Bought and Paid For

[RoryN]

It was rainy out, everything defined by the moisture that saturated the air. The carriage was jostled as the wheels trundled through the puddles in the cobblestone road. Richard Graninger, a respectable man in his early thirties, dark eyes, brown hair cut short but with his bangs swept back under his hat, and his lips and chin framed by well-groomed and trimmed facial hair. And with him in the carriage, sitting on the cushioned seat beside him, was his lovely new bride.

Tonight was the first night he was taking her home since their wedding just a few days before. Her parents had been thrilled that he'd taken an interest in their daughter and it hadn't taken much convincing for Richard to make the arrangements with them. Now, she was his. A woman to show off to his peers, who would bear him sons and who would tend to his every need. His every intimate desire.

Glancing out the small window as the carriage stopped in front of a tall, black iron gate, he smiled as he looked up at the large house, all red brick and elaborate bay windows, dark pointed roofs stark and sharp against the skyline. On either side of the gate that surrounded his property, other houses of similar size and shape were situated, but none could match the sight of his. He wasn't the richest man in this city, but he was certainly the wealthiest on this street. Opening the door, he smoothly stepped out of the carriage down the small metal step and onto the walkway before the house. An attendant was there with an umbrella and opened it, holding it above the door while Richard waited at the gate.

"Welcome home, my dear," he said in a smooth, deep voice, offering her a charming smile.

 

[Silver Lining]

Abigail Hayward was the apple of her parents' eye. She was now crippled with the insurmountable weight of being the wife of a very rich, prestigious man. In turn, she was giving her own family the lineage they had always sought after, the financial support that would leave them comforted, and the confidence in knowing that their daughter was now in good hands. However, Abigail had been quite hesitant to agree upon this oath in having her hand taken in marriage, yet, no matter what she felt, her word counted not towards such. She was forced into a commitment, and scared by her own musings, she knew that this man would break her, literally. Something about him irked her, to the point where her heart was beating fretfully within her chest, threatening to escape the restraint of her ribcage. She needed to come to terms with the fact that this was now her life.

She was a vision of pure beauty. From those rich, bright ringlets of auburn that decorated her head, to the flawless expanse of pure, porcelain flesh. Her eyes were akin to the hue of a deep, foamy green, and her body was least to say, perfection in a very lithe, petite package. She was decorated in lace, silk and ribbons, looking every bit the part of Richard Graninger's newly acquired gem. Abigail had yet to figure out the reasoning in him taking an interest in her. It was most peculiar, yet, she was strangely flattered. He had yet to treat her indifferently, and dare she admit that she had been enjoying his company thus far. However, she knew nothing of him, except for the basic knowledge that he was quite the catch. Still, for someone of his standing to find her, a commoner, to be a suitable candidate for a partner? It seemed too good to be true...

They had finally arrived, and her eyes widened in awe. Goodness, this was a very large house. In fact, she was certain it was the size equivalent of ten of her own homes, put together. This lavish lifestyle was going to take a while for her to grow used to, yet she was more than willing. After all, she had always been quite the elegant, refined woman. Her mannerisms were superb, as was the urge to please those around her, ever loyal. Perhaps that was a reason why Richard had chosen her? Either way, she fell victim to his charming smile and quickly returned the sentiment, stepping out of the carriage delicately whilst she looked around, feeling a few droplets of rain scatter across the plush, perked skin of her bosom. "It's beautiful," she whispered, her breath escaping her. She was at his side, and when those emerald irises fell upon him, she shuddered in excitement.

Something told her that her evening would be less than boring...

 

[RoryN]

He couldn't be more pleased with her whispered declaration if he tried. The way those green eyes widened and took in the grand mass of his towering castle and her body trembled slightly as she looked upon him as the Lord of this domain, made him feel envigorated. Was she intimidated or merely impressed? Either way, it was a victory in his eyes.

Richard said nothing as he linked arms with her and entered through the gate and crossed the threshold of the double-doors with her. The space inside was wall-to-wall dark wood and intricate moldings, even in the open space of the entry hall everything seemed close and compact. Two doorways were situated at right and left and a slender, angled staircase pressed against the left wall with the entry hall leading further into the back of the house. After handing off his hat and overcoat to a waiting attendant, he took her arm again and escorted her through the building, pointing out the different rooms even as they passed through a few of them, familiarizing his pet with her new habitat.

And there weren't many rules for her; the most he expected of her was to keep the household staff in line and to organize the work - which he told her so. Other than that, he didn't care much about what she did so long as she was available when he wanted her. Escorting her into the parlor, the dark wood of the hallways mostly disappeared, the walls covered in intricate fluer de lys wallpaper and the lush carpet continuing the detailed themes of the paneling. The room was cozy, even as large as it was with small tables and chairs set about, their legs curved and shining and their seats cushioned. And upon practically every flat surface was a statuette or decorative dining wear, shining glass and sparkling silver, and paintings cluttered the walls.

Smoothly, he disengaged himself from her and proceeded towards a large wing chair, the back of it dwarfing the seat as it rose above in a curved and cushioned heart shape. It too was patterned like the walls but the fabric tricked the eye, making the design fade in some places and shine in others. Putting his hands upon the back of it, he faced her and gestured towards the window. "The window looks out to the garden in the courtyard and this chair is placed just so that the view could be seen when seated here and you'd also benefit from the lighting. A perfect place for you to do your sewing and watch after our children as they play." He was very pleased by this concept and knew she would be too.

Walking languidly towards the nearby wall where a piano sat, he fiddled with the keys rhythmically before glancing at her once more. "Do you sing?" he asked. Graninger wouldn't require her to sing, but it would still be nice if she could. "If you read also, there is a library upstairs." Not that he was encouraging that, really, but more just trying to make her feel comfortable.

 

[Silver Lining]

She felt as if she were in a movie of sorts. She had yet to imagine such a place to exist, and to realize that she would be living here...the very place where she was to raise her children, and grow old with her husband, it was remarkable. Abigail's expression of unadulterated enamor quickly gave away the fact that these luxuries were few and far between for her, up until now. Perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as she had assumed...as this man, now her husband, had yet to give her a reason to think ill of him. Yes, it was horribly suspicious that he saw fit to pick such a lowly peasant as herself, yet perhaps he saw something within her, that no one else had.

It was not her place to question his motives, and now vowed to him as if she were a possession, she was solely his.

