Eliska

by von Mechtingen

  Now two events took place that surprised me even more. As if in sacred ritual or a Greek pastoral, Eliska delicately divested herself of her clothes, the young Milan helping her to unbutton her gown and bodice, until she stood naked, retaining only her head-dress, ruff, gloves, boots and spurs. She looked extraordinary - her breasts rose in their full majesty from the tapering thorax and below, her belly swept down sleekly to the dark pubic hair over the bulge of her sex. On either side her muscular thighs, hardened from riding, held the buttocks high and tight.

  Luxuriously she ran her hands down her flanks, to the delight of her men, and slid a finger slowly between the pouting lips of her saturated sex.

  My second item of astonishment was the effect the sight had on the onlookers, her lovers and the flagellator. Each uncovered himself and commenced a slow masturbation while Sebastian, holding his Mistress’s clothes, presented her with the scourge - a bunch of thin leather thongs. Eliska ran the whip through her fingers and took her stance. She could hardly wait to commence.

  Her powdered flesh, contrasting vividly with the oiled, sweating body of her ‘whore’, made her look like a fierce goddess in comparison. She seemed to have stepped from a painting of Hell.

  Running the tip of her tongue over her lips, Eliska raised the lash. What followed can only justify my apprehensions as to the real nature of my noble hostess - vicious, cruel, despotic, ruthless but sumptuously erotic. She scourged obviously with intense pleasure and ingenuity: the inner thighs first received their share of lashes, leaving scarlet weals on such white flesh as Sebastian had not already marked.

  Each vicious stroke added to the torments the threshing body before her had to contend with. The cries, so rare at the onset of the first session some days ago, now filled the dungeon as the thongs stung and bit the sex itself - the seat of lust that required, in Eliska’s own words, proper cleansing and purification. In order no doubt to drive home the lesson, the flagellation was delivered almost languidly with regularly spaced pauses yet with a determination that caused the whip to linger each time on the oval entrance, the extremity of the thongs marking the shuddering buttocks beyond. By the end of the sequence, Eliska herself was gleaming with sweat as, breathless, she returned the instrument to her servant and, taking her gown to cover her shoulders like a cloak, made for the stairs, grasping the hand of Ladislav.

  No one made a gesture to me as the group left - no doubt to spend the rest of the night in customary orgy, stimulated in every fibre by the nudity, the writhing body and the flagellations.

  As she swept out of the dungeon, Eliska motioned to Sebastian who immediately wound down the quivering nude body. I waited to see what recompense he would seek.

  The girl lay motionless on the stone floor, her purple blindfold soaked with tears, until Sebastian lifted her to her feet to lead her - or rather almost carry her - to the far end of the dungeon where a stout whipping post stood and which I had not yet noticed. I followed at an unobtrusive distance. To my astonishment I saw the two naked bodies cleave to each other again, kissing lasciviously, with Maryska, as if conniving with her flagellator, sliding her hand voluptuously along the huge glistening erection with its long strings of liquid.

  I could hardly believe what I saw; here was a girl who, a short moment before, was crying under the whip and now had the sexual force to fondle her flagellator!

  The caresses, however, did not last long. Making her kneel, Sebastian bound his victim to the post, pressing her backwards on to a rearing shaft jutting out in the form of a penis that was forced in deep between her buttocks. With a sharp cry Maryska jerked her pelvis as she was penetrated; sinking down, she let it enter her while her ankles and wrists were chained. As if he desired to remind her still of the flesh that had betrayed her, Sebastian then opened the sex-labia with hooked chains that he fastened tightly to two floor-rings. The post was clearly designed for this precise position and purpose.

  I wondered if the taut body with the upstretched arms was not to be again put to the whip. Instead, when fully satisfied with her posture, the man approached her face, and, holding his erection firmly, plunged it into the open lips. There followed what I can only call a frenzy of fellatio, Maryska’s head thumping against the post as the man’s shaft, ridged with protruding purple veins, plundered her throat.

