The Chinese Lantern Bride
This is a multi-part series about a widower who finds himself in possession of a mail-order bride.. who — doesn’t exactly turn out the way he expected. Will he break her before he gets the chance to discover that she might just be the piece of his life that he was missing? This is a prologue to the actual story and could work as a standalone story.
All characters are above the age of 21 years old.
Prologue
My Loving Daddy,
How swiftly do the days fly when you have a baby to take care of! I wish I could have written sooner but your grandson has been quite the demanding little calf. He just has that determined glint in his eyes that I find all too familiar. I’ve seen that same look on your face so often as a child when my behavior went out of line. In a way, this eases the ache of being away from you since it’s such a piece of my childhood, of home.
I miss you, Daddy, more than words can express. I am incredibly happy in Markleeville with David and our precious Denver but a part of my heart will always be with you. I do hope that you have been well. On this note, I have a strange request to ask of you. Please write back and tell me about your day. Just a normal, uneventful day. I don’t even care if it’s a monologue about one of your new Chinese curios that I never quite understood. I just want to feel as though I was there with you.
The little terror’s awake so I must cut this letter short. But do indulge your little girl. I look forward to hearing about your long, boring, beautiful day.
Your Affectionate Daughter,
Annie
—–
Dearest Annie,
My day went well. There are two new hotel guests whose company I do not find unpleasant. They checked in early this morning and will likely be staying for a week.
The rest of the day was slow.
I miss you as well, my darling.
Be well, my child.
—–
Dear Taciturn Daddy,
You’re always so economical with words! It seems as though I ought to be more explicit. Have there been any lovely ladies keeping your company? Do you find any of them attractive? I’m sorry for prying, it’s just that the prospect of you finding warm and meaningful companionship has always brought me hope and joy. It has been years since Mama died and I know the years have taken their toll.
Once again, forgive me for speaking so frankly, Daddy. You know that I am always and forever,
Your Affectionate Daughter,
Annie
—–
Anthony creased his brow as a reluctant smile crept across his face. He folded the letter back into its envelope and placed it on the marble surface of his study table that had been recently bleached.
“Oh, Annie,” he sighed inwardly. “If you only knew what kind of company I have been keeping.” He felt the same unwelcome combination of affection and guilt that overwhelmed him every time his daughter wrote to him. Her gentle mockery and genuine concern reminded him so much of his departed wife that sometimes he thought the cocktail of love and pain would drive him insane.
A small movement in the corner of his eye broke his train of thought and he turned towards the distraction. The buxomly blonde in the corner of the room was a sight to behold. Long, soft curls framed her face and fell tantalizingly over her tanned breasts. Her cheeks were flushed, as if from the cold or physical exertion, perhaps both. But it was her hands that got his attention. They were not where they were supposed to be.
“How did you get free of those handcuffs?” His voice was soft, yet laced with steel. He pushed out his chair in a deliberately slow motion, holding her smug gaze as she ran her tongue over her full lips.
“I think you’d find me a lady of many surprising talents,” she purred, clearly pleased with herself. She met his hard gaze and grinned widely while raising her free hands up for his purview. She seemed oblivious to the darkening mood that was falling over him as he slowly advanced towards her.
“Clarabelle.” A quiet admonition reminded him of the brunette at the other end of the room. Unlike the blonde, she kneeled quietly on the rug, her hands and ankles bound together with a length of twisted fiber rope. Her anxious attempt to convey a warning to the blonde pleased Anthony as he knew that at least one of them had some idea of how the rest of the evening would unfold. Unfortunately for Clarabelle, her friend’s warning slipped right over her head.
“Oh Anthony, Anthony,” Clarabelle cooed in her husky voice as she slowly released the drawstring holding up the low-rise collar of her off-shoulder blouse. Pulling the collar down, she exposed first one breast and then the other. Her nipples stood at attention, little brown orbs that were just a shade darker than her smooth caramel skin. Smiling like a shark, she walked straight up to Anthony, grabbed hold of his hands and placed them over her heaving bosoms.
“You see, big guy, I’ve always been a closet kleptomania and I pilfered those keys from your pocket hours ago,” her eyes shone with triumph. Pressing herself against him, she tipped her head upwards and planted a kiss on his neck. Anthony stood as steel as a statue, his hands idly kneading her breasts. She gasped a little as his calloused palms rubbed abrasively against her sensitive nubs. Encouraged, she nibbled her way up his neck and whispered into his ear.
