Claim (Closed for Methos and FK)

[Fetish Kitten]

Annalea huffed as her serving girl brushed her long golden hair, dragging the coarse horse hair brush through the locks with irritating clumsiness. The girl was new, and sorely testing Annalea's patience. She was ready to turn around and cuff the girl in the ear, but instead she watched herself in the mirror above her small, crudely crafted dressing table. Her long hair seemed to devour the light of the candle and reflect it back as it poured down her back and over her shoulders. Her blue eyes were as cold as the biting winds outside of her window. She smiled at he cold reflection, remembering how much it had cost her father to get this mirror. There was only one other in the entire castle.

She watched herself pull a heavy fur blanket tight across her shoulders as the olive skinned serving girl fumbled again, this time tugging at her hair as the brush caught.

"Ow! Give me that damned brush, you ungainly wench!" Annalea twisted in her chair and grabbed the girl's wrist, wrenching the brush from her hand and smacking her with the backside of it. The serving girl cried out in surprise and pain, and tried to pull away in fear, which only angered Annalea more. "Get out of my room, you inept little urchin! Go!" She let go of the girl's wrist with a push and sent her tumbling back on to her rear. The girl scurried quickly out of the room, shutting the door loudly behind her.

"Stupid, useless serving girl." She muttered to herself as she ran the brush through her hair herself, watching the light reflect off of it. It was amazing, she thought, hoe beautiful she was. Non one else in teh castle could boast of locks so golden, or eyes so blue, or skin so fair and smooth.

She laughed quietly at the thought of any one of the other girls trying to take her place. In beauty, or anything else. She was the crowned princess, someday she would be queen, and rule all of the kingdom from her father's throne. It was almost difficult to wait.

Annalea sighed happily to herself as she set the brush down, sitting up straighter in the mirror, looking at her perfect body. Full breasts, a small waist, full, child bearing hips. Someday she would choose to have children with her husband and make her own beautiful sons and daughters to take up her place. That would be wonderful, she thought.

Annalea's pleasant thoughts were disrupted, quite suddenly, byt a scuffle outside of her door. She stood and pulled the heavy fur even tighter around herself, covering her thin white shift as she moved to the door and pushed it open slowly. She was surprised by a man's body tumbling strait at her, and she gave a cry of surprise as she stepped quickly out of the way. The body tumbled to her feet and she screamed again. She recognized the man as her door guard . . . minus his throat. She backed away as she looked through the doorrway, backing up to her small dressing table and stumbling with the draw that had been hidden away beneath the table top. She managed to pull the whole drawer out, and throwing it to the ground she armed herself with a six inch dagger heavily encrusted with rubies and emeralds.

If someone was coming after her, she was going ot be ready- but what was going on? Father was secure in his throne, no one would ever try to overthrow him- would they?

 

[Methos]

A king and his power like all things deteriorated with time. For the king grew old. No longer did he stand in the shield wall, or don his armour and his sword and lead the men to victories as the once did. He did not give them the arm rings that spoke of their heroics or honour as they desired, nor fill their pockets with plunder as they craved. Many felt a fondness for the aging man and yet they were not content. Who fought the king’s battles? His bastard son mostly. A wiser man would like as not have made him heir whatever side of the sheets he had been born on. For as one man waned the other waxed with each battle and raid.

Yet Brand had been scorned and the throne was to be passed to King Olaf’s daughter Annalea and the generally useless braggart that she had married. Very few outside of seemingly father, daughter and son-in-law seemed terribly pleased by this particular arrangement. Olaf was too old. Alfred, the son in law who would be king, was deemed a coward whom was ruled over by his wife. A man easily held in contempt by all of his peers. That left the war bands restless and agitated, very little had been needed to set off full blown rebellion.

Then the King, naturally at his daughter’s prompting, had banished his bastard son. Dutifully the guards had tossed him from the castle yet after doing so, many had simply deserted their posts and dashed to catch up with him. The bastard prince was not so easily disposed of. The warrior had grabbed shield, sword and spear as the word of his fate had travelled. There was no need for him to ask it of them, they came on their own and soon hailed him king.

Very little formality had followed. The gathered men had moved from the woods where they had assembled and marched upon the castle itself. The castle guards whom had left, first approached the gates and called out to their former colleagues that they were returning from the tavern in the town and to let them in. Hardly an unusual occurrence so the castle’s gates were throne open. Perhaps to the dismay of the guards within their fellows drew swords and attacked them straight away only to be followed by the warriors that had tarried just out of site.

The hard dark eyes of the man whom had inspired this civil war looked upon what transpired about him. His helmet was pulled down snugly over his rugged features, although locks of long black hair trailed down to his shoulders. His tall form moved nimbly through the courtyard with his sword in one hand and shield in the other. His was a tall and powerful frame. He stood a good six feet and three inches in height, and a broad span at the shoulder coupled with a muscular built had made him a rather impressive warrior. Immediately he found where the guards whom had stayed loyal to the king were organizing some manner of resistance. With a yell of “To me!” He gathered a group of his own warriors and smashed into the guards with reckless abandon. His shield crashed against them and soon his sword probed past their line of shields and found flesh.

The dark haired warrior leaned into his opponent, letting his weight push him back onto his heels. Then his sword was stabbed forward hard and low to slice into the other man’s gullet. As the body crumbled her turned to the nearest adversary and his numbers began to overwhelm those that resisted. As more men died, the guards within the courtyard simply began to surrender for few thought their much honour in dying for those they gave not a wit.

The castle’s doors were then thrown open and the warriors began to fan out inside it. “Bring them too me.” He ordered and there was no question as to whom he meant. Warriors by the dozen spread out through the castle seizing first the king from his bed. Then Alfred from his supper, and finally after the resistance of her guards a dozen warriors stormed into the princess’ bedroom.

Undoubtedly it was a confusing sight for the princess. Her soldiers had just killed her guards, and now they stood before her rather hostilely with blood splattered upon their weapons and hate in their eyes. The warriors would draw closer to her and spear point were extended to her as she was rather curtly told “You’ll come with us or we’ll kill you.” The warriors smirked as they noted “The King wants to see you.” Although their gloating tone seemed to suggest that King was not her father.

Indeed they were rather insistent that the blonde woman drop her dagger and then surrounded by spear points she was escorted to the throne room. There she’d find her father and husband, similarly under guard. Perhaps unnervingly sitting upon the throne and smiling like a Cheshire cat was her half brother. The crown from her father’s head now rested rather easily upon his brow. He looked at his half sister and simply smirked. “What a difference a few hours makes eh?”

