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The Young Heiress

L

Lilytania

Supernova
Joined
Aug 28, 2010
Victoria Whitman was a pompous young girl, raised in a well-off family in America. She rode her horse every day, spent time reading and drawing, and had a tutor. She was much better off than the average American. The girl was taking a break from schooling, since her tutor had other problems to deal with. So, she spent most of the day riding her horse. With her parents gone, she could do pretty much whatever she wanted. She rode through the large plain, smiling, before galloping all the way back to the forest at the edge of her home. She led her horse back to the stable, and gave her a little pat on the head before handing her off to the stable hand.

She got cleaned up with a bath before she headed up to her bedroom, knowing that the house was empty besides the butler and various servants. She didn't mind; she felt safe even with those few people around. In her countryside home, she never felt threatened by the war threatening to break out. None of the threatening European powers would bother wasting their bombs and weapons on the countryside, sparsely populated and hardly militarily occupied.

The sixteen-year-old shut her bedroom door and lit a candle, wandering about her room as she got ready for bed. She put on her nightgown, a soft silk think that went down to her shins. She smiled at herself in the mirror, and sat down at her vanity. She slowly brushed out her hair and braided it in a long chunk down her back, smoothing it out. She got up and shut her curtains, blocking out the faint moonlight hiding behind the clouds, casting silvery light on the forest surrounding her home.

She climbed into her bed beneath the covers, settling into the warmth, and blew out the candle at her bedside. She sighed and shut her eyes, rather quickly falling asleep into that wonderful dreamland. She was entirely unaware of the plot against her, of the dangers lurking in her hall while her parents were absent. Little did she know her life would change tonight.
 
Kal was an angry fairly-young man.

He had been working for the Whitman family since he was their daughter's age. He was happy and grateful at first, but by the age of twenty-eight he was bitter, angry, a bit socialist, and yearning to spite the family he now saw as a bunch of pompous tyrants.

He had been planning for months, almost a year. The couple that he pretended to be so devoted to were gone, and so then he could launch his plan.

In the dead of night, he burst into the bedroom of the daughter, Victoria. He was dressed in his casual, work attire, with a portable candle-holder in hand, as the house was totally dark. He rushed over to her bed, with a seemingly worried look on his pale, thin face. He nudged her shoulder lightly. "Miss Whitman," He said, with a tense voice, "Wake up -- we have to get out of here."
 
Victoria was dreaming of a husband. One who would love and protect her. He'd be a fighter, ready to enter the war if he had to. But he'd send postcards, and he'd come back with presents and love. He would be strong enough and smart enough to survive and come back. He would love and protect her, and they would have beautiful children together. Her parents would approve of him, and he would respect them. She'd inherit this mansion, and they'd live happily ever after.

When he would enter, she was splayed out on her bed. Her red hair surrounded her, gently laid out on her pillow. She breathed audibly through her open mouth, and she looked quite peaceful for once. She wasn't nagging him, she wasn't talking, and she wasn't getting frustrated at someone for not following her orders. She almost seemed angelic here, sleeping in her bed.

She was rudely awakened by the butler of the house shaking her. She opened her eyes blearily, looking up at him as she blinked away the sleep, trying to wake up. She saw the dim light of the candle, and she put her arm on her forehead, staring up at him as she tried to process what was going on. It was dark, still late. How long had she been asleep? The girl groaned and rolled over. He was just coming to bother her about some preparations for tomorrow. She'd nag him about such things tomorrow. Didn't he know it was rude to wake one up, especially when they needed their beauty sleep?

She heard the sense of urgency in his tense voice, and she groaned again, rolling back over to look up at him. "Why? Is the house burning down?" Before he could answer, she sighed. "I highly doubt it." It didn't seem like she was willing to get up on her own, but she was so bleary that she could not really protest to anything. She grumbled as she tried to go back to sleep again. She was exhausted from a long, sore day of riding her horse, and he was trying to disturb her and get her out of bed for some unbeknownst reason. She would make sure her parents heard of this one.

