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Mulau
- Thread starter RacingRodent
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- messaline of jin
that is a good friend........................so I can say some moreDont joke with Pope Borgia , hansi, you dont know what you risk !!!
RacingRodent
Consul
that is a good friend........................so I can say some more
Just remember to let him have the last laugh
indeed...........................the very last oneJust remember to let him have the last laugh
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Bravo wragg, you're the winner !Maybe it is that on this site we don't find the image of a beautiful girl on a cross to be 'strange'
Choose one of my Anjou'Calvary'pic and, promise, I dedicace you , handle'made ...!
RacingRodent
Consul
Maybe it is that on this site we don't find the image of a beautiful girl on a cross to be 'strange'
But that doesn't mean we don't appreciate her!
Oh well done Wragg, we were getting a but worried no one had spotted it
Bravo wragg, you're the winner !
Choose one of my Anjou'Calvary'pic and, promise, I dedicace you , handle'made ...!
Well, well, well!
How exciting!
Well this one....
....is both lovely in itself, and it inspired RR to 'Calvary, Calumny, and Conquest' so it has to be une image merveilleuse d'Anjou!
messaline
Crucified Amazon
...so it has to be une image merveilleuse d'Anjou!
Good choice ! I send to you in PM : you could post it if you desire ...
Good choice ! I send to you in PM : you could post it if you desire ...
I do desire!
Look at this!
Lucky Wragg!
RacingRodent
Consul
The Artist’s Eye V
The Masquerade Ball was only a passing distraction thought Paskai discontentedly. The Roman aristocracy and their guests swirled and flattered, danced and gossiped, sampled dainties and drank sweet wines and all the whirl the music twirled. Yet Paskai felt moody, out of sorts, unfocused and above all unhappy and the reason she could not quite put her finger on.
Then things looked up. A young woman swirled among the other dancers her dress breath taking and outrageously daring in the room, beneath a gilded mask there fluttered only wisps of gauze and some wisps of more opaque white silk that left the promise of modesty unfulfilled and as each twirl and contortion of the dance expose one breast or the other to the gaze of the onlookers. Paskai watched transfixed and yet it seemed quite by chance that the woman after yet another cavorting turn appeared in front of her, delicately breathless and flushed under her mask.
“My Lady, I beg your assistance my quartet has become a threesome, we have lost our Cleopatra and we need a woman of grace and refinement to take her place,” Breathed the ruby lips beneath the gilded mask.
“I would be delighted but I am not sure I know this dance,” Paskai meant to delicately refuse but the other woman took her words as acceptance.
“Oh it is quite easy, just do as I do, by now everyone is quite drunk so you will dance better than most,” The other woman smiled, “I see you are dressed as Athena, I must say I think you would make a splendid Aphrodite.”
“Thank you,” Paskai found herself very close to the warmth and perfume of her companion, “Who are you dressed as?”
“Oh the once evil but now quite acceptable Lucrezia Borgia, she had the most wicked body when she was young, now all she does is pump out babies for the Duke of Ferrera,” Laughed the false ‘Lucrezia’.
“You have a most desir…delectable body too,” Said Paskai.
“Why thank you,” Replied her companion.
“Hum, is it allowed that women dance alone?” Asked Paskai, unsure of quite where their male cohorts had gotten to in the swirl.
“Oh the men are ready when needed but they know I like my space and they know my tastes,” Said Not Lucrezia.
“Your tastes?” Asked Paskai.
“I like a little sin and I like a little poison,” The women in the gilded mask held up a small bottle that hung on a gold chain about her neck. She took a drink and offered the bottle to Paskai.
“You know many poisoners practice becoming immune to their preferred toxin,” Cautioned Paskai.
“Well I must admit I do but this is just a little tonic…to enhance the mood,” ‘Lucrezia’ prevailed on Paskai as much with the glint of mischief in her eyes as her words, Paskai took a sip of some rough but intoxicating spirit and was rewarded with the charming view of the bottle’s secret resting place, between the other woman’s libidinous breasts.
“Oh I think I am drunk already,” Breathed Paskai.
