Home of the White Dolphin - Segment 32

Chapter 156

July 28, 1887 –At the Boston home of Helen Moreau

Wayne remained standing by the sofa, looking down at Helen. A frown crossed his face when he noticed how narrow the sofa was. “Sweetness,” he said, redoing the flap on his trousers, “this won’t do. No, not at all.”

Helen sat up and hastily pushed her dress down to cover her naked legs. “I don’t understand. What did I do wrong?”

Without answering her, Wayne pulled her off the sofa and onto her bare feet. Not saying a word, he headed out of the living room. Stopping at the doorway, he looked back to see if Helen followed him. When he saw her standing by the sofa, not moving, Wayne gave a big sigh. “Helen, please come here. You’ve done nothing wrong, but I want you to be comfortable when I, when we, just get over here, please.”

“Wayne, I’m not sure about this.” Even while saying this, Helen slowly walked across the room toward the doorway. She admitted her curiosity about sex was stronger than her nervousness. Once the courts annulled her marriage, Helen vowed to never trust another man. “Do you think we can just be friends like we have been?”

Wayne shook his head. “Too late for that, Helen. I want you so badly. At night, I dream of you, of all the ways I can please you.”

“Please me? You mean, sex isn’t just for a man to enjoy?” Helen’s questions surprised Wayne, although he knew he shouldn’t be. In the past, he’d learned what a self-centered and selfish man his son was.

All during Rick’s teen years, stories had come to Wayne’s attention about the boy’s failed attempts to seduce neighborhood girls. Rumors spread, even among Wayne’s older circle of friends, about Rick’s small private parts and his inability to sustain an erection for long. He even knew his son’s schoolyard nickname was Little Ricky.

Wayne waited until Helen reached him before answering her. “If done right, a man can make a woman scream when he pleasures her.”

She smiled at Wayne. “Can you pleasure me? I’m sure I’d like that, at least I think I would.” Helen suddenly remembered certain words she read in the ship log. “If I let you read something, can we do that, too?”

“Not sure what you want me to read, but let’s go one step at a time.” Wayne took her hand and hurried into her bedroom. His trousers, tight to begin with, pressed painfully against his growing member. “Helen, hurry, no more talking.” When he reached the bed, Wayne sat on the edge and frantically undid the trouser flap. “Oh, I hurt so much.”

Helen came closer to the bed, wanting a better look at him. “Wayne, what’s wrong?” She leaned down, and her eyes widened in shock. Having only seen Rick’s rather meager genitalia, she began shaking her head at Wayne’s larger size and started backing away from him. “No, I’ve changed my mind. This won’t do at all.”

“Helen,” yelled Wayne, stopping her before she could leave the bedroom. “Get back here.”

Used to obeying her parents, without any hesitation, Wayne’s firm tone of voice caused Helen immediately to return. “What? I don’t know what you want me to do.”

Wayne rocked back and forth on the bed, his penis getting harder and more painful by the second. “I need you to, no, don’t, not that. Take my shoes off first.” He felt Helen’s long hair brushing against his crotch when she knelt on the carpet to pull off his shoes. When she finished and was about to get up, Wayne put his hands on her shoulders to keep her between his legs. “Helen, I want you to finish unlacing the chemise and pull it up over your head.”

After doing this, she remained kneeling between his legs, waiting for his next order. With his heavy penis only inches away, Helen tentatively touched the end of Wayne’s swollen rod with her fingertip.

Wayne shuddered as she grew bolder and wrapped her hand around him. “That’s it, Helen. You’re my eager little puss, aren’t you?”

Chapter 157

July 28, 1887 –At the Boston home of Helen Moreau

Helen felt awkward and vulnerable kneeling in front of Wayne. When he pulled her hand off his penis and helped her to her feet, she wondered what would happen next.

“Just stand there, sweetness,” Wayne instructed. Never taking his eyes off her, he quickly unbuttoned his shirt. “Let me get comfortable first, Helen, and then I’ll...” Wayne paused to take off the shirt and toss it onto the floor near her chemise.

