QOH Part 2

The Queen Meets her Match - Part 2

Barnabus

Written: 10/12/06 - 3/2/07

Revised: xx/xx/xx

(Queen of Swords. M/F, rape, reluctance, consensual sex)

SUBJECT: The Queen of Swords is dominated again . . . and it’s not pleasant this time.

Hard R.

WARNING: This is an adult story, containing sensitive material of a sexual nature. If you find such material offensive or are underage, do not read further, but please bypass this story for one more suitable for you.

This story is a sequel to The Queen Meets her Match, which should be posted on this site. In the earlier story, Tessa had become Count Jorge Maldonado’s Lover. At the end of the prior story, Jorge returned to Spain leaving her pregnant and alone. One or two months have passed, but certainly no more than three months between the stories. Now, Tessa was pregnant and unmarried in Alta California, part of Spanish Mexico, circa 1817.

The Queen of Swords, a.k.a. Senorita Maria Teresa Alvarado, Marta, her servant, Captain Grisham, are copyrighted, trademarked, and owned by Fireworks Productions. No infringement of copyright is intended or revenue expected from their use in this story. This is nothing but a parody of this fine TV show. I am specifically borrowing Teresa for my own pleasure. José and Jorge are my creations and belong to me.

Acknowledgments given to Flexman who encouraged a sequel the first Queen story I felt the story was ended and came up with the suggestion about “those letters”, a loose end that had not been resolved.

Also, thanks to Bondsnake, Doc Benway Interzone Inc, NiaIsDaBomb whose unrelated work helped me get past a write block.

This is a work of fan-fiction. This story is written for enjoyment and entertainment purposes only, and no commercial profit is expected to be made from it. It may be copied for personal use or for posting on other sites, provided they are free sites . . . it may NOT be posted on any site that requires a "membership fee" of any kind. This includes ‘adult verification sites’. This story may NOT be posted to any site requiring an AVS where money is involved, or an AVS, which sells its mailing list or member’s information to outsiders. (Hey, let’s be fair! If I’m not going to make money from my work, why should someone else?)

(If you do copy this story to another web page, please give me the courtesy of an e-mail, so I can see where my work is going. Who knows? Maybe you’ll introduce me to a new favorite website.

Like most stories of this ilk, at the end of the story (unless there is a sequel) the characters are magically returned to their original condition, undamaged, unharmed, and unchanged in any way with no memory of the events that have taken place. . . It is as if the story had never happened, because, after all, it never really did.

José does not use birth control, even though he recognizes the mechanics of impregnation and how it occurs. In 'real life’ every reasonable adult should know that he or she should behave responsibly when participating in sexual activities and he or she wishes to avoid unwanted conception and the spread of disease.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A mainstay for any writer is feedback from the readership.

I would greatly appreciate any comments or reviews of this story,

both positive and negative.

Feedback is welcome and accepted at barnabus329@hotmail.com.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Chapter 1: A new life requires changes.

Tessa was fatigued. Obviously, the simple state of being pregnant expended a considerable amount of energy by itself. She no longer ventured from her veranda as the Queen of Swords.

After her lover Jorge had left her, she had returned to her activities as the Queen with a vengeance, but quickly recognized she was distracted by the fact that she was carrying a baby in her belly. And she did not have the energy she had had only a few months earlier.

During her last sortie as the Queen, she had been involved in a sword fight, and although she easily defeated and humiliated her opponent, she realized that she was not only placing herself in danger but also her unborn child! The maternal instincts surfaced within her and she realized that she was endangering her child her child as well as herself. And thus that was her final mission as the Queen of Swords. The Queen had ceased cease her activities.

Now she was reconsidering her plan of action to create an explanation for the baby. Already there was a small pouch forming in her stomach and soon she would begin to swell and would no longer be able to conceal her condition. So Tessa was planning a trip to visit an aunt in the provinces of Spain. This would take her away from St. Helen’s. Once in Spain, Tessa could remain ‘in seclusion’ with ‘her aunt’ until after the baby was born. While in Spain, so her story would go, she would meet a provincial nobleman of her own rank, and after a whirlwind courtship, she would fall in love and get married. Of course, so the story would go, Tessa would conceive on her wedding night. And, unfortunately, her husband would be killed by highwaymen shortly after the child was born. Thus, after a suitable time of mourning, Tessa would return to her home in St. Helena, a grieving widow, broken hearted at the loss of her husband, but with their child. Needless to say, the grieving widow would carry with her proper forged papers to corroborate her story.

Marta, Tessa’s faithful gypsy servant, had agreed that it was a plausible story, and was interviewing the captain of every ship that docked in port, seeing passage to Spain.

Tessa sighed. Her baby wasn’t even kicking yet, and already it was causing major changes in her life!

Chapter 2: Tessa meets the weasel.

One day, a man named José requested an audience with her. He was a low-level scribe in the Ambassador’s office, and Tessa was confused by his request. If the Ambassador wished to talk to her, he would simply arrange an interview for himself, not send some underling.

José apparently held an insignificant secretarial position in the Ambassador’s office and when Tessa made inquiries, she found that it was whispered in town that José was a recluse and whenever he had was able, he would exercise what power he possessed by being unnecessarily cruel and vicious toward those who could not defend themselves. It seemed his favorite target was a young, unmarried girl with limited protection from their families. Tessa took an immediate dislike to the man even before she met him. But she agreed to the interview.

When he arrived for his appointment, Tessa saw a small, pockmarked man with a weasel face, a whiney voice, and his body had an unpleasant, unwashed odor that repulsed her.

The small clerk opened the interview by saying, “You may want to read this. I found it most interesting.” He handed an envelope to Tessa. Her heart stopped as she recognized Jorge’s handwriting on the envelope. It was addressed to Captain Grisham. Apparently it had not been delivered but the seal had been broken, indicating a serious breach of protocol.

Since the envelope had not been addressed to her, she did not examine its contents. “Why do you think I would be interested in this?” Tessa asked.

“José smiled. Perhaps you’re not interested. Here, I’ll take it to Captain Grisham.” He reached for the letter, but Tessa hesitated and did not immediately return it to the clerk.

The letter was from Jorge, her lover and the father of the baby that was growing inside her belly, so she was burning with curiosity. Barely able to contain herself, Tessa asked, “There must be a reason you feel that I might have an interest in this letter. I see the seal is broken. Have you read it?”

“Of course. And now, I suggest _*you*_ read it.

Hesitantly, Tessa took the single sheet from the envelope. It was Jorge’s letter to Grisham. As she expected, it was Jorge’s letter revealing her secret identity as the Queen of Swords. It was the letter he had used to initially blackmail her forcing her to permit him into her bed.

“You’ve read this letter?” she asked again.

The man nodded. “I also have two more letters that were written by Sr. Maldonado. The other two are still in my possession.”

“And are these three letters the only letters Sr. Maldonado wrote?”

