Birth of a Sadist

[Honey_B]

A thread for Ariosto and Honey B

A young woman stood watching a bizarre procession, flaggellants marching up the street. She was Celeste Moreau, the eldest daughter of a rich merchant. Pushing her long chestnut hair impatiently out of her face, her blue eyes widened in surprise as the parade passed her. The men were stripped to the chest. Each carried a hard leather whip festooned with little iron spikes which he brought down, rhythmically and slowly, across the back of the one proceding him. Bent and bloody, the procession snaked toward Notre Dame where they would be turned away as religious fanatics.

Celeste watched with fascination. Some appeared to be in agony, others simply exhausted. And some appeared to have gone beyond the pain and entered what looked like esctasy. As one man passed by, she could not stop herself, she reached out to caress his mutilated back.

"What do you suppose it feels like?"

She whirled around and saw a darkly handsome man looking at her with interest. "What are you taking about?

"The whip, of course," his said with a sardonic smile.

Celeste did not have to consider the question for long. "Pain beyond my ability to imagine it."

The man spoke as if she had not, "At first, there is terrible pain but still it seems bearable, or so you think. The lash keeps falling and the pain mounts. It fills your whole body, your whole being. At that moment, you could sell your soul to make it stop. You think that you cannot possibly bear it another moment that you'll lose consciousness or die. Then it's as though the body becomes so completely overwhelmed. There is a giddiness. You laugh, you scream, you weep. You have gone beyond pain. It is still there, but it's not part of your body anymore."

Celeste gasped and asked with complete naivite. "How could you possibly know about such things?

"I do not participate in such acts myself, but I am aquainted with many who feel what I have described is the epitome of ecstasy. They are woman who are very explicit in their descriptions and reward my curiosity with candor. Allow me to introduce myself. I am DeSade, Hubert-Donatien de Sade."

Despite herself, Celeste allowed the man to place a kiss on the back of her hand and gave him a small smile. Surely he was of nobility given the way that he was dressed.

 

[ariosto]

They watched in silence as the end of the cruel procession passed and the crowd began to disperse.
"Well thank you for sharing your knowledge with me Monsieur De..."
She colored instantly, a delightful blush he thought.
"I mean ..."
"No no!"
He took her arm and moved her away from the street.
"Please, beauty such as yours creates instant equality !"
His sensuous lips parted in a smile and again he took her hand and kissed it.
"You may call me Hubert, and you?"

She withdrew her hand which seemed strangely warm and sensitive from the touch of his lips.
Celeste looked him boldly in the eye suddenly feeling much more sure of herself. Though still a virgin, she had become aware very early of what her looks could do to men. She was beginning to play with the power they seemed to offer her. DeSade,so handsome and a nobleman no less.

"I am Celeste Moreau, my father is the owner of the..."
He held his hands to her lips.
"Speak only of yourself my dear, for I must admit you enchant me."

He saw her for what she was, a striking young woman , just becoming aware of her own beauty. Developing a certain arrogance in regards to her importance in the world. A proud offspring of the nouveau riche...She was prime. She would be a delightful subject. Yes just the kind of girl he would enjoy most thoroughly.

They walked up the street for a block or two exchanging pleasentries and small talk. When they reached the corner of the Rue de Jardins
he stopped and looked at her.
"Did you find those poor men fascinating to watch Celeste."
She blushed again, but he saw the hard glitter in her eyes.
"Umm..Why yes, they were....very...interesting."

DeSade laughed,
"Interesting! oh yes indeed they were....."
His voice trailed off but he continued to look at her.
She became uncomfortable.
"I must go mon...Hubert, and I thank you."

"Wait."
It was almost a command, she hesitated.

"Tomorrow, I will be in the park." He nodded over his shoulder.
"I may have something of interest to propose to you."

Tomorrow...
"I'm afraid I won't be..."
He stopped her with an arresting smile.
"I will be there reagardless, Celeste. Please come by around four in the afternoon if you'd
like to satisfy your curiosity."

 

[Honey_B]

Celeste Moreau

Les Jardins de Cappuchin was beautiful this time of year and so was Celeste. She had dressed to ensure that fact, taking exceeding care with her choice of dress. A damask silk gown in a subtle shade of blue. The color was reminiscent of the cornflowers that grew in the fields just outside of the city. The cut of the gown was quite daring for a day dress, plunging just this side of decorum. Celeste's coy solution - To add a wisp of Brussels lace around the neckline, hiding her treasures behind spiderwebs.

Celeste smiled a bit as she walked. An observer could have noted that her expression seemed reminiscent of one captured by an famous Italian painter. She had that look of anticipating something that had the delicious possibility of being a bit wicked.

For that is what had drawn Celeste to the park in the end. She had a tedious life. Endless nagging about marriage filled her days. It wasn't that she didn't want to get married. She just found every suitor who happened to call, endlessly boring. It always became difficult to imagine spending another hour with them, much less the rest of her life.

Celeste came to a lovely little bench overlooking a rose garden. She contemplated whether it would create a better effect standing or sitting. And she desperately wanted to make a favorable impression on Hubert-Donatien de Sade. She still shivered when she remembered the way he had looked at her. He was decidedly not boring. Not when he talked of the things he had. The sensuality of the whip. Despite herself, Celeste gasped with remembering.

