Angelica almost always thought of herself as
Cinderella. Of course her aunt wasn’t really cruel and
her cousins, although they were sometimes mean, were
also nice to her now and then and often gave her hand-
me-down clothes to wear. But she did all the dirty jobs
and she never got to go to parties or dances. She was
their servant, slept in the cellar and earned her keep.
The girl’s parents had died in an accident when she was
young, and her aunt was the only relative willing to
take her in as she was repeatedly reminded.
After the family left for the ball that evening,
Angelica took off her shabby skirt, tattered drawers
and sweaty shirt and stood before the full-length
looking glass in her aunt’s dressing room. She examined
herself, turning left and right and then got a hand
mirror and looked at her back and her buttocks. She
decided that she was pretty, in fact very pretty. She
Angelica was almost sixteen, nearly five-two in her
bare feet and she weighed around 100 pounds. Her waist
was slim, her hips nicely sloped and curved and her
buttocks firm and rounded especially when she stood up
on her toes. Her rapidly developing breasts, now nearly
the size and shape of the balls used in lawn bowling,
sat high on her chest and would have easily filled most
men’s hands. They were topped with tiny rosebud nipples
that turned slightly away from each other and were very
sensitive. She smiled at the mirror and admired her
face, knowing she would be beautiful some day. She was
right about that too. She had excellent bone structure,
lovely eyes, kissable lips, a high forehead, a stubborn
chin, clear skin and a small nose.
She took a deep breath and found one of her cousin’s
frilly and lace-trimmed chemises, much too fine an
undergown to be called a shift. She shrugged it down
over her curls and smoothed it over her developing
hips. It would have to do, she decided seeing that her
nipples were barely visible and the few blonde curls
sprouting in her groin could not be seen because of the
shadow of her small belly. She belted it just below her
breasts with a piece of blue satin ribbon in the
current high-waisted style. She put her feet in some
slippers of her cousin’s and tied a blue ribbon about
her golden hair so it was pulled high on her head
instead of hanging halfway down her back.
Then she hurried down to the carriage house and met
Hugo as he returned with the closed barouche. “A
messenger just left,” she told him breathlessly,
“you’re to take me there and wait for me. It’s
The driver looked at the luscious little blonde
standing before him in a filmy gown and felt himself
quickly aroused. With the light behind her, he could
see right through her dress. The other girls were plain
as dirt compared to this beauty, he decided as he held
the door for her and admired her ass and shapely leg as
she stepped up. He doubted there had been any
At the stone-walled mansion, Angelica hopped from the
rig, cried, “Wait for me,” and dashed around to the
back of the big home, mounted the brick stairs that led
from the garden and stood on the patio looking in at
the dancers and other party goers talking and laughing
together in the candlelight. This had been her goal:
just to see the party, the clothes, the young men. She
squealed when she felt a hand on her shoulder and
turned to face a tall gentleman with a slim cigar
between his lips. He was wearing the uniform of a
“What have we here?” he said, tossing the cigar away
and smiling. He put both hands on her slim shoulders.
“Lord James,” the girl said, recognizing one of
Europe’s most eligible bachelors who was rumored to be
the lover of a series of beautiful women over the past
decade. He was, in fact, an aging Lothario of some note
and the despoiler of countless young women and not a
few children. He thought of himself as insatiable and
irresistible. He was the old Baron’s only son. He was a
The man raised Angelica’s trembling hand to his lips,
kissed her fingers and said, “Come, this way.” He led
her down a dark path to the first carriage in the rank
and pulled her inside and kissed her mouth firmly,
grasping her buttocks and the back of her head as she
tried to squirm away. The eager man grabbed the silk
garment clinging to the struggling girl’s back, tore it
from her and tossed it out the window, ribbon and all.
The driver saw the flash of white and then the torn
gown float to the ground. He smiled to himself and
scratched at his groin, having planned to wait only
briefly for the silly girl’s return but now content to
wait his turn.
Angelica felt the man’s large hand close over her left
breast and squeeze and then her nipple was pinched
between his fingers as his lips covered hers again and
his tongue pressed into her mouth and his fingers
probed between her legs. She tasted both fear and
tobacco. Her mind whirled as she tried to push her
assailant away. But he was a strong and virile man and
barely recognized her pummeling small fists on his
chest and shoulders or her kicking feet in the enclosed
space. He had enjoyed unsuspecting girls this way many
times and liked it much better when they struggled. He
was already tumescent in anticipation.
