WARNING: SMUT. Also, note that the main character is an OC. This is NOT Jade’s story.
Story inspired by Season 1 of AMC’s “Into the Badlands”
CHAPTER 6: RESIN SEEPS IN
Crossing the threshold, my Baron thrust me against the wall, hoisting up the skirt of my dress to dig his fingers tight into my thighs. Behind him, I heard the House Cogs and nearby Clippers scamper and slink off, leaving the room silent but for my heavy breaths and the growl in my Baron’s chest. I tore rabidly at his coat, ripping it off his shoulders and throwing it across the room.
How I had missed his tenacity. I had never had someone want me so completely, not just in body, but in mind and soul. When we were together, I was compelled to completely forget about intentions and schemes. Long gone were thoughts that this was any more than a man and a woman loving each other in a war torn world.
As he ran his fingers gently through my hair, I relished in his touch, melting into his arms. Suddenly, I cried out as he grabbed the hair at the nape of my neck and yanked back, baring my neck to an onslaught of kisses and bites. I winced as my Baron’s teeth nipped at the sensitive skin beneath my ear. He let go of my hair, letting me kiss his lips passionately, trailing across his cheek, to his ear, and down his neck, stopping to bite his ear. He hummed in pleasure, feeling my hands over his throbbing cock. I unbuckled his belt, whipping it from the loops, never letting my lips leave his neck. I sank down against the wall, pulling his trousers with me as I went. Using the belt wrapped around his hips, I pulled my Baron into my mouth, causing him to brace against the wall. I licked up and down the shaft of his cock, pausing to suck on the head. He twitched and I grinned as his breathing grew heavier, releasing into moans and growls. Slowly, with my lips wrapped around him making a seal, I pulled him into me and down my open throat. I held him there, letting my throat muscles contract and twitch around him. He gasped as I released and pushed his hips back. I started to pump him in and out, allowing him to grab my hair and push further into me. I felt his cock throb and grow as he steadily approached climax. The veins in his shaft pulsed between my lips. Taking the belt in one hand, I freed my other to reach down and massage my clit. My middle and ring finger made circles and pushed furiously into the sensitive area on and around my clit, so that I matched my Baron’s ferocity.
Just before he released his seed, he backed out of my mouth and pulled my face to meet his, kissing me passionately. “Now, woman. I’ve been gone a long time and, now that we’ve gotten the excitement out of the way, I need to show you just how much I’ve missed you.” He stepped back and took my hand, leading me over to the massive staircase. Using my hand to guide me, my Baron directed me to sit on the stairs and gently pushed me back, kissing my lips as he lifted my skirt to my hips. He gingerly inserted the head of his cock into the swollen, dripping lips of my labia, checking my face for any sign of discomfort. Slowly, he penetrated deeper, encouraging my body to envelope him completely.
“Are you alright? I’ve been gone a long time, and I don’t intend to hurt you on my first evening home.”
I nodded, breathlessly, “Yes, Baron.”
He paused and smiled, “Please. You’re my bride. I don’t own you anymore. Call me Quinn.”
I knew it wasn’t true. He would always own me. But for now, I let myself believe the lie for just a bit longer and relished the love my Baron made.
Over a breakfast of pleasantries and small talk, my Baron… Quinn… suggested that we ride through the territory. After donning my riding gown, I instructed Sunny to put together an escort and made my way down to the stables.
The stables were to the other side of the Clipper barracks from the main house, as they used the horses more than the House did. Walking through the barracks had whole new meaning for me now. These men who once abused their power and authority over my body were now sworn to lay their lives down in my name. No longer did I need to slink in between the buildings, slipping out of the Fort and, temporarily, out of their reach. Now, I strode freely through the main tree covered boulevard, not to jeers and catcalls, but to nods of respect.
But their fealty wasn’t to me and it certainly wasn’t a loyalty of love but one of fear and necessity toward a man who was once the most feared Clipper in all of the Badlands. I was privy to a sight that most of them only dreamed of: their Baron’s skin. Across it spread the blood of countless lives taken by his hand. Hundreds of cross hatches in thick black ink to remind anyone who saw them that a Clipper’s sword is merciless. Your life for theirs. I shuddered at the thought that these men whose strike I once cowed from in these very barracks now had stripes on their backs from my defense. In those weeks of my recovery, the Clippers and their Baron clipped hundreds of the Widow’s Butterflies. Hundreds of women laid to rest at my expense. Though my skin was clean but for the Armadillo branding on my hand, I felt every single one of those souls slash across my back, weighing my shoulders down with the burden of death.
Quinn grinned as I approached the stables, meeting me at the boulevard with a Cog leading two fine quarter horses. No Clippers had joined us as of yet, so I asked the Cog how long it would be til they arrived. Before he could answer, Quinn took my hand and quipped, “Woman, have you forgotten who I am these past weeks? I am all the protection you need.”
“Of course.” I smiled gently, hiding my apprehension as best I could.
