The Diary of Jewel Delacroix Ch. 04

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Jewel continues to document her story.
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Part 4 of the 31 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 11/15/2019
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Before we begin here are the usual disclaimers...this is porn...you must be over 18 to read this. If not, go away and come back when you are old enough. If you are old enough and this style of erotica isn't to your liking, then go find some erotica that is. You're an adult, life is short, find porn you like and read that instead...but if this is a style you enjoy, then feel free to comment and provide constructive criticism and feedback. I need to grow as an author and honest constructive criticism is always welcome.

*****

Jewel retired to her salon and sat at her desk. She enjoyed the time spent alone, without prying eyes, or lessons, or duties. She set her diary down and once again took her pen in hand...

Dear Diary,

Flying into Allegoria was like flying over a picture post card. Located somewhere to the north and west of Greece, and touching the Aegean, Adriatic, and Black Seas, the azure waters and beautiful landscape was so unreal to me after the flatness and wide open skies of Minnesota it was difficult to take it all in. My sister Jenny had the window seat and had a better view but I could still make out some of the scenery. The country had started out tiny; the guidebook I had downloaded on line said there originally was only two major cities, and several small towns and villages, inside a large long valley and surrounded by mountains and high hills providing relative isolation. The country had been barely 100 miles across no matter what direction you went. Then, after the 2nd Great European war following the economic collapse and the 2nd great depression the country expanded. Conquering, liberating and swallowing up failed countries and fallen governments. Today Allegoria was some form of "modified parliamentary constitutional monarchy" whatever that meant, with a noble class and a commoner/subject class.

As we flew into and then over the harbor I could see Mediterranean style villas along the coast that changed into a modern city and lots of cruise liners and yachts. At the far end of the harbor, near the top middle running to some mountains was a river and what looked like the commercial shipping and cargo container ships. We descended into the airport and I saw fighter jets too. I guess the airport was also one of their air force bases.

The drive to my grandmother's, gave me another surprise as the buildings changed from villas and modern apartments into French style chateau's and even English brownstone townhouses. But the drive out to meet grandma for first time, was totally unexpected. Some may call it a quaint village, but for a kid from America anyplace with no electricity, no internet, no television, and no phone service was as backward as you could get! She literally lived in an Irish-style thatched roof cottage!

Over the first few days my excitement slowly turned to boredom. Mom was busy everyday driving to the city, meeting with lawyers and so on. Initially she left me, my brother and my sister with our grandfather and grandmother. We thought we would have some great meeting and bonding time with our grandparents, but grandma and grandpa had other ideas. We had nothing to do but do the chores for them. We were certainly kept busy with it, hand washing the laundry, cleaning up and sweeping and dusting. Grandma loved to cook for all of us and was more than happy to have me do the dishes. No electrical power meant hand washing everything. That actually wouldn't have been so bad but grandma would still sit there and watch and critique every little thing I did. She must have thought we were spoiled and needed discipline.

After only a couple of days my sister couldn't stand it anymore and begged mom to take her with her to the city so she could help out. And after a late night scare where mom was nearly mugged, my little brother got to go as well. Mom probably thought he could protect her, and at 6'4 and 220 lbs he probably could. After that mom would often take my sister with her for company, which left me at the cottage alone with my grandparents. Now all the chores fell to me. My grandfather got into the act as well now, having me do the yard work, re-thatch the roof, attend to several farm animals they had. I quickly learned that chickens are both stupid and mean! I thought about complaining to mom as well but I actually didn't have the heart to do it. The way she came home every night, sad and dejected, she tried to keep up a brave front but I could tell that everything was affecting her. I decided I had to be strong and buckle down and try to keep some semblance of normality for us. Besides, I knew that I would finally get to see dad the day that he was going to be formally arraigned.

