The Countess - Part Three

I am speaking of course as I imagine, or rather vaguely recall, that I thought and felt then. My true nature has since been revealed to me but at that time it lay buried, suppressed by custom and convention and had been shewn only in brief flashes of imprudence.

Whatever the impetus truly was that evening, whether naïve playfulness or the surfacing of my inner daemon, I crushed all conscience and recklessly pursued the one who I sensed held the answer. I do not believe that I sought remedy though my urgent need for gratification still burned in my veins. No, it was surely that what had been awoken in me was answering a call that could not be gainsaid.

With terror and excitement vying for ascendancy in me I opened the door to her rooms and closed it softly behind me. My heart was beating so fast I think I was panting a little. La Comtesse was sitting in a high-backed chair reading by the light of several candles set into an ornate candelabrum that stood on a small table beside her. The only other light in the room came from a similar display on a tall pedestal placed close to the head of the canopied bed.

For several moments she continued reading and I was able to study her across the chamber. She was wearing no shoes and I saw that she had surprisingly small and delicate feet for one so tall. She was wearing again the red, low-cut gown that clung closely to her figure and drew attention to the breasts that rose and fell as she breathed. Her magnificent glossy black hair hid her face as she closed her book and turned to place it upon the table.

She raised her head and the light glinted in her eyes. The flash of piercing violet seemed to spear me and I lowered my eyes in sudden trepidation. There was a dangerous intenseness in the way she looked at me that communicated jeopardy. I shivered. It was as if she was assessing me and I felt overawed and, well … intimidated. But it wasn’t just that, it was undeniably thrilling too and the shiver turned into a fluttering inside.

She walked towards me and every step was somehow ominous.

“You are trembling, child,” she said to me.

“I’m … I’m sorry,” I stammered, feeling foolish and entirely childlike in comparison to her poise and sophistication.

“There is no need to be sorry. All you need be is willing. You have come to me and that is as it should be.” She lifted my head and looked directly into my eyes. I stood transfixed; unable to move. I had come here knowingly but any will I once had was being remorselessly stripped from me by her eyes. I would be entirely hers; she had always known it and now I did too.

Gently she touched my mouth with her long, crimson fingernails and my lips parted. I yearned for her to kiss me again and would have said so but I was unable to speak. Her touch was light and soft and I luxuriated in the feel of her fingers as she traced the features on my face.

When her hands moved to my neck and then to my bare shoulders, I think I stopped breathing for a moment for her touch was electrifying. Slowly, she ran her hands down my sides and undid the ties and hooks of my skirts. When they were unfastened, she allowed the top-skirt and petticoats to fall slowly to the floor.

Underneath I had only a pair of loose-fitting, cream-coloured camiknickers and white silk stockings held up by red garters. A faint smile touched her lips and I found myself praying it was one of approval for I had deliberately under-dressed in order to please her.

She said nothing though and concentrated instead on my bodice. Her arms stole around my slender frame and, without touching me, she began to untie the bow at my back. When she had loosed it, the bodice relaxed its austere grip but though I was now able to respire more freely, her disrobing of me caused such arousal that my breath remained quick and shallow.

I could feel her hands steadily pulling at the cords that held the bodice together and I wanted to raise my arms to aid her but strangely they stayed stubbornly at my sides, as though following her unspoken order. I felt the strands running through the eyes until the garment released its hold altogether and it slid down my body to join the skirts already abandoned round my feet.

My breasts, freed from their restriction, stood out proudly though the nipples, dusky pink against my pale skin, seemed lamentably lifeless. A slight frown marred La Comtesse’s beautiful features for a moment but I had already learned that her demands could not be denied, even though the flesh was that of another. I looked on, thrilled to my very core, as her fingernails, red as blood, wove erotic magic on my delicate flesh. My nipples reddened, hardened and grew erect. I felt an ache of desire fill them and I gasped.

Her frown had disappeared as quickly as it had arisen and now she was smiling faintly as she delicately untied the thin ribbon that held up my knickers. When they too slipped silkily to the floor, I felt a rush of liquid deliciousness fill me which forced a moan of pleasure to escape my lips.

‘Take me,’ I screamed but the voice was only in my head. My eyes though pleaded eloquently. Nevertheless, my capitulation was not yet complete enough for her. She would demand more.

