Greywolfe Strikes Ch. 01-02

Chapter 1

I was taken from a convent; I was in the garden pulling weeds when suddenly I was surrounded by four men. As soon as I came to the conclusion of that fact everything went black, I can only assume I was knocked unconscious. After that they kept me drugged and bound, it took maybe three days to reach the destination, but I can't be sure.

I was dumped on the floor in front of a lord or king sitting in a throne of sorts in what I assumed was a castle. The hall was large, it had four great pillars, and the hearth of the fireplace was so intricately decorated with carved figures; but I couldn't spend much time admiring the general splendor of the great room. I had to force myself to focus on the moment.

I missed the introduction, but I knew who my captor was. Jonathan Greywolfe. The coat of arms above the hearth of the fireplace revealed his identity. He tossed a bag of coins to the man who brought me here, and said, "You did what my men couldn't. Thank you. Now go." I didn't watch the now nervous man's departure, didn't want to tear my eyes from the man before me.

He was tall, at least 6 foot 5 inches tall and by the defined muscles throughout his chest and arms he was also very strong. His dark hair was pulled back from his face, at the nape of his neck in a leather tie. He had very broad shoulders and his legs looked powerful; I admit it I found him handsome, but that fact was sorely diminished by the attitude that seemed to waft from his very presence. I could see it in his eyes: he was a cruel and vicious man.

He stepped in front of me and ripped the simple dress of a nun's habit with one hand; then used both to shimmy it off. In a matter of seconds I was standing before him naked.

"I take it you are a virgin." He said, his voice seemed to vibrate the stone walls and through me.

"Yes, sir." I said in half gasps and half breaths, "I was inspected by a priest the day before I was kidnapped. The day I was taken was the day I was supposed to take my holy orders."

"Well, what luck. For us both." He chuckled as tears formed in my eyes.

"What do you plan to do with me, ...sir?" I tacked on at the end, I was also surprised at how I was able to control my voice.

"I'm going to use you, every which way; to lure you're father out of whatever whole he's hiding in, so that I can kill him. Honor demands his death; it's only fair that I take something important from him. You are his only child, are you not Andrea de la Rosa, daughter of Count Fernand Mondego?"

I have really dark brown hair, and my skin has a natural tan to it, some refer to it as olive skinned. My eyes are the same are the same as my hair, a very dark brown, and when in the sun both have a bit of red in them. My mother was Spanish and my father was French; I attribute my looks to my mother though I have never met her.

"Yes, my lord; though I have not seen him in 12 years."

"That is not important." He's been circling me, appraising me. How humiliating.

He shoved me down on a rug in front of the fire, and then started kissing me. He kissed my forehead, my cheek, my chin, my neck, then on the lips; I steadily breathed through my nose, and pinched my lips together not wanting to invite him to press that kiss further. He then lifted slightly, while straddling me, to untie his breeches (riding trousers). The tears started falling at this point.

"I beg you. Please. Don't do this. If you take my virginity, then I will have nothing. My father took me to that monastery when I was eight, and I haven't seen or heard from him since; so I can only deduce that he doesn't care for me. Therefore you're plan is flawed. If you steal my virginity the church will reject me, there will be nothing left for me. I can't and won't be a whore or someone's mistress, I couldn't do that. Please, don't." I was sobbing by this point.

I never wanted any of this. All I wanted from life was to live a peaceful life at the convent. I was abandoned by my father, left at that convent for twelve years. I am now 20 years old, and being forced by some unknown man, an enemy of my father, a man I haven't seen since I was a child. God help me.

"You...will be my whore." He said with a devilish grin. I knew he meant it when those slits of blue gazed possessively over my naked body, like I was some prize stallion he'd just acquired. "I will soon make you beg for it, I will soon make you mine." He half whispered.

I tried to wiggle away using my feet to push while he straddled me, he slapped me across the face and I cried out. It felt like my skin was on fire where he had hit; my eye felt like it might explode and I could taste blood in my mouth.

"Don't move." He said through clenched teeth He started kissing me again all over, then took hold of my chin and forced his tongue into my mouth. He tasted mostly of wine, I made a whimper kind of noise as tears started to well in my eyes, and he chuckled at my misery. His lips caressed mine in a firm but tender kiss, slowly moving so that I became accustomed to it, coaxing my lips to part, to allow the entrance of his tongue. He rose and took off his shirt then started on his breeches, a sob escaped my throat.

