The Diary of Geza Csath Page 4
About a week later, a third new chambermaid appeared on the horizon. Her name was Karolin. Small, shapely, snub-nosed, black-haired, white-skinned, kind, with an arrogant voice. A common wench with the aroma of the bordello, but a healthy, lively, wicked little beast. Because of her similarity to Irene, I had my eye on her from the start. She rejected the standard advances and only days later was I able to get her to give me a kiss with her blood-red, hard little lips. I got no further. She didn’t want it. She announced that her rate was twenty crowns. A few days later she said she would be willing for thirty crowns. I didn’t mind – I had so much money the sum didn’t really make much difference to me. A few minutes later she was lying in my bed and we were united in a lively duet. The girl laughed constantly, looked at me and said things of this sort: ‘Oh, how fresh, what are you looking at there, my God, like a bear, polar bear, polar bear!’ Her originality was decidedly refreshing, and although her orgasm on this first occasion did not seem great, I still felt it was worth the money, and that she was the most extraordinary of the women at the spa so far. Even later on, pleasure for her only lasted a very short while, like a little weasel or a domestic rabbit, but it grew consistently in intensity. The cause of the inhibitions she showed at first was her fiancé, whose ring she wore. She had promised to be faithful, she had sworn, and she tried to keep the vow at least partially. Later, she gave up completely. I could well see that the flame of true pleasure sparkled in her eyes, and in her finely formed little white basin, great upheavals took place. For the rest of the season I had only five or six more encounters with her, quite lively ones. The most memorable – or, shall I say, the only memorable one – was when I assailed Karolin within earshot of Margit, the other chambermaid, who was then ill. Margit pleaded with me not to do it but I could not resist the unique charm of the situation and I penetrated. Karolin, too, was excited by the unusual and cruel trio, and she gave her all. I left the room in the midst of Karolin’s usual ribbing, ‘polar bear, shameless person…’ etc. and Margit’s quiet sobbing. But that happened near the end of the season; much awaited me before then.
At the end of July, two labourer girls looked me up. One of them had herself examined while the other safeguarded the patient. I had noticed the escort, Bozsi B., weeks earlier. Scrawny but sweet build, upturned nose, Jolanka face – I thought of Jolan when I saw her,
Jolan at 16 or 17, with silky, beautiful blonde hair and black doe-eyes. The whole girl was an arresting and picturesque phenomenon, a little Melisande, a little fairy-tale princess or the spring fairy from a Max Klinger kitsch painting. The next day, on their second visit, I kept her with me and sat her down. She obeyed. I kissed her. She pressed against me. ‘Jolanka, little Jolanka,’ I whispered to myself, as if under the influence of an old fixation.
She looked up at me anxiously and sweetly, her beautiful eyes full of tears. I took her history and examined her. Naturally, I found a little apicitis at 37.5 C. I started her on an Arsycodile cure immediately. She was reluctant to take the injection, though after I explained something important was at stake, namely, that I was going to cure her, she agreed to continue the shots and came regularly. I treated her very conscientiously and succeeded brilliantly in dispatching the first dose of IP. Her temperature went down right away, and the feverish intervals were reduced to two or three hours. I provided her with money too, so she would have something to eat to supplement the disgraceful meals Mrs Braun gave them – members of the worker’s cooperative fund – as board.
Bozsi improved rapidly, and when she left the sanatorium around the middle of August, that is, after three weeks of treatment, she could boast of having gained almost six kilograms. She had gained colour, and her little bottom strained visibly under her skirt.
Bozsi came in to see me two or three times a day. She helped me wash the instruments, and amused me with gossip that was circulating about me and my lovers.
On 28 July, I reached the state of complete ecstasy while embracing her. This was followed by great depression, however. For this reason, I decided to stop using B.9 I stopped the poison at once and entirely, for two weeks, without any difficulty.
We generally spent the afternoons together, wandering in the fields from two to four, singing couplets and chatting about events in Budapest. After the first days I could see she was a virgin. Her hymen was one of the most beautiful I had ever seen.
