Charlotte lay on the bed leaning on her elbows, her breasts hanging into the hands I had cupped to receive them. She began her story in her customarily soft voice.
“As far back as I can remember I've been seeing my mother cornholed. She was like me; she did everything. From time to time she would bring home a man who would rather be sucked, or occasionally she would come back with a lesbian, and, since even in those days she had more chest than I have now, every Sunday she had a friend that came and made love to her between her breasts. That always amused me because he shot his wad into her face. And once in a while, on a few rare occasions, my mother even did a little fucking, but that was exceptional. Mother was renowned for taking it through the ass. You cornholed her and that was all there was to it.
“In that way, Mama is like me, she never played any other way. Ricette is like that too and Lili will be. Only, believe me, there are days when a young whore can be cornholed by seven or eight men without ever finding one that can excite her. And even if she does find one, there's usually no reason for wetting her nightdress or getting bags under her eyes for him.
“When I was a baby, my mother beat herself off every day on the bed, and not just once, but twice at least and always in the same way; it was always when a man had just left and she was lying completely nude on the bed. She would go to a dresser drawer and take out a candle she'd melted a little bit on the end, or a roller she'd warmed up in the oven, or, later on, a dildoe that she'd bought to screw lesbians with, and she would jam that into her rear. I never once saw her beating herself off without something in her behind. Then she would lie down in the middle of the bed and with her finger… But what more need I say. That's how whores manage to come afterwards.
“Mama always told me that when I was really small she made me suck her come at the same time as her milk. The only thing I can remember is that all through my childhood I used to watch her beat herself off and then afterwards I would go and lick her cunt. And the more come there was, the happier I used to be. She also told me that I was five years old the first time I sucked her well enough to make her come. I can't remember that time, but I know I was very small.
“But you shouldn't accuse my mother of always forcing me to do that sort of thing. I'm twenty years old now, I'm free, and I still do it to her everyday. I still get as much pleasure from it as ever. I quite enjoy sucking her.
“Naturally, I was also Very small the first time she made me taste the come of a man. It seems now that I've always drunk it. I used to lick her when she had it in her hairs, or elsewhere, and I remember an old man who beat himself off in my mouth, but that was a long time ago and I already knew how to suck a dick anyway. It was the first thing J learned. I remember I had a little friend on the same street who was like Ricette. She couldn't suck a cock without spitting out the come. I was very proud because that never happened to me. When I was five or six years old they gave me men who hadn't relieved themselves for fifteen days. I used to swim in it. I let my mouth get too full and I swallowed all the wrong way, but I always liked it.
“When I was eight I lost my virginity in the rear. Mother has always said that I was too old, that it should have happened much sooner. But to prepare me for the occasion she fingered me in the ass for a good week before, and then we had two amusing little ceremonies. The first was in front of a little circle of lesbians who had made a special dildoe for my mother to cornhole me with. They were crazy to see a mother break the cherry in her daughter's rear and when she had finished they were in such a state that they all started cornholing each other with huge black dildoes. I'll never forget that scene as long as I live! There was one young girl there who had never been cornholed by either a man or a woman. She was horribly wounded by their huge instruments and there was blood everywhere. The poor thing's behind was nearly torn out. Oh, I can assure you that you see some terrible things when your trade is a whore's. Even when I was only eight I'd lost my naivete.
“Several days later the second ceremony took place. I was again presented as a virgin before another audience and they had a little boy my age to cornhole me. The poor thing worked with all his might to get a big hard-on. Thus my mother graduated my experiences so that I got used to larger and larger pricks without too much trouble and with never an accident. Never in all my life have I ever bled from behind. I have an asshole made for cornholing.
“And another thing… It's really elemental. Every young girl wants to do the same things as her mother. The little daughters of actresses are wild with joy when they get a part at the age of eight. And the daughters of whores… when they first take a man they think… My dear, I don't really know how to speak well, but I wouldn't want you to think badly of mother because she sold me. You see me like I am. I don't roll around all over you like a monster, and I'm really not vicious, but I can assure you that when I was eight I was the happiest of little girls because I could be like my mother. And the times when she called me into her room and I saw her lying on a bed with a nude man, when I saw that all I had to do to give him a hard-on was to raise my little skirts, I was really happy! I was proud! I would let them stick it into me from my hole to my mouth. You know, a prick is the nicest present you can give a little girl.”
