Thread: The Handmaiden's Tale (Wander and Chanti)

The crisp metallic taste of his blood on her tongue was the sweet taste of victory. That victory shone in her eyes as she glared up at him, reveling in the astonishment reflected in his own eyes. But payment was swift, and her victory was bitterly short-lived. She glared up at him as he loomed over her, his handsome face twisted into a veritable picture of the fury of the gods. Fear lanced her heart at his pronouncement of her fate, and once again tears welled up. Tears she hated, tears she frantically tried to blink away. The last thing she wanted to do was show him how much his words hurt. Smack! The crack of his hand against her face was echoed with her soft wounded cry as her head snapped to the side. Her bruised lip curled as she sneered up at him, sharp words edged with anger, contempt, and fear. So this is the vaunted honor of Herodontus! The beating and rape of an innocent virgin! A shining example of the honor of our Grecian army! It as was if he had not heard her. His hand fell again and again, slamming against her cheek until both of her lips were bruised and broken and swollen, her own blood mixing with the taste of his. Blood trickled from her nose that had caught the edge of one of his slaps. She was dizzy, her head throbbing, her cheeks burning. Her ears roared , and she licked her lips, tasting the warmth of her pain and his anger. Dear gods, she hated him. She flinched when he spat on her face, the thick fluid splattering against her face, dribbling down her cheeks as it mixed with her tears. She hated herself for crying, for letting him see the pain he caused her. Her shriek tore through the bedchamber when he ripped her clothes off her body, her bare breasts jiggling delightfully as her curved body convulsed. His hands held her small wrists, burying her slender limbs in the soft bed-linens. She screamed again when his teeth sank into her dusky nipple, this time not a scream of outrage but of pure sweet pain. There was no pleasure for her. Not with the swarm of hot emotions rolling in her flat belly. Hatred, contempt, shame, anger, fear, pain.all of it working together to block any hint of pleasure in this brutally cruel rape. It took her a moment to realize her arms were free, his hands busy groping her soft breasts with bruising force. She attacked immediately, viciously. Fingers clawing at his face, his hair, his bare shoulders. Small futile blows with all the fury of her female body behind them raining down on his head and shoulders. Another vicious little feral snarl of hurt anger a hissing, spitting kitten that found herself flipped onto her belly before she knew what had happened. Again a victim to his strength and expert control. Like an angry child she balled up her hands into fists and slammed them down into the bed, screaming in anger back up at him as he tore off her under-cloth, baring her perfectly round asscheeks to him. Her entire body thrashed despite being pinned to the bed, giving him the lovely view of her undulating naked back and brief glimpses of the pink fresh looking meat of her virginal pussy. But it was the feel of that solid column of hot male flesh against her vulnerable flesh that replaced her anger with terror. He was huge. Without being able to see him, he felt as fat as a Corinthian column being rubbed against her. There was no way he would fit in her. He would kill her. Would tear her apart, and she would bleed to death on his cock. In some dark perverse way, she felt more devastatingly feminine now than she had her entire life. Naked and achingly vulnerable underneath hard, cruel male flesh, she felt soft and womanly in the worst possible way. No, please! Gods, she hated herself for begging. But she could not help it. Panic was overwhelming her, roaring in her ears, threatening to steal the very breath from her lungs. Please, have mercy! Her voice choked with a guttural sob that tore out of her bruised lips. Please, I beg you, do not do this to me!