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Starved Beast
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RED HOT Starved Beast
Louez l'Eternel!I was in turmoil. I was confused. What kind of beast was I riding? They say that the Almighty blesses the faithful and the righteous. They say that the humble fly comes to the spider and the beetles to the lizard and dear Jesus, I'd hoped and never doubted, not even once.All this time, and now ... she'd come to me!That's why Christine had seemed so familiar; the reason that from the very beginning I'd imagined her acquaintance!She drew back from me when I dropped her. She fell to the ground - collapsing and coughing and spluttering and clutching her neck.There were rows of pearls and pins fixing her hair, and a broach upon her dress. I saw delicate embroidery and red pearl slippers peeping and teasing me, weeks - perhaps months of painstaking work in each of them.Dear, wonderful God, what wonders you perform!Oh my!She was the daughter of the Marquis de Lyons!The Marquis!The man who'd condemned me to this tomb and who'd decreed I should be eternally imprisoned
RED HOT Starved Beast
"Drink, my love! Drink! Keep drinking! Keep drinking!"The wretches were soon unable to walk, or talk, and the soldiers liked it that they were naked and insensible. The soldiers slapped their breasts and tickled their ludicrous backsides. They pressed sticks between their legs searching for holes; and they laughed because the women were incapable of connecting two meaningful words, too drunk to grasp the sticks penetrating their pussies, too drunk to know what was causing their pain: too drunk.And what had either of them done? Nothing. That's what!The soldiers were blinded by this comedy. It was farce, a good show, public entertainment, for there is nothing more ridiculous than a naked woman attempting to run while drunk and being unable to find her own feet, or hands, or tits; and these were dangerously drunk.The Marquis was the organizer. He was the villain.I stared impassively at these women's breasts and nipples as the men poked them with sticks, and I saw in place of bold re
RED HOT Starved Beast
At this point, several memories merged and played games. They danced and they fought; and gradually they fused and combined.In the first, I saw a nun who had been brought from the prison by the Marquis and who'd been horribly tortured. She was still dressed, although only of a fashion, for her tattered habit clung to her body by instinct rather than design.Her once beautiful skin was bandaged with strokes emanating from three hubs that were her breasts, her stomach and her thighs. She'd also been crying, but not because of the whip, but because she was going to die.There had been no judge, no jury. The Marquis had decided that she was an accomplice to my "crime", whatever that meant, and therefore she was in conspiracy and that's what counted.So the Gens d'Armes made this nun stand with her hands behind her back in the middle of the square and confess it. She was facing us. The remnants of her habit were dislocated upon her shoulders, leaving her neck effectively naked, puffy and
RED HOT Starved Beast
That secret knowledge of my presence tided her over many long evenings and it led frequently to nervous and guilty confessions to the priests and painful absolution.But what did that matter?This was her fix.And now - all this time after - she'd confessed it under terrible torture. She revealed that she'd been seventeen years old and not long at the convent. I'd been sixteen and she'd known me since I'd been only two and only just able to walk. That's why she'd done it.Slowly, piece by piece, they'd dragged it out of her, every morsel of information pulled from her heart at terrible cost, and now, her back was stiff and her knees were bruised but the soldiers insisted that she bend down and they tugged at the remainder of her clothes with the tips of their swords. As they did it, she didn't resist them. She let go of her habit and suddenly her religion was plucked from her and dangling at the end of a sword. Then came her veil and finally her wimple and she was naked, her nipples
RED HOT Starved Beast
But at the end of it all, all that I am left with is that the Marquis is the one responsible and I have his daughter in my cave, and I must decide.What should I do?Certainly I could never match the Marquis for barbarity and neither do I want to. Okay, she asks for it so maybe I might rape and sodomize his daughter, but where is the punishment in that? She deserves more.I hooked my cock from my trousers and began to pump it in frustration, oblivious to the outrage this caused. Christine was unaccustomed to men pleasuring themselves in her presence, and I think she imagined that I was fantasizing about her, but she was wrong. My mind was elsewhere. It was disturbed and confused in that ruddy marketplace where my life fell asunder.Another young woman was being dragged across the dirt. She was no older than Christine is now. Her breasts were young and her nipples were craggy lumps of smoky chocolate and they grabbed me in the groin every time that I saw them. The Marquis had hold of t
RED HOT Starved Beast
My mind was dizzy and confused, and yet the mist and pain were gone. I found myself unexpectedly in the present, or was it the past? With a sense of d'j ... vu, I found that Christine was swaying in front of me, full of nervous expectation."You're the daughter of the Marquis," I asserted blankly as if this would come as a surprise to her, which, of course, it didn't. For me, it was still an upsetting surprise although the more I looked at her, the more that I saw the likeness. I felt stunned, and the rock fell limply from my hand. "You're Christine de Lyons."For certain, I'd awake to discover that I was insane, or that this was a dream or the mischief of the Devil; for how could she be here with me in my cave?I wondered whether she knew that her father was a murderer and a liar, a cowardly scoundrel who'd betrayed the people of France?I remember him on his horse and Isabelle in his wake, as he took her away.There was a noose tugging upon her neck and her hands were bound behind h
RED HOT Starved Beast
"Except the guards from the prison," I mouthed softly. "When they deliver more corpses..."Oh God.She pulled the letter from her pocket again and flattened it - a single, crumpled sheet of paper. "Shall I tell you what happened, monsieur? The truth of what is taking place in our country. Then you'll understand why I had no choice but to hide here."She didn't wait for me to answer her, but instead she started reading as if a virtue or a healing could be gained in the reading. The letter had apparently been written by the maid of some lady and had then been sent to Christine at considerable risk."Regarding the Countess De Lyons and her two daughters," she read shakily. "I have difficulty in relating. They were dressed in the most expensive clothes. The neck was cut square and very low, and the sleeves were cut to the elbow, and they were finished with several ruffles of lace. They wore shirts of brocaded silk looped over a second skirt, with ruffles, festoons and garlands. With every
RED HOT Starved Beast
"Please, monsieur! You have no idea!" Her eyes were obsessive like unfocussed flames. Again, she looked despairingly at the oak door and then up at the blackness above. "Father explained that if I were caught by the soldiers that they'd take my clothes and distribute them amongst themselves, and carry me naked throughout Paris in a metal cage, my body for sale to whoever would buy it and for whatever purpose the purchaser desired. Monsieur. They would do to me as they did to my mother and sisters. The place is swarming with brigands. There are so many, and since I did what I did, everybody's searching for me. Nowhere is safe.""But you can't stay here," I suggested kindly, chasing down memories and finding dead-ends. "It's impossible. There's no food. You are a lady. How will you live?"She blushed, playing with the cuffs on her dress. Her eyes were searching my face, hard, penetrating, until finally she made herself smile, but it was a hard, melancholy watery smile, the smile of sadn
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