England, 1753.

One would not be too surprised by the number of individuals who probed the relationship between life and death through portraiture in the eighteenth century. Psychologically, 'the haunted portrait' inflamed the imagination as an aesthetic concept that allowed for the exploration of the past within the present.

Thomas Wingfield had been haunted by an apparition of Lady Beatrice Alderton, whose portrait had caused him to eventually lose his mind. From 1642 until his untimely death ten years later, he often spoke of the nineteen-year-old stricken maiden who he said had visited him during the night to ravish him. Dead in life but alive in art, the portrait of the blonde beauty hung on display at Stone Castle until purchased by Sir Francis Dashwood to adorn his newly opened club.

The myth that the subject was a vampiric, seductive force that encapsulated a beautiful young woman at the seemingly paradoxical intersection of the spiritual and the corporeal amused the Lord.

x

The Hellfire Club was a term used to describe several exclusive clubs for high-society rakes established in Great Britain and Ireland in the 18th Century. Male-only members wished to participate in what was socially perceived as immoral acts, and the members were often involved in politics. Sir Francis Dashwood and the Earl of Sandwich formed one such club, and the initial members would meet at the George and Vulture Inn throughout the 1740s.

The membership of Sir Francis's club was limited to twelve at first, but soon increased. On moving into Medmenham Abbey, Dashwood had numerous expensive works done on the building. It was rebuilt in the style of the 18th-century Gothic, and the picture of Lady Beatrice found its way to be placed above a doorway to one of the playrooms. Other, more explicit pictures portrayed mythological themes, phallic symbols, and other items of a sexual nature.

Meetings occurred once a month, and the members addressed each other as 'Brothers' and the leader, that being Sir Francis, as 'Abbot.' Whenever female guests were invited, they were referred to as 'Nuns.' During the meetings, members were required to attend in the buff, ready for anything, as it were. Rumours abounded of scurrilous, blasphemous, libellous, and bawdy behaviour, all of which were unquestionably illegal under the laws of the time. And all that was said was true.

x

John Austin and his companion for the evening, Richard Bertram, rocked and rolled in the horse-drawn carriage as it made its way to its final destination of Medmenham Abbey. At the hour of eleven, the cab pulled up at the old stone building set on its grounds. At first, it appeared deserted, but on further inspection, there were flaming torches in ornamental brackets attached to the front wall.

"How many rooms are there?" asked John of his more experienced colleague.

"Fifteen. For tonight's purpose, there will be six, including three large chambers for group couplings and three smaller ones for more private indulgences. I prefer those myself. Give me a couple of nuns and a riding crop, and you won't see hide nor hair of me until dawn."

Bertram, forty, had been a member of the club for five years and had graciously invited his nephew, who was twenty years younger.

"It's time for you to spread your wings, young fellow, me lad. Let me put some colour into your cheeks and show you the time of your life."

Now that he was almost twenty-one, this sounded like a splendid idea, but the closer the time came to the meeting, John felt extremely nervous. To appear naked before other men played on his mind, let alone fornicating with numerous ladies of the night. He had been brought up under the care of middle-aged parents who had loved him and kept him from sin, so that when he was past eighteen years of age, he was innocent of the opposite sex. He soon began to think about women with every waking moment as he became mature and ever-horny.

"We shall meet with like-minded pleasure seekers who revel in the mystery and abstruse delights therein. Our women fail to live up to our expectations, and it is on our shoulders to seek that which is denied. Tonight, ye shall cohabit with exciting and voluptuous creatures who are willing to be used and abused."

The main part of the Abbey was large and looming, fronted by two turrets with peaks. Two separate wings spread out from the main building, lower in height but wider. The well-dressed men stepped out of the cab at the steps leading up to the front door, and immediately, the door opened.

"My dear brother Bertram. So good of you to come once more. And this be young Austin?"

They were greeted at the door by Sir Francis, who had a white robe with the hood up over his head. He was flanked by two tall females, both of whom wore black nun habits but with their heads uncovered. Their long, dark hair fell straight over slender shoulders, and their faces were heavily made up. John had never seen such gorgeous and sexy women, and the pair of them looked ready for action.

"Tonight is just a private party with a select number of personal guests. Just to break in a few new nuns. Let's go inside."

As they entered the club, John was immediately taken by how dimly lit the place was. There appeared to be one large open area, uncarpeted, subdivided by black walls and more torches. What furniture there was had shrouds covering it, and one long bookshelf ran along the West wall. Further along, John saw the six rooms. Three on one side and three on the other.

