‘Let go of me!’ Genevieve suddenly found her voice. ‘You are the whore, not me!’ She shook her head to try and dislodge the fingers gripping her roots, only succeeding in increasing the sharp pain. But Madame Coubette merely cackled her amusement at the futile mini-rebellion, and feeling the struggling girl’s warmth through her dress, she thrust her hand even harder against it.
‘You’re very ripe,’ she mocked. ‘You see, we’re going to get on very well together.’
‘Let go of me!’ Genevieve yelled again, but the arrogant woman merely laughed and clamped her mouth to her exposed throat, while increasing the pressure between her legs even more. Genevieve could feel the woman’s fingers probing insistently, trying to press the cloth of her dress and underwear into her. She squirmed desperately, trying to get free of the hold despite the pain it caused her.
‘Please, leave me alone, I want to get out,’ she begged desperately, trying to lean away from the lips that devoured her throat and were moving down towards her cleavage.
‘Very well,’ the woman said, taking her by surprise, and with two taps on the ceiling she ordered the coachman to stop, whereupon Genevieve was surprised to see they weren’t too far from the chateau, ‘if that’s what you think you want. But this is only a temporary reprieve. I will have you, believe me.’
Genevieve opened the coach door and stepped down quickly, slamming it behind her.
‘Remember what I’ve said, my precious little thing,’ Madame Coubette called as the coach moved off again. ‘I know your game, and as a novice, you’d be better off with an experienced agent like me.’
Chapter Five
The day following her punishment Elise brooded in her room, but it was not the beating itself that bothered her. In fact, the experience delighted her.
When the second stroke of the count’s crop had sizzled on her bottom Genevieve gasped with pity at the tremors that ran over Elise’s chastised buttocks. But, unknown to the innocent girl, the tremors were not a result of pain. With that blow a gentle orgasm had flooded Elise, which she was straining to conceal.
But pain in itself was not a particularly enjoyable experience for Elise; it was the touch of the count’s wrath and the strike of his anger on her body that had become a delicacy for her.
The only disconsolation was that his actions went no further. She had bared herself to him that day as seductively as she could, fully aware of her allure and suspecting how much lust it truly evoked in him. She recognised her own sultry voluptuousness, and knew that few who saw it could fail to be stirred, but she remained the fruit he would not touch and it had rendered her frustrated for so long.
Elise recalled how enjoyable it had been to see her lovely friend writhing tearfully, her beaten bottom so adorably pink and blotchy. Genevieve, so pretty but so, so naïve, she mused.
No, the beating had not been bad at all, but what did continue to rankle were the things Madame Coubette had said about her. The woman seemed to be aware of her frustrations concerning her stepfather, and she also seemed aware of other things about Elise. Why else had she called her a whore?
Elise bathed in the afternoon and then dozed, and when she awoke it was to the sound of a coach approaching. At first she assumed it was her stepfather returning from his trip into town, but she gazed down from her window and was surprised to see Madame Coubette’s coach again. What was she doing returning so soon after her last visit?
Madame Coubette would be disappointed because the count had not returned yet, and a calculating smile lifted the corners of Elise’s mouth. She would go down to greet the woman, she decided.
She dressed quickly and went down to the drawing room, her hands behind her back, her chest thrust out. One of the few remaining maids opened the front door and Madame Coubette entered the drawing room with her usual flamboyant grace, but her smile wilted as she saw Elise and not the count.
‘Good evening,’ the sultry girl welcomed her.
‘Elise, how nice to see you again,’ the woman said tightly. ‘But where is your stepfather?’
‘He clearly wasn’t aware that you were visiting today, and he’s gone into town.’ Elise smiled coolly. ‘I’m afraid he won’t be back until late.’
‘What a shame,’ Madame Coubette said, the atmosphere between them strained.
‘Indeed,’ Elise concurred for false civility. ‘And I am sure he’ll be tired out when he returns.’