 

[Fetish Kitten]

Annalea was ready to thrust her dagger into whatever flesh stepped through the door, but she had not been expecting so many, or such long spears. Nor had she been expecting her very own soldiers. She stood frozen in shock for a long moment, their words not sinking in, the dagger pointing at them as if it could fend off every one of them. And the Annalea began to glisten a bit of understanding, and fury flared in her chest. Her grip on her small weapon tightened and she raised it a bit, her bare feet planted on the ground,a s if she would make a stand against the men.

"How dare you storm into MY room with out a moment's regard for your PRINCESS!" Her voice was shrill, dangerous . . but useless. She felt the tip of one of the spears poke at her furs, lightly at first, and then more insistently. Finally, after a sharp threat, she threw down the dagger like a child throwing a tantrum, her long hair flying around her in her fury. The soldiers laughed at her useless show, and one of them speared her warm furs and managed to catch a fold so that they could jerk the warmth right form her, leaving her only in her shift. She screamed in anger, lurching for the furs to find a spear firmly planted between her breasts. The soldiers were all getting a good laugh as she looked down at the sharp, dangerous head on the weapon. Her breath hissed through her teeth and she raised her head, her nose in the air as she finally assented to go with them.

There was no glass in the windows of the corridors, and so Annalea found herself freezing as she trod barefoot through the stone castle to the throne room. She wrapped her arms around her ample bosom, her small, 5'2" frame pulling straighter as she gave up warmth for pride. Her teeth ground with every step, until at last she stood in the throne room. She felt the heel of a hand hit her square between the shoulders, knocking the air from her and sending her sprawling to the floor. She caught herself on her hands just as she hit her knees, crying out in surprise in rage. As she started to throw herself back to her feet in a tantrum she found the circle of pointed spears within a breath of her flesh in a complete circle. She gave a cry of anger and slapped the floor, her eyes finally rising to take in the room. Her husband was on one side of her, cowering in fear like the yellow bellied moron that he was. Her father was on the other side of her, crumpled in pain from arthritis, angry but to old to be anything but broken.

She finally lifted her eyes to the throne and her breath hissed through her teeth sharply again as she breathed in quickly, then let out a heathenish cry, "YOU!"

Had the spear points not suddenly jumped even closer, close enough that she felt the cold steel against her flesh in a number of places, she would have lurched to her feet and attacked her brother herself. Never mind that his sword rested within inches of his hand.

"You have done all of this!? I knew it was a mistake to have Father banish you, he should have KILLED you!"

 

[Methos]

The smirk that graced Brand’s lips was rather insufferably smug. He sat rather comfortably ensconced upon the castle’s throne, his head crowned and his enemies were all surrounded by his warriors before him. The rage that his sister demonstrated only seemed to cheer him. He grinned evidently enjoying himself thoroughly. “Ah yes, the gang is all here now.” The warrior smiled as he noted “And yes, me.” He remarked with a great deal of satisfaction. With rather good humour he cocked and eyebrow “Were you expecting someone else?” He inquired as he rose from the throne. His sword was held rather loosely in his hand as he strolled towards where the prisoners were held at sword point.

He stopped first in front of the clearly agitated monarch. He sighed faintly as he noted “Father…” He seemed to consider things briefly as he noted “You know as well as I do that there can only be one king. I regret that it has come to this. Though I can only say I do not see this as solely of my making.” He gestured to a guard “Put a sword in his hand. I’ll see him have a warrior’s death. He is my father, I owe him that.” a sword was placed in the king’s hand though in his weakened state he could only partly raise it. With a rather solemn look crossing his features his arm rather violently thrust forward and he ran his blade into the king’s gullet and watched as the blade fell from the old king’s hand to the floor. His blood draining from him as he slowly slumped.

He sighed and shook his head and thereafter turned towards Alfred. “You I’m not going to feel bad about killing.” Thus with out any great degree of ceremony several sets of hands grabbed the man and pushed him into a kneeling position. Thereafter with his blade yet whet with the king’s blood, his sword would ascend and then descend like a clever towards the sobbing man’s neck. Gore sprayed forth as the blade crashed through flesh and crunched against bone. A sickening thud followed as the man’s head hit the ground.

With his blade dripping with blood he turned towards Annalea and remarked “Now I hope you’re pleased with yourself, look what you made me do. I had to kill our father.” He stated in a rather irked tone. Although he didn’t have any apparent regret in killing her husband. He idly let the tip of his sword trace through the air before her. Droplets of fresh crimson blood would idly splatter her face an the ground before her. “Now the problem with having asked father to kill me, would have been much the same as trying to have me exiled sister. People would not have gone along with it.” He idly noted “In case you haven’t noticed they decided I should be king.”

Casually the blade would press to the arch of her throat as he noted “And I’d suggest you adopt a far more conciliatory tone princess. If you haven’t noted it’s the people on your side dying right now.” He smirked as he idly let that blade slide along he throat, the pressure he applied just shy of what would be needed to draw blood. “After all this is the part where you beg for your life and for forgiveness for all your transgressions against me.” He stated in a rather wry tone.

 

[Fetish Kitten]

"Father!!" Annalea screamed as she watched her father slump forward. She started to move again, and yet again the spears tightened. SHe felt tears burn her eyes, but she forced them back. She would not show weakness, not to her half-blood brother. She watched as he crossed in front of her and stood before her husband. She knew what was coming. And in this she held her tongue. It was no secret that she held no love for her husband, her was just a man to sit in the throne beside her. Still, she gasped and covered her mouth in disgust as she watched his head fall, turning her face away in disgust.

When Brand came to stop before her, she found herself looking up at him. She would not admit fear, but as her hair fell away from her shoulders, and her father and husband's mixed blood fell upon her faced, she found she was trembling with more than fury. Disgust and anger where momentarily tempered, and ultimately flared, by her fear. Her brother's sword touched her throat, and she felt her breath catch in her chest. She started to pull back and yet felt the spears between her shoulders and at the base of her skull.

Her bother's tone made her fists clench, and his words made her scream in anger.

"I will never beg you for anything!" She spat at his sword, trying to ignore the tension of the men surrounding him. She felt oddly as though they would kill her willingly, and she tensed more. She raised her hand and slapped it against the flat of her brother's blade, risking that it would cut her in the process. batting it away quickly. She felt the tension grow in her immediate vicinity.

