Under a Stern Reign

by Raymond Wilde

Count de Tranville made light work of the stout wooden door. He thrust it open and stood framed in the entrance, glaring at the two startled girls.

  Emelie shrieked and Genevieve clutched her tight, the girls instinctively using each other for comfort and protection.

  He remained silent, staring, his knuckles white he gripped the whip so fiercely. What a despicable spectacle the two girls made to his affronted eyes... but how stunningly beautiful they were.

  Like angelic twins. They were the same height, both with the same slim, nubile frame, the same light blonde hair, the same fresh, rosy complexion. Their matching beauty was like something from a fairytale. They were two wood nymphs, caught frolicking by a jealous, angry ogre... but then he shook the fancifully ridiculous thoughts away.

  Elise and Madame Coubette blustered in too, the older woman sneering at the speechless girls.

  ‘Now do you believe me?’ Elise demanded, the smugness in her tone stirring him from the trance in which the vision of the girls had gripped him.

  He strode further into the room, the whip held threateningly, then without warning he raised it and slashed it down onto the tabletop beside him, the loud crack making the girls gasp and flinch, hugging each other even more protectively, wondering what they’d done to attract such menace.

  Genevieve felt her heart thumping in her chest, staring aghast at Count de Tranville.

  ‘I allowed you to stay in my home because of my deep respect and friendship for your family,’ he said to her slowly. ‘It was for that reason that I’ve treated you with affection, as one of my own, but it seems that such generous affection and consideration has been misplaced.’

  ‘She should be severely punished,’ Madame Coubette urged. ‘And the other little strumpet, too!’

  ‘The first time I found you committing these unnatural practices was with Elise,’ he went on, hearing the woman but ignoring her, ‘and I punished you in the way I thought best. But even then I punished you with consideration, not sure which of you was the guiltier. It is clear to me now, and I am only sorry that I doubted my dear Elise. Your presence in my home has only brought shame upon me, young lady.’

  ‘But...’ Genevieve managed, utterly aghast at the unexpected appearance of Count de Tranville and the two females, and of what he was accusing her, ‘we haven’t done anything. We’re doing nothing wrong. Emelie has been kind enough to?’

  ‘Shame,’ he repeated angrily, cutting her off and shifting his stern stare to Emelie, ‘such as this girl once brought, too.’

  ‘It’s not true!’ Emelie blurted defensively.

  ‘You will be silent unless spoken to!’ he roared, and she wisely made not another sound. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’ he demanded. ‘I dismissed you and sent you away. What are you doing still on my property?’

  ‘This house was given to me by my husband, Jacques,’ Emile told him, lifting her chin defiantly.

  The count frowned. ‘This lodge was never his to give to anyone,’ he told her frankly. ‘I let it to him on a peppercorn rent some years ago. Where is he now?’

  ‘He left me,’ Emelie confessed.

  ‘I am not surprised,’ he said cruelly, widening the smirks on the faces of the two females behind him. ‘You are an unnatural little whore who has found her equal in this one,’ he nodded at Genevieve, and saw her eyes flicker in the direction of his stepdaughter.

  ‘So, despite all this you still have eyes for my Elise, do you?’ he said. ‘You depraved little vampire.’

  Genevieve fought for something to say, words with which to defend herself against such unjust accusations, but they continued to elude her.

  The count stepped back beside the raven-haired girl. ‘Tell me,’ he went on, still addressing the poor blonde girl, ‘when you gaze upon her beauty, what do you feel?’

  Genevieve still didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Do you feel like a man would feel?’ he asked. ‘Do you feel you want to kiss her and touch her like a man would?’

  Genevieve stared at Elise, her cheeks burning, but still she failed to defend herself, and as she faltered he moved with surprising speed and agility, grabbed her wrist and flung her facedown across the table. She shrieked, but it was too late to take evasive action, and before she knew what was happening a large hand between her shoulders pinned her down and his other raised, the whip held aloft.

  ‘Now, you little hussy, let’s see if you will learn this lesson!’ he hissed, his eyes wild with rage. ‘So tell me, what are you feeling now?’ he provoked through gritted teeth. ‘Do you feel lusty still? Would you like to make improper with my stepdaughter again?’

