Frankengeld Pt 07

Previously in Frankengeld. Damion and Helena have dealt with the strange wolf intruder and opened The Doctor's House to its first patient, Gerda. Damion's sister-in-law has decided to switch doctors, probably a good idea when Damion discovers what Dr Hoffer has been doing to her. They decide to visit the Summer Fair in the evening. They wander arm-in-arm, which is not the correct etiquette for master and servant, and are now in very real danger of being embarrassed by Elodie pointing out that fact.

Now read on...

8th June, in the year 1784, in the evening.

Helena was looking at one of the stalls with wonder so had not seen the danger, and seemed not to have realised I was trying to pull away from her. Elodie pulled her arms free of her companions, who I recognized as Poppy and Freida - though much grown up from when I last saw them - and ran forwards to grasp Helena.

"Helena, my dear, so lovely to see you. Mwah! Mwah!" Elodie grasped her close and planted the traditional two kisses, one on each of Helena's cheeks. Then drew her towards her friends. Helena looked over her shoulder at me, barely controlling her alarm.

"Freida, Poppy, this is my new friend Helena," she smiled broadly. "She's from Engolstadt."

Hugs and kisses followed and I breathed a sigh of relief. My sister could have been unpleasant, could have made a scene, but here she was greeting Helena like a long lost friend. And, from the warm looks Helena was getting from Freida and Poppy, they had assumed she was just as she looked, the daughter of a wealthy family.

"Greetings sister, all is well with you I hope," I said, hoping my eyes expressed the thanks I felt.

"Yes, my brother," laughed my sister. "I have just finished a new poem. I must read it to you. Will you pay a call at the house?"

"I am very busy with my consulting work," I lied. "But yes sister. I will visit as soon as I can get away."

She grabbed my arm and we walked. Helena was immediately adopted by Freida and Poppy. Over my shoulder I could hear discussions about dresses and demands to know what Engolstadt was like. The girls had grown up much in the three years I had been away.

Freida had become quite a strong, stocky, woman. She had taken to wearing round framed glasses for I believe her eyesight had always been poor, and her brown hair was cut quite short. She was wearing a very formal orange riding dress, the kind where the skirts are formed into two flared trouser legs. Older women would be a little scandalised by this for it implied that she rode as a man, and not side-saddle. And further scandalised by the fact she was wearing the garment for an evening walk, with no horse in sight.

Poppy - in contrast - stood a head taller than her friend, and was very slender, with long golden locks. I remembered Poppy as being quite a plump child but all that had fallen away into slender elegance as she had grown to womanhood. She was wearing a beautiful purple dress, with a dramatically contrasting green scarf.

Elodie dragged my attention away from them and I just had to hope Helena would cope. She regaled me, "It is so boring at home. Mother keeps finding me what she calls 'suitable husbands'."

"She wishes to see you settled in a happy marriage, I'm sure," I replied, thinking that a man must be very robust to survive my sister's demands.

"Well she's going the wrong way about it," said Elodie grumpily. "Most of the men are so stupid. Some of them are good with their... manly attributes... but they are dull, dull, dull!"

I nodded. What could I say? Most aristocratic young men were brought up hunting game, learning military strategy, and playing card games for money they could ill afford. The aggressive ones found excuses to have duels, and the lusty ones visited brothels. Few did anything useful, it was considered poor taste.

"And the ones that are not stupid," Elodie continued. "Think that I am!"

"Let us all sit and have a drink," I suggested.

We sat at a long table, snuggled all together on the benches, and I ordered hot, spiced, wine.

Elodie looked me straight in the eyes, "I hear that Gerda visited you this morning."

"Yes, she came to wish me well in my enterprise," another lie, I was getting good at this.

"Nothing more?" she looked unconvinced.

"Now Elodie, you know that what passes between doctor and patient is confidential," I said, trying that defence.

"Well yes," she agreed. "But that does suggest she has become a patient of yours, Damion."

She had caught me in the lie.

"I hope you understand I cannot break that trust," I said sweeping my gaze around the three young ladies. "If any of you were to visit me then the same rule would apply."

"I have heard that Doctor Karsten, who owned The Doctors House before you, simply disappeared," this was Freida, in a dramatic change of subject.

