Succumbing (Sinful Submissions Book 3) Page 4

  Lady Annabel had been adamant that the heir could not be some bastard offspring of a slut. If he was in time to become the Lord then he must be of appropriate stock. A suitable girl was needed to carry the child, someone clean and virtuous. The astrologer had advised them that the chances of success in the endeavour would be greatly increased the more alike in appearance the girl was to the Lady and Emily could not help but notice a similarity in the Lady Annabel’s features to her own, the rich brown hair and pale eyes that they had in common.

  The Lord and Lady were both paranoid that Emily might be exposed to anyone else and that she might bear the child of another so she was kept in apartments to which no man save the Lord would be allowed to enter. She was to remain in her apartment at all times. At first the luxury made her captivity seem a trivial inconvenience but it rapidly weighed on her.

  Before she had too much chance to grow accustomed to soft living, she was told by her attendant that the day of the ceremony was at hand. Water was heated for bathing and she was thoroughly washed by the maids that had been assigned to her. At Lord Arthur’s insistence they paid particular attention to ensuring the cleanliness of her womanhood. He had, as he had stated bluntly, no wish to get goat shit on his cock.

  The maid probed delicately at Emily’s pussy afterwards and her touch, so much more delicate than that of the physician, drew moisture with little effort. The maid stopped short of giving Emily release but that could only have been intentional. When she was sufficiently clean she was dried and perfumed, then dressed in a simple white gown.

  She was told little of what would be expected of her in the ceremony. The wine that she was given before it was laced with soporifics that left her dazed and pliant throughout.

  At the centre of the chamber was a wide, low table on which she was instructed to lie. Incense was burning in censers and the room was lit with many candles. The smoke and rhythmic chanting of the astrologer mingled with the wine and left her entranced.

  She had been floating in white light when Lord Arthur’s cock first plunged its way between the lips of her sex. She had been completely unaware that the astrologer had earlier rubbed sacred oils over parts of her body and it was this oil that smoothed the passage of Lord Arthur’s cock into her and helped him to claim her maidenhead. It was a sudden and deep penetration, lacking in all of the tenderness that would normally facilitate the passing of girlhood. The pain of it near jolted her from her reverie but she seemed unable to move and the weight of the Lord’s hands pressing down on her kept her back against the table. She felt him move inside her and the warmth of his spending seemed to reach deep into her womb.

  The ceremony complete, she was led back to her apartments and left to sleep away the drugs that lingered in her body.

  In the weeks after the ceremony Lord Arthur visited her in her apartments regularly. He seemed little interested in conversation. His only concern was to repeat the early actions, though in a more abbreviated form and with less ritual attendant. Both the astrologer and the physician had recommended that to ensure the girl’s fecundity the Lord should make the effort to have her as regularly as he was able.

  He rapidly grew impatient with her inexperience and uncertainty in amorous skills. He seemed to take for granted that she would know how to do things that hadn’t even occurred to her. Why would she even want to do that to his cock? Increasingly the things that he wanted to do to her seemed to have nothing to do with her becoming pregnant but she seemed to have no choice but to acquiesce to his demands, however much they repelled her. Naive though she may have been she knew enough to know that only the one of her openings could possibly be used to beget a child.

  At the first sign of pregnancy Lady Annabel insisted that he cease all such contact with her. The unborn child must not be threatened by his careless lusts. He returned his attention to those servants as pleased him. In part he was relieved. He was losing interest in Emily and her fumbling ways and was glad to have his seed spilled by a girl that knew what she was doing with her hands. And her mouth. Ramming it into a pliant but vacuous piece like Emily was only worth it so many times. For fucking, experience was important. A long time ago he had been able to take pleasure in doing so with his wife, but the tensions over the years of her continuing childlessness had strained things and he instead fucked any of the servants that caught his eye. It had long since stopped being seen as a privilege by those of the town when their daughters were summoned. Too many had returned scarred or dead.

  Lady Annabel had ever gained but little pleasure from the act of love itself and seemed to derive much more pleasure in inflicting pain. She was especially vicious to those that her husband had previously made pregnant and Emily was surely the first woman to become pregnant by the Lord that had not had to immediately fear for her life. That she was younger and prettier than Lady Annabel couldn’t help but be a source of some resentment but the Lady was restrained in her dealings with Emily. However frustrated she became with her, Lady Annabel did nothing to hurt the girl, though she did lash out at those around her uncomfortably often.

  As the months passed and Emily’s belly swelled Dr. LeConte confirmed with apparent relief that things were proceeding well, though he seemed extremely reluctant to be drawn as to the gender of the child.

  Emily wondered what the fates would have in store for her at the completion of the pregnancy but she was told little. Now the Lord had no reason to visit her she was alone for much of the time, save the servants that watched her, the physician’s regular examinations to ensure the continuing health of the baby and those rare occasions when the Lady called on her, at which times she seemed interested only in staring at the growing bump.

  The birth was painful but uncomplicated and the physician was able to ensure that the baby was brought into this world as smoothly as any could wish for, though his courteous treatment did not extend to the mother. The Lady insisted on being present throughout the birth, though she offered no words of comfort or reassurance to Emily. The Lord preferred to stay absent during the actual event.

