Chapter 6

The following characters appear in the remainder of the story:

Robert

Gabe’s and Celia’s son, 5’-7” tall, 155 pounds, 18 years old, barrel chested, light brown hair, green eyes.

Regina

Patrick’s and Celia’s daughter, 5’-2” tall, 118 pounds, 34C-22-33, 18 years old, long auburn hair, gray eyes.

Rebeca

Patrick’s and Celia’s daughter, 5’-1” tall, 115 pounds, 34D-22-34, 18 years old, medium length auburn hair, gray eyes.

Rachel

Patrick’s and Celia’s daughter, 5’-3” tall, 120 pounds, 34C-22-34, 18 years old, short auburn hair, green eyes.

Ronda

Robert’s and Celia’s daughter, 5’-2” tall, 120 pounds, 34D-22-34, 18 years old, long auburn hair, green eyes.

Richard

Robert’s and Regina’s son, 5’-7” tall, 165 pounds, barrel chested, 18 years old, auburn hair, green eyes.

Paul

Robert’s and Ronda’s son, 5’-7” tall, 160 pounds, barrel chested, 18 years old, light brown hair, green eyes.

Note: all Celia’s children’s descriptions are given at age eighteen.

Eighteen year old Cecilia came to Duke Gabriell in his bedroom on the night before her marriage. She had been most careful in her selection of a wedding date. Some in the household and in surrounding area had thought the choice based on superstition, or old wives tales, but she had picked a date when she was sure that she would be in her most fertile period. She wanted a baby badly, but not just any baby. No, she wanted a baby by her true Master, and she was determined to get it.

This is exactly why she was in the old Duke’s bedroom this night before her marriage to his son. It was her last chance. She had prayed to Brighid, the goddess the planet was named after, and received no tangible answer. She was determined to proceed on her own.

When Gabe entered the room that night, he was surprised to find Celia there and crying.

“Celia, why are you here? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he inquired.

“My Master...,” Celia started, but tears blotted out the rest.

“My God, girl,” the old Duke asked, “what is it? I haven’t seen you this upset in years. Is it Patrick or leaving here? What? Tell me.”

“My Master, it’s you. How can I leave you?” Celia finally managed through the tears.

“Celia, my God, it has been almost five years. How many times have I told you that you’re a free woman. No one is your Master. Why do you not understand?” Gabe demanded, in frustration.

“But Gabe, father, you will be my Master, as long as I live. Though I have a husband and children, even grandchildren, you will always be my Master, till the world is no more,” she breathed huskily.

“Celia, I had no idea you felt this way. Do you not love Patrick?” Gabe asked, in confusion.

“Yes, my Master. I love Patrick. He has always been good to me. I will marry him tomorrow, and be a dutiful wife to him, but he can never be my Master, only you can be that,” Celia said with a sob.

“Is that why you are here,” Gabe asked, “to tell me this?”

“No, my Master,” Celia said, as she shook with fear and desire, “I am here to beg for one last gift from you. Will you hear a poor girl’s request?”

The old Duke stood with clenched fists. He had long feared something like this. He had known since their time in the gardener’s shack, when he had rescued her, that Celia desired him. Now here it was again on the eve of her wedding. He prayed he had the strength to resist her. They had done nothing more serious than hug each other, and a occasional kiss on the cheek, since Celia had been at his manor. He had held her on walks in the garden, but that had never been serious.

Now here she was addressing him as “My Master” not father, or Duke, but as a slave girl to her beloved owner begging a boon. The Gods only knew he had never been able to refuse her anything before. Could he now?

“Go ahead an ask,” Gabe said finally, in resignation.

“My Master,” Celia said as she opened her robe and dropped to her knees before him to kiss his feet, “please make love to a poor girl before she leaves your house. Have pity on her just this once.” Her tears flooded his feet as her lips kissed them. Gabe was seriously taken back by these words and actions. His anger rose up also.

“Cecilia, I told you back before you came here that as my daughter, we could not have sex. You agreed to that and have held to it all of this time. Why should now be different? Can you not wait until tomorrow to make love to Patrick?”

“My Master,” Celia wailed in distress, “this has nothing to do with my love for Patrick. It has all to do with my love for you, my true Master. Please before I leave your house for the last time, make love to me so I have something to remember you by.” While saying this, Celia had risen from the floor and dropped her robe. She was now 5’-2” tall and 115 pounds. Her figure had filled out to a respectable 34D-22-34. Her long auburn hair now reached all the way to her butt, and her smoking gray eyes were filled with desire for him.

“Is it that I am ugly, my Master,” she whispered, “or is it the scars on my back that keep you away from me?”

