EXTRACT FOR
Angelica Chained
(Author Unknown)

Chapter One

A Mission For Lucinda



    I must confess I've always wanted a virginal, foxy, youthful girl to service my extraordinary amorous appetites for at the very least, an entire weekend. Oh I'm not talking about a purchasable slut that you can hire on any dock in Bristol. I'm not talking about any street walking hussy you can procure in down town Paris or near Piccadilly circle. No I've always wanted something special. I've always wanted to thoroughly corrupt and exploit the fresh, unsullied charms of a lovely young innocent. I've always wondered what it would be like to turn a shy, inexperienced girl into a whimpering feline slut who craves cock more than food or drink. I've always wanted to thoroughly enjoy such a divine little creature strictly for my own use and enjoyment. Just think of it! The sheer delight to wallow in some sexy youthful slip of a girl and rut inside her until she squeals in primal ecstasy, even if it takes days to totally corrupt her. It would be such pleasure to drain cum by the proverbial quart down her sleazy gullet and watch her drink my seed gulp after satisfying gulp. 

    My current mistress is a well-trained sleaze by the name of Lucinda Montez. She's part English and part Spanish so she has the light skin of the North and the fiery passions of the South. She's a delicious dark haired bitch with an irresistible blend of molten lust and upper class breeding. Her only drawbacks are that she is too experienced, being almost twenty-three now, and I've been fucking her incessantly for over six months. That's a long time for a jaded aristocrat like me. Jaded you say? How can a twenty four year old rake be jaded already? Well I got an early start and a series of well-endowed and exceptionally talented mistresses have been instrumental in increasing my keen appetites to a fiery, feverish pitch.

    So one evening I tell Lucinda my peculiar fantasy. She replies, 

    "Oh you are the wicked one, aren't you? I suppose I better find the right kind of girl for you to debauch or you'll send me packing. I've heard about how you go through mistresses. For an upper cruster you've got a really insatiable prick. I suppose you'll want to tie her down and fuck her helpless little pussy for hours and hours and hours, you utterly depraved stud."

    I grin in admiration at her voluptuous nakedness that I've just thoroughly plundered for the last two hours. I can still see my cum oozing out her fuck hole like a tiny glistening stream wending it's way through a pleasant wooded valley. 

    "When you are right, you are right Lucinda my sweet. I want to use every inch of this innocent that you think you can obtain to service me. Do you really think you can con a virgin into coming to my abode? Hmmmmm?"

    "You just let me worry about that you dirty letch. But I want to watch the whole thing. I want to give instructions to both of you. I intend to add spice to your romp by servicing your cock with my mouth and holes as well as hers. After all, I deserve a special reward for providing you with such a dainty morsel of unsullied flesh. Besides if I'm getting dicked in my most tender places, I'll think of very nasty things for you to do to your simpering little virgin that will make the little bitch's blood boil. I'll get her to cum all over your huge cock."

    "So do you think you can find such an enchanting creature for me to completely enjoy?"

    "I have many contacts in dear old London town. I'm sure I can find and coax some poor young thing for a few shillings to visit the lord's manor. What would you like her too look like?"

    "She must be no more than five feet high and shorter if possible. Her hair must be the color of that golden hue peculiar to sunny dawn. Her eyes must be deep blue. Her cheekbones should be high and her nose perfect in shape and per portion. Her lips should be lush and a bit on the thick side. Her breasts will probably be small but they should be firm and well shaped. She should be slender and above all she must be a virgin."

    "In short my libidinous lord you want just the opposite of what I happen to be."

    "Yes, you are dark and mysterious. Your body knows every sophisticated sin that it has been my privilege to completely enjoy. Your tits are like large mounds of satiny softness. Your passionate cries and moans are erotically musical and so damned provocative. If there were another man in the room he could get off just by listening to you. You are the epitome of feminine depravity. There isn't a sexual vice in or out of the book you haven't mastered."

    "Thanks for all those lurid compliments. I've always wanted to see how innocence becomes visceral. It's been so long since my first time I can hardly recall."

    "I suppose it was some awkward youth who found you in a hayloft?"

    She laughs at me. "Something like that! Now stop talking and start fucking me again! I'm still hot!"

    Well it took some doing. Although Lucinda has many contacts they are mostly in the seedier areas of the well-established sex trade. In her line of work, finding a virgin is like trying to track down a particular ant in a thronging anthill. I mean it wasn't just finding a virgin but it was finding a beautiful young innocent that would fit my very specific qualifications. All I can say is about a week and a half later on a dark, foggy Friday afternoon, a particularly fancy team of well groomed horses drawing an excellently appointed carriage stopped in front of my elegant town house. Sure enough, Lucinda was regaled in her most richly styled apparel complete with a midnight blue cloak and beside her she was guiding a forlorn looking waif to the front door. I could see all this from my study window. I saw Lucinda pay the footman and he got back on the front seat, cracked his whip and they quickly disappeared into the smoky fog that ceaselessly envelops our famous city.

    I like Kensington of course. For the most part only persons of quality, distinction and superior class live in its stately mansions and sumptuous town homes. I suppose a few decidedly obnoxious individuals have been able to buy their way into the odd home here because of their good luck in some trade or other but for the most part this is a community of the very well to do. That to some extent would explain the blank look of wonder on the bedraggled urchin's face as she was practically dragged by Lucinda to my front door.

