The Rebel's Wife Pt. 03

I awoke to the feeling of warmth and light on my eyelids. Groggily, I opened my eyes and found myself looking out of a row of tall windows with sunlight streaming through them. Dust motes danced in the morning sun as I blearily stretched my body. The stretching awoke a few bruises and pains, which brought back the memories of everything that had happened to me yesterday. To hide from the horror of these thoughts I pulled my quilt back over my head, creating a dark cave that was mine, and only mine.

I had slept in the green velvet gown, for lack of more suitable options. It was now creased and a bit rumpled from my tossing and turning, but still felt and looked luxurious and soft. I could not help but reflect how I used to sleep in my aunt's old shifts when there had been no money to buy me a night gown. The shifts had been stiff and oversized on me. In contrast my green gown felt like a second skin. Wearing it in a warm, soft bed put me in a mood I had never experienced before. I already felt sinful, having slept until well past sunup, and the richness of the sheets and dress only increased my feeling of being wicked. It was not an entirely shameful feeling though, either, I felt mischievous and more than a bit resentful thinking of my aunt and the harsh regimen she imposed on my everyday.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, getting louder as they approached my door. My heart went from a groggy waltz to a frantic gallop. I was stupid to be enjoying this bed and thinking unworthy thoughts about my aunt, who had taken me in after the pox had killed my mother and my father left. She had kept me clothed, and safe, two things that were far from a guarantee in this castle I had found myself in. I gathered the blankets up near my neck as I heart the lock clicking, and my door swung open. To my relief, a girl stood there, wearing a serving habit, and holding a heavily laden tray. A male guard stood near the door, clearly having unlocked it for her, but did not seem to be showing undue interest in me.

"Good morning Madame," the serving girl's eyes were respectfully downcast as she put the tray on the small bedside table. "I am told you are to eat your breakfast and then the tailors will be in soon to get you clothed," She curtsied and started to leave. At the door, however, she paused, and looked me in the face. "And Madame, make sure that you eat, he hates it when they are too skinny."

She left, and the guard locked the door behind her, without much acknowledging either of us. I was left alone in the room. I felt like a brooch in a jewelry box, surrounded by finery and waiting for my owner to take me out and play with me. The thought sent a shiver through my abdomen and into my nether regions. I shook my shoulders to rid me of the heady thoughts that came flooding in, and I lifted the silver lid off of my breakfast tray. The last time I had eaten was some bread and cheese in the carriage ride to the castle, maybe as long as a whole day ago. My stomach did cartwheels at the sumptuous spread laid out before me. The biggest plate held a pile of steaming eggs and four rashers of thick bacon. Three small plates held pastries that had their dough weaved into complicated, delicate patterns. The smell of chocolate, cinnamon and vanilla assailed my palette, making me dizzy from hunger. The last dishes on the tray held small portions of plum colored berries, and a rich cup of milk.

The serving girl's advice still rang in my ears, and I stopped my hand as I started reaching for the bacon. Perhaps I should refuse the food, become small and sickly, and I would be allowed to return home. But I could not tell which prospect frightened me more, the Lord Kavan finding me alluring, or him being disappointed and displeased with me. In the end my stomach made the decision for me, and I tucked in savagely. I had never had flour so fine as that in the pastries, and I could have wept at the delight of the many tastes.

Soon the food was all gone and the guard was letting in another serving woman. She was carrying a pile of fluffy white towels and a blue silk robe, embroidered with tiny sapphire falcons. "Get up and we bathe," she intoned with a heavy northern accent. I scrambled out of the bed, embarrassed by still being in bed at this late hour. She did not even seem to note my disheveled appearance as she led me into an adjoining washroom. A tub was already filled with steaming water, and a rainbow of carved soaps was laid out on the side board. "You get in, I do hair." I slowly lowered myself into the tub, letting my body get used to the heat slowly. I was worried this woman would see the hand-print that Gareth had left on my thigh, or notice how pink and swollen my nipples were from yesterday's rough handling. She, however, only paid attention to her task, which seemed to be emptying endless bottles of liquid onto my mass of hair.

