Depravity's Child

Chapter Two-2

What a naughty thing to do!

She blushed, but her eager tongue greedily lapped the sour-sweet nectar, even as she felt her body leak more in a trickle down her thigh. Rupert pushed her to the bed.

“Open your thighs,” he said, standing over her, riveted by the beautiful Spanish maid that was now his to use. He moved in rapidly, attacking her nether regions, tugging the panties away until she heard the silk rip. His power over her nearly made her faint, but her body held on, belly exploding into spasms that did not stop for all the licks and sucks and nibbles from her husband’s tongue and lips and teeth.

As she shuddered from the wild commotion, Rupert pulled himself from her crotch and climbed up her torso, straddling her hips—he was still fully clothed and her half-delirious mind wondered what he was doing. Drawing her hands over her head, he slipped a cotton rope, a slipknot, over her wrists and tugged it tightly.

Oh, my!” she gasped in breathless wonderment.

“No hands, love,” he smiled. Backing down, he returned to her crotch where he worked the purplish pink softness of her skin, the wet folds and the warm, welcoming home at her center.

Antonia thrashed back and forth as the momentum of her orgasm built from one crest to another, mounting like a fire-breathing dragon until the explosion of heat and spasms ripped through her body like the tail of that great beast.

“That’s it, my darling,” Rupert purred in her ear. “Come for me, my love.”

The sound of his kindness played like a gentle melody in her ear. But still her body ached and was not yet satisfied.

“Oh, may I put my hands on you, dear Rupert?” she asked as the force of her climax drifted away.

“No. No. Not yet. You have yet to be taken by me, and it is my pleasure to have you this way, bound to me, bound to my will and captive to my heart.”

What words! Another small spasm slipped through her body in reaction to the sound, the sweet hum, the purring feral quality of his passion. Captive to his heart! Her being shuddered.

Rupert clenched her mound once more, inserting a finger in the untried hole, and carefully worked the tight space, while occasionally pulling back and thrumming her sensitive bud.

“You are indeed a virgin,” he said, smiling.

“You thought otherwise?”

He chuckled. Some dark aspect of Rupert’s character momentarily appeared in his expression, but this was not enough to scare her off or even warn her of the future. He was a master of hiding his baser desires behind a cloak of civility.

“Of course, not. Your father assured me of your purity. But then, what does the man know of young women like you? He may protect you, but he could never protect a slut from every man who’d seize her. Handsome young studs work your property. How about the gardener, or the electrician, the boy who delivers groceries from town? Wouldn’t it have been possible?”

“Oh, but I swear I would never!” she said, smiling earnestly.

“Yes, I imagine not.” He raised his eyebrows and looked so lovingly into her eyes that for that one pure moment she knew love, only love.

His fingers, playing quietly at her v****a, began to move more forcefully into her aching home. Though she wanted them there, an intense sensation began to build within and without. The urgent pressure of his hand scared her.

“Oh, my Rupert, I don’t know…” Her eyes widened with alarm.

“You’re doing fine, my dear. You need to relax. Breathe.” The fingers pressing their way into her virgin cunt eased slightly and she took that deep, relaxing breath.

As Rupert’s eyes darkened; she saw only the reflection of the lit candle in his black irises. His brows, the firm set of his jaw, the clenching muscles fixed on his determined act of forceful entry made sure her attention would not waver. “I am not an easy man to accommodate, Antonia, but you will have all of me. This is just the preparation.”

His unwavering vow hit the mark. “Yes, sir. Of course, I will have all of you. I am your wife. It is my duty and I cherish that.”

He liked the way she honored their relationship with words of reverence and humility. She would be easily trained. Of course, she had no idea exactly what he specifically meant by accommodating him. There was no way to prepare her for that.

Preliminaries finished, Rupert disengaged from her, and on his feet again began disrobing. He tugged the tie at his throat, while she, dressed like a used w***e, clothes askew, legs still widely splayed, hands bound above her watched his every move. Such a meticulous man, she would think later as she replayed the scene in her mind.

He undid the buttons of his starched shirt while staring at her face, then carefully threaded his gold cufflinks through their holes and slipped them into his pants pocket. He wore the style of armless undershirt that field laborers wear until they are threadbare and stained with dirt. Even though his was new and bright from bleach, the image of grimy, heated, sweat-soaked s*x appeared in her head along with the memory he resurrected in her mind of Benito’s workers toiling in the sun, their hairy, sinewy arms one moment swinging a scythe, the next ready for the lush curves of a woman’s body and the wet warmth between s*x-hungry thighs.

These images shocked her. How could she think of anything so vile?

Rupert removed the undergarment over his head and Antonia gasped; her eyes terrorized by their mutual lust. Then as his trousers hit the floor, change, cufflinks clanking on the bare wood, his eyes still fixed on her, a cry caught in her throat.

She struggled with the rope that bound her wrists. Would she have moved away in fright, or covered her mouth in horror had she the use of her hands? Her gaze now rested on his crotch, where behind the blue silk jockey shorts that smoothly covered his groin, she could see the outline of an erection that challenged her imagination. Once she’d seen Hector, her father’s overseer naked in the shower—an accident. She’d stood in the doorway of the servant’s bath, expecting to see her mother’s maid Esperanza there, scrubbing tiles, and remained frozen, eyes glued to the wet, browned body of the middle-aged foreman as he showered. His face may have been eroded by the sun and his advancing years, but his body was as virile as a twenty-year-olds. His was only male organ she’d ever seen in the flesh, and his was limply at rest, shriveled and unthreatening.

