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The novel "Josefine Mutzenbacher or
The Story of a Viennese Whore"...

was published anonymously in 1906.

The text is often attributed to
Felix Salten, the author of "Bambi."

In an era of sexual taboos,

the book has been read by generations
as an enlightening and liberating work.

It was banned until 1968,
and in Germany...

it remained on the list

of Writings Harmful to
Young Persons until 2017.

Its salacious and abusive
portrayal of child sexuality...

continues to be controversial to this day.

At the same time, it is a world-renowned
work of pornographic literature.

VIENNA, 25 APRIL 2021

CASTING CALL FOR A FILM ABOUT
JOSEFINE MUTZENBACHER

LOOKING FOR MALE PARTICIPANTS
BETWEEN THE AGES OF 16 AND 99

NO PREVIOUS ACTING
EXPERIENCE REQUIRED

It is impossible to write down
everything that I experienced...

during those years that I was a whore.

Yet my childhood memories,
no matter how varied and eventful...

they may be, have stuck with me,

and I have written of them here.

In effect, they are childhood memories,

but, of course,
of a sexual nature...

and admittedly, not very childlike.

But such memories remain
far more deeply and indelibly...

engraved in our minds

than anything else
that we later experience.

Please, take a seat.

How lovely,

a former erotic sofa.

Is it one?

Probably, who would
have this in their home?

You have the right associations.

Maybe, yes, we'll see.

I'm not supposed to play
Mutzenbacher, am I?

Do you want to?

Yes, of course,
that would be great.

How would you play her?

With depth would be a little cliché,
but yeah...

I mean after everything
that I've learned about her...

Well...

A bit more complex,

not like Mrs. Schubert,
or whatever her name was,

in that one little film.

Yes, I think...

But how do you imagine Pepi?

She must have been good-looking.
That for sure,

based on the descriptions.

Pretty gabby, probably.

And pretty likable.
Otherwise all those men...

wouldn't have flocked to her,
even if they paid for it.

She must have been
an interesting woman.

To me, Mutzenbacher
was a kind of Lolita.

Probably not as flirtatious as Lolita,

but she doesn't regret anything,
as she herself says.

She denies being purely a victim.

I find that very exciting.

Why?

It's unusual for today...

To be a victim is easy.
Or...

Yes, to be a victim of circumstances...

is the easiest thing.

That's why...

those who...

go through it smiling are the heroes.

But they also experience pain.

Good afternoon.

Please, have a seat
on the nice sofa.

A new roomer had moved in with us,
Mr. Eckart.

Right from the start
he was always very friendly to me,

and I would cuddle up to him,
whenever I greeted him.

Once when we were alone again,
I grew very horny...

and went to Mr. Eckart,
who was in the kitchen.

There must have been something
in the way I looked at him, something...

that robbed him of his senses.

I stepped up close
between his spread legs and smiled.

Suddenly his face turned very red,

he pulled me close,

kissed me vehemently,

lifted up my skirt,

and fingered my slit.

He grabbed my hand,

guiding me, and soon
I was holding his tool.

It was so big
that I couldn't wrap my fingers around it.

I immediately began massaging
this big fiery rod up and down,

and he fingered me...

and kissed me.

We rubbed each other
like this for a while...

until he started to come.

I felt it warm and wet
trickling over my hand...

and heard the heavy drops
splattering on the kitchen floor.

And then I came too...

because while he was coming...

his fingers sped up tenfold.

When everything was over,
he sat there startled,

squeezed me in his arms,

and whispered:

"You won't tell anyone, will you?"

Do you know what the book is about?

"The Memoirs of
Josefine Mutzenbacher"?

The story is familiar, yes.

What's it about?

From what I heard, she was a...

"noble" lady from the 60s,

according to what I've read,

who was famous for her occupation.

I do not want
to be more precise.

With pounding heart,

I rang the doorbell
of the landlord's flat.

I was shown into Alois's bedroom...

I was shown into Alois's bedroom,

a big beautiful room
with elegant white furniture.

I felt like I was in paradise.

He showed me his beautifully painted
white bed and his large divan.

Gesturing toward the bed, he said:

"That's where I sleep."

And gesturing toward the divan:

"That's where Clementine sleeps,
the nanny."

Then he showed me
his picture books, his toy soldiers,

his toy rifles, and his saber...

and I never would have thought...

...and I never would have thought,
never would have imagined,

that a child could have it so good.

A few minutes later, the small, fat,
elderly nanny entered the room,

and we were no longer alone,
and all hopes vanished...

of playing as we had the day before.

The nanny sat down on the divan...

and began knitting,
paying no attention to us.

And we sat at the table
covered with tin soldiers...

and played.

Suddenly Alois stood up,

walked over to the nanny,

stood in front of her,

and grabbed her plump,
amply protruding bosom.

I was so stunned...

that I just sat there speechless.

She pushed him away and mumbled,

"Come on, Alois,"

while eyeing me suspiciously.

I went over to her,

grabbed her other breast and squeezed it.

It was so soft and wavy,

and the bony cheeks of the elderly,
cross-eyed nanny flushed red.

Alois had already taken out his tool
and pressed it into the nanny's hand.

She grabbed it
and started playing with it.

With trembling lips,
Clementine asked:

"What does the prick do in the cunt?"

Alois answered as calmly
and seriously as ever:

"It fucks."

"What else is it called?"

And Alois listed:

"Banging, screwing, reaming,

shagging, poking, pounding."

I realized it was a game
that they played together often.

Clementine was getting more excited.
"What else can the prick do?"

"Tickle in the bum, come in the mouth,
lie between the tits."

"And what does Alois want to do now?"

Without waiting for his answer,
she leaned back and closed her eyes.

By turns, Alois fondled one breast,
then the other,

put the nipples into his mouth,

and sucked with all his
might that it smacked.

Alois worked as if he had been trained.

After getting off on first the left,
then the right nipple,

he bent over,

and lifted up her skirt,

revealing Clementine's fat legs.

Then, he stepped between her legs,

spreading her thickly-haired cunt
with one hand,

and with the other one, he expertly guided
his short, strapping tool into her hole,

so that with one shove he was in
all the way up to the hilt.

At snack time I was given cocoa,
which I had never drunk before,

and when I left,
Clementine showed me out.

In the anteroom,
she reached under my skirts,

fondled my cunt, and said:

"Now be smart and don't go blabbering
about this. Then you can come again."

She gave me a tenner
and pushed me out the door.

Does this remind you of anything?
Something you experienced yourself?

Well, I've never had a threesome.

I would say that in general,
especially as a teenager,

my sex life was not very exciting...

because I was incredibly reserved.

Even if I had landed
in a situation like this,

I would have been so...

I would have been
so embarrassed or so shy...

that I probably
wouldn't have been able to get it up.

Or maybe run away?

Run away, I don't know about that.

I definitely would have been interested,
but...

