THE ELEVENTH DAY
    They did not rise till late that day, and dispensing with all the usual 
ceremonies, went directly to table once they had got up from their beds. 
Coffee, served by Giton, Hyacinthe, Augustine, and Fanny, was largely 
uneventful, although Durcet could not do without some farts from Augustine, 
and the Duc thrust his brave instrument between Fanny's lips. Now, as from 
the desire to what the desire causes 'tis ever but a single step with 
personages such as our heroes, they went unswervingly toward satisfying 
themselves; happily Augustine was prepared, she blew a steady breeze into 
the little financier's mouth, and he came nigh to stiffening; as for Curval 
and the Bishop, they confined themselves to fondling the two little boys' 
behinds, and then our champions moved to the auditorium. 
    One day little Eugenie, who was becoming more familiar with the rest of 
us and whom six months in the whorehouse had only rendered all the 
prettier, Eugenie, I say, one day accosted me and lifting her skirts, bade 
me look at her ass. "Do you see, Duclos, how Fournier wants me to keep my 
behind today?" 
    An inch-thick patch of shit covered her sweet little asshole. 
    "And why does she want you to wear that?" I asked her. 
    "It's for the sake of an old gentleman who is coming this afternoon," 
she explained, "and he expects a beshitted ass." 
    "Well, well," said I, "he'll be very pleased with you I'm sure, for 
yours couldn't possibly be more thickly encrusted." 
    And she told me that Fournier's was the hand that had smeared her thus. 
Curious to witness the impending scene, I flew to the spy hole as soon as 
dear little Eugenie was summoned. The principal actor was a monk, but one 
of those monks we call gros bonnets, a Cistercian, tall, heavy, vigorous, 
and nearing sixty. He caresses the child, kisses her upon the mouth, and 
demanding to know whether she is neat and clean, he hoists her petticoats 
personally to verify a constant state of cleanliness whereof Eugenie gives 
him full assurance, although knowing nothing could be further from the 
truth; but she had been instructed so to speak to him. 
    "What's this, my little rascal?" exclaims the monk upon catching sight 
of that formidable mess. "What? Do you dare tell me you are neat and tidy 
when your ass is as filthy as this? Why, by the Virgin, I'm sure 'tis a 
fortnight since this bum's been wiped. 'Tis very troubling indeed, for I 
like things to be clean, I do, and it truly looks as if I had better look 
into the situation." 
    While speaking he had deposited Eugenie upon a bed, knelt behind her 
buttocks, and begun to pry them apart with both his hands. One would have 
thought that, at the outset, he purposed simply to observe the state of 
affairs, which caused him great surprise, but little by little he becomes 
accustomed to things as they are, sees here a virtue where he had seen only 
a fault before, sticks out his tongue and moves his head closer, sets to 
polishing the gem, the clods and spots he removes, the pristine object they 
conceal inflames his senses, his prick gets up, his nose, mouth, and tongue 
seem simultaneously to be at work, his ecstasy appears so delicious he is 
all but deprived of the power to speak, his fuck finally mounts - he grasps 
his prick, frigs it, and as he discharges, finishes cleaning that anus, 
which is now so fresh and pure one would scarcely suppose it had been nasty 
no more than a minute or two before. 
    But the libertine was not yet ready to bring the affair to a 
conclusion, this voluptuous mania of his constituted a mere preliminary; he 
gets to his feet, bestows further kisses upon his little partner, exposes 
to her view a great ass of very evil aspect and very unclean, and he orders 
her to give it a thorough shaking, to socratize it; this brings his prick 
up furiously again, he now returns to Eugenie's ass, overwhelms it with 
renewed caresses, lickings, and so forth, but what he did after that it is 
not for me to relate, nor would it properly figure in these introductory 
narrations; you will, Messieurs, have the great kindness to allow Madame 
Martaine to tell you of the behavior of a villain with whom she was only 
too well acquainted; and in order to avoid all questions, my Lords, which 
your own regulations forbid me to treat, or resolve, I continue on to 
another episode. 
    "Just one word, Duclos," said the Duc, who then queried the storyteller 
in an indirect language which enabled her to make lawful reply. "Was it big 
with the monk? Was this Eugenie's first time? . . ." 
    "Yes, Sire, the first, and the monk's was about the size of yours." 
    "Ah, fuck my eyes!" muttered Durcet; "a damned pretty demonstration, 
I'd like to have seen that." 
    You would perhaps have been equally curious, Duclos said as she picked 
up the thread of her narrative, about the individual who, a few days later, 
passed into my hands. Outfitted with a vessel containing eight or ten great 
turds gathered from all quarters and whose authors he would have been very 
distressed to have identified, I was with my own hands to rub him from head 
to toe with this fragrant pomade. Not an inch on his body was neglected, 
not even his face, and when I had massaged his prick, which I frigged at 
the same time, the infamous pig, who all the while stared contentedly at 
himself in a mirror, left evidence of his humble virility between my palms. 
    And at last, gentlemen, we have arrived; I can now advise you that the 
homage is about to be made in the veritable temple. I had been told to hold 
myself in readiness, I kept my bowels closed for two long days. It was a 
commander of the Order of the Knights of Malta with whom I was to break a 
lance; he used to see a different girl every morning for these exercises; 
the following scene transpired at his home. 
    "Very fair buttocks," was his opinion as he embraced my behind. 
"However, my child," he continued, "there's more to it than simply having a 
comely ass, you know. That comely ass must know how to shit. Tell me, have 
you the urge?" 
    "Such an urge I'm dying to satisfy it, Monsieur," I confessed. 
    "Well, by Jesus, that's delicious!" exclaimed the commander, "that's 
what is called excellent service to society, but look here, my little duck, 
would you like to shit in this chamber pot I'm offering you?" 
    "In faith, Monsieur," I made answer, "what with the need I have to 
shit, I'd do it anywhere, I'd even shit in your mouth." 
    "No! In my mouth, you say? Why, bless me, that is delicious, and that's 
precisely the place I myself had in mind for you," he added, setting the 
pot aside. 
    "Well, Monsieur, let's make haste, bring up your mouth," said I, "for 
indeed I'll not be able to hold back much longer." 
    He places himself on the couch, I climb astride him, while operating I 
frig him, he supports my haunches with his hands and receives, piece by 
piece, everything I deposit in his avid mouth. He is thrilled by it all, 
nears his ecstasy, my wrist is hardly needed to bring forth the floods of 
semen which salute my performance; I frig, conclude my shitting, our man 
loses himself and his seed altogether, and I leave him delighted with me, 
or at least so he has the kindness to say to Fournier, at the same time 
requesting the services of another girl for the morrow. 
    The personage who came next employed more or less the same approach to 
the problem, but simply kept the morsels in his mouth for a longer period. 
He reduced them to a fluid, rinsed his mouth with them for a quarter of an 
hour, and spat out little more than dingy water. 
    Yet another had, if that is possible, a still more bizarre 
eccentricity; he liked to find four turds in the pot beneath a pierced 
chair, but those four turds could not be mixed with so much as a single 
drop of urine. He would be shut up alone in the room containing this 
treasure, never did he allow a girl with him, and every precaution had to 
be taken to insure his solitude, he could not bear the thought he might be 
observed, and when at last he felt secure he went into action; but I am 
absolutely unable to tell you what he did, for no one had ever seen him; 
all that is known is that when he had left the room, the pot was discovered 
perfectly empty and as tidy as can be. But what he did with his four turds 
only the devil can tell you, if indeed he knows. He may perhaps have thrown 
them away somewhere, but, then again, he could also have done something 
else with them. 
    However, what would lead one to suspect he did not do that something 
else with them is that he left the procuring of those four turds entirely 
up to Fournier, and never made the least inquiry about their origin. One 
day, in order to observe whether what we were about to say would alarm him 
- for his alarm might have provided us with a clue about the fate of those 
turds - we told him that the ones he had been served that day had come from 
several persons suffering from syphilis. He laughed good-naturedly with us, 
was not in the slightest disturbed, which reaction was not to be expected 
from someone who had employed rather than cast away the turds. When we 
sought, upon one or two occasions, to push our questions a little further, 
he bade us be silent, and never were we to learn more of the matter. 
    That concludes what I have to tell you this evening, said Duclos; 
tomorrow I propose to relate my new mode of life, or rather the new turn my 
same mode of life took, when I met Monsieur d'Aucourt; and as for the 
charming passion you so heavily favor, I hope to have the honor to 
entertain you with examples of it for at least another two or three days. 
    Opinions were divided about the fate of the turds in the episode Duclos 
had just recounted, and while arguing and reasoning about them, Messieurs 
had a few produced for themselves; and the Duc, eager to make everyone 
aware of the taste he was developing for Duclos, exhibited to the entire 
assembly his libertine manner to amuse himself with her, and the dexterity, 
aptitude, and promptness, accompanied by the most stirring language, 
wherewith she knew so artfully how to satisfy him. 
    Supper and the orgies transpired without any unusual incident, nothing 
of importance took place before the afternoon of the next day, and so we 
may move directly to the recitations wherewith Duclos brightened the 12th 
of November. 




THE TWELFTH DAY
    The new mode of life I was about to begin, said Duclos, obliges me to 
draw your attention, Messieurs, to my personal appearance and character at 
the time; one is better able to figure the pleasures being described if one 
is first acquainted with the object that procures them. I had just attained 
my twenty-first year. My hair was brown, but nevertheless my skin was of a 
most agreeable whiteness. The abundance of hair covering my head fell in 
floating and perfectly authentic curls to just above my knees. I had the 
eyes you behold me now to have, and they have always been judged lovely. My 
figure was rather full although tall, supple, and gracious. With what 
regards my behind, that part of the anatomy in which libertines today take 
such a keen interest, it was by common consent superior to the most sublime 
specimens one is likely ever to see, and there were few women in Paris who 
had an ass as deliciously molded; it was full, round, very plump, and 
exceedingly soft, generous, I say, but without its ampleness detracting 
anything from its elegance, the least gesture immediately discovered that 
heavenly little rosebud you so cherish, Messieurs, and which, I do indeed 
like yourselves believe, is a woman's most magical attraction. Although I 
had been for a long season active in libertinage, my ass could not have 
been healthier or looked more untried; its splendid condition was in part 
owing to the good constitution Nature had granted me and in part to the 
extreme prudence I exercised on the battlefield, scrupulously avoiding 
encounters capable of damaging my most precious asset. I had very little 
love for men, I had never had but one attachment; I had a libertine maid, 
but it was extraordinarily libertine, and after having described my charms 
it is only fitting that I say a word or two about my vices. I love women, 
Messieurs, I don't deny it. Not however to the uncommon degree my good 
colleague, Madame Champville, loves them; she will probably tell you that 
she has ruined herself for them; I have simply always preferred them to men 
in my pleasures, and those they have procured me have always exerted a more 
powerful sway over my senses than masculine delights. Apart from this 
fault, I have had another of adoring to steal: I have refined this mania to 
an unbelievable point. Entirely convinced that all possession should be 
equally distributed in the world and that it is only strength and violence 
which are opposed to this equality, foremost law of Nature, I have striven 
to rectify the actual scheme and to do my utmost to re-establish the proper 
balance. And had it not been for this accursed compulsion I might perhaps 
still be with the benevolent mortal of whom I shall speak next. 
    "You say you have done considerable stealing?" said Durcet. 
    "An astonishing amount, Monsieur; had I not always spent what I 
filched, I would be wealthy today." 
    "But was there not more to it than that?" the financier pursued. "Some 
aggravating detail, such as, for instance, forced entry, abuse of 
confidence, manifest deceit?" 
    "Everything under the sun," Duclos assured him. "I did not think it 
worth dwelling on these matters which would also have disturbed the smooth 
unfolding of my history, but since it is evident they might amuse you, in 
future I'll not forget to cite my thefts. 
    "As well as that fault, I have always been reproached for another: I am 
said to have a hard heart, a very bad one indeed; but is that fault really 
mine? or is it not rather from Nature we have our vices as well as our 
perfections? and is there anything I can do to soften this heart she caused 
to be insensible? I don't believe I have ever in all my life wept over my 
troubles, and I can safely assure you I have never dropped a tear for the 
afflictions of others; I loved my sister, and I lost her without the least 
twinge of grief, you were witness to the stoic indifference with which I 
greeted news of her undoing; I would, by God, see the universe perish 
without a sniffle or a sigh." 
    "That is how one must be," said the Duc, "compassion is a fool's 
virtue. Close examination reveals that it is never anything but compassion 
which costs us delights. But with that toughened heart of yours, you must 
have committed crimes, for, you know, insensibility leads straight to 
nothing else." 
    "My Lord," Duclos replied, "the regulations prescribed for our 
narrations prevent me from apprising you of a great many things; my 
companions will supply what you have ordained I omit. I do have one word to 
say, however: when later on they attempt to represent themselves to you as 
villains, you may be perfectly sure I have never been any better than 
they." 
    "That, I should say, is doing justice to oneself," Blangis observed. 
"Well, go on with your tales; we'll have to be content with what you tell 
us, for we have ourselves set bounds to your discourses; but remember that 
when we, you and I, have a little chat together, I'll insist upon hearing 
of your various peccadillos." 
    "And I shall conceal none of them from you, Sire. May it be that after 
having heard me out you shall have no cause to repent of your indulgence 
toward one of the King's worst subjects." Wherewith she lifted up her voice 
and addressed the assembly again: 
    Despite all these defects, and above all that of being thoroughly 
unappreciative of the value of the humiliating sentiment of gratitude, 
which I consider as naught but an injurious burden to humanity and one 
which completely degrades the pride and self-respect implanted in us by 
Nature, with all these deficiencies, I say, my companions were nevertheless 
very fond of me, and of them all I was the most sought after by men. 
    Such was my situation when a rich landowner named d'Aucourt came to 
have a party at Fournier's; as he was one of her steadfast clients, but one 
who preferred girls brought in from outside the house to those residing in 
it, he was held in the highest esteem, and Madame, who felt I had 
absolutely to make his acquaintance, gave me notice two days beforehand not 
to waste an ounce of the precious matter for which he had a greater passion 
than any of the other men I had met with until then; but from the details 
you will be able to judge of all this for yourselves. D'Aucourt arrived, 
and having eyed me up and down, he scolded Madame Fournier for having 
waited so long to supply him with this pretty creature. I thanked him for 
his gallantry, and up we went together. D'Aucourt was about fifty years of 
age, heavy-set, fat, but his face was pleasant to see, there was animation 
in his features, he was witty and, what pleased me most of all about him, 
he had a gentleness and honesty of character which enchanted me from the 
first moment. 
    "You must have the world's loveliest ass," said he, drawing me to him 
and burrowing his hand beneath my skirts. His hand went directly to my 
behind. "I am a connoisseur, and girls of your figure and general look 
almost invariably possess striking asses. Why, look here, didn't I tell you 
so?" he continued, after briefly palpating the object, "how fresh and round 
it is!" 
    And nimbly turning me around as with one hand he lifted my skirts to my 
waist and with the other fondled the article, he fell to work examining the 
altar to which he addressed his prayers. 
    "Jesus!" he cried, "by the Saviour, 'tis really one of the finest asses 
I have clapped eyes on in all my days and, believe me, I have studied many. 
. . . Spread . . . Great God, behold that strawberry! . . . allow me to 
suck it . . . devour it . . . 'tis really a beautiful ass indeed, this one 
. . . eh, tell me, dearie, have they given you the instructions?" 
    "Yes, Monsieur." 
    "They told you I have them shit?" 
    "Yes, Monsieur." 
    "But your health?" went on the capitalist, "there's nothing amiss?" 
    "Never fear, good sir." 
    "It's simply, d'ye see, that I carry things rather far," he went on, 
"and if you have the least illness or symptom, then I run a great risk." 
    "Sir," said I, "you can do absolutely anything you please, I guarantee 
you I am as fit and sound and safe as a newborn babe; you may act in 
confidence." 
    After this preamble, d'Aucourt had me bend around toward him and, all 
the while keeping my buttocks spread wide, and gluing his mouth to mine, he 
sucked my saliva for fifteen minutes or so; he withdrew his mouth in order 
to expectorate a little "fuck," and then returned to his amorous mouth 
pumping. 
    "Spit into my mouth, spit," he repeated, "from time to time, fill it 
with saliva." 
    And then I felt his tongue run over my gums, drive as far as possible 
into my mouth, and I had the impression it was endeavoring to draw 
everything out of me. 
    "Excellent," said he, "I'm getting stiff. Let's go to work." 
    Then he fell to contemplating my buttocks again, ordering me to 
encourage the rise of his prick. I pulled out a strange little engine three 
inches thick and only five long; it was as hard as a cobblestone and full 
of fire. 
    "Remove your skirts," d'Aucourt told me, "while I take off my breeches; 
your buttocks and mine too have to be thoroughly at their ease for the 
ceremony we are about to execute." 
    Then, once I had obeyed him: 
    "Lift your blouse further up, that's it, close to your corset," he 
continued, "and see to it your behind is absolutely disencumbered. . . . 
Lie on your stomach upon the bed." 
    He fetched up a chair and seated himself by the bed, then returned to 
caressing my bum, the mere sight of which appeared to intoxicate him; he 
spread my buttocks for a moment and I felt his tongue sound deep into my 
entrails, this, said he, in order beyond any shadow of equivocation to 
verify whether indeed the hen were inclined to lay; I report his own 
expressions to you. All this while, I was not touching him, not at that 
stage, he was himself lightly stroking the dry little member I had just 
brought from its lair. 
    "Are you ready, my child?" he asked. "For it is high time we undertake 
our task; your shit seems to me as it should be, I've established that, 
remember to shit gradually, a little at a time, and always wait until I 
have consumed one morsel before pushing out the next. My operation takes 
quite a while, so don't be in haste. A light slap on your ass will notify 
you that I'm ready for more, but see to it that I get no more than a bite." 
    Having then adopted the most comfortable position, he glued his mouth 
to the object of his worship, and in less time than it takes to tell I 
delivered a gobbet of shit the size of a pigeon's egg. He sucked it, turned 
it a thousand times about in his mouth, chewed it, savored it, at the end 
of three or four minutes I distinctly saw him swallow it; I push again, the 
same ceremony is repeated, and as I had a prodigious charge to be rid of, 
ten times over he filled his mouth and emptied it, and even after all was 
done he seemed famished still. 
    "That is all, Monsieur," I said when I had finished, "I'm pushing in 
vain now." 
    "It's all over, is it, my little dear? Why, then I believe I'll 
discharge, yes, discharge while paying my respects to this superb ass. Oh, 
Great God, what pleasure you give me! I've never eaten more delicious shit, 
I'd swear to that before any jury. Give it to me, bring it hither, hither, 
my angel, bring me your matchless ass to suck, let me devour it." 
    And thrusting what seemed to be twelve inches of tongue through my anus 
and while doing so manualizing himself, the libertine spatters his fuck 
over my legs, not without uttering a host of obscene words and oaths 
necessary, apparently, to the crowning of his ecstasy. 
