12-17-2025, 02:15 PM
Erotic adventures in Renaissance Italy: Tough, no-nonsense Eric Random, an English mercenary soldier on his way to Venice in 1527, encounters rough-and-tumble sex at every inn along the way. The randy roughneck never misses an opportunity for an erotic adventure: stable lads, tavern servers, and page boys all fall to his remorseless assault, only to be tossed aside as Eric moves on. And then something unexpected happens … This graphic portrait of degenerate, brawling, and licentious Renaissance Italy unfolds as a history that's never been taught in the classroom.
Quote:An hour later he roused himself, washed in the stream, and dressed. Soon he was riding along the deserted highway toward Venice. In the distant flat fields of the Veneto under the pale blue sky little dark figures were already toiling away, scraping their meager living from the land, hauling nets from the strands of the Po. To think that he might have been doing just that in flat, featureless East Anglia filled Eric Random with sickened contempt. There was more to life than that, he was sure. He had not found it yet, but at least the restless search was exciting. He did not mind that his many boys left no lasting impression on him; the constant need for more kept him too busy to worry. Neither did he care that his warrior’s profession was so destructive, after all only fools thought anything could be built to be secure and lasting in this evil mortal coil. Life was an adventure, fleeting and always new. One had to grasp it as it came, and when one became old—but he never ventured to imagine old age… Eric Random never expected to make old bones in his profession.
A hundred yards ahead on the dusty road he spied a carriage, stationary and surrounded by horses and dismounted riders. They seemed to be having trouble with the vehicle, perhaps a broken axle. In spite of the numbers, they appeared to pose no threat in their evident distress and he decided to ask if they needed aid. Carriages usually meant wealthy worthies, and at this point on the road Venice had to be their only destination. They might prove a useful contact in his search for employment.
As Eric drew near he made out four lightly armed men, little more than set dressing, garbed in yellow and black livery, helping two sturdy servants from the same household who were working on one of the wheels. The carriage was of heavy build, its wooden frame ostentatiously trimmed with red leather panels and brass studs. Strong as the four horses between its traces looked, they would no doubt need to rest every five miles pulling such a ponderous weight. By the cut of their apparel, the carriage’s two passengers stood in the shade of a withered tree, one thin and toady looking, the other mean and square jawed, both obviously annoyed at the delay.
With them, though slightly apart, stood a boy who couldn’t own more than eighteen years. He was slim and blond, and poorly dressed.
A gentle pull on Duke’s reins and the horse came to a halt as Eric offered assistance. The square-jawed fellow just managed a hint of politeness in his gruff refusal. But Eric had no time to get angry at the discourteous response. It was the boy who attracted his attention. And the lad looked back as intently. For several heartbeats Eric became lost in that penetrating gaze. Dizziness almost overcame him. He didn’t really take in any of the youth’s features, all he could see were the eyes in his perfectly formed face. Blue, limpid, beautiful. They engulfed him.
With a start, and before he had realized, Eric spurred on his horse and rode off with the fleeting sensation that he had not been in control. Normally he could outstare any man or boy, so why had he ridden off so quickly? He still felt the eyes burning through his mind. Odd. He thought he’d felt a pang of intense sadness emanating from the cerulean orbs that penetrated to his very soul.
The gelding’s slight stumble on a jutting stone in the track brought Eric back to himself from the strange, dreamlike world he’d inhabited for… how long? Within a dozen heartbeats Eric Random had no recollection of these thoughts. He was back to his usual self, anticipating Venice, money, and new boys to lay.