Chapter 6: The Graveyard of Virtue

The architecture of Severckt nad Goradki was similar to the northwestern section of Danka’s hometown of Rika Heckt-nemat, where the city’s wealthier families lived. However its setting was completely different. Instead of sitting in a flat river valley, Severckt nad Goradki was built on a hill and surrounded by steep hills and mountains. The only fields were located along the road approaching from the south: the forests began immediately on the north side of the town. The city’s inhabitants were mostly wealthy, because apart from working as a house servant, there was nothing in the area for poor people to do.

Bagaturckt took his companion to a friend’s house, which was one of the largest in the city. The friend was absent on a hunting trip, but he had left instructions with the servants to let Bagaturckt stay overnight and use the guest suite. The servants led the travelers to the nicest room Danka had ever seen. For the first time in her life she saw vases that had been imported from China and rugs imported from Persia. There was a huge fluffy bed with the covers turned down.

Bagaturckt ordered the servants to bathe his woman, re-braid her hair, and make sure she had something to eat. The experience turned out to be very strange and unsettling, because the servants told the penitent that she was to keep her hands at her sides and let them wash her and fix her hair. She stood quietly as the women soaped and lathered her body, paying special attention to her vulva and bottom. They volunteered only one observation: “everything must be perfect for the Master.” Even after eating, Danka was not allowed to clean her own teeth. One of the servants held her wrists while the other carefully rubbed fine salt mixed with mint extract around her teeth and gums.

In the meantime, he retired to the bathhouse and got cleaned up as well. He did not bother to get dressed. Oddly enough, even though they had just spent two days traveling together, she had not yet seen him unclothed. In a few moments that would change.

When Danka entered the room, she was a bit shocked to see her love naked, even though she fully expected to surrender her virginity that day. She was excited ... she was about to find out what it was to quit being a girl and start being a woman ... and with the best man she possibly could have.

Bagaturckt started out tenderly. He wanted to make sure she was aroused and relaxed to make the session as pleasurable for him as possible. Virgins didn’t come along very often, so he was careful to take full advantage of one whenever he had the opportunity. He moved her hand to his stiffening penis.

“Grab it. Not too tight. Move your hand up and down, slowly.”

When Danka complied, he went completely erect within seconds. He moved his fingertips to her vulva, gently tracing the opening to make sure she was wet. Yes, she was. He touched her clitoris and teased her. Good. The girl was ready.

“Lie on the bed. Spread your legs. You will understand the first time will hurt, but that pain is the Creator’s way of letting you know you are fulfilling your duty to me. Your suffering is a blessing in the eyes of the Creator. You would be wise to remember that and obey what I tell you.”

The mood of the room immediately changed as soon as Bagaturckt got on the bed. He pushed the penitent’s thighs upward so he could get in better. He rammed into her as hard as he could. She felt the tissue inside tearing apart and was shocked at the pain. She cried out and tried to push him back, but he grabbed her hands and pinned her to the bed. He grunted and thrust as hard as he could, over and over. After-all, for a woman to understand her place with him, it was important to make the first time as painful as possible.

Danka cried out again, from both pain and terror. She felt like she was being completely torn apart.

“Bagaturckt! Please! Hurt!”

He slapped her hard across the face.

“Of course it hurts! It’s what you deserve!”

She felt his penis pulsating as he climaxed and unloaded his first round of sperm. He pulled out of her and she instinctively covered her injured vagina. Blood was coming out. Her upper thighs were covered in red. It seeped through her fingers and soaked her pubic hair.

Bagaturckt didn’t give her the chance to worry about her injuries. He dug his fingers into her hair and yanked her off the bed. Danka was crying as he positioned her in front of him.

“Put my penis in your mouth. Lick it off and suck until I’m hard again. I’ll break your neck if you dare bite down on me.”

Danka gagged on the taste of semen and blood, but she was terrified and desperate to obey. In a few minutes he was hard again, ready for another round.

“Get on the bed. On your knees. Just like you would at the Temple. Kneel before the Creator, Penitent.”

