Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 My Lord Odo's Revenge: by (C) Hamilton Joyce.  MF, FF, MM, nc, snuff.

   The stone spiral stair had been dusty, clearly little used, and there
was the feeling we were now in some forgotten part of the great, rambling
castle.  A rat scuttled away ahead of us.  I had completely lost my
bearings but we were now in a narrow corridor, my black robes becoming
grimy from touching the walls each side.  Sergeant Jenkin gripped my arm
and motioned me to be silent as he quietly removed a wooden panel in the
floor.

   We looked down into a pool of light, a bed, a chair, two figures: we
were looking down into My Lady Justine's bed-chamber, and the two forms
were those of my Lady, seated in the chair, and her maid, Melissa.

   I crossed myself, but could not prevent my unruly penis stiffening at
the sight.

   For both were naked, and the maid was applying rouge from a little pot,
brushing it onto the nipples of her mistress.

   And what breasts!  Even dressed in her silk gowns she was a magnificent
physical specimen, but naked the view was intoxicating.  Her breasts were
not large, but so shapely, rounded and so firm, standing proud as she sat
back in the chair, the nipples and aureoles now painted red like her lips
and nails, nipples long and themselves erect.  She sat cross-legged, and
her legs were long and slender, white as milk like her whole body.  I could
not see her pubes until she stretched her arms and opened her legs and then
I saw her blonde pubic hair had been trimmed into a neat triangle, and she
must have had the lips of her labia depillated as they were as bare and
pink as any young girl's, but plumper and just slightly open so the pearl
of her clitoris peeped out from under the hood of her mound.

   The Lady Justine had been thirteen when His Lordship had married her,
the daughter of the Lord of Fortmain Castle, and she was now a fully-formed
woman of fifteen.

   She got up and lay on the bed, and my eyes were rivetted to the triangle
of golden pubic hair, the swelling of her Mound of Venus, the plumpness of
her labia......

   I knew I should not be looking, and that Lucifer was again tempting a
man of the cloth.  I crossed myself, but still I looked....

   I turned away, but the sergeant's grip on my arm tightened, insistent,
and I wished we could hear clearly, as well as see.  It semed she was
giving instructions to her maid.

   Laying on the bed, she opened her legs wide, and I watched amazed as the
black girl lay beside her, parted those white outer lips to reveal the
shockingly-pink inner lips, and applied her lips to her mistress' nether
mouth in a forbidden embrace.

   I was not tasked with hearing her confessions, perhaps happily given
what I was now witnessing, but was profoundly distressed that such an
innocent-seeming Lady should be so deep in Belial's embrace as to indulge
these lascivious and sinful practises....  and with a maid-servant!

   But my ungoverned penis stiffened still more at the sight of the black
girl's breasts in profile, larger than her mistress but just as firm and
shapely, nipples hard enough to poke your eyes out, I thought.  And her
bottom, as brown as her breasts, hips surprisingly slender and even boyish,
perhaps, but her bottom rounded, jutting and feminine....

   She kissed and licked at her mistress' clitoris and I am sure that
tongue even pentrated the vagina.  Her hands held those plump lips apart
and it was as if her maid wanted to lap up the juices of her mistress'
forbidden passion.  My Lady came with a series of grunts that filled the
bed-chamber and were loud enough to echo around our empty corridor.

   I think I could lip-read my mistress' thanks to her maid, and we could
certainly hear the playful slap she gave that black, perky bottom.

   Both women were giggling, almost I felt as equals.  That was, of course,
unnatural, but just another example of my mistress' apparent wilfull
disregard of all morality.

   I thought this was what the Sergeant had insisted on my seeing and
turned to leave, but that grip tightened again and he mouthed the words
"Stay, Brother Bernard".

   There was a tapping sound at the door of the closet door and the maid
leapt up and hurried over to it.

   It was young Florian Belcul.

   I watched shocked as he pulled off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, and
as he advanced to the couch where My Lady was now sitting upright he
unlaced his Knickerbocker allowing his cod-piece to fall open, and then
removed his white hose to stand naked in front of her.

   I have long suffered from the temptation of female flesh, though only
occasionally from bodily lust for boys and then for the more feminine of
the boy-species.  I have never given way to this temptation, but with one
or two cherubic little male angels I have been sorely tempted.  But never
with a male who had reached manhood.

   But this youth was breath-takingly beautiful, like his Mistress.  My
penis responded to his hard little bottom, the triangle of his back, broad
shouldered and flawless, and provocative above all else was the splendid
hard penis that stood out, pointing at the object of its desire.

   The Sergeant's grip on my arm tightened as she, smiling, pulled him
close and took that penis into her mouth in disobedience to the deepest,
most serious teachings of Mother Church.  Despite the sergeant's insistent
grasp I turned about and myself closed the little shutter.  I was in danger
of sin myself, my penis unruly as ever was so excited by the scene below
that a moment or two more and I might have spilled my seed onto my robes
and onto the ground.  The sin of Onan.....

   We were silent till we reached the bottom of the stair and in the fresh,
cool air of the great court-yard.

   "We must tell My Lord Odo of her treason, and you Sergeant must bear
witness to what I say."



   So it was that the next afternoon His Lordship and myself stood in front
of the spy-hole looking down at the naked forms of Lady Justine and her
maid.  I crossed myself as it became obvious that the black girl was
licking My Lady's pubes in defiance again of all moral law, and that My
Lady was enjoying the attention, reaching down and caressing those dusky
breasts that, I must admit, had disturbed my dreams the night before.  But
when I awoke it was the boy's erect penis and his muscular buttocks, tiny,
hard, white, the triangle of his back and broad shoulders that I most
remembered disturbing the peace of my sleep.  This it was that had made me
ejaculate in my sleep.  It was the boy my animal insticts lusted after.....

   The boy would be here again soon, and I would see that beautiful body
again.  Meantime I would watch the Lady and her maid.

   Clearly this forbidden caress had become established routine between
these two sinners.....

   I was sure my Lord's anger would burst out any moment, but just as the
Sergeant had mine the day before I grasped his arm and whispered "Wait! 
Wait, My Lord that you should know the fullness of her treachery and that
of man who has dishonoured her." And you!  I thought, but did not say.

