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The Devil In The Convent
- Thread starter Velut Luna
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Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Devil in the Convent 6
6
The pool’s grey now and lashed by wind and waves of rain, washing away the torpor of the night.
A sea-storm has unleashed the elements , thunder and lightning , livid clouds chasing each other across the fearful ridges of the raging sea, black as lava.
The heat and light of the fire in the fireplace warms the inside of the hammock, we castaways embrace each other’s bare skin.
Now through the cruel eye of her Hasselblad digital camera, she takes images and snatches the soul of her model, that offers itself to her as an object.
My every curve, every shadow, every light, every reflection, in the cold light that rains down from outside, mixed with the warm glow of the flames, transforms and sublimates every look, every pose, every movement, every portion of my anatomy.
Clothed with wild hair, like a wounded animal, like an animal in heat, I’m the female who yields up her gifts, a prisoner bound, tortured and raped.
The bruises on my body enhance the portraits preserved in the binary memory.
I'm her rag doll, a doll of naked flesh, her laboratory specimen, a body for autopsy.
Every point is documented, catalogued, digitised, analysed in every detail.
Every curve is transformed into formula, into geometry, into a differential equation, into numerical integrals.
Outdoors, naked in the lashing rain, I’m crowned with blackthorn, my wrists bound with rough rope nailed to the cross-beam.
I walk the Way of the Cross that leads to the place of supreme sacrifice among the rocks of the cliff, in this corner that’s invisible to the world.
I’m raised upright, hung from the projecting angles of the rock on the cross-beam to which my bonds are nailed.
Long, wet, black hair clinging to my face, my breasts heaving, my arms torn by my weight, my ankles are bound and roped to large nails fixed in crevices in the rocks, at different levels, so I cannot hide but have to offer my fledgling sex to the vitreous eye of the camera.
Dancing till I drop, until the final moment, the last cry, the last breath, my head thrown back staring into space, my face is transfigured in the ecstasy of pain, my body is left exposed in this humiliating position for the wind and the rain to witness my agony.
And then the deposition: I’m laid on the wet rock, coarse to my skin, as if in the arms of my weeping mother in a sculptured, nude pietà.
I’m caressed, kissed, hugged until life returns.
And it’s all filmed, photographed, documented for our secret joy, under the warm rain restores vigour to my body.
6
The pool’s grey now and lashed by wind and waves of rain, washing away the torpor of the night.
A sea-storm has unleashed the elements , thunder and lightning , livid clouds chasing each other across the fearful ridges of the raging sea, black as lava.
The heat and light of the fire in the fireplace warms the inside of the hammock, we castaways embrace each other’s bare skin.
Now through the cruel eye of her Hasselblad digital camera, she takes images and snatches the soul of her model, that offers itself to her as an object.
My every curve, every shadow, every light, every reflection, in the cold light that rains down from outside, mixed with the warm glow of the flames, transforms and sublimates every look, every pose, every movement, every portion of my anatomy.
Clothed with wild hair, like a wounded animal, like an animal in heat, I’m the female who yields up her gifts, a prisoner bound, tortured and raped.
The bruises on my body enhance the portraits preserved in the binary memory.
I'm her rag doll, a doll of naked flesh, her laboratory specimen, a body for autopsy.
Every point is documented, catalogued, digitised, analysed in every detail.
Every curve is transformed into formula, into geometry, into a differential equation, into numerical integrals.
Outdoors, naked in the lashing rain, I’m crowned with blackthorn, my wrists bound with rough rope nailed to the cross-beam.
I walk the Way of the Cross that leads to the place of supreme sacrifice among the rocks of the cliff, in this corner that’s invisible to the world.
I’m raised upright, hung from the projecting angles of the rock on the cross-beam to which my bonds are nailed.
Long, wet, black hair clinging to my face, my breasts heaving, my arms torn by my weight, my ankles are bound and roped to large nails fixed in crevices in the rocks, at different levels, so I cannot hide but have to offer my fledgling sex to the vitreous eye of the camera.
Dancing till I drop, until the final moment, the last cry, the last breath, my head thrown back staring into space, my face is transfigured in the ecstasy of pain, my body is left exposed in this humiliating position for the wind and the rain to witness my agony.
And then the deposition: I’m laid on the wet rock, coarse to my skin, as if in the arms of my weeping mother in a sculptured, nude pietà.
I’m caressed, kissed, hugged until life returns.
And it’s all filmed, photographed, documented for our secret joy, under the warm rain restores vigour to my body.
enjoythe idea of it all being recorded on the Hasselblad is entoxicatingly erotic.... wonderful writing Luna!
and here is you camIf I could, I should not be satisfied by our both crucifixion in Angers !
You make me dreaming, Luna ...So hot!!!
hasselblad..................
merci ma petite amie
P
Pia
Guest
I thought I recognised the villa.... I adore BB!Velut Luna asked for me to post something about the movie "Le mépris" which was made at this Villa Malaparte ...
So, there is ...
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Contempt
Original film poster
Directed by Jean-Luc Godard
Produced by Carlo Ponti
Georges de Beauregard
Joseph E. Levine
Screenplay by Jean-Luc Godard
Based on Il disprezzo
by Alberto Moravia
Starring Brigitte Bardot
Michel Piccoli
Jack Palance
Giorgia Moll
Fritz Lang
Music by Georges Delerue
(French and US release)
Piero Piccioni
(Italian release)
Cinematography Raoul Coutard
Editing by Agnès Guillemot
Lila Lakshmanan
Distributed by Embassy Pictures (US)
Release dates October 29, 1963 (Italy)
20 December 1963 (France)
October 1964 (US ltd))
18 December (US wide)
Running time 103 minutes
Country France
Language French, English, German, Italian
Budget $900,000 (est.)[citation needed]
Contempt (French: Le Mépris) is a 1963 film directed by Jean-Luc Godard, based on the Italian novel Il disprezzo [A Ghost at Noon]. 1954. OCLC 360548. by Alberto Moravia. It stars Brigitte Bardot.
Plot
American film producer Jeremy Prokosch (Jack Palance) hires respected Austrian director Fritz Lang (playing himself) to direct a film adaptation of Homer's Odyssey. Dissatisfied with Lang's treatment of the material as an art film, Prokosch hires Paul Javal (Michel Piccoli), a novelist and playwright, to rework the script. The conflict between artistic expression and commercial opportunity parallels Paul's sudden estrangement from his wife Camille Javal (Brigitte Bardot), who becomes aloof with Paul after being left alone with Prokosch, a millionaire playboy.
While founded on Alberto Moravia's story of the progressive estrangement between a husband and wife, Godard's version also contains deliberate parallels with aspects of his own life: while Paul, Camille, and Prokosch correspond to Ulysses, Penelope, and Poseidon, respectively, they also correspond in some ways with Godard, his wife Anna Karina (his choice of female lead), and Joseph E. Levine, the film's distributor. At one point, Bardot dons a black wig which gives her a resemblance to Karina. Michel Piccoli also bears some resemblance to Brigitte Bardot's ex-husband, the filmmaker Roger Vadim.
Also notable in the film is a discussion of Dante – particularly Canto XXVI of Inferno, about Ulysses' last fatal voyage beyond the Pillars of Hercules to the other side of the world – and Friedrich Hölderlin's poem, "Dichterberuf" ("The Poet's Vocation").
Cast
Production
- Brigitte Bardot as Camille Javal
- Michel Piccoli as Paul Javal
- Jack Palance as Jeremy Prokosch
- Giorgia Moll as Francesca Vanini
- Fritz Lang as Himself
- Raoul Coutard as the cameraman
- Jean-Luc Godard as Lang's Assistant Director
- Linda Veras as a Siren
Italian film producer Carlo Ponti approached Jean-Luc Godard to discuss a possible collaboration; Godard suggested an adaptation of Moravia's novel Il disprezzo (originally translated into English with the title A Ghost at Noon) in which he saw Kim Novak and Frank Sinatra as the leads; they refused. Ponti suggested Sophia Loren and Marcello Mastroianni, whom Godard refused. Finally, Bardot was chosen, because of the producer's insistence that the profits might be increased by displaying her famously sensual body. This provided the film's opening scene, filmed by Godard as a typical mockery of the cinema business with tame nudity. The scene was shot after Godard considered the film finished, at the insistence of the American co-producers. In the film, Godard cast himself as Lang's assistant director, and characteristically has Lang expound many of Godard's New Wave theories and opinions. Godard also employed the two "forgotten" New Wave filmmakers, Luc Moullet and Jacques Rozier, on the film. Bardot visibly reads a book about Fritz Lang that was written by Moullet, and Rozier made the documentary short about the making of the film, Le Parti Des Choses.
