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The Way to Paradise-Part 2

The saga of Count d'Langham continues as he trains his young married disciple Martine
When we last left our story we had discovered how Jean d’Langham a young country boy from France had joined the French Imperial Army as a naïve and wide-eyed blond seventeen-year-old “to find his fortune”. Posted far from the center of power in Paris the young lad had, at first, been downcast. Soon Jean learned that living on the edges of an empire had its own unusual advantages. Jean was taken under the wing of a certain demanding young woman named Apolline Descartes and educated in the art of pleasure via domination. The story continues with Jean, now a Count, having found his way to the idyllic African tropical paradise of Île de France.

The Count looked around his sumptuous and expansive bedchamber and slipped on his chocolate-brown soft kid-leather slippers. His mind wandered to the delicious young Manon who was only a few hundred feet away in the servant’s quarters. He wondered how the stirringly beautiful sixteen-year-old was spending her last evening as a virgin? He was so intrigued by the young beauty he almost wanted to summon her to the house. “Non!” Jean reprimanded himself. All wondrous things in life required patience Jean reminded himself, even the deflowering of virgins.

Jean was wearing his special loose cotton pants with a large flap cut in front to release his massive ten-inch cock as and when required. He wore no top to cover his hairless broad rippling chest and strong muscular arms. The Count had oiled his smooth skin and bulging muscles to a high sheen. He admired his own powerful profile in the floor length mirror. His highly defined muscles and veins glowed in the candlelight, the ridges on his abdomen hard and lacking even the slightest amount of fat. Jean smiled in admiration at his own male perfection understanding why young Martine and so many other gorgeous women on the island had become such ardent disciples of his body and his methods. He had no doubt ripe young virgin Manon would happily join his coterie of admiring female supplicants.

The Count tried to imagine what kind of dress Manon would wear the next evening for the ball, his cock filling slightly at the thought? He scooped up some delicious African groundnuts from a dish and munched on the delicacy that was brought over by the Somali traders in their tiny crest shaped boats. The nuts were rich in his mouth and he took a final sip of Cognac to wash them down. He then leaned down and blew out his bedchamber candles, darkness enveloping him as his mind returned to the woman he was about to debauch. “Martine, sweet young Martine.” The Count savored her name and savored the upcoming degradation he would inflict on her feeble husband.

Jean padded down the smooth grey stone steps in the secret back passage that led from his expansive private bedchamber to his specially constructed basement of pleasure and its elaborate rooms of varied themes. His soft kid-leather slippers made a gentle scrapping sound as they rubbed on the dappled grey stone steps. While he descended the steeply inclined stone stairs Jean rested his hand on the side stonewalls to steady his balance.

In the dark depths of the Count’s large grey stone African chateau Madame Pagnol, the young enchantress named “Martine” the exquisitely beautiful eighteen-year-old wife of one of his junior officers was eagerly awaiting her master’s arrival. On Jean’s patiently explained instructions Martine had left her clumsy husband Claude, a mere Sous-Lieutenant (Sub-Lieutenant) in the Troupes de Marine, at home humiliatingly tied by a collar and leash to the to the large wooden matrimonial bed.

He had instructed the young Martine that her husband needed to be “trained”. The young wife, despondent at her clodhopper husband’s pathetic performance in the matrimonial bedroom, had proved an eager and spirited recruit to Jean’s devilishly debauched “training” regime. Jean had proved a patient and persuasive tutor to the highly sexed young married beauty after her arrival on the island from France.

The lusty young wife’s initial training steps had involved disclosing her infidelity with the Count to her husband. Of course given Jean’s power on the island her husband had no choice but to accept this sad state of affairs. He was despondent to become a cuckold, but what could he do? As beautiful Martine progressed under Jean’s guidance he instructed her to no longer have sex with her husband, as her pussy was now the exclusive property of the Count. Step by step he followed the training program he him self had been taught by his Mistress Apolline. He slowly guided Martine to embrace the total sexual freedom of her own humiliation and submission as his adored special pet. The more that fiery and horny young Martine learned the more she became a zealous disciple.

Now in the final stages of training Jean had finally ordered pretty young Martine that on these evenings when they shared their wild sexual dalliances she was required to attach a collar to her husband’s neck and to leash him to their matrimonial bed. By this point Martine’s shock at Jean’s instructions was faux. The first time she performed this taboo task it made her giddy with excitement. Her heart had pounded as she tightened and secured the collar around poor Claude’s neck. Her pussy had tingled as she tied the leash to the bed her husband looking downcast and his eyes sad and averted. Binding her husband’s hands so he could not release himself had made her nipples harden and tingle in anticipation of the Count’s approval. Martine’s orgasms with Jean that first night she tied her husband to the bed had been the most explosive of her young life.

The Count’s young charge had then been further instructed by Jean to take further steps when she was leaving their home to sate her sexual needs with Jean. He instructed her to sit before her leashed husband and have a “little talk” with him before she left their junior officer’s quarters to make her now regular visits to his basement. He instructed Martine to inform her husband Claude in very clear and unambiguous terms of exactly “where” she was going and “what” she would be doing with the very well-endowed Count.

Jean cautioned the anxious Martine that at first her husband would weep and gnash his teeth and flail about the room and beg her not to go. This was to be expected he advised the young wide-eyed and innocent Martine. “C’est normal.” The flood of pathetic male tears and blood-shot red eyes, the simpering face and red-runny nose, it would all unnerve her, but Jean insisted Martine must remain resolute if the “training” was to be effective.

The first few times after subjecting her husband to the new discipline Martine had arrived at his chateau clearly shaken. Jean had always managed to calm her and convince her to continue with her husband’s “training”. It had not taken long and soon young Claude became more and more docile as the Count coached his young avid student Martine in the best techniques to subdue her husband’s weak character to her more dominant will.

Having followed the required steps of discipline the young Martine would depart her home giddy and horny in expectation of her sexual deliverance at the rough hands of her new master. Martine’s nubile young body craved to be ravished by the lusting masterful domination of the Count. The way Jean restrained her, slapped her if she were too insolent or demanding, the way his huge cock filled her every cavity to its limit was exhilarating: her mouth, her pussy, her anus all ached for her master. Martine’s entire body tingled in anticipation of the Count’s total domination of her every sense. Soon even the mere sound of Jean’s deep throaty voice could make her pussy cream and her nipples harden in involuntary reaction to his proximity. Pavlov would have been very proud of Jean.

After Martine had been completely ravished by the Count, his insatiable cock having turned her pussy and anus red and raw, she would take the Count’s small carriage for the short ride home. The sensual young adulterous wife, her sexy firm young body drained by orgasm followed by orgasm followed by yet another orgasm, her mind numb from domination, would return home to her cowering leashed husband huddled and whimpering next to their matrimonial bed.

Imagine the provocative vision the sexy young blond beauty Martine would make as she walked slowly towards her leashed husband Claude after returning from the chateau. Her clothes ripped and torn from the Count’s uncontrollable assault, her body red with welts, her eyes wide and crazed by unending body shaking orgasms; what must her betrothed think? Claude would know that his superior officer had satisfied himself with the taut young ripe body of his wife possessing her completely in ways that he could never match. Could Claude’s humiliation reach any higher heights?

Martine would then follow her master’s further orders to complete the “lesson” and deliver her final blow to her husband’s ever diminishing ego. The shapely young slut wife was required to hold her husband in her arms. The poor nervous fellow was, of course, still attached by collar and leash to the bed. Martine would hold her shivering husband in her arms and comfort him with soothing coos and soft sounds of endearment. Then in a very detailed manner Martine would begin her “story”. This was the part of the “training” that Apolline (Jean’s original Mistress) had referred to as “story time” and it was one of Jean’s favorite parts of the ritual and essential to successful humiliation and total submission.

Her face radiant the glowing young wife would recount for her husband blow-by-blow, thrust-by- thrust, orgasm-by-orgasm, what Count d’Langham had done to her tight taut young sex-crazed body. Martine would describe in every detail how she had screamed, moaned, wailed and how her firm young body had shaken and trembled and convulsed in response to the Count’s talented ministrations. Martine would describe how the Count had satisfied her in multiple ways her husband would never be able to accomplish. Martine would at a certain point of the story describe in graphic detail the massive length and girth of the Count’s copious cock. At this point in the story Martine would cast a sad-eyed look down at her husband’s pitiful skinny appendage flopping flaccidly between his legs and pout, a scornful look covering her countenance.