Danka complied, even though she was shocked at the blasphemy. She spread her knees, arched her back, and extended her arms in front, lewdly exposing her bloody crotch. She was crying and trembling with fear. Bagaturckt was totally aroused at the sight of blood trickling down her thighs and the girl’s submissive posture. Her trembling body and quiet sobs added to the erotic spectacle.

“Stay in position. Do not move. If you want, you can cry out, but do not dare move.”

Bagaturckt picked up a heavy strap and struck hard at the girl’s upturned bottom. She screamed and he hit her several more times. She was sobbing loudly and her whole body was shaking. Lovely, the blood, the welts, the crying, the fear, this was what made fucking a virgin so great. It was what made spending several weeks patiently seducing her worth it.

Bagaturckt was more than ready for a second round. His penis was as hard as before, ready to pump another batch of semen into her. He moved behind her and, as roughly as he could, pushed inside. He was determined that nothing would remain of the girl’s virginity when he finished with her. He was rewarded with more crying and more blood, although not nearly as much as the first time.

Bagaturckt left the room to get cleaned up. Danka remained on the bed, lying on her side with her hands between her legs. The pillow beneath her face was soaked with tears, and the sheet beneath her body was soaked with sweat and blood. She couldn’t believe how much it hurt. She was in shock, because she had not expected sex to be so - awful. She certainly hadn’t expected her lover to be so - awful.

Danka dozed off. She woke up when Bagaturckt re-entered the room. He was still naked and had yet another erection. She noticed that he had a shiny glob of pig-fat on his fingertips.

“Lie face-down on the bed. Take that pillow and put it under your hips.”

Danka was bewildered at the command. When she moved too slowly, Bagaturckt picked up the strap. The penitent quickly moved to get the pillow under her and position herself as directed. It didn’t do her any good. She screamed when he laid two cruel blows across her naked backside.

“You will learn to obey me, girl. You’re mine now, until I say otherwise. I expect complete obedience.”

“Yes ... yes, Bagaturckt.”

“Until I say otherwise” Those words were another severe blow to Danka’s illusions, but she had other things to worry about. Bagaturckt got on the bed and spread his lover’s bottom-cheeks. He dabbed the pig lard around the girl’s anus and put some on the tip of his penis. He pushed down, using his bodyweight to force himself completely inside. Danka’s sphincter and intestines immediately protested in pain. She struggled, but he pinned her arms to the bed and held her tight. Once again, he wanted the experience to be as painful as possible so she would remember it for the rest of her life. When he finished, he hit her with the strap again and left the room.

Danka curled up into a fetal position and resumed crying. She would not be able to get back to sleep. The raw pain in her violated sphincter and the deep ache in her intestines added to the burning coming from her vagina and the welts from the strap. Besides, what other horrible things was that awful man going to do to her?

Just hours before she had been full of love and was giving thanks to the Creator, but now that love and gratitude were gone. She hated the Creator. She hated herself. She most certainly hated Bagaturckt.

She remembered the words of her the young Priestess, spoken just a few weeks before: “We are not supposed to hate, but I hope the Creator understands that my hatred of Bagaturckt is quite justified.”

Yes, Priestess, your hatred of him is justified. Very justified. So, you couldn’t have warned me?

But Danka knew the answer to her own question. The Priestess did try to warn her, but was trying to avoid being too obvious. Anyhow, even had the Priestess been more direct about the warning, she wouldn’t have listened.

The house servants entered the room at sunrise and ordered Danka to accompany them to the bath house. She struggled to get out of bed while they watched with indifferent expressions. Danka blushed upon seeing all the dried blood, semen, sweat, tears, and smeared feces on the bed sheet. The servants didn’t react, apart from pulling off the bedding as soon as she was on her feet. She tried to cover herself, but two women ordered her to put out her hands. They grabbed her wrists and led her out of the room.

A warm bath already was awaiting Danka when she entered the bath house. An older servant placed a chamber pot in the corner and ordered the guest to relieve herself before getting in the tub.

