Anna struggled under the heavy body of the man in the Arlecchino mask who held one hand over her mouth to muffle her cries as he pierced her maidenhead with his virile member. Try as she might, she could not prevent him from entering her virginal passageway and working his rigid shaft of flesh back and forth within it.

After some time had elapsed, he suddenly shuddered and gasped. Anna knew what this must betoken. He began to grunt and Anna, her cheeks encarnidined by shame, felt his seed flood her fallow womb .

In the throes of his orgasm , her attacker forgot what he was about and took his hand off her mouth. Immediately, Anna screamed "Aiuto ! Stupro !" Her father, the Judge, hearing her cries, rushed to her room sword in hand. Alas, even in his youth,

Alfonso Gualtieri had never been an especially good swordsman and the man he now faced was arguably the best in Italy.

Middle-aged, great of belly, and short of leg (and breath), he was no match for the youthful athletic rapist. The younger man was also no respecter of the niceties of swordsmanship. He did not hesitate to drive the blade of his rapier through the Judge's belly a hand's breadth below his navel, thus dooming the Judge to a slow agonising death from perforated intestines and peritonitis.

As he ran from the scene of his crime, the rapist could hear the Judge cry "Ah, soccorso, son ferito." Smiling, the murderer said to himself "He should have said 'Son morendo' (I'm dying)." He felt no remorse either for raping Anna or for cruelly

slaying the Judge.

Before entering the street, he discarded the Arlecchino mask, uncovering the handsome features of Giovanni da Murano, the bastard of an impecunious nobleman. Silently, he slipped away into the night, unobserved and unidentified.

Later that night, he entered another conquest into his bulging diary.

It required some eight hours of agony, which such a good man did not deserve, for Il Giudice Alfonso Gualtieri to take his departure from this world. Her grief for her dear father temporarily distracted Donna Anna from her own predicament. Not only had she been raped by an unknown assailant, but she might very well have been impregnated by him.

Anna had never seen her attacker's face nor had he spoken one word either to her or to the Judge. There seemed no way to identify him, yet both her rape and her father's murder cried out for vendetta.

By the time her father's funeral arrangements had been made, Anna had missed her menstrual period. The undeserved disgrace of unwed motherhood was to be forced upon her by circumstances for which she was in no way responsible. She burned with an almost masculine lust for revenge ! Yet, how ?

Soothsayers, seers, diviners, and fortune tellers were outlawed and condemned by the Church , yet, if one such might be consulted, perhaps he or she could identify the culprit. Anna remembered that her friend, Elvira, had consulted a seer seeking to locate her errant lover . Her revenge on him is, however, another story.

Anna sought out Elvira and learned the name and the whereabouts of the seer, one Mirdino. Unbeknownst to the ladies, Mirdino was much more than a mere seer. He was a very powerful sorcerer, forced to keep a low profile owing to the hostility of the Church.

Veiled, Anna went unescorted to Mirdino's home to consult him. Mirdino proved to be a white-bearded but stalwart-looking and upright old man with clear and almost luminously blue eyes. Before Anna had had an opportunity to identify herself, Mirdino addressed her by name.

"Signorina Gualtieri, it is indiscrete of you to come here unescorted, veiled though you be. If we sit here in my garden, however, there should be no occasion for gossip."

"How do you know my name, Signor Mirdino ?" inquired Anna.

"I should be but a poor diviner if I did not." replied Mirdino with a smile. "I also

know the reason that you have sought my assistance. You wish to know if I can ascertain the identity of the man who attacked you and slew your father"

"Can you ?" asked Anna eagerly.

"Yes, I can, but I need you to look into my eyes for a moment whilst remembering what you can of his appearence, disguised though he was. I must ask you to raise your veil and hold it up until I tell you that I know what I need to."

Anna could not find it in herself to distrust this strange old man. She raised her veil and Mirdino looked deeply into her eyes. Sooner than she expected, he said

"Very well. I know who your assailant was. His name is Giovanni da Murano. I have seen him before and, in fact, I know his father. Of course, evidence obtained by divination is not acceptable in a court of law."

"But, how did you determine his identity so quickly?" asked Anna.

"I looked into the past. I surmised that he would discard his mask as soon as he entered the street, so I followed him out of your home and viewed him from before when he removed his mask. As his face is already familiar to me, I recognised him immediately."

"Amazing, Signor Mirdino" exclaimed Anna.

"Elementary" replied Mirdino modestly.

"I have taken the liberty, also, of undoing the harm which he had done to you, and which has occasioned you such worry. You will find next month that everything is back to normal."

Anna was glad that she had lowered her veil again as she was blushing a bright scarlet. But, though embarrassed, she was greatly relieved. She managed to stammer

"Thank you, Signore. But, is there no way that we can bring this Giovanni da Murano to justice ?"

