As I have said before, I do not regret the life that I have led. But I do regret the cause. I do wish to state here, however, that I am convinced that today there are thousands of girls, in the lower as well as the upper classes, who, as children, go through the same experiences which I have so far recounted; and later become honorable girls-good, true wives and mothers-who completely forget the mistakes of their childhood days. Now to resume with my story. My brothers had gone out as apprentices, Lorenz to learn the same trade as my father. Franz to become a bookbinder. I saw them only on Sunday afternoons. Lorenz rarely talked to me, but Franz told me that he had met a servant girl who let him poke her and that he could sleep with her nights if he liked. My family had at this time a roomer, a quiet old man, who left the house early and returned late. I slept on the lounge, while my mother's bed, still unoccupied, stood beside father's. One day father said, with reference to the episode with the teacher: “I should give you a good thrashing. You are a dirty little wench!” This was the only time he ever mentioned the matter. I was shocked. “But,” I replied, “I could not help it!”
“Well, yes,” he said, “I suppose that is so. But such a dirty pup!” And he continued: “Well what's done is done, but, from now on, I will watch you. You will go nowhere without my permission, and from today on, you will sleep there-” pointing to mother's bed, next to his own. “We always have a roomer and I am going to watch you.” So that night I slept in mother's bed, next to my father's. When he came home from the saloon, it was probably eleven o'clock. I did not wake until I heard him whisper: “Are you there? Do you hear? Are you there?” Half asleep, I answered: “Yes, father, I am here.”
“Where are you?” “Here, father, I am here,” I answered.
He reached over and touched me. “Oh, yes-there you are!”
His hand slid down my throat, where he had first touched me, to my breast. I was paralyzed, as he began to feel my titties. I lay perfectly quiet. “So, then,” he stammered, “that is where the teacher held you?” “Yes, father,” I whispered. There also?” taking hold of the other breast. “Yes, father.” “The scoundrel,” he went on, “the dog. He would like that.” But all the time he was playing with my nipples. “How exactly did he do it?” he asked. “Just as you are doing it,” I stammered. Running his hand under my nightshirt, he caught hold of my mound. Playing in the hair with his fingers, he whispered: “Pepi?” “Yes, father?” “Pepi, did he feel down here, too-?” “Yes, father, there too!” “Perhaps even with his shaft-?” I was so choked, shocked and frightened at all this that I could not speak. Since father knew everything, I could not imagine why he was asking me these questions. Had he forgotten, or, was he doing all this for some other purpose? He repeated: “I say with his shaft, did he touch you here?” “Yes, father.” “In there-?” He tried to push his finger in. But I pushed his hand away. “But, father?” I said. “I want to know,” he whispered, again taking hold of me. “But father!” I begged, “don't do that!” He had his finger in the “opening” now. “Father! Stop!” I whispered. “You know that he 'had it in.' Please!-Stop-!” I whispered. “Did he poke you?” he asked, pushing his finger still further in. “Yes!” I said quickly, “he poked me-I could not help it!” “That is your good fortune,” he grumbled, leaving me alone. He then turned over and went to sleep. For a few nights we slept quietly in our respective beds. He did not touch me again. I had nearly forgotten the incident When I did think of it, I laid it to the terrible rage which I thought he must have harbored against the teacher. Then, one Saturday, we had been in the inn. As we went to bed that night, father again reached over. “You-,” he said, as he took hold of my breasts. “Yes, father!” “How often did the teacher poke you-?” “I don't remember.” “Well, how of ten?” “But I can't remember!” “I want to know!” He squeezed my breasts so hard that I screamed. “But, father-!” “How often-?” “Perhaps ten times-” “So? Ten times, eh?” He played with my nipple until it got hard. “Ten times?” he suddenly asked. I had to smile. “But, no, each time only once.” “So; ten times?” He fingered my nipple until it stood out straight. became curious and quite passionate, but so ashamed that I pushed his hand away.
“Now, father-stop!-What are you doing?” “Nothing-nothing!” he murmured and withdrew. For a few more days nothing occurred. I was usually asleep when he came into the bedroom. It never entered my thoughts that he wanted anything else. I just imagined that he could not forget the teacher. One evening, we retired early. Reaching over and feeling for me, he said: “What have you been doing all day?”
“Nothing, father,” I answered. He reached into my nightshirt and I covered my breasts with my hands. “Were you in school?”
“Yes.” He tried to push my hands aside and reach for my breasts. “Have you a new teacher?” “Yes.” “Well, does he fondle you too?” He caught hold of my breast and began playing with it. “No, father.” “And about the other teacher?” “We have a woman teacher.” “So? And the other teacher? Does he do anything to you?” I tried to force his hand away, saying: “No, he does nothing. He is still in prison. Remember?” With a quick movement, he reached between my legs. Before I could prevent it, he held my cleft in his hand. “I beg of you father,” I cried. “Father!” I breathed hard. He was tickling me. I became hot and passionate.
“You know,” he stuttered, “if the new teacher should begin to play with you”-he began to drum on my twig-“If he should really try anything like this"-he tried to get his finger in my 'opening'- “don't you let him!” “No, father, no-but now-stop!” And I closed my legs together. With a quick jerk, I freed myself. “Well, well, that's all right,” he said. I still had no idea of anything wrong. I was only afraid of myself. His actions made me so passionate that I wanted to be poked. The longing for a shaft became so great that I could hardly control myself. But I was afraid that he would kill me if I made the wrong move. I thought that he was only trying me out to see if I would resist temptation. But a few nights later, when I awoke from a sound sleep, he lay close beside me. He was carefully playing with my nipples until they were hard and standing out I acted as though I were asleep. I was filled with curiosity, anxious to see what he wanted. I remained perfectly quiet. He took my left nipple and began to loss and lick it. Unwittingly I began to tremble-more with passion than curiosity. He again started to lick and suck. Then he began fooling with both titties. Every time that I trembled he stopped. I thought that he was trying to find out if I was awake, but I pretended to sleep harder than ever. Suddenly he lifted the bed covers and raised my nightshirt. My heart beat loudly. I was afraid and very passionate but still I believed that he was subjecting me to a new test It was such an unheard of performance that I was beside myself with excitement. He sat up and slowly spread my feet apart. I let him proceed without resistance, but, as he put his hand on my slit I began to tremble, so he stopped again. I now began to snore, acting as thought I were not aware of these actions. He got between my legs, bracing himself on his elbows. He slowly rubbed his shaft against my slit. I could not resist that, but, as I began working up and down, I continued snoring and acting as thought I were performing the act in my sleep. Father held his lance up against my lips barely getting the head in. By now I was so excited that I was nearly crazy. But his action caused him to go oft, suddenly wetting my hair and belly with his discharge. I was left frustrated.
