The Court's New Virgin

*All characters are 18+. This is a work of fiction for erotic entertainment only. Real-life sex should always be with enthusiastic consent.*

Copyright 2024 Sastri Vera

This is a prelude to The Court's Cruel Games.

***

Rough hands encircled my upper arms, yanking me backward into a solid body.

I opened my mouth to scream. A leather-gloved hand clapped over my mouth, a deep voice growling, "Be quiet, or I'll break your little neck."

My scream caught in my throat. Whimpers I couldn't prevent escaped with each panicked breath. The hand shifted to wrap tightly around my throat, his other hand releasing me briefly before he pressed a thick cloth to my lips.

"Open."

"Please--" was the only word that squeaked out of my mouth.

He jammed the cloth in, too much to spit out. Pulling my arms back, he twisted a rope around my wrists, then spun me to face him. "I said, be quiet. Don't make me hurt you."

I couldn't respond and was too petrified anyway. This man wasn't anyone I recognized. He looked like a hunter, which was odd; these woods had little to hunt.

He tilted my chin up and grinned. "You're a pretty one. Hmm." His hands ran over my shoulders, down my sides, holding my waist as he palmed a breast. I flinched and tried to twist out of his grip. No one had ever touched me so rudely before. It finally occurred to me that I should run.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair as my eyes darted into the trees. "Don't be stupid. I'll catch you and toss your body in a ditch if you're too much trouble. Are you going to be troublesome, girl?"

I shrank and shook my head as best I could.

He let go of my hair, smoothed it down. "Good girl. Now, let's see if you're as delicious as you look."

That smirk on his lips as he backed me into a tree twisted my stomach. His hands were all over me again, massaging my tits, squeezing my waist and hip, rubbing my thighs. My face reddened as he kicked my legs apart, lifted my dress, and cupped me between my legs. The embarrassment of someone else's hands -- a strange man's hands, no less -- swirled with the sense of invasion as he groped me. My body went rigid.

He leaned into my hair as I pressed my back into the rough bark. "How many men have fucked this pretty little body, hmm? Do you have a husband?" His fingers slipped past my underclothes while he spoke, stroking my most intimate flesh. I wailed through the cloth. It felt both terrifying and so strange, an odd tingling and burning that I couldn't describe. The heat in my cheeks rose.

Chuckling as his fingers became wet, he rubbed my soft folds harder. "You must, you're too lovely and sweet to be unclaimed. Foolish of him to let you out of his sight, a beautiful--"

He went still.

I shook my head a little -- I didn't have a husband, I'd never even kissed a man. Then his finger pressed against me, entered me. I gasped at this unfamiliar sensation. He had probed against something inside me before he stopped both moving and talking.

"You're a virgin," he marveled. "How..." His finger prodded me more, then withdrew. I gasped at the loss of sensation.

He sucked his finger and grinned at me. "Well, aren't you a prize. I like to sample my wares, but you get special treatment, little virgin pet. Get on your knees." He shoved me to the ground.

As I landed on the forest floor, he swiftly untied his breeches and revealed his manhood. Horrified, I looked away, my face warming all over again. He slapped me. The sting made my head spin.

"Have you never seen a cock before, girl?" He sneered and removed the gag. I coughed and tried to look at him without looking at

that

part of him, my eyes darting around his legs.

He grabbed my chin, stepped close to my face. "Open your mouth."

My eyes widened. He couldn't mean for me to...

"Don't make me tell you again," he muttered.

My lips slowly parted. He angled his cock at my face. I had to open my jaws wider as he fed the engorged organ into my mouth. I whimpered in the back of my throat as I tasted male musk. It wasn't unpleasant, exactly, except that I'd never done this before, never even imagined it. I was disgusted, confused, and humiliated.

His callous instructions added to my shock. "Lower your lips over your teeth. Bite me, and you'll regret it. Lick. Use your tongue, girl."

I did as I was told. The feel of his flesh on my tongue was so strange, his shaft both velvety soft and hard as tense muscle, stretching my lips wide. It was growing harder and bigger in my mouth until I couldn't fit all of him inside anymore. I choked when he pushed toward the back of my throat, panicking and gagging. He groaned and pulled back.

"Relax your throat. Let me in." He pushed again. I cried out, the sound strangled by his cock. He held himself at the entrance of my throat as I struggled to swallow, to breathe, to not let my teeth scrape his shaft and invite his anger.