"We wondered what had happened to the doctor who owned the house before us," said Helena. "Do you know any more?"

"I believe he was called out to a patient the evening he vanished," Freida seemed to have all the facts at her fingertips. "He and his daughter attended. And that was the last time they were seen. The Chief of Police investigated but it remains a mystery."

As Freida continued to give details of the police investigation, clearly fascinated by the mystery, I thought about the implications. The disappearance of the Old Doctor explained why the house was available for my father to purchase. And Freida's comment at least explained the ladies clothes we had found, they obviously belonged to the doctor's daughter. I chose to believe that my father had met secretly with them, and paid the old doctor off. To take retirement, in Vienna perhaps, where he could live out his remaining days in comfort, and his daughter could take advantage of the civilised pursuits available in that grand city. The alternative was too terrible to contemplate. That my father was somehow involved with the disappearance of the pair. I glanced across at Helena and, from the expression in her eyes, knew she was thinking the same thing.

"I think the werewolf got them!" said Poppy, cutting across everyone's thoughts.

"Sorry Poppy, what was that!" I was shocked.

"There's stories that a werewolf stalks the forests to the north of here," she grinned, as if this was the most amazing thing possible, and not terrifying.

"They say," she continued. "That he appears as a handsome man, in fine garb, with excellent manners. He talks and seems a perfectly normal, well-endowed, prince. Until he... changes!"

We were all fascinated now. It seemed to me that Poppy had grown up to be an excellent storyteller.

"Then he pounces," she mimed the action with her arms. "Pounces upon the poor innocent girl, ravishing her over and over again with his enormous phallus, in many and varied positions, ignoring her desperate screams for mercy until he has sated his lust. Then he consumes her!"

Poppy was animated by her story, her eyes sparkled and her bosom heaved with emotion. She acted out the pouncing, and some of the parts of the ravishing that could be reasonably demonstrated in the middle of a crowded fair without getting arrested. Helena and I sat quietly as the three girls listened, giggled, and pretended to be terribly shocked by the mention of being ravished.

"Elodie?" asked Helena suddenly. "What do you wish to do?"

It was a strange question but perhaps was designed to allow time for Poppy, and her audience, to recover from her story.

"I help Damion with his medical work," she pointed out. "Poppy here could clearly write exciting stories of romance and the supernatural. Freida could be a solver of crimes. What do you want to do?"

"I want to write poems," said Elodie with a wistful look on her face. "And have them published in a little book that people could carry with them wherever they go. Once I have provided my husband with an heir and a spare he will, no doubt, allow me to do what I like with my life. But, until I marry, Mother rather expects me to keep looking stupid, and not spoil my chances."

I had an idea.

"It seems to me, sister, that you need something to keep you busy."

Elodie looked at me. Her eyes narrowed and her smile faded. I was sure that she was expecting me to say that she should sit with Mother, and take up needlecraft, or pressing flowers. I pressed on, no pun intended, through the stare as her friends began to pick up on her tense posture.

"In Vienna and Paris, even in uncivilised London I believe, they have literary clubs. A weekly or monthly event where writers get together to share their poems and stories and support each other's creative endeavours."

The way that Elodie's face lit up when she heard this was a great pleasure to me. She clapped her hands in joy. I was sure that mother and father would condemn the idea but, at this instant, being told off by them would be worth it.

"Damion, what a wonderful idea!" she beamed. "You could invite writers and we could all meet to drink coffee and share our work."

"Actually Elodie," I answered. "I was thinking that you could invite them."

"Do you think so, dearest Brother?"

"Yes, I'm sure," I replied. "When I was studying at Engolstadt your letters were a great pleasure for me. You write an excellent letter. Some of them were so good that my hands shook whilst reading them."

"Well thank you," she grinned.

"You," I was getting quite animated by the idea now. "You could pretend to Mother and Father that the literary event is so that you may indulge your poetical interests by listening to the writers. You do not need to say that you might add a poem or two of your own. I'm confident that neither of them will attend such an event."

"And Freida," now the plan was drawing in more people. "Could you not have a word with your cousin who runs the coffee shop to hire a room for the evening?"

"Yes Damion, I will," replied Freida. "I'm sure he would be delighted to have such creative company. It would enhance the reputation of the cafe."

