Memoirs of Lady Catherine

I spent my first night back home at Norman Hall tortured by sinfully erotic dreams. This was no doubt the fault of my mother, Lady Beatrice, who had barely welcomed me back before taking me to her chambers to begin my hands-on instruction in the art of orally sodomizing the male penis.

When I'd risen that morning I'd been an acolyte nun, with no anticipation of ever leaving the convent. And though I remained a virgin at bedtime, that was beside the point. I'd all but renounced the Church, and was well on my way to becoming a common harlot.

This should have horrified me, and of course it did -- in a way. But that was not the whole truth, and the rest of the story involved fantasies that exceeded all previous imaginings.

The next day began, before the rising of that low winter sun, with the appearance of my new chambermaid, Gertrude. She was a bit older than me, and had been blessed by God with a supernatural plainness -- whereas at almost 19, I'd been cursed with the sin-tempting combination of pleasurable curves, full lips, clear skin, smouldering gray-green eyes and a long and shapely neck. Getrude offered few words, but stoked my hearth, filled my washbasin, laid out my clothes and toiletries, and departed with my chamberpot.

I was still washing before the basin when I heard the door to my private chambers open, and turned -- half-naked and afraid -- to spy Lady Beatrice, who waited for a familiar-looking woman and a man I'd never seen before to enter the room behind her.

"There, I told you she was a remarkable beauty, now didn't I?" Mother said, addressing the young man proudly. He was a tall, strapping bondsman, broad of shoulder, narrow of hip, with well-groomed hair and a dark, carefully trimmed beard.

I squealed something along the lines of "Mother!" as I tried, and failed, to conceal my breasts, bottom, and pubis.

"Magnifique!" the warrior exclaimed. He was clearly not just a soldier, but an aristocrat.

"Catherine, this is Belbouche, an officer in your father's household cavalry. Say hello, dear."

I gave up trying to cover myself by the basin, and instead ran to the bed, where I grabbed up a sheet and wrapped it around me.

"How can I say hello to a man when I am naked, Mother?"

"Just like that will be fine," she replied. "And this is Duchess Ilsa. You may remember her as your childhood playmate during your summers at Duke de Mayo's castle."

"Ilsa?" I asked.

"The same," she said, and kissed me on the cheek. "Be a dear, Catherine, and untie my dress at the back."

"What are you doing?" I asked her, instantly alarmed.

"Your next class in the skills required of a lady, dear," Mother interjected. "Do as she said and help unlace that bodice. This one's going to have to be quick. Your father will be riding out to the hunt in a few minutes, and Belbouche must be beside him."

"It's my job," he shrugged, then winked at me as he began trying to pull off one of his tall boots.

"No, no, Belbouche! On the bed!" Mother instructed, and he did as she commanded, sitting on the bed while I stood, nearly naked except for a sheet, unlacing the bodice of Ilsa's lovely dress. The soldier stuck out one boot, which Mother grasped and removed, and then another.

"Do you remember what I taught you last night? Your first fellatio techniques?"

I nodded, mortified.

"Good," she said, setting Belbouche's second boot on the floor. Ilsa shimmied out of her dress, which she laid neatly over the back of a chair.

"What else?" my old friend asked Mother.

"It's chilly in here, so just everything below the waist," she replied. Ilsa nodded her assent, stripped off her underskirts, and with her bare bum and pussy plain for all to see, bounced merrily onto my bed, smiling at Belbouche.

"Now it's your turn, good sir," Lady Beatrice said, and with no further prompting, Belbouche undid the belt holding up the front of his pants and let them drop to his ankles. An enormous, semi-erect phallus flopped free before him, and he looked up from it to my eyes and grinned.

"Blessed Virgin, Mother of God, be our protector in our..." I prayed.

"Oh none of that now, dear," Mother said, interrupting me. "Although your piety will come in very useful in the days to come."

"Why are they here, Mother?"

"Because they're going to demonstrate your next technique," she replied. "Sodomy."

"You get to watch Monsieur Belbouche fuck my pretty little arse," Ilsa said, her eyes and smile practically sparkling.

The next thing I recall was Belbouche helping me to sit up from the floor, while Mother, Ilsa and Gertrude fluttered around me.

"You fainted, dear," Mother said. "That's all. Are you alright?"

"Did she just say that he was going to ..."

"Yes, of course," Mother said. "Help her up."

The rest of the group put me back on my feet.

