A lord picks a well-rumored serf to dominate into being his bedmate - a series to follow if well received.
This is simply the first in a series I hope to develop - please enjoy, and I promise to post more soon!
The messenger's horn rings out across the feudal plains.
"Hear ye, hear ye, serfs! Lord James will soon be upon thee to seek out his annual gift from his people. Prepare your women for his review."
Robert spits upon the ground as the messenger passes and hurries to his shoddy excuse for shelter. His lordship has made it a yearly habit to ride amongst his serfs to choose the prettiest of the women for his own personal pleasure. Robert's daughter, Isabelle, has just reached plucking age. Rumors are already running rampant through the small serf village of his daughter's vitality, and he knows if the lord has heard the rumors, he will be upon Robert's dirt doorstep in no time.
His wife, Lily is scrubbing clothes when he arrives. The look on his face tells her all she needs to know.
"Do you really think he will take her?"
"I do not know. I hardly doubt he has not been privy to the petty gossip, and no man would not look for a pleasure companion in a woman that according to callous lore is practically demonically possessed with the traits he wishes to cultivate."
Lily considers his statement, "What if it is what is best for her future?"
Robert balks at such a suggestion, "Her future? She is a serf. What favor could she possible gain, even as his whore?" he practically spits the last word in disgust.
She shivers at the declaration, "I am merely suggesting that a woman such as her may possess enough of her own skills to earn power where others have earned further submission -"
"Silence, Lily - she is nearing us."
Isabelle enters the dwelling in a swirl of scent. Her own father steels himself against the innate sensuality that emanates from her person, her mother's face a mask of pride and revulsion.
"His lordship is about to enter the village," her voice dances through the silence, pale pink lips not betraying the emotion she feels for his arrival.
"We know," Robert answers, strained, "Hide in the back."
Isabelle draws herself up to her full stature. Though she is petite in size, her essence seems larger than life, stretching from her tanned feet and toned legs, further past her trim waist, flat stomach, and breasts to her deep chocolate eyes and auburn hair that sweeps her waist.
"You will be punished," she states, knowing her father is aware of the consequences of disobeying his lordship.
He casts her a glance and shakes his head. Her defiance was born of a good heart; she did not want her family to suffer for her sake.
Lily breaks the tension, "Go to the back, Isabelle. What will happen, will happen."
The messenger's horn announces Lord James' arrival. He rides upon a grey horse, trimmed in the deep purple of royals. The serfs line the streets in submission, well trained in the ceremony of James' selection process. He rides down the narrow lane, already informed of the front runners for his consideration. He glances here and there, dismissing the homier girls to a life of farming hardship.
The messenger leads him straight to Robert and Lily, who stand pseudo-guard to the dilapidate entrance of their home.
James' glances down at them, looking for the now-infamous Isabelle.
"My messenger tells me you have a daughter, serf, yet I do not see her amongst the crowd."
"She is ill, my lord. Caught sick with a plague."
The lord's eyebrows raise in surprise. Could his messenger really have suggested a disease-ridden skank to frequent his bed?
The messenger quickly asserts his honesty, "My lord, the girl was spotted this morning amongst the fields. Your own personal guards will support my claim."
James' turns back to Robert. "I can call my guards out to supports this messenger's claim, or you can reconsider what you have just told me."
Robert bows his head and opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by Lily.
"My lord, I know I am aged, but please take me in my daughter's stead. She is too defiant to serve a man such as yourself."
"Woman, while I admire your sacrifice, I have no need for you. Also, it is the defiance you speak of that intrigues me so. Bring her out now or so help me -" James' lifts his riding crop to strike them both.
Isabelle walks between her parents and the whip.
"Here I am, your lordship. There is no need for your cruelty."
His eyes roam her body as his ears burn at her insolence. Her breasts are barely contained in a tight bodice that moulds her small waist into a skirt torn short to above her knees.
The whip strikes her face; she turns to him and spits blood, her eyes burning in hatred. James' feels himself twitch at the sight - she is nearly perfect, if only -
He drags the tip of the crop across the cleavage that Isabelle so graciously exposes. The reaction seals her perfection. Her eyes begin to glaze, breath caught in her throat, a purr softly and unwillingly escaping. The tip continues into the bodice, circling a nipple before suddenly being forced deep towards her groin. Instead of her defiance, there is only a strangled moan of pleasure as Isabelle tosses her head back and bites her lip in useless resistance.
As suddenly as he completed the test, James' removes the crop, causing a gasp to emit from Isabelle and the abated breath of the crowd.
The blood from her wound slowly drips down the corner of her beautiful, now red-stained lips. Robert shakes his head as Lily weeps silently at his side. The rumors are true - Isabelle is only one action away from a wanton whore.