“No. Apparently he wrote three sets of letter and entrusted them to three different secretaries in the Ambassador’s office with the instructions that if Sr. Maldonado were to be killed or were to disappear, the letters were to be forwarded, unopened, to the officials to whom they were addressed.”

“And do the other two officials still have their letters?” Tessa asked, trying to sound casual.

José smiled. “No. Sr. Maldonado came into the office shortly before he left for Spain and demanded their return. The other two clerks returned the letters. But I had hidden the letters entrusted to me elsewhere since they seemed to be rather important. Sr. Maldonado was angry that he could not destroy all of the letters, but he burned the letters he had and instructed me to bring the letters to him onboard his ship before he left.

“I made every effort, but the wagon I was driving lost a wheel and I was delayed returning to the docks with my copies of the letters. When I arrived, Sr. Maldonado’s ship had already sailed.”

José dropped his eyes in embarrassment. “I’m afraid I committed the indiscretion of opening that letter and reading it?”

If he believed what he had read, then he would know Tessa’s secret, and the identity of the Queen of Swords.

“And,” Tessa prompted.

“It only confirmed what I already knew and it explained a few things that I did not already know.”

“You already knew . . .?” Tessa queried. What could he know other than what he had read?

“Let me give you an explanation. First of all, his request that I, a lowly scribe in the Ambassador’s office, should hold an item of importance for him was quite unusual. I wondered why he would choose me and two of my companions to be custodians of his correspondence, especially with the unusual instructions accompanying them. So I decided to do a little spying of my own. I discreetly followed him and imagine my surprise when the first evening I followed him, he went briefly to his own hacienda, but left later in the night and came here, where he remained until quite late. I might add that most of the time he was here, the hacienda was dark with only one or two rooms having lighted candles.”

“You spied on my hacienda?” Tessa asked incredulously, her anger rising at the affront.

“I’m afraid my story becomes more scandalous, Senorita Alvarado,” José continued. The next night, I was not overly surprised when once again he returned to your hacienda. As the night progressed, only one room had a candle burning. Since your hacienda is not fortified or guarded, it was easy to creep up to the window and listen.”

“Senor!” Tessa exclaimed in amazement, scandalized by the audacity of this insignificant governmental official. After all, one word from her to the Ambassador and José would be thrown out of office, probably exiled and possibly imprisoned.

“I was not surprised that two noble people were carrying on an indiscreet

relationship. That happens all the time,” José continued. “What surprised me was your reluctance to participate in the indelicate demands he made upon you. And what surprised me even more was that although you obviously desired to reject his demands, nonetheless, without objection, you accepted him into your bed and received his advances: not just once, but several times that night. And having yielded to his coercive demands, the next night, you again received him in your bedroom, where, again, you granted him access to your feminine charms!”

“Senor, what takes place between consenting adults behind closed doors is none of your business!” Tessa fumed, infuriated that the privacy of her own bedroom had been compromised by unwelcome, lecherous eyes. “Now please leave or I’ll call my servants and have you thrown out!”

“Of course, I’m sorry to have bothered you,” José replied, his voice as smooth as axle grease. Making no effort to rise, he reached out his hand. “The letter por favor.”

Shocked, Tessa’s eyes dropped to Jorge’s letter, which was still in her hand.

“It bothered me, the way he treated you,” José continued, as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “and, although you were obviously reluctant, that you made no effort to rebuff him. Your reputation has always been spotless, and there has never been the slightest hint of your participation in anything . . . shall we say . . . . indelicate.

“Then, I finally decided he must know some secret about you that was important enough that you would yield your body to keep that secret.

“I spent some time pondering what secret might be so important.”

José paused for a moment before continuing. “Senorita Alvarado, there are not that many secrets in St. Helena that are worth very much. Certainly none that would be worth a woman’s honor to protect! Well, there may be _*one*_ secret . . . . . . .” José let the words hang, not finishing his sentence. After a long pause, José pointed to the letter that Tessa still held in her hand. “That letter confirmed my suspicions.”

José paused before continuing his narration. “Then, the next night, as I watched through your window, Sr. Maldonado demanded that you remove your night clothes. He even lit two or three extra candles so he could see better . . .”

Tessa cringed. She remembered that night well! She had been mortified to remove her clothes before Jorge’s hungry eyes, but the realization that there were other eyes watching, unknown to her, filled her with even greater horror and humiliation.

José paused for a moment, scanning Tessa with lustful eyes. “Your naked body is truly a magnificent sight to behold!”

An embarrassed flush spread from Tessa’s hairline to her toes. “No more, Senor, I beg you! You’ve said quite enough!” Tessa trembled with rage and humiliation at the story she had just heard. “I should have you killed!"

“Ah, yes,” José answered. “That might solve your immediate problem. Then you could destroy the letter in your hand and all of your problems would be resolved.” José sat back in his chair and gave a smile that reminded Tessa of the weasel that he was. “But there are still two more letters . . . I wonder where they are? What would happen to them if you killed me? Hmmmm?”

“What do you want?” Tessa asked ungraciously.

“Three things.” José replied, pleased that the conversation had followed the path that he desired. “One, the return of the letter in your hand.”

He still had two letters, so this letter gained her little advantage. Tessa returned the letter to him.

“Two, my employment as a government clerk is very low paying. It would be nice to have it supplemented a little.” He named a price, and Tessa agreed.

“Your third demand?” she asked, once again attempting to regain her position as imperious head of the household.

“My third requirement is that you permit me to take Senor Maldonado’s place in your bed.”

Tessa stared at him confused. At first she didn’t understand what he was asking. Then suddenly, she was filled with start horror as she recognized the meaning behind his words.

“Senor! Are you suggesting that I am the sort of woman who would offer her virginity, her chastity and honor simply to keep a secret . . .?

“Senorita Alvarez,” José answered shortly. “Your virginity is gone. As for offering your chastity and honor to keep a secret, that is an already established fact! At the moment, we are simply bickering whether you are willing to _*fuck me*_ in order to keep your secret!”

Tessa was shocked at the crudeness of his statement. But as quickly as she got past the vocabulary José had used, she recognized the accuracy of his statement. She _*had*_ given her body to Jorge as the price of Jorge’s silence. Now, she had to face the question, would she also sell herself to José in order to continue to protect her secret.

But she was in love with Jorge! Wasn’t it natural for people in love to . . . make love . . .? She sadly came to terms that she had yielded her body to Jorge long before she had fallen in love with him. If she yielded to this . . . weasel . . . would the same thing happen?

God forbid! Jorge was a nobleman of the highest rank. José, the man sitting across from her, was a clerk, a peasant who had somehow learned to read and write and gotten a job working for the nobility and the government. Still, perhaps she could outwit him.

“Give me the letters and I will consider your request,” she demanded imperiously.

“I will keep the letters,” José replied with equally arrogance.

“Then I will have to think about it,” Tessa stated.

“There is nothing for you to contemplate,” José stated. “I am asking for nothing that you have not already given away. Either I remain and spend the night with you or the letters will be delivered to their addressees first thing in the morning.”

