During this operation Madame Thomas howled and groaned like the doomed souls in hell. This excess of passion brought her into a frenzy which normally can be caused only by terrible torture. She nevertheless succeeded in regaining her senses somewhat. “Aaah, my heavy sausage!” she hollered loudly, her voice interrupted by deep and heavy moans… Stop it! You are killing me… I'm dying. Oh, my darling billy goat… I love you… You are doing it so good Come on, dear heart, gold piece of my soul!.. Ouch, you damned son of a whore! You dog! Don't stop it now… you're tearing me apart! Oh, forgive me, my sweet friend… have pity upon me… I… can … no… longer… bear… it!
I must admit that I did not have the strength to view this passionate scene in cold blood. I was just about to use my forefinger as a rather meager substitute when I noticed a candle upon an old portable organ standing in the corner. I grabbed hold of the towering object and shoved it as deeply as I could into me without taking my eyes off the actors in front of me. Though I did not entirely extinguish the fire which consumed me, it sufficed at least to dampen my ardor a little bit and thus I acquired some release.
One should not be too surprised that Madame Thomas showed little shame during the execution of this immoral act, even though she must have known that I was in close proximity. In the first place she was in no position to think about the proper rules of behavior, and secondly even if she had been able to do so there was no reason for her to take my tender feelings into consideration since she had been fully informed about my profession. The question was whether she wanted to prove to me that she trusted me completely and wanted to become my friend or whether it was sheer debauchery and she wanted to find delight in the viewing of a similar slippery scene as she had just finished playing, but it is a fact that she pulled Brother Alexis' still steaming monstrosity out of his trousers again and pressed it into my hands. Even if I had wanted to put on a demure demeanor, I would not have had the time to do so. The lustful monk pushed me back upon the bed and made a face mask out of my skirt. His horrid, turgid firebrand which barely missed its goal gave me such a tremendous jolt against my belly that I feared it would spill my innards. The Samaritan Madame Thomas, who was witness to my torture, had the tender decency to help me. It was only because she pulled and jarred the rebellious instrument with all her power that it finally and happily disappeared into the cunt-hole. Since I was quite incapable of showing him my gratitude in a loud voice, my rapid pelvic movements which I performed without stopping must have left him without a doubt that I was greatly appreciative of his behavior.
The tireless friar remained unperturbed in the saddle and he reciprocated every single one of my convulsions with a rapid counterthrust. His jolts were so overpowering that on any other occasion the mere thought of it would have scared me, since I was afraid that the floorboards were about to collapse. But passion had made me lose all fear. After all, a fireplace belongs in every home and I did not have the slightest reason to be worried. This much is true: there are moments when women become truly courageous. I cannot remember that in all my born days I ever made sport with so much abandon; all I needed was a partner like Brother Alexis to remain triumphant and in control of my passions. I became a true demon. I had crossed my legs behind his knees and embraced his hips with my arms, forming such a strong vise that they would have had to hack me to pieces in order to free him. The glory of claiming victory over me was reserved for him only. What might sound incredible, yes, even unbelievable, was that he succeeded without so much as an interruption to take a deep breath in making me experience thrice in a row the delights of Mohammed's paradise. It should be a lesson to you, oh proud men of the world, that the virile outbursts of this upright man of God make your performances look tepid and can only be contributed to the miraculous virtues of the cloth!
Brother Alexis now had a very high opinion of me after he had sampled some of my talents and he assured me with the voice of a prophet that I would surely become a great success.
“It would be easy to find somebody for you who is willing to keep you,” he said, “but that would not lead to anything solid or promising. You have such a beautiful face and figure that we cannot allow you to get stuck in mediocrity. If I am not mistaken, the only proper place for you is the Opera. I will make it my business to give you an introduction. The only question is whether you have an inclination toward singing or toward dancing.”
“I believe I would have more success as a dancer,” I answered.
