Marcus van Heller - The House of Borgia, book1

Lucrezia took a deep breath behind her veil of mock tears.

“But, Holy Father, the main trouble has come after the event. I told you I was having difficulty about Good and Evil. Well… I find, now, that I'm beset with overwhelming desires to repeat what happened. I do my best to overcome them, but I'm likely to give way at any moment.”

“I see — I see.”

Innocent's hand moved slightly on his prick. He felt very disturbed. This was better and better, but the thought that he couldn't take advantage of it was killing him.

“Have you seen the young man since?”

“No, your Excellency. I do all in my power to keep away from him. But I feel the desire with any man — oh I know it's terrible. You must think I'm unbelievably wicked.”

“Not at all, my child, not at all,” Innocent reassured her. That hand in mine is so near, he was thinking. I could just take it and put it on my prick under the sheets. It would take about two seconds in time and mean moving it a distance of thirty centimeters.

“You have had an experience,” he said, “which was bound to shake you to your roots. It has opened up a whole new channel of experience…” He grinned to himself at his words. “And, naturally given you a desire for sensations and emotional experiences that you hardly realized existed. We all have these desires, my dear. Don't think you are alone.”

“But what must I do?” Lucrezia pleaded.

She could see his erection through the sheets and the coverlets. So papa had been right. He would want to. So far, very good. But now she had to take what chances came to her. She rested her head against his shoulder so that her lightly perfumed hair was brushing against his face. Leaning forward toward him, she was able to expose much more of her bosom — showing him more than a third of their rounded fullness.

“It is probable,” the Pope said slowly, “that you've built up a myth around this one occasion when you made love. And because it seems so unholy and wicked to you, you therefore, in your deprivation, desire it the more — a very natural reaction.

“In very few cases would I suggest this course of cure. But you know, to overcome a greater, even God will allow a lesser evil. So it may be that if you permitted yourself intercourse just once again — and without any feeling of wrongdoing to add to the excitement — you would get the whole necessity out of your system. At least, you would rid yourself of its full power as you now feel it and would pave the way to a beginning at controlling it. This may seem a very strange recommendation, but reflect, my lamb, that the ways of God are often strange beyond belief — but always with the end in mind. If, by this means, you can help to overcome the acuteness of your desires and thus, eventually, overcome them completely, you will have taken the right and only course. If you go on as you are you will either go mad or give way again and again until you are no better than the lowest whore.”

There was a long silence after his words. Lucrezia let her hand slip from his and flop against his thigh, as if accidentally, in weariness. She could feel his skinny thigh under the coverlet — and against the side of her hand she could feel the rising bulge of his erection. Knowledge of his desire had given her course to be bold.

“I thank you, Holy Father. I'm sure your advice is good. And as it is your advice I'm willing to follow it with a glad heart — even though of my own willing the idea must have seemed wrong to me. I see that it may well be the only way. But there is one thing that frightens me still.”

“What is that, my child?”

“Holy Father, it's just something I feel. It hardly makes sense. But I'd know that it was simply lust in the man with whom I made love. I'd know that although I was trying to purge myself, that he was on a different plane simply using me as an object of his passion. Although I could have holy aims and thoughts about what I was doing, it would shame me that the man would feel completely differently.”

The Pope turned this over in his mind, gloating, playing cat with the mouse, unaware that he was being outplayed, that his thoughts were being directed along channels which would lead to the inevitable. Amidst his thoughts he was aware of her hand against his erection, the slight pressure making him involuntarily strain the mast up against her hand, trusting that she wouldn't realize what was happening.

“I think I could only do it, now, after what you've said, with someone who knew why I was doing it and sympathized and made love to me with the intention of curing my desires,” Lucrezia told him.

“For that you would need the holiest of men,” said the Pope innocently.

“Yes,” Lucrezia replied from his shoulder, “the holiest of men.”

She raised her head and stared into his eyes for several seconds.

The Pope felt her words sinking into his mind like a physical force. They startled and excited him — and her look heightened the effect. He was sure, now, that it would be a simple matter. The girl was very susceptible; she would really imagine she was ridding herself of evil.

Slowly he looked at her breasts again. How lovely they would look swinging free to the air. And her body! What would her body be like? And how would her face look screwed up and lost in passion. His hand clenched over his erection in a fierce surge of emotion. He couldn't pass up such an opportunity — even if it was the last thing he did. The last thing! He wondered. But doctors always exaggerated. It was part of their business to frighten the patient into submission. And surely he wouldn't feel so much like having intercourse with her if it were likely to do him any real harm.

Lucrezia had seen the lust in Innocent's eyes. She had very nearly won. She wondered what it would be like with such an old man, but the thought didn't appall her — in fact she rather liked the idea of being screwed by fatherly old men. The contrast between their balding heads, her golden locks, her young, firm body and their slack flesh added to her excitement, made the whole thing seem less permissible.

Without looking up she raised her hand to her cheek and then allowed it to drop back casually onto the bed-onto his stiff penis. She could feel the bulge under her hand and she felt him tense with her touch.

The Pope felt his breath rise up through his body, as if from his loins, strangling him in a weight of emotion. This was it; this was the moment of choice — but it was already too late to choose. Knowing the inevitable he nonetheless raced through a number of arguments in his mind against having her. But now her fingers were moving gently on his penis, stabbing it with needles of fire and she had raised her eyes to his again, was looking deeply into him as if she knew the depths of his soul.

“You are the holiest of men,” she whispered. And her mouth opened gently and her eyes closed as if she were overcome at the awe the thought inspired.

He seized her then and drew her up to him.

“We will drive the evil out of you,” he said with a voice he could hardly control. “Together we will prove the strength of the Lord.” Inside he burned with excitement and laughed madly at his hypocritical words. He would do it. He would screw her young-girl flesh, fill her young-girl passage with his holy mace — if it was his very last act he would do it.

“I will do anything you think should be done,” Lucrezia whispered, with a fine show of youthful, feminine weakness. So saying she pressed her breasts into him and pushed her young body alongside his in a sign of submission.

Innocent's lips trembled with lust. He tried to think clearly for a moment, forcing his thoughts away from a desire to rip her clothes from her with his ebbing strength.