“You cannot spend the night!” Tessa gasped aghast at the suggestion. “If you were seen leaving my hacienda in the morning, there would be a scandal! You could not remain past midnight at the very latest!”

“Very well, it is agreed then,” José conceded. “I will return an hour after sunset, after all of your servants are asleep. You will open the door for me yourself, and I will leave before midnight.”

Dumbfounded, Tessa wasn’t exactly sure how she had agreed to his demands. But the assignation was set, and she was, once more, committed to trade her body for a man’s silence. How did that happen? Especially with that weasel-faced peasant clerk?

José excused himself and left, leaving a confused Tessa As she tried to figure exactly what had happened.

Chapter 3: A painful rendezvous

Like most people of the early 1800's, Tessa’s household, indeed, the entire community lived according to the rising and setting of the sun. People woke and rose with the sun. And when the sun set, Tessa’s entire household retired and soon everyone was asleep. Everyone but Tessa.

She had considered not telling Marta, her faithful gypsy servant and companion, about José’s interview and his demands because Tessa was afraid that Marta would simply slit the man’s throat and throw his body down an abandoned well or mine shaft. But until Tessa had those letters back, she knew that the life of everyone associated with her was in danger, including her own. She had never been afraid of losing her own life, but she felt jealously protective of the baby that was growing in her stomach: Jorge’s baby . . . Jorge’s bastard.

As long as José had the letters that would expose her as the Queen of Swords, no action could be taken against him. However, once those letters had been recovered and destroyed . . . .

In the end, however, Tessa revealed everything to Marta, what José had said and what he had demanded. Although it was obvious that Marta was seething at the demands this rodent made on her mistress, she remained surprising calm for a Spanish gypsy. Using logic, she attempted to talk Tessa out of meeting with him. Then the gypsy suggested that she, Marta, should meet him. But ultimately, Tessa decreed that it was her problem and she, Tessa alone, who must deal with it.

Marta stilled Tessa’s unspoken worries by volunteering that further sexual activity would not injure Tessa’s unborn baby, just so long as the man did not beat Tessa or kick her, especially in the stomach.

When the sun set, Marta helped Tessa dress in her sleeping shift, a peignoir, and finally a day robe that was designed to be easily slipped into, but had the appearance of normal daytime attire: thus a lady could slip from her bed, put on this robe and appear suitably dressed to meet a guest. Before leaving her mistress, Marta pressed a heavy purse into Tessa’s hand. Noticing Tessa’s perplexed look, Marta explained, “It is the money that he demanded. It’s all there, the entire amount in gold.”

Nervously, Tessa sat by the light of a candle in her living room as she awaited her visitor, rehearsing in her mind the arguments she might use to dissuade this evil man from his reprehensible plans.

An hour passed after the sun had set and the rest of the household had retired. Tessa prayed that all of her servants (except Marta, of course) would be asleep. There was a light tap at the door.

Chapter 4: José takes what he has claimed.

Tessa herself opened the door and permitted the small man to enter. As he stepped inside her hacienda, José quickly glanced at her, observing that she appeared to be fully clothed, and a fleeting look of annoyance flashed across his face.

He refused Tessa’s invitation to be seated in the sitting room for a glass of wine and to talk. Rather, he unceremoniously demanded the money he had requested. Tessa gave him the purse of gold and after weighing it in his hand he slipped it into a pouch attached to his belt.

And without further delay, he demanded that she lead him to her bedroom. Tessa experienced a sinking feeling as the opportunity to present all of her arguments as to why they should not continue in this tryst evaporated.

She tried again. “Senor, I think it’s appropriate to talk a bit, to discuss things, before . . .”

“Your _*bedroom*_ if you please, senorita.”

Taken aback by his rude insistence, Tessa obediently led the way. Once in her chamber, she went immediately to the sideboard and started to pour wine. Perhaps if she could get him drunk . . . .

“No wine,” he dismissed as he moved to Tessa’s bed and examined it, feeling the silken coverlet, prodding the padded mattress. “I did not come here to drink.”

Tessa tried again. “Senor, it is unreasonable to expect . . .”

José moved up to Tessa and slid his fingers over her cheek, an expression of intimacy that was totally out of place between them considering the difference of their rank and station. Tessa tried, but couldn’t repress the shutter of repulsion at his touch.

José spoke. “In the world of commerce, nothing is unreasonable. We have reached a bargain, you and I. I have agreed to keep your secret. Now it is time for you to live up to your end of the bargain.”

“Senor, I am a lady of rank and station! You cannot . . . .”

José interrupted. “Take off your clothes.” He moved to the bed, slipping his coat from his shoulders and sat, pulling off a boot.

“Senor!” Tessa was dismayed once again at his bluntness.

Dropping the boot to the floor, José demanded, “Come over here. Stand in front of me and remove your clothing.”

At a loss for words, Tessa simply stared at him.

“Senorita, both of us knows why we are here. I am an impatient man. Please do not delay any longer.”

Tessa opened her mouth to object again, but José forcefully pointed to the floor about a foot before him.

Hesitantly, Tessa moved to the point he indicated as José removed his other boot.

When she hesitated, José nodded and gestured for her to continue.

@@f

With extreme reluctance, Tessa unfastened the day robe and fearfully slipped it from her shoulders. José’s activities slowed as he observed her peignoir. It was a pleasant surprise that she was dressed in her nighttime lingerie beneath the robe. There was another hesitation, and José gave another gesture for her to continue.

Ever since the night when José had observed Jorge demand that Tessa strip before him, José had burned with desire. Never before that night had he been bold enough to demand that a woman strip in his presence. And since then, he had found that even the whores had too much dignity to remove their clothes and stand before him, displaying whatever feminine attractions they had.

Now, José possessed the power to command that a woman, a high born aristocratic woman, remove her clothing for him. It was an exhilarating experience.

He was excited beyond words. It was a power trip such as he had never imagined: compelling a woman take off her clothes, _*all*_ of her clothes, in his presence. The very thought of a woman undressing in the presence of _*any*_ man was unheard of in the early 1800s. Even a husband could not demand it of his wife. It was erotica taken to extremes: he could dream of it for his entire life and never expect to experience it.

But she was _*undressing! At his command! *_

Dropping her gaze, Tessa deferentially loosened the ties holding the peignoir closed. Pitifully, she raised her eyes to his, hoping he would not continue this disgraceful course of action.

José gazed, spellbound at the beauty standing before him. He gave a quick nod, and Tessa grudgingly slipped the peignoir from her shoulders.

Absently, José loosened his cravat as he continued staring at the stately noblewoman dressed only in a silk sleeping shift. He ran his tongue over his dry lips and croaked out, “Continue.”

Feeling like her will was breaking, Tessa pleaded, “Senor, why are you humiliating me like this?”

José’s face softened and he actually smiled. “I am the son of a peasant,” he said, almost in a whisper. “By begging the Arcade, I was able to obtain a junior post in his office where I learned to read and write. Eventually I became a scribe, a man of some importance. But to the noblewomen of the community, I was still the son of a peasant. To the peasant women, I had moved above their station. They would be willing to marry me in hopes of improving their place in life, but lacking marriage, they refused me the same sexual favors the would give another peasant of their own rank.”