When my breathing evened, he pushed again. Harder. I couldn't take all of it. If he went much further, I didn't think I could breathe. I shook my head a little, my eyes begging him to stop. A corner of his lips twisted up and he thrust, shoving into my throat, the thick head of his cock popping in where it didn't belong.

I screamed, choked, gagged, panicked, shuffled on the ground, pushed at his legs. I couldn't breathe! He was going to suffocate me! Tears blurred my sight, saliva trailing down my chin.

"Good. Good girl," he groaned, keeping a tight hold on my head as he pushed yet a little more. After a few terribly long seconds, he slowly pulled out. I gasped and coughed, falling onto my hands as I panted and sobbed. My throat felt abused and raw.

He yanked up my hair, pressed his cock back into my mouth. I fought. I couldn't do that again. I couldn't--

A knife glinted by my cheek, the sharp edge caressing my skin. I froze.

"Like I said, don't be too much trouble. Just do what you're told and you'll be fine." The blade grazed the hairs on my cheek. I barely whimpered.

He thrust in my mouth, sometimes hitting the back of my throat, sometimes just short little pumps in and out of my tightly sealed lips. I licked as well as I could, hoping to satisfy him, to not provoke him.

And I began to feel strange between my legs, an odd warmth that I'd never felt before. I caught my hips squirming, my thighs rubbing together as a similar feeling to when he touched me there gathered at my mound -- hot and tense. My heart beat faster.

Then he held my head firmly and rammed the full length of himself into my throat. I shrieked again, the sound cut off suddenly. I couldn't stop myself from struggling as he grunted and thrust erratically, his cock twitching, fluid pouring down my gullet and into my stomach. I swallowed reflexively, again and again, the thick liquid seemingly endless as my lungs panicked for air. When he finally released me, I fell, coughing, my sight blurred with tears.

He yanked me to my feet. "You'll get used to it," he sneered. He stuffed the lump of cloth back into my mouth. "Now, let's go. Walk."

The taste of him lingered on my tongue. My underclothes felt wet. I stumbled in a daze as he led me to his wagon by the road. It looked like a small merchant's covered wagon, led by a single horse. He shoved me inside and tied me down. "Be good, or I'll cut your feet," he said as he poked his knife at my ankle. "Where you're going, you won't need to be able to walk," he grinned.

I curled up in a corner and quivered.

We traveled for a few days. I'd never been so far from home. My parents lived a good distance away from the nearest village. They mentioned once that I'd be safe there. I never knew what they meant. I was beginning to find out.

My captor never let me out of his sight. At night, he bound me thoroughly, tossed a blanket over me, and left me in the wagon. Sometimes, he took me out to use my mouth again. Like he said, I got used to it, choking less, licking more. The degrading act always left me embarrassingly wet between the legs.

I begged to be let go, at first. He grew tired of it quickly, waving his knife and threatening a ditch again -- after he broke me in. I was quiet after that.

On the evening of the fifth day, we stopped and someone peered into the wagon. He wore a metal helmet and armor. My eyes widened, and I yelled from behind my gag, struggling against my bindings. He looked like a guard. He had to help me.

He seemed to inspect my body like it was a sack of potatoes, then he disappeared. My heart pounded. I heard muffled voices.

"Just the one, Jacob? That's unlike you." That must be the guard. He didn't sound concerned.

"She's a virgin," said my captor, pride in his voice. Jacob. He'd never bothered to tell me his name.

"Really? A pretty thing like her? Lucky you. Go on, then."

The wagon moved again. The horse's hooves clopped on stone as we rattled along.

I couldn't believe the guard hadn't saved me. The village that I so rarely visited didn't have any proper guards, so I'd only read about them in books. They were supposed to be noble, brave, and strong. Perhaps he wasn't a guard.

The wagon stopped again. The sounds of a crowd filtered in -- occasional garbled shouting, many voices murmuring, the clattering of tools, and shuffling feet.

Jacob dragged me out. We were on a wide, busy street with so many buildings all crammed together. Several people glanced at us and looked away, uninterested. No one seemed to care that I was tied up and gagged. Why did they not care?

Bewildered, I kept quiet as he shoved me toward a building. Once inside, he released me, only holding on to a rope extending from my wrists.

A man peered up from his desk, frowning. "Jacob. It's late," he grunted.

My captor grinned. "Oh, but you'll want this one. I found a virgin."

The man's eyes narrowed. "We'll see about that." He nodded toward a cot.

