Tomorrow is almost here! I cannot believe it.
Huldrych
Letter The Thirtieth
I do not know, Nephew, what disappointments you at your young age have had to contend with, but I have had many. What happened to us that morning, the very day of our long-awaited departure, will remain as one of my most bitter frustrations.
Despite the bewildering happenings I was obliged to watch in the cellars and my fatigue, I rose early and walked out on the rain-soaked terrace, watching the larks in the blue sky and the swifts skimming the castle turrets. My baggage, books and papers had already been collected by Hans. I could see him strapping the bundles to the pack horse while Tereza washed and groomed Zenon.
I was surprised to see Jakub coming towards me across the wet paving. Although, as usual, his features were concealed under his hood, I sensed he was in haste and ill at ease. He greeted me civilly enough before delivering his curt message,
“My Gracious lady requires you to attend on her in the Great Bedchamber, sir. At once.”
If this was her manner of bidding farewell to a guest of my standing, I would take umbrage. I would lodge an official complaint. Was I not an Imperial envoy to a paltry dependent province? Moreover, to be summoned to her bedside (of all places!) where heaven knows what ghastly things had taken place, vexed my pride profoundly.
Yet I was obliged to follow the menial into the inner sanctum. Anyway, it was the last day. Or so I thought, Nephew.
On entering the splendid room, where the light of dawn had not yet been allowed to penetrate, the candles still guttering, I received a shock of the same order as on so many occasions in the past. It even made me forget to bow to the noble presence.
Noble was hardly the term for my hostess under the circumstances, As Jakub drew back the tapestry shielding the entry, two distinct scenes met my astonished eyes. I halted in the centre of the chamber and stood as if rigor mortis had seized me.
Eliska was nude, glistening with perspiration and no doubt other liquids. Her slender body was half-turned amid the chaos of the royal bed, her lips forming a perfect 0 round Premsyl’s cock, her cheeks hollowed, the chin running with curd, as she slid up and down the blue-veined erection, gulping the length deep into her gullet. With one hand she held the testicles tight at the root, with the other she controlled the rhythm of the suction. She was oblivious of anything else other than the pleasure she was giving and receiving.
I stood there totally ignored.
Of course, I had seen this before when old Radka had cunningly inveigled me down that night to watch from the passage. But here I was within the confines of the great lady’s room itself, only four paces from her lascivious abandon. Ladislav was busy over her split thighs, twisting her rich clitoris, flicking it with his tongue, his beard dripping with her discharges as she serviced Premsyl.
The trio worked like a well-drilled team. Early morning sex, after repose, as Milan had told me, can be stimulating and bracing...
At a loss as to what to do and thinking of Milan, I looked round for him. Turning my gaze from the thumping and slushings on the bed where fortunately orgasms seemed to be approaching, a second spectacle unfolded. It shook me still further.
In the shadows to the left of the entry, Milan was dealing with two naked slaves. He was flushed like the magenta-coloured velvet riding boots he wore, sweat trickling down his handsome chest, admiring the bodies and caressing his huge prick luxuriously. In the other hand he held his favourite quirt of black leather. Either he had just completed a beating or was pausing to refresh himself.
Before him, chained to the uttermost reach of their limbs, his two victims were curved forward and outward from hooks in the panelling behind. The shackled wrists and ankles strained to the rear, both victims impaled on long shafts bolted at an angle on the wall, the extremities penetrating deep into the anuses. Both bodies had been well scourged. One of the slaves was a very beautiful young woman, to judge by her body, for her head was entirely hooded up in worn leather, leaving only the mouthpiece open to breathe through - and doubtless to carry out the sexual services mouths only exist for here.
Somehow, she reminded me of an earlier night in this same chamber. And indeed I realized the exquisite sufferer was none other than Zdenka, the gentle nun with the shaven pate, caught up in the Zatoransky maelstrom, and whom I had seen at work between Eliska’s thighs.