The baron’s heir quickly undid his bulging foreflap and
let his overheated cock leap forth. He was a well-hung
man and one who had much practice in the use of his
mighty endowment, taking pride in how many virgins he
conquered and how often he roused them to blubbering
surrender. He pulled the struggling girl up on his lap,
bent to suck one of her pink tits into his mouth and
pulled her down his thighs to meet his throbbing
manhood, which arched up, its glans nearly purple, its
thick shaft pulsing with blood.
Angelica squealed and gasped as she felt the blunt head
of his cock rub along the inside of her thighs, pry
into her folds and then bump against her pulsing lips.
“No, no, don’t, please don’t,” she cried, suddenly
aware of his intent.
He turned his attention to her other breast and nipped
at her tiny tit, lapping it firmly with his tongue
until it hardened and jutted. He grasped her hips and
rotated her pelvis upward slightly, pushing firmly with
his hips and probing with one hand on his heavy cock
until he felt the narrow-lipped portal open as the
girl’s legs were spread widely about his waist. With
his hard and throbbing prick now set at her inner lips,
he got both hands on her buttocks and pulled her to
crushing impalement with a cry of triumph.
“Please, please,’ the girl sobbed as she felt the man’s
cockhead prise open her tender passage. “I beg of you,”
she moaned as he withdrew an inch and then grunted and
pounded two inches deeper, fingers buried in her
buttocks as she arched before him, her eyes wide and
mouth open as his ram stretched her virginal barrier,
and her flesh parted and surrendered to his searing
invasion. She felt at if a heated poker with ramming
He took a deep breath, lifted the girl slightly and
then plunged her down on his upright shaft, tearing
through her maidenhead and sinking his entire thick
member into her immature vagina.
The girl screeched and spasmed on his spear as her
blood began to flow down his cock. He could feel the
warmth and did not want his new breeches soiled so he
lifted her off his ram and let her fall to the floor of
the carriage, sobbing, drawing up her legs. He wiped
his throbbing cock with his big handkerchief and then
dropped in on the mewling girl. “Wipe yourself clean
and get back up here,” he said, “we’ll play a different
game. Be quick about it.”
He pulled her up on his knees with her back to him,
lifted her once more onto his dripping prong and
clamped her to him as he savagely re-entered her
ravaged body. “This is called ride a cockhorse,” he
said gaily as he began at a walking pace, jolting the
young woman up and down on his thick thighs and iron
hard ram. He cupped her small breasts and watched her
hair bounce as he enjoyed her, knowing he could keep
this up almost indefinitely and very pleasurably for
the girl was tight and juicy, her cunt quivering and
grasping on the blood-gorged invader tearing her open
and battering at her womb. He ignored her gasping wails
and weak struggling.
Tiring of that game, the nobleman slid to the far side
of the seat, pulled the girl up beside him, mounted on
his knees behind her young body, bent well over her,
humped vigorously and quickly climaxed, firing several
bolts of his thick sperm into her. When he was spent,
he gave the sobbing youngster three more hard thrusts
and then withdrew from her battered vulva and patted
her bottom, wiping his cock on her thigh.
“Very good, missy,” he said, “well done indeed. I shall
send you more trade.”
He stepped down from the rig, cleaned his flabby cock
with the torn dress, glanced up at the driver who was
studiously looking away and buttoned up his britches.
Off he strode toward the house glowing with light,
whistling a waltz.
The driver, who had listened intently to the rape,
hopped down, opened his codpiece, freed his rigid cock
and stepped into the carriage where girl was rolled
into a small ball on the seat, weeping and sobbing, her
knees to her chin. He knelt on the floor, pulled
Angelica to him, spread her legs and drove his thick
cock up into her hot little cunny without delay. She
squealed weakly. With her limp legs at his sides and
her head lolling listlessly, he held her hips and
enjoyed himself in the nobleman’s spew, ramming into
her again and again, joy and lust mixing in his heart
as her tight vagina massaged his rod. She seemed
insensible but her moonlit beauty kept the man
“Here it comes,” he cried after thirty seconds of rapid
copulation, and fired several ropes of his jism into
her narrow chute. She hardly knew she was being
violated until he yanked his cock out of her and pulled
her head down to make her lick him clean. When he was
satisfied, he hurried back to his place, and the girl
leaned out the door and vomited into the dark.
