M. Debreyne

The Ribald Monk

CHAPTER ONE

Master Anselme, innkeeper at Chalons, was putting a chicken on a spit when suddenly the door opened and there appeared a rider dressed in black, who breathlessly asked for a room at once.

— There is none available, said the innkeeper.

— A garret-anything will do! said the stranger and, at the same time, rushed upstairs and disappeared from view only a few seconds before a police officer and three archers entered the inn shouting:

— Where is the abbot?

— Which abbot? asked Master Anselme.

— The one who came into your inn just now.

— I did not see any abbot, the innkeeper said, but then my back was turned…

— Come on, fellows! the police officer shouted to his men, and he ran up the stairs.

Meanwhile the fugitive, after having knocked vainly at the first door, had more luck with the second one, which opened and there appeared, framed in the doorway, a ravishing young woman in an expensive night-gown.

— What do you want? she asked, trembling with fear.

— Shelter! the stranger said. Some men are pursuing me! I'll explain later but please have a heart.

Before she had time to recover from the surprise, he strode into the room, hurriedly took off and hid his boots and slid into the woman's bed. Just in time, for a gruff voice was heard to command:

— Open the door, in the name of the King!

— The woman obeyed, saying:

— There must be some mistake…

The police officer gave a glance round the room, eventually resting his sight on the man's hair protruding above the bed-sheets.

Anticipating his question, the woman explained:

— My husband is suffering from a high fever, Sir. Please give him respite till to-morrow.

— Your husband!..

The police officer grimaced with spite and strode off, banging the door behind him.

The young lady sighed with relief and sat down to let her heart take back its normal rhythm. She could hear the heavy footsteps of the police officer and his archers. After a while they were no longer to be heard.

The man came out of his hiding-place and said:

— Madame, how can I ever thank you for having saved me?

And as, embarrassed, she remained silent, he bowed gracefully and spoke:

— Do not be afraid, Madame, I am not a bandit. I have neither stolen nor…

After a moment's hesitation, he pursued: ”… I was about to say 'nor killed' but it wouldn't be true. You see, I have killed, but honourably, in a duel, and that is why the police are after me.”

With his finely-shaped hand he pointed to the bed and asked:

— You were about to sleep? I am sorry. Do take back the place I so daringly occupied for a moment. I won't look.

And he turned his back on her while she crept into bed. But she blushed when she realized that he had turned his back in vain for he could see her just as well in a mirror hanging on the wall.

— What are you going to do now? she asked.

— The alarm is over, he said, but allow me to stay a few moments more. When all are asleep in town I shall slip away, with the remembrance of the gratitude I owe you. Can your husband come in unexpectedly?

— He is away on a trip, she reassured him.

— Good! he exclaimed, I would hate the idea of causing you any trouble.

As she smiled she looked very lovely, and so young. Indeed, he thought, he would have had much more difficulty with an older woman.

— Do tell me what happened to you, she asked.

So he started telling her about himself and the events leading to his duel, and he was so eloquent that the young woman, the better to listen, lay on her stomach, resting her chin on her hands, and, in this position, she revealed a ravishing decolletage- one breast was nearly uncovered, and its twin brother looked just as appetising.

This sight excited his imagination, and the delicate perfume that emanated from her acted directly on his senses and made him bold, so he slipped an arm around her.

— But, Sir! she cried, and tried, not very convincingly, to wriggle out of his grasp. In her struggle, the protruding breast came out of the low-cut night-gown completely and at once his hand took hold of it, caressing it and nipping its nipple. She was obviously struggling against her instincts but; he was fighting a losing battle.

Vainly, she tried to cover her body with the bed-sheets and to brush away his hands which were straying along her body, her legs and-yes, even here…

Then, suddenly, she saw the Big Bad Wolf, all naked and stiff with hunger, straining towards her.

— Oh, no! she moaned. Please respect me… if my husband…

— He must be a hundred miles away from here!

How could she resist this unexpected offensive, so skilful, and with the convincing argument that represented this goading virility?

Novice, she certainly was-a more experienced woman would have found a way of getting rid of a pestering, man. But she proved even more of a novice than he had thought, for, indeed, when he penetrated her femininity he found a well-known resistance and she let out a little scream of pain. Yes, she was a virgin! The idea stimulated him and he pursued his offensive till he saw her relax and he felt she was enjoying it, so he went on caressing and fucking her. Prom time to time, he kissed her lips, and she responded oh so tenderly, and he drank in the perfume of her warm throat, licked the salty little rivulet of sweat between the two shapely orbs of her breasts.