Contempt was filmed in and occurs entirely in Italy, with location shooting at the Cinecittà studios in Rome and the Casa Malaparte on Capri island. In a notable sequence, the characters played by Piccoli and Bardot wander through their apartment alternately arguing and reconciling. Godard filmed the scene as an extended series of tracking shots, in natural light and in near real-time. The cinematographer, Raoul Coutard, shot some of the seminal films of the Nouvelle Vague, including Godard's Breathless.
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Devil in the Convent 7a
7
I turn on the phone after three days of self-imposed exile from the world, 15 missed calls, 20 unread texts, all from Gennaro, from the first tender messages to the more dramatic, and on to the finally desperate - the cooking’s going well! I press a kiss on the screen, having turned on 'lips scan', it forms the imprint of my lips as a photo in red.
With that I reply to his last message, and turn off the phone again.
Luna- 'Eulalia, when I told you about the fall I hid something'.
Looking at me, surprised and stern, your prying eyes would read my soul right in the depths of my pupils.
Luna- 'I found a box in the hallway wall, I didn’t have the courage to tell you. I think it contains something very dangerous.
I found a black cape, and a hood with red crosses sewn onto the fabric.
It looks like the hood worn by an Inquisitor. Then there was a sheaf of papers sewn into a book, I've not opened it… and there were some bundles of black cloth, I opened one and found an instrument of torture, a Pear of Agony!
And at that moment a devilish power forced my hand that was holding it to rub it on my body, to excite my breasts, and my sex almost till I had an orgasm. I managed to open my hand and it fell on the floor.
Then I hid it all in a box and locked it in the store-room. I'm terrified just thinking about what happened'.
Eulalia- 'If you were a little empty-headed nutter, I wouldn’t give a toss for what you’ve told me, I would just think that you wanted to frig yourself with it, but knowing you as I do, I have to believe you’re telling the truth - it worries me a little, that you didn’t confide in me before?'
Luna- 'I was afraid , but I hoped I could overcome the trauma myself, but the thought of it torments me. I’m not even thinking of sending everything over to the Agency without first getting to the bottom of what it is – I’m mean it’s certainly an important discovery, I‘d like to investigate, I want find out about the rest of the contents, and read that sheaf of papers.'
Eulalia- 'Well we’ll stay here for now, let's enjoy the vacation in this wonderful place.
The stuff isn’t going to run away, and you’ll need to do a proper inspection, to burrow into the wall of that Convent, then we can examine your finds with all the necessary precautions'.
I still say nothing about the secret compartment in the box. I’m certainly in fear of it, but still I want to open it, alone.
7
I turn on the phone after three days of self-imposed exile from the world, 15 missed calls, 20 unread texts, all from Gennaro, from the first tender messages to the more dramatic, and on to the finally desperate - the cooking’s going well! I press a kiss on the screen, having turned on 'lips scan', it forms the imprint of my lips as a photo in red.
With that I reply to his last message, and turn off the phone again.
Luna- 'Eulalia, when I told you about the fall I hid something'.
Looking at me, surprised and stern, your prying eyes would read my soul right in the depths of my pupils.
Luna- 'I found a box in the hallway wall, I didn’t have the courage to tell you. I think it contains something very dangerous.
I found a black cape, and a hood with red crosses sewn onto the fabric.
It looks like the hood worn by an Inquisitor. Then there was a sheaf of papers sewn into a book, I've not opened it… and there were some bundles of black cloth, I opened one and found an instrument of torture, a Pear of Agony!
And at that moment a devilish power forced my hand that was holding it to rub it on my body, to excite my breasts, and my sex almost till I had an orgasm. I managed to open my hand and it fell on the floor.
Then I hid it all in a box and locked it in the store-room. I'm terrified just thinking about what happened'.
Eulalia- 'If you were a little empty-headed nutter, I wouldn’t give a toss for what you’ve told me, I would just think that you wanted to frig yourself with it, but knowing you as I do, I have to believe you’re telling the truth - it worries me a little, that you didn’t confide in me before?'
Luna- 'I was afraid , but I hoped I could overcome the trauma myself, but the thought of it torments me. I’m not even thinking of sending everything over to the Agency without first getting to the bottom of what it is – I’m mean it’s certainly an important discovery, I‘d like to investigate, I want find out about the rest of the contents, and read that sheaf of papers.'
Eulalia- 'Well we’ll stay here for now, let's enjoy the vacation in this wonderful place.
The stuff isn’t going to run away, and you’ll need to do a proper inspection, to burrow into the wall of that Convent, then we can examine your finds with all the necessary precautions'.
I still say nothing about the secret compartment in the box. I’m certainly in fear of it, but still I want to open it, alone.
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Devil in the Convent 7b
You takes me by the hand and leads me into the playroom.
Eulalia- 'Raise your arms and rest them on the column, turn your back against it, spread your legs.'
Lifting the side-locks of my hair she kisses my neck and throat, while your hands caress my breasts, my back, my belly, my buttocks.
You grips my breasts strongly, pulling them forward from the base of the areoles again, again, again, and again - a jet of milk bathes the marble column, while her tongue keeps sipping drops from my nipples.
Your hands play with my clit and labia while she’s kissing and licking my pink anus. I moan, groan with pleasure as my juices flow as from a spring down into your mouth.
The sweet torture makes me arch my back so I yield my offerings to you, soft and ready.
Then you violently introduces your fingers into my hole, closing and opening them. The pain’s as intense as the rape of the Pear – you wants me to experience in all its horror the violence of torture.
Your hand is thrust deep into the dilated tunnel, I give out groans of pain as she works in the depths of my secret recesses. I squirm, wincing at every assault - yet I want to, yes I want this torture, it brings me to the heights of pleasure, my mind is lost in ecstasy, my body’s trembling, the violence of my orgasm shakes my whole being.
I fall on my knees but the relentless torment continues – go on my Goddess, this slave-meat is yours, do with me whatever you want - I want, I want! My madden mind’s in a whirlwind.
I wake up, you are kissing me,
Eulalia- 'You passed out!'
Luna- 'You’ve brought me among the gods on Olympus.'
I kneel at your feet, my goddess of Olympus, I hug your legs, you grabs me by the hair, raising my head and pushing my face against your belly.
I kiss you, lick your labia, my tongue excites your clitoris, I explore the secrets of your wet pussy wet in a deep cunnilingus.
Then you turns around and offers the other orifice, I softly lick, while I fit my fingers into your throbbing vagina.
Now we lay down on the ground and with flickering tongues explore all our damp secret parts, entwined like ivy on the walls, like entangled branches, like snakes with their prey.
Our bodies seem united as a single mythic animal created by desire, born to be a new fusion of atoms, souls, cravings.
We spend hours in the mutual gift-exchange of our pleasure, regardless of light or dark, sun or moon, wind or rain, in the ceaseless gale of our passion.
Like the waves of the sea foaming against the rocks, our orgasms follow one another inexhaustibly.
In this place of voluntary seclusion, where our every caress, every kiss is a prayer to our gods, we pass our days.
You takes me by the hand and leads me into the playroom.
Eulalia- 'Raise your arms and rest them on the column, turn your back against it, spread your legs.'
Lifting the side-locks of my hair she kisses my neck and throat, while your hands caress my breasts, my back, my belly, my buttocks.
You grips my breasts strongly, pulling them forward from the base of the areoles again, again, again, and again - a jet of milk bathes the marble column, while her tongue keeps sipping drops from my nipples.
Your hands play with my clit and labia while she’s kissing and licking my pink anus. I moan, groan with pleasure as my juices flow as from a spring down into your mouth.
The sweet torture makes me arch my back so I yield my offerings to you, soft and ready.
Then you violently introduces your fingers into my hole, closing and opening them. The pain’s as intense as the rape of the Pear – you wants me to experience in all its horror the violence of torture.
Your hand is thrust deep into the dilated tunnel, I give out groans of pain as she works in the depths of my secret recesses. I squirm, wincing at every assault - yet I want to, yes I want this torture, it brings me to the heights of pleasure, my mind is lost in ecstasy, my body’s trembling, the violence of my orgasm shakes my whole being.
I fall on my knees but the relentless torment continues – go on my Goddess, this slave-meat is yours, do with me whatever you want - I want, I want! My madden mind’s in a whirlwind.
I wake up, you are kissing me,
Eulalia- 'You passed out!'