I probably would have been
shaking all over,

and unable to move a muscle,

to be quite honest.

How it would be today,

that's hard for me to say.
But it's definitely exciting.

I'm married now.

And I would never betray my wife,
but I can imagine...

if I were Alois
and my wife were Clementine,

then I could imagine...

that we would be open
to such an adventure.

You as well?

With me it started when I was eleven.
It happened...

while we were playing,
role-playing games...

You would touch each other,
and that's how it started with me.

Maybe not the way...

adults would do it, but, still...

I was already very
self-confident at that age.

I was very open about such things.

I also have a secret about a nanny.

I was in love with our nanny...

and I had...

Yeah, I...

I would secretly smell her underwear.

And her clothes, too,
because I was so crazy about her,

but it never came to any touching,
closeness, or anything like that...

But did you wish
something would happen?

Sure, I had fantasies, but I never...

talked about them or anything like that.

But I was definitely crazy about her, yes.

I had sexual fantasies, so to speak.

Hi Alois.

Hi Pepi.

What are you doing down here?

Looking for something.

Looking for what?

You...

Oh really?

It's pretty dark down here.

True, but there's still something...

exciting about it,
don't you think?

What's on your mind?

What's your plan?

I think you know...

what's on my mind.

Do you think we're alone here?

I don't see anyone.

I don't hear anyone.

Well then...

Let's find ourselves a nice spot.

Look, what about back here?

Here?

You don't think anyone will see us?

Not down here.

Would you really want
to act out the sex scenes...

of which there are plenty in the book?

I could imagine that.
But like I said,

only with a woman,

not with a man.

How young could the woman be?

How young?

Well,
just so there aren't any legal problems.

16 plus.

But...

upwards from that I'm relatively open...

in terms of age.

It's interesting,
because the casting revealed...

a certain mixture of people
who you chose or who applied.

Because I think
there are two large groups:

There's the group
who really respects you as a director...

or who has no acting experience
and just wants to see what it's like...

to stand in front of a camera
with a microphone here...

and meet you personally and so on.

And then there are the people
who are more...

drawn to the text.

And that has become obvious now,
because I'm taken by surprise.

I never thought
I would be doing anything sexual.

- Really?
- No.

You don't trust me to pull it off?

That's an interesting question,
sure I do.

But, like I said,
I trust you as a director.

So if I told you
to take off your clothes and...

have sex with whomever - with a tree -
you would do it. Because you trust me?

Well, at least I'd think about it.

I wouldn't say yes right away.

But I think...

Yeah, it's an interesting question.
I think with a tree...

I'd probably say yes...

No, but joking aside,
I think that it...

really depends on who the director is.

Because I trust
that this will have artistic value.

I mean, this is also a dimension of misuse,
me sitting here in front of the camera...

not knowing how it will be edited,

how I'll be represented.

Especially when you read scenes like this,
when you...

talk very openly about these things,

you can practically
edit anything out of it.

I'll always stay inside,

just take your time, just take your time.

I won't come. Would it be
unpleasant if I pulled out now?

Now all of a sudden
I'm allowed to fuck you?

Now I'm allowed?

And at first,
you brushed me off.

And at first,
you brushed me off.

But now I can play with your titties.
What? Now you're no longer saying:

"I am a faithful wife."

Are you familiar with the book?

I haven't read it, to be honest.

But you have? Maybe you can tell him
a little bit about it...

since you've read it.

I'm not sure
how old she is in the beginning,

but it starts when she's a girl...

and lasts until the age of 17/18.

And there is a lot of...

rough sex in the basement
and in the attics.

And...

girls, children with men.

Everything is very vulgar and close.

The most common lines are:

"You didn't see anything, did you?"

"You won't say anything, will you?"

And the most common words...

in connection with women are
"cunt" and "teats."

With men...

"wood" maybe, and "pecker."

So it's relatively crude...

One thing I noticed while reading...
We live in a time...

that is hostile towards men.

And here the women,
at least the ones in the book,

seem to have still had their fun
with men and with masculinity and...

physical exchange.

In the times we are living in now,

that has become completely lost,
because you only hear about...

the assaults that men commit and...

the darker sides in every form.

Here,

they appear to have had fun with men.

That's a very interesting aspect.

Can you give an example of how you
experience this hostility towards men?

Yes, you experience it
mainly through the media...

or through...

It occurred to me today that we
have the concept of toxic masculinity

but not the concept of toxic femininity.

And you only talk about...

the toxic in men.

And everything else gets pushed aside.

Take flirting, for example,

that's what you used to call it.

That's gone now.

But also because...

you can't be sure
if it's going to come back and bite you.

So...

But they still had fun,

from the perspective
of the woman toward a man.

These days women don't go running around
saying: "I'm having fun with a man."

Well, I don't know of any.

You don't either?

I do.

That would be very sad.

I have one more question.

Who would you play, since you've read it,

if you could choose? And what
role would you give your colleague?

Yes, well,

the only role I could play
is the boy who says: "I can't."

She takes a boy down to the basement,
a kid from the neighborhood.

And she tells him: "You have
a prick, so, of course, you can."

And he says: "I can't, I can't"...

and leaves the basement
without having sex with her.

That would be the only role
I could offer to play as an actor.

Oh my God, oh my God,
you're poking my stomach.

Ah... I can't take it,
I'm coming every second...

Now... Now...
I just came again, ah...

that's so good...
Hold back a bit... don't come yet.

Jesus.
If my husband could fuck like this...

Ah, that's so good.
No one's ever done it to me like this.

I can feel it all the way up
to my mouth.

If I'd known how good you are,
I would have put out ages ago...

I would have put out ages ago.

I'd have to be a fool
not to let a man like you into my pants.

I'm coming again...

Harder, harder...

No one can do it like this.

When my husband fucks me,
I don't even come.

My husband, he just doesn't get it.

You know, he can't hold back.

He gets up on top of me,
sticks his prick in and comes.

I'm always so horny
after he has fucked me...

that I have to do it with my hand...

I've often thought,
it's got to work with him!

The second time around
he'll need longer and then I can come.

But...

he can't get it up for a second round.

Only sometimes, when I jerk him off hard
and take it in my mouth...

Yes.
The things such a man can get you to do.

Yes.
The things such a man can get you to do.

I can't help it.
Just so he can get it up...

I've taken it into my mouth a few times,
but in vain.

When he finally got it up
and I quickly stuffed it back in...

Bam...

he came right away, and again,
all the excitement was for nothing.

Sorry.

Do you talk while doing it?

No.

Oh, wait - doing what?

Oh, doing it... sure.

Like this...?

Well...

No.

A bit different.

We do talk though, sure.

Why talk?
What good is it?

What good is it?

Why do you talk when you're doing it?

It just comes naturally, actually.
You just talk about it.

"Should we do it like this or like that?"
"Another way this time?"

"How do you feel?"
"Do you want it harder?"