"What do you want, Kal?" she murmured. It wouldn't be hard to pull her out. She was so tired that she wouldn't fight until she fully woke up and realized what was happening to her.
 
He had prepared, and planned every bit of the acting he would do that night. He was a skiddish person, and he appeared as though he was incredibly distressed as she layed there half-asleep -- his eyes were wide, and his mouth was scrunched into a grim frown.

"No! ," He exclaimed, though with his voice hushed. He grabbed her upper arm, and said, "We have to get out of here -- quickly." His teeth were bared and clenched together, as part of his visible distress. "You have to get up! ," He asserted.

Placing his hand on her arm had sent a shiver down his spine. He had never touched her before, and for several years he had wanted to. He was not just using her as a pawn in his plot to spite the Whitman family -- he wanted to do this to her. He had fantasized about undressing her, and planting his seed in her fertile young body, regardless of the circumstances of how he would be doing that. He felt that way about a lot of young ladies, but none appealed to him as much as Victoria. He hated commitment though, and in the times he lived in it was hard to impregnate a woman without having to marry her first -- he had thought about using force, but was afraid to until when his plan began.

He had done a good job, though, of hiding his predatory thoughts, as well as his disdain for the family.

Immediately after he finished his last sentence to her, he looked over his shoulder, at the open door, as if he was worried about somebody entering.
 
Victoria groaned as he grabbed her arm. She slowly sat up, her red hair messy and unkempt. Her young, delicious body barely showed through the night gown she wore. She stumbled to her feet, grumbling unhappily as he disturbed her rest. She could sense the distress, even in her sleepiness. She could feel his hand tense on her arm, and she began to stumble after him. She didn't know what was going on or what was going through his mind. She didn't understand why he was so upset. She whined and rubbed her eyes as she stumbled after him. "Where're we going? What's going on?" she asked as they began to move through the halls. She was still half asleep, wanting so desperately to go back to sleep and get her rest, enjoy her night as every teenaged girl did, sleeping. She sighed, feeling the soft, plush rugs beneath her feet as she walked along. She had her eyes shut, and she was just following his guidance. She didn't even know where in the house they were as they moved along.

"What's going on?" she asked again, hearing her voice echo in one of the spacious rooms in the house. She yawned and opened her eyes as he dragged her along. "Can't you tell me what's going on?" All the other servants were asleep in the other wing of the house. No one would discover them missing until morning.
 
"No time," He said, "We have to get out of here." He panted as he rushed through the halls, holding on to her arm. He repeatedly looked back at her, seemingly to make sure she was safe and following him, but mostly to get what little eye-full of her delicious body he could get in the dim light. He was already anxious to get started on her -- seeing her run in that little nightgown was making him very eager to breed.

Finally, they left the house. "C'mon, keep following me," He urged, as he began walking into the forest. His pace slowed just a bit. "There's a cabin this way," He said, a bit out of breath from earlier, "We'll be safe there."

He had, with the help of some conspirators who worked at the estate, built the cabin himself. It was somewhat deep in the forest, and consisted of only a single room, with nothing but a chest containing some supplies.

He continued through the forest with her, until they came to the small, wooden cabin. He opened the door to it, and said, "Get in. We'll be safe here." Inside it was dark -- but he had some candles inside that he could light. He stood outside still, holding the door open for her, as a good domestic servant would do.
 
Victoria didn't understand why he was in such a hurry or why he wouldn't tell her why he was "rescuing" her, but she didn't ask any more questions. She was too tired, and she just stumbled after him, walking quickly to keep up with him. He was going fast, and she practically had to run to keep up with his large gait. She looked up at the moon shrouded in clouds. She was more awake now, especially with the cool night air biting her poorly protected skin. The nightgown didn't provide much insulation. She listened to their own footsteps as they crunched on leaves, and she carefully stepped in order to avoid hurting her feet. She could hear his panting, and she wondered what had gotten him so worked up that he felt the apparent need to protect her.