Luna- 'You’ve brought me among the gods on Olympus.'
I kneel at your feet, my goddess of Olympus, I hug your legs, you grabs me by the hair, raising my head and pushing my face against your belly.
I kiss you, lick your labia, my tongue excites your clitoris, I explore the secrets of your wet pussy wet in a deep cunnilingus.
Then you turns around and offers the other orifice, I softly lick, while I fit my fingers into your throbbing vagina.
Now we lay down on the ground and with flickering tongues explore all our damp secret parts, entwined like ivy on the walls, like entangled branches, like snakes with their prey.
Our bodies seem united as a single mythic animal created by desire, born to be a new fusion of atoms, souls, cravings.
We spend hours in the mutual gift-exchange of our pleasure, regardless of light or dark, sun or moon, wind or rain, in the ceaseless gale of our passion.
Like the waves of the sea foaming against the rocks, our orgasms follow one another inexhaustibly.
In this place of voluntary seclusion, where our every caress, every kiss is a prayer to our gods, we pass our days.
Very well done : I love the Pear of Anguish, but dare to try it!!! It's wonderful !!!
"the pear of anguish" such a wonderful term, it almost makes me want to try it, but I have fewer options as to where to try it !
I cant understand how women can prefer a little bit of flesh, stuffed of blood, rather than the delicious and sweet fingers of another woman .....
Well, I'm partial to those "delicious and sweet fingers" myself, but don't knock the blood sausage
What's that? Oh, you're right, there IS a camera in that photo
Nice work dear Luna
LittleSiss
Sorceress
Beautifully written and wonderful pics, too!
"Our bodies seem united as a single mythic animal created by desire, born to be a new fusion of atoms, souls, cravings."
Wow!!!
"Our bodies seem united as a single mythic animal created by desire, born to be a new fusion of atoms, souls, cravings."
Wow!!!
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Devil in the Convent 8
8
The hydrofoil takes us back to Naples , the driver’s waiting for us at the pier to take me home, we kiss goodbye, ‘I'll see you in a few days my Goddess.’
I’m hesitant as I enter my house, trying to detect if anything has happened in my absence. Everything is as I left it ten days ago. I look down at desk , the box , the store-room door’s still closed, the key’s where I hid it.
Stripped of the silk veil that covered my naked body, under the automatic shower I savour the sweetness of the droplets flowing to caress me.
Little by little, a strange uneasiness creeps over me, a feeling as if a hand were slightly touching my skin, exploring every curve, every detail. I feel a breath of moving air that chills me, a shiver runs down the path of my senses.
I shrink, afraid, I cover myself to hide from the gaze of something that I can’t make out, an ethereal presence that is in my space. I seems to see in front of me a figure of light, which calls me by name and says :
Spirit- ' What do you want to hear and see , to learn and to know? '
Luna- ' Who are you? '
Spirit- ' I know what you want, and I'll be everywhere with you. Just keep in mind everything that you will see, and I shall instruct you.'
This said, it falls silent.
In an instant it forms into a shadow that begins to sink down, dark and dreadful. It spreads out in a spiral, then turns into an shapeless form of agitated mist, exhaling smoke as if from fire. It produces a kind of sound, a moan, an inarticulate cry, that seems to be the voice of the fire.
Luna- ' Maronna ! Maronna ! I’m pissing in terror! '
I run to find my phone to call Eulalia, it is on but doesn’t work, I press the buttons but nothing appears. I scrabble on the floor, furious,
Luna- ' Sfaccìmme ! Sfaccìmme ! ' ('Cum! Cum!')
I try to get out onto the terrace but I bump into an invisible wall that prevents me from reaching the door, I run to escape through the front door, naked and wet, another invisible wall! Hysterically I beat my fists against the barrier, it’s like a slab of elastic that throws me back with all the force I throw against it. Terrified I run back into the living room, screaming and trembling with terror.
Spirit- 'Don’t be frightened fear Luna, I haven’t come to hurt you! '
Luna- 'But who are you? Who are you? What do you want from me? Vattènne ! ' (Go away!)
Spirit- 'I am a spirit, I’ve come from the chest of mystery. I was a prisoner, and you’ve set me free.'
Luna- 'Vattènne ! Vattènne ! ' (Go! Go!)
Spirit- 'My name is your name, Cynthia goddess of the moon.'
The light touch of her hand to my arms folded over my head to protect me, manages to calm down a little.
Luna- 'I'm afraid ! Why have you come here ? What do you want from me? '
I’m trembling like a leaf blown by the wind, at the mercy of events so alien, I’m shivering with cold and fear, a prisoner in my own home.
Spirit- 'I'll give you my powers, you'll see the past and the future, you will know the mysteries of the soul '.
Luna- 'I don’t believe in such things, you're evil and want to upset my mind - who sent you?'
Spirit- 'Calm down, don’t be afraid, listen to me and do what I tell you. I need you. I am incorporeal, and without going through a body I cannot act. You will not regret helping me ' .
Eyes dimmed with, and surprised, softened, by this request for help, in a faint trembling voice I reply:
Luna- 'Tell me, what do I do ? '
Spirit- 'Take the box you brought home, turn it over, look at the bottom.'
The moisture left from the rag I used to clean it has vanished, and the wood as it’s dried has shrunk. On one of the short sides a crack has appeared where the edges meet.
Spirit- 'Use the letter opener to force the frame.'
A crack, then the frame is detached, underneath where it was, a small keyhole is revealed.
Spirit- 'Take the little key that’s among the items, and open the secret compartment.'
Touching nothing but only the key, I tip the over box on the carpet. Trembling, I insert the key into the lock, turn it, there’s no resistance, the lock opens, the cover moves.
I tilt the box to one side and out from the hidden compartment falls something wrapped in canvas, and a sheaf of papers sewn in a book.
Spirit- 'Unwrap the cloth.'
A single golden almond, and a silver cup covered with symbols. The hand is gently caressing my hair.
Spirit- 'My spirit dwells in that golden almond. It is a powerful talisman that will protect you. You must keep it with you, I will reveal its secrets.'
The almond transmits strange sensations to my hand, hot and cold at the same time, a very light electrical pricking, a vibration like the purring of a cat.
Now I don’t hear the voice any more, but it speaks to my mind, the spirit is in me!
8
The hydrofoil takes us back to Naples , the driver’s waiting for us at the pier to take me home, we kiss goodbye, ‘I'll see you in a few days my Goddess.’
I’m hesitant as I enter my house, trying to detect if anything has happened in my absence. Everything is as I left it ten days ago. I look down at desk , the box , the store-room door’s still closed, the key’s where I hid it.
Stripped of the silk veil that covered my naked body, under the automatic shower I savour the sweetness of the droplets flowing to caress me.
Little by little, a strange uneasiness creeps over me, a feeling as if a hand were slightly touching my skin, exploring every curve, every detail. I feel a breath of moving air that chills me, a shiver runs down the path of my senses.
I shrink, afraid, I cover myself to hide from the gaze of something that I can’t make out, an ethereal presence that is in my space. I seems to see in front of me a figure of light, which calls me by name and says :
Spirit- ' What do you want to hear and see , to learn and to know? '
Luna- ' Who are you? '
Spirit- ' I know what you want, and I'll be everywhere with you. Just keep in mind everything that you will see, and I shall instruct you.'
This said, it falls silent.
In an instant it forms into a shadow that begins to sink down, dark and dreadful. It spreads out in a spiral, then turns into an shapeless form of agitated mist, exhaling smoke as if from fire. It produces a kind of sound, a moan, an inarticulate cry, that seems to be the voice of the fire.
Luna- ' Maronna ! Maronna ! I’m pissing in terror! '
I run to find my phone to call Eulalia, it is on but doesn’t work, I press the buttons but nothing appears. I scrabble on the floor, furious,
Luna- ' Sfaccìmme ! Sfaccìmme ! ' ('Cum! Cum!')
I try to get out onto the terrace but I bump into an invisible wall that prevents me from reaching the door, I run to escape through the front door, naked and wet, another invisible wall! Hysterically I beat my fists against the barrier, it’s like a slab of elastic that throws me back with all the force I throw against it. Terrified I run back into the living room, screaming and trembling with terror.
Spirit- 'Don’t be frightened fear Luna, I haven’t come to hurt you! '
Luna- 'But who are you? Who are you? What do you want from me? Vattènne ! ' (Go away!)
Spirit- 'I am a spirit, I’ve come from the chest of mystery. I was a prisoner, and you’ve set me free.'
Luna- 'Vattènne ! Vattènne ! ' (Go! Go!)