 

[ariosto]

Meeting in the jardin

An hour passed and the soft fragrant beauties of the garden began to pale. The afternoon light had deepened and there was the hint of a chill in the air.

Four he had said. She remembered quite clearly...four. Yes he'd said four. No mistake.
Of course she'd been late, fashionably so, but surely he expected that!
She got up and began to stroll up and down the pathways pretending to be ever so interested in the flowers but her mind was seething.
No one had ever stood her up. Not Celeste Moreau!
Even now young men were smiling at her as they passed, bowing and trying to make small talk.

"Oh Fie!"
She said out loud.
It must be close to six. That man, that Hubert whatever DeSade was a wretch...he was a...

"Celeste!"
The voice wiped away her dark thoughts and her heart beat faster.
She looked around but saw no one.

"Celeste", he laughed.
"I'm over here."
An elegant carriage was standing at the curb, it's black lacquered sides gleaming in the golden light.
DeSade was leaning out beckoning her over.
She tried not to rush, tried to feign indifference, even anger.

"Monsieur," she said haughtily
"I am unused to be kept waiting. I beleive I shall..."
The words caught in her throat.

Sitting next to him was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She was tall and dark, with hair as black as the carriage sides. Lips full and generous, red as rubies..eyes of a startling piercing blue. Her bosom was not hid behind brussels lace but revealed in a plunging neckline that...
"Comtesse may I introduce you to my dear new friend Celeste Moreau. Celeste this is the Comtesse Chanal Marie de Béziers."
he gave the extraordinary woman an intimate kiss on the cheek.

Chanal smiled and held out an elegantly gloved hand to Celeste
who had begun to curtsy instinctively.
"No my sweet child."
The woman's voice was surprisingly deep and the accent was certainly Spanish.
"Like Hubert, I do not stand on ceremony."

"Please join us Celeste ",
Hubert slid over on the seat patting the empty space. The coachman dismounted to give her a hand up.

"You see when you were not here at four, the Comtesse was kind enough to engage my afternoon and keep me from being too terribly desolate."
His words were friendlyenough but Celeste sensed a sharp edge to them.

"Poor Hubert can be trés impatient mon chere."
The Countess was looking at her appraisingly.

A shiver passed through Celeste and it was not from the chill breeze that had begun to blow.

 

[Honey_B]

Not only had she been put in her place, but Celeste began to feel terrible provincial. She no longer felt so sure of herself. Not with the exquisite Comtesse sitting across from her, looking like the definition of exotic beauty. She was at a loss for what to say. To stall, she fished a fan out of her reticule and snapped it open.

She hated losing the attention of Hubert, especially to one as beautiful as the Comtesse. Celeste fluttered the lace fan prettily, holding it in front of her so that part of her face was obscured.

"Unusually warm for an afternoon at this time of year, is it not?"

She snapped the fan shut with a click and slid the lace from around her neck, revealing the youthful beauty of her own curves. Celeste dabbed the delicate lace to her cleavage as if it weren't one of most precious possessions, but an old handkerchief.

"Quite warm."

Celeste looked up through her lashes to see if Hubert was noticing her flirtations.

 

[ariosto]

Indeed it is.Very warm.
He gestured to the coachman and the big landau began to move into the street.

What exquisite lace child.
The Comtesse reached right across DeSade and slipped her fingers under the delicate fabric, the back of her hand resting on the soft swell of Celeste's bosom.
Look at the pattern Hubert...isn't it divine?

He looked, his gaze slipping easily into the shadowed valley between her breasts.
Oh yes..perfect. Perfectly divine.

Celeste colored and a flush spread across her pale skin.
I am not a child Countess. Please do not call me that.

The elegant woman dropped the lace and smiled.
Of course your not dear, it was only a figure of speeech.

DeSade laughed and threw his arm over the girl's shoulder.
What spirit she has! Come now Chanal don't be vexed!

And then he kissed her! He kissed her on the cheek....in public!
She was about to protest, to raise her hand and strike him when the deep voice of the Countess broke in.
I'm not vexed at all Hubert. In fact I was wondering if Celeste might enjoy the little entertainment we are going to?

 

[Honey_B]

Celeste’s cheeks where now tinged a delicate pink and it had nothing to do with the temperature within the coach. Her skin had warmed considerably from Hubert’s kiss. She snapped open her fan at glanced furtively from him to the Comtesse. The fan hid a secret smile. She was dying to know the nature of their relationship. Celeste suspected it was something outside of her realm of experience, which wasn’t much. It wasn’t a sense of decorum that kept her from asking, however. Celeste was a girl who always thrilled in flaunting conventions. No, she just had not intention of appearing more naïve than she already had.

Instead she asked in her most sophisticated voice, “Entertainment? And what might that be, Comtesse de Béziers?”

 

[ariosto]

DeSade double posts!

 

[ariosto]

The house on the rue desFleurs was not large but exquisitely designed and set back in a garden full of gayly colored flowers.
Several rich carriages were drawn up in front of it and DeSade's joined them.
He helped Celeste from her seat and then walked around to give the Comtesse his hand.
As the three of them approached a door painted a deep burgundy red the young woman's aprehensions began to grow.

what am I doing here, she tought...I don't know these people...I don't...