"Less hard?"

Things like that.

Because here,
talking is part of the pleasure.

Yes, yes, exactly.

Well, some people don't talk.

Yes, true.
And some turn off the lights...

Everything is possible.

I prefer talking.

"Sweetie, angel, honey,

sweetheart, beloved."

"Sweetie, angel, honey,

sweetheart, beloved."

"Sweetie, angel, honey,
sweetheart, beloved."

Right from the beginning
during the post-war years...

we would go to Hirscheninsel,
to the nude beaches.

And you would casually
walk around naked.

Back then, sexuality was different.

It didn't bother me,
it didn't bother anybody.

One wasn't put off by it in any way.

Which brings us back to sexuality...
Before, everything was more open.

Today everything is so artificial
and so inhibited, so...

That's how it is,

it gets pushed into a corner...

and somehow criminalized.

All under the motto:
"It's against the rules."

"It's bad, it's...

shameful, it's yucky, it's gross.
Don't do it."

When I was 20 I used to hang out
with a friend in Vienna, he was a barber.

He had an uncle,
who was a bricklayer...

who didn't just specialize in bricks,

and so women would go to him,

not to get their bricks laid,

but to get laid themselves.

Yes, but that was back then.
But today?

It's still the same today,
you'll find people for sure...

At my age
I'm not so interesting anymore.

But when I was 40, 45 years old,

women would approach me,

the slightly older ones,

and they would lift up
their skirts and ask:

"Do you like what you see?

Want to see more?
My old man can't get it up anymore,

come over to my place,
he'll watch us screw."

So we went there
and made this young,

or older woman happy.

Well, that was the older generation,
but in this book it's purely...

a childlike or a childish way of living...

Through the bricklayer,
I met a woman once,

and she had a 14-year-old daughter.

"Come to my place
and we'll take some photos, okay?"

Well, the first thing
she did was take off her clothes.

So I took a few photos, and she said:
"Of my daughter, too, please."

"Sure."
And then...

my friend said:
"There are other things we can do too."

"These nipples need to shine, I'll wet
them for you" and he sucked on them.

She said:

"Please stop,
or my husband will suffer tonight."

"No," he said,
"we're not gonna wait that long."

And then we did it.

And her daughter:
"Can I join in?"

These things happen too.

You just have to find the right people...

Okay?

The Locksmith's Apprentice.

My father was a dirt poor
saddler's helper,

who worked in a shop in Josefstadt.

We lived far out in Ottakring
in a new tenement building...

that was filled from top to bottom
with poor tenants.

All these people
had lots of children,

and in the summer
the yard was too small for them.

I myself had two brothers,

both were slightly older than me.

My father, mother, and us 3 kids lived
in a flat with a kitchen and one room...

along with a roomer.

There were dozens of these roomers
in succession.

They came and went,
some peacefully, some in disagreement.

One was a locksmith's apprentice,
a dark-haired, sad-looking fellow...

with very small, black eyes
whose face was always covered in soot.

We children were afraid of him.

He was always quiet
and hardly said a word.

I remember him coming home
one afternoon...

while I was alone in the flat.

I was five years old
and sat playing on the floor.

My mother and two brothers
were at Fürstenfeld,

my father had not come home from work.

The locksmith picked me up off the floor
and sat me on his lap.

I wanted to scream,
but he whispered:

"Be quiet, I'm not gonna hurt you!"

And then he leaned me backwards,
lifted up my little skirt,

and looked at me,
while I lay naked on his knees.

I was so afraid of him,
but I remained very still.

When he heard my mother,
he quickly put me back down...

and went into the kitchen.

A few days later,
he came home early again...

and my mother asked him
to watch me.

He promised, and again held
me on his knees the whole time,

gazing at my bare torso.

He didn't talk,
but just stared at that one spot...

and I didn't dare say anything either.

This happened a few more times
while he was staying with us.

I didn't understand any of this
and, like most children,

didn't give it much thought.

Today, I know what it meant,

and I often call that
locksmith's apprentice my first lover.

He interrupted me:

"So you didn't want to do it and it
was only involuntarily pleasant, correct?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"Please doctor,"
the inspector turned to the doctor,

"would you examine the child?"

I had no idea what I was in for...

when the doctor asked me
to climb onto a high chair.

He lifted my skirt, grabbed my cunt
and spread my lips with his fingers.

Then I felt him sticking something
hard inside and pulling it back out.

"Yes, it's true," he said.
"The child has had intercourse."

Embarrassed and confused,
I got down from the chair.

"Mr. Mutzenbacher,"
the inspector said in a serious tone:

"I am very sorry
you have to hear such sad news.

It is deplorable that an
irresponsible and confused priest...

took your daughter's innocence.

Take solace in that she is young.
No one will find out about this.

And through a strict moral upbringing

you will hopefully prevent
any bad consequences."

That was great.
In the beginning, dry.

My German is not so good,
but I still thought...

even I could read it better.

But then you were totally into in.
You killed it.

I had to warm up to it.

But back to the story,
I think that is something that...

could have happened in the 60s and 70s.

Or did happen.

You hear about these things...

in children's homes and seminaries...

- Seminary students, etc.
- Exactly.

And lots of cover-ups.

So,

if it was normal during the 1960s,

what would it have been like
in the early 20th century?

Yes, I've heard stories.
I live out in the country and there,

70-year-old grandmothers tell me about
their school days when they were 12, 13,

and teachers checked to see
if they had breasts.

That was perfectly normal.

- Checked!
- Yes.

It's unthinkable today,
thank God, but back then...

There was obviously a sense of wrongdoing.
Why the examination otherwise?

With an inspector and a doctor.

Even back then
people knew it wasn't right.

But this examination of the child
is absurd.

Why?

In front of the police,
in front of the father...

Today, that would be unthinkable.

It's done with a doctor and that's it.

And probably with a
female confidant besides.

The police is not in the room
and just gets a report.

I think she was caught up in this scene,

she experienced something...

that she didn't perceive
as bad at the time.

It didn't become bad until afterwards,
with all the questions.

Yes, that's when the
victim blaming starts,

with all the questions
from the inspector.

Whether the girl herself was to blame.

It was always the girl's fault anyway.

Either her clothes were too skimpy
or she was too...

It was always like that.
It wasn't like it is today...

that he ends up in prison...

It is still like that today.

Well,

she only realizes afterwards...

that this is something
that is generally regarded as negative...

and starts to think:
"What answers do I give?"

- Which answer should...
- What does he want to hear?

Exactly,
what does he want to hear?

It turns into an interrogation...

in which she also realizes,
that she...

cannot tell the truth.

Especially with her
father listening, right?

Exactly, yes.

That means that...

whether intentionally or not,
she was being led.

I don't think it was intentional,

they probably just didn't know any better.

This girl definitely came out
of the examination thinking:

"Maybe it was my fault."

Yes, but the father was a pig, too.

