byJack T. Ladd©

(Second part of ‘The House of Sophie De Frontenac’)

The doorbell rang out its dull alarm, rousing Sophie from her manipulative thoughts on how to remove her servant, Abigail, from the arms of her newfound love, and take him into her own arms. She watched jealously as Abigail scurried out of her room to attend to whoever was calling.

She was feeling almost content, the sex-scent of the recently departed young man was still upon her, she savoured it along with the emptiness within her, her hunger, not yet returned. She knew it would, and soon. She looked forward to it with a mixture of dread and excitement. Sex was her opium. It dulled her to the reality of her life, a life she had chosen willingly and indeed took great pleasure from, but she always wanted more. More than the men that she knew so briefly could give her. Always more. She felt again that knot harden inside her and twist. She hated Abigail her love. Hated her easy ability to love.

She slid her hands down over the round softness of her body and across the dampness of her sex. Then she wrapped the silk dressing gown tightly around herself impatiently, almost as if the thin material could form a barrier against her uncomfortable insights. She brushed aside her thoughts. She was not weak, not like Abigail, and she would not be a fool like her either. Love was for fools.

“Mistress, Mr Cornwallis is here, and asks permission to see you” Abigail announced, returning from answering the door.

“Mr Cornwallis? At this hour?” Sophie was surprised, George Cornwallis, her husband’s friend rarely called unannounced.

He was such an aloof old man, in his sixties and seemingly uninterested in her or her charms, and that irritated her. She had no desire to seduce him of course, he was far too old and ugly, but most men she knew, old or young, she could mould to her whims and bidding. Not so George. She wondered nastily if he maybe preferred boys.

She disliked him and rightly suspected the feeling was mutual, though he was always far too careful to allow his feelings to be easily read. She treated him with respect however. And he was never less that courteous to her. He was a powerful politico who had some serious contacts that her husband valued.

She was not properly dressed to see him, she knew, but then, that might just give her an advantage over the old goat. She might be dressed in a way that just might disarm him. She smiled inwardly and decided to see if he could succumb.

“Show him in”

Abigail eyes opened in surprise, “Mistress?”

“Show him in… now please!” Sophie repeated to the shocked girl, who then nodded and turned to do as she was instructed.

“Mr Cornwallis” Abigail announced with a little embarrassment as she showed him into Sophie’s bedchamber. before quickly retreating out of the room.

George Cornwallis was only slightly surprised at being sent into her bedchamber, the antics of this despicable woman no longer really shocked him. Nevertheless, when she turned around to greet him, the sight of her obviously nude body, barely hidden by her flimsy gown, made him draw in a slight gasp of shock.

The silk gown clung to her form like a second skin. Her long hair was down and tousled, resting heavily and luxuriously upon her shoulders. The dark almond of her eyes challenged him openly, while the hint of a smile played upon her lips, daring him to look where he should not.

But he could not prevent a quick and admiring glance sweep over her body, his almost automatic male reaction to her, annoying him even as he did so, for he was instantly aware it weakened his position, as he also knew was her plan. He cursed him self silently, for she had wrong footed him again.

Sophie did not miss his glance, however quick he was to replace it with a neutral expression. She had seen it clearly, and it was real. Once more she felt that sense of empowerment. So, he was a man after all. She saw her advantage and pressed it home.

“George, such a pleasant surprise!” She said as she walked over to him, leaning against him provocatively as she kissed each of his cheeks, making sure as she did so that the soft press of her breasts made themselves felt upon his body.

He responded stiffly and formally, trying desperately to ignore that other stiffness springing unbidden within his pants. He was suddenly confused, shocked at his bodies response and at the same time unsure in that very peculiar and English way, about how to respond to such intimate French customs.

“Madam De Frontenac, always a pleasure” he told her with a cold smile and in such a way that she knew she would clearly recognise as false.

Sophie took the barbed compliment at face value and offered him a seat, which he then, with some relief, took. She sat down opposite him, crossing her legs and allowing the dressing gown to slip slightly open, allowing a generous portion of her long legs to be visible, though this time, his eyes did not waver from her face.