“Maybe we should go sit down, somewhere, a little bit private,” Offered her wanton companion.
Mulau was bored already the first time some silly young man came up to her and declared “Guess who I am or I shall steal a kiss.” The beardless boys did not even seem to kiss well and her mother had disappeared of dancing somewhere which meant Mulau could not ask permission to go home, these parties was for big, rather boring children, Mulau would rather have been practicing with her sword or even one of the Italian variety, which was the least boring homework she tended to be given for an evening.
Then two men in the stripy costumes of the Swiss Guard approached her. “Lady Mulau, we carry a message from your mother Lady Paskai, she commands your immediate attendance,” One told her.
“Well finally she remembers she has a daughter, maybe we can get out of here, where is she now?” Mulau asked.
“We shall show you the way,” The guardsman said while his companion just nodded. Mulau was content to follow them out of sequence of ball rooms, across one painted gallery, then another, into a more austere hallway that nevertheless was lined with skilfully engraved stonework and then into another painted room. Mulau was about to ask how much further when as she passed yet another set of doors someone put a bag over her head and when she reached to get it off her hands were grabbed and bound and then a larger sack forced over the top. Then she was picked up and carried bodily writhing like a very angry worm all the while and yelling fit to burst though she suspected the heavy sacking left her a bit muffled.
She indistinctly heard something about it being by order of a Cardinal Sciurido when those handling her were challenged. Then she was set down and the sack and then the bag pulled off her head. She had just time to make out what looked awfully like a dungeon before her bound arms were sized and she found herself hanging by her wrists from a hook in the ceiling.
“Excellent, now strip just her top half, then we’ll do her bottoms too and then I will want to draw her with whip marks,” Said a voice cheerfully.
“My mother will kill you for this, I’ll kill you, she’ll flay you alive and then geld you and then I’ll kill you,” Squawked Mulau.
“Oh don’t be such a goose you and your mother will be well rewarded, but do that wriggle again, I like the shape when you arch so, can you hold that pose? No? Shame still just a moment I think I can get it down from memory…” Said a man who was sat in a corner of the dungeon making quick strokes with charcoal on some vellum of which he appeared to have leaves and leaves.
“Who the hell are you?” Asked Mulau twisting round to try and get a better look at the man, to her annoyance her latest pose seemed to delight him even more than all the others judging by the look on his arrogant yet somewhat handsome face under a mop of blond hair.
“I am Alessandro di Mariano di Vanni Filipepi,” The man puffed up his chest.
“Who Fel pep thingy?” Asked Mulau.
“Oh you probably better know of me as…”The man sighed and told her a name more familiar to history.
“So who are you?” Paskai was sat in a cushioned and artfully curtained alcove away from the hustle and bustle and delightfully intimately close to the stranger.
“I am just a great admirer of yours,” Breathed Not Lucrezia, “Would you like another drink?” She poured the last of her bottle over her breasts.
“I believe I do,” Said Paskai closing her lips over a nipple while the other woman arched back her neck and growled in arousal.
The Masquerade Ball was only a passing distraction thought Paskai discontentedly. The Roman aristocracy and their guests swirled and flattered, danced and gossiped, sampled dainties and drank sweet wines and all the whirl the music twirled. Yet Paskai felt moody, out of sorts, unfocused and above all unhappy and the reason she could not quite put her finger on.
Then things looked up. A young woman swirled among the other dancers her dress breath taking and outrageously daring in the room, beneath a gilded mask there fluttered only wisps of gauze and some wisps of more opaque white silk that left the promise of modesty unfulfilled and as each twirl and contortion of the dance expose one breast or the other to the gaze of the onlookers. Paskai watched transfixed and yet it seemed quite by chance that the woman after yet another cavorting turn appeared in front of her, delicately breathless and flushed under her mask.
“My Lady, I beg your assistance my quartet has become a threesome, we have lost our Cleopatra and we need a woman of grace and refinement to take her place,” Breathed the ruby lips beneath the gilded mask.
“I would be delighted but I am not sure I know this dance,” Paskai meant to delicately refuse but the other woman took her words as acceptance.
