Helena Robertson - Mousse

“I hope that you like it all the same?”

“When those bastards will have taken their pleasure out of her, I will take her virginity.”

The monk laughed.

“Later, we will try to bring her here again under some other pretense.”

“Are you sure of the silence of the guys?”

“Oh yes, quite sure, they often come to the rectory to play with my maid without their wives knowing it. I have them at my disposal.”

“And what about the husband.” If he wakes up?”

“No danger. It was a good dose. Tomorrow, when he wakes up, he will think that he fucked his sweet wife all night long.”

“But her… what if she complains?”

“She would not dare, it would be too shameful for her to say that she agreed to leave him on such an evening.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the continuous lament of the young bride, being assfucked by yet another peasant. “Come, let's watch that,” said the monk.

He walked to the mirror with Barral, and they contemplated the heavy thick prick that the bride's belly was swallowing. The hole was completely distended under the size of the dart. Under the vacillating light of the oil lamps, the tableau had a strange, deeply lubric allure. The girl was moaning, sustained by the plougher's powerful hands, but it was nearly an inert flesh that he was dominating. The belly was slapping against her ass, and one could hear the damp noise of the piston sliding in and out of the painfully distended sheath.

Soon the man sighed and stopped. The silence impressed the men, excited by that savage possession. The man disimpaled the girl, and she had to be held. Then she was placed on her back on the bench.

The monk came by.

“Let me go. Leave me alone, I hurt too much. No more.”

“Hush little girl. Now you will be rewarded, you will become a complete woman.”

Two men held her arms as if she was crucified, and her breasts, reddened by the cat o'nine tails, point arrogantly from her chest. Barral takes the girl's knees, folds the legs till the knees touch the belly, and then he takes the legs apart. He contemplates that pink virgin cunt, around which the blows left some tiny red marks.

He bends down, his erected prick posed against the slit; the head slides between the thick lips, and stops against the closed hymen. Without pushing, Barral caresses the flesh softly and for a long time. The girl, exhausted does not react; she stays there, her eyes closed, mouth agape. She sighs deeply, and little by little the sighs change tone. Barral guesses that the intense excitation given by the flagellation of her sensitive flesh is bringing the girl off. Barral feels his prick, while turning in direction in the cunt. The hymen is tensed, distended and suddenly opens. The raped girl utters a pitiful cry and tries to escape from the male's embrace, in vain. The other men are nailing her to the bench, and inexorably the prick goes deeper and deeper in her cunt and only stops when it reaches the bottom of the vagina.

Barral rests a little, slowly caressing the bride's breasts. She looks like a wounded bird in her white veil. Then slowly he fucks her, his teeth clenched, his eyes closed.

They are all looking at the love act. The prick is going in and out of the cunt, covered with blood, but also with the girl's come juices.

Barral is now glued to her, bites at her half-opened lips, slides his tongue in her mouth and inhales her warm breath. And with powerful movements of his loins he digs his prick in the burning cunt.

The wide open eyes of the woman are now reflecting a strange impression. They widen and Barral thinks that it is desire. He sucks the tongue that does not refuse his kiss. He feels the white silk stockings against his sides; he guesses that after all that display of intense voluptuousness, he will be the first to really create pleasure in that body, her first womanly pleasure. He wants her all and completely. After the brutal possession comes the most refined caresses. He does not move completely out of her, so that her bruised flesh would not suffer more from the contact. His prick is now deeply in her cunt, and he fucks with all his strength. He is completely in her, and what could not be avoided happens. She gives herself completely. He orders the men to free her arms, and she grabs him by the neck, encircles his shoulders, her body arched, her belly tensed, glued to the man's belly, and the orgasm comes. Half conscious, she bites Barral's lips. Then, mad with pleasure, she hollers her joy and lets her arms fall from each side of the bench while the man lets the sperm go in her, in hot long splurts…

Barral takes a look at his guests, gets up and removes his softened and soggy prick out of the vagina. Already another man covers the girl with his body. She tries to scratch his face but she is maintained by the others, and the peasant stops her cries with his thick lips. He fucks her with the power of his short but thick phallus, tearing a little bit more the painful passage. He breathes heavily, he rattles, and the girl, unable to defend herself, must let the sperm overflow her cunt.

Another cry-her eyes wide open and contemplating the huge tool coming between her thighs, and the third peasant is fucking her too. He is in her, and moves slowly; in spite of her disgust he feels pleasure coming and she gives herself to that male. But he is selfish, and he comes before she could be satisfied, and once again the hot and greasy substance is in her. He moves out, leaving her disappointed.

She remains there, thighs open, from her sex sperm is drooling, mixed with blood.

But he gets excited again. The others, exhausted by their libations, are yawning on their chairs, their big hands resting on their knees. Barral takes the girl to the bench, lies on his back, and obliges her to straddle him. He forces her to impale herself on his prick. One little cry, and the girl is glued to him. He gives the monk a signal; the latter, understanding what he is expected to do, straddles Barral's thighs, and also the bench, and aims at the offered asshole. One more sigh, and the girl feels the monk's belly glued to her ass.

Under the double penetration she sighs softly. But this time it is from pleasure. The flesh shivers, the hands caress either the breasts or the belly. The moans of the girl are almost immediately stopped by Barral's mouth. And under the yellow light of the oil lamps, comes the love song of the over-satisfied woman.

The three remained motionless, crumpled over each other. Then the monk moves out of the ass. The girl gets up, and the flattened prick falls softly on Barral's balls. Barral gets up and caresses the warm and still hurting breasts.

The girl smiles and her marked eyes are a testimony of the violence of the assaults that she has just endured. She wants to go and wash, but Barral holds her.

“No, not now, not yet. You are my wife, and you are going to keep my seed in you.” And he kisses her.

He obliges her to dress again. And again she becomes the young bride that she was a few hours earlier. Before she puts her panties on, they asked her to make some provocative poses, displaying her cunt and her ass, her legs propped up. Then at last, all of them being dressed again, they go down.

Janine, behind them, goes back to her room, her finger slippery with her own come juice from the many masturbations that she enjoyed in front of all those exciting postures.

Monique was listening passionately to this account. She abandons her body to Janine's lips, and three times in a row she comes furiously under the child's caress.

They were late for dinner. They took a date for the next day, in their little love nest after the bath…

Monique, quite exhausted, went to bed early, but could not sleep well. She dreamed all night about whipped brides, raped and sodomized women, white veils symbolically covering half naked bodies…