The Memoirs of Josephine Mutzenbacher (vintage erotica)

BOOK: The Memoirs of Josephine Mutzenbacher (vintage erotica)
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The Memoirs of Josephine Mutzenbacher
( Vintage erotica )
Felix Salten
Felix Salten

 

The Memoirs of Josephine Mutzenbacher
CHAPTER ONE

T
he saying is that young whores eventually 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, across tables, over benches, standing against walls, lying on the grass, in dark hall-ways, in private bedchambers, 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 Sex afforded me is fast disappearing. I am rich, but faded, and often very lonesome. Yet it never enters my mind to do penance. My escape from squalor and drudgery I owe entirely to my healthful body. Without my youthful experience and the early awakenings of sexual passion, I undoubtedly would have succumbed like many of my playmates to the poorhouse, or would have died as a drudge in some household. I did not succumb to any of these. Instead, I obtained a good education, for which I can thank only my life as a prostitute, which brought me into touch with educated men, broadened my mind and enlightened me. I escaped the life which is led by ignorant, lowborn peasants-for which they are not to blame, but of which they are so often accused. It is not their fault; they know no better. But I have seen the world in a different light, for all of which I have to thank my Me as a prostitute, so often condemned by the Public. I am writing my experiences only to shorten my time of loneliness and to give to the public the truth about the experiences which led up to the life I finally adopted. I deem this far better than to run with long confessions to the priest-confessions which might please him personally but which would only make me absolutely weary. I also find that a biography such as I am writing never before has 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 describe the impressions a girl who has had the actual experience which I have had, and to narrate the real facts as they so often do happen. And now to begin…

CHAPTER TWO

M
y father was a very poor man who worked as a saddler in Josef City. We lived in a tenement house away out in Ottakring-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 brothers. 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 was a locksmith-apprentice. He had dark eyes and was a sad-looking lad. His black eyes and lark face always were covered with grime and soot. We children were very 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 my two brothers had gone to Furstenfeld 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, lifted up my little skirt and “examined” me. I was badly frightened as he viewed me naked upon his lap, but I remained perfectly quiet. Then he heard my mother coming, putting me down on the floor, he retreated hastily into the kitchen. A few days later, he again came home early. Mother was about to go out, so she asked him to look after me until she returned. This was a commission which he accepted gladly. As soon as Mother was gone, the knave again held me on his knees and began examining my naked underparts. He did not utter a word; he just stared at the tender organ constantly. I did not dare say anything. He repeated this performance 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 I call this fellow my first lover.

My two brothers, Franz and Lorenz, differed greatly in temperament. My oldest brother, Lorenz, four years older than me, was quiet, industrious and religious. Franz, the younger one, who was a year and a half older than me, was just the opposite-happy, carefree, and much more affectionate to me than was my other brother. I had reached the age of seven when, one day, Franz and I went to visit some neighbor's children. These children were always alone. Their mother was dead and their father was away at work. Anna, the younger, then a girl of nine years, was pale, thin and light blonde, with a split lip. Her brother, Ferdl, was thirteen years old, robust and also blond, but red-cheeked and broad-shouldered. We were innocently playing, when Anna remarked: “Now, let's play 'father and mother.'“

Her brother laughed and said: “She always wants to play 'father and mother.'“ But Anna insisted. Going to my brother, she said: “You be the man and I will be your wife.” Ferdl came and took hold of my arm and declared: “Well, then, I'll be your man and you be my wife.” Anna immediately got two pillow slips and made two rag dolls, handed me one, saying: “Here is your child!” I began to fondle and caress the doll, but Anna and Ferdl began to laugh at me, saying: “That is not the way; first you must make the baby, then you must be pregnant and then you must give birth to the baby. Only then you can fondle it.” I naturally had often heard people say that a woman was in the “family way” and soon would have a baby. The story about the stork I had long doubted, and, when I saw a woman with a big stomach, I imagined what that meant. But, of course, I was ignorant of the actual facts, as was also my brother Franz. Consequently, Franz and I stood bewildered and helpless and at a loss whether to proceed with this new game or not. But Anna stepped up to Franz and, reaching for the opening in his trousers, said: “Come on, take your 'pipe' out!” At that she unbuttoned his trousers and removed his little stem, while Ferdl and I looked on, Ferdl with amusement and I with astonishment, wonder and anger (yet with a strange, exultant feeling which I never had experienced before). Franz stood like a statue, not seeming to realize what was happening. At Anna's touch, his little device stood up stiff. “Now, come,” I heard Anna whisper. Then she threw herself on the floor on her back, and, lifting her skirts, spread her legs far apart. At this moment Ferdl grabbed me and said: “Lie down.” Immediately I felt his hand between my legs. I willingly lay down and lifted my skirts as Anna had done. Ferdl rubbed his rugged little plow against my untilled furrows.

