Emma left the house shortly after, she was given a meagre cloak and roughly ushered from her room by a gruff old man with a huge, unsightly belly.
People seemed to be everywhere, as though every man and woman who came to the great home had heard of her shame and had come to gloat. The looks on their faces told everything – they had heard all about her, perhaps even heard her with Amity and the Mistress – and they smirked at one another, enjoying her discomfort, sharing whispered gossip behind their hands.
She raised her chin to play at feeling brave, but stepping out of the house into the cutting wind she felt afraid and alone. She could scarcely believe that Gellir, only the morning after they had made love like equals, had finished with her, and discarded her in the way.
The crushing sensation in her chest felt unbearable, and the thoughts of him coiled in her mind with a mixture of passion and betrayal. Could he really pretend so easily? For her the fusing of their bodies, with her full and happy consent, had been a mark of something great between them, but for him, it seemed it had made her undesirable, an unnecessary distraction – something to be removed.
The man ushered her forward and motioned for her to mount the horse before her, and she shook her head rapidly. Emma had never ridden before, and had never the wealth to afford a horse, so the beast in front of her it seemed wild and enormous. She stepped back and tried in vain to explain her fears, but the man did not comprehend and casting a glance behind him to an unknown person he got his orders to place her how he could.
For a short man he was squat and burly, stronger than he appeared, and he lifted her easily, and in spite of struggles he mounted her across the horse’s back like a sack. Emma howled in fear and humiliation, hearing the laughter of the watching audience. The horse’s rough hide rasped against her face, and the animal smell assaulted her nostrils, her feet flailing in midair. The man tethered her tightly, pulling her hard against the horse until she feared she would not be able to breathe.
The horse, justifiably alarmed by his reluctant rider shied and whinnied, twisting around until the man stepped up to calm him. With the movement Emma could now see the house and see the figures standing and watching her with great humour. Amongst them was Amity, laughing fiercely ’till her shoulders shook, and within the entrance was the Mistress, jealous and vengeful, eyes alight with triumph.
The old man jumped easily onto his own horse, and with the reigns in his hand he led Emma away, the watchers went back to their duties quickly, the distraction only short lived, but Gellir’s wife, Cwen, watched them until she couldn’t even hear the horse’s hooves. She smiled at the image of the Emma as unceremoniously seated cargo, and took satisfaction in the woman’s humiliation.
Her life had been a hard one before gaziantep bayan escort she came to this place; she had travelled far with her father, a trader, and had fought hard for every scrap of comfort life had ever afforded her. Her only goods to barter were her looks and she had traded them well – finding a fine, eligible husband. He was wealthy, powerful and handsome, and she would be damned before another woman would come between them.
She waited for him to return from his morning ride, and had banked on him being long enough for her to rid them of the girl. Indeed when he did return the horse, the girl and the servant were long since gone, and all that lay before her was sharing her actions with her husband.
* * *
Deep in the woods Emma found the steady motion of the horse begin to comfort her, she was cold, but her horse’s body provided some warmth. Her tears had dried and she felt numbly resolute. With the trees thick around her she noticed a change in their motion. Turning her stiff neck she saw the manservant dismount, he tethered both horses against a branch and glanced up at her guiltily.
He walked around the horse, patting its nose and coming around behind her. She tried to speak, but he made no response. For what felt like minutes she heard and felt nothing, then slowly she felt colder air against her already shivering legs, as the man lifted her clothes and exposed her.
Algo, the servant was a lonely man: his wife was as ugly as he was fat, and he felt no interest in having her. Having this beautiful young woman in his charge had felt like a gift, and whilst he knew he shouldn’t touch goods that weren’t his, he couldn’t imagine when he would get another look at a fine young pussy like this.
Lifting her frock he found her legs more lovely than he could have imagined and to see the little secret at the top had him almost fill his breeches there and then. He had never really looked at a woman closely like that, and to see the delicacy, the softness – it was so inviting he simply couldn’t help himself.
He would have liked a stool or something to stand on, so that he could have pushed his squat little knob in-between those pretty petals. He didn’t dare cut her free, for if he lost her he would surely die for it. So, he looked and he lusted and he palmed himself in his fat hands until he could feel himself ready to explode.
He stepped back around towards Emma’s face crooning softly to her.
“So pretty, my girl. Uncle Algo loves your pretty little pussy.”
She could see his ugly little shaft in his hand and heard his gruff foreign words, just in time to have him shoot his seed in a high arch, landing like streamers in her hair.
* * *
Cwen had been ready for her husbands rage, and she weathered it in spite of the hurt it caused. It was only the sight of his face, white with rage, which brought home to her just how great a threat the other woman could have been. She told him in their private chamber, away from the servants, but his shouts could be heard by all. He railed and threatened and she tried hard to soften him without success.
