CJMONSTERNATOR Titles
There we go.
Look at me, Paul. You need to get on tip toes.
And look serious and nervous.
A matador is familiar with death and is often anxious, so you need to look nervous and serious.
OK Clara, you should lower your gaze a little.
You must look a bit submissive.
But not too much!
More submissive to the man.
OK then, on three you're going to look at me.
It's all within your eyes.
On three, go on your tiptoes
and look straight at me.
Ready?
One,
two,
three.
That's great.
Don't you think this hurts me too?
Do you think I like to see you sad like this?
I told you it's always like this.
It lasted a week with the others.
Each followed by six months of nothing.
Really?
Yes.
With you it lasted at least three months.
And I only thought about us.
All day and night.
Aren't you exaggerating a bit?
It was never all night.
Didn't we have sex twice in a row?
I don't think we did.
Honestly,
I don't think that ever happened.
But in any case,
I can cheat on you, but you can't cheat on me.
You just can't!
I don't want you to get aroused by anyone other than me.
Have you cheated on me?
No.
You're lucky, as it's not you keeping me faithful.
If I'd already cheated on you, then it was supposed to happen.
What do you mean?
Look me in the eyes.
Have you cheated?
Absolutely not.
Which means I'm an idiot.
And that you don't deserve my faithfulness.
You know why you're drinking?
So you can fall into bed like a log.
You only love me when there's a table between us.
We've always spent every evening together.
Every evening, I eat in front of you
and I never get bored.
Exactly.
You only love me when there's a table between us.
Isn't it odd that I don't even sleep at my house
so I can stay out with some guy who never even touches me?
We spoke about that.
You swore you'd do something!
Just wait. For what?
Just wait! OK?
If it takes three more months, then you'll wait!
That's all there is to life!
What are you doing? Running off?
No.
It's not that bad.
Yes, it is bad.
An invisible illness is hanging over me like a dead weight.
An unspoken burden.
Well take off your T-shirt.
I don't want to sleep with a cotton sack. I hate cotton.
No, you get undressed. And get into bed.
Why don't you want to undress?
You know very well that I can't stand this and that I take it personally.
I'll take off my T-shirt but not my boxers.
They keep my balls warm.
It's not because of you.
At first, I didn't think we'd spend every night together.
It's just ended up like this.
It's my fault too.
I thought that you'd,
have other things to do instead of seeing me.
Sometimes we wouldn't see each other for two weeks or a month.
You'd let me go off.
No.
Not without keeping in touch.
Not whilst we're both in Paris.
You don't trust me.
I'll go.
If you want me to.
You'll never see me again.
Have you seen yourself?
I can't have a conversation with you.
Go to sleep.
Take this off.
I told you it was nothing against you.
I've always slept like this.
Yes, it is against me.
It's because you hate me.
Stop.
I told you not to try that.
You ruin things and make them worse.
You're hard.
Stop it, or we're finished.
But you're hard.
I don't want to, OK?
Oh, be nice. What's stopping you?
If you weren't hard, I could understand.
You decided to stop having sex when I-
Be careful.
I'm going to want to kill myself. I've never felt like this before for a guy.
I never touched them. Ever!
It must've meant a lot to you if you didn't tell me.
But if you can't or don't want to, then I don't understand.
You could touch me.
You don't have to enjoy it, but just make me happy.
Women can come more often than men.
If I made you do that, I'd despise you.
I could no longer love you.
You'd hate me as I'm a woman.
Well you say that you love me...
I disgust you.
You think I'm dreadful.
There's nothing more ugly than me.
Stop.
Go to sleep.
Why can I not love him or hate him?
Why can't I be indifferent?
So that I'd be coherent.
For me, a man who can't love me physically
is a well of sadness,
an abyss of suffering.
They say that a man who fucks a woman
honours her.
One needs to pay attention to language as it's something real.
Paul dishonours me.
Am I bothering you?
Not at all.
Do you end your nights here?
No.
I just got out of bed.
So I've only just got dressed.
I couldn't sleep, so I got up.
I don't give a fuck about the time.
I'm never tired.
I can't stand people who are always tired.
Especially when they moan about it.
What's wrong?
It's obviously as they're not passionate.
Are you alone?
No, I have a husband.
I told him I'm married.
