_The Last Scène and Denouement._
They kept me in the same chamber, where I had been so outraged, the
two nuns nursing,—bathing my bruises, and using soothing injections to
allay the inflammations of my privates, till, on the third day, they
said I was so far recovered that my Confessors might finish the
prescribed penance, adding, with a malicious smile, “we saw everything
last time, and so we shall now, through our peepholes; how delicious
the sight was last time, and we had such frigging and dildoe fucks
after it was all over.”
Having said this, they speedily disappeared and I was left to await my
fate in trembling anxiety; I was hot and cold by turns, as the
recollection of all the humiliating and painful incidents of the other
day came back so vividly to my mind, and in imagination I seemed to
suffer all my tortures over again.
This did not last long, although you may be sure it seemed long enough
to me in my state of apprehension. A key was turned in the lock, and
the door creaked on its hinges; my persecuting confessors again stood
before me in reality, with quite a sardonic expression of anticipated
pleasure on their faces; no trace of pity could I find on either
visage, nothing but gloating sensuality seemed to animate the ardent
looks with which they regarded me for some moments.
The hateful Francisco was the first to address me, a smile of terrible
meaning playing round his mouth, showing his pearly white teeth to
such perfection that I was again strongly reminded of my husband.
“Lady Ellington, I hope, has had good time for reflection upon the
heinousness of her sins, particularly those in contravention of her
marriage vows; wantonness is as nothing compared to that. What has the
penitent Lucille to say? Has her chastisement made her feel the pangs
of real remorse?” he said, whisking a scourge before my face.
I was too frightened to speak; face, neck and bosom, I could feel,
were in a burning heat, whilst my eyes could not meet his, for
something more than shame instinctively told me what I might have to
suffer at his hands.
“No sign of repentance here, Father Anthony; she must be stripped
naked at once. Do you hear, Lucille? Strip—strip—strip at once, or it
will be much the worse for you!” he said with rough ferocity.
Both priests helped me to undress, and in their impetuous haste almost
tore the clothes off my back, at the same time taking all sorts of
disgusting liberties, and keeping me in a continued state of
confusion, at last when nothing was left but my chemise to remove,
they suddenly tied the rope round my left ancle, and in an instant I
found myself suspended head downwards, with the right leg kicking in
the air, and screaming piteously for mercy.
“Secure her wrists to the rings in the floor,” said Francisco, “and
then help me to whip the seat of lust till she is a little more
repentant.”
The elder priest speedily effected this, and then both of them with
scourges commenced to whip me most mercilessly, aiming their
relentless cuts between my legs so as to cut the lips of my cunt and
round my bottom-hole at every blow; now and then the cruel thongs
would wind round the upper part of my thighs, or on to my mount; my
cries were heartrending, as each blow seemed to re-open all my old
cuts and bruises. “Ah! Ah—r—r—re! Oh! Oh!! will you never have pity,
and believe me sorry for my faults?” I screamed or moaned, and gasped
out the words in intense agony.
“So you begin to repent a little under the lash, do you, Lucille, are
you really sorry for having wronged Lord Ellington, is it your mind or
your cunt that is most filled with remorse? How you seem to writhe,
and how prettily we are making it look for you, the trickling blood is
delightful to see as it flows in drops and rills over your back and
belly!” His questions were spoken slowly as he seemed to enjoy the
pleasure of my intense suffering, and two or three of his cuts were
over the tender surface of my belly or right across the navel.
“Scream away, you sensual woman, why don’t you implore the Holy Virgin
to have pity and forgive you, we are only carrying out her commands,
are we not Father Francisco?” hissed out old Anthony, as he continued
to scourge my back and sides, and every now and then aimed a fearful
blow right down my lacerated cunny. Again they would stop for a
little, and ask me jeeringly, “about my feeling of remorse, would I
indulge in such obscenity with my husband again, or keep from adultery
in future?”
I was almost too far gone to do more than moan, and Father Anthony
suggested that I ought to be well lashed over my neck, shoulders, and
bosom, to make me speak out, but the other seeing how exhausted I
really was, restrained his mad fury, and then after waiting a little
one of them would give me a terrible cut, and ask the other to see the
beautiful effects of it as I swayed about in agony; this was done
again and again, till after a time the scourges were thrown aside, and
the rope being lowered I was allowed to lay on the floor for a little
while, and some cordial was again administered to refresh me, my
tormentors sitting down and frigging themselves openly before my face,
till in the act of spending they would stand over me so that I might
be thoroughly humiliated by having all their spendings drop on my
face, neck, or head, as I was still secured to the floor by my wrists.
Presently, at a sign from Francisco, his companion hoisted me up by
the ancle again, and did it so tightly that I was frightfully
stretched by my arms and leg; which were drawn as painfully tight as
he could make it, the fastenings cutting into the flesh so that I bear
the marks to this very day, I could see that Francisco was again
preparing his godemiche with oil, but he did not put any upon my
person.
Horrified at the sight, I begged and implored them in the most piteous
manner not to degrade me again with that disgusting instrument,
promising to pay the Church any amount for absolution rather than
endure it again.
