Lordship Rights

[LordLuck]

(Closed for Sweet_Secrets)

Lord Rhys was furious.

It had been three weeks since his wife had let him lay with her. Three weeks. Lady Alana was as attractive as he could hope her to be, and he considered himself lucky that his father, the late Lord Rhys, had made the pact for him. It was another of the old castellan's alliances that now benefited his son in almost every matter. She was smart, but also moody. Too moody for him.

She was diseased. The monks and medics whispered of the plague. Alana, fearing to spread the dreaded pest to her beloved husband, denied him her bedchamber, hoping it would be for the best. But still, he had his own urges.

The idea had struck him as he rode about his castle's neighbouring village. The poor hamlets usually hid some precious jewels, sometimes girls that his soldiers laid with, thinking he wasn't aware at all; a place without any palisades, composed of two dozens of decrepit, small houses, where a family of 5 or usually more dwelt, thanking Rhys for his benevolent rule. It was a simple place called Cragford, the settlement protuding from the steep cliffs where his Castle sat upon, ruling the dale with fair, but severe order.

Rhys was tall, his trimmed beard adding to his stern features, his broad shoulders speaking of a more than capable warrior. And there was Lord Rhys, accompanied by three of his armed soldiers, inspecting his lands, when he reached Cragford's Mill.

 

[Sweet_Secrets]

Mary Rosewood Green was an odd woman when compared to the other villagers in Cragford. It wasn't because of her looks, for she was the acknowledge (and lusted after, much to the ire of the wives and girlfriends of the men) beauty of the village. It wasn't because she couldn't do household for she could do the work of five women in a day. It wasn't because she was unapproachable because she was one of kindest, friendliest women you'll ever meet in the little village.

No, she was odd because she was intelligent. She had a sharp mind and knew when to either give in or keep going until she got what she wanted. Raised in a small village that encouraged a woman to spread her legs and not her words and certainly not her temper when it was about the men, she was noted but not outed for it thanks to her looks. Though she did become bit of a pariah after she debated hotly and passionate with the priest at only the age of nineteen and won. She had redeemed herself a year later after that, just a bit, when she married Jonathon Green, the miller and a normal (read: bland, more interested in lands than his wide) man. She did a good thing, her neighbors said.

She certainly didn't think so. Her marriage was one of simple convenience for both families and not anything else especially to her. Her husband, a good man, was a passionless soul and only touched her five times only to have children who would help him with the work at the Mill. He was a lucky man because except for one time, which resulted in a still born, she had given birth after each time and it resulted in a son. The tanned, raven-haired beauty smiled at the thought of her rambunctious, lively sons as she busied herself outside the mill, checking on it since her husband had injured himself last week and could not do it himself.

If there was anything that she loved about this married life of hers, it was her beautiful sons. Her children were the light in this draby, boring marriage with their endless amount of energy and cheerfulness and loving devotion to their mother. She loved them too, with all her heart, and would do anything for them. Right now, she was extremely worried for her sons' future since the mill was not as efficient without Jonathon to take care of it thanks to that back injury of his. The doctor said it'll heal soon but it would take a month and they needed to pay their fees in a week. She was a smart woman but Jonathon knew what to do with this blasted mill.

While she pondered her predicament, she noticed that she could hear the faint beating of hooves and Mary turned to the direction of the sound. It was the Lord Rhys! She blinked her black eyes, surprised, and frowned in confusion. What did the Lord want with the Mill? Surely they weren't that far behind in taxes. Taking one look at her children, who had run behind the Mill to play a game of hide and seek, and at her husband, who was also watching the Lord through the window of their small home, Mary set off to meet the Lord.

Any woman would have felt embarrassed for the handsome Lord to see them in their working clothes, especially if they stretch across the bosom and the hips like the way hers did, but Mary cared not. She was proud of her childbearing status and the full, heavy breasts and wide, lush hips that came from it. When the Lord and his men stopped in front of her, she curtsied and looked up at him with intelligent, if not way, eyes. Visit from the Lord was nothing but trouble in her opinion.