"You can not harm me, I am the crown princess. If I die, your hold on the crown will be feeble. True, loyal men and women will see that you have killed their beloved king and his chosen heir, and they will rise against you. You will not keep the throne for long." SHe seemed smug in this conclusion, her chin rising defiantly. Her frigid blue eyes bore into her brother's face as she spat the next words, "No one will acknowledge a whore's son of being king."

Had she had any sense, she would have stopped speaking while her tongue was still attached to her head, but sense, and the ability to temper her rage, were never attributes that the princess had ever been gifted with.

"And when you die, I will bathe in your blood."

 

[Methos]

Brand listened to he scream in anger and declare her defiance. He smirked as he idly remarked “God you are a bitch aren’t you?” A laugh from the men surrounding him accompanied that particular statement as it seemed to be a rather widely shared sentiment. “As for you never begging anything from me - well that we shall have to see.” He observed perhaps in an all too sanguine manner. His lips twitched as he leaned in towards her.

“I beg to differ Anna. I could chop off you’re head right here and now and not a man here would challenge my right to do so.” He smiled to her as he noted “In fact I rather think they’re waiting for it and think its rather inevitable.” A rumble of voices suggested that this was indeed the case. “But you are right Anna - I am a whoreson.” He stated with mirth entering his voice “I’m one whoreson and right bastard not one man here wants to find on the other side of a shield wall.” Laughter seemed to accompany his own.

Brand seemed to consider the matter “What say you all - is this whoreson your king?” A cheer went up and spears were drummed against shield and feet were stamped in approval. “Then I name myself king by election.” His sword slide from Annalea to point over at the corpse of his father. “And I name myself king a second time by right of conquest.” Then a rather dark smile graced his lips as he noted “And I name myself king thrice by right of marriage.”

A priest was shoved forwards through the crowd and thereafter Brand casually pointed his blade at Annalea and remarked “Now would be when you accept Anna, else I’m quite content to take my chances with rebellion and you should make your peace with god.” Somehow it struck him as more cruel to leave this as her only means to survive than to simply kill her outright. After all in death she wouldn’t have to suffer the humiliation of having been kept alive as surety for his rule.

The priest looked slightly dismayed that he was being expected to officiate over something which seemed to vary from hostage taking to potential execution to wedding within the course of seconds. Although the man saw two dead bodies and angry warriors all around him. Quite naturally the fellow simply cleared his throat and rocked on his heels waiting to see what part he had to play in this. Brand himself rather drolly noted “Limited time offer Anna, I can’t put your head back on your shoulders if you change your mind.”

 

[Fetish Kitten]

Annalea spat at her brother again, but this time, she had no harsh words for him. Her eyes widened at the concept, at the possibility that she had somehow- in her defiance- given him this idea. That she was now doomed to either die, or marry her own half blood brother. Any child she would bear would be a quarter bastard, and if she chose to bear one outside of wedlock it would be entirely bastard. She felt her hands shaking again, this time purely out of fury. She had been backed into a corner she could not push her way out of. But perhaps, she thought, if she consented to the marriage she would get the chance, at some later time, to kill her husband, the king, and take her rightful place.

She continued to tremble as she raised her chin just the slightest higher, catching the sight of her late husband's head out of the corner of her eyes. She momentarily imagined her own head rolling across the floor and shuddered, horrified by the image of her body slumping to the floor. Her eyes narrowed as she lifted them back to her brother. It was obvious that, in her mind, this was far from over, but she gave one curt nod to signify her assent.

"You had better sleep with that sword by your side, brother, because one night I will slip into your chamber and slit your throat."

As the men around her moved back to allow her to stand, she pulled herself to her feet. The men continued to back away, leaving her to stand alone with her brother. She tried not to notice his height, over a foot taller than her own, or the broad, strong build of his body. She refused to feel weak, insignificant. Especially not beside her bastard brother.

For a moment her relation to him slipped through her mind. He was her senior by nearly seven years. His father had respected and, she imagined, even loved her brother. She was mildly surprised, in retrospect, that her brother had seemed to have felt the same way. And now, here she was, about to enter into wedlock with her own murdering, treacherous blood.

She turned to the priest suddenly, ignoring her captor's presence, a smirk suddenly on her face as she but out her realization in a sharp voice, "This man is my blood, my kin. You can not marry us, or god will frown upon you and you will burn in the depths of hell."

She felt quite smug with that idea, quite elated as the words slipped free of her mouth.

"You see, your holiness, if you care at all for your eternal soul, you should rather die than do what this man demands of you."

 

[Methos]

Her fury amused him and he could see her seeming to shake from it. Brand simply smirked as he thought whatever else his half sister might say he knew that she wouldn’t choose her own death. The woman was a snake whom he would keep caged, until he broke her into a more pliable animal much like he would a wild horse. His dark eyes remained upon her as she nodded her assent. He wasn’t particularly surprised by her threats to kill him and he idly remarked “I love you too dearest.” In a mocking tone.

Naturally Annalea was too much of a fool to leave well enough alone. Brand simply looked irked by her prattling about how she couldn’t possibly be married to him as they were related by blood. As she tried to advise the priest of how he should go about his job, Brand raised his sword and the hilt of his sword was brought down rather forcefully upon her temple. The much larger warrior laid a sound blow upon the side of her head and gave a sigh of satisfaction as he did so. “Ah now that was every bit as good as I imagined it feeling.”

He idly noted “Now priest, I think you know as well as I that unusual times call for unusual actions.” Rather humbly he noted “I should agree with her in most circumstances that this is wrong.” Casting a gaze at his sister he was rather convincing having just struck her in saying “I take no joy in this action and find it a burden to shoulder. But as she said by doing this I likely spare the kingdom further bloodshed and civil war.” He shook his head and noted “Therefore it is what my father would want me to do, and I dare say what god should want of me is it not father? Would they both not wish peace?”

He was a clever bastard and now he noted “Thus I think this is the case where you shall have to grant me dispensation to marry in what would otherwise be a sinful fashion.” He smirked as he idly noted “For this shall be my cross to bear for my people.” Whether his words or the fact that he had a rather large number of armed men standing around him ready to kill anyone they perceived as enemies swayed the fellow he eventually remarked “I…think under the circumstances you are right. This is an usual case and not unprecedented in the holy writings where they spoke in the most ancient times of such things transpiring.”

