Breaking Her “Purity Girdle”

There’s a rather erotic scene at the beginning of Aishling Morgan’s book Captive where our heroine is relieved of her chastity belt (and shortly afterward, of her virginity) by a lusty warrior. Notwithstanding her socially-mandated ritual struggles, it’s clear she’s very much an advocate for the success of the proceedings:

The invader gave a thoroughly human roar of lust at the sight of her naked breasts as he jumped into the room, and any illusion as to what was happening was dashed from her mind. Seizing a pair of scissors from her dresser as the man’s hand closed on her other arm, she stabbed at his chest with all her force, deliberately aiming for what she judged to be the strongest part of his armour. The scissors broke and she was being drawn into his body, taken in metal clad arms, pushed back towards the bed. He held her tight as he struggled to shake off his clawed gloves in defiance of her writhing, squirming body. For a moment she beat her fists on his chest, thought better of the futile effort and reached for a weapon. Her hand found the neck of a vase and she brought it down on his helmet, scattering flower petals, water and shards of pottery across the room. The man took no notice whatever, shook off his second glove and pushed her hard back onto the bed.

Elethrine went down, feeling a pointless flush of embarrassment as her breasts bounced and wobbled to the shock of landing. Her ankles were seized, held hard in one huge hand as her legs were lifted and her skirts and petticoats fell away, exposing the seat of her drawers. Most of her weight was in his hand and she could do nothing, only beat her fists on the bed and yell out the ritual insults to his manhood. He ignored her, pushed a hand between her thighs and tore open the slit of her drawers, exposing the lock of her purity girdle. Pulling his sword free, he jammed the end into the keyhole and twisted, only to curse as the sword tip snapped.

‘Try the one over the fireplace, it’s Dwarven,’ Elethrine said quickly.

The man gave a grunt that might have been thanks and lifted Elethrine bodily by her legs. Her skirts fell over her head and she was forced to take her weight on her hands, leaving her helpless and struggling upside down, knowing that her thighs showed. The man grunted and Elethrine felt a pressure on her lower belly as the sword point was pushed into the lock of her purity girdle. A snap sounded and the man laughed as the girdle became suddenly loose. Elethrine found herself choking at the sheer power of emotion that came with the bursting of her purity girdle.

He released one ankle, making her squeak as he wrenched the girdle free, to leave only the flimsy ruffles of her pantalettes between him and her sex. Then those were gone, torn away to leave her nude tuppenny gaping to his gaze, open for him, for his fingers, for his cock. Dangled upside-down, she felt totally, completely helpless, exposed for his use in an utterly undignified pose, nothing concealed, breasts bare, bottom and tuppenny showing in a froth of torn lace. She began to kick her free leg in a futile display of resistance, only to have his hand close on it and haul her thighs wide.

Elethrine’s breath was coming in deep, ragged pants as her open tuppenny was inspected for virginity. Burning shame filled her head at the blatant intimacy of the act…

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