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I spent
the entire time during the voyage from the
mainland to the Tremiti Islands totally
enthralled by the emerald green and blue
waters of the Adriatic Sea and the looming
pristine rocks and vegetations of the
island of S. Nicola. My guide for the tour
I had booked waved enthusiastically,
pointing to the ruins of fortifications
and towers that once housed an order of
Benedictine monks who in days gone by had
controlled the entire area.
"There
it is," he said.
I was
smiling so much my face ached.
"It's
so... so beautiful!" I cried, trying to
make myself heard over the flapping noises
of the billowing sails on masts
above.
"Sì, è molto
bello effettivamente!"
Even
though I had barely any knowledge at all
of Italian I knew he was agreeing with me.
His sparkling eyes, half hidden behind his
glasses, lingered on me for a moment after
he spoke. I blushed suddenly, realizing he
was teasing me - telling me
I
was beautiful. "You
Italians!" I laughed to myself. "A touch
of Romeo in every one of you!"
I had
been in Italy for just under three weeks,
soaking in all the history and beauty of
cities in the north. Florence had been my
favorite up until this time; Rome, with
it's pollution, decaying dirtiness and
bustling crowds the least favorite. But
this was a world away from all of that. A
world away from everything!
"Not
many people come here?" I asked my guide,
fascinated that a place so beautiful would
not be swarming with tourists.
"No, not
many," he said.
I
clenched my fingers around the rails of
the deck, closed my eyes, and breathed in
deeply the fresh, salty smell of the sea.
It was like being in paradise.
"Only
the sailors know about this place," he
continued.
I opened
my eyes, nodded back to him and then
resumed my little silent, closed-eyed
reverie. The thought that the great author
from antiquity, Homer, had sailed these
waters during his epic voyages, filled me
with wonderment. Here I was, all these
years later, literally following in his
footsteps. It was a dream come true for a
history lover like me.
**************
The road
leading up to the Abbey and ruins snaked
tightly against the sides of sheer cliffs.
My heart remained firmly wedged in my
throat for the entire journey; my feet
instinctively jabbing out at imaginary
brakes at every curve that my guide
negotiated at speeds well in excess of
what I would have called safe. He seemed
oblivious to my terror and casually spoke
about all manner of things as we sped
along.
"Keep
your eyes on the road, Roberto!" I almost
screamed when his eyes lingered on me for
too long after saying something. He
laughed, glancing only as long as
necessary to easily navigate a curve; as
easily as if the car was guided by the
hand of God Himself.
The
final ascent up a long, straight and very
steep section, suddenly deposited the car
out onto a flat bluff. The view past the
ancient ruins was spectacular as were the
ruins themselves. Roberto eased off the
accelerator and allowed the car to roll
the last fifty or so yards, bringing us to
a stop right next to the only building
standing intact.
"Il
abbey dei Insulae Diomedae," Roberto said,
announcing our arrival and referring to
the Abbey by its original name, Insulae
Diomedae, after the Homeric hero who is
said to have been buried somewhere on the
island of S. Nicola.
"The
abbey of Insulae Diomedae," I repeated
breathlessly; reverently.
**************
My
guide, Roberto, spent close to an hour
showing me around the ruins outside before
finally escorting me into the vestibule of
the abbey. It felt weird to be in such a
beautiful, ancient place; to be the only
person besides Roberto, in such a
beautiful, ancient place.
Our
footsteps echoed off the old stone walls
inside as we made out way inside the
building. My eyes were drawn to all the
Catholic iconography; the paint-flaking
images around the walls on three sides of
the Processions of the Cross; the statue
of the Virgin Mary with the Christ child
in her arms poised vigilantly off to one
side at the front near a large, marble
altar. Breathtaking!
"There
is one place here not many tourists ever
get to see," Roberto said, breaking the
spell I was under.
"There
is?"
"Yes,"
he continued. "It's a secret place right
here beneath our feet!"
I tried
not to laugh at his fractured English and
the theatrical flourishes of his
ever-gesturing hands.
