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When Victoire returned, I ordered shoes with high slender heels made for her as I had done for Ingenue. She caused me as stout an erection as her sister had. But I was not interested in deflowering her. I simply employed her as an hors- d' oeuvre, to whet my palate and put me in form for heavier undertakings: the encuntment, more vigorously executed thanks to Victoire' s ministry, of Minonne and Connette, respectively the sister and mistress of Trait- d' Amour, my secretary, or of Trait- d' Amour' s mother- in- law. To prepare myself for these enterprises I would have Victoire, gaily clothed and of course shod, enter the room. I would seize her by the skirts and seat her on my knees, being myself nude, if circumstances permitted. My trousers down, if trousers I was wearing, I would have myself caressed, given a few licks of the tongue. If I chanced to be naked, my prick would wedge itself between her thighs and commence to waggle up and down, to left and right. If she were fully dressed I would have her fist my prick and, she being exceedingly innocent, say to her: " Oh, my pretty one, squeeze my finger tight, tighter still!" Minonne, Connette, or the mother- in- law, one of the three, would always arrive. Trait- d' Amour would go off to summon one of them as soon as he saw me encloset myself with Victoire. Hearing their approach, I would, by a hidden door, convey the charming little one to her room. Then I' d return for a delicious fuck in which Trait- d' Amour would participate by tickling my balls. Once I was done, he would straightaway encunt whomever I had possessed and in my turn I would tickle his balls.

This life would have suited me for a long time – even though it was a life led without my beloved Conquette Ingenue, who had become Madame Vitnegre – had my sisters Genovefette and Marie not decided that it was indecent for me to keep Victoire alone with me in the house. They joined forces and obliged me to apprentice her to a lingerie merchant and his wife, perhaps the most virtuous and Godfearing couple in Paris. Madame Beauconin led little Victoire away to her new guardians.

Fortunately the good Fanfan a few days before, had introduced me to a superb woman who was separated from her husband and hence wildly amorous. Victoire knew nothing of my latest acquisition, and this lovely woman, supposing that my heart belonged to Victoire, fucked beneath me like a she- devil, calling me her papa and bidding me. " Stuff her, stuff your beloved Victoire, your passionate and tender daughter."

Chapter Five

But the moment was approaching when I was to recover Conquette Ingenue; my keenest desire, even as I lay in the arms of Madame Maresquin (Victoire' s friend) was to make a cuckold of Vitnegre.

There came a day when I encountered my Conquette on the Pont Notre- Dame. She was most distraught, very tearful, and she cast herself into my arms. I was deeply moved and all my former anger evaporated at once. Although aggrieved, my delicious daughter was still beautiful, perhaps the more so for her unhappiness. My first impulse was to lay firm hold of her cunt, but I checked myself, for we were in the street. I went to see her the next evening, at the hour she had told me her husband, or rather her monster, was never at home. I did indeed find her alone and in the course of that first visit she confessed to me she had taken a lover. Infinitely pleased by this avowal, which proclaimed Vitnegre' s cuckoldry, I flattered her, spoke sweet nothings, coaxed her, got her to agree to open her cunt to Timon, her beau. But soon after I gathered this was a purely Platonic attachment wherein Conquette found consolation for the brutalities of a thoroughgoing debauchee by recounting her woes to a soft- pricked but sincere and spiritual poet. She liked to speak of her undemanding and patient lover, and as I was the only one with whom she could safely discuss these questions, I promised her I would arrange secret interviews for them. She was in seventh heaven.

On my second visit, Conquette mentioned some of Vitnegre' s recent infamies. Upon one occasion, stooping down to pick up something from the floor, he had one of his friends seize her cunt. She had protested.

" Why, it' s merely a cunt you' ve got there in your hand," Vitnegre said coolly to his colleague, " Didn' t I tell you her cunthair is softer than silk? Well, old man, would you believe it? The inside is softer still."

Conquette wished to leave the room but he caught her brutally by the arm, had her climb aboard him, drew her skirts high up above her thighs and clutched her cunt in his hand, bringing it into clear view of his friend and frigging her betimes. While all this was going on he described how much pleasure she was able to give her partner when she chose to be agreeable.

" But," he added, " she' s like every other whore: you' ve got to give her a good thrashing to make her do her duty." Next, he attempted to expose her breasts, but she broke away from him, whereupon he swung his booted foot and bestowed a lusty kick upon her ass. Some few days later the same friend having dined with them, Vitnegre, noticing that after coffee his wife had gone off to piss and then paid a visit to the bidet, said to his cohort, Culant by name, " There we have a damned clean cunt, and were we to employ a little dexterity, or if need be a little force, we might both be able to give it a lick or two. However, if it' s to be force, don' t be startled if you hear somewhat of an uproar. But if by milder means we are to obtain our way, here before you is the key. It opens the door which yields entrance to the corridor. You will step in when, weary myself, I shall say in a loud tone, ' Come, Madame, show me a smiling cunt and let' s begin again.' Then advance boldly, my dear chap, smite unsparingly, for I' d as soon have the whole wide world fuck this bitch. Her path' s still insufficiently trod and needs widening!"

Conquette was called back into the room and the husband had her sit down before the fire. He deployed his prick, uncovered his large brown balls and recommended that his friend do the same. As the latter hesitated, the husband said to his wife, " Untrouser him this very instant, buggress, or I' ll tear out your cunt- hair by the handful!" He did indeed reach forth his hand, Conquette uttered a cry. Culant immediately brought his prick and balls to light and in so doing asking Vitnegre to deal gently with her.

" Look sharp there, buggress. Frig us both, one with either hand. I am her master," went on that scoundrel, addressing Culant, " she does just what I tell her – how can she help but obey?"

Conquette was weeping; Culant sought to intercede in her behalf. " Very well, then, let her suck my prick, there, and that way, on her knees, for I think I' d like to squirt into her mouth. I used to discharge into my first wife' s – she died, you know, and perhaps from overdrinking, who knows? It used to be my greatest delight to slake her thirst!" Culant remarked to the effect that thus to use it would be to spoil the prettiest of mouths. " My God! Objections, objections, always objections! Then I' ll employ my own mouth-"

" The sight would make me come, I fear," Culant said.

" Why then, my sly one, pray go into this little room." Vitnegre thrust Conquette into a dimly lit cabinet and then urged Culant in after her, wherewith the wicked fellow adjusted his dress and left the house for another where he had the habit of gambling. Culant, left to his own devices, sucked and licked Conquette but dared not fuck her, having so diminutive a prick he was certain she would recognize that it did not belong to her master. Nevertheless, Culant discharged six times and Conquette did twice as well. When sated and spent, he gave her a blow of his fist, that she might persist in mistaking him for Vitnegre.