  Without giving the restrained girl a chance to respond he swung his arm powerfully down, cracking the whip across her unprotected bottom. Thankfully the nightdress offered a little protection, though it was scant and the cruel strike still caused Genevieve immense hurt.

  ‘What you feel is only natural for someone with a cock!’ he taunted. ‘So you must learn that unnatural desires only bring pain and shame. And it is pain and shame you will remember every time you look at another of your own gender, you reprehensible creature!’

  ‘Please,’ Genevieve managed at last, ‘please, sir, I do not deserve this!’

  ‘You will be quiet and accept your punishment with dignity!’ he roared, and then as the other three females looked on - two with wicked triumph sparkling in their eyes, the third rooted to the spot in shock at what was unravelling before her - his arm powered down again and the whip cracked viciously against the bent girl’s hindquarters, the awesome sound muffled only very slightly by the cotton of her nightdress.

  Beneath his hand the count felt sweet Genevieve’s back stiffen and her lithe frame attempt to arch up rebelliously against his hold, and it amazed him how the actuality of restraining her on the tabletop, and the spirit indicated by her attempted resistance, transmitted extremely pleasurable sensations to his groin, and he realised his cock was stiffening significantly inside his breeches. He gazed down at her pert buttocks, tormented by the thin white cotton that hid them from his hungry stare.

  Fear filled Genevieve. The eyes of everyone were upon her. Her shame was so great she felt light-headed, sure she was about to faint at any moment.

  Behind her stepfather Elise lurked, like a voluptuous princess of some dark and savage kingdom, relishing the display before her and congratulating herself for such a successful outcome - better than she could ever have hoped for when the seeds of a plan began to propagate the night before. Her breasts quivered faintly with her breathing, for there was something darkly erotic about what was happening to naïve little Genevieve. Her stepfather raised his arm again and she held her breath, feeling her nipples tingle deliciously.

  The whip swept down again and Genevieve wailed, tears trickling down her cheeks and wetting the scrubbed tabletop. Her eyes were tightly closed against the pain and shame. The bite of the whip stung increasingly.

  Svit! It cut down across her buttocks again, causing her to sob aloud and the three onlookers to gasp - two in admiration for the count, one in sympathy for Genevieve. The pain of the beating was spreading from its various points of contact and making her whole bottom alive with heat... but she could feel the treacherous heat between her thighs shamefully merging with the heat in her buttocks.

  Then the count grunted his frustration at the protecting shift, slammed the whip on the table and hoisted the interfering garment up to her waist. Then, without pausing, he delivered a fusillade of smacks to her naked bottom and thighs with the flat of his palm. Genevieve wailed and put her hands protectively back to her punished bottom, but he ordered her to lay her arms on the table above her head and to stop complaining, then for the next few minutes the only sounds in the small lodge was flesh striking flesh and the distraught girl’s pleas for mercy. He became a man possessed, his bulging eyes devouring the way her mouth-wateringly curvaceous
buttocks quivered beneath each noisy impact, the unexpected and secret pleasure he experienced in spanking her almost making him forget why he was dispensing the punishment in the first place.

  Eventually his arm slowed and the chastisement came to an end, Genevieve lying exhausted on the scrubbed pine and the count breathing heavily, his shoulders slumped, his palm tingling pleasantly. He gazed down at her beaten, blotchy buttocks, and for the first time in his life he experienced a powerful yet inexcusable urge to expose his erection and feed it between those deliciously firm globes, pierce her tight anus and relieve himself deep in her most private passage. From where had such an unnatural desire surfaced?

  ‘Now,’ he said to Genevieve, quickly pulling himself together and suppressing the aberrant thought, ‘whenever you are tempted by unnatural urges, you will know and remember what pain and shame they bring. Do you understand me?’ Still slumped over the table she nodded, sobbing more quietly now. ‘You will thank me one day for ridding you of such deviant weakness.