Dainty fingers curled, and she felt the muscles of his arm begin to tense beneath her touch. She was transfixed on the way he seemed so much larger than herself, and something deep inside within her little, naive gut, told her that she needed to be careful. That, although he was charming, seemingly caring and opened to make her comfortable within her new environment, that there was far more than what met the eye at first glance. She was certain he would be considerably busy with his own business affairs throughout the majority of the days and to hear that she was given a place to sit, whilst reading, sewing...or doing anything else her heart so desired, it was enlightening. Surely, she hoped he knew how appreciative she was of all of this, as his attempt in giving her a space of her own, was heart warming. So...her husband might not be as bad as she thought.

She smiled towards him, a tip of her head given before she lightly replied, her cheeks now flushed with a natural tinge of crimson. "I've sung before...yet...I'm not sure how good I truly am," she explained, lifting her hand to gently coax away a few curled ringlets from her face, looking every bit the part of a shy, timid young lamb caught in a voracious lion's den. "Would you...ever want me to sing for you," she questioned, more than willing to.

 

[RoryN]

That innocent, meek look she gave him got Richard's heart pumping and warmed his blood. So, beautiful, virginal and untainted. And perfectly ripe for molding. The key of course was her previous status and the life she was used to. Graninger was fully willing to admit that his sexual appetites weren't the most wholesome or considered the norm, but so far had yet to find women of an acceptable nature to become his life-mate. There were of course the scummy harlots and the sluts on the outskirts of his social group, who would do anything he desired and not say a word. But none of them were suitable for a presentable wife.

However, courting young upper-class women proved to be just as misguided. It was expected that all genteel and proper women would be prudish and skittish on the subject of sensuality. But women in his own standing were completely frigid, walking around like living corpses, 2-dimensional and flat. With how important their propriety was to them, getting through that thick varnish was a next to impossible prospect. There was nothing underneath it worth his time or effort to manipulate.

Abigail was different. At least, he hoped. There was a vibrancy and unbridled potential within her, layers beneath waiting to be uncovered and brought to light. And being a commoner, she'd have less concern and less knowledge about acceptable conduct and decorum in the bedroom. Whatever he told her to do she had more reason to obey rather than go back to where she was before, and shaming her family. She would listen and she would fear him...and he would wake her up.

Smiling easily he unbuttoned his jacket and brushed the back neatly out of the way as he sat upon the bench in front of the piano. "I am very fond of women's voices in song and it would please me greatly to hear you, my dear. How about a few notes now? Just to give me a taste of what you can do. But I'll have to ask that any ribald or off-color songs you've learned not be sung in public." He made a show of being serious before smirking jokingly at her. "A private performance for me would be alright though."

He winked playfully at her before turning to the piano and letting his fingers travel up and down the keys, a melodic collection of sounds flowing from the wooden casing. Nothing too complex or overpowering; just a simple demonstration was all he was asking.

 

[Silver Lining]

The poor dear was blissfully oblivious to his underlying intentions, and if she had any inclination as to what he did plan for her, perhaps Abigail would have been furthered in her hesitance to marry him. She had yet to feel the touch of a man, the sensation of lips upon her own...and surely, no one had yet to lay eyes upon her bare, prone form. She was unscathed, flawless, and clean of any impurities. Though she was ignorant to all carnal desires of the flesh, her curiosity would certainly be piqued if given the right partner. Surely, he would be able to awaken within her a sultry, voluptuously insatiable vixen that would happily bend to his every beck and call, to give him what he so yearned for as she relished in the attention all the while. Time would only tell, however, and yet without much hint as to how she would act, Richard was in for a treat.

Her smile grew, and she made her way over towards the piano, where her husband sat. She watched him, in awe of the fact that she knew very little about him. Was their marriage to be a happy, fulfilled one? Ever since she had been a child, she had hoped to live a fairy-tale of a dream...yet the likelihood of such happening ran dangerously thin. Still, Abigail refused to let her hopes diminish, and would rather give him a chance, rather than believe she was already doomed from the start. After all, she did enjoy the way he smirked towards her in that joking manner...and his appearance, he was horribly attractive.

A clearing of her throat then, and she began. Her voice was just as she was, a soft, delicate tenor that lightly carried through the air. Strong, yet yielding as to not overpower the beautiful notes of the keys, she let her lashes grace the tops of her cheeks, singing a simple ballad that spoke brightly of a warm, summer day. Her mother had often lulled her to sleep with the lyrical piece when she had been a babe, and now, figuring she was soon to be with child, Abigail was happy to practice. Hands, wrapped in elegant lace gloves, remained folded before her, pressed warmly betwixt the plump mounds of her cleavage. A content roll of her tongue and she finally stopped, holding her note before it gracefully flitted off into the air, dying down. Least to say, she had a gorgeous voice through and through, and yet, she was far too humbled to admit such. "Well," she asked, lifting her brows in question, "Was I...alright?" She hoped her husband would approve, as it would certainly make her feel happy, knowing she was able to please this man with a simple song.

 

[RoryN]

As he played for her, Richard listened close and watched her, his dark eyes held rapt to her face as beautiful words fluttered out as if on butterfly wings. She was certainly no opera Diva, but the gentleness in her tone and the grace with which she held herself while singing, captivated him and drew him in. And he experienced another victory, realizing that his attempts to relax her and bring her comfort had worked; there was no nervous waver or stress in her voice and her body language was less guarded than it had been on the ride here.

When she finished, he played just a few notes more, ending the song fully and turned to her to see the bright and expectant look in her eyes. That was different. And the feelings he got from it caused a rush of power to sweep through him. His approval was what she wanted. HIS approval. Even with other women he'd courted, there had been nothing like the quiet acceptance of his authority that he was getting from his wife. Standing slowly and staring at her, a dashing smile eventually made it's way onto his lips as he seemed to come awake.

"'Alright' is a severe understatement. You sing beautifully, Abigail. Like an angel."

After standing, he silently drew closer to her, barely a space separating them as he looked down upon her fragile features, a certain depth and hunger hinted within his gaze. For a moment longer he watched her before moving a finger under her chin to hold her steady, bending his head to lock lips with hers. At first he merely enjoyed an innocent kiss with her, their closed lips pressing and undulating against each other. Gentle, quiet, like a hunter coaxing a deer from the underbrush.