He did it as well, and...

The father was no better
than the guy who did it.

They are like in "Dogville",
they're all pigs.

They all took advantage of her,

and in the end
she made the best of it.

She didn't suffer.

Everyone tried to tell her:
"This is not okay,"

but they also tried to abuse her.

Every one of them.
Including her father.

And when she was 17 or 13 or
18, she just made the best of it.

Because...

she is a fighter...

and a sensualist,
and she is great, the little one.

She didn't end up damaged because of it.

But if she had stayed
in her village,

she would have been damaged...

and become really nothing.

Probably also beaten by her husband
and whatever else.

But no, she didn't do that. She...

That's a very free interpretation.

- It's my opinion.
- Okay.

So, you may start.

The next day,
after going to see the inspector,

my father said to me:

"I wanted to give you a proper beating...

because you're such a filthy pig."

I was shocked:
"But it wasn't my fault!"

"Well," he growled, "I suppose
you're right, that son of a bitch."

After a while he said:

"What's done is done."

And after a short while:

"But, from now on, I'm gonna
keep an eye on you, understand?

You'll go nowhere
without my permission,

and,"

he faltered...

then shouted:

"And from now on,

you'll sleep here!"

He pointed at Mother's bed.

So from that night on,
I slept in the bed next to my father.

A few nights later I woke up,

I had been sleeping soundly
and was awaken by his touch.

He lay close to me, had...

uncovered my breasts,
and was playing with my nipples.

He played with them
so quietly, so tenderly,

that both grew hard and stiff.

I pretended to be asleep.

A tremendous curiosity overcame me
as I wondered what he would do with me.

I already suspected what he would do,
but I was terribly ashamed,

and besides, I wasn't sure
if this wasn't some kind of new test.

I kept very still.

Suddenly he lifted the blanket
and raised my shirt.

My heart pounded loudly
with fear and lust...

because I still believed
it was some sort of test.

It was a vague, dull notion...

that took control of me
along with my sensual excitement.

But as his hand...

touched my slit,

I couldn't help twitching,
and he stopped suddenly.

I pretended...

to be unaware of his actions,

snoring quietly.
He swung himself between my legs...

propped himself up on his arms,
and got up on top of me...

without touching me except with the...

tip of his cock.

I could not contain myself,
I was so overcome by horniness.

He moved up and down,

pressing his hot tool...

quietly against my cunt.

I continued...

to snore.

He kept his tool at the
opening of my pussy,

quietly rubbing it back and forth,
and making me incredibly horny.

I expected,

I hoped that any moment
he would finally stick it in.

At that point he discharged.

My hair and belly were doused
with the warm flood.

Immediately afterwards,
he moved away from me,

quietly and carefully,
so that I wouldn't wake up.

Only now did I realize exactly...

what my father's intentions with me were.

Hot. Nice.

Incest.

Natural.

Yes...

Above all, well written, I think.

Did you like it too?

I would say one needs some...

time in order to digest the whole thing.

Really?

- I think so, yes.
- I don't anymore, I know it too well.

Yes...

But that is the nice thing about...

one of us being older
and the other, younger.

Tell him something.

What?

Then tell him something.

How I would do it? Or...

what I know from my own experience?

- What it was like for me?
- Exactly.

Well, with me it was totally different.

Even as a three-year-old,
at the boarding school...

run by friars...

I always wondered...

why the other boys weren't doing
the same thing under their blankets?

And...

I waited for them
to start playing with their...

tiny ding-a-lings,

but they never did, and...

that made me wonder
why this was happening to me.

Because...

if you are the only one,

you start thinking it's strange.

But since it made me happy,
I knew it couldn't be wrong.

That's understandable.

And that's...

why it started so early with me.

And I also just let it take its course.

So for me it was never...

anything that made me feel alienated.

Because the night came at the
end of every day. It was always there.

Nowadays it's no longer
as dramatic, sadly.

Because there was also this wonderful
feeling of pleasure.

And did your parents
find out about it?

That's none of my parents' business.

I never felt it was something
my parents...

had to know about.

But at some point,
I can imagine that...

Only when I was seduced,

when someone wanted to seduce me,

then I felt the urge...

to tell my mother.

Because then it wasn't just my fault,
there was this other person too.

But my mother let me
sleep in her bed for a long time.

Between my parents.

And I remember...

when I was getting older,
maybe 8 years old,

and I used to press
myself hard against her.

Then I wasn't allowed
to do that anymore.

She wouldn't let me
sleep in their bed after that.

Well, everyone
experiences it differently.

I have to say that improvisation
is pretty difficult for me.

I'd be willing to read aloud, but...

I don't have a lot of
experience with improvisation.

Okay, then just watch him
and he'll do it alone.

Ah, c'mon.

It's difficult.

But it's only about sexuality.
Everyone has it.

Yes, but maybe it's my moral index finger
piping up...

and says that...

The way it's described
in the book and how...

Yes...

Sure, you could say, okay,
she likes it and later she evolved and...

was able to integrate it
into her sense of "womanness"...

and in the way...

she dealt with men,

but I personally can't get the
moral aspect out of my mind.

I can't turn it off.

Yes.

I just don't find it cool...

when little children,
little girls are abused.

And that's simply how it is,
in this story.

Of course, you can always
direct the focus elsewhere.

Because it's not only that.
Maybe this is just a small excerpt,

and then it goes on
to how she develops and so on...

But I probably automatically
transfer those things...

onto events
that might actually happen in real life.

Now it's going to get difficult,
gentlemen.

You've already memorized the first part.
Should we do it again?

Okay, let's do it again.

"What does the prick do in the cunt?"

"It fucks."

"What does the prick do in the cunt?"

"It fucks."

"What does the prick do in the cunt?"

"It fucks."

Now for the next part. Question:
"What else is it called?"

"What else is it called?"

"Banging, screwing, reaming,
shagging, poking, pounding."

It's never going to work.

- I'll read it again, okay?
- Yes, please.

"Banging, screwing, reaming, shagging...

You mean ramming. Ramming.

Reaming.

It says "reaming."

Is ramming better?

Reaming!

- It's literature, we can't change it.
- Ah okay, literature.

Reaming. So...
"Banging, screwing, reaming,

shagging, poking, pounding."

- We could start like this...
- I can divide it up, first I can ask:

"And what else is it called?"

And then come the first three.
And then I ask again, "and what else?"

Aha, I see. Yes, we can try that.

That would be a little easier.

Did everyone in the back
hear that?

No!

No? I'm going to tell this side
how the sentence goes again.

Once more.

The first sequence is:

"What does the prick do in the cunt?"
he asks.

Then everyone says: "It fucks."

"What else is it called?" he asks,

and then, memorize:

"Banging, screwing, reaming, shagging..."

And what else?

"...poking, pounding."

Let's try it once all together!

"Banging, screwing, reaming,
shagging, poking, pounding."

