3 comments/ 61607 views/ 9 favorites The Girl from the Convent By: LadyMaisry The looking glass was of poor quality, clouded around the edges and the glass bulging, showing a parody of the girl standing in front of it. In the mirror, Adeline looked much like herself, but the flaws in the glass made her breasts bulge out comically and her hips show much wider than they were . She gazed at herself haughtily, the pale flesh of her body showing nearly white in the early light of dawn. She ran her hands down her body, feeling the smoothness of her skin. She admired her face, her large dark eyes staring at herself in vanity. "He has chosen well," she said to her reflection, "He will not regret his investment." "Adeline!" the grating voice of Sister Mathilde echoed down the hallway, "Adeline, by God you had better be dressed in there!" "Just a moment," Adeline groaned. She slipped her shift over her head. A parody of being dressed, her naked form still visible under the thin cotton. The rest of her clothes came next, and soon the lithe young creature was covered head to toe in a simple black dress, appropriate for the convent. "You would do well not to keep him waiting," Sister Mathilde's voice said again, this time at the door of her cell, "He's kept you here, you know, you ought to be grateful!" "Yes, Sister," Adeline replied, rolling her eyes. She tied her long black hair up and pinned it, covering it with a white kerchief, as all of the convent's wards did. She was older than most of them, a few months passed her eighteenth birthday. Most girls gave up on their benefactors ever coming for them by the time they were sixteen or seventeen. Most of those girls took the veil, preferring to live their lives within the walls of the abbey than take their chances on the outside world. "And that he's kept you as long as he has!" Mathilde exclaimed, still at the door. "I understand my duties, Sister," Adeline called, "When is he coming?" "When is he coming? Why he's been here for near twenty minutes now! He grows impatient!" Adeline sashayed lazily towards the door. She put on a show for the other wards, not being afraid of the man who had bought her from her parents and sent her to the convent, to be raised away from the prying eyes of the world, until he was ready to take her as his bride. The other girls, many in the same situation, trembled and cried and begged to take their vows and their place among the sisters. Adeline, though, waited impatiently for the day when she could walk out of the gate that she had walked into at the age of ten, and rejoin the world as she felt was her right. No matter what the old man looked like, his money and influence would certainly buy her a place in society... whatever the price. That he had waited all of eight years was a source of secret shame to her. She was sure that he had seen her through the bars of the gate, the only window to the world outside the thick stone walls of the nunnery, and thought her unworthy. "Well!" she thought, "He won't think me unworthy now." She exited her cell and was met by Mathilde, who seized her by the elbow and dragged her through the cloister and out into one of the buildings on the outside of the abbey. She averted her eyes from the stares of the nuns and novitiates who labored in the gardens and over steaming kettles of laundry. "A life of hard work is not my lot," she thought, "They feel sorry for me, don't they... well the joke's on them!" She was led to an upstairs room, devoid of furniture except for an old, rickety table, and two chairs. "Wait here!" Mathilde ordered. She nodded primly and seated herself on one of the chairs. It seemed like an eternity, her thoughts racing. She had never laid eyes on the gentleman who would now come to claim her. Most of them were old, in their sixties, wanting wives young enough to be their granddaughters to comfort them in their old age. She imagined hers would be one of those, paunchy and white-haired, probably incapable of performing the act which seemed to be so dreaded by all who dwelled within the convent's walls. Besides Jacques, the simple-minded lad who took care of the grounds, and the rotating series of guards who stood watch outside the gate – to keep the world out or to keep the nuns in she was never quite sure – she had never laid eyes on any man since she was a child. That, of course, did not mean that she was unschooled... there had been one other girl, with whom she shared a room in the six months since her eighteenth birthday. Hélène was her name and the two were of the same age, having been born only a week apart. She was a wild girl, incorrigible in the eyes of the good sisters. Hélène had a cousin to whom she was very close, who was married to a man who worked in a printing press. This cousin smuggled her books from the outside, books that described all sorts of sordid things that men and women did to one another. The two of them had pored over them, more closely than they had ever studied