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MEDIEVAL MARRIAGE

Slowly, she crept through the crooked doorway and became chilled from the hard cobble stone floor, against her bare feet. Looking around at her new home brought her such despair and hopelessness... From now on, her days would be as dark and cold and empty, as the cottage itself, where she now stood. Only a tiny bit of sunlight shone in through a crack in the wooden shutters. She thought perhaps that she might be able to open the wood covering and allow light and warmth into the dank, dirty house. She stopped herself as she reached to pull apart the heavy pieces of oak. She was owned now... married, bought and paid for, and totally at the mercy of her new husband. He paid her father little for her hand, but the family was poor, near starving, and so they had no choice but to accept. She had no suitors and certainly, none that could pay for her love. This man had no interest in her love... he only had use for her services. Though she was old to be unmarried, she was still young enough to make use of herself. Her husband was older than she, by at least ten years. Winter was again approaching, and he did not want to spend another one alone. Taking care of household chores and himself and the hunting was beginning to take its toll for him and so he decided he needed a wife. He was tall with dark hair and cutting eyes... he had no time for sentiment or emotion. He had other needs, and she was there, to meet them.

         He circled around her as she stood staring down at the dirt covered stones beneath her feet. He latched the door and all light vanished. She began to tremble with cold and fear as he removed her shawl, exposing her bare shoulders. His filthy fingers ran up and down her young, supple flesh, gliding down to her shaking elbows. She had earlier that day, before the ceremony, laced her bodice tightly, in effort to keep herself from him somehow. To shut him out from her body and to protect her delicate, virginal skin from the thick calloused fingers that she knew would want to touch her. Placing both hands on her shoulders, he began unlacing the thick wall of material that was her only protection. Panted labored breaths escaped her, as she grew more terrified by the moment. She wanted more than anything, to throw up her arms and push him away and run through the woods, back into the arms of her family. Just as these thoughts were playing out in her mind, he was telling her that she was his wife and his property, to do with what he pleased, and that she must obey him at all times. Once she was completely unlaced and had only a thin white undershirt to shield her, he tossed her bodice onto the bed and pulled a broom around so that it was directly under her nose. Immediately, she gripped it with both hands and was thankful for once again, having some sort of barrier between him and her.

         He said he was to hunt now and that she would earn her keep and clean his cottage while he was gone. He told her that he expected food waiting upon his return. Tears welled in her eyes after he was gone, knowing truly, that every day of her life hereafter was to be just the same as this. She began sweeping and thinking a million thoughts. Thoughts of a Prince coming to rescue her, thoughts of cruelty, thoughts of escaping in the night... but still, she knew this was her reality and so she continued on with her chores. A few rabbits hung outside from a tree and there was a bucket full of vegetables along with a few potatoes, sitting next to the fire pit.  She cleaned a rabbit the way she had been taught long ago, sliced the carrots and shredded the carcass meat. She had started a fire earlier and now it was hot enough to cook upon. She walked to the well and filled a large heavy bucket full of water... enough for the two of them to eat two days worth of rabbit stew. Dumping the water into the large black pot over the fire, her thoughts immediately raced home... there, her family was probably preparing their meal as well...everyone was just about to sit down and together, sharing in the day's events. The cheerful glowing of the firelight nearly brought tears to her eyes once again. A few hours passed and she left the stew simmering, until she heard him approach, crackling branches and leaves under his heavy leather boots. She rushed to her feet and filled two large bowls with the stew and set them each on the small rickety table. She stood behind her chair as he walked in, smiling sinisterly, at the new sights and smells, from her being there. As he looked down at the table, suddenly, his smile vanished. He eyed her bowl and asked her what that was... she stammered out that it was stew and she began rambling frantically about how she had made it with his rabbits and his vegetables and potatoes. He snapped his arm back and slapped her to the floor, shouting that he knew what it was... her face throbbed where he struck her and her tale bone smarted from landing so harshly on the stone floor. Silently, the tears streaked down her cheeks. He told her it was presumptuous of her to have made a bowl for herself... that his needs come before hers and that she should have waited for his permission before fixing herself supper. He told her that she had not yet earned her keep, therefore had not yet earned the right to be fed. She sat silently on the ground, weeping for herself. He had not told her to be silent, only reached back from his chair and struck her quivering mouth. He said he would not be bothered by her, while he ate. She was hungry and had a very trying day... looking at her stew up on the table, that she prepared, growing cold, made her angry and miserable... much more so than before. This man was cruel, pure and simple, he had not a good bone in his body, she was convinced. She sat in silence, plotting his demise.

