The Tonisian Distillation - Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Lord Gerard de'Boril spent the majority of the day after his arrival creating a list of potential 'converts'. He already had a wide base of support within the Principality, due to his military skills, but with that popularity came a price. A large number of the Principality's elite feared him for the support he held. While he chose to remain on his lands outside of Tonis, they were content to do nothing against him. With his arrival in the city though, certain individuals were bound to act.

De'Boril chuckled as he read Leftenant Lyle's note at breakfast. The short missive had arrived at the crack of dawn, and in a few brief sentences, informed de'Boril of Julia de'Forst's 'conversion', as well as her interest in Marcus Alint. As it turned out, Alint was a long-time friend of de'Boril's, but knowing that he was certain to remain a friend was reassuring. Now Aria, Marcus' wife, she might need some attention...

The Prince's Gala was scheduled for the next day, but de'Boril had plenty to do in the meantime. A number of the names on his list, in fact the majority by far, were men. He would need some special women to snare them, and while his maids were likely up to it, and more than willing, the logistics of getting them where they needed to be would be daunting. There was not one but two formal balls that evening though, and there would be a number of ladies there that would come in quite handy.

Of course, there were ladies on his list as well, and he would take great pleasure in seeing to them personally.

The morning passed quickly and soon enough de'Boril was preparing for the first event. The Halvminster Clan was holding a Ball in honor of the Prince's Gala. De'Boril imagined that most of the Principality's senior officers would be there, as honored guests, as well as a large percentage of the peerage. He had received his own invitation some time ago, though Theodore Halvminster did not likely believe he would put in an appearance. The two men disliked each other intensely. Halvminster owned a huge percentage of the country's mercantile fleet, and had substantial influence over the parts that he didn't. With Halvminster under his thumb, a sizable chunk of the opposition he expected to face would no longer be a factor.

De'Boril found young Nigel between the legs of one of the local maids. The boy's seed could not evoke a lasting bond, but he still had the 'touch'. The girl, her skirts thrown over her head, was frantically humping the boy's cock. Nigel was gritting his teeth, sweat beading his brow, his need obvious.

"Come on then, lad, finish her off and go find Antony. I wish to leave quickly!"

Nigel's eyes widened, but he didn't quite pull away from the girl, who hadn't even slowed down at the sound of the master's voice. "B-be right with y-you, milord!" the boy gasped, before beginning to pound the girl in earnest. When he came, he sent the bit of fluff into a series of orgasms. As she convulsed, he scrambled up, reaching for his breeches, leaving the girl. She lay in the hay forgotten, breathing heavily, everything from her waist down as bare as the day she was born, her skirts still up over her head. Young, de'Boril thought, eyeing the small mat of damp curls between her legs, but not too young for the lad. She'd likely become a regular doxy of his...

In moments, Nigel had found Antony and the two were hitching the team. Before too much time had passed, Sir Gerard was on his way to the Halvminster Villa.

As de'Boril stepped from his coach, one of the Halvminster grooms appeared to take his hat and cloak. He relinquished them easily before entering the grounds. Within, as with many of the villas kept by the Noble Families in Tonis, there was a large court, park-like, with a crushed stone path leading up to the main entry. Well maintained shrubs were scattered about in a seemingly random pattern. Between them could be glimpsed a number of statues and a few massive stone fountains. A number of couples were wandering the grounds, enjoying the mild weather, making pithy comments about the Halvminster's taste in statuary, flora and, in the case of a number of colorful peacocks, fauna. Unnoticed by most, house guards patrolled the wall. Sir Gerard ignored the pageant, noted the guards, and strode directly for the Main Hall.

As de'Boril entered, the Halvminster Major Domo took one look at him, rapped his staff against the marble floor, and announced, "Sir Gerard de'Boril, Marquis of MalBoril, Commander, Tonisian Armed Forces, Retired." De'Boril didn't spare the man a glance, though he noted a number of people looking him over as he entered. He rarely put in an appearance at the various amusements the Tonisian Nobility seemed to partake in continuously, so his appearance here was something of note. He hoped their natural curiosity would lure a few of his targets to him without too much fuss.

Making his way down the shallow marble staircase, Gerard nodded to those that acknowledged his presence. Most he knew, some he did not, but all were minor players in the game he'd decided to enter. He felt as though he were a shark amid a school of unwary tuna, carefully choosing his next meal.

"My Lord."

De'Boril turned. Leftenant Lyle stood dressed in formal kit, complete with sword, looking quite dashing and drawing a number of glances from the nearby ladies. He stood almost at attention.

"Good to see you Lyle." De'Boril grinned. "I presume your lady is about somewhere?"

Friedrich returned the grin. "She's due to arrive shortly. I'm sure she'll be even more stunning than usual." Both men laughed.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, but a dance is about to begin, and I feel sure, Sir de'Boril, that you are quite capable on the floor."

The two men turned to regard the lady that had approached them. Lady Sasha de'Cort, Theodore Halvminster's sister, regarded the two with a slightly amused expression. The lady's husband had died of illness the year before, leaving the de'Cort holdings to her daughter's husband. Lady Sasha refused to live on the kindness of her children and had returned to the Halvminster estates. It was rumored that the striking woman's mercantile skills rivaled her brother's. She was in her early fifties, and still quite attractive. Both men bowed, and Lyle said, "I've not seen him dance, my lady, but I'll wager you're right." He turned, saying, "my lord, if you'll excuse me?"

De'Boril waved him away. "Look to your lady, lad, and enjoy yourself. I'll find you later and we can compare notes." Lyle nodded and was soon lost amid the crowd. Smiling at Lady de'Cort, de'Boril held out his hand. "If that was an offer, my lady, I'm quite incapable of refusing."