With relish, José crudely scanned her body, still hidden beneath her shift, but outlined enough in the candle light to cause him almost brutal anticipation of the still hidden treasures concealed before him.

“Only the coarsest, most crude and mercenary of putas were available to me, and then at an exorbitant price.”

He reached out, fingering the hem of her shift, lifting it slowly, carefully watching as her ankle came into view.

“Never before have I had the opportunity to enjoy the sins of the flesh with a noblewoman of your stature and beauty. And knowing that you have already shared your body to protect your secret assures me that I have an opportunity that is much too good to pass up.”

José’s hand had raised the hem of her sleeping shift to above her knee, and his second hand moved to the hem. His eyes followed the hem with rapt attention as he raised the garment upward, and her fur-covered mound came into view. Shuddering with apprehension, Tessa turned her face away and crossed her arms defensively. He grinned lecherously, gathering the material and lifting it upwards, his eyes devouring what they saw.

Frozen, unable to move, Tessa begged, “Senor, spare me!”

“Lift your arms above your head, senorita,” he ordered as the barest outline of the lower edges of her breasts came into view.

Blushing from unparalleled embarrassment, Tessa closed her eyes and slowly lifted her arms as the monster stood and drew the shift upward and off, revealing her entire body to the ravenous monster who was staring at her.

It was something Tessa could never have done, if she not done it for her lover. The first time, it had been because he demanded it of her. But later, Tessa would remove her clothes and present her naked body before him simply because it pleased him.

Breathless, José stared at Tessa’s exposed breasts. They were being displayed _*for him!*_ His blood boiled at the sight of her bosom. Her pale, firm mounds were magnificent! Tessa’s breasts were everything he had expected and more. They were perfectly shaped; her nipples and surrounding areolas were dark and lovely in the candlelight. Her hips were enticingly wide and her waist, narrow, and her stomach had only the slightest bulge in front. He burned with lust at the sight at the dark tuft of pubic hair hiding the treasure that he would soon possess.

"Whooooo!" The exclamation escaped from his lips as Tessa lowered her hands, defensively covering herself. José took her wrists and lowered them to her sides, the shift falling to the floor with a faint swish. “Senorita,” he gasped out, “you are truly a magnificent woman!”

Standing less than a foot from her, he reached for her breasts.

Defensively, she took a step backward; then catching herself, she shuddered and forced herself to return to the place where he had indicated for her to stand, her hands grasping her thighs. He cupped and massaged her breasts, testing their firmness, their softness, weighing them. The touch of her body exceeded his expectations. José was euphoric.

José enclosed her in an embrace, pulling her into a violent and unwelcome kiss, but keeping one hand free to roughly molest her breast.

Tessa whimpered as bile crept into her throat. He forced his kiss on her and she flinched as he began mashing her breast, kneading it like he was kneading bread dough. It was anything but romantic. She grunted and winced as he pinched her nipple. Hard!

Grabbing her by the hair, he roughly turned and threw her sideways onto the bed and frantically began clawing at his pants. Without preamble or foreplay of any kind, he was between her knees. He took her roughly. There were no delicate kisses, no whispered endearments in her ear. He simply grabbed her shoulders, effectively pinning her to the mattress, and brutally thrust into her. It was only by a supreme act of will that Tessa suppressed a shriek at his brutal entry into her unlubricated sex, gasping and grunting so as not to awaken her household. She lay on her back, her dim eyes staring at the ceiling as he pounded wildly into her, heedless of her lack of response or her grunts of pain with each thrust. She cringed as the brute continued to brutalize her breasts.

It was rough. It was ferocious. He was a savage as he pounded deeper and ever deeper into her snug womanhood, although she realized that she was no longer as tight as she had been before she began her relationship with Jorge some months earlier.

Tessa was aware of a movement from the side of her eye and a quick glance showed her it was Marta, Tessa’s gypsy servant and confidant, who had quietly entered the room to come to her mistress’s aid. The candlelight was reflected from the long, narrow blade in the gypsy’s hand. Between grunts, Tessa shook her head and reluctantly the gypsy faded back into the shadows, disappearing from the room.

José’s brutal thrusts quickly increased into a frenzy, and Tessa felt him spasming, jetting his unwelcome seed into her vagina and womb as he grunted and resolutely concentrated on completing the task he had come to do. The entire brutal coupling could not have lasted more than a couple of minutes.

Suddenly embarrassed, José immediately withdrew, pulling up his pants. Not yet lubricated, his sudden, wrenching exit was more painful for Tessa than his forcible entrance had been.

“I must leave . . . I have . . . an appointment . . .” he stuttered, fastening his pants and grabbing the remainder of his clothes, making sure to include the purse of gold. “I . . . I . . . I will return . . . . tomorrow . . . at the same time . . .”

And he was gone.

Tessa lay her back, ravished, her naked legs splayed obscenely over the edge of the bed, unable to move. And before her mind could register, Marta was by her mistress’s side, wrapping her in a warm blanket. Tessa burst into tears and her servant held her tightly just as Marta had held her when Tessa had been a small child and skinned her knee. Eventually, Tessa’s hysterical crying passed and Marta lifted her and led her to a room where a bath had been drawn. And Marta had even heated it, so that Tessa could sink into the comforting warm water. The warm water soothed Tessa’s aches and encouraged her to relax as her faithful Gypsy servant and friend bathed and calmed her, helping her past the trauma she had just experienced. A glass of brandy appeared and Tessa welcomed the warmth and solace the burning liquid offered.

Tessa’s greatest fear was that she might lose her baby because of the brutal rape she had just experienced. But Marta, after asking about Tessa’s symptoms, ultimately reassured Tessa that she was strong enough to withstand being violated without losing the baby. The constant reassurances of the wise gypsy woman gradually eased Tessa’s concerns.

As fatigue overtook her, Tessa begged Marta for permission to sleep in Marta’s bed with her like she had when she was a child, and Marta gently consented.

Chapter 5: The next day. The next night.

The next day, Marta was gone for much of the day, and was nowhere to be found. She hadn’t explained the reason for her absence to her mistress, but exercised the annoying independence that she had always exhibited.

Meanwhile, as Tessa dully attending to her daily duties, she dreaded the return of the weasel that night. She prayed she wouldn’t have to go through the same treatment a second time. Her breasts were bruised and sore from being manhandled and her vagina felt like raw meat from its unlubricated and violent use and abuse. Marta had prepared a mixture of olive oil and herbs which soothed Tessa’s membranes and would, according to Marta, provide some initial lubrication if he demanded . . . _*her favor*_ . . . again.

That night, an hour after sunset, there was a light tap on the door.

Again, Tessa opened the door and the small man entered. He gave her a quick glance finding that again she appeared to be fully clothed. Without comment, he took her hand and stepped past her moving directly to her bedroom.