   Again the light tapping at the door, but this time Melissa had been
dismissed and as Florian entered, she left the two lovers alone.

   I felt My Lord flinch as his naked wife embraced the young man, and his
body tense as we saw her tiny, white hand stroke his arse through the
breeches, and then slide down the waistband: we could see its shape clearly
as it caressed the presumably naked flesh.  But now she was pulling his
loose, silk shirt from that waistband, and up and over his head so she
could kiss and caress his naked chest.  I had not suspected that my sins
included lust after the male of our species, but I was certainly aware of
the sexual power of that slim, athletic body and my penis's interest in the
boy was even stronger than in the slender beauty of his mistress.

   It seemed to me that only my grip on his arm was restraining My Lord,
whose anger over even minor infringements of the rules of his castle could
be terrible to behold.  His face was dark with rage, but his body was a
still as a statue....

   It seemed wise to me to dissociate myself as completely as possible: I
had seen the bearer of bad news punished so often in this place, and had no
wish to have my head removed from my shoulders, or worse.....

   "I wish to avert my eyes, My Lord, if you permit...."

   "No, good old man: watch and later testify in open court to what we
winess."

   I am ashamed to admit that I enjoyed, or rather my lustful animal-penis
enjoyed Lady Justine's undressing her lover, her hands straying over naked
thighs, cupping his balls, yes, and handling his penis as she did so.  And
now they were both naked.  The Devil is a cunning adversary clothing his
evil in such seeming-innocent, youthful beauty!

   How is it that evil does not manifest itself in ugliness, that deformity
of the spirit does not result in deformity of the body?  But as the
peasants say 'the white swan has black meat'.

   And not only My Lady!  Young Florian was if anything even more beautiful
than his mistress, with his flowing blonde locks and muscular body.  I
admit that I studied his broad, smooth and hairless chest, muscular belly,
the fleece of golden pubic hair, and that penis standing so proud: it
seemed to me larger and longer than normal, certainly than mine!.....  and
it was perhaps the temptation of this stretching her sheath that had led to
My Lady's fall.  His buttocks, too, were smooth, but small and
hard-looking.

   As I watched the boy I understood for the first time the unnatural lusts
of some males for young men sadly so frequently heard in the Confessional.
I realised that I too would need to confess to the same perverted
desire.....despite myself my body lusted after that youth, after his smooth
skin and firm buttocks.

   My Lady's hands were mostly on his penis and those buttocks, but his
wandered all over her body: not breasts, belly, thighs were spared, but
ever his fingers returned to her pubes, where he opened her outer labia and
dabbled in the wet and weeping sin-scarlet flesh within.

   They embraced for long minutes before he lifted her easily in his arms
and carried her to her bed, where they lay together, entwined and writhing
like the serpents of Hell.

   On my pilgrimage to Rome I saw disgraceful statues surviving from the
pagan years and still collected and admired by men who should know better.
This is not the place to peddle gossip about the morals and behaviour of
certain Pillars of the Church, but even those marble effigies could not
match the absolute beauty of the two sinners we were watching, not the
lubricity of the acts I was forced to witness by my silent Lord.  His hand
now on my arm gripped ever tighter and I could see the anger rising in his
face, at first ruddy and eyes bulging but now cold and grim.

   She rode him, which though not exactly a sin in itself is not the mode
recommended by Holy Church and showed as much as anything how far into sin
she had fallen, actually to be initiating and committing the act herself
while her partner lay on his back passive, submitting.  The responsibility
for this act was wholly hers.

   We watched as he reached up and grasped her matchless breasts one in
each hand and she, hands on her hips, bounced up and down.  It was clear
she was no novice in this exercise......

   Then her exultant cry rang through the chamber and up into our gloomy
corridor: she had reached her climax.  His face became red and blotched,
his eyes bulged and now his hips moved up and down under her.  It was clear
he had achieved his guilty climax as well.
I knew the scene would haunt my waking and sleeping hours, and despite
my training and deepest beliefs I could not fail to find it exciting.  I am

ashamed to say my penis was rock-hard.

   His Lordship turned to me, face pale and drawn, anger and hatred in his
eyes.  "I have seen enough, Father Absalom".

   "A moment more, My Lord.  The Sergeant has reported other sins and if
you are to try them in court you will need me to confirm his testimony."

   "I intend to try them, find them guilty, and punish.  I believe in our
court, though my father would just have executed them, but we will need
confessions and a full record of a court hearing if we are to avoid war
with Fortmain, and perhaps war will be inevitable in any case.  But you are
right: however painful we must see all...."



   My Lady rang a little bell and her maid returned, still naked.

   What followed was so disgraceful, so abhorrent, so beyond all precepts
of Mother Church that it pains me to record them.

   The ebony slave-girl sat propped against the couch pillows, her legs
open and her labia pulled apart by her delicate little hands.  The lips
were the same dark brown as her belly and breasts, but the inner lips were
scarlet and glistened in the candle-light.  For the first time I noticed
that the girl had no pubic hair at all and this somehow emphasised the
lubicity of her pose, the temptation of those plump and so open labia.  I
wondered whether women of her race had no pubic hair or whether she had
been depillated, but was ashamed of my speculation and dismissed the
thought.

   Perhaps she had removed her body hair to please her mistress, because My
Lady now knelt on all fours and applied her mouth to her maid's nether
mouth.  A Lady with her maid, a seeming-virtuous woman with her slave, a
beautiful blonde of our race with one so strange and foreign.  And yet she
was returning the favour the maid had granted her earlier, licking her
private parts, penetrating with her pointed tongue, reaching and caressing
breasts and belly, doubtless to the forbidden sensual pleasure of both of
them.  She wriggled her lovely bottom like a bitch on heat, and looked over
her shoulder, smiling at her male lover standing at the foot of the bed,
his penis stiff again and his hand rubbing up and down its shaft.

   She spoke but we could not make out the words.

   But the import of them became obvious as he knelt behind her on the bed,
spat on his hand, moistened his already glistening cock, and penetrated her
again.

   Beside me I heard My Lord's sharp intake of breath, his grip on my arm
tighten.

   "Sodomy, by our lady!"

