The Slithering: The Cloak And The Dagger free porn video

Warning: This story is intended to be a TG horror story. There are scenes of masturbation, rape, veiled incestuous undertones, and other complex fetishes. The Slithering: The Cloak and the Dagger by DocVS and EvilED Prologue: Beaufort Royale, September 1859 The young boy quickly wiped the large amount of sweat from his brow, finding it very difficult to withstand the unbearable heat of the dingy workshop as he placed the fiery, malleable blade against the flat surface of the blacksmith's anvil. The thick, black smoke choked his lungs and he gagged a bit while trying to maintain his composure. Grabbing his small hammer with his left hand, the boy raised it upwards and then forcefully brought it down against the blade with a loud strike, as bits of heated metal spewed forth. This was a considerably trickier job than what the boy had been used to, as the blade was considerably wider and shorter, as the boy was crafting a hunting sword for himself. He was knowledgeable in crafting and molding metal into different types of sharp weapons, including foils, rapiers, and sabres. It was a trade that the boy had learned well and had dedicated approximately six years of his currently existing twenty years towards refining and polishing his technique. The boy turned the blade around and raised his hammer again, striking the surface with a loud *CLANG*, so that he could shape the metal into the proper orientation he desired. His forge was starting to die down, so the boy immediately grabbed the bellows and used it to push air into the large set of coals, to keep the large bright yellow and orange flames going. The creation of this air also happened to blow a bit of black smoke, making the boy cough some more. Stopping his action for a brief moment he took a damp cloth to wipe his soot-covered hands before rubbing his nose with his right index finger, while he looked down at himself. Even amidst all the smoke and soot, the boy was of a average yet well-built frame, as the dirt and grime could not completely hide the repulsive prison of his dark-skinned flesh. He had a rather tragic childhood; born unto a life of slavery, he had been forcefully separated from both of his parents when he was only ten years of age, as they both had been immediately transferred from their current employment to work for the plantation/estate of the then newly-arrived Comte d'Beaufort. Surprisingly enough, the boy did not shed a single tear during this entire traumatizing event, choosing to keep his anger and sadness hidden. The boy was subsequently taken under the wing of a local blacksmith, Oliver Walters, but their relationship was anything but cordial. Oliver was formerly a very skilled craftsman himself, but the years of indulging in so many bottles of rum and partaking in the pleasurable company of women had degraded his abilities, and had saddled him with a reputation for being boorish, shady and negligent with his craft. He oversaw the boy's tutelage of the basic techniques, to which the boy possessed an incredible mastery of them in such a short time. Consequently, Oliver wasted no time coercing the boy into constructing and forging more tools and weapons, while he relegated himself to his decadent lifestyle, and he had been rewarded handsomely for the boy's efforts. However, over the last few years the constant abuse of his paunchy, overweight body by selfish self-indulgence had taken his toll, and with it, corrupted and converted his mind into one of jealousy, distrust, and loathing. And Oliver's target of derision was none other than his young apprentice. He secretly despised how effortless it had been for the boy to pick up his craft, and perform at an even better level and understanding than himself. His hatred continued to be compounded by prejudice, as the boy was nothing more than a common slave, of little reputation or regard. He drowned his frustrations via frequent visits to the many drinking establishments in Beaufort Royale, choosing to use that time to forget it all. It was not unusual then for the boy to find his master returning during the daytime to their smithy pummeled with the mixture of perspiration and liqueur on his foul-smelling breath. Oliver's level of resentment escalated to irrational outbursts, as he would often punish the boy by grabbing a wooden paddle and slamming/slapping it hard against the boy's body. Seizing the boy by his shoulders, Oliver would drunkenly berate the boy, then haphazardly fling the boy to the ground while he'd continue to beat him some more with the paddle. Each strike of the paddle would leave large, red whelps all over the boy's chest and arms, which soon turned into significant purplish-discolored bruises and bumps. After his little "session" with the boy, Oliver would retire to the adjacent room near the smithy, where he would summarily fall fast asleep. The souvenirs Oliver left on the boy's battered skin were a painful, persistent reminder which the boy silenced by delving into his work. The boy had completely finished molding and bending the hunting sword into its proper shape when he noted his master entering the blacksmith's area, stumbling unsteadily towards him, unkempt and with a liqueur bottle in his left hand. The boy barely flinched upon seeing his master, until he noticed that Oliver had his arm slung around an immaculately dressed soldier wearing a red and white silk frock coat, decorated with various commendations and matching white breeches, with a neatly trimmed Caesar-styled haircut, also accompanied by a long metal scabbard painted in red, holding the soldier's military sword. His attire was in stark contrast with the grimy appearance of his drunken master. Thomas also saw that the soldier's face was chiseled and stern, certainly one attractive enough to receive attention from many of the female residents living in Beaufort Royale. "You there!" called the soldier, as he caught a glimpse of the boy almost hidden in the dusty confines of the blacksmith shop. "Boy!" After a minute of silence the boy replied, hesitant. "M-Me, sir?" "Yes, you. Is this gentleman I am holding up right now your master?" asked the soldier. The boy was nervous and began to cough. He didn't have a cold, but it was just a nervous habit that he maintained whenever he was uncertain on how to respond to a situation. His master didn't help either, as he was too inebriated to elicit a response. "I asked you, slave," said the soldier in a more commanding manner, almost angry, "Do you know this man, or not?" The boy was fearful now, worried the soldier would retaliate, and was about to reply, when he was interrupted by a soft, silky enticing voice, "That's quite enough Lieutenant Ducard." The officer immediately placed Oliver onto an empty chair and looked towards the direction of the heavenly voice that just spoke. Quietly and gracefully walking into the blacksmith shop, was a vision of womanly loveliness. The boy was stunned - she looked to be perhaps in her mid to late thirties, a raven-haired, sensual being adorned in a lavish, intricate ivory white gown with light gold engeantes situated around her svelte arms. The gown was pleasingly exposed in front with a low- plunging neckline, accompanied by a bodice delicately laced with matching gold ruffles that seemed to fully accentuate the noblewoman's creamy white cleavage. The noblewoman seemed to almost glide into the shop, mostly in part due to the large occupancy of her gown as it brushed along the floor. Her black hair was perfectly attired, balanced high atop her angelic-looking face. Her right hand was holding an intricate, golden silk handkerchief, which was being used to mask her full-bodied, alluring lips as well as protect her from the dusty environment she was in. She soon sauntered into the shop to address the situation. "There is no need for that tone of voice in my presence," said the woman sternly. "It is