Franengeld

Previously in Frankengeld. Damion von Frankengeld, newly returned home from University has discovered that his father much resembles the strange beast-like statue at the entrance to the family estate. And he has witnessed Una, a maidservant, being abused, which explains why the family go through so many maidservants. His brother Karl, he discovers, also has the furry lower parts like his Father, a situation that does not seem to bother his wife Gerda. He has taken possession of the Old Doctor's house number 34 Hilgenstrasse, in the town of Carlsbruck, and met the strange Lawyer again.

Now read on...

6th June, in the year 1784, mid afternoon.

Anya and Yani worked very hard and soon the house began to look much cleaner. In the entrance hall the cobwebs were gone, the stone floors were scrubbed, not completely back to pristine condition but well on the way. Helena learned that Yani was Anya's nephew, and that they had rooms nearby. They seemed very affectionate with each other and there were no disputes, no friction between elderly aunt and young nephew - despite the generation gap - that might have created a bad atmosphere in the house. They seemed ideal servants.

Whilst Anya and Yani did the basic cleaning, Helena and I investigated the wardrobes in the bedrooms and found, to our surprise, that they contained an unusual selection of garments. In the master bedroom there were, of course, the robes of a professional doctor, which I expected. Town, and Country styles, and some excellent riding gear. They were rather old-fashioned, but this fitted with the probable taste of the elderly doctor who used to have this practice. Something must have happened that meant nobody had claimed these garments, which is unusual since they had some value.

What surprised us were the female garments, clearly quite modern in style, that hung in the second family bedroom. Did the old doctor have a wife with modern taste in dresses? Or did he have special female visitors? I was aware that some men hire themselves a woman for conversation, an intimate meal, and overnight sexual satisfaction. Was the old doctor one of these sort of men?

Helena pulled out a few of the garments and held them up to her body, gazing at her reflection in the mirror on the door of the wardrobe. There were numerous day and evening dresses, a formal ball gown, and nightclothes, and again, some tough travelling items. She did a twirl with a very attractive deep blue dress, and then put it back with a wistful expression on her face. My father had purchased the house with all its contents, and I could have sold these garments, but I had a better idea. They looked to me that they would fit her, so I would gift all the women's clothes to Helena. They would make excellent replacements for her peasant garb. And, if the doctor's wife, mistress, whatever, turned up later, I would make some financial arrangement with her.

"Helena," I said. "Please take all these ladies clothes for yourself."

Helena's jaw dropped. It was the first time I had ever seen her speechless since the first day she became my housekeeper. Then she smiled, flung her arms around my neck, and gave me a hug. After a moment I could hear her crying. I pulled her away and she wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I am sorry, Master Damion," she wailed.

"Why are you crying Helena?" I asked. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No! No!" she assured me. "It's just that I don't deserve this." She waved her hands at the new clothes.

"Nonsense," I said firmly. "You have worked hard. You are my companion in this enterprise. Why should we not share what treasures we find?"

This precipitated another hug, disturbed only by Anya entering the room to sweep and deal with the cobwebs. I smiled at my new housekeeper over Helena's shoulder, and Anya nodded back without the slightest flicker of emotion on her face. A strange one that woman, I thought, and hoped that Helena's 'loyalty' wages would prevent her from gossiping about us. It was common for masters to have their 'wicked way' with servants, but for them to be embracing as equals. Just not the done thing.

I turned back to Helena to find her looking at me intently. I recognised that look. It was the expression she got on her face when she wanted to pleasure me, and have pleasure. Giving her the quality clothes had made her grateful and she had a very physical way of showing her gratitude. I would have been churlish to refuse what she offered but we had Anya and Yani in the house. What could we do? Then I had an idea.

I turned to Anya, "Where do you and Yani live?"

"In the Merchant's quarter, on Tannery Lane," she replied.

A dreadful part of town. I knew it mostly by reputation. A concentration of industries that produced foul smells. There were some dwelling places there as well, cheap accommodation for those who couldn't afford better.

