Rue de Reves

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A visit to a New Orleans mansion.
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Girochen
Girochen
153 Followers

I originally wrote this for a Halloween contest a couple years ago. But I published a different story, Movie Night instead. This is kind of surreal in a way, and I have been tweaking it now ever since. I thought I should just freaking publish it, so here it is.

It is a single effort and I hope you all like it.

*****

I arrived at #1 Rue de Reves, the street of dreams. This was where my life would change forever though I didn't know it at the time. It was late May 1743 in New Orleans, New France. I remember that Jean-Baptiste was succeeded by the Marquis de Vaudreuil as the Governor of the territory. I was a young man, but had been making my name known about town as a shrewd businessman and dalliant. It seemed the women could not resist the more rustic ways I presented, passing on the powdered wigs and excessive makeup. To be clear, I was a rogue, a scoundrel, and I took advantage of the ladies without mercy. Women, in those days, had no defense against a man such as myself, who contrived to be alone with them.

The address was given to me by an associate and he had assured me that the welcome I received would be unworldly. A strange but exciting turn of phrase to be sure. I wore a russet colored outfit, the standard three piece style of the day, justacorp, vest and breeches all reaching to the knee with stockings, and boots that reached almost to the knee, my personal affectation. I also carried my sword cane and a two shot derringer in my right sleeve.

The door opened and a servant stood waiting, "I am Sir Haughton, Ralph de Haughton." I said and he bowed me in. He took me to the drawing room, but along the way I saw a young woman being led up the stairs. She looked of age, but was dressed in just a night shift and bare legs, attractive bare legs, her buttocks pressing against the fabric as she climbed the stairs. It was quite enticing and I stopped to observe until she was out of sight. As we reached the drawing room, he indicated a coat and cane rack just inside the door. I slid my cane in but kept my justacorps for now, though the heat would probably force it off me soon.

The style of the room was very modern, with the delicate appearing furniture legs and small occasional tables holding lamps and other things. Persian rugs, a bowl of candies, a box with an lovely hunting scene carved onto the wood of the top. The fire was burning lightly but it was plenty warm in the room.

A side door, hitherto undiscovered, opened and three ladies entered the room followed by one who was a bit older, perhaps their mother or aunt. The ladies wore dress in an older style without the annoying hoops and with corsets not quite as rigid as the current style. They did, however, have bare decollete showing attractive cleavage. The three went to different points in the room, one sitting, another pouring an aperitif while the third poked the fire, increasing it's warmth. The matron came to me and offered her hand. I pressed it to my lips and handed her to a seat.

"You will have to excuse the warmth," she said, "I find I must needs keep it warm for health reasons."

"Of course madame," I said and indicated my justacorps, "If you would not mind..."

She nodded and I removed it then hung it. Her three companions were interesting, one a redhead, stoking the fire, the one sitting was a sable beauty, while the blond brought forward a tray with the glasses of aperitif, one of which she gave the matron, another to me and then the other girls. Then she said, "Sir, may I introduce Madame Charice Beauvier. We are her daughters, Firenza," she indicated the redhead, "Demetria and I am Normanti. Might I say that your reputation precedes you."

"Please, sit down, Sir Ralph," said the matron, "May I call you that?"

"Certainement, madame," I replied as I sat. I tasted the aperitif, it was very good, though of a strange taste.

"Let us be familiar, please, call us by our given names," she said.

"You are most kind, Charice," I replied.

"We are given to understand that you have extensive holdings and business ventures in the area and have grown quite adept at acquiring more," said Demetria as she shifted to sit next to me on the settee. I could smell the aroma of her perfume, light, airy and reminiscent of midnight beneath the stars. I turned to look at her and her lips seemed to glisten in the light, her skin alabaster, her eyes brown beneath the long lashes and well defined eyebrows.

"This is true," I said, still wondering why I was called here.

Firenza sat upon a chair nearby and said, "We also heard that you have quite the reputation as a ladies man," she said, her full breasts moving with every word. Her red lips were bright in my eyes as she talked and her green eyes were warm and inviting. The scent of cinnamon wafted into my nose and senses as she spoke.

