1 comments/ 79844 views/ 6 favorites The Count of Cowley Manor By: trevorm It was time to relieve my dear nephew of his riding breeches. Of course the handsome young fellow kicked like a mule in retaliation, causing the overhead beam to creak in protest, it was the least I expected of him; but with his arms suspended above, it was a fairly simple matter to wait for the right moment, approach him from the rear, immobilise him with one arm around his thighs, and with my other, undo his fly. His face was a high colour, betraying his indignation and outrage and he spat venomously at nothing in particular. I ignored this pathetic tantrum and continued with my intention to denude him in front of his pretty young wife who was herself gagged and securely bound to the heavy wooden chair next to an old chest of drawers where I kept my instruments. I could see my actions were having an effect on her, but it was difficult to tell whether her passions were being inflamed in a positive, sensual way because of it, or a negative one, with her wishing me ill will and spite. But she was very worked-up, that much was obvious from her constant fidgeting. However, I cared little for her trifling thoughts at that moment because she shouldn't have been present in the first place. She was an encumbrance I had not bargained for and I was rather peeved at her. However, the flush of hot colour on her husband's boyish face was most enchanting and went some way in compensating me for the interruption and inconvenience she had caused me. His ice-blue eyes flashed their defiance at me at every opportunity, their piercing blueness incredibly striking under his flaxen locks. But this only served to stiffen my prick even more as the thrill of sadism took hold and began to warm my loins in readiness for the salacious adventures ahead. Having undone his fly I took the further liberty of slipping my hand inside his underclothing and feeling him. He had a magnificent nest of hair and it was no surprise to find his magnificent prick in a state of semi-arousal. I knew my actions, despite his vehement protests, were exciting him and arousing his curiosity. How vulnerable he felt, despite his extraordinary dimensions. It was as if I was holding his whole life in my palm, his power to fuck and procreate was at my mercy. How fragile his world appeared to me at that moment. His response to my ribald fumbling was indeed encouraging. I could feel his prick stiffening between my fingers and I anticipated an enjoyable afternoon's entertainment. "Have mercy on us, Uncle Jack," he said, now virtually resigned to his fate. "Please, not in front of Penelope." I was certain his constant wriggling and squirming was as much attributed to his own perverse pleasure, as to his pretence of unwillingness to comply with my wishes. His resistance now was minimal; his movements lacked any real conviction. His continual energy-burning struggles against the bonds that contained his wrists above his head had taken a heavy toll on his physical reserve. "But you are so obviously enjoying what I'm doing to you... Your eager prick here tells me a different story, dear boy. It doesn't lie to me in the way that your mealy-mouth does." "Oh please, Uncle, you shame me. If you must do what you intend to do... then go ahead. But please, Uncle Jack, not in front of my wife. At least blindfold her for her own sake for it may kill her to see me humbled at your hands." "Or even in them," I added, rather saucily and wittily. "I rather fancy she might enjoy the spectacle, young man." I looked across at my nephew's pretty young wife. Her dark brown eyes widened with trepidation and she shook her head. "Well, perhaps not. Although, I still feel it would be educational for her to witness your seduction -- an education for both of you, in fact." "No, Uncle Jack! You may do anything to me, but please spare Penelope from seeing my defilement. If you have an ounce of pity in your bones, you will spare her from witnessing the two of us in intimate and obscene conflict, sir!" "You are in no position to request favours, Nicholas. It is I who will do the bargaining, all you have to do is agree to whatever I have in mind. I have you exactly where I want you, dear boy. I have planned meticulously to get you into this situation and I am hardly likely to abandon my intentions now just because of some pathetic protest from you and the unforeseen presence of your wife. However, my soul is not in complete absence of pity. "It is most unfortunate that Penelope chose to arrive at such a critical time; but arrive she did and I have to deal with it. I am still committed to achieving my goal. I think you understand I had no choice but to subdue her, tie her up and keep her with us until it's all over. I'm sorry for any fright or discomfort I have caused her, but I will release you both as soon as I've sated my desire." I paused to assess the size of his considerable gonads (for he was hung like a bull in the testicular sense), weighing them alternately in my palm. I then continued with my rhetoric... "You have considerable assets, young man, and I don't need to spell out in what sense I mean that. I am suitably impressed by your physical attributes and I know they will provide me with the utmost pleasure in the coming hour or so. If Penelope didn't know before, and I suspect at only nineteen years of age her experience of the more sophisticated, but darker side of sensuality is somewhat limited, she will soon become enlightened by what I have in mind for you. I would very much like her to see that a man, a husband, can be equally pleased by another man. It is not so naturally a woman's gift or prerogative to be able to satisfy the male of the species. We are adequately equipped to perform that function -- if called for." "Oh my God!" "Tell you what, though... If you promise to always avail yourself of my urges in future, I'll blindfold Penelope right now and we will continue in her blissful ignorance. What do you say to that?" Nicholas didn't answer right away. He seemed suddenly to be in a state of limbo, lost in a moment of blind ecstasy. I fancy my continual ribald and suggestive dialogue was playing havoc with his mind. I began manipulating his testicles in a slightly threatening fashion. They felt heavy, possibly laden with pent-up, frustrated spunk. I wondered just how much molten seed he would release when I finally led him to an intense orgasm. "Well?" I compressed his balls together, urging him to give me a positive reply. "Agghh!" Nicholas's face contorted in the throes of pain. He snapped out of his self-indulgent reverie and once again gave me his undivided attention. "W-what do you want me to say?" he said, blearily. He sounded