Chapter Twenty-One
The day of the fiesta was one of miserable waiting for Nathalie. All through the day she waited in her room until, just before dark, she could bear it no longer. Slipping quietly out the door, she scampered down the stairway and hurried toward Astrid and Hedda's room.
The courtyard was in bedlam. One peek through the great double door stopped her. Did she dare to go on? The throng milling about seemed to have gone completely mad. The dogs had been turned loose and were yapping as they chased in and out of the clusters of festive workers. Most of the people were gaily decked out in costumes that made Nathalie shudder with disgust.
There was a devil in snug black tights and sweater. Only his face, hands, and genitals were exposed. The heavy-hung balls jounced about as he walked and his cock was fully erect. A woman near by (Nathalie surmised it must be his paramour) wore the same black outfit with huge tits protruding from holes cut in the sweater and the entire crotch and buttocks section had been carefully snipped away. Her pink cheeks rolled merrily as she walked away from Nathalie's view.
All of the costumes were erotically sexual. Several men had papier-mâché cocks strapped to their groins that were fully four feet high. One woman had carefully stuffed gingham tits that hung nearly to the ground and a slit with real fur sewn to it that arched out nearly a foot from her body in exaggerated lewdness. Playfully, the men with the papier-mâché cocks tried to ram her grotesque meat and all laughed hysterically at the ludicrous game.
Only one man that Nathalie saw was completely naked, the weather being quite inclement. When he happened to turn in her direction, she could not force herself to look away for he had a huge red ribbon carefully tied to his swollen prick.
He has turned them all into animals, she thought. Her belly churned with revulsion.
Had the people only dressed erotically, Nathalie probably could have ignored them. Such, however, was not the case, for their actions were totally animal. The very first cluster of people she pushed through laughed at her shock when she nearly tripped over an up-ended woman lying on the ground. A man was pouring wine into her cunt as another vowed loudly that he would drink every last drop. Flushed with disgust and loathing, she turned and ran blindly through the writhing, moaning crowd.
She came onto a group of couples playing blind-man's buff, each man with a woman riding upon his shoulders. The girls balanced precariously around the front of each man, directing him as he slurped and licked at her meat. As Nathalie rushed through, they jostled her first one way and then another until she was certain they would keep her trapped in their midst forever.
Oh God! thought Nathalie, I cannot be real. None of this can be real!
The dogs were humping frantically with every step they took, their scarlet pricks stabbing at the air. Then a woman near the kitchen door pulled aside her skirts and, standing with legs akimbo, called them to come to her. There were a dozen fighting over her within seconds.
"More! More!" she heard a woman cry and the sound of her voice was so tortured, Nathalie turned to look.
"Oh!" she cried out loud as she saw a beautiful young girl, lashed between two upright posts in a spread-eagle position.
Several men with long, lethal looking whips in their hands were lashing furiously out at her. Crisscrosses of red blisters from the cruel whips marked almost every inch of her body, yet she arched out her mound as she pleaded with them to inflict more of their cruel punishment.
"More! More!" she wailed again and again until Nathalie became violently nauseated, spewing out her vomit as she leaned weakly against the side of the building.
There were women and women, men and men, adults and children. Everywhere she turned, the people had gone mad. One young man leaned lazily against the wall several yards away and she wondered if he, too, could not bear the lewd, bestially demented activities. As her eyes focused upon him, she saw that he was in his own private fog of lust for his hand slowly milked his own cock as he felt his joys.
Nathalie's head rolled about, pressing heavily against the cool stone masonry of the building. They are all mad, she told herself, and it is a madness brought on by the lust of one man and one woman. Roald was right. It must end-all of it!
She sucked in the cool night air as deeply as she could, calming the queasiness of her churning stomach.
I should have stayed in my room, she thought miserably. If I can only get to Astrid and Hedda's room, I shall not step foot from there until it is time to begin my task.
"Well!" boomed a voice from behind. "What do we have here?"
She whirled about and found herself staring at Edvard, the kennel keeper. Behind him stood Sven.
"If it is not the frigid little prude!" he chortled, "We could fix that up, couldn't we, Sven?"
"Ja!" his friend answered eagerly. "All she needs is a man."
"Keep away from me!" she hissed as she backed slowly away from them.
"Ah, now," Sven cooed, "that is not spirit. It is fiesta. Everyone fucks at fiesta."
"Keep your hands off of me!"
Her voice was filled with hate, her eyes narrowed as she crouched to protect herself. Had she but a knife or a pistol in her hands there is no doubt that she would have used it as lethally as possible. Her every thought was for survival and self-protection. The time for escape was near. She could not bear the idea of being taken-debased again with freedom so near.
Then the two men lunged and she was trapped against the cold, stone wall. She flailed the air furiously, screaming at the top of her lungs, but no one paid the slightest heed.