very obvious that this boy is indeed the apprentice of Monsieur Oliver, my ahem...companion who accosted me earlier today," she remarked with a slight smile. The soldier nodded. "As you wish." He faced the woman directly before asking, "Will there be anything else you need from me then?" The woman responded in her pleasant singsong manner, "No Lieutenant, thank you very much. You have been most helpful. I shall take things from here." She waved her left hand, which was gloved in fashionable white silk, indicating to the officer that he was dismissed. "Very well then, I must return to my duties. Good day to you all," said the soldier, clicking his heels and politely bowing to her before exiting the blacksmith shop. The young boy felt slightly more at ease as the officer left, but was still a bit confused by the sudden presence of this angelic creature. He accidentally and clumsily dropped his small hammer on the ground, completely distracted by her elegance. "O-Oh!" he stammered. "I-I am s-sorry..." "My my, are you always this perturbed?" laughed the woman, sounding soft and flirtatious. She moved a little closer to him, as the boy heard the sonorous sounds of Oliver sitting unconscious on the wooden chair. "What is your name, lad?" "T-Thomas, Madame..." the boy uttered, looking down, still standing. The woman softly placed her smooth hand along the grimy surface of the boy's cheek; to him, the texture of her hand was like a piece of finely polished ivory, and it both surprised and comforted the boy, who was used to the heavy hand of Oliver's abusive drunken outbursts. "Thomas," she smiled again. "What a lovely name." Her head slowly looked forwards at the display of finished weaponry strewn and arranged in their individual scabbards and sheathes, as she moved closer to Thomas and leaned her torso forward, her bosom invitingly thrust in plain view for him to admire. Thomas made a little gasp, startled by the extreme vicinity of the noblewoman's body. He tilted his head, noting the delicate, supple shape of her milky white globes. He oddly saw something that was in rather stark contrast on the woman's chest: a small, 4-cm black tattoo etched onto her upper left breast in the shape of what appeared to be a snake, its body upright in the shape of an S. The woman looked down at Thomas, and lifted his chin upwards to face her. "Admiring my body are you now, Monsieur Thomas? Especially my bosom?" Thomas silently shook his head, even though his wandering eye betrayed his true intention. He felt both intimidated and intrigued by the confidence and charisma of this elegant noblewoman. The woman smiled, flattered at the modesty of this young man, as she pursed her lips. "So... your master made all of these...weapons? Did you have a hand in any of them?" she asked, pointing again to the incapacitated Oliver slumped in his chair. Thomas frowned a little. Even this gorgeous, angelic creature was still blind to his efforts, like so many other people. "Y-Yes ma'am, my master makes most of the weapons, while I serve to assist him." "Mmmm...I see," said the woman, leaning her body back. The woman glanced over at Oliver before returning her gaze back to Thomas. "Monsieur Thomas, would you be so kind as to do a favor for me?" Thomas felt comforted by the gentle lilt of the woman's soothing voice. "Y-Yes Madame?" The woman reached behind her back with both of her delicate hands. She suddenly retrieved a small, heavy crimson and gold box/container. As she opened the box, Thomas soon beheld a ornately designed, bronze hilt, its shape resembling two entwined snakes, their tails interlocking to form the pommel while their serpentine heads acted as cross-guards. The serpents' eyes were inlaid with small yet dark ruddy-colored ruby gems. Thomas couldn't help but be transfixed by this hilt, which was neatly set into the indentation. The only thing that appeared to be missing was a proper blade for the dagger/knife. "Beautiful isn't it?" said the woman, as she held the hilt gingerly with both of her delicate hands. Thomas silently acknowledged with a nod. "It's been in my...family possession for more than 100 years, it originally was part of a ceremonial dagger that was used during the 17th century." The woman suddenly passed on the box to Thomas, who unconsciously accepted it with both hands. "I am in need of your master's expertise, Monsieur Thomas. You see, the blade of this dagger is missing, and is in need of a replacement. I would like your master to forge the same blade that would fit in this box. Oh, and you're more than welcome to help him." Thomas nodded. "Y-Yes Madame. He certainly can do that for you. H-How soon would you need this complete?" The woman smiled at him, covering her delicate face with the golden silk handkerchief before replying, "By the stroke of ten this glorious evening." Thomas was a bit taken back by the unusual deadline. "S-stroke of ten?" The woman smiled. "Yes my boy, I need it by then. I am going to bestow it as part of a...gift...to someone. It is just now becoming mid-day, so will this be a problem?" "No Madame, not at all," quickly replied Thomas with a sincere glint in his dark brown eyes. "I can have it ready by then." "Very good," said the woman, leaning over to kiss Thomas's grimy cheek. "I knew that I found the right...person for this delicate task." Thomas blushed as he felt her warm lips plant their mark. The woman quietly adjusted her gown, flashing another pleasant smile at Thomas. "Well, I must be going now Monsieur Thomas. Please deliver the dagger personally to me by this evening. My home is located not too far from here - it is the large white plantation located south of the town square - Belle de Lune. My servants will be aware of your arrival, so there should not be any confusion." "Yes Madame, I will be punctual with your request, no worries," replied Thomas. The woman turned around and began slowly gliding her way towards the entrance. "Wait Madame," said Thomas, almost running to catch up with her. "I-I never learned of your name?" The raven-haired beauty turned her head back and winked, whispering to Thomas, "My name is Angelique...Angelique d' Beaufort." Thomas was stunned. "Oh my...Comtesse d' Beaufort?" "Oui, dear lad," said the comtesse with a sly grin. "Do not keep me waiting now with that dagger. Au revoir Monsieur." And with that, the woman exited the blacksmith shop, leaving Thomas a bit dumbfounded. Thomas quickly opened the box again, noting the dimensions of the indentation/carving that would make up the blade of the ceremonial dagger. He had never seen a hilt like that before in all of his limited years working as a blacksmith's apprentice. Closing the box up, he began to rub his chin thoughtfully. He was a bit saddened by the fact that the beautiful woman had asked his master to create the dagger, but being keenly aware of the prejudice and judgment that had befallen him, he was not completely shocked. Nevertheless, he knew Oliver would not make the deadline, especially in his current disheveled state. He had to please this woman, and to take matters into his own hands. *********** Angelique d' Beaufort quietly looked back at the blacksmith shop, being able to glimpse Thomas's rather pensive behavior. She then briefly looked around both sides of the street, as the coachman opened the small doors to her intricate carriage. Gracefully climbing in, she dabbed her cheeks with her golden handkerchief, before removing her white silk glove in her left hand. As she slowly removed the glove, a moderate humming sound could be heard, which was coming from an exquisite, simply decorated blackened metal ring shaped and looped like a menacing snake. Shiny diamonds were set into the eyes of the snake's head, and they were glowing an unusually bright yellow/golden color. The beautiful comtesse smiled, with a calculating look on her pretty face that was in stark contrast to her sincere and gentle demeanor back in the