Copyright (c) 2015,   madvlad.  ALL Rights Reserved

Date of first publication in Mr Double's Palisade :
Monday, April 20, 2015

This story may be downloaded by Palisade members uniquely for their private use, and 
may not be distributed for profit or posted to newsgroups or other websites.  Mr Double 
may be contacted by emailing mrdouble@mrdouble.com.


A Palisade Author story from MrDouble's archive, 
Filename: littlela.txt
http://www.mrdouble.com




story_codes: MMM+/g(8), rape, b/g, cons

story_intro: When a little girl is forcibly betrothed to a nobleman who was a rival of her recently murdered parents, she is heartbroken. Assured that she is only a wife in name only as she is still a child, she learns differently when her drunken husband barges into her room. And her degradations are only beginning.

story_language: English








Little Lady Jane

Written by madvlad


	"My Lady, Lord Edmund is waiting," Eleanor said nervously.

	Jane rose nervously, smoothing the blue gown she wore as Eleanor fussed with the flowers in her hair. The servant had been with the family for as long as Jane could remember and had always been calm and efficient. But today she seemed as frightened as Jane felt. For Jane, the tumultuous events of the past week had come to this. It was her wedding day and she was barely eight years old. 

	After patting a few errant blossoms into place, Eleanor was satisfied. Jane had always been a pretty child, her brown hair long and dark, her skin as fresh and fair as the morning's milk, and her crystal blue eyes often showing the observations of an intelligent mind. The girl often had poise beyond her years, but Eleanor wouldn't have blamed her if she were to burst into tears at any moment. 

	A week earlier, Jane's parents, had been travelling with escorts to a fair on the western lands of her father's earldom. Somehow, they had been waylaid by bandits who apparently possessed both the numbers and skill to overcome the fearsome troop of men at arms who were travelling with the earl and lady. No such band of villains was known to exist yet the nobles and their party were found butchered in a forest; the lady reportedly suffering numerous foul assaults before her death.

	There were whispers of a suspicious plot, rumors that seemed to be confirmed when Edmund, a vicious rival of Jane's father, had been granted the right to marry Jane and join the lands and riches of two earldoms into one. Such rights had to be approved of at the royal court. The king was known to be weak and undoubtedly Edmund was able to secure permission through dubious pledges of loyalty.

	Now Edmund was at the castle, demanding to be wed immediately so as to begin to exploit his new lands and treasure.

	"What do I do when I am married?" Jane asked as she and Eleanor walked to the main hall. "I know mother managed the household but I know little of that. And are there other things a wife does?"

	The child's question was perfectly innocent, but Eleanor she was far too young to be advised of things that occur in the marriage bed. Besides, the wedding today was just a ceremony to make Edmunds claims legal. Mercifully, the little girl would have at least another six years or so before she would have to endure the ravages of that beastly Edmund. She assured the girl she had nothing to worry about. Then she saw Edmund.

	The man was huge, with a gut that strained the belt of his tunic. Swallowing noisily from a goblet, he waved a grimy hand with jagged fingernails at Jane.

	"She's here," he belched. "Get on with it!"

	A friar whom Eleanor didn't recognize hastily scrambled in front of Edmund, looking half drunk and half-frightened. Eleanor gently led Jane to Edmund, placing the girl next to him before she stood back. 

	The priest's invocation was quick and garbled. Eleanor wasn't even sure when the ceremony was over until Edmund bellowed for the feast to begin. And assembly of his knights - a rotten pack of scoundrels if there ever was one, hooted as they took their place at the long table in the grand hall. Edmund sat heavily into the large ornate chair at the head. There was no place for Jane and Eleanor quietly took the girl back to her room, unnoticed by Edmund.

	Having refused dinner, Jane sat on her bed and wept as the revelry in the great hall echoed throughout the castle. Her parents were gone and now this horrid, smelly man was living here. Weary from a week of torment, Jane fell into an uneasy sleep atop the blanket.

	She woke with a start as the door to her room was kicked open. The party was still in full swing but the bulky silhouette in the doorway was unmistakably that of Edmund.

	"There you are," he slurred as he staggered into the room. "It's time you do your wifely duty."

	Jane trembled. She had heard some vague things about what men and women did together, like sharing a bed. Her bed was fine for her, but it wasn't big enough for her to share with someone like Edmund.

	"I...I'm sorry, my lord," she stammered. "But I don't think you'd be comfortable sleeping in my bed."

	Edmund swigged from a jug and snorted, coughing on the wine.

	"Sleep? I'm not here to sleep, wench. I'm here to get my due as your husband. And you know what that is, right?"

