Dr Casswell's Plaything (15 page)

As they went back upstairs Sarah could not help but wonder what the cruise might entail, and was overcome with a bad feeling. The increasing mistrust between the two men was becoming perilous, and she suspected that Uri Weissman had a few tricks up his sleeve to get what he wanted.

After the events of the previous day and evening it was absolute bliss to be back in the cool dark vault sitting beside Dr Casswell, piecing together the events that surrounded Beatrice, and as Sarah began to transcribe the notes her thoughts rapidly drifted away from Weissman and back to Beatrice de Fleur, currently incarcerated in the isolated abbey far away from her lord and master.

…It seems that I am alone now, lost and cold and at the mercy of the abbot and his debauched and cruel womenfolk. Sister Judith is proving true to her word. Every day here I pay for what she sees as my transgressions. I sense that she plans to break me and make me pay for my part in her sister’s betrayal, whether I deserve to be treated badly or not.

Here in the abbey I am expected to be at the beck and call of whoever shouts the loudest, and whomever I cannot serve has reason to punish me for failing them. I am so tired and so lost.

For weeks now I have longed for word of my master, praying that he would send for me, praying that he would have a change of heart although knowing, hope against hope, that it could not be true; who am I, a mere servant girl compared to the Lady Cassandra?

Each day I wake in the bed of whoever has had use of me the night before. Oft time it is the abbot himself, who although he has a taste for boys sees me, quite slim built and still young and fresh, as the best of both worlds. He likes it most when I let him take me from behind, invading my bottom, his gnarled and veined old cock buried to the hilt while he mauls my breasts and bites my neck and shoulders. For such and old man he has an insatiable appetite. Each morning he wakes ever eager for more, always hungry, his manhood stiff and ready he pulls me to him to suck his cock, or ride him until his seed and passion is spent. He tells often that morning pleasure sates the aches and base desires that plague a man of the cloth, and relief before morning prayers means he can turn his thoughts to higher things and allow him to go about the more normal duties of a man in his position with a clear and lucid mind.

It seems that only after dark is the rest of the abbey a den of debauchery such as I saw on the night of my arrival. During the day we are expected to carry on much as any other holy order – although I feel that nothing can quite disguise the taste and flavour of lust that lingers here in the walls like the taint of smoke.

Each day when morning prayers are over Sister Judith puts me to work, cleaning and washing and doing such menial tasks as she feels might break my spirit.

Often she will call me to attend in the visitors parlour if travellers and pilgrims happen by, my body barely covered, dressed in little more than rags. The reputation of the Abbey of St Joseph is widespread. Some travellers come miles out of their way, far from the normal pilgrims’ route to take advantage of our hospitality. Most have heard of the goings on and come to sample the buxom charms of the sisters Mary and Therese. While the sisters ply their trade, one working on each other with tongue and fingers and that great carved phallus, inviting the pilgrims to join them, I am there to wait on table, bringing in wine and such victuals as are required, and when the watchers are heated from the show to be used as they see fit.

Sister Judith has had my hair hacked short, so I look more like a youth than ever. I am dressed in a simple unbleached shift that does little to flatter my body, but little to hide me either. It seems that lost as I am there are men who prefer the submission of a true slave to the bawdy charms and demands of Junoesque sisters.

‘Come close, little one,’ they whisper, as I hurry by with my tray or basket or jug of beer. Moving closer – for it seems I am ever under the watchful eye of Sister Judith, and know I will be beaten if I upset the pilgrims or deny them what they crave so badly – I close my eyes as they slide their coarse hands up under my robes to seek out those secret places. Some wish to fondle my breasts, or slip their hand between my legs, fingers seeking entry, some cold and brutal, some gentle, and all shades in between.

And then, when their blood is up, they look towards Judith who for the price of a few coppers or a bottle of brandy or some trinket that catches her eye, directs them to take me out to the stables. My body is bought and bartered and used for coppers. Out in the stable they mount and take me like some domestic animal, a beast of burden fit only for one thing.