So he knows I'm not free.
As I'm not free.
He'll take the blame for the adultery.
He's at home asleep.
He doesn't mind sleeping.
I should mention that he has to get up early tomorrow.
He's got a 12PM meeting at Deauville for his job.
And do you have a wife?
She died in a car accident.
I haven't had sex in four months.
Maybe you're all just like that then.
My husband's nice, but he's like that.
He's not interested in sex.
I prefer role play.
It's delicious.
I can never stop myself from giving in.
It amazes me every time.
I watch myself letting go as if it wasn't me.
And honestly,
I could die from the love of the miracle of having sex with a stranger.
It's such an infantile desire,
a pure desire.
Suck my cock.
No, not now.
This evening or tomorrow?
Give me your phone number.
Don't you want to?
A blowjob? No not really.
It's not my speciality.
I don't like to start with a blowjob.
I like to start again with a blowjob, if you see what I mean?
But going back to a hotel is something I love to do.
But I'd better set off immediately.
Don't you want to go to a hotel? I do.
But I have to work.
And I need to get the car back.
You see? It's not mine.
Will you call me?
Sorry that I'm late.
It's OK.
I've done the register. Thanks.
Good morning.
OK,
Take out your grammar books and write today's date.
So last week,
we did the present tense of the verb 'to be'.
I am,
you are,
he is,
we are,
you are,
they are.
Today, we're going to learn 'to have'.
'To have' is not the same thing as 'to be'.
One can be without having.
And one can have without being.
What do I make myself have?
To have entirely?
I'd love you to get pregnant.
No chance of that.
Why? There's no real reason.
Well, what do you think it will be, some divine intervention?
Since I stopped the pill, there hasn't been a chance.
You don't like details, but there are certain dates.
If you do nothing at the time, then nothing will happen.
And that's what depresses me.
But it's not the same.
If you tell me that I need to go down the mines, then I will.
Really?
Yes.
Because that would change everything.
Because if we had a child, then we'd have a reason to stay together.
That's because you don't trust me.
But you will.
It's like the myth of Circe.
You want to know what's in front of you
and also what's behind you.
You don't even let the present just come.
You force it.
So as you don't trust me, everything fails.
What if I left?
And if I left then I wouldn't call you for two weeks or a month.
Or even six months.
Do you think our own story is over?
It all depends.
If you left for the North Pole or a desert than maybe.
But if you see a phone and think
'I don't want to ring that bitch.'
Crawling through every bar in Saint Germain would be something I'd call a breakdown.
When I speak to you about freedom, why do you mention bars?
The statistics.
A man needs a bar, in order to put the world in order.
Or he'd break down.
And you know I don't cheat on you.
I'd be happier if you cheated, but still did it with me.
Either way, I can cheat, but you can't.
Have you already?
You do often talk about it.
No.
But you deserve to think that I have.
OK.
Well tomorrow, I'm having dinner with Ashley.
You can come.
But you know what I'd prefer.
That I don't come.
I know I should just let him live.
I always need to be stuck to him like a leech.
As I'm in love.
Crazily in love.
As for myself,
what he calls breathing makes me suffocate.
I never asked to be free.
And I don't want him to be free.
I have an incredibly large demand.
And I think I'm in the right.
But when I apply that to real life,
it makes me feel schizophrenic.
He dances,
as he wants to seduce.
He seduces as he wants to conquer.
And he wants to conquer as he's a man.
What's happened to you?
Why are you making a fuss over me dancing with a girl?
Not a girl.
She's a bitch, a whore.
Yeah, I don't care about that whore.
You shouldn't have cared.
Well I won't have children with anyone else.
Sure I need to put one on?
Yes.
I haven't had sex for six months. I don't have AIDS.
Then you've made some progress.
You seem to enjoy it.
You even seem triumphant.
You want me to watch whist you put on the condom.
The first time you hid.
You think so?
Yes.
I didn't dare look at you because...
I don't like to look at dicks.
When it's been used,
I find it disgusting.
It doesn't look good.
True.
It is quite disgusting.
It's like with tampons when you have sex with a guy.
You have to throw it under the bed, as it's disgusting.
And guys are disgusted by everything.
Then after, you have to get it back.
I personally like it when it's disgusting.
Do you know why most guys can't put on rubbers?
