Anonymous - Grushenka. Three Times a Woman

Instead, she mounted. The lovers could clearly see how Master Priapus slowly poked his nose into her love-nest. Grushenka bent forward, and giving over her splendid breasts to his grasping hands, made a few firm up and down movements. Then, of a sudden, she bent back.

Opening her knees as wide as possible, she leaned so far back that her elbows almost touched her own heels. Of course the fat master was unable to reach any part of her body in this position, and groaning with excitement, he swore at her to bend forward. He used all the curse words he knew and his short arms waved with helpless strokes through the air. It was a funny picture; the riding girl and the pinioned monster who had to submit to his excitement, though mad to reach her. It was so funny a picture that Nelidowa and Gustavus could not restrain their giggles. The Prince was startled. Who was at the door? He moved and was about to throw his fair rider off to investigate. Grushenka, sensing the danger, threw herself forward, and pressing him into the cushions with her weight, began to smother his face and head with kiss- es and the caresses of her hands. This brought about his crisis. Thus the lovers had time to escape. Of course, the second party, when Grushenka was riding the other way around, could not be observed by them, but as by that time Nelidowa was already squirming under the pressure of her beloved “soldier,” perhaps it did not matter much.

When Prince Sokolow was on one of his estates, the Princess usually contrived to have Gustavus as house guest with them. The Prince was usually building and constructing and Gustavus had become his architect. Therefore there was no reason for misconstruing his presence. The Princess went to her lover's room as soon as Grushenka was with her husband. Great precaution was taken to prevent detection, lest their idyll be destroyed. But in Moscow it was very dangerous to smuggle Gustavus nightly into the palace, so he took a suite not far from the Sokolows', and Nelidowa stole out of the house at night by a small back door and visited him. That is what she had done one night, the dramatic events of which will now be told.

The Prince and Princess had been to a ball. They came home together, she gaily talking; he as usual, saying little. He told her to come to him as soon as she was ready. Entering her room, the Princess called Grushenka and while she changed from her ball gown to a simple street dress, not forgetting to put some perfume under her arms and between her legs, Grushenka left for the bedroom of the Prince. Soon afterwards, Nelidowa departed from the palace. The first encounter between Grushenka and the Prince took place as usual.

Grushenka was a bit lazy and tired that day. In fact she had been sleeping before the couple came back from the ball. Having accomplished her aim, she stretched herself alongside of him and started mechanically preparing for the second encounter. The Prince began, in a muttering way, a conversation. “How did you like the diamond necklace which the Countess of Kolpack was wearing tonight?” he asked. “Ah! Splendid!” replied Grushenka indifferently. “Do you intend to go to the tea-party of Countess Kolpack?” continued the man. “Maybe I will. Maybe I won't,”

Grushenka said, trying to imitate the nonchalant ways of her mistress.

But to her great surprise and fright, the Prince sat suddenly upright, put his one hand on her throat and with the other seized her hair.

“Who is the Countess Kolpack?” he shouted. “Who is she? Who is she?”

Such a countess, in fact, did not exist. “Well, well-” was all Grushenka could mutter under his grip. She felt the game was up. She felt that the question had been a trap. She knew everything was lost.

It was. One of his man-servants had told all to the Prince, who had investigated carefully and learned everything, even knew that at this very minute his cheating wife was in the arms of her lover. But he wanted to make sure. He wanted the facts first hand. “Who are you? Don't lie!” he cried into Grushenka's face, lessening his grip to give her an opportunity to speak. “Who am I-” stuttered the frightened serf-girl. “Well, don't you know your own wife? Have you lost your mind? God forgive me!” and she crossed her heart in great anguish. The gong sounded. The servant, prepared in advance, came in. Grushenka was seated on a chair. The Spanish shoes were brought in and put on her feet. The wooden edges of this instrument, invented during the Inquisition, pressed painfully against the flesh and bones of her nude feet even before the servant started to turn the screws.

The Prince stopped him. He addressed her, almost formally, asking her again to confess who she was. She kept her mouth shut. She bit her lips. A motion from the Prince and the servant made the first turn.

Her feet went numb. The second turn-the pain shot up her body.

Screaming, she twisted in her chair, trying to liberate herself. She was mad with fright and pain, even though the wood had actually not yet cut her skin. Then she gave in. She promised to confess everything; the screw was unloosened, so was her tongue. In a stream of tears, she confessed. When she came to the end, she threw herself at the Prince's feet and begged for mercy, not for herself, but for her poor mistress. He just frowned at her incoherent utterances. He told the servants to lead her away as arranged in advance. She was taken howling and screaming to the torture chamber in the basement. Large torches were set ablaze. She was put on a chair with two arms but no back. Her arms, from the elbows to the wrists, were fastened to the arms of the chair; a leather strap secured her tightly to the corners of the seat. After the two male serfs had done this job, they were uncertain what to do next. They felt her allover, had their jokes with her and discussed whether they should make her service them. While Grushenka had been in the service of her mistress and taken her place with the master, none of the serfs had dared to touch her. But now she seemed doomed. Why shouldn't these servants use her before her bones were broken on the rack! For that was, in their opinion, the least the master would do. Uncertain as the whole affair was, however, they decided to nap until further orders were forthcoming, and they stretched themselves out on the floor in a half sleep. Grushenka looked around. She had plenty of time to observe the gruesome room. Next to her stood a chair similar to the one she was strapped to. All kinds of handles and machinery were underneath the seat, but she could not make out what they were for. In the middle of the room was the flogging block over which she had been laid by Katerina, a kind of saddle on four legs with rings and ropes on it to tie the delinquent in the most receptive position. One wall was covered with all kinds of beating instruments: knouts, leather straps, whips and the like. On the next wall were the racks; ladder-like frames against which the culprit was fastened, while light and heavy bats stood around with which legs or arms could be broken.

Chains and hanging racks, on which the man or woman to be punished was hung in such a way that the arms were twisted backward, completed the outfit of the room, a replica of which existed in the houses of all the masters of that time. While Grushenka observed all these terrors, Prince Sokolow acted according to his plan. He dressed in a Russian blouse and high boots. He had his servants pack his trunks. He then went down to the back entrance through which Nelidowa was to come home. He took a low stool and sat down, watching the door. He sat thus for many hours, motionless, staring at the door, not closing or even blinking an eye. Dawn came, and with it Nelidowa. She entered with light steps, in a hurried and satisfied mood after a good night with her lover. As soon as she closed the door, the short and tremendously strong Prince sprang at her, lifted her high in the air and flung her over his shoulder, her head and the upper part of her body dangling on his back. She uttered a piercing cry. She struggled to liberate herself, not knowing who had seized her. He carried her swiftly to the chamber where Grushenka sat. “Tear the clothes from her body and strap her to that chair!” he commanded the serfs, throwing her in their direction. The Prince sat down on a low bench and waited for his order to be carried out. This was not very easy, for Nelidowa put up a terrific battle. She swore at the servants, she hit with her fists, she bit, she kicked-all to no avail. Her clothes were torn from her body, one man holding her hands against her back, while the other one removed one garment after the other. First came the skirt, then the trousers and the stockings. As soon as the lower part of her body was naked, one slave put his head between her legs. Holding her feet, he raised himself up and stood straight, so that she hung on his back.