The Surrender of Lady Charlotte (14 page)

“No, sir, please, I implore you. Anything, anything to have my body back.”

“Ooo, Mountbane, come here,” one sensuously slumbering woman rose on the bed to draw him back.

“Ah, be done with you, bitches,” he snarled as he waved her off.

The second woman pulled from bed, coming to the Lord and wrapping her body about his with her hand resting on the soft package of his scrotum. “Milord, we were just about to…”

He shook her off. “Out of here, all of you!”

“Husband, please,” Charlotte fell to her knees at his feet and looked up at him wantingly. “Hear me out, please.”

“Get on!” he snapped. It wasn’t clear who he was yelling at, his whores or his wife. The two nymphs in his bed scampered out the door, tittering as they went. They had little reason to fear, but they could sense a fight was brewing and were not about to take the shock of it themselves. They left Lady Charlotte to fend for herself with the grim-faced man. “And why do you remain?” he smoldered, still disgruntled.

“Because I must have you listen.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you once cared for me. Because we shared a great physical feast. It was only when our passions dwindled that I found comfort elsewhere, just as you did. Time was not a good companion in our union.”

“Actually, I’ve rather enjoyed knowing that you suffered these months.”

“But you have suffered, too. Look at you.”

“How so?”

“Your face, your brow. There is little mirth in you now. Even your mockery falls flat for lack of inspiration.” She eyed him somewhat cautiously thinking she might just be breaking down his grumpy exterior. “You have lost your wit, sir.”

“Indeed not!”

“Indeed so, sir. I only say this because of the melancholy that pours from you.”

He scowled.

“I know what passes—or doesn’t pass between us weighs heavily on you, despite what airs you adopt to cover your gloom. You may be the sadist that you claim, but you are also human. There is a spirit in you that seeks other things than the pursuit of this terror. I do believe it is so. Your face alone speaks so persuasively of your inner heart. Tell me it is not so.”

He scowled still, but less offensively. Perhaps his mood was easing. He paced the room, obviously troubled now, then strode to her again as she sat meekly waiting for him to speak. “Perhaps you speak the truth.”

Charlotte was surprised to hear these words, having expected that he’d deny her once again. Her heart gladdened, but she was cautious. “I believe I do,” she answered him. “Whip me if I lie, but if I am seeing what is true, there is something curious in your guise; something in your heart, perhaps?”

“Yes. I think so,” he agreed more directly.

“Then confess to me? Perhaps I can help you.”

“Help me?” He nurtured the thought for some seconds while Charlotte watched the expression on his face transform from puzzlement to inspiration. “Yes, perhaps you can…” he paused, letting the thought settle, “and even earn what you so desire.”

“How so, husband?”

Mountbane stared at her while making his decision. She could see the conversation in his brain: how one side warred against such intimate disclosure, while the other demanded this revelation. To wait was miserable, and even if he were to divulge his secret, there was no certainty that it would mean any change in Charlotte’s life. Still, this was better news than anything she’d heard in months.

“I aspire to win the heart of a woman,” Mountbane finally announced, almost as if he were embarrassed.

“Ah, sir, and who is this woman?”

“The maid Rosaura.”

“She is the intended of Sir Leonas?”

“Yes, she is. But I would have her.”

“You can take her as you desire, sir. That is your right.”

“Of course, but that is not what I want this time.”

“Oh?”

“I must throw him over but not so that she knows I’ve had a hand in it. And then, I want her loving me. Not forced as you were.” He scowled with a suddenly troubled look. “All that is jaded and meaningless. I want her to beg at my feet as you once did—and do now—not because she wants her freedom, or her lust, but because she
loves
me. Because she desires me with her whole being.”

“Ah! Sir.”

“I need your help.”

Charlotte’s heart leapt excitedly. This was the first real chance for some release from the dreaded belt. “You would, perhaps, free me?”

“If I had this woman, Charlotte, trust me, you would be gone—without your present chastity. You leave my province, I don’t care where you go.”

“You are certain, sir?”

“Only if I win in love.”

“Then what shall I do?”

“It seems feasible to first find a means to discredit Leonas in the sweet Rosaura’s eyes. And then, your second task will be to enlist her love for me. Put her eyes on mine, her heart, her mind focused on me. She is a sweet and innocent thing and simply needs to turn her face in my direction for me to woo her. With Leonas out of the way, I believe that can happen. I want her in Caius’ dungeon willingly trained as my consort and future bride.”

“Your bride?”

“Our divorce can be simply made, can it not?”

“I assume so, if you’re the one to grant it.”