blacksmith shop. "Good for you my dear Monsieur Thomas," she whispered to herself, "good for you." She nodded quietly to her coachman, who closed the door as the carriage soon took off to her estate. Her hand delicately and repeatedly teased her blackened silver snake ring, as its eyes continued to emit that same ominous bright yellow light... About a few hours later, Thomas had completed the comtesse's request, having forged a perfect, flawless steel blade affixed to the ornate ceremonial hilt. It was perhaps the quickest he had ever spent forging a blade, thankfully it was one that would be small and handheld. The blade's shape, length, and width matched the red velvet indentation in the interior of the carrying case/box. Oliver had instructed Thomas in the past on honing and shaping raw steel, and that was one of Thomas's strengths as a fledgling blacksmith. The blade measured exactly 6 inches in length and was 1 ? inches wide. Thomas had beveled and molded the blade, before tempering it in the forge, making sure it was sharp and resilient to any outside force. He held the elaborate piece of weaponry with both hands, rather proud at his successful merging of blade and hilt. He only hoped the comtesse would approve when he delivered the dagger personally to her later that evening. Thomas looked at the clock hanging on the dusty wall of the shop; it was only five o'clock. Placing it carefully into the box, Thomas had the dagger set gently within the box's interior, before he closed the box and retired to the back room to rest for an hour or so. He had been so immersed in creating the dagger that his body was exhausted. *********** Oliver scratched his scruffy, unkempt beard as he clutched the ornate box containing Thomas's completed dagger. He was quickly walking as fast as his slightly oversized breeches could carry him, adjusting his dark brown overcoat, as he weaved through the crowd of people hurrying themselves in the town square. When he had awoken from his drunken stupor, the first thing he saw was his talented apprentice's handiwork. Oliver grinned to himself - he remembered the lovely comtesse had mentioned about the dagger and her need for a proper blade to fit the hilt, and had seemed intrigued when Oliver boasted that he could create a fine blade befitting such a hilt. Of course, years of wasting away at his craft, due to his partaking of fine wine and women, had degenerated his skills to a point where he no longer could even temper a simple piece of steel. Thank God for that pathetic slave-boy, thought Oliver. He was already planning on forcing his apprentice to complete work on the dagger immediately, so he could surprise the lovely comtesse and make good on his word. But as soon as Oliver noticed the dagger, a sly smile appeared on his grizzled face, realizing that Thomas had already completed the task without him even mentioning it. Oliver had not seen any sign of Thomas, settling on the fact that he must be napping in the other room. Without any hesitation, he had grabbed the box, found his hat and overcoat, and quickly exited the blacksmith shop... Oliver continued to make his way past the outskirts of the city, heading upwards to the large stately white Beaufort plantation. He fumbled with his hands as he placed them inside his overcoat, before finally pulling out his copper-plated pocket watch. It was almost nine o'clock. The comtesse would have finished her supper and would perhaps welcome his unexpected appearance more, especially since he now had her beloved dagger in his possession. Oliver maintained his smug grin, as he soon reached the large steel gates of the plantation, which were coincidentally enough, half-open, allowing Oliver to slip inside. *********** Oliver's mouth was agape as he approached the impressive structure that made up the Beaufort estate known as Belle de Lune. The plantation was massive, its architecture made up of solid white columns, which supported two stories of rooms and windows, all of which were lit this evening. There was a full moon tonight, its luminescence shining on the plantation, which gave it an oddly calm and eerie hue. Stopping at the massive, ornate front door, Oliver located the pulley which was attached to the moderately-sized doorbell, and tugged on it. The doorbell made a simple clanging sound, signifying to the occupants that someone was at the door. A few minutes later, Oliver saw the front door open, as a young comely French servant girl appeared from the darkened hallway/foyer of the estate. "Bonsoir Monsieur," the woman said pleasantly. "How can I help you?" "Ah hello, my sweet!" Oliver greeted, flashing his best smile. The servant girl was rather repulsed by Oliver's foul stench, as she covered her mouth with a delicate white handkerchief. "I need to speak to Comtesse d'Beaufort on an urgent matter. Would she happen to be present this evening?" Oliver eyed the young woman, who was rather perturbed at the audacity of Oliver's words; he was taken back by her beauty: a delicate golden blonde flower with soft green eyes, wearing a light-blue cotton gown with a delicate white petticoat underneath. She couldn't have been but a year or two apart from the equally youthful-looking comtesse herself, and also possessed quite a lovely, appealing figure underneath her well-tailored gown. Due to the darkness of the room, she was carrying a golden candelabra, its bright light providing both warmth and direction. "O-Oui Monsieur, the comtesse is in." the servant girl nodded, but then shook her head. "However, she is preparing for a guest that will be arriving shortly and asked not to be disturbed..." Oliver did not back down. "Awww...well I really have to speak with her, I have something to give to her. Couldn't I just chat her for just a smidge, sweetheart?" "I'm sorry Monsieur but..." "It's alright Colette," chimed a melodious, breathy voice coming from inside. "I know this gentlemen. He may enter - bring him to the drawing room and I will see him." Colette turned her head and nodded, then looked to Oliver. "Oui Madame, understood. If you would follow me please Monsieur..." Oliver smiled as he enthusiastically entered the mansion, walking closely behind the servant girl... *********** Thomas yawned as he rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept for that long period of time in well, ever. He slowly stretched and pushed his body out of bed, although this was a reluctant decision, as Thomas had just spent the last few hours enjoying the most pleasant dream involving himself and the lovely Comtesse d'Beaufort . He had envisioned the two of them having a lovely picnic, relaxing in a quiet meadow, just shortly after they both had taken a beautiful afternoon stroll within the lush, peaceful trees. He was acting as the perfect gentleman, and she was thoroughly impressed with his sense of propriety, even if he was only relegated to the low socioeconomic status of a blacksmith's colored apprentice. Thomas suddenly heard the loud chiming of the clock on the wall: *CLANG!* *CLANG!* *CLANG!