The breasts were by no means large compared with Maryska’s, but knowing my hosts and particularly Milan with his fixation, there was ample flesh hanging there to be tortured and beaten to their satisfaction. With the traction of the arms, the nipples pointed upwards as if begging for the grip and twist of iron tongs and piercing instruments, while in the drenched armpits a pleasant crop of fair hair stood out invitingly.
But it was the nature of her nipples that was special, particularly in such a young female: the stiff teats had risen upon enormously swollen purple areolae, providing a second contour to the volume of the breasts. I hardly dared to think of Milan again; these nipples were made for him and his lust. How long would it be before he would be left alone for an hour with his canes and instruments before this spread beauty?
The girl had sweated profusely in the fury of her combat with her jailors, which only accentuated the symmetry and gleam of the curving flesh and muscles. To the rear, the small buttocks were clenched tight below the twin dimples on either side of the spine.
While the obscenities began to fade under the force of the spreading, the girl was still able to spit at Bojena. With that, the woman gripped the girl’s upturned freckled nose, causing the neck tendons to tighten and the veins to distend, until, gasping for air, she opened her mouth wide. Bojena crammed into the gullet a ball of material torn from the girl’s smock and the voice was stilled.
Then she was ready. Ready for the inevitable scourge.
Bohumil brought down his six-thonged whip over the slender thighs and cunt with full-blooded force. I do not think Maryska ever received a stroke as brutal as this. The girl heaved herself up by the wrist-chains and fell back. It took some ten well-placed lashes to turn the flesh from the thorax to the thighs to bright crimson. Then Jakub began to flog the buttocks with equal ferocity, The thud and slap of the thongs echoed through the vault while Bojena, nodding her head at each stroke, urged the men to flog harder. This they did, from breasts to the knees, from the shoulder-blades to the fat of the rear thighs, the rump receiving most of the punishment and, on Bohumil’s side, the belly and breasts.
Then, in turn, the flagellators whipped upwards between the thighs, lash after lash, until the whips, wet with the girl’s sweat and fluids, had made the cunt swell visibly. The nude must have received some thirty or forty lashes before her head dropped and she surrendered to her masters, scourged finally into submission.
It was much later, while talking to Milan - who naturally had the girl to himself nightly for breast whipping and a little breast torture - that I learned this was the first time the girl had been stripped naked and flagellated. And certainly not the last! Milan also confided to me that Eliska had agreed to his using the breast-gallows - where I had seen Maryska’s breasts throttled and cropped with Milan’s riding whip some nights before. Apparently he was given permission to whip the girl’s breasts, amuse himself with a pair of iron tongs on her nipples, and even lead her round the cellars and into the chapel for penance tied by the roots of the breasts and laid naked over the altar steps. Eliska, he claimed, enjoyed watching his performances to such a degree that this particular slave was allowed into the bedchamber to be displayed, scourged and used mercilessly between the bedposts. Milan also admitted that she was by far the best flesh he had had the advantage of whipping for weeks and that also she now fucked well.
It is, of course, very rare that a kitchen scullion gains such a privilege. It seems that she became docile after three nights of the whip and is now kept naked with a riding crop tied round her neck temporarily in a special cell near the dungeon for immediate use. The bailiffs, however, are not permitted to use her in any way; and so far she has not encountered Sebastian.
So much for a young girl who becomes involved in fight near the dung heap!
This is merely to explain the second cause of the failure to liberate Maryska. For, by sheer chance, the need to whip the young scullion slave brought the bailiffs from their supper to the very scene of the abortive escape. It was Bojena’s quick eye, while the girl was receiving the whip, that caught sight of Maryska’s trembling body standing alone on the far threshold of the vault, for Radka had rapidly disappeared as the struggling group rushed the scullion down. Thus it was Bojena who realized the situation and raised the alarm. It was then that the whipping ceased and the bailiffs turned, amazed, to see Maryska before them, unchained.