"Good day, Lord Rhys," she said, bowing her head in respect, midnight black locks falling to frame her face as they escaped her messy bun. "What does the Wood family owe to gain a personal meeting with you?"

 

[LordLuck]

Indeed, the words had not spread in vain. The Miller's Wife was indeed one of the most gorgeous woman he had even seen. It was not her face, it was both her port and her other... assets that had called for Rhys' presence this day. Some whispered she was a troublemaker, and that's why had His Lordship come into the village - to meet and censure that woman that thought of herself so much as to discuss with the local priest, Father Ronald.

The fat, bloated man was very vocal on how did she felt about 'that whore'. And in Rhys' every thougth to make her 'that whore', after all. Her large breasts and wide hips surely meant that she could bear and bring many strong children. Even now he could hear the faint laughter of, probably, one of her sons.

"The Woods family owes me much, woman.", he spat brieft and brute,"Where is that fool Jonathon?? Creek, seize him!"

One of his armed guards simply bashed his way beside Mary in order to fetch the Miller. However, Jonathon was smarter than trying to resist a younger, larger man than himself. Walking with the help of a stick, he trashed around compliant as Creek held him by the shoulder, and led him away.

"Woman.", said Rhys, taking his horse forth to have her move away in order not to be stomped, "Get into the mill. And await for me to come in."

He said, turning his back unceremoniously towards Mary in order to speak to Jonathon, and catch his prey. The Miller owed him tax in work. So, Rhys would make the Miller's Wife 'work'.

 

[Sweet_Secrets]

Knowing she could not fight back or even talk back against this man, Mary bowed her head in respect, mumble a few words of false interest and could only watch as Jonathon talk to Lord Rhys about their late fees, a worried look in his usually calm demeanor, and eventually go to their little cottage. This wasn't a good sign at all. The last time he had gone to a village, the others said, he had bedded half the women there since his current wife was with the plague. While Mary was on the receiving end of their tongues and gossip, but their information was usually correct and wouldn't say such things about their Lord unless they had reason to.

Hopefully, the Lord will understand and give them a few more weeks to full pay their debt. Jonathon would get better soon if he just had time to rest himself. For now, she could probably sell her little jewels and find work at the pub. If Lord Rhys allowed them to have the time, of course. Most likely, he wouldn’t and… Her stomach twisted at the idea that was in her head next. It was comforting at all.

As she walked to the cottage, she looked around for her four, healthy children to reassure herself. Her children could be seen now and then as they race around the mill and the, all four of them strong and healthy and full of life and also completely innocent of the happenings that were taking place right now. Some of them, like Henry and John, were close of age with the younger pair, William and James, tailing close to them within the next few months when it would become their birthday.

“Mother!” her oldest son, Henry, called out as he stopped mid-run to look at her concerned face. He looked back, dark eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the Lord Rhys all but interrogating his father. “Mother! Is something wrong? Why is the Lord here?”

Mary wanted to explain to her son but knew better. He would tell the others if he did and the children would be just as tense as she and Jonathon. There is no way that she will allow her children to worry and fuss about something she and their father can fix by themselves. She waved an airy hand in the air, smiling in a forced, cheerful manner.

“Worry not, Henry,” she said, continuing her way to the cottage. “They’re just having a discussion, worry not. Now, go play with your siblings a bit more. I’m just heading in to make dinner for us.”

He stared at his mother but finally nodded his head, rationalizing that she would tell him if anything was wrong if it was wrong. He turned to run back to the others, laughing and whooping as they resumed their chase. Mary watched them for a few seconds, glowing with pride as they all ran without any ailments or signs of impairment stopping them. Perhaps Henry was the best example of Mary’s mothering period. Her oldest son, he had survived childhood which was a miracle itself. He was clearly strong and healthy even for a low class boy, with his body lean and muscled from all his work and there were no signs of smallpox on his tanned, clean skin though the disease had struck the town only a few months ago.

