Odile told me this final part of her story one night.
We had slowly grown accustomed to the routine of the institute: Mlle Clery taught science and mathematics, while Mlle Renouf, the headmistress, taught us Latin and Greek. Juliette, the prefect from our year, tyrannised the students. Marc Antoine tended to his garden, appeared very scared of the girls, and never spoke to anyone.
Odile and I spent a lot of time together, and it wasn't infrequent that, after the lights were turned out, one snuck into the other's bed to talk more.
Odile told me that, on her way to her exile to punish her cuntiness, she had escaped the care of her maid who was accompanying her and had walked for a few days, without food or sleep, so that she could find Hercule.
He had been her dream for those weeks during which she had indulged her desires with the other workers at the foundry, and now she couldn't bear the thought of not being able to have him.
She knew she could find other men wherever she went, but he had a special quality she knew was extraordinary and rare to find. He was of gigantic proportions: so much taller was his head among the crowd; much broader were his shoulders; his hands were as big as frying pans. But it was the feral quality of his aspect that attracted her the most.
There was something dangerous and scary about him. Clothes appeared odd on his frame and fitted him ill, as if he hadn't been shaped for such convention. His eyes rolled around like those of a hungry beast, and the other men eschewed his company, as if they feared he would revolt against their society.
She wanted to give himself to him. She wanted to be a willing victim to a sacrifice.
Odile walked into town after the sun had gone down behind the horizon and the sky had turned dark.
She didn't know where he lived. She walked through the streets, looking around, searching for any clue of his presence. The privation of the past few days made her feverish, so that Odile knew not what she was doing.
A group of people was walking towards a tavern.
'My father's workers,' Odile said, approaching them, 'where are they?'
The people stepped back as they saw her, as if scared of her.
Odile wondered whether they knew who she was and whether they also knew that her family had banished her. Or maybe it was her ripped dress and her tangled hair.
'The men of the foundry…' Odile repeated. 'Tell me now. Where do they live?'
The passers-by didn't know or wouldn't say.
Odile kept walking. She asked anybody.
'I'm searching for a man... He works at the foundry…'
Odile didn't even know his name. In her mind, she had named him Hercule, but such a name was certainly not what his mother had chosen for him.
Finally, someone told her that most of the workers lived in the shacks near the river.
Odile ran towards the river. It didn't matter to her whether her father would eventually find her. He could even murder her, for all she cared. But Odile wanted to be fucked. Fucked by Hercule.
She found the dwellings that had been pointed out to her only a few minutes outside the town. These were low constructions made of dark timber; they appeared shapeless and disorganised. The lights of the lamps within cast a gloomy halo and were occasionally blanked off by the shadow of a person moving about within the room.
Through these little huts ran a maze of narrow paths of unpaved roads. They were muddy, and a great stench of mould and rotten fruit hung in the air.
Odile stopped for a moment as she came before these constructions. What was she doing? She was leaving behind everything she knew, all the comforts and the certainties she had enjoyed all her life, and she was now stepping into a world she had learned to fear. It was a world of constantly pregnant women, of people crammed in small spaces, of poverty, of insufficient food, of dirt. Her father often spoke about it, as if he was telling her the imaginary tales of Cambrinus or Blue Beard. Such places had grown into her imagination to contain many great dangers, and she was now somehow repelled by some imaginary enchantment.
For a moment, Odile could not step further. Then, the enchantment was broken, for this place contained the great dangers of fairy tales, but also all the excitement.
She knocked on the first door.
A woman.
She had a haggard look on her face. She couldn't have been much older than thirty but looked many years older. She leant on the door, as if two feet to stand on were not enough.
'Please, I'm looking for a man. He works at the foundry,' Odile explained.
The woman laughed loudly:
'Everyone here works at the foundry.'
As she spoke, she kept glancing back at who knows what behind her shoulder.
'He's very tall,' Odile continued.
The woman regarded her with suspicion, then she said:
'Yes, I believe I know whom you're talking of… But what do you want of him?'
Odile could be sure the woman didn't know whom she meant, but, in her heated desperation, she was grasping at any certainty that was offered her.
'I beg you, madam,' Odile said. 'I must see him now.'
The woman scratched her chin and mumbled:
'Well, at this hour… I don't want anybody to say that I encourage you to bother a good worker…'
Now, another person came to the door. A man. He stood next to the woman. His nose and his cheeks were very red, and his eyes were teary. His shirt was partly unbuttoned, and the hemming was hanging loose outside his pants.
'Who is this?' he said.
The woman replied:
'She's looking… for someone.'
The man shook his head:
'So? Come back in.'