“Too late, too late, your repentance is not sincere, besides, the
other day we saw with our eyes how your lascivious nature responded to
the thrusts of this thing in your cunt, now I am going to degrade
your bottom-hole by inserting it there, however painful the operation
may prove,” saying which he seized, and held my left leg under his
arm, and standing close to my body at once proceeded to carry out his
infernal idea of ravishing my anus. Lacerated, bleeding, and sore as
my bottom was at the least touch, and regardless of my piercing
shrieks, he forced the oily head of the india rubber thing quite into
my tightly contracted bum-hole, the pain was intense, as it seemed to
rend the lining tissue of the anal canal in its passage, and the
bristles round its root added, if possible, still more to the
intensity of my suffering.
I believe, that giving one long shriek of agony, I lost consciousness
for a time, but only to awake and find them laughing and jeering at my
sufferings, as the one worked his dildoe in my bottom, whilst the
other had thrust two or three fingers up my blood-stained and wounded
cunt. It is quite indescribable what I felt at this outrage, the
accumulation of shame, agony and horror so overpowered my exhausted
nature, that I went off again into such a death-like swoon, that they
really feared I was dead, and made haste to let me down as well as
apply strong restoratives.
My hands were still retained in the rings on the floor, and the
godemiche was left sticking in my bottom, the spasmodic contractions
of the sphincter muscle holding it as in a vice, whilst the pulsations
of the violated passage behind were still awfully painful. All this
was apparent to me as I slowly came to myself once more, and could see
the excited looks of my cruel Confessors, who proceeded to sprinkle me
with cold water, and use a large sponge for the purpose of both
refreshing me and allowing them to gloat over the extent of my hurts.
This lasted a little while, then I was made to get up on my hands and
knees, facing Francisco, who then opened his frock, so as to show me
the excited state of his prick, at the same time, with a malicious
look of fiendish joy, he asked me, “If I should not like to suck such
a delightful sweetmeat?” Then seeing my look of intense disgust, he
burst into a rage, saying, “Oh! So you mean to insult me as you did
the Lady Superior of the Ursulines, do you, Lucille? You may think I
am disgusting and nasty, or I smell strong as she did, and I may tell
you, to make you relish it still more, that scarcely an hour ago it
was up the strong smelling cunt of that very same lady, and I was
careful not to wash, so that you might have the full benefit of the
delicious aroma of her spendings.”
Speechless with disgust, and helpless in every way, it was useless for
me to appeal for mercy or consideration from two such heartless
beings; the only thing I could do was to close my eyes to the awful
sight.
But only for a moment, a tremendous whack from Father Anthony, who had
taken up the scourge, made me shriek out again, “Ah! Ah! Oh! Will you
never finish me off, and kill me in mercy?” The only answer I had was
a quick repetition of the blow, whilst the repulsive Francisco’s
right hand, clutching my hair, pulled my head up, and drew it back so
painfully, that I gasped for breath. This was exactly what he wanted,
and, in a moment, his prick was forced into my mouth. The sensation
was so repulsive, horrible, and choking all at once, that I had not
the presence of mind to bite, or he would have repented the act ever
after. Old Anthony was cutting my back, bottom, thighs, and loins,
even the calves of my legs not escaping his frenzied scourging. Blood
was streaming over my flesh, and dripping to the floor in little
pools, and I felt I was really dying at last. Just then the excited
Francisco shot a deluge of hot sperm into my mouth and throat; I was
choked, and remember no more, except, that on recovering
consciousness, the supposed Confessor, Francisco, was dressed as a
gentleman, and I immediately recognised him as my husband, as, at the
same instant, he exclaimed, “Woman, my revenge is complete. You won’t
deceive me again. How I have revelled in degrading, humiliating, and
torturing my adulterous wife. You’ll never see me more. This has been
my way of divorcing myself from a faithless bitch.”
He was gone before I could find words to reply, but my sense of pain
was instantly drowned in a deep desire for vengeance for this outrage,
and its impulse so strengthened me, that I was soon well enough to
travel.
My lover, Lord Dunwich, received me with open arms, and declared he
would shoot or be shot by the Earl ere forty-eight hours had elapsed;
at once despatching a friend with his cartel to arrange a meeting for
the next morning in Hyde Park at the dawn of day.
We spent the night together at his hotel, although scarcely fourteen
days since I was so fearfully outraged, how we fucked all night, and
swam in sensual pleasures for hours, I would deny him nothing, was he
not my champion, who was going to risk his life in the morning to
avenge my fearful wrongs, and to make him still more earnest in his
desire for vengeance, I stripped naked, let him examine every part,
where the marks of the bruises and lacerations were still visible; my
cunt he sucked, kissed and fucked till I was beside myself with
excitement, and he was also ready for anything, then my poor bum-hole
attracted his attention, he kissed and put his tongue into it, till I
was eager to have him there, and begged he would put his prick in
gently at first for fear of hurting me too much; this was a heavenly
finish to our night of love; we swam in delight, never before or since
have I tasted voluptuous joy to equal that _enculade_.
Next morning dressed as a young gentleman with a false moustache, I
went as one of his seconds to the fatal place of meeting, and had the
satisfaction of seeing my wrongs avenged by a ball through the heart
of my hated husband. We then went abroad for a while, but my dear
lover lost his life by drowning in the Rhine, since which I have
consoled myself as you know by all sorts of erotic fancies,
especially flagellation, and now dear Rosa at the early age of
twenty-five I find myself fast fading away.
FINIS.
Transcriber’s Note
Perhaps as a corollary of the private printing, the typesetting of the
original book was of indifferent quality. Numerous typographical
errors have been corrected; period spelling has been retained.
Inconsistent hyphenation (bed-post/bed post, tight-fitting/tight
fitting) has been left as printed in the original.