Letters to and from an Imaginary Countess

My Supreme Transgender,


I beg a thousand pardons for the garnet-less candied sparrows, and you will find enclosed with this parcel two boxes of candied sparrows, one flock with eyes of emeralds for my Queen, and another with garnets for your drab Fulsome.

Next, I believe I shall send some canaries from the Azores. I am told the confectioner dusts them with cocaine and mummy extract. These bon-bons are generally conceded to have great aphrodisiacal powers. It is said that a limp-dicked man in Leyden turned alley-lurking street rapist in one week after consuming a small quantity! And I have heard stories of men who had to soak their codfishes in pitch to draw off the vital humours, as their erections would not be beaten into submission by man or God.

I trust you enjoyed the Saturnalia at court. I know you are Devilish in such milieux; one of my gambling confreres told me you were seen buggering an octogenarian Milanese Duke you had bent over in the Rhododendron Quadrant of the Royal Gardens. He said you were reading a Russian novel as you did so! I am glad to see your literary pursuits continue unhindered by the drolleries of Court which can so easily satiate.

A part of me became adamantine as the scoundrel related the details.

I trust you will not think less of me for having then patronized the Hall of Lascivious Orphans. You were not available. I tried! When I rang, your Footman told me you were "posteriorally engaged at the moment."

I understood that you were working, so I figured I would fetch up with you later.

I'm working on the "money thing." Parricide once seemed attractive, but my Begetters have departed for the New World on yet another one of their tiresome cruises (no doubt in orgy-seeking mode) so I figure Nature will do what I was considering, and at considerable less charge.

What is that Thing going on between you and Lady Trollop that I hear chatter of? Surely she can't imagine she can best you in any matter at Court?! Doesn't she know you've blown everybody you could possibly ever need favors from? Delusional woman to take on My Tigress!

The retarded man to whom you allude is dead.

I killed him because of your nascent interest. I pretended as though he stepped on my velvet shoes on Thursday and challenged him to a duel. He couldn't hear me (the man was deaf) and he just kept nodding in that pleasantish idiotic way. I used Nature's felicitous handicapping of the man to advantage, and solicited his servants to deposit him on the dueling grounds for me. I greased their palms with baksheesh so they would tell him it was a picnic Lady Swallows was giving and he simply must come.

As he was looking for the "pickle relish" I despatched him to a far, far better Place. (Away from your fuzzies.)

Lest you think me completely Unchristian, I will have you know I gave a handful of coin to a servant to help in the maintenance of his fourteen orphans. His wife died in that tragic poodleballing incident that occurred last year at Court. One of the Spring Orgies. You remember--the one with the nine-tier chandelier crashing down upon the revelers?

Forgive me this pettiness. But I must let My Leopardess know I am sincere in my Affections, and will brook no other suitors. Whom you fuck is of no concern to me, but I know how liaisons with pecuniary interests go, and I shan't have you locked away somewhere where I cannot have at you on a regular basis.

I wonder if it would be presumptuous of me to ask you to meet me Sunday morning for a few rounds of the old Satyrs and Nymphs, eh?

I await eagerly your purr of a response!

Oodles of Cum,

S__________________