Correction to Part 1. In part 1, I mentioned the use of viagra. Unfortunately it was not a processed medicine as such. In Post-Victorian England, it was the powdered coca leaf possibly mixed with powdered garlic and ginseng, although I've gone through my pharmacological history and can't find the particular recipe or what it was called. However, I am confident that in time, I will find the appropriate entries. Again, apologies for my historical lapse and my thanks for your tolerance.

---

Party Of The Second Part - Elena's Game

Elena had been purchased in Spain and brought to England as a hand-servant for Don Felipe and Don'a Maria's daughter. However, Rosanna, their daughter, had thrown a tantrum when the young girl, twelve at the time, had misplaced some jewelry and demanded that she be gotten rid of on the spot, demanding that her head be lopped off and ending her stupidity. After some bickering, the Count had interceded and proposed an exchange for one of his young indentured servants. To have some peace and not wanting to kill the young girl on his host's estate, Don Felipe had agreed. The Count had no designs on the young girl, preferring older and more experienced women. Women trained to the whip and bridle - pony-girls so to speak - so he never touched Elena. However, Elena had her own desires and she was no virgin. She'd had a boyfriend, Rodolfo, an older farm worker back in Spain and they'd led an active sex life since he'd taken her virginity - she'd been nine and he thirty-one - and she sorely missed his stiff cock plowing her wet little furrow.

The Count and Countess had been engaged in sexual games upstairs in their bedroom with a couple from the village. The occasional sound of a whip cracking and a muffled scream filtered up to them. Elena had been on duty as the night maid and had served a bottle of wine up to the Master's bedroom. She'd tried to avoid looking, but the sight of the well-built young man servicing the Countess and the young woman strung up on the bedposts, her back welted from the Count's riding whip, was unavoidable.

It hadn't taken long for Elena to understand what was going on. She had some knowledge of bondage and whip discipline and the Count and Countess often rode through the estate in a carriage pulled by a matched team of women. She'd listened in rapt fascination, for a long while, to the racket upstairs. Her tan, slender hands busily exploring her own feminine root as she listened and let her imagination take hold. Her mind came back to Tom and the long, thick bulge in his jodhpurs. Besides Gardener and Butler, he was the only man in the house - the only man who lived in the house. All the other servants lived in the nearby village, even Elena was housed outside the mansion. Elena frantically diddled herself and brought herself to several, unsatisfying orgasms - unsatisfying because she wanted something long, hard and stiff inside her, not her own slim little fingers. She finally felt so desperate, that she convinced herself to trip up to the fifth floor garret to, at least, see how Master Tom was doing. Never mind that it was still only four in the morning.

As she got to his door, she hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorbell. She pulled her hand back then stretched it out again for the doorbell. Suddenly, she heard a noise from inside and hurriedly stepped into the shadows of some large statuary. As she watched, Tom came out with Genie in his arms. Elena, at first, was too full of her own need to comprehend why the little girl might have been there, but as she watched him murmuring sweet words in her ear and the tiny girl smiled and hugged his neck, she began to understand. At first she was confused about what he might have been doing with her, but then the little things she'd seen before began to click together to form a picture. As the pieces fell into place, she realized that the old man and the little girl were lovers. When Tom came back, Elena had no idea of what she was about to do. As he opened his door, she hesitated, but spotting his still stiff, out-jutting cock slipping from between the wings of his dressing gown, she stepped up and pushed in with him.

Tom, was surprised at her sudden appearance. Elena's dress was disheveled from her busy hands and she stuttered, trying to think of something to say, her eyes locked on his thickly stiff, ruddy staff. He and Elena, like the rest of the staff, had gotten to be great friends, but her sudden appearance at his door was a total surprise.

"I, uhm, s-see you, uhm, ca-carrying Miss Eugenie and, and, uhm . . ." Elena's eyes remained fixed on Tom's bobbing cock, massaging her thumb nervously.

"I see," Tom, getting over his surprise, saw where Elena's eyes were fixed.

