Anonymous - Pauline

"We know for a fact that has already happened on several occasions. Those girls would put up with anything the countess suggests rather than be returned to prison. As far as their appearing to like being whipped, they do not; it's simply that they know they must do it, and so they concentrate their thoughts on lascivious things and actually bring themselves to the spending point for the sole purpose of entertaining their mistress. Does that explain it, my dear?"

"Partly,” I answered. It was, without doubt, the strangest story I had ever heard. “Tell me this,” I continued. “Why does she have the girls wear such strange outfits? Why is her home decorated with the most obscene pictures all devoted to whipping, and why, above everything else, does she wear such an asinine headdress and go about otherwise naked?"

Nina laughed. “For a young woman you have a happy faculty of asking questions. If the girls were allowed clothing, they might try to escape; naked they wouldn't get far. Her home is decorated with whipping pictures for the simple reason that there is little else on her mind; the strange headdress you refer to is a direct symbol of her insanity."

"You mean,” I ventured, “that the woman is insane?” I began to realize how silly I had been in laying myself open to an attack from her.

"Crazy, yes,” answered Nina, “but crazy on one thing; otherwise she is quite sane."

"Why didn't you tell me of this?” I asked.

"Why try telling you anything? You would have gone anyway."

I saw the truth of this and did not press her further.

"There is one thing, however, that isn't at all plain,” I said. “How can one get pleasure-sexual pleasure-in watching another suffer?"

Both girls looked at me for a moment before Anna said, “Think back for a moment, my dear. Weren't you highly excited at witnessing the show?"

I wondered at that. I wasn't at all sure whether it was the sight of their nakedness or the whipping. “I don't know,” I said in answer to the direct question. “I am somewhat in doubt about it."

"Enough to want to put it to the test?” asked Nina, gazing at me from beneath her lowered lids.

"What do you mean by that?” I asked, mystified as to her meaning.

"I mean,” she said, “do you care enough about it to want to put it to the test? If you do, it can be arranged."

"How?"

"By making up a little party and visiting the prison in question. I know the very person who would be delighted at the chance of going with us-say a party of four?"

Something snapped within my brain! The thought intrigued me!

Why not? I thought. If there is a chance to visit this den and discover if I, too, have an inborn desire (unknown to myself) to witness another's suffering, then why not take advantage of it?

"How can it be arranged?” I asked, trying to remain calm.

"Easily,” answered Anna. “We can arrange it for one week from this Saturday. That Sunday the theater is closed for Saint's Day. We could leave right after Saturday night's performance and have plenty of time to enter into the spirit of the thing; then you could return either late Sunday night or early Monday. In any event, it would give you plenty of opportunity to rest for your next show."

I gave it considerable thought for a few moments, then said, “Are you sure there will be no danger in this wild scheme?"

"None whatever. We have both been there and suffered little or no damage to our delicate persons."

"And this other person-a woman, I presume? Who is she?"

"Her name is Bernice; she is one of the most beautiful and prominent women in Pest, and maintains one of, if not the best-known whorehouses in all of Europe."

"Great God!” I cried, “Is there anyone you don't know? But never mind-go ahead with your plans; I'm crazy to see the place!"

Well, my friend, I suppose by this time you have quite given me up as the worst person in the world, and I don't see how I can blame you if you have.

But if I have pictured myself to you as a wanton, it was but to prepare you for my further adventures; adventures which quite outshine any I have yet related.

With me it has always been a quest to seek something new and startling; something to stir the blood; that would raise the temperature; something to thrill one from head to toe-and I got it in Budapest!

As you undoubtedly know, it isn't such a long run between the two cities, and we made it that night, arriving at the prison in the early hours of dawn. Nina and Anna having made all the arrangements, we were royally received. An excellent breakfast, a few hours rest, and we were ready for the busiest day and night I have ever spent.

The prison itself wasn't much-just one of the many of its type found in older cities throughout Europe. Low, grimy, filth everywhere, it was a sight for Satan himself, and I guess he presides over it with consummate, if not extravagant, infinity.

It was enough to cause one to turn away, but the gaiety of my friends and their expectations of something unusual in the manner of this orgy led me on. And I'm not sorry, in a way, that I remained. True, the things I saw, nay, even took part in, the experience I gained as to the inner workings of the human mind, to say nothing of the delightful creature I found there and who was to become my maid, all compensated me, I believe.

The fourth member of our party, the one chosen by Anna and Nina to make the quartet, was a very beautiful and talented young woman by the name of Bernice, a young lady of Spanish extraction and known, like most famous women at that time, as “Madam"-Madam Bernice.

During the journey I had had a chance to study this woman, and the longer I was in her company the more I liked her. Raven black hair, a dark, olive complexion, beautiful features, well-formed and firm breasts, a small waist, full, rounded hips, thighs as round as the most perfect spheres, tapering calves and ankles, small, well-turned feet with unusually high arches-a mark of distinction in itself. Added to that she was unusually intelligent and liberal to a fault. I found myself delighting in her drollery and wit.

She was daring, too. Like my friend, the Russian countess, she had an almost unholy delight in appearing in public in the scantiest of dress. Stranger still, she was welcomed into the most wealthy and famed homes in both Pest and Budapest; wealthy dames thought it something of an honor to be seen in her company, and many of them-thousands, if you please-frequented her spacious home and indulged in their passions to the limit. I shall tell you much more of this a little later on.

I found that she had, on several occasions, visited the famous prison and was on excellent terms with the Russian warden. Indeed, I found that some of her prettiest girls were brought from this dreadful place, as were several young and handsome men, and of this I shall also have more to say a little later.

Our reception into the warden's office was an event I shall long remember. The warden was the nearest thing to a pig in human form I have ever seen outside a circus. The man weighed close to three hundred pounds-I was to feel his great weight before I left the den-like place. Like his famous sister, he sported the high cheekbones and the slanting, Mongolian eyes so common among the lower classes of Russians, while his nose was flat and broad and appeared as though a great slice had been taken from its base, leaving the great holes of his nostrils looking like miniature caves. Not a very pretty picture, one might say.

Moving one's vision further down the broad, flat face, one came to what was supposed to be a mouth, but which resembled a cave that housed a few long, yellow teeth. The chin, or what there was of it, wasn't much, and this was covered with a two-or three-day growth of light-yellow beard. His great head of corn-yellow hair was unkempt, and his eyes were set close together. All in all, his features did not instill in me much trust.