"Would you and Yani like to move in here?" I asked. "It would be useful to me to have you and the lad close by."

Anya looked at me with her steely eye. She stopped cleaning the room and was clearly assessing me. Perhaps she thought I was taunting her, and about to play a prank. That as soon as she gratefully accepted I would reject her foolishness with a cruel laugh.

"That would be most generous, master," she replied, cautiously.

"Then," I said, moving to the door. "Let us examine the rooms upstairs."

Yani was in the corridor, sweeping away the dust that had settled during the weeks the house had been empty. I called him over and together we climbed the stairs to the servants quarters. The Lawyer had only briefly shown me this area, merely stopping at the top of the stairs to explain this was the servants quarters, with the attic above.

I, the intrepid explorer, pushed on further and discovered four small rooms. They were very neglected, the old doctor had clearly had no servants for a long time. This was excellent. "Anya," I said, gleefully. "Can you and Yani choose two rooms and make them habitable, please?"

"Yes, master," she replied. "Though it will take quite some time."

Just what I wanted. "Please take all the time you need," I answered. "Helena and I will continue to tidy downstairs. We might be a little energetic in this but please do not disturb us until it is time for dinner, whatever sounds you might hear."

I left them to it and nearly ran down the stairs back to the old doctor's second bedroom. Helena was already loosening the ties of her clothes and we fell onto the bed in our desperate desire, rolling over and over, kissing passionately. Then clothes were removed and I kissed her breasts, tonguing the nipples until they rose hard and erect. It amused me to think that the old doctor may have kept a concubine in this room and that I was following his example. Who would have thought that a dry old stick such as he, for I remembered vaguely seeing him around the town when I was a child, could be as interested in intercourse as I.

Our lusty rolling about on the bed had brought us to a position where we each faced the genitals of the other. Helena applied kisses to my member and I pushed my mouth between her thighs and started to explore the folds of flesh with my tongue. My years of performing this 'worship' for my Mother had made me quite talented and soon I could hear Helena's muffled moans of pleasure. She seemed to be particularly sensitive this day and soon her hips were twisting as she tried to escape my tongue. I denied her this by holding her buttocks in my hands and pressing my mouth firmly to my target. I was rewarded by her joyous climax and emerged with my face covered with her intimate juices.

Then it was my turn to experience overwhelming sensations as Helena stopped licking and kissing me and took me into her mouth. She sucked at my member remorselessly until I could no longer hold back. I had considered planting my seed in Helena's womb, so passionate I felt, but she denied me that by hanging onto my buttocks as I spilt my seed. Swallowing it all down, and wiping the remainder from her lips with her finger, which she then sucked with a broad smile.

We lay on the bed, exhausted, for a good half an hour and then Helena tried on some of her new clothes. I marvelled at the way they fitted her perfectly, evidently she was fated to own them, and I admired her form as she twirled before the mirror. But secretly I enjoyed the interludes more, when one garment had been put aside but the next one had not yet been donned. Her body excited me and I would have pulled her down onto the bed to pleasure her again but time was moving on. We must get ready for dinner.

I left Helena deciding which dress to wear for the evening and mounted the stairs to the servant's quarters. I needed to release Anya and Yani from their duties so that they could visit their old home, bring back whatever possessions they owned, and settle their rent. As I got to the top of the flight of steps I thought I could hear them energetically cleaning the first room. Yani was grunting as if there was a spot of dirt that was taking some shifting. This room was slightly larger than the others, designed to accommodate the Steward or Senior Housekeeper, and was placed so that the other servants would have to pass the door as they went into the main part of the house. A basic security to keep wayward servants under control. They presumably intended this room to be Anya's.

I pushed open the door, and then wished I had knocked, although the whole house was legally mine and I had the right to go anywhere I liked without announcing my presence. There was a scattering of clothes on the floor and on the bed Anya and Yani, aunt and nephew, were stark naked and copulating vigorously. Her skinny, wrinkled, body - what I could see of it from the doorway - was covered with a sheen of sweat and she gasped and panted with her mouth wide open and her eyes screwed tight shut as Yani pounded her. His youthful body was handsome beyond my expectation for a low born person, his form was lean and muscular, perfectly proportioned, a tribute to the Almighty's ability to make a man. Victor Frankenstein would have loved him as a source of pieces for his creation but I thought him perfect just as he was.

