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Eliska

Page 14

by von Mechtingen


  “Fuck the whore with your leathers on!” she urged, as if incitement was necessary for a male whose sperm was boiling furiously within his sac. “Rape her cunt! Rip it! Fuck!”

  And the man fucked the hanging girl as probably she had never been taken. He spread the tensed thighs before him, spread the chained lips further apart and bent his shaft to lie between the rigid fronds. Then he grasped the buttock flesh, sinking his nails into the skin, and thrust in until his hair was mixed with that of the girl.

  Maryska heaved her whole body upwards, craning her head back as far as the throat strap allowed, and commenced to thrust against the man’s loins as the knotted network round the girth of the prick ground into the wet vagina walls. The copulation, after a long moment of the girl’s groans and grunts from the man, became frantic, Sebastian thumped into the cunt and remained within, as if Maryska had imprisoned him with her muscular grip. The man’s thumb crushed the erect clitoris, circulating round the root and dragging the tip to its full reach. Then he commenced his most massive penetration, withdrawing the straining head to the edge of the stretched fronds, slapping it on to the pointed clitoris before submerging again into the uttermost reaches of the vagina tunnel. The rhythm accelerated with resounding slushing of the combined sex-juices as the sexes collided heavily, flesh on flesh, matted hair on matted hair, Sebastian’s thonged balls slapping against the girl’s wet undergrowth.

  The man’s head was arched backwards as he approached ecstasy, the buttocks clenched with the supreme effort to reach up into the farthest regions of the female’s body. And then, as I watched, the extraordinary happened.

  Eliska came over to the heaving, sweating couple and began to caress the girl’s taut flesh, encouraging her man to fuck deeper.

  “Get that thonged meat into her, man! Plough the whore’s cunt!”

  Sebastian, sweating profusely, redoubled his vicious plunging thrusts into the vagina, by now saturated and glutted with the juices surging from both organs. Eliska now let her hand, its jewelled rings of ruby and sapphire turned inwards, mould the body’s tensed curves. The hand moved lasciviously, caressed, probed, as it did each time before it commenced a flagellation; it examined the various sinews, the flickering muscles in tension, the distended neck, the pectorals, deltoids and biceps stretched by the breasts and the downward tug of the arms, the hard abdomen muscles and the compact gluteal clench of the buttocks.

  Eliska passed her fingers along the taut adductor muscles distended on the inside of the thighs, palpating their rigidity and following them up to the genital gash. Here she kneaded and twisted such flaccid flesh as the powerful elongation of the chains allowed to remain loose. Then, leaning over towards where Sebastian’s penis was thudding into the cunt, she gripped the quivering clitoris.

  “You like it, don’t you, whore? Speak!”

  Maryska’s hoarse, convulsed reply filled the cellar. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck me!” she cried. “I need hot prick up my cunt! Deeper! Faster! My mouth wants it!”

  The girls, hard at work on their Masters, froze in their fellatio, holding the ball-sacks and the erections immobile as they heard the cry. Eliska was equal to the situation. Realizing the state of the girl, she thrust her pelvis and crotch into Maryska’s face.

  “Suck, whore! Lick it! Get that whore’s tongue of yours in. Suck the lips, suck the folds and the hair... Now the clit! Hold it like that - between the teeth!”

  It was Maryska who orgasmed first with a cry of release. Then the man spent in a series of a dozen spasms of scalding sperm. It was too much for Eliska; she grabbed the breast chains, splaying her thighs out further and came over the girl’s face, swearing at the whore’s lust. Her orgasm rippled from spasm to spasm until she was fully spent, then she smoothed down her gown and regained her place on the rostrum.

  “This lecherous harlot needs the severest correction possible. The body is still replete with the foulest of lusts which evidently have not been beaten out of her. I shall interrogate her where she hangs.” Then she turned to Sebastian, whose declining penis was thick with stiffening semen and trailing liquids.

  “Stand aside, man, and wipe the whore’s foul spume off your prick. You have had your compensation. Now get back to the cellar and see to it that the lesbian down there is correctly whipped, front and back.”

