Chapter 7
Christina B. currently makes a living by posing for pornographic pictures. In addition to this she has acted in stag films and given performances at parties. Aware of the evils of her profession she has sought the aid of one of the best known psychiatrists in Europe, a Stuttgart based doctor, aging now, who was a student of Freud's in Vienna. Since he possesses a remarkably retentive memory this doctor did not need to consult his records. He could quote freely, offering names, incidents and details, without once referring to his records.
Pursuit of the orgasm is not unusual, he told us. Many of his female patients undergo analysis just to cure this problem. Christina B., for instance, enlists the aid of inanimate objects, animals, men, women and fantasies to bring on a climax. This relieves the pressures of her existence and is akin to taking drugs.
At my request a meeting was arranged with Christina B. We found her to be young, twenty-seven, pretty, fairly intelligent, and quite talkative. She held nothing back. However, prior to face-to-face introduction we were forced to employ some subterfuge and thus met Christina at 'work'. This was the scene:
Posing as buyers of blue films we were admitted to a shuttered nightclub. The atmosphere was one of silence and darkness. Fat men of the prosperous business type sat smoking cigars. In one corner a cameraman looking bored leafed through a magazine while his assistant set up lights. We noticed that three young people, a man and two girls lounged against a white-washed wall. Then two husky workmen set up a bed near them. The lights were adjusted and the young trio came to life and shucked their clothes. The cameraman took a reading, his assistant measured distance with a tape and everything was in readiness. There was no run-through, no shouts of 'lights, action, camera'. The palyers simply performed realistically.
One girl was blonde and slender. When she undressed stripping off flesh colored bra and panties we saw that her breasts were quite large, the nipples huge. Her waist was tiny, her hips fully curved, her buttocks a good round handful. She walked beautifully, like a trained model and the buyers watching murmured their approval.
The other woman was of average height but largely proportioned. We expected to see as she removed her clothing a Brunhildian torso, buxom bottom, melon-like breasts and full hips. Instead she moved lazily, almost slouchy as she peeled off her skirt and sweater and tossed them carelessly on the floor. Her underwear followed and when she straightened, tiny apples bounced on her rather broad chest. Her waistline was non-existent, she had a rolling belly, fattish thighs and ungainly legs. When she presented her backside to the audience it looked strange for the cheeks belonged to a skinny girl, being slightly larger than halfed grapefruit although she was a hippy girl. This was Christina B.
We discussed her appearance among ourselves and in that second that we looked away, the show had started. The two women were on the bed, threshing about as if locked in deadly combat. The act was distinctly lesbian and we described it here in detail.
The blonde tensed as Christina slid a hefty leg between the shapely thighs. A hand cupped one of the fruit-like breasts and a tremor tossed the slender girl's body about the bed. She rose up as the heavier woman began to plaster smacking kisses on her thighs and groin.
Now Christina's mouth fastened on her partner's. Her big hands fondled the heaving bosom and stimulated the soft skin of the squirming thighs. In the silence that followed we heard a groan then a whispered voice and realized it was Christina's. She spoke as she passed her tongue between the huge, swelling mounds, seeking the depth of the valley, lickingup every trace of moisture that was there.
Her hand worked down into a lower area. The blonde encouraged its roaming and opened her thighs. Christina's finger insinuated itself between tangled hairs into the vagina and began some rapid motions that had the blonde twisting lasciviously.
"Ah, ah, ah!" The blonde's slim arms tightened about the other girl's broad back. She worked the lower part of her torso and pushed Christina's head down. She arched up, fusing her loins to the open mouth and daring tongue. Her cry was choking, almost agonized and she became more mobile, more animated. She held fast to the tiny buttocks of Ursula and responded in a way that was raw and uncivilized.
Christina used her mouth and hands to madden the blonde. She feated on the yellow tufted love mound, working to bring on an orgasm. It happened and when the two women parted Christina twisted about on the bed and clapped her hands between her legs. Obviously, she was undergoing orgasms, also.
The blonde rose, gathered her garments and left. Now the young man came forward. He revealed an athelete's body as he stripped. He spoke to the camerman, receiving his instructions then approached the bed. The audience was allowed a profile view of this young man and his masculinity was amazing. He seemed to extend a good dozen inches beyond his body in the full erected state. One buyer rose and shouted something in German. Others repeated this cry and we interpreted this as a close-up. Obviously people who viewed this sort of illicit film wished close looks at the participant. Obediently, the cameraman wheeled in to the bed.
Christina came to life and kneeling on the bed gripped the boy's penis. She ran her fingers up and down it, followed with her tongue, took a portion in the mouth and moved her body in such a manner that the viewers realized thrills were shooting through her. The moment the boy freed himself she doubled up groaning, experiencing another orgasm.