When that day finally came I was so excited, nervous, yes, because of the seriousness of it all, but also happy to get out and away from my grandparents tasking. I remember that I put on a suit and tie, and I had to borrow my sister's brush to brush out my hair. By that time it had grown down past my shoulders to my upper back in length. I had wanted to get a hair cut and look more presentable but there hadn't been any time or money to do it. All six of us, my mom, brother, sister, grandfather and grandmother and I climbed into the rental car and headed off to the city. It was only an hour drive, but being cramped in the back of a small economy car was agony. Once again I was struck by the variety of all the different architectural styles; Mediterranean villas at the coast, French chateaus in the country, English brown-stones on the outskirts of the city, modern high-rises in the city. It was as if they had a little bit of everything here. I checked the guide book and read that Allegoria was a bit of a haven of stability during the 2nd Great War and refugees from all over found shelter and protection here. My reading was interrupted when we arrived. Mom had driven us straight to the courthouse and led us to the visitors entrance.

The visitor's rooms at the courthouse were just like you would see in an American crime drama, a simple table and set of chairs for all of us. Dad's lawyer met us at the front door and we walked in together. They brought dad in and we were all allowed to sit with him. We had just a few minutes together but the time was taken up by dad's lawyer talking about what was about to happen and what to expect. He was glad we were all there to show support. He felt a strong family presence would help to show that dad was really a model citizen. Naturally we worried anyway and it struck me as ironic how we were all trying to be brave for each other. I had wanted more time to catch up, but the guards came and escorted dad and his lawyer, and all of us, to the courtroom.

**

Count Delacroix was in a good mood. It wasn't often he felt happy, but today he was about to see a criminal face charges and he was as close to smiling as he had ever been. The count was a serious man. As Chancellor of the Exchequer he was responsible for many things. Finding out how to generate tax revenue, and overseeing the machinery of the royal tax collections office were full time occupations. And now an embezzler was coming to face justice.

Granted the count had been forced to tread carefully. The secret accounts of his that his young protege had discovered and plundered years ago would not have been easily explained. The count knew he had to be patient, and he waited many months, all the while carefully adjusting numbers and shifting funds until he could "discover" the missing money and explain why his assistant had suddenly left the country. Naturally the count was "shocked" and "horrified" at the discovery, or so all the papers reported when he appeared before the House of Lords to report the news. But with the blame now firmly fixed on his protege it was only a matter of a simple vote to charge the fugitive with the crime of embezzlement. The count had no idea it would have taken this many years before he was able to discover the fugitive's whereabouts.

But since all the loose ends had been tied up years ago, today he was to see the beginning of justice administered, and no doubt, after the successful prosecution and eventual guilty verdict, he would be able to reap the rewards. His duty was clear and he now looked forward to watching the royal prosecutor. The count made his way to the balcony seating reserved for nobles to watch Royal Justice in action. Naturally he didn't rise when the judge came in and took his seat. The count surveyed the courtroom from his lofty perch before casually turning his attention to the accused and his family.

The count smiled as everything was as it should be. The judge, the prosecutor, the accused, counsel for the accused, and the family of the accused. The count saw the mother, son and two daughters and became momentarily confused. Why was one of the daughters wearing a suit? She should be wearing a dress like her sister and mother. The count idly wondered if she was a lesbian. But after a second more careful examination the count noticed that she was in fact a boy.

The Count noticed the amazing similarities in their appearance, amongst the mother and daughter the three of them were nearly identical. The Count admired the young man and smiled indulgently at the thought of his planned evening activities. A new concubine had come into service and the count had the highest bid of the private auction to be the first to bed the newly trained servant.

Long suppressed memories of his school days came unbidden from his memory. In his mind's eye the count saw the young man sitting by the counsel for the accused and was struck by the resemblance he bore to his former lover from preparatory school. The count remembered the guilt he felt during their relationship. Attitudes to homosexuality 40 years ago were different. After his father found out the count was forced to break off the relationship. Instead he had to lead the normal life expected of him. To pursue a relationship in accords with his orientation would have his father disown him completely. The count, due to societal attitudes about being gay and his obligations to his family, instead hid his orientation and did what he was told. He married a nice young woman and raised a family.

