A Lady or a Cock Whore? Ch. 02

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Arya gets her first (albeit reluctant) taste of cock
3.7k words
4.16
48.9k
18

Part 2 of the 14 part series

Updated 06/10/2023
Created 04/04/2013
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gaelen33
gaelen33
78 Followers

Arya's second encounter with a brigand happened when she was nineteen.

Most girls had their social debut closer to 16 years old, but Arya's was late due to a combination of impediments. She was 19 by the time it came around, and part of her wished she could have held it off a bit longer, if not forever. In a month's time she would be officially presented at court as an eligible young woman seeking a husband, and the only positive about the situation was that she would finally visit Veras, the land's capital city. She had lived her life in Parnage, a small back water estate which was wealthy, but remote.

She had been trained for this moment for her entire life, and was confident in her ability to perform well in high society. Despite all the preparation, the expectations and urging of her family, Arya had no interest in becoming a wife. She honestly wished at times that she was ugly so that she would have the "privilege" of never marrying anyone. But Arya recognized that she was attractive enough to be desired by at least the average nobleman, and her substantial dowery would ensure that she married even above that - despite the fact that she had no noteworthy skill with which to distinguish herself from the flock of other young ladies.

The only distinguishing factor that Arya had to be proud of was the fact that she was cleverer than most, which would certainly help with navigating the convoluted social dynamics of Veras. But it was nothing she could boast of to a potential suitor. What man would want a wife who bragged about her intelligence?

Still, her tutors told Arya that it would prove to be a worthwhile trait, explaining that it would allow her to draw on resources and opportunities that others might miss. Early on they had abandoned the idea of helping Arya win distinction with skills in music or art, instead helping her hone her social skills. By teaching her how to maneuver in the social sphere with a high level of mastery, Arya would be better able to use tactics that allowed her to marry even higher up the social ladder. They called it "strategizing".

Idiocy is what she called it. She had no interest in the art of manipulation.

It was a cold, clear morning when Arya departed from her home. With many older siblings already having made their debut, Arya's journey to Veras was conducted with little fanfare. She was the bottom rung, the scrapings at the end of the barrel, and she knew it. It helped ease some of the pressure, and her nerves were further appeased by the knowledge that along with two of her favorite tutors as well as a few foot soldiers, she was to be accompanied by her brother, Luc.

All bundled up in warm traveling clothes, Arya said goodbye to her parents and sisters. They were a kind family overall and she would miss them, but she bade her fondest farewell to Weyn, who was soon to leave on a journey of his own.

"When I see you next you will be a priest, and me a wife. I wish you all the luck in the world, and I hope that when we meet again we are as happy as we have been in Parnage together," she whispered hoarsely, trying not to cry.

He wrapped her in a bear hug, his eyes tearful as well. "I will miss you, dear Arya. I know you will make some man very happy, and I hope for your sake he isn't old and fat."

She laughed, then climbed into the carriage before she started to weep in earnest.

Grieving for her past would do no good, she knew, and there was nothing to do now but look ahead. Arya tried to focus her thoughts on the future, and find something to look forward to. Meeting extended family might be fun, she mused. She was to stay with her aunt and uncle, individuals she had never met but heard much of. Luc had told her that they were gentle, intelligent folk who did not enjoy the courtly life. She had a feeling that if Luc had grown to care for them, she would as well. They had similar taste when it came to good company, and the fact that they also preferred a country life highly recommended them to their niece.

The trip was uneventful, filled with tedious hours and sore bums from the bumpy road. The only exciting thing that happened was a bear who crossed the road. It stopped, looked at them, growled a bit, then continued on its way.

Finally, they were only two days away from Veras proper. They started passing through civilized land filled with farms and wineries and castles the likes of which Arya had never seen. She had spent her life in the mountains, living a simple life and traveling almost nowhere, and found herself enjoying every bit of the new scenery they came across, drinking it in like a man starved.

They were traveling through a long stretch of farmland interspersed with small woods when one of their carriage wheels broke. Arya groaned. It was nearly dark and there was no way they could make it to the next lodging by the time the wheel was fixed.

