Come on along with the Black Rider... we'll have a gay old time. **Closed**

[laceandcogs]

Cecilia Lefevbre propped her delicate chin in her hands and gazed out the leaded window separating her reading room from her garden. The dark, tangled kudzu did little to brighten a far too grey and dismal view, enhanced by the sun's refusal to come out from behind the gathered clouds. Oh, how Cecilia longed to feel the sun on the back of her neck, bleeding soul-rejuvenating warmth into her tensed, grief-ravaged muscles. It seemed, to Cecilia's sweet, poetic little soul, that the sun had not shone for so much as a moment since Mamere and Papa passed away.

Of course, even if death could really perform some arcane, vile magic that forced the sun away, surely that magic would not have followed Cecilia halfway across the continent to this new house. Her family home had held too many aching memories, and the quick sale had given her funds enough to relocate to a much smaller home. If she continued her current habits, which consisted mostly of reading, sighing, and eating nothing but biscuits and unsweetened tea, she figured she could live halfway to eternity without straining her accounts.

With a terribly sad smile and a deep breath, Cecilia channeled the voice of her mother, who would have come back from the grave to beat Cecilia within an inch of her life for such silly, self-indulgent behavior. Mamere's warm, kind tones urged her to get her ridiculous little behind out of this chair, into something a little less black, and out into the day- sunshine or no. Even if all I have left of Mamere is this imaginary voice, Cecilia mused, it will be a kindness from God.

And so, with the lithe grace of youth, Cecilia roused herself from her reading chair, enjoyed a brief, too-hot bath, and dressed in a dove-grey riding dress. She had not bothered to buy a horse, she thought as she fastened the eighty-five tiny pearl buttons that ran down the front of the exquisitely tailored silk, but she had not bothered to buy anything else, either- including any new sensible dresses.

As she laced her heeled patent boots and pinned her short-veiled sunhat to her lustrous raven-blue hair, Cecilia gazed sternly into her reflection and spoke, in measured, cultured tones: "Cecilia, you are a young woman now, and it does not suit a young woman to be so pale and thin. You must think of serious things, and eat serious food, and speak very seriously."

Though her imitation of Papa's voice was eerily precise- mimicry being the oldest and most well-used of Cecilia's mischevious talents- she could not bring herself to feel genuine reproach. A laugh, long and sweet and, in any other circumstance, capable of creating sunshine all on its own, trilled through the still, small home, and followed its enchanting owner out the door and into her gardens.

 

[cgraven]

Simon De Guise paced the confines of his study he ran his fingers through his ginger hair. There was a pent up energy that seemed to be searching for release.

Maudire

His fist slammed down on to the oaken desk and the pain radiated up his arm. De Guise took a steadying breath and embraced the intense feeling, letting his frustration mingle it and then dissipate till once again he assumed the mask. He did not like failure, and he detested distraction. Yet lately both seemed to be haunting him. The summoning had failed yet again. It was the third failure in as many months. As for distraction De Guise turned his eyes to the house next to his, to her house. She was just the sort of distraction that had caused him to leave his family’s home in the French Quarter and take up residence in Algiers across the New Orleans. He had selected his residence because there were no close neighbors, a place of solitude where he could pursue his peculiar studies free form the gay laugher of women, free from the sight of a well turned ankle, the sensual curves and the temptation of their bodies. It was not the harlots and hussies of Bourbon street but the sweet young charges of the Ursiline convent in the first blush of womanhood and yet so sweet and innocent.

Maudire

His studies where much to important to be cast aside because of mere adversity. As for the distraction of his new neighbor Mademoiselle Cecilia Lefevbre. That would be a matter he would have to take in hand and deal with himself. A wicked smile bowed the blood mage’s lips as he pondered how to deal with her perhaps she could also be the key to unlock his other problem as well.

With his decision made Professor Simon De Guise straightened his vest and slipped on his suit jacket. He took a moment to make sure he presented the picture of a modest and scholarly gentleman, white linen suite, straw bowler, and of course a book or two under his arm for the crowning touch. De Guise waited until he saw Mademoiselle Lefevbre emerge from her home in a most fetching dove-gray riding dress. He rushed out opening his gate and ran right into the lithe young beauty knocking sending his book flying and knocking him to the ground.

“Mon Dieu…..pardon Mademoiselle I am such a fool.”

 

[laceandcogs]

The noise of the gate, unfortunately, did not rouse Cecilia from sweet reverie. Simon's collision sent her to the ground as well, with a soft surprised cry: "Oh!" Only the durability of youth allowed her to bounce right back up, hat slightly cocked now, the back of her dress embraced by a few bits of moss and cut grass. Heedless of her state, her eyes shot demurely to the book- it would be indelicate of her to regard the man before he had the opportunity to right himself.

In beguilingly flushed hurry, Cecilia scooped his book from the grass and buffed its cover clean with the skirt of her dress. Completely unconcerned with the fine silk, she managed to more than slightly besmirch the fabric with damp green traces, and much more than slightly lift the hem of her skirt halfway up her beautifully formed calf. From his position, Simon could have languidly enjoyed this vision...if he so chose.

"The fault is entirely mine, Sir! I was far too close to your gate. Please do forgive me, and I hope your book is all right..." Her apology bore none of the clipped edges of empty social propriety, nor did her slightly broad vowels suggest a local upbringing. Had Simon any doubts as to her sincerity, the wide, bright fever of her thick-lashed eyes would require the Devil's own dissembling to fake. With slightly tremulous hands, Cecilia held his book out, offering it with a fetching little curtsey.