"I know of a couple of writers in Engolstadt who might be interested in making the journey," I added. "Elodie, I will give you their addresses. And there must be other writers here in Carlsbruck."

Helena spoke up, "If it is in the evening, when we have no patients, then Damion and I would be delighted to attend. I love listening to exciting tales, particularly those that involve getting ravished." She reached over and pressed her hand onto Poppy's, who beamed at her and gave her a hug.

I ordered another round of mulled wine, and we sat encouraging them, then we made our excuses that we had to open up the consulting rooms tomorrow, which was true, and left. I was unsure what Poppy and Freida made of the relationship between Helena and I, but I didn't care. We left them excitedly planning their literary salon.

"That was well done, master Damion."

"Thank you Helena. Mother has always encouraged Elodie to be useless, but she deserves better."

"Very true, master Damion."

"And I think it had best be just plain Damion, in future."

"Very well," she said, looking down shyly.

"After all you are, apparently, my gentlewoman companion from Engolstadt."

"I suspect they think I am your mistress," she replied. "But are too polite to say so. Let us go home, Damion. I desire to show you how good a mistress I can be!"

But it wasn't to be. We had barely taken ten paces when the excited girls caught up with us. They were all talking at once and I heard the phrase 'Esmeralda and her dancing bear.' repeated more than once. They were encouraging us to come with them to see this entertainment.

"Oh can we?" asked Helena, her eyes bright with anticipation.

I could not say no to her so I indicated to the girls to lead on, and we would follow. Freida led the way from the main square down a side street and onto the grassed area where the tents of the Summer Fair were located. Here there were mysteries to be viewed like the Two Headed Boy, the Bearded Lady, and Gypsy Rose who told fortunes using cards. There was a scattering of caravans and the occasional camp fire.

A brightly coloured tent was labelled Esmeralda and two stern looking men stood guard on the door. The entrance fee was one coin and I offered to pay for everyone. The men looked strangely at Freida, Elodie, Helena and Poppy, as if they were unsure whether to let them in. It was true that most of the customers lining up for this tent appeared to be male.

"You can permit them entrance," I said, gesturing at the ladies. "They are brave and will not be frightened by what they see."

The man to whom I addressed my words looked doubtful but he took my coins and we passed through a short fabric tunnel into the tent. Half the floor area was occupied by a low stage, and the remainder with seating. Freida took us to the front row and I admired her fortitude. She, for one, was clearly not going to be cowed by the sight of a woodland predator. I had little doubt that we were safe. The training of black bears to perform for the public was a tradition going back hundreds of years, I was sure the trainers had dealt with most of the safety issues by now. And the world is full of risks, people must learn to make their own assessment - and behave appropriately.

We settled down and shortly two men emerged from the opening at the rear of the tent. One had a recorder and the other a hurdy-gurdy. They moved to the side of the stage and proceeded to play a jolly tune. The curtains then swept back briefly and a young woman entered, presumably this was Esmeralda. She was typical of the gypsy folk who visited Carlsbruck in that she was raven haired and had a rich, dark, complexion. I thought she was really rather attractive.

I awaited the bear but all that happened was that Esmeralda danced. She was very good at it but I felt vaguely disappointed at this delaying tactic. I leaned over to whisper to Freida.

"When will the bear show itself," I asked.

"Sorry?" said Freida, with a puzzled expression on her face.

"The bear, the dancing bear, when does that happen?"

"Soon," said Freida, with a grin on her face.

Esmeralda paused in her dancing, which involved two handkerchiefs and a lot of leaping and kicking up of her skirts. She nodded at the musicians and the man with the recorder stopped playing and took an empty chair and placed it on the stage. He then spoke loud and clear.

"The beautiful Esmeralda will now dance for a lucky member of the audience," he said, looking up and down the rows. His eyes lit on me and he pointed, "You sir. Please join Esmeralda on stage."

I tried to resist, after all a respectable citizen such as myself should be modest and not push themselves into the celebrity limelight. But Helena and Freida were having none of it. I was gently encouraged out of my seat and the delightful Esmeralda welcomed me onto the stage. She sat me on the chair. It was a chance to study her more closely.

