I had gotten caught. Even though I was just ‘kitchen help,' certain things were to be kept private, even in this troubled time where we constantly heard tales of clan wars just over the border, and all trembled at the thought of what may come. And although I had believed my grassy, green glen to be both safe and private enough, I had been found out. As I had lain there, skirts up around my waist, bodice shoved down to free my breasts to that sexy, silken breeze, my haven had been violated.
Unbeknownst to me, as my fingers plundered the treasure between my wide-spread thighs, I was being watched. With my head thrown back, on hand caressing my abundant wetness, the other grasping desperately at the sweetly scented greenery surrounding me, thoughts of my lover filled my head, rendering me oblivious to the lecherous gaze raking my exposed form.
Bright green eyes glowed as they took in the abundance of silky white skin exposed to the cool air, traveling from my dark red curls clinging to my flushed cheeks, across my vulnerable neck, smoothing across my shoulders, down my heaving bosom, lingering there a moment to take in the rapid rise and fall of those large orbs, topped by their rosy, stiffened nipples. Down further now, across the expanse of bodice and skirt bunched together, the lace-edged underskirt providing a pleasant contrast to the dark hair surrounding my most private parts, then further on, to the wide-spread thighs, bent knees, feet bare of shoes or stockings.
Slowly, that lewd gaze caresses the length of my body again, this time stopping at the openly displayed juncture of my thighs, my observer's pulse quickening as he watches me pleasure myself, four fingers pumping in and out, hips rising, thrusting myself upward to meet the pressure of my palm, moaning in pleasure at the rapid thrust of my own fingers.
Biting my tongue, I gasp in delight at the pleasures of my own fingers. Ooh, that feels so good. I love the warm sun caressing me while that ever-crisp breeze blows across me, cooling my skin while arousing me to the point of oblivion. As I begin to rock my hips back and forth, my other hand, the one that had been clutching at the grass, slides back over to my aching body, slips onto my heaving chest, and begins to stroke and squeeze those milky white globes, pinching the nipples, holding them high as if to feel them to a hungry lover.
Those prying eyes watch in astonishment as that hand slides down my body, caressing and fondling the smooth skin found along the way, before joining its mate at my quivering, heated core. Slipping and sliding around each other, both hands now pleasure me, one stroking while the other rubs, juices glistening as my body shakes and shimmies. Suddenly one hand goes underneath me, and to the complete amazement of my watcher, I pleasure myself by caressing and penetrating both holes – and in a matter of moments, I lose all control, body spasming, clenching, drenching the ground that I lay upon, as I give myself over to complete pleasure, moaning your name as I surrender to my powerful orgasm.
Slower now, my hands caress me, rubbing gently, hips softly moving, breath still ragged. Even slower, now I barely touch myself, body still throbbing, still moaning, whispering your name, eyes still tightly closed, imagining you here with me in our secret spot, not out on the hunt as you are.
Finally my hands still, and I lay there, bathed in shadow and sunlight, aching for you, exhausted from my efforts to recreate the magical hold that you have on me. Moaning softly, I get to my feet, still wickedly aroused but knowing that the only thing that puts out this fire is your sweet cream, deep inside of me.
Stretching, I take another moment to enjoy the caress of sun and wind on my exposed body before covering myself with my clothing once more. And it is as I bend down to pick up my basket of herbs that I realize my privacy has been violated. A rough hand muffles my screech of surprise, while a very strong arm winches around my waist, driving my surprised gasp of air out of my lungs entirely, leaving my light-headed and confused.
A raspy voice mutters obscenities in my ear, relaying what he saw there in my private glen, the pleasure that he got from watching such a randy wench pleasure herself, and right out in the open at that....
As my breath fills my lungs again, my terror sharpens – I am being held by someone not of my lord's keep. Having grown up there, I know all from the lord himself to the newest knight-in-training, down to the lowliest stable boy. This voice is unknown to me – and in that unfamiliarity lays a fearsome danger. As my predicament becomes more apparent, I begin to shiver in uncontrollable tremors, all the while trying desperately to think my way out of this latest misadventure.
