Salty Seas And Sweet Pastries Pt 01

Hello all fellow erotica lovers and welcome to my debut story on Literotica.com. I'm looking forward to much feedback and response from anyone who gives my work the time of day and if you are looking for quick-worded smut, you won't find it here. Thank You and Enjoy.

Ebrietas

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"Anastasia, come down for dinner." my father called from downstairs. I stood from my bed and descended the stairs to the dining room where my father and several servants stood waiting for me. It's pretty simple to understand, I'm the daughter of a General.

Young, beautiful, sought after and completely pure. My father had brought many men to court me, impress me and take my hand in marriage once I had become sixteen. For two full years I had been able to keep them away with proclamations of "Father, he made me uncomfortable!" Or "He tried to put his hand beneath my dress!"

All this time I lied about their intentions with me, they all may have wanted me for my body, but I could tell what their true intentions were: I was to be a trophy wife.

A beautiful doll to sit on a shelf and smile at everyone who walks in, whilst they exclaim; "Oh my, look at her beautiful face!" and "Oh wow, that dress! What an amazing material and color. It brings out her eyes ever so perfectly."

And all the while I would sit and smile at these women and secretly I would know that they would all hate me. Hate me for my looks. Hate me for my money. Hate me for my luck. Maybe even hate me for the size of my bust (which in all honesty is quite massive).

My husband would be the talk of the town, especially in men's inner circles. Once they saw my face and my body I would be all they could think about. Every time they made love to their wives or to their servant girls, the only face they would be able to see is mine. Every time they would climax inside of another woman's sex, they would always imagine it was mine. It's not that I would resent these people for hating me or wanting me. I would not dislike them for their comments, my only concern is that I don't want to live that life.

When I was a child, I had an uncle who was a great man. He was my father's brother and he told me all these amazing stories about adventures and pirates and incredible journeys with unseen creatures, mermaids and dragons. You see, my uncle was what my father called a "scoundrel." Back then I didn't understand what that meant and it quickly became a humorous name that I would refer to my uncle as. I would say it and he would laugh and tickle me, saying "Oh am I? If I'm a scoundrel then that must make you a tart, little one."

Back then I also had no understanding of this term so I took it as how I saw it; a pastry, filled with delicious jams and covered with sugar powder. I spent a majority of my childhood actually believing I was a pastry and I could be found frequently covering myself in sugar powder and multiple kinds of berries. This childish action soon became inappropriate and on the day my father hit me across the face for it, I finally ended my pastry crusade.

But all my life I never forgot those stories. One in particular always stuck with me, it was titled "Captain Eleanora" and it was a story about a great Ship Captain, one of the only female captains to be found in all the great seas (or so I was told). My uncle always told me the stories of this Captain different from the ones he told otherwise.

This story in particular had far less recounts of great heroic battles and more tales of woe from the Captain's own viewpoint and much more depth. So much depth, in fact, that I began to suspect these stories to be true and I found myself hoping there truly was a Captain Eleanora who sailed the great seas.

Once I heard this story, my imagination was let loose and I had begun this fantasy of building a crew and going off on journeys across the seas and plundering treasure and laughing as foreign countries would send their ships after me and once they saw the vastness of my ship and power of my crew, they would run like cowards.

This had become my dream for my future and this is precisely why I continued to deny my father's suitors. I would have no man because a strong woman like Captain Eleanora does not need a husband, and if she didn't need a husband to sustain her, then neither would I.

I crossed the threshold into the dining room and gave a small curtsy to my father and the servants, before taking my seat beside my father's chair, to his left. "How are you, my Princess?"

"I'm wonderful, father." I spoke thoughtfully, "I had dreams about the open ocean and how amazing it would be to sail upon it with the salty wind blowing through my hair."

Of course I did not actually dream of these things, I simply hoped my small mentions of my curiosity of sailing and the open ocean would open my father's eyes about setting me free to sail on a ship. I know these cravings to be childish but there is no way to tell my father directly about my dreams.