"It
is?"
"Sì. Follow me,
please."
My
curiosity had been piqued but there was no
time to ask questions. Roberto was already
walking briskly ahead towards the altar at
the front of the aisle. I tried not to run
as I followed; my low heeled court shoes
clip-clopping loudly on the stone floor as
I trotted behind.
"Here,"
Roberto said, pointing down to the space
beneath the two solid granite pedestals
supporting the marble top of the
altar.
"Here...what?" I asked,
looking down at the floor then back at
Roberto.
"Here!"
he said, his voice now raised with
excitement as he suddenly dropped to his
knees and pulled back a threadbare carpet
to reveal a trap door.
"What is
it? Where does it lead to?"
I was
reluctant to follow but Roberto had
already disappeared up to his waist down
through the floor beneath the altar.
"Follow!" He barked the order pleasantly
but there was a distinct urgency to his
tone.
There
was a moment where I felt slightly guilty
as if somebody might suddenly walk into
the abbey and accuse me of trespassing.
The silvery mop of Roberto's head
disappeared down the darkened hole; his
voice now sounding more distant as he
vanished from sight, imploring me to
hurry.
I
crawled beneath the altar and positioned
myself feet first down the narrow opening
in the floor. I kicked around in the air
and found a step but still shuffled my
foot to make certain I had a secure
foothold before making my descent. A light
below suddenly shone up out of the
darkness and I realized Roberto would have
a clear view right up my skirt. Assuming
he was looking in that direction. "What
was I saying? Of course he was looking!" I
tried to laugh at the embarrassing
thought.
Roberto's hands glided up
the sides of my legs as I stepped down the
final couple of steps. At one level I felt
he was being gentlemanly in making sure I
didn't slip and fall but at another deeper
level, I sensed he was enjoying the
opportunity to touch me. I shivered,
trying to convince myself of his
intentions were honorable, but said
nothing of the uneasy way his touching
made me feel. Once my feet were firmly
planted on the basement floor, I patted
down my skirt, politely brushing his hands
away and pretending I wasn't noticing he
wanted them to remain on my hips. I
detected a small laugh from him and
pretended not to notice this as
well.
"Come,"
Roberto said. He turned on his heel and
marched off down the long, narrow corridor
ahead.
I
followed, ducking my head as we passed
under each vaulted section until we
arrived at a large, solid oak door at the
end of the corridor.
"What's
in there?" I didn't want to ask but I was
starting to feel very suspicious of my
amorous guide.
"You'll
see!" Roberto said, twisting a large, iron
ring on the door. The silence of the
corridor was immediately shattered by the
clunking, metallic sounds of bolts
unlocking behind the door. I watched
nervously as Roberto leaned his shoulder
into the heavy door and, using all his
body weight, pushed it open.
**************
"What is
this place?" I eventually asked once I
realized what was inside the cavernous
chamber beneath the abbey.
Roberto
was still standing next to the door,
holding it open while I nervously stepped
past him into the room.
"What?
You've never seen a dungeon before?"
Roberto laughed heartily; a laugh full of
genuine humor. It relaxed me a little and
I was forced to laugh with him.
"Noooooo!" I said,
realizing I must have sounded entirely
naive to him.
"Noooooo?" Roberto asked.
The tone of his voice was filled with
playful mock astonishment.
"No," I
said, not bothering to mention I had, but
only in books back home in the library
where I worked.
The
dungeon was certainly creepy but there was
something strangely fascinating about it
at the same time. I slowly drifted away
from Roberto and began making closer
inspections of all the gothic furnishings;
cages built into the vaulted alcoves
around the walls; rusted, heavy link
chains and shackles dangling from above; a
large, wooden rack off to one side; and a
large, solid wood pillory set on a raised
platform in the center of the room.
"It
gives me the creeps!" I said, turning back
to Roberto.
"It's
okay, " he said, not reassuring me in the
least when he added "You'll be safe with
me!"