They arrived at the cabin, and she nervously gazed at it, biting her lip. Something wasn't right. But maybe that was just her sensing whatever had spooked her butler. She nodded when he opened the door, and hesitantly walked in, looking around the single room. "Now do you want to tell me what's going on?" she asked. Her eyes laid on the bed, and she tensed nervously. "What's going on?"
 
He went to each of the candles, clustered in the corners of the room, and lit each one. Then he went to the door, and closed it as he stood facing Victoria. He leaned against the door, and then looked down at the floor in front of him.

He sighed, as part of his act. Then he looked up again, at the young girl's face. "Someone was in the house," He said, "He wanted to-" he paused, "he wanted to do some terrible things to you, so I had to get you out of there."

His story was not water-tight, he knew. But it did not matter then. He was moments away from taking her. His heart was beating rapidly, and he was highly aroused. He stepped forward, towards her.

He smiled. "Unfortunately though," He started. He lifted up his shirt, to show the handle of a knife that hung on the waist of his trousers. "You're not safe from him here," He continued. Obviously, he was playing a bit of a joke -- he was the man he spoke of, but he wondered if she would have gotten it. To help her make sense of it, he grabbed the knife with his right hand, brandishing it at her with the same smile on his face. The faithful domestic servant she had known since she was just a little girl was now threatening her with a knife.
 
Victoria watched, her gaze following him as he shut the door and lit each candle. She tensed and crossed her arms, standing in the middle of the room. It felt barren and strange, almost foreign to her. Why was this cabin even out here, in the middle of the woods, and how he even knew about it. Her emerald eyes followed him, glistening in the dull light given off by the candles. The cabin felt like a prison, almost.

She listened to his explanation, and tensed. "Someone was in the house?" She bit her lip nervously and stared at him. Had he heard the man come in or something? The story sounded suspicious, and she tensed as he stepped forward. She swallowed and clench her fists, looking down at the knife at his belt. She began to process what was going on, and she backed up toward the bed. "Wh-What?" she asked. She shook her head. "D-Don't touch me." She fell back onto the bed and scrambled up toward the head, trying to get away.
 
He continued moving forward, as she moved away and towards the small bed in the corner of the cabin. He was confident she would not get away, and he was glad when she got on the bed, which was exactly where he wanted her.

He got on the bed, standing on his knees and staring down at her, with the knife still in hand. He darted his free hand up her nightgown, and grabbed on to her underwear, intending to pull it down and expose her presumably virgin sex. In the instant that he did that, he hoped that the knife in his hand would have been enough to make her not fight him.
 
Victoria screamed and began to kick at him as he came closer. She thrashed and struggled as he grabbed her nightgown, and she shook her head, throwing a punch at the side of his head. She wasn't a violent girl, but she wanted to escape. She went into fight or flight mode, and since he had her trapped in the corner and was holding onto her nightgown, trying to take her underwear. "No! No!" she cried. "What're you doing? Let me go!" She kicked again, ignoring the knife but still getting around it carefully. "Let me go! I'll tell my parents! You'll be fired!"
 
As she punched and kicked, he decided to let go of the underwear for the time being. Instead, he grabbed her upper arms, holding them down, and got flat on top of her. He looked straight down at her, as he struggled with her.

He let go of her left arm, just to hold the knife in front of her face. "I'll kill you and your parents if you tell anyone," He threatened, "And if you keep fighting me, I just might decide to take out some of my frustration on your sweet mother once I'm done with you." He preferred young women like Victoria, but he also had a soft spot for older ladies -- especially those that looked like they might still have a few more years of fertility left, like Victoria's mother.

He hoped that would calm her down. For added effect, he held the blunt side of the knife to her lovely white neck -- he wouldn't hurt her of course, ever, but he needed to scare her.
 
