Anonymous - The Altar of Venus

With the last article of clothing removed the madame pauses again to examine the prostrate form. leaning over it she feels the diminutive but plump little breasts, as though to prove their firmness. Her hands descend, she seizes the child's knees and pulls her legs apart. The next instant her finger is inserted within the sexual cleft. The expression on her face indicates that she is pleased with the result of this profane exploration. Eva's maidenhead is intact and will bring a lucrative return in cash. She gathers up the girl's clothing, and taking it with her leaves the room, locking the door behind her.

Outside the door she stops, slides back a small panel, and stands for an interval peering through this aperture at the girl, still lying motionless and unconscious upon the bed. She closes the panel and proceeds downstairs.

Now we see two persons engaged in telephonic conversation. One of these is the madame. The other is a man of middle age whose face bears the stamp of dissipation and cruelty. The printed text in French tells client, of a new acquisition, of superlative charm, and virginal integrity. The gentleman is being offered Eva's maidenhead. An appointment is made, and the picture disr solves from our view.

A sign is flashed upon the screen announcing a five minute intermission and the lights are turned on. During the course of the picture which I have briefly outlined, and which consumed possibly some thirty minutes in the showing, the Russian girl had remained silent. Now she turned to me with a smile, and inquired as to how I was enjoying the picture. I replied that it was very impressive, more so as it was the first film of this nature I had ever seen. She seemed surprised and began to question me as

to how I had been entertaining myself while in Paris. I mentioned a number of the places I had visited, and found she was familiar with most of them.

"Do you know," she broke in, irrelevantly, "you're quite good looking?"

Somewhat taken aback, I replied with assumed seriousness.

"And not a bit conceited!" she continued, smiling.

Further conversation was interrupted by a bell which announced the continuance of the film, and the lights were again turned off.

It is now night, and we return to the room in which Eva, victim of white slavers, is held prisoner. Eva, naked, is sitting on the edge of the bed, weeping. In the position in which she is sitting, directly before us, we are able to appreciate her physical beauty in all its extension. Between her slightly separated thighs, below a little cluster of golden curly hair, the flower of her sex is partially visible.

The scene is emotional, and not a sound is heard in the saloon except the whirr of the film as it is fed into the projecting machine. Under cover of the darkness, the Russian girl places her hand upon my knee. Her fingers squeeze the flesh lightly and the contact sends an electric thrill vibrating through my body.

Between this, and the effect of Eva's nakedness, my cock begins to harden. I sense its rapid increase in size under the constriction of my clothing. The hand upon my knee begins to travel upward, and comes to rest exactly over the spot where my clothing is most distended. And through the texture of the garment, the clasp of warm, soft fingers becomes apparent. I drop my hand down over hers, and press it expressively.

The picture changes, and we are taken to^ another room in which the madame and the hard faced man we previously saw at the telephone are in conference. They sit on either side of a small table, between them a bottle of wine and glasses. At intervals script in French conveys to us the import of the conversation, which revolves about the price of Eva's maidenhead.

"Are you sure?"

"I couldn't get this in!" replies the woman, holding up the index finger of her right hand.

"Well, how much?"

"To you, five hundred francs."

"Five hundred francs?" exclaims the man, angrily, springing to his feet, "Five hundred francs? Too much!"

"Five hundred francs." replies the woman, stolidly, "Five hundred to you. A thousand to anyone else. I can get it. She's the prettiest little piece you ever laid eyes on. Breasts like

this . . . " and she cupped her hands expressively.

'•1 won't pay it!"

"Come and look!" answered the procuress, cunningly, rising to her feet.

The man glared at her a moment in silence, then he too arose, and followed her.

They proceed to the room in which Eva is confined. The small panel is slid back, and the man peers through. For a long interval he stands motionless, his gaze riveted on the spectacle of Eva's nudity.

"I'll pay it!" he whispers, closing the panel.

They return to the room in which we previously saw them, and the man removes a wallet from his pocket, counts out the stipulated amount, hands it to the madame, and in return receives the key to Eva's prison.

They drink a glass of liquor to the successful termination of the transaction, and the madame, with a suggestive leer, wishes him a pleasant night.

Across the screen appears another notice, announcing a brief suspension of the picture in order to present a symbolical dancing act or terpsichorean fantasy entitled "Deux Femmes Moderness."

Short, but spectacular, it brought enthusiastic applause from the audience. Across the stage, now bathed in a flood of changing lights of red, green, violet and gold, whirled two beautiful young girls, except for hose and slippers, strip stark naked. More than naked, for the black silk hose accentuated a hundred fold the white nudity of their torsos. In an embrace so close they seem but one body, they writhe, twist, undulate and whirl about the small stage.

The flashing lights and the shifting melody of color lend an eriei fantastic effect to the nude bodies difficult to describe, while their close knee to knee, thigh to thigh, breast to breast contact, on every fiber of the sensual emotions. Their steps increase rapidity; one places her knee between the legs of her companion, their movements become so swift the eye can scarcely follow them. Dizzily whirling, pirouetting, literally flying, under the changing colors of the spotlight they seem like the weird figures of an erotic dream.

So close did they maintain their embrace during this striking and really beautiful dance, that not for a single instant had their sexual parts been visible, but their undulations, the interweaving of thighs and legs was highly suggestive and the emotional effect upon the spectators was apparent.

Thee exhibition reaches its climax with one of the dancers swaying backward, supported by the arms of her companion who lowers her to the floor and then throws herself upon the recumbent figure with wild, and frantic lust. The bodies blend together as mouth to mouth, breast to breast, and clitoris the Sapphic union is consumated.

The applause is generous and most of us would have appreciated an encore, but the dancers, after acknowledging the applause, stand for a moment facing us, favoring us for the first time, with an unobstructed view of their lithe bodies, then run behind the curtain.

The stage is again in darkness. The white curtain is lowered, and before us appears the lustful, cruel face of the man who has paid five hundred francs for Eva hymen. He stands, rapt in ecstatic lubricity before the door of the room in which she is confined, peering through the secret panel at the girl who, unconscious of his scrutiny, is lying naked on the bed, her face covered with one white forearm.

He closes the panel, and inserts the key in the lock of the door. Eva hears this sound, as the door opens, she springs from the bed.

"Oh! Who are you?" she gasps, too terrified for the moment to remember her nudity.

The man, as though unwilling to lose a single detail of the delicious spectacle, closes the door behind him without removing his gaze from her body. He stands there gloatingly feasting his eyes on the delectible vision of her young loveliness until Eva, awakening suddenly to the significance of