Stories of the Child Bride II

By Leslie Schmidt



"You know, this is as much a surprise to me as it is to you."  I 
wasn't quite sure how to address the child standing in front 
of me-neither of us had any idea things would happen this 
way.

"Yes sir," she said, looking up at me with some nervousness 
twinged with an undercurrent of fear.

"I promise you, my country is not a bad place, you will attend 
school with my sister and cousins. In fact, I'll bet you and my 
sister will become great friends."

"I hope so, sir."

It was a very strange meeting, to be meeting your future wife, 
the...girl...you'd be marrying the next day, only to find that 
she was not who you had expected.

Livia and I had been exchanging letters for a year, ever since 
our fathers had decided that the best way to counter the 
growing powers of the East was to join our families and 
combine our kingdoms.  While I certainly can't claim that I 
loved her, and I'm sure she felt the same, I had come to look 
forward to her letters and felt that our marriage would be 
pleasant.  But, the Gods had decided differently and taken her 
only a week before I arrived.

The trip up river had been slow, high waters had brought us 
to a standstill on several occasions, covering the horse path 
and stopping the tow. Then we would have to kedge along, 
passing a line upstream with a canoe to be tied to a stout tree, 
then pulling the barges along. A couple of times we had 
almost foundered on snags.  But, then, on the seventh day my 
oarsmen rowed my barge the last miles upstream to the foot 
of the castle.
 
The soil on Livia's grave had not yet settled, a fever had taken 
her, and, to preserve the united alliance, to be able to surprise 
our enemies with our unity when the snows melted in the 
passes, I would still marry, but to Stephanie, the second 
daughter.

She looked so small and alone as we stood before the Bishop, 
stumbling with her half-remembered lines, not truly 
understanding that the wheels of empires were turning to 
place her there.  Afterwards, at the banquet, she had asked 
her mother if she could run and play and had a shocked 
expression when she was told to ask her husband.

"I have read your letters," the Queen said to me.  "You seem 
a man of compassion, be kind to my child."  There were tears 
brimming in her eyes.

"Madam, I understand.  Stephanie has nothing to fear from 
me."

"You are her husband, but, she still needs a father."

"I will do my best to be both to her," I said.  "At Avencorte 
she will be treated as due a princess and future queen, but she 
will also be allowed to grow up in her own way."

"Tonight, the consummation will be witnessed, as is our law.  
Please, do not make her feel any more shock that is 
necessary."

"I understand."

And so, now she stood before me, at the foot of the bed, still 
dressed in her red wedding attire.  I sat on the edge and 
looked at her.

Stephanie's hair color can not be described.  Next to a black 
hair will be a blonde, followed by red.  The mixture gives a 
chestnut impression from a distance, but upon closer 
inspection the full spectrum of colors are reveled.  She has it 
long, wearing it straight down her back, parted in the middle.  
It is wavy and falls in corkscrews on either side of her face, 
almost reaching her elbows.  This frames an oval face with a 
domed forehead and large green eyes.  Her nose turns up 
slightly and her lips are full and dark.

She is light framed but fast, like a whippet, or maybe an 
Italian greyhound.  Long arms and legs, but not gangly.  Her 
skin has a full color, not at all washed out but not quite the 
olive of some of her people.  Although I had never dallied 
with the affections of girls before (although a man of my 
stature certainly was entitled in my country) I will say that she 
was as alluring as any child, just a decade old, could be.

I knew that, in her country, girls were not to be touched by 
men like me, well into my third decade and potentially the 
father of one like her.  As for me, however, I had spent 
almost half my life now on the edges of my father's domain, 
doing battle with those who would have our river valleys and 
the food they produce.  While I had had my share of the 
camp followers, sometimes going for weeks with a different 
maid every night, the charms of one so young were new to 
me.  Also, I was married now and had pledged my fidelity, at 
least in public, and would be sharing my bed with this slip for 
now. 

That thought both shocked and amused me.  Here was my 
opportunity to mold my lover, teach her to be exactly what I 
desired, to know what I wanted and how to give it.  Of 
course, this would only happen with great patience, 
gentleness, and understanding from me.  I am not foolish 
enough to think that she would not have her own desires and 
demands.  But for now, she was a nervous little girl, not 
knowing what was going to happen this night or in her 
future, faced with a full grown man and the prospect that she 
must loose her maidenhood this night or the Gods would 
curse our marriage and the union of our peoples.  Also, she 
must have known that there were, in the background, behind 
the curtains, at the door, watchers to testify to the 
consummation of our marriage, and to slit my throat if I 
treated her harshly.