The count's wife had died 5 years ago. Despite the many business trips to Thailand and the steady stream of attractive young male interns he supervised, she died never knowing of his special interests. The count had been careful. He had to be, a man in his position of authority and standing in the community. Of course the wealth his status afforded him allowed him to maintain his secrets easily. Security agents and guards, bribes and payoffs were nothing unfamiliar; after all, he deserved them. He was entitled to the perks and privileges of his breeding and family.

The count found it difficult to organize his thoughts and in a rare moment of indecision was unsure of what he should do. He had always acted on reason and not emotion. The count reminisced again over his long lost lover, his warmth, his beauty. The count was embarrassed as he felt his erection start to grow as he remembered his lover's mouth satisfying his physical cravings. The secret meetings they arranged as he presented himself for the count's taking. The count shifted in his seat to ease the strain on his erection, trapped inside his trousers. He flushed slightly with embarrassment as he fought to control himself.

I am a man of reason, not an animal, he thought, angrily. Count Delacroix struggled with his emotions and knew that he had a decision to make. The count knew this case inside and out. He knew he needed to do something, to act, but what? What should he do?

The count watched and listened as the judge asked the defense to enter a plea. The attorney entered a plea on behalf of his client of not guilty. The judge accepted the plea and intoned that the trial would start Monday, in 4 days time.

The count rose and left the courtroom, walking slowly and casually to conceal the bulge from his erection. A quick stop in the lavatory to discreetly adjust himself was as awkward as the yearnings he now felt. Touching his erection as he made the adjustment caused a shock of pleasure he hadn't felt in a long time. Not one for sentimental nonsense the count was angry with himself as he knew he had thought of the young man in the courtroom when he did it.

The Count returned to his palatial office and threw himself into his work. He worked all that afternoon and late into the night. After watching the accused enter his plea he should have felt better. Instead he felt conflicted.

Finally returning home to his villa the count readied himself for his evening's entertainment. Determined to banish the troubled thoughts that had been torturing him the count reclined into an overstuffed sofa chair. His evening's entertainment had arrived.

The Count watched as the young man slowly, almost timidly approached and kneeled down before the count. Nervously he gently pushed the counts legs open, before moving forward on his knees closer and closer.

The count took a moment and took the young man by the chin, tilting his head up until they made eye contact.

"They tell me I am your first."

The young man swallowed and smiled nervously. "Yes, your grace."

"You are young to be a concubine. Most don't come into this profession so soonn in life, or as young."

"Oh, yes, uh, I mean, I have no family or contacts, and can't afford to go to college, so..." he trailed off.

The count smiled politely but was secretly bored as the young man rambled on with a brief tale of woe. When he finally finished his story the count was actually relieved.

"A sad tale, to be sure, but you are learning a new trade, one that can be quite lucrative for you. Let us begin then." The count waved dismissively towards the young man and the belt of his robe.

The young man swallowed nervously again, before untying the knot and opening the flaps of the robe. The Count smiled as the young man gulped when seeing the size of the counts manhood. Not even fully erect he was still over 8 inches long and nearly 5 inches around.

The count relaxed into his seat as the young man's hand tentatively stroked up and down the length of his shaft.

The count was content to let the young man go at his own pace at first. A novice concubine could be delightful to someone as jaded as he. Breaking them in slowly and patiently, savoring the reward of innocence. The count became somewhat distraught to find he was actually slowly losing his erection.

The count looked at the young man. He was certainly pretty enough. Blond hair cut short. In the dim light he imagined it looked almost but not quite as a pixie cut. Not long and brunette like the young man in court today, he smiled, remembering the luxurious appearance of his hair. As he did so the count felt his cock harden and strain under the increase flush of arousal.

Smiling now at the thought, the count placed his hand behind the young man's head and guided it toward his now engorged cock.

Another nervous smile and lick of his lips and the concubine kissed the tip before licking up and down his shaft.