    When at last it was all over, he sat down, invited me to sit beside him 
and, regarding me with great interest, asked whether I were not tired of 
the life of the brothel and if I should not be pleased to come across 
someone who would extricate me from it; seeing he had taken a fancy to me, 
I began to demur, and to spare you a long story which could not possibly be 
of any interest to you, after an hour of debating I let myself be won over, 
and it was decided that on the following day I would take up quarters in 
his home in return for twenty louis per month and board; that as he was a 
widower, I could conveniently occupy a large apartment in his town house; 
that I would have a maid to wait upon me and the society of three of his 
friends and their mistresses with whom he got together for libertine 
suppers four times each week, sometimes at his own establishment, sometimes 
at one of theirs; that my one obligation, and occupation, would be to eat a 
great deal, and always the fare he had served to me, because, doing what he 
did, it were essential I be fed on a diet which accorded with his taste - 
to eat a great deal, I say, to sleep long and soundly in order that my 
digestion be good and thorough, to purge myself regularly once a month, and 
to shit in his mouth twice every day; that this rate of shit consumption, 
or rather of shit production, ought not to frighten me because, by stuffing 
me with food, as he planned to do, I would perhaps hear the call not twice 
but three times a day. The capitalist presented me with a very pretty 
diamond in token of his eagerness to conclude the bargain; then he embraced 
me, told me to settle my affairs with Fournier and to be ready the 
following morning, at which time he would come to fetch me himself. My 
farewells were quickly said; my heart regretted nothing, for it knew 
nothing of the art of forming attachments, but my pleasures regretted the 
loss of Eugenie, with whom for six months I had enjoyed an exceedingly 
intimate liaison; I left. D'Aucourt received me with wonderful graciousness 
and himself took me to the very pretty suite which was to be my new 
habitation; I was soon fully installed. I was expected, indeed condemned, 
to eat four meals whence were excluded a great number of things I should 
have adored having: I had to go without fish, oysters, salted meat, eggs, 
and every kind of dairy product; but on the other hand I was so well 
recompensed that in truth I had no real grounds for complaint. The basis of 
an ordinary repast consisted of an immense quantity of breast of chicken, 
of boned fowl prepared and presented in every imaginable fashion, little 
beef or other red meat, nothing that contained grease, very little bread or 
fruit. I had to eat these foods even for breakfast in the morning and, in 
the afternoon, at tea; at these hours, they were served me without bread, 
and d'Aucourt gradually induced me entirely to abstain from bread; ever 
since then I've not eaten it at all, and I've also given up heavy soups. 
The result of this diet, as my lover had calculated, was two bowel 
movements per day, and the stools were very soft, very sweet, somewhat 
small but, so d'Aucourt maintained, of an exquisite taste which could not 
be obtained by ordinary nourishment; and d'Aucourt was a man whose opinion 
deserved to be accorded some weight, for he was a connoisseur. Our 
operations were performed when he awoke and when he retired for the night. 
Their details were more or less what I have already given you: he would 
always begin with a prolonged sucking of my mouth, which I had always to 
present him in its natural state, that is to say, unwashed: I was only 
allowed to rinse it out afterward. He would not, furthermore, discharge 
every time he dined, our arrangements did not in any way bind him to 
fidelity. D'Aucourt kept me as the pièce de resistance, I was the roast 
beef, as it were, but that did not prevent him from sallying forth every 
morning for a nibble of lunch somewhere else. 
    Two days after I had arrived, his comrades in debauch came for an 
evening at his home, and as each of the three boasted, in the taste we are 
presently analyzing, a superficially different although fundamentally 
identical passion, by your leave, Messieurs, every little example adding to 
our collection, I shall devote a few words to the fantasies in which they 
indulged themselves. 
    The guests arrived. The first was an elderly parliamentarian, in his 
sixties, and named d'Erville; his mistress was a woman of forty, 
exceedingly handsome, and having no visible defect other than certain 
excess of flesh: her name was Madame du Cange. The second was a retired 
military officer of between forty-five and fifty, he was called Desprès, 
his mistress was an attractive young person of twenty-six, blond, and 
having as lovely a body as you may hope to find: her name was Marianne. The 
third was an abbot, sixty years old, Du Coudrais by name; his mistress was 
a lad of sixteen, pretty as a star, whom the good ecclesiastic passed off 
as his nephew. 
    The table was laid in that part of the house near my chambers; the meal 
was festive, the fare delicate, and I remarked that the young lady and the 
youth were on a diet very similar to mine. Characters declared themselves 
while we dined; it was impossible to be more a libertine than d'Erville; 
his eyes, his speech, his gestures, everything about him proclaimed 
debauchery, libertinage was painted in his every line; there was more of 
the restrained, the deliberate in Desprès, but lust was none the less the 
soul of his existence; as for the abbot, he was the world's most arrant, 
boldest atheist: blasphemies flew from his lips with virtually every word 
he pronounced; with regard to the ladies, they emulated their lovers, 
tattled and chattered a blue streak but in a rather agreeable tone; the 
young boy struck me as being as great a fool as he was a pretty one, and du 
Cange, who seemed smitten by him, cast a series of tender glances toward 
him, every one of which he failed even to notice. 
    All propriety had vanished by the time dessert arrived, and the 
conversation had become as filthy as the goings on: d'Erville congratulated 
d'Aucourt upon his latest acquisition and begged to know whether my ass had 
any merit, and if I shitted pleasantly. 
    "Oh, by God," my capitalist replied with a smile, "you've only to 
establish the facts for yourself; we hold our goods in common, you know, 
and lend one another our mistresses quite as willingly as we do our 
purses." 
    "Why," d'Erville murmured, "I believe I will have a peek." 
    Taking me by the hand at once, he proposed that we repair to a closet 
together. As I was hesitating, du Cange raised her brows and said in a rude 
voice: 
    "Be off with you, Mademoiselle, we don't stand on ceremony here. I'll 
look after your lover while you're away." 
    And d'Aucourt, whose eyes I consulted, having made a sign of 
approbation, I followed the old legislator. 'Tis he, Messieurs, and the 
other two as well, who are going to offer you the three demonstrations of 
the taste we are currently studying and which should compose the better 
part of today's narrations. 
    As soon as I was closeted with d'Erville, he, very much warmed by the 
drink he had imbibed, kissed me upon the mouth with extreme enthusiasm, and 
in so doing belched a few hiccups into my mouth, which nearly made me eject 
from that orifice what, a few minutes later, he seemed to have the most 
pressing desire to see emerge from another. He lifted my skirts, examined 
my behind with all the lubricity of a consummate libertine, then informed 
me he was not at all surprised at d'Aucourt's choice, for indeed, said he, 
I had one of the most beautiful asses in Paris. He besought me to commence 
with a few farts, and after he had absorbed a half dozen of them, he 
returned to kissing my mouth, the while fondling me and vigorously 
spreading my buttocks. 
    "Are you beginning to feel the need?" he asked. 
    "I feel little else," I replied. 
    "Very well, my pretty child, be so good as to shit upon this dish." 
    He had brought with him one of white porcelain, he held it while I 
pushed, and scrupulously examined the turd as it emerged from my behind, a 
delicious spectacle which, so he maintained, intoxicated him with pleasure. 
When I had finished, he picked up the plate, ecstatically inhaled the 
voluptuous product it contained, handled, kissed, sniffed the turd, then 
telling me he could bear it no longer, and that it was now lust wherewith 
he was drunk thanks to this, the most sublime piece of shit he had ever 
seen, he bade me suck his prick; although there was nothing in any way 
agreeable about this operation, fear of angering d'Aucourt by not co-
operating with his friend induced me to accede to everything. He settled 
himself in an armchair, or rather sprawled sideways in it, having deposited 
the plate on a neighboring table upon which he also rested half his body, 
his nose buried in the shit; he extended his legs, and I, having drawn up a 
low chair and having pulled from his fly a mere suspicion of a very soft 
prick instead of a real member, despite my repugnance I fell to sucking 
this miserable relic, hoping that a mouthing would give it at least a 
little consistency. It did not: once I had taken the wretched object into 
my mouth, the libertine started his operation and thrust into his the 
pretty little egg, all bright and new, which I had just laid for him; he 
did not eat it, he battened upon it: the game lasted three minutes, during 
which his squirmings, shudderings, contortions, declared a very ardent and 
a very expressive delight. But it was all in vain, not a trace of solidity 
appeared in that ugly little stub of a tool which, after having wept tears 
of chagrin into my mouth, withdrew itself more ashamed than ever and left 
its master in that prostration, in that abandon, in that exhaustion which 
is the certain consequence of a potent draught of pleasure. 
    "Ah," said the parliamentarian, "I forswear my faith; never have I seen 
anyone shit like that." 
    Upon returning to the dining room we found only the abbot and his 
nephew, and as they were operating, I can give you the essential 
particulars at once. Whereas the others exchanged mistresses in this little 
society, nothing could induce Du Coudrais to do so: always content with 
what he had, he never accepted a substitute for it; he would not have been 
able, I was informed, to amuse himself with a woman; but in every other 
respect, he and d'Aucourt were alike. He went about his ceremony in the 
same way, what was more, and when we entered the room the youngster was 
lying belly down upon the edge of a divan, presenting his ass to his dear 
uncle who, kneeling down before it, was lovingly receiving into his mouth 
and steadily consuming all the lad was producing, the while frigging an 
exceedingly small prick we observed dangling between his thighs. The abbot 
discharged, our presence notwithstanding, and swore that the boy was 
shitting better with every day that passed.  
    Marianne and d'Aucourt, who were amusing themselves together, soon 
reappeared and were followed by Desprès and du Cange who, they said, had 
only been cuddling and volleying while waiting for me. 
    "Because," said Desprès, "she and I are old acquaintances, whereas you, 
my lovely queen, you whom I see for the first time, inspire in me the most 
ardent desire for a more thorough amusement." 
    "But," I objected, "Monsieur d'Erville has taken it all; I have nothing 
more to offer you." 
    "Why indeed!" he said with a merry laugh, "indeed, I ask nothing from 
you, I'll furnish all that is needed. I merely require your fingers." 
    Curious to learn the meaning of this enigma, I accompany him, and as 
soon as we are alone together, he asks to kiss my ass for a brief minute. I 
raise it toward him and after two or three licks and sucks at the hole, he 
unbuttons his breeches and bids me do unto him what he has just done in my 
behalf. His posture excited my suspicions: he was seated facing the back of 
a chair, by clinging to which he kept his balance, and beneath him was a 
pot waiting to be filled; and so, observing he was ready to perform all by 
himself, I asked why it were necessary for me to kiss his ass. 
    "Nothing could be more necessary, my heart," he replied; "for my ass, 
in all of France the most capricious of asses, never shits save when 
kissed." 
    I obeyed, but took care to stay clear of danger; perceiving my cautious 
maneuvering: 
    "Closer, for God's sake, get closer, sweetie," he said in an imperious 
tone. "Are you afraid of a little shit?" 
    And so at last, in order to be friendly, I brought my lips to the 
vicinity of the hole; but he no sooner felt them there than he tripped the 
spring, the eruption was so violent one of my cheeks was splashed from 
temple to chin. He needed but one shot to submerge the plate; never in my 
life had I seen such a turd: all by itself it would easily have filled a 
very deep salad bowl. Our man snatches it up, takes it with him, and lies 
down on the edge of the bed, presents his entirely beshitted ass, and 
orders me to play with it while he feasts upon what has just darted out of 
his entrails. Filthy as his bum was, I had to obey. "His mistress doubtless 
does as much," I said to myself; "I must be as obliging as she." I plunge 
three fingers into the murky aperture pleading for my attentions; our man 
is beside himself with joy, he falls upon his own excrements, daubs his 
face with them, wallows in them, feeds upon them, one of his hands holds 
the plate, the other jostles his prick rising up majestically between his 
thighs; I redouble my efforts, they are not in vain, I feel his anus 
contract around my fingers, this reports that his erector muscles are about 
to launch the seed, the prospect delights me, the plate is licked clean, 
and my partner discharges. 
    Once again back in the salon, I find my inconstant d'Aucourt with the 
lovely Marianne; the rascal had also made use of her. The only one who 
remained was the page boy, with whom, I believe, he might also have come to 
terms had the jealous abbot only consented to relinquish him for half an 
hour. When everyone had returned, they all spoke of removing their clothes 
and of performing a few extravagances in front of each other. The idea 
struck me as excellent, for it would enable me to see Marianne's body, 
which I had the greatest desire to examine; it proved delicious, firm, 
fair, splendidly proportioned, and her ass, which I fondled several times 
in a joking manner, seemed to me a veritable masterpiece. 
    "What do you want with such a pretty girl?" I asked Desprès. "For the 
pleasure you appear to cherish places no emphasis upon looks." 
    "Ah," said he, "you don't know all my mysterious little ways." 
    I was absolutely unable to learn more about them, and although I lived 
for more than a year with d'Aucourt, and was present at every get-together, 
neither Desprès nor Marianne wished to clarify anything to me, and I 
remained in entire ignorance of their secret intelligences which, of 
whatever kind they may have been, did not prevent the taste her lover used 
to satisfy with me from being an authentic and distinct passion worthy in 
every respect of inclusion in our anthology. Whatever he did with Marianne, 
I supposed, must have been merely episodic and either has been or certainly 
will be related at some one of our sessions. 
    After some rather indecent libertine stunts, some farts, yet a few more 
little turds or turdlets, we had considerable talk and sounding impieties 
on the part of the abbot, who seemed to locate one of his most perfect 
lecheries in ungodly conduct and discourse; after all this, everyone put on 
his clothes again and went off to bed. The next morning, as usual, I 
appeared in d'Aucourt's room as he was preparing to arise, and neither of 
us reprimanded the other for our little infidelities of the evening before. 
He said that, with the exception of myself, he knew of no girl who shitted 
better than did Marianne; I put several questions to him, asking what she 
did with a lover who was so admirably self-sufficient, and d'Aucourt 
replied that all this was a secret between the two of them and they had 
never seemed willing to disclose it. And we, my own lover and I, went on 
with our usual little tricks. 
    I was not as confined at d'Aucourt's house as I had been before; I 
sometimes ventured abroad; he had complete faith, he told me, in my 
honesty, I could very well see what danger I would be exposing him to were 
I to impair my health, and he left me to my own devices. With what regarded 
the health in which, most selfishly, he took such a keen interest, I did 
nothing to betray his trust, but as for the rest, I considered myself free 
to do just about everything that would earn me any money. And so, being 
repeatedly solicited by Fournier who was eager to arrange parties for me at 
her establishment, I lent my talents to every project wherefrom I was 
assured an honorable profit. I was no longer one of her crew, I was a young 
lady kept by a farmer-general; would I have the great kindness to give 
Madame Fournier an hour of my valuable time and pass at her establishment 
on such and such a day, etc., etc. You may fancy how well that paid. It was 
in the course of these brief distractions that I encountered the new shit 
worshiper I'll discuss next. 
    "Just one instant," put in the Bishop. "I did not want to interrupt you 
until you reached the end of a chapter; you seem to be at one now. Would 
you therefore have the kindness to shed some additional light upon two or 
three essential points in this latest party? When you celebrated the orgies 
after your interview with Desprès, did the abbot, who until then had been 
caressing his bardash only, commit acts of infidelity? In a word, did he 
lay hands upon you? did the others desert their women for the boy?" 
    "Monseigneur," said Duclos, "the abbot never once left his little boy; 
he scarcely so much as glanced at us even though we were naked and all but 
on top of him. But he toyed with d'Aucourt's ass and Desprès' and also 
d'Erville's: he kissed them, sucked them, d'Aucourt and d'Erville shitted 
into his mouth and he swallowed the better part of each of those two turds. 
But he would not touch the women. The same was not true of the three other 
friends relative to his youthful bardash; they kissed him, licked his 
asshole, and Desprès went off alone with him for I have no idea what 
exercise." 
    "Excellent," said the Bishop. "You observe that you failed to mention 
everything, and that what you have just recounted forms still another 
passion, since it figures the taste of a man who has other men shit in his 
mouth, and quite mature men at that." 
    "That is true, Monseigneur," Duclos admitted, "I confess my error but 
am not sorry for it, because the soiree has drawn to a close and has indeed 
been overlong. The bell we are about to hear struck would have indicated 
that I did not have sufficient time to end the story I was preparing to 
begin, and with your gracious leave we will postpone it until tomorrow." 
    The bell did indeed ring and as no one had discharged during the 
sitting and as every prick was, however, mightily aloft, they only betook 
themselves to supper after promising to make good their loss at the orgies. 
But the impetuous Duc was never able to postpone important business and 
having ordered Sophie to present her buttocks, he had that lovely child 
shit, and he swallowed her turd for dessert. Durcet, the Bishop, and 
Curval, all similarly occupied, concluded the same operation, the first 
with Hyacinthe, the second with Celadon, the third with Adonis. The last 
named, having failed to give ample satisfaction, was inscribed in the 
punishment book, and Curval, swearing like a trooper, revenged himself upon 
Therèse's ass, which exploded, at point-blank range, the most ponderous 
turd imaginable. The orgies were eminently libertine and Durcet, forsaking 
youthful turds, said that for the evening's games he would have none but 
what his three old friends could yield him. They humored him with passing 
fair performances, and the little libertine discharged like a stallion 
while devouring Curval's shit. Night came at last to restore some measure 
of calm to so much intemperance, and to restore as well our libertines' 
desires and faculties. 




THE THIRTEENTH DAY
    The President, who that night lay with Adelaide, his daughter, having 
sported with her until he felt asleep about to claim him, had therewith 
relegated her to the pallet beside his bed in order that Fanchon might have 
her place, for he was ever eager to have the old duenna by his side when 
lust awoke him, which occurred almost every night; toward three in the 
morning, he opened his eyes with a start and fell to swearing and 
blaspheming like the true rascal he was. He would at such times be gripped 
by a lubric furor which now and again became dangerous. That is why he was 
so fond of having that trusty old Fanchon near him, for no one was so 
skillful at calming him, whether by offering herself or by immediately 
bringing him one of the objects lying in his bedchamber.  
    On that particular night, the President, instantly recollecting some 
infamies he had perpetrated upon his daughter just before falling asleep, 
called for her at once with the intention of repeating them; but she was 
not there. Imagine the consternation and the commotion created by such an 
incident. Curval springs from bed in a towering rage, asks where his 
daughter is; candles are lit, everyone hunts about, the place is ransacked, 
nothing's to be found; the last place searched is the girls' apartments. 
Every bed is examined, and at last the interesting Adelaide is discovered 
seated in her nightgown near Sophie's cot. Those two charming girls, united 
by their similarly tender natures, their piety, virtuous sentiments, 
candor, and absolutely identical amenity, had been seized by the most 
beautiful affection for each other and they were exchanging comforting 
words, consoling one another for the dreadful fate that had been reserved 
for them. No one had perceived their commerce until then, but what followed 
proved that this was not the first time they had got together, and it was 
discovered as well that the elder of the was cultivating the other's finer 
sentiments, and had especially pleaded with her not to stray from her 
religion and her duties toward God, Who would one day comfort and console 
them for all their woes. 
    I leave it to the reader to picture Curval's fury and stormy reaction 
when he located the lovely missionary; he seized her by the hair and, 
overwhelming her with invectives, all very harsh, dragged her to his 
chamber, where he tied her to his bedpost and left her until the next 
morning to ponder over her indiscretion. All of the friends having rushed 
to the scene, it will also be readily imagined with what haste and decision 
Curval had the two delinquents' names written down in the register. The Duc 
argued passionately in favor of instantaneous correction, and what he 
proposed was not by any means mild; but the Bishop having countered with a 
very reasonable objection to what his brother was urged to do, Durcet was 
content simply to include them on the agenda. There was no way of attacking 
the duennas; they were all four bedded in Messieurs' chambers that night. 
This fact accounted for the imperfect administration of the household, and 
arrangements were made whereby, in future, there would always be at least 
one duenna in the girls' quarters and another in the boys'. Their lordships 
retired to bed again, and Curval, whom anger had rendered more than cruelly 
impudicious, did things to his daughter we cannot yet describe, but which, 
by precipitating his discharge, at least put him quietly to sleep. 
    All the hens in the chicken coop had been so terrified that, on the 
morrow, no misbehavior was discovered, and amongst the boys, only Narcisse, 
whom, the evening before, Curval had forbidden to wipe his ass, wishing to 
have it nicely beshitted at coffee, which this child was scheduled to 
serve, and who had unfortunately forgot his instructions, only Narcisse, I 
say, had cleaned his anus and he had done so with extreme care. It was in 
vain the little chap explained that his mistake could be repaired, since, 
said he, he wanted to shit there and then; he was told to keep what he had, 
and that he would be none the less inscribed in the fatal book; which 
inscriptions the redoubtable Durcet instantly performed before his eyes, 
thus to make him sense all the enormity of his fault, a veritable sin and 
possibly by itself capable of upsetting or, who knows? of preventing 
Monsieur le President's discharge. 
    Constance, whom they did not hinder because of her state, Desgranges, 
and Bum-Cleaver were the only ones who were granted chapel permission; 
everyone else received the order not to draw the cork until the evening 
toasts. 