    Now you must understand that all my former mistresses were of excellent quality and breeding. In some cases they were the bastard daughters of men of rank. They were all well educated and for the most part were business minded women who new they wouldn't be in demand forever. As a result they were very careful with their money, saving it as carefully as the most miserly of investors. To be sure I commend and encourage all my foxy sluts to prepare for the day when men will not give them a second look. 

    My first luscious piece of prime pussy was Desdemona, a mature lady in her early thirties. You must understand I was only fifteen at the time. My illustrious uncle introduced us and gave her the most enrapturing references.

    Soon she introduced me to the wonders and thrilling excitement of unrestrained lust. This fiery harlot taught me how a woman wanted to be used so that her pleasure would equal mine. She often told me that even though a mistress was being paid she still wanted to enjoy her work. I always had a thing for mistresses with exotic names like Desdemona, Leticia, Mariana and of course the exotic Lucinda. The Mary's and Kate's and Linda's of this world seem plain and unrewarding to me, although I suppose if one were beautiful and talented enough I would give such a likely wench a definite go. 

    It's true I'm wealthy having inherited a sizable fortune from my father, the late lord Easting, but my wants are actually quite small. I maintain two households, one in Kensington and another near Lincoln; after all a man of position can't be expected to live in just one domicile. What would others of my class say? I would be the laughing stock from Northumberland to the Isle of White if I was pedestrian enough to live in just one home. But I don't gamble, never have. It just isn't exciting to watch someone's fortune depend on the drop of a card or the speed of a horse. I can't understand it at all. It is as mystifying to me as the filthy habit of tobacco. I suppose all men have their vices or weakness. Some are addicted to wine, others to power, still others to the vagaries of the markets or to collecting rare coins. I have no such weaknesses save one. I am hopeless addicted to the carnal pleasures of hot, writhing pussy. I can't get enough of it. Night after night and most mornings I must couple long and luxuriously. I need variety too. I need to experience different types of women in all shades and shapes and motions. It's so strange really. My father was very puritanical. My grandfather was a bishop. It often amuses me to think of what the old bible-thumping bastard would say if he could see me rutting with one voluptuous whore after another. Well, he'd have to admit one thing, I have good taste and my varied and hot wenches all taste good to boot. But I digress, you are wondering about the little innocent waif that Lucinda has just ushered into my front hall. Of course my butler Smithers is horrified at this unlikely spectacle. Naturally he knows of my insatiable proclivities, but to see such a lowborn creature enter my house was too much even for him.

    "I beg your pardon sir but do you wish to admit this..... this." Further description of the waif eluded his impressive vocabulary. Smithers is the son of a prominent banker. Unlike many butlers he is married and he spends his evening at home which suits me quite nicely. He doesn't have to be around when I am entertaining and being entertained. When I'm in a really randy mood I sometimes give him the entire morning or afternoon off. He just shakes his head in mock disbelief and says, "Very good sir." Of course being of excellent breeding and education he pronounces sir as sa as of course I do as well. I only pronounce sir as sir when talking with a menial or inferior trade person. You understand I must keep up appearances in speech, manner and public deportment. However what I do behind closed doors in the privacy of my bedroom is nobody else's business. 

    You probably wonder at my voluptuous appetites and wanton desires and at this early stage in my life I can only seem to understand the outer edges of such conduct. You see I always feel alone. I can be in a large crowd at an exciting opera or sporting event and I feel utterly bereft of human company. I can be in a drawing room with three or four good friends or relatives and even in the very act of speaking or laughing with them I feel solitary, almost like a cool, disinterested observer gathering grist for a newspaper article or such. But when I am with a rutting, panting slut it all changes. When my rigid cock is driving and twisting inside a wriggling clutching cunt and my hungry kiss is answered with passionate reply I no longer feel alone. I feel alive, robust, human and divine at the same time. My need for female companionship is totally beyond my control and I am thankful that the monetary cost of such past times is relatively modest when compared to the excesses of others in my station. I've seen gentleman squander hundreds of pounds on a single wager at a horse race. Why I can hire the services of an exceptionally talented lady for a hell of a lot less than that for an entire year. I think the most I've ever had to pay any of my sluts was 20 pounds for a month. You see I'm still single. So I don't have to hire out an apartment for some sassy piece on the side. I don't have to cover up my tracks to keep a jealous wife in the dark. So that keeps my costs down. Also, I usually only hire one harlot at a time. I don't mind the occasional duo but it's usually around the time I switch partners. For about a week the departing slut and the incoming slut share my bed and the lady that is going to leave shows the new comer all the naughty tricks she'll have to perform in order to keep me in the trim. 

    As you might imagine, as time has gone on I have become more discriminating in the quality of vaginal performance. I must feel the wenches hunger and depraved urges as she makes the beast. Her oral skills must be exquisite and expressive. She must be able to service me with her ass as well. When I couple with a hot, willing wench she must be wild, eager and completely uninhibited. I want to thoroughly enjoy every inch of her skin. I want to explore every carnal part of her warm, moist insides. I need to spray my seed into all three places time after time. I love different positions from her riding a top me to the interesting doggie style to me driving into her from on top, riding the blazing bitch like a knight riding a war horse. When I am fucking I am truly alive and no longer alone. I am sharing and being shared. I am one with another joined in mutual sin thrilling adoration.