	The man's leer told Jane what he wanted. She was going to have to kiss him. She had seen her mother kiss her father plenty of times and that was always quite pleasant. But she dreaded having to kiss Edmund. However, she knew he was not someone to be angered, so she stood up and tilted her head, squeezing her eyes closed as she puckered her lips.

	The slap across her face drove her back onto the bed.

	"No, you stupid bitch," he snarled. "I want your cunt. Now!"

	Jane didn't understand what he meant, which made him angrier before he stopped and grinned.

	"So, you want to play the tease, eh? No matter."

	Edmund threw himself on top of Jane then got to his knees as he held her pinned between them. She was still in her blue dress, the flowers from her hair falling on the bed. Laughing, he gripped the neck of her dress and tore it down the middle. Jane's crying only served to inflame the man who quickly had the garment ripped all they to the hem. 

	Flinging the remnants to the side, Edmund bent down and nuzzled the girl's flat chest, making her cry harder as he bit the undeveloped flesh around her nipples and sucked noisily for several minutes. Straightening up again, he licked his lips as he regarded Jane's spit-soaked nipples.

	"You need to grow some tits for me to enjoy," he declared. "But I'm sure I can put that pretty little cunt of yours to good use now."

	Inhaling though his nose, Edmund spat a wad of snot and spit into his hand. Then he slapped it against Jane's hairless vulva, rubbing it into the modest slit. Jane sobbed with revulsion as he tried to work a finger into her.

	"So you're still a virgin, I see," Edmund muttered. "Just shows your father was not fit to be an earl if he was letting treasure like this go to waste."

	Jane didn't understand his meaning exactly. But she knew her father would have never touched her between her legs, let alone rub that slimy stuff there. When Edmund pulled his dick out, the girl gulped, unsure of what his intent was but knowing it couldn't be good. 

	Edmund flung Jane's legs far apart and pressed his glans against her tiny mound. Jane went still at the horrid touch of the man's wicked looking tool against her privates. It was disgusting and she hoped he would put that thing away soon.

	Jane's hopes were dashed when Edmund heaved himself into her. Her entrance stretched but not enough to allow the head to enter. And something else was blocking him, too. She fought for breath so she could tell him this was too hurtful.

	Edmund lurched again, this time making her portal open as he bulled his way through her maidenhead. Jane's voice returned in a high-pitched scream that was heard throughout much of the castle.

	"Sounds like one less virgin," one of Edmund's knights remarked at the table while the others guffawed. 

	They did not notice Eleanor as her hand flew to her mouth before she fled the hall.

	Edmund tore into the little girl's virgin pussy with a vengeance. She thrashed and cried beneath him, which he quite enjoyed. Using his weight, he forced his way into the eight year-old's untried sex, making her stretch a lot and tear a little as he made the child into a woman before she was ready.

	Jane's tissues were stretched perilously thin as the man rutted in her tight chamber. Pausing for a moment, Edmund grabbed the girl by the hair and lifted her head to see where their bodies were joined. The paleness of the girl's spread bald pussy lips was partially obscured by the crimson splatters of her virgin violation. The delicate labia were bulging around the thick, veined shaft of flesh stabbing between them.

	"Just thought you should appreciate all the work I'm putting into you, wife," Edmund said before he recommenced pounding into the screaming child. 

	Having raped a few serving girls already that day, Edmund went on for a long time, savagely sliding his cock through the slick clamp of the eight year-old's plundered twat. The thrusts inside her underage pussy drove Jane's mind to numbness while her body felt it was burning in the place where he was. Then she lost the relative sanctuary of her mental fog as Edmund came, driving hot gobs of sperm into her womb.

	"Now you're mine," he said. "I'll fuck you every day until you become my cow. You'll bear me sons to continue my line. And one or two daughters to entertain me when your cunt is worn out wouldn't be a bad thing, either."

	Laughing, he got off the bed and rolled Jane onto the floor as he pulled the blanket off. Returning to the hall, he lifted the blood-stained blanket for all to see. The knights cheered and the feasting grew more raucous.

	Eleanor found Jane still on the floor and comforted the girl as much as she could. Edmund's promise to go at her every day was not exactly kept as he was often gone overnight as he stirred trouble throughout his new lands and in other places. This gave Jane a chance to heal as Eleanor applied ointments and salves to her injuries. But when he did return, he was no less savage in his rapes of his little wife, taking pleasure inside the squirming and crying child's hairless genitals.