“You’ll what?” Helen flushed when Wayne got off the bed, hooked his fingers in the waistband of his trousers, and allowed the material to fall down his legs.

“Do you like what you see?” Wayne laughed after he said this. “Well, let’s get into bed. No, wait.” He turned and pulled the blanket and top sheet down to the bottom of the bed. “I want to see you spread out on that sheet, waiting for me.”

When Helen moved passed him, ready to climb into bed, he gave her ass a gentle slap. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” He grabbed her before she could get away and forced her to lie on her stomach with her legs hanging off the edge of the bed. “No, don’t move, I’m not going to hurt you.” Another quick slap had Helen squirming, and Wayne delivered one last stinging blow. “Puss, you’re just too tempting in this position. Move that pretty ass onto the bed.”

Helen hurried to obey, scrambling past him. Remembering how fast Rick always took her, she lay down on her back and closed her eyes. His idea of foreplay always was to say, “Spread ‘em” before pushing his few inches into her. She always closed her eyes so she wouldn’t see his frustration turn into anger. Although his small penis repeatedly fell out of her, he’d keep trying. Rick managed to stay in, at least once, long enough to ejaculate and impregnate her. Now, Helen waited for his father’s order to “spread ‘em.”

“Why are your eyes closed?” Wayne fought to control his need to get inside Helen when he saw what she was doing. “Am I that hard to look at?” He waited until she opened her eyes and shook her head. “Good. I hoped not. What would you like me to do first?” Seeing the puzzled look on her face, he remembered the rumors about his teenage son’s one and only way to have sex. Maybe I’d better start with what she’s familiar with. She’s skittish enough as it is.

Wayne sank down on the bed beside her, and then slowly wedged a knee between her legs. “That’s my girl,” when Helen didn’t object. “I promise this isn’t going to hurt.” He used his hands to move her legs further apart and settled his body between them.

“Please,” begged Helen, not sure what she was asking of him. She could feel the heaviness of his penis on the soft area between her legs. This was nothing like what she experienced with Rick, and she tried to move out from under Wayne. “You have to stop. Wayne, no. You won’t fit.”

Wayne ignored her, knowing he would fit. He reached down between their bodies and guided his penis to her vagina’s waiting slit. When his swollen tip pushed inside, he heard Helen’s gasp. “Damn it, Helen, you’re tighter than I thought you’d be.” Pulling out, he rethought his strategy. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Leaving Helen with her legs spread, Wayne looked around her bedroom and adjacent bathroom before finding what he wanted. When he returned to the bed, he was holding a jar of Helen’s body lotion. After removing the jar’s cover, Wayne positioned his body between her legs. He put the jar down on the bed and used his fingers to scoop out some of the thick cream. “Hold still, Helen. This will help.” While saying this, he inserted his fingers into her vagina and rubbed until the lotion no longer was on his fingers.

Removing his fingers, he couldn’t help grinning at Helen’s startled expression. “Let’s try again.” Wayne felt the control over his body weakening, and he hurried to penetrate Helen. This time, he managed to get inside more easily, although he could feel her flesh stretching to accommodate his thick member. “Helen, I wish you knew how good you feel.” He groaned when she moved her hips, bringing him deeper inside her.

Chapter 158

February 27, 2009 – At the mansion in Walker’s apartment

A few weeks after the newlyweds returned home found Walker and Samantha enjoying a quiet evening alone. Genji was downstairs with her doting grandmother, while earlier Samantha gave the two older children permission to spend the night over at the orphanage.

Walker came down the hallway after getting Elizabeth’s diary and Mitchell’s ship log from his office safe. Sitting down on the sofa next to Samantha, he handed her the diary. “Here’s what you wanted. I think there’s a bookmark where you stopped reading.” He opened the ship’s log after putting his long legs up on the coffee table. Samantha shook her head, but knew it was useless to try changing any of his bachelor habits.

“Strange, this isn’t Mitchell’s handwriting.” mumbled Walker, opening the log to the entry of April 30, 1870. His next two words, “Oh, shit,” got Samantha’s attention. Before she could say anything, Walker said, “Sorry, Sam. I just read something Robbie wrote.”