She looked at me and my heart skipped a beat when I realised she was relishing the sight of my naked body. Her eyes fell to the golden patch at my groin and I felt again that flow inside me.

Then she handed to me four lines of black silken rope, each with a loop tied into one end. I instinctively knew what was commanded and the realisation woke my limbs from their paralysis.

I stepped out from the puddle of clothes at my feet and, kicking off my shoes, encircled each ankle with a loop of rope. I then did the same to my wrists and let my arms fall to my sides. The ropes trailed down to my knees, mute testimony to my submission.

Only then did she smile fully and show me the true nature of the ravishment she intended. I held my breath as she began to undo the tiny buttons that ran down the front of her gown. When all were undone she let it fall to the floor where it settled, lying atop my discarded clothing as if it were a metaphor of what was to come.

She stood silently in front of me for several minutes and allowed, no … encouraged, me to admire her body. I understood that this was just another phase in the seduction and my certain surrender; she was tantalising and teasing my desire for her to new heights.

There was not very much further for me to go. I’d wanted to feel her kisses and the touch of her fingers since I first saw her. Now she had brought me to such a pitch that the very thought of being bound naked to her bed had aroused me to the edge of sweet orgasm.

Still she stood there.

Candlelight framed her glossy hair and sparkled on her skin. Her shadow fell upon me and in my mind’s eye I could see her olive-toned body draped across my paler image, exploring me with skilful fingers and eager tongue.

And still she stood there

I gazed at her beautiful breasts, the nipples hard and erect, and I imagined taking each of them into my mouth and hearing her moan with pleasure.

And yet, still she stood there.

Did she require adoration? I’d have gladly worshipped her for just a brief kiss.

I waited knowing that something more was expected of me but knowing not what it was. Suddenly my need for her overflowed and I comprehended.

I raised my hands to my neck and undid the gold cross that my beloved father had given to me when I was young. I let it fall to the floor along with all the other trappings of respectability and modesty I had already let go. Thus, I truly abandoned my past and my previous self and placed my life into her hands. She could make of me what she willed.

The look in her eyes released me from my trance and I walked to the bed and lay upon it. My heart was beating fast and my breathing betrayed my excitement. I watched her as she bound my ankles and wrists to the bedposts. All her movements were gentle and graceful but when she had finished I was splayed out and unable to move at all.

First she kissed me on the lips and I felt like I was melting inside. I closed my eyes and floated away in bliss. Her fingers began to draw intricate patterns on my body as the kiss continued and the orgasm that had lingered just out of reach since her first touch flowed over me in an irresistible surge. But this was not climax for it persisted, advancing and retreating like gentle waves on a shoreline. With each swell I moaned in ecstasy and as it ebbed, I fought for new breath to sigh my need.

She played with me like a virtuosa. Every touch brought forth new and heavenly melodies. When long fingers entered and explored the core of my femininity, my muscles tightened as if trying to claim them for my own pleasure. But I was so wet with arousal that the fingers slipped in and out in a silky rhapsody.

I know not for how long she indulged me but when she at last looked into my eyes, she would have seen only desire and willingness in their depths. Her own eyes seemed like caverns of darkness and I lost myself in them as she bared her teeth and exposed the long white canines that would make me wholly hers.

My back arched in both sudden pain but also rapture as the teeth penetrated the delicate skin of my left breast. When she began to draw my blood from the wound she had caused, I discovered what true climax is. My body shuddered and I felt like every nerve and sinew had been ignited.

Only gradually did my eyes unclench from this paroxysm and I looked on in a kind of hypnotic fascination as my blood welled up and ran in two slow lines down my breast. La Comtesse, now my adored mistress, stared back at me with those dark fathomless eyes as she licked at the red rivulets she had conjured. The sight, which should have made me recoil in horror, seemed instead to be wickedly delightful.

I remember no more of that night for, as the waves of passion ebbed away, I drifted off into a deep sleep. In the early hours of the morning though, I found myself in my own bed and suffering a slumber that became increasingly troubled by a strange and recurrent dream. In it, I saw myself as a small child, seemingly alone in a luxuriously furnished room. My dream self was wandering the chamber in a bemused state, tentatively touching the many paintings, small statues and ornaments that abounded there. On every occasion, the dream ended abruptly just as I laid my fingers on the handle of an intricately carved door and began to turn it.