She sighed, turning her eyes away, and saw something she had completely forgotten.
“Oh,” she said. “You've got a hard-on!”
“But you're twenty years old, my little girl.”
“And do you think that that makes me less happy to have made you hard?” she said, throwing herself around my neck. “Why don't you say something? Do you want me to suck you?”
“Yes and no.”
“What do you mean? Lili told us at dinner what she did with you. If you want me to, I'll do the same thing. I'll be overjoyed, in fact, and I hope that you'll like it too.”
She said it so kindly and I had so little imagination myself at that time (what can you do with a girl who doesn't like to fuck?) that I let her do whatever she wanted.
She climbed down into exactly the same position as the first time. If I ever write a novel I'm going to make sure that I vary the positions that the people take in it, but I'm writing this exactly as it happened and there is nothing to be done.
In the same sort of situation (and that is certainly rare enough) women ordinarily can't help becoming passionate no matter what their natural nature. And Charlotte was no exception. She was more ardent and above all more loquacious even than before. She talked unceasingly with a soft, obscene tenderness that it would be impossible for me to try to copy here.
Since she was lying with her back against me, I embraced her and said, “Your buttocks are as pretty as your breasts.”
And that simple little sentence was worth a fleet of words.
“My buttocks? They should be rosy! They certainly want you to stick your cock between them! But don't move! Don't move! We have plenty of time. Let me caress your cock with them since you like them so much… You know, you're very kind to have said that. I think I like my buttocks better than any other part of my poor body.”
“But you're beautiful, Charlotte!”
“No. No. I'm just like the others, only… when I see other good-looking girls, and when I finger myself in front of the mirror, I think… I like to think… that I have beautiful buttocks. But when you asked me first of all for my pussy I thought that maybe you didn't like my ass.”
“But why shouldn't I like it?”
“Because I've got as much hair there as in front. I even have a fine black down that covers half of each buttock,” she said laughing. “But you like it and so everything is all right. And you're getting a hard-on! You're getting a wonderful hard-on, you angel…”
“If you can really say that an angel can get…”
“I have a crazy desire to beat myself off when I feel your cock under my ass like that. But a desire! A real desire! I've already come four or five times today, but that isn't anything. I don't even count any more. The more I beat myself off the better I feel, and when I'm hot, like now, when my snatch is throbbing and my ass is twitching…”
“Yes, I know you now,” I interrupted. “Because if I say to you, 'Charlotte, don't get your snatch or your asshole all excited now. I want to go to sleep,' you will say, 'If you wish.'“
“Oh, if you wish,” she said unhappily.
“And if I say the opposite: something like 'Charlotte, it's only twenty minutes after twelve I've come four times already today, once I went eight and I want to beat my record with you have every vice, every passion, and all the strange manias; but we only need to go five more times and you can leave?'“
“Oh! That! Well, as much as you want!” she said with her calm smile. “Do you want to try? I'm not sleepy.”
All the time I was talking — I've already told you how easy it is to slip into Charlotte's ass — we were united in the position she liked best, and she used all her ability to what, in the last resort, I found very agreeable.
A long deep kiss cut off our conversation, but then, looking at me from over her shoulder with a long smile that, despite the exact similarity of our ages, I can only call maternal, she said in a voice full of sadness, patience, and tenderness with which a professional is permitted to treat an apprentice:
“You have every vice, my dear? You're the victim of strange manias? Tell me all about it! You know that you can ask me anything you wish. Why don't you say something? Are you ashamed? Do I have to be the one who…”
I hadn't said anything because my only vice was fucking and I saw no hope of making her understand.
Charlotte, who was the best girl in the world, misunderstood my silence. With her eyes fastened on mine and an expression on her face that seemed to pardon in advance my most infamous and tyrannical vices, she said easily and without lowering her voice, “Shit in my mouth.”