“Oh it is quite easy, just do as I do, by now everyone is quite drunk so you will dance better than most,” The other woman smiled, “I see you are dressed as Athena, I must say I think you would make a splendid Aphrodite.”
“Thank you,” Paskai found herself very close to the warmth and perfume of her companion, “Who are you dressed as?”
“Oh the once evil but now quite acceptable Lucrezia Borgia, she had the most wicked body when she was young, now all she does is pump out babies for the Duke of Ferrera,” Laughed the false ‘Lucrezia’.
“You have a most desir…delectable body too,” Said Paskai.
“Why thank you,” Replied her companion.
“Hum, is it allowed that women dance alone?” Asked Paskai, unsure of quite where their male cohorts had gotten to in the swirl.
“Oh the men are ready when needed but they know I like my space and they know my tastes,” Said Not Lucrezia.
“Your tastes?” Asked Paskai.
“I like a little sin and I like a little poison,” The women in the gilded mask held up a small bottle that hung on a gold chain about her neck. She took a drink and offered the bottle to Paskai.
“You know many poisoners practice becoming immune to their preferred toxin,” Cautioned Paskai.
“Well I must admit I do but this is just a little tonic…to enhance the mood,” ‘Lucrezia’ prevailed on Paskai as much with the glint of mischief in her eyes as her words, Paskai took a sip of some rough but intoxicating spirit and was rewarded with the charming view of the bottle’s secret resting place, between the other woman’s libidinous breasts.
“Oh I think I am drunk already,” Breathed Paskai.
“Maybe we should go sit down, somewhere, a little bit private,” Offered her wanton companion.
Mulau was bored already the first time some silly young man came up to her and declared “Guess who I am or I shall steal a kiss.” The beardless boys did not even seem to kiss well and her mother had disappeared of dancing somewhere which meant Mulau could not ask permission to go home, these parties was for big, rather boring children, Mulau would rather have been practicing with her sword or even one of the Italian variety, which was the least boring homework she tended to be given for an evening.
Then two men in the stripy costumes of the Swiss Guard approached her. “Lady Mulau, we carry a message from your mother Lady Paskai, she commands your immediate attendance,” One told her.
“Well finally she remembers she has a daughter, maybe we can get out of here, where is she now?” Mulau asked.
“We shall show you the way,” The guardsman said while his companion just nodded. Mulau was content to follow them out of sequence of ball rooms, across one painted gallery, then another, into a more austere hallway that nevertheless was lined with skilfully engraved stonework and then into another painted room. Mulau was about to ask how much further when as she passed yet another set of doors someone put a bag over her head and when she reached to get it off her hands were grabbed and bound and then a larger sack forced over the top. Then she was picked up and carried bodily writhing like a very angry worm all the while and yelling fit to burst though she suspected the heavy sacking left her a bit muffled.
She indistinctly heard something about it being by order of a Cardinal Sciurido when those handling her were challenged. Then she was set down and the sack and then the bag pulled off her head. She had just time to make out what looked awfully like a dungeon before her bound arms were sized and she found herself hanging by her wrists from a hook in the ceiling.
“Excellent, now strip just her top half, then we’ll do her bottoms too and then I will want to draw her with whip marks,” Said a voice cheerfully.
“My mother will kill you for this, I’ll kill you, she’ll flay you alive and then geld you and then I’ll kill you,” Squawked Mulau.
“Oh don’t be such a goose you and your mother will be well rewarded, but do that wriggle again, I like the shape when you arch so, can you hold that pose? No? Shame still just a moment I think I can get it down from memory…” Said a man who was sat in a corner of the dungeon making quick strokes with charcoal on some vellum of which he appeared to have leaves and leaves.
“Who the hell are you?” Asked Mulau twisting round to try and get a better look at the man, to her annoyance her latest pose seemed to delight him even more than all the others judging by the look on his arrogant yet somewhat handsome face under a mop of blond hair.
“I am Alessandro di Mariano di Vanni Filipepi,” The man puffed up his chest.
“Who Fel pep thingy?” Asked Mulau.
“Oh you probably better know of me as…”The man sighed and told her a name more familiar to history.