I managed to relax, soothed by the hot water and the feeling of being tended to. I was used to bathing in front of woman from my village, as there was only one part of the stream that was properly suited to the task. I had tended to avoid the other women when I could, however, because of the envious, borderline venomous looks my form received from them. They would run their eyes over my full breasts and small waist and scowl, calling me a whore under their breath. My eyes pricked with tears now, thinking that these cruel women finally were being proven right about me. I was being used as a whore and doing nothing to stop it.

But what could I do? I shuddered to think of how large, muscled, and martial all of the men I had encountered so far had been. I could not fight, not if I wanted to stay in one piece. And if I ran, what then? What did I have to go back to? I would be doing the bidding of my aunt, waiting on tenterhooks for my uncle to find an old man of some means to marry me to. My uncle had seemed determined to wring every last coin he could out of my beauty, but in our region and in our standing, the best I could hope for would be a sow farmer. Even if I escaped from this castle I would still be sold off like chattel by my uncle, and without my verifiable virginity, even that was not a guarantee anymore.

The servant had finished brushing out my hair into a straight, silky curtain, and let it slip into the tub to rinse. She then continued on to filing my nails to gleaming crescents, and to my mortification, trimming the curly hair that grew between my legs. I was luxuriating in the softness of the thick towels she was using to dry me, when I again heard metal-clad shoes coming down the hall. Eyes wide, I found myself trying to cover my naked body with my arms as the foot steps sounded closer. "Milady, de robe." The woman helped me into the sleek blue silk garment, which while it covered my skin, did nothing to hide my shape. She then propelled me back into the small bed chamber I had slept in, scurrying away to leave me to face the three men there on my own.

One, I recognized as my door guard, another was also clearly a member of the Castle guard, but was older, with a shock of white hair. The third, causing an eruption of butterfly wings in my stomach, was Gareth. Despite the late hour he kept the night before he looked calm, composed and regal. Even his beard looked tended to. I could not look at him, so instead looked down, seeing to my dismay, my nipples standing erect in the cool air. I could cross my arms, but I was terrified of showing bad manners in front of these men. I was sure that given the slightest excuse they would start treating me like the low-born wench that I was and I would not get the safety that would be allowed to me as a wife of Kavan.

When I realized that Gareth and the older guard were content with surveying me, and not saying anything soon, I brought my wits together to say, "M-milords, I am not dressed, please excuse-" I could not even finish the sentence, I owned no clothes here, and had no where to retreat to. They held all the cards. So I stood there dumbly as they ignored my protestation.

"She really is quite something," boomed the guard suddenly. "I can see what you were going on about Gare. I am not at all surprised that the King wants her for his wife. But I still do not like it." The white-haired man pursed his lips, frowning, even while he appreciatively eyed my bosom.

"She is docile as a field mouse, I swear to you Colonel. Isme has barely uttered a word since we... met. She poses no threat to Kavan." I blushed, but could only agree. I was not a threat to anyone in this castle, even if I had wanted to be. Gareth's male scent was permeating the bedchamber, all smoke and oiled leather, and it was making me want to flee like a field mouse.

"Loyalists are everywhere Gareth," growled the Colonel in retort, "the whole fucking castle is lousy with them. This girl could have been planted for you to find, and to cut the Lord's throat while he sleeps. You could not even pick her from Kalagar? Outsiders are the least trustworthy of all."

"Colonel, I promise, you overestimate her. Isme knows nothing of politics and knows what is best for herself. Isme, do you support the King?"

Which King did he mean? Did he mean The King, the rightful king of all of the lands, or did he mean Lord Kavan, who the people in this backwards castle kept referring to as King. My heart raced as I pondered a good answer that would not put me in danger. "I support my Lord Kavan's claim to Kalagar milord." She hated saying it, but she knew it was the wisest thing to say.