Even today, I can't understand how I managed to keep myself from leaping up from the bed at those words. I suppose the beginning of our conversation had pretty well prepared me for anything, even that. And besides, the poor girl was so pretty, so kind… She had said that to me simply by chance, one of the most natural things in the world… And despite my stupefaction she insisted.
“Oh, don't think that just because I said that that I'm begging you to. Don't think that I like to do it like Lili does…”
“Lili likes that?”
“Certainly! Lili! What doesn't she like! For me, I only like one thing, that's…”
“Well then?”
“But I'm used to everything. Don't get angry. Later on in the night shit in my mouth. You'll get another hard-on.”
“Charlotte!”
“And besides, I don't know what's come over me. Your cock sets me on fire. I want your shit as well as your come.”
She said these last words in such a strange way that it no longer seemed like Charlotte talking.
So soft before she had suddenly become hard and crude. With her head beneath a pillow, she suddenly came without warning me, spreading her legs so wide that they reached each side of the bed.
The silence hardly lasted a minute; she remembered more quickly than I what we had been talking about. She removed her now red face from beneath the pillow and said, “In the meantime, it's your come that I want in my mouth.”
Already bewildered by what I had just heard, it didn't occur to me to be surprised that Charlotte would suck the cock that just came out of her ass without first washing it. I was becoming used to everything and if I did jump that time it was for another reason.
“Oh, no! You're not going to suck me like that!”
“What's wrong? You afraid I'll catch some-thing?”
“You don't like people to eat you because it I tires you out, and then that's how you suck your friends? Do you want to kill me?”
“Oh! I hate to think what you'd say if my mother sucked you! But how do you want me to do it?”
“Open your teeth, close your lips, don't use your tongue, and… I'll guide you.”
Saying that, I entwined one of my hands into her hair, and, with all her natural docility, she moved as I pushed her and remained still when I told her to.
When she was again lying next to me, more beautiful than ever (for a young woman who has just offered her mouth takes on a certain radiance that she gets no other way), I said to her, “My pretty Charlotte, tell me again a little about yourself.”
“I'm a poor whore who is very happy tonight.”
“Then why do you suck like a young society girl?”
“Are you saying that because I drank it?” she said laughing. “You be quiet. I'm happier to have drunk your come than you are to have been sucked.”
“Again the girlish expressions. You not only suck, you speak like a young girl ready to marry.”
“That's because I've eaten so many women,” she said with a sigh. “I've wet myself with the come of so many virgins that I've begun to look like one myself.”
“Then what you've just said is awfully funny. You claim that you're a slut and a whore, but you certainly don't look like it.”
“Ha!”
And she continued her story.
“So at the age of eight, I was a whore with mama, who was twenty-four. Ricette had just been given out to a nurse and was later sent to a boarding school, so we were alone, mother and I.
“She didn't try to tire me out, only kept me exercised just enough to stay in form: usually about an average of one customer a day. If I did it more often we said that I was 'going out.' If I went two or three days without one, she cornholed me herself with the dildoe so that I shouldn't tighten up. I practically never ate her. She used to say, 'You're kind to want to, my child, but I'd rather finger myself.' I licked her, of course, but only when she'd just finished coming and that was all.
“In those days I had only four costumes that I wore according to the occasion. First there was a little girl's dress, a very elegant thing with a great silken belt. Then a little dressing gown with insertions like those that the whores wear. Then I had a black, schoolgirl's apron. I plaited my hair when I wore that. Finally there was a little boy's costume that I wore with a wig. Those costumes amused me more than the screwing.
“Mother never left me alone with a man. Every time that someone cornholed me she was there to hold my buttocks and to put the cock into my hole herself so that no one would hurt me. And I really took some pricks in those days! It's funny, but the men with the biggest rods seem to be the ones that like to cornhole little girls. But even j so, thanks to mama, I never bled once.
“At the same time, I learned to help my mother, I When someone was cornholing her I would lick his balls or, what Lili does now… It's a little hard to explain… I put my whole hand into stay mother's cunt and took the cock that was in her ass by grabbing the skin that separates the cunt and the asshole. Do you see what I mean? That way I could beat off both mother and the man at the same time. Lili will do it for you tomorrow if you want.