The door opened and an incredibly beautiful boy of not more than 14 let them in.
He smiled at them and bowed.
DeSade patted his curly black hair.
"Phillipe, you charming child where is everyone this evening?"

"In Madame's salon. It is a small gathering tonight m'Lord. Very select..."
He eyed Celeste with frank curiosity. She had never seen such a lovely face on a man..a boy.
He was from a Renaissance painting...

"Tell Madame that I am here with the Comtesse deBézieres and a special guest."
He took Celeste's hand and kissed it.
"A very special guest."

Chanal laughed and stroked the girls cheek with her long fingers,
"Don't worry my dear you are going to see something quite unique. Something Hubert thinks you will enjoy tremendously."

 

[Honey_B]

Celeste’s toes curled within her blue satin slippers. Excitement made her bold and she stepped further into the entry hall. The room lacked the ostentatious show of wealth with which her maman had decorated their townhouse. No, this room threw off an air of the casual decadence, rather like DeSade himself.

Celeste anticipated a delightful little soiree from the tantalizing hints of the Comtesse. She simply couldn’t wait to tell her little sister, Marie Louise, about this. The little snip would be pea green with envy and Celeste vowed to remember every detail. What delicious fun!

From a nearby room, Celeste heard music. Even the untrained ears of Celeste could appreciate the ethereal notes of a harp played by talented fingers. The low hum of conversation accompanied the music.

“Let us not dally in the doorway, my dear.”

The Comtesse laid her hands gently on Celeste’s shoulders and guided her into the salon. She glanced behind her to see if DeSade followed. He did, a mysterious smile on his face.

 

[ariosto]

As they entered the plush salon, Phillippe handed each of them an elegant lacquered mask to hold before their faces. The Marquis' was ebony black and had a lupine look to it, the Comtesse's was white and feathered like a snow owl. Celeste Moreau was given one rich in many enameled colors and she seemed to be peering from the opened wings of a butterfly.

Although they were supposedly disguised, both deSade and Bézziers nodded and greeted many of the patrons as the boy led them to a small marble table from which they could easily see onto a shallow curtained stage just a few meters away.
The Marquis muttered something to him and he hurried away giving Celeste a naughty and impertinant smile as he went by.

"Who was that child?"
There was a nervous edge to her voice. She'd never been in company like this. It was warm, almost uncomfortably so and the smell of the women's and the men's perfumes was almost overpowering.

DeSades eyes glittered behind the mask.
"Phillipe is a ward of the House you might say. I've sent him to bring us a bottle of spirits...very fine spirits I assure you. You have no objection do you?...Wine is too tame an accompaniment for this evenings...ahhh, entertainement."
The Countess laughed and Celeste nodded. The girl had little experience with wine and none at all with spirits but she'd be damned if she'd let them know of it!

"Dear guests...welcome."

It was a man's voice, a rich deep baritone but it came from the vermillion mouth of one of the most grotesquely ugly women in Paris.
DeSade leaned close and whispered, his hand lay nonchalantly on her leg...
"Madame GrandeCoeure, our hostess..."

"This evening we shall enjoy the punishment of young Emilie Marie Pouverre. The wretched girl has been sent to us for discipline by her employer, a certain Comté who cannot attend this soireé in person. It would seem the silly creature spurned the advances made by the Comté's nonble and handsome son to plant his seed in her.
Can you imagine!"

The audience all muttered in disbelief at such gross disrespect. DeSade's other hand had slipped into the long covered slit that rent the Comtessa's dress from hem to waist. Her olive skin was warm and firm.
He watched the girl Celeste who seemed mesmerised by the
bizarre creature on the stage.

"Shall we look upon this righteous little virgin?...Shall we feast our eyes upon this Misguided Maiden whose odious virtue that she so stupidly protected, shall be claimed here tonight?!"

"Yes...YES!"
The patrons chorused and Madame GrandeCoeure stepped aside as the curtains slowly opened.

 

[Honey_B]

Celeste Moreau

Celeste uttered a feeble little squeek and her hands flew to her eyes. When they came into contact with the masque, she felt foolish once again. She averted her eyes and noticed DeSade's hand had disappeared into the elegant folds of the Countess's dress. Celeste was horrified. She was barely able to acknowledge the pleasure she gave herself when she touched her own body. To see a man touch a woman down there! And in public! Why it was simply unthinkable. Celeste stood up abruptly.

"Sit down!" DeSade hissed.

Without knowing why, Celeste automatically obeyed his command. Just then, Phillipe returned bearing a bottle of pale green liquid on a gilt tray.

"Absinthe, my petit papillon." The charming tones had returned to DeSade's voice.

Celeste watched mesmorized as the boy poured the liquid over a sugar cube held by an ornate silver spoon. DeSade leaned over and plucked the sugar from the it.

"This little delicacy is for you, my sweet. Allow it to dissolve in your mouth."