Again, he sat on the bed and immediately began to disrobe. Tessa stood hesitantly by the door.

“What are you waiting for? Undress.” And he returned to the task of removing his clothes.

“Surely . . . .” Tessa began.

José lifted his eyebrows indicating he expected to be obeyed. “Undress!” he commanded.

As soon as he was satisfied that she was complying, he returned to the task of removing his own clothes. He was quickly naked, while Tessa took longer, her reluctance holding her back. However, José waited patiently for her, and even enjoyed her hesitancy and obvious humiliation until she finally presented herself, naked, before him.

He stood and gestured. “Lie down on the bed, por favor!”

Tessa moved toward the bed and José stood and stepped aside.

“Senor, you have certain letters that I . . . .” she tried valiantly once more.

“Senorita,” José interrupted, “I have been without a woman for some time. I will not be in the mood to negotiate until my basic needs are satisfied. Now, on the bed, if you please!” he insisted.

Stopping short of the bed, she rose to her full imperial height. “I do not want to do this!” Tessa declared with as much authority as she could muster.

“It doesn’t matter whether you want to or not,” José replied, superciliously. “Do you want me to deliver the letters?”

“No,” Tessa whispered, eyes downcast.

“Then . . . .” José gestured toward the bed.

Tessa moved to the bed, sitting on the far side with her back to him. He moved behind her and began kissing her neck. With surprising gentleness, put his hand on her shoulder and she permitted him, reluctantly, to draw her onto her back on the bed. Bile crept into her throat as his mouth pressed against hers.

José’s hand took possession of one Tessa’s firm, perfectly shaped breasts, as he continued kissing her. His tongue felt coarse and Tessa was repulsed as he explored the inside of her mouth. Subtlety was not his strong point and his touch became more possessive, more harsh, more . . . disgusting. José’s smooth hand toyed with her nipple and slid back and forth between the soft, nubile flesh of Tessa’s breasts.

His mouth quickly dropped to her mounds and he began to lick Tessa’s nearest nipple. As that nipple grew harder, he transferred his attention to the other breast, licking it, pressing his tongue into it. Soon, both nipples had become hard little rocks. He sucked on them hard as his fondling became rougher.

“Please, senor, my breasts are bruised and sore from last night. Be gentle with me and perhaps I will be able to be more comfortable, and possibly I can do more to please you,” Tessa begged.

José looked up and permitted her nipple to slip from his mouth. He gave a smile that looked more like a sneer. “Senorita, your comfort is of little concern to me!” he said and he bit hard on her breast and began sucking again. Tessa suppressed a cry of pain as his vicious teeth came close to breaking the skin surrounding her nipple and she could only imagine what the pain would be like if he had actually bitten the nipple.

He alternated his attention between her breasts, and Tessa was aware that his manhood was now standing straight up in preparation for a repeat attack on her virtue. She didn’t like his treatment of her, especially since he was such an inconsiderate low-life individual, but she was no longer nervous and frightened by the prospect. Instead she was filled with repulsion and disgust. It wasn’t right, what he did. She didn’t deserve to be treated this way and he certainly didn’t deserve to get away with it.

"Roll over," José commanded. Tessa did so and he lifted her hips. With her chest, face and knees against the soft bed, her rounded ass was upraised before him. He wedged his knees between her calves, separating her legs and she presented in an open invitation for him to exploit her womanhood again.

He knelt behind her. It only took a moment for him to position himself and find her opening; and with little preamble, he forced his way into her. This time, he was not so impetuous and brutal. Marta’s mixture of oil and herbs provided initial lubrication, making his penetration less traumatic for Tessa. Still, Tessa moaned at the unwelcome intrusion. She whimpered as her naked body began rocking back and forth upon the wide bed. The rodent humped her furiously, his cold hands alternating between mauling the noblewoman’s saliva covered breasts and kneading her sweat-slick alabaster buttocks.

Her delightfully curved backside was presented before him, and in the candlelight, José watched his manhood, now gleaming with her fluids, disappear and reappear in and out of her forbidden recesses. José knew that he held the secret that would continuously demand her submission.

He reveled in the power he held over this haughty noblewoman. The previous night, when he had returned home, he had masturbated several times, and as a result, his staying power was considerably greater tonight, extending the pleasure of his domination of her and the ongoing sexual stimulation she was providing him. He noted that she was rocking back, meeting his thrusts. He doubted it was because she was enjoying their activity. Rather, he suspected, she was attempting to stimulate him hoping to speed the process. He really didn’t care! The fact was he was fucking one of the most beautiful women in California and she was fucking him back!

Tessa’s movements gradually grew weaker and she began whimpering with each thrust. Jose recognized it as a whimper of pain, not pleasure, and he knew he would have to complete his business soon before her pain became too great. Selfishly, he really didn’t care about her discomfort, but realistically, he didn’t want to risk being kicked out of her bed. He changed his angle slightly, increasing his own stimulation, and soon he unloaded his semen deep inside of the haughty noblewoman, filling her with his potent man-seed.

Tessa shuddered when the weasel of a man climaxed, yet again, inside her sore, clenched vagina, his hot, gushing seed filling her womanhood to overflowing. There was no way this could be considered an act of love. It was an act of domination, of control, of supremacy. Being taken from behind filled her with humiliation as she felt that he was treating her no better than a dog.

Relieved that it was over, at least for the moment, Tessa lay her cheek against the bed linen. Rivulets of his discharge spilled down her splayed, quaking legs drenching the linen. Not only would she have to have her linens washed, but also she would probably have to replace the mattress. They both collapsed onto the bed, their bodies sweating profusely in the warm California night.

It was an effort for Tessa to resist the temptation to mentally shut down. She had submitted to his violation of her sacred body only because he had those damning letters, which she had to retrieve.

After both had rested for a while, José rolled to the side and Tessa propped herself on her elbow to face him. She realized that in this position, her breasts were fully exposed before him and decided not to try to hide herself hoping to distract him by the display. She also found herself settling on the cold, clammy cum-drenched linen, sending chills of revulsion down her spine. However, she forced herself to concentrate on the subject on hand.

“Senor,” she began. “We must talk about those letters.”

“Letters?” José responded as if he was distracted by her words.

“Si, Senor, the letters,” Tessa pursued. “I have given you everything you demanded: money . . .” she dropped her eyes, “. . . my body . . .” Gathering her courage, she continued. “I think it’s time to talk about the letters and when you will give them to me.”

José was looking at her, but he wasn’t looking into her eyes. Staring intently, he did not answer her attempt to talk about the letters.

“Senor?” Tessa asked, trying to gain his attention.

Chapter 6: You have a beautiful mouth . . .

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful mouth?”

Tessa was confused by this non sequitur. “Beautiful mouth?” she asked.

“A mouth so beautiful should not spend its efforts making demands on a man . . .” José suggested.

“I don’t understand . . .” stammered a confused Tessa. “But about those letters . . .”