After that, Mary went inside and untied her front apron/dress as she was no longer in door and thus need it no longer, letting it drop to the floor and she stepped over it and picked it up, now just dressed in her white dress and no corset that was evident by how her nipples poked through the fabric due to the slightly chilly weather they had in here. She undid her bun, letting her long, raven locks fall down and frame her face and went around the kitchen/living room, lighting the candles to provide warmth while her husband and Lord Rhys spoke. Hopefully, it’ll end well for them all.

 

[LordLuck]

To be childless for so long was taking a deep toll on Lord Rhys' mind, depriving him of sleep. After all, the one thing that his wife Alana
had, really, HAD to provide him beside a warm bed was a healthy heir. She was providing nothing. His mood did not improve as he had heard, three days earlier, that Sir Reginald Front Du Boef had started again to harass his traders at the Carterburg's Great Fair. That oaf.

And worse, Reginald had been heard speaking in dangerous tones against Rhys. That would mean armed conflict, of course, lest the King himself interveened. But he would not. After all these years, the King still made war beyond the sea, trying to bend his new principalities into submission. Rhys had never left the land. To fight peasants that would defend their worthless, sterile lands with their seat and blood was... a gruesome point.

This woman would make a fine, fine mother. After all, she already was.
If that crippled fool of a Miller had managed to had a band of little brats, he was more than sure he'd be able to sow his seed into fertile valleys.

And so, after almost an hour talking, did Lord Rhys entered the hamlet that protuded from the Mill. Tall, broad-shouldered, he sported a well-trimmed brown bear, grown to cover his face. Dressed in dark green finery, he laid his well-crafted sword over the doorstep.

"Woman,", Rhys called out for her, "Come, and hear me."

 

[Sweet_Secrets]

Thinking that the Lord Rhys would either grant them a longer time to gain the money or tell them no and state a deadline, either way a quick but brutal answering, Mary started to make food for her husband when he came back. It would take only a little while to make the soup and the bread and when she was done setting the table, she told herself as she carefully washed the vegetables, he'll be back inside with news of their future and some sort of plan.

But as an hour passed and her husband still hasn't come in, and he still talking to the Lord Rhys when she peeked outside one of the windows, Mary Green could not help but wonder what this really was about.

Had Jonathon been accused of some sort of crime against the Lord? It could not be for while Jonathon wasn’t the easiest person to be with, he was a smart man and knew not to cross the line with his logical nature and penny pinching ways. Was it about her debate with Father Ronald? Surely not! That was years ago.
Unless this was about her current debate with the oaf, when they had accidentally crossed paths and he attempted to question her sons’ legitimacy much to her anger.

If it was about that, she was more than happy to explain her reasons. Can a mother not defend her children and her husband’s honor no matter how attempts to fight it?

But… She peered close at her husband’s form, seeing how stiff and how cold he was even with his bad pains and it puzzled her more. It took so much to get him that agitated. What was going on there that would make him react in such a way?

“Perhaps I should go out,” Mary mused but no sooner had she said those words, the door swung open and Lord Rhys entered her home, not her husband.

He was said to have command of a room when he entered. That was true, the wife of Jonathon Green knew now. His presence, his mere person in the room had struck her in silence, her dark eyes wide in surprise. What was the Lord doing here in their humble home? She calmed herself, deciding to observe him since there had to be a reason for him to be here. She watched him lay his sword, a finely crafted one that could no doubt harm her family, she noted with fear, and observe her as well. How old was the Lord Rhys? Certainly younger compared to her, as shown through his vitality and handsomeness that was part of the Rhys' Family line.

"Woman," the Lord Rhys said to her, not bothering to her name, "Come, and hear me."

Mary could not help but give him a stern look that she would give to Jonathon if he called her ‘Woman’ like that and not her real name. It did not matter if he was the Lord. She still had a name after all. Huffing, she nodded stiffly at him and walked over, keeping her hands clasped over her full, lush breasts that strained against the white, slightly see-through dress of hers. She looked at him straight in the eye, her dark eyes boring into his, as she tilted her head with faux confusion.

