The Pit and the Stable Maiden

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Two lovers and tortured for their love for each-other.
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Roheart
Roheart
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I made a mistake. I coveted my neighbor's woman. Nay... I coveted my king's woman. And for that we must suffer. And, so, this is our story.

*

She was a handmaiden in the stable. A young and curious lass, with fire like a stallion in her hair and eye.

We bathed and brushed the king's horses, morning and night. We passed each other, with ever a slight touch, from stable to stable. But I knew, with her hesitant hand and coy smile that she was mine. She was mine, if only I'd had the courage to ask.

Instead, I am here, in the black, searching.

*

She was asked to be a bridle maid. An honor, of course, for it was only the most beautiful and fair stable maidens that were allowed to escort and handle the king's personal equines.

One night, I watched the king enter the stable after a successful foxhunt, drunk on the rush of the hunt and fine red wine. He hungered for a woman's flesh. From a stable over, I watched.

He followed her with half lidded eyes as she stepped up to his stirrup. Gaze down cast, she grabbed his boot and steadied the mare and helped him unhorse. As she bent away to check the mare's shoeing, he undid the lace at his belt. Red cheeked and stumbling he made himself ready to take her.

I could do nothing as he forced himself upon her. Lifting her skirt with his burly hands, he pushed her against the stall wall. Through a knothole, I saw him pull down her corset and lay her bare breasts against the hay.

The wee thing had barely the bones to lift a saddle, she was no match for him. His red face grew slobbery as he moaned and grunted against her. She winced as he entered her, and bit her lip against the pain. As I knew it, she was a virgin.

Knowing her place she kept her tongue. Growing desperate against mine, I remained. But the king grew violent. After several thrusts, I saw the blood dibble down her leg. And finally she let out a squeal, not lustful but desperate.

In an attempt to quiet her cries, he grabbed her throat. Silencing her, he quickened, hungry to let fly his seed. I stayed, knowing my place... and her place... until... she collapsed.

Grunting against her lifeless body, he grew more vigorous. Breasts bare and wild, buttocks and hips shaded by lifted skirts, but no longer any restraint or cries.

Seconds it seemed after her faint that he was near bursting but I could take it no longer. I growled, like an animal. With a horseshoe hammer in my hand, I entered the stall and swung at my king.

*

It had been two fortnights since they bagged me, gagged me and put me in this pit.

The last thing I recall is her open mouth, desperate for air, as I pulled the brut off of her. A sharp, hard thwack to the back of my skull and here I awoke, in pitch black.

Musty, damp and cold is my cell. It is dark to the point of feeling like I have my eyes closed against a bad dream from which I cannot wake. I am chained, and - from the feel of it - can only sense a fraction of the wall in my circular cell.

Days pass of nothing but water and gruel. The steamy summer keeps it humid and moist in what I assume are the deepest depths of the castle dungeon. I know it to be the deepest because I have no sense of time other than meals with no light of day or stars of night.

Then, they brought her.

*

They drugged my first meal of the day. When I awoke it was to a different scent, a kind of tangy sweetness. And a new sound, there was deep breathing from a shallow breast.

My bonds were much loosened and I could crawl along the full length of the wall. I methodically worked in one director, determined to come across a door, or - at least - my new cellmate.

Finally, I felt flesh. The feet of a woman: dainty and soft. They were bound and she did not give or flinch against my touch.

Drugged, I thought.

I worked my way up. Calf, thigh, a small cloth, chest, arms, neck, face, and cropped hair. She was gagged. The gag was locked in place, with a tube for feeding.

Monstrous, I thought. It's my fire haired stable maiden.

I just knew. They've come to torture me... and her.

*

God have mercy on you for the rest of the story I'm about to tell.

*

They tightened my bonds so I cannot touch her but I can speak to her. I've told her who I am and why I think we're here and that I'll get us out.

But it means nothing, because every day they come. Every day they come to rape her.

