The King and His Men.

Chapter 4:

Chapter 4

I bit my lip to keep myself from screaming. As his hands trailed down to my waist my fists clenched as I smothered the urge to bat away his perverted hands. His fingers laced through the material. My stomach lurched and I stayed tense.

“I actually prefer those clothes off of you. Maybe we can take a bath together. I could clean you, you could clean me and then we can become dirtier.” I could see the smile in his voice.

I swallowed but stayed strong. “I’m feeling really tired, I should probably go to bed,” I said as confidently and calmly as I could.

The hands stop trailing down my skin and just rested on my shoulders.  “Of course, my child. I shall see you to your room.” He took my hand and I reluctantly squeezed it. We walked out the door and down the hall. “You don’t rest so far from my chamber so if you are in need of comfort…come to me.”

I nodded my head and opened my door. I really wasn’t that far away so I plan on never ever coming near him if I could help it. I was so close to slinking away when a hand shot out and pulled me to him. His lips were suddenly on mine and I was struggling not to swallow his tongue because it was so far down my throat. His lips were chapped and urgent and the most disgusting things I have ever felt. I just stood still making sure that I didn’t anger him or lead him on to anything. While he kissed his hands roamed my body and eventually landed on my breasts.

When that happened I pulled away, gave a strangled smile and basically jumped into my room. I struggled for the lock but found out there wasn’t one. Feeling violated and not wanting him to sneak into my room tonight I dragged a heavy loveseat in front of the door. It took all of my energy but when I knew it was secure I was actually relieved. My skin was crawling and shivers kept travelling up and down my back.

His hands were grope-y and revolting. Just thinking about it made my body cringe and in the end I spent part of the night heaving up my insides out the window. A horrible taste was left in my mouth, I wasn’t sure if it was from the bile or the Kings gross tongue. I wonder if he enjoyed that. Getting kicks out of other peoples torture. He is going to force one of the women, including me, into marrying him. We were going to be his play thing, something he got pleasure out of tormenting. I would rather die that let him marry me. I don’t care if he killed me on sight or slowly I would be happy to die.

I washed my mouth, brushing it furiously to get the feeling of the Kings tongue to disappear.  In the end I changed out of the dress quickly, not wanting the King to suddenly appear and sexually abuse me again. The night gowns were very revealing or made of expensive materials, some I have never felt before in my home town. I didn’t want to pick anything that pushed towards me liking the Kings treatment. I picked a gown that went just passed my knees, which happens to be the longest in the wardrobe. It was a peach colour with a light pink ribbon under the breast. I buttoned up the two buttons that hid my breasts only barely. I was glad I didn’t have the big boobs like some of the girls I’ve seen.

I brushed my hair, like my usual routine back home and hopped into the massive four poster bed. I pulled down the privacy curtains and snuggled under the heavy quilts. I didn’t want to think about all the other girls that have slept in this bed. I wasn’t jealous, heck no; just more sympathetic about the number of girls before me that had to stay here against their will.

The weight of the blankets was making my eyes feel heavy and I was close to sleep. It has been a long day and I wasn’t prepared for tomorrow. My stomach churned at the thought but I shut my eyes tight and tried to relax my body as much as I could.

I wanted my mother. I wanted to go back home to Santania town, my home town, and the place I call home. I wanted to be back in my house, I wanted to be back in my own warm bed. I wanted to be able to pick whoever I wanted to marry in the future. But most of all I wanted to get out of this place with my mother. She had been tortured into unconsciousness.  Her body had been battered and bruised making her once perfect skin scarred by blotches and scabs. I wanted to see her, to make sure she was okay. I wanted to make sure that they hadn’t just thrown her into a dumpster for the dogs to feed on. I would never forgive them for that.