    The preceding night's events provided the dinner's conversation; they 
made game of the President for permitting the bird to fly from its cage, 
etc.; some champagne restored his gay spirits, and the company sallied 
forth to coffee. Narcisse, Celadon, and Zelmire distributed it, so did 
Sophie, who was greatly ashamed of herself; she was asked how often the 
thing had happened, she replied that it had occurred only twice, and that 
Madame de Durcet gave her such good counsel that indeed she thought it most 
unjust to punish them both for it. The President assured her that what she 
called good counsel was, in her situation, the very worst, that the 
devotion wherewith Madame de Durcet had been filling her head would serve 
no purpose save to get her punished every day, and that, in her present 
circumstances, she was to have no masters and no gods save his three 
confreres and himself, no religion save that of blindly serving and obeying 
them in everything. And, all the while he was delivering this sermon, he 
had her kneel between his legs and bade her suck his prick, which the poor 
little thing did all atremble. As always partisan to thigh-fuckery, the 
Duc, obliged as he was to abstain from the capital practice, impaled 
Zelmire in this style, meanwhile having the little girl shit in his cupped 
hand and gobbling it up as quickly as it was received, and all that while 
Durcet was inducing Celadon to discharge into his mouth, and the Bishop was 
industriously extracting a turd from Narcisse. A few minutes, no more, were 
set aside for the nap that they found such an aid to digestion; then, 
having taken up their posts in the auditorium, Duclos faced the gathering 
and began the day's narrative. 
    The gallant octogenarian Fournier had in mind for me, Messieurs, was an 
official from the auditing bureau, short, pudgy, and with an extremely 
unpleasant face. He set a pot between us, we squatted down back to back and 
shitted simultaneously; he seizes up the pot, with his fingers stirs the 
two turds, mixes them, swallows the batter while I promote his discharge, 
an eruption which takes place in my mouth. He barely even glanced at my 
behind. Nor did he do any kissing, but his ecstasy was very sharp and 
compelling all the same: he pranced all about the room, swearing while he 
gulped and ejaculated, and then took himself off, giving me four louis for 
this strange ceremony. 
    However, my landowner became more fond of me with each passing day, and 
more trusting too, and this trust, which I lost no time in abusing, soon 
became the cause of our eternal separation. . . . One day when he had left 
me alone in his library, I noticed that, before going out for the day, he 
had filled his purse with money taken from a deep drawer entirely filled 
with gold. "Ah, what a capture!" I said to myself, and having from that 
very instant conceived the idea of making off with this sum, I set to 
watching for the means and opportunity whereby to appropriate it: d'Aucourt 
never locked the drawer, but he carried with him the key to his library, 
and having discovered that this door and lock were both very frail, I 
fancied it would take little effort to break the one and the other. Having 
adopted the plan, I concentrated upon nothing but taking advantage of the 
first time d'Aucourt was absent the entire day; that used to be the case 
twice a week, when he went off for private bacchanals in the company of 
Desprès and the abbot; Madame Desgranges will perhaps describe what 
occurred during these outings, they lie beyond my province. The favorable 
moment was soon at hand; d'Aucourt's valets, as libertine as their master, 
never failed to go with him to these parties, and so I found myself almost 
alone in the house. Full of impatience to put my project into execution, I 
go straightway to the door of the library, break the thin panel with a blow 
of my fist, rush to the drawer, find it unlocked as I knew it would be. I 
remove everything it contains; my prize amounts to not less than three 
thousand louis. I fill my pockets, rifle other drawers; a splendid jewel 
case catches my eye, I pick it up, but what was I not to find in the other 
drawers of that bountiful secretary! . . . Fortunate d'Aucourt! What great 
good luck for you that your imprudence was not discovered by anyone else 
but me; the secretary contained enought to have had him broken on the 
wheel, Messieurs, that is all I can tell you. Quite apart from the 
transparent and expressive notes addressed to him by Desprès and the abbot 
pertaining to their secret commerce, there was every kind of furniture 
needed for the performing of those infamies. . . . But I halt myself here; 
the boundaries you have prescribed to my depositions prevent me from saying 
more; Desgranges will treat the whole matter. As for myself, the theft once 
effected, I left at once, shuddering to think of all the dangers I had 
perhaps been exposing myself to by frequenting the company of such 
scoundrels. I crossed over to London and, as my sojourn in that city, where 
for six months I dwelt in the most comfortable style, offers nothing that 
could be of any outstanding interest to your Lordships, you will permit me 
to pass quickly over this part of my story. I had maintained contact with 
no one in Paris but Fournier; however, she advised me of the hue and cry 
the landowner had raised over this paltry little robbery, and I finally 
resolved to put an end to this blathering: I took up pen and paper and very 
coolly informed him that she who had happened upon his money had also 
discovered other things, and that if he were determined to continue to 
search for the culprit, I would as bravely as possible endure my fate and 
very certainly depose, with the same judge who would question me upon what 
I had done with the contents of the small drawers, a detailed statement of 
what I had found in the larger ones. Our man fell as silent as a tomb; and 
as six months later their three-partied debauchery came broadly to light 
and as they themselves left France for security abroad, I returned to Paris 
and, must I avow my misbehavior? I returned, Messieurs, as poor as I had 
been before dispossessing d'Aucourt, and such were my straits I was obliged 
to put myself back in Madame Fournier's safekeeping. As I was no more than 
twenty-three at the time, I did not want for adventures; I am going to 
ignore those exterior to my domain and recount, with your Lordships' 
indulgent permission, only the ones wherein I know now that you take some 
interest. 
    A week after my return, a barrel brimming with shit was placed in the 
chamber appointed for pleasures. My Adonis arrives; he proves to be a 
saintly ecclesiastic, but one so habituated to those pleasures, so blase, 
that he was no longer capable of being stirred save by the excesses I shall 
describe. I was naked when he entered. For a moment he regards my buttocks, 
then, after having fingered them rather brutally, he tells me to undress 
him and help him get into the barrel. I remove his garments, aid him to 
climb in, the old pig slides down into his element; a hole has been 
specially bored for the purpose and, fifteen seconds after having immersed 
himself, his prick, almost stiff, pops through the aperture; he orders me 
to frig it, covered as it is with filth and horrors. I do as I am told, he 
ducks his head down into the shit, splashes in shit, swallows shit, shouts, 
discharges, and, clambering out, trots off to immerse himself in a bath, 
where I leave him in the hands of two house servants who spend a quarter of 
an hour scrubbing him clean. 
    Another one appeared shortly afterward. I had shitted and pissed into a 
pot a week before and had carefully preserved the mixture; this period was 
necessary before matters reached the stage our latest libertine desired. He 
was a man of thirty-five, and my guess was that he was connected with 
finance. Upon entering he asked where the pot was; I handed it to him, he 
sniffed it experimentally. 
    "You're perfectly certain that was done a week ago?" he asked. 
    "Monsieur," I replied, "I am prepared to answer for its age; you will 
notice the first signs of mildew there, some moldiness near the edge." 
    "Why, indeed, it looks as if it will do very nicely," he agreed, "it's 
the mold I adore, you know. Never too moldy to suit me. Show me, if you 
please," he continued, "the pretty ass that shitted what we have here." 
    I presented it. 
    "That's it," said he, "put it right there opposite me so that I can see 
it while eating its creation." 
    We arrange ourselves, he samples a little tidbit, is thrilled by the 
taste, plunges directly ahead, and in no time has devoured that exquisite 
lunch, only interrupting his chewing to scan my bum; but there was no other 
episode, he did not even draw his prick from his breeches. 
    A month passed, another unusual fellow came to our door, and this one 
would deal with none but Fournier herself. What an object he selected, 
Great God! she had been sixty-eight summers, an erysipelas was eating every 
inch of her hide, and the eight rotten teeth decorating her mouth 
communicated so fetid an odor it was all but impossible to speak with her 
at a distance of under five yards; but it was these shortcomings and 
nothing else that enchanted the lover with whom she was to take a tumble. 
Most eager to observe the contest, I run to the spy hole: the Adonis was an 
elderly doctor, but younger nevertheless than she. He takes her in his 
arms, kisses her mouth for a good fifteen minutes, then, having her present 
an ancient, wrinkled ass such as you see on a very old cow, he kisses and 
sucks it avidly. A syringe is brought in, three half bottles of liqueur 
too; Aesculapius' worshiper loads his syringe and pumps the healing drink 
into the entrails of his Iris; she receives the potion, holds it, the 
doctor does not cease kissing her, he licks every square of her body. 
    "Ah, my friend," the old lady cries at last, "I can contain myself no 
longer, not another second, prepare yourself, dear friend, I'm going to 
have to give it back." 
    Salerno's scholar kneels, from his fly pulls forth a dark, wrinkled 
stub of a device, which he pounds and coaxes with emphasis, Fournier 
settles her great ugly ass upon his mouth, pushes, the doctor imbibes, a 
turd or two doubtless emerge with the liquid, he gasps but it all goes 
down, the libertine discharges and falls backward, dead drunk. 'Twas thus 
this debauchee satisfied two passions at a single stroke: his wine bibbery 
and his lewdness. 
    "One moment," said Durcet. "Those excesses always give me an erection. 
Desgranges," he pursued, "I fancy you possess an ass closely resembling the 
one Duclos has just figured; come apply it to my face." 
    The old procuress obeyed. 
    "Let it go, release it," Durcet said in a muffled voice, for he was 
speaking from between that pair of awe-inspiring buttocks. "Give it to me, 
buggress, never mind if it's not liquid, I am perfectly able to chew, and I 
always swallow whatever comes my way." 
    And the operation was concluded while the Bishop was performing a 
similar one with Antinoüs, Curval with Fanchon, and the Duc with Louison. 
But our four athletes, fully acquainted with all these extravagances and 
totally at their ease while committing them, performed with absolute 
effortlessness and even nonchalance: the four deposits were consumed 
without a single drop of fuck being shed in any quarter. 
    "Well, on with your story, Duclos, finish up for the day," the Duc 
said; "if we are no more tranquil than before, we are at least less 
impatient and better able to pay attention." 
    "Alas, Messieurs," our heroine answered, "I fear that the anecdote I 
have still to relate this evening is far too simple, too mild for the state 
you are in. 'Tis a pity, but no matter; its turn has come, it must keep its 
place." And she continued as follows: 
    The hero of the adventure was an old brigadier in the King's army; he 
had to be stripped to the skin, then swaddled like an infant; when he was 
thus prepared, I had to shit while he looked on, bring him the plate and, 
with the tips of my fingers, feed him my turd as if it were pap. Everything 
is done according to prescription, our libertine swallows it all and 
discharges in his swaddling clothes, the while simulating a baby's cry. 
    "Let us then have recourse to children," said the Duc, "since you leave 
us with a children's story; Fanny, my dear," he continued, "come to your 
old friend and shit in his mouth, and remember to suck his prick while you 
are about it, for it seems to have to discharge again." 
    "Let thy will be done," murmured the Bishop. "Come hither, Rosette; you 
have heard the orders given to Fanny. Then do as she." 
    "May the same orders apply to you," Durcet said to Hebe, who responded 
to his call. 
    "When in Rome," said the wise Curval, "do as the Romans do, my little 
one. Augustine, emulate your companions, cause simultaneously to flow both 
my fuck into your mouth and your shit into mine." 
    And all these things were done; upon this occasion, all those worthies 
came; from everywhere the sounds of farting and falling shit were to be 
heard, discharges too, and, much lust sated, they betook themselves to the 
table, their appetite was passing strong. But at the orgies, refinements 
were employed, the little ones were sent off to bed. Those delicious hours 
were spent with none but the elite fuckers, the four ladies-in-waiting, the 
four storytellers. Messieurs became completely drunk and performed horrors 
of such absolute filthiness that I should not be able to describe them 
without doing an injustice to the less libertine tableaux I have yet to 
offer my readers. Curval and Durcet were carried away unconscious, but the 
Duc and the Bishop, quite as cool as if nothing had happened, were 
perfectly able to pass the rest of the night indulging in their ordinary 
riot. 




THE FOURTEENTH DAY
    It was discovered upon that day that the weather had lent its approval 
to our libertines' infamous enterprises, and had removed them to an even 
greater distance from the probability they would be spied upon by mortal 
eyes; an immense blanket of snow had fallen, it filled the surrounding 
vale, seeming to forbid even to wild beasts access to our scoundrels' 
retreat; of all human beings, there was not one that existed who could dare 
hope to reach where they lay fast. Ah, it is not readily to be imagined how 
much voluptuousness, lust, fierce joy are flattered by those sureties, or 
what is meant when one is able to say to oneself: "I am alone here, I am at 
the world's end, withheld from every gaze, here no one can reach me, there 
is no creature that can come nigh where I am; no limits, hence, no 
barriers; I am free." Whereupon, thus situate, desires spring forth with an 
impetuosity which knows no bounds, stops at nothing, and the impunity that 
electrifies them most deliciously increases all their drunkenness. There, 
nothing exists save God and one's conscience; well, what weight may the 
former exert, of what account may God be in the eyes of an atheist in heart 
and brain? and what sway is the conscience to enjoy, what influence upon 
him who is so accustomed to vanquishing remorse, routing guilt, that so to 
do becomes for him a game, nay, a little pleasure? Luckless flock delivered 
to the murderous tooth of such villains; how would you have trembled had 
you not still been in ignorance of what lay in store for you! 
    That day was a festival, the second week had ended, the second marriage 
was to be celebrated; Messieurs were in a glad humor and thought not but to 
frolic on that holiday. The marriage to take place was that of Narcisse and 
Hebe, but, cruel fate it was also decreed that the bride and groom were 
both doomed to be punished that same evening; and thus, from the warm 
embrace of hymeneal pleasures they were to move directly to the more bitter 
lessons taught in this school, how unkind! Little Narcisse, who was not a 
dull fellow, remarked this irony, but Messieurs none the less proceeded to 
the usual ceremonies. The Bishop officiated, the couple was conjoined in 
very holy matrimony, and they were permitted to do to each other, before 
the public's eyes, all they wanted to do; but, who would have believed it? 
the order was of a too liberal scope, or too well understood, and the 
little husband, who had an aptitude for learning, perfectly delighted with 
the prospect before him but unable to introduce himself into his pretty 
wife, was however about to deflower her with his fingers, and would have, 
had he been given his way. Firm hands intervened just in time, and the Duc, 
making off with Hebe, thigh-fucked her on the spot, while the Bishop did 
likewise with Narcisse. 
    Dinner came next, the newly-wedded couple were admitted to the feast, 
and as they had been given and commanded prodigiously to eat, both upon 
leaving the table shitted handsomely, one for Durcet's benefit, the other 
for Curval's, who, after having swallowed those little products of 
childhood, smacked their lips and declared 'twas delicious. 
    Coffee was served by Augustine, Fanny, Celadon, and Zephyr. The Duc 
bade Augustine frig Zephyr, and the latter shit in the nobleman's mouth at 
the same time he discharged; the operation was a stunning success, so much 
so that the Bishop wanted to duplicate it with Celadon; Fanny attended to 
the frigging, and the little fellow received orders to shit in 
Monseigneur's mouth the moment he felt his fuck flow. But the young 
operatives succeeded less brilliantly than had their companions: Celadon 
was never able to co-ordinate his shitting with his discharge; however, as 
this exercise was merely a test of skill, and as the regulations made no 
mention of the subjects being obliged to excel in it, no punishment was 
inflicted upon him. 
    Durcet gleaned shit from Augustine, and the Bishop, firmly erect, had 
Fanny suck him while she shat in his mouth; he discharged, and as his 
crisis was violent, he brutalized Fanny somewhat but, unhappily, failed to 
find adequate grounds for having her punished, great as was his apparent 
wish to arrange something for her. A greater tease than the Bishop never 
lived; no sooner would he finish discharging than he would wish for nothing 
better than to see his pleasure-object gone to the devil; everyone was 
familiar with his character, and the little girls, the wives, and the 
little boys dreaded nothing as much as helping him to be rid of his fuck. 
    The midday nap over, they passed into the auditorium, the company 
distributed itself, and Duclos resumed the thread of her narrative: 
    I sometimes used to go into town for parties, said she, and as they 
were usually more lucrative, Fournier did her best to procure as many of 
that kind as she could. 
    She once sent me to the home of an elderly Knight of Malta who opened a 
kind of wardrobe filled with cubbyholes, each of which housed a porcelain 
chamber pot containing a turd; the old rake had made arrangements with a 
sister of his, abbess of one of the most considerable convents in Paris; 
that obliging girl, upon his request, every morning sent him a crate of 
fresh shit produced by her prettiest little pensionnaires. He filed away 
each performance according to a classifying system, and when I arrived he 
bade me take down such and such a number, and it proved to be the most 
venerable. I presented the pot to him. 
    "Oh yes," said he, "that belongs to a girl of sixteen, lovely as the 
day. Frig me while I eat her gift." 
    The entire ceremony consisted in twiddling his device and in dressing 
my bum before his eyes while he ate, then in replenishing the pot he had 
just emptied. He watched me do it, wiped my asshole clean with his tongue, 
and discharged while sucking my anus. After that, the wardrobe is closed 
and locked, I receive my pay, and our man, whom I visited at an early hour 
in the morning, curls up and goes blissfully back to sleep. 
    Another, more extraordinary in my opinion, was an elderly monk. He 
enters, demands eight or ten turds from the first person he sees, girl or 
boy, it's all the same to him. He mixes them into a paste which he next 
kneads like dough, bites into the lump and, eating at least half of it, 
discharges into my mouth. 
    A third, and of all the men I have met in my life he aroused the 
greatest disgust in me, a third, I say, ordered me to open my mouth wide. I 
was naked, lying upon a mattress on the floor, and he was astride me; he 
popped his stool into my mouth and the villain then lay down beside me, ate 
what I spat out, and sprayed his fuck over my teats. 
    "Well, well, that's a pleasant one!" cried Curval; "by Jesus, I do 
indeed believe I want to shit, I really must try to. Whom shall I take, 
Monsieur le Duc?" 
    "Who?" said Blangis. "By my faith, I recommend Julie, my daughter; she 
is right there under your hand. You are fond of her mouth, put it to use." 
    "Thank you for the advice," said Julie sullenly. "What have I done to 
have you say such things?" 
    "Why, since the idea upsets her," said the Duc, "and since she's a good 
girl, take Mademoiselle Sophie: she's healthy, pretty, and she's only 
fourteen, you know." 
    "Very well, it's to be Sophie, that's decided," said Curval, whose 
turbulent prick was beginning to gesticulate. 
    Fanchon approaches the victim, the poor little wretch's tears start to 
fall at once. Curval laughs lightly, brings up his great, ugly, and dirty 
behind, pushes it down upon that charming visage, and gives us the image of 
a toad about to insult a rose. He is frigged, the bomb bursts, Sophie loses 
not so much as a crumb, and the crapulous magistrate's tongue and lips 
reclaim what he has launched; he swallows it all in just four mouthfuls 
while his prick is being rubbed upon the belly of the poor little creature 
who, the operation once over, vomits her very guts out, and directly upon 
the nose of Durcet who has come up posthaste to miss nothing, and who is 
frigging himself while being covered. 
    "Off you go, Duclos!" said Curval. "On with your tales, and rejoice at 
the effect of your discourses; do they not carry the day?" 
    And therewith Duclos resumed, warmed to the very cockles of her heart 
by the staggering success which had greeted her anecdote. 
    The man with whom I held correspondence directly after the one whose 
example has just seduced you, said Duclos, insisted that the woman he was 
presented have indigestion; in consequence, Fournier, who had given me no 
foreknowledge of the thing, had me, during dinner, swallow a certain 
laxative drug which softened what my bowels contained, indeed rendered it 
fluid, as if my stool had become transformed into the effect of an enema. 
Our man arrives and after several preliminary kisses bestowed upon the 
object of his whole veneration, which, by now, was becoming painfully 
inflated by gases, I beseech him to start without further delay; the 
injection is ready to escape, I grasp his prick, he pants, swallows 
everything, asks for still more; I furnish him with a second deluge, it is 
soon followed by a third, and the libertine's anchovy finally spits upon my 
fingers the unequivocal evidence of the sensation he has received. 
