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 ½ 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 masculine timbre, “Heading to see the governor are we Monsieur?” Thomas stopped midway, unable to move. “Go right ahead…interrupt him at this late hour. Then bring him over here. When he arrives all he would see would be the lovely young Comtesse entertaining some guests this evening, including your master, and Lieutenant Ducard. Who would he believe then: me or some common, useless...‘slave boy’? Then you would be flogged and possibly drawn and quartered within a week.” said Angelique.
Thomas pondered his decision for a bit after hearing Angelique’s words, uncertain if it was the truth. Angelique’s face soon shifted to one of concern, as she stood up and sauntered over to Thomas, placing her hand softly against his back, while the rest of her nubile form playfully made contact. He could feel her supple body pressing at him, her soft, inviting breasts pressing against his upper back, with her nipples lightly poking against him. Surprisingly, he was expecting to be jabbed in his lower back by the shape of her monstrous cock, but all he felt was a smooth, bare surface below. The intoxicating mixture of her exquisite perfume and the remnants of her sexual juices made Thomas close his eyes and shudder, her mellifluous, silky smooth words were so soothing, like pure honey in his ears.“Monsieur…do not worry,” Angelique said, shifting back to her gentle feminine tone. “I am not going to harm you. In fact I want to help you.”
Thomas turned around in disbelief to face Angelique. “H-Help me?”
“Oui,” smiled Angelique, looking into his eyes, her face appearing sincerely concerned. She placed her hand softly against his chest. “I can sense you are a troubled soul. No direction, unwanted and unloved. Your master, Monsieur Oliver; he treats you like a pathetic little dog. Society shuns you because of your skin color and your existence. I feel a great sorrow and pity on you Monsieur – no one should EVER deserve this, especially one with such talent and potential as you Monsieur Thomas.”
Thomas’s body shuddered as he heard Angelique’s reassuring voice. He then began to think about all of the circumstances which made up his tragic and unfortunate life. Separated from his parents at a young age, Thomas had been forced into a life of indentured servitude, and although he underwent long, grueling hours of hard work learning his craft, he reaped little benefit or praise. His boorish master preferred to mistreat and abuse Thomas, so that Oliver could be wrongfully credited for all of his ‘talents.’
homas tried to fight back the tears welling up in his eyes. It was true: he had been dealt a very unfair hand, and it was very comforting to see at least one person showing some sympathy. Thomas felt as if he had found a wonderful oasis in the arid desert, and Angelique was offering him the first sip of cool, nurturing water. He looked at her again, “T-Talent and potential?”
Angelique nodded. “You really think that I thought your talentless boor of a master was responsible for perfecting that dagger? I always knew it was you who had the skill. You have the... ‘ability to accept’ what I am about to offer to you.”
Thomas raised his eyebrow, still uncertain. “W-What sort of offer?”
Angelique leaned closer and whispered, “An offer to leave your pathetic existence behind…” She nibbled on Thomas’s ear, while laying her hands reassuringly on both of his shoulders, as her voice shifted back to her impossibly deep sounding baritone: “and to embrace unimaginable power, influence and desire.” Angelique winked at Thomas, before pulling both her arms back, as she casually crossed them underneath her completely exposed, naked bosom.
Thomas closed his eyes, still listening intently to Angelique. “Just think of it Monsieur; you would never be bullied or battered, people would look up to you, worship you, listen to your command, and be at your beck and call. You control them, you do whatever you want to them. You can do everything and anything, and I mean ‘ANYTHING’ to them and they can’t do anything to you, or can’t get back at you…. To do that, you need to embrace what I call…the Slithering.”
“S-Slithering?” Thomas remarked, confused. “W-Whatever do you mean, Madame?”
Angelique chuckled, walking to retrieve a small bell on the nearby table. Thomas observed her voluptuous, heart-shaped bottom swaying enticingly with each graceful movement. Despite being thirty-eight years old, the Comtesse’s body was impossibly youthful, looking like a young girl in her mid-twenties, with flawless, cream-colored skin. Her body was practically perfect. Thomas found it incredulous that this beautiful goddess had earlier had an incongruous, ugly-looking appendage and grotesque testicles that had emerged from her slit. Lifting her left hand, she lightly shook the bell, as a soft ring emanated from it; Thomas immediately noted the intricately designed snake-like ring adorned on Angelique’s finger.
Immediately as if on cue, another cloaked figure, this time cloaked in a crimson red color, entered from the kitchen door, carrying the same ornate box/case that Thomas thought he had misplaced. Lowering her hood, she revealed herself to be the Comtesse’s companion, Colette, who smiled mischievously at Thomas. Her hands were adorned with gloves that also matched the same color as her cloak. Gingerly setting the box onto the table, she handed a set of gloves to Angelique, who proceeded to slip her hands into those same gloves, as she turned to walk back to the couch.
“Thank you Henri,” nodded Angelique. “Please do not leave till the ceremony is complete.”
“Oui Mistress,” replied Colette in her deep, resonant baritone, smiling to Thomas again. Thomas blinked, his finger pointing at the mysteriously cloaked Colette. “H-Henri? But I thought…y-you mean, she is also like you?”
Angelique nodded while quietly opening the box. Taking the dagger out with both of her gloved hands, she tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She smiled in delight, still very much dazzled by its exquisite design. “Just look at this craftsmanship Monsieur,” she stated. “Such technique, such careful attention to detail. Your dedication into making this dagger a purposeful and meaningful display of your personal hopes and dreams is VERY evident. I commend you, Monsieur.”
Thomas did not know what to say to such sincere, heartfelt compliments, which was the first he had ever experienced before. Angelique held the dagger in her left hand as she beckoned Thomas to approach her. Thomas dutifully stepped away from the drawing room doors, facing Angelique, who was now seated back on the couch, with her drones accompanying her and kneeling beside her quietly, still unconsciously licking her delectable juices off of their hungry mouths.