“It’ll hurt and you won’t want to do it, but you have no choice. You’ll heal faster if you get all the piss and shit out of you now. It might feel like your Path in Life has ended, but it hasn’t. All the virgin lasses go through this and all of them survived. You’ll survive as well. You’re no different than any of the others.”

“The others? How many others?”

“Many. Every time the Master or one of his friends finds a virgin lass, they take her up to that room. They even gave a nickname to it: the ‘Graveyard of Virtue’.

“ ... and Master Bagaturckt?”

“He doesn’t come here as often as the Master’s other friends, but Master Bagaturckt’s Path in Life has taken him to the foreign lands, where he indulges himself, to be sure.”

“ ... but, he’s come here with other girls ... virgins?”

“Yes, but today is the first time we’ve seen him in two years.”

“Two years? And ... the last time ... did he have a girl with him?”

“Oh, yes he did. And that one was special. A seminary student from the Temple in Starivktaki Moskt. I heard him tell the Master of the house it took him months to convince her to come up here. He was quite proud of himself, proud that he indulged his desires with a virtuous woman of the Church.”

As she sat on the chamber-pot, wincing while she painfully emptied her intestines, Danka thought about what else she should ask. The servant attending her seemed chatty and she needed to take advantage of that. The penitent was still devastated and traumatized, but she knew feeling sorry for herself wouldn’t help her. She needed to extract herself from the grasp of Bagaturckt, but she was in a strange town and couldn’t do anything without more information. She decided to ask some more questions about the seminary student as soon as she finished and got into the bathtub.

“I ... I was curious, how did he ... convince a Temple apprentice to come up here? And, how did he get her out of the Temple?”

“The same way he convinced you to come up here, I’d imagine. Poetry, love talk, gifts,” The servant thought for a moment. “Yes, and with the seminary student Master Bagaturckt talked about the Lord-Creator and the forest. yes, that’s it, he used the name of the Lord-Creator to seduce her. He talked about the forest and how she’d see the best and most beautiful place the Lord-Creator had given to the Realm of the Living. And he did take her there, but I’d imagine, after what the Masters did to her, she no longer cared.”

“Masters? As in, more than one?”

“Oh yes. Master Bagaturckt humiliated that student as much as he could. After he deflowered her, he wouldn’t let her bathe until he took her before our Master and two others who were visiting at the time. He made her show herself to them and then asked her what she thought the Lord-Creator would say about her virtue, now that the only memory of it was the dry blood running down her thighs. She cried and the men made fun of her. Finally, he did let her bathe. He indulged himself with her again. On the third day he took her to the chambers of the my Master and then presented her to the others. On the fourth day, as promised, he took her to see the forest.”

“But, I don’t understand, why? Why would he do that, to a seminary student? Why humiliate her like that? What did she ever do to him to make him hate her so much? And, what did I ever do?”

“That question is easily answered. Master Bagaturckt hates virtue. More than anything, he hates women who consider themselves virtuous. Everywhere he sees virtue, he tries to destroy it. My Master and the others feel the same way about virtuous women, although perhaps not as strongly as Master Bagaturckt.”

There was a pause and the servant continued:

“Master Bagaturckt did not hate the seminary student and he doesn’t hate you. He hates no one. But he hated your virtue, which is why he brought you to this house. Now, let me ask you something. Did you go through the door into that bedroom willingly, or did he force you?”

“I ... I guess I went in there willingly.”

“You guess, or did you enter that room according to your own wishes?”

“I went in there because I ... I thought he loved me. I wanted to give myself to him.”

“Which is indeed what you did. You willingly went through that door, and you willingly presented your body for him to enjoy. That is the way it has been with all of you. There is not a single woman who ever was forced into that room. Each one of you walked in there willingly.”

“But it was because we were tricked.”

“No, not because you were tricked. You went in there because you only saw what you wanted to see. The only deception was the deception you inflicted upon yourself.”

“But, I did it out of love.”

“Yes, just like all the others, you did it out of love. That is a problem, isn’t it? Love is very dangerous. Love can be a blessing from the Lord-Creator, or a curse from Beelzebub the Destroyer. Of the two, which do you think is the most common?”

“I guess, for me it would be the curse.”

