("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: oddlove.txt (MF/pre-teen, ped) Authors name: Lor Oldmann (jamwad@hotmail.com) Story title : Odd Love Affairs -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Odd Love Affairs (MF/pre-teen, ped) by Lor Oldmann (jamwad@hotmail.com) *** Another heightened biographical contribution designed to illustrate the postulation that crazy mixed-up sexuality is not a particularly modern phenomenon, or something of the sort. *** It was not so much a love triangle as an emotional quadrille; it was, however, one of the oddest love relationships in history. Dante (or Durante) Alighieri was nine when he first cast his seedy little eyes on Beatrice Portinari who was just about to become ten. It was love at first sight, for, by all accounts she was an exceedingly beautiful child, but doomed from the start. She was engaged in a secret compact to be married to an already married effeminate homosexual, as soon as his enfeebled wife died. According to urban legend, Simon de' Bardi had a friend stand in for him on his wedding night when he finally married Beatrice ten years later. Beatrice died three years after her marriage, allegedly of a broken heart for longing after Dante, but almost certainly from boredom. Dante had been promised in marriage, firstly, to a fair maiden who died in infancy, then, when he was eleven or twelve, to the rather plumpish, near idiotic Gemma Donati, daughter of the powerful family of Guelf. There is no doubt that Dante was a crazy mixed-up kid. You only have to read some of the descriptive pieces of Divina Commedia to see the effects. Apart from the off- putting marriage arrangements, and his hopeless love for Beatrice, his mother died when he was seven. His father quickly remarried and ordered the son to spend some time with his 'uncle' Brunetto Latini so that he (the father) could have some quality time with his new bride. "I'll be buggered if I go to stay with the old faggot," was Dante's immediate response. And sure enough, he was! In The Divine Comedy the 'uncle' appears in the seventh circle of hell reserved for those who have a taste for sodomy. Latini, for his part, thought he had hit rock bottom with Dante, a little bum who was way behind the times. The stepmother couldn't stand the little brat either. So he really was buggered up. When Dante was fifteen, his father died. He had his marriage to look forward to, a lifetime in the company of the ugliest, craziest bitch in Florence. His stepmother wanted nothing to do with him, and he had to fight for every cent of his inheritance. So the visits to Uncle Brunetto took on a kind of permanence. The experience he gained in Latini's bed held him in good stead for when he shacked up with the homosexual poet Guido Cavalcanti. The one and only thing that kept Dante sane was his childhood love for Beatrice. Her image was indelibly printed into his imagination and was with him right up to the moment of his death. He had seen her first, very briefly, in a narrow street in Florence. Their eyes met and in that split second Dante knew that he could never find satisfaction in another female. A few days later, their paths crossed and they exchanged smiles and the conviction of true love was confirmed. There could and would be no other person for him. But even at that early age, there seeded in his mind the certain knowledge that it was a love unattainable, which was fine as far as he was concerned, for that was the truest kind of love in the thirteenth century: amour courteous or courtly love. It is suggested that while he was making love to his ugly wife he tried to concentrate on the image of Beatrice. He tried the same trick while he was being sodomised by Uncle Brunetto and in the arms of Cavalcanti, but it seemed not to have worked in any of these cases, for true love had nothing to do with that kind of gross sexual activity. It is almost certain that he found more satisfaction in masturbating. After all, it was a release readily at hand. His wife may have been ugly, but she still produced seven children for him - any port in a storm! The six sons were as crazy as the father and the daughter was as ugly as the mother. The daughter, who was called (surprise, surprise) Beatrice, became a nun and it is reported that every time she entered or left the convent the gargoyles at the gateway grimaced; one cynic declared her to be so ugly that even the mother superior didn't fancy her. There is no doubt that Dante followed the day-to-day reports about his true love; he wrote sonnets about her - absolutely no mention in any of his poetry of the ugly bitch was living with. He could tell what Beatrice ate at dinner, when she was constipated, when her monthlies were due, and when she died, he did not take himself off to a monastery exactly, but he became all religious and crossed himself twice daily and read De Consolatione Philosophiae of Boethius and Aquinas's Summa Theologiae and, worse still, he started to write complicated sentimental poems to her memory. At the end he lost the place altogether and put Beatrice on the summit of the seventh heaven to replace the Virgin Mary in his poetry. A friend once asked him, "Given the chance, would you have screwed the little cow?" Dante took exception to the question, but he gave it a lot of thought, then replied, "I very much doubt it, for that would have destroyed the quality of love between us. And who need friends anyway?" And he challenged the other man to a duel for daring to insult his ideal. And killed him! So much then for thirteenth century amour