By Dino Lavadini

Translated from the Italian by Terry Furlong

Part 1.

No one knows how it came to be called Villa Lavagna. Even as a boy I only had to mention it and the women would cross themselves and bawl me out and ask where I learned those words. The men would laugh and say I'd better not go around mouthing words I didn't know the meaning of and if I ended up there I would never be seen or heard from again. Then they would wink at each other and whisper amongst themselves. All I could make out of what they were saying was that the ladies there had exceptionally large asses that "needed pumping" and that there were similarly endowed nurses who once a man found himself in their "hospital" he would never want to leave.

All of this made no sense to me until I was about eighteen. After that, I found myself laying awake in bed at night wondering just what went on there. Judging from the raucous laughter of the men in the town square whenever a girl or woman with an especially voluptuous rear end walked by and they all chimed in "Lavagna!" under their breath with their hands in front of their mouths, it was something less than respectable and it got to be very confusing to me because by then I had nighttime images of all sorts of big beautiful female buttocks filling my dreams and I wondered what all the secrecy was about. I decided to find out.

I learned from Oscar, the old hermit who lived on the outskirts of town that the only person he had ever heard of going there was one Count Ugo who used to put him to work on his gardens and sent him money from time to time. The Count was said to have had many mistresses all of whom were exceptionally well endowed in those parts they sat down on and his current passion was a beautiful and magnificently buxom woman in her thirties from Milano. This woman's obsession was to be bedded in an immense heavily draped room among a dozen or so young men and old lechers who would line up and service her in a unique and bizarre manner. They would by turns caress and kiss her naughty arrogant ass and administer hot enemas of warm spring water laced with oil of wintergreen while she laid face downward on the Count who would be engaged in giving her what women love best either of his own natural possession or one of several dildoes especially selected for the purpose. So that of the several practitioners of "double penetration" each performed his special role to the moaning lady's most extravagant satisfaction.

Chief among la Signora Carla's fetishes was that she collected panties, bloomers and petticoats scores of which were lavished upon her by the Count. These were almost always pink with white lace trimming and of the finest silks, satin's and brocades. The privileged swain at the head of the line of studs who serviced her with the enema syringe thus had to expend both time and energy divesting her of layers of these which she insisted be very leisurely raised or lowered one by one much like skinning an onion though once he at long last hauled down the bottom most of her panties he exposed underneath two immense alabaster white ivory smooth deep cleft rotund apples of an ass which turned gradually to a faint blush of rose when he kissed it, pinched the plump cheeks softly and slapped them smartly with his horny palm.

Count Ugo, an inveterate lecher who had the reputation of spending a dozen or more times a day, the older he grew the more he withdrew to the background and once spent delighted in shrill whistles and raucous urgings of encouragement. Staring till his eyes all but popped from his head and grinning lasciviously and drooling with excitement until such time as his vigor was quite restored he threw off all comers and picked up the steaming syringe himself and set to pump fucking the moaning Carla's upthrust ass, nicely propped and arched on plump white linen cushions.

I began following the Count's jet black limousine with my motorcycle and became such a nuisance peering into the back seat where he was ardently kissing Carla's arrogant bare ass that he stopped telling his chauffeur to speed up and ditch me and pretended to ignore my existence. By the time I had followed them up a gradual rise of some ten or twelve kilometers to the to the crossroads I would be turned back by a gate. This went on for several weeks until on a spectacularly clear cool day in May I felt I could ride forever and was determined to find out where they were going, imagining that they were headed for the infamous Villa Lavagna. About a mile onto the right fork of the crossroads the car stopped abruptly. Aldo, the chauffeur, got out and shaking his fist at me, shouted, "Hey, arsehole! Get lost! Give it up! Go home!" I just stood there with one foot on the ground and glowered at him. Then he turned to answer the Count who had called to him and looking into the back of the car through the driver side window they talked for a while. Finally he threw up his arms and said, "Park your bike and get in" I parked the bike and locked it and got into the front seat next to him. We drove on.

The Count never missed a beat in caressing and kissing Carla's majestic backside but turned to the front from time to time and pointing to her arched and wiggling fanny grinned from ear to ear and stuttered, "L-L-Look at it, boy! L-L-Look at it! It's the b-best g-goddam arse in Italy!" Carla just moaned lasciviously and winked at me and said, "You probably never saw a woman's buttocks before, did you Sonny?" I blushed crimson. "Get it out, Aldo. Show it to him. Show him what you do with it," she said. Aldo reached over and clicked the glove compartment open. Inside was an old fashioned red rubber bulb type enema syringe with a shiny black hard rubber nozzle laying on its side next to a large greasy jar of Vaseline. He pulled out the syringe and reaching back handed it to the Count, then opened the jar and handed it over. He slowed down as Ugo told me to hold Carla's ankles. She squealed with delight as she arched and slowly undulated her huge firm round buttocks and he slowly greased the nozzle of the syringe and parting her ass cheeks at their chubbiest part just outside the pink immaculate anus slowly inserted the nozzle.

