There is cunt, and then there are its derivations: cuntstruck, obsessed with sex; cuntish, either stupid, unpleasant or effeminate; the insults cunting and cuntless; cunt-eyed, used of one with squinting eyes; and the unashamedly misogynistic cunt-bitten, a sixteenth-century term meaning syphilitic. Cunt’s many blends stick firmly to the genital. They are, one might say, merely descriptive, but not since the fifteenth century. Thus the penis is variously a cunt-buster, cunt-hook (though cunthooks are also fingers, as are cunt-scratchers), cunt-plugger (hence cunt-plugging, intercourse), cunt-rammer, cunt-stopper or cunt-stretcher. The female pubic hair is a cunt-curtain, cuntfringe, cunt-rug, cunt-wig or cunt–hair (and a cunt’s hair is an infinitesimally tiny distance). A cunt-chaser, cunt-hound, cunt-hunter or cunt-man is a womaniser. A cunt-teaser, the male equivalent of the better-known cockteaser, excites a woman but – albeit implausibly – stops short of intercourse. A cunt-rag is a sanitary towel, while a cunt-swab is a pair of knickers.
As for the rest, it’s the same sad old story. He fancied her younger sister, and tried talking cunt (nudge-nudge, wink-wink) to her but as they say, that’s not cunt it’s peehole (she’s under-age) and it all went cunt-up. Too cunted to see straight he’s caught in a cunt-collar, trapped by the elder’s overwhelming sexuality. Back in his cunt-wagon, a flashy car designed to ensnare the impressionable opposite sex, he can tell she’s turned on by her cunt-stand (the antonym of her partner’s cock-stand – even if both seem irretrievably Victorian) and her stimulated vagina exudes cunt juice, moistening her cunt-lips (the labia), especially after attentions from his cunt-tickler, his moustache. But he proves to be a total cuntprick and indeed a cunthead, neither to be admired, and what’s worse, a cunt-pensioner, a pimp. Not only that but he turns out to be a cunt-starver, in other words denies her maintenance payments as proscribed by Australia’s Deserted Wives & Children’s Act, known in that land of directness as the Cunt Act. ‘Stick it up your cunt’ he sneers, coming the old cunt, and she finds a new life with her girlfriends, a pair of cunt-sucking cunt-munchers, who initiate her into the delights of mutual cunt-lapping. Alone, wearing his cunt-hat (a trilby, and so called either from its distinctive crease or from its being made of ‘felt’; a similar pun underpins the uses of hat to mean vagina, both being ‘frequently felt’), and bedevilled by his foul cunt-breath he has a single recourse: the cunt-book, a piece of porn.
Your book hasn’t quite sunk without trace: there are 11 libraries listing it on The Library Thing:
You had me at Hamlet . . .
My favorite meditation on the topic is a 1991 novel, f/32, by a high school mate of mine: https://books.google.com/books?id=kdodhaiGhPAC&pg=PA11&dq=Eurydice+f/32&hl=en&sa=X&ei=PMfCVJqRHoiaNr_tgfAP&ved=0CB8Q6AEwAA#v=onepage&q=Eurydice%20f%2F32&f=false . IIRC, you will not find a new set of cunt-formations in the book, but Evi definitely has a way with lists, and the book stands up as rollicking tall-tale and feminist paean.
“If you haven’t got a rubber, we can use a baggie to wrap around your cock!” My suggestion surprised my brother.—“Who told you that guys use baggies when they ain’t got cunt-rubs?” –Claire Adrian, Incest, A Way of Life, Family Readers, FAM-133, 1970s