Anthea s baby 1
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The Child MolestressChapter 3: Company free porn video
As we made our way back to the compartment we heard shouting and screaming, this time outside, and as we spotted an open window at the coach's end we peeped out and saw the tall official pick himself up out of the dust where he had fallen. He wasn't very successful however, since he had only half risen on his broken hands and damaged knee when he was struck and bowled over rather forcefully by his suitcase which was thrown after him from the train.
The girl giggled delightedly and quite cruelly at the fate of her former tormenter and said: "Now, I am free. I am not afraid anymore. I will go with you to see whether her Highness requires anything."
"Who is she?" I asked, since I just now realised that we had never introduced ourselves and she always called me little boy or dear boy.
When she realised I didn't know she became quite unsure of herself.
"Maybe it is not for me to tell. I thought you must be a relative since you are travelling with her. Although I must say, the state of your clothing gives me different ideas. Who are you?"
Well, if everybody liked to be snotty and aloof, so could I be. "Just a little boy, surely. Not worth talking about or, even, talking to! And, yes, my family is very poor. She, her Highness, let me ride in her coach since I couldn't find a seat on the train."
The girl was contrite immediately. "Please. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I have no parents left and am as poor as you are. Surely, we should stick together, especially since I do not know what will happen to me after we reach Rome."
Not quite mollified but unwilling to squibble I took her back to the compartment.
Her Highness was quite intrigued to hear our story and when the girl told her how I treated her "uncle" she smiled brightly and said to me: "You know, you were rather reckless. He could have hurt you badly, but it's good to know that gentlemanly behaviour is still alive in Germany."
She turned towards the girl and told her to go into the bathroom, wash her face and comb her hair, smilingly patting her on the arm as she went past. She looked at me pensively as if turning over a big problem in her mind. But she didn't say anything further until the girl returned from the bathroom. We could see that she had made good use of her chance to clean herself. Not only was her face scrubbed but her throat and arms shone from having undergone the same strong treatment and her hair gleamed from brushing vigourously. The lady bade her sit down at her side and wanted to hear her story since it was obvious that something very fishy was going on here. The man, not her uncle of course, and only recently seconded to her Highness, had found her in Hamburg seeking shelter in some ruins near the harbour, quite dirty, scared and extremely hungry. When he approached her he appeared to be kind, offering food and a warm place to stay and so she went with him. He sneaked her aboard the luxury coach, told everybody that she was his niece and made her work in the kitchen and helping him with his duties. However, when he went to sleep she had to sleep next to him and was told to behave or else. He fondled her quite cruelly, rubbing her slender body with his coarse hands, pushing his fingers between her legs (here she glanced hesitatingly at the lady and at myself, obviously unsure whether she should carry on, but continuing after receiving a nod from the lady). He did nothing further than fingering her but asked her, told her, to fondle him between his legs and even tried to make her push a finger into his rectum.
"But," she told us. "He had nothing but scars between his legs and I didn't understand what he wanted of me. In the end he hit me quite hard against the side of my head, told me that I was a stupid cow for not knowing what to do and ungrateful on top. He forced me to kiss and lick him, kept pawing me and eventually hit me again and threw me out of his bed, telling me to sleep on the floor, since I was totally useless and had no right to be in his bed."
"Well now," the lady said softly. "This is all over for you. You are welcome to travel with us and I will look after you. I am certain we shall be able to work out something once we are in Rome. Tell me, young lady, have you had breakfast yet?"
The girl blushed furiously, as a belly rumble answered this question for her. Just then a young man, dressed in railway garbs knocked on the door. After entering, he declared himself to be the new steward for the remainder of the journey and asked whether he could be of service.
"Well now, young man, you can take this young lady to the kitchen and have her eat breakfast. After that, she can come back here."
"Certainly, your Highness."
And to the girl. "Come with me. We will all have breakfast together once the train leaves Munich." With that, they stepped out, the girl looking back towards us and giving us a fleeting smile.
"You don't mind if the girl joins us for the remainder of the journey, do you?" the lady asked me.
"No, madam, certainly not. She looks quite nice and I am sure that she will enjoy being rid of that horrible man. Maybe she should be able to enjoy pleasantness for a change. And I am sure that she will be grateful to you, just as much as I am."
"Oh, you dear boy. Yes, I am quite sure that we will have a good time together."
We sat in companionable silence together, looking out of the windows and enjoying the view towards the alps, snow clad in the distance. Strange that the lady didn't seem to invite conversation. And stranger still that she hadn't even asked for my name...