The road climbed ever higher to the northeast. Finally we reached the top. Like I said before, far from being a villa, the last turn in the winding road up the steep precipice of barren and pitted yellow marble revealed an immense four story Victorian gingerbread style house with a square turreted tower and at least six weirdly shaped tower like gables in the front and three smaller ones visible on the southwest side. It was like visiting a strange planet. The house was a chipped and blotched fading pink with green trimming and covered here and there with climbing ivy. Carved into the blackened stone archway over the ornate iron gated entrance was the word LAVAGNA.

The chauffeur stopped the car and turned to the back seat, staring and grinning lecherously. He took the syringe which the Count held out to him and started doing more of what Ugo had begun. Carla moaned, "Ooohh, Aldo! Ooohh, ooohh, Aldo!" Finally he was handed the Count's ebony and gold stick. He extended it out the window and struck a tarnished brass bell three times. Dropping the stick he switched the syringe back into his right hand and went immediately back to Carla's buttocks. We waited what seemed a long time. Finally a stooped old man with an immense key chain emerged from a distant tower and, stuffing his shirt into his pants as he came along, shuffled down to the gate. The Count laughed uproariously and barked, "Come on, Doctor, you old pervert! Hurry it up! You've had enough of staring at women's buttocks all day long! Can't you take a break? Could you please let us have a minute of your time?"

No one to be interrupted in his voyeuristic pleasures, Doctor Bartolo growled back, "It's you, you old arse hound! Don't you ever learn? I told you take a key! Take a key! Who gave you freedom to come around here day and night and lure me away from my lovelies? Who the bloody hell do you think you are?"

They both laughed and continued in this vein, Ugo honking the horn now and slapping his left hand against the outside of the car door, the old Doctor shaking his finger at us and feigning rage. He stopped just inside the gate and putting his hand around his mouth said in a mock whisper, "They brought two new ones from Romania today. They're being examined by Hedwig as we speak. They're superb! Fair skin and hair as black as a crow. They're first rate. The big one is 44' in the arse!"

Part 2.

After the space of some thirty years I remember looking up at the moldering facade of the weirdly lopsided pile as if it was yesterday. I'm blinded as we enter the vast, dimly lit hall. Once my eyesight is restored I notice huge paintings in gilded baroque frames which the Count invites me to examine in detail. It takes a while for me detect a theme. On the left hand side, demarcated by a monumental marble statue of the Callypigian Venus who projects her immense naked buttocks to the visitor, are depicted goddesses and nymphs most of whom are naked from the waist down and present their voluptuous nude asses to a swain or satyr holding a silver clyster to their nicely arched fundaments. On the right hand side the scenes are identical in theme with the sexes reversed. Portly nymphs and shepherdesses, their garments hiked up behind and fixed with long thorns, are studiously occupied with inserting clysters into the backsides of lusty young men and satyrs. The faces of all are in a state of trance or contorted in lascivious grins and expressions of bliss.

Dr. Bartolo jangles his chain impatiently and announces in a loud voice, "I go to inform la Signora Hedwig of your arrival." A string quartet on the balcony overlooking the hall begins playing an exquisite adagio. During a reprise of the same movement a majestic female figure attired in a nurse's immaculate white uniform and cap with a red cross and piping appears from the interior and starts descending the creaky dark oaken staircase on the left. At her side is a handsome young man with a pencil thin mustache and jet black slicked backed hair ending in a pony tail. He is dressed like a doctor with a white linen jacket buttoned down the side and starched collar up to his chin He holds in his left hand a bisque model of a white porcelain tray on which an old fashioned red rubber bulb type enema syringe identical to the one I saw in the glove compartment of the car stands on its smooth disc butt end next to a large jar of Vaseline. His right hand is slipped into the long vertical flap in the seat of Signora Hedwig's uniform and cups her sumptuous left buttock, his long fingers and thumb running delicately up and down the deep cleft between her ass cheeks.

Hedwig's hips undulate gracefully as she descends the staircase. Her uniform is stretched so tight around her huge honeydew melon sized breasts and her hips below that it looks like it's about to burst apart at the seams. Arrived at the bottom of the stairs she receives Carla in outstretched arms and the two exchange a passionate kiss on the lips. She strides majestically to a point in front of the statue and without acknowledging my presence extends her arm palm up and leads the way to the apartments under the staircase to the left.

