‘Let’s have supper while the bitch is working it out,’ Lord Marlowe said roughly. Suddenly, Summer wanted to scream, hating him for mocking her and humiliating her like this.
Summer is a princess… But she craves wickedness and depravity. When she agrees to a tryst one night, she doesn’t realise she is being set up for two of the most villainous lords in the Royal Court to torture and fuck…
Summer’s Engagement: Chapter 12
[Summer’s Engagement contains non-consent fantasy erotica, female submission to male characters, erotic torture and object insertion. All characters are over 18. Chapter 1 of Summer’s Engagement is here]
It took far too long and it was also far too soon when the men finally pushed their chairs back and rose from the table, walking across to stand over Summer.
She looked up at them helplessly, hating how much she was in their power — and how little resistance she had left in her.
The pain in her breasts had dimmed to a dull ache that she knew would rise into a fiery agony when the nipple clamps were removed. Her cunt was unfortunately wet and soaked, her body still clenching mindlessly around the intrusion.
Lord Arendt met her eyes, a triumphant look in his own. She knew she looked defeated and she couldn’t bring herself to even glare at him.
‘I wish I could do this to you every night, princess,’ he informed her, a curl to his lip. ‘Unfortunately, you must be delivered to King David tomorrow and in at least respectable condition. But don’t think I’m not going to enjoy you between now and dawn.’
‘Respectable condition?’ Lord Marlowe asked. He had brought a cup of wine across with him from the table and he took a long draught. ‘Does that mean we can’t brand the bitch?’
‘Unfortunately not,’ Lord Arendt’s lips tightened with dissatisfaction.
‘Shame,’ Lord Marlowe replied as Summer’s head spun with sudden terror. He must have noticed her reaction because he moved to stand over her head, a cruel look in his eyes. ‘Arendt and I always brand our sluts,’ he informed her. ‘On the inner thigh,’ he added, clearly gloating at the look of fear on Summer’s face. ‘Where no-one will see it but the men come after us,’ he added with satisfaction.
‘Unfortunately, we won’t be able to brand the princess,’ Lord Arendt said again, and relief tempered Summer’s terror. She couldn’t imagine how much that would hurt — a hot branding iron to her skin, marking her forever as their discarded property.
Lord Arendt continued speaking.
‘Her housemaid comes for her at six, so we’ve got a fair number of hours left. I’ll go first, then Marlowe, then you can have your turn, Makepeace. Then any man who wants can have a second serving,’ he chuckled softly under his breath.
‘Much obliged, m’Lord,’ the serving man said in his rough voice.
Summer moaned softly, too tired to complain. She was desperately grateful that she was only subject to these men for one night — she could imagine all too easily how Lord Arendt would have used her night after night, and she wouldn’t even have been able to complain to her parents as her own part in the trysts must remain secret.
Lord Marlowe settled himself down between her legs and Summer screamed in sudden shock as he pushed the devices they had left inside her back into her with a strong hand, stretching her wider open again.
Her head was still spinning at the thought of being branded, and suddenly she wanted to cry at how ruthlessly Lord Arendt and Lord Marlowe thought they could use her.
‘She’s wet,’ Lord Marlowe informed the company, his hand working between her legs to fuck the devices into her slowly, pushing them insistently back into her again and again as her body instinctively sought to reject them.
‘Fucking her will be like fucking warm butter,’ he chuckled. ‘Damn, I don’t want to take these things out of her though,’ he laughed softly under his breath. ‘We’ll have to get another playtoy in the castle to train and break,’ he spoke across Summer to Lord Arendt.
‘Indeed,’ Lord Arendt spoke smoothly. ‘There’s the wife of a nobleman I have my eye on. He needs the money and even more importantly he needs the royal family’s ear. I reckon the lord will let us do what we want to his wife in exchange for that.’
‘Is the girl pretty?’ Lord Marlowe asked, still torturing Summer. She couldn’t believe they were talking about the next woman they were going to violate while preparing to fuck her.
‘She is,’ Lord Arendt said shortly. ‘Big, dark eyes, big jugs,’ he sniggered unpleasantly. ‘A slender neck, narrow waist. She’s young too — I wonder what boon her husband would accept for us to get her pregnant,’ he snickered softly.
‘I’ll bring someone up from the country as well,’ Lord Marlowe grunted, suddenly using his strength to force the items hard into Summer — she shrieked again, unable to believe how wet and invaded her body felt. The horrid things seemed to go deeper into her each time as her body learned how to open up for them.
‘There’s a peasant girl I’ve got my eye on,’ Lord Marlowe continued ruminatively. ‘She’s not married yet and I’m sure I could buy her for a song. I’ll get her set up somewhere discreet and we can enjoy her daily.’
‘Heh,’ Lord Arendt sniggered unpleasantly. ‘You’re lucky you’ve got estates,’ he added. ‘Well then, shall we fuck Miss Summer here?’ he continued, and Summer whimpered suddenly to feel the attention back on her.
Things moved far too quickly after that for her liking. The men pulled the items out of her cunt one by one, and she whimpered uncontrollably at the sensations, especially as the two large sword handles teased her entrance again as they exited her. Thankfully they let her breasts loose too, spiking, blinding pain flooding through her as the clamps were released.
Dimly, through the pain, she felt them releasing the horrid corset around her waist. The pain ebbed, leaving her riding hide on a tide of endorphins stronger than anything she had ever felt before. She honestly wasn’t sure she could even stand — her head was swimming and her vision was blurred.
Every part of her felt soft and malleable, and she whimpered softly in complaint as Makepeace picked her up and carried her back over into the centre of the floor, laying her down helplessly on the carpet.
They’re going to fuck me on the floor, Summer thought vaguely. She knew this was just another insult, deliberate and planned. Lords Arendt and Marlowe would gloat secretly to themselves about how they had fucked sweet princess Summer on the floor like an animal.
She trembled at the image but she was completely unable to resist — the torture had broken her utterly and she wasn’t even sure her muscles worked anymore.
Please follow me for more stories! In the real world, remember to always play safely and practise positive, informed and enthusiastic consent that is respectful of all genders.
Have you read my other fantasy story, Serafina’s Gift?
When she receives a mysterious sex toy in the mail, Serafina is too excited to ask questions about who sent it… and why. But her gift bears a supernatural curse – and Serafina can’t stop herself from succumbing to its addictive pleasure. Serafina finds herself descending into a world of rough, degrading gangbangs – helplessly submissive to anyone who wants to use her…
Read the full novel at All These Roadworks or Smashwords!
It’s not a manifesto
I write a lot of M/f non-consent erotica, including enslavement of women, degradation and forced breeding. They are not an expression of how the world should be. Everything I write should stay in the hot world of fiction and play. It should absolutely not become part of the real world.
© Pixie Isobella
Pixie Isobella 