“This is the one, I’m pretty sure,” said the baron-to-
be. “Hop up there and see if you don’t find the
prettiest little cunt in Christendom.”
Angelica felt the carriage rock and then there was a
large man beside her, his hard hand on her bare leg.
“Come here, my dear,” he said, “come here and kiss me.”
The girl struggled, but the big man was very strong and
his mouth soon mashed hers as his hands explored all of
her bare body. He put her down on the floor between her
silk-clad legs and opened his brocaded codpiece to
produce a sizeable and half-roused penis. He patted the
girl’s cheek. “Suck,” he said.
Angelica shook her head, looking up at the man’s florid
face. He backhanded her, jarring her teeth and again
“No, no,” she cried and he pushed his rigid member into
her mouth and right back to the entrance of her throat.
Angelica gagged several times. The man smiled down at
her and said, “Suck.” He put his big hand about her
slim throat, frightening her.
She swallowed, gasped for breath and then sucked,
sobbing as best she could.
“Use your tongue, bitch,” he said, moving her head back
and forth on his thick rod with his other hand tangled
in her hair, “and be careful about your teeth.”
Angelica thought of biting him, but he was three times
her size so she closed her eyes and sucked as he eased
his grip on her neck.
The man shook her. “Look at me,” he demanded.
The girl opened her mouth widely and tried to say,
“Stop,” but nothing came out, as the huge cock in her
mouth suddenly seemed to swell and gush forth.
“Swallow,” said the big man, leaning back as he jerked
and came again.
When he was satisfied, the big-bellied man wiped his
spent member in the girl’s tresses and heaved himself
out of the carriage. He produced a coin from his
leather purse, tossed it to the gawking driver and
said, “Take this baggage to my rig. It’s the fourth or
fifth one down, has a red crest on the door. Tell my
driver to keep his hands off of her and you do the
The man tugged her forelock and got down from his seat
as the young baron and his friend strode back toward
the house where the party was beginning to break up. He
tugged the limp girl from the carriage, tossed her over
his shoulder, ignored her spitting and coughing, shoved
his middle finger into her pussy and took her down the
row to a fancy carriage sporting a red escutcheon on
“Got some’in for ya,” he said to the driver who was
leaning back and smoking a pipe. “Some’in you ain’
spoze to fuck.”
The driver clambered down, opened the door and watched
as the pale girl was deposited on the tufted leather
seat. “She’s bung hole tight,” said the man dusting his
“That so,” the liveried driver said, knocking his pipe
against the back wheel. He hoisted himself up on the
seat as the other man hurried back to his carriage. He
looked down at the gasping girl and was roused by her
beauty and nakedness. He lifted her limp legs up on his
thighs, freed his quickly swelling manhood and plunged
into her tight-lipped cunny, ripping her open once more
since his manhood was wider than the first three to
violate the weeping virgin. After three tries he found
the right hole and sank his stiff member into her with
a cry of pleasure and relief. He had not enjoyed a
woman for more than two months and he had never had a
girl this young or so lovely.
Grunting steadily the man hurried toward his climax,
mauling the girl’s lush breasts as he banged in and out
of her, rocking the carriage on its springs. When he
came, he cried out, arching his back, and then he
quickly withdrew and climbed up to his seat just as the
fat Lord and his foul lady called for their rig. He
drove to the front of the mansion, hopped down to help
them board, watched as the woman pushed the moaning
girl to the floor and kicked her, and then took them
back to their home, trying to ignore the cries from
At their stately home at the end of a mile-long drive
lined by cedar trees, Lady and Lord Hunrey had their
manservant carry the slight girl up to the front
bedroom and lay her on the bed. “Well,” said the woman
once the servant had bowed himself out of the room, “at
least this one is pretty. What did you pay for her?”
“Not a farthing,” said the man, stripping off his
violet coat and untying his neckcloth. “She’s a gift
from dear old Jimmy.”
The woman fingered the girl’s battered genitals. “She’s
certainly been sorely used.”
“It’s a wonder you didn’t drown her on the way home.”