resigned and fatigued. "Do we have a deal? Or will it take a few really firm squeezes to get you to agree to my proposition? I can cause you intense discomfort if I have to." "No, that won't be necessary, Uncle. Ugghh! Please let me go. You are very persuasive, sir..." Nicholas had suddenly come awake, but he paused to catch his breath, which was now coming in short, urgent pants. "You can have me whenever you want. I'll subject myself to your whims whenever you like, Uncle, but please release your grip and do the honourable thing -- blindfold Penelope." "Of course," I said, finally, although somewhat reluctantly freeing his remarkable genitalia from my grasp and making my way over to the tool chest next to Penelope, where besides various torture implements, I kept several useful accessories and adornments - in this case a fur-trimmed sleeper's blindfold. It is a useful aid for concentrating the mind and to heightening the sensual sensations a skilled torturer like myself, can bring upon a person's flesh. But in this case it was to be used for its most basic function -- deprivation of sight. I fitted it snugly around her eyes, smoothing it out, ensuring that it was both comfortable and fit for purpose. "Perhaps I ought to block your ears too, my dear... Hmm? What do you think?" Penelope shook her head. "What? You mean you'd rather hear your husband's cries of supplication, his sighs of surrender, his bellows of ultimate relief?" She didn't answer, so I took her silence to be in the affirmative. "So be it," I said. "Listen to your beloved one succumb to his uncle's caresses, if that's what you want." My gaze fell to her magnificent bosom. I watched it rise and fall for a few seconds, visual evidence of her aggravated and excited breathing. I could not resist feeling her wonderful assets, which, though hidden in a pretty floral summer dress, were admirably defined, full and ripe to the touch, and suitably impudent in outline. I could hear her muffled protests behind the gag as I squeezed the plump, warm mounds unhindered and felt for her protruding nipples. Even through her dress and chemise I could feel their bullet-like stature. They were proud and magnificent, like two miniature soldiers standing to attention. I wondered then, if her cunt was also speaking well of her at that very moment in time. Her eyes flashed their anger and outrage and it happily stimulated my prick no end. It was a mouth-watering sight watching her pathetically inadequate responses to my outrageous familiarities with her breasts. Her body jerked delightfully but hopelessly against her bonds allowing my libido to be cranked up to the very limit. But I had to save myself for Nicholas. I could enjoy Penelope later if I so wished, perhaps even save her for another day. My head was full of such sadistic delight and licentious anticipation that I suddenly felt quite light-headed and had to steady myself against the tool chest. As soon as I had gathered my wits I left Penelope to herself and approached my nephew, who was himself visibly steaming at witnessing his wife's abuse at my practiced and tormenting hands. But the long-awaited moment was fast approaching. It was high time I completed the seduction of my handsome young charge. End of Chapter New Chapter I yanked my nephew's riding breeches all the way down and pulled the leggings free of his feet. Then I relieved him of his underclothing, freeing his monstrous prick which bobbed and danced with a hot pulse in a the narrow shaft of sunlight that was pouring in through a gap in the roof. There were motes of dust swirling in the beam of light. His eager prick reminded me of a hungry bird, impatient to be fed and watered, longing for attention, urgent for relief. It was a magnificent sight and I was tempted to fellate him immediately. But I wanted to draw out his ordeal and extract the maximum sadistic pleasure by enforcing his seduction. Only then would I allow him the ultimate pleasure. "A fine specimen, my boy." I said, drawing myself up to his full six feet and meeting his eyes. "You are extremely lucky to have been born with such a gift. The gods have indeed smiled upon you." "It used to embarrass me, Uncle. I was afraid of anyone seeing it and then being called a freak." "It is only men with small cocks that should fear ridicule. Yours is something to be proud of. I have never seen such a magnificent beast." "Thank you, sir." "Is it the cause of any marital distress?" "As far as I know, Uncle, Penelope is very happy with the physical side of our marriage." "She is well appointed?" "Indeed she is, sir." I walked round behind my cousin and began feeling his well-muscled rump. His cheeks clenched and unclenched as my hand wandered across the summits. He had the narrow hips of a matador, the cock of a bull, the arse muscles of an Olympian sprinter. How I longed to penetrate him and rub his cock, fuck him until my molten seed spurted deep into his bowels. I parted his arse cheeks to get a peek at the crown jewel. And there it was, seemingly winking at me in the hairy, humid cleft. I bent over to smell his odour, quite pungent in this heightened state of arousal. My prick twitched and stiffened at his maleness. I undid my fly and released my semi-erect charger. I paraded slowly and deliberately in front of him, fisting myself to draw out the length, squeezing the shaft to exaggerate the knob. But I was no match for him in that department, yet I knew I could easily thrill him with what I had, maybe even hurt him. I arranged my genitalia so that my balls as well as my cock were exposed and hanging lewdly outside my tights. In this attitude I could project an air of insolence and menace to my hapless victim which would suitably intensify his humiliation. I went over to my tool chest and fetched a thick leather belt from the second drawer. I ran it through my fingers and palm noting its suppleness, its coolness. I sniffed it, savouring the seductive smell of leather. I cracked it through the air, and stepped towards Nicholas. I aligned myself face to face with him, close enough to feel his breath on my face. I allowed the heavy iron-buckle to dangle on his cock, which by this time seemed to have lost some of its fervour, but still looked magnificent in its semi-erect state. In fact, it is always my favourite condition when appraising the qualities of a nice prick. "Kiss me, sweet nephew," I said, matter-of-factly, while I playfully menaced his genitals with the large iron buckle. When he didn't respond to my request I stepped back and aimed a couple of quick flicks to his cock and balls with the leather end of the belt. His yelp of pain registered with Penelope, who visibly squirmed at her husband's brief distress. "Kiss