The woman gave him a meaningful look and made a gesture, rubbing her thumb and index.
Odile was quick to say:
'I have no money. I haven't even eaten for two days.'
'Who are you looking for?' the man asked.
The woman began to protest, but the man gave her a slap on the cheek and intimated her to be quiet and said:
'Why don't you go inside?'
The woman began making a big ruckus, pleading that she had been injured, that she was always on the receiving end of her husband's wrath, and that men would forget their duties towards their wives as soon as a pretty girl showed up.
'I'm after a man who works at the foundry,' Odile explained. 'He's very tall. Taller than you. Taller than any man I've ever seen.'
The man looked at Odile with some surprise, then he shrugged his shoulders and said:
'Oh, him… He lives close to the river. There's a little cart near his door. Good luck.'
Odile thanked the man, who lazily turned back and walked back inside.
'What did you tell her for?' the woman whined, following him without shutting the door. She clung to his arm, badgering him loudly.
He gave her a push.
'Just be quiet for once!'
Odile turned her head embarrassed at the scene.
Inside the house, the quarrel was continuing. Now, the sound of a broken dish was heard. The woman screamed. The two were now arguing and threatening each other.
Odile took the first little path that departed from that place and kept walking between the houses.
The view of that fight had redoubled her fears of that place. And yet, she walked further in.
The narrow passages were dark. Now and then, the sound of the river was heard, and she knew to turn this way or that way. That sound of the clear water running through the valley seemed not to belong to that place.
From inside the houses came the noises of forks scratching plates, of objects being moved, of a couple making love. Every sound was coloured with the dark hues of Odile's terror. Every noise was the roar of a lion.
She hastened her walk when she saw a shadow crawl out of a house or heard a door open. Her heart was beating fast, and she was now filled with a great terror.
Odile felt lost in that tangle of walkways and passages that often led nowhere, and sometimes split and turned on themselves.
She could barely see anything in the darkness that filled the little village.
She ran her hand against the walls of the houses, feeling the rough surface of the wood, hitting drainpipes and metal buckets hung on a nail.
Tears began to stream down her cheeks. She felt she was lost. The sound of the river now came from her right, now from her left. It was sometimes behind her, so that more than once she turned on her feet, only to perceive its mumble from the opposite side.
Eventually, she got to a point where the houses ended. She could see the river. She counted the houses on that opened onto that side. She looked for a little cart.
There! There it was.
Odile walked and, without any hesitation, knocked on the door.
Then, without waiting further, she walked in.
The inside of the small construction appeared to consist of a single room. On one side was a table, on the opposite wall a large bed. There was a cupboard with a small cooker. The air smelled of cabbage and boiled meat. There was also the smell of human bodies and tobacco.
Around the table were a few people: a woman, a few children, and, at the head, Hercule.
Odile looked at him, without saying a word. Panting. Her eyes wouldn't waver.
Hercule stood up.
'Out!' he said. 'All of you. Now.'
The woman who had been eating next to him looked up.
The man was staring at Odile. His mandible was working, as if he was tasting some foreign flavour.
The woman now looked towards Odile, then she too stood up.
She picked up a little baby and headed towards the door.
The other children, some looked at the father, some at the mother, some regarded Odile with great curiosity.
'Out!' barked Hercule.
The children quickly raced to the door.
The door behind Odile was now shut.
It was only her and Hercule in the room.
He looked immense. Too big for the room. Too tall for the low ceiling. Too wide for the sparse and yet crammed furniture. His eyes were wide: the white circled all around the irises, as the man studied the girl. His nostrils flared like those of a horse before a race.
All of a sudden, Odile realised the madness of her actions. How could she put herself in this situation?
Only a few days before, she lived in a comfortable home. She had nice clothes. Everything was done for her.
Now, she was in a small and dirty shack. She had given herself to a man, silently giving him permission to do what he wanted with her.
Her desire was nowhere to be found now: it had been all a dream. Now, she could only feel her heart pumping madling in her ears. She was unable to breathe properly. She couldn't move. She couldn't think of a way out.
The man made a step towards her.
No, no, no. Odile began to shake her head.
The man still held her gaze. He advanced some more.
He adjusted his pants, then he started to massage his crotch.
Odile felt small, powerless, and insignificant.
But the man looked at her like she was all important, like a glass of water on a hot day.
'Take your clothes off,' he said in a raucous voice.
Odile shook her head again:
'Please, no…'
'I want to see…' he said.
The man took one more step and ripped her shirt. Her round breasts fell out. He contemplated them for a moment, then he took them in his hands and felt them.
