Broken - Part 4little_elfieJuly 4 2011, 21:26:47 UTC
Thank you! Sorry for the delay - most of my time and energy has been taken up by my friends and family recently but here is an update especially for you!
Esmeralda's heart was pounding so hard that, for a moment, it threatened to burs from her chest. She kicked off her shoes in the darkened hallway of the Palace of Justice before sprinting up the staircase with her skirts hoisted high above her ankles. Her breathing was laboured and she paused at the top, clinging to the oak banister in an attempt to calm herself and collect her thoughts.
There was no way that her husband could have travelled all the way to Avignon, attending the King's meeting and travelled back to Paris within the space of eight hours...it was not humanly possible!
The gypsy girl cursed under her breath as the unmistakable scent of her lover's spunk reached her nostrils - why hadn't she had the sense to clean herself before leaving Phoebus's cottage?
She made her to the bedroom she shared with Frollo, peering around the door to ensure that he was not already inside waiting for her. A night-stand with a basin and jug atop it stood on the opposite wall and, pulling her dress up around her waist, she hurried across the room with the intention of washing away the evidence of her adultery.
Unfortunately, at that moment the door creaked open behind her and, dropping her skirts, the startled gypsy girl leapt back, her green eyes wide with fright as Frollo entered the room. He smirked at the sight of her and held out his arms in greeting.
"Happy anniversary, my love!"
Esmeralda forced herself to smile as she went to him and placed a dutiful kiss on his cheek. He embraced her and returned the gesture before releasing her. She swallowed and clenched her fists behind her back, voice wavering as she questioned him, "Wh-what are you doing home so early? I wasn't expecting you back for at least four days."
Frollo reached out to run his fingers through her unruly curls, "We were met on the road by the King's envoy - the meeting has been postponed indefinitely. But enough of that...I want you now..."
The Minister swept her into his arms and carried her the few feet from the doorway to the bed before gently laying her down on the silk sheets. He then pulled away and began to undress, his eyes gleaming with lust and anticipation. Esmeralda's stomach churned as she watched him and eventually she closed her eyes, silently praying that he would not notice Phoebus's seed drying on her inner thighs. Her mind raced as she tried to think of an a way to delay the inevitable but one look at Frollo's face ensured her that any excuse she came up with would not stop him. He was practically drooling with excitement...
He kicked his discarded clothes aside and mounted the bed. His cock was so hard - it seemed to grow and pulsate before the horrified gypsy's very eyes as he positioned himself over her and pressed the tip of it against her opening.
Relief overwhelmed Esmeralda, the last vestiges of fear draining away as her husband's erection nudged insistently against her thigh and pussy - he was too caught up in the moment to notice the tell-tale signs of her infidelity...
She going to get away with it...everything was going to be fine...
Suddenly, Frollo's voice rang out above her head, low and ragged with a strange mixture of desire, confusion and rage...
Re: Broken - Part 4afterandalasiaJuly 16 2011, 15:38:50 UTC
{Oh wow, late comment.) But the tension of this! I love it! And Frollo being so Frollo -- obsessed with Esmeralda, but there's that undercurrent of relationship there as well. God, I love this fill!
Broken - Part 5little_elfieJanuary 28 2012, 03:22:37 UTC
Dawn in Paris.
Roused by a familiar cacophony as the Palace of Justice stirred and roared to life around her, Esmeralda awoke to find herself on the floor, shivering and stiff-limbed. She opened her eyes, blinking owlishly at the brightness of the day, and stretched, only to yelp in pained surprise as her entire body seemed to scream in protest.
A few tense moments passed before the young woman could bring herself to move, uncurling her limbs with deliberate caution; she winced and gnawed at her lip, stifling a cry of dismay as the extent of her injuries became apparent. Bruises mottled the exposed planes of her torso, fresh and numerous, in livid shades of purple and yellow. Her wrists were chafed and raw, her breasts...oh!
Memories of the previous evening, disjointed and hazy, flickered though Esmeralda's mind...Frollo looming above her, his face twisted into a demon's mask...his hands around her throat...she was dying, her last thoughts of her family and friends...of Phoebus, waiting for her in his cottage by the river...
"Phoebus!"
The word - sacred, illustrious, the name of a God - died on Esmeralda's bloodied lips. Heart pounding, she lurched to her feet, the sting of her wounds rendered dull by apprehension and despair. Her red-rimmed eyes darted around the room and she started forward, fully intending to throw herself from the window; such a death, by her own hand, was imminently preferable to a life without her beloved soldier. She climbed onto the broad sill, relishing the cool marble beneath her feet, and stared down, trying to imagine herself as a crimson stain on the cobbles below...
"I think not!"
Sinewy arms clasped Esmeralda's waist, dragging her back as she spat and struggled like a wildcat. The Minister chuckled grimly, his grip tightening around her flayed wrists. The gypsy fell to her knees, writhing in agony at her husband's feet.