  Soon Sebastian was grasping her hair to enhance his thrusts, making Maryska suck with all the energy remaining in her; dementedly she licked the head and testicles when the man offered her the chance. The fellatio was very different from that I had seen her perform on her soldier when she had been in control; this was imposed, cruel, frantic, without restraint.

  Sebastian was receiving his reward and made the act last.

  He rammed his full length into her mouth, his buttocks clenched like fists, the muscular limbs taut with effort. He came at last and spent his boiling sperm down her throat. Maryska gagged and swallowed the gift, according to castle rules. After enjoying the last suctions of the residues, the man withdrew and wiped his sex over the face, hair and blindfold.

  I left them panting in the dense, pungent atmosphere of leather, chains and burning tallow inextricably mingled with the smell of flowers, flesh, sweat and sperm. As I climbed the stairs I saw one of the cowled bailiffs approach the whipping-post, possibly to take over from Sebastian. What ensued I do not know but I presume the girl was finally returned to her cell, her welts and lash marks to be cared for by Radka. For my part, I found my room again, relieved to be out of the heat of the dungeon. I sat looking pensively at the moon going down over the dark hills beyond the castle gardens.

  I shall be glad when my work is completed and I can set out again on Zenon for my own garden with its sweet peas and pleasant shade, and a quiet normal life near those I love, such as you, my sister and that incomparable brother-in-law of mine. And we shall go for long walks again, maybe along the Rennsteig.

  Spare a prayer for me meanwhile, and tell the parents to buy a mare not a young gelding. Think of the valuable foals to come.

  Your loving uncle, Huldrych

  Letter The Eleventh

  It has rained without ceasing and my visits to the farthest areas of the province have been less than agreeable. Presenting myself at the dwellings of local dignitaries or convents, drenched to the skin, does not seem compatible with my rank, but little can be done about that.

  Hans is, as usual, most helpful, and dries my clothes before a fire he enjoys in the servants’ quarters; he seems in the best of spirits, no doubt on account of his Tereza who, after a busy night in his straw palliasse, also appears happy, relaxed and quite beautiful. I just hope that nothing untoward is in wait for them; I am always suspicious, as you know, of too much contentment!

  I still have not encountered the Bishop but, knowing his reputation, perhaps this is all to the good. On the other hand he is possibly apprehensive of me and of my mission. He owns enormous lands and, although these are not in question at the moment, he must be suspicious of my mandate. It is said he sleeps with two girls at a time.

  On the other hand, have met Brother Ignatius on several occasions. Despite his advanced age, he is intelligent but bitter. Gradually I am learning that he bears a deep-seated grudge against the Margravine. Particularly because of her way of life, her lovers and what goes on in the lower regions of the castle - and in her bedchamber. One secret that I have unearthed, by pure chance through Hans who in turn learnt it from Tereza, is that our Brother Ignatius is himself no saint or rather was no saint, for he must be too old now to fornicate; it appears that Radka, the apothecary and almoner here in the castle, has been his mistress and continues to keep him company. It seems that she is no admirer of the lady of the house either. But all this is gossip and there is nothing more unreliable than such talk. One item, however, is of interest, namely that this Radka has talked to the poor Maryska and seems to pity her.

  I have been wonder
ing if I myself could not exchange a word with Maryska - perhaps to express my sympathy, my disagreement with the severity of the sentence and my disavowal of the sexual enjoyment my hosts derive from her punishment. On the other hand I am not prepared to exculpate her as I am still uncertain of the precise facts. Somehow I do not believe her to be a professional whore or even a wandering strumpet.

  To try to speak with her - if I can understand her dialect - is of course fraught with dangers and would entail a certain risk for me, leave alone a breach of a guest’s protocol. Perhaps old Radka could help. In any event I decided to explore the underworld again.

