Name: READ ME 2007-09-04 0:33 ID:SMrOt9wC
Born into the Church, I dwelled so to speak more in the House of God than in our own; I helped my mother arrange the chairs, I seconded the sacristans in their various operations, I would have said Mass had that been necessary, although I had not yet attained my fifth year.
One day, returning from my holy occupations, my sister asked me whether I had yet encountered Father Laurent....
I said I had not.
"Well, look out," said she, "he’s on the watch for you, I know he is, he wants to show you what he showed me. Don’t run away, look him straight in the eye without being afraid, he won’t touch you, but he’ll show you something very funny, and if you let him do it he’ll pay you a lot. There are more than fifteen of us around here whom he’s shown it to. That’s what he likes best, and he’s given a present to us all."
You may well imagine, Messieurs, that nothing more was needed, not only to keep me from fleeing Father Laurent, but to induce me to seek him out; at that age the voice of modesty is a whisper at best, and its silence until the time one has left the tutelage of Nature is certain proof, is it not, that this factitious sentiment is far less the product of that original mother’s training than it is the fruit of education? I flew instantly to the church, and as I was crossing a little court located between the entrance of the churchyard and the monastery, I bumped squarely into Father Laurent. He was a monk about forty, with a very handsome face. He stopped me.
"Whither are you going, Francon?" he asked.
"To arrange the chairs, Father."
"Never fear, never fear, your mother will attend to them," said he. "Come, come along with me," and he drew me toward a sequestered chamber hard by the place. "I am going to show you something you have never seen."
I follow him, we enter, he shuts the door and, having posted me directly opposite him:
"Well, Francon," says he, pulling a monstrous prick from his drawers, an instrument which nearly toppled me with fright; "tell me," he continues, frigging himself, "have you ever seen anything to equal it?... that’s what they call a prick, my little one, yes, a prick... it’s used for fucking, and what you’re going to see, what’s going to flow out of it in a moment or two, is the seed wherefrom you were created. I’ve shown it to your sister, I’ve shown it to all the little girls of your age, lend a hand, help it along, help get it out, do as your sister does, she’s got it out of me twenty times or more.... I show them my prick, and then what do you suppose I do? I squirt the fuck in their face.... That’s my passion, my child, I have no other... and you’re about to behold it."
And at the same time I felt myself completely drenched in a white spray, it soaked me from head to foot, some drops of it had leapt even into my eyes, for my little head just came to the height of his fly. However, Laurent was gesticulating. "Ah! the pretty fuck, the dear fuck I am losing," he cried, "why, look at you! You’re covered with it." And gradually regaining control of himself, he calmly put his tool away and decamped, slipping twenty sous into my hand and suggesting that I bring him any little companions I might happen to have.
As you may readily fancy, I could not have been more eager to run and tell everything to my sister; she wiped me dry, taking the greatest care to overlook none of the spots, and she who had enabled me to earn my little fortune did not fail to demand half of my wages. Instructed by this example, I did not fail, in the hope of a similar division of the spoils, to round up as many little girls for Father Laurent as I could find. But having brought him one with whom he was already familiar, he turned her away, the while giving me three sous by way of encouragement.
"I never see the same one twice, my child," he told me, "bring me some I don’t know, never any of those who say they’ve already had dealings with me."
I managed more successfully; in the space of three months, I introduced Father Laurent to more than twenty new girls, with whom, for the sake of his pleasure, he employed the identical proceedings he had with me. Together with the stipulation that they be strangers to him, there was another relative for age, and it appeared to be of infinite importance: he had no use for anything younger than four or older than seven. And my little fortune could not have been faring better when my sister, noticing that I was encroaching upon her domain, threatened to divulge everything to my mother if I did not put a stop to this splendid commerce; I had to give up Father Laurent.
One day, returning from my holy occupations, my sister asked me whether I had yet encountered Father Laurent....
I said I had not.
"Well, look out," said she, "he’s on the watch for you, I know he is, he wants to show you what he showed me. Don’t run away, look him straight in the eye without being afraid, he won’t touch you, but he’ll show you something very funny, and if you let him do it he’ll pay you a lot. There are more than fifteen of us around here whom he’s shown it to. That’s what he likes best, and he’s given a present to us all."
You may well imagine, Messieurs, that nothing more was needed, not only to keep me from fleeing Father Laurent, but to induce me to seek him out; at that age the voice of modesty is a whisper at best, and its silence until the time one has left the tutelage of Nature is certain proof, is it not, that this factitious sentiment is far less the product of that original mother’s training than it is the fruit of education? I flew instantly to the church, and as I was crossing a little court located between the entrance of the churchyard and the monastery, I bumped squarely into Father Laurent. He was a monk about forty, with a very handsome face. He stopped me.
"Whither are you going, Francon?" he asked.
"To arrange the chairs, Father."
"Never fear, never fear, your mother will attend to them," said he. "Come, come along with me," and he drew me toward a sequestered chamber hard by the place. "I am going to show you something you have never seen."
I follow him, we enter, he shuts the door and, having posted me directly opposite him:
"Well, Francon," says he, pulling a monstrous prick from his drawers, an instrument which nearly toppled me with fright; "tell me," he continues, frigging himself, "have you ever seen anything to equal it?... that’s what they call a prick, my little one, yes, a prick... it’s used for fucking, and what you’re going to see, what’s going to flow out of it in a moment or two, is the seed wherefrom you were created. I’ve shown it to your sister, I’ve shown it to all the little girls of your age, lend a hand, help it along, help get it out, do as your sister does, she’s got it out of me twenty times or more.... I show them my prick, and then what do you suppose I do? I squirt the fuck in their face.... That’s my passion, my child, I have no other... and you’re about to behold it."
And at the same time I felt myself completely drenched in a white spray, it soaked me from head to foot, some drops of it had leapt even into my eyes, for my little head just came to the height of his fly. However, Laurent was gesticulating. "Ah! the pretty fuck, the dear fuck I am losing," he cried, "why, look at you! You’re covered with it." And gradually regaining control of himself, he calmly put his tool away and decamped, slipping twenty sous into my hand and suggesting that I bring him any little companions I might happen to have.
As you may readily fancy, I could not have been more eager to run and tell everything to my sister; she wiped me dry, taking the greatest care to overlook none of the spots, and she who had enabled me to earn my little fortune did not fail to demand half of my wages. Instructed by this example, I did not fail, in the hope of a similar division of the spoils, to round up as many little girls for Father Laurent as I could find. But having brought him one with whom he was already familiar, he turned her away, the while giving me three sous by way of encouragement.
"I never see the same one twice, my child," he told me, "bring me some I don’t know, never any of those who say they’ve already had dealings with me."
I managed more successfully; in the space of three months, I introduced Father Laurent to more than twenty new girls, with whom, for the sake of his pleasure, he employed the identical proceedings he had with me. Together with the stipulation that they be strangers to him, there was another relative for age, and it appeared to be of infinite importance: he had no use for anything younger than four or older than seven. And my little fortune could not have been faring better when my sister, noticing that I was encroaching upon her domain, threatened to divulge everything to my mother if I did not put a stop to this splendid commerce; I had to give up Father Laurent.