The Pleasure and Cruelty

Eros, Sadism, Pleasure, Cruelty, Enjoyment, Love, MadnessCruel x xinxii 1600


The first appointment left indelible trace on his skin, but there is going to be another appointment, at which he couldn’t escape and she that doesn’t want to give up. The selected location is an apartment block on a mountain pass. No one has to see or hear. Nobody has to know and everything can become possible. The roots of evil come out of the dark underground and turn into reality.


The Pleasure and Cruelty


The pleasure and cruelty – «The roots of evil»

Even more madness in this story … but it’s so appealing!
A madness that you feel, you live, and you don’t want to let it go.

The alienation has different tendencies, but in this book, in this extraordinary story out of the ordinary, the author takes us into a world where everything seems possible, where there is no longer any law, any rule, and where the desire of living and feeling his adventure, pushes him to transgress any prohibition.
This long descent into hell keeps us in suspense from beginning to end.
Once again, my feeling in reading this other new book of the author, is that nothing and nobody can change the trajectory of this man eager for new sensations, increasingly strong and more intense and go all the way to his story once again at the risk of his life.

This is something innate in him, a decision evaluated, because more than ever he needs to live and nothing can stop it, even if today it would seem that the student surpasses the teacher.

This is what she thinks and loudly proclaims, but it’s her vision, and no one will ever really know if one outweighs the other.

Everyone perceives and interprets in its own way.
Both characters are swallowed by the same desire to push even further their limitations, towards an inevitable hell which tends them its arms, in this madness without continuity solution that they live, and that threatens at any time to catapult them to a point of no return.

These are the feelings that are felt in reading this book, of which only the author really knows the innermost mechanisms.

A book that makes us cringe, fascinates us, embraces us and binds us to this story, until you have reached the last page, where the demon lights up his second cigarette.

A. V.


«These events and the characters are real and only the names have been changed».

Chapter 1


Eight hundred miles to go with your heart in turmoil and your skin burning.
From time to time I had to lean over to one side rather than the other, to reduce the pain from my cracked ribs and I had to avoid deep breaths that caused more violent pain.

It bothered me even to hold the steering wheel, because of the swollen finger, that inexplicably, now began to peel.

Nothing to do but follow with my eyes, the black band that slipped under the wheels of the car, which by now was traveling in the night, while in the mind thoughts chased in freedom as fast as lightning , but so condensed to contain large memory spaces , usually kept away from me.

Perhaps it all started in those early summer afternoons , when still a child , they closed me in my room and I remained to watch the blades of light that filtered through the closed shutters.
.I liked them, because inhabited by the dust that danced unstable, and to me they seemed full of life.

Unable to sleep I climbed over the sill to come up the roof of a small building just a little lower, and from there on the branches of a large pear, and finally to the ground.

Nearby, the austere Venetian villa, with the walls streaked by the lichen.

In addition to the silence, I could hear the croaking of frogs and cicadas chirp.
My favorite place was at the bottom of the park, in the darkest place, where the sun never broke the shaded that were forever protected by trees with powerful branches.

Among them the most beautiful was a huge loquat tree with branches so large to seem the arms of a giant on which you could walk standing.
I leaned on the edge of the well calling out, and the echo send them back to me from its depths, coloring them from time to time with always different tones, as if that was not my voice.

It had to be very deep, because the light did not come down to the bottom, and I shouldn’t go there.
I was told that it was inhabited by large snakes capable of catch and drag me down into the darkness.
I peered closely at the dark and I was ready to escape quickly if I had seen them come up to me.

Tired of my game, I sat down and watched the figures carved in a series of bas-reliefs in stone that surrounded the well.
Snakes and naked women.
I turned around to see if anything was different, but no … nothing but snakes and naked women.
The women, the bottomless well … the mystery, my soul stolen … or sold.
I resigned myself and stood there sitting on the ground, following with my fingers the profile of those figures.

For a long time my fingers caressed that stone breasts and my mind chanted bold wishes, while little shivers ran through my skin and the fiery thought.
Even then, women exercised a fatal attraction on me.

Then out of there with a long frantic rush headlong into the sun, until I fall exhausted to the ground in the tall grass, and I stood there with open arms, looking at the sky, I don’t  know for how long, lost in the fantastic visions.
Or it all started on Elena’s lips?

Not yet fully a teenager, I wanted to kiss her lips with a craving that day after day grew on me, and I had never kissed anyone yet.
Elena was slender and with almost no breasts, but I didn’t care and I spent all my time wishing her mouth, which she stubbornly refused me.
That night everyone was gone and we were alone, in the vineyard in front of our homes and I felt thrilled.
Suddenly Elena tells me:

– Do you still want to kiss me?

I was amazed and excited at the same time.

– Yes, yes, very much.

Elena makes a turnaround on herself and reaches out to me, handing me her lips, but in the dark, partner my impetuosity, I didn’t see the long pin that she was holding between her  teeth , and that pierced through my lower lip sticking the gum.

The pain is excruciating and sudden anger shock through my mind, together with the sudden disappointment, but I calm down immediately.
Now I can punish her and revenge myself and do what I want with her, and I still want her lips, with more force than ever before.

I tear off the pin and squeeze her in my arms and kiss her with fierce greed, and now I feel like I completely own her, but hers not, there are many hidden, getting weaker as we slip on wet grass. My excitement and fury and her resistance diminishes more every moment that pass, while I clumsily slip off her panties, never leaving her lips that I’m eating in small bites that hurts.

My madness is infectious and her teeth start tightening my lips, while her hands cling the grass around us and tear it along with clods of earth, then they are on my face, in my mouth and everywhere.

“That first kiss has the sweet taste of my blood, and of the grass and earth.”