	Things grew worse as Edmund considered the new lands to be a conquest and treated them as the spoils of war. It was only the constant presence of armed men that kept the simmering hostility he created from boiling over. A man named Jonathan had served Jane's father as the steward of the castle and while had had no love for his new master, he managed to keep the peace for fear of good people getting slaughtered. And on several occasions, he had suggested some place for Edmund to go to overnight to spare Jane from her husband's attentions.

	But even Jonathan could not help her when she was summoned to the hall one evening where Edmund was carousing with his knights. 

	"Do the French thing I taught you," Edmund commanded.

	Jane looked around at the men staring at her.

	"H-here? Now?" she quailed. 

	She didn't like doing this thing but was even more mortified that others could see her shame. The look on Edmund's face told her there was no choice. So before he could utter a threat, she dropped to her knees in front of him. When he produced his cock, she immediately took it in her mouth, suckling the unwashed man meat as she moved her head back and forth. Judging from the taste of it, her husband had been pillaging other females today. The normally demure girl slobbered around his prick, the saliva occasionally escaping with rude noises when her lips lost part of their suction. 

	She couldn't help it as her mouth simply reacted to the presence of something in it. And she knew well from experience that anything less than an enthusiastic performance would make the man jam her head down on him until she was choking. Edmund leered at the girl as he face fucked her.

	"She's quite the slut when it comes to her dinner," Edmund observed, earning another chorus of laughter. 

	When he came in her mouth, Jane swallowed everything as she knew the penalty for spilling even a drop. She rose to leave but Edmund caught her arm and laughed.

	"No, no, my sweet little whore. You must show some devotion to my knights."

	Trembling, Jane went from man to man, orally servicing each one until they ejaculated in her mouth, With her belly churning with the seed of over twenty men, she tried to leave again before Edmund flung her face down on the table. He pushed her gown up to her hips, fingering the smallness of the round, bald snatch that peeked between her legs. 

	"Keep your eyes open," he warned.

	Then he plunged into the eight year-old's bruised cunny, humping her as she tearfully gazed down the table, seeing the leering faces of the men whose cum she had just swallowed. Edmund reamed her childish twat for nearly twenty minutes before he let loose inside her. His semen was still warm as it trickled down her legs when she was finally allowed to leave.

	It was a week later and Jane was in the hall again. She had assumed she would be using her mouth again as she had already done three times now but Edmund had something else in mind.
Two guards held Jonathan by the arms. The men had been in service to Jane's father and neither looked happy to be holding the steward.

	"The man is disloyal," Edmund proclaimed as he pointed an accusing finger at Jonathan. "But I shall let Lady Jane decide his fate. She can leave unmolested this evening and return to her room but the man will lose his head. Or he can go to the dungeon if she'll offer herself to me and my knights in a new way."

	Jane dreaded what new perversion lay in wait for her, but she didn't want to see the kind man die, so she reluctantly agreed to submit. Laughing, Edmund ordered that Jonathan should stay to watch. With no other fanfare, he tore Jane's dress from her and put her belly-down on the table in front of him. She knew what that meant - having to watch the men look at her while Edmund sank his prick into her twat. But this time she had the added humiliation of being completely naked.

	Wiping his hand in a platter of mutton, Edmund quickly demonstrated how different his plan was from what Jane had thought.

	"Now a wife's cunt is only to be used by her husband," he said sanctimoniously, ignoring the number of wives he had vaginally raped. "But tonight I shall tap a new keg for all of us to share."

	As the men cheered, Edmund took his greasy hand and rubbed it between Jane's milky little buttocks. She didn't understand his intention until he jabbed a finger in her asshole. 

	"She's learning fast, my lord," one of his men noted as the girl began writhing as she was fingered.

	"It's my duty as a husband to keep my wife educated about her place," Edmund acknowledged as he replaced his finger with his bulbous glans at the girl's rear entrance.

	Jane howled as she was roughly penetrated. Her anus tore and the hot trickle of blood leaked down and stained her bald cunny. Edmund's hands bruised her hips as he crammed his meat into her virgin bottom. The greasiness of his meat fouled her rectum but aided his rape. The eight year-old sobbed raggedly as she was painfully sodomized. 

	Jonathan tried to look away, as did the guards, but threats from one of the knights made the men watch as Edmund plowed his thick cock into the screaming little girl's injured ass. Her tight buttocks jiggled with the force of the thrusts and Jane remained pinned to the table until Edmund ejaculated deep inside her violated bowels. 

	Like a piece of meat, the little girl was passed around the table, each knight partaking of her tender bottom, ravishing her with hard buggering strokes inside her body until her guts were flooded with the jism of many men. By the time they were done, Jane could barely walk from the abuse she had endured.

