Beauty and the Horny Beast

She stood there, in the corner by the front door, looking very much like a small, trapped animal. She watched him put down fresh pelts in front of the fire then he turned and came for her. She refused to run from him, she stood there and watched him approach her. He took her by the arm and lead her back to the pelts on the floor. "There was so much", he thought......"so much she had to learn", but that would come with time. Right now all he wanted was bury himself in her. Besides fucking her he couldn't think of anything else to do with her, but for right now that was enough. He quickly removed his underwear and let his erect cock loom over her, he thought it would impress her...all it did was scare her! She turned her head toward the fire hoping to escape into her mind again but no such luck this time.

He took her then, against her will but he expected that and didn't really mind it. Her struggles were preferable to her being unconscious like she had been last night. He held her wrists over her head with one hand, held her jaw open with his other hand and rammed his tongue down her throat. He forced his knee between her legs and spread them wide. She was kicking him with her small, bare feet but he hardly felt it. His dick found her opening like it remembered where it was from the night before. He pushed hard on her and it slid in to the hilt, he sucked her moans into his throat. He liked it when she cried out like now, made him feel so powerful.

Her struggles were actually exciting him more and as it turned out, she was fucking him with her actions and he loved it. She kept fighting him until a strange thing happened...she shuddered violently, cried out and then went limp, she had exchanged the passion of anger for the passion of lust; her legs fell to the floor, her arms no longer trying to get free. She was stunned by this development.......what had happened to her? She didn't know, but Nevar did and his shout of triumph bellowed out over the room. He quickly followed her climax with his own and rolled to his side, taking her with him. He held her tight up against his hairy chest, he let her rest and then finally she slept. He held her like that for a long while and then fell asleep himself.

She awoke some time later that night. Nevar was sleeping on his back, uncovered, his manhood was also "sleeping". SaintLoon sat on her knees and looked at it in the dim light. It could not be the same thing she'd seen earlier this evening, could it? She glanced at Nevar's sleeping face, he was asleep or so she thought. She missed the slight glint that showed under his eyelid a second before. He thought she looked like a goddess, her golden hair all wild and glowing in the fire light. She reached out with one finger tip and poked it, nothing happened. It was so soft...kinda cute, she reached out to touch it again and he grabbed her hand, grinning he pulled her to his chest. "So, ye want to see what gave ye so much pleasure? Tomorrow lass, time enough tomorrow, sleep now." He pulled the pelts over them and he slept. Loon did not.

She lay there with her back against his chest, his chin resting on top of her head, his arm around her waist. She could feel his breath moving her hair, she had to think and quickly, too. She was so drowsy now though...she slept.

Nevar woke early, again the fire had gone out but he was warm from the pelts and SaintLoon. She was up against his side with her leg sprawled over his legs, her arm across his belly. Nevar eased himself out from under her, keeping her covered with the pelts he arose and stretched. He dressed quietly, left some bread and ale on the table and left to go hunting. He stopped off first to buy a comb for Loon's hair. He sat and with his dagger he carved something onto the comb. He hoped she would like it. He put it into his pack and started out again. He had to hunt again for food and ale. He'd best get started. Maybe he'd make enough today to buy some bars of metal to make armor, which he could sell.

SaintLoon woke up as soon as Nevar had shut the door, she lay there in the dark, feeling all warm and snuggly. She knew it was useless to try to get out of the house since Nevar always locked the door. She waited under the pelts until light filtered through the windows. She got up and looked around Nevar's house, it had two rooms, like hers did; the bedroom seemed to be only used for storage. She rummaged through his things and found some old clothes, hose and doublet, put them on and then ate. She wandered around the bedroom and under a pile of pelts she found a knife! Not a real good knife but it would do. She put it under the sleeping pelts in the living room. She then sat down and waited for Nevar to come home.

The sun had set long before Nevar came home that evening. He was tired, chilled and grumpy. He entered the house and saw the Loon sitting at the table, dressed in those old clothes of his. This displeased him. "Been snoopin' into my things, have ye?" When she didn't answer him he started towards her, "Take them off.....now!" She didn't move, only glared at him. "Ye will listen to me, woman and ye will obey" he said, then he yanked her up out of her chair, pulled the shirt off of her and flung it across the room. Her breasts, freed from the material bounced and jiggled, she tried to cover herself with her hands but he saw them and wanted them. She dodged around the table and made it to the sleeping pelts. She was on her hands and knees, groping for the knife when he dropped to his knees behind her. He freed his hard cock from his greaves and pulled her pants down to her knees, she was trying to crawl away but it was too late.

Her legs were pinned between his, he was fumbling for her cunt and found it as men always do. He held her hips and began thrusting hard and deep into her. She was raw, swollen and dry, he was hurting her but he didn't care. She screamed in pain and rage, he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back towards him. He held her this way until he was about ready to cum, he released her hair and began pounding into her, never letting up. He released his seed, then collapsed on top of her. He lay still for a few minutes, breathing raggedly, he rolled off of her onto his back. His eyes were shut, he didn't see the knife in her hand. She raised it up over her head and brought it down hitting him in the mid-chest. He yelled and tried to raise up but then he saw the knife handle protruding from his chest and he fell back.

SaintLoon lost no time in getting dressed, she grabbed his pack and ran out the door slamming it behind her. She wandered for a day or two, lost and hungry when I, Twitter, the teller of this tale, came across her. I knew who she was but not what had happened to her. I took her to my house, fed her, gave her much wine to drink and a place to sleep. As she undressed for bed I could see the many-colored bruises on her fair skin, black, blue, green, yellow. Places where her skin had been abraded and gouged. I could see the outline of hand prints on her buttocks, she had obviously been beaten but by who? And why? I sat and watched her sleep, listened to her mutterings and cries but couldn't make out what she was saying. I finally slept myself.

The next morning when she awoke I was already up and about. I had warmed water by the fire for her to bathe with, she was in need of a good scrubbing. She seemed embarrassed for me to see her body with its obvious wounds; I kept up my nonsensical chatter to ease her mind while she bathed. From the marks on her breasts and inner thighs I could guess much of what had been done to her but not by who. She finished bathing and dressed in some old clothes of mine, we had a light meal and then I asked her if she wanted to tell me about her ordeal. At first she was reluctant but finally the words began pouring out of her as fast as she could speak. I hurt inside for her. I wept with her. For one so high to have come so low was a pitiful thing to see. After all this, I took her to her house, rather than the hovel she first thought, it was now her refuge. I showed her the gold Alaina had given her and we went shopping for armor and furnishings. We then went to the woods where I taught her to hunt; she caught on quickly and became quite accomplished by days end. I left her there, in her house, with instructions to come to me if she felt the need for any reason.

Some of her words still haunt me and leave a chill on my usual merry soul. She said she didn't know for sure if Nevar was dead or had she merely wounded him. If he was not dead he would find her for sure and take her to his house again; after all she was his ward. If he was dead she said she didn't think she could bear it. And this then is why she is called "SaintLoon, The Pathetic"! She thinks she will never feel again what she felt with him and she feels her own body betrayed her by responding to him. She sits at night, alone in her house, and by the firelight she looks at the comb Nevar had bought for her. She runs her fingers over the words he carved; it simply says, "My SaintLoon."