 

[cgraven]

Simon De Guise could not help but notice Mademoiselle Lefevbre maidenly blush or the way she demurely averted her soft grey eyes with the most enchanting hint of violet, form his . Her cheeks where the most delightful shade of pink, as she in a beguilingly flushed hurry, scooped his book from the grass and buffed its cover clean with the skirt of her dress. That simple act had the most profound result of hiking the hem of her skirt halfway up her beautifully formed calf. De Guise could feel his passions building, the need to have this raven haired beauty, to savor her sweet charms, weather she was willing or not. Her voice was so sincere as she cooed

” The fault is entirely mine, Sir! I was far too close to your gate. Please do forgive me, and I hope your book is all right..."

It was quite obvious by her speech that this stunning young beauty was not a native of New Orleans or for that fact Louisianan or any place in the south. Her slightly broad vowels suggest that she was from the North and that fact alone would isolate her from polite society as the scares and animosity of the war between the states and the Reconstruction still bore bitter memories .

“ No Madame the fault is all mine.”

De Guise voice was rich dark and deep its tenor lost somewhere between a base and a baritone and bore the hint of a French accent. As he rose his dark hazel eyes met Cecilia’s and held her soft grey doe eyes captive in his gaze.

“ Pardon Madame how rude of me I am Professor Simon De Guise……..”

As he introduced himself he held out his hand his finger tips just grazed her hand as he continued.

“………my book Madame?”

The title of Professor’s de Guise’s book was now clearly visible Sensuality and Human Behavior. the title emblazoned in gold on the crimson Moroccan leather cover, in much smaller letters S. De Guise indicating the author.

 

[laceandcogs]

Now that Simon stood before her, Cecilia granted herself the liberty of stealing an assessing gaze... one that she hoped was subtle. She found herself most taken by the silver at his temples, and the way it feathered so fetchingly into his ginger hair- what an intriguing color! Cecilia had never met a redhead before, being rather sheltered, and found that she rather envied the way even the meager sunlight available this afternoon sketched a halo in the edges of Simon's locks. Before this moment, she would not have thought it possible that a woman envy a man's appearance. Yet, before this moment, she had never been so very...interested in a man's appearance as she was now.

These girlish considerations nearly cost her the mental faculties necessary to process what Simon said- were it not for the uncommon and wonderful depth of his tones, she might have had a harder time reconstructing the statement internally. This need to recollect created the hesitation that prompted Simon to attempt to pull his book from her hands- at least, that is how her ultimately forgiving mind framed the situation.

Thoroughly embarassed by what she perceived as cloddish slowness in herself, and also suffering a new and exacerbating side effect of being prisoner to Simon's gaze, Cecilia flushed even darker- a deep pink glow crept up her cheeks, down her throat, and into the crests of her seashell-delicate ears. She looked every bit the child caught in the cookie tin, and felt it, too. Had she not been forcing herself to focus, Cecilia might have wondered at Simon's ability to rouse that feeling in her.

Cecilia extended her hand to shake his- a rather modern and adventurous thing, lending more evidence to the fact that she was not a proper Southern girl. "Cecilia Lefevbre. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Professor." In order to have a reason to escape his gaze, she read the cover of the book... aloud. What an unfortunate mistake!

"Sensuality and Human Behavior..." in her rush, Cecilia was nearly done reading out the title before its meaning struck her. A credit to her upbringing, foreign as it may be, her voice faltered only slightly. "By S. De Guise." A pause, three full beats long, as Cecilia cursed herself for being so impulsive. "Well, a ... a professor and a published author. It seems I have a very accomplished neighbor!"

With a breast full of hope and an impish smile that very, very temptingly imprisoned the fullness of her bottom lip beneath straight, even white teeth, Cecilia cast her gaze once more to Simon's, and prayed that he was merciful.

 

[cgraven]

"Cecilia Lefevbre. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Professor."


The boldness with which mademoiselle Lefevbre took De Guise hand confirmed his earlier suppositions that this raven haired beauty was not of the South. Yet as she unabashedly spoke the scandalous title of his book belied the conservative and puritanical up bring of young ladies of the Northern states. The way she stammered as she continued and the adorable flush of pink that now turned crimson as she babbled.

"Well, a ... a professor and a published author. It seems I have a very accomplished neighbor!"

This lithe young beauty was become more of a distraction with every passing moment De Guise could not help but notice the impish smile that very, very temptingly imprisoned the fullness of her bottom lip beneath straight, even white teeth, or the way her firm young breast strained against the form fitting tightness of her riding ensemble.

“Mademoiselle Lefevbre I trust you have not hired a horse from the stables at the end of Rue Corbeau for I fear the man is a scoundrel and his beast a danger. If you desire a morning canter it would be my pleasure if you would join me. I shall have my groom saddle a mare for you.”

Simon De Guise opened the gate to his home and Stepped aside to let the young beauty enter. He led her up the garden path to his front door and opened it for her. A black man servant met De Guise and his eyes where wide with surprise to see the Master of the house return so quickly.

“Peter tell Paul to saddle my horse and a mare for Madame Lefevbre.”

Simon D e Guise showed Cecilia into his library a gentlemen’s library filled from floor to ceiling with row upon row of books.

“Do amuse yourself while I change Madame I shall return shortly.”

De Guise knew well the type of book the young beauty would find upon his library’s shelves tomes on sexuality with impressive titles and very scandalous illustrations of men and women engaged in sexual activities and in positions that would surely make her blush.

 

[laceandcogs]

Cecilia could hardly believe her luck. Surely, this man was sent from God to ensure that her time in this strange, shut-off little town was not spent completely alone. And such helpful advice! It seemed only intelligent to take his direction, even if that involved following him unaccompanied into his home.

Now more conscious of her clothing, Cecilia carefully brushed at the dress, finding that the smear on her skirt was probably a lost cause. Not entirely without benefit, though...he is rather distinguished, and if a little grass-stain earns a professor's favor... Surprised by the bold turn her thoughts were taking, Cecilia faced the bookshelves, closely investigating the titles on the spines.