The priest idly began to run through the standard ceremonials although hastily adding that the requirements regarding blood relations were dispensed with in the interests of peace, reconciliation and the harmonious governance of the kingdom. He rambled on rather nervously and then inquired of Brand whether he meant to marry the woman there with him and he rather curtly said “Yes.” Thereafter he posed the same question to Annalea, although the man’s voice seemed to shake while doing so. Brand had after all pointed his sword at his sister and hissed “Marriage or death?”

 

[Fetish Kitten]

Annalea felt smug as she watched the priest grow agitated, but that stopped the second she felt the blunt end of her brother's sword at her temple. She cried out and staggered to teh side, her hand flying uyp to the wounded temple, he vision spotted for a moment. SHe felt someone move in to grab her arm, rough, strong hands painfully grabbing the upper curve of her arm to hold her on her feet. The hand let go a moment later when she was steady and her brother had finished his convincing little speech.

Annalea felt the tears in her eyes this time, coming unbidden from teh sharp pain. She jerked her head to her brother, and by the time her senses regained themselves, the priest was halfway through the ceremony. She ground her teeth as he brother stated his affirmation in his intent to marry his sister, and when it came down to her turn to answer, she against found his sword point uncomfortably near her person.

"Yes." She muttered the word through clenched teeth, and the priest sighed with relief. She felt like screaming, or sobbing, although she tended more towards the screaming side. She turned on her brother suddenly, glaring up at him. Her husband. She felt a sickness at the thought. SHe did not think to step away form him as she heard the priest speak one last time.

"You may now . . " he stuttered, " you may now k-kiss the br-bride."

Her eyes grew wide and she turned to the priest with fury in her eyes, she looked as though she were about to lunge at him, to rip his throat out. Her hair whipped around her in golden streaks as she turned back to her brother, clenching her fists, ready to his him if he closed the distance.

"Don't-you-even-dare-" Each word was spoken slowly and surely through grinding teeth. Her entire body was would like wire as she took one pointed step back. There were no spears to stop her now, but she suddenly became unfomfortably aware of her brother's reach, his arm length was immense compared to hers. Her breath shuddered, "I mean it- I marrie dyou I will NOT kiss you! You have your title and your crown and-"

She found herself unable to finish.

 

[Methos]

Brand smirked as his sister had to be held up for the better part of her second wedding. Pity for the poor girl that this time around she was going to be run rather than the other way around. But things went along about as smoothly as one could expect, as she seemed to weep from either frustration, the pain of having her skull rapped rather forcefully or some combination of the two. Eventually she got around to confirming that she would consent to marry her brother. He nodded once the words were said, for once said they could not be taken back.

Brand held that bloody sword in one hand. He’d set his shield away over the course of the ceremony. Thus his other arm was quite free. He heard the priest invite him to kiss the bride and he grinned wolfishly as she backed away from him he moved closer to her. His hand shot out to grab her by the shoulder and rather forcefully yank her over towards him. Thereafter, he’d lean all the way down towards her and kiss her rather roughly. He’d force his lips upon hers an thereafter he’d hiss “Now come along wife - you don’t want everyone to have to watch me beat you right after your wedding do you?”

Whatever difficulties he might have with the fact he was now married to his sister, he was going to take a rather perverse joy in what followed. The smug look on his face that greeted her as he noted “Oh indeed I do have my kingdom and my title.” His lips twitched as he noted “But now I need to consummate my marriage.” Rather than leaving her with any choice in the matter he sought to slip one rather brawny arm around her waist and to lift her from her feet.

Laughter would glimmer in his dark eyes as he sought to carry her from the throne room towards his own bedroom. The newly crowned king carried his undoubtedly overjoyed wife down the hallway as he noted the tears streaming from her eyes. “Ahh you’re one of those that always cries at weddings hmm?” He manhandled her with rather apparent ease, considering size and strength lay wholly and utterly to his advantage. He’d drag her through the door of his bedroom and toss her down upon the bed. Thereafter he threw his sword down upon the floor.

His lips twitched as he remarked rather sarcastically “Now my beloved .. Its time for you to become well acquainted with your wifely duties.” He stalked towards the woman as his hand would seek to grab a hold of her. Those large paw like hands seeking to grasp her and thereafter pull her to him as he looked at her rather lustily. “And don’t fear that I shall be disappointed by your not being a maiden having already been married..” He smirked “I’m sure you’ll feel as tight as one when I fuck you in the ass.”

 

[Fetish Kitten]

Annalea couldn't back up fast enough to avoid her brother's long arms or massive grip, and as he pulled her against his chest, she found herself trembling for a different reason entirely. His mouth was hard on her, hot like her husband's had never been. She felt fresh tears run down her cheeks as he took his time with the ceremonial kiss, no amount of fists against his chest even causing him to flinch.

But it was when he pulled away and whispered to her that she truly began to fear. She began to sob as his arm wrapped around her waist, imagining what was to come. Not so much the beating, but the consummation. She hit and kicked the entire way out of the throne room, through the corridors, to his private chambers. And as he deposited her on his bed, she kicked out some more, her bare feet useless against his hard muscles. She screamed as he moved over her, grabbing her again, his voice harsh as he spoke so deprecatingly. She shook her head, her golden hair flying wildly about her as her thin white shift tore.

"No! NO!" She pounded at his chest, fury igniting her as she tried to turn beneath him to pull away. Her fear heightened all of her senses, making her more aware of his size, his strength, his smell. She whimpered as his musk flowed over her, and she found herself trembling again. There was nothing familiar in this bed chamber. Her husband has been scrawny, weak, easily controlled, swayed. He was gentle, almost timid in bed, less than pleasing and not much larger than herself.

And now, within the same night of her husband's death,s he was remarried to her brother who was large, strong, hard. And he was going to take her one way or another. He was going to rape her. She sobbed at the thought, the haughty princess temporarily broken down to a weak, sobbing woman beneath a controlling, vindictive man.

She pressed up against his hard body and found herself trapped, her legs flailing, bringing her shift up in a less than lady-like manner as she tried to clamp her legs closed. She tried not to let his words sink in as she tried to keep herself free of her new husband.

"No! I won't do this!! You can't make me! You can't DO this!" She screamed at tha top of her lungs, trying not to sob. "Let - me - go!" SHe tried to punch him, tried to at least knock the wind from his chest.

