Speaking of the Bishop, I have now inspected the land tenure records and revenues of almost every monastery and the extensive Episcopal territories and have managed even to visit the Premonstratensian Abbey which was not easy. A truly dismal place but one I could not criticize.
On the other hand, I still have difficulties with the nunneries and the large convent of St. Ursula where I gather debauchery is rife. Here again, in addition to penance, frequent punishments are administered with, this time, a knotted scourge for which the nun is stripped naked. Really, Nephew, flagellation is so common here that one wonders if there is one woman who has not undergone it. Brother Ignatius, who talks to me whenever the Margravine is not nearby (he has scant love for her but knows her secrets), informs me that these nunneries are forced by Eliska to shelter many destitute or loose women to save them from starvation. These wretched women, however, are subject to the strictest possible discipline and - once again - the whip is more frequently worshipped than the cross. The unfortunate man is called upon, here too, to bless the instruments.
What would you do, were you here?
Your loving uncle, Huldrych
Letter The Ninth
It was a mild late Spring afternoon in the shrubbery of the castle gardens. I was reading over the text of my third report to Nuremberg, due to leave by rider on the morrow, when Ladislav came and sat next to me on my bench. Among what he had to say there was something that disturbed me.
It seems that Tereza (the wine spiller, you remember?) had been released after her long suspension in the stalls. She had been returned to work in the sculleries and apparently my own servant Hans was forever hovering around the girl; this was being noticed by the overseers and the bailiffs.
Now, of course, Hans as my servant enjoys a certain immunity, but I was filled with consternation. I did not blame him at all for being attracted to this exquisite creature, but with Hans I can never tell what may happen. I have warned him to observe the decorum befitting my mission but here he was fatally taken with the good looks of a castle slave. No doubt also, he probably needed to sleep with someone as I refused him the right to frequent the brothels in Zatoransky. Ladislav courteously suggested I speak to the Margravine to avoid misunderstandings.
I agreed and did so, choosing my time carefully when she seemed to be in a good humour and about to go out riding and hawking with Premsyl and her servants. With an indulgent smile she forthwith gave her permission for Hans to use the girl. Thus, Nephew, I have a well contented servant again; they sleep together and make love untiringly. The little maid seems delighted with Hans. So I am grateful to Ladislav and to the Margravine for having negotiated round a delicate situation. I shall probably have to pay for it dearly some way or another.
But to return to my moment with Ladislav on the terrace. He gave me a far clearer picture of the peculiar relationship between him, his colleagues and Eliska. After praising her beauty and energy (there he is right and no doubt included her sexual appetite!), he told me that he and the others had been her lovers even before the Margrave’s death. The three companions had served together in the Bohemian armies and were inseparable. They had no qualms over sharing her - as if I had not noticed.
His discourse moved inevitably to the whip. The whip, he declared, is a great healer. “It is essential that serfs be kept on a tight rein and repressed as rigorously as possible. Our authorities do exemplary work through imprisonment, punishment, executions or, like the Margravine herself, recourse to the whip.”
“Especially on females, I believe,” I remarked.
“Quite. For they are the moral canker in the tree of life. The lowborn female is the worm in the rose. Sometimes there have to be executions - here we drown some in the moat, but generally there is no more effective way of dealing with these filthy peasant wenches than to flog them.”
The garden was now heavy with the scent of the lilacs, beginning to bud. For a fleeting moment the castle looked almost civilized, despite the evil within it.
“Lord Ladislav,” I remarked, “the role of the bailiffs and the youth Sebastian is still not very clear to me.”
My host rose and we strolled towards the southern battlement. “All three men, like myself also, have sworn fidelity to the house and hence to the Margravine. Nothing would ever deter them from carrying out orders to the letter. Jakub would prefer death on the gallows or by his own hand than see Eliska affronted or defied. As to Bohumil, he is the bastard son of the late Margrave Matthlas by some chambermaid who” - he waved his hand vaguely - “disappeared suddenly. Now, as to Sebastian who, as you know, was rendered mute to safeguard secrets, his father reigned supreme before him in the dungeons; now it is he who is called upon to work on our females which he does with exquisite delicacy.”
“And the other men in the castle?”
“They are few but they are all faithful - guards, equerries, servants, grooms. The Margravine has elaborated a scheme whereby they are compensated by being permitted to use castle women according to merit.”
Suddenly he broached a subject that left me almost speechless. What he said, Nephew, went like this, word for word.
“The other day with the gracious Margravine, we were wondering if you yourself, my lord, would wish to select a female for your own use, either in bed or in the cellars. There are some attractive creatures among them with liquid fire between their thighs. Your mission is arduous and you must not hesitate to take advantage, my lord.”
I managed a reply with some difficulty. “I thank you and my noble hostess but my Imperial masters would hardly approve, alas.” It was as elegant a rejoinder as I could summon up. And it sounded conclusive. Ladislav shrugged with a smile and then frightened me with his next remark.
“You are not associated, are you, my lord, with the Lutheran conspiracy? We hear that certain circles, even in Nuremberg, favour it and its heretically strict morality!”
