Sodomy in Saint-Domingue (Closed for monique_minx)

Fernand de Olendon stood waiting at the altar. The fragrance of incense wafted in the air as he admired the light that the rose window produced upon the floor. Meanwhile, the guests stood in anticipation – patiently – for the arrival of the bride.

The Archbishop of Paris looked anxious to begin the ceremony and even seemed ready to send an altar boy to inquire upon the state of the bride’s preparedness when the organ awoke upon the entrance of the aforementioned personage. She appeared immaculate in her wedding gown of lace adorned with pearls. Of course, the sumptuousness of the dress required her to proceed with caution, which allowed Fernand to further admire his soon to be spouse.

He hoped to God that she matched the beauty of the clothing that concealed her features. The father promised him a rare treasure and he meant to see that oath fulfilled; lest he withdraw the financial support staying the hand of insolvency from falling upon their illustrious estate.

Naturally, they initially hesitated in accepting his suit, since he lacked a name attached to a storied past. However, the influence exerted by his prosperous estates in Saint-Domingue convinced them to heartily consent to his courtship. Indeed, her enthusiasm at acquiescing to his proposal seemed the product of financial necessity. Regardless of her true desires, Fernand intended to take possession of his newly acquired property.

Once transplanted to her new home, he shall endeavour to mould her into the proper consort. His manhood responded to his lust by making the wearing of his breeches abruptly uncomfortable: a condition he looked forward to remedy once he found himself alone with his bride….

Juliette Laurent stood before the mirror as her bridesmaids fussed about her, tucking her dress and tying the corset so tight that she thought she might pass out. She was only 18 years old and this would be the day of her wedding.

Juliette knew very little of her husband to be, save for his name and residence along with his financial holdings which seemed to be considerable. She agreed to the marriage at her father’s ‘request’ and had traveled from Versailles with her family for the wedding in Paris. Her mother always preferred to stay near court as though it would propel their family into higher standing with the reigning royals. Juliette’s family stood to gain well financially from this marriage, although her fiancé had no titles, it was commonplace to marry for power and status, and money bought a lot of power. Their estate had seen better days, crop was failing all over their lands and her father was feeling the pressure to provide for their family as well as retain their holdings. Naturally Juliette saw this marriage as her duty to save her family from disgrace at court.

With her veil pulled over her face, Juliette took a deep breath to steady her nerves as she stepped out of the preparation room and into the hall, readying herself to take that long walk down the aisle. Her features were well hidden but she had a lovely face, high cheekbones, soft hands that had never seen a day’s work, her raven coloured hair held in pins beneath the veil. Juliette’s lips were painted with a soft rouge, her long legs hidden beneath the ivory gown and her reasonable breasts crushed into her chest and spilled from the top of the oppressive corset.

Juliette began her walk down the aisle, her eyes started on the floor as her arm interlocked with her father’s but soon her curiosity got the better of her and she lifted her eyes to look into her fiancé’s for the first time. She held her breath but released it upon seeing him, he was not unappealing to look at and he held himself well. Juliette took that as a good sign. As she reached the end of the aisle, she embraced her father gently and he stood aside, her bouquet of roses held steadily at her waist as the Archbishop began the service.

She was barely listening, her heartbeat thrumming in her ears as the blood coursed faster through her veins. She was extremely nervous but continued to smile as though nothing were wrong. She kept hearing her older sister’s words of ‘wisdom’ in her mind about what would come after the wedding. She was prepared but extremely anxious about her upcoming ‘performance’ in the consummation of the marriage. As she looked to her future husband, she wondered if he was too.

To the bridegroom, her figure (despite the layers of silk and lace draped over her virgin flesh) appealed to his loins. He fondly relished the excitement he felt at the prospect of deflowering this pale rose that knelt beside him as Archbishop de Beaumont offered them communion. His appetite for her concealed body peaked when he proclaimed his approbation for their union and placed the wedding ring upon her finger.

Impatience for the ceremony to end also peaked at this time; for the Baron de Olendon desired to immediately disrobe his bride and consummate their marriage. However, his outward demeanour only displayed joy as his bride spoke her wedding vows….

Juliette repeated after the Archbishop dutifully as he read her vows, trying to keep her voice soft and demure as her sister and mother instructed. She could barely breathe in her corset so it wasn’t incredibly difficult to be quiet. When she finished, her fiancé was asked to repeat the same words with the genders reversed and the word ‘obey’ was exchanged with ‘protect’. Finally the rings were produced and Juliette held her breath as it was slipped onto her finger, it had a sudden suffocating sensation. Juliette felt as though she was no longer her own person, she belonged to her new husband.