I had a decanter of wine with me, the gold inlay tray was on a 
table with two goblets.  "So, Stephanie, would you like some 
wine?"

"Yes sir."

I stood up and walked to the table, "Please, I am Timon, 
especially when we are alone.  Please don't call me 'sir'."

"Yes, Timon."

I was holding a glass and pouring the wine, "A simple 'OK' 
will do, dear."  I gave her the glass, "I'm your husband, we 
need to become friends."  She remained silent, looking down 
at her glass.  I took a drink and she did likewise.  Then I sat 
back down on the bed and patted it next to me.  She sat 
down to my right, holding her glass in her lap.

"Tell me about your friends," I said, leaning back on one of 
my hands and half turning to her.

"Well,...who do you want to know about?"

"Who's your best friend?"

She was silent for a moment, looking down, "That's Marium, 
Magistrate Awlen's her father."

"What do you do?  How old is she?"

"Oh," she said, relaxing some, "she's ten, like me, only her 
birthday is in February, not July.  We're both Master 
Dunbar's students."

"So you are in class together?"

"Master Dunbar is our teacher"

"Does he teach anyone else?"

"Oh, yes, there are seven of us."

"Oh...." I said.  "And you all are all your age?"

"No sir."  She was beginning to relax.  "Michael and Aaron 
are each 17, then there's Celsy, she's 15, then me and 
Marium, then Betty, Aarons sister, she's 8 and then Cornielia, 
my sister, she just turned 7."

"And you all pretty much have the run of the castle?"

"We sneak out whenever we can," she paused for a moment, 
looking uncomfortable, "don't tell my mother, she'll be 
angry."

I didn't tell her that she just had, I was pretty sure her mother 
was watching from behind a wooden panel on the far side of 
the room.  I had found three such hiding places in my 
inspection of the room the night before.

"I won't".  I kept a conspiratorial tone.  "So you sneak out 
into the woods?"

"Yeah, we play out there some, sometimes we go swimming 
in the stream."

"That sounds like fun," I said.  "Could you show me where 
you swim tomorrow?  I love to swim."

"Well...it really is just our kid's place."

"OK, if you don't want to...I won't invade."  I had to keep 
the conversation going.  "So, you kids spend a lot of time 
partying in the woods?"

"Well, when ever we can."

"What do you do?"

Now she looked uncomfortable, not in a bad way but in a 
childish embarrassed way.  "We just run and play tag and 
stuff like that." 

"The other night I saw you all sneaking off from the banquet.  
I notice that, one at a time, you all disappeared into the same 
doorway.  Where did you go?"

Now she did look embarrassed.  "We went up into the East 
Tower."

"Do you all get together and play games up there."

"We play 'Whist and Tacks," she said.

"Ohhhhh!  Now there's a good game.  We used to play it lots 
when I was a kid.  Does the winner of each hand get a kiss?!"

"Yeeeesssss."  Her replay was nervous.

"So, when you win, do you get a kiss from ALL the boys?"  I 
had her know, every gaggle of castle or palace kids I've ever 
known, or been part of, gets into some pretty raunchy games.  
Comes from being in a place where solders and kitchen 
workers or sometimes Kings and chambermaids are always 
having secret trysts in dark corners or behind curtains.

"So you know all about kissing boys."

"Oh, no sir!"

I had scared her know, she was afraid I'd feel she had been 
unfaithful.  With a conspiratorial look I said, "Don't worry, I 
grew up in a palace too, I know what it's like."  I paused, 
"Now, you've got to show me how you kiss when you've lost 
a quiver and you have to give the winner a really BIG kiss."

That got her attention and she started to grin.  "But we aren't 
playing W and T."  Now she was being coy.

I just reached up and, putting my hand around her head, 
pulled her to me.  She laughed slightly just before we kissed 
and, when I ran my tongue along he lips, she opened her 
mouth really wide and our tongues met.

It was really kind of awkward, our teeth even bumped 
because she had her mouth so wide open but, well, it was 
definitely a start.  I dropped my hand from her head down to 
her shoulder, then reached up with my other and moved it up 
her arm, rubbing gently.  At the same time, I took control of 
the kiss, taking her chin and showing her how our lips must 
rub as our tongues entwine.  After a few moments, she pulled 
away.

"You kiss very well, I said quietly while staring into her eyes.  
I think I will really like having a wife who kisses so well."  I 
pulled her back to me and we kissed again.  I felt her hand 
tentatively rub along the nap of my neck, my cock surged.