He was face down, covering his aunt with his body, trapping her down onto the bed in what I believe the English call the missionary position. All that could be seen of Anya was her face peeping over his shoulder, her scrawny hands digging into his back, and her legs spread very wide, the feet kicking in the air with each thrust. His legs were holding hers apart and his buttocks rose and fell powerfully and rhythmically as he thrust. From my position at the bottom of the bed, I could see his, rather generous, young member slamming into her old vagina. The grey, wispy, hairs of her sex contrasted with his dark and curly ones. He grunted with each thrust, the sound I had mistaken for energetic cleaning, and she gasped at the same moment as he drove his member balls-deep into her aged sex.

They were clearly celebrating their good fortune at getting positions in this household by trying out a lovemaking position. As someone who had carnal relations with my own relatives from time to time I was in no position to criticise, though I believe the Holy Book has much to say about the subject. They had not noticed me because Yani was facing away from me, and Anya had her eyes tightly shut, so I decided to leave before she opened her eyes, or they tried a different coitus position, and discovered me watching them. Dinner could wait a little, I thought.

As I crept out of the room I heard a long low shuddering moan from Anya as her orgasm overtook her. Even at the moment of climax she controlled herself so that, had I not been in the room, I doubt I would have heard her subdued cry. I closed the door, carefully so as not to disturb them, speculating on what the effect would be of an elixir of pleasure on this woman. Would she cry out her pleasure to the world? Would the pent-up emotions in her be given true release. I determined to offer her the opportunity if my work was successful.

I explained to Helena what was happening upstairs and we continued our personal tour of the house. Slowly, to give the lovers upstairs time to finish. There were a number of old weapons on the wall in the hall. Very common in older houses, and useful if you needed them in a hurry. We noted that they were a little dusty, and I made a mental note to ask Anya to clean them. The kitchen was well stocked with pots, pans and other paraphernalia, and had a large table which would do for less formal meals. There were dried herbs and spices aplenty in the store but no fresh food except for what cook had given us that morning.

When the lovers came downstairs, sweaty with their exertions but trying to look innocent, we sent Yani out to the market to buy some supplies. Helena and Anya decided what we needed and then Helena repeated the list three times to the lad, who - of course - could not read. He returned with everything on the list so clearly he had a good memory. We had given him the coin to pay for the food, but he also returned with invitations from several of the established shops for us to create an account. I decided we should, at some point, take up some of these offers as it would mean we would only have to pay on the first day of the month for the previous month's produce.

While Yani was away at the Market I sprang into action. I had decided the sign must come down. Everyone knew this to be The Doctor's House, I could even remember as I child I had been told its title, there was no need to have this monstrous picture of medieval practices. I brought a stool onto the top step and, with Helena hanging on to my legs so that it didn't wobble too much, I unhooked the sign. One end came off the chain but I lost my grip on it and the sign swung down, nearly hitting my new assistant. As the heavy wood sliced past her, missing her by a hair, she gave me a look that spoke volumes. I grabbed at the sign to stop it's lethal movement, nearly falling off the stool in the process, then carefully unhooked the other end. The monstrous sign - both for what it depicted and the fact it had tried to kill Helena - went into the cellar. For repainting with a better design if someday we needed it.

"I'm sorry about that Helena," I apologised. "The thing got away from me."

"Do not worry, master Damion. I'm fine," she replied.

The near accident had upset me more than I would have expected so I stopped for a light beer before continuing our work. One disappointment was, that when we started to unpack the crates in the cellar, several of the glass flasks and distillation tubes had broken during the journey, despite our best efforts to protect them. Luckily the town of Carlsbruck has several glass-blowers working in the industrial quarter. We will have to visit one before we can start. Anya wanted to tidy away the broken glass but when I explained we needed the pieces to show to a glass-blower she told us that one of her cousins works in the business. Very useful, we may even get to save money by mentioning that Anya works for us.

