Juliette

by Marquis de Sade

  All tastes partake of Nature;

  The best is that which one has.”

  We shared a magnificent repast with Eusebius and four of the friars whose performances had been most noteworthy; we rested for two hours, and the orgies recommenced.

  Our two tribades were stationed on either side of Clairwil, one displayed her cunt, the other her ass; my task was to erect the sixty-four pricks and to lodge them one after the other, first in my companion’s vagina, then in her anus, she awaiting them lying on her back, her legs raised, her ankles being affixed to the posts at the foot of the bed; her swains did no more than excite themselves in her cunt, all discharging occurred in her ass. I took Clairwil’s place, she now rendered me the same service. By dint of such arrangements, those libertines not only obtained the pleasure of fucking us bilaterally, but in addition to that obtained, while fucking, the pleasure of being aided, assisted, guided by a pretty hand, and of kissing a mouth, a cunt, or an asshole at will; fuck flowed in tides.

  At the second sitting while each of our tribades was rubbing a prick on our faces we were frigging another in each hand, and two ecclesiastics were tonguing us: we were in a crouching position, squarely above the nose of the man who was licking our asshole; between our legs, kneeling there, was he who was sucking our cunt; the seventh and eighth stood by, prick in hand, awaiting instructions, and they would encunt or embugger us when, properly aroused by the sucker or the licker, we gave the signal for introduction. An hour or so of this and our total number of fuckings had risen by eight more.

  Overtaxed, our spirits were beginning to flag when into Clairwil’s head popped the thought that revived us both. She expressed it thus: “With a little skill, it is possible for two men to encunt a woman at the same time; let those approach who are still in condition to try it.” Several came forward, my friend designated two of them. “You,” said she to the better-weaponed, “you’ll lie down and I shall get aboard you and take your prick first. And you,” she said to his fellow, “you’ll fuck me from behind, frigging my asshole while you do. I can perfectly well suck a third man’s prick; and what’s to prevent me from frigging two others?”

  Not every cunt is made for the success of such an enterprise; Clairwil’s, happily, was by no means narrow. Pounded and scraped by two gigantic members, their action coordinated in such a manner that while the one slid aft the other crashed forward till hair met hair,10 thus fucked at a sustained allegro for the space of three hours and better by the twenty-six friars who were agile enough to accomplish the trick, the whore, at the end of it all, was in a frantic condition; her glaring eyes roved, sparks shot from them, foam whitened her lips, she was in a lather; and spent as she looked to be, yet she would have more; like one possessed she darted hither and thither through the press, clutching at pricks, sucking upon them, pulling them, essaying this and that to stiffen them to new efforts. Too young, too delicate, to permit myself even to attempt the obscene irregularity my companion was engaged in, I entertained myself at preparing the pricks required for her feast; but more than this I could not do. In both the zones of pleasure there was such a burning sensation, a scorching so intense, that I was scarce able to sit down.

  We supped. It was late. Clairwil said she would fain lie that night in the convent.

  “Kindly have a mattress placed for me upon the altar in your church,” said she to the Superior, “there’s yet a deal of fucking to be done. Juliette will join me. The weather is warm, we shall be more comfortable there. Or, if she prefers, Juliette may lie in the chapel dedicated to the whore who, they say, begot the hanged God of your infamous Christianity. What say you, Juliette? Go sprawl yourself upon that altar, there’s my suggestion, spread your legs in pious remembrance of the whorishness of Dirty Mary. Instead of soldiers from the Jerusalem garrison by whom the buggeress would get herself stuffed every day, from amongst our Carmelite army you’ll select those in whom you suspect a little lingering vigor.”

  “But I can fuck no more,” I protested.