Quinn hoisted me up onto the horse, easily 15 hands high, and within moments, we were strolling back through the barracks, framed by Clippers saluting their Baron with a closed fist to their hearts, across the large lawn that sprawled in front of the manor, and out the front gates between the poppy fields being tended by the Cogs for the next season. This wasn’t just a leisurely ride. Quinn was parading me across his territory for everyone to see. For my former equals to see. This parade was a display of power. To remind everyone of who he was. To remind me of who I had been and who I had become. The Cogs in between the endless rows of now wilting poppies all looked up at me, one by one. Some with hope in their dirty faces. My having been chosen gave them permission to daydream about the day that they might one day escape. Behind my smiling eyes, I begged for them to understand that there was no escape. I wasn’t free. No one was. Some looked at me with disdain while others turned their backs to me as I passed. I didn’t blame them, but it saddened me all the same. I had been one of them once, but by some freakish chance, I had been plucked from the dirt, washed, and now was being presented on a silver platter gleaming in the afternoon sun. I didn’t belong anywhere anymore. I wasn’t a Cog, but neither was I of the barony. No matter how many books I read or how much I practiced my etiquette, I would never be a real Baroness, but to these people, I was a part of the aristocracy that kept them enslaved with empty authority.
Past the poppy fields, the forest beckoned us with its leaves of red, orange, and yellow. Little glints of green peaked through, shrinking daily under the unforgiving fire of the still hot Southern sun. We veered off of the main road and started through the trees along a well worn path. Stripes of sunlight streamed through, kissing the horse’s mane and coat as we passed under. I gave him a pat on the side of his neck, and felt that familiar sensation of being watched. I looked up to find Quinn smiling at me like a boy in love. I smiled back and he caught himself.
“Have you been riding in my absence?”
I blushed and told him I had been. While he had been gone, I had been learning from the Stable Cogs the basics and had become a pretty accomplished rider by this point.
“Fine. Then you’ll be able to keep up. HYAH!”
And with that, he was off, racing further into the trees and around the path’s bend. Side saddle, I dug my heel into my horse’s haunch and we gave chase. Being under a lighter load, my horse caught up easily. We galloped together along the path, ducking under low hanging limbs and weaving back and forth as the path wound it’s way through the forest until we came up to a large white house. It’s porch wrapped all the way around and beckoned us to its shade with wicker chairs and wooden rockers. The door opened as we slowed to a stop at the base of the stairs revealing an older couple who seemed to greet us as though they were expecting our arrival.
“Good morning, Baron! Care for a glass of lemonade? I just put some biscuits in the oven. They should be out soon.” The old woman smiled warmly, greeting Quinn with an embrace. She turned to me and took my hands like we were old friends. “This must be your new bride. My how lovely! How have you been adjusting? Well I hope? You seem to have recovered quite well since the attack! Our Veil did a fine job….”
“Now Hannah, leave the poor girl alone! Why don’t you go check on those biscuits? They’re startin’ to smell mighty fine.” The old man kissed her forehead and ushered her inside with a smile. They had an ease with Quinn that I had never seen in anyone else. It was almost as if they were family.
He turned his attention to Quinn and smiled, taking his hand. “Good morning, Baron! How are you on this beautiful morning?”
“Fine, fine! I thought I might have you take a look at your daughter’s handiwork and give us the final verdict.”
“Of course! I’m sure she did fine, but we’ll take a look.” The old man smiled at me and motioned for me to walk into the house. I turned back to Quinn apprehensively to which he smiled and grasped my hand.
“You’re in good hands, my love. Vernon has been the personal doctor to me and my family for years. They raised Veil and taught her everything she knows. If you trust her, you can trust them.”
I nodded and followed Vernon’s direction into the house, turning into a small room that was outfitted with medical equipment and an examining table. He motioned toward the table as he turned to grab a pair of gloves and a tool that looked like a duck’s bill.
“Undress from your hips down and hop up on that table for me, would you?”
I stopped in my tracks, unsure if I had just heard the doctor correctly.
He turned to look at my astonished face and laughed, “You’re fine, girl! I just need to do a check up and make sure everything is working alright. I’ll meet you over there in a minute. Go on!”
I hesitantly lifted my skirt and pulled down my knickers, placing them on the chair by the door. I sat on the table, feet dangling off the end and waited impatiently for this to be over. Vernon sat down in the stool in front of me, and pulled out two metal armatures with stirrups on the ends from either side of the table.
“Now, lie back for me, put your feet up in these stirrups. Good girl. Now scoot down towards me so I can get a better view. Ah there we go! Ok, now this might be a bit uncomfortable. Sorry about that.”
I jumped a bit as I felt the cold metal duck bill being inserted in and opened to spread my vagina as wide as it could go. The doctor then reached his gloved fingers in and pressed against the walls, periodically asking if this hurt, or this, how about this? After he was satisfied, he pulled the clamp out, and stripped the gloves from his hands.
“That’s it, hun! All done! Why don’t you get dressed and then we’ll join the Baron and the missus out on the porch? Hm?”
I hurriedly pulled my undergarments back on and brushed down my skirt as the doctor opened the door and ushered me out towards the front porch.
Sitting in one of the grand rockers sipping on a glass of lemonade, Quinn smiled up at us lazily in the warming humid air.
“Well, Vernon? How did Veil do?”
“Fine! Fine, Baron! Your bride is as good as new. She’ll be fine to carry anytime.”
Quinn stood, smiling broadly. “Well that’s fine news! I was so afraid for you, my dear. We wouldn’t want you to be denied the gift of motherhood on account of a misguided sword, now would we?”
As we bid our farewells and mounted our horses, the fog lifted and suddenly I understood. Why else would he have picked a girl from the fields? One of child bearing age. One that was healthy and worked hard. One that he knew was favored among his Clippers. One that he already owned. Why else would he bring me in to his home, clean me up, feed me well? Why else would he go to war over my being stabbed?
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