“I lived this sort of life for about a year when I had the strangest experience of my entire life. And I've had some strange ones, believe me! When I tell you about it you'll see what I mean. But you probably won't believe me unless I swear that..”
Charlotte raised her arm.
“I swear to you on my mother's head that what I'm going to tell you is true.
“I was nine years old, and it was in July. We had dinner with a man whose name I know well even now, and at four o'clock in the morning we all three went to bed together naked. Mama was drunk, even though it very rarely happens to her, and I remember that when we got into bed she said, 'Give me your tongue. I'm too plastered to beat myself off.' While I was doing this the man was cornholing me (he was probably as drunk himself as my mother) and he said to me before coming, 'Give your mother a child with your ass. Shit my come into her cunt.'
“Of course I would never have done such a thing myself, but mama had drunk too much champagne, she was in heat, and she was ready to come at any second. The combination was too much; she wasn't responsible for herself at that moment and you can guess what she said: 'Yes!'
“She put her behind up on one of the pillows with her cunt spread wide. You can believe how full my little ass was with come. So I squatted, did what she told me, and since she didn't really think that she could become pregnant like that she didn't go to the bidet until two hours later.
“Well, she was supposed to have her period about two days later and it didn't come. She became pregnant — and pregnant from our little affair all right, because she hadn't fucked for six weeks. And do you know who was born from that little episode? Lili.”
“Does she know it?”
“I'll say she does! There's a kid that I carried! in my behind before my mother carried her in I her stomach. Today there are plenty of sons who screw their mothers and give them children that are both their sisters and daughters at the same time. But they've pissed them from the end of their cocks like their fathers did before them. Whereas I, Charlotte, who don't know how to do anything, even after twelve years of experience, who can only do well what I'm told because I have neither a sou's worth of vice nor a centime's worth of imagination, who couldn't even suck you properly because I don't know how to measure the progress I'm making on a man's dick, I, the poor Charlotte who makes all kinds of mistakes and is now telling you her life story, I gave my mother a daughter when I was only nine years old, and with my ass! Do you ever think such a thing will happen to me again? And I swear to you on my mother's head that it's true!”
After a short silence, she took up her story again.
“My mother's size in the nine months after that didn't hinder her a bit. In fact, it allowed her to fuck all she wanted without even keeping her from being cornholed as she was used to.
“Above all, daring the last two months she had a steady stream of regular customers. I guess certain men will always be attracted by the abnormal. Her stomach had grown enormous and was a tremendous contrast with my tiny body. This enabled a man to come and take his choice between cornholing a little girl without a hair on her body or, in the same bed, her mother who had a tremendous number and was nine months pregnant to boot. I never thought there were so many men avid to screw a woman as large as that “Finally Lili showed up. My mother was out of her bed as soon as possible and we once again took up our work.
“I was ten years old then, and at that age there are certain things that little girls adapt themselves to much more easily than women. Small girls are all a little dirty, and they keep their little rendezvous with each other like a bunch of puppies. They would rather piss on each other's stomachs and stick their fingers in each other's asses then suck them. You know all that as well as I do.
“Thinking that it would come in handy later on, mama had me play with a little girlfriend of mine that taught me a whole stack of filthy practices. It's kind of funny when I think about it; I had been a whore since I was two years old and that kid, I swear, invented a series of grubby games that I had never seen a man even think of. She wised me up as to the possibilities between two women, and the things I learned with her I later practiced with lesbians.
“It bothers me to tell you all this, but yet it doesn't bother me any more to do the things I've described. You don't know what it's like to be a whore. I was ten years old when mama had a banker sleeping with us who… Can you guess what? Who liked to cornhole mama right up to the root and then withdraw his prick and put it in my mouth to be sucked. And the dirtier it was the more enjoyment he got from it.
“I'm used to that sort of thing, though. And then I did the same things that I did with mama to another woman, and… But a child gets used to these things so quickly… The other woman was a very pretty prostitute named Lucette whom I used to like and who slept with us all the time. She never used to go with men except through the behind like the rest of us. And when mother saw that I liked her, the two of them got together and told me that at my age it was time I was learning to eat shit, that it wasn't hard, and that Lucette would teach me how.