the word of God. The author was certain Marquis whom Hélène said was shut in a madhouse. Of course, the two of them being shut up alone so much had found the time to act out some of these activities on each other, and so Adeline felt herself reasonably well versed in what would be expected of her. Hélène had been married off several weeks beforehand, to a businessman recently come to claim her from the West Indies. She had not received any letters yet, had promised to write to her once she herself had been claimed. She was startled from her memories by the return of Sister Mathilde, the Abbess, and the man who could only have been her betrothed. Fear suddenly seized the girl, and she had to force herself to look up into the man's face. He looked back at her through piercing blue eyes, something like a smile on his face. He was young, by the standards of most, in his thirties perhaps, and unmistakably good-looking. His clothes were of high quality, and the ring he wore on his smallest finger was probably worth more than all the land on which the sprawling abbey was located. This, though, made her even more suspicious. "What would a young, handsome, man, want with a bride from a convent?" she thought,"There must be something wrong with him" He said nothing, but just stared at her. "Adeline, this is Etienne L'Eveque, you'll be married later today," the Abbess declared, looking from one to the other nervously, "We shall return in twenty minutes." The last words she said, looking at the man directly. "She's skinny," he said to the Abbess, "Like a goat." "She'll fatten up soon enough, I imagine," the abbess said. She took Sister Mathilde by the arm and hurried her from the room, leaving the two of them alone. "Good morning, Etienne," Adeline said politely, though inside she was seething. Like a goat? "You will address me as 'sir' at all times, girl," he said, "Do you understand?" "Yes, sir," she said, looking at the floor, a cold chill running up her spine, "My name is..." "I don't care what your name is, girl," he said, "Do you understand?" "Yes, sir." "How long did she say?" "Twenty minutes, sir," she replied. This, she knew, was highly irregular. This Etienne L'Eveque must have a certain amount of wealth and influence to have bought twenty minutes alone with his young bride to be. He stared at her like he was an artist and she a particularly reticent block of marble. "No sense in buying a mare I haven't ridden first," he said, scowling at her. He moved towards her. She flinched involuntarily, panic rising in her stomach. He seemed to take offense to this, throwing his hat, a splendidly embroidered tricorn, to the ground revealing a full head of blond hair tied back at the nape of his neck. He stepped forward and seized her by the throat. Adeline's brown eyes went wide with fear as he bore down on her windpipe, his other hand seizing the kerchief from her head and throwing it to the floor. She tried to scream, but his hand was squeezing the air and the life out of her. Her hands flailed futilely in the air, she tried vainly to shake her head 'no,' but it was all of no use. He pulled the pins from her hair, and it tumbled, black and tangled, down her back. He loosed her throat, and she sat back, feeling very exposed, before him. The lack of breath made her gasp for air, her modest bosom heaving prettily as she took in breath after grateful breath. "Get up!" he barked. She obliged him numbly, rising to her feet. He unhooked the buttons on her dress expertly, like a man who had done it all his life. He made short work of her underclothes, too, and soon all pretense of modesty lay in a pile on the floor, and she stood naked before him as she had before her looking glass not an hour beforehand. "Stay there," he ordered, and took a step back. The blue gaze raked over her from head to toe, lingering on her breasts and the place where her legs met, "You're skinny. I didn't pay good money all these years for the sisters to starve you!" She mumbled an apology, but he either didn't hear it or chose to ignore it. "Is your pussy always like that or do you shave it when the sisters aren't looking?" he asked, his eyes resting on her sex. "What?" she spluttered, her indignation finally getting the better of fear, "What kind of question is that?" She was soon to regret her hasty outburst as he darted, swift as a cat, behind her, and landed a painful smack on her bottom. Adeline, who had grown up being disciplined by the good Sisters of Humility, had grown a bit of a thick skin on her backside. Her and Hélène's escapades had landed them in hot water on more than one occasion, and her bottom had been routinely struck with everything from willow switches to a crucifix by one impulsive nun. The viciousness, though, with which this Etienne struck her, surprised her, and she nearly let loose a high-pitched yelp. "You will answer my question, girl," he said, "Do you understand?" "Yes, sir," she said quietly, "No, sir, I don't