The Countess Ch. 2

[author's note: I hate this chapter with every fiber of my being. I feel like it's the bane of this whole novel but I need it for two reasons. I've redone it so many times it's like I can't even see it for what it is anymore. I can't even adequately express how blocked I am with this chapter.]



The maiden entered his room, carrying a basket. Now that he was recovered, more or less, the countess had the prisoner placed in the toy room. Rings were welded all over the iron frame of his bed. Tonight, his cuffs where locked to its corners, spreading his arms and legs in an X. She brought a stool next to his bed and lay the basket on it.

When she turned to him, he was looking at her. "Hi," she said. He didn't respond. She lifted the basket to her lap and sat on the stool. Digging in the basket: "Welcome to the castle. I don't suppose anyone has welcomed you." She took a jar out of the basket and lay the basket on the floor. He stared at her. She opened the jar, scooped some salve in her fingers and began applying it to his wounds.

She was surprised he spoke. "Who is that woman?"

Circling her fingers delicately over his welts, "She is the Countess Lemuil. She is a powerful woman. No, she isn't," she corrected herself. "She is a woman with powerful friends. And her husband is powerful." She heard a tink as the loop on his cuffs knocked the iron frame of the bed.

The maiden began putting the salve on his testicles. Tink, tink, tink. His legs twitched. "She just wants to keep you, play with you, like a fun servant. There will be a lot of pleasure. She will always want to hurt you but it will be better for you if you submit. If you don't, she'll hurt you more, she'll keep you in bonds all the time, she'll subject you to cruelties you can't imagine. If you submit, she'll let you roam around on your own. If she comes to trust you, this could be almost nice for you." The tinks were getting a bit louder and more frequent as she spoke. She lay the salve in the basket and stroked his penis as she gently played with his testicles. "Shhh. It's okay. You're with me. I don't want to hurt you. I won't hurt you."

She stroked his penis lightly, watching it grow as she pet it like a little animal. He watched her cautiously but his pelvis was moving. She waited until he was fully erect before she stood and removed her clothes.

Climbing on him to straddle him, she said, "You and I can have a lot of secret fun. She doesn't have to know. This doesn't have to be bad for you."

She guided him inside her and lowered onto him. He pushed his head back and groaned. Grinding him, working her hips in small circles, reversing direction occasionally, she heard the tink, tink, tink of his cuffs against the frame as she stared into his widely opened eyes. It was the look of somebody seeing a rainbow for the first time and she thought he might be a virgin. She leaned down, bending her back forward, and took his nipples into her mouth. Each one she licked delicately, bit lightly, sucked hard. She rose, took the nipples between her fingers, pinched and pulled so they rose as though he had tiny breasts. He was lifting his head off of the bed, his mouth was now wide like his eyes. He made small choking sounds, shut his eyes tight and let out a loud moan as he came inside her.

He looked at her, perplexed. "I...I...don't..." She put her finger on his mouth.

"Shhhhh," she said. She lay on top of him. She kissed his mouth. She kissed his forehead.

"Thank You," he said.

"Shhh. It's okay. Let's just lie here and talk," she said, slipping to the side. She lay her head on his shoulder and he moved his head to rest on hers. "Tell me, how did you learn letters?"

"My mother's employer. She was a cook for a Marquis. There was a crawlspace that led to the library, where the children were taught. I used to sneak back there to watch their lessons. I did that until my mother was dismissed. I learned a lot of useless stuff but some of it was useful. Like letters. But the dismissal ruined our lives. It got bad after that."

"Why was she dismissed," the maiden asked.

"She became pregnant. My father was five years dead so it was rather a scandal. The Marquis did it. He was the father. He knew that. I knew that. The staff knew that. I think that even the Marquess knew that. All the more reason to get rid of my mother."

She stroked his penis, not knowing how to respond. The poor man's whole life was tyrannized by royalty. It was best to change the subject again. "You like that? Scribing?"

"Yes. You mostly help people read letters from their family and friends. Or write them. That's nice. It's nice to do that." He sighed as she replaced the jar in the basket. She wiped her hands on her skirt.

"That does sound nice," she said. "What's so important about those papers they want?"

"A signature. At the bottom. Two of them. They make the papers special." He was shivering.

"Maybe that's where they are. Maybe one of them who signed it has got the papers. I mean, if you really don't know where they are."

"Those people are dead," he said.

"You sure? Maybe they just had people say they was dead, so they wouldn't end up..." She was going to say 'like you' but decided against it.

"I watched them die."

"You killed 'em?!" She said, dismounting. He waited for her to sit on the stool before he answered.

"No. Another man did. That woman called him Moonday." The maiden smiled inwardly when he called the countess 'that woman'. She'd never heard her called anything so irreverent. It was almost exciting.

"You saw them die," she said.

"Yes."

"He made you watch."