“Robbie? Why him and not Mitchell Whiting?”

“Well, he wrote it years after the accident that killed Mitchell and Elizabeth. He wrote about what happened and then the birth of his children.”

Samantha put up her hand to stop him. “Okay, now you’ve confused me. Robbie has children? Who’s the mother? What accident?”

Walker quickly filled her in on the accident, the marriage of Robbie and Blythe, and finally the birth of their twins. “See if Blythe took over writing in Elizabeth’s diary.”

For the next hour, the two of them took turns reading the entries in the diary and log to each other. Robbie’s entries were few and far between, but Blythe made up for that. Walker and Samantha laughed at the antics of young Helen and Mitch and felt Blythe’s sorrow in her last entry.

“Tomorrow, Robbie and I are returning to London, leaving our darling Helen in the safe care of her husband. Rick Moreau isn’t quite the husband we’d have chosen for her, but she’s made her choice. She has promised to send a letter care of Artemus Tucker, our family’s solicitor, when the baby comes.

“I’m leaving the diary and log with our American lawyer, Mr. Herrmann, to give to Helen and Rick once the White Dolphin has left Boston. I’ve enclosed the last letter from my cousin, Lord Jason Edgeworth, in the hopes Helen stays in touch with that branch of the family as I have. I was delighted to read that Aunt Jane was healthy and still refusing to act her age.

This last message is for you alone, Helen. If you ever want to come home to London, you will always be welcome. Give the baby some kisses from us when it comes and always know your father and I love you very much.”

Chapter 159

July 28, 1887 –At the Boston home of Helen Moreau

“Wayne, what’re you doing?” Helen struggled to push him off. When she felt his fingers inside her, she had been too embarrassed to resist. Only after he inserted his penis for the second time did she react. Moving her hips to dislodge him hadn’t worked. As Wayne began to move inside her, at first slowly, an odd ache began in her belly. This grew stronger each time his penis rubbed against her sensitive inner flesh.

“I want to pleasure you, Helen.” Wayne managed to get this out just before he let out a loud groan. After Wayne forced himself into Helen once, twice and then a third time, he poured a hot stream of sperm into her. After catching his breath, he whispered, “Oh jeez, that felt so good. I’m sorry, sweetness, I came too quickly.”

Helen waited for him to say something else, but Wayne stayed silent. When he rolled off her, she tried not to show her disappointment. At least he managed to stay inside me. That’s more than Rick usually did, but there has to be more to sex than that.

Knowing he failed her, Wayne watched Helen crawl out of bed and head toward the bathroom. Too exhausted to do anything else, he lay there and admired the sway of her hips as she walked and the round cheeks of her ass. After Helen went into the bathroom and closed the door, Wayne knew he had to do better the next time.

In a few minutes, Helen came out of the bathroom. Instead of returning to the bed, she left the room. When she returned, she was carrying what appeared to Wayne to be a thick book. “You promised to read this, didn’t you?” She couldn’t keep the tears back when she saw him frowning. “Please, Wayne. I want what my grandmother had with her, with my grandfather.”

Realizing this was important to her and knowing he had to do something to make up for failing her, he nodded. “Okay, bring it here.” When she hurried back to the bed and propped herself up against the headboard, she waited until he moved up beside her. Wayne took the book from her and began silently reading. He skimmed quickly through the entries leading up to November 30, 1845. When he started reading that to himself, he couldn’t believe Helen wanted him to treat her that way. “Helen, have you read this before?”

“No, I just remember Mama telling me that her father, my grandfather, wrote about how he made Elizabeth happy all the time.” She smiled hopefully at Wayne. “I was thinking there might be something in his log you could show me.”

Wayne finished reading that entry, ideas swirling in his head about what he would do with Helen once he got his strength back. That returned faster than he thought it would. He felt himself growing hard thinking of what Mitchell wrote. “Helen, slide down on the bed.” When she hesitated, he said more firmly, “You want me or not?” She nodded. “Then, do what I told you to do. Slide down on the bed. That’s a good little puss. All the way down.” Seeing Helen where he wanted her, Wayne moved down and rolled her over onto her stomach.