Despite herself, Celeste opened her mouth and allowed him to place the cube on her tongue. DeSade caressed her cheek before his hand left her face and she felt moisture on her skin. Her eyes darted to his fingers. They glistened in the flickering light. Realization came crashing in around her and Celeste almost choked on her sugar. Her hands flew to her cheek, feeling as if she had been branded with the Countess's juices. Amusement sparkled in Chanal's eyes.

"Celeste, you are missing the entertainment."

She turned to regard the stage once more, surprised to see that everything had begun to soften around the edges. The curtains had parted completely. A girl, wearing only a chemise had been affixed to a large wheel, her arms and legs spread apart almost painfully. The grotesque GrandeCoeure stood before Emilie, a large knife in her hand.

"Beg for it, cher, or let your continued resistance add to your punishments."

In a voice ripped from the very depths of her soul, Emilie cried out, "Please punish me. Please cut away my modesty."

"With pleasure, ma petite putain."

The sound of ripping cloth was clearly audible in the otherwise silent room. Celeste actually felt the anticipation of the riveted crowd. Strange that she felt no pity. Celeste licked her lips with breathless expectation.

 

[ariosto]

The girl was pale and quite beautiful. Blond hair cascaded down over her shoulders and partially covered the high points of her young breasts. She was breathing fast her eyes wide in fright and fixed on the heavy mishapen form of Madam GrandeCoeur in whose hand gleamed a long slender blade...
"Behold the obsinate child!...what a morsel to devour n'est pas?"

Indeed she was. Even DeSade whose jaded tastes were rarely piqued, found himself stiff and throbbing beneath their table.
Taking Chantal's hand he placed it on the growing bulge of his cock.
She laughed and began to gently squeeze it.
"You like her Hubert..would you like her delivered to your Hotel?"

DeSade kissed the ravishing Comtesse full on the lips, his tongue snaking between her lips.
"I will have her there tonight mon chere.", he breathed against her cheek and then turned his attention back to the stage.

Celeste, her mind swimming, her senses reeling, observed this lascivious byplay and found that she was growing warm and very moist between her legs...

The bound girl cried out!
GrandCoeure was pressing the sharp edge of the knife against the trembling skin of her belly, her fat fingers were rubbing the
soft down covered swell of Emilie's mons.

The audience grew silent, watching intently.
The temperature in the room seemed to soar!
Celeste once again felt DeSade's fingers on her thigh, slowly stroking the sensitive skin beneath the silk and petticoats...she
seemed frozen incapable of action...she knew she should leave...she couldn't.

"Who..."
Called the strange deep voice of their hostess.
"Who would like to pluck this little bird, eh?"
She had pulled a tuff of pale blond pubic hair from the girl's downy quim and deftly shaved it with her blade, blowing it into the fevered crowd.

 

[Honey_B]

Celeste’s own sex twitched as she watched the girl’s defilement. After the first volunteer, much of the crowd had become a pack of hyenas, tearing at the golden nest of the delicate little bird. It was with great difficulty that Celeste tore her eyes away from the stage and looked down at her lap.

Nothing from her upbringing could have explained why she parted her thighs ever so slightly as DeSade touched her leg. This seemed to give him all he needed. DeSade slid his hand to the place where her legs joined. The pressure was subtle. Celeste wore all the undergarments required for decorum, but the touch was enough to set her on fire. Enough to let her know she wanted more.

She dragged her eyes away from his elegant hand to DeSade’s face. He watched the stage, now and again lowering his head to say something to the Comtesse. Anger flared up within her proud, young heart. She covered DeSade’s hand with her own, opened her legs still further, and pressed him closer to the center of her.

DeSade immediately snatched his hand from her grasp and caressed Chanel’s cheek with it. He bent to whisper in the Comtesse’s ear. Chanel looked at Celeste and laughed, amusement making her eyes dance. Naked humiliation smacked Celeste in the face.

“Hubert, I… I…”

Even to her own ears her voice sounded feeble. She stood up abruptly and quickly exited the room, walking as quickly as her little feet could carry her. At the entryway door, Celeste paused. She turned around, fully expecting to see DeSade coming after her. The entry hall was empty. She lingered for a moment, then two, her hand on the door. Still no one came after her.

It was more than she could bear. Angry tears sprang to her eyes. She opened the door and walked out into the night.

 

[ariosto]

"DeSade you are incorrigable!"
Chantal laughed behind her mask.
"That poor girl...Really you must go and catch her."

"And leave this little play, just as it becomes interesting!"
His hand, so recently pressed aginst Celeste's warm arousal, now slipped within the Comtesse's bodice and began to play with the softly straining buds within.

"Hubert..." she said with an edge to her voice.
His breath was warm on her neck, his other hand toying with the
downy delta beneath her skirts.
"Hubert, look at that girl. I think I know her."

DeSade reluctantly tore his attention from his provacative companion and looked closely at young Emilie who, still stretched out upon the wheel, was being gamouched by one of Madame Grandecoeurs muscular stallions. A young man clad only in a brief leather apron, his bronzed and oiled body agleam in the candle light.
The girl's horror at the violation had given way to euphoria and now she looked down into the mans eyes with an expression approaching ecstacy, as his tongue worked it's magic within her writhing body,
DeSade had seen that face and that expression before.
"Mon Dieu!...it's Camille Lavassere."