José put the tip of his finger against her lips shutting off her words. “If you put your mouth to better use, I may consider giving you one of the letters,” he declared. His finger shifted and slipped between her lips.

“Beddr uush?” Tessa asked, trying to talk around the finger that had insinuated itself between her teeth.

“Sshhhh,” José said in a smooth and soothing voice. “Suck, Senorita, suck.”

Uncertain about what was happening, Tessa closed her lips around his finger and began sucking on it. Suddenly, the eroticism of what she was doing washed over her and she grabbed his wrist pulling his digit from her mouth.

“Senor! That is not proper!” she stated indignantly. “Please stop!”

“You’re right. It is not proper for a lady to suck on a man’s finger,” José agreed. “However, I have something else for you to suck on, Senorita. And since we are behind closed doors, nothing is improper.”

Tessa stared at him, trying to determine what he was talking about. Suddenly, her eyes widened as she recalled a conversation she had had when she was a young teen talking with an older, more worldly, teenager who had described fellatio to a thoroughly shocked Tessa.

“Senor! You can’t possibly be suggesting . . .” gasped the absolutely scandalized noblewoman.

José nodded. “Indeed, I am!” José’s eyes hardened.

“I cannot! That’s . . . dirty! You cannot expect . . . I’ve never . . . done that . . . ”

“Neither have I,” José interrupted, “but you _*do*_ have a beautiful mouth. Satisfy me with your mouth and I will give you one of the letters.”

Tessa had to get those letters, even if . . .

José rolled on his back and spread his legs. “Be a good girl and make me cum hard."

She _*had*_ to get those letters . . .

Tessa permitted his hand to guide her head toward his lower regions. José’s penis was growing toward erection in the midst of a black tangle of wiry hair.

The letters, she thought again. The letters.

It took great effort for Tessa to ignore the weasel’s potent unwashed stench. Her small hands and slender fingers to encircled José’s weapon and lovingly caressed it, a drop of pre-cum already forming on the tip. She ran her silky smooth tongue down its length, once more resisting the repulsion she felt toward his unwashed body. Licking the precum from him, Tessa kissed the tip of his penis.

She didn’t know what to do. Trying to put every thought out of her mind, she wet her lips and took the head of his penis into her mouth, as if to dampen it. “I can’t believe this is happening to me,” she thought. Glancing up at José, she smiled, hoping to receive his approval, she closed her lips around the end of his instrument. Then concentrating on his member she took it part way into her mouth, but she tried to touch it as little as possible, her innate revulsion still present.

He captured her head between his hands.

“Tessa, Cara,” he whispered, “close your lips and suck on it.”

The letters. She _*had*_ to get those letters . . .

Tessa obeyed. That simple action filled her with the realization that his very large member was between her lips and by sucking, its entire size filled her mouth. José gave a satisfied sigh.

“Now, Cara, your mouth is just like your vagina,” José coached. “You know how to make love with your vagina. Your mouth is simply another orifice. Slide it in and out like you were making love. You are making love with your mouth.”

Tessa acquiesced. She moved her head away from him, then toward him, slipping his penis in and out of her mouth. By maintaining the suction, his entire penis between her lips was being caressed by her mouth.

José desired to make love to her mouth as he had to her vagina. Tessa realized that would involve him pumping in and out of her mouth . . . and he would probably eventually deposit his seed inside her throat. Her face would have to swallow up his entire manhood. Jorge had never demanded this of her! He had asked her to satisfy him with her hand, and she had become somewhat proficient with her hands. But her mouth . . . .?

“Senorita, your mouth is everything I dreamed it might be!” moaned José as Tessa found she had greater control using her mouth than she had using her vagina.

She had asked her lover, Jorge, to teach her the skills of a whore and a courtesan. She had asked him to teach her how to behave like a whore hoping to reserve those skills for her marital bed. But now, there was little doubt in her mind that she was using those skills in a bed that was definitely not her marital bed, giving sexual favors in return for the letters that José possessed. She was prostituting herself for those damned letters!

Sweat beaded on Tessa’s forehead as José’s hands on her head pulled her further onto him forcing his penis deeper into her mouth. Uncertain of what to do next, Tessa ran her tongue over his manhood eliciting another moan from him. His moan indicated she was doing something right. She looked up at him with her gorgeous brown eyes . . . Jorge had taught her that men like eye contact when they are being serviced . . . and, indeed, she was servicing José, listening to his responses, responding to his moans, whoring herself in any way necessary to earn the payment that she desired.

Tessa understood the mechanics of sex. And using her mouth was simply substituting one body cavity for another. Her lips wrapped around his penis, she began pumping her mouth up and down on José’s instrument and almost immediately José began to thrash around.

José was in heaven as he watched Tessa’s mouth engulf his pole. Once more, his hand gravitated to her breasts, doubling the pleasure he was receiving from her. She responded by playing with his balls, an activity that for some strange reason had brought great pleasure to Jorge. And José’s responded immediately to her touch.

"I'm coming," he wailed and his hands clawed at the side of her head, forcing his manhood deeper into her throat, almost choking her. Tessa’s entire concentration was, of necessity, centered on repressing her gag reflex and she didn’t notice José’s writhing in ecstasy until suddenly he orgasmed. His man-meat went crazy, spasming and squirting juice into Tessa's throat. Tessa was in shock as her mouth was flooded and she tried unsuccessfully to pull away, but could not because José’s fingers interwoven in her hair had her head trapped.

Of necessity, she was forced to swallow as burst after burst of his masculine fluids poured into her throat. Each time she swallowed, her throat contracted, stimulating him even more.

As soon as his climax was finished and he released her head from his grip, she lunged toward the side of the bed, grabbing the ‘thunder mug’ and vomiting into it.

It took Tessa some time before she recovered from the ghastly experience. Fortunately, there was a glass of wine next to the bed and with frequent sipping, her stomach settled. She further attempted to use the wine to remove the taste of _*him*_ from her mouth. As she was beginning to return to normal, Tessa reminded José as gently and tactfully as she could he had taken so long in taking his pleasure that midnight was approaching and it was necessary that he leave by that time.

Chapter 7: “More . . .”

“If I remember correctly, Senorita,” José responded in an off-handed manner, “Senor Maldonado never left after his first, or even second, time. Since I am taking his place in your bed, I believe I’m entitled to have you at least three or maybe four times before I leave.”

Exhaustion and revulsion swept over Tessa. “Not again! Not after that!” she exclaimed. She still felt nauseous from what she had just experienced. “Senor, I beg you . . . you cannot expect . . . .”

“Enough talk. On your back, Senorita.”

“Senor, I have more than lived up to any agreement we may have had!” Tessa objected, weakly. “I’ve given you my body. And my mouth. You have demanded quite enough from me!” She tried to rise and move away from the bed. “I am sore, and . . . .” José’s smooth hand grasped her elbow with a strength that belied his small stature.

“Lie down on your back again!"

