Countess Bathory

I am not an evil woman, although the history books will probably depict me thus. More misled I think, vain certainly, weak, perhaps. But before I die, entombed alive in this prison cell, I will tell my story and may it haunt you for all your mortal days, a warning to those who embrace greed and ambition. My tale begins in Hungary where I was born in 1561, I was a beautiful child with long flaxen hair, the cosseted and pampered daughter of a rich nobleman. By the time I had reached the age of eighteen, I was a much sought after commodity to the aristocratic Lords who would have taken me to wife and paraded me as a prize mare before their rivals. But, (and I smile) I had other plans, plans of riches beyond my wildest dreams, of a handsome husband who would spread my pretty thighs with reverence and devotion and plans of a castle past compare, where I would be Mistress and all others would envy and revere me. It was power I wanted and it was power that I got!

A little past my nineteenth birthday, a handsome stranger rode into my village and came directly to my home in search of Father. I can remember now it was the first time I had ever experienced lust in its purest form. As I peered from behind the drapes, my loins danced and then melted at the sight of this imposing aristocrat. His hair was jet black, captured in a long plait which fell down his broad back, his features were hard and chiselled, eyes like flints and a sensual but cruel mouth which smiled sardonically as he spoke. Cerdic was his name and to the incredible joy of this pretty, misguided fool, he was here for my hand in marriage. That night before I slept, my hands crept under the folds of my nightgown and stroked the soft crisp curls between my legs, imagining those hands belonged to him, his hands, his lips......

And so we were married. My groom was perhaps a little quiet but in my head I had built up a wonderful fantasy that nothing would spoil and if he looked at me without the love and kindness I had expected, it was because he was a brave warrior who was unused to the frivolities and fancies of a spoilt and wilful maiden. His ice blue eyes were cold and unforthcoming but he was politeness itself and his very manners beguiled and intrigued me. We journeyed for days until we were deep in the Carpathian mountains, where Castle Cseijthe awaited me and my heart sang for joy that I had my goal, my dream, I had everything.

It grows cold at night in my little cell, so cold that my hands and bare feet grow numb and the rags that I now wear bring no heat either to my skeletal body or my blackened soul. Sometimes they push scraps of food through the bars which I snatch for like an animal before the rats can get them and as my strength diminishes, the past grows clearer. I am seventeen again with my whole life ahead of me. I am immortal....

Lord Cerdic had not as yet touched me intimately telling me he would make our first night special when we were safely ensconced in our own home and although my first impressions of Castle Cseijthe were of bleakness how could anything have possibly burst the happy bubble which hovered around me. But burst it did. And on my wedding night of all nights. The beginning of the end.......

After a late supper, we retired to the Master Chamber where a fire burned merrily in the hearth, old tapestries warmed the room with their colour and a huge bed awaited with lush materials. Finally alone, I was bade to strip which I did, nervous yet strangely breathless with excitement, the moment I had longed for - the handsome lover who would fondle and caress me, make love to me and worship me.Oh such love and awe I felt in my young heart which beat frantically beneath my bare bosom. The very bosom for which he now reached and squeezed painfully, raking sharp nails into the soft flawless white skin, causing me to scream aloud in pain and anguish. My screams earned me a vicious slap across the face and I tasted blood in my mouth, a sweet metallic taste and for of the rest of that cruel night I have no real memory save for pain the likes of which I could only have envisaged in the very fires of hell. And thus I entered those flames, the screaming,the cruel mocking laughter, the blood and by dawn.......the hatred.

In time the bruises faded and his visits became less frequent as he grew bored with my submission and slaked his thirst elsewhere. The castle was a dark and sombre place, the servants lived in fear,as did I and they never stayed long sometimes disappearing mysteriously overnight whereupon it was agreed by the Master that they had run away in their sloth and idleness. But at last the sun came out over the Carpathians and he was off to battle to fight against the Turks and I had my freedom and strangely a newfelt sense of power and sensuality. I would wander the castle grounds enjoying the sound of my own voice as I barked orders at the peasants watching them scuttle around me in their haste to do my bidding.

The dark shadows of Death grow closer now, wrapping their icy fingers around me, pulling at me and I welcome them with open arms but I will linger yet awhile in this world of misery to finish my tale.

I had been alone without any civilised companionship for some years now and was delighted that Cerdic's visits home were now fleeting. My body by my mid twenties was physical perfection, soft, white, lithe with a full bosom and a narrow waist and only myself to enjoy it. At night I would spread my legs and stroke my nipples, retreating back in my imagination that it was anothers hands doing the touching.I was at my sexual peak and growing bitter and restless without the stimulation I needed.

One day as I passed the servant's quarters, one of the doors to the cabins was slightly ajar. It was the sound of a girl singing softly that drew my attention and I walked in, lured by the sweet sound. She stood naked in a basin of water washing herself with a towel and soap and she was lovely. For only the second time in my life I felt the scorching white heat of pure desire again, I wanted to touch and explore her but could see that she was frightened, which strangely made me feel even more excited. I had my manservant throw a cloak around her shivering body and deliver her to the Master Chamber where I waited, a fierce heat rising within my sex at the thought of owning her. And I did not hurt her. Oh no. I gave her pleasure. I parted the sweet lips of her sex with my tongue and pulled at her breasts feeling her writhe and shudder beneath me and when she was spent, I lowered my own sex to hers and rubbed against her until my body exploded into a beautiful new world. She remained by my side all that summer until Cerdic came home in the fall. I never saw her again...

