THE MERE FACT that a man is a prolific writer does not make him a good writer, for facility does not necessarily add quality to a story. We see the negative side of this situation in the many writers hacking out one or more books every month and depending on their sale merely to keep bread in their houses. Of course, books written at such speed suffer, for there is not the time for critical contemplation of the work before it is rushed to the publisher, who in his turn rushes it to the typographer who sets it in type hastily so that it may be rushed to the printer. Finished copies are rushed from the bindery to the point of sales, where they sell quickly or they are rushed back to the publisher for credit.
The keynote of this process is rushing, of time being of the essence, and as a result we see contemporary erotic literature as suffering in quality. But rushing is not necessarily the factor that prevents a work or a writer from being great. Le Nismois, author of The Voluptuous Army (originally l'Armee Volupte), was a prolific writer whose high standards maintained themselves throughout his production. Though he lived in a time we look back upon as more leisurely than ours, still his production kept pace with the modern high-speed 'typewriters' (to use Truman Capote's term), and the fact that his books are as good as they are illustrates the fact that a man of talent may write without necessarily writing badly. Only the bad writers write badly, and they would write badly if they spent an age on each chapter.
The Voluptuous Army is a strange and wondrous book, strange because we are possessed of the feeling of the ultimate reality of the people and events that are presented, and wondrous in that the circumstances of the story are really so fantastic. It is charming and delightful, a true classic that deserves to be openly made available to a wide audience. It fills a gap in published French erotica that has long existed, for Nismois has not generally been known to English-speaking people. Collectors have long known of his works, of course, and they have sought them out either in the original French editions, or in the few translations that have been made.
The present volume was reproduced from a worn and dog-eared copy borrowed long enough for a photocopy to be made. It had obviously seen better days, had been read repeatedly over the years, and was nearly falling apart. The title page reads:
The Voluptuous Army/by/Le Nismois/drawing of a bust of a woman/ translated/from the French/of/Robert l'Amoureux. On the reverse is: This edition is limited to 350 copies/This is copy No
No number appears, so it is impossible to tell if, in truth, the volume I used is one of the original 350 or if it is one of the many possibly struck off by the printer for his own use and sold surreptitiously. It is also impossible for me to determine at this time who the actual translator was, for 'Robert l'Amoureux' is hardly likely as the real name of the man who 'Englished' the text.
But in spite of these problems, which are really of concern to the specialist, The Voluptuous Army is a fine book, delightful to read and worthy of a place in the permanent library of anyone with an interest in rounding out collection of literature.
Dale Koby, A.B., M.A. Atlanta, Georgia December 1967
CHAPTER I
THAT MORNING, Emile Lodenbach rose late. He had danced away a great part of the night at the Countess of Bouteville's, paying his attentions to the prettiest and most passionate of the waltzing ladies, although his thirty-two years counseled him to moderation, and further, he had for a long time discussed and disputed with the beautiful Lucette de Mongellan, a discussion and dispute which had kept him from his sleep, once in his bed, until broad daylight.
"Ah, Lucette, Lucette," he murmured, turning and tossing on his couch.
Lucette de Mongellan, grace personified, twenty-eight years of age, a brunette bewitching in her beauty and verve, fluttered before his eyes and kept him from his sleep which she conquered without difficulty by the single charm of her memory.
But why discuss and dispute with a pretty woman? To obtain that which she appeared indisposed to accord, or amused herself by putting off.
Lucette, however, stood accused by the exhibition of moments of real bursts of tenderness! Oh, feminine mind, who can ever know what is hidden in your depths!
Emile rose late and in a bad humor, quarreled with his faithful valet, Leonard, made a scene with the cook, Rosalie, over an omelet which wasn't frothy enough, as he liked them, threw his coffee out the window which fortunately gave upon a little garden attached to the hotel in which he lived, rue Cotambert, and, sulkily ensconced in his studio, decided to go through his correspondence.
What profession did Emile Lodenbach exercise? None, if we do not consider the collection of rents and interest for his personal use. Twenty-four thousand francs of rents to manage: care and boredom enough for a whole existence. Those unhappy rich are never pitied enough! Nevertheless, there was one good point in Emile's character: he interested himself in several less fortunate friends, sometimes lent them money, without conditions, a considerable sum when they asked it of him for an idea which he thought good, and, a no less extraordinary thing, if the idea was successful, they returned him his money and a considerable sum over and above it, which he refused, but which they obliged him to accept under the pretext that it would serve to augment his ability to lend again.
He had seen this ability grow to the point of constituting a little fortune beside his own, and it had ended by imposing upon him a whole labor of accounting and correspondence the satisfied friends recommending to him their friends in search of a good-natured capitalist and these he never refused without investigation into the man's character and the worth of the idea submitted to his judgment.
On this day, his mind was distracted and he read his mail with little comprehension. Lucette had not deserted his thoughts.
"Ah, Lucette, Lucette," he repeated for the thousandeth time! "Whatever possesses her that she is so receptive and so mocking, so ardent and then so glacial, so easily understanding matters of the heart - and the senses, and so prompt to reject them! A coquette she is certainly, for your life, but good too, that shows in her eyes, humid when one depicts to her the fire which consumes him! Yes, but she lets it consume you. Truly, I am ill every single time I meet with Lucette and my temperament becomes heated like that of a young buck. I put myself into such a state that I am forced the next day to run to the Folies-Bergere, to the Moulin-Rouge or such places, I, a man of poise, a serious man, for, by the devil's horns, since I have known her, it has been impossible for me to become attached to any flower whatever whose perfume I could use for even a little time. Ah Lucette, this very evening I've got to lose myself in the Jardin de Paris! Is this reasonable?"
He crushed a letter in his hands, then suddenly, turning to the signature, he remarked that it bore none.
"Well, now, what sort of business is this?"
He reread the epistle to which he had previously attached no significance, and remained open-mouthed, asking himself if someone were playing a trick on him. "To Monsieur Emile Lodenbach:
"Love and its pleasures are the only laws of progress.
"Woman is the goddess of the temple; man is the levite.
Hymns and prayers become the sources of the voluptuous.
"All men and women enlisted in our army accept the general communion of love which unites soldiers and officers in feminine pleasures, with delicacy in the nuances of all phases of the voluptuous, thanks to the perfect accord among all.
"To love woman is to love God: one may love woman only in proclaiming her priestess of love, opening to all her brothers the gates of the Infinite, in the intoxication of multiple sensualities."
Examining the paper on both sides, Emile Lodenbach sought an explanation.
"'Love and its pleasures,'" he murmured, "'are the laws of progress!' well, and then? What the devil's that got to do with me? 'Woman is the goddess of the temple; man is the levite!' Ah, Lucette, Lucette."
Once more he exclaimed. Decidedly, Lucette had subjugated him! Did she know the domination she exercised over his being? What a woman! What a coquette!
She inflamed me with her precocity which sometimes, often, bordered on cynical effrontery, but what sweetness there was in this effrontery! The words came from her lips in a smile of candor which stupefied and cut short any reply. What had she said during that last waltz when she had given over her eyes to abandon, herself to the vertigo of the whirling, her body almost in his arms? Yes, he remembered. A great sigh swelled her breast; the world no longer existed; it seemed to him that he possessed her, and that his hands found knowledge under her dress of the treasures he coveted: Lucette's eyes rose to his with a tremble of the lashes and she murmured:
"You see me and you feel me naked!"
Was it possible for a man, hearing such simple words from a woman, to experience such a commotion? Yes, he saw her naked body, he held her, then she turned mocker and said:
"Poor Emile, you are losing your goods!"
He was losing, losing ah, she did not withdraw her body from the soft compression in which they whirled. He reddened like a child apprehended in a fault, she held one leg almost glued to his, he trembled, they went into the last measures, and she said quite softly:
"Slower, my dear, slower, so that we may stop near a door. You shall save yourself. You must dry yourself. Our evening together is over. Thank you. I should be pretty, if you produced the same effect on me!"
What response, what reply could one make to such a woman!
Affected and disconcerting, attractive and bantering, adorable and hateable, ah, Lucette Lucette!
CHAPTER II
WHAT A HOLE THERE was in his existence after the meeting at the ball! The dangerous siren carried away the mind and senses of poor Emile Lodenbach, and he was not even able to go see her, the tireless woman of the world receiving only on Tuesday afternoon, and in the midst of numberless visitors there would not be the slightest opportunity for a moment of isolation with her.
Many times, in his madness, he wrote burning letters, inspired sometimes by a sentimental style and sometimes in a lively vein destroying them immediately upon the sudden vision of his enamorata's ironic smile.
"Ancient trumpets of Jericho," he cried, "proclaim it through space. It is by the flesh, the flesh, the flesh that she holds me, let us run to a remedy."
He thought of it no more, but that evening went to the Moulin-Rouge, with the resolution to pick up some vicious courtesan, whom he would keep on a renewable lease.
There was no lack of rumpled wenches. He would dictate the conditions: a month of trial, good-living during that month, the woman's purse filled to her wish, against her shameless abandon to any and all experiences in the art of the most highly-coloured cochonneries. She must remove with her flesh the Lucetienne influence. If he were satisfied, he might even marry this salvaged merchandise.
Why didn't he propose marriage to Lucette? Because he had asked her about it, and she had laughed in his face, replying:
"I marry, I, Lucette, ah, my dear. I became a widow at the end of six months of marriage: my husband loved me too much, and that pleased me. Strength will not save a man who is excessively in love. Yours intrigues me, and I would not have you die."
There was a mob at the Moulin-Rouge and sex abounded.
"Women, a woman for me," said Emile, shaking hands with Glomiret the painter whom he had perceived immediately upon entering.
"A woman, you are looking for a woman in this place. You!"
"Here or elsewhere, aren't they all alike?"
"Oh, yes, certainly, worthless hacks, all of them."
"Don't say that. Objects of pleasure, yes, and I don't want anything else."
"If you're looking for an adventure, you've come in the nick of time."
"An adventure would frighten me! Thighs, buttocks, breasts, I ask no more than that, the whole spiced with a lecherous disposition, without too much self-appreciation."
'The devil! Just the phoenix for this place! Try the adventure."
"What is it?"
"A Titian blonde, of great elegance, with the air of a lost princess, an unknown with a beauty of face and figure, apparently with her maid, seated both of them. See, there, over on the side, studying everybody, up to the moment unseduced in spite of several attempts."
"A go-fuck-yourself to harvest."
"Oh, she will understand that you are not an habitue and may show herself more receptive."
"Or more recalcitrant if she wants to be uppish."
"I don't imagine so. She wants an adventure and you find a fulfillment of the conditions dictated by your search for a woman, and this one is not marked on the program of those usually found under the wings of the Moulin."
"And you?"
"Beaten, in my first attack."
"Not encouraging."
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained. You're not timid."
"And I don't want to be. I'll try it."
They separated, and Emile approached a very pretty woman, seated at a table with another who from her dress was obviously playing second fiddle and who was drinking a glass of Grenadine.
"A bad counsellor, solitude, Madame," he said, saluting her quite properly.
She looked him over from head to foot, smiled, and responded:
"Isn't it preferable to the society of the crude and drunken?"
"You are severe! But would you permit me to break into your solitude?"
"Why not?"
"Ah, what could be more delightful? A little place, and I shall try -"
"To amuse me? I do not ask more, proceed."
Emile experienced emotion and pleasure. The woman was not only very pretty and quite well-poised, with a poise bespeaking good taste, but had a je ne sais quoi about her which gave her an astonishing resemblance to the terrible Lucette.
"Here's an opportunity," he said to himself, "to conquer the shadow in default of the prey itself!"
Seated between the lady and her maid, he murmured, "Now let me introduce myself."
"Yes, it's time to think about that."
"Monsieur Emile Lodenbach, a bachelor, in easy circumstances, loving pleasure, bored with being alone, and -"
"Running after women."
"Permit me, seeking one woman."
"For the evening."
"For several evenings, for a long while, forever perhaps, if we got along well."
"A woman who frequents this place!"
"Or elsewhere, I shall not quarrel about that."
"You would marry her?"
"After a trial, naturally."
"How frank you are!"
"Do you want a husband?"
She shrugged her shoulders, smiled in disdain and replied, "I am married."
"Ah, a thousand pardons! Limited liberty, then."
"Liberty according to my will. In my turn to present myself, not for any engagement for one or several nights, but in the event that our relations should be prolonged over a more or less indeterminate period, Lucie -"
She hesitated; he broke in, "Useless, dear lady, when you know me better."
"Then you hope to go no further in your quest and that I shall accept your seeking?"
"I hope only what you will to be! You are mistress and may fix yourself the nature of those hopes."
"And, if you were losing your time chatting with me? There are other women here."
"I am not losing it, having obtained a few minutes of your company."
"Very well. I conclude my presentation: Lucie Steinger. My husband is a diplomat, it doesn't matter where; I am a Frenchwoman. Are you amusing yourself here?"
"Much, since I have been at your table."
"Then you would be much more amused somewhere else, if I took you there."
"You would carry me off?"
"If you wish."
"Well, now! But -"
"Exactly, the conditions that one always makes in chance meetings. Well, for my part they are simple. I am rich; I am bored; I want some distraction, you offer yourself, seeking also on your side, and I see no reason why we should waste any more time in preliminaries, under the stares of these idiots who surround us. Do you wish to withdraw?"
"Never in my life! I would like, however, to establish certain proofs. You will pardon me, if I hurt your feelings."
"Speak, proceed, I have said it."
"I am looking for a woman because, because -"
"Because you need a woman."
"For several reasons. My head is in a whirl. I am heartsick, and over-excited."
"Oh dear!"
"A memory pursues me, obsesses me, tortures me."
"You are in love?"
"I think that it is rather a mad desire."
"Yes, and she who inspires it?"
"You resemble her."
"Oh, lovely! An adventure of the imagination."
"You do not understand. I came here to get myself a woman, it didn't matter which, with whom I should make the arrangement, if at the end of a month, or longer even, she satisfied me enough for -"
"For?"
"I am embarrassed."
"Don't be disturbed. I have replaced this woman in the disposal of your time. Except for the proposition which you have no need to create for me, I wish only to satisfy you."
The maid's presence hindered him, Lucie understood and added, "Don't bother about Yvonne. She belongs to me, body and soul, don't you, Yvonne?"
"Oh, yes."
"You ask of your unknown?"
"That she take from my flesh the tremblings of the desire which is killing me by giving herself up entirely to my passion in the refinements of debauchery."
"The very vilest," she murmured, leaning over.
"Yes."
"We were made for each other."
"Ah! It sounds like a dream."
"Like a dream come true! Shall we leave?"
"I would follow if you were Marguerite de Bourgogne."
"Fortunately for your security, those days are far in the past!"
CHAPTER III
EMILE'S ASTONISHMENT was only beginning. A coupe stood at the corner of the rue de Bruxelles. Lucie made him get in, and he heard Yvonne say, "To the hotel."
The carriage started to move, and he murmured in Lucie's ear, next to whom he was seated, with Yvonne opposite, "Are we actually going to your house?"
"Where better?"
"But your husband?"
"Traveling."
"The servants?"
"All devoted to me. They will not talk. Besides, at this hour, few of them are not abed. You are a gallant man and you will submit to a little condition."
"Which is?"
"That five minutes before we arrive, you will permit your eyes to be bandaged, not that I doubt your loyalty, but because I insist that you do not know where we are going."
"So that I shall not know where you live? Ah, but we are no longer within the terms of the contract."
"You think?"
"Well, I was seeking an adventure which would repeat itself in the near future, and you propose an adventure without a sequel."
"Who told you that?"
"Your condition. How should I see you again? How should I find you?"
"It depends on your satisfaction with me. You are looking for a woman who corresponds with certain dispositions of your mind. Myself, I am looking for a man who suits certain exigencies of my temperament. We are only in the first stages. Nothing assures us that we shall please each other after the first little, what do you call it?"
"Bagatelle."
"A stupid word, quite meaningless. Aren't there others?"
"Quantities, but the expression itself matters very little."
"Very well, if we do not please each other after the bagatelle, why should I give you the temptation to find me again by indicating where I lodge. There is still time for you to withdraw from the adventure."
"It is too late. I shall submit to the condition."
"Thanks. And now, dream or act, as you will, our star mounts the firmament."
The horses trotted on, traversing streets and boulevards, but Emile paid little heed to the course they took.
While he talked with Lucie, he studied her, and the colour of her hair being less perceptible in the half-obscurity of the coupe, he noted a more and more marked resemblance to Lucette.
Even in her voice, he found traces of Lucette's intonations, and sometimes, her look, burning with a soft or a crafty expression, made him jump, made him ask himself if he were not prey to some hallucination.
On the narrow forward seat, Yvonne remained silent as if utterly detached from the scene being played under her eyes: her face, of an indifferent complexion, betrayed no emotion, but there were moments, her eyes crossing those of her mistress, of an imperceptible nodding of the head, as if she approved her words.
"Dream or act!" Lucie had said.
In fact, Emile was urged both to dreams and action.
A woman of compelling beauty was by his side, authorizing him to sentiment or audacity, and he felt himself gently cradled by the smile she accorded him, by the look imprinted with tenderness and desire which she threw upon him, by the languorous attitude in which she awaited his decision.
