Back in the kitchen Bertrand grabbed the bottle from the counter, sitting down in his chair next to it. The boys brought in the last of the ravished dishes and started to clean them in the large tub. Marius closed the door behind him as he entered the cook’s domain. “Well better get start with the next meal…” he looked at the old man who seemed to be lost in either the bottle in his hand or the thoughts in his head. “Bertrand?” The giant posture hardly registered being called. “You know Marius, I was telling the truth when I said I was too old for this crap.” His voice lacked the volume it usually had. “First when it were strangers, it was easy. But lately…“ A deep sigh expelled the scent of alcohol from his mouth. “I’ve seen to many people disappear… after a while I just didn’t even tried to care anymore.” He shook his head “I just… I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to see those boys end up as runaways as well” He looked at Marius, gave another sigh and with a load groan he returned to his feet. “Something is happening here and although we pretend otherwise we all know what it is!” Bertrand’s voice started to regain its normal strength. “I can’t do this anymore Marius, can you understand?” Pacing thought the room he shortly was lost in thoughts again. “I’ve been thinking, maybe we can rally the people from the nearby town. I know they are nobles, but they just can’t kill people like that.” The two boys by now had stopped, their terror filled eyes followed as the giant made his way circling the counter a third time. “My friend, if you need to do this, I cannot stop you. But I will not join you either.” Bertrand stopped in his tracks as he heard the words. “Marius, don’t tell me you side with those… monsters.” Marius wiped a few red strands of hair back behind his ear. “I’m not on their sides, it is just…” Bertrand made a few quick steps past the counter, grabbing a knife from its surface. “There IS no just, you are with them or against.” He could feel the sharp metal making its way past skin, in to the flesh under it. Blood started to slowly drip over his hand, soon flowing in large quantities onto the floor. Marius made a few staggering steps away from his attacker, looking to the wound in his abdomen. When he raised his gaze up, he just saw Bertrand making his way outside with the two boys. Being greeted by the first rays of sunlight poring over the horizon.
“I have a little surprise for you my love” Lady Verona caressed her husband’s face tenderly. “Remember the young girl we saw last time we passed through the countryside?” Lord Verona raised an eyebrow in a questioning way. “Oww don’t play the fool with me, I noticed you fancying her.” His wife continued. “Well I’ve made some arrangements and brought her here for you.” With those words she signaled the servant closest to her. After a few moments two men wearing masks brought in a young woman. Wearing her black hair elegantly lose on her back, flowers decorated in a crown on her head. She was dressed in a long white gown, giving her a slightly angelic visage. The only thing betraying her fear was her eyes, darting quickly around trying to take in the surroundings. The men lead her up to the Lord and Lady, forcing her on her knees. “She is pretty isn’t she.” Lord Verona’s eyes drank in her image lustfully. “… we will be having some fun with her.” A soft fearful sob was heard coming from the girl. “Bring my husband’s tools.” A large flat chest and sofa where brought and placed in the middle of the ballroom. The guests of which most were still indulging themselves in carnal lusts, started to revel at the coming spectacle. With some force the girl was lead to the sofa and told to sit down, skittishly she complied. Lord Verona slowly walked towards her, arms raised at the air in an elegant way. “My honored guests, my friends…” His voice echoed over the sounds of pleasure “… see this tender flower, untouched till this very moment. Feel her trembling, her emotions wanting to be freed.” His feeling for dramatic theater showed in the fact he gained the attention of all. “Who has a suggestion how to free this flower of all she has pent-up inside her?” He grasped her face with gentle fingers, bringing it closer to his. Deeply inhaling her odor though his nose, then releasing it in a deep sigh. He turned his head to let his eyes wonder around. Some of the spectators started to shout their ideas, others made suggestive movements with hands, arms or hips. Lord Verona again turned his attention towards the terrified girl on the sofa. “It seems they have not yet made up their mind just yet…” the stern look in his eyes and grinning smile on his lips gave him a sinister appearance “… I on the other hand, know exactly how.” With a rough motion he pushed the girl from his grip, back into the sofa. “Bind her!” The masked men quickly grasped her wrists and tied them to the sofa’s legs. A couple of spectators started to laugh enthusiastically, knowing what to expect next. Their host quickly made his way to the chest, retrieving a tail flogger and displaying it to the crowd. “How about I use this?” Shouts were made, some in agreement, most not. “You are right my dear friends, maybe later.” Giving his first find to one of the masked men, he dove back in the chest. The second item he displayed was a wooden paddle, to which the crowd gave an overwhelming agreeing sheer. “I’m here to please only you.” He elegantly waved the paddle a few time over his head, then walked back to the sofa. He kneeled near where the girl’s head was, whispering softly in her ear. “Don’t be afraid my child, I assure you, you will enjoy this.” He then got up, gently raising the dress over her back, exposing bare cheeks. A slap could be heard as the wood made contact with flesh, followed by a high pitched scream. The lord softly caressed the red glow forming where just the hard wood had been. Gently kissing the spot, he whispered kind words over the trembling back. He repeated the process a few times, making sure the girl recovered in between. With each slap and scream echoing through the ballroom, the crowd started cheering venting their enthusiasm and lust for the spectacle. After the 13th slap lord Verona placed the paddle against the sofa, walking to the headend. He saw tears rolling down the girl’s face, her lips trembling slightly. Coming close in he again started to whisper “Relax my darling child, enjoy the pleasure and let lose your emotions.” He grasped her black hair and roughly pulled it back. A scream of agony started to come from the girl’s mouth, but was quickly muffled by lord Verona’s invading tongue. First fighting, then after her resistance seemed to be broken, he wrestling over supremacy in the bodily cavern. She answered his passionate kiss, losing herself in the spout of emotions bubbling from deep inside her. “Yes… free yourself… feel your lust… let it embrace you.” The lord returned back to the paddle, wielding it as before. Yet where first the slap would be followed by a scream of pain, it now would be one of pleasure. Again and again he made contact, in ecstasy by the sounds his playmate produced.
