Horde (Corvid & mchawtie)

[Corvid]

"What," he murmured bitterly, "and break my oath?"

He tipped the ladle slowly, allowing the water to trickle into her mouth.

"Under other circumstances, I would urge bed rest. And food, of course. But the way they've been gagging and beating you, you could vomit and asphyxiate. And if I allowed that to happen..."

He grimaced. "My survival hinges on keeping you alive to suffer." He turned his gaze away. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

[mchawtie]

"Then we'll both be dead and out of this hell hole" I counter. "Isn't that better than working here, with the enemy?"

[Corvid]

"You must think me a terrible coward."

He still didn't look at her, letting out a long breath before he spoke.

"When I tried to run away, they broke my leg, and mis-set it so I could hobble like you see now. Then I tried to kill myself."

He seemed to fold in on himself.

"They gave me salted water to make me purge the poison I had taken, and they broke the fingers of my right hand. And then they brought me to a Sylvesian village they had just sacked, and told me to ply my trade, to save who I could..."

"I re-set the fingers of my hand myself, when they let me leave. I have not... found it within myself to defy them, since then. I sew up wounds. I treat fevers. Once or twice, I have found ways to let prisoners near death find their way across. But they know you aren't near death, and the women are still watching me from their tents. If they let me have my knife, or my drugs, perhaps... but what could I do here, now? Drown you in half a bucket of water? Beat you to death with my ladle? Smother you with the hem of my shirt?"

[mchawtie]

She sighed. "Have anything for the pain at least?" The bruises and burns were killing her. If only they actually would, so she could be free

[Corvid]

"I slipped some pounded willow bark into the water. That's why the bitterness. They don't let me near anything that might be dangerous or..." He ground his teeth, "...useful unless they know exactly what I plan to do with it. If they understood the willow did anything but taste unpleasant, they probably would have beaten me for using it."

He took a deep breath.

"I should warn you... They did give me ammonia spirits. Inhaling them prevents someone from fainting, and I fear that's exactly what they intend."

[mchawtie]

"Thank you, for the water, and the warning." She smiled faintly. He couldn't be all bad, could he? "Next time though, slip something leathal in the water.' She smirked at this, knowing full well that the likelyhood of him being able to do that was slim to none.

[Corvid]

"I truly hope there is no next time..."

He frowned, seemed to hesitate.

"If you make it back to the Sylvesians, would you tell them Werrlys, the healer of Aberton, was taken alive?... No." He shook his head. "Don't bother. There's no sense in any blood being shed trying to fetch back this useless shell of a man I've become."

Rowdy voices could be heard approaching. The healer flinched. "Courage." He turned and hobbled away.

[mchawtie]

"I'll tell them, if i get back." She promises quietly "thank you" she sighed, lying back and trying to relax, knowing what was coming next

[Corvid]

There were five of them, two with torches against the dying light. The former drummer, the man who had so enthusiastically directed her torture as he used her mouth, was in the lead. A skin of some liquid was being passed about, and the faint smell of alcohol mingled with the smoke from the torches.

"Well." the drummer smiled coldly. "Isn't this a sight?"

There was a chorus of nasty laughter.

"You're a nasty little tease, Sylvesian," he sneered. "Daring to black out like that before I got to shoot my seed in your gullet. I've been thinking about how you're going to make it up to me."

[mchawtie]

"I-im sorry" I stutter "i-i didn't mean to... how can I make it up to you?"

[Corvid]

The other men let out an approving noise. The drummer knelt between her splayed legs, his rough hands moving over her naked thighs.

"So, here's what I'm thinking, pretty little whore. I'm going to rape your cunt, good and hard. And I'm going to beat you while I'm fucking you, because a Sylvesian bitch like you needs to know her place." He held up one open hand, wiggling his fingers.

"And while I'm fucking you, I want you to squeeze my cock with your cunt with every thrust. I want to feel your cunt giving way for my cock, milking it with your inner walls. You keep gripping my cock so I can give you the fucking you deserve?" He wiggled his fingers again. "Good."

"If you stop squeezing my cock...?" His open hand clenched into a fist. "So what do you think of that plan, Sylvesian?"

[mchawtie]

"Whatever pleases you, master." I respond in a resigned voice

[Corvid]

"She's learning." laughed one of the men.

"'Prefer 'em with a bit more fight, myself..." said another.

"She doesn't have to fight," sneered the drummer. "She only has to suffer."

He pulled his engorged cock from his pants as he moved closer to her, brushing the bulbous tip against the inside of her thighs, tickling across her pubic hair.

"Tell me, girl," He growled. "Did the women do a good job in drying the inside of your pretty pink flower?"

[mchawtie]

"Yes master." I replied, bracing myself for the pain this new onslaught will bring

[Corvid]

"I'm so glad to hear it."

His hands curl under your hips as he positions himself, then begins to push.

Your dryness makes this a slow process as your labia peel inward with the thrust, as his cock enters you; his teeth grit in sheer determination to enter you fully with the first, cruel penetration.

[mchawtie]

I'm careful to do as I'm told, clenching tightly around your cock

[Corvid]

He lets out a grunt of satisfaction as his body comes to a halt against yours, pushing you up to the limits of the ropes that bind your ankles, watching your face with a contorted sneer on his own.

He pulls back slowly, and thrusts back viciously, twisting his hips against you at the peak of the thrust, all the while watching your face. His lips pull away from his teeth in anger; his hand comes up to land with a resounding *smack* on your right breast.

[mchawtie]

I yelp slightly, clenching a bit tighter with the added pain.

[Corvid]

"Is that what gets you Sylvesians off, whore?" he whispers. "I'll have to remember that, next time I have one of your ladies beneath me..."

"That's it, Ghan. Give it to her!" Encourages one of the men holding torches.

He pulls back slowly, and thrusts into you hard, making your body shake beneath him, always watching your face, looking into your eyes, drinking in any sign that the hurt and defilement is getting to you.

[mchawtie]

I yelp again, my body clenching involuntarily against his cock