tagNonConsent/ReluctanceThe Downfall of Vonda

The Downfall of Vonda



This story was inspired by the novels by John Norman and a period of online role-play. This is the history of one of the characters I played on Gor. Gwenivere is NOT a character in the published books. She was purely role-play and brought to life in this story.

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Times had been tense for Vonda and her people. Tarn wire had been strung over the city. Warriors had been put on full guard every hour the day offered. The Ubar had locked himself in his offices over the past few days. Council meetings occurred up to three times a day. Rumors of war were beginning to be passed amongst the various gossip groups of Free Women. Worry was apparent amongst the citizens. In the Ubar's home, his daughter was kept barricaded inside. "For her protection" his written command had said. Gwenivere had not seen her father for days now. Her restrictions in the big home had grown more intense. Now she was no longer capable of leaving her chambers. Slaves brought her meals and entertainment. Each day she was kept captive by the guards outside her door, she grew more and more angry with her father. Why had he done this? What was he so worried about? The great Ubar hadn't even addressed his city. What was going on? Preparations for some sort of battle were being made, more being put into effect every day. Normally Gwenivere would be present in the council meetings merely because of her place as Ubar Kamchak's daughter. Now she was held captive and ignorant in her own chambers.

After six days of seeing only slaves, Gwenivere confronted the guards posted outside her doors. When they moved to restrain her, she merely stood and stared into each set of eyes. "I demand to see the Ubar," were her simple words. The guards seemed to pause a moment, glancing at one another. With only a nod a command was issued by the one in charge. The other nodded and turned down the hall. Gwenivere had already gone back into her chambers. The remaining man pushed the door shut to stand as solitary guard until another came to his aide. In fury Gwenivere ripped off her veils, tossing the headpiece and silken fabric to her bed. The Ubar's daughter was never one to show temper or anger unless something drastic had pushed her to do so. Standing at the shaded window to gaze out over the city, Gwenivere let her pent-up tears fall.

Soon enough there was a knock at her door and a messenger slave entered. Outside were seen two guards again. Gwenivere turned to the sound of her visitor. The boy blushed from head to toe at seeing the free woman unveiled and instantly turned his head in respect. "Ah... the Ubar will see you straight away, Mistress. Do you require time or service before seeing him?" Gwenivere had already donned her veils again. "Just take me to him, boy."

When Gwenivere entered the Ubar's main office, the giant of a man was hovered over a map diagram. His ambassador Mikal stood at attention at the side as the Ubar muttered about this and that. The message slave cleared his throat softly to get the Ubar's attention. The man turned and glared at the slave a moment then waved him away. Gwenivere stepped forward quietly, her eyes lowered in respect of her father and her Ubar. Just as the woman was about to speak, the alert was sounded at the east wall of the city. Kamchak's eyes grew wide and hie looked out the window of his office. Sudden curses that would even make a warrior blush left his lips. "Mikal," he said, looking at the ambassador. "Get my daughter out of here. Now!"

Mikal immediately called warriors to attention and they escorted Gwenivere out of the offices back to her chambers. She went with no fuss, though it pained her that she could not stand at her father's side. It was understandable that such drastic precautions were taken for her safety. Gwenivere was the Ubar's only child left. His son Kay'l had left the city and gone Black for unspoken reasons. No word had been heard from him since. Gwenivere was all the Ubar had left. His wife Oshena had died of the fever when Gwenivere was only a little girl.

Again Gwenivere was locked into her chambers, but now with far more pretentious guard. There were four warriors outside her door, two stationed within the chambers and guards stationed at her windows, blocking any entrance to her. More alerts sounded. Alerts of invasion. Whatever it was the Ubar had tried to protect his city against was happening. The walls were failing and it'd been less than half an hour. It wasn't long before the attacking force breached the walls and flooded the city. Hundreds of them. Gwenivere watched in horror as citizens were cut down ruthlessly. Men, women, slaves. The attackers were milling from all sides to one eventual goal; the Ubar's tower. Fear seized Gwenivere's heart. She quelled a scream and backed away from the window. Her father's beloved city was collapsing. One of the warriors reached for Gwenivere before she fell and let her sit down. She was trembling uncontrollably. It would only be a matter of time.

Suddenly there was a scream of a woman, most likely a slave in the lower battlements of the tower. They were here. There was no way out. Gwenivere's guards were all at attention, tense with the anticipation of battle. Gwenivere thought she sensed giddiness in a few of them. The attackers had gotten through the wall guard, now they were working through the lower guard of the tower. There were just too many of them. Though the city of Vonda had her guard and her warriors... they, even all together, were no match for this many. There was a clamor in the hall past the door of Gwenivere's chambers. All her guards shifted, bringing their weapons at arms.