shave... there." "You don't shave what, girl?" "I don't shave my... area." He smacked her again, this time on her left buttock. She flinched. "What don't you shave, girl?" he asked, the anger rising in his voice. "My pussy!" she exclaimed, "I don't shave my pussy!" "Good girl," he said. He raised his hand as though to slap her again, but instead cupped her bare bottom and squeezed. He clicked his tongue behind his teeth, "No, no, this won't do at all. Entirely too skinny! Your mother had tits out to there, where are yours?" "My... my mother?" "Why the hell do you think I bought you, girl? Your mother was the best ride a boy ever had, I wanted one for myself!" he said, "What kind of work do you do here?" "Gardening, sir," she replied. "That explains that," he said, "I'll tell this sisters to put you on spinning for the next year, and to feed you. Put your clothes on." "What?" she asked breathlessly. "Put your clothes on and go back to your cell, girl. I don't want you, yet." "No, sir!" she protested, the fear of being left in the convent to waste away far greater than that of what he would do to her once they were wed, "Please, don't leave me here! I'll do anything!" The hint of a smile passed over his features, "You, who have never known a man, stand naked before me having been groped and slapped and ordered about, and yet you plead with me to take you? Most girls in your situation would be sobbing, begging to go back to the convent!" "Please, sir," she said, hanging her head, "I'm not like the other girls." "And that, Adeline," he said, using her name for the first time, "Is why you can count on me to be back one year from today. I can only hope I like what I see a little more than I do now." "Yes, sir," she said, picking up her clothes. She got her shift over her head, but he stepped forward and seized her by the neck again. "Did you ever play with the other girls?" he asked. "What?" she asked, looking at him in confusion. His grip tightened on the back of her neck and his other hand slid, sneakily, up the inside of her thigh. She tensed involuntarily as his fingertips reached her outer lips. "You would do well to start answering my questions straightaway, girl," he said. Suddenly, he seized her clitoris between two of his fingers and twisted viciously. Tears sprang to her eyes as he let her go, but the ache as the pain receded from her most secret of places left her with a longing that she did not fully understand. "Yes, sir," she rasped, the tears spilling down her cheeks. "Ahh, good girl!" he said quietly. "My friend Hélène and I used to share a room," she said, "We would..." "What would you do?" he asked, "Would you touch each other here?" His fingertips brushed the tender nub which he had just so viciously tortured. She gasped, and felt a familiar rush of moisture to the passageway beneath it, "Did she ever put her tongue here?" he asked, caressing her again, "Did she ever put her finger here?" he asked, his hand moving southward and tracing the delicate opening of her body. "No sir, she never put her finger there. We had... we had to remain virgins..." "Good girl," he breathed again, his breath tickling her ear. His hand remained between her legs for a little more, but he soon withdrew it and wiped it on an expensive-looking handkerchief which he produced from his pocket. "Now get dressed. I will inform the abbess of our little arrangement." "Yes, sir," she mumbled, hastily throwing her dress over her head and tugging on her underclothes. Without a looking-glass, she had trouble pinning her hair up properly, but did the best she could and hoped that the kerchief would disguise what had just transpired. She sat down in the chair again, staring at the floor and trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. She was uncomfortably wet down there, and she knew if the sisters could guess at what had occurred she'd be beaten senseless. They would not, she imagined, be terribly angry about him not taking her straightaway. After all, so long as she was within the convent's walls, her benefactor would continue to grace the sisters with generous contributions. Two of the other girls who had been sent there by wealthy gentlemen were pampered and treated like princesses rather than convent orphans, all at the behest of the old men who expected something like affection from their young brides. Another, per her benefactor's instructions, was treated harshly, so to prepare her for the realities of married life. Adeline had never been treated one way or another, and so had imagined that she would be wed to a man too old to care. Certainly nothing in the way the sisters had treated her had prepared her for the treatment she had just received! She sat silently through the conversation Etienne had with the abbess, who nodded silently at everything he had to say. Finally, she said, "It will be as you have asked." He nodded his approval, gave a slight bow to Adeline, and was gone as quickly as he had come. The Girl from the