The 120 Days of Sodom and Other Writings by Sade Marquis de

Author:Sade, Marquis de [Sade, Marquis de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Classics, Philosophy, Horror, Adult
ISBN: 9780802130129
Amazon: 0802130127
Goodreads: 53087467
Publisher: Grove Press
Published: 1785-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

THE ELEVENTH DAY

They did not rise till late that day, and dispensing with all the usual ceremonies, went directly to table once they had got up from their beds. Coffee, served by Giton, Hyacinthe, Augustine, and Fanny, was largely uneventful, although Durcet could not do without some farts from Augustine, and the Duc thrust his brave instrument between Fanny’s lips. Now, as from the desire to what the desire causes ’tis ever but a single step with personages such as our heroes, they went unswervingly toward satisfying themselves; happily, Augustine was prepared, she blew a steady breeze into the little financier’s mouth, and he came nigh to stiffening; as for Curval and the Bishop, they confined themselves to fondling the two little boys’ behinds, and then our champions moved to the auditorium.

One day little Eugénie, who was becoming more familiar with the rest of us and whom six months in the whorehouse had only rendered all the prettier, Eugénie, I say, one day accosted me and, lifting her skirts, bade me look at her ass. “Do you see, Duclos, how Fournier wants me to keep my behind today?”

An inch-thick patch of shit covered her sweet little asshole.

“And why does she want you to wear that?” I asked her.

“It’s for the sake of an old gentleman who is coming this afternoon,” she explained, “and he expects a beshitted ass.”

“Well, well,” said I, “he’ll be very pleased with you. I’m sure, for yours couldn’t possibly be more thickly encrusted.”

And she told me that Fournier’s was the hand that had smeared her thus. Curious to witness the impending scene, I flew to the spy hole as soon as dear little Eugénie was summoned. The principal actor was a monk, but one of those monks we call gros bonnets, a Cistercian, tall, heavy, vigorous, and nearing sixty. He caresses the child, kisses her upon the mouth, and demanding to know whether she is neat and clean, he hoists her petticoats personally to verify a constant state of cleanliness whereof Eugénie gives him full assurance, although knowing nothing could be further from the truth; but she had been instructed so to speak to him.

“What’s this, my little rascal?” exclaims the monk upon catching sight of that formidable mess. “What? Do you dare tell me you are neat and tidy when your ass is as filthy as this? Why, by the Virgin, I’m sure ’tis a fortnight since this bum’s been wiped. ’Tis very troubling indeed, for I like things to be clean, I do, and it truly looks as if I had better look into the situation.”

While speaking he had deposited Eugénie upon a bed, knelt behind her buttocks, and begun to pry them apart with both his hands. One would have thought that, at the outset, he purposed simply to observe the state of affairs, which caused him great surprise, but little by little he becomes accustomed to things as they are, sees here a virtue where he had seen only a fault before,

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