Thread: An Interesting Arrangement (Sølvi and E404UserNotFound)

Her mother seemed agitated. Out of sorts. Catalina was careful to begin with, but worry soon made way for apprehension, especially when her mother rose and approached the window. The way she moved, the way she made those sounds , the way she acted. Something was not right, something terrible was about to happen. If the oppressive heat wasnt enough to make Catalinas body break out in a sweat, the fear was. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down the smooth expanse of her throat, rolling down her collar bone, before disappearing in her night gown. Meekly she sat down, and regarded her mother in silence, those bright eyes brimming with uncertainty. In those eyes, it was clear just how young Catalina was. How inexperienced and unlearned. All of that was about to change, as her mother pushed the letter into her hands. A worry creased her brow once more as she took the letter between her fingers and carefully turned it around. Her thumb softly brushed against the broken wax seal, and before she could recognize it, her eyes snapped up to her mother again. The King?! They.. concerning her... that could only mean one thing. Hastily she opened the letter, her eyes hungrily dancing across the lines on the paper. Any hope she had on a southern lord evaporated before her eyes as the words became clear to her. Untimely death.. omen of good faith.. danger to the realm.. family.. people.. She didnt understand at first, and reread the letter again, surely she was mistaken. A Northern lord was not the answer. A Northern lord was not right. But the words did not change, and neither did their meaning. One word kept coming back to her. It wasnt the fact that Prince Jasis himself was going to be in the near vicinity of her. It wasnt the insurance of their lands protection. Marriage. Marriage. A Northern Lord. Panic started to invade her veins. The letter dropped from her fingers to the floor. If she hadnt been sitting down, surely she would have fainted. Surely her strength would have left her. She stared at her hands for a moment, and slowly felt her whole life unravelling, second by second. Her mother was going to send her away, she had to, she was forced. She had to marry some vicious Northern Lord and he was going to hurt her if not kill her. She knew the stories, Catalina heard them often, the handmaidens often spoke about brutalized whores turning up dead, men slaughtering their own, no honor, no code. They were no more than brutes. Catalina would not be part of this. She rose to her feet, her small hands balled up into fists at her sides as she looked down at her seated mother. The young Catalina was full of fear and rage, how dare her mother let her go through with this! She couldnt think straight, apprehension grasping her throat and heart in a choke-hold. Her cheeks were flushed red, her eyes narrowed. I refuse. Her voice shook, laced with emotion. She wasnt one to defy her parents, especially her mother, but this was something they couldnt ask of a girl of her age and expect her to understand, no matter how well she was raised. I refuse. I refuse. I refuse. She kept repeating herself, distinctive panic laced her voice. -- Annabel was going to bruise again come morning, she numbly realized. He always made her bruise. Always marked her. She hardly had time to dwell on this, as she was yanked up to her knees. Annabel felt the thrusts get harder and harder, but was thankful that the unrelentless assault on her cervix ceased, feeling the thrusts get just a tiny bit less deep, a tiny bit more shallow. She didnt have much respite, as she suddenly felt the sting at her breast. It caused her to cry out in obvious distress and pain, but no one would ever dare to interrupt them. It hurt it hurt it hurt , but she couldnt plead, he hated it when she pleaded, it didnt matter, it would only make things worse.. She stumbled and fell, her face flat on the fur all of a sudden, her body unable to withstand Raimers assault. The laughter came shortly after, a laughter that haunted her dreams. She lay there, sprawled on the floor where she had been tossed, her legs spread, her cunt moist and shining with his Lords pre-cum and her own slickness. She had stopped bleeding for him years ago, hed made sure of that. He made sure to stretch her walls, to savage her. Her body simply got accustomed to it. Her mind never had. A pathetic little cry left her as he grabbed a fistful of her hair, her legs feebly kicking to get some solid ground underneath her. This too was denied. Instead the sharp musky smell hit her nostrils before she felt her face get pulled in between the Lords legs, the thick, throbbing, wet flesh against her cheek, simultaneously disgusted and aroused. He finally let go of her hair, and she raised herself to a seating position in between his thighs. She knew what was expected of her. But the Lord was not done speaking. Annabel looked up, confusion in her blue eyes. Her.. mother? She blinked owlishly, suddenly forgetting just where she was and who she was dealing with. Her mother? Was she.. Horror struck her. The implications of his words. If he and her mother fucked.. if it was his seed that hit home instead of her fathers.. his.. it was almost unbearable to have her own uncle fuck her, but if it had been her father all along? She felt sick, instantly, threatening to throw up right then and there. It crossed her mind to run away, to pull away. The conflict apparent on her face. And then he reminded her who was in charge again. He reminded her of her place by pouring the wine over her head. She felt it trickle down her hair and neck, furthering her degradation. She was a whore. She had no one as a father. If she denied him, shed wait a fate worse than dead.. even if he was her.. her.. Stop thinking about it. She forced herself to think. And then, not think at all. Yes, mLord.. she mumbled, and then dear Annabel did what was expected of her. She wrapped her lips around the Lords hard cock, and started swallowing him whole. An eagerness shed learn to fake, an enthusiastic tongue shed gotten good at using. She bobbed her head up and down the long shaft, she had learned to surpress her gag reflexes, lest she want to get her teeth smashed in. Her tongue swirled and curled around the head, as her mouth worked on the rest of the Lords member. She thought of performing her task, and only that.