   I had not realised.  But I squinted at the scene and yes, he had pushed
his penis into her anus, adding unnatural sexual union to his sin of
adultery and crime of treason to his Lord.  Even in the confessional, where
men would often confess to mutual masturbation with boys or other men, the
sin of buggery was rare.  In fact I could not recall ever having to
prescribe penance or grant absolution for the sin of Sodom in all my years
as Priest.  This act was grotesque, and incomprehensible: how could he be
so perverse as to prefer that anal orifice to the sweet and beautiful
faculty the lord had provided for man's pleasure in woman?

   And yet the thought crossed my mind that I had an orifice that penis
could fill and the youth had an orifice my penis could fill....  I
dismissed the thought.

   Again it was obvious to my Lord and myself that she was no novice in
this perversion either, as she used her hands to frig her cunt while her
lover ploughed her alien furrow, and she pleasured her maid by kissing and
licking her vulva.  She announced her pleasure first with a series of
grunts and then a cry of joy, soon echoed by the maid, and finally by the
male.

   The shameful thought passed through my mind that although I would never
prefer her anal passage to her vagina, the youth's buttocks were certainly
enticing, so firm and muscular as he forced his penis in and out.  His
cheeks opened and closed with each thrust providing a fleeting glimpse each
time of the golden fuzz and the pink-petalled rose of his anus.  I
understood completely, physically and emotionally now as well as
intellectually as previously, why Mother Church had made fornication a
venial sin, while buggery a mortal sin.  I could have been tempted by that
young, firm, athletic body myself, could well have fallen into sin if the
opportunity to fuck that beutiful, male bottom were ever presented to me.

   Thank God!  It never would be.....



   I accompanied my Lord down the winding stair and out into the wholesome
air of the great yard: the moon had not yet risen and it was dark despite
the occasional torches that made pools of light on the granite cobbles. 
There was a pleasant scent of horses on the air, and it all seemed so pure
compared with the foetid sin of My Lady's chamber and the mustiness of our
spy-point.  y We went straight to the guardhouse, where My Lord called out
the guard.  They were to arrest the three miscreants and bring them to the
Great Hall.

   "Naked, Sire?" I heard myself say.

   "No.  Allow them to dress.  Do not tell them they are to be tried. 
Sergeant, you accompany your men, and send a couple of fellows to summon
the nobility and freemen of the Castle to the Great Hall."



   I was standing beside My Lord's great chair, slightly behind him as is
proper, and the nobility and freemen were in an arc facing the large space
of the Hall.  The great table had been turned so its polished surface was
now uppermost and it gleamed in the light of the many torches that had been
re-kindled to supplement the usual few late-evening candles.  There was an
air of excited expectancy, and I guessed the messenger who had summoned the
host of witnesses had told them of the coming trial.

   Sergeant Jenkin and six guards, all in full armour as befitted the
occasion led the accused in and they stood in front of the great table.

   They had been manacled.

   My Lady had eyes downcast and was sobbing: I doubted her grief was for
the enormity of her sins.  Self-pity most probably.

   Her lover was bolder, eyes facing his Lord, but ashen faced, and I could
see he was trembling.  He knew what his fate must be: his fear would be for
that, but more like for what might preceed it!

   The maid was weeping and seemed likely to faint.  A man-at arms propped
her up, not too tenderly.

   The Court heard the testimony of Sergeant Jenkin, and my own evidence
given much as I have recorded it here.  My Lord confirmed everything I had
described.

   By acclamation the throng of nobles and freemen found the couple guilty.

   I had prepared the words I had to say now very carefully:

   "Justine de Beausoleil and Florian Belcul.  You are found guilty of
treason to your lord, adultery, and unnatural sexual practises.  A
confession of guilt will, however, be required and will be obtained, either
willingly now, or painfully after you have been put to the question.  You
will not be unaware of the whips, the rack, the screws, the hooks, the fire
and branding irons in the Castle dungeons.  Will you confess?"

   As usual the threat of torture was sufficient and they were both eager
to comply.  I was pleased.  They deserved anything, any punishment that
could be imagined, and worse awaited them in Hell if such exists, but I was
glad torture was not needed.  It would have been a shame to mar such
beautiful young bodies with the rips, tears, slices, blood and worse of the
visit to the dungeons.....

   The confession documents, based on what My Lord had seen with his own
eyes, were brought, and signed.

   The right to sentence was My Lord's prerogative by long tradition, but
he delegated it to Sir William de Gervais, saying as that it was not seemly
for himself to sentence since he was the most-wronged party.  There was
applause at this generosity of spirit.

   Without much ado, Sir william de Gervais sentenced My Lady and Sir
Florian Belcul to be outlawed and to death by beheading: the maid was to be
whipped.  There was applause at the sentence.

   The guilty parties' status was now not only convicted felons, but
proclaimed "out-laws" in open court they were no longer "within the law",
literally.  The law offered them no protection at all, less even than a
peasant's dog.  There would be no crime committed if they were assaulted,
or even killed.

   Now My Lord was able to show the depth of his anger, the scope of his
desire for revenge.

   There was a frisson of horror, perhaps with an undertone of sexual
excitement as the waiting throng heard My Lord order that all three should
be stripped.

   The Sergeant himself dealt with Lady Justine, drawing his knife and
inserting the blade between her breasts.  With a swift downward motion he
ripped the satin and lace to her waist and beyond.  The dress fell in a
pool of scarlet satin at her feet leaving her dressed only in the fine
linen petticoat, breasts naked.  There was a gasp as he spun her round so
the spectators could have a view of her matchless bosom, rounded, white,
pink aureoles and nipples, the flesh so firm as to need no support.  They
were the breasts of a wealthy and pampered fifteen year old girl.

   The petticoat joined the debris of her finery among the strewn rushes
and her nakedness was exposed to the throng: there was a silence, a gasp of
admiration, a rustle as men and women leaned forward to see those slender
legs, that matchless bottom, the ctrimmed and tended fleece, the plump
labia.....

   Mine would not have been the only penis that awoke at the sight, and I
also saw several of the ladies licking their lips suggestively.

   Meanwhile a mail-coated guard had torn the youth's white shirt from his
back and cut the waist-band of his doublet.  The white hose was not spared
the soldiers knife, and his fashionably pointed shoes were thrown to a
freeman in the audience, who grabbed them and tried them for size against
his own boots.  The boy stood naked, seeking to hide his private parts with
his manacled hands.

