Countess Waltrude
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The Countess Of Cum free porn video
What follows is the true and terrible record of the Countess Mila, who sought to harness the “seed of life” to remain eternally young.
I must remain anonymous for posterity’s sake, so call me Ichobod. I nearly fell prey to Mila’s powerful allure.
For me, it began in the year 1795 in the small village of Stone Gorge, in the shadows of the mysterious Carnalia Mountains. I was but ten and seven years, and had never ventured more than a few miles from my home. Living with my parents and younger siblings, I’d expected to live the humble, uneventful life of a blacksmith. But fate had something very different in store for me.
Like everyone else in my village — and that dark corner of Eastern Europe — I’d heard all the legends about the insatiable, evil Countess Mila. She was said to be nearly two hundred years old, yet appeared no older than thirty. Further, it was said she maintained this unholy youthfulness by siphoning the very life-force of men, taking their life energy, leaving them empty husks incapable of fulfilling manly tasks for the remainder of their days.
I’d never truly believed these stories, until the night I was taken from my home by force, the perpetrators so uncannily silent that my parents never even awoke. The black shapes were almost like wraiths, and despite the fact that my slight frame belied my growing strength (I was, after all, an apprentice blacksmith), I was no match for them. Only when they flung me, my feet and hands bound, over the back of a horse at the edge of the great forest, did I suspect why they were taking me.
I heard one of them chuckle derisively, “the Countess will be pleased. No way this one’s ever lain with a woman.”
A moment later, they pressed a foul-smelling rag against my nose and mouth, and the world became black.
I awoke naked, on the cold stone floor of what appeared to be a dungeon. My head was pounding. I moaned, in pain and confusion, and a female voice answered. from the dimly-lit corridor outside my cell.
“Try to at least sound like a man.”
I looked up. Out of the dimness, a woman pressed herself against the bars of my cell, assessing me cooly. Only when she lit a torch did I realize she nearly naked herself! Curly, jet black hair fell over her shoulders. A scabbard hung from a broad leather belt at her hip, but that was almost the totality of her clothing: the only other things she wore were sandals and looping metallic bands on her upper arms and ankles.
Despite my situation and the pounding in my head, my manhood immediately began to become rigid. It was then I truly became aware of my nakedness, for smiled a bit as she noticed. I tried to move to conceal my excitement, but my movements were restricted by the shackles.
“Do not be embarrassed, boy. In fact, it’s a good sign that fear has not clouded your ability to become aroused. Otherwise, the Countess would have no need for you…and what she does not need, she cuts off.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
“W-why am I here? Where am I?”
She produced a key from I don’t know where, and unlocked my cell.
“You are in the Castle of Countess Mila. As to why you’re here…you’re about to find out.”
She knelt aside me, unlocking my shackles with the same key. I could smell her…her womanhood. Blood surged toward my member in response to this olfactory stimulation.
“I warn you now, boy. No touching. Not me, and not your cock. Trust me when I say you would not want to experience the consequences. Now, walk ahead of me.”
I did as she asked, stumbling out of the dank cell and into a torchlit corridor lined with identical cells. She guided me through winding, oppressive hallways. Soon, I began to hear the din of many voices up ahead…behind a large wrought iron barred door.
“Go ahead,” she urged. “Quickly. The Countess does not abide hesitancy.”
She swung the large iron door inward, and I noticed the sturdiness of the muscles flexing in her lithe arm.
“Go in. Now.”
I stepped forward into a large, circular, arena type structure. But instead of benches filled with spectators to watch some great spectacle in the central space below, the chamber was lined with ascending rows of stalls. In each of these stalls was a naked man, his hands locked into manacles attached to the stall’s frames. Something glittered amid the rows of stalls….something metallic: winding silver runnels trailing down toward something sunken into the central stage area.
My escort prodded me, slapping me on my bottom. “Stop staring and move. This way.” I was guided to my own stall. I caught the eyes of several other men - though, like me, most were barely out of boyhood - and each seemed as puzzled and scared as I was.
A scant moment after I was pushed into my stall, the guard roughly placed my wrists and ankles in the manacles attached to the stall’s frame, leaving me unable to move. My erection had softened by this point. As she clicked the lock in place, my guard hissed in my ear.
"Don’t let the Countess see you flaccid!”
