Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

The Runaway Bride

N

Nurse_K

Pulsar
Joined
Jan 9, 2009
Emma was a young woman of nineteen. She'd been born and raised on the east coast, working with her father on his farm. She'd always been more of a tomboy than anything else, she didn't mind getting dirty. She had long dark hair that was wavy and honey brown eyes that sparkled in the sunlight. She had planned on finding a man to love after her father had passed away, but her father had different plans.

He decided to give her away to a man who had helped him out. This had infuriated Emma. She couldn't just be given away like that, she was a woman not a cow. So she ran on the day of the wedding. She packed up what little was hers and hopped a wagon going to Oregon. She hid in the cargo wagon until it reached a middle of nowhere town. She figured she was far enough away that she'd never been found by her supposed-to-be husband.

She didn't have a glamorous life. She had tried to find work as a seamstress, a worker, anything, but no one wanted a woman to do real work. So she had to dance at a saloon. The owner'd been trying to make her work at the brothel too, but she'd managed to keep her purity despite having to dance. She was there wearing a tight red and black gown, the corset pushing her breasts up more than they probably should be. There was a long slit in the dress, exposing a thigh-high stocking. The men were particularly rowdy that day, they kept trying to grab at her as she danced on the piano.
 
John rode into town after nightfall. He had gone many miles to find Emma, and spent almost all of his savings. He heard rumors that she was in the next town over, and planned on rising with the sun, as he tied up his brown horse and strode into the only building that looked somewhat inviting. The saloon.

As he walked in, no one seemed to notice him. He kept his hat down a bit to help cover his green eyes, and he had purchased a large dusty trench coat to help him deal with this weather. He sat at the bar and made a motion for a drink. The bartender nodded and John took a look around the room, noticing the main attraction for the night was an extremely attractive young woman.

He tilted his hat up a bit to get a better look, moving his black hair out of his face, he couldn't believe what he saw...

It was Emma. The woman he was promised... dancing for every man in the damn saloon.

As the bartender brought John's drink, he stopped him and said, "I'm here to see the dancing girl."

The older man laughed, "As is everyone else!"

John sighed softly, "I need you to arrange a meeting for me with her. I will pay"

The bartenders eyes flashed greedily, "She doesn't normally do *those* types of visits... but I can tell you which room upstairs is hers... and I can even leave the door unlocked for the right price..."
 
Emma skillfully dodged grabs and sneaks, she never allowed any of the men to touch her. She'd almost gotten raped once by a drunken patron, but thankfully he'd fallen over and hit his head before he could really get anywhere. She danced for a while longer, eyeing the bartender every now and then. She could only stop when he told her she could, she had to have made enough money for the night before he would let her.

Finally he gave her the signal and the music stopped. She did one final flourish, lifting her skirt scandalously high without actually showing much. "There there, boys. I'm done for the night!" she cooed as she hopped down from the piano. She slithered away, shaking her head at the men who were offering money and trying to get her hands.

She laughed amiably, making sure to always look happy. Patrons didn't like moody dancers. She went passed the bar and all the men sitting at it, not even noticing the man who was supposed to be her husband. She'd only met him a few times and by now, had almost completely forgotten what he looked like.

"I'm heading up," she called to the bartender, who just gave her an apathetic nod. She went up the stairs to her room and fell on the bed, heaving a huge sigh. She was exhausted. After a couple of seconds she sat up and began to undress herself, preparing for bed.
 
John finished his drink before paying the bartender, and adding an extremely generous tip to his tab. The bartender grinned and nodded to John, "You'll find her upstairs, third room on the right." He turned and pulled something out of a small drawer, "Here's the key. I gotta say, I believe your story. You can have her."

John smiled and thanked the bartender with a nod of his head, before moving up the stairs slowly. He slipped the key into the hole silently, and turning it slowly it clicked faintly. The door creaked open, and he stepped inside.
 
Emma turned around in surprise when she heard the door unlock and open. "Hey, what --?" she started, reaching for her robe and beginning to wrap it around herself. Then she saw the man who stepped in. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. For a moment, she was speechless.

"Oh my God," she managed, stumbling backwards. She hit the bed and then stumbled to the side, working her way to the back of her tiny room. "John. What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice full of fear and anger.
 
