Romanian Holiday — a tale for Halloween

Here’s another creepy tale, just in time for Halloween. If Rod Serling had just appeared on screen he’d say “Be careful what you wish for. Imagine, if you will, an ordinary bar in an ordinary European city. A boy chats up a girl, hoping to extend his evening. Will he succeed in impressing her with his story? And if so, what then?”  From the story collection Spanking Times Eleven. Let’s listen in.

Art by Paula Russell
So, you are Hungarian? You speak pretty good English. But was that really your most lurid travel story? You meet up with this guy in a hostel in Antwerp in 1997 and the two of you get it on, right there in the open dorm, with the housemother, or whoever, sleeping right next door? That’s it?
 Now, look. I’m sure you thought it was edgy and daring and all that, but you want to hear my story? I got one you won’t believe. And it happened not far from here. I tell you, I love it here in Budapest, but this happened in Romania. It is going to sound crazy, but I swear every bit of it is true. Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you.
    So? I bought you one for your story. The name’s Ronnie, by the way. And you are?
      Elizabeth. Ok, Beth, pleased to meet you. You look skeptical—I see it in your face, but hey, thank you—barkeep, Jack Daniels on the rocks. So, ok, here goes.
    It was 1991, about two years after the Berlin Wall fell. I had just graduated and there was this lag between college and what was going to be the next thing. Actually I didn’t know what the next thing was going to be, but I had saved up some cash. You see, I always wanted to travel and see exotic places. So I thought I’d see Europe. Now I don’t mean Paris and Rome and all that. What I wanted to see were all those out of the way places, places that had been sealed off from the world for 50 years. Places like here, Hungary and Romania. I love to travel. Still do as you can see. I mean, how exotic can you get? It’s been hidden away right in the middle of Europe, this blend of West and Russian, Polish, and Turk. And, it’s been ruled, up to the fall of the iron curtain, by this crazy guy and his wife, Chow chess Q or something. What? Yeah, There you go. Nicolai Ceaucescu, thank you. I see you know something about this.
    Anyway he and his wife got shot in 1989 and the country was opened up, I mean you could go there without all the communist era hassle. So I headed off to Europe on a college charter flight. Landed in Amsterdam. It wasn’t long before I hooked up with these two rather cute ladies who were going to travel around Europe all summer. We decided to travel together. I think they liked me, you know? I’m not a bad looking guy and I think they figured it might be better to have a guy along for protection from unwanted attention. Because these were seriously pretty girls. Janine was this cute athletic brunette, short but with a great body. Adrienne was a willowy blonde with this slinky figure—slim hips but perky ass, you know? Don’t look at me like that. I guess I’m an ass guy. I’m wired that way. What can I say?
     So, anyway, we were a threesome. I had my eyes on both of them and I think they both had their eyes on me, you know what I mean? Uh, in fact, I think they were also into each other, so the prospects were very interesting.
    Anyway, one reason it worked was that we all had the same plan—to see the out of the way places. Adrienne had been to Europe before and had seen the great cathedrals and all that. Janine had spent junior year abroad in London. So all the main tourist stuff was, to them, old hat. We all agreed that Romania would be really different, so we took a train to Bucharest. We figured the way to see the country was by car so we pooled our cash and rented this clunker, but it ran. We motored around seeing all these quaint villages and I think life hadn’t changed much in hundreds of years. They still had ox carts, for God’s sake.
    We decided to go up into the mountains—you know, find Dracula’s castle and all that. But what happened was, we got lost. We were just driving and headed sort toward this village named Gorski or something like that, and the skies opened up. I mean, it started raining and storming like crazy. Thunder. Lightening. Limbs coming down in the road. I think the road signs got twisted around. Anyway, it’s dark, it’s late and we’re tired. So up ahead we see lights. It’s a big house on a hill, all lit up. We figure we’ll stop and ask directions to Gorski. Maybe there’s an inn there, we figure.
    We pull into the circular driveway and just as we got out of the car the front door opens and this guy is standing there. He’s tall, slim and has white hair, pulled back. But he’s not exactly old, he’s an albino. He was wearing this smoking jacket with an ascot and he’s holding leashes for these two big Russian wolfhounds. Talk about a striking scene. Then I saw another figure. She’s this gorgeous exotic woman, about late thirty-ish, jet black hair parted in the middle, aquiline features, white as snow skin. She’s wearing this slinky black number. The whole scene was sort of surreal.