When his muscles started to feel fatigue, he dropped the paddle in a dramatic sense. The sudden clatter of wood connecting with the floor startled many guests. He motioned for a chair while exclaiming to the onlookers “The flower seems to be on fire, bring us some wine to cool the heat.” An elderly man made quick steps, hoping to be first with his goblet filled with spirits. Stumbling over his own feet he spilled the liquid over the floor, forming a red pool reflecting his disappointed face. “There is no need to hurry my friend, all will have their turn.” A loud laughter rose from the crowd, as the man embarrassedly looked around. A younger man placed his glass at the white flower’s lips, gently tipping it’s contains over the brim. As a reward for his generosity he now could chose the next manor in which the girl would be treated. His eyes eagerly slide over many whips, rods and flails in the chest. After some thought he reached for a long horse whip and quickly waved it a few times in front of him. A soft swishing sound could be heard as it made its way through the air. Then he turned to his host, displaying his choice in hopes to get an approval. The lord slightly nodded in a modest way, but his eyes showed a thrill of enjoyment. Taking his place at the girl’s rear, the young man placed the whip gently on the left cheek. With a swishing motion he retrieved the leather rod and a second swish he had it return. An expression of sharp pain could be seen on the girl’s face, but a lustful moan left her throat. His excitement started to stir between his legs as he repeated this act, paying attention to both left and right cheek. Just as he started to develop a sweat, the strong grip of Lord Verona stopped him. “Now, now, we don’t want to have the flower… just yet.” With a short bow, the young man offered the whip back to his owner and with a polite “your Grace” he returned to his chair in the crowd. A nearby onlooker immediately fell on his knees and started to suck off the young man’s flesh.
Many guests had their way with the young girl, who by now laid in her torn dress heavily panting partly on the ground, partly on the sofa. The old man who just filled her throat with his creamy seamen, wiped his pride and joy on her forehead and cheek. Whip marks could be seen from upper legs to her lower back, surrounded by al shades of red glow. Cooled candle wax mixed with all sorts of fluids stained her breasts and neck. On her wrists where signs they had been retied several times. From his throne Lord Verona looked upon the scene, crotch being fondled by his wife. “My love, I’m bored of seeing the rabble having their way with my gift to you. You barely played with it, why not enjoy it some more.” A slight smile crept over his face, pondering his wife’s suggestion. Raising a goblet with wine to his and emptied it in big gulps. “You are right, it’s much more fun if oneself is playing.” With those words he slowly returned on his feet, swaying in a half drunk elegant way. A woman pushed the white flower’s face onto her slit with a smothering force. The strong grasp of Lord Verona’s hand was felt on her shoulder, giving a slight pull. Enraged she opened her eyes turning to the person who dared to interrupt her moment, only to bow humbly before her host. “It’s time to pluck this flower, adding her to my collection.” he eyed the girl at his feet, feeling an overwhelming sense of dominance. He kneeled next to her, untied the wrists and placed her back on the sofa. His prick made contact to her bare skin, sensing the heat radiated from inside. Where he earlier roughly forced his kiss on the girl’s lips, the lord now gently pressed his kiss upon her. “Ready to be totally freed of your suppressed feelings?” A soft moan was all she could respond with, but was all the man needed. With one strong motion he turned the flower on her stomach, another to raise her rear into the air. His hand again in his softest touch, stroke over the marks left by his guests. The fingers felt pleasant as they gave a cooling sensation her heated skin. A second hand was placed on her other cheek, both starting to softly massage the meaty flesh under their grasp. With every outward motion separating the halves, Lord Verona could see a long crevasse. As his thumb caressed from the puckering hole to her dripping slit, she gave a deep moan. A smile formed on his lips, as he roughly pulled the cheeks apart as far as he could. With one motion he forced himself into her lustful body, another moan escaped from her lips. He stretched her to widths she never could imagine, filling her to the limit. Not giving her time to adjust to the new sensation, the lord withdrew entirely only to force his way back in. After a few times her moans where less of agony and more off enjoyment. Sensing the ease he could enter with, he increased the rhythm. Powerful trusts made the wooden sofa under them squeak. More sounds of pleasure could be heard as some of the crowd, inspired by the spectacle, again gave in to their lust. “Such beautiful music me make, no soul can resist to dance to it.” A suppressed groan escaped her lips as an answer, having lost anything resembling a voice in her ecstasy. His pounding increased in both force and speed, sounds of skin slapping skin and moans with similar noises from the crowd. Feeling a familiar sensation coming from deep within, Lord Verona started to breathe heavily speeding onto a next orgasm.
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