“Anything you need, my Lord Rhys?” Mary asked, her words polite and demure but with an undertone that demanded answers.

 

[LordLuck]

For quite some time did Lord Rhys just stare down at Mary's chest, his eyes fully drinking her beautiful form and his lips distorted in one, amused sneer. This one was a fighter. A woman who, despite being a simple peasant, knew what she wanted and what she would not like to, and knew full well what could be going into his own twisted, perverted mind.

She was quite a gorgeous, if strong-willed peasant. She was not afraid of standing up to a priest and daring to be condemned a traitor and a heretic. Rhys had seem many woman being called witches and worse before. Thrice had he seen a burning woman at a village's main crossroad - since calling it a plaza would hardly be proper.

Father Ronald disliked her, of course, but knew that a woman who liked to discuss her principles, although as rare as that was in Lord Rhys' domains, did not told her as a servant of the devil or something as sinister as that sounded. The older priest was just too much accustomed to have his flock well controlled to incite a public uprest like the burning of a witch. And for Mary's luck, Jonathon was the best Miller in the region. If he did get himself more harmed, well, Rhys' would have to hunt for another capable operator to this village's Mill, and that meant expenses.

"Insolent woman.", Rhys did not think twice as he perceived her undertone, her nerve showing as she did not avert her eyes in respect. Rhys lashed out his hand at her face, slapping her soundly with the back of his gloved hand.

"Father Ronald is right, after all. Jonathon does not take good care of his wife."

As she looked into him in shock, Rhys' sterner gaze faced her, silently demanding her to bow in respect rather than simply staring back.

"Your family owes me many, many silver coins, woman. And the Miller might have been far too slow and shaken to properly take good care of you and your children, neglecting both you and me our due."

"So, after much discussion about how and why should I not have the Miller hanged, we have finally reached a common ground.", his eyes glittered as his low voice spoke of his well-planned wishes. "Your husband and I have shared a proposal and signed it. You, Mary, is to serve me personally, in any wish I may have. You shall wash me, feed me... lay with me, every time I feel the need to."

 

[Sweet_Secrets]

Being slapped was surprise to Mary. Never once, in her entire life, was she slapped. She was shouted at, threatened and, yes, even groped to the point she had bruises the next day but she was never physically harmed once. No one had dared to strike her in fear that it will ruin her clear skin or blemish her beauty but this man was willing to do so. The sound of the slap resounded in the little cottage, no doubt gaining anyone's attention if they were close enough to hear it.

Her gasp, one of anger and shock, showed it when her head was forced to one side by the sheer force of Lord Rhys' slap, making her look out the window that (thankfully) had the curtains pulled together to keep the chilly winds away. She snapped her head back at him, her midnight eyes holding indignation and affront that she had been slapped. Peasent or no, she was an adult woman! She was no child. How dare this man, the Lord of her husband's lands or not, treat her like this.

The fact he had done so because she had not grovled at the sight of him only fanned the flames of her intense dislike for this man. He was an utter pig in her eyes, he was!

She looked at him, never bowing but glaring at him with undisguised contempt and hatred. Her tanned skin showed the bright red of the slap but her stubborness and dignity stood tall like her full, ripe frame. It was replaced with horror and shock, and some hint of arousal?, when he revealed his reasons of being there: She was apparently his mistress now. A deal made between him and her husband in order to pay off their debts. She knew that they were behind but she never thought that they were in such despair that she had to sell herself to save them.

The woman was floored, speechless for a few seconds before she regained herself and shot back at the man without thinking. Damn the consequences! Like she would let this injuistice happen to her and she'll just keep quiet about it.

"What?! Are you serious about those insane claims?!" Mary said, something in her just snapping. She was just sold off like that? Like some sort of cattle? How dare they do that! How dare the Lord treat her like some meat that can be eaten and used. How dare her husband, the one who had vowed to protect her on their wedding day, sign off like this. "I will do no such thing, or things for that matter, with you! You, you sir, an utter bully and pig. I'm more likey to swallow boiling water than touch you. Much less lay with you and have you cake my insides with your seed."