They closed in on the numbed, paralysed nude standing where Radka had left her; staring apathetically at the scene before her and beyond, the far light of the braziers in the courtyard beckoning her to freedom, only a stone’s throw away but too late.
From where I now stood on the lower steps of the vault, I was no longer looking at the gagged girl under the whip but at Maryska. She was pathetically beautiful in her panic and confusion, lost without her chains and cell; I could see her uncovered face plainly with its dark circles under the eyes bearing witness to the fatigue and endless sufferings, tortures, sexual ordeals and orgasms.
Within minutes the whole castle was in an uproar, roosting hens scattering, sows woken from their fat sleep and screaming shrilly among their piglets and peelings, and figures crowding the courtyard, outlined against the flaming braziers. A sudden ominous rattle of great chains rang out as the drawbridge slammed shut. It was all very appropriate as a way in which to greet the failure to free a whore from the clutches of the Margravine of Zatoransky. It was like the thud of doom.
The bailiffs flung Maryska to the steps leading to the upper regions. The scourges, still hot from flogging the young redhead, slashed over her flesh as she was bound. Jakub hooked a chain seized from a nearby column to Maryska’s left nipple-ring which he tugged on mercilessly. Bohumil rapidly chained the ankles while the clitoris-ring was swiftly clipped to a further length of chain. With whips lashing her loins, she was hauled back to her cell and the iron gate crashed to as she was again locked in her natural habitat.
The chattering crowds of servants were dispersed by Bojena’s shout, and as I emerged from the dreadful vault I saw flashes of lightning in the night sky, as if, like the drawbridge, they also saluted the recapture of a miserable female who had failed to free herself from Hell.
Beyond I could see Jakub dutifully mounting the main steps of the castle to report to his Mistress, Radka’s Great Whore of Babylon. But Radka was nowhere to be seen, well concealed from the place of crisis, from the lightning and, more importantly perhaps, from the impending fury of Eliska’s eyes. No seraphs, Nephew, were flying tonight in the tense air above Zatoransky Castle. At least I could see none.
I feel so weary, so weary,
Huldrych, with affection
Letter The Twenty-Third
Later in this inauspicious day, we were summoned to the dungeon once again.
The appearance of Eliska was quite startling. Milan, standing next to me, leaned over. “When she is dressed like this,” he whispered, “it means deep trouble for her victim.”
There was excitement hidden in his words.
Indeed she was magnificent. The tight bodice of dark carmine velvet clinging to her body enhanced the prominence of her bare breasts with their rigid nipples painted purple to the very edge of the broad areolae. The flared skirts, gashed with crimson pleats, parted as she strode in, disclosing the high riding-boots topped by the bands of thigh flesh like porcelain leading up to the rich triangle of dark pubic hair. In her grasp swung an evil looking three-thonged whip, its handle glinting with precious stones set into the worn leather haft, each jewel flashing in rhythm with the rings on the gloved fingers and the sparkle of her jangling spurs.
Her lips were thinner, more compressed than customary; the pale features seemed lit only by a fire of fury smouldering in the narrowed eyes. This fire appeared to redouble when she halted to watch her wretched, trembling victim being manhandled down the dungeon steps.
The air was charg
ed with anticipation and menace. All talking suddenly ceased as we took our usual station behind and around Eliska, our cowls adding to the sinister sight that now met Maryska’s unbound eyes. As if in a state of shock, the superbly naked girl stared at the spectacle. Down the length of the dungeon she could now take in those grim, dark appliances that her body knew well but which she had never seen - the huge crucifix, the impaling stake, the breast-gallows, the slabs, the dangling iron chains, all cast their flickering shadows on the walls in the light of the tallow candles.
Even more terrible was the figure of the woman who had total dominion over her, surrounded by the group of her insatiable lovers who attended merely to be excited by the sight of a naked body writhing beneath the scourge. Then there was this stranger, myself, whom she had seen at the moment of her arrest in the brothel and who had declined to intervene on her behalf; and who never seemed to take part in the erotic proceedings.
