Pixie Isobella

‘Of course, you are now the youngest adult woman living on the estate,’ Lucy Daventry spoke with her usual emotionless elegance, her words striking dismay into Rosamund…

A new resident at the luxurious Crest Estate, Rosamund Clare is not looking forward to meeting her neighbours. She already knows she isn’t going to fit in among the wealthy couples, most of them older than her.

But soon, she discovers that the exclusive and picturesque Crest Estate has a dark secret… Will Rosamund be able to escape or will she become the compliant fucktoy for the men of Crest Estate?

Betraying Rosamund: Chapter 3

[Betraying Rosamund contains non-consent erotica, free use, older men fucking younger women and gender betrayal. All characters are over 18 and the story is fully fictional. Chapter 1 is here.]

‘Of course, you are now the youngest woman living on the estate,’ Lucy spoke with her usual emotionless elegance.

She waved a gloved hand in Tamara’s direction, drawing Rosamund’s attention to the 50-ish old lady.

‘Mrs Dallas has been performing the function very well — at least until your uncle remarried.’ Her lips tightened in displeasure. ‘At that point, of course, the responsibility passed over to the new Mrs Clare,’ she spoke as if chewing on bitter citrus. ‘A responsibility which she declined to uphold — to the great mortification of the entire community. I do hope,’ she spoke coldly, ‘that you will not follow in her footsteps.’

‘We agreed to release Mrs Clare from her responsibilities if your uncle found the estate a different option,’ Mrs Grainger said flatly. She met Rosamund’s eyes with her usual steely expression. ‘And here you are.’

‘But it…’ Rosamund broke off, looking between them all, and not finding any sympathy. ‘It’s ridiculous,’ she said, feeling exasperated. ‘You can’t expect me to…’

‘We’ve all done our share,’ Tamara spoke for the first time. ‘I served every man on this estate weekly for more than three years,’ she snapped. She looked pointedly at Rosamund, seeming to draw attention to the younger woman’s age. ‘Now you are the youngest female resident. It’s your turn.’

‘If you like, you can think of it as your chance to give back to the community for all the work we all put into making this place such a perfect home,’ Mrs Carroll re-entered the fray.

‘It’s perfect because you’re not even married,’ Lucy spoke with some relief, Rosamund thought. ‘Our husbands are going to enjoy you so much! Anyway, how else were you going to be filling your time here? Particularly given you’re not married.’

Reading books, Rosamund thought rather blankly. Fixing the already too-perfect garden. Finding a job… The concept of needing to make jobs up to fill her time had never occurred to her before.

‘So… these rules…’ Rosamund tightened her grip on the thick wad of house rules. ‘You know they’re not enforceable,’ she added, feeling ill — this was such an awful conversation. ‘I don’t want to upset any of you but…’

‘Of course, they’re enforceable!’ Mrs Carroll snapped. ‘They’re lodged with the district council, and everything. This is an old-fashioned place, Rosalyn,’ she added. ‘I’ll warrant that many of the other old estates in this area have similar rules. No matter what modern laws you have in your big city,’ she almost sneered, ‘I can assure you that no court in this county would uphold any complaint you made.’

‘You only have two choices,’ Mrs Grainger spoke, rather triumphantly, Rosamund thought. ‘You can provide the services required, without complaint, or you can leave Crest Estate. Though I imagine,’ she added, ‘that you might find it financially difficult. I understand you can’t sell the house and that your uncle’s bequest does require you to live here?’

The words were framed as a question but Rosamund could tell that the woman was merely reminding her of the facts. Rosamund had no idea how they knew about the details of her uncle’s bequest but they were right, damn them. She couldn’t leave the house. She simply couldn’t. Damn, she had been stupid to ever move here.

‘You can’t force me to have sex with your husbands!’ she snapped, wanting to tear the ‘house rules’ in half.

‘We are not forcing you to do anything,’ Lucy tittered. She pulled out a separate sheet of paper, handing it to Rosamund. ‘This conversation is a courtesy only. The men will expect you to obey them whenever they arrive for a session with you. Here’s the fortnightly schedule they’ve worked up,’ she added as Rosamund read blankly down over the typed words, hardly taking them in.

‘You will start this evening,’ Mrs Grainger said. She flicked a glance at her watch. ‘In ten minutes’ time, to be precise,’ she said, clearly delighting in her moment of power. ‘I’m sure the men will return to collect you shortly. They’ll all fuck you in the Daventry’s lodge tonight,’ she explained, shocking Rosamund with her casual use of the word ‘fuck’. ‘But you’ll be expected to make accommodation for the men at your house from tomorrow morning.’