Taking several steps back, she kept her distance from the man and continued to glare at him. "Give me one good reason why I should even do such a horrid thing with you," she demanded, her temper bristling, her knuckles as she gripped the wooden chair turned white. She had to resist the urge to throw the chair, seeing it would get her nowwhere except an enraged Lord and a broken chair. "Tell me why I should be willing to take off my clothes be let you climb and piston in and out of me! I am a good woman, no matter what that stupid priest says, and I a good wife which means I will not cheat on my husband with another man.

 

[LordLuck]

Lord Rhys had already lifted his hand once again in order to hit Mary. What an insolent whore. Who did this woman thought that she was? A queen? A sister superior into some kind of monastery? The prioress of the nearby convent? A noblewoman? Not even those would dare posting up such a blattant challenge to him, a noble, Lord of the land that she dwelt.

"It is exactly because you are a good wife and mother that you'd not wish for your husband to be hanged, and have your children taken away from your care and given to a monastery to become lay servants of a fat bishop's twisted desires. Would you be held responsible for why your loved Henry would be sodomized every night, woman?"

The nobleman's face was red with contained rage, but slowly he lowered his palmed glove, his voice dangerously low like some predator's warning growl. He liked this woman. Indeed, no other could had been so hot, so resistant, so arousing! What a treasure was her! A powerful woman, who would bring him many strong-willed heirs.

"You would hate to see your husband hanging for a whole month outside, to have his eyes plucked by the crows and his fingers eaten by the cats, would you, woman?"

The door had been welded shut by his brusque entering, and the windows were closed by the curtains. Outside, surely, his guards were probably hearing their discussion. Maybe her children were as well. And that was what Rhys hoped she would consider. Would she risk her children welfare? He doubted it.

"So that is exactly why you are going to shut up and service me, woman. That is exactly why you are going to do as your husband and I agreed. You shall lift your skirts for me and take in my every pounding and swallow my every drop of seed I wish to sow you and take my manhood wherever I wish. Because you are a good wife."

"Now, lay on the table, and spread your legs, Mary."

 

[Sweet_Secrets]

Once again, Mary finds herself stunned into silence by how crude and simply awful Lord Rhys truly was. Were all people of riches and noble lines like this man? Surely not for what made them have the Good Lord's graces of wealth and comfort when there were more hardworking, decent and nice people out there working for every drop of sweat and creak of bone they made to earn their food and money. Mary felt physically ill and actually had to touch her stomach to settle the upset churning in it, her breasts straining against the white dress as she struggled to control her breathe.

His threats against her own children, her own husband if she didn't lay with him, let him use her like she was some tavern whore and not a devoted wife with dignity and bearings to keep, made her just lose her infamous sharp tongue and wit and just stare with shocked, shocked black eyes. Black, expressive eyes that peered at him as if to really ask if he had just said those words to her like that. The look quickly left and she glared/stared at him sullenly and bitterly, knowing that, yes, he had said those awful, horrid words to her just because he wanted to get in her skirts.

But there was no denying the fact he said those words to her in order to make her submit.

Or the fact what he said was true.

Her sons would suffer… Her husband would suffer if she did not agree to this man’s twisted desires. The idea of them being in agony and she could have prevented it was a horrible idea in her mind and Mary instantly caved into those threats. She bowed her head and spat on the ground near his feet before she walked to the table and laid on it, spreading her long, long legs wide as she hitched up her skirts for him to see her naked, hairless sex in between those legs. She now regretted the fact she did not wear undergarments under her dresses just because they were hard to wear when doing chores. It would make Lord Rhys take longer time to undress her and it meant he wouldn’t be touching her as soon.

Her cunt… Oh God. She felt herself actually become wet, the penetrating gaze of him staring at her tight, naked, hairless pussy, it being hairless was more of hygiene than anything, making it respond to it so much. Mary was ashamed that she was being aroused to such a state and furious, what a surprise!, that a man who wasn’t her husband was seeing her in a vulnerable, intimate way.