She had hoped to hide from shame and depraved thoughts here among Simon's books, and found, once again, that color was racing through her cheeks. Never had she seen such words, so boldly struck out in gold against leather spines! He must be a psychiatrist, she decided, ascribing far too noble a cause to Simon's reading tastes.

So as not to seem completely childish, Cecilia lifted one of the books into her arms, balancing the bottom edge against the full swell of her breasts as she opened it to a random page. It is only kind to attempt to take an interest in the likes of a new friend, after all.

The image on the page before her drew a soft gasp from shock-parted lips. A fully nude woman, body twisted and tied by a device that would have seemed at home in the Spanish Inquisition, her arms stretched and pinned over her head, her legs lashed to far-spread beams. Her breasts bore the marks of a lash, dangling from the hand of the man who stood between those legs- his naked body the epitome of male sexuality, corded muscle and firm planes... with a growing sense of faintness, Cecilia noted that his cock was fully rampant, and half-sunk into the tender girlhood of the woman stretched before him, and... from Cecilia's theoretically educated but untried guess...closer to the size of a horse than a man.

But for all this, the part of the picture that left Cecilia's hands shaking and mind racing... the woman was in raptures, her face a mask of hedonistic pleasure. Unable to quite turn her eyes away, the young woman gazed deeply into the image, half-scandalized, and half-studiously cataloguing the image for later rebroadcast on the vivid screen of her imagination.

 

[cgraven]

De Guise was pleasantly surprised as his alluring young neighbor followed him into his house with the trusting innocent of a young child. Any southern belle of even, Cecilia tender years, would have never dreamt of entering a man’s home without being appropriately chaperoned. Her very manner suggested that this gorgeous young creature was a devotee of the Advante Grade humanist movement that was sweeping Europe and just making inroads in the more liberal of American society. With this thought in mind Simon De Guise took his time changing, he gave his innocent young guest time to succumb to her apparently natural curiosity, to become enthralled with the decadence of what she would discover between the covers of those scholarly tomes.

De Guise Softly entered the Library to find Mademoiselle Cecilia mesmerized by a scarlet tome that matched the color that kissed her cheeks. Her breathe was coming in short little gasps as she held the book in her dainty. Silently De Guise came up behind the young beauty and saw the illustration that had seemed to so move her so. A wry smile bowed his lips.

“Mademoiselle I see you have an interest in deviant human sexuality. I believe you will find the next illustration of interest as well.”

Simon De Guise did not wait for a reply from his young guest but reached around her to turn the page. His body was lightly pressed to hers. The image of a young beauty on her hands and knees was being taken from behind by a man that held a leash attached to a collar around her slender neck. The man’s hand was raised and it was obvious, That as he used the girl, he was spanking her as well.

“But how foolish of me Mademoiselle Lefevbre we where going for a morning ride not an intellectual debate. Shall we.”

Simon gently took the scandalous book from Cecilia’s hands His eyes once more held hers in his piercing gaze. His lips bowed into a friendly smile as he ushered the young beauty from the library out into the gardens and to the stables behind the main house. De Guise had chosen a pair of buff, form fitting, riding breeches cut in a French fashion and a snug riding jacket with just the hint of tails in a sage green. The ensemble revealed that despite his age Simon De Guise was a man possessed of a strong body with well defined muscles.

Paul the black stable boy had saddled the masters black stallion and had led a roan mare out. The mare was saddled with a lady’s side saddle. De Guise knew that no young lady, that was still a chaste young virgin, would dare to ride astride, less she do herself an injury that would preclude a good marriage.

“I trust the mount and saddle are to your satisfaction Mademoiselle.”

 

[laceandcogs]

Simon's sudden presence made Cecilia jump. She had expected that she would hear him returning, and would have time to jam the book back on the shelf, maybe even time to pretend to have had an entirely innocent interest in his globe or his fireplace or the upholstery of a chair... at least time to turn the page! Half-swooning with the shock and shame of being found mid-fantasy, Cecilia might as well have been a statue as he reached over her and turned the page. The only sign that his words had an effect came after he took the book from her hands and put it away...

When Simon looked next, Cecilia's delicate hand cupped the front of her slender throat protectively, as if considering the pressure a collar and leash might bring to bear against her rapidly hammering pulse.

Following with silent obedience, Cecilia let Simon lead her to the horses he had had prepared. She smiled with unsupressed, childlike delight at the sight of the roan mare. "Oh, Sir, she is beautiful!" Clapping her hands once softly, Cecilia moved closer to the horse, stroking a gentle touch against the beast's mane, patting her neck softly. "A magnificent, gorgeous beast... aren't you, dulcie?" This was crooned to the horse and the horse alone as Cecilia let the animal become used to her scent and sound.

After another moment, when she was certain the beast would stand her, Cecilia turned to face Simon. "May I trouble you for help, Sir? I have yet to figure out how a girl is to gracefully mount a horse all on her lonesome without the presence of a sturdy stepladder." Her smile was soft, winsome, still distracted by the pleasant surprise presented by the horse.

 

[cgraven]

The memory of Cecilia as she stood there in the library her dainty hand at her slender throat so protectively, the deep crimson blush that kissed her cheeks and the way she demurely averted her eyes left doubt in De guise mind that this winsome young beauty had been considering the pressure a collar and leash might bring to bear against her rapidly hammering pulse. His raven haired beauty was become a most persistent distraction.

"Oh, Sir, she is beautiful!…………A magnificent, gorgeous beast...

“Yes a most magnificent creature…”
De guise was not thinking of the little roan mare as he spoke but rather the girl that stroked her. Mademoiselle was an open book her schoolgirl joy, the innocent way she let her feelings show spoke of a rare innocence. One that tempted de Guise as no courtesan ever could. The power he could gain by stripping her of her girlish fantasies of plucking her virginity as if it were nothing……….