Grabbing her arm, Lord James' pulls Isabelle to sit behind him on his horse. He calls to his messenger, "See to it that they are rewarded for their gift," and rides off quickly. Isabelle, having been so brusquely sat on the horse, does not ride in the ladylike sidesaddle position, but rather straddles the horse, causing her poor excuse of a skirt to bunch around her waist.
Her pussy, barely clad in a scrap of fabric, rubs against James' ass as he rides towards the castle. Trying to resist her lust, she digs her nails into his chest, pretending to hold on for dear life. He pushes her hands to his own growing need - "If you hurt me, you will be thrown from this horse." She simply holds on, unwilling to please him beyond necessity. Her touch is far more than enough, and the motion of the horse runs his cock again and again between her clasping hands. Isabelle finally can no longer resist the pulsing between her legs and gasps with her orgasm, biting James' shirt to keep from shouting in pleasure. Her breasts rests upon his back, and he is acutely aware of her moaning. His own orgasm quickly comes, much to his dismay, to the sounds of her suppressed ecstasy.
They reach the castle, and Lord James dismounts. Isabelle follows, sheepishly. A guard grabs her shoulders under the pretense of leading her behind James; his hands slide to her breasts, and Isabelle bucks like a wild mare. Lord James turns around, snatching her from the guard's grasp.
"You shall have her when I am finished with her," he admonishes.
He then lifts her over his shoulder, holding her in place with a firm grasp on her pert ass. Isabelle squirms, but she knows she will only make the situation worse the harder she fights. Plus, she does not want to get thrown in the moat that James is now crossing to reach the castle entrance.
James moves through the castle effortless, even under Isabelle's weight. A few moments into the maze, she is utterly confused as to a path out and is nearly relieved when he comes to a stop outside a chamber. Entering, he throws her onto a large bed. Isabelle deftly rolls off of the soft prison and races towards the door. James' grabs her before she can make her escape and tosses her like a rag doll back to the bed. She punches him hard in the face; the two of them stare at each other in equal shock. James grasps her throat and pushes her down. She whimpers as he lashes her hands to either post of the bed. When she kicks in defiance, James binds her ankles as well.
He sits beside her, observing her as she pants and struggles against her bindings. Isabelle's bodice dips dangerously low with her actions, and James cannot resist cupping her left breast with his hand. She still struggles but moans as his thumb works its way over her hard nub of a nipple that is now clearly visible through the thin fabric. Both of his hands join into the action, caressing and teasing both tits. In one rough motion, James rips the bodice, revealing her hard pink nipples and tight, toned stomach. Isabelle gasps, her back arching to push her tits closer to his probing hands. He straddles her hips, groping and lowering his mouth to taste her sweet flesh.
Her whining makes his dick rock hard. James begins to rub himself against her, maneuvering himself between her legs to feel the heat of her pussy. A slow grind at first, he revels in the heat, the taboo of not allowing himself to be fully against her. Isabelle loses herself in his oral manipulations, whimpering as he licks and sucks first one nipple, then the other. James' patience grows thin, and he rips the rest of her garment from her body, leaving her completely bare to his roving eyes.
His fingers begin to probe her wet snatch, finding her far wet enough for him to enter immediately. He barely resists, knowing that breaking her will be the ultimate pleasure. Instead, he rubs her delicate nub, while sucking her breasts and enjoying the whimpers and moans Isabelle can no longer hide. James frees his cock, and Isabelle screams in anticipation of his penetration. Instead, James rubs his length between her cunt lips, coating himself in her juice. Humping her, James knows the torture he is doing to himself is even worse for her - Isabelle has no idea he has no intent on fucking her now, but she tenses and struggles, fearful of his stabbing hardness. Her motions only serve to get him closer to climax, and as he reaches his peak, he moves up to her face, jacking his dick with intent to aim and cum on her face.
To his surprise, she opens her mouth and takes his length willing, her tongue teasing his sensitive head. The unexpected gesture easily frees his cum, spewing into her mouth and willingly swallowed by her sweet lips. He groans, gently fucking her mouth for good measure. James stands, leaving his prey tied as he rearranges his clothing. She whines, wordlessly begging for her own release. He leans over and takes a long, slow lick of her aching pussy.
Isabelle screams, so close to cumming it hurts, but she does not find her release, which is just how James wants it. He leaves her alone, tied to the bed, horny, and completely unable to satiate her obvious need.
A hour or so passes. Isabelle has ceased struggling, staring at the erotically painted ceiling in the darkening light. Despite her best efforts, she could not free herself, nor twist in such a way as to find her release, orgasmic or otherwise. James opens the door quietly, watching her contemplate her current situation.
"Supper awaits," he startles her. In a few steps, he is by the bed, his fingers caressing the wet flesh that has yet to stop aching for attention. Isabelle moans in appreciation, and then looks at James in astonishment as he places a heavy metal collar and chain around her neck.
"You are going to be a good pet," he says, untying her arms and legs, and retying her arms in such a way so she cannot touch herself. James then leads her from the room. She follows obediently at first, then begins to resist as she hears increasing noise.
