A Lady or a Cock Whore? Ch. 13

Hello hello my lovies! I don't intend to add much more to Arya and Eric's story at this time, but I'll probably return every now and then to post a couple one-offs of D/s scenes when the urge hits me or life inspires me. I hope you enjoy this last chapter, and I appreciate all of you who took the time to vote and comment :)

~Gaelen

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Morning light drifted in through the tall, narrow windows, illuminating the couple sprawled on the furs. The fire had died, and the floor was covered in wax where the candles had burned themselves out, having overflowed the catch underneath them. The lovers huddled close to each other as they woke slowly, Eric clasping Arya to his side as she nuzzled against him and mumbled sleepily. A ray of light was shining on her face and Eric followed the light, running his fingers across the planes of her face tenderly until she opened her eyes and smiled at him.

"Good morning, honey bee," he murmured, pulling her leg over him so that it was laying atop his hard shaft. He lazily thrust against her thigh as Arya ran her hands over his chest and cheekily pinched his nipples. Eric squirmed and allowed Arya to disentangle herself from his arms.

"Put something on, I need a quick wash," she requested. Eric grumbled a bit at being made to move, but his own bladder was crying out and he pulled on a robe as Arya tugged on the rope, setting off a small bell that the servants would hear.

After only a moment, a footman knocked. Eric told the man to prepare a bath and fetch Arya's maid, and the footman nodded sharply and left to do his master's bidding. When the maid arrived, the new bride let the girl in and luxuriated in the pampering that ensued. The maid seemed nervous with Eric in the room - especially since he was watching his wife bathe with open desire - but she maintained a professional demeanor and cleaned up her mistress before beating a hasty retreat.

The maid was worried for her Lady Arya, seeing the bruises spread across her mistress's skin, but she seemed unafraid of Lord Eric so the maid felt conflicted. She had heard of such strange, twisted sex acts before, and was disturbed by her mistress's apparent tolerance for the Lord's perverted treatment of her. But such things were often forced upon women, and the maid decided to wait until the Lord wasn't around so that she could offer her Lady some aid or comfort, if possible.

She would have been shocked to know that Arya had begged Eric to grip her harder, to leave her more hickies, and to ravish her with such rough treatment that she would be marked for days.

Ignoring the frequent, disturbed looks the maid shot in his direction, Eric happily ogled his wife, winking when Arya blushed. He knew that she would be embarrassed for a maid to see his overt desire, but he also knew that the lascivious attention would make her as hot and needy as he was. So he had made no move during Arya's bath to hide the erection that shamelessly tented his thin robe.

After the maid left, Eric gave his wife a firm slap on the bottom, enjoying her squeal. But he left her alone, taking her place in the bathtub and soaking for a few minutes. He enjoyed the way Arya looked in her delicate, frilly robe as she sat in front of the mirror and combed through her hair. Her movements were graceful and dreamy, and Eric knew that morning baths together would soon become a tradition for the couple. It wasn't conventional, but neither were they.

When we return to Langton I'm ordering a larger tub, Eric decided. He would happily take the maid's place next time and soap Arya up, though he would do so in the tub rather than bending over the side. And he especially liked the idea of washing her hair as she nestled into his lap, slippery and warm against his naked skin.

"How did you enjoy your wedding night?" Eric asked, folding his arms over the side of the tub and catching Arya's gaze.

Arya flushed in remembered pleasure and Eric teased, "Mmm you liked it a lot, didn't you my blushing bride?"

She nodded, biting her lip.

"What did you like best?"

She thought for a moment, then admitted, "I like how you say such dirty things."

Eric perked up. It was not the answer he had expected, but it was one that pleased him greatly. "And why do you like it? Is it because it makes you wet to know all of the perverted thoughts I have? To hear about the ways I want to ravage you, molest and abuse you, pleasure you until you're screaming my name?"

Arya's thighs clenched together as pulsing heat spread through her, and she nodded again, unable to take her eyes away from his devilish face.

"Or do you like it when I remind you how dirty you are? When I tell you that I know how sloppily you want to suck my cock, to feel my come all over your chest and your ass, or when I accuse you of being a little slut? Is that what you love, my perfect, dirty girl?"