My captor chuckles as he thinks that my shivers are leftover from my self-appeasement of moments before. His hand slithers from my waist to my breast, where he cruelly squeezes and pinches me, believing that my gasps are those of pleasure, not the pain that is now coursing through my body in response to torment.
As he is distracted, groping my aching flesh, I decide that any action is surely better than no action, and so saying, twist in his arms, elbowing him in the ribs while biting as hard as I can into the hand covering my mouth. I am rewarded with a grunt of pain, and momentary release of my entrapment while he staggers back, shocked that I have bested him.
Taking advantage of my freedom, I hike up my skirt to run, not caring who may see what at this point, just bent on escape. Knowing these woods, I have an advantage – but unfortunately for me, my attacker soon has his breath back. He is soon hard on my heels, and within moments I have been snared again – this time because of my long dark curls, as he reached out and caught a handful of them, lifting me off my feet and slamming me onto the ground, once again knocking my breath from me.
This time he will not be so unsuspecting. As I lay there, gasping for air, seeing stars swirling about my head, he flips me over and ripping a piece off my skirt, ties my hands behind my back. Roughly he drags me back up to my feet, cursing me the entire time, sucking on his palm where my teeth broke the skin.
I stand there, glaring at him, head tossed back, almost daring him to give me a break again, knowing that I will run for it at the slightest chance. When he calls me a whore, I stiffen, knowing full well that the only one I have ever given myself to is you – and had our circumstances been different, we would be together – but what knight can marry a kitchen wench?
Seeing my reaction to his taunts, he pushes harder, telling of the probability that all in the keep have had a taste of me, that I would turn no one away, regardless of rank or standing. My temper has risen while listening to this, partly in my own shame for having a lover that can never be more, and partly from pride. I refuse to let this unwashed miscreant get the best of me.
When he taunts me for my earlier behavior in the glen, calling me all sorts of names for my self-fulfillment, I lose my temper. I icily inform him that my lover taught me how to please myself, that he enjoys watching me do that, and that if I cannot have my lover, then no one else will do – thus the need for self-gratification.
Hearing this, my tormenter laughs, quickly yanking his pants partway down, exposing himself to me, informing me that if my lover were so well-endowed, I would be too sore to do anything to myself. Seeing him exposed thus, I laugh. Derisively I explain that his pathetic little worm couldn't satisfy a newborn babe, much less a full-grown woman.
As I watch his blood begin to boil, I realize my error in scornfully evaluating his manhood. Fearfully I take a few quick steps back – but my balance isn't very good with my hands tied behind my back, and I stumble. Lunging forward he captures me, on hand bruising my arm where he grips me, the other tangled in my hair.
Growling, he mashes his face into mine, biting at my lips when I refuse to open them for his invading tongue. Gasping in pain at his insistent nips, my lips open, and his mouth ravages mine, teeth grinding into my lips and I gag, nauseated between the rotten stench of his unwashed mouth and the coppery taste of blood where he bit me.
My eyes water at the pain in my head from where he has snagged his fist in my hair, and my arm is throbbing where he is squeezing it. Pushing me backward, he backs me up against a tree and pushes himself into me, grinding my hips between the tree trunk and his aroused manhood. My breasts are squashed between us, and my shoulders feel as if they will be torn from their sockets while my wrists themselves are being scraped raw on the rough bark of the tree. Feeling my head start to spin, I realize that I must fight this creature, for after he rapes me he will most likely kill me.
Taking as deep a breath as I can, trying to quell the rising tide of vomit at the feel of this barbarian against me, I close my eyes and bite down, trapping his tongue between my sharp teeth, and biting hard.
My captor screams in pain, instinctively pulling his head back, unwittingly doing further damage to himself by scraping his tongue through my tightened teeth. I can almost feel victory, knowing that he is sure to release me to deal with this latest wound.
But he doesn't. He seemed to have learned from last time, and is smart enough this time to not let go of me. He is, however, infuriated. No mere woman shall get the best of him! And with that thought, he backhands me across my cheek, nearly breaking my jaw with the fury of his rage and pain. And as my head rocks from that pain, my other cheek slams into the tree trunk against which I am still being forcibly held. Stars explode behind my eyelids, and all thoughts of resistance are gone.