He smiled. “So, how does this collusion fit with your sensibilities?”

“It fares well. Leonas is no great man,” Charlotte rationalized. Yes, she thought the plan sound—even if it meant that she’d be consigned to moral treachery to be freed from her bondage. “I could tell Rosaura many things to turn her heart to you.” She paused. “Though it would be wise, sir, to demonstrate to her all that I report. Sometimes, the innocent have the most crafty intuition. They can spot a trick faster than the jaded sort like you and me.”

“I’m sure. But in this case, there is no trickery in my affection for her. If she truly loved me, I cannot imagine knowing anything but love my life long.”

“And you did not feel that way with me?”

“No,” he answered simply. “Any more than you loved me.”

“I see.” She rose to her feet like an equal in his eye. “My plans work fast. I can have Leonas far from sight in a short time. The winning of Rosaura, however, might take some time—and only after her heart mends from being broken.”

“Then it is settled with me. I have my prize, you have your sex restored to you. But remember, this must be done in secret, and no hint of our plan should ever reach her ears.”

“Of course,” she answered. “It is agreed.”

Charlotte waited in the garden in secret, behind a stone wall, which was covered by a thick mass of vines. Her two accomplices knew the spot well, and giggling, found their way into the lady’s confidence.

“Jontile, Lena, shush!” Charlotte quieted their excitement.

“Milady, why did you bring us here?” the bubbling Jontile asked.

“I’ll tell you, but it must be kept a secret. On my life, you must trust me here.”

“Please tell,” Lena implored her.

“I have your word?”

“You do indeed, ma’am,” she answered.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jontile followed.

“Well, it has come to my attention that Leonas has been unfaithful to his intended bride, Rosaura.”

“Oh why, he’s a knave of the worst sort,” Jontile agreed. “He was fondling my ass just the other day, had me bent over a table in the pantry, poking his fat dick in my port. Humm, it was delicious, but I blushed the next time I saw Rosaura pining for him. You know she is still a virgin. And quite by choice, thinking that her intended husband is as pure as she is.”

“Such innocence is rare in this realm,” Lena added. “After the boy vents his heart to her so passionately, he then turns to any cunt he can find to screw.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve noted,” Charlotte maintained. “That is why he should be exposed to Rosaura so she can find a more worthy lover.”

“At the very least one who is honest,” Lena declared.

“That is my game,” Charlotte said.

“Ooo, I do like this,” Jontile giggled.

“Shush! You’ll give yourself away,” Charlotte admonished before proceeding. “For the next several days, my lovely flirts, the two of you will sneak off with the knave to some semi-private place where you will screw the man silly. You’ll have his dick so wrapped in a knot that he cannot withstand your entreaties. For several days, mind you. Then, you’ll leave him hanging for several more. These times you’ll put him off, but promise another tryst soon. When you finally strike this last time, I will have Rosaura in my confidence, and lead her straight to the place of your rendezvous where she’ll see her fiancé’s passions with her own eyes.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I could break her heart this way,” the kind Jontile suddenly brooded.

“Better you break it now as let her marry the man and find out what a true villain he is.”

“I suppose so,” the flirt answered with a sigh, then she smiled coyly. “And it will be fun for the two of us to screw him. But why so many times?”

“I want you seen by more than just our Rosaura, so that we can confirm the truth that Leonas has been a consistently devious man and not worthy of the love she showers on him.

“Such a righteous plan, and so bold!” Lena suggested.

“She requires a better man,” I said.

“You have one in mind?” Jontile asked.

“Perhaps. I know of several men better than this brute. If only her eyes can be moved away from this hapless oaf.”

For the next three days, the two bawdy flirts seduced the randy Leonas in an obscure corner of the summer garden. Having first found him idly waiting for Rosaura to appear, they steered him away to their covert tryst, sidling up to his handsome body with such enticing movements that the poor man could not prevent himself from his present desire. His prick bloomed almost instantly—his youthful virility had taken its toll trying to remain faithful to the idea of his love’s virginity. It was certainly not the first time he’d been disloyal to Rosaura, but it was by all accounts one of the best. Not only did they lure his ready body, they confused his mind with wine and kept him occupied for nearly two hours.

One a dark-skinned witch, the other of a lighter hue, the two danced for him and on each other. Their draped limbs and the plump jiggle of their breasts soon hypnotized him as they faced each other and rubbed skin against skin. As he stroked his ready cock, their mouths went down on each other’s privates. Lena parted Jontile’s cleft while the dark-haired slave was on hand and knees. Pressing her mouth to the fragrantly oiled openings, Lena’s tongue explored the delicious grooves, and drank from the heady tasting juices until her lips came up wet and her mouth sporting a lusty grin. While her fingers went on to satisfy the flirt, her eyes remained on Leonas drawing him into the act with her inviting expression of welcome.