“How long has it been since you have had anyone care for you, my dear Thomas,” continued Angelique. Her hands were resting on both of her drones’ heads, stroking them lighty like obedient pets. She looked down at them for a little while before her onyx-colored eyes darted up to focus on Thomas, almost piercing into his soul. She continued to speak directly to Thomas; her tone of voice seemed are gentle and sincere, and rather soothing. “I swear to you Monsieur, I will never let ANYTHING happen to you. All the power, all the wealth, all the attention will be yours to forever enjoy. You only need to just accept my offer and join me. Become one of us: embrace the Slithering…” Her convincing words were slowly sinking into Thomas’s head, needling and egging him...
Angelique replaced the dagger back into the box as she crossed her shapely legs, with a hint of her glistening inner thighs being briefly exposed. Thomas was speechless: on the one hand he was extremely terrified at the twisted, inhuman spectacle he had just witnessed, especially from a lovely woman as the Comtesse. She was essentially a demon disguised as an angel, and a very manipulative, charismatic one at that! A part of him was disgusted by her actions. And yet…another part was very intrigued. Thomas remained quiet, and Angelique did not exhibit any impatience, still petting her drones and understanding that the young boy was now deeply and seriously pondering her offer.
After a few minutes of deep thought, Thomas looked Angelique directly into her onyx-colored eyes and solemnly replied, “A-Alright…I accept your offer.”
Angelique flashed a sincere smile. “You made the right choice Monsieur.” She took off the glove from her left hand, as her right hand remained covered, picking up and holding the dagger. “Give me your left hand.”
Thomas was hesitant at Angelique’s request, but then complied, sticking out his bare left hand. Without any warning, Angelique raised the dagger and made a large cut into Thomas’s palm, sending a searing amount of pain. “AAAAHHHH!!!” yelled Thomas, clutching his hand, as he saw blood beginning to ooze from the laceration site. Angelique ignored his reaction, lifting up her ungloved left hand. Without even flinching, she created the same large laceration into her own left hand. Thomas could see a dark red blood oozing out, considerably blacker than his own blood. He also noticed that the laceration had exposed something ominous: underneath Angelique’s creamy white lusty flesh, was what appeared to be black scales, resembling that of a serpent. Thomas was still wincing from the pain.
“I know it stings Monsieur,” said Angelique in her reassuringly deep baritone. Angelique then brought the back of her left hand near Thomas’s own, specifically positioning her ornate snake-like ring near Thomas’s bloody laceration. She allowed a few drops of Thomas’s blood to drip on top of the ring, which suddenly caused the jewels in the snake’s eyes to glow a bright, luminescent green color. She then extended her long ring finger downward, lightly stretching it to allow a drop of her own blackened blood to make contact with the ring. As before, the snake’s eyes flashed a bright shade of glowing green.
Satisfied with the outcome, Angelique raised her bloody left hand, saying, “Now…clasp your hand against mine.” Thomas followed suit, and the two of them immediately clasped their similarly lacerated hands together. Thomas suddenly felt a grip from Angelique’s hand, a grip that was extremely firm and powerful, trapping his hand almost like a vice, as she closed her eyes and began to repeatedly recite a weird methodical chant in her deep masculine-sounding voice, almost an octave lower than her current tone. Thomas was getting nervous, uncertain as to what was happening now… the night sky immediately began to cloud over, as a loud, booming thunderous sound suddenly was heard, causing the walls of the mansion to vibrate and echo. Thomas noted a flash of lightning briefly illuminating the the dimly lit drawing room. He looked at Angelique, completely terrified, but she still had her eyes closed, chanting in an otherworldly, demonic tone...
All of a sudden, a bright flash of green light emanated from Angelique’s ring, almost blinding Thomas. Thomas heard a loud hissing sound, as he tried to blink his eyes to restore his sight. Looking at the ring, Thomas was stunned as it the silvery black metal began to contort and transmogrify, till it appeared to be a living metal serpent with green eyes. Suddenly, Thomas noticed the serpent’s mouth slowly open widely; what followed next was almost indescribable, as another smaller serpent emerged from the serpent’s oral recess. This new serpent began to slither back and forth off of Angelique’s ring finger, moving into position to rest instead on Thomas’s ring finger. As soon as the smaller metal snake resumed its shape and orientation onto Thomas, it reared its tiny metal fangs and sunk them into the flesh of Thomas’s finger. Thomas yelled in terror, “AAAAHHHHHH….w-what the...w-what’s happening…” Thomas could hear the loud, almost deafening sounds of the rain pounding the ceiling of the mansion, as he heard another roaring thunderclap, with the wind howling and blowing back the curtains of the drawing room!
His gaze turned to Angelique, but her eyes were still closed, and she was still fully immersed in her chanting ritual. Within seconds of the bite, the metal began to glow brightly in a green hue, causing an intense burning sensation against Thomas’s finger. Thomas tried to pull away, but Angelique’s grip remained strong and he was forced to endure another few minutes of torture. Thomas looked down, breathing heavily, as the pain in his finger subsided. Shortly thereafter, Thomas suddenly felt another severe bout of almost unbearable pain in his upper left chest. He cried, as the intensity of the pain made his eyes tear up: “AHHHHHHHHHHHHH….AHHHHHH MY CHEST!!!” As Angelique released his hand, Thomas instincitively began to rip his shift off, looking downwards to see the source of his torture. He soon noticed a blackened, snake-shaped tattoo adorning the upper part of his chest, which was identical to the one he had seen on Angelique’s chest earlier today at the blacksmith shop. He thought he had imagined the tattoo, but this was clear evidence that it was no illusion; he indeed was now marked.