The men began the task of setting up camp while Madame Marguerite, one of Arya's tutors, told the girl to sit by her and work on some sewing. Arya cringed.

"Madame, I have been stuck inside sewing for days. I need to stretch my legs!"

Marguerite frowned. "Stretching one's legs is hardly ladylike, Arya."

Arya rolled her eyes.

"I also need to clean, I feel disgusting. There was a river a ways back, perhaps I could go bathe before dark?"

She held her breath, knowing Marguerite would mostly likely find that idea even more horrid, but Arya was desperate for some privacy. She had stayed in the same stupid carriage with Marguerite and several others for the entire trip and was filled with pent up sexual frustration.

Marguerite's expression became instantly severe, but before she could object Luc interjected.

"That sounds like a good plan, Arya. I will accompany you for your protection. Surely no one can object that that is not ladylike." He looked around, challenging the others to object. Marguerite frowned even more deeply, but said nothing; Luc far outranked her.

Smiling, Luc turned to Arya. "Gather what you need and let's go."

She whooped with delight, ignoring Marguerite's noises of disapproval and censure.

She quickly grabbed what she needed and they left the camp. They chatted amiably as they went, glad for some time away from the others. Arya had always felt that she was never herself unless she was alone with her brothers, and knew that they felt equally comfortable and relaxed in her presence. Though less constrained by social convention, Weyn and Luc had their own facades to uphold and no one to speak to about their feelings or true thoughts other than each other and Arya. So the two were glad to have this brief time before entering Veras to speak of their fears and hopes for their time there.

When they reached the river, Luc turned his back. "I'll stay here near the bridge. I will be in shouting distance if you need me. I'm happy for the alone time so just meet me there when you are done, okay? No rush."

She smiled at him, grateful. "Sounds good."

Arya found a place where the bank was sandy and the water was deep but the current weak. She stood for a moment, simply enjoying the quiet of the forest. She felt more at home here than she had in days, even if it was a strange forest with trees and brambles she was unfamiliar with. She pulled her hair out of the uncomfortable braid, letting the waves cascade down her shoulders. She began to undress when she stopped, her body tense. She could have sworn she had heard whistling. Yes, there it is again. Oh no, please don't tell me there are people around here! I need to come so badly! she whined to herself. It's been so long!

Glancing around to pinpoint the source of the whistling, Arya realized she was near a woodsman's trail. There were surely people who lived nearby, and they were probably heading home as the sun was setting. Already the shadows were long and the temperature cooling.

They will pass by and be gone soon. In fact, I doubt they would even notice me if I stay under the water, Arya reassured herself, ignoring the fact that her nipples were hardening at the thought of someone coming across her unawares. She still masturbated to that peasant boy's expression as he had come all those years ago while he watched Arya pleasure herself, knowing that she had caused it.

Since then she had often had daydreams where Master John had walked in on her masturbating and watched her as Isla had often done. She knew that she would be terribly frightened if it ever happened, but the thought of it caused her to come hard every time.

She grew wet, thinking about how someone might see her bathing and watch furtively from the shadows, stroking themselves to climax as she glistened with water in the golden twilight.

Already losing herself in the fantasy, Arya undressed slowly, pretending she was stripping for the unseen watcher. She posed, knowing that her breasts were sticking out, the nipples hard. She bent over, sticking her ass in the air as she "scratched her leg." She slowly waded into the water, imagining how it would look as the water flowed around her, the cold causing goosebumps to shiver across her smooth, bare skin.

She heard the whistling, this time much closer and she yelped, ducking under the water. She laughed a bit at herself for being so foolish as to pose and primp. She peeked out of the water, just the top of her head visible. She looked around in the dusky light, trying to see if anyone was there. She didn't see anyone and after another moment of silence she began to bathe quickly, knowing she had wasted precious time.

As she soaped up, she allowed herself to caress her breasts, loving the contrast of the smooth, shapely breast and the hard nipple. She ran her knuckles over her nipples, reveling in the feeling. She allowed herself to lay back in the water, pinching her nipples as she used her other hand to gently caress the rest of her soapy skin. Reaching the apex of her legs Arya sighed, finally able to let her fingers stroke her clit. She used the moisture from her opening to coat her fingers and began to rub herself gently. She had never tried to penetrate herself, always afraid that if she did she would lose her innocence, but didn't need to. This was always enough.