"May I trouble you for help, Sir? I have yet to figure out how a girl is to gracefully mount a horse all on her lonesome without the presence of a sturdy stepladder."
Her softly cooed request woke him from his dark ponderings and as he saw that soft, winsome smile Simon de Guise made up his mind and that decision would seal Mademoiselle Cecilia Lefevbre fate.
“Of course Mademoiselle Lefevbre. “
He gave the young beauty a leg up he cradled her trim little ankle in one hand and her lower leg in the other as he booted her on to her mount her firm little derrière was just a breath from his face. He swung easily on to the back of his black stallion. He gave the great beast a nudge with his spur .

“ Tell me Mademoiselle have you long been interested in deviant human sexuality?”

Before she really could answer him De guise was several lengths ahead of her requiring Cecilia to nudge her mare in to a fast trot. They rode for several hours as Simon de Guise question his young companion on why she had come to Algiers, and complemented her on her open mindedness to discuss not only human sexuality but its deviant variations. When they had returned from their ride De Guise helped Cecilia from the saddle his hands were about her little wasp waist, he lifted her from the saddle as if she were as light as a feather. Then with her supple young body sandwiched between her little mare and his body he let her slide down his. His lips were just a breath away from hers.

“ If it would not be to bold of me Mademoiselle would you like to continue our academic discussion over supper tonight say around nine o’clock .”

 

[laceandcogs]

Cecilia tried her best to keep up with Simon's conversation on sexuality, but the ideas he presented, the images... oh, they made her mind spin! Intellectually, she was keen to converse- as he had guessed, she was a humanist, and seemed to believe firmly that as long as two adults are making free choices without coercion or force, they should enjoy, well... whatever it was they enjoyed!

She could barely keep her eyes on Simon, however- her social freedom was leaps and bounds ahead of her meager boldness, and so each new question and answer made her flush, stammer, squeak, and find somewhere for her eyes to be that didn't involve him.

When their ride was over, and Simon lifted her from her horse, she felt the way he slid her body over his. Cecilia knew, as Simon kept her firmly pinned between the horse and his lust-tensed body, that coming to dinner tonight could be very, very dangerous for her virtue. A sweet little frown twisted her lips as she considered... but the longer she took to think about it, the longer she had to feel the pressure of Simon's muscular chest against her lush breasts, sensitive from both the conversation and the caress of her dress as they rode... the longer she had to admire and fear the strength in his hands as they encircled her tight little waist... the longer she had to be aware of his tense, thick thigh, and the way it had angled itself slightly between her slender legs, perilously close to her throbbing, slickened pussy...

"Yes, Sir, I...I would be pleased to join you for dinner, of course, but... but I must, absolutely must go now, I... I have... things to... I will see you at nine!"

Her youthful grace once more at her disposal, Cecilia managed to slide away from Simon and hurry off toward her own gate, tossing a sweet, apologetic smile and wave over her shoulder as she fled.

Once home, Cecilia employed all of the locks on her front door, and hurried upstairs. Panting, senseless with sensation, she undressed hurriedly, tossing her clothing to the floor like a careless child. She noticed that the bright flush of shame and lust had crept from her cheeks, to her throat, to her breasts, nearly to her stomach now- a pink outline against the so very pale flesh, not unlike the mark left by a particularly vicious slap.

Flinging herself onto her bed, Cecilia did not waste time with the covers. Why employ modesty when one is so alone, and so securely locked in? As she stripped her bloomers off to enjoy full nudity, Cecilia marveled that she had had even the good sense to close her bedroom door- not even the naughtiest book, filched from her most depraved schoolmate, had aroused her as thoroughly as Simon's conversation had.

Closing her eyes, Cecilia let her small hands drift up her flat, smooth stomach to cup and squeeze the fullness of her tits. Finding the small, pink peaks of her nipples already standing firmly at attention, she wasted no time in pinching them between thumb and forefinger, hard enough to make herself gasp. Biting firmly into her lower lip to keep quiet, Cecilia continued to viciously pinch and tweak her own nipples, feeling each now lightning bolt of pain add to the sweet flood of nectar issuing from her little virgin cunt.

When she could stand it no more, Cecilia's fingers moved quickly down her stomach, over the firm little crests of her hips, as her soft little thighs spread widely. Eyes closed tight, she called forth the image in Simon's book until she could nearly feel its presence. Imagining the cold, rough wood beneath her back and thighs, the tension of the leather straps that would so cruelly tie her, the ache in her body as the device pulled and spread her, Cecilia pictured herself in that rack-like device. One delicate hand spread the pink, glistening lips of her pussy ever so slightly... just enough for the forefinger of the other hand to slide in firmly against her clit.

Another moan threatened to tear past Cecilia's firmly closed lips, and she let a bit of it escape- a shatteringly arousing, coy little groan of pure pleasure. With her finger moving in fast, tight circles over this little button of pleasure she had discovered, Cecilia let her head rock back into the pillows and imagined a man there with her- standing between those wood-and-leather restrained legs, threatening to impale her with a massive, lusty organ. Here, her imagination began to fail...for all her schoolgirl imaginings and wicked books, Cecilia had no real idea what a man's cock would look like. But the man's face was taking shape, for better or worse...

As Cecilia let her young, tense body surrender to the sensations issuing from her slick little clit, she pictured Simon's face looking down into hers. She imagined his eyes, coolly appraising her trembling body. She imagined his lips, curved into a gentle, sardonic smirk. She imagined his hands, so sure when they lifted her from the horse, moving as her hands did now- the thought brought her orgasm so much closer.

With thorough abandon, Cecilia felt her body arch, the waves of a wracking, wrenching orgasm slamming into her virginal body, making her shake and jump and moan. A chorus of soft shrieks and cries poured forth as that sweet little forefinger remained hard at work, rubbing her clit until she thought surely her mind would break with joy.