Taking the lady's hand, and almost immediately feeling the expected tingling, de'Boril stifled a smile. He was sure Halvminster had sent her over to discover why he was here, of all places, when it was well known that he detested both Halvminster and the typical amusements the nobility loved to indulge in. Lady de'Cort would uncover his secret, he was sure, but the effort was likely to cost her more than she expected...

And Lady de'Cort was just the sort of person he'd hoped to 'acquire' at the affair. As the dance began, de'Boril mused on the lady's potential, and was pleased.

Before the dance was even half over, Gerard could detect a faint flush beneath Lady Sasha's cosmetics. Her eyes gradually became slightly unfocused as well.

The dance finally came to an end. "My," Lady de'Cort breathed, staggering slightly, "I think I should get some air..." She held tight to de'Boril's arm, as if reluctant to lose him.

"Come, Lady Sasha." De'Boril led her through a set of grand doors, and, instead of taking her to the balcony, as she seemed to have indicated, he led her deeper into the House. "You seem ill, my lady," he said, "perhaps you should retire to your room and lie down."

"Yes..."

With a little direction from the lady, the pair soon arrived at the lady's suite. De'Boril entered without so much as pausing and led the lady to a settee in the corner. Leaving her for a moment, and well aware that her eyes, only half open, never left him, he returned to the door and threw the bolt.

"I'm not quite sure-"

"Hush." De'Boril silenced her, and drew her skirts to her waist. Lady Sasha continued to watch him, her breathing coming quickly, even aiding him in stripping off her pants, baring her surprisingly shapely legs as well as her hidden secrets. She did little more than murmur softly as de'Boril ran his hand familiarly up her inner thigh.

When de'Boril stood, the Lady Sasha remained as he left her, fully clothed from the waist up, her skirts gathered thickly about her waist, and bare as the day she was born from there down. Her bosom rose and fell rapidly, and her eyes gleamed, never leaving the man before her.

De'Boril loosened his belt and soon freed his member. His thick shaft captured the lady's attention fully. De'Boril stepped close, and without thought Lady Sasha's hands rose to grip him and to stroke him. Her tongue poked hungrily out a moment before she leaned forward, moaning, to take him into her mouth.

Gerard allowed her to suck him for a bit, watching expressionlessly while she struggled to free her breasts from their containment while continuing her fellacio. Freeing one, she gripped it savagely, pinching her reddened nipple fiercely.

She continued to service him wantonly for some time, but de'Boril was not content with this. She whined as he pulled free, and moved toward him, unwilling to stop. Her skirts dropped to the floor as she stood.

"No," he chided, "I'll take you according to my will, not yours. Come." The man took a firm hold of the lady's arm and led her to one of the many over-stuffed sitting chairs. He took her around the back and none-too-gently pushed her forward. With a small cry, Lady Sasha toppled over the back of the chair, which left her toes barely touching the floor. De'Boril immediately had her skirts up again, the heavy pile dropping to cover her head. She could feel the tingling warmth of his touch on her bare ass, and she couldn't stifle her cry when his penis entered her. She was powerless to stop him, hadn't wanted to stop him from the moment he'd first lifted her skirts, and now he was taking her as impersonally as a man could. Before he'd withdrawn and re-entered thrice, the lady had found her breasts once more. She was soon moaning and thrashing about, completely abandoning any attempt at salvaging her dignity.

From where he stood, the Lady Sasha had a mighty fine ass. De'Boril pressed forward, burying himself to the hilt within her sweet warmth. He could hear the lady's muffled cries and moans, and he allowed himself a triumphant grin. One hand on each smooth, creamy buttock, he pressed into her again and again.

A short time later, Lady Sasha thrashed even more energetically, her orgasm causing her to cry out and her body to convulse in rhythmic pleasure. "You're in for a surprise, my lady," de'Boril muttered, unheard by the woman before him, "if you thought that was good."

Feeling the pressure building, de'Boril did not hold back. He thrust forward; pulling the woman's hips back firmly, burying his cock in her slick folds as far as possible before the fire burst forth.

The shock of the first load brought the lady arcing upright, a screech of pure astonishment escaping her. De'Boril held her there, holding tight to her bare breasts as she continued to convulse, mute now but mouth wide open in a silent scream. He filled her with his taint, and that taint worked its magic. Moments later, Lady Sasha de'Cort collapsed unconscious in his arms.

Scooping her up, he somewhat carelessly tossed her to her bed, not bothering to cover her. As he waited for the lady to recover sufficiently, Gerard looked her over possessively. She was his now, he knew, and he liked what he saw. The woman was no longer in the full flower of youth, it was true, but she'd kept herself trim and neat, and she seemed much younger than she actually was. Such a woman, an attractive lady of the Peerage, would be invaluable.

He was fully clothed and sitting casually in the chair where he'd so casually fucked her, when the lady finally awoke. He watched as she pushed herself upright, touching herself in wonder as she felt the changes within her. When she looked at him from beneath the many strands of silken hair that had been freed during their encounter, he saw the now-familiar wanton need. "What have you done to me?"

Rising, de'Boril stepped close and offered his hand. Lady de'Cort accepted, not bothering to cover her nudity, and she allowed him to pull her up. Looking into her eyes from inches away, and all too aware of her bare breasts brushing lightly against him, he said, "I've claimed you as my own, my lady."

De'Boril went on to explain the situation, and as they left the apartments, both now once more suitably presentable, Lady Sasha de'Cort had come to realize that her entire life had just changed forever.

The End?

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