	"A siege!" Edmund bellowed as the knights clustered in the hall. "Let Lord Bartholomew surround us, then. Our army is two days away and will catch them from the rear. These walls will easily hold until then. In the meantime, we can practice some archery skills from the tower at our leisure. But first, food and drink!"

	The knights laughed as frightened servants scurried out with flagons of wine and plates of food. While serving Edmund and his men, the servants wondered if Bartholomew could break through in time. He had been a steadfast friend and ally of their late earl. The guards on the wall wondered what would become of them - they hated their new lord, Edmund, but knew they would be forced to fight against those they considered to be their liberators or the vengeance against their families would be unspeakable.

	By the time the feast was done, Bartholomew's men had the castle surrounded, but as Edmund had predicted, breaching them would be no quick task. Edmund went to Jane's room for some recreation and was displeased to find her missing.

	"Where's my wife?" he bellowed. "I want some cunt!"

	"Please my lady," Eleanor begged. "It is too dangerous up here."

	Jane walked atop the crenelated wall until she neared the front gate. She could see Lord Bartholomew, who had been a frequent and welcome visitor here in the past. Someone pointed in her direction and she saw Bartholomew look her way. Then he waved an arm and several archers who had been tracking her lowered their bows.

	Closing her eyes, Jane tried to look past the last three months and focused on more pleasant times when her parents had been alive. She remembered how they spoke to their people and hoped she would honor their memory by doing the same. 

	With trembling steps, she approached the guards. They had been her father's men and they came to attention when she approached.

	"Am I the lady of this castle?" she asked Eleanor, her childish voice serious beyond her age.

	"Of course, my lady."

	Jane turned to the guards, trying to behave as a noble but also looking quite frightened.

	"Guards, as the lady of the castle, I order you to open the gate."

	The end was not much of a battle. With the guards doing nothing to impede Bartholomew's forces, Edmund's twenty-five knights were short work. But at least they died in battle while Edmund, running down the stairs, tripped and tumbled the rest of the way down, stopping at the bottom with his neck unnaturally skewed.

	They found Jane sobbing in Eleanor's arms, emotionally exhausted and just wanting to be a little girl again.

	Jonathan was gaunt from his stay in the dungeon, but was ready to resume his duties as steward. He was in the room with Bartholomew when Jane entered. It had been three days since Edmund's heralded demise and Jane had kept to her bed. But now she wanted to go about the castle and surrounding grounds without fear. Bartholomew hugged her and she did not flinch from the man's touch.

	"I must be going, now," he said to her. "But I think you'll be in good stead with Jonathan, here, as well as your loyal guards who saved my men a great deal of bloodshed. These lands will be under my protection until you are married. Ah yes, I should tell you that you are now betrothed to my son."

	Jane turned pale but Bartholomew, unaware of the sordid abuse she had suffered, chuckled and patted her cheek.

	"It's nothing to be frightened of. And it won't be for some years yet when you're both of age."

	Jane remembered Bartholomew's oldest son, Andrew.  He must be sixteen or seventeen now and surely ready to marry.

	"Will Andrew live here?" she asked, drawing a laugh from Bartholomew.

	"Oh no, Andrew is already spoken for. But surely you remember Timothy, my younger son."

	"Yes! He's a very nice boy."

	Jane fondly remembered Timothy, a lanky boy a few years older than her. Perhaps six months ago he had come here with his parents and had snuck a frog into the castle. Jane had thought it great fun to watch the creature hopping about and mimicked its movements, even if it was unladylike.

	"This was a match your father and I had discussed. And I have a great many friends at court who assure me His Majesty will not oppose it after his rather dreadful mistake in rewarding Edmund. When you are married in the future, he shall become the lord of these lands while Andrew shall inherit my title in time."

	"I see," Jane said. "Could Timothy come to visit? He's always so much fun."

	"Certainly," Bartholomew said with a smile. "In fact he's here now. But the thing is..." He leaned closer to Jane and spoke in a humorous whisper. "I think he's scared of you since the two of you are now betrothed. But I'm having him stay a week longer and I'm sure between Jonathan and I, we shall find the scamp and send him to see you immediately."

	Jane took her leave with Jonathan bowing to her. While he was smiling with Bartholomew, the man's eyes held a look of profound thanks in recognition of how the girl had suffered. He, too, hoped for nothing but happiness ahead. 

	Jane was trying to embroider a kerchief when she heard the tentative knock on the door.

	"Come in," she called.

	The door opened and Timothy crept in, looking nervous. He was eleven and she adored him like a big brother. Although now things would be different.

	"We're to be married when we're older," he told her.

	"I know. I hope we have fun together," she said gently, unsure of what else to say.

