John HORWOOD
BOARD OF LOVE
Mr. Hobs checked his notepad again and headed towards
mansion. An extensive courtyard, which was hidden from prying eyes by a high
brick fence - on the gate of this citadel there was nailed a huge
sign: "Private boarding house for orphans", st. Paroel, 14.
“It seems to be here,” Mr. Hobs muttered and pressed the bell button.
An elderly woman gatekeeper led Hobs into the house and introduced her to Madame Sulbe.
- the mistress of the house.
Madame Sulbe's office looked more like a society lady's boudoir than a
work room. There are many paintings on the walls, one wall is mirrored, wide
the bed is covered with a pink moire blanket, the dressing table is with perfume and
vases, two armchairs, a pouf and a bureau. There was a tape recorder on the windowsill, but he
somehow fell out of the general view and was invisible. Madame Sulbe herself is smaller
she looked just like the owner of a poor boarding house. This gorgeous young
The Frenchwoman amazed Hobs with her ease and cheerfulness.
“Yes, yes,” she exclaimed happily as soon as Hobs introduced himself.
“We need just such a doctor.” It seems to me that you girls
you'll like it. In any case, come to me,” she smiled.
- I’m very glad, thank you for your frankness, I like you too and how
woman and as a housewife. Happy to serve you.
“So,” Madame Sulbe shot an intriguing glance, “exchange
The pleasantries are over. Please sit down. Let's talk business.
She sank into a deep chair opposite Hobs and they immediately rushed to him
into the eyes of her slender long legs, open far above the knees. Hobs
I tried not to look at them.
- Do you know anything about our boarding house?
- No, nothing except what is written in the ad.
- Wonderful.
Hobs noticed that Madame didn't wear elastic bands. The stockings were sewn together with panties.
“Our boarding house,” said Madame after a minute’s silence, “
intended for girls from 14 to 18 years old from poor families left without
relatives. Now I have 9 girls, but in general there will be 20. When the girls
reach the age of majority, we will accommodate them to the best of their abilities and
external data. Everything else you will learn as you work.
- What about housing, payment and daily routine?
Madame Sulbe went to the window and turned on the tape recorder, saying into the microphone:
"Mr. Hobs John has been hired to work at the boarding house. He is assigned room N10
in the right wing. Meals provided by the boarding house without cigarettes and wine. Salary
- one thousand francs a month. Mr. Hobbs undertakes to monitor the condition
health of boarding houses, provide assistance at any time of the day, produce
medical examination once a week. When leaving the boarding house, Mr. Hobs must put in
fame of the hostess, where and for how long..."
The owner's story.
In 1960 I married a stockbroker and he was 42
years older than me. He is already finished as a man. When we got married, he was already
I knew that I was hopelessly ill. I really didn’t know, but I guessed that
His health is not good. So, let's have a drink...
-Have you lived with him for a long time?
- If what happened between us can be called married life, then
I was married exactly 120 days. - She suddenly smiled sadly and,
leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes. - Doctor, pour me some rum, I
I want to get drunk today!
- Should I put in some lemon?
“No, let it be pure rum... Yes, so,” she continued after
how he drank. - 120 days, but my God, what torture it was. You are a doctor
and I can tell you everything. They usually don’t hide anything from the doctor!
- I grew up in a rich family. My father was a large businessman. I
was brought up in the best boarding houses in Sweden. When I was 16 years old, I was
engaged to the son of a Marseilles banker. I was destined for an easy and
carefree life. But everything collapsed in 1957. Father got involved in some kind of
dark scam with Cuban sugar. He invested all his capital in this business,
mortgaged all his property and went bankrupt. We were left poor. Father shot himself...
Pour some more rum!.. Mother died of the flu that same year. I was left alone.
To my misfortune, and perhaps to my joy, I no longer have relatives. A
why don't you drink anymore?
- I'll have a drink later.
- No, drink now. What I will tell you cannot be heard in
sober.
- Is it convenient to get drunk on the first day of work?
“I thought you knew how,” she flashed her eyes angrily, “It’s a pity that
I was wrong. Thanks for the company, doctor. I'm not keeping you. You can go
rest. She walked up to the bureau, looking through some papers, giving Hobbs
understand that dinner is over. "Shameless fool!" - Hobs thought, feeling
that blushes with shame. Hobs stood up and, silently bowing to the back of the mistress,
headed towards the door.
- You forgot to say goodbye to me, dear doctor!
- I bowed to your charming back.
Madame Sulbe first smiled at the joke, and then laughed.
- You answered well. I love witty people. - She returned to the table
and sat down in a chair. “Oh, these legs,” flashed through Hobs’s head. - Sorry
me, doctor, I got excited. No, obviously the wine is to blame. Sit down and
Finish at least this glass if you don't want to drink a lot.
Hobs sat down.
“You have such beautiful legs, I can’t get enough of them,”
he muttered embarrassedly.
- Do you like them? You'll see enough of them!..
“How, and will she be there for checkups?” - Hobs thought, his heart convulsed
clogged. Hobs was no prude, but seeing this gorgeous woman on
He didn’t want to sit in a gynecological chair.
“By the way,” she continued, “it all started with these legs at the age of 17.” I
was an awkward, angular girl and, moreover, with a nasty character,
so they weren't interested in me. And so, when I was on the verge of death from
hunger, an elderly gentleman picked me up on the street and brought me to his home,
He let me wash him in the bathroom, fed him and put him to bed. In the morning after breakfast he
said: “I’m not asking you how you got on the street, and I’m not interested in
your past. You don't interest me as a woman, and what kind of person are you?
Don't know. But you have beautiful legs and that saves you. I'm single and I need
good maid. You will only work on those days when I have
guests. I will warn you about this day in advance. All the rest of the time
you can mind your own business. I won't pay you any money. I will buy
clothes and I’ll order a special uniform and feed you. Because to go
you have nowhere to go, you will stay with me. That's all. The housekeeper will show you yours
room." At this point the conversation ended. I stayed to live with him. And after two
the day they brought me a uniform, I still have it, but it has become narrow
in the thighs and chest. I put it on and was horrified. The skirt was so short
that she barely covered her panties. Monsieur Jules - that was my master's name - examined
me and found the shape great, especially my legs. I started serving
parties hosted by Monsieur Jules every Saturday. They gave me a tray with
ice cream or glasses of champagne and I offered guests to refresh themselves and
drink up. I was not allowed to wear stockings. Looking at me, the men smiled and
They whispered about something, and the women turned away contemptuously.