“Oh! I can see what you're thinking… that it was easier for Lucette than for me… But that isn't true. Think about it a minute and you'll see what I mean. I know you now. Suppose you have a poor little girl about ten years old who has never done that. Do you think that you'd have the courage? I think that Lucette was very kind with me. And she pitied me, the poor thing. I remember that each time she did it she kissed me on the mouth afterwards so as not to seem to be trying to humiliate me. Poor Lucette!
“What do you want? I do everything that I'm told. I learned that like I learned the rest. Besides, you don't need to think that I had to do it every day. Actually, it's a very useful thing to know, because you always have to do things that resemble it very much. A man that takes two whores, that cornholes the first and makes her shit the come into the other's mouth — that sort of thing happens all the time… The other evening at dinner Lili was laughing because you were shocked when she put your prick into her mouth just after it had been in her ass. That's nothing! You see some really bad things when you're a whore, let me tell you!”
She uttered a deep sigh, not thinking of her past, as one might have thought, but because of her lack of eloquence. On her knees in the middle of the bed, sitting on her heels and holding her hands in the hair between her thighs, she said in a despairing voice:
“I don't know how to explain myself. I'm as dumb as a dodo.”
“Again!”
“And also… I don't think you know what a whore is.”
“What don't I know? Tell me. Take your time, get your ideas ordered before you speak.”
“You think that things like that disgust us. No. It's the men rather than the acts.”
“See? You can explain yourself very well.”
“You, for example, I don't have any crush on you, at least I don't think I have. We'll have to see tomorrow. But at least I'm content in your bed. I'm not making a declaration, it's just that, well… put it this way: shit in my mouth if you want. I'd rather you did that ten times than have to suck the prick of some men I can think of. Do you know what happened to Ricette?”
“To Ricette?”
“Didn't she tell you? There's a kid that got out of a boarding school when she was thirteen and a half. She left there with all her virginity and she didn't know nothing from nothing. Oh, she could finger herself and eat another girl out, but that's all she'd learned. Mama fixed it to have her cornholed right away and after that we thought that she was going to beat us all. Eight days afterwards she could take it better than I. She could stick her feet into the air in a hundred and thirty-two positions, did nut-crackers better than mania even, and without a drop of vaseline — without anything in her ass except a little saliva on the end of her finger. Then, of course, the tried her on sucking. But unfortunately the first man that she had in her mouth was an old one who hadn't had a piece in three months. You don't know what that means. You have to be a whore to know. The poor kid threw up everything she had in her stomach and, since that day we've never been able to teach her how to suck. Every time a man comes in her mouth she pukes. It's too bad. She's such a pretty little thing and so warm, so gay, fingering herself everywhere, a girl who only thinks about cocks all day long and who takes it in the ass much better than I.”
“No.”
“Why do you say no? You know it very well.”
“I'm going to reply as simply and frankly as you've spoken. I say no because after being her half an hour you've done everything you could and more to completely disgust me and yet I'm not disgusted. You have nothing but eulogies for everyone but yourself and nothing but injury for your own head. You excuse and adore the mother that prostituted you. And after twelve years of work and sadness you still place yourself under a little sister who is just starting and who refuses everything that you accept. You even retain a tender memory of your 'poor Lucette' who was so 'kind' to you…”
“Shut up!” she cried, tears streaming down her face.
“But if I believed you I'd think you a beast, a bitch, a whore-arch-whore, an unspeakably filthy girl not even fit to be kissed on the lips because…”
“No! I'm not fit to be kissed on the lips!” she wailed, hiding her face and crying even harder.
“And everything that I've seen as proof of all this points in the opposite direction. First of all you're one of the prettiest girls I could ever hope to hold and becoming nicer the more I know you. Secondly, you are a woman who, from the time you were eight years old, has always made love for the pleasure of others only, who has sacrificed everything to the interest of her mother and the caprices of men, and who offers herself completely every night, with all her heart, even to me whom she doesn't love.”
“To you whom I don't love?” she said. “Whom I don't love?”
And with her arms around my neck and crying on my shoulder, she sobbed out, “You see! I'm nothing but a beast after all! You haven't understood anything I've been trying to say!”