The first chamber is in semi darkness. The sound of grunts and moaning mingles with the aroma of fresh spunk and Vaseline and strong soap. A bell chimes and a servant throws open the heavy crimson and gold curtains and opens the shutters to the fresh morning breeze. My eyes blink with the shock of sudden brightness and opening them wide I survey the scene before me.

Three beautiful floozies are laying on cushions on an immense oval bed, their skirts hiked up behind and pinned out of the way of their huge softly wiggling naked buttocks with bright silver safety pins. One girl's bloomers are open at the seat and her superb alabaster smooth ivory white ass protrudes arrogantly from the split. The other girls' pink panties with white lace trimming are hauled down to half mast beneath two pairs of equally chubby and impudent naked rump cheeks. A line of grinning young men and old lechers extends behind each one. The one in front of the first girl, Sally, is delicately inserting a thermometer into her anus behind a gob of Vaseline from a large jar held by the one behind him. She slowly undulates her naked buttocks and looks behind her from one to the next of the men and moans with bliss. Susan, the girl in the middle is being finger fucked in the ass by an old man preparatory to the introduction of an 8-ounce red rubber bulb syringe held by the young man dressed in a doctor's uniform behind him. Gobbets of a hot yellow sulfurous smelling liquid drip from the shiny black nozzle of the overfilled syringe.

Peggy, the girl on the right is being spanked on one big plump buttock with a thick oval paddle by an old fishwife while a handsome young man ardently caresses and kisses the other one. Then the kisser and spanker switch cheeks.

We watch in rapt silence for some time. Then the Count, Carla, the young doctor Enzo, the old Doctor Bartolo and Hedwig take their usual places The Count takes over from the young man attending Sally, Aldo from the one on Susan, and myself behind Peggy. Finally I upend Carla on a cushion and spend in a matter of minutes and am hooted off the scene. I throw myself down on a sofa and rest before returning to the din of the writhing, raucous ass orgy.

Part 3.

Our accommodations are in a distant tower in the northwest wing reached by a rickety cage like elevator. All my companions are exhausted and after a simple meal of roasted capon, polenta and cold Riesling retire to their own cabinets. The only sound disrupting the deathlike silence is the eerie hooting of an owl or the tolling of a bell from a tower of the monastery beyond the far mountain. The rising moon is a fragile silver crescent in a lapis sky. I am sleepless and once again enflamed with bawdy imaginings of the three girls. I grope for the railroad lantern on my bedside table and switch it on. I rise from my bed and walk gingerly out the door and along the hall to the elevator. I descend to the ground floor and make my way down interminable maze like passageways to the central staircase. Gradually sounds of glee and lechery reach my ears. I bypass the first apartment and stop in front of the next one. I stand there in the dark, my lantern sending a concentrated beam of yellow light down along the wall to the left in which appear the dark rectangles of five other apartments. The draught from some distant open casement sends the sweet greasy scent of Vaseline wafting on every breeze down the long straight hallway. I put my ear to the door and can barely make out the muffled sounds coming from beyond the massive oak portal. By turns blissful and angry, amorous and cursing, they issue from the narrow crack above the threshold: "Ohhhhhh, p-p-put your g-goddam f-f-finger in! ... Ohhhhhh, g-g-give h-him the t-t-thermometer! ... Arggggggh! ... Arch h-her b-big b-bare arse up h-higher! ... Ohhhhhh! ... P-P-Pump m-m-my ass, you f-f-fuckin' whore! ... Arggggggh! ... S-S-Squirt it once m-m-more! ... Ohhhhhh, s-s-sweet Jesus! ... I-I-I'm c-c-c-c-coming! ... Arggggggh! Arggggggh! Arggggggh!" Quite by accident as I grope with the palm of my left hand along the wall I come upon a shallower depression. Upon examination it shows a much narrower and lower sliding door into an area like a cloak room. I squeeze in sideways and slide the panel shut behind me and find myself in an enclosure barely three feet wide that seems to have no end, circling the apartment as it were. Wondering what kind of place this could be, I instinctively feel the wall about eye level to the left and right. At intervals of about ten feet are tiny sliding doors which my lantern reveals are in reality the sides of cigar boxes placed very ingeniously into the wall. Barely an inch and a half deep, they hold at the front a two-way mirror covered with what seems to be the gauzelike draperies adorning the interior walls. Once focussed, my eyes feel like they are about to pop out of my head. I grope desperately for the switch on the lantern. It drops with a thud to the floor. I stand there in terror. A dead silence reigns for seconds. Suddenly raucous laughter explodes from the chamber: "Ooooooooohhhhhhhh! ... Oooowwwweeee! ... H-hhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa! ... H-hhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa! ... H-hhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa! ... H-hhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa! ... Ooooooooohhhhhhhh! ... Oooowwwweeee! ... H-hhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa! ... H-hhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa! ... H-hhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa! "It's the f-fuckin' f-fuckface y-young f-fucker who c-came today! H-H-He's a f-f-fuckin'' f-f-fuckface y-y-young v-v-v-v-voyeur! ... H-H-He's a f-f-fuckin'' f-f-fuckface y-y-young v-v-v-v-voyeur! ... Ooooowwwweeee! ... H-hhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa! ...Ooooowwwweeee! ... H-hhhhhhhhaaaaaaaa! ... Ooooowwwweeee! ... Ooooowwwweeee!"

