Marcelline had grown up in Canada. Her father was engaged in various trades: minerals, whale oil, textiles.
Her family had recently moved to France. This apparently had been Marcelline's mother's desire for many years. The woman had been raised in Canada, but, having been born in Paris, had always retained the notion of being "pure French" and that Canada was less than any of the departments of her birth country: it was hideous; it was wild; it was uncouth.
So, as soon as she was married to Marcelline's father, she had begun an incessant campaign to relocate to France.
Wasn't he wealthy? Wasn't he very important? Then, why not do it? Why live like hawkers, trying to sell whatever trinkets people in that barren land demanded, when they could enjoy the life of aristocrats? They could go to the theatre, wear the latest fashion, hear World news first-hand.
The campaign lasted over two decades. Finally, Marcelline's father capitulated. The family moved to Paris, and Marcelline was put in the institute that came highly recommended from some acquaintance of her parents.
Marcelline had therefore joined very late in the degree and knew nobody. She was not particularly pretty, nor witty, nor intelligent. Her wealth was not such to demand reverence, at least when compared to the fortunes that some of the other students could boast about.
After a few months, she still had made no deep friendships with any of the other students.
I often saw her alone, staring into the distance. I wondered what she thought about. If she happened to sit at the same table as other girls, she rarely joined the conversation: she often stared at the other pupils with great intensity, trying to catch every word they were saying, as if our mother tongue was unfamiliar to her, and she struggled to understand it. When a joke was made, it was obvious that she couldn't grasp it, and her laugh came late and stilted, if it came at all. If she was called upon, she never seemed to have understood the question.
Even the most charitable girls who may have taken pity on her, sooner or later, gave up on her.
Similarly, girls with a tendency for pungency, who had mocked her initially for her strong Canadian inflection, but, after a while, left her alone, dissatisfied with her tepid reaction to their barbs and quite puzzled by how little she seemed to care – or understand.
'Yes, yes,' Marcelline would say when one of these fellow students repeated Marcelline's words exaggerating her speech mannerisms, 'quite.'
And that was all. Marcelline couldn't even understand she was being made fun of.
Being left alone without having any real friends to keep her company didn't seem to aggrieve Marcelline particularly. It was possible that she had received a similar treatment in whatever school she may have attended in Canada, and that she was by now used to being ignored. Nonetheless, I believed that she craved company, and that she was not insensible to the idea of having a friend.
I saw her the next day, sitting by herself in the refectory, eating her breakfast.
I sat next to her.
'Marcelline?' I said.
'Yes,' she replied, looking at me with some wonder.
I don't believe I had properly spoken to her after our initiation on the first night. I wondered how better to approach the conversation, since I had almost ignored her for the few months we had lived at the school, and we knew so little of each other.
I introduced myself, telling her about my life, about my father's death, how I relocated to a new city, and how my mother placed me in the institute following her relationship with a new man. I told her all this with a perfectly natural tone, as if we were old friends.
Marcelline stared at my lips with great intensity, nodding her head to show she was following.
Once I finished my story, she thanked me for the confidence and asked me how I found the school.
'It's a little dull. Don't you think?' I said, thinking this a good place to being persuading the girl and discuss the possibility of joining me in my nocturnal outings.
She nodded, considering my comment.
'It's all so new for me,' she said. 'It's quite different from Canada.'
She told me how, to her eyes, all the girls at the school appeared very elegant and how they always knew the right thing to say. In fact, she believed she had little in common with them to discuss for life in the Colonies was much different from the one in France.
'You and I are very similar: I come from a poor province, where nothing of relevance ever happens, and I too know not how to talk about balls and gowns' I lied, trying to ingratiate her to me. 'We can stick together. We can help each other.' Then, I added, and repeating these false words makes me much ashamed:
'We shall be friends.'
Marcelline smiled at me and held my hand.
'How happy your words make me, Eloise.'
That day, I spent every moment next to her, often offering a kind word. By that evening, we were inseparable: Marcelline followed me everywhere, so glad she was at having found a friend and, seemingly, frightened of losing it.