The tight bowstring of muscle and flesh gleamed in the wavering candlelight, she had been oiled or drenched with water, which Radka had told me is customary here to enhance the effect of flagellation - why, I do not know, but apparently it does so.
The girl now carried numerous rings, including an extra one through the septum of het nose, just visible through the opening before the mouth slot. Piercing and ringing, Nephew, is done so rapidly here, allowing scant time for healing. Zdenka, for it had to be her, had been well prepared for punishment. I guessed the girl had been impaled there for much of the night and she had been well whipped, probably several times
The figure next to her gave me a further jolt, For the first time I was brought face to face with a male slave. I thought males were consigned to the town authorities, but evidently exceptions are made.
A handsome youth he was indeed.
The young man, unhooded, with tonsured crown but otherwise shaved of all body hair, was, I must avow, one of the most perfect male physiques I have ever seen. From the lean curve of the hips the cock stood up in strenuous erection, a thin thread of lubrication extending from the slit. The constriction caused the muscles to ripple and jerk in full tension, for he was more inexorably bound even than the female. The way the shaved groin and genitals bulged from the loins was extraordinary!
The cock in its stark reach upwards matched in dimension any of my hosts’ or the bailiffs’ or even Sebastian’s. It was superb. Eliska obviously selected her male sex slaves meticulously.
Milan suddenly saw me and smiled as he came over, fondling his penis and flaunting his silver-hafted whip.
“Ah, Graf von Mechtingen, there you are, bright and early. I’m afraid we’ve had quite a night of it! Eliska has some bad news for you. But let her finish. It would be best if she were to break it to you herself.” He turned towards the pair of impaled slaves in bondage. “Could you imagine a more sexually handsome couple? Fine breasts on the whore and a splendid piston of raw meat on the fornicator, don’t you agree?”
I felt it best to agree. “Isn’t she the nun?” I asked, for something to say.
“Correct, my lord. A lesbian nun called Zdenka who can’t resist another nun’s cunt. And the young scoundrel with the elegant cock is, or rather was, a monk from our main priory. Apparently a little too interested in sex. Sent up, at Eliska’s command, to be dealt with here rather than in the priory cellars. And - would you believe it? - Caught fucking while in our holding cells with the little nun who is little more than a prostitute. I can’t understand how the damn bailiffs let them get together. Anyway, they have been condemned. It was shame you were not present to attend the first whippings.”
He paused to handle the girl’s magnificent breasts. “They are to be punished in full ceremony in a day or two. Tonight was just a trot before the gallop. Incidentally, my lord, we have decided to incarcerate them together, although she a lesbian, so that they can repeat their act before us. We’ve set up a special cell for them. You should go down sometime to inspect the installation. They are kept bound and gagged on a wide slab of stone, side by side, unable to touch each other, the arms and neck yoked securely to the stone with a hinged iron bar. The spread ankles likewise. An entertaining sight.”
Again he mauled Zdenka’s nipples. “Hm, extremely fine and highly responsive to this.” He lifted his quirt. “She seems to enjoy it more than I expected.”
As if to prove his point, he brought the leather down into the hanging breast fl
esh. The girl heaved and groaned. “Yes, she’s grown very fond of the whip. A born slave and now fucks when told to with added energy when flogged.”
He turned to the youth, seizing the pulsing erection in a firm grasp.
“This licentious Capucin enjoys a good whipping too.” The remark was accompanied by a sharp slash across the distended testicles. “He has become inured to flagellation down there at the monastery. Flogged daily by the Brothers and, what interests me, stark naked and in erection. Ah, we have competition in the monasteries, sir! But here we keep him stiff whenever he’s to be worked upon.”
He gazed at the twin nudes with delight. “Quite a windfall for us, sir! A couple of what are now illicit fornicators, not just a mere priory masturbator and a lesbian nun.
“They certainly are a handsome pair,” I murmured, appalled at the man’s lust.
