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| The Questioning | Back to M | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
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| The Questioning | Back to M | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
The Questioning
(M/ff, incest, nc, humil, D/s)
By William Drake
"William Drake" <mast_1945@hotmail.com>
Jean Cardinal Devereaux paused before descending the short, narrow
steps that led to a small, almost hidden door in the side of the castle. He
looked around, observing the beauty of the marvelous spring day. A few
scattered, puffy clouds dotted an otherwise deep blue sky. A gentle breeze
wafted the scent of jasmine to him from the castle gardens.
He reflected on the unpleasantness that lay before him. A part of
him wished he hadn't had to leave the set aside for his use the convent this
morning. 'So young,' he mused. 'So delicious ...'
Clarice was her name, and Mother Agnes had set her aside for him,
as she frequently did with the lovelier of the young novices. But Clarice
was special, even among that toothsome group. Only sixteen ... the oldest
of four daughters of a family of the lesser nobility ... four daughters
before they finally brought forth the long sought for son. Naturally, there
was no way they could afford to dower four young girls, so they did what
such families always did. As soon as their oldest was of appropriate age,
they'd sent her to the Convent of St. Teresa to take her vows as a nun.
This morning, immediately after the convent's morning prayers,
she'd been sent to his room. Her face, so beautiful above the white robes
of a novice, had almost taken his breath away. He'd had her stand before
him as he'd lectured her on her duties ... on what she owed the Fathers of
the Church. She'd been terrified of actually being in the presence of one
of the Princes of the Church ... a man who intimately knew the Pope himself!
She'd trembled when his hands reached out ... when he'd cupped her
swelling young breasts through the light fabric of her gown. She'd trembled
... but she hadn't objected. And when he'd slowly raised the hem of her
sole garment, she'd taken one small step backwards, but at his barked
command, she'd frozen in place.
Cardinal Devereaux had licked his lips as he'd studied the
fullness of her young, white thighs, still a mixture of baby fat and womanly
flesh ... the light scattering of hair across the base of her belly ... the
pinkness of her soft labial lips showing through ... She'd only hesitated a
moment when he'd directed her to move her feet apart, and although she'd
gasped when he slipped two fingers high between her parted thighs, she'd
said nothing. She'd simply stood there as he'd gently manipulated her
clitoris.
His Eminence had been pleased when she'd quickly moistened under
his touch ... the way she'd bitten her lower lip ... the way her still
maturing hips had begun to move sensuously under his searching fingers ...
It had been a simple matter to move those two fingers deeper ... to gently
insert them into the vestibule of her vagina just deep enough to verify that
she was, indeed, still virginal.
With one hand pressing down on her shoulder, he'd commanded her to
kneel before him in prayer. Then he'd taken one of her wrists in his hand
and guided it through the slit in the front of his special red robe. Her
eyes had opened wide in shock as her fingers had encountered his swelling
organ. But there was no resistance as he'd used his grip on her wrist to
begin stroking her fingers up and down its gristly length. If anything, her
natural curiosity about the fleshy column in her hand seemed to guide it
almost as effectively as the pressure he was exerting.
At this point, the thirty-nine year old cleric had been mightily
tempted to relieve the girl of her virginity then and there! But the
knowledge that he had to leave, and the desire to spend enough time on
breaking this lovely morsel in to make it a truly memorable event, had
stopped him. Instead, he'd reached in that same slit and drawn out his
rampant organ.
The youthful novice had verbally stumbled over her prayer at the
sight of the first erect cock she'd ever seen, but she tried to move on.
Move on, that is, until the Cardinal's hand took the back of her head and
pulled it toward his crotch. He'd told her to open her mouth, but she
seemed to sense that demand even before it was uttered. Silently, he'd
placed the head of his dick between her lips, then pulled her lovely,
childlike face down over it. Then, her head grasped firmly between his two
large hands, he'd begun fucking her sweet face. He'd grinned down at her as
she'd looked up to him, her eyes pleading. But he'd not felt like showing
her mercy. Gruffly, he 'd ordered her to suck ... to use her tongue on his
large cock. And the poor dear had tried. Her lips were stretched to the
point of whiteness, but she'd tried.
She'd even tried mightily to swallow his entire load when he'd
finally blown it in her cute, little mouth. She'd not quite succeeded, but
she'd tried.
He'd left her there, curled up on the floor, sobbing quietly.
He'd given directions that she was to be taken to the chapel and watched as
she prayed for forgiveness for her failure until he returned.
One more look around, then he descended the stairs and opened the
door.
