nothing that could more
successfully arouse him, inflame his soul, than these excesses I speak of.
Nor was this rage of his, he one day assured me, the fruit of depravation;
no, he had been possessed by this mania since his youngest years, and his
heart, perpetually toughened against misery's plaintive accents, had never
conceived any gentler, milder feelings for it.
    As it is of the greatest importance you be familiar with the subject,
you must first of all know that the same man had three different passions:
the one I am going to relate to you, another, which Martaine will explain
to you later when she refers to this same personage, and a third, yet more
atrocious, which Desgranges will doubtless reserve for the end of her
contribution as doubtless one of the most impressive upon her list. But
we'll begin with the one on mine.
    Straightway I had informed the Comte of the nest of misery I had
discovered for him, of the inhabitants of that nest, he was transported
with joy. But it so happened that business intimately connected with his
fortune and having an important bearing upon his advancement, which he took
much care not to neglect, in that he held them vital to his misconduct,
business, I say, was going to occupy his attention for the next two weeks,
and as he did not want to let the little girl slip through his fingers, he
preferred sacrificing the pleasure the first scene promised him, and to be
certain of enjoying the second. And so he ordered me to have the child
kidnaped at whatever cost, but without delay, and to have her deposited at
the address he indicated to me. And in order to keep you in suspense no
longer, my Lords, that address was Madame Desgranges', for she was the
agent who furnished him with material for his third class of secret
parties. And now to return to the objects of all our maneuvering.
    So far, we had done little but locate Lucile's mother, both to set the
stage for the recognition scene between mother and daughter and to study
the problems associated with the kidnaping of the little girl. Lucile, well
coached in her part, only greeted her mother in order to insult her, to say
that it was thanks to her she had been hurled into libertinage, and to
these she added a thousand other similarly unkind remarks, which broke the
poor woman's heart and ruined the pleasure of rediscovering her daughter.
During this first interview, I thought I glimpsed the appropriate way to
talk with the woman, and pointed out to her that, having rescued her elder
child from an impure existence, I was willing to do as much for the younger
one. But the stratagem did not succeed, the poor wretch fell to weeping and
said that nothing in the world would induce her to part with the one
treasure she had left, that the little girl was her one resource, she
herself was old, infirm, that the child cared for her, and that to be
deprived of her would be to lose life itself. At this juncture, Messieurs,
I must confess, and I do so with shame, that I felt a faint stirring in the
depths of my heart; it advised me that my voluptuous pleasure was bound
only to be increased by the horrible refinements I was about to give to my
meditated crime, and having informed the old lady that shortly thereafter
her daughter would come to pay her a visit with a man of great influence,
who could perhaps render her great services, we left, and I bent all my
efforts to employing the lures and devices I usually relied upon to snare
game. I had carefully examined the little girl, she was worth my going to
some trouble: fifteen years of age, a pretty figure, a very lovely skin,
and very pretty features. She arrived three days later, and after having
examined every part of her body and found nothing but what was very
charming, dimpled, and very neat despite the poor nourishment she had for
so long had to put up with, I passed her along to Madame Desgranges: this
transaction marked the beginning of our commercial relations.
    His private affairs attended to, our Comte reappeared; Lucile conducts
him to her mother's home, and 'tis at this point begins the scene I wish to
describe. The old mother was found in bed, the room was without heat
although we were then in the midst of a bitterly cold winter; beside her
bed sat a wooden crock containing milk. The Comte pissed into the crock as
soon as he had entered. To prevent any possible trouble, and in order to
feel himself the undisputed master of the fort, the Comte had posted two of
his minions, a pair of strapping lads, on the stairway, and they were to
offer a stubborn obstacle to any undesirable coming up or going down.
    "My dear old buggress," intoned the Comte, "we have come here with your
daughter, you see her there, and a damned pretty whore she is, upon my
soul; we have come here, I say, to relieve what ails you, wretched old
leper that you are, but before we can help you, you must tell us what's
amiss. Well, go on, speak," he said, seating himself and beginning to
palpate Lucile's buttocks, "go on, I say, itemize your sufferings."
    "Alas!" said the good woman, "you come with that vixen not to help me
but to insult me."
    "Vixen? How's this," said the Comte, "you dare use insults with your
daughter? By God," he went on, rising to his feet and dragging the old
thing from her litter, "get out of that bed, get down on your knees, and
ask to be forgiven for the language you have just employed."
    There was no resist.
    "And you, Lucile, lift your skirts and have your mother kiss your
cheeks, and I am damned certain she wants nothing more than to kiss them,
eager as she must be for some kind of reconciliation."
    The insolent Lucile rubs her ass upon the seamed and wrinkled visage of
her dear old mother; overwhelming her with a tirade of playful epithets,
the Comte permits the poor woman to crawl back into bed, and then resumes
the conversation. "I tell you once again," he says, "that if you recite all
your troubles to me, I'll take the best care of you."
    The woe-ridden are credulous; and they love to lament. The old woman
made them privy to all her sufferings, and complained especially, with
great bitterness, of the theft of her daughter; she sharply accused Lucile
of having had a hand in it and of knowing where the child presently was,
since the lady with whom she had come a little while ago had proposed to
take her under her wing; that was the basis for her supposition (and there
was considerable logic in the way she argued) that this same lady had taken
her away. Meanwhile, the Comte, directly facing Lucile's ass, for by this
time he had got her to step out of her skirts, the Comte, I say, now and
again kissing that handsome ass and frigging himself uninterruptedly,
listened, put questions to her, requested details, and regulated all the
titillations of his perfidious lust according to the old woman's replies.
But when she said that the absence of her daughter, thanks to whose work
she was procure her wherewithal, was going to lead her gradually but
inexorably to the grave, since she had nothing and for four days had been
kept barely alive by that small quantity of milk he had just spoiled:
    "Why, then, bitch," said the Comte, aiming his prick at the old
creature and continuing to explore Lucile's buttocks, "why, then go ahead
and croak, you foul old whore, do you suppose the world will be any worse
off without you?"
    And as he concluded his question he loosed his sperm.
    "Were that to happen," he observed, "I believe I'd have only one
regret, and that would be not having myself hastened the event."
    But there was moreto it than that, the Comte was not the sort of a man
to be appeased by a mere discharge; Lucile, fully aware of the role she was
to play, now that he had been relieved, busied herself preventing the old
woman from noticing what he was about, and the Comte, rummaging through
every corner of the room, came upon a silver goblet, the last vestige of
the material well-being that had once upon a time been this poor wretch's;
he put the goblet in his pocket. This fresh outrage having put new hardness
into his prick, he again dragged the old woman from her bed, stripped her
naked, and bade Lucile frig him upon the matron's withered old frame. Once
again nothing could be done to stop him, and the villain darted his fuck
over that ancient flesh, redoubled his insults, and said that the poor
wretch could rest perfectly assured he was not yet done with her, and that
she would soon have news of himself and of her little girl who, he wished
to have her know, was in his power. He then proceeded to that last
discharge, his transports of lust were ignited by the horrors wherewith his
perfidious imagination was already in a ferment, by the ruin of the entire
family he was contemplating, and he left. But in order not to have to
return to this affair, hear, Messieurs, how I surpassed myself in villainy.
Seeing that he might have confidence in me, the Comte informed me of the
second scene he was preparing for the benefit of the old woman and her
little daughter; he told me he wanted the child brought to him without
delay and, as he wanted to reunite the whole family, he wished to have me
cede Lucile to him too, for he had been deeply moved by her lovely ass; he
made no effort to conceal that his purpose was to ruin Lucile as well as
her ass, together with her mother and sister.
    I loved Lucile. But I loved money even more. He offered me an unheard-
of price for these three creatures, I agreed to everything. Four days
later, Lucile, her little sister and her aged mother were brought together;
Madame Desgranges will tell you about that meeting. As for your faithful
Duclos, she continues and resumes the thread of her story this anecdote has
interrupted; indeed, she wonders whether she ought not have recited it at
some later time, for, esteeming it a very stirring episode, she considers
it would have proven a fitting climax to her contribution.
    "One moment," said Durcet, "I cannot hear such stories without being
affected, their influence upon me would be difficult to describe. I have
been restraining my fuck since the middle of the tale, kindly allow me to
unburden myself now."
    And he dashed into his closet with Michette, Zelamir, Cupidon, Fanny,
Therese, and Adelaide; several minutes later his shouts began to ring out,
and soon after the uproar started, Adelaide emerged in tears, saying that
all this made her very unhappy, and wondering why they had to excite her
husband with such dreadful stories; she who told them, Adelaide declared,
not others, ought by rights to be the victim. During the interim the Duc
and the Bishop had not wasted an instant, but the manner in which they
operated belonging to the class of procedures circumstances compel us still
to mask from the reader's view, we beg him to suffer the curtain to remain
down, and to allow us to move on to the four tales Duclos had yet to relate
before bringing this twenty-first meeting of the assembly to a close.
    A week after Lucile's departure, I handled a rascal blessed with a
rather curious mania. Warned several days in advance of his intended
arrival, I had let a great number of turds accumulate in my one-holed
chair, and I had induced one of my young ladies to add a few more to the
collection. Our man appeared costumed as a Savoyard rustic; 'twas in the
morning, he swept out my room, removed the pot from beneath the chair, and
went out to empty it (this emptying, I might note in parantheses, took a
considerable length of time); when he returned he showed me how carefully
he'd cleaned it out and asked for his payment. But, and this of course was
all stipulated in our prior agreement, instead of giving him a coin, I
seize the broom and fall to belaboring him with the handle.
    "Your payment, villain?" I cry, "why, here's what you deserve."
    And I bestow at least a dozen blows upon him. He seeks to escape me, I
pursue him, and the libertine, whose critical moment has arrived,
discharges all the way down the stairs, bawling out at the top of his voice
that they're cracking his skull, that they want to kill him, and that he's
got himself into the house of a scoundrel, she's not by any means the
honest woman he at first took her for, etc.
    Another carried, in a small pocket case, a little knotty stick which he
kept for an unusual purpose; he wanted me to insert the stick into his
urethral canal, and, having plunged it in to a depth of three inches, to
rattle it with utmost vigor, and with my other hand to pull back his
foreskin and frig his poor device. At the very instant he discharged, one
had to pull out the stick, raise one's skirts in front, and he would
discharge upon one's mound.
    Six months later I had to do with an abbot who wanted me to take a
burning candle and direct the drops of molten tallow so that they fell upon
his penis and balls; it required nothing more than the sensation this
ceremony produced to bring about his discharge. His machine required no
touching, but it remained limp throughout; before they would yield fuck,
his genitals had to be given such a heavy coating of wax that toward the
end there was no recognizing this strange object as a part of the human
anatomy.
    That ecclesiastic had a friend who loved nothing so much as to offer
his bum to be perforated by a multitude of gold pins, and when thus
decorated, his hindquarter far more resembling a pincushion than an
ordinary ass, he would sit down, the better to savor the effect he
cherished, and, presenting one's very wide-spread buttocks to him, he would
twiddle his member and discharge into one's vent.
    "Durcet," said the Duc, "I should very much like to see that sweet
chubby ass of yours studded all over with golden pins, ah yes, I'm
persuaded 'twould thus appear more interesting than ever."
    "Your Grace," quoth the financier, "you know that for forty years it
has been my glory and my honor to imitate you in all things; I but ask you
to have the kindness to set me an example, and you have my word that I will
follow it."
    "God's loin-scum!" exclaimed the good Curval, who had not until now
been heard from, "by His sacred seed, I do declare that story about Lucile
has made me stiff! I've held my peace, but my head's been at work none the
less. Look here," said he, exhibiting his prick standing high, "see whether
I do not say true. I've a furious impatience to hear the denouement of the
story of those three buggresses; I have the highest hope they'll meet one
another in a common grave."
    "Softly there, softly," said the Duc, "let's not anticipate events.
Were you not stiff, Monsieur le President, you'd not be in such a hurry to
hear talk of wheels and gibbets. You resemble a great many other of
Justice's servitors, whose pricks, they say, rise up every time they
pronounce the sentence of death."
    "Never mind the magistrature," Curval replied, "the fact remains that I
am enchanted by Duclos' doings, that I find her a charming girl, and that
her story of the Comte has put me in a dreadful state, and in this state, I
say, I could be easily persuaded to go abroad, stop a carriage on the
highway, and rob its occupants."
    "Ah, President, take care," said the Bishop; "keep a hand upon
yourself, my dear fellow, else we'll cease to be in safety here. One such
slip, and the least we could expect would be the noose for all of us."
    "The noose? Ah, the noose, yes . . . but not for us. However, I don't
for a minute deny I'd myself gladly condemn these young ladies here to be
hanged, and especially Madame la Duchesse, who's lying like a cow upon my
sofa and who, merely because she's got a spoonful of modified fuck in the
womb, fancies no one dares touch her any more."
    "Oh," said Constance, "'tis surely not with you I count upon being
respected because of my state. Your loathing for pregnant women is only too
notorious."
    "A prodigious loathing, isn't it?" said Curval with a chuckle, "why,
indeed it is prodigious."
    And, transported by enhusiasm, he was, I believe, on the verge of
committing some sacrilege against that superb belly, when Duclos
intervened.
    "Come, Sire, come with me," said she; "since 'tis I who have caused the
hurt, I'd like to repair it."
    And together they passed into the secluded boudoir, followed by
Augustine, Hebe, Cupidon, and Therèse. It was not long before the
President's braying resounded through the castle, and despite all Duclos'
attentions, little Hebe returned weeping from the hurlyburly; there was
even more to it than tears, but we dare not yet disclose just what it was
had set her to trembling. A little patience, friend reader, and we shall
soon hide nothing from your inquisitive gaze.
    And now Curval himself returns, grumbling between his teeth and
swearing that all those dratted laws prevent a man from discharging at his
ease, etc.; their Lordships sit down at table. After supper they withdrew
to mete out punishment for the misbehavior that had accrued during the
week, but the guilty were not that evening in great number: only Sophie,
Colombe, Adelaide, and Zelamir merited correction, and received it. Durcet,
who since the beginning of the evening had waxed very hot, and who had been
particularly inspired by Adelaide, granted her no quarter; Sophie, whom
they had detected shedding tears during the story of the Comte, was
punished for that misdemeanor as well as for her former one, and the Duc
and Curval, we understand, treated the day's little newlyweds, Zelamir and
Colombe, with a severity that almost bordered upon barbarity.
    The Duc and Curval, in splendid form and singularly wrought up, said
they had no wish to retire, and having had a quantity of beverages fetched
in, they passed the night drinking with the four storytellers and Julie,
whose libertinage, increasing every day, gave her the air of a very amiable
creature who deserved to be ranked among these objects for whom Messieurs
had some regard. The following morning, while making his rounds, Durcet
found all seven of them dead drunk. The naked girl was discovered lodged
between her father and her husband and in a posture which gave evidence of
neither virtue nor decency in libertinage; it was plain enough to the
financier that (to hold the reader in suspense no longer) they had both
enjoyed her simultaneously. Duclos, who, from all appearances, had
functioned as an instrument to this crime, lay sprawled near the compact
trio, and the others were strewn in a confused heap in the corner opposite
the fire, which someone had taken care to keep burning throughout the
night.




THE TWENTY-SECOND DAY
    As a result of these all-night bacchanals, exceedingly little was
accomplished on the twenty-second day of November; half the customary
exercises were forgot, at dinner Messieurs appeared to be in a daze, and it
was not until coffee they began to come somewhat to their senses. The
coffee was served them by Rosette and Sophie, Zelamir and Giton. In an
effort to return to his usual old self, Curval had Giton shit, and the Duc
swallowed Rosette's turd; the Bishop had himself sucked by Sophie, Durcet
by Zelamir, but no one discharged. They moved dutifully into the
auditorium; the matchless Duclos, weak and quesy after the preceding day's
excesses, took her place with drooping eyelids, and her tales were so
brief, they contained so few episodes, were recounted so listlessly, that
we have taken it upon ourselves to supply them, and in the reader's behalf
to clarify the somewhat confused speech she made to our friends.
    In keeping with prescription, she recounted five passions: the first
was that of a man who used to have his ass frigged with a tin dildo priorly
charged with warm water, the which liquid was pumped into his fundament at
the same instant he ejaculated; nothing else was required to obtain that
effect, he needed no one else's ministry.
    The second man had the same mania, but was wont to use a far greater
number of instruments; initially, he called for a very minute one, then
gradually increased the caliber, ascending the scale by small fractions of
an inch until he reached a weapon with the dimensions of a veritable
fieldpiece, and only discharged upon receiving a torrent from its muzzle.
    Far more of the mysterious was required to please the third one's
palate: at the outset of the game, he had an enormous instrument introduced
into his ass, then it was withdrawn, he would shit, would eat what he had
just rendered, and next he had to be flogged. The flogging administered, it
was time to reinsert the formidable device in his rectum, then once again
it was removed, and it was the whore's turn to shit, and after that she
picked up the whip again and lashed him while he munched what she had done;
a third time, yes, a third time the instrument was driven home, and that,
plus the girl's turd he finished eating, was sufficient to complete his
happiness.
    In her fourth tale, Duclos made mention of a man who would have all his
joints bound with strings; in order to make his discharge even more
delicious, his neck itself was compressed, and, half choking, he would
shoot his fuck squarely at the whore's asshole.
    And in her fifth, she referred to that individual who used to tie a
slender cord tightly to his glans; the girl, naked, would pass the other
end of the cord between her thighs, and walk away from him, drawing the
cord taut and offering the patient a full view of her ass; he would then
discharge.
    Truly exhausted after having fulfilled her task, the storyteller begged
to leave to retire, and she was allowed to. A few moments were devoted to
uttering smutty comments upon this and that, and then the four libertines
went to supper, but everyone felt the effects of our two principal actors'
disorderliness. At the orgies they were also as prudent and restrained as
'twere possible for such debauchees to be, and the entire household went
more or less quietly to bed.




THE TWENTY-THIRD DAY
    "But how is it possible to shout and roar the way you do when you
discharge?" the Duc demanded of Curval upon bidding him good morning on the
23rd. "Why the devil must you scream that way? I've never seen such violent
discharges."
    "Why, by God," Curval replied, "is it for you, whom one can hear a
league away, to address such a reproach to a modest man like myself? Those
little murmurs you hear, my good friend, are caused by my extremely
sensitive nervous system; the objects which excite our passions create such
a lively commotion in the electrically charged fluid that flows in our
nerves, the shock received by the animal spirits composing this fluid is of
such a degree of violence, that the entire mechanism is rattled by these
effects, and one is just as powerless to suppress one's cries when
overwhelmed by the terrible blows imparted by pleasure, as one would be
when assailed by the powerful emotions of pain."
    "Well, you define the thing very well, President, but what was the
delicate object that could have produced such a vibration in your animal
spirits?"
    "I was very energetically sucking Adonis' prick, his mouth, and his
asshole, for I was cast down with despair at not being able to do more to
my couch companion; all the while I made the best of my hard situation,
Antinoüs, seconded by your dear daughter Julie, labored, each in his own
way, to evacuate the liquor whose eventual outpouring occasioned the
musical sounds which, you say, struck your ears."
    "And it all worked so well that now, today," said the Duc, "you're as
weak as a baby."
    "No, your Grace, not at all," Curval declared; "deign but to observe my
career, my motions today, and but do me the honor of judging my style and
vehemence in sport, and you shall see me conduct myself quite as ever, and
assuredly as well as you yourself."
    They were at this point in the conversation when Durcet arrived to say
breakfast was being served. They passed into the qirls' quarters, where
those eight charming little houris were distributing cups of coffee and hot
water; the Duc therewith demanded to know of Durcet, the month's steward
and presiding officer, why was it the coffee was being served with water?
    "You'll have it with milk whenever you wish," said the financier.
"Would you prefer it thus now?"
    The Duc said that yes, he would.
    "Augustine, my dear," Durcet said, "a little milk in Monsieur le Duc's
cup, if you please."
    Thereupon the little girl, prepared for any eventuality, placed
Blangis' cup beneath her ass, and through her anus squeezed three or four
spoonfuls of milk, very clear and perfectly fresh. This cunning feat
produced much pleasant laughter, everyone requested milk in his coffee. All
the asses were charged in the same way Augustine's was: 'twas an agreeable
little surprise the month's director of games had thought to give his
colleagues. Fanny poured some into the Bishop's cup, Zelmire into Curval's,
and Michette into the financier's; the friends took a second round of
coffee, and the four other girls performed over these new cups the same
ceremony their comrades had over the first cups; and so on and on; the
whole thing entertained their Lordships immoderately. It heated the
Bishop's brain; he affirmed he wanted something beside milk, and the lovely
Sophie stepped forth to satisfy him. Although all eight definitely wished
to shit, they had been strongly urged to exercise self-restraint while
dispensing the milk, and this first time to yield absolutely nothing else.
    Next, they paid the little boys a good-morning visit; Curval induced
Zelamir to shit from him, the Duc applauded what Giton brought to light.
Two subaltern fuckers, Constance, and Rosette provided the spectacle in the
chapel latrine. Rosette was one of those upon whom the old formula for
promoting indigestion had beed tried out; at coffee, she had had the
world's worst time keeping her milk free of foreign ingredients, and now,
seated upon the throne, she released the most superb turd you could hope to
lay eyes upon. Duclos was congratulated, they said her system was a
resounding success, and from then on they used it every day; never once did
it fail them. The conversation at the dinner was enlivened by the
breakfast's pleasantry, and a number of other things of the same kind were
invented and proposed; we shall perhaps have occasion to mention them in
the sequel.
    After-dinner coffee was served by four subjects of the same age: to
wit, Zelmire, Augustine, Zephyr, and Adonis. The Duc thigh-fucked Augustine
while tickling her anus with his thumb, Curval did the same thing with
Zelmire, but may or may not have used his thumb, his hand was not in clear
view; the Bishop toiled between Zephyr's tightly squeezed legs, and the
financier fucked Adonis' mouth. Augustine announced that she was ready to
shit, how would they like her to do a little shit? The poor dear could not
wait another moment, she too had been exposed to the indigestion-producing
experiments. Curval beckoned her to him, opened his mouth, and the
delightful little girl dropped a monstrous turd into it; the President
gobbled it up in a trice, not without unleashing a veritable stream of fuck
into Fanchon's hands.
    "There you are," he said to the Duc, "you see that night-time merriment
has no damaging effect upon the following day's pleasures; you're lagging
behind, Monsieur le Duc."
    "I'll not be behind for long," said the latter, to whom Zelmire,
inspired by an urge no less imperious, was rendering the same service
Augustine had a moment before rendered Curval. And, yes, as he pronounces
those words, the Duc topples over, utters piercing shrieks, swallows shit,
and discharges like a madman.
    "Enough of this," said the stern, austere voice of the Bishop,
moderation's exponent; "at least two of us must preserve our strength for
the stories."
    Durcet, who, unlike the Duc and Curval, had no surfeit of fuck to fling
carelessly about, assented wholeheartedly, and after the shortest possible
nap, they installed themselves in the auditorium, where, in the following
terms, the spellbinding Duclos resumed her brilliant and lascivious
history:
    Why is it, Messieurs, the radiant creature inquired, that in this world
there are men whose hearts have been so numbed, whose sentiments of honor
and delicacy have been so deadened, that one sees them pleased and amused
by what degrades and soils them? One is even led to suppose their joy can
be mined nowhere save from the depths of opprobrium, that, for such men,
delights cannot exist elsewhere save in what brings them into consort with
dishonor and infamy. To what I am going now to recount to you, my Lords, to
the various instances I shall lay before you in order to prove my
assertion, do not reply, saying that 'tis physical sensation which is the
foundation of these subsequent pleasures; I know, to be sure, physical
sensation is involved herein, but be perfectly certain that it does not
exist in some sort save thanks to the powerful support given it by moral
sensation, and be sure as well that, were you to provide these individuals
with the same physical sensation and to omit to join to it all that the
moral may yield, you'd fail entirely to stir them.
    There very often came to me a man of whose name and quality I was
ignorant, but who, however, I knew most certainly to be a man of
circumstance. The kind of woman with whom I married him made no difference
at all: beautiful or ugly, old or young, it was all the same to him; his
partner had only to play her role competently, and that role was as
follows: ordinarily, he would come to the house in the morning, he would
enter, as though by accident, into a room where a girl lay upon a bed, her
skirts raised to above her waist and in the attitude of a woman frigging
herself. Immediately his entrance was noticed, the woman, as if surprised,
would spring from the bed.
    "What are you doing here, villain?" she would ask very crossly; "who
gave you permission to disturb me?"
    He would beg forgiveness, his apologies would go unheeded, and all the
while showering him with a renewed deluge of the harshest and most biting
invectives, she would fall to giving him furious kicks upon the posterior,
and she would become all the more certain of her aim as the patient, far
from dodging or shielding his behind, would unfailingly turn himself and
present the target within easy range, although looking for all the world as
if he wished only to escape this punishment and flee the room. The kicking
is redoubled, he cries to be spared, blows and curses are the only replies
he receives, and as soon as he feels he is sufficiently excited, he
promptly draws his prick from his breeches, which he has hitherto kept
tightly buttoned, and lightly giving his device three or four flicks of the
wrist, he discharges while rushing away under an unremitting storm of kicks
and abuses.
    A second personage, either tougher or more accustomed to this sort of
exercise, would not enter the lists save with a street porter or some other
stout rascal willing to sweat for his hire. The libertine enters furtively
while his opponent is busily counting his money; the churl cries thief;
whereupon the hard language and blows begin. Whereas with the former
debauchee, the blows were scattered somewhat over his body, this one,
keeping his breeches down about his ankles, wishes to receive everything
squarely in the center of his unclothed bum, and that bum has to be
buffeted by a good heavy boot, amply studded with hobnails and well coated
with mud. At the moment he felt himself about to discharge, our gentleman
ceased to parry the blows; planted firmly in the middle of the room, his
breeches still lowered, and agitating his prick with all his strength, he
braved his enemy's assaults, and, at this crucial juncture, dared him do
his worst, insulting him in his own turn, and swearing he was about to die
of pleasure. The more vile, the more lowly the man I found for this
stalwart libertine, the more scurvy his antagonist, the heavier and the
more filthy his boot, the more overpowering would be my client's ecstasy; I
had to employ the same tact and discrimination in selecting his assailant
that I would have had to devote to embellishing and beautifying another
man's woman.
    A third wished to find himself in what in a whorehouse is called the
harem, at the same instant two other men, paid so to do and on hand for no
other purpose, began a dispute. Both would turn upon our libertine, he
would ask to be spared, would throw himself upon his knees, would not be
listened to, and one of the two champions would directly snatch up a cane
and fall to belaboring him all the while he crept to the entrance of
another room where he would take refuge. There he would be received by a
girl, she would console him, caress him as one might a child who has come
to be comforted, she would raise her skirts, display her ass, and the
libertine, all smiles, would spray his fuck upon it.
    A fourth required the same preliminaries, but as soon as the strokes of
the cane began to rain down upon his back, he would frig himself within
sight of all. Then this last operation would be suspended for a moment;
there would, however, be no interruption in the dual attack of blows and
oaths; then he'd get hot again, frig some more, and when they saw his fuck
was about to fly, they'd open a window, pick him up by the waist, and fling
him out; he would land upon a specially prepared dung heap after a fall of
no more than six feet. And that was the critical moment; he had been
morally aroused by the foregoing preliminaries, and his physical self only
became so thanks to his fall; 'twas never but upon that dung heap he loosed
his fuck. When one went to look from the window, he was gone; there was an
obscure little door below (he had a key to it), and he'd disappear through
it at once.
    A man paid for the purpose and dressed like a rowdy would abruptly
enter the chamber in which the man who furnishes us with the fifth example
would be lying with a girl, kissing her ass while awaiting developments.
Accosting the expectant libertine, the bully, having forced the door, would
insolently ask what right he had thus to meddle with his mistress and then,
laying his hands upon his sword, he would tell the usurper to defend
himself. All confused, the latter would fall to his knees, ask pardon,
grovel on the floor, kiss his rival's feet too, and swear he was ready to
relinquish the lady at once, for he had no desire to fight over a woman.
The bully, whom his adversary's pliability rendered all the more insolent,
now called his enemy a coward, a contemptible fellow, a whoreson ass-
fucker, and a dog, and threatened to carve up his face with the edge of his
sword. And the more ugly became the one's behavior, the more humble and
fawning became the other's. Finally, after a few minutes of debate, the
assailant offered to make a settlement with his enemy:
    "I see damned well that you've got no guts at all," said he, "and so
I'll let you go, but upon condition you kiss my ass."
    "Oh, Monsieur, I'll do whatever you like," said the other, enchanted by
this solution, "I'd even kiss it if 'twere all beshitted, if you wish,
provided you do me no harm."
    Sheathing his sword, the bully directly pulled down his breeches, the
libertine, only too delighted, leapt enthusiastically to work, and while
the young man let fly half a dozen farts at his nose, the old rake, having
attained the summit of ecstasy, loosed his fuck and swooned with pleasure.
    "Every one of those excesses makes sense to me," Durcet said in a
faltering tone, for the little libertine was stiff after hearing tell of
these turpitudes. "Nothing more logical than to adore degradation and to
reap delight from scorn. He who ardently loves the things which dishonor,
finds pleasure in being dishonored and must necessarily stiffen when told
that he is. Turpitude is, to certain spirits, a very sound cause of joy.
One loves to hear oneself called what one wishes only to merit being, and
it is truly impossible to guess how far a man may go in this direction,
provided he be ashamed of nothing. 'Tis once again the story of certain
sick persons whom nothing delights like the disintegration of their body."
    " 'Tis all a question of cynicism," was Curval's deliberated opinion,
pronounced while toying with Fanchon's buttocks. "Who is unaware that even
punishment produces enthusiasms, and have we not seen certain individual's
pricks stiffen into clubs at the same instant they find themselves publicly
disgraced? Everyone knows the story of the brave Marquis de S*** who, when
informed of the magistrates' decision to burn him in effigy, pulled his
prick from his breeches and exclaimed: 'God be fucked, it has taken them
years to do it, but it's achieved at last; covered with opprobrium and
infamy, am I? Oh, leave me, for I've got absolutely to discharge'; and he
did so in less time than it takes to tell."
    "Those are undisputed facts," the Duc commented, nodding gravely. "But
can you explain to me their cause?"
    "It resides in our heart," Curval replied. "Once a man has degraded
himself, debased himself through excesses, he has imparted something of a
vicious cast to his soul, and nothing can rectify that situation. In any
other case, shame would act as a deterrent and incline him away from the
vices to which his mind advises him to surrender, but here that possibility
has been eliminated altogether: 'tis the first token of shame he has
obliterated, the initial call he has definitively silenced, and from the
state in which one is when one has ceased to blush, to that other state
wherein one adores everything that causes others to blush, there is no
more, nor less, than a single step. All that before affected one
disagreeably, now encountering an otherwise prepared soul, in metamorphosed
into pleasure, and from this moment onward, whatever recalls the new state
one has adopted can henceforth only be voluptuous."
    "But what a distance one must first have ventured along the road of
vice to arrive at that point!" said the Bishop.
    "Yes, yes, 'tis so," Curval acknowledged; "but little by little one
makes one's way along, and the path one treads is strewn with flowers; one
excess leads to another, the imagination, never sated, soon brings us to
our destination, and as the traveler's heart has only hardened as he has
pursued his career, immediately he reaches his goal, that heart which of
old contained some virtues, no longer recognizes a single one. Accustomed
to livelier things, it promptly shrugs off those early impressions, those
soft and unsweet, those tasteless ones which till then had made it drunk,
and as it strongly senses that infamy and dishonor are going surely to be
the consequences of its new impulsions, in order to have nothing to fear of
them, it begins by making itself familiar with them. It no sooner caresses
than it is seized with a fondness for them, because they are of the same
nature as its new conquests; and now that heart is fixed unalterably,
forever."
    "And that," the Bishop observed, "is what makes mending one's way so
difficult."
    "Say rather that it is impossible, my friend. And how are the
punishments inflicted upon him you wish to reform ever to succeed, since,
with the exception of one or two privations, the state of degradation which
characterizes the situation in which you place him when you punish him,
pleases him, amuses him, delights him, and inwardly he relishes the self
that has gone so far as to merit being treated in this way?"
    "Oh, what is this glory, jest, and riddle of the world!" sighed the
Duc.
    "Yes, my friend, an enigma above all else," said the grave Curval. "And
that perhaps is what led a very witty individual to say that better every
time to fuck a man than to seek to comprehend him."
    And the arrival of supper interrupting our interlocutors, they seated
themselves at table without having achieved a thing during the soiree.
Natheless, at dessert, Curval, his prick as hard as a demon's, declared
he'd be damned if it wasn't a pucelage he wanted to pop, even if he had
twenty fines to pay, and instantly laying rude hands upon Zelmire, who had
been reserved for him, he was about to drag her off to the boudoir when his
three colleagues, casting themselves in his path, besought him to
reconsider and submit to the law he had himself prescribed; and, said they,
since they too had equally powerful urges to breach the contract, but held
themselves somehow in check all the same, he should imitate them, at least
out of a feeling of comradeship. And as they had straightway sent word to
have Julie fetched in, for Curval was fond of her, she, upon arriving, took
him directly in hand, and, together with Champville and Bum-Cleaver, they
all four went into the salon; the other three friends soon joined them
there, for the orgies were scheduled to begin. Upon entering, they found
Curval close at grips with his aides, who, adopting the most lubricious
postures and providing the most libertine exhortations, finally caused him
to yield up his fuck.
    In the course of the orgies, Durcet had the duennas give him two or
three hundred kicks in the ass; not to be outdone, his peers had the
fuckers serve them identically, and before retiring for the night, no one
was exempted from shedding more or less fuck, depending upon the faculties
wherewith by Nature he had been endowed. Fearing some fresh return of the
defloratory whim Curval had just announced, the duennas were, through
precaution, assigned to sleep in the boys' and girls' chambers. But this
measure was unnecessary, and Julie, who looked after the President all
night long, the following morning turned him over to the society as limp as
an empty glove.