    I was kind of taken aback, and I nervously asked him which way to Gorski and was there an inn there, that we were lost. He insisted we come in. “Please, it is terrible out there. Allow me to extend our hospitality to you.” He spoke perfect English which surprised me. We needed little urging to get in out of the rain. So we go in, and he introduces himself. “I am Alexi Natasdy and this is my wife Magda.” She smiled and nodded, and right away I could tell she was one smoldering package. She looked at us like a cat studying canaries, I mean her eyes were all lit up. Hypnotic, even. It was a feeling, you know?
    So after the introductions he ushers us into his study and gets us a brandy. He told us we were miles from Gorski and there was no inn anyway. Then he said, “You must stay here. I insist. We have plenty of room. At least until these storms subside.” We were exhausted so we said, sure. So we were in for the night. He had these girls around. They were all young and pretty and wore these abbreviated uniforms—at least they seemed so for domestic help. I had to wonder about that. They carried our stuff in and went to set up everything for us.
    He asked if we were hungry and to please dine with him. So we accepted and he led us to the dining room. The meal was served by these other two very pretty girls, also in these little uniforms—sort of like French maid outfits. I had to do a double take. Both were blonde, one tall and slender, the other short and petite, but built like a gymnast. But these outfits! They were cut low in front to show plenty of cleavage and the skirts were short, short. Even if one of them bent over slightly, panties were on display. They flitted around serving drink and food. I thought it was delicious, but at one point Magda said something sharply to one of them and she went all pale, like she’d made some kind of mistake or something. Anyway I didn’t think any more of it.
    We finished and Alexi took us back to the study for a brandy, served again by the two blonde girls. Now one of them, the petite one, actually spilled some on my sleeve while pouring and Magda spoke sharply to her, too. I said it was ok, no harm done. Alexi saw our concern and said something like, “Please don’t concern yourself. These are village girls who work for us. We try to train them, but they make mistakes. Magda will see to them later.”
    Yeah, I had to wonder what “see to them” meant, but we were all done in, so it was off to bed. Alexi showed us to a suite upstairs. It was luxurious—two bedrooms separated by a sitting area. The girls took one and I took the other.
    But even exhausted as I was, I had a hard time sleeping. I finally did but hours later I woke up. It was a sound. I was hearing noises echoing through the large manor. There was a sharp sound, like an impact, or a twig snapping. And faint wailing. So I got up to investigate.
     When I got to the top of the stairs I heard sounds like  sharp splats or snaps… and sobbing. It was coming from somewhere downstairs. I was really curious now, and I went down to investigate. There was a stairway on the ground floor off a hallway that led down. The sounds were coming from there, from below. I tiptoed down. There was a corridor at the foot of the stairs that led to a wide doorway. The doorway was open and I could see in.
    It was a stone room lit only with torches and candles. What I saw was the taller blond serving girl strapped down over a frame. The girl had been stripped down to her drawers and these were down to her knees leaving her bottom bare. Magda was behind her holding something that looked like a bundle of switches. She was whipping this girl’s buttocks with it while she scolded her. She’d raise her arm and bring the switches down with a sharp thwack! The girl would flinch and plead—apparently for forgiveness. It was this repeated swish….thwack! and a sharp “yow” from the poor girl for several minutes. That’s what I’d been hearing. I must have seen fifteen or twenty strokes land on this girl’s bare bottom. But Magda just kept plying that switch and the girl kept flinching and mewling. Her ass was a patchwork of red welts when Magda finally stopped.
I watched, fascinated, until they let the girl up. She was sobbing and rubbing her bottom. Alexi was sitting in a chair just watching the whole thing, smiling. I figured that if they were done, and I’d better get out of there before they saw me, so I crept back up to the room.
    Here’s where it really gets weird. I got back into bed, but now I was wired, having witnessed this spanking of the tall blonde by Magda. But I fell into this half awake state, where you can’t quite sleep, but you sort of doze off, you know? Some time later I’m startled to see a figure in my doorway, like this apparition. It’s Magda. She is now wearing this corset with a very low top. I mean her breasts are spilling out of the top of it. Otherwise she has on stockings and a garter belt and that’s it. Her bottom and her pubic area are nude. And she is carrying a switch or a crop-like thing.