Or again, it all started many years before.

The feral sense of pleasure had begun to sprout into me a long time before, when I was six years old and I was secretly reading «Un poignard dans la gorge, Malaise a Milan, La fournaise infernal, Les rats du Tamige, la nuit des espions…».
Or simply, it was always written in my DNA?
I wonder that as I touch my lips, swollen out of proportion, but I don’t care to know for real.

I couldn’t go home in those conditions and not because of the burns on my chest and belly, that somehow it was possible to hide under clothing, but especially for those numerous one that marked my forehead, and for the bite marks that had blackened my cheeks, and for the deformed lips.

There was no possible explanation for the injuries on my chin and upper lip and for the ear lobe slightly detached.
It was already night when I stopped at a grill to call my brother, who at that time lived alone.

He told me:

– Come to me and stay as long as you want.

He came up to me in the dark and hugged me, but I moaned loudly because of my sore ribs, and he looked at me in surprise, then in the light, just inside the house:

– Roberto, what have you done?

A wound on my upper lip, one on the lobe of an ear, and other on the chin.
The lips distorted from the swelling and the checks almost completely black for the capillaries broken by her bites and almost thirty red burns on the forehead, completed my appearance, and no car accident could have got me in those conditions.
I couldn’t think of any good lie, so albeit reluctantly, and without getting into details, I told him what happened.

– I can’t believe you let her do this to yourself.

– You’re completely crazy, and you’ve never been like that.

– It’s useless that I try to explain it to you, you wouldn’t understand.

– Roberto, I hope I never meet this woman, because I have no idea what I      would do to her without thinking twice.

He went to get my things in the car, then he put me in bed and I could finally rest and I fell into a deep sleep, which made him worry, because it lasted too long, but I needed it.

I stayed with him for almost a month, while the scars healed slowly and the marks on my forehead disappeared, but what hurt me the most  were the cracked ribs, which prevented me even to turn around when I was in bed.
It took more than a month to no longer feel all the pain of the ribs.

The messages from Laura wove my days and never came into her mind to ask how I was and if I was healing well or not.

Slowly I was sliding into the abyss, from which I miraculously come out.
The tension had taken away my appetite and I was visibly losing weight, and nothing served the insistence of my brother that invited me to eat more.

Her messages were full of words of love and violent desires and always, the two things were inextricably blended, and I still didn’t understand how it was possible to combine two things so different.

In that month and a half that had passed since our meeting, I had time to get back in shape, and the ribs were almost completely healed, while all the burns were almost completely healed and they didn’t annoy me anymore.
In the meantime we had continued to meet on the net every night, and to feel via SMS by multiplying our desire to meet.
But we never used the phone.

She wrote:

– It’s not a furrow Roberto, the one you live in me, but an infinite life.

– Together we aren’t under everyone, but above all.

And I:

– I think about how everything was so hard, and also get to Tellino, it seemed impossible.

– I do not see in what other world I could if not in yours, because it is a universe in which we are both so well, and we have created it ourselves.

– We’ll be together.

– Yes Roberto, and then you always tell me that I have no option if you , but in fact I do not want anybody but you , only you, always you.

– There may be millions of choices for me, but they are invisible because I see and feel that you belong to me only.

– For me it is the same thing said differently, I do not see anything but you.

– Roberto I feel you flow through my veins, beyond you, there is nothing in my mind.

– You live in my senses and we dare together.

– We dare ways not accessible to everyone, not visible.

And I said to her:

– Yesterday I thought about what you said, «You will experience things that other people did not know or dare to imagine during the course of a lifetime»… I don’t know if you remember.

– Yes, of course.

– Did it have a precise meaning?

– Roberto I think so.

– That sentence doesn’t make sense.

– It doesn’t make sense, if it was said by any other person I had know.

– Yes, of course this yes.

– With you I can get where I want, but not in words, actually.

– I can do what I want of you and that’s why I just want you.

– You don’t give me limits, you have limits you know?

– You’re awfully mine.

In the last two weeks, Laura had become irritable and anxious, and the desire to enjoy was now a fever that consumed her and made her angry and unstable.

At the same time when I walked down the road that led me to Aprica, she was with her father in a bus that from the south was bringing her in Tirano, a town very close to Aprica, a mountain pass where I had rented an apartment where we had to meet.
From time to time I received on the phone some of her message, which informed me about the progress of the trip, and others who spoke of love and intense wishes.

– You are like turbines in my brain, like a fire in my head, like a snake in my sex.

– You scratch and fill and satisfy it.

– I wish I was with you I miss your breath, I miss your body, I miss you love.

– My love, my desire is to give you millions of torture, but I wouldn’t be able to kill you, no,  because I really love you, I want to be with you, I’m excited and I quiver with desire.

– It’s not all … I want to see you suffer to enjoy yourself completely, but I also want to see terror in your eyes.

– Everything is love; I can do what I want with you.

Sometimes I was amazed by her determination and her desire for me and sometimes I asked her, why she would want me, and she answered:

– Because I feel powerful with you and I feel like I own you, and I can do everything, just everything on you.

– Everything is pretty damn exciting if it is ruthless, everything is wonderful with you.

A terrible mix.

She always alternated love and pleasure, where the second was a constant that dominated everything else.

It was raining and the roads were clogged and the last part was the worst, and it climbed up the mountain in hundreds of curves, the view was bad, and it was pouring in that last part.

I was wearing summer clothes and as long as I was in the car, the heating system avoided me problems, but I knew that I would be wet and frozen when I reached my destination.
I wanted it to be the day after, to stop the anxious state in which I found myself.

1 Comment

  1. Pingback: The Pleasure and Cruelty | crueleros

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