I was now convinced of what he wanted, and I was delighted I must admit, painful as the recollection of the incident is to me now. I thought so little of it at the time as not to wonder if it was right or wrong. I knew that it pleased me and I felt that I was now grown-up and did not have to fear my father any more. I was independent.
The following night I did not fall asleep, but made believe that I was asleep. As I expected, father came in. He looked to see if I was asleep and, satisfied from my regular breathing that I was, he undressed. Raising the bedcovers, he got into my bed and, lying by my side, carefully covered both of us. He then lay close to me and suddenly raising my nightshirt-I felt his shift stiffen-pressed against my naked thigh. Edging my gown higher and higher until it was around my neck, he began playing with my titties. This aroused my passion. I was afraid that he was going to play around the outside again, and that I thus would be cheated out of my share of the pleasure. Still I did not dare to make any advances. Sliding his hands down, he parted my legs. This was easy, for I had partly spread them already. Then he touched me with his fingers, and I did not resist. Instead I began to help him. I knew that from the night before he thought that I was asleep. My movements got him so excited that he immediately got on top of me and when, he started poking around my well with his lance, I got so passionate that I could not resist. I kept moving around in order to get it inside me.
Whether he thought that I was asleep or completely forgot himself, I do not know. But he also began to work and, with one quick push, he got it in as far as it would go! The sensation was so delicious, that I unthinkingly said: “Oh!” Father now lay quiet, his shaft still sticking in me. I knew that I had nothing to fear, and, acting as thought just awakening, I said: “Father! What are you doing?” At the same time I slowly ground my hips in a sensuous circle around his delicious shaft. He was frightened, but did not leave me.
“Father!” I whispered again, still writhing. “For goodness sake, what are you doing?” He did not answer. “Stop, Father! Stop! What are you doing?” And, as I spoke, I began to writhe more vigorously. “Nothing!” he whispered, “Nothing! I was asleep!”
“But, father, what are you doing to me?” “I did not know it was you!” he said, as an excuse. “Yes, father it is! It is I!” I cried, each time giving a harder push. He said nothing. “Why!” I continued. “Father, you are poking me!” And I put my arms around him.
He caught my breast, and, without further words, started to work with furious strokes. Holding him tight, I whispered in his ear:
“This is a sin-father! I am afraid-but oh! father-I love you-faster-faster-faster! There-that is good! But I am afraid-oh, father-!” “That's all right,” he answered. “Nobody knows it, and nobody will find out.” “No,” I said. “No-I won't say anything!” He pushed hard. “That is right. You are a nice daughter!” I asked: “Father is it good for you too-?” “Yes! Yes!” And he again put his mouth on one of my titties. “Whenever you want to, father-” I whispered. “You can poke me all that you want-!” “Keep quiet!” “Father-I am 'coming'. Faster-faster-oh, now!” I was happy. I had waited so long, and now I was satisfied. “Father, are you 'coming' too-?” “Yes, now. Now!-Pepi!-Now-Oh! But that feels good!” We both “went off” together; then, in each other's arms, we went to sleep. The next day father was very shy. He talked in low tones, never looking at me. I went out and waited for the evening. As we went to bed, I crawled over him. Placing his hand on my naked titties, I whispered: “Father, are you angry at me?” “No,” he answered, “I am not angry.” “You did not speak to me today.”
“I have been thinking,” he remarked. “What about, father?”
“Well, I think,” he answered, stroking my titties, “that if the teacher could do this, then it is all right for me.” I reached down, took hold of his shaft, which immediately stood like a soldier at command. It occurred to me that I was created from inside this same shaft. “Father, if you would like to have me again, I will let you,” I said. “In God's name,” he gasped. I then got on top of him and began riding him. He held my breasts. We soon finished another “turn.” My father now was very friendly. During the day, every time that he came near me, he patted my titties, and I, in returned pinched him in “front” He talked about his business, the running of the house, money matters, etc. He bought me new clothes-in fact everything that I could wish for, and even allowed me to keep the rent from our roomer and I felt quite grown-up and very important.
I once asked him: “Father, do you remember what else the teacher had me to do for him?” “No, what was it?” “Shall I show you?” “Yes, I am curious to know.” I put my head down, took out his shaft-which was now limber-and began to suck on it. “Is that good?” I asked. “Yes, that is very blissful and good! Keep it up!” “Father,” I lied, “the teacher did something else to me too.” “Do you want me to do that, too-?” he asked. I nodded.
He threw me across the bed, burying his face between my thighs. He then began to suck-my own father-so vigorously that I almost lost my breath! I was immensely satisfied. About this time we changed roomers. The new one was a waiter in a small restaurant. His name was Rudolph. He was a slender fellow with a yellow, sallow complexion and dark eyes. Although about thirty-six, he had only a few hairs on his lips-a poor excuse for a moustache. I disliked him. After the first few days, he tried to feel my breasts. He eyed me with scorn then, holding me, began pressing my titties. Enraged, I struck at him and kicked him until he had to let me go. “Well,” he replied nastily, “I suppose that only a teacher can touch the young lady?”