    The next day I treated with a personage whose baroque mania will 
perhaps find some worshipers amongst yourselves, Messieurs. First of all, 
he was installed in the room next to the one in which we ordinarily 
operated and in whose wall was that hole so conveniently placed for 
observations. He was left alone to arrange himself; a second actor awaited 
me in the adjoining chamber: he was a cab driver we had picked up at random 
and who was fully apprised of the situation; as I was too, our cast knew 
the various roles to perfection. It was a question of having the Phaëthon 
shit squarely opposite the hole, so that the libertine hidden on the other 
side of the partition would miss nothing involved in the spectacle. I catch 
the turd upon a plate, see to it that it lands intact, spread the driver's 
buttocks, press around his anus, I neglect nothing that can make shitting 
comfortable; as soon as my man has done all he has to do, I snatch up his 
prick and get him to discharge over the shit, and all that well within 
sight of our observer; finally, the package ready, I dash into the other 
room. 
    "Here you are, take it quickly, Monsieur," I exclaim, "it's nice and 
warm." 
    There is no necessity to repeat the invitation; he grasps the dish, 
offers me his prick, which I frig, and the rascal bolts everything I tender 
him while he exhales his fuck in tune with my diligent hand's elastic 
movements. 
    "And what was the driver's age?" Curval asked. 
    "About thirty," Duclos answered. 
    "Why, that's nothing at all," said Curval. "Durcet there will tell you 
whenever you like that we once knew an individual who did the same thing, 
and with positively the same attendant circumstances, but with a man of 
sixty or seventy who had to be found in the lowest sewer of misery and 
filth." 
    "And, you know," said Durcet, "it's only pretty that way." The 
financier's little engine had been gradually lifting its head ever since 
Sophie's aspersion. "I shall at any given time be happy to do it with the 
eldest of veterans." 
    "You're stiff, Durcet," said the Duc, "don't deny it, for I know you: 
whenever you start that nasty boasting it's because your fuck is coming to 
a boil. So hold, good friend; though not so seasoned in years as you might 
like, still, to appease your intemperance, I offer you all I have in my 
entrails, and I believe you will find it enough to make a meal upon." 
    "Ah, by God's belly!" cried Durcet, "you always serve your guests well, 
my dear Duc." 
    The Duc entering Durcet's alcove, the latter kneels down before the 
buttocks which are to fill him to overflowing with good cheer; the Duc 
grunts once, twice, a prodigy tumbles out, the banker swallows and, 
transported by this crapulous excess, discharges while swearing he has 
never tasted so much pleasure. 
    "Duclos," said the Duc, "come do for me what I have done for our good 
friend." 
    "My Lord," our storyteller replied, "you will recall that I it this 
morning, and that you swallowed it." 
    "Why, yes, 'tis true," the Duc admitted. "Very well then, hither, 
Martaine, I must have recourse to you, for I want none of those children's 
asses; I feel my fuck readying to come, but, you know, it comes 
reluctantly, and so we need something out of the ordinary." 
    But Martaine's case was that of Duclos, Curval had gobbled her shit 
that morning. 
    "What! by fuck," cried the Duc, "am I then to fail to find a turd this 
evening?" 
    Whereupon Therèse advanced and offered the dirtiest, the broadest, and 
the most stinking possible of asses you, dear reader, may hope to behold. 
    "Well, that will do, that will do perfectly," said the Duc, assuming 
the posture, "and if in my present disorder this infamous ass I've got here 
does not produce its effect, I don't know what I'll have to resort to." 
    Dramatic moment; Therèse pushes; the Duc receives! and the incense was 
quite as dreadful as the temple whence it emerged, but when one is as stiff 
as the Duc was stiff, 'tis never excess of filth one complains of. Drunk 
with joy, the scoundrel swallowed every ounce, and directly into Duclos' 
face, for she was frigging him, shot the most indubitable proof of his male 
vigor. 
    Then to table; the ensuing orgies were devoted to the distribution of 
justice; that week there were seven delinquents: Zelmire, Colombe, Hebe, 
Adonis, Adelaide, Sophie, and Narcisse; the gentle Adelaide was granted no 
quarter. Zelmire and Sophie also bore away a few marks of the treatment 
they had undergone and, without giving further particulars, since 
circumstances do not permit us to give them yet, everyone retired to bed, 
and in Morpheus' arms recovered the strength requisite to make further 
sacrifices to Venus. 




THE FIFTEENTH DAY
    Rarely would the day following correction offer fresh signs of 
misbehavior. There were none upon this one, but as strict as ever in the 
article of permission to shit in the morning, Messieurs granted this favor 
to no one but Hercule, Michette, Sophie, and Desgranges, and Curval came 
perilously near to discharging while watching the storyteller at work. Not 
overmuch was accomplished at coffee, the friends were content to fondle 
buttocks and to suck one or two assholes; the hour sounded, everyone went 
promptly to establish himself in the amphitheater. Duclos faced her 
audience once again and addressed the company in this wise: 
    There had lately come to Fournier's a little girl of twelve or 
thirteen, the age preferred by that singular gentleman I mentioned to you; 
but I truly doubt whether in a very long time he had debauched anything so 
cunning, so innocent, or so pretty. She had fair hair, was tall for her 
years and fit to be painted, her physiognomy was tender and voluptuous, her 
eyes the loveliest one could hope to see, and in all her charming person 
there was something sweet and intriguing which turned her into a very 
enchantress. But what was the degradation to which the such a host of 
attractions was about to be subjected! and how shameful was the debut being 
prepared for them! She was the daughter of a tradesman in lingerie, 
purveyor to the Palace and a man of comfortable means, and his daughter 
surely had been destined for a happier fate than this of playing the whore; 
but the more the man of whom it is a question was able, by means of his 
perfidious seductions, to beguile his victims to their ruin, and the more 
thorough the depravation into which he guided them, the greater his 
pleasure, the fiercer his ecstasy. Little Lucile, directly after her 
arrival, was scheduled to satisfy the disgusting and unclean caprices of a 
man who, not merely content to have the most crapulous tastes, wished, 
still better, to inflict them upon a maid. 
    He arrives at the house; he proves to be an old notary stuffed with 
gold and who, together with his wealth, has all the brutality that avarice 
and luxury excite when combined in a seasoned spirit. The child is 
exhibited to him; pretty as she may be, his first reaction is disdain; he 
grumbles, he grits his teeth, mutters and swears, and says that it damned 
well seems as if one can no longer find a pretty girl in Paris; he demands, 
at last, whether there is proof positive she is a virgin, he is assured 
that, yes, the article is mint, Fournier offers to show it to him. 
    "What? look at a cunt, I? Madame Fournier! I, look at a cunt! I 
certainly hope you propose the thing in jest; have you noticed me spending 
much time considering those objects since I have been coming to you? I use 
them, to be sure, but in a manner which, I believe, attests no great 
fondness for them." 
    "Very well, Monsieur," Fournier said, "you will have to take the 
house's word for it: I declare that she is as much a maid as a child born 
five minutes ago." 
    They go upstairs together and, as you may well conceive, curious about 
the forthcoming tête-à-tête, I go and establish myself at the hole. Poor 
little Lucile was overcome by a shame only to be described by superlative 
expressions, hence not to be described at all, for those expressions are 
needed to represent the impudence, the brutality, and the ill-humor of her 
sixty-year-old lover. 
    "Well, what the devil are you doing there, are you a stone?" says he in 
a harsh voice. "Do I have to tell you to get your skirts up? I should have 
been looking at your ass two hours ago. . . . Don't stand there like an 
idiot, move." 
    "But, Monsieur, what am I to do?" 
    "Why, Jesus Christ, are such questions still asked? What are you to do? 
Pick up your skirts and show me that damned ass I'm paying to see." 
    Lucile obeys, trembling like a leaf, and discloses a little white ass 
just as darling and sweet as would be that of Venus herself. 
    "Hum . . . looks all right," mutters the brute, "bring it nearer. . . 
." 
    Then, getting a firm grip upon the two buttocks and separating them 
forcefully: 
    "You're damned certain no one's ever done anything to you here?" 
    "Oh, Monsieur, no one has ever touched me. . . ." 
    "Very well. Now fart." 
    "But, Monsieur, I can't." 
    "Well, try, for Christ's sake, make yourself fart." 
    She struggles, frowns, squints, a little breath of aromatic wind does 
escape and produces a little echo upon entering the infected mouth of the 
old libertine, who seems delighted. 
    "Do you want to shit?" he asks. 
    "No, Monsieur." 
    "Well, I do, I've something copious to get rid of, if you're interested 
in the pertinent facts; so prepare yourself to satisfy this particular need 
of mine . . . take off your skirts." 
    They are removed. 
    "Lie down upon that sofa. Raise your thighs." 
    Lucile settles herself, the old notary arranges and poses her so that 
her wide--flung legs display her cunt to the fullest advantage, in which 
open and prominent position it may be readily employed as a chamber pot. So 
to use it was his heavenly intention; in order that the container respond 
more perfectly to what is to be demanded of it, he begins by widening it as 
much as possible, devoting both hands and all his strength to the task. He 
takes his place, pushes, a turd lands in the sanctuary Cupid himself would 
not have disdained having for a temple. He turns around, eyes his work, and 
with his fingers presses and thrusts the filthy excrement into the vagina 
and largely out of sight; he establishes himself astride Lucile once again, 
and ejects a second, then a third stool, and each is succeeded by the same 
ceremony of burial. Finally, having deposited his last turd, he inserts and 
tamps it down with such brutal zeal that the little one utters a cry, and 
by means of this disagreeable operation perhaps loses the precious flower, 
Nature's ornament, offered the child as a gift to Hymen. This was the 
moment at which our libertine's pleasure attained its crisis: to have 
filled the young and pretty cunt to overflowing with shit, to crowd it with 
shit and stuff it with yet more, that was his supreme delight: all the 
while in action, he opens his fly and draws out a species of prick, very 
flaccid it is, and he shakes it, and as he toils away in his disgusting 
manner, he manages to spatter upon the floor a few drops of thin, 
discolored sperm, whose loss may be credited solely to the infamies he has 
been performing. Having concluded his business, he takes himself off, 
Lucile washes, and that is that. 
    Some time later, I found myself with another individual whose mania 
struck me as no less unpleasant: he was an elderly magistrate at the high 
court. One was obliged not only to watch him shit, no, there was more to it 
than that: I had to help him, with my fingers, facilitate the matter's 
emergence by pressing, opening, agitating, compressing his anus, and when 
once he had been freed of his burden, I had with utmost care to clean the 
soiled area with my tongue. 
    "Well, by God! there's a bit of taxing drudgery, I own," said the 
Bishop. "The four ladies you see here, and they are our wives, or our 
daughters, or our nieces, these ladies nevertheless have to perform that 
same chore every day, you know. And what the devil, I ask you, what the 
devil is a woman's tongue good for if not to wipe assholes? I frankly 
cannot think of any other use to put it to. Constance," the Bishop pursued, 
turning to the Duc's lovely wife, who happened to be upon his couch, "give 
Duclos a little demonstration of your proficiency in the thing; here you 
are, I'll offer you a very untidy ass, it hasn't been cleaned since this 
morning, I've been keeping it this way for you. Off you go, display your 
abilities." 
    And the poor creature, only too well accustomed to these horrors, 
executed them as a dutiful, a thoughtful wife should; ah, great God! what 
will not dread and thralldom produce! 
    "Oh, by Jesus," said Curval, presenting his ugly, beslimed asshole to 
the charming Aline, "she'll not be the only one to give examples of 
excellence. Get to work, little whore," said he to that beautiful and 
virtuous girl, "outdo your companion." 
    And the thing was accomplished. 
    "Why, Duclos," said the Bishop, "I think we might proceed now; we only 
wished to point out that your man's request had nothing of the unusual 
about it, and that a woman's tongue is fit to nothing if to wipe an ass." 
    The amiable Duclos fell to laughing and continued: 
    You will permit me, Messieurs, said she, to interrupt the catalogue of 
passions for an instant that I may apprise you of an event which has no 
bearing upon them; it has only to do with me, but as you have ordered me to 
recount the interesting episodes in my life, even when they are not related 
to the anthology of tastes we are compiling, I think that the following 
ought not be passed by in silence. 
    I had been a great while at Madame Fournier's, had long since become 
the first ranked according to seniority, and in her entire entourage was 
the girl in whom she had the greatest confidence. It was I who most often 
arranged the parties and received the funds. Fournier had gradually taken 
the place of the mother I had lost, she had aided me in time of trouble, 
watched over my welfare, had written faithfully to me when I had been 
abroad in England, upon my return had as a friend opened her house to me 
when, in difficult circumstances, I desired to take asylum with her once 
again. Twenty times over she had lent me money, and often had never asked 
for it back. The opportunity arrived to show my gratitude and to respond to 
her limitless faith in me, and you shall judge, Messieurs, with what 
eagerness my soul opened itself to virtue's entrance and what an easy 
access it had thereinto: Fournier fell ill, and her first thought was to 
call me to her bedside. 
    "Duclos, my child, I love you," said she, "well you know it, and I am 
going to prove it by the absolute trust I am about to place in you. Despite 
your mind, which is not a good one, I believe in you incapable of wronging 
a friend; I am very ill, I am old, I do not know what is to become of me. 
But I may die soon; I have relatives who will of course be my heirs. I can 
at least leave them something, and want to: I have a hundred thousand 
francs in gold in this little coffer; take it, my child," said she, "here, 
I give it to you, but upon condition you dispose of this money in keeping 
with my instructions." 
    "Oh, my dear mother," said I, stretching forth my arms to her, "I 
beseech you, these precautions distress me; they shall surely prove 
needless, but if unhappily they were to prove necessary, I take oath and 
swear exactly to carry out your intentions." 
    "I believe you, my child," said she, "and that is why my eyes have 
settled upon you; that little coffer, then, contains one hundred thousand 
francs in gold; I have scruples, a few scruples, my dear friend, I feel 
remorseful for the life I have led, the quantity of girls I have cast into 
crime and snatched away from God. And so I wish to do two things by means 
of which it is my hope the divinity will be led to deal less severely with 
me: I think of charity now, and of prayer. You shall take fifteen thousand 
francs of this money, and you shall give it to the Capuchins on the rue 
Saint-Honore, so that those good fathers will say a perpetual mass for the 
salvation of my soul; another sum, also of fifteen thousand francs, shall 
be set aside, and when I have closed my eyes, you shall surrender it to the 
cure of the parish and beg him to distribute it amongst the poor dwelling 
in this quarter of the city. Charity is a very excellent thing, my child; 
nothing better repairs in the eyes of God the sins we have committed in 
this world. The poor are His children, and beloved of Him is he who gives 
them succor and comfort; never is God more to be pleased than by alms 
distributed to the needy. There lies the true way of gaining Heaven, my 
child! As for the remainder, immediately I am dead you shall take sixty 
thousand francs to one Petignon, a shoemaker's apprentice in the rue du 
Bouloir: this poor lad is my son, he knows nothing of his origins: he is 
the bastard issue of adultery. Upon dying, I want the unhappy orphan to 
benefit from those marks of tenderness I have never shown him while alive. 
Ten thousand francs are left; I beg you to keep them, my dear Duclos, keep 
them as a feeble token of my fondness for you, may they be some kind of 
recompense for the trouble you shall have to take in seeing to the 
distribution of the rest of my fortune. And may this little sum aid you to 
resolve to abandon the dreadful trade we follow, a calling wherein there is 
no salvation, nor any hope. For one is not a whore forever." 
    Innerly delighted to be entrusted with such a handsome sum, and 
thoroughly determined, for fear of becoming confused by Fournier's 
intricate instructions upon sharing it, to keep her fortune intact and for 
myself alone, I produced a flood of very artificial tears and cast myself 
into the old matron's arms, reiterated many oaths of fidelity, and turned 
all my thoughts thenceforth to devising means to prevent the cruel 
disappointments certain to occur were a return to sound health to bring 
about a change in her resolutions. The means presented itself the very next 
day: the doctor prescribed and emetic, and as I was in charge of nursing 
her, it was to me he handed the medicine, drawing my attention to the fact 
the package contained two doses, and warning me to be sure to administer 
only one at a time because, were both given her, death would be the result; 
were the first to have no effect, or an insufficient one, the second could 
be employed later, if need be. I promised the doctor to take the greatest 
possible care, and immediately he had turned his back, banishing from my 
heart all those futile sentiments which would have stopped a timorous 
spirit, putting to rout all remorse and all frailty, and thinking 
exclusively of my gold, of the sweet charm of making it mine, and of the 
delicious titillation one experiences every time one concerts an evil deed, 
the certain prognostic of the pleasure it will give, dwelling, I say, upon 
all that and upon nothing else, I straightway dropped both doses into a 
glass of water and offered the brew to my dear friend's lips; she swallowed 
it down without a moment's delay and thereby, just as rapidly, found the 
death I had sought to procure her. 
    I cannot describe to you what feelings possessed me when I saw my 
scheme had succeeded; each of the retchings wherewith she exhaled her life 
produced a truly delicious sensation throughout my entire being; thrilled, 
I listened to her, I watched her, I was perfectly intoxicated with joy. She 
stretched her arms toward me, addressed me a last farewell, I was 
overwhelmed with pleasurable sensations, I was already forming a thousand 
plans for spending the gold. I had not long to wait; Fournier expired that 
same afternoon; the prize belonged to me. 
    "Duclos," said the Duc, "be truthful: did you frig yourself? did 
crime's piercingly voluptuous sensation attain your organs of pleasure?" 
    "Yes, my Lord, I confess it did; thanks to my prank I discharged five 
times before nightfall." 
    "It is then true," the Duc intoned in a loud and authoritative voice, 
"it is then true that crime has of itself such a compelling attractiveness 
that, unattended by any accessory activity, it may be itself suffice to 
inflame every passion and to hurl one into the same delirium occasioned by 
lubricious acts. Well, what say you?" 
    "Why, my Lord," Duclos answered, "I say I had my employer honorably 
buried, appropriated the bastard Petignon's inheritance, wasted not a penny 
on perpetual masses, nor did I bother to make a single charitable 
distribution, for, as a matter of fact, I have always beheld charity with 
the most authentic horror, regardless of the speeches, such as Fournier's, 
that I have heard pronounced in its favor. I maintain that there must be 
poor in this world, that Nature wishes that such there be, that she 
requires it, and that it is to fly in the face of her decrees to pretend to 
restore equilibrium, if it is disorder she wants." 
    "What's this!" said Durcet. "Do you then have principles, Duclos? I am 
very pleased to observe this in you; for, as you appear to realize, any 
relief given to misfortune, any gesture that lightens the load of the 
distressed, is a real crime against the natural order. The inequality she 
has created in our persons proves that this discordance pleases Nature, 
since 'twas she established it, and since she wishes that it exists in 
fortunes as well as in bodies. And as the weak may always redress matters 
by means of theft, the strong are equally allowed to restore inequality, or 
protect it, by refusing to give aid to the wretched. The universe would 
cease on the spot to subsist were there to be an exact similarity amongst 
all beings; 'tis of this disparity there is born the order which preserves, 
contains, directs everything. One must therefore take great care not to 
disturb it; moreover, in believing that it is a good thing I do for this 
miserable class of men, I do much ill to another, for indigence is the 
nursery to which the wealthy and powerful repair in quest of the objects 
their lust or cruelty needs; I deprive the rich man of that branch of 
pleasure when, by raising up the downtrodden, I inhibit this class from 
yielding to him. And thus my charities have done nothing but put one part 
of humankind very modestly in my debt and done prodigious harm to the 
other. Hence, I regard charity not only as something evil in itself, but, 
what is more, I consider it a crime against Nature who, having first made 
differences apparent to our eyes, has certainly never intended ideas of 
eliminating them to occupy our heads. And so, far from giving alms to the 
poor, consoling the widow, succoring the orphan, if it is according to 
Nature's true intentions I wish to act, not only do I leave these wretches 
in the state Nature put them into, but I even lend Nature a strong right 
arm and aid her by prolonging this state and vigorously opposing any 
efforts they make to change it, and to this end I believe any means may be 
allowed." 
    "What!" cried the Duc, "even stealing from and ruining them?" 
    "Oh my, yes," the financier replied, "even augmenting their number, 
since this class serves another, and since, by increasing the size of the 
one, though I may do it a modicum of harm, I shall perform a great service 
for the other." 