It was also in the first days of August that I noticed a chambermaid who resembled Charlotte. I invited her to
9. Author’s code for morphine.
my room, and with the help of condosa, I stormed her right away. She enjoyed herself terribly, but I didn’t avail myself of her again, because I found her arms too thin.
In the first half of August, a woman appeared at my office, Emma V. She wanted to have herself examined. I could see what her true purpose was immediately from her behaviour, dress, and everything else. Because of the surprising ugliness of her face, however, I only laughed to myself about her. She had a sharp, upturned nose, deepset light blue eyes, pimply facial skin with large pores, and big wide lips. Her manner of speech was supercilious and mincing. She immediately mentioned her acquaintances among the nobility. Then she narrated the story of her marriage. Her husband, one of the most famous of Kormocbanya’s10 cavaliers, had committed suicide. Some disease of the blood, it seemed, and the fear of paralysis. This conclusion is also indicated by the wife’s upturned nose. Unable to forget the phallus of her exceptionally potent drone, the widow attempted suicide shortly after the burial. She shot herself in the breast. She even showed me the bullet hole. Later, it seemed, she realized that pleasure could be obtained from other sources. Masturbation for one, and through men. Her face revealed that she practised the first much more often. During the examination of the genitalia, I was surprised by the beauty of the body, the pink, lip-like nature of the introitus and its blonde decor, the slimness and shapeliness of the legs. During the examination she exaggerated her embarrassment. When the speculum was introduced (only the smallest size would go in), however, her embarrassment
10. Kremnica
Kormocbanya (Kremnica)
did not impede her from enjoying herself openly. I stayed quite calm. She dressed, I wrote her a prescription, and excused her. (She had only a slight endometritis, with a minimal discharge.)
In a few days she sought me out again. Another examination followed. By now, she stimulated me decidedly. Mainly I was affected by the nature of her pretentiousness, with its similarity to that of Charlotte. I was also struck by the woman’s insolence, her imbecilic, base nature, her poverty (she was the daughter of a postal official and lived off her parents), and her saturation with desire. She undressed agilely, her black pants clung tightly. At the same time she undid her long, ash blonde hair, which fell to her knees. On her feet were good patent leather shoes and quite high stockings. When she spread her thighs apart, I asked when she had last had intercourse.
‘Oh, a long time ago!’ she said in a stifled voice, and her eyes sparkled with a green light, revealing anxiety that perhaps she wouldn’t have it now, either.
‘And what would you say if I did it now?’
‘I would permit it,’ was her answer, while she hid her face, and her entire lower abdomen convulsed.
I put on a condom, and there, on the examination table, I attacked, standing up. As much as she was able, she lifted her chalice to serve me better. My enjoyment was significant because her eyes sparkled wildly and her entire ugly being went through a peculiar transformation which excited and fascinated me. It was only the lack of a kiss which made the enjoyment imperfect. I did not dare to kiss her and did not even want to. As soon as I had finished I turned myself back into a doctor with insulting speed. I saw how much this woman enjoyed humiliation so I gave her her share, ordering her to dress quickly because others were waiting outside. She was ecstatic in her praise of the pleasure she had received.
‘It was a like a fairy tale, a fairy tale!’
&
nbsp; After that, she left. But first she planted hot, slavewoman kisses on my hair and back.
Afterwards, the woman looked me up four or five more times. I always insisted on delaying the appointment by a week, and she obediently accepted the terms. The sexual pleasure I felt with her grew further on the later occasions. I tried her out in all kinds of positions, and her peculiar, devilish character could produce something new and filthily stimulating in each new situation. Her tall, supple, but not thin build, finely modelled hips, and large mound of Venus were quite beautiful. And to go with them, that pimply, distorted face with pink lips that looked like raw meat. Lying on her back, she was able to pull her knees all the way back to her shoulders. At those times, she always declared:
‘I worship you, because you crumple me up under you so.’
Aside from this, she always showered me with praise, and during the act of coitus itself, from under a veiled gaze, she quietly moaned:
‘Unreal, fantastic, it’s all unreal!’