I had to laugh, for his ministrations tickled not a little as he rubbed against my belly and thighs and all over me. He was breathing hard and he laid heavily upon my breast. The whole proceeding seemed foolish and laughable. Yet a strange feeling which came over me-one which I cannot describe, and which induced me to lie still. Now I became quite serious. Suddenly Ferdl jumped up. I also got up. He showed me his instrument, which I took in my hand. A small drop of liquid was visible on the end. Ferdl drew back the tiny spear's soft flesh covering and a little, red head appeared. I pushed the covering back and forth several times and thought it great sport to see the head, like the head of some small animal, appear and disappear. Anna and my brother still lay on the floor, and I saw that Franz was excitedly pushing back and forth. His cheeks were red and he was breathing hard, the same as Ferdl had done before. Anna was completely changed. Her pale 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, Ferdl with his hand under my skirts, holding my “susie,” Franz doing the same to Anna. I had Ferdl's “pipe" in my hand, while Anna held my brother's, and it was all very soothing to me. It did not tickle as before, but created a pleasant feeling which seemed to go through my entire body. This proceeding was interrupted by Anna, who gave me one of the rag dolls, keeping the other. We placed them under our skirts, next to our bellies. “Now,” Anna 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 and handed them to our “husbands” so that they could admire and wonder at them. In this way we played for some time.

Presently Anna conceived the idea that we must nurse our babies. She unbuttoned her waist and pulled down her undershirt so as to let the baby reach her breast. As she did this, I noticed that she already had a good-sized pair of globes, with large nipples-with which her brother promptly started to play. Franz, seeing this, also began to play with them, remarking as he did so that it was too bad that I had not “titties” yet. Then we were enlightened by Ferdl as to what the proceedings had been all about. We found out that what we had just done was called “intercourse,” and that our parents did the same thing to each other in bed, and that women became mothers of babies as a result of the operation. Ferdl seemed far advanced in these matters, informing us girls that our openings were still grown shut, which was why he and Franz 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 want to believe it, but Anna declared that Ferdl knew all about it and was very positive, as he had experimented with Mrs. Rhinelander in the attic, and, when he did so, his “tail” went clear up into her “hole.” Mrs. Rhinelander 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. Ferdl told us a story about her, which I will relate in the next chapter.

CHAPTER THREE


Mrs. Rhinelander,” said Ferdl, “had just finished her washing and was carrying a basket filled with clothes to the attic. As I passed her she said: “'Come, Ferdl, you are a strong boy: you can help me carry this heavy basket to the attic.'

“So I helped her with the basket. When we got to the attic she said: “"Now, what do you want for helping me up with the basket?”

“I told her 'nothing,' then she remarked: “'Come, I will show you something.' “She put my hand on her titties, and said:

“'Doesn't that feed good…” “I immediately guessed what she wanted for I had often poked Anna.” We all listened to Ferdl's story with great interest. Anna nodded, confirming his assertion that he often poked her. Then Ferdl went on: “I did not care to go too far, so I just kept on playing with her titties, but she unbuttoned her waist so that I could play with them naked. Then she took out my 'peter' and laughingly remarked: “If you will promise not to tell a living soul, I will let you do something else!”

“I said nothing but sat down on her lap. She again warned me not to say anything. I promised that I surely would not tell. “She then laid down the clothes-basket, pulled me on top of her and put my 'peter' up into her fat slit! She forced it away up into her. She asked whether it felt good, and I told her that it sure did! Then she started to push up and down like crazy while I kept on playing with her titties. When she finished, she jumped up, buttoned her waist and said to me angrily: “'Now get out of here, you imp, and if you tell anybody what happened, I'll tear your head off I'“ Ferdl ceased speaking, and Anna inquired: “Don't you think that you could get it way up into me now?” Ferdl looked at her. She was still holding the rag doll to her naked breast. He reached over and began playing with her. She remarked: “Try it just a little. Then well play 'papa and mama' again.” Franz immediately went over to her, and I, after all this teaching and after the story which I had just heard, was willing to start right in again. But Anna said: “No! Now Ferdl will be my husband and Franz will be yours.” Immediately she went to her brother and unbuttoned his trousers, whereupon he pulled out his “peter” and pushed the foreskin back and forth while he plied my “slit” with his finger. Since I had now learned how it was done, I lay down at once and directed his “peter” straight into my “slit.” The feeling was so pleasant as he entered me that I began to work my body with all my strength. This lasted until Franz had his “come.” Then he fell on me exhausted and did not stir. We remained quiet a few minutes. Then we heard Anna and Ferdl quarreling. He was still lying on top of her. She had her legs over his back, so that her feet touched each other. Ferdl was saying: “It will go in all right.” Anna said: “Yet, but it hurts. Stop, it hurts.” But Ferdl told her to keep quiet, that it would only hurt until he got it in.