I thought about covering myself and even turning on my side but that slap-the place on my cheek where he had struck was still burning...I didn't want that again.

He knelt beside me, and coaxed my knees upwards, then moved in front of me. Those eyes, blue eyes, seemed to spear me to the floor. It was as though he silently commanded me to do all that he wanted.

"So a priest inspected you?" I nodded. "Did he touch you here?" Indicated the patch of hair between my thighs; nod. "And here?" A finger circled my entrance; nod. The finger moved, but abruptly halted at my entrance; at feeling the membrane, he knew I was still a virgin. "Ah. I am surprised the priest could resist you, my little morsel; you are quite voluptuous, my dear."

I turned my head in shame at the memory of that day with the priest.

"No. God! Please don't."

"No? Are you sure that you want me to stop." His finger started to move within me, and his thumb circled and teased that sensitive spot in my folds. Unbeknownst to me my body demanded that attention, and started moving my hips in the same manner of his hand.

"You see? Your body craves what I can deliver, my little morsel." He removed his hand to show me the juices clearly evident on his hand. He brought it close to my face and the smell, while stimulating was also-on a more moral and less animal level- completely repulsive. In my shame I turned my face away. "No, little one. Embrace it."

I looked at him incredulously, "It is a sin, I cannot."

"The priests would have you believe every pleasure is a sin. Do you know why?"

I shook my head. "Because they themselves live in such a way that they deny themselves even the most basic pleasures; they do not live as normal people do. Secluded. Cut off, from the way the world works. Since you are no longer forced in subservience the way that they are, you no longer have to deny yourself this, simple pleasure. Enjoy it, live life in completeness, not a half life, the way priests and nuns do."

I tried to understand it and in truth it made sense; the priests and nuns I have lived amongst were practically miserable, very little or no happiness. The only time I didn't feel that way too was when I was in the garden, I was peaceful there.

"I understand." I said in such a calm voice it surprised me.

"Good. Now lick it." I did.

To my everlasting shame I enjoyed it--is there shame in that joy? I could not decide.

I licked his hand clean, when I finished I looked up at him; he smiled. While I cleaned his hand I swear his member swelled to twice its previous size. It must be eight inches long and as wide as a baby's arm.

He rested it on my slit and moved it up and down, over and over, occasionally circling the sensitive spot and then my entrance. There he held it, ready and waiting, like a snake ready to thrust.

"Oh, God. I can't." A tear fell from my eye into my hair, leaving a cool trail in its wake.

"You will."

"No." I was suddenly terrified again.

"Tell me what you want." He said as his thumb found that incredibly sensitive button.

"Oh. Please. Don't. Stop." My hands gripped so hard on the rug I was on I pulled out some of the fur.

"Beg me." His thumb circled and pressed and stroked.

"Aaahh!" I cried and fluids seeped from my nether regions.

He chuckled. "Tell me what you want."

"Ah, I, uh, I want you."

"Where?"

"I want you inside me." I cried in my bliss induced wave of ecstasy.

The head of him rested on my entrance and his hands circled my waist-to hold me steady, and he thrust forward. I screamed when he burst through the membrane, the pain of it scared me to my core. "Oh, God, you're tight. I am not even half inside." He said in a half choked voice. I understood later that he was trying to control himself, so that he didn't hurt me more than was necessary.

That's only half? How can that be? "Oh, God, it hurts. I can't take it all, please."

"Oh, you will." He afforded no mercy as he slowly pulled out a little, only to thrust forcefully back in.

"Aaahhh!!! No! Please! Don't! Stop!" Tears streamed down my face as the assault was only just beginning.

He pulled back again till just the tip was inside, then thrust forcefully again, this time to the hilt, and he stayed there. I would have sworn he was going to tare right through me.

"You see, you took all of me." I was shocked to look down to discover he was right. It was uncomfortable; and God knows it had hurt, but I did it. I took on the monster. The pain now was only minimal, overridden by the sheer rapture of the moment.

"Please, don't stop." I said slowly and with a panting shaky breath.

