Chapter 16: Season 5; The Ring Has No End

Season five started with a slight misunderstanding between me and the Chevalier. He had returned to Port Vendres from Agadir at the end of March and informed me this would be a different season from any other and would begin in Beirut.

“Beirut?!t is a blood bath over there. All the women wear burkas and if you dare talk to one some sword wielding Arab will cut off your head, after first severing your penis and stuffing it in your mouth!”

“I think you may be in need a hearing aid, Rafael. I said the season will begin in Bayreuth, which is not in the Levant but in Bavaria.”

We flew from Perpignan to Munich and from there drove to Bayreuth. During the flight the Chevalier gave me a brief history of the town and the annual musical festival held there. In a nutshell, Bayreuth’s claim to fame rests on one man – Richard Wagner – composer and showman.

Although I have been brought up listening to arias from opera I am not an opera fan per se. I like short, melodic, heart tugging arias by Puccini, Verdi, Bellini, Rossini, and the like, not forgetting Mozart of course. I also don’t think German a particularly good language to be sung. Too harsh and staccato for my taste, and when you remember Mozart wrote many of his operas in Italian maybe I am in good company. I admit I hadn’t heard much of Wagner’s work. The Ride of the Valkyries is one well-known piece of course, which seems to be the regimental march of many countries’ airborne troops. Who can forget that iconic moment in the film Apocalypse Now when the insane Colonel Kilgore led his helicopters into action (I love the smell of napalm in the morning.) with the music of the Ride of the Valkyries blaring out. Other than that I was blissfully unaware of the scope and depth, and the sheer volume, of a Wagner opera at full throttle and full metal jacket mode.

This year’s festival in Bayreuth was special as the complete Ring Cycle, four linked very large and very loud operas, was to be presented in the Festspielhaus, the concert hall designed by Wagner to show off his latest creations, and possibly the only building in the town not flattened by Allied bombing during World War Two. Bayreuth may have been a major manufacturing area and a prime target during that conflict but was probably devastated by aerial bombardment for being linked with Wagner, who is partnered with the Nazis. Poor town. Destruction by association.

Our two companions for the next month were Frau and Fraulein Hoosierhofen from Antwerp. Frau Isobel Hoosierhofen was a well-built, blond haired, blue eyed female of about forty five. She had the fresh, rosy cheeked, complexion of the Dutch as she was a Flemish speaking Belgian with an accent when speaking French that caused me much mirth. I hoped I did not show my amusement as she was a sweet, kind, gentle woman with a prominent bosom on which I was looking forward to resting my head. Her daughter, Sidonie, who really was her daughter and not one of Grafin von Eylau’s girls, was a miniature version of her mother but as yet with only a budding bosom. I put her age slightly north of 15 but well above 14, the age of consent in Germany, allowing the Chevalier unlimited lawful carnal knowledge of her.

We met the pair in the hotel Die Meistersingers, where we were accommodated in adjoining suites with the facility of unlocking the dividing door. For the first three days the four of us explored the town, which consisted mainly of Wagner themed venues. The Hoosierhofens were ardent fans of Herr Richard Wagner and had come especially for the Ring Cycle, with the added ring a ding ding of a young stud for Isobel.

One thing I learned from The Ring experience was Wagner believed in huge orchestras playing at maximum decibels, accompanied by singers who could lift the roof off a concert hall with the power of their lungs. I referred to him as a showman and I was correct. What developed on the stage was melodramatic theatre, with over the top performances from the singers and the orchestra. Just the size and composition of the orchestras, and the duration of each opera, informs one of the grandiose sweep of Wagner’s imagination.

The first opera in the Der Ring des Nibelungen, (The Ring of the Nibelungs, aka the ‘Ring Cycle’), is Das Rheingold. (The Rhinegold) The orchestra consists of 105 musicians, including 18 tuned anvils (?) that are indicated in the musical score with specific size, quantity and pitch, and the opera lasts for 150 minutes.

Die Walküre (The Valkyrie), the second opera in the cycle, has 94 musicians and lasts for 225 minutes.