Again.

"Banging, screwing, reaming,
shagging, poking, pounding."

Now try it alone.

"Banging, screwing, reaming,
shagging, poking, pounding."

Wow.

If nobody looks at him, you can
stay there. You're not in the picture.

Okay?

Okay.

Don't look at him.

He is one of you.

All right?

Ready? Sound is rolling,
camera is rolling.

"And what else?"

"Banging, screwing..."

No, no, no, no, sorry, wrong.

We're starting from the beginning.

We're doing the whole thing.

It starts with: "What does
the prick do in the cunt?" Okay?

1, 2, 3.

"What does the prick do in the cunt?"

"It fucks."

"And what else?"

"Well, how about it?" he asked.

That's what they all asked.

And I said:
"Should I walk on ahead? It isn't far."

"No," he said,
"I don't want to go to your place."

"Fine," I said smiling,

since I was prepared for that too.

"We'll stay here then."

"Here?" he said, surprised.

"Yes," I reassured him.
"On the stairs, no one lives here,

we can do anything."

He didn't want that either.

"Come to my place!" he commanded.
"You'll be paid handsomely."

He saw me hesitating and added:
"Like never before.

I pay better than everyone else."

He impressed me
and struck me as trustworthy.

"Fine," I said, "but you have
to give me the money up front."

"At my place," he urged,
"you'll get your money...

as soon as we walk through the door."

We left the gate together,

and after walking down several
small streets, he hailed a carriage.

We got in and as we drove away,
he asked:

"You probably think
I want to fuck you, right?"

I gave him a coquettish smile:
"Well, what else?"

"I want something else entirely,"
he said mysteriously.

I couldn't help smiling
and tried to act smart:

"Aha, I know," I said.

"Well what then?"
he teased back.

"Perhaps in the mouth?"
I guessed.

"No," he said smiling.
"What are you thinking!"

"From behind?"
I guessed again.

He shook his head.

Then I thought maybe he wanted
to be treated like the young man...

we thrashed with birches.

"Would you like to be whipped?"
I guessed again.

"Oh Lord, you know your stuff!"
he said.

"No, not that either."

"Well, then I really don't know."
I gave up.

"I want to photograph you," he said.

"Photos?"

"That's right, to photograph you nude,
in all sorts of different positions."

I laughed.

I'd never been photographed before
and thought...

I would get some nice pictures of myself.

Nice, thank you.

Did you take nude photos, too?

Yes.

Positions, too?

Poses yes,
I wouldn't say positions, but...

certain poses, yes.

But it was not about...

Sorry, we have to start again.
Could you ask the question again?

There was an airplane.

Ah, there was an airplane.

Did you shoot nude photos, too,
positions, porn...?

Well, not porn,

but nude photos, yes.

Nude photos yes, and...

it's a delicate matter, you know?

But most of the time
you play with shadows...

so that you...

show less and allude instead,

you leave more in the shadows.

The movement from light
to dark has to be good.

It's such a meticulous task
to get the lighting right,

and it isn't like with Rembrandt,
where you just have...

a white patch on the face,
and the rest is in the shadows.

It's much more complicated with nudes.

And every woman is totally different.

My God, you can't learn a thing,
because every woman...

has a different body,

it works totally different
with the lighting.

And it also takes forever. If you do
a good job, it takes up the whole day.

So when I did it,
we would spend hours...

in the studio.
With lunch in between and so on.

Who were your customers?

Well...

Women,

adult women.

One who... um...

I can't really say, because you can
draw your conclusions, but...

Women...

who trust a photographer...

and who feel
that with him they are in good hands,

who are probably searching for a part
of their own identity in the photo.

And they...

might do it once or twice in their life.
Those were my customers.

They don't come once a month
to do this kind of nonsense.

Yes...

Very different, yes.

Did they do it for themselves
or for a man?

These ones did it for themselves.

They always left the man out.

They always had one
somewhere in the background,

but he never came with them
to the studio.

Thank God.

A new position.

Lie down, Albert.

Melanie...

go stand over him,

lean forward.

Albert, take her breast in your hand...

hold it still with your hand
or I'll have to come help you.

I'm starting over because
it's about his hand actually.

It's not her breast he's
supposed to hold still but his hand.

I'm starting again, okay?

New position.

Albert, lie down...

Melanie, go stand over him,

lean forward.

Albert, take her breast in your hand...

hold your hand still...

or I'll have to come help you.

Peperl, now take his tool
and stick it in.

But don't let it out of your hand.

Not so deep Melanie.

You have to see Peperl's hand.

That's good.

How often have I explained to you...

that we're only doing positions...
it's called "just pretending."

Pretending is permissible,

but I would never allow my wife
to be fucked by another man.

Look at the camera...

smile!

Pepi, you too.

Now...

one...

two...

three...

four...

five...

done!

It was a summer afternoon,
but inside the large rectory...

I was enveloped by a holy coolness
and silence that filled me with awe.

I read the nameplates
on the doors...

and knocked on the one that said:
"Father Mayer."

He opened the door himself.

I politely greeted him:
"Praised be Jesus Christ."

"Forever, everlasting,"
he answered.

I kissed his warm fleshy hand,
and he closed the door.

"Come," he said.

We knelt side by side on the kneeling
bench and said the Lord's Prayer.

Then he led me by the hand
to the grandfather armchair and sat down.

I stood in front of him,
leaning against the desk.

"Well," he said, "I'm listening."

But I kept quiet and in my confusion
didn't know where to start.

"Well, tell me!"

I remained quiet and looked at the floor.

"You know you have sinned - unchastity -
a deadly sin, you understand?

And with your own brother - incest."

I heard this word for the first time
and began to tremble.

He continued:

"Perhaps you're damned,
and have forever forfeited your salvation.

If I am to save your soul,
I must know everything exactly."

His voice was quiet
and hesitant as he spoke.

And it made such an impression on me
that I started to cry.

"Don't cry," he commanded.

I sobbed.

He spoke more gently.

"Come, child, don't cry.

Everything will be all right.
Just tell me."

I wiped away the tears,
but still couldn't speak.

He lay his hand lightly on my breast,

which was already sticking out
beneath my blouse.

I felt the warmth emanating from him,
and it calmed me.

"It is the work of Satan,"
he continued,

"that he would give a child
the breasts of a woman."

Meanwhile, he took my other breast,
and was now holding both.

I saw nothing wrong with this,

but listened to him,
full of excitement and edification.

"Women must hide their teats!"
he said.

"They have to remain hidden
and be tied up so as not to excite men.

These teats are instruments of lust.

God gave them to women,
so that they may nurse their children,

but the devil made them
into a toy for the unchaste."

"So, how did it all happen?"
the Father asked me again.

But again, I couldn't speak.

"All right," he said gently,
"I understand."

"Your heart is pure,
and it shames you to speak of such things.

If you can't speak,
you'll show me through gestures...

what it is that you have done!"

