Thread: Odette (Montresor & sweet.nothings)

Rogier lifted a hand, gently rubbing at the scar which ran across his nose and cheek. He listened to the woman. If nothing else he was at least attentive, his amber eyes studying her like a hawk from his far side of the room. The dim glow of lantern light cast a shadow over that marred side of his features. His perched silhouette began to rise from the side of the window, growing in high before his shoes began to pace towards her. As he stepped further into the light, it was easier to catch glimpse of the dark shape in his left hand a bundle of hempen rope with a width only so much bigger than his thumb. But you are... A hand reached up to tenderly brush the woman's cheek as the young Marque stood before his newest property. His fingers cupped her chin as he looked into a pair of soft blue eyes. You've been a slave since the day you plege yourself to the service of the Lord. You sing His praise, you sit on your knees and you follow beckon His love like a dog whimpering for table scraps. The woman stood cornered between her owner in flesh and the door. There was a hunger to the amber in his eyes which was like that of the wolf. As his hand trailed down it followed her throat, chest, and then her arm where Rogier took Odette's hand. His fingers were cold, and perhaps seeking to find some warmth in her body, rubbed between hers. Do not be so insulted. You wear His yoke well with subservience and gratitude. He tugged her gently, pulling brave Odette towards the center of the room. You are His servant, His daughter... His wife. Your chastity belongs to Him. A troublesome smirk touched the corner of his lip as his arms slid about the waist of older woman. She was embraced in ways that she had perhaps only dreampt of in the grasp of another man, and as he leaned in a devilish whisper caressed her ear while his hands played at the buttons lining the back of her habit. Tonight you are going to sin, sweet sister... And when I am done you will have begged for it. The dark dress was torn down with savage force, tearing at seams she had worked so hard to repair, only to have her armor shed from her skin. With it came the white of her shift, ripping silks from her pale form until her naked bosom showed in the glow of the bedroom. All was taken away every inch of protection and modesty save for her coif, which was left perfectly intact. There we are... He hummed as his cold palms brushed over her chest, thumbs playing at the budding pink of her nipples. He smiled over her shame before turning the woman. She faced the bed as he took her wrists and pulled them behind her back. The rope soon found its way around her, wrapping around each hand and over her shoulder. They tethered her arms in place, binding them as the web constrained her torso like a spider spinning his meal in such an elaborate net. A band of black silk was wrapped around her head to blind her eyes. The maiden was left as helpless as a broken and saddled mare at the mercy of her rider, and with every intent to mount that beast he pushed her forward. Her waist met the edge of the bed, bending her over it as her chest met the many cushions with a sudden oof . Did this girl ever get up to mischief when she joined the abbey? Was she punished? How did they discipline girls like you?