    "That, my friends, is a very harsh system indeed," said Curval. 
"Haven't you heard tell of the sweet pleasures of doing good unto others?" 
    "Abusive pleasures!" Durcet answered at once. "That delight you allude 
to is nothing like the one I recommend; the first is illusory, a fiction; 
the second is authentic, real; the first is founded upon vile prejudices, 
the second upon reason; the first, through the agency of pride, the most 
false of all our sensations, may provide the heart with a brief instant's 
titillation; the other is a veritable mental pleasure-taking, and it 
inflames every other passion by the very fact it runs counter to common 
opinions. In a word, one of them gets this prick of mine stiff," Durcet 
concluded, "and I feel practically nothing from the other." 
    "But must the one criterion for judging everything be our feelings?" 
asked the Bishop. 
    "The only one, my friend," said Durcet; "our senses, nothing else, must 
guide all our actions in life, because only their voice is truly 
imperious." 
    "But God knows how many thousand crimes may be the result of such a 
doctrine," the Bishop observed. 
    "God knows, yes, and do you suppose that matters?" Durcet demanded; 
"for it is enjoyable, isn't it? Crime is a natural mode, a manner whereby 
Nature stirs man, makes him to move. Why would you not have me let myself 
be moved by Nature in this direction as well as in the direction of virtue? 
Nature needs virtuous acts, and vicious ones too; I serve Nature as well by 
performing the one as when I commit the other. But we have entered into a 
discussion which could lead us far; suppertime is approaching, and Duclos 
has still ground to cover before completing her task. Go on, charming girl, 
pursue your way, and believe me when I say you have just acknowledged an 
act and a doctrine which make you deserving of our eternal esteem and of 
that of every philosopher." 
    My first idea when once my good patron had been inhumed was to assume 
the direction of her house and to maintain it on the same footing she had 
found so profitable. I announced this project to my colleagues, and they 
all, Eugenie above the rest, for she was my best beloved, I say, promised 
to regard me as their new mother. I was not too young to pretend to the 
title, being then nearly thirty and possessed of all the intelligence and 
good sense one must have to govern a convent. And so it is, Messieurs, that 
I shall conclude the story of my adventures not as a public whore, but as 
an abbess, pretty enough and still youthful enough sometimes, indeed often, 
to treat directly with our clients; and treat with them I did: I shall in 
the sequel take care to notify you each time I took personal charge of the 
problem at hand. All Fournier's customers remained to me, I knew the secret 
of acquiring additional ones: my apartments were kept very neat and clean, 
and an excessive submissiveness inculcated in my girls, whom I selected 
with discrimination, hugely flattered my libertines' caprices. 
    The first purchaser to arrive was an old treasurer of the Exchequer, a 
former friend of the departed Fournier; I gave him little Lucile, over whom 
he waxed very enhusiastic. His habitual mania, quite as filthy as 
disagreeable for his partner, consisted in shitting upon his Dulcinea's 
face, of smearing his excrement over all her features, and then of kissing 
her in this state, and of sucking her. Out of friendship for me, Lucile 
allowed the old satyr to have his way very completely with her, and he 
discharged upon her belly as he lay kissing and licking his disgusting 
performance. 
    Not long afterward, we had another; Eugenie was also assigned to cope 
with him. He had a barrel full of shit trundled in, plunged the naked girl 
into it, and licked every inch of her body, swallowing what he removed, and 
not finishing until he had rendered her as clean as she had been prior to 
her immersion. That one was a celebrated lawyer, a rich man and a very 
well-known one; he possessed, for the enjoyment of women, none but the most 
modest qualities, which lack he remedied by this species of libertinage he 
had lovingly cultivated all his life. 
    The Marquis de R***, one of Fournier's oldest clients, came shortly 
after her death to express his sorrow upon learning that she was no more; 
he also assured me he would patronize the house just as faithfully as 
before and, to convince me of his devotion, wanted to see Eugenie that same 
evening. This old rake's passion consisted in first bestowing prodigious 
kisses upon the girl's mouth; he swallowed all the saliva it were possible 
to drain from her, then kissed her buttocks for a quarter of an hour, 
called for farts, and finally demanded the major thing. After it had been 
done, he kept the turd in his mouth and, making the girl bend down over 
him, he had her embrace him with one hand and frig him with the other; and 
while he was tasting the pleasure of this masturbation and tickling her 
beshitted asshole, the girl had to eat the turd she had deposited in his 
mouth. Although he was prepared to pay very well, he used to find 
exceedingly few girls who were willing to cooperate in this little 
abomination, and that is why the Marquis would come regularly to me: he was 
as eager to remain one of my clients as I was to have him make frequent 
visits to my establishment. . . . 
    At this point the Duc, very hot indeed, said that as the supper hour 
was hard upon them, he would like, before going to table, to execute the 
last-cited fantasy. And this is how he went about it: he had Sophie come to 
him, received her turd in his mouth, then obliged Zelamir to run up and eat 
Sophie's creation. This idiosyncrasy might perhaps have been a delight for 
anyone else but a child like Zelamir; as yet insufficiently mature, hence 
unable to appreciate the delicious, he manifested disgust only, and seemed 
about to misbehave. But the Duc threatened him with everything his anger 
might produce were the boy to hesitate another instant; the boy obeyed. The 
stunt struck the others as so engaging that each of them imitated it, more 
or less, for Durcet held that favors had to be parceled out fairly; was it 
just, he asked, for the little boys to eat the girls' shit while the girls 
went hungry? no, surely not, and consequently he had Zephyr shit in his 
mouth and ordered up Augustine to eat the marmalade, which that lovely and 
interesting girl promptly did, her repast being as promptly succeeded by 
the racking vomitings. 
    Curval imitated this variation and received his dear Adonis' turd, 
which Michette consumed, not without a duplication of Augustine's 
histrionics; as for the Bishop, he was content to emulate his brother, and 
had the delicate Zelmire excrete a confiture Celadon was induced to gobble 
up. Accompanying all this were certain unmistakable signs of repugnance 
which, of course, were of the greatest interest to libertines in whose view 
the torments they inflict are unexcelled for inspiring satisfaction. The 
Bishop and the Duc discharged, the two others either could not, or would 
not, and all four went in to supper, where Duclos' action was the object of 
the loftiest encomiums. 
    "A very intelligent creature," observed the Duc, whose regard for the 
storyteller could not have been more profound. "Intelligent, I say, to have 
sensed that gratitude is nonsense, an hallucination, and that ties of 
fondness or of any other sort ought never either to make us pause or even 
to suspend the effects of crime, because the object which has served us can 
claim no right to our heart's generosity; that object employs itself only 
in our behalf, its mere presence humiliates a stout soul, and one must 
either hate of be rid of it." 
    "Very true," said Durcet, "so true that you'll never see a man of any 
wit seek to make others grateful to him. Fully certain that benevolence 
creates nothing but enemies, he practices only the arts his wisdom approves 
for his safety." 
    "One moment," interrupted the Bishop. "It is not at giving you pleasure 
he who serves you is laboring, but he is rather striving simply to gain an 
ascendancy over you by putting you in his debt. Well, I ask, what does such 
a scheme deserve? He does not say, as he serves you: I serve you because I 
wish to do good for you. No, he simply says: I put you under obligation in 
order to lower you and to raise myself above you." 
    "These reflections seem to me," said Durcet, "abundantly to prove how 
abusive are the services usually rendered, and how absurd is the practice 
of good. But, they will tell you, one does good for its own sake and for 
one's own; 'tis all very well for them whose weakness of spirit permits 
them to enjoy such little delights, but they who are revolted by them, as 
are we, great God! would be great fools to bother over such tepid stuff." 
    This doctrine having fired their imaginations, Messieurs drank a great 
deal, and the orgies were celebrated with vivacity and brio. Our like-
thinking libertines sent the children off to bed, chose to spend a part of 
the night tippling with no one but the four elders and the four 
storytellers, and in their company to vie with one another in infamies and 
atrocities. As amongst these twelve individuals there was not one who was 
not worthy of the noose, the rack, and probably the wheel, I leave it to 
the reader to picture what was said and done. For from words they passed to 
deeds, the Duc got hot again, and I don't know just why it happened or how, 
but they say Therèse bore the marks of his affection for weeks. However all 
that may be, let us allow our actors to move from these bacchanals to the 
chaste bed of the wife that had been prepared for each of the four, and let 
us see what transpired at the castle on the morrow. 




THE SIXTEENTH DAY
    Our heroes rose as bright and fresh as if they had just arrived from 
confession; but upon close inspection, one might have noticed that the Duc 
was beginning to tire a little. Blame for this could have been bestowed 
upon Duclos; there is no question but that the girl had entirely mastered 
the art of procuring him delight and that, according to his own words, his 
discharges were lubricious with no one else, which would corroborate the 
idea that these matters depend solely upon caprice, upon idiosyncrasy, and 
that age, looks, virtue, and all the rest have nothing whatever to do with 
the problem, that it all boils down to a certain tactfulness which is much 
more often found possessed by beauties in the autumn of life than by those 
others of no experience whom the springtide yet crowns with all her show. 
    There was as well another creature in the company who was beginning to 
make herself very amiable and to attract considerable attention; we are 
referring to Julie. She was already announcing signs of imagination, 
debauchery, and of libertinage. Astute enough to sense that she stood in 
need of protection, clever enough to caress those very persons for whom 
perhaps she did not at heart have a very great fondness, she contrived to 
become Duclos' friend, this in order to try to achieve some favor in the 
eyes of her father upon the others. Every time her turn came to lie with 
the Duc, she would adopt Duclos' techniques and emulate them so 
successfully, give proof of such skill, so much consideration, that the Duc 
was always sure of obtaining delicious discharges whenever he used those 
two creatures to procure them. Nevertheless, his enhusiasm for his daughter 
was waning prodigiously, and perhaps without Duclos' assistance, for the 
narrator consistently spoke well in her behalf, she would never have been 
able to occupy a place in his good graces. Her husband, Curval, was roughly 
of the same mind regarding her, and although, by means of her impure mouth 
and kisses, she still managed to wheedle a few discharges from him, disgust 
was dangerously near to becoming his predominating attitude toward her: one 
might even have said that the fires of his hostility were fanned by her 
impudicious caresses. Durcet held her in no esteem, she had not made him 
discharge more than twice since the adventures at Silling had started. And 
so it seemed that no one but the Bishop remained to her, and he indeed was 
fond of her libertine jargon, and judged hers to be the world's finest ass; 
and it is certain that Nature had furnished her with one as lovely as that 
which had been given to Venus. She hence made the most of that part, for 
she wished absolutely to please at whatever the price; as she felt an 
extreme need for a protector, she sought to cultivate Duclos. 
    At the chapel appeared that day no more than three persons: Hebe, 
Constance, Martaine; no one had been found at fault that morning. After the 
three subjects had ridded themselves of their freight, Durcet was taken by 
an impulse to be delivered of his. The Duc, who since early morning had 
been fluttering and buzzing about the financier's behind, seized the 
opportunity to satisfy himself and, sending away everyone but Constance, 
whom they kept as an aide, they encloseted themselves in the chapel. The 
Duc was appeased by the generous mouthful of shit he had from Durcet; these 
gentlemen, however, did not limit themselves to that prelude, and afterward 
Constance reported to the Bishop that they had performed infamies for a 
good thirty minutes. But what is one to expect? they had been friends, as I 
have said, since childhood, and since then had never ceased reminding one 
another of their schoolboy pleasures. As for Constance, she served no great 
purpose during this tête-à-tête; she wiped asses, sucked and frigged a few 
pricks, and that was about all.  
    They retired to the salon, the four friends conversed there for a 
while, and the midday meal was announced. It was, as usual, splendid and 
libertine and, after some lewd fingerings and bawdy colling, and a few 
scandalous remarks which spiced their lascivious byplay, they returned to 
the salon where Zephyr and Hyacinthe, Michette and Colombe were waiting to 
serve coffee. The Duc thigh-fucked Michette, and Curval, Hyacinthe; Durcet 
fetched shit out of Colombe, and the Bishop dropped some in Zephyr's mouth; 
Curval, recollecting one of the passions Duclos had related the day before, 
was moved to shit in Colombe's cunt; old Therèse, who was supervising the 
day's quartet, placed Colombe in a suitable posture, and Curval performed. 
But as he produced colossal turds, proportioned by the immense quantity of 
victuals wherewith he stuffed himself every day, almost all of his creation 
spilled upon the floor and it was, so to speak, only superficially he 
beshitified that pretty little virgin cunt which had not, one would have 
thought, been intended by Nature to be used for such disagreeable 
pleasures. 
    Deliciously frigged by Zephyr, the Bishop yielded his fuck 
philosophically, joining, to the delights he was feeling, that other 
offered by the wonderful spectacle being enacted about him. He was furious, 
he scolded Zephyr, he scolded Curval, he fumed and grumbled at everyone. He 
was given a large glass of elixir whereby they hoped his faculties would be 
restored, Michette and Colombe settled him upon a sofa for his nap and 
stood by him while he slept. He woke amply refreshed and, in order to give 
him additional strength, Colombe sucked him for a moment or two; his engine 
responded by showing some positive signs of life, and they went next into 
the auditorium. The Bishop had Julie on his couch; as he was rather fond of 
her, the sight of her improved his mood. The Duc had aline; Durcet, 
Constance; the President, his daughter. Everything being ready, the lovely 
Duclos installed herself upon her throne and began thus: 
    There is nothing more untrue than to say money acquired through crime 
brings no happiness. No greater error, I assure you; my house prospered; 
never had so many clients come there during Fournier's administration. It 
was then an idea occurred to me, a rather cruel idea, I admit, but one 
which, I dare flatter myself in believing, will not be altogether 
displeasing to your Lordships. It seemed to me that when one had not done 
unto another the good one ought to have done him, there existed a certain 
wicked voluptuousness in doing him ill, and my perfidious imagination 
suggested a little libertine mischief at the expense of that same Petignon, 
my benefactress' son, and the individual to whom I had been charged to 
surrender a fortune which, doubtless, would have proven very welcome to 
that wretch, and which I had already begun to squander upon trifles. The 
occasion arrived in this way: the poor shoemaker, married to a girl of his 
own class and sort, had, as the unique fruit of this unfortunate marriage, 
a daughter of about twelve; I had been to told that, together with all the 
lovely features of childhood, she possessed all the attributes of the most 
tender beauty. This child, then being brought up humbly but nevertheless as 
carefully as the parents' indigence could permit, for she was the joy and 
light of their life, this child, I say, struck me as a capture well worth 
making. 
    Petignon had never come ot the house, he knew nothing of the legal 
rights that were his; immediately after Fournier had mentioned him to me, 
my first move was to obtain information about him and those around him, and 
thus I learned that he possessed a treasure in his house. At about the same 
time the Comte de Mesanges came to me; a famous libertine of whose 
profession Desgranges will doubtless have at least one occasion to speak, 
the Comte requested me to provide him with a maid of no more than thirteen 
at whatever the price. I don't know what he wanted with the article, for he 
passed for a man with very rigorous scruples when it was a question of 
women, but his proposal was simple enough: after having, with the help of 
experts, established her virginity, he said he would buy her from me for a 
fixed sum and, from this moment on, she would be his, he would be her 
master, and, he added, the child would be removed, perhaps permanently, 
from France. 
    As the Comte was one of my habitues - you shall see him enter upon the 
scene very soon - I set everything in motion in an effort to satisfy him; 
Petignon's little daughter seemed to me exactly what he needed. But how was 
I to get my hands upon her? The child never left the house, it was there 
she received her education; so carefully was she supervised, so 
circumspectly that I began to despair of the prize. Nor was I able to 
employ that masterful debaucher of girls I mentioned some time ago; he was 
away from the city, and the Comte was urging me to hurry. And so I could 
find only one means, and this means could not have been better designed to 
serve the secret little wickedness which was impelling me to commit this 
crime, for the crime was aggravated by it. I resolved to embroil husband 
and wife in some kind of difficulty, to strive to get both of them 
imprisoned, and in this way removing some of the obstacles between the 
child and myself, I fancied I would encounter no trouble in luring her into 
the snare. Wherewith I consulted one of my friends, a skilled barrister 
whom I trusted and who was capable of anything; I put him on the scent, he 
went directly to work: he compiled information, made inquiries, located 
creditors, aroused them, supported their claims, in brief, it took less 
than a week to lodge husband and wife behind bars. From then on everything 
was easy; an adroit scout accosted the little girl, who had been abandoned 
to the care of some poor neighbors, she was led to me. Her appearance 
perfectly matched the reports I had received: she had a sweet, a soft, a 
fair skin, the roundest little ornaments, charms perfectly shaped. . . . In 
a word, it were difficult to find a prettier child. 
    As she cost me, all told, about twenty louis, and as the Comte wished 
to pay a flat price for her and, having once bought her outright, wished 
neither to hear another word about the transaction nor have further 
dealings with anyone, I let her go for one hundred louis; it being 
essential to my interests that no one get wind of my part in the thing, I 
was content with a net profit of sixty louis, given my attorney another 
twenty to create just that kind of stir which would prevent her parents 
from having news of their daughter for a long time. But news did reach 
them; the girl's disappearance was impossible to conceal. The neighbors who 
had been guilty of negligence excused themselves at best they were able, 
and as for the poor shoemaker and his wife, my man-of-law managed matters 
so well that they were never able to remedy the accident, for both of them 
died in jail some eleven years after I had made off with my prey. I reaped 
a twofold advantage from that little mishap, since it simultaneously 
assured me undisputed ownership of the child I was negotiating to sell and 
also assured me 60,000 francs for my trouble. As for the child, the Comte 
was satisfied with her; never did he encounter any difficulties, never did 
I, no, not a word was said, and it is more than likely Madame Desgranges 
will finish her story; I know no more about it. But it is high time to 
return to my own adventures, and to the daily events which may offer you 
the voluptuous details we have listed. 
    "Oh by God!" Curval broke in, "I adore your prudence - there is 
something in your method which bespeaks a meditated villainy, an 
orderliness which pleases me more than I can say. And as for that rascality 
of having given the final stroke to a victim you had until then only 
scratched . . .ah, that seems to me a refinement of infamy which deserves a 
place amongst our own masterpieces." 
    "I wonder, however," said Durcet, "whether I might not have done worse, 
for, after all, those parents could have obtained their release from jail: 
there are God knows how many fools in the world who think of nothing but 
helping such people. Those eleven years during which they lingered on meant 
worry for you." 
    "Monsieur," Duclos answered him, "when one does not enjoy the influence 
you have in society, when for one's little pranks one is forced to employ 
second-rate allies, caution often becomes very necessary, and at such times 
one dares not do all one would like." 
    "True, true," said the Duc, "she was unable to go any further." 
    And the amiable creature took up the thread of her narrative. 
    Dreadful it is, my Lords, said that accomplished girl, to have still to 
relate turpitudes in kind like to those I have been speaking about for 
several days; but you have required that I cite everything which might bear 
an even faint resemblance to this great genre of abomination, and insisted 
too that I suppress nothing. But three more examples of these filthy 
atrocities and we shall then continue on to other fantasies. 
    The first I propose to mention is that of an elderly administrator of 
the demesne, a man of I should say three score and six. He would have the 
woman remove all her clothes and, after having fondled her buttocks with 
less delicacy than brutality, he would promptly order her to shit on the 
floor before his eyes, in the middle of the room. When he had relished this 
prospect, he would in his turn step up and lay his own turd next to hers, 
then, combining them with his hands, he would oblige the girl to get down 
on all fours and eat the hash, and while eating she was to present her 
behind, which she was to have brought to the party in a most maculated 
state. While the ceremony was in progress he would manualize himself, and 
used to discharge as soon as the last bite had vanished. There were few 
girls, as your Lordships may readily believe, who would consent to submit 
themselves to such vile use, but all the same the administrator had to have 
them youthful and healthy. . . . Well, I used somehow to find what he 
needed, for everything is to be found in Paris; however, the merchandise 
came dear. 