She quaked as her body was arranged, her legs spread and bent. Tension held us all as we watched the boy move between her thighs. We saw him use both hands to steady and guide himself. He went in and Christina yelped like a kicked cur. She arched as she took all of him, every fraction of that weapon into her body. When he was completely submerged she started a series of rapid hip movements. He moved also, drilling into her, creating sensation after sensation. Suddenly she gasped and shouted. And shouted again. The boy increased the pace, bringing her to the peak of ecstasy several times before he reached a climax.
Fellatio and cunnilingus followed and then the actors were given a break. Both wiped themselves down with towels while the cameraman changed film. Christina, picking us out of the audience came over. We noticed again, her bent-knee walk.
"Hello," she said in slightly accented English. "I guess you see what Doctor-told you is a fact."
"Yes, we understand that you derive pleasure as well as money from this."
"It's my job. And it's fun, too. No?"
Her hair was a stringy brown mess and she was gap-toothed. However, she had pretty hazel eyes, a tilted nose and a firm mouth. Our eyes were drawn to her breasts which sagged and were the size of an undeveloped teen-ager's. If she noticed, she didn't mind our looking. We agreed to meet later and then she returned to work.
As the camera moved in the man slapped Christina viciously across the face. She reeled, straightened, dropped to her knees and groped for his penis. She forced his limp prick into her mouth. The boy leaned back trembling and we knew that he was instantly erected. That portion of him that was visible grew. He pulled out, smacked her on the chin and neck with his organ and then took Christina in an abusive way. She was forced to run her tongue up his legs and his buttocks, masturbate him, put the tip of his prick in her ear and allow herself to be buggered.
Analism we understand was quite common in some parts of Europe and Christina and her partner seemed experienced. They both knew what they were doing. He turned her upside down and rammed her from the rear. Again, Christina threshed about in a fit or orgasm.
The final part of the act involved a show with a dog. The animal, a St. Bernard was led in on a leash. A piece of meat was rubbed between Christina's legs and fed to the beast. He devoured it hungrily but when he was persuaded to sniff Christina's crotch the dog showed some reluctance. At last, after much coaxing he slaked his thirst at the core of Christina's being while she wrapped both legs about the canine's neck. Climax was swift in coming and she groaned so wildly that the St. Bernard was frightened off.
The show was ended.
We were shocked by the state of her small apartment and surprised that she showed not the least embarrassment. Clothes were every where, on the floor, on tables, chairs, the television and hanging from doorknobs. The rug had not been swept in months and evidence of this was there in the form of rusted apple cores, orange peels, old newspapers and long dead flowers.
She explained that she was a lazy girl. This was proven by the sight of the bathroom. It was apparently filthy with several rings around the tub, used tissues and panties on the dirt-streaked floor and a mound of cigarette butts in the toilet bowl. A yank of the chain could have flushed the bowl clean but it was not our job to advise Christina of this. She was quite obviously a disturbed creature.
As she settled herself in a chair we took note of her appearance. Clothed, she was a mess, the sweater cheap, worn and dirty, the skirt wrinkled and thread-bare, the high heeled shoes that were long out of vogue, cracked and in need of repair.
At one point during our conversation she put a Flanco disc on the turn table. Noise blasted out of a speaker and someone from the apartment next door hammered on the wall. Christina ignored this. "They can go to hell. I live as I choose."
"Do you feel satisfied now after the show you put on:
"I received pleasure from it, yes."
"You climaxed often. Doesn't this seem abnormal to you:
"I've seen physicians about it; I've a high sex drive, that's all."
We suggested that it was not the sex drive as much as the lift that orgasm sometimes brings a woman. She could apparently deceive the world about her into thinking she was a happy individual when indeed she was not. Orgasm might be the force sustaining her through the day.
"Are you sure you're journalists and not psychiatrists? Perhaps you've been dealing with too many women like me. You're right, you know. The act buoyed up my spirits. I feel great."
"You dealt with a woman, with a man, and with a dog. Which gave you the most pleasure."
Christina shrugged. "I climaxed with all three but natually, I was happiest with the man." Her eyes lit up. "That man was big, wasn't he? Mein Gott, he has something. You should see some of the boys chosen, out of bars, sometimes university students who need money and so many of them seem to be underdeveloped."
We wondered if it couldn't be the fact that over a period of time she had become so enlargened that only a man of abnormal size could satisfy her.
Again she shrugged. "Perhaps, because after all, I've had all sorts of things shoved up me."