  ‘And you,’ he said, turning to Emelie, ‘will get off my property this instant, before I lose my good humour and have you arrested as a trespasser.’

  Emelie burst into tears. ‘But, what will I do? Where will I go?’

  The count gazed at her blankly. ‘That is not my concern,’ he said, then turned and walked out of the lodge.

  Count de Tranville’s anger had faded by the time they reached the chateau. In the capacious hall he put his arm around Genevieve’s shoulder, and she looked up at him with timid surprise. Gently he put his finger under her chin, smiled, and then told her to go upstairs, bathe and rest. He wanted to speak to her privately that evening.

  He turned to Elise, and felt acutely uncomfortable with how she again made him feel, for the sheer danger her beauty and poise represented for him made his penis thicken in his breeches. He quickly dismissed the treacherous thoughts entering his head and told her to assist her stiffly moving friend. For a moment she stared at him silently, rebelliously, but then nodded and aided the blonde girl upstairs.

  Having savoured a hot bath Genevieve put on a freshly laundered nightdress, wincing as the delicate white cotton kissed her beaten bottom, and sat very carefully on the stool in front of her dressing table mirror. She felt warm and refreshed, but her buttocks were still smarting.

  She gazed at her reflection, and thought of Emelie. What would happen to her now? She had been thrown out of her home, so what was to become of her?

  It was all Genevieve’s fault. She closed her eyes and remembered the girl’s face and her tender nature. Tears welled in her eyes, just as Elise entered brusquely without knocking.

  She picked up a brush and began stroking it through Genevieve’s silky blonde hair. ‘Why did you run away last night?’ she asked.

  ‘You frightened me,’ Genevieve told her frankly.

  ‘It was a prank. A sexy little game.’

  ‘I didn’t find it so.’ Genevieve looked into Elise’s eyes in the mirror. ‘It hurt me.’

  Elise put the brush down on the dressing table, her expression enigmatic. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t like it,’ she said. ‘You can’t hide your feelings from me. Do you think I couldn’t tell?’

  Elise squeezed her shoulders and gently began massaging them. Genevieve let her head sink, and gazed down at her hands in her lap. She wanted to be angry with Elise, but she still adored her friend too much, despite everything.

  ‘Do you know who’s arriving tomorrow?’ Elise asked matter-of-factly.

  ‘No, who?’

  ‘Rodolfo,’ Elise announced, searching the young blonde’s eyes for a reaction. Genevieve fell silent, a slight blush shading her cheeks. ‘And do you know what the count wants to talk to you about this evening?’ Genevieve shook her head. ‘He’s going to ask for your hand in marriage.’ Elise’s beautiful eyes glowed mischievously.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Genevieve gasped.

  ‘He intends to marry you.’

  ‘Count de Tranville wants to marry me?’ Genevieve babbled, her eyes widening in disbelief.

  ‘And he is planning to have your handsome Rodolfo marry me, too.’

  ‘But... but he is so much older than me, and I don’t love him.’

  ‘And I don’t love Rodolfo,’ Elise said tartly. ‘So what’s that got to do with it?’

  ‘I won’t marry him,’ Genevieve insisted. ‘I don’t love him. How could I? How could he even think it, after what he did to me only this morning? And after making poor Emelie homeless, with nowhere to go and no one to help her?’

  ‘That’s not important,’ Elise interrupted. ‘The count always gets his own way.’

  ‘What should I do?’

  Elise shrugged. ‘Oh, I might have a plan,’ she mused.

  By late afternoon the count was in his library enjoying a bottle of red wine, contemplating the delicacy of the vintage. Having finished the first bottle within an unwisely short space of time, he called for another.

  For a while he sat staring at its lustrous red colour in his glass, lost in thought: that night he would propose to Genevieve!

  He would be married again to a beautiful female. But he was tense. His good friend de Montvert would definitely not have approved of the marriage, on the grounds of his daughter’s tender years and the consequent age gap between them, but sadly he was dead.

  Unfortunately, however, he had created an obstacle to his proposal; after the punishment he’d administered that morning Genevieve would probably be cold towards him. She might well fear him, too.