Erotic tapestries of perverse activity from ancient Rome hung on the walls, leading the way to the rooms of sin. Others portrayed alluring belles designed to titillate and entice. John noted one particular portrait of a fair-haired stunner with an enigmatic smile and sultry dark eyes. She wore a sleeveless tea dress in red and black with a low neckline that displayed a superb pair of rounded breasts. Her blonde curls hung loose and fell upon creamy shoulders.

"Be you well, John?"

Bertram shook the young man out of his reverie, staring at the bewitching image, and pointed at the desirable maiden.

"Who is this beauty in the portrait? She is fearsome and handsome and possesses a certain charm and a strong aura."

"I know not. Sir Francis? Who is this?"

The Abbott drew back his hood and nodded.

"You have good taste, my brothers. I do like this picture with a passion. It is said to be the likeness of Lady Beatrice Alderton, painted in the year 1415. It is said that Lady Beatrice had been married less than a year when her beloved husband, Lord Percy Alderton, was slain at the battle of Agincourt in 1415. King Henry was most distraught to lose such a heroic figure as Percy and sent his condolences to Beatrice, together with the body of her betrothed hero. Heartbroken, the Lady swore to emulate her lost one and took it upon herself to don his armour and continue the fight against the French army. Alas, no warrior was she and fell almost immediately at the battle of Valmont in Normandy."

"How sad a tale."

"Quite. Before she set sail for the continent, Beatrice commissioned a portrait of herself, and the legend goes that she ordered the artist to infuse the wood panels with Percy's blood and semen before painting her image. The love-torn beauty believed this would cement an eternal bond between the lovers for as long as the painting exists."

"But hold. You say this is from 1415? Yet she is adorned in finery that is current."

"Well spotted, young Austin. Some have told tales of the lovelorn Lady leaving the wood panels and becoming animated in the small hours, forever seeking some sort of consolation and peace from those who are living. She seems to progress with the times."

"So, you think the painting be haunted?"

"Aye, sirrah. Many who have stayed have related strange encounters that cannot be explained other than supernatural occurrences or witchcraft. Now, let us amuse ourselves."

John looked on at the captivating woman on the wall, and although he had not met the evening's nuns on offer, his ardour was for the Lady above his head alone. Her rosebud lips pursed in a perfect pout, but it was her dark brown eyes that struck him the most, hypnotising as they were beneath long lashes. He felt the aura of centuries in the picture in one moment of capitulation, and he experienced an inexplicable rapture for the blonde vision.

"'Tis a pity thou could not be here with us on this very night, My Lady. I would dearly wish to kiss those succulent globes of yours and to make amorous fornication. I would forsake anything for one heavenly rut with thee."

"Come on, time to gather."

John was aware of the other guests now, and they all filed into the first door on the left of the recess. He saw a long clothes rail with numerous white robes hanging from it. Also, chairs were being used as he watched the brothers undress and fold their clothing. Once they were denuded, they each donned a robe and stood patiently. One or two chuckled and made merry banter as Bertram followed suit. The Abbot returned and led the group to the next room, which was spacious and contained three large circular beds and a few upholstered chaise lounges.

"Bring in the nubiles," announced Sir Frances, and a round of applause broke out as ten such nuns filed in, all in black habits.

John did not recognise the guests as they muttered and shuffled on bare feet. They all responded to the Abbot ringing a handbell and immediately disrobed. Illuminated by dozens of candles, the females posed seductively in the buff, displaying the finery of quivering tits and jiggling buttocks with their darkish hair flowing free. John was undoubtedly a virile young buck and instantly became erect at the sight of so many fetching and willing women standing before him. He checked out the other brothers, who all sported hard-ons in one shape or another, and he smiled smugly as he realised that he was gloriously more well-endowed than most.

Bertram became animated, and John's gaze followed him as he joined the others who were now active. The air in the chamber was soon thick with a heady mix of sweat and perfume as John focused on six couples cavorting on one of the big round beds. Arms and legs flailed in the air as they all got down to it. On one of the three such beds, two nuns were in the classic 69 position as one determined brother tried to mount the one on top doggy style. John looked on in awe at the proceedings, wanking his throbbing organ idly.

He moved closer, his nudity now no longer an embarrassment, and gleefully watched unsolicited sexual acts unfold right in front of him. The sheer wantonness and depravity evoked an indiscriminate lust within Austin. One slender nun rose, positioned herself above a brother, and impaled herself on his upstanding pole. A ginger-haired chap knelt behind another willing filly and filled the girl with his glorious cock. She knew not and cared not who drove into her doggy style as she was royally shunted to and fro on her knees. Two more couples lay side by side in the missionary position, and both reckless stallions appeared to compete with each other as they slammed in fully with their chosen partners.