"Wouldn't dreaming," he said, "be stealing part of the carnal pleasure which we promise each other?"
She drew near him with a brusque movement, threw forward her head with a mutinous stir, and replied, "Dreaming, do you cure the ill from which you suffer?"
The mutinous air of her face was challenging and made her still more imperiously adorable. He sighed and answered, "Ah, you are she even to your words, your attitudes!"
"What is her name?"
"Lucette."
"Almost Lucie. My dear romantic, you are badly embarked. Trying to cure you by our follies, we shall envenom the wound."
"I'm afraid so."
"Very well, I am a good princess. I have pity. Renounce my person and address yourself to Yvonne. I permit it and pass to the role of confidante."
He seized her about the waist, sought her lips, which she did not refuse him, and, in a kiss full of passionate fury, he murmured:
"Act, kill the dream, act, both of you even, if you will, that nothing may survive in my soul but the memory of voluptuous intoxication."
"If you will, if I wish! And I wish it. Yvonne is a beautiful girl and she will serve us the impromptu which I offer you, in her superb nudity. Who loves woman loves women and by the same right, women are flowers in the bouquet of love."
She glued her supple body with feline graces, to his. In the emotion of the caress which followed, he became entwined about her.
Yvonne hazarded her first words: "To love beauty is to love Love; and to love Love is to conquer jealousy by the devotion of individuals to others."
"Leave your bench," commanded Lucie, "and sit here next to us, it will be better for you and for him. For this big baby that heaven has thrown in our path must have more than luxury: he needs warm, feminine tenderness."
No whit embarrassed, Yvonne left her seat and installed herself on the other side of Emil, who examined her more attentively.
Tall in stature, like her mistress, her bust was a little more solid, but she was quite as aristocratic in her correct and refined bearing. Regular features, brown hair, small hands, she might have aspired to the leading part, but knew how to content herself with the second. She seduced and she attracted, and Emile almost fell into reverie.
"Give her a kiss," murmured Lucie.
He obeyed passively; his lips were placed on those of the young soubrette who abandoned herself to him, without false modesty, in one of those sticky caresses which revolutionize one's being. He trembled, drew Lucie closer to him and she, almost resting on his breast, said to him:
"My lord is a gourmand, two Odalisques in his seraglio! May Your Highness honor the Sultana with a little curiosity, and the divine fire will penetrate him to his greatest good!"
"Curiosity, certainly! One is curious from the first time he meets with a woman; one becomes curious next to you, next to her."
His hand descended the length of Lucie's dress, engulfed itself under her skirts, mounted again between her legs, was entangled in a wave of lace which it brushed aside and planted itself on the satiny flesh of her thighs.
"Well, well, well, exploring hand, what have you discovered in that region?"
"The port of safety, perhaps."
"In any event, the realization of desire."
She threw herself backwards against the wall of the coupe, her thighs open to help him, and added:
"Travel, travel, little hand, you are a welcome guest here."
It was traveling, rascal of a hand, and exploring all sides, saluting the clitoris with a little tickle, the down with caressing fingers, and the buttocks with a warm compression.
Lucie sat up straight, pushed the hand away softly and said, "We are agreed, my friend, and we approach. Yvonne is going to bandage your eyes, and you will give me your word of honor not to remove it without my permission."
"You have it."
The bandage over his eyes, knowing the two women to be close, very close, to him, he murmured, "Ah, take my hands and give them joy in recompense for the sorrow my eyes feel to be deprived of the sight of your beauty."
Both leaned toward him, and each directed one of his hands beneath her skirts; both entwined themselves about him, and prevented him from seeing even if he had tried.
Where were they? What route had the coupe taken? Emile would have had difficulty in telling. It seemed to him sometimes that they were rolling over a country road, sometimes, that they rumbled over badly kept pavements. He heard the whine of a heavy grill open. The coupe entered a long tunnel, turned sharply on a flagged terrace, and stopped.
"Wait," said Lucie, "until we have descended, and you may remove your bandages."
The two women jumped to the ground, the coachman holding the door, he followed them, his eyes free, and perceived a great square courtyard, surrounded by buildings. Lucie entered through a glazed door into a vestibule ornamented with colonnades, with thick carpet from which could be seen, to the right, a narrow spiral staircase. Yvonne stood aside to permit his entrance, coming in after him and reclosing the door.
In the middle of the vestibule, Lucie turned, smiled, and said to him:
"You are now in my home, in apartments reserved to my use."
"Your home is a seigniorial dwelling!"
"An enormous barrack, my dear. Yvonne, take care of my things."
"Yes, Madame."
Yvonne left by a door opposite the stairway. Lucie, beginning the ascent of this stair, turned and said:
"Come. Come with me, we are our own masters.
CHAPTER IV
WAS HE LIVING A story of the Thousand and One Nights?
At the top of the stairway, ending after several steps in an ante-chamber, Lucie conducted Emile through a corridor into a rectangular salon of monumental proportions, in white and gold, the ceiling ornamented by a painting which represented a scene of Mount Olympus, and immense mirrors along the two side walls.
She asked him to be seated in a chair in the middle of the room and said to him, "My dear, dream a few minutes, time for me to refresh myself, and I am yours. The doors are open. If you wish to wander about, do not be afraid to come and go, to look where you will. I ask you to respect only this exit here, a boudoir and my chamber, where I shall not be long. Over that way, at the end of the salon in the dining-room where we shall sup in a little while; over this way, two other salons. You are in the part reserved to me and no one enters here without my authorization."
She extended her ungloved hands to him, he kissed them, and she left.
When he was alone, he fell into a reverie and he heard the muffled tones of an orchestra playing the last waltz he had danced the evening before with Lucette de Mongellan! He rose, his whole being upset, and thought to himself:
"And if Lucie were indeed Lucette!"
But Lucette she certainly was not. Characteristic differences existed between the two women, and the hair itself could not, from one day to the next, have undergone such a transformation in colour.
The waltz continued in a slow and voluptuous movement; he turned his steps toward the dining-hall whence the sound appeared to come. He raised the intervening curtain and perceived a small table set with two places. On the walls, paintings were hung which represented naked couples enlaced in each other's arms and exchanging embraces.
While he was examining this room minutely, the music was stilled. Not another sound reached his ears. He returned to the salon, crossed it and raised the curtain at its other extremity to discover another salon, round in form, with a skylight in its ceiling, decorated in green and silver, and giving on another as Lucie had said, but into this he did not go.
Returning again, he stood before the mirrors, causing numberless repetitions of his image with the reproduction of the furniture which surrounded him. He stopped in front of the forbidden door, but he did not open it. Finally, in a marvellous deshabille of lace and filmy accessories, Lucie rejoined him.
"Have I been long?"
"Lady, when one awaits you, it seems an eternity."
"Thank you, and am I not still beautiful?"
"To frighten one."
"What, now! To encourage rather."
"With you, one does not know if he is dreaming, or if he has returned to reality."
"Think only of reality, my friend, it is useless to contract another love sickness! Yes, reality, let us throw ourselves into things and live the cochonneries which you shall teach me."
He was lost at her feet, and thrusting aside underskirts, chemise, he raised everything to discover legs which were perfectly modelled, buttocks, her white belly, and lovely thighs, enough in all to inflame him for an interminable series of nights.
"But, if you devour me that way, you will do small honor to my little supper."
"Are we here for the pleasures of the table?"
"They help."
"So be it, I suspend my hymns."
The word "hymns" revived in his memory the unsigned letter he had received that very morning, and he murmured, sighing, "Hymns and prayers become the sources of voluptuous."
Lucie's hand fell upon his head and she replied, "Voluptuousness is in love when one knows how to inspire it."
"Love, love, intoxication of the senses, drunkenness of the soul!"
"Love lies in the union of the senses and sentiments. Love my body, love woman, you love me. Yes, drink to your happiness in uniting your lips to my sex."
She offered her pretty love-nest to his ardent caresses, a love-nest surmounted by a soft and curling down of chestnut-brown which subtended the perspective of her white belly illuminating her navel. He plunged himself into a delirious sucking, and she let herself fall almost upon his shoulders.
"Oh, folly, folly," she said, "do not call us yet. Come, come to supper."
She threw herself toward the dining-hall and he pursued her, pleading:
"Stay, stay here, please."
"No, no, I am hungry, I want to eat."
"Oh, that is different, my darling. I am at your orders."
She stopped, took his arm, and extended her lips to his.
"You are nice; I shall be a good mistress," she said.
As soon as they were seated and their chairs drawn up to the table, and no longer across from each other, as the chairs had been placed, the music began again, playing the bewitching waltz and he cried:
"Why do they play that waltz in such a way?"
"Does it displease you?"
"Oh no."
"Listen then, and drink of this nectar."
She poured him a glass of golden wine, and as he carried it to his lips, Yvonne entered, entirely naked, carrying a platter.
"Oh," said he, "Olympus is not only in the pictures. She is wonderfully built."
"And her skin is velvet. Feel it."
"I want only yours."
"Would you like to have me dressed in so few clothes?"
"Oh, yes."
"Give me an example."
He rose, already drunk with love and desire, and rapidly threw off his clothing, tossing it here and there while Yvonne picked it up. When he was naked, he perceived that Lucie had also appeared in this state, a radiant creation in femininity. She touched a spring and one of the paintings gave way, opening one whole side of the wall, thus revealing a salon magnificent with riches and splendour.
In her nakedness, Lucie sat across his knees, passed one arm about his neck and kissing his lips, said, "Hebe served the gods, and I shall serve you with Yvonne my dear, sultan. What do you wish to eat?"
"This pate, from your lips."
"Yvonne, bring a dish, here is just the bit he needs."
Standing before the entwined couple, Yvonne passed the plate to her mistress. The latter carried a bit of the pate to her lips and held them out to Emile who amused himself by nibbling it away and eating it slowly, while his hand dimpled the soubrette's buttocks, placed next to him by Lucie.
The waltz continued, and suddenly the movement became clearer, dragging sweetly, and in the salon unmasked by the picture which had disappeared, the shadow of a dancing couple whirled.
Emile looked within, panting with passion under Lucie's caresses, for her lips, now devoid of pate, never left his. Turning mad under the manipulations of Yvonne, who knelt before her mistress as she caressed his agitated virility, he shivered. Lucie had dropped her head upon his shoulder, touching him lightly on the chest with the point of her breasts. He trembled in fever and delirium, in the contemplation of this goddess' body whose curves ran in fiery lines before his eyes. Then he distinguished the waltzing couple and raised a stupefied cry:
"Lucette, Lucette!"
A naked man and woman, encircled, danced in the unmasked salon, a woman of beauty as splendorous as Lucie's, whom she resembled strikingly, except for her warm brown hair. They danced and they pecked at each other; they danced and their hands ran about in licentious touches. She, the unpitying siren, detached herself an instant, turned graciously before her cavalier, like Salome before Herod, smiling to him, inciting him to possession of her by unequivocal signs.
In his arms, Emile held the almost delirious Lucie in a tight embrace. She had drawn him to the carpet. With gifts inordinate, they leaped in spasms of intoxication, the half of their bodies lost under the table, above their reins, as alternately one was raised above the other, in the displacements occasioned by their struggles. Yvonne bent and lavished her most delectable sucklings, exciting a sexual rage unclaimed by the accomplishment of possession, so that new burst was born which reunited their flesh and plunged the couple again into the sexual act.
Here was a man for the struggle! Emile was possessed of no common forces and he felt his vigor become ten-fold in the unheard-of practices which were taking place about him and the extraordinary woman who drew him into unsuspected gamboling.
Hardly had their arms become unloosed than she entwined him with her body like a veritable serpent, over-exciting him with the movements of her breasts and of her lips. She took him again to her heart and murmured:
"Again, again, you are not tired, and if you doubt yourself, kiss my blood in yours; breathe my breath that's mixed with yours. Our bodies are pure, suck me as I suck you, and your nerves, again strengthened will carry us into the beyond, ah, ah, you understand."
Quick to follow their whims, Yvonne intervened, slipped herself between them, aided to repair disorder by her caresses, her thrusts of the tongue, and received in recompense the touches and passionate suckings of the two in their jousting, uniting themselves again, over the body to pump from it the elements of luxurious madness.
From time to time they rose and returned to the table. All three of them were eating now, for Yvonne had added a place for herself. They drank champagne, and Emile threw himself on his knees and crawled about the two seated women like a tawny animal. He asked them to embrace each other and contemplated them, adored them, kissed them, handled their buttocks, unable to decide to which should go the prize for beauty, and he devoured them with his tongue.
The painting having returned to its place, the salon, in which the waltzers had whirled, had disappeared and the music was no longer heard.
How had he reached the bed, couched between the two women; at what time had this amorous repose terminated, what hour had sounded when he fell asleep? There are voluptuous intoxications in which memory disappears as in those produced by wine.
Emile awoke in his chamber, in his own house.
CHAPTER V
AND THE EMPTINESS which he found on awakening the day before was still more accentuated. He plunged his forehead into his hands and asked himself if he hadn't dreamed it all.
Calling Leonard, he asked, "What time did I come home?"
"Monsieur does not remember?"
"Wouldn't I tell myself, then, animal?"
"Monsieur will not be angry if I tell him?"
"Come now, are you losing your mind, Leonard, my friend? Why should I be angry, since I asked the question?"
"Monsieur was asleep, standing upright against the door, when his ring brought me to answer it."
"I slept standing!"
"It might very well have been six o'clock in the morning. Monsieur fell into my arms when I opened the door. Rosalie and I were very frightened."
"I was alone?"
"Absolutely alone."
"Anything, anything, you didn't see anything?"
"The street was silent except for the sound of a carriage in the distance."
"Ah!"
"Doubtless the carriage which brought Monsieur; Monsieur does not remember?"
"I was sleeping?"
"Extraordinarily. We put Monsieur to bed without his waking. Rosalie wanted to make tea, but I told her not to."
"Tea, but why?"
"I said that sleep was the best of remedies."
"I was ill, then?"
"Monsieur will permit me to give my opinion:
"What a thick idiot you are! Why should I forbid you? Did you think I was dead drunk?"
"Oh, no, Monsieur, but very boiled."
"Get out of here."
If he could not remember the end of the adventure, all the rest emerged, and this rest almost killed him, for in spite of Lucie Steinger's promise, he did not know her address, he knew nothing of her, nor of how he should find her again.
He did not know what to do in this new disturbance of his spirit, unless it was to kill the day sadly, and run to the Moulin-Rouge in the evening!
He did it. The same Glomiret was in the same place, and he accosted him.
"Well, and the adventure?" asked the latter.
"Not banal, but disquieting."
"Danger?"
"A burning memory."
"The devil! And no means to repeat the offense? The lady preserved her incognito?"
"Not exactly, but my memory is upset."
Glomiret looked at Emile with a certain commiseration.
Emile continued, "Was that the first time she was seen in the Moulin-Rouge?"
"No, the second. You are the only one to have gone out with her. Did she fill your program?"
"More than I might have desired."
"Which now obliges you to seek still another woman to cure yourself of the last."
"I could find only one, she whom I wanted to forget."
"My poor friend, crush your memory and take up the chase again; otherwise, you're a ruined man."
"I believe it."
"If your memory continues to bother you, just try again."
"An excellent idea that, and one for which I thank you."
Emile remained at the Moulin-Rouge for an hour, then ran about at other establishments. It was in vain; there was no trace of Lucie Steinger.
Eight days ran by thus, and his attempts to find her again had borne no fruit. On the morning of the ninth day, he received another unsigned letter which he hastened to read .
It was composed thus:
"The Army of the Voluptuous has for its end social renovation by means of the amorous emancipation of women. It is recruited among all people of intelligence and discretion, those, who knowing how to practice abnegation of their wills, admit the usages which unite soldiers and officers of both sexes.
"These usages derive from the cessation of social lines which force the subjection of part of humanity to another part. Man and woman incorporated become brother and sister, husband and wife, without the limit of any personalities other than that of mutual consent.
"Three classes compose the Voluptuous Army:
"First, the Aspirants, the class of affiliation.
"Second, the Army, the class of activity.
"Third, the Assembly, the class of retreat.
"One may be an Aspirant from fifteen to fifty; one belongs to the Army from twenty to forty years; one passes into the Assembly from forty years to the date of his death.
"Every candidate for affiliation pays an initiation fee, and is liable for a monthly assessment."
He was studying the last paragraph, asking himself if there were not some correlation between the receipt of these letters and his adventure with Lucie, when Leonard brought him a telegram.
Lucette de Mongellan reproached him for failing to visit her on Tuesday afternoon and asked him to come and see her that very day.
Immediately, he put aside his correspondence and his papers and regained his happy spirits. Did not the consolation he had sought and found presage his happiness with the coquette Lucette?
Ah, Lucette, Lucette!
The empire held over him by the young woman imposed itself anew. He called at the appointed hour.
"Ah!" he said, entering, "how kind it was of you to think of the poor wretch who fled you!"
"Fled me? And why, my dear?"
"Your cruelty."
"Then why not fix upon one of them?"
"The choice is difficult."
Emile wrinkled his nose in a grimace of disdain.
"Never, never is there any hope."
"If you could only be convinced! Will you admit that the means employed to interest us are old stuff, and that new ones ought to be invented?"
"I do not know what you mean by 'means employed,' but when one has a heart, his senses are over-turned by the love which you inspire, and I feel that the only thing to do is to express it."