“Eliska made they fuck together a little while back. Chained to the ceiling,” Milan informed me. “Quite a performance. We flogged them until they came. But they need considerable training, of course, under the scourge.”
I found myself wondering whether Zdenka really enjoyed the young Capucin’s cock ring scraping her delicate inner membranes. Obviously she had no choice, and probably it was more acceptable than the hard circle of bristles Jakub and Sebastian wore round their cocks when fucking lesbians - something I learnt from Radka.
I was impatient to hear the bad news announced by Milan, hoping nothing had gone amiss. My reports had not left on time? Hans had got drunk on local beer with the guards? Maryska? Maryska, who in one of those erotic trances she entered when being whipped, had she changed her mind, deciding to remain with her floggers?
Or perhaps Eliska had heard the rumblings of revolt at last in the woods to the south? Distressed by what was going on before me, I began to become nervous.
Finally, after pantings and obscene, raucous spendings on the massive four-poster, my presence was acknowledged.
Wiping her flushed face clean of a trail of sperm with a cambric kerchief, Eliska lay back on the goose down pillows, replete. She only half apologized, looking me in the eyes.
“My dear lord, how kind of you to disturb yourself. My colleagues are such eager lovers, as you know, and you are accustomed to their desires by now. And then we have had to deal with those two miscreants over there,” she added, her eyes narrowing with erotic satisfaction. “So much to handle, you know. The Bishop’s entrusted both these bodies to my care, you see. They have to be flogged and tortured properly, When I have the time.”
The mention of the Bishop must have reminded her why she had summoned me at such a private hour.
“Yes, the Bishop.” Her expression became grave as she drew up the silken sheets over her slender nakedness. “I’m afraid I have disappointing news for you, my lord. His Grace, you see, is not in a position to endorse the Regensburg papers for your departure. They have to be authorized by Prague. It will take a day or so.”
I thought she was about to say a week or two which would have driven me to leave without diplomatic protection. A dangerous prospect.
“I have to ensure your safety, my noble lord,” she went on. “I would not want your, I mean our, Emperor to be deprived of your august service by seeing you cut down by robbers and scoundrels. There are, I think, certain disturbances brewing, even, alas, in my own lands.”
So she knew, Nephew!
I was in her hands. I cursed my indolence in not ensuring our papers were in order earlier. I showed my annoyance plainly. It was the frustration rather than the delay itself that disconcerted me. And what were a few more days in purgatory?
“Then I must send a despatch by rider to Nuremberg,” I said uselessly, “to notify my superiors.” Of course, I knew no high functionary at Court would worry one jot. Time at Court was infinitely extensible, as long as I finally returned. I supposed too that I myself was expendable, in a sense. But I hoped not.
“As you wish. My own personal messenger, Jiri, can oblige,” Eliska replied. “At your expense, of course.” Her reply was honest enough.
It was then that I noticed Ladislav’s restlessness as he leaned over to whisper in his Mistress’s ear.
“Oh, yes, my sweet lord,” Eliska added. “My dearest Ladislav is by no means happy about my decision to release the common whore - I forget her name - on whose behalf, for reasons that defeat me, you have interceded. He wants her to be put into the brothel and made available for regular whipping and torture, which she appears to enjoy. I’m afraid he feels attracted to the slut.”
Ladislav gave me a look of sheer animosity as if I was responsible for extracting from his lustful clutches a submissive flesh slave whom he still desired. Although there were scores of other good-looking, sexually willing females available for him to use and torture in the dungeons, he seemed attracted to Maryska. He felt thwarted. I didn’t blame him.
I felt more uneasy than ever. Was this Ladislav about to jeopardize my plans? Surely the noble lady would not go back on her word given to a senior servant of His Imperial Majesty? Even if what was at stake was a whore fit only for fucking and flogging...
As I frowned, Eliska put me at ease.
“On no account, Graf von Mechtingen,” she purred, “will I fail to honour my word to you. The whore will be thrown out of my gates the very moment of your departure. That I promise. What happens to her thereafter, I’ll be hanged if I care.”