	An impish look snuck into Timothy's face.

	"And we could have a hundred frogs jumping out of the cake," he suggested and they both laughed. 

	"Eleanor would give me such a scolding," Jane giggled, so glad to be able to laugh again.

	When they calmed down, the bashfulness returned.

	"So what do you think of marrying me?" he finally asked.

	"If you're kind to me, I think I should like that."

	"Of course I'd be kind!" he assured her and then turned red for some reason.

	"Why are you blushing?" Jane asked.

	"Oh, it's when we get married..." Timothy started. "There's something we do....well. When they found out I was to be betrothed, some of my father's men took me to a woman and....she taught me what people do when they're married."

	Remembering Edmund all too vividly, Jane shuddered. Timothy wouldn't do that, would he? Noticing her reaction, but not understanding it, Timothy went on.

	"Oh, it wasn't anything terrible. It was much fun. And she taught me how to do things to make a lady happy, too."

	"You mean she liked it?" Jane asked, quizzically.

	"Well, yes. I....uh....I could show you if you want."

	Jane swallowed hard. What Edmund had done was horrible, but she couldn't see Timothy hurting her. She didn't want to be afraid anymore and spoke quietly.

	"What do I do?"

	"First, we take our clothes off," he said, still a little nervous.

	When they disrobed, Jane saw Timothy's cock but it didn't look like the cruel weapon that Edmund had. It was much smaller and there were but a few hairs on the boy's groin. As Timothy gazed at Jane's nude figure, he felt a stirring, particularly as he focused on her hairless cunny. 

	"Oh!" Jane remarked as she saw his penis stiffen. 

	Now it was larger, but still nowhere nearly as large as Edmund's had been.

	"It does this so I can put it inside you," he explained. "But first I have to get you ready like that woman showed me."

	They got in bed together and Jane was both nervous and curious. When Timothy placed his hand on her smooth mons and began to stroke it, she was surprised. This was a nice surprise and she felt a good kind of itch inside as the boy's fingers manipulated her immature sex. He found her clit and made Jane yip softly as he rubbed it between two fingers. The little itch inside was now taking on a different quality as if she were melting a little.

	And then he moved into her entrance, not aware that she should have had a hymen. His finger sank deeper and he carefully moved it in and out as she lubricated. 

	"This means you're ready," he croaked. "Can I put it in you now? It goes in...down there - where my finger is."

	Jane liked what his finger was doing and didn't want spoil it. But she trusted the boy.

	"Yes, but please stop if I tell you it hurts."

	"Oh, but it can't hurt," he said, surprised she would think that. "But I'll stop if you say so."

	Jane gave him a nervous smile and opened her legs. The coupling was awkward at first as Timothy was still fairly new to this and Jane's only experience had been with men forcing themselves on to her. 

	With matching delighted cries, they got it right and Timothy's cock slipped into the slippery tunnel of Jane's pussy. Timothy's breath caught as his prick was encased in the little girl's well-heated snatch. The woman's orifice had felt good, but this was a tighter fit, as if they were meant for this.

	Carefully, he stroked in and out of the eight year-old, altering his movements as he had been taught. He was proud when he heard Jane make little noises; he knew he was pleasuring her.

	Jane smiled at the boy as he moved in and out of her juicy young cuntlet. Her heart was racing as she felt the press of intimate contact sliding in her sheath, making her feel bubbly in there. 

	Timothy grunted as came and Jane received the small, sharp spurts of semen with no revulsion. She knew this meant she was now his and she liked that.

	"And that's how it's done," Timothy panted. "Did you like it?"

	"Oh yes," she agreed, wondering what would happen to those bubbles inside if they had continued longer. One of these days, they would have to find out. And she was sure Timothy wouldn't mind.

	But at the moment, he turned red again after he pulled out. 

	"Oh, I'm sorry! I forgot about the mess," he babbled.

	Jane didn't mind as she felt his issue trickling from her pussy. But Timothy grabbed a cloth by the bowl of water that was kept in the room for washing. Gently, he dabbed at Jane's crotch until she was tidied up and then cleaned his member. 

	They got dressed and sat on the bed, each happy but unsure of what to do next. Timothy stared out the window and brightened.

	"You see the pond out there?" he said. "I could skip a rock all the way across it."

	"Really?"

	"Yes. Well, maybe halfway across. Or almost halfway. Still, it's a long way. Do you want to see?"

	"Yes," she chirped, happy to be with him.

	Hand in hand, the two children went through the castle and out into daylight.



madvlad@mrdouble.com
http://www.mrdouble.bz/htm/authors/madvlad.htm






















This story is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.


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