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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: bio.txt (M+/f+, rom, orgy, ped)
Authors name: Lor Oldmann (jamwad@hotmail.com)
Story title : Potted Biographies: The Casanova Complex
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. Please
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Potted Biographies: The Casanova Complex
by Lor Oldmann (jamwad@hotmail.com)
***
Another pseudoperpindicularification in a form not
dissimilar to the demytholigisation trend among
biographers of the second half of the twentieth
century....or something.
***
Casanova had nothing on his contemporary the Rev. Elisha
Amos Fairweather. Anything the notorious 'coq au Venice'
could do, the reverend gentleman from Hampshire could do
better, much oftener and for far longer to countless many
more females! Females only! Unlike Casanova, Fairweather
was purely frontal heterosexual. He felt he had to draw
the line somewhere.
Jonathan Swift, near the end of his life, received
hospitality from the 'humper of Hampshire' and was
appalled at the man's sexual appetite. Elisha married one
of his 'childhood sweethearts', Ruth Barnstable, while he
was still a curate and she had only just entered her
teens. Between them they produced fourteen children who
survived infancy; she had four of them by the age of
nineteen. "It's not a family you have," exclaimed the
outraged Dean when he learned the facts, "it's a fucking
addiction!" (The participle still retained most of its
original connotation in the eighteenth century.)
And Jonathan Swift, author of Gulliver's Travels, knew
what he was talking about! As a teenager at school in
Kilkenny, Swift became emotionally involved with some
older females until their fathers, husbands or big
brothers put an end to his flirtations, but not before
one of the women, the unmarried older sister of one of
his teachers, became seriously pregnant, which gave him a
good excuse for leaving the school.
When he went to Trinity, Dublin, his involvement with
young and old of the opposite sex became so intense (he
had several lovers each day) that, inevitably, his arts
and divinity studies suffered serious setbacks. He was
finally granted his degree only by 'special grace' and
not 'by virtue of his attendance at classes' or as a
reward for any mental exertion; it was pure coincidence
that his family had powerful friends, one in particular
who almost financed Trinity College on his own.
Swift became a kind of 'private secretary' to another of
these powerful family friends, Sir William Temple of Moor
Park, and while there as tutor he began to teach Miss
Esther Johnson a thing or two. Although she was still a
child of eight and ward of his benefactor, he initiated a
love affair that was to last until her death at the age
of forty six, worn out, some are inclined to say, by sex.
He never married Esther, but they lived together as man
and wife, even when he was sent as priest to the
congregation at Laracor, on the outskirts of Dublin.
Esther's dying words were, according to urban legend, "I
have been satisfied, and now it is time to go!"
At Moor Park, many of the child's lessons were given in a
secluded summer house. It was here that a servant
interrupted on one occasion when Swift's nakedness was
concealed only by a bed sheet and an equally naked ten
year old Esther was wrapped in nothing more than a narrow
ribbon of chiffon. The explanation given to Temple was
that they were re-enacting the famous story of Troilus
and Cressida, bringing classical Greek and Roman fables
to life and recreating scenes from famous paintings.
Temple believed this! And the servant was horsewhipped
for being such an unmitigated, ignorant fool.
There can be little doubt that Swift had genuine feelings
for the child. Most of her learning was done on his knee.
When she did well she was awarded with a kiss, a caress
or a pat on the head. And when she was naughty or made a
mistake, she was very gently smacked on her bare bottom.
He had many pet names for his pupil; he called her 'his
little pussy' and 'Eggshell' and 'Cockspur', but his
favourite, and the one he used in his writings about her
was 'Stella'. Nevertheless, he did not exhaust his
treasure house of affections on her. Indeed, his sexual
activities before he met Stella were as nothing compared
to the period she lived with him as mistress and common
law wife.
He made frequent visits to London where he fornicated,
mostly with society ladies, only occasionally with common
whores, and rarely with paid prostitutes, but almost
incessantly whenever he was not attending literary,
political or ecclesiastical meetings. One of these
ladies, Esther Vanhomrigh, was so besotted with him that
she followed him back to Ireland with pathetic
consequences for all concerned. Several ladies, who
remained in London, claimed to have been impregnated by
him, but only one low class wench made a big thing out of
it and was sent to prison for her efforts. The point is:
this was the man who had the temerity to criticise the
Rev. Elisha Fairweather.