"No dreams of the Duke? I had assumed he made a great impression on you. You seemed pleased by him taking you out into the town the other day. I hope nothing went wrong..."

He left the statement open, prompting me to respond to his inquiry. The truth was that the Duke had actually made a very fair impression on me at the town the other day. He was a true gentleman; upstanding, handsome, honest, respectful and quite the man. I paused momentarily, letting my father's question hang in the air between us. I decided to play it on the safe side; give a little, take a lot.

"He was nice. Not terribly nice, but nice." I said, with my eyes to the ground, looking sad and forlorn, as if this long journey of suitors had left me feeling like no man would ever love me. Thankfully the effect I desired was immediately achieved.

"Sweetheart what ever could be the matter? Did he do something to you? Like the others?" This last question had a little bite to it. He had been in the presence of many men who had "tried to take advantage of me." Obviously none of them had, I just simply lied.

I let my head rest lower and pretended to cry, deep morose sobs, into my lap. My father reached out and took my hand, waiting for me to speak.

Finally I brought my false sobbing to a stop and spoke slowly, my voice full of fake tears.

"He didn't hurt me father, I'm simply worried that I will never find the man who will truly make me feel loved and who I can love back. These suitors have become too common and they all just seem the same."

"But the duke, my Princess. Did he not make you feel special?"

I responded too quickly and my true emotions betrayed me slightly

"He did, father. Very much so."

Damn.

I cursed myself silently for my mistake. Now he would invite the Duke back and if he took me out again I may truly fall for his dreamy eyes and find myself in the circle of his large, strong arms...and oh my, to feel those big soft lips against mine. The very thought of it made my womanhood tingle with pleasure and my face was flushed within seconds.

I looked over just in time to see my father smile a wide, cheery grin behind his large mustache. I could tell he had sensed my feelings and my heat. The human body picks up these things naturally, you know. That's why when two people have a true connection they both can sense it. It's the hormones and heat of each others bodies that makes these little nuances all the more obvious. He smiled at me and kissed my hand lightly.

"I think we may just have found a man that may finally tame my dear Princess' fortified heart. Would you like to know what he said about you?"

My eyes opened wide at that. He had spoken of me? Did he have good things to say? What if I hadn't spoken enough? What if I just seemed like a dumb trophy to him?

No...I cannot forget my dream. I must be tamed by the seas, not tamed by some man.

But even now I could feel my heart betraying me, forcing me to remember the handsomeness of his face and the gentle curve of his lips. My oh my, he was absolutely charming the other night. So much grace and honesty, eyes full of expression and passion. He honestly reminded my of my uncle, the way he talked to me. I forced my face into blank slate.

"I suppose I would like to know."

He seemed a little deflated at my reaction, but continued on anyway.

"The Duke told me that he found you absolutely exquisite and that the sooner he could see you again, the sooner he would find his very purpose in life."

He smiled triumphantly and gave my hand a small squeeze. I knew without any doubt that the Duke did not say such a thing. Such a childish and naive thing to say holds no comparison to the intricate wordplay that the Duke has in his repertoire.

However, I knew my father thought me too daft to be able to tell the difference between his bumbling attempts at romance and a man as intelligent and verbally experienced as my Duke.

Oh dear, you see what I just did there? I referred to him as mine. My Duke. Goodness, I truly am falling for this man. I kept my voice carefully steady.

"Well, I am glad to know he found me to be such pleasant company."

My father looked at me and he seemed slightly hurt by this, most likely because the words he had spoken came from his own mouth. He gently let go of my hand, careful not to betray his emotions, and began to devour his meal in silence.

Once I finished my meal I excused myself, went up the stairs to my bedroom, sat on my bed and let myself relax. I know it may seem odd that I act so strange around my father. So concise and mechanical, but I assure you that if he had been your father, you would act the same.

He does not sympathize with extravagant dreams and passions. He is a man of strong faith and level-headedness. He lacks understanding for my dreams, I have never truly told him of my passions but I know that he would disregard me, call me a child, maybe even strike me. He is a strong man but that is all he is; strong. Nothing more and nothing less than that.