“Not just for you. For most people it would be the curse. That is the lesson you will take away from this house. Love is a curse much more often than it is a blessing.”

“So, what should I do now? Can you help me escape?”

“There’s no need for you to escape. Master Bagaturckt already took from you what he wanted. He’ll keep you for a month or so, and then he’ll find a place to leave you. I advise you to stay with him until that time comes, because he will want to be assured you are safe.”

“Safe? How can I be safe? He just ruined my life!”

“Remember what I said earlier. He hates virtue and wants to destroy it. If there’s no virtue left in you, you’ll be more than safe with him. He’ll want you to stay alive and pass that lesson to others.”

“I don’t want to stay with him for a month. I don’t want to see him, ever. I’d rather...”

“Yes, you’d rather die, I know. All of you say the same thing. And if you die, what good would that do? Do you really want to hold up your mirror to the Lord-Creator with your Path in Life as it is now? I wouldn’t. When the month passes and you are left to make your own decisions again, you can fix most of what was broken in that room. Not all of it, obviously, but you’ll be surprised how much the simple passing of time can repair your soul. And if Master Bagaturckt wishes to take you into the forest, you should go. It has places that are worth seeing and knowledge you’ll never obtain in the city.”

When Danka did not reply, the Servant added: “There is something I can do for you to make sure you pass the next month without having your life disrupted any more than it is already.”

The servant pointed at a set of shelves near the door. Mostly they contained soaps and perfumes, but there was one shelf containing some small brown ceramic jars.

“Take a couple of those jars on your way out and put them with your other belongings. As soon as your insides heal from ‘the loss of your virtue’, you need to take a finger-full of that paste and rub it completely around your womanhood. You need to rub it on the inside, as deep as you can. Do that once each day and if you can, right before sex. Do it right, and that paste will prevent you from getting pregnant.”

“Paste? That actually works?”

“I don’t know how it works, but it does. You might have noticed on the way in, this town does not have nearly as many children as most places around the Duchy. The only children who live here are the ones that were actually wanted by their mothers. If a woman doesn’t want a baby, she uses Babackt Yaga’s paste, and the moon passes her by.”

“Babackt Yaga? Who’s that?”

“She’s an alchemist who lives up in the mountains. She’s been there as long as I can remember, and I’m not young. Her alchemy is something to behold, because her potions can heal many of the curses Beelzebub the Destroyer has inflicted on us. Her potions can’t heal everything, and she’ll tell you that herself. But many evil things can be healed, or simply prevented, including an undesired baby. I’d imagine you don’t want to carry Master Bagaturckt’s child?”

“No.”

“That’s how I can help you. Take two of those jars. You will need to wait until your injuries heal, or that paste will burn your insides. But once you’ve healed, you should be able to use it with no problem.”

Danka stood up and reluctantly took two jars.

“I will take you back the ‘graveyard of virtue’. I know the masters, and I can tell you something important about all of them. They become bored very quickly. Do what Master Bagaturckt says. Don’t resist him. Don’t challenge him. Don’t let him see your suffering. Follow that advice and he’ll probably return you to the Temple before the next moon.”

As she accompanied the servant to the guest room, Danka pondered the advice. She had no reason to mistrust the servant: if anything the servant had placed considerable trust in her by giving her those jars of Babackt Yaga’s paste. She’d follow the advice concerning Bagaturckt. She’d hide her emotions, put up with his depravity, hope Babackt Yaga’s birth-control paste actually worked, and wait for him to dispose of her.

Bagaturckt returned to the ‘graveyard of virtue’ a few hours later, after Danka had the chance to eat, rest, and accustom herself to her unpleasant circumstances. He ordered her to get on her elbows and knees on the edge of the bed and hold that position. He roughly fondled her sore vulva and shoved his fingers into her vagina. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, but stayed quiet.

“Hmmm, not much blood. Looks like you’ve healed.”

“Yes, Master Bagaturckt.”