"Witchcraft, adultery and suicide...a true disciple of Satan," Frollo's lips thinned in a grim mockery of a smile as he caressed his wife's quivering shoulders, digging his fingernails into her tender flesh, "Rest assured, I will see you reunited with your dark master...but you must suffer first, my love. Oh yes, you will beg for the torments of the fiery pit before this day is out."
Re: Broken - Part 5dmillacwJanuary 29 2012, 04:06:27 UTC
*shudders* (in a good way). I love how Frollo can cause such a chill down my spine. You know the characters well, your writing is superb. And Esmeralda really should've bathe before she got home.
Though I do wonder what Frollo has up his sadistic sleeves when getting his revenge? Hmm...
Broken - Part 6little_elfieFebruary 6 2012, 00:14:33 UTC
The afternoon passed in a blur of fear and pain for Esmeralda. Dressed in the ragged shift of a condemned soul, she waited for what seemed like an eternity, blowing on her fingers in a desperate attempt to fend off the cold. When Frollo finally reappeared, she kept her angry gaze fixed on the flagstones at his feet, determined not to provoke him into further violence...his temper was unpredictable at the best of times. The gypsy hissed through her teeth as he propelled her forward roughly; she caught her lip between her teeth as the raw wounds on her back opened at his touch and began to bleed anew.
A seemingly endless descent into the cold bowels of the dungeon until at last, smirking at his wife's obvious distress, the Minister caught Esmeralda by the wrist again and jerked her to an abrupt halt before a heavy wooden door. She twisted in his grasp, tossing her head like an agitated filly as he produced an ornate key from the folds of his robe and unlocked the door, sweeping her into the darkness beyond. Once her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, Esmeralda felt her heart sink as she realised what lay before her; a trapdoor built into the floor. As a child she had been terrified by Clopin's tales of the dreaded oubliette, where unfortunates were left to starve or be eaten by rats...
No!
Esmeralda swallowed, choking back a scream of horror as Frollo kicked open the hatch and pointed into the shadows below. She inched forward to peer over his shoulder, quivering as a blast of icy air drifted up from the depths...and an anguished cry echoed around her, carried by this unnatural breeze. A man's voice, cracked and hoarse with suffering...
"Phoebus!"
She clutched at her throat in despair, stumbling away from the hellish pit and the pain of the man she loved. Frollo nodded in grim satisfaction, his sharp fingers hooked into the flesh of her forearm as she shook her head numbly, as if trying to deflect his malicious words.
"Your whore-master awaits you, my love, bloodied and broken. Just as he should be. I had his hands crushed this morning...oh yes, the same filthy hands that dared to touch you, to cup your breasts and caress your bare skin. He will never grip the hilt of a sword again, your pretty soldier. Such a pity."
Esmeralda's stomach turned as she thought of Phoebus's hands - strong, callused, gentle - being pulverised in a cruel vice. Hot tears sprang to her eyes and she reached up to brush them away, her voice husky with emotion as she forced herself to speak, "Can I see him? Please."
"Hmm, I believe they should be starting work on his lower body now but no matter. You can watch."
Esmeralda's heart was pounding so hard that, for a moment, it threatened to burs from her chest. She kicked off her shoes in the darkened hallway of the Palace of Justice before sprinting up the staircase with her skirts hoisted high above her ankles. Her breathing was laboured and she paused at the top, clinging to the oak banister in an attempt to calm herself and collect her thoughts.
There was no way that her husband could have travelled all the way to Avignon, attending the King's meeting and travelled back to Paris within the space of eight hours...it was not humanly possible!
The gypsy girl cursed under her breath as the unmistakable scent of her lover's spunk reached her nostrils - why hadn't she had the sense to clean herself before leaving Phoebus's cottage?
She made her to the bedroom she shared with Frollo, peering around the door to ensure that he was not already inside waiting for her. A night-stand with a basin and jug atop it stood on the opposite wall and, pulling her dress up around her waist, she hurried across the room with the intention of washing away the evidence of her adultery.
Unfortunately, at that moment the door creaked open behind her and, dropping her skirts, the startled gypsy girl leapt back, her green eyes wide with fright as Frollo entered the room. He smirked at the sight of her and held out his arms in greeting.
"Happy anniversary, my love!"
Esmeralda forced herself to smile as she went to him and placed a dutiful kiss on his cheek. He embraced her and returned the gesture before releasing her. She swallowed and clenched her fists behind her back, voice wavering as she questioned him, "Wh-what are you doing home so early? I wasn't expecting you back for at least four days."
Frollo reached out to run his fingers through her unruly curls, "We were met on the road by the King's envoy - the meeting has been postponed indefinitely. But enough of that...I want you now..."