Convent Ch. 02 The year passed quickly for Adeline, seated in front of her spinning wheel. She was not sure if it was the sedentary nature of her work, the additional food which the sisters heaped upon her, or just her body's natural development, but by the time eleven months had passed, her hips had widened, her behind become much more prominent and her breasts, as Etienne had put it, stood "out to there." Her waist, though, she though with some vanity, had remained small and slim, making her breasts and buttocks all the more noticeable. Of course, her treatment drew some jealousy from the other wards of the convent. In addition to spinning, she was asked to perform other tasks, such as drawing water from the well late at night when one of the other girls thirsted. A bit guilty over her fortune, Adeline complied, preferring to bend to the will of the crowd rather than risk the sort of mob justice that the girls visited upon a transgressor. She remembered one girl by the name of Madeleine, the daughter of a wealthy merchant who had lost his wife and preferred his daughter to be raised in the simplicity of the convent. Madeleine had had a bad attitude from the beginning, refusing to do her part in even the simplest of tasks, leaving the other girls to shoulder the burden of her laziness. All twenty of them had cornered her one winter night and pelted her with pebbles. At first, Madeleine had laughed, asking if they really thought a child's game would do anything to her. But they were relentless, Adeline among them, and after fifteen minutes or so, Madeleine was cut up, blue with cold, and begging for mercy. The last thing Adeline wanted was to be subjected to the same cruel justice, and so, one night, about three weeks before her fiancé was due to return, she crept out in nothing but her cotton shift with her hair undone, a water jug balanced on one shoulder. Bernadette, a loudmouthed orphan from the village, had become the girls' de facto leader, and had demanded a jug of water to wash her face with. Never mind that it was two in the morning, Adeline thought, and went about her task. The path to the well took her by the gate to the convent, where there were always two sentries standing guard. Sometimes, late at night especially, they would be young and boorish boys, not knowing better than to shout rude things at the abbey's residents going by. If they tried that sort of behavior during the day, they would be promptly sent from their posts in disgrace. But at night, there was nobody to hear her complaints. She walked quickly by the guard post. The two nights prior, the guards had been two men -- boys really, neither could have been much older than nineteen or twenty -- who had shouted at her to lift her skirts and let them have a peek in the moonlight. She imagined the same two would be standing watch that night, and hunched her shoulders and tucked her head down, hoping they might leave her alone. She had no such luck. She heard the shrill whistle as she bent over to lower the bucket down into the well. "Look at that, Julien," she heard one of the guards, a swarthy, black-haired lad call, "You ever see an ass like that through a novitiate's dress?" "I never seen an ass like that on a girl with tits like that," his friend, who was pale and freckled with sandy brown hair, replied, "I bet her mother was the best whore in town!" "Hey! You, with the ass!" the dark-haired boy called, "Come over her and let us see it closer!" Adeline ignored them, drawing the water from the well and filling Bernadette's jug. She started along the path back towards safety, nearly running. Unfortunately for her, a combination of her haste and the sheer blackness of the night caused her not to notice the uneven cobblestone, until her foot struck it, and she went sprawling, the pewter jug clattering against walk. She picked herself up. She had caught the full force of the fall on her hands, and was not hurt. But, looking around for the jug, she saw with horror that it had gone spinning towards the gate, and that one of the guards had reached through the bars, each about a foot apart from the next, and picked it up. "Got something of yours," Julien said, leering at her, "You ought to come over here and get it." They must have seen in the dim lamplight the distress on her face. She could go back to Bernadette empty-handed and face the wrath of the other girls. Or, she could take her chances with the guards. "Just throw it here," she said, "Please!" "No, you come here!" the dark-haired one said. "Well, Gabriel," Julien said, "Looks like she doesn't want it back that badly... maybe we should just keep it." "No," she said, sighing, and stepped forward to retrieve it. "Put your hand through the gate," said Gabriel, grinning, his teeth showing very white against his dark skin. "Please," she said, her voice catching. In a single fluid motion, Julien had thrust his hand between the bars and seized her forearm, pulling her viciously against the