Several times she asked me to get a job for her in Budapest, and to allow her to come and see me at least once a month. I always hedged – the devil with it, a woman who had already tried suicide once could make a lot of trouble. Nevertheless, I could not prevent her from looking me up a couple of times in Budapest. The unparalleled weakness of human nature allowed her to have her way on one such occasion.
At the end of September or the beginning of October she came in a ‘princess’ dress, under which, as I discovered later, she wore only a blouse and knitted pants. That’s when I gave in to temptation. From behind, standing up in front of the mirror, I performed the savagery upon her. A great weariness followed. I made grave accusations against myself of having cheated on my loyal little Olga, and with such a woman. But even today I conclude that it would be easier for Olga to forgive me if – as was the case
– the woman was far beneath her in quality. I would restrain myself from telling her what intense sexual excitement this nasty beast could induce. (If I analyse the cause of it, I arrive at the following: (1) resemblance to Charlotte, (2) masturbatory past, (3) her little daughter, (4) her contemptibility, (5) in contrast to the preceding, her insolent hauteur, (6) the contrast between her pimply, ugly face and her outstanding figure, (7) the way she offered herself, that is, her shameless lust.)
The further evolution of my relationship with Bozsi B. occurred in the first half of August. Until then, I did not want to hurt the lass because I felt sorry for her; now, however, I desired more and more to occupy her little virgin chalice. On 8 August, I undressed her in order to examine her, carefully inspected her hymen, and found it faultless.
‘Allow me, my darling,’ I said, ‘to make you mine.’
‘No, absolutely not,’ she said, ‘it’s out of the question.’
The arrogance and provocation in her tone made me wild. I laid her down and sans condom I soon penetrated her. Lustfully, as if it was something she had been anticipating for a long time, she received my assault. She gave herself like a little lamb, with fiery eyes, and only protested out of propriety.
Stubnyafurdo, Green Mirror women’s baths
‘Don’t hurt me, my dear sweet one, don’t hurt me, you’ll break me, my God, don’t hurt me!’
In the meantime, however, she embraced me with fire, and I could well see that her joy exceeded her pain. We both soon reached ecstasy and looked at each other astonished. She had only bled slightly, no doubt on account of the copious Vaseline I used and also because I had not penetrated her roughly. I did not want to rip the curtain apart entirely, and was satisfied to have got halfway through the door.
Afterwards, I was a little frightened of what I had done. She was a weak, kind little girl, after all! What would happen if she conceived? Such questions thronged in my mind, and I bothered the sweet thing no more at the baths. A few days later, when she departed, I forced thirty crowns on her and provided her with advice and stamps, so that she could inform me of her condition. Later, in Budapest, she sought me out once a week for further treatments, usually on Sundays. On these occasions I always served her coffee, oranges, and pastry, and made her sing the songs she heard in the Budapest night. Her musicality left me in awe more than once. I played the piano for her many times. During a selection from Lohengrin, she exclaimed: ‘How beautiful!’ She understood music. She could sit at the piano for hours playing tunes, and working at harmonizing them.
‘Oh, Lord,’ she sighed, ‘what a shame I can’t do it with my other hand too!’
In the Green Mirror women’s baths, a pretty servant named Anna Schwarz had attracted my attention almost since the beginning of the season. Wide face. Creole-pink skin. A splendid body, rock-hard breasts. Huge muscles. Big, round blue eyes. Fuller than usual lips and a slightly crooked little bird’s nose. She was a distrustful, apprehensive virgin. Only after lengthy wrestling was I able to bring her lips to a kiss. When it happened, however, she embraced me fervently and kissed me back. I was astounded; she kissed like an artist of love. I could get no further, though. A couple of times she promised she would come up to my apartment, but she always deceived me. She never came.