Spirit- 'My name is your name, Cynthia goddess of the moon.'
The light touch of her hand to my arms folded over my head to protect me, manages to calm down a little.
Luna- 'I'm afraid ! Why have you come here ? What do you want from me? '
I’m trembling like a leaf blown by the wind, at the mercy of events so alien, I’m shivering with cold and fear, a prisoner in my own home.
Spirit- 'I'll give you my powers, you'll see the past and the future, you will know the mysteries of the soul '.
Luna- 'I don’t believe in such things, you're evil and want to upset my mind - who sent you?'
Spirit- 'Calm down, don’t be afraid, listen to me and do what I tell you. I need you. I am incorporeal, and without going through a body I cannot act. You will not regret helping me ' .
Eyes dimmed with, and surprised, softened, by this request for help, in a faint trembling voice I reply:
Luna- 'Tell me, what do I do ? '
Spirit- 'Take the box you brought home, turn it over, look at the bottom.'
The moisture left from the rag I used to clean it has vanished, and the wood as it’s dried has shrunk. On one of the short sides a crack has appeared where the edges meet.
Spirit- 'Use the letter opener to force the frame.'
A crack, then the frame is detached, underneath where it was, a small keyhole is revealed.
Spirit- 'Take the little key that’s among the items, and open the secret compartment.'
Touching nothing but only the key, I tip the over box on the carpet. Trembling, I insert the key into the lock, turn it, there’s no resistance, the lock opens, the cover moves.
I tilt the box to one side and out from the hidden compartment falls something wrapped in canvas, and a sheaf of papers sewn in a book.
Spirit- 'Unwrap the cloth.'
A single golden almond, and a silver cup covered with symbols. The hand is gently caressing my hair.
Spirit- 'My spirit dwells in that golden almond. It is a powerful talisman that will protect you. You must keep it with you, I will reveal its secrets.'
The almond transmits strange sensations to my hand, hot and cold at the same time, a very light electrical pricking, a vibration like the purring of a cat.
Now I don’t hear the voice any more, but it speaks to my mind, the spirit is in me!
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Devil in the Convent 9
9
A heavy numbness comes over me, I fall to the floor as if I’m dead, but as in a dream I see a mountain, vineyards, fertile meadows, and a city with splendid palaces and temples, the sea, the Bay, Capri, Misenum, Ischia.
In the Temple of the Moon, I’m praying with the virgins to the Goddess to protect us from the imminent disaster.
For many days there have been slight earthquakes, these haven’t aroused much fear, they’re an ordinary phenomenon, but tonight there’s been a shock of such vehemence that everything seemed to be not just moving, but toppling over.
The oracles had been ignored, we already knew, we were telling people to save themselves and escape.
Our well had dried up, fumes from the soil were killing the animals, the birds had flown away.
But we were just accused of alarming the people, we were forced to stay silent.
A handful of soldiers entered the temple, breaking down the door. We were like swallows captured by hawks, they desecrated our bodies, then the Governor ordered our crucifixion on charges of sedition.
Planks thrown to the ground, despairing cries, blows on nails that pierce our hands, our violated bodies hanging from the trees in our own garden, a blood-red sun sets into a sea of blackness. We await death while the soldiers enjoy the performance of our naked, blood-spattered bodies, crucified.
We are doves being sacrificed while Vesuvius is screaming horribly in the red darkness of this dreadful night, spitting blood and fire. A desperate cry arises from the doomed city.
The sky to the east seems ripped apart by a huge bloody wound, and the blood-tinged sea withdraws into itself, seemingly forced back by the vibrations of the planet.
The coast advances, the horizon is crumbling, disintegrating into an abyss of fire. Shaken with deep gasps, the earth shudders, houses quiver on their foundations.
Already we’re hearing the dull thuds of tiles and debris that becoming detached from the roofs and eaves of the terraces, falling onto the paving-slabs of the streets, signs that herald universal destruction.
One single horrendous crunching sound rends the air, like crushing bone. Over the huge racket rise the desperate cries of women, screams of terror from people running here and there like blind men groping their way through the streets, raising their hands to the gods - but now the gods no longer exist.
It rises up, tearing the sky, a terrible cry, a voice of horror such has never been heard before. The sun rises, but it is livid, the way it appears during an eclipse. A giant tree of fire rises high out of the mouth of the volcano, a huge, wonderful column of smoke and flame that reaches into the firmament to touch the pale stars, torn by flashing puffs of fire which are flung out in sinuous, broken streams. Flames tear out, bursting in long ribbons like lightning, but much greater.
Down the sides of Vesuvius, lava flows towards the villages scattered among the green of the vineyards. The glowing blood of the lava is so vigorous that it forms veins with incredible violence across an immense area around the mountains and over the plains. Ash is beginning to fall, though it is still sparse, and a thick darkness descends, spreading all over the land, advancing like a torrent, a foretaste of the approaching fire.
Then in the darkness the ash becomes dense and heavy, everything covered by its thick blanket is strangely transformed. The cloud sinks onto the land, conquering it with its weight, dissolving, widening and covering the sea. It has already enwrapped and hidden Capri and the promontory of Misenum. This night will be the last of our world forever - like the day that saw the destruction of Herculaneum and Pompeii, and ours, buried alive in a tomb of dust and ashes.
Crashes disrupt the endless roar of the thunderstorm of May, the fury of the storm throws open the windows, breaks icy cold into the warmth of home, the howling of the wind creeps through the rooms, the clatter of hailstones drowns all the other sounds. I shut myself in the bathroom as the windows shatter, waves of rain invade my fragile shelter. I’m terrified, trembling, at the mercy of the elements.
Then the sky is calm. I rise. Half the windowpanes have to be replaced, my curtains are ripped, my furniture, my poor flowers on the terrace have been swamped, the Persian carpet is drenched in mud.
At least my bed was saved, and I throw myself on it, exhausted after the wreck.
My sleep is restless. I keep hold of the precious amulet in my hands, as a way to seek help, but I can’t banish from my mind the image of my inhuman crucifixion, obscenely exposed, my body caked with gobs of blood, mud of sperm and black ash, my mouth gaping open - not to scream in pain, just desperate for what little air remained in the cloud of hot gases from the eruption, and then, unable to breathe, gasping, drowning in the liquid mud and choking ash accumulating in my lungs, my eyes stretched wide in terror, my muscles straining with what little strength remained to me before my final spasm of death. Such an atrocity, only to have seen beyond the time barrier, as priestess of the moon I already knew!
9
A heavy numbness comes over me, I fall to the floor as if I’m dead, but as in a dream I see a mountain, vineyards, fertile meadows, and a city with splendid palaces and temples, the sea, the Bay, Capri, Misenum, Ischia.
In the Temple of the Moon, I’m praying with the virgins to the Goddess to protect us from the imminent disaster.
For many days there have been slight earthquakes, these haven’t aroused much fear, they’re an ordinary phenomenon, but tonight there’s been a shock of such vehemence that everything seemed to be not just moving, but toppling over.
The oracles had been ignored, we already knew, we were telling people to save themselves and escape.
Our well had dried up, fumes from the soil were killing the animals, the birds had flown away.
But we were just accused of alarming the people, we were forced to stay silent.
A handful of soldiers entered the temple, breaking down the door. We were like swallows captured by hawks, they desecrated our bodies, then the Governor ordered our crucifixion on charges of sedition.
Planks thrown to the ground, despairing cries, blows on nails that pierce our hands, our violated bodies hanging from the trees in our own garden, a blood-red sun sets into a sea of blackness. We await death while the soldiers enjoy the performance of our naked, blood-spattered bodies, crucified.
We are doves being sacrificed while Vesuvius is screaming horribly in the red darkness of this dreadful night, spitting blood and fire. A desperate cry arises from the doomed city.
The sky to the east seems ripped apart by a huge bloody wound, and the blood-tinged sea withdraws into itself, seemingly forced back by the vibrations of the planet.
The coast advances, the horizon is crumbling, disintegrating into an abyss of fire. Shaken with deep gasps, the earth shudders, houses quiver on their foundations.
Already we’re hearing the dull thuds of tiles and debris that becoming detached from the roofs and eaves of the terraces, falling onto the paving-slabs of the streets, signs that herald universal destruction.
One single horrendous crunching sound rends the air, like crushing bone. Over the huge racket rise the desperate cries of women, screams of terror from people running here and there like blind men groping their way through the streets, raising their hands to the gods - but now the gods no longer exist.