    The second example of the three I have left to cite of this species 
also required what might be termed a furious docility on the girl's part; 
but as this libertine wished her to be extremely young, I had less trouble 
supplying him: children lend themselves to these games more readily than do 
mature women. I located a pretty little shopgirl of twelve or thirteen for 
the gentleman whom we are about to see in action; he arrives, has the girl 
take off only the clothing that covers her from the waist down; he toys 
with her behind for a brief moment, gets her to fart a little, then gives 
himself four or five copious enemas which, subsequently, he obliges his 
little partner to receive into her mouth and to swallow as the cascade 
tumbles out of his rectum. Meanwhile, as he was seated astride her chest, 
he employed one hand to frig a rather thick device and with the other he 
kneaded and pinched her mons veneris and, in order that he might do it all 
as he wished, he had to have a completely hairless cunt to work with. This 
individual wanted to continue on even after his sixth explosion, for his 
discharge was not yet achieved. The little girl, convulsed with vomiting, 
managed to articulate her disinclination to proceed, she begged to be 
spared, he laughed at her, introduced a seventh draught, expelled it, and 
his fuck finally did indeed flow. 
    An elderly banker provides us with the last example of these unclean 
horrors - or rather the last example of a man for whom they were the 
principal element, for I must warn you that we shall have repeated occasion 
to behold them as accessories to the main endeavor. He had to have a 
handsome woman, but one aged from forty to forty-five and with an extremely 
flabby pair of breasts. Immediately they were encloseted together he would 
have her remove all she was wearing from the waist up, and having brutally 
handled her teats, would cry: "These damned cow dugs! what good are such 
tripes, eh? What are they for if not to wipe my ass upon?" Next he would 
squeeze them, twist them, wring them, twine them together, tug them, pound 
them, spit upon them, kick and trample them, all the while saying, what a 
damned infamous thing is a flabby tit, he could not imagine what Nature had 
intended these bags of skin for, why had Nature spoiled and dishonored 
woman's body with these things? etc. After all these preposterous remarks 
he would remove every stitch of his clothing. My God, what a body! how am I 
to describe it to your Lordships! 'Twas no more than a disgusting ulcer, a 
running sore, pus seemed to cover him from head to toe, I could smell his 
infected odor even in the adjacent room from which I was observing the 
ritual; such was the relic which, however, the woman had to suck. 
    "Suck?" said the Duc. 
    Yes, Messieurs, Duclos affirmed, suck from top to bottom, every square 
inch of his body had to be sucked, the tongue was to neglect nothing, to 
explore it all; I had forewarned the girl, but apparently in vain. She'd 
not expected this; for upon catching sight of that ambulatory corpse she 
shrank away in horror. 
    "What's this, bitch?" says he, "do I disgust you? Why, that's a pity, 
for you're going to have to suck me, your tongue is going to have to lick 
every part of my body. Come now! Stop playing the shy little girl; others 
have done the job, see to it that you do it as well as they. That's enough, 
I tell you, no nonsense." 
    Ah, they speak true when they say that with money one can accomplish 
anything; the poor creature I had given him was in the extremest misery, 
and her was a chance to earn two louis: she did everything she was told, 
and the podagrous old scoundrel, thrilled by the sensation of a tongue 
straying softly over his hideous body and sweetening the bitter pungency 
devouring him, frigged himself voluptuously during the entire operation. 
When it had been completed, and completed, as you may well suppose, despite 
the horrible revulsion of the luckless woman, when it was done, I say, he 
had her lie down upon the floor on her back, he got astride her, shitted 
all over her bubs, and squeezing his performance between them, he used 
them, first one, then the other, to wipe his ass. But with what regards his 
discharge, I saw not so much as a hint, and some time later I learned that 
it required several such operations before he could be induced to part with 
his liquor; and as he was a man who seldom twice visited the same place, I 
saw no more of him and, to tell the truth, was by no means sorry. 
    "Upon my soul," the Duc observed, "I find the conclusion of that man's 
operation very reasonable indeed, and I too have never been able to believe 
that teats were intended for anything but bumwipes." 
    "One may be certain," said Curval, who at the moment was rather 
brutally handling those belonging to the sweet and tender Aline, "one may 
be certain indeed that a tit is a very infamous object. I never catch sight 
of one without being plunged straightway into a rage. Upon seeing these 
things I experience a certain disgust, a certain repugnance assails me . . 
. only a cunt has a worse and more decided effect upon me." 
    And so saying, he flung himself into his closet, dragging Aline by the 
breast and calling out to Sophie and Zelmire, his quatrain's two girls, and 
Fanchon to follow him. One cannot be sure of precisely what he did, but a 
loud scream, clearly a woman's, was heard by the others in the auditorium, 
and shortly afterward came the bellowings that usually indicated the 
President had discharged. He returned. Aline was weeping and held a 
kerchief over her breast, and as these events rarely created any stir, or, 
at best, a few chuckles, Duclos went on with her story at once. 
    Several days later I myself took care, said she, of an old monk whose 
mania, more wearying to the hand, was rather less revolting to the stomach. 
He presented me with a great ugly behind covered with skin as tough as 
bull's hide and as wrinkled as a dried leaf; the task here was to knead his 
ass, to handle it, drub and thump it, squeeze it with all my strength, but 
when I reached the hole, nothing I did seemed sufficiently violent: I had 
to catch up the skin, rub it, pinch it, roll it between my fingers, use my 
nails, and it was thanks only to the vigor of my ministrations his fuck 
finally emerged. He attended to his own frigging while I abused his bum and 
vent, and I was not even obliged to show him my ankles. But that man must 
have made a very fierce and old habit of those manipulations, for his 
behind, although slack and hanging, was nevertheless upholstered by a skin 
as horny and as thick as leather. 
    The next day, doubtless having spoken highly of me and my dexterity to 
his friends in the monastery, he sent one of his brethren upon whose ass 
one had to bestow slaps, indeed blows of the hand, and stout ones at that; 
but this new ecclesiastic, more of a libertine and an examiner, preceded 
his rite by a meticulous inspection of his woman's buttocks, and my ass was 
kissed, nuzzled, tongued ten or twelve times over, the intervals being 
filled by blows aimed at his. When his hide had taken a scarlet hue, his 
prick got bravely up, and I can certify that it was one of the noblest 
engines I had palmed and fingered until that day. He put it into my hand, 
recommending that I frig it while continuing to slap him with the other. 
    "Unless I am gravely mistaken," said the Bishop, "we have finally 
reached the article of passive fustigation." 
    "Yes, Monseigneur," replied Duclos, "we have, and as my task for today 
has been fulfilled, you will consent to allow me to postpone until tomorrow 
the beginning of fustigatory tastes; we shall devote several soirees to 
dealing with them." 
    As nearly half an hour remained before supper, Durcet said that, to 
stimulate his appetite, he wished to give his entrails a few rinses; his 
announcement made something of an impression upon the women, who began to 
tremble; but sentence had been decreed, there was no revoking it. Therèse, 
his servant that day, assured him she introduced the tube with wonderful 
skill; from the assertion she passed to the proof, and as soon as the 
little financier felt his bowels loaded, he singled out Rosette, beckoned 
her to him, and bade her open her mouth. There was some balking, a few 
complaints and a word or two of pleading, but the capital thing was 
obedience and, sure enough, the poor little girl swallowed two eruptions, 
having been granted the option or regurgitating them afterward. And 
regurgitate them she did, and soon. Happily, the supper bell sounded, for 
the financier was getting ready to begin again. But the prospect of a meal 
changed the disposition of their Lordships' minds, they went to taste 
different pleasures. A few turds were lodged on a few bubs at the orgies, 
and a great deal of shit was gleaned from asses; within the assembly's full 
view, the Duc consumed Duclos' turd, while that splendid girl sucked him, 
and while the bawdy fellow's hands roamed here and there, his fuck came out 
in a thick spray; Curval having imitated him with Champville, the friends 
began to speak of retiring for the night. 




THE SEVENTEENTH DAY
    The terrible antipathy the President had for Constance was manifest in 
daily outbursts: he had spent the night with her, having made a bilateral 
arrangement with Durcet, to whom he returned her the following morning with 
the most bitter complaints about her behavior. 
    "Since because of her condition," said he, "the society seems loath to 
expose her to the customary punishments for fear she be brought to bed 
before the time we have appointed to pluck her fruit, at least, by Jesus," 
said he, "we should find some means or other to punish the whore when she 
chooses to play the fool." 
    Ah, but what is that spirit of evil that inhabits libertines? Some 
glimmer of it may be obtained by analyzing Constance's prodigious fault. O 
reader, what do you suppose it was had waked Curval's wrath? Even worse 
than you may have dreamt: she had most unfortunately turned her front 
toward her master when he had called for her behind, ah yes, and such sins 
are not to be forgiven. But the worst part of her error was her denial of 
the fact; she declared, and there seemed some basis to her contention, that 
the President was calumniating her, that he was seeking naught but her 
downfall, that she never lay with him but he would invent some such 
untruth; but as the law was precise and formal on this point, and as 
women's speeches were given no credence whatever in that society, but one 
question remained posed: how in future was this female to be chastised 
without risking the spoilage of the fruit ripening in her? It was decided 
that for each misdemeanor she would be obliged to eat a turd and, 
consequently, Curval insisted that she begin there and then. Approbation 
greeted his demand. They were at the time breakfasting in the girls' 
quarters, word was dispatched, Constance was summoned, the President 
shitted in the center of the room, and she was enjoined to approach his 
creation on hands and knees and to devour what the cruel man had just 
wrought. She cast herself upon her knees, yes, but in this posture begged 
pardon, and her solicitations went unheeded; Nature had put bronze in those 
breasts where hearts are commonly to be found. Nothing more entertaining 
than the grimaces and affected airs to which the poor woman resorted before 
capitulating, and God knows how amused Messieurs were by the scene. At 
last, however, decisive action had to be taken, Constance's very soul 
seemed to burst before she was half done, but it had all to be done 
nevertheless, and every ounce disappeared from the tiles on the floor. 
    Excited by what he was witnessing, each of our friends, while watching, 
had himself frigged by a small girl; Curval, singularly aroused by the 
operation and benefiting from the wondrous skill of Augustine's enchanted 
fingers, feeling himself nigh to overflowing, called to Constance, who had 
scarcely finished eating her mournful breakfast. 
    "Hither, come to me, whore," said he, "after having bolted some fish 
one needs a little sauce, good white sauce. Come get a mouthful." 
    Well, there was no escaping that ordeal either, and Curval, who, while 
operating, was having Augustine shit, opened the sluices and let fly into 
the mouth of the Duc's miserable wife, and at the same time swallowed the 
fresh and delicate little turd the interesting Augustine had hatched for 
him. 
    The inspection tours were conducted, Durcet found shit in Sophie's 
chamber pot. The young lady sought to excuse her error by maintaining that 
she had been suffering from indigestion. 
    "Not at all," Durcet observed as expertly he handled the turd, "that is 
not true: indigestion produces diarrhea, soup, my dear, and this article 
looks very sound to me." 
    And straightway taking up his baneful notebook, he wrote down the name 
of that charming creature, who did her best to hide her tears and 
refrained, at Durcet's request, from deploring her situation. Everyone else 
had abided by the regulations, but in the boys' chamber, Zelamir, who had 
shitted the previous evening during the orgies and who had been told not to 
wipe his little bum, had tidied it up none the less, disobeying the orders. 
These were the crimes of the first magnitude: Zelamir's name was inscribed. 
Notwithstanding the boy's delinquency, Durcet kissed his ass and had 
himself sucked for a brief moment, then Messieurs passed on to the chapel, 
where they beheld the shitting of two subaltern fuckers, Aline, Fanny, 
Therèse, and Champville. The Duc received Fanny's performance in his mouth, 
and he ate it, the Bishop's mouth caught the two fuckers' turds, one of 
which the prelate devoured, Durcet made Champville's his own, and the 
President, despite his discharge, gulped down Aline's with all the avidity 
he had exhibited while consuming what Augustine had done for him. 
    Constance's scene had heated the company's imagination, for it had been 
a long time since Messieurs had indulged themselves in such extravagances 
so early in the morning. Dinner conversation dealt with moral science. The 
Duc declared he could not understand why in France the law smote so heavily 
against libertinage, since libertinage, by keeping the citizens busy, kept 
them clear of cabals and plots and revolutions; the Bishop observed that, 
no, the laws did not exactly aim at the suppression of libertinage, but at 
its excesses. Whereupon the latter were analyzed, and the Duc proved that 
there was nothing dangerous in excess, no excess which could justly arouse 
the government's suspicion, and that, these facts being clear, the official 
attitude was not only cruel but absurd; what other word was there to 
describe bringing artillery to bear upon mosquitoes? 
    From remarks they progressed to effects, the Duc, half-drunk, abandoned 
himself in Zephyr's arms, and for thirty long minutes sucked that lovely 
child's mouth while Hercule, exploiting the situation, buried his enormous 
engine in the Duc's anus. Blangis was all complacency, and without 
stirring, without the flicker of an eyelash, went on with his kissing as, 
virtually without noticing it, he changed sex. His companions all gave 
themselves over to other infamies, and then they sallied forth to coffee. 
As they had just played a multitude of silly little pranks, the atmosphere 
was calm, and this was perhaps the one coffee hour during the entire four 
months' outing when no fuck was shed. Duclos was already upon the tribune, 
awaiting the company; when everyone had taken his place, she addressed her 
auditors in this wise: 
    I had recently suffered a loss in my house, and it had a deep effect 
upon me in every sense. Eugenie, whom I loved with a passion and who, 
thanks to her most extraordinary complaisance in whatever was connected 
with the possibility of earning me money, had been especially useful to me, 
Eugenie, I say, had just been spirited away. It happened in the strangest 
fashion: a domestic, having first paid the price settled upon, came to 
conduct her, so he said, to a supper that was to be held outside the city; 
her participation in the affair would be worth seven or eight louis. I was 
not at the house at the time the transaction took place, for I should never 
have allowed her to leave with someone I didn't know, but the domestic 
applied directly to her and she agreed to go. . . . I have never seen her 
since. 
    "Nor shall you ever again," said Desgranges. "The party proposed was 
her last one, and it will be my agreeable task to add the denouement to 
that lovely girl's history." 
    "Great God!" cried Duclos. "She was so beautiful, that girl . . . only 
twenty, her face was so sweet, she was so delicate. . . ." 
    "And, one might add, her body was the most superb in Paris," Desgranges 
said. "All those charms conspired to her undoing, but go on with what you 
were saying, let's not become mired down in circumstances." 
    Lucile was the girl who took her place, Duclos continued, both in my 
heart and in my bed, but not in the household's activities, for she had not 
by any means Eugenie's submissive temper nor her great understanding. 
    All the same, it was to her hands I entrusted, not long afterward, that 
certain Benedictine prior who used to pay me a visit now and again, and who 
had in past times been wont to frolic with Eugenie. After the good father 
had warmed her cunt with his tongue and thoroughly sucked her mouth, the 
major phase of the process began: Lucile took the whip and plied it lightly 
over his prick and balls, and he discharged from a limp machine; the gentle 
rubbing, the mere application of the lash produced his orgasm. His greatest 
pleasure used to consist in watching the girl slash with her whip at the 
drops of fuck as they spattered from his prick. 
    The next day, I myself took charge of a gentleman upon whose bare 
behind one had to lay one hundred carefully counted whip strokes; before 
his beating he prepared himself by kissing one's behind and while being 
lashed he frigged himself. 
A third, with whom I had dealings some time later, had even heavier demands 
to satisfy; he also gilded each detail with additional ceremony: I received 
notice of his intended arrival a week in advance, and during that time I 
had to avoid washing any part of my body, and above all was to spare my 
cunt, my ass, my mouth; and furthermore, as soon as I learned he was to 
come, I selected three cat-o'-nine-tails and immersed them in a pot full of 
mixed urine and shit, and kept the whips soaking there until he presented 
himself. He was an elderly collector of the salt tax, a man of considerable 
means, a widower, without children, and he treated himself to such parties 
all the time. The first thing that interested him was to determine whether 
I had scrupulously abstained from ablutions, as he had enjoined me; I 
assured him I had followed his instructions to the letter; he wished proof, 
and began by applying a kiss to my lips. This experience must have 
convinced him, for he then suggested we go up to the room, and I realized 
that had he, upon kissing me, discovered I had cleansed my mouth in any way 
at all, he would not have wished to continue with the party. We go up 
together, as I say, he regards the whips steeping in the pot, then, bidding 
me undress, he sets to sniffing every part of my body, above all the 
orifices he had expressly forbidden me to wash; as I had honored his 
prescription in perfect faith and in every article, he doubtless discovered 
the aroma he desired to be there, for I saw him grow restless, appear 
anxious to be off, and heard him exclaim: "Ah, by fuck, that's what I want, 
that's just what I want!" I proceeded to fondle his ass: it was sheathed in 
what positively resembled boiled leather in color, texture, and toughness. 
After having spent a minute caressing, handling, poking about those 
gnarled, storm-beaten hindquarters, I seized a cat-o'-nine-tails and, 
without drying it, I gave him ten stinging cuts, putting all my strength 
into the blows; but this beginning produced not a tremor, he not only 
remained impassive, but my blows put not so much as the faintest scratch 
upon that unshakable citadel. Having opened with this prologue, I sank 
three of my fingers into his anus, took firm hold, and began to rattle him 
with might and main, but our man was insensible to the same degree here as 
elsewhere; my struggles failed to be acknowledged by so much as a sigh. 
These two initial ceremonies completed, his turn came to act; I lay belly 
down upon the bed, he knelt, spread my buttocks, and alternately shot his 
pilgrim tongue into this hole and into the other, and they, one may be 
sure, were, in keeping with his instructions, not entirely unaromatic. 
After he had done considerable sucking, I took up another whip, laid on a 
second time and socratized him again, he knelt as before and returned to 
his licking, and so it went, each of us doing his part at least fifteen 
times over. Finally, giving me further instructions and bidding me guide my 
movements in consonance with the state of his prick, which I was to observe 
carefully but which I was not to touch, when next he knelt I unleashed my 
turd. It shot squarely into his face, he fell back, exclaimed that I was an 
insolent creature, and discharged while frigging himself and while uttering 
cries that might have been heard in the street had I not taken the 
precaution of drawing the shutters. But the turd fell to the floor, he did 
naught but stare at and smell it, neither putting it in his mouth nor even 
touching it; he had received at least two hundred lashes, and I may assure 
you . . . his body bore not a trace of what it had sustained, his horny 
ass, fortified by years of rude usage, betrayed not the least mark. 
    "Well, by God's bum button!" chortled the Duc, "there's an ass, 
President, worth as much as the curiosity you drag about." 
    "Oh yes, yes," said Curval, a stammer in his voice, for Aline was 
frigging him, "yes indeed, that fellow seems to have both my buttocks and 
my tastes, for, you know, I am infinitely opposed to the use of the bidet, 
but I prefer a longer abstinence: I usually set the period at a minimum of 
three months." 
    "President, your prick's stiff," the Duc said. 
    "Do you think so?" Curval replied. "Faith, you'd best consult Aline 
here, she'll be able to tell you what's what, as for myself, you know, I'm 
so accustomed to that particular state of affairs that I rarely notice when 
it ends or when it begins. There is only one thing I can tell you with 
complete confidence, and that is that at this very moment I'd hugely like 
to have my hands upon a very impure whore; I'd like her to present me with 
a bucketful of shit, fill a bowl to above the rim, I'd like her ass to 
stink from shit, I'd like her cunt to smell like a beach covered with dead 
fish. But hold! Therèse, O thou whose filth is as old as the hills, thou 
who since baptism hast not wiped thine ass, and whose infamous cunt breeds 
a pestilence three leagues on every side, come bring all that to my nose's 
delectation, I beg thee, and to that put a fine wet turd, if 'twould please 
thee." 
    Therèse approaches, with foul and evil charms, with parts disgusting 
and withered and wounded she rubs the magistrate's face, upon his nose she 
excretes the desired turd, Aline does frig amain, the libertine discharges, 
and Duclos therewith resumes the story she has to tell. 
