Countless nights and countless dreams have been necessary for me to realize that the spider web in which I found myself entangled was not just a figment of my imagination.
As I strolled down the wide corridors of the manor, my arms laden with linen and sheets, the strange feeling of no longer belonging to me sometimes grabbed me. As a shell emptied little by little of its substance, a bitter emptiness deepened in me and gnawed me from the inside. But not when I was no longer alone, not when used for impure purposes; these moments had become the only ones that gave meaning to my existence well in spite of myself.
The young master Alois seemed to have more than appreciated the caresses of my mouth; all our encounters only ended that way. To my teary eyes and my blushing complexion was added the infamy of being stolen before Claude's eyes most of the time. The burning of his eyes on my skin became a little more intense each time, but the slight curvature at the corner of his lips also reminded me of the delicious abuse that would soon befall me; whatever the demands of my young master they were just an appetizer for what would follow.
But as soon as I found myself alone, untouched, this emptiness in me resumed its drilling, inexorably, until the day when it would be big enough to swallow me whole. So sometimes, when the disgust of me became unbearable and the very idea of praying for the salvation of my soul reviled me, I opened myself to Claude.
The last time was that winter night, cold and dark. No one in this mansion seemed to feel the cold, as if they were already dead inside. The only light came from the young master's bathroom, where life was, where I was called.
"Get undressed and come, Lili, you're going to bathe me!" exclaimed Alois, as happily as ever.
I stepped forward, submissive and shamefully grateful, letting my dress fall to my feet once near the bathtub where the young count produced squeaks while rubbing his body against the damp walls. His attitude towards me seemed unchanged; he always acted like a child with his toy, manipulating it to the point of breaking it sometimes, or caressing it as the most precious thing in the world. But in his azure eyes something different was shining when this time I had exposed myself to him; a lascivious halo that all the innocence of the world could no longer extinguish.
He no longer looked at me as before, he looked at me like a man desires a woman I think, and thus revived the embers of my criminal inclination. In the hot swirls of rose and jasmine that filled the room, he had risen and extended his hand towards me, inviting me to grab it and join him in his bath. He showed no modesty, thus exposing his slenderbody shining of water that found no hold on his smooth skin.
I will always curse myself for finding him so beautiful every time I saw him that way. How can such a bruised and tyrannical child exhibit such purity?
Claude was watching us from the back of the room, near the door, where the flames of the candelabra could not reach him and it was exactly how I imagined him constantly, lurking in the dark recesses, and waiting for me to stumble.
"Kneel down now, you'll wash my hair." My young master rekindled as he sat down in the whitish water with the salts and perfumes that were mixed up in it.
I executed myself, putting my buttocks on my heels in hot water, and he stretched his legs and slid them on each side of my knees. I clumsily passed the wet soap into his thin hair and began rubbing it gently, in circular motions, pressing his skin with my fingertips. His eyes, first closed, then rested on my still dry chest. Raising his hands out of the water, he clasped his fingers over the pink tips of my breasts and let the water drip onto them. The moist and warm contact and the movement of the cooler air around made them react and harden.
Alois chuckled softly, amused by the thin skin that wrinkled, then resumed. When that had no effect anymore, he leaned over and titillated them with the tip of his tongue. In my belly, a tickle pointed and I could not hold back a weak complaint, hardly a trembling breath; he paused and looked up at my embarrassed face and my motionless hands.
"Keep on going." He ordered simply in a firm and sweet tone at a time.
I resumed my task, still lathering on his head the odorous soap, while he gently lifted his hands along my thighs, following the curve of my hips, and grabbed my buttocks, hugging the flesh between his fingers. Between my legs my sex flinched. I was short of breath, and despite my master's orders, my hands slid down his soapy nape to cling to his neck as he pulled my pelvis against his chest.
Alois hugged me. It may seem banal during frolics; a hug, but deep inside me I felt that it was more than just a momentum of the body. His velvety face against my belly, he had wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed as one restrains a loved one. It was affection and I was mortified not to know how to return it to him.
I cast a supplicating glance toward the dark corner where only the yellow eyes of the butler shone, but he did nothing, of course; I did not know yet that my bruises were precisely the object of the contract which united us.
Delicate kissing on my navel brought my attention back to Alois. Such kindness was far from the habits of my young master so I watched with amazement spread on me the foam of his hair in gentle gestures. While I was expecting him at all times to get up and order me to relieve his erection in my mouth, his hands slipped on my hips and grabbed my buttocks again before I felt his fingers creep between my thighs and touch my cunt.
I gasped then; my sex contracted on contact, a volley of delicious chills ran through my stomach. What was happening? I did not understand. Of all those times we had been together, never had my own pleasure been a concern for my young master. My body had been explored only to satisfy his own curiosity, for his own amusement. But at that moment, his desire was indeed to move me. His fingers gently caressed my slit, sinking into me in small soft and light movements.
He tightened the grip of his arms around my thighs and his face went up between my breasts that he touched his tongue despite the foam that covered them.
I was stunned. Stunned and feverish under his caresses and, for any voice, only whimpering formed in my throat.
Pressing against my knees, his cock already swollen rubbed against my skin. My mind became empty of all coherent thought; all I wanted then was to feel it in me, filling all the dead space in my bowels, feeding the beast that was eating away at my soul.
"Take me, master ..." I then begged, out of breath and control.
Such words would never have left my mouth before. Before this house, before Alois, before Claude. They would never have dared to form in my mind. But that thought did not come to me then, not when he grabbed my thighs and lifted me just enough to slide his legs between mine, not when he slammed my body on his own and, sliding down his chest and belly, driven by the movement of the water, he penetrated me without encountering any resistance.
Complete, finally. This delight that only two bodies can cause to one another, this union so deliciously unnatural. While I was riding him, he had sunk in me with as much willpower as a man, with as much strength and vigor as a lover who is well versed in this kind of exercise. Then faster, then more intensely, he pounded me to the most devastating ecstasy.
I still do not come back today from this embrace, this memory moves me still when beyond the hills of my mind the heavens are clear and peaceful.
Then it revels me and the weather darkens. It makes me indignant for all that that implied then, for all the ugliness that the human heart can contain and the cruelty of such an act on a creature already eaten away by evil and shame like me.
Oh, my poor, my beautiful Alois ... what did you do there?