  “Nonsense. You’ll frig them, they’ll frig you; you’ll suck them, they’ll suck you. You’ll see. One can always scrape up fuck to shed in foul circumstances. You tell me you are spent? Not I. Far from it; I’ve been well tupped today, better than you, and I am still ablaze. The floods of sperm that washed into my ass and cunt put no flames out, but fed them. I am on fire…. The more one fucks, my dearest, the more one wants to fuck; only fuck soothes the inflammation fucking causes; and when a woman has a temperament like the one Nature gave me, only from fucking, only while fucking, can she be happy. Woman has one innate virtue, it is whorishness; to fuck, that and that alone is what we were created for; woe unto her whom a thoughtless and stupid virtuousness ever keeps prisoner of dull prejudices; a victim of her opinions and of the chilly esteem she hopes for, almost always in vain, from men, she’ll have lived dry and joyless and shall die unregretted. Libertinage in women used once to be venerated the world over; it had worshipers everywhere, temples even; I become more and more a zealot in that cause. ’Tis my creed, my whole concern and ambition; so long as there is breath in me, I shall be a whore, I proclaim it, I swear it. If there is anyone who can claim gratitude from me, it belongs to those who encouraged me in the way of vice. To them I owe everything, I owe life itself. That which I received from my parents was besmirched by infamous prejudices, they comprised a very jail; I burst out of it, my passions broke down those walls, cindered those prejudices, and since the daylight my eyes behold only became pure the day I learned the art of fucking, I consider that my existence dates from then…. Pricks, aye, pricks, those are my gods, those are my kin, my boon companions, unto me they are everything, I live in the name of nothing but the penis sublime; and when it is not in my cunt, nor in my ass, it is so firmly anchored in my thoughts that the day they dissect me it will be found in my brain.”

  After this exuberant statement, delivered somewhat more incoherently than I reproduce it here and in a voice bordering upon a shriek, Clairwil laid hold of two Carmelites and dashed away to wrestle with them upon the altar; I repaired to the chapel. Having first sponged myself with rose water, I provoked attacks from the two superb novices I had chosen, and I was in the throes of new transports when Clairwil reappeared, crying that she was in requirement of fresh men.

  “It is all very well—and natural enough—to pick and choose amidst abundance, but provisions are now run out, these buggers are frayed and bone-dry. Can you believe it, Juliette, I have just been flubbed—aye, flubbed, I who never before had to endure that affront. Up, my lass, there are other pricks in this convent; we merely requisitioned the cream of the crop, let’s feel out the rest. If the Superior,” she went on, bidding someone go in search of him, “if the Superior has made no individual contribution to the satisfying of my desires, he shall yet prove himself useful in having them appeased by those of his underlings who, hale in wind and limb and having not yet lifted weapon, ought to have fight enough in them to content us. Ah, Eusebius, there you are,” she said when he arrived, “good Eusebius, take us to the cells inhabited by the friars who were excused from duty but of whom we are in need at present; lead on.”

  We wended our way slowly through the cloister; doors opened at our summons; and whatever the conformation of those we uncovered in those chambers, they were enjoined to tup us. All subscribed to the bargain, all signed it in sperm: some had at us from the front, and others, they were the majority, would take us nowise but from behind; and we, with a single aim in view, that of being fucked, we wasted no time higgling or disputing, but lent ourselves on the spot to this usage or to that, glad simply to obtain fuck in no matter what orifice: such is the attitude every woman should adopt. Is there anything more absurd, indeed, than to fancy that there is only one part of the body for the reception of pricks, and that if perchance one strays off the beaten track crimes at once start to be committed? as if, in shaping us two-holed, Nature had not indicated to man to stopper them both, indiscriminately; and that with a pre
dilection for the one or the other, let him but proceed as he likes, he acts within the laws of a mother far too wise to have conferred upon one of her feeblest creatures the empty little privilege of outraging her.

  Very partisan to this manner of fucking, considering it beyond comparison with the other, I was gratified to have no one, during this second round, ask for anything but my ass, and I made it available to all comers.

  At length we reached the elder recluses.

  “Nothing must be neglected, no exceptions granted,” Clairwil said, “no man is without merit once he can be got to discharge; fuck is all I expect of any of them.”