Like a hideous nightmare, they cavorted about her, yelling their wild yells and singing lusty chants. The dogs yapped louder, and the woman screaming "More! More! More!" drowned out her agonized cries for assistance.
"This one could use a little of that whip!" Sven muttered as he gripped her tightly by the waist. "She is sure putting up a fuckus!"
"Then let us get her over there before the girl gets her joy and they cut her down," Edvard suggested.
Together, they wrestled her to the two upright timbers to await the end of the sadistic punishment.
"Ohhhhhhhhh! Goooooooooooo!" screamed the woman as the thongs burned into her flesh.
"Let me go!" screeched Nathalie, twisting her head away from the blood-spattered scene.
"This cold little bitch don't like the whip, Sven," Edvard chortled.
"She is just pulling your leg, Edvard," Sven answered. "Why, she is hot to feel a bit of that burning lash herself."
"Nooooooooo!" moaned Nathalie and her face contorted with apprehension at the mere thought of having to undergo such a torture.
"Somehow, that does not seem right to me," Edvard said thoughtfully. "She is sort of the martyr type anyway, don't you think?"
"What are you talking about?" Sven demanded.
"Well, to beat her-" Edvard held up his hands, "now, if we were to eat her and make her like it in front of everyone-ah, my friend, there would be an accomplishment."
Nathalie shuddered at the thought. Her jaw clamped tightly together and she began steeling herself for the possibility of such an ordeal.
"Eyiiiiiiiii!" the woman strapped to the posts screamed and Nathalie stared up at her in absolute horror.
Her body had gone rigid, her groin arched out, her legs twisted to bring the inner flesh forward. Slowly, she began to writhe in a hypnotizing pattern of release, moaning on and on as the waves of passion crashed over her. Nathalie had never before looked into the face of another being at such a time. Her gaping mouth, her arched neck and closed eyes were as filled with the sweet agony of her release as a Christian enduring the last torture and feeling the soothing salve of the Lord's blessing descend upon him.
When, at last, her frame went limp, it was a sudden jolting kind of release and though her feet were placed flat on the cobblestones, she hung by her wrists, too exhausted to carry her own weight.
"Oh, fucking mother," Nathalie heard her groan, and she bowed her head and could look up at her no more.
How low do they go? she wondered. Obviously all the way but what is the end result? Is there anything lower? My God, what could it be?
The two men who had been whipping the girl now leaped forward to untie her bonds. As she slumped into their arms, they slid down onto the cobblestones with her and one immediately jumped between her legs and pressed his throbbing cock into her cove.
"Hey!" yelled Sven. "We want to use the poles. Move over a bit, will you?"
The second man had already straddled the girl's chest and his whip was still in his hand. With a quick snap of his wrist he sent the tip of the whip cutting through the air at Sven.
"You'll bloody well wait until we get ready to move!" he hissed and Sven jumped back just as the tip slashed across his cheek. He grabbed his cheek as the blood began to pour from the wound.
With one lunge, the infuriated Swede dove on his oppressor, knocking him away from the girl's body.
"Cock! Give me that cock!" the woman screamed. "Please!"
Edvard did not hesitate. One eager cock-sucker was worth a dozen frigid prudes. Grabbing his prick, he frictioned it furiously as he stepped over her body and lowered himself down onto her tits.
It had all happened so fast that Nathalie hesitated a moment, not truly realizing that she was free. Then, as relief flooded over her, she did not wait to see any more. She turned on her heel and ran as swiftly as her feet would carry her.
Down through the kitchen and cleaning rooms she flew and then through the dimly lit corridors as the panic welled up about her. Were they following? She had no notion nor did she intend to turn and find out.
"Astrid! Hedda!" she screamed as she ran though she was still some distance from their room. Heads popped out of the hallway doors as she scurried along. She was so distraught that she pounded on the wrong door for several seconds until Hedda's head popped out of another door down the hall.
"Nathalie, for God's sake!" she snapped and when Nathalie saw her, she collapsed completely.
Rushing into her arms she sobbed out her tortured tale of woe.
"It was awful!" she concluded.
"What? They didn't do a thing to you, did they?" Hedda asked impatiently.
"Well, no," Nathalie sobbed and then realized that it was true.
Sitting down on Hedda's cot, she stared up at her friend.
"How can I explain?" she asked. "The whip. It left such cruel, hideous slashes across that girl's body and yet she begged for more. It-it was-insane," she said helplessly. There simply seemed no way to make Hedda understand the terror she had felt as she looked up into those passion filled eyes.
"We must get away from this place-destroy it completely-and the sooner, the better," she whispered in an awed tone.
"You should not have come here alone," Astrid said sternly as she entered the room. "You do not belong in the courtyard tonight."
