The year was 1342. Her name was Madeline. We met in the early days of our youth, when we were both 15 years old. She was my first love.
That was 20 years ago. Since that time she lived a life filled with much scandal and excitement. She never married, but instead had many affairs and eventually became the mistress to one of the members of the royal court.
Over the years we had always stayed in touch... through letters and occasional visits. Then three months ago a scandal swept the court, and charges of heresy were made against several high-ranking members. Of course Madeline was among those charged, which is to be expected as there had been rumors concerning her various activities for many years now. Most of those charged were acquitted; however, someone had to be made a scapegoat. With her questionable reputation (and the sudden demise of her lover two weeks earlier), Madeline was the obvious choice.
She had powerful friends, but no one could save her (some were afraid to plead her case, others tried and failed). Her fate was sealed. I learned through various channels that she would be tried and convicted without chance of reprieve.
While money and influence could not buy her freedom, it did buy me the chance to
see her one last time.
I found myself following a Franciscan monk through dark tunnels... he said I had come "just in time." The interrogation was about to start. He told me my generous donation to the church had made it possible for me to spend one hour with her.
We walked quickly through a maze of dark hallways, and then he stopped at a door... and said, "She is in here."
I quietly opened the door, and shut it silently behind me. The room was dark, lit only by a few candles; a musty odor hung in the air. In the center of the room was a heavy oak platform, and that was where my beautiful Madeline lay prone.
The various times I had seen her over the last few years, she was always a sight to behold. Dressed in the most fashionable clothes, jewels adorning her lovely neck and delicate hands, her beautiful, thick dark hair always swept up into the latest style, every strand perfectly in place.
Now, in this dark chamber, I saw a different woman. She had been stripped of her refinement. She lay prone, spread-eagled on a rough wooden platform, iron shackles binding her wrists and ankles. Her lovely dark hair was loose and spilling over her shoulders. She was covered by a blanket, and I instinctively wondered what she was wearing underneath. Then my attention turned to the table on the far side of the platform... a dozen carefully arranged instruments of torture were laid out... ready to be put to use. The thought of her soft, smooth flesh being torn and brutalized by those cruel metal devices sent a chill up my spine.
She heard a sound in the room, and turned her face towards me suddenly. The look in her eyes was one of utter terror. She stared at me for a few seconds, with that horrible look on her face. Then suddenly her face softened with relief, and her eyes changed from fear to soft affection. I was shocked at her appearance; her face was so pale and fragile- looking. The look of vulnerability reminded me of the sweet young girl I had known so long ago. She was always a strong, proud, and often defiant woman, and now she lay here, frightened and vulnerable, and it struck me that despite her wretched condition she had never looked more beautiful.
She said nothing, but the look on her face conveyed her gratitude. I walked over to her and pulled up a chair. Then I sat beside her.
Her eyes welled up with tears... and I instinctively stroked her face. I couldn't think of what to say.
I was so glad she didn't ask if I had news of a pardon.. Apparently she knew there was no good news in her future and had already accepted that fact. I wondered what psychological horrors she had endured during the last few days, alone in her cell, contemplating the fate that she had been condemned to.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. We had always been very close, the kind of close that doesn't require idle chatter to cover the lack of intimacy.
When she finally spoke, her voice weak and soft. "You were my first love... you know that," she said.
I nodded my head and looked down. For some reason I didn't want her to see me cry, and was afraid if I looked at her now I couldn't help myself.
"All these years we have remained friends. And I have always trusted you completely." She paused for a moment. "Who would have thought things would end like this?" She laughed softly. I looked into her eyes and saw that her strength had not been lost completely, the fiery woman I had known and loved all these years was still here, weak but not gone.
She hesitated, as if she couldn't find the right words, then said: "If I asked you to do one last thing for me, would you?"
I answered without thinking. "You know I would do anything for you."
She thought for a few seconds, choosing her words carefully. "Don't let this happen to me.... don't let them torture me.... don't let me die by fire.... I simply can't bear it."
I said nothing... and she continued. "Please... if you ever loved me, save me from this fate. Release me from this world." She paused, and then finished with, "I'm begging you."
When she said those words, I should have been shocked by what they implied, for I knew immediately what they meant. But for some reason I wasn't shocked. I knew what she wanted me to do, and I was willing to do it. I loved her more at this moment than I could have thought possible. My mind did not even consider the ramifications of my actions, the only thing that mattered was the present. And the request that could not be denied.
I stood up and removed the blanket that was covering her. She was naked underneath it and that surprised me. Her long, elegant limbs were as perfectly proportioned as I remembered. My hatred for the hypocritical bastards that had defiled her grew stronger. I fumbled with the lock and released her left ankle from its bondage... then continued with the right. When her legs were free she bent her knees and worked some of the stiffness from her lower limbs.