Chantal nodded in agreement, for it was indeed the young woman they had hired one night a few weeks ago to be their obediant 'slave'. It had all worked out so well in fact they had given her twice the original renumeration and a promise to recommend her to others with the same...interests.
That had been in Lyons. The girl had not been seen in Paris before...not to DeSades knowledge anyway.
He felt outraged...cheated.
He rose suddenly from the table.

"You decieve us!"

The room hushed and Camille's dreamy eyes jerked away from the face so intently active betweeen her legs to rest on the insanely angry eyes of DeSade. He pushed the table away violently and strode onto the stage.
Madame GrandeCoeur put her formidable bulk between him and the girl, but he knocked her sprawling and picked up the riding crop which she'd dropped.

"How dare you foist this jaded trollop on us as an innocent!"
He lashed out at her but the fat woman managed to crawl away.
The bull who'd been servicing Camille made as if to confront him but was brought up short by DeSade's pistol staring him in the face.

"Get off the stage!..NOW!"

Almost instantly the stage was empty save for DeSade and the weeping girl.

"No one leave...I'm going to show you how to punish this lying bitch."

As the first vicious blows of the crop tore into Camilles tender skin, Chantal sighed.
They would need another 'innocent', a real virgin to truly satisfy him. And through him...herself.

 

[Honey_B]

Celeste stormed into her home, her skirts swirling around her ankles as she twisted around and slammed the door.

“Zut, Celeste! What is it? Where have you been all this time.”

Eyes flashing with fury, Celeste regarded her mother. Something in the girl’s expression told Madame Moreau to still her tongue. At such times, the girl reminded Gabrielle so much of her own father that the woman feared her daughter. They had never been close and the distance seemed to grow with each passing year. Madame Moreau had little hope her daughter would ever confide in her.

Celeste went straight to her bedroom. She closed with another slam and Celeste sank onto her bed. Completely unable to hold back any longer, the full force of her emotions flooded out. Tears rained down upon her cheeks and she pounded the coverlet with her fists, screaming into the soft material.

So cruel! Such a disgrace! Horror! Humiliation! All this brought down on myself!

Her face burned with remembering. She could not escape the memory of the way DeSade had touched her, where he had touched her. Celeste ground her fists into her eyes until she saw stars, but she could not forget how it had felt. With trembling fingers, she wrenched up the many layers of her clothing, seeking out the slit in her drawers. Feeling more than a bit self-conscious, she closed her eyes and pretended that her hand was his. What would she have done if he had touched her there. Celeste’s fingers slid along the length of her slit, teasing herself. Or there. She spread her legs further, parting her silken folds. Mon Dieu, it would have been so delicious! Her fingers sought out that tiny treasure, the delicate little button that she had only recently discovered could bring her so much pleasure. She gasped as she pinched her clitoris, enjoying the little jolt of pleasure mixed with pain that it gave her. With a caressing touch, she massaged the tiny organ. Moving lightly. Teasing herself. Her thoughts turned feverish as she remembered the girl up on stage. What might if have been like to be her! To be stripped bare before an audience, to stand naked before DeSade. Celeste’s fingers became slick with her juices and her pelvis began to grind against her hand.

“A-CHOO!”

Celeste’s eyes flew open. Marie Claire had opened her door and stood staring, her eyes huge and luminous in the soft light, transfixed by what her sister was doing. Celeste’s fingers did not pause even as her eyes locked with Marie’s. Embarrassment suffused her body yet again, but this time it served to feed her lust. She writhed on the bed, watching her sister as Celeste brought herself to an orgasm like a common whore. Sensations built until she could keep her eyes open no longer, but she knew Marie could her the sound of her working finger and her blissful cries.

After her climax, Celeste withdrew her hand and pulled down her skirts. Walking over to Marie, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Marie, have you not learned to knock before entering.”

Her voice was sweet, with only a hint of menace. Celeste’s hand shot out and grasped Marie Claire by the chin. When she spoke again, the sweetness had melted away.

“Do not think to tell Maman or Pappa about this or you will pay dearly, ma colombe.”

Marie nodded and Celeste released her before closing the door in her sister’s face. Cold fingers of dread clutched at Celeste’s throat. How would she ever reach Hubert-Donatien de Sade again. She could not think how. Even her vain little heart knew he might not contact her. She could only hope.

 

[ariosto]

DeSade was sleeping. He lay on the bed arms akimbo in the warm late morning late, his handsome face turned to the window, an errant breeze ruffling his fine auburn hair.
Chantal trailed a long nailed finger across his chest. Pale but well formed, muscular and broad. It was genetics she decided, for Hubert like his father tended to shun anything physical...she smiled..well, almost anything physical.

She bent low, her dark hair cascading over his smooth skin and licked his nipples, tight hard little versions of her own. She nipped at them and he moaned in response but still seemed content to slumber on.
With a sigh the Comtesse gathered her chemise around her, stood up and walked back to her writing desk.

It had been a long night. When he'd finally finished with the girl...and he did finish as always just before it was to late...
They'd taken the carriage back to her Hotel and he had torn off her clothes and ravished her brutaly before they'd gone two blocks.
It had been terribly satisfying to her but not for poor Hubert who couldn't reach his own denoument inspite of all she did to coax him to it. She had learned long ago not to try too directly for it would only invite his rage. A DeSade would never stand for the least hint of being patronized in any way.
After they returned, she'd allowed him to restrain her and indulge himself however he wished but that too had failed. In this case failed softly into a wine induced oblivian. And so he slept.

