“'You damned whore, it's got to be my turn, now… Though God's thunder burst, you'll have to go through it after t'other chap!'
“Then there was a furious struggle. Old Fouan could not see very well in the darkness. But he could still distinguish Lisa standing up, looking on, and letting matters go; while her man, wallowing, and thrust aside every second or two, was exhausting himself in vain, but still satisfying himself as well as he could, anyhow, no matter where.
“When it was done, Francoise managed with a last effort to get free, and then, choking and stuttering, she shouted:
“'You beast! you beast! you beast!.. You couldn't do it, that doesn't count… I don't care a rap! but you shall never have me, never I '
“She had triumphed; she took a wisp of grass, and wiped her leg, her whole body trembling the while, as if she were rather satisfied than otherwise at the obstinacy of her refusal. With a gesture of bravado, she threw the wisp of grass at her sister's feet.
“'Here, this belongs to you; it's not your fault if I give it you back.!'
“But Buteau had not yet given up the game.
“He called out to his wife: “You blasted lazy bitch! What's the use of your idly looking on?.. Why can't you help; catch hold of her legs, if you want me to do the job.'”
“Lisa stood aloof, motionless, some ten yards away, casting her eyes far away, and then bringing them back upon the couple before her, without a muscle of her face betraying the least emotion.
“But now that she was called upon by her husband, she showed not a moment's hesitation, and stepping forward seized hold of her sister's left leg, stretched it apart and sat herself upon it as if she had a mind to crush it. Francoise, nailed to the ground, gave herself up, her nerves broken, and her eyelids closed. But she retained full consciousness, and when Buteau had indeed possessed her, she was herself in her turn carried away in such a sharp voluptuous spasm, that she passionately clasped both her arms round his neck fit to choke him, giving forth a long convulsive cry.”
The history of rape is the history of humanity itself. Wherever man has found woman, he has sought by fair means or foul to throw her over on her back, and in nine cases out of ten woman has been content to rest there until the man has vigorously frictioned her. Between the white thighs of the woman is the most wonderful thing that has ever tempted man. To gain its favours he has run frightful risks and ventured his all; — fortune, reputation and even his life. When, in the Twentieth Century, history comes to be written without fear, mystery or falsehood, the recital of the virgins violated, the matrons taken by force, and even of old women sacrificed to unbridled lust, will excite the pity and indignation of soberer mankind. The wonder of it all is that while women have always dreaded the penis-thrusts of the male, they have been unable in the majority of cases even when taken by force, to avoid sharing the fierce joy of the orgasm thereby produced. From the fresh-faced servant girl slung on her back in the kitchen, to the haughty-browed queen, futtered in the shadow of the throne, history teaches the one lesson of the persistent fascination and subserviency of the Coynte of woman to the imperious needs of man.
It is time now to return to the ardent painter and reluctant lady playing at hide and seek in the train.
When the train pulled up with such a sudden jerk, Brandon was at first inclined to suppose that an accident had taken place, and apparently the same thought had struck the lady, for the pistol dropped from her grasp, and she appeared to have swooned.
His first act was to lift her veil and look at her face, which he found to be even more beautiful than he had anticipated. Her beauty was of quite a different type to Maud, and he was well aware that even if he should bring the adventure to a favourable termination he was not likely to find his new acquaintance such an adept in the pleasing sports of love as his wife was, but at any rate she was certainly very pretty, and he judged from her conduct that she would be quite as willing to feel his standing tool lodged between her thighs as he was to put it there, for he believed that the revolver which had fallen from her grasp was only a trick to try him, and that if he had been really frightened by it she would probably have been more disappointed than he would.
He was still holding her in his arms, when a light flashed in his eyes. He looked down and saw that it proceeded from the lantern carried by the guard, who was walking up the line to the engine to find out what was the matter.
It flashed across Brandon's mind that he must look rather peculiar holding a woman in his arms, but it would have made matters worse if he had shouted out an explanation, which would have been overheard in the next carriage; besides it did not really matter, for the guard would not know that they were not a newly-married couple.
He, however, gently placed the lady on a seat, and when a couple of minutes later the guard came back again he asked what was the matter?
“It's all right, sir,” replied the official. “A truck came detached from a goods train and got on the main line, but it was seen, and the signal set against us just in time, but we had to pull up pretty sharp. The line is being cleared and We shall go on again in a minute.
In fact at that moment a sharp whistle came from the engine, and the guard who appeared to be about to say something more, hurried back as fast as he could to his van.
Brandon turned once more to the lady, who still appeared to be in a swoon. He pressed his burning lips to hers, but she did not open her eyes. He began to be a little bit frightened, and thought the best thing to do would be to open her dress. He did so and disclosed a neck white as alabaster, and a bosom covered by a fine chemise trimmed with lace. He pulled this down as far as he could, and brought to view two small but beautifully round breasts, just showing their little pink nipples above the corset which confined them.
He would have been more than mortal if he could have refrained from kissing these soft white warm globes, the very touch of which sent an electric thrill all through him.
The lady sighed, but still her eyes did not open, and one of her feet dropped to the ground.
Brandon who was kneeling by her side, had not seen many women faint, but he thought that in the stillness of unconsciousness she looked even more beautiful than when her eyes were open.
Whilst he was still gazing at her, he was glad to hear the whistle of the engine, and feel the train once more move on. He had made up his mind to possess this woman, but he guessed that if she should come to and find herself being raped, she would struggle and scream. If the train were going at full speed her cries would not be heard amidst the loud rattle and din made by the express, but, of course, it would be madness to attempt to violate her whilst the train was standing still, as her cries would bring the guard and some of the passengers to her assistance, arid not only would he be unable to effect his purpose, but he would certainly be arrested, and in all probability sentenced to a long term of imprisonment, rape being an offence which the judges regard as one of the most serious offences which a man can commit.
It was therefore a relief to him to find that in a minute or two the train was running faster than ever, the driver no doubt wishing to make up for lost time.
Brandon carefully turned back her skirt, and the fine linen petticoats underneath it, exposing to view a pair of well-shaped legs encased in black silk stockings, and encircled by very natty-looking garters with red bows. Just above each of these garters was a frill of that lace which ladies call “insertion” — probably because the sight of it, in that particular place, so often leads to insertions of another kind.
Pulling apart her thighs as gently as though he were touching a sleeping child, he saw with pleasure that the slit of her drawers was a large one. The charms he sought were, however, hidden from his eyes by a chemise of the finest cambric. Carefully lifting this, he saw before his entranced eyes, now gleaming with lust, a forest of golden brown curly hair which extended, in a triangular shape from the line where the thighs join the body, all over the lower part of the belly. At the apex of this triangle, there peered through a thicker and curlier tuft of hair the pouting red lips of a pretty and very tempting looking abode of love.