Before they begin, she and I are blindfolded. I hear the men come. While its still dark, they put heavy cloth over our eyes. But they light candles after so they can see her. She is bound against a cot, wrists and ankles. She cannot move or scream.

But I can see. I can angle myself against the wall to pull up the blindfold. They must know this and they must not care.

The first time they ravaged her I screamed and fought against my chains, and I was beaten. The second time, I screamed and fought and she was beaten, to the point of unconsciousness.

After that, I screamed no more. It was easier for both of us if no one fought or cried.

Except, with one man. He wanted her to cry. He made her cry by torturing me.

His compatriot would burn me and make me scream as his friend entered her. She would cry and scream for me while he took her. Then he and his friend would trade, torturing me and fucking her while she screamed, silently.

The clean stripes down her cheeks where the tears fell were the only reminder of their visits.

Then the lights, would again, go out.

*

Finally, after weeks of ravaging, they let her be, and set me free.

Not totally free. There was still blackness but I could move about. Slowly I moved to her. Gagged and scared, all I did was touch her arm. She could only reply with tears.

Soon, she started to move her body, ever so slightly, asking for my arms to hold her. She assured me with a press of her head against mine or a relaxing of the muscles when near, that I was wanted.

After many days of comforting, she slowly asked for me. Not needing comforting as before, but in the womanly and manly need of lovers.

I smelled her then, like I did in the beginning, tangy and sweet. Though bound, when I put my hand against her, she moved toward it, aching for it.

She arched her back against my hand on her breast. She spread her knees against my hand on her thigh.

Cotton mouthed and cock hard, I slowly pushed my fingers gently inside her.

Her whole body shuddered. My cock solidified. I slipped one finger deep inside and her body shook and writhed.

I grabbed her breast with my other hand and squeezed the nipple up to my mouth. A groan emanated from her gag. I bit her neck and she melted and pushed against my hand on her cunt.

Throbbing, I switched hands and took my dripping wet fingers from inside her and put them to my cock. Stroking slowly, I wet my cock with her juices and continued to caress her body. Against my slightest touch she pushed her hips into my hand and I slipped more fingers inside her.

With a hot, rod-like, cock I decided to move closer. Her knees and hips spread as much as they could against the restraints. I got on my knees against the cot and pressed my thighs against her thighs and put the head of my cock against her swollen cunt.

Before I entered her, I caressed her body and let her writhe against my hand. I wanted to know that I wasn't dreaming, and that she truly wanted me.

Working my way from her full hard nipples to her hips, I put my thumb on her clit and with the other hand slid my cock against her wet lips. Spreading them gently, I slipped the head of my cock inside.

Her body stiffened and relaxed, she held her breath as I worked my way slowly, deeper inside her. Despite the ravaging, her cunt was tight, wet and unscarred.

I felt a sense of euphoria as the base of my cock pressed against her clit, my sack resting against the soft billowiness of her buttocks.

I was thick and hard - harder than I've ever been in my life. This woman, ravaged and beaten, wanted me. She wanted ME to enter her and love her.

She caved and thrust toward me as much as she could. Pushing her breasts against me, reaching up with her hips after each retreating, repeating thrust of my cock.

Finally, the wantonness of her bouncing flesh took over my mind and the gripping of her wet cunt around my swollen cock took hold. My mind lost all sense, my loins burned as my seed crept up through me. With a few final desperate thrusts I shuddered and came atop my stable maiden.

She lay there after, breathing deep and slow. I thought her asleep until I tried to move, but as soon as I did she shook. Not with ecstasy but fear. Fear that I would leave. So I stayed, limp and sweaty, a shell of my former self. But she still wanted me atop her, protecting her naked flesh.

We slept. We slept and as we might never have slept before, except as babes - without dreams. For the sweetest dreams to be had, had already come... and gone.

*

The next day, I was hanged for my crime against the king. But they cannot take me to hell for my stable maiden has already shown me the mercy and love of heaven.

Roheart
Roheart
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