Pierre Louys: The She-Devils

“Several days later the second ceremony took place. I was again presented as a virgin before another audience and they had a little boy my age to cornhole me. The poor thing worked with all his might to get a big hard-on. Thus my mother graduated my experiences so that I got used to larger and larger pricks without too much trouble and with never an accident. Never in all my life have I ever bled from behind. I have an asshole made for cornholing.

“And another thing… It's really elemental. Every young girl wants to do the same things as her mother. The little daughters of actresses are wild with joy when they get a part at the age of eight. And the daughters of whores… when they first take a man they think… My dear, I don't really know how to speak well, but I wouldn't want you to think badly of mother because she sold me. You see me like I am. I don't roll around all over you like a monster, and I'm really not vicious, but I can assure you that when I was eight I was the happiest of little girls because I could be like my mother. And the times when she called me into her room and I saw her lying on a bed with a nude man, when I saw that all I had to do to give him a hard-on was to raise my little skirts, I was really happy! I was proud! I would let them stick it into me from my hole to my mouth. You know, a prick is the nicest present you can give a little girl.”

She sighed, turning her eyes away, and saw something she had completely forgotten.

“Oh,” she said. “You've got a hard-on!”

“But you're twenty years old, my little girl.”

“And do you think that that makes me less happy to have made you hard?” she said, throwing herself around my neck. “Why don't you say something? Do you want me to suck you?”

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean? Lili told us at dinner what she did with you. If you want me to, I'll do the same thing. I'll be overjoyed, in fact, and I hope that you'll like it too.”

She said it so kindly and I had so little imagination myself at that time (what can you do with a girl who doesn't like to fuck?) that I let her do whatever she wanted.

She climbed down into exactly the same position as the first time. If I ever write a novel I'm going to make sure that I vary the positions that the people take in it, but I'm writing this exactly as it happened and there is nothing to be done.

In the same sort of situation (and that is certainly rare enough) women ordinarily can't help becoming passionate no matter what their natural nature. And Charlotte was no exception. She was more ardent and above all more loquacious even than before. She talked unceasingly with a soft, obscene tenderness that it would be impossible for me to try to copy here.

Since she was lying with her back against me, I embraced her and said, “Your buttocks are as pretty as your breasts.”

And that simple little sentence was worth a fleet of words.

“My buttocks? They should be rosy! They certainly want you to stick your cock between them! But don't move! Don't move! We have plenty of time. Let me caress your cock with them since you like them so much… You know, you're very kind to have said that. I think I like my buttocks better than any other part of my poor body.”

“But you're beautiful, Charlotte!”

“No. No. I'm just like the others, only… when I see other good-looking girls, and when I finger myself in front of the mirror, I think… I like to think… that I have beautiful buttocks. But when you asked me first of all for my pussy I thought that maybe you didn't like my ass.”

“But why shouldn't I like it?”

“Because I've got as much hair there as in front. I even have a fine black down that covers half of each buttock,” she said laughing. “But you like it and so everything is all right. And you're getting a hard-on! You're getting a wonderful hard-on, you angel…”

“If you can really say that an angel can get…”

“I have a crazy desire to beat myself off when I feel your cock under my ass like that. But a desire! A real desire! I've already come four or five times today, but that isn't anything. I don't even count any more. The more I beat myself off the better I feel, and when I'm hot, like now, when my snatch is throbbing and my ass is twitching…”

“Yes, I know you now,” I interrupted. “Because if I say to you, 'Charlotte, don't get your snatch or your asshole all excited now. I want to go to sleep,' you will say, 'If you wish.'“

“Oh, if you wish,” she said unhappily.

“And if I say the opposite: something like 'Charlotte, it's only twenty minutes after twelve I've come four times already today, once I went eight and I want to beat my record with you have every vice, every passion, and all the strange manias; but we only need to go five more times and you can leave?'“

“Oh! That! Well, as much as you want!” she said with her calm smile. “Do you want to try? I'm not sleepy.”

All the time I was talking — I've already told you how easy it is to slip into Charlotte's ass — we were united in the position she liked best, and she used all her ability to what, in the last resort, I found very agreeable.

A long deep kiss cut off our conversation, but then, looking at me from over her shoulder with a long smile that, despite the exact similarity of our ages, I can only call maternal, she said in a voice full of sadness, patience, and tenderness with which a professional is permitted to treat an apprentice:

“You have every vice, my dear? You're the victim of strange manias? Tell me all about it! You know that you can ask me anything you wish. Why don't you say something? Are you ashamed? Do I have to be the one who…”

I hadn't said anything because my only vice was fucking and I saw no hope of making her understand.

Charlotte, who was the best girl in the world, misunderstood my silence. With her eyes fastened on mine and an expression on her face that seemed to pardon in advance my most infamous and tyrannical vices, she said easily and without lowering her voice, “Shit in my mouth.”

Even today, I can't understand how I managed to keep myself from leaping up from the bed at those words. I suppose the beginning of our conversation had pretty well prepared me for anything, even that. And besides, the poor girl was so pretty, so kind… She had said that to me simply by chance, one of the most natural things in the world… And despite my stupefaction she insisted.

“Oh, don't think that just because I said that that I'm begging you to. Don't think that I like to do it like Lili does…”

“Lili likes that?”

“Certainly! Lili! What doesn't she like! For me, I only like one thing, that's…”

“Well then?”

“But I'm used to everything. Don't get angry. Later on in the night shit in my mouth. You'll get another hard-on.”

“Charlotte!”

“And besides, I don't know what's come over me. Your cock sets me on fire. I want your shit as well as your come.”

She said these last words in such a strange way that it no longer seemed like Charlotte talking.

So soft before she had suddenly become hard and crude. With her head beneath a pillow, she suddenly came without warning me, spreading her legs so wide that they reached each side of the bed.

The silence hardly lasted a minute; she remembered more quickly than I what we had been talking about. She removed her now red face from beneath the pillow and said, “In the meantime, it's your come that I want in my mouth.”

Already bewildered by what I had just heard, it didn't occur to me to be surprised that Charlotte would suck the cock that just came out of her ass without first washing it. I was becoming used to everything and if I did jump that time it was for another reason.

“Oh, no! You're not going to suck me like that!”