("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
`6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`)
(_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-'
_..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
(((' (((-((('' ((((
K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
_________________________________________
WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
_________________________________________
Scroll down to view text
Archive name: oddlove.txt (MF/pre-teen, ped)
Authors name: Lor Oldmann (jamwad@hotmail.com)
Story title : Odd Love Affairs
--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------
Odd Love Affairs (MF/pre-teen, ped)
by Lor Oldmann (jamwad@hotmail.com)
***
Another heightened biographical contribution designed to
illustrate the postulation that crazy mixed-up sexuality
is not a particularly modern phenomenon, or something of
the sort.
***
It was not so much a love triangle as an emotional
quadrille; it was, however, one of the oddest love
relationships in history. Dante (or Durante) Alighieri
was nine when he first cast his seedy little eyes on
Beatrice Portinari who was just about to become ten. It
was love at first sight, for, by all accounts she was an
exceedingly beautiful child, but doomed from the start.
She was engaged in a secret compact to be married to an
already married effeminate homosexual, as soon as his
enfeebled wife died.
According to urban legend, Simon de' Bardi had a friend
stand in for him on his wedding night when he finally
married Beatrice ten years later. Beatrice died three
years after her marriage, allegedly of a broken heart
for longing after Dante, but almost certainly from
boredom. Dante had been promised in marriage, firstly,
to a fair maiden who died in infancy, then, when he was
eleven or twelve, to the rather plumpish, near idiotic
Gemma Donati, daughter of the powerful family of Guelf.
There is no doubt that Dante was a crazy mixed-up kid.
You only have to read some of the descriptive pieces of
Divina Commedia to see the effects. Apart from the off-
putting marriage arrangements, and his hopeless love for
Beatrice, his mother died when he was seven. His father
quickly remarried and ordered the son to spend some time
with his 'uncle' Brunetto Latini so that he (the father)
could have some quality time with his new bride.
"I'll be buggered if I go to stay with the old faggot,"
was Dante's immediate response. And sure enough, he was!
In The Divine Comedy the 'uncle' appears in the seventh
circle of hell reserved for those who have a taste for
sodomy. Latini, for his part, thought he had hit rock
bottom with Dante, a little bum who was way behind the
times. The stepmother couldn't stand the little brat
either. So he really was buggered up.
When Dante was fifteen, his father died. He had his
marriage to look forward to, a lifetime in the company
of the ugliest, craziest bitch in Florence. His
stepmother wanted nothing to do with him, and he had to
fight for every cent of his inheritance. So the visits
to Uncle Brunetto took on a kind of permanence. The
experience he gained in Latini's bed held him in good
stead for when he shacked up with the homosexual poet
Guido Cavalcanti.
The one and only thing that kept Dante sane was his
childhood love for Beatrice. Her image was indelibly
printed into his imagination and was with him right up
to the moment of his death. He had seen her first, very
briefly, in a narrow street in Florence. Their eyes met
and in that split second Dante knew that he could never
find satisfaction in another female.
A few days later, their paths crossed and they exchanged
smiles and the conviction of true love was confirmed.
There could and would be no other person for him. But
even at that early age, there seeded in his mind the
certain knowledge that it was a love unattainable, which
was fine as far as he was concerned, for that was the
truest kind of love in the thirteenth century: amour
courteous or courtly love.
It is suggested that while he was making love to his
ugly wife he tried to concentrate on the image of
Beatrice. He tried the same trick while he was being
sodomised by Uncle Brunetto and in the arms of
Cavalcanti, but it seemed not to have worked in any of
these cases, for true love had nothing to do with that
kind of gross sexual activity. It is almost certain that
he found more satisfaction in masturbating. After all,
it was a release readily at hand.
His wife may have been ugly, but she still produced
seven children for him - any port in a storm! The six
sons were as crazy as the father and the daughter was as
ugly as the mother. The daughter, who was called
(surprise, surprise) Beatrice, became a nun and it is
reported that every time she entered or left the convent
the gargoyles at the gateway grimaced; one cynic
declared her to be so ugly that even the mother superior
didn't fancy her.
There is no doubt that Dante followed the day-to-day
reports about his true love; he wrote sonnets about her
- absolutely no mention in any of his poetry of the ugly
bitch was living with. He could tell what Beatrice ate
at dinner, when she was constipated, when her monthlies
were due, and when she died, he did not take himself off
to a monastery exactly, but he became all religious and
crossed himself twice daily and read De Consolatione
Philosophiae of Boethius and Aquinas's Summa Theologiae
and, worse still, he started to write complicated
sentimental poems to her memory. At the end he lost the
place altogether and put Beatrice on the summit of the
seventh heaven to replace the Virgin Mary in his poetry.
A friend once asked him, "Given the chance, would you
have screwed the little cow?"
