1. A painter’s apprentice chapters 1 and 2 (more to come)


    Date: 7/28/2017, Categories: Fiction, First Time, Lesbian, Reluctance, Romance, Author: Artemis108, Rating: 58.3, Source: sexstories.com

    virtuous, little milkmaid!” Lecretia dreaded returning home with the empty milk jug, but what she saw froze her where she stood. Marco Santacelli was seated facing Jacopo, and from what she could tell they’d been discussing a serious matter. When their eyes fell on her she scurried out of the room. “How old is she?” Marco asked “fifteen,” “Has she bled yet?” “yes.” She listened in a cold panic. Suddenly Filippa’s words ran through her head; “He’ll take a rich girl,” and they gave her some comfort. “Was her mother healthy? Was she fertile?” “She was at first very fertile. She became pregnant within two weeks of marriage. She was very healthy too. She developed fits from the falling sickness, but that was all my doing. I swear she didn’t pass on any bad blood to Lecretia. You see, I had hoped so much for a son. I had waited all those months. When I was handed a daughter it so angered me. I pushed her mother down the stairs. I hadn’t meant to knock her down a whole flight, but I didn’t know my own strength. She hit her temple and was out cold for the rest of the day. That’s when the fits started. It was caused by the fall. Before that she had been healthy.” Lecretia had never been told this and it turned her stomach. To her further horror, Marco gave a snort of amusement. “I always say women are to be used like chamber pots! Hidden away once a man has pissed in them!” They both erupted into roaring laughter. “Whenever her mother she had a fit, she had a miscarriage. I took ...
    her to the priest because that lying old jackass said he could cure her falling sickness. I took her to mass every Sunday! Really all I wanted was a son.” “very well! Where is she?” They found her huddled on the floor where she’d sat listening. “Lecretia,” said Jacopo bending over. “Marco santacelli has asked for your hand in marriage.” She stared numbly. “I don’t need a rich girl,” said Marco. “I’ve been watching you for a while at the market, and you’ve caught my eye. I’ve married and buried several well-connected girls. Two died in childbirth, and one died of a fever. I’ve made enough alliances for the time being. I have plenty of money and a rich man should have a pretty wife. I don’t need a large dowry. “ “From now on,” brayed Jacopo, “It will be nothing but silver, gold and pearls for you, little milkmaid! Feather beds! Crystal glasses! Ambergris! And a house fit to entertain the Medici!” “Now Jacopo, if you don’t mind I’d like to get a look at her.” At those words, Jacopo left them alone together. Marco studied her appraisingly. She looked at him furtively. He was twice her age, His teeth were yellowed with a blackened crust in the gaps. An enormous hairy gut spilled over the top of his trousers, which he never bothered to cover with his shirt. She couldn’t help but feel repulsed. At last he spoke. “You’re very pretty, Lecretia.” He began to tug at her clothes, loosening her dress. She tried to pull away, but he held her still. He ignored her whimpers and continued to ...
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