The Diary of Jewel Delacroix Ch. 30

And her performance was so erotic he himself, Count Delacroix, had a simultaneous orgasm, filling her tight bottom with his seed, gifting her with a man's love...his love.

And afterward when she sobbed in the afterglow of delight, He carried her to their master bedroom and instead of pushing her away, to make room for him to sleep of course, he had drawn her close to him and held her in his embrace. Even though she was covered in her seed, her cum, and filled with his semen; he held her and spooned her until they fell asleep in a tender embrace.

When he woke in the morning she was gone. The count got out of bed and seeing the light on in the countesses private bathroom, walked over to the door to investigate. He saw his wife, his male-bride, his arranged marriage bride, sitting at her vanity.

She had obviously showered and dressed and restored her makeup from the previous evening. She appeared deep in thought, staring into her mirror with a dreamy faraway look upon her face. Enchanted by her loveliness and quite spent from the previous evening's exertions the count walked back to the bed and rang the servant's bell to summon his staff.

He had a busy day today. There would be time for his wife to attend to him again later.

**

"Good morning Countess and welcome. The VIP booth is just over here." The usher greeted enthusiastically.

Jewel Delacroix walk demurely to her seat. Her position and title giving her an advantageous view of the race track down below in an area reserved exclusively for members of the ruling elite.

The 44th Annual Royal Charity Automobile Rally and Race was another of the highlights of the summer social season for the crème de la crème of Alegoria's elite society. Her members of the nobility and worthy successful commoners of the financial and business and legal community would all hobnob together in a see and be seen atmosphere.

Like the Masquerade Ball in October and the Coronation Day Celebrations and Parade this was another of a long line of events Jewel was expected to attend.

Jewel felt the tight pull of her Public Cross-dressing Permit collar. For the second time in her life she was required to wear it. Muriel and Dianne had the day off and she wasn't being escorted by her husband as he was participating in the race. Today she had been sent out alone to gossip and socialize among her peers. Just like the previous time she found wearing the collar humiliating.

PCP collars were new to her. They were part of a new law for cross-dressers who are not intending to transition. According to rumor, another male bride named Dorothy Hastings was to blame. Her outrageous behavior had caused such a ruckus that now all cross-dressing men had to wear one when out in public so no one was deceived or surprised. Jewel didn't know all the details but assumed the behavior must have been truly appalling for such a reaction to occur.

Like before, Jewel noticed the difference in treatment immediately. Her ability to pass completely and convincingly as a woman was an asset she hadn't fully appreciated these several years of her marriage.

Today, it was subtle, but both men and women alike, even society wives and nobles she had been forced to associate with were distancing themselves from her. When one approached she could see their eyes as they spotted her PCP collar in its neon pink and black lettering secured with a thick plastic clamp around her neck. And then the quick glance away as if they were too polite to deign to notice.

But no one actually came over to greet her, rather giving a polite wave from afar before moving on to greet someone else. Jewel felt alone, but was content to sit and watch as aside from the queen, who was in her private suite, there was no one above her rank as countess whom protocol dictated she had to greet.

When a waiter visited her table and took her order Jewel ordered the white wine that was socially acceptable for her to drink in public. She couldn't remember the vintage or type of wine, rather simply purchased the most expensive one available.

She didn't even think the taste was particularly impressive as she took her first sip. She was more focused on washing out the taste of cum from her mouth from the morning blow job her husband and forced her to perform on him in the car on the way over. It seemed that back seat blow jobs were a thing now with him.

**

Count Delacroix sat in his race car and rev'd the engine occasionally to keep it warm and ready for the start of the race. He had finished well last season and his practice times earlier in the week had placed him in a favorable spot in the pack. Unfortunately his son had also done well last year and in his practice times so the count could see his son sitting right behind him in his rear view mirror.

Since the strokes the count knew he had difficulty controlling his temper. And after another interminable argument with his son the previous week he had well and truly lost it. The count hated him self for that as he believed losing control of one's emotions was a sign of weakness.