  Several who were lying abed with novices bent cold glances in our direction. “You’ve nothing to offer us that would recompense infidelity on our part,” they told us; “even were you to avail us of the shrine wherein we perform our customary sacrifices, there would yet be that other altar whose mere presence nearby is sufficient to defeat any attempt at homage:

  Contrive what she will, however she turn,

  A woman can be nought but a woman.

  —Martial, Epig.”

  From others we had friendlier greeting; but to what trouble we had to go only to stiffen their antique instruments! to what were we not obliged to consent! what ministrations, what lewd attentions! how many different roles did we have to play! Now victims, now priestesses, we had, by means of cruel macerations, to resuscitate a well-nigh extinct Nature in some, whereas others could not be brought out of their lethargy until we submitted ourselves to be molested by them. One of these old sinners must flog us, we gave him leave; we lashed others; we had to lend our mouths to five or six; and very scurvily they repaid our industry, spending their strength before we could obtain the least benefit from it; yet others demanded more unusual treatment; we complied in every instance … and they all discharged, down to the sexton, to the gate-keeper, to the pew-sweepers who fucked us unendingly, attaining staggering totals; and after having been a good three hundred times mounted in one way or another by all manner of riders, we took our departure, smitten by every sort of fatigue that can whelm the human frame. Nine days of moderate living, including lots of baths and whey, restored us so wonderfully to rights that you’d never have guessed the Carmelites had served us anything stronger than tea.

  But while no outward marks of that party were left on me, it had fired my imagination; my mental state was something that defies description, I was enwrapped in an unabating delirium of lubricity; to find relief or, if not that, to arouse myself further, I decided to go alone for once to a foregathering of our Sodality: there are moments when, however agreeable the company of a person like in mind to ourselves, we nevertheless prefer solitude, thinking, perhaps, that we will be freer, that our fancy will enjoy a wider scope; for when alone one is dispensed of that kind of shame or bashfulness so hard to be rid of when with others; and there is, after all, no equivalent to solitary crimes.

  It had been some while since I had appeared in those circles: constantly surrounded by pleasures, I often did not know how to choose among them. No sooner did I enter than I was beset by suitors and paid a thousand compliments; and it became quite clear that though I might have come there animated by ferocious intentions, the part I was going to have to enact was not the sacrificer’s, but the victim’s. A man in his early forties encunted me; to his ardors I responded with that minimum of interest courtesy demands; I remained very listless until my glance lit upon an extremely handsome abbot who at the time was alternately embuggering two young ladies while having himself fucked. He was scarce a yard away; I ventured a few smutty comments, I noticed that they excited him, and that he was now devoting a good deal more attention to me than to the material he was using. Hastily disencumbering ourselves of our several entourages, we joined each other.

  “Your style of fucking is far more to my liking than the one you saw me subjected to a moment ago,” said I; “it surpasses my understanding how a man fit to belong to this Sodality durst continue to dally with a cunt.”

  “I too am puzzled by the thing,” Chabert admitted.

  (For it was Chabert, my friends, the very same who today is the fairest ornament in our little rural society, and whom you shall soon see playing a role in my adventures.)

  “That is to say,” my engaging abbot went on, “this prick you see here, and you see it yet in goodly size and fettle, is of the variety that tickles more in ass than in cunt.”

  “I’m sure of it,” I replied.

  “In which case,” said he, taking me by the hand and beckoning his late fucker to follow, “let us remove to a boudoir, and I’ll show you to what a degree our tastes are alike.”

  We established ourselves; Chabert’s fucker was furnished like a mule: the Abbot himself was very respectfully outfitted; my ass drained their four balls dry. I promised Chabert we would meet again, and stole off to the seraglios where, thanks to the stimulants I had just absorbed, I arrived in a fury. After treating myself to three hours of ass-fucking I went from the male slaves’ quarters to the females’, in search of victims. Recollecting those pits dug between the two walls, and in whose depths one had the feeling of being in the remotest place on earth, I selected a pair of little girls, one aged five, the other six, and off we went. I had a marvelous time: there where we were, you might scream, you might rave, you might shout your lungs away, dwellers in the antipodes would sooner have heard you than the inhabitants of our hemisphere; and after such horrors as you may prefer to surmise rather than have me paint for you, I alone climbed up flights of stairs three human beings had descended not long before.