cold iron. "You're older than the other girls," he said, examining her face, "What's your story?" "I'm to be married in a month," she said. The two exchanged a knowing glance which she did not quite understand. "All right, listen, girl," said Julien, "You have been walking that path from the cloister to the well every night for a week, wearing nothing but that shift you're in right now. You can imagine the distress this has caused Gabriel and me, we being two young bachelors denied a woman's company." "Why don't you buy a whore like every other young man?" Adeline hissed, suddenly defiant. She twisted and strained, but Julien's grasp on her arm was firm. "Why would we buy whores when here you come, every night?" he asked, "Back and forth, just within sight of our posts, just begging for it..." She struggled but, only succeeded in putting her other arm within reach of Gabriel, who grabbed and pulled it through another bar, leaving her pinned, her breasts thrust lewdly in front of her, against the gate. Finally, she went limp, "Fine," she said, "What will it take for you to let me go, and give me my jug?" "You're going to provide a little relief for us," Gabriel said, "After the cruel way you've teased us." "Just... just don't take my virginity," she said. "I think we can work around that," Julien said, "Get on your knees." They relaxed their grips just enough to allow her to kneel, but not enough that she could pull away. On her knees, her arms still tethered by the wrists , she found herself face to face with the young men's trousers. First Julien loosed her arm to unbutton himself and then Gabriel did the same once Julien had taken hold of her once again. She had read about this, once, in one of Hélène's books, how women -- and other men -- would take a man's sex in their mouths and suck until he loosed his seed. It had been described in lewd detail by the author. She was grateful that she had had this little bit of instruction on what was to come. But, as she was soon to find out, reading about it and actually performing the act were two entirely different things. "Open your mouth," Gabriel commanded, drawing closer to the opening in the bars. Adeline obliged. "Wider," he said, "If you bite me, we'll break both your arms." She opened her mouth wider. The smell of his sex struck her full in the nostrils as he drew forward, not unpleasant, but to a girl who had known only the company of women for all of her adult life, it was strange and inexplicably exciting. "You ever seen a cock before?" he asked. She shook her head no. She had, of course, seen drawings, again from Hélène's books. He reached down with the hand that was not holding her wrist and fumbled in his trousers, eventually drawing forth his manhood. She observed it warily in the lamplight. It stood completely rigid, at a right angle from his body. She had no idea how large one was supposed to be, but the one before her eyes now was about the size of a candle that had been burned half way down, four or five inches at the most. From what she had heard from the nuns and the other girls, that which dwelled in a man's trousers was some sort of horrible monster, meant to rip women apart, but this... this seemed entirely harmless. "I'm going to let your arm go now," Gabriel said, "But Julien's going to keep hold of your other one, so no funny ideas." He loosed her arm, and she brought it down to her side. Gabriel reached through the bars on either side of her and positioned her head in the middle of one of the gaps, his hands tangled in her dark hair. "Open up, girl," he commanded. She obliged, and suddenly found herself behind guided towards his manhood. She took him gingerly in her mouth, not altogether sure of what to expect. He tasted much the way he smelled, and she imagined that this was just how men smelled, just as women had their own scent, men did too. He paused as she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, allowing her to explore it with her tongue. She had expected a man's cock to be rougher, but Gabriel's was smooth as she took him deeper in her mouth, getting used to the texture. "Suck him deeper," Julien commanded. She glanced over at him, and saw that he had freed his own with his free hand and was rubbing it as she worked her way up and down his friend's. She obeyed, taking more of Gabriel's cock in to her mouth, until she felt the tip touch the back of her throat and she gagged involuntarily. Gabriel took this as an invitation. The hands tangled in her hair suddenly gripped her tightly, and forced her down so that her lips touched the hair at the base of his cock, and the head went down her throat. She had no time to argue with this treatment as he pulled her back roughly, and then thrust it down her throat again. She gasped for air as he continued to thrust in and out of her mouth, managing to draw a few short breaths in between having her throat completely plugged by his throbbing manhood. "Fuck, Jules," Gabriel groaned, "She's