Virgin Tales - Arranged

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Virgin Tales - Arranged Page 2

by Jean-Luc Cheri


  “But where does it lead?”

  “You’ll see. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and very soon you’ll understand.”

  I closed my eyes and focused on the pleasure I was giving myself. My breaths sped up, until I was panting loudly. Laurie was doing the same, and it seemed like whatever was going to happen, was going to happen to both of us. Our breasts continued to bump together, our nipples rigid and swollen, and sparks of pleasure flew from them to mingle with the waves flowing out from between my legs.

  “Ohhhhhh,” I moaned in a long exhale. The pleasure inside of me was coalescing into a tight ball, and all of my senses focused between my legs. I had never felt more alive than this moment.

  “Oooooh,” I groaned, and Laurie harmonized with me with her own cries of pleasure. My finger picked up speed, rubbing over my clitoris as I felt myself reach the limit of my bliss.

  For a moment, all I could do was gape silently, with open mouth and eyes wide as I felt myself going over the edge of ecstasy. My body seemed to hang there, pausing before the storm began. Then it was upon me, exploding inside like a thunderbolt, and I cried out loudly, proclaiming my pleasure for anyone to hear. My body was out of control, thrashing and convulsing as wave after wave of bliss washed over me.

  I was dimly aware that Laurie was right there with me, experiencing her pleasure as I did mine. Her free hand curled around the back of my neck, and pulled me to her until our foreheads touched. We held like that as we rode out the rest of our culmination.

  Minutes later, when I opened my eyes, we were still in the same position, both of us breathing hard to catch our breaths. I pulled back slightly, and stared at her in amazement. Her eyes opened, and she gave me a loving smile.

  “Now,” she said, her twinkling eyes locked on mine, “you understand.”

  * * *

  I stood in the great hall of King Henry’s castle, feeling every eye upon me. I had just arrived after a week-long, arduous journey in a carriage that allowed me to feel every bump and rock in the road. They hadn’t even allowed me to bathe properly before being hurried into the castle to meet the father of my future husband.

  King Henry stood in front of me, beaming happily as his eyes traveled up and down my body. He was obviously pleased with the deal he had struck so long ago, and was enjoying his prize.

  I attempted to keep the contempt off my face. He was old, yet handsome, and seemed friendly, but I couldn’t get over the fact that I was here without my consent. To him and my father, I was nothing more than a piece of livestock traded during a game of cards.

  “Greetings, Kathryn. So nice to finally meet you.” He held out his hand and I reluctantly placed mine on top of it. He bent over and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of my hand softly. “How was your journey?”

  “Painful,” I said curtly.

  He smiled and nodded. “I understand. I have informed the servants to make you as comfortable as possible. If there’s anything you need, just ask.”

  “How about a ride back home?” I asked, meeting his blue eyes with my fierce green ones.

  He surprised me by responding with a deep laugh. “Oh my, you and Gabriel are going to make a wonderful couple. Two peas in a pod you two are.”

  My eyes narrowed to angry slits. Was he actually laughing at me? I took a deep breath, preparing to give him a piece of my mind, when a young man appeared from behind and stood by his side.

  My first impression was that he looked like a pig. Short and squat, he had beady little eyes and a turned up nose. His ears were large and they stuck out like the open doors of a carriage. His eyes appraised me with a sneer, as they unabashedly swept up and down my body, taking time to linger over my full breasts.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and glared back at him, letting him know I wasn’t happy with his impolite gaze. I looked between this man and the King, and despite his ovine appearance, my heart fell when I saw a resemblance between the two. Was this my future husband? Just the idea of it made my skin itch, and I had to block from my mind any thoughts of this man putting his hands on me. This was a nightmare, and one I could never wake up from. I felt the tears welling from inside of me.

  “Kathryn,” the King said, “I’d like you to meet my son.”

  I almost fainted. So it was true. I was going to be forced to live the rest of my life with this swine of a man. My heart thudded painfully in my chest, and I tried to will it to stop, preferring death over the life forced upon me.