  It was soon afterward that I dined at the home of Noirceuil. His other guest, a striking figure of a man, was identified to me as Comte de Belmor.

  “Here is our new president,” said Noirceuil. “The Comte assumes office today, and for his inaugural address he has promised us a discourse on love. Unless I am mistaken it will contain much to forearm the feminine heart against a sentiment which women only too often have the extravagance to conceive for men. And you, my friend,” he continued, turning to Belmor, “allow me to introduce the famous Juliette to you. Have you met at the Sodality?”

  “No,” said the Comte, “I do not believe I recall having seen Madame—”

  “Never mind,” said Noirceuil, “you’ll have become acquainted with her before you leave…. Here is the fairest ass … and the blackest soul—a personage of our own stripe, Comte. She shall be there to listen to you this afternoon; would you care to do anything before we dine? I am expecting Clairwil but, you know, it will be four o’clock ere she has completed her toilette. Since it is only three now, let me exhort you to step briefly into my boudoir, my valet will be at your orders.”

  Belmor consented; the valet arrived, and we all three encloseted ourselves. Belmor’s passion was simple: he kissed, he lengthily, pensively brooded over a woman’s buttocks while receiving a sodomization from the man; then, when this man had discharged, he re-stiffened the man’s prick by rubbing it upon the woman’s ass, got from him a second ejaculation which with great care he guided so that it landed exactly in the hole, and devoured what the man had just loosed, the woman farting meanwhile. He was then flogged. The Comte now rehearsed each scene in the drama, but feeling that he would have to face heavy obligations later on in the day, refrained from discharging; we quit the boudoir. A perfectly heavenly Clairwil had just appeared; we took ourselves to table.

  “Juliette,” Noirceuil said to me, “you must not think that the Comte’s practices are limited to the mild little ritual you and he have just executed. You are our friend, this he knew. He behaved with the appropriate consideration.”

  “He is capable of singular self-restraint,” Clairwil put in.

  “Are you then familiar, Madame,” I asked, smiling, “with what Monsieur does when carried away? Do not leave me in ignorance, I beg of you; for I would fain be privy to everything concerning such an amiable gentleman.”

  “Comte,” Noirceuil asked,
“do you deem it fitting she be told?”

  “Is it truly advisable? Such information must surely give Madame an unfavorable impression of my character.”

  “Reassure yourself,” said Clairwil. “My friend is apt to esteem you above all for the multiplicity and superlativeness of your vices.”

  “This scoundrel’s favorite caprice,” said Noirceuil, “is to have a little boy of five or six bound to the shoulders of a beautiful woman; a knife is taken to the tender victim, innumerable gashes are so inflicted as to cause the flowing of blood to collect and run in a single rivulet down between the buttocks and over the asshole of the woman, who is obliged to shit during the operation. As for Belmor, he, kneeling before that behind—the formulation of the details is correct as I give them, Comte?”

  The Comte nodded.

  “Belmor, kneeling before that behind, laps up the blood while one after the other three men discharge themselves limp into his bum. And so, you see, what you and he have recently done is merely a diminutive version of his choice vagary; here again we find the general truth confirmed: that in a man the lesser quirk relates directly to the greater, and that to the discerning eye there is no lack of clues pointing to a man’s predominating vice.”

  “Fuck!” I exclaimed joyously, throwing my arms around the Comte’s neck, “your mania makes my head fairly reel; I entreat you to employ my bottom in connection with quantities of such operations, and depend upon me to omit nothing that may contribute to the perfection of your ecstasies.”

  My Lord gave me assurance that he would be calling upon me before the day was out; and in a discreet whisper he besought me to reserve him my turd.