Chapter 10

I sat on a bench in the count's library, reading a book of poetry written by Count Giles. An attempt to get into his head, you see. The poem went:

Silent garden, fourteen candles
Baking in warm sweat
You lay as a pillow beneath my shadow
A ray of light beckoning me

Weakness takes my eyes
Away from thee
And my love cries
Heavenly

And our love stirs
Delicately
My hands over yours
Fatefully

His obsession with fate seemed to expose itself at every turn; his belief that the past rules the present, religiously. I began to wonder if there was a way that I could use the past against him. In order to know that, I would have to learn more of it. And the only way to do that, was through him. It seemed clear that my sexuality gave me one clear advantage, one stroke of power over him. One tool that I could use against him. And I would play into this fate thing, deeply.

A servant came before me then, a young man in a purple outfit. He bowed. "Sir," he said. "The count expects you in his Training Office right away."

"Training Office?" I said. "Ah, I think I know the one."

I stepped back into the very room where I had lost my anal virginity to the count. As I turned the corner I came to see his lead guards standing, and between them stood a young girl, with long golden hair, dressed in a most careful and prepared way. I the count stood before her, his hand to her chin as he examined her face with a greedy grin. He then turned to me. Anger stirred in me as our eyes met, I fought to repress it.

"Ah, my assistant!" said Count Giles. "Your education of higher learning begins today. The subject: Lady Shora Orlanna Steen. Here by religious and ethical duty to reach the sensitive stage in her life known as womanhood. The objective is impregnation, but by law I have only one day, roughly speaking, to make my attempt. I want to you to observe, everything."

I stepped forward, heart sinking for the dear girl. Her head was raised with pride, and as I looked upon her I was relieved to see that she was in fact quite a lady, despite her size. Her features were of course modest, that mysterious place between childhood and adulthood. She seemed confident about why she was here, and spiritually believing it was a pure thing. Yet there was fear, and of course uncertainty.

I gazed at the count in wonder. Could he actually go through with such a thing? I was shocked enough when I caught him deflowering and sodomizing Lady Rasberlee, but this girl was roughly three years younger.

The count nodded to the guards, and they turned and left the room. The count directed me to a sofa seat, where I sat to observe the count's greed and malice. The count seemed to sense my opposition, and turned to the girl sly-eyed. "Tell me, Shora," he said, "why are you here?"

"To be deflowered," said the girl. "A natural part of life here on Sholinetein. It's how I become a woman."

"Do you desire him?" I asked her, doubtful.

She looked the count up and down. "I do," she replied. "It is fate." The young lady looked upon the count strangely, as one looked upon a priest, or a king -- as someone holy and somehow above and beyond mere mortals.

"Tell me your sins," said the count.

The girl had obviously been prepped, as she knew exactly what to say. "I was kissed twice, by one boy when I was seven, and by another when I was twelve. A cousin touched my breasts a few months ago, as he was teasing me."

"I see," said the count. "Then there is ample punishment for these actions, which have slightly tarnished the essence of the Defloweration process."

I turned to the count with a raised brow. Was he kidding?

But Lady Shora nodded with acceptance, as a soldier being knighted.

"Remove your clothing," said the count. He picked up a pine paddle from the table beside him, and whacked it into his head.

I admit, my crotch hardened as I watched the girl slowly undress each article of clothing, from her shoes, to her stockings, to her dress, blouse, and underclothes. Her small pointed breasts stood in out view, the nipples small and pink. She bore only a tiny streak of pubic hair. The count sat on his chair and the girl walked to him. He helped her over his lap, as her head and limbs lowered away. The count pushed away her hair, as I lowered my head for what was about to occur.

WHACK! The paddle smacked onto her ass, and the poor girl screamed out, body twitching, legs pulsing. He rose the paddle back and came down with another. WHACK! The girl squirmed, crying for freedom, but his hand pinned her down. WHACK! The cry cried out, kicking. WHACK! "Once more," announced the count, waiting for the girl to ease, and she did. WHACK! The girl cried again.

The count helped her to his feet, as he remained sitting. Her buttocks were quite rosy red, as her hands felt them much the way I had after my belting. "To the bed," ordered the count. The girl walked strait to the bed, crawled onto her, laid down onto her back with her head to the pillow, and closed her eyes. The count winked to me as he stood. He placed the paddle onto the desk, and then unfastened his belt. He tossed it to the flour. He removed all of his clothes, large penis raising, and he walked over to the bed.

My head raised in my hands. Part of me was enjoying watching this, as again my mind seemed divided in doubt. Was this horribly wrong, simply because she was young and he wasn't? Or was it natural -- the honest sexual desires being expressed as they were meant to be? I struggled with the quorum, as my penis continued to harden in my pants; there was no denying the natural will of the body, however reason disagreed.

The count climbed onto the bed, and began kissing her lips. The poor darling let his kissing move her, embracing it as fate. He kissed over her face, her ears and nose, and her head, down her neck, her bosoms and nipples, down to her bellybutton, her crotch, her slit, her thighs, knees, shins, and feet. He kissed and sucked on her toes. I half-watched as the count felt over her body, exploring every inch. I saw him push a finger against her asshole, which made her buckle with awkwardness.

He placed her hands to his long shaft, and her eyes opened, gazing upon it. Her eyes were fearful, and she closed them with an anxious breath, growing determined again. The count leaned down and licked along her count, stroking her belly warmly, as her body eased and began to embrace her sexuality, as clouded as it seemed to her. Her face eased with awakening sexuality as he tantalized her vagina with his tongue. She even moaned a little, a reminder that she was in fact a young woman.

He then mounted himself over her, placing his knob to her slit. I half-watched the long and difficult ordeal, of her pain and discomfort, and his various withdrawals. Gradually he eased his way inside her vagina, earning every inch with patience. I was amazed to see that he knew when to stop, when he simply couldn't enter her any more deeply. A clear inch of his shaft lay bare, outside her body, and he was left to ponder the obvious problem that hadn't occurred to him before. He then removed his penis, lathered it with the same cream that he had used to sodomize me, and then tried again.

The girl cried and groaned in pain as the count pushed with wavering patience, and remarkably, forced his way to the hilt. The count began humping the girl gently, and while the discomfort never left her face, she did begin to moan with growing pleasure. This was a pressure, special experience to Lady Shora, and Count Giles made love to her with a spiritual recognition of the fact, and indeed on that level it did seem that they were sharing something sacred, despite the physical appearance of his much larger and hairy body over hers.

After a time the count's passions rose, and he came delicately it seemed, spilling into the young lady's vagina. He pushed himself hard into her, as if mentally focussing on the pregnancy. He held himself in that position for a moment, and then removed his penis from her. He laid with her, kissing and stroking her as she rested her head to him as if in a deep sleep. The count waved for me, and I approached, my crotch pushing through my pants.

"A darling, isn't she?" said the count. "And only the first of many. My blood will spill over this island, like that of her virgin vagina."