The big moment came and the Archbishop pronounced them husband and wife, it was time to seal the marriage with a kiss. The breath went out of Juliette as Fernand lifted her veil as was customary at this stage of the wedding. He saw her bright green eyes and the soft ruby red of her lips, the slight blush of her cheeks which could be attributed to her corset squeezing the life out of her. She leaned forward slightly, inviting his kiss but not taking the lead. Even if she wanted to, she wasn’t sure exactly how. She supposed a peck was appropriate or would he kiss her passionately? They hadn’t yet had an actual conversation and with their families watching, it should be proper. At least that’s what Juliette thought.

Fernand found the act of kissing his bride surprisingly pleasant. Her warm lips trembled with anticipation and he wondered if her other lips might quiver in the same manner. Whilst in close proximity to Juliette, Fernand additionally sensed the anxiousness expressed in the shallowness of his bride’s breathing. (Furthermore, she seemed to acquiesce when he presumed to insert his tongue within her accommodating orifice.)

Once the nuptial mass concluded, Fernand led his bride away from the altar and conducted Juliette to the carriage that shall transport them away from Notre Dame de Paris and onto their next destination: the wedding banquet at le Palais des Tuileries.

With an abundance of grace and courtesy, the bridegroom assisted his bride into coach; taking care to delicately place Juliette opposite him as he ordered the coachmen to commence their journey. He then turned to his bride and spoke the following as he stared into her emerald eyes: “Would Madame grant her husband a favour?”

Juliette was surprised when he thrust his tongue inside her mouth but relaxed swiftly and accommodated him lest he think she was childish or her mother berate her for not doing her duty to her husband. When the kiss broke, Fernand was swift in taking Juliette by the arm and leading her to the carriage that would convey them both to their wedding banquet.

Fernand held her skirts as a coachman opened the door, Juliette easily settled into the seat Fernand directed her to while he draped her skirts neatly so they would not be ruined. Finally, Fernand gave the order and the carriage lurched away from the Church. Juliette sat with her hands clasped in her lap, the picture of a lady (or so she hoped) but she was silent as she had no idea what to say. After all, she had married a complete stranger that day if she was honest with herself.

She kept a soft smile of welcome on her lips until he finally turned to her and asked if she might grant him a favour. Her eyebrows flew up in surprise but settled as her smile widened slightly, “Of course dear husband, I would grant you anything. I’m your wife now.”

Juliette didn’t realize how naïve her words might be, she simply wanted to be seen as the ever dutiful wife although she had no idea how a dutiful wife might act. Her mother had read her the playbook on it enough times and told her to stick to script and always say yes, even if she didn’t want to, even if she wasn’t sure as it was her duty to her husband. Her mother had very traditionalist and generic views on marriage and Juliette hoped she would find her own feet soon enough.

Scandalously lowering his hands until they reached the hem of Madame de Olendon’s skirt, Fernand slowly lifted Juliette’s petticoat; which revealed her shapely legs to his view as he said the following:

- Would Madame allow her husband the opportunity to inspect his wife’s maidenhead?

Her small, graceful feet aroused a strong desire to immediately take her toes into his orifice. Furthermore, as Fernand’s fingers touched the silk stockings covering his bride’s legs, he felt the warmth of her limbs increase (perhaps as a result of her kindling passion towards her newlywed husband.)

Then, resting her shodden feet upon the edge of his seating place, Monsieur de Olendon proceeded to guide his digits upwards to expose more of her legs for his inspection. When he reached her closed knees, he bade them part and permit him the privilege of surveying her Mound of Venus: a forest of black hair bordered by the tops of her stockings.

Whilst placing one hand upon the lacy garter securing her left stocking, Fernand extended his other hand to touch his wife’s loins. The tips of his fingers sensed the moistness of her sex – as if damp in anticipating of his initial touch. Indeed, the petals of her carnal flower opened with his attentive caresses and he soon found passage into her sheathe as he added:

- Forgive a husband’s desire to ascertain his wife’s virtue….

Juliette tried to maintain a neutral visage as Fernand slowly raised her skirts and found the petticoat beneath, her eyebrows raised questioningly but she made no move to stop him or ask what he was doing as she suspected she would find that out in time. Sure enough, he paused as he revealed her legs and explained his intentions.