In the past few years since his marriage his son had become increasingly bold. Challenging him in business dealings, publicly criticizing his policy positions as chancellor of the exchequer and, as he recently discovered, had private investigators looking into his treatment of Jewel during her training and conditioning program prior to and during their marriage.

The count accelerated with the pack as the race started. Tight quarters and high speeds demanded all of his attention. As the count settled into the race he could feel his cares start to slip away as his mind went into the flow and hyper-focus race car driving demanded.

**

Jewel thanked the waiter as he delivered her second glass of wine. Having a second glass was a luxury. Her husband only allowed her to have one glass. She pondered her condition as an arranged bride and her forced marriage. She wallowed in guilt. She thought about her husband and all the times she had offered herself to him in an attempt to set up an escape. She felt bad about the betrayals; she was selfish to have been thinking only about herself. It was Jules fault, she thought. He was always trying to get her in trouble.

Jewel fought against the urge to bite her lip. It was a nervous habit she had recently discovered she had somehow developed. It bothered her as it left lipstick stains on her teeth and sometimes smudged her lipstick slightly.

Jewel withdrew a compact from her handbag and checked her appearance in the small mirror. It was Muriel's day off and she had done her hair and all her cosmetics herself. She knew her skills with make-up had slipped slightly as Muriel preferred to do it all herself.

If she had more time she would have simply gone to the salon. As strange as it sounded going to a salon was one of the few feminine pleasures she had enjoyed during her time as wife. Her ability to pass and the understanding staff that kept her gender a secret from the other patrons was nice. Jewel realized that even that experience would be different now. Without her governess and escort she would have to wear her PCP collar. That would probably ruin the dynamic of her visit.

Jewel thought of the recent charity golf event. Those people would never have behaved that way if her husband had been with her. Whenever they attended events together she never saw anyone act so rudely or insult her or treat her as badly as that. Her husband protected her.

Jewel touched up her lipstick and put the compact away. She was happy with what she had done with her makeup. She had selected more subtle shades of eye-shadow and a softer shade of red color for her lipstick than Muriel would have chosen. Jewel preferred the youthful effect instead of the dramatic colors Muriel typically chose.

Jewel had never wanted to be a girl but if she has to be a girl at least she was a pretty girl.

Jewel admired the lipstick stain on her wine glass. Since she was over 21 and had been brought home her husband had allowed her to drink wine. She had noticed that she had been leaving lipstick stains on her wine glasses. Her husband often found it adorable and erotic to see those stains on the crystal stemware. He could be so silly and simple sometimes...

**

The huge bump from behind broke his flow; the sound of metal on metal jarring to hear. Fury blazed into the count's mind as he knew even before he glanced into his rear view mirror his son had deliberately bumped into the back of his car.

Impudent fool! He knows full well this car's worth! The count's blood boiled at the thought of having to restore the car that he had just restored all over again.

Count Jean Claude Delacroix V considered bumping into his father's car again but knew he had to wait for just the right moment. It was time the old man was stopped. Their feuding was making it into the gossip columns now and all his attempts to sideline and replace his father had failed.

Forcing him out of his position in business had backfired as the board who he thought was in agreement with him instead sided with his old man. Now he was forced out instead.

Working for years to undermine his authority in government had also failed. His father had too many friends, and knew the secrets of so many important persons too numerous to count. Count Delacroix the IV always seemed to have the support for whatever program he wanted to implement

Trying to blackmail his father once he found the papers documenting the hypnotic and neurological conditioning of Jewel had also failed. Naturally all the necessary papers had been filed with the royal court so it was nothing technically illegal, but the press would still have a field day...or so he thought, and he could avoid the embarrassment and simply step aside...but he didn't

"I do not concern myself with the opinions of the sheep. I lead them where I want them to go and I do it so well they thank me for it. That is leadership! That is power! That is what a noble is meant to do, meant to be! This is the lessons I have tried to teach you...and failed"

And that was the final straw. Count Delacroix V is NOT a failure. But he couldn't simply wait for his father to die anymore. Even with his medical issues he was healthy and would likely live to 100. But if he were killed in an accident at the annual charity celebrity rally race, where vintage race cars raced at high speeds...a televised crash, then that would just simply be tragic.