*...looking over, he gasped: it was ten o'clock in the evening, and he had overslept! Thomas quickly got out of bed, and ran over to the blacksmith shop to gather his coat and most importantly pick up the box containing his finished dagger. He shook his head in disbelief when he saw an empty space on the table where he placed the box/case. Thomas frantically began to search for it, looking everywhere, including the nearby bedroom, other tables, underneath the forge, etc. He began to be significantly perturbed, until he came to a realization: his master must have picked it up! Thomas was incensed - he did NOT want Oliver to take credit for his hard work. Grabbing his coat, Thomas raced out of the blacksmith shop, heading for the Beaufort plantation. He only hoped that he wasn't too late... *********** Oliver looked around the dimly lit drawing room he was currently standing in, holding the box/case containing the ceremonial snake dagger underneath his right arm. He continued to scratch his beard as he looked around. The drawing room was large and spacious, with a dark black themed design that was both attractive and mysterious. He saw an ornate, green velvet-patterned couch to which he helped himself to by sitting down, enjoying the soft feel of the fabric against his skin. Two matching black velvet chairs were situated around an ornate wooden table carved in an elongated oval shape. Oliver also identified a large decorated marble fireplace, which currently had been lit and was responsible for the dimly lit appearance of the room. The walls were adorned with various paintings inlaid into exquisite brass frames. Oliver could identify a smaller painting of the Comtesse, painted only a few years ago. Wearing a silk black and green gown, Angelique was posed sitting down, with a rather stern look on her face. On the opposite side of the wall, there stood a much larger painting, serving possibly as the main attraction - it was a painting of a richly dressed, sophisticated gentlemen, one of nobility, dressed in a dark navy blue overcoat. Underneath he had a dark red vest and his shoulders had dark red tassels on both sides. Complementing his look, the officer wore a pair of white breeches, and had on tall, leather, dark black boots which were measured up to the level of his knees. He had a slight smile on his face as he appeared to be posing proudly, with his left hand at his side in a relaxing manner, while the other had grasped his overcoat, tugging it in the middle. Oliver stood up from the couch, walking over to view the paintings more closely. As he continued to stare at them, he heard a pleasant sounding angelic voice behind him, "I see you are staring at that painting of my late husband, Monsieur." Oliver, startled by the voice behind him, turned around and came face to face with the Comtesse herself. Oliver could not believe his eyes - Angelique was lavishly attired in a beautiful silk crimson red nightgown with black lace ruffles around the neckline. The front of her nightgown was quite pleasing to the eye, as her bountiful chest swayed lightly underneath the sheer fabric of her black silk chemise. Inside the dimly lit room, Oliver could see a hint of Angelique's matching crimson red panties, with the same black ruffles as seen on her nightgown top. Her raven-black hair was stylishly let down in a graceful set of side-swept curls and contrasted very well with her smooth creamy lovely face; each strand collected gracefully against her svelte shoulders. Oliver's heart melted as he saw Angelique's dark, almost blood-red coated lips purse into a polite smile. Angelique was holding a small circular tin tray containing two double-knopped wine glasses and a bottle of red wine; the glasses had already been previously poured and contained about half of the ruddy-colored liquid. Oliver smiled and bowed to the Comtesse as she slowly walked over and placed the circular tin tray on the coffee table. "Good evening Madame...my goodness, don't you look beautiful this fine evenin'..." Angelique smiled back alluringly, flattered by Oliver's words. "Merci beaucoup, Monsieur." She curiously eyed her scruffy-looking, unexpected guest as she sat down in a nearby chair, intentionally crossing her long, smooth legs for him, as Oliver managed to sneak a tiny peek at her red and black panties as the fabric of her nightgown was naughtily lifted a half an inch upwards on her body. Letting her arm drape itself on the chair's armrest, her beautiful onyx-shaded eyes were focused on Oliver as she continued speaking, "Hmmm...my apologies. I was expecting someone else this evening..." Oliver was charmed by the Comtesse's gentle voice and countered with his own Southern-style firting. "Oh please Madame, I reckon such a lovely gal as yourself can't waste too much time on an ol' hound dog like me." Angelique nodded, and then suddenly noticed the box Oliver was carrying. "I see you have my box...where did you get it?" Oliver grinned as he presented the box in front of Angelique, slowly opening it to reveal the ornately designed ceremonial dagger, now adorned with a proper steel blade. "I wanted to surprise you, my dear. I kept my word, and completed the dagger, as I promised during our meeting earlier today." Angelique accepted the box, learning her torso forward, her creamy cleavage lustily exposed in front of Oliver's eyes. Oliver did notice a strange-appearing snake-shaped tattoo over her left upper chest, but paid no significant attention, his thoughts mostly guided by his libidinous nature. Angelique smiled as she lifted the dagger from the box: it was a work of art, lovingly crafted. She even noticed the polished metal of the hilt. "Ah oui...the dagger! It looks exquisite Monsieur. Surely you have outdone yourself, Monsieur Oliver. Bravo, mon ami!" Angelique gingerly placed the dagger back into the box and securely closed it. Oliver immediately picked up one of the filled wine glasses and chuckled. "I suppose this calls for a celebration of sorts, Madame?" Angelique again flashed a gentle smile, tilting her head, and lifting the other glass of wine. "Indeed Monsieur, you have certainly earned it, and that is why I prepared this little toast. She giggled as she raised her glass of wine. "To Monsieur Walter Oliver - one of the most wonderful blacksmiths in Beaufort Royale!" Oliver smirked and raised his glass to clink it against Angelique's. "Here here!" Oliver immediately lifted his head up and simultaneously let the warm red liquid flow into his mouth. As he tasted the wine, Oliver could identify its sweetened flavor but also a rather harsh, strong taste accompanying it. He also could taste an odd-textured liquid that was a bit thick. "Where did you get this wine?" asked Oliver. "Oh it is in my late husband's family Monsieur," replied Angelique, as she sipped her wine glass. "One of the finest Pinot noirs in France and it was made in 1834, which was a very good year. Do you happen to like it Monsieur?" She continued to look at Oliver, with a bit of mischief in her eyes... Oliver smiled as he nodded and continued to tip his full glass, downing the rest of the oddly tasting wine. "There's just something about a good wine that...t-that.....hmmm...sorry I'm starting to feel...a little....I can't keep my eyes..." Angelique continued to maintain her smile as she sipped her glass again. "Monsieur Oliver? Are you feeling alright?" she said, feigning concern. "I-I'm...getting..sleepy....W-What...what did you...do...ohhhhhhh..." Oliver suddenly dropped his wine glass and collapsed onto the couch, completely unconscious. A Cheshire cat-like grin appeared on Angelique's lovely face, similar to a cat that just ate the canary. She leaned her body back against the chair, as she slowly spread her legs apart. Lightly tugging on the soft fabric of her nightgown, she pulled back the sheer, lacy hem of the lengthened undergarment, exposing her dark red panties, which appeared rather damp and moist. Slipping her fingers underneath, she slowly tugged them downwards, as she let her red-polished fingers move closer; they slowly entered her wet pussy, which made Angelique shiver in ecstasy. Pulling her two fingers out, she raised both of them, now coated with her own sticky white pussy nectar; the smell of her inner juices was always intoxicating to Angelique. It was the same milky white juice that she had laced and mixed into Oliver's wine glass before he took his sip, and the reason he immediately passed out. She then dipped her two fingers into her own wine glass, eyeing the sticky white liquid collecting in a light swirl inside her glass. Quickly stirring the glass until the white liquid was near invisible, Angelique gulped down her drink, no longer being polite and elegant, and finished it with one big swallow, licking her blood-red coated lips in a wanton manner. Licking her