He knew a little of her history, knew that she'd been orphaned. He'd also been there when the swap was made for her. Although she wasn't a slave and was indentured like most of the others, she was treated almost as if she were a free person. As Elena stared needily at Tom's crotch, he let the pause stretch, watching her face. As Elena stared, Tom's cock seemed to stretch out and reach for her. It was only the second adult man's prick she'd seen and, where Rodolfo's had been darkly tanned, Tom's was mostly blue-veined and pale - "like live, Carrera marble," she thought, with the bluish veins and little flecks of pink tracing. It looked so very lovely to her eyes - so very welcoming. Then, as if her hands had minds of their own, she stretched out her shaking hands, slowly dropped to her knees, bringing the thick, heavy cock to eye-level, and caressed it softly. The warm feel brought back immediate memories of Rodolfo and their times together.

She remembered the sun-dappled foothills of the Pyrenees and how she'd always followed him out to the olive trees he tended and playfully helped him as he worked. This one day, he seemed a little more attentive than usual to her, seemed to have a certain hesitancy, his hands shaking a little as he caressed her head. She'd picked up that nervous under-current and, when he ran his hand innocently down her back, she arched into it, unconsciously pressing her little rump into his palm. He'd leaned to her then, eyes wide, as he stared into her eyes. She'd stared back, not understanding this new feeling in her belly, butterflies wildly flapping and a previously unknown eagerness in her loins. There was a strange feel in her panochita, a wet slickness she'd never felt before and she held tight to Rodolfo, pressing her ribs to his crotch. She felt an urgent need rising from her concha that he seemed to feel as he suddenly dropped onto the clean grass and rolled her under him. She felt the coolness on the back of her head, the warm breeze blowing across her bare, hairless concha as he lifted her skirt.

Neither of them bothered with underclothes. The days were too hot, the sweat too free for comfort. Instinctively, Elena spread her little-girl thighs wide. Rodolfo slid his hand down her belly to her wetly pouting panochita as he brought his heavy man's cock up to it. Elena whimpered her need, her high little-girl voice urging him on wordlessly. He cried out his pleasure as he slowly pushed his thick, cock's head between her hot, slick lips. Elena gave a hiccuping gasp and dug her heels into the grass, pushing her rump up, her little concha sucking him deeper. She was so very tight! So very, very tight!

"Perdóname, carin'ito," he'd whispered and slammed his stiff, thick prick as hard as he could into the yielding grip of her tight pre-pubescent pussy.

For a brief second, the wind was completely knocked out of Elena by the force and the sudden pain of his very stiff, shafting cock. Her mouth gaped, breathless for a few seconds before she pulled in a long, rasping gasp and gave voice to the mixture of very excruciating, if only temporary, pain. Her shrieking ululation was muffled by the canopy of olive trees. Rodolfo was too far gone to think of the sudden pain he'd inflicted on his tiny nin'a amante and plowed stiffly in and out of her. Elena had tried to push him off almost immediately, but as she got her breath back, she quieted and lay still under his large bulk, whimpering as his powerful cock pistoned in and out of her. As the pain eased, she felt in it's place, her previous lust rising. The feel of his heavily pounding cock slamming in and out of her began feeling plushly luxurious. She could hear the squishing of his staff punching in and out of her, slurping as it pulled out and squishing as it sank into her, creating an unimagined pleasure she'd never felt before. The butterflies in her lower belly settled and fed on the pleasure she began feeling.

"?Ay, Rodolfo!" she gasped in her high, little-girl voice.

"Uhm-m-uh-h-h," he grunted.

Within a few moments he'd opened her wide and was plunging cojones deep into her quivering pussy as he unloaded his heavy load of cum deep into her tiny pussy. She gasped and stiffened at the delicious burning of his heavy cream on her torn hymen. She hadn't cum. The pain was still too fresh. The burning feel of his cum on her bloody cherry still too intense, but she felt a pleasure in his cumming. She knew that it's what a man did. She'd seen her aunt and her aunt's lover enough times to know that much. As young as she was, she'd also heard of the pain when a woman's virginity was torn, she just hadn't been prepared for how intense the pain was. However, all that pain faded and, like women all over the world, all that remained was the delicious feel of his hot cum spurting into her. She loved that feeling. A little later, he wet his handkerchief and tenderly cleaned her off. He made her sit in the shade of the olive trees for the rest of the day as he went back to work.

