Dixie

 Dixie watched in fascination as her previously pale skin turned pink around where the needle had penetrated the skin, leaving ink in its wake. The brand of her own house sigil she had gotten as a teen didn’t hurt half as much. That was a luna moon, she couldn’t watch as that one was on the back of her neck. So this time she chose her thigh, and she wanted it large enough to be seen. Her small sculptured face would wrinkle at the forehead each time the artist dug the needle in. He had almost finished the large black cat in a gothic golden frame. The sigil of the house next door, ‘The House Of Black Cats’ was the one she was getting now. Dixie’s father, Lord Luna, had promised her to Lord Black’s son, Damon who was only 2 years older than her when she was twelve but he could not ‘wed her or bed her until she was twenty-one.’ That was the last time Dixie laid eyes on Damon before that, the pair were inseparable. Lord Black moved him away and said he would only return once she came of age. Dixie wept for weeks when he left. Now, it was the day before her twenty-first, the excitement built in her stomach, and yet she had no idea of the man he had become… ‘Was his hair still short, black and spiky? Did he still have freckles over his nose? Were his ears still pointed like a cat?’

“Someone is arriving over at the black house Miss Dixie,” said the handmaid, Emma. Dixie glared at her with irritation apparent contorting the angelic features of her face. “Ok, go running to my father, like usual,” she said, dismissing her with a wave of her hand before flicking her wrists at the artist shooing him away. She jumped up to the window but was too late, not a soul was out in the courtyard. Turning back, she collapsed on the sofa and allowed the artist to finish his work. Soft footsteps behind her head alerted her to Emma’s return. The old woman moved silently but every second step she did a little shuffle that Dixie had grown used to hearing. Emma had worked as Dixie’s mother’s handmaid for a year before she was born and Lord Luna enjoyed fucking her at the time so he made her Dixie’s handmaid. She still loves him, why? Dixie had no idea... ‘He is a tyrant. Holds me here, in this house for twenty-one years then just gives me in marriage to a boy I haven’t known since my youth.’

Once the artist had finished Dixie retired herself to her bedroom. She wanted to be far away from the tyrant, but the attic would have to do for now. The room was cold... ‘Emma must have left the window open, again. I wish I could have her whipped in the courtyard.’ She had also removed the black satin drape from the mirror. The silver net of the curtain blows back, and the light of the moon illuminates the petals scattered on the floor. A single white rose lay on the black heart pillow on the dark four-poster bed. The aroma was divine. A note lay under that said, “I hope you didn’t forget me.” Dixie’s heart flutters in her chest.

“Damon,” she said, smiling against the delicate petals of the rose and stepping closer to the window but nobody was out there. All she could see was the ocean. 

“Stay in your room Dixie. Everything you need will be brought for you,” her father said from the doorway of her bedroom. “Yes father,”  she replied, diverting her eyes back through the window. “I mean it, Dixie,” he said in his menacing voice... ‘Now I know he means business.’ He quickly strode inside the room and proceeded to grasp her chin hard, pulling it up so she had no choice but to look at him. Dixie had been unlucky and inherited the same eyes that bore into her skin right now. Golden amber colour and full of hate for the other. “Don’t you fuck this up for me,” he said before exiting with a slam of the door. 

As the doors slam, Dixie visibly relaxes before she hears the telltale shuffle from behind her. Turning on the spot, she stares at Emma as she cowers in the corner. “No need to annoy me until you are needed, my door will be locked until then.” She tries to splutter a response but Dixie raises her perfectly shaped eyebrows and she quickly seals her mouth shut and nods, keeping her eyes on the floor. “Have my bath ready in ten minutes,” Dixie said and watched as Emma ran to the door.

