The Baron had more wine brought to the room. This time he insisted that we toast the occasion with crossed arms. I thought it so ludicrous. He was such a blustering fool. So stiff at times, and then at other times so silly. Then he kissed me. He kissed my lips.
He kissed my neck. I quivered in his arms as he whispered passionately in my ear. I did not resist when he began to undress me. I was helpless. The door was locked and bolted. We were alone. I had promised Edward. I thought of the servants downstairs. How fierce the whispering must be. The Baron and his French lady. Albert's fingers were not at all clumsy. He knew how to undress a woman. A pink flush came to his face at each revelation. He seemed crazed with excitement as my clothes fell away. My chemise, my drawers, my stockings. He soon had me completely naked. He kissed me again, enfolded me in his arms, pressed me against his waistcoat. He fondled my body. His fingers toyed with my nipples. He squeezed my bottom and tickled my nest.
“Perfect. Completely perfect. Such exquisite little breasts. Kiss me again, darling. I want to hold you in my arms.”
Once more I was crushed against his chest. He rained kisses upon my face and neck. He seemed taken with my slenderness. He seemed amazed by the girlish look of my breasts. I was certainly different than Helga. He chuckled as he spoke of his wife. He said Helga had such large breasts. An abundance of breast and buttock. He seemed amused as he contemplated the difference. He said my nipples were a marvel. Like two arrows. He covered a breast with each hand and squeezed my nipples between his fingers. Then he made me turn so that he might embrace me from behind. He held one of my breasts with one hand and fondled my bottom with the other hand. Once again he compared me to the Baroness. This time it was my bottom that occupied his attention. He squeezed my flesh. He kissed my neck as he tickled my sex from the rear. I was overcome. I trembled under his caresses. He urged me to the bed, gently pushing me forward, his hand continually stroking my body, my breasts, my bottom, the furrow between my buttocks. I was completely helpless. I was completely in his power. He coaxed me to bend. He made me kneel on the bed to show my bottom. He said I was too lovely not to be looked at. Once again he mentioned Aphrodite.
“Oh yes. Oh yes, indeed. How fine you are. Like an angel. Such white skin. And the breasts so small. Not like the Baroness, eh? You don't mind me talking of Helga? Say you don't mind.”
“I don't mind.”
“Your breasts are like apples. We need to squeeze the apples a bit, don't we? I'm not hurting you, am I? And the bottom. Exquisite. And a bit of touching here. Albert has a good touch, eh?”
“Albert, please…”
“You do like me?”
“Yes.”
“You're perfect. Perfect bottom. Full and yet not too full. One wants to have flesh in the bottom, no? Do you mind? Just a bit of stroking. Be patient with me, darling.”
“I don't mind.”
“I was charmed by you the first moment we met. I wanted to hold you like this. I wanted to look at you. Then I discovered you were French and that was the end of me. I adore French women. How unpatriotic of me. I ought to adore German women but I don't. It's the French I adore. What do you think of that? Do you find that amusing? Tell me the truth, darling. What do you think of me? How tiny you are here. The French call it the little rose, don't they? So tiny. But we'll manage it, won't we? God in Heaven, what a bottom. I must control myself. Albert, you must control yourself. Give me a moment, darling. Just a moment to undress. Stay just as you are, I beg you. The pose is perfect. What a joy it is to look at you.”
I remained as I was. I had no opportunity to look at him. I heard him muttering behind me as he undressed. Then he was at me again. His hands stroked my bottom. He kissed me there, first each globe and then between. I trembled as he licked me. He tongued the little rose. His fingers tickled the lips of my sex. His tongue licked and probed as I knelt before him on the bed. I shivered at the feel of it. I could feel the wet sucking of his mouth. He seemed obsessed with my bottom. He continually muttered, stroking my buttocks and thighs, his face pushing at me, sounds of excitement emanating from his throat. I was revolted. His mouth was ravenous. I was helpless beneath: the rain of sucking kisses. And the tickling of my sex. He made love to both places at once. His fingers played in one place and his tongue in the other. I heard sounds through the open window. A girl laughing in the distance. I wondered who it was that made her laugh. Were they gazing at the Staufenberg?
Finally the Baron removed his mouth. I could feel the wetness between my buttocks. Then I felt his tool pushing at my bottom-hole. I cried out. He soothed me. He pushed further. I prayed for deliverance. I begged him to stop. He continued pushing at me, coaxing me, stroking my bottom with his hands as he pushed forward. “My little darling… how lovely you are… from the first moment… so girlish… God in Heaven… and now the rose is breached…”
I felt his belly pushing against my bottom. He gripped my hips and began thrusting in my back passage. It was too much. He was too large. I was certain I would not survive it. Once again I begged him to stop, but it was useless. His thrusting continued. He made noises in his throat. His hands gripped my flesh. “So fine… exquisite, darling… you do like me, don't you?… now you're completely open to me… a marvel…”
I cried out again. I was certain the people at the inn could hear me. Were they snickering in the garden? I imagined their amusement as they sipped their wine and gazed up at the open window. How stupid of the Baron to leave the window open, the shutters pushed out. I was furious. I hated him. I hated Edward. It was Edward who had forced me to be at the mercy of the Baron.
“Albert, I beg you…”
“What, darling?”
“You must stop.”
“But that's impossible now.”
He persisted. He soothed me with words and caresses. He said surely I must feel the pleasure now. I wanted to die. I felt nothing but a great heat in my bowels. Then he was at the crisis, his thrusting more forceful. In a moment he spent, his hands gripping my bottom fiercely as he emptied himself.
“Darling Claire, what a wonder you are!”
I felt totally debased. I heard someone laughing again. I was certain they were laughing at me. Albert pulled away from me and I fell away on the bed. I heard him dressing. He said he would wait for me in the car. He said he would have a girl come to the room to assist me. I covered my face as I heard the door close.
Albert and I sat apart all during the return drive to the hotel in Baden-Baden. How strange it was. We were once again so formal with each other. The Prussian gentleman and the French wife of an Englishman. He made only passing comments about the countryside. I had the impression he was extremely careful not to touch me.
When we arrived at the hotel, Edward was waiting for us on the steps. He greeted us, he smiled at me, he took my arm. I learned Helga was not feeling well. Edward mumbled something about a headache, her apologies. Edward and Albert chatted about the news from the capitals. The Baron said he ought to have a look at Helga and he excused himself. He kissed my hand before he left. I avoided his eyes. I did not want to remember anything. When Edward asked if I'd like tea on the terrace, I quickly agreed.
Edward said nothing at all about my time with the Baron. He asked no more than a casual question about the war museum. We dined alone that evening. The next morning I learned that Albert and Helga had left Baden-Baden to return to Hanover. Edward and I continued taking the waters for another week and then we returned to London.