She was in her early twenties I would judge, and not a classic beauty. True she did have the wide hips and large buttocks considered attractive these days but her breasts were far too large for polite society and her long dark hair and swarthy complexion spoke of peasant stock. But there was an energy about her that I found intoxicating, or was that the effect of the mulled wine I had drunk earlier this evening? She started to spin and gyrate before me, stroking my face with the handkerchiefs as she passed.

I was still waiting for the bear to appear when Esmeralda threw her handkerchiefs into the air in an act of abandon, and soon her clothes were following them. More and more of her figure was revealed and I suddenly understood. Esmeralda was a woman whose act was dancing bare.

The music became more wild in nature and so did Esmeralda. She waved her breasts before me, kneading them like dough, and occasionally placing her hand between her legs to stroke her sex. I found myself becoming aroused and clung to the sides of the chair to prevent myself from handling my rapidly engorging member through my trousers. All my self control came to naught unfortunately as Esmeralda moved forward to sit on my lap.

"Young lady," I tried to remonstrate with her in a kindly manner. "I'm a respectable doctor and cannot be seen in such a compromising position."

It had no effect. She pressed her delectable bottom down onto me, then wriggled while waving her breasts at the audience. Cheers and shouts of encouragement filled the tent, and no person in the audience seemed to be bothered that I was the subject of her teasing. I could see Helena and her new friends laughing and watching as closely as any man. Esmeralda ground away with her hips and my member rose obediently, luckily concealed by my trousers. She sprang up again and ran hither and thither amongst the audience, permitting the men to briefly stroke her youthful flesh. Then, from the far side of the tent, she fixed me with an intense gaze and stalked me, like a wild animal might its prey.

After an agonising minute, in which she moved across the tent in a low crouch, her breasts dangling under, she was kneeling before me and had spread her hair across my crotch. Then skilfully, under the cloak of her spread hair, she opened my flies and released my penis. It immediately sprang to attention. Her delicate fingers grasped it and then her warm mouth engulfed it. I looked down to watch her head bobbing up and down. The audience could imagine what was happening but could not see for she cunningly maintained the screen of her black hair despite her movements. I could not see either, but I could feel, and the sensations were intense as she cunningly went from just sucking the tip of my member, rolling her tongue around, to taking my entire length into her throat.

I found even more reason to hang onto the sides of the chair. My hands, given their freedom, would no doubt have sought to help her fellate me. I would have demonstrated my nature as a seeker of pleasure to the entire audience. I would have encouraged her to move faster and take me deeper, perhaps even forcing her to take my entire length. Instead I concentrated on maintaining my equilibrium and smiled out at the sea of faces as if this were a normal event in my life. I thought I was doing well with this task when the delectable Esmeralda took things to the next level.

She rose from her kneeling position in one swift movement and, before I could object, turned her back to me and sat on my lap. But, unlike the earlier dancing in my lap, this time my member was fully erect. The result was that my penis, well lubricated now, penetrated her equally well lubricated vagina. She did this so quickly that I would guess that only the sharpest of eyes would have seen the penetration. Her crotch was filled with thick dark hairs and she kept her legs close together, so the penetration was now hidden from view.

The musicians were playing a sensual Eastern tune at this stage and Esmeralda rubbed my thighs with her hands. I could not see the expression on her face but I could hear her gasps and groans and guessed her face was a pretty picture of sensuality. Her hands found mine and she pulled my fingers free of the chair. She was strong and I was increasingly becoming weak. Then she moved my hands to her breasts and encouraged me to fondle them. It would have been churlish to refuse.

"Oooooh," she groaned and shuddered with pleasure. "Oh my lover, your weapon is deep within me. I feel its warmth and hardness. I am skewered on it like a victim of Vlad the Impaler. I must seek to escape it."

She placed her hands on her knees and spread her thighs wide apart. Even with her dense bush of pubic hair our conjoining must now be visible to the audience. Then she tensed her thighs and slowly lifted herself up until just the tip of my member was still within her. She did this with many gasps and cries, play acting the victim of impalement on the stake so beloved of the evil Vlad, twisting and shaking her breasts at the audience. I struggled keep my hands where she had placed them on her breasts, she had very long nipples and they provided some purchase, but I was aware that I was tugging and pulling at them as she flung herself about.