Gender: Male Age: 21 Location: netherlands
|Introduction: A lady in distress|
It has been a while since I posted my last story, but I plan on being more swift with my next submission.
A throbbing pain in her head and the sun burning on her neck were the first two things Larissa felt when she came back to the conscious world. Her eyes opened to gaze on the muddy road that moved along under her. “So the storm of last night didn’t bring the release we all hoped for,” was her first and last thought before she glided back in to the dark void.
The next time she woke up her head still hurt but she was much clearer of thought. She noticed she lay on the back of a horse, her hands as well as her feet bound. According to the shadows cast by the trees, it had to be around noon.
The road moved under her as Larissa thought back on the ill-fated event which had landed her in this despicable position.
They had a plan, a simple plan, a plan that had worked before. The word had come in that the Earl had ordered a load of weapons and armor to equip his new recruits. Since these were things the rebels could put to good use, she and twelve others had waited in ambush on the road from Karligen to Brumen. The shipment came and six of the fifteen guards died by arrow, nice and clean. The band of rebels had emerged from the bushes and were finishing off the survivors when disaster struck. By the time she heard the trampling of the hooves, it had been too late. A squadron of royal horsemen came galloping down the road. Her men died all around her and a club hit her on the back of her head.
Hanging like a sack over the horse wasn’t the most comfortable manner of riding and as the miles went by the pressure on her bladder increased. She hadn’t moved yet and so her guards she counted five all the Earl’s men, hadn’t noticed she was awake.
She listened in on their conversation but she didn’t learn anything she didn’t already know or suspect. They were on the road to Bramen; all of her companions found death, and she, or the ‘rebel bitch’ as they named her, was to be judged and hanged in Bramen.
Around the time the fullness of her bladder became slightly painful, a rider came down the road. It was one of the king’s horsemen, who apparently functioned as an outrider.
“There is a little pond with some trees about half an hour walking from here and it suits well to make rest for the midday,” he said as soon he had reached the party.
After the skirmish and the long walk the men were tired, but the thought of getting out of the burning sun seemed to give them extra energy and they reached the resting place much faster than predicted.
Larissa’s horse had just stopped when a couple of hands grabbed her feet and yanked her from the saddle. With her hands bound there e was no way she could break her fall and she landed with her face in the cool mud. This seemed to amuse the men. A boot met her side and she let out a sob which was met with more laughter.
“Time to wake up, bitch,” said a harsh voice above her, and the boot that just kicked her was used to turn Larissa on her back. Now she could see her tormenter. A fat man was grinning down at her. His belly put the leather straps of his harness to the test. Behind him stood a rat-faced youth; the fresh cut over his right cheek would leave a nasty scar that wouldn`t do much good to his already ugly face.
“Yeah take a good look at what you’ve done. It fucking hurts.” he said with a shrill voice.
“You’re lucky you got rescued or else that little scratch wouldn’t worry you anymore,” Larissa answered.
“Shut your whore mouth!” the fat one spat out. “All your friends are food for the worms and you will be hanging on the gallows in a few days.” As if to put force to his words he kicked her a second time.
“Yeah, all your friends are dead and you’ll go to the gallows, bitch,” the younger one snickered.
They waited for an answer that didn’t come. For good measure she got another kick before the two turned around and went to get some water from the stream.
Left on her own she had the opportunity to gaze around. They had stopped in a shallow vale. Due to a blockage of drift wood and leaves the creek had formed a little pond around which had grown dense vegetation.
She was as familiar with this place as she was with the rest of the earldom of Brumen. She roamed the land since her father, who had been a huntsman for the earl, had taken her for the first time on a trip shortly after her mother died. Back then she had been twelve years old. Her knowledge of the countryside had come to good use in the two years of leading the rebels against her husband’s father, the Earl.
She knew where she was, and she if that following that stream would lead her to the woods, which concealed their homebase. But all that knowledge helped her little since there was no way of escape and with all her companions dead, there was no one who could rescue her in time. Their next was stop in a village with a small garrison and a stone holdfast.
After sometime another guard came up to her carrying a cup of water.
“I suppose you’re thirsty. Here, drink.”
Larissa took the cup and gulped the water down.
“Thank you,” she said “I have to pee.”
“Could you please unbind me so I can pee?”
The man turned around and shouted at the group.
“Hey sarge, the bitch wants me to release her so she can take a leak!”
“Fuck off, you ain’t gonna to that! If she wants to piss she can do that here and with her hands bound,” answered a big and bearded man.
The group erupted in laughter.
Larissa clenched her jaws. She wasn’t going to do that! She couldn’t do that! It was not like it was her modesty she was concerned about; she had grown up among men and had practically lived in the woods for the last nine years, so there was little of that. However she knew what danger there was in sitting there with her hands bounds and her pants down.
But with every minute that went by she became more willing to take that risk. What were her options? To soil herself? To live the last days of her life in pissed pants? To sit in court and walk up to the hangman stinking and covered in her own urine? That was no way to go, not for a martyr as she had to become. And what was the worst thing they could do to her? It wasn’t like she was a virgin. That she had given away a long time ago.
And so she came to her decision only a couple of minutes after her request was denied.
She looked around and saw none of the men watching her. The guards were playing dice or were asleep, and the king’s men was taking care of his horse.
Maybe she could perform her act without being noticed she dared to hope. With her bound hands she opened up the leather straps that kept her pants up, pulled them down, squatted and let it flow. She sat with her back to the group. At first it seemed the most reasonable thing to do but after a couple of seconds she began to feel uneasy.