"Well, I have had some success in that area, though a gentleman doesn't like to brag," I said.

Normanti was sitting as well, another chair appearing not far in front of me, "Do you find us attractive, monsieur?" she asked. Her blue eyes to seemed to try and drink me in as she asked the question and I found myself strangely excited though I usually had far better control.

"Oui, belle, I find your presence sublime," I said and they giggled.

"You find us morally pure?" asked Firenza humorously, referring to my use of sublime.

"Well, another accepted definition is a high degree of excellence," I said.

"I think he is acceptable mother," said Normanti, "It remains to be seen if he can go the distance. If so, we will have gained a powerful ally."

"Then let us test him," Charice said, "Monsieur, if you would follow me." she stood and kicked back her drink. I finished mine and followed. The girls were at my side, first one then another, shifting in and out until I stopped their movement by taking Demetria's hand and placing it on my arm. We walked down a spiral stairs to a basement area. Demetria pushed me against the wall at the bottom and kissed me, taking her time and enticing my tongue to play. She was replaced by Normanti, then Firenza. Finally, without realizing it, Charice was at my mouth and I had removed her clothes. I too was naked and we were in a different room. This room contained a raised platform with a mattress, like a central altar with a bed atop it.

I was confused, I don't remember disrobing nor being disrobed. The three girls were also disrobed. I felt the excitement of pre-coitus as well, my penis erect, my skin flushed. Charice caught my chin with her hand and turned me to her. "Pick one. You will have us all if you can." she said. "If you cannot, you will have failed and will no longer be, well, anything." and she waved her hand toward a pile on the floor. Where she indicated, there was a desiccated corpse, nearly nothing left. I watched as Demetria pushed it with her foot and it slid into a hole to drop from sight, then shortly after, from my mind.

Firenza was before me and I felt my body take her in my arms. We ascended the small stairs to the elevated bed and I lay her down. Her body was pristine, unblemished. her arms and legs bare of hair, while her underarms and groin were covered with thick curly red. I stroked her legs, long and silky smooth and moved around to her side. She spit on her hand and grasped my member as I discovered her secrets. She had sensitive spots, where a man would not normally go, the bottom of her rib cage and the backs of her knees. I played as she stroked and her labia distended. She leaned up and took me in her mouth as I spread her lips and smelled the aroma of her flesh revealed to me, like cinnamon spice on fire. She lifted her groin, flopping her shoulders to the bed as I stimulated her more heavily then inserted my fingers.

"Do you like that, little one?" I asked and she growled a yes. "I feel you react, your juices flowing as I touch your intimate parts. Tell me what you want, cherie. Tell me how it feels."

She was shaking her head from side to side now and I pulled her leg to my far side and knelt between her legs. Her juices ran down from her pussy and her hips lifted again. I held it up, my other hand beneath her ass, then I leaned forward and took her mini-cock in my mouth. It was small, not even an inch, but I found that women love the stimulation. She began to buck and had her first orgasm as I licked her. Her taste was unlike anything I'd tasted before, similar to the smell, it was like cinnamon that had been burned. She seemed to shrink upon herself slightly and I pushed my thumb into her anus. She cried out, her hands grabbing balls of sheeting and blanket as I teased her body. When she was close, I lowered her to the level of my cock and pushed myself into her warm wet folds.

I could almost feel the excitement in the room like a palpable pressure, adding to my excitement. I looked at Normanti and said, "You are next," then I splurged into Firenza as she bucked in her second orgasm.