"This is
a real dungeon?" I asked. It was a dumb
question given the fact it clearly was a
real dungeon that undoubtedly dated back
to the times of the Inquisition.
"Sì, it's real. You
want to try some things?"
I shot a
look of horror directly back at Roberto
when he asked the question. "No!"
"It's
okay," he said again, repeating what was
now becoming a mantra with him - that I
had nothing to fear. "I can take your
photo in the stocks. Here, you get up
there..."
"Roberto!" I squealed,
twisting free from the grip he suddenly
had on my elbow as he ushered me up the
steps of the wooden platform.
I could
feel my face, my ears and neck especially,
starting to burn hotly with embarrassment.
It was a strange feeling borne of the
realization that I actually had a peculiar
urge to let him lock me in the pillory. "I
can do it myself," I finally said after
regaining some of my composure.
The
wooden stairs creaked underfoot as I
climbed unassisted up onto the platform. I
neatly placed my handbag on the floor next
to the pillory and then turned back to
Roberto. "You're sure it's safe?" I asked.
I was more concerned about Roberto's
integrity than the structural soundness of
the wooden contraption in front of
me.
"Sì! Yes! Yes, yes,
yes!" Roberto said emphatically as if
saying it in English would make it any
clearer for me.
I
watched as he wrestled with the heavy,
upper wooden cross beam, grunting softly
as he heaved it high enough for me to
position my neck and wrists into the
three, crescent shaped holes of the lower
beam. The wood was smooth against my skin,
worn by years of use, reminding me there
must have been thousands of poor souls in
the past who had been locked into the
position I was about to be locked in. The
wood felt cold and hard; unyielding once
Roberto lowered the upper beam down to
secure me in place.
"I don't
like this," I said, suddenly feeling a
rush of panic. "There's a camera in my
handbag. Please be quick!"
"Just
relax," Roberto was saying, making no
effort to hurry with the camera he
retrieved from my handbag. "Smile for the
little birdy!"
He said
it in such a silly, childish sing-song
voice I couldn't help but laugh. The flash
exploded in a glare of white light,
temporarily blinding me.
I
silently endured as he took another two or
three photos, moving around to capture the
sight of me from every angle. My stomach
knotted with nervous apprehension when he
disappeared behind me for a second time.
"Roberto?"
He
didn't say anything in reply.
"Roberto!!! What are you
doing?"
Again he
didn't reply but I knew what he was about
to do the instant I felt his fingers
beginning to pick at the buttons of my
dress. There was only two of them, one
over each shoulder blade, to secure the
two straps that held my dress on.
"Roberto!!!" I squealed
again, this time more urgently as I felt
the straps suddenly loosen. Dancing on the
spot trying to escape merely hastened the
fall of my dress to my ankles. I was still
protesting loudly as the camera flashed a
number of times more behind me.
"I'll
scream!" I tried vainly to threaten
him.
"Okay,
you can scream," Roberto laughed.
The
futility of screaming or trying to call
for help became immediately clear.
"Please
Roberto, don't do that. It's very
embarrassing!" I softened my tone, trying
to reason with him as he inched my cotton
briefs down off my hips.
The
sensations of being slowly bared made me
twist and struggle against the immovable
weight of the pillory. "Please don't!" I
started to beg as I felt my bottom
becoming fully exposed.
"Bello!
Avete una parte posteriore molto
bella!"
I could
tell what Roberto was saying from the
lecherous tone of his voice. "That's
enough, Roberto. I mean it!"
"Che
è una buona ragazza. Ballo per me.
Mostrimi come wiggle!"
The
flash of the camera behind continued,
capturing the sight of my briefs now being
dragged down by gravity as I hopped and
struggled to escape.
"You
have nice boobies!"
"Roberto! I won't tell you
again!" I tried to sound like I was in a
position to tell him what to do. It
clearly had no effect on him and I was
forced to suffer the indignity of having
him grope my breasts through my bra.
"Please Roberto. You've had your fun. Let
me go now."
