Felix Salten - The Memoirs of Josephine Mutzenbacher

One day, he came home early, knowing that I would be alone. He tried to fondle me and, when I objected, he threw me down and got on top of me. But I held my knees so tight together, that he could do nothing. He got up, looked at me, but never bothered me again.

During the following year, I had only Alois and Mr. Horak, and I constantly looked for them in the cellar. Shani came at one time and informed me that both his mother and Rosa were having monthlies, so that he had only Wetti to poke that day, and as that night he would not have to do it at all, we took advantage of the opportunity and went at it standing up. We hurried for fear of being caught, of which I remember little except that he, feeling my nipples, exclaimed: “Here, you are getting nice, little rosebuds,” at which they began to stand out quite hard. I was very proud of them.

A few days later, I made Mr. Horak feel them under my blouse. He was so pleased that they were growing so much, and when he felt them, his weapon immediately got stiff, although he had twice poked me already; still playing with them as they stood firmer all the time, he was able to do it a third time. Franz, I remember, also poked me several times during this year, but he could not shut Mrs. Rhinelander out of his mind, always on the watch for her. One morning I spied her going to the attic. I called Franz and told him: “Now is your chance.” He came along but did not dare follow her to the attic alone. I encouraged him, telling him that Mr. Horak was poking her. I assured him that she would surely be willing to let him do it. I pictured her nice, white breasts, but he still was afraid. Bold as I was, I offered to go with him. We found Mrs. Rhinelander just taking her wash down from the line. “How do you do, Mrs. Rhinelander?” I greeted her. “Greetings. What are you doing here?” she asked. “We just came to see you.” “Sol What do you want of me?” “Perhaps we might help you,” I replied.

“Well, well, I thank you.” As she was folding up a sheet, I went up to her and at once began playing with her big breasts, bobbing them up and down. Franz stood by, looking on, not winking an eye. Mrs. Rhinelander hugged me to her, saying: “What are you doing?”

“They are so nice,” I said to flatter her. At this she blushed and looked at Franz and smiled. He also smiled in a foolish manner but did not dare to come closer. I slipped my hand into her blouse and got out her bare breasts. She did not object but looked at Franz and remarked: “What are you doing?” Then I whispered to her: “Franz would like to-,” I felt her nipples getting hard, and she asked: “Would he like to?” “Oh, you know,” I answered. She smiled and allowed me to bare her breasts.

“I can watch you,” I said, as I sprang away from her. I gave Franz a push, shoving him right against her breasts, then I stood guard, the same as I had done when Mr. Horak was poking Mrs. Rhinelander in the cellar, so nobody could surprise them. If I remember rightly, this was my first time as a matchmaker, unless you might call my telling Mr. Eckhard of my mother's disappointment with father, which led to Mr. Eckhard now poking my mother. Otherwise, he would probably have been satisfied with her daughter-me! Franz stood with his face buried in her breasts, she hugged him tightly and asked: “Well, now, what do you want, my little man?” He could not answer as she forced one of her nipples into his mouth, which he began to suck furiously, so that it got larger and longer all the time. She was now getting nervous and began to tremble. She said nothing more. I forgot my duties of watching and was anxious to get into the game. She now laid down on her wash-basket. Raising up her skirts, I saw her large, hairy love nest, into which I feared that Franz might disappear-head first! She drew him to her and with her hand put his little bird way in! It seemed as though she had swallowed it whole. Franz begged her to be a little easy and then began to work like a clock. She lay there, and laughed, saving: “How that tickles!” She lay quiet. “How well he does it!” Looking at me:

“Does he do it often?” “Yes,” I replied. “And does he always do it fast?” “Yes,” I said. “Franz always pokes fast.”

Then I knelt down beside her; I began to tickle her in the ear with my tongue, as Mr. Eckhard had done to me. She gurgled with pleasure. “Don't do it so fast, my boy! I want to help too! There-see-that is better!” She now regulated his strokes with her buttocks. “Oh, I'm coming-! Oh, I can't stand it-when Pepi tickles my ear-oh, I am coming again-oh, children! What wonderful children-what a sweet little tool-” suddenly she said to Franz:

“Why don't you take one of the nipples in your mouth, my boy?”