    “You’ve been naughty boy,” she says in this lilting tone, just flicking that switch. It was the first time I’d heard her speak English. “You were spying,” she says, but she’s smiling. “Shall I tell Alexi?” Well I say, “Don’t do that,” and I’m panicked— what he would think if he knew his wife was in my room practically naked? She is staring into my eyes and they hold me. I can’t turn away. It is the most intense gaze and I feel like I’m being drawn in. Then she swooshes the switch through the air. “Get up,” she says. It sounds like an order.
     I figure I’ve got to do what she says. The last thing I want is to get tossed out of here in the middle of the night. And, there was this odd compulsion to do what she ordered. It was like I was in some kind of a trance-like state that I could not resist. Her next command was, “Take down your pants and bend over the bed.” I try to plead with her, but I’m trying to be quiet too. The girls are in the next room. So I say, “Ok, ok.” I figure this is some kink of hers, but she held the upper hand. And I’m thinking—she’s sexy and half naked too, so where is this going?
     So I bent over the end of the bed and she lays that switch across my ass. I grit my teeth. I know what’s coming but whish….crack! That switch explodes across my ass. It hurts like blue blazes. I’m pleading that it was a mistake, I didn’t mean to spy, that I was curious, that it woke me up, anything. She wasn’t listening. I don’t know how many times she laced my ass with that switch. I lost count. Each time that sick whine and then this sharp explosion of fire across my ass. I’m trying to stifle a scream, and I’m thinking surely everyone can hear this. It’s like stripes of fire, that switch.
    I wasn’t prepared at all for what came next. She shoved me back on the bed. I’m lying on my back and—now you won’t believe this—I’ve got this erection. I’m not kidding. Somehow, I’ve got a hard on that won’t quit. Say, I hope that’s not too much information. Oh? You’re okay with this?  Hah! You like it, you say? Well, I’ll go on then.
    She crawled right up on the bed, straddled me, and impaled herself on my prick. Just grabbed that thing slid right down. Then basically, she had her way with me. I kid you not. I was being used. She started humping up and down, just riding me and pinching her own nipples. It seemed to go on for a long time. I don’t know how many times she climaxed but I eventually did too and that seemed to satisfy her. She got up and left silently, didn’t say a word. I fell asleep, exhausted.
    The next morning I got up and went into the bathroom to inspect the damage. I turn around look in the mirror and what do I see? My lily white ass, that’s what I see. Like nothing happened. But I remember it. I can still feel it. The girls got up and I asked them if they heard anything last night. They said no. Then I told them what happened. They thought it was either funny, or I was having them on. “Oooh, kinky!” said Adrienne. “A secret room? Like a dungeon? How medieval!” Janine was excited too. But they swore they had heard nothing. “We would have been sure to get up and watch if we’d known you were in here getting your ass spanked,” said Janine gloating. They thought it was funny, but I sensed an undercurrent of excitement, like they really would have liked to have seen both incidents.
    So now I had to wonder if I’d dreamt the whole damn thing. But I knew I hadn’t. We go down to breakfast and they all there just like last night. Magda gives me this knowing look and then I know, I KNOW, dammit…that last night was no dream. But how she did it, I still do not know.
    They fed us and we packed our stuff in the car after profusely thanking them for the hospitality. I’m thinking, lets blow this joint before Alexi figures out what wifey was up to last night. We got in, I turned the ignition and—nothing. Car won’t start. We fiddled with it for a while and Alexi called over a workman in his household employ, I guessed, an old guy named Grigor. Grigor somehow determined that we needed an alternator and he was sent to a neighboring village to see if he could find one. So we unpacked again and went back inside. Alexi told us we were free to explore the grounds of his estate and could we walk the dogs? I was nervous. The girls were delighted. He said he had work to do in his study. I don’t know where Magda went. I told Adrienne and Janine I’d catch up with them and I went back to the room for my jacket.