Behind her, twisting her arms, were the bailiffs, those ruffians who used her body unceasingly night and day. All that was missing from this hellish array was the silent flogger whose whip hand she had learnt to fear but whose penis provided her with endless pleasures.
This absence was abruptly remedied.
Summoned by Eliska through Radka - of all people! - Sebastian entered as the bailiffs thrust Maryska down the steps. Eliska drew the whipmaster to her side and seized his already erect, pulsating shaft to caress it from the purple head to the hair of the flat belly. Maryska watched the long strings of liquid extend from the eye of the penis; no doubt she experienced again the uncontrollable desire to feel it thrusting up into her...
I too looked at the immense organ and its veins standing out thick as cords. It was encircled and laced from the rim of the glans to behind the testicles with a lattice of thin leather thongs, heavily knotted down its length and around the girth. This, Milan explained to me in hushed tones, was worn for very special sexual duties in the cellar below, being particularly employed in dealing with lesbians sent for full cleansing. Although the thongs and knots were designed to increase the friction and penetration of the vagina, it also served, Milan added, to provide unexpected sensations of pleasure as the cunt became accustomed to it. (My hosts, Nephew, no longer use circumlocutions when speaking of sex and take no heed of my embarrassment.) This mixture of pain and pleasure, I recall, was also Premsyl’s theory, and I think I mentioned it to you.
I understand that the thongs are worn when dealing, as I say, with condemned lesbians in order to introduce them rapidly to the proper and regular use of the vagina by males, once its soft furrows have been ploughed up by Sebastian and the lesbian well whipped to drive home the lesson.
To return to the scene, it was not difficult to see that the man had been called to the dungeon from the cellar below while well advanced in some disciplinary and sexual duties of this sort, to judge by the erection and the caked residues upon its length. Milan told me that, in fact, a young convent lesbian was in the process of being broken in, after which she would be subjected to a series of ceremonial cleansing sessions of flagellation similar to those to which Maryska had been sentenced. I found myself wondering whether this might not be the tender, nubile nun Zdenka with the shaven head whom Eliska had enjoyed with such ecstasy the other night.
We now had time to admire Maryska, unblindfolded for once; she was poignantly beautiful in her submissive posture which might well be construed as an admission of guilt by her tormentors. There was an aura of fear and fatigue about her; the eyes, after their long concealment, were drained of colour and life, underscored with deep dark circles, bearing witness to the shock of the abortive liberation that had been forced on her and to the prolonged flagellations, the incessant chaining and use made of her body to slake the sexual thirst of her overseers. Unexpectedly, her flesh now seemed pristine and almost unmarked.
A sheen of sweat, mixed with the residues of oil, shone over the thorax, seeping from the armpits and no doubt her sex was drenched as it always is when awaiting the scourge. She looked more erotic, more supple and more humiliated than ever before. Moreover, there floated from her, beside the aroma of flesh and sweat, the ever-present smell of sex tinged with the odour of sperm.
All eyes were now fixed on the two women - the omnipotent Gräfin about to avenge herself and the unmurmuring victim about to abandon herself.
I have, I think, recounted to you my tale of the terrible, ferocious wild cats that haunt the forests of Thuringia. They stand immobile when you encounter them between the trees, glaring, ready to tear out your eyes and rip you to shreds. All that lacked, in the comparison, was that the starched wings of Eliska’s coif had none of those stiff flaring tufts of hair you see on the ears of the wild cats. Our lady of Zatoransky was about to lacerate her prey.
Eliska made a gesture with her whip hand, still flicking Sebastian’s foreskin to and fro with the other, and several events took place. First, a number of naked or partially naked serving girls, who are nothing more than slaves, entered the dungeon by the side door. They were not, I noticed, the same as those who had serviced at the third session and the sweet lithe Ottla was unfortunately not among them. (I admit I was disappointed, Nephew, since I adored looking at her, especially while she was engaged in sex.) These were certainly not intended to be ornaments or spectators but destined to service Eliska’s lovers. Each girl took up her place, as if this had been preordained, next to one of the men.