Only then did she relax into her mattress, pull her coverlet around her naked form, and settle into a nap.. with Simon's name dying in the now-quiet of her room.

 

[cgraven]

Her heart pounded against his chest and her cheeks were a most delightful shade of pink. This bold little beauty made no attempt to escape for several moments. It was if she were a sparrow caught in the mesmerizing gaze of the serpent.

"Yes, Sir, I...I would be pleased to join you for dinner, of course, but... but I must, absolutely must go now, I... I have... things to... I will see you at nine!"

Cecilia stammered and cooed in a breathless husky whisper as she slipped from the decidedly intimate and compromising position she found herself in. She had managed to slide away from Simon and hurry off toward her own gate. There was a coquettish innocence as she tossed a sweet, apologetic smile and wave over her shoulder as she fled. De Guise lips bowed in a wry smile as he called for his servants.
“Peter, Paul we shall be having a guest for dinner this evening Mademoiselle Lefevbre. Aperitifs at Nine dinner and wine at Ten. I think three course fruit, soup, and oysters. As for desert, well I am sure Mademoiselle Lefevbre shall take care of that.”

A knowing look past between Master and servants. Peter and Paul went about their duties while Simon de Guise retired to his second floor study. The room was stifling Peter had failed to open the windows now that the sun was on the other side of the house. As he threw the window open he found that it looked over Cecilia boudoir. There the shy little Miss was lying stark naked on her bed. Cecilia's fingers moved quickly down her stomach, over the firm little crests of her hips, as her soft little thighs spread widely. One delicate hand spread the pink, glistening lips of her pussy ever so slightly... just enough for the forefinger of the other hand to slide in firmly against her clit.
De Guise lust boiled within as he watched the stunning young raven haired beauty pleasure herself. He was nearly breathless and half made with lust when she pulled the covers over her lithe young body.

“ Tonight Mademoiselle, tonight.”

His voice a low dangerous rasping whisper.

 

[laceandcogs]

If Cecilia had half an idea that Simon had seen her pleasure her sweet little body, she would not have gone to dinner at all. In fact, she likely would have moved out of the state. But since ignorance is bliss, Cecilia woke around seven with a bright, energetic smile.

Stretching against the sheets for a moment, Cecilia enjoyed the languid, warm relaxation that always followed such an intense orgasm. Not that there had been many so intense... not that there had been any so intense! It brought a flush to her cheeks just thinking about it, and she hoped that Simon did not list "mind reading" among his skills.

Cecilia took great pains with her preparations. A long bath, carefully scrubbing every inch of her smooth young skin, and washing her hair. She rubbed lightly-scented oil into her clean, moist flesh, taking care to let it soak in completely before dressing. While she waited, shimmering, she did up her hair in a slightly messy, very current style- well, not as current as it would be when she bobbed her hair for her twentieth birthday. Mamere had insisted that she wait until then, telling her if she was still so fascinated by such a thoroughly stupid idea at that deadline, she would bring Cecilia the scissors herself. Though Mamere could no longer tease Cecilia about the rule, she stuck to it- the last deference of an obedient daughter.

She had never cared much for makeup, but as it was a very special occasion, Cecilia indulged in just a little bit of lip rouge. She liked the way it made her look more serious, more adult, indefinably more...experienced. The deeper tone played beautifully against her eyes, and she smiled with genuine pleasure at what she saw in her looking-glass.

Dressing, Cecilia chose a pair of pale pink satin bloomers, tied around her girlishly slender waist with a black silk ribbon. Stockings were out of the question- she'd never been able to bear the way they tickled and teased against her flesh, and as long as she wore long skirts, who would possibly know she had scandalously skipped them? The briefest flash of a thought- Simon might know- danced along the edges of her perception, and she shivered as she tied herself into a light corset. Being young and rather slender, she never had much need for the heavier ones, but nor could she follow the suggestion of her wilder peers and wear only a camisole- her breasts were just a bit too large, and she could never stop suspecting that a casual observer would notice the extra jiggle to her movements.

Finally, her gown for the evening- a frivolity of ivory chiffon, bloused ethereally over an underdress of thin, salmon-colored silk. The black ribbons that laced through its collar and wrists made the fabric billow and shift over her body, and the triple-wound lacing around the waist added to the deliberate illusion that she wore nothing but sheer froth. The dress had made her father sputter and rant about immodesty, but in her habitual solidarity her mother had defended the choice, reminding Papa about Cecilia's age, current styles, and the fact that she had never so much as winked at inappropriate behavior. Being such a very good girl should have rewards, Mamere had insisted, and then she had whispered something about a dress of her own girlhood that thoroughly dissolved Papa's reluctance and made the topic permanently off-limits. Remembering her parents' affection for one another gave Cecilia pause, and she let herself drift in happy memories for a moment.

Recollecting herself, she cast one more look into the mirror, making sure everything was in place. She was... she was beautiful, she admitted, chafing at the bold pride of such a thought, but believing it nonetheless. Her hair, still slightly damp, caught deep blue light in its lustrous waves, and pinned away from her face, it let her delicate, well-bred features shine. A fine, unlined forehead, with thin and well-arched brows, tapering into a pert little bobbed nose. Her lips, rouged just enough to emphasize, were lush and inviting without losing the definition of her exquisite Cupid's bow. High cheekbones, the legacy of her father, were softened by eyes inherited from her mother- wide, luminous, the color of the clouds that bore a gentle, warm summer's rain.

An angel's face, above the body of a harlot, in the dress of a young woman caught precipitously and wickedly just between the two. If ever a girl was ready for a dinner with a handsome, witty neighbor...