“So who are you?” Paskai was sat in a cushioned and artfully curtained alcove away from the hustle and bustle and delightfully intimately close to the stranger.
“I am just a great admirer of yours,” Breathed Not Lucrezia, “Would you like another drink?” She poured the last of her bottle over her breasts.
“I believe I do,” Said Paskai closing her lips over a nipple while the other woman arched back her neck and growled in arousal.
To Be Continued
RacingRodent
Consul
The Artist’s Eye VI
The whip whispered as it curled through the air before landing upon Mulau’s bared skin with a resounding crack, curling around her ribs and under her arm its end caressed a nipple with a bite like a stinging wasp. “Aieee, I’ll cut your balls off when I get down from here,” Mulau called.
“Patience girl,” Replied Botticelli, which was a lot easier name to remember than all those di di fel bits and pieces, “Cardinal Sciurido is a good Christian and always demands that the models for hs artworks are paid fair trade prices, you and your mother will be well remunerated.”
“You leave my mother out of this!” Snapped Mulau sweat beading her skin, her back crisscrossed half a dozen times with red stripes, including a very tender one across her buttocks.
“I assure you no harm will come to her only His Eminence likes to watch beautiful woman, ah, entertain each other…”
“Your breasts are so ripe, could kiss your breast’s all evening,” Said Not Lucrezia as she swirled her tongue across the underside of first one and then the other of Paskai’s heaving bosoms.
“I have other parts to kiss,” Husked Paskai.
“So true,” Agreed the other woman, her mouth working its wanton way across Paskai’s belly while hands stroked flanks and legs, “I must kiss all of you,” She turned Paskai onto her front and kissed between her shoulder blades. Paskai moaned and heaved back into her companion’s touch, she caught and thrust the woman’s right hand to the damp spot between her legs.
“Argh yes, oh yes, there, there I need it there,” She gasped and shuddered.
“I will cut off your balls if you don’t let me down and take me to my mother right now,” Mulau shrieked as her turn to face Botticelli resulted in the guardsman’s whip striking across her belly, “And I’ll cut out your eyes and stuff his ball in your face if you don’t stop whipping me!” She yelled at the Swiss.
“My Lady, my dear Lady calm down, you are creating art, most sacred art that will be appreciated by the highest Cardinals of the Vatican,” Botticelli assured her, “In addition you will be paid a most princely sum for your time and effort, oh worthy woman, I shall immortalise your fire in tempura!”
“I’ll still cut off you balls,” Mulau told him, though she felt a little intrigued about the idea of becoming art.
“Well how about we first stop whipping you and then I will show you my drawings and then then,” Botticelli was in the middle of this conversational gambit when the door flew open Doretja and Little Fox bounded through swords bared, “Ah welcome ladies, please wait a moment we were just about to release your charming friend.”
“And then we shall cut off your balls,” Doretja told him sweetly.
“What is this Turkish week, why is everyone so obsessed with making me a eunuch?” Asked Botticelli sounding vexed.
“Perhaps because you are busy kidnapping their young daughters for unsavoury purposes?” Huffed da Vinci who was bringing up the rear of the rescue party, a sword held with perhaps a little less certainty than the others, further doubt crept into the man’s eyes as he took in the uniforms of the guards and the fact they had yet to go for their swords.
“Nonsense, I am kidnapping no one, I merely detained and restrained the beautiful Princess Mulau for erotic and artistic effect in order to create a work worth of a Prince of the Church, come look at these drawing, see the line of her shoulder, the turn of her spine, truly God’s artistry made manifest.”
“I say these are actually rather good and I had heard you were just a daubing hack,” Said Da Vinci leaving Botticelli looking unsure whether to be pleased or insulted.
“Hey let me look,” Demanded Mulau.
“Oh yes, set her down and cut her loose,” Botticelli waved at a guardsman. The man did so and as soon as she was free was rewarded by a Mulau extra-special kick in the balls. He was wearing a leather codpiece so she hurt her toes but he crumpled up with a very satisfying whimper.
“I do say, those are rather good,” Said Mulau after she had looked over them a moment.
