A few quieter chapters before a more fiery reprise. Good reading to you.
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The Baron can hardly contain his excitement when, neither too quickly nor too slowly, the door of the manor opens on a maid who, according to him, has long since passed the consummation date for a man to pull out his cock and stuff her.
As this woman suggests, he takes off his own orange linen jacket, but stops the gesture of his charming future wife who was about to do the same. With this detail settled, he and Rhea, who is still wearing the thick white fur coat that reaches her calf, follow the slow footsteps of the maid with the round ankles.
His old friend the prefect, who as everyone knows, is older than he is his friend, has no real taste in decoration. Apart from the few mouldings in the centre of the large chandeliers decorated with white crystals and the few paintings depicting banal hunting scenes that are hung here and there, presents her guests with a desperately empty ensemble.
"Mr. Prefect, Gentlemen, His Lordship the Baron and his future wife, make us the honor of enlightening us with their presence."
The introduction of circumstance, over, The Baron, who has put his arm around Rhea's arm, can't help yawning. He hears a voice coming from the drawing room inviting them to enter.
"Your esteem, Baron..."
"But isn't that our friend the Baron..."
"My dearest friend, such a pleasure to see you and what a divine woman you are fortunate enough to hold on to your arm. Madam, would you do me the honor of allowing me to kiss your hand."
The Baron extends his hand to the Prefect, warmly shakes the hand of the Mayor of Domas and before he greets the others, which are only pawns he moves as he pleases, he begins the obligatory introductions.
"Gentlemen, it is a real pleasure to see you all here in good health. Here is the one who in less than a month will bear my title and will therefore be your Baroness, Rhea...
Watching the men staring avidly at his wife, the pervert is preparing to launch his final attack.
...Rhea, This is my good friend, the prefect who manages my region on behalf of the king, Mr. Jobias. The man in a suit as dark as an undertaker's is the mayor of the main city of the region and incidentally, my childhood friend, Phil Somet... Darling, I know you love your new coat, but aren't you hot with all that fur on your back?"
Busy shaking hands that all refuse to let go of hers, Rhea squints when she hears this nasty question. She's not ashamed of her body. No, she's even proud of it and showing it excites her, but it's different when she's taken for a fool.
"I'm still a little cold, darling, so I think I'll keep my fur coat on my shoulders. Good morning, Mr. Mayor, it's nice to finally get to know you. My husband has given me a lot of..."
That little bitch is rebelling? Well, if she wants to play it that way, then all he has to do is encourage her a little to become a nice, obedient little slut. The Baron, who wears a charming smile on his face, nods his head towards the beautiful girl and discreetly puts his hand in the right pocket of his jacket.
No sooner has his index finger moved against the face of a small cube than Rhea freezes. To support herself, the pretty young woman, clinging to the wooden upright of the huge fireplace, and lacking oxygen, she breathes deeply several times.
The beautiful blonde is currently subjected to unspeakable suffering. She suffers from not being able to caress her pussy to calm her sex frenzy caused by the small steel rods implanted in her nipples and clitoris, which vibrate so fast that they send electric shocks to her most sensitive parts.
Seeing Rhea whose tongue caresses her lips and refusing to let one of her milk flow, stain her dress, the Baron stops his cruel little game. Under the astonished glances of his acquaintances, he joins the beautiful, slightly agitated girl. Tenderly, as a good and attentive husband, he takes the delicate Rhea in his arms and puts a passionate kiss on her neck.
When his lips touch her skin, Rhea almost jumps and turns around to stick herself against his body. The moment not being the best chosen and the great moment he was waiting for so long not having come true yet, he removes the little hand that just grabbed his sex through his pants and gently he pushes her away.
Just as gently, he places Rhea's back against his chest. To make it easier for his old friends to appreciate the oversized breasts of his personal whore, he arranges for the young woman's body to be placed correctly.
Unable to hold back his excitement, he bends down a little to stick his big sex against the little ass of the beautiful woman, who feeling the bump against her coat, starts to shake her hips.
The Baron knows that if he delays too long, his future wife won't take long before getting down on her knees to take his cock out of his pants and suck it. To avoid this problem, his arms quickly pass around her huge breasts hidden by the ample garment and in a small living room that has become strangely silent, he takes all his time to open the few buttons that keep her beautiful white fox coat closed.
His eyes spying on the faces of the eight men gathered in the room, for more pleasure, before opening the long fox coat, the Baron squeezes the enormous breasts in his forearms and when he opens it with a sharp jerk, two monstrous breasts barely concealed by a very thin red cloth, spurt out and swing quickly from right to left.
The two huge breasts of his beautiful one that wiggle by themselves immediately provoke the painful erection of eight cocks stretched to their limits, make the Baron's heart grow proud. He imagined this scene for a long time and now, faced with the success of his perfect plan, he does his best not to applaud himself.
Stupefaction, excitement, jealousy, desire, what he can read by observing the faces of the people present, whose gaze travels over the hot and unique body of his wife would get a hard-on any man, reminds him of this old friend, somewhat simple.
This poor Viscount who, for a few gold coins, made the mistake of abandoning a woman who could have made him millions in a very short time. As deplorable as it is, some men really have no business sense.
Sitting in front of a plate with disturbing contents, Rhea observes how the men around the table go about eating these enormous yellow snails whose disgusting appearance makes her fear that their taste is even worse than the sight they offer of themselves.
In the midst of a thorough study, her attention is suddenly drawn elsewhere. Her gaze is focused on one of her thighs, on which a wrinkled old hand is walking freely. The hand is thin, almost bony. It is not very sexy, but in order for several fingers to come and search her small soaked hole, Rhea, who furiously wants something to penetrate her entrails, opens her thighs wide.
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