    Well, surprise of surprises, waiting in the room is little Natalia. That’s what she told me her name was. She was the short one of the two blonde serving girls. She speaks English too. She is seated on my bed and when I come in she stands up. She is wearing that French maid getup and I see she is holding a little leather oval paddle in her hand. I asked her why she was here and she says that I must punish her for last night, for spilling the drink. I say, “Forget it, it’s all right,” but she says, “No, no. Mistress will be angry if you do not chastise me.” So I’m standing there scratching my head and she says, “You must take this,” she hands me the paddle, “and spank me hard.” And I start to protest, but her face gets this look, like she’s really afraid and she says, “If you do not, Mistress will whip me. It will be much worse. Please.” And her eyes are pleading.
    So I took the paddle and I sat on the bed. She came over and stood to my right. She hiked her little skirt up and right before my eyes, she slips her panties down to her knees. Then she put herself across my knees. So I’m sitting there holding this paddle with little Natalia bare assed across my knee. And she’s got the cutest, plumpest little behind you’ve ever seen. You remember those gymnasts like Olga Korbutt and Nadia what’s-her-name? Comenich. Yeah, thank you. Well she was like that. She turns her head and looks back and says, “Please. Now you must spank me… hard.”
    I said “Ok, if that’s what you really want,” and I raised the paddle and gave her a swat right across the sit spot. Her bottom kind of jiggled. I spanked her again. She told me to keep going. So I got into a rhythm with it, smacking her every couple of seconds. The paddle flattened her ass when it hit and left a big red mark. But I kept going, one splat! after another. She started squirming and sort of humping up and down. I asked if she was ok and she said yes, to spank her thoroughly. Well, I guessed at that point she really wanted me to, so I launched into a full bore fanny paddling that had her yipping and wriggling. I kept it up for three or four minutes, laying one smack after another on that wriggling heiny of hers without letup. Her bottom was getting red as a beet, but she wasn’t begging off. I think she was actually getting off on it. She started humping her pelvis against my knee, rubbing furiously.
    When her bottom got to be a dark red, I figured it was enough. I helped her up. Her face was as red as her behind and her eyes were watery, so I guessed it had been hard enough and if she showed that behind to Magda, she’d probably be satisfied. But then another surprise. She kneels between my legs and fumbles with my zipper. Damn if she doesn’t pull my cock out, which is now hard as blue steel—even after the previous night. She says she must “thank me properly” for disciplining her. I was in no position to argue. She proceeds to go down on me. She uses her lips, her tongue—everything. It was an expert blow job that blew my head off. You still ok? I mean I’m just telling it like it was. Continue? Ok.
    After that she collected herself and left, smiling on her way out. I had to sit down for a minute and think. This place was crazy. I didn’t have much time because now the girls were back and I could hear Alexi and them talking. I descended the stairs just as Alexi was offering to take them on a tour of the manor. Now I got to explain. This place is huge. It looked like a fortress from outside—you know all stone and turrets, a few gargoyles. Very solid and gothic. So I’m interested; we all are. So Alexi takes us all around pointing out paintings and suits of armor and whatnot. His ancestors dated back to the 13th century and there were portraits of them on the walls. One in particular was striking. It looked like Magda—the dark hair, the seductive smile, the lush bosom. The writing was faded and I tried to read it. I think it said “Countess of Cjes”—and the rest was indecipherable.
    We went down to the wine cellar and Alexi described his collection. He said he had some rare wines with very unique properties and would we like to try some? He has this thin smile like he knows something we don’t, and I’m getting nervous again. But the girls said sure, so he selected an old dusty bottle with no label on it.
    We went back upstairs. By then it was evening. No Grigor yet with the alternator. Alexi suggests we open the wine from the cellar. We adjourn to a large drawing room. There is a fire going and it’s very warm. We toast and sample the wine. Right away it hits me—this stuff is special. There is this big blast of warmth that radiates out from my core and I feel light headed and euphoric. “We sample this only. It is special. See that you do not over indulge.” He says this with this knowing smile. Then he excuses himself. He must see to supper supposedly.
    We look at the bottle. This stuff is really good. “Do you think he’ll mind?” Adrienne clearly wants more. We all do. The taste and its effects are instantly addictive. We pour some more into our glasses. The girls are lapping this stuff up, and they feel it too. I’m getting distinctly horny. There was something in that wine. Pretty soon the bottle is empty.
