“Ah, by God,” I said to my friend, “kiss her and kiss her a thousand times over, the woman who resembles you so perfectly, and deem me worthy of you.”
“Since you are so open with me,” said Zanetti, “I shall not be less so with you; listen, and shudder not at what I have to confide. And swear to me you shall never divulge to anyone the things you are about to hear.”
I vowed silence; and then my friend began to speak.
“You know, Juliette, that I am a widow, and therefore accountable to no one for the way in which I choose to conduct my life. Refrain from asking me how I won my freedom … and, rather than forcing me to a confession, guess that it is the reward of crime.”
“Was it committed by your own hand?”
“No. That miserable foe of my pleasures fell to an assassin; in Venice it is easy, with a few sequins, to sever any tie.”
“It might have been better to have done the thing yourself. In any case, that would have established between us one more point in common.”
“Dear soul! How I adore you! And what a praiseworthy thing one does when one liberates oneself from those rogues when they contrive to become troublesome; by what right do they presume to curb our freedom? Let them grant us divorce and husband-murder will be a little less rampant.
“At any rate, you must know that in Venice there exists a notorious association of villains devoted uniquely to robbing, to swindling, to blackmailing and, when the need arises, to killing anybody who resists them. This association’s members and correspondents are many, its influence extends for thirty or forty miles round about; and its headquarters are at the house of a certain Moberti, director of the organization.
“Now, this Moberti is my lover; I am mad about him: no one has such sentiments for a man as I have for him. And yet, my dove, when you see him you shall perhaps wonder at my passion for him; however, so soon as you come to know him your surprise will evaporate, and you will realize that it is possible to love a man for his tastes, his passions, his temper and cast of mind rather than for the physical amenities of his person.
“Moberti is fifty-four; he is as red-haired as Judas; his eyes are rheumy and small, set near together; his mouth is wide and ill-furnished with teeth; his nose and lips negroid; he is short, squat, misshapen, but endowed, in spite of all that, with an instrument so prodigious that, notwithstanding my extreme habit of sodomy, he scorches me, he fairly splits me every time he embuggers me … and he never takes his pleasure with me otherwise than in that manner. That, dear Juliette, is the description of the man I worship, although I put horns of cuckoldry on his head a hundred times every day; but to my truancies he raises no objection; he realizes I cannot forego them; and if, on my side, I tolerate unfaithfulness in him, even providing him with the game he is fondest of, he on his side allows me to fuck with whom and as often as I wish. No jealousy on either side: it is almost what one might call a spiritual union.
“Moberti has the kind of mind I admire; his is a disorder of the imagination so original, a ferocity so rarefied, an abandon of principle so prodigious, an atheism so profound, a corruption so complete, that all these qualities put my brain in a ferment, and upon their account I adore that man: the like of it is not to be found in any of the descriptions of love penned by your poets and your historians down to this day.
“As you must imagine, Moberti has several agents in Venice, whom he places amidst the very rich, and who, in constant contact with the members of this caste, are in a position to provide him with intelligence. I am the foremost of those agents, I gather and sift information supplied by the others, and it is through me the principal thefts are planned. Our affair began but three years ago, I have been serving him for only that long, but I can assert that in this short space I have brought him into more than ten millions and I have had him assassinate at least four hundred people; and that is what swells my head. I discharge, for three days and three nights running, my dear, each time I commit or am instrumental to the committing of crimes of this sort. He himself loves murder to the point where, like that famous Siberian robber, he will, during an expedition, appoint his comrades to carry off the loot in order to have his own hands free to cut the victims’ throats. He is, I insist, the crudest and the most barbarous scoundrel alive today; and it is the wonderful concordance of his vices with those of my character that makes for my devotion to him.
“As if to prove that the criminal destiny is always far happier than the virtuous, provided it be incorrigible and bold, fate has been kind to my lover, who for twenty-five years has been leading a uniformly wicked existence; until now he has not even come under suspicion. Several of his lieutenants have been wheeled, hanged, burned at the stake, but none of them has ever compromised him. This man, rare through courage, rare through perversity, looks forward to another twelve or fifteen active years before we retire, he and I, in Dalmatia, where he has lately bought some superb estates. ’Tis thus we intend to crown our lives, as evil as any that have left their blot in human annals.
“That, my dear, is what I had to tell you; decide whether you would like to throw in your lot with us. If you accept, I shall shortly issue you an invitation to join my lover and me at dinner; you will see him take his pleasure with me; with you too, if you desire; and we shall then all three confer upon arrangements for an intimate relationship.”
“Be sure of it,” I answered, “you could make me no more agreeable proposal. I accept—accept everything—but upon two conditions: the first being, that if your lover cares to amuse himself with me, he shall pay my price, and I would add that, likewise, I shall only collaborate in his thefts provided I be given a substantial share of the proceeds. The second condition is that from this moment forward we share all expenses incurred in connection with our libertine exercises: it is your friend I wish to be, and not your whore anymore.”
That conversation was followed by a delicious supper, and we took leave of each other with promises to meet again before long.