What infuriated me most was that all the women who visited these
evenings, they were either outright prostitutes or kept women, but to me
were treated with open disdain. One day, while delivering ice cream, I
I went into the room next to the hall where men usually smoked. It had
It was gloomy and I didn’t immediately figure out who was sitting in it.
“Come to me,” I heard a woman’s voice on the right.
I turned around, my eyes already accustomed to the darkness. Beautiful woman
reclining in a wide soft chair. Her white thigh glowed terribly, and
A man's hair stuck out in a ball between her legs. I was taken aback by surprise.
- Well, give me some ice cream!
I went up to her and handed her a bowl of ice cream, and I was wide-eyed
looked at the man, with ecstasy and self-forgetfulness, going crazy around the body
women. I also wanted to be caressed like that.
For the first time in my life I felt how much of a woman I was. I was ready
offer myself to any man in the hall, but I was afraid that they would laugh at me
and they will refuse. The woman was languishing with pleasure, she began to lustfully move
back and press the man's head to himself with his hand, and he jumped and smacked his lips like
animal. The woman threw a vase onto the tray and leaned back further
back of the chair, throwing back her head, closing her eyes in pleasure. I
looked at the man. His eyes, burning with lust, looked at mine without blinking.
legs. I involuntarily made a movement with my hip, as if offering myself to him. He
jumped up. I noticed that his erect penis was sticking out of his unbuttoned trousers.
The man rushed at his partner and plunged his penis into her tormented
kisses the womb. They jumped and moaned as if they were condemned to death.
I couldn’t watch anymore and went out and walked around for a few more minutes, as if in
fog. Almost physically feeling like in my own virgin vulva
an elastic male member enters. I was completely lost in daydreaming about it. Obviously,
lovers told everyone about what happened, because the attitude towards me was harsh
has changed. They stopped being shy about me, men no longer whispered in front of me.
me, and women began to treat me as an equal. Monsieur Jules did not send me
sleep after one in the morning, I served parties until at least one
of the guests remained on their feet. I realized that Monsieur Jules's apartment -
a kind of meeting house where lovers of noisy orgies and spicy
sensations. About a month after that memorable evening, Monsieur Jules came
to my room. I was going to walk around the city and was already wearing my coat. He
looked at me critically.
- Today, baby, I'm giving the annual ball. There will be a lot of new people
which you don't know. Try to please them.
The party that day exceeded all my expectations. They were great
All the rooms were decorated, many people filled them. I'm out of habit
served everyone just as carefully and skillfully, but could not stand
unbearable desire among so many copulating couples
I decided to drink a little and quickly got drunk.
Usually men didn't see me as a woman they could
have. When I went upstairs to the room next to the hall, they
turned away in disappointment. So it was this time too, with the only difference:
that my drunken eyes made some kind of impression on some people. I
She chose a red-bearded guy among them and beckoned him with her finger. He was surprised and
began to look around, believing that I was calling someone else, and when I realized that
my gesture refers to him, he was even more surprised, cowering from
surprises. I felt like I was in an awkward position and didn't
I knew what to do, when suddenly a slender, handsome man approached me.
- I’ve noticed you in this house for a long time. Do you want me to take you for a ride?
car?
I nodded silently. We left the hall, quietly left the house, sat down in
a luxurious limousine and off we go. While driving the car with one hand, he uses the other
stroked my legs, lifting my skirt as high as possible. I didn't resist at all
I perceived everything somehow vaguely and unrealistically, like a dream. For an hour and a half we
rushed around Paris and during this time did not utter a word.
-Where should I take you? - The man asked when it got dark.
- Take it to your place...
“You can’t come to me, I’m married,” he said, looking at me in surprise.
- Then I'll come out here...
- Wait, we'll go to one place. I'm not going home today anyway
“I’ll get there,” the man said, turning the car around. 10 minutes later we were in
small well furnished room. Gabriel, that was the name of my new one
sign, closed the door, lowered the curtains on the windows and walked up to
to me.
- Take off your clothes, we feel at home here. You can take a bath.
“I already washed today,” I said and began to take off my coat.
He helped me undress and invited me to the table.
- Would you like a drink? I agreed. Half an hour later I was drunk.
Gabriel told greasy jokes and kissed my feet, which made me
I felt extraordinary pleasure. He took off my stockings and stroked mine
thighs, then he took off my panties. I didn’t resist and was ready for
everything. He knelt down in front of me. "Here is the man's head at last.
between my legs,” I thought with lust, thrilled by the sensation that gripped me
passions. "Will he kiss me?" - I thought, not daring to move, so that
touch his head with your hands. “Take everything off yourself,” he suddenly said, impulsively
jumping to his feet. We stripped naked and looked at each other for several minutes.
friend, enthusiastically enjoying his nakedness. “Come to me,” he whispered.
For some time we stood hugging each other, not daring to move from our place, not in
able to cope with the trembling that gripped us. Gabriel's hard cock pressed against me
in the stomach below the navel. His thigh pressed on my pubis. Every touch
Every slightest movement of his body gave me unspeakable pleasure.
I went crazy with delight and, closing my eyes, buried myself in his hairy chest.
“Arian, honey, I like you,” he whispered and his hands slid over mine.
back to my buttocks, slid along my thighs and converged at the bottom of my stomach...
Madame Sulbe fell silent and smiled dreamily into the distance. After
looked at Mr. Hobbs, smiled, and asked:
-Are you still listening?
- Certainly.
- Aren't you tired? Well, well!... Maybe we should omit these sexy
details...
- No, no, they give, in my opinion, a special flavor to your story. Yes
and besides, I don’t find anything wrong with it...
- Okay, pour us some more wine, let’s drink and continue. will you drink
together with me?
- With pleasure!
“What kind of hands were those!” Madame said admiringly, closing her eyes from
sweet memories. - When his fingers touched my flesh, I experienced
such piercing pleasure that my whole body involuntarily twitched,
She clenched her legs convulsively."
