and while still sleepy, I found myself lying upon my back. Above me was a man frantically attacking my gem with everything in his power. I uttered a protest. ' Are you discharging, my dear?' inquired Vitnegre. My rider dismounted, and he added: ' Beware lest you cry wolf the moment you see something hairy coming your way. Buck up, my heart. Fist this prick of mine. I' ve a yen to discharge. Tickle my balls with your free hand, that' s it, do what I' m doing to your cunt… fine… splendid… ah!' But ' twasn' t he I fondled, I discovered that afterwards. Someone discharged no fewer than six times in succession. I served that man steadily for more than an hour, and he devoted another to tonguing me. I was at the end of my strength. And then he had me with his mouth and he lost not a drop: he swallowed it all and left me at last.'
I restiffened despite my four discharges and said to my daughter: ' I can bear it not another second, oh, divinely becunted angel. I' ll not try to hide it from you, my delicious little friend. Apart from my passion for you, quite as inexplicable as your beauty, something else powerfully stimulates me. ' Tis the desire to cuckold Vitnegre. Wouldst such a thing were possible without obliterating your heavenly charms. Wouldst that all the men in the world could make use of your cunt that he might be universally cornute! Come, come give me my happiness.' I was bearing her towards the divan when we heard a key turn in the door. I immediately hid myself in the other room. Vitnegre appeared with a young man in tow. We clearly heard him say before entering: ' You' ve got the sort of prick that should fill the bill, and that' s why for six bumfucked louis I' m letting you have a pucelage that' s worth a thousand. Here' s the way we' ll go about it: I' ll precede you and make as if to kill her. You' ll beg me to spare her, and I' ll only let her off if she seconds you in wishing to be encunted by you. My big- pricked clients are all annoyed not to be able to fuck or embugger her. They pay like the devil, you know. We get on very well from what she earns. I feed her excellent dinners.
Look at her: Chubby, wouldn' t you say? But first of all you' re to encunt her, that' s a matter of pressing urgency. Tomorrow you' ll stick it into her ass. That is an operation of secondary importance. Mind you, I adore her. If I treat her a little roughly, that' s only to make her pliable, so that she' ll bend to my will. I' ve earned three thousand francs from her and we' ve not been married longer than three months. Let' s go in now. She' ll ravish you. But show her no pity.' Such was the monstrous Vitnegre' s speech.
We did not wait to greet them. I pushed Conquette ahead of me, out of the house and straight to the pension. She wished however to accompany me back to get Connilette, the whore, an appetizing, welldecked specimen. Conquette preceded us. Fortified by my presence, she opened the door and entered. We followed her. I told Connilette to stretch out fuckably on the bed. My ' daughter' received the two libertines. They found her in superior form. The young man – he went by the name of L' Enfonceur – and Vitnegre himself vied with one another in praising her. Vitnegre, who was mad about her feet thus shod in high- heeled shoes, kissed her nether extremities, saying, ' Ah, that' s it, my dearie, let' s go softly to work. I' d be the world' s most unhappy man if I had to give up the idea of fucking you. You' ve got to be trimmed to measure, or rather enlarged: my prick' s too stout. Unprepared, it would do you damage. Here' s a betterproportioned device, which, without discharging, is going to perforate you. Thus pierced, you' ll manage to accommodate my weightier instrument tonight – and I intend to bury it deep. Here, look at what I' ve brought you,' and he pulled L' Enfonceur' s prick out of hiding. L' Enfonceur? or was in Timon, the modestly- furnished poet? Yes, it seemed as though Vitnegre had not discovered his wife' s predilection for that handsome taffy- haired youth, and he employed him in the following manner.
Upon recognizing her lover in the man her husband was bringing home to encunt her, my daughter blushed with modesty and desire. She found an opportunity to whisper in my ear: ' Tell the whore to leave, we shan' t be needing her tonight.' I saw very clearly that Conquette was in a lather to be fucked by her gallant. I did not send away but concealed the whore, and there follows an account of what took place next.