"Not under the law" said Mirdino, "but I can make him regret that he had ever been born. He will be tormented by frustration from this day forth. The law has no power to decree such suffering as shall be his henceforth until his dying day."

"You have set my heart at ease, Signor Mirdino. How can I ever thank you ?" asked Anna.

"It is unnecessary. I regret only that I cannot restore your father to you, but that is forbidden to me. Lest you should fear that you have endangered your immortal soul by seeking my aid, let me set your mind at ease about that. I do not traffic in infernal spirits or powers.

I do not invoke Satan or any of his demonic minions. Mostly, the powers I use are my own. If I must call upon other help, I ask it of our Lord and Saviour. When I work spells, I ask the blessing of the Blessed Virgin and the Saints upon them. I am no necromancer nor any raiser of demons. I heal the sick and aid the oppressed but the Church condemns even such good works as I do. In this they err greatly."

After Donna Anna had departed, Mirdino prepared to confront Giovanni da Murano. He would offer the wrongdoer a chance to avoid interminable torment by sincere repentance. The likelihood that he would accept this offer was negligible. If it was rejected, Mirdino would place such spells on Giovanni da Murano as had never afflicted any living man.

Late that night, after an evening of gambling and wenching, Giovanni da Murano returned to his lodging. He had just removed his boots and sat down to rest his feet when he noticed the air a couple of yards before him begin to sparkle.

Suddenly, in that place appeared a tall, dignified, old man whom he had never seen before . He pointed a bony index finger at Giovanni and said, "Giovanni da Murano, you are a ravisher of virgins and a murderer. " Though frightened to the bone, Giovanni managed a flippant reply. "In veritá ?" ["Really ?"]

"Laugh while you may, Giovanni da Murano, you will have no reason to laugh henceforth. In the eleven years since you attained puberty, you have forced twenty-seven virgins to submit to your lust and murdered four men, most recently Donna Anna Gualtieri and her father Il Giudice, Signore Alfonso Gualtieri. You need not waste time or burden my patience with denials."

Ever the man of action, Giovanni leapt to his feet and drew his rapier. His mysterious visitor merely pointed at the blade of the rapier and it wilted as if it had been melted and dropped away from the guard leaving Giovanni holding the useless grip and guard.

"Who are you ?" he shouted.

"Ah, I had forgotten my manners. I am Mirdino, the sorcerer, not, however, at your service. I offer you a choice, that between sincere repentance and a curse. My curses are not mere words. If you agree to sincere repentance and swear never to repeat your transgressions, I shall place a geis upon you to hold you to those promises.

However, if you refuse, I shall curse you to a fate which will make you curse the day you were born [like Job] and long for death which will be denied you. You will burn with intolerable lust every moment of the day, yet, you will be impotent and unable to satisfy your lust. You will be unable to end your suffering by taking your own life nor by gelding yourself for you will be under a geis forbidding this relief to you. Repent ! and forswear rape and murder."

"NO !", shouted Giovanni.

"Repent! Never ravish another virgin or slay another man !"

"NO !"

"Repent! In remorse for your crimes, swear that you will not repeat them as long as you may live."

"NEVER !" bellowed Giovanni. "Begone you fatuous old fool."

"I have offered you three chances to repent and you have refused them thrice. Now, I curse you, first with insatiable lust, second with irremediable total impotency and third with immortality. Only you can break this spell and you will know no peace until you learn how to and do so."

Giovanni laughed heartily. "Well, Mirdino, are you done ? Have you had your say ?"

Mirdino did not reply but merely made a strange gesture from above his head to the floor and vanished. Immediately, Giovanni felt such intense lust as he had never experienced before. It was too late to hope to find a harlot in the street and , anyhow, Giovanni hated to pay for what he was accustomed to taking.

In desperation, he pulled down his tights and took his virile member (which he was surprised not to find erect) in his hand.

Gioivanni gasped in amazement and horror. It was like taking hold of another man's cazzo. His hand could feel his member, but his member could not feel his hand. He squeezed it, pulled it, rubbed it, stroked it, and felt none of what he was doing, nor did his limp flabby cazzo swell or stiffen in the least. Finally, he was forced to take the sorcerer's curse seriously.

Giovanni went to bed hoping that things would be better in the morning, though he had no reason to expect anything of the sort. Certainly, he did not get a sound night's sleep. It was repeatedly interrupted by erotic dreams. However, as soon as he was about to spill his seed, he would awaken frustrated and with aching coglioni.

Eight times this happened. He finally rose in the morning, as tired as he had been when he lay down seeking sleep.

Giovanni had awakened with an erection every morning since he was thirteen, but this morning, his cazzo dangled limp, soft, and visibly shrunken before his aching coglioni. He knew that it was pointless to see a physician; they are not accustomed to treating curses. During the day, Giovanni trembled and panted with lust whenever he saw an attractive woman, but he could get no relief.