“Hold your tongue!” “I see! I see! Only learned men may poke you!” “If you don't keep your mouth shut,” I shouted, I will report you to the police.” He turned pale and, in a rage, finished dressing, throwing his things around in his room. Angrily putting on his hat, he came closer to me and whispered: “Wait! You threaten me with the police, you bitch-just wait! You will beg me to do you the honor some day!” Several weeks later I was washing myself, wearing only an undershirt. Father was just leaving, and he quickly bade me farewell. Reaching into my shirt, he quickly fondled my breasts. At that instant, Rudolph opened his door. Father quickly withdrew his hand. Rudolph meekly asked: “Pardon me, could I have my breakfast earlier? I have to go to the magistrate.” We hoped that he had not noticed anything, but when father had gone and I went into the kitchen to prepare Rudolph's breakfast, he grinned and asked: “So-your father may play with your titties?” “You lie!” I answered, blushing. “But I saw it,” he said. “You saw nothing of the kind!” I shouted back at him. “Father said only that I should wash myself better.” He laughed out loud. Walking to the sink, he quietly took out his shaft and began washing it, saying: “I must wash myself better, too!” He then came towards me and continued: “Yes, I must wash myself better, because today or tomorrow Miss Pepi may ask me to poke her!” I laughed with scorn and he left. But it was he who laughed last. Weeks passed. Rudolph seemed not to notice me. Father and I enjoyed ourselves-not every night, but quite often. We had tried every way which I had learned. Living in this way with father, I remained away from all the others. Only twice did I go to see the priest, and then intending only to go to Communion, not to be poked. The first time that I went to him, I found a little, seven-year-old girl in his room. He had completely undressed her. She smiled at him, lying there on his bed. As I entered, the father was licking her little grotto with his tongue-an act which the little tot greatly enjoyed. (She later told me that her uncle and the butcher did “that” to her too; of course they could not poke her.) His Reverence did not try to poke her, but as a precaution that she might not sin in the future, he was “just cleansing her.” I arrived just in time. I lay on the bed and he gave me a good poke! Then he dismissed us both. The second time Father Mayer and I were alone. I confessed my relations with my father. Clasping his hands, he said: Then you are lost!” I did not believe this nonsense any more, but I played my part in the comedy. I decided that I would earn his “absolution” at any cost. “I will do penance, your Reverence!” I said solemnly.
“What do you mean, 'penance'?” he asked. I knelt before him, took out his shaft and began licking it and sucking so hard that he trembled like a kettle of boiling water. I pushed his holy “wand” away back into my throat. He stopped, lifted me up and said: “Come!”
I turned around. Raising my dress, I reached back and pushed his “holy stem” into me from behind. I worked so hard and fast that he could not hold back, but “went off” in a few minutes. But I did not rest. Immediately I began to play with him again, sucking and using all the known arts. I soon had him going the second time.
We parted the best of friends. My sins were all “forgiven.” I had only to promise to have nothing more to do with father sexually-which I readily promised, knowing that I could easily get his forgiveness every time that I broke the promise. After our first great passions bad been satisfied, father made it a rule to poke me only on Sunday mornings before getting up. This was the custom among all the working classes, for the men were tired during the week, but, on Sunday morning, after a good night's rest they were raring to go. So now I very seldom got a “piece” during the week or at night unless I begged for it. Father seemed to be in the best of humor in the morning while he was dressing and I was preparing his breakfast. I wore no clothes except a chemise or possibly a short skirt. He always played with me a little while before leaving the house. One morning-I think it was a Thursday-we had not done anything since the Sunday morning before. Every time father came near me he felt my breasts. This aroused my passions. Finally, after he had finished washing himself, I was about to air the bedclothes when I passed him and he started to play with my nipples until they got hard. I now was crazy for a good poke. As he stood in front of me in his underclothes, I took hold of his shaft, which promptly shot out straight. After playing with each other a short time, father not thinking, threw me down on the bed, where I was ready to pick up the clothes to take them out for an airing, and we began to indulge in a “little morning exercise.” Father had just raised my skirt and got on top of me when Rudolph opened the door. “Oh, pardon me!” he said, jumping back. We jumped up. Father went out at once. He chuckled: “You have to drag that girl out of bed, or she will not get up.” Rudolph laughed wickedly. Father then came back to quiet me, saying: “He did not see anything.” I did not argue, but I was convinced otherwise. Father had barely left the house when Rudolph stalked in. “Well!” he snapped, “perhaps your father just wanted you to wash yourself better again, today?” I still was clothed only in my chemise and short skirt. I held a towel before my naked breasts.
Tearing it away, he said: “Stop your nonsense. I have no respect for a bitch who puts out for her own father!” “We were not poking,” I replied, denying the truth. “Shut up!” he yelled, “You mean to deny what I saw myself?” “You saw nothing!”
“So-wasn't he lying on top of you when I came in? And, didn't you have your chemise up to your neck?” “No!” I said, but uncertainly. “So? So?” he continued as he came nearer. “I will tell you what I saw: I was outside and saw him put his hand in your chemise. And do you know what else I saw-?” I looked scared.
“I saw,” he went on, “how you took his shaft out of his pants and how he then threw you down on the bed.” I was dumbfounded.
“Well-?” he laughed as he lifted my chin. “Isn't that the truth?”
I looked down and did not answer. “And, now,” he said in decisive and threatening tones, “because Miss Pepi was so saucy and mean to me, I am going straight to the police and report the whole story.” I was not prepared for this. I was seized with a terrible fear. He was pleased at my reaction and tantalized me further, saying: “You will both be locked up-you and your dear papa!” “No!” I called out. “No?” he repeated. “No, well, we shall see! I can swear to what I saw.” And, with that, he walked towards the door, saying: “I will go at once!” I jumped between him and the door. “Please-” I stammered. “There is no use to beg.” he replied.