    So I said, “There is something strange here. Now do you believe me about last night?”
    Adrienne says “Wow, maybe that did happen.” I then tell them about this morning and Natalia. “No!” they chorus and I hold my hands up, swearing it happened. “These people are seriously kinky,” said Janine. By that time we are sitting on this rug in front of the fire and we are all feeling horny. It’s the damn drink. I start to make out with Adrienne and Janine joins in. Pretty soon clothes are dropping off and we’ve got our hands all over each other. So there we are groping each other, we’re down to underwear, writhing around on the rug which is this big plush animal skin and we are oblivious to everything except the intense feelings of pleasure from all the intimate groping. We don’t notice that Alexi and Magda are standing right there, watching.
    “Naughty children, did you consume all of it?” We’re all startled by Alexi’s voice. He’s standing there, shaking his head like he’s caught us with our hands in the cookie jar. With him is Magda. Both of them are wearing clothing like from another era. It looks like garb that I had seen in those old portraits—and she has that crop in her hand. “I warned you and you disobeyed. It seems I must show you what happens to disobedient guests, then. You will accompany us to our special room.” Alexi takes both girls by the arms and Magda grips me. We allowed ourselves to be led, in a daze it seemed, made compliant by the drink and aroused as hell. It’s like the previous night. I feel like I’m under some spell. I have to obey.
    The room was down another stairway and it was striking now that I could see the whole thing. It was a large stone room with that frame in the center. It had straps on it. There was an X-cross made of old timbers attached to the wall. Support pillars had iron rings up high for securing hands. There is a thing like a rack, a pair of rails with restraints. But this thing is supported on a joint or pivot.
    “This is a very old manor,” says Alexi. “In long ago times serfs and servants were brought here for punishment. So now that you have disobeyed my instructions about the wine, you must be punished also.” All the time Alexi is smiling broadly, but he is serious. Magda’s eyes are smoldering with lust. I saw that look last night.
    Adrienne says, “What do you mean, punished?” And Alexi tells her,“You, Adrienne, you will mount the block.” He says this like it is the most natural thing in the world, like there is no question but that she will obey him. Like an automaton. So Adrienne did; she placed herself face down over the block. Her feet barely touched the floor and her head hung down. The posture accentuated the curve of her bottom. Magda secured the straps around her wrists and ankles. “You see? Now you are secured—a naughty girl awaiting her punishment. How does it feel?” Adrienne just gasped and wriggled. Later she would tell me that she had lost control of her will, that she had been hypnotized or something by Magda and Alexi.
    “You Janine, will assume the position on the rack.” Same reaction. Like an automaton Janine climbed up and lay face down on the rack. Magda strapped her in.
    “Now, my friend. These are your women, so you will punish them for us.” I stammered that what the hell, I couldn’t do that. And he said, “Oh but you will—or Magda will. Which will it be?”
    I made a feeble protest, but I think I had to do it, to punish them instead of Magda, whom I think they feared. When I turned to look for an implement what I saw was a bunch of switch bundles, birch rods is the proper name, standing up in the urn. Magda selected one and handed it to me. She went over to the frame and took Adrienne’s panties down, baring her bottom. Then she pointed and said, “Twelve strokes.”
    I stood to Adrienne’s left and tapped her bottom with the rod. Then I drew back and brought the rod down. It made this hissing sound as it traveled through the air and landed with a thwack! Adrienne’s bottom cheeks quivered and she yelped. Magda said, “Continue. Harder. ”
    So I whipped Adrienne again with the birch rod. She gasped and kind of wriggled. I was trying to go easy, but Magda kept saying “harder” until I fell into a stroke that used some forearm and a bit of wrist. Then the rod made a satisfying thwack! when it landed and Magda seemed to approve. So it was twelve strokes. Eleven more times I brought the whippy rod down on Adrienne’s fanny. Eleven more times that swish…thwack echoed off those stone walls accompanied by Adrienne’s yips of pain…or maybe pleasure, I don’t know. I could see her sex and it was dripping wet. Janine watched wild-eyed. She knew she was next. After the twelve Magda stood in front of Adrienne and pulled her dress over her head. She was naked underneath. She cupped Adrienne’s face in her hands and pushed it into her crotch. She commanded Adrienne to use her tongue. Then she turned to me with this look of absolute lust and said, “Twelve more.”