A young redhead with unbelievably white skin (a rarity here) and small hard breasts that had not yet been pierced and ringed sidled up to me. While she fumbled in the folds of my cloak, I made it clear that her determined little hands would be better placed in my own. She seemed dismayed since here she had the chance to demonstrate her sexual prowess and be promoted to serve in the bedchamber, as Ottla had been promoted. But she stood by me, hand in hand, to watch dutifully like a daughter.
Eliska dismissed the bailiffs to the head of the stairs, where they stood, arms crossed, awaiting orders and observing through the evil slits in their hoods - an unusual privilege. I also caught sight of Bojena’s cropped head somewhere among the shadows of the huge dungeon and thought I discerned Brother Ignatius standing well behind Radka, who also awaited the Gräfin’s commands.
The stage was thus set for the session. There was something impromptu about it; unplanned, with little privacy, somewhat unorthodox for Zatoransky; there were no silver bells, no special raiment or pretty masks, no ritual ceremony. Instead, there was merely a naked girl, trembling in chains, bowed before the smouldering eyes of her proprietor. I experienced a sharp stab of melancholic pity for Maryska, naked, docile and once again innocent and in perdition.
A further wave of the purple gloved hand set Sebastian in motion. He worked, as usual, with swift efficiency. My rough sketch attempts, Nephew, to allow you to appreciate how they tried to bend Maryska to their will and to a forced confession.
Maryska was led to a small platform. There she was again plunged into oblivion as a strip of red velvet was tightened round the head and over the eyes. A chain was then encircled round the waist and hooked to a heavy series of iron links reaching to the beam above. This done, Sebastian abruptly thrust the girl backwards, causing her to lose her balance and hang, arched and curved like a longbow in tension. Slender chains were then hooked to the rings on the nipples, the three rings pierced through the sex-flesh and finally the neck ring. All were joined to the central ring above the belly. We watched the sex unfurl into extended triangles of dark-red flesh as it was tugged tight and upwards; the clitoris hood was uprooted and drawn out while the cones of the breasts elongated aloft until they were tautened to their utmost reach.
Sebastian completed the posture by manacling the wrists and ankles together below the slowly gyrating nude body that now formed a circle, the sinews and muscles fighting the curved stress. Meticulously, the man, obviously well accustomed to this type of torture, adj
usted the minor chains to ensure that the most sensitive points were fully strained. Apart from her rapid panting, the opening and clenching of the hands and her teeth biting into the cusp of the lower lip, Maryska hardly reacted to the pain the man had induced into the body which was now readied for what was to follow.
In all I have had the misfortune to witness in this ominous, macabre castle, this bondage was the most strict and the most severe so far employed - except possibly the terrible impalement of three weeks ago. What is more disturbing is that countless females, I am told, are treated like this, merely to cleanse their bodies and souls. May God pardon these monsters, for I find it difficult to absolve them.
The man stood back to take stock of his work, curling his palm over the bulging head of his erection, spreading the sex liquids over the leather thongs down the shaft with evident lust. He seemed satisfied, to judge from the amount of sap that poured from his slit. He was in dire need of relief, as he gazed towards his Mistress.
“Is the whore wet?” she asked. Her man nodded repeatedly in dumb reply.
“Then fuck her! Fuck her with that knotted thing of yours. Get down deep into her prostituting entrails. Let us see her orgasm before you do, man! Get into her!”
Manifestly, the man required to spend urgently, for the erection appeared ready to burst the thongs that bound it. This performance, among so many other liberties the man was permitted to enjoy among the scores of females consigned to him, was a distinctive one, since it was being carried out before his Mistress and her lovers. And Sebastian was arrogant enough to know that he fucked as few men in Zatoransky fucked; if needed, he could use ten girls a night and leave them exhausted, but now I saw that he felt privileged to fuck before his Mistress prior to the session. Eliska understood her man.
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