He stopped for lunch during the hottest part of the afternoon and lay with her. They ate their lunch and he made love to her again. This time she saw the skyrockets blasting in her head and had several marvelous orgasms. She'd been like his shadow before and now grew even more attached to him. Over the next few days, he showed her how to please him with her mouth and even took her arse a few times, but anyway he wanted her, she was happy to let him have her. They carried on their love affair during the next year. The winter was the hardest on the two mismatched lovers, making it hard to get together since they couldn't go out into the fields they both enjoyed, but they found some hidden times for their pleasure. Spring soon came along and they were once more busy with the olives and pleasuring each other under them. By the following winter, they'd grown habitual in their copulating, growing almost careless. That following winter, they managed to find a few minutes each day to dally with one another and even a few times to make love. One day toward the end of that second winter, Rodolfo came to visit Elena at her aunt's home and found her aunt away at market. That was the day of their undoing. Elena's aunt came home earlier than expected and caught them on Elena's mat rutting like yearling pigs.

A few days later, Rodolfo was told not to come back for the spring planting and his wife kicked him out for infidelity. He moved to the next town to find work, promising to come back for his Elenita when he was on his feet and working again - a couple of weeks at the most. However, within the week, Elena's aunt, citing the need for money and that the little girl was eating her out of house and home, sold her into a ten year indenture to Don Felipe, through his agent, as a house maid and scullery help. The young Rosanna liked the little girl and took her as her maid and playmate.

And so now she found herself on her knees fondling the chauffeur's thick, stiff cock. Without asking, he picked her up and threw her on his bed. Elena was stunned out of her trance and whimpered as Tom dropped his robe to the floor. Stepping up to the bed, he undid the front tie of her pinafore, a kitchen-duty skirt, and with a couple of quick jerks, pulled the sashes free and threw the dress open. In the habit she'd grown used to as a little girl, she wore no panties and only a thin camisole top to protect her tender nipples from the heavy starch of the pinafore. Looking her sweet, nubile barely teen body over, he noted that she was wet and ready, assuring him that this is what she'd come up here for. Climbing between her legs, he took her knees and rudely pushed them up to her chest, rolling her wet pussy up for his stiffly pointing staff.

"Oh-h-h, please . . ." Elena moaned.

She wasn't sure if she wanted him to hurry or to stop. Either way, Tom plunged his rampant charger deep into her slickly wet cunt. Elena arched up into him, her head tossing back stiffly. Just the act of taking him inside her had triggered an immediate, intense orgasm. As she whimpered in ecstasy, she suddenly bowed her back, smashing her sloppy cunt-lips hard against his pelvis and taking his entire thick length deep inside her, ramming it hard against her cervix. Holding her knees up with his arms, Tom slammed heavily in and out of her. She was a smallish girl, having just turned fourteen, but her hips showed her growing maturity. Her breasts, having outpaced the rest of her body, bounced and jounced freely under her camisole as the old man pummeled his heavy cock powerfully into her. A short few moments later, she cried out in orgasm once again.

As she shuddered and quivered, she collared his neck and tilted her chin to her chest. She wanted to see his cock plunging into her, but her burgeoning breasts hid the view. Tom was about done in. The coca leaf and powdered herb extracts he'd taken many hours earlier was wearing off and, as he blew the last of his cum into Elena, he fell to the side. Elena rolled with him, barely keeping the head of his slowly deflating cock within the confines of her cunt lips. Suddenly shy, she ran her hands over his lightly haired, graying chest, staring at the vein throbbing in his neck as she wondered what to say.

"Is that what you wanted, you little cunt?" he whispered without anger, simply asking a matter-of-fact question.

"Uhm . . ." she nodded hesitantly.

"Well, then," he pushed her back and sat up, "wake me in an hour. I need to get ready for work. Do you have to go back to the kitchen?"

"Yes, Master Tom, but I already have the kitchen stocked and ready, so . . . I, uhm, I can remain and, and . .."

"That's good, then," he lay back and rolled onto his side facing her, "you may massage my shoulders and neck while I sleep."

"Yes, Master Tom," she quickly shifted to a more comfortable position behind him.

As Tom dozed off, she gently massaged his neck and shoulders, running her fingers through the fine, silvery hair on his head. As she kneaded his shoulders and neck, she wondered if he'd let her come back another time. Tom was soon snoring softly, his soft prick glistening wetly, inviting Elena's touch. However, she ignored the temptation for a long while. He wanted to sleep for an hour and she didn't want to displease him. She well knew the punishment she'd incur from the scourge if they were discovered and it would be only she that would suffer punishment for this deed.