Silence followed for a time and Christina asked if we wished refreshments. We asked for coffee, and still talking, followed her into the kitchen. Like the rest of the flat it was in wretched condition. There might have been twenty-five dirty glasses on the table, cupboard, window sill and in the kitchen sink. The door of the refrigerator was open, an uncapped bottle of milk resting on the floor and scraps of food molding in unwashed plates. We declined the coffee but she didn't take offense.
She laughed. "What's the matter, frightened by all the dirt? Most people who came here are. About once a month I give the place a thorough cleaning." She blew dust out of a glass, fetched a bottle of Steinhager and returned with us to the room. "When I get married I'll have servants, that's the only way."
For a time she poured the colorless drink into the glass. But after a while, perhaps because it took too much effort she began to drink straight from the bottle. This Teutonic drink was similar to Vodka in appearance and taste and we watched it take effect on the unfortunate girl.
"I was a virgin until I was eighteen, you know. My father who was killed on the Russian front had left some money for me. He wanted me to study, and become a doctor. I spent my teens engrossed in school work. My mother had married again, to a man younger than herself, and it was he who financed my education when my inheritance ran out.
"I had a boy friend, Ludwig, who was always pestering me to sleep with him. I finally did and, well it was nothing, and it continued to be nothing. But, it was agreed that we would eventually be married.
"One day, I came home from school and was greeted by my stepfather, Henri. We always kissed each other on the cheeks but this time he pressed his mouth to mine and shoved his tongue inside. I was shocked at first, then frightened. I ran to my room. His feelings for me had changed.
"Later, I told Ludwig about it but he was not interested. Well, the days passed, and one day when I was heading for his house I saw my mother. What is she doing in this district, I wondered. Out of curiosity I followed her and she went straight to Ludwig's house. I was surprised, feeling they were going to talk about me.
"I waited a while then entered the building. I had a key to Ludwig's small apartment and let myself in quietly. There was just one room, and a hall and that's where I stood, listening. There were sounds, like an animal makes and I noticed my mother's garments strewn about the hall. I tip-toed in and saw them, my boy friend and my mother locked together, making love.
"I was too stunned to speak. She was kind of fat, a sort of a slow-moving woman but with Ludwig in her she was as spirited as a child. Her buttocks were moving like a machine and her legs were working up and down his back and around his waist. She came maybe three times while I stood there.
"I screamed at them, and they broke apart. Then I ran out of the house. I ran straight home and told my stepfather. Henri wasn't at all surprised. He said it had been going on for some time. 'Let's pay them back in their own coin', he said. I told him that it would be incest. He corrected me, saying it wouldn't since we were not blood relatives. I was not his real daughter.
"All right, I figured what's good for the mother is better for the daughter. I took off my clothes and let him take me right there in the front room. He was in his late thirties and his body wasn't as good as Ludwig's but he was better accomplished.
"He prepared me by kissing me all over and licking my crotch. He fingered me for several minutes until I was quaking all over and wet, then, he went into me. The second he did I knew this was going to be different, this would be the real thing. I ached all over and when he rose up, in the withdrawing position, I scramed because there was a stinging sensation.
"I was having my first climax, feeling fire burn my breasts and start up from my legs and both flames meeting in my loins. The blaze was terrific and I began to cry because it was so wonderful. And, it went on and on. I reached the point where my mind drifted and my body did all the work.
"Henri came inside of me. I knew because it was quite hot and he slid around a bit inside me but then I had so many orgasms that I closed right around him. He rested a while without withdrawing and then I felt him getting hard again, growing bigger until he filled up my vagina. That set off another blaze and soon I was jerking about and spending.
"My mother came home to prepare dinner and caught us. We fought with her and it turned into the sort of a screaming match that the neighbors heard. When Ludwig came to visit later the fight was still going on. It became worse, the four of us yelling at each other. He said I wasn't a woman, that I was frigid. Henri defended me. He said it took a man to handle a girl like me.
"There was only one thing to do. We all broke up. My stepfather left the house. I severed relations with Ludwig and my mother right then and there, packed, and left, too. I suggested to Henri that we live together but he was worried about reputations. He had a profession and many clients and while a divorce would be bad enough, living openly with a stepdaughter would be disasterous. I said goodbye to him and took to the road. I felt quite grown up.
"We lived in the American zone of Western Germany and I got work on an Army base. I dated soldiers, all kinds, white and colored and went to bed with them. I liked the Negroes best in bed. They were built larger and seemed to live for sex.
"I remember one boy, Wilson P. from Atlanta, Georgia. What he had reminded me of was a fat, black snake. He had a furlough and a little money and a Volkswagon and he took me to Paris. The trip was fatiguing but the moment we registered in a hotel he wanted to make love.