         He ate noisily, even demanded more. It burned her to the core of her being that he could be so crude and thoughtless. When he finished, he pushed himself away from the table and leaned back in his chair. He ordered her to clean up after him and to throw her stew back in the pot. She was told that she would not be allowed to eat tonight. She could feel his dark eyes watching her as she cleaned. She felt that he could see through her thin top. Her skirt still hung long and full and when she moved close to him, he lifted it slightly with his foot.  She turned and bent to scrape her uneaten bowl back into the pot and when she did, she could feel the heat from his body directly behind her. Quickly, she turned and her face landed in his chest. He stroked the back of hair while he massaged her shoulders with his free hand. He pulled her to him and she whimpered and resisted. He chuckled and told her it was futile to push him away... that she was his property and she would perform anything he wanted for the sake of his pleasure. "No", she half cried, half begged. Suddenly, the stroking on the back of her hair stopped and a handful of it was grabbed as she was pulled toward the bed. He pushed her onto the mattress face down, so that she could feel straw sticking through the cloth, scratching her delicate face. He rolled her onto her back, raising her skirts, so that they bunched up around her waist. Her arms developed minds of their own and began flailing at his advancements. He yanked the thin material that covered her breasts as he gathered her wrists and held them down firmly on the bed. Once her garment was ripped and her plump breasts were exposed, he reached between her legs and stroked her bare sex, roughly and painfully. She was a peasant girl and had no undergarments to shield her modesty. She cried loudly as her new lord and master became dangerously excited. The fire in his eyes glowed with evil deviant thoughts. His sex raged inside his pants. He released it and plunged into her. She begged softly for him not to hurt her but he paid no attention. He entered her tiny hole and blood flowed everywhere. He used her like a beast, grunting and thrusting into her fragile body. Again, she attempted to throw him off. This time, he was so involved with his pleasure, that he made a fist and began blindly striking out, wherever his punches landed. A few crunched into her ribs, a few bruised her face, more caught her arms and legs and even a few managed to land on her breasts. She was completely docile and paralyzed with fear. She simply lay still and submissive, as he continued. Beating her had aroused him even more, so it took only moments for him to finish. She felt his seed explode inside of her, feeling it's terrible heat and power. Just barely finished, he pulled out of her, the end of his cock dripping with cum, the same liquid expelling from her hole. She curled herself into a ball and rolled over on her side. She wept hysterically and uncontrollably. Rather than offer any support, or even another beating, he simply pushed her off the edge of the bed where she landed on the cold, gray floor. He told her that she would sleep there, until she earned otherwise. The candles were blown out and the cottage was pitch black. Lying there on the cold floor, was then that she realized his indifference was worse than anything. Even though he had beaten and raped her and made her go hungry, she would rather have slept with him, instead of be ignored and forgotten, on the hard ground, where she was out of sight... and undoubtedly, out of mind. She was determined to behave better tomorrow, to earn the right to sleep in bed with this terrible cruel man... She knew that being beaten was better than being neglected.

Early the following morning, she woke at dawn, before the sun had even risen. She tiptoed around the cottage, being extra careful not to wake him. Scurrying around, bare foot and sore, she managed to find some already made bread and ever so softly, started another fire. Knowing the bread would not be enough, she searched frantically for something more. There were not oats, no grains, only the leftover rabbit stew that she had prepared the night before. So, she let it simmer and warm a top the small fire, heating it thoroughly enough too hopefully satisfy him.

         Every muscle and joint in her body ached. Certain spots, where his fists had landed, even burned. Her hips felt worn to the bone, from lying on the cold, miserable floor. She labored trying to breathe from the beating she took on her ribs. Her back was stiff and the tender muscles between her thighs felt torturously stretched. She had never opened her legs in that manner before and those muscles had never really been used. Her white under garment was stained a deep brown from the now dried blood of her virginity. She felt filthy and her crotch was caked with his soil.  She wanted desperately to go outdoors and clean herself, but she knew that opening the door would surely wake him.