Odile held her breath. He was but a few inches away from her. She could smell him: she could smell his breath in his mouth, the sweat under his armpits, the saltiness of his skin.
She gasped but made no noise when he picked her up and carried her across the room.
She was no lying on his bed.
'Take it all off,' he said.
Odile was shaking. He struggled to get her fingers to move properly, but she did as he told her.
Meanwhile, he took his shirt off. His chest and his stomach were covered in thick, black fur.
Then, it was the turn of his trousers.
Odile looked on as his penis emerged from underneath the cloth.
'O God,' she whispered. 'Please, don't… I can't…'
The man's dick was long and thick, with a pronounced bend to the side. It hung flaccid.
Odile was now naked. She stared at the man, and he stared back.
'Come here,' he said.
Odile knew not what to do. She feared that a refusal to his orders would result in a punch or a kick. He had seen the other couple before. She knew how these people lived.
His skin was dark from the sun and the heat of the furnace.
She got off the bed and crouched before him. She ran her hand on his stomach. The hair covered most of it and ran down to the base of is penis. It covered his thighs. She felt the coarse fur, and felt the warm skin underneath go up and down as the man inhaled and exhaled.
'Touch it,' he said.
'I don't think I can… Really…' she protested.
'Come on,' he said with a decisive tone.
Odile's hand moved down. Her fingers twitched as they moved to the soft skin of the man's dick. She ran it on his balls, and then behind them along the perineum, moving through the dense thicket, reaching the muscular anus.
The man made an appreciative sound.
Odile watched the dick give a little jolt, as blood began to flow into the organ. She touched it with her other hand, as she kept stroking his balls with the other.
'God, it's too big,' she whined.
'Yeah…' he said. 'And now you're going to take it all.'
'Please…' she began to say, but the man had laid a hand on the back of her head and gently pushed her mouth towards his crotch.
Odile felt that the delicate pressure was a warning shot, that he could force her, if he wanted to.
She bent down with her mouth to reach the tip of his dick and gave it a suck. Then, she wrapped her lips around its end. Odile moved back and forth in small bursts.
The man's organ was getting engorged.
Odile felt its warmth under her lips. She felt it become stiffer and harder in her hand.
That great shaft rose slowly.
Odile kept massaging it and sucking it timidly.
'I want you to take it,' he said again, this time with some impatience.
Odile moved forward, making more of the glans into her mouth. It was as large as a plum, and she could barely open her mouth enough to make it go in.
The man, above her, gave a little groan. After a moment, he applied more pressure with his hand, and Odile, obediently, moved down.
The gagged as the man's dick moved down into her mouth cavity.
Odile looked up at the man, hoping for mercy. He appeared blurry through the tears that were welling up in her eyes.
'Again,' he said. 'Again!'
She nodded, feeling she now had no power to refuse anything, and resumed her activity.
The man kept holding his hand on the back of her head and forcing her to go deeper with each movement, and, each time, his dick slid lower and lower into her throat.
Odile emerged, needing air, which was granted, but then moved back down.
'See how hard you got me?' the man said, holding now his dick in his hand.
Odile regarded that large organ. She knew the man was aroused now, and that he would want to move to different activities.
'Please, can I suck it some more?' she said, fearing what would come next.
The man picked her up from one arm and made her lie on the bad.
'O my Lord!' the girl said in a piteous voice, 'I won't be able to take it. Don't you see how small I am?'
The man placed his hand on her knee, and Odile spread her legs.
'You're going to be nice and tight, I think,' he said as a reply.
The man rested the length of his cock on her stomach.
'See?' he said.
His organ wasn't just thick, thicker than she imagined any man could be, but it was also so long that its length ran from her pussy all the way to that space between her breast on her sternum.
How was it going to fit inside her? She would surely die!
Odile bit her lip and waited as the man lay between her legs. She looked at the ceiling; then, she began to feel the tip of his cock probing around her pussy, feeling the thick labia, moving back and forth, searching for the opening.
The man guided its penis with his hand, holding the glans with his fingers, trying to insert it inside Odile. After a moment, and finding her tight, he began to push with his glans at the base of her vulva, right before the thin strip of flesh that separates the birth canal from that second path that's devoted to other uses.
Odile was filled with fear, but she made no attempt to fight him off. Then, she felt her vagina open, all of a sudden, and the man's dick move in.
'Tight, tight,' he mumbled, but he pushed further in, with no hesitation. 'I guess this will have to do,' he said eventually.
The man was now moving back and forth.
How tight that fit was!
Odile felt a great pressure inside of her. She moaned and asked for mercy, but, small at first, a second sensation started to arise. Soon, her moans acquired a different quality. The smarting of the penetration was now mutating to a warm, comforting fire. Odile started to move under the man, searching for the cock as he moved back and forth. What had been a great pain had quickly turned into a necessary balm.