 

[cgraven]

The memory of that supple lithe young body, the way Cecilia arched to her own sinful touch both pleased and infuriated Simon de Guise. Several times he had gone to study the incantations, the list of ingredients, each time he found his mind wandering back to the image of the raven haired beauty and her little display.

“ Chienne!”

The little bitch would pay for having distracted him from his studies from the summoning that he had been working on for months. His rage was barely controlled when he dressed for dinner. For such an auspicious occasion Simon De Guise chose a long Turkish robe belted at the waist. The color was a deep maroon and the embroidery of gold threads where the sings of the Zodiac and entwined within the patterns were worked the mystic runes of the blood mage, runes of power, runes of protection. Where Mademoiselle Cecilia might be quite ready to accept and intellectual discussion of human sexuality, or even the more deviant aspect of sexuality. He doubted her thoroughly modern mind was ready to accept the existence of magic, real magic. To her and those of her generation and station in life magic was a slight of hand amusement at best or the trickery of charlatans to doup the gullible. Yet for the people of New Orleans and the bayous, voodoo, black and white magic were quite frighteningly real and a blood mage was the blackest of the black mages for they drew their power from the blood, pain and suffering of others. The more innocent the victim, the more power the mage gained from their suffering.

“Monsieur de Guise Mademoiselle Lefevbre has arrived”

“Very well Peter show her to the library.”

When De Guise saw her, she was stunning, the soft ivory gown, her angelic face and that seductively sensual body he could feel his man hood rising with lust for this gorgeous creature. Despite his arousal his face remained passive calm unreadable.

“ An aperitif Mademoiselle perhaps a daiquiri.”

Simon De guise was the perfect host. Dinner was served on the veranda as he evening was hot and sultry. There was a languid, moist, humid, primal feel to the evening as if nature its self was holding its breath. The only relief was the evening breeze off the river. The first course was fresh fruit served with Champagne, the soup a gazpachos, and the fish was a baked red snapper. The conversation was as lively as the meal was rich and decadent. It was a continuation of their earlier discussion on sexuality in its many forms. Peter had cleared away the last course. Now was the time for desert. Little did the ravishing young beauty know that she was the tasty little morsel that would be served up for De Guise’s pleasure.

“Mademoiselle Lefevbre, Cecilia the theoretical is one thing and the province of academia. I have always believed in a more hands on approach to study. So if you would be so kind my dear as to remove your gown. It would be a shame to ruin it for I have every intentions of raping you this evening. Taking by force and against your will.”

His voice was darkly calm as if his intentions to rape her was the most natural of things. It left little doubt he meant exactly what he said. De Guise knew that Peter and Paul would have blocked Cecilia’s avenues of escape. He loved the look of shock on that angelic face, the disbelief that shown in those soft grey eyes as if he must be utterly mad.

“Peter, Paul be so kind as to bind Mademoiselle spread eagled to the table.”

Simon de Guise sat there quit relaxed as his two black servant did there master’s bidding. He drank in the stunning raven hair beauty’s fear and panic. De Guise loved the way the two men took the most intimate liberties with her supple young body, the way she struggled against the two massive and powerful men as she fought to protect her honor and virtue. Ebony hands lashing her to the table stretching her hands above her head, drawing her lily white thighs apart as her trim little ankles where bound. They had drawn Cecilia’s supple young body tight as a bowstring. De Guise smiled down on her as she struggled vainly against the bounds that held her.

“Cecilia I shall take you now by force,….”

The back of his hand caressed her flawless cheek.

“ …rape you……”

His dark eyes held her soft grey eyes captive.

“…And when I am through with you, you shall beg me to fuck you, and use you as I please.”

Slowly he let down her long dark silken tresses to from a dark halo around that sweet angelic face. He let his hands trail down over her bound body, over the swell of her breasts. His thumb brushed across the thin material that covered her nipple, tested how responsive her body was to touch. Smiled wickedly as he felt that succulent little rose bud swell and become taunt. His hands trailed down over the flat plane of the girl’s quivering abdomen, down her wide spread legs to slip beneath the helm of her gown. His eyes held hers in their unblinking gaze as his finger tips grazed the bare flesh of her legs. They traced Idle little patterns on her inner thighs and final he cupped her sweet little pussy. His thumb grazing the soft puffy folds of her labia through her silk bloomers.


“Shall we get you out of your gown my sweet.”

With those simple words the gates of hell opened to welcome the innocent little virgin to the horrors that her young life would soon become.

 

[laceandcogs]

Cecilia had been too stunned to contest Simon's bold statement- completely unused to alcohol, she had felt a bit giddy and languid since the first sip of that unusually powerful daquiri. The calmness with which he announced his intent to rape her made her believe that he was simply testing the sincerity of her liberal beliefs- it wasn't until she was being manhandled and bound by Peter and Paul that the terribly reality struck her.

To her credit, Cecilia fought as hard as she was able, the flexing and writhing of her delicate form quite laudable- though, certainly, no match for two experienced and muscular men. As Simon's eyes raked over her now-bound body, Cecilia's fight-quickened breath disguised a gasp of shame...despite the obvious disparity in circumstances, this scene was almost exactly what she had imagined as she made herself cum just hours ago.

However outwardly similar the images may have been, Cecilia took no joy now. She tried to flinch from Simon's hands, her eyes wide and shimmering with bravely unshed tears, her lips parted in a soft "oh" of protest. "Simon, please, you... you can't, please, not like this... just untie me, Simon, and... and we can talk about this..." Cecilia pled more out of form than hope- the distance and disdain in Simon's gaze told her that his mind was resolved, and that more begging on his part would likely just arouse him more.

Still, she was unprepared for his langourous, controlled touches, and the grip with which he cupped her vulnerable pussy, the heat of his hand searing through her light silk bloomers, made her attempt one last cry: "Simon, please!"