         The stew was again warmed and she began setting a place for him. Suddenly, he stirred in his bed and groaned. The cottage had been so deathly silent that his movements caused her to jump, dropping the bowl to the floor. She could only look down at it and weep at the terrible noise it had made. Suddenly, mortified, she looked up... the beast had risen. He threw the covers off of his body and swung his feet onto the floor. He sat on the bed for only a split second, before, jumping to his feet and lunging at her. He said nothing as she crouched down to pick up her careless mistake. Her hands shook violently, as did her entire body as he approached. She wanted to tell him how sorry and careless she was, but she could not make the words come out. She was grabbed around the throat and thrown back nearly landing in the fire. She cowered in the corner against the warm stones of the hearth, as he pointed to the bowl and growled for her to pick it up. Slowly and cautiously, she crawled for the bowl and kept her distance from him as much as she was able. Her arm extended far to reach it and remain out of his way. Without warning, his foot landed squarely on her outstretched wrist, crushing it and pushing it to the floor. The girl gasped loudly from the surprise and pain. She stared up at him, almost silently pleading for mercy. He had just now realized, for the first time this morning, that he did in fact have a wife... that she was there to do his bidding. He chuckled at the thought, and at himself, for forgetting. Quickly, his expression turned angered and again, she tried to shrink back. But his foot was planted too firmly on her arm and she had no escape. As she pulled her head and body back, the back of her hair was grabbed and pulled towards him, as he had other ideas in mind. He did not yet release her hand, but continued to pull her closer to him, intensifying the terrible suffocation of her fragile wrist bone. She did not want to resist, but could not help herself because of the agonizing tension on her hand. Still, he pulled her stronger than she could hold back, and soon, her face was a mere finger tips length away from his swelling sex. It grew harder and angrier, the closer she got to it. Finally, it was at full force, thick, veiny and wanting to hurt her. She was told to open her mouth and she now understood what was expected. She heard some of the village girls speak of doing things like this, but she never thought anyone ever really did. Now, she was about to. She lunged forth, trying to ignore the pain shooting up her arm... her wrist and fingers had gone numb now and only the slight movement of his foot reminded her that she was firmly secured to the floor. Licking her lips, and swallowing hard, she wrapped them gently around the head of his penis, not really knowing what else to do. The back of her head was smacked, and she began sucking. At first, she suckled on only the tip of his cock and the moment his legs started to quiver, her face was shoved cruelly up the length of him. It plunged into her throat, catching her off guard. She gagged and choked violently, but he would not relent. She tried to remain quiet and stifle her chokes... she wanted desperately to please him. Her soft supple lips were getting raw at the mercy of his thrustings. Saliva dribbled uncontrollably down her chin. He forced her face onto him one last time, even deeper than before. A gush of thick, creamy liquid overflowed into her mouth. Her reflexes sent it spilling down her face and creating a small puddle of it on the floor. Before she had a chance to swallow any of the juices that were filling her orifice, the foot that crushed her hand, swiftly moved to the back of her neck. Her face was shoved into the floor and she knew to do nothing else but lick up what she had spilled. She heard him laugh quietly and smugly and suddenly, a warm glow came over her. Something in her body stirred and she felt her own nipples stiffen. Her tongue moved gracefully and proudly, at the thought that he was pleased. The creamy white liquid coated her scratchy, tender throat, bringing it warm relief as it slid down to her belly. Her empty stomach savored the tiny amount of substance that was now in it.

         The foot was removed and she was ordered to get up and serve him his breakfast. She did so, without preparing a bowl for herself. She stood behind his chair as he ate, keeping her humbled eyes down to the floor. He did not finish his stew, but stood up and started dressing for the days hunt and chores. He was just fastening his over coat, when she lifted the bowl, in order to empty the leftovers back into the pot. She stopped in her tracks, as the heavy pounding of his boots started towards her. Again, she began to shake as he drew nearer. He took the bowl from her hands and set it back on the table. She was told that after he left, she may clean the bowl with her tongue, just as she had done with his cum, only moments before. Her eyes widened with excitement as he spoke almost kindly to her. She was so grateful for his generous offering of his leftovers, that she bowed before him and kissed his hand, thanking him profusely. He permitted her showing of gratitude for a few seconds, delighting in her new compliance and affection, then withdrew his hand and headed for the door. She was nearly giddy and overcome with joy from his approval. She would not have allowed her over run joyous emotion to cause her to forget her place, but to instill that fact, just before exiting the dark little cottage, he told her that no other food may be missing upon his return. Quickly, she shook her head and cast her eyes to the floor. With that, he was gone, and she was left alone with her chores and duties and finally able to clean herself.... But not before she gobbled down every last morsel of food that was so considerately left in his bowl for her!

                  The End.