Erna brought the glass up to her lips and drank the wine.
She thought if she was drunk, it would make the night pass a little easier.
With a clear head, it had not gone well so far.
She sipped, then sipped again and kept sipping little bits until the glass was empty.

   The alcohol was a lot stronger than she expected, but it was fruity enough that it was easy to drink.
The trembling in her fingers stopped.

   Erna knew the marriage hadn’t been an act of love, but an act of necessity and she wondered if Bjorn was doing this out of pity, or a sense of responsibility as her husband.
She wondered if he was just being chivalric to a woman in trouble, but that didn’t feel right either.

   As far as logic dictated, Bjorn had proposed and she had accepted for no reason.
She wondered if that was the best way.
She could concentrate on being the best wife she, he had promised to be the best husband he could and in that way, they could both be happy.

   As the heat of the alcohol raised to her cheeks, she raised the glass to Bjorn, who was sat motionless on the bed beside her.
She looked between the fate she would have loved and the empty wine glass, Bjorn raised a hand to take the glass and their hands touched.
Erna sighed, Bjorn bore a determined expression as he took the glass and placed it on the bedside table.

   “Thanks you.” Erna said.

   She was so careful at braking the silence.
Her own voice sounded foreign and distant.
She didn’t know what else to say, nothing came to mind in that moment, so she let her voice trail away into memory.

   Bjorn laughed and lay out on the bed close to her.
Although she flinched, she did not try to run away this time.
Bjorn leaned in and kissed her soft, moist lips.
He was softer, more gentle, more delicate with the fresh rose in his hands.

   Erna leaned into it and felt more docile thanks to the drunkenness.
As they kissed, Erna could feel something rise up from her toes to her tummy, a sort of excitement.
She didn’t even mind as Bjorn undid her gown and slipped it over her shoulders once more, exposing her bosom.
She calmly accepted his touch.

   “Erna,” Bjorn said, joviality underlined his soft tone.

   She opened her eyes to look at him and realised she was now laying on the bed, where she had been sitting.

   “Is this, how its supposed to be? I feel, tingly.” Erna said, embarrassed.


   Bjorn moved his hand up from kneading her breast to cup around her neck and cheek.
He thought this would be enough, so long as she didn’t start sniffing again and grating his nerves, but this wasn’t fun, having her laid here, unmoving, like a corpse.

   Bjorn sat up and begun unfastening his own clothes.
Erna looked away, as if seeing something she shouldn’t.

   “You should look at me.” Bjorn whispered.
“If not, then I will feel dirty, or wonder if you’re thinking of another man.”

   “No, its not like that.” Erna said, shock all over her face.

   While he was able to look at her so casually, she was seized with an uncontrollable feeling.
He pulled her in close and she could feel the warmth of his chest against hers.

   “Seriously, you say such unbearably insulting things.” Erna said, looking up into Bjorn’s eyes.
Her eyes were sharp, as if guarding against the loss of her innocence.

   Bjorn kissed her, practically swallowing her lips as she was about to say something more.
They fell back on the bed and Erna could feel the weight of Bjorn on top of her again.
It was a shock, but not one she shied away from this time.

   Bjorn spread Erna’s legs, which had risen up without being beckoned and he moistened her inner flesh.
She could feel him moving about in delicate motions and goosebumps prickled across her skin.
The tickle was so intense that she wriggled beside Bjorn.
Her hand fell to her side and she could feel Bjorn’s risen form.
She knew he had been erect for most of the evening, but this was her first time touching it properly.

   Bjorn’s breathing became shallow and rapid.
It matched her own breathing.
She was finally relaxing into the dizziness his touch affected upon her and it intensified as he explored.
In return, she felt the entire length of him through his breeches.
She tried to consider it, to understand it, but his movements on her sent her head into a fog and she barely realised he was there.

   By the time Bjorn got up and sat between Erna’s legs, their breathing had become excited and Erna felt like she had ran across the front lawn.
She found herself not wanting him to stop.

   Erna looked down at her husband and she felt a heat rise up to her cheeks once more.
It was like embarrassment, but not fully so.
She took in his square shoulders and large frame.
His muscles were delicate shows of strength and power.
It made her excited and anxious.
She wanted to see more of him, if not all of him.

   Like a child at Christmas, wondering at the presents wrapped under the tree, Erna studied her husbands body with the same enthusiasm.
It wasn’t until her eyes ventured down to his waist did reality snap back into focus.

   “Oh,” Erna sighed involuntarily.

   Even though she had seen one before, she stared wide eyed.
She couldn’t believe what she was actually looking at.
She looked away, as if staring would insult Bjorn and she studied the walls and ceiling just beyond the darkness of the room.

   As if suffering from poor memory, Erna looked back at the shape of her husband thinking there was some detail she missed, or reaffirms the distortion of proportions in her mind. 

Everything was the same.

   “B-Bjorn, I don’t think…, I-I mean, it’s too big, it wont fit.”

   She could feel tears coming to her eyes and blur the bottom of her vision.
She fought them back.
It was a serious concern and Bjorn simply laughed.

   “Thank you,” Bjorn said and pulled Erna gently towards him, wrapping her legs around his waist.
They were thinner than his arms.
“That’s a very touching compliment.” He said, imitating Erna’s petiteness.

   Bjorn grabbed a hold of Erna’s round waist with his firm hands, she began to struggle as she felt the unfamiliar touch of Bjorn against her tiny form.
Erna’s eyes went wide as Bjorn pushed against her with force, Erna could feel him forcing into the area she had never touched herself and she struggled against the overpressure and the pain.

   “Be still, Erna.” Bjorn pleaded.