'Listen,' I told her in the afternoon, 'you and I are very different from the other girls here, and the lessons are so boring. How can you or I be happy here? But I have secret to tell you that might change all of this for you.'
Marcelline looked at me with great surprise and begged me to continue.
I then feigned reticence. How could I tell someone? How could I trust anyone with my secret?
Marcelline swore she would never betray my confidence. She spoke with great earnestness, and I believe that the mere thought of putting our newly formed friendship in jeopardy brought tears to her eyes.
'Then promise you will not tell a soul,' I demanded.
The poor girl promised many times over until I told her what I had been meaning to tell her all day. I spoke in vague terms of some friends I had outside of the school, people that were much more similar to me or her. I spoke of gay evenings spent together, and I suggested that she might join us.
Marcelline was fearful of leaving the school, and I told her I didn't blame her: she was a good girl, and she should do what she believed was right. I wasn't forcing her one way or another and was leaving her free to do as she wished.
But what freedom could that friendless creature have claimed? I knew without the shadow of a doubt that, having dangled my friendship before her, she would do as I ordered.
I knew then as I know now the error of my ways, their cruelty and selfishness, but I ignored my conscience and spoke those words I knew would persuade Marcelline to follow me until she excitedly consented to follow me that evening.
That night, we left the school in the same manner I used to along with Odile, except for the fact that, this time, I was the guide and Marcelline was the novice following me.
Bernard picked us up, and we rode on his cart into town.
Marcelline was silent, so that Bernard and I were doing most of the conversation. I explained that Marcelline was a dear friend, which I believe filled Marcelline with happiness and courage to leave the school on a cold winter night, and to follow a stranger. Bernard enquired after our treatment at the school, what the food was like, the lessons, our friends.
Marcelline said but a few words, answering politely when called for.
When we arrived at the little house, we walked upstairs. Marcelline looked for my hand and squeezed it. No doubt the girl was fearful of walking into this dilapidated building. I held her hand to give her courage.
When we walked into the little room, I found it occupied by a man I had previously met. He went by the name of Doctor Donkey.
If this was to be Marcelline's initiation into our nightly activities, I couldn't have hoped for a worse one: the doctor's tastes, although not cruel or unpleasant, were certainly going to be unfamiliar to my friend.
We sat at the table, and, as the wine was being poured, Bernard took me aside and gave me a little pouch. I didn't have to open it to guess it contained twenty francs.
'As promised,' he said.
Meanwhile, the doctor was studying Marcelline, asking her questions about her age, whether she lodged with me at the institute, and whether she played any card games.
He was a man of five-and-forty. Neither short nor tall, he had a slim physique. He had grey hair and penetrating blue eyes. He liked a joke and was ready to laugh, but his searching gaze was never merry and always studied his surroundings with something akin to irony and suspicion.
We all began drinking, so that the conversation began to flow with great ease.
Marcelline, who, as the newcomer, was finding herself at the centre of the attention, became a little more animated than usual and cheerful.
I watched as the men poured her many glasses of the cheap house wine, and, as I had done before when I first arrived at the house, she said many foolish things and made many mistakes with the cards, which were laughed at by the company.
Marcelline, so fearful at the beginning, was now reassured by the jovial treatment she was receiving. In fact, she seemed to enjoy herself greatly.
Only a couple of months before, that had been me. It hadn't taken me long to see through this scene, but, now that I could see what was going on and that I could even foretell how the evening would develop, instead of fighting against it, I went along with the evil machine that was controlling our every word and movement.
Finally, as it had happened many times before, the company grew tired of playing cards. The score was read, and Marcelline's great loss was made plain.
The girl looked at me, unsure of how to deal with this new revelation.
Bernard stood up and made to retire.
'You can come with me, if you wish,' he told me. 'Let them decide how to deal with her debt.'
I thanked him, but I said I preferred to stay with my friend for a while. Even though I was ready to allow the doctor to pursue Marcelline, I was also determined to remain in the room to comfort and assist my friend.
'As you prefer,' he said in a casual way and walked into his bedroom.
Doctor Donkey was looking at us in a lustful way.