During this “story time” Martine’s husband invariably would get hard. His tiny dick, a thin stubby little thing, would stick up like a humorous joke. If Martine’s pussy happened to be full of the Count’s cum that evening she would then spread her legs and make her husband lick her pussy clean. How she loved watching her pathetic weak husband lap at the creamy cum and swallow the seed of her powerful masculine lover. Claude’s bride would then continue her “story time” and poor Claude, becoming too excited and unable to control himself at a particularly explicit point in the story, would shoot his puny load of thin watery cum.

With her husband’s white watery cum dribbled all over her dress, she would jump up and scream, “Look what you’ve done you scum. You’ve made a mess on my dress. Lick it off you useless pig!” Martine’s pathetic contrite husband was terrified of losing her forever and would then meekly beg for forgiveness from his enraged wife as he licked his own seed from her lace frock. Her heart would soar at the sight, pounding in excitement against her tiny female ribcage.

Under the Count’s firm hand of discipline Martine had become his ever-adoring plaything, his sex kitten, his sex slave; but here in her own home Martine had become the master, the dominatrix, the “Mistress” and her word was the law. The now very confident young wife would giggle her delicious high-pitched giggles and leave to have a long soothing bath with sandalwood oils softening her skin, their eastern fragrance intoxicating and calming her sex-excited spinning mind. During her languorous scented bath Martine would leave her humiliated husband huddled under a blanket on the floor, curled up like a leashed dog and sometimes sleeping in the puddle of his own sticky cum. Later she would drift off to sleep alone in the matrimonial bed, sated, satisfied and awaiting her next “visit with the Count”.

Soon enough (and as Jean had predicted) when pretty Martine applied the collar to her husband’s neck and tied him to the bed with the leash his tiny thin cock would immediately spring up. Poor Claude had been fully conditioned and the application of the collar now equaled sexual release and his own humiliation. Her husband now craved his own degradation and dishonor; he craved his shame and he hungered for his own wife’s domination at the hands of the Count. He was such a failure as a husband; he deserved it after all didn’t he? The Count had become just as much a drug for the addicted Claude as he had become for his sex-crazed young wife.

When Martine would dress in her beautiful lace dresses and prepare for a visit to the Count her husband Claude would fall to his knees and beg his wife to tell him what she planned to do that night with her master. She would always giggle her feminine giggles and smile down at her husband’s begging while patting him lovingly on the head as he crawled on the floor around her feet. She would tell Claude he must wait for her return to have his “story time”. Martine now understood that the Count had been correct and the training had been effective. Her husband Claude, poor pathetic small-cocked creature that he was, now looked forward to these special evenings she spent with the Count almost as much as she did or perhaps even more? The “cuckold” Jean explained to Martine was a very special kind of household pet. When properly trained the cuckold could get hard and cum just from the thought of his wife being taken by a dominant male.

The Count had by now descended almost to the bottom of the stairs. His manservant, the hunchback Ugolin, would have prepared the room for Jean’s evening enjoyment in every perfect detail. The thing about hunchbacks he thought to himself is that they are very loyal. As Jean reached the thick and heavy wooden door at the foot of the stairs Ugolin was standing off to the side in the recessed portico carved out of the grey stonewall. Ugolin was holding the jangling ring of black iron keys.

The Count turned and looked at Ugolin who was rubbing his hands nervously and bowing repeatedly toward Jean as a servant supplicant. He had to agree that Ugolin, while very loyal, was certainly not the most attractive creature on the island. Ugolin’s blackened crooked teeth, his thinning hair and reddish bald patches on his scalp, his stooped posture and curved hunched back and natty worn clothes did not paint a pretty picture. The Count may have not appreciated Ugolin’s external façade, but Jean knew that what happened inside the basement of pleasure would be kept in complete confidence. The kind of trust he had in Ugolin was not the kind you could purchase with gold coins. Twisted creatures of nature found an affinity in each other, birds of a feather so to speak.

“Everything is ready Ugolin?”

Ugolin fidgeted nervously his glassy blank eyes darting here and there more nervously than usual.

“Yes my master. Madame is in the ‘Red Room of Restraint’. Shall I return at the usual time?”

The Count nodded and smiled at his trusted servant as he pushed the thick wooden door open, his cock already swelling in anticipation of the fun to come. Jean loved the Red Room of Restraint. He pushed the door closed and heard it being locked by his trusted servant Ugolin. He heard the shuffling steps as Ugolin ascended the steep stairs in the slow irregular swinging gait of a hunchback.

The Count walked through the damp dark corridor and made his way to the left. On his right was the “Blue Room of Mirrors” with its gilded mirrors and piles of quilted pillows. Past the room of mirrors was the “Purple Room of Pain” with its racks of varied whips and paddles. Entering the “Red Room of Restraint” Jean was greeted by the site of the naked white-skinned body of young Claude’s beautiful wife prostrate and splayed out, chained by each ankle and each wrist. Adele together with Jean’s team of beautiful young female housekeepers had meticulously removed every hair on Martine’s pale white body and softened her skin with exotic and expensive scented oils. Two large log fires burned in impressive stone fireplaces at each end of the room warming it and offering a golden light that licked at Martine’s perfect pale white skin.

The Count’s sexy student of pleasure was standing bent over a wide smooth flat wooden bar positioned at her waist. The wide bar was secured to the floor by two thick wooden posts. The wooden bar formed an angled support platform about eighteen inches wide with smooth rounded edges. The wooden bar was designed to fit perfectly under a woman’s hips and along her stomach and to offer support to the chained person’s abdomen as she was bent over forcing her ass out into the air. Another post was positioned forward of this bar with a small padded leather head rest so the woman could rest her head while she was bent over and immobilized.

The wide wooden bar at Martine’s hips had a deep half-moon carved into its middle ensuring that both the anus that was being pushed out into the air and the pussy immediately below the anus would be fully accessible to anyone standing behind or kneeling below the restrained person. The young wife was bent over at the waist and each wrist was pulled wide to the side by a leather cuff and a thin taut chain attached to the sidewall. A solid metal ankle spreader cuffed to each ankle spread her ankles wide. Martine’s firm rounded white ass pointed straight out from her bent-over body completely vulnerable to anyone. The Count’s sex-pet was totally immobilized and her ass and pussy were at his mercy.

At her master’s approach Martine began to whimper, cry and mew in a mixture of strange female noises. Jean smiled knowing that his mere presence could now cause this young woman’s pussy to cream with a thick viscous liquid shining in her slit. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading for something. Did she desire mercy? Or did she lust for the ecstasy of “almost pain” and perfect pleasure that only her master could deliver? Whatever it was the total submission in Martine’s eyes acknowledged her release would require her master’s deft touch. Her throat constricted tightly feeling tight and dry. A hesitant nervous whimper escaped her throat and Jean’s hand lashed out so fast she did not even see the slap coming. Martine’s face whipped to the side, her cheek turning red and burning.

“I’m so sorry my Count….I…..I…..”

Martine’s stuttering blubbering and pleading were interrupted by Jean’s command.

“Shut up you worthless bitch. Did I command you to whimper? Did I consent for you to look at me?”

Martine cast her eyes immediately to the stone floor, averting them from her master’s face. A tremor rippled through her nervous body, but seeing the huge bulge in the light cotton of her master’s trousers, her pussy became even more wet, its puffy-pinkish outer lips becoming coated with slick, thick viscous creamy secretions of hope. She pulled her neck up trying to watch Jean’s position, but the thick leather collar attached by a chain to the floor held her head down and severely restricted her movement.

The powerful Count grabbed a fistful of his gorgeous sex prisoner’s long blond hair and yanked upwards lifting her head roughly against the leather collar and bending her neck backwards. He ran a large masculine hand down to one of Martine’s dangling plump young firm breasts. His fingers roughly grabbed her small pink nipple and rolled it hard as he kissed her forcefully on the lips thrusting his tongue into her sweet young cherry-lipped mouth. Claude’s wife moaned uncontrollably in response to the Count’s exercise of manhood and ownership and her body squirmed in lusty expectation of more.