"Well look at you," Ilsa said, approvingly. I'd forgotten about my undressed condition, so there I stood, naked before the audience. "I don't think I've ever seen such lovely breasts."

"And the bum!" Belbouche exclaimed, his eyes wide and his hands, palms up, thrust forward in amazement. "Sacrebleu!"

This time it was Mother who intervened, quickly covering me with the bedsheet again.

"Gawking is rude," she reminded them. "Beside, I already told you she'd grown into an amazing beauty."

"I have never seen such a beauty before in my life!" Belbouche said, reverently, then dropped to one knee before me. "Mademoiselle, it would be the honor of my life to receive the pleasure of your virginity."

"You shall do no such thing!" Mother proclaimed. "Now go back to the bed and wait while I speak to my daughter."

Belbouche and Ilsa returned to my bed, and Gertrude disappeared from sight before Lady Beatrice spoke again.

"Catherine, my love, no man will take your virginity before your wedding night," she said gently. "I don't want you to worry about that. Promise me you won't worry."

"I promise," I said.

"Good," she said, patting my hands. "That's why Ilsa is here. To teach you how to take a good, hard assfucking and actually enjoy it."

And apparently that's when I fainted again.

When I regained consciousness, I was lying naked on my bed, surrounded by onlookers who were describing my various attributes: My lilting strawberry blonde locks, which perfectly matched the shade of my pubes; my pale skin; my pink, erect nipples; the pertness of my breasts; the tight, complimenting curves of my hips and belly and thighs. I listened with my eyes closed, both frightened and flattered by their worshipful tones.

"She is already the most beautiful woman in the kingdom," I heard Lady Beatrice say. "And once we're done with her, no man alive will be able to resist her charms."

"Forgive me," I said, opening my eyes. "I was a nun just yesterday morning."

"Yes you were," Mother said, lowering herself to sit upon the bed beside me. "And we are sorry about the speed of your instruction. I know this must be shocking."

"I confess it is," I replied.

"Please, allow me," Ilsa said. Lady Beatrice nodded. "Catherine, do you remember little Alfred from our group of childhood friends?"

"Of course," I said. "He was a funny little fellow."

"Funny looking, yes," she said. "And now he is Lord Alfred, the Duke of Cormorant, owner of vast estates and also ... my husband."

"Little Alfred?"

"The same. Two estates over, first castle on the right. He isn't much of a man, but nevertheless he's quite a rich man."

"Our job,' Mother interjected, "is to secure you a similar match. But the problem is that your father's fortunes have diminished so far that no such match is available to you by standard means. Which is why you will need to proceed by an alternative route."

"What do you mean?"

"All in good time," Mother reassured me. "But at the moment, I must prepare you for the intimate portion of your career. This means I shall teach you to flirt, and to tease, and to kiss, and to suck. I will teach you all these things, and you will make the most of them. But what I cannot teach you -- yet -- is how to make full and expert use of that lovely pussy of yours."

"Before you can be properly wed to a man of means," Ilsa interjected, "a physician must examine you, with several ladies present from both families. So you simply must keep your hymen intact."

"That said," Mother continued, "there's no hymen over your mouth."

"Or your bum," Ilsa offered.

"Correct," Mother agreed. "And since you cannot become pregnant by offering up your bum..."

"You get the picture," Ilsa concluded.

"But if I allow a man to sodomize me..." I began.

"Yes, yes, you'll burn in Hell," she interrupted. "Or so the priests keep telling us. Tell me, dear, do you remember Father Coles from the Cathedral?"

I nodded.

"And do you remember how it was said that he liked to bugger little boys?"

I nodded.

"Do you know what we call him now?"

I shook my head.

"Bishop Coles. And his buggery roster grows longer by the week."

"It's true," Belbouche said, then blushed.

"Do you really believe, young lady, that an actual bishop would engage in any behavior that would send him to Hell?"

"I don't know, Mother."

"Well I do, and the answer is no. He would not. And here's the next thing you might as well learn: What do you call a Christian wife who won't take it up the ass?"

"I'm sure I don't know," I replied.

"A mother," she said. The three of them laughed like that was the funniest joke in the world.

"Look I just want you to understand, Catherine. You're going to have lots of men -- and women -- clamoring for that pussy of yours. And if you wish to become anything other than pregnant within the coming months, you're going to have to learn how to satisfy a man with your other attributes. Which are considerable."

"I swear it on my mother's name!" Belbouche shouted. I turned his way and realized that he was still naked from the waist down, as was Ilsa. Only now Belbouche's penis was as erect as a white pine: Enormous, sturdy, almost majestic.