me, Nicholas," I repeated. "Otherwise I will hurt you more." He relented and offered his lips in a kissing gesture. I accepted. A first kiss is always special to me, but Nicholas was holding back, his lips clamped tight. I drew away. "Kiss me properly, nephew, as you would your dear wife." I made a loop with the belt and cradled his great balls as if in a hammock. I tightened the loop. His mouth came open and then we were kissing as lovers should. My tongue entered his mouth and we sparred, as if with swords, tongue against tongue. When mine retreated, a little tightening of his balls told him that it was probably a good idea to follow my tongue with his and reciprocate the favour. He did, and splendidly so. When I was satisfied he'd fulfilled my request I released his balls and stepped back. "There, dear boy, that's better. It's so much better to be intimately acquainted, isn't it?" "Yes, Uncle." "Kiss the belt that is to humble you." He did so. I tickled the leather end across his chest. The central hollow of his breastbone was wet with sweat His whole upper body in fact, had a beautiful golden sheen and seemed to define his muscles quite magnificently. His nipples stood out like gun pellets. I fingered them, noting their tightness and texture in contrast to the smoothness of his torso. I plumped them even more with some skilled agitation, and then took aim with my belt. The swollen, pinky-brown nubs made enticing targets and I couldn't resist the challenge. I administered half-a-dozen sharp flicks, three to each nipple and watched them darken and bruise before my eyes. Nicholas whimpered like a chastised dog. I took the nipples in my mouth, each one in turn, and soothed them, swirling by tongue around the tender points of flesh. They tasted deliciously sweet, which was in marked contrast to the saltiness of his body sweat. When I had made my peace with them I slid like a snake down his torso, trailing my tongue wetly towards his navel. I swirled it around the hard knot of flesh in its little salty pit. As I worked my tongue around I looked up at him and met his eyes. It was the moment when I knew he was ready to surrender himself completely and, despite his captivity, willingly. He was mine for the taking. Then I followed the narrow track of pubic hair that led from his navel to his crotch until I was on my knees. I lay the belt on the ground beside his feet and placed my hands behind him and upon his buttocks and drew him towards me. His long, pendulous cock dangled before me. It smelled of man sex, slightly fishy. Already his early pre-sex secretions were drying in tiny snail-trails around the knob. Nicholas needed reviving and I took his magnificent beast between my lips and began fellating him. He was deliciously savoury, with a faint taste of urine to add an element of spice to the mix. There's nothing quite like tasting and feeling a soft cock come alive in one's mouth. He became erect very quickly and I almost gagged with the rapid transformation of his organ. I could have continued and taken him to orgasm, but my immediate aim was to keep him aroused and interested while I amused myself with other activities before the grand-finale. I had yet to prepare him for a delicious bottom-fucking. I released him from my mouth, his cock now saliva-wet, springing to attention, a shining ivory tower of man-flesh. I almost felt compelled to salute; such was its supreme stateliness. I moved behind him and eyed his superbly muscled buttocks. I always like to whip an arse before fucking it, to tenderise the rump. It raises the intended receptacle for my desire to an agreeable temperature and increases comfort for the protagonist, if not the victim. The exquisite warmth caused by a good spanking or whipping makes the penetration so much more pleasurable. But burying oneself to the hilt inside a hot and throbbing posterior is too delicious to be able to describe with any justice. Suffice to say, it is one of the great pleasures in life and no man worth his salt should be denied such a unique experience. At a calculated guess, I estimated Nicholas to be a virgin in that department. His deflowering would be an exquisite, almost divine experience. I took up the belt again and began teasing his arse-cheeks with the heavy iron buckle, mentally plotting where I would plant the first lashes when they came. His buttocks clenched and unclenched with nervous tension. I could feel the sadistic delight rising like a demon inside me. I coiled the belt around my right hand and drew back my arm to take aim. The belt fizzed through the air, landing plum on the right summit. The sound of leather striking flesh is both evocative and seductive. But there came no sound or movement from Nicholas and I wondered whether I had suddenly lost my touch. It is so satisfying to elicit a high-pitched yelp from a victim, particularly a brave, handsome young man, but this was not forthcoming. Had my first effort lacked the necessary velocity to rouse him? I coiled the belt once again, winding it up for the next whip. A pink stripe was already forming from my first attack and my second strike, this time harder, was aimed rather cruelly at exactly the same spot and this had the effect of making my nephew draw a sharp intake of breath and I gleaned some encouragement from this. But I was surprised to hear him suddenly break the otherwise silent atmosphere with a calm, clear and articulate voice: "Beat me well, Uncle. Beat me raw and then fuck me hard, sir! It's no less than I deserve for my humbling at your hands, for you have cleverly shamed me, reduced my status and prepared me for what is God's will. Please do not be lenient with me." "Are you begging me?" "Yes sir, I am." "Very well." Penelope was shaking her head on hearing her husband's declaration of surrender. Her brief protest, as demonstrated by her pointless and energy-sapping struggles against her bonds, only spurred me on to even greater salaciousness. Nicholas had given me carte blanche to punish him as I pleased and I thus began laying into him. Each whip of flashing leather was met by a soft inward sigh of ecstasy from my lover-in-waiting. In fact I felt so intoxicated with lust that I almost lost control. I quickly worked myself into a frenzy, a sadistic orgy of arse-whipping and before I knew it my selected target was a mass of stripes, welts and bruises. I suddenly came to myself and immediately stopped the thrashing, breathlessly casting my weapon aside. My face was hot with excitement. I needed to let the red mist clear and regain control of myself. The Count of Cowley Manor Pt. 02 Chapter Five I kneeled behind him and began slicking him up, licking him with long, upwards caresses, and then when I was