Franz and I crouched down to look, in order to be sure that he really had it in. We were greatly astonished to see Anna's “slit” wide open. Ferdl had the head and part of the rest of his “peter” into her and was working back and forth with his body. Then, suddenly, the “tool" slipped out altogether. I reached down and steered it back inside, for I did not wish to miss the fun. I noticed Anna's opening had been rubbed to a bright red. Ferdl tried hard to get it in again, but Anna began to scream, and, becoming alarmed, we finally quit trying. Next I tried to take Ferdl once more. He was all excited, but I was getting sore myself and it was getting late, so we stopped the game and went home. Franz and I did not talk on the way home. We lived on the top floor of the tenement, next door to Mrs. Rhinelander. As we came in, we saw her talking to a neighbor. We stopped and stared at her, but as she turned around, we both laughed loudly and ran into our own door. From that day on I looked at children and grown people in an entirely different light. Although I was only seven years old, I had tasted of the forbidden fruit and my womanhood was developing wonderfully, which must have been very noticeable in my eyes and general appearance. My face, my mouth, my walk, must have been a challenge to men to grab me and throw me over. Only in this way can I account for men, upon first acquaintance with me, even strangers, wanting to take advantage of me, forgetting all caution. Even to the present day this same fate follows me. Although I am old and far from pretty, my whole body dried up, no signs left of my past life, yet even today I meet men who, upon sight of me, became excited and cannot keep their eyes off my body. But to return to my story. A few days after the events described above, Franz began to question Lorenz, asking him if he knew where babies come from and how they were made. Lorenz remarked: “Perhaps you know.” Franz and I laughed. I took Franz's “tail” out of his pants and stroked it gently. Lorenz looked on with a solemn face, and Franz began to tickle my “pussy.” Then Franz and I laid down on the bed and went through our little performance, which he had so thoroughly learned from Anna and her brother. Lorenz did not say a word until we had finished. But, as I went up to him, reaching for his “tool” and inviting him to take a turn with me, he shoved me from him, to my astonishment, saving; “I have known how to poke for a long time. You don't think I would wait for you, do you? But it is a great sin to do this, and he who sins like this will surely go to hell.” Franz and I were quite alarmed and said that this was not so. “Do you think father and mother will go to hell?” I asked. Lorenz could not answer this, so we lost our fright and began to make fun of Lorenz. He threatened to tell our teacher, the priest's understudy, unless we promised to not do “it” any more. But after having been bitten by the bug, there is no cure and one cannot be frightened.

We often visited Anna and Ferdl, always playing the same game. I always was poked by Ferdl first; then Anna was “had” by Franz; then Anna took on her brother, and finally I went through the act with my brother. There was hardly a day passed that we did not enjoy our little tail. But our main subject of conversation and our main wish was to be poked by a grown-up person: Anna and I wished for a man, while Franz's only wish was to poke Mrs. Rhinelander. Once when we visited Anna and Ferdl, we saw that they had company-a thirteen-year-old girl cousin named Mizzi and her brother, Polde, who was eleven. Mizzi was a pretty girl, fully developed; her breasts were hard and firm and stood out under her thin blouse like two little apples. The conversation naturally drifted to poking. Polde bragged that his sister had lots of hair on her “pussy.” He raised her skirts and we looked with wonder at the little triangular patch which covered her where we were still bare. Polde then uncovered her breasts and we looked in astonishment and began to fondle them. Mizzi now became very much excited. She closed her eyes and reached for Franz and her brother. They both placed their “peters” in her hands, while Ferdl began playing with her “pussy.” Suddenly she threw herself on the bed, crying: “Polde! Polde! Come! I can't stand it any longer!”

Her brother promptly sprang on top of her. Meanwhile Ferdl placed his pecker in the girl's hand, while Anna took hold of Franz. I watched with great astonishment as Polde kissed his sister, for I was not yet aware that kissing was part of this fascinating game. I noticed also that Polde was continually playing with her “titties" while he lay on top of her, and I saw how hard and prominent the nipples came out. I reached between her legs to convince myself that he really had it all the way in her, and found that he had. This was real poking! What a great experience for a seven-year-old whore!

I became greatly excited when I felt with my own hands that his peter, which was considerably larger than that of either Franz or Ferdl, sank into her belly to the end-disappeared entirely-came out-went in again. But most of all I wondered at Mizzie's action as she squirmed madly beneath him, crying, “Faster! Faster! Still faster!

