I met one man in my barracks whose acquaintance I learned to appreciate. He was a man of learning, who, despite twenty years of experience, was still waiting for his commission, the latter always being given away to the beardless and inexperienced sons of wealthy fathers with influence at court.
I divided my wages with him and listened spellbound at least two hours daily to his discourses on human nature, the world and politics. I learned to think methodically. I learned from this man how to compare and to gather concepts.
6. MOTHER DORE
Quite often, during drills, I heard from one or another always the same question: “Are you going to Mother Dore's today?” “When am I going to see you at Mother Dore's?”
Once I asked a tall and skinny lieutenant with deep-set hollow eyes what the meaning of that question was.
“My good God,” he exclaimed, “you have never met Mother Dore? Well, by the devil, then you really don't know anything. I'll be damned, but I'll see to it that you meet her today! May God burn me in hell, but we'll go tonight. I warn you beforehand, you are going to get hustled; they're going to take you for a few bottles of champagne. But I assure you upon my honor, you're going to get more than your money's worth of good, solid fun. My dear Baron, at what time do you want me to pick you up?”
“But please, tell me first what I am to expect.”
“You'll see! Goddammit, that'll be fun. I'll be around at four o'clock. All right? It's much more fun to do those things at night. I'll tell a couple of other good friends.”
I was sorry I had asked, because I could not stand the man's obnoxious noise, and I was determined not to ask anybody else the same question. I decided to take the chance and find out what Mother Dore's was all about. Then it occurred to me to ask my learned friend. His answer was:
“Mother Dore is a female who sells bad beer, end even worse wine, for twice the normal price and she boards licentious girls who consider virtue and chastity one of the original sins.”
“In that case I prefer not to be home when the lieutenant comes around.”
When he asked me what this was all about, I told him about the conversation I had that morning. He said:
“You will have to go for two reasons. In the first place you would become the butt of all sorts of practical jokes and needling if you did not show up, and secondly, I think that a young man should experience as many things as possible.
“A word of caution, though. Leave your watch and other valuables at home, and take only one gold piece with you to defray the costs. Also, be careful not to trust anybody because I am sure that tonight you will learn about a side of human nature which may surprise you. Tell me about your experiences tomorrow and I will give you a little lecture about it.”
So at four o'clock I was off to Mother Dore's.
We went to a small house which was hidden away in a dark narrow side street. I followed them, burning with anticipation and curiosity, into a rather large room. An old woman with shrewd eyes received us.
Lieutenant: “I am bringing you a young cavalier, Mother Dore, who wants to sample your merchandise.”
Dore: “You pig! How did you succeed in snaring such a beautiful specimen? It would be worth quite a lot to me if only your behind would look as good as his.”
The strange compliment surprised me.
She took me by the chin.
Dore: “Really, you are a beautiful boy. How are your father and mother?”
Me: “They are doing fine, thank you, and they also told me that if an old woman like you were to accost me I should punch her in the nose.”
Dore (laughing extra hard): “My dear boy, save your derring-do and your hand for the sword. Both would be at the wrong spot on my nose.”
The others: “Where are the little girls, you old witch; shit on all your double-talk.”
Another: “Fuck you, old bitch.”
And various other compliments which underscored the good breeding of my companions.
Now the girls appeared. Nice figures, good-looking, but the total picture was completely ruined by their brazen looks. It was incredible!
Dore: “Over here, girls, greet your new cousin.”
They all jumped at me, grabbed me and kissed me, exclaiming loudly, “Welcome, dear cousin. By my soul, you have grown up to be a nice big boy!”
Each one of them tugged at me; they all wanted to have me for themselves and they all hollered at each other:
“Hey, you, go to your one-eye!”
“Scram, Old Pugnose is waiting for you!”
“Skinny-thigh is waiting for you. Get the hell away!”
The noise made my ears ring.
Finally Mother Dore came to the rescue and said:
“Get away, all of you. First we have to see if he measures up to our standards.”
She was holding a gadget in her hands which looked for all the world like a cobbler's measuring device.
“Open up your breeches, young cavalier, we don't accept anybody who is undersized.”
I became very annoyed.
“I am getting sick of your talking; do me a favor and get me a few bottles of champagne. And please, leave me alone.”
The bottles arrived, and since I had become the host, I had first choice of which of the girls I wanted to have as a companion. I selected a tiny blonde whose languid eyes showed less harshness than those of the others.
The conversation soon became very animated. It turned into the foulest joke-telling and I was glad that I had selected this particular girl. My companion, either because she had noticed my distaste or because she found no pleasure in it herself, was comparatively selective with her vocabulary.
I kissed her frequently but something was lacking. There was no spirit or life in her tonguing; everything was watery; there was no power to it. I played with her breasts and beautiful snow-white skin, but her breasts were soft and lacked firmness. She expanded her chest to make them lift, but the only thing that moved was her rib cage.
She tried everything in her power to excite my passion but she caused far less excitement than the mere touch of my beautiful Glossen's little finger would have done.
The wine had taken hold of the spirits. The girls were asked to take off their clothes. I asked my blonde what she thought of that proposal. She shrugged her shoulders and answered, “Unfortunately I am in the position that I have to do it, and after a while one reaches a point where the memory of the time that such a lewd suggestion would have caused shame and disgust is only a very dim one.”
Our girls were undressed. They had to dance and stand in all sorts of positions as they were dictated by the most licentious imaginations. They did have very pretty figures, though they were very close to becoming old and flabby.
But the game did awaken my temperament and when I noticed that one of my comrades disappeared with the lady of his choice, I suggested the same to my blonde.
“Your wish is a command and I have to obey. This is not the proper place for refusal,” she answered, and we got up.
We went up to her room. I carried her to her bed. Her body was warm, but it was not the warmth which entices and causes passionate desire. I caressed her weak muscles, petted her passion pit and had the feeling that the mound under the Venus rug was worn out. All my work had no other effect but a few weak smiles and kisses without feeling.
I set myself in position.
My little blonde opened her bag of tricks and proved to be a virtuoso in the art of love. But passion was lacking.
She felt that I was about to approach my climax.
“Move as little as possible.”
I obeyed her; she grabbed me in the small of the back and started to buck and thrash under me, working with short, jerking jolts. I must admit that I spent with much pleasure.
“Are you satisfied with me?”
“I definitely am, dear girl, but it seemed to me that you did not take part in the pleasure.”