  Sebastian, perfectly content with his public performance and the superb orgasm he had waited for so patiently, began to leave to resume his work on the crucified nun. It was again to the nun that Eliska referred when she added:

  “If she is difficult, recalcitrant or wilful, as lesbians so often are, I have no objection to your treating her to an initial session of sex-torture; the nipples and clitoris could well do to have a twist of the tongs. And do not spare the crop over the rump! But mainly you will see to it that the lesbian bitch is fully broken in for use in all orifices and ready to carry out prolonged fellatio with energy and imagination Above all, man, make full use of your thong-strapped prick in her. I want her fully ready in time for the start of her formal flagellation sessions next week.”

  The Margravine paused as if mentally verifying her requirements.

  During the pause, I realised that this was the first time I had heard my hostess issuing direct and detailed orders concerning a victim. She was painstaking and particularly fastidious regarding this young nun whose fate was being sealed.

  “I think it would be wise,’ she advised her whipmaster, “to put her to the whip each evening to toughen the flesh, which is far too tender at present. I wish it to be hardened and yet resilient. It will, as usual, be carefully explained to the slave through Radka how she should conduct herself while undergoing her preliminary stimulation under the quirt, while being chained in bondage, and while receiving the scourge. I want no stupid screaming or struggle. I demand absolute, naked submission. Is this clear?”

  Sebastian bowed low. Radka had now, when she heard her name, appeared out of the gloomy background while Eliska listed her final recommendations.

  “If, during her training,” Eliska went on, “the female proves refractory or uncooperative, especially, since she is a lesbian, regarding fellatio and masturbation of the male, she must be flesh whipped immediately, suspended by the wrists. I leave the number of strokes and the use you make of her body entirely to you two. But on no account, as you know, do I want blood drawn or the flesh uselessly damaged.”

  The actors on the rostrum were enjoying listening to the orders which served to excite them further, while their serving-maids, kneeling before them, were hard at work, their mouths filled, awaiting the approaching discharge down the throat or over the face.

  “I count on you, Radka, to ensure the slut is correctly initiated into the duty of cunnilingus as I require it. Clearly the slut has already had experience, but she requires detailed tuition, particularly on the tonguing and suction of the erect clitoris.”

  At this point a cry issued from one pair on the dais - I believe it was Ladislav and a young copper-haired girl - as the man spent over the expectant face.

  Eliska paid no heed.

  “Further,” she pursued her train of thought, “she will need the usual instruction and disciplining to enable her, while servicing males, to swallow all promptly and with relish. I want no choking and no wanton wasting of semen, and Radka will explain that the slightest repudiation of sperm automatically leads to a chain-and-ratchet session on the leather shaft in the Red Cellar.”

  Again she paused for a moment.

  “One last item, Radka. You will see to it that the mound is kept perfectly shaved and, it goes without my having to stress it, that she will undergo all training and subsequent service stark naked, apart from her permanent bondage straps and, when ordered, cunt-belt, breast harnesses and blindfold. And, as usual, Radka, you will treat her welts every day so that she can be lashed viciously and regularly, according to our wishes. I t
hink that is all. You may go now to your duties.”

  Eliska came across and slapped Maryska’s taut belly.

  “I shall call you here again when I am done with this whore. Meanwhile you can prepare the brazier, restraining chains and branding irons for midnight when she has confessed.”

  After this frightening set of orders, Sebastian left the dungeon to prepare for the branding and, if he found the time, to continue the breaking in of his lesbian to enable her to withstand the tortures to come. Radka, too, faded back into the shadows.

  We watched the Margravine bend over Maryska’s face.

  “Now let us turn to this obdurate whore.”

  The interrogation commenced...

  If I have time, I shall continue tomorrow. Give my greetings to Doctor Baldung, your good tutor. But say nothing of all this.

  Huldrych

  Letter The Twenty-Fourth

  The interrogation was an interminable, dismal affair. I marvelled at the girl’s tough peasant fortitude and her resolve to endure the traction of her chains and the Margravine’s questioning. She proved, for once, unamenable, unmalleable and staunch. The more Eliska treated her as ‘whore trash’, ‘sex fodder’ and similar atrocities to vilify and revile her, the more stubborn she seemed to become.