Tessa was overwhelmed that her archenemy could make such demands and she was not able to protect herself. As bad as Tessa felt, she also felt strangely calm and maybe somewhere deep down she was enjoying being dominated. Sullenly, she reclined on her back and bent her knees, opening herself for him.

José was even more turned on by her submitting to him. He had felt lust for the haughty and untouchable Senorita Alvarado just as every other man in the region felt! And, he also had lusted for the Queen of Swords, a fantasy who would appear, do her work, and vanish. Ever since he had realized that Tessa Alvarado was in fact the Queen of Swords, his lust for her body had intensified. And now, with every pore of his bring, his lusts were complete because now he had the power to force her to satisfy his every desire! She was naked, obedient to his every wish!

Tessa moaned miserably as José pushed his cock into her. She was sore, but her body was adjusting, so she was not in great pain. For José, it was a fantasy fulfilled. His rod slid into her, giving her all of his length. José couldn't believe how good she felt, so hot and wet. She was snug but not particularly tight, but then again, José knew she wasn’t a virgin.

José had never brought Tessa to orgasm, and she doubted that he ever would. He simply wasn’t a good enough lover. And he just didn’t care. Tessa could have taught him if he was willing to listen and wanted to learn. But José wasn’t interested in becoming a good lover. He had no interest in giving pleasure and he had no interest in satisfying his partner. He only wanted to take whatever he could, to enjoy his own gratification. His only interest in her was that he could dominate her. And as long as he possessed those letters, she had to yield. And even if he no longer possessed the letters, he still knew that she was the Queen of Swords. And that knowledge alone was more than enough to insure her continued submission to him. He started thrusting in and out of her and she closed her eyes. Was it in pleasure? José pounded into her harder and harder.

Telling herself that she could speed the process, Tessa began acting like a whore, wrapping her legs around him, tossing her sweat-soaked mane of tangled dark hair, arching her spine, pressing her aching, gleaming breasts against his chest, and digging her nails into his back.

Ecstatic with her participation, José realized that although his manhood had achieved erection, his body was not yet ready for a climax, so he slowed his tempo down, varying his angle of thrust, alternating quick thrusts with slower ones. Tessa continued to respond to his leading, even pressing her hips into his when he gave an especially deep thrust.

It seemed like an eternity was passing as Tessa lay, rocking her hips into his. She was getting raw inside, but nothing she did would bring him to climax, and he wasn’t willing to stop until he had deposited his seed inside her once more.

Likewise, for José, the frustration was growing. His thrusting continued and he raised back to watch the beautiful face beneath him, sometimes cringing, sometimes flinching. True, she was responding, meeting his thrusts, but he wanted to cum again and it just wasn’t happening!

Suddenly, he stopped his thrusts. Tessa hoped that this was a prelude to his climax, but nothing happened. She looked up at him.

@@ masked

“Senorita, it occurs to me,” José stated, panting, “that we have enjoyed sex several times.” Inwardly Tessa cringed at the word ‘enjoyed’. José continued, “but I have never had the pleasure of making love with the Queen of Swords. Let us correct that omission.”

Tessa was uncertain. He knew her secret already. He had taken her. And since she was the Queen, he had already made love with the Queen when he took her.

José withdrew from her and continued, “Please get your mask and return to my bed wearing it so I can fuck the infamous Queen before departing tonight.” The reference to ‘his bed’ incensed Tessa. Also, she resented his crude language. Agreeing to this request would be a frank admission that she was, in fact, the Queen of Swords, and that was something she had not yet done.

As always, Tessa’s objections were given short shrift. Finally, it seemed to Tessa that giving him this boon might be the quickest way to satisfy him and get him to leave. And the dark haired beauty concluded she would have to satisfy this pig in every possible way until she retrieved those letters. Obviously, he would not leave until he climaxed, and his climax, so far, showed no indication of occurring. So, bitterly, she left the bed to walk across the room, naked (a sight that gave José great enjoyment), to an armoire and retrieve her mask. After donning it, she returned, a nude Queen of Swords wearing only her filmy, black lace mask, a sheen of sweat, and a small patch of pubic hair, to her appointed place, reclining next to José, her hair spreading in an angelic halo around her exquisite face.

Instantly, José’s hands were all over her, molesting her breasts, squeezing the small pouch on her stomach, mauling her buttocks. He sucked and bit her nipples hurting her, and his fingers quickly probed every orifice of her body. He wasn’t gentle.

@@fm

Abruptly he was on top of her and inside her again, thrusting like a madman.

By now, Tessa was getting used to the humiliation of being mauled, probed, bitten, sucked and fucked by this man, but it didn’t make things any easier. There was still no foreplay, no hint of affection, simply brutal rape. Thankfully her body was adapting, her loins were already moist and warm. There was even a tingle in her sensitive breast that might be pleasure. And that disgusted her.

José was ecstatic. He had his cock inside the Queen of Swords. Never had he been so big, so hard, so erect, so excited! He fucked her with reckless abandon and she was screwing him back, gasping, raking her fingernails over his back.

Quickly the pressure built within him. He was enjoying every minute of it. Watching her face as he pounded into her, she was cringing and flinching beneath him, but her hips were rolling into his pressing him even deeper into her. As his climax rapidly approached, new and disjointed thoughts entered his mind: Up until this moment, his intentions had been only to enjoy her body the same as he might enjoy any other whore. He had not considered his activities beyond the short-term domination and fucking of this beautiful woman. Now, with the thrill of making love with the Queen of Swords, a new possibility occurred to him. Maybe he would impregnate her. And that would increase his hold over her even more. If she was carrying his bastard child, she would _*have *_ to hire him as a retainer in her household, or at least pay him a handsome settlement to get him to leave the area. He could go to Spain a rich man!

José had no illusions that she would marry him. He was much too low a station for her to consider marriage. But still, she could hire him as a retainer and he could continue to have access to her and to see his son grow.

This climax would be his best ever. He would probably come so hard his jism would pour out of her ears! Knowing her secret, he could bed her any time he wanted. And he resolved to fuck her every night until he knew she was carrying his child!

Tessa, wanting to complete their copulation as quickly as possible, began using her body in ways he hadn’t imagined, trying to encourage him to climax. It was already well past midnight and José was thrusting in earnest, grunting as he penetrated her to the hilt. He had been thrusting for so long that she was abraded. It felt like her insides were being scraped with pumice stone. It hurt! Sensing that he was approaching his climax, Tessa responded with all the enthusiasm she could muster, urging him onward. José’s hand came to her breast, holding it, caressing it, but still he didn’t cum.

“Mi senor,” she begged, “you’re hurting me! Please!”

She had called him ‘mi senor’, _*my Lord!_* She acknowledged his superior position over. He thrust his hand upward, sweeping the mask from her face revealing Tessa’s pained visage.

“My mask . . . . !” Tessa cried out, horror in her eyes at being unmasked, oblivious for the moment that the weasel on top of her already knew her identity. Still, the visceral reaction of being unmasked sent shock waves throughout her body. Unplanned, her vaginal muscles clutched him. And she felt something hot and wet shoot inside of her.