THE TWENTY-FOURTH DAY
    Piety is indeed a true disease of the soul. Apply whatever remedies you
please, the fever will not subside, the patient never heals; finding
readier entry into the souls of the woebegone and downtrodden, because to
be devout consoles them for their other ills, it is far more difficult to
cure in such persons than in others. Such was the case with Adelaide: the
more that vista of debauchery and of libertinage unfolded before her eyes,
the more she recoiled and sought sanctuary in the arms of that comfort-
giving God she hoped one day would come and deliver her from the evils
which, she saw only too well, her dreadful situation was going to bring
down upon her head. No one had a more profound appreciation of her
circumstances than she; her mind could not more clearly have foreseen
everything that was necessarily to follow the fatal beginning of which
already she had been a victim, however mildly; she wonderfully well
understood that, as the stories grew progressively stronger, the men's use
of her and of her companions, evolving sympathetically, would also grow
more ferocious. All that, despite everything she was told, made her avidly
seek out, as often and for as long as she could, the society of her beloved
Sophie. No longer did she dare go in quest of her at night; her overseers
were sharp-eyed, wary, and drastic steps had been taken to thwart any more
of those escapades, but whenever she found herself free for an instant, she
would fly to her soul mate, and upon this very morning of the day we are
presently chronicling, having risen early from the Bishop's bed, where she
had lain that night, she went into the young girls' quarters to chat with
her dearest correspondent. Durcet, who because of his duties that month
used also to rise earlier than the others, found her there and declared to
her there was nothing for it, he could not both carry out his functions and
overlook this infraction of the rules; the society would have to decide the
matter according to its pleasure. Adelaide wept, tears were her sole
weapon, and she resorted to them. The only favor she dared beg from her
husband was to try to prevent Sophie from being punished; for Sophie, she
argued, could not be guilty, since it had been she, Adelaide, who had come
looking for her, not Sophie who had gone in search of Adelaide. Durcet said
he would report the fact as he had observed it, would disguise nothing; no
one is less apt to be melted than a punisher whose keenest interest lies in
punishing. And such was the case here, of course; was there anything
prettier to punish than Sophie? Surely not, and what cause might Durcet
have for sparing her?
    Their Lordships assembled, the financier made his report. Here was an
habitual offender; the President recollected that, when he had been at the
Palais de Justice, his ingenious confreres used to contend that recidivism
in a man proves Nature is acting more strongly in him than education or
principles; hence, by repeated errors, he attests, so to speak, that he is
not his own master; hence, he must be doubly punished - the President now
reasoned just as logically and with the same inspired verve that, as had
won him his schoolmates' admiration, and he declared that, as he viewed the
thing, one had no choice but to invoke the law and punish the incurable
Adelaide and her companion with all permissible rigor. But as the law fixed
the death penalty for this offense, and as Messieurs were disposed to amuse
themselves yet a little longer with these ladies before taking the final
step, they were content to summon them, to make them kneel, and to read
them the article out of the ordinances applying to their case, drawing
their attention to the grave risk they had just run in committing such a
transgression. That done, their judges pronounced a sentence thrice as
severe as the one which had been executed upon them the previous Saturday,
they were forced to swear they would not repeat their crime, they were
advised that, should the same thing occur again, they would have to endure
the extreme penalty, and their names were inscribed in the register.
    Durcet's inspection added three more names to the page; two from
amongst the little girls, one of the boys rounded out the morning's
capture. All this was the result of the experimenting with minor
indigestions; it was succeeding extremely well, but those poor children,
unable to restrain themselves another moment, were beginning to tumble one
after another into states of culpability: such had been the experience of
Fanny and of Hebe amongst the girls, and of Hyacinthe amongst the boys. The
evidence found in their pots was enormous, and Durcet frolicked about with
it for a long time. Never had so many permissions been requested on any
given morning, and certain subordinate personages were heard to curse
Duclos for having imparted her secret. Notwithstanding the multitude of
requests, leave to shit was granted only to Constance, Hercule, two second-
rank fuckers, Augustine, Zephyr, and Desgranges; they provided a few
minutes' entertainment, and Messieurs sat down to dine.
    "Well, now you see your mistake in allowing your daughter to receive
religious instruction," Durcet said to Curval; "there's nothing to be done
about her now. Those imbecilities have taken root in her head. And I told
you they would, ages ago."
    "In faith," said Curval, "I thought that acquaintance with them would
be just one more reason she'd have for despising them, and that as she grew
up she would convince herself of the stupidity of those infamous dogmas."
    "What you say is all very well for reasoning minds," said the Bishop,
"but one simply must not expect it to succeed with a child."
    "I'm afraid we're going to be forced to resort to violent measures,"
said the Duc, who knew very well Adelaide could overhear him.
    "Oh yes, in good time," Durcet nodded. "I can assure her that if she
has no one but me for her advocate, she'll be poorly defended in court."
    "Oh, I know that, Monsieur!" Adelaide stammered through her tears;
"everyone is aware of your feelings toward me."
    "My feelings?" protested Durcet. "But, my dear wife, I ought perhaps to
begin by informing you I have never had any feelings whatsoever for a
woman, and assuredly fewer for you, who belong to me, than for any other. I
hate religion, as well as those who practice it, and I warn you that, from
the indifference I have in your regard, I shall pass damned quickly to the
most violent aversion if you continue to revere infamous and execrable
illusions, phantoms which have ever been the object of my contemptuous
scorn. One must first have lost one's mind to be able to acknowledge a god,
and to have gone completely mad to worship such a thing. In short, I
declare to you before your father and these other gentlemen that there are
no lengths to which I shall not go if I ever again find you guilty of such
a sin. You should have been sent to a nunnery if you wanted to pray to your
fuck-in-the-ass God; there you'd have been able to worship the bugger to
your heart's content."
    "Ah!" put in Adelaide, groaning, "a nun, Great God, a nun, would to
heaven that I were such."
    And Durcet, who at the time was sitting opposite her, annoyed by her
response, hurled a silver plate at her face; it would have killed her had
it struck her head, for the shock was so violent the missile bent double
upon crashing against the wall.
    "You're an insolent creature," Curval said to his daughter, who, to
avoid plate, had leapt between her father and Antinoüs. "You deserve to
have your belly kicked in."
    And driving her away from him with a blow of his fist:
    "Go crawl on your knees and beg your husband's forgiveness," said he,
"or we'll expose you to the severest ordeal you've ever dreamt of."
    In tears, she cast herself at Durcet's feet, but he, having got a very
solid erection from hurling the plate, and declaring he'd have given a
thousand louis to have hit his mark, Durcet said that he felt an immediate,
a general, and an exemplary punishment was in order; another would of
course be executed on Saturday, but he proposed that this one time they do
without the children's services at coffee and devote that period to amusing
themselves with Adelaide. Everyone consented to the proposal; Adelaide,
Louison, and Fanchon, the most wicked of the four elders and the most
dreaded by the women, moved into the salon; certain considerations obliged
us to draw a curtain over what transpired there. But of one thing we may be
perfectly certain: our four heroes discharged during that set-to, and
Adelaide was allowed to take to her bed. 'Tis for the reader to invent the
combinations and scene he'd like best, and kindly consent to be conveyed,
if 'twould please him to accompany us, directly to the throne room where
Duclos is about to resume her narrative. All of the friends have taken
their places near their wives, all, that is to say, save the Duc, who was
to have Adelaide that afternoon, and who has replaced her with Augustine;
everyone then being ready, Duclos begins to speak.
    One day, said that talented orator, while I was maintaining before one
of my fellow procuresses that I had surely seen all it were possible to see
of the most furious by way of passive flagellation, in that I had flogged
and witnessed others flog men with thorns and the bull's pizzle:
    "Oh, by God," my colleague answered, "you still have a great deal to
see, my dear, and to persuade you that you've by no means observed the
worst, I'll send one of my clients around tomorrow."
    And having given me notice of the hour of the visit, and advised me of
the ritual expected by that elderly post-office commissioner whose name, I
remember, was Monsieur de Grancourt, I made full preparations and awaited
for our man; I was to give him my personal attention, the thing was so
arranged. He arrives at the house, and after we have retired to a room
together:
    "Monsieur," I say, "I deeply regret having to make the following
disclosure, but I am bound to inform you that you are a prisoner and cannot
leave this place. I further regret to say that Parliament has delegated me
to arrest and punish you, and the Legislature has so willed it, and I have
its order in my pocket. The person who sent you to me set a trap for you,
for she knew full well the implications of your coming here, and she could
most assuredly have enabled you to avoid this scene. As for the rest, you
know the facts in the case: 'tis not with impunity one perpetrates the
black and dreadful crimes you have committed, and I consider you
exceedingly fortunate to get off with so little."
    Our man had listened with the keenest attention to my harangue, and
immediately I had done, he burst into tears and fell down on his knees
before me, imploring me to deal leniently with him.
    "Well I know," said he, "that I have greatly misbehaved. I know I have
affronted God and justice; but since 'tis you, my sweet lady, who are
appointed to chasten me, I most earnestly entreat your indulgence in my
regard."
    "Monsieur," I replied, "I shall do my duty. How can you be sure I am
not myself being closely watched? What makes you suppose I have it in my
power to respond to your pleas for merciful compassion? Remove your clothes
and adopt a docile attitude, that is all I can say to you."
    Grancourt obeyed; in a trice he was as naked as the palm of your hand.
But, great God! what was this body he offered to my sight! I can only
compare its skin to a ruffled taffeta. Upon that whole body, marked
everywhere, there was not a single spot which did not bear terrible
evidence of the lash.
    However, into the fire I had thrust an iron scourge garnished with
pointed steel tips; I had received the weapon that morning together with
the final instructions. This murderous instrument had reached a bright-red
color about the same moment Grancourt had removed his last stitch. I
snatched the scourge from the coals and, starting to beat him with it,
gently at first, then with increasing severity, then with all my strength,
and that heedless of where my blows fell, rending him from the nape of his
neck to his heels, I had my man streaming blood in an instant.
    "You are a villain," I told him as I brought the scourge whistling down
upon his body, "you're a villain and you've committed all sorts of crimes.
Nothing is sacred to you, and I've lately heard that you've poisoned your
own mother."
    "'Tis true, Madame, oh, 'tis only too true. I'm a monster, I'm a
criminal," said he as he frigged himself. "There's no infamy I've not
perpetrated and am not prepared to do again. Come now, your blows are
utterly in vain, I'll never mend my ways, I find too much delight in crime.
You'd have to kill me to put a stop to my joy; crime is my element, 'tis my
life, I've lived in crime, I'll die in it."
    And you may well imagine how, these remarks of his inspiring my arm and
tongue, I redoubled my blows and invectives. The word "fuck" escaped his
lips, however: that was the signal: I lay on with all my might and endeavor
to strike his most sensitive parts. He skips, hops, jumps, and capers, he
eludes me and, discharging, he scampers into a tub of warm water specially
prepared to purify him after this bloody ceremonial. Ah, upon my soul, yes!
I ceded to my friend the honor of having seen more of this sort of thing
than I, and I believe we two were able to say at the time that we had seen
more than all the rest of Paris, for our Grancourt's needs never varied,
and for above twenty years he had been going every day to that woman's
establishment for the same treatment.
    Shortly afterward, that same woman arranged to have me meet another
libertine whose idiosyncrasy, I fancy, will seem at least unusual to you.
The scene transpired in his little house at Roule. I am introduced into a
rather obscurely lit room, where I find a man lying in bed, and, posed in
the center of the room, a coffin.
    "You see before you," our libertine said to me, "a man reclining upon
his deathbed, one who would not close his eyes without rendering a last
homage to the object he worships. I adore asses, and if I am to perish, I
want to die while kissing one. When life shall have fled this frame, you
yourself shall lift me into that coffin, draw round the shrouds, and nail
down the lid. It is my design thus to die in pleasure's embrace, and at
this last moment to be served by the very object of my lubricious heats.
Come . . . come," he continued in a broken, weak, gasping voice, "make
haste, for I am nigh to the threshold."
    I draw near to him, turn around, I exhibit my buttocks.
    "Ah, wondrous ass!" he cries. "'Tis well, I am easy thus to be able to
take with me to the grave the idea of a behind as pretty as that one!"
    And he fondled it, opened it, nuzzled and kissed it just the way the
healthiest man in the world might have done.
    "Oh, indeed!" said he a moment later as he left off his task and rolled
toward the wall, "well I knew 'twould not be for long I'd savor this
pleasure; I do now expire, remember what I have enjoined you to do."
    And so saying, he uttered a profound sigh, grew rigid, and played his
part with such skill that damn me if I didn't think he was dead. I kept my
wits about me; eager to see the end of this droll ceremony, I wrapped him
in the shroud. He had ceased to stir, and whether it was that he knew some
secret for feigning death, or whether my imagination had been affected, he
felt as rigid and cold as a bar of iron; only his prick gave some hints of
life: it too was rigid, but not cold, and glued to his belly, and drops of
fuck seemed to come oozing from it despite his moribund condition. Directly
I have him swathed in the sheet, I take him up in my arms, and it wasn't
easy, for the way he'd become rigid made him as heavy as a steer. I
succeeded nevertheless in transporting him to the coffin. As soon as I have
laid him out, I start reciting the prayer for the dead, and finally I nail
the coffin shut; that was the critical instant for him: no sooner have I
driven the last nail home than he sets to screeching like a madman:
    "Holy name of God, I'm coming! Get out, whore, get out, for if I catch
you, you're done for!"
    I'm seized by fear, I dart to the stairs, upon which I meet a tactful
manservant who is thoroughly acquainted with his master's manias and who
gives me two louis; I proceed to the door, while the valet hastens into the
patient's bedchamber to free him from the sealed coffin.
    "Now there's a quaint taste," said Durcet. "Well, Curval, what do you
think of that one?"
    "Marvelous," the President replied; "there you have an individual who
wishes to make himself familiar with the idea of death, and hence unafraid
of it, and who to that end has found no better means than to associate it
with a libertine idea. There is absolutely no doubt about it: that man will
die fondling an ass."
    "Nor any doubt," said Champville, "that he is proudly impious; I know
him, and I shall have occasion to describe the use he makes of religion's
holiest mysteries."
    "I don't wonder he is an unbeliever," said the Duc. "He's clearly a man
who laughs at the whole business and who wishes to accustom himself to
acting and thinking the same way during his last minutes."
    "For my part," the Bishop said, "I find something very piquant in that
passion, and I'll not hide the fact I'm stiff from hearing about it.
Continue, Duclos, go on, for I have the feeling I might do something silly,
and I'd prefer to leave well enough alone for the rest of the day."
    Very well, said that splendid raconteur, here's one less complex; 'tis
the story of a man who for five years regularly applied at my door for the
single pleasure of getting me to sew up his asshole. He used to stretch out
belly down upon a bed, I would seat myself between his legs and, equipped
with a stout needle and half a spool of heavy cobbler's thread, I'd sew his
anus completely closed, and this fellow's skin in that area was so
toughened and so used to needle thrusts that my operation would not draw a
single drop of blood from his hide. While I worked, he would frig himself,
and he used to discharge like a mule when I'd taken the last stitch. His
ecstasy dissipated, I'd promptly undo my work, and that would be that.
    Another used to have brandy rubbed over every part of his body where
Nature had placed hair, then I'd put a match to those areas I'd rubbed with
alcohol, and all the hair would go up in flames. He would discharge upon
finding himself afire, meanwhile I'd shown him my belly, my cunt, and so
forth, for that fellow had the bad taste never to want to see anything but
fronts.
    "But, tell me, Messieurs, did any of you know Mirecourt, today
president in the upper chamber, and in those days attorney to the Crown?"
    "I knew him," said Curval.
    "Well, my Lord, do you know what used to be, and what I dare say still
is, his passion?"
    "No; and he passes, or wishes to pass, for a devout and good subject,
I'd be most pleased to know."
    "My Lord," Duclos said, "he likes also to be taken for an ass. . . ."
    "Ah! by God! said the Duc; and turning to Curval: "what do you think of
that, my friend? Damned strange taste, don't you think, for a judge? I'll
wager that once he's an ass he thinks he's going to pronounce judgment.
Well, what next?" he asked of Duclos.
    "Next, your Grace, one must lead him by the halter, walk him about the
room for an hour, he brays, one mounts astride him, and when one's in the
saddle, one whips his entire body with a switch, as if to quicken his gait.
He breaks into a trot, and as he's started by now to frig himself, he soon
discharges and, while he does so, makes loud noises, bucks, rears, and
throws the rider."
    "That, I'd say, is more diverting than lubricious. And pray tell me,
Duclos," the Duc went on, "did that man ever tell you he had some comrade
who shared his taste?"
    "Why, indeed, he did tell me so," said the amiable Duclos, entering
into the joke with a merry laugh and descending from her platform, for her
day's stint was over; "Yes, Sire, he told me he had a quantity of comrades,
but that not all of them would allow themselves to be mounted."
    The seance had come to an end, Messieurs were disposed to perform a few
stunts before supper; the Duc hugged Augustine in close embrace.
    "You know," he said dreamily, frigging her clitoris and directing her
to grasp his prick, "you know, I'm not at all surprised that Curval is
sometimes tempted to violate the pact and pop a pucelage or two, for I feel
at this very moment, for example, that I could willingly send Augustine's
to the devil."
    "Which one?" Curval inquired.
    "Both of them, bless my soul," answered the Duc; "but one must behave
oneself during this sojourn; in having thus to wait a little while for our
pleasures, we make them far more delicious. Well, little girl," he
continued, "show me your buttocks, perhaps 'twill change the character of
my ideas. . . . Bleeding Christ! look at that little whore's ass! Curval,
what do you advise me to do with this thing?"
    "Put some vinegar sauce on it," said Curval.
    "Mercy!" exclaimed the Duc, "what a notion. But patience, patience . .
. everything will come in good time."
    "My very dear brother," said the Bishop in a halting voice, "there's
something in your words that smells of fuck."
    "Really? For indeed I have the greatest desire to lose some."
    "And what prevents you?" the Bishop wanted to know.
    "Oh, many things, many things," the Duc replied. "First of all, I see
no shit in the pipe, and I'd like shit, and then . . . I don't know - there
are so many things I'd like. . . ."
    "What?" asked Durcet just before Antinoüs' turd cascaded into his
mouth.
    "What?" echoed the Duc. "There's, to begin with, a little infamy I
simply must perform."
    And retiring to the distant boudoir with Augustine, Zelamir, Cupidon,
Duclos, Desgranges, and Hercule, he was heard, a minute later, to utter
ringing cries and oaths which proved the Duc had finally managed to calm
his brain and soothe his balls. Little precise information exists upon what
he did to Augustine, but, notwithstanding his love for her, she was seen to
return in tears and, ominous sign! one of her fingers had been twisted. We
deeply regret not yet to be able to explain all this to the reader, but it
is quite certain that these gentlemen, on the sly and before the arrival of
the day heralding open season, were giving themselves over to tricks which
have not so far been embodied in story, hence to unsanctioned deeds, and in
so doing they were acting in formal violation of the regulations they had
sworn in honor to observe; but, you know, when an entire society commits
the same faults, they are commonly pardoned. The Duc came back and was
pleased to see that Durcet and the Bishop had not been wasting their time,
and that Curval, in Bum-Cleaver's arms, was deliciously doing everything
one may possibly do with all the voluptuous objects one may possibly
assemble around oneself.
    Supper was served, orgies followed as usual, the household retired to
bed. Lame and aching as Adelaide was, the Duc, who was scheduled to have
her by him that night, wanted her there, and as he had come from the orgies
rather drunk, as was his wont, it is said that he did not deal tenderly
with her. But by and large the night was passed just like all the preceding
nights, that is to say, in the depths of delirium and debauchery, and fair-
haired Aurora having come, as the poets say, to fling open the gates of the
palace where dwelt Apollo, that god, somewhat a libertine himself, only
mounted his azure chariot in order to bring light to shed upon new
lecheries.




THE TWENTY-FIFTH DAY
    However, a new intrigue was quietly taking form within the impenetrable
walls of the Château of Silling; but it did not have the dangerous
significance that had been attributed to Adelaide's league with Sophie.
This latest association was being hatched between Aline and Zelmire; those
two young girls' conformity of character contributed greatly to their
attachment to each other: both were mild-natured and sensitive, no more
than thirty months separated them in age, they were both very childlike,
very simple, very good-hearted: they had, in brief, almost all of the same
virtues, and almost all the same vices, for Zelmire, sweet and tender, was
also, like Aline, careless and lazy. They suited one another so admirably
that, on the morning of the 25th, they were discovered in the same bed, and
this is how it happened: being destined for Curval, Zelmire slept, as we
know, in his bedchamber. Aline was Curval's bedwife that same night. But
Curval, having returned dead drunk from the orgies, wished to sleep with no
one but Invictus, and thus it fell out that these two little doves,
abandoned and brought together by fortune, from dread of the cold both
camped in the same bed and, in bed, 'twas maintained, their little fingers
itched more than their dear little elbows.
    Upon opening his eyes in the morning and seeing these two birds sharing
the same nest, Curval demanded to know what they were doing there, and
ordering them both to come instantly into his bed, he sniffed about just
below each one's clitoris, and clearly recognized that both of them were
still full of fuck. The case was grave: Messieurs did indeed wish the young
ladies to be victims of impudicity, but they insisted that, amongst
themselves, they behave decently - oh, for what will libertinage,
perpetually inconsistent libertinage, not insist upon! - and if they
sometimes consented to permit the ladies to indulge in a little reciprocal
impurity, it all had to be both upon Messieurs' express instructions and
before their eyes. And thus it was the case was brought before the council,
and the two delinquents, who neither could nor dared deny the thing, were
ordered to demonstrate what they had been up to, and before a crowd of
spectators to display just what their individual talents were. They did as
they were told, with much blushing and not a little weeping, and asked to
be forgiven their mistakes. But too attractive was the prospect of having
that pretty couple amongst the culprits to be punished the following
Saturday; consequently, they were not forgiven, but were speedily included
in Durcet's book of sorrows which, incidentally, was being very agreeably
filled up that week.
    This chore completed, breakfast was finished, and Durcet conducted his
searches. The fatal indigestions yielded still another miscreant: 'twas the
little Michette, she'd been unable to hold the bridge, she said they'd made
her eat too much the night before, and these were followed by a thousand
other infantile excuses which did not prevent her name from being written
down. Curval, his prick jumping like a young colt, seized the chamber pot
and devoured its contents. And then bringing his angry eyes to bear upon
her:
    "Oh yes, by Jesus," said he, "yes, by the Saviour's fuck, you shall be
spanked, my little rascal, my own hand will see to that. There are rules
against shitting that way; you should at least have given us notice; you
know damned well that we are prepared to receive shit at any hour of the
day or night."
    And he fondled her buttocks very vivaciously while repeating the rules
to her.
    The boys were found intact, no chapel permissions were distributed to
them, and Messieurs repaired to table. During the meal, there was plentiful
and penetrating discussion of Aline's deed; they ascribed a holier-than-
thou attitude to her, said she appeared a little hypocrite, and behold!
here was proof of her real temperament at last come to light.
    "How now, my friend," Durcet said to the Bishop, "is one still to lay
any store by appearances, above all those that girls parade?"
    'Twas unanimously agreed nothing was more deceitful than a girl, and
that, as they were every one of them false, they never made use of their
wits save to be more skillfully false. These observations brought the table
talk around to women, and the Bishop who abhorred them, gave vent to all
the hatred they inspired in him. He reduced them to the state of the vilest
animals, and proved their existence so perfectly useless in this world that
one could extirpate them from the face of the earth without in the
slightest countercarrying the designs of Nature who, having in times past
very surely found the means to create without women, would find it again
when only men were left.
    They proceeded to coffee; it was presented them by Augustine, Michette,
Hyacinthe, and Narcisse. The Bishop, one of whose greatest uncomplex
pleasures was to suck little boys' pricks, had been spending a few minutes
playing this game with Hyacinthe, when all of a sudden he reared back and
let out, not a shout, but a bubbling noise, for his mouth was full; his
exclamation was interpreted thus: "Ah, by God's balls, my friends, a
pucelage! That's the first time this little rascal has discharged, I'm sure
of it!" And, truth to tell, no one had so far observed Hyacinthe carry
things to that point; he was indeed thought still too young to bring it
off. But he was well advanced in his fourteenth year, 'tis the age when
Nature customarily heaps her favors upon us, and nothing could have been
more real than the victory the Bishop thought he had achieved. None the
less, the others were anxious to verify the thing, and each wishing to be
witness to the adventure, they drew up their chairs in a semicircle around
the young man. Augustine, the most accomplished frigger in the seraglio,
received permission to manualize the lad within clear sight of the
assembly, and Hyacinthe was given leave to fondle and caress her in
whatsoever part of her body he desired. There's no spectacle more
voluptuous than that offered by a young maid of fifteen, lovely as the day,
lending herself to the caresses of a boy of fourteen and provoking, by
means of the most delicious pollutions, his springtide discharge.
    Hyacinthe, aided perhaps by Nature, but yet more certainly by the
examples he had before his nose, fondled, handled, kissed naught but his
frigger's pretty little buttocks, and it required little more than an
instant of this to bring color to his cheeks, to fetch two or three sighs
from his lips, to induce his pretty little prick to shoot, to a distance of
one yard, five or six jets of sweet fuck white as cream, which emissions
happened to land on Durcet's thigh, for the banker was seated nearest the
boy and was having himself frigged by Narcisse while watching the
operation. The fact once indubitably established, they caressed and kissed
the child rather universally, each swore he'd love to receive a small
portion of that youthful sperm, and as it appeared that, at his age and for
a beginning, six discharges were not too many, in that he had after all
just delivered himself of two without the least difficulty, our libertines
induced him to shed another in each of their mouths.
    Much heated by this performance, the Duc laid hands on Augustine and
frigged her clitoris with his tongue until he had elicited several solid
discharges from her; full of fire and blessed with a mettlesome spirit,
that little minx shot them off in short order. While the Duc was thus
polluting Augustine, nothing was more engaging than to see Durcet, come up
to gather symptoms of the pleasure he was not provoking, kiss that
beautiful child's mouth a thousand times over, and swallow, so to speak,
the voluptuousness another was causing to circulate throughout her senses.
The hour was advanced, they were obliged to omit the midday nap and to pass
directly into the auditorium where Duclos had been awaiting them for a long
time; as soon as everyone had arranged himself, she took up the thread of
her adventures and spoke as hereafter you may read:
    I have already had the honor to remark in your Lordships' presence,
that it is most difficult to fathom all the tortures man invents for
himself in order to find, in the degradation they produce, or the agonies,
those sparks of pleasure which age or satiety have made to grow faint in
him. Hard it is to credit the assertion that one such gentleman of this
sort, a person of sixty years and to a singular degree jaded by all the
pleasures of lubricity, used only to be able to restore his senses to life
by having the flames of burning candles applied to every part of his body,
and principally to the ones Nature has intended for those selfsame
pleasures. He would have his thighs seared, his prick, his balls roasted,
and above all else his asshole: while all this was going forward, he would
be kissing an ass, and after the grievous operation had been repeated for
the fifteenth or twentieth time, he would discharge while sucking the anus
of the girl who'd been burning him.
    Soon after that one, I had dealings with another who obliged me to use
a horse's currycomb on him, to rub down his entire body with that
instrument, quite as one does to the animal I have just named. Directly his
body was all an open wound, I'd next rub him with alcohol, and this second
torture would cause him abundantly to discharge upon my breasts - that was
the battlefield he chose to spray with his fuck. I would kneel before him,
squeeze his prick between my bubs, and he'd quietly wash them with his
balls' acrid humor.
    A third would have would have every hair on his ass plucked out one by
one. While that lengthy operation was advancing, he would frig himself upon
a warm turd I'd just done for him. Then, at the crisis' approach, I had, to
give it the necessary encouragement, to drive the point of a scissors deep
enough into each of his buttocks to draw a jet of blood. His ass was a maze
of wounds and scars, I was scarce able to find an open space for my two
gashes; immediately the steel entered him, he'd plunge his nose into the
shit, smear it upon his face, and floods of sperm would crown his ecstasy.
    A fourth put his prick in my mouth and bade me bite it as hard as I
could; in the meantime, as I chewed his poor device, I was expected to
lacerate his buttocks with an iron comb whose teeth were ground to sharp
points; and then, at the moment I sensed his prick ready to melt - a very
faint, a barely perceptible erection would tell me so - and then, I say,
I'd spread his buttocks prodigiously wide, ease them close to a burning
candle I'd kept in readiness on the floor, and I'd braise his asshole with
it. 'Twas the burning sensation of that candle under his anus decided his
emission; I'd therewith redouble my bitings, and would soon find my mouth
full.
    "One moment, if you please," said the Bishop. "Every time I hear of
someone discharging into a mouth I am reminded of the good fortune I had
earlier today, and my spirits are disposed to tasting further pleasures of
the same sort."
    Saying which, he draws Invictus near, for that champion wsa on duty in
the Bishop's alcove that afternoon, and falls to sucking the brave fellow's
prick with all the energetic lustiness of a true bugger. Fuck explodes, the
prelate gobbles it up, and straightway goes to repeat the operation upon
Zephyr. The Bishop was brandishing his knobkerrie, and 'twas seldom that
women would feel completely at their ease when he was in this critical
state and they were near him. Unfortunately, it was his niece Aline who
happened to be within range.
    "What are you doing there, bitch?" he rasped; "I want men for my fun."
    Aline seeks to elude him, he seizes her by the hair and, dragging her
into his closet along with Zelmire and Hebe, the two girls in his quartet:
    "You'll see," says he to his friends, "you'll see how I'm going to
teach these wenches to slip cunts under my hand when I'm doing my best to
find some pricks."
    Upon his order, Fanchon accompanied the three maidens, and an instant
later Aline was heard to utter very shrill cries; then came tidings of
Monseigneur's discharge, reverberating howls which blended with his dear
niece's dolorous accents. Everyone returned . . . Aline was weeping,
squeezing and clutching her behind.
    "Come show me what he did to you," said the Duc; "I love nothing better
than to see traces of my distinguished brother's brutality."
    Aline displayed I've no idea what, for I have never been able to
discover what went on in those infernal closets, but the Duc exclaimed: "By
fuck, 'tis delicious, I think I'll go off and do the same." But Curval
having pointed out to him that time was growing short, and having added
that he had an amusing enterprise in mind for the orgies, which scheme
would demand a clear head and all his fuck, Duclos was asked to go ahead
with the fifth story in order that the sitting be brought to a proper
conclusion; the storyteller therewith addressed the convocation once again:
    Belonging to that group of extraordinary individuals, said she, whose
mania consists in wallowing in degradation and in insulting their own
dignity, was a certain judge of the circuit court whose name was Foucolet.
There's truly no believing the point to which that fellow would carry his
furor; he had to be given a sample of almost every torture. I used to hang
him, but the rope would break just in time and he would fall upon a
mattress; the next instant, I would strap him to a St. Andrew's cross and
make as if to break his limbs with a bar, but it was only a roll of
pasteboard; I used to brand him upon the shoulder, the iron I used was warm
and left a faint imprint, no more; I would flog his back in precise
imitation of the public servant who performs those noble feats, and whilst
I was doing all this I had to overwhelm him with a stream of atrocious
invectives, bitter reproaches for various crimes, for which, during each
successive operation, he would demand, a candle in his hand and wearing
only his shirt, God's forgiveness and the law's, pronouncing his entreaties
in a very humble and contrite tone; finally, the meeting would be brought
to a close on my ass, where the libertine would yield up his fuck when his
head had reached the ultimate degree of distraction.
    "Well now, are you going to let me discharge in peace now that Duclos
has finished?" the Duc asked Curval.
    "No, not a bit of it," the President replied; "preserve your fuck, I
tell you I need it for the orgies."
    "Oh, so you take me for your valet, do you?" the Duc exclaimed. "You
take me for a worn-out bugger? Do you suppose that the small quantity of
fuck I'm going to lose in a moment will prevent me from joining in all the
infamies which are going to pop into your head four hours from now? Come
now, President, you know me better than that; banish your fears, I'll be
fit again for anything inside fifteen minutes, but my good and holy brother
has been pleased to give me a little example of an atrocity I'd be grief-
stricken not to execute with Adelaide, your dear and estimable daughter."
    And pushing her forthwith into his closet, along with Therèse, Colombe,
and Fanny, the female elements of his quatrain, he probably did there, with
them, what the Bishop had done to his niece, and discharged with the same
episodes, for, as not long before they heard Aline's terrible scream, so
now their ears were treated to another from the lips of Adelaide and the
bawdy Duc's yells of lust. Curval wished to learn which of the two brothers
had been the better behaved; he summoned the two women, and having pored at
length over their two behinds, he decided that the Duc had not merely
imitated, but surpassed the Bishop.
    They sat down at table, and having by means of some drug or other
stuffed the bowels of all the subjects, men and women, with an abundance of
wind, after supper they played the game of fart-in-the-face: Messieurs, all
four of them, lay back upon couches, their heads raised, and one by one the
members of the household stepped up to deliver their farts into the waiting
mouths. Duclos was requested to do the counting and mark down the scores;
there were thirty-six farters against only four swallowers: hence there
were certain persons who received as many as one hundred and fifty farts.
It had been for this rousing ceremony Curval had wanted the Duc to keep
himself fit, but such precautions, as Blangis had made perfectly clear,
were quite unnecessary; he was too great a friend of libertinage to allow
some new excess to find him unprepared; to the contrary, any new excess
always had the greatest effect upon him, his situation notwithstanding, and
he did not fail to produce a second discharge thanks to the humid mistral
Fanchon wafted into his mouth. As for Curval, they were Antinoüs' farts
which cost him his fuck, whereas Durcet bent before the gale that swept out
of Martaine's asshole, and the Bishop lost all control in the face of what
Desgranges offered him. The youthful beauties' efforts, 'twill be remarked,
came to naught; but is it not true that it is always the crapulous
individual who best executes the infamous deed?




THE TWENTY-SIXTH DAY
    In that nothing was more delicious than meting out punishments, in that
nothing prepared the way for so many pleasures, and those very sorts of
pleasures Messieurs had mutually promised not to taste until in the stories
mention thereof should permit fullest indulgence in them, the libertines
sought by every imaginable means to trip the subjects into states of
delinquency, and so procure themselves the joy of chastising their hapless
victims; to this end, the friends, having convoked an extraordinary
assembly that morning, their purpose being to deliberate upon this problem,
they added several articles to the household regulations, infraction of
which was necessarily to occasion punishment. Firstly, the wives, the small
boys, and the girls were expressly forbidden to fart anywhere save in the
friends' mouths. Instantly they were seized by the desire to break wind,
they were without delay to go and find one of the friends and administer
unto him what required to be set at large; a severe afflictive penalty
would be the reward for disobedience. Secondly, the use of bidets and ass-
wipings of any kind were absolutely outlawed; it was generally proclaimed
that all subjects without exception would hereafter never wash themselves,
and never under any circumstances wipe the ass after having shitted; that,
whenever an ass were found clean, upon the subject concerned would lie the
burden of proving it had been licked clean by one of the friends, and that
friend would have to be mentioned by name. In response to which citation,
the friend would be questioned, and, being in a position to procure himself
two pleasures, instead of only one, to wit: that of having cleaned the ass
with his tongue, and that of having punished the subject who had afforded
him this first pleasure. . . . Examples of this will be provided.
    Thirdly, a new ceremony was introduced: at the time of the morning
coffee, at the time of their entry into the girls' quarters, and also when,
after that, they passed into the boys', each of the subjects would
hereafter, one by one, step forth and, in a loud and clear voice, say to
each of the friends: "I don't care a fuck for God; there's shit in my ass,
would you like some?" and those who should fail in an intelligible voice to
pronounce both the blasphemy and the invitation, would instantly be
inscribed in the dread book. The reader will readily imagine what
difficulties the pious Adelaide and her young pupil Sophie had to surmount
before being able to utter such infamies, and their inner struggles
procured Messieurs some excellent entertainment.
    The foregoing once framed in law, they turned to consider delations and
decided to admit them; this barbarous means of multiplying vexations,
accepted by every tyrant, was warmly embraced by these. It was decided,
fourthly, that every subject who should lodge complaint against some other,
would thereby earn a one-half reduction of the punishment he was to suffer
for the next fault he committed. Messieurs were in no way deprived by this
system, because the subject who had just accused another subject could
never know the extent of the punishment a half of which, he was promised,
would be suppressed; and so it was a simple matter indeed to give him
precisely what one wished to give him, and still to persuade him he had got
off more lightly than otherwise he might. Messieurs agreed upon and
published their decision, that no delation required substantiating proof in
order to be believed, and that, to be inscribed, accusation brought by
anyone would suffice. The duennas' authority, furthermore, was increased,
and upon the basis of their slightest complaint, whether true or false, the
subject would be condemned immediately. In a word, over this small
population they established all the vexation, all the injustice one could
imagine, certain in the belief that the more harshly their tyranny was
exercised, the greater the sum of pleasures they would derive from their
privileged situation.
    All this legislation composed and voted, they visited the chamber pots.
Colombe was found guilty; her excuses hinged upon the food they had made
her eat between meals the day before; she had, said she, been unable to
resist, she was dreadfully unhappy about the whole thing, and this was the
fourth successive week she had been punished. The statement was true, and
she had only to blame her ass, which was the freshest, the sweetest, the
best-made and most endearing little ass you could hope to see. She pointed
out she'd not wiped herself, and that, she supposed, should be regarded as
a point in her favor. Durcet examined her, and having indeed discovered a
very thick and very broad patch of shit, he assured her that, in the light
of this, she'd be treated a little less rigorously. Curval, stiff at the
time, laid hands on her, and having completely cleaned her anus, he had her
produce her turd and ate it while having her frig him, periodically
interrupting his chewing to kiss her upon the mouth and to order her to
swallow, in her turn, what of her own creation he brought to her lips. They
next inspected Augustine and Sophie, who had been solemnly enjoined, after
the stools they had yielded up the night before, to remain in the most
impure state. Sophie's appearance conformed with her instructions, even
though she had slept in the Bishop's chamber, but Augustine was as neat as
a pin. Sure of her reply, she advanced proudly and said that they knew very
well she had, as was her custom, lain the night in Monsieur le Duc's
bedchamber, and that before going to sleep he had summoned her to his bed,
where he had licked her asshole while she had frigged his prick in her
mouth. When interrogated, the Duc said that he had no remembrance of the
thing (although the story was completely true), that he had fallen asleep
with his prick in Duclos' ass, that they could substantiate the fact. They
went about the matter with all possible seriousness and gravity, they sent
for Duclos who, seeing clearly what was afoot, lent her support to
everything the Duc advanced, and maintained that Augustine had been called
to Monsieur's bed only for a brief instant, that Monsieur had shitted into
Augustine's mouth and then, upon second thought, had bade her return to the
bed in order that he might eat his turd. Augustine sought to defend her
thesis and dispute Duclos' contentions, but silence was imposed upon her
and, although perfectly innocent, her name was written down.
    Amongst the boys, whose chambers they visited next, Cupidon was found
guilty; he had done the world's most gorgeous turd in his chamber pot. The
Duc snatched it up and gobbled it up while the young malefactor sucked his
member.
    All requests for chapel permissions were refused; they then went to
dine. The beautiful Constance, whom they sometimes dispensed from serving
at table because of her state, was however feeling fit that day, and made
her appearance naked; the sight of her belly, which was beginning somewhat
to swell, made Curval's head very hot; the others, seeing his treatment of
the poor creature's buttocks and breasts growing rather rough - Curval's
horror for her was doubling every day, that was plain - were swayed by her
entreaties and their common desire to preserve her fruit, at least until a
certain date, and she was allowed to absent herself from all the day's
functions, save for the narrations, wherefrom she was never excused. Curval
started in again with his frightful speeches about child-breeders, he
declared that if he had government of the country he would borrow their law
from the inhabitants of Formosa, where pregnant women under thirty are,
together with their fruit, ground in a large mortar; should that law, he
protested, be introduced into France, the population would still be twice
what it ought to be.
    Coffee came next; it was presented by Sophie, Fanny, Zelamir, and
Adonis, but served in a passing strange manner: 'twas in the children's
mouths, one had to sip it therefrom. Sophie served hers to the Duc, Fanny
Curval's, Zelamir the Bishop's, and Durcet got his out of Adonis. They
extracted a mouthful, gargled it a moment, and returned it into the mouths
of those who'd served them. Curval, who had risen from the table in a great
ferment, got stiff all over again thanks to this ceremony, and when it had
been completed, he laid hands on Fanny and discharged into her mouth,
ordering her to swallow the whey; the threats accompanying his instructions
succeeded in making the poor wretch obey without the flutter of an eyelash.
The Duc and his two other confreres collected shit or farts; having
finished their nap, they all trooped in to listen to Duclos, who spoke to
them in this wise:
    I will move with dispatch, said that amiable girl, through my last two
adventures concerning these unusual men who find their delight only in the
pain they are made to undergo, and then with your leave we will pass on to
a different variety.
    The first, while he had me frig him, naked and standing up, wanted
floods of hot water poured down on us through an opening in the ceiling;
our bodies were to be showered during the entire operation. It was quite in
vain I argued that, while not sharing in this passion of his, I was
nevertheless, like himself, to be a victim of it; he replied, assuring me I
would suffer no hurt from the experience, and that these showers were good
for one's health. I believed him and let him have his way; as this scene
transpired in his house, the temperature of the water, a critical detail,
was something lying beyond my control. It was indeed nearly boiling.
Messieurs, there is no conceiving the pleasure he felt upon being drenched
by it. As for myself, all the while operating with all possible speed, I
screeched, yes, I confess it, I screeched like a drowning tomcat; my skin
came peeling off, and I made myself the firm promise never to return to
that man's house.
    "Ah, buggerfuck!" exclaimed the Duc, "I have the strongest inclination
to give the beauteous Aline a comparable scalding."
    "Your Grace," the latter replied in a humble but decided tone, "I am
not a tomcat."
    And the naive candor in her childlike reply having fetched a chuckle
from everyone, Duclos was asked to give the second and final example of the
same genre.
    It was a great deal less painful for me, said Duclos; I had simply to
don a stout glove, then with this protected hand to take burning grit from
a frying pan I'd been heating on a stove, and, my hand filled, to rub that
fiery sand over my man's body, from head to toe. His body was so inured to
this exercise that he seemed to be covered not with skin, but with leather.
When one reached his prick, one had to seize it and massage it in a handful
of that same sand; he'd be up like a shot. Then, with the other hand, I
placed a small fire shovel, heated red-hot for this purpose, under his
balls. This rubbing with one hand, the consuming heat which rose to bake
his testicles, perhaps a little touching of my two buttocks, which I had to
keep well exposed and within reach during the operation, this combination
of elements melted him altogether and he discharged, being very careful to
spill his seed upon the hot shovel where, to his unutterable delight, he
watched it sizzle and evaporate in steam.
    "Curval," said the Duc, "there's a man who, 'twould appear to me, has
no greater fondness than have you for population."
    "It looks that way to me," Curval assented; "I make no bones about the
fact I love the idea of watching fuck burn."
    "Oh, I know all the ideas fuck inspires in you," said the Duc with a
hearty laugh. "And even were the seed to ripen, the egg to hatch, you'd
perform a combustion with the same pleasure, wouldn't you?"
    "Upon my soul, I do fear I would," said Curval, as he did I know not
what to Adelaide that brought a loud scream from her lips.
    "And who the devil do you think you are dealing with, whore?" Curval
demanded of his daughter. "What are these chirpings and squallings all
about? Remember the company you are in. Can't you see that the Duc's trying
to talk to me of burning, provoking, instilling good manners into hatched
fuck, and what are you, pray tell me, but a little something hatched out of
my balls' fuck? Duclos, I say, continue, if you please," Curval added, "for
I have the feeling this bitch's tears might make me discharge. And I'd
prefer not to."
    And here we are, said our heroine, come to details which, bringing with
them characters of a more singular piquancy, will perhaps please you more.
You know of course that in Paris we have the custom of exposing the dead
before the doors of houses. There was a particular gentleman, well placed
in society, who used to pay me twelve francs for every one of these
lugubrious objects to which, in a given evening, I could lead him; his
whole delight consisted in going up with me as near to them as possible, to
the very edge of the coffin if we were able, and once we had posted
ourselves there, I had to frig him in such wise his fuck would shoot out
upon the coffin. We used to run from one to another, would often pay our
respects to three or four in an evening; it all depended upon the number I
had located for him in advance, and we performed the same operation beside
each of them; he never touched anything but my behind while I toiled over
his prick. He was a man of about thirty, and I had his trade for at least
ten years. I'm sure that, during the period of our collaboration, I made
him discharge upon more than two thousand coffins.
    "But would he not say something during the rite?" inquired the Duc.
"Did he not speak either to you or to the corpse?"
    "He would shower invectives upon the deceased," Duclos replied; for
example: 'Here, you rascal, here, take it, you villain, you bugger, take my
fuck along with you to hell.'"
    "A very unusual mania, that one," Curval commented.
    "My friend," said the Duc, "you can be certain that man was one of our
own sort, and that he surely did not stop at that."
    "You are quite right, my Lord," spoke up Martaine, "and I shall have
occasion to bring that actor back upon the stage."
    Taking advantage of the silence which succeeded Martaine's
interjection, Duclos went on.
    Another one, said she, carrying a more or less similar fantasy a good
deal further, wanted me to keep spies on the watch near the cemeteries and
to bring in word every time there was a burial of some young girl whose
death had been caused by anything but a dangerous disease - he was very
emphatic upon that point. As soon as I had got wind of something suitable,
and he always paid me very handsomely for those discoveries, we would set
off after sundown, enter the cemetery by one means or another, and heading
at once for the grave our informant had indicated, above which the earth
had only recently been broken, we would both fall to work, dig down to the
cadaver, and when once we'd uncovered it, I'd frig him over it while he
spent his time handling it and, above all, if 'twere possible, its
buttocks. If perchance, and it frequently occurred, he stiffened a second
time, he'd therewith shit, and have me shit also, upon the corpse, and
discharge thereupon, all the while palpating whatever parts of the body he
could lay his hands on.
    "Oh, my, but that one does strike a response in me," said Curval, "and
if I have to make my confession to you here and now, I'll assure you I've
done the same thing from time to time. To be sure, I added a few little
episodes I dare say our rules prevent me from describing at this point. Be
that as it may, my prick's got monstrously fat; spread your thighs,
Adelaide. . . ."
    And I've not the faintest idea what happened next; all we know is that
the couch groaned beneath its burden, unmistakable sounds of a discharge
pealed from the President niche, and I am led to suppose that, very simply
and very virtuously, his honor the judge had just committed incest.
    "President," the Duc called over, "I'll wager you thought she was
dead."
    "Why, indeed, that's true," said Curval, "else how in the world could I
have discharged?"
    And hearing not another word from the several alcoves, Duclos brought
that evening's stories to a close with the following one:
    Lest I leave you, Messieurs, with dark images and sad thoughts, I am
going to conclude the soiree with the story of the Duc de Bonnefort's
passion. That young lord, whom I amused five or six times, and who used
frequently to see one of my close friends for the same operation, required
a woman, armed with a dildo, to frig herself naked in his presence - to
frig herself, I say, both before and behind and to keep it up for three
hours without a moment's interruption. He has a clock there to guide you,
and if you drop the work before having completed the third hour, no payment
for you. He sits opposite you, he observes you, makes you turn this way,
that way, some other way, exhorts you to ply the dildo more energetically,
he would have you go out of your mind with pleasure, and if indeed
transported by the effects of the operation, you should really swoon away
with delight, 'tis very certain you will hasten his. But if you keep your
head, at the precise instant the clock strikes the third hour, up he gets,
approaches you, and discharges in your face.
    "Truly," quoth the Bishop, "I fail to understand, Duclos, why you
didn't prefer to leave us with those other images and thoughts rather than
with this innocuous picture. They had some spice to them, some color, and
excited us powerfully, whereas here we have some sort of milksop business
which, now that the session is over, leaves us with nothing at all in our
heads."
    "No, she did the right thing, insofar as I'm concerned," said Julie,
who was lying with Durcet, "and I give her my warmest thanks. We'll all be
allowed to go to bed more peacefully now that they don't have all those
frightful ideas in their heads."
    "Ah, lovely Julie, you may be very gravely mistaken," said Durcet, "for
I never remember anything but the earlier one when the later one displeases
me; you doubt my word? why, then pray have the kindness to follow me."
    And, together with Sophie and Michette, Durcet fled into his closet to
discharge I don't know how, but none the less in a manner which must not
have suited Sophie, for she uttered a piercing scream and emerged from the
sanctuary as red as a cockscomb.
    "Well," drawled the Duc, "you surely could not have wanted to confuse
her with a corpse for that stunt; for you've just made her give out the
most furious sign of life."
    "She was afraid, that's all," Durcet explained; "ask her what I did to
her and make her tell you in a whisper."
    He sent Sophie to speak to the Duc.
    "Ah," said the latter aloud, "there's nothing in that either to warrant
screams, or, for that matter, a discharge."
    And because the supper call sounded, they suspended their conversation
and their pleasures in order to go and enjoy those of the table. The orgies
were celebrated rather quietly, and Messieurs retired to bed in good order;
not one of them had even the appearance of being drunk; and that was
extremely unusual.