a natural!" "Hurry up then," Julien said, his hand skittering over his own cock, watching in anticipation as the girl's mouth, uttering small whimpers, was forced back and forth, "I've got something else in mind for her." "You're gonna go for it?" Gabriel gasped, pulling Adeline's head entirely into his groin. "Of course I am," Julien said, grinning. Adeline glanced wildly about, wondering what on earth Julien was talking about. She whimpered and moaned as Gabriel fucked her face, thrusting his hardness down her throat again and again and again. "Suck harder, bitch," he commanded. She complied, applying more pressure on his cock. He took his hands from her hair and planted them firmly at the back of her head, drawing her all the way onto him again. She suddenly felt his cock start to pulse, and felt something splatter against the back of her throat. He let loose a small moan, forcing her to stay there, his cock down her throat, while his seed spurted over and over, into the girl's virgin mouth. Finally, he let her go, and she drew back, coughing and gagging as she swallowed his hot issue. "Please," she said, tears springing to her eyes, "Please can I go now?" "Not a chance!" Julien exclaimed, "I haven't had my turn yet!" "Please don't do that to me," she said, the tears trickling down her face, "Please, I couldn't breathe. I can't do that again..." "You're to be married, you'll have to get used to it, won't you," Julien said, "But no, no, I won't be putting my dick where Gabriel just put his, that'd just be awkward." Adeline felt, personally, still mulling over the slightly salty taste that Gabriel's seed left in the back of her throat, that she had had quite enough 'awkward' for one night. But she had already made her choice, choosing to take her chances with the guards rather than with the perverse justice of the female mob inside. She felt more tears well up and course down her face. Gabriel had grabbed her free wrist by this point, so she couldn't wipe them away. "Stand up, girl," he commanded. She nodded and did so. "Now, we're going to let go of your hands," he said, "And then you're going to turn around and put your hands through the bars backward. If you run or scream, the nuns will find out what's just happened, and your fiancé will leave you here in the convent your entire life. Is that what you want?" She sniffled and shook her head, grateful when they let her arms go so she could run the back of her hand across her cheeks. She turned around, as they had asked, and thrust her arms backwards through the bars. She could not see behind her as Julien took off his belt and tethered her two wrists together, looping them over a cross-bar in the gate just at the height of her shoulders. She whimpered at the pain as her arms were bent at such an unnatural angle, and she found that she had to bend over at the waist, so that her arms stuck straight out behind her, in order to get them into a comfortable position. Because of the situation, this caused her to thrust her behind between the bars. What she didn't realize, as she hung there by her wrists, was that this was exactly what Julien had planned the whole time. She heard the lads chuckle as one of them lifted her shift to reveal that she wore nothing underneath. "How old are you, anyway?" Gabriel asked. "Nineteen," she replied. "Really," Julien said, "I thought brunettes were supposed to have hairy pussies. Look, she's only got a bit around the sides and up top." She felt his hand trace the light fringe of black hair around her outer lips, "But I wouldn't rob a man of first crack at that." His fingers probed a bit into her slit, brushing the nub of her clitoris and moving down. "Feel that, Gabriel, I think sucking your cock got this bitch wet!" Gabriel laughed, "My cock has that effect on women. Too bad we've gotta preserve her virtue, eh Jules?" "I suppose," Julien said, "But then again, I've always had different preferences of what to do to a woman than you. Hand me that extra oil, would you?" Adeline, doubled over, could see nothing but the cobblestones below her feet. If she could have turned around, though, she would have seen Julien applying a greasy handful of oil to his exposed cock. She would have also seen more clearly than the glimpses she had gotten while Gabriel was firmly fucking her face that it was much larger than Gabriel's, both in length and circumference. This, however, she remained blissfully ignorant of, as well as what he planned to do to her. That is, until she felt the heat of his hand trace between the twin globes of her behind, making contact with a passageway she had never imagined would come into play in this sort of context. According to Hélène's books, that was what men did to each other, not what they did to women! "No," she said, "Not there..." "Well, girl," Julien said, laughing, "You've got two choices. You can beg me to bugger you, or I can take your pussy by force. I can't imagine that husband of yours would appreciate