Chapter 4: Claire in the Bastille

Upon her arrival at the Bastille, Claire was immediately taken over by the commander of the fortress, the Marquis René Jourdan de Launay, who had admired her and, like every other man at court, had desired her during the sumptuous banquets at Versailles. Claire had treated him with disdain, both for his old age, for the evident lust of his filthy attentions, and for the nasty smell emanating from his putrid body. But now this little hen was a guest in his hen house and he would have relieved himself of the desire to snatch every feather from her.

As soon as she saw him, Claire threw herself at him, in tears.

“Marquis de Launay, thank heaven! Help me, Marquis, please, in the name of our friendship! It was all a misunderstanding, your majesty did not understand that...”

“Shut up, you filthy bitch! I have specific orders from her majesty on your behalf and I will be very happy to carry them out. To begin with, take off that rag now!”

Claire looked around her, meeting the perverse gaze of the many guards who watched the scene.

“Marquis, I beg you! Have pity on my condition. I have nothing else on...”

“Better that way, bitch! We’ll hurry first. Off that shirt! Nobody enters my prison without being properly screened. And I’ll be happy to carry out this assignment myself.”

Defeated, Claire surrendered and, after taking off that one garment that covered her shame, she was naked in front of the soldiers.

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“I don’t see weapons or poisons on you ... let’s check inside your body now!”

“Nooooo, you can’t! You can’t! I’m a woman!!!”

“That means I’ll have to check two mole lairs instead of one.” replied the marquis, making his men laugh coarsely, who, at a peremptory gesture of their commander, immobilized the woman. De Launay licked his dry lips, tasting with his eyes the lush kitten of the English lady, so admired at Versailles but never seen by anyone for how she was without her beautiful clothes.

“You know Madame Beauchamp, I find you much more interesting in this your outfilt of sinful Eva than with your provocative low-cut red dress, which you wore at the last reception at the court. - Then to his soldiers - Open her thighs and hold her still!”

Cries and screams did not stop him as he stroked the thick black hair of sex and introduced first one and then two fingers into the contracted vagina. The old man’s bony fingers probed the warm wet channel until Claire’s breathing became labored and her moans slower, deeper and more rhythmic. The slit tightened around the insistent fingers and their slow and continuous movement in and out produced an extremely sensual sucking noise after a few moments. Claire closed her eyes helplessly to resist that humiliating and delicious torture at the same time, and she felt a slow and unstoppable tide coming from afar, rocking her bowels.