The woman chuckled. “I’m sure she’d never done that
before. But she’ll soon learn to serve between my
“You can have her tonight,” he said. “I’m off to bed.”
“Who’s warming your blankets tonight? Is it little
“What day is this?” he asked as he picked up his
clothes, took one last look at the bare young woman
spread on the bed, her arm over her eyes, and left the
high-ceilinged room. In his bedroom, the young female
servant assigned to serve him that evening helped him
undress and then sucked him hard and mounted his loins,
forcing herself down on his stumpy member as the Lord
lay back on his pillows.
In the front room, his wife had peeled herself down to
her chemise and was crouched over the girl’s chest, her
knees in the young woman’s armpits. She rubbed her
furry twat against the girls’ belly and then over
Angelica’s ripe breasts and moved a bit higher to lower
her thick-lipped and gaping vulva to the girl’s mouth
and nose. “Now, dear,” she said in a soft and kindly
voice, “lick and suck and use your tongue to explore.”
The vile smell and slimy feel of the woman’s hot and
dripping privates revolted Angelica and she turned her
Lady Hunrey twisted her hand full of the girl’s blonde
hair and pulled her head back where she wanted it,
ignoring her screech of pain. “Lick, you stupid girl,
lick as though your life depended on it for it does.”
She eased herself down on the girl’s face and moved her
hairy hips from side to side, remembering the time she
had suffocated a child this way. She smiled and mashed
down on Angelica’s battered mouth.
Once the woman achieved her climax and flooded
Angelica’s face with her juices, she kissed and lapped
her way down the girl’s smooth body, sucking both
nipples hard and then bringing the youngster it a
writhing climax with her tongue in Angelica’s slit, her
fingers pinching the girl’s tiny clit. Satisfied, she
left Angelica spread on the quilts and went down the
hall to her room where one of the footmen awaited her,
ready if not eager to do his duty toward his vulgar
mistress, his hard cock in his hand.
Meanwhile the servant who had carried the limp girl to
the bedroom returned by way of the back stairs and
slipped silently into the room. He gazed briefly at the
beauty spread before him and licked his lips. He quick
stripped off his shoes and breeches, climbed up between
the girl’s long legs and drove his thick cock into her
tiny folds. She arched and opened her mouth and he
covered it with his lips and pressed his tongue into
Grunting and heaving, the big footman humped the barely
conscious girl until he came, gritting his teeth and
doing his best not to cry out as he filled her with his
thick spew. He left as quietly as he had come, went
back to the servants’ quarters and told two of his
friends what he had been doing. In minutes they were
standing naked at the girl’s bedside, admiring her
beauty before they used her body vigorously, taking
turns in both her mouth and vagina until they were
sated after briefly having at her limp body at the same
time. Twice they tried to invade her anus but gave up
and used her pussy as others had.
In the morning, Lord Hunrey came to the room where
Angelica lay, pulled open the drapes, dragged the limp
girl to the side of the bed and jabbed his thick
morning erection into her. Her eyes popped open and she
gasped as he rutted steadily, squeezing her nipples
between his fingers until she squealed in pain. When he
felt himself about to come, the stout man pulled
himself out of the young girl’s grasp, held his cock in
his hand and spewed his cream on her body in thick
streams. “Damn good,” he said and went to dress for
breakfast. The girl lay horrified, hoping it was but a
Angelica stumbled to the narrow windows and looked down
at the courtyard some twenty feet below. Her mind
refused to deal with what had happened to her as she
stepped up on the still. She could feel the most recent
rapist’s sperm oozing down her belly and dripping from
“Stop,” said a commanding voice behind her and she
almost fell to her death before she grabbed the stone
abutment and stared at the man in her doorway. “Get
down here, girl,” he demanded, pointing toward his
feet. “At once.”
Angelica licked her lips, stepped down and approached
the big man. She stood before him, hands clasped at her
belly and looked up into his deep-set eyes.
He lifted her chin and said, “Name?”
She blinked. “Angelica Per—”
“We shall call you Angel,” he said. “Why are you
She shook her head.
“Come,” he said, taking her hand, and he walked her
down a long hall and two flights of stairs to the
female servants’ quarters, found a very old woman
sewing in a rocking chair, spun the girl before the
crone and said, “Dress her, no, bathe her first and
then dress her.” He left, saying over his shoulder,
“She’s called Angel.”