fingers to savor the last remnants of her wine, Angelique displayed a rather perverted grin on her lovely face. It was almost too easy to trick that idiotic, lowlife blacksmith into coming here, and even easier to get him to drink her "wine." She knew that Oliver would not pass up the opportunity to steal Thomas's dagger and bring it over here, presenting it as his own work. What a complete fool; well, no matter, Angelique thought, I must get this boor ready for when Thomas arrives. Angelique suddenly grabbed a small handheld bell and lightly shook it, making it ring. Within a few minutes, the lovely servant girl Colette had quietly entered and stood by her Comtesse's side. She looked down at Angelique, and then suddenly said in a deep, cultured, baritone-sounding voice incongruous with her petite body, "Yes Mistress Angelique?" "The job is done, Henri. Monsieur Oliver will be passed out for only an hour, so I need you to take him to the kitchen and keep him there till he wakes up. When he does he will be my puppet, so lead him back then into the drawing room. I must now get ready for Monsieur Thomas's arrival, so if you need me I will be in my boudoir getting ready." replied Angelique, now speaking with a very deep, very menacing gruff baritone that was much more frightening than the masculine voice coming from Colette's lips. "As you wish Mistress," replied the manly-sounding Colette. She immediately tugged on the arms of the unconscious Oliver and slung his heavy body over her backside, causing her to hunch forward a little as Oliver's arms were laying across. "Oh and Henri, Monsieur Thomas will probably arrive before I am completely ready. Please change out of your servant clothes and wear something a bit more...enticing for the ceremony, if you know what I mean..." said Angelique, letting out a menacing, seductive deep chuckle. "Is she still quite hidden?" "Oui my beloved Mistress," replied Henri/Colette, lowering her head politely. "Monsieur Thomas will not be able to see her until after the ceremony, when we bring her to him." "Very good," smiled Angelique with a fiendish glint in her onyx-colored eyes. "Inform me when Monsieur Thomas has arrived and guide him again to the drawing room. I shall be in my boudoir," the wicked comtesse stated, lightly teasing her luxuriously long curly raven-colored tresses. "Oui my Comtesse," replied Colette, now playfully switching to her innocent girlish French accent, trying to stifle a feminine-sounding giggle while her eyes quickly and idly wandered to look at Angelique's scantily clad nightgown. Still managing to maintain an impressive amount of brute strength, the false servant girl carried Oliver's portly, unconscious body to the kitchen while Angelique quickly cleaned up the tin tray of red wine and readjusted her undergarments, making sure she didn't make too early a mess before Thomas's arrival. She was looking forward to having some 'playtime' with the pathetic Monsieur Oliver, and she couldn't wait to see Thomas's face, as she had big plans for him. Angelique let a boisterously evil chuckle escape her luscious, blood-red lips, as she too sauntered upstairs, swaying her shapely hips, preparing for the next phase in her plan... *********** Thomas had scurried as fast as he could, knowing that he was already very late to his appointment with the Comtesse. Yet it still took him a while to reach the Beaufort plantation/estate. He quickly pushed his way through the estate's iron gates, quickly striding all the way up to the front door. Thomas's breathing was labored after basically sprinting his way to Belle de Lune. He silently cursed himself: how could he have been so careless to leave the ceremonial dagger exposed and in plain sight! Even someone less crafty than his master could have pilfered the dagger. Thomas located the pulley and tugged on it fully, as the doorbell made a very loud, abrupt, aggressive sound. As he waited for someone to answer, Thomas continued to muddle through his hurried thoughts. Now that Oliver had the dagger, Thomas almost certain that he had already presented it as a gift to Angelique, and would steal all of the credit. He could only hope that the Comtesse would be willing to forgive his carelessness... The front door soon opened, as a lovely young woman appeared to greet Thomas, almost emerging from the darkened foyer. "Bonsoir Monsieur," she said in a very pleasant, friendly tone; she was holding a lit candelabra. "U-Um, hi..." said Thomas, a bit surprised. He was stunned at the ravishingly beautiful woman with golden blonde hair, dressed in a sheer, silk and lace sleeveless pink chemise with a hemline that was also of an intricate pink laced pattern, reaching up to the woman's upper thighs. The front of her chemise was partially see-through, as Thomas could see a gathering of whitish-pink dots making up the pattern which barely concealed her smooth, flat stomach. She placed a delicate hand on her shapely hips, as Thomas noted a gentle rise in her cleavage - a fully supported, pert bosom was contained inside the blonde woman's chemise. She had soft green eyes and full, pouty lips which curled into a lovely smile, and her demeanor was oddly welcoming to Thomas. Her hair was arranged in an attractive, relaxed manner, with soft honey-blonde shoulder-length curls. She certainly seemed to exude more confidence and mystique compared to her earlier ruse as a servant girl. "Bonsoir," repeated the blonde woman. "You must be Monsieur Thomas, n'est -ce pas?" "Y-Yeah, that's me," replied Thomas, trying to stifle a cough, quite nervous. The blonde woman offered her delicate hand in front of Thomas. "I have heard so much about you from the Comtesse. My name is Colette; I am her...companion, shall we say?" she giggled, blushing a little. Thomas reluctantly accepted the woman's hand and bent his head down to kiss it, before the woman slowly retracted her hand, blushing. "My my, aren't you a polite gentleman!" smiled Colette. "I am certainly quite impressed." "Forgive me, Mademoiselle Colette, but..I-I need to s-speak with the Comtesse. Is she..." "Yes yes...she already notified me of your arrival," Colette interrupted, twirling her curly blonde locks idly. "Come on inside and I will take you to her." Thomas nodded and quietly followed Colette, entering the stately plantation... *********** The foyer of the mansion was dimly lit, much like the drawing room and all other rooms of the plantation. Thomas was uncertain if the Comtesse preferred to keep her wonderfully lavish home minimally lit at night. Colette smiled at him again as she motioned him to sit down at a nearby small wooden table situated at the foyer entrance. "If you'll wait here, Monsieur Thomas, the Comtesse will be down shortly. She is just...freshening up. I need to take care of some things in our drawing room," said Colette. "Ah I see," replied Thomas, nodding. "Very well, I will wait...thank you C-Colette for your hospitality." Colette soon opened the large doors which led to the black drawing room, as Thomas watched her glide gracefully disappear into the darkness. Thomas could not see Colette using her candelabra to light the other candles within the drawing room, only. About fifteen minutes had soon passed, and Thomas was getting impatient. He was still nervous about what Angelique would say when he admitted that he had stupidly misplaced the dagger. His grimy palms had become sweaty, and he shook his right knee, fearing the worst. Finally, he decided he could not stay seated, and got up, heading towards the lit drawing room, hoping he could keep Colette company. The entire drawing room was a bit more illuminated as Thomas could make out the main points of interest in the room, namely the ornate paintings of Angelique and her husband, the large, spacious black couch and matching chairs, and a fireplace and mantle that did not appear to be in use at the time. He looked around closely but Colette was nowhere to be