He reached for the door. I held his arm. “Please-” I begged again. “Please, what?” he said mockingly. “I-won't you forgive me, Mr. Rudolph, for being rude to you?” “Aha!” he mocked, “Now all at once-well- well!” “Don't go to the police, Mr. Rudolph, please.” I burst out crying: “Please don't go, Mr. Rudolph. I could not help it!” “What couldn't you help?”
“What my father does to me.” “So-” he said, stepping up close to me, “on that account you pushed me from you when I wanted to feel your titties?” “I won't do it again!” I cried. “So, now you will let me play with your titties-yes?” “Yes, Mr. Rudolph.”
He took hold of my chemise, tore it open, took out my nipple and began to drum on it with his forefinger. “I may do this now, may I?” he said mockingly. “Yes! Yes!” I said, permitting him to rub against my middle with his stomach. “I suppose now that I may also do this-?” “Yes, Mr. Rudolph!” I was helpless. “And, now,” he grinned, “you would let me poke you-?” It seemed my only hope. “Yes, Mr. Rudolph!” “But I don't care to poke you!” he laughed suddenly. “I just want to go to the police.” I cried and sobbed loudly. Then he went on: “Unless you beg me to poke you-ha?”
“I beg you, please-Mr. Rudolph!” “What's that?” he chuckled, playing harder with my titties. “Please, Mr. Rudolph!” I repeated. “Say it!” he shouted pushing me against the wall.
“Please, Mr. Rudolph-poke me!” I said obediently. “Well, then, come-” He went to the bed, and I followed. “Lie down!”
I obeyed. “Raise your clothes!” Again I obeyed. He looked at me as I lay there, then commanded: “Unbutton my pants!”
I obeyed this order. As I did, his shaft popped out. It was long and white and curved upward. He got on top of me, saying: “And now, you must put it in yourself.” I did as he ordered. I felt a pleasant shock. Also I had lost my fear of the police. I breathed easier. Now he had his weapon almost all in. Still he remained perfectly quiet. He aid, “Now, you must say, 'Please, Mr. Rudolph, push!'“ “Please, Mr. Rudolph-push!” I gladly repeated. My breasts were bare and he played with them a while as he slowly worked his tool inside me. Then he slowly withdrew it mostly all the way. Oh, how I hated him! Yet, I was made passionate from his slow, regular movements. After about ten of these insertions I began to work. I was now enjoying it despite my hate for him, and wondering why I had dreaded him for so long a time. “Oh! Oh!” he said, “now I shall poke Pepi often!” And I answered: “Yes, but harder! Harder! I am coming-oh, yes-poke me often-as often as you please!” “That is right,” he responded. “Now we understand each other, and we will get along fine.” “Oh!” I whispered, “I am 'coming'-please, 'come' too, Mr. Rudolph!” “Take it easy!” he replied. “I have plenty of time.” Keeping up the same slow movement, he then asked: “Do you often get poked by your father?” I lied: “No, this was the first time that he tried it.” Pushing his shaft way in again, he said: “Don't lie!” “Oh, I am 'coming'-I am 'coming' again-” I called.
“Tell me the truth!” he commanded. “Yes! Yes!” I answered.
“So; you and your father poke very often?” “Yes-often-I am 'coming! Again-faster-faster!” “When mostly?” “Mostly at night!” “Since when?” “About six months ago.” “Every night?” “No!” “Does he poke well?” “Yes!” “Better than I?” “No, oh no,” I assured him. “Oh-I am 'coming' again!”
“Do you also take it in your mouth,” he inquired further.
“Yes!” “And you will take mine?” “Yes,” I promised him.
“And does he 'suck' you off?” “Yes!” “Do you want me to do it to you, too?” He kept this up for about half an hour. I fairly swam in my own bliss and juices. At last he stammered: “I am 'coming' now!-Now!-Now!” He filled me with such a discharge that you could hear it gurgle as it ran out of my grotto. “I knew at once,” he said afterwards, “that I was going to poke you!”
“How?” “Because I know at once what was going on when I heard the story about the teacher and then I saw that you slept with your father.” “I can't help it,” I replied, defending myself. “Father said so.” “I believe that,” he laughed. “You won't tell anybody?” I wanted to know. “Of course not, if you will always let me poke you.” “Yes, I will always let you,” I answered. “And, besides-I have known it for some time,” he smiled. “What do you mean?” “Well, your 'doings' with your father.” “How so?” “Because I have watched you several times.” Shocked once more, I said: “When? Where and when did you see it?” “Several times on Sunday morning.” “So?”
“Shall I prove it? Last Sunday you were on top the first time, then you took it in your mouth and then you finished the second underneath-isn't that right?” “Yes,” I said. He got up, saying: “Well, from today on, you are my sweetheart; now I have two.”
“Two?” “Yes.” “And who is the other one?” “You will see her soon enough.” At that he left. After that he came in every morning after father had gone, inquiring: “Well, anything doing last night?” I had to tell him whether I had been poked or not. He also wanted to know whether I was being poked by any other men. I denied this and wisely told him nothing about the priest. He did not stay with me every day. Often he would just play around for a while, telling me: “Nothing doing today. Yesterday I poked my sweetheart. I did not like him except when he was doing it to me. I did not hate him anymore, however. I thought him unusually clever and looked up to him. I went to see the priest about every two weeks. By now my visits were not confession, repentance, doing penance or cleansing. One day as soon as I came into the room, he undressed me, then poked me and sucked me off. I did the same to him. We talked frankly, nothing but smut; since then I treated him as other men, even calling him by his given name. Rudolph treated me well, as also did my father. I wanted nothing more. When father played with my titties while dressing or I played with his shaft, I had nothing to fear for I knew that Rudolph was not watching. Several times I jokingly remarked: “This morning you could have caught me and my father.” And he replied: “Did you go all the way?” “No, but he played with me again.” “Well, let him play-I will not watch anymore. Several times while playing with me father remarked: “Psst! Rudolph might come in!” It was I who quieted him. “Never mind, he is asleep.” One morning, having opened my chemise, Father was kissing and sucking my nipples-an act which, to the present day arouses my passions at once. He was clad only in his nightshirt. I reached for his shaft and, when I stroked it, it at once stood erect. Putting his hand under my chemise, he pushed me towards the bed. I happened to think of Rudolph, and resisted, saying: “No! No! He might hear!” “Nonsense, he is sleeping,” father said, “and I will 'come' quickly!” “Well, come this way!” I did not dare lie down.