"I will, Your Reverence,"
I promised gratefully.

Placing...

my thighs on his shoulders,
his mouth approached my slit and...

I could feel his hot breath against it.

Oh, how I enjoyed it...

when I felt his thick
hot lips on my labia...

when he - with his soft, hot tongue -

licked my cunt from top to bottom.

A feeling I'd never known before
made me tremble.

I'd never experienced such pure delight.

It was I who usually
serviced men with my mouth.

This brave priest
was the first man...

to lend me his tongue.

I twitched my buttocks
and tightened my man-trap.

He lifted his head and asked me:

"Do you like it?"

Trembling with desire
and wishing for more,

I quickly answered,
"Yes, Your Reverence."

Again he began running his tongue
over my hole and over my lustful snatch...

so delicately that the delight I felt
was painfully gratifying.

"This cleanses you," he said.

"This cleanses you of everything."

He then began to work on my clit.

I felt as if every sensation
were suddenly down there, my mouth, my...

nipples, the inner core of my cunt.

Wherever the tip of his tongue
touched me,

electricity seemed to
shoot through my body.

It took my breath away.

The room was spinning all around me
and I closed my eyes.

He slipped in deeper and drove...

his tongue into my opening.

My bum danced a Czardas
on the desk.

What was fucking
compared to such stimulus!

One can imagine what men thought
and how they took advantage, thinking:

that's how it is
and I'll do what I want...

and whatever makes me happy.

I can imagine that.

But today, many men claim that women are
too strong, and that makes them impotent,

they can't do it anymore
and they're weak.

That's total bullshit.

Of course, one's gaze changes.

If you're with the same partner
for 30, 20, 40 years,

your gaze can change.

But...

you can always find new ways
of looking at this person...

because everyone grows,
everyone develops,

everyone has new sides,
and everyone can find themselves, and...

an old body is just as beautiful
as a young body...

if you treat the old body...

accordingly with respect and love.
That's all.

If we look at this
Mutzenbacher from today's perspective...

Of course, it's a portrayal of evil men,
who exercise power,

whether it's the father, the chaplain,
the priest, or whoever...

The brother...

But she always adds that she, too,

feels pleasure.
That she also feels joy.

And maybe it's an apology for men...

and that is bad, right?

Or I don't know if it's bad,
but...

it gives the impression that the
novel was written for that purpose.

In order to excuse men
for the evil deeds they do.

You can see
how they tried to do that...

by whitewashing...

Yes, yes, it's a joy for the women...

...and poeticizing her sensations
because you want to believe it.

Which suggests it was
written by a man after all.

But it is a male fantasy
to screw a little girl.

I think it's inside everyone.

No, not in everyone.
Definitely not. No.

And particularly in those
who dispute it.

I don't want to insinuate anything...

The idea never even occurred to me...

Only in your imagination.

I wouldn't even find it interesting.

No, it's not about executing
the fantasy.

It's about how the spark...

of this thought
exists in everyone...

and you immediately put up a barrier.

- That's how it is.
- No.

That's how I would describe it.

- Not with a child, not with a girl.
- You can't, sure.

Not even a feeling, not even a spark.

I can't understand
how that could excite anyone.

It's unclear to me. Totally.

Let's put it this way...

From the moment on...

when a woman's development
starts to become visible...

When you're...

walking through the city
and in front of you, you see...

a beautiful woman's butt,

and then the woman turns around
and you start...

because she's a 12-year-old,

right there you have
that spark inside of you

and we're still not talking
about a teenager.

You have that spark inside you
and, of course, then it's gone.

I don't have that spark,
because once I realize that she's young,

I have no spark.
The spark I had is gone.

But I didn't see that before.

Because I thought it was a woman.

Yes. But again...

I can't deny that the spark is there.

I can't deny a certain arousal.

But from the first moment on,
where you sense...

that there is a possible
biological receptiveness...

A child - we don't need
to talk about that.

But you can see that.

And as soon you recognize femininity...

But actually we are still
talking about children.

Finish with relish!

Finish with relish!

Finish with relish!

For the beginning I'll sit up straight...

Then maybe you'll lie down...

Once I've read the text,
I'll have to lie down, right?

- I don't know yet...
- Let's find out.

Exactly.

So what I've learned about Josefine...

Okay... she really got around.

Yes.

Had a lot of sex in her life...

with a lot of men.
Apparently made a living from it.

A Viennese girl,
a harlot, as they say.

Yeah, I read up about it,
it's a novel...

about Josefine Mutzenbacher.

But now I'll read aloud, all right?

Okay.

Ferdl told us girls
that our cunts were still sealed shut,

so you could only rub them on the outside.

And that, as we got older,

hair would grow there,

that our hole would open up,

and that then you'd be able
to stick the entire cock inside.

This text is very salacious.

I didn't want to believe it,
but Anna assured me...

that Ferdl knew
what he was talking about.

Ferdl said that he had fucked
Mrs. Reinthaler in the attic,

and his cock had gone
all the way into her hole.

While Ferdl was explaining this to us,

he reached under my skirt
and touched me there.

Franz did the same to Anna.

I had Ferdl's cock in my hand,
and I was very much enjoying...

the way he was fingering me.

It tickled. Not in a way
that made me laugh,

but in a way that sent a feeling of
well-being throughout my entire body.

This activity was interrupted by Anna,
who took both dolls...

and placed one of them
on her stomach under her dress...

and the other one under mine.

"There," she said, "now we're expecting."

The two of us went around the room,
sticking our stuffed bellies out...

and laughing.

Then we gave birth to our children,

cradled them in our arms,
and gave them to our husbands...

to hold and admire.

And for a while we played
like innocent children.

I have to let the text sink in a bit.

I wouldn't have thought
that it was so deep.

Not as superficial as I'd thought.

Where it's really about
foul Viennese language.

And it's really about the first time.

Where the girls don't really know...

what they are in for.

And then...

they are presented
with accomplished facts.

That's how it seems to me.

Unaccomplished facts.

That they were somehow pushed
into it by Ferdl.

Perhaps maybe even a little forced
to do these things.

How was it for you as a child?

Well, I was a late bloomer,
I was around 16 years old...

by the time I even started
thinking about sex or wanting it.

Before that,
I remember that I was...

maybe around 14...

when I saw my first porn movie,
in which...

a girl was giving
a guy a blow job.

And for me that was so strange.

It totally grossed me out.

And then it made me laugh,
just imagining the situation...

It made me laugh inside.

Because it was embarrassing for you?

It wasn't embarrassing,
it was just the situation:

How can you put someone's cock
into your mouth and suck it?

I mean that's gross,
your pee comes out of there.

That's what I was thinking.

But you were 14, so you knew
something else came out of there too.

When I was 14...

I was somehow, I don't know...

maybe like a girl, who...

doesn't have a clue about anything.
I was a late bloomer.