"He does not need to 'claim' it if he can take it by force," Gareth gently corrected. "See Colonel, even if she had been a loyalist in her former life, she is malleable and quite... pleasant. And it is important to Kavan that the wedding proceed without delay. He finds her quite fetching." Gareth added earnestly.

"I am not convinced Gareth, you simply have not had enough time to break her. It would only take one rebellious moment for her to cause harm to our Lord. I cannot allow this wedding to go forward so soon. Not without me or one of my men in the wedding chamber with him to assure his safety, a precaution Lord Kavan would never permit."

Gareth's hand traveled up to his beard, and played with it thoughtfully, as his eyes narrowed at me. I did not like the look in his eyes, but I found that his gaze had pinned me in place. Gareth snapped his fingers loudly. "Take off your robe." He commanded. I hesitated, my eyes darting back and forth between Gareth and the Colonel. At my hesitation, I saw Gareth's knuckles clench, his fingernails digging into the leather of the gauntlets that he held. Breathing unsteadily, I undid the silk belt that held the gossamer-like fabric to me. At first I just let it fall open, exposing my stomach, the half moons of the insides of my breasts, and the small triangle of dark hair between my legs. At a look from Gareth, I let the whole robe fall to the floor.

The Colonel hummed appreciatively, but I had only eyes for Gareth, as he seemed to be my biggest threat in the room. I could see how the Colonel's skepticism affected him, and he seemed to take it as a personal affront. I was not stupid, and I could tell what would be coming next. My tender parts still ached from misuse, causing me to quail at the thought of it.

"Kneel now, Isme." Surprised, I knelt on stone floor, my hands wrapped on either side of my waist. "I told you Bashan, she will play her part perfectly. She is innocent of all things devious and quarrelsome. In fact, you may have what you like from her, go over, touch her." Ashamed, I examined the ground. I was truly wicked and whorish for not protesting this treatment. But the pangs from the bruises Gareth had given me reminded me there would be consequences for my every action.

"I am afraid it would not be suitable, as she is to wed Kavan..." The Colonel pursed his lips until they turned white, his fingers absentmindedly stroking the leather of his jerkin. Gareth laughed carelessly and stepped towards me, sticking one hand into my newly washed and combed hair. It was still wet, so his fingers slipped languidly through it, landing on my damp scalp.

"Kavan said it himself, she is not under his protection until their marriage. You would be surprised the liberties he would allow with his betrothed. Until tonight there is no more sacred bond between her and him than there is between him and that vase." Gareth jerked his head at the room's furnishings. My stomach flipped, as I had hoped my torment would be over, at least until the night's wedding ceremony was over. But Gareth was undoing his belt, a sound that now gave me a jolt of adrenaline and made a small heat form between my legs. "God above it would be a waste too, not to sample this girl before she is locked away. When I see her lips pouting up at me..." He trailed off, and slid his manhood out of his breeches. It was almost as hard as the first time I had seen it, and longer still than I had remembered. "Let me show you how little of a problem little Isme will pose for you, Colonel Bashan."

Gareth moved his member closer to my face and, alarmingly, I could see he was lining it up with my lips. I clamped my lips shut hard, bewildered by what he thought he might do. Smirking down at my disobedience Gareth balled his fist in my hair, making me cry out as my roots were tugged harshly. He was pulling my head back such that my whole throat was bared to him. This angle made it particularly hard to keep my mouth shut, and his hips were insistently guiding his hardness between my lips. "There, there princess." I could feel the warm, hard head of his cock against my teeth. I was sure he would not continue to violate my mouth further when he grabbed my jaw and pulled until my teeth were no longer a barrier to his advance.