"Wilson said he was to tired to undress so he sat on a chair and told me to mount him. I straddled him, felt him invading me and slid down slowly. I remember looking down and seeing the fur on my sex blend with his coarse hairs. He was so powerful that I had to bite down hard on my lower lip. Then I rotated my hips. I soon started to come and my buttocks trembled as I went up and down.
"It was a wild climax and I wanted to stop I was so weak. I fell backwards to the floor and Wilson cursed and thrust himslef into the wet cleft of my sex. He beat at me like a hammer so that he was sweating. I was whimpering but coming all the time.
"Later, that same night he made me go down on him. I didn't want to at first but he promised to eat me. All right, I told you, you first. He did and I creamed like an insane person. Afterwards, I had to pay him back. I didn't resist when he gripped my head and forced it against his thighs. Naturally, I was unable to take all of him into my mouth but I did the best I could. He received pleasure and while he was going off I climaxed, too.
"Wilson had to return to the Army camp in Germany but I loved Paris so that I parted from him. My first day alone I picked up a student on the Left Bank and went with him to his room. This boy was only twenty and small, I think I was a little taller. His name was Alain S. and he claimed to know everything, having spent time in North Africa. He would teach me what he knew.
"Alain liked to have me lie sideways, facing him. We'd kiss and then he would turn sinuously and make contact, have his sex in mine and be shoving in deeper as I rolled over and he lay atop me. For a small boy he had overpowering strength, the equivalent of Wilson's and every part of me opened as my passion rose to the heights. He also knew control and I would gush like a river while he kept on and on. Our bodies would be slippery and still he would ride me.
"Well, we were lovers for a long time but we starved. He had a few francs and I had nothing. He suggested that we do an act for blue films. He knew people making them and said we could earn eating money.
"The first time I made love with Alain before the camera I tightened up. I just couldn't get on with it. I lay like a log even though he tried everything. Finally, the producer of the film became angry and called in a North African from a run-down cafe next door. This man, an Arab took me on dog fashion. With my face away from the camera I climaxed.
"I soon became a star of blue films. I slept with everybody. While the men, and some of the other girls behaved in a business-like way I derived pleasure from it. Soon, when I had enough money put by I went off on a trip with one of the girls from the act. This girl, Marie-Claire was a stunning brunette. Her body was beautiful. Naturally, we became lovers.
"Whenever we ran short of money we'd pick up men and go to bed with them. Sometimes we slept four in a bed, switching partners and sleeping with each other, too. I enjoyed it tremendously. However, a lot of time had passed and I was tired of wandering. I thought it was time to return to Germany.
"I hitch-hiked my way back, sleeping with men almost every kilometre of the way. Some were sadists, they beat me. One man applied heat to my body, then ice, proving that he could make me come. Strangely enough I did. Another was a candle-stick salesman, and he shoved fat candles up me.
"Anyway, when I reached Germany I found myself friendless and alone. No one wanted any part of me. My stepfather had remarried, my boyfriend had left the city and my mother was living like a recluse. She allowed me to stay with her for a short time but we never spoke. I became nervous and to relieve my anxiety I used to lock myself in the bathroom and masturbate. Sometimes I used my fingers, but most of the time I aided my climax with a banana.
"One day someone called out my name on the street. I found myself facing the producer of the blue films from Paris. We chatted and he told about the world market for these pictures. He saw that I was down and out and said he would employ me.
"I went over big because I was a professional performer. The makers of these films find it difficult to get people to remain long. Mostly they find boys and girls who are in the red and will perform just a few times. I talked with these people and they couldn't understand how I could stick at it so long.
"I developed pangs of conscience and went to see a psychiatrist. His diagnosis was that I was insatiable, climax happy. He didn't condemn me but he said we had to try and effect a cure. I couldn't afford to keep up the treatments but he offered to handle me free. That was good but what about food, my rent, things like that. I needed money.
"Here in Germany the only men who can afford to keep a girl are middle-aged men. They are the ones with money, those fat bastards you see with expensive cigars and Mercedes Benz automobiles. It wasn't difficult for me to get one but they are worthless in bed. At least worthless for me. They want sex only once a night.
"I had to go back to making blue films. At least they enabled me to secure many orgasms. I need that."
"What about getting yourself a young lover?"
"They haven't any money. And they're human. How many young boys can go six or seven times a day. Perhaps the first week and then they're dead."
"Will you return for treatments?"
"There's no sense."
We pitied Christina B. The girl was doomed, she knew it and we knew it. There was no out for an insatiable creature like that. Eventually, she would turn to prostitution. When her looks and youth vanished she would face a dead end. A breakdown was inevitable, and then, an asylum.