
The Duke by Foxbat (mf nc anal flash)


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The Duke by Foxbat (mf nc anal flash)


   "Well, estranged is perhaps not quite the right word.  More like strange.  Theirs was a marriage of political expediency for their parents, which left them stuck with each other.  For her part, I think the Lady has something of an eye for girls.  The Count on the other hand seems to delight in upsetting her, upsetting other women, and upsetting everyone in general.  You ought to be careful with him - before you realize it, you'll be like a piece on his chessboard."

   The Earl of Cunningham reflected for a moment, as if mentally reviewing his description to see if he had left any of the Count of Arundel's flaws out.  His guest, who would be leaving later in the day for Arundel, received the warning with a certain coolness - a sure sign that he had never met the infamous Duke, the Earl thought.

   Not that even a warning would help much.  To the Count, the world was a game laid out for him to play.  People were merely pieces, to be moved around, taken, and eventually discarded.  And to what end?  Sexual gratification, of course, sadistic enjoyment, perverse amusement, perhaps with a little self-aggrandizement thrown in.  Yes, the Earl thought, the Count was quite a character.  It would be interesting to see how the Duke would fare as his guest.

***

   "My dearest sir, it is such a pleasure and honor to have my manor graced by your prescence," said the Count, his black eyes fixing on the Duke, as if the Count were staring into his soul.  The Duke found himself being ushered through the open halls of the Count's manor.  Far out in the countryside, it was tastefully decorated, with a light and breezy feel to it.  With the Count leading the way, they entered a sitting room in the rear of the house with large couches, and larger windows looking out on the lands owned by the Count.  Rich by inheritance like all true gentlemen, the Count owned a manor which stood on the top of a hill, commanding all the land around it by its very prescence.  

   As they sat, the count rang a small bell which had been sitting on one of the side-tables, and almost instantly, a young woman appeared.  Dressed in the uniform of a maid or servent, the Duke could sense the fear in her from her movement and her darting downcast eyes.

   "Something cool for my friend and I, if you please," the Count said dismissively, turning back to the Duke, as the girl bustled out of the room just as suddenly as she had appeared.  "She was one of my favorites, until that fucking wench I'm married to found out.  My wife managed to grab her when I wasn't looking and she's been servicing the farm dogs for the last week.  By the time I found her, she was too stretched out to be much fun anymore.  My cunt of a wife even let the dogs have her arse, so I can't even use that.  A real shame, you know.  She'd been quite good."  

   The Count looked off into space wistfully, his face showing personal loss - not pity or empathy for the girl. For his part, the Duke, unused to hearing of such things, or hearing such things so plainly spoken of, had something of a look of shock.

   "Could you not ask her to refrain from such pranks?" he asked.  

   The Count smiled at his guest.  "I suppose I could, but I doubt it would do much good.  Besides, if she were to take me seriously in my request, I'd have to refrain from such things myself, and cutting the tongue out of her favorite serving girl in retaliation was most definitely worth the loss of Linda's services."  Again, the Count stared off into the distance, as if he was preoccupied by matters other than those of the current circumstance.  

   The Duke tried to imagine the gentleman sitting across from him with a pliers and knife, removing the tongue of a girl.  He shuddered in horror, but felt the need to say something back nonetheless.  "You wife's favorite serving girl?" he repeated for lack of any better rejoinder.

   "Yes, you see she's a bit sapphic you might say.  You know, like Sapphos of Lesbos?  She prefers the company of young girls, much like I do."  The evil grin had returned to the Count's face.  "Except she's much nicer to them than I am.  I figured that removing her girl's tongue made her about as useless to my wife as a maid with stretched holes is to me.  Wouldn't you agree?"

   Under the intensity of the Count's gaze, the Duke found himself nodding.  So this must be what Cunningham was referring to, he decided, although further thought was interrupted by the return of the serving girl.  Nervously, and avoiding the glances of the Duke, she placed a tray with their drinks down on one of the end tables.  No sooner had she turned to leave, however, than the Count sprang up and, grabbing her by her hair, spun her around to face him.  Before she could react, he unceremoniously pushed her head down, trapping it between his thighs.  Hoisting her skirts up, he pried open her posterior to display her gaping vaginal and anal orifices to his guest.  "You see what I mean?" the Count asked, "A man could get lost in there."

   Releasing her, the Count sat back down, enjoying the look on the face of his guest.  He lived for that expression of shock and disgust he was now receiving, and felt somewhat proud of himself for having achieved it so soon.

   Disgust and shock soon turned to a look of mildly revolted confusion.  "You obviously can't get your marriage annulled, but you could send your wife off to live somewhere else and leaving you free to pursue whichever girl you fancy, yes?" the Duke asked.

   "Of course, but its so much more fun to torment that little strumpet.  She's not much fun to bed normally, but its quite exhilarating to give her a whirl once in a while when she's not expecting it.  She particularly hates it when I do her arse, so I haven't touched her anywhere else in over a year.  Sometimes I suspect that randy little slut gets off even on that though."  The Count paused briefly, as if to consider freshly this problem.  "I'm being rude, however.  Let me show you to your quarters."

   With that, he stood suddenly - his bearing erect and aristocratic - and strode back out into the hallway.  He spoke as he walked, "Feel free to avail yourself of any of my hired help.  They all expect it, although some may put up more of a fight for your enjoyment than others."

   After walking some distance, the Count turned off into a large room with a large bed in the center.  Turning to the Duke, he informed him that his bags would be brought here by the servants.  The sun was setting, so the Count was about to excuse himself for the night, when he noticed that the Duke was no longer looking at him.  Catching motion in a mirror hung on the opposite wall, the Count saw a brief glimpse of white, as the Duke looked back at him.

   With almost inhuman speed, the Count spun and shot into the hall.  Half a second later, the Duke heard a feminine scream followed by pleading mewling.  Venturing out into the hall, the Duke saw the Count standing there with pleased look across his face.  At his feet lay the woman in white whom he'd seen earlier.  The Count had one foot on the side of her head, holding her down, and preventing her from escaping.

   "It is my honor to introduce you to the Lady Arundel," the Count proclaimed, indicating, with a flourish, the woman at his feet.  Without waiting for a response from the Duke, the Count reached down, and lifted her dress at the same time has he dropped his own trousers.  A moment later, the Count had thrust himself into his wife, who commenced screaming and squealing like a stuck pig. Using her hair to jerk her head around, the Count easily slapped away her attempts defend herself.  

   Stunned by the sodomy taking place in front of him, the Duke simply stood there, watching, his mouth slack.  Surely, he had thought, the Earl had been exaggerating when he described the Count's depravities.  Surely, he didn't dislike his wife that much.  Surely...

   "Would you like to take her for a spin, now that I've gotten her warmed up?"  The Count interrupted the Duke's thoughts.  Looking down, he saw that the woman had degenerated into sobbing, her anus almost as distended as that of the serving girl.

   "No, but thank you," the Duke said, once again for lack of anything better.  The Count simply shrugged, and began impaling the woman again, slapping her breasts and pinching her nipples, which elicited fresh screaming.  The Duke turned, and retreated into his bed chamber in shock.


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