+ + + + +
There were two people waiting for Cardinal Devereaux in the large,
dungeon-like room. Father Gerard sat under one of the oil lamps that
circled the walls, quietly reading from scripture. But it was the other who
captured the prelate's immediate attention.
Madame de la Moitier occupied the center of the room. She was
suspended from the ceiling by ropes bound around her wrists. Her ankles
were secured to the legs of a sawhorse-like object which had been bolted to
the floor. It was back far enough to cause her hips to be thrust back,
forcing her upper body to lean forward slightly over it. Her gown had been
lowered to her waist. That, and the position of the horse, resulted in her
heavy breasts dangling down and away from her chest.
A gag had been inserted in her mouth, but her eyes went
immediately to him and silently implored him.
Devereaux studied her for a moment. Something about her ... maybe
it was the way her breasts hung there so full and heavy, reminded him of
Margueritte, the first woman he'd sexually possessed. 'Or rather,' he
thought honestly, 'the first woman who ever possessed me.' Margueritte had
been about this woman's age, possibly in her late thirties, and one of his
family's servants when he'd just entered his teens. He'd never forgotten
that sweet afternoon when she'd come across him playing with himself. She'd
smiled, then had taken him to a storage room in the back of his father's
mansion. There she'd lowered his pants, taken him in hand, and taught him
that a woman could make him feel a joy more intense than he could by
himself. Eventually she'd laid back on the floor, pulled up her skirt,
spread her thighs, and drawn him down on top of her.
He smiled at the memory. Within a month from that date, he
believed he'd entered the bodies of virtually every one of his father's
female servants.
He shook off the memories and looked over at the priest as he
arose. "Has she said anything yet?"
Father Gerard shook his head. "Nothing at all when I strung her
up, your eminence. Just proclaiming her innocence, of course. Since then
I've kept her gagged, waiting for you."
The Cardinal nodded his head, then ripped the gag from the woman's
mouth. "Have you anything to say for yourself, bitch?" he growled. "Have
you decided to confess your sins and tell us where your faithless husband is
hiding?"
"I've done nothing wrong, your eminence," the bound woman sobbed.
"I'm innocent. Please release me. In the name of God help me!"
Devereaux drew back his hand, formed it into a fist, and drove it
into the woman's vulnerable left breast with all his strength. The woman
shrieked in pain as her pillowy cushion was driven all the way to her
breastbone. "Listen, you whore!" he commanded. "We know about your husband
... that he has joined the Hugenots ... that he and others have plotted to
assassinate the King. We know that he has left to join them. He is an
enemy of God's church, and if you persist in hiding him, you are as well!"
This time he drew back his other hand, keeping it open this time. As he
slapped her right breast, his cock began to swell as he watched it sway from
side to side. "Your immortal soul is in peril. Talk or you will burn
forever in the deepest pit of hell!"
Madame de la Moitier was sobbing too deeply to talk, but as tears
streamed down her cheeks, she frantically shook her head from side to side.
Devereaux nodded to the young priest, who picked up what looked
like a complex leather harness and handed it to him. Slipping it over the
sobbing woman's head, he fastened the two broad straps around the bases of
her free-swinging breasts. Then, holding each of her breasts with one hand
in turn, he yanked the cinches so tight that her tits swelled out over the
bands. Giving them one last tug to tighten them even further, he fastened
them in place.
He grinned at the way her already large boobs were increased in
size by the painful pressure, then snapped his fingers at the younger
cleric. Father Gerard silently placed the handle of the flogger in his
outstretched hand. He held it up before her face, showing her the dozen,
short, cruel leather flails.
"You leave me no choice, my dear. This is your last chance. Are
you going to tell me where he is?"
Madame de la Moitier bit her lower lips, then shook her head.
Grinning, Cardinal Devereaux raised the flogger and brought it down across
one pendulous breast with a sharp snap. The bound woman cried out softly.
Her tormentor felt his penis stir as he studied the pattern of red lines
that now marked her poor mammary. He didn't hesitate. He raised the
flogger again and struck the twin of the first. This time a thong caught
right across the nipple, actually drawing a drop of blood and the bound
woman groaned in pain.
"Do you feel more like talking now, bitch?" he asked pleasantly.
When she shook her head, Father Gerard turned to him. "I think it's time we
divested this slut of the rest of her clothing," the priest told him. The
Cardinal nodded his permission.
The priest grinned and immediately stepped behind the hanging
woman, grabbed the waist of her gown, and ripped it down and away from her.
Cardinal Devereaux unconsciously licked his lips as he studied her nudity.
Her legs were a bit too full for his tastes, but he had to concede they were
attractive. If nothing else, they at least tapered to a pair of
surprisingly slim ankles. But what really caught his eye was her pubic
bush. Clearly visible just below where the crossbar of the horse cut across
her belly, it was as thick and black as any he'd ever seen.