  “Bartholomew,” King Henry continued, “this is Kathryn, your brother’s future bride, and our kingdom’s future queen.”

  I was confused for a moment, the words not sinking in. Then I breathed a sigh of relief, realizing what they meant. This pig man was not going to be my husband.

  He held out his hand to me like his father had done, but his eyes remained on my breasts, and a leering smile played across his lips.

  I ignored him and turned to King Henry. “I would like to bathe now. I feel unclean at the moment.” I let my eyes focus on Bartholomew’s as I spoke the last sentence. His grin disappeared as his lips curled into a sneer.

  This caused another laugh from the King. “Certainly. You should be looking your best when you meet Gabriel.” He snapped his fingers, and two maids came over and took me by the elbows, guiding me out of the room.

  * * *

  After my bath, in which I sat forlornly missing Laurette, the maids, Beatrice and Victoria, helped me get dressed, lacing up my corset and sliding my dress over my head. My father had it tailored just for me, and it was made out of fine light-blue silk, hugging close to my curves and showing them off quite nicely. I was surprised the bodice was cut so low, but my father seemed quite pleased, telling me I would make a very nice first impression wearing it.

  After fixing my hair, Beatrice and Victoria led me through the castle and up a magnificent staircase, then down a long hallway. As we approached a door at the end, I could hear indistinct shouting coming from within. When we entered, the room was empty, but through a door in the back the shouting could be heard much clearer.

  “I don’t care, Mother! I’m not going through with this!”

  “Gabriel, you don’t have a choice,” a feminine voice replied. “It is your duty.”

  “I didn’t volunteer for this duty.”

  “No, you were born into it.”

  “Why can’t I just marry someone I love?”

  Beatrice and Victoria glanced at each other, and I saw an embarrassed blush creep up onto their cheeks. As for myself, I could feel my anger rising. Who did this pompous ass think he was?

  “You will learn to love her.”

  “Ha! That’s ludicrous. It is more likely we will both hate each other, and spend our entire lives wishing we were with someone else.”

  I felt an ache crawling into my stomach, and the tears trying to well up again. But I took a deep breath and pushed them back down. There was no way this jackal was going to see me cry.

  “Gabriel, you should meet her before you speak so rashly.”

  “Have you met her?”

  “No, but your father has, and he tells me she is quite beautiful.”

  Gabriel snorted. “He would say that. For all I know, she could have the face of a boar, and the body of a cow.”

  Beatrice and Victoria grimaced at each other, and took a small step backwards, as if to pull me out of the room. I held firm and glared at the door the voices were coming from. Boar? Cow? How dare he?

  “Gabriel! Don’t be rude!”

  “Rude? No, Mother, what is rude is forcing me to marry some ugly boar-faced fat cow that I don’t love, and will never love. What is rude is ruining my life without my permission!”

  I was fat now? I gripped my fists into tight balls as I seethed.

  Victoria, who realized events were going in a bad direction, hurried to the closed door and knocked firmly. The voices stopped, and a moment later the door opened a crack. Victoria and the Queen had a muted conversation, with V
ictoria making head movements back towards me, obviously informing the Queen that I had heard the private conversation between her and her son.

  “Oh,” the Queen said with surprise in her voice. “Tell her we’ll be right out.”

  The door closed and Victoria scurried back to my side, looking apologetic. “She said they’d be right–”

  “I heard,” I said, cutting her off with an icy glare. I then turned back to Beatrice. “Do I look like a boar to you?”

  Her eyes went wide. “No, my Lady.”

  My gaze swung back to Victoria. “A cow?”

  Victoria shook her head, her eyes like saucers.

  I turned towards the door, steeling myself. “This toad doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.”

  They both shrank back as the door opened. The queen appeared first, and I immediately saw where Bartholomew got his looks. She had the same small eyes and turned up nose, but on her the features seemed to fit, and there was a certain beauty about her. She was short in stature, but once again, it all fit together, adding to her allure. I was so busy taking in her features, I didn’t notice the man who appeared behind her.