Soon, the man was too overcome to wait for their direct overtures, he was on their portal doors with his own tongue, pressing his mouth first at Lena’s center and then Jontile’s in turn. While he pleased them with a skillful tongue, the two turned as they could to jointly manipulate his scrotum with their hands and, in turn, swallow the length of his proud erection.

Considering that this was supposed to be a secret meeting, he hardly kept his silence, raising cries that could be heard quite some distance from the hidden corner of the garden. At the first rendezvous, there were at least three persons who stumbled on the scene, and waited in the shadows to see who was fucking and how this copulation would develop.

In the end, Leonas took both women, back and forth. Each was on their hands and knees, while the knave knelt behind them and stabbed his erection from one to the next as though he were unsure in which of the lovely beauties he wanted to deposit his seed. The final result revealed that both pairs of smooth ass cheeks were glistening with the deposit he smeared over their skin.

“Ah! May we have you again tomorrow?” Jontile instilled the plan in his mind.

“Fair ladies, I should not. You know I am betrothed to a most vital virgin.”

“But she cannot fuck you if she’s a virgin! You’re not bound to such law, just she. It must be great to be a man in this world. Here we are—two misplaced sluts with no virtue at all,” Lena sighed as she denounced her unfortunate existence. “If we can just have the dregs of your passion, that is all that we need to survive.” Her eyes toyed with him flirtatiously. Then she lay back so her breasts moved erotically as she breathed in and out. Leonas could not help himself. He had to touch them again.

“Ah, I will take you here again tomorrow,” he assured them both.

“And we’ll keep your mystery to ourselves, sir,” Jontile said, as she moved his way. She crawled on hands and knees, pulling over his torso so that her pale brown breasts were pressed to his face.

“Of course, yes,” he said panting, “keep this to yourself. There is no sense hurting my dear Rosaura.”

“Oh, never!” Lena said, as she pulled the man back to her.

He soon had both flirts groveling with him, their bodies writhing so that his erection was stiff again and he had to relieve himself inside Lena’s hot home.

The next two days the trio met in their hideaway to grovel in the arms and privates of the other. Their muffled cries were often hard to disguise; and there were no less than six spying souls about the castle who were whispering about what they’d seen and heard take place in the hidden garden.

When the flirts denied Leonas a fourth meeting, he was despondent, but agreed that it would be wise not to tempt fate—a fate already set in motion. Only the poor man could not stop now. Days later, he remained obsessed by the trysts and insisted—on pain of punishment—that the two nymphs join him for another lewd session. They finally agreed, knowing that the scoundrel would soon pay for his unfaithfulness.

d

Rosaura was one of few virgin maids in Mountbane’s realm who was not destined for the dungeons. Her father, Sir Ellemore, had made it clear that his youngest daughter would not be subjected to the trials most women in Ilusia were deigned to suffer. Because the poor man’s wife had died, and because he was a most sensible advisor to the court, and simply because Lord Mountbane himself found it rather novel to let this child’s destiny be ruled by her elder’s wishes and not his own, she escaped the intense education required of most young women. This put her in a category of her own, outside the laws of Ilusian nature. Of course, Rosaura knew the rudiments of humility just from living in her society. She was raised to be a compliant and humble young woman; and by her very nature, she was as submissive as a playful kitten—and a thousand times more lovely. Even so, her upbringing was guarded from the sexual extremes so abundant in her world, as if her father thought he might marry her to some prince or nobleman outside Ilusia.

The fair beauty became known for her billowing hair, which in a pale chestnut cascade of curls shimmered far past her shoulders. As the sunlight danced through her locks, it glowed like an angel’s halo, gleaming with a soft and golden hue. Her eyes were wide and blue; her mouth dainty, a bare, pale pink; and her cheeks looked as though she brushed them with the tip of a red rose.

Raised so far from the most brutish elements of her world, she was so wholly innocent and carefree that Rosaura was completely unconscious of her physical endowments and how well she moved inside her gently seductive shape. Early in her teenage years, her breasts had grown plentiful. As she matured into her late teens, her hips flowered naturally, a feature that only enhanced her small waist and the delicate but shapely limbs. As she became more visible about the castle, a hundred eyes of lewd-thinking men gazed at her enrapt by Rosaura’s ability to seduce and still maintain a quality of simple virtuousness. She seemed apart, different from other girls and the older women. Mountbane assured her father that no man would touch her without his permission. As she approached her nineteenth year she was as prime a female as Ilusia had produced in some years; though she remained ignorant of the carnal possibilities of her world and the expectations for its women.

