"Sade, Marquis De - The 120 Days Of Sodom 1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marquis de Sade)

time. Nothing could have been more perfectly round, not very large, but
firm, white, dimpled; and when it was opened, what used to peep out but the
cleanest, most winsome, most delicate hole. A nuance of tenderest pink had
shaded this ass, charming asylum of lubricity's sweetest pleasures, but,
great God! it was not for long to preserve so many charms! Four or five
attacks, and the Duc had spoiled all those graces, how quickly had they
gone, and soon after her marriage Constance was become no more than the
image of a beautiful lily wherefrom the tempest has of late stripped the
petals away. Two round and perfectly molded thighs supported another
temple, in all likehood less delicious, but, to inclined to worship there,
offering so many allurements it would be in vain were my pen to strive to
describe them. Constance was almost a virgin when the Duc married her, and
her father, the only man who had known her, had, as they say, left that
side of her perfectly intact. The most beautiful black hair - falling in
natural curls to below her shoulders and, when one wished it thus, reaching
down to the pretty fur, of the same color, which shaded that voluptuous
little cunt - made for a further adornment I might have been guilty of
omitting, and lent this angelic creature, aged about twenty-two, all the
charms Nature is able to lavish upon a woman. To all these amenities
Constance joined a fair and agreeable wit, a spirit somewhat more elevated
than it ought to have been, considering the melancholy situation fate had
awarded her, for thereby she was enabled to sense all its horrors and,
doubtless, she would have been happier if furnished with less delicate
perceptions.
Durcet, who had raised her more as if she were a courtesan than his
daughter, and who had been much more concerned to give her talents than
manners, had all the same never been able totally to destroy the principles
of rectitude and of virtue it seemed Nature had been pleased to engrave in
her heart. She had no formal religion, no one had ever mentioned such a
thing to her, the exercise of a belief was not to be tolerated in her
father's household, but all that had not blotted out this modesty, this
natural humility which has nothing to do with theological chimeras, and
which, when it dwells in an upright, decent, and sensitive soul, is very
difficult to obliterate. Never had she stepped out of her father's house,
and the scoundrel had forced her, beginning at the age of twelve, to serve
his crapulous pleasures. She found a world of difference in those the Duc
imbided with her, her body was noticeably altered by those formidable
dimensions, and the day after the Duc had despoiled her of her maidenhead,
sodomistically speaking, she had fallen dangerously ill. They believed her
rectum had been irreparably damaged; but her youth, her health, and some
salutary local remedies soon restored the use of that forbidden avenue to
the Duc, and the luckless Constance, forced to accustom herself to this
daily torture, and it was but one amongst others, entirely recovered and
became adjusted to everything.
Adelaide, Durcet's wife and the daughter of the President, had a
beauty which was perhaps superior to Constance's, but of an entirely
different sort. She was twenty, small and slender, of an extremely slight
and delicate build, of classic loveliness, had the finest blond hair to be
seen. An interesting air, a look of sensibility distributed everywhere
about her, and above all in her features, gave her the quality of a heroine