I was by
now becoming extremely worried. The heat
of his body enveloped me, pressing down on
my back as he embraced me from behind. The
size of the bulge in the front of his
trousers was unmistakable against the
backs of my thighs as he squeezed against
me. I desperately wanted to flee, but I
was trapped. I instinctively clamped my
thighs together and tried not to think of
what he could do to me.
"Oooh!
Your nipples!"
"Please
stop, Roberto. I really mean it this
time!" I was begging now.
"Your
nipples are so ... so stiff!"
I felt a
sudden, crushing feeling of guilt knowing
that he was right and that his mentioning
of it only added to the tingle they were
being aroused by.
"No
they're not!" I mumbled, knowing it was a
lie.
"They're
not?"
Roberto
was mocking me again. I squirmed and tried
to shake free from the firm grip his
fingers had on my swollen, sensitive
nipples.
"No." I
blushed.
"I think
they are. Let me see..."
"Please,
no, Roberto!"
It was
too late. His fingers had already
unhitched the clasp of my bra and it
dropped silently to the floor in front of
my feet. I cursed myself for having worn
the strapless garment while my whole body
broke out in a rash of goosebumps. But for
my shoes, I was completely nude, and
Roberto continued to photograph me in my
most embarrassing moment.
"Roberto?"
I called
his name a second time when I heard him
walking away, back down the stairs and off
the platform we were on.
"Roberto? What's
happening?"
"You
just relax," he was saying from somewhere
down on the floor behind the
platform.
I
remained in a state of panic until I heard
him returning back up the wooden
stairs.
"You
look so nice!"
His
voice behind sent a chill up my spine as
did the feeling of his hands grabbing my
ankles, lifting my feet to remove my
discarded clothes that had puddled around
them and removing my shoes with
them.
"What
are you doing, Roberto? Please! You're
scaring me!" I said, genuinely frightened
and feeling completely naked and
vulnerable.
"Relax,"
he said again.
I found
it impossible to as he coiled a rope
around each of my ankles and then
proceeded to drag my feet apart. I
resisted as best I could, but my struggles
were useless against his strength. Further
and further I was spread until at last he
hitched the ropes to eye bolts in the
floor and secured me in place. The camera
flashed a couple of times again as if to
remind me of the predicament I was
in.
"Your
pussy is very wet!"
"Roberto!" I gasped,
banging my shoulders hard on the cross
beam as I jumped forward trying to escape
his wriggling finder that had at that
moment plunged unexpectedly into me.
"Roberto! Stop that immediately!"
I felt
overcome with dread, squirming and
twisting in every direction as I tried to
escape the probing of his finger. It was
obviously an easy matter for his finger to
remain inside me and eventually I was
forced to stop moving in the hope he would
withdraw it himself. But he didn't.
Instead he used the moment to finger me
more vigorously, adding a second finger to
scissor and twist as he mauled and groped
me.
"Yes,
very wet..." he mumbled.
"No! I'm
not! You're wrong!"
Even
before the words finished tumbling from my
mouth I realized he was right. It was so
incredibly embarrassing and humiliating,
especially the sounds his fingers were now
making inside me. A squishy sound
unmistakable as the sound of my wetness. I
could even smell my arousal now, and this
horrified me. The heady, base sexual scent
mixed with the jasmine-like floral aroma
of my perfume.
"You
look good enough to eat!" Roberto laughed,
ignoring my feeble attempts to deny my
arousal.
"Ooooh!
Roberto! Stop it!" I shrieked, climbing up
onto tip toe when I felt his fingers
suddenly replaced with his tongue. His
hands clamped firmly on each of my cheeks
while his mouth - his breath hot and humid
against my defenseless pussy - clamped
over my clit. I felt so confused. He was
raping me with his tongue and yet I
couldn't stop the surreal, perverse
feelings of pleasure that instantly
swirled through my body. The sounds of him
slobbering hungrily behind as he devoured
me filled me with dread as did the thought
I might actually orgasm as a result of his
bizarre tongue lashing. I called for him
to stop, over and over, but each intoning
of the word came out sounding less and
less convincing. "Oh my God! Please stop!"