To my shame, I immediately imagined taking it into my mouth.

"Can I please have my assfuck now?" Ilsa asked, smiling.

"It certainly seems that Monsieur Belbouche is ready to perform his role," Mother said. "I was going to have you demonstrate your new mouth skills to prepare him, Catherine, but it seems that is not necessary."

"Yet still..." Belbouche said, looking from Mother to me and back again.

"I have no objection," Mother said. "Catherine, minister to Monsieur Belbouche. Show us what you've learned."

"I cannot!" I protested. "I will not!"

But how I wanted to!

Mother rolled her eyes.

"You are truly tiresome," she said. "Teach her, Captain."

"With pleasure!" he exclaimed, and in an instant he was atop me on the bed, knees straddling my breasts, one hand raising my head by the hair, the other pressing his dagger-length cock down to my mouth, dragging its tip across my contrary, pursed lips.

"I'd hoped you'd be a better student, Catherine," Mother said.

I opened my mouth to protest, and that's all it took for Belbouche to push the first inch of so of his monster cock inside.

I made some sort of angry animal noise, which only caused Mother and Ilsa to laugh.

"Stop pretending!" Mother said. "I know my own daughter. I saw the way you looked at our captain's truly beautiful penis. I know you wanted to try it."

As she spoke, I felt my pride recede. I truly did want to suck it. I wanted it to love me, to love my mouth, lips and tongue. I wanted it between my legs, flicking along the wet slit of my pussy, darting, probing, seducing, opening...

Forgive me Virgin Mother, forgive me Father, forgive me priests and friars, monks and abbots. Forgive me Mother Superior, forgive me Sisters. Because as Belbouche penetrated my mouth, I surrendered all semblance of resistance. I opened my lips as wide as they would stretch. I received him as deep as my gag reflex would allow. I treated him as gently, as gracefully, as subserviently as my rapidly growing imagination would allow.

Soon he was no longer thrusting, but receiving. I wanted him to want me. I wanted to please him. I wanted him to lose all control, take me in his strong hands, open my legs and push that big, long cock straight into my virgin pussy. I wanted to feel it slide into all my unexplored places.

"Lady Beatrice, I must thank you," Belbouche said as I sucked. "Your daughter, she is unskilled, but never have I felt a mouth so sensual, lips so naturally large and soft and giving."

"Interesting," she replied.

"I can hear you," Ilsa reminded him. "I'm right here."

"I mean no insult to you, my little cabbage," Belbouche said to her. "I love to receive your mouth as well. And there is no ass in the world quite like..."

"That's right," Ilsa said. "And if you get too aroused and fail in your promise to ride that ass to my full satisfaction, I shall send you away and find a new plaything."

I remember thinking "How could that be enjoyable?" as I experimented with how much of his penis I could take, occasionally gagging softly, but trying again.

"Catherine dear," Mother said, "open your eyes. I want you to see this."

I did as she instructed and saw that she held a carrot, which she was peeling with her dagger. Beside her on the bed, Ilsa knelt, her butt in the air and her head down. I could see both her pussy and her anus, shameless exposed and fully aroused.

"While you're preparing Belbouche, I'm just shaping this carrot to assist our friend Ilsa. And so: You see?" She held it up for me to view: It was an oxheart carrot, and she'd whittled it into a shape almost like a spade. "And now some olive oil, from Spain..."

Mother produced a stoppered bottle from a dress pocket, pulled the cork with her teeth, and poured a small amount onto the carved carrot. She used her hands to slick it up uniformly, then picked up the bottle again and poured oil onto Ilsa's ass. The golden fluid traveled slowly over her rosebud and down toward her already sopping pussy.

"The first time I took a cock in my ass was from your father's younger brother," Mother said as she took the slick carrot and began pushing it against the opening to Ilsa's ass. "Your Uncle Uthbart. He didn't even do me the courtesy of oiling me up and gently stretching me out. He just spit in his hand, spread it on his cockhead, and pushed it right up my bum. I thought I was going to climb the tapestries."

In my amazement I lost track of the passionate rhythm I'd created while sucking Belbouche's cock. But I could not believe my eyes: After a few gentle, shallow pushes, Mother sensed that Ilsa was relaxing, and pressed the carrot deeper. Ilsa's asshole spread wider, then held the root in place.