They forced me to lie down, then the man licked his finger and probed between my legs. I trembled but tried to stay still. My captor had touched me many times during the trip. I'd learned not to fight.

The finger slid inside me gently, then stopped. "Huh." He patted my leg, turning to my captor. "Where'd you find her?"

Jacob shrugged. "Does it matter? I left the usual note."

The man nodded and gathered his papers, flipping through them. He glanced at me. "Take off your clothes, girl."

Jacob untied my hands and stepped back. They both stared, waiting. I sat up and looked between them, my throat tightening. My captor reached for his knife. Hurriedly, trembling, I removed my dress.

"All of it," Jacob snapped. I shrank. My hands went to my underclothes, my face burning as I slipped them off. I shivered on the cot, completely naked before the two men.

"Stand," the man said. He had me spin slowly, examining every inch of my skin.

"Hmm. Good enough," he grumbled.

Jacob snorted. "She's beautiful, and not a mark on her. Compliant, she'll be an easy one. Don't try to drive down her price."

The man scowled. "A hundred gold."

"Ridiculous. A thousand, or I take her myself. She's still worth a hundred after I've had her."

"Three, then. Training takes time, you know."

"Every virgin needs training. Eight, and only because I've had her mouth."

They bartered for a while longer. I felt like a piece of meat at the butcher shop. Eventually, the man begrudgingly handed Jacob a slip of paper. My captor left without a second glance.

My gag was finally removed. I stretched my jaw and swallowed, hugging myself. This man didn't seem as prone to violence as my captor. "Please let me go. I don't understand--"

"Stop. I don't want to hear it," he grumbled. He opened a cabinet, taking out a strip of black leather. I stood still as he wrapped it around my neck. Jacob had not been gentle when I struggled, complained, or even simply spoke out of turn.

The man placed a finger on the leather and said, "Stand still."

My body locked in place. I tried to move my arms but couldn't even twitch a muscle. My eyes widened, my breath short. "What... what is this?"

He smiled. "An obedience collar. It's keyed to me for now. You will do anything I say if I touch the collar. A useful bit of the old magic."

Magic. Clearly, it was real, whatever I believed.

He sat back down. "Now, let's finish processing you. What is your name?"

I still couldn't move. "Fiona."

"Age."

"Twenty this last spring."

He paused, frowning. "You're beautiful, biddable enough, and not completely stupid. Why aren't you married?"

"My parents--"

He waved a hand. "Nevermind, I don't need your life story. Whatever the reason, you and your parents are fools."

My parents must have been keeping me away from exactly this sort of thing. I'd been content so long as they were happy. How frantic they must be now. Jacob had said something about leaving a note, as though kidnapping girls was perfectly normal. No one had tried to help me. I couldn't even run with this collar -- and no clothes besides.

The clerk finished his paperwork, patting my ass affectionately as he commanded me to follow him. My feet fell in step behind him. We strode down hall after hall, passing servants who rushed by with downcast eyes and guards who leered at my bare chest. Though I couldn't cover myself, my cheeks heated with embarrassment, and I stared only at the floor.

We entered a floral-scented hall, the walls decorated with roses and lilies. The right wall opened to an outdoor area where a few scantily-clad women drifted between a pond and a wide doorway in the distance. A glimpse of a dark nipple beneath diaphanous fabric had my eyes falling to the floor again.

A harried-appearing man approached us. "What is it, Jacob? Another girl? I told you last week that we don't need more useless--"

"She's a virgin."

The man paused. "Oh, a virgin? She's pretty, too. Very well, then. She'll do, she'll do. Come with me, darling."

Jacob touched my collar and said, "Palace," then dropped his hand. "Behave, girl. If you're lucky, a kind lord will pamper you as long as you stay pretty. There are worse places in the world to be."

With that little lecture, he passed me along like a delivering a package. There were better places to be, as well, I thought, such as home. It seemed unlikely I'd ever see my home again.

I was led to a large room with huge pools of steaming water. Several girls lounged in the pools, glancing curiously as we entered. Even in my terror, I marveled at the hot water and wondered how so much of it could be kept warm.

Davis instructed me to bathe myself. While I scrubbed, he illuminated me on my purpose.

I wouldn't be one of these girls. No, I was to be sold to the highest bidder, a wealthy man buying the privilege of taking my virginity. After my captor's crude treatment, I wasn't surprised. I was at the limits of my terror; nothing else could increase it, and I could do nothing about it anyway.

Dripping wet and still naked, I stepped out of the bath.

Davis dabbed me with a soft towel, paying special attention to my breasts. "Wonderful. Onto the auctions, then. You'll be just in time for tonight's bidding."

I froze. "I-I thought there would be training?" Anything to delay the inevitable. There was a difference between the distant eventuality and the very near reality.

He raised a brow. "What? Nonsense. Virgins don't need training. Come along now."

We headed down another long hall. This area was much grander, though I wasn't any judge of such things -- tall, marble pillars framed the doors, soft rugs met my bare feet, and elegant paintings hung from the walls. The hall opened to a large room with a wealthy-looking crowd. I'd never seen so much silk and gold before. So much noise, so much activity. I wasn't given any time to gawk.

Brushing my collar and handing me a piece of paper, Davis commanded. "Take this to the stage."

Confused for a moment, I didn't move until I spotted a raised wooden platform. My feet stepped forward. Perhaps if I closed my eyes -- but there was no time to experiment.

An older man noticed me as I paused on the bottom of the dais, my legs unsure whether to go up the stage or remain where I was.

He beckoned impatiently. "Come, come. Let's see... virgin, eh? Lovely. Twenty, Fiona, village of South Riverton... mmm, nevermind that. Stand with the group of girls there, in the back, hurry up."

He shooed me away and I found myself walking obediently, entirely of my own volition. This was my chance to run -- except, where would I go? Wearing nothing but a collar that marked me as a slave, I'd be caught before I made it to the door.

The girls, also all naked and wearing collars, examined me far too closely. Their critical gaze brought a blush to my cheeks as I passed them, and I didn't dare return the scrutiny. My arms slowly lifted to hug my breasts.

"Don't do that!" a tall, red-haired girl hissed at me, smacking my arms. I pulled back, startled. She leaned closer. "Don't ever hide yourself, they don't like that. Lift your chin, shoulders back. Which House did you come from? How did you even get into the palace?"

"The palace?" I sputtered. "I... I don't know where I am. I was... taken a few... a week ago?"

She blinked twice and formed a surprised 'o' with her mouth. "Taken. You... oh, you poor thing. Well, stand straight and try to remember not to hide yourself," she mumbled condescendingly. Turning back to the other girls, they were all soon glancing at me with pitying, judging looks.

I clenched my fists at my side and stared at the ground. Not a single person had shown me a hint of kindness or humanity. Not even the women were nice. And what had she meant about the palace? This room was pretty, I supposed, but I didn't remember walking through any grand gates or large gardens that were always present in my books.

A booming, deep voice interrupted my thoughts. "Welcome back, Lords and Ladies! We have quite a few lovely, well-trained, eager-to-please darlings just waiting to show you a night -- or longer -- of wonderful pleasures! And we have one final surprise later this evening!" He paused, lifting both hands. "Innocence is a quality easily feigned, but this girl is completely real! We'll see her in just a bit!"

He was talking about me. These other girls weren't virgins, then. By the sounds of it, they hadn't been kidnapped either. Were they here voluntarily? I risked a glance at them, curious and confused.

While of varying heights and hairstyles, the differences ended there. They were uniformly slender, young, and beautiful. A few were massaging each other's shoulders. I stared at one girl squeezing another's breasts as they chatted. Her hand paused when she laughed. My eyes skittered away.

The announcer called a girl to the front, smacking her ass when she joined him. She giggled and mimed a curtsey at the crowd. While he described her obvious physical qualities, she twirled and bent, showing each feature at different angles. I blushed for her. She didn't seem the least embarrassed, but I couldn't imagine doing the same. Yet I was going to, wasn't I? Dread coiled in my stomach as I touched my collar.

Then the man began explaining her skills. I listened in increasing horror at everything she was apparently fantastic at: sucking cock (in his words, not mine!), holding her breath for two full minutes, a strong tongue for rimming, a tight pussy despite years of experience, and a tighter, little-used ass. I barely understood half of what he was saying, but my imagination filled in many of the gaps as she spread her legs and rolled her hips.

Despite all of this, bids for her seemed low and few. She went to a fat little lord who only wanted her for the night. He bought a few more girls before ambling off with a train of naked women.

The girls around me disappeared one by one. Nerves tightened my chest and sweat gathered in my palms. A random man was going to buy me and use me -- my body. I was likely to lose my virginity tonight, perhaps in a matter of minutes. Panic gripped me. My eyes darted to the door.