I broke the kiss but kept my mouth close to hers, her breath 
was warm on my cheeks and lips. I dropped my hand from 
her chin to her side but gently rubbed her chest with my 
thumb.  Underneath the leather vest I could feel just a slight 
rise, she closed her eyes and exhaled.  I went back to kissing 
her, now bringing my hand across her breast, feeling it with 
my palm.  She returned my kiss with abandon.

We were like this for over a minute, she had both her arms 
around my neck, I had one arm around her back, my other 
hand massaging her chest.  I moved my hand down to her 
waist and made a half hearted attempt to work it under the 
vest, I knew it wouldn't work but it told her of my intention.

She broke the kiss and looked at me, then turning said, 
"Unlace me."  She pulled her hair to the side.  The vest was 
closed at the back with leather strings, tied at the top.  On the 
front was a dragon design, it's wings spread as it took flight, 
the long neck across her chest and the head, mouth opened, 
just on the front of her left shoulder.  The tail snaked around 
her right side and crossed her back, the two parts aligning 
nicely across the opening.  The arrowhead end of the tale was 
on her left shoulder blade.

I untied the knot, then worked at the leather lacings pulling 
them through the grommetted  holes to loosen the garment.  
When it came free, she slid it down her arms and let it fall to 
the floor, then she turned to face me and I surprised to see 
another dragon, much like the first, in gold embroidery across 
the quilted front of her dress.

This dress closed with three buttons at the top of each 
shoulder.  Looking at me with a quiet and self-assured 
expression, almost sultry, Stephanie reached up and undid the 
three buttons on her left shoulder.  Now it fell open and 
again she let it fall forward, but this time she had to work the 
sleeves off her arms, and when she stepped out of the 
crumpled dress she looked up at me and smiled, wearing a 
white shift that only reached mid-thigh, and leather boots that 
just reached her knees.

"I'll unlace your boots," I said.  She put her foot on my knee, 
as I reached up to undo the first hook-and-eye, I noticed the 
knife in a holster along the side.  I pulled it out, a long, thin 
blade that glowed and sparkled, a bone handle with two in-
laid emeralds.  I tested its balance.

"Very nice," I said.  "I hope you never need to use this on 
me."  I tested its sharpness with my thumb, it would slice off 
a finger, or a throat if needed.

"I don't think I'll have to," she said as she took the knife.  
Then with an impossibly quick underhand movement the 
knife flew across the bed and stuck into a wood panel behind 
the head, an easy reach from the bed.

"You feel the need to have that handy?" I laughed.

"Just so I know you'll behave yourself."  She grinned.

I had not expected my ten year old bride to bring a knife to 
our wedding bed, obviously the dragon on her dress had been 
an appropriate decoration.

I finished loosing her boot, then switched to the other.  She 
slipped out of thick, long socks with the boots, now standing 
a couple of feet from me.  Again she looked at me with a sort 
of challenging expression.  I nodded to indicate her shift.  She 
gathered it around the hem, then pulled it up and over her 
head.  I drew in my breath with surprise.

Now she was wearing only a small cloth triangle, held up with 
strings, that covered her sex.  But, again there was the dragon.  
This one was outlined in spidery black lines, arms around her 
ribs, hind talons on either side of her stomach, its wings 
spread protectively.  The neck curved up between her just 
barely raising breasts, the head glared up at me from her left 
shoulder, the tail snaked around her right hip to reemerge 
between her legs at mid thigh, then come up, the end a dark 
triangle just to the right of her covering.

"Is that a tattoo?"

"It's henna, it'll fade in a few weeks," she paused.  "Do you 
not like it?"

"Oh, no!  It's beautiful," I was inspecting her like she was a 
statue.  "Who did it?"

"My mother.  She's been drawing these all my life."  Now she 
held up her arm, I hadn't noticed the faded cuffs, small dots 
and twirls that made the pattern of leaves and berries on her 
arm.  Without saying any more she pulled her last covering 
off, then stood up to show herself.

I was shocked by my reaction.  In front of me was the most 
sexually exciting thing I have ever experienced.  Stephanie's 
hair fell down over her light shoulders, then over her chest.  
One of her developing breasts was covered, the other in a 
parted stream of her multicolored locks. A small rise, just a 
slight swelling under a dark pink arolea, itself the size of a 
medium coin with a nub of a nipple  peaking out.  The 
dragon, its wings spread across her upper abdomen, covering 
her ribs and stomach.  Below, almost encircled by the 
dragon's tail, her completely unadorned sex, full lips, the gates 
to her future womanhood, with only a hint of lighter flesh 
pushing out between them.