"And after that?"
"Try to render you favorable."
"And how do you try to render me favorable?
"Let my cruelty alone, and let us speak seriously. What put it into your head not to come on Tuesday?"
"I told you I was running away from you."
"Are you incorrigible, then?"
"And you always fascinating?"
Oh, Lord! What boobies men are! What do you mean fascinating?"
"Sowing trouble in a poor devil's heart and then not having pity on him."
"One would be ahead of his time to pity all those who pretend to be inflamed by our modest person. Do you think it would be sensible for us to sacrifice ourselves to all these troubles?"
"To all, no."
"But to the particular case which one presents, yes. There are so many of these particular and special cases which recommend themselves to my attention!"
"By meeting me in the salons of our friends, by inviting me to dance, by visiting me on Tuesdays, by declaring to me ceaselessly your flame, by preserving good manners. Empty, empty, all these, my friend, and I merit better than all this pining. I am still the hardiest."
"Oh, as for daring, I would not lack it, but you are always so mocking."
"If mockery stops your passion, then recognize yourself that the love with which you pursue me limps in its obesity. There! Let's drop the subject and tell me what you have done to disappear thus from under my eyes. Twelve days! Have you taken your playing elsewhere?"
He hesitated to reply frankly in the affirmative and to narrate his adventure and the vision of the waltzing couple when he thought he had recognized her. Then he shivered. A piano in the next room was playing the same waltz!
"It is becoming an obsession!" he cried.
"What do you mean, 'an obsession!' That waltz? You are hardly gallant. I thought it might recall the last we had the pleasure of dancing together, when you were in a state -"
"Lucette!"
"I asked my daughter's teacher to play it for me, hoping that it might reinspire the folly which possessed you the other night, so that I might prove to you how good I am."
"You would waltz with me thus, in that light deshabille?"
"To be agreeable to you, my dear, and to save you from yourself, yes."
"Alone, so close together, after -"
"After your exaltation in front of everybody, why not? Will you waltz with me? My boudoir is smaller than the Countess of Boutteville's salons, but we shall not be hindered by other couples."
She stood waiting for him, and the piano continued to make its notes heard. He freed himself from the heady atmosphere that made the blood seethe in his veins, took her about the waist and threw them into the waltz's whirl, holding her closer and closer, and drinking in more and more the fire of her look which now was unchallenging.
They waltzed, a fantastic couple, in this boudoir bathed in a half-obscurity, and soon they formed but a single being, with two heads, drawing closer, closer.
The girl's supple waist gave under his arm, her body little by little glued itself to his, as it had the other evening. He felt the trembling of her flesh little dissimulated by the feeble barrier of peignoir and chemise. He saw her breath come faster, felt her leg mingling with his, he was stifled.
"My dear, my dear," she murmured, "will you never understand me?"
Instantly, he stopped, fell to his knees, and mad with sensuality, passed his head under the peignoir and pulled up Lucette's skirts with a feverish hand.
His lips ran straight to the triangle and sought its apex in a long kiss. His hands seized her buttocks, and she did not resist.
With a quick movement, she rid herself of the peignoir, drew off her chemise, kicked off her mules and offered herself naked to his ravished eyes.
"Lucette, Lucette, how beautiful you are!"
"Did you think I wasn't, you bad boy?"
"Brilliant splendour, light of my life, heavenly poem, you have pity!"
"Do not devour me with so many caresses, but let us sit here and talk."
"Sit, talk, with you thus!"
"Is your modesty alarmed?"
"My modesty! Ah, but wait, until I am like you!"
"You would dare, my dear?"
"Isn't it a command from your irresistible beauty?"
"Ah, my irresistible beauty? But will it keep you from running to bad places. You menace me with that!"
These words evoked the memory of Lucie. On his knees he undressed himself, while his kisses uninterruptedly gratified Lucette's hips and thighs; he suspended his undressing and his kisses, and clasping the girl about her legs, he asked:
"Lucette, one has strange dreams in those bad places!"
"Dreams!"
"I saw you naked dancing with another man."
"I, I, are you losing your mind?"
"You, or someone who resembled you to the life! And although the vision only passed for a second under my eyes, the woman, which was you, possessed the same little mole below her left calf."
"You dreamed that!"
"Did I dream it?"
"Then, get up, Monsieur, and stop this business. I have been too good and already I begin to repent."
"Lucette!"
"Well, you pretend to be mad with love, and at the very moment that I give myself up to your eyes, you tell me idiotic stories in which you accuse me of dancing naked before your eyes with another man!"
"I did not accuse you, terrible Lucette, I spoke to you of my vision."
"Your vision is gone."
"No it isn't! You are as beautiful as you were then."
"And you abandoned me to another man!"
He held her with his arm around her body, kissed her navel, prevented her escape, although she tried it only as a matter of form, and did not know what reply to make to her exclamation. She added:
"And you, what were you doing during this curious vision?"
"I - I -"
"You were consoling yourself with another woman, some female bat, picked up at the Jardin de Paris, at the Moulin-Rouge, at the American, weren't you? Answer me!"
"I was caressing another woman, one who resembled you, one with hair of a Titian blonde, taller than you."
"Ah, my dear, my dear, it was time I had pity; you were running the risk of losing your reason. My resemblance everywhere! But, but, you are not badly constructed! And this, did it weep very much at the ball?"
"Sobbed, my adored, sobbed, an inundation!"
"Did you really have the sensation?"
"I'd have had to be of wood not to experience it."
"And only because you felt me through my dress!"
"I divined your splendour."
"Ah! And now, if we waltzed together!"
"No, there is better!"
"I do not wish for better yet."
"The piano is no longer playing."
"It is going to play."
She clasped her hands and the waltz resumed; she threw herself into his arms to be carried away by the deliriating whirl. She held his tail in her own hand, in a state of undescribable erection, while he crushed her bung under the compression of his clutching fingers. Suddenly she understood that he was mad with passion, let herself fall upon her back and held out her arms to him. They tasted the supreme ecstasy in the last measures of the waltz, slowing, sweetening, as if the pianist assisted in the intensity of their passionate spell.
CHAPTER VI
AND WAS HIS SOUL steeped in happiness when he went home, this mad lover of Lucette, the coquette?
The human machine has unexpected upsets of passion and sentiment.
The possession of Lucette finally obtained, he had, as they exchanged kisses, envisioned an evening with Lucie and distance made a golden aureole about her. It seemed to him that her caresses exerted a greater influence over his nerves, that her body twisted itself with greater attraction, and he let fall from his lips a cry, "Lucie, Lucie!"
Lucette had been self-contained! She had given herself, but passion drawing her to itself, she had turned the pleasure into a personal transport, lending the male only her vigor without returning that grateful langour which unites soul to voluptuousness.
Emile did not perceive this nuance. Rather he experienced the counter-effect of it in the depression which succeeded his great over-excitation, and in the haziness of his mind which seized him brusquely again.
He remained the most sincere admirer of feminine beauty, to which was added a little vanity for his newly-acquired mistress. But the image of Lucie contested victoriously with that of Lucette in this hour of satisfied pleasure. The consolation he had sought had become the anguishing obsession of the morrow, by the memory of valiant passions, those passions which had so well resuscitated his strength.
The last spasm ended, their lips separated in a last caress. Lucette led Emile into a dressing-room nearby, where she left him to go dress herself in her own boudoir. She returned refreshed and smart in another tea-gown.
"And you will love me always, won't you?" she murmured, pressing herself against him.
"Always," he replied, his eye distraught.
She smiled and added, mutinously, "Now you will no longer sacrifice to Venus in your trousers, or in bad places, my sweet, sweet lover!"
"I shall think always of that exquisite moment."
They exchanged a few more banalities, and he left.
He had just opened his door, when his valet came to him and said, "A lady was here asking for Monsieur."
"A Lady!"
"Yes, and very well-dressed."
"Did she leave a card?"
"She came in and wrote a word for Monsieur."
"Give it to me quickly, animal."
"It is on Monsieur's desk, with a journal which she left in an armchair."
"She forgot a journal?"
"Yes, Monsieur. It has her name on the wrap-per.
"You read the name, you curious fool?"
"To bring it to you, if Monsieur thought it necessary."
Emile rushed to his study and closed the door so that he might read at his ease the letter which he presumed to be from Lucie. He was not mistaken.
She wrote: "What, my dear, I come to your house and do not find you in? But you must have been angry with me and so first I must ask your pardon. Oh, how well I sleep after the exhibition of your prowess!
"Do you know, Monsieur, that I am mad, mad, mad with love for you and that I wish nothing anymore but that you should come and see again she whom you sought for consolation. But no! Say that mine is all your love, mine are all your transports! God, how well you know how to embrace and to caress! And, tell me, I, was I able to satisfy you? Were you very happy? Every day I speak of you to Yvonne who insists that there are few men like you. Ah, but I kiss her every time she repeats it to me.
"But I chatter on and do not know if you will pardon me for not having told you where to find me. If the adventure pleased you as it pleased me, we shall see each other often, though not as often, alas, as my heart might wish.
"Yes, the adventure pleased you. Your Lucie, who has read your papers and who has no excuse to make for it, has divined your desires and shares them.
"I was away from Paris. That is why you did not hear from me, and in our delirium, I omitted to tell you how we should write and see each other again. Address your letters to the Rue de Varennes, where I have an apartment. I took you to our villa where I live and where they bring me my correspondence every day.
"We shall see each other twice a week, and tomorrow, if you will. I shall meet you at five o'clock at the Muette, so that we may dine together and have more time to ourselves. If you cannot come, telegraph me at the address below.
"Your Lucie."
The next day! It was Lucette's Tuesday, and five o'clock, just the time I usually presented myself. He felt a moral uneasiness. His mundane conscience, which had never left him, whispered that it would be rather unsuitable to miss his visit to Lucette, the day after he had possessed her. But Lucie dominated him utterly.
"I shall write some excuse to Lucette," he said to himself, "and rejoin Lucie."
Then he picked up the forgotten journal and read on the band:
"To Monsieur the Count of - Ambassador to -"
"The devil!" he said. "We're dealing with high diplomacy."
He unfolded the page entitled "Social Revue" and saw that it contained an account of all the receptions in Paris and the provinces.
An underlined section drew his attention, and he read:
"Bordeaux - The social event of the week was the fete given by the Duke and Duchess de Montsicourt, which gave us occasion to applaud the young and commanding talent of their cousin, Madame Lucie Steinger, whose beauty and grace are the talk of Europe. The ovation which saluted the incomparable pianist proves that art is not the sole property of professional artists and that it also belongs to our society beauties. We understand that Mme. Steinger has consented to play at a soiree for the benefit of the poor. All Bordeaux will consider it an honour to applaud her while at the same time it contributes to a work of charity."
"Cousin to the Duke of Montsicourt, musician, pianist, she, Lucie, an evening's chance acquaintance at the Moulin-Rouge. Ah, but there are mysteries in this life! I shall return her journal tomorrow."
The morning of the next day, he received a new manifesto, more specific and thus composed:
"Army of the Voluptuous.
"Affiliation permits the candidate to remove from his personality the errors and prejudices heretofore admitted.
"Love and its pleasures create the base for the Army of the Voluptuous. During affiliation, one learns the rites and customs which reunite soldiers and officers as well as signs and insignia which permit one to make himself known in Paris, in France and abroad.
"As soon as one has learned the salutes and the ceremonies, one is registered in a company under a captain where he is instructed for the fetes and advantages of the Army, in the midst of suggested or imagined pleasures.
"To be a candidate for affiliation, make the following request:
"I, -- the undersigned solicit engagement with the Voluptuous Army, and am ready to accept its duties and charges, to submit myself to its regulations and its discipline, and to offer it all my devotion.
Date and signature.
"Address this demand to Lieutenant Yvonne Louzere, under double envelope, the first for the post bearing this inscription: Monsieur the Abbe Rectal, pensioner of Saint-Yves College, Rue Le-courb."
"Yvonne Louzere," murmured Emile. "Yvonne. Why, Lucie's maid is called Yvonne. And this time, an address, Abbe Rectal! What does this business mean?"
He remained perplexed as he perused the paper under his eyes.
Was this some pleasantry with which somebody was amusing himself at his expense? Was it a wager between bold and intelligent women? Was it a new school of thought pursuing its development in the form of a secret society? Was it a reality?
In the latter case, what did they want of him? To enroll him? Why? Did they imagine he would consent to lend himself to what were doubtless very immoral acts as must be the rites of the association?
This idea of immoral acts revived the memory of the night passed with Lucie and Yvonne. Never until that night had he engaged in the sharing of amorous voluptuousness by three persons.
He certainly did not pose like the peasant Beranger, crying up severe customs and proscribing as abominable satisfactions of the senses. He simply had not believed that for more than two lovers, there would be any possible sensations of pleasure! He considered the contact of one woman with another sickening, and he scored this contact in lively terms, as a man would. He thought that in the union of sexes the possessive act, calming the thirst of rutting, sufficed to content the most luxurious.
But, Lucette had torn him to shreds with her knowledge of coquetteries. She had awakened his carnal famine by her suggestive images of nakedness. He had caressed dreamy contemplation and from this was born the desire for contacts made more agreeable by pauses for admiration, as lips ran here and there over the loved one's body.
It brought about a complete revolution in him. What he had before considered as contemptible and low took on the colour of divine reflections. He envisioned Lucette's beauties and felt them throb through his being, to the point where no dreams would satisfy him.
Mad with erotic passion, trying to escape from a torturing obsession, he met Lucie and she converted him, the first evening to the amorous trio. From this trio, accepted quite naturally and without the intervention of reflection, so much sensual delirium had come that he had left it quite another man, perceiving woman with her marvelous resources as an inspiration to felicity.
He saw a new religion point to future times, the religion of Love, in which, mistress of her body and of Love, woman, priestess of the temple, would direct progress and civilization by means of arts worshipping her beauty and her intoxications.
Was the Voluptuous Army marching to the conquest of this new world, and was Lieutenant Yvonne to be confused with Yvonne, Lucie's soubrette? He would soon know.
CHAPTER VII
HE WAS WALKING IN RAPHAEL ALLEY at the Muette, when Lucie arrived in her carriage at the given hour. Without having said so expressly, the two lovers had both thought of this alley for their meeting.
She made a place for him next to her, and they turned toward the Bois de Boulogne.
"A drive before dinner," she said, holding out her hand to him, "for you and I are dining together in private; then, the evening, the night to ourselves, under conditions which you shall fix yourself."
She was alone, and still prettier, still more ravishing than the other night, her eyes lightly made up and greatly heightening her gracious and smiling face and imprinting a maddening savor of all bodily promises. She was admirably dressed in a fresh spring frock in the best mode and made by one of those Parisian artists who, in woman's costume, know how to enhance the personality with all its delicacies and superiorities.
"Is it still possible to live a dream such as last week's!" he said.
"The star lacks her satellite, my dear. Is he going to miss her?"
"The star shines on my heart. What does the satellite matter?"
"Bravo! We shall amuse ourselves frankly then. Myself, I love Love and its pleasures. You have seen that I am not an elegiac and as for sentimentality, if I admit it, I use it only as hors-d'oeuvres. Have you thought about our night?"
"How could I have done otherwise, with such an inexplicable ending to the adventure? For I didn't know how we left each other. Was I drunk with love or wine? Was I mastered by Nature? My departure remains a mystery."
"Poor dear heart! Oh, what a sleep, and how much right would I have had to take offence, if I had not been the cause of it. Adored one, you suddenly fell asleep in my arms, your lips on my lips, and I felt that our souls were going to throw themselves into the infinity of space to find new felicities. Even I myself was drowsing; Yvonne lay, her head on your thighs, but not asleep. She noticed that you were sinking, she slid up next to me, shook me, and seeing you plunged in sleep, the same thought came to us both, that of remaining in your memory as a dream. How we managed, I do not know. With much difficulty we dressed you. As I have a carriage always at my call, I rang, and they carried you under the surveillance of Yvonne to your home."
"I was standing against my door; I might have hurt myself."
"Impossible. One of my servants was holding you up and you maintained your position very well, anyway, all alone."
"My valet didn't see anyone."
"Your valet is an ass! Beside your hotel, near your door, there is concealing wall. He hid there when he heard the steps of someone coming to open; he watched. Are you angry with me for the trick?"
"No, but I could not explain my return. What a strange sleep!"
"Ah, but you earned it! What valiance, Monsieur, to return so unceasingly to the assault."
"What energy to sustain it!"
My poor thighs were bruised for three days, and my back was broken. Did I inspire you more? Myself or Yvonne?"
"About Yvonne, a very curious thing has happened."
"Speak quickly. Yvonne is implicated in our night and if she had not been engaged in the management of my little personal empire, she would have come with joy. You say about Yvonne. You couldn't have seen her. She was absent with me."
"Quite so. You forgot a journal, this one, and I took the liberty."
"Of reading it! You have done well. You wanted to learn about my reading while you were thinking of your Lucie. That deserves a caress; only for now; I shall ask for more."
"I should want more and more."
"Quick, a little kiss on this corner of my cheek."
"Surely, but with a slide."
"A slide?"
"To the lips."
"No, not yet! I am so warm, you know, and we would not wait. Oh, the good, sweet little kiss!"
