Thread: An Interesting Arrangement (Sølvi and E404UserNotFound)

It was ironic, how her mother grabbed her and held her in that safe, comforting embrace, much like when she was a child. For a heartbeat or two, she believed herself to be exactly that, sinking into her mothers arms and closing her eyes briefly, breathing a sigh and praying, hoping, imagining a better time. For the both of them. The hug was broken as fast as it began and young Catalina felt her chin be raised up. Sad, green eyes regarded mother, but they were attentive. She was listening. This was something she could work with, come to a solution, put things into perspective. It was something Catalina needed, and her mother was kind enough to grant to her. Catalina felt her face flush with embarrassment first when her mother began to speak. Of course she knew that her mother did not invite them, and yet it had come out all of a sudden during her outburst, and now.. now young Catalina felt ashamed. When the young girl looked down, her mother pushed her chin back up and she knew that it was important to listen, really listen to what was being said. Her heart ached when her mother spoke of the Southern Lord, and it only furthered and deepened her shame. It seemed absurd that she was being tortured just for her gender, though. It all came back down to her fathers wishes and that he had desired her to have been born a male. For a moment, she wanted to speak. She wanted to say how unfair it was. She wanted to propose that her and her mother could rule. That they didnt need to suffer for their gender. That they could be both lenient and tough, that they could both rule and love. Why did they have to follow the norm? Why couldnt they break free? But Catalina did not voice any of her thoughts. Catalina kept her thoughts to herself as her mother continued to speak. The matriarch both confirmed and solidified her suspicions. An heir. Obedience. It made her feel uncomfortable, even as her mother continued. The consolation she offered of the Northern race made Catalinas face perk up, if only slightly. Maybe.. maybe it wasnt so bad after all. Perhaps she could find happiness in this. Until her mother mentioned the Mistress, and poor Catalinas face fell. In all her wisdom and proper etiquette, her teachings and lessons and training, she had never believed her father to have had a Mistress. Such a terribly naive girl. Her eyes implored her mother even as she was interrupted, she had to know, stop trying to make him have a, have a what! Her eyes snapped to the younger girl and she nearly, quite nearly insulting the girl where she stood. But Catalina kept her lips sealed as she saw just how young the child was. She didnt know any better.. and Catalina should start acting like a lady, after all. But perhaps she forgot her place again, as she placed her hand upon her mothers wrist. Mother.. Perfect white teeth sunk into her lip for but an instant, her brows furrowed in a frown once more. Did she dare to ask? Did she want to find out the answer? The answer was yes. What do you mean, I must not stop trying to make him.. have? She didnt understand. What could be worse than marrying someone who she did not want to marry? What could be worse than having a husband, who had to fuck with other women? What could be worse for a Southern lady to marry a Northern Lord? Catalina had a right to know. --------------- Annabel thought it was over, at least for a couple of hours. Why were they still there, why were they still talking? In her abused and broken mind, all she could feel was the incessant need to flee. But she wouldnt. She never would. Please, they must know that she behaved, that she would obey, that she was a good girl. The lack of oxygen, water and food was making her near hallucinate.. but she was awake enough to see the man approach, and the words.. it didnt make sense. Food? Water? She remained eerily still as she heard both men speak, her wide eyes flickering from one to the other. She didnt even react when the elders boot hit her side gingerly. And then Raimer approached again, and it was as if an angel blessed her. The grip at her hair did nothing to diminish the glee that throbbed in her chest, stumbling to her knees quickly, utterly compliant. When the grip left her hair, she still remained on her knees, shaking slightly, but otherwise completely joyous. She did remember her place though, and she lowered her head in a deep bow, giving Yes mLord. Of course Sir. Yes mLord. as shed been trained to do. Relief held her body in a tight embrace as Raimer left the tent, feeling as if she could breathe for the first time in hours. And then Veksted lingered, and Annabel raised her head to look at him, apprehensively, curiously, doubtfully. The soft smile startled her, and the words that followed made her suspecious. He had saved her. He was her guardian angel. Why would he show her such kindness? What did she do to deserve... and then Veksted was gone, and for a few agonizing moments, Annabel sat there, clumsily. Her cunt ached and weeped with the Lords cum, her body sore and her face tender. Eventually she raised herself to her feet, wincing as she moved, knowing fully well she would hardly be able to walk in the morning. As she grabbed her clothes, a gray dress that marked a woman of her profession, more rags than clothes, her mind wandered.. She was so happy when he had first called her to him. A young girl, full of hope. She foolishly thought he would marry her off to some Lord, that someone finally recognized she was not just some common whore, that she belonged to do greater things. On the eve of her fifteenth birthday, no less! He had summoned her in his tent, and shed complied happily, wearing the prettiest dress she owned. Annabel was given a cup of wine, the first one shed ever gotten, and shed loved the way the red wine hit her lips and her tongue and her throat. She was happy then. Thats the last time she remembered being happy. It all changed so quickly.. Lord Raimers strength was.. unparalleled. She shook her head quickly as if to shake off the thought. She needed food. She needed liquid. If Raimer would come back.. when Raimer would come back, she had to be ready. Usually, after the battle, he was even more aggressive, even hornier.. Annabel scampered outside the tent, and begged for scraps of food and