found. She must have left earlier to speak to the Comtesse, thought Thomas, still shaking a bit. Thomas continued to stare at all of the luxurious surroundings, taking particular notice to a closet door that was somewhat open. He wondered if Colette had forgotten to close it in her haste to tidy things up in the drawing room. Colette had a lewd-appearing grin on her face as she walked up the winding set of stairs inside the dark narrow corridor leading to Angelique's boudoir, using her candelabra as a guiding light. As instructed by Angelique, before exiting the drawing room through the secret passage, she intentionally left the closet door open so as to provide a perfect "hiding spot" for Thomas. Finally reaching the secret door, Carefully pushing them forward to open them completely, she entered the equally darkened master bedroom, lit too only by multiple candlelights. Angelique was standing in front of a large vanity, having applied a second coat of blood-red lipstick. She also had just wrapped herself in a large, flowing velvet black cloak with a unique yellow serpentine-like trim on the edges. She quickly lifted the top of the cloak, covering her head with a black hood which concealed her blackened eyes. "Monsieur Thomas is here, my Mistress," said Colette gruffly in the same cultured baritone voice as heard earlier. Angelique grinned wickedly, very pleased with her companion. "Excellent. You have done well. I shall bring Monsieur Oliver back to the drawing room through the secret entrance from the kitchen. If I am correct Monsieur Thomas will most likely wander his way to the drawing room. Eventually he will be seeking that hiding spot I instructed you to 'accidentally' reveal to him," Angelique chuckled in her deep, rumbling baritone timbre. "Indeed my Mistress," nodded Colette in complete agreement. She tilted her head thoughtfully and asked, "What of Lieutenant Ducard?" Angelique lifted her head slowly while quietly buttoning her cloak, concealing her luscious body save for a peek of her magnificent creamy white cleavage, the lovely sight causing her to lightly lick her lips. "I already paid a little visit to his military base right after I had finished meeting with Monsieur Thomas," replied Angelique calmly in her deep baritone voice. "His military discipline was neither a challenge nor a match for me...he has been given his instructions and he will show up at the exact time I requested." Angelique soon took the decorative box containing the dagger carefully with both hands, handing it to Colette. "Do NOT lose this box or I will be most displeased with you Henri," she growled sternly, her voice booming threateningly. "I shall ring for you when I am with Monsieur Oliver and ready, understood?" "O-Oui, my Mistress," replied Colette, penitently lowering her head, unable to look Angelique in the eye, her oddly masculine voice trembling a bit as she did not dare disobey Angelique. She accepted the box and clutched its surface tightly with both hands. Angelique's cold glare turned to a smile as she gently stroked Colette's cheek in a calm and reassuring manner with the back of her soft hand. "Do not forget to change into your cloak as well before you enter the drawing room. And now, I must tend to Monsieur Oliver in my own, 'unique' way..." Angelique grabbed one of the candelabras in her boudoir and then sauntered over to the entrance to the secret passage, sliding the false wall forward so that she may gain access, as she disappeared into the darkened corridor. Colette lightly opened the box, and saw the magnificent ceremonial snake-themed dagger resting gently in the box's velvet red interior. Closing the box securely, she quickly exited the boudoir, heading to her own well-furnished bedroom to further change for the ceremony... *********** Thomas was staring at the exquisite paintings in the drawing room, paying particular attention to the portrait of the Comte himself dressed in the dashing military uniform. Thomas was both impressed and intimidated by the stature of that man. He remembered that this nobleman was responsible for separating his family, as his parents were both sent to work for his plantation. He never knew what happened to them afterwards; rumors had spread before that they were unhappy and had decided to escape, essentially abandoning Thomas to live under the abusive hand of his new master. Another rumor was that the Comte caught them and had his overseer tie them to a post and deliver one-hundred lashes each, which eventually ended up being the cause of their deaths. Thomas tried to block out the horrible memories of his separation from his parents as he continued to study the Comte's portrait. Thomas was completely focused when he suddenly heard a loud rumble coming from the opposite wall of the drawing room. He was uncertain what was going on, so he decided to investigate further. As he approached the wall, it suddenly began to slowly slide open, and the sound of footsteps heading in his direction. Thomas jumped a few feet, gasping - he knew he wasn't supposed to be in this room, but he also needed to find a place to hide. Thomas never knew that there were secret doors and walls in this plantation, and he didn't want to be present to find out who or what could be coming from this particular wall. Immediately spotting the partially open closet door, he quietly sprinted over to the closet entrance and closed the door, but leaving a small gap so he could at least see what was going on. An elegant cloaked figure soon emerged from the wall, holding hands with what appeared to be Thomas's master, Oliver Walters. Judging by the height and vague appearance, Thomas surmised that it was most likely a female underneath the cloak. She appeared to be holding a candelabrum and was leading Oliver over to the large green drawing room couch on the other side of the wall. Oliver had a very strange, blank look in his face, and Thomas noticed his master appearing very glassy-eyed, devoid of much emotion. Oliver sat down quietly on one side of the couch as the cloaked figure sat on the opposite side while setting the candelabra down. Thomas could glimpse a hint of the cloaked figure's smooth upper leg peeking from underneath the large black velvet cloak, but was still uncertain as to her identity. The cloaked figure soon raised her arm and wrapped it around Oliver's neck, pulling him closer as she whispered in a purring, seductive tone, "Mmmmm...Monsieur Oliver, are you entranced by my sensual body and frame?" Oliver uttered a monotone response that was drone-like and unsettling, "Yesssss...Yessss Madame..." Thomas's eyes widened as he heard the figure's voice. He recognized it as none other than the Comtesse herself! But what was she doing with Oliver, and why was she wearing that strange looking cloak? "Very good Monsieur Oliver," continued Angelique, still completely cloaked. She soon slowly reached over to unfasten each button of her dark velvet black ceremonial cloak. Thomas bit his tongue as each button came undone, exposing Angelique's creamy white flesh little by little. Still obscured by the heaviness of the cloak, Thomas was still lucky enough to glimpse at Angelique's smooth torso and well-toned stomach, along with the underlying lower curvature of her magnificent chest. Angelique soon leaned herself back as she guided Oliver's body to climb on top of her own, both bodies occupying the full length of the couch. "Kiss me Monsieur Oliver," commanded Angelique. Nodding, Oliver wasted no time and began kissing her full, blood-red lips, slipping his tongue while Angelique's elegant arms wrapped around Oliver's backside. Thomas could hear Oliver's gruff, lascivious moans mixed with Angelique's own breathy reactions. He could not believe the spectacle he was witnessing, and felt a bit betrayed. He was almost tempted to exit from his hiding spot, but something in the back of his mind compelled him to stay where he was and continue