Thomas was trying to hold back his tears, still stinging from the two intensely painful actions he just experienced. He looked over at his finger, and comparatively also looked at Angelique’s hand. Thomas was astonished to see that Angelique’s laceration had completely disappeared. It was as if Angelique had never sustained a wound from that dagger. As Thomas took a closer look – he saw that he had the exact same snake-like ring wrapped carefully and snugly around his ring finger. Looking over his left shoulder and chest, Thomas immediately noticedthe slightly raised area of skin painted in black ink in the exact same snake-like tattoo, over his left upper chest.
Angelique concluded her chanting, and lifted her head up, her slit-like yellow eyes blinking again and returning to a round, onyx-shaded form. She wickedly grinned, “Very good Thomas! The ceremony was successful – welcome to the Order of the Slitheryn,” she replied in her warm, calculated strangely comforting baritone timbre, placing the dagger back into the box gingerly and then hugging Thomas’s body warmly with both of her arms. Thomas returned the sincere hug, feeling wanted for the first time in his miserable life. He immediately unbuttoned his shirt, peeling it off of his dark-skinned body, looking again over his left shoulder to see an identical S-shaped snake tattoo adorned onto his left upper chest.
“The initial ceremony is ALWAYS painful, Thomas.” remarked Angelique. “As you learn to get used to the blood sacrifices, your body will automatically learn to heal itself faster, like it did mine. As you are new to our Order, that laceration will be bleeding for no more than twenty-four hours before it too completely heals. Till then, I need for you to squeeze more of your blood onto the eyes of your Slitheryn ring. Henri, go ahead and bring her here right now.”
Thomas did as he was instructed, squeezing a few drops of blood from his still freshly lacerated hand onto his ring. Suddenly, the jeweled eyes of the snake began to glow a deep, dark red hue, making a soft humming and hissing sound. Angelique smiled and nodded, “Good. Now your ring is now primed for the sacrifice.”
“S-Sacrifice? What sacrifice?” inquired Thomas, quite curious.
Thomas’s question was immediately answered as the kitchen doors swung open with a loud force. Colette/Henri had suddenly brought out a curvaceous young, blonde woman whose wrists had been securely tied by what appeared to be a long green silk scarf/towel, while her mouth was gagged and tied up with a similar garment. Thomas could see that the scarf wound the woman’s wrists tightly together, and that the gagged woman had a panicked look on her lovely face. Colette immediately guided her, forcing her to lay down onto the drawing room couch, before removing the woman’s gag. Thomas examined the woman much more closely: the woman was the spitting image of Colette herself, with a similarly voluptuous body, except her hair was a honey blonde color compared to Colette’s golden blonde locks, which had cascaded down to the woman’s lithe shoulders in a gentle pattern.
Once the gag was off, the woman immediately cried out, “Please Monsieur…help me….I’ve been trapped in this plantation for weeks now…the Comtesse and my own twin sister are NOT who they appear to be…please sir, help me…”
Colette immediately went over and slapped the woman hard on the cheek with her ungloved left hand. “Silence!” she growled in a commanding voice that boomed and startled the captive woman, causing her to comply. The angle of her strike was such that Colette’s own snake-shaped ring had indirectly struck the woman’s face too, which created a small cut due to the ring’s jagged surface, drawing a little bit of blood. Colette then turned around, bowing respectfully to Angelique, signifying that the sacrifice was ready.
Angelique winked over to Thomas. “I’d like for you to meet Colette’s beloved virgin twin sister - Josette.” she said with a malicious smirk. “Heavenly isn’t she? Are you anticipating the opportunity to ogle and molest her body?”
Colette smiled, replying in her sing-song voice, “Yes, Monsieur Thomas….would you like to FUCK my beloved twin sister? She then leered evilly at her ‘twin sister’, who gasped with a small whimper.
Thomas nodded, his hesitancy beginning to weaken, as strange, selfish erotic events began to formulate in his mind . He witnessed a variety of sinful, lewd, enticingly erotic vision appear like tempting hallucinations. He could hear seductive voices, both male and female, goading and urging him to do something quite despicable and dastardly with this young girl, and it was becoming harder to resist the temptation with every minute, all of which he had never encountered before. “Very good my boy,” said a smug Angelique. She gesture her hand at Josette. “Now go ahead and get your reward…go ahead and finish your initiation by fucking this helpless creature.”
Thomas’s face lowered as he closed his eyes. Within a few minutes, his previously stunned visage had changed, and he now had a face that appeared, stern, cold, calculating, and full of lust. With a sly grin, Thomas replied, “Oui Madame.”
Angelique immediately corrected him. “No dear Thomas, you can continue to call me Comtesse or Mistress. Do NOT use Madame…..remember, there is no need for formality or decorum. You are part of my family now.”
Thomas nodded. “My apologies my Mistress, I am still getting used to this knowledge and power that I completely forgot myself.” He then turned to the frightened young woman, who was laying there helpless on the drawing room couch. Approaching her with a lustful look in his eye, Thomas grinned and unfastened his belt and then slowly pulled down his cum-stained breeches, as his 7-inch thick, dark sooty-colored cock sprung forward, already beginning to bob up and down as it stiffened at the full sight of the victim’s delicate, shapely body. Josette’s eyes widened as she attempted to protest again, “No Monsieur..please….I beg you…mmpphhhh!” Her pleas were immediately and intentionally muffled as Colette/Henri replaced the gag in her mouth.
