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Author's infos Gender: Female Age: 28 Location: Somewhere in Texas |
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| Introduction: Chapter 3: A Brief Summary of The Festivities | ||
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CHAPTER 3: The Festivities I’m certain the festivities were like none other. I imagine the decorations were unsurpassed. The food, heavenly. But I noticed none of it. I tried to keep my wits about me but it was no use. My world contained only Gerchek’s never-ending gazes and the wine I was ingesting at an alarming rate. The wine was dissolving my resolve and it was harder and harder to avoid looking into Gerchek’s eyes. I watched, entranced as they undulated between blue and green, then back again. Visions swirled in my head. I saw myself lowering my body onto his perfect frame. I saw him surround me, taking my breast into his mouth. I saw him placing his fingers into my moistened cleft. Each image came and went before I could grasp exactly what I had seen. I would still be dissecting the picture in my head when the next would appear. I became hotter and hotter. I thought the heat was from the drink but I wasn’t na? enough to be sure it wasn’t the visions. When I felt a sudden twitch betwixt my legs, I was certain it wasn’t just the wine. I quickly realized I was getting wet. And, although I couldn’t be sure, I felt that Gerchek knew it as well. Douglas came to seat himself beside me. Distracted, I tried to be cordial but keep the obvious distaste that was always in my voice when I addressed him. He wished me a happy honeymoon but the tone in his voice left me more worried than I had already been. He excused himself saying he had to sort out the details of his evening and then he swept away. I believe it was the most amiable exchange we’ve ever had but there was something in his tone that left me with unease. And a glance at Gerchek confirmed my fears. His face held a wicked half smile that’s meaning was both obvious and undecipherable. When Douglas left, Gerchek sat himself beside me. “Drink another glass of wine, Princess.” He commanded. I reached forward and took the glass, knowing there was no point in resisting. Halfway through the glass I realized his hand was up my dress and resting on my thigh, very near my moistening sex. I didn’t even have an idea how long it had been there. I leaned into his ear and pleaded with him, “Please, I can take no more. Please stop these games. I do not wish to be married to you. And I do not wish you to have your way with me. Please stop forcing these things upon me. Haven’t you taken enough from me?” The pain in my voice was obvious. The fear, the despair dripped from every word spoken. His response was simple. His hand slid farther up my leg. It reached my wet little nub and a finger began to stroke softly, slowly across the very tip. I gasped. “Please! I beg you! Stop this before I am ruined. This is cruel beyond words!” His finger began to press harder, making large circles around my sex. “Stop! Please!” His finger traveled up and down my drenched cleft. “Just enjoy it, Princess.” This time his voice was soothing and hypnotic. But it was still a command. I could feel my face relax as fear was replaced with pleasure. My iron grip on the glass of wine I had been commanded to drink relaxed and only then did I realize how hard I had been grasping it. His skilled finger continued to work on my most private parts for what seemed a lifetime. I was lost in the un-ending pleasure of it. I relaxed and leaned back in the chair, again unaware I had been so rigid until I wasn’t anymore. I was lost in a sea of my own pleasure. I was faintly aware that Gerchek continued to eat and drink and make conversation with those around us. No one the wiser about his busy fingers. His affect on me did not go unnoticed. My father noticed my blissful appearance and smiled at me. “Daughter! I think that wine has done you well! You seem to be a bit more yourself.” “Oooooohhhhhh, yessssssss, Father.” It came out nearly a moan but I hoped, mortified, that it perhaps simply sounded like I was slurring my words. “Perhaps the princess would like to dance?” Came Gerchek’s voice from my side. “Oh, no. No, I don’t think that….. I feel I may have had too much to drink.” Was my reply. I was telling a partial truth. The wine was swimming in my head but I was reluctant to stand. My virgin sex was vibrating between my legs. My body was hot and I felt flushed. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to stand on my own two legs. Much less dance. And furthermore, to my everlasting shame, I didn’t want Gerchek to stop manipulating my inexperienced sex. It felt so amazing I could think of nothing else but keeping this feeling forever. “One dance, Princess. It is our wedding night after all. It is tradition.” Gerchek’s last words rang in my head as if someone had dropped a platter behind me. Tradition was the reason I was in this mess to begin with! The competition, the marriage all because of our stupid traditions! And now, here I was, enjoying sexual advances from the man I hated most in the world (and loving it I’m ashamed to admit) all because of our stupid traditions. I nodded my head discreetly and rose next to him. He took my hand and addressed the crowd gathered in the Great Hall. “Our first dance as husband and wife!” He roared across the room. The music stopped and the couples that had been dancing moved to the edges of the expansive floor. We made our way to the center of the room. All eyes on us. My head still trying to focus on the here and now. My loins still focused on Gerchek’s skillful hand. He took one hand in his and placed his other on the small of my back. I felt a twinge between my legs at the close contact. The music began and his posture stiffened. He nodded at me and began to sweep across the room. I had not been mistaken about his grace before. He floated as if his feet didn’t touch the ground. His footfalls were inaudible even though I knew he was wearing heavy boots. “Please, this is humiliating. This is degrading. This is evil. Please stop this game.” I begged. “This is the game I play, Princess. I love breaking young women. And you are surpassed by none. I must admit. I was a little disheartened at how readily you responded to my advances. I was looking forward to the fight. His crooked smile appeared again. I jerked away from him in disgust and shock. His reflexes were quick and he pulled me closer. “Watch your actions, Princess. We don’t want to alarm anyone. They may think I’m not treating you as well as I should. And do not pretend you did not enjoy my hands all over that sopping wet cunt of yours!” My mouth dropped open in horror. ‘Cunt’? What a vulgar word to us before a princess! I managed to gather myself as I responded. “You forced me to enjoy that! You commanded me to enjoy it. I would have scratched your eyes out had I had the choice.” “But it felt good, Princess. Admit it.” “No. I’ll not give you the pleasure.” “Admit it. Tell me every detail about how it felt. Tell me the whole truth.” I realized the first time had been a request only because I knew the second time hadn’t been. I clenched my teeth as my mouth began to form the words but after a few seconds of fighting it, my jaw hurt so much that I slackened it and the words flowed forth. “I loved it. I loved having you fondling my sex. Your hand seemed to be everywhere all at once and I couldn’t help but enjoy the pleasure. I wanted you to stop. But at some point, I didn’t. I didn’t want you to ever stop! I wanted to enjoy that feeling for the rest of my life. And furthermore, I want to know what other pleasures you can give me.” That last part was a surprise even to me. But I realized it was true. If just his hand could bring me that much pleasure, what must the rest of him be able to do? “I want you to show me more pleasure. I want to know what I’ve been missing, staying so pure.” I stopped. I guess that was all he needed to hear. He leaned closer and whispered into my ear. “Well, Princess, I suppose we had better get started making you my Whore Queen! Come now, it’s a long journey to our honeymoon. I don’t want to make you wait for your surprise. Go say goodbye to your father. Be cheerful about it. Make it special-it may be the last time you see him. But don’t do or say anything to hint that you might be less than thrilled at our marriage. I wouldn’t want him worrying about you. Was he serious? Would he really keep me from seeing my father again? Or, I shuddered, did he mean that my father wouldn’t be around much longer? I skipped, much against my will, over to my father and said my goodbyes. He kissed me with his tender old lips and hugged me with his strong but frail arms. I reminded him how much I loved him and that he would always be the greatest King Elyria had ever seen. And then I (against my will) happily met my husband by the door to the hall and left the life I knew behind. |
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