“So I can keep my balls?” Asked Botticelli.
“Hum, well,” Mulau punched him in the face, “That depends how much gold there is and how well you paint.” She grinned and then kicked him in the delicates for good measure.
“Oh you taste so wonderful, yes such a beauty,” Paskai told her lover as now her own lips delved the parting petals surrounding that woman’s sweetness.
She did not expect to hear some man say of a sudden, “They did what?”
With that Paskai leapt and tore down the intervening curtain. Sat in a throne was a little man in a red cardinal’s habit. Paskai uncaring of her nakedness strode over and grabbed him by the throat. Instantly a half dozen swords were at hers and more were shining in the hands of a platoon of Swiss Guards.
“What is the meaning of this outrage?” Asked Paskai uncaring of the danger.
“Well I enjoy beautiful women getting it on, beautiful Princesses even more so, it seemed too good a chance to miss,” Replied the man sweating a little, “By the way since I am a Cardinal you are supposed to kiss my ring on being presented to me.”
“I should kick your arse,” Roared Paskai and shook him a little, he waved away the guards.
“Cardinal Sciurido at your service Your Highness, now if you would calm down and observe the formalities I can explain how I intend to make you modestly wealthy,” The priest smiled.
“Since your behaviour has been so rude that had better be immodestly wealthy,” Paskai glared but released the man’s throat.
“I say mother have you seen these pictures the Cardinal ordered made of me, aren’t they amazing?” Mulau no somewhat better dressed came bounding up, a thoughtful Da Vinci and a wincing Botticelli following in her path.
“You did what?” Paskai had her hands around Cardinal Sciurido’s neck again and was shaking him for good measure.
“I think God means for this to be a long night,” Said Sciurido provoking an amused but slightly enigmatic smile from Mulau.
“I wonder if I could capture that smile in a painting?” Though da Vinci assessing Mulau properly for the first time with his artist’s eye.
To Be Continued
The whip whispered as it curled through the air before landing upon Mulau’s bared skin with a resounding crack, curling around her ribs and under her arm its end caressed a nipple with a bite like a stinging wasp. “Aieee, I’ll cut your balls off when I get down from here,” Mulau called.
“Patience girl,” Replied Botticelli, which was a lot easier name to remember than all those di di fel bits and pieces, “Cardinal Sciurido is a good Christian and always demands that the models for hs artworks are paid fair trade prices, you and your mother will be well remunerated.”
“You leave my mother out of this!” Snapped Mulau sweat beading her skin, her back crisscrossed half a dozen times with red stripes, including a very tender one across her buttocks.
“I assure you no harm will come to her only His Eminence likes to watch beautiful woman, ah, entertain each other…”
“Your breasts are so ripe, could kiss your breast’s all evening,” Said Not Lucrezia as she swirled her tongue across the underside of first one and then the other of Paskai’s heaving bosoms.
“I have other parts to kiss,” Husked Paskai.
“So true,” Agreed the other woman, her mouth working its wanton way across Paskai’s belly while hands stroked flanks and legs, “I must kiss all of you,” She turned Paskai onto her front and kissed between her shoulder blades. Paskai moaned and heaved back into her companion’s touch, she caught and thrust the woman’s right hand to the damp spot between her legs.
“Argh yes, oh yes, there, there I need it there,” She gasped and shuddered.
“I will cut off your balls if you don’t let me down and take me to my mother right now,” Mulau shrieked as her turn to face Botticelli resulted in the guardsman’s whip striking across her belly, “And I’ll cut out your eyes and stuff his ball in your face if you don’t stop whipping me!” She yelled at the Swiss.
“My Lady, my dear Lady calm down, you are creating art, most sacred art that will be appreciated by the highest Cardinals of the Vatican,” Botticelli assured her, “In addition you will be paid a most princely sum for your time and effort, oh worthy woman, I shall immortalise your fire in tempura!”
“I’ll still cut off you balls,” Mulau told him, though she felt a little intrigued about the idea of becoming art.
“Well how about we first stop whipping you and then I will show you my drawings and then then,” Botticelli was in the middle of this conversational gambit when the door flew open Doretja and Little Fox bounded through swords bared, “Ah welcome ladies, please wait a moment we were just about to release your charming friend.”