Just as soon as Connilette was installed out of sight behind the large sofa, Conquette went in to join the two men who conveyed her to the locale selected for sport and had her sit bare- assed down upon their clasped hands. ' Well, my little harlot of a wife, you' re going to be depucelated at long last, thoroughly fucked upon this occasion,' declared Vitnegre. ' But never fear later on tonight you' ll be bale to cope with a thick prick.' He disposed her skirts and adjusted her. ' Excellent. Now, L' Enfonceur, let me put your prick into the works. No, better still, by little helpmate will insert it herself. She must become accustomed to performing these chores.' Vitnegre left the room. I remarked, however, that he had left the door ajar: whence I augured some villainous stunt, but I was there in case of need.
Speaking in a muffled voice, Timon said to my daughter: ' Shall I put it in you?'
' No, no, he' s gone off to get some listeners' – this word sent a chill through Timon. ' But he' ll maim you, you' ll end up a cripple!'
' I don' t sleep here anymore.'
Satisfied by her short reply, the lover set forthwith to tonguing her cunt with great gentleness. The voluptuous girl discharged nonetheless. She was beside herself when I heard Vitnegre return with, I supposed, the monk. He entered rapidly, followed by three neighbors. ' I' m going to show you precisely what I mean,' said he and indeed he showed them something in the room.
At this point, however, my love- smitten daughter, yet impaled by her lover' s vibrant tongue, pronounced a deep sigh. The three neighbors pricked up their ears. ' Why, that must be my wife,' said Vitnegre. ' I didn' t realize she was in the house. I' ve purchased that cloth for her.'
' Oh, but she must see it, you must fetch her in,' chorused the three neighbors. The monster bade them wait a moment – one of the neighbors indeed was about to go in search of Conquette. He took a candle, saying that he would find out first whether she were asleep. He reached the door, halted, and feigned a look of scorn and anger. He drew back, but over his shoulder the three neighbors had seen quite as well and as much as he: Conquette, half- naked, stretched out on her back upon the bed, a man' s head nestled between her thighs. Vitnegre ushered the neighbors out by the corridor, all the while striking his forehead and uttering confused sentences.
He had attained his object: if during the night his wife were to scream and weep, the three neighbors would now know the reason why and would explain it to anyone else. If Madame Vitnegre were to perish, rent asunder by the monk' s claymore (the monk, who was very rich, was to pay sixty thousands francs for his victim, several others of whom he had killed, since he always chose narrow- cunted prey) then it would be she who was in the wrong.
And now Vitnegre returned to the two lovers, who had altered their position. L' Enfonceur, after having spilled his seed upon the floor, had remounted upon my daughter' s belly.
' Ha!' said the infamous husband, ' have you run your peg all the way into her? Encunted her solidly? Have you discharged? And has she?'
' We have both discharged,' replied Timon L' Enfonceur.
' I am going out now,' said Vitnegre; ' keep raking her out while I' m gone. I' ll be back in thirty minutes. Don' t be alarmed by what you are going to hear. I have my reasons for all this.' He went into the hallway, opened the door quietly, and began to shout as if he were kicking his wife about like a football: ' Bitch! Slut! Whore! You fuck when I' m abroad, do you! Slime! Fuck- bibbler! Ass- wipe! You screw, eh! Well, I' m going to the police, do you understand? I' ve had enough of this.' He noisily opened the door, then slammed it, but before departing he whispered to the impassioned couple: ' Wiggle your ass, bounce it, my dearie. Courage, L' Enfonceur, dig in, scrape the barrel clean.' L' Enfonceur, puzzled, watched Vitnegre go.
' A nasty ruse, that one,' I whispered to my daughter. ' The monk plans to kill you, and Vitnegre is neglecting nothing to motivate your death.'
' Save us,' she said, terror in her voice.
' No, we' re numerous enough to protect you. Pretend to Timon that I' m about to arrive here.'
Timon re- entered the boudoir. ' Here is Papa,' said Conquette. ' He' s just come, thank heaven.'
' Ah, yes,' said Timon, ' his presence will shield us, for I was about to propose that we flee from this place. But let' s wait and see what happens.' Timon and I conferred. I pointed to where Connilette lay hiding and outlined our scheme, which he thought marvelous. However, time was rushing by. Timon carried the light back into the boudoir, my daughter and I hid ourselves while the young man and Connilette adopted an intimate posture upon the bed.
' Be careful,' she warned him. ' Keep your prick at a distance, for I' m in bad shape, my boy, don' t let yours balls touch my hair, I' ve got crabs.'
Wherewith Vitnegre and the monk made their entry. The neighbors clustered at the window took the holy man for the chief of police.