Richard's other hand slid smoothly along her side and waist to her back, his hand putting the slightest pressure on the small of her back to sandwich her between the appendage and his hard, muscled form. And his tongue softly probed at her lips, teasing, and pried them apart before delving inside to stroke her tongue.

 

[Silver Lining]

She couldn't suppress her soft laugh, her vision tipping down and her cheeks flaring up into a far more vibrant flush. "You're exaggerating, aren't you," she replied, yet before he was able to answer her, it seemed as if his attention was elsewhere. She could feel his eyes upon her, practically burning holes within her flesh, and thus forcing her to gaze towards him in wonder. She watched him with bated breath, the inkling of him planning something itching at the back of her mind. What...he was getting closer, and she panicked, those glistening emeralds searching his face for any sign of what he was about to attempt.

Yet, as he drew her chin up, it became all too clear.

Abigail's lips parted whilst a soft, barely heard whimper rumbled up throughout her delicate throat. He was going to kiss her, and certainly the flickering of hunger in his gaze did little to settle her nerves. The young woman tensed up the moment his lips found her own, capturing her mouth until she yielded to his command, feeling her knees begin to weaken whilst the petals of their mouths slowly curved and brushed across one another. It was a very strange, newfound sensation, yet one that she was not opposed to. Despite the fact that it had her stomach tensing up tenfold and making her nerves begin to sizzle beneath the onslaught of fevered passion, she stood where she was, scared to move. He felt so powerful against her wavering frame, and with his palm pressing into the small of her back, ordering for her to stumble closer, Abigail was in no position to pull away.

A poignant taste, rich and musky, coated her taste-buds whilst his tongue trampled among the plains of her mouth, saliva slowly mixing in a sensual dance. Her eyes had long since closed, long lashes drawing to a dramatic fold atop of her cheeks. Throughout his curious, domineering exploration of her oral cavity, she whined and moaned, feeling the impenetrable sense of arousal quickly course through her prior to pinpointing her core. Thighs shook, control vanished and she had no choice but to reach up and grip upon the expanse of his broad shoulders, clutching tight. This man...he was quickly bending her will with a simple kiss...

 

[RoryN]

She tensed dramatically in his hold and for a few breaths of a second he thought maybe he'd jumped the gun and startled his precious, doe-like wife. But with just a few broad strokes of his tongue, she was responding to him, her slender form trembling against him and soft, pleasant sounds erupting from her throat. Both of his hands found her back, palms cradling her delicate shoulder blades through her dress and fingers searching and digging into cloth desperately. He almost lost himself completely, the kiss grown feral and intense, dominating her mouth and abusing her lips with suckling bites. As he became aware of his sudden search for a flat surface upon which to lay her, he came back to himself and gently disengaged her hold from his shoulders, holding her hands as he finally broke the kiss.

Looking down at her, he laughed breathlessly, thoroughly enjoying the result of what had started as merely a "testing of the waters" and what was obviously an unexpected reaction from herself. "Well," he said finally, smiling in an amused fashion. "Shall we finish the tour, my dear? Next are the rooms upstairs - my study, the library, the bedrooms..." Not a very subtle hinting.

Taking her arm once again he led her out of the room and back out to the foyer where they'd begun, mounting the stairs with her hand clasped in his. The upstairs hallway spanned the length of the house much like the front entry hall, with dark wood walls and floors underneath smooth carpeting. Paintings hung on the walls at intervals between the doors and a window sat at the far end of the hallway. Proceeding along, he didn't stop but merely pointed out the rooms as they passed, making his way to two large double doors at the end. Slipping a key from his vest pocket, he unlocked the door with faded mechanical clicks and pushed them open.

Even as large as the room was, an equally large bed dominated the space, along with ornate furnishings and lavish decorations but not nearly so many as had been in the parlor. Richard appreciated the room to breath and it showed. And it was clearly his room, as noted by the large horizontal painting above the bed, depicting seven muscular and savage looking hounds bringing down a stag during a hunt. The wet storm outside tapped its raindrop fingers on the window pane as he stepped into the room, gently pulling the doors shut behind them and letting out a sigh as he removed his jacket and tossed it over the back of a gold-painted chair. What was left was his white, long sleeved and high-collared dress shirt, overlaid with a darkly patterned vest.

Standing before her once more, he gently cradled her neck with his hand and gave her a confident smile. "Are you scared?" Richard asked, his face and eyes all at once neutral as he gauged her reaction to the question. It didn't matter what she said; he was going to do what he wanted to do either way. But it'd help for her to be somewhat willing in the beginning and after he'd dragged her up here for more than obvious reasons, she was probably no longer calm as she had been before.

 

[Silver Lining]

Goodness, he wasn't stopping! Abigail felt her body involuntarily give in to him, feeling her spine arch and thus pushing herself shamelessly into his hold. Her mouth was searing with heat as he all but captured her and tugged her in, refusing to let her go. It was only until he pulled away himself, was she finally able to breathe. Her lungs had been screaming for oxygen, and now startled of being suddenly lightheaded. Her mind swam in a murky, clouded fog of pleasure and as her vision finally came to focus upon his face, she trembled once more. Her lips were swollen, red and bruised, showing the aftermath of his vicious bites and exhausting kiss.

This man...he was not what he said he was...there was something feral about him, dangerous and calculating...as if he'd eat her right up.

Though she was hesitant, he made it considerably difficult to turn completely away from him when he smiled at her in such a manner. It had her growing weak, as if she were smitten like a young girl in grade school. Abigail managed to return the soft curl of of her mouth, and her hand was quickly placed within his. He led her around, once more lavishing her with the surroundings that were now to be called home. Still, she really couldn't believe how fortunate she was. Perhaps she merely needed to grow used to his gluttonous, nearly greedy ways...they were so lustful, as if he was craving to explore her every crevice. To take her, inside and out, twist her into something that would surely sate him to his heart's content. Would she be willing? She wasn't sure herself, but to know where he was leading them...well, that moment was far closer than she would have liked.

His quarters were nothing short of marvelous, and she tried to take in as much as she possibly could. Yet, no matter how stubborn she was, she couldn't pry her gaze away from the bed. It was ominous, laying before her, practically calling her upon it. It was the evening of their marriage...and surely, it was only natural to consummate their vows, yes? Abigail felt sick to her stomach at the thought and when she noted him undressing into a more comfortable upbringing, her fingers clutched at each other. Gods...this was going to be horrible, if she were already this skittish. Her attempt at occupying herself was made easy with the rain, and the looming painting that mimicked a very brutal, animalistic hunt. She grimaced at the depiction, turning away in time to press the soft skin of her neck against his palm. He was so close to her all of a sudden...their breaths mingling slowly...