THE TWENTY-SEVENTH DAY
    The denunciations, authorized on the previous day, began early that
morning; the sultanas, having remarked that, save for Rosette, they were
all listed for correction, decided that all eight of themselves ought to be
included in the game and promptly went to level accusations against her.
They reported she had spent the whole night farting, and as this was really
only a teasing they were giving her, she had the entire harem against whom
to pit her denials; her name was straightway inscribed. Everything else
moved along splendidly and, except for Sophie and Zelmire, who stuttered
just a little, the friends were thrilled by the new compliment they had
from these brazen little hussies: "God's fuck, I've an assful of shit,
wouldst care for some?" And, as a matter of fact, there was shit everywhere
to be had indeed, for, from fear of some temptation to wash, the
governesses had removed every pot, every receptacle, every towel, and all
water. The diet of meat but no bread was beginning to warm all those little
unwashed mouths, Messieurs noticed that there was already a very
appreciable difference in the little girls' breaths.
    "Damn my eyes!" exclaimed Curval as he withdrew his tongue from
Augustine's gullet; "that now signifies at least something; kissing this
one makes me stiff."
    Everyone agreed there had been a distinct improvement.
    As there was nothing new or out of the ordinary until coffee, we are
going to transport the reader directly to the salon. Coffee was served by
Sophie, Zelmire, Giton, and Narcisse. The Duc said he was perfectly sure
Sophie was the sort of girl who could discharge; the experiment, in his
view, had absolutely to be made. He asked Durcet to keep a close eye on her
and, laying her upon a divan, he simultaneously polluted the edges of her
vagina, her clitoris, and her asshole, at first with his fingers, next with
his tongue; and Nature triumphed: after fifteen minutes of this, the lovely
girl became uneasy, troubled, she flushed crimson, she sighed, she panted,
Durcet drew Curval's and the Bishop's attention to all these
manifestations, for 'twas they who'd doubted her discharging capacities;
the Duc suggested that, since he had always been confident of them, it was
for the others to convince themselves, and so they all fell to imbibing
that young fuck, and the little rascal's cunt left all their lips moist.
The Duc could not resist the experiment's lubricious appeal; he got up and,
squatting over the child, discharged upon her half-opened fur, then used
his fingers to work as much as possible of his seed into the interior of
her cunt. His head inspired by what he was watching, Curval seized the
little one and demanded something other than fuck of her; she tendered her
cunning little ass, the President glued his mouth to it, the intelligent
reader will have no trouble guessing what he received therefrom. Zelmire
was meanwhile amusing the Bishop: she first frigged, then sucked his
fundament. And all that while, Curval was having himself frigged by
Narcisse, whose ass he kissed ardently. However, no one but the Duc lost
his fuck; Duclos had announced some pretty stories for that afternoon
which, she promised, would outdo what she had served up the day before, and
Messieurs were disposed to save their forces for the auditorium. The hour
having come, they passed to their alcoves, and that interesting girl
expressed herself in the following manner:
    A man of whose circumstances and existence I had not previously known
anything, she said, and about whom I was later to learn only a little, and,
therefore, a man about whom I can give you no better than an imperfect
portrait, sent me a note, and in it besought me to come to his house, in
the rue Blanche-du-Rempart, at nine o'clock in the evening. I had no reason
to be suspicious, his note said; although I had no acquaintance of him, I
could be certain that neither would I have cause to complain were I to come
as he bade me do. Two louis accompanied the letter, and despite my usual
cautiousness, which ought certainly to have opposed my accepting the
invitation of a man of whom I knew nothing, despite all that, I took the
risk, trusting to I know not what intuition which, in a very low voice,
told me I had nothing to fear. And so I went; and I arrived at the given
address. I am greeted by a valet who informs me that I am to undress
entirely, for, he explains, it is only if I am naked that he can introduce
me into his master's apartment; I execute the order, and directly he sees
me in the state desired, he takes me by the hand, and having led me through
several intervening chambers, finally knocks upon a door. It opens, I
enter, the valet withdraws, the door closes again; but, with what regards
the amount of light in the room, there was precious little difference
between that place and the inside of a hat, neither light nor air
penetrated into that room from any opening whatever. No sooner am I in than
a naked man comes up to me and seizes me without a word; I keep my wits
about me, persuaded that the whole thing surely boiled down to nothing more
than a little fuck to be shed by one means or another; that job once over
with, I say to myself, I'll be quits with this whole nocturnal ceremony.
And so I waste not a moment placing my hand upon his groin, with the
intention of draining the venom from the monster as rapidly as possible. I
discover a very large prick, very hard and also very rebellious, but
scarcely have I touched it than my fingers are forced away: my opponent
seems not to want me to find out anything about him; I am edged toward a
stool and made to sit down. The unknown libertine plumps himself down near
me, and grasping my tits one after the other, he squeezes and wrings them
so violently that I protest that he is hurting me. Wherewith his
brutalities cease, he leads me to an elevated sofa, and has me stretch out
flat upon it; then seating himself between my parted legs, he falls to
doing to my buttocks what he has just left off doing to my breasts: he
palpates and squeezes them with unparalleled violence, he spreads them,
compresses them again, kneads them, mauls, kisses, and bites them, he sucks
my asshole, and as these reiterated attacks were less dangerous on that
side than they might have been on the other, I held my peace and put up no
resistance, and as I let him toil over my hindquarters I wondered what
could be the purpose of this mysteriousness when, after all, the things he
was doing were perfectly ordinary. I was trying to guess what he was
driving at when all of a sudden my man began to utter bloodcurdling
shrieks:
    "Run for it, you damned whore, run for it, I tell you," he shouted,
"get out of here, you bitch, for I'm discharging and won't be held
responsible for your life!"
    As you may readily imagine, my first movement was to leap to my feet; I
spied a feeble glimmer of light - it was coming through the doorway I had
entered - I dashed toward it - ran into the valet who had received me at
the door - flung myself into his arms. . . . He gave me back my clothes,
also gave me two louis, I left the place at once, very pleased to have got
off so cheaply.
    "And you had excellent cause to congratulate yourself," said Martaine,
"for what you were exposed to was merely a diminutive version of his
ordinary passion. I shall present the man to you again, Messieurs," that
worldly dame continued, "but in a more dangerous aspect."
    "I expect my characterization of him will be even darker," said
Desgranges, "and I wish to join Madame Martaine in assuring you that you
were exceedingly fortunate to have had to put up with no more than you did,
for the same gentleman has far more unusual passions."
    "But let us wait and hear his entire story before arguing the point,"
the Duc suggested, "and, Duclos, make haste to tell us another so as to
remove from our minds the image of an individual who will unfailingly
arouse us if we dwell any longer on him."
    The libertine with whom next I came into contact, Duclos went on,
wished to have a woman who had a very handsome bust, and as that is one of
my beauties, after having exposed it to his scrutiny, he preferred me to
any of my girls. But what use did that wretched libertine design to make of
both my breasts and my face? He had me lie down, entirely naked, upon a
divan, straddled my chest, desposited his prick between my dugs, ordered me
to squeeze them together as tightly as I was able, and after a brief
career, the wicked fellow inundated them with fuck while expectorating at
least twenty mouthfuls of thick spittle, all of which landed on my face.
    "Well," grumbled Adelaide, in whose face the Duc had just been
spitting, "I fail to see any necessity for imitating that infamy. Are you
done now?" she continued as she wiped her face. But the Duc had not
discharged.
    "I'll finish when it suits my convenience, sweet child," the Duc
replied to her; "bear well in mind that, alive though you may be, you are
only so in order to obey and to let be done to you what we please. Proceed
with your story, Duclos, for I might do something worse and, adoring this
beautiful creature as I do," he said, resorting to a bit of persiflage,
"I'd hardly wish entirely to outrage her."
    I know not, Messieurs, Duclos said as she resumed her discourse,
whether you have ever heard tell of the Commander de Saint-Elme's passion.
He had a gaming house where all who came to risk their money were deftly
fleeced; but the most extraordinary part of it all was that cheating his
visitors used to make the Commander's prick stiffen: every time he'd pick
someone's pocket he'd discharge in his breeches, and a woman with whom I
used to be on the very best terms, and whom he had been keeping for a long
time, once told me that sometimes the thing would heat him to such a point
that he would be obliged to go to her to seek some relief from the ardor
devouring him. He did not confine himself to robbing customers at roulette;
every other kind of theft was just as attractive in his eyes, and no
article was safe when he was in the vicinity. Were he to dine at your
table, he would make off with the silverware; when he entered your study,
he'd pilfer your jewels; if near your pocket, he'd appropriate your
snuffbox or your handkerchief. Everything was subject to seizure: he took a
keen interest in anything provided he could get his hands on it, and
everything gave him a stout erection, and would even cause him to discharge
once he had made it his own.
    But in that eccentricity of his he was certainly less outstanding than
the parliamentary judge with whom I had to cope shortly after my arrival at
Fournier's establishment, and whom I had as a client for many years: his
being a rather ticklish case, he would deal with no one but me.
    The jurisconsult had a little apartment, which he rented the year
around, looking out upon the place de Grève; an old servant lived as a
caretaker in the apartment, and her only duties were these two: to keep the
premises in good order and to send word to her employer whenever
preparations for an execution were visible upon the square. The judge would
immediately get in touch with me, tell me to hold myself in readiness; he
would disguise himself and come to fetch me in a cab, and we would repair
to his little apartment.
    In the salon the casement window was placed in such a manner it
commanded a direct view of, and was situated near, the scaffold; we would
post ourselves there, the judge and I, behind a latticework screen upon one
of whose horizontal slats he rested an excellent pair of opera glasses, and
while waiting for the patient to make his appearance, Themis' wise henchman
would amuse himself upon a bed which had been drawn close to the window;
while waiting, I say, he would kiss my ass, an episode which, by the by,
pleased him enormously. Finally, the crowd's hubbub would announce the
victim's arrival, the man of the gown would return to his place at the
window and would have me take mine beside him, with the injunction to frig
his prick gently, proportioning my strokes to the progress of the execution
he was about to watch, in such sort that the sperm would not escape until
the moment the patient rendered up his soul unto God. Everything was
arranged, the criminal mounted upon the platform, the jurist contemplated
him; the nearer the patient approached to death, the more furious became
the villain's prick in my hands. The axe was raised, the axe was brought
down, 'twas the instant he discharged: "Ah, gentle Jesus!" he'd say,
"double-fucked Christ! How I'd like to be the executioner myself, and how
much better than that I'd swing the blade!"
    Moreover, his pleasures' impressions would be measured by the method of
execution, a hanging produced in him little more than an exceedingly mild
sensation, a man being broken on the wheel threw him into a delirium, but
were the criminal to be either burned alive or quartered, my client would
swoon away from pleasure. Man or woman, it made no difference to him.
    "I dare say," he once remarked, "that only a pregnant woman would have
a stronger effect upon me, and, unfortunately, the thing cannot be brought
about."
    "But, your honor," I said to him upon another occasion, "through your
public function you have cooperated in the destruction of this luckless
victim."
    "Assuredly, yes," he replied, "and that precisely is what creates all
the diversion for me; I have been judging for a good thirty years and have
never pronounced any but the death sentence."
    "And do you suppose," I said, "that you have not, if only a little, to
reproach yourself for the death of these people, which so resembles
murder?"
    "Splendid," he murmured; "must one, however, look at the matter so
closely?"
    "But in society such a thing is called a horror," I protested.
    "Oh," said he, "one has got to learn how to make the best of the
horror; there is in horror matter to produce an erection, you see, and the
reason therefor is quite simple: this thing, however frightful you wish to
imagine it, ceases to be horrible for you immediately it acquires the power
to make you discharge; it is, hence, no longer horrible save in the eyes of
others, but who is to assure me that the opinion of others, almost always
erroneous or faulty in every other connection, is not equally so in this
instance? There is nothing," he pursued, "either fundamentally good, nor
anything fundamentally evil; everything is relative, relative to our point
of view, that is to say, to our manners, to our opinions, to our
prejudices. This point once established, it is extremely possible that
something, perfectly indifferent in itself, may indeed be distasteful in
your eyes, but may be most delicious in mine; and immediately I find it
pleasing, immediately I find it amusing, regardless of our inability to
agree in assigning a character to it, should I not be a fool to deprive
myself of it merely because you condemn it? Come, come, my dear Duclos, a
man's life is something of such slight importance that one may sport with
it as much as one likes, just as one might with a cat's life or with that
of a dog; 'tis up to the feeble and weak to defend themselves, they have
virtually the same weapons we possess. And since you are so scrupulous," my
man added, "my stars! what would you think of the fantasy of one of my
friends!"
    And, with your Lordships' leave, I shall terminate the evening by
giving, as my fifth story, the account of the taste the judge related me.
    This philosophical jurist told me that his friend would deal only with
women scheduled to be executed. The nearer the moment that they are
delivered to him borders on the moment they are going to perish, the better
he pays for them. But he insists that the conference be held after they
have been notified of their sentence. Thanks to his position in society
within easy reach of this sort of prize, he never lets one slip through his
fingers and," my informant went on, "I have seen him pay up to one hundred
louis for this kind of tête-à-tête. However, he does not carnally enjoy
them, or rather he requires nothing of them but that they exhibit their
buttocks and shit before his eyes; for taste of shit, he maintains, there
is nothing to equal what one gets from a woman who has just heard the death
penalty pronounced against her. He will go to any lengths to obtain these
private interviews, and of course, as you may well suppose, he does not
wish to be known by the victim. He sometimes passes himself off as the
confessor, or at other times as a friend of the family, and his proposals
are always fortified by the promise that, if they indulge his little
whimsies, he may very possibly be able to be of help to them.
    "And when he has finished, when he has satisfied himself, by what, my
dear Duclos," said the judge, "do you fancy he concludes his operation?
Just as I do, my worthy friend; he reserves his fuck for the climax, and
releases it at last when before his delighted gaze the condemned person
expires."
    "Ah, that's true villainy," I told him.
    "Villainy?" he interrupted. "My dear child, all that's mere verbiage,
prattle. Nothing's villainous if it causes an erection, and the single
crime that exists in this world is to refuse oneself anything that might
produce a discharge."
    "And so it was he refused himself nothing," said Martaine; "Madame
Desgranges and I shall have, or so I hope, occasion to entertain the
company with several lubricious and criminal anecdotes relating to the same
personage."
    "Excellent," said Curval, "for there's a man I'm already hugely fond
of. That's just the way one should reason about one's pleasures, and his
philosophy pleases me infinitely. It is truly incredible the way man,
already restricted in all his amusements, in all his faculties, seeks
further to narrow the scope of his existence through his contemptible
prejudices. For example, it is not commonly suspected what limitations he
who has raised up murder as a crime has imposed upon all his delights; he
has deprived himself of a hundred joys, each more delicious than the other,
by daring to adopt the odious illusion which founds that particular
nonsense. What the devil difference can it make to Nature whether there are
one, ten, twenty, five hundred more or fewer human beings on earth?
Conquerors, heroes, tyrants - do they inhibit themselves by that absurd
law? Do you hear them saying that we ought not do unto others that which
onto ourselves we would not have done? Forsooth, my friends, I tell you
frankly that I tremble, I groan when I hear fools dare to tell me that such
is the law of Nature, etc. . . . Merciful Heaven! all athirst for crimes
and murders, 'tis to see to it they are committed, to inspire them Nature
has wrought her law, and the one commandment she graves deep in our hearts
is to satisfy ourselves at no matter whose expense. But patience; I shall
perhaps soon have a better occasion to expand upon these questions, I have
made the profoundest study of them, and, in communicating my conclusions to
you, I hope to convince you, as convinced am I, that the single way of
serving Nature is blindly to respond to her desires, of whatever kind they
may be, because, for the sake of maintaining the divine balance she has
struck universally, vice being quite as necessary to the general scheme as
virtue, she is wont to urge us to do this, now to do that, depending upon
what is at the moment necessary to her design. Yes, my friends, I shall
someday discuss all that before you, but for the moment I must be still,
for I have fuck that needs spilling, that devilish fellow at the executions
has made my poor balls swell dreadfully."
    And the President departed for the boudoir at the end of the corridor,
with him went Desgranges and Fanchon, his two dear friends, for they were
as great scoundrels as he; and with him also went Aline, Sophie, Hebe,
Antinoüs, and Zephyr. I have little definite information upon what the
libertine took it into his head to do in the midst of those seven persons,
but his absence was prolonged and he was heard to shout: "Come, damn it,
turn this way, do you hear? But that's not what I told you to do" and other
ill-humored remarks interspersed with oaths to which he was known to be
greatly addicted while enacting scenes of debauchery; the women finally
returned, their faces very red, their hair very untidy, and with the air of
having been furiously mauled and pawed in every sense. Meanwhile, the Duc
and his two friends had scarcely been marking time, but of their number
only the Bishop had discharged, and in a manner so extraordinary that we
had better say nothing about it at present.
    They went to the supper table, where Curval philosophized a little
more, for, with that man, passions had not the least influence upon
doctrines; firm in his principles, he was just as much an atheist, an
iconoclast, a criminal after having shed his fuck as when, before, he had
been in a lubricious ferment, and that precisely is how all wise, level-
headed people should be. Never ought fuck be allowed to dictate or affect
one's principles; 'tis for one's principles to regulate one's manner of
shedding it. And whether one is stiff, or whether one is not, one's
philosophy, acting independently of passions, should always remain the
same.
    The amusement at the orgies consisted in a verification which had not
until then been undertaken, but which was interesting none the less:
Messieurs were moved to decide who amonst the boys, who amongst the girls
had the most beautiful ass. And so, first of all, they had the eight boys
form a line: they were standing erect . . . yes, but, on the other hand,
they were made to bend forward just a little, for that is the only way
properly to judge an ass. The examination was both very long and very
severe, opinions clashed, opinions were reversed, rectified, each ass was
inspected fifteen times, and the apple was generally accorded to Zephyr; it
was unanimously agreed that it was physically impossible to find anything
more perfect, better molded, better cleft.
    Next they turned to the girls, who adopted the same posture.
Deliberation was at first very slow, very prolonged, it proved all but
impossible to decide from amongst Augustine, Zelmire, and Sophie.
Augustine, taller, better made than the other two, would doubtless have
triumphed had the jury been composed of painters; but libertines call
rather for grace than exactitude, for fullness sooner than regularity.
There was in her disfavor a shade too much of the slender and of the
delicate; the two other contestants offered a carnation so fresh, so
healthy, so plump, buttocks so fair and so round, a back whose line
descended so voluptuously, that Augustine was eliminated from further
consideration. But how were they to decide between the two who remained?
After ten rounds of balloting, opinion was still equally divided.
    At last, Zelmire won the prize; the two charming winners were
assembled, were kissed, handled, frigged for the rest of the evening,
Zelmire was ordered to frig Zephyr who, discharging like a musket,
afforded, in the throes of pleasure, the most entrancing spectacle; then,
in his turn, he frigged the young lady who all but fainted away in his
arms, and all these scenes, of unspeakable lubricity, brought about the
loss of the Duc's fuck and of his brother's, but only mildly stirred Curval
and Durcet, who agreed that what they needed were scenes far less Arcadian,
far less ethereal if their weary old souls were to be cheered, and that all
these winsome frolickings were only good for youngsters. They went to bed,
and Curval, plunged into the thick of fresh infamies, compensated himself
for the tender pastorals he had been obliged to witness.




THE TWENTY-EIGHTH DAY
    'Twas a wedding day, and the turn of Cupidon and Rosette to be united
in holy matrimony, and by still another fateful combination of accidents,
both were listed for punishment that evening. As no one was found at fault
that morning, that entire part of the day was devoted to the wedding
ceremony, and when it was over, the newlyweds were brought into the salon
to see what they would do together. The mysteries of Venus were, as we
know, often celebrated in these children's presence; although none of them
had so far taken an active part in them, they were well enough grounded in
the theory of the thing to be able to execute about everything that there
is to do. Cupidon, his prick very rigidly aloft, insinuated his little peg
between Rosette's thighs, and she lent herself to his maneuvers with all
the candor of the most thorough innocence; the young lad was managing so
nicely that he was probably well on the way to success when the Bishop,
taking him in his arms, had put in himself what, I fancy, the child would
greatly have liked to put into his little wife; all the while he perforated
the Bishop's ample hole, he regarded her with eyes which declared his
regrets, but she was herself soon occupied: the Duc thigh-fucked her.
Curval stepped up in the lewdest fashion to fondle the ass of the Bishop's
little fucker, and as that pretty little ass was found, in keeping with
instructions, in the desired state, he licked it and began to stiffen.
Durcet was up to the same tricks with the little girl the Duc was holding
with her chest pressed to his.
    However, no one discharged, and Messieurs went in to dine; the young
bride and groom, who had been admitted to the table, also appeared to serve
coffee, together with Augustine and Zelamir. And the voluptuous Augustine,
deeply distressed over not having won the prize for beauty the night
before, had, as though sulking, left her hair in just that kind of disarray
which rendered her a thousand times more intriguing to see. Curval was
stirred by the sight, and, examining her buttocks:
    "I fail to understand how it happened that this little rascal did not
win the palm," said he, "for devil take me if in all the world there exists
a finer ass than this one here."
    So saying, he pried it open, and inquired of Augustine whether she were
ready to do her old friend a great kindness. "Oh, yes," she replied, "a
very great one indeed, for I really have to get rid of what I have there."
Curval rests her upon a sofa and, kneeling before that radiant behind, he
devours its turd in a flash.
    "Sacred name of God," says he, licking his lips, turning toward his
colleagues, and pointing to the prick straining against his abdomen, "I'm
in a state for furiously undertaking something or other."
    "And what would it be?" asked the Duc, who was very fond of making the
President utter horrors when he was in that particular state.
    "What?" said Curval. "Why, whatever infamy you wish to propose, even
were it to dismember Nature and unhinge the universe."
    "Come along now," said Durcet, upon seeing him cast furious glances in
the direction of Augustine, "come along, let's go listen to Duclos, it's
story time. I'm persuaded," he went on, addressing the others, "that if he
gets the bit in his teeth, that poor little duckling is going to spend a
trying quarter of an hour."
    "Oh, yes!" said the inflamed President, "a very trying one, I can vouch
for that."
    "Curval," said the Duc, whose prick was nodding in the air like a
vengeful lance, and who had just finished eliciting some shit from Rosette,
"let the others entrust the harem to the two of us, and two hours from now
we'll have turned in a capital performance."
    Durcet and the Bishop, at the moment calmer than their coproprietors,
each took one of them by the arm, and it was thus, that is to say, breeches
about their ankles and pricks aloft, that those libertines made their
solemn entrance into the auditorium, where the assembly was already
gathered and ready to hear Duclos' latest offerings; she, having
anticipated, from those two gentlemen's state, that she would soon be
interrupted, began in these terms:
    A nobleman at the court, aged about fifty-five, came and asked me for
one of the prettiest girls I could lay my hands on. He said nothing to
indicate his favorite mania, and to satisfy any need he might have, I gave
him a young dressmaker who had never yet attended a party and who was
incontestably one of the loveliest creatures France could boast. I
introduce them to each other and, curious to observe what is about to
transpire, I quickly repair to my post at the spy hole.
    "Now where in the devil has Madame Duclos been," he opened by saying,
"to find an ugly chit like yourself? Has she been raking over someone's
dung heap? You must have been servicing a couple of soldiers when they came
to fetch you here."
    And the young lady, blushing to the ears with shame, for she had been
forewarned of nothing, was at a loss to know what tack to take.
    "Well, get your clothes off then," the courtier continued. "My God, but
you're a clumsy slut! I've seen ugly whores in my life, but never one the
likes of you, nor so stupid. Well, then? Are we going to be able to get
this over with today? Ah, yes, there's that body they've been praising to
the skies. Sacred Mother, what are those dugs! you'd think they'd been
grafted from an old cow."
    And he fell to handling them brutally.
    "And this belly! What could have caused those wrinkles? You surely
haven't whelped twenty children at your age?"
    "Not one, Monsieur, I assure you."
    "Oh, I see, not one, eh! That's how all these bitches talk; listen to
them a while and they'll be trying to convince you they're all virgins. . .
. Well, move about, will you, turn around . . . infamous ass you've got
dragging there. Flabby, disgusting buttocks - I understand now why they
described you as unusual. It must have taken a lot of kicks in the ass to
have arranged things this way."
    And you will allow me, Messieurs, to remind you that the ass he was
referring to was as beautiful an ass as one could find anywhere. Be that as
it may, the girl began to grow upset; I could almost make out the
flutterings of her little heart, and I saw her lovely eyes become worried,
then misty. And the more troubled she became, the more energetically the
scoundrel sought to mortify her. I cannot possibly remember all the
ungenerous things he said to her; one would not dare say anything more
stinging, more biting, to the vilest, most infamous of creatures. Finally,
a lump welled up in her throat and her tears began to flow; 'twas for this
last development the libertine, who had been polluting himself with might
and main, had reserved the bouquet of his litanies. 'Tis impossible, once
again, to render for you all the horrible observations he made upon her
skin, her figure, her features, the sickening odor he declared she exhaled,
how he criticized her bearing, her mind; in brief, he hunted up everything,
he invented everything to humiliate her pride, and discharged all over her
while vomiting atrocities a street sweeper would never dare utter. This
scene had a most amusing outcome: the girl seemed to have taken it as a
lesson, and it prompted her to take an oath; she swore never again to
expose herself to such an adventure, and a week later I learned she had
entered a convent for the rest of her life. I related this to the young
man, who found it all prodigiously funny, and who later asked me for
someone else to convert.
    Another, Duclos continued, requested me to find him extremely sensitive
girls who were awaiting news of an event whose unfavorable outcome might
cause them an access of profoundest grief. I had unending difficulty
finding anything to answer this description, and it was virtually
impossible to pawn off a makeshift upon the connoisseur. He knew what he
was about, had been playing the game for ages, and one glance was
sufficient to tell him whether the blow he was to strike would reach the
mark. And so I made no effort to deceive him, and managed somehow always to
get him girls who were in the mental state he desired. I one day produced a
maid who was expecting word from Dijon of a young man she idiolized and
whose name was Valcourt. I presented the girl to the libertine.
    "Where do you come from, Mademoiselle?" he asked her in a decent and
respectful tone.
    "From Dijon, Monsieur."
    "From Dijon? Why, that's a strange coincidence, for I have just this
instant had a letter from Dijon containing tidings which have sore
distressed me."
    "And what is the trouble?" the girl asked with great interest; "I know
everyone in the town, this news you have heard may be of some importance to
me."
    "Oh, not at all," our man replied, "it relates only to me; it has to do
with the death of a young man - I was keenly fond of him, he had just
married a girl whom my brother, who also lives in Dijon, had found for him,
a girl to whom he was passionately attached, and the day after the wedding,
he suddenly died."
    "His name, Monsieur, if you please?"
    "His name was Valcourt; he was originally from Paris," and the
libertine named the street and the number at which Valcourt had lived. "You
cannot possibly have known him, though."
    But the young girl had collapsed in a faint.
    Therewith our libertine, beside himself with delight, muttered a string
of oaths, unbuttoned his breeches, and set to frigging himself upon her
supine body. "Ah, by Christ! that's what I want. Make haste now, hurry," he
said to himself, "the buttocks, I only need the buttocks to discharge."
    And turning her over, and pulling up her skirts, he darts seven or
eight jets of fuck upon the motionless girl's ass, and then takes himself
off without a thought either for the consequences of what he has said, or
for what will become of the unhappy creature.
    "And did she croak as a result?" inquired Curval, who was being fucked
at a great rate.
    "No," Duclos admitted, "but she fell ill and lay six weeks at death's
door."
    "Very fine stunt, oh my, yes!" said the Duc. "But," that scoundrel went
on, "I should have preferred it had your man chosen the period of her
menstruation for his disclosure."
    "Yes," Curval said, "quite. But, Monsieur le Duc, tell us all the
truth: your prick's in the air, I can sense it from here: you would have
preferred that she drop dead on the spot."
    "Well, have it your own way," called back the Duc. "Since you'd wish it
so, I consent, for, you know, I've not many scruples over a girl's death."
    "Durcet," said the Bishop, "if you don't send those two rascals out to
discharge, there'll be a merry to-do this evening."
    "Ah, by the Almighty's balls," Curval shouted toward the Bishop's
niche, "you're afraid for your flock. But what difference would two more or
two less make? Well, Monsieur le Duc, you've heard Monseigneur the Bishop's
suggestion, let's go to the boudoir, but we'll go together, for it's all
too evident these other gentlemen wish to avoid a scandal tonight."
    No sooner said than done; and our two libertines had themselves
followed by Zelmire, Augustine, Sophie, Colombe, Cupidon, Narcisse,
Zelamir, Adonis, escorted by Bum-Cleaver, Invictus, Therèse, Fanchon,
Constance, and Julie. A brief interval ensued, then two or three women's
screams were heard, then the bellowings of our two lechers, who were
disgorging their fuck simultaneously. Augustine reappeared dabbing at her
bleeding nose, Adelaide's breast was covered by a scarf. As for Julie,
always libertine enough and clever enough to get through any ordeal
unscathed, she was laughing like one in hysterics and saying that had it
not been for her they'd never have been able to discharge. The rest of the
troupe returned; Zelamir and Adonis still had their buttocks smeared with
fuck. Having assured their confreres they had conducted themselves with all
possible decency and modesty, that they might have nothing to be reproached
for, and that now, perfectly calm, they were in a fit state to listen,
Messieurs gave Duclos the signal to proceed and she did so in the following
terms:
    I sincerely regret Monsieur de Curval's precipitate haste to relieve
his needs, said that superb creature, for I had two pregnant-woman stories
to tell him, and they would perhaps have afforded him some real pleasure. I
know his taste for the fruit-laden, and I am certain that, had he a flicker
of warmth left in his bowels, these two tales would divert him.
    "Tell them all the same," said Curval. "You are aware, I trust, that
fucking has not the least effect upon my sentiments, and that the moment
when I am most infatuated with evil is always the moment after I have
performed it."
    Very well, said Duclos, I have seen a man whose mania was straitly
connected with observing a woman give birth; he would frig himself when
seeing her labor pains begin, and used to discharge squarely upon the
infant's head directly it hove into view.
    A second would perch a seven-month-pregnant woman upon an isolated
pedestal at least fifteen feet high. She was obliged to keep her balance,
and her mind on what she was about, for if by mischance she were to have
grown dizzy, she and her issue would have been definitively ruined. The
libertine I speak of, very little affected by the situation of the poor
creature he paid for her acrobatic skill, kept her where she was until he
had discharged, and frigged himself before her while exclaiming: "Ah, the
lovely statue, the beautiful ornament, the empress upon her dais!"
    "Well, Curval, you'd have shaken that column, wouldn't you, eh?" said
the Duc.
    "Ah, not at all, you're mistaken; I have too much respect for Nature
and her works. Is not the most interesting of them all the propagation of
our species? is it not a kind of miracle we ought to adore incessantly, and
ought we not to have the warmest interest in those who perform it? For my
part, I never see a pregnant woman without being melted; think for a moment
what a marvelous thing is a woman who, just like an oven, can make a little
snot hatch deep in her vagina. Is there anything more beautiful, anything
quite as fetching as that? Constance, dear girl, come hither, I beseech
you, come let me kiss the sanctuary wherein, at this very moment, such a
profound mystery is in progress."
    And as he found her right there in his alcove, he was not long
searching after the temple he wished to minister to. But there is reason to
suppose Constance took a somewhat different view of his intentions, or, at
least, that she only half believed his professions, for an instant later
she was heard to vent a scream which bore no relationship at all to the
consequences of a reverence or an homage. Then silence closed again;
observing that all lay quiet, Duclos concluded her narrations with the
following little tale:
    I knew a man, said she, whose passion consisted in hearing children
wail and cry; he had to have a mother with a child of no more than three or
four. He required this mother to give her offspring a sound thrashing; it
had to be done before him, and when the little creature, aroused by this
treatment, began to bawl, the mother had next to catch hold of the rogue's
prick and frig it industriously, directing the glans at the child, in whose
face he would discharge when the little one was singing his loudest.
    "Now, I wager," the Bishop said to Curval, "that fellow was no more a
friend of increase than you are."
    "I dare say not," Curval conceded. "He must be, according to the
argument of a lady reputed to possess a great fund of wit, he must be, I
say, a great scoundrel; for, in keeping with the development of her
thought, any man who loves neither animals, nor children, nor swollen-
bellied women, is a monster fit to be put on the rack. Well, by that
agreeable old fool's judgment, my case is heard and decided and writ off
the agenda," said the President, "for I certainly have no affection for any
one of those three things."
    And as it was late, and as interruptions had consumed a sizable portion
of the seance, they went straight to supper. At table, they debated the
following questions: what need has man for sensibility? and is it or is it
not useful to his happiness? Curval proved that it was nothing if not
dangerous, and that it was the first sentiment, this one of human kindness,
one had to extirpate from children, by early making them grow accustomed to
the most ferocious spectacles. Each of them having differently approached
the problem, by many and long detours they all finally ended up agreeing
with Curval. Supper over, the Duc and he were of the opinion the women and
youngsters should be sent to bed, and they proposed the orgies be made an
entirely masculine tournament; everyone concurred, the idea was adopted,
Messieurs enchambered themselves with the eight fuckers and spent almost
all the night having themselves fucked and drinking liqueurs. They stumbled
to bed two hours before dawn, and the morrow brought with it both events
and stories the reader will perhaps find entertaining if he will give
himself the trouble to read what follows.