Barely conscious, I hear a tearing sound and realize that he has just ripped my bodice wide open. At my barely audible whimper, he shoves his forearm against my throat, effectively silencing me as I choke for breath, and he reaches down and yanks my skirts off, leaving me completely bare for his gaze.
While I struggle, weaker and weaker against his forearm, he mauls me, pinching and squeezing, poking and gouging, taking delight in my agony. Finally, when I am on the verge of unconsciousness, he throws me facedown to the ground. While I gasp in life-giving oxygen, he ruthlessly spreads my legs, kicking my thighs apart with the toes of his boots, delighting in the bruises he can already see forming on my fair skin.
Dropping to his knees, he rips his pants off, thoroughly aroused by my helplessness, and as I lay there on the ground, he shoves his engorged manhood into my exposed ass, grinding one hand into my back to hold me submissive while the other one repeatedly cracks against my ass cheeks, reddening them even as he pounds the hell outta me.
I lay there crying and whimpering, bitter tears streaking down my face, knowing that if it hadn't been for my own temper, the outcome of this horror might have been different. But now, due to my own sharp tongue, I have not only been raped, but in all probability have lost you, my wonderful lover, for after this there is little hope that you would want my now-violated body anymore - not when you can have your pick of women from anywhere in the king's domain.
Finally I feel my attacker stiffen, and feel the disgusting blasts of his seed deep inside my ass. He shakes and shivers as he cums, making sure that every single bit of it is inside of me, before he pulls out and lays on top of me, his withering worm resting against the crack of my ass while he whispers in my ear that I surely am a sweet fuck, and he will enjoy selling me to this lord he knows of who does so enjoy tormenting his women until they are so abused that he has no more use for them....
With that, he gets up off of me, pulling his pants back up, standing between my legs so that I am still exposed to his gaze as he watches his seed spill out of me, pleased with his days' work so far.
Leaning down, he once again drags me to my feet, pinching and squeezing me as he does. Leaving my clothes on the ground where they fell when ripped from me, he leads me back through the trees to where his horse has remained tethered, laughing cruelly as I stumble along the way. With his hand wrapped in my hair, he holds me still while he mounts his horse, then painfully pulls me up with him ‘til I am held between his thighs, with his burly arms once again wrapped tightly around me, my bound hands forced to rub against his crotch as the horse plods along. Briefly I entertain the thought of pinching him where it would hurt the most, but quickly realize that with my hands bound, I would not be able to balance on the horse when my captor reacted to this latest attack – so I leave my hands where they are, shuddering at the intimate contact with such a repulsive part of his anatomy.
As the horse quickens its pace in the clearings, my body bounces on its back. My ass, already sore from having been so viciously violated is now slammed against the saddle, bruising it even further, as are the insides of my thighs bruised against the rough seat. My breasts, unsupported by my bodice, are jounced quite horrifically – I can feel them bruising with each lope of the horse's gait. My captor, feeling them repeatedly brush against his arm, laughs and squeezes me tighter, immensely enjoying my discomfort. He urges the horse into a canter, knowing the roughness of that gait will only pain me further. I can no longer fight back the whimpers that this ride is causing. My entire body aches like never before.
Delighting in my torment, I can feel my attacker hardening again. Repulsed, I try to pull my hands away, but he won't let me. He pulls himself out of his pants, and places his hard cock in my hands, the gait of the horse providing the movement he needs to ensure that he gets pleasure from the contact.
As he rubs against me, his arms slides from around my waist, and once again his hand mauls my already swollen and bruised flesh, twisting my nipples, pinching and pulling them, making me screech in pain and humiliation. Laughing, wickedly aroused by my torture, he leans forward and bites that sensitive area between my neck and shoulder, nipping it hard enough to draw blood, which he then licks up with the tip of his tongue, amused by my repulsion of this act.
Finally ending his abuse of my tortured breasts, his hand slips down over my belly to the juncture of my thighs. Poking and jabbing at me, he slides his fingers down the now-painfully-dry crease of my outer lips, spreading them widely apart before jamming two filthy fingers up inside of me. I scream and stiffen at this intrusion, instinctively pulling away from this latest torment, unconsciously making it easier to access my womanhood.
Laughing gleefully, he inserts two more fingers, now making me ride his hand as it bumps against the horse, driving it further and further into me.