Not knowing how this friendship might develop, I thought best, until such time as matters became clearer, to say nothing about it to my companion. Besides, our relations, though close, allowed both of us a margin of freedom broad enough to enable us each to do whatever each wished independently of the other.
A few days later Signora Zanetti advised me that she had been in touch with her friend; that the latter was exceedingly eager to become acquainted with me; and that she therefore hoped for my company at dinner the next day. They would be expecting me at a charming house Moberti possessed on the island of San Giorgio, a few minutes by boat from the city.
What I had been told touching that extraordinary man’s looks proved accurate: it would be impossible to be uglier than he, and difficult, at the same time, to have a more alert and crafty face.
“Here she is,” said Zanetti, embracing him, “the pretty girl I told you about; I trust you will find her satisfactory in every respect.”
The brigand then took me by the hand and, without a word, led me into an adjoining chamber, already occupied, I was rather surprised to discover, by two boys, fifteen years of age and of extreme beauty.
“Do not allow yourself to be scandalized,” said the lewd little man, “I am a bugger. Notwithstanding, I shall fuck you; in the ass, be it understood. Show that part to me, but have the kind consideration to keep your cunt well out of my sight: enable me to suppose that you are completely devoid of one.”
This opening struck me as rude. What it was that was attractive about this person I cannot say; but from the very first I sensed that such a man was someone to be loved automatically. Moberti was long peering at my behind, no detail escaped his attention; then, giving two forceful slaps to each of my buttocks, “Good,” he pronounced, “it will do, you may take off your clothes.”
“And your friend, Signor?”
“She will come; well she knows that nothing will be begun without her.”
And While I was undressing, Moberti caressed the two adolescents.
The beautiful Venetian appeared.
“You have provided for everything?” her lover inquired. “We are in no danger of being disturbed? All the doors are locked? The dinner will be good?”
“Rely upon me. You know that I never neglect anything.”
“Then let us fuck in peace,” Moberti rejoined, “and surrender to the curious caprices imagination engenders.”
“Nothing stands in your way, my friend; you are screened from every gaze save that of God.”
“Peugh, I worry very little about that witness,” the roué declared, “I am only sorry that no God really exists, sorry, that is, to be deprived of the pleasure of insulting him more positively. But can we speak in this young woman’s presence? Is she of our breed?”
“Indeed she is, you remember what I told you about her. She merely waits to be assigned to her task, and I dare predict her performance will please you.”
“I am already pleased with her ass—as pleased, that is to say, as one can be with a female ass. Come, my dear, ready all the implements.”
Promptly unbuttoning the two boys’ breeches, Zanetti exposed their behinds to the libertine, who, reclining upon a broad sofa, frigged himself while examining them.
“Hurry,” my friend whispered to me, “I am sure that he is burning to see your ass next to those other ones.”
My bush well camouflaged, I quickly take my place beside the boys, and Moberti subjects the three of us to a moment of impartial scrutiny. However, he kisses mine with an unmistakable ardor, tongues it deeply; he then orders one of his bardashes to get between my legs and pluck out some of my pubic hair, so that I am soon jerking and twitching about, and he goes on thrusting his tongue into my anus, and his mistress frigs him while she is herself frigged by the other bardash.
“Now heed me well,” the brigand finally says, “and, above all, contrive to carry out my instructions to the letter. You are to loose a fart into my mouth at the very instant the boy pulls out one of your hairs, and when he pulls out the sixth, just as you fart, you are also to piss upon his face, and to cover him with invectives also.”
I have the good fortune to succeed in complying with this unusual prescription, and with all the punctuality the libertine requests; and when I get to the inundation and when he hears it being accompanied by hard words addressed to the object of his lust, he snatches up a bundle of switches and thrashes me for a whole quarter of an hour.
“What are you doing? What in the world are you doing?” Zanetti cries, pursuant to the role she is playing on the edge of this scene. “What wrong has this creature done to you?”
“She farted, the nasty thing; more, she pissed her wretched urine all over my Ganymede, and sullied his delicious features; that’s what she did, and for such outrages no punishments can be severe enough.”
“Well then, rascal,” Zanetti replies, learned in the fine science of ensuring her lover’s pleasure, “I am going to whip you until you stop treating my friend in this way.”
Thereupon a sound thrashing is administered to him, and after fifteen minutes of this the Italian exhibits a member that has filled out to a foot in length and a circumference of eight inches.
“Have you ever beheld another of this size?” he asks, bringing it near.
“Heaven!” I exclaim, “I am doomed if ever you perforate me with such a device!”
“Yet that is what is about to happen to you,” says he, next ordering his mistress to undress also; “you will not be more discomforted than these children, they have virginal parts, you do not.”
“But whatever befalls them, I have no wish to die.”
At this point our colloquy is interrupted as Zanetti, naked, presents her hindquarters to him for kissing; and while one of the boys pulls a hair from her cunt, she fires a perfectly enormous fart point-blank at her lover’s nose, who swears, storms, hurls himself upon her, and embuggers her straightway. He has distributed the little boys and myself so cunningly that during this operation our three asses, clustered about his goddess’ flanks, are all near enough to his face for his indiscriminate kissing.