In a flash of inspiration, Danka decided to call her lover “Master Bagaturckt” instead of “Bagaturckt”. She would distance herself as much as she could every time she had to talk to him. She would address him with the formal form of “you” instead of the familiar form, once again, as a means of establishing social distance. She would be obedient in the same way a servant had to be obedient, but she would be cold and indifferent around him. She would consider herself his servant, not his lover.

He took off his clothes and roughly took her from behind. The experience was painful for Danka, because she was not aroused and still was recovering from losing her virginity the night before. However, except for a few grunts, she did not make any noise. Frustrated by the lack of emotion, he grabbed the strap and hit her across her upturned bottom. She cried out each time she was hit, but struggled to keep still and keep her crying to a minimum.

“So you enjoy the strap, my little slut?”

“I am here to please you, Master Bagaturckt. My body is for you to enjoy. What I want doesn’t matter, does it?”

Bagaturckt was at a loss how to proceed. He had wanted to further humiliate the penitent, and then drag her before his friends, to break her and make her cry even more. The seminary student had been a lot of fun; crying, praying, insisting that she loved him, and totally incredulous over everything he did to her. It seemed the peasant girl wasn’t falling for any of that. She would not resist anything he wanted to do to her, but she would obey him as a mistreated servant, not as a hurt lover. Her attitude about having sex with him would be exactly the same as if she were ordered to sweep the floor or gut a chicken.

He ordered her to lick his penis. She obeyed and managed to get an erection out of him. He pushed her to the bed and entered her. She lay quietly, neither cooperating nor resisting, as she waited for him to finish. She thought to herself - I just have to get through this. Just get through it. A month, the house servant told me it’ll be a month. I hope it’s not any more than that.

Bagaturckt was completely disappointed. He left the room and did not return until sunrise the next day. He went out drinking with his friends and did not mention the peasant girl he had deflowered and who was still locked up in the guest bedroom. With her quiet sullen obedience, it was very possible the others would have made fun of him had he attempted to pass her around.

Bagaturckt decided to head into the mountains a couple of days sooner than he had originally planned. Breaking the peasant girl had turned out to not be nearly as much fun as he anticipated. However, as much as he wanted to get rid of her, he still needed an assistant to accompany him into the mountains, to attend to things such as cooking and grooming the horses while he searched for his mysterious mushrooms.

The couple rode into the hills overlooking Severckt nad Goradki. The view was exciting: rolling sheep pastures rising higher and higher, leading up to the dark forest beyond. The day was beautiful and clear, allowing Danka to look south and observe the entire central region of the Duchy. She could see portions of the Rika Chorna River in the distance and, if she had a telescope with her, she would have been able to make out Rika Heckt-nemat and Starivktaki Moskt. It was fascinating to be able to see so much at once. For a few moments she enjoyed herself as she managed to ignore the fact she was traveling with a man she loathed.

As they entered the forest, Danka’s attention was turned to keeping up with Bagaturckt and trying to maintain control of a horse without knowing anything about riding. The spectacular view vanished: now there was nothing to look at except huge trees and her companion’s back. They traveled slowly, because Bagaturckt frequently stopped to look at a compass, consult a map, or write some comments in a journal. The terrain became much steeper as the afternoon wore on. Finally, just as the sun was setting, they arrived at clearing with a small alter and a campsite where they would spend their first night.

“Get us enough firewood to make it through sunrise. You are responsible for maintaining it. Also, start a pot of water to boil and fix us a portion of the dry meat in my saddlebag.”

“Yes, Master Bagaturckt.”

Bagaturckt gave Danka an irritated look but said nothing more.

After they ate and Danka washed their utensils, Bagaturckt went to sleep. Danka looked at the sleeping man with complete disdain and hatred. Her acting and the effort to hide her emotions had been perfect, but still she was devastated by what he had done to her and by what he had planned to do to her. Now he was silent and helpless. It was nice to not have to hear his voice or deal with his stupid ideas.