Chantal picked up the brief note written in her exquisite hand. A fine caligraphy which had brought her many paludits in the convent school that had been responsible for both her early education and her apprenticeship in perversion.

She read...

[/i]"My dear Celeste..
I do apologise for allowing Hubert to take one with the refined tastes that you so obviously possess to such a public and outrageous display of abuse and discipline. He, alas lacks some of the breeding and courtliness that are so much apart of his father the Marquis. But we grew up together and I do my best to humor him. We are cousins afterall.
I would like to make this up to you if I may in part, by asking you to attend a small soireé I'm hosting at my country home.
Le Chateau Gris near Barbizon. It will be a very quiet and select affair I assure you, though entertaining as well of course.
If you would consider this, I'll have a carriage pick you up at a place of your choosing at let's say three in the afternoon, friday next? Please pack an overnight valise as it will be quite impossible to return you home till morning. You'll have private accomadations and everything will be done to make your visit with us a delightful one.

RSVP, my dear child....

Yours,
Chantal de Guermere,
your most repentant, Comtesse de Bezieres[/i]

There! she thought. Let's see if that shall awaken my poor sleeping tiger.

 

[Honey_B]

Celeste’s delicate mouth formed a small ‘o’ at the sight of the chateau and her pulse quickened with excitement. She felt as if they had been traveling for hours upon hours instead of the short carriage ride from Paris. She felt Gabrielle pat her on the knee and Celeste turned impatient eyes onto her mother. Nothing she could do or say had convinced Gabrielle Marie de Claire Moreau to allow her daughter to attend this soiree unescorted, not even if it were being held by a member of the aristocracy. Gabrielle had stood up to her daughter for once.

“Straighten yourself, cher. You must present yourself well. There are sure to be gentlemen for you to meet.”

Celeste instantly thought of Hubert. Would he even be there? The man had been haunting her dreams since the day they had met. She woke every night, her bedclothes twisted around her heated body, an ache between her legs that could only be soothed by her fingers. In the quiet light of the carriage, Celeste squeezed her legs together with remembering.

The driver opened the door and Celeste accepted his hand as she got out. Le Chateau Gris glittered in the cool night air and Celeste pulled her wrap up around her shoulders. Great care had been put into her dress by both Celeste and Madame Moreau - A robin’s egg silk that emphasized her bright blue eyes. The cut nipped at her insignificant waist but the neckline was demure, emphasizing her innocent beauty. Her eyes were wide as she stepped up to the grand doors, leaving her mother to make her own way.

 

[ariosto]

"She's bringing her mother!"
DeSade stepped away from the window.
"How utterly fascinating."

Chantal extended a graceful leg and pulled the fine silk hose slowly up it's length.

"It was the only way she'd be allowed to come. Now please Hubert be a dear and tie this garter for me will you?"

He knelt beside her and slid his hands along her thighs until they touched the powdered down between her legs.
"Only if I'm allowed a sip of nectre first thou devious one."

The comtesse lay back on the chaise lounge and spread her legs apart to allow his handsome face to slip between and sighed.

Desade's tongue began a gentle stroking of her tiny pearl and his long fingers slipped like small serpents into her body.
There really was no time for this, but oh she loved it so....

Downstairs Celeste and her mother were ushered into an exquisitely appointed parlor by a tall, handsome man in the Beziere's livery of argent and azure de mer, who introduced himself as Jean Claude their special servant for the evening and assured them that they were not the only guests invited but were indeed the first to arrive.
This news flustered poor Madam Moreau no end. She had timed their arrival to be ever so fashionably late and the handsome woman's countenance was a play of disapointment and confusion.

"Oh...calm down mama, they'll be here soon."
Celeste settled down on a satin covered divan looking surprisingly calm and rested all things considered.
"Very soon I'm quite sure indeed."

DeSade licked the salt sweet taste from his lips as he watched Chantal put herself back together a quite delightful scene which served to highten even more his anticipation of the evening to come.
"So tell me, is la Mere as promising a plaything as her daughter?"

Comtesse Bezieres paused, she had considered the older Moreau a nuisance but DeSade question had opened up a whole new realm of possibilities.

 

[Honey_B]

“Your Comtesse est très old-fashioned, n’est pas.”

Gabrielle held the nez pince to her face as she bent low to examine a chair in minute detail. Her ample breasts nearly spilled from the low-cut bodice of her gown.

Celeste tapped her fan in her gloved palm as she impatiently regarded her mother.

“Rather, I think Le Chateau Gris exudes a subtle élégance, maman. Quite unlike the gaudy show of the nouveau riche.”

The barely concealed barb sailed right over the woman’s head and Celeste looked away in disgust. She could only pray that Gabrielle would not embarrass her. Knowing her mother, that hardly seemed possible. Her mother had dressed to excess in an apricot gown that showed more skin than taste.

Whatever would Hubert and the Comtesse think!