    An elderly rascal, who used to receive a new girl every day for the 
operation I am going to describe, besought one of my friends to persuade me 
to visit him, and at the same time I was given information about the 
ceremony regularly performed at the lecher's home. I arrive, he examines me 
with a phlegmatic glance, the kind of glance one encounters among habitual 
libertines, and which in an instant arrives at an infallible estimate of 
the object under scrutiny. 
    "I have been told you have a fine ass," said he in a drawling tone, 
"and as for the past sixty years I have had a decided weakness for fine 
cheeks, I should like to see whether there is any foundation to your 
reputation . . . lift your skirts." 
    That last phrase, energetically spoken, sufficed as an order; not only 
did I offer a view of the treasure, but I moved it as near as possible to 
his connoisseur's nose. At first I stand erect, then little by little I 
bend forward and exhibit the object of his devotion in every form and 
aspect most apt to please him. With each movement, I feel the old 
scoundrel's hands wander over the surface, scouting the terrain, probing 
the geography, sometimes creating a more consolidated effect, sometimes 
attempting to give it a more generous cast, compressing here, broadening 
there. 
    "The hole is ample, very ample," says he, "appearances attest a furious 
sodomistical prostitution." 
    "Alas, Monsieur," I concede, "we are living in an age when men are so 
capricious that in order to please them, one must indeed be prepared for 
virtually anything, and consent to it all." 
    Whereupon I feel his mouth glue itself hermetically to my asshole, and 
his tongue strive to penetrate into the chasm; I seize my opportunity, as I 
have been advised, and profiting from my situation, slide out, directly 
upon his probing tongue, the warmest, most humid, densest eructation. The 
maneuver displeases him not at all, but on the other hand does little to 
animate him; finally, after I have unleashed half a dozen winds, he gets to 
his feet, leads me to his bed, and points to an earthenware crock in which 
four cat-o'-nine-tails are marinating. Above the crock hang several whips 
suspended from gilded hooks. 
    "Arm yourself," murmurs the roue, "take a cat-o'-nine-tails and one of 
those other weapons, here is my ass. As you observe, it is dry, lean, and 
exceedingly well seasoned. Touch it." 
    I do so; he continues: 
    "You notice," says he, "that it's old, toughened by severe treatment, 
and it's not to be warmed save by the most incredibly excessive attacks. I 
am going to keep myself in this posture," and while speaking he stretched 
out upon the bed and rested his knees on the floor. "Employ those 
instruments, first one, then the other, now the cat-o'-nine-tails, now the 
whip. This is going to take a little time, but you will receive an 
unequivocal sign when the climax approaches. As soon as you see something 
out of the ordinary happening to this ass of mine, hold yourself in 
readiness to imitate what you see it doing; we will then exchange places, I 
shall kneel down before your splendid buttocks, you shall do what you shall 
have observed me do, and I'll discharge. But above all do not become 
impatient; I warn you once again: this business is not to be accomplished 
in haste." 
    I begin, I alternate weapons in accordance with the prescription. But, 
my God! what nonchalance, what stoicism! I was drenched in sweat; that my 
strokes be more freely applied he had suggested I roll my sleeves to above 
the elbow. Three-quarters of an hour went by and I was still beating him, 
putting every ounce of strength into my blows, sometimes tearing at his 
stubborn flesh with the cat-o'-nine-tails, sometimes with the steel-tipped 
thongs, three-quarters of an hour, I say, and it seemed as if I had got 
nowhere. Still, silent, our lecher was as quiet as death; one might say he 
was mutely savoring the interior stirrings of delight quickened by this 
ordeal, but there was no outward sign of pleasure, not a single indication 
of pleasure's influence even upon his skin. I proceeded. By and by I heard 
a clock strike two and realized I had been at work three whole hours; then 
all of a sudden I see his rump rise, his buttocks part, I slash and send my 
thongs whistling between certain crevices; a turd emerges, falls, I whip 
away, my blows send the shit flying to the floor. 
    "Courage," I say to him, "we're within sight of port." 
    And then my man gets up in a rage; his prick, hard and in fierce 
revolt, is glued to his belly. 
    "Do what I did," says he, "imitate me, I need nothing now but shit and 
you'll have my fuck." 
    I promptly adopt the position he has just abandoned, he kneels as he 
said he would, and into his mouth I lay an egg which I have been holding in 
store for him for three days. As he receives it his fuck leaps, and he 
flings himself backward, shouting with joy, but without swallowing, and 
indeed without keeping the turd in his mouth for more than a second. In 
conclusion let me say, Messieurs, that, your Lordships excepted, for you 
are without doubt superior examples of this species, I have seen few men 
convulse more frantically, few who have manifested a more trenchant 
delight; he came nigh to swooning as he gave vent to his fuck. That seance 
was worth two louis. 
    But no sooner did I return to the house than I found Lucile come to 
grips with another old chap who, without having laid a finger upon her, 
without any preliminaries, had simply ordered her to fustigate him from the 
small of the back to just above the knees; Lucile was using a cat-o'-nine-
tails soaked in vinegar, was endowing her blows with all the force she 
could muster, and this individual ended his ritual by having her suck him. 
The girl knelt before him when he gave her the signal and, adjusting his 
old weary balls so that they dangled upon her teats, she took the flabby 
engine in her mouth whereinto the chastened sinner hastened to weep for his 
transgressions. 
    And Duclos having therewith put a period to what she had to relate that 
day, and the supper hour not yet having arrived, Messieurs delivered 
themselves of a few smutty comments while waiting. 
    "You must be done up, President," gibed the Duc. "I've seen you 
discharge twice today, and you're hardly accustomed to such feats of 
liberality." 
    "Let's wager on a third," replied Curval, who was pawing Duclos' 
buttocks. 
    "Why, certainly, as much as you like and as often," the Duc returned. 
    "And I ask for only one condition," Curval said, "and that is to be 
allowed to do whatever I like." 
    "Oh, I'm afraid not," the Duc answered, "for you know very well that 
there are certain things we have mutually promised not to do before the 
appointed time indicated on our schedules: having ourselves fucked was one 
of them - before proceeding to that we were, according to prior agreement, 
to wait until some example of that passion were cited to us, but by your 
common request, gentlemen, we ceded on that point and suspended the 
restriction. There are many other pleasures and modes of taking them we 
ought to have forbidden ourselves until the moment they were embodied in 
story, and which we have instead tolerated, provided the experiments are 
conducted in privacy - in, that is to say, either our closets or our 
bedchambers. You, President, surrendered yourself to one with Aline just a 
short while ago; did she utter that piercing scream for no reason at all? 
and has she no motive for keeping her breast covered now? Very well then, 
choose from amongst those mysterious modes, or from one of those we permit 
in public, and I'll wager one hundred louis you'll not be able to derive 
your third from one of those legitimate sources." 
    The President then asked whether he might be allowed to repair to the 
boudoir at the end of the corridor and to take along the subjects he deemed 
necessary to success; his request was granted, although it was stipulated 
that Duclos would have to be witness to the goings on, and that her word 
would be accepted upon the existence of the discharge or upon Curval's 
failure to produce it. 
    "Agreed," said the President, "I accept the conditions." 
    And by way of a preliminary, he had Duclos give him five hundred lashes 
within view of the assembly; that accomplished, he led away his dear and 
devoted friend Constance, in whose behalf his colleagues besought Curval to 
do nothing which might damage her pregnancy; the President also took with 
him his daughter Adelaide, Augustine, Zelmire, Celadon, Zephyr, Therèse, 
Fanchon, Champville, Desgranges, Duclos, of course, and three fuckers 
besides. 
    "Why fuck my eyes!" exclaimed the Duc, "there was nothing in the 
bargain that said he could recruit an army." 
    But the Bishop and Durcet took the President's side in the matter of 
manpower and firmly reminded Blangis that the terms of the wager included 
no limitation upon numbers. The President led his band away, and at the end 
of thirty minutes, an interval the Bishop, Durcet, and the Duc, with the 
few subjects remaining to them, did not pass in holy orison, thirty minutes 
later, I say, Constance and Zelmire returned in tears, and the President 
reappeared soon afterward with the rest of his force; Duclos then related 
the mighty things he had done, paid homage to his vigor, and certified that 
in all fairness and justice he merited the crown of myrtle. The reader will 
kindly allow us to suppress the text of Duclos' report, for the 
architecture of our novel bids us conceal the precise circumstances of what 
transpired in that remote boudoir; but Curval had won his wager, and that, 
we consider, is the essential point. 
    "These hundred louis," he remarked upon receiving them from the Duc, 
"will be useful in paying a fine which, I fear, shall soon be levied upon 
me." 
    And here is still another thing the explanation of which we pray the 
reader will permit us to postpone until the appropriate moment arrives; for 
the time being he need but observe how that rascal Curval would anticipate 
his misdeeds well in advance, and how, with unruffled calm, he would accept 
the fact that they would bring down upon him certain and merited 
punishment, a fatal necessity he faced unflinchingly and with a proud 
smile. 
    Between that time and the opening of the next day's narrations 
absolutely nothing out of the ordinary transpired, and therefore we propose 
to conduct the reader to the auditorium at once. 




THE EIGHTEENTH DAY
    Beautiful, radiant, bejeweled, grown more brilliant with each passing 
day, Duclos thus started the eighteenth session's stories: 
    A tall and stoutly constructed creature named Justine had just been 
added to my entourage; she was twenty-five, five feet six inches tall, with 
the husky arms and solid legs of a barmaid, but her features were fine all 
the same, her skin was clear and smooth, and she had as splendid a body as 
one might wish. As my establishment used to be swarming with a crowd of 
those old rakehells who are incapable of experiencing the faintest pleasure 
save when heated by the lash or torture, I thought that a pensionnaire like 
Justine, furnished as she was with the forearm of a blacksmith, could be 
nothing but a very real asset. The day following her arrival, I decided to 
put her fustigatory talents to the test; I had been given to understand she 
wielded a whip with prodigious skill, and hence matched her against an old 
commissar of the quarter whom she was to flog from chest to shin and then, 
on the other side, from the middle of his back to his calves. The operation 
over with, the libertine simply hoisted the girl's skirts and planted his 
load upon her buttocks. Justine comported herself like a true heroine of 
Cythera, and our good old martyr avowed to me afterward that I had got my 
hands on a treasure, and that in all his days no one had ever whipped him 
as that rascal had. 
    To demonstrate how much I counted upon her contribution to our little 
community, a few days later I arranged a meeting between Justine and an old 
veteran of many a campaign on the fields of love; her required a round 
thousand strokes all over his body, he would have no part of himself 
spared, and when he was afire and nicely bloodied, the girl had to piss 
into her cupped hand and smear her urine over those areas of his body which 
looked to be most seriously molested. This lotion rubbed on, the heavy 
labor had to be begun again, then he would discharge, the girl would 
carefully collect his fuck, once again using her cupped hand, and she would 
give him a second massage, this time employing the balm wrung from his 
prick. Another triumph for my new colleague, and every succeeding day 
brought her further and more impassioned acclaim; but it was impossible to 
exercise her arm on the champion who presented himself this time. 
    This extraordinary man would have nothing of the feminine but womanish 
dress: the wearer of the costume had to be a man; in other words, the roue 
wanted to be spanked by a man got up as a girl. And what was the instrument 
she had to use on him? Don't think for a moment he was content with a birch 
ferule or even a cat, no, he demanded a bundle of osier switches wherewith 
very barbarously one had to tear his buttocks. Actually, this particular 
affair seeming to have somewhat of the flavor of sodomy, I felt I ought not 
become too deeply involved in it; but as he was one of Fournier's former 
and most reliable clients, a man who had been truly attached to our house 
in fair weather and in foul, and who, furthermore, might, thanks to his 
position, be able to render us some service, I raised no objections and, 
having prettily disguised a young lad of eighteen who sometimes availed us 
of his services and who had a very attractive face, I presented him, armed 
with a handful of switches, to his opponent. 
    And a very entertaining contest it was - you may well imagine how eager 
I was to observe it. He began with a careful study of his pretended maiden, 
and having found him, evidently, much to his liking, he opened with five or 
six kisses upon the youth's mouth: those kisses would have looked peculiar 
from three miles away; next, he exhibited his cheeks, and in all his 
behavior and words seeming to take the young man for a girl, he told him to 
fondle his buttocks and knead them just a little rigorously; the lad, whom 
I had told exactly what to expect, did everything asked of him. 
    "Well, let's be off," said the bawd, "ply those switches, spare not to 
strike hard." 
    The youth catches up the bundle of withes and therewith, swinging right 
merrily, lays fifty slashing blows upon a pair of buttocks which seem only 
to thirst for more; already definitely marked by those two score and ten 
stripes, the libertine hurls himself upon his masculine flagellatrice, 
draws up her petticoats, one hand verifies her sex, the other fervently 
clutches her buttocks, he knows not which altar to bow down before first, 
the ass finally captures his primary attentions, he glues his mouth to its 
hole, much ardor in his expression. Ah, what a difference between the 
worship Nature is said to prescribe and that other which is said to outrage 
her! O God of certain justice, were this truly an outrage, would the homage 
be paid with such great emotion? Never was woman's ass kissed as was that 
lad's; three or four times over his lover's tongue entirely disappeared 
into the anus; returning to his former position at last, "O dear child," 
cried he, "resume your operation." 
    Further flagellation ensued, but as it was livelier, the patient met 
this new assault with far more courage and intrepidity. Blood makes its 
appearance, another stroke brings his prick bounding up, and he engages the 
young object of his transports to seize it without an instant's delay. 
While the latter manipulates him, he wishes to render the youth the same 
service, lifts up the boy's skirts again, but it's a prick he's now gone in 
quest of; he touches it, grasps, shakes, pulls it, and soon introduces it 
into his mouth. After these initial caresses, he calls for a third round of 
blows and receives a storm of them. This latest experience puts him in a 
perfect tumult; he flings his Adonis upon the bed, lies down upon him, 
simultaneously toys with his own prick and his companion's, then presses 
one upon the other, glues his lips to the boy's mouth and, having succeeded 
in warming him by means of these caresses, he procures him the divine 
pleasure at the same moment he is overwhelmed himself: both discharge in 
harmony. Enchanted by the scene, our libertine sought to placate my risen 
indignation, and at last coaxed a promise from me to arrange for further 
delights in the same kind, both with that young fellow and with any others 
I could find for him. I attempted to work at his conversion, I assured him 
I had some charming girls who would be happy to flog him and who could do 
so quite as well; no, said he, none of that, he would not so much as look 
at what I had to offer him. 
    "Oh, I can readily believe it," said the Bishop. "When one has a 
decided taste for men, there's no changing, the difference between boy and 
girl is so extreme that one's not apt to be tempted to try what is patently 
inferior." 
    "Monseigneur," said the President, "you have broached a thesis which 
merits a two-hour dissertation." 
    "And which will always conclude by giving further support to my 
contention," said the Bishop, "because the fact that a boy is superior to a 
girl is beyond doubt or dispute." 
    "Beyond contradiction too," Curval agreed, "but nevertheless one might 
still inform you that a few objections have been here and there raised to 
your doctrine and that, for a certain order of pleasures, such as Martaine 
and Desgranges shall discuss, a girl is to be preferred to a boy." 
    "That I deny," said the Bishop with emphasis, "and even for such 
pleasures as you allude to the boy is worth more than the girl. Consider 
the problem from the point of view of evil, evil almost always being 
pleasure's true and major charm; considered thus, the crime must appear 
greater when perpetrated upon a being of your identical sort than when 
inflicted upon one which is not, and this once established, the delight 
automatically doubles." 
    "Yes," said Curval, "but that despotism, that empire, that delirium 
born of the abuse of one's power over the weak. . . ." 
    "But the same is no less true in the other case," the Bishop insisted. 
"If the victim is yours, thoroughly in your power, that supremacy which 
when using women you think better established than when using men, is based 
upon pure prejudice, upon nothing, and results merely from the custom 
whereby females are more ordinarily submitted to your caprices than are 
males. But give up that popular superstition for a moment, view the thing 
equitably and, provided the man is bound absolutely by your chains and by 
the same authority you exert over women, you will obtain the idea of a 
greater crime; your lubricity ought hence to increase at least twofold." 
    "I am of the Bishop's mind," Durcet joined in, "and once it is certain 
that sovereignty is fully established, I believe the abuse of power more 
delicious when exercised at the expense of one's peer than at a woman's." 
    "Gentlemen," said the Duc, "I should greatly prefer you to postpone 
your discussions until mealtime. I believe these hours have been reserved 
for listening to the narrations, and it would seem to me proper were you to 
refrain from employing them upon philosophical exchanges." 
    "He is right," said Curval. "Go on with your story, Duclos." 
    And that agreeable directress of Cytherean sport plunged again into the 
matter she had to relate. 
    Another elderly man, said she, this one a clerk at parliament, paid me 
a call one morning, and as during Fournier's administration he had been 
accustomed to dealing exclusively with me, tradition bade him solicit an 
interview with me now. Our conference consisted in slapping his face with 
gradually increasing force, and in frigging him the while; that is to say, 
one had at first to slap him gently, then, as his prick assumed 
consistency, one slowly augmented the force of one's blows, and finally a 
series of truly bone-shattering cuffs would provoke his ejaculation. I had 
so well apprehended the precise nature of his eccentricity that my 
twentieth slap brought his fuck springing out. 
    "The twentieth, you say? Why, by Jesus," exclaimed the Bishop, "my 
prick would have gone dead limp by the third." 
    "There you are, my friend," the Duc declared, "to each his own peculiar 
mania, we ought never blame nor wonder at another's; tolerance, I say. Say 
on, Duclos, give us one more and have done." 
    My last example for the evening, said Duclos, originally was told to me 
by one of my friends; she had been living for two years with a man whose 
prick never stiffened until one had first bestowed a score of fillips upon 
his nose and tweaked it, pulled his ears till they bled, and bitten his 
buttocks, chewed his prick, nipped his balls. Aroused by these potent 
preliminary titillations, his prick would shoot aloft like a stallion's, 
and while swearing like a demon he'd almost always discharge upon the 
visage of the girl at whose hands he had been receiving this exhilarating 
treatment. 
    Of all that had been recounted during that afternoon's sitting, only 
the masculine fustigations had affected their Lordships' brains which, now 
passing hot, were only cooled after prolonged use of the fantasy which had 
fired their enthusiasm; thus it was the Duc had Hercule flog him until 
blood seeped from his pores, Durcet employed Invictus to the same effect, 
the Bishop made use of Antinoüs, and Bum-Cleaver ministered to Curval. The 
Bishop, who had done nothing that day, did finally discharge at the orgies, 
they say, while eating the turd Zelamir had been preparing for forty-eight 
hours. And then they went to bed. 




THE NINETEENTH DAY
    That morning, after having made some observations upon the shit the 
subjects were producing for lubricious purposes, the friends decided that 
the society ought to try something Duclos had spoken of in her narrations: 
I am referring to the suppression of bread and soup from all the tables 
save Messieurs'. These two articles were withdrawn, and replaced by twice 
the former quantity of fowl and game. They hoped to remark some 
improvement, and in less than a week an essential difference in the 
community's excrements was indeed perceived: they were more mellow, softer, 
dissolved more readily, had an infinitely more subtle flavor, and the 
friends discovered that d'Aucourt's advice to Duclos had been that of a 
consummate libertine thoroughly penetrated with an appreciation of such 
matters. It was pointed out, however, that this new diet might have some 
effect upon breaths: 
    "Well, what does that matter?" asked Curval, to whom the Duc had 
addressed his objection; "'tis very faulty reasoning to maintain that, to 
give pleasure, a woman's mouth or a youth's must be absolutely clean and 
sweet smelling. Setting aside all idiosyncrasy for a moment, I most 
willingly grant you that he who requires stinking breath and a foul mouth 
is moved by depravation only, but for your part you must grant me that a 
mouth entirely bereft of odor gives not the slightest pleasure when kissed. 
There must always be some kind of spice to the thing, some flavor there, 
for where's the joy if it's not stung alive? the joy's asleep, I say, and 
it's only waked by a little filth. However clean may be the mouth, the 
lover who sucks it assuredly does an unclean thing, and there is no doubt 
at all in his mind that it is that very uncleanness that pleases him. Give 
a somewhat greater degree of strength to the impulse and you'll want that 
mouth to be impure. If it fall short of smelling of rot or the cadaver, 
well, be patient, the taste will develop, but that it have nothing but an 
odor of milk and honey or infancy, that, I tell you, is insufferable. And 
so the diet we're going to subject them to will, at the worst, lead not at 
all to corruption, but only to a certain alteration, and that is all that's 
necessary." 