  And so, when all was tranquil in the castle after supper one night, I took a candle and descended the stairway. After considerable wanderings, I finally found the cell. It is a small space under a low vaulted ceiling and cut off from the main passages by a massive barred iron gate. By the light of the dim lantern within I could see Maryska lying naked on a large slab of stone, her neck chained loosely to the wall behind her. To her right a narrow opening seems to suggest that it is here her food and drink is passed to her from a room beyond, for several utensils were visible. Otherwise the cell is bare.

  Maryska seemed to be in a fitful sleep, her body smeared with some ointment, possibly testimony of Radka’s medicinal attention. She lay with her legs open and the rings in her sex glinted in the lantern light. With an unusual audacity, I tried the gate, only to find it was securely locked and it was useless to attempt to speak to the girl from such a distance. I looked for a long moment at the exquisite body, watching the fine breasts rise and fall; I was both fascinated by her nakedness - I admit it, Nephew - and disgusted at the treatment to which she was being subjected, however guilty she might be.

  I was about to leave when I heard steps approaching along the dark passage behind me. I had no desire to be discovered here, so I doused my candle immediately, withdrawing out of sight into the dark beside the gate.

  The two bailiffs appeared, carrying a hooded lantern, and passed by me within arm’s reach. Strangely enough, I was quite calm since I have developed a sort of comradeship with these strange cowled individuals; but I did hold my breath until they had passed.

  They unlocked the gate and entered, then stripped themselves of their hose and doublets, retaining only their felt slippers and hoods. One of the men then awakened Maryska with a sharp cut of his whip across her belly. The girl arose at once and I could sense her blindfolded terror as she was turned over on the slab. One of the men, possibly Jakub, presented his erection and drew the girl’s head down towards his loins while Bohumil spread her thighs apart as she knelt obediently.

  Almost simultaneously, the two shafts of tumescent flesh penetrated her, Bohumil driving into the vagina up to the hair of his lower belly, Jakub demanding the full reach of the throat. While they belaboured the girl, I was taken aback to see Maryska’s hands fondling the heavy testicles and the root of Jakub’s penis; indeed, she seemed to urge him on further by tugging him towards her by the sack as she sucked on him ravenously. The men used her mercilessly, pounding and driving deep into her with violent thrusts of their loins and ensuring that she delivered up to them the full depth of her sexual cavities.

  Occasionally Bohumil withdrew, only to work his stiff throbbing prick into the furrow between the buttocks and there sink deep again up to the hilt, while Jakub, stripping back his foreskin, made Maryska suck on the compact, crimson head of his penis. Both the men made use of the young girl for a good half-hour until her face, throat and inner thighs were awash with their liquids and her own. Frequently Bohumil, deep in the vagina again, slapped Maryska’s buttocks and back savagely, leaving dark mauve marks on her oiled flesh, crying obscenities, urging the girl to ‘squeeze her whore-cunt tighter round the prick’ unless she wanted the whip across it again.

  I could see Maryska straining to satisfy her masters, her body now streaming with sweat, bright liquids and creamy gluten round where she was being penetrated. I thought they would never finish battering her, until Bohumil withdrew and, with a hoarse cry, spent over the back and rump, smearing the sperm into her with vicious blows of his hand. Soon after, Jakub orgasmed but within her throat, making her suck the last drops out of him.

  Satisfied, they turned the woman on her back and pulled on their garments without a word; as suddenly as they had arrived, they left, slamming the gate to and locking it securely. I could hear their footsteps fading as they returned to their quarters and I was again alone with the naked beauty, stretched out as before, but now caressing her sex gently. I wondered if she was about to give herself some pleasure, but she fell asleep almost immediately while the sperm cooled and jellied beneath her.

  I must have watched her for an interminable time - I could not take my eyes from her curves and sweating muscles. I half hoped that she would awake and sense my presence, but she hardly moved.