His priest assistant, meanwhile, concentrated his attention on her
bounteous buttocks. He smiled happily and even had the temerity to wink at
his superior as his hands reached out and caressed them roughly.
"Please, Monsieur," she whispered, doing her best to ignore the
young prelates lewd hands. "For the sake of God, have mercy on me."
He stepped up so close to her that his lips virtually brushed her
bare, sweat-slickened shoulder. "It is too late, my dear, to plead for
God's mercy." One of his hands came to rest on the bowl of her belly, then
slipped lower to toy with the hairs of her pubes. "You have turned your
back on Him ... sworn yourself to be an enemy to his servants. And he has
abandoned you to hell!"
So saying, he stepped back, lowered the flogger to let its thongs
trail across the floor between her feet. As Father Gerard backed away from
her, he snapped it up between her widely spread thighs.
"AIGHHHHHH!!!" Her scream rent the air of the dungeon like all
the demons of the underworld that Devereaux had just consigned her soul to
.Out of the corner of his eye, he noted that Father Gerard's prick now stood
at full attention beneath his priestly robes. That, he told himself, was as
it should be. The horny prelate had been chosen as the church's primary
torturer for several reasons. He wasn't too bright ... he was strong ... he
took pleasure in his assigned duties ... and, perhaps most importantly, he
was reputed to be equipped with the most impressive male organ in all of
France!
The Cardinal barely wait until the woman's high-pitched scream of
pain had faded before he dropped the flogger and brought it up again. Then
... a third cutting blow to the tortured woman's cunt. This time her
screams were truly piteous, but otherwise she held her silence.
Father Gerard shook his head. "I'm afraid she isn't going to
talk, your Eminence."
"It may be you're right, Father. At least, not under God's
punishment to herself. Satan has too strong a hold on her. But there are
other means."
Leaving the two of them in the dungeon, he strode down an attached
corridor to a barred doorway. Taking a key from under his robe, he unlocked
it and entered. The room was dark; the only light coming through a small
barred window nearly ten feet above the floor. But it was light enough for
him to see the room's only occupant. The fifteen year old girl, clad only
in a short, white chemise, her wrists bound together in the small of her
back, lay curled up in the far corner. Her name was Lisette, and she was
the daughter of Madame de la Moitier.
"What ... what do you want?" she asked in a soft, frightened
voice.
The Cardinal looked at her silently for a moment. She was young
... even a bit younger than he usually preferred them ... but the sight of
her plump, young legs still had a distinct effect on him. Them rather than
answering her, he reached down, grabbed a handful of her light colored hair,
and began dragging her from the room.
"What ...? What ... ?" The youngster almost shrieked. "What have
I done, your Eminence? What are you going to do to me?" She struggled to
get her feet under herself to take the pressure off her hair. "I haven't
done anything wrong. I swear I haven't!"
He half dragged her down the corridor to the room he'd left the
other two in. He wasn't at all surprised to find Father Gerard behind the
bound woman, his hands around her, mauling her striped breasts, his teeth
nibbling the side of her neck as his pelvis ground against her wriggling
bottom.
The Cardinal had virtually ignored him as he dragged the young
girl to stand before her mother, the two of them facing each other as he
stood behind the younger. "Now will you tell me where your husband is,
bitch?" he asked gruffly.
"Lisette," the woman breathed. Her eyes went to the Cardinal
behind her. "Please, Monsieur," she begged. "Leave her alone. She has
done nothing."
"True," he smiled. "But she is your daughter. And you have
sinned against God. It will be a part of your punishment to watch her die."
So saying, he moved his hands slowly up from the teenager's shoulder. His
fingers closed over the supple, white flesh and dug into her swanlike neck.
Madame de la Moitier's eyes went wide. "No!" she screamed.
"Please, your Eminence! My daughter is blameless! She has done nothing!"
The Cardinal only grinned at the older woman's distress. In
truth, he had to admit to himself that he was enjoying the way the
youngster's ass was bucking against his growing cock through his robe as she
struggled for breath. 'So pert,' he thought. 'So round ... so firm.' His
penis was in almost full erection now, reveling in the soft pressure from
her squirming, fifteen year old buttocks.
"All right!" the mother screamed in resignation. "I'll talk!
I'll tell you what you want to know, but only spare my daughter!"
Sighing, Devereaux released the young girl. He didn't even look
down as she collapsed at his feet. The sound of gasping told him she was
still alive, but his attention was riveted on her mother.
