The Training of Camille - Session 2

While Camille thought herself to be in the hands of a mad man, I thought of myself as one really lucky bastard. At the time in my life when I decided that I was not going to get involved with a woman without first making sure that she understood where I stood in things related to sex, I had the most extraordinary change in my life. Not only all the women I met since took part in my games and obsessions, (perhaps with one exception or two that doesn't count), But with some it became more than just games. It became a way of life.

Camille was at the end of the rod, and could not, at that moment, phantom what was going on in my mind. My eyes were fixed on her figure and her expressions, while my mind was fixed on her person, her complete person, her entire body and soul and mind.

In the film she had to express fear and pain. That she knew, but now I had to tell her that she inspired me a change in the story and she had to start as if it was simply a game, a game between two lovers, one much older, much, much older, just like me and her. I was going to turn me into a psycho.

Turning myself into a psycho was not a long stretch of the imagination. When I was young and became painfully aware that what in my very early life was a mysterious interest in martyrs and tortured souls, I began to consider the possibility that I was one sick bastard. That I was condenmed to became Jack The Ripper or The Boston Strangler. I was grateful to Buñuel when he made Belle D'Jour. I was still young and very sensitive, maturing, learning the ways of the world, already experienced in the arts of whipping my ladies... but very much afraid of myself.