Resting for a while, he asked:

— You are married and still a virgin?

She explained that her husband had been called away on an important mission on the very evening of her wedding-day.

— If I had been him, he said proudly, I would have found time to be a husband to you before going away.

— Not all men are as bold as you are, she said admiringly, then she added, with anxiety, what will my husband say when he discovers I am no longer a virgin?

— If he discovers it-which is not at all certain — you can tell him you wanted to spare him the sorrow of hurting you, he suggested, and, anyway, it will teach him a lesson for his offence of going away without honouring you.

So saying, he bent over her and kissed her again, and, after having nibbled her teats for a while, he gave her the old boy again. Then, getting bolder still, he licked her pain away, and she enjoyed that so much that he was quite surprised-agreeably so, it goes without saying-when, a few moments later, she herself took the initiative and used her tongue to good effect, and Choisy reflected that he had never before come across a new bride being so endearingly bold.

CHAPTER TWO

The abbot of Choisy did not tarry in Chalons, although his new conquest begged him to give her some more lessons in love-making. Before dawn, he was galloping away towards the Dutch frontier.

Abbot of Choisy? He was not really an abbot- he had only inherited this title because he was the beneficiary of an abbey. The countess of Choisy cherished him because he was the youngest of four sons and she winked at his unruly life. A handsome, mischievous and impertinent boy, he had not only succeeded in winning his mother's affection, but was quite a favourite in court, mainly because of the affection and even tenderness which Philip of Orleans, Louis XIV's brother, had for him.

But Francois de Choisy had none of the sexual leanings that his protector had, for, indeed, “Monsieur,” the king's brother, did nothing to conceal his femininity. Choisy on the other hand, often used his disguise to spring it as a surprise and thus win the affection of several beautiful women, who were so taken aback to discover that under his womanly attire there hid an unmistakable virility, that they readily succumbed to him.

Choisy galloped up to Dordrecht, feeling sure he had now nothing more to fear from the men pursuing him.

A little way outside the town he perceived a beautiful garden of tulips, and, tending the flowers, a woman just as beautiful, with her fair hair the colour of ripe corn and her sky-blue eyes, and whose bosom contained, imprisoned in a linen sheath, two half-moons of such an appetising aspect that his mouth watered.

As he complimented her on the flowers, she exclaimed, smiling:

— Well, sir, have you never seen tulips before?

— I can see you are a stranger to these parts, she said.

— Why? Because I admire tulips?

With an attractive laugh that matched her looks, she answered:

— Not only that, but you look foreign. I'd wager you are a subject of the King of France.

— A very faithful subject indeed, Choisy said ironically, but my poor Frisky is spent. Haven't you got a stable or a shed for him?

— Come! she answered, simply, leading the way to a stable which housed a cow, and giving Frisky some fodder and straw.

They talked and he learnt that her name was Julia and that her husband was a sailor, away on a voyage.

Choisy was quick to grasp his opportunity, so, after having spent the night in an inn, he came back to see the girl the following morning under the pretext of inquiring about his horse Frisky.

— He still needs a few days' rest, Julia observed, are you obliged to go away at once?

— No, he replied, I can stay a while in the realm of tulips… I like this country, and its people are so hospitable.

Julia smiled at the compliment as she naturally took it to be a personal one. It even seemed to Choisy that she was not without some emotion, which made the half-moons of her bosom rise animatedly.

They went to the table and talked amicably while patting Frisky.

— Aren't you lonesome all on your own with a husband so often away on the high sea? he asked leadingly.

She sighed a little and said with a forced smile:

— I keep busy with my garden, my hens and the cow.

— That's all right during the day, but at night?

— At night, I sleep, she said, startled.

— Perchance to dream?…

The girl's cheeks passed from pink to bright red.

— No, I rarely dream, she affirmed, adding, but you are so curious!

— I bet that in your dreams you imagine yourself in the arms of a man, your husband, of course.

— Oh! Do please stop your teasing me so! she said, you don't deserve the pancakes I had prepared for you.

She ran away to the kitchen and came back with a dish full of pancakes and a tankard of beer. They sat down to this lovely meal.

— I've never eaten better pancakes, he exclaimed after a while, if I were your husband I would stay here all the time growing flowers and eating pancakes.

At that, Julia laughed gaily, and she was so troubled by the compliment that one could have sworn her breasts would at any moment escape from their linen prison.

— Allow me to kiss you as a reward for having spoilt me with such wonderful pancakes, he said, and he rose and laid his lips on the slightly humid nape of her neck.

It smelt deliciously of woman.