THE TWENTY-NINTH DAY
    There is a proverb - and what splendid things proverbs are - there is
one, I say, which maintains that the appetite is restored by eating. This
proverb, coarse, nay, vulgar though it be, has none the less a very
extensive significance: to wit, that, by dint of performing horrors, one's
desire to commit additional ones is whetted, and that the more of them one
commits, the more of them one desires.
    Well, such exactly was the case with our insatiable libertines. Through
unpardonable harshness, through a detestable refinement of debauchery,
they, as we know, had condemned their wives to render them the vilest and
most unclean services upon their emergence from the privy. They were not
content with that, and on the 29th of November they proclaimed a new (which
appeared to have been inspired by the previous night's sodomistical
libertinage), a new law, I say, which ruled that, as of the 1st of
December, those wives would serve as the only pots to their masters' needs,
and that the said needs, both the greater and the lesser, would never be
executed anywhere save in their wives' mouths; that whenever Messieurs were
moved to satisfy these fundamental urges, they would be followed about by
four sultanas who would, once the urge had been satisfied, render them the
service which heretofore the wives had rendered them and which the said
wives would hereafter be unable to render them, since they were going to
have graver employment; that the four officiating sultanas would be Colombe
for Curval, Hebe for the Duc, Rosette for the Bishop, and Michette for
Durcet; and that the least error or failure committed in the course of
either of these operations, whether in the course of that involving the
wives or in that other involving the four little girls, would be punished
with prodigious severity.
    The poor women had no sooner learned of this new regulation than they
wept and wrung their hands, unfortunately, it was all but in vain. It was
however ordained that each wife would serve her husband, and Aline the
Bishop, and that for this one operation Messieurs would not be allowed to
exchange them. Two of the duennas were ordered to take turns presenting
themselves for the same service, and the time for their rendering it was
unalterably fixed at the hour Messieurs would depart the evening orgies; it
was decided that Messieurs would at all times proceed to this ritual in
each other's company, that while the elders were operating, the four
sultanas, while waiting to give the service required of them, would make
conspicuous display of their asses, and that the elders would move from one
anus to the next, to press it, open it, and encourage it generally to
function. This regulation promulgated, the friends proceeded that morning
to administer the punishments which had not been distributed the night
before because of the decision to perform the orgies with the assistance of
men only.
    The operation was undertaken in the sultanas' quarters; they were all
eight taken care of, and after them came Adelaide, Aline, and Cupidon, who
also were included upon the fatal list; the ceremony, with the details and
all the protocol observed under such circumstances, dragged on for nearly
four hours, at the end of which their Lordships descended to dinner, their
heads swimming, especially Curval's head, for he, prodigiously cherishing
these exercises, never took part in them without the most definite
erection. As for the Duc, he had discharged in the thick of the fray, and
so had Durcet. This latter, who was beginning to develop a very mischievous
libertine testiness toward his wife Adelaide, was unable to discipline her
without shudders of pleasure which ultimately loosened his seed.
    Dinner was, as usual, followed by coffee; Messieurs, disposed to have
some neat little asses on hand, had appointed Zephyr and Giton to serve the
cups, and to these two might have added a large number of others; but there
was not one sultana whose ass was in anything like an appropriate state. In
accordance with schedule, the coffee-serving team was rounded out by
Colombe and Michette. Curval, examining Colombe's ass, the bedaubed
condition whereof, in part the President's own work, generated some
singular desires in him, thrust his prick between her thighs from behind,
while so doing fondling her buttocks vivaciously; now and again, as it
moved to and fro, his engine, as if through maladdress, nudged up against
the dear little hole he would have given a kingdom to perforate. For a
moment he studied it attentively.
    "O sacred God," he said, turning to his friends, "I'll pay the society
two hundred louis on the spot for leave to fuck this ass."
    Reason prevailed, however, he kept a grip upon himself and did not even
discharge. But the Bishop had Zephyr discharge into his mouth and yielded
up his own sanctified fuck as he swallowed that delicious child's; Durcet
had himself kicked in the ass by Giton, then had Giton shit, and remained
chaste. Messieurs removed to the auditorium, where each father, by an
arrangement which was encountered rather frequently, had his daughter on
his couch beside him; breeches lowered, they listened to our talented
storyteller's five tales.
    It seemed as though, since the day I had so exactly executed Fournier's
pious will, happiness smiled ever more warmly upon my house, said that
distinguished whore. Never had I had so many wealthy acquaintances.
    The Benedictine prior, among my most faithful clients, one day came to
tell me that, having heard of a quite remarkable fantasy and having
subsequently observed it performed by one of his friends who was wild about
it, he had a powerful desire to enact it himself, and hence he asked me for
a girl well fledged with hair. I gave him a big creature of twenty-eight
years who had veritable thickets both under the arms and upon her mound.
"Splendid," said the prior upon beholding the goods, "that's just what I
need." And as he and I were very closely attached to each other, as we had
taken many a gay tumble together, he made no objections when I requested
leave to watch him at work. He had the girl undress and half recline upon a
couch, her arms extended above her head, and, armed with a sharp pair of
scissors he set to cropping the hear beneath her arms. Once he had clipped
away every bit of it, he turned to her mound, and barbered it also, but so
thoroughly that when he was done one would never have believed the least
vestige of hair had ever grown on any of the areas he had worked over. The
job done, he kissed the parts he'd shorn and spurted his fuck upon that
hairless mound, in a perfect ecstasy over the fruit of his labor.
    Another required a doubtless much more bizarre ceremony: I am thinking
now of the Duc de Florville; I was advised to bring him one of the most
beautiful women I could find. A manservant welcomed us at the Duc's
mansion, and we entered by a side door.
    "We will now prepare this attractive creature," the valet said to me;
"for there are several adjustments to be made in order that she be in a
state to amuse my Lord the Duc . . . come with me."
    By way of detours and corridors equally somber and immense, we finally
reached a lugubrious suite of rooms, lighted only by six tapers placed on
the floor around a mattress covered with black satin; the entire room was
hung in funereal stuffs, and the sight, as we entered, woke the worst
apprehensions in us.
    "Calm your fears," said our guide, "you will not suffer the least hurt;
but be ready for anything," he added, speaking to the girl, "and above all
see to it that you do everything I tell you."
    He had her remove all her clothes, loosened her coiffure, and indicated
she was to leave her hair, which was superb, to hang free. Next, he bade
her lie down upon the mattress surrounded by tall candles, enjoined her to
feign death and to be exceedingly careful, throughout the whole of the
scene to follow, neither to stir nor breathe more deeply than she had to.
    "For if unhappily my master, who is going to imagine you are really
dead, perceives you are only pretending, he'll be furious, will leave you
at once, and surely will not pay you a sou."
    Directly he had placed the girl upon the pallet in the attitude of a
corpse, he had her twist her mouth in such a way as to give the impression
of pain, her eyes too were to suggest she had died in agony; he scattered
her tresses over her naked breast, lay a dagger beside her, and near her
heart smeared chicken's blood, painting a wound the size of one's hand.
    "I repeat to you," he said to the girl, "be not afraid, you have
nothing to say, nothing to do, you have simply to remain absolutely still
and to draw your breath at the moments when you see he is farthest from
you. And now, Madame," the valet said to me, "we may withdraw from the
room. Come with me, please; that you not be worried about your girl, I am
going to place you where you will be able to hear and watch the entire
scene."
    We quit the room, leaving the girl, who was not without her misgivings,
but whom the manservant's speeches had reassured somewhat. He conducts me
to a small chamber adjoining the apartment where the mystery is to be
celebrated, and through a crack between two panels, over which the black
material was hung, I could hear everything. To see was still easier, for
the material was only crepe, I could distinguish objects on the other side
quite as clearly as if I had been in the room itself.
    The valet drew the cord that rang a bell, that was the signal, and a
few minutes later we saw a tall, thin, wasted man of about sixty enter upon
the stage. Beneath a loose-flowing dressing robe of India taffeta he was
completely naked. He halted upon coming through the doorway; I had best
tell you now that the Duc, supposing he was absolutely alone, had not the
faintest idea his actions were being observed.
    "Ah, what a beautiful corpse!" he exclaimed at once. "Death . . . 'tis
beautiful to behold. . . . But, my God, what's this!" said he upon catching
sight of the blood, the knife. "It must have been an assassin . . . only a
moment ago . . . ah, Great God, how stiff he must be now, the person who
did that."
    And, frigging himself:
    "How I would have loved to see him strike that blow!"
    And fondling the corpse, moving his hand over its belly:
    "Pregnant? . . . No, apparently not. What a pity."
    And continuing to explore with his hands:
    "Superb flesh! It's still warm . . . a lovely breast."
    Wherewith he bent over her and kissed her mouth with incredible
emotion:
    "Still drooling," he said; "how I adore this saliva!"
    And once again he drove his tongue almost into her gullet; no one could
possibly have played the role more convincingly than did that girl, she lay
stock-still, and whenever the Duc drew near she ceased entirely to breathe.
Finally, he rolled her over upon her stomach:
    "I must have a look at this lovely ass," he murmured.
    And after having scanned it:
    "Jesus Christ! What matchless buttocks!"
    And then he opened them, kissed them, and we distinctly saw him place
his tongue in that cunning little hole.
    "Oh, upon my word!" he cried, sweating with admiration, "this is
certainly one of the most superb corpses I have ever seen in my life; happy
he who took this girl's life, oh, enviable person, what pleasure he must
have known!"
    The very idea made him discharge; he was lying beside her, squeezing
her, his thighs glued against her buttocks, and he discharged upon her
asshole, giving out unbelievable signs of pleasure, and, as he yielded his
sperm, crying like a demon:
    "Ah fuck, fuck, ah good God, if only I had killed her, if only I had
been the one!"
    Thus the operation ended, the libertine rose and disappeared; we
entered the room to resurrect our brave little friend. She was exhausted,
unable to budge: constraint, fright, everything had numbed her senses, she
was about ready in all earnestness to become the character she had just
personified so expertly. We departed with four louis the valet gave us; as
you may well imagine, he doubtless surrendered no more than half of our
pay.
    "Ye living gods!" cried Curval, "now that is a passion! To say the
least, the thing has flavor, aroma."
    "I'm as stiff as a mule," said the Duc; "I'll stake my fortune on it,
that fellow had other tricks up his sleeve."
    "Right you are, my Lord," said Martaine; "he now and again employed a
greater realism. I think Madame Desgranges and I have evidence to prove it
to you."
    "And what the devil are you going to do while waiting?" Curval asked
the Duc.
    "Don't disturb me, don't disturb me," the Duc shouted, "I'm fucking my
daughter, I'm pretending she's dead."
    "Rascal," Curval rejoined, "that makes two crimes in your head."
    "Ah, by fuck," said the Duc, "would that they were more real. . . ."
    And his impure seed burst into Julie's vagina.
    "Well now, Duclos, what comes next? Go on with your stories," said he
as soon as he had finished his affair, "go on, my dear friend, don't allow
the President to discharge, for I can hear him over there effecting an
incestuous connection with his daughter; the funny little fellow is working
up some evil ideas in his head; his parents have made me his tutor, they
expect me to keep an eye on his behavior and I'd be distressed were it to
become perverted."
    "Too late," said Curval, "too late, old man, I'm discharging; ah,
Christ be doublefucked, 'tis a pretty death."
    And while encunting Adelaide, the scoundrel fancied to himself, as had
the Duc, that he was fucking his murdered daughter; O incredible
distraction of the mind of a libertine, who can naught hear, naught see,
but he would imitate it that instant!
    "Duclos, you must indeed continue," said the Bishop, "else I'll be
seduced by those bawdy fellows' example, and in my present state I might
carry things a good deal further than they."
    Some time after that last adventure I went alone to the home of another
libertine, said Duclos, whose mania, more humiliating perhaps, was not
however so saturnine. He receives me in a drawing room whose floor was
covered with a very handsome rug. He bids me remove all I am wearing and
then, having me get down on my hands and knees:
    "Let's see," says he, stroking and patting the heads of two great Danes
lying on either side of his chair, "let's see whether you are as nimble and
quick as my dogs. Ready? Go get it!"
    And with that he tosses some large roasted chestnuts on the floor;
speaking to me as if I were an animal, he says:
    "Go fetch them!"
    I run on all fours after a chestnut, thinking it best to play the game
with good humor and enter into the spirit of his eccentricity; I run along,
I say, I endeavor to bring back the chestnuts, but the two dogs, also
springing forward, outrun me, seize the chestnuts, and take them back to
their master.
    "Well, you're clearly in need of some practice before you'll be in good
form," said the gentleman; "it's not, by chance, that you are afraid my
dogs might bite you? Don't worry yourself about them, my dear, they'll do
you no harm, but inwardly, you know, they'll look down upon you if they see
that you're a clumsy creature. So let's try again - try harder. Here's your
chance to get even . . . bring it back!"
    Another chestnut thrown, another victory carried off by the dogs,
another defeat for me; well, to make a long story short, the game lasted
two hours, during which I managed to get the chestnut only once and to
bring it back in my mouth to him who had thrown it. But whether triumphant
or bested, never did the dogs do me any harm; on the contrary, they seemed
to be having a good time playing and to be amused by me, quite as though I
were a dog too.
    "That's enough," said the gentleman. "You've worked hard enough; it's
time to eat."
    He rang, a servant entered.
    "Bring some food for my animals," he said.
    And a moment later the servant returned, carrying an ebony feeding
trough which was filled with a kind of very delicate chopped meat. He set
the trough on the floor.
    "Very well," my gentlemen said to me, "get down and eat with my dogs,
and try to put on a better show while eating than you did while playing."
    There was nothing for me to reply; I had to obey. Still on all fours, I
plunged my head into the trough; the trough was very clean, the food very
good, I fell to munching away beside the dogs, which very politely moved
over, leaving me peacefully to my share. And that was the critical instant
for our libertine; the humiliation of a woman, the degradation to which he
reduced her, wonderfully stimulated his spirits.
    "Oh, the buggress!" said he, frigging himself assiduously, "the tramp,
look at her there, gorging herself with the dogs, that's how one should
deal with all women, and if they were to be handled thus, we'd have no more
sauciness from them, ah no! Domestic animals like those dogs, why should
they not be treated in the same way? Ah! impudent bitch that you are,
whore, slime, scum!" he cried, stepping near and spraying his fuck over my
bum, "buggress, I'll have you eat with my dogs."
    And that was the end of that; our man vanished, I dressed promptly, and
lying by my mantelet I found two louis, the current price and doubtless the
one the rogue was accustomed to paying for his pleasures.
    At this point, Messieurs, Duclos continued, I am obliged to retrace my
steps and, by way of conclusion to the evening's narrations, to recount two
adventures I had during my youth. As they are somewhat on the strong side,
they would have been out of place amidst the mild escapades with which you
had me start at the beginning of the month; and so I set them aside and
kept them for the end of my contribution.
    I was only sixteen at the time, and was still with Madame Guerin; I had
been sent to the home of a man of unchallenged distinction, and, upon
arriving there, was simply told to wait in a small antechamber, told to be
at my ease, told to be sure to obey the lord who would soon be coming to
sport with me; but they were careful not to tell me anything else: I'd not
have had such a fright if I'd been forewarned, and our libertine would
certainly not have had as much pleasure. I had been in the room for about
an hour when the door opened at last. It was the master of the house
himself.
    "What the devil are you doing here," he demanded with an air of
surprise, "at this time of day? . . . What about it, whore!" he cries,
seizing me by the throat and all but choking the breath out of me, "what
about it! Has the slut come here to rob me?"
    He calls to someone, a trustworthy servant immediately appears.
    "La Fleur," says his angry master, "I've got a thief here; she was
hiding when I came in. Strip her and prepare to carry out the orders I give
you."
    La Fleur does as he is told, I am despoiled of my clothes in a trice,
they are tossed aside as they are peeled off my body.
    "Very well," the libertine says to his servant, "go find a sack, then
sew this creature up inside it and toss her into the river."
    The valet goes to find the sack. I leave it to you to wonder whether I
did not take advantage of these few moments to cast myself at the
nobleman's feet and beg him to spare me, assuring him that it was Madame
Guerin, his usual procuress, who had herself sent me to his house. But the
lewd gentleman will have none of it, he grasps my two buttocks, and
kneading them brutally between his fists:
    "Why, fuck my eyes," says he, "I think I'll feed this pretty ass to the
fish."
    That was the single lubricious action he seemed inclined to permit
himself, and until then he had exposed nothing which might have led me to
suppose libertinage had something to do with the scene. The valet returns,
bringing a sack with him; despite all my protests, and they were heated, I
am dumped into it, the mouth of the sack is sewn up, and La Fleur lifts me
upon his shoulders. It was then I heard the effects of our libertine's
mounting crisis; he had probably begun to frig himself as soon as I had
been put in the sack. At the same instant La Fleur raised me to his
shoulders, the villain's fuck departed him.
    "Into the river, into the river, do you hear me, La Fleur?" he said,
stammering with pleasure. "Yes, into the river with her, and you'll slip a
stone into the sack, so that the whore will drown all the more quickly."
    And that was all he had to say, I was borne out, we went into the
adjacent room where La Fleur, having ripped open the sack, returned me my
clothes, gave me two louis, and also gave me some unequivocal proof of the
manner, radically unlike his master's, in which he conducted himself in the
pursuit of happiness; then I returned to Guerin's. I severely scolded
Guerin for having sent me there so poorly prepared; to placate me, she
arranged another party: it took place two days later, and I was even less
well prepared for the battle I was to wage with this new foe.
    More or less as in the adventure I have just related, I was to go and
wait in an antechamber of the apartment belonging to a farmer-general, but
this time I waited in the company of the valet who, sent thither by his
master, had come to fetch me at Guerin's. To while away the time before my
gentleman's arrival, the valet diverted me by bringing out and displaying
several precious stones kept in a desk drawer in the room.
    "Bless me," said the good pander, "were you to take one or two of them
I don't fancy it would make much difference; the old Croesus is so damned
rich I wager he doesn't even know how many of 'em or what kind he's got
here in his desk. Go right ahead, if you like, don't bother yourself about
me, I'm not the sort of fellow to betray a little friend."
    Alas! I was only too well disposed to follow this perfidious advice;
you know my predilections, I've told you about them; and so, without his
having to say another word, I put my hand upon a little gold box worth
seven or eight louis, not daring to make off with any more valuable object.
That was all that rascal of a valet desired, and to avoid having to return
to the matter later on, I afterward learned that, had I refused to take
something, he would, without my being aware of it, have slipped a jewel or
two into my pocket. The master arrives, greets me with kindness and
courtesy, the valet leaves the room, we two remain there together. This
man, unlike the other, amused himself in a very real sense; he scattered a
profusion of kisses over my ass, had me flog him, fart in his mouth, he put
his prick in mine, and in one word had his fill of every kind and shape of
lubricity save for that sometimes sought in the cunt; but 'twas all to no
purpose, he did not discharge. The propitious moment for that had not yet
come, all this he had been doing was secondary, preparatory; you will soon
see to what it was leading.
    "Why, my stars!" he suddenly exclaimed, "it had entirely slipped my
mind. There's a domestic still waiting in the other room for a gem I just a
moment ago promised to give him for his master. Excuse me, my dear, but I
really must keep my word to him; then we'll get back to work."
    Guilty of the little larceny I'd just committed at the instigation of
that accursed valet, you may well suppose that this remark made me tremble.
I thought for an instant to stop him, confess to the theft, then I decided
it would be better to play innocent and run the risk. He opens the desk,
looks through first one drawer then the next, rummages about, and failing
to find what he is after, he darts furious glances at me.
    "You slut, you alone," says he, "apart from a valet in whom I have
entire confidence, you have been the only person to enter this room during
the past three hours; the article is missing; you must have taken it."
    "Oh, Monsieur," I say, shaking in every limb, "you may be sure I am
incapable . . ."
    "Damn your eyes," he roars (now, you will remark that his breeches were
still unbuttoned, that his prick was protruding from them, that this prick
held a vertical slope; all this, you would suppose, ought to have
enlightened me and dispelled my fears, but I had all but lost my head, and
noticed nothing), "come along, buggress, my valuable has got to be found."
    He ordered me to strip; twenty times I besought him on bended knee to
spare me the humiliation of such a search, he would be moved by nothing,
nothing melted him, he himself angrily tore off my clothes, and as soon as
I was naked, he went through my pockets and, of course, it was not long
before he came across the box.
    "Ah, you bitch!" he cried, "I need no more than that to be convinced.
So, buggress, you come to a man's house to steal from him?"
    And immediately summoning his lieutenant:
    "Go bring an officer of the police at once," he said.
    "Oh, Monsieur!" I cried, "have pity upon my youthful truancy, I have
been beguiled into this, 'twas not done of my own will, I was told to . .
."
    "Well," the lecherous gentleman interrupted, "you will explain all that
to the officer, for I'll be damned if I don't mean to put a stop to all
this crime."
    The valet leaves again; the libertine, still wearing a blinding
erection, flings himself into an armchair and while he fumbles about his
crotch, he showers a thousand invectives upon me.
    "This tramp, this monster," said he, "she comes to my house to rob me,
I who wanted to give her the reward her services deserve . . . ah, by God,
we shall see."
    As he utters these words a knock is heard at the door, and I see a
gendarme enter.
    "Officer," says the master of the premises, "I have a thieving wench
here I wish to put in your safekeeping, and I turn her over to you naked,
for I put her in that state in order to search her clothing; there is the
girl, over there are her garments, and here is the stolen article; I urge
you to have her hanged, officer, and good night to you."
    Whereupon he reeled backward, sat down in his chair, and discharged.
    "Yes, hang the bitch, by sweet Jesus, I want to see her hanged,
officer, do you understand me? Hang her, that's all I ask of you!" he
fairly screamed.
    The pretended gendarme leads me away with my clothes and the damning
box, takes me into a nearby room, removes his uniform, and reveals himself
to be the same valet who received me and incited me to steal; so upset had
I been, I'd not recognized him hitherto.
    "Well, well!" said he, "were you frightened?"
    "Alas," I murmur, hardly able to speak, "out of my very wits."
    "It's all over," he said, "and here is your money."
    So saying, he presents me with the same box I had stolen, 'tis a gift
from his master, he restores my clothes to me, hands me a glass of brandy,
and escorts me back to Madame Guerin's.
    "That's an odd and pleasant mania," the Bishop observed; "the major
part of it can be extracted for use in other connections. My one criticism
is that it contains an excess of delicacy; you know, of course, that I
don't greatly favor mixing fine feelings with libertinage. Leave that
element out of it, I say, and from that story one may learn the infallible
method of preventing a whore from complaining, regardless of the iniquitous
ways one might be disposed to take with her. One has only to proffer the
bait, draw her into the trap, and when you've caught her redhanded, why
then you are at liberty to do what you wish with her, there's nothing more
to fear, she won't dare emit a peep for fear either of being accused or the
object of your recriminations."
    "It is indeed," said Curval, "and I am sure that had I been in that
gentleman's place, I would have permitted myself to go somewhat further,
and you, my dear Duclos, might not have got off so lightly."
    The stories having been long that evening, the supper hour arrived
before Messieurs had the opportunity to indulge in any frolicking. They
thus repaired to table firmly resolved to make the most of the period
following the meal. It was then that, having assembled the entire
household, they decided to determine which of the little girls and boys
could be justifiably ranked as mature men and women. To establish the
critical facts, Messieurs thought best to frig everyone of the one sex and
of the other about whom they had any doubts, or rather suspicions; amongst
the women, they were sure of Augustine, Fanny, and Zelmire: these three
charming little creatures, aged between fourteen and fifteen, all
discharged in response to the lightest touch; Hebe and Michette, each being
only twelve, were hardly worth considering, and so it was simply a question
of experimenting with Sophie, Colombe, and Rosette, the first of whom was
fourteen, the latter two being thirteen years old.
    Amongst the boys, it was a matter of common knowledge that Zephyr,
Adonis, and Celadon shot their fuck like grown men; Giton and Narcisse were
too young to bother putting through their paces; the abilities of Zelamir,
Cupidon, and Hyacinthe remained to be ascertained. The friends formed a
circle about a pile of well-stuffed pillows arranged on the floor,
Champville and Duclos were nominated for the pollutions; one, owing to her
qualities as a tribade, was to act as the young girls' fricatrice, the
other, absolute mistress of the art of frigging the male member, was to
pollute the three little lads. They entered the ring formed by the friends'
chairs and filled with pillows, and there Sophie, Colombe, Rosette,
Zelamir, Cupidon, and Hyacinthe were turned over to Champville and Duclos;
and each friend, the better to appreciate the spectacle, took a child
between his thighs: the Duc appropriated Augustine, Curval had Zelmire to
do his bidding, Durcet entrusted himself to Zephyr's skill, the Bishop
favored Adonis to supply his needs.
    The ceremony began with the boys; Duclos, her breasts and ass
uncovered, her sleeve rolled to the elbow, mobilized all her many talents
and set to polluting each of those delicious Ganymedes one after the other.
The human hand could not possibly have wandered and tugged, squeezed and
patted more voluptuously; her wrist, her fingers flew with a deftness . . .
her movements were of a delicacy and of a willfulness . . . she offered
those little boys her mouth, her breast, her ass, made all of herself
available with such art that there could be no question but that they who
were not finally to discharge had not yet the power to do so. Zelamir and
Cupidon hardened, but all Duclos' lore, all her agility, was quite in vain.
With Hyacinthe, however, the storm burst after the sixth flick of the
wrist: fuck leapt over Duclos' breast, and the child went half out of his
mind while fondling her ass. Messieurs were careful to observe that
throughout the entire operation it had never once occurred to the lad to
touch her in front.
    The girls' turn came next; virtually naked, her hair very elegantly
arranged and equally stylish in every other part of herself, Champville did
not look thirty years old, although she was fifty if a day. The lubricity
of this operation, whence, as a thoroughgoing tribade, she expected to mine
the greatest pleasure, animated her large dark-brown eyes which, since her
youth, had always been extremely handsome. She put at least as much verve,
daring, and brilliance into her actions as Duclos had into hers, she
simultaneously polluted the clitoris, the entrance to the vagina, and the
asshole, but Nature developed nothing worthy of notice in Colombe and
Rosette; there was not even the faintest appearance of pleasure in their
expressions. But things were not thus with the beautiful Sophie: the tenth
digital foray brought her fainting upon Champville's breast; little broken
sighs, little panting sounds, the tender shade of crimson which sprang into
her lovely cheeks, her parted lips which grew moist, everything manifested
the delirium whereinto Nature had hurled her, and she was declared a woman.
The Duc, his device as solid as a mace, ordered Champville to frig her a
second time, and when she discharged afresh, the villain chose that moment
to mix his impure fuck with that young virgin's. As for Curval, he had
wrought his fell deed between Zelmire's thighs, and the two others theirs
with the young boys they held locked between their legs.
    The company retired for the night, and the following morning having
furnished no event which deserves to be cited in this catalogue of
exceptional feats, and dinner having furnished nothing, nor coffee, we
shall remove at once to the auditorium, where the magnificently arrayed
Duclos appears once again upon the platform, this time to end, with five
new stories, the one hundred and fifty narrations which have been entrusted
to her for the thirty days of the month of November.




THE THIRTIETH DAY
    I am not sure, Messieurs, said the beauteous storyteller, whether you
have heard of the caprice, quite as unusual as dangerous, for which the
Comte de Lernos is celebrated, but my several liaisons with him having
afforded me a thorough acquaintance of his maneuvers, and as I found them
most extraordinary indeed, I believe they ought to be included amongst the
delights you have ordered me to detail. The Comte de Lernos' passion to
lead into evil as many girls and married women as he is able, and apart
from the books he employs to seduce them, there is truly no sort of device
he will not invent to deliver them up to men; he either exploits their
secret yearnings by uniting them with the object upon whom they only think
longingly, or he finds them lovers if such they are lacking. He has a house
devoted to nothing else, and in it all the matches he has made are tested
when the individuals concerned come to grips. He unites them, guarantees
them freedom from intrusion, provides them with all the facilities needed
for recreation, and then goes into an adjoining chamber to enjoy the
pleasure of spying upon them while they are in action. But the point to
which he multiplies these disorders simply defies belief, nor would one
credit an account of the immense number of obstacles he is willing to
surmount in order to form these little marriages. He has associates in
nearly every convent in Paris and amongst a vast quantity of married women,
and this army is led by a general of such great skill that not a day passes
but at least three or four little skirmishes are fought in his house. Never
does he fail to watch the voluptuous jousts - without the participants
suspecting his presence - but once he has gone to take up his observation
post at the hole, as he stands watch all alone, no one knows how he
proceeds to his discharge, nor what its character is; nothing but the fact
is known, and that is all; I thought none the less that it was worthy of
being mentioned to you.
    The fantasy of the elderly President Desportes will perhaps prove more
amusing to you. Fully informed of the etiquette observed at the home of
this habitual debauchee, I arrive at his house toward ten o'clock in the
morning and, perfectly naked, I present my buttocks to be kissed; he is
seated in an armchair, very grave, very solemn, and the first thing I do is
fart in his face. My president is irritated, he gets to his feet, seizes a
bundle of switches he has close at hand, and falls to pursuing me; my first
impulse is to get out of his way.
    "Impudent hussy," says he, chasing after me all the while, "I'll teach
you to come to my home to behave in this outrageous fashion."
    I'm to flee, he's to follow on my heels; I finally gain a narrow alley,
I take cover in an impregnable retreat, but, lo! there he is, he's somehow
managed to get at me. The president's threats and imprecations redouble as
he sees he has me trapped; he brandishes the switches, threatens to use
them upon me: I creep into a corner, cower there, put on a terrified air, I
shrink to the size of a mouse; this terrified, groveling attitude of mine
finally awakes his fuck, and the roue squirts it over my breasts while
shouting with pleasure.
    "What! Do you mean to say he didn't give you a single lick with the
switches?" the Duc demanded.
    "He didn't bring them within a yard of me," Duclos replied.
    "A very patient individual, that one," Curval remarked; "my friends, I
believe we all agree that we are somewhat less so when we have in our hands
the instrument Duclos mentions."
    "But you need only a small amount of patience, Messieurs," said
Champville, "for I shall shortly present to you other samples of the same
breed, but they'll be rather less mild tempered than Madame Duclos'
president."
    And Duclos, observing that silence had succeeded these comments, saw
she could continue with her stories, and proceeded in the following manner:
    Soon after this adventure had befallen me, I went to the town house of
the Marquis de Saint-Giraud, whose fantasy consisted in seating a naked
woman upon a children's swing and having her swing to a great height, back
and forth. Each time you pass by his nose, he's waiting for you, and you've
got either to let fly a fart at him or expect a slap upon your ass. I did
my best to satisfy him; I received several slaps, but also gave him some
overpowering farts. And the Marquis having finally discharged after an hour
of this monotonous and fatiguing ceremony, the swing was brought to a halt,
and my audience came to an end.
    About three years after I had become the mistress of Fournier's
establishment, a man came to make an unusual proposal to me: he wished me
to find libertines who would amuse themselves with his wife and daughter,
the only condition being that he be hidden in a place whence he could
observe everything that transpired. Not only would whatever money I might
earn from their employment be mine, but, he went on, he planned to give me
an additional two louis for every encounter I could arrange for them; and
there was only one final condition to the bargain: for his wife's partners
he wished none but men of a certain taste, and for his daughter, men
addicted to another kind of whimsy: his wife's men were all to shit upon
her breasts, and the procedure to be observed with his daughter involved
having the men raise her skirts, broadly expose her behind in front of the
hole through which he would be doing his spying, and then discharge into
her mouth. He would surrender the merchandise for the said passions, but
for no others. After having made this gentleman promise to accept all
responsibility in the event his wife and daughter brought complaint for
having been made to come to my house, I agreed to all he wanted and in my
turn promised that the two ladies would be furnished in strict accordance
with his instructions. He arrived with his wares the very next day: madame
was a woman of thirty-six, not very pretty, but tall and majestically
formed, with a great air of sweet mildness and of modesty; her daughter was
fifteen years old, blond, rather inclining toward heaviness, with the most
tender, most winning countenance in all the world. . . .
    "Indeed, Monsieur," quoth his wife, "you have us do strange things. . .
."
    "I know, my dear, I know," said the lecher, "and it mortifies me, but
so it must be. Accept your lot, do as you're told, there's nothing for it,
I shall not give over. And if you balk in the slightest way at the
propositions and the actions we are going to submit you to - you, Madame,
and you, Mademoiselle - I shall tomorrow convey you to a place I know, and
it is highly unlikely you'll ever return alive from it."
    Wherewith the wife she a tear or two; as the man for whom I intended
her was waiting, I requested her to pass without further delay into the
chamber I had set aside for their bout; mademoiselle would remain in
another room with one of my girls, she would be perfectly safe there and
would be notified when her turn had come. At this cruel moment there were a
few more tears, and it seemed clear to me that this was the first time the
brutal husband had required such a thing of his wife; unhappily, her debut
was arduous, for aside from the baroque taste of the individual to whom I
was surrendering her, he was an imperious and brusque old libertine who
would surely not treat her with any excess of courtesy or consideration.
    "That will do, no more tears," said the husband. "Bear in mind that I
am watching your conduct, and that if you do not give ample satisfaction to
the thoughtful gentleman who is going to take you in hand, I will come in
myself and force you to do his bidding."
    She enters the arena, the husband and I go into the neighboring room
from which we are to watch it all. It is difficult to imagine the point to
which this old scoundrel's imagination was excited by contemplating his
miserable wife being made a victim of some stranger's brutality; he was
thrilled by each thing she was forced to do; that poor humiliated woman's
modesty and candor beneath the atrocious assaults of the libertine engaged
to exercise her, composed a delicious spectacle for her husband. But when
he saw her thrown brutally to the floor, and when the old ape to whom I had
delivered her shit upon her chest, and her husband saw the tears, beheld
the horrified shudders of his wife as she first heard proposed and then saw
this infamy executed, he could restrain himself no longer, and the hand
with which I was frigging him was straightway soaked with fuck. This first
scene ended at last, and if it had afforded him pleasure, it was as nothing
compared to the climax produced by the second. It was only with great
difficulty, and above all with numerous and grave threats, that we
succeeded in getting the young lady to enter the ring; she had witnessed
her mother's tears but knew nothing of what had been done to her. The poor
little girl raised all kinds of objections; we finally helped her make up
her mind. The man to whom I turned her over was fully instructed of all
that was required to be done: he was one of my regular clients whom I
delighted with this windfall and who, to express his gratitude, consented
to all I prescribed.
    "Oh, the lovely ass!" cried the libertine father once his daughter's
stud displayed her entirely naked. "Oh, sacred Jesus, what adorable
buttocks!"
    "Gracious!" I exclaimed, "am I to take it that this is the first time
you have set eyes on them?"
    "Yes, indeed it is," said he, "I required this expedient to enjoy the
spectacle; but if 'tis the first time I see that superb ass, you may rest
assured it shall not be the last."
    I frigged him at a lively pace, he grew ecstatic; but when he saw the
appalling things that young virgin was being forced to submit to, when he
saw a consummate libertine's hands straying over that extraordinary body
which had never before suffered such fondlings, when he saw her compelled
to sink to her knees, open her mouth, when he saw a fat prick introduced
into it, and saw that engine discharge inside, he tottered backward and,
swearing like one possessed, shouting that he'd never in his life tasted
any pleasure as keen as this, he left certain proof of his statements
between my fingers. Their adventure had drawn to a conclusion, the two poor
women retreated, weeping abundant tears, and the husband, but too
enthusiastic over the drama they had enacted for him, doubtless found the
means to persuade them to provide him with additional performances, for I
received that family at my house for more than six years and, always
following the orders the husband gave me, I made those two unlucky
creatures acquainted with practically all the different passions I have
mentioned in the course of my thirty days of storytelling; there were, to
be sure, ten or twelve of the passions they had no opportunity to satisfy,
because we did not practice them in my house.
    "Oh, yes," said Curval, "there are many ways to prostitute a wife and a
daughter. As if these bitches were made for anything else! Are they not
born for our pleasures, and from that moment onward, must they not satisfy
them at no matter what price? I've had a quantity of wives," said the
President, "and three or four daughters of whom, thank God, I've only one
left, and if I'm not mistaken Monsieur le Duc is fucking Mademoiselle
Adelaide at this very instant; but had any one of those creatures ever
balked at being prostituted, in any of the numerous manners of prostitution
I regularly submitted them to, may I be damned alive or condemned never to
fuck anything but cunts for the rest of my life - which is worse - if I'd
not have blown their bloody brains out."
    "President, your prick is in the air again," said the Duc; "your
fucking remarks always betray you."
    "My prick in the air? No," the President said, "but I am on the verge
of getting some shit from our dear little Sophie, and I have high hopes her
delicious turd will precipitate something. Oh, upon my soul, even more than
I'd suspected," said Curval, after he'd gobbled up the hash; "by the good
God I'd like to fuck, I believe that my prick is taking on some
consistency. Who from amongst you, Messieurs, would like to accompany me
into the boudoir?"
    "I'd be honored," said Durcet, dragging along Aline, whom he had been
pawing steadily for an hour.
    And our two libertines, having summoned Augustine, Fanny, Colombe,
Hebe, Zelamir, Adonis, Hyacinthe, and Cupidon, and enlisted Julie and two
duennas, Martaine and Champville, Antinoüs and Hercule, absented themselves
for half an hour, at the end of which they returned triumphant, each having
yielded up their vital liquor to the sweetest excesses of crapulence and
debauchery.
    "Move on," Curval said to Duclos, "give us your final tale, dear
friend. And if it manages to make this prick of mine dance up again, you
shall be able to congratulate yourself upon having wrought a miracle, for
in faith, it is at least a year since I've lost so much fuck at a single
sitting. On the other hand, it is true that . . ."
    "Very well," the Bishop interrupted, "that will do; if we listen to
you, we will hear something much worse than the passion Duclos is likely to
describe to us. And so, since that would be to retreat from the stronger to
the weaker, permit us to bid you be silent and listen instead to our
storyteller."
    That gifted whore thereupon terminated her recitations with the
following passion:
    The time has finally arrived, my Lords, to relate the passion of the
Marquis de Mesanges to whom, you will recall, I sold the daughter of the
unfortunate shoemaker, Petignon, who perished in jail with his wife while I
enjoyed the inheritance his mother had left for him. As 'twas Lucile who
satisfied him, you will allow me to place the story in her mouth.
    "I arrive at the Marquis' mansion," that charming girl told me, "at
about ten o'clock in the morning. As soon as I enter, all the doors are
shut.
    "'What are you doing here, little bitch?' says the Marquis, all afire.
'Who gave you permission to disturb me?'
    "And since you gave me no prior warning of what was to happen, you may
readily imagine how terrified I was by this reception.
    "'Well, take off your clothes, be quick about it,' the Marquis
continues. 'Since I've got my hands on you, whore, you'll not get out of
here with your skin intact . . . indeed, you're going to perish - your last
minutes have arrived.'
    "I burst into tears, I fall down at the Marquis' feet, but nothing
would bend him. And as I was not quick enough in undressing, he himself
tore my clothes off, ripping them away by sheer force. But what truly
petrified me was to see him thrown them one after another into the fire.
    "'You'll have no further use for these,' he muttered, casting each
article into a large grate. 'No further need for this mantelet, this dress,
these stockings, this bodice, no,' said he when all had been consumed, 'all
you'll need now is a coffin.'
    "And there I was, naked; the Marquis, who had never before seen me,
contemplated my ass for a brief space, he uttered oaths as he fondled it,
but he did not bring his lips near it.
    "'Very well, whore' said he, 'enough of this, you're going to follow
your clothes, I'm going to bind you to those andirons; yes, by fuck, yes
indeed, by sweet Jesus, I'm going to burn you alive, you bitch, I'm going
to have the pleasure of inhaling the aroma of your burning flesh.'
    "And so saying he falls half-unconscious into an armchair and
discharges, darting his fuck upon the remnants of my burning clothes. He
rings, a valet enters and then leads me out, and in another room I find a
complete new outfit, clothes twice as fine as those he has incinerated."
    That is the account of it I had from Lucile; it remains now to discover
whether 'twas for that or for worse he employed the girl I sold him.
    "For something far worse," said Desgranges; "I am glad you have
introduced the Marquis to their Lordships, for I believe I too shall have
something to say about him."
    "May it be, Madame," Duclos said to Desgranges, "and you, my amiable
companions," she added, speaking to her two other colleagues, "may it be
that you speak with greater energy than have I, with livelier images,
brighter diction, superior wit, and more persuasive eloquence. 'Tis now
your turn, I have done, and I would but beseech Messieurs to have the
kindness to forgive me if I have perchance bored them in any wise, for
there is an almost unavoidable monotony in the recital of such anecdotes;
all compounded, fitted into the same framework, they lose the luster that
is theirs as independent happenings."
    With these words, the superb Duclos respectfully saluted the company,
bowed, and descended from her throne; she next went from alcove to alcove
and was generally applauded and caressed by all the friends. Supper was
served, Duclos was invited to sit at the table, a favor which had never
before been accorded to a woman. Her conversation was quite as agreeable as
her storytelling had been, and by way of recompense for the pleasure she
had given them, Messieurs named her to be the governor-general of the two
harems, and the four friends also made the promise, in an aside, that no
matter what the extreme treatment to which they might expose the women in
the course of the sojourn, she would always be dealt with gently, and very
certainly taken back with them to Paris, where the society would amply
reward her for the trouble she had gone to in order to help Messieurs
procure themselves a little good cheer. She, Curval, and the Duc so
completely besotted themselves at supper that they were practically
incapacitated and barely managed, with the expense of much effort, to reach
the orgies, which they soon left, allowing Durcet and the Bishop to carry
on alone, and betook themselves to the remote boudoir; Champville,
Antinoüs, Bum-Cleaver, Therèse, and Louison accompanied them, and one may
be perfectly confident that they uttered and had done to them at least as
many horrors and infamies as, at their end, their two more sober friends
were able to invent.
    Everyone repaired to his bed at two in the morning, and 'twas thus the
month of November ended, thus came to a close the first phase of this
lubricious and interesting holiday, for whose second part we will not keep
the public waiting if to our consideration it has kindly received what we
have chronicled so far.
PART THE SECOND
THE 150 COMPLEX PASSIONS, OR THOSE BELONGING TO THE SECOND CLASS, COMPOSING
THE THIRTY-ONE DAYS OF DECEMBER SPENT IN HEARING THE NARRATIONS OF MADAME
CHAMPVILLE; INTERSPERSED AMONGST WHICH ARE THE SCANDALOUS DOINGS AT THE
CHÂTEAU DURING THAT MONTH; ALL BEING SET DOWN IN THE FORM OF A JOURNAL.
(DRAFT)