“And then we shall cut off your balls,” Doretja told him sweetly.
“What is this Turkish week, why is everyone so obsessed with making me a eunuch?” Asked Botticelli sounding vexed.
“Perhaps because you are busy kidnapping their young daughters for unsavoury purposes?” Huffed da Vinci who was bringing up the rear of the rescue party, a sword held with perhaps a little less certainty than the others, further doubt crept into the man’s eyes as he took in the uniforms of the guards and the fact they had yet to go for their swords.
“Nonsense, I am kidnapping no one, I merely detained and restrained the beautiful Princess Mulau for erotic and artistic effect in order to create a work worth of a Prince of the Church, come look at these drawing, see the line of her shoulder, the turn of her spine, truly God’s artistry made manifest.”
“I say these are actually rather good and I had heard you were just a daubing hack,” Said Da Vinci leaving Botticelli looking unsure whether to be pleased or insulted.
“Hey let me look,” Demanded Mulau.
“Oh yes, set her down and cut her loose,” Botticelli waved at a guardsman. The man did so and as soon as she was free was rewarded by a Mulau extra-special kick in the balls. He was wearing a leather codpiece so she hurt her toes but he crumpled up with a very satisfying whimper.
“I do say, those are rather good,” Said Mulau after she had looked over them a moment.
“So I can keep my balls?” Asked Botticelli.
“Hum, well,” Mulau punched him in the face, “That depends how much gold there is and how well you paint.” She grinned and then kicked him in the delicates for good measure.
“Oh you taste so wonderful, yes such a beauty,” Paskai told her lover as now her own lips delved the parting petals surrounding that woman’s sweetness.
She did not expect to hear some man say of a sudden, “They did what?”
With that Paskai leapt and tore down the intervening curtain. Sat in a throne was a little man in a red cardinal’s habit. Paskai uncaring of her nakedness strode over and grabbed him by the throat. Instantly a half dozen swords were at hers and more were shining in the hands of a platoon of Swiss Guards.
“What is the meaning of this outrage?” Asked Paskai uncaring of the danger.
“Well I enjoy beautiful women getting it on, beautiful Princesses even more so, it seemed too good a chance to miss,” Replied the man sweating a little, “By the way since I am a Cardinal you are supposed to kiss my ring on being presented to me.”
“I should kick your arse,” Roared Paskai and shook him a little, he waved away the guards.
“Cardinal Sciurido at your service Your Highness, now if you would calm down and observe the formalities I can explain how I intend to make you modestly wealthy,” The priest smiled.
“Since your behaviour has been so rude that had better be immodestly wealthy,” Paskai glared but released the man’s throat.
“I say mother have you seen these pictures the Cardinal ordered made of me, aren’t they amazing?” Mulau no somewhat better dressed came bounding up, a thoughtful Da Vinci and a wincing Botticelli following in her path.
“You did what?” Paskai had her hands around Cardinal Sciurido’s neck again and was shaking him for good measure.
“I think God means for this to be a long night,” Said Sciurido provoking an amused but slightly enigmatic smile from Mulau.
“I wonder if I could capture that smile in a painting?” Though da Vinci assessing Mulau properly for the first time with his artist’s eye.
To Be Continued
RacingRodent
Consul
They do seem to be getting much love here....maybe because they are so often the villains everywhere else?
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Perhaps that we soon are near a "scoop" ! Who was really "La Joconde" ?
This squirrel doesn't give up nothing to express his so-called History'knowledge ...... but my daughter is so ....pretty !
RacingRodent
Consul
RacingRodent
Consul
Another superb episode from the dynamic duo!
Thank you muchly
It can be fun to write but I really enjoy having Messa put in the hours to bring the story to life in pictures.View attachment 302491 This squirrel doesn't give up nothing to express his so-called History'knowledge ...
I should warn readers that this particular set of tales does play around somewhat with established history. Events are compressed and rearranged to allow for a better fit for the adventures of certain Princesses
But the real history is worth the trouble and the time to investigate