Teleny or the Reverse of the Medal (10 page)

How pretty she looked as I held her down. Her curly and wavy hair dishevelled by the fight was strewn in locks all over the pillows. Her dark lively eyes, with their short but thick lashes were twinkling with an almost phosphorescent fire, her face all aglow, was bedabbled with my blood, her parted, panting lips would have made the soft phallus of some old worn-out
monsignore
leap with renewed life.

I had pinioned her down and for a moment stood over her, admiring her. My glances seemed to irritate her, and she struggled once more to be free.

The hooks and eyes of her dress had given way, so that there was just a glimpse of fair flesh, gilt by many a glowing harvest sun, and of two swelling breasts, to be seen; and you know how much more exciting this glimpse is than the wanton display of all the flesh exhibited at balls, theatres, and brothels.

I tore away all obstacles. I thrust one hand into her bosom, and I tried to slip the other one under her dress; but her skirts were so tightly twisted between her legs, and these were so firmly entwined together, that there was no getting them apart.

After many stifled cries, that seemed more like the twittering of some wounded bird, after much tugging and tearing on my side, scratching and biting on hers, my hand finally reached her naked knees; then it slipped up to the thighs. She was not stout, but as firm and as muscular as an acrobat. My hand reached the parting of the two legs; finally, I felt the slight down that covers Venus' mount.

It was useless to try and thrust my forefinger between the lips. I rubbed her a little. She screamed for mercy. The lips parted slightly. I tried to get my finger in.

'You are hurting me; you are scratching me,' she cried.

Finally her legs relaxed, her dress was up, and she burst into tears—tears of fear, shame, and vexation!

My finger then stopped; and as I withdrew it I felt that it was also wet with tears—tears which were by no means briny ones.

'Come, don't be frightened!' said I, taking her head between my hands, and kissing her repeatedly. 'I was only joking. I do not mean to harm you. There, you can get up! You can go, if you like. I surely will not detain you against your free will.'

And thereupon I thrust my hand within her bosom, and began to pinch the tiny nipple, in size no bigger than a luscious wild strawberry, of which she seemed to have all the fragrance. She shook with excitement and delight as I did so.

'No,' she said, without attempting to get up, 'I am in your power. You can do with me what you like. I can't help myself any longer. Only remember, if you ruin me, I shall kill myself.'

There was such an earnestness in her eyes as she said this that I shivered, and let her go. Could I ever forgive myself, if I were the cause of her committing self murder?

And still the poor girl looked at me with such loving, longing eyes, that it was plain she was unable to bear the scathing fire that consumed her. Was it not my duty, then, to make her feel that soothing ecstasy of bliss she evidently longed to taste?

'I swear to you,' said I, 'that I shall do you no harm; so do not be afraid, only keep quiet.'

I pulled up her thick linen chemise, and I perceived the tiniest slit that could be seen, with two lips of a coralline hue, shaded by a soft, silky, black down. They had the color, the gloss, the freshness of those pink shells so plentiful on Eastern strands.

Leda's charms, which made Jupiter turn into a swan, or Danae's, when she opened her thighs to receive far into her womb the burning golden shower, could not have been more tempting than the lips of this young girl.

They parted of their own inward life, displaying, as they did so, a tiny berry, fresh with healthy life—a drop of dew incarnadined within the crimson petals of a budding rose.

My tongue pressed it closely for a second, and the girl was madly convulsed with that burning pleasure she had never dreamt of before. A moment afterwards we were again in each other's arms.

'Oh, Camille,' she said, 'you do not know how I love you!'

She waited for an answer. I closed her mouth with a kiss.

'But tell me. Do you love me? Can you love me only a little?'

'Yes,' said I, faintly; for even in such a moment I could not bring myself to tell a lie.

She looked at me for a second.

'No, you don't.'

'Why not?'

'I don't know. I feel that you do not care a straw for me. Tell me, is it not so?'

'Well, if you think so, how can I convince you to the contrary?'

'I don't ask you to marry me. I would not be any man's kept mistress, but if you really love me—'

She did not finish her phrase.

'Well!'

'Can you not understand?' she said, hiding her face behind my ear, and nestling closer to me.

'No.'

'Well, if you love me, I am yours.'

What was I to do? I felt loath to have a girl who offered herself so unconditionally, and yet would it not have been more than foolish to let her go without satisfying her craving and my own desire?

—And then you know as for committing suicide it's all nonsense.

—Not quite so much as you think.

—Well, well, what did you do?

—I? Well, I went halfway.

Kissing her, I laid her on her side, I opened the tiny lips, I pressed the tip of my phallus between them. They parted, and little by little, half of the glans, then the whole head, went in.

I pushed gently, but it seemed caught on each side, and especially in front it found an almost insurmountable obstacle. Just as when driving a nail in a wall, the point meets a stone, and hammering away, the tip gets blunt, then turns on itself, so as I pressed harder, the point of my tool was crushed and strangled. I wriggled to find a way out of this blind alley.

She groaned, but more with pain than with pleasure. I groped my way in the dark and gave another thrust, but my battering ram only crushed its head the more against the stronghold. I was in doubt whether I had not better put her on her back and force my entrance in real battle array, but as I pulled back I felt that I was almost overcome—no, not almost— but quite so, for I squirted her all over with my creamy, life-giving fluid. She, poor thing, felt nothing, or very little, while I, unnerved as I had been till then, and exhausted by my nightly rambles, fell almost senseless by her side. She looked at me for a moment, then sprang up like a cat, caught up the key that had fallen out of my pocket, and with a bound— was out of the door.

