Foie De La ViergeChapter 2
- 4 years ago
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I sighed.
I'd been asking Christine to undress since she'd first entered my cave and so her question was a redundant and irritating one. Of course, I wanted the woman to undress and I wanted to fuck her but that didn't mean that I wanted to eat her. How many times did I have to repeat that I don't like what I do?
I hated it.
Even so, I foresaw the possibility that I'd eventually be tricked into doing it because there's an inevitability to these things and despite not wanting to eat her, I'd be left with no choice, for let's face it, there was no way out, no happy ever after. If I did nothing, Christine would starve.
However, instead of reminding her of this and upsetting her, I covered my frustration by opening the nun's bodice and I found the corset inside and some laces and I felt compelled to play with them while Christine watched me, wide eyed, intent, frightened, her lips shaking as she tried to make sense of my actions.
She could see that the many sets of clothes had been arranged on the stones just as the owners would have worn them in life, and suddenly there was something that clicked in her head and she frowned. "Do you want to unfasten my dress?" she gasped. "Is that it? Is that next? Do you want me to take off my corset?"
I shrugged, upset and troubled, and I loosened the laces of the nun's corset. Again, as I felt her watching me a heavy, overwhelming wave of guilt pervaded me, for I couldn't imagine Christine living on the outside as a fugitive, hunted by the mob. Neither could I imagine her scavenging for maggots and vermin as I do, and I could feel again that sense of inevitability. I guess the Marquis must have sensed it too and concluded that I was the most practical solution. Maybe that was the thing: he'd passed the buck. That's why he'd suggested that Christine should come to see me, because it was better than the untenable alternatives. And maybe Christine did prefer to be fucked by me than face the vagaries and terror of the mob.
Even so, it didn't seem right that she should be making these plans and so when she took two more hesitant steps towards me I immediately stepped back. "Monsieur. This isn't a game," she croaked. "Tell me what to do! There are soldiers out there and they'll do terrible, unspeakable things when they find me. They'll come here, looking for me ... Maybe not now, but soon..."
"And they'll cut off your head," I muttered bitterly.
"Monsieur! This isn't a joke!"
"And it isn't intended that way." I griped, sullen and resentful. "It's true. They'll bake your flesh into tiny meat pies. They'll strip you of your clothes, baste your skin and roast you over a wood fire. You see, I don't run from such talk as you do because I know what I am, what I do. It displeases me and I loathe myself, but for better or worse, I'll always be the monster who ate the corpses of dead women."
Another small step, unconsciously and nervously done, and she slipped a button of her dress, high up, just below her chin. Then she refastened it, her eyes lowered. "You drive a hard bargain, monsieur. You want everything. I see it in your eyes. Not just my dress ... but my body ... my breasts..."
I said nothing, thinking of the oil running upon Christine's skin and her roasting upon an open fire as had happened to dear Isabelle, her naked body turning slowly on a long metal spit. I imagined them lowering her down and cutting her up and then turning her into a thousand meat pies and I turned up to the Gods in frustration and displeasure, erasing the thought from my mind.
But before it was gone, Christine shivered and a crack suddenly appeared in her voice. "Monsieur? Do you want me nude? I'll do it if I must, but you must tell me - ask me - because I am a lady, not yet a whore or your joint of meat, but I'll be either of those things if you ask me. I'm yours. You have only to ask..."
I could see a rat clambering up a stalagmite, using it as a staircase to a better, finer place. "That would be pleasant..." I agreed sarcastically. "As a start..."
"A start? You frighten me, monsieur. What more do you want? Please? Do you want me to touch your ... thing? Is that the next step?"
Christine was biting her lips, and in her head anticipating what she considered to be a loathsome, diabolical agreement. She accepted what she'd agreed to do it because she'd known that there was no alternative, but she was just eighteen years old and an innocent and she had no real idea what she'd agreed to. Her entire sexual experience was confined to the rapes and the horrors she'd witnessed outside, and as for the rest...
I smiled sadly.
"Very well, monsieur," she shivered. "I have no choice but to comply. I'll touch your penis." Her top button was now completely unfastened, and the rest of her was on offer, and so I waited, as she did, both of us expectant of the other.