   Erna tried to command him to stop, let her breath for a second, but it came out as a whimpering moan.
Bjorn could feel that Erna was wet enough, but she was too narrow.
It didn’t help that she was frightened and rigid of the pain.

   “B-Bjorn, it’s not going to fit.” Erna said, tears flowed again because of the pain.

   Bjorn ignored her and prepared to thrust again.
He had barely gotten himself halfway in, but Erna had not way of knowing that and she thrashed about from the pain.
She could feel him all the way inside her now and it felt like she was getting split in two.

   “It’s okay.” Bjorn tried to reassure Erna.
“You’re fine now.”

   He leaned forward and gave her a gentle kiss on her cheeks and then her lips, deepening their bond.
Sweat covered Erna’s body as much as it dripped off Bjorn.

   He looked into her watery eyes, their perfect blue hue tainted by a red puffiness caused by her crying.
He lied when he said she would be okay, but it had the desired affect.
She seemed to relax and she could feel the tension in her groin lessen.

   Bjorn didn’t hesitate, he seized the moment and thrust himself deep inside Erna.
The shock made her eyes go wide and moments later, she screamed.

   “Stop, now, Bjorn, get off.” She shouted.

   Bjorn withdrew as if he was going to back away and give Erna chance to breath, but as was almost out, he thrust his hips forward again.
Erna struggled and moaned, Bjorn grunted as he thrust once more.
His patience had worn out.

    “It-It hurts, please stop!!” Erna sobbed.

   Bjorn didn’t care any more and started thrusting faster and although the ache of it made Erna sob, the pain was no longer so bad that she could not feel the thrill of sex.
She was a woman now and she seemed to suck in Bjorn as if she’d been doing it her whole life.

   Blooms of blood formed like petals on the nightgown under her waist and smeared across their crotches.
It was a scary amount of blood, Erna recalled thinking, but at that moment the pain was gone and all that was left was the pressure in her tummy from Bjorn thrusting into her and the overpowering pleasure.

   When Bjorn first opened the bedroom door, he told himself that he was doing his duty to his wife, but now that he was deep inside her, he felt entirely selfish as he sucked up every ounce of pleasure he could from taking his wife’s virginity.

It was sending him crazy.

   He looked down at his wife and saw that she was finally accepting of him.
She looked so pretty, with her eyes closed and face sighing with pleasure.
As he moved, Erna wriggled under him and clutched at his shoulders.
Her nails would did into his skin, sending pulses of pain that exacerbated the pleasure.

   Bjorn buried his face into Erna’s neck and started moving wildly.
The sound of his heavy breathing caught in Erna’s ear and she thought of some crazed beast.
Her body shook violently and it became difficult for her to keep hold of reality.

   Erna didn’t know what to do, the sensation was reaching unbearable levels and she didn’t know what to do with it.
Tears came again, she tried to hold them back, but the weight pushing against her waist felt like she was being crushed and she could barely catch a breath.

   The sound of their wet skin slapping against each other made Erna suddenly very self conscious.
It was a disgraceful sound and she could feel herself slip away from the situation, but only to be met by the intense feeling building in her groin.

   Bjorn no longer minded the crying.
He sat up and looked down at his wife.
Her face was a puffy red mess of tears and sweat, but she still looked so beautiful.
She breathed deeply in the momentary reprieve, making her chest heave and her bust stand up as two puffy mounds of soft flesh.

   Bjorn lifted her waist up to him.
She muffled a cry into a fist and smiled drunkenly.
It wasn’t just Erna’s skin that was soft and warm, but being inside her was also a soft, warm and wet mess of velvety pleasure.

   Holding her steady, Bjorn pumped into the deepest parts of her, which sent fresh pain wracking through her tiny body and she screamed out.
With one last thrust, Erna felt Bjorn grow even bigger inside her and a warmth spread up through her tummy.
Her body trembled and goosebumps prickled every inch of skin.

   Bjorn collapsed beside his wife and the room fell into silence.
Their heavy breathing was the only thing that could be heard over the sound of the crackling fire.

He stayed inside Erna for a while, wanting to hold onto the sensation of her soft, velvety inside.

   “A-Are you done now?” Erna asked

   “Yes,” Bjorn said lazily.

   With great effort, he moved his head to be next to Erna’s and while laid on the pillow, stretched out his lips to kiss her cheek.
He missed and kissed the side of her nose instead.

   It was a sweet lie.


“Your Highness, are you awake?” Came the soft, high pitched voice of Mrs Fitz

   Erna thought she was in a dream still, as the voice roused her from unconsciousness, to call it sleep felt like an understatement.
Fear crept across her face as she woke in an unfamiliar room and naked.

   “Yes,” Erna said quickly and sat up, pulling bedsheets over herself.
Doing so sent a shock of pain up her and she was reminded of last night.
“I’m awake.”

   As she pulled the bedsheets up, she saw the large blood stain that no longer looked like a flowering rose, but like someone was murdered in her bed.

   “Okay, I’m coming in.” Mrs Fitz said.

   “No!” Erna called out.

   She scrambled off the bed and tried to walk on shaky legs.
They buckled under her and she collapsed to the floor.

   “Are you okay, your highness, what happened?”

   “Its nothing, I’m fine.”

   Erna forced herself to her feet and gathered up the bloody sheets.
She looked around for some where to hide them and she saw on the clock that it was already noon.

   “Were you still asleep?”

   While Erna struggled to think of what to do, Mrs Fitz continued to knock on the door and pass words of concern through the thick wooden door.

   “I’m coming in, your highness.”

   Erna panicked and remembered the bathroom.
She bolted for it with bedsheets in tow and slammed the door closed, just as the bedroom door opened.

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