"Yess," Arya hissed. "All of those things."

"I know," Eric replied smugly, leaning back in the water. "You're dripping for me right now, aren't you?"

His arrogance irritated and inflamed Arya. She loved that he understood her, that he appreciated her perverted side, but at the same time hated that he knew her inner thoughts and desires and could exploit them so easily. It was the knife edge she balanced on by giving her submission to him so freely and so honestly. But she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yes," she answered, grudgingly this time, glad there was a towel beneath her because his words were all too true.

Eric simply chuckled affectionately and finished rinsing off. He stood, noting the way Arya's eyes instantly shifted towards him and centered hungrily on his cock, and his own pupils dilated as a rush of need flowed through him.

"Towel," he ordered.

Without comment Arya rose up and handed him one, hardly moving her eyes from his erection. He wondered if she was doing it purposefully; from the way his cock was bobbing she must know how much it turned him on to see her watching him so transparently. He knew it was purposeful when she licked her lips, still staring at him, and he groaned at the sight of it.

The noise made Arya finally look towards his face, and she grinned. "Aren't you going to dry off?" she asked innocently.

"You little imp," Eric growled, but his tone was playful and Arya winked in response before returning to the fireside.

He dried off quickly, dropping the towel negligently on the floor as he strode towards her. He knelt behind Arya and wrapped his arms around her, nibbling on her neck. She let out a soft mmm of pleasure and he cupped her breasts, kneading them gently. She arched her back slightly and Eric murmured words of praise in her ear, then began to roll her nipples between his fingers. Her back arched further and as she pressed her breasts into his hands, and Eric bit down where her neck met her shoulder. When she gasped at the sensation he reflexively pressed his cock against her back and bit down harder. Arya let out a squeal of pain and he retreated.

"Was that too much?" he asked worriedly, shifting to a sitting position by her side and watching her face. She looked thoughtful.

"Well, I don't know," she admitted. "It hurt, and if you weren't touching me in any other way I wouldn't have liked it... but with your fingers on my nipples like that..." She met his gaze and her arousal was obvious.

The beast began to rise in Eric and he growled low in his throat. I knew it, it bragged triumphantly. And it's time to let me out.

A large hand grasped Arya's chin and Eric leaned forward, mouth open as he forced her tongue to meet his. He delved deeply and she melted into him. The feeling of her giving in drove him into action.

He stood, holding out a hand. There was no mistaking his intent, and Arya took his hand with a shy smile as he pulled her up.

"Wait," she begged, removing her hand from his. "Can you go in first and wait a moment while I do something? I know this is your time now but I think you'll like it."

He was intrigued, and readily agreed. It would give him a moment to check that everything was in place, anyway. He placed a gentle kiss on her lips then slipped through the door, ordering her not to look as he did so.

Arya ran to the drawer where her lingerie was, and drew out the red set. She was growing nervous as she fingered the lacy fabric in her fingers, sticking her fingers through the hole in the underwear and imagining they were Eric's, instead. She knew that if he had done so last night, his plundering would have been gentle and all for her... but he had made it clear that once she entered the bedroom she would be entering his world, and she knew in her gut that his world would not be nearly as gentle.

She smiled, and quickly dressed in the scanty, tantalizing garments.

A thrill running through her, Arya was growing more nervous by the moment. Adrenaline and endorphins were shooting through her veins and she wasn't sure if her heart was racing more from excitement or fear. It was an intoxicating combination, a heady cocktail that she basked in as she pulled her robe back on and knocked on the bedroom door.

When Eric opened the door she was shocked to see that he had dressed. He was wearing black pants and a loose, white shirt that exposed a fair amount of his upper chest. The sleeves were rolled up, and his feet were bare on the rug. The casual look was so sexy to Arya, given that she had always seen Eric either impeccably dressed, or naked, and for the first time, it sunk in that they were actually married. Arya beamed.

He quirked an eyebrow. "So glad to see me dressed?"

Arya shook her head, not wanting to break the spell by explaining her thoughts. The moment had driven away all fear and she was ready for him to ravage her, and to ravage her now.

She peered behind him, trying to catch a glimpse of his surprise. All she could see in the brief peek was ropes hanging down, before Eric moved to block her view.