“But you will have no pleasure this way,” he remarked. “I don't need any,” I said, anxious not to have Rudolph catch us.
But he would not have it. “No, no, no, come on!” he urged.
Since I was also getting anxious for “it,” I let him throw me on the bed, and, not to waste time, I put it in myself. “Now, father, please push!” He began pushing. “Oh, faster-faster!” I pleaded. “Oh-today it is so good!” he whispered. “I am 'coming" already-now!” I said: “Just one more push-there-there-I am 'coming” too!” I felt him “going,” but just then the door opened. Rudolph appeared and directly inquired: “What are you doing there, neighbor?” Father was non-plussed, but he pushed several times more in his eagerness to finish. Rudolph remarked with sarcasm: “Don't let me disturb you.” Father now jumped up. Pale and panting hard, he stood before Rudolph. Rudolph eyed him sharply. I remained on the bed, not knowing what to do. “Let us cover the girl first,” said Rudolph, pulling down my chemise. Seeing my naked titties, he threw a pillow over them; “Allow me-seeing naked breasts always disturbs me.” Father could not utter a word. Rudolph turned to him and said: “Well, neighbor, what have you been doing to your daughter?” “Mr. Rudolph, you surely do not want to ruin me?”
Rudolph laughed: “Why should I? It is nobody's business if you choose to poke your own daughter. You made her, didn't you?” “Mr. Rudolph!” stuttered father. “I am a widower. I have no more. I can't sweat it out of my hide!”]Well, well, that is all right!”
“Mr. Rudolph, do you give me your holy oath that you will not betray me?” “I could not think of it!” he called, “I will not swear to anything. But I think that we can work something out. I am leaving for a little stroll now. But, when I return, we'll talk it over.” Father whispered to me: “If he reports me, the scoundrel-I'll kill him!” I felt the same way about this matter.
We fell asleep; woke up; fell asleep again, woke up again, anxiously waiting for Rudolph to come home, hoping that father could talk to him. I About three o'clock we heard the door open. “Now he has come,” father said, thinking that I must be awake-which I was.
Rudolph undressed; we heard him fussing about. “Shall I go to him?” asked father. “Yes, try it,” I suggested. Before Father could get out of bed, Rudolph came in. It was dark and we could not see him, but we heard him inquire: “Are you asleep, neighbors?”
“No, no,” father anxiously replied. “I am awake, Mr. Rudolph.”
Without further talk, Rudolph called: “Let Pepi come out to me!” “What do you want?” father asked, sitting up in bed.
Rudolph slowly repeated: “Let Pepi come out to me.” Then, in a threatening tone he added: “Of course you have no objections-”
Father understood and did not answer. Rudolph waited at the door. Finally father whispered: “Well-go, Pepi. We can do nothing else,” he said, down-hearted. I sprang out of bed and ran to the door. “Come to bed,” Rudolph said. We both got in. “So- he whispered, hugging me tight “Now you remain here for half an hour, then go back and tell him that I poked you!” “But aren't you going to poke me?” “No,” he answered. “I just poked my sweetheart twice; I can't do it anymore.” “Nevertheless,” I said, taking hold of his limber shaft, “I am sure that it will go.” “Do you want to?” he said, taking one of my breasts. “I would like to,” I replied.
“I am afraid that I can't, but will try it. Wait-I will show you a way that you will enjoy also.” He had me get on top of him, my head so positioned so that I could take his shaft in my mouth. At the same time he played in my grotto with his tongue. This was something new for me, and I found it exceedingly pleasant. While I played with his shaft in my mouth, he sucked me off, so, I went “off” every few minutes. I was glad to hold his device in my mouth. It hindered my crying out, which I could not help from doing-the feeling was so heavenly! I was glad for father's sake that I could keep quiet. When he finally “went off,” he lifted me so high that I almost fell out of the bed. When it was all over, he said: “Now, go back.” I was afraid. I told Rudolph so. “I am afraid.” “Nonsense!” he said, “if he wants anything, let him come to me. Just tell him that he had sent you himself.” I crept back to our room. Father did not snore. As I got into bed, he asked: “Well, what was it?”
“Nothing,” I whispered. “Nothing? What did he want with you?” “You know, father,” I answered. “Did he poke you?” he angrily asked. “Yes-but you sent me out there!” “He poked you?” “I couldn't help it.” I tried to quiet him. “Come here at once!” he commanded. “Oh, what are you going to do, father?”
He pulled me over onto the bed, spread my legs apart, getting between them. I reached for his shaft, which had never seemed so hard before. “Never mind, father,” I said, “you may do it to me as often as you like. I will never let that scoundrel do it to me again!”
“Shut up, you whore!” he said, and pushed into me a far as his throbbing lance would go. “You are nothing but a whore-and now he poked you too-he too-and did he put it in your mouth, too?” “I am 'coming' father-I am 'coming'-oh!” “I want to know, did he put it in your mouth?” “Yes, father, he did everything!” I told him what he wanted to hear. “He did everything-he put it all over me-he 'sucked me off also-oh, I am 'coming'-faster-faster-!” “And did you 'go off' with him?” “Yes,” I answered. I was embarrassed no more. “Yes, I went off several times!” I had hardly uttered these words when he sent an awful discharge against my womb. Exhausted, we both fell asleep. The next morning nothing was said. Several days passed. Father and Rudolph had not spoken during all this time. Then, one evening we had just finished our supper and father sat smoking his pipe. Rudolph came in. “Good evening, neighbor,” he cheerfully grunted to father, placing two bottles of wine on the table. “Shall we have some wine together?” Father liked wine, so he smiled, saying: “I don't mind.” Rudolph went on, very friendly: “I hope that we are not enemies? What say you-?' “No!” laughed father. “Not enemies. On account of Pepi, you mean-?” “Neighbor, you are a fine fellow-let us be merry. From today on, I am your friend. Let us make an evening of it-are you willing?” “Agreed,” said father, and I began to think that they were both going to poke me. But, Rudolph relieved my mind saying: “Neighbor, you will not object if I invite my sweetheart to be present?” “What sweetheart?” inquired father, astonished. “She is waiting out in the hall,” Rudolph said. “I beg of you to have her come in!” Rudolph and father called us. As we came to them, Rudolph wanted to put his hand on me.