The count closed his eyes and decided to fantasize about the young man in court.

Fantasies of control and dominance swirled through the count's mind as the concubine swirled his tongue around the base of his cock and kissed and fondled his balls. Gone from the count's mind was the blonde concubine, replaced in his mind's eye with the son of his young protege.

The count let his imagination fuel his fantasy. He fantasized about the brunette hair in a tight pony tail, his face lovingly made up like his favorite lady-boys from Thailand, those firm plump lips in red lipstick wrapped tenderly around the shaft of his hard swollen cock.

Shifting in his seat the count allowed the fantasy to fuel the fire and knew he wouldn't last much longer. Taking the concubine again by the back of his head, his hair was cut too short to grab, he thought disappointingly, he motioned the young man back.

"Facial." He ordered.

The concubine nervously smiled.

God that smile was getting annoying, the count thought, but with the concubines gentle licks of his tongue and firm strokes of his hand he finally brought the count to orgasm.

Long streams of cum arched from the tip of his cock and splashed messily across the concubines face. The baron watched the young man's concerned expression as stream after stream and rope after rope of hot cum erupted from his manhood, but at least he kept stroking until the Count's seed had finally been spent.

Finished, the count took his cock in his hand and used his cock to evenly spread his cum across the face and lips of the concubine.

"You have done well." The count smiled politely as his released the young concubines head from his grasp. "You may go now."

"But, you've paid for the whole evening." The concubine stuttered. If he disappointed an important client like this one he could lose is job.

"It's quite alright. You have been satisfactory. Now go." The Count maintained an even expression but was secretly disappointed. All that money spent to be the concubines first and he instead fantasized about another.

"May I borrow a towel to, um..." the young man gestured wiping motions across his face.

"No. When you leave here you may be proud to wear my cum on your face."

The concubine rose slowly from his knees and turned to leave. Cum spread so obviously across his features it seemed even a blind man would notice. The concubine didn't question his client or his training. The elite had their fetishes and perks, and despite the terrible embarrassment, the money would be worth it. Hey, for his first time he didn't even have to take off any of his clothes.

Disappointedly, the Count turned into bed to sleep. When he did try to sleep his fevered dreams made him toss and turn and ultimately woke him up after only a few hours.

Dressed in his pajamas the count fought to ignore the return of his now persistent erection. He opened the windows to allow the cool night breeze to enter and tried to clear his mind from his confusing thoughts. He had to do something, but what?

Time waits for no man, the count thought ruefully. He was 65 years old now and the count knew whatever he decided that he had to play his cards carefully.

Could he take the young man from court as a lover? No, he thought, he hadn't courted anyone except his wife, and at his age he didn't want to risk appearing the part of the fool.

Maybe just kidnap him and use him as his personal toy?

Again the count rejected that idea. Such a move was beneath the dignity of a member of the noble classes. Since the young man was not a gift he intended to give away to another, keeping him for himself would be considered improper by his peers.

The count wondered if he could just send a match maker to make an offer to the family of the young man, but the risk of rejection, nay, the certain likelihood of rejection was too great. The scandal would likely cause a mistrial if it were insinuated he used his influence for personal gain so openly.

The counts thoughts became distracted and he then became irritated by the recent accusations of the gay rights activists who were protesting government policies. They said his refusal to allow gay couples to be taxed the same as married couples meant that he was a homophobe! How dare they! If only they knew, he thought humorlessly.

I should just marry the boy! Then I could get what I want and I would also silence my critics!

The count found him self doing a mental double take, his mind ablaze with the feelings that come from making the obvious connections.

Marriage? Could he?

While it is true that there were some nobles who were openly bisexual, they all had first married in a traditional arrangement for the purpose of children and heirs. Concubines were common and even same sex concubines were accepted. Openly flaunting a kept woman or mistress by the men was understood, even expected. Women openly appearing with an "escort" or even a "kept man" were daring acts usually performed only by the younger generation of nobles, after an heir had been produced of course.

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