  Jerking the head backwards by the hair, Eliska hissed into her face menacingly in local dialect from which I could gather the gist of the interrogation.

  “Listen carefully to me, wench. Only rarely do I have a guilty whore strung up naked in this manner. I do not wish to do this but your body will hang in pain until you disclose what is going on. Who are your associates? Who unlocked your chain and cell gate? Am I to believe you have allies within my castle? Impossible! But outside? Yes, outside! Speak!” Not a word came from the girl. Eliska resorted to threats.

  “I’ll have your sex thrashed until it’s raw, and my men drip candle grease on your skin until every portion of your body is stiff with it - and then I’ll have you whipped clean of every particle. I can have your nipples and your labia nailed to the great door of the castle. I can -” she hesitated, choking with vengeful anger - “I can play on your chains like a harp, strumpet, until your whole body sings out for mercy!” Her purple gloved hand strummed across the breast chains, tightening the nipples.

  Maryska hung in silence. Eliska altered her voice to adopt tones of soft cajoling.

  “It is sad to think that you desire to leave me, to escape from my palace, from my jewel-case of a dungeon. One only escapes from a prison and this is no prison. Let us say that you wanted to abscond, not escape, from my loving arms like a wilful child from its mother’s care. I have had to have you scourged to rid your body and soul of its lusts and cure it of filthy illicit copulation. I have been kind, too. I have allowed you to be fucked and to orgasm freely. I have never imposed abstinence and you have profited from it, like the whore you are.”

  She stroked the girl’s tear-stained cheek.

  “Who is it who conspires to take your strong body away from me, from your Mistress and your Margravine?”

  An atrocious silence ensued, broken only by Maryska’s hoarse breathing. After what seemed to be a century, Eliska swung the body round until the muscular splayed thighs faced her. Glutinous lumps of sperm oozed from the distended oval as the Gräfin, losing her feigned equanimity, suddenly jabbed the jewelled haft of her whip into the orifice; the lunge rammed in deep until the glove was grinding the ruby and sapphire rings into the delicate flesh. Maryska leapt bodily in her chains; her mouth gaped wide with a ghastly groan. Her muscles quivered as if moles were at work beneath the skin.

  “Oh, Mistress, sweet, gracious Mistress, spare me!” came the faraway voice. “I want to stay with you forever. I mean no harm.”

  Exasperated, the Gräfin churned the whip within the vagina.

  “Then let us start again, whore. What is behind this scheme of yours?”

  At this point, Milan came up to me, thrusting my little redhead roughly aside. His voice was little more than a murmur.

  “My lord, this business is going to last a long moment and the obstinate whore does not seem ready to confess. Whatever happens, my lord, she will be condemned in due course, particularly if the Margravine feels she has lost face. To spare ourselves more of this, which is hardly voluptuous, I suggest we take a stroll through the cellars. If we are fortunate, there may be something there to interest you. The young lesbian nun, for example.”

  I would have far rather enjoyed a walk through the gardens but, knowing Maryska’s whole sorry story, I was relieved to absent myself from a scene which daunted my soul.

  Quietly, I followed my young hooded host out of the stifling heat and removed my horrible cowl, leaving Eliska with her prisoner.

  After treading carefully by the light of a dim candle down the curved stairway of cool granite, we came to a heavy studded door, precisely adjacent to the aperture through which Radka a week ago had shown me Maryska being impaled in the Red Cellar.

  Amazingly, we found the great door ajar; evidently Sebastian was occupied with his braziers, after his urgent summons to wait upon his Mistress above. For Milan, smiling with a look of connivance, this was a gift of pure chance. He is, Nephew, the sort of individual on whom chance always smiles, contrary to me!

  This was, of course, the grim, so-called Red Cellar to which, for some occult reason, Eliska denies her lovers entry. The darker area surrounded a pool of light thrown by two miserable tallow candles set in sconces on columns. Beneath the chain and pulley that had suspended Maryska, stood the impaling penis bolted to its block. To the left reared a huge rough timber cross, similar to that in the dungeon. Upon it, stretched wide, her wrists and ankles attached with broad leather straps nailed into the wood, hung a naked girl.

