The Tonisian Distillation - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

De'Boril quickly returned to his lab, passing through the basement, used for simple storage and with two stair wells; one for general purposes and one from the kitchen. Cook kept a number of dry goods handy in the basement. He had taken the other stair. The first sub-basement contained little of use, though it had a number of small rooms. De'Boril suspected that sometime in the distant past this level was used as an interrogation/torture chamber. He used it as storage for broken bits of furniture that might be recovered, eventually.

His lab occupied most of the last sub level. There was also a small room with a simple bed that he used when he worked late into the evening. Of late, that bed had seen far more use than the one occupying his suite on the third floor of the tower.

Gerard headed right to the faded manuscript. There it was. 'Fr--- --men'. Could it really mean 'fresh semen'? Was it that simple? Once again he thought of the effort involved in locating most of the other ingredients. "Bah, I'll never know until I try!" If he were wrong, well, he would burn that bridge when he came to it.

Pulling his coat off and loosening his pristine white silk shirt, then pulling his trousers open, de'Boril took his penis in hand. Within a few pumps he was already half-erect. He smiled tightly. Yes, he thought, I still have a few charges left in the old musket.

With surprising ease, he achieved a full erection. Thoughts of Gretel in compromising positions did wonders for his libido! The noble pictured his maid, looking wanton, like a street girl he had tumbled once on one of his campaigns, gliding up to him. Her dress was draped about her hips, and she was not wearing her blouse. Sweet, need-swollen nipples thrust toward him, swaying slightly. Her creamy breasts screamed for his touch.

He pictured her pressing her young body against his, moaning slightly with need. Almost absently, de'Boril dipped his fingers in a small bowl of oil nearby, then returned to his fantasies.

Gretel was pressed against him, her skirts up around her waist, her bare bottom seemingly begging him to fuck her. He was holding her hips, pounding his ready shaft into her needy hole from behind. He could hear her moaning with need, a need for him to fill her with his seed. Her whole purpose for existing was to please him!

Gerard could feel the surge within him, building, building. Gretel, completely nude now, spread herself wantonly across the small cot in the other room, begging her lord to fuck her. The pressure in his groin was almost too much. With a groan, de'Boril pumped his seed in short, thick wads into a ready vial. The man gasped. It had been a long time since he'd had any such release, with or without a woman. It took him a few seconds to recover.

After cleaning himself up, de'Boril returned to the lab. His fresh semen was there, as well as the larger container that contained the unfinished concoction. He paused as he prepared to mix the two. What if he was wrong?

Well, if he were, then he'd just have to start over. With sure, quick movements that did not reflect his inner doubt, de'Boril poured his jism in and quickly stirred the mixture with a glass rod. When he was sure he had everything thoroughly blended, he stopped, staring at his achievement. Would it work?

The potion he had just completed with the use of his own semen was supposed to grant any person that imbibed no more than an ounce of it super human strength and a certain invulnerability to weapons of steel. With such abilities bestowed upon the country's soldiers, no army could hope to stand against Tonisia. According to the ancient manuscripts, one dose was sufficient to empower a man for about a year. Theoretically, it would merge with the taker's cells, only gradually fading in power. Continued doses were not advised, as the shock to the system over the long run could drastically reduce the user's life expectancy. But, would it work the first time?

Carefully, de'Boril dipped a small one ounce vial into his creation, then held it up before him. "Well," he whispered, "only one way to find out!" With a quick movement, he brought the container to his lips and threw his head back.

Well, he knew one thing right away; it tasted awful. As he waited patiently for the mix to enter his blood stream, he carefully placed the remainder; a good liter, more than enough to empower a small army; into the one ounce vials prepared for the purpose. He was just about finished, the vials stoppered and stored within a protective trunk, when he felt the first bit of a reaction.

He felt himself flush, blood rushing through his body. His penis grew erect again; pumped full of enhanced blood. Gasping, he held on to the table, trembling with the effort. De'Boril collapsed to his knees, almost overwhelmed by the sensations running through him. He felt...powerful! But he also knew that something had gone wrong.

He was not overwhelmingly strong. He was not invulnerable to attack. But the power coursed through him! No, there was some increase in strength. Lifting one of the numerous chests scattered about, he estimated he was now about as strong as any two other men combined. Significant, but not what he had hoped for. What else did he feel? Yes, de'Boril knew some sort of power was now being held within him. He just had to figure out how to unleash it!

For some time, de'Boril poured over his notes. Useless, he thought. That last ingredient was not, obviously, semen. He'd created something entirely new!

The timid tap at the lab door broke his concentration. What...ah, almost eight bells. Gretel was here to remind him. Gretel... The thought of the girl, so prominent in his earlier fantasies, almost overwhelmed him with the urge to take her, hard and forcefully. For a second, he was shocked, but the burning desire within him washed away the dismay as if it had never been. He would have her!