I sent Anya and Yani to the nearby tavern to bring back a cooked meal. It was our first day in the house and we all deserved a treat. After we had eaten our dinner Anya and Yani went to get their belongings and Helena and I sat and planned our strategy.

We needed enough clients to fund the research so we decided we will open the consulting rooms on a morning for paying patients. In the afternoon I will visit private clients around the town, if we can find some, and any afternoon that is free of requests we can work openly in the lab on non-secret work. In the evening we can do the really secret activity. Helena volunteered to be a test subject for the elixirs we created, but I rejected this.

"No Helena," I said. "There are three reasons why you should not take the experimental elixirs."

"What are the reasons?"

"One, you are a woman who already has a lot of joy in all her appetites, it would be hard to see the small effect a first or even second generation medicine is likely to have."

"Oh! I think I see. And the second?"

"You have already proven yourself to be an excellent assistant, finding an Igor as good as you would be hard if an accident in the dosage, or the wrong ingredients, renders you unable to work, or worse."

"Yes, I see that would be inconvenient. And the third?"

"I could not bear it if you were harmed by the experiments. I am very fond of you."

That ended the conversation for the night. We retired to bed to demonstrate our fondness for each other and finally fell asleep, exhausted, in the early hours.

7th June, in the year 1784.

The next day was bright and sunny. We collected the shards of glass, and some of the important paperwork, along with a few leaflets I had penned. Leaving Anya and Yani to continue the cleaning - with possibly a break for more aunt and nephew intimacy - we sauntered through the streets to the Burgomaster's Office in the Town Hall. I warned Helena that this process might take some time, and that a bribe might be needed to speed things up. We had a little money, provided by my Father, which I showed to Helena but she told me to put it away. This was something she could help with. Did she have her own savings, I wondered, or was she talking about a different kind of bribe?

The hall was a magnificent building, all delicately carved stone for five floors! It looked charming and authoritative at the same time, unless you looked too closely at the carvings. Demons and devils leered down at the good people of Carlsbruck along with sinners demonstrating - sometimes quite vividly - all of the deadly sins that were amenable to visual representation. I remember in my youth that I particularly liked the section on lust. On the top floor, on the side facing the market square, was an ancient clock, replete with animated figures that struck the hours on great bells with various instruments of war.

We climbed the stairs to the entrance hall. Here I found a clerk to direct me and, eventually, we made my way to the appropriate room. There was a grand looking brass notice on the door that read 'Burgomaster Anders'. I knocked quietly, and a gruff voice told me to enter. I pushed open the door and we went in. The room was very imposing with escutcheons on the walls, the heraldic shields of the various guilds, and a very large desk. A massive slab of oak on four thick legs that spoke of status and responsibility. There was a couch for those waiting and two chairs by his desk for supplicants.

And, behind the desk, was a man, no less large and imposing, the Burgomaster. He had been in this position of power in Carlsbruck when I left for Engolstadt and was still here now. I suspected that only death, or infirmity, would remove him from his seat of power. He looked up from his writing.

"I am Damion von Frankengeld," I said, in my formal 'dealing with officials' voice. "I have come with the deeds to my new property to register ownership, and the medical practice that will operate from the building."

"Too fast," he muttered. "One thing at a time."

He dipped his quill pen in the inkwell and took out a form. He poised his hand over the page.

"Now, your name," he said.

The next few minutes passed excruciatingly slowly as he took my details. It was like swimming through syrup. Not that I have ever done such sticky exercise, it just felt like the experience would be similar. As he kept insisting on various details I became aware that he was blocking me. That soon he would ask me to return tomorrow. And that it would take days, possibly weeks, to get this simple task done.

I think Helena also understood what was happening too. She whispered in my ear, "He needs a bribe, as you feared, something to lubricate the wheels of bureaucracy."