I wondered why he had this suspicion. Had I let slip unguarded remarks? Was my rather strict moral attitude responsible for this reaction? I vowed to be prudent in future, and I thought of you, Nephew, and your present hesitations.
“A servant of my rank in the Imperial service, sir, could hardly be a Lutheran!” I replied. And with that the subject was dropped but I was disturbed.
The following day was a very successful one again. Not only did I cover much ground, both physically and administratively, but found that my survey was almost complete for all six outlying districts. The main problems remained with the nunneries and monasteries. On these long rides I was glad to have Hans with me as well as a surly guard who did little but complain and pare his cheese with his dagger.
We ate at a dreadful inn where the beer was sour and the food rancid; moreover, the place served as a brothel and belonged to the Margravine who also owned the miserable girls working there. Several of them looked as if they were frequently beaten, and two wore rings in their nipples which stuck out bare from their breasts.
Conditions in the area are deplorable and I wonder if the official incorporation of this place into the Empire proper will improve matters. I doubt it but please do not quote me!
At one place, near a farmstead, we met a group of ragged men (some armed to my surprise with the new wheel-lock arquebus) evidently back from some campaign. There were robbers, quick-fingered peddlers and whores everywhere. What is to be done?
“Graf von Mechtingen!”
I recognized the voice of the young Milan as he came level with us, riding a fine roan mare flecked with froth from the bit, having been ridden hard.
The man was beautifully dressed and it was hard to recall the cowled figure caressing his mistress in the dungeon, watching a naked girl being whipped.
“Still spying into our domains, I see,” he said - only half in jest, I felt. “Life could be worse, I suppose, under the Hungarians or Zdenek Leo...”
“Or under the Sublime Porte and its janissaries,” I joked in rather bad taste.
As we rode, Milan told me several interesting things. First, that the Turkish janissaries, converted to Mahomet, were celibate throughout their service, which possibly accounted for their ferocity; celibates are uncommon here, Milan smiled. Secondly, that full serfdom in Zatoransky and the region had been enacted only forty years before, in 1487; and thirdly, that he had just been back to his father’s estate held in fealty to the Margravine to inspect the local peasant girls for promising fresh domestic flesh for the castle.
Looking back at Hans, riding dutifully behind with the guard, Milan leaned towards me.
“I hear the little bitch who spilled wine over me at table has been freed and sleeps with this man of yours. The Margravine is far too lenient! The little slut should have had the skin whipped off her rump.” He paused only to add a second later: “By the way, my lord, you know that the second session will be tonight for the condemned whore. You may enjoy it more than the last one.”
This was the first I had heard of another session. Inexorable people with their inexorably planned sessions! I wondered if there was a way of extricating myself.
I suspect these letters of mine take much time to reach you in Tübingen. It is fortunate I have the Imperial seal to protect them; I would not want them to fall into the wrong hands. Work diligently, do not go whoring and be careful of the strong Wurttemberg beer.
Tell your mother I think of her.
With love, Huldrychibn
Letter The Tenth
(The first pages of this letter are missing. The narrative takes up at this point.)
...again I was obliged to draw the detestable cowl over my head before descending the steps into the now strangely perfumed and flower-decked dungeon! Already I could hear the swish and slap of the whip in action, each stroke dragging a hoarse cry from the victim. No one seemed to notice my late arrival as I drew into the shadows behind my hosts.
What I saw before me made me catch my breath.
In the far dimly lit corner of the dungeon, Maryska’s nude body, glistening with thick oils, the rump already reddened from some preliminary whipping, hung impaled by the sex on a stake. She was curved over backwards, the legs parted and chained taut to rings in the floor, the arms wrenched beneath her and bound to the foot of the stake. The strain was alleviated by a chain running from the neck strap to a huge iron ring in the beam above.
Sebastian was evidently taking particular care over this flagellation, using measured strokes with a thin lash which he laid into the nude’s taut belly methodically, marking a lengthy pause between each delivery as if to ensure the full penetration of the effect into the flesh before slashing the girl again. Each cut was met by a hoarse cry from the gaping mouth, proving that Maryska’s stamina and resistance were being taxed to the limit.
In full throbbing erection, the young man whipped his victim with a vicious virtuosity, leaving her time enough in which to jerk upwards, fill the chamber with her cry and slump back to await the following lash. As I watched the thin thong curl round Maryska’s beautiful flanks - which encouraged my hosts to caress Eliska and themselves to the brink of orgasm - I recalled what Premsyl had told me the previous day.
“The first lashes,” he had explained, “are always the worst, unless, as is the custom here, the flesh has been well prepared beforehand with a preliminary whipping to bring the girl to the summit of excitement. In any event, as the flagellation proceeds, the sensitivity is dulled. The accumulation of strokes blunts the pain and, if the female has been correctly prepared, the pain and the sexual pleasure begin to merge. Impalement is one of the positions predisposed to excite the victim sexually - as long as it is applied with measure, restraint and finesse, which we insist on here - and the female can be whipped at leisure until she is even ready to spend. This is the aim of impalement. One often sees a female orgasm when split and stimulated on the pale.”