At precisely five-forty-five, she stopped massaging and softly climbed out of bed, slipped out of her devastated pinafore and slid onto her side, her hungry lips searching out his flaccidly short prick as she lay a leg across his calves. Her warm breath brought a twitch from it and she quickly closed her lips around it. Holding the foreskin back with her lips, she sucked the softly wrinkled head into her mouth, washing it with her tongue and tasting his tangy cream. Once again she wondered if he'd let her come back. She missed the salty taste of a man's cum and this little taste of it and the quick fuck only whetted her appetite for more.

As Tom awakened, he reached down and caressed the young Spanish girl's lustrous, silky, dark hair. Like Genie - Eugenie Victoria Parker-Gotha - Elena bathed at least once a day, unlike most of her English counterparts who's only bath was if they were caught outside in a downpour and without an umbrella and he liked that. A nice, clean little girl. He'd worn his old prick out mostly on Genie and the aphrodisiac had worn off as well. All his soft cock could do now was twitch tiredly. However, it had been a grand night.

Genie had managed to keep up with him until he'd fucked all her holes and had finally went almost comatose as he threw her on her belly for a second - or was it third? - go round of arse-fucking. He loved her sweet, little arse, but now he was hungry. As Elena smiled up at him, he told her to dress and sent her down to start him some breakfast while he did a quick job of cleaning himself up. She dropped her eyes, her lips quivering and nodded.

"Yes, Master Tom."

Less than half an hour later, he was clean and dressed, sharply pressed jodhpurs, spit-shined riding boots, white shirt, blue, silk cravat and carrying his cap and jacket. As he approached the kitchen, he could smell the delicious odor of mutton sausages overriding the warm smell of fresh coffee. That was his American thing. Genie loved American chewing gum and he loved his American coffee in the morning. Stepping through the kitchen door, he saw Cook and her two assistants putting together the morning's sideboard. He saw Elena before she saw him, and smiled. When she saw him smiling at her, she blushed, flushing slightly darker than her honey-brown skin spreading over her face. She nodded and smiled back at him shyly.

Tom greeted Cook with a similar smile and a hearty "good morning, all." Cook looked up and smiled, her assistants busily laying out platters. The first-floor maid arrived and, tying an apron around her stiffly starched skirt, picked up the basket of plates and silverware to set the dining room. The scullery wenches arrived one by one and were quickly assigned jobs by Cook. Butler came down the stairs and greeted Tom as he poured himself a hot cup of tea.

"Good morning, Master Thomas," Butler set his cup across the table from Tom.

"And a good morning to you, Master Fotheringil," Tom returned, "and how are you this fine morning?"

"Oh, mostly fine, although I do believe that I may be catching a bit of a cold," he blew across his tea to cool it, dabbed at his nose and sipped.

"I believe it more likely a hay fever since it is getting close to spring and the pines are getting ready to send out seeds," Tom nodded.

"That may be," Butler demurred, "although I'd much rather it be a cold. These damn sinuses would, at least, have a rest within a fortnight, don't you agree?"

"Oh, wholeheartedly," Tom nodded and smiled up at Elena as she set a full plate and cup of coffee in front of him.

"Here, here, wench," Butler grabbed Elena's hand, "and where is mine?"

"Uhm . . ." she stuttered.

"Come now, Fotheringil, you must give the poor girl a chance," Tom frowned at Butler, "you arrived after I did and she had no foreknowledge of your arrival, isn't that so, my sweet," he turned to Elena and took her hand out of Butler's grasp.

"Of-of course, M-Master T-Thomas," she blushed again, her hand limp in Tom's.

"Very well. I shall accept that as an excuse," Butler continued in his supercilious tone, "however, in the future . . ."

"Yes, yes," Tom interrupted, "now let her go get you your breakfast instead of ranting on and starving yourself, hm?"

"Yes, go," Butler waved her away.

"By God, you are a pompous ass, Fotheringil," Tom chuckled as he cut into his food.

"I know, but good lord, what else do I have to amuse myself with," he chuckled as well, "and I do believe she may have a crush on you, you old goat."

"Um-m," Tom nodded, "and I most certainly would like to take advantage of that crush," he winked and tapped the side of his nose at Butler. Butler chuckled in appreciation, but Tom didn't let on by gesture, deed or word that he'd already taken full ravishing advantage of the young girl's body.

As he ate, he mulled over today's duties. Since today was Saturday, Genie only had half-a-day of school. Maybe when he picked her up they could stop by the old mangrove tree and have a little fun. After he delivered her back at the estate, he'd have to go to the chandler's and pick up the supplies and foodstuffs. As he sat back in his chair, Nanny came down the dining room stairs into the kitchen, heading directly for Tom.