"Lucie, Lucie, I am beginning to stifle!"
"Already! Patience, Monsieur. Come, push your hand where you will to calm your thirst, and let us return to our conversation. You read the journal? No, no, don't take your hand away. You see I am prepared to help you; I didn't wear my drawers. Caress sweetly, gently, and do not drive me mad. Then you know that I played the piano at a concert."
"I did not know of this talent."
"Ah, dearie, I am stuffed with talents!"
She broke into laughter, spreading her legs to satisfy him in his pilgrimage, and, her eyes moist with passion added:
"Oh, but I love you! The concert was a great success. I assure you my vanity was as much flattered by it as by compliments addressed to my beauty."
"And they shouldn't be lacking."
"I have nothing to complain of."
"And for love, Lucie?"
His voice betrayed his anguish. She removed his hand from beneath her skirts, leaned on his shoulder and murmured:
"Tell me, are you jealous?"
"You produce such an effect on me that I am afraid."
"Fear, darling, oh, how wrong you would be! I am happy to be with you, to love you, to inspire you to pleasure; I have shared my pleasure with Yvonne. What use is it to search beyond that! Besides, remember the cause of our meeting! You were trying to forget, you were in love then. You love me now; tomorrow you will love someone else, perhaps you have already loved another, perhaps possessed her whom you tried to forget in my arms by which you were emboldened to attack, and if you have, I excuse you."
"Oh, woman, woman, you do not know your strength! You ask me that! You want to bind all my being. Your eyes nail me a slave to your will. Your smile takes away all power from my individuality. I am in your hands like a plaything awaiting your pleasure, and you do not want me to be frightened at the thought that if you love me and love another, life will be destroyed, because in my sky, the star that you represent will sparkle but with intermittent fires."
"You big booby! A woman is beautiful; beautiful, she likes people to notice it, to tell her so, and she is moved to pity for the desires her beauty has raised. One may be good without wounding a lover's susceptibilities. Have you thought of her whom you wanted to forget?"
"Yes, and I went to her to forget you as I came to you to chase her from my heart."
"And what happened?"
"She gave herself."
"You took her!"
The exclamation denoted surprise or disquiet, perhaps both. Almost immediately, however, she added, "Bravo! You're a man. When a woman is pretty, a man ought to take her. Our conversation is disjointed. What were you telling me about Yvonne?"
She changed the subject and left his shoulder, upon which she had been leaning, settling in her corner, studying him.
He profited from her position to send his hand beneath her skirts again, trying to pull them up.
"You little devil!" she cried. "If you try to see, there are other eyes than yours which will profit by the opportunity."
He stopped. The blind separating them from the coachman had not been pulled down. He hesitated and she smiled and said:
"Lower it and be prudent. Then, answer me."
The blind lowered, he sent his hand under her skirts again and pulled them over his knees. Mockingly, she said:
"You shan't see so very much more than my stockings, curious! Do you like them? Well, I shall have pity. Here is a little bit of flesh. Go higher, you're wrinkling my dress. It wouldn't matter if we were in my apartment. But we are in the Bois, and we are going to get out of the carriage and you would not have me shamefully rumpled. No, no, don't go away, but be careful. You are saying that Yvonne -"
"I am not sure that it concerns our Yvonne, but I received this paper today. It's the third note of its kind that has been sent to me."
Lucie read the paper, handed it back and replied: "It does concern our Yvonne."
"Ah!"
"And if you want to write, there is no necessity for you to send your letter to the Abbe Rectal. You may give it directly to Yvonne, or I will give it to her."
They had returned to a normal position. A wave of thoughts assailed Emile. He bent forward and said:
"And you, do you belong to this Army of the Voluptuous?"
"I cannot tell you. If the knowledge comes to you, it will come by the efforts of your will and not through any of the persons who surround you."
"Lucie, Lucie, you put love in my heart, you spill passion in my blood. What are you for me? What am I for you?"
"To you, I shall be a mistress such as no lover has ever dreamed of, if you will only try to understand me. To me, you are a lover my heart is seeking to know. Take love in my arms, take the sensual intoxication I have unveiled to you, dominate your past and contemplate, no longer individuality in love, but sex in its entirety."
"I love you and I want you. I see nothing after you. Counsel me."
"What have they written to you? They ask that you solicit enlistment in the Voluptuous Army. If you want to learn, why don't you contract this engagement?"
"Where will it take me?"
"Certainly not farther than you wish to go yourself."
"May one ever know what the simplest act is going to cost him in boredom and disagreements?"
"Ennui and disagreements menace only those who lack will and energy."
"You may not speak to me of this Army to which she whom you presented as your maid belongs as a lieutenant. How does she reconcile these two functions, if you do not at least give your consent?"
"Ah, sorry brain of man which, in the hour vowed to passion, throws away all on the slightest provocation! Come, let us get our and walk, the path is solitary. You will dream of our night and come back to me."
"Return to you! But there is no need for that. If anything interests me about this Army of the Voluptuous, it is to discover the role you play."
"Mine, if I have one! And why not seek rather the role of her whom you wanted to forget?"
A flash of light went through Emile's mind, but it did not last long. He replied, "Lucette. But what has it to do with her?"
"Lucette, yes, as you told me. Lucette is like one of my sisters."
"One of your sisters is called Lucette? And her other name?"
"Lucette de Mongellan."
"She!"
She put her hand on his shoulder and, her eyes in his eyes, said, "You wanted to forget my sister Lucette, and you sought forgetfulness in my love!"
The carriage had stopped on Lucie's command. They descended and walked side by side.
She continued, "My dear, follow my advice, seek enlistment in the Voluptuous Army. For your future, this Army represents the Tree of Good and Evil. You shall pick the divine fruits from it, fruits which will form your character."
"Your words hide bitterness, Lucie."
"Bitterness! Life is too short for that. Tell me of your amours with the beautiful Lucette."
"Less beautiful than you are."
"And you had her after you had me! The resemblance ought to have hindered you."
"It was that resemblance which drew me to love you."
"Then having possessed it in my person, you had no need to taste another experience."
"You are angry; you are jealous; you see now that there exists something besides voluptuous pleasure between the two sexes."
"Drop that, my dear, and don't lose yourself in false hypotheses. Let us stick to the subject."
"For me, there is only one, you."
'Thank you. But now, the Army of the Voluptuous has brought us farther than we supposed and becomes of first importance. You must enlist."
"I?"
"To please me."
"You belong?"
"Yes."
"In what capacity?"
"You will learn. I cannot reveal myself to an unbeliever."
"What do you call an unbeliever?"
"All who are not of the Army, who are outside the temple."
"Army, temple!"
"Decide. If you accept, I shall take you immediately to the company in which Yvonne serves. You will sign your enlistment there and I shall have no secrets from you."
"Take me there. You will instruct me in a few obscurities on the way."
Back in the carriage, Lucie gave a certain address in Neuilly. A sort of gravity reigned between the two lovers.
Finally, Emile asked: "What is the Voluptuous Army?"
"The Association of all with courage, intelligence, free will, of all who see, in the triumph of love, the end of those evils which desolate humanity."
"Good in theory, but in practice?"
"Men and women are brothers and sisters, all united in the pleasures of the Voluptuous, all ready to sacrifice individuals to others."
"Possible in dreams, absurd in reality."
"That's an error!"
"Hatreds and jealousies shall never be extinguished in the human heart."
"They are extinguished in affiliation."
"Affiliation!"
"Enlisted, one enters a group headed by a captain, and in this group amorous pleasures are exchanged, regulated in such a manner that it becomes habitual to consider woman's freedom, to respect that freedom, and not to be irritated by the happiness she gives elsewhere. For the rest, you shall judge it for yourself."
"I shall belong to a group?"
"You must, but the groups are arranged like the social classes and you shall be among the aristocracy."
"With you, perhaps."
"I cannot answer you on that point. Question me without mixing in personalities."
"How are the soldiers and officers organized?"
"The best way in the world. The men have women for officers, and the women have men."
"That's messy."
"It is harmony! The Voluptuous Army is not an army similar to those who kill each other on the fields of battle. It is a big family in which interests and passions are fused, and one rises by natural superiority. There are almost as many officers as soldiers, if the periods of affiliation do not contain the great part of the enrolled couples. One may become an officer immediately upon enrollment, by buying his grade."
"There is injustice!"
"There is equilibrium. You pay a hundred thousand francs to buy a captaincy, and receive an annual salary of fifteen hundred. Every captain elevated by the purchase of his commission elects another captain from the ranks, who profits by the pay and takes care of the work occasioned by the Army. Ah, we approach. Now, a few details for the moment when you have signed your enlistment. I am taking you to Yvonne whom you are going to find in her lieutenant's uniform, and she will receive us by herself. From the moment you have enlisted, you become affiliated and a little soldier. You owe the lieutenant a salute."
"Military?"
"The voluptuous salute."
"Ah!"
"You place your hand on your heart, she bows, turns, pulls up her skirts, and you kiss her buttocks. And you are to execute this salute with the captain to whom she will present you. Here we are."
CHAPTER VIII
THE CARRIAGE STOPPED before a vast hotel enclosed by a grill. Lucie and Emile approached and the door opened. They entered a vestibule where they found themselves in the presence of two young men about thirty years of age, costumed entirely in grey, with a daisy in their buttonholes, and two young women, about twenty years of age, dressed, in the same grey material, but fashioned like the costume of bicyclists, ample trousers with a vest, black boots tight about the ankles; they also wore daisies.
Lucie did not say a word, but raised her hand in a gesture of salute. The two couples bowed and one of the young men cried, upon perceiving Emile:
"You, you, Lodenbach!"
Astonished, the latter turned, and his visage again composed, replied holding out his hand:
"De Mauverlin!"
"You know each other?" asked Lucie.
"College friends," replied de Mauverlin, watching Lucie who gave him a sign by putting her finger on her lips without affection.
"You shall find each other again," she murmured.
She drew Emile toward a door in the rear, followed a gallery and they entered a salon where they found a lady seated in a corner, at her desk.
Yvonne, costumed like the two women in the vestibule, but with a gold band about her waist and in short skirts, wore not the Zouave costume the others had worn. This skirt fell over red stockings with gold stitching, as she wrote at her desk. She rose.
"You," she said.
"Darling, somebody sent Emile a prospectus, and he asked me about it. Give us a form. He will sign it."
"Oh, willingly."
From a drawer, she took what was necessary and made him a sign with her eye.
"Come, approach, sign quickly."
His hand did not tremble as he signed. Yvonne placed herself in the center of the salon and he executed the salute indicated by Lucie. The beautiful lieutenant turned to present her bung to him upon which he placed a warm kiss. He heard a rustling of skirts nearby, looked and saw Lucie offering him her own. He threw himself forward and a hot caress enveloped him in its contours.
The skirts fell.
"Is the captain here?" asked Lucie.
"Yes, I'll call her."
"Yes, I want to speak to her."
Yvonne opened a door and said, "The temple is in joy."
"A lamb enters the fold," replied a voice which was young and well-timbered.
Another woman appeared now in the same dress Yvonne wore with a golden cord hanging from each shoulder.
Emile's eyes met hers. They exchanged the voluptuous salute and seized each others hands, as the captain cried:
"And I'm not dreaming. Is it you, Lodenbach?"
"That is forbidden in the Voluptuous Army," observed Lucie, gravely.
"Oh, pardon, pardon," murmured the captain, "embrace me, Emile, that I may be pardoned."
"That you may be pardoned, countess?"
"There are no titles other than the hierarchic grades in our army," added Lucie. "Countess Heloise de Bouteville is Captain de Bouteville here. You are in known country; that in itself will dissipate your fears."
"Fears," asked Heloise, who was blonde and had bold and prying eyes, "fears, in thinking no longer of anything but the pleasures of love?"
"Very dangerous pleasures in association, from my point of view," said Emile.
"For fools and the timid, not for the intelligent and the resolute. I am truly happy to receive you. You will belong to my Company?"
"I do not know."
"Enroll here. There's an opening. I shall put you in a group where you'll make rapid strides."
"Let it go for now," interrupted Lucie. "Have you obligatory service to do, or can you come with us to dine and pass the night?"
"I'm with you. Yvonne can take care of everything. I shall put on my street-dress and we'll go."
"In that case, we shall go with you."
They followed her into an adjoining room, larger than the preceding, with a divan extending the length of one of its walls. The countess in no time at all, removed her bodice and skirts and remained in her chemise. Her breasts swelled under the garment. Lucie felt them and said to Emile:
"It is a pleasure to honor them. Profit by the occasion before they disappear."
"They are still too veiled."
"That hinders you!" cried Heloise. "Come, then, look at them and look at me."
The chemise fell to her feet and, quite naked, she smiled to the new soldier of the Voluptuous.
He hastened to kiss and caress her breasts and went into ecstasies over the blonde triangle which enhanced the lower part of her white belly.
"Let me kiss it," asked Lucie.
"I too can feel what is going on in your spirit. I would be wrong to oppose you."
"Good! Good! You're learning! You know, I love her very much. She is my good friend in the Army and I urge her as she urges my little Yvonne."
"But what are you in this Army, Lucie?"
"Tell him, Heloise."
"Lieutenant-General of the troops of Paris."
"Lieutenant-General!"
Heloise sweetly lent him her breasts to suck and still more sweetly offered her bung to his pilgrimage. He saw her mistress, Lucie, dart her fine rosy tongue between the captain's thighs. He sighed and Lucie turned, opened his trousers and kissed the tip of his tail.
Heloise drew away and asked, "Do you want him before we go, or must he wait?"
"I think he's waited long enough. Come, help me remove these skirts. He's going to take me, but only once, you understand, Emile, and we shall go."
"Oh, my Lucie, my Lucie, you consent," he cried, returning immediately to the young woman and aiding the countess to disembarrass her of her dress. "I shall obey you in everything, yes, yes, once, only, oh, it is heaven."
"Dress yourself, Heloise, and don't watch us."
"Not to look at you would seem too stupid to me. You seem so much in love with each other, and your unity belongs to the legendary if I may judge by the valiance of your dispositions. Oh, how beautiful you are, seen thus! What a pity you are not entirely naked. Your clothing covers too much."
Emile had carried Lucie to the divan and drawn her into his arms as they enjoyed close, mutual possession.
Their lips were close; their hands pressed with the same ardor; the orgasm carried them away. Heloise rang and made a sign to Yvonne who entered. A naked man came in then, whom she called and rolled on the carpet in his arms.
Emile and Lucie gave no heed to any but each other. They were unable to tear themselves from their ecstasy, in spite of their will.
Sight of them made Heloise and her companion kiss each other in transports imitative of theirs. Only caresses and sighs could be heard; no one spoke, and on the door-sill, Yvonne, upset, had rolled up her skirts and was handling her clitoris, when a tail ran between her buttocks and pushed her face forward.
She did not remove her clothing but fell upon her knees, skirts up to the middle of her back, as into her bung, de Mauverlin pointed his tail.
The folly raged; that which happened may be suspected.
Several persons appeared, women for the most part. They were agitated by trembling and played with each other or gave themselves to the cavaliers who were present.
Lucie threw herself farther and farther back, her little feet placed on Emile's shoulders. She showed him all her thighs and her belly, calling for the engulfment of his tail. He threw himself upon her. She squirmed and pressed him tenderly to her a last time and said:
"Oh, enough, enough, the hour has not come, yes, yes, finish, play, my love. They are playing all about us, finish, finish well, and then let us think of going."
He could not control himself, but he submitted. The two revellers turned and for a second contemplated the gambols of those who surrounded them. Then they too stopped, and Lucie addressed herself to the circle which had formed about the door:
"Sisters and brothers, the General will accord this joy of love to the temple in recompense to officers and soldiers for the voluptuousness she has experienced in this Company."
"Hurrah for General Lucie!"
She remained seated upon the divan, her thighs uncovered. Heloise and her cavalier rose. Yvonne remained bent over, her head in her arms and her bung in the air into and out of which de Mauverlin's tail could be seen slipping, in a paroxysm of erection, pushing with tremendous force at this plump and superb bung which twisted, rose and fell with the course of desire.
His arm about Lucie's waist, Emile, his eyes fixed on the spectacle, lost none of the vicissitudes of this assault which affected his nerves and revived his ardor which Lucie's pretty hand could not extinguish, shake his tail as she did.
De Mauverin finally reached the ultimate experience and threw himself over the lieutenant's hips. Under him, she fingered herself and their transports united them in the same felicity.
"A new victory of Love," cried Lucie. "Put the post under arms that we may review the officers going to the dressing-room."
She threw her chemise over her arm, uncovering her legs and said to Emile, "Accompany me."
Following them were Heloise and her cavalier whose hand Emile shook vigorously and who was none other than Count Mathieu de Boutteville, Heloise's husband. Yvonne and de Mauverlin brought up the rear.
One of the women who had been upon the threshold of the door when the cry "To arms" was raised, preceded the cortege, which soon arrived at the top of a flight of stairs where, in two ranks, were arranged a dozen women, their bodices undone, each holding one of her breasts in one hand, and as many cavaliers behind them, each with a hand on their buttocks, through their skirts.
Passing before the two ranks, Lucie executed a movement from right to left with the end of her chemise which she had taken in her hand. She turned about, uncovering her navel and having placed her little finger upon it, she said:
"Glory to your beauty and to your valiance, brothers and sisters. This is proud to be yours."
