Depravity's Child

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

“My darling, your Papa has such a surprise for you,” Honoria literally bounced on the girl’s bed with the excitement of a girl half her thirty-eight years.

“It’s that man, isn’t it?” Antonia exclaimed.

“What man?”

“The one in the convertible Mercedes.”

“You saw him?”

“I did.”

The girl’s large black eyes widened excitedly. Antonia was just nineteen years old, and in some respects, she was still childlike and pure, having been sheltered by her domineering father her entire life. But in other ways, she was very much a woman. Her body had developed early, blossoming into a delectable shape accentuated by large, rounded breasts much like her mother’s, a trim sensuous waist and belly, and curvaceous hips that tapered to her shapely legs. She was not as pretty as her mother was in the classical sense of beauty. But by 21st century standards, she was a sexually alluring young woman. Her facial features were bold, her eyes steamy eyes, her lashes long and dark, her lips full and tempting. When she was seventeen, she’d stolen a forbidden fashion magazine from the back of a convertible sports car that was parked in the villa drive, its owner being one of many guests attending her father’s gala party that night. She’d learned makeup tips from the enticing pages of Vogue, hairstyles from its bewitching models, and spent hours before her mirror mimicking haughty, seductive and worldly expressions, changing them with each new experimental hairdo. She found her unruly shoulder-length tresses were perfect for the ‘just-f****d’ bedroom look of popular rock stars. The tangle of ebony curls framed her face in a halo of darkness to match the look of obscurity in her smoldering eyes.

Antonia’s father hated her being like girls of her age, thinking her choices too wild and worldly for one so young—although he had to admit, she was quite pleasing in a carnal way. After one rare plea for leniency from Honoria, who argued that no one would see his daughter anyway since he kept her captive in his house and schooled at home by tutors, he finally relented, giving his daughter free reign to experiment with her physical appearance. That decided, he felt rather generous allowing Antonia her small rebellion; after all, young people could be expected to rebel to some degree, and in all other areas, she was still his to control.

With the help of the contraband magazines, Antonia had become in her transformation gloriously, dangerously s****l, looking more like a woman of twenty-five than an innocent child still in her teens. Despite the fact that she was a virgin, there were times when she looked as much like a w***e—a classy w***e—as girls who actually sold their bodies for cash. A sensuous cloud of eroticism filled the aura about her; the desires of her loins and heart oozed from her very pores. Once the woman emerged from the cocoon of childhood, there was no retreat. Benito was right in concluding that she’d need a strong man to keep her seductive passions bridled.

Although the father focused foremost on the s****l reality of his now womanly daughter, there was more to Antonia than Benito saw. Like many young women her age, she dreamed of fair-skinned lovers and dark-skinned Lotharios. She fantasized of leaving her country and traveling the world. Dwelling on the tempting layouts in her dog-eared Vogue, she longed to be a fashion model, or a dress designer, or make-up artist. Her visions were far-flung, thrusting her into worlds of sophistication and glamour. For all the sheltering Benito carefully engineered, she was actually much like most young women of her generation, filled with fire and want and boundless desires. And like the young women of her time, she, above all, wanted love, real, genuine, passionate love.

No one, not even her mother knew about Antonia’s vast fantasies. But Honoria had seen her daughter many times gazing with girlish lust at some fine-looking gardener, or the pool boy, or a deliveryman. That was why she had little trepidation in telling the exuberant girl about Rupert Reyes, the man she would marry the following day. If there was ever a handsome fellow to turn the eye of a woman, it was this one. She could think of no man of her husband’s acquaintance she found more appealing than the Italian bred Rupert. Money, good looks, class; impetuous and passionate—he was every young woman’s dream. Love would come later over time, but the outward trappings would be enough to a keep a new bride infatuated for a long time.

Oddly, because Honoria was used to the kind of brutal treatment she’d received at Rupert’s hands that afternoon, she didn’t even think it important to warn her daughter about the man’s dark side. There were things to be said, cautions she would make, but it was for Antonia to discover on her own the s****l whims of the man she’d marry. If Antonia was anything like herself, she’d get used to, even welcome the crudities of a controlling man as a means to her own pleasure. Even as she spoke with her daughter, Honoria was still flushed with the excitement generated by the remarkable Rupert Reyes.

“So, you’ve seen him? What did you think?”

“He looks soooo hot!” the girl replied.

Honoria giggled hearing her daughter speak like an American teenager—probably something she picked up from the distant relatives and their unruly children who had visited the villa several months before. “But what else do you think?”

“I love the car, and the way he dresses…” She bit her lip seductively as young girls do, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ll bet he’s rich.”

“Of course, he’s rich. Your father wouldn’t consider a man who wasn’t.”

“He’s the kind of man I love,” Antonia said with a profound sigh.

The hook had been set and she was reeled right in. Honoria’s task was half-done without any effort of her own.

“I’m so glad you feel that way,” she said. “First impressions are so important.”

“So, is there something special about him?”

“Yes, there is,” Antonia announced, prepared now to leap the really daunting hurdle, “He is the man you’ll be marrying in the morning.”

“What?”

“Yes, dear, you’re to be married to Rupert Reyes in the morning. I know it’s a shock, and I suggested to your father that he prepare you sooner, but you know how he is…”

“But I never thought…” the girl’s voice trailed off.