"Miss Eugenie will not be needing transport to school today," she nodded at Butler as she addressed Tom, "she evidently had a small accident last night and feels a bit feverish, so I will keep her back today. Thank you."

Without further comment, she turned and made her way back. On the way, she paused and spoke to Cook, who nodded and turned back to her business. Nanny had probably asked for a small breakfast tray for Genie.

"My God, it was a delicious night," Tom thought to himself, smiling, his eyes fixed on a point behind Butler, "and she has such a wonderful arsehole."

Butler turned to see who the chauffeur was smiling at, but there was only an empty window staring back. Tom abruptly came back to reality and sat up straight.

"Well, since I have no further business for the morning, I believe that the automobile is in need of attention."

He watched as Elena was relieved of duty in return for her night's work. She walked out the door onto the garden path just ahead of Tom. Stepping up beside her, he smiled down at the sweet girl. They chatted as they strolled toward the garage which was by the service alley, a common shortcut into the town.

"Would you prefer to ride home?" Tom smiled down at the girl as they got to the garage.

"Oh, n-n-no, s -" Elena started to protest, then saw the roguish smile on his face and changed her answer, "wh-why that would be lovely," she smiled tremblingly, still a little shy and surprised at herself for last night.

"Then by all means," he held the back door open for her.

"Th-thank you," she gave him the tremulous smile once more.

"Raymond," Tom called out for the stable hand.

"Sah!" Raymond raised his head above one of the stalls.

A blond head wearing a bitless bridle peeked up over the edge beside Raymond's head. He had obviously been servicing one or more of the pony-girls.

"You may go and tell Butler that I am taking the car to Wainwright's garage for servicing - when you finish with your, ahem, servicing duties, of course."

"Sah! Yes, sah!" he grinned and both heads disappeared to a chorus of girlish giggles.

"Did he have all four trotters with him?" Tom wondered to himself, then grinned, "more power to you, my boy," and climbed in the driver's seat, shaking his head in awe.

Evidently Elena was thinking the same thing because, as Tom started the engine, she leaned forward to the open glass partition.

"Did he have all four trotters in there with him?" she whispered gaping at the stable.

"T'wouldn't surprise me if he had all four teams in there with him including that big, black riding slut," Tom laughed.

The count owned a number of pony-girls. Some of them he used as drudge labor, pulling plows and such - why waste horses - others were being bred and trained for market and as possible replacements on his carriage teams. Several he kept and was having trained for surrey racing, a few powerful ones he rode - his favorite being the Nubian black. He also owned the aforementioned teams of pony-girls for his personal carriages. These trotters were smaller, no more than five feet tall. Each team was comprised of four girls. One team was blond with honey-gold tans, another team was red-headed with pale, well-freckled, creamy skin, a third team was brown-skinned with coal-black hair and the fourth were a uniform, chocolate color with long, trailing, kinky hair. All the filly-cunts on each team had a look similar to each other and were similar in age and training - and Raymond loved the weekly servicing that was a part of his job.

"My, he must have the stamina of a -" Elena stopped herself, she'd been about to say stallion, "a lot of stamina," she finished, smiling weakly.

"He certainly must have," Tom grinned at her as she slid back, "perhaps when we get you to your apartments we could have a spot of tea? I could certainly use one."

Elena blushed and nodded then, realizing that he couldn't see her, she spoke up.

"Yes . . . perhaps - unless you prefer coffee? I have a few beans I could grind up for you, if you like."

A few moments later, they passed the front of her apartments, but Tom kept driving. She was about to mention that they'd passed her lodgings, when he turned the corner and she realized that he was going to the back. Wise move, she thought. He pulled up next to the back door of the tenement and stepped out, took the door for her and helped her out. As the stable attendant came up, he flipped the boy a half-crown and asked him to turn it around, he didn't know how long he'd be detained. The boy smiled brightly and winked as he bowed in acquiescence. Tom grinned and winked back.

Tom followed Elena's swaying hips up three flights, almost to the garret, before she stepped onto her landing, walked behind it and pulled out a big, brass key. She quickly unlocked the door and stepped in holding it open for Tom. The girl curtsied to him as he stepped inside and he smiled at that. Deference and humility. Good girl. Tom suggestively stripped off his jacket and cravat, laying them on a nearby chair, and set his hat atop the lot, then turned to inspect the room.