Dante took exception to the question, but he gave it a
lot of thought, then replied, "I very much doubt it, for
that would have destroyed the quality of love between
us. And who need friends anyway?" And he challenged the
other man to a duel for daring to insult his ideal. And
killed him!
So much then for thirteenth century amour courtois. Move
on a few centuries and we come across an equally odd,
but distinctly dissimilar love affair involving a
beautiful woman and a nut.
In 1823 an artist was commissioned to paint a portrait.
They fell instantly in love and had a torrid affair.
Nothing odd in that - it happens all the time. The
artist, Edwin Landseer, was 21 while the subject,
Duchess Georgina of Bedford, was twice his age. So? He
really had only painted animals before this. So? She was
the wife of the third richest man in England and had
borne him nine darling children. And her husband not
only knew about the love affair, but positively
encouraged it and shielded the pair from the worst of
the scandal it caused. And the affair lasted until
Georgina died aged 72! Oh! Beat that Hollywood!
Georgina was one of the many daughters of the Duke of
Gordon. She was born and brought up in a fairy-tale
castle that went back in time beyond the days of
Shakespeare's MacBeth in the north of Scotland. Even as
young girls, she and her sisters were volatile sex
kittens who experimented with emotions and lived life to
the full with few inhibitions and less parental control.
When she married, she insisted, it would be for love. It
was convenient that she fell in love with one of the
richest men around. And the nine children of the
marriage gives some indication of its intensity. There
is not a single recorded occasion when Georgina had a
headache.
A good case could be made for the argument that the old
Duke of Bedford had been worn out by her demands. There
is every indication that he looked around for someone
else to do the dirties with his wife. Artists had the
reputation, and Edwin Landseer, young, virile and
inexperienced, and stupid, was available. To claim that
the Duke was guiltless in bringing the pair together
would leave a lot of obvious questions unanswered.
The plain fact was that she was a randy bitch, her
husband was past it, and Landseer was there for the
taking. We hear a lot in modern times about
sexploitation involving women; in Georgian England right
up to and well into Victorian times the use of candy-
boys for bored society ladies was common and blatant
and, in fact, along with strong drink, became the focus
of attack by the moral reformers on the second half of
the nineteenth century. Poverty, child prostitution,
industrial exploitation, prevailing epidemics of
cholera, influenza, pneumonia and tuberculosis, bad
housing, street crime, all these were of secondary
importance and would have to take their place in the
queue.
Edwin Landseer, at the best of times, was not the full
bucket of sand in the brain department. As a child in
London he would run screaming "Rape!" if approached by a
girl in the street, and at home he used to hide from
female visitors behind chairs. He refused sweets from
strangers because he was convinced that they were
poisoned.
He slept fully clothed for fear that, were he to die in
the night, he would appear naked before God. He suffered
from a constricted bladder and irritable bowels, because
he refused to perform the demands of nature in any but
his the privy in his own home. And he washed every part
of his body except his pudenda, because these parts were
naughty.
There is no doubt that the kid was in the genius class
for art; he exhibited his work in the Royal Academy when
he was thirteen at a time when that famous institution
was dominated by antiquated old farts who turned up
their noses at masterpieces by Dyce, Raeburn and
Nasmyth. Nevertheless, the first signs of mental
instability were to be seen even in his animal pictures;
he not only included human characteristics, he actually
believed that the beasts could and did communicate with
him through their emotions and their mannerisms. He was
closer to animals than people.
Until he met Georgina. She opened up a new world to him.
In other words, she opened up for him. And how! They
went at it right there under the nose of the old Duke,
she took him away for dirty weekends and flouted him in
public. She rented Doune Castle for a season and screwed
the last drop of sex and sensuality out of their time
together there. She became pregnant again by Landseer.
The Duke of Bedford accepted the fact and the result as
his own flesh and blood. Menopause came upon her soon
after the birth of the Lady Rachel, but if anything her
sex drive increased.
When the Duke of Bedford died in 1839, Landseer asked
Georgina to marry him. She laughed, and demanded, "Why
do you want to go and do a silly thing like that? It is
so tiresome being laid by a husband; a lover is no much
more exciting! And anyway, if we were married I would
have to split the shekels left by the old boy. Not that
I married him for his money." She provided an allowance
for the artist and continued to fuck him senseless
almost until the day she also passed to the great
beyond.
Landseer lived for another twenty years. It took that
long to recover his breath. But his mental condition
deteriorated to the point where he was a slobbering,
gibbering lunatic. He was quite incredibly handsome even
as a fruitcake, and passing rich on the endowment
Georgina left him. He was invited to ask for the hand of
sweet young debutantes at various times, but he always
retained just enough sanity to refuse. He never married.
Georgina was his model and, like Dante, he sustained
himself through the remainder of his life with the image
of her female perfection deeply planted in his mind.
END
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 20