Madame Coubette looked coldly at Elise. The young woman filled her with wrath, a feeling so strong that she struggled to suppress it. But she knew how much the count seemed to care for his stepdaughter, and calculated it would not be wise to be too openly hostile to the girl. ‘I came to discuss his proposal to leave the country,’ she stated. ‘I think he might need to think it through a little more carefully.’
‘I doubt he would have mentioned it if he hadn’t thought it through,’ Elise replied tartly. Increasing anger gripped the woman and Elise recognised it, making her bolder. ‘You don’t like me very much, do you, Madame Coubette?’ she goaded.
‘Why, my dear girl, I don’t know what you mean,’ the woman countered coldly.
Elise stared at her accusatorily for a few moments. ‘Well, the last time you were sucking my stepfather’s cock you called me a whore,’ Elise stated dryly. ‘I would hardly call that a term of endearment.’
The smile Madame Coubette had managed to hold thus far evaporated instantly. How boldly Elise had cast the gauntlet at her! ‘Perhaps the count would have enjoyed having you kneeling where I was,’ she hissed back, her eyes narrowing vehemently. ‘And I know you would happily have knelt in my place.’ Elise stared at her blankly, taken aback for a moment. ‘Oh yes, there is much I know about you, young lady. Do you think these old walls have no ears, or that they keep your mischief silent? And what have you been up to with your delicious young friend?’
Elise struggled to construct a reply, whilst Madame Coubette scented blood and went for the jugular.
‘Oh yes, the little morsel looks like quite a tasty treat. So much so that I would not say no to a bite of her myself.’ The woman licked her lips salaciously, enjoying the ease with which she’d snatched the upper hand from Elise. ‘But tell me,’ she went on, driving home her advantage, ‘didn’t you know that silence has a price? Why, there’s a revolutionary committee in town that would love to hear tales of depraved aristocratic households like this one... and depraved aristocrats trying to flee the country, too.’
Madame Coubette was gloating. The gauntlet had been skilfully thrown back and Elise, though still relatively composed, was struggling to pick it up again.
‘And what sort of price does this silence cost?’ she asked, but with little conviction.
‘I’ll need to give it some thought,’ the woman said triumphantly. ‘Tell the count I paid him a visit and that I need to talk to him urgently about his proposed departure.’
Madame Coubette rose. ‘I will leave now, but consider closely what I have said...’
‘Tell me, Madame Coubette,’ Elise said hastily, ‘how does your husband feel about your visits to the count? And how does the revolutionary committee feel about aristocrats’ whores?’
Madame Coubette smiled knowingly at Elise and sat back down. ‘My husband knows about my visits to the count and doesn’t mind in the least,’ she explained, patronisingly. ‘And as for the revolutionary committee, well, I’ve been a whore and a procuress for them and their friends for quite a while. So they wouldn’t care too much, either. I’m one of the people, Elise, and you are not, and that’s all that matters to them. They love me and they hate you. Good try, though.’
Madame Coubette again looked thoughtfully at Elise. ‘You know,’ she went on, ‘I may not like you, young lady, nor you me, but the more I talk to you the more I find we have in common. You remind me of myself when I was younger, although when I was about your age I married my husband. He was a businessman a
nd moneylender, older than me, already balding and losing his teeth when we wed. My father owed him a lot of money and settled some of his debt by offering him me. I was beautiful then, strong and fiery, like you. But my husband didn’t want me just for that. He knew that a desirable girl would be a good investment, if used and managed properly. And that’s what he did. My beauty has helped make us rich and powerful. It has been enjoyed by whomever he knew might be useful to him. And now my husband is old, and not much longer for this world.’
Elise contemplated the woman opposite her with growing interest... and possibly even begrudging admiration.
‘I’ve slept with so many wealthy trades people and aristocrats,’ Madame Coubette continued. ‘That’s how most of my time was spent at your age. It was strange, I was young and so beautiful and all of them were old and so self-important.’