The women fell upon one knee; the men took out their tails which they held above the heads of the women, and a murmur replied:
"Glory and prosperity to the Voluptuous Army!"
Each kneeling woman seized a tail in her hand. Lucie executed an about-face, presenting her bung, and said:
"To the third couple, the salute."
The cavalier of this couple assisted his lady to rise and approach, giving a blow with his tail between Lucie's buttocks, while the lady, kneeling before Emile, rubbed the end of his gland with her breasts.
Face to face now, the cavalier with Lucie, the lady with Emile, they exchanged kisses and returned to their place.
The same ceremony was repeated with the Count and Countess de Boutteville, with de Mauverlin and Yvonne.
The three couples then entered an immense dressing-room, furnished with all that was necessary.
Lucie shone among her friends. She busied herself with the repair of her disorder as they occupied themselves to one side. She read surprise in Emile's glances, surprise in which was mingled no longer anything of disbelief, but a live curiosity and a still more strongly marked admiration toward her.
Wheedling, she threw him many an amorous glance witnessing the extent to which she shared the sentiment and passion he was showing her. Hiding nothing of the love she felt in this home of the voluptuous, she murmured:
"We shall leave soon, darling, to recommence a new, festival night that shall be like our first."
"You are taking Heloise," said Mathieu who was in love with his wife and who, like her, was a captain in the same section of the Army.
"I am taking her to enchain our new brother by our united seductions."
"With two such sirens, our brave Lodenbach must admit himself vanquished."
"Conquered!" exclaimed Emile. "The devil take me if I expected such a dream. Conquered! Why strength bursts my lungs! But you and the Countess are officers? You, Mathieu, a captain you, the model of husbands, you let your wife run about so?"
"With Lucie and you, with the others of the Army! We are no longer anything but an immense family fusing passions and interests for the common happiness."
"The presence of both of you in the Army of the Voluptuous throws light upon many things."
"You are going astray, Lodenbach. Our action counts for nothing toward what is coming to you."
"You know, I met Lucie the day after your soiree."
"That proves nothing. There were many at our ball, and you distinguished yourself by the assiduous court you paid to one of our waltzers."
"Lucette!"
Lucie put her hand on his mouth and interrupted:
"We are ready. Let us dress and go."
CHAPTER IX
HELOISE DE BOUTTEVILLE, in a dress hardly less elegant than Lucie's mounted with her friend and Emile into the carriage, and they left the house.
"Now," said Lucie, "we are but two amorous women, desirous of giving you the intoxication of the voluptuous and of sharing it. Where shall we dine?"
"If you like," said Heloise, "we can go to a cabaret in the Bois which I know and where I have reserved a private dining-room for my whims. We shall be as free as birds on the branch."
"A cabaret!"
"A tavern beside the water, that is to say, on the road which runs along the Seine. The cabaret of the Jeunes Chats, I call its sign-board to your notice, kept by a gay lady, La Gadaille, Melanie Gadaille."
"She won't have anything to serve us unless the place is frequented and then -"
"In twenty minutes she can contrive a repast. She has two boys and a maid who help her. The cabaret's customers are fishermen and tourists."
"And you have a room of your own there?"
"Arranged according to my direction."
"You indulge in escapades?"
"Sometimes."
"Let's go to the Jeunes Chats; it's the nearest place."
They gave the order to the coachman and the carriage started.
Emile, seated across from the two women, seemed lost in dreams. Lucie gave him a love tap on the fingers.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked.
"Of love, my love."
"Really?"
"Could it be otherwise?"
"Prove it."
"Eh?"
"The proof, my dear. You can, Polycarpe won't see it."
"Polycarpe!"
"The coachman. I forgot to present him; excuse me."
"Is he a member, by any chance?"
"Like all my servants; but reassure yourself, they belong to the section of the auxiliaries and have nothing to demand of their chiefs."
"Ouf!"
"Oh, the idiot, to think! But still, you haven't shown it."
Heloise's eyes smiled like Lucie's. Emile unbuttoned and exhibited his tail in the stiffness of erection.
Lucie clapped her hands and exclaimed: "Oh, this terrible man, he's always at 'Port arms.'
Touch it, Heloise; it's like iron, always like iron:
"Excuse my glove," replied the latter, feeling Emile's tail.
"If you had been Lucette's husband," continued Lucie, "she wouldn't have been able to absorb you the way she did the late de Mongellan."
"May we speak of Lucette?" asked Emile.
"No," replied Lucie dryly. "Let's speak of ourselves. Ah, my love, don't think there is jealousy among us! I am content that Heloise should have touched you. Heloise is my friend; I love her; she loves me. You shall be still more happy than you were with Yvonne. You saw how pretty she was, naked?"
"May I put my object away?"
"Wait. There's nobody on the road, is there? Good. A kiss from each, then. Eh, Heloise? Then you may put it away."
"I want whatever you do," replied the latter.
Lucie leaned over and planted a kiss on the gland, then rose and her friend executed the same act without affectation. All resumed its former order.
"You have seen," said Emile, "my proof. I would see you again with pleasure, and it would be very, very delectable to compare."
"Compare what?"
"Your beautiful thighs and your hair."
"Oh, the little devil who wants to make comparisons! Shall we let him, Heloise?"
"It isn't very convenient."
"Bah, by pulling up our skirts, he can look between our legs, and he will determine. He deserves it."
"Let's go, then."
The skirts rustled, but in spite of all their efforts, the two women showed hardly more than the angle of their inner thighs with the ensemble of their legs, the bellies disappearing under folds in the dresses.
"If we were better installed," said Emile, "I would take you both, one after the other."
"And he could too!" cried Lucie, dropping her skirts.
"I would take away part of your share," said Heloise.
"There's enough for both of us. What rules do you follow, Emile, to be strong?"
"I love woman, and I love women."
"Our raison d'etre in the Voluptuous Army."
"The cabaret of the Jeunes Chats," cried Heloise. "We have arrived."
The carriage had stopped. They jumped to the ground and before replying to a large and fat woman about forty years old who, fresh and gracious, advanced over the threshold of her door to welcome them, Lucie and Emile looked at the painting which served as a sign-board.
Two young cats amused themselves by running after a ball, and, to one side, three others stopped before a fourth which was standing upright, one paw on the lower part of its belly, as if inviting their muzzles.
"A rather transparent allegory," said Lucie. "I don't know this establishment."
"Let me present Madame Gadaille," said Heloise.
"Madame, Ladies, Monsieur, come in. They will take care of your horses. You will dine here?"
"Yes, yes, Gadaille," continued Heloise, "and in the room I hired from you."
"Very good. You are at home. I'll accompany you to make sure everything is in order. You'll not have to wait long for dinner."
They mounted a staircase at the back of a coffee-room, and on the first floor, at the end of a corridor, found themselves in a veritable little nest, furnished, one would have sworn, for this very circumstance.
The floor was covered with a very beautiful carpet with different little rugs at the door and French windows which gave upon a balcony overlooking the Seine, an isolated balcony which had no communication with neighboring rooms. A large divan, armchairs, a table in the center of the room and ottomans completed the furnishing, with a large mirror. The balcony was festooned with flowers and surmounted by an awning, guaranteeing it from the sun's rays and indiscreet glances from below.
They had barely entered when Lucie, who did not feel at ease, careless of the presence of La Gadaille, removed her hat and threw her arms about Emile's neck, gazing into his eyes and murmured:
"Ah, cherie, one must learn patience or pay. One of these accounts, eh?"
Their gaze remained fixed in a cerebral ecstasy, and La Gadaille, looking at them, said quite softly to Heloise:
"Well, well, now, then it isn't your party today?"
"Yes, yes, mine also."
"All three together then!"
"Yes."
Her eyes widened in marvel and surprise.
"Ah, but nice things happen when you're young, rich, and beautiful!"
"Don't you give your part to others?"
"Sure, but there are things happening that one never can experience."
"Well, you have only to wish them with the men and women who come here."
"You can't see people who are on the run. Oh, love, love, how beautiful it is! Look, how they gaze at each other all the time and see nobody else. You may tell them not to be embarrassed. Let them love each other, let them love! You're not angry when I look through the keyhole?"
"What's that to us, if you let us alone?"
"Ah, we'll let you alone here! You know, I'm only a woman, but if anyone tried to disturb you, I'd stick my kitchen knife in his belly."
"Does it liven you up to see that? Well, then, do it yourself. Try the coachman. Go with him, Gadaille, he's my friend's coachman, and he loves women like you."
"Is that so?"
"As I tell you."
' Ah, holy Madonna, see them glue their mouths together! I'm going. I'll have the Madeira brought up; they'll set your table and you will dine soon, that I promise you. Ah, Saint Melanie, my patron, look at them. They haven't any mouths at all now; they've melted into each other. My legs are trembling! I'm going downstairs, I'm all a-flutter, oh, the angels, the cherubs, the rascals!"
La Gadaille left the room, and Heloise, bored by her verbosity, placed her hand on Lucie's shoulder.
"Well, well you are nice you two, and I don't count at all, do I?"
Lucie trembled through all her being, as if an electric discharge had passed through her. Emile controlled himself. The lips of the two lovers separated and Lucie rubbed her eyes.
She replied, "Dieu! but I was far away, far away! What is it, my dear, were you busied about dinner with your inn-keeper?"
"You don't care about being watched!"
"Why be embarrassed? You told us we might make ourselves at home here."
"It would be just as well, however, to wait until the table is set and dinner served, the doors closed and solitude at last realized and guaranteed, unless you want to do it in the middle of the street in which case, I warn you, I'm no longer any part of the celebration."
"You're right, you're right. We'll be sensible. When are they going to set the table?"
"In a moment. They're bringing Madeira to help our patience. Are you smoking, Lucie?"
"An excellent idea, if it won't shock you, Emile?"
"Oh on the contrary, take one of mine, and I shall imitate you."
A boy of about fifteen appeared with a tray containing the expected bottle and the glasses.
As he was serving them, Heloise winked at Lucie and Emile to pay attention, and seated in an armchair, blowing out her first puff of smoke, said:
"What's new here, Severin?"
"Always the same thing, Madame. We serve fishermen who eat on the run and tourists who make a racket."
"And the private rooms?"
His sulky face cleared and he replied, "Oh, besides this one, the others are used only by swine."
"Swine!"
"Rats who don't care about the service and make the patron laugh. When one works here, things are not monotonous."
"How is that?"
"Every time the patron returns from service, she embraces us in the corner and if we want to plague her for certain trifles, she permits it."
"Then, if she's bad, you have only to remind her of that."
"Then she raps us on the head. She's a gay one! Can't play with her then! But when we plague her, she plagues us."
"And that's pleasant enough."
"If we're not afraid and let her go ahead."
While he talked, he set the table, and the three sipped Madeira and smoked cigarettes. Lucie, seated on Emile's knees, observed the boy, thin and dry he was, his face wise and crafty at once, whose eyes sometimes threw out furtive looks, apparently in examination of the possible acts of a man and two women in a private room.
A voice called, "Severin!"
"Oh," he said, "dinner's going well. La Gadaille will be nice tonight."
He ran in answer to the call.
"The boy is funny," said Lucie, with her elbow on one of Emile's shoulders.
"Everything's funny in this house," replied Heloise, "and if I dragged those few words from him, it was to warn you that the doors and walls have eyes and ears, fortunately well-wishing, which, however, inspire their possessors to heat, according to the degree which reigns here."
"My compliments on your room," said Lucie, leaving Emile's knees.
"As for myself, that has always amused me. I am certain that you will experience the same effect, when you see Gadaille's exaltation."
"That may be. For the moment, it doesn't please me to think that I am an object in a spectacle."
"Do you want me to take your place with Emile?"
"Gadaille won't be long in serving; examine the phenomenon."
"Don't go too far."
"Are you afraid that -"
"No, no, no, I mean only that we should be reserved."
"Be reserved. Oh, Lucie!"
Lucie broke into laughter at this exclamation, and Heloise took her place on Emile's lap, undid her bodice, took out one of her breasts and guided one of her cavalier's hands beneath her skirts.
She said, "A little warmth for me, Monsieur Lucie's lover, or I shall freeze at twenty-five degrees below zero and then good-bye to the night's follies."
"A little? Much!" replied Emile, kissing her breast and playing with her buttocks.
The door opened again and Melanie Gadaille entered, carrying the dinner which she hastened to dispose on the table, her eyes shining, looking from the couple formed by Heloise and Emile to Lucie, who, occupied by placing the chairs, watched her out of the corner of her eye.
"Oh," murmured Melanie, "he is for both of them."
"That's plain enough," said Lucie.
"You won't fight?"
"Fight? What for?"
"Disputing him. You seemed to love each other so much a little while ago."
"Now he loves my friend."
"He's playing with her chest and her bung!"
"He'll play with mine in a moment."
"Oh, oh, oh!"
She could say nothing more and ran to the stairway.
In the twinkling of an eye, the chairs had been drawn up to the table and with hearty appetites, they attacked the dinner intermingled with loving playfulness.
Was it a case for the Army of the Voluptuous? Sometimes, they returned to it, and heat rose in their three heads, a heat that reached the kitchen, through Melanie Gadaille who, her eye nearly all the while nailed to the keyhole or through the door which she had taken care not to close, lost nothing of what was going on. She ran to fetch the help, her two boys and the maid, her niece, a girl of twenty years, badly modelled and newly arrived from her village.
"Oh, the lovely people!" she exclaimed. "How many tricks they know! The gentleman, I saw it, kissed the bung of both of them before they sat down to the table."
"Patroness, I'll kiss yours."
"You snotty little brat, you wouldn't know what to do next."
"You can teach me."
"Silence. The tall one, with red hair, she has such a crush on the man that she lends him her friend so they may have more fun. She says to him, 'Ah, but what beautiful breasts Heloise has, who's going to nurse?' he replies, 'I am, the little soldier of the Boutteville Company.' It seems that the gentleman is a soldier."
"Ah, boss, I'd like to be a soldier in a regiment where you were the colonel!" cried the other boy, a little older, a little taller, but just as thin.
"You, Piquolong, why you're as much of a canary-bird as Severin is. Now, Heloise gets up and says to her friend, 'You're always praising my breasts but you've legs such as few women have, and thighs which themselves are a poem, and I love to kiss them.' Then, her friend, Lucie, as they call her, pulled up all her skirts. Ah, my poor old mother, if you could see this lingerie and those legs! Heloise is on her knees now, and her little muzzle, so soft, is pushing about among the hairs. Her friend has put her legs about her neck and says, 'Nibble, nibble, my love, oh, how welcome you are!'"
"Oh, aunty, is it possible that women do that?"
"See for yourself," replied Melanie Gadaille, pulling up her skirts and exhibiting a truly turfy place big enough for a muff.
"Oh, oh, oh!" cried the two boys, ravished, raising their hands to heaven.
"Be quiet, you idiots, will you, and you, Bettine, are you coming?"
The girl, blushing crimson, shrugged her shoulders and replied:
"I don't say 'no,' I don't say 'no,' but you ought to give the example by beginning under me."
"Slut!"
"Don't be angry, patroness," said a new voice, seizing her by the bung. It was Polycarpe, Lucie's coachman. "You are strongly built," he continued, "and owlish enough. Might one take Mademoiselle's place?"
"Take your hand off my seat."
"It will stay there until centuries have passed, unless you give your consent."
"If I am forced! But, you know, I am not through with her."
The coachman knelt gallantly and kissed the cabaretiere's cunt while he said:
"A bungler, bad enough to wake the dead."
The two boys threw furious looks upon Polycarpe; Bettine blushed still deeper; Melanie grew sad.
"Get up, coachman," she said, "and we'll serve your repast."
"You couldn't choose more elegant language."
"Well, we use the best of everything in this establishment!"
She had been the recipient of gallantry, so Melanie wasted no time in serving him. She put him at a table in the cafe and set Piquolong to wait on him. Then she climbed the stairs again and remained breathless before the door.
CHAPTER X
LUCIE AND HELOISE had removed their dresses and both of them, playing sixty-nine on the divan with Lucie on top, devoured each other with burning caresses.
Lucie, hot after her friend, twisted under Emile's eyes as he stood near the divan admiring her in the throes of her passion.
"Say, say," she murmured, between two suckings, "that I shall not lose your love by giving homage to such beauty, beauty that I have always loved and which always inflames my blood!"
"No, cherie, I understand your taste for such rich treasures, and I myself would join your homage if we were more at ease than we are here."
"Come, come. See my bung; kiss it; caress or stick your tongue between my thighs. Unite your tongues on my little button, and I shall believe that you still love me."
"Do I love you, do I love you! Oh, the pretty bung, the pretty bung! Ah, Heloise, your little tongue reaches toward mine across her thighs, ah, I am at the end, at the end!"
"Wait, wait a little."
"Speak, speak to me as you will, but distract my thoughts."
"Love, love, approach this way, see her thighs, come with me and make her little button tremble under the accord of our tongues. Yes, yes, come closer; see this delicate belly; see this navel. Heloise, Heloise, don't bite my thighs. He must bow before your beauty; there is the button, come. Take it in your mouth; take it in your mouth; it is all wet with my saliva."
