Chapter 5

The young accused witch Hilda was a bit of a nuisance to I, Alphonse D' Paris because she was constantly at my side like a shadow cast by the angle of the sun. Fortunately, my dalliance with Drusilla did not suffer due to the strange effect the girl's presence seemed to have whilst I held the willing juicy wench in close embrace. She was never as emotional as when she knew the young girl's eyes were on my cock sliding into one of her available openings.

I had no problem with that at all because I found it caused me to stiffen just a bit more and spurt with much authority into my Drusilla's welcoming cavern. I much enjoyed watching the two wash each other in the wooden tub filled with heated water and lots of soap purchased with some of my reward from the royal court in honor of my proven lineage.

The royal patronage council called me into the castle to inform me that they had appropriated a suitable estate for my use located only a few dozen kilometers from the town. It had been under the rule of a certain gentleman whose name I do not mention here because he has some rather famous descendant back in my previous time. I refer to the time of my previous life as Mable Mahoney, all around wise ass and victim of death under suspicious circumstances. I mean the entire fucking nineteenth floor of the hotel in Manhattan was obliterated in a puff of dust. I would certainly say that warranted the label of "suspicious".

I had enough funds to order a carriage and secure the services of a footman called Jeffrey. He was a hulking brute with muscles of steel. It would certainly save a lot of wear and tear on my own knuckles to have this Neanderthal hulk as my servant. Of course, I took Drusilla and Hilda with me because I was uncertain of the availability of cunt in the new residence.

Our journey took us past the terrible gibbets outside the castle with the hanging corpses of alleged criminals and possible witches. I saw Hilda looking at them with visible fear in her eyes. She snuggled up close inside Drusilla's encircling arm like a baby bird looking for her mama. I could tell from Drusilla's heaving bosom that her thoughts were not particularly motherly at that very moment.

The sight of the estate as we came out of the sheltering trees and over a small hillock was quite impressive. It must have been built close to a hundred years ago when stones were easy to come by in that region. Now, they had to be imported all the way from places like Italy or Spain and at a pretty penny to be assured.

There were no servants lined up at the entrance to greet us and that was a sign of trouble.

When we trooped inside, we found the place deserted except for a couple of drunken fools in the kitchen helping themselves to the cooking wine. Jeffrey ousted them through the back door with a helpful kick in the ass.

A small cart came up to the main entrance and a clergyman of modest dress descended to greet us. He introduced himself to us as Pere Anton and explained that he had recently buried the entire family of former residents behind the church with nobody in attendance except for the gravedigger. The family had consisted of a mother and father and two small boys of uncertain age whose names were Homer and Horace but that he was not sure which was which so he buried them in the same grave and placed a marker that included both names. That way, he was certain to be correct and not mistaken. It would be far too confusing for the final coming to have people buried in the wrong place and sent to the wrong reward or punishment in error.

I found his logic to be simple but consummately amusing and invited him in to sup with us hoping that the kitchen would have some stores to provide sustenance. I could see he was ogling both Drusilla and Hilda despite his higher calling and could not fault him for it because they were both quite fetching in spite of the confusion of the moment.

After opening a bottle of dark red from the cellar, I discovered that the previous family had committed a grievous error in the father winning a substantial wager at cards with the King's nephew who was quite unable to pay because he was already dreadfully in debt to many creditors. Rather than suffer the stigma of destitute relations, the King's men descended on the estate and after a mock trial of treason, they quickly hanged the entire family except for a missing daughter estimated to be about sixteen years of age and last seen running into the forest.

I found the entire story to be most interesting but had little pity for the unfortunate family since such trickery was well-known in the year AD833 and they should have been more cautious about who they played cards with. I also wondered if the young daughter had found any solace in the forest or had succumbed to the wild beasts or some two-legged animals with even less mercy.