Afraid to look more at her husband’s proud equipment, Antonia finally shut her eyes. She was ready, yes. Prepared. Rupert had prepared her. And was this not the moment of female triumph she had been dreaming of her life long?

She sensed him moving closer, his body hovering over hers, the tip of his p***s touching the readied opening. How rigid! How steady! He hardly grazed the sensitive flesh and she could discern its character.

“Antonia,” she heard his voice, but couldn’t respond. “Look at me,” he ordered.

She opened her eyes. She could not fail to look at him with his body so close, suspended over hers, his torso supported by his powerful arms, his legs once again straddling her hips. She stared into his impervious black eyes feeling more like a child now than a bride. So small, so very small. Her body seemed to shrink under his forceful aura of domination, as though she’d been kidnapped as a prize of war.

She felt the hurt rip her long before his groin pressed into her body and Rupert’s savage member tore away her innocence. There was no mercy now, no consideration for her inexperience; the groom battered his bride with brutish force, laying waste the fantasy, and escorting her with sneering satisfaction into the reality of her new life.

She was in tears, rivers of them streaming down her temples. “Please, my love!” she gasped when she could take no more.

“Cherish your duty as you promised me,” he threw her own words back at her.

Yes, remember the covenant, the vow! Antonia desperately engaged in this solemn wifely duty for as long as the moment lasted, until her husband finally exploded his seed into her and buried it deep. He cried loudly as he came and then collapsed to the bed beside her, sated.

The pair lay in silence. Antonia was too in shock to speak, but as she recovered, the hurt that centered in her belly swelled in the most unusual, most delicious way. The pain turned into a frantic ache. She arched her back and thrust her pubic mound into the air, wantingly.

“Oh, has my bride changed her mind about what she can take?” Rupert was cognizant enough to ask. “Is she willing to be abused again?”

“Oh, I am so sorry to have disappointed you. I didn’t mean to be such a baby…”

“Shush!” he said, with a finger over her lips. “s*x is something to get used to. Virgins are all alike. You are no different.”

“Oh? So, you’ve had…more than…me?” she asked, her voice sounding very young.

He laughed heartily. “I should hope so. I’m a thirty-seven-year-old man, and did not bring my virginity to this marriage bed.”

“No. I don’t suppose you would have.”

His hand had begun to fondle her privates in a tender gesture that expanded the feelings of lust that now brewed there.

“I do think your…your…your p***s inside me,” she could barely say the word, “aroused me, even when it hurt so badly,” she said with some awe.

“Did it now?”

“Oh, I’d give so much to be able to touch you, Rupert.”

“You will, in time. But I’m not finished using you, my bride.” The darkness in his expression returned, as if he’d tapped into some subterranean vault where he stored another kind of passion—a ruthless, frenzied devotion to a malevolent force.

He moved on her again, ripping away the clothes that still clung to her body. When he couldn’t successfully tear them off with his hands, he reached for scissors in the bedside table and began to cut them off.

“What are you doing?” she asked, with some distress.

“What does it look like?” he beamed evilly. “I’m disrobing my wife.”

“But these were new. Papa bought them special for today.”

“You’re not your Papa’s girl anymore. You’re mine.”

He said this with such conviction that she’d have no doubt.

Her eyes widened, a dark fire brewed within them, and as she spoke, her voice lowered, answering his resolve with her own. “Oh, I believe I am yours.”

Roused by her feverish response, Rupert moved on aggressively. His kisses covered her mouth, her face, her neck down to the swell of her bounteous breasts. “Ah, beautiful, so beautiful.” He kissed them vigorously and sucked the milk white flesh at their sides until she felt the pain of it make her crotch spasm, low rolling waves of physical ecstasy flooded her system. Another explosion was near.

Rupert returned to her face. “And these lips. They have work to do, darling. Things to learn. Ways to please me.” He kissed her mouth and pulled at her lips with his teeth, not to break skin, but like an animal devouring flesh. Their mouths met, open tongues gliding over sensual surfaces. He lay so close to her that Antonia could feel his once placid p***s throbbing at her hip. The heat of it attacked her belly.

He grabbed a breast while journeying down her neck with his mouth. “Ooo, yes, my luscious one… so many things I have in mind for you.”

Then he suddenly pulled up, moving over her, this time straddling her head where the powerful scent of his p***s and testes flooded her senses.

“Oh, my,” she gasped, as Rupert’s half-awakened organ touched her lips.

“Yes, that’s it, darling, open your mouth for me.”

Her body shuddered with fear and her wet lips trembled. Still, they parted slightly as her husband ordered, as he pushed the head of his p***s against them. She watched the thick organ expand before her eyes and grew alarmed seeing the size of him. She realized now why her untried interior had been so pained, stretching to fit this enormous monster. Was he typical of most men, or especially blessed?

“That’s it, darling, lick it.”

He held his amazing tool steady in his hand, while her brain worked crazily to understand what purpose her husband had in mind.