    THE 1ST OF DECEMBER: Champville assumes the task of storytelling and
relates the one hundred and fifty following tales (the number of each
precedes the tale).
    1. Won't depucelate any save those aged between three and seven, but
only cuntishly. 'Tis he who deflowers Champville at the age of five.
    2. He ties a girl of nine in a curled-up position and depucelates her
from behind.
    3. He wishes to rape a girl of twelve or thirteen, and depucelates her
while holding a pistol against her heart.
    4. He likes to frig a man upon a maiden's cunt, he uses the fuck for
pomade, and next encunts the maid while she is held by the man.
    5. He wishes to depucelate three girls in succession, one in the
cradle, one at the age of five, the other at seven.
    THE 2ND. 6. He'll not depucelate anyone who is not between nine years
old and thirteen. His prick is enormous; four women are needed to hold the
virgin. The same individual Martaine speaks of, who only embuggers three-
year-olds, the same hell-inspired individual.
    7. He has his valet depucelate the maid, aged ten to twelve, before his
eyes, and during the operation touches them nowhere save upon the ass. He
now fondles the girl's, now the valet's. Discharges upon the valet's ass.
    8. He wishes to depucelate a girl destined to be married the following
day.
    9. He wishes the marriage to be performed, and to depucelate the bride
at some time between the hour of the mass and the moment the couple retires
to bed.
    10. He would have his valet, a very ingenious personage, go about
marrying girls left and right and bring them to his master, who therewith
fucks them, and next sells them to procuresses.
    THE 3RD. 11. He must be provided with two sisters; he depucelates them.
    12. He marries the girl, depucelates her, but 'tis all a fraud, the
marriage is a fraud, once he's fucked her, he leaves her.
    13. He will only fuck a maid, and then only immediately after another
man has deflowered her while he has watched. He must have her cunt muddied
up with sperm.
    14. This one depucelates with an artificial engine, very large, and,
without introducing himself, discharges upon the hole he has cleared.
    15. He will have none but maids of rank and distinction and pays for
them in accordance with their wealth. This individual proves to be the Duc,
who will admit having depucelated more than fifteen hundred of them over a
period of thirty years.
    THE 4TH. 16. He forces a brother to fuck his sister in his presence,
then fucks her afterward; he obliges both to shit before-hand.
    17. He forces a father to fuck his daughter after he has himself had
her maidenhead.
    18. He brings his nine-year-old daughter to the brothel, and while she
is held by a procuress, depucelates her. He has had twelve daughters; has
had all twelve maidenheads.
    19. Must have virgins between the ages of thirty and forty to fuck.
    20. He will depucelate no one but nuns, and spends immense sums of
money to get them; he fucks several.
    'Tis the evening of the 4th of December, at the orgies, the Duc
depucelates Fanny, who is held by the four governesses and ministered by
Duclos. He fucks her twice in a row, she faints, the second time he fucks
her while she is unconscious.
    THE 5TH. To celebrate the fifth week's festival, Hyacinthe and Fanny
are joined in matrimony, the marriage is consummated very publicly.
    21. He would have the mother hold her daughter, he first fucks the
mother, then depucelates the daughter while she is held by the mother. The
same one Desgranges mentions on the 20th of February.
    22. He likes adultery only; one must locate women for him who are
generally known to be virtuous and well behaved, he makes them disgusted
with their husbands.
    23. He enjoys having the husband come himself to prostitute his wife
and hold her while he fucks her. (Messieurs imitate that passion
forthwith.)
    24. He places a married woman upon a bed, encunts her while that
woman's daughter, suspended above, presents him with her cunt to be licked;
the next instant he effects a reversal and encunts the daughter while
kissing the mother's asshole. When he has done licking the daughter's cunt,
he has her piss; then he kisses the mother's asshole and has her shit.
    25. He has four daughters, legitimate and wedded; he wishes to fuck all
four: he makes all four of them conceive and bear children so as someday to
have the pleasure of depucelating the children he has had by his daughters
and whom their husbands suppose to be their own.
    Apropos of which the Duc recounts - but his anecdote cannot be numbered
amongst the stories because, Messieurs being unable to duplicate it, it
does not compose a passion - the Duc recounts, I say, that he once knew a
man who fucked three children he had by his mother, amongst whom there was
a daughter whom he had marry his son, so that in fucking her he fucked his
sister, his daughter and his daughter-in-law, and thus he also constrained
his son to fuck his own sister and mother-in-law. Curval recounts another
unusual history, that of a brother and a sister who reached an agreement
whereby each would surrender his children to the other: the sister had a
boy and a girl, so did the brother. They mixed the pudding in such wise
that sometimes they fucked their nephews, sometimes their own children, and
sometimes their first cousins, or else the brothers and sister would fuck
while the father and mother, that is to say, the brother and sister, fucked
one another also.
    That evening, Fanny is surrendered cuntwardly to the assembly, but as
the Bishop and Monsieur Durcet do not fuck cunts, she is only fucked by
Curval and the Duc. Henceforth, she wears a small ribbon aslant, like a
baldric, and after the loss of both her pucelages she will wear a very wide
pink ribbon.
    THE 6TH. 26. He has himself frigged while a woman is being frigged
about the clitoris, and he wishes to discharge at the same time the girl
does, but he discharges upon the buttocks of the man who frigs the girl.
    27. He kisses the asshole of one girl while a second girl frigs his ass
and a third his prick; they then exchange tasks, so that, when all is said
and done, each of the three has her ass kissed, each frigs his prick, each
frigs his ass. Farts are required of them all.
    28. He licks the cunt of one girl while fucking a second in the mouth
and while his asshole is being licked by a third; then exchange of
positions as above. The cunts must discharge, he swallows their balm.
    29. He sucks a beshitted ass, has a tongue frig his own beshitted
asshole, and frigs himself upon a beshitted ass; the three girls then
exchange positions.
    30. He has two girls frigged before his eyes, and alternately fucks the
friggeresses from the rear, but in the cunt, while they continue with their
sapphotizings.
    Zephyr and Cupidon are upon that day discovered in the act of frigging
each other, but they have not yet had recourse to reciprocal embuggery;
they are punished. Fanny is much encunted at the orgies.
    THE 7TH. 31. He would have an older girl introduce a younger girl to
bad habits; the older must frig her, give her wicked advice, and end up by
holding her while he fucks her, whether virgin or not.
    32. He calls for four women; he fucks two of them orally, two
cuntwardly, taking great care not to insert his prick in a mouth until
having first had it in a cunt. While all this is going on, he is closely
followed by a fifth woman, who throughout frigs his asshole with a dildo.
    33. This libertine requires a dozen women, six young, six old and, if
'tis possible, six of them should be mothers and the other six their
daughters. He pumps out their cunts, asses and mouths; when applying his
lips to the cunt, he wants copious urine; when at the mouth, much saliva;
when at the ass, abundant farts.
    34. He employs eight women to frig him; each of the eight must be
situated in a different posture. (This had better be illustrated by a
drawing.)
    35. Wishes to have three men and three women fucking each other in
divers attitudes.
    THE 8TH. 36. He forms twelve groups of two girls each; they are so
arranged only their asses are visible to him; all the rest of their bodies
must be concealed from his sight. He frigs himself while studying all those
buttocks.
    37. He has six couples simultaneously frig themselves in a room paneled
with mirrors; each couple is composed of two girls frigging each other in
various and equally lubricious postures. He is in the middle of the room,
he regards both the couples and their reflections, and discharges in the
middle of it all, having been frigged by an old woman. He has kissed the
buttocks of every participant in this drama.
    38. He has four streetwalkers besot themselves with wine and then fight
with each other while he looks on; and when they are thoroughly drunk, they
one after another vomit into his mouth. He favors the oldest and ugliest
women possible.
    39. He has a girl shit in his mouth, but does not eat her turd, and
while the first girl is in action, a second sucks his prick and frigs his
ass; while discharging, he shits into the hand of the girl who is
socratizing him. The girls exchange places.
    40. He has a man shit into his mouth and eats while a little boy frigs
him, then the man frigs him and he has the boy shit.
    That evening, at the orgies, Curval depucelates Michette, in front: she
is held by the four duennas and ministered by Duclos; this arrangement is
the conventional one and is observed upon all occasions; therefore we will
not allude to it again.
    THE 9TH. 41. He fucks one girl in her mouth just after having shitted
into the same receptacle; a second girl is lying on top of the first, with
the first girl's head between her thighs, and upon the face of the second
girl a third girl drops a turd, and he, while thus fucking his own turd in
the first girl's mouth, eats the shit deposited by the third girl upon the
second girl's face, and then they alternate roles, in such wise that each
girl enacts all three of them.
    42. Thirty girls pass through his hands during a given day, and he has
them all shit into his mouth, consumes the turds of the three or four
prettiest. He repeats this party five times a week, which means that he
sees 7800 girls a year. When Champville first encounters him, he is seventy
years old and has been in business for fifty.
    43. He sees twelve girls every morning and swallows their dozen turds;
he sees them all at the same time.
    44. He places himself in a bathtub; thirty women come up one after
another and piss and shit into it till it is full; he discharges while
paddling about in all that.
    45. He shits in the presence of four women, requires them to watch and
indeed help deliver him of his turd; next, he wishes them to divide it into
equal parts and eat it; then each woman does a turd of her own. He mixes
them and swallows the entire batter, but his shit-furnishers have got to be
women of at least sixty.
    That evening Michette's cunt is put at the disposal of the assembly;
thereafter she wears the little sash.
    THE 10TH. 46. He has girls A and B shit. Then he forces B to eat A's
turd, and A to eat B's. Then both A and B shit a second time; he eats both
their turds.
    47. He requires a mother and her three daughters, and he eats the
girls' shit upon the mother's ass, and the mother's shit upon one
daughter's ass.
    48. He obliges a daughter to shit into her mother's mouth and to wipe
her ass with her mother's teats; next, he eats the turd in the mother's
mouth, and afterward has the mother shit into her daughter's mouth, whence,
as before, he eats the turd.
    (It would perhaps be advisable to substitute a son and a mother, in order to create a
contrast with 47.)
    49. He wishes a father to eat his son's turd, then he eats the
father's.
    50. He would have the brother shit in his sister's cunt, and he eats
the turd; the sister then must shit in her brother's mouth. He eats this
second turd, too.
    THE 11TH. 51. Champville announces she is now going to speak of
impieties, and makes mention of a man who wishes the whore, while frigging
him, to pronounce dreadful blasphemies; in his turn he utters terrible
ones. His amusement during their dialogue consists in kissing her ass; he
does no more than that.
    52. He would have a girl come with him to a church, and frig him there,
especially at the time the holy sacrament is exposed. He situates himself
as near to the altar as possible, and fondles her ass while she performs
her task.
    53. He goes to confession for the sole purpose of making his
confessor's prick rise aloft; he lists a quantity of infamous misdeeds, and
frigs himself in the confessional all the while he speaks.
    54. He wishes the girl to go and make her confession, then fucks her
orally the moment she emerges from the confessional.
    55. He fucks a whore throughout a mass being said in his private
chapel, and discharges when the Host is raised.
    That evening, the Duc depucelates Sophie cuntwardly, and while doing so
blasphemes considerably.
    THE 12TH. 56. He buys a confessor, who yields him his place; thus he is
able to hear the young pensionnaires' confessions and to give them the
worst possible advice while pardoning them their sins.
    57. He would have his daughter go to confess to a monk he has
previously bribed, and he is placed where he can overhear everything; but
the monk demands that the penitent keep her skirts raised high while she
catalogues her faults, and her ass posted within plain sight of the father:
thus he is able to hear his daughter's confession and contemplate her ass
at the same time.
    58. Has mass celebrated for completely naked whores; while observing
the spectacle, he frigs his prick upon another girl's ass.
    59. He has his wife go to confess to a monk he has bought: the monk
seduces the wife and fucks her in front of her husband, who is hidden. If
the wife refuses, he emerges from hiding and helps the monk force her.
    On that day they celebrate the sixth week's festival with the marriage
of Celadon and Sophie, which union is consummated, and in the evening
Sophie's cunt is put generally to use, and she dons the sash. Because of
this event only four passions are recounted on the 12th.
    THE 13TH. 60. Fucks whores on the altar at the same moment mass is
about to be said; they have their naked asses on the sacred stone.
    61. He has a naked girl sit astride and bend forward over a large
crucifix; he fucks her cunt from behind while she is thus crouched down in
such wise the head of Christ frigs her clitoris.
    62. He farts and has the whore fart in the chalice, he pisses thereinto
and has her piss thereinto, he shits thereinto and has her shit thereinto,
and finally he discharges into the chalice.
    63. He has a small boy shit upon the paten, and he eats this while the
boy sucks him.
    64. He has two girls shit upon a crucifix, he shits thereupon when they
have finished, and he is frigged against the three turds covering the
idol's face.
    THE 14TH. 65. He breaks up a crucifix, smashes several images of the
Virgin and the Eternal Father, shits upon the debris and burns the whole
mess. The same man has the mania of bringing a whore to hear the sermon and
having himself frigged while listening to the word of God.
    66. He takes communion and, the wafer still in his mouth, has four
whores shit upon it.
    67. He has her go to communion and fucks her in the mouth when she
returns.
    68. He interrupts a priest in the midst of saying mass in his private
chapel, interrupts him, I say, in order to frig himself into the chalice,
obliges the whore to frig the priest thereinto, and forces the latter to
quaff the mead.
    *Passion Number 69 omitted by Sade. -Tr.
    70. He intervenes directly the Host is consecrated and forces the
priest to fuck the whore with the Host.
    Upon this day Augustine and Zelmire are found frigging together; they
are both rigorously punished.
    THE 15TH. 71. He has the girl fart upon the Host, himself farts
thereupon, and then swallows the Host while fucking the whore.
    72. The same man who had himself nailed into a coffin - Duclos
mentioned him - compels the whore to shit upon the Host; he also shits upon
it and flings the whole affair into a privy.
    73. Frigs the whore's clitoris with the Host, has her discharge upon
it, then buries it in her cunt and fucks her, discharging upon it in his
turn.
    74. Chops it up with a knife and has the crumbs rammed into his
asshole.
    75. Has himself frigged and then discharges upon the Host and finally,
when he is restored to perfect calm and after his fuck has flowed, feeds
biscuit and all to a dog.
    The same evening, the Bishop consecrates a Host and Curval destroys
Hebe's maidenhead with it, he drives it into her cunt and discharges
thereupon. Several others are consecrated, and the already depucelated
sultanas are all fucked with Hosts.
    THE 16TH. Profanation, Champville announces, lately the principal
element in her stories, will from now on be no more accessory, and what, to
borrow the brothel term, are known as little ceremonies are going to
provide the main ingredient in the following complex passions. She asks her
auditors to remember that everything connected with that will be presented
merely as secondary matter, but that the difference subsisting between her
stories and the examples Duclos has given, is that Duclos always pictured a
man with one woman, whereas she, Champville, will always show several women
administering to a single man.
    76. He has himself flogged by one girl during mass, he fucks a second
girl orally, and he discharges when the Host is elevated.
    77. He has two women gently flog his ass with a martinet; each woman
bestows ten stripes, alternating them with asshole friggery.
    78. He has himself whipped by four different girls while farts are
being launched into his mouth: the girls take turns, so that each will have
had a chance both to whip and to fart.
    79. He has himself whipped by his wife while he fucks his daughter,
next by his daughter while he fucks his wife; this is the same individual
Duclos spoke of, the same man who prostituted his wife and daughter in her
whorehouse.
    80. He has himself whipped simultaneously by two girls, one flogs the
front of him, the other his rear, and when at last he has been well
stimulated, he fucks one of them while the other plies the lash, then the
second while the first flogs him.
    That same evening Hebe's cunt is made available to the public, and she
wears the little sash, not being entitled to the large one until she has
lost both her pucelages.
    THE 17TH. 81. He has himself flogged while kissing a boy's ass and
while fucking a girl in the mouth, then he fucks the boy in the mouth while
kissing the girl's asshole, the while constantly receiving the lash from
another girl, then he has the boy flog him, orally fucks the whore who'd
been whipping him, and then has himself flogged by the girl whose ass he
had been kissing.
    82. He has himself whipped by an old woman, fucks an old man in the
mouth, and has the daughter of this aged couple shit into his own mouth,
then changes so that, ultimately, everyone takes his turn in each role.
    83. He has himself whipped while frigging himself and while discharging
upon a crucifix propped up by a girl's buttocks.
    84. He has himself whipped while fucking a whore from the rear, using
his prick to tamp a Host into her fundament.
    85. He passes an entire brothel in review; he receives the lash from
all the whores while kissing the madame's asshole and receiving therefrom
into his mouth both wind and rain and hailstones.
    THE 18TH. 86. He has himself whipped by teams of cab drivers and
chimney sweeps who pass two at a time, one plying the lash, the other
farting in his mouth; he employs ten or twelve in a morning.
    87. He has himself held by three girls, he gets down on hands and
knees, a fourth girl mounts astride him and thrashes him; each member of
the quartet takes her turn mounting and flogging him.
    88. Naked, he puts himself in the midst of six girls; he is conscience-
stricken, asks to be forgiven, casts himself down upon his knees. Each girl
decrees a penance, and he is given one hundred strokes for each penance he
refuses to do: 'tis the girl he refuses who whips him. Well, these penances
are all exceedingly unpleasant: one would like to shit into his mouth;
another have him lick up her spittle from the floor; a third is
menstruating and would have him lick her cunt clean; the fourth hasn't
washed her feet, will he kindly lick between her toes; the fifth has snot
awaiting his tongue, etc.
    89. Fifteen girls arrive in teams of three: one whips him, one sucks
him, the other shits; the she who shitted, whips; she who sucked, shits;
she who whipped, sucks. And so he proceeds till he has had done with all
fifteen; he sees nothing, heeds nothing, is wild with joy: a procuress is
in charge of the game. He renews this party six times each week.
    (This one is truly charming and has my infinite recommendation; the
thing has got to move very briskly along, each girl must bestow twenty-give
strokes of the whip, and it is between whippings that the first sucks and
the third shits. If you would prefer fifty strokes from each girl, that
will total up to seven hundred fifty, a very agreeable figure, not by any
means excessive.)
    90. Twenty-five whores soften up his ass with a quantity of slaps and
fondlings; he is not sent away until his ass has become completely
insensible.
    That evening the Duc is flogged while culling Zelmire's forward
maidenhead.
    THE 19TH. 91. He has himself tried by a jury of six whores; each knows
the role she is to play. He is sentenced to be hanged. And hanged he is;
but the cord snaps: 'tis the instant he discharges. (Relate this to similar
ones Duclos described.)
    92. He arranges six old women in a semicircle; while three young whores
lash him, the six crones spit in his face.
    93. A girl frigs his asshole with the handle of a cat-o'-nine-tails, a
second girl whips his thighs and prick from the front; 'tis thus he is made
eventually to discharge over the tits of the whipper posted before him.
    94. Two women flay him with bulls' pizzles while a third, kneeling
before him, causes him to discharge upon her breasts.
    She recounts only four that day because of the marriage of Zelmire and
Adonis which marks the seventh week's conclusion, and which is consummated,
Zelmire having been depucelated, with what regards the cunt, the night
before.
    THE 20TH. 95. He struggles with six women, the cuts of whose whips he
pretends to wish to avoid; he strives to snatch the whips from their hands,
but they are too strong for him and fustigate him none the less. He is
naked.
    96. He runs the gauntlet between two ranks of twelve girls who are
wielding switches; he is whipped all about the body and discharges after
the ninth race.
    97. He has the soles of his feet whipped, then his prick, then his
thighs while, as he lies upon a couch, three women successively mount
astride him and shit in his mouth.
    98. Three girls alternately flog him, one with a martinet, one with a
bull's pizzle, the other with a cat-o'-nine-tails. A fourth, kneeling
before him and whose asshole the lecher's lackey is frigging, sucks the
master's prick while frigging the lackey's, which he has discharge upon his
sucker's buttocks.
    99. He is amidst six girls: one pricks him with a needle, the second
uses pincers on him, the third burns him, the fourth bites him, the fifth
scratches him, the sixth flagellates him. All that everywhere upon his
body, indiscriminately. He discharges in the thick of this activity.
    That evening Zelmire, depucelated on 18th of December, is surrendered
cuntwardly to the assembly - to, that is to say, Curval and the Duc, who
alone of the four friends fuck cunts. Once Curval has fucked Zelmire, his
hatred for Adelaide and Constance redoubles; he wishes to have Constance
minister to Zelmire.
    THE 21ST. 100. He has himself frigged by his lackey while the girl,
naked, balances upon a narrow pedestal; all the while he is being frigged,
she may neither budge nor lose her equilibrium.
    101. He has the procuress frig him while he fondles her buttocks; and
meanwhile, between her fingers, the girl holds a very short candle which
she must not drop until the roue has spat out his fuck; he is very careful
not to discharge before the girl's fingers have been seared.
    102. He sups at an immense table; for light, he has six burning
candles, each inserted in the ass of a naked girl lying upon the dining
table.
    103. While he takes his supper he has a girl kneel on sharp pebbles,
and if in the course of the entire meal she stirs, she is not paid. Above
her are two tilted candles whence hot tallow spills upon her bare back and
breasts. She need but make the slightest movement and she is packed off
without being paid a sou.
    104. He obliges her to remain four days in a very narrow iron cage,
wherein she can neither sit nor lie down; he feeds her through the bars. He
is the one Desgranges will mention in connection with the turkey's ballet.
    That same evening, Curval depucelates Colombe's cunt.
    THE 22ND. 105. He wraps a girl and a cat in a large blanket, has her
stand and dance about; the cat bites, scratches her as she falls to the
floor; but, come what may, she must skip and leap, and continue her antics
until the man discharges.
    106. He massages a woman with a certain substance which causes her skin
to itch so violently that she scratches herself till her blood flows; he
watches her at work, frigging himself the while.
    107. He gives a woman a potion to drink, it halts her menstruating, and
thus he makes her run the risk of grave illness.
    108. He makes her swallow a medicine intended for horses, it causes her
horrible gripes and colics; he watches her suffer and shit all day long.
    109. He rubs a naked girl with honey, then binds her to a column and
releases upon her a swarm of large flies.
    That same evening, Colombe's cunt is put at the free disposition of the
company.
    THE 23RD. 110. He places the girl upon a pivot which revolves with
prodigious speed. She is naked and bound and turns until he discharges.
    111. He keeps a girl suspended head downward until he discharges.
    112. Makes her swallow a heavy dose of emetic, persuades her she has
been poisoned, and frigs himself while watching her vomit.
    113. Kneads and mauls her breasts until they are entirely black and
blue.
    114. Kneads and maltreats her ass for three hours; he repeats this rite
for nine days in succession.
    THE 24TH. 115. He has a girl climb a tall ladder until she is at least
twenty feet above the ground, at which point a rung cracks and she falls,
but upon mattresses prepared in advance; he walks up to her and discharges
upon her body the very moment she lands, and sometimes he chooses this
instant to fuck her.
    116. He slaps a girl's face with all his strength and discharges while
so doing; he is seated in a comfortable chair and the girl is upon her
knees, facing him.
    117. Beats her knuckles with hickory ferrules.
    118. Powerful slaps upon her buttocks until her behind is scarlet.
    119. Inserts the nozzle of a bellows in her asshole; he inflates her.
    120. He introduces an enema of almost boiling water into her bowels,
then amuses himself observing her writhe, and discharges upon her ass.
    That evening, Aline's ass is soundly slapped by the four colleagues,
who keep it up until her ass is crimson; a duenna holds her by the
shoulders. A few slaps are bestowed upon Augustine's ass, too.
    THE 25TH. 121. He has some pious women recruited for his pleasure,
beats them with a crucifix and rosaries, and then has each of them pose as
a statue of the Virgin upon an altar, but pose in a cramped position from
which they are not to budge. They must remain thus throughout an
exceedingly long mass; when at last the Elevation occurs, each woman is to
shit upon the Host.
    122. Has her run naked about a garden at night, the season is winter,
the weather freezing; here and there are stretched cords upon which she
trips and falls.
    123. When she has removed all her clothes, he casts her, as if by
accident, into a vat of nearly boiling water and prevents her from climbing
out until he has first discharged upon her body.
    124. Naked, on a wintry day she is secured to a post in the middle of a
garden and there she remains until she has repeated five Pater Nosters and
five Hail Marys, or until he has yielded his fuck, which another girl
excites to flow as he contemplates the spectacle.
    125. He spreads a powerful glue upon the rim of a privy seat and sends
the girl in to shit; directly she sits down, her ass is caught fast.
Meanwhile, from the other side a small charcoal brazier is introduced
beneath her ass. Scorched, she leaps up, leaving an almost perfect circle
of skin behind her.
    That evening profane tricks are played at the expense of Adelaide and
Sophie, the two believers, and the Duc depucelates Augustine, of whom he
has been passionately fond for weeks; thrice he discharges into her cunt.
And that same evening the idea enters his head to have her run naked
through the courtyard, dreadful though the weather be. He proposes the idea
with great energy and in forceful language, but his confreres regretfully
reject it, saying that Augustine is very pretty and that the program calls
for her further use; and, the Bishop points out, she still has not been
depucelated aft. The Duc offers to pay two hundred louis into the common
fund if the society will allow him to take her down into the cellars at
once; he is again refused. He wishes at least that she have her ass
spanked; she receives twenty-five blows from each friend. But the Duc
applies his with his fist and discharges a fourth time between the
eighteenth and nineteenth. He requisitions her for his bed and that night
encunts her thrice again.
    THE 26TH. 126. He gets the girl thoroughly drunk, she lies down to
sleep. While asleep, her bed is raised. Toward the middle of the night, she
reaches down for her chamber pot; not finding it within reach, she gropes
further and tumbles out upon a mattress; the man awaits her there and fucks
her as soon as she has fallen.
    127. He has her run naked about the garden, he follows after her,
brandishing a cabman's whip, but only threatens her with it. She is obliged
to run until she falls from weariness; at which instant he springs upon her
and fucks her.
    128. He bestows one hundred strokes, ten at a time, with a martinet of
black silk; between each series of blows, he kisses the girl's ass with
great fervor.
    129. He flogs her with a cat-o'-nine-tails whose thongs have been
steeped in brandy, and does not discharge until the girl's blood is
flowing. Then he discharges upon her buttocks.
    Champville recounts only four passions on the 26th of December because
it is the day of the eight week's festival. It is celebrated by the
marriage of Zephyr and Augustine, both of whom belong to the Duc and lie at
night in his chamber; but prior to the ceremony, His Grace would have
Curval flog the boy while he, Blangis, flogs the girl; and 'tis done. Each
receives a hundred lashes, but the Duc, more than ever aroused by Augustine
because she has made him discharge frequently, lays on very emphatically
and is content with nothing short of much blood.
    In connection with that evening's entertainments, we must fully explain
the character of the Saturday punishments - how they are meted out and how
many lashes are distributed. You might draw up a list itemizing the crimes
and, to the right, the appropriate number of lashes.
    THE 27TH. 130. He likes to whip none but little girls between the ages
of five and seven, and always finds a pretext so as to make it appear as if
he were punishing them.
    131. A woman comes to confess to him, he is a priest; she recites all
her sins, and by way of penance, he gives her five hundred lashes.
    132. He receives four women and gives each six hundred lashes.
    133. He has the same ceremony performed in his presence by two valets,
one relieving the other when his arm is fatigued by the whipping; twenty
women are dealt with, each merits six hundred strokes: the women are not
bound. He frigs himself while the work is in progress.
    134. He flogs only boys aged from fourteen to sixteen, and he has them
discharge into his mouth afterward. Each is warmed by one hundred lashes;
he always sees two at a sitting.
    Augustine's cunt is surrendered that evening; Curval encunts her twice
and, like the Duc, wishes to whip her when he has had done with her. Both
gentlemen fall upon that charming girl like ravenous beasts; they propose a
contribution of four hundred louis to the common fund in exchange for
permission to take her in hand together that same evening; their offer is
rejected.
    THE 28TH. 135. He has a naked girl enter a chamber; whereupon two men
fall upon her and each whips one of her buttocks until it is raw. She is
bound. When 'tis over, he frigs the men's pricks upon the whore's bleeding
ass, and frigs himself thereupon also.
    136. She is bound hand and foot to the wall. Facing her, and also
attached to the wall, is a blade of steel adjusted to the height of her
belly. If she strives to avoid a blow, it is forward she must lunge; she
cuts herself. If she wishes to avoid the blade, she must fling herself
backward toward the lash.
    137. He flogs a girl, giving her one hundred lashes the first day, two
hundred the second, four hundred the third, etc., etc., and ceases on the
ninth day.
    138. He has the whore descend on all fours, climbs upon her back and
faces her buttocks; he squeezes his legs tight about her ribs. Once in the
saddle, he brings his lash down upon her ass and curls the thongs round to
her cunt, and as for this operation he employs a martinet, he has no
trouble directing his blows so that they carry into the vagina's interior,
and that is just what he does.
    139. He must have a pregnant woman, he has her bend backward over a
cylinder which supports her back. Her head, on the other side of the
cylinder, rests upon the seat of a chair and is secured to it; her hair is
strewn about, her legs tied as far apart as possible and her swollen belly
appears stretched exceedingly taut; her cunt fairly yawns in his face. 'Tis
upon her belly he beats a tattoo, and when his whip has brought a profusion
of blood into sight, he walks round to the other side of the cylinder and
discharges upon her face.
    N.B.-According to my notes, the adoptions do not occur until after defloration, hence say
that the Duc adopts
Augustine at this point. Verify whether or not this is true, and whether the adoption of the
four sultanas does not
occur at the very beginning, and whether at the beginning it is not said that they sleep in the
bedrooms of the
friends who have adopted them.
    That evening, the Duc repudiates Constance, who therewith falls into
the greatest discredit; however, they treat her with some consideration,
because of her pregnancy, in connection with which Messieurs have certain
plans. Augustine now passes for the Duc's wife, and hereafter performs none
but a wife's functions upon the sofa and in the chapel. Constance descends
in rank to below that of the governesses.
    THE 29TH. 140. He works exclusively with girls of fifteen, and he flogs
them with sting nettles and holly until they are bleeding; his taste in
asses is highly developed, he is not easy to please.
    141. Flogs only with a bull's pizzle, continuing until the buttocks are
in tatters; he uses four women one after another.
    142. Flogs only with steel-tipped martinets, discharges only when blood
is flowing generally.
    143. The same man of whom Desgranges will speak on the 20th of February
requires pregnant women; he flogs with a bullwhip, by means of which he is
able to remove respectable chunks of flesh from the buttocks; from time to
time he aims a blow or two at her belly.
    Rosette is flogged that evening, and Curval has her forward maidenhead.
The intrigue between Hercule and Julie is brought to light; she has been
having herself fucked. When scolded for her misbehavior, she replies
libertinely; she is therewith whipped extraordinarily. Then, because
Messieurs are fond of her, and also of Hercule, who has given yeoman
service so far, they are pardoned and frolicked with.
    THE 30TH. 144. He places a candle at a certain height. Attached to the
middle finger of her right hand is a piece of bread soaked in wax and set
afire; if she does not make haste, she'll be burned. Her task is, with this
bit of ignited bread, to light the other candle set high upon the shelf;
she is obliged to leap in order to reach it; the libertine, armed with a
leathern-thonged whip, lashes her with all his strength, to encourage her
to leap higher and to light the candle more quickly. If she succeeds,
there's an end to the game; if not, she is flogged till she falls
unconscious.
    145. He flogs first his wife, then his daughter, and prostitutes them
at the brothel in order to have them whipped while he looks on, but this is
not the same man of whom we have already spoken.
    146. Whips with a cat-o'-nine-tails, from the nape of the neck to the
calves of the legs; the girl is bound, he excoriates her entire back.
    147. Whips breasts only; he insists that they be exceedingly large. And
pays twice the sum when the woman is pregnant.
    Rosette's cunt is delivered up to the society that evening; after
Curval and the Duc have thoroughly fucked it, they and their colleagues
thoroughly whip it. She is down on her hands and knees; Messieurs take care
to drive the martinet's steel tips well up into her.
    THE 31ST. 148.He whips the face only, using a bundle of dry switches;
he must have charming faces. Desgranges will refer to him on the 7th of
February.
    149. Using switches, he impartially lashes the entire body, sparing
nothing, face, cunt, and breasts included.
    150. Gives two hundred blows of the bull's pizzle, these being
distributed evenly up and down the backs of lads aged from sixteen to
twenty.
    151. He is in a room, four girls arouse and flog him; when at last he
is all afire, he leaps upon a fifth girl, who is naked and awaiting him in
the next room and, wielding a bull's pizzle, he assails whatever of her he
can reach, maintaining the hail of blows until he discharges; but in order
that his ejaculation arrive sooner and the patient suffer less, he is not
sent into the second room until his discharge is imminent.
    (Find out why there is one too many.)
    Champville is applauded, the same honors are bestowed upon her that
were given Duclos, and that evening both storytellers dine with Messieurs.
Later, at the orgies, Adelaide, Aline, Augustine, and Zelmire are condemned
to be whipped with switches all over the body save upon the breasts, but as
the friends are to sport with them for another two months, they are treated
circumspectly.