His brow was furrowed in anger as he took off his hat and placed it on a small wooden end table. His black hair was longer than normal, due to his trip. He turned slowly, listening to her voice crack in surprise and closed the door behind him, locking it.

Turning back to her, he held his arms out, "Emma... " he paused, looking her over once again, "Emma... I'm here to rescue you from this... place" He smiled gently, taking a step toward her, "Lets go back home, and we can get married... and forget this ever happened."
 
Her eyes widened more and she shook her head slowly. She tied her robe tightly, wrapping her arms around herself as well. She'd reached the back wall of her tiny room. There was a window there. If he came closer to her, she'd open it and climb out it. It was a bit of a drop, but she didn't care. She'd rather die like that than have to go back with him.

"No, John. I don't need rescuing." she was gathering confidence the more she spoke, her anger taking over her fear of him. "I don't want to marry you. This is my home."
 
His teeth clenched when he heard her response, "So... instead of doing as your father wished... and marrying me you whore yourself out?" He lunged for her, grabbing her arm tightly, "You'd rather live the life of a whore than be married to me?!" His voice went from calm and collected to fierce, it was much like a roar.

He threw her down to the center of the room, his voice in a low growl now, "I just wish you would have made this easier on everyone..."
 
"No!" she screeched when he said that she whored herself out. She shrieked again when he grabbed her arm, trying to tug it away from him. She stumbled and then fell when he pushed her, her butt hitting the floor hard. "No, no no no no!" she kept repeating, shaking her head vigorously.

"I don't whore myself out! I never have!" she kicked against the floor to move herself backwards, trying now to get towards the door. "I'm still pure!" it was like she was begging him for forgiveness, though she hated him.
 
He shook his head slowly, "Now... I'm going to take what is rightfully mine. What should have been mine eight months ago!" He moved toward her again, pulling a length of rope out from his trench coat. He used his free hand to pull one of her legs, sliding her back towards him across the floor.

"Now, Emma... listen to me... and listen to me good. Your family has been worried about you. Worried sick. and this situation isn't going to help." He began tying her arms with the rope, despite her struggles, "So... you should stop struggling... it'll be easier for everyone that way."
 
"No! No!" she screamed, trying to kick him when he pulled her toward him. "Let me go, let me go!" she flipped herself over on her stomach and tried to drag herself away from him. She clawed at the floor, her leg still kicking out behind her because he held it. "I don't belong to you! I'm not a piece of property, let me go!"

Tears welled up in her eyes and she shook her head wildly. She broke out into a sob and grabbed onto the leg of the bed, putting all of her strength into pulling herself towards it. "I don't want you! I hate you! You're never going to get me to want you."
 
He reached down pulling off her robe, and fondling her now exposed breast with his free hand, "Oh.. but you are only mine now you filthy whore. No more men ogling you, sleeping with you, or you servicing them. You will love only me."

He took the rope, and wrapped it around one of her wrists, pulling tightly.
 
"No, no, no, no, no!" she sobs, still shaking her head in protest. She jumps when he pulls her robe off of her, drawing her legs up close to hide her exposed self. She was still wearing her dancing hose and her bloomers, but her chest, stomach, and back were completely exposed.

She was wrenched toward him when he tied the rope to her wrist. For the first time since he'd pushed her onto the floor she looked up at him. "Please, stop." she begged him, "Stop doing this. This is wrong."
 
He pulled his hand back and gave her a swift backhanded strike as she looked up at him, "NO! Don't you tell me what is 'wrong'! YOU are the one who ran away, and left EVERYTHING! Do you realize how long I traveled to find you?! to bring you back to those who truly love you!?"

He pulled the rope, making her arm twist behind her back, and grabbed her other hand, pulling her other arm behind her back, "Don't you dare lecture me on what is right."
 
Her neck twisted sharply when he hit her, a loud shriek of pain escaping her. She sobbed, her face staying turned for a moment as she felt the large red welt raising on her face. She turned her face back slowly, still looking down at the floor. She whimpered weakly when he twisted her arm behind her, the pain almost overwhelming.

"I-I-I'm sorry." she stammered pathetically. She was giving in a little already, she'd never been hit like that before. There was no one to help her here, she had no friends here. They had all wanted sex from her and she wouldn't give it to them. She knew that no one would stop him from taking her.
 