  Our eyes met, and my breath seemed to leave me. He was nothing like I imagined. Instead of the older man I had pictured in my mind, he looked more like a boy, probably around my age or slightly older. Instead of the cruel, cold eyes I had been anticipating, his were clear blue and warm, with a hint of mischievousness around the corners. His lips were full and soft-looking, not twisted into the crooked scowl I had envisioned. And he was tall and lean, with a head of curly blond hair that hung down onto his shoulders.

  My anger stuck in my throat as I stared at him, and realized he was looking back at me with a shocked expression.

  “Kathryn!” the Queen said, holding out her hands as she approached. “It’s so nice to meet you. My, you’re beautiful.” She smiled wide.

  I place my hands in hers, and we stood there watching each other. Her smile was infectious, and I couldn’t help but give her a small one back.

  “How was your journey?” she asked.

  “Long and difficult,” I replied.

  “Well, you’re home now. Have Beatrice and Victoria been taking good care of you?”

  “Yes, they’ve been very kind.”

  Finally, she stopped ignoring the elephant in the room, and turned slightly sideways. “Kathryn, I would like you to meet my son, Prince Gabriel.”

  I turned my gaze up to him, and began to smile, but it disappeared when I saw his face. His mouth was now a thin line, and he was looking at me with disdain. I realized my hand was hanging out in midair, waiting for him to take it. I pulled it quickly back to my side, and returned his look with a glare of my own, my anger rising. Beatrice and Victoria took another step backward, obviously intent on getting out of the line of fire.

  After an awkward pause, the Queen said, “Gabriel, don’t be rude.”

  “I just want you to know,” he said, staring at me with cold eyes, “that I don’t approve of this.”

  I frowned and my eyes narrowed. “I feel the same way. If it was up to me, I would be back home, falling in love with the husband of my choosing.”

  “Oh dear,” muttered the Queen.

  He leaned in close, meeting my glare with his own. “I wish you were back home too.”

  “Gabriel!” the Queen said.

  I interrupted her by sticking my finger in his face. “And I’ll have you know, I will never marry anyone who calls me a boar or a cow.”

  He swatted my finger away and put his finger in mine. “If you were paying attention when you were eavesdropping, Miss Princess, I didn’t call you a boar or a cow. I said you could have been.” He crossed his arms and stared at me smugly, as if I had just been checkmated.

  “It’s the same thing!” I said.

  “Is not.”

  “It most certainly is.”

  “It isn’t,” he said dismissively, causing my blood to boil over.

  I stared at him with daggers in my eyes. “At least I didn’t have to have my father force anyone to marry me.”

  I watched as the ire flashed across his face. He leaned in close again. “I had nothing to do with that!” he said vehemently.

  I crossed my arms and smiled smugly. “Doesn’t matter. Here I am, without my consent, being forced by your father to marry you. Can’t you find your own women?”

  He frowned and leaned in closer, and I watched with interest as the veins on his neck bulged out. He was obviously searching for a retort, but nothing was coming. Finally, he gritted his teeth and turned to his mother.

  “Mother, there is no way I can marry this... this...” I arched my eyebrows, waiting for the insult. “…this woman! It’s out of the question.”

  “Don’t be silly,” the Queen said. “It’s been arranged. You two will be married in one week.”

  We both gaped at her. “One week?” we said simultaneously.

  “Of course. It’s been arranged. There is no reason to wait.”

  “But I don’t even know her!” Gabriel said.

  “One week is too soon!” I said, speaking over him.

  The Queen held up her hand. “Silence!”

  We both stopped talking and stared at her in surprise.

  “Enough of this childishness,” she said, her voice clipped. “The wedding has been arranged, and that is that. You two will become husband and wife next Sunday, no more arguments. And since you seem to have a problem getting along, I want you to remain separate until you are wed. You can work out your differences on your wedding night. Kathryn, you will be staying in the south end of the castle, where you’ll be free to roam those halls and gardens. Gabriel, you shall remain in the north. Is that clear to both of you?”