It rises up, tearing the sky, a terrible cry, a voice of horror such has never been heard before. The sun rises, but it is livid, the way it appears during an eclipse. A giant tree of fire rises high out of the mouth of the volcano, a huge, wonderful column of smoke and flame that reaches into the firmament to touch the pale stars, torn by flashing puffs of fire which are flung out in sinuous, broken streams. Flames tear out, bursting in long ribbons like lightning, but much greater.
Down the sides of Vesuvius, lava flows towards the villages scattered among the green of the vineyards. The glowing blood of the lava is so vigorous that it forms veins with incredible violence across an immense area around the mountains and over the plains. Ash is beginning to fall, though it is still sparse, and a thick darkness descends, spreading all over the land, advancing like a torrent, a foretaste of the approaching fire.
Then in the darkness the ash becomes dense and heavy, everything covered by its thick blanket is strangely transformed. The cloud sinks onto the land, conquering it with its weight, dissolving, widening and covering the sea. It has already enwrapped and hidden Capri and the promontory of Misenum. This night will be the last of our world forever - like the day that saw the destruction of Herculaneum and Pompeii, and ours, buried alive in a tomb of dust and ashes.
Crashes disrupt the endless roar of the thunderstorm of May, the fury of the storm throws open the windows, breaks icy cold into the warmth of home, the howling of the wind creeps through the rooms, the clatter of hailstones drowns all the other sounds. I shut myself in the bathroom as the windows shatter, waves of rain invade my fragile shelter. I’m terrified, trembling, at the mercy of the elements.
Then the sky is calm. I rise. Half the windowpanes have to be replaced, my curtains are ripped, my furniture, my poor flowers on the terrace have been swamped, the Persian carpet is drenched in mud.
At least my bed was saved, and I throw myself on it, exhausted after the wreck.
My sleep is restless. I keep hold of the precious amulet in my hands, as a way to seek help, but I can’t banish from my mind the image of my inhuman crucifixion, obscenely exposed, my body caked with gobs of blood, mud of sperm and black ash, my mouth gaping open - not to scream in pain, just desperate for what little air remained in the cloud of hot gases from the eruption, and then, unable to breathe, gasping, drowning in the liquid mud and choking ash accumulating in my lungs, my eyes stretched wide in terror, my muscles straining with what little strength remained to me before my final spasm of death. Such an atrocity, only to have seen beyond the time barrier, as priestess of the moon I already knew!
clap...clap...clap....
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Devil in the Convent 10
10
After my morning shower I get dressed to go to work. I’ve a chain tied around my waist and hanging down to my pubes, with a ring on the end to which is fixed my talisman.
I wear net stockings, no lingerie, stiletto-heeled sandals, a close-fitting black skirt below the knee, a sleeveless blouse that I leave open to below my breasts, a gold necklace with a Greek cameo, my hair in a bun-and-braided style, a touch of makeup and a dab of shocking scent.
On my left upper arm and both wrists I’ve, rings on every finger, and I’m wearing my new glasses. I put on my tailored sherry-shade jacket waisted with three-quarter sleeves.
Parking my car in the builders’ yard, I get out and walk as if on a movie set. Fifty eyes scan my anatomy. Gennaro looks at me stupefied, as if I were an alien descending from a spaceship. I look towards him and smile, his eyes follow me, but he stands where he is like a statue.
Don Carmelo comes up to me smiling:
Carmelo- ' Dr. Lucia , what a wonderful morning this is! If a good day starts with a good morning, today’s going to be the happiest of the year! '
Luna- ' Good morning, Don Carmelo, so it’s been good in Sicily?'
Carmelo- 'Yes, thanks Doctor, it’s a very important job. I’ve already organized the start of work for the summer, I’ll be very busy, and I’ll have to divide myself between here and Palermo. I’ll have the help of my brother in Sicily, but here Gennaro is already a good colleague, and you too know all about this site.'
Luna- ' Now I’ll go into the office get changed, I'll see you in ten minutes to arrange the inspection.'
Quickly I pull a one-piece suit over my naked body with the chain holding the amulet still tight against my skin, and put on boots and helmet, but still I look like a model in a fashion show. Don Carmelo and Gennaro are waiting for me in the Theatines’ chapter-house.
Carmelo- ' Good morning! '
Gennaro- ' Good morning! '
Luna- ' Good morning! '
Luna- 'Don Carmelo , last night’s storm caused extensive damage to my house, this evening can you come and see about making repairs?'
This phrase troubles Gennaro, why am I asking Don Carmelo? Am I trying to edge him out?
(‘Ó guaglione’ doesn’t understand, it’s my strategy to conquer him, to twist the rope around his neck!)
Carmelo- 'With pleasure , Doctor - I’ll be able to see your beautiful home. Gennaro’s told me that it has a spectacular view from the terrace, and you’ve made a wonderful job of renovating the building.'
Luna- 'Thanks Don Carmelo, I knew I could count on you and on your helpfulness.'
Gennaro is more and more jealous.
Luna- ' Well, now we’ll get on with planning the work. I’ve seen from the drawings that there are gaps between our buildings, and the construction that was carried out in the partial restoration of the Monastery of Sant’Arcangelo that are likely to hide parts of ancient buildings, probably deliberately concealed. That’s also shown by the the corridor and stairway we discovered. So, Don Carmelo, we need to form a team of two or three workers to accompany us in the inspection, ones who aren’t stupid idiots, and we must take flashlights with fully charged batteries so they don’t suddenly go out - and a spare pair, because it will take some time to map the whole area – it would even better to install lighting powered from the mains.'
Carmelo- 'And that’s just what I'll do, Dr. Lucy, I’ve already got the equipment ready for installing lighting, two electricians will lay the cables and lamps, and two other workers will go in first to remove any obstacles that we might encounter, and judge whether we can proceed. Gennaro will take the photographs and record the measurements. '
Luna- ' Then we can proceed , let's go !'
(I hope to find a passage that will reach the deepest level below the existing buildings, where the Temple of the Moon probably stood - if I'm not mistaken, it could be under the chancel of the abbey church.)
In the monk's cell the two electricians are installing switches and cables for the drill that will be used to make ducts for the cables and install the lighting fixtures. A worker opens the padlock on the chain securing the board that has kept the passage closed off, and that is then removed.
The two workers enter the corridor with lit torches, then Don Carmelo offers me his hand to accompany me, and we proceed behind Gennaro down the stairs to a level which would be about two metres below that of the cell floor. Gennaro takes measurements with a laser rangefinder, and a photo.
Two tunnels, to the right and left, each continue in a straight line up to where I can see walls. The passageway on the right goes straight for about ten metres, then it bends to turn right, where it would be alongside the exterior of the church.
Next we are behind the sacristy, then the chapter-house. On both right and left of this passage every two metres there are niches opening up into the convent, with sloping floors.
Next we find ourselves at the level of the impost of the vault, about three metres from the floors of the sacristy and refectory.
Now we go along the tunnel to the right, around about half the perimeter of the apse to where the passage is blocked. I immediately recognise that this wall is not of the same date as the building, as I see that the bricks are just set in a straight joint, not bonded into the apse wall, and the mortar is rougher, as if it was made in a rushed job to hide a passage that could lead behind the cells of the nuns, where someone would have been able to spy.
I need to figure out who and why!
10
After my morning shower I get dressed to go to work. I’ve a chain tied around my waist and hanging down to my pubes, with a ring on the end to which is fixed my talisman.
I wear net stockings, no lingerie, stiletto-heeled sandals, a close-fitting black skirt below the knee, a sleeveless blouse that I leave open to below my breasts, a gold necklace with a Greek cameo, my hair in a bun-and-braided style, a touch of makeup and a dab of shocking scent.
On my left upper arm and both wrists I’ve, rings on every finger, and I’m wearing my new glasses. I put on my tailored sherry-shade jacket waisted with three-quarter sleeves.
Parking my car in the builders’ yard, I get out and walk as if on a movie set. Fifty eyes scan my anatomy. Gennaro looks at me stupefied, as if I were an alien descending from a spaceship. I look towards him and smile, his eyes follow me, but he stands where he is like a statue.
Don Carmelo comes up to me smiling:
Carmelo- ' Dr. Lucia , what a wonderful morning this is! If a good day starts with a good morning, today’s going to be the happiest of the year! '
Luna- ' Good morning, Don Carmelo, so it’s been good in Sicily?'
Carmelo- 'Yes, thanks Doctor, it’s a very important job. I’ve already organized the start of work for the summer, I’ll be very busy, and I’ll have to divide myself between here and Palermo. I’ll have the help of my brother in Sicily, but here Gennaro is already a good colleague, and you too know all about this site.'