Gritting her teeth, the idea of her poor husband and children suffering being the only thing that made her not snap and throw something at the man, she hitched her skirts up until her lower body was utterly naked, her legs spread lewdly to show herself.

This was the 'hero' of the village? If he was the hero, she hates the idea of what made a 'villain' to them.

“I am only doing this for the honor of my family,” she said, her tanned skin blushing a dusky red across her flushed face, her breasts heaving against the fabric of her dress as her nipples poked through it. She looked faintly humiliated and embarrassed by this, knowing that the guards outside could hear them if they were to be… loud. That was the last thing she wanted in this situation, really. For people to hear them. Her family. Oh! Her family! She crossed herself and plead with the Lord to distract her children as this vile sin was happening. “I-I do not do this before I am eager to be your slut, Lord Rhys. Mark those words, if you will.”

 

[LordLuck]

Slowly, Lord Rhys walked about to stop himself just behind Mary, watching with great amusement as his own anger subdued and dissipated at her shown of unsatisfied submission. Yes, of course she would not be satisfied to be treated like a woman should be. The Miller was a soft, old, effeminated man that could not teach his womans the proper manners before her betters.

"It seems that your womanhood begs to differ.", he smiled in glee as he saw how receptive and wet did Mary actually was, despite her words of repulse and barely contained fury. "Before this day is through, woman, you will learn how to properly serve me, and you will come to revell in it. You will love taking my seed. You will beg me to have my manhood into your mouth, and you will suck it like it's the only thing you ever want. You will plead me for my seed, and will voraciously swallow it all."

He said mockingly into a sneer, slowly taking down his pants and umbuckling his belts, preparing himself to delve deep and harshly into the woman. The gorgeous woman, that would bear him his heirs, that would become his own personal slut, that he would bend over and take her whenever and wherever he wished.

Laying his cold hand over her right buttock, he felt with glee how soft she was to his touch, how warm was her spotless skin. How had that peasant had the chance of laying with such beauty, while he had to be serviced by the young serfs or by the maidens in the Castle? Taking his other hand to her left buttock, Rhys used them to spread out Mary's cheeks, witnessing how ready she was to meet his girth. And so, giving himself for satisfied, he did take his considerable erection to her backside, sliding between her buttocks, ready and teasingly.

"Know, woman, that once we are through, you shall be taken to the castle. You shall work for me and under me. You shall accept my seed and take it all. You shall bear me... an heir."

 

[Sweet_Secrets]

It was an humiliating experience for Mary, no lies about that. For her to even be aroused in the slightest of ways with how he was treating her was horrifying. For him to notice it and to pick it up, rubbing it in her face -- Though it was peferable to the other items he could have rubbed against her face, now that she thought about it -- added enough shame and humiliation on her part to just want to crawl somewhere and die. Her tanned skin flushed even more, her anger fighting with her arousal and shame and they all seemed locked, entwined with the other until she could not tell what feeling was what and how she should repsond to his wicked words.

"Bodies l-lie but the he-heart does not," Mary managed to stammer out as he slid his erection in between her warm, round buttocks that were taut and firm from her many hours of work and he simply marked himself like he was some animal and that he owned her fair body. To be fair, he most certainly owned her now. Otherwise, someone could be doing this to her precious babies and that was something she will never allow long as she lived. If she must endure... endure this, feeling his hard, long length probe against her as if waiting for a chance to stab her, so be it. "I react for my body is blind to the wickedness and vileness that you truly are. My heart and my mind, however, see the pig."

She gritted her teeth, trying to fight the sensations she felt when he struck another bomb against the poor Miller's wife. "Know, woman, that once we are through, you shall be taken to the castle," he informed her casually as he stood in between her spread legs, his cock erect and hard already to the point she could feel it throb against her being. God's Death! Was he to plunge into her fertile wombs soon as possible? "You shall work for me and under me. You shall accept my seed and take it all. You shall bear me... an heir."

