A serpent in the garden - Brother Anselm's Satanic lust for Sex

The chill wind whipped across the moor stunning everyone in its path with its ferocity and wildness. The bleak and desolate scene deterred even the heartiest visitors but one man trudged through thick snow, leaving a trail of sandal prints in his wake. Returning from his brief visit to the village to provide some comfort to the poor, their ailments plentiful but none more pressing than a lack of food, the harsh conditions of the preceding summer having provided no winter stores of note for those who toiled a few square feet of barren dirt, brother Anselm held his head bowed.

He did so not out of any religious requirement, he knew his God was watching over him always and would not bear him any ill will this particular evening having done good work with the peasants – his understanding of medicines had stood him in good stead over the years. He did so to keep his face from the stinging shafts of icy cold rain and sleet that bombarded his visage. It would not be long now, he thought, before he would be able to rest in his warm straw mattressed bed, in front of a modest fire. The fire was a treat reserved only for him – he could always use the excuse that he was brewing up some potion or mixture to cure one ailment or another. The other monks would be lying under coarse woollen blankets shivering he thought.

As he reached the large arched wooden door that barred his entrance to the Abbey he banged loudly using a metal ring that also served as a handle. Soon enough, Brother Timon opened the door and he walked through into the windbreak, thanking the Lord as he went.

Anselm settled in to his quarters, a good sized stone built room with a thatched roof and plenty of hangings that he had gathered over the years – depicting anatomical charts that he cited when working as the Abbey’s surgeon, they had an even more valuable role to play for him that night, they kept the warmth in. He had ingeniously had them woven into tapestries thus providing two functions. Anselm had all the bases covered he thought. This environment was perfect for him in most every way, except one and that was a constant source of irritation to this man of low morals and high libido.

To be continued.

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