Although her nemesis now was asleep, Danka never contemplated seeking revenge by attacking him. She still considered herself inferior to most of the people surrounding her. She may have become literate over the past year, but she remained an impoverished unmarried young woman with no title, living in a culture dominated by married men who owned property. Regardless of what he had done to her, Bagaturckt remained a “Master” who was socially superior to her. After-all, he was the son of a Senior Priest. It was safe to assume that if she killed him and was caught, she’d face execution regardless of the motives or circumstances. Besides, she could not imagine the Creator was pleased with her, living a life of lies under a fake collar. Maybe what had happened was the Creator’s way of punishing her for all the lies she had told over the past year. Certainly a murder would not improve her prospects in the After-Life.

Another issue weighing on Danka was the reality that she had little experience dealing with men or boys. What she had witnessed during her childhood would not have persuaded her that women had any rights. She was used to seeing her father routinely beat her mother and many of her neighbors doing the same to their wives and daughters. She had no way of knowing whether Bagaturckt’s treatment of her was acceptable in the view of Danubian society. She suspected that it was not, but her past experiences gave her no guidance.

As she tended the fire, the main question in Danka’s mind did not concern Bagaturckt at all. She was more worried about whether or not she should return to the Temple in Starivktaki Moskt. Apart from a safe place to sleep, there was nothing waiting for her there. The seminary student who had mentored her was gone and she had no other close friends. She certainly would never have any respect for the Senior Priest or Senior Priestess, considering they had raised a son who was so depraved and whose soul was so broken. She didn’t want to study for the Priesthood, nor end up like those two older women who had spent most of their lives in the same place and doing the same thing, year after year.

She understood that it would be better not to go back, but if she didn’t, then what should she do?

The following day the couple continued their journey, passing through a forested valley and crossing in front of some spectacular waterfalls. Their trek took them northwest and towards several streambeds. Bagaturckt began searching in earnest for his mushrooms, following maps and copies of journals. A couple of times that day he ordered the peasant girl to get on her hands and knees. He’d take off his pants, enter her, and mercifully was finished within a few minutes. Neither he nor the girl considered it making love. For him it was little more than stress relief, for her it was nothing more than one of her obligations as his servant.

At the end of the second day they made camp in a clearing near a stream. It was an idyllic spot, worthy of a poem. Bagaturckt scribbled one into his journal while the peasant girl collected firewood. As he watched her, he admired her naked body. He decided to include a few lines about her as well, even though he no longer was very interested in her. Still, she could be the source of fantasy and go well into a poem.

Danka started the fire, cooked, and ate a silent meal with Bagaturckt. When he dozed off, she took the utensils to the stream to wash them. She decided to jump in and rinse off. It was a lovely evening, with a moon that was almost full and fireflies dancing in the woods all around her. An occasional bat or swallow passed overhead.

A much larger shape passed over, completely silent. Danka’s heart stopped, because it was way too large to be a bat or swallow. She must have been imagining things. The shape passed over again, this time very close. It looked like a bird, but incredibly large. She tried to figure out where it went as it vanished into the black forest. The bird flew over a third time and landed on a branch near the river. Danka couldn’t run: it seemed the streambed held her feet tight. Whatever that bird was, she’d have to face it or chase it off.

“Hello? Bird? Is that...”

A pair of huge eyes, illuminated by the moonlight, suddenly emerged into the peasant’s view. She was so scared that her knees shook and her breathing became difficult. She felt very cold.

From a distance she heard the hooting of an owl. Then the one close to her answered with a loud hoot that shot straight into the girl’s bones. The eyes, which seemed suspended in the darkness, did not budge. They became the only thing she was able to see. Nothing more than a pair of large hostile eyes.

Then the owl spoke to her. He did not speak through hoots or by making any other sound. He spoke to her soul.

“You know your true Master, Danka Siluckt. It is I.”

“No. I don’t. I don’t know you.”

“Ahhh, but you do, Danka Siluckt. Remember what the scripture says: ‘The Destroyer enters the Realm of the Living through the mouth of the liar’. You will not escape from me, liar.”

Danka said nothing, but the cold terror completely filled her soul. The voice continued:

“You tried to ignore the warning last year. You convinced yourself it was just your imagination. Thought I would just go away. Why would I do that, Danka Siluckt? Why would I just go away and leave you in peace? Why? ... Why? ... Why?...”