the-poor-relation
NON CONSENT STORIES

The Poor Relation

The Poor Relation

by redhairedprisoner
6 min read
4.04 (8200 views)
adultfiction

"You cannot be serious."

Verity stared at her cousin, frozen between the desire to scream and the urge to laugh. When she had been brought from the parlor in which she and the female guests had been drinking sherry and making conversation to the one where Edward and his friends were drinking brandy and playing cards, she had suspected she might be there as a figure of fun, to demonstrate the charity that Edward Blackburn was performing in taking in his poor relation, allowing everyone to offer witticisms about her dress being out of date or the pitiful size of her dowry. She had suffered worse things in her life, and it was a small price to pay for a home and a place, however marginal, in society. The thought that something worse might await her had not even crossed her mind.

"Bad luck, I'm afraid. No use lamenting it now." Edward did not appear to be making a joke, even a cruel one. Verity cast her eyes about the assembled gentlemen in horror, looking for anyone who might be outraged or even startled by what was happening, but all she saw was amusement. No, there was more than just amusement- there was a hideous anticipation, a malevolent thrill being shared among the men. She was no mere figure of fun- far worse, she was a figure of theater.

"Please!" Verity exclaimed, looking from the guests to the servants. "You cannot allow this-"

Her protestations were cut off as a napkin was shoved into her open mouth, and another cloth tied about her lips to fully gag her. She jerked her head and caught a glimpse of the footman who had done it, and saw no more expression on his face than if he'd opened a door for company. Someone pushed her forward, and a cravat was wrapped around her wrists and tied in a clumsy knot. Verity kicked behind her, but her struggles were to no avail.

When at last she managed to at least flip herself over, she was staring into the dark eyes of Gabriel Talbot. Now her captor, soon to be her ruiner. Chestnut curls framed his sweet face- she'd been warned by friends not to be deceived by his disarming manor, and that he was far more likely to trifle with a girl than to marry her. How insufficient those warnings seemed now!

"The finest stake I've ever won in a game of Faro!" Gabriel said with an amiable smile. There was gentle laughter among the crowd as he kissed Verity over her gag, and a whistle or two when he hoisted her over his shoulder. In her last effort at escape, Verity sent a pleading look at her cousin, but he had already turned back to his friends and the next game of cards.

"There's a guest room at the top of the stairs," Edward said, "Markham will show you the way. And now, gentlemen, I've no more beautiful relations to wager, so I'm afraid we must play for somewhat lower stakes..."

Verity silently cursed him as she was carried off to her fate.

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***

Verity was still in a state of shock when Gabriel gently tossed her onto her back on the guest bed, and didn't even see where he got a blade until it was gleaming in his hand.

"Hold still, my angel," he said, his voice as gentle as if he'd been helping her down from a carriage. "I have no intention of hurting you, but I very much would like to see more of you." Heaping one injustice and indignity upon the last, he sliced through the opening of Verity's gown and stays (would her cousin be so generous as to purchase more for her, she couldn't help reflecting?) Although Gabriel Talbot was a slender man, his hands were large, and covered the breasts now bared to his touch.

"I could not help staring," he went on as his fingers alternatively gripped her flesh and teased her nipples. "I hope you will forgive me for being so forward." The rake's sardonic comment broke Verity out of a dreamlike state, where she had almost allowed herself to lie back and accept her ravishment- hearing him make light of his actions roused her back into fury. Unfortunately, her squirming not only failed to dislodge her attacker, but pressed her breasts all the more firmly into his grip. There was nothing she could do to escape being groped and made use of like a mere object, and when he kissed the peaks of her nipples, Verity pressed her legs together involuntarily.

When Gabriel removed his hands to undo his breeches, Verity was in quite an exhausted state. She hardly even had time to think through what her shaking body meant when he threw back her skirts and pressed himself inside her. Verity squealed and moaned into her gag, but her protests meant nothing to the man on top of her.

"Your cousin was a fool to offer you in a mere game," he said. (Did he think she was flattered by this?) "You are a prize worthy of an extravagant keeper. Yes, god..."

Verity's hair was coming undone, black locks pressed across her neck and forehead by sweat, and she could feel her necklace of coral beads rip open in the heat of passion. By now she had almost bitten through her gag, but she no longer had any energy to scream. What would it matter, now that she was already ruined? The moans she made were involuntary, and there was as much use fighting those as there might have been fighting the tides of the ocean.

At last, Gabriel groaned and shuddered on top of her, and she felt an ache as he slipped out from inside of her body. Lying beside her on the bed, he was finally kind enough to remove her gag, and she had just enough dignity to bite at his finger tips.

"Bastard!" she said. "You're ruined my life, all for a game of cards!"

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Instead of acting ashamed or even mocking, Gabriel had the nerve to stroke away locks of hair from her eyes, those large hands of his now as soft as silk.

"It isn't so bad as all that," he said. "A glass of wine will settle you down, or perhaps a spirit-"

"I don't want anything!"

"You may think not, but you will thank me later. Breath slowly, dear, you're working yourself up into quite a state."

Verity couldn't think of anything to say that would express her emotions at that moment, so she allowed him to hold her in her arms as if he were not comforting her from his own crime. It felt horribly warm, cruelly steady, a dreadful mix of reassuring and monstrous all at once.

"I haven't ruined your life at all," Gabriel said. "I told you, you're a prize for an extravagant keeper. Your marriage prospects were helped by your beauty and hindered by your dowry- but if you leave with me in my carriage tomorrow, I'll put you up somewhere you'll have all the comforts you seek. Your cousin may whine that I'm taking more than I won, but what could he do to stop us?"

Verity gasped for breath and uttered a few curses- which, granted, was not in and of itself an answer.

"Decide by the dawn, if you must spend time fretting.," Gabriel said. "The evening is long, and I intend to enjoy my winnings at least a time or two more before morning."

Verity stared back over at him, hardly able to believe her ears.

"I think I will have that glass of wine," she said.

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