As they're not hard enough.
As they say,
it rubs off.
I don't know,
I don't sleep with guys.
It's true though how they flop down.
Because,
they no longer have real desire.
It's like in porn films where the girls
have these floppy things shoved in their mouths.
That's why they give head.
as they're not desirable.
I think that when a man shags you, he should do it without speaking.
It's not worth it when they drone on with their feeble desires.
Sometimes head is good.
No.
It's worse.
When a man who could fuck you doesn't fuck you.
It's Tantalus's torture.
So, you're obliged to admit
that you're also capable of doing that.
Or a lot worse.
As long as you finish by fucking me.
Most men have a dick,
that's short,
thin and with a pointy end.
Pointy?
Like a dog's dick.
I hate that. It's not just length that counts.
There's also the base.
A thin dick is very shameful.
Shall we do anal?
No.
Not yet.
I still want you to fuck me.
You're yet to satisfy me.
My husband doesn't fuck me.
How can you love a man who doesn't fuck you?
I don't like men who fuck me.
I hate them.
I don't want to see those that fuck me.
Or look at them.
I want to be a hole, or chasm.
The more gaping it is...
the stranger it is.
The more it has to do with me and my intimacy...
the further I'll withdraw.
It's metaphysical.
The amount my mind withdraws depends on the size of the dick that fucks me.
I cut myself out.
And that's my purity.
Don't you like me tickling your back?
No, I don't like tenderness.
Or when someone kisses me on the mouth.
But anyway can ram my cunt.
But I can't kiss someone I don't love.
It's too intimate.
But when I kissed Paolo, I wanted him.
When I kissed him, I stopped thinking of Paul.
So I decided to stop seeing him.
It was a question of integrity.
What are you doing?
Nothing. I've got school.
Do you like my dick?
I like its smell.
You're disgusting.
No, it smells good.
I like the way it's not too big.
It fits in my hand.
It fits in my mouth.
Why do you like it?
It's mine.
I don't know.
It's like a bird.
It's like having a bird in my hand.
You see,
when you move a bit like that?
You look like you want to fly away.
But it won't fly away.
I find it touching.
Does it shock you that we never go all the way?
What shocks me is that you won't let me touch you.
I wish you'd die.
But I let you touch me.
I just don't go all the way.
Don't worry. I never come either.
'The months of winter.'
'Each one had become accustomed
to a tidy little life.
Full stop.
And all of a sudden
Comma.
the light shone
again.
Full stop.
Spring had arrived'
Exclamation mark.
I know I make an error each syllable.
I don't know how I passed the exam.
It's the same with my driver's licence. I can't parallel park.
That's not as bad.
As you're not behind me when I double park.
It's because I'm dyscl-
I'm dyscl-, ah, I'm dyslexic.
In maths, I can do the problems fine but,
I can never learn the multiplication tables.
That's annoying.
It's nice here.
Are you surprised?
It's small. But I've got everything!
Women like to recognize what they've seen on TV.
This season's trend is Japanese screens, so I have some.
If jacuzzis are in fashion then I have some.
It may be small, but everything's here. It's a theatre.
Sometimes it's like a film set.
I do rehearsals.
I'm an extravagant tramp. I'm not handsome.
As for women, I've had over ten thousand.
Why me?
As you have to speak to them.
Nobody bothers to speak to women.
You speak to them and they listen.
They eat out of your hand.
And you put your hand where it's needed,
without any role play.
Because somebody has to get things going.
The only way to love a woman
is from rape.
Women will give themselves very easily to anyone,
but then refuse and hold out on those who love them.
They'll give anything for the day you respect them.
That's how it is.
Thank you.
Anyway, they want respect.
In a way, this is true.
But respect can make things logical.
Logic impies that there are women to take,
who are obviously asking to be taken.
I've slept with ten thousand women and although I don't remember them all,
I've noted down their name, age and the circumstances.
Women's cunts
are never the same.
You can remember them easily,
but take ten men and cut off their dicks into a basket,
neither will recognize his own.
I was on a programme for France Culture.
They came to get proof.
Yeah, really.
They counted.
Dr. Weil, a psychiatrist and sexologist,
is a real ladies' man and has maybe set a record for the number of women he's slept with.
He's the king of seducers.