I can't help my reaction to this – this is something you had done to me many times as we rode across the country, spending our stolen moments together whenever we could. I feel myself start to moisten around those horrible fingers, and curse my own body for its betrayal. This filthy pig behind me doesn't realize that I am responding to what you have taught me to enjoy – he surely thinks that I am responding to his vile touch. And surely enough, he does think that, so he leans forward to congratulate me on coming to my senses, telling me that he will make it good for me, and that any slut would be more than happy to ride him and that I should have realized this sooner and saved myself a lot of trouble.
Once again letting my temper get the best of me, I spit out that my response has nothing whatsoever to do with his filthy, vile, disgusting body – but that my lover has taught me many ways of giving and receiving pleasure – and a few of them could be done while on horseback. I tell him that his puny cock is no match for my lover – and no matter what he does to me, he could never even begin to rival you.
With a bellow of rage, my attacker shoves my hands out of the way and using his handhold on my lower body, savagely pulls me back onto him, simultaneously shoving his cock back up my ass and shoving his hand as far as possible up my slightly moistened cunt, tearing at the tender flesh there, while his sharp teeth clamp down on the side of my neck – hard.
Unable to deal with this agonizing assault, I drop sharply off into unconsciousness, blissfully unaware of his second load of hot seed pouring into my abused ass.
When I next wake up, it is to find that we have stopped outside a castle, and are still mounted, while an evil-looking man descends the steps to where we are. His eyes glitter maliciously as he visually caresses my entire body, from my now-tangled curls of hair to the tips of my toes, dirty from my flight through the forest. He seems to take perverse pleasure in the bruises that adorn my chest and thighs, and reaches over to spread my cunt lips, licking his lips at the ravaged, bruised and bleeding flesh there.
His hand slinks up my stomach to my breasts, where he pokes and prods at will, relishing every pain-filled gasp and whimper, cruelly flicking my nipples and pinching them, delighting when this further abuse brings tears to my eyes.
Raising his eyes to my captor, he agrees that I'll do, and they decide on a price. Once the coins have traded hands, my captor gives me a violent shove, throwing me off his horse and into the arms of my new owner, who grips me with one arm flattening my throbbing breasts and the other shoved between my legs, holding me wide open for all in the keep to see as he unhurriedly negotiates the steps up to the keep's large wooden door.
Humiliation, bordered by panic, sweeps through me at this latest degradation. In a matter of hours I have gone from a fairly innocent, yet sensual being, to being used as a toy by men who rejoice in my pain and suffering. Feeling the ache of every one of my bruises, I know that this evil creature carrying me through his doorway will not treat me any better – and in all honesty will probably put me through worse. Unbidden, tears come to my eyes, and I have to clamp down on the feeling of despair that is threatening to overwhelm me. If I am to make it out of this evil place, I must keep my wits about me, for although I realize that I have lost you, I have not yet lost my will to survive.
With a thud, my new ‘owner' drops me to the floor of the great room, laughing as I gasp in pain, knowing that by tomorrow I will be almost completely covered in bruises. Again I gasp as he wraps his hand in my hair and pulls me to my feet, stretching me so that I am on tip-toe, straining against the pain in my scalp where my hair threatens to be pulled out by its roots.
Reaching onto a table behind us, he grabs a large pitcher, tipping it up to spill the warm ale over my face and neck, watching as it cascades over my body, dripping and splashing, somewhat cleansing me of the dirt and dust from my flight through the forest. As I splutter and try not to choke on the liquid being dumped on my face, he licks his lips at the sight of the amber liquid flowing over my abused body. When the pitcher is empty, he sets it down again, then reaches with his free hand to catch a bead of liquid as it falls from the end of my tightened nipple, raising his hand to his mouth and sucking that finger as if the amber drop were true ambrosia.
Tipping me back even further, his gaze sweeps along the length of my body – and due to the awkward position in which he now has me suspended, I am forced to balance myself by placing my bound hands on the edge of the nearest trestle table. This action arches my back, as though I were voluntarily offering him plundering rights to my body. He likes my fury at what is happening to me, telling me that soon he will have broken that rebellious streak, and made me into a properly submissive whore.