'I didn't think I would be so lucky…'
Marcelline looked at me, still unsure of what to do or say.
'A debt is a debt,' I said.
Marcelline nodded, agreeing with what seemed an irrefutable maxim.
'My dear girl,' Doctor Donkey said, putting a hand on her knee, 'I will be happy to forego your debt, if you would like to indulge me and keep me company a little longer.'
The girl looked at him with her vacuous air made even more stolid by the great quantity of wine she had consumed.
'You see,' the doctor continued, moving the hand further up her thigh, 'I am not insensible to your charms. I have observed you all evening, and I believe you are quite a rare beauty.'
Marcelline looked at me, smiling at this compliment.
The doctor now held her by the waist.
'I will not ask for much…' he said, and he gave her a little kiss on the neck.
Marcelline blushed.
Although I had told her that I always had a lot of fun during these evenings, I had failed to mention that sexual conjugation was always involved. She was certainly not expecting it, and I was therefore anxious to see how she would react. I prepared myself to convince her to proceed in the manner that our guest required. And had paid for.
'Oh, monsieur!' Marcelline cried, to my relief, not totally displeased with either his words or with the kiss. The wine and the great excitement of the evening had put her in a mood well disposed to naughtiness.
The doctor kept talking, watching Marcelline closely.
'I see I am not rebuffed. Then, you understand me?'
Marcelline giggled and looked at me.
I looked back in an encouraging manner that told her: go on!
My friend then placed her hand on the man's crotch.
'Is this it? Is this the coin I need to give you?' she asked.
The man smiled and said that it was.
Marcelline was now looking at me, now at the doctor.
When I looked down, the man's trousers were unbuttoned, and Marcelline had his cock in her hand. The girl blushed greatly as she began stroking in.
I laughed and complimented her for her readiness, and the doctor said something to the same effect.
'There's nobody here to see you, or judge you,' Doctor Donkey said. 'We can be free and do what we wish. Nobody will ever know.'
'I won't tell,' I added.
Marcelline laughed again stupidly and said that she wouldn't either.
Then, she moved down and began fellating the man.
'Won't you join me?' she asked me.
I knelt before the gentleman and, while Marcelline was engaged in that activity, stroked now his thigh, now her back; now I caressed the man's stomach, now I kissed my friend's neck.
Then, Marcelline, still holding the base of the doctor's organ, handed it to me, so that I too could suck it.
The doctor watched on, very pleased. He was getting aroused, but I knew that this activity was not what he was after and wouldn't satisfy him.
'My dear friends,' he then said, 'I thank you for your kindness, but I would like to propose a change of pace. If I may use the same metaphor that had been used before, this, although quite enjoyable, is but small change. I will now require a larger denomination of currency to extinguish your debt.'
Marcelline replied:
'I will endeavour to repay you as best as I can.'
She readily stood up and began to undress. Her figure was quite distinctive, in that, because of her long neck, small shoulders, and large thighs, she resembled a wine flask or a pear. Some men would have found it a little awkward, if not at all attractive, but I believe that the disproportion of her lower half pleased the doctor, for he said:
'You have a very fine figure, my friend.'
I similarly undressed, and the gentleman gallantly complimented me as well, but, having had me before, he seemed determined to concentrate his attention on the new girl.
He stood next to Marcelline and caressed her body, feeling the smoothness of her skin, the way the hips curved, and how the flesh of her ass was a little rougher to the touch and plump and full.
He then kissed her on the mouth.
Marcelline moaned under the pressure of his lips, and the man, thus encouraged, felt her breasts and quickly moved down his hand to caress her crotch.
I joined the group, kissing both people and caressing their bodies, almost to fuel their passion.
Marcelline was holding her hands on the man's chest, and I moved a hand down to keep the doctor's dick hard.
'Do you think your friend is ready?' he asked me, bringing his index and middle finger to my lips and offering them to me.
I tasted Marcelline's moistness in my mouth and eyed my friend with a smirk.
'I think she is.'
'How would you like me, doctor?' Marcelline asked, coquettishly.
The doctor gave her ass a slap, which made her yelp.
'Ouch! Doctor?'