Part 4.

The merriment subsides as suddenly as it started. I reach down and switch off the lantern. My squinting eyes survey the chamber. Two immense crimson and gold rococo beds stand separated by some yards in alcoves at one end of the oval room. On the lefthand one propped up on cushions are the lovely streetwalkers of the afternoon. A soldier holds a greasy thermometer to the immaculate tight squeezed pink ass hole of Sally. She squirms with delight as he scoops up a gob of Vaseline from the jar extended by his soldier buddy behind him and slowly inserts his middle finger into her anus. Behind the second soldier is a third holding the spluttering overfilled enema syringe. Ranged on hooks along one wall are some half dozen red rubber fountain enemas with long red hoses and shiny black hard rubber nozzles. Next to Sally on the bed is Susan. She moans with ecstasy: "Uuuuuuuuummmmmmmmhhhhhhhh! ... Ooooooooohhhhhhhh! ... Uuuuuuuuummmmmmmmhhhhhhhh! ... Ooooooooohhhhhhhh!" Close in together behind her are three sailors. The foremost is inserting the nozzle of a fountain syringe up her rectum. The middle most is holding the bag high and the last is holding a towel wrapped around a quart size glass chemist's flask filled with a steaming yellowish fluid that smells of sulfur. Susan is shrieking now: "Eeeeeeeeeeeee! ... Eeeeeeeeeeeee! ... Eeeeeeeeeeeee! ... T-T-Trip the s-s-s-s-spring! ... T-T-Trip the s-s-s-s-spring! ... T-T-Trip the s-s-s-s-spring! ... Eeeeeeeeeeeee! ... Eeeeeeeeeeeee! ... T-T-Trip the s-s-s-s-spring!" Peggy is likewise surrounded by three grinning and whistling sailors. The one directly behind her has just shoved a bulb syringe slowly up her ass with his right cheek pressed to her left buttock, staring at the slowly twisting nozzle. She too is moaning first and then shrieking: "Uuuuuuuuummmmmmmmhhhhhhhh! ... Ooooooooohhhhhhhh! ... Uuuuuuuuummmmmmmmhhhhhhhh! ... Ooooooooohhhhhhhh! ... "Eeeeeeeeeeeee! ... Eeeeeeeeeeeee! ... Eeeeeeeeeeeee!" The two behind are grinning from ear to ear and whistling and applauding, "Arrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhh! ... P-P-P-Pump it! ... P-P-P-P-P-Pump that a-a-a-arse! ... P-P-P-P-P-Pump her b-b-b-big b-b-b-beautiful arse!" The bed in the next alcove reveals the exact opposite of this scenario. Three sailors are laying side by side ass upwards as nine beautiful statuesque nurses in uniforms with unbuttoned flap drop seats exposing nine divinely plump bare asses of various shades from Nubian to Scandinavian are ranged behind them three to each. The first set are taking a reading fore and aft with a number of thermometers in alcohol in a blue glass with etched degrees on the side. The second are slowly and expertly inserting the warm bulb syringe into his buddy's ass and the last are extracting the nozzle at the end of the long red hose and allowing the third roaring sailor to spend as he expels the still hot contents into a white enamel bed pan, shouting as he does: Arggggggh! ... H-H-H-Here it c-c-c-c-c-comes! ... Aaaaaaaaawwwwwwww! ... Ohhhhhh, s-s-sweet Jesus! ... I-I-I'm c-c-c-c-coming! ... Arggggggh! ... Arggggggh! ... Aaaaaaaaawwwwwwww! ... Arggggggh!" I slowly reach down for my lantern and noiselessly retiring from the cramped cubby hole move on to the next room.

-End-