A Lady or a Coc Whore?

Hello dear readers! This story contains various kinks which will continue to shift and evolve as the story progresses. This chapter is more voyeurism-based, but be aware that the series overall

will

revolve around noncon and D/s themes. So heads up that while this chapter is softcore, things get a bit darker moving forward!

Enjoy ;)

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Arya was out hunting with her brothers the first time she saw a brigand. She had grown up in a small keep in the woods, her life simple and quiet. They had money, but no pretensions, an honorable family name, but no hubristic pride. The many farms and homesteads scattered across the sprawling landscape were under her father's thumb, but his touch was kind and generous, and most of his people had a deep respect for him.

Unfortunately, there are always those who are poor, desperate, or simply deranged, who fall by the wayside and cause trouble for others, and it was one such a man that she was destined to meet.

But the day started slowly and with the usual tedium that Arya was accustomed to. She was supposed to be studying, and felt a bit guilty watching her sisters hard at work while she lounged, only pretending to be reading. But they were older and prettier and would grow up to have responsibilities, like marrying rich men. With all eyes on them and their recent "coming out" into society, Arya was frequently overlooked and wily enough take advantage of it. Today, she decided to escape her duties and roam through the woods with her two brothers, Luc and Weyn.

They were skulking through the forest that morning, following the tracks of a deer. Hunting was a pastime the boys frequently enjoyed, and Arya was often invited to tag along; though she spent her time exploring and admiring the woods rather than trying to kill the things living in them.

She wasn't paying them much mind, knowing that despite their bravado they had no hope of actually bagging a deer. Luc was the only one with a weapon and it was a child's sling with a few pointy pebbles. Still, the boys fancied themselves great warriors, envisioning themselves creeping silently through the woods chasing a great and beautiful beast that they would slay with a single shot, and bring home in triumph.

In actuality, they were three children ages eight, ten, and eleven who were crashing through the underbrush with no hope of a successful hunt as they argued in loud whispers.

"I saw it, I did!" Weyn, the youngest, said petulantly. "It was a boar the size of a carriage!"

"Shh!" Luc warned. "Be quiet for ten minutes, for the love of God. Do you want to draw thieves and murderers and-and.. ruffians to us!?"

Luc was was their leader and Arya was often his "yes man", but at this she scoffed. "Ruffians? In Parnage? Father wouldn't let anyone like that to stay in our woods, you idiot."

Weyn, annoyed that the others were ignoring his story of the boar, loudly agreed. "Of course there are no murderers here, Luc! And who would these imaginary ruffians steal from? It's not as though the serfs have got anything and we are protected by the keep."

"Not out here you aren't," a deep voice replied.

The children screamed, Weyn bolting into the woods towards home. Luc stood his ground defiantly, his sling in his hand. Arya stood a ways behind him, afraid but unwilling to show it as she willed Weyn to run quickly and bring help.

The man laughed, stepping out from behind a tree.

He was tall, at least to their eyes, with a broad chest and several missing teeth. "Good thing I have no wish to do you harm."

He leaned down, peering at them. "However, you pampered keep children may wish to be a bit more careful in the woods alone. I am not the only one here, and even I would not pass up the opportunity to pinch any valuables if I thought you had any."

Luc frowned at his words, clearly offended. Arya kicked him, seeing that he had opened his mouth to retort. The man looked at her and winked. "She may have been wrong about my existence, but she clearly has a bit of sense." His gaze darkened, and Arya stepped back, afraid without knowing why. "Stay home next time darlin'," he said bleakly. "Deer are not the only game men seek around here. Lucky for you I don't like them young."

Arya nodded her assent and quietly thanked him, although she had no idea what he was talking about. Luc seemed to grow angrier at the man's words, and she pulled insistently on his arm. "Let's go," she said earnestly. "please, Luc."

Luc glared at the man for a moment but he simply replied with an amused chuckle, so Luc grunted in dismissal and stalked back towards the keep with Arya in tow.

"What was he talking about?" Arya asked as they neared their home, wincing as she finally wrenched her arm out of his grip.