I was somehow so awkward
when I was 14.

I didn't really know anybody who had
already had sex. I mean people my age.

No, not really.

The party I mentioned,
that was the first time...

I came into contact
with anything like that.

I had just turned 14, I was 13 or 14.

Yes, and then not long after that...

I liked what I saw.

That was later, when I was 16.

That mouth thing, you mean?

Blow jobs, yes.
I enjoyed giving those myself.

I'm gay.
I'm outing myself here.

When did you realize it?

It became clear to me when I was 16.

But I had always been
interested in boys,

this feeling of being in love:

"Oooh, that boy is cute,
I like him," and so on.

With girls, it was never a thing
that I could somehow like girls.

Maybe that explains why I thought:

"How could a girl give a boy a blow job?"

Maybe that's why it was somehow
different for me.

I see.

And I've had my experiences
with prostitution, too.

I tried it myself
because I hardly had any money.

But with gays it was a little different.
For that you went to a public toilet.

There were men
masturbating around a urinal.

And...

if an older man tried to approach me,

I'd say:
"That'll cost ya somethin'."

Everyone discovers himself.

Yes. But I don't know really.

Yeah, everyone discovers it for
him- or herself. And I also think that...

especially with guys...
Because girls tend to talk about it less,

or at least not with guys...

But guys like to...

test it out...

and then...

literally play around,

in order to discover
their own barriers or limitations,

to find out what the body
can and cannot do.

And...

I think that's also something beautiful,

that you're somehow able to...

massage yourself
into an ecstasy of happiness.

Massage yourself into...

Or I don't know...

You're the older one here.

I'm only one year older than you.

Massage yourself
into an ecstasy of happiness, I mean...

That just left me a little speechless.

Maybe to get into a...

Massage yourself
into an ecstasy of happiness.

I don't know how else to say it.
I don't want to use these vulgar...

Masturbation, jerking off.

Yeah, but if you are on that level,
where you're just satisfied...

But that's a really good expression.
I'll have to remember that...

Yeah, I simply respect my body.

Yeah but, jaxxen.

Ah, c'mon please.

Long, thin and strikingly white.

Short and quite thick.

Big and red-hot.

Thick, short, upright.

Thin, white, crooked.

Standing tall.

Hello.

Please take a seat on our couch,

and just sit there for a while.

Ferdl told us girls
that our cunts were still sealed shut,

so you could only rub them on the outside.

And that, as we got older,
hair would grow there,

our hole would open up, and then you'd
be able to stick the entire cock inside.

I didn't want to believe it, but Anna said
Ferdl knew what he was talking about.

Ferdl said that he had fucked
Mrs. Reinthaler in the attic.

And his cock had gone
all the way into her hole.

While Ferdl was explaining this to us,

he reached under my skirt
and touched me there.

Franz did the same to Anna.

I had Ferdl's cock in my hand,
and I was very much enjoying...

the way he was fingering me.

It tickled. Not in a way
that made me laugh, but in a way...

that sent a feeling of well-being
throughout my entire body.

This activity was interrupted by Anna,
who took both dolls...

and placed one of them on her stomach
under her dress...

and the other under mine.

"There," she said,
"now we're expecting."

The two of us went around the room,

sticking our stuffed bellies out
and laughing.

Then we gave birth to our children,
cradled them in our arms,

and gave them to our husbands
to hold and admire.

And for a while
we played like innocent children.

If I could just comment
on this straight away.

These are experiences
that I think...

maybe not like this - everyone has had,
but normally it's divided up.

I remember that in kindergarten -

especially in kindergarten -

we used to play house.
All the time, in fact.

Of course, not like this, just normal
stuff, like someone would cook or...

we would build a house or something, of
course, without all this sexual content.

And then for me this gets mixed up with
when you're a teenager or young adult,

or whenever
these first sexual experiences happen.

Because it's similar to this,

when you lose your virginity,

and maybe that's the case for
both of you - like it was with me.

Then you're both so awkward...

and you're still figuring everything out,

"Like this feels good
and this doesn't."

But here everything
is all mixed up, these phases...

that actually should be
happening years apart.

But when considered separately,

I think these two experiences
are something everyone understands, right?

The memory that suddenly shot into my head
and that...

is comparable to this, at least to
a certain extent, has to do with...

the use of foul language,

but with no equivalent
to the actual deed itself.

It was where my grandmother lived...

I think I was 9 or 10,
and there were other kids...

with whom we played together all the time.
They were already 13/14.

So there was about a 4-year age gap
between the two groups.

The larger group consisted of
the younger ones, 9 and 10, and...

then there were a few
13- or 14-year-olds.

And that summer,
they pitched a tent -

a camping tent -
in the grass between the buildings.

It was a housing complex
in Vienna, in Meidling.

So they had this tent
that you could zip closed.

And the way the game worked was
that a boy and girl went into the tent -

it was like a game of courage -

and inside, they had to "fuck."

I think that was the first time
I became conscious of that word,

and I had no clear
idea of what it really meant,

except that it had
something to do with...

physical, human closeness
between two people.

Go in there and "fuck!"

And some of us did it.

Of course, we don't know
what the others really did in there.

Some may have played it out explicitly.

I can't remember,
I think it was Petra...

I was good friends with several girls.

Marion and Petra
were good friends of mine.

I don't remember who I went
into the tent with, but I did go inside,

I think it was Petra,

and we just sat there for ten minutes
and stared at each other,

or we looked at the ground
and did absolutely nothing.

We didn't even touch or anything.

And then we came out and said:
"We fucked."

And the reason
why I think I remember this...

why it has remained so strongly as the
only sexualized image of my childhood...

is that afterwards I went upstairs,

and my mother was there
with my grandparents,

and I went up and, as
usual, my mother asked...

what we did that day,
and I answered:

"Today we fucked."

I read recently...

that the reason our generation
has so many more problems sexually...

or is so buttoned up is because...

in recent years it has turned into
a performance act...

almost like we're being attacked
from all sides.

And so, this entirely normal thing...

which sexuality is,
has become lost.

And that's why our generation...

is allegedly - I don't know if you can
generalize like that -

I don't want to say traumatized, but...

Can you be more precise?
I can't picture it.

"Attacked from all sides."
How does that change you...

sexually speaking
in terms of what you actually do.

Let's say for example...

you consume a lot of pornography,

which many start doing
at a very young age,

at my age or even younger.

And then you also have all these
dating apps popping up,

where it's like
a competition about...

how many partners you have and so on.

All these influences
come at you from all sides,

even the content of the porn
you watch...

gives you a certain picture
of what sexuality should be.

We talk about some of this
openly amongst friends.

It's like it becomes...

a script of how you're supposed
to perform in bed,

how you're supposed to start,

what foreplay should be like,
how long you have to last in bed,

what to do to...

satisfy your partner.

And all these things
are buzzing around in your head.