 

[Methos]

Brand felt her fists pounding against his chest, although he paid it little mind. Nor did her kicking and squirming really delay or convince him to halt as he dragged her to the bedroom. The act of carrying her off had elicited laughter from the assembled soldiers who evidently thought it a matter of high comedy that the bitch was about to get used about as gently as a two penny whore. Perhaps her brother might have been more gentle with her if she was not terribly agitating. But now, lust gleamed in his eyes and his smile seemed to indicate that Annalea faced her comeuppance,

He heard her rather vehemently protesting his intentions. Although he didn’t seem to give a damn. Rather a wolfish smile graced his lips as he remarked “Ah my dear Anna you can protest all you want.” He seemed entirely too pleased with himself as he noted “But the law says you belong to me now. I can do whatever I wish to you and its all within my rights.” His eyes gazed at her and his body leaned against her. His hand would grab a hold of that torn shift and now rather methodically he proceeded to seek to tear it fully from her to bare her body to his eyes.

He felt her fists drumming against his chest as she screamed at him in a fury. The manner in which that caused him to grin at her seemed to suggest that it was something of a turn on. Indeed as he pressed atop of her, the bulge in his pants suggested that was indeed the case. And the size of the protrusion in question was likely to prove somewhat disconcerting for the small woman. There was nothing timid about the man atop of her, indeed most would count him rather fierce.

“Time to pay the piper Anna.” He remarked with a certain glee evident in his voice. Oh how he seemed to be enjoying this. As her she squirmed beneath him and sought to press her legs rather tightly together, his hands would grasp her thighs and then press his body between them. His groin soon rubbing against her rather omniously as his gaze fell upon her. His hand began to unlace his pants and soon that long, thick, aroused shaft lanced out through the air towards her. He smiled darkly as his hips shoved forwards his tip rubbed up against the softness of her sex.

He seemed to answer her rather casually “You will do this whether you like it or not. I can make you, and clearly I can do this as I am.” He smirked “And I’m not letting you go.” His dark eyes glimmered as he noted “Just consider this the first of many occasions where I’m going to fuck you like the spoiled little bitch you’ve been your whole life.” His smile widened as he noted “Now I’m going to fuck you, you insolent little whore as many times a day as I please and all you have to look forward to from day to day is my fucking you and carrying a whoreson’s children in your belly.”

With that rather hateful statement his hips would surge and he rather brutally thrust his cock inside of her. The soft lips of her sex were forced to spread and that thick, throbbing cock was rammed within her. He forced her thighs to part further as he pressed himself inside of her. His hips smacking downwards as he claimed his sister. He thrust into her, and his head leaned down towards her to kiss her and thrust his tongue within her as well. His body pressing to her as he drove that thick phallus into her soft, womanly folds, naturally being unprepared or accustomed to one as large as he like as not to the great strain and rending of flesh within her.

 

[Fetish Kitten]

Annalea screamed as she felt her brother grab a hold of her shift and rip it further, meticulously removing it from her body. She gasped and struggled to cover herself even as she tried to beat him off of her. She heard herself sob, somewhere between despair and fury, as she tries to cover her breasts, his hands finding her thighs and spreading them forcefully.

"NO!"

Annalea's back arched as her brother ground his pants clad crotch against her, and she bit her lip. She tried to twist beneath him as he unlaced his breeches, but found him pressing down on her again as he freed himself from the constraints of his pants. She sobbed as he taunted her, pushing his cock against her heat. She shook her head in disgust and fear, denial coursing through her entire body. And then she screamed louder than she had ever screamed before.

As she felt his cock lance inside of her she thought she might be splitting in two. She screamed again with his next thrust as he buried himself on her warmth, and tears streaked her face as her fists stopped beating his chest and instead tangled in his shirt. Her back arched drastically, her breasts pressed up against him as he muffled her cries with his mouth. She did not bother to fight his kiss as he forced his tongue inside of her mouth, her body forcing itself further onto his shaft as it reacted in pain.

Annalea's vision narrowed as she felt him move in and out of her body, making her raw as he tore her open with his less than gentle movements. She wanted to fight, wanted to rip him in two, but she found herself hardly able to breathe as she was taken, forced upon, raped by her brother- her husband.

Her long gold hair splayed out around her on the bed, her cold blue eyes were clouded with pain and the sparking of fear that had never graced them before. And yet, through all the pain and the misery, and humiliation her body was reacting in kind to his. Her sex grew wet with every thrust, her nipples grew hard from the cold and the sensation of his clothing rubbing against them, and as she struggled her tongue fought his in a way akin to returning his kiss.

Ahe still sobbed, but not even her own repulsion would stop her body from welcoming him, not even as he hurt her.

 

[Methos]

Brand heard her screaming her protests rather loudly as he body was rendered naked and entirely vulnerable to his attentions. Her shift had been stripped away to leave her pale form exposed to his eyes, and hungrily they slide over that pleasantly rounded form. His eyes lingering upon her chest and the pleasant curve of her thigh. He felt that soft skin and flesh beneath him now as he lay atop of her. Her screams filled his ears as the smell of her would fill his nostrils. His hands roamed rather boldly over her, moving as they would as his fingers indulged themselves in the ripeness of her form.

Yet there was nothing gentle or kind in the manner in which he took her. Rather there was a forceful downward pounding of his hips. His hips rising and then falling in that rather primal act of pistoning his cock inside of her. His flesh beating against her as he drove her down into the bed beneath her. He crushed her beneath him as he pushed his manhood deeper inside of her. That thick fleshy pole being rammed further into her soft channel as she arched and strained against his entry.

The rather hard muscular form that lay against her seemed rather consumed with the act he engaged in. His weight held her down and he forced her thighs apart as he rutted between her legs. His body roughly smacked down into her as he laid his claim to her. His cock lanced inside of her, rubbing against the walls of her sex that grew raw from the force and size which they were met with. Zealously he pounded his cock into her, the sound of body striking body and the creek of the headboard could be easily heard as he took her. His mouth forcefully pressing to her, so her lips would taste his own and feel the warmth of his breath falling upon her.

Dark eyes gleamed as they looked down into her own blue pools, he felt her tongue press to his and with each thrust he began to feel the dampness of her sex welcoming him inside of her. As he stretched her the head of his cock was beginning to repeatedly strike against her cervix as he filled her utterly and entirely. He’d smack the head of his cock against that barrier, threatening to press past it with the rather lewd manner in which his hips ground into her.