Coubette began chuckling to herself. ‘There was one time, only six months after we married, that my husband owed money to a shipping company whose founder lived in Rency. He spent a week in protracted discussions with the old man. Anyway, my husband told me that for the next month I was to visit the old lecher each Thursday night and not return until Friday afternoon. He instructed that I was to do whatever he asked, no matter how strange it seemed.’
Elise was amazed by what she was hearing.
‘So, there I would be,’ the surprising woman continued, ‘travelling to that huge house on a Thursday evening, terrified. But before the man even touched me in bed he would fall asleep, muttering inanely to himself and then setting about snoring loud enough to wake the dead. In the end I got so fed up that I would wander around his cold house at night, wondering what to do, and then I ended up being seduced by his senior housemaid. She would make love to me for hours and then by morning I would creep back to his bed. When he woke up he would thank me for my time and kiss my forehead, completely unaware that we had done nothing intimate together. But at least the debt was forgotten.’
Madame Coubette began to look more wistful. ‘I grew richer, yes,’ she said, ‘but love and true pleasure for me were never there. So many years later I even tried to buy love, like the men who bought their pleasures from me, but I never found it until I met the count. He is the man that was always meant for me. And the joining of our wealth... why, we would be so powerful in a new France.’
‘But can’t you see?’ Elise said. ‘The count cannot marry you. He can enjoy you, and perhaps even care for you, but no matter how many aristocrats you’ve slept with, or how good you are in bed, or how wealthy, you are not of noble blood. He can never marry you.’
A glaze of hatred possessed the woman’s face, and Elise observed it pensively.
‘It is just one of those things,’ she concluded. ‘And even if you were of noble blood, he would not marry you.’
Madame Coubette’s brow wrinkled with confusion.
‘He loved my mother too deeply,’ the girl explained. ‘She was a very desirable and passionate woman, and I think he sees the same in me. I think he secretly desires me, and this causes him much turmoil and plays heavily on his conscience.’ She sighed reflectively. ‘I am very much like my mother, in appearance and nature, and because of this I am sure my stepfather burns with passion when he looks at me. But he loved my mother deeply, and he wants to honour her in the way of nobles, so it is for this reason that he resists me. It is his way of honouring her, I think, and being noble.
‘So he pretends I am just his wayward charge and tries his best to make a good lady of me, even though he burns with lust to have me as a mistress and feels deep down that trying to make a lady of me is futile. It is another of the foolish traits of the de Tranville blood, I suppose. So we are both unlucky.’
Madame Coubette pondered the girl’s honest disclosure for a few minutes, and then said, ‘You know, if Count de Tranville married me, it would be extremely convenient for both of you. I would not be a selfish or foolish woman. I know that as a man his eyes would wander and his passions might stray from time to time - especially with a beautiful girl like you at hand. What man could resist such temptation?’
Elise looked at her curiously.
‘The world is changing,’ Madame Coubette continued. ‘Your stepfather is in grave danger because he is a noble and he believes in the old world. My husband is sick and not long for this world. By marrying me, a commoner, the count would be demonstrating his commitment to the cause of the revolution. Marriage with me would save him. He would not have to leave France. Together we could meet the committee and be a part of it. I know most of them. And he could show how he rejects the old regime, and how, through his marriage to me, he accepts the new one.’
‘Hm... what you say sounds interesting,’ Elise conceded.
‘It is what I came here to discuss with him this evening,’ Madame Coubette explained.
‘Well, you’ll need to discuss your idea with him very soon,’ Elise pointed out. ‘He’s gone to town today to make the final arrangements for our departure to Portugal.’
Madame Coubette sighed, got up from her chair and sat beside Elise on the divan. She looked deeply at her and held her hands. ‘Elise,’ she said, ‘we may not care too much for each other, but your world of nobility is over. Your class are being hounded and massacred. Soon there will be no more of you. There is no future for you here, and yes, you can run, but for what? A life in exile?’
