Memoires of the Marquis d'Amour - 6

6 - Titillation

I still enjoyed frequent intimate encounters with Justine or Juliette, but my sole devotion I tendered on the mystic Colette, which I thought provided me with brand new inspiration and burning fresh fantasies. As the oldest maid she was now obliged to serve me. She brought my morning tea on time every day, looked desirable with her long silky black hair open, the blue maiden skirt not even reaching the middle of her long slim legs. As often I had a chance I stroked the velvet olive skin of her thighs and was astonished that she now wore the comfortable bloomers instead of the tight knickers. But unrestricted access to her hidden secrets was denied to me constantly. I got a little frustrated and thought feverishly about a possibility to uncover her sex and to satisfy my steadily growing curiosity.
Soon my patience was exhausted - I mixed a fair amount of laudanum into a rare pineapple cordial from Italy and managed to convince my victim to taste it, and she greedy as she was tempered, she consumed it all. After ten minutes she got tired of my boring lectures about arrow-shooting cupids and plump naked cherubs, and she dozed into a deep c*** induced by power the ancient and natural remedy. First I inspected the almost invisible bosom, but all I found under the silk was two coffee brown nipples the size of a cherry pip. But the sheer size of the supporting puddings fitted my fancies perfectly.
I threw the blue skirt up over her belly, pulled her bloomers down - and there it was: a precise replica of Joseph's lovely dickel, just a few times smaller, sl**ping curled up in a dense forest of jet-black curls! As I opened Colette's legs further I found no signs of a scrotum but a scarce farce of a cunny - and through my closer exploration a well developed deep brown anus that was surely abused indecently in the past. The miniature penis reared under my touch in a funny bent way, constant hiding in tight panties resulted surely to the crook. But it finally extended into a long thin wick not displeasing to the eye and quite handsome to the touch. It wasn't circumcised but I was able to squeeze the tiny coffe-brown olive from its wrinkled covers. The abnormally tiny but in no way deformed dickel then suddenly spat at me like a venomous snake - just a few drops as clear as morning dew!
I understood the problem at hand. This girl was let down cruelly by nature and now even abandoned by her parents. And I was pondering my options in my swivel chair with my chin in hands at the desk, the decided that gentleness in this case would provide the best results. I meditated about the silly jokes of nature and the indifference of human beings to accept them and to embrace every variance as unique. Silently I dressed the sl**ping ladyboy up, leaving no other trace about my secret investigations than his own spendings on her own belly.
When Colette came about and opened her raven eyes, her hand intuitively reached into her groin, she shot up and fixed me into her dark black stare, throwing unspoken accusations towards my way. I got up at least, filled a glass with cool water from the urn and sat down next to her on the couch. As she greedily swallowed the refreshing drink I explained to her, that I was completely guilty of detecting her secret, but was now in a much better situation to understand her hatred and to comply to her specific needs! If she would like to punish me for my and all other males for their cruelty and cowardliness she would be very welcome!
And just to show her my sincerity I turned around and rather clumsily exposed my hairy bum to her - her laugh was ringing like a bell! She slapped my denuded behind a couple of times in a playful way, but then her dormant little dominant character took hold of her. »If you are willing to suffer what I was suffering from you - only then I could ever forgive you for being a man. But if you are just a coward as you plead, you would never earn my respects!« She was a big girl and fixed my cuffed wrists easily to the chain in front of the long mirror. Without any moral inhibition she dropped my trousers, rolled my linen shirt up under my armpits and spanked the denuded cheeks with the sincere f***e of revanche.
Then with great female intuition she found the short riding crop I had used on her helpless bottom in my desk. I clenched my buttocks and was not willing to proof the coward right now - this young lass had potential! Oh - what a thrashing I got! I winched for mercy, my ass was on fire, but her strength didn't match her intended retaliation towards men of brutality. The hard look was gone, her dark eyes sparkled like the rare black opals that only could be found under the boiling ground in the australian desert. She patted my head like I was being a good dog. »Oh, Sir, you detected my deformation, you suffered the rage and retaliation for all my humiliations of the past without any complain - I will have to be grateful to stay fair!«, so the confused lady confessed, and without further ado unbuttoned her blouse and tucked the flimsy chemise under her chin.
My cock stood to immediate attention to the ripe offerings but was quickly and completely buried between the enormous mounts of soft flesh! What a splendid sensation as I worked my hips to drive my proud piston up and down in this natural cylinder! And when ever it reached its top position was greeted with a wet kiss from the lady in service. I couldn't prolong the exciting procedure much more and shot my gratefulness towards her ready and wide open mouth of the vixen, and she didn't waste a drop of the precious liquid - the good girl!
Colette then released myself from my uncomfortable restraint and sank exhausted onto the upholstered couch. Without bothering of my trousers or my whole ass on fire I sat obediently down at her feet and stroked her bare knees like a good slave boy! »You showed me my reality in your magic mirror, Sir - I have finally found my identity, of which I can't be too proud of but can accept like you did your punishment. It's three weeks since my father ...«, here she stopped her vivid narrative and put a finger to her lips as to seal them from making further concessions. But her shirt was exposing clear signs of a growing arousal. But we didn't get any further because Jefferson called in to receive the current news as long they were still warm.
My good friend Jefferson was delighted with my stories about the teaming of a hermaphrodite, but the reason of his recent visit was another matter. He had red-handedly caught a gipsy girl in his hen house stealing eggs, and he didn't wanted to provide the gendarme to correct her petty crime. I could totally agree
to that valid point and declared myself willing to try the conversion. Gipsies although were feral people without morals or law - it would be a most daring undertaking but promised some fun within.

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