  Then in the middle of the night the unexpected happened. Again carrying his lantern, Jakub returned, unlocked the gate and again commanded sex. Again he stripped, dragging the woman to the edge of the slab to splay her thighs wide. Although hardly awake, Maryska seemed to offer herself even more readily than before as Jakub sank his pulsating prick into her sex, drawing her labia aside by the rings to denude the inner walls of the vagina sheath. I did not think that a man could use a female with such lust. Still thrusting, he began to grunt, pulling the loins towards his crotch until his spasm exploded again. The sperm ejaculated as if he had not already spent a short time before; he held the shaft over Maryska and sluiced his stream of viscous lumps of hot semen over the girl’s sex-hair, belly and up to the breasts.

  Then, as if this was a normal pastime or passing fancy, he turned, dressed and left without a glance at the naked body, satisfied at having used the girl again but in a different manner.

  Later in the night - I remained below for quite a time, as you see - I was now not surprised to see Bohumil return. This occasion was distinct from what I had witnessed.

  Bohumil released the chain from Maryska’s neck-strap with a key and made her squat before him as he sat on the slab. This time he did not strip but presented his erection for Maryska’s mouth by unbuttoning his codpiece. I saw now the same incomparable fellatio as Maryska had performed for her soldier. She used both her hands over the man’s genitals and thighs. She worked on him with exquisite technique, rolling the testicles round in her mouth, stripping the prick head bare, thrusting the tip of her tongue into the slit, biting on the stiff gristle until the bailiff was ready. Then she swallowed the shaft as the fresh load of sperm pumped and surged into her gullet.

  Without a word, the man replaced the woman on her chain and slammed the gate. It was then, when all was still, that Maryska stretched herself out over the slab and parted her thighs. First she caressed her breasts, tugging gently on the nipple-rings, letting her hands wander slowly down to the auburn-haired groin where the sperm had now begun to congeal. She eased back the clitoris-ring to uncover the rigid stub of flesh from its hood, smearing it with her own viscous liquids. Then she masturbated before me. She circled her middle finger over the point, compressing it, elongating it until the pale tip became inflamed and fully erect; now and then she buried her hand in the vagina, reaching for her most secret places of excitement until suddenly her hips rose from the slab. Her entire body arched from shoulders to heels, the head straining backwards, the mouth distorted as when crying under the lash. The friction accelerated to set fire to her loins. She teetered for a moment on the brink of paroxysm, groaning as if under torture.

  With a long unearthly cry, she surrendered to a series of prolonged orgasms which seemed to devastate her, crashing over her like waves of the sea covering a precious wreck of treasure that had voyaged from very far away...

  Her body writhed and twisted voluptuously as the climax drowned her entrails with soft relief and her cries dwindled. She let herself slump back to the stone of her sla
b, curling over with both hands sealed over her ringed sex-lips; slowly she slid back into the velvet curtains of deep.

  Denied orgasm by her jailors yet forced to service and gratify them through the night and probably several times a day - the girl avenged herself with a vehemence she kept for herself. It was her victory over her victors.

  I left her in the flickering light of the lantern to walk back to my silent chamber. As I watched the pale dawn breaking over the eastern hills, I felt the light paid homage to her resilience.

  The same sun brings you my love, Nephew.

  Huldrych

  Letter The Twelfth

  I was sitting in a despondent mood before my lancet in the late afternoon (it was too early to call for candles) when Jakub knocked on my chamber door to announce that the third session would commence after supper and that meanwhile the Margravine wished to meet with me in private.

  Stroking the head of her favourite whippet, Eliska was seated at the long table in the so-called council hall, a room as solemn as the rest of the castle but graced with several high casements that do let in some light; they give out over the busy courtyard where the usual evening braziers burn as dusk closes in.

  She greeted me with one of her special smiles, languid and bewitching. I noted with relief that her breasts were soberly veiled below her goffered ruff with a mantle of white muslin. She wore soft deerskin boots, without spurs for once.