When she tried to return to lying on her back, Wayne scolded her. “Don’t move. You wanted me to treat you like he wrote in the book, and that’s what I’m going to do.” He straddled her legs to hold her down. “I can’t take your clothes off like he did, since we’ve done that already.” He tried to remember what Mitchell wrote after stripping Elizabeth. With a smile, the words popped into his mind. “Did Rick ever sodomize you?”

“What’s that?” Helen tried to look back over her shoulder at him, but he was just out of view. She jumped when she felt his hands caressing her ass. “No, he never did, if that’s what you’re doing now.”

Wayne loved the young woman’s innocence. He knew he was going to enjoy teaching her. “Stop wiggling. This time I promise I’ll go slower, but you have to do exactly what I say.” After he moved his hands to her hips, forcing her to remain on the bed, Wayne leaned forward. In a hoarse voice, he promised, “Helen, I promise this time I’ll make you scream.”

Chapter 160

December 03, 1898 –At the Boston home of Helen Moreau

Twelve-year-old Cynthia sat quietly in her bedroom. She knew the familiar sounds coming from her mother’s bedroom would start soon. Since she was a baby, her grandfather came to the Moreau home regularly. After playing for an hour or so with the little girl, Wayne always ended his visit the same way.

* * *

A few months ago, she gave into her curiosity about what went on between her mother and grandfather in that room. Pressing her ear to the adjoining wall, she could hear their voices clearly since Helen’s bed was flush against the other side.

“After all these years, you still haven’t learned?” Wayne’s voice sounded mean to Cynthia. “Now, do it again.”

“Please, I’m trying.” Cynthia hardly recognized her mother’s voice. She knew Helen as a strong and independent person. This woman sounded meek and submissive.

Cynthia gasped in shock at the sound of a loud slap followed by Wayne’s voice. “You want another one? No? Then do it right.” A few seconds passed before she heard, “That’s it” followed by his laugh. “I think you need a little touchup as a reminder, so you won’t forget again.”

“No, please. I’ll do better. Wayne, I promise. Don’t do it!” Unsure of what was going on, Cynthia heard her mother cry out in pain. Even as she backed away from the wall, Cynthia could hear Helen continuing to scream.

* * *

Now, a month later, as she huddled on her own bed, Cynthia knew what was going to happen. She had watched Helen meekly following Wayne from the living room.

When Wayne reached the doorway, he turned to see Cynthia watching them. He motioned for her to come closer. “Give your grandpa a big kiss and then go to your room. I want to spend some time alone with your mother.”

Cynthia, an obedient child, ran to him and felt his whiskers tickling when he kissed her cheek. Once in her bedroom, she heard the door to her mother’s room slam shut. Cynthia closed her eyes, when the rumbling sound of his low voice started.

On the other side of the wall, Helen stood in the middle of her room. Her head remained bowed, while she waited for Wayne to cross the room and tell her what he expected from her that day. After eleven years, the screams he promised her their first time together came from both pain and pleasure. In the beginning, Wayne had eased Helen into accepting his orders slowly. He would give her a slap here or a bite there, increasing his brutality if she didn’t obey him fast enough.

Wayne was known among his friends as a mild-mannered gentleman, a respected businessman, and much loved by his many grandchildren. Until he met Helen, it never crossed his mind to hurt another person. Wayne quickly learned, though, that causing her pain increased his sexual potency. The 46-year-old widower felt like he had been given a second chance at life.

It had taken time, but eventually he turned the young mother of his latest grandchild into his submissive and willing slave. After inflicting pain to get his first hard-on, he would then begin the pleasure part with Helen on her knees giving him oral sex. After repeatedly taking her vaginally, Wayne always finished with his favorite, anal penetration.

Once he left to go home, Helen would stay on the bed, in pain and exhausted. She no longer cared what he did to her as long as he kept coming back.

Continued in next segment

Home of the White Dolphin - Segment 33  (GC) Chapters 161 thru 165 #2091674 by J. A. Buxton