I released her and she scurried off the pedestal. I dropped lightly in front of Normanti. I grabbed her and lifted, carrying her up the stairs. I didn't set her down. The scent of water and feel of steam enveloped me as I let my hands wander over her body. Her hips moved beneath my hands until she was writhing like one of the Arabian dancers. I tasted her breasts and licked her neck. She moaned beneath the onslaught and I could smell her excitement, a clean womanly scent, with the hint of salt water and a hot spring. I pushed her down to my member and she sucked me until I has hard again, taking me into her throat with each motion. I lay upon my back and pulled her sex to my face. I sucked her pussy until she could not continue on my cock. Again, my thumb went into an ass, her ass, and she orgasmed. I licked her leaking juices and felt my energy surge. I lifted and turned her around, impaling her on my member. I slapped her ass and said, "Ride me, move your ass and make me cum," She began to move and I assisted then grabbed her beautiful breasts and pulled her nipples, pinched and kneaded them until she was moving like a maniac atop me. I pinched her mini-cock and she cried out as she orgasmed, her pussy squeezing and pumping me until I joined her. She climbed off me slowly and Demetria was there.

"You will not master me so easily, monsieur," she said and I simply grabbed her by the hair and took her mouth with mine.

"I am already your master, cherie, feel it inside you, you want me to take you," I said and she moaned as I pushed her head to my cock. On her hands and knees I took her mouth and she returned me to firm. Her excitement smelled of the ancient night, pleasant molds and the loam smell on a calm evening. My touch on her sex told me she was more than ready. I moved behind her and simply drove inside her. She cried out, a howl of pleasure as she took her pleasure and I drove her higher and higher. She came again and her pussy began to feel like a soup, so I pulled from her and pushed against her anus. She tried to crawl away, but I grabbed her hips and pushed until I was in. I pounded her ass until she screamed again and the pulsing drove me to orgasm. She collapsed on the bed and I went to Charice.

I hadn't looked closely at her, but like her daughters, her body was firm and youthful. I led her to the bed and laid her on her back. I took her with my fingers first, three inside her, I found that spot that drives a woman wild and rubbed it as my heel pressed on her slightly larger clitoris. She sucked my member as I rubbed her and was much better controlled than the others, sucking through her own orgasm. I fucked her mouth like it was a pussy through two of her orgasms. Then I spread her legs straight to the side and plumbed her depths. Her chestnut brown hair rocked with every stroke and I did not spare her the hard riding she deserved. I felt stronger as we passed her third orgasm and she began to beg quietly.

"Cum in me, grant me your seed," she said, her eyes rolled up and her body spasming. I felt it coming from far, far away. Like an avalanche rolling inevitably toward culmination. Her body began to shake again and she flopped beneath my driving piston like force. She came again, in a rictus of paralysis, near death as I rose and then exploded inside her, painting her insides with my cum. Her breath was a loud sucking of life as I spasmed into her.

She was mine, they were mine. I didn't know how I knew, but I knew. I had made them mine, and I was different. I looked around. The chamber was a ritual chamber. There was one spot for Charice open. I released her and sent her there. She lowered herself upon the protruding carved penis. Each of them sat now, their pussies' speared by the structure. A light, below the spectrum seen by humans pulled from them and climbed the wall until they met at the top of the chamber.

Then, like the forming of a stalactite, a drop of not water formed on the end of the little nipple on the ceiling. It released a drip that fell and was caught upon my tongue. Every cell of my body became instantly rigid. I stood, back arched as my erection grew again. Another drop and my balls rose, then the third and every cell was ready to orgasm. The final drop and I came, four spurts, each striking one of the girls. They were transformed into writhing beings of pure orgasmic pleasure as we all came.

I woke up on the pedestal, my four sexual vampires around me. Their bodies young, their purpose mine. I would have them long after my contemporaries died. Demetria became the new madame, my favorite from the beginning. It was a time of great growth in the Americas and we took as we wanted then. Living still, these centuries later, the riches of my generational family grown large, the bones beneath the house still there. We take someone each month. There are many, runaways, the homeless, people that have given up on life, those who want to be more, but inevitably fail. The mystic number for my kind is five. But ours is not a life for the timid. If we do not master our victims, they will master us and we will become their thralls.

So, if you receive an invitation to visit the Street of Dreams, written in fancy script on paper that is equally outdated, run away, run very fast. Or are you brave enough to risk your very soul?

Girochen
Girochen
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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 7 years ago
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Henry Derringer had not even been born in 1743. Just a suggestion.

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