Jean pulled out his massive ten-inch cock from the bulging light cotton trousers and dangled it, hard and massive, only an inch from Martine’s soft sweet lips. He made the young adulterer beg for his cock before once again grabbing a fist-full of her hair and placing his cockhead lightly against her sweet lips.

“Suck my lovely. Suck your master’s cock. Prove to me you are worthy.”

She licked her lips, getting them well lubricated before enveloping the massive purple-red cockhead and swirling her tongue around its stiff rim. Jean threw his head back and moaned as his lovely subordinate’s wife began to play with his manhood in her warm mouth. He drove his big thick cock forward causing young Martine to gag. He began to slowly fuck her sweet soft young mouth while holding her head steady with a fist-full of her lush golden blond locks. Jean’s groans mingled with Martine’s moans as both of their arousals grew in eager carnal intensity.

As the Count commenced taking his liberties with the beautiful young Martine, his ever-faithful servant Ugolin knew he had two hours at least before he must return. The loyal but deformed dwarfed cretin skulked out the back door of the chateau nervously. By habit the hunchback used the shadows as much as possible as he went past the vegetable garden towards the stables. He would meet Florette in the dark and in the shadows where creatures like him self felt comfortable and safe. Like two harried fugitives they met in secret and Ugolin handed her the ring of dark metal keys. The hunchback looked up at Florette his eyes watering, his hands rubbing together nervously, expectantly.

“My reward? What about my reward? You promised?”

Florette had done a deal and now was time for payment. She called out to Marie and the pretty young seventeen-year-old stable girl approached in a flower print frock. A simple cotton dress to be sure and second hand and worn at that, but even the simplest cloth could not diminish Marie’s youthful beauty and undeniable sex appeal. Ugly hunched Ugolin began to salivate at the mouth and licked his lips at the enticing sight of young Marie with her flared hips and firm young breasts. Florette motioned for the two of them to go to the blankets she had laid out behind the stack of straw.

“And hurry Ugolin! We don’t have all night. We need to take care. Any misstep could lead to disaster.”

Florette took the keys on the ring and began to make impressions in the candle wax she had formed into a thick block square. Florette could hear the hunchback Ugolin grunting and rutting as he fucked the sweet young teenage Marie only a few feet away. She had promised the young stable girl a position in the household if her plan succeeded in return for satisfying the hunchback’s base needs. It didn’t take long before the hunchback’s grunts had ended and Marie emerged, her hair all tousled with little pieces of straw stuck to her floral print dress.

“Are you okay my dear?” Florette enquired.

“I have had worse sister.”

Young Marie forced a tense fake smile. She trusted and worshipped Florette and out of respect addressed her elder with the intimate term “sister”.

“When my virginity was first taken by the foreman it was much worse you know. While my mother and I knew what was expected of me as a mere stable girl, still I……”

Marie’s voice quivered with a slight tremor as she recalled losing her virginity at the hands of a brute. It was not rape of course, but still the young girl’s wound was deep. The older woman could feel her despair as the young girl’s mind was cast back to that traumatic day. The young stable girl continued.

“He is a rough and coarse man. That was a hard day.”

Florette nodded to the young girl in acknowledgement of their bond of sisterhood, of bearing the burdens of being a woman. She could see the distress in Marie’s eyes, the reflected pain of her rough life under the control of rough men. No matter how much a woman denied the pain another woman could detect it in her eyes. The life of a woman, especially a pretty young woman like Marie who lacked a male protector was very difficult on Île de France. This was the burden of being born with a sweet desirable young pussy and being under the power and whim of despicable men with fewer morals than an insect. Ugolin’s hunched form came shuffling from around the stack of straw with his awkward unbalanced hunched gait making him look like an apparition from Hell. He was fixing his clothes and bore a limp satisfied grin on his distorted face, his eyes glazed with sated lust.

“The keys Florette? And remember if anything happens I had nothing to do with this.”

Florette handed the black ring of metal keys back to the disgusting stooped creature, his body gnarled and knotted by unknown dark forces of evil. Perhaps a local witch had cast spell on his mother when she was pregnant Florette speculated. The hunchback’s mother had committed a sin of some sort to cause such deformity, but of what nature who knew? Ugolin’s short dark and dwarfed hunched frame quickly skulked away into the long black shadows and the two women were left alone.

Florette looked back at sweet young Marie. The older woman could see the glistening almost-tears gathered in her eyes. She could tell the young girl was struggling not to cry, trying not to show any weakness. If there was one thing Florette had encyclopedic knowledge of it was the human heart. A fifty-year-old French officer had taken Florette herself at sixteen with her mother’s consent. While she had been willing the memory of the older officer’s huge hard cock and how terrifying it had been to spread her legs for the first time was still vivid in her mind even after all these years. The sight of young Marie in such distress at servicing the hunchback almost broke her heart. She took the young stable girl by the hand and led her back to the blanket on the dry yellow straw where they laid down.

Florette put the beautiful young stable girl’s head on her ample bosom and stroked her hair while making soft cooing sounds to soothe her young charge. The tears began to flow and Marie began to sob uncontrollably. She let Marie cry for a little while to provide solace for her pain. When the sobs had stopped Florette softly reminded Marie of their dream, of their plan. She told her to close her eyes and dream of a better day when her own daughter Manon would deliver them to a better place. With that Florette let her right hand slide under Marie’s thin cotton frock and rest on young Marie’s firm right breast. Her left hand shifted to Marie’s silky soft thigh and she softly stroked.

Florette continued her soft words and sweet promises with her soft calm voice lulling pretty young Marie. At the same time her right hand began lightly grazing over the sensitive skin of the young girl’s right breast. Soon enough she could detect Marie’s breathing rate was increasing and she felt Marie’s nipple harden and become erect under her light touch. The older woman did not change the tempo of her strokes, but smiled a knowing smile.

Young Marie clenched her eyes closed even more tightly as Florette added more light touches with her left hand, stroking up and down Marie’s soft smooth thigh. The light strokes on her breast and thigh soon had her breathing heavily and Florette then moved her left hand higher. She began to stroke softly around Marie’s pubic mound teasing the wispy tufts of soft silky hair and at the same time she lightly pinched Marie’s now hardened nipple. A sharp intake of breath let her know the young girl was enjoying the feather-like feminine touches. She spoke to young Marie softly, relaxing her and lulling her into a peaceful rest and teasing her senses to help her forget the session with the repulsive hunchback.

“I am just massaging you my dear. Relax and close your eyes my darling. I am like your older sister. I will take care of you. Do not worry.”

She felt young Marie’s body relax and soon little soft sounds started to be audible from the beautiful doll lying in her lap. Yes the stable girl was trying her best to restrain her sounds, but she could only do so much with Florette’s experienced touches making her more and more aroused. When she sensed the moment was right she let her finger trace the outer lips of Marie’s pussy. She felt the stickiness of Ugolin’s disgusting cum that was leaking from the sweet young girl’s vagina. Marie’s body tensed at first, but Florette proceeded patiently and soon her finger was swirling and touching Marie’s hard erect clit. The pretty stable girl now began to moan more loudly and her legs involuntarily spread wider allowing the older woman full access to her recently violated womanhood.

She looked down and watched Marie’s young body. She was amazed at the young girl’s fresh green beauty and graceful curves that had so recently blossomed. It was so cruel thought Florette that this very sparkling beauty, which in France should have been a gift from god, on this island was like a curse. She wanted nothing more than to relax young Marie and to give her a few moments of respite from the horrible world the young maiden inhabited. She stroked Marie’s pussy faster with her fingers and listened happily as the young girl began to lose control. Moans and groans and simpering cries began to be emitted from Marie’s throat. The young girl’s body began to tense and she began to thrust her hips up against Florette’s teasing hand and fingers seeking her release.

She knew a woman’s body very, very, well and she played with Marie and teased her until young Marie thought she could bear no more. Again and again Florette took young Marie to the edge of release before letting her fall back. The older woman’s fingers felt like a magic wand casting spell after spell on Marie’s throbbing pussy and burning nipples. Each time the tingles, the burning, the need, seemed to get more and more intense. Marie’s fingers gripped tightly onto her forearm, the aroused girl’s nails digging into the older woman’s skin, as she wordlessly implored Florette to deliver her into sexual oblivion. The young stable girl could feel her pussy walls contracting in violent contractions as they sought a cock to cling to, to rub against, to release against. Each time Florette simply toyed with her and Marie could only moan and groan in frustration waiting for her release.