Luc said nothing, walking straight ahead with tight lips.

"Luc," she whined.

He turned abruptly, snapping, "Nothing. He was being a right arse is all."

She gasped, surprised to hear her brother curse so rudely, but he ignored her and kept walking. She never did find out what that man meant, and the incident was soon forgotten.

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As Arya reached pubescence, her life changed dramatically. She was now required to do all the boring things she had watched her olders sisters do, and despite knowing that they had survived it - and even thrived in some cases - Arya sincerely felt that she would not. Her sisters all had some genteel skill, be it sewing, singing, drawing, etc., but Arya found it so tedious that she wanted to rip out her hair and scream, "I will NEVER be a lady!".

The best part of the week was the one riding lesson she was allowed as a special indulgence by her father. It was the only time she ever felt truly free.

She had once thought that her family's isolation meant that they were unimportant; the minstrels and artisans who occasionally visited always brought stories of the splendor and wealth of the major cities, stories which reinforced her assumption that they were poor and insignificant. And she was right in some ways. They were little thought of at court, since they rarely ventured there except to present a son or daughter who had come of age. She was very wrong, however, in assuming they were poor. She began to understand the importance of the mines their land encompassed, and was astonished to eventually realize that they were quite rich, all things considered, and that she had a substantial dowry.

There were other insights that shaped Arya's perspective as the years went on and bolstered her dislike of conventional rules and marriage. For one, her keep was so small that she often saw people of different classes socializing and helping each other regardless of station. She was too naïve at first to recognize that this was unusual and only due to necessity. As she began her studies in earnest, she realized how big a role social class played in politics, especially for those with wealth. And, more importantly, how limiting it was. As a noble-born she would have no say in her future, she would not be allowed to fall in love, and she would certainly not be allowed to go hunting in the woods. She began to understand the bleakness of her future.

After 18 Arya began to be groomed in more than just her education, her manners, and other ladylike skills. She did not understand at first what was happening, because she was not close enough to any of her sisters to think to ask, or to have heard their confessions regarding their own sordid experiences.

It began innocently at first. One of her teachers, a woman in her twenties with brown wispy hair and large eyes, suggested Arya try shaving her legs. Arya had never heard of such a thing and was intimidated by the sharp blade. Her teacher was gentle yet insistent, and Arya was surprised to find how much she enjoyed her hairless legs afterwards.

Then her teacher began showing her other things. Some were easy to understand, like learning how to emphasize her breasts and other attributes with the correct underclothes. Some were trickier, such as the visits Isla and Arya began making to the midwives and wet nurses to learn about childbirth and childcare. Surprisingly, it was exploring

herself

that was the most difficult thing for Arya.

The first time she held the mirror to her groin and saw what Isla had been so graphically describing a few moments prior, Arya knew that she was about to dive into deeper waters than she had ever anticipated. It was even worse when her teacher spread those lips and she glimpsed for the first time her pink, wet womanhood. Her teacher informed her that there was a hole there, and that something very special went into that hole. Arya was unsurprised, having grown up with many brothers in an environment where they were regularly exposed to the lower class men, whose language and stories were often very "adult" in nature. But she admitted that she didn't know what that part of her actually did except bleed, and didn't see why a man would want to touch it, or put anything inside of it.

When she said this, her teacher Isla smiled sweetly, though her large brown eyes were hungry. "Well," she said slowly, her fingertips grazing Arya's thigh, "there are many things that can be done to your pretty pussy. And your husband will like it even more knowing that he is the first to place himself inside of you."

"Many things? Like what?" Arya asked, nose wrinkling.

The smile widened to a wolflike grin.

"At first a finger touches you. Like this... "

Arya gasped, her eyes widening at her teacher's touch. Isla's fingers confidently ran up Arya's thighs, before dipping into her folds. Arya knew that there was a place where she felt wet at times, but she had never explored it. Isla did, however. She ran her index finger in tiny circles around the girl's entrance, her fingertip becoming coated in the mysterious liquid. Isla paused, seeing Arya's surprised and uncomfortable face.

"Relax, Arya. I am teaching you about your body so you may understand, someday, how to please your husband," Isla soothed, her finger still tracing circles in Arya's wetness.

"O-okay," Arya replied shakily, unnerved by the small spasms and the dull throbbing that had begun to emanate from her core.

Isla handed Arya the small mirror once more and prompted the girl to watch. Arya reluctantly angled the mirror, blushing at the sight of Isla's juice coated finger.

"You know a man has a different body than a woman, right?" Isla asked rhetorically, her voice soft. "Well, a man has a key, and you have the lock, so to speak." Seeing Arya's puzzlement, she continued, "You have a hole here, and he has the means with which to fill that hole - it's called his cock; or at least that is what he will like you to call it. Such words will arouse him, so remember them: cock and pussy. Ok?"

"Mhmm," Arya replied vaguely, distracted by Isla's hand.

"Say it, Arya," Isla ordered, her soft voice growing stern as she used her "teacher" voice.

"C-cock," Arya breathed, her hair coming apart from its braid as she whipped her head back and forth against the back of the lounge chair.

"And?"

"Pussy," she moaned.

Isla's breath hitched and she hissed softly through her teeth. "Good girl, Arya. Such a good student. You're learning quickly, see? See how you're opening up like a beautiful flower? The way your stomach muscles are tightening with desire and your hips are beginning to jerk of their own accord? That means you're letting your body do what it should, what it must. Very good girl, Arya," Isla finished, purring her name as her finger moved from a swirling motion to a more invasive one.

"This is something he will want to do often, and he will not always be gentle. Sometimes it helps to create a sort of lubrication with which to ease the pain," Isla explained raggedly as her fingered entered Arya's soaked pussy. She stopped before it was halfway in, looking up at Arya's face. The girl had tensed.

"Pain?" Arya asked, becoming nervous. She tried to back away from Isla's finger, confused by the heat that was growing between her legs even more than the sudden fear that Isla was maybe doing something she shouldn't be.

"Yes," Isla admitted, "Sometimes there is pain. But often there is also pleasure." With those words Isla moved her finger towards the girl's clit, Arya's juices leaving a slick trail.

Arya twitched as the fingers began circling her nub, her muscles spasming as she tensed up. She felt the heat grow, and she realized with a start that she recognized this feeling. She had been walking home one day when she stumbled across a man and a woman in a field. They were on the ground, moving in a way she had never seen before. She watched transfixed as the woman sat astride him, her breasts spilling out of her dress. Arya had felt this same throbbing as she watched them, listening to the primal moans and cries they made.

She released a cry of her own as Isla's finger stopped circling her clit, and touched it directly.

"Look," Isla hissed. "Look how wet you are, how ready you are for a man's cock."

Arya blushed even harder as she stared into the mirror, watching a pool of moisture seeping out of her lips and down the crack of her bottom. She felt surprisingly dismayed as Isla removed her hand, and completely shocked when the woman licked the moisture off her own finger.

Isla closed her eyes for a moment, and Arya got the feeling her teacher was overwhelmed by some emotion. She could not imagine what it was, and she took advantage of the moment to slip her skirts back over her legs before she could be stopped.

Isla got her lust under control - barely - telling herself that Arya was too inexperienced to respond the way Isla wanted anyway... though this was an excellent start. She had seduced enough students to know that the pleasure was greatest for her when her pupils gave themselves knowingly and wantonly to her.

But Arya tastes so good

, a little voice in Isla's mind complained. She shook her head in self-denial, looking down at the girl.

Not yet

, she told herself.

But soon.

She smiled at Arya. "We can continue this another time, I know you have to meet Madame Selein for your embroidery lesson."

Arya frowned. "But her lessons are so boring! I'd rather stay and learn more from you. I mean... maybe not what we were just doing but... other stuff?"

"You will learn much from me, my dear, I promise you that," her teacher replied, patting her cheek. Arya flinched slightly away from the strange smell that still lingered on Isla's skin, a ripple of lust and shame running through her. "And I believe you will learn everything as quickly and well as your sisters did, if not more so. But only when you are ready."

"If I may ask Madame, when I am ready for what?"

As Arya spoke, Isla's eyes flashed predatorily.

"To have the hole filled. It is something very special and is something you will have to work very hard to earn. I do not teach this for my own pleasure," she said with a sardonic leer, "I am here to teach you how to be the best wife you can be. As your innocence is the first gift you will give to your husband, I must show you how to give it away properly."

Arya nodded, still confused but eager to please. "I will work hard, I promise. I will do what you ask if it will make you and my parents happy."

Isla smiled and waved her out, her hand instantly slipping under her dress to her dripping cunt to find her own pleasure as the door closed behind her pupil.

Arya's lessons with Madame Isla were cut short only a few weeks later, as allegations concerning Isla's morality were raised by the outraged mother of a fellow pupil. It seemed as though Madame Isla had been engaging in sinful acts with her teenage daughter. The mother claimed it was against her daughter's will, but Isla simply smiled when accused of that, causing the mother to fly into a rage. Nothing was ever proven, since the girl in question refused to speak of it. Nonetheless, Isla was sent away and a male master took her place.

Arya had made progress during those weeks, however, and had now learned that a woman could bring herself great pleasure with her own fingers. At Isla's guiding hand she had been taught how to bring herself to climax. The first time she orgasmed was at Isla's hand. She felt as though she was floating above herself, watching Isla's slender fingers rubbing her clit furiously, and watching herself writhe as she cried out in ecstasy.

Under Isla's watchful eye, she brought herself to climax many more times, using Isla's advice, and often the woman's fingers, to bring herself more quickly to orgasm, and to better and better ones. She was advised to practice at night, and Arya was a diligent student. Being born into wealth, she was lucky enough to have her own room, and the stone walls were thick enough to muffle her screams. These were her favorite lessons thus far.

She did not learn exactly how a man filled her hole before Isla left, taking that knowledge with her. Arya was too embarrassed to ask her sisters about it, and asking her brothers was definitely out of the question.

When the new master arrived, Arya grew conflicted. He was attractive. The first time she met with him she was so nervous she could barely speak. Which was probably good since he began by asking her about her previous studies with Isla. She later shuddered to think of what he would have said or done if she had been less tongue tied and actually admitted what she and Isla had spent so many hours doing.

The master told Arya what she was expected to learn and it did not include physical pleasure, which Arya had mixed feelings about. She was unable to bear the thought of a man touching her there and teaching her such things, and yet when she pleasured herself at night she imagined his hands touching her, caressing her and bringing her to climax. Her orgasms were always much better when she imagined that he was bringing her to them.

His actual job, as it turned out, was to teach her how to interact with men in a proper court setting and attract a suitable mate - using everything

but

the most intimate parts of her body. It was incredibly boring, learning which address is acceptable versus what might be considered too forward. He was so detail-oriented it drove her crazy at times, having to memorize the difference between waving your fan in a manner that would offend someone versus a motion that would connote a compliment. She dutifully learned her lessons, however, and for the next few years became a proper young woman, if in name only.

Arya's only refuge from polite society and the increasingly mind numbing lessons was the time she spent with her brothers. Whenever she had a moment free she sought out their company rather than her sisters' or female acquaintances', because in the men's presence she could be rude, loud, anything she wanted. But they were also busy, as Luc was in training to become a knight, and Weyn to become a priest. It was less and less common, but whenever they could they three of them would disappear into the woods for a few hours to hunt and enjoy each other's company.

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It had been a long day and Arya needed break from her studies. She ran to the training grounds to find Luc, but discovered that he was away for a few days on an expedition. She then looked for Weyn, but he was busy in a lesson for the next two hours. Frustrated, she decided to just go on a ride by herself. She briefly considered inviting one of her sisters, but only two remained, as they had not yet married, and they were both so involved in a current embroidery project that she doubted they would have any interest.