The Bound Knight Ch. 05

The spike-heels were the worst, but a close second were the dildos. They were four fingers thick and covered in bumps along their metal surfaces. The one in her ass was flared at the base to keep it in, and the one in her cunt had a clamp that bit down on her clitoris too keep it in place. Finally, to complete the ensemble, Cum Puppy had placed a ring gag in her mouth. Another large, golden ring, it kept her mouth open painfully wide, and her jaw ached as drool dribbled down her chin and chest.

As she entered the hall a few of the men-at-arms jeered and whistled. She kept her head on the floor, partially because some of them were the ones who had raped her earlier in the day, partially to make sure she didn't trip on anything. She did glance up at her father's table at the head of the room. He sat next to Vassimir, leaning over to talk to him as Cum Puppy and Eager Hump pleasured him. Both men looked at her occasionally, but they mostly seemed to be lost in their conversation. She saw two of her brothers at the far ends of the table. Saul, who mostly oversaw her father's fields and farms, was a fat lump surrounded by his slaves. Lopen sat at the opposite end. A self-described 'poet' He had a single slave whom he treated so well even Eve thought it scandalous. Briefly, she wondered what her third brother, Calidor, was doing. He was the oldest, and the least useless of the trio, and had been sent to the king as an envoy. As she started to fall behind and Cock Kitten tugged at Eve's collar, causing the spikes to drive into the back of her neck, Eve decided he was likely fucking the king's slaves, and not actually doing his job. Otherwise, this duel never would have happened.

They crossed the hall until she stood before the table where the knights sat. Sir Moldred of house Gyvain sat flanked by two other knights. She had heard her father speak about them before, but didn't know if the fair-faced ginger was the lowborn Sir Gastogne, or Sir Aloric of house Vyair. She had no doubt about which one was Moldred.

She saw him through stolen glances as Cock Kitten walked her around to the man she was to spend the night with. He was a large man, as big as Ben or Vassimir. But Vassimir was old, and had skin like jerky, and Ben had as much fat as muscle. Moldred was fit. There was a tapestry in the library which she had often looked at. It depicted a battle which her great-great-grandfather had supposedly fought in. On it were hundreds of men on horseback and foot, fighting with spears and swords. In the center of the melee was a single knight -- armor shining, sword and shield in hand, his crest glowing on his breastplate. In the tapestry the knight was smaller than her hand, yet she could picture him perfectly. He was what a knight looked like. A true knight. Moldred, with his long blonde hair and statuesque form, was that knight.

Cock Kitten lowered herself to her knees, bent her head to Moldred, and held Eve's lead out to him with both hands. She started to say, "To Sir Moldred of house Gyvain, this cunt presents -- " but before she could finish Moldred was up. He slapped her out the way, knocking her to the ground, as he snatched Eve's lead. He pulled it, hard, and as the spikes of her collar pierced her skin she fell towards him.

He caught her. He held her to his chest, arm wrapped around her and holding a handful of her hair at the back of her head. She realized that, even though she was forced onto tiptoes from the spike-heels, he was slightly taller than her.

He reached around behind her head, and with a single pull, yanked off the ring gag that held her mouth open. "Speak your name, cunt," he ordered, tossing the gag to the ground.

"Eve," she whispered, her jaw still aching. His eyes were a deep brown, and he stared at her the way a man lost in a desert stares at water.

He squeezed her hair and pulled her into him, forcing her into a kiss. She realized, as his strong form wrapped around her, that the kiss she had given Cum Puppy was a pale imitation of what he was doing to her now. As his tongue entered her mouth, he seemed to suck the strength from her. Once he was through, he pulled her away from him, and she was left breathless.

"Crawl," he ordered.

She fell to her knees. Her feet were bent painfully to avoid the spikes, and the chains around her legs pressed into her skin, but her mind was blank to the pain and everything else. He tugged at her collar, and she followed.

Vaguely, she was aware of the other people in the hall watching her as she followed him out the door. She glimpsed a slave girl following them as she tried crawl fast enough to keep up with his long strides. But none of this registered in her mind. All she could think about was the pounding in her chest. And her fear. And her excitement. The door shut behind them, and Moldred led her to his chambers.

-

At the high table, Count Mevenmein watched as Moldred led his daughter out of the hall. He turned to Vassimir. "Prepare the Crest. The duel will be tomorrow at noon." He glanced back at the door Moldred had left through. "We'll need her ready before then."

And in a dark corner of the hall, a short, pale woman stood hidden from view. She watched them, all of them, a smile playing across her lips.