ready, forcing my tongue through the tight ring of muscle before driving through into his hole, tasting him, faint traces of bitter shit. I felt him move in response and appreciation. When I had him nicely prepared I spat into my hands and slicked my cock with salve. Positioning myself behind him I rubbed it up and down his humid cleft, getting the feel of him and teasing his hole into the bargain. I would threaten to penetrate him and then take it away, sliding up to the top of his crack then back again to do the same thing. But I could not hold back much longer and was soon grasping his hips and with one good thrust I had him fully corked. He gave out a small grunt, and then sighed. Oh, how joyously welcoming his rectum felt... slick, warm and expectant, and his tortured arse cheeks hot against my groin. "There, dear boy. I now have my cock inside you. Tell me how it feels to have your beloved uncle actually fucking you." "It is not at all unpleasant, sir," he gasped. "It is only as if I have the urge to relieve myself, but that is all. Give it to me hard. Make me feel it and make it hurt. You know it's what I deserve for the pathetically meek resistance I have shown. I am surrendering to you, sir. Please make me pay the ultimate penalty." His words fired me with brutal lust. I began pumping him in earnest like he had requested. "Can you feel my hungry cock moving inside you, Nicholas?" I said breathlessly. "There is some sensation, Uncle. Errggh! Ah, yes... that's better, like that again. Harder!" "You are a delicious fuck, sweet nephew, make no mistake. Such a pity that your dear wife cannot pleasure you in this way, don't you agree?" I looked over at Penelope for a reaction, because I was deliberately baiting her. But she was now beyond redemption and resigned to her husband's fate. She remained unmoved, accepting the inevitable. Nicholas began to respond, picking up the rhythm of my thrusts, so that when I pushed in, he in turn pushed back against me, and when I receded, his arse then responded accordingly, allowing me to slide my prick outwards so that the knob was just about lodged inside his ring, ready to be driven to the hilt once again. He was born to it, a natural passive. His rectum gloved me perfectly, warm and tight, almost sucking me in as if having a life of its own. It would take much discipline not to cum too soon. I did so want to savour every second of this special occasion, the gratuitous plundering of his sex and thus the surrender of his virginity to another male. I altered my angle of attack so that there was some pressure on his prostate. At the same time I put my right hand under his perineum and massaged the gland from the outside. I wanted to synchronise our orgasms for our mutual and maximum pleasure. I was pumping even harder now, the sound of my balls slapping his arse creating a nice tempo in the afternoon quiet of the stables. The only other sounds were my nephew's persistent grunting in response to my thrusts, and one of the horses occasionally neighing and stamping, as if aware of the debauchery taking place in its presence - perhaps a kind of jealous equine protest on its part. I felt the delicious moment approaching. I kissed the boy's neck, tasting the salt sweat that was beaded there. Then I sank my teeth into the flesh and began love-biting him hard, so severely and passionately that I swear I drew his blood before I relented. I took his magnificent stiff prick in my hand and began rubbing him, slow and long strokes to begin with (for he was exceptionally long in the shaft), while I judged the moment that was fast approaching. Then I shortened the stroke and increased the speed as my violent and deep penetrations pounded him towards a glorious conclusion. His cries of painful pleasure greeted every one of my thrusts and the steady increase in their volume as he approached that delicious moment rang out among the old rafters and told me that this was now the time to complete our sacred union. At first, I felt the pulsing of his orgasm transmuting through his prostate into his rectum just as my climax was rising to the boil. I peered over his shoulder to see a continuous fountain of youthful spunk erupting from the head of his cock, a long, looping arc of pearly white cum that rose at least two feet into the air before splashing down onto the straw-covered ground. I bit viciously into his shoulder as now my own sperm began bubbling forth, in short sharp jerks. I held his hips firm as my guts appeared to melt away from me and I shot intensely into his hole, injecting my sperm deep into his hot bowels. I felt his ring palpitating, gripping the base of my cock, extracting from me every last goodness from my balls. His own orgasm had now subsided into a few fitful spits which I gathered in my palm and smeared along his throbbing shaft. "Consider yourself initiated, young man," I gasped into his ear as if I'd just run a four minute mile. I was breathless and totally spent. The sweat dripped off his nape and onto my chest, settling on the hairs like morning dew on grass. I extracted myself from his exhausted body with a soft airtight 'pop' and immediately winched him down from the beam. He fell in a heap on the floor, his wrists pure white under the thick cord that encircled them. I hauled him to his knees and presented my soiled cock to his lips. "Thank you, sir," he said, taking me into his mouth. He seemed to know instinctively what I wanted of him and he proceeded to clean, sterilise and soothe my sore prick to my complete satisfaction. I was too exhausted to be taken to a second orgasm so soon, which was a pity, so lovingly did he suck on my cock... and he would have done so for he was now a very willing young man. When we were done I untied his wrists and rubbed the feeling back into them, the colour coming back to the surface of the skin like raspberry powder poured into a glass of milk. I offered him a tot of whiskey to fortify him and he accepted gratefully, choking it back in one gulp. Then I helped him to his feet and tossed him his clothing. I then allowed him to free Penelope and they locked together in a loving embrace. She seemed to be beyond anger now, happy in her husband's arms at last, relieved that his ordeal as well as hers was over. I told them to go and get washed and ready for the evening meal in the great hall and off they went, staggering out into the bright sunlight. They were young and healthy. They would both soon recover. All was well. I had completed the first part of Nicholas's conversion and somehow avoided the wrath of his 'wronged' wife. It seemed to me she had accepted the episode with good grace. After all, it was hardly the sort of honeymoon they were both expecting. I