“I’ve been a bad, bad girl.”
He felt her hands move beneath him as she unzipped her jeans, stepped out of them and kicked them aside. She was now clad in nothing but her half removed blouse. Anthony moved his hands slowly down her tight abdomen and cupped her bum, drawing her closer to him. Her breathing quickened as she looked up directly into his eyes.
“Now,” she laughed softly. “What do you plan to do with me?”
Anthony’s face fell into a lopsided grin. The blonde looked so pleased with herself that he almost felt sorry for her. Almost. He leaned his head down towards her, and gently bit her lip. She took this as a cue and started to settle into a kiss. At that exact moment, he grabbed her by the neck and slammed her against the wall so hard that a painting crashed to the ground. Her eyes widened in alarm and for the first time, he saw that she was beginning to register the trouble that she was in.
“So you want a list of your misdemeanors, do you?”
His voice, although quiet, succeeded in drawing a shiver up her spine which he delighted in. Her eyes darted around wildly, her pupils dilating in fear.
“Answer me!”
He slammed his fist against the wall, just inches from her head. She jumped in fear, tears welling up in her eyes, smudging her crudely applied make-up. He tightened his grasp around her neck ever so slightly. “Mr Davis, please,” she choked out, her hands grabbing at his. “I can’t breathe.”
He closed his eyes, leaned forward and buried his face in her hair. He inhaled deeply, savoring the heady mix of gardenia perfume tinged with the acrid sourness of fear. He abruptly released his grasp, and she sank to the ground in a trembling heap.
“Lean over the desk,” he ordered, as he turned away from her. “Now!” His barked command ricocheted across the room and she sprang into action. Sniffling softly, she bent over his desk, raising her firm, pert bottom in the air. He picked up the handcuffs she had removed and walked back towards her, stopping by his desk drawer to retrieve another pair. He grabbed her hands roughly, making her whimper, and handcuffed them behind her back. He did the same thing to her ankles, so that she was effectively indisposed of any form of movement. Eyeing her position, he pushed her over a bit more, so that the glistening lips of her vulva were exposed.
“Let me list your infractions, one by one. You pilfered my keys like a common thief. You disobeyed my commands like an errant slave. You removed your clothes like a cheap whore.”
“I’m sorry, Anthony, Mr Davies… I… I thought it was what you wanted of me,” Clarabelle was so nervous that she found herself babbling an apology, praying that she was saying the right words. “In our trade, it is our duty to pleasure the man-”
Before she could complete her sentence, Anthony smacked her right butt cheek hard, causing her to shriek. He relished the sting on his palm, knowing that it hurt so much more on her delicate skin.
“You speak without my permission, like a brazen slut.” He brought his hand down hard on her other cheek, making her squeal again. It was obvious that she had a low pain tolerance and it gave him pleasure knowing that it would be so much easier to break her.
“One, you are a thief!” he shouted, bring his hand down again. “Two, you are a slave!” Another slap. “Three, you are a whore!” Slap, slap, slap. He could see the marks of his hand on her skin where the blood had gathered. It was an intoxicating sight.
“Four, you are a slut,” he intoned. He felt her butt muscles clench as though she was preparing herself for another blow there. Smirking to himself, he paused for a heartbeat before swatting her delicate pussy lips with the back of his palm. She shrieked louder than ever and struggled against the handcuffs in a bid to escape. He grabbed hold of her roughly and pressed his erection hard against her crotch.
“There’s no place to run, my little slut.”
Sobbing hysterically now, Clarabelle struggled against him, her feet chaffing painfully against the carpeted floor. She saw her friend still silently kneeling in the corner with her gaze averted and called out to her.
“Misty! Misty, please, help me.”
Anthony barked out a laugh. He pulled on her blonde curls so that he could whisper in her ear.
“Are you truly selfish enough to implicate your friend?”
With a parting slap on her bottom, he released her and stalked towards the brunette. Despite noticing his advance, Misty kept her eyes averted and looked down upon her hands. Gently, he tipped her chin upwards so that she was looking at him. Her brown eyes were calm, albeit slightly wary, and she kept her expression serene.
“You’ve done all this before, haven’t you?” He asked.
She nodded slightly in ascent. “Yes, Sir.”
Anthony laughed. “Good girl.” Reaching into his jeans pocket, he retrieved a pocket knife and cut her binds. As the rope fell off, he could see the red marks against her skin. She winced ever so slightly as the blood circulation returned.