Scared...was she scared? Abigail searched his face, as he searched hers, knowing all too well that she was trampling across the thin line of wanting to run away, tell him to leave her be, and accepting her fate. What was so wrong with her? Why did she feel as if she were in danger, and then within the next moment, she was so content with his company? Confused, slender brows furrowed together and she finally whispered.

"...do I have reason to be?"

 

[RoryN]

For a moment right after she spoke, Richard didn't know what to tell her. All at once he was shocked and amused by her response but then considering how to reply... Technically he intended to hurt her, but he knew it wouldn't be anything she couldn't take or heal from. But no, she did not have anything to fear from him. She was his dear possession, his treasure, and no matter what appetites consumed him, it would not keep him from his duties as her husband and caretaker.

Holding her hands in both of his, he looked down at her dainty, lace-wrapped fingers, and thoughtfully pinching a fingertip, lightly tugging the gloves off of her. Seeing and touching her nude flesh sent another whirlwind of desire through him, her skin smooth and filled with pulsing life. "No. You don't have a reason to be frightened," he said, his deep voice filled with authority, bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing the back of it. "Just so long as you trust me."

Then he kissed her again, starting soft as before but progressing faster than last time, already moving his lips down her neck and kissing her skin with deeply marking, hot lips, his facial hair nuzzling and rubbing against her. His hands moved with more purpose now as they laid upon her, moving down her bodice and over her hips, searching for a way to remove her layers of clothing down to the bare minimum.

 

[Silver Lining]

His hesitance wore quickly on her nerves, yet, once more he was keen on shading over that brief emotion of worrisome musings. Abigail smiled whilst he eased her lace gloves away, finally allowing for her bare, soft skin to graze across his own. The initial contact sent shivers up her spine, and she nearly gasped within that very moment, finding herself growing hopelessly anxious to have him kiss her again. Though her mouth still hurt from his previous exploration that left her aching in more ways than one, she was most certainly feeling her body grow accustomed to his treatment. He was gentle, yet, he quickly dominated her to the point where she could no longer think for herself. Abigail's gut was twisting in warning, and yet, she believed every word which trickled off of his tongue. She had no reason to be frightened...she needed to trust him...

She melted in his hold instantly, whimpering as he once more captured her mouth and sealed her off, her mind quickly floating off into an existence she had yet to recognize. Her nerves were doused in a white-hot flame, burning her to the point where she too, wished to remove the multiple layering of her attire. Gods, she wanted him so badly, this sinful urge spurred on even more, as he blatantly pawed and tugged at her lacy skirts.

"Richard," she moaned, finally saying his name. She was frazzled and quickly riled up, tipping her head back to further the arch in which he was currently suckling upon. Her skin tingled wherever he traveled, and her hands immediately lifted to tangle within his rich, full hair, keeping him tucked close against her quivering form. He felt marvelous, the rough texture of his facial hair causing her to gasp and giggle as she shuddered beneath the natural current of tickles. "Please," she implored in a desperate, stuttering tone, "My dress...please take it off of me...I feel as if I'll suffocate." The room was just so disorienting, and the air was thick and hot...

 

[RoryN]

Her gasped pleas were enough to quicken his breath and the feel of her fingers tugging and plunged within his hair sent his heart thundering in his chest. He'd held off and teased them both long enough. Capturing her lips again, silencing her once more, he stepped forward quickly and urged her back, his hands placed on her hips to steady her even as she bumped against the wall near the door. Pressing her there with his body, his lips gathered a feverish pace against hers and his hands wandered without restriction. Her bodice was the first to fall victim to his destructive hand, a sharp tearing sound accompanying a sharp jerk of his hand over the fabric. Even as the dress sagged and draped loosely on her shoulders now, his hands moved to push it off, allowing it to crumple upon the ground, leaving her in nothing but corset and baggy drawers. He added the lower garment to the small pile under their feet, leaving her in stockings with garters attached to the corset.

Breaking the kiss and breathing raggedly, he firmly grasped each of her wrists and crossed them above her head. Holding them against the wall with one hand, he watched her face with a distant, predatory look as his other hand traveled downward over her upper legs, owning her with his fingertips even as he reveled in the glorious feeling of her skin. Watching her face for her reactions, his hand caressed it's way up her legs, inserting his fingers between them, stroking warmly at her inner thighs.

 

[Silver Lining]

Abigail was coming to terms with the fact that she was addicted to kissing this man. He was unreal, with the overwhelming sensations that he constantly pinned her with, forcing the young, blossoming dame to surrender to his vehement passions without pause. When his mouth covered her own, she whimpered, feeling the sensitive flesh of her lips lightly bruise beneath his insistent pushes, her feet moving on their own accord whilst he coaxed her back towards the wall. She was pinned, forced between the unyielding plaster and his hard, muscled frame. It was exhilarating, to know she couldn't move...unable to pull away from him and free herself.

She was stuck, and the ripping of her gown echoed throughout her ears, signaling that she was soon to be completely bared to him in all of her glory. Goodness, she was so nervous at the thought, having never been so vulnerably displayed before in front of another person. Yet, this was her husband, she needed to give him her body...to let him touch her as he saw fit, to please him and get pleased in return.

To say the least, she was exquisite. The way her silken, pale flesh glimmered against the crackling of light that flitted throughout the bedroom, from those wide hips, to long legs and a voluptuous display of breasts and bottom. She was what any man would yearn to have waiting for them at home, and yet, despite her being wholesomely matured in all the right ways, she was still blissfully anxious. Her face was still twisted in shameful desire, feeling her heart flutter fretfully as his hands traversed across the expanse of her body. Her hands were held above her head, furthering her inability to move. Abigail's mouth was delicately agape, as she filled the air with heavy gasps and whimpers, his fingers taunting her with their underlying talent. "Richard," she whispered, glancing down towards his hand, which was nestled betwixt her thighs, her core heated and surely dripping.

 

[RoryN]

She was wet. He didn't even have to actually touch her vagina to find evidence of her arousal, his fingertips coming into contact with moisture where they teased her on her inner thighs. Pleased by this evidence of her willingness, he let his hand span the few inches to cup her sex, massaging her with his fingers even as he let them dip and slide between her delicate petals. Richard wouldn't have married her if he wasn't positive that she was a virgin, but he did briefly wonder if she'd ever touched or pleasured herself.