His father should not have been racing anyway as he was having minor strokes. It was a perfect plan.

**

Jewel tried to feign interest in the race, but she just wasn't a car guy or a race fan. Cars driving fast in circles were just...boring. At least the effects of the third glass of wine had finally had the desired effect on clearing the counts cum out of her mouth and throat. Jewel had never been intoxicated before and she was surprised by the pleasant effect of the wine. She felt silly and carefree.

Jewel was lost in thought anyway; the euphoric sensation of intoxication was opposing the melancholy attitude that had taken hold and was trying to loosen its grip on her mood. Jewel's thoughts looked back over the years of her marriage.

She finally had to admit it...she was defeated. She was a failure. She should have been a better wife. Jules always wanted to escape, but there was no escape. She saw that now.

Jules had escaped to the US Embassy and Jewel had been returned to her husband and punished. Jules had escaped again and Jewel had been caught at the airport and punished. She had been exiled to a private school and thrived, only to betray her husband's trust and have an affair.

It was probably just and proper that she be brought back. Jules had tried to escape again by crossing over the border, and had failed so badly that no one had even noticed. Jewel giggled at the irony of it all.

And then there were the orgasms. Twice now her husband had made love to her, not just fucked her, and twice now he had made her orgasm. She struggled against it. She wasn't gay, after all...was she? She had fought each time to resist the building pleasure inside her and squirmed to escape it yet the more she squirmed, the more she wriggled her body to move away from the pleasure the closer the pleasure came...and then overwhelmed her! Jules wasn't gay, but Jewel wasn't either. She was a married woman now after all.

Jewel realized that she may have been a bad wife to her husband. She hadn't wanted to be a wife at all, but that was beyond her control. She was made to be a wife and she was a bad one. Jewel felt shame as she knew neither Jules nor Jewel had the ability to escape. She was beaten. There was no hope for freedom and no chance of escape.

It was settled, she thought. After the race she would apologize to her husband and confess all her misdeeds. Her behavior had been terrible and he deserved so much better. For some reason Jewel tried but couldn't feel good about her decision. Something was nagging at her in the back of her mind.

Jewel pushed the unpleasant sensation away. It was time to face the facts. The only thing left to her was to survive as best she could. Jewel didn't want to be a wife but that is what she was. She had no choice. She was a wife and that was that. Jewel sipped the last of her wine, and then ordered another glass.

**

Jean Claude V had tried several times to force the crash. It had to look like an accident of course, and so far the race was half over and his only attempt so far was unsuccessful.

Jean knew that forcing his father off the track at the hairpin turn and into the wall would likely kill him, but the angle was wrong and his father, he hated to admit it, was a good racer. The bump was too glancing and his father recovered and raced on.

Now with time and laps slipping away he had to try again. There was another race car between him and his father. As the hairpin turn approached Jean saw he would have a chance to force the other car into is father's car and then with luck his father would crash.

At speeds over 200 mph Jean deliberately came into the turn too fast and rammed the other race car. The impact forced it forward and into his father's car and immediately both vintage race cars were sliding for the wall. Jean steered hard left and down shifted to cut speed and hold the turn.

He never saw the car behind him as it struck him and his car, pushing it into the wall as well.

**

Jewel stood near the corner of the room to allow her husband's mourners to approach her and offer their condolences in a semi-private setting. Jewel received each of them with polite greetings and accepted their expressions of sympathy gracefully. Jewel wondered how much longer she would need to attend the viewing of her husband's body and how many more mourners there could possibly be. She had been on her feet for nearly an hour now and her glossy black 4" heels weren't doing her toes any favors.

How many times had she told Muriel...round toes for her high heels, not pointy. But with the death of her husband Jewel knew she could now assert her authority and that was definitely one thing she would change.