 

[cgraven]

"oh"

Cecilia’s little gasp of protest amused De Guise His dark evil smile only broadened as she implored him

"Simon, please, you... you can't, please, not like this... just untie me, Simon, and... and we can talk about this..."
He loved the look of fright in those soft grey eyes at his most intimate and most unwanted touch.

"Simon, please!"

“Hush my sweet we will soon have you out of that gown.”

There was a cruelty in the soft kiss that brushed Cecilia’s moist ripe lips. As De guise straightened the bound little beauty saw the bright glint of the candle light on the keen edge of the knife he held. That keen razor sharp edge slipped under the helm of her gown. The soft whisper of material renting caressed her ears. The warm moist evening breeze caressed the bare skin of Cecilia’s legs. Cold steel against to the quivering hot flesh of her belly . The material of the gown and corset part under the keen razor’s edge. De guise slipped the tattered remains of her gown and camisole from her body. The only vestige of modesty left to the bound young beauty where her silken bloomers. Simon de Guise leisurely pulled loose the black silk ribbon at her waist. Then with a wicked smile he violently ripped those silken bloomers from her. Miss Cecilia Lefevbre lay there in all her naked glory and at the mercy of the mad man she knew as Simon De Guise.

“Peter bring me a basin soap and hot water.”

Moments later the man returned with what his master had called for. De Guise lathered his hands then he lathered the dark soft fleece down that covered the young beauty’s
Mons. Again the glint of light on the razor.

“ Be still my dear lest you are cut.”

Simon laid the razor to Cecilia’s soft warm flesh. The seductive rasp of the razor against her skin whispered to the trapped beauty. Noting but smooth bare silken skin was left in the wake of the razor. When he was done Cecilia was bare as the day she was born. Not a single hair was left to hide her naked perfection from him.

 

[laceandcogs]

Cecilia turned her face away as Simon tore the last shreds of her dress away. The razor had terrified her initially, so cold against her warm, trembling skin, but she realized intellectually that Simon wouldn't cut her- she was so much more amusing to him in a whole, unblemished state.

As Simon called his servant back in, Cecilia winced, feeling the man's eyes upon her. She did not blame him, not entirely, for his part in this wicked plot- he had very few choices, really, but to please the man who employed him. However, she wondered if he would have been so keen to bind her, and have done so so tightly, if he and his compatriot had not enjoyed the act at least a little.

Simon's rasping blade finally stilled, and she knew by the chill of her wet skin that he had left her completely bare. This was shameful, perhaps just as shameful as what was going to happen- surely it was the mark of a whore to be so... so unnaturally shorn!

Determined not to acknowledge Simon, Cecilia let her tears slip into the curtain of her hair, willing herself to be totally silent. It was clear from his grin that Simon delighted in her earlier cries and moans, and she refused to give him any further pleasure. If he thinks I will beg for more, he is sorely mistaken, and less intelligent than I had guessed! No matter how steely her determination, though, a completely naked virgin, stared upon so intently by a predator like Simon, is given to the most delicious sort of trembling- it stirred her warm, bare flesh so beautifully in the limited space she was given, making her flat stomach twitch and her soft, lean thighs shake...

 

[cgraven]

The rising moon caught the single crystalline tear as it trickled down Cecilia’s cheek De Guise caught it on the tip of his finger and pressed it to the girl’s sweet ripe lips.
“It is but the first offering my sweet little whore.”

He swept her silken hair back bearing the tears she shed for all to see.

“For that is what I shall make of you Cecilia .”

His lips brushed hers in a slow sensual kiss..
“ Paul is the oil ready it is time to anoint Mademoiselle.”
Simon held out his hands and the servant handed him a ewer of hot oil. The subtitle fragrances of jasmine and sandalwood filled the bound beauty’s nostril . De Guise began a chant that was soon taken up by his ebony servants. He passed the ewer three times over Cecilia’s prostrated naked form. Then he bathed her breasts in the hot oil. Immediately massive dark ebony hands began to message the oil into her pale alabaster flesh he pinched rolled and tugged at the girls nipples. The trailed of hot oils trailed down over the quivering flat plain of her belly to pool in her naval. Another pain of dark ebony hands messaged it into her soft silken skin. The hot oil crept lower and now bathed Cecilia’s shaven little pussy and her pale pink virginal folds. Now De Guise’s hands joined the others as it worked the scented oil into the softest and most intimate places of the bound little virgin.

Slowly unnatural warmth began to spread through Cecilia’s breast and nipples it was similar to when she touched herself and yet it was deeper warmer and decidedly more arousing. The slow warmth became a fire that spread down across her belly to flare in her shaven pussy. And still the men’s hand explored and teased her supple naked flesh. Enkindling waves of sinful pleasure.

 

[laceandcogs]

The three sets of hands on her were a shock to Cecilia's system. She had never dreamt that Simon would allow his servants to touch her! Of course, she had hardly imagined that he would tie her to his table and rape her, either, so her underestimation of the blood mage was not new.

With a animal cry of anguish, Cecilia tilted her head back and focused on avoiding Simon's gaze. What was happening to her? Something about that oil made her blood run hot, her pulse hammer in the delicate curve of her throat... and the three men only exploited this unnatural desire, teasing her hard, ripe litle nipples, stroking so maddeningly at the sweet, dewy folds of her virgin cunt... it was so hard to think straight, so hard to think at all! Her cries were softer now, echoing her confusion and protest, the writhing of her body growing fainter and fainter as the arousal began to sap her will.

"Stop... please, please, Peter, Paul, you can't do this, I ... I won't... oh, Simon, why are you chanting? It's driving me mad..." Sanity began to ebb away from poor, innocent Cecilia, replaced steadily by terror, arousal, and a decided sense of the unreal...