The woman was sobbing, sagging in her bonds in defeat. "They're
at a small cottage about a mile and a quarter downhill from Chateau
d'Rossel. Please your Eminence, show mercy to them. They meant no harm to
anyone."
He ignored her pleas and merely nodded to Father Gerard. The
priest immediately left the room. He would give orders for the raid, and he
knew enough to not bother suggesting any mercy for the miscreants. They
would be dead before nightfall.
That left only the two females. Naturally, his original intention
had been to have the mother burned at the stake. Lisette, on the other hand,
had actually committed no sin. Her fate would have been to be sent to the
brothel whose inmates function was to entertain the King's soldiers. But as
he looked down at her on the floor, still struggling to get her breath, he
wondered if so ripe a virgin wasn't too good a fair for common ruffians.
Her short gown was rucked up about her waist. Her legs and hips were so
well rounded ... so fair against the background of the dark floor. Her
pubic mound was beautiful with it's light scattering of short, light hairs.
It seemed to beckon to him. Grinning down at her, he raised the front of
his robe and tucked it into the waistband, exposing his rampant prick.
"Your Eminence!" the mother cried in shock, realizing the horny
churchman's intentions. "You promised. I betrayed my husband to you. I
told you everything you wanted to know!"
He grabbed a handful of the woman's hair, bending her face up.
His dick brushed across her bare belly as he planted a hard kiss on her
lips. "I promised nothing, bitch!" he growled. "But you spoke, so I'll let
the little cunt live. But there's no reason I shouldn't enjoy her a little,
is there?"
Lisette had recovered enough to begin to understand what he meant.
Fear suffused her features as her eyes seemed glued to the stiff column of
flesh protruding from his belly. She started trying to scoot away from him
on her back. It would have been simple enough for him to grab her leg and
pull her back, but, as she raised one foot to get purchase to slide further,
he found it easier to deliver a swift kick in her crotch with the toe of one
boot.
"AIGHHHH!" The young teenager's body doubled up in agony as his
boot bruised her tender, virginal pussy lips. As the girl's mother sobbed,
Cardinal Devereaux dropped to his knees, grabbed the young girl's legs, and
yanked them apart. Licking his lips, he doubled her spread legs back to
where her knees almost touched her shoulders. Then he settled himself
between them, his penis nestling on the silky hairs that partially covered
her pubic mound.
He kissed her lips softly and whispered against them. "You're a
sweet little piece, aren't you?" he asked. "Are you ready to become a
woman, slut?"
Rather than wait for an answer, he put one hand on the base of his
throbbing organ and positioned its head against her dry, virgin hole. His
face only inches from hers, he grinned down at her, then inserted the head
of his penis at the opening that had never before known a man's prick. He
grunted as he sank the head in, feeling it come to rest against her hymen.
The heart-rending shriek from the girl's bound mother only encouraged him.
Licking his lips, he plunged downwards, feeling the tissue tear under the
weight of his body. He grunted happily, the tender surface of his erection
feeling everything ... the way her pubic hairs softly caressed it ... the
tightness of the inner surface grasping it ...
"Ohhhhh ... FUCK!" he exclaimed.
The deflowered maiden was crying in pain now. He gently licked
the tears from her cheeks as he slowly drove the full length of his manhood
down into her warm, tight belly. "You're a tight one, baby," he whispered.
"Such a wonderful little cunt! It would be a shame to waste it. You should
spend your life on your back with your legs spread, little one," he
chuckled. "And maybe you shall!"
His hands slid down and buried themselves in her sweet, soft
buttocks. Pulling her hips up off the floor, he began running his cock in
and out, groaning with pleasure each time he sank its full length into her
pain-wracked vagina. He knew that his victim's mother still stood bound
over him, unable to stop watching his bare, writhing butt as he drove in and
out of her helpless daughter. That only added to the thrill he was
receiving from the clasp of the youngster's dry, tender tissues clinging to
his thick, stiff dick.
"Move your ass, whore!" he demanded. Bending his head down, he
took her breast in his mouth and bit down hard on her nipple. The girl
yelped in agony, and her hips did begin to pitch. Devereaux raised his
head, stretching out her nipple, enjoying her attempts to somehow escape
him. Her frantic movements quickly sent him over the edge.
"Oh yes, slut! Shake that ass! Move that cunt!" He began
plowing her in earnest, feeling his crotch slapping into her slim, shapely
belly as his balls drew up. The horny churchman groaned as his gooey load
began flooding the young girl's once virginal cove.
+ + + + +
By the time Father Gerard returned, Cardinal Devereaux had
restored his robe to it's pristine condition. However, Madame de la Moitier
still hung suspended, her head down. Her daughter still lay on the floor,
sobbing softly. She hadn't even bothered trying to pull her garment down.