With that, she disappeared. I surveyed my surroundings, now with a better vantage point. I was some four rows up from the sunken central space, which appeared to be an onyx bathing tub, perfectly circular in structure and inlaid with arcane runes. I noticed that my stall, too, had a silver runnel attached directly at the level of my upper thighs; it winded its way down toward the tub, as did all of the other miniature aqueducts. Suddenly, something clicked in my mind: The Countess’s legendary hunger for men’s “life force,” the placement of the runnels…and strangely, I was excited despite myself.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden beating of drums. Once again, the large iron door to the chamber opened, and an honor guard of naked, armed women - including the one who’d taken me from my cell - filed in. They drew their swords, holding them aloft.
In unison they chanted, “let your staffs rise in honor of the great Countess Mila! Rise your staffs! Rise your staffs!”
Suddenly, previously unlit wall torches sparked to life simultaneously, filling the chamber with flickering light.
A moment later, a figure draped in cape and cowl padded down toward the tub. I noticed the bare feet of a woman at the hem of the cloak. As she passed, her head turned slightly toward me, and I caught the orange glint of an eye.
When she reached the edge of the great onyx tub, she left the cloak slip from her shoulders, revealing the most incredibly delicious body I have ever set eyes on, even all these years later.
She stepped into the tub and turned her gaze around the chamber slowly, a haughty half smile playing at her mouth. I looked down my row, and already men’s staffs were indeed rising…I looked at my own, and it was following suit, almost painfully. I badly wanted to stroke it, as I had so many times beneath the covers of my bed, or in the woods. My body was at its erotic peak, wearing powerfully to spread its seed, and I could see that my companions were most likely the same as me — virgins.
Countess Mila reclined in her tub, spreading her legs wide, revealing the dripping flower of her sex. I was overcome by an urge to lick it, to shove my tongue into the great female mystery I’d never seen before.
She began to massage her…well, the guys in my village called it a honeypot. And that is what it resembled. Her fingers were soon coated with her juices, which she rubbed across her belly and firm, perfectly sized breasts; she writhed in sexual pleasure.
Suddenly, the manacles of every stall in the room opened as one, leaving our hands free. Were our ankles not locked in place, the men in the room likely would have rushed the Countess, risking the guards’ blades just for the briefest touch of her skin. As it was, there was only one thing we could do.
The female guards chanted once more.
“Give forth your seed! Bestow the life force flowing through your loins on the Countess!”
My mind possessed by lust, I grabbed my shaft, my eyes never leaving the writhing, laughing form of the Countess.
Within less than ten jerks of my hard penis, a geyser of cum erupted from my manhood; instinctively, I aimed it into the runnel at my hip. Spurt after spurt of pearly semen landed in the silver track and began its trek toward the Baroness, pulled slowly by gravity. Men moaned in pleasure all around me, and I realized I was moaning, too. Thick semen was spurting from the hundreds of cocks in the chamber, most of it landing in the runnels. As I watched the first drops of cum fall into the onyx tub, I realized I was becoming aroused again.
This time I tried to enjoy it more, going slowly as I watched the Countess begin rubbing the cum flowing into her tub all over her body. I stroked myself slowly, then faster. Again, I unleashed a torrent of my seed into the now-slimy runnel.
As I watched, the Countess’s tub filled with semen just as I might fill a bucket with water. The Countess appeared to almost be in some kind of fugue state, furiously shoving cum covered fingers in and out of her honey pot — and even her other hole! Once again, I set to work on my cock, furiously jerking, thinking of what it might feel like to penetrate the woman bathing in the seed of the men all around me.
Eventually, we were all spent, unable to provide any further seed. We slumped against the barriers of our stalls, our gazes still captivated by the Countess, who was laughing in rapture, her eyes glowing orange.
Some time later…it may have been hours…Mila rose from her tub, every inch of her body slick with our cum. Sneering, she walked back up the aisle she’d entered in, leaving slick footprints behind her. Again, my penis began hardening.
When she’d left, the guard who’d brought me in came to fetch me again. “W-what now?” I asked her, barely able to stand.
In answer, she asked me, “how many times were you able to offer your seed to milady?”
“I…uh…nine or ten?” I managed.
Looking down at my half-erect penis, she narrowed her eyes. “Next you go back to your cell. You have passed the first test. Not everyone here has. You will be fed and bathed, so that you can regain your strength. And then, in a fortnight — during which time you will be unable to touch yourself — you will once again be brought here to serve the Countess.”
