Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep - Being revamped!

Chapter 3: The End of Innocence


Weeks passed and Samri’s days became routine. She would find a servant hovering over in the morning, a tray of delicious food waiting. In many ways, she was the “lady” of the manor, yet she could never forget that the guards who stood so silently about the palace were there not only to protect the inhabitants, but to keep her from leaving.

They did not wear the white armor of the troopers who had destroyed her village, but they seemed inhuman nonetheless. Their eyes were cold and distant, never meeting hers, even when they gave her an order.

The girl became friends with the cook, who let her try her hand in the well-appointed kitchen. It was a way to pass the time and fill the boring hours. The cook, an older human female named Lira, welcomed the young woman gladly. Lira was happy to share what she knew of the mysterious Lord Vader with Samri, though it wasn’t much.

“I’ve heard he was once a Jedi,” Lira whispered as they kneaded some bread dough.

Samri stopped what she was doing. “I can’t believe that!” She exclaimed. “Jedi were good…” Samri lowered her voice, looking around her. It was not a safe thing to speak well of the Jedi anymore. Not safe at all.

Samri lowered her voice further. “But all the Jedi are dead.”

Lira glanced around before answering. “Lord Vader killed ‘em all,” she murmured. “Least that’s what I heard.” The cook studied the young girl. “What do you think of his lordship?”

“I hate him,” she answered coolly.

“He’s a cold one, that’s for sure,” Lira answered as she shivered. “Those eyes of his – they just look right through you as if you were a piece of furniture or something.”

“Or something…” Samri answered bitterly.

Lira paused. “Is it true, then?” She blushed and whispered. “Have you been in his bed?”

“We never quite made it to the bed,” Samri answered tightly. “Apparently, breaking in a virgin is not quick work, so he just used my mouth and went on his way.”

The cook put a motherly arm around Samri. “Ah, you poor thing…”

The dam holding back the weeks of tears suddenly burst, and Samri cried for her lost family and freedom. She sobbed out her pain and fear in Lira’s soft arms. At last, her tears were spent and she shuddered as Lira brushed back her hair. “It’ll be all right,” Lira whispered.

Samri pulled away and wiped off her face angrily. She hated feeling weak and helpless, almost as much as she hated the enigmatic Lord Vader who owned her.

“How often does he come back?”

Lira shrugged and went back to kneading the dough, recognizing that the girl needed time to regain her composure. “Never can tell,” she replied. “Sometimes he’s here for weeks on end and sometimes we don’t see him for months.”

“What do you know about him? I mean, personally,” Samri asked, for she was curious despite herself.

“Not much,” Lira admitted. “He doesn’t talk much to us, except to give orders, that is,” she said. “I’ve heard tell that he keeps a locked box in his bed chamber.” Lira began to look worried. “A servant from the village pulled it out once, thought she’d take a peek,” the cook began to tremble. “But he caught her…”

“What happened?”

Lira glanced around her apprehensively. “No one really knows,” she replied. “But milord called in some men to take out her body.”

“What did he do to her?”

“They said it looked like he choked her to death.”

Samri remembered the ghostly feeling of invisible hands around her throat, and suddenly she knew exactly how the unfortunate woman had died. She also knew how easily he could take her life, should he chose to do so.

Suddenly, she was too weary to concentrate any more. “I think I’ll go lie down, Lira,” she said. “I’m tired.”

“Go on then, you’ve been keeping your self too busy,” Lira scolded.


”I did much more work at home,” Samri replied defensively, but allowing Lira to push her out of the kitchen.

“But you weren’t worrying about milord coming home then either, “Lira said shrewdly. “Go, sleep!”

Samri went up to her bedchamber and settled into her soft bed. The warmth of the chamber made her even drowsier. She dreamed of cold blue eyes staring at her, crouched over her. Then she felt the touch of a leather glove trailing up her thighs.

Her sleep was uneasy, marred by dreams of the one they called Vader.

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She slept all afternoon and when she woke, the sun had set long ago. The moon was shining brightly upon the lake below her window. Feeling rested, Samri decided to take a swim in the warm waters of the lake.

Grabbing a towel, she ran lightly down the stairs. She glanced at the guard, who merely gave her a smirk and let her pass. Assuming that he would keep an eye on her from a distance, she fled to the lake, deciding not to question this brief freedom. She had no doubt they would hunt her down if she tarried too long.

She got to the shore and put one foot in the water. Laughing with delight at its warmth, she glanced around before she shed her clothes. The guards were too far away to see her and she longed for the brief freedom of swimming in the lake without the encumbrance of clothing.

Skillfully, she dove into the water and came to the surface. Samri reclined in the water, letting her body float in the waters, the moon giving her enough light to see her surroundings. How long she drifted there, she did not know. But it was the first moment of true peace she had had since she came here – since she had woken up in her home the morning the troopers had come.

Sighing, she knew she should return before the guards came looking for her, so she made her way to the shore and began to walk out of the lake. She stopped short when she saw the hooded figure standing there.

It was him.

Samri’s chin jerked up and she tried to conceal her trembling, which was not entirely from the chilly night air. She halted several meters away from him but he closed the gap quickly, her clothing dangling from his gloved fingers.

“You like to swim?” he asked.

Taken aback by the question when she had expected a rebuke, she simply nodded and reached for her clothes. He held them away from her and one corner of his mouth twitched, as if he wanted to smile.

“I haven’t seen you without your clothing,” he murmured, taking a pace back to better view her body.

It was only with the greatest of efforts that she kept her hands from shielding her breasts and the curls between her legs.

He reached out with his other hand and ran his thumb across her nipple. Samri bit her lip at the unfamiliar sensation. It was both irritating and intriguing. But she had no idea what it meant.

