Pierre Louys - The She-Devils

“So I've got some vices, so what? I even think I've got them all and that maybe I've invented a couple. It comes in handy when you're a whore.”

Since I made no protest at this last word, she assumed a ferocious expression. The whole thing was really quite remarkable since we were still united by our flesh, and not only could I not escape, as Teresa had defied me to do, I could not even fail her.

A sudden smile crossed her face and transformed the whole situation. That woman had her own way, there was no doubt about it. It pleased her to continue with a softer expression and a more tender voice:

“Is it a vice to be happy every time you corn-hole me?”

“Yes.”

“So much the better. I admitted to you that I've seen a lot of women cornholed. It always seemed rather ordinary. Tell me that it's a horrible vice and it will excite me.”

“Slut!”

“Is it a vice for me to finger myself when I'm thirty-six years old? Then write an article stigmatizing young girls for resorting to onanism and above all their mothers… a mother like me who lifts up her skirt between the dessert and the' liqueur and says to her three daughters, 'Shut your traps for a while. I want to beat myself off!'“

“As long as you don't call Charlotte to…”

“Wait. And is a mother vicious that lets her daughters finger themselves in front of her?

When it is she herself who has fingered them the first time to take the stiffness out of their cunts when they were seven? When she has shown them with her own hand how a woman heats herself off like you take the hand of a schoolgirl to show her how to write?”

“If that were all you did!”

“Isn't that enough? Then is it a vice to have prostituted my three daughters, little confessor? Tell me while you're cornholing me. (She was getting more and more excited.) My mother cried when I lost the cherry in my behind, but I beat myself off when I sold Charlotte, and I got more of a kick out of coming than out of receiving the money. Understand? I don't give a damn about money. It's enough of a vice for me to have given my daughters. I stuck all three of them on their first pricks and yet…”

She never finished her sentence, but she continued to speak and to hold me in her grip. I was going crazy. I have never been in such a position, and I kept saying to myself, “Oh! Can't I even tell when I love and when I hate?” For the more relentlessly Teresa tried to vilify herself, the more beautiful she wanted to be, and was, with all her body.

She thrust her face closer to mine and let a smile once more light it up.

“Oh no you don't! You're not getting out of that ass yet! And you're not going to come either. I feel more like coming than that prick of yours docs and I'm holding myself in. You can do the same thing until I've finished talking.”

“You're beautiful,” I said. “There's nothing you can say, and the more you speak the more…”

“The more I speak the hotter I get,” she said. “Look at my whore's knockers and see if the ends aren't stiff. You could stick them in a lesbian's behind!”

“Please!”

“You'll listen! I'm no lesbian like my mother and her sisters. I've gone to bed with hundreds and hundreds of lesbians: blondes, brunettes, redheads, brown-haired ones, even negresses. But I'm no lesbian. I prefer a prick. Even so, I still have a vice. Have I got the right to one vice? (Here her voice began to tremble.) It excites me to have my ass licked by my daughters. I'm very Catholic, almost devout, and a priest once told me that it was the greatest sin I could commit. Ever since then I've done it every day. Even when I'm fingering myself, one of them always comes to suck at my hairs. Even when you're cornholing me it excites me to think about it. Charlotte's stupid, but when she has her tongue there I tell myself that that's my eldest daughter and it makes me come twice as much.”

She began to twist her body and I knew that she wouldn't be able to rest in her quivering immobility much longer.

“The imbeciles that cornhole us one on top of another think that incest… Ha! Ha! Ha! And it's all for my pleasure!”

Then, working her long supple body back and forth with movements of her rear that finally began to appease my interminably deceived desire, she chose this moment that she had so carefully and patiently worked up to, the moment when I could no longer neither repulse nor interrupt her, and then, with me more ardent than I had yet been, though perhaps less bewildered, she began to speak slowly without raising her voice.

“My three daughters are my bordello. I strip them naked in my living room and I take my choice. I take the one that tempts me most at the time and that one, in front of her sisters, sucks the lips of my ass, licks the slit between my buttocks, sticks her tongue into my behind, then comes around to suck my snatch and swallow everything I discharge. And I have trained them so well that I can shit the come of men who have cornholed me into their mouths. I told you a little while ago that I took Charlotte into another room? Well, it wasn't true. I awoke the others too! They saw everything! And Lili was jealous! She came to lick my ass afterwards because she thought there might be a drop left!”

I heard no more. I was morally exhausted, and even my physical fatigue surpassed all measure, without a doubt as a result of the long wait I had just undergone. For two minutes I remained motionless on my bed without a thought in my mind.

When I opened my eyes again, Teresa had re-entered, still completely naked, bring with her Lili; a Lili entirely new for me, a Lili in her nightgown with a braid of hair down her back; a Lili asleep on her feet.

She dropped the girl into an armchair like a rag doll and came over to whisper into my ear, carefully separating each word:

“Let me alone now. She's my daughter, and I can raise her how I want. If you insult me in front of her or try to keep her from doing what I ask, I'll never forgive you.”

She could have saved her breath, for I had not the least intention. I was completely dazed. I had no intentions, good or bad, towards either her or Lili.

Teresa made the girl get up from her chair, where she seemed to have fallen once more to sleep and somehow awoke her completely with the words, “Show us how you can wake up when you see a man. Ready? One! Two! Three! Are you still asleep?”

“No, mama.”

“Good; Now what docs a little girl do when she is standing in front of a man and she is in her nightgown?”

And just as she would have recalled a rule of polite behavior that all good children should know, Lili, with a funny little smile, raised her nightgown to her waist and spread her legs a little. Then she threw herself around my neck and, kindly but slightly scolding, said, “You were cornholing Charlotte! She told me all about it.”

“I'm not surprised! She told me quite a bit too.”

“About what.”

“I know how you eat your cookies.”

“My cookies? You mean when I stick them info her pussy before she fingers herself? And what else?”

I turned towards Teresa. “Can I ask her how she was born?”

“Certainly. Tell him Lili.”

She hesitated, however. Then, seeing that I already knew, she began to laugh.

“Charlotte is my father. She knocked up mama with her asshole.”

She even (and since I'd never seen Lili crack a joke of this type, I think that this was maliciousness) quickly added something I had not asked for.

“In our family we always make the kids that way. Mama just made another one tonight with Charlotte, but it didn't take because it wag in her mouth instead.”

Lili never laughed when she joked, and, seeing that I wasn't laughing either, Teresa quickly said, “Are you keeping that nightshirt on so you'll look like an angel, my under-fucked little toad? Or is it something to catch the drops of come in?”