   Another guard had stripped the maid and as instructed had tied her hands
over her head to a stout rope thrown over a roof-beam.  He hauled on the
rope till she was near-suspended, just the tips of her toes on the
rush-strewn floor.  Her breasts and jutting bottom were emphasised, their
shapeliness and ebony smoothness delightfully exposed by her stretched
posture.  Her skin must have been lightly oiled.....  probably in
preparation for the orgy we had interrupted....  because it gleamed in the
light of the torches on the wall and the table-candles.

   A spear from the decorations of the Hall was removed from its place on
the wall and was used to secure her ankles wide apart, the rope binding her
wrists being lowered just slightly so she was still stretched, tip-toed. 
Her inner thighs and her labia, her swelling little mound, all her
voluptuous femininity was mercilessly exposed to view.

   My Lord ordered his former wife (outlawed no divorce was necessary!) to
whip her maid, and a long horse-whip was placed in her hand.

   She sobbed as she gave a half-hearted swish of the whip against that
jutting bottom.

   "Harder, woman, or you and she will suffer worse.  Be-damned, my word
upon it!"

   As the lash snaked across her buttocks the girl let out her first cry of
pain.  A spiral of sparks flew up from the great fire as two servants threw
another billet of wood upon it, almost as if the flames leaped up to greet
her scream of anguish.

   I tore my eyes away from the spectacle to look at the company around me.
All, lords and ladies, the serving men and wenches, the men-at-arms, all
were as if hypnotised, silent and still, gaze concentrated on the
punishment of the naked girl administered by her equally naked and so
devastatingly beautiful mistress.  There was a look of excited arousal in
their eyes, all of them, male and female, and I am certain that velvet
cod-pieces were swollen beyond the usual results of fashionable stuffing
there: these erections were genuine, not faked!
To my shame I must admit I too was aroused, and my eyes just had to

return to the scene....  of horror, yes.  But also of lust.

   The Lady Justine was still sobbing, but doing as instructed.  The whip
whistled through the air and with each blow there was that piercing scream.

   And yet the skin was not broken!  It would take the strong arm of a
man-at-arms to do that: I knew as I had often seen it, but never before
where the recipient of the punishment was a woman, and a beauty at that.  I
knew the image of her naked breasts and buttocks, her hairless pubes and
smooth, flat belly, would remain with me to disturb my sleep for many
nights.  And her screams.

   "Her tits now, and her cunt.  Whip her soundly damn you to hell!"

   My Lady Justine moved around the girl, and I found myself counting the
strokes.  One across the breasts, the second upwards, striking thighs and
pudenda, then the third across the breasts and so on.  I found myself
thinking that if it had been the black girl whipping my lady, the marks
would show red on her fair skin; on Melissa's ebony there was no mark.

   I counted to twenty, and it may be My Lord had counted too as he shouted
"Enough!  Sergeant, how many men are on guard duty this eve?"

   "Twenty four, My Lord, Six here with the prisoners, twelve on sentry
duty, and six in reserve."

   "Excellent.  Have two of your men take the girl to the guard-room where
she is to stay till dusk tomorrow.  I have spared her the penalty I will
impose on her Mistress and her Mistress' lover as she was obeying her
Mistress' command....  though she clearly was happy to serve in the
capacity of a leman herself.  She is out-lawed until that time and your men
may use her as they will.  They will doubtless wish to alter the rotas so
all the sentries may have her as well in any way they desire.  And she will
be available for your whole brigade's pleasure for all the daylight hours
tomorrow.  Then she should be dressed and sent to the kitchens, where you
should instruct Messire Arnoldo to task her with the dirtiest and most
objectionable duties from now on...."

   There was a sort of exhalation of breath from the assembled throng as
the girl was cut down and led off.

   My Lady Justine stood, alone and eyes downcast, the horse-whip at her
feet in the straw, still sobbing.  Her shame was, she thought, complete.

   But it was not yet.  Oh no!



   The miscreant youth had been held securely by two burly guards and
forced to watch Melissa's punishment and his Mistress's humiliation.

   Now his punishment would begin!

   His Lordship swept his arm across a length of the great table, sweeping
goblets and wine-jugs away.  Instructed by him, the two guards bent the lad
over the table and held him there by his arms and shoulders.

   The throng craned teir necks ....  the ladies and wenches would
appreciate that tiny, hard-muscled male arse, but as I would find out soon,
so would many of the men lust after an athletic, smooth-skinned youth in
the prime of adolescence and helpless to resist rape.  because that is
where his punishment would begin.....

   My Lord stood close to the boy, but addressed the crowd as much the
boy....

   "You appropriated that which belonged to me by right.  Now I shall
appropriate that which belongs to you by right, you scoundrel".

   With that, he stood behind the helpless youth, un-trussed his red velvet
codpiece, liberating his penis, a magnificent weapon worthy of his State,
standing two hands at least tall, straight-shafted as any jousting lance,
broad and with a magnificent crowning helmet, red and flaring, like my
master's rage.  He spat on his hand, rubbed the spittle on his cock,
approached close to the boy, spread the arse-cheeks in front of him, and
without any ceremony or preparation rammed his cock into that now-available
anus.

   There was nothing sexual about it....  it was the expression of rage and
of the power to assuage that rage.  I doubt My Lord felt any sexual
pleasure in the act: if he had any of the shameful lust I now acknowledged
in myself doubtless he could have found many of his male courtiers and
their sons who would have been willing to accommodate him!  Heaven knows!
He had many of their daughters as a matter of course, an acceptable custom
and practise for the lord of any fortress!

   No, it was an exercise of power, of revenge and punishment.

   The boy screamed like a woman, and in doing so lost any remaining
sympathy at least from the males in the company: many of them had borne
pain manfully in battle while this foppish fellow was screaming like a
virgin losing her cherry!

   "At least I'll have his male virginity as compensation".

   His Lordship laughed as he drove his cock in and out, reducing the boy
now to sobbing....

   He came.  He slapped the lad's arse hard and withdrew, a stream of white
semen following his cock.  I could see the boy's anus: there was the semen
of course, but also streaks of blood where that flaring knob had torn his
sphincter, The anus was now red and inflamed.