I stood in my room and looked into my tall mirror at my reflection, so pretty and fair skinned. I heard a light knock on my door and a soft, faint voice drifted through the thin wood.

"Miss Ana, may I enter?"

"You may." I called back without taking my eyes off of my reflection. The door opened and in walked my house-maid, Eloise. She closed the door behind her and stood nearby where I was looking into the mirror, never meeting my eyes or looking at my face. Eloise had been my servant for 4 years now. She is slightly older than I am and much less fortunate in her looks.

"Eloise, do you think I'm beautiful?" I spoke softly while turning to look at her.

Her eyes widened and she stuttered out a quick response "Yes Miss Ana! You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"Oh sweet Eloise, you make me blush the deepest of reds." I stepped over to her gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek to show my gratitude. Eloise had fancied me for almost as long as I knew her, long before she was my maid.

It began when we were around 12, one day we were out playing in the garden while her family was visiting mine and me, being a very sexual young lady, took her out behind our greenhouse and both of us had shared our first kiss with one another. It was the only kiss I have ever had with another woman and it was by far the best kiss I had ever shared with anyone.

After our lips parted and we stared into each other eyes, breathless, I playfully poked her and said "Chase me, Eloise!" and ran away while she followed behind me, unable to catch me. To this day she still has not caught me, poor Eloise.

Little did anyone know, 2 years later her mother would die in a house fire caused by a stray piece of wood in the fireplace. Her mother was the only person Eloise had to take care of her, so once my father heard of his close friend passing away, he did what any respectable man would do, he took Eloise in and made her my house maid at 14 and here she stays.

Eloise lowered her head and spoke with shame, "Miss Ana you should not be touching me that way. I am an orphan of a whore and your pure hands must never be tainted by my impure blood." Her mother had never married and had slept with many men before she became pregnant by a random gentlemen who populated her bed.

"Eloise I told you, please call me Ana. We are close friends and I will not allow you to serve me like a slave. Come and sit down with me, I would love to speak with you."

I sat on my bed and she stood, not wanting to cross a boundary. Oh, Eloise, always so careful. "I have invited you to sit Eloise, it would be more rude of you to refuse than to sit upon my bed."

She nodded once and sat down on my bed next to me. "What would you like to speak about, Miss Ana?" She said with her hands tightened in her lap. I can't imagine how difficult it must be to fancy me so and have no opportunity of being with me.

"I need your guidance, Eloise. I have met with the Duke and he is so kind and gentle, a great man for any woman. But, I continue holding onto this dream of going away from all this. All I have ever known is this house and these people. I have yet to explore and find myself in anything besides the eyes of some suitor my father sets me up with. What should I do?"

I gently wrapped my bare fingers around the upper part of her arm and she winced with shock. Eloise is the only person I am able to speak my mind with. She is soft-spoken and easy to talk to. I don't give anybody else my affection or attention the way I give it to Eloise.

In truth, I don't fancy her anywhere near as much as she fancies me. But I do not dwell on those feelings, because I know that they are worthless. No matter how much I care or not care for Eloise, I can still use her, and right now I desperately wanted to.

At night, when I touch myself beneath the warmth of my bed covers I always find myself wishing it were her fingers touching my womanhood and not my own. Almost every time I reach a climax, I loathe the fact that its my hands and not someone elses, in this case being Eloise. She is young and desirable but she is after all, a whore's child. No such woman could ever steal my heart.

"I think you should follow your dreams, Miss Ana. You are a woman now and you can make your own choices." She spoke so softly, her voice so deep for such a young woman. "But if this man is desirable then maybe..." She paused and thought for the barest of moments. "...maybe you can be with this man for now and use his wealth and pedigree to eventually do what your heart most desires."

That truly was an excellent idea, she could surprise me sometimes with her intelligence. I would surely find a way to use that later.

"You always know what to tell me Eloise, you are so intelligent and full of wisdom. I long to think the way you do." I said, my voice full of fake emotion from hearing her idea.