  Emily never even got to hold her child. Once cleaned it was passed straight to Lady Annabel who cradled it tentatively. Lord Arthur was summoned and roared satisfaction at the news that he at last had a male heir.

  Scarce minutes after the birth, as the Lord and Lady left with their heir to present him to the world, Emily found herself feeling weaker. Earlier Dr. LeConte had reassured her that the volume of blood that had escaped her onto the bedding during the birth was normal, but it seemed that she was not fated to share a world with her child for long. Lady Annabel had been very clear in her instructions to the physician. Emily must not survive the birth. The physician’s skills were abused to ensure her demise and she was buried in a pauper’s grave without ceremony.

  True to his word, the Lord ensured that an ample stipend was sent regularly to Harold and Mary for the rest of their lives. Sad to say that they didn’t survive their first winter without Emily. Harold slipped on the ice and injured his leg and could barely walk for days. Mary hadn’t left the bed since Emily had gone. Cold, hunger and sadness suffused them both and they died. Doubtless a lesson can be learned about value from their tale, but it would be unfair to think ill of them for what happened to them. So very often in life, someone has to lose.

  From it all, there came a child; a son for Lord Arthur and a grandson for Harold that he never had the chance to meet. The child was named Daniel, for the Lord’s long dead brother. The astrologer confirmed that all was in order that the ceremony had been successful and Daniel was in truth the child of the Lord and Lady and that Emily had merely served as a conduit for them. The augurs were good and Daniel was destined to grow to be a fine heir to the line. The Lord and Lady made it clear that the details of the child’s origin were to be forgotten. It was to be their child alone. With the unmourned passings of Harold, Mary and Emily, there was none left that had reason to expose the truth of young Daniel’s origins.

  Five: The first time
Hannah fell in love

  Hannah could vividly remember the very first time she ever saw Jen. It was during the confusion and disorientation that was her first week at university. Jen wasn’t much taller than her but she somehow managed to look so much more composed. She was wearing a top that exposed the lean muscles of her arms and the tattoos that encircled them.

  Without thinking about it Hannah found herself turning, watching Jen as she made her way through the knots of people standing in the hall. She was so purposeful. She always seemed to know just which way to step and was able to progress smoothly through a crowd where Hannah knew that she herself would have been constantly stumbling and apologising.

  Hannah couldn’t remember ever seeing another girl look so self-confident. She found it hard to imagine being able to stand up that straight, ready to look the world right in the eyes. Most of the time she preferred to look at the ground.

  That first glimpse of Jen left an indelible mark on her soul. She couldn’t stop thinking about her afterwards.

  Hannah saw Jen in passing a few more times after that in the days that followed. It wasn’t a big university and it was normal to become at least slightly familiar with a lot of people quickly. It was easy finding out her name. She found herself mouthing it as she lay in bed at night, rubbing her virgin sex and driving herself to orgasm.

  At eighteen Hannah was shy and nervous. Though pretty she had never really done anything to emphasise it and she usually looked like she could have done with a bit more attention with a hair brush and a possibly more realistic understanding of clothes-sizing and the correct fit for garments to suit her. She was happiest in shapeless and baggy clothes and often wore hats that were big enough for her to hide under.

  The few friends that Hannah had in school were the same ones throughout. She had never been exactly outgoing and always found it difficult to know where to start with people socially. Sexually she was inexperienced and though she had learned to give herself pleasure when she was thirteen, she had never had a real boyfriend and the couple of fleeting moments of attempted intimacy that she had experienced to date had made her feel very uncomfortable. None of it came close to the sweet purity of love as she had imagined it, or even just the pleasures that she could bring to herself with her fingers and fantasies.

  It was Hannah that made the first move with Jen and walking up to her was possibly the most difficult thing that Hannah had done in her life up to that point. It wasn’t much of a move, as she would have been the first to admit. It was in the student union bar. Hannah had been forcing herself to go there, however uncomfortable she felt surrounded by people. She didn’t really drink and she found it hard talking to new people, but it was better than just sitting in her room alone all evening and staring at the walls.

  “Hi...” Hannah mumbled nervously. What else was she supposed to say?

  “Hi. You’re new here, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Jen. What’s your name?”

  “H... Hannah.” Even just saying her name was difficult, how was she supposed to express all the things that had been bouncing around inside her mind and driving her mad since she had first seen Jen?

  Hannah felt like Jen could tell what she was thinking just by looking at her, that she knew just how many times Hannah had fallen asleep with Jen’s name on her lips and her own fingers caressing herself. She found herself blushing uncontrollably.

  It was perhaps for the best that Jen clearly wasn’t someone that looked for the other person to take the initiative, otherwise the two would have stood there in awkward silence for hours. As it was, Jen was a girl who was very comfortable in herself and her desires. Hannah was a pretty girl and Jen could tell immediately that Hannah was attracted to her, so what possible reason could there be to not take her home and play with her?

  When Hannah was a young girl and inclined to fantasies of being a princess she had always pictured in her mind the handsome prince who would ride up and rescue her from whatever peril it was that she was trapped in. He would be handsome, of course, and brave and strong and he would want her for himself and would do anything to have her.