His lips parted from her own, his breath warm and his eyes gleaming as he murmured “No sooner do I make you my whore than you give up screams of no to squirming and kissing back.” He meant to taunt her with that as his mouth would envelope her own once more. Forcefully kissing her as his hips rocked into her. His pace increased slightly as he sought to constantly drill the head of his shaft into her cervix a steady string of hard thrusts were levelled into her. Pumping himself into her depths and not only stretching her but painfully striking that barrier again and again and again within short succession.

 

[Fetish Kitten]

Annalea screamed and sobbed beneath him the first time the head of his cock punched against her cervix, a sharp pain shooting through her body. Her husband had never been rough with her, and had not been large enough to get so deep inside of her. She felt her tears roll over her cheeks and into her hair as she twisted his shirt in her hands, hoping to rip and ruin the fabric. Her entire body trembled beneath him, need and fear and pure anger battling for control as her hips rocked to meet his even as she squirmed to be free of him.

His body was heavy atop hers, harder that she ever could have imagined, crushing the air form her lungs as he thrust deeper and harder inside of her, rutting between her legs like one of the hunting dogs atop a bitch in heat. As he pulled away she shook her head back and forth, denying his words, his accusations. And she screamed as he accused of enjoying his attentions, of kissing him back. As he leaned down to kiss her again she reached her hand up to slap him, her anger spiking.

His hands on her body were large, warm and rough. She could feel the calluses that the sword brought to his hands, they brought goosebumps to her flesh everywhere that they traced. She squirmed beneath him as his hands ran over her full breasts, as they traced the curve of her waist into the dip of her stomach. She found herself trembling just from his touch as she fought to cease her sobbing.

It was the pain from his driving thrusts that gave her the fighting edge, that reminded her who she was with, what was happening. Her hands reached up as she fought against him futilely, pushed deeper into the bed by his large body. Her fingers traced the back of his neck for a moment, running up the sides of his scalp until they tangled in his hair and she grabbed, filling her fists with his dark locks and yanking with all her strength. She wanted to pull his mouth from hers, she wanted to ruin his pleasure in any way she could, she wanted to hurt him the way he was hurting her.

She yanked once, twice, three times, determined to hurt him as much as she could, and at the moment that was teh only way accessible to her.

 

[Methos]

He heard Annalea screaming as he used her rather viciously. Each deep thrust was levelled into her as he felt he felt her hips beginning to rise up to meet his own. Although her squirming would utterly fail to get her away from him, for thick arms were to either side of her and the weight of his body pinned her down to the bed beneath her. He watched her struggle and squirm beneath him but there was no escaping him for she was speared upon his prick and his body continued to press itself fast to her with the constant penetration of that soft sex.

Although he wasn’t a dog atop a bitch in heat, he was definitely atop a bitch. He took a certain satisfaction in hearing her scream and her head being shook rather vehemently as though to deny what she had been doing a moment before. Although he smirked as he remarked “Oh I can feel your sex getting wet you filthy blonde bitch.” He let his lips twitch as he remarked “Horny for a belly full of a whoreson’s seed aren’t you?” He sneered at her as he noted “You like it slut.”

His hands roamed over her body pressing into that soft flesh. His hands tightened upon chest as he rather roughly groped her. His fingers kneading into her flesh and then roaming down to her thigh and fondling the curve of her ass in turn. His lips formed a rather dark smile as he looked down at her, his pleasure evident as her that smug triumph would seem to be heralded by each jarring collision of his hips into her.

He felt her fingers grabbing the back of his head and pulling upon his hair. Irritation flashed upon his features as he looked down at her. As she wrenched upon his hair he raised his hand and thereafter rather roughly smacked one hand aside. Thereafter, that same hand would bring the back of it down across the side of her face. His eyes flashed as he said “Know your place whore.” He smirked as he added “Which happens to be beneath me.”

His hand moved to her throat and strong calloused digits slid about her throat. His fingers would tighten about her neck as they began to squeeze and choke her. His grip tightened as he’d cut off the supply of air she had and at the same time he drove his hips into her. He pounded his prick into her, thus as she’d feel the onset of suffocation she’d feel the jabbing pain of his cock being spiked into the very depth of her soft, moistening channel.

 

[Fetish Kitten]

Anna screamed as she felt the hand come across her face. Her wrist stung where he had hit her a moment before, but the pain in her face was much sharper, there would be a bruise by morning. She stared up at him in shock, for a long moment not crying out or struggling. SHe had never been hit before, let alone hard enough to leave a mark like that would leave. Tears began to roll down her face as she spit up at him, digging her fingernails into his neck and drawing them down his chest, ripping at his shirt and flesh. SHe aimed for one of his nipples as she drew lines of blood down his skin.

She was more surprised, though, when his hand wrapped around her throat. She gasped and began to struggle again, her hands jumping to his wrist as her breathing first became difficult, then began stop cease completely. She arched beneath him, burying his cock deep enough inside of her that the pain made her scream a soundless scream, her throat raw. She felt tears pouring faster down her cheeks as she fought for air, feeling his cock brutally abuse her insides. She arched harder as she fought against him, her movements becoming more sluggish the longer her cut off her air, fear beginning to seep into her eyes. Fear that he would indeed get rid of her, here and now as he consummated their marriage.

"S----st---op .. . " She shuddered form his touch, from the weight of him, crushing her as she found it harder and harder to fight him. She did not want to stop fighting, punishing him for what he was doing, but if she did not save her strength she would be dead, and then she would never be able to properly punish him for all his crimes.

She felt herself sob soundlessly, afraid of what he might do, subconsciously pushing herself up harder on his cock, her body tightening around him, milking his cock for his seed.

 

[Methos]

Brand smirked as he watched tears stream down her face. The look on her face of surprise that he’d responded by striking her was rather priceless. The princess had spent her entire life getting her way, now to rather forcefully be slapped down and essentially put in her place was likely a rather rude awakening for the woman. “What’s the matter princess - being queen not all you thought it would be?” There was a sarcastic tone to his voice as he felt her nails tearing at his shirt and skin. Adrenaline surged through him as he had his way with her to the point the barely felt her nails as they dug into his chest and shoulders.

His hand pressed tightly about her neck and undoubtedly his fingers would begin to mark her neck with their presence. His hand clenched tightly about her, slowly cutting the flow of air into her. As he held her neck, easily he could simply have tightened his hand and crushed her windpipe and ended things there and then. But he held her throat tight enough that she gasped and struggled for air as she wept. His grip was calculated to slowly inflict pain and leave her feeling frightened and so very, very helpless beneath him.