Franz took a nipple and sucked for dear life, but she exclaimed:

“But you must not stop poking-and I was just then coming again-there-that is better-Oh Lord!” Now Franz stopped sucking the nipple. She exclaimed: “Why do you stop sucking on the nipple?” But he had not learned how to do both at the same time, so I came to the rescue, and letting go of her ear, I took her nipples, first one, and then the other. At this, I also became passionate; I was leaning over, so her face was right in front of my grotto; reaching up under my dress, she started playing with it with her fingers; I felt as though I was also being poked. Suddenly we all three reached a climax together, Mrs. Rhinelander saying: “Oh, my dear children-how good that feels-oh Franz-,” she began squirming, “I feel you squirting into me now-and Pepi-you are all wet tool Oh, my, oh!” For some time, we all lay on the basket, exhausted. Suddenly she jumped up, pushed us aside, arranged her clothing, very red in the face and ashamed, exclaiming: “Well, of all the things! Such children!” and hurried down the stairs. Franz and I made ourselves comfortable on the basket of wash, which she had forgotten in her hurry. I took his instrument in my mouth and tried to make it stand again, saying: “Now you must poke me!” “No!” he answered, “Mrs. Rhinelander might come back.” “But what difference would that make?” She knows that we do it.” “But I don't want to.” “Why not?” “Because you have no breasts.”

“What?” Tearing open my blouse, I showed him my little sprouts; he began to play with them. I laid down and he got on top of me; once more, with one shove, he started to poke me and I helped him to put it all the way in. He did it fine and it felt so good! We soon finished and got up, leaving the wash basket as it was, and left the attic. Now Franz always watched for Mrs. Rhinelander, more passionate than ever, and whenever she saw him, she took him in her rooms, as often as possible, and taught him how to do both at the same time, that is, make love and play with her breasts. He made very satisfactory progress. She often called him from our rooms, always giving some excuse, such as asking him to get her some kerosene or beer. Whenever she came in this way, I knew what was about to happen to Franz- in her room.

Matters went on in this way, when suddenly my mother died. I was at that time thirteen years old and developing fast. My breasts had grown and quite a bunch of blonde locks had made their appearance on my little citadel. As I look back, I lay my early development to all the intercourses I had had with the different men and boys up to the time of my mother's death; probably as many as fifty, all told. Of those about whom I am writing, there was first my brother Franz, then Robert, then Mr. Horak, who “tapped” me from behind, as you would a barrel of beer, about fifty times; then Alois, who often poked me as I lay in Clementina's lap; then Mr. Eckhard, then Shani-with him only the one time; once with the soldier, once with the ragged boy, who forced me, and in addition, all the boys whom I had enticed into the cellar and who had taken a “turn” at me; also two men who caught me alone on the highway. They threw me down but were so eager that they just squirted all over my stomach. Several others that I must have forgotten, but I do remember a drunken locksmith who tried to choke me, but luckily he climaxed as soon as my hand touched his member, which satisfied him. Then I remember an old man who coaxed me into the water-closet. He sat down, standing me between his legs and rubbed his half-limber machine between my thighs until he reached a climax. He gave me a pair of blue garters. In all, there were probably two dozen men. When mother died, I did not find out what ailed her. She was sick only two days and the day after her death they immediately took her to the morgue. We children cried a great deal, while we greatly feared our father, who was very strict with us. My brother Lorenz said: “That is my punishment for your sins; Franz” and yours!” I was deeply touched by his words, and believed them. I resolutely resolved after her death, never to do wrong again. The sight of Mr. Eckhard was unbearable. After a week he left us. I breathed easier when he was out of the house. Franz, with whom I was now often alone, tried to feel my breasts once; I slapped his face and after that he left me alone. My mother's death had made a great change in my life. I had fully made up my mind to be good, which would probably have been the case, had not fate willed otherwise.