There was also the uncomfortable sensation of déjà-vu from many of the mourners. It seemed as if there were a disproportionate number of young handsome men among them. A few of them had approached her to express their sympathy and condolences.

A few were former administrative assistants, secretaries Jewel thought, who would share polite stories of their time as the count's employee; how thoughtful he was, and considerate, and generous, friendly and a joy to work for.

Others commented on how he was such a strong and powerful man, a leader, and a visionary. Jewel thought she was imagining the emphasis that was placed on certain words until more than one of them emphasized those same words.

A few more identified themselves as 'friends' who spoke of how they had travelled together and shared adventures. It struck her as very odd that some were even close to tears at the loss of her husband.

Jewel noticed a pattern. All were handsome, single, good hair, straight white teeth, clear skin...and...well...she wasn't one to judge but...their mannerisms were...

hmmm...what's the word...not flamboyant...not flashy...

Jewel put the uncomfortable realization out of her mind as she used every ounce of her control and training to maintain her composure. Her woman's intuition was clearly telling her that her husband must have been having affairs; multiple affairs, by the looks of it.

Awkward!

Jewel ignored the implications of her discovery and turned her thoughts to more intangible matters; many nights Jewel had pondered the meaning of how the moment she had given up and accepted her fate was the same moment that her husband had a fatal car crash. Was there a god; was it karma, or fate? Or was the universe just a big random messed up jumble? Jewel couldn't fathom why, such grand concepts were beyond her understanding.

Jewel's reverie was interrupted as another mourner approached her. Jewel thought she recognized his face. He didn't seem like one of the 'boyfriends' as she had begun to think of them, she thought she had met him or had seen him before somewhere, but where?

"Lady Delacroix, Horace Jarrod Inon, of the National Social Service Acquisition and Maintenance Department. Please accept my sincere condolences for your loss. Your husband was a visionary and a titan of business and government affairs. His impact will be sorely missed."

"Thank you Horace, I'm sure he will be...have we met before?"

Horace seemed pleased. "Yes your grace, although we didn't speak I saw you at your home once when I was summoned by your husband for a consultation."

Jewel vividly recalled the first time her husband had her staged for a scene. It was in his library and as she was made to sit at a writing desk and write in her diary before being dismissed. Jewel recalled how the man had stared openly at her chest.

"And what business did my husband have with the bimbo lottery?"

Horace's smile fell slightly. "The Bimbo lottery is actually the slang term that the lower classes use for a program developed by the National Social Services Acquisition and Maintenance department as a means to provide an acceptable outlet for elevated social passions of the lower classes."

"Prostitutes for the people." Jewel stated evenly. "And what business did you have with my husband."

"Well..." Horace seemed reluctant to answer.

"No need to be coy Horace," Jewel lied "By my 5th anniversary my husband and I had no secrets from each other, not anymore anyway" except those boyfriends, apparently.

"Please, call me Jarrod, and the meeting was about you."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"And what pray tell would the National Social Services Acquisition and Maintenance Department want with me?"

"A political opponent of your husband and of the program wanted to claim that your marriage counted against the quota of inductees into that year's program. Your husband summoned me to see him, and to see you, and state quite firmly that a male bride is not an inductee and cannot be counted against the number of public servants needed to satisfy the demand for, err...their services."

"I see." Jewel's training allowed her to control her expressions and demeanor. Inwardly she was horrified that she might have been counted as one of the unfortunate lottery winners who were slated to become bimbo's and forced into prostitution in the name of the greater good.

Jewel let the pregnant pause linger.

"Well then, again, please accept my deepest sympathies. The department will sorely miss your husband's unfailing support for our policies."

"Thank you Jarrod, I appreciate your sympathy."

**

"And I know this is difficult, but what were you feeling at that time?" The camera caught Phoebe Mills's expression as one of sorrow and respect as she interviewed Countess Delacroix, Dowager, for her televised report.