Even as he toyed with her throat, his hips heavily smacked into her. Their collision with her form and the rock of their bodies together as she arched to take him deeper within produced rather gratifying screaming. He smiled darkly, and rather mercilessly his prick was buried deeper within her. He sought to force every last inch of his shaft inside her. His hips ground down rather lewdly into her body as filled her with that throbbing fleshy rod.

To kill her now might be satisfying after a fashion, but death was too good for her. It would end her suffering and humiliation far before he was prepared to let it go. Thus as he noted a slight sluggishness about her his grip eased to let air rush into her lungs. Although his thumb would stroke up and down along her throat as he did so. That thick digit pressed down slightly as it slid back and forth. Its pressure just enough to seem menacing as he allowed her to regain her breath.

As he felt her svelte form pushing herself upon him and those taunt walls of her sex tightening and squeezing in a milking motion his hips churned downwards to drive his cock into those greedy folds. His body pressed to her and his pace would begin to heighten, desire was evident in his eyes as his body flush with her rather eagerly sought the gratification those gripping folds promised as pleasure coursed through him.

 

[Fetish Kitten]

Anna gasped and struggled some as air painfully exploded into her lungs, the feeling of his thumb running up and down her throat terrifying, a reminder of his strength and power over her. She hear herself sob as he grinned maliciously down on her, pounding her sex with his large tool. As he began to trust faster she began to scream with every thrust, her body countering him by tightening more.

Suddenly she threw her head to the side and closed her eyes. SHe didn't want to see him any more. Her new husband. She could see her father in him, but she could also see his whore of a mother. She saw herself too, in those cruel eyes. She felt ashamed that her body was reacting to him, angered that some part of her was enjoying him. Her hands pressed up on his chest futiley, and she felt the ache in both her neck where his hand had so dangerously tightened, and in her face where he had hit her.

She found that the thought of his hands were frightening. She had never been abused in her life, she had never known that a man's hands could be so hard, so cruel. She trembled at teh thought, her entire body arching to his as she sobbed again , her hands curling to fists in anger at the action. She felt helpless and weak beneath him, but some part of her enjoyed the way his hard body felt on top of hers, the manly way he smelled. She felt the urge to bury her face against him and smell him, to taste him and she screamed in anger, punching him in teh chest with all her strength as he speared into her, making her scream again.

She could feel her body milking his, and she sobbed louder, knowing that soon she would be filled with his seed. She wondered,if under his rule, she could still get the teas that aborted a husband's seed within the early days. She sobbed at the thought that he might make it impossible for her to get such remedies.

"Ah- stop!"

She screamed before she even realized what she was doing, and she choked on the end of the cry, trying to stop herself, gasping and sobbing at her own seakness. SHe would not beg.

 

[Methos]

His hips were rather firmly bucking into her. Each smack of flesh meeting flesh filling both their ears as he drove his prick inside her. He felt her curling up and tightening around him. That delicious tension offering him surging amounts of pleasure that in turn heightened the rather relentless pace at which he thrust his cock within her. Eagerly and rather intense he sought that looming release. Thrust after heavy thrust were levelled into the hips and soft thighs of her body, he pressed his prick into the grip of that milking shaft delighting in her body\s desire to pleasure him. While he felt her body shudder and squirm as she screamed beneath him.

With a deep thrust that buried his shaft within her a groan escaped his lips and she’d feel the tell tale twitch of his cock within her sex. Thereafter, his seed would rush forth within her. That creamy white fluid gushing forth into the milking folds of her sex. Their gripping tension eliciting strands of sticky semen that splattered over those abused folds and would pool within her belly as he came rather hard within her. His hips rose and fell atop of her, as he’d slow as his seed was coaxed from him until it the last of his load merely dribbled into her. Thereafter he’d come to a halt atop of her with a rather pleased look upon his face.

As he looked down at the princess he saw no real resemblance to himself within her. It was said she’d favoured her own mother. Although he now smirked as he noted “For an otherwise useless bitch you are a nice little piece of ass…” then with dripping sarcasm he noted “Oh blushing bride of mine.” With mock fondness he leaned in and kissed her lips lightly as he added “And there is far more where that came from.” He airily noted “I’m sure you’ll soon do your duty as queen and provide me with an heir. Given that I shall make a point of filling your belly like you were a prized mare to be bred.”

If she’d harboured some hope that he’d allow her to undo the effects of his seed slickening her sex and pooling within her that likely suggested that the opposite was true. Indeed the only contraceptives Brand seemed liable to allow her would be her mouth and her asshole. Although it was doubtful that that was really what she had been hoping for.

Although he smirked as he noted “I think the part of this that you will hate the most at least at first Anna is that however much you glare at me - you liked it.”

 

[Fetish Kitten]

Anna screamed and sobbed as she felt him bury himself completely inside of her as his cock twitched. SHe imagined that she could feel his seed emptying inside of her and she sobbed again, her entire body trembling beneath him as he rocked his hips, working himself slowly inside of her, making sure that she took everything he gave her. SHe turned her head from him again, only to find his lips on hers, kissing her in some mocking version of a lover's gentle kiss.

She reached up and pushes against him as he continues to lay atop her, both complimenting and insulting her in one instant, and confirming her fears that he would want a child immediately. SOme part of her hoped that she was unable to give him children, but she knew that would shorten her lifespan exceptionally.

She reached up as he smirked down on her, mocking her body's reactions to his attentions, and as he scorned her she let loose and smacked him across the face.

"I will never enjoy your foul body, and I will kill any child I bear you- it will be showing them a mercy, the poor basterd's children." SHe spat at him, seeking to have vengeance in the only way she could think of just then, with words, but she quickly regretted it, before she even saw the anger mix with the mirth in his eyes. Still, rather than apologize to save herself whatever punishment he devised, she spit up at his face and tried to jerk out from underneath him.

"Now get your foul body off of me and let me go back to my own bed. I refuse to sleep here with you."

 

[Methos]

The newly crowned king gazed down at her as she pushed against his form. It had a rather comical look to it as the woman was diminutive as compared to himself. The warrior hulking frame was more than a foot taller than hers and like as not weighed more than two and a half times her weight. Thus she shoved at his form at it was as though a child sought to move a boulder. He seemed rather amused as he simply lay casually atop of her. His shaft remained buried inside of her as he seemed disinclined to be dislodged.