PART THE THIRD
THE 150 CRIMINAL PASSIONS, OR THOSE BELONGING TO THE THIRD CLASS, COMPOSING
THE THIRTY-ONE DAYS OF JANUARY PASSED IN HEARING THE NARRATIONS OF MADAME
MARTAINE; INTERSPERSED AMONGST WHICH ARE THE SCANDALOUS DOINGS AT THE
CHÂTEAU DURING THAT MONTH; ALL BEING SET DOWN IN THE FORM OF A JOURNAL.
(DRAFT)

    THE 1ST OF JANUARY. 1. He loves nothing but to have himself embuggered,
and he is never able to find too thick a prick. But, says Martaine, she'll
not lay much emphasis upon this passion which is too simple a taste and one
wherewith her auditors are far too well acquainted.
    2. He wishes to depucelate none but little girls between the ages of
three and seven, in the bum. This is the man who had her pucelage in this
manner: she was four years old, the ordeal caused her to fall ill, her
mother implored this man to give aid, money. But his heart was of flint. .
. .
    And this man is the same one of whom Duclos spoke on the 29th of
November; the same again who appears in Champville's story of the 2nd of
December. He has a prick of colossal proportions, he is enormously rich. He
depucelates two little girls every day: one of them in the cunt, in the
morning, as Champville related on the 2nd of December, the other in the
bum, in the afternoon; and he has a quantity of other passions as well.
Four women held Martaine when he embuggered her. His discharge lasts six
minutes, and he bellows like a bull while it is in progress. His simple,
straightforward, and adroit method of threading her needle, even though she
was a young thing of four; describe all that.
    3. Her mother sells the pucelage of Martaine's older brother to a man
who sodomizes boys only, and who would have them exactly seven years old.
    4. She is now thirteen, her brother fifteen; they go to the home of a
man who constrains the brother to fuck his sister, and who alternately
fucks now the boy's ass, now the girl's, while they are in each other's
clutches.
    Martaine proudly describes her ass; Messieurs request her to display
it, she exhibits it from the platform.
    The man she has just spoken of, she continues, is the same person who
figured in Duclos' story of the 21st of November, the Comte, and who will
appear in Desgranges' of the 24th of February.
    5. He has himself fucked while embuggering the brother and sister; the
same personage Desgranges will refer to on the 24th of February.
    That same evening, the Duc depucelates the bum of Hebe, who is merely
twelve. The operation succeeds only at the price of infinite trouble: she
is held by the four duennas and administered by Duclos and Champville. And
as there is to be a festival on the morrow, in order that things run
smoothly then, Hebe's ass is also, on the evening of the 1st of January,
surrendered to the society, and all four friends take full advantage of it.
She is carried away unconscious; has been buggered seven times.
    (Martaine must not say that she has a uterine deformity; that would be false.)
    THE 2ND. 6. He has four girls fart in his mouth all the while he
embuggers a fifth, then he changes girls. All rotate: all fart, all are
embuggered; he does not discharge until he has finished with the fifth ass.
    7. Amuses himself with three small boys: embuggers and has each of them
shit, puts all three to each task, and frigs the boy who is inactive.
    8. He fucks the sister in the mouth while having her brother shit into
his mouth, then he reverses their roles, and during both exercises he is
embuggered.
    9. He embuggers none but girls of fifteen, but only after having, by
way of preliminary, flogged them with all his strength.
    10. For an hour he pinches and molests her buttocks and asshole, then
embuggers her while she is flogged with exceeding violence.
    The ninth week's festival is celebrated upon that day: Hercule weds
Hebe and fucks her cuntwardly. Curval and the Duc take turns sodomizing
first the husband, then the wife.
    THE 3RD. 11. He embuggers only during mass, and discharges at the
moment of the Elevation of the Host.
    12. He embuggers only while kicking a crucifix about in the dust; the
girl must treat it with like contempt.
    13. The man who amused himself with Eugenie on Duclos' eleventh day has
the girl shit, wipes the well-beshitted ass; he possesses an outsized
prick, and embuggers, ploughing into the asshole behind a consecrated Host.
    14. Embuggers a youth, has a second youth embugger him, both ploughing,
as above, behind a protective Host; upon the nape of the neck of the boy he
is embuggering rests another Host, and a third youth shits thereupon. He
discharges thus, without changing position, but while uttering fearful
blasphemies.
    15. He embuggers the priest while the latter is in the act of saying
mass, and when the priest has performed the consecration, the fucker
withdraws for a moment; profiting from this brief interval, the priest
buries the Host in his ass, the fucker returns straightway to work and re-
embuggers him, tamping in the wafer.
    That evening, Curval, with a Host depucelates in the bum the young and
charming Zelamir. And Antinoüs fucks the President with another Host; while
fucking, the President's tongue pushes a third into Fanchon's asshole.
    THE 4TH. 16. He likes to embugger none but very aged women while they
are being lashed.
    17. Embuggers only very aged men while being fucked.
    18. Has a regular intrigue with his son.
    19. Will embugger none but monsters, or blackamoors, or deformed
persons.
    20. In order to combine incest, adultery, sodomy and sacrilege, he
embuggers his married daughter with a Host.
    That evening the four friends avail themselves of Zelamir's ass.
    THE 5TH. 21. He has two men alternately fuck and flagellate him while
he embuggers a young boy and while an old man sheds a turd into his mouth.
He eats the turd.
    22. Two men take turns fucking him, one in the mouth, the other in the
ass; this exercise must last no less than three hours by the clock. He
swallows the fuck emanating from him who fucks him in the mouth.
    23. He has himself fucked by ten men, whom he pays so much by the
discharge; during a given day he withstands as many as twenty-four without
himself discharging.
    24. For the purposes of ass-fuckery, he prostitutes his wife, his
daughter, and his sister, and watches the proceedings.
    25. He employs eight men at a time: one in his mouth, one in his ass,
one beneath his left testicle, one beneath his right; he frigs two others,
each with one hand, he lodges a seventh between his thighs and the eighth
frigs himself upon his face.
    That evening, the Duc deflowers Michette's ass and causes her frightful
pain.
    THE 6TH. 26. He has an elderly man embuggered in his presence; several
times over the prick is removed from that ancient asshole, it is placed in
the mouth of the examiner, who sucks it, then sucks the old man's prick,
sucks his asshole, and penetrates it while he who has been fucking the old
man now embuggers the lecher, and is lashed by the lecher's governess. For
the lecher is still a young man.
    27. He vigorously constricts the neck of the fifteen-year-old girl he
is embuggering - choking her neck has the effect of tightening her anus;
meanwhile, he is flogged with a bull's pizzle.
    28. He has large spheres of quicksilver inserted into his bowels. These
spheres rise up in his entrails, then descend, and during the excessive
titillation caused thereby, he sucks pricks, swallows fuck, has shit out of
whores' asses, bolts turds. This ecstasy lasts a good two hours.
    29. He would have himself embuggered by the father while he sodomizes
that father's son and daughter.
    Michette's ass is surrendered to the company that evening. Durcet
selects Martaine for his bedroom companion, following the precedent
established by the Duc, who has Duclos, and by Curval, who has Fanchon;
Martaine has begun to exert upon Durcet much the same lubricious influence
Duclos exerts upon Blangis.
    THE 7TH. 30. He fucks a turkey whose head is gripped between the legs
of a girl lying on her belly - while in action he looks quite as if he were
embuggering the girl. While he is at work he is being sodomized, and the
moment he discharges, the girl cuts the turkey's throat.
    31. He fucks a goat from behind while being flogged; the goat conceives
and gives birth to a monster. Monster though it be, he embuggers it.
    32. He embuggers bucks.
    33. Wishes to see a woman discharge after having been frigged by a dog;
and he shoots the dog dead while its head is between the woman's thighs.
But he does not harm the woman.
    34. Embuggers a swan after having popped a Host up into its ass; then
strangles the bird upon discharging.
    This same evening, the Bishop embuggers Cupidon for the first time.
    THE 8TH. 35. He has himself placed in a specially prepared wickerwork
structure provided with an opening at one end; against this opening he
places his asshole after having anointed it with mare's fuck. The structure
he is in represents a mare's body and is covered with horsehide. A genuine
horse is fetched in, mounts the artificial mare, embuggers him and
meanwhile he fucks a pretty white bitch he has with him in the basket.
    36. He fucks a cow, it conceives and gives birth to a monster which,
shortly thereafter, he fucks.
    37. In a similar basket he places a woman who receives a bull's member
in her cunt. He watches this entertaining spectacle.
    38. He has a tamed serpent which he introduces into his anus; while
being thus sodomized, he embuggers a cat in a basket. Firmly contained
therein, the animal can do him no harm.
    39. He fucks a she-ass while having himself embuggered by an ass. (For
this delight an elaborate machine is indispensable. We will give a
description of it elsewhere.)
    That evening, Cupidon's ass is presented to the society.
    THE 9TH. 40. He fucks the nostrils of a goat which meanwhile is licking
his balls; and during this exercise, he is alternately flogged and has his
asshole licked.
    41. He embuggers a sheep while a dog is licking his asshole.
    42. He embuggers a dog whose head is cut off while he discharges.
    43. He obliges a whore to frig a donkey, he is fucked while observing
this spectacle.
    44. He fucks a monkey's asshole, the animal is enclosed in a basket;
while being sodomized, the monkey is tormented in order that its anus will
constrict about the libertine's member.
    That evening, the tenth week's festival is celebrated by the marriage
of Bum-Cleaver and Michette; the union is consummated, 'tis a dolorous
experience for the bride.
    THE 10TH. Martaine announces that she is going to move on to another
passion, and that the whip, of central importance in Champville's
contributions of December, will enjoy only a secondary one in hers.
    45. The procuress is obliged to find him girls guilty of some felony or
other; he arrives, frightens them, says that they are going certainly to be
arrested but that he will take it upon himself to protect them provided
they will submit to a violent fustigation, and, afraid as they are, they
let themselves be whipped till they bleed.
    46. Has a woman with beautiful hair brought to him, saying he simply
wishes to examine her hair; but he cuts it off very traitorously and
discharges upon seeing her melt into tears and bewail her misfortune, at
which he laughs immoderately.
    47. With all sorts of attendant ceremonies, she enters a dark room. She
sees no one there, but overhears a conversation regarding her - give
details of this conversation - which is of a nature to frighten her nearly
to death. Finally, she receives a deluge of slaps and blows without knowing
whence they come; she hears the cries accompanying a discharge, then is
taken out of the room.
    48. She enters a kind of subterranean sepulcher which is lit by nothing
but a few oil lamps; they reveal all the horror of the place. After a
moment, during which she is able to observe everything, all the lamps are
extinguished, a horrible series of screams and the rattling of chains are
heard, she collapses in a swoon; if she does not faint, the noises are
multiplied until finally she does fall unconscious from terror. Once
unconscious, a man swoops down upon her and embuggers her, then abandons
her, and valets later come to her rescue; he must have very young and very
inexperienced girls. Novices, if possible.
    49. She enters a similar place, but provide a few details to
distinguish it from the sepulcher above. She is stripped, thrust naked into
a coffin, the coffin's lid is nailed down, and the rhythm of the hammer
driving the nails finally excites the man's discharge.
    That afternoon, Zelmire was taken down to the cellars we have
previously mentioned, which had been prepared in the manner we have just
described. The four friends are there, naked and equipped with weapons;
Zelmire swoons, and while she is unconscious, Curval depucelates her bum.
The President has been seized by the very same sentiments of love (mixed
with lubric rage) for this girl that the Duc has for Augustine.
    THE 11TH. 50. The same Duc de Florville, of whom Duclos spoke on the
29th of November, and of whom Desgranges, in her fifth story, will speak on
the 26th of February, wishes to have the corpse of a beautiful and recently
murdered girl placed upon a bed covered with black satin; he fondles the
body, explores its every nook and cranny, and embuggers it.
    51. Another individual requires two corpses, those of a boy and of a
girl, and he embuggers the youth's dead body while kissing the buttocks of
the girl's and driving his tongue into its anus.
    52. He receives the girl in a small room filled with most convincing
wax representations of dead bodies, they are all pierced in various ways.
He recommends that the girl make her choice, saying he intends to kill her
in whatever way she prefers, inviting her to choose the corpse whose wounds
please her most.
    53. He binds her to an authentic corpse, knee to knee, mouth to mouth,
and flogs her until the back of her body is covered with blood.
    Zelmire's ass is made the evening's treat, but before being served up,
she is subjected to a trial, and she is advised that she will be killed
that night; she believes what she is told but, instead of dispatching her,
Messieurs are content each to give her a hundred lashes after having
generously embuggered her, and Curval takes her to bed with him. She is
further embuggered all night.
    THE 12TH. 54. The girl must be menstruating. She arrives at his home, a
valet conducts her to a room in the cellar where the libertine stands
awaiting her, but he is near a kind of reservoir of icy water, more than
twelve feet across and eight deep; it is concealed in such a way the girl
does not notice it. She approaches the man, he topples her into it, and
discharges the instant he hears the splash; she is pulled back out at once,
but as she is menstruating, severe disability is the very frequent result
of her adventure.
    55. He lowers her into a very deep well and shouts down after her that
he is about to fill it with large stones; he flings in a few clods of earth
to frighten her, and discharges into the well, his seed landing on the
naked whore's head.
    56. He has a pregnant woman brought to him and terrifies her with
threats and words, flogs her, continuing his ill-treatment of her until she
either has a miscarriage there and then, or will surely have one when she
returns home. If she disgorges her fruit while under his roof, she receives
double payment.
    57. He locks her into a black dungeon, surrounded by cats, rats, and
mice; he gives her to understand she has been put there for the rest of her
life, and every day he goes to her door, frigs himself, and banters with
her.
    58. He inserts sheafs of straw in her ass, ignites them, and watches
her buttocks sizzle as the straw burns short.
    That evening, Curval announces he will take Zelmire to be his wife, and
does indeed publicly marry her. The Bishop officiates at the wedding, the
President repudiates Julie who therewith falls into the greatest discredit,
but her libertinage speaks strongly in her favor and the Bishop is disposed
to protect her somewhat until the time shall arrive for him to declare
himself entirely for her - he will so declare himself later on.
    More clearly than ever before, upon this particular evening his
associates notice Durcet's teasing hatred for Adelaide; he torments her,
vexes her, she wails and is melancholy. And her father, the President, does
not by any means give her his support.
    THE 13TH. 59. He attaches a girl to a St. Andrew's cross suspended in
the air, and whips her with all his might, flaying her entire back. After
which, he unties her and casts her out through a window, but mattresses are
there to lighten her fall, upon hearing which he discharges. Give further
details of the scene in order to justify his reaction.
    60. He has her swallow a drug which unhinges her imagination and causes
her to see horrible things in the room. She fancies the room is being
flooded, sees the water rise, climbs upon a chair, but still the water
mounts, reaches her, and she is told that she has no alternative but to
leap in and swim; she plunges, but falls upon the stone floor and injures
herself badly. 'Tis at this point the libertine discharges; previously, he
has taken much pleasure in kissing her ass.
    61. He holds her suspended by a rope that runs up through a pulley
affixed to the top of a tower; he stands at a window, she hangs directly
outside and opposite him. He frigs himself and threatens to sever the rope
as he discharges. While all this is afoot he is being flogged, and earlier
he induces the whore to shit for him.
    62. She is held by four slender cords, each attached to one of her
limbs. She is held thus in a very cruel and painful position; a trap door
is opened beneath her and a charcoal brazier, very hot, is discovered to
her view: if the cords break, she falls thereupon. The roue meddles with
the cords, strains them, cuts one while discharging. Sometimes he suspends
the girl in the same attitude, places a weight upon her belly, then
suddenly jerks all four cords, pulling her up, and in so doing rupturing
her stomach and tearing her muscles. She remains where she is until he
discharges.
    63. He binds her to a low stool; suspended a foot above her head is a
dagger whose point is filed needle sharp; the dagger hangs by a hair - if
the hair snaps, the dagger drives into her skull. The libertine frigs
himself while watching his victim's anxious contortions. An hour later, he
frees her and bloodies her buttocks with light jabs of the same dagger
which, he would like to have her remark, pricks very nicely; he discharges
upon her bloodsoaked ass.
    That evening, the Bishop depucelates Colombe's bum, and after his
discharge lashes her with a whip, for he cannot bear to have a girl cause
him to discharge.
    THE 14TH. 64. He embuggers a young novice who knows nothing of the ways
of the world, and as he discharges, he fires two pistol shots very close to
her ear. The powder singes her hair.
    65. He makes her sit down in an armchair balanced on springs; her
weight releases a number of springs connected to iron rings which bind her
tightly to the chair. Certain levers and gears advance twenty daggers until
their points graze her skin; the man frigs himself, the while explaining
that the least movement of the chair will cause her to be stabbed. He
sprays his fuck upon her, in so doing touching the chair very delicately
with his foot.
    66. A bascule carries her down into a small crypt hung in black and
furnished with a prie-dieu, a coffin, and an assortment of death's heads.
She sees six specters armed with clubs, swords, pistols, sabers, poignards,
and lances, and each is about to pierce her in a different place. Overcome
by fear, she sways, is about to fall; the man enters, catches her in his
arms, and flogs her until he is weary, then discharges as he embuggers her.
If she is unconscious at the time he enters, and this is frequently the
case, his lash restores her to her senses.
    67. She enters a room in a tower, in its center she sees a large
charcoal brazier; upon a table, poison and a dirk; she is allowed to choose
the manner whereby she is to perish. It generally happens that she selects
poison. 'Tis a variety of opiate which plunges her into a profound
drowsiness; while the spell lasts, the libertine embuggers her. He is the
same personage Duclos cited on the 27th of November and of whom Desgranges
will say more on the 6th of February.
    68. The same gentleman who will figure in Desgranges' story of the 16th
of February goes through the entire ceremony of preparing to decapitate the
girl; just as the blow falls, a rope suddenly snatches the girl's body
away, the axe-blade sinks three inches into the block. If the rope does not
drag the girl away, she dies. He discharges while bringing down the axe.
But prior to this, he has embuggered her as she lies with her neck upon the
block.
    Colombe's ass is plumbed by the society that evening, and Messieurs
pretend to cut off her head. They are accomplished actors.
    THE 15TH. 69. He slips a noose around the whore's throat and hangs her.
Her feet rest upon a stool, a cord is tied to one leg of the stool, he sits
in an armchair, watching and having the whore's daughter frig him. When he
discharges, he pulls the cord, the whore hangs, he leaves, valets enter and
cut the whore down. A leech lets some blood from one of her veins and she
returns to life, but these attentions are given her without the libertine's
knowledge. He goes off to bed with the whore's daughter and sodomizes her
all night long, while doing so telling her he has hanged her mother. Have
Martaine say that Desgranges will refer to him again.
    70. He holds the girl by the ears and walks her around the room,
discharging as he parades with her.
    71. He pinches the girl's body, nipping her everywhere save upon the
breast, till she turns black and blue.
    72. He pinches her breasts, molests them, and kneads them until they
are completely bruised.
    73. He writes letters and words upon her breasts, working with a needle
which has a poisoned tip; her breasts become infected, and she suffers
excruciatingly.
    74. Drives between one and two thousand pins into her breasts, and
discharges when he has covered them.
    More libertine with every passing day, Julie is discovered frigging
herself with Champville. The Bishop affords her additional protection and
thereafter admits her into his bedchamber, as the Duc has Duclos, Durcet
Martaine, and Curval Fanchon. Julie confesses that at the time of her
repudiation, having been condemned to sleep in the stables with the other
animals, she appealed to Champville and was taken into her chamber; they
have been bedding together ever since.
    THE 16TH. 75. He buries large hatpins in the girl's flesh, dotting her
entire body, her nipples included; he discharges after having driven home
the last pin. Desgranges will return to the same enthusiast in her fourth
story of the 27th of February.
    76. He gives her a great deal to drink, then sews up her cunt and
asshole; he leaves her thus sealed up till he remarks she is nigh to
collapsing from the need to piss and shit, two activities which are
impossible in the state she is in; or else he waits until the weight of the
shit and the pressure of the piss finally breaks the stitches.
    77. Four gentlemen enter the room and cuff the girl, strike and kick
her until she falls. When she is down, all four mutually frig one another
and discharge.
    78. She is deprived of air, then given air, then 'tis taken away again.
She is lodged within a pneumatic machine.
    To celebrate the end of the eleventh week, the wedding of Colombe and
Antinoüs takes place that day, and is consummated. The Duc, who has been
indulging in some prodigious cunt-fuckery with Augustine, has been seized
by a lubricious fury: he has had Duclos hold her, and has given her three
hundred lashes distributed between the middle of her back and her calves,
and, after that, has embuggered Duclos while kissing Augustine's flogged
ass. Directly after having molested her, he does some foolish things, for
his head is completely giddy: he has her sit beside him at table, will
touch no food save what he has out of her mouth, dotes upon her, and does a
thousand other things, all very illogical and very libertine. But he and
his confreres are men of that strange turn of character.
    THE 17TH. 79. He binds the girl belly down upon a dining table and eats
a piping hot omelette served upon her buttocks. He uses an exceedingly
sharp fork.
    80. He immobilizes her head above a grill, lights a brisk fire, and
roasts her until she loses consciousness, embuggering her steadily.
    81. He gently toasts the skin of her breasts and buttocks, proceeding
very gradually, and using sulphur-tipped matches.
    82. He uses candles and extinguishes them again and again by snuffing
them out in her cunt, her asshole, and upon her nipples.
    83. With a match he sears her eyelids; this prevents her from sleeping
soundly that night, for she cannot close her eyes.
    That evening, the Duc depucelates Giton, who finds the experience
discomfiting, for the Duc is enormous, fucks with great brutality, and
Giton is, after all, only twelve.
    THE 18TH. 84. Pointing a pistol at her heart, he obliges her to chew
and swallow a live coal, and then he washes out her cunt with aqua fortis.
    85. He has her dance the olivettes. Naked, she is to dance round four
pillars; but the only path her naked feet can tread is studded with shards
of broken glass and bits of sharp metal and pointed tacks and nails; by
each pillar stands a man, a bundle of switches in his hand, and he lashes
whichever side of her body she offers every time she passes by him. She is
thus obliged to run a certain number of turns around, it all depending upon
whether she is more or less attractive. The most beautiful are harried the
most.
    86. He strikes her violently in the face until the blows of his fist
bring blood from her nose, and he continues yet a while longer, the blood
notwithstanding; he discharges and mixes his fuck with the blood she has
lost.
    87. Employing very well-heated tongs, he pinches her flesh, and mainly
her buttocks, her mons veneris and her breasts. Desgranges will have more
to say about this personage.
    88. Upon various parts of her naked, reclining body, especially the
more sensitive areas, he places little mounds of gunpowder, then sets fire
to them.
    Giton's ass is made public property that evening, and after this
ceremony, he is flogged by Curval, the Duc, and the Bishop, who have fucked
him.
    THE 19TH. 89. He inserts a cylinder of gunpowder in her cunt, removes
the cylinder, leaves the powder there; he puts a match to the charge and
ejaculates upon seeing the flames dart forth. Earlier, he has kissed her
ass.
    90. He soaks her everywhere from head to foot with brandy, brings a
match near and entertains himself with the spectacle of this poor girl all
covered with flames. Then he discharges. He repeats the same operation two
or three times.
    91. He gives her bowels a rinsing with boiling oil.
    92. He introduces a red-hot iron into her anus, another into her cunt,
after having thoroughly whipped the latter.
    93. He likes to trample upon a pregnant woman until she aborts. Prior
to this he whips her.
    That same evening, Curval depucelates Sophie's bum, but this ordeal
succeeds another: she has first been given one hundred lashes by each of
the friends and is streaming blood. Directly Curval has discharged into her
ass, he offers to pay the society five hundred louis for permission to take
her down to the cellars that very evening and to be given a free hand with
her. Curval's request is rejected, he re-embuggers her, and upon emerging
from her ass after this second discharge, he gives her a kick which sends
her sprawling upon a mattress fifteen feet away. He revenges himself upon
Zelmire, whom he flogs till his arm aches.
    THE 20TH. 94. He appears to be caressing the girl who is frigging him,
she suspects nothing; but at the moment he discharges, he seizes her head
and batters it against the wall. The blow is so strong and so unexpected
that she usually falls unconscious.
    95. They are four libertines assembled; they judge a girl, and,
ultimately disagreeing upon what punishment to inflict, decide to sentence
her individually. All in all, she receives one hundred strokes of the whip;
each juror metes out twenty-five of them: the first flogs her from the back
to the loins, the second from the loins to the calves, the third from the
neck to the navel, breasts included, the fourth from the belly to the
shins.
    96. Using a pin, he pricks each of her eyes, each nipple, and her
clitoris.
    97. He drops molten sealing wax upon her buttocks, into her cunt, and
upon her breasts.
    98. He opens the veins in one arm and bleeds her until she faints.
    Curval suggests they bleed Constance because of her pregnancy; and bled
she is, until she collapses, 'tis Durcet who acts as her leech. That
evening, Messieurs avail themselves of Sophie's ass, and the Duc proposes
she be bled also, it could not possibly do her any harm, no, on the
contrary, they might make a nice pudding of her blood for tomorrow's
luncheon. His idea is acclaimed, Curval now plays the leech, Duclos frigs
him while he operates, and he wishes to make the puncture at the same
moment his fuck departs his balls; and he makes a generous puncture, but
his blade finds the vein none the less. Despite it all, Sophie has pleased
the Bishop, who adopts her for his wife, repudiating Aline, who falls into
the greatest discredit.
    THE 21ST. 99. He bleeds both of her arms and would have her remain
standing while her blood flows; now and again he stops the bleeding and
flogs her, then opens the wounds again, and this continues until she
collapses. He only discharges when she faints. Earlier in the game he had
her shit for him.
    100. He bleeds her from all four of her limbs and from her jugular vein
too, and frigs himself while watching the five fountains of blood.
    101. He lightly scarifies her flesh, concentrating upon her buttocks,
but neglecting her breasts.
    102. He scarifies her vigorously, cutting deep, devoting particular
attention to her breasts and especially to her nipples, and to the environs
of her asshole when he turns his attentions to her behind. Next, he
cauterizes the wounds with a red-hot iron.
    103. He is bound hand and foot, as if he were a wild beast, and he is
draped in a tiger's skin. When thus readied, he is excited, irritated,
whipped, beaten, his ass is frigged; opposite him is a plump young girl,
naked and tied by her feet to the floor, by her neck to the ceiling, in
such wise she cannot stir. When the roue is all a-sweat, his captors free
him, he leaps upon the girl, bites her everywhere and above all her
clitoris and her nipples, which he generally manages to remove with his
teeth. He roars and cries like a ferocious animal, and discharges while
shrieking. The girl must shit, he eats her turd upon the floor.
    That evening, the Bishop depucelates Narcisse; he is surrendered to the
society the same evening, so that the festival of the 23rd will not be
disturbed. Before embuggering him, the Duc has him shit into his mouth and
render him, together with the turd, his predecessors' fuck. And then, after
having sodomized the lad, Blangis scourges him.
    THE 22ND. 104. He pulls out her teeth and scratches her gums with
needles. Sometimes he heats the needles.
    105. He breaks one of her fingers, several upon occasion.
    106. Employing a heavy hammer, he flattens one of her feet.
    107. He removes a hand, sawing through the wrist.
    108. While discharging, he batters in her front teeth with a hammer. He
is very fond of sucking her mouth before proceeding to the major phase of
his operation.
    The Duc depucelates Rosette in the rear that evening, and the same
instant his prick sounds her ass, Curval extracts one of the little girl's
teeth - this in order that she may experience two terrible pains at the
same time. So that the morrow's festival not be disturbed, her ass is made
generally available that same evening. When Curval has discharged thereinto
(and he is the last of the four to do so), he sends the child spinning with
a blow of his fist.
    THE 23RD. Because of the holiday, only four are related.
    109. He amputates one foot.
    110. He breaks one of her arms as he embuggers her.
    111. Using a crowbar, he breaks a bone in her leg and embuggers her
after doing so.
    112. He ties her to a stepladder, her limbs being attached in a
peculiar manner, a cord is tied to the ladder; he pulls the cord, the
ladder falls. Sometimes she breaks one limb, sometimes another.
    Upon that day Invictus was married to Rosette; their wedding celebrated
the twelfth week's festival. That evening, Rosette is bled after she has
been fucked, and Aline is likewise bled after Hercule has fucked her; both
are bled in such a way their blood spurts upon our libertines' thighs and
pricks. Messieurs frig themselves while looking on, and discharge when both
have fainted.
    THE 24TH. 113. He cuts off one of her ears. (See to it that you specify
what these persons do by way of a prelude to their major stunt.)
    114. He slits her lips and nostrils.
    115. After having sucked and bitten it, he pierces her tongue with a
hot iron.
    116. He tears several nails from her fingers, and also from her toes.
    117. He cuts off one of her fingers at the last joint.
    And, upon close questioning, the storyteller having said that, provided
the wound is dressed at once, such a mutilation has no undesirable
aftereffects, Durcet straightway cuts the end off one of Adelaide's
fingers, for his lewd jesting and teasing have been increasingly directed
against her. His practical joke fetches a discharge from him, his flow of
fuck is accompanied by unheard-of transports.
    That same evening, Curval depucelates Augustine's ass, even though she
is now the Duc's wife. Her anguish, her sufferings. Curval rages against
her afterward; he conspires with the Duc to take her down to the cellars
without further delay, and they tell Durcet that if they are granted
permission to carry out the expedition, they in their turn will allow him
to dispatch Adelaide at once, but the Bishop delivers an impassioned sermon
to those truants, and obtains the promise that they will restrain
themselves yet a little longer for the sake of their own pleasure. Curval
and the Duc hence limit themselves to giving Augustine a ferocious
whipping. Both lash her at once.
    THE 25TH. 118. He distills fifteen or twenty drops of molten lead into
her mouth and burns her gums with aqua fortis.
    119. After having had her lick his beshitted ass with her tongue, he
snips off the end of that same tongue, then, when once she is mutilated, he
embuggers her.
    120. He employs a machine involving a hollow steel bit which bores
holes in the flesh and which, when removed, takes with it a round chunk of
flesh which is as long as the drill has penetrated; the machine bores on
automatically if not withdrawn.
    121. He transforms a boy of ten or twelve into a eunuch.
    122. With a pair of pliers isolating and raising each nipple, he cuts
off the same with a pair of scissors.
    That same evening, Augustine's ass is made generally available. While
embuggering her, Curval had wished to kiss Constance's breast, and upon
discharging, he made off with a nipple in his teeth, but as her wound was
treated and bandaged at once, Messieurs assured one another that the
accident would have no harmful effect upon the child in her womb. Curval
says to his colleagues, in answer to their pleasantries upon his mounting
rage against Constance, that he has no control over the fury she inspires
in him.
    When in his turn the Duc embuggers Augustine, his own powerful feelings
for that beautiful girl are exhaled with incomparable violence: had the
others not kept an eye upon him, he would have injured her, either while
mauling her breasts or squeezing her neck with all his strength as he
discharged. Once again he asks the society to put her in his power, but he
is requested to wait for Desgranges' narrations. His brother entreats him
to be patient and abstain until he himself sets an example by dispatching
Aline; haste, the Bishop points out, makes waste; and why spoil the latter
part of the holiday by upsetting a schedule admirably designed to guarantee
them a daily fare of moderation, wherein only happiness lies? However, the
Duc will not listen to reason, he cannot any longer hold himself in check,
and so, since he absolutely must torture the lovely girl, he is allowed to
inflict a light wound upon her arm. He executes it upon the fleshy part of
her left forearm, sucks blood from the cut he has made, and discharges;
Augustine is so skillfully patched up that four days later no trace of the
Duc's teeth marks is to be seen.
    THE 26TH. 123. He breaks a bottle of thin glass against the face of the
girl, who is bound and unable to protect herself; before doing so, he
sucked her mouth with great vigor and sucked her tongue also.
    124. He tears off both her legs, ties one of her hands behind her back,
puts a little stick into her free hand, and invites her to defend herself.
Then he attacks her, wielding his sword with great vigor and dexterity,
wounds her here and there, and finally discharges upon her wounds.
    125. He stretches her upon a St. Andrew's cross, goes through the
ceremony of breaking her, strains but does not dislocate three of her
limbs, but does definitely break the fourth, either an arm or a leg.
    126. Pistol in hand, he has her stand facing to the right and lets fly
with a charge which grazes her two breasts; he aims to shoot away one of
her little nipples.
    127. He has her crouch down twenty feet away and present her buttocks;
he shoots a bullet up her ass.
    That same evening, the Bishop depucelates Fanny's bum.
    THE 27TH. 128. The same man of whom Desgranges will speak on the 24th
of February flogs a pregnant woman upon the belly until she miscarries; she
must lay the egg in his presence, and he lashes her till she does.
    129. He very tidily castrates a young lad of sixteen or seventeen after
having embuggered and whipped him.
    130. He must have a maiden brought to him, he slices off her clitoris
with a razor, then deflowers her with a cylinder of heated iron, driving
the device home with hammer blows.
    131. This personage performs an abortion when the woman's pregnancy has
entered its eighth month. He forces her to drink a certain brew which
brings the child out dead in a trice. Upon other occasions, this libertine
by his art causes the child to be born from the mother's asshole. But the
child emerges dead, and the woman's life is gravely imperiled.
    132. He severs an arm.
    That evening, Fanny's ass is made generally available, Durcet rescues
her from a torture his colleagues had been preparing for her; he takes her
to be his wife, has the Bishop perform the marriage, and repudiates
Adelaide, who is submitted to the torture originally readied for Fanny. It
is however a paltry business after all: the Duc embuggers her while Durcet
breaks her finger.
    THE 28TH. 133. He cuts off both hands at the wrist and cauterizes the
wounds with a hot iron.
    134. He removes the tongue, cutting it at the roots, and cauterizes it
with a hot iron.
    135. He amputates one leg, usually having someone else cut it off while
he embuggers her.
    136. He extracts all her teeth, replacing each one with a red-hot nail,
which he secures in place with a hammer; he does this directly after having
fucked the woman in the mouth.
    137. He removes one eye.
    Julie is roundly whipped by everyone that evening and all her fingers
are pricked with a needle. This latter operation takes place while the
Bishop, who is passing fond of her, embuggers her.
    THE 29TH. 138. Allowing molten sealing wax to flow thereupon, he blinds
and ultimately dissolves first one eye, then the other.
    139. He neatly slices off one breast, then cauterizes the wound with a
hot iron. Desgranges will here interject that 'tis this same man who made
off with the nipple she is missing, and that she is positively certain he
ate it after having cooked it upon a griddle.
    140. He amputates both buttocks after having flogged and embuggered
her. It is believed that he too eats the meat.
    141. He shaves off both her ears.
    142. Clips off all the extremities, to wit: ten fingers, ten toes, two
nipples, one clitoris and the end of the tongue.
    That evening, Aline, after a vigorous whipping given her by the four
friends and an embuggery the Bishop performs for the last time, is
condemned to have a finger on either hand and a toe on either foot cut off
by each friend. Thus she loses a total of eight parts.
    THE 30TH. 143. He carves away several chunks of flesh, selecting them
from divers areas upon her body; he has them roasted and obliges her to eat
them with him. Desgranges will mention the same man on the 8th and 17th of
February.
    144. He cuts off a young boy's four limbs, embuggers the trunk, feeds
him well and allows him so to live; as the arms and legs were not severed
too close to the body, the boy lives for quite a while. And the surgeon
embuggers him steadily for approximately a year.
    145. He chains one of the girl's hands and secures the chain to the
wall; he leaves her thus, without food. Near her is a large knife, and just
beyond her reach sits an excellent meal: if she wishes to eat, she has but
to cut through her forearm; otherwise, she dies of starvation. Prior to
this he has embuggered her. He observes her through a window.
    146. He manacles both mother and daughter; in order that they both
survive, one has got to get to the food placed not far away: survival, that
is, means that one must sacrifice a hand. He amuses himself listening to
them discuss their dilemma, and argue about who is to resolve it.
    She recounts only four stories, for that evening the thirteenth week's
festival is to take place. During it, the Duc, acting in the capacity of a
woman, is married to Hercule, who is to be the husband; acting now as a
man, the Duc takes Zephyr to be his wife. The young bardash who, as the
reader is aware, possesses the prettiest ass amongst the eight boys, is
dressed as a girl, and so clad appears as beautiful as the goddess of love.
The ceremony is consecrated by the Bishop and transpires within the sight
of the entire household. The dear little Zephyr surrenders his virginal bum
to the Duc, who finds all his pleasure therein, but much trouble making a
successful entry; Zephyr is rather badly torn, and bleeds profusely.
Hercule fucks the Duc throughout this operation.
    THE 31ST. 147. He plucks out both her eyes and leaves her locked in a
room, saying that she has before her what she needs to eat, that she has
but to get up and search for it. But in order to reach the food she must
cross a broad plate of iron, which, of course, she cannot see, and which is
kept heated to a very high temperature. Situated at a window, he amuses
himself watching how she manages: will she burn herself, or will she prefer
to perish from hunger? She has been, previously, very soundly whipped.
    148. He subjects her to the rope torture; this consists in having one's
four limbs tied to ropes, then one is raised high in the air and suddenly
dropped from a considerable height, then raised, then dropped; each fall
dislocates and sometimes breaks the limbs, because one never quite falls to
the ground, the ropes halting one just a short distance above it.
    149. He inflicts upon her a quantity of deep wounds into which he pours
boiling pitch and molten lead.
    150. The moment after she gives birth to a child, he binds her hand and
foot, and ties her child not far away from her. The infant wails, she is
unable to get to it. And thus she must watch it expire. Then he steps up
and lashes the mother, aiming his whip-strokes at her cunt and managing the
thing so that the interior of her vagina is well tickled. He himself is
usually the child's father.
    151. He gives her copiously to drink, then sews up her cunt, her
asshole and her mouth as well, and leaves her thus until the water bursts
through its conduits, or until she dies.
    (Determine why there is one too many; if one is to be deleted, suppress the last, for I
believe I have already
used it.)
    That same evening, Messieurs avail themselves of Zephyr's ass, and
Adelaide is condemned to a rude fustigation, after which a hot iron is
brought very close to the interior of her vagina, to her armpits, and she
is slightly scorched beneath each nipple. She endures it all like a heroine
and frequently invokes God. This further arouses her persecutors.