Finally, I succeeded in getting her to come to my office one Sunday afternoon. Once there, she lay down on the couch, but heaped obstacles in the way of further natural developments, leaving no doubt that her lust was much weaker than her fear of possibly losing her virginity. Thus I let her go without having deflowered her. On the occasion of my leaving, however, she came to see me and left me her address, in case I needed a servant in Budapest. From this I deduced that my desire had affected her after all, and had awakened in her the desire to be mine. She was a blue-eyed woman. A peasant Lulu! In other words, she wanted definite value in exchange. A position as a servant would have satisfied her.
Another little affair also occurred in August. Kitty W. was a pretty lass who had been to America, the daughter of a machinist’s wealthy widow. I had treated Kitty’s mother for gout. The daughter had awakened my interest weeks before, with her fine, slim body, big bird nose, lively bird’s eyes, strange and endearing bird-like movements. Her complexion was a brilliant pink, she wore a pretty English hairstyle, high-heeled shoes and a tight skirt. In the restaurant, we frequently engaged in lively exchanges with our eyes. She appeared to be a flirtatious and lively girl. I was displeased to discover she was engaged. Still, when she escorted her mother to my office and we shook hands, I noticed that she put vigour into her return of my weak handshake, and that she even smiled back at me from the door to the foyer. A few days later, I met her at the stairs on the second floor.
‘Wohin gehen Sie?’
‘Hinauf zum Mama!’
‘Warten Sie, bitte, ein wenig.’11
I held her nervous little white hand. She stopped, her face shone with the blush invading it, and the sparkle of her eyes revealed that I was free to dare. I embraced and kissed her. She returned the kiss ardently – our lips did not part for twenty or thirty seconds. From then on, under various pretexts (urine tests for her mother etc.), she often came to my office alone. She allowed every genre of flirtation, but she saved her chalice for her fiancé. Nota bene, in a few days I had the opportunity to see this little treasure of hers in its entirety. She wished to have herself examined as a brideto-be. I found fissures in her hymen. On my inquiry, she admitted that someone had seduced her when she was eight or nine. The seducer, however, could not have been a mature male. Utilizing this information, I made an effort to convince her not to deny me her charms, since her husband-to-be would not be getting her as a virgin anyway! I was curious to know how debauched she was. I was rather pleased when she resolutely denied my request (and I consider this strengthened will to be the effect of American morals and breeding). On the other hand, she declared that she loved me and would always love me.
Before she left she brought her fiancé as well. He stood before me, a slim, well-dressed boy with a respectable look. A little thin, but healthy. That is, not completely: he showed a slig
ht orthostatic albuminuria. This, however, I did not tell the girl, nor even the patient. I met Kitty on one other occasion, when she came to escort her mother home. She was quite forthcoming, sought me out, undressed down to her undershirt, hugged me, kissed me, and left with tears in her eyes. Three months later, she sent me a warm-hearted wire in German, inviting me to her wedding.
18 August was approaching. The day set for the arrival of my sweet little Olga. All summer long we had exchanged letters daily and talked on the telephone every week. (I will never forget her sweet, longing, faithful voice, as it flew toward me from Budapest, from her little room above the drugstore.)
I had returned to the poison. Mainly to ensure calmness for our forthcoming and dangerous trysts.
On 18 August, at noon, they arrived. I embraced the sweet girl with overflowing joy – she had been my wife, practically speaking, for almost a year. Kissing her lips, I felt that the sexual delight offered by this girl was incomparable. All the ladies and girls I had kissed all summer out of professional enthusiasm did not give as much joy put together as this woman with a single kiss. In half an hour she was changed and waiting for me in her room. A few pounds heavier than at our last meeting, in her black batiste robe with white dots and her belt-like little corset, she seemed more beautiful than ever. We fell upon each other’s lips eagerly. We were genuinely drunk with ecstasy and our eyes were swimming in tears. After excusing ourselves from her father’s company we were soon walking on the remote paths of the park, arm in arm, experiencing unforgettable, happy feelings. We wanted to fuse with the least possible delay. We found ourselves out in the pine forest, looking for a suitable place. Unfortunately, we could not find appropriate cover, and did not want to awaken the father’s suspicion by staying too long.