There lurked in that phrase a certain irony. Why, I could not puzzle out but it had an ominous ring somehow...
“By way of compensation,” my hostess went on, “and while you await your papers, I’m sure you will not object to my giving your” - she emphasized the word - “slag of a prot’g’e to Ladislav to amuse himself in one more session? We’ll make it a splendid occasion, a feast - and throw in those two over there as dessert. Like that, all three of my men will be content. It will help Ladislav, my obstreperous Ladislav, to digest a loss!”
It was a compromise. What could I do but agree? My hands were tied, if I may use a phrase apt to the occasion. Ladislav could be dangerous to my plans. The best policy was to concur, hoping Maryska, already exhausted from her recent floggings, would forgive me. Perhaps she might even enjoy it, as she seemed to enjoy previous sessions...
“Very well,” Eliska concluded. “So be it. The three together, on Monday night.”
I was satisfied with the negotiated agreement. After all, my papers were still to come.
“I naturally insist on your presence, my lord,” Eliska smiled. “You are probably beginning to enjoy our little sessions to ensure my yearnings for justice. Now, if you will excuse us, and as there is no hurry over your temporarily postponed departure, we shall continue dealing with these two worthless creatures. As you see, the fornicator’s erection is demanding further attention and that slag of a nun, that insatiable whore, is in dire need to have her stupid breasts throttled and whipped. As well as lower down between the thighs. Are the instruments ready, Milan dearest?”
I bowed myself out of the presence.
It had been a gamble. I felt relieved and pleased at having saved Maryska from the brothels, if from nothing else. I decided to use the days of waiting in polishing up my final report and in riding out on Zenon among the oak forests, But not too far. Whatever Eliska thought, the tumult of revolt was growing and outlaws paid little heed to rank. Even Imperial rank.
As I descended the broad staircase, I heard a piercing scream from the bedchamber. Male or female? In any event Milan had recommenced his interrupted labours on the naked bodies.
It had been a weird start to an inauspicious day.
Naturally, Nephew, I did not pursue the idle threat to contact Nuremberg. It would have cost me too many of my Venetian ducats and Eliska gave nothing away. Except, incredibly, one naked female prisoner. And there I still had to see the liberation with my own
eyes.
Meanwhile, neither Hans or Tereza grumbled over the delayed departure. They duly unstrapped the baggage and presumably spent most of the time in bed, far preferable to losing money playing cards, And contrary to my fears, the following days proved rather pleasant. No visits to grim nunneries or fallow land. No interruptions from the bailiffs. No invitations - yet - to the cellars and the rancid smell of whipped bodies. Yet Radka and Brother Ignatius worried themselves sick over the delay in freeing Maryska.
“The girl’s lansquenet is fuming, my lord,” the old dame warned me. “Trouble’s coming, sure enough, if she’s not restored to him.
Two days later I was quietly eating my supper of beef and dumplings when Bohumil knocked. He was the harbinger of two pieces of news. I say ‘pieces’ because the first item was a scroll of parchment that had evidently passed through many hands. It announced in florid phrases that I, my two servants, and an armed guard, were permitted to cross the land unheeded and unchallenged to the border octroi. It was valid from the morrow. I was delighted and withdrew some - but certainly not all - of my suspicions of the Bishop.
The second ‘piece’ was less welcome: the loathsome burlap hood I had handed back several days ago was proffered again. I was to be conducted to the Red Cellar by Bohumil after the sixth canonical hour had sounded. A late collation would be served there.
It looked like being a lengthy affair. I stored away my precious parchment, visa and seal under my pillow.
The trudge down the eerie steps among the guttering candles almost broke my spirit. It was only the thought of Maryska’s trim body and her liberation that buoyed me up.
The long chamber was almost inviting. Flowers adorned it and the perfumes were more than pleasant, despite the array of appliances of torture. The drapings were deep scarlet.
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