Thomas was feeling a flood of dark, twisted emotions, something that he had never experienced before. It heightened his senses, as if an omnipotent force was beckoning him…to listen…and to act. He saw Josette’s helpless body and marveled at her gentle beauty; she was an innocent young girl but that behavior belied a very well-developed, well-endowed woman. Thomas leaned forward, and slowly grabbed Josette’s knees, spreading them apart. As Thomas leaned even closer, his dusty, dirty visage was just inches away from Josette’s angelic cheeks. She could smell the disgusting mix of grime and perspiration, and hear Thomas’s heavy, labored, wanton breathing. Josette tried to turn her head away as Thomas lasciviously began to lick Josette’s cheek, targetting her recently cut wound and grunting deeply, flashing a hint of a menacing grin.
A bolt of lightning quickly revealed the entirety of the drawing room, exposing Josette to Thomas’s malicious looking, wanton expression on his face, as she whimpered in abject fear...
Angelique clasped her hands, beaming in delight. “Yessss….explore every inch of her womanly curve my dear Thomas…” She motioned Colette to sit next to her silently. Colette complied, while also undoing the buttons of her crimson red cloak, revealing her own nude and buxom frame underneath. Colette began to nestle her entire body against Angelique. The wicked Comtesse then allowed Colette’s delicate hand to slowly enter her wet pink pussy, Colette’s crimson red fingernails slowly and methodically rubbing Angelique’s wet slit. Angelique bellowed out a deep, terrifying grunt, as her monstrous inhumanly sized dark-skinned cock and large balls once again emerged from the confines of her wet pussy, creating an eerily loud and sticky sound. Collette then used her petite hand to slowly rub Angelique’s monstrous dark-colored cock, which then began to enlarge and stiffen a little. She turned to her devoted companion, and helped slip off Colette’s cloak, tugging firmly on its sleeves…as the cloak collected around Colette’s waists, exposing her full, smooth, creamy, full-\bodied figure. “Mmmmm….” moaned Angelique, as she lowered her face, and began suckling on Colette’s pert and sensitive pink nipples, while groping her full, firm breasts. “Continue Monsieur,” instructed Angelique in between her groping and suckling. “Don’t dawdle; satisfy your hunger…your desire. Please your Mistress…”
Thomas smiled at Angelique, understanding. Josette’s struggles soon quieted down as an eerie calm came over her, uncertain as to what would happen next…
She didn’t have to wait long. Thomas lifted his body up, before positioning his throbbing cock against the now vulnerable and sensitive opening of Josette’s virgin pussy. Lowering his torso yet again, Thomas rested the tip of his cock against her delicate, widened labial folds, as his throbbing member gently collided against the surface, making a slapping sound. Josette began to struggle and flail again, trying to undo her silk restraints. Gripping her thighs firmly, Thomas stopped his teasing and went for the kill, slowly inserting the head of his cock, pushing and spreading Josette’s orifice wider...a sloshing, squishy sound could be heard, coupled with Josette’s extremely high-pitched wincing, muffled by the gag. Josette was visibly exhibiting full discomfort and despair, as her virgin hymen was being torn and ravaged by Thomas’s fully erect, soot-covered cock. The intensity was such that a tiny bit of dark blood was seeping out of Josette’s ruin flower, Colette grinned upon seeing Thomas’s cock plunge head first into her twin sister’s virginity, chuckling, “Look my Mistress, it fits…my beloved ‘sister’ has FINALLY found her man. I am overjoyed beyond belief for her, hehe…”
Angelique softly smiled as her smooth, delicate hand began to wander down to Colette’s own womanhood, spreading apart her moist, pink pussy lips. Still with a small remnant of her own cock’s sweet and salty goodness smeared on her lips, Angelique confiscated that remnant and began to smear it over Colette’s labia, causing her companion to moan deeply and pleasurably. It was enough of a stimulation that always excited Colette/Henri whenever her Mistress gave her an extra bit of “special attention.” Colette thrust her torso forward, growling as a squishy, thick sound signified the emergence of Colette’s own tan-colored, impressive, stiff 6-inch manmeat accompanied by her large, thick testicles, all of which was sopping wet after emerging from her pussy. Angelique shifted her fondling of Colette’s pussy lips, having been parted to make room for Colette’s cock, as she now moved to lubricating and rubbing her companion’s shaft back and forth gently, eyeing Colette’s twisted emotions surfacing…
Thomas was surprised himself at how his cock could completely penetrate the terrified young woman’s pussy, but shook off his doubts as his horny, lascivious mind had taken over. Josette’s pussy felt like heaven, a soft, warm environment being completely violated and invaded by his hard, throbbing cock. He began thrusting his whole body back and forth, the sound of Josette’s thighs slapping against his waist, while his crotch pounded loudly against Josette’s virginity. Thomas intensified his motions, really digging and pushing the entire weight of his member into Josette. The wet slapping sounds of their flesh could be heard in the dimly lit drawing room. With each forceful thrust, Josette could feel an extremely tight, excruciatingly painful pressure, to which she could only react through her shrieking, muffled cries: “MMMPHHHHHH!!!!!! MPHHHH!!!!” Tears had begun to well up from her innocent blue eyes, contrasted with the slit-like pupils her twin sister Colette now exhibited as Angelique continued rubbing her hands up and down against the firm surface of Colette’s cock.