Curled up on her bed, Gwenivere was losing hope. If Vonda's attackers had made it this far this quickly, Vonda would surely fall. The Ubar himself was not but a few floors higher. Perhaps he had gotten away. He had tarns. But the wire... Perhaps through the back passageways. She felt her hopes dwindling even more, fear coursing through her. There was a dull thud against her door and a shout as the guards engaged with the enemy. They just weren't enough, they weren't prepared for this sort of onslaught. Gwenivere saw red. The red of the warriors, the red of the blood of those slain, the red of fear. She looked at her hands, red with blood. The blood of her people, her friends, her home. A scream escaped her throat just as the doors of her chambers burst open. The guards leaped to the lady's defense, fighting off those who dared invade their territory.

Though they fought bravely with strength, they were not enough against the numbers that poured into the chamber. The invading force broke through Gwenivere's guard, cutting the men down when there was the chance. Gwenivere sat in frozen terror as a man advanced toward her. A giant of a man he was. Blood stained his clothes, an open gash was across his left eye. His own blood oozed from a deep cut in his side. The woman smiled in some satisfaction. At least some of the attacking force were suffering. Suddenly the man's hand clasped over the layers of veils in front of Gwenivere's face. With a vicious yank he pulled them from her. With a howl of victory at the woman's startled scream, he grabbed her by her long mane and pulled her roughly from the bed onto the floor. As Gwenivere fell forward, she embedded a long hairpin into the man's thigh; poisoned as the weapon should be. The man's eyes went wide before he collapsed with a groan. Trembling in terror, Gwenivere crawled away from the dead man only to be snatched up by another enemy. She was stripped down to camisole and bound hand and foot before she could so much as scream.

She felt the man's rough hands pawing at her ruthlessly. She could do nothing but struggle in her bonds, which did very little, and scream. Her guards were dead and the other invaders had only cast quick looks in hers and the man's direction before departing to continue on. She was alone with this brute of a man that held her, that was treating her like a piece of livestock. She screamed and his large hand cuffed her across the face. Terror gripped her as she felt the camisole ripped and cut away. She quelled another scream, not exactly wanting to get hit again. She tasted blood from her cut lip and she shuddered as she was groped. She inhaled sharply as the muscled hand slid between her thighs. She was wet. Whether she wanted to be or not, she was wet. She whimpered in fear as the man's thick fingers slid into her sex. Her whole body quaked as she tried to fight him off but failed miserably. He had her bound and helpless. He rolled her to her back roughly and stuffed a portion of the remnants of her camisole into her mouth to silence her screams and cries and pulled his leathers open.

He raped her then; he took what he wanted from the female body beneath him. Gwenivere screamed in agony when his cock first entered her, ripping her woman head to shreds. He didn't even bother to let her relax or grow accustomed to a man inside of her. She had been virgin until that very moment, and by the Priest Kings it hurt. The harder he raped her, the more she screamed and tried to buck him off. The fight was pointless. He had what he had come for. The proud free woman and daughter of the Ubar had been reduced to nothing but a screaming, writhing animal beneath a ruthless man.

When the bastard came, it was quick and harsh, about like the rest of his treatment of her. She lay there, bound, gagged, her voice ragged from screaming and breathing hard. She couldn't move. She hurt all over. All she could think about was the pain. Good, she thought. She felt the pain her city was feeling now. Raped of all she had to give and taken by force under the enemy.

The invaders had made it to the top of the tower in the time it'd taken the man to satisfy himself. "Father..." Gwenivere thought as she was thrown over the man's shoulder and hauled off from the Ubar's tower. She cried inside as she saw her men's bodies strewn across the floors haphazardly. Blood was everywhere. The groans from the wounded only brought on their swift execution as was required by the codes. The man who carried her jostled her about without much care. He had his prize, though he probably didn't know who she was. The battle was not yet over, but the invaders seemed to feel they had won. Gwenivere saw her personal slave girls in the main hall. Their bodies were bloody and broken. Their beautiful eyes that were so bright and happy were now faded with the film of death that pervaded over the defeated. Fresh blood trickled over the lovely inner thighs of her beloved slave Trinity, a look of utter agony and terror frozen on the girl's face. Now Gwenivere just felt icy cold and furious inside. How dare they! How dare these forces, whoever they were come to take her home and destroy it! They couldn't!

But they had... and she could do nothing. The feeling of defeat closed around Gwenivere's heart as she was thrown to the ground outside the tower with a collection of other captives from her home. She recognized a few warriors, slaves, visiting merchants, the Ubar's physician, Mikal; men and women all from the Ubar's tower. Mikal's gaze was one of sorrow and fury at seeing Gwenivere's naked, ravaged state. She immediately looked away from the man in utter shame as her face flushed. She couldn't stand to look at any of them. Shame swam over her, drowning her in the sea of disgrace. She was nothing now, just as the city of Vonda had, she had fallen beneath the Enemy to be squandered and broken.

Armed guards were stationed around the captives to keep them under control should any choose to rebel. The man who had taken Gwenivere stood beside her, eyeing her hungrily, an evil, triumphant grin on his face. She ached all the more under that gaze.

The trumpets of victory sounded from the top of the Ubar's tower. Cheers rose up through the enemies, glorifying in their triumph over the city. They had her Ubar, her leader, her heart, soon to be her home stone. They had won merely by sheer numbers. It wasn't a fair battle tactic, but it had been done.

Vonda had fallen.

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