To Be continued…
I must remain anonymous for posterity’s sake, so call me Ichobod. I nearly fell prey to Mila’s powerful allure.
For me, it began in the year 1795 in the small village of Stone Gorge, in the shadows of the mysterious Carnalia Mountains. I was but ten and seven years, and had never ventured more than a few miles from my home. Living with my parents and younger siblings, I’d expected to live the humble, uneventful life of a blacksmith. But fate had something very different in store for me.
Like everyone else in my village — and that dark corner of Eastern Europe — I’d heard all the legends about the insatiable, evil Countess Mila. She was said to be nearly two hundred years old, yet appeared no older than thirty. Further, it was said she maintained this unholy youthfulness by siphoning the very life-force of men, taking their life energy, leaving them empty husks incapable of fulfilling manly tasks for the remainder of their days.
I’d never truly believed these stories, until the night I was taken from my home by force, the perpetrators so uncannily silent that my parents never even awoke. The black shapes were almost like wraiths, and despite the fact that my slight frame belied my growing strength (I was, after all, an apprentice blacksmith), I was no match for them. Only when they flung me, my feet and hands bound, over the back of a horse at the edge of the great forest, did I suspect why they were taking me.
I heard one of them chuckle derisively, “the Countess will be pleased. No way this one’s ever lain with a woman.”
A moment later, they pressed a foul-smelling rag against my nose and mouth, and the world became black.
I awoke naked, on the cold stone floor of what appeared to be a dungeon. My head was pounding. I moaned, in pain and confusion, and a female voice answered. from the dimly-lit corridor outside my cell.
“Try to at least sound like a man.”
I looked up. Out of the dimness, a woman pressed herself against the bars of my cell, assessing me cooly. Only when she lit a torch did I realize she nearly naked herself! Curly, jet black hair fell over her shoulders. A scabbard hung from a broad leather belt at her hip, but that was almost the totality of her clothing: the only other things she wore were sandals and looping metallic bands on her upper arms and ankles.
Despite my situation and the pounding in my head, my manhood immediately began to become rigid. It was then I truly became aware of my nakedness, for smiled a bit as she noticed. I tried to move to conceal my excitement, but my movements were restricted by the shackles.
“Do not be embarrassed, boy. In fact, it’s a good sign that fear has not clouded your ability to become aroused. Otherwise, the Countess would have no need for you…and what she does not need, she cuts off.”
I didn’t like the sound of that.
“W-why am I here? Where am I?”
She produced a key from I don’t know where, and unlocked my cell.
“You are in the Castle of Countess Mila. As to why you’re here…you’re about to find out.”
She knelt aside me, unlocking my shackles with the same key. I could smell her…her womanhood. Blood surged toward my member in response to this olfactory stimulation.
“I warn you now, boy. No touching. Not me, and not your cock. Trust me when I say you would not want to experience the consequences. Now, walk ahead of me.”
I did as she asked, stumbling out of the dank cell and into a torchlit corridor lined with identical cells. She guided me through winding, oppressive hallways. Soon, I began to hear the din of many voices up ahead…behind a large wrought iron barred door.
“Go ahead,” she urged. “Quickly. The Countess does not abide hesitancy.”
She swung the large iron door inward, and I noticed the sturdiness of the muscles flexing in her lithe arm.
“Go in. Now.”
I stepped forward into a large, circular, arena type structure. But instead of benches filled with spectators to watch some great spectacle in the central space below, the chamber was lined with ascending rows of stalls. In each of these stalls was a naked man, his hands locked into manacles attached to the stall’s frames. Something glittered amid the rows of stalls….something metallic: winding silver runnels trailing down toward something sunken into the central stage area.
My escort prodded me, slapping me on my bottom. “Stop staring and move. This way.” I was guided to my own stall. I caught the eyes of several other men - though, like me, most were barely out of boyhood - and each seemed as puzzled and scared as I was.
A scant moment after I was pushed into my stall, the guard roughly placed my wrists and ankles in the manacles attached to the stall’s frame, leaving me unable to move. My erection had softened by this point. As she clicked the lock in place, my guard hissed in my ear.
"Don’t let the Countess see you flaccid!”
With that, she disappeared. I surveyed my surroundings, now with a better vantage point. I was some four rows up from the sunken central space, which appeared to be an onyx bathing tub, perfectly circular in structure and inlaid with arcane runes. I noticed that my stall, too, had a silver runnel attached directly at the level of my upper thighs; it winded its way down toward the tub, as did all of the other miniature aqueducts. Suddenly, something clicked in my mind: The Countess’s legendary hunger for men’s “life force,” the placement of the runnels…and strangely, I was excited despite myself.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden beating of drums. Once again, the large iron door to the chamber opened, and an honor guard of naked, armed women - including the one who’d taken me from my cell - filed in. They drew their swords, holding them aloft.
In unison they chanted, “let your staffs rise in honor of the great Countess Mila! Rise your staffs! Rise your staffs!”
Suddenly, previously unlit wall torches sparked to life simultaneously, filling the chamber with flickering light.
A moment later, a figure draped in cape and cowl padded down toward the tub. I noticed the bare feet of a woman at the hem of the cloak. As she passed, her head turned slightly toward me, and I caught the orange glint of an eye.
When she reached the edge of the great onyx tub, she left the cloak slip from her shoulders, revealing the most incredibly delicious body I have ever set eyes on, even all these years later.
She stepped into the tub and turned her gaze around the chamber slowly, a haughty half smile playing at her mouth. I looked down my row, and already men’s staffs were indeed rising…I looked at my own, and it was following suit, almost painfully. I badly wanted to stroke it, as I had so many times beneath the covers of my bed, or in the woods. My body was at its erotic peak, wearing powerfully to spread its seed, and I could see that my companions were most likely the same as me — virgins.
Countess Mila reclined in her tub, spreading her legs wide, revealing the dripping flower of her sex. I was overcome by an urge to lick it, to shove my tongue into the great female mystery I’d never seen before.
She began to massage her…well, the guys in my village called it a honeypot. And that is what it resembled. Her fingers were soon coated with her juices, which she rubbed across her belly and firm, perfectly sized breasts; she writhed in sexual pleasure.
Suddenly, the manacles of every stall in the room opened as one, leaving our hands free. Were our ankles not locked in place, the men in the room likely would have rushed the Countess, risking the guards’ blades just for the briefest touch of her skin. As it was, there was only one thing we could do.
The female guards chanted once more.
“Give forth your seed! Bestow the life force flowing through your loins on the Countess!”
My mind possessed by lust, I grabbed my shaft, my eyes never leaving the writhing, laughing form of the Countess.
Within less than ten jerks of my hard penis, a geyser of cum erupted from my manhood; instinctively, I aimed it into the runnel at my hip. Spurt after spurt of pearly semen landed in the silver track and began its trek toward the Baroness, pulled slowly by gravity. Men moaned in pleasure all around me, and I realized I was moaning, too. Thick semen was spurting from the hundreds of cocks in the chamber, most of it landing in the runnels. As I watched the first drops of cum fall into the onyx tub, I realized I was becoming aroused again.
This time I tried to enjoy it more, going slowly as I watched the Countess begin rubbing the cum flowing into her tub all over her body. I stroked myself slowly, then faster. Again, I unleashed a torrent of my seed into the now-slimy runnel.
As I watched, the Countess’s tub filled with semen just as I might fill a bucket with water. The Countess appeared to almost be in some kind of fugue state, furiously shoving cum covered fingers in and out of her honey pot — and even her other hole! Once again, I set to work on my cock, furiously jerking, thinking of what it might feel like to penetrate the woman bathing in the seed of the men all around me.
Eventually, we were all spent, unable to provide any further seed. We slumped against the barriers of our stalls, our gazes still captivated by the Countess, who was laughing in rapture, her eyes glowing orange.
Some time later…it may have been hours…Mila rose from her tub, every inch of her body slick with our cum. Sneering, she walked back up the aisle she’d entered in, leaving slick footprints behind her. Again, my penis began hardening.
When she’d left, the guard who’d brought me in came to fetch me again. “W-what now?” I asked her, barely able to stand.
In answer, she asked me, “how many times were you able to offer your seed to milady?”
“I…uh…nine or ten?” I managed.
Looking down at my half-erect penis, she narrowed her eyes. “Next you go back to your cell. You have passed the first test. Not everyone here has. You will be fed and bathed, so that you can regain your strength. And then, in a fortnight — during which time you will be unable to touch yourself — you will once again be brought here to serve the Countess.”
To Be continued…
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