Victoria screamed and fought him until he got her pinned down, before she began whimpering and shaking her head. Frightened tears began to spill down her face as he threatened to kill her family. She struggled and shook her head, tensing up as he held the knife to her slender throat. She didn't liked feeling trapped like this, with him hovering over her and threatening to kill her. She wailed when she heard him tell her he'd take out his frustration on her mother. She squirmed and shook her head. "Please don't!" she cried.

She whimpered as he held the blunt side of the knife to her neck, which was still just as frightening. She shut her eyes and whined, shaking her head. "What're you going to do to me? Why am I out here?" He didn't expect to keep her here, did he? She would find some way out, she was sure. She bit her lip and looked up at him with wide emerald eyes. "You can't do this." Even though she didn't know what 'this' was.
 
He smiled as she asked him what he was going to do, and he was glad that she quit fighting so violently.

He brought his face closer to her's, looking down at her pretty green eyes. He moved the knife in his hand, so that it was pointed away from her, with the handle between his fingers as he caressed her neck. "I'm going to make you a mother, Victoria," He said, in a chillingly soft manner. It was his odd way of saying he was going to rape her. Then, in a much darker tone, he said, drawing his head back away from her face, "And I'm going to defile the Whitman family's sweet little princess -- but don't worry, it'll be easier for you if you do what I say."

He was aching to get inside of her. He lightly ground the crotch of his trousers up against her, in order to keep himself satisfied in a little way, before the big event.
 
Victoria tensed when he told her what he would do. She immediately began squirming and fighting again, trying to break free and escape. She wailed desperately, shaking her head. He was going to dirty the line of Whitmans. He was going to put her under conspiracy and rumors. She whimpered and kept trying to pull her hands from his grip. "Please, no!" she wailed. She whimpered and shook and head. "You can't do this to me!" She sealed her eyes shut as he caressed her neck. He was so calm about it all that it creeped her out. She felt him grind into her crotch, and she whined, clenching her legs tightly shut. "I won't let you," she told him firmly, looking up at him.
 
"I can," He said, glaring down at her as he held tightly onto her arms, "And you will."

He knew he had threatened differently before, but he decided he would make a more threatening statement. "If you don't do what I say," He warned, "I'll kill you. Then I'll kill your father. But as for your mother..." He trailed off, then started again, "...she looks like she has a few good years of fertility left -- I might just decide to keep her."

He smiled again. He spoke very calmly, as he layed on top of her, holding her once-flailing arms. "And all the other servants are in on it," He said, exaggerating a bit, "So don't think any of them will help you."
 
Victoria whimpered and shook her head. She looked up at him with wide eyes. She didn't want her mother to have to suffer this. He was going to do something to someone. What would happen if she was found dead, then her father, and then her mother was raped? She whimpered and trembled, tears pouring down her cheeks. He couldn't make her stay. She would escape. The girl whimpered and crossed her legs tightly, pulling on his grip on her arms. She shook her head desperately. "No!" she cried. "Someone would help me!" She was evidently terrified, and determined to get out of here. She would get away with her family. She'd fight him off until she could get to her family. They were coming home in a week. Surely not every servant was in on it. She whimpered and kicked. "Please! Let me go! Do you want money? A raise? A better job? Just ask and I'll get it for you!" she cried. It was becoming apparent that she wouldn't go down willingly. She kicked and flailed, trying to get him off of her. He was going to keep her here until she was pregnant. What kind of sick man did that?
 
He was growing frustrated with her kicking and trying to get away. He wanted badly to get her clothes off and get inside of her -- he didn't want to have to keep fussing with her. So he took his left hand off of her arm, and placed it on her neck, holding it tight enough to scare her, but not tight enough to risk choking her. As he did this, he had his teeth bared and clenched together, with his eyes wide open -- a sort of deranged look.