The elaborate clock on the mantelpiece sounded the hour and still no other guests had arrived.

 

[ariosto]

Chantal looked at the ebony time piece over the fireplace. It was nearly 8 o'clock. The guests she'd invited for appearence sake we're still not here and she wondered if she should introduce DeSade into the picture anyway, perhaps something had happened...

"Perhaps something has happened Madame Moreau...the road to the Chateau de Fleur Blanc is always bad after a rain and they are all coming in one carriage I think."
Chantal was trying hard not to laugh at the risque and gauche attire of the older woman. Celeste on the other hand was understated, elegantlty so. Hubert would definately approve.

"One carriage!"
Gabrielles's bosom expanded alarmingly.
"One carriage you say! Why I thought..."

The Comtesse held up an elegant hand.
"A large carriage madam."
She smiled,
"And it's not quantity but quality that counts, N'est pas?"

"Indeed so Comtesse."
Celeste nodded.
"Will any of the DeSade's be coming?"

"Indeed they will!"
Hubert had suddenly appeared in the doorway wearing a riding coat and damp with rain.

Celeste jumped up a look of alarm crossed her pretty face..

The nobleman bowed low over Chantal's hand and kissed it gracefully.
"My apologies Countess. I know I was not invited but my uncle the Marquis insisted that I come and extend his regrets. He's been taken ill and feels the journey would be too tiring on his constitution...He's quite frail you know?"

"Oh indeed..."
Chantal's eyes twinkled.
"I believe you know my young guest, Mademoiselle Moreau and her charming companion is her mother Gabrielle, Can you believe it!?"

"Non! mon dieu, she is but a child herself!"
DeSade bent low over both ladies proffered hands, taking a bit longer with Celeste's kiss.

"My dear Madame Moreau...may I call you Gabrielle?..."
The woman nodded eagerly.
"I see now where your daughters divine beauty originates."

Moreau mere, flushed in delight.

Chantal smiled. It was lovely to see Hubert doing what he did best.

"I imagine it's a full time job for you just keeping the suitors from your door. Celeste must be the most sought after girl in Paris.
Such beauty..."
DeSade sighed deeply, was that a gleam of cunning he saw in Gabrielle Moreau's dark eyes?

 

[Honey_B]

“Mon Dieu! It has been easier of late. Her tongue has driven away many of the most eligible suitors in France.”

Celeste was still reacting from seeing Hubert again. His presence affected her like a drug and she was struck speechless. She wanted to scratch her mother’s eyes out, but she did not want to appear more of the fool than she already had.

“She simply refuses to settle on someone and her eighteenth birthday has come and gone. Her father and I discuss daily sending Celeste to a convent, but she’s too much of an ingrate to ever take the vows.”

She wouldn’t stand for it! Celeste attempted to jump up but Chantal’s hand on her shoulder prevented it. She hadn’t see the Comtesse walk behind her, moving as silently as a cat.

”We continue to worry about our dear, Marie Claire as well. Every year that Celeste ages, her dowry must increase, taking away from our youngest daughter’s future.”

Gabrielle turned at the strangled sound uttered by her daughter and smiled at her offspring, baring her teeth like a shark.

”So you see, we are running out of options regarding our darling Celeste.”

At this, Gabrielle left her words hang in the still air as she took a sip of the very fine wine. She had not come to this meeting unprepared. Discreet inquiries had revealed who the Comtesse Chanal Marie de Béziers was and who her very close associate was as well. Gabrielle Moreau could not pass up an opportunity to see her daughter well off, especially if she stood to profit from it.

 

[ariosto]

Hubert laughed,
"Celeste in a convent! Oh no Madam, in truth it would be a terrible waste!..Look at her, so full of life...so flushed with la joi de vivre!"

It wasn't the joy of life that was causing the young woman to blush. It was anger and embarassment. Her mother betrayed with every word and gesture her origins in the house of a Breton seamstress.
"Mama! Hush!...hush please. I will know who it is I'll marry. I'll know it when the time comes!"

Her eyes suddenly semed to lock on DeSade's twinkling gray ones. He was looking at her rather curiously...
"Indeed I'm sure you will mademoiselle."

He turned to Chantal and a knowing look passed between them. La Belle Moreau would have an enormous dowry as a prize especially if the marriage would open the door to the aristocracy for the nouveau riche family and Hubert as usual was in desperate need of money but how desperate was he...Madam Moreau a mother in law!

Chantal sat down on the long divan and sipped at her wine, gesturing to the hallway.
"Perhaps you would be so kind as to show our young guest around the cottage. I feel suddenly a bit faint."

"Are you all right Countess?"
Madam Moreau flustered over to her.

"Oh quite all right, it passes quickly. The weather you know..."

DeSade took Celeste's arm and guided her to the doorway.
"We'll take a quick tour then my dear and be back before you can say one two three..."
He leaned close to Celeste's ear and whispered,
"One two three thousand that is. The Comtesses' 'cottage' has ninety seven rooms."

Gabrielle Moreau watched her daughter disappear into the dark labyrinth of the Chateau Gris with the notorious nobleman and her heart began to race.
"Perhaps I should join them, I'd love to see..."