"Did you forget about me?" Belbouche asked. I shook my head with his penis still in my mouth, then resumed my ministrations. But my eyes remained on the carrot in Iisa's bum -- and the fingers she reached between her legs to massage that sensitive, forbidden little bud at the top of her pussy slit.

"But of course Uthbart is a brut," Mother continued, "and I never let him have me again. Your Uncle William, on the other hand, was a sweet boy..."

My eyes bugged large as Mother pushed the thickest part of the carrot through Ilsa's tight sphincter. Only its thick base kept the vegetable from slipping all the way inside.

"How does that feel, Ilsa?" Lady Beatrice asked politely.

"Heavenly painful," her muffled voice replied as her fingers picked up their pace, rubbing her sensitive bulb and penetrating her vagina. "Does Belbouche look like he's about to lose control?"

Mother glanced back at him.

"Belbouche! Are you about to cum?"

"I gave Lady Ilsa my word!" he replied. "But of course, should she choose to release me from my vow, I'm sure I could quite easily surrender my seed to your daughter's warm..."

"I DO NO SUCH THING, CAPTAIN!" Ilsa shouted.

"I am so sorry, my little apple," Belbouche said to me, grasping my chin gently as he began withdrawing his engorged penis from my mouth. "My little radish. My little mellon..."

I relinquished him reluctantly.

"Now, to other happy business," the cavalier said, his tone again upbeat as he reoriented his attention from my stretched and pouting lips to Ilsa's lovely rump. Mother rose from her place on the bed as Belbouche addressed his cock toward the Duchess' backside. "This is such a lovely sight. My little cabbage, are you sure I cannot take your little pussycat this time?"

He flicked the tip of his glistening cock against the opening of her vagina playfully.

"You most certainly may not!" Ilsa said, face down in the bedclothes. But she didn't sound cross.

"Ilsa is a woman of good sense," Mother said to me. "Should our friend Belbouche accidentally shoot some semen into her pussy and impregnate her, Lord Alfred would surely know that she has been unfaithful. Because Lord Alfred has... physical problems."

"More mental than physical," Ilsa said, lifting her head and turning it to face me, then laying it back down on the mattress. Belbouche had begun slowly extracting the carved carrot from her bum. "Can't get it up. A malaise from which our steadfast friend Belbouche has never suffered."

Her arse surrendered the carrot gracefully, and I watched in horrified fascination as the little pink sphincter closed back to its original shape. It occurred to me that I'd never actually seen an asshole before.

"Since my own husband can't -- or won't -- fuck me, I learned to find my pleasure elsewhere," she continued. "And eventually it dawned on me that -- with the proper preparation and stimulation -- my petit morte is far stronger with a cock up my arse. Speaking which, you may begin, Monsieur Belbouche."

"Petit morte?" I asked Mother.

"The 'little death' in French," she replied as we both watched Belbouche oil up his cock in his fist, then line up its enormous tip with Ilsa's little rosebud. "It's the best feeling in God's creation. As you will soon understand."

"Sometimes I think the first opening of Lady Ilsa's tight bum is the best feeling in the world," Belbouche said reverently. He was gripping the base of his shaft with his right hand, and had reached out with his left to grasp Ilsa's hip and hold her in place. With the tip of his slick member already pressed against her previously lubricated opening, it took only a slight shifting of his hips to slip that purple cockhead inside her.

Not even a thrust. A gentle-yet-insistent push that went only far enough to spread her anus and hold it open, as the carrot had briefly done. And then he froze.

And she gasped.

And clawed the bedsheet with the fingers of her right hand. And closed her eyes. And turned her face away from me so that it pressed down into the bedsheets. The fingers of her left hand now rubbed her dangling bulb with even greater urgency.

"The arse is an amazing thing, dear," Mother said to me quietly, in a voice that would have been appropriate for vespers. "Note how Belbouche, who is an expert in buttfucking, gives her the tip only. He understands that in just a minute or two, its muscles will relax to accommodate his girth. And she understands that the pain she is feeling right now -- which is quite manageable -- will soon give way to pleasure. Exquisite pleasure"

Belbouche turned to face us, grinning, as he released his cock and applied his right hand to caressing Ilsa's lovely bare rump.

"Our first time was not so good," he confessed. "I did not understand."

"Yes, but you are an excellent student of the female body," Mother said. "Look how far you have progressed!"

At that moment, I noticed that Ilsa had begun undulating her hips, each motion first revealing a bit of his cockhead, then taking it back inside, revealing a bit of his cockhead, then taking a bit more of his shaft.