Siegfried, the third opera, also has 94 musicians and lasts for 245 minutes.

Gotterdammerung (Twilight of the Gods), the final opera in the cycle, employs 101 musicians, a chorus of 44, and lasts for a whopping 280 minutes.

Of course there is an interval of several days between each opera in The Ring being staged, but even so it is an assault on ones emotions, hearing, and bladder, to sit through the entire Ring. That delight was yet to come.

For the first three days in Bayreuth I never laid a hand on any part of Frau Hoosierhofen’s anatomy other than perhaps her hand when helping her into or out of the car. I spent those three nights alone and wondered if I had BO for me to be so sexually ignored by Isobel. The Chevalier too was going to his bed alone, although both females seemed happy enough with our company during the day. After playing a hand or two of whist with the Chevalier and me in the lounge after dinner the two females would bid us goodnight in the corridor outside our suites and disappear into theirs, not to be seen or heard from until breakfast the following morning.

“What’s the matter with them?” I asked the Chevalier. “Don’t we measure up to what they expected?”

“I believe they are taking their time in getting to know us socially before we get to know them carnally. I have the impression this is the first time Frau Hoosierhofen has hired a young man to ‘escort’ her at a Ring Cycle. In fact I checked with Grafin Irma von Eylau and she confirmed my suspicion. We must allow them to come onto us rather than force the issue. They will make their move when they are ready, or at least when Frau Hoosierhofen is ready. Young Sidonie is champing at the bit and is not the virgin she appears to be. She might look to be in mint condition but I think she has passed through at least one pair of expert hands before today. It would be a bonus if she were still a virgin, but even if she isn’t she has not had a great deal of experience so I will need to tread softly and be gentle.”

“Should I do the same when – if – Frau Hoosierhofen makes a move?”

He reflected for a moment. “She and her daughter have been to other Ring Cycles but presumably not with male escorts. Music has a strange effect on some people, and no doubt when Richard works his magic the two females will blossom, and we will reap our reward.”

As usual the Chevalier was right on the money.

The first of the operas in The Ring is Das Rheingold, and four days after arriving in Bayreuth we, the Chevalier escorting Frau Hoosierhofen and me Fräulein Hoosierhofen, arrived at the Festspielhaus together with thousands of Wagner fans.

I was blown away when Das Rheingold exploded on stage. Not just because of the extravagant music and singing but also with the stage settings. Whoever designed the sets must have got into Richard Wagner’s mind. It was fantastic. I won’t bore you with the story of Der Ring des Nibelungen.I If you are interested there are plenty of pages on the internet for you to peruse. Suffice it to say the first opera has maidens swimming in the River Rhine, dwarves below ground hammering out a Golden Ring, Gods having Valhalla built, and a Rainbow Bridge. The stage settings matched the various locations/Acts and rivalled the grandeur and bravado of the music.

It was at the beginning of Act II when I felt Frau Hoosierhofen’s hand lightly land on my thigh. I glanced at her but she was staring transfixed at the bass-baritone singer playing Wotan. During the interval between Act II and Act III the hand that had been resting on my thigh slid onto my groin, grasping and gripping, and by the end of the opera I was as hard as stone. When returning to the hotel in the car Frau Hoosierhofen avoided eye contact but once upstairs in the corridor outside our suites she acted. She grabbed me by the hand and rushed me into her suite and I saw from the corner of my eye Fräulein Hoosierhofen hand in hand with the Chevalier disappearing into his suite. I was then thoroughly, energetically, and frequently ravaged by Frau Hoosierhofen during that evening and night. We did not make it down to breakfast next morning but had room service, and I provided a more intimate room service after breakfast (I love the smell of an aroused female in the morning). It was lunch time before we met up with Fräulein Hoosierhofen and the Chevalier; the latter looked as exhausted as I felt. Fortunately, the ladies were as sated as us men and the rest of the day was spent strolling around the many municipal gardens in the town. By evening I was ready to continue where Isobel and I had left off earlier that morning, but after our evening game of whist it was as before; the two Hoosierhofens retired to their suite and the Chevalier and I to ours. The days following were similar to the celibate days, and nights, before the staging of Das Rheingold, until we attended the next opera in the Cycle, Die Walküre.

