A painter’s apprentice chapters 1 and 2 (more to come) - Sex Stories

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

... artist, little whelp. Why, this could be a gift for the Medici! Fit for the popes ceiling!” he said with a smirk. With that, he snapped it in half over his knee then, threw the pieces into manure. “You should send her to Florence to apprentice the great Michelangelo!” Giovanni slurred drunkenly. Jacopo flung her into the stall of his tired old mare and threw a shovel at her knocking her backwards into the filth. “Make yourself of use! No more of this silly scribbling!” Later that day as always, she met her father at the market to bring home the leftover milk that hadn’t been sold. The jug was just as heavy as always, and it took all the strength she could conjure just to keep her body upright. Her head slumped in effort, she glanced absent-mindedly at a pair of feet in polished leather boots that stopped in front of her. “Hello Lecretia.” She looked up and what she saw bewildered her. It was Marco santacelli; the richest man in Muro Di Pietra, and he had addressed her by name. She dropped her head. “H-hello.” She stammered meekly. “Does your father have any cheese left to sell?” “N-no. He sold it all” and he nodded “Ah. That’s a shame. I’ll ask him tomorrow.” She didn’t respond. She stared dumbly as he walked away trying to make sense of the encounter. Why did he know her name? When she had recovered from the bewilderment her eyes happened to glimpse the waist length blonde hair of Mia Liberto. Her stomach fluttered. She barely knew Mia and these feelings perplexed and ...

... troubled her. Still disoriented, her eyes fell upon Filippa Materazzi and her brother Sandro. She Froze. Hopefully they hadn’t seen her. Maybe if she walked away fast enough they wouldn’t notice. Their father Dante Materazzi was one of the richest men in the village and whenever they saw her, they taunted her mercilessly. Suddenly the milk jug was snatched from her shoulder and when Lecretia reached for it she was knocked off of her feet onto her back, producing a startled yelp. “Squeals like a rat!” remarked Sandro. Filippa was older than Lecretia. She looked about eighteen and was easily twice her size. “Hello, little Lecretia!” she beamed mockingly. “Coming from the market? Did you make enough money to eat today? I noticed you talking to Marco Santachelli. Do you really think He’d want a poor milkmaid?” Lectretia stared, not quite comprehending her question. “We have a dim little peasant girl here, haven’t we? rumor has it, little Lecretia, that he’s looking for a wife. Don’t waste your breath, little peasant. He’ll take a rich girl.” She got timidly to her feet and raised the milk jug back to her shoulder. “H-he wanted to buy cheese.” Filippa smirked, and Lecretia prayed they would let her leave in peace but Filippa continued to follow her. “Haven’t seen you at mass in a while, little Lecretia. Why’s that?” When she didn’t answer she was deliberately tripped and her face landed in the mud and the milk sloshed all over her. They howled with mirth. “Just trying to keep you ...