    I whipped Adrienne for the second time, twelve more stinging strokes applied to her delectable rear. It bounded and wriggled, but she really was strapped in, so there was only so much she could do. But good God, it was sexy. Magda threw back her head and moaned as Adrienne’s tongue brought her off, even as the rod scorched her bottom.
    Then it was Alexi’s turn. I was instructed to pull down Janine’s panties. She’s lying face down over a crosspiece on the rack. It makes her bottom arch up. Now I’m looking at two pale white moons that I’m supposed to punish. Magda handed me a short whip. It was a multi-thonged whip with about six or seven lashes about a foot and a half long attached to a foot long handle. Alexi stood at the front of the rack and loosened his pants. I see his prick pop out and it’s erect. Janine understands what he wants. He places it against her lips and she willingly takes him into her mouth. Now I understand the reason for the pivot. Alexi can rock the frame up and down thrusting and withdrawing. At the same time Magda commands me. “Whip her,” she says.
    I bring the whip down on Janine’s ass. The thongs splay out and her bottom cheeks quiver. Again and again at Magda’s direction I apply the whip. Janine’s bottom clenched and unclenched as I lashed it. The thongs were soft but still…it stung I’m sure. But like Adrienne, Janine is aroused. All the time Alexi is rocking the frame while Janine pleasures him with her mouth. After several minutes and maybe thirty lashes Alexi gives this giant shudder and comes furiously. He withdraws with a soft plop. At that point for seemingly no reason at all the lights in the chamber grow very dim.
    We’re all in a daze for a minute, but when I look around, Alexi and Magda are suddenly gone. It’s like they vanished. I figure they just walked out. So I unstrapped Adrienne and Janine. Once I got them loose they basically attacked me. There were some furs or something in a corner of the chamber and we made for those, the girls tearing off what clothes I had left. And we ended up there. First Adrienne put me inside her and rode me for a while. Then she switched places and Janine had me. Then they knelt side by side and I went from one to the other. Meanwhile they kissed and groped each other. It was a wild scene, the wildest in this young lad’s memory. Somehow we finally ended up in bed upstairs going at it until we collapsed.
    So the next morning we wake up, still groggy and confused from last night and that damned potion. We get up and stir around. The house is silent, completely silent. We got dressed and went downstairs. There is nobody around. No Alexi, no Magda, no blond serving girls, no Grigor. Nothing. Nada. Plus—and this is really weird. The place is dusty, and it’s cold. There are no lights on. It’s almost like no one lives here. We are standing there looking around, trying to figure all this out. Adrienne says, “This is seriously creepy. Let’s get out of here.”
    Well, sure, “but what about the car?” I say. Anyway, we go outside and I put the key in the ignition and voila! It starts right up. Well, we hightailed it out of there. We finally found our way to a main road and after driving for a few miles north hit Gorski finally and got directions. We wanted to head back toward Bucharest, but decided to stay in Gorski at an inn overnight. The innkeeper’s wife spoke a little English and we asked her, “Who lives in the big manor house on the hilltop a few miles south of Gorski?” She crosses herself and shakes her head. “Strigoi,” she says. “Strigoi.”
    It’s been a lot of years since that happened, but I did do some checking later. I mean, I was curious as hell, right? Turns out that the location of that manor house was, as near as I can tell, an estate called Csejete, originally a Hungarian castle of the same name. The official records say that there was an old estate there that was seized when the communists took power after WW II. It was turned into a prison for political prisoners, former members of the nobility. But here’s the thing—after the wall fell, it was deserted, and it became a derelict. Nobody there.
    So, what do you think? Weird enough for you? You know, the way you’re looking at me, it reminds me of Magda. You even look a bit like her. A lot like her, actually.
    What’s that? Sure we can continue this discussion elsewhere. Your place or mine? Just kidding.
    Oh, really? Yours? Lead the way.
By the way I didn’t catch your last name.
    Bathen? Is that what you said? It almost sounded like you said…Bathory. But hey, wait up, I’m coming.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s