wine. She would degrade herself to just about anything. Raimer had given her a command. Before long, she returned to his tent and undressed instantly, moving to sit on the furs. She would wait there until Raimer returned. She would have to prepare, mentally, physically. The chaos ensued a few hours later was nothing she had prepared for. A small yelp sounded for her as she scampered off into the corner of the tent instantly, giving the men the space, trying to make herself invisible. Raimer was hurt.. Raimer was hurt! Maybe he would die.. No, no, no, dont think like that, dont let those thoughts get to you, dont hope . ------------------ Oh yeah, but its gonna leave one helluva nasty scar. It was said with a voice that was both mocking and near gleeful, a grin that could only be interpreted as vicious. His little comment elicited the right response from the other two nights and the oh so serious uncle. He knew exactly what they were thinking, why was he here, why was he allowed so close to his Lord Highness Raimer. So easy to manipulate. So easy to control. He flashed a grin to the only Knight that had not given him a glare, his dearest brother, who simply rolled his eyes at him. Raimer would survive this time, unfortunately. Although it would probably do nothing to improve his mood. The two Knights and the uncle really did not appreciate the Vortigern Brothers. They were ruthless and vicious, operated on no agenda other than their own and were closer to turncloaks and sellswords than actual Knights. But dear ol Raimer had taken a liking to them. When stuff needed to get done, the Vortigern Brothers were almost exclusively presents. Tobias was the silent one. Always keeping his distance. Always in the darkness. His perfect older brother. While he was kind on the outside, he knew the true nature of his brother, and he was no better than him. Viktor was Tobias counterpart. Loud. Boisterous. He had no moral standard. No mission was too obscene, no kill too risky. He murdered and raped women, men and children alike. If he ever caught someone who interested him, torture was added to the tally. No, the Vortigern Brothers were two twisted individuals, and perfect for Lord Raimers army. And now here they were, the bloody bastard had gotten himself impaled by some fucking spear of some sort. Not that it mattered. His Lordship would live, Tobias would see to that. And as if on cue, the man pushed himself through the other Knights and uncle, like some kind of slippery eel, and murmured an order. When Tobias spoke, people would do well to listen to him. His voice held a tone that offered no dispute, and he didnt even have to raise his voice for it. Needle. Fire. Thread. Tobias murmured out as he started polishing one of the many daggers in his arsenal. This was going to be beautiful. The Brothers looks were traditionally Northern, a blonde hair so pale it was nearly white, blue eyes that were nearly ashen. Where Tobias was lithe, Viktor was all muscle. Where Tobias could stealth and sneak, Viktor would rather throw himself in the heat of the battle, swinging at full force. The sound of skulls cracking was his personal favorite. Viktor openly enjoyed and endorsed torture, and he wholeheartedly approved of Raimers treatment to whores, especially to the one cowering in the corner of the tent. He would love to cut her open.. riddle her little body with thousands of little scars to dig his fingers in as he fucked her. But she was off limits. Wench. Viktor dragged his eyes back to Raimer, grinning that horrific grin down at him. Tobias got the supplies he wanted, the other Knights meekly following his command. Weaklings. The blade was held over the open fire. The fire danced in their eyes, the devils tinder reflecting in the Brothers eyes just a bit more than the others, as if their soul was feeding on it. Feeding on the heat. Feeding on Raimers.. predicament. A bark of a laugh left Viktor as he licked his lips, his voice deep and laced with the type of joy only he could feel in this situation. This is going to hurt like a fucking bitch. Enjoy it. Almost instantly, Tobias thrust the heated blade against Raimers open wound, a manic glint in his eyes. The smell of scorched flesh filled the air, and one of the Knights had to run outside to empty out his stomach contents into the wet grass. Raimers flesh hissed and squealed underneath the hot blade, and if anyone would chance to look upon Viktors face, theyd know he was watching the flesh, watching it crawl, watching it sizzle and pop, watching the smoke drift from it so deliciously . Young Annabel saw. Young Annabel was horrified. The blade was removed all too soon, and Tobias began to work on sewing the Lord up again. It wasnt as if they particularly minded if the Lord would die. In fact, they couldnt care less. But, they both had a goal. A purpose. Raimer would die in the future, as all men would, but the Vortigern Brothers needed him alive just a bit longer. And so Tobias sewed the wound shut, scorching the flesh when needed, throwing alcohol on it when necessary. It was a lovely little process, and over far too quickly for Viktors liking. Soon, Tobias was done with Raimer, his hands bright red from the blood that had flowed freely only heartbeats ago. Raimers uncle and the one other remaining Knight interrupted again to take further care of Raimer, and Tobias and Viktor stepped aside. Tobias arched his head to look at Annabel and, whilst the others were occupied, smiled a horrible little smile to the young girl. She flinched, and watched in horror as he raised one of the bloodied fingers to his mouth and darted his tongue out. Tobias dragged his tongue across the blood soaked index finger, keeping eye contact with the young girl at all times. She was compelled, horrified, and simply couldnt look away. The grin the Vortigern Brothers shared was flashed to her, both of them. If they could simultaneously fuck the girl, they would have done so a hundred times over. But she was Raimers property.. Those dreadful, twisted ashen eyes roamed over the shaking girls body, hungrily, and the Brothers knew they had to leave the tent before their impulses would take over. Tobias simply walked off, but Viktor.. Viktor made a deep, mocking bow to Raimer, rumbled a Enjoy the rest of your evening, mLord, and took his leave. Filth, all of them.