enjoy the same intoxication, redoubled her rage still further; she was like a female Prometheus, torn by a hundred vultures at once.
GAMIANI:
“Medor! Medor! Take me Take me!” At this cry an enormous dog appeared from a hiding place, and throwing himself upon the Comtesse began to ardently lick her clitoris, the point of which stood out red and inflamed.
The Comtesse cried in a loud voice: “Hai! Hai! Hai!” raising her voice in proportion to her pleasure. One could thus calculate the graduations of the tickling felt by this frightful Calymanthe.
GAMIANI:
“The milk! the milk! Oh! the milk!”
I could not understand this exclamation, a veritable cry of agony and distress, when Julie reappeared, armed with an enormous godmiche filled with hot milk, which a spring allowed to be squirted ten paces at will. By means of two straps she adapted this ingenious instrument to the desired place. The most generous stallion, in all his power, was never furnished, in thickness at least, to better advantage. I could not believe that an introduction was possible, when to my surprise, five or six furious lunges, amidst sharp, piercing cries, sufficed to entirely swallow and hide that enormous machine. The Comtesse suffered like the damned: stiff, motionless, like a piece of marble, one might have said she was the Cassandra of Cassini.
The in and out movement, operated with consummate skill, when Medor, dispossessed but always obedient to his lesson, incontinently threw himself upon the male Julie, the movements of whose half-opened thighs discovered a most delicious feast. Medor acquitted himself so well that Julie suddenly stopped and swooned, overcome with pleasure. Her enjoyment must have been great, for I have never seen anything equal to the expression on that woman's face.
Irritated by a delay which prolonged her pain and deferred her pleasure. the unhappy Comtesse cursed and groaned like a lost soul.
Recovering herself. Julie quickly recommenced with greater force. At a furious lunge by the Comtesse, her eyes closed, mouth half open, she comprehended that the moment had come, and her finger released the spring.
GAMIANI:
“Ah! Ah!..stop!..I melt!..hail! hail! hail!. . I spend!. . Oh. .!”
Infernal lubricity! I had no longer the strength to move from my place. My reason was lost, my eyes fascinated.
These furious transports, this brutal lust made my head swim. There seemed to be nothing in me but burning blood, disordered by lust and debauch. I was bestially furious with love.
Fanny's face had also singularly changed. Her eyes were fixed, her stiffened arms lay nervously beside me. Her half opened lips and clenched teeth indicated an attack of delirious sensuality which bordered on the rage for pleasure, which demanded to excess.
We had hardly reached the bed when we threw ourselves, heaving upon each other, like two wild beasts. Everywhere our bodies touched and rubbed became rapidly electrified. It was, in the midst of convulsive embraces. wild cries, frenzied bitings, a coupling of flesh and bone, a hideous coupling, the enjoyment of brutes, rapidly devouring, yet which did not draw blood. Sleep finally put an end to all these furors. After five hours of this beneficent calm, I awoke the first.
The sun was already shining with all its fires, its rays joyously piercing the curtains and playing in golden reflections over the rich carpet and silky stuffs.
What an enchanting awaking, colorful, poetic, after an unclean night? I said to myself; it seemed to me that I had escaped from a frightful nightmare, and I had near me, in my arms, within my hands, a gently agitated breast, a breast of lilies and roses, so frail and so pure, that one feared to destroy it in merely brushing it with the tips of the lips. Oh the delicious creature! Fanny, in the arm of sleep, half nude on an oriental bed, realized all the ideals of my fairest dreams. Her head reposed, graciously bent upon a curling arm; her profile was drawn, sweet and pure, like a design of Raphael; her body, in each of its parts as in the assembled whole, was of a magical beauty.
It was a great pleasure to savor at leisure the sight of so many charms, also it was a pity to think that, virgin for fifteen spring-times, a single night had sufficed to soil her.
Freshness, graces, youth, the hand of the orgy had tarnished, had sullied all, had all plunged into filth and mire. This soul so naive and tender, this spirit, until now so gently cradled by the hands of angels; delivered forever to impure demons; no more illusions, no more dreams, not even a first love, not even a sweet surprise; all the poetic life of a young girl forever lost.
She awoke, the poor child, almost laughing. She thought to find her accustomed morning, her sweet thoughts, her innocence, alas! She saw me: it was no longer her own bed, her own chamber. Oh! her sorrow was painful. Her tears choked her. I contemplated them, abashed, ashamed of myself. I held her pressed within my arms. Each of her tears I drank with intoxication.
The senses no longer spoke, my spirit alone out poured itself, my love was painted vividly in my language and in my eyes.
Fanny heard me, mute, astonished, ravished: she aspired my breath, my glances, pressed me momentarily and seemed to say: “Yes! Yes! still yours, all yours!” As she had given me her body, credulous, innocent, she now gave me her soul, confident, enthused. I thought, in a kiss, to take it from her lips, and I there gave her mine. It was heaven, and it was all. We finally arose. I wished to again see the Comtesse. She was ignobly sprawled, her face disordered, her body soiled and stained. Like a drunken woman, thrown naked near a wall, she seemed to sleep off her debauch.
“Oh! away,” I cried, “Away! Fanny, let us quit this ignoble resort.”
SECOND PART
I had thought that Fanny, still young and innocent at heart, would only conserve of Gamiani a memory of horror and disgust. I loaded her with tenderness and love, and was prodigal with the sweetest and most intoxicating caresses some times I exhausted her with pleasure, in the hope that from thence she would think of no other pleasure than that avowed by Nature which confounds the two sexes in the pleasures of the body and soul.
Alas, I deceived myself. Her imagination had been aroused, and depassed all our pleasures. Nothing equaled, in Fanny's eyes, the transports of her friend. Our greatest accesses seemed to her but cold caresses, com pared to the furors she had known on that unfortunate night.
She had sworn to me that she would never again see Gamiani, but her oath did not extinguish the desires that she nourished in secret. Vainly she struggled; this interior combat only served to further irritate her. Soon I perceived that she no longer resisted. I had lost her confidence, and it was necessary for me to observe her from hiding.
By the aid of a skillfully made opening I was able to watch her each evening upon retiring. Unhappy one! I frequently saw her in tears upon her divan contort herself, roll desperately, then suddenly tear her clothing and throw them from her and stand naked before her glass, her eyes wild as in insanity. She touched and struck her' self, excited herself to pleasure with a foolish and brutal frenzy; I could not cure her, but I desired to see how far this delirium of the senses would carry her.
One evening I was watching at my post. Fanny was about to retire when I heard her cry:
FANNY:
Who is there? Is that you, Angelique?..What! You, Madame Gamiani! Oh Madame! I was far from thinking. . ”
GAMIANI:
Without doubt, since you fly me and repulse me. I. have had recourse to a ruse. I have deceived your servants and sent them away, and here I am.”
FANNY:
“I cannot understand you, much less measure your stubbornness, but, if I have kept secret what I know about you, my formal refusal to see you should show you that your presence is importunate and odious to me. I turn
