‘Is she ready?’ Mr Daventry asked his wife. ‘We’ve had enough waiting around.’ He didn’t even look at Rosamund as he spoke. She winced inside at the thought of him fucking her… ‘If you’ve explained the situation to Miss Clare,’ the man continued, ‘then I’d like to head down to the lodge, and get started.’
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 have sex with younger women and gender betrayal. All characters are over 18 and the story is fully fictional. Chapter 1 is here.]
‘If you’ve explained the situation to Miss Clare,’ Mr Daventry said, ‘then I’d like to head down to the lodge, and get started.’
‘I’m not doing it,’ Rosamund said furiously, rising to her feet. ‘I’ve been trying to explain…’
She broke off as Mr Grainger and Mr Carroll entered the room, each man moving to flank her and capably grabbing one of her arms and pulling both arms behind her back. Shocked, she didn’t even resist.
Lucy rose to her feet, gesturing to the other women to follow her lead. ‘Miss Clare understands the situation and seems to still have some doubts,’ she pursed her lips. ‘Our task being done,’ she added, speaking directly to her husband, ‘I assume that I can leave our guest in your capable hands?’
Rosamund flushed as the two men holding her tightened their grip. The women filed out of the room, none of them looking at her. She wanted to scream.
‘Of course,’ Glen said cheerfully. ‘We’ll take her down to the Lodge, darling,’ he said, presumably referring to the small cottage Rosamund had seen off the Daventrys’ long drive. ‘So we won’t disturb you,’ he added, patting his wife companionably on the arm.
‘I have no fear of that,’ Lucy said coolly, her eyes flickering across to Rosamund with little sympathy in them, before returning to her husband. ‘You are the experts,’ she said stiffly. ‘Nevertheless, as we all learned with Mrs Dallas, I believe that a quick resolution of Miss Clare’s concerns will allow all of us to relax and get on with our lives.’
Rosamund flushed, suddenly furious with the older woman. Older women who imposed their own power onto younger women had long been one of her pet dislikes. She remembered how the whole group of older women had insisted that they had had the same experience in the past — and therefore she would have to submit now as well.
‘I agree. You may leave her with us, my darling,’ Glen spoke with more seriousness than usual, looking across to meet Rosamund’s eyes as his wife left the room and shut the door behind her. ‘There are four of us and one of you,’ he spoke coolly.
He deliberately glanced down to look at Rosamund’s breasts before looking back at her face — a calculated move to make her feel even more objectified, she thought.
‘If you don’t object to some blunt speaking, Miss Clare,’ he continued, ‘we will be as brutal tonight as we need to be to make sure you understand your role.’
Rosamund gasped, wrenching at the men who were holding her, hardly succeeding in even loosening her arms.
‘You’re an arsehole,’ she snapped, seething.
She couldn’t believe what was happening. Mr Daventry looked so calm and collected, and the whole episode was moving with practised precision — sickly, she realised that they had done this before, and maybe even rehearsed it.
She couldn’t believe he kept calling her ‘Miss Clare’, as if politeness mattered when they were about to fuck her.
‘As the men’s representative,’ Glen said, ignoring her name-calling, ‘it is my responsibility to get you in line as quickly as possible.’ He nodded at the other men. ‘Let’s get her down to the Lodge so my wife can have her sitting room back. We’ve taken up as much of the ladies’ evening already.’
He winked at Rosamund as if he was making a joke — as if the most important thing in the evening was his wife’s comfort, she thought bitterly.
‘You can scream as much as you like once you’re at the Lodge,’ he added. ‘Trust me, Miss Clare, no-one will hear you.’
‘No, please, stop,’ Rosamund begged.
She was suddenly feeling pitiful. The men were pulling her arms painfully tight behind her back and she could feel Mr Dallas fitting some kind of cuffs around below and above her elbows, attaching them to each other to pin her arms cruelly behind her back.
‘This can be quick and easy, love, or harsh and slow,’ Mr Grainger sniggered, speaking for the first time.
He slid his fingers underneath Rosamund’s chin, forcing her face higher to look at him. She flushed — there were tears in her eyes and she hated him seeing them. She could already tell Mr Grainger was an unpleasant man.
‘I’ve been living here for forty years, darling,’ he said bluntly, holding her eyes with his own. ‘I’ve had more first nights with sluts like you than I can remember,’ he chuckled softly. He glanced at the other men. ‘I think I can speak for all of us when I say we’ve got the routine down pat. I don’t anticipate any trouble from you.’
Rosamund blushed hotter, trapped between fear and fury.
But he was right. There really was nothing she could do — the whole ridiculous estate was so big, she couldn’t even consider trying to run, she thought bitterly. Based on what everyone here had said tonight, it wasn’t like any of the other residents would help her.
Not for the first time, she missed her old, familiar, poorer but kinder neighbourhood.
‘Let’s get her out of here,’ Mr Daventry repeated, walking across to Rosamund with what looked suspiciously like a dog leash in his hand. ‘Like my buddy Earl said, this can be easy or hard,’ he said casually to her. ‘We can physically carry you down to the Lodge — you’ll get some bruises and you’ll piss us off a bit, my dear. Or you can walk with us, like a good little bitch. Which will it be?’
He grinned, showing her his teeth, and she shivered — his gloves were coming off, she thought vaguely.
She forced herself to speak. She had to go with them, but her pride forbade her going without any resistance at all.
‘I’m not…’ Rosamund started to speak, only to shriek with shock as Mr Daventry actually slapped her face, his hand landing hard across her cheek.
‘You are,’ he said with significance. ‘We are all going to fuck you tonight, Miss Clare,’ his voice was steely and cold. ‘You can scream and cry through the whole thing, like a whining slut, or you can choose to accept it with the grace and dignity of the proud ladies who have gone before you — like my wife. The choice is yours.’
‘You’re going to rape me,’ she whispered, trying to bring some sound into her voice.
Mr Daventry smiled. ‘It’s not rape in this county,’ he said flatly, echoing what Mrs Carroll had said earlier. ‘It’s lawful intercourse, and I’ve been looking forward to it for two days,’ he spoke with all the ease of assured power. ‘Ever since I saw your fuckable tits,’ he sniggered, with less urbane calm that he usually showed. ‘Now, are you coming quietly, like a good little girl?’
Rosamund gulped, biting her teeth together. Her arms hurt and she didn’t want more violence. She could tell how it would go if she tried to resist them — the men would simply carry her or drag her, taking pleasure along the way from groping her and enjoying her humiliation.
Even if she tried to break free, she couldn’t run with her hands behind her back, and the stupid tight pencil skirt and high-heeled boots she had chosen to wear to this formal dinner only made everything worse. It seemed stupid to acquiesce in her own violation but she also didn’t feel like she had any choice.
She flushed again as she saw Mr Daventry’s smile broaden — reading her acquiescence and taking it as a victory.
‘I’ll… I’ll walk with you,’ she whispered, hating him. ‘This… This is wrong, but I won’t fight you,’ she said, the tears threatening to overwhelm her again.
‘That’s a wise move,’ Glen congratulated her, handing the leash to Mr Dallas who clipped it to the cuffs on Rosamund’s arms behind her back. Glen gestured with his head to the glass French doors that led out onto the patio. ‘Get walking, Miss Clare,’ he ordered her. ‘It’s not far. And then the lads and I can have our fun.’
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.
When I put intense play into my writing, it’s never a description of how these types of play should happen in the real world. There are a lot of people out there who can provide advice on how to do these things for real – listen to them and not me! Love you all 💖
© Pixie Isobella
Pixie Isobella 