“Would Madame allow her husband the opportunity to inspect his wife’s maidenhead?”

Juliette was taken aback this time, her eyes widened perceptibly and she swallowed her shock as quickly as she could. At first it was quite a surprise and then Juliette experienced a flurry of emotions following that, shame and embarrassment at the idea of him putting his hands there. She knew this would happen but she didn’t think it would be on the carriage ride to the reception! She was incredibly nervous about the consummation of their marriage as it was, this was not improving things. Then Juliette was somewhat insulted and angry, he didn’t believe she was a virgin? How could he think that? He thought she was some kind of shameless whore?!

Juliette quietened her inner turmoil by reasoning with herself and trying desperately to put herself in her husband’s shoes. He had spent a great deal of money on this, on her, and taken a risk. He would be forced to believe her father knew she was a virgin when the only person who could possibly know was Juliette herself. He would want to know his property was untouched and that any children conceived of their nuptials would undoubtedly be his. At this thought, Juliette parted her legs slowly and allowed her husband entry to her most private of places.

“Of course…” She almost whispered and looked out the window, too red faced and ashamed to look her husband in the eye lest he think less of her.

She felt rather than saw his hands move up and delve between her legs with a surprising amount of gentleness given most men had rather rough and calloused hands. She felt her lower lips part between his fingers as he slipped inside her moist pussy. Juliette bit her lip and held her breath and stared hard out the window, wishing she could dive out of it.

As soon as he ascertained his virginity, Juliette was forced to look at him as he spoke again, “Forgive a husband’s desire to ascertain his wife’s virtue….”

Juliette nodded slowly, her cheeks still flushed and her blood thrumming in her ears as her pussy had become very hot all of a sudden, “It’s your right Fernand…I…I would probably do the same in your place. There is a lot of liars in this world, I cannot blame you for wanting to see for yourself. Any children I bear will certainly be yours...”

- Most certainly… indeed… Madame….

Monsieur de Olendon spoke absentmindedly as he inspected the virginal vintage escaping from Madame de Olendon’s excited loins. To his fingers, the liquid felt slippery and untainted by the corruption that one associates with the pox. Judging her ejaculate safe to consume, Fernand then brought his probing digit into his orifice. The tart taste testified to her virtue and excellent constitution. (Furthermore, his olfactory savoured the delicious aroma of her womanhood, which he deemed quite superior.)

On the other hand, while he achieved his goal of ascertaining her virginity, Monsieur de Olendon desired further exploration of her sex. Thus, lowering his countenance before her slightly parted petals, he took his hands and pried open the lips concealing Juliette’s vestibule. Immediately, the pleasing fragrance of an aroused woman wafted into his nose, and Fernand knew only that he wanted to feast upon her Mound of Venus.

However, before undertaking this carnal adventure into his wife’s genitals, Monsieur de Olendon returned his attention to Juliette visage. While hands gently massaged the pearl hidden within the depths of a black forest of pubic hair, and the passage located directly below her clitoral hood; Fernand de Olendon declared to his bride:

- Forgive me, Madame, but I cannot resist….

Shortly after he addressed Madame de Olendon, Fernand replaced his deftly fondling hands with his equally agile tongue. As his nose inhaled the perfume of Juliette’s vaginal scent, Monsieur de Olendon demonstrated his facility with the art of cunnilingus. Initially suckling upon her hidden clitoris, he then turned his lingual ministrations upon her gaping orifice. The dripping nectar flowing from her cunt proved that she approved of his attentive adoration as kissed her inner lips. Next, after lightly biting her blossoming Labia Minora, he delicately traced the tip of his tongue along the circumference of her opening.

Unfortunately for Monsieur de Olendon, the carriage’s sudden stop informed him that they indeed arrived at the Tuileries Garden. Quickly licking her vaginal juices from his lips, he promptly lowered Juliette’s skirts and opened the door. After stepping outside the carriage, Fernand extended his hand as he said:

- Will you allow me the honour of assisting you out of the carriage, Madame?

Fernand’s fingers tickled playfully at her lower lips and clitoris, Juliette was flushed and her breathing was a little heavier, a little faster and she started to feel hotter in her dress. Her bodice felt tighter suddenly and she swallowed hard as Fernand felt encouraged to take this exploration further still.