And I see all this
in my own environment,

that people feel like
they have a checklist...

that they're trying to work through.

And I think these influences are...

They turn sexuality,
which is really something totally natural,

where you shouldn't have to think,

something innate...
They turn it into a kind of performance.

Do you expect girls to know
about these checklists?

That's the thing.

As a guy our age...

I think that we think girls have these
checklists, too, and that they think:

"Okay, he did that, check.
He didn't do that, cross."

That's putting it crudely,
of course, not always, but...

I think many do think like that.
And that's also why you try,

you want to be seen as a good lover,
a stallion.

But, of course,
most girls don't feel that way at all...

when you talk to them about it.

"So, little girl, it gave you pleasure,

and you enjoyed it, correct?

But you said yourself
that it gave you pleasure.

All right, all right.
So you didn't like doing it,

and it was only
'involuntarily' pleasant, correct?"

"No, he didn't do anything to me...

Yes.

Here...

Here...

Well, because the
catechism teacher wanted to.

Because I didn't dare.

Yes, out of fear.

No!

No!

Sometimes it hurt me, but not always.

No, I didn't like doing it.

I can't help it
if it goes back and forth...

Yes."

Let's try it again
with a little less performing this time.

I looked it up to see what it's about.

It's about Mutzenbacher,
about her text.

So then I started to read it,

and it's a tad too vulgar for me.

I did find parts...

that I can accept.

Part of my concern is what if my
grandchildren were to see this...

and think:

"Whoa, Grandpa says cunt,"
or something like that.

That's a situation I want to avoid.
So I'm telling you this now,

before you invest your time,

and in the end
I say that I don't want to do it.

You find it too vulgar.

I don't know
which parts you found objectionable.

There's...

a scene...

where she talks to a boy
from the neighborhood.

She asks him if he has ever slept with a
woman, or if he has ever done "it" before.

And they agree to go down
to the basement, I think.

I didn't read it very carefully
I just skimmed over it.

And then I think he touches her...

Yes, he touches her genitals
through her clothing.

And this excites her and she
immediately comes. That kind of thing.

A boy named Alois.

Possibly.

He was a handsome fellow
with beautiful blond hair.

One afternoon I ran into Alois by chance
alone by the entrance to the basement,

where I was sneaking around feeling horny.

Alois stopped and looked at me.

When he didn't speak, I smiled.
"Have you ever been to the basement?"

Is this it?

I think so, it probably goes on
for another page.

I read it online.

Then he caressed my breasts...

and finally, his hand
strayed lower and lower,

until it rested on my cunt
outside my clothes.

He remained serious and quiet.

Yes?

- With one hand he...
- It's...

...grabbed my buttocks
and pushed himself against me.

So that only my back
was leaning against the wall.

And the next moment,
I groaned heavily,

trying to suppress a cry of lust.

I think that's as far as I got, yes.

The way you read it...

it's okay, I'd say.

How do you read it?

I don't know.
I haven't read it yet.

I just read it to myself
and thought:

Whoa - vulgar.

- Are you saying we should try it?
- Yes, of course.

And the other passage,
where he seduces the mother...

That's the one you'd like?

We have the Eckart and Horak monologues.

Shortened versions of both.

Yes, I have the Father part here, too.

Then let's do Eckart?

- Am I too much trouble?
- Or the mother?

What did you say?

I'm sorry I'm causing so much trouble.

Here, the mother...

The mother is better.

Is the mother better?
Okay, good.

Yes.

So this is the part you mean,

but it's only the mother's part.

One can imagine the rest.

- Yes.
- Here.

I'll just start and give it a try.

Exactly.

Whenever?

My husband,
a second round with him...

I'd be grateful,
if he managed even one round.

Other men won't be much better.

Leave me alone. I'm a respectable woman!
Do you understand?

Although...

you can't tell
that I've already borne three children.

You can't tell anywhere,
I'm still just like I was as a girl.

Nothing's changed...

My breasts are just as firm as ever.

You don't have to believe it,
if you don't want to.

There, you see,
now you believe me.

Because I'm a respectable woman.

C'mon now, stop it. Stop it!

Stop it!

Someone might come.

No, no... I don't want to,
I don't want to.

I am a respectable woman.

Go away...
Or I'll scream...

If somebody comes home now...

I beg you, don't...

I beg you... Don't...

You can't even find the right spot!

Wait... Don't... Don't...

Jesus, you're hurting me...

Such a big cock... And so thick...

Ah...

Sweet... Sweet...

This is so different than usual...

Hard, simply hard.

I can feel it all the way up to my teats.

Fuck me...

Fuck me good...

I'm about to come.

Ah, that's good...

This is new to me,

being fucked as long as I want.

My husband
would have finished ages ago.

That's good,

shove it in hard... Hard.

And ream me. Ah...
That's wonderful.

My husband has never lasted this long.

God... I'm coming...
I'm coming.

For God's sake,
don't pull out now.

Not yet.

Please, please, please, please...

Bang me! Oh God,
if only I'd known how good this feels,

how good your cock is
and how it can ream.

Now... Now... Now!

I just came.

Oh God... Ah...!

I'm really coming again... Hah!

That's never happened
with my husband.

I'm dying. I'm dying.

I feel your cock
all the way up to my mouth.

I beg you... Take my teats,
play with my breasts...

Please, play with my teats.
Like that... Like that...

And just keep fucking me.

Leave it in my cunt,
your prick... Leave it there.

Ah, I'm coming again,
for the third time.

Forget what I said...
"Respectable woman"

I'm coming...

"Respectable woman..."

Fuck me... Fuck me!

I don't care if anyone comes by!

Come, come!

Ah... Now...
Now I feel it. Now...

How it squirts
the warm spurt coming inside me.

Oh and how often it twitches.

Oh, this is a cock.
This is a cock...

Hehe, the teats, touch them.
Like that... I'm coming too...

I'll definitely have a child like this,

you're coming so much.

It doesn't matter!
And he's still pounding me.

When my husband comes,

he stops moving.
And you keep fucking...

Like that... Like that...

My husband squirts twice
and it's over.

That's it.

Was I good?

Very good, and you enjoyed it...

I came after all...

Now what?

Thank you.

When you consider
that there are 365 days in a year,

and if you count
at least three men per day,

that comes to eleven hundred men per year.

Over a period of three decades
that's 33,000 men.

That is an army!

And no one would expect
nor want me...

to give an individual account
of every one of the 33,000 cocks...

that have shagged me over the years.

Nor is it necessary
for me to do so,

neither for me,
who has filled these pages...

only so I might watch the main phases
of my life go by,

nor for the sake of those...

who might leaf through this record
after I am dead.

Because in the end,
love is nothing but nonsense.

A woman is like an old reed pipe
with only a few holes...

and on which
you can only play a few notes.

All men do the same.

They lie on top,
we lie on the bottom.

They pound us
and we get pounded.

That is the whole difference.