  Perhaps he should have been more diplomatic in the way he dealt with her indiscretions. What could he now do to win back her confidence? How could he make her accept him as a husband and a lover? He pictured her for a moment, how beautiful she was, his cock stirring again, and then he shook the musings from his mind. He had to focus on the situation before him.

  The wine was making him drowsy. As he pondered he drank more, and began feeling hungry.

  It would soon be time for dinner, during which he would propose to sweet Genevieve...

  The sight of Genevieve being whipped and then spanked whilst pinned to the table in the lodge had certainly stirred Madame Coubette’s passions - as had the beauty of the lovely girl, Emelie.

  And that is why she offered the distraught girl a position of maid at her Rency town house immediately the count banished her from her meagre home. Madame Coubette’s anger toward the count had reached its zenith, and as she reached between her parted legs and stroked the silky blonde head of the sexy little morsel she had acquired, she sipped her red wine and reflected upon the steps she had taken to exact revenge on him, a cunning smile lifting the corners of her rouged lips as an inquisitively obedient tongue located her clitoris...

  Arriving at the offices of the town’s revolutionary committee earlier that afternoon, she had been warmly greeted by her friends there. Then she informed them of a treachery that was afoot - none other than Count de Tranville’s collusions with foreign spies and his plan to escape the country. She informed them that a certain Rodolfo de Agora, an aristocrat and a Portuguese spy, had been plotting against the new regime along with de Tranville, and that if they wanted to arrest the two traitors they should pay a visit to Chateau de Tranville much sooner rather than later.

  With the accusation and information, and the esteem and trust in which the committee held Monsieur and Madame Coubette, Rodolfo de Agora and Count Guillaume de Tranville were immediately sentenced to be jailed without trial, and guillotined.

  Madame Coubette sipped some more wine and then hissed with pleasure as the obediently kneeling girl’s tongue compounded her sense of immense satisfaction.

  ‘You can’t keep running away from things,’ Elise said to Genevieve, who was lying on her bed. The blonde did not want to marry the count and she did not want to go down to dinner.

  ‘But I
won’t marry him!’ she cried, raising herself onto her elbows.

  ‘I know,’ Elise said, ‘but listen... it’s time I told you a little secret.’ She moved and sat on the edge of the bed, beside the supine girl. ‘I’m in love with my stepfather. And so I don’t want you to marry him either.’ Genevieve’s large blue eyes widened as she absorbed the confession. ‘And I know he feels the same about me, too. So tonight I will make love to him, and seal our future together.’

  ‘But, if he loves you...’ Genevieve muttered, astounded by what she was hearing, ‘why does he want to marry me?’

  ‘He loves us both. He wants us both.’

  Genevieve frowned, finding that hard to believe. ‘But I don’t feel anything for him... at least, not in that way.’

  ‘But you do feel something for me,’ Elise said confidently. ‘In fact, you feel a lot for me, in that way, don’t you?’

  Genevieve gazed at her in silence, and lay motionless as Elise moved slowly and kissed her. Entranced and wickedly excited, she closed her eyes and received the kiss without complaint. She gradually relaxed and opened her mouth, savouring the gentle stroke of Elise’s tongue, aware of the dark seductress carefully unfastening the top buttons of her nightdress, but unable or unwilling to resist. A hand wormed inside and cupped her breast, and she breathed deeply. The kiss ended and Genevieve instinctively nibbled the girl’s throat.

  ‘I’ve a plan,’ Elise murmured. ‘A plan which will force him to marry me instead of you.’

  Genevieve’s eyes were closed, the bodice of her dress partly open, and Elise was pinching and teasing her nipples through the cotton. They tingled and grew erect at the cool touch, and Genevieve sighed blissfully.

  ‘But I’ll need your absolute cooperation,’ Elise continued. ‘You must trust me.’

  Genevieve opened her eyes. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked dreamily.

  Elise sat back, her hand moving again and lying idly inside the cotton slip, feeling the warmth of the blonde girl’s flesh. ‘We are to go downstairs, and we will show him the nature of what we feel for each other.’