I gasped and shuddered like a quivering
mess after his hot, wet mouth and tongue
unexpectedly pulled away. I was left for a
moment knowing my pussy was now gushing
with the juices of my arousal; the
coolness of the dungeon air accentuating
the the tingling, not fully satisfied
sensations of my clit.
"You are
very tasty." There wasn't even the hint of
a lie in what he said.
"Roberto?" The sound of his
zipper being lowered alarmed me. A moment
later and the feeling of his cock, stiffly
erect, dancing between my spread thighs
had me shaking uncontrollably. I knew what
was about to happen and knew there was
nothing I could do or say now to stop
him.
My head
swam in a sea of dizziness and confusion
as I felt Roberto's cock glide easily up
into my pussy. He speared me so
effortlessly it took my breath away,
driving deep as he did in one, long, slow
stroke until his cock was fully seated
inside me. I could feel my pelvic muscles
contracting and relaxing around the girth
of his cock. It was a reflex action and
one I was unable to stop, even if I wanted
to. But I didn't want him to stop. It was
such a weird feeling I barely have the
words to describe it. Being locked naked
in the pillory as I was, so totally
helpless and defenseless; the bizarre
surroundings of the dungeon around me;
this virtual stranger behind me with his
cock buried deep inside me; thoughts
drifting back to the days of the
Inquisition when the dungeon might have
been filled with an audience eager to see
some heretic punished and raped ... it all
combined to send me into a swirling world
of giddy delight - a delight I'd never
before experienced.
"You're
enjoying this, aren't you!"
I
refused to answer knowing the only word I
could think of was yes and that if I said
no, the denial would only serve to make me
more aroused. Instead, I closed my eyes
and tried to forget about everything
except the sensations of pleasure
Roberto's deep, slowly pistoning strokes
were giving me. I was already orgasming.
Not a single orgasm but ripple after
unstoppable ripple of orgasmic delight. It
had me off in a place where nothing
mattered. Time ceased to exist and I
wanted it to continue forever. Roberto's
unexpected withdrawal came as a shock once
I realized he hadn't simply withdrawn so
he could impale me again with the full
length of his cock.
"Open
up!"
I was
still in a daze when I opened my eyes to
see Roberto, his cock glistening with the
manifest signs of my juicy pleasure,
standing in front of me. I wasn't sure
what he was wanting until he waved the
thing dangerously under my nose.
"I can't
do that..." I was about to speak when he
forced himself into my mouth.
I was
immediately gripped with a panic; a fear
that I might suddenly choke as he filled
my mouth with his foul tasting cock. I
desperately tried to breathe through my
nose as he proceeded to drive himself into
my mouth as he had done in my pussy. I
tried turning my head away but it was
impossible to break free. It was as if he
had me pinned in place on the end of his
cock and any turning of my head simply
afforded him the opportunity to find ways
to drive himself ever deeper into the back
reaches of my mouth.
I gave
up trying to scream and sucked like my
life depended on it. Not because I wanted
to, and I felt repulsed by the thought I
was sucking and swallowing my own juices,
but because I now just wanted it finished.
I sucked frantically, even moaning past
his solid cock-head in the hope he would
ejaculate quickly. It seemed to work and,
more suddenly than I had anticipated, I
felt the insides of my mouth rapidly
filling with something hot and salty. It
caught me by surprise at first but as my
cheeks ballooned to accommodate I realized
I had to swallow and swallow quickly if I
didn't want to drown in Roberto's filthy
jism. I gulped and gulped - a feeling of
nausea as I felt each and every large
globule slide down my throat to be
accepted into my stomach. Like an
oversized, gluttonous meal, I swallowed
and swallowed until I felt certain my
mouth was cleared. I felt disgusted with
myself and the look in Roberto's eye, when
I finally looked up at him - his cock
still in my mouth but softening - made it
clear this was only the beginning of an
odyssey of Homeric proportions...
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