"I'll kill you right now," He hissed.

Of course, he was just trying to scare her. He would never have killed her. He wanted to get between her delicious thighs more than he wanted to spite her parents, really.
 
When he grabbed her throat and tightened her grip enough to make her tickle in her throat, ahe whimpered quietly and sealed her eyes shut, fearful tears sliding down her cheeks. She stopped struggling and shook her head. "Please, don't," she whispered. She looked up at him, not moving. She didn't want to be raped, but she would rather be raped than killed. She shut her eyes again and cringed, trying to hide herself as he held her down and threatened to kill her. She could only hope that he wouldn't follow through with that plan. She didn't want her family to suffer any more than they had to, either. She was sure they'd be upset over her pregnancy anyways.
 
He took his hand off her throat, and grinned, glad that she stopped resisting so much. He didn't want to have to wrestle with her -- he was planning on her being scared enough to do what he said. And now, he thought that perhaps he was going to get what he wanted.

He moved away, and got off the bed. The knife was still in his hand, and he held it up to make it more visible to her. "Good girl," He said, softly. "Now -- get off the bed. And take your clothes off." He had the same wide-eyed look on his face -- he was very eager, and very anxious, to see her fertile young body uncovered.
 
Victoria slowly relaxed as he got up and his weight was lifted off of her. She looked at him with wide eyes and whimpered, biting her lip and slowly nodding. She was terrified, especially that he might kill her if she didn't do what he said and instead rape her mother. She wiped tears off of her cheeks and whimpered as she tentatively got up and looked at him. She nervously took off her nightgown, her hands shaking, and pulled off her underwear and looked at him with wide eyes. She used her arms to cover up her breasts, and clenched her legs tightly together. Her young, fertile body practically begged to be taken as she innocently hid herself.
 
His expression relaxed as she removed her clothing. Finally, he would be able to see her delicious body -- and it was exactly how he imagined. He simply stood there, silent, for a few moments, as he took in the sight before him, of her ripe, fertile body. Then he came back to his senses. He approached her.

He grabbed her arms, pulling them away from her hefty chest. "Perfect," He whispered, as he put the hand that didn't hold the knife to her chest, lightly squeezing her breasts, one after the other. With that and her hips, he confirmed in his sick mind that she was perfect for producing healthy offspring. He reached down and undid his trousers, pulling them down to reveal his already-erect, veiny, uncircumcised penis. He placed his hands again on her upper arms, and pushed, in order to guide her down to the floor, where he would take her.

As he did this, he looked down at her with a grin, though not as deranged as the one before.
 
Victoria whimpered when he grabbed her arms and forced her to stop hiding. He looked at her breasts with satisfaction and squeezed them, eliciting a whine from Victoria. He checked her hips, and she tensed. She realized he was trying to make sure that she was pregnamt that would be better. He grabbed her arms and began dragging her down, his enlarged cock threatening her as she fell to the floor like a dead girl. She began to squirm and whimper.
 
He got down on his knees, directly south of her feet, after she had been successfully placed on the floor. He grabbed her ankles, and pushed her legs up so that her knees were almost to her chest, and so that her sex -- as well as her tight, puckered arsehole, which he had no interest in -- were displayed infront of him.

Where he was, the business end of his erect cock was mere inches from her sex. He was incredibly eager to bury the dark-pink head between her light-pink labia, but as he looked up at her face, he decided he wanted to torture her a little first. "Are you a virgin? ," He started, purely out of curiosity.
 
Victoria whimpered as he grabbed her ankles, holding her down, and held his cock just a few inches from her sex. She shut her eyes and trembled, terrified of what this would be like. She nodded quickly when he asked if she was a virgin. Maybe he'd be gentler on her if he knew that. "Please don't hurt me. Please." She shut her eyes and squirmed beneath him. "Please." She swallowed nervously before looking up at him. "I don't want to do this. I don't. I just want to go back home!"
 
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