  Gabriel and I glared at each other.

  “I said, is that clear?” the Queen barked.

  “Yes,” we both said glumly.

  “Very well. Beatrice and Victoria, take Kathryn back to her room.”

  * * *

  It was the worst week of my life. Despite being able to walk through the beautiful gardens, I felt like a prisoner. I had access to the family’s large library, filled with shelf after shelf of wonderful books, but my love of reading had left me. All I wanted to do was sit around my room and feel sorry for myself, thinking about how I was going to be trapped in a loveless marriage for the rest of my days.

  I gave myself some comfort at bedtime, using what Laurette had shown me to pleasure myself before falling asleep. I missed her dearly. She had been my only true friend. But the day after she had touched me and showed me the secret between my legs, she was gone. I asked around, and was told that someone had whispered into an ear, and she had been dismissed. I even went to my father about it, but he brushed it off with a wave of his hand, telling me it was for my own good and the matter was settled. I vowed that if I ever did become a queen, I would find Laurette, and we would be friends again.

  On Friday night, I prepared for bed by removing my dress and corset, leaving me in just my short pants. The first few days, Beatrice and Victoria had helped me with this, but I told them I could manage it on my own, so they left me to it. I was about to put on my robe, when I decided to go exploring between my legs once again. Part of me enjoyed how it felt, but another part of me liked how it reminded me of Laurette, and made me feel close to her.

  I removed my pants and lay beck on my bed, with my head propped on the pillows, making myself comfortable. Letting my thighs fall apart, my hand traced over my smooth skin, grazing against my soft hairs before finally settling into my slit, which was already plump and slick with lubrication. I teased along the vertical length, feeling the familiar tingles of pleasure spreading through me. I snuggled back into the bed and spread my legs wider, as my fingers found the nub of my clitoris and began to gently massage it.

  I groaned softly, realizing that this was the only part of my day I was truly happy. When the pleasure overtook me and blotted out all other thoughts, only then was I a
ble to forget about my troubles. Well, most of them.

  The problem was, doing this to myself was a constant reminder that I was just days away from losing my virginity. When I thought about this during the day, fear and doubt would fill my mind, and I was convinced I couldn’t go through with it.

  But at night, when my hands were between my legs, and my passion was inflamed, I looked forward to it. No, it was more than that. I craved it. As my fingers slid over my slick, engorged flesh, I felt an overwhelming desire to be filled. I needed a thick, unyielding cock to fill my tight core, to batter my tender flesh, over and over. Most of what I was imagining made no sense to me, but I knew I wanted it, and I wanted it now. And worst of all, Gabriel’s face and body came attached to those visions. The cock that relentlessly thrust between my spread thighs belonged to him, and I saw his face staring down at me as his body covered mine. When I had reached my climax on previous nights, I had pressed my face into my pillow, muting my cries and preventing myself from calling out his name.

  Tonight, the pleasure was building slowly and the images returned. I fantasized about what Gabriel’s cock looked like, and how it would feel inside of me. I couldn’t believe that in just two days, I would be feeling the real thing. My hips squirmed against my fingers and I let out a soft sigh. Yes, it wouldn’t be long until my pleasure reached its wonderful peak.

  Then I heard it. It was hardly a sound, more like a feeling, but I definitely felt it. I stopped and held my breath, listening intently. There it was again, a soft, almost inaudible rustling sound, and it was just outside my door.

  My mind raced. Someone was watching me through the keyhole. I felt my heart thud heavily in my chest at just the thought of someone discovering my secret. I couldn’t move, frozen in fear.

  Who could it be? Perhaps some passing castle guard who had intended to check up on me, and gotten an unexpected eyeful? Or maybe it was Beatrice or Victoria, doing the same? It could have been anyone.

 

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