looked around me, the scene that had been the backdrop to my conquest and felt a certain sense of smugness at my triumph. I noticed the little puddles of semen scattered about the floor and vowed to myself that never again would I waste a drop of my nephew's precious nectar. I then dressed, tidied away the props, mopped up and went outside the stables to take my regular pre-supper stroll. I looked around me, taking in the evening air which was heavy with the fortifying scent of summer flowers. I took a deep breath and felt the strength returning to my bones. I then put my hands behind my back, started whistling a happy tune and commenced my walk through the luxuriant gardens of the manor, privately planning my next foray. (...to be continued...) The Count of Cowley Manor Pt. 03 Debauchery in the Library I found Penelope in the library, relaxing with a book: History of the Russian Empire, Volume One - a pet subject of mine. Nicholas had gone off fishing for the day with Penelope's brother -- Christopher - who had decided to join the party for a few days before continuing his way to the South of France where he was to take his annual vacation. He too, was a good-looking fellow of 23, with his long black hair tied in a ponytail which shone with various shades of reds and hints of gold every time the sunlight caught it. He was two years older than Nicholas and twelve years younger than I. He had been the best man at his sister's wedding and had joined us after seeing to some urgent business matters. He and Nicholas, with no little encouragement from myself, had decided to fish Cowley Lake for carp, a subject with which I was well acquainted. There were some fine specimens in the pond, the best of them running upwards of forty pounds. I had advised them on the best spots and methods that were most likely to yield good fish. I had been pleased to observe that Nicholas and I seemed to be on good terms after his ordeal at my hands. In fact I was surprised how quickly he had come round, showing me great courtesy and warmth. Even Penelope seemed to bear me no malice, and I even detected in her a sense of fairness and affection towards me. I found this encouraging and was determined to take advantage of her good nature as soon as possible for she was a sweet little thing, and although my feelings inclined towards young men rather than young women, I felt she would nonetheless offer some reasonable entertainment during the interim of main events. She was lounging on one of the heavily-upholstered leather armchairs, looking as pretty as a picture. She lolled back in the seat with one leg casually crossed over the other, a gesture I rather fancy had more than an element of design about it, for her frock had ridden up just above the knee and looked quite provocative. She had on yet another of her pretty floral dresses from her travelling collection. The design was quite daring, with a high hem and low neckline which showcased her fine calves and slim ankles and creamy white bubbies quite beautifully. She wore sandals of a kind that you sometimes saw in prints of ancient Egyptian etchings, depicting masters and their entourage of slaves. They contained her feet in a gesture of symbolic bondage, the straps criss-crossing and appearing to cut into her flesh; though this was apparently an illusion because she looked perfectly comfortable in them. But they tended to make her look appealing to me in a subservient way. She looked up from her book. Her neck was swan-like in elegance and her face radiated glowing health beneath the creamy complexion. I sensed a mixture gaiety and mischief in her sparkling eyes and easy smile. She seemed pleased to see me. "Mr Jack... I didn't hear you come in." "I hope I'm not intruding, my dear. I just popped in for a book. I thought you were out walking." This was a lie. I knew very well where she had secreted herself away, for I had been watching her closely all morning, a fact that she was well aware of. She had been flitting about me at a distance all morning, giving me the look, playing with her hair and angling her head coyly, like some affected teenager, which in a way, she was. I knew she was giving me positive signals and wanted me to follow her and find her; but of course, now I'd actually caught up with her we were to maintain a charade of ignorance. I indicated the book she was holding. "An excellent choice." "It's a fascinating story. You have a fine collection, sir." "Please... call me Jack... not sir, or Mr Jack. Just Jack... at least for the time we are alone together." "Alone?" "As the men are out fishing for the day and we are unlikely to be disturbed, it might be nice to take this opportunity to get to know each other better. Perhaps we could talk awhile?" "As you wish, Jack. And what would you like to talk about?" "You, my dear. You interest me. I bet you have led a fascinating life." She blushed deliciously at my flattery. "Me..? I've lived no life. Why, I'm only just nineteen. What kind of life could I possibly have had that would interest a man of the world like yourself?" "You'd be surprised." Penelope laughed gaily, closed the book and put in on the little table next to her. "Come on then... What would you like to know?" "You must at least have dreams, Penelope? Everybody has dreams." "Ooh, only boring ones I'm afraid." "But there must be something you can tell me... about married life perhaps..? Your relationship with Nicholas? And what about your handsome brother? I'd wager there were a few things you could tell me about him." "I could, but I'd rather leave it to him to blow his own trumpet. I suppose he is rather dashing - at least, to other women. He is only my brother after all." Penelope suddenly looked troubled. "Actually Jack... There is one thing..." "Yes?" "It is a matter of some delicacy. If I am to discuss it with you, I would need your assurance that you will not breathe a word to anybody else... particularly Nicholas." "Penelope, my dear. I am the very soul of discretion. What you tell me in confidence will go no further than these four walls. I give you my word." "Thank you. It concerns my relationship with my husband. Something is different now." "In what way?" "Ever since you held us both prisoner and forced yourself upon Nicholas, his attitude towards me has changed. On our wedding night he was considerate and attentive towards me, but now, ever since the episode in the stables a few days ago, he seems colder. He still makes love to me, but it isn't me, if you know what I mean." "Go on." "I mean, he goes through the motions, but I feel his heart and mind are somewhere else and that I am only an object, an instrument for sating his desire. I feel like I'm being used. Sometimes I feel