The room was spacious with a large bed, a desk, a large sofa, a full-length mirror and a built-in wardrobe. There were no flashy carpets or walls up here. Dixie had painted the whole room grey and kept it as just floorboards. Swinging the doors open to the wardrobe, she discovers more rose petals on the floor. A large garment bag was hung up inside the door. The label on the bag said. ‘Dixie Luna.’ Inside was a fluffy robe. The outside was white, the traditional colour for the virgin bride, but the inside was black. Dixie undressed quickly in full view of the undraped mirror. Her hair was long and the same silver-white as the moon. It hung in loose ringlets around her slender hips and firm pert ass. She traced a line with her fingers up her flat, toned torso and over her small supple breasts pushing her hair away. Her soft pink nipples had hardened like bullets from the chill of the open window, so she donned the robe. It felt heavy around her shoulders and so soft on her skin, sinking her hands into the deep pockets she pulled out a handful of pearls and a note. “White was always your colour, my Dixie chick.” Dixie smiled. “Well I haven’t been called that in a long time, I’ve changed a lot since then, are you still my Damon?” she asks to thin air.

 

“Miss Dixie, it’s time to get up,” Emma said, shaking her from the delicious dream she had been having of Damon kissing her neck. “Your stylist will be here in an hour.” Emma leaned in to shake her again. “Touch me again, I will break your wrist,” Dixie said through gritted teeth. Emma quickly stepped back from the bed and lowered her eyes. “Go, I can feed myself,” she said as she stretched her long slender legs. The breakfast Emma brought didn’t seem like much but Dixie ate it anyway. The mixture of sweet berries and apples was enough to fill her stomach. Sitting with her back to the door she stared out the window at the ocean completely ignoring the shouts from the cliffs. The floor creaks behind her head and she turns. “Oh, body pearls. I remember these from my wedding,” said a petite brunette as she strolled to the bed and picked up the pearls. Dixie raised her eyebrows in a look that said, “Who the hell are you?” The brunette smiles and holds out her hand to shake Dixie’s, “I’m Marie, your stylist.” Dixie lowered her brows and stood, completely ignoring the extended hand. “Let’s get this over with,” she said, taking the pearls from the woman’s hand.

Once she had dressed Dixie stood in front of the mirror. The pearls were uncomfortable and she pulled on the string that lay between the mounds of her butt cheeks. “Don’t pull the string you may break it, and that’s your husband’s job when he breaks your virginity and gives you his seed,” Marie said as she pulled the last curler from Dixie’s silver hair. The white lace dress hung to her knees from two little spaghetti straps over her shoulders. You could see the body pearls beneath as it bulges around her torso and up over her breasts and down between her legs. He had also given her a pearl headdress that Marie placed on her head pinning her hair in places. Her complexion was one of a blushing bride but Dixie knew that was the make-up. 

A white pumpkin style carriage parks up outside the front doors with Lord Luna already waiting inside. It sets off the moment Dixie carefully sits down, Lord Luna smiles over at her. “It is a good day,” he said. Dixie wrinkled her face, ‘Drop dead.’ she thought. Lord Luna narrows his eyes. “After today you will be someone else’s problem,” he smiled again. Dixie ignored his comment and closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of the ocean from below the cliffs to which they were heading. As the carriage stops Dixie opens her eyes and inhales one last time, this time however the ocean was overpowered by the divine fragrance of roses that were everywhere. The aisle was a white silk cloth with petals down the middle, and white chairs ran down each side with a bouquet of roses on the back of each one. All of the male guests were on the right dressed in black and all the female guests that had been given their wings sat to the left in red. Dixie could see their wings, most had chosen to have them on their neck so they could be seen, Dixie had planned to ask Damon for hers the first chance she could. She was desperate to leave the house and that was the only way she could. Even in marriage, a woman is not free until her husband says so. 

Lord Luna stepped out first and held out his hand to help Dixie from the carriage, she took it but only because she knew she had to. She smiled at the guests as they stood to witness them walking down the aisle, her heart fluttering in her chest as the bed on the altar caught her eye. Large wooden four-poster much like her own, only this one was white, the wood, the curtains, the petals, the pillows, all of it. An old silver-haired priest dressed in gold stood at the foot of the bed and smiled. “Who gives this woman?” he said in a sharp, loud voice. Lord Luna stepped forward. “I do,” he said quite happily. “And who receives this woman,” the priest said as Damon stepped from the shadows. “I do,” he said, his voice husky but loud enough for everyone to hear. He takes her offered hand and turns her so she could look at him.