Thomas grunted deeply, his voice dropping slightly lower than usual, as he tried to imitate Angelique’s own monstrous echos earlier. Beads of sweat were pouring down Thomas’s cheeks as he dutifully pounded away into Josette…Josette herself continued to resist, though her resolve was starting to wane, which was demonstrated by her nipples suddenly becoming very erect and her pussy becoming VERY wet. She had NEVER reacted this way before, but this was all she could think of at the moment in her current twisted predicament. Not only that but Josette began to feel the temptation of wanting to grope and fondle her body, whether it was due to Thomas’s relentless fuckfest or the dire situation she was in. She was slowly surrendering to her base desires, her tense body beginning to slowly relax and give in: both Angelique and Colette recognized this…
Angelique quickened her own motions, now leaning forward, her raven-black hair slung behind her back. She wrapped her blood red lips around the head of Colette’s fuckstick, slowly moistening and licking the top, while tugging on her prepuce with her perfectly white teeth. Colette groaned in response, completely surprised, as she welcomed the forward action from her Mistress. She braced herself as Angelique began bobbing her head up and down, sucking, licking and inhaling all the thick, stiff goodness that characterized Colette’s shaft. Angelique completely revelled in inhaling and taking in the pungent, sweet smell of her servant/apprentice’s large, thick girlmeat.
Thomas spread open Josette’s legs more, now really pushing his waist back and forth rapidly, hearing the loud slapping of his thighs against Josette’s. Josette’s muffled screams were compelling Thomas to keep going. He could feel his cock really start to throb and pulsate. Josette’s pussy was a warm, conducive environment and Thomas knew that he was going to explode soon.
Angelique ceased her cock-sucking, looking up to see the twisted scene before her, smiling as she instructed to Thomas: “Now...my dear Thomas...for the final part of the ceremony, I want you to make an important sacrifice. Make her kiss your ring, and make her yours, in body and soul!”
Thomas complied, still thrusting and pounding deeply into Josette, yanking her cloth/gag off, which gave Josette the opportunity to do nothing but scream hysterically with all her limited might. It was accompanied by the rumbling, menacing sound of thunder heard from outside.
Angelique ceased her suckling and quietly leaned towards Josette’s face, lifting it gingerly, and chuckled deeply in a guttural, gruff growl, “Scream all you want my dear…..the estate is quite far from the city and the nearest house is many miles away All of my servants cannot help you because they are loyal only to me, ha ha ha!” She looked back at her two male drones, Oliver and Lieutenant Ducard, still kneeling, staring blankly and obediently. She smiled, lifting herself up and raised an eyebrow mischievously, before giving Thomas his final command, “Now Thomas - make her ‘kiss’ your ring!”
Without any hesitation, Thomas immediately grabbed Josette’s mouth, and brought her lips to the surface of his ring. Opening her jaw, Thomas forced open her mouth, and placed the ring inside. Suddenly the ring transmogrified into a vicious snake-like creature, which hissed, before rearing its head back and thrusting it forward, while spitting a dark, reddish, warm, putrid liquid into Josette’s mouth - a sample of his newly demonic blood now entering Josette’s body. She coughed and gagged, tears rolling down her eyes, as she was repulsed by the taste of such vile liquid.
Angelique returned to her suckling of Colette’s cock, tilting her head against its lubricated surface of Colette’s shaft, to advise Thomas. “I know you want to release all your essence her. Don’t hesitate dear Thomas…imbue her with your dark, sticky seed!” she growled, nodding and encouraging him.
Thomas suddenly let out a large yell, “OHHHH FUCCCCKKKKK…I’M C-CUMMING OUT…OHHHHHHH….” He arched his back and gave his hips a large, dynamic thrust, as he suddenly ejaculated his newly demonic seed…the hot sticky juice leaving his testicular reservoir, flooding firing load after load directly into Josette’s pussy interior and drenching her sensitive clit. She winced, squinching her eyes, sharply arching her back: “AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Thomas could feel his cock submerged in his own sticky and satisfying liquid pool of cum, contained inside the cavity of his victim…
Thomas relaxed his strained muscles, exhaling, as he suddenly witnessed the eyes from his snake ring glow a blood red hue. Feeling a significant amount of pain in his body, he arched back, and was surprised to see the recently placed black snake tattoo come alive, slithering down his left chest, towards his arm, heading to his ring, where it suddenly merged and morphed into the ring. The ring then took on another transformation, changing into a metal snake, hissing and slithering from his finger as it wiggled and transferred itself to Josette’s nubile, delicate body. Thomas’s ring began to glow even brigher, as the metal snake soon moved over to Josette’s finger, rearing its atrocious head back before biting her finger with its metal fangs. Josette screamed in pain, “AAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!” She tried to wrest herself of her captor, but she was unable to move as the metal snake constricted her finger in such a way that her entire body was rigid and helpless...soon thereafter, the metal snake began to pull away, as it opened its mouth and regurgitated another smaller metal, snake-like offspring. It began to quickly slither in between the valley of Josette’s bountiful breasts, and then the snake-like rested upon her upper left chest, just above her lovely bosom. Satisfied with its new home, it raised its fangs and then bit Josette again, causing a searing, burning pain making her wince and plead for mercy, “NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” The tiny metal snake soon dissolved, changing into an exact replica of Thomas’s evil black snake tattoo.
The ritual was complete and both sexual parties were exhausted beyond belief. Thomas could barely keep his eyes open - his body was all but expended, and he soon collapsed on top of Josette’s stomach, passing out…collapse on her body. Josette still moaning unconsciously under Thomas’s limp body.
Angelique and Colette both chuckled as they observed Josette’s moan morph and drop in pitch every few minutes. They both look and grinning at the sight before them, at Josette’s violently shaken body under Thomas’s limp body, her voice suddenly making final metamorphosis from its high-pitched shrieks to a deep, gruff, booming baritone with the exact same inflection and pattern as Thomas’s own voice. She raise her head upward and open her eyes. Her beautiful eyes had now changed, her pupils darkened and changed into narrow yellow slits for a short period of time. Josette blinked, as her eyes then returned to their natural ocean blue color. She soon collapsed, passing out from the intense, erotic ordeal.