The old woman pursed her lips and rang a small bell.
After she was roughly washed and dressed as a house
servant, Angelica was put to work clearing the scullery
and mopping the tile floors. In mid-afternoon she got
her first meal in thirty-six hours and ate slowly and
carefully, trying to figure out where she was and what
had happened to her. After washing the dishes and
taking care of the dogs, she reported to the old woman
in the rocking chair and was sent to mop the chapel
floor and dust the pews and statue bases.
Angelica worked her way up one aisle and near the altar
rail found a man in a black cassock kneeling in prayer
before several rows of small candles. She mopped
carefully around his feet and he became aware of her
and quickly stood.
“Who are you?” demanded the young priest of the
ethereally beautiful girl he saw in the light coming
through the stained glass windows. “I haven’t seen you
“They call me Angel,” the girl said. “Can you help me?
I’ve been stolen, kidnapped, last night, and sorely
“Kidnapped,” said the man, brushing back the girl’s
corn-silk hair and admiring her lovely face and
beautiful eyes. “Who would have kidnapped you?”
She shook her head. “Earl James, the baron’s son, and
then some people, the ones who live here in the big
house. Please help me.”
“Yes, yes,” the prelate said, feeling a stirring in his
loins, “of course. Come with me.”
Angelica set aside her mop and followed the black-clad
man into the small sacristy where he plunked himself
down in a chair, spread his knees, hiking his cassock
up in his lap and pulled the girl down before him, his
lust fully inflamed. “We must pray,” he intoned.
As the man used both hands to free his surging member,
Angelica squirmed away, leapt to her feet and ran for
the door, yanked it open and dove into the belly of the
bluff choir master who clasped her to him and brought
her back to the priest, raising at eyebrow at the bared
cock sticking up out of his clerical garb.
“This yours?” he asked, shaking the mewling girl.
“In a way,” said the man with a smile, “I was about to
hear her confession.”
The big man pushed Angelica down and stood behind her
while the priest buried his hands in her blonde hair
and brought her mouth to his cockhead. The girl had
only sucked and licked him for a minute when he nearly
jumped from his chair as his sperm roared through his
member and into her mouth, leaking out and down her
chin as she gagged and squirmed.
“That was quick,” said the big man, helping the girl to
her feet and handing her a dark kerchief he took from
his sleeve. “Come with me.”
Since he had a painfully tight grip on her arm,
Angelica followed meekly back through the chapel and up
to the choir stall where the man sat her on a bench and
then knelt before her and produced an enormous male
member from his rich clothing. His thick cock was well
over eight inches in length and some two inches wide.
Frightened by the huge thing, Angelica tried to pull
free, crying, “No, no, no.”
The choirmaster laughed as he pulled the young girl to
his juddering prick and drove it up into her immature
body, impaling her. Thought he, she’s on the stake, now
to roast her. She squealed and bounced on his shaft,
and he held her buttocks and savaged her until he was
satisfied and she was limp. He was by far the cruelest
of all the men who had used the slight girl and took
nearly fifteen minutes to spend himself in her lush
body. Then he wiped his bloodstained member on her
coarse skirt and sat beside her, one hand still
grasping a lovely breast.
“Can you sing, girl?” he asked after pulling her head
around to face him and shaking her a bit. Her beauty
was, he decided, astounding, almost unworldly.
“Sing,” she said, blinking, “yes, I like to sing.” She
hurt all over.
“Sing me a lullaby,” he said.
She did so, very sweetly but with little volume.
“Very good,” he said, “now sing this” and he roared out
a long scale both up and down the notes.
She did her best, faltering twice. Each time she
failed, he pinched her nipple.
“Louder,” he demanded.
She stood and tried again with his big hands on her
boyish hips, and he nodded and patted her back. “Nice,
very nice, but this hair. It will have to go, and we
need some boy’s clothes. Come along.”