“I believe so, too,” he replied, and covered my legs up to the knees. “These limbs are created for such a task and you can take my word for it, they will keep the monocles in the parterre fully occupied.”
CHAPTER TEN. THE OPERA
Brother Alexis was not a man of false promises. He immediately proceeded to write a letter of introduction to a certain Monsieur de Gr.. M…, who was at that time the leaseholder of all the charms of the girls at the Theatre Lyrique. The next morning Madame Thomas loaned me the necessary odds and ends; I dressed myself up as carefully as I could and before the afternoon I carried the letter to his address.
In front of me stood a tall, thin man with a leathery face whose phlegmatic expression exuded a coolness that went through bone and marrow. He wore a flattering morning robe but no trousers. A slight breeze played with his shirt and showed now and then two strong, cadaverous, bony thighs between which the limp relics of his manhood dangled downwards.
I noticed how his eyes occasionally glanced over me carefully while he was reading the letter and how his stern face gradually brightened. I took this for a good omen as far as my opportunities were concerned and I was not mistaken. Monsieur de Gr… M… invited me to sit next to him and mentioned that a girl as pretty and well-built as I was had no need for an introduction. But he would seize the opportunity to render a service to the public by presenting a find like me. While he was praising me with so many beautiful words he was also taking a thorough inventory of my most secret charms. And since the spirit of wickedness awakened his lechery step by step, the whoremaster pressed his lamentable flacidity into my hands. Now my time had come to employ all the knowledge I had gathered in Madame Florence's house at such a great expense, to see if I was up to the task of reviving this formless mass. Since it seemed to be totally impervious and insensitive to my rubbing and pulling, and even the squeezing of the testicles bore no results, I started to doubt if my efforts would ever become successful. I had almost given up when the idea hit me to tickle his anus and sodomize him with my fingertip. The unconscious engine suddenly jumped up out of its lethargy and developed such a remarkable manner that it seemed almost to become an entirely different being. To fully employ this precious moment and to crown my most important job, I moved my closed hand so enticingly yet firmly up and down that the monster was overpowered by the sweetest sensations and ejected big tears of gratitude which I kissed away.
Finally Monsieur de Gr… M…, who was ecstatic about the method I had employed, dressed hastily and personally took me over to see Monsieur Thuret who was at that time the director of the Opera. I was very happy that this gentleman liked me at first sight. Without thinking twice he allowed me to join the ranks of the charming young ladies of the Academie de musique royale and also invited us to dinner.
Since I prefer to bring variation into my recountings and descriptions, I will not bore you with an account of what happened that evening between Monsieur Thuret and me. Suffice it to say that the man was as horny a goat as Monsieur de Gr… M…, and it was just as difficult to get him into action.
I went back to Madame Thomas' to go to sleep but she was still awake and impatiently burning with the desire to find out everything that had transpired from Brother Alexis' letter. The next morning I moved into my new home, where I did not have to be afraid of police interference any longer.
Aside from the training in the storehouse, where I never failed to show up, I also received private lessons from “Malther the Devil.” I progressed so rapidly that within three months I was able to stay reasonably on my toes during the ballet.
The day of my first performance was marked by a rather funny interlude. One of my colleagues had been caught in the theater while committing a deadly sin. The female part of the conclave barely had time to digest this tidbit of news when they clamored for a severe punishment to give all of us a frightening example. The delinquent appeared before the tribunal of Monsieur Thuret to hear the verdict. The supervisor, La Chamaree, was willing to show mercy. But Madame Cartou, who was closely watched by her fellow-jurors, the ladies Fanchon-Chopine, Desaigles and Mother Superior Carville, declared that the consequences could be very dangerous if such missteps were forgiven; novices could be encouraged by lack of punishment to commit monstrous excesses, and might even cause a revolt among the girls of the Opera comique. She added that it was unforgivable and dishonorable to allow such indecencies to happen in this theater which, ever since its foundation, had been a model for the most tender