Being too jaded to follow her, I was, a few moments afterwards, fast asleep; the first sound rest I had had for a long time.

For a few days I was somewhat quieted, I even gave up attending the concerts and haunts where I could see Rene; I almost began to think that in time I might get indifferent, and forget him.

I was too eager, I endeavored so hard to blot him at once from my mind, that my very anxiety prevented me from succeeding in doing so; I was so frightened not to be able to forget him, that that fear itself always brought his image to my mind.

—And your girl?

—If I am not mistaken she felt for me what I felt for Teleny. She deemed it her bounden duty to avoid me, she even tried to despise me, to hate me, but she could not succeed in doing so.

—But why to hate you?

—She seemed to understand that if she was still a virgin, it was simply because I cared so little for her; I had felt some pleasure with her, and that was more than enough for me.

Had I loved and deflowered her, she would only have loved me more tenderly for the wound I had inflicted upon her.

When I asked her if she was not grateful to me for having respected her maidenhood, she simply answered, 'No!' and it was a very decided 'no' indeed. 'Besides,' she added, 'you did nothing, simply because you could do nothing.'

'I could not?'

'No.'

A scuffle ensued again. She was once more locked within my arms and we were wrestling like two prize fighters, with as much eagerness though surely with less skill. She was a muscular little vixen, by no means weak; moreover she had begun to understand the zest which fighting gives to the victory.

It was a real pleasure to feel her body palpitating against mine; and though she was longing to yield, it was only after much ado that I could get my mouth on hers.

With no little difficulty I put her on my bed, and managed to get my head under her skirts.

Women are silly creatures, full of absurd prejudices; and this unsophisticated country wench considered the compliment I was about to pay to her sexual organ as something like buggery.

She called me a dirty beast, a pig, and other such pleasing epithets. She began by writhing and wriggling, and trying to slip away from me, but she thus only added to the pleasure I was giving her.

Finally, she wedged my head between her thighs and pressed the nape of my neck with both her hands, so that even if I had wanted to take my tongue away from her burning lips, I could only have done so with an effort.

I, however, remained there, darting, licking, scraping the little clitoris, till it cried for mercy, and its tears convinced her that this was a pleasure not to be disdained, for this I have found is the only argument with which to convince a woman.

When all the inner parts were thoroughly lubricated by my tongue, and moistened by the soothing overflowings of unbearable pleasure; when she had tasted that ecstatic joy which one virgin can give to another without inflicting any pain or breaking the seal of her innocence, then the sight of her rapture made my own cock crow lustily. I therefore let it out of its dim dungeon, to drive it into the dark den.

My acorn went in merrily, and then it was stopped in its career. Another mighty thrust gave me more pain than pleasure, for the resistance was so great that my ramrod seemed sprained in the action; the narrow and firm walls of the vagina dilated, and my piston was jammed in as though in a tight glove, and yet the hymeneal tissue was not reached.

I asked myself why foolish nature has thus barred the way of pleasure? Is it to make the vainglorious bridegroom believe that he is the pioneer of the unexplored regions, but does he not know that midwives are always artfully repairing the locks that adulterine keys have opened? Is it to make a religious ceremony out of it, and to give the plucking of this bud to some father confessor, this having long been among the many prerequisites of the priestcraft?

The poor girl felt as if a knife were being plunged within her, still she did not scream, nor moan, although her eyes filled with tears.

Another thrust, one more effort, and the veil of the temple would be rent in twain.

I stopped in time, however.

'Can I, or can I not have you?'

'You have ruined me already,' she replied quietly.

'I have not; you are still a virgin, simply because I am not a rascal. Only tell me, can I have you or not?'

'If you love me, you can have me, but if you only do so for a moment's pleasure... still, do what you like, but I swear that I'll kill myself afterwards, if you don't care for me.'

'These are things that are said and not done.'

'You'll see.'

I pulled my phallus out of the den, but before allowing her to rise, I tickled her gently with the tip, making her feel ample satisfaction for the pain I had inflicted on her.

'Could I or could I not have had you?' said I.

'Imbecile,' she hissed like a snake, as she slipped out of my arms and was beyond my reach.

'Wait till next time, and you will then see who is the imbecile,' said I, but she was already out of hearing.

—I must own you were somewhat of a greenhorn; I suppose, however, that you had your revenge, next time.

—My revenge, if it can be called by that name, was a fearful one.

Our coachman, a young, stalwart, broad-shouldered and brawny fellow, whose fondness had hitherto expended itself on his horses, had fallen in love with this girl, who looked as sapless as a holly twig.

He had tried to woo her in honorable fashion in every possible way. His former continence and his newly-born passion had softened all that was boorish in him, he had plied her with flowers, ribbons and trinkets, but she had scornfully refused all his presents.

He had offered to marry her at once; he had gone so far as to make her a free gift of a cottage and a bit of land he possessed in his country.

She exasperated him by treating him almost with scorn, resenting his love as an insult. An irresistible longing was in his eyes, in hers a vacant stare.

Goaded to madness by her indifference, he had tried by strength what he could not obtain by love, and had had to understand that the fairer sex is not always the weaker one.

After his attempt and failure she tantalized him all the more. Whenever she met him she would put her thumbnail up to her top teeth and emit a slight sound.

The cook, who had a latent fondness for this strong and sinewy young fellow, and who must have had an inkling that something had taken place between this girl and myself, evidently informed him of the fact, arousing thereby in him an ungovernable fit of jealousy.