PART THE FOURTH
THE 150 MURDEROUS PASSIONS, OR THOSE BELONGING TO THE FOURTH CLASS,
COMPOSING THE TWENTY-EIGHT DAYS OF FEBRUARY SPENT IN HEARING THE NARRATIONS
OF MADAME DESGRANGES; INTERSPERSED AMONGST WHICH ARE THE SCANDALOUS DOINGS
AT THE CHÂTEAU DURING THAT MONTH; ALL BEING SET DOWN IN THE FORM OF A
JOURNAL.
(DRAFT)

    Begin by giving a full description of the new situation which exists in
February; there has been a radical change in the appearance of things. The
four original wives have been repudiated, but the Bishop has extended his
protection to Julie, whom he keeps near him as a kind of servant to wait
upon him; Duclos has been allowed to share her quarters with Constance,
whose fruit Messieurs are eager to keep from spoiling; Aline and Adelaide
have been driven out of house and home and now sleep amongst animals
intended for their Lordships' table. The sultanas Augustine, Zelmire,
Fanny, and Sophie have replaced the wives and now fulfill all their
functions, to wit: as wipers in the chapel, as waitresses at the meals, as
couch companions, as Messieurs' bed companions at night. Apart from the
fucker, who changes from day to day, Messieurs have:
    The Duc: Augustine, Zephyr, and Duclos in his bed, together with his
fucker; he sleeps surrounded by the four of them, and Marie occupies a sofa
in his bedchamber;
    Curval: the President likewise sleeps amidst Adonis, Zelmire, a fucker,
and Fanchon; his room is otherwise empty;
    Durcet sleeps amidst Hyacinthe, Fanny, a fucker, and Martaine (check
the foregoing), and he has Louison lie upon a neighboring divan.
    The Bishop sleeps amidst Celadon, Sophie, a fucker, and Julie; Therèse
sleeps upon the divan.
    Which reveals that each of the little menages, Zephyr and Augustine,
Adonis and Zelmire, Hyacinthe and Fanny, Celadon and Sophie, all of whom
are married, belong, husband and wife, to a single master. Only four little
girls remain in the girls' harem, and four in the boys'. Champville sleeps
in the girls' quarters, Desgranges in the boys' quarters. Aline is in the
stable, as we pointed out, and Constance is in Duclos' room, but alone
there since Duclos spends every night in the Duc's bed.
    Dinner is always served by the four sultanas (by, that is to say, the
four new wives), and supper by the remaining four sultanas; a quatrain
always serves coffee; but the quatrains formerly allocated to each niche in
the auditorium are now reduced in number to one boy and one girl.
    The reader will recall our mention of the pillars in the auditorium; at
the beginning of each seance, Aline is attached to one of them, Adelaide to
the other, their buttocks facing out toward the alcoves, and near each
pillar is a little table covered with assorted punitive instruments; and so
it is the two women are at all times ready to receive the lash. Constance
has permission to sit with the storytellers. Each duenna keeps close to her
couple, and Julie, completely unclothed, wanders from couch to couch,
taking orders and executing them upon the spot. As always, one fucker per
couch.
    Such is the situation when Desgranges begins her narrations. The
friends have also ruled, in a special decree, that, during this month,
Aline, Adelaide, Augustine, and Zelmire shall be surrendered to Messieurs'
brutal passions, and that Messieurs are at liberty, upon the described day,
either to immolate them privately or to invite whichever of their friends
they please to witness the sacrifice; and that with what regards Constance,
she shall be employed for the celebration of the final week, a full
explanation of which shall be given in due time and place. Should the Duc
and Curval, who by this arrangement are to be made widowers, be disposed to
take another wife to care for their needs until the end of the holiday,
they shall be able to do so by making a selection from amongst the four
remaining sultanas. But the pillars will remain ungarnished when the two
women who garnish them now shall have been bidden a last farewell.
    Desgranges starts, and after having reminded her auditors that
henceforth the tales shall be those of an exclusively murderous character,
she says that she will be careful, as their Lordships have enjoined her to
be, to enter into the most minute details, and above all to indicate with
what ordinary caprices these libertine assassins preface their more serious
exercises; thus, their Lordships will be able to perceive and judge their
relationships and associations, and to see how an example of simple
libertinage, rectified and elaborated by an unmannerly and unprincipled
individual, may lead straight to murder, and to what kind of murder. Then
she begins.
    THE 1ST OF FEBRUARY. 1. He used to enjoy amusing himself with a
beggarwoman who had not had a bit to eat in three days, and his second
passion is to leave a woman to die of hunger in a dungeon; he keeps a close
watch upon her and frigs himself while examining her, but does not
discharge until the day she perishes.
    2. He maintains her in her prison cell, toying with her for a long
season, gradually diminishing her daily portion of food; beforehand, he has
her shit, and eats her turd upon a platter.
    3. He formerly liked to suck the mouth and swallow its saliva; in
recent days he has developed the passion of immuring a woman in a dungeon
with food to last no more than a fortnight; on the thirtieth day, he enters
her prison and frigs himself upon the corpse.
    4. First, he would have her kiss, then he would slowly destroy her by
preventing her from drinking although feeding her all she wanted to eat.
    5. He would flog, then later kill the woman by depriving her of sleep.
    That same evening, Michette, after having eaten a big supper, is hung
head downward until she has vomited everything upon Curval, who stands
frigging himself beneath her and eating the manna that descends from on
high.
    THE 2ND. 6. His first passion was to have her shit into his mouth, and
he would eat it as it emerged; nowadays he feeds her a diet of worthless
bread and cheap wine. A month on this fare and she starves to death.
    7. He was once a great cunt-fucker; now he gives the woman a venereal
distemper by injection, but of such virulence she croaks in very short
order.
    8. As a youth, he was fond of receiving vomit in his mouth, now, by
means of a certain decoction, he gives her a deathly fever which results in
her speedy demise.
    9. He was once wont to gather shit from assholes, presently injects an
enema containing toxic ingredients dissolved in boiling water or aqua
fortis.
    10. Once a famous fustigator, today he binds a woman to a pivot upon
which she uninterruptedly revolves until dead.
    That evening, an enema of boiling water is given to Rosette the moment
after the Duc has finished embuggering her.
    THE 3RD. 11. He used to like to slap the whore's face; as a mature man,
he twists her head around until it faces backward. When so adjusted, one
may simultaneously look at her face and at her buttocks.
    12. Addicted to bestiality as a youngster, he now likes to have a girl
depucelated by a stallion while he looks on. She ordinarily dies.
    13. Once an ass-fucker, he now buries the girl up to her waist and
maintains her thus till the lower half of her body rots.
    14. Previously, he was wont to frig her clitoris, and he still does so,
but more vigorously, employing one of his servants to keep at the work
until the girl expires.
    15. Gradually perfecting his passion over the years, a fustigator now
flogs every part of a woman's body until she perishes.
    That evening, the Duc would have Augustine, endowed with an unusually
sensitive clitoris, frigged thereupon by Duclos and Champville, who relieve
each other at the post and continue the task until the little lady falls
unconscious.
    THE 4TH. 16. His earlier passion was to squeeze the whore's neck, in
later years he would tie the girl by the neck. Before her sits a sumptuous
meal, but to reach it she must strangle; otherwise she dies of hunger.
    17. The same man who slew Duclos' sister and whose taste is to subject
the flesh to a prolonged mauling, abuses the breasts and buttocks with such
furious violence that his treatment of the whore proves fatal to her.
    18. The man Martaine mentioned on the 20th of January, he who formerly
adored bleeding women, now kills them by dint of repeated bloodlettings.
    19. He whose passion in times past was to make a naked woman run until
she dropped from exhaustion, in this age of unbridled libertinage shuts her
up in a steaming bathhouse where she dies of asphyxiation.
    20. He whom Duclos cited earlier, the gentleman who liked to be wrapped
in swaddling clothes and fed whoreshit in a spoon rather than pap, swathes
a girl so tightly in baby's blankets that he kills her.
    Shortly before the company moved into the auditorium that afternoon,
Curval was found embuggering one of the scullery maids. He pays the fine;
the girl is ordered to reappear at the evening's orgies, where the Duc and
the Bishop embugger her in their turn, and she receives two hundred lashes
from the hand of each of them. She's a strapping country girl, twenty-five,
in satisfactory health, and has a fine ass.
    THE 5TH. 21. His first passion is for bestiality, his second is to sew
the girl into an untanned donkey's skin, her head protruding; he feeds and
cares for her until the animal's skin shrinks and crushes her to death.
    22. He of whom Martaine spoke on the 15th of January and who liked to
hang a girl for his amusement, currently amuses himself by hanging her by
her feet until the blood rushing to her head kills her.
    23. Duclos' libertine of the 27th of November who liked to besot his
whore, today inserts a funnel into her mouth and floods her with liquids
till she dies therefrom.
    24. Once he was wont to mistreat nipples, but has progressed since then
and now buckles a sort of small iron pot over each breast and lowers her
over a stove; the iron heats, and she is allowed to perish thus in
frightful pain.
    25. His whole delight used to consist in watching a woman swim, but he
now casts her into a pond and fishes her out half-drowned, then hangs her
by the feet to encourage the water to drain out of her. Once she has
returned to her senses, into the pond she goes again, and so on and so
forth, till she gives up the ghost.
    Upon that day and at the same hour, another kitchen servant is found
being embuggered, this time by the Duc; he pays the fine, the servant is
summoned to the orgies, where everyone cavorts with her, Durcet making good
use of her mouth, the others of her bum, and even of her cunt, for she is a
virgin, and she is condemned to receive two hundred lashes from each of her
employers. She is a girl of eighteen, tall and well made, her hair is
auburn in color, and she owns a very fair ass.
    That same evening, Curval utters the opinion that it is a matter of
extreme urgency that Constance be bled again on account of her pregnancy;
the Duc embuggers her, and Curval bleeds her while Augustine frigs his
prick against Zelmire's buttocks and while someone else fucks Zelmire. Upon
discharging, he executes the puncture; his aim is true.
    THE 6TH. 26. As a young man he used to kick a woman in the ass,
tumbling her into a brazier, whence she would emerge before suffering
excessively. He has lately refined this stunt, now obliges a girl to stand
upright between two blazing fires: one cooks her in front, the other
behind; and there she remains until the fat on her body melts.
    Desgranges announces that she is going to describe murders which,
bringing on a prompt death, cause very little suffering.
    27. In former times he would impede respiration by constricting the
neck with his hands or by blocking the nose and mouth, but these days he
deposits the whore between four mattresses and she suffocates.
    28. He of whom Martaine said a few words and who used to allow his
victim a choice from among three manners of dying (see the 14th of January)
has of late begun to blow out the whore's brains, denying her any say in
the matter; he embuggers, and upon discharging, pulls the trigger.
    29. The man Champville referred to on the 22nd of December as the
libertine who made the girl dance with the cat, presently flings the whore
from the top of a tower. She lands on sharp gravel. He discharges upon
hearing her land.
    30. That gentleman who liked to throttle his partner while embuggering
her, and whom Martaine described on the 6th of January, has advanced to the
stage at which, as he embuggers her, he slips a black silk cord about her
neck and strangles her while discharging; this delight, says Desgranges, is
one of the most exquisite a libertine can procure himself.
    Upon that day, Messieurs celebrate the festival of the fourteenth week,
and, in the guise of a woman, Curval becomes Bum-Cleaver's wife, and, as a
man, takes Adonis to be his helpmeet; 'tis not till then that child is
depucelated, and the event occurs very publicly, while Bum-Cleaver is
fucking the President.
    Messieurs besot themselves at supper. And they flog Zelmire and
Augustine about the loins, the buttocks, the thighs, the belly, the cunt,
and the groin, then Curval has Zelmire fucked by Adonis, his new wife, and
embuggers both of them one after the other.
    THE 7TH. 31. He once liked to fuck a drowsy woman; he does much better
now: he kills her with a strong dose of opium and encunts her during her
death-sleep.
    32. The same roue she referred to very recently, and who subjects the
whore to a series of duckings, has still another passion: tying a stone to
her neck, he drowns the woman.
    33. Whereas once he was content to slap her face, now he carries
matters further: he pours molten lead into her ear while she is asleep.
    34. He was fond of whipping her face; Champville spoke of him on the
30th of December (verify that); but now he dispatches the girl with a quick
hammer blow upon the temple.
    35. This libertine would previously allow a candle to burn out in a
woman's anus; today, he attaches her to a lightning rod during a
thunderstorm and awaits a fortuitous stroke.
    36. A sometime fustigator. He has her bend over with her behind facing
the muzzle of a small piece of artillery. The ball enters her ass.
    That day 'tis the Bishop they discover with his prick lodged in the
third kitchen servant's asshole. He pays the fine, the Duc and Curval
embugger and cunt-fuck her, for she is also a virgin, then she is given a
total of eight hundred stripes, two hundred by each friend. She is Swiss,
nineteen, very fair of skin, very plump, and has a splendid ass. The cooks
complain and say that the service will not be able to continue any longer
if Messieurs go on fussing about with the help, and the society agrees to a
truce extending until March.
    Rosette loses a finger that evening, and the wound is cauterized with
fire. She is sandwiched between Curval and the Duc during the operation:
one fucks her ass, the other her cunt. Adonis' ass is made generally
available that same evening; and so it is that the Duc cunt-fucks one
servant and Rosette at the orgies and ass-fucks the same servant, ass-fucks
Rosette too, and Adonis. He is tired.
    THE 8TH. 37. His whole delight once lay in beating a woman's entire
body with a bull's pizzle; 'twas to him Martaine alluded as the man who
strained all four of his victim's limbs on the rack and broke but one of
them. He likes now thoroughly to break the woman on the wheel, but he
chokes her to death when he has finished exercising her.
    38. Martaine's gentleman who would feign a decapitation and have the
woman snatched from beneath the blade at the last moment, now severs her
head in all good faith. He discharges as the blow falls. He frigs himself.
    39. Martaine's libertine of the 30th of January who was wont to perform
an extensive scarification, now consigns his victims to perish in dungeons.
    40. He used to be a whipper of pregnant women's bellies, has latterly
perfected that by causing an enormous weight to fall on the pregnant
woman's belly, thereby crushing her and her fruit at one stroke.
    41. Formerly, he was known to be fond of the sight of a girl's bare
neck, which he would squeeze and molest somewhat; that mild passion has
been replaced by the insertion of a pin in a certain spot upon the woman's
neck. The pin kills her at once.
    42. At the beginning he would gently burn various parts of the body
with a candle flame, more recently he has begun to hurl women into a
glowing furnace where they are consumed instantly.
    Durcet, his prick very stiff and who during the storytelling has
ventured forth twice to flog Adelaide awaiting him at her pillar, proposes
to lay her lengthwise in the fire, and after she has had sufficient time to
quake over an idea Messieurs would be nothing loath to put into execution,
they burn her nipples for the sake of their convenience; Durcet, her
husband, burns one, her father, Curval, burns the other. This exciting
operation causes both to discharge.
    THE 9TH. 43. In his young years a pin-pricker, he has got himself a
more formidable weapon: discharges while thrice driving a dagger into the
woman's heart.
    44. He used to adore burning gunpowder in the cunt, but has since
improved his passion: he attaches a slender but attractive girl to a large
rocket, the fuse is ignited, the rocket ascends, then returns to earth with
the girl still attached.
    45. The same personage who put gunpowder in all the orifices of a
woman's body, now wedges cartridges into them; they explode simultaneously,
sending the members flying in every direction.
    46. First passion: he enjoyed secreting an emetic in the girl's food,
unbeknownst to her; his second passion: he mixes a certain powder with her
snuff, or sprinkles it on some flowers, she inhales and straightway falls
dead.
    47. First passion: he would flog her breasts and neck; refinement
thereof: he aims a blow of a crowbar at her throat, it fells her forever.
    48. Duclos spoke of him on the 27th of November, Martaine on the 14th
of January (verify the dates): the whore enters and shits before the rake,
he scolds her; brandishing a whip, he pursues her, she thinks to take
refuge in a loft. A door opens, she spies a little stairway, believes she
will be safe, rushes up the steps, but one of them gives way and she
plunges into a large vat of boiling water; she dies, scalded, drowned,
asphyxiated. His tastes are previously to have the woman shit and to lash
her while she is doing so.
    Curval had solicited and obtained shit from Zelmire that morning; now,
directly the aforementioned tale is concluded, the Duc demands further shit
from her. She cannot produce any; she is promptly condemned to have her ass
pricked with a golden needle until it is covered with blood; in that it is
the Duc whose interests have suffered as a result of her refusal, he is the
one who recovers damages.
    Curval requests shit of Zephyr; the latter replies, saying that the Duc
had him shit that morning. This the Duc denies, Duclos is called to give
evidence, she supports Blangis' contention even though it is false.
Consequently, Curval has the right to punish Zephyr, despite the fact he is
the Duc's bardash, just as the Duc has punished Zelmire, who is Curval's
wife. The President flogs Zephyr until the lad streams blood, then tweaks
his nose six times; the tweaks fetch forth more blood, and that makes the
Duc roar with laughter.
    THE 10TH. Desgranges says that she is now going to discuss murders of
imposture and duplicity in which the manner is of principal significance;
that is to say, the murder itself is merely incidental. Wherewith, says
she, poisonings will be presented first.
    49. A man whose caprice consisted in bum-fuckery and in no other kind,
now envenoms all his wives; he is presently on his twenty-second. Never
does he fuck them save in the ass, nor have they ever been deflowered
otherwise.
    50. A bugger invites a number of friends to a banquet, and with each
succeeding course a few of them are stricken with stomach cramps which
prove fatal.
    51. Duclos spoke of him on the 26th of November, Martaine on the 10th
of January; he is a bugger, pretends that it is relief he is giving the
poor, distributes food, but 'tis poisoned.
    52. A treacherous bugger regularly employs a drug which, sprinkled on
the ground, very wonderfully kills whosoever walks thereupon; he sprinkles
it about rather frequently, and over wide areas.
    53. A bugger, equally skilled in alchemy, uses another substance which
causes death after inconceivable torture; the death throes last a good two
weeks, and no doctor has ever been able to diagnose or treat the ailment.
He takes the keenest pleasure in paying you a visit while you are in the
toils.
    54. A sodomizer of men and women makes use of yet another powder which
deprives you of your senses and renders you as if dead. And such you are
believed to be, you are buried, and full of despair, you die in your
coffin, into which you have no sooner been placed than you regain
consciousness. He endeavors to find the exact place you have been buried,
to place an ear to the ground and listen for a few screams; if indeed he
hears your cries, 'tis enough to make him swoon with pleasure. He thuswise
slew part of his family.
    While joking and making merry that evening, Messieurs give Julie a
powder concealed in her food, which causes her frightful cramps; they
advise her that she is poisoned, she believes it, she wails, is beside
herself. While watching her convulsions, the Duc has Augustine frig him
directly opposite Julie. Augustine has the great misfortune of allowing the
repuce to slip back over the Duc's glans, and that is something which
displeases the Duc extremely: he was just about to discharge, the girl's
carelessness prevents it. He declares he is going to cut off one of that
buggress' fingers and, as good as his word, does so, slicing a digit from
the hand that failed him, and while cutting, he has his daughter Julie,
still persuaded she is poisoned, crawl up to him and complete his
discharge. Julie is cured that same evening.
    THE 11TH. 55. A consummate bugger would frequently dine at the home of
friends or acquaintances and would never fail to poison the individual his
host cherished most dearly amongst all living creatures. He employed a
powder which finally slew after causing two days of atrocious agony.
    56. An erstwhile breast-abuser has perfected his passion: he poisons
infants being suckled by their nurses.
    57. He once used to love to receive back into his mouth milk enemas he
had injected into his partner's rectum; his later passion: he administers
toxic injections which kill while causing horrible spasms and colics.
    58. A crafty bugger of whom she will have occasion to say more on the
13th and the 26th, used to love to set fire to poorhouses, and would always
see to it that a quantity of persons were consumed, above all children.
    59. Another bugger liked to cause women to die in childbirth; he would
come to pay his respects, bringing along a powder whose odor would cause
spasms and convulsions ending in death.
    60. The man to whom Duclos referred during her twenty-eighth evening
enjoys watching a woman bear a child; he murders it immediately it emerges
from the womb and within full view of the mother, and does so while
feigning to caress it.
    That evening, Adelaide is first dealt a hundred lashes by each friend,
and then, when she is well bloodied, shit is demanded of her; she gave some
that morning to Curval, who swears 'tis not so. Consequently, they burn her
two breasts, the palm of each hand, spill drops of molten sealing wax upon
her thighs and belly, fill her navel therewith, burn her pubic hair after
having doused it with cognac. The Duc attempts to pick a quarrel with
Zelmire, and the President severs a finger from each of her hands.
Augustine is scourged about the cunt and asshole.
    THE 12TH. Messieurs assemble in the morning and decide that the four
governesses, who are no longer of much use to the society and whose
functions the four storytellers shall henceforth be perfectly able to carry
out, may just as well provide the society with a little amusement;
Messieurs therefore decree that the elders shall be martyrized one after
another, the first sacrifice being scheduled for the evening of that same
day. The four storytellers are invited to replace the elders; they accept
upon condition they shall suffer no ill-treatment. Messieurs promise to
subject them to none.
    61. The three friends, d'Aucourt, the abbot, and Desprès, of whom
Duclos spoke on the 12th of November, are now living abroad and still
enjoying each other's company, and this is one of their common passions:
they require a woman whose pregnancy is in its eighth or begun its ninth
month, they open her belly, snatch out the child, burn it before the
mother's eyes, and in its place substitute a package containing sulphur and
quicksilver, which they set afire, then stitch the belly up again, leaving
the mother thus to perish in the midst of incredible agonies, while they
look on and have themselves frigged by the girl they have with them.
(Verify the girl's name.)
    62. He was fond of depucelating, has gradually broadened his scope of
activity: he has a great number of children by several women, then, when
they reach the age of five or six, he depucelates them, boys and girls
alike, and directly he has fucked them, throws them into a blazing oven. Or
he sometimes throws them in at the same moment he discharges.
    63. The man Duclos mentioned on the 27th of November, Martaine on the
15th of January, and she herself on the 5th of February, whose taste was to
play at hanging, to see hanged, etc., this same fellow, I say, hides some
of his personal effects in his domestics' wardrobes and declares he has
been robbed. He strives to have his servants hanged, and if he succeeds
goes to watch the spectacle; if not, he locks them in a room and strangles
them to death. While operating, he discharges.
    64. An inveterate shit-lover, he of whom Duclos spoke on the 14th of
November, has a specially prepared commode at his home; he engages his
intended victim to sit down upon it, and once the victim is seated, the
seat buckles, gives way, and precipitates the sitter into a very deep ditch
filled with shit, in which evironment she is left to die.
    65. A man to whom Martaine made reference and who would amuse himself
watching a girl fall from a ladder, has perfected his passion thus (but
find out which man) :
    He situates the girl upon a little trestle on the edge of a deep ditch
filled with water; on the farther side of it is a wall which seems to be
all the more inviting, what for the ladder leaning against it. But to reach
the ladder she must cross the moat, and she becomes all the more willing to
spring into the water as the fire burning behind the trestle moves
gradually closer to her. If she hesitates too long, the fire will reach
her, consume her, and as she does not know how to swim, she will be drowned
if she plunges into the water. While she is considering what to do, the
fire approaches, and she finally elects to struggle with a different
element and endeavor to get to the wall. It frequently happens that she
drowns; if so, the game is over. But if by good fortune she reaches the
other bank and then the ladder, and starts to climb it, toward the top
there is a rung which breaks beneath her weight and she drops into a hole
covered over with a thin layer of earth, and the hole contains a bed of
live coals upon which she perishes. Hard by the scene, the libertine
observes it with the keenest interest, frigging himself industriously.
    66. The same man Duclos spoke of on the 29th of November, the same who
bumwise depucelated Martaine when a little girl of five, and also the same
with whom Desgranges announces she will conclude her narrations (the hell
episode), this individual, I say, embuggers the prettiest girl of sixteen
or eighteen the procuress can find for him. Sensing his crisis about to
arrive, he releases a spring, upon the bare and completely unadorned neck
of the girl descends a machine furnished with steel teeth; the machine
begins to move laterally and gradually saws through the pinioned neck while
the libertine occupies himself with completing his discharge. Which always
takes a very long time.
    That very evening Messieurs discover the intrigue involving Augustine
and one of the subaltern fuckers; he has not yet fucked her, but to attain
his ends has suggested that they both escape from the castle, and he has
outlined to her a very easy way to do so. Augustine confesses that she was
about to grant him what he sought from her in order to save herself from a
place where she believes her life to be in danger. 'Tis Fanchon who
discovers and reports everything. The traitorous quadrumvirate leap upon
the fucker without warning, bind him hand and foot, and take him down to
the cellars, where the Duc embuggers him with extreme vigor and without
pomade, while the President saws through his neck and the other two apply
red-hot irons to all parts of his body.
    This scene transpires directly after dinner is over and hence coffee is
omitted that day; the work completed, everyone repairs to the auditorium as
usual, then to supper, and amongst themselves Messieurs debate whether, in
return for having disclosed the conspiracy, they ought not accord Fanchon a
reprieve, for their decision that morning was to maltreat her the same
evening. The Bishop declares himself against sparing her, and says that it
would be unworthy of them to yield to the sentiment of gratitude, and that,
for his part, he will always be seen to favor any decision likely to afford
the society one pleasure more, just as he will always vote against any
motion apt to deprive it of a pleasure. And so, after having punished
Augustine for lending herself to the subversive scheme, first by obliging
her to watch her lover's execution, then by embuggering her and making her
believe her head would be cut off as well, next by actually pulling out two
of her teeth, an operation performed by the Duc while Curval was
embuggering that beautiful girl, finally by giving her a sound whipping,
after all that, I say, Fanchon is led into the arena, made to shit, given a
hundred lashes by each of the friends, and then the Duc deftly shaves off
her left nipple. She raises a storm, criticizing their behavior toward her
and describing it as unjust. "Were it just," says the Duc, wiping his
razor, "it would surely fail to give us an erection." Whereupon they dress
the old whore's wounds, eager to preserve her for further ordeals.
    Their Lordships perceive that indeed there had been faint but definite
rebellious stirrings amongst the subaltern fuckers; the prompt sacrifice of
one of them has, however, thoroughly quelled their murmurs. Like Fanchon,
the three other duennas are divested of all responsibility, removed from
office, and replaced by the four storytellers and Julie. They tremble, do
the old dames; but by what shifts are they to escape their fate?
    THE 13TH. 67. A great connoisseur of the ass, he declares his love for
a girl and, having arranged a boating party, lures her upon the water in a
small boat, the which has been prepared for the outing, springs a leak,
founders; the girl is drowned. He sometimes pursues his objective by
different means: will, for example, lead a girl out upon a high balcony,
have her lean upon the railing, which gives way; and once again the girl
dies.
    68. A man, while making his apprenticeship in life, was content first
to whip and then to embugger; now, having reached a mature age, entices the
girl to enter a specially prepared room; a trap door yields beneath her
step, she falls into a cellar where the rake awaits her; he plunges a knife
into her breasts, her cunt, and into her asshole as she lies stunned by her
fall. Next, he casts her, dead or still alive, into another cellar, over
which a stone drops into place; she tumbles upon a heap of other corpses,
and she expires in a great fit if life has not already departed her sore-
beset frame. And he is very careful to administer delicate stabs, for he
would prefer that she live a little and finally perish in the cellar
mentioned latterly. Prior to all this, he of course embuggers and flogs her
and discharges; 'tis coolly and with utmost method he proceeds to her
undoing.
    69. A bugger has the girl mount astride an untamed, unbroken horse
which unseats her, drags her along a rocky terrain, and finally pitches her
over a precipice.
    70. Martaine's hero of the 18th of January whose juvenile passion was
to distribute little mounds of gunpowder upon the girl's body, has made
significant progress. He lays the girl in a special bed; when properly
tucked in, the bed gives way, dropping her into a large brazier of live
coals, but she is able to scramble out of it; however, he is standing by
and, as she repeats her attempts to escape the fire, he drives her back,
wielding a pitchfork and with it aiming stout blows at her belly.
    71. The gentleman she mentioned on the 11th, who likes to burn down
poorhouses, endeavors to lure a beggar, whether a man or a woman, from out
of one and into his own home, upon the pretense of bestowing charity; he
embuggers his victim, then breaks his back and leaves him thus discomfited
to die in a dungeon.
    72. He who was wont to defenestrate a woman, hurling her upon a dung
heap, the same man of whom Martaine spoke, by way of second passion
executes the following one: he allows the girl to sleep in a room she is
acquainted with and whose window she knows to be not far above the ground;
she is given opium, when in a deep slumber she is conveyed to another
chamber, identical with the first but having a window high above the ground
which, on this side of the house, is strewn with sharp rocks. Next, the
libertine enters where she lies sleeping, makes a dreadful noise, terrifies
her; she is informed that she is about to die. Knowing the drop from the
window to the ground to be short, she leaps through it, but falls thirty
feet and lands upon the murderous rocks, killing herself. No one has so
much as laid a finger upon her.
    In the character of a woman, that great histrionic, the Bishop, marries
Antinoüs, whose role is that of a husband, and also weds Celadon, whom he
takes to be his wife, and 'tis that evening the child is embuggered for the
first time.
    This ceremony celebrates the festival of the fifteenth week; to
complete the holiday, the prelate wishes to expose Aline to some severe
vexations, for his libertine rage against her has been quietly but steadily
mounting: she is hanged, then quickly cut down, but while seeing her
however briefly aloft, everyone discharges. Durcet opens her veins, this
treatment restores her to life; the next day she appears none the worse for
wear, but suspension has added an inch to her height; she relates what she
experienced during the ordeal. The Bishop, for whom everything is an
occasion of jollity and everyone the object of game that day, cuts one of
old Louison's nipples clean off her breast; whereupon the other two duennas
see very clearly what their fate is to be.
    THE 14TH. 73. A man whose simple taste was to flog a girl, perfects it
by every day removing morsels of flesh the size of a pea from the girl's
body, but her wounds are not dressed, and thus she perishes over a low
fire, as it were.
    Desgranges announces that she will now deal with exceedingly painful
murders wherein 'tis the extreme cruelty which comprises the main element;
Messieurs more strongly than ever urge her to furnish abundant details.
    74. He who was fond of letting blood daily relieves his victim of a
half ounce of it, continuing till she is dead. Messieurs greet this example
with hearty applause.
    75. He who was wont to prick the ass with many pins every day
administers a more or less superficial gash with a poignard. The blood is
stanched, but the wound is not treated, neither does it mend, and thus 'tis
a slow death she dies. A fustigator (75) quietly and slowly saws off all
four limbs, one after the other.
    76. The Marquis de Mesanges, of whom Duclos spoke in connection with
the shoemaker Petignon's daughter, bought by the Marquis from Duclos, and
whose first passion was to undergo four hours of flogging without
discharging, for a second passion places a little girl in the hands of a
giant fellow who holds the child by the head over a large charcoal brazier
which burns her very slowly; the victims must be virgins.
    77. His first passion: little by little to burn the breasts and
buttocks with the flame of a match; his second: over every part of the
girl's body to plant a forest of sulphur-coated slivers, which he lights
one by one. He watches her die in this way.
    "Nor is there anymore painful way to die," observes the Duc, who then
confesses to having surrendered himself to this infamous pastime, and to
having discharged vigorously thanks to it. They say that the patient lives
six hours, sometimes eight.
    Celadon's ass is made generally available that evening; the Duc and
Curval indulge themselves heavily. Constance's pregnancy is still on the
President's mind; he suggests that she be bled, and bleeds her himself
while discharging in Celadon's ass, then he lops off one of Therèse's
nipples while embuggering Zelmire, and the Duc sodomizes the duenna during
the amputation.
    THE 15TH. 78. Once beguiled by the charms of a mouth to suck and saliva
to swallow, he is now of sterner stuff: every day he inserts a funnel into
the girl's mouth and pours a small dose of molten lead down her throat; she
gives up the ghost on the ninth day.
    79. First a finger-twister, he currently breaks all her limbs, tears
out her tongue, gouges out her eyes, and leaves her thus to live,
diminishing her sustenance day by day.
    80. A perpetrator of sacrilege, the second one Martaine mentioned on
the 3rd of January, he secures a beautiful youth to a tall cross, binding
him with cords and leaving him there as food for ravens.
    81. An armpit-sniffer and -fucker, to whom Duclos alluded, binds a
woman hand and foot and hangs her by a rope looped under her arms; he goes
every day to prick some part of her body so that the blood will attract
flies; her death is by slow degrees.
    82. A passionate admirer of asses rectifies his worship: he now seals a
girl in an underground cave where she has food to last three days; before
leaving her, he inflicts several wounds upon her body, thuswise to render
her death more painful. He wishes to have them virgins and spends a week
embracing their asses before organizing their destruction.
    83. Formerly he loved to fuck very youthful mouths and asses; his later
improvement consists in snatching out the heart of a living girl, widening
the space that organ occupied, fucking the warm hole, replacing the heart
in that pool of blood and fuck, sewing up the wound, and leaving the girl
to her fate, without help of any kind. In which case the wait is not long.
    Still wroth with the lovely Constance, Curval maintains that there is
no reason under the sun why one cannot successfully bear a child even
though one has a broken limb, and therefore they fracture that unlucky
creature's arm the same evening. Durcet slices off one of Marie's nipples
after she has been well warmed by the lash and made copiously to shit.
    THE 16TH. 84. A fustigator refines his passion: he learns and then
practices the art of gently removing flesh from bones; he then extracts the
marrow, usually by sucking it out, and pours molten lead into the cavity.
    At this point the Duc loudly exclaims that he'll not fuck another ass
while he lives if that isn't the very ordeal he has had in mind for his
beloved Augustine; that poor girl, whom Blangis has been embuggering for
some time, utters cries and sheds a torrent of tears. And as thanks to her
misbehavior she interferes with his discharge and frustrates it
effectively, he withdraws, takes hold of his engine in one hand, and while
with the other he gives her a dozen slaps which resound through that wing
of the castle, he manages his discharge very satisfactorily by himself.
    85. A bugger uses an ingenious machine to chop the girl into small
pieces: this is a Chinese torture.
    86. Weary of his early fondness for girls' pucelages, his latest
passion is to impale a girl upon the point of a sharp pickaxe introduced
into her cunt; there she sits, as if upon a horse, he ties a cannon ball to
each of her legs, the pick works deeper, and she is left to her own devices
and a slow death.
    87. A fustigator flays the girl thrice over; he soaks her fourth layer
of skin with a devouring escharotic which brings about death accompanied by
hideous agonies.
    88. His first passion was to sever a finger; his second is to pluck up
some flesh with a pair of red-hot tongs, to cut off the flesh with a pair
of scissors, then to burn the wound. He is quite apt to spend as long as
four or five days whittling away a girl's body piecemeal, and she
ordinarily dies while the cruel operation is still advancing.
    Sophie and Celadon have been found amusing themselves together and are
punished that evening; both are whipped over their entire bodies by the
Bishop, whose chattels they are. Sophie loses two fingers to the shears,
Celadon as many; but he recovers very quickly. The Bishop is no less eager
to use them in his pleasures, however they be maimed.
    Fanchon returns to the center of the stage. After having been beaten
with a bull's pizzle, the soles of her feet are burned, each thigh, before
and behind, is burned also, her forehead too, and each hand as well, and
Messieurs extract all her remaining teeth. The Duc's prick is almost
continually wedged into her ass throughout this lengthy operation.
    Mention that it has been prescribed by law that a subject's buttocks
shall be left intact until the day the said subject reaches the end of his
career.
    THE 17TH. 89. Martaine's gentleman of the 30th of January and the same
one she herself described on the 5th of February, pares away a girl's
breasts and buttocks, eats them, and upon her wounds puts plasters which so
violently burn the flesh that they are her undoing. He also forces her to
eat her own flesh, which he has had grilled.
    90. A bugger cooks up a little girl in a double boiler.
    91. A bugger: he has her roasted alive on a spit directly after
embuggering her.
    92. A man whose initial passion was to have little girls and boys
embuggered in his presence by massive and ponderous pricks, impales the
girl, a spear in her ass, and leaves her thus to die while he studies her
contortions.
    93. Another bugger: attaches a woman to a wheel, it is then set in
motion and, without having done her any previous harm, he allows her to die
a very pretty death.
    That evening, the Bishop, his spirits in a great ferment, wishes to
have Aline tormented, his rage against her has reached its fever pitch. She
makes her appearance naked, he has her shit and embuggers her, then,
without discharging, he withdraws in a towering fury from that enchanting
ass and injects a rinse of boiling water into it, obliging her to squirt it
out at once, while it is still boiling hot, upon Therèse's face. After
that, Messieurs hack off all the fingers and toes Aline has left, break
both her arms and burn them with red-hot pokers. She is next flogged,
beaten, and slapped, then the Bishop, still further aroused, cuts off one
of her nipples, and discharges.
    Wherewith they transfer their attentions to Therèse, the interior of
her vagina is seared, her nostrils, tongue, feet, and hands are all burned
too; then she is given six hundred lashes with a bull's pizzle. Out come
the rest of her teeth, fire is introduced into her throat. A witness to
these harsh proceedings, Augustine falls to weeping; the Duc lashes her
belly and cunt until he has drawn a suitable amount of blood therefrom.
    THE 18TH. 94. A flesh-sacrifier in his early days, his adult
entertainment consists in quartering girls by bending four saplings,
attaching an arm or leg to each, and releasing the trees, which spring back
erect.
    95. A fustigator suspends her from a machine which lowers a girl into
and immediately lifts her out of a fire, then repeats the operation until
there is very little left of the patient.
    96. He once loved to extinguish candles by snuffing them out upon
flesh; today, he envelopes her in sulphur and uses her for a torch, being
careful to prevent the fumes for choking her.
    97. A sodomist: rips the intestines from a young boy and a young girl,
puts the boy's into the girl, inserts the girl's into the boy's body,
stitches up the incisions, ties them back to back to a pillar which
supports them both, and he watches them perish.
    98. A man who was fond of inflicting light burns, improves his passion:
he now roasts his victim upon a grill, turning him over and over again.
    Michette is, that evening, exposed to the libertines' fury; all four
begin by whipping her, then each tears out one of her teeth, they cut off
four fingers (each friend amputates one), her thighs are burned in four
places, two in front and two behind, the Duc manhandles one of her breasts
until it is truly unrecognizable, sodomizing Giton in the meantime.
    Louison is next on the bill of fare; she is made to shit, she is given
eight hundred strokes with the bull's pizzle, she is divested of all her
teeth, her tongue is burned, as is her asshole, her vagina, and her
remaining nipple, and so are six places upon her thighs.
    When everyone has retired to bed for the night, the Bishop goes in
search of his brother, they wake Desgranges and Duclos, and the four of
them take Aline down into the cellars; the Bishop embuggers her, the Duc
embuggers her, they pronounce the death sentence, and by means of excessive
torments which last until daybreak, they execute it. Upon returning, they
exchange words of unqualified praise for these two storytellers and advise
their colleagues to undertake no serious projects without their help.
    THE 19TH. 99. He places the woman so that the base of her spine bears
upon the sharpened head of a tall post, her four limbs are held in the air
only by light cords; the effects of her suffering make the lecher laugh
incontinently, the torture is frightful.
    100. A man who used to enjoy cutting small steaks from the girl's rump
has become absolutely a butcher: he has the girl sandwiched between two
heavy planks, then slowly and carefully sawed in two.
    101. An embuggerer of both sexes has brother and sister fetched in; he
declares to the brother that he is about to die a horrible death, and shows
the young man all the deployed tackle he proposes to use; however, the
libertine continues, he will save the brother's life if he will fuck his
sister and strangle her at once. The young man agrees, and while he fucks
his sister, the libertine embuggers now one of them, now the other. Then
the brother, fearing for his life, deprives her sister of hers, and the
moment he completes that operation, both he and his dead sister tumble
through a trap door into a capacious charcoal brazier, wherein the
libertine wathces them be consumed.
    102. A bugger compels a father to fuck his daughter in his presence.
Next, the father holds the daughter, the bugger sodomizes her; after which
he informs the father that the girl absolutely has to perish, but that he
has the alternatives of killing her himself by strangling her, which will
cause her little suffering, or, in that other case, if her prefers not to
kill his daughter, then he, the libertine, will do the work, but the father
shall have to witness it all, and his child's agonies will be atrocious.
    Rather than see her undergo frightful tortures, the father decides to
kill his daughter with a noose of black silk, but while he is preparing to
dispatch her, he is seized, bound, and before his eyes his child is flayed
alive, then rolled upon burning iron nails, then cast into a brazier, and
the father is strangled; this, says the libertine, is to teach him a lesson
not to be so eager to choke the life out of his own children, for 'tis
barbaric. Afterward, he is dumped into the same brazier wherein his
daughter perished.
    103. A great devotee of asses and of the lash brings together mother
and daughter. He tells the girl that he is going to kill her mother if she,
the girl, does not consent to the sacrifice of both her hands; the little
one agrees, they are severed at the wrist. Whereupon these two creatures
are separated; a rope suspended from the ceiling is slipped around the
girl's neck, she stands upon a stool; another cord runs from the stool into
the next room and the mother is requested to hold the end. She is then
invited to tug on the cord: she pulls it without knowing what she is doing,
she is led directly into the first room to contemplate her work, and during
that moment of her keenest distress, she is smitten down by a saber blow
aimed at her head from behind.
    Jealous of the pleasure the two brothers had the night before, Durcet,
that evening, is moved to suggest that they vex Adelaide, whose turn, he
assures the society, is soon to come. And so Curval, her father, and
Durcet, her husband, worry her thighs with white-hot thongs while the Duc's
unlubricated member sounds her ass. The tip of her tongue is pierced, the
ends of both her ears are shorn away, with the aid of instruments Messieurs
dispossess her of four teeth, and then she is given a savage whipping. That
same evening, the Bishop bleeds Sophie while her dearly beloved friend,
Adelaide, watches the blood issue from the child's veins; the fountains are
kept turned on until Sophie loses consciousness; as he bleeds her, the
Bishop embuggers her, remaining in her ass throughout the operation.
    While Curval is sodomizing him, Narcisse loses a pair of fingers, then
Marie is hailed into court, red-hot irons are thrust into her cunt and
asshole, more irons are applied to six places upon her thighs, upon her
clitoris, her tongue, upon her one remaining breast, and out come the
remainder of her teeth.
    THE 20TH. 104. Champville's of the 5th of December, the man who was
wont to have the mother prostitute her son and hold him while he embuggered
the lad, improves his taste by bringing the mother and son together. He
tells the mother that he is about to kill her, but will spare her if she
will murder her son. In case she refuses to do so, he slits the boy's
throat before the woman's eyes. Or if she consents: then she is bound to
her son's dead body and left quietly to meditate and finally to die.
    105. A very incestuous personage assembles two sisters after having
embuggered both of them; he binds them to a machine, each has a knife in
her hand: the machine is set in motion, the girls are brought suddenly
together and mutually kill each other.
    106. Another devotee of incest requires a mother and her four children.
They are locked into a room; he observes them through a small barred
window. He gives them nothing to eat in order to study the effects of
famine upon this woman, and to discover which of her children she will eat
first.
    107. Champville's of the 29th of December, who liked to flog pregnant
women, calls for a mother and daughter, both of whom must be gravid: they
are tied to a pair of steel plates one set above the other; the women face
one another; the machine starts, the jaws of the vise close with great
speed and power, the two women are ground to dust, together with their
fruit.
    108. A very buggerish gentleman entertains himself in the following
manner: he assembles lover and mistress:
    "There is in all the world but one person who stands in the way of your
happiness," says he, taking the lover aside; "I am going to put that
individual in your power."
    And he leads him into an obscurely lit chamber containing a bed; upon
it someone lies asleep. Greatly aroused, the young man takes dagger in hand
and stabs his enemy. When he has had done, he is permitted to recognize his
mistress' dead body: 'twas she he slew; he kills himself in despair, or if
he does not, the libertine kills him with a shot from a rifle, fired at a
distance, not daring to enter the room with the furious young man who still
has a weapon in his hand. Previously, he fucked the youth and his beloved
too, they singly yielded to him in the hope he would help them and bring
them together, it is after having enjoyed them he rids the world of them.
    In celebration of the sixteenth week, Durcet, as a woman, marries
Invictus, who enacts a masculine role; and as a man he takes Hyacinthe to
be his wife; the ceremonies are performed that evening and, by way of
festivity, Durcet wishes to torment Fanny, his feminine wife. Consequently,
her arms are burned, so are her thighs in six separate places, two teeth
are extracted from her mouth, she is flogged; Hyacinthe, who loves her and
who is her husband thanks to the voluptuous arrangements hitherto
described. Hyacinthe, I say, is obliged to shit into Fanny's mouth, and she
to eat the turd.
    The Duc pulls out one of Augustine's teeth and immediately afterward
fucks her in the mouth. Fanchon reappears, she is bled, and while blood
flows from her arm, her arm is broken; next, they remove her toenails and
sever the fingers from both her hands.
    THE 21ST. She announces that the following examples are of buggers who
wish to commit exclusively masculine murders.
    109. He buries the muzzle of a shotgun in the boy's ass, the weapon is
loaded with buckshot and he has just finished fucking the lad. He pulls the
trigger; the gun and his prick discharge simultaneously.
    110. He obliges the lad to watch his mistress being mutilated, and to
eat her flesh, principally her buttocks, breasts, and heart. He has the
option of eating these meats, or of dying of hunger. As soon as he has
devoured them, if 'tis that he elects to do, the libertine inflicts several
deep wounds upon him and leaves him thus to bleed to death; if he abstains
from eating, he then starves to death.
    111. He tears off the youth's testicles and, a short while later,
serves them up to him in a ragout, then, in place of the stolen treasure,
substitutes spheres of quicksilver and fills his voided scrotum with
sulphur a-plenty, which cause such violent suffering that the patient
succumbs. During his agony, the libertine embuggers him and increases the
boy's trouble by burning him here, there and everywhere with sulphur-
impregnated slivers, and by scratching, picking, and further burning these
wounds.
    112. He drives a long spike through the victim's asshole and thus nails
him to a slender pole, and leaves him to sigh away his last hours, or days.
    113. He embuggers, and whilst sodomizing, opens the cranium, removes
the brain, and fills the cavity with molten lead.
    Vigorously fustigated beforehand, Hyacinthe's ass is made generally
available that evening. Narcisse is presented to the assembly: off come his
balls with a snip of the scissors. Adelaide is summoned forth, a red-hot
fire shovel is brushed over the rear of her thighs, they burn her clitoris,
pierce her tongue, lash her breasts with cruel instruments, cut off the two
little buttons on her breasts, break both her arms, carve away her
remaining fingers, tear the hair from her cunt, tear a handful of hair from
her head, pull out six of her teeth. Thus discomfited, she causes Messieurs
to discharge every one save the Duc who, his livid prick straining upward,
demands leave to exercise Therèse all alone. Leave so to do is accorded
him; using a pocketknife, he pries out all her nails and, as he proceeds,
burns her fingers with a candle, then he fractures one of her arms, and
still he does not discharge; very wroth, he leaps upon Augustine, encunts
her and tears out one of her teeth as he spills his seed into her womb.
    THE 22ND. 114. He breaks a young boy on the rack, then affixes him to a
wheel upon which he is left to expire: upon the wheel he is turned in such
a way as to expose his buttocks, and the scoundrel, his tormentor, has his
table set beneath the wheel, and dines there every day until the patient is
no more.
    115. He flays a young boy, rubs his body with honey, and invites the
flies to the feast.
    116. He slices off his prick and breasts, nails one of his feet to a
post, one of his hands to another post, and thus he is left to expire with
however little dignity.
    117. The same man who had made Duclos take supper with his dogs, owns a
lion too, and, arming a boy with a light stick, introduces the youngster
into the lion's cage. They boy's defense only further arouses the animal;
the libertine watches the contest and discharges when the loser is
completely devoured.
    118. Clothed in a mare's skin, his asshole smeared with mare's fuck, a
small boy is surrendered to an excited horse. The libertine observes their
struggle and the boy's death.
    Giton is subjected to tortures that evening: the Duc, Curval, Hercule,
and Bum-Cleaver penetrate his ass ungreased. He is whipped very lustily,
Messieurs extract four of his teeth, cut off four of his fingers (as
always, each friend has a share in the despoiling of the victim), and
Durcet crushes one of his balls between thumb and forefinger. All four
gentlemen soundly flog Augustine. Her glorious ass is soon washed in blood,
the Duc embuggers her while Curval severs one of her fingers, then Curval
marches into the breach while the Duc six times sears her thighs with a hot
iron; Blangis snips away yet another finger the same instant his colleague
discharges, and despite all this rough treatment, she spends the night, a
stormy one, in the Duc's bed. Marie sustains a broken arm, her fingernails
are drawn out, her fingers burned.
    That same night, Durcet and Curval, seconded by Desgranges and Duclos,
accompany Adelaide to the cellars. Curval gives her a farewell embuggering,
then they cause her to die in the throes of terrible sufferings, which you
will give in full detail.
    THE 23RD. 119. He places a young boy in a machine which stretches him,
dislocating his bones; he is meticulously and thoroughly broken, then
removed from the machine, given a chance to recover his breath, exposed to
the process again; and so it continues for several days, until the
patient's death.
    120. He has a pretty girl pollute and fatigue a young boy; he is
drained very dry indeed, but still the girl toils over him, he is given no
nourishment, and eventually dies in horrible convulsions.
    121. In the space of a single day, he performs four operations upon the
young man: a gallstone removal, a trepanning, the excision of a fistula in
the eye, of one in the anus. He knows just enough about surgery to botch
all four operations; then he abandons the patient, giving him no further
help and watching him expire.
    122. After having sheared off the boy's prick and balls, using a red-
hot iron he hollows out a cunt in the place formerly occupied by his
genitals; the iron makes the hole and cauterizes simultaneously: he fucks
the patient's new orifice and strangles him with his hands upon
discharging.
    123. He massages him with a currycomb; when he has generally abraded
his flesh in this fashion, he rubs him with alcohol, ignites it, resumes
his combing, rubs again with alcohol, relights the torch, proceeding in
this wise till death makes further care unnecessary.
    That same evening, Narcisse's turn arrives to be vexed; fire is applied
to his thighs and little prick, then Messieurs crush his two balls.
    They turn again to Augustine upon the recommendation of the Duc, whose
spiteful attitude toward her seems only to have worsened; they burn her
thighs and armpits, a very hot bar of iron is rammed into her cunt. She
faints, the Duc waxes all the more furious, he shears off one of her
nipples, drinks her blood, breaks both her arms, and tears out her cunt
hair, all her teeth, and cuts off every finger left on her hands,
cauterizing the wounds with fire. And once again 'tis in his bed she
sleeps, or rather lies, that night, for if one is to believe Duclos, he
fucks her fore and aft the whole night long, repeatedly telling her that
the day about to dawn will be her last.
    Louison appears, they break one of her arms, burn her tongue, her
clitoris, tear out all her nails, and burn the tips of her bleeding
fingers. Curval sodomizes her in this state and, in his rage, twists and
manhandles one of Zelmire's breasts while discharging. Not content with
those abuses, he catches hold of her again and whips her until he cannot
lift his arm.
    THE 24TH. 124. The same man Martaine referred to on the 1st of January
wishes to embugger the father while his two children observe, and as he
discharges, he stabs one child to death with one hand, and with his other
strangles the other.
    125. His first passion was to flog the bellies of pregnant women; his
second is to assemble six of them whose pregnancy has reached the end of
the eighth month: he ties them back to back, their bellies prominently
thrust forward: he splits open the belly of the first, perforates the belly
of the second with dagger thrusts, gives a hundred kicks to the third's, a
hundred blows of a club deflates the belly of the fourth, he burns the
fifth's, applies a rasp to the sixth's, and then, using a truncheon upon
her belly, he finishes off whichever amongst them has survived his
treatment.
    Curval interrupts the narrations with some furious scene or other, this
passion having had a great effect upon his mind.
    126. The seducer mentioned by Duclos assembles two women. Says he to
the first: "Deny God and religion if you wish to live," but his valet has
whispered to her, telling her to say nothing, for if she does, she shall
surely be killed, but by keeping silent she shall have nothing to fear.
Hence, she is mute; he blows out her brains, murmuring, "There's one for
God." He calls the second; struck by the example of the first and
remembering what she has been told before entering the room, that she has
no choice but to renounce belief in God and religion if she is to save
herself, she assents to all he proposes: he blows out her brains: "And
there's another for the Devil." The villain plays that little game every
week.
    127. He is a great bugger and he is fond of giving dances, but the
ceiling in the salon is of a special order, it collapses as soon as the
room is filled, and nearly everyone perishes. Were he to remain living in
the same city for any length of time, he would be detected, but he moves
frequently; he is eventually found out, but only after having given his
fiftieth dance.
    128. Martaine's of the 27th of January, whose taste is to promote
abortions, establishes three pregnant women in three cruel postures,
composing an artistic group. Thus situated, they give birth while he looks
on, then he ties each infant to its mother's neck until the little creature
either dies or is eaten, for the libertine keeps the women just where they
are and gives them no food. The same personage has yet another passion: he
has two women whelp in his presence, blindfolds them, and after having
himself indentified the infants by some mark, he puts them side by side and
bids each woman go and recover each her own offspring; if the ladies are
not mistaken, he permits their young to live, but if they are in error, he
carves up the children with a saber.
    Narcisse is presented at the evening orgies. While the Bishop sodomizes
the little fellow, Durcet relieves him of his remaining digits and inserts
a red-hot needle into his urethral canal. They bid Giton step forth, he is
kicked about, 'tis a lively game of ball they play with him, three of the
friends fracture one of his legs while the Duc embuggers him.
    Zelmire's turn: they roast her clitoris, sear her tongue, bake her
gums, extract four of her teeth, burn her thighs in six places before and
behind, snip away her nipples, unfinger both her hands, and when she is
thus prepared to afford pleasure, Curval embuggers her. But he does not
discharge.
    Up steps Fanchon. Their attentions cost her an eye.
    Escorted by Desgranges and Duclos, the Duc and Curval make a journey to
the cellars with Augustine in the course of that night; her ass has been
preserved in excellent condition, 'tis now lashed to tatters, then the two
brothers alternately embugger her, but guard their seed, and then the Duc
gives her fifty-eight wounds in the buttocks, pours boiling oil into each
gash. He drives a hot iron into her cunt, another into her ass, and fucks
her wounded charms, his prick sheathed in a sealskin condom which worsens
the already lamentable state of her privities. That accomplished, the flesh
is peeled away from the bones of her arms and legs, which bones are sawed
in several different places, then her nerves are laid bare in four adjacent
places, the nerve ends are tied to a short stick which, like a tourniquet,
is twisted, thus drawing forth the aforesaid nerves, which are very
delicate parts of the human anatomy and, which, when mistreated, cause the
patient to suffer much. Augustine's agonies are unheard-of.
    She is given some respite and allowed to recruit her strength, then
Messieurs resume work, but this time, as the nerves are pulled into sight,
they are scraped with the blade of a knife. The friends complete that
operation and now move elsewhere; a hole is bored in her throat, her tongue
is drawn back, down, and passed through it, 'tis a comical effect, they
broil her remaining breast, then, clutching a scalpel, the Duc thrusts his
hand into her cunt and cuts through the partition dividing the anus from
the vagina; he throws aside the scalpel, reintroduces his hand, and
rummaging about in her entrails, forces her to shit through her cunt,
another amusing stunt; then, availing himself of the same entrance, he
reaches up and tears open her stomach. Next, they concentrate upon her
visage: cut away her ears, burn her nasal passages, blind her eyes with
molten sealing wax, girdle her cranium, hang her by the hair, attach heavy
stones to her feet, and allow her to drop: the top of the skull remains
dangling.
    She was still breathing when she fell, and the Duc encunted her in this
sorry state; he discharged and came away only the more enraged. They split
her belly, opened her, and applied fire to her entrails; scalpel in hand,
the President burrows in her chest and harasses her heart, puncturing it in
several places. 'Twas only then her soul fled her body; at the age of
fifteen years and eight months thus perished one of the most heavenly
creatures ever formed by Nature's skillful hand. Etc. Her eulogy.
    THE 25TH. That morning, the Duc takes Colombe to be his wife and
hereafter she performs all a wife's functions.
    129. A great connoisseur of the ass and a man mightily fond thereof, he
embuggers the mistress while the lover looks on, then the lover while his
mistress watches, then he nails the lover over the mistress' body and
leaves them to expire, mouth to mouth.
    Such will be the end of Celadon and Sophie, who are in love, and
Messieurs interrupt the storyteller to oblige Celadon himself to spread a
little hot sealing wax on his dear Sophie's thighs; while obeying the
instructions, he collapses: while lying unconscious, he is embuggered by
the Bishop.
    130. He who was wont to amuse himself by throwing a girl into water and
pulling her out, has as his second passion that of casting seven or eight
whores into a pond and watching them thrash about, for they are poor
swimmers. He tenders them an iron pike, but it is heated red hot; still
they cling to it, but he thrusts them away, and that they the more
certainly perish, he has amputated one limb from each of them before
throwing them in.
    131. His earlier caprice was to cause vomiting; his improvement thereof
is, by using a secret means, to spread the plague throughout an entire
provence: he has brought about the death of a truly incredible number of
people. He also poisons wells and streams.
    132. Fond of employing the whip, he has three pregnant women locked in
an iron cage, and with them he imprisons their three children; a fire is
lit beneath the cage, its occupants caper and dance more and more in
earnest as the floor heats; the women take the children in their arms, and
finally fall and die in this manner.
    (That one belongs somewhere further above; move it to its proper place.)
    133. 'Twas he who pricked with an awl; more of a man today, he seals a
pregnant woman in a chest whose interior is studded with sharp nails; he
then has the chest rolled and dragged through the garden.
    These tales of pregnant women being chastised have proven as woeful to
Constance's ears as they have delighted Curval's; she sees only too well
what the future holds in store for her. As her fatal hour is drawing nigh,
Messieurs are of the opinion her vexations may be inaugurated: her thighs
are burned in six places, molten wax is allowed to trickle upon her navel,
and her breasts are teased with pins.
    Giton appears, a burning needle is run through his little member, his
little balls are stabbed, four of his teeth are extracted.
    Then comes Zelmire, whose death is not far off; deep into her cunt runs
a red-hot poker, six wounds are inflicted upon her breasts, a dozen upon
her thighs, needles are driven into her navel, each friend bestows twenty
strong blows upon her face. They forcibly remove four of her teeth, her eye
is pricked, she is whipped, she is embuggered. While in the act of
sodomizing her, Curval, her husband, gives her intelligence of her death,
scheduled for the morrow; she declares she is not sorry to learn the
tidings, for 'twill put a period to her sorrows.
    Rosette steps forward; four teeth are jerked from her mouth, each of
her shoulders is branded, her thighs and calves are gashed and hacked; she
is then embuggered while several hands worry her breasts.
    And now Therèse advances; out comes an eye, a hundred blows of the
bull's pizzle rain down upon her scrawny back.
    THE 26TH. 134. A bugger takes his stand at the foot of a tower; the
earth about him is studded with sharpened steel rods pointing upward; his
associates pitch several children of both sexes from the top of the tower.
He has previously embuggered them, and now enjoys seeing them impaled a
second time. 'Tis, he considers, very thrilling to be splashed by their
blood.
    135. The same personage she cited on the 11th of February, whose tastes
ran to instigating combustions, also delights in binding six pregnant women
to bundles of inflammable materials; these he sets afire, and if his
victims undertake to save themselves, he awaits them, pitchfork in hand,
skewers them and hurls them back into the blaze. However, when half-
roasted, the floor gives way and they spill into a large vat of boiling
oil, wherein they finally perish.
    136. He is the nobleman Duclos spoke of, who has no fondness for the
poor and who bought Lucile, her mother, and her sister, and whom Desgranges
has also cited (verify this); another of his passions is to assemble a
family of beggars over a mine and to watch those luckless creatures blown
to bits.
    137. A notorious sodomist, in order to combine that crime with those of
incest, murder, rape, sacrilege, and adultery, first inserts a Host in his
ass, then has himself embuggered by his own son, rapes his married
daughter, and kills his niece.
    138. Greatly partisan to asses, he strangles a mother while embuggering
her; when she is dead, he turns her over and cunt-fucks her corpse. While
discharging, he kills her daughter with a knife, slashing her breasts, then
he embuggers the girl even though she is dead; then apparently convinced
there is still some life in his victims, and fancying they are jet capable
of suffering, he hurls the cadavers into a fire and discharges as he
watches them burn. Duclos spoke of this wealthy individual on the 29th of
November: 'twas he who liked to see the girl lying on the pallet covered
with black satin; he is also the same man who figured in Martaine's first
tale of the 11th of January.
    The evening's program begins with Narcisse. One of his hands is lopped
off.
    Giton loses a hand too.
    The interior of Michette's cunt is burned, the same treatment is given
Rosette's, and then both girls are burned upon the body and breasts. But
Curval, who has lost control of himself, violates the society's charter and
cleaves an entire breast from Rosette's chest, all the while embuggering
Michette.
    Therèse makes a further appearance; she receives two hundred blows of
the bull's pizzle and loses her other eye.
    Curval goes in search of the Duc that night when all is still and,
accompanied by Desgranges and Duclos, those two champions take Zelmrire
down to the cellars where the most refined tortures are put to use upon
her: they are all much more painful, more severe than the others employed
upon Augustine, and the two men are still hard at work by the time
breakfast arrives the following morning. That enchanting girl dies at the
age of fifteen years and two months. 'Twas she who could boast the most
beautiful ass in the harem of little girls. And thus deprived of a wife,
the President weds Hebe the next day.
    THE 27TH. The seventeeth and last week's festival is postponed until
the morrow, in order that the holiday may coincide with the end of the
narrations; Desgranges recounts the following passions:
    139. A man Martaine described on the 12th of January, the one who set
off fireworks in the woman's ass, has, for his second, this other passion:
he ties two pregnant women together so that they form a ball and fires them
from a large mortar.
    140. He was a scratcher and scab picker; he now places two pregnant
women in a room and obliges them to fight with knives (he observes them
from a safe position); they are naked, he threatens them with a gun he
keeps trained upon them, and promises to shoot them dead if they begin to
dally and falter. If they kill each other, why, that is precisely what he
wishes, if not, sword in hand, he rushes into the arena and, after killing
one, he disembowels the other and burns her entrails with aqua fortis, or
with pieces of red-hot metal.
    141. A man who once liked to flog pregnant women's bellies has
reformed: he presently binds a pregnant girl to a wheel and beneath it,
fixed in a chair and unable to move, sits the girl's mother, her head flung
back, her mouth open and ready to receive all the ordures and rubbish which
flow out of the corpse, and the infant, too, if the girl gives birth to it.
    142. Martaine's of the 16th of January, whose joy was to prick asses,
attaches a girl to a machine studded with sharp iron points; he fucks her
as she lies upon that bed, with every blow of his loins he drives her upon
the nails, then he turns her over and fucks her asswise, that she may also
be punctured on the other side. When he has finished that phase of the
operation, he lays a second plank above her, and it is likewise provided
with nails; the planks are brought together by means of bolts, thus dies
the patient, crushed and stabbed in a multitude of places. The pressing is
carried out gradually, she is given ample opportunity to savor her pain.
    143. A fustigator stretches a pregnant woman out upon a table; he nails
her thereto, first driving a fiery nail into each eye, one into her mouth,
another into either breast, then he burns her clitoris and nipples with a
taper, and slowly saws her knees halfway through, breaks her legs, and ends
by hammering a red-hot spike, of enormous size, into her navel: it undoes
both mother and child. He likes to have her ready to give birth.
    Messieurs whip Julie and Duclos that evening, but from amusement, since
they are both amongst the inhabitants of Silling who shall transfer their
residence to Paris: nevertheless, Julie's thighs are burned in two places,
and she is depilated.
    Sentenced to die the next day but unaware of her impending fate,
Constance appears; her nipples are scorched, molten wax is allowed to
trickle down over her belly, she yields four teeth, Messieurs prick the
white of her eyes with needles.
    Narcisse, also due to be immolated on the 28th of February, enters upon
the stage; he loses an eye and four teeth.
    Giton, Michette, and Rosette, destined to accompany Constance to the
grave, each surrenders an eye and four teeth, Rosette her two nipples to
the knife and six chunks of flesh, some of them carved from her arms, some
from her thighs; all her fingers are neatly severed, and hot irons are
introduced into her cunt and bum. Both Curval and the Duc discharge twice.
    Up steps Louison; she weathers a storm of one hundred blows of the
bull's pizzle; Messieurs pluck out one of her eyes and, most cynically, bid
her swallow it. Down it goes.
    THE 28TH. 144. A bugger: has two girls brought to him, they are fast
friends, he ties them mouth to mouth, and by their side sits an excellent
meal; but they cannot get to it, and he watches them bite and eat each
other when hunger begins to exert its influence upon them.
    145. A man who as a boy was wont to flog pregnant women, now shuts six
of this sort into a round cage formed by large iron hoops: they are all
facing one another. Little by little, the hoops contract, little by little
they are brought together, slowly they are flattened, gradually all six are
crushed, their fruit crushed too. But prior to this he has cut a buttock
and a breast from each and fashioned six collars therefrom; each woman
wears one as you might a fur tippet.
    146. Another pregnant-woman beater binds two of these objects each to
the end of a long tilting pole; a clever machine, into which the other ends
of the poles are inserted, bumps and bangs the women against each other.
These repeated collisions are their mutual undoing, and he discharges. He
makes every effort to procure himself a mother and daughter, or two
sisters.
    147. That Comte of whom Duclos spoke at length, and to whom Desgranges
alluded once before on the 26th, he who purchased Lucile, Lucile's mother,
and Lucile's little sister, of whom Martaine also spoke in her fourth tale
on the 1st of January, this Comte, I say, has another passion still: 'tis
to suspend three women over three holes. The first woman hangs by her
tongue, beneath her is a very deep well; the second hangs from her breasts,
underneath her lies a charcoal brazier; the scalp of the third has been
loosened, she hangs by her hair over a pit studded with pointed iron rods.
When the weight of their bodies causes these women to fall free - when the
scalp is torn from the head of the third, when the breasts of the second
tear loose from her torso, when the tongue of the first is torn from her
mouth - they only escape one difficulty in order to encounter a new one.
Whenever possible, he suspends three pregnant women, or three women from
the same family; such was his unkind use of Lucile, her sister, and her
mother.
    148. The last passion.
    (But why the last? Where are the other two? They were all there in the original outline.)
    Desgranges recounts the last passion:
    The nobleman who indulges in this final passion we shall designate as
the infernal caprice or, more simply, as the hell passion, has been cited
four times: by Duclos in the last story she told on the 29th of November;
by Champville, when referring to a personage who depucelates nine-year-olds
only; by Martaine, as he who depucelates three-year-olds in the bum; by
Desgranges who mentioned him in an early connection (establish that
connection more precisely). He is a man of some forty years, enormous in
stature and furnished with the member of a stallion: his prick is very near
to nine inches in circumference and a foot in overall length; he is
exceedingly wealthy, a very powerful lord, very harsh, very cruel, his
heart is of stone. He has a house on the outskirts of Paris which he uses
for no purposes other than the gratification of this passion.
    The surroundings wherein he savors his delight is a spacious room,
simply decked, but padded everywhere, the floor covered with mattresses;
upon entering the room one sees a single long casement window, the room has
no other opening save for the door; that window looks down upon an
underground cellar, twenty feet below the salon where he busies himself,
and looking out, one sees the mattresses which break the fall of the girls
as he flings down into the cellar, a description whereof we shall give
shortly. He requires fifteen girls for this party; their ages must be
between fifteen and seventeen, neither more, nor less; he employs six
procuresses in Paris, as well as twelve in the provinces, and they are to
spare no efforts, no expense to find him everything of the most charming
that may possibly be found of that age, and as it is collected, the
material is sent to a country convent over which he has absolute control,
and there, in that nursery, the girls ripen, and from it he selects the
fifteen objects for his debauch, which is regularly executed every
fortnight.
    That evening before the ceremony begins, he personally examines the
said material, the least defect in which warrants its rejection; he insists
that his creatures be perfect models of beauty. Escorted by a procuress,
they arrive at the house and are lodged in a room adjacent to the pleasure-
salon. They are first exhibited to him in this adjoining chamber, all
fifteen are naked. He touches, feels, fondles, experiments with them, he
scrutinizes them, sucks their mouths, and one after the other has them all
shit into his mouth. But he does not swallow.
    This initial operation performed with dreadful seriousness, he brands
each upon the shoulder, imprinting a number in her flesh; it is to indicate
the order in which he will receive them. That done, he goes alone into the
salon, where he remains for a brief space: no one knows what he does in
this moment of solitude. Then he knocks. Girl Number 1 is cast into his
lair. And she is properly cast into it: the procuress flings her toward
him, he catches her in his arms, she is naked. He shuts the door, takes up
switches and begins to flail her ass; after that he sodomizes her with his
gigantic prick. Never does he need any help. He does not discharge. His
prick retires, still rock-hard; he seizes the switches again and returns to
lashing the girl's back, the front and back of her thighs, then he lays her
down again and deflowers her cunt; next, he goes back to beating her, now
upon the breasts, both of which he seizes and grinds and kneads with all
his strength, and he is a strong man. And now he picks up an awl and six
times stabs her body, driving his point once into each bruised breast.
    After all that has been done, he opens the casement window, places the
girl in the middle of the room, standing erect, at attention, facing the
window; he stands behind her and, when all is ready, gives her a kick in
the ass of such startling violence that she flies across the room, crashes
against the windowsill, topples over it, and vanishes into the cellar. But
before launching her, he slips a ribbon around her neck, thereby to signify
which torture, according to his best belief, will be most suitable for that
particular patient, which torture will prove most voluptuous to inflict
upon her, and his acuity and judgment in these matters, his tact and
discrimination are truly wonderful.
    And thus the girls pass one by one through his hands, the identical
ceremony awaits them all, and thus he makes away with thirty maidenheads in
a given day, and performs those heroic feats unscathed: not a drop of fuck
does he lose. The subterranean apartment into which the girl tumble is
furnished with fifteen different assortments of frightful torture machines,
and an executioner, wearing the mask and emblems of a demon, wearing also
the colors of his specialty, presides over each apparatus. The ribbon
placed about the girl's neck corresponds in color with the torture to which
she has been condemned, and directly she falls into the pit, the
appropriate executioner steps forward, having recognized his victim, and
drags her to the machine of which he has charge, but the tortures do not
begin until the fifteenth has entered the gallery and been claimed by her
demon. As soon as the entire complement has descended, our man, by now in a
furious state after having depucelated thirty orifices without discharging,
I say, makes his entrance into the infernal repair; he is practically
naked, his prick glued against his belly. Everything is ready, all the
tortures are in motion, and they proceed simultaneously, amidst much noise.
    The first torture engine is a wheel upon which the girl is strapped and
which, rotating uninterruptedly, bears against an outer circle studded with
razors which everywhere scratch and tear and slice the unfortunate victim,
but as the blades do not bite deep, only superficially, she turns for at
least two hours before dying.
    The second: the girl lies two inches above a red-hot iron plate which
slowly melts her.
    Third: she is attached by the waist to a piece of burning iron, and all
her limbs are twisted and frightfully dislocated.
    Fourth: the four limbs attached each to a spring which slowly moves
away, gradually stretching her arms and legs until they are detached and
the trunk falls into a brazier.
    Fifth: a red-hot cast-iron bell is place over her head, but the bonnet
is several sizes too large, the iron does not touch her, but her brain
slowly melts, her head is slowly grilled.
    Sixth: she is chained inside an iron tub of boiling oil.
    Seventh: she is held standing before a machine which, six times a
minute, shoots a small dart into her body, and each time into a different
place; the machine does not stop until she is entirely feathered.
    Eighth: her feet anchored in a furnace, a mass of lead very gradually
descends upon her head, thrusting her further into the oven.
    Ninth: her executioner continually pricks her with a red-hot iron goad;
she is bound before him, he thus meticulously works over every inch of her
body.
    Tenth: she is chained to a pillar underneath a large glass dome, twenty
famished reptiles devour her alive.
    Eleventh: a cannon ball attached to each foot, she is suspended by one
hand, and if she falls, 'tis into a furnace.
    Twelfth: a hook is driven through her mouth; thus she hangs, a deluge
of burning pitch incessantly pouring over her body.
    Thirteenth: the nerves are pulled from her flesh and tied to cords
which draw them further, and meanwhile burning nails are driven into her
body.
    Fourteenth: alternately torn with tongs and whipped upon her cunt and
ass with martinets whose steel tips are heated red hot, and from time to
time scratched with burning iron rakes.
    Fifteenth: she is poisoned by a drug which burns and rends her
entrails, which hurls her into frightful convulsions, causes her to utter
hideous screams, and insures her death; but it is slow, and she is the last
to succumb. This is one of the most terrible of the ordeals.
    The villain walks about the torture chamber as soon as he arrives
there, spends fifteen minutes contemplating each operation while swearing
like of the damned and overwhelming the patient with unmentionable
invectives. When toward the end he can bear no more of it and his fuck,
captive for so long, is ready to escape him, he falls into a comfortable
armchair whence he can observe the entire spectacle, two of the demons
approach him, display their asses and frig him, and he squirts his seed
while pronouncing shouts so stentorian that they rise above and totally
blot out the din his fifteen patients are producing. And now he gets to his
feet and leaves the gallery, the coup de grâce is given the girls who are
not yet dead, their bodies are buried, and there's an end to it until the
next fortnight comes round.
    Wherewith Desgranges terminates her contribution; she is congratulated,
toasted, acclaimed, etc. . . .
    Upon the morning of that day there had been the most ominous
preparations for the great holiday Messieurs were meditating. Curval,
detesting Constance as he does, had been cunt-fucking her at a very early
hour and while fucking her had imparted grave news to her. Coffee was
served by the five victims, to wit: Constance, Narcisse, Giton, Michette,
and Rosette. Horrid things were perpetrated in the salon; during the
recitations the reader has just perused, the quatrains Messieurs had been
able to arrange had been composed of naked children. And as soon as
Desgranges had brought her narrations to a term, Fanny had been marched to
the fore: her remaining fingers and toes had been hacked off, and Curval
had embuggered her without pomade, so had the Duc, so had the four first-
rank fuckers.
    Sophie was led into the center of the stage; Celadon, her lover, had
been obliged to burn the interior of her cunt, all her fingers had been
severed, her four limbs bled, her right ear had been torn away, her left
eye gouged out. Celadon had been constrained to lend his assistance in all
these operations, and his least frown or lowest murmur was rewarded by a
flogging with an iron-tipped martinet. Supper had come next, the meal had
been voluptuous, Messieurs drank naught but sparkling champagne and
liqueurs.
    The torturing was arranged for the orgy hour; as the friends sat at
dessert, word was brought to them that everything was in readiness, they
descended and found the cellars agreeably festooned and very properly
furnished. Constance lay upon a kind of mausoleum, the four children
decorated its corners. As their asses were still in excellent condition,
Messieurs were able to take considerable pleasure in molesting them; then
at last the heavier work was begun: while embuggering Giton, Curval himself
opened Constance's belly and tore out the fruit, already well-ripened and
clearly of the masculine sex; then the society continued, inflicting
tortures upon those five victims. Their sufferings were long, cruel, and
various.
    Upon THE 1ST DAY OF MARCH, remarking that the snows have not yet
melted, Messieurs decide to dispatch the rest of the subjects one by one.
Messieurs devise new arrangements whereby to keep their bedchambers
staffed, and agree to give a green ribbon to everyone whom they propose to
take back with them to France; the green favor is bestowed, however, upon
condition the recipient is willing to lend a hand with the destruction of
the other victims. Nothing is said to the six women in the kitchen;
Messieurs decide to do away with the three scullery maids, who are well
worth toying over, but to spare the cooks, because of their considerable
talents. And so a list is drawn up; 'tis found that, to date, the following
creatures had already been sacrificed:
    Wives: Aline, Adelaide, and Constance: 3
    Sultanas: Augustine, Michette, Rosette, and Zelmire: 4
    Bardashes: Giton and Narcisse: 2
    Fuckers: one subaltern: 1
    Total: 10
    The new menages are arranged:
    The Duc takes unto himself, or under his protection: Hercule, Duclos,
one cook: 4
    Curval takes: Bum-Cleaver, Champville, one cook: 4
    Durcet takes: Invictus, Martaine, one cook: 4
    And the Bishop: Antinoüs, Desgranges, Julie: 4
    Total: 16
    Messieurs decide that, upon a given signal, and with the aid of the
four fuckers and the four storytellers, but not the cooks whom they do not
wish to employ for these purposes, they will seize all the others, making
use of the most treacherous possible means and when their victims least
expect it; they will lay hands upon all the others, I say, save for the
three scullions, who will not be seized until later on; it is further
decided that the upstairs chambers will be converted into four prisons,
that the three subaltern fuckers, manacled, will be lodged in the strongest
of these prisons; Fanny, Colombe, Sophie, and Hebe in the second; Celadon,
Zelamir, Cupidon, Zephyr, Adonis, and Hyacinthe in the third; and the four
elders in the fourth; that one subject will be dispatched every day; and
that when the hour arrives to arrest the three scullions, they will be
locked into whichever of the prison happens to be empty.
    These agreements once reached, Messieurs appoint each storyteller the
warden of one prison. And whenever they please, Messieurs will amuse
themselves with these victims, either in their prison or in one of the
larger rooms, or in their Lordships' bedchambers, depending upon Messieurs'
individual preference. And so, as we have just indicated, one subject is
dispatched daily, in the following order:
    On the 1st of March: Fanchon.
    On the 2nd: Louison.
    On the 3rd: Therèse.
    On the 4th: Marie.
    On the 5th: Fanny.
    On the 6th and the 7th: Sophie and Celadon together, for they are
lovers, and they perish nailed one to the other, as we have hitherto
explained.
    On the 8th: one subaltern fucker.
    On the 9th: Hebe.
    On the 10th: another subaltern fucker.
    On the 11th: Colombe.
    On the 12th: the last of the subaltern fuckers.
    On the 13th: Zelamir.
    On the 14th: Cupidon.
    On the 15th: Zephyr.
    On the 16th: Adonis.
    On the 17th: Hyacinthe.
    On the morning of the 18th, Messieurs and their cohorts seize the three
scullions, lock them in the prison formerly occupied by the elders, and
dispatch one upon that day.
    A second upon the 19th.
    And the last upon the 20th.
    Total: 20.
    The following recapitulation lists the inhabitants of the Château of
Silling during that memorable winter:
    Masters: 4
    Elders: 4
    Kitchen staff: 6
    Storytellers: 4
    Fuckers: 8
    Little boys: 8
    Wives: 4
    Little girls: 8
    Total: 46
    Whereof thirty were immolated and sixteen returned to Paris.