“No,” mumbled father, “I will poke my daughter -my daughter does not have to poke strangers in whom she has no concern.” This angered Rudolph, but Zenzi sat down on his lap and busied herself with his shaft. I did the same to my father. Soon we were all at it. Father reached for Zenzi s pointed breasts, while Rudolph did the same to me. That night we all slept in the two beds in our room. Zenzi and I could not sleep, but the two men snored. After a while, Zenzi asked me: “Do you feel that you would like another poke?” “Yes,” I answered. “But it is impossible to wake them.” That makes no difference,” she said, and laughed. “When he is drunk-I poke him anyway!” She took his shaft in her mouth. It stiffened at once. I did the same to father. Both lances now stood up stiff before us.
“Which one do you want?” I asked her. “Neither!” she said. “1 have had enough. I don't want any more!” “Well, what shall we do?” I inquired. “You take both!” she laughed. Following her directions, I squatted down on father, my back towards his head. Zenzi guided his shaft into my grotto. I began bobbing up and down on it.
“Is it good that way?” Zenzi asked. “Yes,” I answered.
“Wait! I shall how you something,” she said, and reaching down she started to play with my twig. I now danced a regular jig. Father moaned in his sleep. Zenzi started to suck my nipples. I was about to “come” for the second time-when father let go of his discharge. It seemed like a pail full-as though all the wine that he had drunk had suddenly broke loose. “Now come over to Rudolph,” Zenzi cried. She crawled after me, now performing the same duty as before. I soon was jumping up and down again, holding her and singing the same old song, I am 'coming'-oh! Oh! I am 'coming'-I'm 'coming'!” Rudolph ground his teeth and coughed, but did not wake up. He was in a sound, drunken sleep. “I am 'coming' again-oh, Zenzi-I am 'coming,'“ I yelled. “With Rudolph, one always comes,” she whispered. I grabbed her titties. I hardly knew why. I played with them. I felt that I had to do something. Finally I sobbed: “I am through-help me down!” “No,” she said, “you must stay until Rudolph 'goes off,'”-which he finally did, the discharge rising like a fountain inside of me. When the last drop had been spent, we both sank down between the two sleeping men. But the night had not passed as yet. Now Zenzi began to cry: “Oh, my-oh, my-now I want some, too-I want some too!” “Why don't you do the same that I did?” I suggested. “No! No! That is impossible; they will not stand for it!” “Try it,” I encouraged her. She began with father, rubbing and playing with him, finally taking his shaft in her mouth. But it was useless. She could not make it rise. She then turned to Rudolph, who proved equally incapable of rising to the occasion.
Finally she came to me, sobbing: “Oh, Lord! Now I am worse off then before!” I laughed. “You can laugh!” she snapped, “You have Had yours. I was a damn fool for letting you!” I laughed still harder. “But, what shall I do?” she moaned, helplessly moving back and forth. Suddenly she took my hand and put it between her legs, and, begging, said: “You do it to me, won't you?” “How can I do it?” “I want to be poked-come on-won't you?” She lay on her back and made me get on top of her, rubbing her mound against mine for a while. Then she made me put my hand between her legs, using my finger as though it were a shaft. “There-there-that feels so good! Put your finger all the way in-!” She now started playing with my titties, and with her free hand played with my grotto. Finally she said: “I am 'coming'-I am 'coming,' oh-!” I used my finger as best I could. Throwing her arms around me, she hugged me. Taking my nipples in her mouth, she aroused my passion as Rudolph went out and immediately returned with his sweetheart. She was barely fifteen and very pretty, with a turned-up nose, cute eyes and a broad mouth. I noticed that her breasts were unusually large, standing far apart, straight and solid. When she walked, they shook. The entertainment began. Rudolph was very witty. The girl's name was Zenzi; she laughed at everything that he said. The wine started to work. Rudolph, embracing Zenzi, took one of her little titties in his hand, saving to Father: “That is some tittle, neighbor-hard as a rock!” She laughed out loud, and father eyed the tittle in Rudolph's hand. Father did not move. Rudolph released her, and, coming towards me, not noticing father, he put his hand on my breasts, saying: “Yes, Pepi has nice, hard titties too-never any nicer-very nice indeed-just as nice as Zenzi's, only smaller, not so pointed, but more round.” “Zenzi!” commanded Rudolph, “show this gentleman your titties!” Zenzi laughed again. Obediently she unbuttoned her blouse, then her chemise. One breast popped out. It was wonderful! How pointed and solid it stood! The nipple looked like a small teat grown onto the larger one. I was admiring it and did not notice that Rudolph now slipped his hand under my chemise and then on my breasts. “Well, what do you say?” Rudolph asked father.
“Very nice-very nice indeed!” father said. He could not resist putting his hand on the girl's marvelous appendages. He made them bounce up and down. “Enjoy yourself, neighbor!” said Rudolph.
Father now held the breasts. Zenzi stepped closer to him and laughed. “Zenzi!” commanded Rudolph, “play with the gentleman!”
Obediently, she unbuttoned father's trousers; quickly taking out his shaft, she fondled it. Then she looked into father's eyes and laughed. “If you want to poke Zenzi, you may, with pleasure!” called Rudolph. “It is only right, neighbor, since I poked Pepi.”