An hour later Angelica’s hair was cut so short that the
back of her neck was bare. The old crone cackled over
her blonde curls saying she would get a pretty penny
for them. The girl now wore wooden clogs, soiled knee
britches, a baggy sleeved shirt and a short jacket or
jerkin. She was a very pretty boy with a very sore
The choirmaster hauled her back to the small organ and
taught her one song, made her go over it repeatedly
until the girl could sing the whole thing loudly and
clearly without understanding a word of the Latin. By
the time they were done, a dozen real boys had appeared
and taken their seats, listening to the newcomer. The
master introduced her as “Andy” and said she could sing
contralto and soprano but so far only knew the one
song. They tried it together with Angelica taking the
solo parts, and the master smiled and clapped when they
were done. Angel, thought he, had a heavenly voice.
At the end of the hour-long choir practice the young
priest and his wrinkled superior were waiting for the
girl and the choirmaster. “What have you done to her?”
demanded the lean man with the pock-marked face who had
made her suck his cock behind the altar.
“Is this a girl?” asked the monsignor. “Shameful.”
“She’s, I mean he’s now in the choir.” The choirmaster
held the girl’s arm very tightly.
“I think not,” said the young priest. “We must take her
to Lord Hunrey and settle this.”
“In fact,” said a clear voice, “I am here, at my
prayers. What is going on? Who is this boy?”
Angelica cowered away from the foul Lord, hiding behind
the stout choirmaster. The older priest pulled her out
of hiding. “Is this one of your servants?” he asked the
lord of the manor.
The man grasped Angelica’s face and turned her head
from side to side. “Yes,” he said, “I suppose she is.
But she had long, beautiful hair.”
“We want her, to school her,” said the monsignor with a
sly smile for the young priest had told him how well
the girl had served him.
“Nonsense,” said the choirmaster, waving his arms. “She
has a fine voice.”
Angelica stepped back as the men argued and
gesticulated. She eased behind a curtain of one of the
confessionals and squatted up on the small seat,
holding her knees and her breath in the dark, shaking
“Where the hell is she?” cried the young priest.
“Now you’ve done it, lost her by damn,” yelled Lord
“She can’t have gone far,” said the choirmaster and the
four of them quickly searched the pews and then headed
out into the halls. When it had been quiet for a few
minutes, Angelica tiptoed to the side door and let her
self out into the sunshine only to find that two
choirboys were there, playing a game with a small
She grabbed one by the arm and turned him toward her.
“Can you hide me, help me?” she begged.
‘What wrong?” he asked, surprised.
“Wait a minute,” said the other boy, who was a year
older, “did you hear her. That’s a girl.” He spun
Angelica toward him. “Aren’t you?”
She nodded. “But I’m in trouble.”
“We’ll be in trouble if we help you,” said the older
boy. “I’m going home.” He ran off without even a glance
The younger boy, who was thirteen, three years younger
than Angelica, took her hand and they went in the other
direction, hurrying. Behind the stables they stopped
next to a dung heap. “You can hide in there, up in the
hay, until it gets dark,” the boy said.
“Can’t you take me home with you?” she asked, a tear on
her cheek, her heart beating fast.
“I’m just a servant, a laborer,” he said, “my family
“That’s what I am,” said the girl. “Please.”
He made a face but took her hand and they ran for the
gate and down the lane, across a field and by a stone
wall they stopped to get their breath.
“I’m Gerland,” said the boy when he could talk.
“My name’s Angelica,” the girl said and she hugged the
boy and kissed his mouth. “Thank you, thank you.”
The surprised and embarrassed boy kissed her back
briefly and then took her hand and walked with her to
his family’s rude cottage.
His mother took one look at her and said, “That’s no
more a boy than my nanny goat is. She can’t stay here.
Your brother and father would be all over her.”
“I’ve no place to go,” the girl said. “Please.”
“Take her out and get her dirty. And girl,” said the
woman sternly, “keep your mouth closed and your eyes
down. You’re much too pretty.”
That night, after a simple meal that was eaten without
any talk, Angelica and the boy who had saved her went
off to his bed, disrobed wordlessly and crawled under
the worn quilt, avoiding each others eyes.
“I’ve never been with a girl,” whispered Gerland as
their warm bodies rubbed together and he felt himself
“I understand,” she said, grasping his hard member and
kissing his mouth, surprised by the size of the lad’s
male member. “I’ll do it.” She slipped her knee over
his hip and drew him to her and then lay back with the
smaller boy atop her, pleased that she had finally done
the act by her own will and gratified by the way he
felt inside her. Their bodies meshed and coupled and
their hips and pelvises began to move together, at
first gently but soon with great passion.