“Madam,” George began, his tone serious. “Tomorrow you leave for Tunisia?”

“Yes, for four months?”

“No, madam, not for four months, for as long as you like”

Sophie was surprised. “What do you mean?”

George looked at her, fixing her with his cold eyes. “I am offering you a solution, Madam, and you may take or leave it as you wish, for you to leave these shores for a climate more suited to your, ahem, well, desires, shall we say?”

Now it was the turn of Sophie to look surprised. “A solution?” She said a little confused.

“I don’t approve of you or your carnal activities, Madam, and in truth, I do not really care. What I do care about however, is when your activities impinge on my business, which they are now in danger of doing.” He paused to drive home the seriousness of what he was saying. “So, in deference to my friend, your husband, I want you to leave England, live wherever you like, just as long as it is not here”

Sophie stared at him in open fury. “How dare you speak to me in such a way!” Sophie rose from her chair raising her hand to slap this insolent man and brought it down with as much force as she could - but he grasped her wrist in a flash and held her immobile, inches from his face.

She spat at him then, the white spittle running down his face. “Let go of me!” She hissed, squirmed ineffectually against his surprising strength.

He growled at her, the menace clear in his voice. She stopped struggling, struck by the malevolence suddenly revealed.

“Madam, don’t underestimate me, if you choose to stay, you will, I assure you, lose everything! But, take my offer, and I will pay you well, you will want for nothing, just agree to do as I suggest!”

Sophie was not listening, and her fury erupted. “Fuck you, you bastard!” Sophie spat at him again, making him blink as her saliva splashed into his eyes.

He hit her then, hard, his fist clenched. The wet sound of bone on flesh echoed sickeningly around the room as Sophie’s head snapped back from the force of the vicious blow. She fell to the floor, her gown falling open.

Cornwallis felt no pity for her, his hatred boiled over as he lost control, his lust inflamed, he felt himself consumed. Reaching down, he grabbed a fistful of her long hair, twisting the soft strands around his knarled hand, violently pulling her head back up and into his face.

“Fuck me, eh? Well, you bitch, that’s a damned good idea!” he snarled at her, pulling her by the hair towards the bed.

Lifted off the floor by her hair, hard and sharp, caused her to cry out from the pain, as he threw her down upon the bed.

As she fell, a well-aimed kick lashed out, but he knocked her leg away easily. He was too strong she realised, a cold fear enveloping her. She felt hot blood, her blood, trickle down her face, the bitter taste was also in her throat, as she saw him unbuttoning his fly.

Afraid now, she made a rush to escape, but again and without mercy, his fist knocked her a stunning blow back onto the bed. Pain blurred her senses, but despite this, she could feel his rough old hands upon her, twisting her like a rag doll, just as easily but without any hint of gentleness, over on to her front. Turning her head back to look at him, she could see that he already had his cock free of his pants, the thick dark stalk jutting eagerly from his pants, its head wet and glistening, hard and erect.

Her nakedness, designed to intimidate, had now been turned against her she realised. She was at his mercy. His face was fixed, an awful determination upon his features, his eyes did not see her and could only see his lust, his desire to subjugate this woman who had dared to challenge him. He was beyond reasoning, far beyond her power now, as his lust took him over. She knew she could not stop him from raping her. He was too strong, too determined, as the blood in her throat reminded her and the pain in her broken nose knifed through her.

He looked down at her then, and snarled as he saw her look, still defiant, still mocking him. He slapped his hand across her face, his fingers leaving rough red welts upon her cheek. Her face now hidden, he took her hips and pulled her roughly up to meet his hard erection as he stood at the side of her bed. He shoved the wet and leaking head of his cock at her small anus, ignoring her sex intently and deliberately. She deserved nothing but pain he had decided.

Sophie tried to escape the startling and bludgeoning attack upon her ass, desperately trying to withdraw away from the blunt hard mass hammering now at her tight opening. She clenched herself hard against its entry to her, and he pushed vainly against her, unable to penetrate. Denied, he became ever more furious in his attempts, pulling her to him, pushing his cock at her.