And so it continued. The days became weeks, the weeks months, the months years, the years decades, and the decades centuries. Mad with sexual frustration but the picture of perfect health, Giovanni continued to look exactly as he had when he was cursed, still handsome, still apparently 24 years old.

Plagues came and went; pestilence swirled about him but never touched the accursed libertine. He was caught up in wars and bullets flew by him on all sides but never so much as grazed him.

The only thing which changed about him was his name which gradually evolved from Giovanni da Murano to Gianni d'Murano to Gianni Morano and finally in the 21st century to Johnny Morano. 500 years had passed and still he had learned nothing which could enable him to break the spell which tormented him. He had come to hate women but lusted after them no less keenly than he had 500 years before.

His only talent was gambling. He had been an accomplished card sharp in 1503, but this talent had become much less useful to him in an age of widespread casino gambling.

Early in the 21st century, having emigrated to the New World in 1912, he became associated with the Mafia and did various odd jobs for the Morello crime family. One of them was to act as a courier, usually delivering sealed packages about whose contents he was willingly ignorant. He supposed from the size and weight that they probably contained narcotics.

One day, he was detained by the New York police who found that the heavy package which he was carrying contained ten kilograms of crack cocaine. Johnny refused to tell the police where he had got the package or where he was delivering it to. He assumed that his loyalty to the Mafia would be appreciated and that they would arrange for him to get a light sentence, if any, inasmuch as he really did not know the contents of the package and no one could prove otherwise.

The Morello crime family did nothing for him, for he was expendable and [they thought] they could always off him if he was so indiscrete as to tell where he got the package. His refusal to cooperate with the police got him a 5-year sentence for possession of narcotics with intent to sell (which he certainly did NOT intend.) Still, what was five years to an immortal ?

Johnny was confined in a cell with three other prisoners: Tyrone Ntembe, Nyuyen Van Dong, and Jesus Angel Herrera. Tyrone ruled. He was 6' 4", weighed 230 lbs and meaner than Mike Tyson. Nyuyen was a sneaky opportunist, and Jesus was a vicious street fighter. This did not strike Johnny as a safe or healthy environment. He couldn't be killed, but that was cold comfort.

Tyrone wasted no time before convincing Johnny of his supremacy. "Drop yo' coveralls and yo' briefs."

"Fuck you" retorted Johnny. That was NOT the smartest thing he'd ever done. Tyrone belted him across the face with the back of his hand, throwing him across the cell. Groggily, Johnny stood up and silently dropped his coveralls and briefs.

"Bend ovuh." ordered Tyrone. Johnny hesitated and Tyrone grabbed his perpetually aching balls and squeezed. Johnny bent over. In his 524 years of life, Johnny had never been buttfucked. So, it was into a virgin asshole that Tyrone, having dropped his own coveralls, rammed a humongous black whang which wouldn't have looked out of place under a donkey.

Johnny screamed, but the guards habitually made no attempt to interfere in prison rape, and, recognizing that another one was underway, the guard ignored Johnny's screams. Johnny reacted to the defilement with outrage, disgust, shame, and pain. He felt utterly degraded.

Suddenly, Johnny realized that this was how those 27 virgins must have felt whom he had raped 500 years ago. For the first time in his life he felt remorse for what he had done. Suddenly he was deeply ashamed of himself and sorry for those poor girls, even though, of course, they had by now been dead for centuries.

A voice, familiar even after half a millennium, spoke in Johnny's mind. It was the voice of Mirdino saying "The curse is lifted." The former Giovanni da Murano received immediate confirmation that the curse was, indeed, lifted. He popped a boner, the first he had had in 500 years. Johnny was both embarrassed and delighted by it.

Tyrone's dick, pounding on Johnny's prostate gland made him cum, finally releasing the pent-up gism which had made his balls ache for so long. Johnny shot across the cell onto Jesus' coveralls.

"Jou focking maricón !" screamed Jesus who dropped his gism-stained coveralls, strode up to Johnny and thrusted his pinga into Johnny's mouth. "Sock eet, jou fairy." Jesus reached out and grabbed Johnny's balls to ensure his compliance. And, so, Johnny's degradation continued as he unwillingly sucked Jesus' pinga and swallowed his cum.

As soon as Tyrone pulled out, Nyuyen opted for "sloppy seconds" and plugged in after him. Though sick with embarassment and resentment, Johnny accepted his role as ho to his cellmates, convinced in his new repentance, that he deserved it.

Somewhere in New York City, among its millions, there is one 530-year-old man

who has been everywhere, seen everything, and done everything, is bored to distraction, and is sick and tired of life. The curse was lifted, but the geis forbidding him to take his own life was not. However, he is no longer immortal, and that is his consolation.