Back of the door, Melanie Gadaille crouched, her temples pounding.
Emile replied: "Yes, yes, I hold her little button now and I smell on her your saliva, your sweet and perfumed breath; your love penetrates me. Oh, what are you doing? You want to kiss me there, there! No, no, I shan't hold out against the fever. Come back to that dear treasure, and then, let me take you."
"Ah, my love, but I am happy, you, yourself, invite me to caress her. She deserves it, doesn't she, and you, return to my bung, yes, lick. At the door, ah, what an intoxication, ah, but, let us calm ourselves; the servants are coming."
"Don't be disturbed," said Heloise. "Melanie will wait until we've finished."
"Good, good!"
"Melanie!" She had run down the stairs, grabbed her niece by the arm and said to her:
"Come, look!"
The girl hadn't to be asked twice. She climbed the stairs after her aunt and stood with her mouth open, her eyes glued to the keyhole, gazing on the sight of Lucie's ass, still bent over her friend's thighs, that bung which rose like a ball of flesh to Emile's admiration as he stood there.
"Well, well, you see," murmured Melanie.
Emile, his tail in his hand, tried to tear Lucie's thighs from Heloise's fingers and to thrust her away from it. She beat upon his gland with little fillips while Lucie glued her mouth over her button.
Bettine felt her aunt pull up her dress and nibble madly at her ass with her teeth.
"Ah, ah, don't bite me," she said without making a move to defend herself. "Ah, ah, what are those things doing to me!"
"Either you stay a virgin," said Melanie, "or you must become like those pretty ladies, and then, affairs will flock to you."
"Oh, pretty, pretty like them! What white skin and fine lingerie they have! Oh, he's a devil, that man."
"You have the material and when you're rid of it, you shall see."
"Lose my virginity to whom? With your boys? They're too stupid. With the customers? They look down on me. With the servants of these people? They run after you."
"Ah, ah, cochonne, you've enjoyed my kisses, now you must give me yours.
"What are they doing in there?"
"What about serving them?"
"The two women have separated and the one with red hair is sitting on the man's lap and caressing his face with her little hands. He, he's scratching her muff. The blonde is standing, she has her bubbies in her hands and is offering them to the others to lick."
"You have time to do it."
"I want to, I do want to, aunty, but I like to watch them, too."
At this moment when both of them were absorbed, one in looking through the keyhole, the other making advances to the first, Severin came up on tiptoe, and ran against Melanie's back, thrust his hand to her bung before she had time to recover from her astonishment and, pushing her to all fours, directed his tail between her thighs with such quickness that it went straight to her cunt and she could only submit.
"Ah, you little bandit, you little devil, ah, good-for-nothing, you have found your linnet! La, la, give her your grain."
The brave boy needed no encouragement. He attacked with a vigor enhanced by his excitation, and by the sight of Bettine's buttocks. She, nonchalantly, held up her skirts with one hand while she kept her eye to the keyhole, apparently ignorant of what was going on below her in spite of the many collisions her aunt's head made with her legs under the influence of Severin's attack. "Oh, oh," she murmured, "the red-head is stretched on the divan, her belly and thighs naked! How beautiful she is, how beautiful she is! Oh, oh, the man is between her legs, in his shirt, and he's going to stick his tool in her! Oh, the other one kisses the man's bung and plays with it. Eh, they've stopped; they're listening." A short strident whistle was heard. Emile bent again to the possession of Lucie. Hearing the whistle, she stopped him and rose on her elbow. Heloise backed away from the couple. A short silence followed, disturbed only by the assaults incident to Melanie's copulation. The coachman Polycarpe, in the coffee-room, sang loudly:
"The birds in the trees
Watch out for the breeze.
Attention, my love, There's rascals above!"
Instantly, Lucie and Heloise were on their feet and signaling to Emile to adjust his clothing, as they were doing. A frightful din shook the door of the room. Severin, playing with his hostess, in his exaltation had leant against Bettine's legs in such a way that the latter, surprised, staggered and fell on top of the couple, her skirts in the air.
The two women of Voluptuousness were unafraid. Heloise, her disorder already repaired, threw herself toward the door, which they had now taken care to put on the latch, opened it and perceived a tumbled heap of flesh and clothing.
Plaints were many.
"Oh, la, la, oh la la; I've bumped my head."
"Cochonne, you've taken a piece out of my mouth!"
"Nom de Dieu! I shan't ever get rid of my virginity!"
'What the hell do I care about your virginity? Idiot!"
Lucie had come up and Emile followed her.
"Well, what does this mean?" asked Heloise.
From the agitated mess under their eyes, supplications arose. The aunt and her niece were left embarrassed in their skirts and were being tossed about by Severin who, not to be frustrated, crawled about their legs, trying not to lose his prey and attacking wherever he could in an attempt to reseize a female orifice. Unfortunately, these openings were leaping in opposition and a voice cried from the bottom of the stairs:
"Well, Gadaille, where are you hiding? Must I go look for you?"
At the sound of this voice, dislocation was eventually accomplished in the group and, without replying to Heloise, without paying any attention to the open door, La Gadaille, her niece and Severin ran to the stairway.
The astonishment of Heloise and her companions showed in their faces.
"Let us go back," she said. "Everything will be explained, and we have nothing to fear."
"We're not safe," observed Lucie.
"Yes, yes."
"The signal!"
"The unexpected arrival of some customers, their impatience on finding no one to wait on them, and the signal was given."
"What were they doing, outside our door?"
"That, I am certain, was in imitation of what we were doing."
"They were spying on us!"
"What does that matter to us! The example is contagious, and we owe it to them."
"You're right."
They were again seated at table. Emile was annoyed and recitated the first verses of the fable of the country rat invited to visit his city cousin.
"That isn't so," Lucie said to him gently. "We are afraid of nobody and we are above all curious."
"More than amorous, in this case."
"No, you bad boy, but perhaps almost as much. Besides, isn't Love a curiosity? Drop that sulky air, Emile, and kiss me."
"Hm. A kiss after such a warming-up?"
"Do you disdain it?"
"To guard ourselves against imprudence."
"Then he knows!"
"Soldier of the Voluptuous," said Heloise, putting her hand on his shoulder, "live for Love, and wait for knowledge and judgment until your instruction is finished."
"Very well, my captain," he replied, kissing her hand.
She leaned over, kissed his eyes and said:
"We are proud enough of ourselves and our husbands are sure enough of our wills, so that nothing need tarnish the fire of our intoxications."
"No, no, quite the contrary, but I'm afraid, so far as I'm concerned, of the warming-up."
"You big booby! If you get too hot, you shall take me, if you can't control yourself. Isn't that right, Heloise?"
"Oh, you have time. Come, come, isn't Melanie going to answer my ring? I've got to know what happened."
"Why do you suppose something happened?" asked Emile.
"But the signal!"
"What signal?"
"The whistle and the song."
"Somebody sang?"
"Yes, Polycarpe, the coachman."
"To warn you?"
Melanie Gadaille came in, bringing Sever-in and the rest of the dinner.
Heloise asked her, "Must I give up this room, Madame Gadaille?"
"Pardon, Madame, oh, pardon me. We ran into each other in the corridor and fell one on top of the other, I don't know how, too much haste, probably."
"You were on the floor for a good while, nevertheless."
"Oh, really, Madame."
"Your customers were impatient."
"How can you say that! From this room you cannot hear what goes on below, and nobody below can hear what goes on in this place."
"Excuse me, but my hearing is very acute. Besides, someone called you. When I went to see about the noise you were making, the customers who had just come belong to the police."
"Do you see through the walls, then?"
"We were on the balcony from which it is possible to see all those who enter the house."
For a moment, in the face of such assurance, La Gadaille almost dropped the tray from which she was serving dessert; but she had the presence of mind to reply, "Ah, that's true, it's so well placed, that balcony, that in the darkness, as it is now, one can see even better than he can in broad daylight."
"You may save your congratulations for the architect," said Heloise, undisturbed.
"I shan't forget; but I value your patronage too much not to swear that here you are your own masters, and that with Melanie Gadaille living, nobody is going to come in unless you want him in."
It was sincere. Heloise said, "Very well, then, let's have no more trouble."
"You may be perfectly sure that no one will disturb you."
"Ah, no one!"
"I am your guardian."
She left and they recommenced their toying, but there was less spontaneity in it. Lucie drew Emile to the divan and abandoned herself to him. He played with her, finding himself in the possession of new strength, like Antheus embracing his mother earth.
CHAPTER XI
THE CARRIAGE, ON THE way back, followed the river and moved slowly, each of them feeling the need to muse in the sweet silence of the night, following the fever.
Well paid, Melanie had given the most convincing demonstrations of devotion. Polycarpe, impassible on his box, seemed to look down on the whole world.
The fete was not over; it was just beginning. They entered the Monceau Quartier and went to the bachelor quarters kept by Count de Boutteville. The Countess possessed a key and they intended to finish the gambols they considered as hardly begun.
Emile, in the shadow of the cab between the two women was enjoying the same reverie they sought.
"It's a wonderful night," murmured Lucie.
"A night for Love," he replied.
"The eternal refrain," said Heloise.
"To love, to love, to know how to love," continued Lucie.
"Speak of it, do it, and die," said Emile.
"And live," said Heloise.
"Poetry does not exclude realism," continued Lucie.
"Realism is conducive to poetry," concluded Emile.
"Poetry and realism are united in desire," said Heloise.
Then the two women turned to Emile and broke into happy laughter.
"Is it stupid to think of the happiness of playing together?"
"Play! There's the word for the situation. There is the word of order for generations! Play with life, play with Fortune, play with one's destiny."
"Play with love, honey, the rest doesn't count. Tell me, is it true, the more you play with me, the more you want to?"
"A phenomenon contrary to custom. The more I use my riches, the richer I become."
"Then I give you mine!"
"That's possible."
"That doesn't happen with other women?"
"My maximum with them has been two sacrifices."
"Sacrifices, oh! Twice only!"
She pouted in disdain.
"Others. With you," he murmured, "how many victories in one combat?"
"I never remember but the present moment," she replied.
"Then, this moment vanishing into the past, you will forget me, Lucie."
"The duration of the present, my dear, is within the wills of the two lovers. Wisdom commands that one enclose within it the fires of his imagination."
They arrived and, at last, were their own masters. And, as soon as they were naked, he had to possess her once more, to the great satisfaction of Heloise who, in the presence of such a player, had no fear but that she would receive her reasonable share of the festivities.
They engaged themselves in the pursuit of desire. If Emile thought he had attained Olympus with Lucie and Yvonne, he was forced to the realization that he hadn't even perceived the sky before the exuberance of pleasures which Lucie and Heloise brought him by their rivalry in the science of the lascivious.
They parted in broad daylight, each seeking his own home, with the hope of a frequent recurrence of such attractive nights firm in their minds.
Returning to the Rue Cottambert on foot, Emile Lodenbach asked himself if he were not the plaything of some superhuman dream.
But his mind was unhaunted by doubt. He loved Lucie with a love that was ardent and passionate, dominating and unconquerable. He loved her and he felt, without fear now, that her role in the Voluptuous Army did not content itself with the purely passive but that, like Heloise de Boutteville, who was famous for her love and devotion to her husband, she must give herself frequently in parties like these. This woman met by chance in the Moulin-Rouge had taken hold of his life while he was trying to escape the slavery of Lucette's charms.
Lucette, Lucie, Heloise, Yvonne, what had happened to him that he was slipping thus, down an imperceptible and unsuspected wave and mixing himself in this prohibited association with an amorous band? What part was his in this association? Truly, he knew but little of it.
He found his domestics in a state of consternation. He had never before been out all night, and Leonard, noting his absence in the morning, had run to the police with a declaration of his disappearance.
In a mad fury, Emile said to him: "Animal, am I not master of my own time, and haven't I the leisure to stay out late if I am in company with those who please me?"
"Monsieur should have told us. All morning Rosalie and I have not ceased weeping."
"Are you insane? I am touched by your affection, but no exaggeration, now! I shall come home when it pleases me to do so and if I wish to travel without telling you about it, I shall not ask your agreement."
"Certainly, we are not Monsieur's master! But, attached to his service as we are, we consider ourselves as part of the family."
"Very well. I believe in your feeling since I keep you and tolerate you with all your faults! But take care of your work and leave me in peace from now on. Was anyone here looking for me? Where's my paper?"
"Monsieur's paper is in his study. A lady dressed in a bicyclist's costume, oh, a pretty girl, a little bold, however, wished to speak with Monsieur. She was annoyed not to find him in and left a packet of papers."
"Where is it?"
"On Monsieur's desk with his paper."
Emile felt that it concerned the Voluptuous Army. He locked himself in his study and hastened to open the packet.
It contained a pile of papers and a visiting card on which he read:
Claire Harling
Rue de Prony
As he presumed, the papers concerned the Army of the Voluptuous and bore different titles. His attention was captured by the first which recorded the Army's organization.
The Voluptuous Army was constituted in the year 1892 of three army corps: the first, with headquarters at Paris; the second, with headquarters at Bordeaux; the third, with headquarters at Lyons, reporting directly to six grand masters and mistresses residing in Paris.
"The first army corps at Paris comprises two regiments each divided into four battalions of two companies each. The company is divided into five groups of twelve persons, six of each sex, and a formation squad belonging to the company. The first regiment is under the direction of a colonel and garrisons the right bank. Its colonel is Lucette de Mongellan. The second is under the direction of a colonel and garrisons the left bank. Its colonel is Lucien Gourraud.
"Each of these regiments furnishes a contingent of soldiers to the barracks, called the College of Saint-Yves, a place of retreat for men of the world, with conferences under the auspices of M. the chaplain Rectal.
"The army corps of Bordeaux, not yet organized into regiments has its companies distributed through all the region of the West and is under the direction of General the Duke de Montsicourt. The army corps of Lyons, organized in the same manner for the Eastern region, is under the direction of General Sister Sainte Lucille, of the Order of the Cornflowers."
Several details followed:
"The Voluptuous Army is based on the perfect equality of the sexes in love and is subdivided into officers and soldiers only by the degrees of initiation, the assessments paid, services rendered, individual initiative and seniority, etc. Its ranks comprise only persons of education and discretion, converted to liberty in love and in its discretion. It is strengthened by the auxiliary army which incorporates servants and persons of low birth, or position which offer certain guarantees and may aspire by perfecting themselves to pass to the rosters of the Voluptuous Army. Every soldier of the Voluptuous Army is ex officio an officer of the auxiliary army.
"The auxiliary army has its squads which depend on a Company and furnishes a special contingent to these Companies.
"Every new soldier, admitted into the Voluptuous Army, pays an initiation fee and monthly assessment.
"These assessments are used toward the development of social administration, for the great festivals, for the purchase of fittings for the barracks, the places of meeting, and for indemnities to the less fortunate members who enter the Army.
"Besides these assessments, the Voluptuous Army accepts gifts, specie, property of all kinds, which the Counsel of Grand Masters and Mistresses uses on the interest of all.
"The enlisted person is assigned to a group to which he will belong, and the day after his engagement, service ordered to instruct him in the salutes, usages, regulations for meetings, etc.
"If he is away from home, he will report to the person who brings him the packet containing these papers and who is charged with his apprenticeship. He will present himself without fail the following day."
At this paragraph, Emile reread the card which bore the name of Claire Harling, and he murmured:
"Another beauty on the horizon, but what a chaos we are in just now!"
He slept the rest of the day, so that he might be prepared for any outcome, and reported to the Rue de Prony on the following day.
In response to the questions he addressed to the concierge a door on the ground floor was indicated to him, and having rung, he was admitted by Claire Harling herself, into a luxuriously furnished apartment.
"Have I the honor of speaking to Mme. Claire Harling?" he asked.
"Mademoiselle," replied the young woman, a pretty blonde, golden, with a sweet, low, compelling voice.
"Ah, Mademoiselle!"
"To the world, Monsieur," she replied smiling. She was dressed in fresh-looking grey material.
"But I wonder!"
"Monsieur Emile Lodenbach, aren't you?"
"Exactly. You've introduced me without my naming myself. Isn't there some danger in that?"
"Oh, no. I have your picture, and I recognized you."
"My picture!"
"Your photograph. See, here it is."
She opened a drawer and took out a photograph of Emile.
"Marvellous! How did you come by that?"
"Through someone who indicated you as a possible member of the Army, and who had the necessary copies made."
"Copies!"
"One here for me, your initiator, shall I say?"
"A charming initiator."
"Thank you. One for the Grand Counsel, one for your Captain, your Commander, your Colonel."
"Ah, mon Dieu, so many chiefs for a man who loves his ease."
"Your life will not be disturbed. The army is composed of brothers and sisters who try only to be agreeable and who disturb nobody's habits."
"And you are to instruct me?"
"Yes; an amusing situation, isn't it? I, a little girl in comparison with you. I am twenty, Monsieur. And I am to instruct a gentleman who is older than I!"
"What is the instruction?"
"To teach you first the rules of recognition among us. Every soldier in the Voluptuous Army wears a daisy in his buttonhole. The officers do not."
"You do not wear it, are you an officer then?"
"A lieutenant. The daisy indicates in the street a man or woman of the Voluptuous, and the salute is made by touching the flower. If the salute is returned, that signifies there is no error, between the different sexes, a press of hands follows, presentation, and the promise of an amorous rencontre."