   "Turn Him round!  Kneel and lick my cock clean, boy!  Any teeth is
instant death."

   The guards forced the boy into a kneeling position, My Lord held his
dagger to the boy's throat to give credence to his threat, and the
unfortunate lad had to lick the shit and semen from that cock.



   There was now a break in the celebration of My Lordship's justice while
carpenters buit two small scaffolds, and the throng continued their
interrupted carousing.  My Lord was on form, and the wine was now special
for the occasion.

   Even myself, normally abstemious, had drunk more than my usual mede by
the time the wooden frames had been constructed and fastened to the stone
floor, beneath them the rushes and straw that was newly strewn each
morning. I had been carried on a crest of a wave by the enthusiasm of the
Lords and their Ladies, led by his Lordship, whose anger seemed to have
been replaced now by an almost hysterical exuberance.  All of us were
enjoying the unusually choice wines, and I must admit my eyes, like those
of everyone else, kept straying to the abject figures of the culprits,
their hands manacled and the chains fixed to ring bolts in the walls, high
over their heads so their sexual parts were on view to everyone.  And we
all guessed what those frames were for......  not unlike the frameworks
built when a horse was led to a mare, or the prize bull to the cow.....

   When the carpenters had left the hall, the remaining guards unfastened
the ring-bolts and chained the two to the benches, which had been arranged
so each would be able to see his accomplice-in-sin's martyrdom.  Each was
bent forward over the central beam of their own frame, legs stretched wide
apart and tied in place, and their arms released from the manacles only to
be secured by the same hempen ropes to the feet of the frame.

   My Lord rapped the table with his tankard and got the silence he
demanded immediately: we had been waiting for this.

   "These two are outlaws and there is no crime committed in any treatment
of them, and I hold there is no sin either when their own sin was so
heinous.  Give them a taste of what they will soon feel in Hell.  The
benches have been constructed using designs that have not been needed for
at least a century, but their purpose is obvious.

   "My former wife has been secured so that all three of her orifices are
open and available.  Her lover so that both his are similarly inviting.

   "The guards will now retire: gentleman, we appreciate your loyal service
and your opportunity will come later.  So leave us now and enjoy the
voluptuous body of that other sinner, she who is now amusing your fellows
in the Guardroom.

   "Now, it will give your Lord pleasure to see you his followers take this
whore any way you wish.  And it will give him particular pleasure to see
you rape her lover in either of his two holes, and your Lord will not fail
to reward such loyal service from his Knights and Squires."

   It was obvious to me that My Lord suspected that without the incentive
of special favours, most of his retainers would spend their semen in the
whore rather than the boy.  From my knowledge of the confessional, I knew,
though, that many of the knights would need little encouragement to rape
first one and then the other.



   So I, like the ladies, was obliged to watch the men taking their
pleasure.

   Ours is a formal society and even in a matter such as this there were
still rules of precedence!  It was obvious that the commonality would hold
back until the two greatest among them had enjoyed the treat readied for
them.  So it was that old Sir Grosbit lumbered to his feet and made his way
over to the frame where Justine was awaiting her punishment.  Sir Guillaume
d'Ouvrecon followed him over.

   A circle of eager males surrounded them and I had to stand up to observe
Sir Grosbit untruss, shake his grey and grizzled cock, and without more
ceremony plunge it into her cunt.  She must have been dry because she let
out a scream of pain, which was stifled by d'Ouvrecon's cock in her mouth.

   That great barrel of lard laboured away at her for several minutes, his
hands on his hips and making mocking comments to the audience, while
d'Ouvrecon held her head steady with a bunch of her loose, golden hair in
his hand while he completed the spit-roast.

   At last the fat old man came and pulled his cock: a surprising amount of
semen fo such an old fellow followed it out, and immediately d'Ouvrecon
grasped the girl's hips and thrust his cock into the vacant hole, more
easily this time, lubricated by his senior's emission I assume.



   There were no men at the other scaffold where Florian watched in horror
the humiliation and martyrdom of his beloved.

   This did not suit My Lord at all, and I could see the beginnings of
anger as he realised that for reasons of sexual preference or perhaps
shyness to admit the attraction of young, male buttocks, the boy was not
going to be fucked.  I watched with interest as he beckoned a young squire,
a lad called Watkin who I knew to be about fifteen, though already weapons
drill had given him a hard, athletic body and sturdy frame.  The boy nodded
and touched his forelock.

   He had no cod-piece but lowered his woollen drawers to reveal buttocks
every bit as attractive as young Florian Belcul, and a penis so hard as to
prove that this boy found the male orifice just as compelling as the
female, perhaps more so.  Two ladies of the court followed him to watch
more closely what may have been for them an exciting act.....

   There was a pot of hog-fat on the floor by the frame and the boy scooped
some on his fingers and stood greasing his penis.....  I got an impression
one of the grand dames would willingly have performed that service for him,
and to my shame I must admit that my own manhood twitched in appreciation
of his noble weapon!

   Florian screamed like a girl as that cock penetrated his anus.....  he
was a coward as well as an adulterer.  I have seen men dying of fearful
wounds, in great pain, but going silent and brave to their maker.  And the
screams continued as the boy pounded his cock in and out, making me wonder
if the frame was secure enough anchored to the floor, but eventually he
just sobbed.

   One of the Ladies reached beneath and fingered Belcul's balls and penis.
She laughed and reported back they were tiny and shrivelled, no use to a
woman in this state.  But her eyes shone and I could well imagine the
turmoil of lust awakened in those soft thighs....

   In no time at all the virile lad had cum, depositing his seed in the
barren field, and was forcing his half-hard, shitty penis into an unwilling
mouth.  The knife at Belcul's throat served to remind him the penalty for
any unwise use of teeth as he cleaned the instrument of his shame.

   My Lord was now in a better frame of mind, and as he beckoned to the lad
again his Chamberlain handed him a little bag.  Gold!  Room was made for
the boy beside My lord, and it was clear to the court that this particular
sevice would be rewarded, and that the boy Watkin had leaped up a few
stages in the court pecking-order.  As a result, several more men were
willing to try this out, aided and abetted by their ladies, perhaps eager
to see a new sex-act, and certainly to see their men rise in My Lord's
favour.

