Fable

Isolated in the mountains above a tiny village, the two-story stone manor was both austere and foreboding with its narrow barred windows and high-arched heavy iron doors. In the rear of the manor were myriad gardens accessible to visitors from a walled stone walkway leading out from the main hall, except for one garden that a roof-high iron cage guarded completely. Peering inside, guests of the manor could view some of the finest roses gathered by the Lord of the manor for his mistress. They could inhale their fragrance as it wafted through the wrought-iron bars, but could not touch a single fragile petal. The mistress's bedroom opened upon this garden allowing her to tend to her roses in complete safety. His Lordship spent many hours away from his home tending to his trade and visitors to the manor were few.

Standing in the shade of an ancient oak, George stared at the young beauty strolling through the summer garden, entranced by her lithe form and amused by her impertinence as she snapped blossoms off the prized bushes. Her chestnut curls fell at the shoulders of her white satin dress, her pale skin a sharp contrast to her vibrant lips and dazzling green eyes. She flitted about the garden like a crazed hummingbird, pausing only to remove the flowers that offended her. As she bent forward to clip some blossoms near the garden fence, George stared at the iridescent drops of sweat clinging to her bosom. She smiled at him, slowly untied her bodice allowing her pale orbs to hang freely over her corset, and went back to trimming the blossoms from the roses. She glanced up from her work from time to time to smile at her young admirer as he followed her around the garden wall.

When Constance finished her gardening, she scurried inside, closed the door behind her and peered out through her curtains to see if the handsome stranger were still watching from outside her cage. That night, Constance dreamt that George was with her in her boudoir. He wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her close. She felt his hand on her breast as he gently turned her head and embraced her lips in a passionate kiss. He pressed her back against the wall and freed her breasts from her bodice, attacking them with his hungry tongue until each nipple stood at attention. George knelt down and lifted her skirt, sticking his long supple tongue between her legs. He suckled at her little button, making her squirm and moan. He stuck the tip of his tongue deep into her sex and drank her flowing juices. She awoke from her dream with her virginity still intact.

After her usual lunch of bread and broth, Constance spent the late afternoon, sitting near the fence on a curved stone bench. Her breasts dripped sweat onto her corset while she fanned herself with her skirt. Noticing that her young gentleman had returned she leaned toward the fence and whispered loudly, “Please help me; I am a prisoner here.” He bowed politely. “I am a seducer of women and a defiler of virgins,” he teased. “Oh, that you could,” she muttered cryptically. “Then kiss me,” she demanded. “But you don’t know me,” he whispered as he stood near her at the fence. “Kiss me anyway,” she insisted pressing her lips through the bars. His lips embraced her passionately, leaving her breathless when he was through. “That deserves a reward,” she crooned as she headed toward her room. “Tomorrow,” she yelled back before he could ask.

That evening, the handmaiden queried her mistress about a young gentleman seen on the estate grounds. Constance denied any knowledge of him, but her handmaid warned her anyway of the dire consequences of speaking to strangers. Constance assured her that she had not seen him about. The handmaid’s warnings disturbed her dream that night. His appearance in her boudoir was as sudden as it had been the night before but he was far from gentle. George grabbed her, forced her down upon her bed where he ripped open the bodice of her nightdress, and proceeded to assault her breasts. George paused long enough to rip open the rest of her dress before biting into her nipples and forcing his hardened rod between her legs. She awoke again with her bed soaked and her virginity intact.

“But I’ve already seen those,” he protested. George smiled at Constance as she teased him with her breasts, holding them up with her hands and licking her nipples in front of him. He reached through the bars and motioned to her to come closer. She winked as she moved close enough for his hands to touch, then giggled and withdrew. “I want my reward,” George demanded. Constance hesitantly stepped forward and allowed George to caress her silky mounds. He massaged her nipples while slowly drawing her toward the fence. His hands grasped her breasts firmly as they pulled them through. The young man licked a nipple with his tongue, gripped it in his teeth and gently pulled on it. Constance gasped quietly while he gently teased her breast. She gripped the fence tightly, feeling lightheaded when the convulsions began. George smiled at Constance as she regained her equilibrium. “Soon, my love, soon,” he whispered as he left her standing there, her heart beating wildly.