Satisfied by her continued squirming, he released her and kissed her again, his hands moving down behind her to grope the full and perky flesh of her buttocks. For just a few moments longer, he stayed at the wall with her, pulling her into him, their groins mimicking the kissing of their lips above. Then he was picking her up, his hands underneath her and cradling her body against his as he walked over to the bed. Lightly dropping her onto the bedspread, he stood up straight and watched her while unbuttoning his waistcoat and tossing it aside.

From her passionate groping, his hair was no longer brushed back neatly but a few of his bangs fell down to drape over his forehead, just barely overhanging his brows. As he unbuttoned his collar down to the middle of his chest and unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves to reveal thick wrists and muscular forearms, he watched her as he said, "Remember. Just trust me." Finally, he took his arms out of his suspenders, letting them hang loosely by his hips as he came over to the bed.

Thinking about the things he wanted to do to her, he thought it best if they started small - afterall, they had plenty of time to progress and explore each other's limits. After he removed his boots and set them aside, he sat upon the edge of the bed and gestured to her. "Come here. I want you to lay across my lap." It was an order. Even so, he patted his leg welcomingly.

 

[Silver Lining]

To say she knew the touch of a man would be a horrid lie. In fact, the only touch she had ever known was that of her own, when washing herself in a bath. Abigail had yet to venture into the lands of personal satisfaction, and thus, to feel her husband's fingers working against her moist petals with such ease, it forced her sensitive system to become overloaded. She moaned, feeling the slickness that coated her nether lips smear around, the initial contact beyond intimate and forcing her to view him in a much more darker, sensuous light. He made her feel so good, and taken by her natural urges to further explore these newfound sensations, she pressed into him without caution and quickly kissed him back until she could barely breathe. She wanted more...she didn't want for him to stop, for his hands to yield in their groping...

Yet, when they finally did, she was lifted off of the floor and carried off towards the bed. The mattress and array of blankets were soft against her bare flesh, and she stayed there, stocking and garter clad legs curled up at her side, whilst she watched him loosen his attire. He truly was handsome, and the air of confidence he held...that domineering charm, it quickly forced her to want to listen to him. What ever was wrong with her? Why was Abigail beginning to hang off of his every word? Enjoying his reassurance, and those inexcusable orders? She hadn't a clue, yet, she still found herself crawling towards him, intent on following his demands.

Her lithe, curved framed settled over his lap, forcing her supple bottom to perk within the air. She was confused, yet intrigued all the same, her eyes gazing back towards him in question. Feeling considerably insecure with her most precious of assets completely bared and so close to his touch, she shuddered, knowing she was still dripping wet...still aching for his caress and desperate to please him, as she yearned for his touch. "What...what are you going to do," she finally asked breathlessly, her bosom heaving with the exertion of her breathing. Though openly hesitant, and a bit scared, she was far too tangled in this passion to turn away.

 

[RoryN]

Abigail's trust in him was intoxicating as he watched her obey him, his hands helping to adjust her comfortably across his lap. And despite the questioning nature in her tone and face, he found himself once again taken by her refreshing innocence. She was all his.

"I'm going to teach you, my love," he said in a soothingly confident voice, his left hand gliding over the bared skin of her upper back, shoulders and the nape of her neck, making note of the complex pattern of her corset strings crisscrossing in the fabric below. "About the beautiful similarities of pleasure..." his right hand groped her bared buttocks full handedly, petting her skin and his fingers ghosting over the back of her legs and between them teasingly. "...and pain." Abruptly, his hand smacked down on the silken flesh of her backside, the sound it made being much louder than the actual force behind it.

The hand on her back kept a firm pressure on her, holding her still while also keeping her steady, as his other hand came baring down again, harder this time. He stopped briefly to rub his hand over the cheek he'd hit, as if comforting or soothing the spot. But without warning, he was smacking her again, and did not pause before laying his hand upon her flesh again and then again. He kept a steady pace, altering his strokes and blows in intensity, not focusing on either butt cheek for too long, but the skin growing a bright reddish pink before long.

Richard's hand tingled with the violence of the blows he laid upon her, his heart pounding excitedly to feel the soft give and take of her abused flesh. And the tempo of his breathing increased moderately, keeping control of himself as he finally stopped, rubbing his palm over the hot and sore skin. Then his hand ventured lower, between her legs again, no longer teasing but heading right for her pussy, letting his finger trail to the apex of her folds, massaging deeply against her clit. And all the while, he paid close attention to her, focused on her reactions as his fingers sped up in their manipulative touches.

 

[Silver Lining]

Teach her? The young woman's brows furrowed in question, yet in her naive nature, she simply assumed that he was speaking briefly on the fact that she was a virgin. However...she couldn't help but wonder why he had her positioned in such a manner. It was as if she were a child again, misbehaving and placed upon her father's knee, so he could instruct the proper beating of her soft bottom. Abigail couldn't imagine her husband doing such a thing to her, though, and as he groped her tempting butt, making her squirm just so, she was blissfully quaked with a shocking revelation. He had spanked her! Her body lurched forward and she cried out, gasping in utter disbelief of the brief wave of pain that had lunged through her system. "R-Richard," she called out, her breath hitching audibly within her throat as he continued to swat at her plump cheeks, forcing the blood to rise to the surface quickly. He was spanking her! Abigail was shocked, squirming, and whimpering in discomfort as the blows against her only heightened, her skin now brightly flushed and prickling with sensitive nerves.

No matter how much she struggled, though, the palm which was firm against her back kept her from moving too far away, and thus had her immobile against his actions. Abigail's eyes watered despite her need to stay strong, and as her mind raced with the confusion of why in the world her husband was doing this to her, she couldn't bring herself to dislike him. Yes, she did whisper for him to stop, pleading with him in a gentle, timid tone that left absolutely no authority encased. By the time he had finally yielded his hand away from her sore bottom, she was panting heavily, toes and fingers curled in distress. "W-why...did you..."