But Judith will not break me, I have sworn that. I may be a slave here in the abbey, but I have known love and joy and the great passion of true desire. I know the way my master’s face lit when he saw me, I know the feeling in my heart, and in my belly as he called me to him and as he took me to his bed. Even now, in the dark of the cellar, I can smell his body and feel the weight of him moving against me and feel of his cock pressing home. Nothing Judith can ever do to me will or can take those feelings and memories away.

During the day I turn my hand to more domestic matters, and while I work I dream of life back in the castle with my master. I had thought to make friends with the hunchback boy, but his mind is too muddled by lust and too simple to hide it. He frightens me, although I have tried hard to win him over with kindness and gifts of food, but even so, I am loath to be alone with him for he is strong and rough. He likes to touch me and Judith does little to discourage it.

Many come this way, and every traveller who comes through the gates, every man who takes me out to the stable, every woman who bids me lay with her and show her delights that no man could match, I have asked them all after the fate of my lord. I hang onto every scrap of news however small, however unlikely its truth. I have passed those things through my mind like a miser counting his hoard. I heard tales of good harvest, of festivals and hunts and fine feasts. But then today came the news that I had dreaded, from a monk travelling with a party of merchants and their ladies.

I was taking ale through to the main hall and caught him between the rigours of his devotions and heading for what I suspect he already knew would be high jinx in the hall.

‘So know you anything of his lordship?’ I asked, replenishing his mug from the jug of ale I carried. I had already told him that I’d served in that household caring for and teaching my master’s children.

‘Aye, indeed I do,’ said the monk, cheerfully. ‘We are on our way to that very castle now,’ he embellished, ‘for the wedding celebrations of the man of whom you speak and the Lady Cassandra. Would you like me to pass on your good wishes?’ His words were a spiteful joke, for what was the worth of good wishes from a slave?

But the joke was lost on me as my heart sank like a stone – if only he knew how far. I shook my head and thanked him, but my good wishes, even if they reached their destination, would cause only more trouble.

My eyes filled with heartfelt tears just from the very thought of it.

It was late, the merchants’ ladies had retired after dinner and the rigours of the day, so only the men and those who lived in the abbey were gathered in the great hall. Drunk from ale they began to call for an entertainment, and of course Sister Judith and the abbot were only too happy to oblige. For a price.

As I walked in with the ale Judith caught hold of my arm. ‘Come, girl,’ she said. I had spent most of the evening in the kitchen and was surprised she called me, as it was always the sisters of the abbey who put on such entertainment if it was to be had. It was this that the abbey was famous for.

On the dais the abbot waved to one of the monks, Brother Joshua, who helped him with all the affairs both godly and base at the abbey. The man banged his staff on the floor to catch the attention of the revellers.

‘Tonight, gentlemen,’ he announced, ‘as you are all men of means, we are to have an auction of our more saleable items for the poor of the parish.’

‘We don’t want t’pay no more money for no more relics, nor more prayers said for our mortal souls, no more old bones,’ heckled one drunken voice from the pit, and those gathered laughed.

The monk laughed too. ‘Tis a good thing, for none are on offer, brother. What we had in mind was the sale of revel; a little pleasure.’ As he spoke Judith pushed me further onto the dais.

‘Ah, here we are,’ said Brother Joshua, catching my arm and pulling me into the light. ‘Here we have a fine example of the very thing I mean. Our first lot; what am I bid for a night with this fine and comely wench.’

There was a low babble and murmur of unrest from amongst the crowd, but Joshua was not thrown. ‘Come, good gentleman, a girl such as this – for the night – what will you pay? Surely such gentlemen as you know what to do with a willing wench after dark, or am I mistaken? Would you prefer that I drag out old Sister Agnes to sing to us and strum a little on her harp? Come, who would like to plant a root in his fine furrow?’ As he spoke, Brother Joshua grabbed me around the waist and cupped my sex. I tried to pull away but he held me tight.

‘Don’t fight me, girl,’ he hissed, from behind a fixed smile. The men laughed, and it seemed then and only then did the good burghers catch the monk’s drift.