taking you to bed and finding that another man's cock had already taken your virginity. In fact, he'd probably send you back here!" "You want me to..." "Beg for it," he commanded, his oily hand sliding over her exposed hole and down between her legs, stroking her clitoris absentmindedly. She gasped as another torrent of moisture soaked her pussy. She struggled with her tethers, but her hands were tightly bound to the gate. "Please," she said. "It's really your choice," Julien said, cackling cruelly. "Please do that to me," she said. "Do what?" Julien asked. She felt him put the tip of his cock between her cheeks and slide it up and down. She tensed when he touched her sensitive back hole, curious at the sensations it sparked. "Please put your cock in my..." "In your what?" "Put it in my ass," she croaked, the tears flowing freely from her eyes. "Say it again." "Please put your cock in my ass," she said. "Good girl!" Julien exclaimed, positioning the tip of his cock at her tiny back entrance. He put his right hand through the bars to brace against her pussy, "Now, remember, you had best stay quiet. If you wake anyone, and they find you like this, you'll never leave the convent." Before she could voice her consent, he pressed one finger down on her clitoris, and as she gasped her pleasure from that, she found herself biting back cries of pain as his cock plummeted into her ass, pushing in until she thought she would be ripped in half. The oil he had applied to his engorged member and her tight passageway eased it, but still she had to grit her teeth to keep from screaming, and cried silently from the pain. It was all Julien could do to keep his moaning at a minimum at the tightness of her squeezing his cock as he thrust it all the way in. When he was fully engulfed, he paused, as she struggled vainly to free herself from her restraints. "You're going to hurt yourself, and me, if you don't relax," he hissed. He began moving his hand across her clit, careful to stay away from her virgin pussy. The oil made it easy to stroke her there, moving his hand slowly. She behaved herself and kept quiet, but close to her he could hear the soft noises she made in the back of her throat as he played with the sensitive bud. He felt her ass start to relax as he rubbed her, and he began to thrust in and out gently, still moving his hand between her legs. Adeline, who had, as she had told Etienne the year before, played a bit with her friend Hélène, touching and licking each other after the sisters had gone to bed, but they had been roommates for a scant six months before Hélène had been sent off to be married, and so had not had the chance to explore the range of their sexual responses. Once, she remembered, Hélène had been exploring her vulva with her tongue, and had let it slip down and slide shyly across her puckered back hole. She'd tensed up and ordered her friend to stop, but had been secretly and shamefully thrilled with the sensation. Now, with Julien's hardness up inside her, so different from Hélène's rough, pink little tongue, she felt a bit of that thrill again. Especially, she noted shamefully, as his hand worked her most sensitive of regions. Within a few minutes, he was thrusting hard into her ass. The pain was still there, she observed, but was dwarfed in comparison to the sense of urgency as his stroking took on a desperate quality. She felt the familiar sensation as the heat rose in her pussy. She felt her pale cheeks go pink, and her breathing become labored. "Have you ever climaxed before?" she heard Julien's hoarse whisper. She nodded. "Do you want to now?" She did nothing, not wanting to show her assailant the effect he was having on her. "Do you?" he asked. His hand grabbed onto the little pink bud between her lips, much as Etienne had, pinched it, and twisted it as he thrust violently into her ass. She imagined, as he started, that this was intended to cause her pain, to torture her... but the intensity of the sensations proved too much for the girl's delicate constitution, and she pulled against her bindings as she came, her clitoris pulsating and her ass tensing up, grabbing ahold of Julien's hard cock, gripping and releasing his manhood over and over again as a torrent of juices flooded from her pussy. This, in turn, proved too much for Julien, the muscles of her tight passageway tightening even more, then releasing him, massaging the tip of his cock as he thrust deeper than he had before and felt his seed spurting into her. He gripped the bars of the gate for balance as he bit back his cries of pleasure. He stood there for a full minute as her ass milked his cock, withdrawing only after he had gone fully flaccid. Gabriel wasted no time in releasing the girl's wrists from their restraints, and she stood up gratefully, stretching her back and working the kinks out of her joints that her prolonged stance in such an awkward position had put there. She pulled her shift back down, and turned to face them.