   In fact it is true to say there was as much interest in the boy's anus
as in the girl's vagina.....  and more than in the girl's anus, though some
fantasists were enjoying that as well.  Assisted, no doubt, by the quality
and quantity of the wine the gallants of the court were showing great
stamina, returning to the well several times each.

   The ladies of the court were in high spirits too, many of them egging
their men on to further rapes, teasing and kissing them as they fucked or
buggered.



   What followed next can perhaps be blamed on the wine or on the Fallen
Nature of mankind, to which even Priests are not immune.  I had been
watching those two very beautiful, very desirable, very tempting young
bodies being violated in all their orifices, and my own penis was aroused,
as was perhaps inevitable.

   The young travelling friar, Brother Andrew, was standing beside me
watching the orgy, perhaps seeking the solid protection of Mother Church.
This would be in vain if relying on me.  I could see he was in the same
state as myself, his clerical robes tented out in front of him, suggesting
a hard, and probably large cock hidden there.  I turned to him.

   "Brother, I can stand no more of these disturbing scenes, which I fear
will rest in my memory for many years."

   "I am the same, Father, and the condemned are so beautiful they would
tempt a saint.  I had best leave too before I do something I might
regret..."

   "Let us leave, then.  But it would be a sin to leave this excellent
wine. I shall take a bottle, that we can split together..."

   "Then I shall take two...."



   So it was that three hours, and four bottles later we were the two of us
still seated at the table in my cell, empty bottles and glasses before us,
silent now.  Drunk!

   Brother Andrew broke the silence, slurring his words as he had for the
last hour or so.

   "Seems such a waste...."

   "What seems?"

   "That two such beautiful creatures should be killed so young."

   "They asked for it, Brother Andrew." I laughed.  "And think of the
pleasure they've given Our Lordship's retainers over the last few hours....
"

   "And me, too, if I am to be honest, Father.  Were there ever such
breasts, so shapely and firm, and that tiny waist and rounded, pretty bum?
You can hardly blame the boy too much for succumbing to her long blonde
hair and blue eyes.  A body to die for!  Literally!" He laughed.  "And I
must admit she would tempt me too."

   "I noticed, Brother, while we were both watching them being whipped and
then fucked your penis was ungoverned!"

   "As was yours, Father!  Admit it."

   "Yes I was tempted.  You know as Our Lord has divorced her the sin would
be merely venial, not mortal.  Fornication, not adultery...."

   "But rape none-the-less, Father.  And no doubt about the mortal sin of
buggery if one found the boy's buttocks tempting...."

   "As in fact I did, Brother!  And still do.  There is no sin that cannot
be forgiven with confession, penance, and absolution.  God is infinitely
merciful...."

   "Are you thinking what I am thinking?  I will never have such a chance
of enjoying a body so soft and shapely, and His Lordship would be doubly
content if it ever came to his ears that we had made use of the facility
offered, as it were...."

   "And I could confess to you, and you to me...."

   "The penance I prescribed would not be severe....."

   "Nor mine."

   "Shall we?"

   We were already both rising from the table, and my cock was already
half-hard with the prospect.  The only decision remaining to me was whether
to have the boy or the girl first, and if the girl whether to enjoy her
cunt or arse-hole first.  In fact, I knew already that it was the boy I
desired, his smooth, firm buttocks with their masculine muscles beneath the
so-white flesh, and those manly thighs, white too but with golden hairs. 
It would be too much to hope for that erect penis I had seen through the
spy-hole earlier: I imagined no stimulus would raise that manhood with the
threat of imminent death hanging over him.  No, Brother Andrew could have
the girl with her tempting locks and breasts: I would have the boy.

   I have wondered over the years since that night why I will always choose
a handsome boy over a beautiful girl, though I find both sexually
appetising.  Perhaps it was because in my youth I had been frightened
continually by the monks who raised me, scared of hell-fire through the
wiles of women such as Eve, Delilah and the other scarlet whores.  In my
mind sin meant succumbing to the temptations of the female form.

   There was never any mention of the sin of buggery, of fellation, of the
delights a man may take in the body of a handsome youth or pretty boy.

   Be that as it may, there would be no argument.  He could have Justine. I
would have Florian!



   But when we got back to the Great Hall it was near deserted, the torches
extinguished and the sole light the dying embers of the fire.  A guard
stood in front of My Lord's throne, coming to attention as we stumbled in.

   "Where are they?  Executed already?"

   "No Father.  A scaffold has been erected outside the gates and they are
secured there: My Lord thought it only fair that now the great people and
the guards have taken their pleasure, the yeomen and peasantry of the
village should have their turn.  They will be told they may use the outlaws
as they wish until morning, when Messire Di Bandoliccho will execute the
pair."

   "I take it you enjoyed them yourself, my man?"

   "Aye, Father.  Twice the boy and once the lass.  I am not the man I was
twenty years ago when it would have been many times more!  I hope there was
no sin, Father?"

   "No sin at all.  You were doing as your lord instructed and have
fulfilled your duty to him, punishing the miscreants.  And if you felt
pleasure, as I am sure you did, that is a reward for your loyalty.  Nothing
to confess there, good fellow."

   "Thank you, Father."



   Of course, we both made our way across the courtyard and past the
Guardroom to the gate, where the sentry let us through.

   The scaffold had been built as a platform perhaps two fathoms tall and
with the same frames that had been used in The Great Hall.  This time the
two culprits were shackled facing the road to the village, but diagonal on
the platform so each would be able to see the other as both were further
punished.  An aged crone in black had been washing their shitty and bloody
buttocks and legs, their cum-crusted faces and chests with pails of cold
water.  She had finished, and we dismissed her.

   The solitary guard stood to attention till I put him at ease and
reminded him that his duty was to watch the gate and the ditch, not the
attractive nude fugures on the scaffold.  Time for that when he was off
duty!  He saluted and turned his back to what I and Brother Andrew
intended.

   Brother Andrew held back a moment, presumably deferring to my seniority,
allowing me to have first choice!