“Don’t you like it,” he asked offendedly...
“On the contrary,” I answered, breathless with excitement. - It too
ok, I'm not used to it yet. He smiled. - Lovely girl, -
he said tenderly, kissing me on the lips. It wasn't the same kiss yet
which women lose their minds and burst into flames. But for me and
that was enough. I groaned and collapsed into his arms from the sweetness.
exhaustion. Gabriel carried me onto the bed, laid me on top of the blanket and
began to frantically kiss my body, my girlish breasts, my angular
shoulders, my sunken stomach, my thighs and, finally, I felt the heat of his lips
on your not yet blooming rose. We were in a frenzy, the whole world
all the people disappeared and there was no more life, there were only two crazy flesh,
merged in one kind of frantic crazy celebration.
When I woke up, Gabriel was sitting next to me, already dressed.
- Are you going? - I asked in a weak voice.
- You have to relax. I didn't know you were a girl. I love you completely
tortured.
- No, it was wonderful! It's great that you made me a woman!
Thanks, dear.
Gabriel kissed me and left, and I fell asleep.
I returned home the next day in the evening, when the bruises disappeared
under the eyes. Monsieur Jules met me in the hallway. It was clear from his face
that he was very worried about me.
“It’s okay, Monsieur Jules,” I told him, “I’ll wear your Pique.”
“Crazy child,” he said and quietly shook his head.
I went to my room and, without undressing, went to bed. I'm everything
was still filled with some kind of sweet languor and delight. It seemed to me
that a piece of Gabriel is still in my flesh. This feeling was
so strong that she even touched herself with her hand. I didn't fall asleep
undressing. The next morning I took a bath and took out the Pique from the table.
It was a very funny thing. The triangle itself was made of some kind of elastic and
elastic material. The outer lining is velvet. Internal -
rubberized nylon. The pear was quite impressive in size and I was not without
I was afraid that it would be difficult for me to insert such a thick one, but further
this turned out to be not only difficult, but almost impossible. The pear was doubled
wider than my hole. She tore the lips of my vagina painfully, but everything
I haven't gone inside yet. Just at this moment, when I was already desperate and
decided to abandon this idea completely, the pear suddenly went through the last tight
millimeters and easily slid inside, filling me with her impressive
mass. The white triangle seemed to be glued and froze on my pubic area.
sighed with relief, but the difficulties did not end there. It turned out,
that walking with a pear is not very convenient, it rubbed into the vagina and all the time
made itself felt with some vague, anxious pleasure. I'm somewhat
Once I walked around the room and looked at myself in the mirror. I had a view
quite extravagant. The following Saturday I served guests in that
along with the difference that instead of white panties I was wearing only Pique.
The guests accepted me as an equal, the men joked with me, started talking to me
women were no longer ashamed of me. And that’s probably why I myself
the evening was a mad orgy. I served the couples with wine and ice cream. In that
the moment when they indulged in the most incredible love games, one of
guests, putting his woman on all fours, positioned himself across her backside and,
moving his whole body, he ate the ice cream I brought. The other one put the woman
on the sofa and arranged something like a table on her stomach and drank from a glass,
and after each sip he kissed her crotch. The third sat down on a chair, placing
on his belly a beautiful plump and, taking a bowl of ice cream from me, began
spoon-feed your partner while she moved her butt,
holding onto his shoulders. The men did not leave me unattended. They crushed
they stroked my thighs, rubbed their naked bodies against my thighs. Some even kissed
me in the buttock in a fit of excitement. All this gave me a lot
pleasure and increased my shares among men. By morning I was alone
dressed, naked men and women scurried around me, smelled of perfume and
flesh.
The spectacle of disorderly and shameless copulations impressed me
great impression. I felt extraordinary pleasure and by the morning
I was completely broken from multiple and fairly quick orgasms.
Before I went to bed, I took out the Pique. It slipped out easily and
quickly along with a huge lump of white mucus. Two weeks later I
I felt that Gabriel gave me a child, this news upset Monsieur
Jules. He sighed sadly and, scratching the back of his head, said: “Well, Arian,
I'll have to send you to Aunt Moreau."
And I was sent to Auntie Moreau in Normandy, in a small cheerful
village on the ocean. For two months the kind, grumpy old lady treated
I was given all sorts of herbs and fed a special diet. Forced me to do
exercises for the chest, waist, hips and only the legs remained the same. Not
I know if I was pregnant. Got rid of delays in menstruation, not
throwing away the child. During these two months that I lived with Aunt Moreau, my
my body has changed a lot: my hips and buttocks have gained weight. High growth,
who caused me so much grief suddenly became especially useful, making me
slender and graceful. All my dresses had to be altered, they were cracking
chest and hips.
At the end of July Monsieur Jules called. He inquired about my health and
asked to come to Paris. A local tailor made me a pretty good one
travel suit, in it I looked so elegant that for the first time in
I liked my life. In 2 months my hair has grown a lot and now it is...
fell onto the shoulders in a lush golden cascade. On the day of departure I went to
hairdresser and got a fashionable hairstyle.
Even from the carriage I noticed Monsieur Jules, standing forlornly in the noisy
crowd. I waved to him, but he didn't notice. I walked through with a suitcase
past him, he looked somehow strangely, smiled, without showing any
desire to come to me. I stopped in confusion and began to watch him.
He looked at me a few more times. Suddenly his face is frightened
stretched out, he clasped his hands and rushed towards me.
- Aryan, my God, is that you?!!
- Of course I am, Monsieur Jules!
“I didn’t recognize you,” he whispered apologetically. - You are so
I've gotten prettier, matured, it's amazing!
He took the suitcase from me and, offering his hand, led me to the exit. We were driving
home in a new luxury car. Monsieur Jules was already living in a new mansion on
Pieri Street, he had a new servant. A young girl took my place
gray-eyed girl about 18. The housekeeper was the same, she was waiting for me
prepared bath.
Monsieur Jules showed me to a new room. She was bright and beautiful
The windows looked out onto the garden. In short, everything was new. I went to the bathroom and the first thing
What caught my eye was a small mirror at human height.