Rosamund swallowed, wishing she could just concentrate for one moment. Every taunt by her ex-serious-boyfriend, Theo, kept intruding into her mind. That she was stupid to leave her old city. That she should stay there and be dependent on him. That she would be miserable here.

Her skin felt chilly as she held the piece of paper in her hand.

Mr Glen Daventry — Friday night (after dinner) Mr Earl Grainger — Friday night (after dinner) Mr Paul T Carroll — Friday night (after dinner) Mr Trenton Dallas — Friday night (after dinner)

Mr Joe Curzon — Saturday 12pm Mr Bill East — Saturday 3pm Mr Dean Hillston — Saturday 7pm

‘Your…’ Rosamund’s voice failed her, and she swallowed again, licking her lips before trying again. ‘Your husbands think they are going to fuck me tonight?’

She thought the world had gone mad.

‘They’ve been looking forward to it,’ Lucy smiled at her again, as Rosamund started to wonder what would happen if she just stood up and walked out.

That’s why all the men have been dropping in on me, she thought faintly, horrified. To check me out. Because they think they have a right to fuck me. They think they’re going to fuck me. And I’m not even sure what I can do to stop them.

‘I’m not doing it,’ Rosamund spoke loudly, wishing she didn’t sound so shrill. ‘It’s absurd!’ she added, waving the sheet in the air. ‘I can’t do that. You… You can’t be expecting me to… Why it’s…’ She quickly completed maths in her head. ‘There are twenty men living here,’ she said, feeling like she was falling into an endless pit, ‘and you said I have to service each of them once a week, that’s like… three men a day!’

She stopped, breathing hard, suddenly aware she was almost shouting.

‘I can’t do that,’ she spoke helplessly, hating herself as she realised that she had gone from complaining about the situation existing at all to complaining about the goddamn schedule.

‘My husband is the men’s representative,’ Lucy Daventry spoke coolly, dismissively — clearly sick of Rosamund’s continued arguments. ‘I suggest you express any dissatisfaction directly to him.’ She shrugged. ‘It really isn’t anything to do with me, or any of us. We’ve all done our time. Like I said,’ the woman added, ‘this conversation is just a courtesy.’

‘You did this?’ Rosamund tried to keep the disbelief out of her voice as she looked at the elegant older woman.

‘When I was younger,’ Mrs Daventry said coldly. ‘I saw it as my duty. I wish that you felt the same.’

‘I had to do it,’ Tamara said viciously. ‘I don’t see what makes you any different.’

‘I can’t fuck three men a day,’ Rosamund felt like she was near to tears arguing with them.

‘Well, the men hold a meeting every two months where they will discuss any requests that you may make,’ Lucy said coldly, clearly at the end of her patience. ‘As well as any disciplinary procedures they intend to enforce against you,’ she added with a flicker of triumph.

Rosamund swallowed at the reminder of ‘disciplinary procedures’ — she suddenly had very vivid images in her brain of how this community could apply discipline to her, and her stomach clenched tightly.

Lucy seemed to sense victory within her grasp.

‘As Glen said to me earlier today,’ she smiled at Rosamund, ‘you really don’t have any choice, my dear. Trust me,’ she glanced at Tamara, and the other woman coloured slightly as if feeling guilty, ‘our husbands are very persuasive when they want to be. As Glen said,’ she added, clearly reciting from memory, her tone perfectly reflecting her husband’s usual cheerful casualness: ‘“The girl will get used to it soon enough once we start shafting her three times a day!”.’

That’s horrific, Rosamund though, feeling suddenly faint. Her response died in her throat as Glen Daventry re-entered the room, the other men visible behind him in the wide entrance corridor to the Daventrys’ luxurious house.

‘Is she ready?’ he asked his wife. ‘We’ve had enough waiting around.’

He didn’t even look at Rosamund as he spoke. She flinched at the thought of him fucking her — apparently, according to the ‘schedule’ in her hand, he was to be the first in a long line of men.

‘If you’ve explained the situation to Miss Clare,’ Mr Daventry continued, ‘then I’d like to head down to the lodge, and get started.’

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.

When she agrees to be bridesmaid at her cousin’s wedding, Abigail doesn’t realise what she is getting herself into…

Abigail had no idea that her cousin’s wedding would be an orgy of brutal sex.

She didn’t know that she would be ravished again and again by the men of the bridal party.

No-one told her that she would soon become a bimbo, a sex-toy obedient to her master’s every whim…

The Abigail’s Descent Trilogy Bundle contains all three of my “Abigail’s Descent” books! If you enjoyed Betraying Rosamund, you might enjoy:

• The Bimbo Wedding – available at All These Roadworks and Smashwords
• The Bimbo Bridesmaid – available at All These Roadworks and Smashwords
• The Bimbo Bride – available at All These Roadworks and 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