    The morning searches brought nothing to light . . . the youngsters were 
keeping strict watch over their conduct. No one requested toilet 
permission, and the company sat down at table. Adelaide, one of the 
servants at the meal, having been enjoined by Durcet to fart in a champagne 
glass, and having been unable to comply, was directly entered in the fatal 
book by her unfeeling husband who, since the beginning of the week, had 
been continually endeavoring to find her at fault. 
    Coffee came next; it was handed round by Cupidon, Giton, Michette, and 
Sophie. The Duc thigh-fucked Sophie, and while so doing had her shit upon 
his hand; the nobleman took that pretty little packet and smeared it over 
his face, the Bishop did precisely the same thing with Giton and Curval 
with Michette, but as for Durcet, he popped his little device into 
Cupidon's mouth as that charming boy squeezed out his turd. There were, 
notwithstanding, no discharges and, having risen from their nap, Messieurs 
went to hear Duclos. 
    A man we had never seen previously, said that amiable whore, came to 
the house and proposed a rather unusual ceremony: he wished to be tied to 
one side of a stepladder; we secured his thighs and waist to the third rung 
and, raising his arms above his head, tied his wrists to the uppermost 
step. He was naked. Once firmly bound, he had to be exposed to the most 
ferocious beating, clubbed with the cat's handle when the knots at the tips 
of the cords were worn out. He was naked, I repeat, there was no need to 
lay a finger upon him, nor did he even touch himself, but after having 
received a savage pounding his monstrous instrument rose like a rocket, it 
was seen to sway and bounce between the ladder's rungs, hovering like a 
pendulum and, soon after, impetuously launch its fuck into the middle of 
the room. He was unbound, he paid, and that was all. 
    The following day he sent us one of his friends whose buttocks and 
thighs, member and balls had to be pricked with a golden needle. Not until 
he was covered with blood did he discharge. I handled that commission 
myself, and as he constantly shouted to me to thrust deeper, I had almost 
to bury the needle in his glans before seeing his fuck squirt into my palm. 
As he unleashed it, he thrust his face against mine, sucked my mouth 
prodigiously, and that was all there was to it. 
    A third - and he too was an acquaintance of his two predecessors - 
ordered me to flail every bit of his body with nettles. I soon had him 
streaming blood, he eyed himself in a mirror, and it was not before he saw 
his body reduced to a scarlet shambles that he let fly his fuck, without 
touching anything, fondling anything, without requiring anything else of 
me. 
    Those excesses entertained me hugely, I took a secret delight in 
participating in them; and all my whimsical clients were equally delighted 
with me. It was at about the period of those three scenes that a Danish 
nobleman, having been sent to me for pleasure parties of a very different 
character, which others have been designated to discuss, had the imprudence 
to arrive at my establishment with ten thousand francs in diamonds, as much 
in other gems, and five hundred louis in cash. The prize was too handsome 
to be allowed to get away; between the two of us, Lucile and I managed to 
rob the Dane of his last sou. He thought to lodge a complaint, but as I 
used to pay a heavy bribe to the police, and as in those days one did just 
about whatever one pleased with gold, the gentleman was ordered to put a 
stop to his wailing, and his belongings became mine, or rather most of them 
did, for, in order to assure myself of little clear title to that treasure, 
I had to yield a few precious stones to the minions of the law. Never have 
I committed a theft, and I would have you remark this interesting fact, 
without encountering some stroke of good fortune the next day; this latest 
windfall was a new client, but one of those daily clients one may truly 
consider a brothel's bread and butter. 
    This individual was an old courtier who, weary of the homages he used 
unendingly to receive in the palaces of kings, like to visit whores and 
enjoy a change of role. He wanted to start with me; very well, said I, and 
we began without further ado. I had to make him recite his lessons and 
recite his little speeches, and every time he made a mistake, he had to get 
down on his knees and receive, sometimes on his knuckles, sometimes on his 
behind, vigorous blows of a leathern ferule such as the regents use in 
schoolrooms. It was also my task to keep a sharp eye out for signs of 
emotion; once the fire had been lit, I would snatch up his prick and shake 
it skillfully, scolding him all the while, calling him a little libertine, 
a very scurvy fellow, a worry to His Majesty, and other childish names 
which would cause him to come very voluptuously. The identical ceremony was 
to be executed five times each week at my establishment, but always with a 
different and properly instructed girl, and for this service I received a 
stipend of twenty-five louis per month. I knew so many women in Paris I had 
no trouble promising him what he asked and keeping my word; I had that 
charming pupil in my house for a decade, toward the end of which period he 
decided to pack his bags and go off to pursue his studies in hell. 
    However, I too was aging with the passing years, and although I had the 
kind of face which retains its beauty, I was beginning to notice that my 
visitors were men more and more often conveyed to me by whim and accident. 
I still had some staunch and dependable suitors even at thirty-six, and the 
rest of the adventures in which I took a hand belong to the period between 
that time and my fortieth year. 
    Though thirty-six years old, as I say, the libertine, whose mania I am 
going to relate in closing today's session, would have nothing to do with 
anyone else. He was an abbot of sixty or thereabouts, for I received no one 
but gentlemen of a certain age, and every woman who would like to seek her 
fortune in our trade will doubtless see fit to impose the same rules 
barring irresponsible youth from her house. The holy man arrives, and as 
soon as we are closeted together he begs to see my bum. 
    "Ah, yes, there's the world's finest ass," he says admiringly. "But, 
unfortunately, that is not the apparatus which is to provide me with the 
pittance I intend to consume. Here, take hold," says he, putting his 
buttocks into my hands, "that's the source whence all good things do come. 
. . . Be so kind as to help me shit." 
    I bring up a porcelain pot and place it upon my knees, the abbot backs 
toward me, stoops, I press his anus, pry it open, and, to be brief, agitate 
it in every way I think likely to hasten his evacuation. It takes place, an 
enormous turd fills the bowl, I offer it to its author, he seizes it, 
precipitates himself upon it, devours it, and discharges after fifteen 
minutes of the most violent flogging which I administer upon the same 
behind that shortly before laid such a splendid egg for his breakfast. He 
swallowed it all; he had so nicely judged the situation that his sperm did 
not appear until the last mouthful vanished. All the while I plied my whip, 
I excited him with steady stream of comments such as: "Well, then, little 
rascal, what's this?" and, "Why, here's a nasty little chap, can you really 
eat shit that way?" and, "I'll teach you, you funny little whoreson 
bastard; perform such disgraceful things, will you?" 
    And it was by dint of these actions and speeches that the libertine 
attained the summit of joy. 
    At this point, Curval was moved to give the company a before-supper 
demonstration in fact of what Duclos had described in words. He summoned 
Fanchon, she extracted shit from him, and the libertine devoured it while 
the old sorceress drubbed him with all the strength of her skinny but 
sinewed arm. That lubric exhibition having inspired his confreres, they 
began hunting for shit wherever any might be found, and then Curval, who 
had not discharged, mixed the rest of his turd with Therèse's, whom he had 
excrete without further ado. 
    The Bishop, accustomed to making use of his brother's delights, did the 
same thing with Duclos, the Duc with Marie, little Durcet with Louison. It 
was atrocious, why, it was unthinkable to employ such decrepit old horrors 
when such pretty objects stood ready at one's beck and call; but, oh how 
well 'tis known, satiety is born in the arms of abundance, and when in the 
very thick of voluptuous delights one takes an even keener pleasure in 
torments. 
    These unclean stunts over and done with, and the doing having cost only 
one discharge, and 'twas the Bishop who produced it, the friends went to 
table. Having involved themselves in a series of foul activities, they 
thought best not to change horses in midstream, and for the orgies would 
have only the four old duennas and the four storytellers; everyone else was 
packed off to bed. Their Lordships said so many things, did so many more, 
that all four came like geysers, and our libertine quartet did not retire 
until overcome with drink and exhaustion. 




THE TWENTIETH DAY
    Something very humorous indeed had occurred the night before: 
absolutely drunk, the Duc, instead of gaining his bedchamber, had installed 
himself in young Sophie's bed, and despite all the child could say, for she 
knew perfectly well what he was doing violated the rules, he would not be 
budged, and continued with great heat to maintain he was damned well where 
he belonged, namely, in his bed with Aline, who was listed as his wife for 
the night. But as he was allowed certain privileges with Aline which were 
still forbidden with the little girls, when he sought to put Sophie in the 
posture that favored the amusements of his choice, and when the poor child, 
to whom no one had as yet ever done such a thing, felt the massive head of 
the Duc's prick hammer at her young behind's narrow gate and contrive to 
batter a thoroughfare, the poor little creature fell to uttering dreadful 
screeches, and, leaping up, fled naked about the room. The Duc followed 
hard on her heels, swearing like a demon, still mistaking her for Aline. 
"Buggress!" he roared, "dost think it the first time?" And fancying he has 
overtaken her and has her at last, he falls upon Zelmire's bed, thinking it 
his own, and embraces that little girl, supposing Aline has decided to 
behave reasonably. The same proceedings with Zelmire as a moment ago with 
Sophie, because the Duc most decidedly wishes to attain his objective; but 
immediately Zelmire perceives what he is about, she imitates her companion 
and duplicates her resistance, pronounces a terrible scream, and leaps 
away. 
    However, Sophie, the first to take to flight, collects her wits and, 
seeing full well that there is but one way to put an end to this quid pro 
quo, sets off in search of light and some cool-headed individual capable of 
restoring order, and consequently she thinks to look for Duclos. But Duclos 
had behaved like a pig at the orgies and got herself blind drunk, Sophie 
comes upon her stretched out unconscious in the middle of the Duc's bed, 
and fails absolutely to bring her to her senses. Desperate, knowing not to 
whom under such circumstances she may apply, hearing all her comrades 
calling for help, she gathers up courage and enters Durcet's apartment; the 
financier is lying with his daughter, Constance, and Sophie blurts out what 
has been happening. Constance at any rate did rise from the bed, despite 
the efforts the drunken Durcet made to restrain her by saying he wanted to 
discharge; she took a candle and accompanied Sophie to the girls' chamber: 
she discovered the poor little dears, all in their nightgowns, clustered in 
the center of the room, and the Duc pursuing now one of them, now another, 
still persuaded he was dealing with no one but Aline, whom he swore was 
become a witch that night and had many shapes. Constance finally showed him 
his error, and entreating him to allow her to guide him back to his room, 
where, she assured him, he would find a very submissive Aline only too 
eager to do all he chose to demand of her, the Duc who, thoroughly besotted 
and acting as always in the very best of faith, really had no other design 
than to plant his staff in Aline's ass, let himself be taken to her; that 
lovely girl was there to greet him, and he went to bed; Constance withdrew 
from the room, and calm was restored generally. 
    They laughed very heartily all the next day over that nocturnal 
adventure, and the Duc declared that if, by great misfortune, he were in 
such a case to happen all accidentally to obliterate a maidenhead, he would 
not, so it seemed to him, be liable or justly subject to a fine because, 
intoxicated, he could not be held accountable for his actions; but, oh no, 
the others assured him, he was mistaken in that, he would indeed have to 
pay. 
    They breakfasted amidst their sultanas as usual, and all the little 
girls avowed they'd been furiously afraid. Not one, however, was found at 
fault despite the night's alarms; similarly, everything was in order in the 
boys' quarters, and coffee, like dinner, offering nothing extraordinary, 
they passed into the auditorium where Duclos, entirely set to rights after 
the previous evening's riot, amused the company with the following five 
episodes: 
    It was once again I, Messieurs, who went on the stage in the play I am 
about to describe to you. The other person in the drama was a medical man; 
the doctor's first act was to examine my buttocks, and as he came to the 
conclusion they were superb, he spent more than an hour doing nothing but 
kissing them. He at last confessed his little foibles: they were all 
connected with shit and shitting, as I had surmised, and knowing what was 
expected of me, I adopted the appropriate posture. I filled the white 
porcelain pot I used to employ for this sort of enterprise. Immediately he 
is the master of my turd, he raises it to his mouth and begins tucking it 
away; he has no sooner taken a bite than I pick up a bull's pizzle - that 
was the instrument wherewith I was to caress his bum - I shout threats and 
imprecations at him, then strike, scold him for the dreadful things he is 
wont to do, the infamous things, and without heeding me, the libertine 
swallows the last mouthful, discharges, and is off with the speed of light, 
having tossed a louis onto the table. 
    Shortly afterward another came to the house, and I entrusted him to 
Lucile, who had truly to struggle to make him discharge. He had first of 
all to be sure the turd that was to be served up to him originated with an 
old beggar woman, and to convince him, I had to have the old crone operate 
before his own eyes. I gave him a venerable dame of seventy, covered with 
ulcers and wens and other signs of erysipelas, and whose last tooth had 
fallen from her gums fifteen years before. "Good, that's excellent," said 
he, "precisely the sort I need." Then, enclosing himself with Lucile and 
the turd, that equally skillful, complacent, and determined girl had to 
excite him to the point at which he would eat that very mature lump. He 
sniffed it, stared at it, even touched it, but that was all, he could not 
seem to make himself go further. Whereupon Lucile, having to resort to 
something more persuasive than rhetoric, thrust the fire tongs into the 
fire and, drawing them out red-hot, announced she proposed to burn his 
buttocks if he did not obey her on the spot and eat his luncheon. Our man 
trembles, has another try: the same disgust, he recoils. As good as her 
word, Lucile lowers his breeches and, bringing to light an ass of very evil 
aspect and scarred all over, discolored and withered by operations in this 
same kind, she deftly singes his cheeks. The lecher swears, Lucile applies 
her iron again, now scorches and finally produces a very definite and 
sufficiently profound burn in the middle of his ass; pain screws him up to 
resolution at last, he bites off a mouthful, additional burnings excite him 
further, and little by little the work is completed. The downing of the 
last nibble of shit coincided with his discharge, and I have seen 
exceedingly few as violent; he emitted loud cries and screams, howled like 
a wolf and rolled on the floor; I thought he had been seized by a frenzy or 
an attack of epilepsy. Delighted with the patient understanding he had 
encountered in our house, the libertine promised to be my regular customer, 
provided I would give him the same girl but a different old woman each 
time. 
    "The more repulsive the source," said he, "the better you'll be paid 
for the yield. You have simply no idea," he added, "to what lengths my 
depravity carries me; I hardly dare acknowledge it to myself." 
    Upon his recommendation, one of his friends visited us the next day, 
and this individual's depravity carried him, in my opinion, a great deal 
further, for instead of a relatively mild branding, he had to be soundly 
beaten with red-hot tongs, and the author of the turd offered him had to be 
the oldest, filthiest, most disgusting thief we could find. A degenerate 
old valet of eighty, whom we had had in the house for ages, pleased him 
wonderfully well for his operation, and, rolling his eyes, smacking his 
lips, he gobbled up the old devil's turd while it was still warm and while 
the good Justine, using tongs heated to such a temperature they could 
hardly be held, thrashed his bum. And she was furthermore obliged to snatch 
up great bits of his flesh with the instrument, and all but roast them. 
    Another had his buttocks, belly, balls, and prick stabbed with a heavy 
cobbler's awl, and all this with more or less the same circumstances, that 
is to say, until he would eat a turd I presented to him in a chamber pot. 
He was not, however, curious about the turd's origins. 
    Messieurs, it is not easy to imagine to what lengths men are driven in 
the delirium of their inflamed imaginations. Have I not beheld one who, 
acting according to the same principles, required me to shower bone-
breaking blows of a cane upon him as he ate a turd which, before his own 
eyes, he had us fish up out of the depths of the house's privy? and his 
perfidious discharge did not flow into my mouth until he had devoured the 
last spoonful of that foul muck. 
    "Well, you know, everything's imaginable and even possible," said 
Curval as he pensively fondled Desgranges' buttocks. "I am convinced one 
can go still further than that." 
    "Further?" said the Duc who at that moment was mauling the bare behind 
of Adelaide, his wife for the day. "And what the devil would you have one 
do?" 
    "Worse!" replied Curval, something of a hiss in his voice. "It seems to 
me one never sufficiently exploits the possible." 
    "I entirely agree with the President," spoke up Durcet, then in the act 
of embuggering Antinoüs, "and I have the feeling my mind is capable of 
further improvements upon all those piggish stunts." 
    "I think I know what Durcet means," said the Bishop who, for the time 
being, was idle, or who rather had not yet begun to operate. 
    "Well, what the devil does he mean?" the Duc demanded to know. 
    Whereupon the Bishop stood up and went to Durcet's alcove; the two men 
whispered together, the Bishop then moved on to where Curval was, and the 
latter said, "That's it, exactly!" And then the Bishop spoke in the Duc's 
ear. 
    "By fuck!" His Highness exclaimed, "I'd never have thought of that 
one." 
    As these gentlemen said no more that might shed light on the thing, we 
have no way of knowing just what Durcet did mean or what the Duc declared 
he would never have thought of. And even were it that we knew, I believe we 
would be well advised to keep knowledge of the thing strictly to ourselves, 
at least in the interest of modesty, for there are an infinite number of 
things one ought merely to indicate, prudent circumspection requires that 
one keep a bridle on one's tongue; there are such things, are there not, as 
chaste ears? one may now and again encounter them, and I am absolutely 
convinced the reader has already had occasion to be grateful for the 
discretion we have employed in his regard; the further he reads on more 
secure shall be our claim to his sincerest praise upon this head, why, yes, 
we feel we may almost assure him of it even at this early stage. Well, 
whatever one may say, each one has his own soul to save, and of what 
punishment, both in this world and in the next, is he not deserving who all 
immoderately were to be pleased to divulge all the caprices, all the whims 
and tastes, all the clandestine horrors whereunto men are subject when 
their fancy is free and afire? 'twould be to reveal secrets which ought to 
be sunk in obscurity for humanity's sake, 'twould be to undertake the 
general corruption of manners and to precipitate his brethren in Jesus 
Christ into all the extravagances such tableaux might feature in very 
lively color and profusion; and God, Who seeth even unto the depths of our 
hearts, this puissant God Who hath made heaven and earth and Who must one 
day judge us, God alone knoweth whether we have any desire to hear 
ourselves reproached by Him for such crimes. 
    Messieurs put the finishing touches on several horrors they had begun; 
Curval, to cite one example, had Desgranges shit, the others occupied 
themselves with either that same distraction, or with some others not much 
more improving, and their Lordships then went to supper. At the orgies, 
Duclos having overheard the friends discussing the new diet we alluded to 
earlier, whose purpose was to render shit more abundant and more delicate, 
at the orgies, I say, Duclos noted that she was truly astonished to find 
connoisseurs like themselves unaware of the true secret whereby turds are 
made both very abundant and very tasty. Questioned about the measures which 
ought to be adopted, she said that there was but one: the subject should be 
given a mild indigestion; there was no need to make him eat what he did not 
like or what was unwholesome, but, by obliging him to eat hurriedly and 
between meals, the desired results could be obtained at once. The 
experiment was performed that same evening: Fanny was waked - no one had 
paid any attention to her, and she had gone to bed after supper - she was 
immediately required to eat four large plain cakes, and the next morning 
she furnished one of the biggest and most beautiful turds they had been 
able to procure from her up until that time. Duclos' suggested system was 
therefore approved, although they upheld their decision to do away with 
bread; Duclos said they were well advised to be rid of it; the fruits 
produced by her method, said she, would only be better. From that time on 
not a day passed but they'd gently upset those pretty youngsters' 
digestions in one way or another, and the results were simply beyond 
anything you could imagine. I mention this in passing so that, should any 
amateur be disposed to make use of the formula, he may be firmly persuaded 
there is none superior. 
    The remainder of the evening having brought nothing extraordinary, 
everyone retired in order to be freshly rested for the following day's 
wedding: the brilliant match to be made was destined to unite Colombe and 
Zelamir, and this ceremony was to be the basis for celebrating the third 
week's festival.