Father did not reply, but permitted Zenzi to continue rubbing his shaft. “Zenzi,” said Rudolph, “you will let the gentleman do whatever he wants. Do you understand?” Zenzi understood. Raising her dress, she prepared to sit on father's knees. “Zenzi!” called Rudolph, “What do you do first?” Immediately she knelt before my father and his shaft disappeared into her mouth! Rudolph got up. “Now then, I will leave her with you, neighbor,” he said, “and I will take Pepi with me. Are you willing?” Father nodded as if quite embarrassed. However, he got up and threw Zenzi on the bed and got on top of her. She laughed loudly, and with one quick move steered him to the right “place.” Rudolph and I watched as my father began to work. Zenzi now whispered: “Ah, you poke nice-so nice-that's good!” Rudolph and I were very passionate. “Well, now,” he said, “we need not mind them.” Promptly he threw me on the other bed and I felt him pushing his shaft inside me. We were a fine quartette. Father breathed hard: “Give me your titties, Zenzi! Push harder!-There! That is good!” Rudolph coughed. “Heaven and earth-but that is good! That is the way that I like it-go slow-we have time-! I called out: “I am 'coming'-father-Rudolph- I am 'coming'-!” Zenzi whispered: “Oh, poke me-make me a baby-poke me-yes-yes-bite the titties-bite them off-oh, Rudolph!-he is sucking my titties-he is poking me-!” Soon both Rudolph and my father reached their goals. Their bellowing, snorting and coughing mingled with the squealings, sobbings and hard breathings of us two girls. When we had finished, Rudolph called to Zenzi: “Come and sleep with me!” Zenzi got up. Upon leaving, Rudolph remarked to father: “The next 'round' each will have with his own!” Father rolled over to my side and began at one to play with my titties. I got busy with his shaft, trying to bring on another erection. Not meeting immediately with successful result, I turned around, and as I was getting under father, decided to try the new art which I had recently learned from Rudolph. Placing my hips over my father's face, my head between his legs, I licked and sucked his staff. Immediately the tired tool started to stand. We heard Zenzi in the other room, say: “Poke me, Rudi, please-You do it best of all-Oh! Rudi!-Of all the shafts that I ever had, you are the best of all!-Oh, poke me hard!-there!-there-in and out, in and out-ah-ah-I will do anything you say Rudi-oh!-Rudi!” He answered: “Shut up, you goose, and let me poke!” “Does she do it well?” I asked father as he began to work on me. “Yes, very good-so warm-so tight.” “Better than I? I asked, as I moved up and down with my hips. “No, no! Now faster-faster with your hips-oh faster-!” And I answered: “Oh, poke me-oh, please, poke me-there-you do it best that way!” “I just learned that from Zenzi,” father replied. From then on, Zenzi lived with us. She slept with Rudolph in the kitchen and busied herself around the house with me during the day. She was patient and obedient in every way. I soon became accustomed to her. Sometimes she slept with father; on those nights I slept with Rudolph. The two men got along well together and shared us as they saw fit. One day as I was returning home, I found Mr. Horak feeling of Zenzi's titties. Zenzi called out: “Hello, Pepi!” Horak barely noticed me. I found Rudolph in the kitchen. He inquired: “Have you seen Zenzi?” Angry with her for having so thoroughly captivated my ex-lover, I answered: “Yes, down the hall.” “Who was with her?” he asked.
“Mr. Horak,” I replied. “So? What is she doing with him?”
“I don't know-I just saw him feeling her titties.” “Well, well,” he laughed, “if that affords him any pleasure, he is welcome.”
After a long time, Zenzi came in. I expected a scene and listened to them. “Where have you been so long?” asked Rudolph. “He poked me already!” she said, laughingly. “Where?” Rudolph asked, astonished. “In the cellar,” he said. “And?” he pressed.
“Two gulden-there it is-” said she, giving him some money.
Rudolph laughed and then sent her for some cigarettes. A few days later, Zenzi came home at dusk, accompanied by a man. Opening the door slightly, she whispered to Rudolph: “Who is there?” “Come into the other room,” Rudolph told me. As we reached it we heard a man walking into the kitchen. Rudolph and I listened at the door.
Zenzi said to the man: “Make yourself comfortable.” “Oh, no,” he said, “I will just unbutton my trousers.” We then heard Zenzi: “Yes-what a nice little shaft-and how it stands-!” He said: “Remove your chemise from your breasts.” She replied: “Shall I undress?” It would be better,” he answered. After a pause we heard a noise as if someone were falling on the bed.
Immediately we heard Zenzi moan: “Ah poke me-poke me nice-there!” The man interrupted, saying: “Keep still; I can't bear talking while I am poking.” The hog!” whispered Rudolph.
Through listening I became amorous and reached for Rudolph's trousers. He pushed me away, saying: “Stop that! I have no time now!”
In the kitchen the bed was creaking, the man grunting and Zenzi breathing hard. Finally she laughed, saying: “Now, it is over!”
The man got out of bed. Zenzi said: “Now, you are already dressed.” We heard money rattle. Then the man opened the door and disappeared. Zenzi came in, naked and laughing. She handed three gulden to Rudolph. “I got three gulden,” she said. Rudolph put the money in his pocket, saying: “Dress yourself!” She put on her clothes, telling us what a nice man she had had and what a short, thick shaft he possessed. Rudolph interrupted her and sent her for some wine and cigarettes. As soon as she was gone, he asked me: “Now do you want to be poked?” Not waiting for an answer, he backed me against the wall and poked me standing up. Then he said: “Tonight you will sleep with me.” Father came home soon, and he and Rudolph both got drunk. Father was continually feeling under Zenzi's clothes. “I would like to-yes, I'd like to-” he stammered. “Undress yourself!” commanded Rudolph, and she obeyed at once. “You too!” father said to me. I took off my clothes, all of them, the same as Zenzi. We kept up until, finally exhausted, we went to sleep. After that night we were fast friends. I often played with her titties like a man, and she with mine. The next day we slept until broad daylight. Lorenz came home from the shop to find out why father did not come to work. Father told him that he was sick. Without even one look at me, he left.
