answered Frank’s ring was Jos=E9. He was young, tall, and very well built. The naturally arrogant air of Spanish men was becoming to his Moorish face. Once again O was overwhelmed with a feeling of shame as she followed him, with her mules clacking noisily, down the long hallway. It was not because he had flogged her, but because she was sure he had believed what Frank had said to him, and that he was firmly convinced that O desired him. And she could not rid herself of the memory of what some colonial officer had said to her about the Spanish soldiers of North African descent: whenever they could, they spent the entire day in the saddle.
Jos=E9 had not taken ten steps when he indeed turned around and, having come abreast of the first bench along the hallway, which he pushed against the wall to make things easier, grabbed O and threw her down on it. He took her slowly, leisurely, and O, furious with herself, but being worked over by an iron bar as a field by a persistent plow, was unable to prevent herself from moaning with pleasure.
“You enjoying it?” he asked her. “You like it?” the second “it” not referring to the act itself but to the instrument he was wielding.
His white teeth gleamed in his swarthy face. O closed her eyes so that she would not have to see his smile. But he bent down over her and took her tongue. Why was O so afraid she could feel herself trembling at the idea that Frank’s door might open?
In the ground floor bathroom, where Jos=E9 then took her, O found Noelle, who was holding her skirts up while another girl in uniform, with the crossed scarf, was douching her. O squatted down in like fashion over the Turkish-style toilet next to the one Noelle was using. When she had eliminated the last drops of water from her body, the same girl who had been administering to Noelle soaped her for a moment, then rinsed her with a spray, activated by the pressure of her finger, that spouted from a round metal tube topped by an ebonite nozzle. The spray was gentle, but the water was cold, colder still, it seemed to her, than when she had felt it running into the depths of her bowels, then her vagina. Was it really necessary to douche her so meticulously and at such great length a second time, this time concentrating on the loins, the inside of the thighs, and the opening of her vagina? During her first stay at Roissy she had not even been aware that these bathrooms existed. It is also true that then she had never been in any room other than her own.
“The rule is, O,” Noelle explained to her when she later had a chance to ask her about it, “that each time we go upstairs we’re sent down for a douche afterward.”
“But why for such a long time,” said O, “and why so cold?”
“Personally, I like it’ Noelle said. “You feel so cool and fresh afterward, and so nicely contracted.”
The girl on duty then gave them both some lipstick and perfume. They made themselves up and both brushed their hair. The perfume warmed O slightly. Noelle took her by the hand. She was lovely, with that Irish type of beauty you also find in certain parts of Brittany, with black hair, very white skin, and blue eyes. She was no taller than O, but she had narrow shoulders, a relatively small head, tiny pointed breasts, and generous, well-rounded hips. Her small pert nose and full lips, which were always half-parted, gave her a saucy, laughing air. But it was also a fact that she was generally good humored: whenever she entered a room, one always had the impression that she was coming to a party. There was something disarming about her cheerfulness. She lent herself to anyone’s conunand or desire with such a charming smile, she lifted her skirts so readily, revealing the lovely expanse of her white buttocks, that it was rare indeed that she was seriously whipped. “Just enough, no more and no less,” she used to say to O, “but the fact of the matter is I don’t look good all marked up.”
When they
Jos=E9 had not taken ten steps when he indeed turned around and, having come abreast of the first bench along the hallway, which he pushed against the wall to make things easier, grabbed O and threw her down on it. He took her slowly, leisurely, and O, furious with herself, but being worked over by an iron bar as a field by a persistent plow, was unable to prevent herself from moaning with pleasure.
“You enjoying it?” he asked her. “You like it?” the second “it” not referring to the act itself but to the instrument he was wielding.
His white teeth gleamed in his swarthy face. O closed her eyes so that she would not have to see his smile. But he bent down over her and took her tongue. Why was O so afraid she could feel herself trembling at the idea that Frank’s door might open?
In the ground floor bathroom, where Jos=E9 then took her, O found Noelle, who was holding her skirts up while another girl in uniform, with the crossed scarf, was douching her. O squatted down in like fashion over the Turkish-style toilet next to the one Noelle was using. When she had eliminated the last drops of water from her body, the same girl who had been administering to Noelle soaped her for a moment, then rinsed her with a spray, activated by the pressure of her finger, that spouted from a round metal tube topped by an ebonite nozzle. The spray was gentle, but the water was cold, colder still, it seemed to her, than when she had felt it running into the depths of her bowels, then her vagina. Was it really necessary to douche her so meticulously and at such great length a second time, this time concentrating on the loins, the inside of the thighs, and the opening of her vagina? During her first stay at Roissy she had not even been aware that these bathrooms existed. It is also true that then she had never been in any room other than her own.
“The rule is, O,” Noelle explained to her when she later had a chance to ask her about it, “that each time we go upstairs we’re sent down for a douche afterward.”
“But why for such a long time,” said O, “and why so cold?”
“Personally, I like it’ Noelle said. “You feel so cool and fresh afterward, and so nicely contracted.”
The girl on duty then gave them both some lipstick and perfume. They made themselves up and both brushed their hair. The perfume warmed O slightly. Noelle took her by the hand. She was lovely, with that Irish type of beauty you also find in certain parts of Brittany, with black hair, very white skin, and blue eyes. She was no taller than O, but she had narrow shoulders, a relatively small head, tiny pointed breasts, and generous, well-rounded hips. Her small pert nose and full lips, which were always half-parted, gave her a saucy, laughing air. But it was also a fact that she was generally good humored: whenever she entered a room, one always had the impression that she was coming to a party. There was something disarming about her cheerfulness. She lent herself to anyone’s conunand or desire with such a charming smile, she lifted her skirts so readily, revealing the lovely expanse of her white buttocks, that it was rare indeed that she was seriously whipped. “Just enough, no more and no less,” she used to say to O, “but the fact of the matter is I don’t look good all marked up.”
When they
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