“You may rise. Walk over to the desk, sit in front of the slut and spread your legs so she has access to your pussy. I like good girls and you, my dear, are about to receive your reward.”
Her eyes widening a little, Misty did all that he said. Like her friend, she wore no underwear beneath her dress and Anthony found himself treated to the sight of her cleanly waxed crotch on display right before Clarabelle’s tear stained face. The blonde looked terrified, as though she had an idea of what was coming next.
“Now, slut, unlike you, Misty has been a very good girl. You have a chance to redeem yourself. Pleasure her.”
Clarabelle turned her head, her round, frightened eyes on his. “Sir?” she whispered, adopting Misty’s terminology.
“Have you ever been with a girl before, little slut?” She shook her head silently. “Well, now, this shouldn’t be too difficult for you. Just pleasure her in the way you like to be pleasured.”
“But Sir, I can’t. Misty and I… we’ve known each other since forever and I-”
He shoved a finger right up the blonde’s ass causing her sentence to end in a shriek of agony.
“Pleasure her till she achieves release and maybe I won’t fuck you here.” He whispered, swirling his unlubricated finger mercilessly around what he knew to be her virgin ass hole.
“It’s alright, Clara. Just do it, I want you to.” Misty whispered softly to her distressed friend. Clara nodded, and leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on the folds of her friend’s pussy. Misty moaned softly, and Anthony felt a stronger tug at his already rock hard groin. Undoing his belt with an efficient action, he undid the clasps on his jeans and released his cock from its prison. He walked over to Misty and rubbed the throbbing head against her cheek. A slick of pre-cum left a slippery trail leading towards her lips. Without any instruction, Misty opened her mouth to welcome his cock. Anthony groaned as her tongue moved in slow, insistent circles around the blunt surface of the bulbous head of his shaft.
Looking down towards Clarabelle, he realized that the blonde was now staring transfixed at his cock. He knew that he had an impressive member that was almost as long as it was thick. He realized that she was picturing that monster invading her ass and it made him grin in wicked delight.
“Make better use of your tongue, little whore,” he grunted as his mind hazed over in the oral pleasure that he was receiving from Misty. Jerking to her senses, Clarabelle leaned forward and began flicking the tip of her tongue against her friend’s pink clitoris. Taken by surprised, Misty lunged forward, taking his length fully down her throat as she moaned around his cock. The throat spasms and the moan-induced vibrations sent waves of pleasure electrifying enough to almost un-man him. Anthony started bucking his hips as he proceed to fuck her willing throat.
“Oh Clara, Clara. Yes, baby, yes,” Misty gasped in between desperate cries that punctuated his every thrust.
What with his earlier ministrations and now the exquisite lesbian scene that was unfolding before his eyes, he knew that he was almost over the edge. He yanked his cock out of Misty’s mouth and walked over to position himself between Clarabelle’s thighs.
He rubbed his massive staff against her opening that was warm and dripping with arousal. “Fuck me,” he thought. “She’s actually enjoying this.” Encouraged by his position at her more accessible hole, the opportunistic blonde upped the game by setting her lips right over her friend’s clit and sucking hard.
“Oh fuck, Clara!” Misty gasped as her body tensed and convulsed as she shrieked out her orgasm.
“I’m going to breed you, then I’m going to fill you up like the little cum dump that you are.”
At that, Anthony thrust himself hard into Clarabelle, over and over again as he savored how tight and wet she was. He dug his nails into her battered bottom as he rutted her mercilessly, the violent actions of his hips coupled causing her to hiss in a mixture of the pain and pleasure that he was bringing her. With a guttural roar, he chased his climax, thrusting into her with the whole weight of his body so that the entire wooden table scrapped against the floor.
“Take this… take my seed, you shameless bitch.”
With a final thrust, Clarabelle’s orgasm finally shot through her body like a riptide as she came over and over on his invading meat. The pulsations of her spasming pussy finally got the better of him and Anthony released a loud bellow as he finally came.
——
My dearest Annie,
I spent the day acquainting the new hotel guests with the town. They are two intelligent young ladies and conversation came easily. It was an amicable way to pass the time. It appears that our local climate is overly harsh on their delicate dispositions, most unfortunately. They will most likely be on their way soon.
I appreciate your concern, my darling. Don’t worry yourself about your old man. I am coping well on my own.
Be well, my child.