'You have a very nice behind, my girl. Why don't you show me?'
I assisted Marcelline to position herself on all fours, and I began kissing her on the mouth. With a hand, I kept fuelling the fire the doctor had ignited, in order to offer some solace to my friend in preparation for what would come next.
Marcelline was now panting under my fingers. She would move back to end our kiss and take a deep breath, as a new wave of pleasure washed over her.
'Oh… Eloise…' she would say.
All the while, I was spying on the doctor.
He disrobed quickly and stood still for a moment, observing me and Marcelline on the floor, one pleasing the other. He massaged his dick, as he diverted his attention to Marcelline's ass. Then, he knelt behind her.
'Oh! Doctor!' Marcelline yelped.
'It's just a finger…' he said, as if to excuse himself.
I moved to kiss her again, but Marcelline said:
'I have never had anything up that way…'
'Marcelline, our friend likes a woman's ass more than he likes any other part of her. It's not a big ask, I'm sure.'
'Oh, Eloise,' Marcelline moaned. 'I never… knew men… liked it…'
'You will see how nice it is,' the doctor said, still fingering her behind.
'He is right. Let me help you,' I told my friend.
I then moved underneath her, so that my mouth was against her pussy. From there, I could see the doctor's hand moving back and forth.
I then began to suck her with such eagerness that Marcelline could not but bow her head and cry:
'Ah… fuck… don't stop!'
As I licked one entry, the doctor prepared the other.
I licked her and sucked her. I massaged her back and her ass cheeks. I did all I could to console her of the treatment the doctor was imparting on her, and I believe she forgot all about it, until he placed his glans against that tight hole that had not known man until that day.
'Eloise, he's putting it in!' she moaned.
Then, she sighed loudly, for the doctor was entering her. He was moving in slowly. He had also prepared her well, and I was pleasing her so, that I believe that within a moment she had recovered from the initial surprise.
Marcelline then lower her lips onto my crotch and began licking. I felt her tongue move through the hair, looking for my clitoris and my labia and the hole within. She licked with great animation, fully lost in that debauchery.
Now and then, she stopped that activity, crying out:
'Ow, I think I'm going to come… Ahhh, it's so big!... Please… Yeah, yeah, again, again!'
I was also enjoying that activity, and soon Marcelline's attentions brought me to a quick orgasm.
The doctor was now picking up pace, having lost all regard for Marcelline's lack of experience with hat position.
I raised a hand and stroke his balls and perineum.
His heavy breathing became more fragmentary, and his choked voice told me he was about to come:
'You… fucking… whore… take it all… That's it… You like it, eh?'
I then moved my hand further back and entered his anus with a finger and pulled him closer so that his dick would enter Marcelline's ass up to the base.
As I did so, he cried greatly that he was coming, that I was a filthy pig, and that he should have fucked my ass too.
He rested into Marcelline's ass for a moment, jerking forward once or twice with the last spasms of ejaculation, then he moved out.
'You little tart,' he said jokingly, 'I'm the one doing the penetrating. Now come here.'
He raised Marcelline so that her ass would be directly against my mouth.
'Open wide,' he instructed. 'Both of you.'
He spread Marcelline's ass gently with his thumbs, and from that cavity came the warm stream of his semen.
I drank it all, and then licked the rim of Marcelline's ass.
'Eloise,' came Marcelline's laughing voice, 'I didn't know you liked my ass too. Please don't stop what you're doing. Didn't you hear our friend's orders?'
The doctor smiled at our compliance, then he asked whether Marcelline wanted to mop up his dick.
My friend readily put it in her mouth and sucked it with great vigour.
Then, when we were all satisfied, we moved onto the sofa, the doctor in the middle, and Marcelline and I to his side, and sat there in peaceful silence.
'Who knew…' Marcelline began.
'What?' I asked.
'That I would like that so much.'
I said I was glad she did, for I had been quite apprehensive up until that declaration.
'I suppose that, once you stop thinking about what you should like, you can find out what truly gives you pleasure,' she said.
The doctor said he wholeheartedly agreed and wished that more women thought like that.