It was high enough to allow her pert, lemon-sized breasts to peek out
underneath. In addition, the Cardinal's sperm had trickled out across her
thighs, carrying with it flecks of blood from the loss of her virginity.
"The soldiers have left," the priest informed his superior. He
looked at the young girl on the floor and licked his lips. "It will we done
within the hour."
"Very well, Father."
The older man noted that the younger's robe was tenting out again.
Ordinarily, he would he encouraged his colleague to sample the teenager's
body himself. But while he was waiting, he'd changed his mind on the fate
of the two. A few years previously, he'd been called to the home of a rich,
middle-class merchant who'd always been a loyal supporter of the crown. The
man had been a horrible hypochondriac, and he'd contracted something that
convinced him, incorrectly, that he was dying. Devereaux had spent two
weeks there. During his stay, the man's lovely wife and their charming
teenage daughter had enthusiastically entertained the prince of the church
together in his bed. The two of them had been quite ... inventive.
As much as he'd enjoyed their attentions, he realized that
repeating the experience with a pair who were less co-operative ... a pair
who would require a certain amount of ... encouragement ... could be an even
more pleasurable interlude. Yes, he would cancel the mother's journey to
the stake. He would order the two of them to be moved to the cells in the
basement of his sprawling chateaux.
"I'm afraid I can't offer you the services of the young woman," he
told his companion. "However ..." He cast his eyes to the naked figure of
the mother, still hanging in her bonds.
Father Gerard grinned at him. "That's perfectly all right your
eminence," he said. She's a toothsome creature herself, isn't she?"
The young priest grabbed the bottom of his robe and pulled it off
over his head, revealing himself to be naked beneath it. All three of the
others in the room looked on him with astonishment. 'My God,' thought
Devereaux. 'That thing must be a foot long, and it's only half hard!' The
two females, despite their differing plights, looked at his cock with the
same sense of astonished wonder. Madame de la Moitier in particular reacted
with shock. Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but no sound
emerged from between them. She stayed silent as the priest moved behind her
and his hands returned to again to her buttocks. But as he moved his cock
between the two swelling mounds ... when she finally understood just what he
intended ... she found her voice.
"Ohmigod! No!!" she looked over at Devereaux, as if she expected
him to somehow prevent what she saw as an abomination. "Please, your
eminence. Don't allow him to do this! He'll kill me. He'll tear me
apart!"
The cardinal stepped up to her and grabbed a breast, twisting it
painfully, watching the pliant flesh ooze out from between his strong
fingers. "There may be some damage, my dear," he grinned. "A little
tearing, I'd assume. But it won't kill you. In fact, I'd imagine that
things almost as large have emerged from that hole as that which is about to
enter."
He peeked down over her shoulder and watched as Gerard hands
parted her asscheeks. He smiled happily as he placed the head his penis
plant itself against her cowering sphincter, grasped her hips to hold them
even more firmly against the wooden horse, and shoved his own lower body
forward.
"AIGHHHHHH!!!" The woman's high pitched scream as the monstrous
penis invaded her rectum was the loudest he'd ever heard. The young priest
struggled against the tender, dry hole until he had rammed half the length
up the screaming woman's ass.
"Tight," he muttered to his superior. "Beautifully, beautifully
tight!" So saying, he drew his column of flesh back out until only the head
remained, then lunged forward again, this time burying his full erection in
her colon.
Tears ran down the bound mother's cheeks as her ravisher began
plunging in and out of her asshole. Cardinal Devereaux peaked down over her
shoulder, watching the huge organ plundering her vitals. He noted specks of
blood on its surface and concluded that the ripping of her tender tissues
was minor enough to prevent serious debilitating injury. He smiled
internally as he concluded that the young man was only stretching her a bit
for his own later enjoyment. At one point, he would have sworn he felt her
belly extend itself against his own, almost as if the buried cock were
pushing it outward from within. He stepped away from the suffering victim
and looked down at her daughter. She lay on the floor, her hands still
bound in her back, staring up at her mother's rape with her mouth hanging
open.
'A good education for the little darling,' he thought. 'Perhaps
she will remember this over the next few days.'
Remembering what was waiting for him back at St. Teresa's, he
climbed the steps and returned to the open air. Thinking of Clarice ...
the beautiful young virgin's knees obviously now sore from kneeling for
hours on the hard floor of the chapel ... her wondering in fear about what
awaited her on his return ... and he wondered. 'How many of her younger
sisters would be sent to the convent when they reached her age? They say
that one of them is even more beautiful.'
He strolled own the gravel path, happily humming.
FINIS