These drunken orgies now were repeated at short intervals. Zenzi brought men to the house quite often. Rudolph did not work any more.
One day Zenzi came in with a man. We judged from his voice that he was old. When he undressed, Zenzi laughed: “Oh, such a little 'root!'“ The old man remonstrated: “Oh, that is nothing; that makes no difference; when he gets stiff, he will get much larger, all right!” After some time, she called out: “But he won't stand!”
He said: 'It only takes a little longer, but he will stand!”
After another long pause, she said in a whisper: “But I can't any more-my hand aches!” He said: “That is nothing. Take it in your mouth!” She asked: “What will you give me if I do?” “What will I give you? I don't mind-I will give you ten gulden- but take it in your mouth!” Rudolph gulped. “Good God!” he mumbled.
I, too, was thunderstruck at so much money. After a long wait, Zenzi finally said: “Now he is standing-come on-!” We heard them fall on the bed. Soon she laughed: “He has gone down again.”
The man mumbled something. They rolled around in the bed, then Zenzi cried: “There-there -yes, that is good-now faster-faster-!”
Rudolph remarked: “He is 'sucking her off'!” And then Zenzi called: “Come quick, now! He is up again!” They rolled again. Zenzi laughed: “Now, he fell down again!” The old man got mad, saying: “It is not so-just put it in!” The bed shook and Zenzi said: “You have not got it in at all! Let me do it I will get it in!”
The bed shook again. Zenzi sobbed and called: “There-at last-! Now-poke hard-real hard-what? -Through already-?” After that we heard them walking around in the kitchen. Soon the door opened and the man departed. Zenzi came running into the room holding her ten guldens in her hand and handed them to Rudolph. Naturally, that night we had a big spree. We all got drunk. I don't remember what we went through. But the next morning father overslept again. After this happened several times, he finally was discharged. He came home scolding and cursing. But Rudolph comforted him: “That is nothing; you soon will find work in some other place. Rest a few days and then look around. It will do you good to have a few day's sleep.” So father began to sleep and rest. In the morning he remained in bed. Then, when he got up, Rudolph and he played cards. In this way they both killed their time. Sometimes they toyed with Zenzi or me. Father now “used me” almost every night, and, when he was able, he also “used” Zenzi, during the day. He was drunk all the time. One day while he was home, Zenzi brought a man. Now we three stood behind the kitchen door and listened as she did her “business” in the kitchen. Father was astonished. His eyes bulged out as he saw Zenzi come in and hand Rudolph three gulden. A few days later the rental agent called and informed us that he could not allow these doings to continue in his home. We either had to move or Zenzi must stop bringing men into the rooms. He was very polite and especially friendly toward Rudolph. I have no doubt that Rudolph had been bribing him with money. Zenzi only laughed. She probably had allowed him to “use her” on different occasions, or undoubtedly he would have put a stop to it long before. He was very sorry that he was obliged to notify us, he said-but that the order came directly from the owner of the building. When the agent had gone, Rudolph took Zenzi into the kitchen where they had a long conference. They did not come out, but we soon heard them on the bed, and, from the noise and Zenzi's sobbing and hard breathing-we knew what was going on. This, of course, had its effect upon us, so, without any wine and fully dressed, Father and I soon were playing the same “game!” After this Zenzi remained away all day, usually returning late at night, sometimes not until the next morning. If Rudolph was at home when she arrived, she handed him her “earnings.” This interested father greatly. He was always eager to know how much she had earned. Since Zenzi now remained away for days and nights at a time and slept most of the time when he was at home, I had to satisfy both father and Rudolph. Often during the night I had to go from one to the other, and sometimes Rudolph came right in and slept in my bed beside father. Father now,, frequently borrowed money from Rudolph, which he never refused to lend. Father was earning nothing and, naturally, in a short time found himself in all lands of difficulties. Once, when he asked Rudolph for money, the reply was: “Why doesn't Pepi earn some too?”
“Pepi?” father said, looking at me. Rudolph replied “She could easily earn just a much as Zenzi!” “Do you mean for her to become a whore?” slowly asked father. “A whore? Nonsense!” said Rudolph. “She is doing the same as Zenzi is doing now-there is nothing to that!-Thousands of girls are obliged to earn money that way!”
“That may be true,” said father doubtfully, “but-?” “There is no but about it,” continued Rudolph. “Do you think that it is more honorable for a girl to be poked by her own father? Besides, Zenzi does business with only fine gentlemen. She will have nothing to do with ordinary men. Believe me, I have trained Zenzi! The men whom she has dealings with are all gentlemen-a great deal nobler and finer than your daughter's dirty cur!” “The dirty cur!” repeated father, suddenly enraged. “It certainly would not harm her to earn some money for her father! You have surely worked for your children long enough,” said Rudolph. “Yes, you are right,” agreed father.
“Well, then, let Pepi go with Zenzi. I am sure that he will bring you at least three gulden every day. She's such a beautiful girl!”
I felt flattered at this. But fattier anxiously inquired: “But, the police?” “Never mind the police,” said Rudolph. “Have I ever had any trouble with Zenzi? Just leave that to Zenzi-she knows what she is doing.” “But, if it should happen?” said father.
“Well, then,” laughed Rudolph, “just say that you know nothing about it. Say that she went 'wrong' on her own accord. Pepi will not betray you.” I was silent during the entire conversation. In fact, I was not asked any questions. After considering for some time, father remarked: “No, I should hate to see her become a whore!”
“That is not the question,” said Rudolph. “Let her do this for the present, until you get another job. Then she can become respectable again.” This seemed to satisfy father. Rudolph had won him over completely. As a further assurance, Rudolph went on: “I only allow Zenzi to do this when I am out of work. As soon as I have a position, she must behave!” The next day I started out with Zenzi. It had been agreed, and now I entered upon my new career.