Falling in love with the rogue, Leonas, was like falling into a dream. Like so many dreams, this one was filled with fantasy and illusions that could hardly endure the reality of this vulgar realm. Still, the deception held for nearly a year while the randy son of one of Mountbane’s most randy noblemen privately courted the maid and won her undying affection. Their non-affair was kept a secret from the critical eye of her father—Rosaura thinking this was a naughty rebellious venture for a normally obedient woman. Leonas, himself, was quite itchy to get under the gentle maid’s skirt; though he was duly cautioned by Lord Mountbane to keep the courtship chaste until they were married. For a country used to reckless revelries, blatant debauchery and the sexual enslavement of women, this was quite a thing indeed.

It was no wonder that Mountbane had his eyes on the prize himself; and once viewing the goods, found her chastity so rare and without blemish that he, too, fell in love.

d

Charlotte let the gossip about Leonas and the flirts filter through the kitchens, marketplace, and noble chambers of the Ilusian castle. She fanned the flames several times herself with odd comments sure to spark the interest of those well acquainted with the maid, Rosaura, and her discreet though not so private courtship with Leonas.

A conniving Charlotte remained close to the girl so she’d know when the maid had finally heard the news herself. The older woman sensed the first signs of a gentle heart breaking.

Two afternoons following the last tryst, Charlotte found Rosaura hurriedly on her way toward the market, a basket in her hand, tears in her eyes.

“So despondent, miss,” she observed, catching up to Rosaura.

“No, ma’am.”

“But I feel it, and see tears in your eyes.”

“I cannot hide them, but they do me little good.”

“And what would they be about? Perhaps I could help in this difficulty.”

Rosaura looked so terribly distraught, “Can you make a man mend his ways?” she was nearly consumed with grief.

“Ah, that would be difficult,” Charlotte agreed. “So you have heard the gossip?”

“Do you suppose it’s true?”

“Have you asked Leonas?”

“I haven’t the heart. I love him so. I’m afraid to know the truth.”

“But wouldn’t it be better if you did?”

“How so?”

“I think it’s better to know the heart of a man than be deceived.”

“Then perhaps I should ask.”

Charlotte had changed the young woman’s path, so that instead of entering the marketplace, they were headed toward the castle gardens and the secluded place where she knew the flirts had taken Leonas for their fourth rendezvous. Before they even reached the hidden bower, the two women could hear the faint sound of female laughter.

“Perhaps we should go elsewhere,” Charlotte suggested trying to steer Rosaura away.

“No, I think I hear familiar voices,” the girl disagreed. “If my Leonas is here, there could be no better time than now to confront him.”

What soon appeared before the two woman’s eyes was exactly as Charlotte had planned, and what the young maid feared most. The innocent virgin had expected some playful and flirtatious meeting of Leonas and his tarts. Instead, she turned the corner leading to the secluded alcove seeing Lena, Jontile and her fiancé fornicating in the buff. She stood some minutes with her face concealed by vines, peering into the scene as the pair of sluts were crouched over a reclining Leonas, stroking their brown and milk-white breasts against the man’s rising stalk. Then they alternately took his purple head deep in their mouths and sucked along the sinewy muscle of his shaft. Giggling, they changed places with the other woman moving to Leonas’ face where, straddling his head, she pressed her pussy to his mouth.

Having been guarded from seeing such blatant lewdness, the shocked Rosaura seemed frozen and unable to move from the site. Even when Charlotte tugged her sleeve, she wouldn’t move. “My dear, you should not be seeing this,” Charlotte whispered.

“Yes, but now I know.” She looked as though she were in a trance.

“Then, it is enough.”

“Surely,” she whispered absently. She still didn’t move.

“Rosaura,” Charlotte said again, but the virgin wasn’t budging.

She watched in awe as the man she loved beyond all others rose to his knees, and positioning the flirts so their fanny ends were facing him, took turns violating their lovely behinds. Not only did he scour their wet pussies; he took fingers, greasing them with spices and pressed them to their nether holes in preparation for a deeper dive in pleasure. One to the other and back again, between four holes, the beastly feast proceeded. All three were cawing and squawking like birds at dawn, far too lost in lust to care who might be hearing or peeping at their clandestine debauchery. Leonas climaxed with vigor, punching his enlivened member into Lena’s ass first. Then, even as he shot his cum, he turned away from her plump ass and stuffed his thing into Jontile’s channel for the finish.