She struck him and he simply grabbed a handful of her hair, rather roughly pulling upon it as he ranked her head towards him so that he stared her right in the eyes. Irritation flashed within those dark orbs as he growled. “You had your chance to die girl.” He stated “Instead you chose to be owned by me.” He leaned in the few scant inches that lay between them so that his forehead pressed right up against her as he stated “This is the bed you chose to lay in. Whatever your talk, you fear death and you fear me as the bringer of it so you’ll do as I bloody well tell you and be a good little brood mare.”

His hand casually groped her ass as he noted “I’m not going anywhere. I think I shall sleep like this.” His lips formed a smirk as he noted “I’m rather comfortable and find it convenient that when I shall feel like fucking you again, your right here for me just waiting to be claimed again.” His fingers pressed into her lecherously as he noted “And that will be soon enough.”

His eyes gleamed as he noted “Perhaps I should send for your hand-maidens to attend upon you.” He said rather casually “I’m sure you would like to have them here to watch as I raped your ass.” He stated rather blithely “I’m sure they would be most sympathetic as an audience given your kind treatment towards them. I’m sure they’d have comforting things to tell you as you felt your ass bleed as it was ripped by my dick and then dripping with my seed.”

 

[Fetish Kitten]

Anna cried out as she felt his hand tangle in her hair, tears rolling down her cheeks as he body manhandled her. She trembled as his forehead touched hers, and he made very clear his assertiveness. She wanted to look away form him, but she was unable as she sobbed, her hands going weak against his chest. She hated the feeling of being pinned beneath him, even as she shuddered from it.

She trembled at his awareness of her fear of death at his hand, and said nothing. She was terrified, certainly. Who would not be. SHe blinked back more tears until he continued, offering to call her hand maids to attend to her, and she clutched on to his shirt, tryign to shake her head, reminded painfully of his hand in her hair.

"No!" SHe trembled beneath him, her eyes wide before dropping. SHe felt shame for submitting to him, even under duress, with a lack of any choice, "No, please don't do that!" She knew, for a certainty, that every one of her personal maids hated her. That she had been cruel to them, if not in the same way her brother was now being cruel to her, than in a fashion just as cruel if not less personal.

She trembled at the touch of his rough hand on her ass, and felt herself pulled harder against him. She pulled her head down some,a gain reminded of his hand in her hair, and she cowered. The thought of him ripping into her ass was . . . horrifying. She swallowed hard, forcing herself with every ounce of wills he had not to beg him to have mercy, not to beg him not to take her ass.

It wasn't a matter of jsut pride, either, she knew he would enjoy her pleas. SHe knew he would get hard hearing them. She clenched her fists against him but said nothing, for the first time since he had raided her bedroom, falling completely silent.

 

[Methos]

Brand leaned in and kissed her lightly. His lips brushing against her own. “No? I think they should like to see it.” He smiled “The way you carry on with everyone, thinking you have but to stamp your little foot and scream and the world shall adjust itself to your liking. I think they would like to hear you scream.” He kissed her against and his teeth bit down upon her lower lip, tugging up on it rather firmly before he finally let it go. “I think they would like to see you bleed.”

He was quite aware of how her eyes lowered and how she shivered as his fingers greedily pressed into her ass. “I think I shall call for them so they can see it.” He smiled “Your sex was so tiny and tight, I can just imagine how your ass is going to feel. Its going to be hard to fit it in there. But it will work with a bit of doing.” His hand rather roughly fondled that swell of flesh as he noted “I’ll just have to push and push as you scream as I stretch you open to take it all in.”

“Yes, and you’d see every last one of them smirking as it happened to you. Perhaps some of them would even laugh. Although a few might feel sorry for you. I think that would bother you more wouldn’t it to have the pity of those you scorn?” He idly noted “And for days afterwards they’d all so kindly ask if you needed a cushion to sit on. Each time with a knowing smile and a rather snide tone.” He idly noted “Not a one of them seeing you as nearly so high and mighty then hmm?”

“Now my dear Anna is when you beg.” His hand tightened on the cheek of her ass as he noted. “For you have all of five minutes to convince me that I shouldn’t rape your ass before your attendants.” He smirked “In truth the idea of doing so is starting to turn me on.” He remarked “So you had best beg the privilege of sharing my bed and otherwise entertaining me least I decide to sate my want in that tight little ass of yours.”

“Now be a good little wife and beg for the privilege of an opportunity to please me or I will humiliate you and once your handmaidens tongues wag everyone will know how you balled and pleaded for mercy while your ass was ravaged, even though you seemed to kind of like it.”

 

[Fetish Kitten]

Anna sobbed as he kissed her softly, taunting her, tormenting. She sobbed as he bit at her lip, telling her all the horrible things he wanted to do to her ass, enjoying her terror as he spoke so sweetlyof her attendant's pleasure at her pain. Tears streamed down her face, and when he finally stopped kissing her she tucked her head down, one hand coming up to cover her face as she sobbed, ahrdly containing herself.

She looked up at him as he gripped her ass tightly, and she wondered if that would be one more bruise as he demanded that she beg, and as she trembled beneath him, she knew she had no choice. She sobbed again as she shook her head, half denying what he wanted, half denying what he would do if she didn't give him everything he demanded.

"Please no," She trembled, "please don't bring them in here, please don't rape my- my . . .ass." She seemed to have ahard time with the concept at first, but just saying it brought on a fresh wave of sobs and trembling and she found herself pressing agianst his chest as she begged him, "Please, husband, please forgive me. Please, let me slepe in your bed, let me keep you warm with my body, let me sleep against you. Please do not cast me out to my own cold, lonely chambers."

She sobbed again, pressing her face against his chest, her tears salting where she had scratched him earlier, and soaking through his tattered shirt, "Please, husband, please let me give you all that you desire. Let me please you with my body. I- I will do anything that you wish. I will spread my legs for you," She sobbed harder, "I will offer you my mouth . . . please, please do not humiliate me in front of my handmaids." She forced herself to look up at him as she clutched at his torn shirt, sobbing.

"Please, brother . . . husband . . I will do anything to please you. Let me take your seed and bear your children. Let me warm your bed each night, so that my body is here, ready for your pl- . . pleasure."

She broke down into sobs so uncontrollable that she could no longer speak, but she began unwinding herself under him so that she was more open to him, loosening her tense body, making herself more welcoming. Praying that she was giving him what she wanted, humiliated and degraded. The undercurrent of her rage squashed beneath her fear of him, and he fear of her own handmaids wagging tongues.