She giggled then went past me, crawling on the bed.  As she 
moved toward the head on her hands and knees I had a 
marvelous view of her hairless clam peeking out from 
between her thighs.  She rolled onto her back, her legs 
comfortably apart, her head framed by her hair spread out on 
the pillows. "Well, I'm ready, how about you?"

I smiled but couldn't but feel a little awkward as I pulled off 
my boots while trying not to fall over.  This time, thankfully, 
the leather straps holding my breast plate came free easily, it 
clanked as it fell forward on the stone floor.  Next I removed 
my tunic, then and finally my britches, Stephanie had a small 
smile when she first saw my half hard cock.

I crawled up the bed on my hands and knees too, Stephanie 
lay back as I knelt over her.  Then, when I leaned down to 
kiss her, our tongues meeting again, I was startled to feel her 
hands wrap around my dick, gently pulling on it.

"Mmmm, I've never touched one before," she said through 
our kiss, then she looked down at it.  "It's not always stiff like 
that?"

"Only when I'm with someone as sexy as you," my voice was 
rough, I could feel that if we continued like this for long, I'd 
spew all over her stomach.  I backed down, pulling my cock 
away from her hands.

She gasped when I started sucking on her left nipple, looking 
the defiant dragon in the eye.  It had been daring me but, as 
it's owner writhed under me, it knew that I had won.  I 
brought my hand up along the inside of her thigh to their 
meeting, her soft and smooth sex was warm with just a small 
dampness within the slit.  Stephanie put her hand around my 
head as she humped to meet my hand.  I insinuated my finger 
up inside her, spreading some of her wetness, and moved 
across her chest to the other nipple.  With my thumb I circled 
her clit and was rewarded by her intake of breath.  She went 
ridged and gasped, I could feel her vagina trembling around 
my finger, she was suddenly damp with sweat and her pussy 
was suddenly slippery.

I laughed quietly as I released her, then started to move 
lower.  I wondered what her mother thought, watching a 
strange man so easily bring her ten year old daughter to her 
first climax.  Was she angry?  Was she sad?  Did she have her 
hand under her dress, desperately shoving three fingers deep 
inside herself? 

"Oh God," was all Stephanie said when she realized what I 
was doing.  From then on she uncontrollably pushed her sex 
into my face, having rolling orgasms, one after another.  In 
just a few minutes she lay panting on the bed, her skin shiny 
with sweat, her hair matted and tangled.  She was half 
unconscious as I drew her back down the bed, lifting her by 
her hips.

Now, with her on the edge, I had to put some pillows on the 
floor under my knees, she was spread before me, her arms 
over her head, her small stiff nipples still pointing at the 
canopy, she was totally open, totally abandon to me.

I went down on her again, her lips were pulled fully open. I 
used two fingers to spread the reddish inner lips to see the 
membrane restriction, with its small hole in the middle.  I'm 
sure that this was the only time it was ever seen.  Stephanie's 
eyes widened when she felt the head of my cock against her 
and she grabbed my arms below the elbows.  With both my 
thumbs, I was spreading her lips, nestling my cockhead at the 
gates, then we locked gazes as I started to push.

Her eyes widened and she took in a deep breath as I pushed 
against her, she tucked her chin and pursed her lips just 
before I shoved.  A low growl came from her throat as my 
cock settled deep inside her.  I looked down at my blood 
stained dick as I pulled back, then pushed in again.

She spread her legs even wider, welcoming my invasion of 
her sex, and pushed up to meet me as she dug her fingernails 
painfully into my arms, breaking the skin and causing two 
small rivulets of blood to work down each to my wrists. She 
wrapped her legs around me ass, pulling me against her, then 
wrapped her arms around my shoulders, lifting herself off the 
bed.  She bit me on the collar bone, hard, bringing more 
blood as I pumped my seed into her.

I rolled onto my side, then back, keeping her on top of me, 
but, even a spent as we both were, she wasn't finished.  
Keeping my cock inside her, she again started to rock back 
and forth on me, groaning and shoving hard against me, as 
she brought herself off again, this time, thankfully, not
biting me. 

A few minutes later I got up and inspected the scene. There 
was a smear of my blood on her cheek, more of my blood on 
her shoulders and back, and more on my cock and smeared 
around her ass crack and down her thighs.  As I stood next to 
the bed it looked more like we had been in a sward fight than 
making love.

She rolled over onto her back and looked up at me, then at 
the knife.  She reached up and pulled it out of the woodwork, 
inspecting its blade. "So, now, Valarian, you see why 
Calionian men are so devoted to their women."