loitered and found her way. down to the Volga. She sat down on the bank of the river, let her eyes go over the wide plain and observed without much attention the peasants harvesting the fields. The waters of the wide river flowed in an easy rhythm. Far away some boys and girls were swimming.
Grushenka dreamed as only a Russian peasant can dream, a thoughtless and wordless dream, uniting herself with the soil, becoming a part of it, losing the sense of place or time. When the sun dropped lower on the horizon, she got up and slowly returned to the city. She stopped in a public house where she ate a bowl of soup and some bread and cheese. The few customers and the innkeeper hardly noticed this peasant girl with her lovely face hidden beneath a kerchief. Back again on the street, she pulled herself up with an energetic nod of her head and walked with quick steps to Ladislaus Brenna's bathhouse. She had never been inside that place, but she knew all about it. Ladislaus Brenna ran a famous bathing establishment for middle-class people, and Grushenka had made up her mind to become a bath attendant. She would have liked to get such a job at one of the new and elegant bathhouses patronized by the fashionable world but she did not dare to do so, for she might be found out. No one 'would look for her at Brenna's. After she had opened the door, she stood immediately in a big bath hall for men. The hall took up the whole ground floor of the building. On a white, wooden floor stood forty to fifty wooden bathtubs in irregular arrangement. In these tubs the bathers sat on a little bench, the water coming up to his neck. A few customers were bathing; others were reading, writing on little boards put over the tubs, playing board games with each other or just chatting. Mr. Brenna sat on the opposite side of the room behind an elevated bar which was covered with all kinds of refreshments and drinks. Grushenka lost no time but went right over to him while the eyes of all the bathers and attendants followed her. She stated without shyness that she wanted to become one of his bath girls.
Brenna looked sharply at her and told her to wait He was a whale of a fellow, about forty-five years old. His hairy chest, open to view, and his wild black beard exaggerated his tousled appearance.
Grushenka sat down on a wooden bench and looked around with curiosity. She had often heard Brenna's place discussed. It was supposed to be full of fun for its visitors, men and women alike, but most housewives disapproved violently when they heard that their husbands or grown-up sons frequented it. Grushenka's attention first was directed towards the bath attendants, about ten girls, some sitting on a bench near the big open fireplace, others moving about the big room pursuing their duties. All the girls were nude except for wooden slippers and here and there a short apron or towel around the hips. Any land of clothes would have been annoying in this air heavy with steam and dampness. The girls were all husky and rather good looking and seemed in good spirits and satisfied. They carried buckets of hot water to the occupied bathtubs, pouring the water in to keep the temperature even. They brought beer or tea or other refreshments to the men, laughed and joked with them and did not seem to mind when the men felt their breasts or in between their legs. When one of the customers wanted to get out of his tub, they opened up the linen top, placed a foot stool and helped the man out. Then they followed him into one of the many cabinets which lined the walls. The cabinets had doors which closed behind the pairs, and, while Grushenka could not see, she could well imagine what happened inside them. The last customer having left, the girls began to clean up while Brenna admonished them to take their time and do a thorough job. He had a gruff voice but underneath one could feel that he was a good sort. At last he turned to Grushenka and ordered her to follow him. They went upstairs, passing the women's bath hall on the second floor and passing the third floor where Brenna lived with his family. When they reached the attic, Brenna pushed open a door leading into an unoccupied room furnished with a large wooden bed, a washstand and two chairs. “Well,” he said, “I will look you over to see whether you are strong enough to carry the water and to give a massage. I could use a bitch like you, but you seem too weak. Show me what you've got.”
With that he went to the little window and looked out into the twilight. His huge frame in front of the window shut almost all the light from the room. Grushenka quickly got rid of her clothes and stood nude in the middle of the room, waiting for him to pass his judgement. She was now a bit nervous. What would happen to her if he did not employ her? Brenna gazed for awhile out into the sunset.
Finally he turned around to her, moved away from the window and put her in a position where the slowly fading light fell directly on her.