Luna- ' Now I’ll go into the office get changed, I'll see you in ten minutes to arrange the inspection.'
Quickly I pull a one-piece suit over my naked body with the chain holding the amulet still tight against my skin, and put on boots and helmet, but still I look like a model in a fashion show. Don Carmelo and Gennaro are waiting for me in the Theatines’ chapter-house.
Carmelo- ' Good morning! '
Gennaro- ' Good morning! '
Luna- ' Good morning! '
Luna- 'Don Carmelo , last night’s storm caused extensive damage to my house, this evening can you come and see about making repairs?'
This phrase troubles Gennaro, why am I asking Don Carmelo? Am I trying to edge him out?
(‘Ó guaglione’ doesn’t understand, it’s my strategy to conquer him, to twist the rope around his neck!)
Carmelo- 'With pleasure , Doctor - I’ll be able to see your beautiful home. Gennaro’s told me that it has a spectacular view from the terrace, and you’ve made a wonderful job of renovating the building.'
Luna- 'Thanks Don Carmelo, I knew I could count on you and on your helpfulness.'
Gennaro is more and more jealous.
Luna- ' Well, now we’ll get on with planning the work. I’ve seen from the drawings that there are gaps between our buildings, and the construction that was carried out in the partial restoration of the Monastery of Sant’Arcangelo that are likely to hide parts of ancient buildings, probably deliberately concealed. That’s also shown by the the corridor and stairway we discovered. So, Don Carmelo, we need to form a team of two or three workers to accompany us in the inspection, ones who aren’t stupid idiots, and we must take flashlights with fully charged batteries so they don’t suddenly go out - and a spare pair, because it will take some time to map the whole area – it would even better to install lighting powered from the mains.'
Carmelo- 'And that’s just what I'll do, Dr. Lucy, I’ve already got the equipment ready for installing lighting, two electricians will lay the cables and lamps, and two other workers will go in first to remove any obstacles that we might encounter, and judge whether we can proceed. Gennaro will take the photographs and record the measurements. '
Luna- ' Then we can proceed , let's go !'
(I hope to find a passage that will reach the deepest level below the existing buildings, where the Temple of the Moon probably stood - if I'm not mistaken, it could be under the chancel of the abbey church.)
In the monk's cell the two electricians are installing switches and cables for the drill that will be used to make ducts for the cables and install the lighting fixtures. A worker opens the padlock on the chain securing the board that has kept the passage closed off, and that is then removed.
The two workers enter the corridor with lit torches, then Don Carmelo offers me his hand to accompany me, and we proceed behind Gennaro down the stairs to a level which would be about two metres below that of the cell floor. Gennaro takes measurements with a laser rangefinder, and a photo.
Two tunnels, to the right and left, each continue in a straight line up to where I can see walls. The passageway on the right goes straight for about ten metres, then it bends to turn right, where it would be alongside the exterior of the church.
Next we are behind the sacristy, then the chapter-house. On both right and left of this passage every two metres there are niches opening up into the convent, with sloping floors.
Next we find ourselves at the level of the impost of the vault, about three metres from the floors of the sacristy and refectory.
Now we go along the tunnel to the right, around about half the perimeter of the apse to where the passage is blocked. I immediately recognise that this wall is not of the same date as the building, as I see that the bricks are just set in a straight joint, not bonded into the apse wall, and the mortar is rougher, as if it was made in a rushed job to hide a passage that could lead behind the cells of the nuns, where someone would have been able to spy.
I need to figure out who and why!
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Devil in the Convent 11
11
Luna- 'Don Carmelo , I'm thinking it might be useful to install the air-conditioning ducts down here for the museum rooms on the ground floor, and other technical services too - power supply, alarms, the digital network. It’ll save a lot of money and time, it won’t do anything that endangers the stability of the building, that’ll retain almost intact. It’s a nice stroke of luck, if the passage continues beyond this wall we’ll have gained a year's time on the work, and you’ll have earned a nice nest-egg! But now we’ll go out and let the workers remove the rubble from the floor and the electricians install the lighting.’
Gennaro precedes us on the way back with the torch .
Luna- 'Then , as we’ve done all we can here for now, Gennaro can begin setting up his drawing-boards, and if you’ve got time, Don Carmelo, we could go to my house to see what’s to be done there, with a couple of workers - there’s rubble to be removed, broken glass and stuff, and the windows need taking out to fit new panes.'
Gennaro is turning green with envy, Don Carmelo is already savouring the saving of time and money, I’ll get my work done without spending a single euro!
I get in the car with Don Carmelo, still wearing my builder’s overalls, though I leave the helmet in the office. The van with the workers follows us. We enter my devastated apartment, the material contained in the little chest, and the chest itself, I’d already put away in the store-room before I starting locking up.
Carmelo- 'Dr. Lucy, I already imagined how good your property was, but I didn’t imagine it this splendid, with the most beautiful view of Naples! But what a mess the storm’s made! Besides repairing the windows and the patio doors, we’ll need to re-laminate the wooden floor, the smashed glass has damaged it. But in three days we’ll get everything back in order. '
He looks at the workmen:
Carmelo- 'Hurry up you two, you're not here on a trip just to look at the view! First the windows and curtains, then the pots on the terrace, put all the ornaments in a safe place, and then pull the rug out from under the legs of the bed! '
Luna- 'I didn’t even have time to shut the windows when the wind came, before they were all over the floor, a complete wreck! Anyway let's have some coffee now.'
I phone the Jew’s store, the one who sells antique Persian rugs, ask him to send his two boys to restore the carpet .
Carmelo- 'But Dr. Lucia, tonight you’ll have to sleep in a hotel, without doors and windows here ... '
Luna- 'I've already phoned a girlfriend, she’ll be my hostess during these days.'
Sitting on the terrace overlooking the most beautiful panorama of Naples we sip our coffee.
Don Carmelo calls his equipment supplier, who immediately sends two workers to take the windows.
They’ll be ready tomorrow night, even though they’ll have to make bespoke glazing. Don Carmelo is a true godfather! But the profit he’s going to make from my idea of using the secret passage for the plant has ensured that I 'm the boss now!
The workers have collected all the rubble and hauled it down to the van, they’ve cleaned up the shards of glass from the terrace and from the soil in the pots of flowers, they’ve washed the floors inside and out, and now they’ve gone to fetch the sander.
The Don Carmelo's phone rings.
Carmelo- 'There are gardeners here who’ve come to deliver new pots of flowers. '
There are containers with four wonderful pink and purple bougainvilleas, four pots of bamboo, young plants of climbing roses, peonies, tulips and I don’t know what else, I've never had so many plants on the terrace!
Luna- 'Don Carmelo , I'm amazed ... '
Carmelo- 'I am indebted to you, Doctor, with your idea I've gained almost a year of work, you don’t have to thank me, I have to thank you. I felt it this morning when you arrived, if a good day starts with a good morning, today’s going to be the happiest of the year – and, and so it is! '
(Two cats in the bag! It must be because of my talisman?)
Don Carmelo returns to the yard, fetches the two workmen with the sander and paint for the floor.
Come seven o’clock in the evening and the floor is already painted. Now it must be left until tomorrow evening when windows and doors will arrive.
After a shower I pack my bag with clothes and necessaries for two days and nights. I dress myself simply.
Eulalia’s chauffeur arrives, I lock up my house, and I’m on my way!
Eulalia’s house is a late sixteenth century villa in a neoclassical style like that of Pompeii, with a colonnade at the entrance adorned with beautiful friezes carved in white marble.
It nestles in a beautiful park on the coast below the hill that rises to St. Elmo, the most delightful spot in Naples. The view from the terraces is among the most beautiful and extensive that can be enjoyed from this hillside dominating the Gulf of Naples.
Outside, there’s a large bath-house surrounded by marble column, with a tepidarium (warm room). There are heated greenhouses and flower boxes, steps are carved into the tufa caves, and wide avenues that allow you to stroll through the different terraces of this villa which has perhaps no equal among all those around Naples.
A swim in the balnea (warm pool) stimulates our appetite, we take a light vegetarian dinner, and then play our games until late into the night, in a cloud of gossamer silk.
11
Luna- 'Don Carmelo , I'm thinking it might be useful to install the air-conditioning ducts down here for the museum rooms on the ground floor, and other technical services too - power supply, alarms, the digital network. It’ll save a lot of money and time, it won’t do anything that endangers the stability of the building, that’ll retain almost intact. It’s a nice stroke of luck, if the passage continues beyond this wall we’ll have gained a year's time on the work, and you’ll have earned a nice nest-egg! But now we’ll go out and let the workers remove the rubble from the floor and the electricians install the lighting.’