Why does she says the king of seducers? It's absurd.
I've never seduced anyone.
I know I'm not particularly handsome.
I might actually be quite disgusting,
but the fact is that I've slept with over ten thousand woman,
several each day.
I was a seducer in the sense of se aductere
meaning to seduce oneself.
Se aductere,
to seduce oneself.
We have counted and verified.
He owns a notebook of his conquests.
I have something that you'll find very interesting.
When I bought it,
I knew I'd make you read it one day.
I'd like you to read a sentence.
We shouldn't read books anymore, women should read them to us.
Because then at least one thing is read.
I hate reading.
Read this. Women should read to us.
'Whilst the mother creates the son, the son makes the mother.
What he does helps the process in a creative and entire manner.
This creation of the mother is her purification.
She purifies herself and other people, as uno acto.
It transforms the whore of Babylon into a virgin.'
You're making me nervous. I don't know what I've done.
Is something wrong with you?
No.
I'm fine.
You see?
No, I don't.
You're acting strangely.
No.
This is how I am.
In this immense awkwardness,
I am completely myself.
It's unclear.
I'm in this game.
To no longer use words, but actions.
Otherwise it would be too easy to ask them to lower their hands.
That's what it's all about
in this frivolous relationship,
that is full of shame.
Why do the men who disgust us
understand us better than those we find attractive and love?
Having trouble understanding year three lessons and also teaching them!
Yes...
trouble.
Here we go.
You can't believe that it's my fingers on your pussy.
Yet I'm the one doing it.
I'm not excited yet, but you're already wet,
as you can't belive it's me.
That's how it is.
Beautiful women take pleasure from having sex with ugly men.
It's an unspoken reality.
There needs to be movement.
Not just between man and woman, that's too simple.
A movement between beautiful and ugly.
Beauty feeds off indignity
and also fights with it.
And I'm there to profit from it.
That's how it is. I'm there for nothing.
Shall I tie you up?
Open your eyes.
Shall I gag you?
Put that one lower. It has to go further round,
so that it's OK for a woman to use.
There's a risk that she'll be constrained to a higher level than she's capable of.
Because we never desire what we can't accept.
Physical love
is a trivial, yet divine voice.
#Das Ich/Dorn#
It's strange that obscenity doesn't bother women.
Is it too hard?
Take it all off.
I can't take any more.
I didn't know.
You should've told me it was too hard. It seemed fine.
Well I could string it up more loosely.
Or we could just have sex normally.
It's OK.
It's me.
That's the problem with me.
You know?
Nobody's ever tied me up.
I've never done it.
You've really never done it?
I've always wanted to.
We'll do it again.
I'll be more gentle.
No!
That's worse.
It has to be like that.
Well if it's fine for you too.
Well it was nice for me,
very nice indeed.
I want you to enjoy it, but when you cry I start to panic.
I feel I've done something wrong.
No, it's fine.
At the start,
you feel your hands going numb.
And you feel you can't take any more.
And suddenly, you can't stand it.
It's like you're dying.
An accelerating death.
You feel your hands are going to fall off.
You're gradually turning into a carcas.
At this point,
it has to stop right there.
It can't last a second longer.
I was scared you wouldn't understand due to the gag.
It's freaky.
But wasn't the gag OK?
Anyway, I don't like to say things.
When I came in, Paul wasn't there.
And that was enough to destroy my world.
It wasn't because of what I'd done.
What's done is done.
It's behind me.
I'm thinking completely clearly.
That's all I can do.
In my head,
I feel that my body doesn't belong to me.
It's an anonymous appendix.
And in my head,
there's Paul.
He could have reconciled me with my body.
But that's not what he wanted.
Because,
I didn't like my body.
I am easy prey.
I mean a victim.
Anyway,
women are the expiatory victims of men.
I always mastubate with my legs closed.
It's very rare for me to spread my legs.
I can't even offer myself to myself.
I rape myself.
I only get a boring satisfaction from it.
It's pretty nauseating.
There's no point having a guy in order to reach this point.
And I suffered whilst on that bed.
My suffering seems rather fittingly
like an abandoned mass.
The more time went on, the less I could stand it.
I needed to throw myself outside on the pavement like rubbish.
Rubbish basically belonged to the whole world.
