That morning Duclos expressed her opinion， saying she held it prudent either to offer the little girls new patients to replace the fuckers then being employed in the masturbation exercises， or to terminate their lessons， for she believed their education sufficiently advanced. Duclos very astutely pointed out that by continued use of the young men known by their title of fucker， there might result that species of intrigue Messieurs wished especially to prevent； moreover， she added， for such exercises these young men were worth nothing at all； since they were prone to discharge immediately after they were touched， their skittishness or incontinence ought certainly be better exploited， Messieurs‘ asses had only to lose if the program remained unchanged. It was therefore decided that the lessons would cease； they had generally succeeded， there were already amongst the little girls a few who frigged masterfully： Augustine， Sophie， and Colombe could easily have been matched， what for skill and nimbleness of wrist， against the capital’s most famous friggers. Of them all， Zelmire was least adept： not that she lacked agility or that considerable science was not conspicious in all her motions， no， but it was her tender and melancholic character which stood in her way， she seemed unable to forget her sorrows， she was sad and pensive at all times. At that morning‘s breakfast inspection tour， her duenna affirmed she had the previous evening caught the child in a prayerful attitude， flagrantly on her knees before retiring； Zelmire was summoned， questioned， she was asked the subject of her prayers； she at first refused to answer， then， threats having been employed， she fell to weeping and admitted she had besought God to deliver her from the perils wherewith she was beset， and had above all prayed that help would come before her virginity were lost. The Duc thereupon declared she deserved to die， and made her read the articles which dealt specifically with this subject.
“Very well，” she sighed， “kill me， at least the God I invoke shall have pity upon me， kill me before you dishonor me， and that soul I have devoted to Him will at least fly in purity to His breast. I shall be delivered of the torment of seeing and hearing so many horrors every day.” A reply wherein reigned such a quantity of virtue， of candid innocence， and of gracious amenity caused our libertines prodigiuosly to stiffen. There were voices that called out for her instantaneous depucelation， but the Duc， reminding his cohorts of the inviolable contract they had subscribed to， was content to propose - and his suggestion was unanimously approved - that she be condemned to punished very violently the following Saturday and that， in the meantime， she kneel and for fifteen minutes take into her mouth and suck each friend’s prick， and that she be given by way of warning the assurance that， were she to repeat her error， it would decidedly cost her her life， for she would be judged and punished to the fullest extent of the law. The poor little thing crawled up to accomplish the first part of her penance， but the Duc， whom the ceremony had aroused， and who after having pronounced sentence had prodigiously fondled her ass， like the villain he was， shot all his boiling seed into that pretty little mouth， in so doing threatening to strangle her if she spat out a drop， and the poor little wretch swallowed it all， not without furious repugnances. The three others were similarly sucked one after the other， but yielded nothing， and after the usual visit to the boys‘ quarters and the excursion to the chapel， which that morning produced little because almost everyone had been refused permission to join the party， the meal was served， and then Messieurs entered the salon for coffee. It was served by Fanny， Sophie， Hyacinthe， and Zélamir； Curval fancied he might thigh-fuck Hyacinthe， and obliged Sophie to post herself in such a way as to be able to suck that length of his prick which protruded beyond Hyacinthe’s tightly squeezed legs. The scene was pleasant and inspiriting， he frigged the little chap he held hugged to his belly， and Hyacinthe discharged upon Sophie‘s face； the Duc， who owing to the dimensions of his prick was the only other one who could imitate this performance， likewise arranged himself with Zélamir and Fanny， but the lad had not yet reached the discharging age， and thus the nobleman had to do without the very agreeable episode Curval considered so enjoyable. After they had finished， Durcet and the Bishop took charge of the four children and had themselves sucked， but no one discharged， and after a brief nap， the company moved into the auditorium where， everyone having assumed his place， Duclos went on with her disclosures. Before any other audience， said that amiable girl， I might shrink at broaching the subject of the narratives wherewith this entire week we shall be occupied， but however crapulous that subject， I am too well acquainted with your tastes， Messieurs， to be in any wise apprehensive. No， I believe you’ll not be displeased； quite the contrary， I am convinced you will find my anecdotes agreeable. I ought however to advise you that you are about to hear of abominable， filthy goings on； but whose ears could be better made to appreciate them？ your hearts love and desire them， hence I enter into the matter without further delay or ambages. At Madame Fournier‘s we had a trusty old client who was known as Chevalier， I don’t know why， or whence the title came； his custom was to pay us a visit every evening， and the little rite that we regularly performed with him was equally simple and bizarre： he would unbutton his breeches， and we were required to form a queue and one by one drop a turd in them. Once we had all done our duty， he would button up again and go off in great haste， taking that freight with him. While he was being supplied he would frig himself for an instant or two， but he was never seen to discharge， and no one knew where he went or what he did with his breechload of shit. “Oh， by Jesus！” muttered Curval， who never heard anything he had not a desire to do on the spot， “I‘ll have someone shit in my breeches， and I’ll keep the treasure the whole evening.” And ordering Louison to come render him that service， the old libertine provided the assembly with a full-blown dramatization of the whimsy whereof account had just been delivered. “Well， go on，” he said phlegmatically， nodding to Duclos and settling down on his couch again， “there‘s nothing to it， and I expect it will only be the lovely Aline， my charming companion for the afternoon， who’ll find something inconvenient about it. As for myself， a pound of shit in the vicinity suits me perfectly.” And Duclos resumed her story. Forewarned， said she， of all that was destined to take place at the home of the libertine to whom I was being sent， I dressed myself as a boy， and as I was only twenty， with pretty hair and a pretty face， that costume very well became me. Before leaving， I took care to do in my breeches what Monsieur le Président has just had done for him in his. My man was awaiting me in bed， I approach him， he kisses me very lewdly two or three times， he tells me I‘m the prettiest little boy he’s ever set eyes upon， and while praising me he undertakes to unbutton my breeches. I put up a faint resistance with the single purpose of inflaming his desires all the more， he entreats me， urges me， he has his way， but how am I to describe to you the ecstasy that possesses him whe perceives the package I have brought along， and the colorful mess it has made of my two buttocks. “Why， what‘s this？” cries he. “You’ve shit in your breeches， have you？ But， my little rascal， ‘tis very nasty， you know. How could you have done such a thing？” And quick as a shot， holding me with my back turned to him and my breeches pulled down， he sets to frigging and rattling himself， presses against me， and spurts his fuck upon my beshitted behind， the while driving his tongue into my mouth. “Do you mean to say，” exclaimed the Duc， “he refrained from touching anything？ Didn’t he handle it？” “No， your Lordship，” Duclos made him answer， “I recount all that transpired， I conceal no detail； but have a little patience， Sire， and we will gradually reach more entertaining circumstances.” “Come，” said one of my companions， “let‘s go watch a truly humorous fellow. He doesn’t need a girl， he amuses himself all alone.” We repaired to the hole， having been informed that in the adjoining room， the one selected for his activities， there was a pierced chair and beneath it a chamber pot we had been busy filling for four days and in which there must have been at least a dozen large turds. Our man arrives. He was an elderly tax-farmer of about seventy years. He shuts the door， goes straight to the pot he knows to be brimming with the goodies he has ordered for his sport. He takes up the vessel and， seating himself in an armchair， passes a full hour gazing lovingly at all the treasure whereof he has been made the proprietor； he sniffs， inhales， he touches， he handles， seems to lift one turd out after another in order to contemplate them the better. Finally become ecstatic， from his fly he pulls a nasty old black rag which he shakes and beats with all his might； one hand frigs， the other burrows into the pot and scoops out handfuls of divine unction. He anoints his tool， but it remains as limp as before. There are moments， after all， when Nature is so stubborn that even the excesses we most delight in fail to awake a response. He did all in his power， and unavailingly， for nothing resulted or rose gloriously up， but by dint of abuse meted out by the same hand that had just been steeped in the ordure， the ejaculation occurred， he trembled， thrilled， fell backward， smelled， breathed deeply， rubbed his prick， and discharged upon the heap of shit which had just so inspired him. Another gentleman dined with me one evening. We were alone together， and twelve large plates filled with the same meats were brought in and combined with the remnants of an earlier course. He sniffed these new dishes， sampled their aromas， and after he had finished eating， bade me frig him upon the one that had struck him as the most handsome. A young crown attorney used to pay according to the number of enemas one was willing to receive at his hands； when I crossed swords with him， I agreed to accept seven， he administered them all himself； thus， seven times over had I to mount a little stepladder， while he， stationed underneath me， frigged himself until I spewed out over his prick the entire charge with which he had lubricated my bowels. As may be readily imagined， the entire evening was devoted to unclean activities of roughly the same species that had been treated in story， and that Messieurs turned to this kind of sport will be all the more easily understood in the light of their general enthusiasm for this passion； it was of course Curval who carried matters the furthest， but his three colleagues were scarcely less infatuated with the novelties laid out before them. The little girls‘ eight steaming turds were arranged amidst the supper’s dishes， and at the orgies the competition was doubtless even keener for those of the little boys； and thus ended the ninth day whose term they saw arrive with the greatest pleasure， for they had high expectations for the morrow， which was destined to provide them with more amply detailed anecdotes treating a subject they adored.
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