Unable to push himself into her, he angrily thrust one hand down, hard along her sex, which he found still moist from her recent congress, and pushed two, then three fingers deep inside her. He laughed in an ugly manner as he felt her writhe and scream against this sudden new intrusion.

She tried to escape his hand and fingers raping her, but instead found herself responding hotly and wetly to his probing fingers. Despite herself, a groan of pleasure escaped her lips. He heard it and laughed.

“You really are a slut!” he shouted at her in triumph as he felt her hot juices flow over his fingers as she now pressed against him.

Hearing him, she caught herself, cursing her own body for responding to him so openly. She struggled to avoid him then, using all her strength to escape. But he held her contemptuously with an almost superhuman strength - the strength of anger and lust.

Then he thrust one now wet and slick index finger into her anus, deeply working her open, using her own wetness to do so. Then two fingers penetrated her as she cried out once more at the new harsh pain. But it was as nothing compared to the onslaught of his thick cock, which now pushed its way into inexorably and insistently into her, stretching her with its hard demanding intrusion.

Sophie fought as best she could, but it only caused more pain, and she relaxed then, accepting the inevitable, trying to avoid further physical damage to her body from this cruel rape. She promised him her terrible revenge. But all thoughts of revenge vanished as a blinding pain shot through her as he burst past her resistance, burying himself fully in her burning entrails.

Sophie screamed - burying her face into the pillow, grasping the sheets, biting and tearing at the expensive cloth, anything to distract her mind from the terrible pain in her ass as he drove into her, fucking her viciously.

Cornwallis felt his cock slip past her sphincter at last, heard her scream satisfyingly at his final and deep penetration. He felt her spasm around his shaft as he drove deeply into her, uncaring of the agony his cock was inducing. He waited only for a long second, luxuriating in the feeling of the tight ring of heat around his desperately hard penis, now at last fully and deeply within her.

Then he began to move, began to fuck her as he felt she deserved to be fucked, hard and without any mercy, feeling or guilt. The bitch deserved this he felt, and he thrust into her, hard and violently, slamming into her tortured anus, her cries rising above the slapping of his balls against her lovely but now painfully abused ass.

Faster and faster, in frenzy now he threw himself at her, wanting to split her, tear her apart with his cock. He pulled her onto him, again and again, meeting his thrusts as he fucked her deeply and without feeling. He could feel the growing expansion in his cock as he built towards his climax, his balls tightening under him as he came closer to release.

Then he came quickly and in a shout of release, his cock jumping inside her as he burst deep inside, flooding her, her dry passage now suddenly slick with his cum, as he continued to move himself in her, fucking her further as he softened slowly.

Sophie endured the terrible rape, the pain, the humiliation, what else could she do but endure? She would survive this. The pain ravaged her, tore at her as he invaded her entrails, but then, at last she had felt him erupt within her, felt the stinging sensation of his cum now sooth her ravaged passage as his thrusting slowed, and he softened at last, falling from her. The pain remained as he withdrew and she curled up into a ball, hugging her body to herself, once more her own.

She looked up at him with stinging defiance, he may have had her, raped her, but he had not cowed her.

They stared at each other for a long second, before he released her, putting himself back inside his pants slowly, smugly, as if nothing had happened.

Sophie spun around then, her fury and shame, impotent against him, she knew his threat was in deadly earnest. She really had no option, but she would not give him the pleasure of an easy victory, over her body maybe, but not over of her!

“Get out!” She whispered to him, her fury tightly suppressed. “Get out of here!”

If he was frightened of her, he gave no clue. “I have already made arrangements, we have no need to meet again, good day to you, Madam!” With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving her to her fury and humiliation

Abigail sat in the darkness of the spy-room where she had watched secretly the rape of her mistress. She could have summoned help. She could have saved her. But she didn’t and she smiled.

(Thank you for reading this story, I do welcome any comments, chapter three will follow soon..)

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