"That's quick work!"
"The Voluptuous Army wishes to facilitate love through means such as these. It is good for members of the same family to know each other well, and how could they know each other better than through the act of love!"
"Ah, Mademoiselle, you say that so nicely that the idea converts one at once."
"You will not be refused, later, if you profit by your lesson. There's a bad mark against you for the incorrectness of our beginning, and I must put it down."
She took a note-book from the table next to which she was standing.
"I shall try to merit my pardon. What punishment do I otherwise incur?"
"Separation for one, two, three days or more, from the well-beloved mistress whom you cherish above all others."
"The devil! How can I remove the mark?"
"By meriting numerous good ones."
"My part is difficult, apprentice as I am still imbued with many worldly practices."
"Allowances shall be made for those. The salute of love is obligatory between members of the Voluptuous Army who meet in a rendezvous or in the domains belonging to the Army."
"The salute of love?"
"Yes. A few words before we begin on these questions. We are here under conditions which have little of the ordinary about them. The Voluptuous Army is not banal conception. I shall speak freely of subjects which are considered as scabrous and forbidden to girls of my age. Now make the examination of your conscience. Before having been called to appreciate the merits of enrollment with us, you lived amorously. When was your first love?"
"Oh!"
"Forgotten?"
"Just about."
"At what age did you leave infancy?"
"Well, that depends on the manner you mean to indicate."
"We are speaking of things of love! I call leaving infancy the approach of a woman, losing your virginity."
"Well, then, at what age did I lose my virginity?"
"Yes, that's it."
"Oh, about sixteen."
"With whom?"
"With a little cousin."
"That's very good! No maids and no business girls. What's happened to your little cousin?"
"That's a rather delicate question! A man doesn't tell such stories!"
"You are no longer only a man, you are a member of the Voluptuous Army, and since you need not confess the name, you may speak without fear."
"My little cousin is married, the mother of a family and lives in the provinces."
"After the little cousin, did you have a long series of mistresses?"
"No, not too long. Let us say three, and then several adventures."
"An amorous baggage of reasonable extent. What did you practice with your mistresses and in your little adventures?"
"How, practice?"
"What kind of pleasure?"
"The kind? But there aren't many!"
"Oh, oh, oh! Where were you two nights ago? You may speak, I know. You were with officers of the Voluptuous Army."
"Lucie Steinger and Heloise de Boutteville."
"Superior women, both of them, who love a great variety of pleasures."
"Ah, I understand, I understand! Beautiful child, it is almost a confession you are wringing from me. And what a confession! You are adorable, but I don't see that my confession has much to do with the instruction you are going to give me.
"It is to sustain me in my work. In speaking of the secrets of the heart and of the alcove, I penetrate into your soul. I accustom myself to the lesson that I have to teach you, and I forget that I am before a man who doesn't yet belong to the voluptuous communion. So, answer me, and we shall be more at ease, both of us."
"There, recognize the young girl, recognize at least the intellectuality of a young girl and I shall satisfy you on all those points. Until I met Lucie, I practiced what one may call simple love, natural love only, without exaggerated flourishings. A sexual accord in bed, before sleeping, little pleasantries during the day, according to circumstances, but no, no variety!"
"A spirit new to the voluptuous."
"For ten days, I have no longer been that."
"Your desire for woman has ended in the act of your liaisons. My job becomes more difficult. I do not recoil before it. The Voluptuous Army includes a little more than six thousand men and women voluptuaries. It has grown rapidly these past few years; it marches behind me, inspiring me. I told you that the salute of love was obligatory upon two members of different sexes meeting in a rendezvous or in the dependencies of the Army. The salute of love is the act of courtesy from the cavalier to the lady with whom he might an accord of pleasure, and after an exchange of signs and gestures, this puts both of them at ease."
She left her chair and standing before him, continued:
"The cavalier salutes the lady by taking the hem of her skirt and kissing it. The lady responds by taking the hem of the dress and drawing it, with the underskirts, up over her breasts, exposing also her legs."
"And yours are beautifully formed, my darling," he replied, for while they spoke, they executed the salute.
"As are those of all who love Love and its voluptuousness. Do you see enough of me?"
"I see your white and curving thighs; I see your blonde down; I like your belly, and I adore your navel, framed as it is by your chemise."
"The cavalier kneels before the lady, kisses her thighs, and slides his hand toward her posteriors."
"This way?"
"If he wishes to kiss them, he places his thumb in the centre; the lady turns, presenting the object so, since you ask it. The kiss accomplished, the cavalier rises and shows himself to the lady."
"Shows himself! Ah, yes, yes, opens his trousers and takes out the lance of love. There it is."
"The lady touches it with her fingers and they return to a normal position, the salute of love having been completed. Let us sit down again and continue the lesson."
"Ah, very delicious, and more so by the example, by practice, as it were."
"The salute of kiss of love is required before any conversation or experience in pleasure. One of the parties must remind the other of it. It is forgotten and it is executed in a salon, by the master of the house, as many times as he admits ladies; by the mistress of the house, as many times as cavaliers are admitted. In a meeting of several members of both sexes, the salute of love is replaced by the salute of the voluptuous. The meeting being constituted by the assembly of all the members of a group, or by brothers and sisters invited to a festival or convoked at a garrison, or by couples organized into a multiple party, the ladies group themselves about a point, the cavaliers about another. The latter then advance toward the ladies, in single file; the ladies arranged in a line, pull up their skirts at the same time as far as their waists. The cavalier's defile about them, one hand in their trousers, then each approaches a lady and places his machine in the rear furrow."
"Practice makes a thing more easily remembered."
She smiled, rose, and with no embarrassment at all, threw her skirts over one arm, exhibiting her legs for a second time, with their curving calves under black silk stockings. She followed him with her eyes while he made the turn about her and when she felt his tail between her posteriors, she continued:
"One retains this posture for a second or so. The ladies make a step forward and return the masculine engine to its liberty. They turn to the cavalier, still holding up her skirts, lean forward in a bow, and the cavalier approaches to their mouths. Yes, yes, very good, let us be seated."
"Are there many salutes of this kind?"
"But, enough. We shall certainly not review them all in one lesson."
"My instruction will be long, then?"
"That depends on your wishes."
"Oh, I want to learn."
"I believe you."
She broke out into joyous laughter, and arranging her skirts with one hand on her knees, she added:
"You are in love with Lucie and she is in love with you. Now, in the Voluptuous Army, it is a great happiness and a great honour to get excited over one's lesson. Come here, that you may learn how the declaration of love is made in our ranks."
"There are declarations of love?"
"Oh, the idiot, who thinks that because people show themselves, mingle with each other and sleep together, there is no true love capable of inspiring and receiving declarations! Love has several differing nuances. There is love of woman and love of flesh, which provoke the desire of the simple duo between the two lovers, or multiple ecstasies in the company of many others."
"You are a Bachelor of Love."
"I am a lieutenant in the Voluptuous Army. A declaration is quite often the means of bringing together a brother and sister who meet for the first time. The lady is seated as I am, the cavalier is standing before her as you are. This is the look which the lady gives him."
"The devil, animals look that way."
"Do not say animals; say, men. Be of our kind. My look has won your approbation; I shall not excuse it. Under this look your knees on one side, the left side, you take me by the waist, your hand goes from my breasts to your lips, yes, yes, yes, over mine. Ouf! Let's rest a moment. That has its effect, you know, and we're not ready to go to the end in the first lesson."
"Eh? What did you say?"
"I should incur punishment if, instructing you I should abandon myself to desire."
He rose immediately and cried:
"Oh, then it's to be continued in our next meeting, Mademoiselle, my sister in the Voluptuous. I have no desire to leave my card in my trousers."
"Come now, you big booby, if I cannot abandon myself, it is permitted me to lend you any exterior part of my body which suits you for your comfort. Come finish the declarations, come little soldier of love."
He threw himself upon his knees, took her about the waist again, and his eyes on hers, awaited her next words.
"The kiss on the lips exchanged," she continued, "you place your head on my shoulder and you murmur: 'Love, Love, in truth.' Repeat it."
"Love, love, in truth."
"Very good. I undo my corsage and take out these two little doves which you kiss and nurse at. Holy Virgin! but these lessons are hard and sweet!"
"Claire, Claire, who would know?"
"You and I. Leave my breasts, you have kissed them enough. I caress your cheeks, I throw myself backwards, you say, 'Love, love, where are you? I desire.' Repeat it."
"Love, love, where are you? I desire."
"Love is there, is there, see the temple where he lives, and kiss the door that brings to you forgetfulness of the world, kiss. You understand."
Leaning backward, her legs thrown forward and wide apart, her skirts drawn up to her waist, she presented her cunt and he kissed it, licking the clitoris.
"Enough, enough," she said, rising and pulling down her skirts. "Don't hold me. Let's finish the lesson. It's getting late. If you want to play, speak, name your whim, anything but possession, even by the mouth, and my action helping you, my body is yours."
"What is there remaining?"
"Touching and sight."
"Touch!"
"To approach whatever point tempts you."
"No, no, all or nothing. Will it be the same at the next lesson?"
"Tomorrow, at the same hour, you will come here again for the continuation of your instruction. Tomorrow, if you are ardent enough, I shall be free to give it to you. But... how many things between now and then! You will submit to the experience of leaving as you came?"
"Yes, and I shall win a merit."
"Such a merit that the bad mark against you is effaced."
She taught him a few more signs of recognition, and they separated for luncheon.
CHAPTER XII
AS HE WAS REMOVING HIS HAT IN THE vestibule, Leonard said:
"Monsieur, there was another lady here asking for you. She is waiting in the salon. I tried to tell her that you might return very late, but it was useless. Ah, Monsieur, let the ladies alone. They've been running after you too much since yesterday."
"Monsieur Leonard, you may let it go at that. Tell Rosalie that I shall ring for service."
"If Monsieur wishes to have his luncheon first, the lady isn't in a hurry, since she waits now."
"Really? And am I no longer the master of my own house?"
"Certainly, Monsieur. I spoke only for your own good."
In his salon, Emile perceived a lady in a dark dress, with a thick veil over her face. When he entered, she rose to salute him.
He was about to bow gravely when the lady drew aside her veil and he cried:
"Lucette! You!"
"Your colonel, my dear, who comes herself to inquire about your progress."
"Ah, ah, ah, she is very good, my colonel."
Then, remembering the salute Claire had taught him, he hastened to execute it and noted that under Lucette's severe costume were hidden rich underthings and an appetizing flesh un-obscured by any pantaloon.
"My dear," said she, when the salute had been completed, "I now become Lucette de Mongellan again, and I want you to invite me for luncheon."
"You will grant me that favor?"
"That we may be more comfortable to talk afterwards, if you like."
"Most assuredly."
His orders given to Leonard, astonished at this change in his master's usual solitude, they awaited the announcement of the meal. Emile took the girl's hands in his and asked:
"To whom do I owe the revelation of the Voluptuous Army?"
"To me. Your love had touched me. I wished your happiness; I could not detach myself from the accepted duties which earned me the rank I hold in the Voluptuous Army! After the ball at Heloise's, I decided that you should join us, and I acted."
"You loved me!"
"Your happiness was dear to me, and since, I have begun to doubt that your happiness finds itself in mine. Well, there are nuances. Tell me frankly, Emile, very frankly, do you desire me with the same ardour you used to feel?"
"With the same ardour, yes."
"You have just come from your first lesson, and Claire refused you. Allow for the heat resulting from your interview and tell me, is it a woman you desire, or Lucette?"
"I can not distinguish. You are beautiful, beautiful, and I would love you frenziedly."
"And if Lucie were here?"
"Lucie! Oh, what a dream with you two!"
"The voluptuous dominates love! And if you had to choose between one and the other?"
"Choose?"
"Yes, choose."
His heart was wrung, he hesitated, and then he replied:
"The Voluptuous Army is a lie then, that jealousy may subsist within it, and this jealousy makes enemies of two sisters."
She trembled, controlled herself, and with a calm face murmured, "There are no enemies in the Voluptuous Army. Jealousy does not exist; I was sounding your heart. I, an enemy to Lucie, my sister cadet, whom I have always loved! You could not have believed that. Besides, if you know her, you owe it to me. I sent her to the Moulin-Rouge."
"How did you know I would go there?"
"Didn't you tell me," she replied, "that when you left me after dancing voluptuously, you ran to places where you could meet easy women?"
"I went to the Moulin-Rouge looking for one for the first time. I might have gone to the Jardin de Paris."
"In all those places I had set an officer of the Voluptuous Army with orders to accept you."
"How could they have recognized me?"
"By your picture, which they had."
"How could they get themselves accepted by me?"
"Through an intermediary placed in your path."
"Glomiret?"
"He wasn't one of them, and he acted quite of his own accord, preventing one of our people, one of your friends, from intervening to point out Lucie to you."
"And you, what were you doing?"
"I was waiting at our headquarters."
"Then your sister didn't take me to her own apartment?"
"Yes. To her apartment as commanding General."
"And it really was you whom I saw waltzing."
"You recognized me! Yes, and if my sister had not subjugated you as she did, at that moment, I would have run to you, to bring you the woman you desired so much and Lucie, next to us, would have taken the role Yvonne filled."
"Yvonne, her pretended maid."
"Yvonne is really her maid, and a lieutenant at the same time for her merit and qualities."
"You were dancing with a naked man, with a lover."
"And my sister already seemed to you to be a particularly fortunate adventure."
In spite of herself, there was bitterness in her tone. Then Leonard announced luncheon and the conversation was dropped.
At table, they chatted noncommittally, and master Leonard's judgment was lost in ridiculous suppositions.
He understood that this was a lady of the world, of society, and he was very flattered, changed completely by Madame de Mongellan's lures.
The two diners were able to speak of the Voluptuous Army in covered words.
"How long has it existed?" asked Emile.
"Since 1872, but under different names, and it is hardly more than five years since it attained this extensive growth. In the beginning, it was the creation of a husband and his wife, pleasure-loving, both of them, who wished to extend their means of pleasure by forming a group of voluptuous men and women. They met in a country house and sacrificed to Cupid in varied couples. The Society called itself, Union of Sectarians of Venus. Their resources proving insufficient for dresses, disguises, orgies and the desires they had imagined, the Sectarians of Venus fell into clandestine prostitution, and certain rather coarse adventures took place which drew the attention of the police. A raid was made upon an apartment on the Boulevard Malesherbes which they were using as a rendezvous, and the Order was dispersed for a time. Anita de Themin, a beautiful Venuisenne and founder of the Sectarians, made the acquaintance of a rich financier, who was not only taken by her charms but still more by the amorous liberties she took with her husband. He became interested in several members of the sect who had clung together, and they founded "The Disciples of Eros," which at the end of a short time became "The Republic of the Children of Eros," with, doubtlessly for contrast, a queen governed the material and passionate interests of the sect very seriously. Naturally, Anita was proclaimed queen and reigned over about two hundred subjects. She loved the voluptuous too much and resigned her royalty the same year, passing it to her principal lieutenant. They elected five successors, each retiring after a rocky exercise of voluptuous power, and Anita, still devoted to her idea, submitted the organization to a third transformation, six years ago, when the Voluptuous Army was created, with all its present organization."
"And Anita?"
"She is one of the Grand Mistresses who command conjointly with the Grand Masters."
"It is strange that such an enterprise should have been able to develop so extensively."
"The Voluptuous Army has in its treasury five million francs in specie and bonds, and possesses about three hundred millions in property. It has affiliations all over the world and really constitutes a power."
"Is it possible!"
"It is not the only association of its kind. It is on excellent terms with more than five amorous societies, of which the principal ones are: The Association of Demi-Virgins, The Social Communists of Gerando, The Sect of the Moon."
Luncheon finished, they returned to the salon.
"Here I am, a soldier awaiting your orders," said Emile.
"Orders! We don't give orders. We have officers merely in order to interest us more in the Army and to create discipline in pleasure. Here, the colonel disappeared, there remains only Lucette."
"At last!" he murmured.
"At last? You still want me then?"
"My blood is afire to love your ideas."
"Are we alone here?"
"We are our own masters."
"Then speak to me of love."
"Speak? Wouldn't it be better to act?"
"Act, if you prefer it, but win me, as you won Lucie."
"Lucie! You're jealous of her!"
"No, only I'm afraid I've let her take the place I wanted."
"Colonel of the Voluptuous Army, a child, a woman, you are lost in subtleties."
"Ah, Emile, Emile, undress me, that I may know if you vibrate as you did that evening at the Boutteville's."
"Undress you! I want to see again your dear legs in their frame of lace and pretty under-things."
"See them."
"Oh, delectable treasures!"
But, while he was playing under her skirts, she opened her corsage, undid the fastening of her skirts and appeared in all her nakedness. She wondered how to dominate his senses. It did displease her to abandon him to her sister whom she had considered in this affair as one of her subordinates, to her sister Lucie who, admittedly after she was in the Army, shone in the high Council, for her title of commanding General made her a Grand Mistress.
The two sisters, or rather the three of them, still a third belonging to the Army, in the person of Sister Saint-Lucie of the Cornflowers, had entered the amorous association at different times, had followed the same gradual rise, and sustained an unmeasured example of courage and soul.
An extraordinary family noted for its women as was that of the Callicini from which they descended.
