'The baby has been fed,' said Inez, which caused another laugh among the ladies.
'See Zuleika,' said another in an alarmed tone, 'she has fainted.'
Zuleika had indeed become very pale. One gave her a glass of water and bathed her forehead; another took the scarf from her hand and staunched the blood which was flowing from between her thighs. I supported her head on my arm and gave her kisses which before long she began to return. Then she threw one of her thighs over me to conceal the trace of her wound, saying to the lady who had been using the scarf that she bequeathed it to her.
This lady's name was Laura, and she was an Italian. It was the same who had melted at the touch of my fingers during the first story. She was about twenty-four and the most fleshy lady in the room. Her immense bosom and buttocks quivered as she moved, but rounded out again in perfect contour when she was still. She had dimples on her cheeks and chin, dimples at her elbows and knees and dimples at her hips.
Her features were very pleasing, with a rosy mouth, a saucy retroussйe nose and eyes that were dark in expression and shaded by long lashes. She wore her long hair in puffs supported by a tall shell comb — perhaps to add to her height, which was only medium, notwithstanding her enormous weight. Still her waist was not overgrown, and her wrists and ankles were pretty.
'I think I shall have time to tell a long story,' she said, glancing ruefully at the diminished little object between my legs. Amid the titters caused by this remark, she seated herself on the opposite side of me from Zuleika, where she could caress my genitals with one of her hands while she proceeded with her story.
CHAPTER FIVE
I am sorry to confess that I did not possess a maidenhead when I was married. It caused a jealousy and suspicion in my husband's mind which I could not eradicate. When I was a girl of sixteen at school in a convent, one of my companions handed me an improper book. It contained the amours of the ancient gods and goddesses. They were painted so minutely that it left nothing to be imagined, and it so fascinated me that I at once began it.
I retired to my room and bolted my door to devour it undisturbed. I took off my clothes, and, putting on my dressing gown, lay on my bed to read at my ease. Alone as I was, my cheeks burned at the lascivious descriptions in the book. Then I longed to be in the place of one of the goddesses or nymphs in the wanton adventures.
The blood coursed hotly through my veins. I felt the need of something which I never had before, something to quench the seething heat for the first time generated in my loins. I put my hand on the seat of desire; the young hair which grew there had not yet become thick enough to protect the lips beneath from the most casual touch.
They grew sensitive under my hands, and, after I read of the rape or seduction of one goddess after another, my fingers slipped in between the lips and, by a gentle movement, afforded me some pleasure. The motion to be satisfactory had constantly to be increased until I came to the raptures of Venus in the arms of Mars. My wantonness became uncontrollable, a sensation such as was described in the book partially thrilled me, I plunged my fingers in the whole length to complete it and away went my maidenhead.
It hurt me cruelly, but I did not care for that. I knew the irreparable injury which my folly had caused. I was disgusted with my folly and flung the book away. I never put my fingers on that same place again, much less let any man touch me. One night I told my husband all the pitiful truth, but he was still suspicious.
We lived in Naples. He was a professor in the university. He seemed to think of nothing but science. For two or three weeks together he would go to bed with me and rise again without even having put his hand under my chemise, and still more rarely gave me the marital embrace. But I did not suffer myself to care for that.
One day I accompanied him on a journey to another town to look for some rare manuscripts of which he had heard. We were going on a lonely road through a forest when a large and gaily dressed brigand stepped from the woods and stopped the horse.
'Resist at your peril,' he said, pointing a cocked pistol and leading the horse and vehicle into a lonely side path. When we had got some distance from the main road he stopped and ordered us to get out. He fastened the horse to a tree and then procured some cord from his pocket with which he firmly bound my husband's hands behind his back; then, having also tied his feet together, he bound him to a tree and searched him for valuables.
'Now, my fair lady,' said he, approaching me, 'it is your turn.'
'Take my jewellery — it is all I've got — and let me go.'
'Thank you for the present,' he said, 'but you have got something else I prize still more.' Then he put his arm around my waist and attempted to kiss me. I struggled to get free, while my husband alternately cursed and entreated him, but all to no purpose. I tried to get close to my husband, but it only served to make him a nearer witness of what followed.
I was suddenly tripped and thrown on the grass with the brigand on top of me. He held both of my hands on the ground above my head with one of his own; with the other he tore open the front of my dress and explored my bosoms, which he rifled with his hand and sucked with his mouth. Then he pulled up the skirts of my dress and petticoat.
I redoubled my exertions and even got one of my hands loose; but by this time he had forced open my thighs with his knee and lay between them. He pinioned both of my hands as before, leaving one of his hands free to get out his shaft and enter it into me. Then every struggle I made seemed to work him in further. I could only sob with rage and shame. The brigand, with his Herculean strength, did his will with me right before my husband's eyes, who had by this time howled himself hoarse with curses.
Angry and mortified, as I was, it began to feel good. To escape this crowning humiliation I made one tremendous effort to get free. I was pinioned to the ground by a fierce thrust of my ravisher, and then I felt the cream of his strength entering my loins. The sensation almost thrilled me, but his powerful grasp so relaxed that by a great effort I extracted myself from beneath him.
I ran to my husband and began untying him, but the brigand seized me by the wrists and dragged me some distance up the pathway. Then he suddenly thrust his hand into my bosom and gave it a parting squeeze, kissed my averted face and let me go.
I ran back trembling and sobbing to my husband, whom I unbound as rapidly as possible. He unfastened the horse without saying a word or even helping me into the vehicle and drove home in silent and sullen gloom.
It was too cruel. I had been able to endure his suspicions with regard to the loss of my maidenhead, because it had been the result of my own folly. But this dreadful rape had been committed without any fault of mine. He never afterward lay with me or held me in his embrace, although we continued to live together. A young woman in the bloom of vigour and just well enough initiated with the mysteries of matrimony, I was condemned to celibacy. Wanton thoughts occupied my mind until my sheath would throb and its lips moisten and swell with desire for hours together.
I reverted to the means that had despoiled me of my maidenhead, but I was in a state of constant agitation. My husband suspected me; I determined to give him a cause. It seemed as if no one man could satisfy me now; I longed for an opportunity to give rein to my passions.
At this time a Russian fleet came into the harbour. My sister's husband was a naval officer in the harbour and it devolved on him to help entertain the Russian officers. So my sister gave a masked ball to which they were invited. My husband would not go but he made no objections to my attending and staying all night at my sister's house.
My room opened from the passage that connected the ballroom with the conservatory. I procured a long and ample nun's robe which covered me from my throat to my toes; it had also a cowl which concealed my head and face. Under this disguise I had the dress — or rather the undress — of a dancing girl; a vest of cloth of gold and a skirt of the thinnest lawn were absolutely the only articles of which it consisted, besides my stockings and slippers. The vest had no sleeves or shoulders and exposed my bosom clear to the nipples. If I moved quickly the short and gauzy skirt showed my naked thighs.
As soon as the guests began to mingle on the floor I touched the arm of a stalwart Russian officer; he, like all the other guests, was masked, but I knew he was a Russian by his fair hair. 'Follow me,' I whispered. We
