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Whipped Women

Latest update – Sunday 14 October 2007.

Author:

Jean de Villiot, Whipped Women, (The confessor ; Procured by a whipping ; Victims of love ; Daughters to marry ; The colonel and his cook), Privately issued for bibliophiles and collectors only ; impr. de Vve Folguy (Alençon), Paris, 1903.



  • Whipped women

    The Confessor

    Erotic story (1903)

    par Jean de Villiot

    ’Naked, save her chemise and stockings, she fell across the priest’s armchair, hiding herself as much as possible, in the dishevelled tresses of her luxuriant hair. Suddenly, he lifted her filmy last garment, of soft silk, and remained as if dazzled at the sight of the divided fleshly circle, so solid, vast; the fair skin tightly stretched over its surface, and so beautifully rotund. The sepia-like hue that threw its shade over the deepest recesses of her body, and the strong odour that arose therefrom, far from being repugnant, seemed to delight him, as if it reminded him of the rind and perfume of some favourite fruit. He experienced such a craving to press and embrace these superb buttocks, that he could not refrain from opening the slightly sullied cheeks, and even went so far as to slide his linger to the verge of the impure orifice. She shuddered, and half turned her head. Thurzo, to prevent her suspecting anything, was obliged to seize the birch hurriedly, and risking to draw blood, strike pitilessly on the spot which was so delicate and which he was tempted to caress. Astounded at such an unexpected and brutal blow, she gave a start of pain, uttered a shriek, and her eyes filled with tears.’ (Jean de Villiot, Whipped women).


  • Whipped women

    Procured by a whipping

    Erotic story (1903)

    par Jean de Villiot

    ‘Strange creature! I said to myself, repeating my host’s expression.
    After all, she had given herself once to me so frankly and completely that she left nothing more for my desire to long for. I should have preferred to renew that adorable intertwining embrace, although it would no longer have savoured of surprise, as the perfume of lilies of the valley of her jacket and armpits; the delicate wild strawberry flavour of her melting lips; the vast, firm plenitude of her buttocks; the forest of her beautiful hair, and especially the indescribable grace, awkwardness, and amorous fury of her yielding grip had transported me to the seventh heaven of delight. But such enjoyments cannot be renewed. Once experienced, we must, at the same time as we feel them, committhem to ourmemory, embalming them in our remembrance, to serve now and again as delicious pictures with which to accompany other ordinary pleasures, that without such help would be less perfect, and incomplete.’ (Jean de Villiot, Whipped women).


  • Whipped women

    Victims of Love

    Erotic story (1903)

    par Jean de Villiot

    ‘What’s the matter? What has happened to you? You know mother is here.
    - Never mind her, said he, repulsing her as far as her bed-room. Do you know this letter?
    Madeleine laughed wickedly and slyly.
    - What if I do? was her tranquil rejoinder. Did you think I put up with you for love of your fine face—
    She did not conclude her sentence, for Henri seized her hands, and lifting his walking-stick, struck her on the shoulders, back, and legs.
    - Pity! Pardon! she ejaculated.
    - No! No pity for lying whores!
    She fell groaning on her knees against the bed. He tore off her dressing-gown, drawers, and slight chemise, converting the lace that had cost him so much money into valueless rags, while he bruised and rendered all bloody the body of the loved one, whose supple loins, and the large lower mountains, with their bold, full symmetrical contours and enticing curves had once been the enchantment of his eyes.’ (Jean de Villiot, Whipped women).


  • Whipped women

    Daughters to Marry

    Erotic story (1903)

    par Jean de Villiot

    ‘The whipped girl had not noticed her mother and sister’s departure at the moment, she was so overwhelmed with shame and confusion at having thus been flogged at her age in front of her sister. And in a hotel too, when the neighbours: a young man with mocking eyes, a tall lady with a disdainful nose, and all the children, so inquisitive and indiscreet, might have heard the blows. As all became silent at last, she sat up, and felt acute pain. It seemed to her now that some heavy load oppressed her, and made her loins ache. She tried to get a glimpse of her poor posterior, and stood up in front of the mirrored wardrobe. Madame Panat had flagellated Georgette’s bottom methodically, without touching the thighs, whose whiteness remained intact, while above the perfect pair of columns, the living, vivid, throbbing cupola appeared as if flaring with a mass of flames. Her flesh was burning, and what frightened her greatly was that as she touched herself in the most secret spot of her frame, she felt her finger growing moist, and found a little drop of blood therein. To calm the fiery heat devouring her flesh, she went and fetched Henriette’s vaseline and powder, and after having thrown a pitying glance at the bleeding reflection of her bare person in the glass, she commenced smearing the balm over her bruised bottom, when, lifting her eyes by chance, she caught sight of three childish, saucy faces peeping at her with amused and jeering astonishment. In the room where she was, there existed a door of communication, closed at present, but a piece of glass, very high up, above it, afforded a clear outlook from one chamber into the other. Two tiny girls and a little boy having heard a great noise in Georgette’s bedchamber, had rigged up a regular scaffolding of tables and chairs so as to get a view of what was going on, and by the expression of their mischievous faces plainly gave signs that they felt inclined to see the show out.’ (Jean de Villiot, Whipped women).


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