A soothing, rich resonant deep sounding voice awoke the young man from his slumber. Thomas blinked his eyes, which were very sensitive to the sudden glow of bright light completely illuminating the drawing room of the plantation. Waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light, Thomas suddenly noticed that the drawing room was no longer shrouded in darkness – it was completely lit. More importantly, Angelique and Colette were completely dressed, both looking demure and lovely as ever: Angelique was wearing an elegant red and black nightgown with black ruffles, her hair expertedly arranged in a tight bun. Colette had on a modest but equally attractive lavender chemise, her own shapely curves in full display. They both smiled warmly to Thomas.
Angelique moved closer leaning close to Thomas’s face “Bonjour Monsieur Thomas, or should I say, Mademoiselle Josette…” winked Angelique knowingly.
Thomas looked down at his body and immediately noticed that it was lighter, softer, and more supple overall. Strands of curly honey-blonde hair could be felt against his cheeks. He felt a heavy set of fleshy, pillowy globes that minimally swayed and bobbed, as they were encased and supported by a light green bra, which could be barely seen as it was covered by the sheer light green fabric of what appeared to be a sensuous looking nightgown. Thomas lifted up his hand, which now was characterizied by soft, smoothy, and creamy skin, a young, elegant girl’s hand, not the rough, sooty hand of a pathetic, pitiful, reviled blacksmith. Thomas slowly sat up, and immediately he felt the unfamiliar weight of two supple, exquisitely enticing fleshy globes on his chest which swaysed and jiggled like soft moving jelly. He glanced at a nearby mirror: seated on the drawing room couch was that of the lovely Josette, her body clothed in a shapely light green nightgown, wearing the exact same expression of surprise Thomas had right now.
“Oui my sweet Josette,” said Angelique, leaning her face close to his/her face as they both look at the mirror “Your eyes do not deceive you. That is indeed you. The ceremony is now complete and you have achieved your first successful Slithering, into the lovely body of this young mademoiselle.”
The new Josette attempted to stand up to examine his new female body, but found herself to be very wobbly, unused to her new center of gravity. Colette quickly anticipated this and caught her twin sister, lifting her up gingerly. “Careful my dear sister,” Colette chuckled deeply. “The first Slithering is always the most difficult to get used to…just take it easy…”
Josette smiled at her helpful ‘sister.’ Righting herself up, she managed to find her words, and spoke in Thomas’s exact gruff, deep baritone, “Everything feels…different.”
“But of course my dear Josette, you are now a gorgeous young woman.” said Angelique with a deep, hearty, twisted laugh.
“Why am I dressed in this…outfit?” asked Josette, cupping her soft bosom with both of her delicate hands, looking confused. “And what happened to my…male body?”
“I dressed your body while you were unconscious per instructions from our Mistress,” replied Colette. “This is one of the real Josette’s favorite pieces of lingerie, at least based on the memories I could glean from the real Colette’s mind…” Colette said smirk.
“And in regards to your male body,” added Angelique, “it is tucked in safely in one of the guest bedrooms of this plantation. “The door is locked and only I and Colette have access to the room, as will yourself later on.”
“Enough with the small talk though,” said Colette, also fondling her breasts lewdly encased in her sensuous lavender chemise. She licked her lips then say “What do we do about…him?” she asked, pointing her finger at the unconscious Oliver sitting and leaning against one end of the drawing room couch.
“Hmmmm….” remarked Angelique, raising her delicate left hand and placing it on her cheek, pensive in thought. She then got an ingeniously mischievous idea. “How about letting Josette come up with a plan for Monsieur Oliver, since she knows him so very much more than we do…”
Josette was finding it easier to maintain her balance, as she adjusted to her new center of gravity. She looked at her left hand and identified the same snake ring, which appeared to have transferred from her old male body to this one. Lowering her head, she also could identify the dark tribal snake tattoo adorned on her upper left chest. “Yes Josette,” said Angelique. “The tattoo and ring are both bound to your soul, and will travel with you wherever you go or whatever body you possess. They are inextricably tied with your abilities as a new Slitheryn.”
Angelique smiled as Josette continued to explore her new body. “You will have plenty of time later for that, my dear Josette. Now…please tell us how do wish to handle your former caretaker?” she remarked, once again gesturing to the sleeping Monsieur Oliver.
Josette glared at her former master as she quietly approached his sleeping form. She reminded herself of all of the dismissive, abusive drunken beatings she had to endure as Thomas; how often Oliver had taken advantage of his hard works and labors, and unfairly took all the credit. Despite the initial teaching and training Thomas had received, Thomas knew that Oliver was resentful of his ability, but that didn’t matter now that he had the power to possess, influence, and control. Josette’s hand clenched itself into a small fist, as she remembered all of the painful periods of her previous life. Now having been seduced and entranced by the corrupt nature of his new Mistress, Thomas’s formerly honest and true character was cast away in favor of a vicious, ruthless and selfish monster. Josette/Thomas did not want to suffer anymore, but she was now beginning to relish the thought of manipulating and making others suffer, starting with her horrid former master.
Josette then saw that the dagger was still enclosed inside the ornamental box/case, and that there was a set of black velvet gloves laying on top of the case. An absolutely wicked and vengeful idea suddenly popped in her mind. Turning to Angelique, she smiled and said, “Mistress, how long till he regains control of his senses?”
“I can ‘wake’ him up whenever I want.” replied Angelique, grinning. “Why do you ask, sweet Josette? What fiendish little plot do you have in mind for Monsieur Oliver?”
“Bring him upstairs and I will tell you two what I have in mind…” Josette said with a lusty but wicked grin.