Damn she was smart, I suppose since she was so plain looking she needed to have a proficiency in something. I laid my head on her shoulder and carefully inhaled through my nose, secretly taking in her scent. She smelled of burning wood and soap and I found myself relaxed by her scent, maybe I liked her more that I thought.

Her whole body tensed and her fitful hands stopped moving in her lap. "Please Miss Ana, do not give me such compliments. They are too great for someone like me."

Her heart was beating so hard I could almost hear it from my place on her arm. I looked up into her green eyes and her lips parted slightly, allowing me to see her tongue and the white of her teeth and I couldnt resist anymore. I raised my mouth up into hers, her eyes flew wide open and she sat motionless as our lips connected.

I closed my lips slowly on her bottom lip and my sex tingled with heat. Goodness, she just had the softest lips. I continued kissing her like that for a minute without her moving. I needed her to kiss me back and to make me feel something. I stopped for a moment to open my eyes and look at her "Eloise, please. I need you to touch me."

She placed a hand on my arm and looked away from my face, "The last time I did this, your father found out and he hurt me badly, Miss Ana. I can't touch you." She said, with the voice of someone who was disciplining a child. I realized then that I was being exactly that, a child and if I went this far I might as well commit.

I put my face into her bosom and pretended to weep silently. I let loose a few whimpers to really sell the act and finally Eloise put her arms around me and let me have my moment. I must have looked so pathetic to her. I took her face in my hands and looked into her eyes.

"Please, Ellie. I need you." I saw her eyes well up and suddenly she was kissing me. Her lips moving in tune against mine. Her tongue in my mouth with such passion and force I was worried she would choke me with it. I had to be closer to her and feel her hands on me.

I stood up and reluctantly parted my lips from hers and looked into her eyes as I raised my arms to signal her to remove my clothes for the evening, a routine we had completed so many times before.

She stood up, walked behind me and unlaced my dress from the back, I could feel her hands fumbling with nervousness and excitement. She could hardly contain herself as she slid the dress down off of my waist and let it fall to the ground, exposing my undergarments and bare legs and arms.

I turned to her and unbuttoned her simple dress from the front and removed it. Her medium sized bust lay before me, covered in her brazier. I realized suddenly that this was as far as we had ever gone together, the last time we got this far, my father had walked in on us and found us both unclothed when I had tried to coax her into my bed about a year ago.

My father had smacked me across the face and thrown me into bed and he had beaten Eloise for at least 10 minutes just in front of the bed where I couldn't see. While he had been beating her, I had listened to her thoughtfully and I remembered yearning for my father to give me that much attention.

As she bled through her nose and pleaded with my father to stop hitting her I had began to touch myself quietly behind them underneath the bed sheets. He had called her a whore's daughter and dragged her around the bed by her hair and left the room for a moment.

Eloise and I were left alone in the room and I asked her if she was alright, to which she responded that she was glad it was her and not me that was being punished so severely. A moment later my father returned with a crop he used for horse riding and told Eloise to stand up and bend over the bed side table. She did just that and my father proceeded to hit her an upwards of 30 times on her bare ass.

Watching such a display was obviously meant to make me feel guilty for requesting such a thing from my female house maid and that might have worked on an ordinary young woman but I was not an ordinary young woman. It was around the 20th strike of that crop on her ass that I reached an orgasm beneath the bed covers.

My father smiled to himself, thinking my cries were those of pain and regret but no, I was having the best orgasm of my life while my vision was filled of my father abusing that plump bottom. After my father finished his work, Eloise whimpered and cried as she sank to the floor on her knees and that sound she made right when he finished, that light whimper, would stick in my brain for many nights to come while I played with myself.

Despite having just had an orgasm, that whimper caused me to be aroused beyond the boundaries of what I thought possible. That night after he dragged her out of my room, and probably raped her, I had reached another 3 climaxes, setting the record for most orgasms ive had in one night, while thinking about the desperation in Eloise's voice and picturing her pretty ass and the look on her face as her bottom was met with strike after strike from my father's crop.