"Do not scold her, Astrid," Hedda pleaded. "Lie down and rest a few moments, Nathalie. You will have to go back to your room before we can begin our escape. It is better for you to rest before you attempt it."
Nathalie did not argue. The thought of retracing her steps filled her with dread but there was no other way to reach the library and that was the one job Roald had asked of her.
"Not a word of this to Roald," she cautioned. "I can do my job. Just let me rest a moment,"
"Good girl," her friends said softly.
Nathalie lay tensely on the cot staring up at the rough pole rafters. They were a dramatic contrast to the ornately plastered ceiling of her own room. There was no fireplace to help warm the bones of the hired hands. The stone walls were unpainted and weeping with moisture. It was a wonder the help did not all die of consumption, she thought, nor was it hard to understand why so many preferred to share their bed rather than sleep alone even on these narrow cots. Just as she shivered convulsively, Hedda pulled a quilt up about her and tucked her in.
"Thank you," she said. "Are you not chilled too?"
"We are used to it," Hedda told her.
Hedda turned the lamp down low and left her side. All ready, Nathalie felt calmer than she had all day. She wondered how long it would be before Roald came for them. She should have stayed in her room. Perhaps he was tapping on ber door this very minute.
She allowed her mind to drift for a time, bringing it back sharply whenever it threatened onto an unpleasant subject. She was not at all sleepy. Slowly, her hearing began to focus on Astrid and Hedda who were sitting on the other side of the room.
"I hate to miss all the fun," Hedda was complaining. "Could we not join the festivities for an hour or two while we wait?"
"Do not let Roald hear you say such a thing," Astrid laughed softly.
"Poo! I dare say he is not sitting about!"
"That is his business, dear heart," Astrid reminded her.
"It was nearly dark when I came down here, Astrid," Nathalie broke in. "Can't we get on with it?"
Astrid shook her head. "They are not drunk enough yet. Roald will tell us when."
"Humph!" Hedda grumbled. "I will wager he is screwing around with the big redheaded wench that chases around after him while he makes us sit here twiddling our thumbs."
"Roald would not do such a thing!" Nathalie objected, sitting up with a start.
Astrid and Hedda glanced at her and Hedda burst out laughing.
"I hate to disillusion you, dear child," she said, "but Roald is a man, in case you had not noticed. He has the appetites of a man, albeit a decent one. Only last night there was an awful lot of panting and giggling going on in his room."
"Well," snapped Nathalie, "it certainly was not me!"
Her cheeks were on fire.
"Of that I am certain!" Astrid snapped. "Hedda, you should not tell Nathalie such things. What Roald does is none of your concern or mine."
"But he seemed so shocked by-" Nathalie hesitated.
"Oh, blast it, Nathalie!" Astrid exploded as she rolled her eyes back in utter frustration. "When a man screws around with a woman who is willing, it is not quite the same as sicking a dog onto a child. For heaven's sake, woman, grow up! It may disgust you, personally, but I tell you that passion is here to stay, thank God!"
"Why do you chide me so, Astrid?" Nathalie demanded. "When there is need, of course it is not wrong. I did not feel that it is wrong with either of you. We had a job to do and we did it. Just as married people must produce children, it is the method and the reason.. . "
"Oh shit!"
"Oh shit!" Hedda snapped. "You take all the pleasure out of it and admit it or not, there is pleasure!"
"All right!" Astrid said, raising her hands for silence. "That is enough. We have much to do this night, and it will not do to sit and argue amongst ourselves."
Nathalie took both of the girls' hands in hers. "I realize that I exasperate you terribly some times, but I do love you both dearly. Please be careful this night. I could not bear to reach safety if either one of you were not there with me."
"Oh, Nathalie," Hedda whispered tearfully, "we are all on edge. I am sorry, dear. Let us think of it no more. Soon we will be on our way to America and the whole world will be open to us."
"This is better," Astrid said, hugging them both. "It is time, too, for Nathalie really must return to her room. Would you feel safer if we went with you?"
"No," she lied. "You must be here when Roald comes just as I must get myself back to my room, I shall be very careful and I shall fly as fast as a deer through the courtyard. They will see nothing but a streak of skirts, I promise you."
She dreaded walking out of that door. Never had she felt the need of protection as she did this night. Still, how could she do her part if she did not show courage?
"Here," she offered. "Let me carry your bedrolls up with me. You will have quite enough to carry and you may be somewhat in a hurry."
At first Astrid agreed, but as Nathalie waddled unnaturally under the burden she thought better of it and refused.
"We will be three and can protect ourselves better. You need all of the speed you can muster if you are to run like a deer."
They snickered bravely as Nathalie handed back their bundles.
"I am off then, my pets," she said gaily. "See you soon."
"Good luck," they whispered.