But then he stroked her searing flesh, soothing the sensitive expanse and forcing her to lay dormant atop of his lap. The side of her pretty, distraught little face was nestled firmly into the bedding, as her legs shamelessly parted to aid in his exploration of her womanhood. He touched her, and gods, the sounds that came out of her mouth. Abigail was moaning loudly, pushing back into his fingers as he massaged that budding, swelling bundle of nerves. It felt absolutely exquisite and had her withering about in a mess of excitement. From the dull ache of her abused backside, to the bright, vivid sparks of pleasure rippling betwixt her thighs, she was in heaven. It was a massed flow of sensory hype, and she was cooing in appreciation, pawing at the sheets and thrusting back against his hand with unbridled want. "Ooohhh~ Please...please don't stop," she begged of him, hips rolling.

 

[RoryN]

Her struggles and cries got him aroused, his blood pumping heatedly to hear the tender confusion and distress in her voice and the glorious pain drenching each syllable that escaped her throat. And the way she said his name, shocked and a little scared, but instantly looking to him for guidance and protection from himself and what he was doing to her. But when she started cooing and moaning breathlessly at him, moving her hips against his swirling fingers and raising her hips insistently, like a cat in heat, he grew fully erect within his trousers to witness the young woman become a mass of living clay in his hands. Richard disobeyed her gasped plea and let his fingers slow down, barely touching her at all, but just enough to still stimulate her, waiting for her verbal complaint at the sudden change.

With a smile, he started up a regular pace again, fingering her swollen clit while moving his other hand down her back and over her bottom again. Still stimulating her, he finally spanked her again with his other hand, smacking her backside harder and harder even as the thumb of his other hand moved rapidly over her pussy. It wasn't long before he slowed both movements, breathing raggedly as he pet her butt cheeks in approval.

Then he was lifting her off of his lap and setting her to lay back onto the bed with her head against the pillows. Gently, he removed a few of the bulkier cushions and tossed them off the bed, allowing her to comfortably recline into a full prone position. Hovering over her, he smiled darkly at her and kissed her tenderly while his hands worked to remove his suspenders. Swiping his tongue within the caverns of her mouth one last time, he drew back again to kneel over her and lifted her wrists above her head. Then he tied them together and knotted his suspenders around one of the dark wooden rails of the headboard, securing her there firmly.

When she was sufficiently restrained he turned his attention to her corset. Gently, with a tenderness he had not shown when removing her dress, he methodically unbuttoned each notch in the center of the garment, gazing down with the focus of a man unwrapping a gift. As it finally lay open and flat beneath her, his hands explored her voluminous curves, cupping each breast and massaging them with slow circular turns of his wrists. He gave her one more kiss before his lips started to blaze a trail southward, moving down the center of her chest, his trimmed facial hair nuzzling her diaphragm and licking heatedly at her belly button.

Kneeling back again, he lifted her right leg and let her ankle drape on his shoulder as he removed the stocking, gathering the fabric in wrinkled rolls and slipping it neatly off of her, kissing her nude calf before laying it back down on the bed. Laying her stocking across his left shoulder, he lifted up her other leg and repeated the gesture of the first, watching her as his lips planted a kiss on her knee. This time, after setting her leg down again, he took the stocking and leaned forward, gently wrapping the garment around her face and covering her eyes. Tying it in place, he hovered close to her ear and said in a husky voice, "Don't be scared; embrace the feeling of helplessness, surrender to my control."

Removing the other stocking from his shoulder, he placed it horizontally into her mouth and tied it in place as well, kissing her collar bone and whispering, "Trust me, my love." before retreating. Kneeling again he looked down at her and felt a shade of wariness and brief uncertainty - the spanking had been playful and rewarding enough for her to possibly enjoy it. But this... He had his new, virgin wife bound, blindfolded and gagged on their bed... there was no going back after this.

Breathing deeply, he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled his shirt out of them to hang loose about his waist. When his hands found her again, the touches were subtle, ghosting over her arms and fingertips gliding over her belly, appearing and disappearing on different expanses of skin at random. Leaning down, he captured a nipple in his lips and suckled it deep into his mouth, using the pressure to tug it harshly, all the while, his hand stroking teasingly on her upper thighs and the mound between her belly and her groin. Then he let go of her only to blow cool air on the roughly abused and saliva moistened nub, before attacking the other with his mouth and tonguing it furiously.

 

[Silver Lining]

Everything burned, and all she could do was pitifully cry out as he continued to work her sensitive, supple body into an absolute frenzy. Abigail could barely control herself, squirming helplessly across the expanse of his lap, even as he taunted her with pulling his fingers away just so. She still arched and curled, practically begging him with the way her frame yielded beneath his hand. Luckily for her, he gave her exactly what she yearned for, forcing the young beauty to mewl out as he teased her feverish little clit. Gods, was this what it felt like every time? Abigail certainly hoped so, as she was quickly growing accustomed to being lavished with such amazing attention. He effortlessly dominated her, turning her into a hungry fiend, needing to explore these unmarked territories of carnal desire. He had her hooked, and though she was skittish...she was eager.

He doted those painful, shocking spanks to her plump behind and she nearly screamed, feeling her nerves growing unbelievably receptive to every motion. Abigail, although she was frightened of these new feelings, she certainly missed them when he pulled away from her completely. Eased up towards the pillows, she laid there, her chest heaving and her toes curling as she ached betwixt her thighs violently, her wetness surely mounting up to the point where her skin was beautifully coated in the honey. Goodness, did she want him to touch her more...it was as if a pressure began to build inside of her gut, quickly soaring to heights that she knew nothing of. It was as if she needed to release, to let herself completely go but she possibly could not do such if his hands weren't trampling along her curves. She needed him, she wanted him to make her come for the first time.

Watching him through heavy lashes, she could barely recognize what he was doing, until it was too late. Her wrists were tied together with the aid of his suspenders, and soon fastened above her head to the elegant wooden railing. She struggled against the hold, tugging at the unyielding straps. "Nnn...Richard...why," she asked, gazing up towards him vulnerably. She was appreciative of how gentle his movements were, as he undid her corset with much practiced skill. It felt marvelous to finally be freed from the restrictions, her lungs expanding and her skin finally cooling beneath the teasing of a light air around her. It felt so good...but...

She was hesitant, and he was quick to distract her from her brief bout of anxiety. His kisses, and the way he openly groped her bared breasts turned her attention off of the fact that she was trapped, unable to move her arms and yet, some part of her, buried deep down, didn't quite mind the lack of freedom. There was something horribly seductive with the way he manipulated her, ultimately trapping the poor, timid woman beneath him.

