All characters are fictional, and are of age. If subjects like natural-born shemales, reluctant sex, first-time sex or medieval settings are not your cups of tea then please move along - otherwise I hope you enjoy my story!
Please let me know if you'd like a part two, such as finding out for sure if Odette is pregnant - maybe with a fun castle kitchen scene, or the lovers escaping to a vacation by the oceanside (or elsewhere)?
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An expensive, fur-trimmed gown lay in a silken pool atop a plain, crumpled commoner's dress, the discarded clothing a stark reminder of what was to come.
Grand Duchess Angélique du Ursin perched on the edge of a velvet-trimmed settee, lithe fingers caressing the beautiful, trembling serving girl before her. She ran her palm gently across the swell of Odette's breast, her other hand guiding her reluctant lover down onto her lap. The maiden tensed, her traitorous nipples hardening unashamedly beneath her beloved noble's unwanted attention, and she let out a tiny gasp as her legs were forced to straddle one of the duchess' knees. She blushed, acutely aware of the wetness that she, and Angélique, could feel between her thighs.
"Are you ready for your
'jus primae noctis',
sweet one? I know I have wanted you for a very, very long time."
Odette shook her head, the only response she could think to offer. Her protests meant nothing to the duchess, however.
"Then I will just have to prepare you some more, hummmmm?"
Angélique's voice was a husky whisper, her eyes glued to the pink, undefiled cunt dripping lewdly upon her knee. It was Odette's wedding night, and, like so many rulers before her, Angélique was going to claim the bride's virginity via a practice called 'First Night Rights'. It wasn't romantic, wasn't what Angélique wanted, but if it was the only way to share a single, intimate moment with Odette then so be it. The barbaric tradition had long died out in the capital, but northwards, in the depths of the rural countryside -- far from the interfering eye of the crown's guard -- it was still practiced. Every ruling noble had it drilled in them to perform the task for every wedding, and it had been as such for generations.
However, what most duchess did not possess was a cock with which to fuck the bride with.
This commonsensical fact was not about to stop Angélique. The du Ursin lineage, nearly four hundred years old, held a vehemently-guarded genealogical secret: once, every few generations, one of their women would be born with a penis instead of a vagina. This genetic anomaly had been passed down to Angélique, and she intended to use her gift to ravage the curvaceous serving girl until Odette was ruined for her horrid husband.
Angélique, in her defense, detested the tradition. She had taken the virginity of ten brides, several of which she had sired children with, but never had there been one she had actual feelings for the way she did with Odette. Everything about the maiden excited her, and if she could have taken a wife for herself there was no second thought in her mind about who she would choose.
Ten years ago a small, orphaned child had been sold to the castle. The Grand Duke Lamont du Ursin, Angélique's father, gave the child to one of the maids to train as a servant. Angélique had just become a teenager then, and had paid no mind to a lowly serving child. Yet, as the years progressed and the girl became her main servant, Angélique watched Odette transform. The child was kind to all, her smile lighting up a room the way no one else could. She was intelligent and quick-witted, even if not educated, and perpetually did her best to please the nobility. Even as a child she was pretty, her beauty only growing as the seasons turned. As such the duke betrothed her to Thomas, his head alemaster, as thanks for being the best source of income for the du Ursin family. The duke insisted that the wedding would not be allowed to take place until Odette was of age, so Thomas bided his time with cheap whores and drink.
Once Odette turned twelve she had been like a shadow to Angélique, by then the Grand Duchess in the wake of her father's untimely death, and the duchess would have been lost without Odette's help. The two were nearly inseparable in the following years, with Odette taking on the role of handmaiden for Angélique, and their age difference did nothing to deter the chemistry budding between them once Odette matured.
The two women shared a kinship, something dangerously toeing the line of flirtation, that often found them sharing late-night, clandestine cups of tea with cookies. Angélique couldn't publicly show Odette any special attention, couldn't openly show how much she valued their time together, but that didn't stop her heart from doing little flip-flop motions whenever she saw Odette.
Although Angélique held no knowledge of it, her affections were returned - and had been for some time. Odette longed to spend every precious minute alone with the duchess, her cheeks turning a sweet shade of crimson whenever she thought about the gorgeous woman, but her duties often kept her in the servant's quarters or kitchen. Her favorite times of day were the start and end, for that was when she got to be alone with Angélique to help her dress and undress. Any chance she got to be near the noble was heavenly, until she received a harsh reminder.
She had finally reached her promised wedding age.
Thomas had aged poorly, his once-nice home nothing more than a run-down shack after spending all his coin on prostitutes. His health was in decline due to the diseases he had contracted from his countless trysts, and he had been fined more than once by the whorehouse for getting violent with the women there. Odette dreaded her marriage, of being ripped from Angélique's side so she could labour over her husband's ale vats, but what choice did she have?
None.
Her wedding to the brute was joyless, the feast afterwards tasting like ash in her mouth. the girl wanted to cry, at least until the moment Angélique stood up, bejeweled gown glittering in the light of dozens of candles as she claimed
jus primae noctis
. Thomas, delusion having him believing himself above law due to being treated well by the former duke, was livid. He sneered at Angélique, beady eyes ablaze, but he held his tongue.
While Thomas was home fuming Angélique's palm was snaking downwards across soft flesh, her fingertips brushing lightly over the girl's labia in short, teasing strokes. Odette tried to clench her legs shut, tried valiantly to preserve her well-kept purity, but it was far too late. Angélique used two fingers from her right hand to scissor open the girl's cunt lips, the fingers of her left hand darting out to capture Odette's exposed clit. The duchess tugged the nub gently, her cock giving a delighted twitch when Odette failed to suppress a sensual moan.
"
Uggggh
..."