And we both realized the significance of my words at the same time: no longer was I begging for him to stop the assault, I was begging for more.

He didn't hold back after that. With long, slow forceful thrusts he slammed into me. And God forgive me, I loved every second of it. My hips moved with his, I tried to match his intended pace; he half lifted me off the floor with his grip on my hips. My moans and whimpers came in time with his grunts, and I screamed again at what I felt when he stopped moving and what was inside me seemed to grow, then I felt a warmth spill inside me, he had been holding his breath his face had turned a strange shade of red and purple, as he cried out the color returned to his face and he looked down at me.

He seemed to fall on top of me; minutes later after we both got our breathing under control, I felt him bunch together my long dark hair in his hand and he smelled it. I had suppressed my crying up till this point but when he began to kiss and lick my tears, a sob escaped my lips. "It won't hurt like that again, sweetness. I promise, I promise. Shhh. It will only be pleasant from now on. We will both enjoy it next time."

I swore then to myself that though I may not be able to fight him, he will not 'enjoy' it next time, or at the very least I wouldn't.

"Come, my little morsel, you are exhausted. I doubt you can even walk." He picked me up and I let my head lean against his shoulder, I could not even hold my own head up-that was how weak I was. Eventually he brought me to a room, I think I fell asleep on the way; he set me down on a very soft fine bed and pulled a down blanket around me. He kissed my forehead and said, "I had not intended to take you so soon, but as I said you are a scrumptious little morsel. Sleep, now. I'll see you later."

End of Chapter 1

*

Chapter 2

I woke slowly, blinking away the fogginess and focusing on a unfamiliar ceiling. I lifted slightly to see a sparsely furnished room. The bed was huge, it could easily sleep a whole family; there was a large leather chair near the fireplace and a small round table. There was also a window with two glass panels that opened. I tried to get up but the soreness in my body halted me; then memories of the night before flooded my mind-Jonathan Greywolfe. He has abducted me, forced himself upon me, made me beg for him, and to top it off has imprisoned me-granted the room could hardly be called a cell, but I was certain it was locked and I couldn't leave.

Forcing my legs around the bed to the floor, I stood. I realized I was still naked and nowhere did I see clothing. I faintly wondered how it was possible for my feet to even be sore but was dragged from that thought when I saw the blood on my thighs, the bruises on my hips, and on my arms, the ones on my wrists were from being bound for three days but the rest was from him, The Brute. I stood there staring at my injuries for a long time, the tears never came.

Eventually, I stood and went to the table. Thankfully there was a wash basin with a small rag, and a meal-if it could scarcely be called that. First I needed to 'relieve' myself; under the table was a small round receptacle, I assumed was what I was suppose to use.

Afterward, I decided washing was in order. I moved slowly the soreness still evident, I washed my thighs first, hating myself every second; when I finished my thighs I went to rinse the small cloth and caught my reflection in the basin I had a huge bruise on my face, from the corners of my eye and mouth to my ear. It was colored pink and purple, and it was sensitive to every touch and every movement.

Very slowly and carefully I cleaned myself, head to toe. Then I wrapped the blanket around myself twice and one part covered my shoulder and I tied it together in front of me. I moved the chair next to the window so I could see out, the sun was setting now but I couldn't see it, it would have been to my right so the window faced south.

I could see the square and a small market, everyone was closing up shop. Beyond that was a lovely little garden with a fountain. On the other side of the castle walls was a vast green land, I could only guess it was grazing land and I could see no animals to tell me otherwise.

While I looked into this beautiful countryside I ate the small meal. It was a bit of bread, a little cheese, and some grapes. I was starving; my stomach growled telling me it wasn't nearly enough.

I put the empty dish on the table next to the basin and the toilet bucket under a corner of the bed. When the sun set I opened the window, I hoped to see the stars but clouds blocked my access. I long to go outside, being outside with the sun on my face or lying out under the stars, it simply is the best part of my life. So The Brute keeping me locked in here is more cruel than he realizes.

'Speak of the devil and he shall appear' rolled through my head when seconds later he, The Brute, as I've been calling him in my head, stepped through the door; I'd heard it unlatch but was still caught off guard. I stood to face him, moved around the chair, keeping my eyes on the floor.