Towards noon we stopped at the border to Austria. American soldiers together with a few German and Austrian border police entered the train and proceded to check all passengers and even removed some unfortunate souls forcibly. No one, however, bothered her Highness, but quite a few inquisitive faces looked into the compartment. She remained aloof throughout the time we were waiting, ringing the bell for coffee and tea to be served. The girl brought in a trolley laden with scones and butter, pretzels, marmalade and honey, cold meats and cheeses. Paradise once more.
However, when the girl tried to leave after arranging everything, the lady scolded her in a friendly way. "No, dear, you will have to set the table properly. You will join us, of course."
The girl blushed prettily and fixed a setting for herself. Talk about hungry. She had excellent table manners but made extremely short shrift of whatever her Highness passed on to her. I really had to keep my wits about me to avoid being short-changed on anything. But eventually we were all sated to completion. Without prompting the girl cleared the table, putting everything on the trolley again.
"There is no need for you to work in the kitchen, dear. Come back to us till lunchtime," the lady told her and the girl nodded happily.
Before much longer, the train started moving again. Soon after, the girl came back. To my great surprise, the lady started talking with the girl, asking questions about her, where she hailed from, about her parents, brothers, sisters and more — all this David Copperfield kind of crap, as Salinger phrased it so succinctly — everything that is, except her name, and the girl answered haltingly, needing prompting ever so often and crying now and then, when the memories became too much for her. She was 13 years old. She hailed from Königsberg and lost her parents on the trek towards mainland Germany, when their column of refugees was attacked by Russian planes. This happened well within Poland and from then on she was on her own. Slogging stubbornly through the snow and mud in that dismal country, helping others, mainly elderly people, scrounching a little food for her efforts here and there and, once, even taking a coat and shoes from a dead child about her age. When she told that, she broke down crying bitterly once more, overcome by grief for the unknown girl.
"Hush now, dear child, come here. Everything will be all right now."
And with those kind words, the lady gathered her in her arms and held her close. We all became very quiet, the silence only broken by stifled sobs which faded after a while. All the time the lady was stroking the girl's back gently, murmuring nonsense sounds to her. At first I thought my imagination was playing me tricks, as I thought the strokes were getting longer, getting forever closer to the girl's little bottom, but, looking at the pair from under my half-closed lids, I saw that not only did she dwell quite long at her lower back but also that she stroked over the girl's stocking-less thighs quite frequently, rubbing ever so softly and sometimes even letting her hand get under the girl's skirt. Her Highness looked up and caught my eye, nodded towards the door, and, with her left hand, made a sliding and turning motion. Gathering that she wanted the curtains closed and the door locked, I got up and did the necessary. When I went back to my seat she reached out for me and drew me onto the bench next to her.
"Sit here, close to us. In these sorrowful times, we must care for each other," she murmured softly, pulling me against her.
The girl watched silently and didn't protest when the lady lifted up her legs and made her stretch out across both of us, her legs now resting on top of my thighs. But apparently, this wasn't ideal either because the lady bade the girl to remove her threadbare cardigan, pointing out that the compartment was warm enough. Eventually we were all arranged to her satisfaction and she continued her ministrations, holding the girl in the crook of her left arm and using her right hand to caress and fondle, her hand now travelling all over the girl: from her face and ears to her shoulders, over her arms and even her tiny budding breasts to her abdomen and thighs. When she saw me watching, she took my left hand, laid it on the girl's leg and told me to share in the caresses. Hesitatingly, I started to stroke with a very light touch, not moving much, my hand gliding along on the outside of her legs, back and forth. The lady continued her efforts, even kissing the girl now and then and it became quite clear that the girl didn't remain unaffected by our attentions. I could, through her thin blouse, see her nipples quite clearly, since she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Whilst I was quite captivated by this little scene, I suddenly realised that my little diddle was very hard again and I longed to enjoy that very good feeling from the past night once more. Her Highness also seemed to be similarly affected, since she opened her bodice and drew the girl even closer to her bosom. Her right hand kept forever roaming over the young body, now quite openly massaging over breasts and tummy, then moving towards the junction of the girl's thighs with a purpose. Her breathing became a little ragged, almost in sync with the girl who had started to squirm in her arms, moving, twisting, turning and thereby opening her legs, so that I could see her panties "right up there". Suddenly the girl grabbed my hand and put it between her legs and I understood that she wanted to be rubbed there. I pushed her panties aside and set to stroking the small slit with a vengeance, even inserted a finger between the slightly downy lips and kept it there, wriggling like a tadpole, while my thumb hunted for and found her little button for rubbing.
"Yes," the lady whispered. "Let us all be good to each other!"
Jane
- 28.07.2022
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