It was a mixture, from the way he had slapped down across her toosh, to now...his fingers tentatively tugging down her stockings one by one. The sweet, caring kisses he peppered her bare legs with made her smile, her eyes warming up whilst she gazed sweetly towards him. Of course, such an expression only lasted so long as her eyes were soon covered and she was blindfolded. Instantaneously she began squirming, whimpering out in alarm. Why was he doing this? Abigail, no matter how much she yearned to trust him, this was far too much, far too quick. Whining in distress, his words washed over her frazzled thoughts, her lips parting in time to let him ease her other stocking in her mouth. Teeth bit down and her cries were muffled, her body lifting off of the bed whilst slender legs slid about, her sense of vision and the ability to talk quickly heightening her hearing and awareness of where he was...what he was doing, and what it felt like. Her nipples were hard and he lathered them with love, forcing her to immediately push up against his suckling, her gasp barely sounding out.

Abigail was stuck, caught against the bed and her husband as he tortured her with wondrous sensations, those flushed sakura buds straining against his sodden muscle as he sucked, tugged and blew across them, eliciting from her a series of sounds. Drool soaked into her stocking and her head tipped back, the arch of her neck increasing whilst she took each and every torturous moment in. Oh, how she wished she could beg.

 

[RoryN]

Even as much as she was tortured close to bursting by what he was doing, the sounds and helpless movements she made were tormenting him. The sounds bubbling up from her throat and muffled by the gag, drool seeping in thin rivers down her chin, and other juices flowing liberally out of her between soft, lower lips; it was almost too much for him to bear and his cock pulsed and ached within his trousers, driving him insane with it's eager nagging.

Retreating from her to kneel again, he pushed his breeches down his hips, his erection bobbing awkwardly as he maneuvered them the rest of the way off his legs and tossed them off the side of the bed. Once they were banished from his person, he turned his attention back to Abigail, cradling and adjusting her hips so her legs opened before him. Looking down at the quivering and excited flesh of her sex, glistening and moistened by her first taste of desire and pleasure, he stroked her outer lips briefly before moving his body forward.

Leaving his loose, white shirt on, he held the bottom hem out of the way as he grasped his hardened length and guided himself forward to nuzzle between her folds, the head of his cock rubbing against her clit before he directed it lower. Finding her entrance wasn't difficult, but forcing his way in was, and he firmly held her hips still as he pushed into her until finally the resistance gave way and her folds split around him.

A hot and pleased exhalation of breath escaped him as her tightness enveloped him, unstretched and thoroughly marked as his by the mere presence of his member being the first to ever venture there. It didn't take him long to adjust and he supported himself on his hands as his hips dived forward between her thighs, slow and easy, owning this new and unexplored territory of her body. Even though he'd most certainly conquered women before, they'd been nothing like this, the others having been used and opened wide by a line of others before him, loosened and stretched unfavorably. Abigail's internal walls closed around him with every plunge he took inwards, practically suffocating him with pleasure with how harshly her silken insides hugged him, the soft, dark helmet of his cock almost practically "popping" out of her with every retreat of his hips.

And having already teased them both plenty beforehand, he didn't waste time with any unnecessary tenderness, his buttocks bobbing fluidly with deep, quick thrusts, and the muscles of his shoulders rippling as his body see-sawed, hovering above her. A hoarseness developed in his throat, a hushed and subtle grunting coming from between his lips, his voice taken down to a primitive level by the pleasure she coaxed out of him with her squeezing pussy lips. Resting a hand on the horizontal bar of the headboard, using it for leverage and support, he increased his pace, his breath dragging with an animal intensity from his lungs as his hips pumped rapidly between her creamy legs.

It wasn't before long that he started to feel himself getting closer, the release he ached for tingling teasingly just at the edges of his reach. But it stayed untouchable for the most part, and Richard grew frustrated as weariness began to seep into his limbs and body. Gazing down at Abigail, sweat glistening on her rocking and swaying body in the diluted light, he knew what he needed. Just one more push and he'd be able to reach that blissful end. With his hips still moving and his dick sliding in and out of her smooth wetness, he leaned down and captured her right nipple in his mouth and bit down hard, pinching her savagely between his teeth.

 

[Silver Lining]

Through the heavy panting of her erratic, labored breathing, to the muffled exclaims as he continued to taunt her body up into a fevered frenzy, she could hear the telltale shuffling of clothing. It hit her ears immediately, forcing her head to turn towards the source of such a sound, her brows lifting in a visible display of confusion, and intrigue. She could see not a thing, nor could she say a word, her arms were hopelessly tied above her head...forcing the poor dear to be inevitably helpless to any and all of his administrations. Though, admittedly, she was frightened, Abigail felt a strange sense of trust in this man, even as he grasped upon her hips and forced her legs open. She tensed up like a wooden board, crying out against the soaked material of her constricting stocking. What was he going to do? Surely he had taken his breeches off, yes?

Was he really going to take her for the first time, in such a degrading manner?

Despite the stroking along the sensitive flesh of her nether lips, she was still nervous, her stomach was twisting with the anticipation of pain, and the very moment she felt the bulbous head of his erection ease up against her slit, she nearly screamed. Goodness, he was going to take her! Toes curled and her legs struggled beneath the strength of his hands, which held her dormant and stable. Abigail's chest heaved as she panicked, surely not one to enjoy being unable to actually see what he was doing, especially given a moment like this. Her virginity was the prime factor of any man wanting her, and thus, it was infinitely important to her. Though, the sad and darkening truth was that this man was her husband. Richard could take it from her as he pleased, in whatever way he willed it so. Thus, she accepted her fate, and tried to relax for her own sake.

Finally, he breached her walls and her back arched sharply as he dug his length deep within her yielding channel. Slow, thin trickles of blood made their way down across the supple cheeks of her ass, soon to be overrun by the following wetness of her arousal. He filled her, forced her hole to burn as he worked in and out steadily, taking her like no one else had been given the blessing to. Abigail continued to wither about the bed, struggling against her ties and biting rapidly at the cloth betwixt her swollen mouth. He wasn't stopping, nor was he letting her get used to him at a gradual pace. Her body felt as if it were on fire and though she was stressed, it felt marvelous. Her clit was swollen and hard to the touch, as her nerves screamed beneath the onslaught of his intruding member. Goodness, if only those prissy upperclassmen could see her right now...