Oliver was feeling completely disoriented and blinded by the bright lights as he blinked open his eyes. The last thing he remembered was having a sip of the Comtesse’s vintage family wine, which made him feel nauseous and sick to his stomach. He found himself in a large, ornate bedroom, and the candles were all lit. Oliver could hear some muffled, high-pitched crying and screaming right in front of him, but he couldn’t figure at first who was in pain or in trouble.
Within a few minutes, his vision and hearing both gained clarity and he finally witnessed and understood, to his horror, the commotion:
Laying against a large, opulent mahogany bed, with a terrified, panicked look on her face, was Colette – the same servant girl who welcomed and guided Oliver to this room earlier this evening. She had her arms wrapped around another young woman that looked exactly like her, except her hair was more of a honey-blonde color. Both young women were dressed in sheer, flimsy nightwear. Their clothing appeared to have been torn and ripped, their hair dissheveled and Oliver could see some minor bruises and small slash marks on Colette’s thigh and on the young woman’s arm. Both lacerations were still quite fresh, and blood was oozing out of them…
“NO!!! Please Monsieur…don’t hurt us…” cried the young woman, tears welling in her pretty blue eyes. She was shaking in fear. “We beg of you…stay away!”
“Monsieur Oliver…w-why are you d-doing this?” Colette screamed. “W-We’ve done nothing wrong…we don’t want what you have to offer. So just l-leave us be!”
Oliver was confused and horrified. It was as if he had just awoken from a terrible nightmare. He looked down, and his face grew livid. Oliver’s right hand was clutching the ornamental snake dagger he had brought to the Comtesse earlier this evening. It was stained in the exact same blood he saw on the young girls’ lacerations. What was even worse, was that Oliver found himself pantless, and his long, thick six and a half-inch cock was throbbing slowly in front of him. He could also see globs of his semen hanging from the tip of his cock, and upon further inspection, noted that the same milky white liquid was spattered over the two women’s bodies.
Oliver backed away, completely hysterical. “N-No…it can’t be…”
Suddenly, Oliver heard a knock at the door and the Comtesse’s sweet voice call out: “Colette? Josette? Mes chères? Are you both decent?” Oliver had no time to hide as the door immediately opened and Angelique and Lieutenant Ducard entered. “Why are you two still...oh mon Dieu!!!!”
Lieutenant Ducard, now fully uniformed, was equally stunned and disgusted at this perverse display of wanton lust. “Why…you horrendous miscreant!” he exclaimed, drawing his sword. “Drop the dagger, now sir!”
Oliver complied, releasing his grip as the dagger fell to the floor, still coated with blood. Angelique raced over to the bed and covered the two girls with the bedspread. She was wearing the same black and red gown that she wore earlier during her meeting with Oliver. “What happened???” Angelique asked the two young women, her eyes full of concern.
“Oh Tatie! It was horrible!” cried Colette. “He was completely drunk and climbed into our room, threatening us to give up our virginity! When Josette refused, he took out that dagger and tried to tear off our clothes!”
The other woman just shuddered, silent and traumatized.
“That’s not true!” Oliver protested. “I-I didn’t do this!” He then pointed to Colette, “She let me into your home as I was supposed to meet with the Comtesse, and then I shared a glass of the Comtesse’s wine, remember? It was so strong that I passed out, and when I woke up, I found myself in this situation! It’s the truth, I swear…”
Angelique shook her head. “Monsieur, I do not even remember arranging a meeting with you tonight. I did have a meeting tonight though, but it was with Lieutenant Ducard. The last time you and I spoke was earlier this morning.”
“I swear to you Madame, she let me in!” said Oliver, pointing to the frightened Colette again. “She’s your servant girl.”
Angelique snapped. “How dare you, Monsieur! Colette is my niece, as is Josette. They are staying with me for the weekend, and they are NOT servant girls.”
“Enough!” Angelique interrupted. “I have heard enough. I will not tolerate a liar such as you, Monsieur. Lieutenant, please arrest this repulsive rat and take him out of my sight!”
“With pleasure, Comtesse!” acknowledged Lieutenant Ducard. He sheathed his sword and grabbed Oliver’s arm firmly. “Let’s go, sir.” He ordered. Oliver was still stunned as Ducard took out his handcuffs and secured them around Oliver’s wrists, and then forcefully led Oliver away and out of the bedroom. As Oliver walked behind Ducard, he did not look back at the three ladies, but could hear their conversation:
Angelique: “Oh mes nièces! Are you two alright? Did he hurt both of you?
Josette: “Oh Tatie, it was horrible…he came at us with the dagger, and…and…”
Angelique: “Shhhh….it is ok, Tatie is here. Nothing bad is going to happen anymore. That awful miscreant will hang for his crimes, and he won’t harm you two ever again…”
If Oliver had looked back however, he would have seen twisted, malevolent feminine faces silently trying to hold back their calculated laughter as they convincingly continued their charade…
A few weeks later…
The gates of the dark, damp pit that was Beaufort Royale’s Old Prison House made a loud creaking sound as the prison officer accompanied a young nun carrying a small Bible past the long row of cells. Stopping in the middle, the officer banged his stick against the prison bars loudly, in order to alert the occupant inside.
From the darkness, a scruffy, unkempt, withered gentleman emerged. Oliver eyed the curious nun behind his prison bars, looking very demure and pious, clutching her Bible tightly in her hand. The prison officer unlocked Oliver’s prison cell and sternly told the nun, “You have fifteen minutes.” He then looked at Oliver coldly, “And you better treat her with respect.” He closed the prison cell and securely locked it before walking back to his post.
The nun watched the prison officer leave and in a polite singsong voice called out: “Bless you my child.” She opened her Bible and began to quietly read a passage. Oliver was dumbfounded, completely puzzled as to why she was here. “Are you here to read my last rites or something?” he asked with grim curiosity.