The Minister swept her into his arms and carried her the few feet from the doorway to the bed before gently laying her down on the silk sheets. He then pulled away and began to undress, his eyes gleaming with lust and anticipation. Esmeralda's stomach churned as she watched him and eventually she closed her eyes, silently praying that he would not notice Phoebus's seed drying on her inner thighs. Her mind raced as she tried to think of an a way to delay the inevitable but one look at Frollo's face ensured her that any excuse she came up with would not stop him. He was practically drooling with excitement...
He kicked his discarded clothes aside and mounted the bed. His cock was so hard - it seemed to grow and pulsate before the horrified gypsy's very eyes as he positioned himself over her and pressed the tip of it against her opening.
Relief overwhelmed Esmeralda, the last vestiges of fear draining away as her husband's erection nudged insistently against her thigh and pussy - he was too caught up in the moment to notice the tell-tale signs of her infidelity...
She going to get away with it...everything was going to be fine...
Suddenly, Frollo's voice rang out above her head, low and ragged with a strange mixture of desire, confusion and rage...
"Filthy whore!"
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Roused by a familiar cacophony as the Palace of Justice stirred and roared to life around her, Esmeralda awoke to find herself on the floor, shivering and stiff-limbed. She opened her eyes, blinking owlishly at the brightness of the day, and stretched, only to yelp in pained surprise as her entire body seemed to scream in protest.
A few tense moments passed before the young woman could bring herself to move, uncurling her limbs with deliberate caution; she winced and gnawed at her lip, stifling a cry of dismay as the extent of her injuries became apparent. Bruises mottled the exposed planes of her torso, fresh and numerous, in livid shades of purple and yellow. Her wrists were chafed and raw, her breasts...oh!
Memories of the previous evening, disjointed and hazy, flickered though Esmeralda's mind...Frollo looming above her, his face twisted into a demon's mask...his hands around her throat...she was dying, her last thoughts of her family and friends...of Phoebus, waiting for her in his cottage by the river...
"Phoebus!"
The word - sacred, illustrious, the name of a God - died on Esmeralda's bloodied lips. Heart pounding, she lurched to her feet, the sting of her wounds rendered dull by apprehension and despair. Her red-rimmed eyes darted around the room and she started forward, fully intending to throw herself from the window; such a death, by her own hand, was imminently preferable to a life without her beloved soldier. She climbed onto the broad sill, relishing the cool marble beneath her feet, and stared down, trying to imagine herself as a crimson stain on the cobbles below...
"I think not!"
Sinewy arms clasped Esmeralda's waist, dragging her back as she spat and struggled like a wildcat. The Minister chuckled grimly, his grip tightening around her flayed wrists. The gypsy fell to her knees, writhing in agony at her husband's feet.
"Witchcraft, adultery and suicide...a true disciple of Satan," Frollo's lips thinned in a grim mockery of a smile as he caressed his wife's quivering shoulders, digging his fingernails into her tender flesh, "Rest assured, I will see you reunited with your dark master...but you must suffer first, my love. Oh yes, you will beg for the torments of the fiery pit before this day is out."
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Though I do wonder what Frollo has up his sadistic sleeves when getting his revenge? Hmm...
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I'm SO happy you didn't forget this fic ^______^
Can't wait for chapter 6!
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A seemingly endless descent into the cold bowels of the dungeon until at last, smirking at his wife's obvious distress, the Minister caught Esmeralda by the wrist again and jerked her to an abrupt halt before a heavy wooden door. She twisted in his grasp, tossing her head like an agitated filly as he produced an ornate key from the folds of his robe and unlocked the door, sweeping her into the darkness beyond. Once her eyes had adjusted to the gloom, Esmeralda felt her heart sink as she realised what lay before her; a trapdoor built into the floor. As a child she had been terrified by Clopin's tales of the dreaded oubliette, where unfortunates were left to starve or be eaten by rats...
No!
Esmeralda swallowed, choking back a scream of horror as Frollo kicked open the hatch and pointed into the shadows below. She inched forward to peer over his shoulder, quivering as a blast of icy air drifted up from the depths...and an anguished cry echoed around her, carried by this unnatural breeze. A man's voice, cracked and hoarse with suffering...
"Phoebus!"
She clutched at her throat in despair, stumbling away from the hellish pit and the pain of the man she loved. Frollo nodded in grim satisfaction, his sharp fingers hooked into the flesh of her forearm as she shook her head numbly, as if trying to deflect his malicious words.
"Your whore-master awaits you, my love, bloodied and broken. Just as he should be. I had his hands crushed this morning...oh yes, the same filthy hands that dared to touch you, to cup your breasts and caress your bare skin. He will never grip the hilt of a sword again, your pretty soldier. Such a pity."
Esmeralda's stomach turned as she thought of Phoebus's hands - strong, callused, gentle - being pulverised in a cruel vice. Hot tears sprang to her eyes and she reached up to brush them away, her voice husky with emotion as she forced herself to speak, "Can I see him? Please."
"Hmm, I believe they should be starting work on his lower body now but no matter. You can watch."
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But I'm happy that part 6 was there so fast
and I'm looking forward to part 7 ^_____^
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