The flagellation lasted a long time. Sebastian then caressed the body, rubbing in oil to soothe and damp the fire the whip had aroused. Then he carefully lifted the woman up and off the pale, laying her over his shoulder to carry her to the side of the dungeon where he laid her on the flagstones. She sprawled out before him, passing her hands over the scourged midriff and still distended sex-lips.
She looked magnificent in the glow of the candles in front of the large vases of Spring flowers; but this flagellation had been severe and Maryska continued to groan as she curled up on the stone. Transfixed by the spectacle, I had not realized that the silver bell had rung for the end of this first sequence, Eliska holding it in her mauve-gloved left hand and Milan’s penis in the other.
An interval now followed during which a group of girls, this time totally naked but for few ornaments, served refreshments to the company. His wine in hand, Premsyl came up to me - I now recognize each man by the voice. He was particularly affable, enquiring about my day and my work as if there were no naked female lying on the ground, no pale standing there and no flagellator carefully cleaning off his scourges and replacing them on the table covered with other whips and instruments of sex-torture. He spoke as if we ware out riding under a blue heaven. Then suddenly he reverted to the session itself.
“The three sequences of tonight’s ritual are dedicated to the whore’s cunt.” He used the word in dialect, and before I could react he went on. “Just as she used it in the brothel, so do we use it here - after our manner. We cleanse it. You will see the Gräfin herself in action.”
The bell tinkled anew and we assembled to the right of the dungeon, where Sebastian was binding the girl to a rectangular stone block, rather like a sacrifice. The wrists were chained to a floor-ring beyond the blindfolded head while the legs were raised, parted and secured to twin posts, lifting the rump clear of the stone in order to splay the sex. It was indeed the cunt, as Premsyl put it, that was now to receive the whip. In order, to quote him again, to cleanse this altar of lust once and for all...
Maryska was bound helpless, offering her cunt to the scourge; behind her, Sebastian, his erection straining and streaming like a furious animal, was selecting his whip from an array of lashes, crops, canes and knotted ropes. I had no doubt that the precise instrument had already been designated, but the man took pleasure in handling, fondling and testing the various lashes.
At last he advanced on the open thighs with a bunch of short leather thongs, slender but brutal enough to give the girl much to contend with. Sebastian laid the group of leathers like a spray of flowers on the girl’s breasts and slowly drew the lash down the body, across the belly, over the triangle of thick auburn hairs and between the pouting profiles of the yawning labia.
Then he struck.
First it was the white inner thighs. Then into the lips. With a thud on the protruding flanges of flesh and the clump of wet sex-hair, the whip cut into the genitals and was greeted with a strangled cry from the gaping throat. As the leathers buried deeper into the slit, Maryska strained her loins into the air, held the posture for a moment, and then sank back to await the next inevitable stroke, which would be delivered after a long pause to allow the effect to course through her. She tugged uselessly on her wrists as she was lashed, her head swinging madly.
The whipping seemed to me to last an eternity until the labia and lower belly were crimson.
Sebastian then paused, while my hosts enjoyed themselves, shamelessly excited by the spectacle of an undefended, nude crotch under the lash. He returned to the split writhing body, now armed with a riding crop similar to that which I had seen Eliska carrying while out on horseback. It was pliant, slender, slightly rugged and tipped with a leather fang.
With slow measured strokes, he slashed into the sex, dragging the tip away between the swollen labia; as he beat the girl, the sex-rings sprang upwards with each stroke. Maryska cried out grotesquely, not for mercy but for s
omething far more physical.
At last the final lash was delivered and Maryska, drenched in sweat, sagged in her chains. This was greeted by a cry from one of the men - the youthful Milan, I believe - as he spurted his load of sperm, aided by his mistress clenching his erection firmly; the heavy clots spread over her rich brocaded bodice, causing her simply to smile with pleasure at his eagerness.
The whipped girl was released by Sebastian and I thought there would now be a pause - which I feared in the event that I would be engaged in conversation and asked for my opinion. God forbid!
Instead I was forced to watch the naked victim drawn to her feet facing her flagellator, whose straining sex seemed to reach out for the swollen crotch. Deliberately, with almost gentle gestures, Sebastian bound the girl’s arms behind her back with a thong of black leather. She stood unsteadily before him in complete submission while he drew her breasts together and joined the nipple-rings.
The flogger now brought three large candelabra with the candles already alight to the centre of the dungeon, which was suddenly haunted with strange shapes on its walls. He made the nude lie prostrate. The silver bell sounded again and the final sequence of the three whippings began.
I do not with to weary you with detail, Nephew, but I have to describe the event that followed, for you will not, I am sure, believe it.
The man attached overhead chains to each ankle-ring and spread his victim’s legs wide apart as she lay before him. He then began to wind up each chain by means of two worn ratchet-wheels fixed to the far wall until, one leg after the other, the body rose from the flagstones and hung, head down, the limbs stretched out sideways to their utmost extent, revealing the whipped sex which, in turn, was forced open with special chains linked to the labia-rings and shackled tightly round the thighs. The sight was breath-taking, as erotic as it was cruel.
Eliska Page 5