It was built into the wall just like in the old bathroom. I knew that the mirror
on the other side is transparent and through it now Monsieur Jules will watch
me. I felt funny. I'm so used to this elderly man that
I would allow him to look at me at any time without any embarrassment. A
now he will watch me secretly through the mirror instead of
come in and sit next to me. I called him.
- Monsieur Jules! We haven't seen each other for so long and there's so much news that I...
I can’t wait to find out everything soon, if you are not busy, stay with me in
bathroom while I wash myself and we chat. While I was saying this, I managed to take off my shirt
and began to unfasten her bra.
“Help me, please,” I turned to Monsieur Jules,
confused by unexpected happiness. Taking off my bra, I turned to
him. -Will you stay with me?
“Oh, of course, with pleasure,” he barely said with excitement. I
took off her panties and climbed into the water. - How prettier you have become! You have one
charming figure and luxurious breasts! I can't find words to express
your admiration. Apparently Auntie Moreau's medicine did you good,
although this doesn’t help everyone.
- Yes, I had a great time there! But I still missed Paris. In the world
somehow boring, empty. When did you manage to move to this palace?
We chatted for a long time about business, about his new acquaintances. He said that
has prepared a new activity for me, which suits me perfectly
appearance. Then suddenly he sank in some embarrassment and watched in silence for several minutes.
on me. It was clear that he wanted to ask me something, but did not dare.
“Arian,” he called quietly.
- Yes, Monsieur Jules!
- Baby, you have such lovely breasts that I can’t resist
desire to touch her with your hands. Can I touch her with at least one finger?
- God, what scrupulousness! - I was surprised. - Of course, at least both
hands. This will only give me pleasure. His eyes sparkled
lustful lights, he jumped up from the stool and came up to me. Its plump
short fingers gently touched my chest and squeezed it so much that I
I felt only a touch, but nothing more. He knew how to handle
With women, his skillful caresses did not leave me indifferent. I shuddered
from a passionate impulse.
- Monsieur Jules, take off your clothes! - I squeezed out almost audibly. He silently
fulfilled my request. Contrary to my expectations, his body was not old. AND
naked he looked much younger. - If you want me, I'm yours
location, like other women.
“You see,” he began and hesitated.
- No, no, you don't have to tell me this. Can't I do this
do?
- You? I don’t know... You can probably do it, but it’s not that easy.
The novel "Père Goriot" (1834-1835) was created in a very short time. After its publication, Balzac admitted in a letter to E. Ganskaya: “This essay was written in forty days; During these forty days I did not sleep even eighty hours. However, now I can rejoice.” The novel was such a huge success among readers that Balzakov even became upset about his previous works, in particular for “Louis Lambert” and “Lily in the Valley”: the writer put a lot of his thoughts, memories, lyricism into them, while “Père Goriot "is an "objective novel" in which external reality is depicted.
Composition and genre features of the novel
Like other works of Balzac, the novel “Père Goriot” contains detailed descriptions of interiors, ordinary and everyday details, portraits of characters, their clothing, manners, etc. This is especially true for the exhibition of works, including the novel “Père Goriot” with its famous description of Madame Vauquer’s boarding house, which has become a textbook. The writer was convinced that without everyday elements, without descriptiveness, the plot would not be truthful, but these accurate, detailed descriptions were not an end in themselves for him, but a means of revealing the dependence of the character and mentality of the characters on the living environment.
At the same time, the descriptions in the novel “Père Goriot” (as in other works of Balzac) are like scenery in which dramatic action unfolds, gaining more and more tension. Reproducing the drama of modern life and identifying its hidden causes in this novel remains the author’s primary task. Balzac sees the only way to make modernity interesting for readers in revealing, under its colorless surface, violent passions, dramatic collisions, hidden depths that confuse the mind and feelings. Acutely feeling the dramatic nature of modern dynamic society, the writer finds hidden dramas everywhere - they are played out both in the luxurious mansions of aristocrats and in miserable shelters for beggars, such as Madame Vauquer's boarding house.
Here we are presented with various social worlds, which are the poles of the society of that time, and Balzac not only contrasts them, but also seeks to reveal the internal connections between them. Correlated with each other, these worlds illuminate each other in a new way, revealing new facets and properties. This is how the stereoscopic nature of the artistic image arises, characteristic of the “Human Comedy”, and at the same time an important step is taken towards a comprehensive artistic comprehension of the “social whole”, to its comprehensive description, which was Balzac’s general goal.
Pension of love
Boarding house of love.
Mr. Hobs checked the notebook again and headed towards the mansion. An extensive courtyard, which was hidden from prying eyes by a high brick fence - a huge sign was nailed to the gate of this citadel: “Private boarding house for orphans,” st. Paroel, 14.
“It seems to be here,” Mr. Hobs muttered and pressed the bell button. An elderly woman gatekeeper led Hobs into the house and introduced him to Madame Sulbe, the mistress of the house.
Madame Sulbe's office looked more like a society lady's boudoir than a workroom. There are many paintings on the walls, one wall is mirrored, a wide bed is covered with a pink moire blanket, a dressing table with perfume and vases, two armchairs, a pouf and a bureau. There was a tape recorder on the windowsill, but it somehow fell out of the general view and was invisible. Madame Sulbe herself looked least like the owner of a poor boarding house. This gorgeous young Frenchwoman impressed Hobs with her ease and cheerfulness.
Yes, yes,” she exclaimed happily as soon as Hobs introduced himself. “We need just such a doctor.” I think the girls will like you. In any case, come to me,” she smiled.
I’m very glad, thank you for your frankness, I also like you both as a woman and as a housewife. Happy to serve you.
So,” Madame Sulbe shot an intriguing glance, “the exchange of pleasantries is over.” Please sit down. Let's talk business.
She sank into a deep chair opposite Hobs and his slender long legs, open far above the knees, immediately caught his eye. Hobs tried not to look at them.
Do you know anything about our boarding house?
No, nothing other than what is written in the ad.
Wonderful.
Hobs noticed that Madame didn't wear elastic bands. The stockings were sewn together with panties.
Our boarding house,” Madame said after a minute’s silence, is intended for girls from 14 to 18 years old from poor families left without relatives. Now I have 9 girls, but in total there will be 20. When the girls reach adulthood, we will accommodate them to the best of their abilities and external data. Everything else you will learn as you work.
What about housing, payment and daily routine?