…” until she finally cried, “Oh, that was so good!” as Polde withdrew his “tail” and got off of her. Franz and Ferdl now pressed close to her. She remained lying with her legs spread wide apart, smiling as she exhibited her bare thighs and titties. Ferdl and Franz began quarreling to see who should be next to poke her.

Mizzie settled the dispute by reaching for Franz, saying: “First the little one.” Franz sprang on top of her and began rubbing his “tool” against her as we children always did, but she stopped him, taking his little tail in her hand and with one push sending him away up into her! Franz was so astonished that he remained perfectly quiet, acting as though he could not believe what had happened. Mizzie then began to work in earnest, twisting from side to side and moving up and down. When she started to wiggle her bottom, Franz's little tool fell out. He was not able to find his way back without help, which I gave him. And, by holding my hand in readiness, I was able to shove him back every time that he threatened to slip out again. A new difficulty now arose. Mizzie insisted that Franz play with her “titties;” but every time that he began playing with them, he forgot about poking. Then, when Mizzie reminded him of that, he forgot the other. He absolutely could not master both at the same time. “Too bad,” she said, “he is so ignorant” Ferdl, anxiously waiting his turn, finally began playing with her titties, squeezing them and kissing the nipples until they finally got hard, thus relieving Franz of half the work. Franz in the meantime had got down to a regular action, which Mizzie seemed to enjoy very much, becoming greatly excited, repeatedly crying out: “Oh! But that little 'peter' is so good!” Suddenly she began to thrash violently to and fro, gnashing her teeth and crushing Franz against her breast. Then she sank back with a deep sigh, her eyes closed. Finally she became quiet, and, in a short time, Franz got up. No sooner had he done so than Ferdl, with his “peter” at the ready, leaped between her legs. Mizzi seemed anxious to receive him. I helped him find the right spot and also fingered his little “nuts.” In this way I could see and feel each time that he went away up inside her. Franz remarked that it was the same as it had been when with Mrs. Rhinelander. He showed himself to be very efficient at this business, and, as he worked up and down, the bed began to creak and Mizzie's breath came fast and short. Suddenly she went through another spasm, writhing and moaning terribly, and then sank down as if in a faint. Anna and I decided now that it was our turn for some fun. Anna immediately threw herself on the bed, calling Polde, in whom she seemed greatly interested. But Polde had again busied himself with his sister's titties, and, pressing them together with his hands, he took both nipples in his mouth and began to suck them. Mizzie, leaning back against the cupboard, enjoying the performance. She began playing with his “tool” while Anna lay helplessly in bed, all prepared for what did not happen. After a few moments, Polde raised Mizzie's dress and stuck his sword into her again, thus poking her standing up. He poked her so violently that the cupboard rattled. We had not known that it could be done standing up, so we watched much astonished at this new feat.

When Polde finished, it again came Franz's turn. He did a great deal better this trip, as he was learning the game rapidly. She then went through the same performance with Ferdl, this making number six for her, all of which she enjoyed greatly, not showing the least bit of fatigue. Anna now went again to Polde and assured him that he could get it away into her and would not have to rub it around as he did before on the outside. He put his hand under her dress and began sticking his finger into her “crack,” but said that he was sure that it would not go all the way in yet. However, Anna would not let him go. She held his “peter” and began playing with it. But her efforts were to no avail: The weary member hung down soft and limber. In the meantime, I had been playing with Ferdl, but could not arouse any passion in him. He simply allowed me to play with it. In the meantime he felt my “titties,” which were conspicuous by their absence, saying: “It's too bad that you haven't any titties like Mizzie.” I finally was obliged to give the enterprise up. I could not get any satisfaction from him. I turned to Franz and saw him again on Mizzie. He was not poking her, but was playing with her titties. Reaching into his pants, I found that his engine suddenly had plenty of steam in it again. He asked me to help him put it into Mizzie once more! I refused, so he found his way alone. Mizzie now went for number seven, but showed her exhaustion, for it took all of half an hour to finish this round. Thus Anna and I were denied the pleasure of a little poking and we both felt very badly. I went home in a sad state, cursing Mizzie and the hair on her “pussy” and her big “titties.” In a few days, however, everything was forgotten, as Mizzie and her brother lived a great distance away and seldom came to visit their cousins. In the meantime, Anna and I were satisfied with our old partners. We discontinued the old game of 'papa and mama' and just poked when we felt like it, just as Mizzie and Polde had done, sitting, lying, standing-in all conceivable positions. This life lasted all summer. Then our friends moved away, and I did not see blond Anna again for a long time. Before this occurred, however, another event took place, which I will relate in my next chapter.

BOOK: The Memoirs of Josephine Mutzenbacher (vintage erotica)
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