courtois. Move on a few centuries and we come across an equally odd, but distinctly dissimilar love affair involving a beautiful woman and a nut. In 1823 an artist was commissioned to paint a portrait. They fell instantly in love and had a torrid affair. Nothing odd in that - it happens all the time. The artist, Edwin Landseer, was 21 while the subject, Duchess Georgina of Bedford, was twice his age. So? He really had only painted animals before this. So? She was the wife of the third richest man in England and had borne him nine darling children. And her husband not only knew about the love affair, but positively encouraged it and shielded the pair from the worst of the scandal it caused. And the affair lasted until Georgina died aged 72! Oh! Beat that Hollywood! Georgina was one of the many daughters of the Duke of Gordon. She was born and brought up in a fairy-tale castle that went back in time beyond the days of Shakespeare's MacBeth in the north of Scotland. Even as young girls, she and her sisters were volatile sex kittens who experimented with emotions and lived life to the full with few inhibitions and less parental control. When she married, she insisted, it would be for love. It was convenient that she fell in love with one of the richest men around. And the nine children of the marriage gives some indication of its intensity. There is not a single recorded occasion when Georgina had a headache. A good case could be made for the argument that the old Duke of Bedford had been worn out by her demands. There is every indication that he looked around for someone else to do the dirties with his wife. Artists had the reputation, and Edwin Landseer, young, virile and inexperienced, and stupid, was available. To claim that the Duke was guiltless in bringing the pair together would leave a lot of obvious questions unanswered. The plain fact was that she was a randy bitch, her husband was past it, and Landseer was there for the taking. We hear a lot in modern times about sexploitation involving women; in Georgian England right up to and well into Victorian times the use of candy- boys for bored society ladies was common and blatant and, in fact, along with strong drink, became the focus of attack by the moral reformers on the second half of the nineteenth century. Poverty, child prostitution, industrial exploitation, prevailing epidemics of cholera, influenza, pneumonia and tuberculosis, bad housing, street crime, all these were of secondary importance and would have to take their place in the queue. Edwin Landseer, at the best of times, was not the full bucket of sand in the brain department. As a child in London he would run screaming "Rape!" if approached by a girl in the street, and at home he used to hide from female visitors behind chairs. He refused sweets from strangers because he was convinced that they were poisoned. He slept fully clothed for fear that, were he to die in the night, he would appear naked before God. He suffered from a constricted bladder and irritable bowels, because he refused to perform the demands of nature in any but his the privy in his own home. And he washed every part of his body except his pudenda, because these parts were naughty. There is no doubt that the kid was in the genius class for art; he exhibited his work in the Royal Academy when he was thirteen at a time when that famous institution was dominated by antiquated old farts who turned up their noses at masterpieces by Dyce, Raeburn and Nasmyth. Nevertheless, the first signs of mental instability were to be seen even in his animal pictures; he not only included human characteristics, he actually believed that the beasts could and did communicate with him through their emotions and their mannerisms. He was closer to animals than people. Until he met Georgina. She opened up a new world to him. In other words, she opened up for him. And how! They went at it right there under the nose of the old Duke, she took him away for dirty weekends and flouted him in public. She rented Doune Castle for a season and screwed the last drop of sex and sensuality out of their time together there. She became pregnant again by Landseer. The Duke of Bedford accepted the fact and the result as his own flesh and blood. Menopause came upon her soon after the birth of the Lady Rachel, but if anything her sex drive increased. When the Duke of Bedford died in 1839, Landseer asked Georgina to marry him. She laughed, and demanded, "Why do you want to go and do a silly thing like that? It is so tiresome being laid by a husband; a lover is no much more exciting! And anyway, if we were married I would have to split the shekels left by the old boy. Not that I married him for his money." She provided an allowance for the artist and continued to fuck him senseless almost until the day she also passed to the great beyond. Landseer lived for another twenty years. It took that long to recover his breath. But his mental condition deteriorated to the point where he was a slobbering, gibbering lunatic. He was quite incredibly handsome even as a fruitcake, and passing rich on the endowment Georgina left him. He was invited to ask for the hand of sweet young debutantes at various times, but he always retained just enough sanity to refuse. He never married. Georgina was his model and, like Dante, he sustained himself through the remainder of his life with the image of her female perfection deeply planted in his mind. END ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life in anyway shape or form. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 20