She stroked her clit for another couple minutes, feeling her climax slowly growing as her sex grew hotter and wetter under her finger's ministrations. It was so peaceful here, her ears underwater so that all she could hear was the soft rush of water, and the temperature was just warm enough for her to remain comfortable as her body bobbed slowly up and down as she lay on her back.

Suddenly she felt herself being grabbed by large hands, and she cried out in alarm. She pushed against the chest in front of her, screaming until a hand was placed calmly over her mouth, the other one around her throat. She stopped squirming, and looked up at her assailant. He had long dark hair, and fiercely blue eyes. He was naked and she could see his upper body, which was muscled from heavy labor, was covered in a thick layer of dark hair. She stared up at him, her eyes wide in terror.

His eyes roved over her nudity slowly, taking in her hard nipples and flushed cheeks. She blushed so red she felt she should have steam coming out of her ears as he looked at her in unabashed lust. He looked back into her eyes, a predatory smile on his face. He chuckled at her fearful gaze.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he growled, his voice husky and low. He leaned forward a bit, causing her to squirm against him once more as she tried to back away. The hand on her throat tightened, and she tried to calm her shaking body.

"What is a little minx like you doing here? I haven't seen you in any of the camps before. Most of our women are a sorry lot indeed, I'm sure I would have remembered you... unless you're new?"

Her eyes widened even more as she realized that he must be talking about the robber camps she had heard whispers of. Her mind immediately flitted back to the day when she had first seen a brigand, and his words of caution. She had not understood them then, but she sure as hell did now and she began to grow truly afraid. She tried to scream again, writhing frantically.

He tightened his grip once more and she stopped, unable to breath. Feeling her quiet under his hand, he relaxed his grip. He seemed confused by her reaction. "Who are you?" he asked. "Don't scream or I will beat you bloody, understand?" She nodded frantically and he removed the hand from her mouth.

She drew in a shaky breath. "My name is Arya, I am traveling with my family to Veras."

His eyes brightened as he understood. "So you are not some rough and tumble like me, you are a proper lady, aren't you?" Arya shook her head, knowing that something about his question excited him.

"I saw you undressing," he commented casually, making her blush to the tips of her toes. "At the time I assumed you had stolen those clothes, knowing that no one who would wear something so fine would be in these woods at night. But you are an ignorant noble, aren't you? Well," he smirked, "not so ignorant, I suppose? I saw how eager you were to pleasure yourself, to expose yourself for anyone to see." He reached down and ran his fingers between her lips, smiling at how wet she was.

She cried out, "Please, stop! I- "

She was cut off as he backhanded her. She felt dazed, but knew that he had probably hit her with only a quarter of his strength, if that. He grabbed her by the arms and quickly turned her so that she was facing away from him. She quivered as she felt something hard pressing against her bare skin, whimpered as he groaned at the contact and thrust it against the crack of her ass.

"God you are soft," he murmured, his hands roving over her at will. He kneaded her breasts, feeling the nipples pressing firmly into his palms. He chuckled and bit her neck softly, causing her to whimper again. "I love that sound," he growled, and she promised herself she wouldn't make another noise, no matter what he did. She couldn't help letting out a soft gasp, however, as his fingers found her mound once more.

He stroked between her lips, his fingers inept and coarse but persistent against her clit. She was terribly frightened, and felt ashamed as she felt warmth blossom beneath his strokes. When he reached down to slide a finger into her, she pushed her hands against his arm with all her might. He swatted her hands away like he would a fly, biting her hard on the shoulder. She arched her back against his assault, causing the hard shaft behind her to press more firmly into her ass.

He groaned again and grabbed her hand. He placed it atop his hardness, saying, "stroke it, stroke my cock you stupid slut."

She trembled at his words, but was too afraid to deny him. She slowly began moving her hand along his length, water sloshing every time her hand stroked upwards. He was now groaning steadily, thrusting his cock harder and faster against her hand. His calloused fingers enveloped hers impatiently, dissatisfied with her slow speed. He tightened her grip and began to move her hand faster over his shaft.

