Possessing Andley Part 1

Chapter 6

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Leadanah lay asleep somewhere behind my mind, unaware of where we were. I resolved to leave her there no matter what the man did to me. He would not have anything of her. Not our body, not her scorn not even her deadly wrath.
Marston rose from the table with his massive hand on the back of my neck and pulled me to my feet. I rose without resisting, determined not to make a mockery of myself and allow these people to watch me flounder while trying to fight someone several times my size. He held his hand there as we walked from the dining hall and turned down a long narrow, candle lit hall. The progression of partygoers followed behind whispering excitedly. Our steps clattered on the stone floor but the voices of the people behind us were muffled on the tapestries lining both sides of the wall. Time seemed to halt as we walked towards a door, it grew steadily as we approached, until finally he bade me stop before its heavy wooden frame.
"Take off your slippers. We like to keep the carpet clean." he said casually
"Carpet? I asked, staring up at him confused.
"The rug, Andley. He said amused.
I stared with my mouth slightly open, completely lost.
"Just take off your slippers." he barked.
The crowd behind us let out a soft giggle. Sylvie came up beside me placing her arm on my elbow.
"It covers the floor dear, don't be alarmed by it. Here." she said sweetly.
She bent down to one knee and gently lifted my foot and removed my slippers, placing them neatly beside the door. The floor was damp and very cold. One of the servants moved to pull the door open as Marston also slid his shoes off, using his toe on each heel and kicking them aside. As the door pushed inward there was a muffled scraping sound. I looked down and leapt back, alarmed. There was a strange bright blue substance covering the floor like a strange grass.
"No, Andley it's ok it's just a carpet. It covers the floor so our feet don't get cold. I had never seen one before I came here either". Said Sylvie.
Marston reached around my shoulder making a shooing motion at Sylvie, who backed away hastily. He urged me forward, but I hesitated at the threshold, stumbling before the strange substrate as I tried to test it first with one toe. He pressed my shoulders forward forcing me into the room. I pushed backward against him, nearly falling in the process, afraid the wash of blue would be cold or sharp or that I would sink into it. I had just begun to take note of its plush softness when with a swift scooping motion he picked me up cradling me in his massive arms. The crowd clapped lightly and giggled with pleasure, presumably, they thought the gesture to be romantic. Encompassing the round chamber wall were carpeted cascading rows of benches. Oil lamps lit the room, casting a harsh dancing yellow fire light across the rounded walls. There were 2 rows of round tables set around a pit in the center of the room. Servants quickly pulled chairs out for the nobles and began pouring wine and lighting small candles to place on the center of the tables. Marston carried me past these as the crowd behind us seated themselves around the room on the benches and at the tables. An eerie quiet settled in the room.
I peered down the pit in the center as we approached. There was a massive round bed filling the hole. Sheer curtains covered the sides with the top remaining unobscured. From the top anyone looking into the center of the room would have an unobstructed view of the bed below. It was down onto this platform that Maston carried me. I looked up as he placed me down with surprising gentleness on the soft sheets. He stood at the foot of the bed for a moment drinking me down with his brown eyes, so much like a devil's stealing the firelight as it touched them. He pulled the shirt from his waistband and slid it up his body, exposing a chiseled torso. The firelight flickered, casting dancing shadows across his body and the walls surrounding us. He dropped the shirt carelessly to the floor and reached for his belt unbuckling, it all the while locking my eyes to him. I felt my breath catch and a spark flashed in me. Prince Marston was art, carved from clean marble. I could scarcely believe this was the figure of a living man. With one hand he drew his cock from his pants, massaging it in long easy strokes. His forearm flexed as he stroked himself drawing his cock up as it grew. He lowered his pants past his hips to kick them off his feet. He leaned forward onto the bed, coming for me with his half smile reminding me again that he is a monster, not thirsty for my body, but for my pain. I felt the goosebumps begin to rise throughout my body and my heartbeat quickened.
"You can have what you want, in private please." I said.
He ignored me and moved closer, creeping up toward my legs. He stopped, kneeling over me. He ran his free hand over my thigh, caressing my skin with soft ease, squeezing lightly, pressing his claws into my flesh.
"This can feel good Andley. I can give you that." "Just be a good girl and do what I say."