Elise listened to the woman in silence. ‘This is the only real plan that could save you,’ she insisted. ‘You are young and you clearly harbour desires toward the count. So be it. You are beautiful, but clearly as yet too inexperienced to know how to get what you want from a man. So I will teach you. I will help you capture your heart’s desires.’
‘But wouldn’t you be jealous of me?’ Elise asked.
‘I want to marry your stepfather,’ the woman insisted, ‘that is all. It would be foolish to put him in a cage. But marrying me would leave him and his property safe forever. It would also provide him with not only a wife, but also a wise and consenting woman who already understands his needs, his desire for you, and your youthful fixation with him.’
Elise remained silent, lost in her thoughts, and during the pause both females heard Genevieve getting in and going straight upstairs to bed.
‘It’s strange,’ Madame Coubette murmured, ‘but I’m beginning to feel so much closer to you already. I know we could learn to share and live together peacefully. I can help you get what you want, Elise,’ she added. ‘But you must help me get what I want in return.’
‘How?’ Elise asked in hushed tones.
‘You will make love to the count,’ Madame Coubette revealed. ‘I will be the one to arrange it. And then you will help to convince him of my plan, about how departure is foolish and why me must remain here to enjoy his wealth and my wealth and all kinds of pleasures.’
Elise absorbed the woman’s words, and then nodded. ‘It is best that you talk to my stepfather soon,’ she said. ‘This evening when he returns, or first thing tomorrow morning. You should stay here tonight. I will have the guestroom prepared.’
After Madame Coubette retired to her room Elise remained sitting for a while, her thoughts spinning with new plans and the hatching of new plans.
So Madame Coubette, the woman she had instinctively hated, was now her ally! Could her whore’s plan work? Could the woman really serve to protect her and her stepfather from the revolution? And could she ensure that the silent passions that ran between him and her finally found an outlet?
The prospect had seemed dim until now, but Madame Coubette’s guile and experience were beyond question, and if there was anyone who could help, it might be her after all...
Elise began thinking about Genevieve. How enjoyable it had felt bringing the beautiful girl to heel with her commands, and bringing her to the brink of her pleasures again. And, without doubt, Genevieve was beginning to love it, despite her coyness. Ge
nevieve, as simple and beautiful as she was, was now her slave and it was simply her coyness that held her back.
After the count had punished them both in the library, he had detained Elise. She thought about how she stood before him, naked. He told her never to do what she had done with Genevieve again. What a strain his anger must have been for him; as she stood proudly before him she could not take her lowered eyes away from the prominent bulge thrusting from inside his breeches. And no doubt he could not have failed to observe what her eyes were observing.
But if the count made love to her while married to Madame Coubette, as the woman planned, how would Genevieve fit in?
Would the blossoming fun between her and her blonde friend be allowed to continue? Surely the hypocrisy would prove too great?
From the way the count had looked at Genevieve that day, and from the way Madame Coubette had looked at her upstairs in the bedchamber, it appeared that they too might want to indulge their own extraneous fantasies with the fair-haired beauty.
And what of it? Elise asked herself. If the count made her his woman, did anything else really matter?
Remembering the luscious vision of Genevieve tied and vulnerable over her bed made Elise stir, so she rose and went upstairs to the girl’s bedroom, entering without knocking.
A solitary candle on a dresser opposite Genevieve’s bed lit the room with a soft orange glow. Elise gazed at the white folds of sheets and could see the girl’s blonde head buried in the pillows, her back turned to her as she approached.
‘Are you awake?’ Elise whispered.
Genevieve turned and sat up, and as she did so the sheet about her slid from her shoulders revealing her bare breasts. Elise contemplated them secretly. How comely they were...
‘What do you want?’ Genevieve muttered sleepily.
‘I came to see how you are.’
‘I’m fine,’ Genevieve said shortly.
Elise slowly unbuttoned the bodice of her dress, and as she opened it her full breasts swayed firmly into view. Genevieve’s eyes flitted over them, and standing before her, Elise dropped the dress to the floor. Genevieve gazed at Elise’s body, shapely and alluring.
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