'O God, you're so big!' she said.
'You like it, eh?' he asked.
She embraced his big bulk with her arms, wanting to hold him. She spread her legs wider; she moved them upwards to offer herself more completely.
'Yes…' she said.
He moved back and stopped for a moment.
'Say it!'
'Put it back, please!' she complained.
'Say it!' he repeated.
'I like it. I like your big, fat cock. I want you to fuck me with it!' she replied.
He then put it all back in, even deeper than he had been so far, with a strong, assured movement.
'Oh fuck!' she cried, feeling a great rush of pleasure erupt inside her.
It was unexpected, and so much greater than any similar sensation she had felt with other men, and it made all her muscles wriggle uncontrollably, as he kept fucking her.
'Ahh! I'm coooooming! Fuuuuck!'
He kept going, almost uninterested in her reaction, then he took his dick out of her and gave it a flick so that the dew that covered it sprayed on her chest.
'You know what this is?'
Odile greedily leapt onto it, giving it a good lick.
Those were the traces of her pleasure. It was her lubricant to take that great assault, mixed with the juices of her orgasm. She felt her own briny flavour mixed with the earthiness of the man's odour.
Then, unable to wait any longer, she turned around, standing on all fours, offering her behind to him.
He pried her ass cheeks with his hands. He gave her a good lick.
'You're nice and clean…' he said appreciatively. 'You taste nice.'
'Please…' she begged.
The man laughed.
Odile looked back at him, pleading to have him inside her again.
He grasped at her hair, so that she could tilt her head back. Her back arched, and her ass rose.
The man was in almost with no difficulty. He held onto the base of her hair, but there was no need to force her in that position: Odile was eagerly pushing back with her buttocks to anticipate his dick and aid the penetration.
Her breasts hung loosely, and she felt them move in big swings underneath her chest with each push of the man behind her.
In this position, the penetration was even deeper, and the natural curve of that organ reached different parts within the girl, gifting her new sensations.
'Ah… Ah… Ah…' she said with each push.
Her tone was almost monotonous. She felt she had lost her mind. She felt as if inebriated by the great pleasure she was receiving. But now, a new wave of pleasure began to grow inside her, stronger and louder.
'Ooowh!' she whined, as if overwhelmed by what was brewing inside her.
The man was now grunting loudly with each movement.
Odile now hunched her back and began shaking.
'Don't stop! Please!' she cried.
The man pushed even deeper.
His glans was pushing through the canal and hitting against some sensitive membrane inside Odile.
Now, the girl gave a loud scream:
'Pleeeease! Aaaaaaah!'
The man was now unable to restrain himself further, and Odile felt the warm semen burst out of him inside her.
Devoid of strength, she abandoned herself on the bed, and he lay on top of her, now and then giving a weak push, as his pleasure subsided.
When the man slid out of her, Odile, disappointed that it was all over, gave a little:
'Ow?'
She then reached between her thighs with two fingers. She explored the inside of her vagina, which was numb. She felt the sticky liquid her had left there, and, having collected some with two fingers, she brought it to her mouth, savouring it.
'After that day, I began with that family,' Odile told me, 'I cleaned and washed and cooked, which I did happily and without complaints, regardless my superior station. The wife regarded me as nothing more than a nuisance and rarely spoke to me, but she never asked me to leave. When the man felt the heat beginning to burn inside him, he would chase her and the children out and would take me. Each time, the pleasure was immense. I never believed I could take his manhood to its fullest, but a woman's body is capable of miraculous things, if spurred by desire.
'Every time, it was like being mauled by a bear. I always feared at the beginning of our congresses, but he would leave me filled with satisfaction, upon conclusion. He always came inside me, whether it was my mouth or my vagina, without any regard to its consequences. I still marvel that I never got pregnant.
'For a while, I believe this was going to be my life, and I didn't mind it if it was, but, after a week, my father found me. I was dragged out of the village and sent to this school.
'My family moved to Paris out of shame of what I had done. The foundry was sold. God knows what has happened to my man.
'I have been warned, and I can believe this is not an empty threat, that I am here at the school only because of my mother interceded for me. If any further infraction is committed, my next residence will be an asylum for insane women affected by hysteria and nymphomania, out of which I will leave only as a cadaver after my death.'
I listened to the conclusion of her story, tucked into bed next to Odile. I considered it, then laughed merrily and said:
'I don't believe a word of it.'
So, my companion laughed too and gave me a big kick which landed me on the floor, where I kept laughing for a while.