FINAL ASSESSMENT
    Massacred prior to the 1st of March,
    in the course of the orgies: 10
    Massacred after the 1st of March: 20
    Survived and came back: 16
    Total: 46
    With what regards the tortures and deaths of the last twenty subjects,
and life such as it was in the household until the day of departure, you
will give details at your leisure and where you see fit, you will say,
first of all, that thirteen of the sixteen survivors (three of whom were
cooks) took all their meals together; sprinkle in whatever tortures you
like.




NOTES
    Under no circumstances deviate from this plan, everything has been
worked out, the entirety several times re-examined with the greatest care
and thoroughness.
    Detail the departure. And throughout the whole, introduce a quantity of
moral dissertation and diatribe, above all at the suppers.
    When you produce the final version, keep a notebook; in it you will
place the names of all the principal characters and the names of all those
who play important roles, such as they who have several passions and who
will appear several times in the romance, as, for example, the hell
libertine; leave a wide margin beside their names and, as you recopy, fill
it with everything you come across that has any bearing upon them; this
note is very essential, it is the sole way to keep your work clear of
obscurities and to avoid repetitions.
    Edulcorate Part The First, it is much too strong; things develop too
rapidly and too far in it, it cannot possibly be too soft, mild, feeble,
subdued. Above all, never have the four friends do anything until it has
first been recounted. You have not been sufficiently scrupulous in that
connection.
    In Part The First, say that the man who mouth-fucks the little girl
prostituted by her father is the same man, of whom she has already spoken,
who fucks with a dirty prick.
    Do not forget to place somewhere in December the scene of the little
girls serving supper, squirting liqueurs from their asses into Messieurs'
glasses; you announced such a scene but failed to include it in the plan.

SUPPLEMENTARY TORTURES
    -By means of a hollow tube, a mouse is introduced into her cunt, the
tube is withdrawn, the cunt sewn up, and the animal, unable to get out,
devours her entrails.
    -She is made to swallow a snake which in similar wise feeds upon her
entrails.

ADDENDA
    In general, describe Curval and the Duc as two hot-blooded and
imperious scoundrels, 'tis thus you conceived them in the plan and in Part
The First, and figure the Bishop as a cool, reasoning and tough-minded
villain. As for Durcet, he must be mischievous, a teaser, false,
traitorous, perfidious. In accordance with which, have them do everything
that conforms with such characters.
    Carefully recapitulate all the names and the qualities of all the
personages your storytellers mention; this to avoid repetition.
    Upon one page in your notebook of characters draw the plan of the
château, room by room, and in the blank space next to this page, itemize
all the things done in each room.
    This entire great roll was begun the 22nd of October, 1785, and
finished in thirty-seven days.




MISTAKES I HAVE MADE*
    I have been too explicit, not sufficiently reticent, about the chapel
activities at the beginning; must not elaborate upon them until after the
stories in which they are mentioned.
    Said too much about active and passive sodomy; conceal that until the
stories have discussed it.
    I was wrong to have made Duclos react strongly to the death of her
sister; that doesn't sort with the rest of her character; change it.
    If I said Aline was a virgin upon arrival at the château, that was an
error: she isn't, and could not be. The Bishop has depucelated her in every
sector.
    And not having been able to reread all this, there must be a swarm of
other mistakes.
    When later I put the text in final order, I must be particularly
careful to have a notebook beside me at all times; I'll have to put down
very exact mention of each happening and each portrait as I write it;
otherwise, I'll get horribly confused because of the multitude of
characters.
    For the Second Part, begin with the assumption Augustine and Zephyr are
already sleeping in the Duc's bedchamber in the First Part; likewise Adonis
and Zelmire in Curval's, Hyacinthe and Fanny in Durcet's, Celadon and
Sophie in the Bishop's, even though none of them has been deflowered yet.
    * As Sade notes, the speed with which he wrote the final draft of The
120 Days, and because he was unable to reread and correct his manuscript,
resulted in a number of minor discrepancies in dates, characters, and
situations, which the careful reader will doubtless discover. None the
less, given the large cast of characters, and the complexity of rules and
procedures, his accuracy of detail is remarkable. -Tr.


    

20040121003249