"Ah ah," he tsked, grinning. He held up a piece of cloth. "Close your eyes."

Arya's heart raced as she obeyed, allowing him to blindfold her. He fiddled with it a couple times to make sure it was tight, even waving a hand in front of her face, then took a step back, satisfied.

"When you walk through that door you are mine, understand?"

"I'm already yours," Arya said with a smile, stating the obvious.

"You are my wife, yes," he agreed, "but when you step through the doorway you are my cock whore. I own you, I own your pleasure, I own every breath and every moan. You will deny me nothing, because you are mine to use as I please. Do you understand?"

Arya's entire body flushed as he spoke. It was as though he had spoken her fantasy aloud, a fantasy that she had rarely even admitted to herself.

"Yes," she whispered.

Eric's rough voice grew slightly less intense as he added kindly, "You also know that I will never hurt you, right?"

Even with the blindfold on he could see her skepticism and he laughed. "Well I am going to hurt you, but you know what I mean." Arya smiled in return and Eric chucked her chin affectionately. "Do you remember what we talked about the other day? About the safe words?"

Arya nodded, grateful that he had been so thoughtful in planning this, and that he had created boundaries that would ensure that she did not truly fear him or what he would do to her.

"Say it," he commanded. "I need to hear you say the words."

"'Slow, slow slow', if I want you to slow down, and 'pause, pause, pause' if I want you to stop." Before he could prompt her she added, "oh and snap my fingers three times over and over if I'm unable to talk."

"So good," he praised her, kissing her forehead. "And you know why I chose the words 'pause' and 'slow', right?"

Arya trembled, knowing the answer but wanting to hear Eric explain it again.

Her beloved stepped closer, taking her hips in his hands and squeezing tightly as he whispered in her ear, "because if you yell at me to stop, I won't. If you yell 'no', I won't stop. If you cry, I won't stop."

One large hand moved to her throat as he pushed the door closed behind her and his body sandwiched her between them. It tightened until Arya couldn't breathe, and he added, "In fact, I hope you do all of those things."

Arya's entire body shivered with goosebumps as he slowly licked the edge of her ear. Just as her body started to panic with the need to breathe, Eric loosened his grip. A spike of adrenaline shot through her and had she not already been wet, that simple act of choking would have instantly made her cream herself.

"Come," he beckoned, and she heard his quiet footsteps move away from her.

Knowing that her confusion and lack of sight was part of his game, that he wanted her to prove that she trusted him enough to walk blindly, Arya took a step forward.

She was stunned when he said sharply, "Not like that." Arya instantly stopped in her tracks, cocking her head in a silent question. "Crawl forward," he ordered. There was a cruelty, an amusement in his voice that made Arya hot and wet and needy and she dropped to her hands and knees without question. She moved towards his voice.

For Eric, it was an intoxicating sight, watching his beloved crawl towards him. Or where she thought he was. He circled around her as she continued to slowly move forwards, enjoying the show from all angles. He knew that she could tell that he was moving, but she continued in a straight line as she obeyed his order to crawl forwards.

"Stop."

She did.

"Stand."

She did that, too.

"Drop the robe."

Arya hesitated for a moment, thinking to herself that she wished she could see his face when she removed the garment. That momentary pause was what Eric had been waiting for (truthfully, part of him had hoped she'd resist a bit soon so that he had an excuse to ravage her). He moved forward with remarkable speed to pull at the sash around her waist. The knot untied, the sash dropped, and Eric roughly yanked the robe off of Arya's shoulders.

She staggered and gasped, and reflexively moved her hands to cover her breasts. It was a move that would normally have earned her a punishment, but Eric's mind was too distracted by her outfit to follow that train of though. He stared at her unabashedly, his breath hitching as he drank in the sight.

The frilly top covered most of her breasts and several inches below it, tight enough to support the weight of her breasts as it pressed them firmly together. There were no sleeves or straps and, from the brief glimpse he had stolen, he saw that like the outfit the night before there were holes where her nipples stood out. He circled her as he took in the bottoms, which were a lacy triangle in the front, with multiple straps along the sides which converged into one in the back, a thin sliver of fabric that was lost within the firm globes of her ass.