“Forgive me, Madame, but I cannot resist….”

Juliette snapped her eyes open, unsure of the moment they had closed. She watched her husband dip his head down to her greet her lower lips and she held her breath. Her eyes widened as she could hardly believe he would put his mouth down there. But her cunt felt enflamed with desire and gushed the moment his tongue tickled her clitoris. She moaned involuntarily, a soft feminine whimper slipping from her securely pursed lips.

She squirmed beneath his ministrations, she was uncomfortable and yet aroused by his touch. No one had ever told her that her husband would do this. She gripped the seat beneath her, digging her nails firmly into the fabric covering as another moan escaped her and she closed her eyes. Watching him was turning her on even more, Juliette felt that for the first time in her life, she had absolutely no control over her body’s responses.

Juliette barely registered the sudden stop of the carriage, if it weren’t for Fernand stopping and pulling her skirts down to retain her modesty, Juliette was sure she wouldn’t have noticed at all. He stepped out of the carriage as Juliette tried to calm her breathing and smoothed her cheeks, certain that the hot flush would betray everything.

“Will you allow me the honour of assisting you out of the carriage, Madame?”

Juliette nodded dumbly and placed her hand in Fernand’s, allowing him to balance her as she lifted her heavy skirts from the carriage. She walked arm in arm with him into the hall, doors were opened for the newlyweds but Juliette’s mind was not on task, her body was on autopilot. Her mind was buried in her aroused pussy, she kept glancing at her husband’s face but he seemed to just smile politely at everyone as though nothing had happened moments ago and he was unaware of his wife’s discomfort…and desire.

They were announced at the doors and everyone stood, clapping as they made their way across the hall and found their seats at the centre table overlooking their guests with their bridesmaids and groomsmen. Juliette sat beside her husband as someone (she barely paid attention, her eyes remained fixated on Fernand, hoping he would offer her reassurance that no one else would know) filled her wine goblet. Juliette’s hand found the glass without looking and she took a deeper than appropriate ‘sip’, earning a disapproving glare from her mother who sat a few seats down from her. Juliette pretended not to notice and put the glass down, pointedly staring in the opposite direction as if interested in the guests over to her left. Her eyes shifted from the guests however and quickly came back to her husband, she fidgeted and wondered if it would be appropriate to hold his hand at that moment. She was out of her element and for the first time ever, Juliette desperately wanted the awkward social situation to end, she was not really enjoying this party…but it would endure, it would be extremely inappropriate to end it before the guests could feast and dance. Juliette prayed it got easier soon but she could not ignore the throbbing in her loins…

Thrilled by his bride’s disturbed state, Monsieur de Olendon grasped his spouse’s hand in reassurance:

- Would Madame like to continue where we left off?

He whispered as he lowered his hand underneath the table. There, he quietly worked the hem of her dress until her legs and privates lay exposed to his touch. As his palm lay atop her pubic mound, Fernand gently stroked his hand along her hairy muff and added:

- As I am Madame’s humble servant…

While he awaited her answer, Monsieur de Olendon took his middle finger and delicately spread her inner lips. To his pleasant surprise, Fernand found Juliette quite aroused and accommodating to his penetration. He next removed his digit from her cunt hole and rubbed her labia in circles:

- I require Madame’s consent before proceeding….

In the midst of his stimulating conversation with his bride, Monsieur de Olendon also spoke with well-wishers and those seated next to him:

- Madame has raised a lovely daughter….

He commented to Juliette’s mother as he raised a champagne coupe in honour of Madame Laurent. The unexpected compliment distracted her and she immediately forgot about wanting to chastise her daughter for reasons she failed to recollect as the wedding party toasted her parental skills:

- Thank you…

She managed to say before the cheers drowned out her voice. Then quickly turning to Juliette’s father, Fernand instructed a footman to refill his glass before saying:

- Monsieur has my gratitude for persuading His Majesty in allowing us to use the Tuileries….

Suddenly, raising his coupe high in the air, he yelled:

- To the King!

Naturally, all toasted to King Louis’ health as Monsieur Laurent hurriedly saluted his monarch before quaffing the contents of his glass. Unfortunately for Madame de Olendon, the moment to cut the newly arrived wedding cake came before she uttered her response. Kissing Juliette in the cheek, Fernand rose and offered his vaginally perfumed hand to his bride:

- Shall we go and cut the cake, Madame?