I walked around to the head of the table... and undid her wrists. I was grateful to be able to give her these last few moments of freedom. When her wrists were free, she rubbed them slowly and sat up on the table.
She looked deep into my eyes and smiled. Vitality seemed to flood back into her body. She held her arms out to me and I came over and stood in front of her... stroking her hair gently.
She said, "I've always secretly thought we were soul mates. Throughout the years our lives have taken different paths... but my affection for you was always strong. And now, the end has come and you are the one person I can count on to be here for me."
She stroked my face... and pulled me towards her. Her lips grazed mine gently... then she slowly traced my lips with her tongue and I felt the passion from our younger days wash over me in a great flood.
I explored her mouth with my tongue, and she pulled me in closer. Her long, slender legs wrapping around my waist. I could feel her melting in my embrace... this last flame of passion burning hotter than any that had come before it. She was giving in to me with an abandon I had never felt from another woman.
She tilted her head back... and my mouth moved down to her smooth, pale neck. She shivered and murmured softy, "God, I want you so desperately."
Her hands moved to my crotch, and felt the steel hard cock that was ready for her. She started fumbling with my belt, and I took her by the wrists... and gently laid her back on the table.
I always carried a dagger in my belt, though I had never had occasion to use it. Now I realized this virgin blade had met its destiny. I took the nine-inch knife from my belt and laid it on the table. Then began to undo my belt and release my aching cock from its bondage of clothing.
Meanwhile, Madeline glanced at the dagger... and took it in her hands. A strange smile crossed her lips... and she ran her fingers down the razor sharp blade... then tested the sharpness of the point against her palm.
I watched her handle the blade... then put my hands on her knees and spread her legs wider. I began licking the inside of her thighs.... and her body trembled. My mouth moved to her sex... and she began to moan. Her passion mounted quickly. Within a few seconds she was on the verge of an orgasm... and she surprised me when she said, "No... stop!" in a breathless voice. "I want you inside of me".
I stood up... and took the knife from her hands. I drove the tip of the blade into the table over her shoulder... where it would be wait until it found its home.
I began to slide my cock into her hot, wet cunt... and was amazed at how tight she felt. I moved slowly and carefully at first... then as her body welcomed me further... I drove myself deep inside of her.
Her breathing became fast and harsh as I moved back and forth... She moved her mouth close to my ear and whispered, "I want you to do it when I'm at the height of passion... do you understand?"
I whispered back, "Yes. I understand."
She began to moan louder... and I kissed her deeply. At that moment I felt like our souls were becoming one. She was completely lost in passion, but that was a privilege I could not afford. I could not lose sight of my mission.
I felt her passion mounting.. and I was filled with excitement and dread, knowing it meant I would soon lose her. I grabbed the knife and jerked it free. I did not allow myself to think rationally about the act I was about to commit, but only to think of the gift I was giving her.
I placed the tip of the knife a few inches above her naval, and aimed the tip upwards. She felt the cold steel against her stomach and opened her eyes. She looked at me with gratitude, feeling safe in the knowledge that my courage was not giving out and I was willing to fulfill her last request.
She closed her eyes and began to moan louder. I could feel her muscles tighten around my cock and I knew she was on the brink of orgasm. She started to say, "Oh God... I'm almost there... almost there.."
I drove my cock harder into her hot recesses... and when I felt the tremors of ecstasy overtake her body, when I heard her cries of passion reach their pinnacle... I tightened my grip on the knife... and forced it into the smooth, flawless flesh of her stomach. I angled the blade upwards... driving it into her heart. When the blade pierced her heart a gush of blood spewed forth and splashed on the white flesh of her lovely breasts and stomach.
The blade found its mark... and was buried in her soft flesh up to the hilt... and I heard her gasp. She looked at me, and before the light in her eyes dimmed... she mouthed the words "thank you." Her body continued to convulse in the seizures of pleasure... and suddenly, without warning, I felt myself joining in her in the chasm of passion. I drove myself deep inside her... and was gripped by the most intense orgasm of my life.
When the tidal wave subsided, she lay beneath me... her warm body limp. Her
energy spent. We were both drenched in blood, and the site should have horrified me. But
when I looked at her face, her eyes staring distantly off into space, a slight smile still on
her soft, gentle lips... I felt strangely at peace.
I still remember that feeling as if it was yesterday, when in actuality it was three months ago. I write this account from my prison cell. Tomorrow I will taste the blade myself, when the executioner's axe frees me from this dark world. I have no regrets, and am filled with the anticipation of seeing my lovely Madeline once again.