"Greetings. You're pretty young, aren't you?" John turned to see a busty nun caress his right bicep and run a hand through his tousled hair. "What are you? Twenty?"

"Twenty-one," he blurted as he was eyed up like he was a piece of meat.

"I'm Rose. I like your cock. Fuck me with it."

John was led to a less occupied bed where Rose lay on her back and spread her willowy legs wide, exposing her bush, which was dappled with moisture. John knew not if she had already taken cock this evening, but he settled on top of her soft form gladly. She hooked her legs behind his back as his stiff dick nudged open her sopping wet cunt. He moaned loudly as he began to move back and forth. To slide in and out of the mature woman's love tunnel felt like heaven, and after a few tentative thrusts, John stepped up a notch. He was oblivious to the other members, who by now were deep into a mass orgy. Cries of bliss and groans of pleasure rang out as the chamber descended into a fuck fest.

"I say," trilled one brother as he ceased in mid-stroke up one perspiring nun. "Who's the fair-haired one?"

John casually twisted his head, his cock deeply embedded in his accommodating fuck partner, and he also stopped in mid-rut to take in the spellbinding vision of loveliness who ambled between beds. The blonde was the only figure still dressed, and John thought the elegant red and black sleeveless gown to be similar to the one worn by Lady Beatrice Alderton in her portrait. On further inspection, the desirable maiden herself appeared to be an exact double of the blonde in the picture.

Was this a dream? John was dumbstruck as he extricated himself from the woman he had been shagging and turned to look at the young woman in the portrait he had been infatuated with barely an hour ago. Was she now bodied? It appeared to be so, and in the flesh, she looked even better. Her body was perfection, and her hair was luxurious. For a long, disorientating moment, John felt disembodied, and he slipped from the nun beneath him, and his twitching erection bobbed most excitedly at this new temptress.

"John Austin. With me."

The blonde one held out her hand, and John got to his feet and put his hand in hers. She seemed to have a purpose, and they left the larger room and chose to enter one of the smaller ones. The unannounced young woman seemed almost luminescent in this room that was barely lit by three candles. Her curling fair hair fell around her face and shoulders, and her proud bosom very nearly spilt out of the plunging neckline of her fine gown.

"You wished for me, good Sir, and here I am."

She spoke in a bright and lilting tone as her dark-browed eyes burned into his. The flickering candles cast shadows and light on the voluptuous female's alabaster skin. She let her gown slip effortlessly from her curvy frame, and John stared hard at her twin hemispheres. They were exquisite globes of flesh, firm and smooth, and topped by two succulent nubs that screamed to be suckled. Her entire body was a delight, and he especially liked how her back had a subtle valley that curved into the two half moons of her ripe buttocks. Her honeyed nest of pubes was almost transparent, and her labia glistened pink clearly as a result.

"Could it be? I wished for Lady Beatrice, and you are she?"

"It is, dear John. I have been waiting for someone such as you. You will serve me, give me purpose. Just listen to my voice. Just listen to my voice and take a deep breath." He obeyed and stared into her dreamy, dark brown eyes. Her voice was so captivating, so unworldly. "That’s right, keep looking into my eyes. It has been so long since I was restored. I would have you ravish me, and in return for your most valued male gift, I will love you like no other. You have spirit and, hopefully, spunk. I hunger for what you may offer. I have no other choice, as I cannot breach the walls of this Abbey, as I am tethered to my portrait for as long as it exists. Since my dear husband died, I find that I require men."

John reached out and cupped her very real breasts in trembling hands. Beatrice squirmed against his naked frame and let him smother her left tit in his wet lips. Her head tilted up as his tongue swept over her mammary from left to right and then up and down. She stroked his erection with two hands as he pressed his face into her ample cleavage.

"Would you like me to...?"

"Very much so, My Lady."

He pre-empted her, and the blonde dropped to her knees. Her mouth was warm and irresistible as his spear was drawn inside, and he held the back of her head as he was duly sucked and drooled over. She was amazing as her head bobbed, and her right hand cradled his heavy balls.

"You are fully laden, it would appear. I like that."

She increased the rate of her slobbering on his pulsating shaft, and together with her vibrating tongue, he gulped as he shot his seed down her throat.

Beatrice hummed in delight as she welcomed the gush of sperm and semen coating her tonsils. He saw his seed overflow from her mouth and trickle down her chin and onto her heaving breasts. He was licked clean, and Beatrice savoured every drop.

"Damn it all!" he bemoaned at the seeming loss of fornication.

"Fear not. See, thou be still firm and erect."

"Glory be! But how?"