Finally Florette decided the writhing body grinding against her hand had had enough. She brought Marie to the edge a final time and her hand now soaked in the girl’s slick pussy juices mixed with Ugolin’s cum she drove two fingers into Marie’s tight young pussy. She used her thumb to rub Marie’s erect clit while she made circular motions with her fingers inside Marie’s pussy, feeling the walls grasping at her digits. At the same time Florette’s right hand rolled Marie’s right nipple hard and then it happened. Florette felt Marie’s young body shake and shudder and then it went rigid and arced off the ground. Marie tried to stifle the cry, but it was impossible.

“Aaarrrgggghhhhhhhhh…….”

The young girl cried out like a feline cat being raped in the alley. Her fingernails dug deeply into Florette’s skin and her body shook violently as wave after wave crashed through her young body. Florette kept her fingers moving as best she could to continue the massive orgasm as long as possible. The wild animal intensity of Marie’s cries surprised even Florette as she felt the young girl’s body writhe and twist uncontrollably in her lap. Marie’s eyes were clenched tightly shut in denial of the woman delivering the pleasure and Florette had no idea what image floated in young Marie’s head to deliver such a crazed release of passion. Was it the image of a naked woman or a naked man? Was it an image of Florette herself? Most probably she would never know as these were the secrets damaged souls kept hidden inside.

She let young Marie’s breathing slowly return to normal. Florette slipped her fingers slowly out of the young girls tight pussy and wiped them on her soft cotton frock. She slid her right hand off Marie’s breast and began stroking her hair softly again and cooing reassuring words. Soon enough young Marie had fallen asleep in Florette’s lap and the older woman leaned back and rested against the bale of hay listening to the sound of the girl’s heavy breathing and snores. Finally she relaxed as her job was done for now and she too relaxed. The wax impressions were hopefully worth the risks she had taken.

Growing up in Île de France Florette had learned all about the sins of the world and the violence of living on the edge of grandeur. Florette had met hubris personally in the aristocracy. Florette dealt with avarice daily and she knew extravagance and gluttony lived only a few meters away in the stone chateau. Envy was all around as was the sloth of the ruling French class. But above all else, when it came to the human heart, Florette knew lust. As Florette’s sad soft eyes gazed down at the slumbering young Marie, her chest rising and falling softly in deep sleep, finally free in dreamland, Florette knew it was her duty and that of her daughter Manon to free this young girl for a better future. They had a plan and the plan must work.

Back in the basement of the huge stone chateau Jean was continuing his debasement of beautiful young Martine, the gorgeous blond wife of his subordinate. He grinned wickedly as Martine sucked and tongued his huge cock. Jean had a special surprise tonight, a new twist to their playtime. He would take Martine’s training to the very next level. He pulled up hard on the fistful of golden blond hair he was holding, abruptly ripping Martine’s mouth off his tingling cock. Martine’s tightly latched cherry-lips made a loud “popping” sound as his thick purplish cockhead was pulled out of her eagerly sucking sweet young mouth. He laughed a deep husky laugh on hearing the loud popping sound reverberate in the stone room. Martine cried out from the pain of her hair being pulled so harshly by the roots.

“You are so eager tonight my dear. You are sucking my cock with genuine enthusiasm?”

He patted Martine’s head like you would pet that of a pet dog. Jean ran his hand slowly down Martine’s neck and reached under and played with one of her pert pinkish nipples turning it quickly hard. Jean’s eyes savored the firm gentle curves and contours of this young woman’s perfect taut body. He thought of Manon, the young virgin he would deflower the very next night in this very same basement. Where Martine was blond and beautiful and French, a cultured young wanton wife, the young Manon was wild, dark, lusty and tropical, an untamed slave girl; the two were like opposites of sexual attraction. Where beautiful young married Martine was born to a French family in civilized Paris and baptized a child of the holy savior, Manon was a mongrel child without any race or pedigree, a virgin sex-nymph born into pure nature on a stack of straw in this Garden of Eden paradise called Île de France. Which one would satisfy him more he wondered completely unaware that his sexual gluttony was a gross perversion of nature?

Jean moved around Martine’s tightly secured body running his hands possessively over her curves and stroking her waist and firm ass. He owned her now and possessed her just like he possessed the horses in his stable. Martine was his property as certain as the sun rose in the east and set in the west, it was simply the way of nature. In nature he thought it was only natural that the dominant male would mate with the most desirable females. Lesser males would be pushed to the side. As he gazed at the sexual perfection of her firm body he was certain Martine’s pathetic husband had no right to this wonderful prize.

Martine whined and nervously mewed in nervous worry and tried to squirm and twist her body as she both hungered for Jean’s touch and feared it may turn into something to be feared at any moment. Jean picked up a crystal decanter of Cognac from the sideboard and poured a large glassful. Putting his hand roughly under Martine’s chin Jean forced her head up. He brought the glass of Cognac to her lips.

“Drink up my dear. I have a special surprise tonight.”

Jean tipped the glass back and Martine gulped as the strong alcohol seared its way down her throat. He poured too fast and some of the amber liquid dribbled down the sides of her chin. He brought the glass back a second time and made her drink more. The desirable sweet young wife was not used to the strong Cognac and her head was soon spinning, her eyes losing focus. Jean’s body seemed to be swirling around the room as Martine tried to keep him within view her fear and nervousness growing, her body sweating. She heard his throaty husky laughter as she frantically looked to see where he had gone. Her body tightly chained, her neck collar secured to the floor, there was little Martine could do. Craning her neck this way and that way she struggled to look behind her as she frantically worried where her master had gone and what he was up to?

Martine thought her ears must have been deceiving her? Was that another woman’s voice? Jean suddenly re-emerged from an unseen side door. He was striding in long deliberate strides with his muscular chest glistening and oiled in the firelight. Her master was leading one of his special servant girls “Elodie” by a short leather leash. Martine’s eyes went wide as she saw the tiny young naked girl being led on a leash. Elodie was petite and young, perhaps only eighteen or so. Martine had never seen this petite girl before and she had no idea why Jean had brought her into the room. Elodie was no more than five-feet tall and perhaps only ninety-pounds. She was actually nineteen years old, but she was so tiny and cute she looked like she was sixteen.

Pretty young Elodie looked so tiny and delicate beside Jean’s huge muscular body. This young girl had an almost completely flat chest with only tiny slight mounds passing for breasts. These little rises were adorned with the cutest little light pink nipples. Elodie’s light brown hair was cropped pixie-short like a boys with her front bangs angled across her forehead. The dominant feature of Elodie’s youthful face was her huge almond eyes and pencil thin arched eyebrows. Other than the hair on her head and her eyebrows, Elodie’s body was completely hairless and smooth. Elodie followed Jean meekly clearly waiting for her master’s instructions. Martine began to speak her voice strained and nervous.

“But Jean…..she’s a woman and…”

Martine paused her face blushing bright red.

“I’m naked Jean……Please!!”

Martine’s final “Please” was a cross between begging and a wail of despair. When Jean’s hand arrived to strike Martine’s ass the harsh “smack” sound that reverberated in the stone chamber was so loud it made Elodie shrink back in fear her neck pulling against the black leather collar and her eyes flying wide and crazed in distress. With Jean you never knew his mood and how quickly it could change and Elodie was clearly on edge.

“You dare to question my judgment you adulterous slut?”

Jean looked at Martine in clear disgust at her outburst. He paced back and forth assessing the situation and rubbing his chin in deliberate thought. Jean stopped pacing having made up his mind.

“Perhaps I was wrong about you Martine. I thought you were doing so well. Shall I dismiss you now? Do you wish to return to your clodhopper husband to be serviced by his pathetic little stub that passes for a cock?”

Jean looked Martine in the eyes. Her tear-filled eyes looked back pleading with Jean for understanding hoping he will comprehend her distress and confusion and have mercy. Martine had never been with a woman and she was terribly confused by this new turn of events. The arrival of this boyish naked nymph with slender hips and flawlessly smooth hairless olive skin was so disconcerting.