The only thing that I kept stubbornly repeating to myself like some shitty equation
is that if I'd cheated on him,
and loved only him,
and maybe if he cheated on me, it wouldn't matter anymore.
But he didn't cheat on me,
which was a lot worse.
He was delighted to be alone.
Love between man and woman,
we don't say it enough, but it's like a snidy battle.
And there we go,
I win if I come home last.
I know that I can beat him.
100 francs just to lick you out?
This is my dream.
That to a guy, I'm just a pussy that he wants to pound,
without any false emotion,
but just raw desire.
Being fucked by a guy,
whoever he is,
makes you feel like you're in a dome,
that you wallow in, just for the pleasure of wallowing.
Dishonour and scandal
are the joys of a girl.
Turn around, bitch!
Pay me!
You have no choice.
Don't you like me?
Bitch!
I fucked you, you slutty bitch!
I'm not ashamed, you bastard!
Does nymphomania consist of destroying yourself because...
you choose
those who don't love you?
I don't want to sleep with men.
I want to open up my insides
and then it will be seen that the mystery is just a pile of guts
and that the woman is dead.
I would love to meet Jack the Ripper.
He'd rip a woman like me in two.
I was fucked by waiting an hour more,
in order to be the last one home.
If that's the proof that women are capable
of a lot more love than men,
of a lot more love.
And he's also waiting for me.
When I come home second.
My lad's on edge.
I've just got back.
Me too.
I see.
I just got back as well.
You don't seem like the type who'd spend two hours in front of the TV.
I don't give a fuck that he doesn't want to shag me.
My cunt's swollen and wet. I can hold out for this evening.
He won't be able to bring me down like that.
It's simple.
If he wants to spend the night without me, then I'll profit from it.
I'll go into bondage.
It's his fault.
Shall I dominate you?
Do you want to tie me up? Do what you want today.
No.
I don't want to do anything.
Do you like it when I tie you up?
Yes.
But not below the elbow.
Last time, my hand took two weeks to heal.
Even after a month it felt a bit strange.
That's odd. A circulation problem isn't normal at your age.
So one day in Cannes, I met Grace Delly.
I didn't know it was her,
or I wouldn't have been able to speak to her.
She liked me and came back to my place.
So she rings the doorbell and is standing there, with stylish blonde hair,
in a black and white suit.
She looked great.
And so I fuck her from five to seven.
And she leaves happily.
Two days later, I see her when I was with a friend.
And I said to him, 'I fucked that woman.'
And he said, 'you fucked Grace Delly?'
I look at him, I didn't know.
But you see, I'm not particularly handsome,
nor rich, nor seductive.
But, I fucked her.
Anyway, I approach her
and we have a drink and I say, 'why?-
'Why...
'Why didn't you tell me that you were Grace Delly?'
And she asked if I would've acted the same.
Well, no.
You wouldn't do the same thing with Grace Delly.
You'd take gloves.
Oh shame, that was nice.
Wait.
It doesn't matter.
Shame I don't have two.
Oh it doesn't matter.
OK, lift up your arse.
I'm going to pull your dress up.
Just like that.
Do you want me to spread your legs?
I think you'll enjoy it if I spread your legs.
Wait.
I'd like that.
That good like that.
And now I'll put this on.
Help me.
Ah, this looks great.
When you come like this.
It looks magnificent.
I'll gag you now.
I liked it so much, I began to bond with Robert.
Bonding with his bondage,
being his secret work.
After our sessions, we laughed instead of being serious.
We had a good time and had a meal.
She says to him...
Do you want some more caviar?
Excuse me,
caviar.
Another round? Thanks.
And vodka as well.
I love getting hammered.
But I'm never drunk, or what might be called 'drunk'.
And vodka, excuse me sir!
Can we get some vodka as well?
You seem merry!
You see your friends, I see mine.
You girls must talk about us a fair bit!
We spoke about all sorts of things...
Can you help me?
Touch me.
I can't if you keep that on.
OK then.
Love's a bitch.
It's a question of power.
If you love a guy enough for being faithful, he'll stop fucking you.
When you cheat on them, they'll fuck you.
They wouldn't guess that you're cheating.
They just understand when you're getting away.
I've got clenched fists. I can't do anything.
Is everything OK?
What are you trying to do?