The round, glorious mounds of her bosom were bouncing with each and every shove of his hips, the delicate line of her neck stretched back, whilst she dug her head into the silken pillows cradling her. She was coming, her muscles were tightening up even more, sucking down on him like an iron vice and she spilled all across his cock, coating him thoroughly and thus giving him even more lubrication, to continue on with his mindless rutting. Her inner thighs were coated thoroughly with her sweetness, as the rest of her was glistening beneath the lewd lighting in a soft sheen of perspiration. She was gorgeous, the rich curls of auburn clinging to the curves of her upper frame, as she wrapped those pale, sinuous legs around his waist, urging him closer...urging him to come inside of her and fill her womb with his boiling, potent seed. She needed it, so, so badly.

Then, just as she worked her prominent hips into his, he leaned down and bit the susceptible bud of rose, forcing her to cringe, jerk and scream.

 

[RoryN]

Her scream pierced the air, even muffled as it was by the gag, sending a shuddering, electrical jolt through his body, every nerve responding to the distressed sound. Even her abrupt, restricted movements articulating sudden pain were enough to finally push him over the edge, his teeth releasing her as a light groan escaped his lips and heat washed over him. Panting unevenly, he swayed above her with a few more slow thrusts as his cock pulsed and emptied inside of her, filling her with warm bursts of fluid and his buttocks clenching as each wave of pleasure swept through him.

Blinded by his orgasm and feeling weak from the exertion of taking her, he laid on top of her, her smooth body molding to his while he caught his breath. Finally, blinking hazily, he kissed her near her underarms and on her collar bone, raising himself up enough to look at her, his detumescing cock slipping free of her body, as he reached up and tugged the gag from her mouth. Her lips were swollen and bruised, but even as he felt a small measure of guilt about possibly hurting or frightening her, he couldn't help but feel a purring satisfaction from looking at the abused state of her lips.

Briefly, Richard kissed them softly, gentle yet encouraging before he also removed her blindfold, lightly tugging the small knot he'd made to secure it in place, his fingertips caressing her cheeks as her eyes were freed. Seeing her eyes again, he couldn't help but feel proud of her for what she'd been through for him. It was a terrifying thing for a woman to lose her virginity, a very vulnerable moment in her life, and he'd made the event even more vulnerable and threatening for her by tying her down and making her helpless. And the sex itself had been great, even as much as he enjoyed the playing they'd done beforehand. Cradling her cheek in his hand and gazing down at her, his dark eyes shone softly as he smiled in approval and said, "Good girl."

It wasn't the most loving thing he could have chosen to say, but in that moment, leaning above her, both of them covered in sweat, still a little breathless and his mind filled with a euphoric fog, he couldn't stifle the urge to articulate to her in some way how pleased he was with her. Richard didn't pause for another second as he carefully reached up and removed his suspenders from the headboard, kissing one of her wrists as it came free from the impromptu binding. Easing himself off of her and running a hand through his hair, brushing the sweat coated strands from his face, he glanced down and his eyes latched upon the spot of blood beneath her on the bedcloths. A pulse of arousal surged through him, but it was understated and clouded by his already present satiation.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, wondering if he'd made a mistake by taking her so forcefully like this for her first time.

 

[Silver Lining]

What...what had just happened?

Abigail could barely think anything on the bounds of rationality, her mind currently muddled with the clustering of their brutal, intense bout of love making. Truly though, could one even call it such? The young woman was horribly confused and whilst she felt Richard's softening cock slowly slide from her quivering channel, she couldn't help but groan, the sound soon enough rising as he pulled the gag out of her abused mouth. The corners of her flushed lips were sore and she quickly licked at the tarnished petals, whimpering just so in relief. Everything was beginning to hurt, as the easing sensation of pleasure soon enough swept away whilst her orgasm trickled down into nothing. She could feel absolutely everything. The sensitive, raw flesh of her wrists, to the pulsing ache in her womanhood...and the bruised bud of her bitten nipple.

Her eyes were free to roam and she stared up towards him, absolutely speechless. Abigail knew not what to say, or if she even contained the strength to find her voice in the first place. Instead, she opted for simply laying there, dormant beneath him, whilst her arms fell limp upon the pillows at either side of her pretty head. She was released, yet she hadn't the want to move from where she lay. The blood still stained her, as did the mixture of their secretions. The proof lay thickly betwixt those creamy, parted thighs, the rest of her demeanor matching as she was surely a ruffled, frazzled mess. He had thoroughly ravished her from top to bottom, bringing her into the tow of a feral, raunchy new lifestyle. Yet he had approved of her, and treated her delicately after his harsh activities. It was due to moments like these, that she was loving him as much as she did.

How did she feel? Well...she felt quite a lot, but most of all, she felt confused. Was this normal for him?

Finally she managed to twist her body over then, curled up on her side and facing him. Slender digits pushed her hair away from her face, whilst those tired, glistening irises fell upon his handsome face, gazing towards him with utmost respect. "I...is it wrong that...I'm both fascinated by what you've done to me...and frightened," she questioned in barely a whisper, merely telling him the truth.

 

[RoryN]

'What he'd done to her'. Well, it definitely described what had happened. Abigail had become a victim of his lusts rather than an equal participant with him. And he didn't really know what he expected - for her to be praising his Lordly love-making skills and begging to be spanked harder next time? No, of course not. Richard had known it would be hard for her first time. He'd even expected her to cry about it - which would have done nothing to change his mind about it, but certainly was not the scenario he preferred. The fact that she wasn't, that she was willing to even look at him after that, was incredibly rewarding and he decided not to take it for granted.

Before, he didn't know how to explain what he desired without scaring her and shutting her off to it completely. Now that it was done and they'd taken that first, large step, it was time to talk about it.

"No, it's not wrong for you to feel that way," he said with a crooked smile. "And I'm going to take 'fascinated' to mean... that you enjoyed yourself, yes? At least somewhat." He glanced away from her and reached out to touch her. His fingertips brushed a faint outline along her curvy hip, lazily stroking her soft skin. "I do not want you to be frightened of me or the way that I choose to express my desires," he said thoughtfully, looking back down into her green eyes. "Your pleasure and contentment are important to me and I will never hurt you more than you can endure, my love."

He didn't know if he meant it. He wanted to mean it. But there was a level to this that went beyond what she was willing to do for him. She was his wife and it was her duty to please him. He wanted to take her willingly every single time if he could, but he knew he would still take her anyway even if she wasn't.