watching. "Mmmm....my word Monsieur Oliver," said Angelique, breathing a bit heavy. "Pleasure my body right now." " Yesss...Madame," replied Oliver in a monotone voice, as he began planting his tongue all over her smooth neck, his hands wandering over to slip underneath Angelique's cloak, fumbling till they found her taut, sensitive pink nipples. He began to rub his large, grimy fingers along her areolae, pinching and squeezing her nipples back and forth, which made Angelique cry out and bite her lower lip softly. She immediately lowered her hood, fully revealing her beautiful face. Thomas could make out Angelique's creamy, pale white visage as well as her hauntingly beautiful onyx-colored eyes. She immediately closed them, leaning her head back, continuing to react and moan to Oliver's touch. Thomas began to feel a slow rise in his crotch but this stopped abruptly when Angelique's eyes opened. Thomas was shocked to see that her irises had turned a bright yellow, and her pupils had become distorted into two very sharp, black slits. Thomas could hear a loud hissing sound, sounding very much like a snake, as Angelique quickly blinked, her eyes returning to their normal shape and color. "Sacrebleu! Monsieur Oliver you actually impress me a little tonight," Angelique cried, as she slowly began to peel her body off of the cloak. Within minutes Angelique's appealing and completely naked body was on full display. Thomas shook his head in disbelief: Angelique truly was an "angel". Her smooth, creamy pale white skin perfectly suited her luscious 5'8" frame, but the smoothness of said skin completely was incongruous with Angelique's reported age of 38 years; there were no signs of wrinkles, crow's feet, laugh lines, or extraneous "meat" in her thighs and shapely ass. Her curves were in fact quite enticing, as her body resembled that of a young girl. Thomas had already been stimulated by Angelique's lovely chest during her earlier visit, he was completely flabbergasted at the large set of 38DD breasts she now possessed, which exhibited no sag, completely buoyant, her nipples puffy and excited at all the sensations she was receiving from Oliver's moist tongue. Thomas noted her svelte waist, undoubtedly a curvaceous shape with widened hips, which must have been molded and shaped by the many tight-fitting corsets Angelique had to wear in public while on her outings to the town square. Angelique quietly crossed her luxuriously long and supple legs, her bare feet painted with a matching blood-red nail polish. She shifted her entire body, leaning back in a forty-five degree angle, her strands of soft, wavy, raven-colored hair collecting in a gentle arrangement against her left shoulder, as she continued to savor the kiss. Thomas's glimpse of Angelique's completely nude body brought back the rise in his crotch again, as it began to slowly move upwards, causing a bit of discomfort. Angelique turned to Oliver, tilting her head and nibbling on his ear as she whispered, "You would do anything for me, right Monsieur?" With no hesitation Oliver mechanically replied, "Yessss Madame. I am yours to command." "Good...then I want you to lick my pretty pink pussy," commanded Angelique. Nodding, Oliver began to spread Angelique's legs, pulling them gently apart, revealing her neatly trimmed dark pubic region as well, as well as the wet and pink womanly flesh Angelique possessed, her "crowning glory." Oliver hungrily complied, leaving Angelique's body, giving her generous, ample breasts more room to heave and sway invitingly, as he kneeled on both knees and began to lightly tease Angelique's outer labia with an expert tongue. Angelique let her left hand delicately trace a gentle outline around her left nipple, as her body tensed up. She closed her eyes, letting out a breathy cry of joy, "OOHHHHHH...Oui, that's it Monsieur, just like that...don't forget my tight clit needs some attention too..." Without missing a beat Oliver's two fingers and thumb located Angelique's round, tender clit, and began to tickle and wiggle it back and forth, sending significant shivers down Angelique's spine erotically. Oliver added the tip of his tongue as it too wiggled and brushed against Angelique's sensitive clit. Still within the confines of the closet, Thomas's erection was beginning to build even more, watching Oliver's fingers and tongue rhythmically stimulate Angelique's womanhood...rubbing faster...and faster...with Angelique moaning louder and louder. Suddenly, the drawing room doors swung wide open, and another figure entered, walking in front of Oliver and Angelique. Although it still was difficult to distinguish, the clicking heel of his boots as well as his height made Thomas realize that it was Lieutenant Ducard, the officer who had brought Oliver back to the blacksmith shop earlier today. But what was he doing here? "My goodness Madame!" exclaimed Lieutenant Ducard, his face showing a concerned, righteous, expression. "W-What is g-going on h-here? H-Have you gone m-mad?" Angelique was visibly startled by the sudden appearance of the lieutenant. However, that same fear turned to a smug, twisted countenance as she replied, "Right on time Lieutenant. Come join us." She offered her hand to him as her other hand lifted a hefty, supple breast upwards, exposing it to the dashing young lieutenant. Thomas watched the officer's stern look fade away, changing to a perverse smirk unbefitting a military person, as Lieutenant Ducard quickly undid his officer's coat, and removed his hat. He unfastened the belt containing his equipment and sword, and then kneeled over to Angelique's side. Angelique smiled, as her left hand placed itself on the back of Ducard's head, guiding it closer to her exposed, titillating left breast. Cupping it with both of his hands, Ducard's tongue proceeded to lick and suck on Angelique's left erect nipple, almost as if he was being nursed by it. Angelique closed her eyes again and leaned back, completely enjoying the pleasure provided by her hypnotized male drones. Thomas felt a mixture of weird emotions, something he had never felt before. He could start to feel his bulge worsen into a prominent tent, which pushed its way against his crotch. Nevertheless, despite the discomfort he was experiencing he continued to maintain his composure. However, nothing could have prepared him for what happened next... The double stimulation Angelique was experiencing from Oliver and Lieutenant Ducard was too much to bear. She closed her eyes, lifting her head back, as her fingers gripped the surface of the couch tightly. She cried out loudly, "Fucccckkkkk...I'm gonna cum really soon!" All of her cultured French accent she had assumed in public could not be detected. Her high-pitched cries synchronized with each tease of her pussy and her breast, but Thomas was dumbfounded as those cries quickly became lower and lower in pitch, dropping several octaves to a weirdly deep, gruff baritone voice. Angelique's new voice was frightening to Thomas, sounding monstrous and inhuman, and it was complemented by a return of her menacingly evil slit eyes. "SSSSSHHHHHHHHIIIIIITTTTT...." Angelique growled loudly in her booming baritone, which ended with a terrifying hiss coming from her lips. "GOOOO SUCCKK MY COOOOCCCCKKKK" she commanded to Oliver and Lieutenant Ducard. Ducard stopped his suckling and obeyed, as he moved his body next to Oliver's, both men waiting for something to happen. Thomas was too, with baited breadth... Suddenly, Thomas was horrified to see a large, thick protrusion wiggle and push its way out of the opening to Angelique's moist vagina, forcing it to expand and widen in size to accommodate its forceful emergence. Thomas could also hear the grotesquely tight, squishy sounds it made during this process; it appeared mishapen and indefinite at first, but soon it elongated and sprouted into what Thomas recognized as a massive 8-inch dark-skinned cock, which was followed by a