Someting in the usually firey Mary snap. The idea of being away from her poor children horrified her. Her husband, a good man he was, would be strict to the boys and use the switch on them more freely if he was not here. They would be tormented by the gossips of their playmates from the other families if she was gone and living with Lord Rhys for it meant the one thing she was: She a Whore Mistress now. They would be taunted and made fun of, their births questioned cruelly by children and adults alike. All because she was not here.

No. No! She would not have her children endure something like that.

Mary actually begged then, "You cannot take me from my children!" Mary protested with shock, shock that this news was only being told to her now as he was going to claim her. "Mercy, Lord Rhys, mercy! My children need me! I need my children. A woman's job is to bear and raise those children and it will be an utter sin if I go away from them for even a day. I... I am willing to be your whore, I am, but I will never be willing to leave my children behind just so I may be a breeding mare."

The commotion from the cottage could be heard by anyone if they were close enough. The gaurds certainly could her and perhaps her husband, Jonathon. Her oldest son, her beloved Henry, certainly could. Curious, the now adult son walked up and headed to the cottage wondering what that noise was all about. Had something happen to Mama and Papa? Could not be for Papa was outside, sitting on the stump with his head in his hands. Who was Mama talking to?

 

[LordLuck]

"Louder! Louder, woman. Make every one in this neighbourhood to know that you are mine!"

It was with a both gleeful and sorrowful smile that Lord Rhys started to rub himself against her backside, his hardness already aching at being neglected the enveloping feel of a woman's insides in order to become another tool in the teasing game that Rhys was playing.

"I hear that you are now willing to play your part. However, I would hardly refer to you, my dear, as my whore.", he said, his voice slow and ever more lustful, his hands grabbing tightly against her buttocks, and spreading them around in order to create even more pleasant friction. "You are my breeding mare, woman, and I am your stallion. You shall lay with your husband no more. You shall only spread your legs for me."

He said, his balls rubbing themselves against Mary's womanhood, her natural wetness betraying her true feelings of utter disgust and shame about how she was being handled by her Lord, the man that had received her family's oath of loyalty in exchange of protection. No thought was further away from his mind right now.

"Your children will keep living here, woman. Be thankful to know that your husband will receive more than thiry gold pieces a month. And you shall be allowed to see them... when you are not developing your... 'assigned duties'. My heir will need his mother much more than a peasant's offspring needs theirs."

His voice was both coated with disregard and venon. If Mary wished to be a hard woman, he would make her life even harder. Sliding his erected member under her, this time, Lord Rhys started to use it's lenght to rub against the peasant's labia, spreading them around his size - but not yet claiming her.

 

[Sweet_Secrets]

If looks could kill, Lord Rhys would be dead several times over with how intense the loathing was in Mary’s dark, smoldering eyes as he continued to humiliate and degrade the haughty, confident peasant like she was some sort of whore and not the honorable wife of Jonathon Green. She hated this bastard for what he was doing to her and herself for being so aroused that the smell of her sex was evident in the air of her humble home. How could her body betray her like this to a pig like him? How?

It was a question she knew, one day; she’ll have an answer to. All questions will be answered, her father once told her as he helped her read and write even though it was against the law for a commoner like her, and a woman period, to be educated. But, for now, she had to be content with the fact that her neither children nor husband were nearby to hear or see this shameful sight. She was still irritated and dishonored by Jonathon’s betrayal and letting her be use this way as if she was up for sale like a tool but she was still, no matter what, his wife and she was commanded to be faithful to that bastard.

While she wanted to strangle her husband with his own guts and toss him into the shit and piss filled river that lay in the village, she hated the fact that she was betraying her vows for she had pride in keeping her word.

She must be content with the fact that if she did this, her husband will be spared of the rope, her children will remain unmolested and the finance troubles they were having as of late will be solved. Long as she was willing to be the Lord’s ‘breeding mare’ of course. If so, fine. It… It didn’t hurt that the Lord was handsome and she did not need to cringe at the sight of him panting over her as he caked her insides with his seed and fucked her across or over any surface he deemed fit for their consummation. She had seen the other Lords of the lands before, when they had come by and stopped by the village for the briefest of seconds to check the women and she made it a point to avoid their wandering eyes, and knew this was a genuine upside to her situation.