His face was pleasing to the eye, his big blue eyes still looked kind and his complexion matched Dixie’s. Although she could see the devilish spark behind his smile, his hair was still short but slicked back on his head. Dixie smiled when she saw his pointed ears, like a cat. He still looked like her Damon she thought as the priest droned on. He had dressed in all black the traditional colour for grooms. His skin was soft as his thumb stroked the back of her hand. “Do you young lady take his man as your husband and keeper?” the priest asked and she nodded before replying, “I do.'' The priest stepped aside with his hand outstretched as if to show the bed for the first time. “Please take what is your’s, Lord Luna-Cat,” he said and Dixie furrowed her brow… ‘Lord Luna-Cat?’ Damon stepped forward and started to undress down to a pair of black shorts. He was slender but muscular and had branded himself three times, one on his left forearm that had the number 9. A luna moon over his heart and a large black cat on his back with a luna moon behind it. 

“Luna-Cat,” she said under her breath. And the echoes of a conversation the pair had long ago came back to her at that moment. 

“When I marry I want to keep the name Luna,” she had said.

“Why? It belongs to your father,” Damon replied.

“I want to keep it because it was my mother’s name. It doesn’t belong to him. He is the reason she is dead. He was just a stable boy before my mother married him.”

“I promise if I get to marry you, you will keep your name.”

Damon held out his hand to Dixie and smiled. Her returning smile was wider as she stepped forward. Lord Black and Lord Luna untied the curtains on the bed and drew them. Damon picked her up in a cradle and walked to the side placing her in the middle of the semi-private bed. He unzipped her dress and Dixie shuffled on the bed to help take it off. As she moved the purls that lay against her sex pinched and rolled over her clit, sending pleasurable warmth coursing through her veins. Moving his hand to her swollen breast and rolled the pearls over her nipples and his mouth moved down to her neck. He kissed her sweetly and licked her skin, his tongue was rough but Dixie didn’t mind, she found it as a mix, pleasure and pain all rolled into one. 

Damon knelt up and proceeded to remove his shorts, releasing his hard throbbing cock. Dixie’s eyes widened, this was the first time she had seen one, it was long and thick, with blue-purple veins and a pink and prominent tip. She laid back on the bed and closed her eyes as Damon came close to her ear, “this will only hurt for a minute but I want you to scream loud for everyone to hear.” His voice was a deep whisper so only she could hear. Dixie nodded and opened her legs for him to position himself between them. His nimble fingers tweaked her nipple as he pushed himself deep inside her. 

“AAHHHH,” she cried, feeling the pain, her nails scraping down his back. She could hear the guests clapping and cheering. Damon pumped himself inside her a few more times and she cried out again. “AAHHH,” but then it turned to more of a pleasure moan. “OOhhhhh.” The pain had subsided or mashed together with the white-hot spikes of pleasure that coursed through her veins. Her hands skated over his body feeling his strength in his shoulders. He kissed her deeply and with passion as he pulled out to the tip. His hand moved down to her clit and he stroked the pearls so they rolled over it. “Ahhhh,” Dixie moaned into his open mouth. Moving her hands down to feel the steel mounds of his ass. Then he slammed into her again, pushing the tip of his penis up to what felt like her belly button. She rolled her hips against him, pulling his hips to hers. His teeth dug into her neck, “do that again,” he said softly. So she did and he threw his head back with satisfaction.

Dixie rolled her hips to meet every thrust. His hand slipped around her neck but when her eyes widened he let go, the moment he did, her neck longed for it to be back there and she regretted her moment of weakness. She watched as sweat trickled down between his chiselled abs as his nails clawed into her shoulder. Her body began to twitch of its own accord and she clenched herself together as pleasure resonated through her screaming to burst. “Let go,” Damon said as he broke the string and pearls scattered over the bed causing them to cascade down onto the stone floor. She did as he said and let go of the clinch that was ready to burst and whispered his name as her body quivered around him. He kissed her neck sweetly, then her lips before pulling out so he could lay beside her. 

“Damon,” she said after the guests had finished their applause and dissipated back to the house. She rolled to her side and lay her hands under her head. “Mmm,” he said, rising onto his elbows with a smile. Dixie took a steadying breath. “I know it’s not traditional for the bride to ask…” she said before he placed a finger over her mouth to stop her. Damon smiles wide and chuckles. “You can have as many wings as you like, in any colour you like, My Dixie Chick,” he said, answering her unspoken question.