Unseen in the dense reeds was a eight person. He had arrived about an hour before and had gone into hiding as soon the horsemen came by the first time. At that same spot, he had been waiting when the party arrived. Six man, prisoner and two horses. All of the men looked very tired and weary, and as soon as they had halted. They let themselves fall to the ground except two of them the fattest and the youngest. They walked over to the horse the prisoner lay on. The fat one grabbed her ankles and pulled her to the ground. Draped over the saddle he had only seen a pair of long and well-formed legs topped by what you could call a tight ass. With her laying on her back he could see she had brown hair that reached to her shoulders. Her mud covered face was a little bit sharp but certainly pretty. The leather vest she wore fit tight around her narrow waist and rather smallish bosom. But the most stunning feature were dark eyes staring fiercely and full of hatred up at the two men.
The young man in the bushes also noticed that she wasn’t afraid. What a pity it would be if they got to hang that.
He followed their conversation and when the men turned away he kept watching her. He could see the inner monologue play out on her face concerning the dilemma of whether to urinate or not. Even before she knew herself, he was sure she was going to do it. His member grew hard in anticipation. It grew even harder when she squatted down and displayed her well shaped and beautiful naked bottom.
He watched as the pee started splashing on the ground and when the first man noticed he tensed up like a cat ready to jump, but he kept watching.
“Wow look at that, she is pissing,” one of the guards said behind her and Larissa wasn’t so sure about her decision anymore.
“Look at that ass,” another voice spoke.
“It is really a shame they’re going to hang that bitch.”
Larissa heard the men come closer. She was almost finished and started to pull up her pants.
“What are you doing, the show aint over yet.” And she got kicked over, her behind now prominently displayed to the laughing men.
“The whore likes it. Look she’s already wet!” one of them said.
“That’s piss, stupid,” his comrade said with scorn.
“Don’t care. I would still like a piece of that. Can we, Sarge?`
“I don’t know,” the answer was. The silence that followed gave reason to hope.
“She’s an outlaw and as long you leave her in one piece so we can bring her in front of the Earl, no one will care what you do to her.” It was the king’s man who had spoken and her heart sank to her stomach.
It was all they needed to hear and the hands came, grabbing and pinching her painfully, hands led by lust.
At first she was face down and the hands roamed over her back and bum, but soon that wasn’t enough anymore.
They turned her on her back and someone cut the straps that kept her vest together, exposing her fleshy globes to the grabbing hands, mouths and tongues joined in biting and licking, nibbling on her nipples.
There was no more talking only deep animalistic groans of lust. She didn’t want to see, she didn’t want to feel and she didn’t want to hear. Only over one of those things she did have power. And so she laid there helpless with her eyes closed and endured.
Despite her revulsion and determination not to enjoy it her body didn’t obey her mind and when a finger went to her pussy it slipped in with ease. She had to clench her jaws to suppress a moan.
Soon the finger withdrew and was replaced by something bigger. She gasped as the first penis began into pound in to her. Soon it spilled its seeds and was replaced by another. Surrounded and touched by unseen hands, mouths and dicks, the woman couldn’t contain her arousal. She started to moan and squirm. Her squirming body was held down by forceful hands and the moaning got muffled by a member pushed between her parted lips. In lust she started sucking.
Her body started to burn all over, her back arched and she let out a loud scream as her pussy started to spasm. This caused another penis to erupt inside of her. Soon the next orgasm started to build up, deep down in her pelvis.
There were two people who didn’t participate in the sweating pile of human limbs. One of them saddled his horse as the other one hid in the reeds.
The one in hiding collected his thoughts and feelings and let the nothingness wash over him. Calmly he notched an arrow onto his bowstring, pulled it to his lips and kissed it goodbye. Then he picked up a second one.
Larissa felt another fresh load being dropped in her womb and the man then collapsed to her right side. Warm liquid spilled on her face and when it slipped into her mouth, it didn’t taste salty but like iron. There was a bunch of screaming and shouting. She opened her eyes and saw the sergeant lying next to her, dead with arrow coming out of his eyeball. On her other side was another corpse.
The guard that had brought her the drink got his throat sliced open by a young man who was gone before he hit the ground. His killer moved gracefully to the next man. This was the fat one who had just pulled up his breeches. The sharp sword in the youth’s right hand carved through the leather harness like butter. The fat one died with a surprised expression on his face as his gut poured out of the wound.
All of this happened in a matter of seconds. By the time Larissa realized what was going on the blond stepped calmly on to his last victim. The rat faced boy sat on his bare ass sniveling, his pants still around his ankles.
“Please, please have mercy,” he cried.
With a face untouched by expression, the man raised his sword over his left shoulder, and with one diagonal swing, he cleaved in to the weeping boy’s face. The gaping wound on the left of his visage diminished the earlier one to a mere scratch.
He cleaned his blades on the dead boy’s breeches then he turned and walked over to Larissa. With a small knife he cut the rope around her wrists. Then he picked her up like she weighed nothing and carried her into the creek. Tenderly, he cleaned her skin of the blood and semen. When she looked up in to his calm and warm eyes, she felt her hart flutter and she dropped her gaze quickly.
He left her sitting in the creek and went to get her clothes. When he came back she emerged from the water. They were almost of the same height but she was a tall woman. He gave her pants and held out her vest. Once she was fully clothed he broke the silence.
“We have to move fast now. One of them got away and they will soon be upon us.”
Until that moment it had all been like a dream, but she realized she wasn’t safe yet.
“Up stream,” Larissa said before darkness engulfed her once more.
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