he is making love to me but imagining I am someone else." "That is perfectly natural from time to time with some people." "Is it? He almost works himself into a fury, banging me - for want of a better word - banging me with his manhood, that obscene truncheon, as if he was trying to punish me with it.. take out his fury, his bad feelings on me. "One night, he stopped in the middle of making love and he rolled me onto my front and tried to enter me from behind." "Do you mean, enter you normally, but from the rear? Or did he try to actually penetrate your behind." "The latter. He'd never shown any inclination or interest in that direction before. Even the times before we were married. That's why I was quite horrified." "Did he succeed in penetrating you there?" "No. At first I just lay there wondering what he wanted to do. But that soon became obvious when I felt where he was trying to put his penis. Oh dear, I can't believe I'm telling you this." "As I said, what we talk about in this room today... will go no further. You were saying?" "Yes, that he was trying to bugger me. But he was rough and he frightened me. You know how big he is. How could I possibly accommodate him like that?" "The humble bottom is resilient, my dear, and capable of some amazing feats. It has a wonderful capacity for punishment and abuse." "I wondered if it was of because of what you did to him?" "Do you know what I did to him?" "No, and he won't talk about it. But I think I can guess." "You think I buggered him?" "Well... did you?" "Would you think any more of me if I told you?" "I'm not sure. But I have to admit that the thought of you doing it to him while I was tied up did have an effect on me. I thought I'd be angry, outraged. And I was at the time. I hated you and I should still hate you, but I don't. I sometimes lie in bed when Nicholas is asleep, thinking about you using him in that way. I think about you abusing him while I'm tied up and made to watch. But I don't get angry. It makes me feel funny, but in a nice way. I imagine you playing with his helpless body and me trying wriggle free to help him. But I can't. The ropes are tied too well and I can only wriggle and watch you at work. But it's all exciting. How can we enjoy things that are bad." "Maybe they're not bad at all. Maybe it's the way we have been conditioned to accept certain fixed ideas. People who make these rules want you to feel bad about enjoying things that are different, where our actions appear to go against convention. What is bad and evil to one man is good and acceptable to another." "I'm not sure I understand. I mean why should we enjoy things that hurt us? And why should we have to hurt somebody just to gain satisfaction?" "I don't know. We are born into this world as an innocent, all of us. But somewhere along the line something may happen, an experience that completely changes our view of things. We feel uncomfortable because we are surprised we are capable of such indecent acts, apparently normal people committing perversions and debauchery. There are two sides of the fence, as there are two sides two everything. What side we come down on depends largely on the influences we are subjected to through life, by design or accident, but usually by accident. We have a free will, but we will tend to sway one way more than the other. One side to our personality will be stronger than the other and in the end the stronger side will win out." I could see that I'd lost Penelope somewhere, for she stared at me with vacant eyes, empty that is, apart from a burning lust that seemed to have turned her dark brown eyes almost black. It was almost as if she'd become transfixed by me. I could feel the heat coming off her, a woman's scent, a sexual fragrance that perked my prick up no end. "Would you care for a glass of sherry before lunch, my dear?" I said, breaking the spell that had seemingly been cast over her. She blinked, her eyes cleared and she was back in the real world. "Pardon?" "Would you care to join me in a sherry before lunch?" I repeated. "That would be nice, Jack. Why not?" I went to the writing bureau where I kept a bottle of Gibson's finest Old Tawny. I gave Penelope a schooner, and poured myself the same. "Mmm, that's lovely and sweet, and wonderfully warm as it goes down." "It's very fortifying. I get the feeling that you need bolstering after your frightening experience." "You mean in the stables?" "No... I meant your narrow escape from being sodomized." "Oh that. Nicholas frightened me with his brutality, but it still excited me. I think I'd like to try it some time, but I don't want to be bullied into it, especially if it's painful." "It shouldn't be. Not if you go about it in the right way, with the right preparation." "But Nicholas has such a brute of a cock." And suddenly, Penelope paused, having realised her indiscretion in the use of the word 'cock'. It was a good sign. It meant she was loosening up and would soon be ripe for plucking. Or should that be fucking? "I'm sorry about that," she said, colouring beautifully." "There's no need to apologise, my dear. At least, not on my account. I always believe in calling a spade a spade and a cock a cock." She laughed gaily again, brushed some imaginary specks off her knee and took a good swig of her sherry. Her eyes sparkled with youthful vitality and with the enthusiasm of a young woman eager to learn about life, particularly its darker, more sensual side. I couldn't help looking at her shapely legs. Her frock had ridden higher by a couple of inches in the time I'd been sitting with her. She knew I was looking but showed not the slightest sign of disapproval. In fact, she had a rather provocative way of fidgeting about on the chair that was greatly responsible for maintaining my increasingly painful erection. I was quite surprised. I find very few ladies intellectually attractive, and even less of them, sexually appealing, although I enjoy their company. But Penelope was different and interesting and was inducing me to think all manner of indecent thoughts about her. The bible states in The Lord's Prayer: "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil..." But how many potentially exciting opportunities would we forego if we followed that maxim as religiously as it was intended? I have my own modification to the that particular decree... "Lead us into temptation, Dear Lord, and deliver us to evil.. otherwise we may never know such pleasures that await us..." There is a saying that the devil looks after his own. I believe there is more than a modicum of truth in this. At least there is where I am concerned. I have no illusions on which side of the fence I came down upon. From what Penelope had been relating to me, I