Through lowered lashes I saw that he was leaning against the wall by the door, arms crossed his chest.

"Take that off." He said harshly, as though I had committed a heinous crime.

"But, .."

"Now. You are not to cover yourself before me."

Oh, God. He wants me to remain naked all the time; idiot, I should have figured as much when there were there was food but no clothes.

I reached up with both hands to untie the sheet, without a sound it fell to the ground. I might have imagined the sharp intake of breath that he took; or it might have been mine.

For lack of somewhere to put them I left my hands at my sides, it was not without effort.

"I did not realize I hurt you so."

"Yes, uh, well, I was bound and gagged and drugged and not fed for three days. I'm weak. I'm hurting. I'm starving."

"Ah, I did not know." He said in an uncaring tone, like I had just said the sun was hot. More like you did not care to know. I said in my head, still careful not to look at him, if he saw the hate in my eyes he would hit me again, I know it.

I am breathing erratically, shaky half-breaths. Fear is what this is; I am terrified of him. I hate that he has that power over me. I am also without hope; my father doesn't care enough to rescue me, the church would turn me away if I tried to run. I have nothing.

"What do you want of me, sir?"

"I think you know." He said with a grin.

"You, (gulp) you want to take me again, correct?"

"Yes. That is what I want."

I turn on my heel and lay on the bed; I face him and say, "Take me. I no longer care."

I didn't have to tell him twice. He untied his breeches, and lifted my knees to lie on top of me; not even bothering to remove his clothes. He suckled a nipple till it was pointing straight upwards, then he did the same to the other. I am ashamed to admit that my body responded, my back arched, my ankles locked around him, moans escaped my throat, and I was sure I was seeping juices down below. Not wanting to give in to him completely I resisted the urge to put my hands on him, and raised them above my head to the pillow.

"Your mind resists, but your body excites at the feel of a man between your legs." He chuckled.

Then he entered. He wasn't as forceful as the night before, but his thrust I was sure only went half in again. I was surprised that it didn't hurt as much as I had expected I had flinched in preparation, braced for impact so to speak and sure there was discomfort but very little pain.

He continued to pull and push, to force my inner walls to give way but thankfully didn't grip my hips as he had before; I had feared that was his favorite position. His arm had circled around to hold my body and his other hand had gripped my wrists to hold above my head, he probably thought I was going to fight him; I knew it would be useless so I didn't bother.

I could feel him moving within me, the length of him, the firmness of him, the urgency of need between us. Every ridge, every vein, every inch of him inside me sent sensations through every fiber of my being. His breath on my skin of my shoulder caused sweat to bead and chills race down my spine. Despite my reluctance, despite fighting the swell of emotions, I did find my completion. I was pulled toward the abyss-like waterfall and I screamed in sheer delight.

While I was still swimming back to the surface of my consciousness, I heard him yell out and move faster inside of me to bring his own desire to completion. He collapsed on top of me, and after a few minutes to get our breathing under control, he rolled off of me. I turned on my side and brought my knees up, to my chest, I wrapped one arms around them and the other I put under my head. He positioned himself behind me and stroked my back and my side, he pulled my legs from my chest and allowed me to lay on my side while he moved to lay behind me, he put his arm around me.

Somehow I fell asleep like that, with his hand caressing my...my breast.

~~*~~

I woke before dawn, and he wasn't there. I didn't need to take time to remember where I was or what had happened, I knew. I was the prisoner and sex slave of my father's enemy. God in heaven help me.

The day passed quickly, as dawn lit the sky a maid came through the door, thankfully holding a huge tray of food. Thank you God. I was beyond humiliated at having to remain naked, but I was very grateful that he sent so much food. I said as much to her.

"His lordship, said if you wanted more I was to get it." She said with a small smile. Careful not to gawk at the sight of me; naked and bruised and probably dirty-there wasn't a mirror, but I guessed I was filthy.

There were eggs, a lot of them, some ham, bread, cheese, fruit, milk, the tray was completely filled. She set it on the small table as I reached for the blanket to cover myself. She sat on the corner of the bed as I moved the chair to sit between her and the table. I offered her some and she only took a few pieces of fruit to be polite.