Madame Sulbe went to the window and turned on the tape recorder, saying into the microphone: “Mr. Hobs John has been hired at the boarding house. He is assigned room N10 in the right wing. Meals will be provided by the boarding house without cigarettes and wine. Salary is one thousand francs a month. Mr. Hobs undertakes monitor the health of the boarding houses, provide assistance at any time of the day, perform a medical examination once a week. When leaving the boarding house, Mr. Hobs must inform the hostess where and for how long..."
The owner's story.
In 1960, I married a stockbroker and he was 42 years older than me. He is already finished as a man. When we got married, he already knew that he was hopelessly ill. I really didn’t know, but I guessed that his health was not good. So, let's have a drink...
Did you live with him for a long time?
If what happened between us can be called married life, then I was married for exactly 120 days. - She suddenly smiled sadly and, leaning back in her chair, closed her eyes. - Doctor, pour me some rum, I want to get drunk today!
Should I put in some lemon?
No, let it be pure rum... Yes, that’s it,” she continued after he drank. - 120 days, but my God, what torture it was. You are a doctor and you can tell everything. They usually don’t hide anything from the doctor!
I grew up in a rich family. My father was a large businessman. I was brought up in the best boarding houses in Sweden. When I was 16 years old, I was engaged to the son of a Marseilles banker. I was destined for an easy and carefree life. But everything collapsed in 1957. My father got involved in some dark scam with Cuban sugar. He invested all his capital in this business, mortgaged all his property and went broke. We were left poor. My father shot himself... Pour some more rum!.. My mother died of the flu that same year. I was left alone. To my misfortune, and perhaps to my joy, I no longer have relatives. Why don't you drink anymore?
I'll have a drink later.
No, drink now. What I am going to tell you cannot be listened to sober.
Is it okay to get drunk on your first day of work?
“I thought you knew how,” she flashed her eyes angrily, “It’s a pity that I was mistaken.” Thanks for the company, doctor. I'm not keeping you. You can go and rest. She walked up to the bureau, looking through some papers, letting Hobs know that dinner was over. "Shameless fool!" - Hobs thought, feeling himself blushing with shame. Hobs stood up and, silently bowing to the back of the hostess, headed towards the door.
You forgot to say goodbye to me, dear doctor!
I bowed to your charming back.
Madame Sulbe first smiled at the joke, and then laughed.
You answered well. I love witty people. - She returned to the table and sat down in the chair. “Oh, these legs,” flashed through Hobs’s head. - Forgive me, doctor, I got excited. No, obviously the wine is to blame. Sit down and finish at least this glass if you don't want to drink too much.
Hobs sat down.
“You have such beautiful legs, I can’t get enough of them,” he muttered embarrassedly.
Do you like them? You'll see enough of them!..
“How, and will she be there for checkups?” - Hobs thought, his heart beating convulsively. Hobs was not a prude, but he did not want to see this luxurious woman on the gynecological chair.
By the way,” she continued, “it all started with these legs at the age of 17.” I was an awkward, angular girl and, moreover, with a nasty character, so they were not interested in me. And so, when I was on the verge of death from hunger, an elderly gentleman picked me up on the street, took me to his home, let me wash in the bathroom, fed me and put me to bed. In the morning after breakfast, he said: “I don’t ask you how you ended up on the street, and I’m not interested in your past. You don’t interest me as a woman, and what kind of person you are, I don’t know. But you have beautiful legs and that saves you.” . I am single and I need a good maid. You will work only on those days when I have guests. I will warn you about this day in advance. The rest of the time you can do your own thing. I will not pay you. clothes and I’ll order a special uniform and feed you. Since you have nowhere to go, you’ll stay with me. That’s all. The housekeeper will show you your room.” The conversation ended there. I stayed to live with him. And two days later they brought me a uniform, I still have it, but it has become narrow in the hips and chest. I put it on and was horrified. The skirt was so short that it barely covered her panties. Monsieur Jules - that was my master's name - examined me and found my shape magnificent, especially my legs. I began to cater for the parties that Monsieur Jules threw every Saturday. I was given a tray of ice cream or glasses of champagne and I offered the guests a refreshment and a drink. I was not allowed to wear stockings. Looking at me, the men smiled and whispered about something, and the women turned away contemptuously.
What infuriated me most was that all the women who attended these evenings were either outright prostitutes or kept women, but they treated me with open disdain. One day, while delivering ice cream, I walked into a room next to the hall where men usually smoked. It was gloomy inside and I didn’t immediately figure out who was sitting in it.
I turned around, my eyes already accustomed to the darkness. A beautiful woman was reclining in a wide soft chair. Her white thigh glowed terribly, and a man's hair stuck out in a ball between her legs. I was taken aback by surprise.
Well, give me some ice cream!
I went up to her and handed her a bowl of ice cream, while I looked with all my eyes at the man, who was maddened by the woman’s body with rapture and self-forgetfulness. I also wanted to be caressed like that.
For the first time in my life I felt how much of a woman I was. I was ready to offer myself to any man in the room, but I was afraid that they would laugh at me and refuse me. The woman was languishing with pleasure, she began to lustfully move her butt and press the man’s head to her with her hand, and he jumped and smacked his lips like an animal. The woman threw the vase onto the tray, leaned back further in her chair, threw back her head, and closed her eyes in pleasure. I looked at the man. His eyes, burning with lust, looked unblinkingly at my legs. I involuntarily made a movement with my hip, as if offering myself to him. He jumped up. I noticed that his erect penis was sticking out of his unbuttoned trousers. The man rushed at his partner and plunged his penis into her kiss-torn womb. They jumped and moaned as if they were condemned to death. I couldn’t watch anymore and went out and walked around for a few more minutes as if in a fog. Almost physically feeling how an elastic male penis enters my own immaculate vulva. I was completely lost in daydreaming about it. Obviously, the lovers told everyone about what happened, because their attitude towards me changed dramatically. They stopped feeling shy about me, men no longer whispered in front of me, and women began to treat me as an equal. Monsieur Jules did not send me to bed after one in the morning; I served parties until at least one of the guests remained on their feet. I realized that Monsieur Jules’s apartment was a kind of meeting house, where lovers of noisy orgies and thrills gather. About a month after that memorable evening, Monsieur Jules came into my room. I was going to walk around the city and was already wearing my coat. He looked at me critically.