Suddenly, he pushed her forward, almost knocking her over. "Move," he ordered, his voice gravelly with desire and urgency. She scrambled away from him, hoping to make a run for it. He grabbed her hair, slowing her and leading her inexorably towards the shore. As soon as she was on land he shoved her to her knees. Arya looked back at him in fear and he growled, her innocence plain to see and only arousing him more. He smiled cruelly, gesturing to his shaft as he moved in front of her.

"Well," he said. At her blank look he continued, "Aren't you going to suck my cock like a good little slut?" She let out a soft whimper of fear.

"I've never done such a thing," she whispered, looking pleadingly up at him. "Please, just let me go."

His cock twitched as she begged, and he gently brushed wet strands of hair out of her face. "But how is that fun for me?"

He shuddered in anticipation, using his thumb to pull her jaw down, opening up her hot little mouth. He pushed a finger into her mouth, feeling the silk of her tongue. She really doesn't know what to do, he thought as she looked up at him, bewildered, her mouth open and unmoving. He pulled back and rubbed his cock against her lips, back and forth, before pulling her mouth open once more and sticking the tip into her mouth.

It was so hot and wet, and she tried to protest, causing her tongue to flutter against the underside of his head. His cock twitched in her mouth, and he began stroking his length quickly with his free hand, letting her mouth simply encase the head of his dick with its warmth. He began forcing more into her mouth, thrusting gently against her as he held her hair tightly with his other hand. She tried to shake her head, and the movement made him groan. Her muted protests sent shivers down his spine as they caused vibrations against his cock. He began stroking faster, moaning as she looked up at him in fear.

He looked down at her lithe body, his cock twitching again as he saw her nipples straining away from her tits, which were not entirely perky but had a lovely shape to them. He reached down with one hand, pinching a nipple with enough force to make her flinch. Her intake of breath caused a suction around his dick which made him pinch her nipple all the harder. She writhed below him, moaning out of fear or arousal, he couldn't tell.

"You enjoy this, don't you?" he guessed, looking down at her with a primal gleam in his eye. "You are a little cock slut, you know that? You aren't a noble lady, you are a whore begging to be fucked." He gripped her face, forcing her to hold still as he thrust deeper into her mouth, causing her to gag. Tears began to leak out of her eyes at his words, and she began to shake her head. Her tongue was now constantly fluttering against the underside of his sensitive head, the sensation overwhelming as he looked into her stunning eyes which periodically glanced up in confused panic.

That look was suddenly too much and he cried out as he spurted his seed into her mouth, groaning as he watched his come leak out the sides of her mouth.

Arya collapsed on the ground, cowering as she spit the hateful spunk out of her mouth. She was now crying openly, hardly noticing that he had placed his clothes upon the forest floor and laid down on his back atop them. So she was shocked when he grabbed her again, pulling her on top of his now outstretched body. She screamed, feeling his cock so close to her cunt as his hips jerked upwards once, twice. It was softer than before, but still something she knew to fear.

She screamed again as his fingers moved down her body and delved into her folds. It was a brief touch as he pulled his fingers out with a satisfaction and laughed, "Didn't I say you were a slut?" His voice was low and insistent, and he smiled at her as he added, "No one gets this wet from being facefucked unless they like being a cock whore. Are you a cock whore?" he asked innocently, cruelly, staring into her eyes as he slid his fingers into her mouth.

She shook her head, ashamed of her wetness and disgusted by the taste of it on his fingers.

They both jumped as a voice called out, "Arya, are you alright? I thought I heard something. Are you done yet? It's getting dark."

Arya lay stock still, staring in fear at the man. She didn't know how he would react to Luc, and she prayed that he wouldn't try to hurt her brother. She had no need to fear, however. The man cursed, pinched her nipples one more time and pushed her off of him.

He turned to leave, saying, "Too bad I didn't get to fuck you. Taking your virginity would have been perfect, I swear to God you are one of the sexiest women I have ever seen. Maybe next time."

gaelen33
gaelen33
78 Followers
12