“You were going to give her away, you said you would – she was a gift to Stefan!” he grunted in uncertain agreement.
“Of course, but not yet. I’f have given her when I was ready, after all, she was mine to give – not yours. You forget yourself, woman, you are as much my goods as she was – be sure you don’t overstep your mark or I might give you away instead.”
She slapped hard at him, lashing out in fear and sorrow as well as in anger, and he lashed out hard in return. Fighting was not new to her – in her homestead there had been many men to fight with, brothers and cousins and neighbours all willing to take something from her if she was not ready to stop them. She had grown up fighting for food, shelter and her chance to sleep unmolested, so fighting her husband had been an anticipated part of her life.
She pushed hard against his chest and locked her fingers around his long sleek plait, tugging his head forwards and reaching forward to bite him on the cheek. He spun her away with a bellow and pushed her back hard.
“What is wrong with you, you’re like an animal!” he breathed hard, pressing her into submission against the nearest wall. “What do you care if I bring a quarry back from a raid?”
“Quarry!” she shrieked “It’s you that’s the quarry. This isn’t gold or cloth or livestock! Since when would any of those things call you from my bed?” her breasts heaved and her voice dropped dangerously low.
“What was I supposed to do, when you visit her in the night on your first night back from sea? When you had a duty to do for me, and you slinked away to be with that filthy Angle whore!”
“So, this is jealousy?” he was incredulous “You would do this because I left you empty for one night?” he laughed “Don’t pretend you’ve been waiting all the time for me – the bed has hardly been cold from the moment we set sail. You call her a whore but you’re so debauched you’ll do this just to get a piece of cock?”
Their eyes were locked with fierce rivalry, both bodies set in stone and pressed tight together.
“I’d better not neglect you any further dear lady, or who knows, you might dispose of the rest of my staff, just to avoid an empty hole!”
She grunted as he tore open her bodice, newly made for his homecoming feast, and he bent his head between her small, pointed breasts and nipped her with his teeth, hard enough to hurt. He loosened his clothing to release his shaft, painfully hard and still smelling of Emma.
In one swift move he lifted Cwen bodily from the ground and thrust her hard against the wall, tilting her hips as he did so, allowing her to lift her skirt and give him access.
Without waiting to see if she was ready and without caring if he hurt her he pushed himself into her in a single, driven stroke. She called out with a sound of mingled anger and pleasure, and grunted at him through bared teeth.
“Happy now?” he snarled, pushing ever deeper, until her could not help but begin the steady movement back and forth.
She shuddered as his thrusts pushed her back hard against the wall, impaling her on his iron hardness. The walls of her sex closed hard against him, gripping him within her, soaking his shaft in her slippery moisture. As she began to moan and urge him on he stopped abruptly, rocking his shaft at her entrance, only allowing the tip to lie inside. She bucked forward to thrust herself onto him, but he held her steady.
“What if I were never to fuck you again, woman?” he glared at her “What would you do?”
“You couldn’t!” she gasped, struggling to get more than his tip inside “You want me as I want you – we have the same need!”
He stepped back, away from her body, and let her drop to the ground abruptly. In front of her face his hard cock swayed, purple, rigid and smeared with her juices and she howled in frustration.
“I have hands for those needs, maybe I will satisfy myself for a while,” and he began to stroke the length of his shaft slowly.
“No!” she cried out “I am sorry, my love – truly.” She knelt before him, eyes on his hardness, desperation mounting.
“Please!” she begged in a whisper. “Love me…please. I’ll do as you bid, but don’t leave me needing you like this.”
Glancing up to meet his eye she opened her mouth just in front of him, her tongue snaking out against the bulbous, purple head. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, before stepping back away from her. She followed on her hands and knees across the chamber floor, she would move toward him and he would step away.
The sight of his beautiful wife, face agonised, creeping on the floor to reach his cock was unbearable. He wanted nothing more than to bury it again inside her hot, responsive body – but this was matter of power, and letting her rule his body would be letting her rule their marriage.
Finally he stopped moving and he saw a gleam in her eye as she thought she had overcome his sudden reluctance. She reached up with her mouth and when she was just an inch away he grasped her hair, holding her head still with both hands and with an enormous grunt he released himself. Threads of white shot from his aching shaft and landed like ribbons across her beautiful face. She struggled to mouth him, but being held fast she had to make do with the streams of his seed which fell into her mouth or against her outstretched tongue.
He gazed down at her; face streaked, mouth open in desperation, drips landing against her breasts and her hand working furiously between her legs. It was a sight erotic but shaming to him, and his gut clenched to see her so degraded.
“Please?” she cried softly. “Please, Gellir, do something for me.”
“Get her back and we will see.”
He walked out and left her there on the floor.