When virginal Gerland came the first time, Angelica
covered his mouth with hers and hugged him tightly.
Before they slept they had enjoyed each other five
times. And in the cool of morning, before the cock even
crowed, they had pleasured each other three more times
and lay sighing and spent in each other’s arms.
The next day, Gerland’s mother wrapped an old skirt
about Angelica’s waist and found a position for the
girl at a scholar’s large home as a scullery maid. She
was to get no pay but would have a dry place to sleep
and two meals each day.
On her third day working in the big house, the scholar
became aware of the beautiful young woman’s presence
and brought her to an open window to look at her more
Angelica stood passively as he peeled open her shirt
and caressed her firm young breasts, a smile on his
lips as he fingered her tits. He took her to his bed,
pounded her with his hard cock until she screeched with
pleasure, found great relief in her when he climaxed
and then sent for the village dressmaker while Angelica
enjoyed a good meal and some red wine, the inside of
her bruised thighs rubbed red.
The man chatted with the girl amiably and was pleased
to learn that she could read but had done very little
writing. When they finished their meal, the scholar
smoked his pipe and pondered what to do with the lovely
girl with the very short blonde hair. He decided he
would pass her off as a distant cousin and keep her to
warm his bed. He was a widely traveled man, but he was
sure he had never seen a more beautiful female in his
fifty-four years. Then her brought her onto his lap and
In her second month as the learned man’s concubine, a
fancy dress was made for the girl, and he took Angelica
to a ball at the mansion of Lord Hunrey. When she
recognized the stone-walled house, the girl recoiled
and begged to remain in the carriage, but the scholar
insisted and in they went together.
Angelica spotted her aunt and one of her cousins on the
far side of the ballroom and quickly made her way out
on the patio, remembering it was where she had accosted
her less than three months previously. Before she could
get back inside and large hand gripped her shoulder.
“I do not believe we have met properly,” said the man
she turned to face. He was old and wrinkled with an
unruly mane of white hair and purple spots on his bony
hands. Angelica knew him at once and bowed deeply. He
lifted her chin and smiled.
“What’s your name, pretty one?” asked the aged Baron.
She swallowed and managed to croak out, “Angelica,
“And whose little flower are you?” he asked.
“Yours,” she said with a small smile.
“Then come, Miss Angelica, and you may dine at my right
hand tonight. Won’t that cause some tongue wagging?”
A month later the eighty-year-old Baron married the
sixteen-year-old beauty in the small church where she
had been forced to join the choir. After the joyous
celebrating, on their wedding night, the Baron asked
his lovely bride what present he could give her before
she gave him her wonderful body.
“Banish your son, James,” she said at once.
“Eh?” said her eager husband for despite his years, his
child bride in her thin chemise had aroused him, as he
had not been roused for nearly a generation.
“At the celebration this afternoon,” said Angelica as
she peeled the robe from her husband and kissed his
thin chest and his hairy belly, “he pawed me and
whispered in my ear that he would rape me again.”
“Again, again?” The man climbed up on his high bed and
held up the covers for his lovely wife, his old pintle
Angelica let her gown flutter to the floor and stood
before her husband completely bare. “Yes, sire,” she
said quietly, “again, for he deflowered me very crudely
not long ago and now thinks to use me whenever he
chooses.” She climbed up beside the old man and let him
hug her to him.
“I’m sorry, very sorry. I will protect you. Where shall
we send him?
“The Portuguese colonies in the New World,” she said,
“I have heard they are very steamy.”
“Hm,” said the Baron after kissing his young wife and
fondling her firm buttocks.
“Perhaps China or Burma but far, far away. I’ve heard
of a place called Goa.” She grasped her husband’s
member gently and began to stroke it.
“You shall have it,” he said, pulling her under him and
spreading her legs. “You may have whatever your heart
desires.” He entered her and felt completely satisfied
for the first time in years. None of the dozens of
mistresses he had used in the past half century gave
him half the pleasure this young girl elicited.
And they lived happily ever after, but when Angelica
became the Baroness after her husband died in her arms
two years later the first thing she did was send out
men to find a certain choirboy named Gerland who, she
remembered, had pleased her five times almost without