“He’s a worldly man, Antonia. Handsome. Well-spoken. You could hardly do better if you chose yourself. And the mystery of who he is will unfold for you like a flower opening. Every day something new and exciting with a man of Senor Reyes’ qualities.”

Despite Antonia’s immaturity in matters of the heart, she was also a thoughtful and reasonable young woman. She’d been taught to compromise, to be patient and most of all to be respectful of her elders, especially her father. She loved and feared him, although she did not understand him. But behind the complex man, she believed that he was brilliant, all knowing and that he loved her with his whole heart. He’d never failed her and she didn’t expect him to now. But this was certainly testing her faith. What should she think about such a startling revelation?

“I just never thought this would happen now. I mean…”

“You can’t go on living here with so little to do, Antonia. Your schooling is complete. It’s time to move on from your childhood, become a wife and enjoy the benefits of love.”

“You believe this Rupert will love me?”

“How could he not? You’re beautiful; alluring in the way a woman should be to a man. You have a style that is both appealing and well bred. You’re genuine, kind-hearted and loving. And, you understand from me what it takes to be a good wife.”

“I do?”

“I should think so. You mimic me in so many ways. Of course, you have your own personality, but your essence is pure.”

“This is a lot to get used to,” she said, cheerlessly. “Do I meet him tonight?”

Honoria flinched just a bit. “No. Actually, your father has arranged the meeting for morning.”

“And you said I’ll marry him then?”

“Yes, you will.”

Her head was suddenly spinning. She hardly knew what to think. “A dress? Do I have a dress?”

“I’m sure that your father has thought of everything. I wouldn’t worry.”

“And so tomorrow, I’ll be gone…”

“Not forever.” She smiled kindly. “You will adapt, my darling. My marriage began in much the same way as yours will…even the small wedding was perfect. Simple. Refined. And without the drama of some grand ceremony before a hundred people you don’t care about…the intimacy will provide the perfect mind-set on which to start your new life.”

Her mother’s wisdom was as sound as her father’s was, Antonia thought. Her head would spin all night. She wouldn’t sleep. But it would be excitement as much as fear that would propel her forward; that, and the idea of the very attractive Rupert Reyes being the bed partner she’d been waiting for all her life.

***

“Do you, Maria Antonia Donatella del Gallo, take this man, Rupert Ramon Reyes to be your husband? Do you promise to honor him, to serve him, to obey him in all matters, to make of yourself a dutiful and respectful wife and so cherish him as his humble and devoted servant?”

Antonia’s heart so fluttered with excitement that she failed to hear the words the priest spoke. She felt light-headed, as if the room was spinning—just as she’d felt since her mother broke the astounding news. And yet, her eyes, keenly focused on the beautiful Rupert Reyes, kept her on her feet and finally saying all that was asked of her that day, a simple, “I do.”

His every touch was like an electric shock, attacking her body at the point of origin and moving in desperate waves to her belly and s*x below. When they kissed to seal the marriage, her lips melted into his, lingering there. The sensation of physical joy bounded through her like a rapacious teenager—she was still a rapacious teenager. She hungrily wanted more. This certainly wasn’t love, but it was infatuation.

A warm wind blew through her wild mane of hair and scattered it about her face, as the Mercedes zipped through the country roads, winding its way to an unknown destination. Fear wasn’t even present anymore. Her heart beat as hotly as her loins. Goodbye childhood! Hello, great wide world! Hello to the bed where the man who drove the car, who sat beside her, her Rupert, would take her for their wedding night of s****l bliss.

No girl could have been more ready. No better fantasy could have materialized that morning than to find herself the center of a storybook, rose garden wedding that would end with her arms entangled in this man’s arms, her s*x reaching out for his s*x and drawing him in, her heart swallowing him whole with her lips fixed on his.

Like a dream with no end…

The sky darkened to a midnight blue by the time the newlyweds arrived at the villa on the outskirts of Barcelona. A single light burned at the back entrance where Rupert parked the Mercedes and he guided Antonia into the darkened house.

“Where are the servants?” she asked, rather sleepily. The last hour of the trip had finally tired her. Such a long way from her father Benito’s villa.

“I gave them the weekend off,” Rupert said. “I thought my bride and I should have the house to ourselves for our first nights together.”

He swept her up the back stairs, Antonia smiling at the fragrant scent of a man. He must be as old as her mother was, she decided, but his age gave him maturity. He was a real man, not a boy.

Antonia could still barely see when they reached Rupert’s bedroom, but she could make out the large antique four-poster bed with the canopy and the trailing lace drape that made it into a safe harbor for husband and wife, two aroused and ready lovers.

Rupert’s hands roamed the surface of her body overtop her clothes, with passionate and eager measures moving beyond her pale blue honeymoon dress to touch her bare skin. She innocently opened for him without restraint—her mind had imagined the scene so often that she knew the script by heart.

She shuddered as his fingers found her bare breast under her lacy cream-colored bra. His thumb and forefinger lightly squeezed the n****e.

“Oh, my Lord!” She breathed in and out in astonished gasps.

A hand cupped her pubis underneath her skirt, where just a pair of thin silk panties protected her virginity.

“Oh, my, yessssss, Rupert.” Her s*x exploded over his hand, with her juices soaking her panties and leaking onto his palm.

“Here.” He withdrew his wet hand and placed it at her mouth. “Drink it in, darling. This is the scent of your s*x. Lick my palm clean.”