With a step as sure as any he had ever used on the parade ground, de'Boril moved to the closed lab door. He jerked it open, startling Gretel and causing her to jump slightly. With the blood pounding in his ears, it was hard to think, but through force of will, he controlled himself. The maid seemed even more timid than usual after his abrupt appearance.

"Time for supper already," he asked, his voice husky with need.

Gretel curtsied. "Yes, Milord. Anne has gone to inform Leftenant Lyle. Cook says dinner will be served directly at eight bells." The girl was not sure what was wrong with her master, but he seemed somehow...different. There was a distracted look on his face, and his eyes flashed cruelly as he gazed upon her. Normally timid, the girl became even more hesitant, and warning signals flashed through her thoughts.

De'Boril nodded, as if he truly cared when dinner was served. He stepped back within his lab and gestured for the girl to follow. "Very good then. I have a few minutes to finish up. Please give me a hand here, I have need of you for a moment." He gestured to the side of the lab, toward the arch leading into his small sleeping cubby.

Gretel was surprised. The master had never asked for her help before. She didn't even know what he was working on. Nervously, she followed the man into the room. De'Boril shut the door behind her as she entered and she shuddered, suddenly frightened. What could the master need?

As soon as he secured the door, de'Boril advanced on his maid. She was unaware of his approach, since she had been taking in the extent of the lab, which she had never been allowed in before. She was completely stunned when her master's hands closed on her upper arms, spinning her about. She yelped, shocked at the rough treatment. "M-master?"

De'Boril's eyes burned with his need. Gretel was young, but all women instinctively know that look. "N-no!" The slight maid tried to pull free, but de'Boril's hands were unbelievably strong, so strong!

With a quick backhand, de'Boril stunned the girl. Savagely, he gripped the lacing at the front of the girl's peasant dress and tore it free, even ripping into the fabric at the girl's waist. Gretel staggered back, attempting to hold the front of her gown together. She still wore her blouse, but after de'Boril's attack she knew he would have little difficulty with it. With a stuttering intake of breath, she let out a wailing scream, hoping someone else in the tower would hear her. It was a fruitless hope. Two other levels of closed doors were above her; her screams died out well before reaching the upper levels.

"Girl, you are mine! I will have you, fighting or not." De'Boril snapped out a hand and quieted her wails by slapping her against the wall. The girl's brilliant auburn hair, unable to deal with the abuse, came free and tumbled down over one shoulder while the girl slumped to the floor, stunned.

The lord stood before her when she finally looked up, his eyes burning. His hand snapped down and closed painfully on her upper arm, yanking her to her feet. His other hand closed on her blouse, and with a ragged tear it fell free, useless.

Through a haze of tears, Gretel saw her master lick his lips while his fiery gaze rested on her heaving breasts. "Ah, yes, little one. I knew you had hidden treasures. And now, I will truly possess them!" The girl's bosom was truly lovely, de'Boril thought. Not quite as large as he had imagined earlier, but he could forgive her that. Her creamy skin was flushed with fear, and her nipples, topping delicately pink areola, were erect, suddenly exposed to the chill air of the sub-levels.

Gretel chose this time to strike out. She was almost incoherent from fear and pain, but she brought her small fist around and hit de'Boril as hard as she could on the side of the head. With a sobbing gasp of fear, she saw this didn't even slow her lord down. With a negligent swipe, de'Boril backhanded her again, bouncing her head off the stone wall behind her. He watched as her eyes fluttered closed, the experience proving too much for the girl. She retreated into unconsciousness.

He scooped the girl up before she could slump to the floor, easily carrying her into the small room he slept in. In quick rough movements, he quickly had the unconscious girl stripped of the rest of her clothes, tossing the torn rags into the corner. Then he stood back, admiring his maid.

She was a small boned girl, delicate. Her slim waist and legs were stunning. One hand rested on her bosom, almost as if waiting to tease the pale nipples that capped the girl's small but luscious breasts. Masses of reddish hair were splayed about, the scarlet locks contrasting wonderfully with the girl's milky white skin. His cock strained against his britches, ready to penetrate Gretel's sweet little pussy. Yes, he would take her; he would make her his, body and soul!

Quickly divesting himself of his clothing, de'Boril wasted no time, shifting one of the girl's legs over and positioning himself advantageously. The head of his cock struggled against the girl's tight slit, but he would have none of that. With a savage thrust, he impaled the girl.

Gretel was engulfed in pain. With an agonized wail she jerked forward, only to be slammed back down by her master's irresistible hand. The girl writhed in pain. She had never been with a man before, and was totally unprepared for the pain of her rape. Blearily, she felt the master thrusting within her, and the pain came again, and again and again, though not quite to the same extreme as the first cruel thrust. Sobbing quietly, unable to resist, Gretel winced at the continued abuse while her master had his way with her.

De'Boril grunted and thrust into the deflowered virgin forcefully. He would have her! She was his to do with, always! Thrusting harder, he felt the pressure within his groin building. Yes, soon she would truly be his!