In an instant I felt all eyes in the room turn on me. I reddened furiously, and Brother Joshua unhanded me and then said, ‘Come along, no need to be coy. Show the gentlemen what is on offer, girl.’

My colour deepened further still, but I could see the thunderous expression on Sister Judith’s face, so gathering my courage I was about to bend and catch hold of the hem of my shift when the hunchback boy leapt onto the stage and, snatching the open collar of the shift, ripped it off me. I screamed, and in shock tried to cover myself, but the men bayed with drunken delight. I can only imagine that Sister Judith ordered him up onto the stage, for I cannot believe he would have done it without encouragement.

‘She’s a little too coy for my tastes,’ called a red-faced hulk of a man from the floor. ‘I prefer my women a little more compliant.’ He chuckled rudely. ‘Warm and willing.’

Brother Joshua smiled. ‘Oh, don’t be fooled, good sir, she is more than willing,’ he said. ‘Turn for us, girl, and let the good men see what it is they are bidding for.’

I turned slowly, feeling the avaricious eyes of every man upon me.

‘Who would like to come up here and inspect the goods?’ Brother Joshua offered, and the fat man was on his feet almost before the monk’s words had done.

‘I sir,’ he said, and clambering onto the dais he began to inspect me. Running his hands over my flesh, touching and mauling my breasts, hands crawling up over my thighs and into those most secret places between my legs. Each touch brought a whoop of delight from the other men in the crowd, and I looked down at the floor, too ashamed to meet the man’s eye.

He grunted, ‘And what do I get if I buy her, sir?’

The monk grinned. ‘Anything she has, good sir. Take her just as you will from now until the cock crows.’ He sniggered evilly, and added, ‘Or your cock gives up the ghost!’

‘And then, if you can think of nothing else, get her to service your wife!’ another yelled from the floor.

There was a great roar of laughter, and although the big man laughed, I noticed there was no warmth in his eyes.

‘Anything?’ he qualified.

‘Indeed, anything.’ Brother Joshua nodded obsequiously. ‘Anything at all. Pay the price and beat your peers and you shall have her.’ Then turning his attention back to the other revellers he called, ‘Now, who among you will start the bidding?’

The big man settled back on a bench. ‘I’ll give you a gold piece for her,’ he announced proudly.

There was a hush amongst the other men; it was a high bid and one I doubted would be topped by any of them for the sake of a little sport.

‘Start lower, Bay,’ complained the man who had heckled him moments earlier, ‘so’s we might all have a little fun – otherwise there is no sport in this. One bid, one call – where’s the enjoyment in that?’

The man Bay’s belligerent countenance did not falter. ‘I don’t want sport, I want pleasure,’ he gruffly pointed out. ‘My own pleasure, not yours. If there are no more bids to be had then I would take my prize.’ He looked towards me and my blood ran cold.

‘Indeed, Master Bay,’ grovelled the monk. ‘Are there any more bids? No man among you can top him?’

There was not a murmur in the hall, and Bay looked triumphant. ‘There we are, then, the matter is settled. Here is my money for your precious poor.’ He dropped a single gold coin onto Joshua’s greedily open palm. ‘Now I would liked her tied, blindfolded and taken up to my chamber.’

The monk lifted an eyebrow. ‘As you will, sir, but what about your lady?’

Bay’s expression hardened further. ‘It is no business of yours, monk. She does as she is told. I paid a fair price for her too, and that bargain was not just for the night.’

Brother Joshua nodded, clearly not wanting to antagonise the brute. ‘As you like,’ he snivelled.

The hunchback boy grabbed me and practically dragged me from the dais, as onto it from the far side stepped the buxom Sister Therese. The men instantly forgot my fate and whooped and cheered and stamped. It seemed that her reputation preceded her.

Back in the shadows, Sister Judith tied my wrists and blindfolded me with a cotton rag, while the boy held me tight. Watching her face in the instant before she covered my eyes, as she glanced around the crowd, I thought then that the vicious crone knew this man, Bay, and had specially arranged for me to go on stage first. The thought made my blood run cold.