Author's Notes: As is the norm to state on Literotica, all of the characters participating in sexual acts in the story are over the age of 18.
This story contains scenes of nonconsensual/coerced incestuous sex (and little else.) If you don't like such stories, I'd advise you to not read this one, and if you do, I hope that you won't be disappointed (much.) I'm also not going to pretend that this story is painstakingly historically accurate. It is simply my exploration of a concept that, surprisingly to me, doesn't really seem to be used on this site all that much.
Please, don't forget to comment, rate and if you like it, favorite the story. Constructive critique and feedback are always welcomed.
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Sometime in the early 1000s, around the north-western Carpathians.
The old, heavy carriage seemed as if it was about to fall apart at any moment as its wooden wheels slowly turned on the isolated, grass-covered road, shaking occasionally as it ran onto one of the many rocks hidden in the grass before a collision with a particularly large stony obstacle finally forced its annoyed occupant's head out of its window.
"What are you doing you blind old man!? Are you trying to kill me?" a young woman yelled out right after sticking her head out to look at the elderly, skeletal coachman, prompting him to look at her, only to find her clear green eyes shining with disproportionate malice and hate. "You know I can have you hanged for less, right?"
"God is my witness, I'm trying my best my Lady, but I can only lead the horses through the road that is there," the man hurriedly replied, continuing to stare at her before realizing how much he might've been overstepping his social role and quickly turning his head back forward to look at the grassy road.
It wasn't his fault, though. He was sure that any man would've found it a tall order to take his eyes off of her, and not just an old fool like him, constantly dreaming about old loves that never really were. She was beautiful, and the contrast between the anger in her voice and her beautiful looks was even more captivating than her looks themselves.
He hadn't gotten a good look at her when they started their journey in the darkness of late night, but now, with the morning sun shining brightly, he could see her shiny, silky black hair which reached almost halfway between her stuck-out head and the rocky ground they, unfortunately, had to traverse, which perfectly contrasted with both her big, shiny green eyes and her alabaster-like skin. From what he now saw of her body, it seemed to be even lither than he had thought at first sight, while the small hints of her ample cleavage that he just see, covered, as was her entire body, in a tight, expensive orange dress, seemed to be even more well-developed than he had thought.
The angry young aristocrat, on the other hand, was more than happy to take her eyes off of the starved body of the old servant and pull her head back inside of the shaking carriage. She grinned in amusement thinking about the way the old man had just been looking at her. Was it her mention of hanging, or his own, rather insincere, mention of God? Maybe both. After all, there were still many in those remote parts of the world who still foolishly clung to the idols and demons of their ancestors, who led them to defeat after defeat at the hands of Christians, and eventually complete conquest.
Were the old fart one of those pitiful fools, which she could easily imagine to be the case, his reaction made complete sense, as it would've been even easier to have him hanged if she wanted to than she had thought, the idea of which brought the grin from moments before back on her face for a few moments, before the infuriating reality of her situation had hit her again.
Was she not completely sure that doing so would finally make it break down to pieces, she would've happily kicked the wooden wall in front of her to calm her nerves. Not only was her inheritance pitiful, even after two of her brothers had taken themselves out of the line of inheritance, but the road she had to traverse just to get it simply
had
to be this bad. And if by any miracle this wooden cage somehow managed not to fall apart on the sharp rocks and manage to reach the destination, allowing her to step out of it, most likely still shaking from the unpleasant journey, what even was there for her to look up to finding the moment she did so?
What was waiting for her there, now that she was a baroness? A dozen or so peasant families to work as her servants and on the fields, of which there were just enough hectares for them all to live on and off of. A property so small and secluded that her father himself had occasionally forgotten about it, not least because of how far away it was from his, now her brothers', main possessions, or, really, from any bigger city or any real civilization.
Nothing but semi-pagan wilderness where time might as well have stopped a few centuries ago, sparsely populated by simple, pitiful existences whose understanding of the world barely went further than understanding that they were supposed to always obey and provide for the owner of the land they were to work their entire lives. Which was now her.
Looking out at the scenery she thought so little about, the large plains intermittently covered by thick, dark woods, vast ice-covered mountains far at the horizon encircling seemingly all of it, and not a single sign of human habitation anywhere so far, she just sighed to herself. While those sights were a lot less infuriating than the constant sounds of the carriage's creaky, wooden wheels fighting their way through the grass, rocks, and, for the last few minutes by now, mud, which accompanied the insufferable shaking of the vehicle, and admittedly were even a bit awe-inspiring, they were still not the least bit annoying.
Reclining against her seat, she briefly thought about how she had come to feel this way.
When she was just a child, she used to be quite angry after finding out just how much more her four brothers were fated to inherit, though, she had eventually come to terms with it, especially after one joined the clergy and another threw his life away to be with an enslaved woman who knows where.
Then, after growing up a bit and realizing how unimpressive and ordinary her family's properties were, anyway, the familiar feelings of rage at being somehow betrayed returned, though, eventually, she got through that as well.
And now, all of those feelings were for some reason coming back.
Maybe, if she knew what she had actually just inherited. Maybe, if her land happened to be beautiful and she knew when she'll see it, she would have something to soothe her wounds with...
"Coachman!" she yelled out almost without thinking after blankly staring out of the windows for several minutes, this time not even bothering to stick her head out to look at the old man, certain that the sound of her voice alone was more than enough to capture his full attention given the way their previous interaction had gone. "When will we finally arrive to the lands I had inherited?"
"Erm, I believe we've been traversing them for a couple of minutes, my Lady," he shyly replied.
"And you didn't tell me sooner?" was the immediate, and angered, reply.
"Apologies, my Lady, I hadn't thought it important as we're still far from the castle," he sheepishly apologized.