Today, baby, I'm giving the annual ball. There will be a lot of new people you don't know. Try them...
The new girl walked blindly along the corridor, bumping into walls every now and then. Of course, she’s new, there can be no doubt about that. This lost look, the hinged, loose movements of the joints, as if she not only does not remember who she is, but also forgot how to walk, look, breathe. Oh, now she tried to turn on her right foot to the right. Funny. Diastaza didn't laugh. Firstly, you need to spend energy on laughter, and secondly, she remembered herself too well - like that. And the heavy, dull despair of a hunted animal. And the feeling of someone else's, clumsy body. And the painful search for memory - where? How? Who? Who?! Who am I?! Tears flowed down the new girl’s cheeks, she tried to wipe them away, but all the time she kept running her hand either into her ear or into her forehead. Diastaza couldn’t stand this. Overcoming terrible air resistance, she hobbled over to the new girl and wiped her face with her white starched apron. “Thank you,” the new girl sniffled. – Where... I... we... The answer required new efforts. But Diastaza didn’t have to strain herself. A quiet rustle behind her made her petrify. A generally harmless sound heralded the appearance of Madame. And there is nothing more terrible than this in the world, never was, and never will be. Diastase's back was covered in sweat. “What a lovely child,” Madame’s sweet, honey-like voice rang out. A moment later, she herself swam up to the girls, straight and majestic. She came so close that if Diastaza wanted, she could look under her hat. But there was no such desire. Not at all. Just thinking about it made my knees start to shake disgustingly. Diastaza hastily curtsied, but Madame ignored her greeting. She studied the new girl. “Charming, lovely,” Madame Caud cooed. “You need a name, baby.” She thought for a moment. The lush feather on the hat swayed in a smooth wave. - I name you... Harmony! – Madame exclaimed with unpleasant pathos. The new girl frowned, causing her wide eyebrows to move towards the bridge of her nose. The flow of tears stopped as if by magic. “My name was something wrong,” she said. Diastaza was delighted. Usually new girls were instinctively afraid of Madame to the point of convulsions. And this one is still arguing. “Everything that happened to you before was just a dream,” the hostess of the boarding house said affectionately. “And now you’ve woken up - and the dream has been forgotten, it’s gone, it’s dissipated.” This always happens with dreams, Harmony. The newly minted Harmony crumpled the ruffles of her apron and looked at the floor. Her whole appearance expressed disagreement. And Madame continued: “Only the chosen ones, the best of the best, get into my boarding house.” Dreams come true here. Everyone is happy here, Harmony. Here everything will be the way you want. Diastasis! Diastaza flinched in surprise and made another curtsey just in case. - Show Harmony the boarding house. You can be free until lunch. And she made a strange gesture with her hand, as if she was breaking an invisible thread. Then she turned around and walked away, pushing the heavy silk of her formal gray dress in front of her with her knees. “I didn’t understand anything,” Harmony said plaintively. - Please... And she froze with her mouth open. The dark girl who had wiped her face five minutes earlier was jumping on the spot, waving her arms. Then she ran along the corridor to the turn and back, silently shouting some words. - What happened to you? – that was all Harmony could ask when her announced escort calmed down a little. “I can be free until lunch,” she panted. - And there are still two hours before lunch, no less! Or even three! There is no clock here, Harmony. And there is no freedom here. - What is there? - Madame Caud is here. There is also a boarding house. There are boarders, that’s what it is – that is. But the main thing is Madame. And there is nothing else. - What's outside? - Not outside. Our whole world ends with the Boarding House. Believe me, Harmony, after lunch you will become indifferent. Well, or almost indifferently. I haven’t been here very long, so I can still figure things out, but I’ll stop soon. If you look at the graduating class, you will understand. - I hope I understand. She called you Diastase, is that necessary? - Yes. Nobody here remembers their names. Sometimes some fragments of memories of a past life are preserved, but not many and not for everyone. And Diastase is not the worst option, by the way, there is also Curtain and Dracaena. -Can I call you Stasi? - What should I call you then, Money? – the dark-skinned woman smiled wryly. - No, call me as it should be, especially since Madame does not approve of liberties. Let's go, I'll show you what I know. The girls wandered along the branching corridor of the Boarding House. “There are dormitories in the right wing,” Diastaza ranted with the air of a real tour guide. - Well, bedrooms, just don’t try to call them that in front of Madame, she doesn’t like that. Count the fifth door from the corner - this is ours. There is an empty bed next to me. Logic graduated not so long ago, not more than a week ago. Actually, I’ve lost count of the days, it’s all so similar here... They looked into the bedroom, admiring the two rows of neat beds with pink quilted bedspreads, white tiaras of upright pillows and polished metal headboards. Harmony politely clicked her tongue at the sight of such an abundance of pink plush, blue tulle and handmade lace. Judging by the expression on her face, this barracks idyll did not cause her delight. Next there were rooms for needlework, in which pupils in identical gray dresses and white aprons poked needles into hoops or tangled yarn with knitting needles. Some even struggled with macrame. The pupils resembled dolls whose factory was running out. None of them paid any attention to the observers. “They’re kind of... sleepy, or something,” Harmony said with doubt in her voice. A smile froze on Diastaza’s face. “They’re like zombies,” she whispered. “We’re like zombies...” She suddenly grabbed the new girl’s wrist, squeezing it until her fingers were white. Now her smile was more like a grin. This is how small but dangerous predators grin. “And I, you know, I would have been sitting here if the head of the workshop hadn’t sent me to the pantry for olive floss, bitch.” And after lunch, you and I will sit there, and we’ll prick some pink pantaloons with a needle. And then we’ll return to the dormitory, squeezed dry, and wonder what it was. And in the morning it’s all over again. And there is nowhere to go! Look, look while you can! After lunch, you will be happy, you will be sure that you are saving the world, like... like this... Diastaza grimaced painfully. The new girl was silent in fear, her large gray eyes rounded. She looked like she was about to cry again. - I do not remember. This, then, is from that life... Everything connected with that... like an ax... I know what an ax is, although they are not here. I also know how a chair differs from a table, and I won’t let a spoon pass my mouth. But sometimes there is failure, silence... “The dolls are silent,” said Harmony. - I know. Are you sure there's nowhere to go? - Sure. Do you see the garden outside the window? - I see. And what? I'll have a bruise. Diastase let go of the new girl's hand. She felt embarrassed for her breakdown, but decided not to apologize. - It's called the Tabernacles of the Trees. They can be seen from any window of any room of the Guesthouse. From any side. You can walk there sometimes, but no matter which way you go, you will run into the wall of a building. Did I mention that the outside of the Guesthouse is painted gray and pink? I stopped loving walking. She didn’t immediately realize that the new girl’s small hand was stroking her back. A familiar, practiced movement. “You probably had a cat there before,” Diastaza grinned, and the new girl was embarrassed. “I don’t remember,” she squeezed out. “But I know what a cat is.” “Okay, stop smearing the snot,” Diastaza winked quite friendly. - Let's go, while there is time, I will show you one thing. I stumbled across it by chance while Madame was away and we were temporarily allowed in. In her presence, of course, I would not have gotten that far. Let's go faster! They ran from the workshop, counting turns and trying not to knock over flower pots. That is, Diastase counted the turns, and Harmony tried to protect the green spaces from her still awkward movements. - Here! – Diastaza shouted, out of breath from running. - Stop, we're there! The new girl slowed down, gasping for air. A thick dark brown braid loudly slapped her on the back. - Look, I didn’t show it to anyone else. The girls leaned towards the small window, located for some reason at the level of their knees. Stained glass was inserted into the window instead of ordinary glass. Not very skillfully made, it depicted a simple landscape: a lush green meadow, a bright blue sky, hills on the horizon, a yellow-orange round sun. But Harmony gasped and froze in admiration. - What a beauty! – she exhaled. “They seem completely real.” What's behind this window? You know? - No. I... I was afraid to find out. Because if there are again the Tabernacles of the Trees... Diastaza shook her head. She was surprised at herself. During the short eternity spent at the Boarding House, she learned that she could not trust anyone here. That the pitiful scraps of thoughts must be kept to yourself, that in the punishment cell, that is, in the Office of Thoughts, it is even worse, there you can’t even tear yourself off the floor, and the puddle under you stinks worse every hour... So why did she open up to a girl she barely knew? Why did you lay out all your fears and hopes in front of her? Possibly because Harmony was arguing with Madame. And accepted the unspoken apology. And he knows what a cat is. And in general, instinct said that this was necessary. And Diastaza is used to obeying the instincts of the predatory animal living inside. “If there are Tabernacles of Trees, then there are Tabernacles of Trees,” Harmony’s eyes suddenly sparkled with polished steel. – I think we should take a look. What can I use to hook the frame? Diastaza thought about it. There was nothing suitable nearby. But she liked the idea, because it’s not so scary to watch together. “Let’s break it,” she suggested briefly. “It’s a shame, you’re so beautiful,” Harmony drawled. - Hey, friend, we either find out what’s outside, or admire the pretty one. The friend did not hesitate for long. - Let's find out. I don't want to be a zombie. Diastaza took a very pretty pot of some kind of balsam relative from the counter, squatted down and slammed the trophy at the stained glass window. The multi-colored pieces of glass flew out all at once with the second blow. Outside, the Booths of the Trees were green and welcoming. But that's nothing. The worst thing was that in the middle of the only alley in the Bushes the dark mushroom-shaped silhouette of Madame Caud was visible. She looked from under her incredible hat straight into the broken window. “We are in trouble,” Diastaza said with white lips. She had no doubt that the owner of the Boarding House knew perfectly well who caused the ruin. And that punishment is inevitable. “We won’t make it to graduation.” Harmony pressed against her shoulder, as if seeking protection. “Nothing,” said the dark-skinned woman, trying to restrain the trembling in her voice. - It's okay, we tried. And now it's just the two of us. We'll figure something out. She wanted to repeat this “we” endlessly, like a spell. Madame Caude was no longer in the alley. Diastaza screamed and unclenched her hand. A large drop of molten glass plopped onto the floor and spread into an amber puddle. The girls ran towards the dormitories very quickly, without even exchanging glances.
Pension of love
Boarding house of love.
Mr. Hobs checked the notebook again and headed towards the mansion. An extensive courtyard, which was hidden from prying eyes by a high brick fence - a huge sign was nailed to the gate of this citadel: “Private boarding house for orphans,” st. Paroel, 14.
“It seems to be here,” Mr. Hobs muttered and pressed the bell button. An elderly woman gatekeeper led Hobs into the house and introduced him to Madame Sulbe, the mistress of the house.
Madame Sulbe's office looked more like a society lady's boudoir than a workroom. There are many paintings on the walls, one wall is mirrored, a wide bed is covered with a pink moire blanket, a dressing table with perfume and vases, two armchairs, a pouf and a bureau. There was a tape recorder on the windowsill, but it somehow fell out of the general view and was invisible. Madame Sulbe herself looked least like the owner of a poor boarding house. This gorgeous young Frenchwoman impressed Hobs with her ease and cheerfulness.
Yes, yes,” she exclaimed happily as soon as Hobs introduced himself. “We need just such a doctor.” I think the girls will like you. In any case, come to me,” she smiled.
I’m very glad, thank you for your frankness, I also like you both as a woman and as a housewife. Happy to serve you.
So,” Madame Sulbe shot an intriguing glance, “the exchange of pleasantries is over.” Please sit down. Let's talk business.
She sank into a deep chair opposite Hobs and his slender long legs, open far above the knees, immediately caught his eye. Hobs tried not to look at them.
Do you know anything about our boarding house?
No, nothing other than what is written in the ad.
Wonderful.
Hobs noticed that Madame didn't wear elastic bands. The stockings were sewn together with panties.
Our boarding house,” Madame said after a minute’s silence, is intended for girls from 14 to 18 years old from poor families left without relatives. Now I have 9 girls, but in total there will be 20. When the girls reach adulthood, we will accommodate them to the best of their abilities and external data. Everything else you will learn as you work.
What about housing, payment and daily routine?
Madame Sulbe went to the window and turned on the tape recorder, saying into the microphone: “Mr. Hobs John has been hired at the boarding house. He is assigned room N10 in the right wing. Meals will be provided by the boarding house without cigarettes and wine. Salary is one thousand francs a month. Mr. Hobs undertakes monitor the health of the boarding houses, provide assistance at any time of the day, perform a medical examination once a week. When leaving the boarding house, Mr. Hobs must inform the hostess where and for how long..."
The owner's story.
In 1960, I married a stockbroker and he was 42 years older than me. He is already finished as a man. When we got married, he already knew that he was hopelessly ill. I really didn’t know, but I guessed that his health was not good. So, let's have a drink...
Did you live with him for a long time?
If what happened between us can be called married life, then I was married for exactly 120 days. - She suddenly smiled sadly and, leaning back in her chair, closed her eyes. - Doctor, pour me some rum, I want to get drunk today!
Should I put in some lemon?
No, let it be pure rum... Yes, that’s it,” she continued after he drank. - 120 days, but my God, what torture it was. You are a doctor and you can tell everything. They usually don’t hide anything from the doctor!
I grew up in a rich family. My father was a large businessman. I was brought up in the best boarding houses in Sweden. When I was 16 years old, I was engaged to the son of a Marseilles banker. I was destined for an easy and carefree life. But everything collapsed in 1957. My father got involved in some dark scam with Cuban sugar. He invested all his capital in this business, mortgaged all his property and went broke. We were left poor. My father shot himself... Pour some more rum!.. My mother died of the flu that same year. I was left alone. To my misfortune, and perhaps to my joy, I no longer have relatives. Why don't you drink anymore?
I'll have a drink later.
No, drink now. What I am going to tell you cannot be listened to sober.
Is it okay to get drunk on your first day of work?
“I thought you knew how,” she flashed her eyes angrily, “It’s a pity that I was mistaken.” Thanks for the company, doctor. I'm not keeping you. You can go and rest. She walked up to the bureau, looking through some papers, letting Hobs know that dinner was over. "Shameless fool!" - Hobs thought, feeling himself blushing with shame. Hobs stood up and, silently bowing to the back of the hostess, headed towards the door.
You forgot to say goodbye to me, dear doctor!
I bowed to your charming back.
Madame Sulbe first smiled at the joke, and then laughed.
You answered well. I love witty people. - She returned to the table and sat down in the chair. “Oh, these legs,” flashed through Hobs’s head. - Forgive me, doctor, I got excited. No, obviously the wine is to blame. Sit down and finish at least this glass if you don't want to drink too much.
Hobs sat down.
“You have such beautiful legs, I can’t get enough of them,” he muttered embarrassedly.
Do you like them? You'll see enough of them!..
“How, and will she be there for checkups?” - Hobs thought, his heart beating convulsively. Hobs was not a prude, but he did not want to see this luxurious woman on the gynecological chair.
By the way,” she continued, “it all started with these legs at the age of 17.” I was an awkward, angular girl and, moreover, with a nasty character, so they were not interested in me. And so, when I was on the verge of death from hunger, an elderly gentleman picked me up on the street, took me to his home, let me wash in the bathroom, fed me and put me to bed. In the morning after breakfast, he said: “I don’t ask you how you ended up on the street, and I’m not interested in your past. You don’t interest me as a woman, and what kind of person you are, I don’t know. But you have beautiful legs and that saves you.” . I am single and I need a good maid. You will work only on those days when I have guests. I will warn you about this day in advance. The rest of the time you can do your own thing. I will not pay you. clothes and I’ll order a special uniform and feed you. Since you have nowhere to go, you’ll stay with me. That’s all. The housekeeper will show you your room.” The conversation ended there. I stayed to live with him. And two days later they brought me a uniform, I still have it, but it has become narrow in the hips and chest. I put it on and was horrified. The skirt was so short that it barely covered her panties. Monsieur Jules - that was my master's name - examined me and found my shape magnificent, especially my legs. I began to cater for the parties that Monsieur Jules threw every Saturday. I was given a tray of ice cream or glasses of champagne and I offered the guests a refreshment and a drink. I was not allowed to wear stockings. Looking at me, the men smiled and whispered about something, and the women turned away contemptuously.
What infuriated me most was that all the women who attended these evenings were either outright prostitutes or kept women, but they treated me with open disdain. One day, while delivering ice cream, I walked into a room next to the hall where men usually smoked. It was gloomy inside and I didn’t immediately figure out who was sitting in it.
I turned around, my eyes already accustomed to the darkness. A beautiful woman was reclining in a wide soft chair. Her white thigh glowed terribly, and a man's hair stuck out in a ball between her legs. I was taken aback by surprise.
Well, give me some ice cream!
I went up to her and handed her a bowl of ice cream, while I looked with all my eyes at the man, who was maddened by the woman’s body with rapture and self-forgetfulness. I also wanted to be caressed like that.
For the first time in my life I felt how much of a woman I was. I was ready to offer myself to any man in the room, but I was afraid that they would laugh at me and refuse me. The woman was languishing with pleasure, she began to lustfully move her butt and press the man’s head to her with her hand, and he jumped and smacked his lips like an animal. The woman threw the vase onto the tray, leaned back further in her chair, threw back her head, and closed her eyes in pleasure. I looked at the man. His eyes, burning with lust, looked unblinkingly at my legs. I involuntarily made a movement with my hip, as if offering myself to him. He jumped up. I noticed that his erect penis was sticking out of his unbuttoned trousers. The man rushed at his partner and plunged his penis into her kiss-torn womb. They jumped and moaned as if they were condemned to death. I couldn’t watch anymore and went out and walked around for a few more minutes as if in a fog. Almost physically feeling how an elastic male penis enters my own immaculate vulva. I was completely lost in daydreaming about it. Obviously, the lovers told everyone about what happened, because their attitude towards me changed dramatically. They stopped feeling shy about me, men no longer whispered in front of me, and women began to treat me as an equal. Monsieur Jules did not send me to bed after one in the morning; I served parties until at least one of the guests remained on their feet. I realized that Monsieur Jules’s apartment was a kind of meeting house, where lovers of noisy orgies and thrills gather. About a month after that memorable evening, Monsieur Jules came into my room. I was going to walk around the city and was already wearing my coat. He looked at me critically.