Gennaro precedes us on the way back with the torch .
Luna- 'Then , as we’ve done all we can here for now, Gennaro can begin setting up his drawing-boards, and if you’ve got time, Don Carmelo, we could go to my house to see what’s to be done there, with a couple of workers - there’s rubble to be removed, broken glass and stuff, and the windows need taking out to fit new panes.'
Gennaro is turning green with envy, Don Carmelo is already savouring the saving of time and money, I’ll get my work done without spending a single euro!
I get in the car with Don Carmelo, still wearing my builder’s overalls, though I leave the helmet in the office. The van with the workers follows us. We enter my devastated apartment, the material contained in the little chest, and the chest itself, I’d already put away in the store-room before I starting locking up.
Carmelo- 'Dr. Lucy, I already imagined how good your property was, but I didn’t imagine it this splendid, with the most beautiful view of Naples! But what a mess the storm’s made! Besides repairing the windows and the patio doors, we’ll need to re-laminate the wooden floor, the smashed glass has damaged it. But in three days we’ll get everything back in order. '
He looks at the workmen:
Carmelo- 'Hurry up you two, you're not here on a trip just to look at the view! First the windows and curtains, then the pots on the terrace, put all the ornaments in a safe place, and then pull the rug out from under the legs of the bed! '
Luna- 'I didn’t even have time to shut the windows when the wind came, before they were all over the floor, a complete wreck! Anyway let's have some coffee now.'
I phone the Jew’s store, the one who sells antique Persian rugs, ask him to send his two boys to restore the carpet .
Carmelo- 'But Dr. Lucia, tonight you’ll have to sleep in a hotel, without doors and windows here ... '
Luna- 'I've already phoned a girlfriend, she’ll be my hostess during these days.'
Sitting on the terrace overlooking the most beautiful panorama of Naples we sip our coffee.
Don Carmelo calls his equipment supplier, who immediately sends two workers to take the windows.
They’ll be ready tomorrow night, even though they’ll have to make bespoke glazing. Don Carmelo is a true godfather! But the profit he’s going to make from my idea of using the secret passage for the plant has ensured that I 'm the boss now!
The workers have collected all the rubble and hauled it down to the van, they’ve cleaned up the shards of glass from the terrace and from the soil in the pots of flowers, they’ve washed the floors inside and out, and now they’ve gone to fetch the sander.
The Don Carmelo's phone rings.
Carmelo- 'There are gardeners here who’ve come to deliver new pots of flowers. '
There are containers with four wonderful pink and purple bougainvilleas, four pots of bamboo, young plants of climbing roses, peonies, tulips and I don’t know what else, I've never had so many plants on the terrace!
Luna- 'Don Carmelo , I'm amazed ... '
Carmelo- 'I am indebted to you, Doctor, with your idea I've gained almost a year of work, you don’t have to thank me, I have to thank you. I felt it this morning when you arrived, if a good day starts with a good morning, today’s going to be the happiest of the year – and, and so it is! '
(Two cats in the bag! It must be because of my talisman?)
Don Carmelo returns to the yard, fetches the two workmen with the sander and paint for the floor.
Come seven o’clock in the evening and the floor is already painted. Now it must be left until tomorrow evening when windows and doors will arrive.
After a shower I pack my bag with clothes and necessaries for two days and nights. I dress myself simply.
Eulalia’s chauffeur arrives, I lock up my house, and I’m on my way!
Eulalia’s house is a late sixteenth century villa in a neoclassical style like that of Pompeii, with a colonnade at the entrance adorned with beautiful friezes carved in white marble.
It nestles in a beautiful park on the coast below the hill that rises to St. Elmo, the most delightful spot in Naples. The view from the terraces is among the most beautiful and extensive that can be enjoyed from this hillside dominating the Gulf of Naples.
A swim in the balnea (warm pool) stimulates our appetite, we take a light vegetarian dinner, and then play our games until late into the night, in a cloud of gossamer silk.
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Devil in the Convent 12
12
Gennaro greets me with a smile as I get out of the car, opening the door for me. I go up to my office.
On the desk are completed plans of the surveys carried out yesterday.
It’s clear now that the space between the House of Theatines and the Convent of Sant 'Arcangelo is large enough to accommodate a system of secret passages which could have allowed communication between the two buildings.
The lighting system is already fully installed, the debris along the passageway has been removed, now we can continue our inspection.
Don Carmelo arrives smiling and tells me that in the late afternoon we’ll go to my house to complete the work there.
As I enter the tunnel my heart is beating with excitement, but it is my heart or Cynthia’s?
The workman demolishes the wall that blocks the passage behind the apse of the church with his bare hands, the lime mortar is so poor there’s no need for a pickaxe. Now we proceed further with the flashlights.
Gennaro take precise measurements and photographs every detail.
The passage turns right round 150 degrees after the curve of the apse, and then left.
I'm surprised at this, I was expecting it to finish at the end of this part of the building, but instead it turns left again. The next stretch is very long.
Suddenly we stop in surprised silence - shrill voices of children playing, the sounds of music on a house’s radio! We’ve ended up under the wing of the building that once housed the cells of the nuns and is now occupied by the house that stands to the left of the entrance to the Convent church.
You can still see it in the little Sant’Arcangelo square . So nothing has been demolished, things have just been modified by dividing up the accommodation in the old building.
Luna- 'Let's get back to the office immediately.'
From the memory of the laser-measure, we unload the data on the CAD system. This confirms that we proceeded all the way to the wall that overlooks the Sant'Arcangelo street, between the building of the old convent and one that was put up on what was formerly, presumably, the garden outside it.
I hadn’t expected such a complicated system of secret tunnels. An inquisitive eye wouldn’t have missed anything that was going on within those walls, supposed to conceal the sacred space of this place of prayer from the world.
The private communications of the nuns would have been investigated, their every word overheard.
Gennaro revises and completes the drawing he’d prepared yesterday, and superimposes it on the floor-plan for the renovation.
It’s clear that the tunnel will be just what we require to install the technical services for the new museum, but we’ll have to close off the stretch that runs through the western space between the buildings, as it’s not under the property of the former House of the Theatine Fathers.
But first I’m going to discover its hidden secrets!
Towards evening the tradesmen arrive at my house to install doors and windows.
The work is straightforward, in less than two hours it’s finished, but I can’t sleep at home tonight, as I have to let the fumes from the solvents in the paint and floor-polish disperse completely, so I return to Eulalia.
Eulalia- 'What discoveries have you made today ? '
Luna- 'I’m more and more amazed with every step I take! Those tunnels were made for wandering secretly around the convent - who knows who moved in them, or what sick-mindedness motivated them to spy on the nuns? I'm going to have to explore the rest of the maze - I get the shivers just thinking about it !'
12
Gennaro greets me with a smile as I get out of the car, opening the door for me. I go up to my office.
On the desk are completed plans of the surveys carried out yesterday.
It’s clear now that the space between the House of Theatines and the Convent of Sant 'Arcangelo is large enough to accommodate a system of secret passages which could have allowed communication between the two buildings.
The lighting system is already fully installed, the debris along the passageway has been removed, now we can continue our inspection.
Don Carmelo arrives smiling and tells me that in the late afternoon we’ll go to my house to complete the work there.
As I enter the tunnel my heart is beating with excitement, but it is my heart or Cynthia’s?
The workman demolishes the wall that blocks the passage behind the apse of the church with his bare hands, the lime mortar is so poor there’s no need for a pickaxe. Now we proceed further with the flashlights.
Gennaro take precise measurements and photographs every detail.
The passage turns right round 150 degrees after the curve of the apse, and then left.
I'm surprised at this, I was expecting it to finish at the end of this part of the building, but instead it turns left again. The next stretch is very long.
Suddenly we stop in surprised silence - shrill voices of children playing, the sounds of music on a house’s radio! We’ve ended up under the wing of the building that once housed the cells of the nuns and is now occupied by the house that stands to the left of the entrance to the Convent church.
You can still see it in the little Sant’Arcangelo square . So nothing has been demolished, things have just been modified by dividing up the accommodation in the old building.
Luna- 'Let's get back to the office immediately.'
From the memory of the laser-measure, we unload the data on the CAD system. This confirms that we proceeded all the way to the wall that overlooks the Sant'Arcangelo street, between the building of the old convent and one that was put up on what was formerly, presumably, the garden outside it.