large pair of matching testicles. Her nutsack was in stark contrast to her luscious, feminine loveliness, and they were particularly moist from having been coated with Angelique's pussy juices while hidden. Angelique chuckled deeply, relieved that she was able to reveal her thick, juicy, pulsating member after having been forced to keep it hidden in public. Oliver and Lieutenant Ducard both licked their lips in anticipation. "DAMNNNNNITT.....YESSSSSSS....I LOVE IT WHEN I CAN SHOW OFF MY BIGG COOOCCCKKK" roared Angelique, smiling widely, and showing her perfectly white teeth. She looked at the two men, a fiendish glint in her slit- sized eyes. "WELLL...I'M WAITTTTINGGG...DON'T DISAPPPOINNTTT YOURR MISSTRESSSSSSS..." Both Oliver and Lieutenant Ducard began to flick their tongues against Angelique's thick shaft, as her fingers continued to fondle her large, supple breasts. Oliver was also gripping and squeezing Angelique's testicles firmly, kneading and massaging them back and forth, causing another ugly, menacing growl to emanate from Angelique's sweet red lips, as she shifted her hips back and forth, now completely leaning her entire body against the couch. Thomas could see the tip of her terrifyingly large, throbbing cock as the visible spiderweb-like veins around it pulsated wildly. It appeared to be almost moving independently with the rest of Angelique's body, as it wriggled and moved and grew slightly larger in size with each throbbing motion. The two male drones continued to provide their undivided attention, attempting to satiate and abate its hunger. Ducard soon brought his lips closer to Angelique's shaft, wrapping them fully around and lightly sucking the head, sending a flood of warm, twisted sensations all the way down the full length of Angelique's manmeat, spreading out down into her scrotum. He continued to lower his head, letting the entire shaft disappear into his mouth, surprisingly without a hint of gagging. He then bobbed his head back and forth, while stroking the base of Angelique's cock. With all of these complex and pleasurable actions, Angelique roared loudly, closing her eyes tightly, trying to resist the lewd sensations she was experiencing at the moment. Almost as if it wasn't a coincidence, Thomas was now having a REALLY hard time maintaining his own composure, transfixed by the viciously lustful scene taking place. He found himself breathing just about as heavily as Angelique's own labored breaths; slipping his fingers underneath his white breeches, Thomas began to unconsciously squeeze his own testicles, his fingers deftly teasing the base of his own stiff shaft. Meanwhile, Oliver's grubby, grimy hands had wrapped themselves around the base of Angelique's own stiff meat, performing a slow, methodical movement up and down, which further elicited a pleasurable baritone sounding moan from the twisted noblewoman. Angelique arched her back, trying to shift her full body weight, as her drones continued to relentlessly suck and engulf almost the entire length of her now 10-inch throbbing cock. Tears were beginning to form and come out of her eyes, her evil slit-shaped pupils shrinking and narrowing. Beads of sweat were forming and dribbling down her smooth cheeks. Her body was beginning to betray her previously calm, seductive appearance, as her breathing quickened. Thomas heard her growls and her snarling voice, which sounded strangely erotic but also very demonic. He continued to rub his own cock furiously as it gained more girth and elevation... "YESSSSSSSSS.....OH MY....YESSSSS...." Angelique loudly moaned, as she chuckled in her satisfyingly evil timbre. Her delicate left hand moved to accompany the tongues of her drones, whose slurping and sucking sounds were mixed with their own monotone, hypnotic sounding moans of pure unadulterated lust. Finally, Angelique could no longer contain herself, as her sexually stimulated body gave in to an intense, satisfyingly wicked orgasm. Within seconds, Oliver and Lieutenant Ducard felt Angelique's cock colliding roughly against their lips as she let out a bloodcurdling deep roar. "AHHHHHHHHHH...........FUCKKKKKKKK......TAKE IT...DRINK ALL OF MY SEED!!!!!" Immediately before Angelique's monstrous climax, a large glob of sticky, white liquid spurted forth from her erect shaft with such intense force through the narrow opening of Angelique's cock head, gushing out like a milky white fountain. The texture and smell was so pungent that even Thomas could sense it from inside the closet. Large sticky load after load of Angelique's cock juice seemed to rapidly and continuously shoot out, as Angelique's cock haphazardly spattered and coated Oliver's and Lieutenant Ducard's faces. The two drones lapped up every last drop dutifully, perverse grins appearing on their faces. Angelique's beautiful body was still shaking from her full orgasm, her bountiful breasts bobbing up and down and getting intermittently spattered by her own warm, sticky cum. Thomas's own breaking point had been reached, as he could not withstand the onslaught of sexual deviancy any further. He immediately cried out, "AHHHH..." almost simultaneously with Angelique's own decadent roaring, feeling his own warm, white sticky fluid spurt and gush out into his hand, which continued rubbing, creating a sticky layer all over his shaft. His crotch was completely soaked, and his knees began to buckle, weakened by the intensely erotic self-orgasm he had just executed. Angelique's ears perked as she could hear an audible moan coming from the closet, and immediately lowered the volume of her monstrous voice to a low grunt. Still sweating from the intense experience, she lifted her body back on the couch, as it had been almost slowly sliding off, had it not been supported by Oliver and Lieutenant Ducard's hands bracing her hips. She fingered a bit of her milky liquid, still slowly spurting and oozing from her thick cock, which had slowed down its throbbing, the liquid collecting in a white pool on the floor. Scooping a bit with two fingers, Angelique slowly licked and savored its sweet and salty taste, while she smirked and uttered, "Mmmmm...looks like we have an intruder, gentlemen...and it sounds like he enjoyed our little session almost as much as we did," she chuckled. "Alright Monsieur Thomas, you can come out now." Thomas froze, completely stunned. He gulped and opened the closet door, stepping out. Unable to look up due to sheer embarrassment, Thomas's hand was still buried inside his breeches, and there was a large, visible wet stain around his crotch. Angelique sat back up, shifting her voluptuous body, her cock beginning to lower as she raised one of her eyebrows amusingly and grinned. "Bonsoir Monsieur," she purred, in a much more calm yet oddly gruff sounding baritone compared to the monstrous roar she used earlier. "Did you enjoy our little..performance? Your..currently soaked crotch certainly, ahem, confirms it..." Thomas didn't know what to say at first. After a few minutes he finally managed to utter, "W-Who are you? A-Are y-you a-a demon? W-What have you done with the Comtesse?" Angelique crossed her long, smooth legs demurely, still completely naked, as she brushed back her long curly raven-haired locks. "Why Monsieur," she chimed, speaking in a soft, gentle lilt identical to the lovely angelic voice Thomas heard earlier today, "I AM the Comtesse." She flirtatiously giggled at Thomas while her finger idly and gracefully traced a circle around her supple breasts, as her soft laugh soon denigrated into a manly, deep chuckle which made Thomas's cock rise a little. "Just with more 'accoutrements', shall we say, HAHA!" she finished in that same gruff tone. Thomas was unnerved by the Comtesse's malevolent behavior - he knew he had to do something. He began to walk towards the exit the drawing room, intending to notify the governor. He had reached the double doors when Angelique said in her warm-sounding, charming masculi