"Yes," he said.

"Do you know where those papers are?"

"No."

She stroked his penis again. It was sticky from the salve and her own lubricant. "How horrible for you." She rolled off the bed and dug into the basket.

"I imagine it was worse for them."

"I guess that's right." She took another jar from the basket and opened it. "Oh, I was going to tell you. She has another new, toy. You won't be the only one she plays with. When her husband gets back with the other prisoner, she won't be concentrating on you. She'll have two toys."

"Toy?"

"Sorry." She lifted his head to the jar, pressing it to his lips.

Between sips, which she forced by turning the jar up repeatedly, "No, don't be...I didn't mean...I didn't know what this...was. I thought...it was like that...I just wasn't sure...you say toy...now I think...yeah, that's...that's good...I don't need..****ease...I've had enough..." He closed his mouth and turned away. She pinched his nose shut hard and pulled it until he was facing the ceiling. There was a bit of struggle as he held his breath, eyes darting about frantically but he soon opened his mouth for air. She let him snatch a bit of breath before pouring the fluid into his open mouth. She couldn't tell how much of it she'd actually gotten down his throat. There was a lot on the bed. That was okay. She didn't have to sleep in it.

She extinguished all the torches while he coughed and choked, keeping one torch to take out with her. She went to him, kissed his lips softly and said, "Sleep. You need your sleep."

He cleared his throat, swallowed hard and said, "What did you just make me drink?"

"Shhh. Just try to sleep," She stroked his forehead.

"I feel strange." He furrowed his brow deeply.

"Shhh." The hoop on the cuff clinked on the frame. Tink. Tink tink. Tink. Tink tink tink. She stood over him and slapped him hard across the face. "Log off." Then she left, shutting the door behind her, leaving him in an impossible blackness again.





The maiden undressed immediately upon entering the Countess' chambers and crawled onto her bed. The countess loosed her breasts which the maiden took in her hands and mouth, paying homage. "So, what did you learn?"

Releasing a nipple in order to speak, she said, "He told me about the papers. They were signed by somebody and that's what makes them important. Says he doesn't know where they are." The maiden kept her hands on the countess' breasts as she spoke, stroking them.

"Of course he did. What else did he say?"

"The gargle man...."

"Moonday," the countess corrected.

"Yeah, him. He killed people and made Evert watch."

"What else?"

"His mother was a cook for a Marquis. It's how he learned letters. He hid and watched the lessons being taught the Marquis' children." The corner of the countess' mouth stretched and lifted into something that managed to be a smile and a snarl at the same time. It stopped the maiden from speaking.

The countess finished the maiden's story. "A widow. She became pregnant by the Marquis and was dismissed in disgrace."

The maiden sat up. "How'd you know that?"

She took the book, almost finished, from the table beside her bed and gave it to the maiden. "It's the plot of this novel."

"That book's about him?" The maiden was enthralled.

The countess took a deep breath. She lifted her skirt and knees, spreading the latter. "No, the book is not about him." She grabbed the maiden's head and pulled it into the curly hair between the soft slopes of her thighs. "Help me think."

Shwenn, this continues to be a good and interesting story. I did enjoy this chapter, but perhaps not as much as I could have or should have. I think perhaps this is why:

The dialog is very good, however particularly in the first half of this chapter, much of the narration feels like an outline or draft that you intended to flesh out later, but never did.

Look at the first paragraph here, and then compare it with that of the first paragraph in your first chapter. The beginning of your story opens with rich descriptions of her sharp nails, the folds of fabric of her dress—things that intrigue and make a reader want to read on. This second chapter’s opening paragraph is just simply not as strong or descriptive.

Take care to grab every opportunity to titillate your reader. “The maiden began putting the salve on his testicles. Tink, tink, tink. His legs twitched..” this is really is kind of flat and uninteresting to read and especially when you stop and consider how fucking red hot it would be in reality. “She stood and remove her clothes..”, “She guided him inside her and lowered onto him.” Again, these are missed opportunities. Remember, little perverts like me really appreciate details.

The second paragraph, you’ve used the word “basket” four times in a many lines. (And twice in the short paragraph before that) Repeating words too closely can quickly bog a story down and make it feel very repetitive—because it is.

Ok, I know it must seem like I’m really knocking the stuffing out of your writing here. I did enjoy this chapter, but just not as much as the first. And, I wouldn’t be responding to this post if I didn’t think it was worth while. So, keep it up..*gg* the story that is because I'm looking forward to reading more. :)

Looks like an interesting story! Please contimue.

I'm guessing that the difficulty is with exposition--when you have the characters explain what's going on to each oother and the reader.

One possible way is to insert your own narration for a paragraph or two, with the understanding that this a summary of what the character is saying. It may be less awkward.

Or, there may be an interesting way in which one character reacts as the other tells their story; this can help break up long chunks of monologue.