Constance endured her evening meal by thinking of George. Her maidservant repeated her warning about the danger of speaking to strange men and Constance feigned agreement. She hurried through her dinner, anxious to sleep, hoping to dream of her seducer again. Instead, she was restless and took a moonlit walk in the garden. George was there, standing close to the iron cage smiling as she approached. Constance hurried to the spot where he stood and kissed him through the bars. George commanded her to stand upon the wall, directed her where to place each foot, and secured her hands to the cage with silk ties. He raised her skirt and placed his fingers into her hole. He massaged her little button with his thumb until her juices began to flow. He grabbed her ass cheeks and forced her naked sex against the iron bars of the cage. George slipped his face between the bars and hungrily assaulted her mound. Constance begged George for more of him, but he ignored her pleas while driving her deeper into ecstasy with his agile tongue. George left her still needy while he untied her hands kissed her passionately and then ordered her to bed. While Constance slept fitfully dreaming of her lover, George searched the garden fence for a means of entry to her keep. Hidden under a large rose arbor, he found a long forgotten service gate through which the gardeners had brought in the roses. Its lock had rusted from years of neglect, crumbling to dust when he forced it open with his knife. He spent the night sawing through vines, clearing away a small area beneath the arbor, large enough for two, but still sheltered from view.

In the early morning hours, Constance hurried outside searching the shadows eagerly for her erstwhile lover. George peered through the roses at the object of his lust. Her heart skipped a beat when George called to her from his hiding place. She crawled through the thorny vines, and embraced him passionately; while smothering her with kisses, he lowered her to the hard ground. Kneeling over her, he untied her bodice exposing her silky breasts. George grabbed her mounds, gripping them tightly, digging his nails into them while he began to assault her nipples with his teeth, biting gently at first then increasing the pressure until they fully engorged. George pushed up her skirt, spread her legs and attacked her mound, suckling until she was moaning loudly. He slipped his lithe tongue deep into her hole and brought her to the edge of ecstasy. Again, he left her needy as he hurried her off to her morning lessons, swearing her to secrecy about his appearance inside the garden.

Constance scurried back to her room after lunch and slipped out into the garden in search of George, but he was not there. She wandered about the house during the afternoon daydreaming about her paramour. She hardly ate her dinner and retired early to her room. George was waiting for her. He stepped out of the shadows and forced her against the bedroom door while he barred it shut. He ripped open the bodice to her dress and hungrily attacked her nipples. He slipped the dress down off her shoulders to her waist. George took his blade to the dress and cut it free leaving her standing naked before him. Constance bit her lip in anticipation of his next move. George knelt down and fed hungrily at her slit while she braced herself against the door. George grabbed Constance and dragged her out into the garden forcing her to crawl under the rosebushes. He freed his throbbing organ from its pouch and forced open her sopping thighs. Her juices gushed from her hole while he rubbed it against her mound Grabbing her by her shoulders, George stifled her scream with a kiss while his stiff manhood tore through the last of her defenses. Constance dug her nails into his back as her convulsions began, surrendering herself completely to his pleasuring. George drew his knife against her neck cutting a small wound into it, drawing a trickle of blood. He took the wound into his mouth and began the draining of her blood, while he matched her convulsions with his deep strokes. She was too weak to protest as he rode her through the night, draining her lifeblood, relentlessly pursuing his own satisfaction. In the early morning, George was still feeding at her weeping neck, draining the last of her life while still engaged in his lustful pursuit. As the last drop of blood left her oblivious form, he withdrew his pulsating rod and spewed his superfluous fluid over her pale corpse.