Their father, Prince Oscar de Callicini, after a duel in Milano in which he killed one of his dearest friends, abandoned Italy and installed himself at Paris. He became a French citizen after his marriage with Mile, de la Rochecipaie. From this marriage had come Lucine, who became sister Sainte-Lucie, Lucette and Lucie.
The union remained a model one in which the princess, to her husband's great astonishment, observed exemplary wisdom and died a little after Lucie's birth without any breath of scandal having tainted her reputation as an honest woman.
To the great astonishment of her husband, for traditionally, all the Callicini had attached themselves through the whole course of history to imperious sirens, insatiable in love, unquenchable springs of the voluptuous who brought masculine strength into their acts by their science and ardor. The Callicini boasted of Messalina as one of their ancestors.
"My wife was an exception," cried the Prince, "and my three daughters must make up for the lost generation. I committed a misalliance in failing to continue the ancestral custom which commands the perpetual crossing of the blood of the Callicini with that of the Panderoni, at least among the first-born."
This fatherly exclamation attested the man's morality.
When Lucie was ten years old, he did not put her in the care of a governess but placed her for instruction under the direction of the Abbe Rectal, a young priest who had been recommended to him by one of his friends in Rome. After his first glance at the Abbe, he said:
"My, daughters will be in good hands. The man looks like a hunting dog."
As the three girls came of age they became pupils of the Abbe Rectal, well-appointed, well-pampered, and much respected. They had come at intervals of three years. Lucine was sixteen, Lucette thirteen and Lucie, ten when the first event occurred.
One evening, Prince Oscar, himself about forty-two at the time, sent for the Abbe and said to him in a voice that would have burned off the good man's surplice, if he'd been wearing one:
"At midnight yesterday you went into Lucine's room, and you didn't come out until morning. What happened? What important lesson did you have to give her?"
"Prince!"
"The fruit was ripe; you picked it. How did she behave?"
"Oh!"
"Come now, let's have no exclamations! You are the oldest daughter's lover. Did you take her hymen? You waited long enough, Abbe. A Callicini is ready for love at fourteen or fifteen years. Remember that and take less time over the others. You are receiving ten thousand francs for their care. You must take particular pains to escape the fatality which attends the knocking-up of a Callicini's first lover, so I shall give you twelve thousand but on condition that you do not thank me. You will prepare Lucine for my visit tomorrow night."
"You!"
"Take it or leave it. Realize that I may act for myself. For your mission, two bills of a thousand francs each as gratification."
Callicini was immensely rich. Abbe Rectal, astounded, swore absolute devotion to his whims, and Lucie, true to her race, declared herself proud of paternal attentions.
In Lucette's case, the Abbe remembered the prince's observations, and the little girl had hardly reached fifteen before she was given over to sensuality, cleverly provoked by her worthy preceptor. Immediately, the Abbe saw his allowance rise to fifteen thousand francs, and he received a further present of a hundred thousand the day when, having at length liberated Lucie from her virginity at the age of fifteen and a half, the Prince declared his mission over.
The three girls, having become women did not all submit to the paternal tenderness, transformed into incestuous tenderness. Lucine alone remained for a time to feed the sacred fire on the Prince's altar. Then he met Anita de The-min, enjoying the royalty of the Republic of Eros, who ceded to his luxurious passion. He arranged with the financier Herzogen to take his place with Lucine.
As Anita's lover he became part of the association, and more and more taken with this woman, he introduced her into his lodgings.
The beautiful Anita soon became Lucette's tender friend and drew the child, with her father's authorization, into the republic, over which she no longer exercised her royalty. It was her husband, Laurent de Themin, after Abbe Rectal, who took care of the girl.
Lucette's character was a trifle different from that of her older sister. She loved pleasure certainly, but she wished none the less to assure herself of a regular position. At sixteen, she married Etienne de Mongellan, considerably less rich than she, but decidedly amorous, and in six months of uninterrupted honey-moon, she saw him sicken and die, leaving her in a state of pregnancy. She wept for him five months, gave birth to her child and returned to the Republic of Eros, where, at the age of eighteen, she became the third queen.
Anita's creation was now in full swing. Composed of almost six hundred members, recruited from the rich, the aristocratic, from among independent and audacious people of intelligence, it looked like a dream of enchantments in which everyone exerted himself to the invention of distractions and pleasures. Many gave up their ordinary occupations to consecrate themselves to this work of love in which the voluptuous circulated in the greatest liberty.
For Lucette, the coronation ceremony was particularly beautiful. Anita continued to love her with passion, and Lucette saw everything through her eyes.
She exercised her power carefully, caused the adoption of measures of decorum and appearances to honor her, in order that she might shine, a luminous star of love, and there were ceremonies in which she might believe herself to be actually the possessor of a terrestrial power. She wore a diadem and the royal mantle. She commanded festivals of nudity in which they prostrated themselves on their knees as she passed. Burning declarations assailed her from every direction and there was enough to turn the head of the coolest person. She wanted to consecrate this temporary and elective royalty by prerogatives. She had herself surrounded by a guard of honour and drew about her a seraglio of men and women friends.
Her father said to her: "You're going too far, little one, you are Queen of Love, but not queen over minds and hearts."
"Love dominates minds and hearts, and the hole authorizes everything. Laurent wants them to adore mine in effigy and he speaks of having it moulded and exposing it in the festival hall."
"Laurent is very much in love with you. The power of the hole is ephemeral, and I see one rising on the horizon which is going to attract many fervent followers."
"Lucie! She is my sister, and further, she's one of those who adores me most."
"I have warned you, now profit by what I've said."
Lucette continued none the less to accentuate her authority and they began to cool towards her. Laurent was one of the first to calm his passion.
And then an event occurred which sowed trouble in the lives of Lucette and Lucie. Prince Oscar died in Anita's arms, and their sister Lucine entered the Convent of the Cornflowers.
Oscar's three daughters were deeply grieved by his death. They inherited his immense fortune. Lucie had married Horace Steinger, attache to an Embassy and a friend to the financier Herzogen. Probation of the will caused a considerable amount of difficulty because of outside interest, represented by the Convent, interested because of Lucine who had become Sister Sainte-Lucie, by Anita de Themin, the beneficiary of a fat legacy, and by Herzogen, acting in the interests of the Republic and Horace Steinger. All was arranged however, but Lucette had lost her principal strength when her father was gone. And this was followed by a rupture with Anita. There was a little insurrection in the Republic, and she had to abdicate her royalty which passed to a demimondaine, but recently was admitted to the association. All that had been thus gained in high gallantry went to an English girl, Miss Eva de Chainons.
Lucette's role declined from this hour until the transformation into the Voluptuous Army, when warned by experience, she became colonel over the regiment of the right bank.
Between the sisters, Lucette and Lucie, the accord had always been maintained, close and tender. Lucie had not experienced the reverses in amorous life that her sister had undergone.
Affiliated with the Republic of Eros from the time of her unmaidening, she remained for some time a satellite and then began to fly with her own wings. When her sister Lucine took the veil, she replaced her next to Herzogen, whose dominating passion she had remained from that time onward. On the other hand, she succeeded Lucette as Anita's lover and received the title Councillor of Eros, for the time that the association observed the Republican regime. Then, on its constitution as an Army, she was named commandant of the Monceau Quartier, and a little later, Commanding General and Grand Mistress.
Lucine, Lucette, Lucie, worthy descendants of a long line of Callicini. From love of them, no one was ever cured but by death or cloistration in the most severe orders.
All three had proceeded in a different manner and had arrived at the same results. They could not be forgotten.
With Lucine, it was an envelloping love, spreading intellectual languishment and torpor over her lover, with a horror of emptiness and solitude if the loved mistress went away. With Lucette, love was passionate, turbulent, exalting, and over-powering, throwing the man into a perpetual over-excitation. Suddenly his nerves snapped, and his very mind seemed to have died. Weakness succeeding exasperation made him believe that all feeling was ended. With Lucie, it was a love that conquered all weakness, a love dominating the lover and giving him power, a love which rose again of its own accord, an inextinguishable love feeding on the female fluid, to the overturning of the masculine fluid, and carrying them both to the union of the two bodies in a continual flux of sensations which renewed themselves momentarily.
And of the three sisters, Lucine and Lucie retained their lovers, while Lucette alone saw them escape her sometimes. From this had risen tendencies to separate from each other in scenes of love, in order to avoid clashing.
Lucette, dropped this custom for once, had let her sister Lucie attack Emile to convert him and lead him into the Voluptuous Army.
At this hour, with all fastenings undone, she felt her ardent lover between her thighs, pursuing her with an undying constancy through the world's balls and fetes. She wondered sadly if this victory would remain hers or if it would rather go to her sister.
Emile breathed in the fragrance of the satiny flesh; his blood was hot and he was over-excited by the morning's lesson. He blossomed under the woman's abandon, in this revelation of her charms, and he played in an augmenting fever with the treasures he uncovered.
"There is no longer any Voluptuous Army between us," she murmured. "Emile, Emile, my lover, your passion penetrates me. Come to pleasure. Come to intoxication."
She rose and all her clothing fell to her feet, even her chemise, and she appeared a magnificent living statue in the glory of her flesh and of her pose, leaning above the young man whose hands caressed her everywhere, and he replied:
"At last, at last, I find Lucette again, the Lucette I have dimly perceived, whose mocking of my torments turns to compassion for the love that she provokes."
"Ah, speak, speak, and love me."
"Speak!" He was preparing to remove his clothing when a knock came at the door.
Afraid, Lucette sought a corner where she might hide herself.
"The importunate devil!" cried Emile. "Don't be frightened; nobody will come in. I'll go see."
"If you open the door, they'll see me."
"No go over on the side, behind that curtain and no one will be able to see you."
At the door, he perceived the obsequious Leonard. He forced him backward.
"Monsieur," said the domestic, "there's another lady who wants to speak with you immediately."
"Another lady!"
"Here is her card. She is not an unknown. She was here the other day."
"Lucie!" he cried when he read it. "Where is she?"
"In your study. Ah, Monsieur, too many women!"
He shrugged his shoulders and without excusing himself from Lucette ran to join Lucie in his study.
CHAPTER XIII
MASTER LEONARD'S EYES glistened with malice. The rascal had most certainly looked through the keyhole and seen something, for, when Emile had disappeared in the direction of his study, he bent down again to see, and made a grimace over the curtain which, hanging on the other side of the hole, made it possible for him to see.
He got up again immediately, and without being disturbed, walked through two rooms, arriving at another door leading into the salon, through which he could again contemplate Lucette in the superbness of her nudity, standing before a glass smiling at herself.
"The devil!" he murmured, "what a splendid creature! Oh, if Rosalie were only here, I should show her that, and it would have its effect. I'm sure she'd let me kiss her then. She's peculiar, Rosalie is, and since she's my wife, she wants me to respect her. There's a women to respect! Ah, what a woman, what a woman, and what a good time Monsieur must be having! There aren't better ones in pictures. Good, look at her caressing her hole, the little devil, I'm going off in my trousers. Oh, what's she doing? She's impatient. She isn't going to open the door, is she? Yes, she's opening it! Oh, oh, Monsieur with the other lady!"
Poor Leonard's hair stood on end. What was going to happen?
Emile had gone to his study and found Lucie there, hiding a photograph of herself that she was bringing him. But she hadn't time to conceal it, before he threw himself upon her:
"You! Your sister Lucette is here!"
"Ah!"
She held the photograph in her hand and tried to jam it into her pocket, but he seized her arm.
"What have you there?"
"I was bringing you a picture of myself in the nude, but since you doubtless have my sister in reality, it isn't necessary for me to give it to you."
"Lucie!"
"Oh, I'm not jealous!"
"Then come with us."
"I do not refuse."
"And put the picture in this drawer."
He took her in his arms and their lips approached, gripping each other in a long embrace.
"I want you," she said, "to love me more with love than voluptuousness."
"Oh, I love you with love."
"And Lucette?"
"She is yours, of your blood."
"She was in your life before me."
"Come."
"Another kiss. In the salon, you know, my role is going to be insignificant. There mustn't be hatred between two sisters, between two sisters like Lucette and myself, you understand."
"And if I want you, too?"
"You shan't have me today."
"Oh, Lucie, Lucie just a bit of you. I'm like a starved dog; I must have your flesh!"
"You shall have it through your lips, but you will play with Lucette. Come, come, let's not wait any longer."
When they appeared, Lucette stood as if glued to the spot, but Lucie threw herself on her knees, put her arms around her legs, kissed her belly, her navel, her buttocks, and murmured:
"Oh, how long it is, my love, since I have heaped caresses on your many beauties."
Lucie's caresses acting upon Emile, he knelt near her and said, "I was adoring her when you came and my adoration for such a work of heaven is augmented by your own."
Lucette, sighed, smiled, and extending her hand to her sister, replied, "Get up, Lucie, join yourself with us, and let us unite for his happiness."
"What would I be next to you, dear, dear sister. You are so beautiful."
"He loves you, and he will love me."
"He loved you, he will love me no longer."
"Let the voluptuous carry us away, cherie, and let us think only of it."
Lucie rose and in a few instants was as naked as her sister whom she proceeded to tear from Emile's mad embraces, clasping her about the waist and dragging her to a divan on which they fell in each other's arms.
The picture was dizzying. Entwined about each other's throats, they formed but one compact mass of flesh, and Lucie's back and buttocks shone on top, agitated in assaults like throes of two lovers uniting their clitorises. Emile saw Lucette's hands run over Lucie's hole and her fingers play with it as they would a piano. His knees shook, and he all but fainted.
Finally words broke the silence and told of their feelings:
"Lucette, Lucette, you're mine before you belong to anyone else. Don't you feel it? Don't you know it?"
"My Lucie, my Lucie, you have always been our royal lover. Oh, you're driving me mad; you're taking me; you're really taking me."
"My Lucette, our flesh is pure for loving. Tell me, do you love me?"
"I love you."
"I too, love you. I hold you, you play on me and you will play on him! Ah! let him come! Emile, what are you waiting for?"
Naked himself, now, and all the doors locked, he stood panting before this feminine couple and could not move, so much did the undulation of their bodies agitate him. He tried to separate them. Lucie rose and pushed herself over to one side and threw him upon Lucette. His tail engulfed between the young woman's thighs, he beat upon them with such violent blows that suddenly they contracted, playing in a spasm of madness.
A motionless statue, in a pose of seraphic domination, Lucie assisted in their gambolling, one hand on her breasts, the other upon her thighs, like a Venus in flesh and blood, descended from Olympus.
And Leonard, behind the door, felt a rattle in his throat as his hand dove into his trousers. He masturbated madly, murmuring:
"And to me alone, to me alone, such things happen! Why isn't Rosalie here! Go, you pig, you've filled my trousers! Oh, what are they going to do now! Oh, Monsieur, two women, and what women! The devil, the red-headed one is playing with his bung. I'd give her mine to feel! And they aren't done yet! He's given his place to the girl's sister. They go well in that family! Look at them beginning their play again! They're rubbing their holes together, oh, if that continues! Good, Monsieur is always stiff, and he's licking the hole of the woman who's fingering him! But what are they doing now? Oh, la, la, I'm stiff again myself. I'll have to untie the knot again, slut that I am. Leonard, old boy, be careful, get out of here and don't make an ass of yourself. Good, the red-head is giving place and Monsieur begins again; they've the devil in their bodies. Oh, but it's good to see a woman screwed that way, and Monsieur is a wonder at it. I shall congratulate him. Imbecile, then he'd know you'd been spying on him! Oh, oh, they play, they toss about. Oh, look at them in the bottom of the divan. That's well done! Oh, what vigor the brunette has; she makes the red-head look like a do-nothing! She won't let him take it out. Go on, maker of history, how beautiful she is. Oh, how good they are, and to people of my taste. And there you are, you've got to begin again yourself, and shake the lily or it'll go off without you. Thunder! Is he going to screw her in the bung? Always playing, the slut, and still he doesn't finish. Now, he's pushing her over backwards! What pretty, pretty holes! He's got to lick the red-headed one's while he throws his lump into the other! She throws herself in his face, the beggar. Ah, God help me, I'm coming, I'm coming, my poor trousers! Ah, I'm like a grasshopper; it's the juice of an elephant I'm losing, so much comes out, oh, oh, oh, Rosalie, to your health, you devil! I've got to get out of here. These pigs will drive me out of my head."
The festival lasted until late afternoon and the two sisters left in perfect accord with each other.
Emile suspected his valet's scandalous conduct and said to him, "Monsieur Leonard, it's quite probable that from now on, I shall receive a number of feminine visitors. If that bothers your honesty, if that troubles your good manners, I authorize you and Rosalie to seek other positions.
"Monsieur wishes to discharge us?"
"No, I merely give you your liberty. I do not wish to be reproached for your damnation."
"My damnation!"
"You may not find my relations suitable to you."
"Monsieur is jesting."
"And since I will not tolerate either your observations or your surveillance, I make the suggestion."
"Monsieur may be assured! We are too devoted not to excuse whatever distractions he may see fit to enjoy."
"Then, no looking through the keyholes! Ah, you spy, you wet the carpet in the smoking-room near the door of which I have noted some spots which weren't there this morning!"
Leonard became crimson and could say nothing. Emile added:
