Chapter 1

The saying is, that young whores become old, religious crones, but that was not my case. I became a whore at an early age and experienced everything a woman can...in bed, on chairs, tables, benchs, standing against walls, lying on the grass, in dark hall-ways, in private bed chambers, on railroad trains, in lodging houses, in jail; in fact in every conceivable place where it was possible...but I have no regrets! I am along in years now...the enjoyment which my sex afforded me is fast disappearing. I am rich but faded, and often being very lonesome, but it never entered my mind, although in the past years I was religious...to now do penance.

The squalor and drudgery which I escaped I owe entirely to my healthful body. Without my youthful experience, the early awakening of my sexual passion, I would undoubtedly have succumbed as many of my playmates, and would have been forced into the poorhouse or died as a drudge of some household. I did not succumb to any of these.

I obtained a good education, for which I can thank only my life as a prostitute, for this it was that brought me into touch with educated men...it broadened my mind and enlightened me. I escaped the life which is led by the ignorant, low-born workers, for which they are not to blame, but of which they are so often accused. It is not their fault for they know no better.

I have seen the world in a different light, for all of which I have to thank my life as a prostitute, so often condemned by the public.

I am writing my experiences only to shorten my time of lonesomeness and to give the public the truth about my past experiences, which led up to the life I finally adopted.

I deem this far better than to run with long confessions to the priest, which would please him personally a great deal more, which at heart I do not believe in, and which would only make me absolutely weary. I also find that a biography such as I am writing has never before been printed. The books which I have read tell none of the absolute facts as they really happen.

I feel that I am doing a good act, in exposing the doings of our so-called refined, rich men, who lure us poor girls into all kinds of the most shameful and sinful acts, and to put forth how it appears to a girl who has the actual experience that I have had, and to narrate the real facts as they so often do happen.

My father was a very poor man, who worked as a tanner for a firm in the outskirts of Paris. We lived in a tenement house in the 13th Arondissement, at that time a new house, which was filled from top to bottom with the poorer class of tenants. All of the tenants had many children, who were forced to play in the back yards, which were much too small for so many.

I had two older bothers. My father and my mother and we three children lived in two rooms...a living room and kitchen. We also had a roomer.

The other tenants, probably fifty in all, came and went, sometimes in a friendly way, more often in anger. Most of them disappeared and we never heard from them again.

I distinctly remember two of our roomers. One of them was a locksmith-apprentice. He had dark eyes, a sad-looking

9 lad; his black eyes and dark face always covered with grime and soot. We children were much afraid of him. He was a very silent man, never saying a word.

I remember one afternoon, when I was alone in the house, he came home. I was then only five years old. My mother and the two boys had gone to Les Halles, shopping and my father had not yet returned from work.

The locksmith took me up from the floor, where I was playing and held me on his lap. I wanted to cry, but he quietly told me "Be quiet, I won't hurt you."

He then laid me back and lifted up my little skirt. Then he examined me. I was badly frightened and he viewed me naked upon his lap, but remained perfectly quiet. As he heard my mother coming, he put me down on the floor and went into the kitchen.

A few days later, he again came home early. As mother was about to go out, she asked him to look after me until she returned, which he promised gladly.

As soon as she was gone, he again held me on his knees and began examining my naked pussy. He did not utter a word...just stared at my privates constantly! I did not dare say anything. This he repeated on many occasions, as long as he roomed with us. As a child, of course, I had no idea of its import, and did not give the matter a second thought. Today I know different, and often call this lad my first lover.

My two brothers, Pierre and Jean, differed greatly in temperament. My oldest brother, Jean, four years older than myself, was quiet, industrious and religious. Pierre, the younger, one and a half year older than myself, was just the opposite...happy carefree, and he took to me a great deal more than my older brother.

I had reached the age of seven when one day Pierre and I went to visit some neighbor's children. These children were always alone. Their mother was dead and their father was obliged to go to work.

Anie, then a girl of nine years, pale, thin and light-blond, with a split lip. The brother, Felix, a thirteen-year old, robust boy, also blond, but red-cheeked and broadshouldered.

We were innocently playing, when Anie remarked: "Now let's play 'father and mother'." Her brother laughed and said:

"She always wants to play 'father and mother'" but Anie insisted and went to my brother and said:

"You will be the man and I will be your wife."

Felix came and took of my arm and declared:

"Well, then I'll be your man and you will be my wife."

Anie immediately got two pillow slips and made two rag dolla, handed me one, saying:

"Here is your child!"

I began to fondle and caress the doll, but Anie and Felix began to laugh at me, saying:

"That is not the way; first you must make the baby, then you must be pregnant, and you must then give birth to the baby, then you can fondle it."

I had naturally often heard people say that a woman was in the 'family way' and would soon have a baby. The story about the stork I had long long doubted, and when I saw a woman with a big stomach, I imagined what that meant, but of course, of the actual facts I was ignorant, as was also my brother Pierre.

Consequently, Pierre and I stood bewildered and helpless and at a loss whether to proceed with this new game or not. But Anie stepped up to Pierre, and reaching for the opening in his trousers, said:

"Come on, take your 'pipe' out!"

At that she unbuttoned his trousers and took out his little penis, while Felix and I looked on, Felix laughing, while I felt astonishment, wonder and anger, yet with a strange, exultant feeling which I had never experienced before.

Pierre stood like a statue, not seeming to realize what was 11 happening. At her touch on his peter, it stood up and stiffened.

"Now, come," I heard Anie whisper, then she threw herself on the floor on her back, and lifting her skirts, spread her legs far apart. At this moment Felix grabbed me and said:

"Lie down," and I already felt his hand between my legs. I willingly lay down, lifted my skirts as Anie had done, and Felix rubbed his stiff tail along my little slit.

I had to laugh, for his tail tickled not a little as he rubbed it against my belly and cunt and all over me. He was breathing hard as he laid heavily upon my breast. The whole proceeding seemed foolish and laughable, and only a strange feeling which came over me which I cannot describe, induced me to lie still. In fact, I became serious: suddenly Felix became quiet and jumped up. I also got up. He then showed me his peter, which I took in my hand...a small drop of liquid was visible on the end. Felix then drew the foreskin back and the little, red head appeared. I pushed the foreskin back and forth several times and thought it great sport to see the head, like the head of some small animal, appear and disappear.

Anie and my brother still lay on the floor and I saw that Pierre was excitedly pushing bank and forth...his cheeks red...and he was breathing hard, the same as Felix had done before. Anie was completely changed. Her place face was colored, her eyes were closed and I feared that she was ill, but suddenly both became quiet, laid on each other a few seconds and then got up.

We sat together for a while, Felix with his hand under my skirts holding my cunny, Pierre doing the same to Anie. I had Felix's tail in my hand, while Anie held my brother's and it was very soothing as Felix fingered my slit. It did not tickle as before, but created a pleasant feeling which seemed to go through my entire body. This proceeding was interrupted by Anie, who gave me one of the rag dolls, 12 keeping the other. We placed them under our skirts, next to our bellies.

"Now," Anie said; "we are in the family way."

We walked up and down the room with our bellies sticking out, laughing. We then 'gave birth' to our babies, fondled them hended them to our "husbands" so that they could admire them and wonder at them, and in this way we played for some time.

Then Anie conceived the idea that we must nurse our babies. She unbuttoned her waist, pulled down her undershirt so as to let the baby reach her breast. As she did this, I noticed that she already had quite good-sized titties, with large nipples, with which her brother started to play. Pierre, seeing this, also began to play with them, while Felix remarked that it was too bad that I had no titties yet.

Then we were enlightened out of the fairy tale. We found out also that what we had just done was called intercourse, or in plainer words 'fucking'...that our parents did the same thing to each other in bed and women became mothers to babies from the operation. Felix seemed far advanced in these matters; informing us girls that our openings were still grown shut which was why they could only rub their tails around on the outside and not put them in.

He also informed us that when we grew bigger, we should have a lot of hair grow there. I did not believe it, but Anie declared that Felix knew all about it, and was very positive, as he fucked Mrs. Terrine in the attic and when he did so., .his tail went clear up into her hole.

Mrs. Terrinf was the wife of a street-car conductor, who lived on the top floor of our building.

She was a short, dark skinned woman, small and pretty and always friendly, so Felix told us the story, which I will relate in the next chapter.