  The sex, head and armpits had been shaved, the orthodoxy of Zatoransky castle allowing a lesbian no hair. The female seemed to have fainted, for she hung inert, the head lolling backwards between the arms of the crucifix.

  I have to confess, Nephew, that the nude was certainly one of the most erotic sights I had yet seen. The slender limbs, taut with the elongated sinews like ropes, belied all the rest of the body which was comparatively heavily fleshed; the upper thighs and the crushed buttocks, swelling on either side, were particularly rich, as was the belly. Despite the strain through the muscles joining the biceps to the breasts, the latter seemed disproportionately large with substantial tips rising out of capacious purple areolae, forming strong cones on the partly flattened masses. An astonishing sight.

  It was the sex that attracted my attention. It had been scrupulously shaved, which confirmed to all that the girl was a condemned lesbian. Round the waist, buried deep in the lavish flesh just above the pronounced pelvic bones, ran a thin thong of red leather, strapped tightly, from which descended from each extremity a couple of slim braided strips of red leather.

  Each strip bit cruelly into the twin lips on each side of the dark oval entry, to disappear between the thighs and so up to rejoin the belt above the compressed rump to the rear. In this way, the sex was prized open before us.

  I thought the girl was Zdenka, but I was uncertain. She had been severely flagellated. I found it hard to understand how a girl of this age, even if a guilty nun, could have been consigned by Eliska to be scourged so brutally. But no doubt she had her reasons. It was patent that the girl had been taken to the limit of what her flesh could tolerate. She was, as they put it, being broken in.

  We approached the nude. Milan, the expert, pointed out that, indeed, both the inner and outer labia were wrenched outwards, cleaving the cunt and held in place by a series of small barbs or spikes fixed into the braided thongs and which had buried their minute prongs into the inflamed leaves of sex-flesh. Above it, the girl’s clitoris stood out of the protective hood, offering itself for attention.

  The sight excited Milan.
He laid the ball of his thumb over the pale tip of sensitive flesh, circling, crushing and embellishing it skilfully, at which the naked body suddenly jerked. The pink stub rose into a full, trembling erection as Milan continued to maul it, but only a sigh issued from the nude with a quickening of the breathing as the thorax contracted.

  The stimulation, however, produced an unexpected result. As if it had been safeguarded by the inner clenching muscles of the vagina, a thick grey sludge surged out from the oval to drip and fall to the flagstones, while sex spume seeped down the inner flanks of the thighs, seeming to prove that the girl had also orgasmed.

  “To judge by the quality, sir, I would say that our dear whipmaster has been up there,” was Milan’s sole comment. “Let us trust that the slut spent more than once.”

  “And her crime?” I ventured, noticing, at the same time, that his erection had raised the cloth of his cloak. “To be flogged, taken and made to orgasm in this terrible posture?”

  “But surely you see, sir!” He pointed to the cleanly shaved crotch. “Another dirty, obscene, lesbian nun. Most certainly from St. Barbara’s. And a handsome one at that. She is being broken in for sexual service as a slave. Surely you heard the gracious Margravine’s directions concerning her a moment ago. Hereafter she will be used ten times a night in the three entries. Personally, sir, as long as a girl has fine plump breasts that respond readily to the braided flogging crop, I do not care whether she is a whore, a serf or a lesbian. All I want, my lord - and forgive me for my crudity - is a pair of rich breasts to beat until the female is begging to be fucked, taken between the buttocks or opens up her lips for me. You lash their breasts sufficiently and they are yours, in any way you desire. Anything to spare the breasts rebounding under the crop. This one,” he squeezed the girl’s nipples and dragged them outwards, “will be no exception. If all goes well, my lord, and if Eliska permits it, I shall have endless nights with this slut in the great bedchamber with a riding crop. If I may confide in you, my most enjoyable moment is to have such a female to myself in the whipping chamber - the same as is used and will used be used later tonight for the branding - and to flagellate the breasts until she will give you anything.” He paused a moment as if about to divulge a secret. “But the Margravine’s demands must be satisfied above all. She, as you heard, has ordered that this female, once broken, serve in the bedchamber, and this, of course, is a supreme honour for the girl. The Margravine delights in a fresh new female, particularly a young lesbian who has been broken in to serve both men and women.”

 

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