   If you had asked me what I would have found the greatest temptation even
a few hours previously then I would have been certain it would be the firm
breasts, rounded bum, and long blonde hair of the Lady Justine, but at some
time during the orgy in the Great Hall I had become aware of my true self.
It was the youth!  Young Florian's athletic body, his broad, flawless back
and that hard little masculine bum, that was what my animal self lusted
after, that made my penis stand!

   I felt almost young again myself, full of vigour as I slapped Brother
Andrew on the back and told him, "Go for it....  she's all yours.  I'm for
the boy!"

   There was a desperation in the youth's voice, faint from fatigue so only
I would be able to hear his words as I placed my hands on his flesh and
felt the muscles of his thighs and buttocks.

   "Shrive me, Father, as I am to die in the morning and I need absolution
from my sins.  I could not enter heaven with the weight of my sins upon
me."

   {Now the manuscript has a note in ordinary cursive script, presumably
Father Absalom's hand, along the right hand margin of the page with an
inicative mark to show where in the text it would belong.  'Do not write
this in the book, Cedric, but I have my doubts about heaven, and if indeed
there is a God then I cannot imagine he is interested in the lusts of mere
men, where a man, even a priest puts his penis, or when he does, come to
that.  What is certain is that pleasure is real and in no doubt as we both
know so very well.  You can write again now, boy.'}

   "I am not here to hear your confession, Florian, but to bugger your
sweet arse.  My Lord has no wish for you to be absolved, and he is content
if the weight of your sins delivers you straightway to Belial's Maw!  In
fucking your tight arse-hole I am fulfilling My Lord's desire for revenge
and to be honest it will give me a pleasure I have been contemplating all
this long and memorable night!"

   Brother Andrew was alreading swiving his whore, his black robes up
around his waist, his cock punching in and out, his arms around her body
holding onto those lovely tits.  Time I got started!

   The scaffold had my target at exactly the right height for me and it was
surprisingly easy for me to raise my skirts, place myself behind him my
throbbing penis in my fist, rub it between his buttocks, still oily from
hog-fat despite the crone's attentions, locate his orifice with my knob,
and push it in.  I assume because it had been used so many times in the
last few hours it was in no way tight, in fact with what I now know I must
admit it was rather unsatisfactorily loose.  But his buttocks felt good
under my palms as I ploughed his furrow.

   I felt beneath him hoping to find that penis I had so admired when
peering through the peep-hole in My Lady's ceiling, but all I could find
was a shrivelled little thing, shrunken and pathetic.  Not surprising,
really, in a man who had been raped by dozens over hours, was being raped
yet again, and was contemplating death and then damnation.

   I was enjoying it though.

   I now know how much better it is when one knows one is also giving
pleasure as well as taking it, but the Father Absalom of that night was
still ignorant of such finesse and was content to fuck, and finally empty
his balls into that much-abused rectum.

   When I looked up I saw Brother Andrew had finished too, and was wiping
his cock clean on Justine's bum.  I rinsed mine in the water from the
crone's bucket.

   We met each other's eyes....  no shame there.  I laughed, Andrew did
too, and we returned to split another bottle of My Lord's best wine.



   In the morning a crowd of villagers had already gathered at the gate of
the Castle, and the walls were lined with the ladies and children of the
court.  Their menfolk, in their best clothes, or some even in their
chain-mail were in a semi-circle at the foot of the scaffold where our two
woebegone victims were still shackled watching the raucous and excited
crowd.  Executions were not unknown, but beautiful, young, aristocratic and
naked was special.  And the Venetian executioner was known to add certain
very unusual and stimulating refinements to his Task.  Amid all the jollity
there was an undertone of raw, sxual tension, women's eyes shining, men
with suspiciously large bulges in their cod-pieces.

   There was a fanfare of trumpets and Messire Di Bandoliccho dressed in
black velvet and satin, the traditional black mask over his face, appeared
through the postern gate, followed by his two assistants, one carrying the
great axe, the other the garotte.

   The crowd cheered.  Messire Di Bandoliccho ignored them, the soul of
professional dignity, and stood at-ease while Sir William's sentence of
death was read to the prisoners and the crowd.

   It was heard in complete silence.

   Then there was a sort of rushing sound as men and women gasped or sighed
according to their inclination, watching Messire Di Bandoliccho stand
behind the youth, untruss his own cod-piece and allow it to flop downwards
to reveal a large, and very rapmpant manhood.

   The assistant handed him the garotte, and he showed it to the crowd, a
wooded handle in each hand and the wire stetched between.  Absurdly I
thought of a child's skipping rope!

   He stood behind the unfortunate Florian and I knew from my experience
the night before that the Venetian's flaming red knob must be at the very
portal of the youth's anus.

   He placed the wire over the boy's head, around his neck, and using the
handles twisted and tightened it till we could see it biting into the
flesh. Messire Di Bandoliccho thrust and there was another gasp from the
crowd as they realised he had penetrated the lad and was buggering him.

   The wire was tightened a turn or two more, and the boy's mouth opened,
his tongue lolled out, and his eyes bulged.  Messire Di Bandoliccho was now
moving his hips backwards and forward in a slow rhythm: even from my angle,
which was not the best, I could see that penis sliding in and out matchless
buttocks.

   Another turn and the boy was gasping for breath.  And at that moment,
astoundingly, Florian's penis rose as hard and as handsome as that night in
his Mistress' bedchamber.

   There was another gasp from the crowd, which otherwise was as silent as
if bewitched, concentration intent at the rare sight.

   Now he shagged the boy harder, always tightening the noose.

   And then the boy came, a final spurt of young life before he died.  The
semen flew through the air as vigorous as any youth could achieve, and
there was a further gasp.

   A solitary moan broke the silence.  The Lady Justine had, of course,
seen the whole martydom of her lover, who seemingly had expired at the
moment of orgasm.

   I remember thinking that My Lord would be doubly content that the
traitor had died in a moment of impurity, and was surely consigned to that
circle of hell reserved for sodomites.

   It was not clear whether Messire Di Bandoliccho had spent his seed
inside the boy's anus: certainly he was still erect when the assistant
handed him a towel to wipe his parts before he took his station behind
Justine.

   Here the process was identical, though there was no evidence of orgasm
in Justine as she expired.  However, there was a stream of urine to
complete her humiliation!