“But….but……she’s a……”

Jean’s hand was lightning fast and Martine’s cheek was burning with pain before she even realized he would strike. Elodie flinched again in fear, whimpering behind Jean and tugging on her leash as she realized things were not going as her master wished.

“Who is the master here? Let me ask you that woman? Is it me or is it you?”

Jean glared at Martine in clear challenge daring her to meet his eyes.

“You are my master.”

Martine whimpered in answer her eyes averted and glancing nervously at the small young woman only a few feet away now. Jean moved closer pulling petite Elodie by the leash. Jean reached down slowly with his big hand and pulled Martine’s chin up so that she was forced to meet his stern unwavering eyes.

“Do not question me Martine. Is that understood?”

Martine’s eyes were red and rimmed with glistening tears. Did she fear what was about to happen or did she fear being sent away and never feeling like a complete “woman-slave” again? Martine’s body shivered when she realized how very close the young naked girl now was to her own completely vulnerable chained body. Martine nodded in total submission.

“Yes master.”

Jean smiled and stroked Martine’s cheek softly.

“This one time Martine I will explain to you since you are still a student. My Mistress Apolline taught me that every woman has secret desires, secret needs; sexual fantasies that she denies even to her self. It is the master’s obligation to search for these desires, to pry into the dark crevices of his student’s mind and to unlock these desires for his disciple. Do you understand Martine?”

Martine’s eyes were drying and the redness was getting less. She nodded and her nervousness was slowly abating, her heart rate slowing.

“I have noticed how you look at other attractive women in pretty frocks at our parties. I have seen how your eyes dilate and how you gaze upon their obvious beauty. I have felt your heart rate increase in the presence of a sexual delicacy, an exquisite morsel that we both desire. Do you deny this Martine?”

Martine’s face burned red in shame, her cheeks hot. The worst part was that there seemed to be no way to keep secrets from her master. Jean seemed to know her better and more truthfully than she was willing to acknowledge her own self. Jean looked into Martine’s eyes and his glassy pupils reflected Martine back like a cruel mirror reflecting every twisted flaw and perverted desire. How had Jean been able to pry into her soul like this? Could this powerful man read her mind Martine wondered?

Martine’s horny pussy began to cream and wet as strange thoughts roiled her pretty young head confusing her. Turbulent images of slender naked young women dancing could not be repressed and Martine struggled to know her self, to plumb the depths of her darkest desires. Jean softly stroked Elodie on the hip and let his hand rise to stroke across her tiny bud-like breasts. Martine’s eyes could not resist following Jean’s hand as it traced the girl’s body. She licked her lips at the tempting sight of this perfect young boy-woman.

“Look what I have brought you to play with my darling. Do not try to resist me or you know what that means. Succumb and become delirious and fulfilled in your submission. Only in total submission can you become a complete woman and learn how to train and dominate your pathetic husband.”

Jean reached out to the side table and selected the large smooth black dildo. This wooden replica of Jean’s very own massive cock had been carved out of the finest hard black Ebony from the Gold Coast of West Africa. The dildo’s perfectly smooth black surface had been carved with a perfect cock head rim and even bulging veins had been carved into the surface. Then the dildo had been sanded to a perfectly smooth surface and oiled to a high gleaming shine. Jean dipped his hand in the dish of scented oils and liberally coated the heavy wooden sex instrument.

Jean walked steadily and deliberately towards Martine’s offered ass and pussy that were propped up into the air by the supporting wooden bar. There was something about training a pretty young married slut that was so delicious and delectable. Jean led petite young Elodie with him by the leash. The boyish young Elodie followed with bashful timidity her eyes averted from her master. When Elodie thought Jean was not looking she cast her eyes at Martine’s beautiful slender feminine body with obvious desire. Elodie couldn’t help but admire Martine’s fuller breasts, wider hips and especially Martine’s long glistening golden locks of hair that looked aflame in the flickering firelight.

Martine began to cry again, tears coursing down her pink cheeks, as she was so confused about what was about to happen. What would this young girl who looked at her with such obvious lust do to her? What would it feel like if a girl touched her intimately? What if others found out? What about her modesty and civility? What would the priest say at confession? Martine could only cry and wail in her confused state of mind craning her head this way and that way in panic. Martine whined and cried out and begged in soft whimpers imploring Jean to explain, but Jean only stood impassive.

Jean stroked Martine’s head gently as she stretched her neck against the tight black leather collar trying to look into Jean’s hazel eyes. Martine could tell from the steely gaze that met her despair that there was nothing impromptu about the arrival of this new pretty pixie young girl. Jean pulled his large body up behind Martine’s perfect taut ass holding his large black instrument. Jean’s hand stroked from Martine’s waist across her wide hips and down to her inner thigh. Jean let his finger run up and down Martine’s creamy slit in a teasing brush against her soft silky pussy hairs. Martine shivered and her legs trembled in anticipation, a sharp intake of her breath denoting her nervous state. Jean spoke.

“I have told you before Martine. This time listen carefully. A good master is a callous master. If I were to listen to your pathetic whining and crying you would never learn your true inner self. What you call ‘mercy’ is in fact the worst form of punishment. A half-life of unfulfilled boredom having never lived as your true self; is that what you want Martine? Do you want to be untied and return to your husband now to live that half-life?”

Martine was cowed and nodded her head negatively. Jean smiled.

“Well then let us proceed my little pet. I think I know what you need better than you do your self.”

Jean turned to Elodie and let her leash fall from his hand to the ground. Jean motioned for Elodie to kneel on the ground beneath Martine’s hips. From the side table Jean passed Elodie a small ivory handle with several long soft bristles on the end.

“Un baiser colibri!”

Martine’s eyes flew wide and she mewed in nervousness as her hips wiggled wondering what a “hummingbird kiss” might be? Jean lowered the dildo towards Martine’s tight little pucker of light-brown tissue at her anal sphincter. As part of the “preparations” Jean’s assistants had used warm soapy water and scented oils and coconut creams to meticulously clean Martine’s sphincter and rectum. Jean now used his hand to liberally coat Martine’s firm ass with more scented oils. Jean used his finger to drive more oil up Martine’s ass. Martine gasped in surprise and grunted as Jean probed up her tight ass with his fingers, coating it with more oils.

The flickering golden light of the log fires danced on Martine’s flawless body and turned Jean’s rippling muscular chest golden. Martine’s eyes took on a mischievous silver sparkle, as she knew what was about to happen. Martine was afraid, but more than this she was thrilled. To be filled completely, to be taken to your limits as a woman, to be dominated and used until you were sexually exhausted; it was wrong she knew, but Martine had become addicted to it like a drug. Martine was a married woman and she knew this was “wrong” in civilized society, but her animal sexual needs as a woman had taken over and this island paradise was far from any civilization. Martine could not even imagine returning to the pathetic two-minutes of humping and immediately falling to sleep and snoring that her husband had previously called “sex”.

Jean used his strong arm to bend Martine over further and he bent down biting her neck his hands playing with her breasts and nipples. Martine’s heart began to race in excitement. Jean’s bites became harder and more urgent and then he pulled himself up and began slowly pushing the oiled dildo up Martine’s ass. Martine groaned and moaned feeling the stretch as her sphincter expanded to take the wooden instrument. Jean slowly worked the dildo back and forth, adding more oil several times and finally worked it a good six or seven inches up Martine’s rectum. Martine’s breathing was becoming heavier now and her sounds and cries more animal-like.

Jean took his now erect thick cock in his left hand and rubbed it with more of the scented oils. Jean then took his thick cockhead and rubbed it against Martine’s now dripping pinkish-puffy pussy lips. A ragged guttural moan escaped from deep in Martine’s ribcage. Martine’s pussy was contracting in excited anticipation and she could feel it tingling and pulsing waiting to be filled by her master’s huge manhood. He dipped his cockhead into Martine’s tight pussy about an inch or so and felt her body tense in expectation of deeper penetration. He repeated the short thrust, but a little deeper the second time, feeling Martine tense again and yelp a little at the sensation of being filled in both holes. Jean held his hips steady. Martine’s needs were insistent and she wanted more than anything to push back against Jean’s big cock so she could feel herself impaled, but she was immobilized by her restraints.

“Please master, fill me.” She begged.