had succeeded in turning Nicholas's head. It is a phenomenon to which I have attributed the label: "mind-fucking" and I do believe that the infecting of somebody's mind, their soul and sensibilities so that what was once abhorrent to them then becomes the very thing they come to love and embrace, is a fascinating and fathomless subject. When this happens - the seduction and corruption of the soul - it is in many ways a more satisfying outcome than the purely physical conquest of a person. I refilled our glasses and asked Penelope to join me on the chaise longue. I plumped up a cushion behind her and she sat at ease, removing her sandals and tucking her feet under her folded legs in an attitude of gay abandon. I sat at the open end and eyed her ever more revealing thighs deliberately and unashamedly, for this is what she wanted from me. I could smell the womanly odour exuding from her pores. "If you truly would like to try entry from behind, and you are worried about Nicholas's size, I could help you." Penelope fluttered her eyelids. "In what way, Jack?" "I could help relax you... ease the path, so to speak. You see, sometimes a lady needs a little stretching to start with, a period of conditioning. There are a number of ways to achieve this. Sometimes a set of inserts is used. This consists of a series of plugs, of varying sizes and diameters, that are inserted into the bottom and then kept in place by a night-belt while the lady sleeps. Each subsequent night a plug of a larger diameter is used until the lady feels she has been 'opened' enough and confident she can accept her husband's penis comfortably. The plugs have a flanged end so that they are not lost inside the body, but are held in place so that the largest diameter of the plug keeps the bottom hole open until such time it is removed." "That sounds dreadfully painful." "Not if you are well lubricated my dear. In fact many women report that they find the process of being stretched in this way highly stimulating. I too, have used this method, although I always prefer to be eased naturally." "What other options are available to me?" "Finger massage is quite effective. But to be frank, the best method of stretching and easing is by the act itself, preferably with a man of suitable size." "Are you offering, Jack?" "I'm simply making a suggestion, my dear... that is all. However, I would be only to pleased to help out if I can. It would be in your interest to include the anal technique in your lovemaking repertoire. Men adore anal intercourse. If you are able to accommodate a man in this way, you will afford him the most wonderful pleasures, not forgetting, my dear, the exquisite sensations that you will also experience." "Hmm, you do make it sound all rather exciting, Jack." Penelope shifted in her seat, as if some agitation was affecting her. Her frock slipped yet another inch higher. She made no attempt to retrieve it. "Drink up my, dear... Will you have one more?" "I really shouldn't, Jack. I shall be as silly as a pudding. Then what will you think of me?" "I will think of you as being no different to when I first set eyes on you, and certainly no different to the charming lady I have come to know in the last half-an-hour. You are pretty beyond description, Penelope, and I would be deeply honoured if you would join me in one more glass before I condition your bottom and prepare it for mightier things." "Oh, Jack... you're such a flatterer. You seem to know when to say just the right things." I filled our glasses for the third time. I judged that after this sherry Penelope would give herself freely. But I had little interest in her cunt, which, delightful as it most surely was, was not an object of my immediate desire. But I have to say, it had already begun to exude a delightful fragrance to which I found myself extremely attracted. I have quite a sensitive nose for such things, and mixed with the excited perspiration of her body, the heady cocktail of smells, coupled with the warming effect of the sherry, the effect was powerful enough to make me feel deliciously wanton and merry. I watched her sip her third sherry, her eyes becoming ever darker with lust, and mentally ran through what lay immediately ahead -- the taking of her anal virginity. Oh to rob her of her sweet innocence, she was like a fly caught in a web, a moth in the flame, a lamb to the slaughter. My cock was swollen, painful with lust. The urge to leave my mark in her delightful bottom was overwhelming. "You have fine legs, my dear," I said staring at the expanse of thigh now on display. "Thank you... Oh, I'm sorry." She made a charade of only now pretending to notice her raised skirt and restored her dignity my pulling down her hem. "No need for that, my dear. I am very partial to a nice pair of legs. You can show me more, if you like." She laughed out loud and tossed her head back, snatching her hem upwards and back again to show a flash of her undergarments in a kind of sexual tease. I caught sight the white flesh where the stockings ended and knickerbockers began. The wafting fragrance of her moistening sex assailed my nostrils. I leaned towards her and kissed her on her cheek, she looked kind of surprised and before she could recover from my boldness, I gathered her in my arms, held her in a passionate embrace and kissed her, our tongues swirling against each other like eels in a jar. I lifted her frock and marvelled at the soft skin of her plump thighs, so different to a man's hardness. The rough gauze of her stockings made a startling contrast to the smooth white flesh of her thigh. I fiddled playfully with the protruding bobble-catch, threatening to unfasten it. But I was only teasing. I've always preferred to fuck a woman while she is partially dressed, and at least wearing shoes, stockings and camisole, which are easy enough to negotiate without removing completely. The friction that nylon brings to the flesh affords me a very agreeable and sensual pleasure. I sometimes have my men attired in ladies underwear for this very reason alone and a pretty stocking and suspender looks very good on a shapely male leg. She pulled away, apparently gasping for air. She said breathlessly: "If you want to bugger me, Jack... I think you ought to at least tie me down. I may need restraining because if I struggle and hinder you I may cause myself more harm than good. I want your aim to be true, and not like Nicholas's, brutishly clumsy and crude efforts the other night." My cock twitched in response to her suggestion. "It will be an absolute honour and pleasure to render you helpless, my dear. I promise to secure you comfortably so that I may take you as clean as a whistle. You need not fear." This fitted in perfectly with