Chantal's hand fell upon her arm, staying her retreat.
She patted the divan next to her.
"Madam Moreau, please a discreet moment."

The coarse woman flushed with pleasure...a confidence from the Comtesse de Bezieres!

Chantal smiled warmly.
"Your daughter is quite safe with Hubert. His reputation has suffered at the hands of his enemies. She'll return none the worse for it I asssure you.
She sipped her wine and set it on the table.
"Gabrielle my dear, I have a suggestion...no indeed a proposition, to make to you regarding Celeste. Are you interested?"

 

[Honey_B]

C’est ca, your grace. I would be most interested in anything you have to say.”

Chantal smiled at the Gabrielle’s incorrect form of address, but tastefully declined to say anything.

“Gabrielle, your daughter has piqued the interest of my closet confident, a man for which I would do most anything. Have you considered another option for dear Celeste. One that many a fine family has turned to when marriage has become impossible or too expensive. Have you thought of having her trained as a courtesan?”

Madame Moreau puffed up with indignation, her feathers ruffling up.

“Your grace, it would be unthinkable for someone in my family… Why it would be quite impossible!”

Gabrielle paused and looked at Chantal slyly out of the corner of her eye.

“But in my indignation, I interrupt. Do go on, your grace.”

Chantal had to bite her lip to keep from laughing outright. She suspected this was what the crafty, old bird had intended from the beginning. The Comtesse was quite willing to play along, to preserve the charade.

”Celeste has spirit, beauty, intelligence, all qualities that would bring her great success as a courtesan. Think of it, Gabrielle, you will have secured Celeste’s future and would be richly rewarded for your efforts.

Gabrielle discarded the masque of the doting mother.

”How richly rewarded exactly?”

Chantal’s manner turned businesslike as well.

“For the price of three thousand francs, I would earn the privilege of training your daughter for a nobleman of impeccable rank. Her future would then be provided for.”

Gabrielle did not know what to say. It was an exorbitant amount of money even for the rich merchant’s wife.

“Done, your grace.”

Her conscious pricked her but once but then she thought of the peace this arrangement would bring her and after all, Celeste’s future would be secure.

************

Celeste had never felt so insecure in all her life. Anything! At this point Celeste would do or say most anything to get back into DeSade’s good graces. Despite the performance in the salon, Celeste was beginning to doubt whether Hubert even liked her anymore. She had been such a fool, a childish little twit.

“Zut Alors, Monsiur! You walk too fast.”

DeSade stopped, turned on his heal, and in a thrice, had her pinned to the wall, pressing the length of his body into hers. His gray eyes gleamed, darkened by some unknown force. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she desperately tried to catch her breath.

”And you ran away from me, or have you forgotten, Celeste?”

Celeste stammered out apologies and excuses, forgetting the clever words she had rehearsed again and again. It was too late. DeSade released her and continued down the corridor. Celeste gathered up her skirts and hurried after him. He paused long enough to open a door near the end of the hall, holding it while he waited for Celeste to catch up.

 

[ariosto]

It was a man's room but done with subdued taste, quite at odds with the garish decor her father favored in his apartment.

Brass and silver glittered from fittings crafted to the rarest of polished woods. In the mellow lamp light the colors were muted but a deep red rather like dark blood seemed to predominate.
DeSade bowed low...
Enter my dear...

She paused wondering if she was about to commit to something she could not withdraw from, then a decision made she walked by him and into the room. The door closed behind her with a soft click.

She spun around. DeSade was gone!
Panic welled up within and she tried the latch and hammered at the door with her small fists. As though to add a note of terror to her predicament thunder hammered the chateau at that moment and sheets of rain began pelting the windows.

"DeSade!...DeSade!..Let me out!"

His laughter caused her to turn and there he stood in a narrow passageway that had been hidden behind a thick Flemish tapestry.
"Please set your mind to rest dear girl, I only wished to show you the clever artiface of the craftsmen of the Chateau Gris.
This old place is full of hidden corridors, secret doors..."
His voice dropped low,
"...torture chambers."

Celetse flared.
"You mock me sir!" Torture chambers indeed!"

DeSade held up the ornate hanging, and gestured through the portal.
"Would you care to look?

Her heart was beating like a sparrows. A voice within was saying NO! but...
"I'll look into your dungeon...Hubert. I'll take your dare."

The use of his given name gave her courage and she brushed by him once again and immediately drew in her breath.
It was the most splendid room she'd ever seen!
A high bed canopied in diaphanous saffron dominated the center.
The surrounding furniture was delicate, graceful with no theme dominant, yet all in harmony. This was a woman's room of that she had no doubt. It smelled of lilacs.
Paintings hung on the walls, many of them quite small. Over the wide white marble mantle she caught the gleam of metal in the dim light of the two candles burning at the bedside.
She walked towards it, her eyes becoming used to the light and suddenly stopped.

Knives.
KNIVES!...dozens of them set in patterns had been bracketed to the wall. She turned, DeSade was lighting more candles. Her eyes darted around the room.
The small paintings were not landscapes and sweet still lifes.
They were...

Her face went crimson.
Mon Dieu! monsieur, what kind of room is this!

Hubert looked up and smiled.
"Why yours Celeste, you cannot possibly return to Paris in this storm."