I was amazed, I confess, at the manner in which Zanetti stood up to that gigantic member’s incursion into her fundament; the slut never flinched; roaring oaths, the Italian was lunging backward and forward and snapping his teeth at our buttocks the whole time. He withdraws, the group dissolves, and he considers us, cruel lust glittering in his eyes; he lies down upon the sofa, his face buried between his mistress’ buttocks, whose anus he suckles, and from there he orders us to come one by one and frig him briefly, taking good care to kiss his device, to lick his testicles, and to insert three fingers into his ass.
So extreme is the effect upon his member of this byplay that I am convinced he must be at the point of discharging; but no, his self-possession unimpaired, he contains himself, rises, calls for switches, and belabors the four of us with might and main: we each receive two hundred cuts at least. This operation over with, he seizes me, and in his glance I read trouble.
“Buggeress,” he announces, “I am of a mind to kill you.”
Accustomed as I was to all such scenes, fear nevertheless took hold of me, and it was not lessened by what I seemed to detect in Zanetti’s stare.
“Yes, damn your thrice-fucked heart,” the Italian continued, “yes, foul slut that you are, my urge is to kill you.”
And as he spoke he squeezed my throat as if he were going to throttle me; next, he catches up a dagger, poises it over my breast while he is frigged by his mistress who pays no attention to me, who makes no gesture to reassure me. After keeping me several minutes in dreadful suspense, he bends me over the sofa, presents his prick at the entrance of my ass and drives it, without warning or preamble, so forcefully in that cold sweat bathes my face and I am on the verge of swooning. In the meantime, my friend was holding me fast, forestalling all the movements I might otherwise have made, so that I was ploughed, harrowed, cloven by that monstrous machine without being able to put up the slightest defense. While this went forward, Moberti was, with each hand, fondling the hinder parts of a bardash and kissing Zanetti upon the mouth.
A few moments of this and he ordered me, who had been resting my hands on the edge of the sofa, to place them on the floor instead, and to raise my rump as high as I could, and to arch my neck, bending my head as far back as possible; one of the little boys, straddling my neck, stood facing him, and Moberti tongued his mouth for a time; then the other bardash replaced the first, and his mouth was tongued in its turn; and Zanetti, striking a different attitude, came up to place her asshole where her lover had found nought but mouths an instant before. Discharge he did not, and withdrawing his prick suddenly and without precaution, he occasioned me almost as much pain by this precipitate retreat as when he had fought his way into the premises.
“Her ass is good,” he remarked when he had emerged from it, “it grips and it is hot; but she wiggles while being embuggered, and you know, Zanetti, I cannot tolerate unsteadiness, it’s either absolute stillness or I don’t discharge.”
His mistress then flogs him a little with the switches; I was lying down upon the floor, the two acolytes were frigging his member against my behind.
Next, I am told to get up and stretch out flat upon the sofa; he has the children climb upon my body and range their asses side by side and adjacent to mine; he approaches his prick to a juvenile vent; advances; meets with stoutest resistance.
“Then tie the little bastards!” shouts the rake.
And I complying with Zanetti’s request for aid, we bind and garrote the youngster, having rolled him into a ball, so that his head, thrust down between his legs, provides Moberti with a mouth to fuck as well as an ass; and to ensure that he will not budge out of position, Zanetti squats upon the child. Moberti comes up to the gate again, all possibilities of disturbance having now been removed. Three determined heaves and the colossal prick disappears into the anus of the puny little fellow; I frig the libertine’s ass in the m
eantime, and he handles the other bardash.
During that voluptuous act the villain said dreadful things. He raved uninterruptedly about crimes, about abominations, about murders, about wanton destructions, about massacres. And for all that he still did not discharge. The second bardash was immediately trussed in the same position; Moberti enjoyed him in the same fashion, but, this time, he had hung the first, the boy already fucked, upside down and alongside his mistress, who, as hitherto, was squatting upon the bardash being embuggered; thanks to which arrangement, he had an ass, a cunt, and a mouth within reach of his lips. I was flogging him. His utterances became more horrible still, and the next instant I saw blood flowing in rivulets upon the floor: the cruel one, upon unleashing his seed, had stabbed a stiletto twenty times into both the boy he was sodomizing and the other dangling before him.
“Villain!” I exclaimed, redoubling the blows I was bestowing upon his behind, “that is a signal piece of treachery you have just performed, and you may flatter yourself that you are a monster.”
His discharge had been awesome, more like a volcanic eruption than anything else; his comportment was that of a wild animal rather than a human being.
Calm once re-established, the two corpses were dropped into a hole already dug in the little garden attached to the chamber where this scene had just transpired; the three survivors then dressed and readjusted themselves. Moberti fell asleep before it was time for dinner.
“Yes, he is indeed an unusual man,” I complimented his mistress.
“You have not seen anything yet,” Zanetti replied; “his behavior has been mild today, it is sometimes considerably worse.”
Two other victims were there: he would come to grips with them after the midday meal.
“And as they are girls, I can assure you that he will cause them ten times more suffering.”
“Am I to take it that he finds our sex the more moving?”