He is leading her to a ballroom full of horny men.
She sinks to her knees in attempts to stall him from her humiliation.
"Please, your lordship, do not do this to me," she begs, pulling at the chain.
James pulls back, "You love the attention, according to your village. Let us discover how much."
"NO!" she screams, rubbing her cheek on his thigh, "please sir, anything but that!"
James reaches down and cups one of her tits, actually contemplating keeping her completely to himself. Her lips graze his hardening dick through his pants, her eyes a little too confident that he will fall victim to her wily administrations.
He pulls her to her feet, "You will learn to be far more subservient, slut," and practically tosses her into the room. The guests fall completely silent. Though they are far from strangers to Lord James' ceremonious unveiling of his newest toy, Isabelle is a particularly fine specimen. The all-male crowd stirs restlessly, feeling their cocks twitch at the sight of her trembling, naked form.
She sits prostrate throughout the dinner, the men taking surreptitious rubs of their excited dicks. Afterwards, James announces,
"Dessert, gentlemen, if you please …"
He pulls Isabelle up and lays her onto the table, her knees bent with her legs hanging over the side. James then binds her ankles to the legs of the table.
"A lick per guest, as only a hospitable host will offer."
The men scramble to form a shoddy excuse of a line near James. The first kneels and takes a long, slow lick of Isabelle's glistening pussy. She squirms at his touch, whining, and the man then reluctantly walks off, pulling his cock from his trousers as he does. The line then continues, one after enough, each man kneels and tastes James' new fruit. Some men take quick licks, barely able to pull their dicks out before cumming hard into their hands. Others latch on, licking long enough to earn a squeal from Isabelle and an admonishment from James. These men then stand close to Isabelle's side, watching the action and leisurely stroking their cocks to the sight of their fellow men tasting her wet snatch. The last man is one of these, flipping her clit with his tongue and sneaking a finger in to probe her now soaked cunt. Isabelle's orgasm comes dangerously near, her moans reaching the highest of pitches before James pushes him off.
He thens finds his place next to Isabelle's side and grins as she turns her head to extend her tongue towards his dick. While James is involved in his own licking of her snatch, Isabelle's tongue laps at the last man's cock. He grunts, pumping his cum onto her tits. The other men, watching the lewd show, jostle each other to be at Isabelle's head. Another man receives her tongue lashing as the more impatient ones simply jerk themselves onto her tits and stomach. James opens his eyes to a cum-covered slut, much to his chagrin. The men stop, anticipating dire consequences. James waves them on, inviting them to cum onto her tits and stomach.
"Save her face and mouth for me," he orders, then sits back and watches as man after man stands for Isabelle's licks and then deposits himself onto her breasts. Some of the more brazen ones grab a gooey tit, rubbing the head of their dicks on her lips before cumming dutifully like the others. One goes too far and tries to shove his length into Isabelle's warm mouth. He gets in long enough to know how amazingly warm her mouth is; he is then forcefully carried away from the orgy, cum spurting from his dick onto the cold stone floor.
James takes his place at her head, forcing his cock into her mouth. She sucks and laps greedily at his salty tip, working faster as he groans. He cums hard, spilling over her lips onto her face. Isabelle swallows, licking the rest of James' jism from around her lips.
The sights and experience has only amplified Isabelle's lust. Just a simple gust of air could send her spasming on an amazing, toe curling cum. James rips her from the table, throwing her over his shoulder, dick bouncing with the rhythm of his walk. The men watch, exhausted by their endeavors.
James barely makes it to the bed. He bends Isabelle to lay flat, her ass and pussy exposed to his needs. He begins to feast on her now swollen clit, knowing she is moments from cumming. As her screams reach a crescendo, he stops.
"My lord! Please!! Have some mercy on your willing slut!" she begs.
He inserts two fingers into her twat, shocked at the extreme tightness he finds. The villagers got one thing wrong - Isabelle was still a virgin, despite her wanton ways. James positions his dick at the entrance to her pussy, no longer able to resist his own lust to fuck her despite his willingness to torture her further. The tip glistens with her juice, and her begging continues,
"Please, your lordship, fuck me. Fuck me hard, just like those men wanted to."
The dirty slut's talk seals her fate - James pushes forward, breaking the virgin swiftly and completely. Isabelle screams, but pushes her hips back for more. He pounds her cunt, rubbing her clit wildly, determined to hear her first true intercourse orgasm. He does not have to wait long - Isabelle gasps and screams, "Yes yes YES YES YES AAAAHHHHH" and her twat clenches around his dick, spasming with her final release. James' cock cannot withstand the massaging assault and releases its cum deep into Isabelle's warm depths, spurting numerous times despite his previous orgasms.
He collapses against her back, exhausted and blissfully aware of her shuddering and panting. He smiles satisfactorily.