 

[cgraven]

With each little whimper, each moan of unwanted ecstasy that escaped those sweet ripe lips pleased Simon de Guise. As the little virgin struggled so hard not to give in to her treacherous young body.
"Stop... please, please, Peter, Paul, you can't do this.

With a nod from their Master the two ebony giants heads dipped, the tips of their tongues circled Cecilia’s dusky pink areolastill her little rosebud nilles ached with a sinful desire. There lips closed around those taunt throbbing buds.

I ... I won't... oh, Simon, why are you chanting? It's driving me mad..."

De Gusie’s finger slipped with in the soft folds of the girl’s virgin pussy. He rolled her throbbing little clit under the pad of that finger coaxing that little pearl of passion from its hooded hiding place.

“ I am going to fuck you tight little cunt my sweet whore….” His eyes held hers in their unblinking gaze.

“Then I shall give you to Peter and Paul for their amusement girl.”

.

 

[laceandcogs]

The sudden presence of warm, gentle suction on her nipples jolted Cecilia back to the moment. Her cry was weak, half-choked by the pleasure of being suckled by the two servants, and Simon's gentle, insistent finger on her clit made the ache almost unbearable.

Cecilia wanted to believe that the pleasure that began to thrum steadily and insistently beneath the reeling madness of her fear was due only to the oil. It must have been drugged somehow, or perhaps her drink was- all that she was certain of was that the lust, the need that began to issue forth in an aching pulse, connecting her clit and her hungrily devoured nipples, had nothing to do with her. She didn't want this. She didn't, didn't, didn't. She couldn't. No girl would want to lose her precious maidenhead bound to a table in the swiftly chilling night air, helpless to the tortures of three madmen.

The lady protested too much, of course. There was a wicked part of Cecilia's mind that acknowledged the pleasure she was feeling even as her morality, her intellect, sought to crush that sensation. This little voice became louder in her mind, moaning and purring such sinful, horrible thoughts, phrases, ideas- she must shut it out!

 

[cgraven]

Simon de guise saw the proud little beauty weaken her struggles grew weaker and her sinful little gasps and moans grew louder.
With a wicked smile he caught Peter and Paul’s eyes and with a nod. They knew what their master wanted. With a simple little tug the cords that held Cecilia’s hands slipped free. Then she found her ankles where also free. Peter and Paul both let her nipples slip from there mouths with and obscene little pop. De Guise stood and looked down on the naked and flushed little beauty as she lay there empty and alone withering in her unholy need. Then his voice came to her. Dark rich and demanding.

“Get up whore and bend over the table so I may rape you.”
Cecilia was free, or was she . He had left her with a burning need and the three men still surrounded her. There was no place to run and De Guise had awakened the sinful desires of her supple treacherous young body. Was she in fact the whore that he called her. How much more humiliation did this monster plan to heap upon her. But God what a burning need they had enkindled in her.

 

[laceandcogs]

Freed for the moment from the ropes, Cecilia was given a choice. She could surrender as Simon demanded, and prove him right, offering her bent body like a harlot. Or she could refuse, and certainly be forced into the very same act. The only question was whether he would show mercy for her obedience.

Had Cecilia been alone in her mind, she might well have done it. She might have ignored the indignant howls of her moral upbringing, or the shameful whispers of that dark voice that egged her on, and made a decision to seal her fate with action. But there was another force at work, beneath the protestations of her innocence, beneath even the lusty fantasies of being bound and fucked just so... Cecilia's hope.

The same humanism Simon had been so pleased to see in Cecilia's sexual liberty came back to taunt him now, refilling her soul with fresh, pure belief. While she knew that it might be easier to give in, perhaps even more pleasurable, Cecilia's certainty that the ethereal, intangible purity of the human race would triumph over all unnatural evils sustained her will to resist. Unmoving, unblinking, she levelly returned Simon's gaze, and offered a single, firm word, her refreshed hope granting a steadiness to her voice:

"No."

 

[cgraven]

Cecilia's certainty that the ethereal, intangible purity of the human race would triumph over all unnatural evils sustained her will to resist. Unmoving, unblinking, she levelly returned Simon's gaze, and offered a single, firm word, her refreshed hope granting a steadiness to her voice:

"No."
Cecilia naively innocent belief was quickly dashed as Simons hand lashed out in a flash like a bolt of lightning. The sharp crack of the blow that struck her cheek knocked Cecilia to her knees before the stung little beauty could react comprehend that he had truly struck her the proud lithe beauty found that a collar had been buckled and locked around her slender neck just like the one in the illustration that had so mesmerized her earlier that day. There was a sharp little snap of a leash being attracted to the collar. Simon tossed Peter the leash.

“ Bring the little whore to my laboratory Peter. Paul make sure she runs all the way.”

De Guise turned his back on her as if she were less than nothing.. Peter gave a tug on Cecilia’s lead and when she baulked she felt the sharp bite of a rising crop across her tight little naked derrière.

“Monsieur said run whore!”
The sharp crack of the crop kept Cecilia running like a high spirited little bitch on a lead. She was lead through the mansion up stairs and down until she was finally led to the dungeon that served as De Guise laboratory. And in the center of the room was a blood stained sacrificial alter and by it the very device she had seen in the illustration and now which she herself was being strapped to.

 

[laceandcogs]

Cecilia found herself being forced into the device from the illustration that had so aroused her this afternoon. While she took a bit of solace from the anger and disappointment that her refusal had brought from Simon, it was cold comfort- now she was even more helpless, stung raw from the crop. The leather of the collar creaked against her supple skin, and she felt its tightness- knowing that even the slightest tug from Simon would begin to restrict her breath.

With her terror and madness mounting by the second, the hope that had encouraged Cecilia before began to fade. There was nothing to do but wait, vulnerable and "guarded" by two men every bit as depraved and vicious as their master.