Elena's flat wasn't much. It was rather on the small side, just a bit bigger than his closet at the estate. She had a small bed - was it really a trundle bed? - in the corner behind the door with a small night chest beside it and a chest of drawers at it's foot. In the corner from the foot of the bed, was a hanger bar on which hung several starched uniforms. In the corner diagonally opposite from the bed, next to what almost looked like a kiosk but was probably the water closet, stood a small table with a hot plate and several small pots and pans. In the corner opposite the entrance door hung a very cracked, full-length mirror beside which stood what looked like another small night chest. In the corner itself, stood a small washtub on its side, not more than two and half to three feet wide. All in all, it was very plainly a very cheap flat for a young girl who didn't earn much. Tom guessed that she either hadn't stumbled on the housemaids openly secret way of making extra income at work, or refused to partake of it. A quickie fuck or a fast knobber for a houseguest was always good for a shilling or two and there were usually plenty of houseguests in and out. Even he had, on occasion, given an old girl a tumble for a few quid. It was discreet, quick and usually over without a fuss. While Tom had been inspecting the room, Elena had set the tea kettle on to boil.

"Tea or coffee," Elena smiled at him.

With a start, Tom realized that he'd been off thinking about Elena's current position.

"Eh? Oh, oh, yes, yes, please. Tea will do nicely, thank you."

"Yes, sir," Elena set out the tea tin and the tea pot, then quickly excused herself for a visit into the loo.

Tom nodded graciously and waited. As the seconds ticked by, he wondered what Elena was doing. He heard a couple of thumps in the tiny stall and a muttered "damn." Then, as the tea kettle began it's welcome whistle, Elena stepped out of the closet, smiled at Tom and grabbed the kettle. As she swirled the hot water in the pot, he examined the girl even closer. Coming out of the closet, he'd noticed that she'd changed from her work pinafore into a silk robe. It looked familiar and he stared at it for a few moments before he realized that he'd seen it on the Countess several times before.

"You wear that robe better than the Countess," Tom complimented.

"Thank you," Elena giggled, sounding a little more self-assured, "she gifted me with it once when I helped her. . ." she stopped, should she say what she'd done? After all the Countess hadn't given her permission to speak of her private matters.

"Yes, yes," Tom chuckled, "I heard about that fiasco. But the Count did give the poor devil's wife a small fortune, did he not?"

"So I heard," Elena shrugged, relieved that she hadn't had to tell.

She smiled up at Tom then went crimson at her thoughts and ducked her head as she spooned in some tea herbs and poured the steaming water over them. As they waited for the tea to steep, Tom smiled up at the standing girl and patted his lap with one hand, holding the other out to her. Elena smiled and hesitantly slid into his lap. She was more than willing and very eager to please. With a pleased grunt, Tom nuzzled her neck. She smelled a little sweaty, but still, it was a delicious smell. He guessed that she probably had to stand or kneel in the washtub to bathe properly. Elena sighed and arched her neck as the chauffeur nibbled on it, his hand slipping into the robe. As expected, she was naked under it.

Tom gave a satisfied sigh, letting some of his sexual tension slip through his caressing fingers as he stroked her softly rounded belly then down between her downy nether lips. Elena whimpered and spread her thighs as he pushed a finger into her. She was suddenly on fire. Her belly burning once again, hotter than it had this morning. Her eyes went wide, her pupils fully dilated as she stared up at the rafters, her cunt gushing as a hard orgasm slammed over her. She'd had no time to tense with delight and she jerked as Tom sank two more fingers into her, rubbing over her hot spot, that firmly yielding little knot that released her pleasure. Once again she jerked and gripped Tom's arm, pulling tightly on it as she clamped her soft thighs on his hand, her cunt sucking his fingers in as she came once more. Tom's prick was painfully hard, trying to push through the heavy, woolen jodhpurs.

After her second orgasm, she roused herself and stood, letting the robe slip off her shoulders to the floor, and pulled him toward the tiny bed. Tom hurriedly undid his belt and jodhpurs and, as she dropped back on the bed, pushed them and his underclothes to his knees and and lowered himself onto the young, spreadeagled girl. In the same motion, he slammed his stiff cock to the bollocks in her, his big, bulbous head ramming against the yielding firmness of her inner womb.