"Worry ye not, and bring me your spike."

The pair floated to the bed, and the siren pulled him down on top of her majestic body. John widened her legs with his, and his rock-hard dart slid through her slick folds to the wet darkness of her cunt. Beatrice groaned and held onto him as he drove into her. She ran her hands down his back, tracing the contours of his muscles as they fucked, and his head dipped so that he could nuzzle her throat. Her husky breath whistled in his ear as he rose and fell, and his toes dug into the mattress as he stretched out fully.

"Wonderful!"

The bare skin of the fair nubile was exquisite as he rubbed her with his chest and groin. Her hard nipples bore into him as his phantom lover transformed into a sexual tornado. He had never known such a woman as she as they bucked and thrashed in each other's arms. Her toes curled as John glided back and forth between her firm thighs. His nether cheeks clenched in exhilaration as his formidable shaft filled her so.

"Take it, take it," he intoned.

"Gladly, gladly," she replied in the same tone.

John's cock throbbed with a pent-up fury like never before as he continued to pick up the pace even more. His strokes were urgent, brutal, in fact, and the blonde cared not as she pushed up to meet him like a desperate woman who had been deprived of sex for too long. Their bodies clapped together, and the bed creaked beneath them as he drove into her luscious body.

"I love it when you pound me! Don’t be gentle! Ravish me!"

He snarled, thrusting even harder, and her cunt ached from the force of him. Her fingernails clawed at his back and left red lines down his muscles. He stared down at her and saw such passion burning in her dark eyes.

"Yes, come in me."

"I'm close."

Beatrice mashed her frame against his, revelling in the touch of his solid chest on her spheres of flesh. John hammered into her with force; his only focal point was to achieve orgasm. He was pounding so hard that she was sliding along the sheets. How he wished that this would last even longer as he plunged his cock deep into her silky embrace. She clenched her muscles to increase the sensation, and together, they rapidly brought him closer to a second mind-blowing orgasm.

"Stay with me. Stay with me forever," he implored as he burst like a cannon, and she heaved and quaked in gratitude.

His welcome semen flooded her quim, and as he came down from his well-earned, he withdrew from her with a wet, sucking pop, and his milky semen trickled down her legs.

"Stay with me. Stay with me forever," he implored as he burst like a cannon, and she heaved and quaked in gratitude.

Had it been an hour? Or perhaps mere minutes? But there was more.

"Oh, god, that's good...Here I come again!"

John's balls tightened, and his ejaculate flooded her cunt, and Lady Beatrice squeezed his flanks with her thighs.

"You fill me up so good, John Austin. Your sperm offering is acceptable, and by this bond am I replenished."

John shook as the insatiable spectral creature wriggled her hips to entice more of him into her. He was more than surprised when Beatrice rolled them and pulled him on top of her. John was still as stiff as a board as she impaled herself on his cock. He saw a wildness in her smouldering eyes, and her entire body seemed to glow with life.

"My god, we're still going!"

Beatrice writhed and rocked into his groin, and he held her wide hips as she fucked him with powerful plunges. She moaned on each deep penetration, and her whole body shook as she exulted in all her glory.

"I love having a stiff cock ram into my cunt. You want to cum and cum."

"Yes! I want to cum and cum! Yes!"

She clenched around his thrusting dick, increasing the friction, making him race toward a climax. Enamoured with her sensual beauty, he put all his passion into his strokes, staring down at her with such lust burning in his eyes. His balls were churning now with the urgent need for yet another release. He had to come and come soon. And she knew it and desired it.

"Come for me, John."

"Yes, my love."

"Come again."

"I'm almost there."

"Come. Come."

John felt his dick engorge and expand as he expelled his jizz inside her clutching muff. He still held her hips as he remained buried in her sloppy quim. Satisfied or replenished, Lady Beatrice rose, and both of them watched his cock exit her well fucked cunt. Cum dribbled down her milky thighs, and she scooped up any escaping semen and licked her fingers lest she lose even one single drop. His eyes flickered and closed, and the blonde seemed to dissipate as he surrendered to slumber.

Beatrice sighed as her body radiated and pulsed with glorious heat and fervour. Raw strength and vigour gave her an elation that she remembered from when she and her eternal love, Sir Percy Alderton, cohabited in their brief time together.

She would subsist for some considerable time, but she knew that to persevere, she would still require men and their sperm to remain deathless in her attempt to keep her memory of her beloved alive. Her spirit had not crossed over to the other side, thanks to her preservation in art form. As long as her portrait remained so, her love would prevail. It had been more than a hundred years between visits from the astral plane, and she hoped that her next time would be sooner rather than later.

End