With each pounding thrust, the girl gasped softly, wincing. When would he be done with her!

Gretel would soon discover that her master would never truly be done with her. As de'Boril suddenly started to thrust, deep and slow and hard, within her body, she could vaguely hear him whispering, "yes, soon, yes!"

De'Boril bellowed as his cum burst from his engorged shaft. The thick, elixir-enhanced jism shot deep within the maid, filling her vagina and spurting into her womb. Excess semen soon oozed from her abused hole, mixing with her virginal blood.

Gretel didn't know what to expect, but nothing could have prepared her for her body's response to her lord's load. Eyes wide, mouth open in shock, Gretel's body spasmed. White-knuckled fingers already tightly clutching the bed sheets suddenly tore strips from them. Her uterus, filled with the seed of her master, contracted again and again, almost causing her to lose consciousness once more. Her eyes rolled up, and small grunts were all she could manage for quite a long time.

De'Boril, his need to possess the maid fulfilled, stood back and almost clinically watched the girl's reactions. He'd been with enough women to know that this was not the typical response. The girl was still orgasming, again and again. He'd never seen anything like it.

It took him only a few seconds to realize this had something to do with his concoction. In addition to the enhanced strength, he had gained a powerful urge to sexually dominate women. And, from the looks of things, once he took them, his semen, somehow altered by that foul concoction, did something additional to them, something that he had yet to identify.

Gretel was now quiescent. She lay on her back, breasts heaving, and her hair, completely tousled by her thrashing, was splayed across her face. Her arms rested above her head, hands still clutching strips of the sheets she'd torn. One leg was upright, bent at the knee, while the other, bent at the same angle, was flat against the bed. De'Boril could clearly see the mixed blood and semen that was slowly oozing from the girl's abused vagina. Damn, she was beautiful!

De'Boril watched patiently, his need abated. He was now much more clear-headed, but he felt none of the guilt he knew he was supposed to feel. What he had done was right! Right and proper and needed! His attention now was on what further effect, if any, his load would have on the girl. While he waited for her to rouse, he pulled on his clothes.

Minutes later, the maid groaned. She absently brushed her hair away from her face, and de'Boril watched as her eyes slowly fluttered open.

Gretel didn't know what had happened to her. The master...He was raping her. Yes, she remembered that. Still staring at the ceiling, Gretel recalled the pain and shock and terror. She recalled his painful penetration. But what she remembered most was the stunning effect of his cum as it pumped into her. The orgasms induced had knocked her out!

De'Boril watched the girl's eyes open. At first, other than pushing her hair away, she did not move. Then, ever so slowly, he watched, smiling grimly, as she almost unknowingly traced her hands down her body, teasing nipples, tracing nails along sensitive skin. He heard her small sigh as her fingers found her clitoris, and the moan that quickly followed. Yes, she was truly his now.

"Enough girl. We have guests above, remember?" Gretel, startled, looked over at him with wide eyes. Her fingers never left her pussy. De'Boril watched the girl's expression change, from shock and fear, to acceptance, to burning desire. Yes, she'd given herself over. There would be no resistance from her again. That is, unless he wanted her to resist! The nobleman was struck with how much she now resembled the image he had pictured while masturbating earlier. The wanton look on her face almost made him want to take her again, right now!

The maid, one hand still teasing her clit, slowly raised herself up, angling slightly to give de'Boril an ideal view of her body. "Please sir, just once more?" The noble caught the glittering dampness that covered the girl's fingers. She was really wet now, from excitement, not virginal blood or cum.

"Enough! Get your sweet little ass up to your room and dress, and don't let anyone see you. We have much to do." He paused, thoughtfully eyeing the horny slut his first floor maid had become. "Yes, we have so much to do." The last he spoke under his breath as he turned away. The girl, disappointed at being abandoned, finished herself off with her fingers. Yes! Oh, yes! The orgasm was nowhere near what she had experienced as the master took her, but it would have to do, for now. She slipped from the small bed, gathered up her torn and useless clothing, and casually walked out of the room.

She didn't slow as she passed through the lab, though she could feel the master's eyes rove over her exposed body. She shivered at the thrill of it. She knew he was watching her slim waist, swaying hips, her firm derriere, her tight calves. If only he would take her again! Gretel felt her vaginal moisture, mixed with the blood of her pierced hymen and the remnants of de'Boril's lust, slowly making its way down her inner thighs. The sensations only fired her lust!

De'Boril watched the girl until she passed through the lab door. Ah, that potion! I don't know what effect my semen had on it, he thought, but it obviously binds women to me, once I have taken them. He wondered whether there was any effect on men that had had sex with a woman once he'd had them. Well, we'll just have to see. Leftenant Lyle should be more than willing to warm his bed with a hot little thing like Gretel! Sir Gerard de'Boril laughed with delight.

Continued in Chapter 3

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