And then, at last, she broke. She had youth and beauty on her side but she hadn't the patience. There was a wail, a howl and a cry. She dropped to her knees and melodramatically and tenderly grabbed my hand, and she was pleading with me to help her. "Please, monsieur! This isn't easy. I know that you're determined to screw me, so yes, you must screw me. I'll lie on my back and endure it. And if afterwards you're going to kill me, then yes, please kill me. If you're going to eat me, then do. I consent. I'll do whatever you ask. I comply, but please, don't betray me to the bandits outside. Help me! Tutor me! Show me what I must do!"
I didn't budge. Instead, I was imagining her lying on her back, wriggling with discomfort as I coated her skin with pig's fat with the aid of a coarse horsehair brush, teasing the grease inside her cracks. Then, with this done, all that remained was to coax a dry hickory fire into life.
I stroked the nun's tunic, angry at myself and annoyed at my weakness, consulting my conscience and it beat me for these thoughts. Christine also stared at me accusingly, and I felt her eyes searching my face, exploring my contours and my hard duplicitous features.
Not that I owned any pig's fat or hickory, or even a horsehair brush ... but I couldn't help but imagine them and her...
"Please, monsieur. You want my lips? My tongue? You want to kiss my mouth? Monsieur, I give them to you. You've got it! I give you my mouth! You'll eat every part of my body, and I'll suck your cock. I'll tease you and bring you to heaven! You want to tie me? Beat me? I'm here to be beaten ... and if it's not that, then what, monsieur? Please tell me. Guide me! Tell me what I must do! I have no idea because although Father explained the things men desire, what they do, I am a virgin. I've never done it. Certainly, I have seen those women being raped, whipped and plundered, and if that's what you want, I can do it. I know how to scream and to beg! I know how to crawl. I know how to open my legs. Is it my ass that you're after, monsieur? Then it's yours: absolutely and decidedly. Will you whip me? Then do it! But for anything else I need to be taught."
I shuddered with disgust as she spoke, baring my black, decaying teeth. Then I smirked tiredly, deciding that it was time to make my next move. "I don't want any of those things. I want something else," I said softly.
There was a bare uncontrolled exasperation about her now. Tears streamed down her face ruining her cheeks. Her powders and paints were spoiled. Her hair was wet and dirty. She groveled about on her knees, reaching into my trousers and searching inside for my cock. "I can do it," she insisted, frantic and desperate, finding my cock and hooking it out. "I can do whatever you desire, anything, however horrific, however obscene but please ... They're out there. I sense it and I've seen what they do. It takes days for a woman to die when they do it, and in such pain! I beg you, monsieur. Don't humiliate me that way!"
At this point, several memories merged and played games. They danced and they fought; and gradually they fused and combined. In the first, I saw a nun who had been brought from the prison by the Marquis and who'd been horribly tortured. She was still dressed, although only of a fashion, for her tattered habit clung to her body by instinct rather than design. Her once beautiful skin was bandaged with strokes emanating from three hubs that were her breasts, her stomach and her thighs. She'd...
My mind was dizzy and confused, and yet the mist and pain were gone. I found myself unexpectedly in the present, or was it the past? With a sense of d'j ... vu, I found that Christine was swaying in front of me, full of nervous expectation. "You're the daughter of the Marquis," I asserted blankly as if this would come as a surprise to her, which, of course, it didn't. For me, it was still an upsetting surprise although the more I looked at her, the more that I saw the likeness. I felt...
She fought back a tear, which she then wiped from the corner of her eye with a beautifully stitched silk handkerchief. "I am under no illusion as to what my fate will be here, monsieur. It will be awful, unthinkable, humiliating; but it is better than what awaits me outside." She blushed, playing with the cuffs on her dress. "I have to confess that in what awaits me you may find me na‹ve. While I have seen what a man does to a woman when he rapes her, that is the extent to my knowledge,...
But I wasn't thinking. I was reacting. Dear God, imagine it - after all these years, me, a humble peasant, about to fuck the daughter of the Marquis de Lyons! Raping her! Laying her down, tying her up and poking her holes! What a thought! But why not? Why shouldn't I do it? Shouldn't she pay for the atrocities of her father? Didn't she deserve to be punished? And maybe she'd like it. I took myself aside and calmed myself down. I took deep breaths. I shrugged, and when I came back, I...
Later, much later, I think, I found her by the pool, deep in thought and looking at the water. It seeps from the rocks and trickles across the limestone. It oozes from the walls and drips from the roof. From where it's come and to where it's going I have little idea, but it's everywhere. Many years ago, as a young man, I diverted its flow and created a body of water about ten feet across and nine inches deep. I told Christine to bathe in it, suggesting that a bath would help her to feel...
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Amy Bradsworth. That's who I am. I am now 13 years old. So, during our 'little trip' I lost my identity as almost 20 year old Mark, and I'm now a teenaged girl who's finishing 8th grade this week. I am almost getting sick just writing about it. I waited until this morning and then snuck over to my house about 8am and like I expected, no one was home. The fact that my key still worked sort of told me as I walked in that the professor's theory was correct, and that I still was a member...
Millie lay in the dark, unable to sleep. She had been tossing and turning for half an hour. Though she occupied a room which was just down the hall from that of her handsome young husband, she had never felt so lonely and forlorn. To make matters worse, she was tense with physical frustration. She kept seeing images of Pete's rigid prick. She kept feeling his hands upon her, and feeling Cal's hands, also. She recalled the thrust of Cal's excited organ as it had strained against her belly...
Billy looked out the train window at the two people who had been the central figures in his young life. The Baylors had been Father and Mother to him since he was born, and he felt a strange pang of emptiness in his heart as he watched them waving goodbye as the train started to move out of the station. Ethel and Bert Baylor were both crying, and tears formed in Billy's eyes as they disappeared from his view. But in a few moments he composed himself and turned his thoughts to the new life...
I woke to the sound of Ann puttering in the kitchen. Andrew was fast asleep. He might fuck like a man, but he still slept like a teenager. I knew I needed to talk to Ann. I put on a short robe and found her wearing skin tight shorts and a sports bra, ready for her morning jog. "Morning sleepy head. I was wondering when I'd see you. Wanna go for a run?"That sounded like a good idea. It would clear my head and be an opportunity to chat. I got my shorts, bra, and tee-shirt from my gym bag and...
Kristen Scott and stepfather Tommy Pistol have been sharing an idyllic love since beginning their sordid affair behind her mother’s back. Now they’re planning on running away together. But first, Tommy wants her to understand life won’t always be picnics and strawberries. Tonight he reveals his darker, more dominant side, betraying selfish motives. Just like she’s used to getting what she wants, at the mall from his bank account, he wants to fuck all of her holes with...
xmoviesforyou~~Antoinette~~ Three months later. She stared down at the corpse, and sighed. Sigh turned to frown. Frown turned into snarl. In her youth, she would have likely elevated to outright rage, and destroyed all in her vicinity. But she had long learned to control her anger, and she quelled it now as she stood, confused and frustrated. Blood seeped out over the lines of the ritual circle, over the dark tile, and around her feet. She stepped about it effortlessly as she motioned to Daniel. “It...
Aagmaal Fun is clearly aiming at a specific demographic with that title, because most masturbators the world over ain’t going to know exactly what they’re peddling without seeing the front page. Sites like Pornhub, Faphouse and my own PornDudeCasting give English-speakers a solid idea of what they’re going to get before they even load up the spot, but Aagmaal? Well, unless you’re from India, you might be in the dark on this one.Then again, some would argue the dark is one of the better places...
Indian Porn SitesDevin and I had moved out of the dorms and into a small, cheap house. His folks came down with some household supplies the weekend after we had moved.Devin was a groomsman in a friends wedding in Dallas that weekend, as well. Betty, Devin’s mom, was going, too. That would leave Don and me at the house most of Saturday and Sunday morning. Don and I had hooked a couple of times since our first encounter, and I was really looking forward to tangling with him again during this visit.After Devin...