"Good" He said firmly and flatly, bringing her wrists together and tying them, before lifting her arms above her head and tying her now bound wrists to the bed, "Are you coming to your senses now Emma?" He pulled off the rest of her clothing, slowly, before tossing them aside. Her wrists were now bound to the bed post in case she tried to run, but he left enough slack in the rope to allow her to lay down on the bed, and stand up and walk around the bed should she need to.

He slid off the bed, taking his trench coat off and laying it on a nearby chair, revealing a holster with two revolvers.
 
She whimpered only a little when he pulled her up and then tied her to the bed. Her cheeks flushed in shame when he removed her bloomers and hose, she was naked in front of a man for the first time. She sat on the bed awkwardly, drawing her legs up to herself again in another attempt to hide from him. She nodded weakly, "Yes," she said, knowing that now was not the time to make him even angrier. Her face was already going to be bruised from the first hit.

She glanced over at him when he took his coat off, her eyes growing wide with fear when she saw the guns. She swallowed nervously, suddenly thinking that he might try to kill her.
 
He removed the holster, glancing over and smiling a little at her, because he saw the fear in her eyes, "Don't worry my dear. I'm your husband, I won't kill you" He laughed softly to himself, as he pulled off his shirt, revealing his tanned, toned body. He walked over to the bed slowly, his eyes glancing over every part of her, "Mmmm..." He pulled off his boots, dropping them to the floor, "Well... I didn't picture our first night together like this... but I suppose I will take what I can get." He leaned over her, placing a hand on her breast, and grabbing it firmly.
 
She hadn't imagined her night to be like this, either. She certainly hadn't imagined it being with him. She whimpered again when he grabbed her breast again, doing her best not to start crying again. "Please be nice to me," she asked him softly, raising her eyes to his again tentatively. The last time she had done that he had struck her, but she was sincerely hoping he wouldn't hit her again. Her leg muscles were tensed, hiding her maidenhood from him. She wouldn't willingly spread herself for him, he'd have to make her.
 
He grinned at her gently as she looked back at him, slowly moving a hand to stroke her cheek, "Come now Emma... relax." He said as his other hand moved down to his crotch, rubbing gently, "You might've been with other men before your husband... but you are about to see why everyone called me 'big john'"

He winked at her gently as a small bulge appeared in his pants.
 
"I haven't, John." she murmured quietly, the fear still evident in her voice. She cringed when he stroked her cheek, his touch virtually horrified her. She still couldn't believe that he was here, that he'd come all the way across the country to find her and was now going to rape her. She'd thought she'd escaped him for good...but it seemed that her initial escape was going to make the rest of her life a lot worse than it would have been.

Her eyes glanced down to the bulge in his pants. They widened a little and she swallowed nervously. If he was big, was he going to hurt her with it?
 
He motioned her over with his free hand, "C'mere Emma... " He pulled his pants down to reveal his large semi-erect member, "How about you kneel down at the foot of the bed there, and show me what you've learned from your time as a dancer."

He took a step back, giving her room to slide off the bed and kneel down before him.
 
Her eyes widened even more when she saw how large his member was without even being fully erect. She shook her head slowly, not wanting to touch him like that. While Emma'd been able to escape sleeping with other men, she'd been forced to service the owners of the saloon when she first arrived. She had to do it twice a month each month afterward to be saved from having to prostitute herself.

She whimpered and cringed when he moved away, everything in her body telling her not to move. But she began to move anyway, he'd given her just enough slack with the rope for her to be able to kneel in front of the bed. "I don't want to," she protested weakly once she was on her knees, knowing he was going to make her do it anyway.
 
He grimaced as he heard those words escape her lips, "You don't want to?" He placed a hand on the back of her head, pulling her hair back and her head down, her face looking up at him, "Listen... you filthy whore... you either do this on your own, or I'm going to force it down your throat."

He let her hair go, and lifted his cock up with his hand. Looking down at her, one of his eyebrows raised and a smile slide across his lips again, "Your choice my dear Emma..."
 
She whimpered again when he pulled her her hair and forced her head to turn. She really didn't have a choice. She despised this man, he was horrible. She couldn't believe that she had to be married to him for the rest of her life. She gulped again and then nodded weakly, opening her mouth.

She leaned forward and took the head into her mouth, her lips wrapping around it. His girth was so much that he stretched her lips just with that, she couldn't imagine how it would be if he forced it in. She pushed her head down a little further, feeling him fill her mouth as she began to suck.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom