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 Memoirs of Armand Basteraud: 1 - Jean Claude
   By Romany
   (Historical, M/b, oral)
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This is a fictional story involving the sexual situations between minors
and an adult man, and consenting adults.  If this subject offends you,
close this page NOW!  If you choose to read on you must be 18 years or
older.  If you are not LEAVE!!!
   Any similarities to any person living or dead are purely coincidental.
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   The Journey Begins
   Armand looked at the boy.  The light blue suit of crushed velvet was too
small and ill fitting.  But it was clearly all the orphanage could do to
clothe him in a style befitting of his recently discovered heritage. 
Twelve years of age, he had been a resident of the church based orphanage
and by all accounts, one of Father Lucious' favorites.  Trained well Armand
would wager.  He had come from an orphanage himself, but not with the
sinister undertones of Father Lucious' control.  Armand had enjoyed
numerous debauched evenings arranged by Father Lucious.  Evenings where the
star attractions were selected from children in the good father's care. 
And all trained well in obedience and submission.  The coach jumped as it
hit a stone and the boy sat up quickly, jolted from his doze by the
lurching of the coach that his newly discovered aunt had sent for his
collection; to join her as her only surviving blood relative.  Discovered
by chance, as the bastard son of her late younger sister.
   Armand chuckled.
   "You've not ridden in a coach on the open road before, have you?" he
said amiably looking at the handsome boy.
   Jean-Claude pulled a sheepish face and nodded; embarrassed he had not
done much in his young life, save from work and toil at the orphanage.  And
then of course there were the special skills he had been painstakingly taut
by the good Father Lucious since arriving there as a naive eight year old.
The boy looked out the window of the coach as it bumped along.  His mind a
whirl of confusion and muted excitement at learning he had a relative.  A
rich aunt who lived on a grand estate some distance from Paris where he had
been in the orphanage.  And this coach had been sent to collect him.  And
this striking man engaged to act as his guide and protector on the long
journey of almost two days.  Armand studied the boy as he sat on the edge
of the seat opposite.  He was quite tall and slim and his face could almost
be the face of a girl, being as it was framed with shoulder length thick
blond hair.  Armand licked his lips absent-mindedly as he regarded the boy.
No doubt skilled in pleasuring of men, and perhaps women.  He felt a slight
stir in his breaches.  He was interested in the young following his time
spent in the King's service; having learned the delights of skilled young
boys and girls in Cairo and Tunisia.  The target of his sexual conquests
shifted rapidly from adult women, to preteen or pubescent boys or girls, as
his hunger for the young developed.  It was also helped avoid the danger of
pox from the base trollops he and his comrades usually sort out when on
assignment.  He had learned that a willing boy was equally pleasurable to
him as a compliant young girl.  His cock began to swell slowly as he sat
regarding this boy entrusted to his care as a sexual being, despite his
age. They were barely two hours into their journey and now beyond the outer
edge of greater Paris.  He licked his lips involuntarily and shifted on the
seat to allow more room in his breaches for his expanding cock to feel less
constricted.
   "How long were you with Father Lucious?" Armand asked carefully, raising
his eyebrows to emphasize he was referring to the good Father's debauched
sideline with his charges.
   Jean-Claude turned to look at Armand.  His expression open and not at
all fazed by the hidden implication in the man's question.
   "Since I was eight...or nine...I'm not sure how old I was," he answered
candidly.
   "I am told you became one of Father Lucious' favorites," Armand said
equally candidly now he saw the boy had no embarrassment knowing what
Armand's question had really meant.
   "I was," the boy replied easily.
   "And did the good father see to it you got out and about a little?"
Armand said, his eyes narrowing slightly; boring into the boy's face.
   "Sometimes...not always," Jean-Claude replied.  "But sometimes...we went
to...um...parties," he replied, reddening a little.
   "Was there just you, or were there others with you...other orphans?"
Armand said quizzically.
   "I was hardly alone," Jean-Claude replied.  Only on special occasions
was I on my own...with Father Lucious of course," he answered.
   "Aaah...you were seen as special then," Armand said understanding Father
Lucious did not offer this boy out frivolously for open debauched evenings
with the collection of nobles and gentry; who subscribed to Father Lucious'
special service.
   Jean-Claude nodded with an impish grin.
   "You'd best come over here and show me how expert you are then," Armand
said slyly and he slowly broke open the flap of his breaches and pulled his
now hard cock into view.
   Jean-Claude gulped and then glanced at Armand and back at the big cock
waving around in the cool air of the coach.
   "Come me hearty lad...show me how well you can suck a man's cock,"
Armand said in a low tone; almost a growl.
   Jean-Claude licked his lips involuntarily and stooped to kneel on one
knee and regarded the big cock; the foreskin forced back by the thickness
of the erection, engorged with blood from the man's excitement.  The boy
rubbed his hands firmly together.  This was a trick he had been taught to
warm his hands quickly so they were not cold to the touch of the fleshy
sword.  Satisfied his hands were suitably warmed by friction, he reached
one to the cock and felt it.  He gasped at how hard it felt.  No stranger
to men's cock's he realized this man's cock was unique.  A class above the
flaccid cocks of overweight noblemen and foppish dandies.  Only Father
Lucious' member came close to this.  With a light sob of joy he lowered his
mouth over the big knob and settled into the age-old ritual he had been
tutored in by his last protector.  Jean-Claude sucked Armand cock
fervently. Genuinely enjoying the feel of it in his hand and mouth.  The
dull odor of the mans crotch permeating his nostrils.  His own small cock
hardened as he sucked the cock.  He sighed, the noise coming from his nose
as a hiss and a low groan in his larynx.  He was born to this, he was sure.
Surely these days must soon be behind him.  With that slight pang of
anxiety his days pleasuring men, and enjoying it for himself, were soon to
be behind him, Jean-Claude set about making this the best job of sucking a
gentleman yet.
   Armand sat back and enjoyed the boy's expert mouth and hand.  Several
times he was nearer to cumming and each time he slowed the boy; on one
occasion he had to break the boy's mouth and stay his hand, he was so
close.
   "You are all Father Lucious described to my friend Roget," Armand said
with a sly smile.  "The perfect cock sucker."
   The boy blushed hearing this praise.  When Armand's passion had waned a
little, he nudged the boy's head and Jean-Claude went down on the big cock
and returned to the combination of stroking and sucking and swirling his
tongue.  Eventually Armand realized one more arresting of the impending
orgasm would see him slither over the climax and ruin the quality of the
sucking, he let his orgasm rise and grabbing the boy by the head with both
hands, he began thrusting his hips urgently at Jean-Jean-Claude's face. 
The boy staggered with this the change in the control of the sucking to the
man, and placing a hand on each of the man's spread knees for stability, he
allowed his head to be held as Armand fucked himself to a glorious noisy
release; filling the boy's mouth with a flood of thick semen.  His balls
overflowing because of a lean stretch he was going through for sex.  The
boy held his position stoically as he had been taught and his throat
muscles and tongue worked feverously to sluice the cum from his mouth and
down his gullet.  He was a pro; an expert.  Armand emptied his balls into
the boy and Jean-Claude never lost a drop of the dusky smelling semen
coursing down his throat.
   When Armand finally finished and a rush of fatigue came over him, he
sighed and chuckled, "what a great suck" and dropped his arms heavily
beside him.
   Instead of pulling off the cock immediately, Jean-Claude held his lips
clamped around the still hard organ and for a couple of minutes, he swirled
the head lazily with his tongue, eventually taking the cock in hand and
rubbing it against his face.  He romanced the cock with hand and his face
and lips as if it were a delicate flower; all the while looking up at the
man with a look of satisfaction and gratitude.  Armand studied the boy's
actions and realized just how far he had been indoctrinated into serving
men this way.  Would this boy ever become a man that could welcome covering
women, or would he be the plaything of any sodomite who came through his
life?  The boy was about to go into a culture shock where a whole new world
he could never dreamed of being part of, was about to be opened up to him.
How would he cope?
   "Are you a good fuck Jean-Claude?" Armand said lazily, regarding the boy
enjoying his subjugation.
   "I am told I am," the boy replied and enveloped the cock head with his
lips in a teasing gesture.
   Armand looked around the interior of the coach.  It was perfunctory not
lavish.  There were only small flasks of water and some breadsticks, cheese
and tomatoes in a small food recess.  Nothing that could serve as any sort
of lubrication that he would need to get his prong into this boy's
practiced arse.  Fucking him would have to wait until the stopped their
journey at an inn already identified to provide them rest this coming
evening.
   "Then I will find out for myself tonight...when we break our journey,"
Armand said with a sly smile.
   The boy showed his understanding with a broad mawkish smile and sucked
the slowly softening cock; trying to suck it back to life.
   "You can rest a little my beautiful young cock sucker," Armand chuckled,
realizing what the boy was trying to do.  "Rest now and I will let you play
with it again...maybe more than once before we get to the inn.  But I don't
want to be too spent that I can't give you a good fucking tonight," he
laughed and ruffled the boy's hair.
   Jean-Claude grinned at the man and reluctantly eased up and sat back on
the seat opposite his protector.  He said nothing; just sat with a broad
grin on his face.  This wasn't so bad after all.  The anxiety of the
unknown at the end of his journey now diluted with the enjoyment of the
known and what he was most familiar with.  This would be a good journey at
least.
   End of part 1...to be continued;
   (C) Romany 2009.  Protected by copyright law.
   Do not copy, edit, or post this on any website without the author's
permission.
   Read 'Memoirs of Armand Basteraud : 2 Charmaine' and more stories by
Romany at https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/gypsey/romany/
   
  
Memoirs of Armand Basteraud 1