   Later Messire Di Bandoliccho told me over a glass of claret that there
was no sensation to match the contractions of an anus or a vagina at the
moment of death.  "Like dipping it in honey, in a sack of eels." He
laughed, as he charged his glass again.



   But the fun was not yet over for the crowd.  Next he would behead the
corpses!

   But he spoke quietly to the Sergeant, who the addressed the crowd.

   "It is his Lordship's desire that any who wishes may enjoy these two
miscreants while their flesh is yet warm and welcoming.  You are free to
use them as you will until such time as all are satisfied, or until noon,
whichever is the earlier."

   There was a bantering, heckling noise of laughter and shouts as the
first taker climbed the steps to the scaffold.  He was old and walked with
a staff to support himself, but when he lowered his peasant's trews to
disclose his scrawny, grey shanks, he nonethless revealed a stiff and veiny
old cock that had clearly seen long and heavy service.  He was cheered as
he shagged the corpse of my former Lady.  The ice was broken and there was
now a small queue, and Andrew and I watched while most fucked her, but a
few fucked him.  The queue for her cunt was always loger than for his arse!

   We were bored by this necrophilia and peasant ribaldry after a few
minutes, and Messire Di Bandoliccho accepted my offer of a glass or two
inside, until noon or he was summoned by his assistants to complete his
contract.



   Messire Di Bandoliccho was an interesting fellow.  He had been a priest,
and so theoretically still was, though his profession made it desirable not
to advertise that fact.

   He told us that he had left the Priesthood when he found he could no
longer tolerate the abstinence demanded.  He liked the young girls too
much, and the boys even more.

   I admitted to him that I found the sight of the naked, beautiful couple
very tempting, and Brother Andrew nodded agreement.

   "Made you regret your profession I expect?"

   "Not at all.  I indulged.  I had the boy!"

   "And the confession?"

   "Not a problem.  I will confess to Andrew here, and he to me...."

   "I had the girl, you see," Andrew added helpfully.

   "Best of both worlds then and no business of the Bishop! 
Congratulations".  He reached for the bottle.....

   It was in this brief conversation that I decided that abstinence was not
for me either.  I would enjoy those athletic young men who were, I was
sure, available to me in my situation within the Castle.  Yes and the
occasional girl too.  But mostly boys!

   One of the Ececutioner's Assistants entered, and we returned to the
scaffold.

   There was a cheer as we emerged from the postern-gate, and then a
silence as Messire Di Bandoliccho took the great axe from his assistant.

   With just one, arking swing he cut Justine's head from her shoulders. 
She was still warm enough for blood to flow, but dead enough for it not to
spurt.

   One of the assistants picked the head from the floor where it had rolled
and held it out for the crowd to admire.

   Another, very professional and skillful swing and the boy's head too was
held up by its hair.

   There was nothing more save the unshackling of the headless bodies which
were dragged off to be thrown in the castle ditch and picked clean by the
dogs and the crows.  The heads were mounted on pikes and displayed on the
walls each side of the gates, where they remained a rotting reminder of My
Lord's anger and vengeance, and a warning to others for a full year, until
they too were thrown in the ditch.



   And that ends the manuscript as dictated by Father Absalom and written
beautifully by the Postulant Cedric.

   But a copy that still exists in The Castle Archives has a further page
written in the less beautiful and somewhat shaky hand of the Father
himself, the same hand as the earlier damning admission of agnosticism,
perhaps even atheism, and certainly blasphemous heresy!

   {'I told the boy we had done.  He looked up at me with those deep blue
eyes of his, so beautiful with his full, red lips and blonde hair.  He
looked very serious as he often does, but when he licked his lips my gaze
dropped to focus on his crotch: like mine, his black skirts were tented!

   'My Lord, who hears eventually everything that happens in the Castle,
learned soon after the execution, about my and Brother Andrew's fall from
grace and was so pleased that he immediately made Brother Andrew a
permanent member of the court, junior to me, but permitted to hear all but
His Lordship's confessions: that honour was reserved to me.  As a reward
for my loyalty in refusing absolution to the rogue lovers he improved my
accomodation giving me a larger set of rooms with a wall adjoining the
chimney stack of the Great Hall which meant it was never cold even in the
fiercest winter weather.

   'I had decided I would no longer forgo the pleasures of the flesh, and
made hay among the youth of the village.  Brother Andrew did so as well,
but we did not get under each other's feet as he concentrated on the
unmarried girls while I favoured the athletic youths with just the
occasional foray into the feminine world, to keep my hand in as it were. 
When word of my new habits reached His Lordship he was so gratified (or
perhaps amused) that he gave me this beautiful Saxon boy as my assistant,
and within weeks Cedric was used to warming my bed for me and tolerant of
my demands on his bottom and his penis.  Within months he was as eager for
the pleasures of the flesh as myself......

   'They say that the semen of a fit young lad will keep the pains of age
at bay, and certainly in my case at eighty three years of age I am as
active and virile as I was in my twenties.

   'Most nights I feast on his semen as he eagerly fucks my mouth and fills
it with his silky juices.  Then I always fuck the boy, either from behind
kneeling, or from behind the two of us laying side-by side.  If his penis
stiffens while I am doing this I will turn him on his back, one or two legs
over my shoulder so I may see him rub his member till the life-giving
juices againspurt from it.  Then I will finish my work in him and lick up
those juices, for the good of my health and for the pleasure of the salty
taste and silky texture.

   'We were both appreciative of the secrecy that the great oak door and
the yard-thick walls afforded, and also the warmth of the room as we
cavorted and slept always naked.

   'All these acts are of course forbidden, and all the more pleasurable
for that!

   'As well as being a fit, beautiful youth, devoted lover, and. 
accomplished catamite, the boy is literate and writes with great beauty. 
He is all that I need, though we both enjoy the occasional opportunity to
introduce a good-looking village lad to the pleasures of the flesh on the
pretext of teaching him the catechism!  I allow him to fuck such casual
opportunities, but never let him fuck me, or even ride my cock astride me.
I wish to be in control at all times, and believe he prefers this too.

   'And so, after he had blotted the page and closed the book, I led him to
our bed where, naked we made "the beast with two backs" till we were both
satiated, at least temporarily......]



   Fin