Content warnings for this story (click here for guide):
Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed in her new home, shaking with anger. Lord Charles’s manservant had carried her struggling form upstairs and deposited her like a sack of wheat, before locking the door and leaving.
The bedchamber was luxuriant. Silks from the East, an ebony four-poster, inlaid furniture…ugh, and the art. No doubt expensive but disgusting. She wrinkled her nose at a scene of a slave girl being examined by her leering master.
A shudder ran through her as she recalled her own examination, the eyes of the villagers upon her as her skirts were lifted and her drawers taken down for her fiance’s probing fingers. She had been devastated with shame, too humiliated to say a word as the wedding carriage rumbled her away.
So she was now Lady Fleetwood, wife to that animal downstairs. What a wretched fate.
The lock clicked and Lord Charles entered.
“Still dressed, my dear? This will not do.”
Elizabeth scowled at him and folded her arms.
“I am tired and wish to sleep.”
Lord Charles laughed a little.
“I’m not surprised you’re tired, after all your screeching and complaining at the ceremony. I had to examine you to see that I wasn’t marrying some village whore.”
Elizabeth shot him daggers.
“Especially,” continued Lord Charles, “since I plan on training you to be MY little whore.”
Elizabeth gasped, picked up a hefty paperweight from the side table, and threw it at her new husband’s head. He dodged and picked up the antique, tutting. Elizabeth glowered at him.
“I shall not be your…your whore! I had no wish to be your wife!”
She stomped past him toward the door, but Lord Charles grabbed and held her firmly. He took hold of a hank of hair and pulled it taut until she gasped.
“Now then, my new little wife. I have you in a good position. I do enjoy your spirited rages at me. They give me ample motive and opportunity to correct you.”
Before Elizabeth could protest, he pushed her face down onto the bed and pinned her with a hand on the small of her back. Elizabeth kicked but could not stop him lifting her skirts once again and pulling down her bridal drawers to expose her bottom.
“No! No! Let me up this instant, you disgraceful man!”
“My,” smirked Lord Charles, “You squeal like a schoolgirl. I suspect you never received the right instruction growing up, but that’s part of a husband’s job.”
He unbuckled his belt and, with one hand still holding his bride in place, delivered a stinging stroke to her hind.
“Ahhhh!” Elizabeth cried. The pain was like nothing she’d ever felt.
SLAP. With a cool whoosh of air and a fiery bite, the leather hit her again.
“No! No!” cried the struggling girl. “No!”
“Oh, I do enjoy seeing you wriggle, my dear,” purred Lord Charles. “I think a good spanking will make you a much sweeter little wife for me.”
Elizabeth bucked in pain and indignation but the hand held her fast.
“It’s agony! Agony!” she gasped. “You beast!”
“Arghhhh….” Elizabeth’s head span as her bottom burned. Surely he would stop soon. Surely!
“You know, you look very appealing with a bright red bottom,” said Lord Charles, delivering another two brutal strokes.
Elizabeth’s eyes were streaming and she kicked at the air as the pain swam through her.
“Oh yes,” mused Lord Charles. “I think that’s enough spanking for now. You’ve had quite an effect on me, my dear Lizzie. I think you need to address that.”
He removed his imprisoning hand and a red-faced, teary Elizabeth span round to see the outline of his hard cock against his breeches.
“No…”she moaned. “No…”
“No?” asked Lord Charles. “You don’t want to be a good little bride for me? Very well.”
He flipped her back over and delivered a volley of six hard strokes, making her yelp and twist in pain.
“Now?” he enquired.
Elizabeth could take no more of the belt. She dumbly nodded.
“Very good,” said Lord Charles, laying the belt on the bed and allowing her up. He unfastened his breeches and exposed his erect cock.
Elizabeth closed her eyes, pleading for mercy or a way out, but none came.
“That’s it,” said Lord Charles. “Get down on your knees like a sweet girl in church and show me what a diligent wife you are.”
Elizabeth hesitated, unable to bring herself to do as he asked, so Lord Charles took hold of her hair again and brought her to her knees. He held her nose until she opened her mouth, and made her take his cock between her lips.
Holding her in place with her hair, he forced himself into her mouth, pushing cruelly to the back of her throat until she gagged and tears came. He pushed in and out, commenting on what a good little slut she was being for him, then held his cock against the back of her throat to stop her breathing.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she struggled for air, unable to get away. She flailed silently and eventually Lord Charles drew back and allowed her to inhale and cough, grateful for air.
“Up!” he commanded, and a miserable Elizabeth stumbled to her feet, drawers around her ankles.
Lord Charles bent his bride over the bed, her punished bottom still sore and red. He pinched it and rolled the scarlet patches between finger and thumb, drawing winces and yelps.
Then he pushed deep inside her, making Elizabeth gasp as she was filled. Lord Charles moaned with pleasure.
“Oh yes, this is quite how I imagined your tight little cunt to feel, Lizzie dear. Hot and wet and snug.”
He pushed vigorously into her, fucking her roughly like a street tart. Elizabeth was mortified to feel herself responding to his thrusts, and her own hips began to push back onto his cock. She groaned and blushed as she did so, wanting another thrust and another.
Lord Charles’s body jerked against her as he came and as he pulled out of her, Elizabeth sank to the floor. A sticky wetness seeped out between her legs.
Lord Charles had refastened his clothing and stood over her, triumphant.
“My, but I do believe my virgin wife has proved very lively indeed. Such a good girl for her new master.”
Elizabeth looked up blearily, exhausted from her ordeal.
“Indeed, I am most pleased with my bargain,” said Lord Charles. “And I shall enjoy sharing my findings in time. But for now, I suggest you sleep and I’ll have supper brought to your room. I will return later to inspect my work.”
He left and fairly bounded downstairs. Elizabeth crept into bed and lay awake, fearing what might come next.