I hadn’t expected such a complicated system of secret tunnels. An inquisitive eye wouldn’t have missed anything that was going on within those walls, supposed to conceal the sacred space of this place of prayer from the world.
The private communications of the nuns would have been investigated, their every word overheard.
Gennaro revises and completes the drawing he’d prepared yesterday, and superimposes it on the floor-plan for the renovation.
It’s clear that the tunnel will be just what we require to install the technical services for the new museum, but we’ll have to close off the stretch that runs through the western space between the buildings, as it’s not under the property of the former House of the Theatine Fathers.
But first I’m going to discover its hidden secrets!
Towards evening the tradesmen arrive at my house to install doors and windows.
The work is straightforward, in less than two hours it’s finished, but I can’t sleep at home tonight, as I have to let the fumes from the solvents in the paint and floor-polish disperse completely, so I return to Eulalia.
Eulalia- 'What discoveries have you made today ? '
Luna- 'I’m more and more amazed with every step I take! Those tunnels were made for wandering secretly around the convent - who knows who moved in them, or what sick-mindedness motivated them to spy on the nuns? I'm going to have to explore the rest of the maze - I get the shivers just thinking about it !'
Velut Luna
Sibilla Cumana
Devil in the Convent 13
13
It’s a beautiful May evening. We are sitting on the terrace admiring the view of the brightly-lit city, sharing our girly secrets, laughter, gossip, little tricks, digs at this or that, our strokes of luck, our emotional tangles, 'ò scuorno' (our sniggers) at someone we dislike. Here in Naples we seems to live in a village of a hundred souls, not in a city of a million .
Caresses in the shower, kissing and games in the cloud of silk of your bed.
Carmelo- 'Dr. Lucy, Dr. Lucy !' .
Luna- 'Don Carmelo!’
Carmelo- 'Is everything finished at your place? '
Luna- 'Yes, it’s all complete.'
Luna- ' Thanks Don Carmelo, without you it would have taken a fortnight!
Carmelo- ' Dr. Lucy, from now and all next week I'll be in Palermo, there 'll only be Gennaro here. You can decide what you want done about carrying out the works, I’ve got to manage a major commitment and I mustn’t be late. See you in twelve days' time.'
Luna- 'Have a good trip Don Carmelo.'
Luna- 'If you need anything, phone me.'
So now I'm in the claws of 'ò sarracino'!
A thought haunts me: the tunnel could be used not just for spying, maybe it was to give access to somewhere within the convent, some secret place of special importance - and not just to peek at the nuns in their cells, to spy on them in order to blackmail them for their sins, or to subjugate them during confession. This monster had to have open access - he must have seemed to be a trusted father, who was a wolf in sheep's clothing that attacked and killed all the flock, a butcher dressed as a shepherd who sacrificed his flock to the god of hell, a sexually impotent, misogynist pervert, a fanatical persecutor, a sadistic torturer, a demon murderer, the Executioner of the Inquisition! This evening I will have to start looking at the papers found in the box .
We return to the excavation, just Gennaro and I. I want to inspect every inch of those walls, those floors, those stones that seem to be dumb but reveal to those who know more than they could read in any book I can name. But Gennaro wants to inspect much more than cold, wet stones! It’s hot throbbing flesh he wants, I can see it in gleaming in his eyes, his leer.
When we’ve got to the bottom of the trench he turns to face me, opens the zipper of my orange bodysuit down to the groin, kneels in front of me kissing my belly, grabbing my breasts, pushing me against the wall. The suit slides from my shoulders down to the elbows, so my arms are restrained just as if I were tied up.
He pulls the suit down at the sides, then with his mouth he’s on my sex, biting my lips, my clitoris. His tongue creeps between the petals of my rose, his hand slips down the groove of my buttocks, sticking two fingers into my anus, forcing me to lean forward so that I’m offering him my flower that is opening with the thrill of desire.
A prolonged oral intercourse arouses my every sense, then he locks his arms behind my thighs and lifts me up, penetrating me with his dagger. I moan and gasp as I’m possessed by the ardour of the warrior, while he kisses me on my mouth making me taste my own juices which are still wet on his lips, while his fiery seed invades my precious shell, then and gives a final blow to the kidneys pushing me hard against the wall.
I feel the wall giving way behind me, let out a muffled cry.
Luna- 'Stop! Something happening!'
Gennaro's realised that I'm almost sinking into the wall, he shows me a slight depression has formed where I rested my buttocks and back, the old lime mortar and poor-quality bricks had moved – there’s a void behind, another secret passage to explore!
We return to the monk's cell, now I can call it the entrance-lobby of a devil saw who certainly lived.
- perhaps Ciccio really had seen ' ù rriavule '! -
I go back to my office and in my private toilet I wash and brush myself up, dishevelled in my intimacy. I fit a towel, put on, the thong I’d left in the desk drawer, slip back into my suit, and look in the mirror to see reflected my expression of enjoyment of my recent pleasure.
13
It’s a beautiful May evening. We are sitting on the terrace admiring the view of the brightly-lit city, sharing our girly secrets, laughter, gossip, little tricks, digs at this or that, our strokes of luck, our emotional tangles, 'ò scuorno' (our sniggers) at someone we dislike. Here in Naples we seems to live in a village of a hundred souls, not in a city of a million .
Caresses in the shower, kissing and games in the cloud of silk of your bed.
Carmelo- 'Dr. Lucy, Dr. Lucy !' .
Luna- 'Don Carmelo!’
Carmelo- 'Is everything finished at your place? '
Luna- 'Yes, it’s all complete.'
Luna- ' Thanks Don Carmelo, without you it would have taken a fortnight!
Carmelo- ' Dr. Lucy, from now and all next week I'll be in Palermo, there 'll only be Gennaro here. You can decide what you want done about carrying out the works, I’ve got to manage a major commitment and I mustn’t be late. See you in twelve days' time.'
Luna- 'Have a good trip Don Carmelo.'
Luna- 'If you need anything, phone me.'
So now I'm in the claws of 'ò sarracino'!
A thought haunts me: the tunnel could be used not just for spying, maybe it was to give access to somewhere within the convent, some secret place of special importance - and not just to peek at the nuns in their cells, to spy on them in order to blackmail them for their sins, or to subjugate them during confession. This monster had to have open access - he must have seemed to be a trusted father, who was a wolf in sheep's clothing that attacked and killed all the flock, a butcher dressed as a shepherd who sacrificed his flock to the god of hell, a sexually impotent, misogynist pervert, a fanatical persecutor, a sadistic torturer, a demon murderer, the Executioner of the Inquisition! This evening I will have to start looking at the papers found in the box .
We return to the excavation, just Gennaro and I. I want to inspect every inch of those walls, those floors, those stones that seem to be dumb but reveal to those who know more than they could read in any book I can name. But Gennaro wants to inspect much more than cold, wet stones! It’s hot throbbing flesh he wants, I can see it in gleaming in his eyes, his leer.
When we’ve got to the bottom of the trench he turns to face me, opens the zipper of my orange bodysuit down to the groin, kneels in front of me kissing my belly, grabbing my breasts, pushing me against the wall. The suit slides from my shoulders down to the elbows, so my arms are restrained just as if I were tied up.
He pulls the suit down at the sides, then with his mouth he’s on my sex, biting my lips, my clitoris. His tongue creeps between the petals of my rose, his hand slips down the groove of my buttocks, sticking two fingers into my anus, forcing me to lean forward so that I’m offering him my flower that is opening with the thrill of desire.
A prolonged oral intercourse arouses my every sense, then he locks his arms behind my thighs and lifts me up, penetrating me with his dagger. I moan and gasp as I’m possessed by the ardour of the warrior, while he kisses me on my mouth making me taste my own juices which are still wet on his lips, while his fiery seed invades my precious shell, then and gives a final blow to the kidneys pushing me hard against the wall.
I feel the wall giving way behind me, let out a muffled cry.
Luna- 'Stop! Something happening!'
Gennaro's realised that I'm almost sinking into the wall, he shows me a slight depression has formed where I rested my buttocks and back, the old lime mortar and poor-quality bricks had moved – there’s a void behind, another secret passage to explore!
We return to the monk's cell, now I can call it the entrance-lobby of a devil saw who certainly lived.
- perhaps Ciccio really had seen ' ù rriavule '! -
I go back to my office and in my private toilet I wash and brush myself up, dishevelled in my intimacy. I fit a towel, put on, the thong I’d left in the desk drawer, slip back into my suit, and look in the mirror to see reflected my expression of enjoyment of my recent pleasure.