"A-a-agh-gh-h-h," the young girl whimpered, "yes, milord! Send me! Push me to the heights, milord! Oh, oh-h-h-h . . ."

No lord he, Tom only grunted, repeatedly ramming his stiff prick into her with all the power of his hips and grunting like a rutting pig. Elena embraced his head, pulling his suckling lips to her turgidly swollen breasts as he rocked her slight body back and forth under his ramming hips. She crooned soft words in his ear as he pounded into her with a wild abandon. The sharp "slap, slap, slap" of his hips spanking the insides of her thighs echoed off the bare wooden walls. She cried out joyously as her orgasm rippled through her, leaving her a helpless, shuddering lump.

"Oh-h-h, yes-s-s-s! Master Tom!!" she cried softly, "oh-h-agh-h-h!" as she came once more, her hips bucking spasmodically up at his.

Tom could feel his hot cum boiling in his bollocks and slowed his pistoning pace. Elena jerked again, grunting unconsciously, her eyes almost closed dreamily as she came once more. As she felt him slow his pace, she opened her limpid brown eyes wide and stared up into his icy-blue stare.

"I fed your pussy this morning," he smiled almost cruelly, "now I want you to drink my cum, feed it to you. I want your tongue dancing on my cock."

"Ooh-h, yes, Master Tom!" she smiled languidly, "please."

Tom slowly pulled out of her. She gasped as she felt the emptiness his thick prick left, but she quickly sat up and, as he leaned back against the wall which served as her headboard, she lay her breasts on his thigh, shook her long, dark-brown hair back and wrapped her lips around his heavy hanging cock's head. The taste of her inner cunt's jelly greeted her tongue and the aroma of his sweaty bollocks filled her nose. She truly loved this delicious flavor and the manly aroma rising from his heat. With a heartfelt moan, she pushed him deep into her mouth, pushing and pushing until he was down her gullet, her throat muscles squeezing and massaging as she swallowed convulsively.

Tom gasped in pleasure. Genie was still learning to swallow and tended to gag easily, but Elena was the experienced little slut. Rodolfo had taught her well how to suckle and please a man's cock. Tom reached out and tangled his fingers in her hair. Elena was well-used to this from Rodolfo. He had liked to grip her hair, almost tearing it out of her head in his lusty desire, and work her face up and down, controlling the depth and the speed of his plunging cock. Elena slipped her hands out of the way and gave Tom full control of her bobbing head. Tom felt a little surprised as she yielded to his control. However he did prefer full control and took full advantage of her willingness, pulling her head and burying his cock deep in her convulsing throat. His hands on her ears, he shook her head, twisting it this way and that before, letting her get a breath. Elena gasped, but she could feel his bollocks tightening and his cock twitching so she knew that he was almost . . .

Tom gasped and yanked her head hard onto his spewing prick. Sliding his hands to the back of her head, he pulled her head hard into his crotch, his prick pressing the last inch down her throat. Elena couldn't swallow. He was in too deep. His hot spermy cream burst out under the pressure of her squeezing throat and, unimpeded, directly into her stomach. Elena didn't fight. But she was out of breath, stars and pinwheels exploding behind her eyes. Tom let go as she convulsed, her eyes unfocused and dreamy, but she was unable to pull herself off. Gripping her hair, he yanked her head back, his prick popping out of her throat with a loud, vacuum-sounding pop.

Elena drew in a loud, shrill breath of air, wiped her face sloppily and smiled loosely, semi-comatose as his white cream drooled from the corners of her mouth. She lay on his thigh for a moment or two, gathering her senses and getting her breath back. Then she turned her face to his, hiccuped and smiled a wide, beatific smile.

"That was lovely, Master Tom," she whispered softly, "simply lovely."

"Yes, that it was, my sweet, that it was."

He caressed her hair and head for a few minutes. Elena closed her eyes and began snoring softly. He smiled and sat up, slipping her off his lap and pulling her pillow under her head. Then he stood and pulled his clothes up enough to walk freely and went into her tiny water closet to clean off.

After a final adjustment to his clothes, he tucked in the sleeping Elena, pulled his jacket on and left. As he closed the door behind him, he thought about locking it, but if she only had the one key, he'd be locking her in. Dropping to one knee he ran his fingers under the door and found it to be suitably wide. Going back in, he picked up the key, went back out, locked the door and sent the key sliding under the door. That done, he was off.