The Count of Cowley Manor

Chapter Five

I kneeled behind him and began slicking him up, licking him with long, upwards caresses, and then when I was ready, forcing my tongue through the tight ring of muscle before driving through into his hole, tasting him, faint traces of bitter shit. I felt him move in response and appreciation. When I had him nicely prepared I spat into my hands and slicked my cock with salve. Positioning myself behind him I rubbed it up and down his humid cleft, getting the feel of him and teasing his hole into the bargain. I would threaten to penetrate him and then take it away, sliding up to the top of his crack then back again to do the same thing. But I could not hold back much longer and was soon grasping his hips and with one good thrust I had him fully corked. He gave out a small grunt, and then sighed. Oh, how joyously welcoming his rectum felt... slick, warm and expectant, and his tortured arse cheeks hot against my groin.

"There, dear boy. I now have my cock inside you. Tell me how it feels to have your beloved uncle actually fucking you."

"It is not at all unpleasant, sir," he gasped. "It is only as if I have the urge to relieve myself, but that is all. Give it to me hard. Make me feel it and make it hurt. You know it's what I deserve for the pathetically meek resistance I have shown. I am surrendering to you, sir. Please make me pay the ultimate penalty."

His words fired me with brutal lust. I began pumping him in earnest like he had requested. "Can you feel my hungry cock moving inside you, Nicholas?" I said breathlessly.

"There is some sensation, Uncle. Errggh! Ah, yes... that's better, like that again. Harder!"

"You are a delicious fuck, sweet nephew, make no mistake. Such a pity that your dear wife cannot pleasure you in this way, don't you agree?" I looked over at Penelope for a reaction, because I was deliberately baiting her. But she was now beyond redemption and resigned to her husband's fate. She remained unmoved, accepting the inevitable.

Nicholas began to respond, picking up the rhythm of my thrusts, so that when I pushed in, he in turn pushed back against me, and when I receded, his arse then responded accordingly, allowing me to slide my prick outwards so that the knob was just about lodged inside his ring, ready to be driven to the hilt once again. He was born to it, a natural passive. His rectum gloved me perfectly, warm and tight, almost sucking me in as if having a life of its own. It would take much discipline not to cum too soon. I did so want to savour every second of this special occasion, the gratuitous plundering of his sex and thus the surrender of his virginity to another male.

I altered my angle of attack so that there was some pressure on his prostate. At the same time I put my right hand under his perineum and massaged the gland from the outside. I wanted to synchronise our orgasms for our mutual and maximum pleasure. I was pumping even harder now, the sound of my balls slapping his arse creating a nice tempo in the afternoon quiet of the stables. The only other sounds were my nephew's persistent grunting in response to my thrusts, and one of the horses occasionally neighing and stamping, as if aware of the debauchery taking place in its presence - perhaps a kind of jealous equine protest on its part.

I felt the delicious moment approaching. I kissed the boy's neck, tasting the salt sweat that was beaded there. Then I sank my teeth into the flesh and began love-biting him hard, so severely and passionately that I swear I drew his blood before I relented.

I took his magnificent stiff prick in my hand and began rubbing him, slow and long strokes to begin with (for he was exceptionally long in the shaft), while I judged the moment that was fast approaching. Then I shortened the stroke and increased the speed as my violent and deep penetrations pounded him towards a glorious conclusion. His cries of painful pleasure greeted every one of my thrusts and the steady increase in their volume as he approached that delicious moment rang out among the old rafters and told me that this was now the time to complete our sacred union.

At first, I felt the pulsing of his orgasm transmuting through his prostate into his rectum just as my climax was rising to the boil. I peered over his shoulder to see a continuous fountain of youthful spunk erupting from the head of his cock, a long, looping arc of pearly white cum that rose at least two feet into the air before splashing down onto the straw-covered ground. I bit viciously into his shoulder as now my own sperm began bubbling forth, in short sharp jerks. I held his hips firm as my guts appeared to melt away from me and I shot intensely into his hole, injecting my sperm deep into his hot bowels. I felt his ring palpitating, gripping the base of my cock, extracting from me every last goodness from my balls. His own orgasm had now subsided into a few fitful spits which I gathered in my palm and smeared along his throbbing shaft.

"Consider yourself initiated, young man," I gasped into his ear as if I'd just run a four minute mile. I was breathless and totally spent. The sweat dripped off his nape and onto my chest, settling on the hairs like morning dew on grass. I extracted myself from his exhausted body with a soft airtight 'pop' and immediately winched him down from the beam. He fell in a heap on the floor, his wrists pure white under the thick cord that encircled them. I hauled him to his knees and presented my soiled cock to his lips.

"Thank you, sir," he said, taking me into his mouth. He seemed to know instinctively what I wanted of him and he proceeded to clean, sterilise and soothe my sore prick to my complete satisfaction. I was too exhausted to be taken to a second orgasm so soon, which was a pity, so lovingly did he suck on my cock... and he would have done so for he was now a very willing young man.

When we were done I untied his wrists and rubbed the feeling back into them, the colour coming back to the surface of the skin like raspberry powder poured into a glass of milk. I offered him a tot of whiskey to fortify him and he accepted gratefully, choking it back in one gulp. Then I helped him to his feet and tossed him his clothing. I then allowed him to free Penelope and they locked together in a loving embrace. She seemed to be beyond anger now, happy in her husband's arms at last, relieved that his ordeal as well as hers was over.

I told them to go and get washed and ready for the evening meal in the great hall and off they went, staggering out into the bright sunlight. They were young and healthy. They would both soon recover. All was well. I had completed the first part of Nicholas's conversion and somehow avoided the wrath of his 'wronged' wife. It seemed to me she had accepted the episode with good grace. After all, it was hardly the sort of honeymoon they were both expecting.

I looked around me, the scene that had been the backdrop to my conquest and felt a certain sense of smugness at my triumph. I noticed the little puddles of semen scattered about the floor and vowed to myself that never again would I waste a drop of my nephew's precious nectar. I then dressed, tidied away the props, mopped up and went outside the stables to take my regular pre-supper stroll.

I looked around me, taking in the evening air which was heavy with the fortifying scent of summer flowers. I took a deep breath and felt the strength returning to my bones. I then put my hands behind my back, started whistling a happy tune and commenced my walk through the luxuriant gardens of the manor, privately planning my next foray.

(...to be continued...)