Eric groaned at the sight of it. The fabric was bright red, so different from the virginal white she had worn the night before, and utterly sensual. She was oozing sex, and by the time Eric got around to reprimanding her for having covered her breasts, she had removed her hands and placed them at her sides.

He could see that her hands were shaking.

Eric slowly circled her a few more times, drawing out her anticipation. He knew that she got a thrill from being watched, and he wanted to ratchet up her arousal until she was panting for him. She shivered as his fingers began to slowly run across her exposed skin, so light and feathery that it made her flinch and wriggle a few times when he hit ticklish spots.

"Raise up your arms," he commanded hoarsely, circling Arya again as he took in the way this position raised her breasts, the nipples hard and prominent.

"Stay just like that," he whispered, as he bent down and took them in his mouth. The lace tickled his face as he moved back and forth between them, lavishing attention on the nipples and squeezing the flesh around them with eager hands. He moaned into her, enjoying the ministrations almost as much as she did.

Eric continued on until he sensed that Arya was desperately holding back the urge to beg him to touch her elsewhere. He loved that he could read her so easily, even with half of her face obscured.

"Do you want me to stroke your cunt?" he asked, purposefully obscene.

"Yes," Arya moaned.

"Yes, what?" Eric reminded her, pinching a nipple with excessive force.

She flinched, but kept her arms above her head.

"Yes, Lord Eric," she corrected hurriedly. "I'm sorry, Lord Eric, I won't forget again."

"No, you won't," he murmured. "Unless you want the switch."

Arya blanched. That was not a punishment she had expected. She thought perhaps a good spanking would be involved, at most a slap across the face, but a switch? It was something she had only seen a servant suffer, and that was when they had committed a crime.

My husband will treat me like a criminal should I disobey him, she thought, her mouth dry as fear and humiliation washed over her. He will beat me like a common peasant.

She couldn't understand why that made her so goddamn aroused.

From her open mouth Eric knew that she was shocked, and then when she grit her teeth and breathed heavily through her nose he knew that she both hated and loved the idea of it. Seeing this reaction, Eric was unable to resist any longer. He squeezed his cock through his pants, but was so aroused that he quickly moved to fondle his balls instead, needing stimulation but fearing that contact with his cock would prove to be too much.

Wanting to drive his point home, Eric picked up the thin, wooden switch he had laid out and began to run it across her skin. He slapped it against her a few times, gently but with meaning behind it.

Even though Arya couldn't see what he was touching her with, it wasn't difficult to guess. "Shhh," he hushed, stroking her hair gently before returning to his tease. He had sensed her fear spike, and hoped that this reassurance would return her to that balanced place between anxiety and arousal.

It worked. Arya's tense body relaxed slightly, and Eric continued to run the switch over her exposed nipples, then down her stomach. But Arya stiffened once more as he ran it between her legs. He ran it down the inside of one thigh, the back up until it was pressed firmly against her pussy. He pressed upwards with some force, watching to see she what she would do. Arya was breathing heavily, but continued to stand still.

Pleased, Eric drew the switch away. He raised it up, noticing with satisfaction that the wood had darkened with wetness where it had pressed against her. He brought it up, under her nose.

"Breathe in through your nose."

Arya breathed in the unmistakable scent of her arousal, and blushed a deep red.

To further humiliate his blushing wife, Eric pressed the wood against the underside of her nose so that some of her juice would be left on the skin. He was humiliating her with the smell, knowing that it would relentlessly fill her nostrils until the residue was cleaned off.

He threw the switch in the corner and moved her arms back down to her sides. He took one hand and led her forward, placing her in the middle of the room. Ropes brushed against her skin as she moved into the center of them, and Arya remembered with tingling excitement the night he had bound her arms and hooked her onto the bedpost so that he could ravage her.

"You're going to be very very good for me and stay still while I tie you," Eric told her.

Arya nodded. "Yes, Lord Eric."

He kissed her cheek, then impudently licked it. Arya couldn't help smiling, flinching away from it.

"You really are a dog, aren't you, my lord?" she teased.

"Mmm, perhaps. But know that, unlike most dogs, my bite is worse than my bark."