Foie De La ViergeChapter 12
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Louez l'Eternel! I was in turmoil. I was confused. What kind of beast was I riding? They say that the Almighty blesses the faithful and the righteous. They say that the humble fly comes to the spider and the beetles to the lizard and dear Jesus, I'd hoped and never doubted, not even once. All this time, and now ... she'd come to me! That's why Christine had seemed so familiar; the reason that from the very beginning I'd imagined her acquaintance! She drew back from me when I dropped...
At this point, several memories merged and played games. They danced and they fought; and gradually they fused and combined. In the first, I saw a nun who had been brought from the prison by the Marquis and who'd been horribly tortured. She was still dressed, although only of a fashion, for her tattered habit clung to her body by instinct rather than design. Her once beautiful skin was bandaged with strokes emanating from three hubs that were her breasts, her stomach and her thighs. She'd...
My mind was dizzy and confused, and yet the mist and pain were gone. I found myself unexpectedly in the present, or was it the past? With a sense of d'j ... vu, I found that Christine was swaying in front of me, full of nervous expectation. "You're the daughter of the Marquis," I asserted blankly as if this would come as a surprise to her, which, of course, it didn't. For me, it was still an upsetting surprise although the more I looked at her, the more that I saw the likeness. I felt...
She fought back a tear, which she then wiped from the corner of her eye with a beautifully stitched silk handkerchief. "I am under no illusion as to what my fate will be here, monsieur. It will be awful, unthinkable, humiliating; but it is better than what awaits me outside." She blushed, playing with the cuffs on her dress. "I have to confess that in what awaits me you may find me na‹ve. While I have seen what a man does to a woman when he rapes her, that is the extent to my knowledge,...
I sighed. I'd been asking Christine to undress since she'd first entered my cave and so her question was a redundant and irritating one. Of course, I wanted the woman to undress and I wanted to fuck her but that didn't mean that I wanted to eat her. How many times did I have to repeat that I don't like what I do? I hated it. Even so, I foresaw the possibility that I'd eventually be tricked into doing it because there's an inevitability to these things and despite not wanting to eat...
But I wasn't thinking. I was reacting. Dear God, imagine it - after all these years, me, a humble peasant, about to fuck the daughter of the Marquis de Lyons! Raping her! Laying her down, tying her up and poking her holes! What a thought! But why not? Why shouldn't I do it? Shouldn't she pay for the atrocities of her father? Didn't she deserve to be punished? And maybe she'd like it. I took myself aside and calmed myself down. I took deep breaths. I shrugged, and when I came back, I...
Later, much later, I think, I found her by the pool, deep in thought and looking at the water. It seeps from the rocks and trickles across the limestone. It oozes from the walls and drips from the roof. From where it's come and to where it's going I have little idea, but it's everywhere. Many years ago, as a young man, I diverted its flow and created a body of water about ten feet across and nine inches deep. I told Christine to bathe in it, suggesting that a bath would help her to feel...
As the days past and still no food, the gentle curves that had covered Christine's delicate bones flattened and disappeared. Soon, I could count the ribs shaping her chest. Her cheeks hollowed and her eyes became sunken. I viewed these changes with mixed feelings. "Show me your hands," I ordered one day, letting go of her bosoms and lifting her wrists. Her nails were broken and there were hard calluses upon each of her fingers. "Excellent," I muttered loudly, turning her hands so as to...
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