I don't understand why you don't understand that it's only you that I do this with.
I've never touched another man's dick.
So why don't you leave me alone?
Because you do nothing.
You
are in my place.
You're the woman.
I'm your guy.
And I fuck you.
Do you believe it?
That's how the selfish bastard got me pregnant,
without even coming,
making me the Virgin Mary,
with a single drop of sperm.
OK, leave your legs open.
Relax yourself.
The cervix is closed and tonic.
And the uterus,
is in its eighth week.
OK, your turn.
And so I'd become an object of study for spotty, young medics,
a piece of meat.
Once you've got pregnant, there's no harm spreading your legs
and having your vagina examined in its furthest depths.
Althought I was quite bitter, I developed a taste for it.
Because Robert and I had agreed to a break whilst I was pregnant,
nobody else would touch me.
I only had sexual relations at my monthly visits.
I've never been able to sit right on a gynecologist's table. I don't spread my legs.
That's why it excites me.
because I'm a lot more frigid than others.
I understand why Chinese medicine used ivory doubles of its patients.
Even that could be intolerable.
Pornography is about tending to ones libido through deception.
Now the thing that we never allow
will never be allowed in a picture either.
The image compromises us all so much,
when it starts to represent you.
Paul's right.
You can't love this face, with a cunt like this.
This cunt can't belong to this face.
I often imagine a whorehouse,
where the head is separated from the body.
The system is like a guillotine,
before the blade falls.
Of course, there's no blade.
I'm wearing a red satin skirt that rustles with each touch.
It's one of those ridiculous things that turns men on.
Proof that those who are turned on by us don't love us.
Paul's right, being a woman is crippling.
Because if a woman who makes you hard then you want to fuck her.
Wanting to fuck a woman is to despise her.
Love between man and woman is impossible.
I don't know why, but I imagine these unseen men to be fat and ape-like.
Aziz, look at my dick!
The worst man is the most desirable.
OK, that's the head.
That's the spine.
That's the femur.
Do you want to know the sex? Yes.
It's a boy.
It's amazing.
Do you want me to marry you?
Yes.
That evening,
Paul made love for me for the first time
and also for the last time.
After that, he was happy to have me following him around like a ball and chain,
that you only tolerate from a sense of duty.
We started going out every night,
with his sister and brother-in-law.
Now that I was the mother of his son,
he'd introduced me to his family.
You OK?
Two whiskies.
How are you? Fine.
Are you having anything?
Soon.
#Shadeaux Men/Spanish Storme#
I hope you won't cause a scene.
I'm not making a scene.
I wanted to dance, so I grabbed a random girl.
I nearly snogged her and she looked at me like a Christmas tree.
Then I left her where I'd taken her from.
She didn't know what was going on.
You have nothing to say?
I'm saying nothing.
You're still thinking about it.
A whisky, please.
Are you no longer in love? Sorry?
You're holding her like a chav would!
Here, sit down.
You tired?
I'm OK.
She's my sister, but I'm going to tell him.
I'm going to tell him that a guy likes a challenge.
A guy doesn't like to be followed around.
He needs to believe that he's going to lose her.
Then he chases after her.
Or he'll chase someone else.
As a guy's always on the hunt.
What do you think?
I'm not interested in these hunting stories.
The bastard.
He leaves me alone with these dreadful worries.
Soon my vagina will dilate and I'll push this baby out of my body.
Wake up.
Wake up!
I'm sick of you being like this!
You lazy piece of shit!
I'm coming down.
What's going on?
You'll like it.
We'll sit you down.
Wait, she's having a contraction.
Breathe!
When the contraction's stopped, we'll lie her down.
The father has to leave.
No, he's staying!
Can we do an epidural?
There's no time, the baby's coming.
OK, we're ready, you're going to push the baby.
Breathe in!
Breathe in some more!
Hold on to her sides!
Now push, come on, again!
Keep going, as hard as you can!
Breathe in, keep pushing!
Giving birth is incredible.
Come on, breathe.
Breathe again. The head's coming!
They say that a woman is not a woman until she is a mother.
I think this is true.
Nothing that has happened before matters anymore.
#Funkadelic/Free your mind and your ass will follow#
CJMONSTERNATOR Titles
I named my son after his father.
If someone's counting the souls up there,
then we'll call it even.