The young nun stopped reading, and closed her Bible. Still keeping her head down, her white wimple and black veil both obscuring her face, she quietly responded, “Only an ordained priest may read your last rites. And with your execution set for tomorrow, I would not act so glib.”
Oliver looked down penitently. “My apologies, Sister...”
The nun did not acknowledge Oliver, adjusting her habit. “I see you have been dealt quite an unfair hand.”
Oliver slowly nodded. The circumstances which led to him being imprisoned was still hazy but the outcome nevertheless was one he would never forget. He remembered the trial that was held against him…how he stood alone as he was prosecuted for something he knew he did NOT do. He recalled the Comtesse and Lieutenant Ducard serving as witnesses against him, as well as the testimonies of other women he had courted during his glib, irresponsible days of drink and merriment. All the evidence was presented in full – the fingerprints on the dagger, the blood stain, the description of his uncompromising appearance. His reputation had already been blemished because of his laziness and decadent nature, but by an “attempted molestation” of the Comtesse’s nieces, Oliver now he had a permanent black spot that would be impossible to erase. The gallows was sadly his only option.
The nun continued to look down, almost in pity, and said. “Do you have anything to say, or perhaps...to admit to me now?”
Oliver tilted his head, confused. “I’m not sure what you mean, Sister…”
The nun lifted her head, as her white wimple and black veil revealed to Oliver a familiar face – the face of the very same woman whom Oliver “attacked” that night morning.
“YOU!” growled Oliver, furious. He tried to reach and grab her but his wrists were still chained.
The nun saved him the trouble, as she suddenly grabbed him by his tattered shirt collar with almost inhuman strength, her lovely face close to him and looked him straight in the eye. She whisper to him “I wouldn’t do that Monsieur Oliver.” She cleared her throat, and then finished her sentence in the deep, gruff voice of a long-forgotten acquaintance. “Or should I say…’Master’.” She winked and then released him from her grasp.
Oliver immediately pulled back, his face becoming a pale white. “O-Oh my God…T-Thomas? H-How? This c-can’t be…”
“My name is Josette now,” replied the nun in Thomas’s deep baritone, giving Oliver a menacing, vengeful grin. “And let’s just say that our fates have been twisted in such a way that I am finally getting my revenge on you for treating me like a wretched, pathetic little worm.” She said, gritting her teeth, her lovely face twisted in anger.
“Revenge? W-Why Thomas? W-What did I ever do to you?”
“So very much, ‘Master,’ replied Josette. “But I have to thank you…because of you, I was introduced to my beloved Mistress, and now I have never been more satisfied with who I’ve become.” She now smile / wink / grin mocking him.
“Y-You’re a demon!” cried Oliver, terrified. “That’s what you are…a demon!”
Josette/Thomas began to form a calculating smile, as she incongruously switched back to her sweet, innocent voice, her eyes suddenly changing into evil yellow slit-looking pupils. She tilted her head, as Oliver heard an audible SNAP coming from her neck, while she looked at him directly in his frightened eyes. “Why Monsieur,” she continued. “However can you say such a thing to me?” She then proceeded to bring her hands down to the hem of her black dress, lifting it up…as Oliver saw that Josette was not wearing anything but her lovely, creamy, smooth naked body underneath. Oliver could identify Josette’s plump, supple breasts with pink nipples, her smooth wasp-like waistline, her shapely hips and long smooth legs, and finally her female snatch, with a patch of trimmed blonde hair, above very moist pussy lips as she inched closer to him. The nun leaned one of her legs forward, making her hips sway out suggestively, while still mocking Oliver. Just the perverse sight and her sweet, intoxicating smell caused Oliver to be strangely aroused in this grim moment.
“Monsieur Oliver,” Josette said, blinking her eyes back to her ocean blue, as she pleaded in a playful, whimpering voice, taunting her former master. “Forgive me for I have sinned…” Josette’s crotch suddenly began making a loud, squishy sound as Oliver witnessed a large dark-colored 7-inch cock spring forth from Josette’s vaginal walls, complete with a matching set of testicles. It pulsated and throbbed and wiggled back and forth, as Josette/Thomas continued to torture Oliver, now switching back to his deep, malevolent baritone: “Don’t you want to touch it Master? It’s so very nice and big…you sucked on one exactly like it that night out of my Mistress’s pussy…c’mon Master...just have a taste...it would take the place of your ‘last meal’…” she chuckled, mocking and taunting him.
As Josette’s monstrous wet member brushed against Oliver’s body, She grinned, shaking her hips from side to side, teasinly brushing him. Oliver finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Guard!” he screamed. “GUARD!”
A few minutes later, the prison officer raced over to Oliver’s cell. “What’s going on?” he yelled. As he unlocked the door, the officer saw nothing but the young nun quietly reading her Bible, but Oliver was white as a sheet, completely petrified, drool coming out of his mouth and shuddering.
“I was just reading quietly to him some encouraging passages and he started to shake uncontrollably.” replied the nun, with a worried look on her face.
“Your time is up now Sister Josette.” said the prison officer, sighing.
“Just as well, I must be returning back to the church anyways. Thank you for letting me spend time with him. The young nun smiled demurely at the guard. All I wanted was to bring some hope during his darkest hour, but I suppose it is not possible with certain lost souls.” She bow her head and sighed.
The officer silently nodded, as the nun exited the cell. From the darkness that seemed to protect him, Oliver was still in shock, yet he managed to see the young nun walking behind the officer out of the corner of his eye. While the officer was not looking, Oliver noted her delicate hand sifting through the confines of her large nun robe, as a moderately sized protrusion began to push itself out of the robe itself. She giggled, her hand still appearing to rub repeatedly underneath the robe, while her other hand blew him an insincere, wicked little kiss before exiting the prison gate.