In an unnatural act of kindness, Cerdic had brought me a lady companion, who although she was of Romany descent, had been educated by a local nobleman in her village and brought up to be a lady as his wife had never borne children of her own. Her name was Dorotta Szentes but she was known as Dorka and I warmed to her instantly. With my husband's timely departure, my bruises faded again and I was happy with my new friend and confidante. I confided in her my loneliness, my passion and my dalliance with the young servant girl who had vanished. Dorka smiled a secret smile and agreed there was no harm in easing these burdens in the arms of other women. So gradually more and more young girls were introduced as serving maids to the castle from the surrounding area and I was surrounded by beauty and colour. Up to five or six of the wenches would sleep in my bed at a time and when we woke it was for play and love. Sometimes it would be fierce and raw, at others tender and compassionate. How beautiful I think back now, their young smooth skin a tonic for loneliness and complimentary to my own flawless beauty.

The months again turned to years, that very beauty of mine diminishing a increasingly as Lady Time took her relentless toll. Sometimes I wailed to Dorka about the cruelty of fate and she in turn would smile her secret smile and assure me there were measures which could be taken. Dark but powerful measures. In my self obsession, I grew twisted and began to envy my young maids their silken hair and youthful ivory skin. At nights where once I had caressed, sometimes now I would nip and pinch, taking a perverse pleasure in hurting them in the very same bed where my adult life had so cruelly begun.

Then one night, when a frightened maid clipped my face in defence, I bit her hard on the neck and instead of letting go, I sank my teeth in further as much in curiosity as in frenzied lust. Her screams drew the attention of the servants and Dorka who burst into the room to find me astride the unconscious girl, naked and with her blood running down my face. I would never forget the look of horror on their faces or of the look of satisfaction that crossed Dorka's. Later though, as I wept she consoled me, she told me of spells and potions she knew of from her ancestors and the potions were made from the fresh blood of young virgins. This magic would be pwerful enough to reverse the aging process and make me young again and in a fever of mindless excitement and greed I determined I would have it whatever the cost.

The castle again became a dark and fearful place but not this time from the presence of Cerdic. There were whispers in the local village that late at night screams could be heard from within the castle walls. Terrible haunting wails of souls in torment. Little did they know what horrors could possibly lie in my dungeon. If they could have seen the young girls shackled to the walls, some bleeding openly, whimpering, begging, some already dead. I would sit in a copper bath in the middle of the room, singing to myself, the same song which I had heard my first female lover so many years previously. My bath of blood, tended to so lovingly by my dear friend Dorka who would also hold the mirror as I sang. As Dorka made the preparations and selected the victims, I closed my eyes and ears to any unpleasantries for after all, was I not the Countess Bathory? A woman of beauty and power, timeless and immortal.

But all bad things too must come to an end too. Cerdic had grown old and in an ironic turn of events, had fallen in love with a young noblewoman of seventeen. He had the audacity to bring her home to the castle and paraded her in front of me as his wife and lover, while I, all the while plotted and schemed to lure her to my secret room beneath the keep. Her blood would be sweeter I wagered to Dorka, than any of the peasant wenches and would lose me at least ten years. My mind was cursed by my obsession, the blood, the bath, the mirror and the sweet red wine!

That I was a thorn in Cerdic's side was obvious but in my descent into madness I determined to make him suffer as he had made me! I goaded and mocked, regardless of the stinging slaps this behaviour earned me and I plotted with Dorka to kill him and end my torment once and for all. But perhaps I was foolish in underestimating my opponent as sometimes desperate people are. One day I went out for a ride, the only time now I could ever feel at peace with myself, and on my return there awaited several important looking gentlemen whom I had never before seen. They were deep in discussion with my husband and all looked up coldly and accusingly as I trotted into the yard and my heart froze in my breast at the thought of discovery. Alerted by Dorka's screams as she was dragged to a wagon, I bolted, knowing not where I went but galloping toward the castle gate. Too late. Too late, my wretched head echoes. It is over.....

Dorka was burned at the stake three days later, tried and convicted of sorcery, murder and heresy. And I? The Countess? I could not be executed as I was an aristocrat, but they had a much worse fate in store for me and sometimes, I think,to a wretched soul like me, death can be a blessing. I was condemned to a living death in a small cell within my very castle grounds. I cannot stand in the cell so I crawl, sometimes laughing, sometimes weeping. I can just see out through a small window to the ground below but my eyes grow dimmer now and at last the end is in sight. I began this tale by imploring you to believe I am not an evil woman but perhaps after all I am and I know I have not dwelt too long on the full horrors of what I have done. Nor have I uttered a word since they threw me in here and they say I have no remorse but in my heart and soul I have plenty. There. I have told you my story and yet I know you will still judge me harshly, deservingly so no doubt. But pity me rather than despise me.

B As death pulls me sweetly now into the shadows of eternity I have an image in my head which grows stronger as the light dims. It is my wedding night and a handsome young warrior bids his young wife strip. I stand naked before him, nervous yet breathless with excitement. He touches me with such exquisite tenderness that my eyes well with tears and I embrace his caress..... He loves me.