Mary then gasped when she felt his balls, large and heavy and simply throbbing at this point with his desire, rub against her womanhood. Her pussy tingled and more honey flowed out of her in response to his rubbing against her tender, pink opening. Her legs shook and her tight, full and nubile body jerked with suddenness of this new tactic of his. A very successful tactic, she must grudgingly add. Moaning, having never felt like this before ever with her tame husband, Mary’s eyes darkened even more but this time with lust. Her full, lovely breasts, straining and just begging to be free from their confining clothing, heaved up and down and jiggled with natural buoyancy when Mary arched her back from how strong the feelings of the shivers were when they ran up and down her back.

“Swear to me that you are telling the truth,” she said in between her heavy pants, her hands gripping the edges of the table until her knuckles became white and snowy, a strong contrast against the beautiful tan she had on her body and lush curves. “That my family shall be fine and well provided and that I… I can see my… my children if I am not in my duties to you. I… I am willing to do this with consent if you swear that to me, my Lord.”

As proof, she spread her legs wider for him and rubbed her wet, sweet cunny against his heated erection and balls to show her new loyalty to the man. With shaking hands and heavy breath, she reached for her upper gown and unlaced the fronts, letting her large, heaving breasts finally see the open air and the Lord’s piercing gaze.

They were round and full, abundant in flesh and much in buoyancy and tanned, silky skin. Her nipples, a pale pink, were pointed with desire and stimulation and her breasts were the epitome of both softness and firmness that came for a woman after she did her part of the Lord’s work and gave birth. She offered her breasts to his mouth and hands as she groped her breasts and pinched her nipples. Her moans become louder and sluttier, her willingness to do this with the man genuine and sincere for she never ever had once felt like this before with her husband. It was betrayal, yes, but one she could not help but look forward to now for this man had awoken something in her that was long denied.

 

[LordLuck]

"And who are you, woman, to even think about questioning a nobleman's word?", he spoke out loudly, just enough that it might be heard outside. Lord Rhys grew ever more impatient with this woman - however, her defiance was so much amusing. After all, most of the peasants would just lay down and spread their legs for their Lordship instead of standing tall and risk a powerful slap, or even rape from the hands of the noble and, maybe, his grunts.

"If a vow is what you need...", he lowered himself over her body, his eyes darting down her buttock's crevice up, from her luscious, large hips to her lithe back. Rhys was sincerely admired that a simple woman like Mary, the wife of a mere serf and a serf herself, could be so, so alluring. So sensual. "... you have my word and promise. I swear upon your body...", he said, his callous hands wandering around her backside, "...that I shall uphold my words as my honour. You shall be respected by every soldier, and you every wish shall be sated. You shall be allowed to see them. I shall cover yourself in gold and jewels as it is only fit for my Mistress..."

"I shall caress you, and spoil with the many gifts I can bestow. A fine deal any day, eh?", he laughted at her ear, his hardness growing ever more solid as the signs of her arousal flowed down her womanhood and over his sensitive skin.

The Lord kept snuggling over her, his own weight pinning her at the table even more than the sheer, massive pressure of his groin against her backside. A beautiful ass that even now Rhys dreamed about abusing of, making complete use of every of her orifices in order to please his sensual desires - and to Mary's bad luck, Rhys was a more than active male, his prime reached and still far from passing away.

"You shall live in the Keep. Should the Miller allow it... I shall allow your children to sleep at the rugs bellow your bed. Perhaps you'll visit my own chambers more than I do yours...", he smiled wickedly, his eyes hungry and ever eager to cease his talking and making use of her.

"Are we understood?", and with this last phrase, Rhys adjusted the tip of his erection at Mary's lower lips, soaked with her own longing for a throughout fuck.