Vader came closer once more and he tossed her clothes to the dirt below. She made a sound of protest that was muffled by his lips crashing down on hers. He hauled her up against the hardness of his chest, barely softened by the tunics and cloak he wore.

When she did not open her mouth quickly enough, he nipped at her lips and her gasp of surprise gave him the opportunity to invade her mouth with his tongue. Long, slow sweeps of his tongue explored her mouth while his flesh and blood hand came to grasp her breast. His fingers plucked hard at her nipple, walking a fine line between pleasure and pain.

He pulled back and examined her flushed face in the moonlight. His own breathing was rapid, but a pleased smile softened his face just a bit. The eyes, though, were still cold.

“You’ll warm my bed quite nicely, I think,” he murmured against her throat, where he nibbled at her thundering pulse.

“I did not expect you back,” Samri said, trying to ignore the way his hand was traveling down between her thighs.

“You are not to expect anything but what I give you,” he admonished her in a cold voice even as his fingers teased the folds of her sex. His touch was skillful and she felt moisture begin to slick his fingers.

Desperate and overwhelmed, she pushed him away and stumbled back. “Please, milord… I’ve never…”

He laughed and shook his head. “Ah yes! That pesky virginity…” He pursed his lips. “So you don’t want me to take you here on the dirt under the moonlight?”

“I… “

Vader grabbed her hand and jerked her close to him, the folds of his cloak shifting to envelop them both. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, his breath hot against her cool skin. “I am going to take you,” he murmured, his fingers returning to her core. “I’m going to put my cock where no man has ever been before…” his fingers thrust up into her, drawing a sharp cry. “Perhaps a virgin wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.” He picked her up and wrapped his cloak around her.

He strode quickly back to his castle, giving the grinning guards a nod as he walked past them with Samri in his arms. The room to his chamber flew open as he approached it and she heard it slam shut behind them.

Then she felt herself falling the short distance to his huge bed, draped all in black, just like him. He stood over her for a moment, his eyes just as they had been in her dream. His eyes never left hers as he stripped off his cloak and then his tunics. He leaned down to take off his boots, his eyes still locked with hers. She was mesmerized by that icy blue gaze, unable to look away or even to cover herself.

Then he was left only in his black pants, the leather creaking just slightly as he slowly removed them. Then he lowered his body to the bed, He lay on his side, head propped up on his hand as he studied her.

One long-fingered hand reached out to palm her breast, his touch idly curious. He did not speak, merely leaned down for another kiss, this one hard and hot and demanding. He rolled slightly so that she was beneath him, his body pressing hers down into the soft bed.

Then his fingers were between her legs again, seeking, probing, tantalizing, teasing. She groaned and her legs fell apart of their own volition. He moaned in response to her movement and she felt his huge erection prodding at her thigh. Suddenly, she became aware of what was happening and tried to scurry away, but his hands were hard and inescapable.

“Just relax,” he ordered in a harsh voice, all traces of tenderness gone.

He came up to his elbows, leaning over her. Then one hand traced down her side, holding her steady at her hip. She began to tremble and tried to shift away as the hardness of his cock began butting against her entrance. It felt huge and she remembered the taste of that firm flesh in her mouth, the way his seed had flooded her mouth and trickled down her throat.

“No…” she whimpered. “Please…not yet…"

His jaw clenched and his hips rolled forward, his hand still holding her firmly in place. His eyes rolled back in his head and he thrust forward hard, sheathing himself in one motion. Samri felt something inside her give, and a sharp pain made her gasp and dig her nails into his shoulders.

It hurt, oh gods, it hurt. She was stretched and invaded, her body struggling to accommodate his girth.

He ignored her pain and the bite of her nails in his flesh. He let go of her hip and rested on his elbows, the enormous cock inside of her thrusting in and out without pause. A steady rhythm that got faster and deeper, until sweat beaded on his upper lip and forehead. She felt the sweat slicking both of their bodies as he moved within her. Her hands clutched at his shoulders and a tear traced its way down her cheek.

Vader’s eyes were closed, and he began to grunt with the effort of stroking into her. A tingling sensation started in her belly and she felt poised on the edge of some mysterious precipice. Still, his cock moved in and out of her body with precise strokes that plunged deeply into her core.

She felt him gasp and then he lowered his head and bit sharply at her throat and she cried out in surprise and pain. Then his seed was spurting hot inside of her and she drifted away from that abyss to which he had taken her. Unsatisfied and yet not knowing why, she trembled in his arms. Blood trickled down her throat and she felt the rough rasp of his tongue as he lapped at it.

Blood smeared her thighs as he pulled out of her with a weary sigh.

“You may sleep here tonight,” he said, as if conceding a great kindness. Then he pulled the black shimmersilk coverlet over both of them and fell asleep.

When sleep finally overcame Samri she found she was dreaming of the cold blue eyes and hot length of flesh moving inside of her, stealing her innocence over and over again.


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Lord Vader was in a contemplative mood as he sat before fire. His trip to the capital had been frustrating on many levels. His Master stared at him with new suspicions, as if someone had been whispering nasty insinuations in his ear.

He needed to redirect the old man’s attention. There were many possibilities, but he had to hit upon the misdirection that would be the most effective. There was no dangerous hurry, but he did not want to delay too long.

Sighing, he stared at the black glove and flexed his hand. It was not often he even remembered that this was not the hand he had been born with, not until he saw realization in another’s eyes. It had been in the girl’s eyes that first night. However, there had been neither horror nor pity in her gaze.

It was as interesting as it was refreshing.

She was intriguing, his little rustic farmer’s daughter. She had potential; he had sensed that on their first meeting. There was an inner core of honesty about her that drew him, though he did not wish it to. She was no replacement, but she could prove to be useful and he found he could tolerate her company.

Yes, perhaps it was almost time.
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