The Diary of Geza Csath (4 page)

The chambermaid! This is a new chapter. Short but poignant. She was a 36-year old, fleshy, big-nosed nymphomaniac, procuress for the chambermaids, with huge buttocks, slightly sagging but beautiful breasts, masterfully formed on the whole, with velvet-smooth pink skin. Her brutal healthiness and terrible sensuality captured my attention, calling to mind a Bacchante. On one occasion I saw her in the baths. The wet bathing suit clung to her skin and revealed splendid curves. The formation of the hips, their transition to the back, the body in its entirety was of a rare beauty. I decided then to attend seriously to obtaining it. I intended to be completely loyal to my Olga in our married life, and this type of woman had never appeared on my menu. At noon of 19 July, I trapped her in my room. I locked the door, and since I knew she was money-hungry I gave her ten crowns. A minute later she was prone. She worked with terrible enjoyment, pointing her legs at the ceiling while she balanced her huge buttocks and wide thighs against my belt. The orgasm she induced was significant, and worth the money. On the following day we sacrificed again. She came up at night in a thin blouse and with a wild fire sparkling in her eyes. This mother several times over became ten years younger at these times, moaning as she repeated, ‘It’s so good’, and embracing me frantically. As I discovered, an important part of her enjoyment was that I had neglected her for a long time after having caressed her and hugged her a few times at the very beginning of the season. She knew of my successes and was envious of the little chambermaid I had singled out while neglecting to initiate any new action towards her. I found out from her that Terez had been sent away for stealing a shirt. A shirt, a shirt! That’s when I remembered that I had once warned the girl to put on a nicer blouse or to come in a batiste shirt – then I would undress her and put her into bed. Later I didn’t feel like doing it – but evidently our Terez did get hold of the shirt, even if not by reputable means.
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

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’s
¹⁰
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

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.

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.

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.