Her shocked, terrified expression and sudden clutching of his male member sent José surging over his limit and he plowed hard into her. Unable to control himself, once again he spewed his cum deep into the haughty noblewoman in long, hard spasms, filling her with his potent man-seed. He exploded like a powder magazine exposed to a spark, one keg of powder after another blasting like a chain reaction with awe-inspiring force. The infamous Queen of swords moaned in defeat as he pumped his ejaculate into her open womb, each blast into the de-masked Queen carrying his baby-making sperm.

Gradually, his supply of semen was spent and the after shocks of his climax were reduced to occasional twitches of his penis. Both partners lay panting, he on top of her, their sweaty bodies pressed together,

Very tired, Tessa lay beneath him, no longer noticing the wet linens beneath her buttocks. She was glad it was finally over.

“Senor,” she whispered, “it is after midnight. You must leave now.”

Sated, José nodded and withdrew. Without further conversation, he slid from her bed. She watched as he dressed, waiting for an opportunity to remind him that he had promised to give her at least one of the letters in return for his shameful use of her mouth, but José surprised her by asking, “I am curious. You’ve never mentioned the fear of getting pregnant. Why is that?”

The question surprised and distracted Tessa and she chose not to respond. There was no need for him to know that she was already carrying someone else’s baby. After a moment, José turned and left, and Tessa’s heart sank as she realized she had missed the opportunity to demand the letter.

Once he was gone, she found the heated bath prepared for her, but Marta was not present. Tessa wondered why. But the bath was so soothing after a night of abuse that she didn’t worry about it as she sank into the warm water.

Chapter 8 - José’s destiny.

Gossip travels fast around small towns such as St. Helena. It was early in the day when one of Tessa’s maids whispered to Tessa that a clerk for the Ambassador, a man named José, had been killed the night before. Apparently he had returned home and interrupted a thief robbing his house. There wasn’t much of a struggle, but José had been killed and his room had been ransacked. As always, it was rumored that the Queen of Swords was probably the culprit, especially when evidence was found that José had been stealing money from the Ambassador. But the infamous Queen was dismissed as a suspect due to the circumstances of the clerk’s death. The Queen of Swords was noted for defeating and humiliating her opponents, but she did not kill them gratuitously. Also, the maid whispered scandalously that it was rumored that José had been mutilated before he died. When Tessa pressed for details, the maid suddenly became quite embarrassed and couldn’t bring herself to reveal the details.

Almost before the maid had completed her report, Tessa’s faithful servant and companion, Marta, stepped into the room to stand beside her mistress, dismiss the chambermaid and escort the maid from the room, closing the door behind her. Then Marta took Tessa’s arm and steered her into the sitting room, a familiarity that would be unthinkable for anyone else.

“You have heard of the death of the clerk named José?” Marta asked.

An extremely agitated Tessa replied, “Yes! And he has Jorge’s letters. If they are found in his room . . . .”

As quickly as the words had left Tessa’s mouth, Marta had raised a hand cutting off her mistress mid-sentence and forestalling her questions.

“It was most unfortunate that apparently he disturbed a robber in his room and was killed. It is said the robber didn’t take many valuables . . . José had very few personal possessions. The only things that were stolen are items that the ambassador would probably never miss.” The faithful gypsy maid removed three envelopes from her large pocket, handing them to her mistress.

“Jorge’s letters . . .” Tessa gasped. The seal on all three envelopes had been broken and Tessa quickly removed the page from each, determining that they were indeed Jorge’s letters to the various officials exposing her secret identity as the Queen of Swords. Disbelief and relief covered her face as she looked at Marta, who took the letters and dropped them into the fire where they were quickly consumed.

“And one other item,” Marta continued producing a book from her pocket. “It appears that José kept a diary, a journal of his daily activities. “The final pages of the diary are largely about you . . .” Marta paused to tear a number of pages from the book and handed them to Tessa. Tessa’s eyes widened as she scanned a description of José’s suspicions of Jorge and his report of spying on Jorge and his activities. A few pages later, Tessa gasped with horror as she read his report of his activities with _*her*_ . . . described in malicious detail.

“I doubt that anyone would have any interest in these pages,” Marta concluded, removing the pages from Tessa’s hands and consigning them to the fire also. Both women watched as the manuscript, the only remaining evidence of José’s relationship with Tessa, burst into flame and crinkled into ashes.

Gesturing toward José’s diary, Marta resumed, “Apparently he had done quite a few evil acts earlier in his career working first for the Alcalde and then for the Ambassador,” Marta paused, carefully choosing her words, “deeds that hurt people, mostly young innocent and virgin peasant girls who could not defend themselves . . . “

‘Just as I was unable to defend myself,’ Tessa thought.

Marta continued: “. . . things that could lead to his prosecution if he were still alive and the girls were willing to testify. But in all probability, they would be too ashamed to tell the court what he had done to them.

“Perhaps you, or the Queen of Swords might wish to offer some assistance these poor innocents to rectify some of the evil things done to them.” Marta handed the diary to Tessa, who stared at it blankly.

“But now, perhaps you’d like to sit by the fire and read for a little while,” Marta suggested, and dumbly, Tessa nodded her head and sat. Marta continued, “Shall I fetch you a glass of wine?” Without waiting for an answer, the gypsy maid slipped noiselessly toward the door.

“Marta!” Tessa spoke, stopping her servant. “Apparently there was something unusual about José’s death, something that disturbed my maid. Do you know anything about that?”

Marta gave a satisfied smirk, a gesture that was most unusual for her.

“Of course, I know nothing first hand . . .”

“Of course!”

“But it seems that José’s . . . shall we say . . . his _*manly*_ attributes were torn from his body with a serrated knife and shoved down his own throat . . .”

Tessa blanched at the image.

“I have heard that no one knows whether he suffocated or he bled to death before his throat was cut.” Marta concluded. “I don’t imagine it was a pleasant way to die.”

Marta moved to the door. “I’ll get you that glass of wine. Then we must discuss your trip to Spain. There is a ship in port that will be leaving for Spain next week. I think we should arrange passage for the two of us.”

Marta, Tessa’s gypsy retainer, enigmatic but always faithful and dependable, slipped through the door.

Tessa sat, watching the last of the pages crumble to ashes in the fireplace.

Her mind returned to her immediate responsibilities. She no longer had to worry about José, or about maintaining the secrecy about her activities as the Queen of Spades.

Dismissing these thoughts from her mind, she recognized it would not be easy raising a child without a husband. But fortunately, she had a loving household to assist her, and especially, she had the wise counsel of her faithful gypsy retainer, Marta. Without a husband, Tessa might not be able to live the fairly tale life and ‘live happily ever after’, but she could be contented with what she had and who she was, secure in the love of her household and her friends.

A new thought crossed Tessa’s mind. Perhaps she could visit the Spanish court after her baby was born. Using the cover story she had prepared, she would be a grieving widow with an infant child. Possibly, she might meet a widower who might be a suitable match for her. It was worth a try.