Helena Robertson - Mousse

“Was it hurting you?”

“Not when he stopped. I just felt that my hole was widened. It hurt a little, but most of all, I was scared.”

“And after?”

“He waited a moment, and remained motionless, while caressing my breasts and under my belly, my slit with his fingers; then little by little, he moved his thing in my belly slowly at first then faster and faster. I was hurt at first but then as he caressed me at the same time, I felt better. I was not contracted anymore and I was less scared. Then it stopped hurting, and he moved in me as I had seen him do in Nadine's belly. I heard him sighing, gasping on my back, and suddenly, deeply in me, he stopped…”

“After?”

“After he stopped, he put me on my back and caressed my slit and sucked at my little button till I had pleasure. When it was all over, he sent me away and told me to grow fast so that he could take my virginity and make me become a real woman.”

“And since?”

“And since yesterday, nothing happened with me. I hear Solange crying this morning in her room and Uncle came down with his cat o'nine tails, but Solange refused to tell me anything. Tonight as we are expecting guests, I was told to go to bed early. This afternoon Uncle is working in the attic; I do not know at what, he has ropes with him.”

“Try to know,” said Monique, guessing that soon something new would happen.

“I will try. But I am scared of mice!”

Monique burst out laughing and soon fell in voluptuousness under young Janine's tongue. The child's head was deeply dug between the two magnificent tanned and widely open thighs. Soon after that, they left the place, and separated, deciding to meet the next day.

Monique, with one sudden move of her rear, separated from the man, feeling the wet and slippery rod slide out of her guts. She had been taken four times, and was mad because not only had she received no pleasure from that embrace, but she was hurt, as he had been brutal. She silently dressed and went out, draped in her black cape, in front of an annoyed Max.

The fresh air calmed and eased her mood. She was angry at Max for not being able to moderate his appetite and his guests' appetites. And besides that she felt no pleasure at the same old mirror game that was only a forward to the complete sodomization of her being.

She went back to Sonia and slept miserably. The day went slowly. She did not go swimming, and refused to let little Jacques caress her belly. She met Janine at the same place in the woods and a long embrace had them rolling under the pine trees in the dunes. Monique gave herself completely under the child's caress. When the haze of pleasure that dimmed her vision and blurred the trees and the landscape around her had faded, she stretched and, while she was caressing her breasts, asked Janine to tell her about the past evening at her Uncle's.

When coming home, Janine took advantage of her uncle being in the garden, to go in the attic. It was a huge room under the roof that covered the house's whole surface. It had huge timbers, and ropes were hanging from the ceiling-she could not at once understand why. The only light was given by some candles here and there, and also a couple of oil lamps. In one corner of the room there was a kind of closet, the door of which was made of disjointed panels. She looked inside, and decided that that would be the ideal spot to go at the proper time.

She also noticed a few chairs, a chest of drawers, and on an old table, whips of different types and shapes, and also leather belts, and tweezers, needles and many other torture instruments.

Janine went down for dinner. It was a quiet evening. Janine learned that Solange was going to spend the evening and then the night at some friends of Barral, under the pretense of helping them. She left around eight or nine o'clock and Barral sent Janine to bed. Time passed, the night was really a dark one; the young kid did not want to sleep and the whole house was silent.

Then the noise of a car. Janine heard Barral locking her in. Quickly she put on her nightdress and went by the balcony into Barral's room and from there into the attic.

The lit oil lamps were giving a strange glow to the room and to the things in it. Janine shivered, but she struggled against her fears and went and hid herself in the little closet. She put on her slippers, waiting for the mice. Her heart was beating like a drum.

She heard the car stop, then hoarse voices; some sighs, and cries, then footsteps in the corridor. Then through the opened door came Barral, dressed in a dark brown frock, then two peasants in Sunday clothes, with a white carnation at each of their buttonholes. They were holding a young bride, all in white, who was struggling against them. But Janine soon saw that she was tipsy and that she could not really defend herself.

“No, No, I do not want it. NO… are you out of your mind? NO…”

Behind them came a fat and red-faced monk. Barral locked the door.

The men pulled the girl along one of the pillars. Barral took a supple stick and came before her: She looked at him, frightened; the monk came closer and told her:

“Now, now, my child, you will have to become more obedient. Your husband, completely loaded, proved himself quite unable to fulfill the duties that he had to fulfill, and also showed that he did not deserve you, as he is now completely asleep. You had, yourself, by your-let us say-original behavior, some attitudes that are not to be taken or accepted by he who admits you among the pure and holy young brides. Thus you will have to repent and confess completely. My friend here, agreed to replace your absent husband, and transform you into a real woman. You must now accept that he does what he has to do with all the experience and refinement that is required.”

“But, first of all, come here, and confess all your sins.”

He moved his stool closer to her and sat down.

The young bride was looking at him in complete amazement. “No, not here. No, I do not want to, not in front of them.” He drew her close to him, but she struggled against him.

The monk got up, took a supple stick, and told her: “If within thirty seconds, you are not here, kneeling prostrate, I will be sorry to have to chastise you as you deserve on your bare buttocks.”

The bride looked at all the men, one by one, around her. She remained silent and put her hands on her white dress. She shook her head in refusal. At a given signal, two men got hold of her hands and lifted her dress from behind higher than the belt. She had a relatively plump behind, that was molded in a pair of white silk panties. Barral hurried to roll the pants down her thighs. She was wearing white silk stockings.

The monk raised his hand, and with a cutting noise, the stick landed on the rotund globes, five times in a row, leaving big red marks on the soft flesh. At each blow the bride's body twisted under the pain, and she hollered like an injured animal. After the fifth stroke, the monk stopped and said: “Now Suzanne, are you consenting, or must I go on with the punishment?”

“Ah, no, please do not hurt me anymore, I hurt too much, leave me alone…”

“I ask you to answer my question-are you ready to confess your sins?”

From the tip of the stick he caressed the bare flesh, she shivered.

“Yes, yes, enough, do not hurt me any more!”

The monk gave Barral a sign. He put the material of her dress in the belt of the skirt, revealing the strong behind with its twin pulpy globes, separated by a deep slit. The fleshy thighs were emerging from the lily white dress, their pink shades contrasted against the immaculate material of the bridal attire. They placed the bride in front of a stool, bending her forwards, and tied her hands with lashes.