my plan to pre-warm her rump with a light whipping before violating her delectable bottom-hole with a good fucking. "Now, take your frock off for me." She did so, feigning coyness beautifully. "And remove your undergarments, all apart from your camisole, stockings and suspender belt. And you must have your shoes on, that is important. I would have preferred you in heeled shoes, but I will make an exception for your sandals on this occasion." The Count of Cowley Manor Pt. 03 She did as she was bade. She looked delightful in what remained of her clothing, and in a state of what I have come to term: "suitable attired for fucking." She was an absolute joy, full of youthful exuberance and vitality, mixed with a seething undercurrent of unfulfilled lust. I could not have wished for more as far as womanly appeal was concerned. I had her climb up on the chaise longue and asked her to face the closed end on all fours. Then I put the cushion against the end and told her to rest her head on it. I had her bring her knees up under her chest. I told her not to move while I fetched some cord and a knife from the bureau. I trussed her like a turkey, tying her wrists to her thighs just above the knee. In this position she was rendered helpless as far as her limbs were concerned, but she had the liberty of lateral movement, although this would only allow her to roll off. I would need nothing more than one firm hand to keep her positioned correctly for her adventure. Her posterior was presented beautifully to me. It begged to be flogged and her camiknickers, hanging loosely and prettily around her plump thighs looked extremely fetching. It would be a simple matter to move these enough to the side to get my cock into her sweet little arsehole. I planned to whip her twin moons through the knickers with my trouser belt first, to warm the flesh. As some of you will already be aware, it is a ploy of mine to fire up the flesh of a man or woman with a good spanking or whipping as I do enjoy the agreeable feel of a hot bottom against my groin when my cock is buried deep inside. I sat behind Penelope for a few moments while I ran my hand over her silk-clad backside, and then under her perineum where I felt the humidity gathering about her cunt. Her womanly odour was divine and promised as exquisite flavour. She moaned appreciatively as I pushed my fingers through the silk up into her slit. I caressed her softly and said: "I'm going to whip your bottom first, Penelope. It will only be a light flogging over your camiknickers, just to warm you up." She did not murmur, but she kind of rocked her bottom from side to side in a gesture of defiance, arrogance and insolence, as if she was daring me to carry out the flogging forthwith. I did not disappoint her. I took off my belt right away, kneeled behind her and wound half of it around my hand to get a good grip. And then I laid into her with a nice round dozen carefully aimed licks which had her whimpering, but nothing more. She clearly enjoyed being treated this way. I tossed the belt aside, eased her camiknickers to the side and poured the dregs of my sherry down the crack of her arse. Then I licked it up and lubricated her tight little hole at the same time. Her smell was potent and divine and I wondered if her time of the month wasn't too far away. I unbuttoned my fly and prepared for engagement by slicking my cock with a hefty wad of saliva. I once again moved Penelope's camiknickers to the side. And brought my knob to the breach. I grasped her hips and said: "As you feel me push in, you must push out, as if you were needing to relieve yourself." "Why?" "It will ease the path. Do as I say and it will not hurt." I felt her bottom clench and unclench, and then I got the knob just inside. "Brace yourself," I said. "Keep pushing out until I'm right in." She did, and my cock began the slow upward glide, patiently and steadily, half-inch by half-inch until I was fully buried in her warm bottom. Oh such delight, that smooth sucking sensation that only an airtight hole can give, that feeling of taming and bringing into subjection of one, and the feeling of her stockings on the front of my thighs. "There Penelope... there is nothing to it, is there not?" "It's amazing." "What can you feel?" "Just a gentle sliding inside me. And being filled." "Do you like it very much?" "Very much indeed! It's fantastic, Jack. Am I being good for you too?" "Oh yes, my dear, very good indeed. A few more sessions like this and you will be suitably stretched." "You can be harder on me, if you wish? You've made my bottom all hot and itchy with your belt. Bang me hard!" And I responded to the invitation by pumping her vigorously for a good minute and a half. She felt hot and slick. "How was that. "Simply divine, Jack. I can't believe how lovely it is. But I feel I need something more." I knew what she was alluding to of course. She needed some extra stimulation and to this end I slid my hand inside the leg-opening of her camiknickers and brought my hand to bear on her sopping slit. I opened it and located her clitoris, now a bullet-like bean, and frigged her remorselessly until she came in a great gush of warm, syrupy juice. I too, was in need of extra stimulation to take me over the edge. Penelope's brother, Christopher, was my inspiration, and in my fertile mind it was his bottom that held me tightly ensconced at the finish, and his sphincter that milked me for my hot cum. (...continued in Part Four...) The Count of Cowley Manor Oh God have mercy, what had I done? I was deeply concerned I may have broken the skin with the ferocity of my attack on my nephew's flesh and was relieved therefore, on closer inspection, that the wounds I had inflicted with such zeal were actually still only superficial, though cruel enough for all that. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. It was not my intention to draw blood from his veins, for I am rather squeamish about the stuff to be frank, although that one trait appears to be at odds with my overall temperament. "Th-thank you, sir," said my nephew, breathlessly. "Now please go ahead and possess me." My nephew's whole posterior was a glorious canvas of stripes, blotches and florets, of pinks, reds and purples, the sight of which made my prick so hard that I truly feared bursting a blood vessel. In a few days his whole backside would be a pretty collage of many shades of purples, yellows and browns. I was now more than ready for the final assault on his poor defenceless bottom. After all, he was urging me to 'possess' him as he so eloquently put it. It was a triumph of my seductive technique that our final union was to be so mutually desired by both possessor and possessed. (to be continued...)