I wailed ineffectually, my mouth constricting around what was now half of the length of his cock. He smelled musky and primal and against my will a small drop of moisture traveled from my core down to my thigh. The salty taste of him was completely new to me, and if the circumstances were not so heinous, it would not be an unpleasant taste. My jaw protested as Gareth's first thrust pried my mouth open farther. I tried to beg for mercy, but only managed to make a high, pathetic noise around his manhood. Gareth murmured something appreciatively and pulled my head further onto him, as if trying to make me squeal again.

My back arched as I gagged uncontrollably around his cock. The head of it was now pressing against what felt like the back of my throat and I could not breath or swallow. Little tears gathered in, and then escaped my eyes, falling down my face and into my mouth. I gagged again and tried to scramble away in my kneeling position. Gareth only had to take a couple steps to maintain his violating position in my mouth. He seemed neither pleased nor impressed by my attempt at flight, and frowned menacingly down at me. "Good-" he thrust hard into the back of my throat, "girls," he thrust again, fucking my face just as he had fucked my body on the table in Kavan's map room "sit there-" another thrust, "And take it." And so despite the abuse I knelt where I had stopped, pinned against the end of the bed and Gareth's body. My knees ached under me as I endured his quickening pushes into me. I was figuring out that I could still breath through my nose, at least when he was not at his deepest inside me. This only lessened my misery marginally. I choked for what felt like the twentieth time on his long, thick staff.

"And she does not fight back?" The colonel's voice sounded from the corner.

"Unh," Gareth grunted, a bit out of breath from the pleasure he was taking from me. "Not a bit." He pulled at my hair demonstratively, causing more tears to cascade down my cheeks. "I think-" There was a laugh in his voice. "It is because she is smart." He spoke slowly, punctuating his words with violent thrusts into my throat. I had never had something near this big in my throat, and my gagging was becoming violent. Just when I thought I might throw up or pass out, Gareth removed his cock and, stroking it methodically, he aimed it at my cheek. "I think by know she knows exactly what she is here for." Warm white fluid gushed out onto my face from his cock at a surprising speed. In my shock some of it landed in my mouth, tasting salty and strange. "She seems quite ready to serve her King- I am sure you will agree, Colonel?" He glanced over at the guard, then back to me. "Swallow, he said sweetly, and moved my jaw to close my mouth over the unwanted liquid. Gagging a bit, I did as he asked, and collapsed from my kneeling position onto my bottom.

"I think..." The Colonel said slowly, seeming hypnotized, "I can allow Isme to marry Kavan this night."

"Do not let Kavan here you saying you will 'allow' him to do anything," Gareth laughed and buckled his belt. "Your blessing his appreciated, I am sure. Now you may go on and make the rest of the guard arrangements for the wedding. I want nothing to spoil the night." Knowing a dismissal, the Colonel dipped his head at Gareth, glanced at me on the ground, and swept out of the room.

"You did well, dearling," Gareth crouched over me now, a finger running up the smooth skin over my rib cage, which was covered with cold sweat from my ordeal. "So well... what an extraordinary catch you are. If you were not such good material for a Queen I would take you as my own. We would have such fun, I have so much that I could teach you." He sighed, his hand trailing down until his finger found the nub of my clit. He circled it tenderly, making me shutter and tense up. He did this for what felt like hours, but in actuality it was probably only a quarter of one hour. I could not move at all, blocked by his body and stunned by the wash of pleasure. His finger circled around and around until I wanted to beg him to stop. I kept silent, though, afraid to spur him into further anger. Moreover, I could see the outline of his manhood hardening in his breeches as he touched me. I wanted to disappear, and in lieu of that, I remained silent and still. Finally, he seemed to bore of his game and stood, looking down at me from a great height. His cock made a noticeable, but not obscene outline against his leg.

"Oshka!" He used his booming voice to summon the servant woman from down the hall. "She will need to be cleaned up again, Oshka." He made to leave. "Oh, and do not let her touch herself in the bath, my Lord wishes for that sort of thing to be at his discretion." Gareth gave me a sly smile, winked, and left me on the floor, my face covered with his seed.