It is said that Casanova, if he did not invent it, at
least perfected the Threesome! It was his sexual high to
have two ladies, preferably sisters, and ideally twins,
in bed beside him at the same time. That was pussy-willow
to Fairweather: on one of his regular cross-channel
visits he invited the four daughters and the widowed
landlady to share his bed, and he went at it throughout
the night, like the proverbial rabbit, in his own words,
'from hole to hole' and this became par for the course
whenever he landed at Calais and lodged in the widow's
inn there.
He was a regular visitor to the aristocratic homes of
Paris, where his breath-taking exploits were famous, and
it became something of a social stigma not to have at
least one daughter laid and well-and-truly fertilised by
the reverend gentleman. He boasted that he had made love
in a rattling coach from London, on tossing ships in the
English Channel, on horseback, and while climbing in the
Alps!
He gained the enviable reputation of providing each of
his lovers with at least a single orgasm, which he
described as her 'enthusiasm', on each occasion, which
seemed to increase his popularity in France. But with
popularity comes notoriety, and inevitably word crept
back over the channel. He was called to give an account
of himself and his frequent visits to France before a
panel of bishops who unanimously dismissed all charges,
ostensibly because the reports were obviously
exaggerated, but in reality because the offences took
place outside England, and were only commonplace among
the French, and that made it acceptable.
Strangely though, almost as soon as he returned to his
rectory in Hampshire, after being carpeted by the
bishops, he began to receive invitations from the landed
gentry. Dowager ladies from across England paid him
visits to discuss quite seriously grave problems that
could only be solved in the privacy of his locked study
or vestry, and the spiritual wrestlings with the angels
of the Almighty and the anguish of the tormented soul
could be measured by the volume of grunts and groans
emanating from behind the barred door. Childless couples,
not only from his own parish, came to him for advice,
which invariably involved a practical demonstration, and
the parochial record of births and baptisms show clearly
how successful his therapy had been.
Ruth (nee Barnstable) was inconsolable on her husband's
death, made more unpalatable by the fact that she had to
move out of the rectory with her brood. "I have lost
much, much more than a good husband, soul-mate and
spiritual mentor," she exclaimed at Elisha's funeral. "I
am left with a gaping void, an emptiness, which cannot be
filled, a longing that can no longer be supplied."
Nevertheless, within six months she married a local
blacksmith, but produced no further issue.
And what of this fellow Casanova? Giacomo Girolamo
Casanova de Seingalt was a jerk of all trades and
mastered none. He was born in Venice 1725 and by his
twenty-fifth birthday he had been beaten up for the
technical rape of a preteen girl when he was fourteen,
expelled from a religious seminary for sodomy, and
cashiered from the army for some similar offence. He was
defrocked as a priest for dishonesty and immorality, and
discharged from his post as secretary to a cardinal for
thieving, forgery and recycling stolen goods. He conned
people into believing that he had discovered the secrets
of alchemy and relieved them of a considerable fortune
which he lost at the gaming table. He pretended to be a
gifted violinist without actually performing, which may
well sum up his life.
That the man led an interesting life has never been
questioned. But he was an abject failure in everything he
did. For instance, he took over the running of the highly
lucrative French National Lottery from a Scottish crook,
and for the first time in its history it realised a loss!
He received a kind of knighthood in Holland until it was
discovered that his claims to fame were patently false.
He was accused of cowardice when he ran away from a duel
with a half-blind count in Russia. He worked as a secret
agent for Louis the Fifteenth and as a police informer in
Venice for the Inquisition, and left both posts abruptly
after supplying infantile misinformation.
Even his amorous exploits are open to question and can be
shown as largely fiction. His memoirs, published
posthumously, have very little substance in reality and
are mostly wishful thinking. At least three of the ladies
in question, two of whom are alleged to have taken part
in his original 'threesome', were otherwise engaged at
the time Casanova records their seduction; one was in the
process of being buried (beat that for an alibi) and the
twins were in the Americas.
One society lady who spent time with him in London
reported that 'he was all talk of cock with little
substance!' "When a lady lies and considers her next
coiffure," she declared, "while he copulates,
expostulates and protests his fervent desire on top of
her, there is something far amiss."
Thus confirming the old adage 'it you can't get up, speak
up!' This, perhaps, is the true nature of the Casanova
complex!
END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 19