He was amazed at her fine figure. Her full breasts especially attracted him. He felt the muscles of her arms and pinched her buttocks and flesh above the knees the way one feels the leg of a horse, while she contracted her muscles as well as she could in order to appear strong. He moved her around again, uncertain whether a girl with such a small waistline would be suited to his type of work, and fixed his eyes on her Venus' Hill. Grushenka was a well built girl, above medium height, but before this giant of a man she felt rather small just when she wished to be big and strapping. Without warning he threw her on the bed so that she lay, not lengthwise, but across the bed. He opened up his linen trousers and took out a mighty and hard-blown staff. Grushenka hardly had time to be aware of what was coming when he bent forward, rested his weight on his hands next to her shoulders and moved his weapon towards her grotto. She lowered her hands to insert the shaft and was surprised at its huge dimensions; she could hardly span it with her hand. She wanted to insert it carefully, but before she had a chance he pushed it in with a mighty stroke. Grushenka answered with a heavy groan. Not that it really hurt her, but it filled her to the utmost and stretched her passageway to the limit. It was a few days since she had had intercourse, and the scenes which she had watched at Madame Laura's had served to stimulate her desire. Therefore this unexpected attack brought her to a fever heat. She raised her legs, which still hung on the floor, high above his massive back. She thrust herself against his instrument with all her power, encircling it with the full suction of her love nest She crushed her fingers into his muscular arms and began to make love to him with everything in her. She closed her eyes.
All kinds of lascivious pictures went through her mind. She remembered the first time that she had been flogged on the bare bottom when she was fourteen years old; she thought of the peasant who had raped her, and of various men who had given her satisfaction; finally the angelic features of her Mihail stood out clearly, telling her in sweet words how much he adored her. All this time she was working with strong pushes against those of her partner, while she circled her bottom the way belly dancers do. Gradually her whole body became more and more contorted until only her shoulders touched the bed as she strove to find the best position in which to achieve the greatest satisfaction for herself and for her partner. Her body was covered with sweat.
Her hair became loose and partially covered her face. Her mouth twisted, her heels beat his back and his buttocks. At last, with an outcry, the great climax came. Then she lay motionless, heavily breathing, all muscles loose. Her buttocks dropped and the great bird fell out of its hot nest. Brenna lay on his hands, hardly moving.
He was satisfied with the vitality which this girl displayed-so satisfied, in fact, that he was not ready to let her go right now, especially since his instrument still was as swollen and red as it had been. “Eh, little hussy,” he interrupted her after-love dreams, “don't stop now. My little fellow down there is still stiff and angry.” Grushenka opened her eyes to find herself staring into a gruff face surrounded with flowing black hair. An utterly strange face it was to her, with black eyes, a short broad nose and full lascivious lips. Still, somehow, there was a sense of humor about it which took the sting out of its roughness. She gazed into this face and it came to her mind how much depended for her on satisfying this man. By her uncontrolled passion she had given him a wonderful time. Now she would give him a still better time by her thorough knowledge of the art of love-making. Dutifully she put her legs up on his back, this time moving them even higher, so that she almost touched his shoulders with her heels-whereby Master Priapus slipped back of his own accord into his former kingdom. She grasped his head with her hands and moved it down. His feet slid slowly backwards and he soon lay with his whole weight on her. She now lay on her back at full length and so had better means of wiggling her buttocks under him.
Then she arched herself under him and, moving her right hand down, managed to get hold of those two storehouses of love's nectar. She proceeded to caress and finger them with soft strokes, at the same time tickling the inside of his ear with the little finger of her left hand. Brenna put his right hand under her small buttocks -so large was this hand that he was able to hold both cheeks with one clasp-and began in slow strokes to do his work. He pushed his scepter so deep inside her that it touched her womb, moved slowly back to the outer entrance and repeated this play in regular rhythm. She moved her buttocks in circles with her eyes wide open. She was aware of every move and this enabled her to give him her fullest cooperation.
When he got really excited, he forgot himself completely. He got back on his feet, standing close to the bed, and raised her buttocks up so that her head and shoulders hardly touched the linen. Holding her by her hips, he connected with her only by the contact between Priapus and Venus and he made love to her with all his might. She felt him reach his climax. She felt a hot flood shooting into her, and, strange to say, she reached another climax. As unexpectedly as he had attacked her, Brenna now let her go. Her buttocks fell to the edge of the bed. In a matter-