In fact, I only had groin to groin combat with Isobel Hoosierhofen after attending an opera, but when we did carnally combine it was Wagnerian in intensity, volume, vigour, and duration. After seeing Die Walküre I mentally changed Isobel’s name to Brunhilde; she rode me like a demented, spur-wearing, Valkyrie practically all night, and it seems the Chevalier was also ridden to near extinction by her daughter Sidonie. After our late, extremely late, breakfast on the morning following our attendance at Die Walküre he took me aside.

“I may have bitten off more than I can chew with Sidonie. Last night I thought she was going to ride me to death!”

“Like a Valkyrie?” I said, thinking ‘like mother like daughter’.

The Chevalier nodded. “I have known some violent, passionate, wild and rapacious females in my time but Sidonie is off the Richter scale. You will have to take care of her needs as well as her mother’s.”

Actually, it worked out rather well. Sidonie was on heat all day and every day, whereas her mother only went carnally berserk and had Wagnerian sex with me after attending an opera. Fräulein Sidonie Hoosierhofen was not so much insatiable as inquiring, wanting to try positions she had heard of but not yet assumed. I was privileged to be her guide and mentor, and she was indeed much more passionate, wild, and rapacious than you would think to look at her. It shows you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, and I thumbed through Sidonie’s pages every night when I wasn’t satisfying her mother.

The final opera in the Cycle, Gotterdammerung – Twilight of the Gods – was almost mine too; when an exhausted Isobel/Brunhilde fell off a drained, spent, and wearied me I had her equally ravenous daughter waiting in the wings. Fortunately, Sidonie realised she couldn’t go all out all of the time and paced herself, allowing me to recover from seeing to her mother and permitting me to take five when seeing to her. Even so I was glad when the Ring Cycle was completed and it was time to say farewell to the Hoosierhofens.

I received a great shock when the Chevalier informed me where we would be meeting our next pair of April – Decembers, and the names of the pair. The city was Verona in Italy and the pair we were to escort:

“The Hoosierhofens” the Chevalier said, straight-faced.

“Hoosierhofens! Are they related to our Hoosierhofens?”

“No, they are our Hoosierhofens!”

I probably looked stupid as I stared at him with my mouth hanging open. “What...?”

“Grafin Irma von Eylau had another pair of males ready to escort the Hoosierhofens at Verona but Isobel contacted her and asked that we be retained. It appears we, or rather you, made a most favourable impression on Frau Hoosierhofen. The Grafin added an extra twenty per-cent to the Hoosierhofen’s bill and we will receive a productivity bonus. Unfortunately we have to sit through another Ring Cycle. I’m not sure my ears can take another audial pounding --” He paused for a moment or two. “However, the performances take place in the Verona Arena, a Roman built amphitheatre. It is open to the sky so the noise will not be so intense as at Bayreuth.”

“But the operas will be just as long, and as I recall amphitheatres are built of stone and marble.”

The Chevalier gave a brief smile. “We will be supplied with cushions.”

Great!

We and the Hoosierhofens travelled separately to Verona. They took an earlier flight than us from Munich and we all met up at our shared hotel. We were all accommodated on the same floor but did not have adjoining suites. As in Bayreuth there was no sexual intimacy between Frau Hoosierhofen and me until the evening after the first opera in the Ring Cycle, Das Rheingold, had been staged, which took place four days after our arrival in Verona.

Verona has more to recommend it to tourists than just the musical festival and for three days we followed the tourist trail around the city. We viewed Juliet’s balcony, all eight of them, many fine churches, the amphitheatre where the festival takes place, and of course spending time in cafés, restaurants, bistros of the ancient city, besides making a day trip to Lake Garda and taking a motor boat sight-seeing excursion. Notwithstanding the three day sex embargo placed on me by Frau Isobel Hoosierhofen I enjoyed pleasurable nightly interludes of sexual congress with her daughter.