  Jen wasn’t what she had pictured, but now, just a few scant years later, she could barely think of anyone else. But then, was Jen really so different from what Hannah had imagined? She was gorgeous and had such confidence and courage about herself, and she made it clear that she wanted Hannah, even if in her girlish fantasies the prince’s intentions had never been quite so carnal.

  The first time they made love Hannah was too nervous to be a very active participant. Fortunately, Jen seemed happy to do most of the work. Jen pulled off Hannah’s clothes and gradually discarded her own. She hungrily explored Hannah’s body with her hands and mouth, not giving her the chance to say no. Hannah wanted Jen, even if she didn’t know exactly in what way she wanted her. Her shyness made her want to hide but Jen wouldn’t let her.

  Hannah returned her kisses eagerly enough but she really wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be doing with her hands and those moments when Jen clearly did know what she was doing with her hands on Hannah’s body were making it very hard for Hannah to really concentrate on anything. Jen smiled as she stroked lightly through the curls of hair over Hannah’s pussy.

  “You prefer to stay natural?”

  Hannah blushed. It wasn’t something that she had really put much thought into. She knew that some girl’s did shave down there, of course, but it had never really occurred to her to do so. The feeling as Jen lightly ran her finger down the edge of Hannah’s lips was enough to make her arch her back and moan softly. Jen kept smiling, enjoying watching her reactions. She licked her finger and lightly dipped it between Hannah’s lips. She was deft and certain in her movements. Hannah was too absorbed in her pleasures to be embarrassed.

  A short and noisy orgasm, followed by a longer and even noisier one later and Hannah was left dozing contentedly. Jen was sat back in bed rolling a joint from her stash and feeling quite happy with the state of the world, even if she hadn’t managed to climax herself during what had gone on. She could always deal with herself later if she was still in the mood.

  Jen had gathered that Hannah was very inexperienced when they had first spoken but she had assumed that she would at least have had some experience. She might have been more careful in her choice of lover if she had realised that Hannah was truly a virgin. Usually there was too much risk of emotional complications with virgins. As a rule Jen preferred to do what she did with people that had the experience to understand what was happening and not try to make something of it that it wasn’t.

  Hannah wasn’t exactly a first and only for Jen. She had been there for three years and had already had pretty strongly held ideas about who she was when she had first come to university. She had so far slept with sixteen girls and five guys, the most recent being the previous weekend. Mostly it was pretty casual stuff and so far none of the guys had been given a second chance. She didn’t have any specific problem with guys that didn’t have one with her but she had yet to find a cock that was worth going back to for more.

  Her female lovers that had proved rational enough to enjoy a good thing without bringing negatives into it she was happy to return to on occasion but she didn’t like to feel like she was ever in a position that others were dependant on her. Her pleasures were supposed to be transient and casual, free of commitment and obligation, beyond the courtesy of attending to each other’s pleasures as mutually as possible.

  Hannah had a look of adoration in her eyes when they awoke the following day and in part it made Jen wary, mostly though it just made her feel horny and horny will triumph over wary more often than not. She was used to getting away quickly the morning after and it wasn’t an unreasonable claim by her that she had to get to a lecture. Hannah was normally a diligent student but that morning she was too dazed to even think about getting up. She lay in bed for a long time after Jen left her. She brought herself to a powerful orgasm that sti
ll felt like just a pale echo of the pleasure that Jen had been able to stir in her. She had to see Jen again very soon.

  Hannah looked extremely embarrassed when she sidled up to Jen later that day.

  “I’d like to... it’s your turn, isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You did so much for me and I... didn’t really do anything for you.”

  “And you’d like to do something for me?”

  Hannah nodded, finding it difficult to hold a level gaze with Jen, which was making her stare at Jen’s breasts more than she might have intended to.

  “That sounds like fun.”

  Hannah spent a long time stroking her hands over Jen’s body. She felt tight and solid, strong but feminine. Despite the turmoil of sensations she had been going through last time she had been paying enough attention that she could now mimic what Jen had done to her. Fortunately, Jen enjoyed having done to her what she had enjoyed doing to Hannah. Hannah loved the feel of Jen’s breasts and the way that the nipples pointed a little bit upwards. Her own breasts were bigger and heavier and hung lower. Jen said she liked them and Hannah was happy to take her word for it.

  Jen had got her first tattoo when she was seventeen and had added one a year since. The swirling pattern that covered her upper arm and trailed onto her shoulder was beautiful, but it was the small pictogram above her pussy that caught Hannah’s attention the most. Jen told her that it represented strength. Hannah kissed it gently, hoping that it would grant her a fraction of Jen’s self-possession.

  Though nervous and inexperienced, the kisses that Hannah scattered over the perfect smoothness of Jen’s pussy were driven by passion and were enough to open the lips. She found herself remembering her handsome prince and the way that she had imagined him kissing her, as she locked her lips on Jen’s and kissed hungrily, her tongue dipping between them, her face held close by Jen’s strong thighs. Jen’s grip tightened on her as she was consumed by paroxysms.