Gabe had not seen a more beautiful creature in a long time. His resolve began to weaken. Celia advanced toward him, reached out, and put her arms around him, pulling herself closer. She planted her full lips on his, and kissed Gabe as only a lover could. Her tongue probed his mouth, and she rubbed herself against his leg.

After a few minutes of this treatment, Gabe’s resolve completely crumbled. He had always feared this. For he knew in his heart, that he could never deny this sweet girl anything, even this. When Celia felt Gabe return her kisses, she started to loosen his clothes, and guide him toward the bed.

Though an old man, Gabe had kept himself in good condition. Now Celia ran her hands lovingly over his body, as she removed his clothes. She gently kissed and licked his most sensitive spots on her way to her desire.

Gabe marveled at the treatment he was receiving. Where had Celia learned all of this and when? Then he remembered all of the young men that were always around the manor. Obviously, she had had over four years to learn these things.

After insuring that her Master was hard, a few licks and a little sucking had assured this, Celia lay on her back and pulled Gabe over on top of her. She guided him to her entrance and thrust her hips up to take him in. Though an old man, Gabe still remembered how to react, and plunged into her by reflex.

Celia wrapped her legs around her Master’s waist and locked her feet together behind his back. Then she drew him down and kissed him again, a long, passionate, tongue filled kiss. Her hips started to move, as her desire completely overtook her, and all thought disappeared.

Gabe could not believe what was happening. He had always remembered what it had been like to take the skinny thirteen year old, that Celia had been. She had been desperate to be a woman then. She was desperate now, and he wondered, for a second only, what it was this time.

Gabe started to move faster in her, as his own desire overtook him. He had not been with a woman for quite some time. His wife had died many years ago. Since then he had found the slave girls convenient, and available, when the need had arisen. It hadn’t arisen much in the last few years.

Consequently, Gabe didn’t last very long the first time. By reflex, he pushed deep into Celia, as he felt his nuts tighten, and he shot his load of baby juice deep into her sweet body. Celia went rigid under him for a short time. Gabe fell off her to her side panting, and trying to regain his senses. He lay there for a while. Celia recovered and started to cover his face with kisses. Gabe’s eyes soon closed, and he was asleep in a short while.

Celia on the other hand was not ready for sleep. She turned on the bed and lay back down next to Gabe, but with her legs up on the head board to keep her pussy as far above her belly as possible, so she could retain as much of Gabe’s baby juice in her for as long as possible. Then she let her eyes close, and she drifted off for a short nap.

Two hours or so later, Celia woke. Her legs were complaining of a lack of circulation. She brought her legs down and rubbed them for a while to increase the circulation. Then she turned her attention again to her Master and her mission. Moving carefully, she returned to her original position next to Gabe. Then she went to his beautiful shrunken cock, and started to lick and clean it. She loved the taste of their combined juices on it, and did a good job of bringing him back to attention.

When Gabe woke, he ran his hands through her hair as she worked on him.

“It’s not possible, Sweet One,” he told her, at one point, “That old soldier has not been able to get up twice in a row for a long time now.”

Celia continued to work on him. She moved her body around to allow him access to her as he pleased. Eventually, she had him where she wanted him. She turned then and pulled him over on top of her. She did not need to guide him this time. He found her by himself. After he had entered her for the second time, Gabe stopped, and asked, “Celia are you on the black bean?”

“Yes, my Master. I have been on the black bean since I first came here,” Celia told him. It was only a partial omission. She failed to mention that she had not had any in the last two months – expressly for this encounter. Gabe sank deep into her.

This time Gabe lasted longer – a lot longer. Their love this time was slow and passionate. There was much kissing and many sighs. Celia shook and squirmed under him. She thrust her hips, and orgasmed twice before Gabe was ready to finish.

When Gabe told her he was close, Celia locked her feet behind his back again and pulled him into her as deeply as she could. When she felt him start to shoot his baby juice into her she thrust her hips up as hard as she could hoping to get him even deeper than he was. She knew that this was her last chance, and she put everything she had into it.

Gabe had instinctively pushed himself as deep into Celia as he could. Their combined effort had him shooting baby juice directly through the opening in her cervix. Celia felt it, screamed, and passed out under him.

When Gabe finished, he fell from Celia’s collapsed body, and lay next to her in the bed. He was wasted. His heart hammered like mad in his chest, and he had trouble getting enough air into his lungs. He lay there for a long time recovering and dozed a little.

When Celia came to, she instinctively checked to see if she were leaking. She moved from the bed and retrieved the wax plug the mid-wife had fashioned for her and placed it in herself to stop the loss of any of her Master’s precious juices.