Martine called out in a growing sexual delirium. Jean paused and patiently waited even longer, making Martine beg for his thick long cock. Finally he drove his thick cock in a third time even more deeply making Martine gasp. He began a cadence of slow steady strokes gaining depth each time. Jean’s cock could feel the wooden dildo through the thin wall of skin separating Martine’s tight young pussy from her rectum. After several strokes he had worked his massive cock all the way into Martine’s tight married pussy. Jean paused and let his hips rest against Martine’s firm rounded ass. The Count then reached down and tapped the waiting Elodie on the shoulder. This was her signal to begin.

In her excitement at taking the dildo up her ass and taking Jean’s massive cock in her pussy Martine had forgotten all about the little pixie waif on her knees on the floor. Bent over Martine now opened her blue eyes. Martine was staring at the back of Elodie’s slender boyish frame and small, flat boyish ass. Elodie was crouching on her knees directly under Martine’s own hips. Martine watched in wonder as the tiny young girl placed one hand on each of Martine’s thighs and brought her small mouth up towards the top of Martine’s pussy. There was nothing Martine could do. The dildo was up her ass, Jean’s cock was thrusting slowly into her pussy and as if in slow motion Martine watched as young Elodie brought her tiny feminine mouth up and placed it directly at the top of Martine’s pussy and began licking. Elodie’s small pink tongue flicked out with a direct hit on her tingling clitoris and the tiny girl’s fingernails dug into Martine’s thighs.

The sensation was beyond incredible. Martine’s eyes glazed and her mind spun in a haze of exalted wonder as the tiny boy-woman’s mouth worked its magic on her clitoris. How could young Elodie flick her tongue in just the perfect spot? How could she flick it so fast Martine wondered? At the same time as Elodie’s mouth was working this new enchantment on Martine’s now hard and erect clit Elodie moved her tiny fingers to Martine’s delicate pink nipples and began rubbing them. As Martine felt the waves of pleasure wash through her body she was certain this diabolical girl must know some secret sexual voodoo black arts to create such incredible sensations of intense pleasure. Martine’s hard nipples soon turned to little sensitive rubbery points of pleasure driving new wild tingles to her almost overwhelmed brain.

Jean’s calloused hands gripped Martine’s shoulders roughly and he began to thrust into her tight pussy with more urgency and force, grunting and groaning with each new thrust. At the same time the dildo would be similarly thrust up Martine’s ass each time Jean drove his hips forward. The growing moans, groans, cries and whimpers reverberated in the stone cavern basement, the sounds bouncing off the hard stone walls and building into a melodious sexual aria as their collective body fevers increased. Martine felt her pussy walls begin to involuntarily convulse yet again as she began to lose control of her body in the frenzy and furor of this unbridled assault on her every sense by Jean and his young boy-woman assistant Elodie.

Jean felt Martine’s pussy grasping at his thick cock and smiled. He reached under and felt Martine’s stomach muscles to see how tense they were and how aroused his little pet had become. Jean realized he was taking Martine to new levels and smiled a self-satisfied grin. The Count then reached down and tapped Elodie on the shoulder again. At this second signal from her master the young Elodie took the small slender ivory handled brush with five or six long slender bristles on its end and pushed the bristles in and brushed them against Martine’s now highly aroused clitoris. At the same time as Elodie was using the bristles Jean thrust his hips forward and drove his cock as deeply into Martine’s tight young pussy as he could, the dildo similarly being driven deep into Martine’s snug contracting ass. The effect of these combined actions was dramatic.

The chained young wife cried out wildly in a manic hysteria of sexual stimulation. The sensation of Elodie’s soft lips against her smoothly waxed pussy mound and slick pussy lips, the feel of the young girl’s warm tongue teasing her sensitive clitoris and now the shock of these tiny soft bristles brushing and poking her hard pleasure button—it was all too much. Jean’s massive cock filling her as a woman, the dildo filling her resisting ass and the young girl pinching her nipples and teasing her clitoris caused Martine to explode with an enthusiasm and emotional commotion she had thus far never experienced.

As Elodie sensed her subject begin to explode in orgasm she completed the “hummingbird kiss” by moving her tongue in a flurry of light flicks, just delicately touching the very tip of Martine’s clitoris while at the same time poking it with the soft bristles held in her right hand. The bristles (according to Jean) were to represent the hummingbird’s beak as it sucked the love nectar. With her left hand Elodie continued to twist and pinch Martine’s responsive breasts. Martine’s legs trembled uncontrollably and weakened at the knees and her eyes clouded over in a deranged sexual hysteria as every nerve and synapse in her body exploded. Jean held his hips hard against Martine’s firm ass holding his cock and the dildo deep in her love cavities. Wave after wave of passion rocked Martine’s brain and body as the ardor ripped her from inside out.

It took a while for Martine’s racing heart to slow to a more normal beat and her eyes could not focus for some time. Eventually she felt her restraints being removed and in a daze she was led over to the mattress at the other end of the room in front of the fire. Jean lay down on the soft burgundy bed and his cock was jutting up in the air, a massive glistening instrument of pleasure. Elodie led Martine like a mother leading an innocent child to the edge of the bed and motioned for her to mount Jean’s cock. Martine’s pussy was still throbbing and tingling from her massive orgasm and as she slid Jean’s cock into her she let out a satisfied female sigh.

Elodie slid her own slim thigh over Jean’s face and lowered her small narrow hips onto his waiting mouth and tongue. Martine began to move her hips as she rode Jean’s body. The cock filling her was so satisfying, so filling, Martine could not resist. Martine began slowly thrusting her hips building a rhythm against Jean’s resisting hard rod. Beautiful golden haired Martine lifted her blue eyes and she was looking straight into the doe-like eyes of the young boy-woman. Elodie smiled and took Martine’s hands into her own tiny hands. The two women began to thrust in unison, one on a cock, one on a tongue.

Was this a dream? Was this boy-woman nymph real? Martine’s lust began to rise and with it all her shame evaporated as if a light fog had been struck by sunlight. Martine’s eyes began to wander over the slight boyish body of young Elodie and new carnal desires began to awaken in her. Martine looked at Elodie’s tiny breasts in lust and she couldn’t help a sexual shudder wracking her body at their fragile beauty. Elodie reached out and pulled Martine’s head to her tiny chest. Being held in the young woman’s arms comforted Martine; she savored the warmth of her tiny body, the floral smell of her hair and she wanted more. The sensation of Jean’s cock filling her was wonderful, but this young girl’s body was completely new and thrilling. When Martine opened her eyes there was a tiny light brown nipple right in front of her. Desire dictated everything and Martine’s mouth latched onto Elodie’s tiny nipple and light brown areola and she began sucking and licking.

The two women mewed and cried and moaned as they writhed their bodies on top of Jean’s muscular torso. The intensity of their arousal grew and Martine was nearing her next orgasm. Elodie’s hands seemed to go everywhere in a blizzard of delicate touches that was driving Martine closer and closer to explosion. Martine herself explored and touched Elodie in ways she could have never imagined possible before this night. Shamelessly Martine’s hand reached down and stimulated Elodie’s hard erect clit as she felt Jean’s tongue brush against her own finger. Martine was astounded such a tiny woman could have such a large engorged clit. When Elodie’s body shuddered visibly in response to Martine’s touch she blushed in satisfaction.

Soon enough Martine was at the edge of her cliff of desire and ready to fall into the abyss of release. Jean’s massive cock was turning her pussy into a throbbing mass of burning tissue. Elodie’s deft touches and looking at her boyish body were driving Martine’s brain near breaking point. At that moment when Martine was totally disoriented by uncontrolled lust Elodie pulled her face close to Martine’s. Martine’s blue eyes locked onto Elodie’s dark bottomless orbs and incomprehensibly the two women were kissing. The taboo thrill of the kiss was so intense Martine’s body exploded and her body shuddered and shook uncontrollably. As Martine felt the tiny waif’s tongue invade her at-first unyielding mouth, a girl tenderly kissing a girl, her pussy erupted in a convulsion of flame and shivers shot up and down her back like a searing near-pain sensation.

The two women collapsed on the mattress, their bodies completely exhausted. Jean was still hard and looked at the two sweaty naked bodies almost with disinterest. Did he even want to come he wondered? Should he save it for the sweet virgin Manon tomorrow? The delicious new virgin would be a wonderful treat. Jean straightened himself up and looked over Martine’s body. His cock throbbed from all the stimulation.

“You are certainly a tantalizing morsel Martine. You are wasted on your stupid husband. Your perfect young body is quite something and now that you have discovered the pleasures of another woman I think you are becoming a very special pet.”

Martine was almost too exhausted to respond, but she smiled weakly, happy in her master’s approval. Jean’s eyes took on new intensity as he continued to gaze at Martine’s body. Jean gazed at her full breasts and her wide hips and smoothly hairless pussy mound. Jean coolly pulled Martine to her knees so she was on all fours. Martine’s legs were so tired they shook a little to even hold her own weight. Jean dropped behind Martine and let his hand run the length of her curved spine before taking in the slope and curve of her ass. Jean’s fingers stroked the small of her back as he spoke.

“Do you still want your master’s cock my dear?”

Martine was tired, but she did want more cock. Before having sex with her pathetic husband she could never have imagined her capacity for multiple orgasms, but now she was learning and exploring her limits. Even one orgasm with her husband was a miracle. Now with Jean who knew how many you could have in one night or how big they could get. If you now add another woman to the mix? The young wife’s mind was boggled by how much she had learned in such a short time.

“Yes master, please fill me.”

He leaned forward and placed small love bites all over his pet’s shoulders and back. Jean let his kisses and bites trail down towards her fine ass. He put his lips next to Martine’s ear.

“I will fuck you and then tonight you will tell everything, every detail, to that stupid husband of yours. Tell me you will describe everything to him and then I will fuck you.”

She felt herself getting wet and tingly again just at the thought of “story time” and telling her husband what they had done tonight and how she had come so many times.

“Yes master, I will tell him everything in detail.”

Jean smiled.

“Even the part about Elodie?”

Martine knew how before she would have been too embarrassed and she could never have told her husband she had kissed another woman and been with a woman sexually. Now, however, Jean had set her free. He was her master and what right did she have to disobey him? Martine felt the pressure in her chest being released. Her master had set her free!

“Yes, even the part about Elodie. Everything master.”

Jean let his hand move down past the curve of Martine’s beautiful ass and stroke her creaming slit, drawing a finger through her outer lips to tease her. The Count felt her body shiver and he admired its perfection. This beautiful young wife will look wonderful carrying my child Jean thought to him self. Jean slid his finger inside her tight pussy and felt its tight warm walls as he began to arouse her for a final time. Jean teased Martine’s clit and played with her pussy using his expert finger to bring her to the point of being ready for his thick long cock. The Count’s teasing finger was suddenly replaced by his thick cockhead as he pushed his hard rod up against the tight outer lips of her pussy that now craved to be filed once more.

“YES! Yes Jean!”

Martine groaned calling for his cock in a deep husky voice as her master thrust forward. She felt the Count’s thick solid cock slowly filling her as her tight pussy spread to accommodate it. As Jean pushed forward Martine had to brace her knees and arms against his force. As he began entering her pussy Elodie had maneuvered herself in front of Martine’s face and spread her legs. As Martine felt the thick cock begin to arouse her she could see this tiny delicate hairless pussy in front of her face. She had already gone so far and the temptation was too great. How many times had Martine imagined licking another girl’s pussy in her dreams and fantasies? Too many times to count was the truthful answer. Now here it was, Elodie’s sweet young pussy was inches away from Martine’s lips and tongue and this was no dream.

Martine felt the Count grab a fistful of her hair as his thrusts into her tight pussy became more urgent. As he drove forward with a particularly strong thrust her face was pushed right up to Elodie’s young hairless pussy. Elodie’s legs were spread wide on the burgundy mattress and Elodie was playing with her own nipples. The sexy boy-woman’s eyes were closed and her short hair was tousled and wet from body sweat. Martine bent her head forward and tentatively pushed out her tongue. She was incredibly nervous, but she could not resist this perfect pussy. Just one taste she thought to her self.

The first touch of Martine’s tongue to Elodie’s pussy lips was electric sending Martine’s brain into a new frenzy. The taste was tangy and fruity and soon Martine could not help her self, she was licking and sucking with abandon as the young girl’s sweet peachy juices flowed filling her mouth. The horny young wife surrendered to the moment and reached her hands forward to grip Elodie’s tiny hips and flat ass to better steady her hips so she could lick the girl’s sweet pussy with more force.

Her probing tongue easily found Elodie’s large engorged clit and began to lick and play with it. She began using her tongue to curiously explore this new taboo place; teasing Elodie’s clit and feeling Elodie’s body shake in response was a new thrill for Martine. This fresh feeling of control she experienced over another woman’s body was amazing to her. Martine felt her own orgasm coming closer and closer as she lapped her tongue into the young girl’s tight pussy and Jean rammed into her pussy from behind. The grunts and groans, the cries and moans, the whimpers from Elodie, the tiny pretty breasts being played with by Elodie’s own slender fingers; the sensations and visual stimulation were all too much and she felt another huge sexual explosion approaching.

The Count for his part was building a steady rhythm and his cock was burning and tingling. Watching the golden haired head of his disciple suck at Elodie’s pussy was an added stimulation and he groaned deeply enjoying the view. He thrust in and out with increasing speed and ferocity as he sought to sate his inner demons. Jean was approaching that wild state of lustful abandonment where a man forgets who he is and has no earthly cares. His fingers were digging into Martine’s hips painfully, but she was too far-gone to notice and she would only notice the welts the next day. The Count’s breathing had become ragged and rough as he felt Martine’s pussy spasm uncontrollably on his cock. Young gorgeous Martine was amazed at her master’s total control. Her husband couldn’t last two-minutes and this man could pound her relentlessly for ages making her come again and again.

Jean began to grunt as he neared the end. His thrusts were still strong and he was fucking Martine powerfully, but he too was ready for release. He reached under Martine’s body as he thrust and used his finger to play with her clitoris. At that very moment Elodie screamed in high-pitched feminine delight and grabbed at Martine’s head in orgasmic-despair. Martine dug her fingernails into the small girl’s hips, her tongue flying across Elodie’s now burning clit as she reveled in delivering her first female orgasm.

Elodie’s tiny boy-woman’s body arched off the mattress in a rigid arc of tense muscles as the young girl had a massive orgasm that shook her slim body wildly; Martine kept flicking her tongue on Elodie’s clit to drive her ever higher. Elodie’s fingers moved from Martine’s head to her own tiny breasts, pulling madly at her own almost non-existent breasts and little light-brown hard nipples as the tiny girl lost all control. Martine did her best to hang on and keep her mouth and tongue on the young girl’s tantalizing pussy as the young girl began to writhe and thrust madly against her mouth. Martine was totally amazed at having delivered her first female orgasm of such intensity. Martine’s heart pounded with a new breathtakingly thrilling excitement that electrified every sense she possessed.

The Count continued to play with Martine’s wet clitoris. His fingers were flicking fast and soft followed by flicks that were slow and hard in an alternating cadence of teasing touches. Somehow her master seemed to know exactly what Martine wanted, what she needed, how she wanted to be touched. Jean’s mastery and knowledge of her body and her carnal needs was completely unlike her useless husband who seemed to know nothing. Martine reveled in Jean’s expert ministrations as she rose nearer and nearer to her own next orgasm.

As young Elodie exploded into violent orgasm, her sweet juices covering Martine’s face, Jean increased his pace slamming his cock again and again into Martine’s tight throbbing pussy. Elodie’s screams of pleasure and shrieks of joy drove Jean to a new level of excitement. His finger simultaneously circled Martine’s now almost over-sensitive engorged clit and his other hand pulled roughly on a fistful of her hair. Unlike her normal build-up to an expected explosion, this time Martine was consumed by a sudden orgasm that she had been unaware of until it took her by surprise and gripped her body in its all-consuming grip. Her responsive body convulsed like a detonator had been ignited and she pushed her hips back against Jean’s driving hips taking his long thick cock as deeply into her self as possible. Martine’s throat was paralyzed and her mouth gaped open as she struggled for air with Jean impaling her on his driving iron rod.

Martine felt a new sensation; her orgasm consumed her whole body and her mind became a total blank as everything became simply “the orgasm”. The feeling was so intense she feared she might black out and faint as her paralyzed throat was incapable of sucking in enough air. The now sex-crazed young wife was only vaguely aware of the tiny boy-woman in front of her, the sweet succulent pussy she was sucking upon and the huge cock driving into her. Everything was a blinding sexual haze as waves of desire wracked her taut young body and sparks ignited in her brain mushrooming into yet another wave of pleasure that shook her body.

As Jean looked at the sight before him his mind flashed back to his days as a young officer in Narbonne. Jean recalled how his mistress Apolline would select a beautiful young female of seventeen or eighteen (just like the young Martine whom he was fucking now) for Jean to fuck from behind. Then Apolline would spread her legs in front of the young beauty (just like the little young beauty Elodie was doing now) and Apolline would let the jeunes filles lick her soft fragrant pussy with her gentle tongue as Apolline cried out in feminine delight. Jean smiled at his recollection of those happy days that seemed now to have been so long ago.

The Count soon forgot his recollections as Martine’s screams and groans coalesced with Elodie’s screams and cries into an intermingled cacophonous sexual symphony that took Jean over the edge. Jean came hard and groaned as his balls pulled up tightly into a hard sack before a searing load of cum shot out into Martine’s tight pussy. Martine could feel Jean bite her shoulder and break the skin as he fought the intensity of his thunderous orgasm. Martine could feel Jean’s heart pounding against her sweat covered back as he collapsed onto her body in a heavy heap of male muscle. The three of them collapsed naked into a pile on the burgundy mattress in a tangle of sweaty limbs. The scent of sex, sweat and scented oils hung in the air and the flickering firelight turned their naked bodies a shimmering golden color.

The Count soon raised him self up and his huge cock coated now with drying sex juices hung flaccid between his strong thighs. Jean instructed his attendants to cleanse Martine with a wet warm cloth and to dress her in a new cotton frock before sending her back to her husband. Jean chuckled looking at the two beautiful women holding each other in unabashed naked beauty. Jean was thinking of how Martine’s belly would soon swell with his child, a complete humiliation to the young officer who by law was her husband. Everyone on the island would know Martine was the property of Jean and the child was his bastard.

As he gazed at the two naked young beauties splayed across the burgundy mattress a tiny seed of dissatisfaction began to grow and bother him. Jean’s mind, his sexual inner core, still contained an empty space, an unfilled need. He thought back to his first mistress, the woman who had taught him everything, the incomparable Apolline. Jean’s mind drifted back to that special time in Narbonne and how General Descartes wife had taken the naïve young Jean under her wing. Notwithstanding all of his success and power the Count looked back on his time in southern France as a time akin to a golden age. Finding a woman like Apolline was as rare as sighting the delicate grey Slender-billed Prion on your hunting trips in the wilds of the island. The Prion was a rare bird only occasionally sighted on the island and Jean knew it was unlikely he would ever find another Apolline? A woman who could collar a man as powerful as Jean was a rare specimen indeed.

He sighed with regret thinking of the radiant coquette Apolline and how she had set him free. Jean rubbed his neck in thought remembering how Apolline’s two huge male beasts would hold his arms as she applied the leather collar to his neck. He recalled how Apolline would smile a wry smile and how intoxicating her perfume smelled as she leaned into him to tighten his collar and attach his leash. Even the mere memory caused Jean’s cock to begin to engorge with blood again. He recalled how Apolline had leashed and collared him and traded him with her friends like a piece of property. He recalled how Apolline would sit and chat with her female friends while he kneeled naked next to her like her pet dog. Apolline would simply hold Jean’s huge cock in her hand as if it were a fan or a glass of wine, oblivious to how his cock would swell and harden as she chatted nonchalantly ignoring her young charge.

Jean’s fickle mind was never satisfied for long and even such a debauched evening with young Martine and Elodie could not settle his agitated state completely. The Count moved towards the thick wooden basement door as thoughts of the beautiful young Manon, tomorrow’s virgin feast, began to roil his brain. Of course there would never be another Apolline, but he still had the tantalizing virgin Manon to look forward to. The Count knocked on the thick wooden door and he heard the metal jangles of the keys as his trusted servant Ugolin opened the door for his master to exit to his bedchamber.

His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of the beautiful young Manon and he ignored the hunchback rubbing his hands nervously together. The deformed dwarf hunchback kept his head down, as his master passed not daring to meet his eyes. The Count ambled up the steep stone stairs slowly thinking of tomorrow’s birthday party for the Governor and debating which of the rooms he would lead young Manon to for her introduction to sexual pleasures? Perhaps the room of mirrors John ruminated? To see many Manons at the same time might be a special treat? Taking a virgin was always thrilling and one needed to select just the right room.

Only a short distance away in the servants quarter’s dark haired young Manon was huddled with her mother Florette discussing the upcoming party. Manon described for her mother in detail the incredible dress constructed from the finest expensive silks and Belgian lace that Madame Montebourg had made for her. Manon did not elect to tell her mother how Madam Montebourg had kissed her and how she had put her tongue in her mouth or how this had made her pussy wet and tingle.

Meanwhile on a ship ten days out of port and its imminent arrival in Île de France was another beauty destined to play a key role in Jean’s future. The beautiful and delicate sixteen-year-old vivacious Parisian aristocrat Marie Solange Yvonne Decaen, daughter of the Count of Noyon, niece to the Governor of Île de France, was on her way to join her new husband far from civilized Paris where Marie had been trained at Court. Young Marie (or “Eve” as her close friends knew her at Court) would now be known as Countess Marie d’Langham since becoming Jean’s betrothed a few weeks before at a lavish ceremony in Paris.

Jean’s new young wife had no idea what to expect, but at the whirlwind wedding where her uncle had given her away her new husband had appeared very charming and the perfect aristocrat; handsome, virile and rich. The strangest thing about the wedding was her new husband’s refusal to bed her that wedding night. Jean had explained to his tearful new wife that he wanted their first time together to be on their new island paradise in her new special home. Jean had left the bedchamber and his new wife had removed the special lace garments she had selected to lose her virginity in as she sobbed and hugged her pillow crying and lonely.

At their first meeting before the wedding to say Jean had struck Marie as “handsome” was not sufficient. All of Marie’s friends in Paris had swooned at the sight of Jean’s muscular body and his obvious male confidence as he strutted about in his official uniform. Two of Marie’s married friends had offered to fuck Jean so they could tell her how he was in bed before the holy ceremony. Collette had turned to her and brashly offered, “Eve, let me bed him. I’ll tell you everything.” The collection of young women on the cusp of married life discussing Marie’s wedding trousseau had giggled madly at the daring proposition. Marie had blushed wildly and refused her friend’s generous offer fuck her fiancé although the images the offer conjured up in her mind made her pussy tingle. As the Count of Noyon Marie’s father had controlled shipping on the Oise Canal and the family had great wealth. However as a woman Marie was in no position to secure her future, as her father the Count would leave all the family’s wealth to her older brother.

Marie’s uncle Charles had stepped in and kindly offered to arrange a propitious marriage to his rising subordinate Count d’Langham. Marie and her father had been uncertain at first knowing nothing at all about this distant Count. Marie’s mother had quietly confided in young Marie that there were rumors among the older women at Court that Count d’Langham was a “favorite” of Madame Apolline. The power of Madame Apolline and the strings she was capable of pulling were well known among the aristocracy. Marie had approached her father and intimated that she had changed her mind and now was very much in favor of the match. Marie’s father had sealed the agreement with his brother and young Marie, only barely sixteen, had been promised to Jean as a suitable aristocratic wife for a rising star in the French Imperial Army.

Jean reached his bedchamber and downed some more Cognac to dull his inner pain and emptiness. The exhilaration of his time with Martine and Elodie had already faded. He sought slumber and sleep through the narcotic of strong alcohol. What would the future bring the brooding Count wondered his mind unsettled and bothered? Manon the beautiful dark sixteen-year-old servant girl only hours from being deflowered by Jean’s massive cock also wondered what would the future bring? On a rocking French ship, its full white sails billowing in the wind and only a few days out from port, her stomach queasy from the waves, Jean’s beautiful young blond aristocratic sixteen-year-old new bride also wondered what will the future bring?

To be continued……..

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