("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2012. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Tamsyn by Realoldbill (address withheld) *** In Medieval times, a lovely young woman finds herself in the power of her mad brother who has become Duke by killing their father. Captured and tortured, she manages to prevail. Caution: violence. (Mf, nc, rp, v, inc) *** PART 1: Becoming the Duchess "Wake up, m'lady, wake up, quickly, quickly. Get dressed," the elderly woman shook the girl's shoulder and then went to open the heavy drapes. Tamsyn stretched beneath several layers of blankets and furs, extending one pale arm out into the chill air. She sat up, shivered, tossed back her dark hair, and lay down again, pulling up the covers, curling her lithe body into a ball. "What's the hurry?" she asked her old maid as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. "The sun's barely up. We have nothing today." "There's trouble. Something odd is going on, something bad, very bad. Get yourself dressed, now. Be quick." The girl swung her long legs over the side of her high bed and reached her feet down for her warm slippers just as the door burst open and two of the palace guards entered, swords in hand and showing their teeth, followed by a young officer in his leather garb, an odd smile on his bearded face. "Take that crone out of here," he said pointing to the trembling maid. One of the men sheathed his straight sword and grabbed the old woman and hauled her to the door. "Where, sir?" "The courtyard, dolt, for the separation. He'll probably feed her to the dogs." The man saluted and left with the sputtering maid while the other guard eyed the girl with undisguised interest, the foreflap of his tight britches bulging. He leaned on his sword and licked his lips, looking her up and down, enjoying her with his eyes. "What is the meaning of this?" Tamsyn demanded, holding her nightgown together at her throat, her lush, young body stiff, nipples hardening from both fear and cold. The officer laughed and tossed her the heavy robe he found on the footboard. "Put this on, your foolish ladyship. Wouldn't want you chilled before we use you." "Get out of my room at once," cried the girl loudly, ashamed that her voice quivered as she got to her feet, holding the robe to her chest and feeling fear and anger in her throat. Tamsyn was seventeen, just seventeen the previous month in fact, the apple of her father's eye, the most beautiful girl anyone could remember seeing for several generations of the ruling family and already the goal of many high-ranking young swains. She was, of course, an intact and untouched virgin. She snorted, glared at the guard captain and shrugged into her woolen robe, pulling the belt tight at her slim waist and buttoning the loops across her high breasts, lifting her chin, tossing back her long hair and watching the men with obvious distain. The guard sucked his teeth as he sheathed his blade, feeling his arousal at the sight of the voluptuous young woman in her thin garment and flowing robe. He, like the other men following their new lord, had been promised an unimaginable reward for their treachery, one that stimulated his lustful nature. Cries rose from below, and he smiled. "Take her down to the courtyard with the others. Is she the last of them?" The guard officer was also eager to get his reward, his manhood throbbing. "Aye, sir, the boy's away at school," the big man said, sheathing his weapon and grabbing Tamsyn by the wrist, enjoying the smell of her, the feel of her warm skin, the excitement of her nearness. He felt his massive cock swell and tremble. "Don't fuck her on the way down. There'll be plenty of time for that later." The guard chuckled and pushed the girl out into the flagstone floored hallway. "Get," he said to her. "What's going on?" she asked, walking backwards and hearing a clamor from outside. Fear rose in her throat like a burning ember. Briefly she hoped she was dreaming. She certainly did not like the look on the man's face, she had never seen such a look. It was, she decided, avarice. "They calls it a coup, miss, so I'm told; coo, somethin' a'the sort," the big man said, adjusting his swollen privates in his leather codpiece, "it means everything turned topsy-turvy like. You'll soon see." He chuckled and admired the long legs appearing at her robe opening as she turned away from him. He followed her, watching her buttocks sway, stripping her in his mind. Tamsyn hurried down the stairs, losing her slippers, her heart beating rapidly, worried about her friends and relatives, both curious and fearful. From the courtyard came a groan of some sort. She ran outside in her bare feet to find all the staff and many palace guards clustered about the low stage where band concerts were held in the summer and miracle plays in the fall. Lying on the wooden stage, were the bodies of two men, both headless and gory, arms tied behind them. While Tamsyn watched, horrified, her elder brother lifted the head of her father's prime minister by his sparse gray hair and pressed the ragged neck on a pointed pole at the side of the stage. The head of her father's chamberlain was already there, dripping blood, his mouth agape, dead eyes staring. Also on the far side of the stage were a tall man in a dark red gown, his shaggy head bowed; the chamberlain's two lovely daughters, tied to the poles that held up the canopy; and close to the front, the prime minister's new wife who was bound to another corner, her fair hair hanging loosely to her waist; all of them in just their night clothes despite the chill wind, their faces averted from the carnage. "Ah, there she is," cried her brother as he pressed the head of the dead minister deeper on the spike, screwing it down. "Come up here, Tam, you little bitch, be quick. We've saved a place for you." "Are you mad?" she yelled at her brother as she elbowed through the crowd and lifted her hem to mount the two steps. She glanced across at the man standing by the two corpses. "Father," she cried. "What's happening?" The man just shook his head and looked away. "Come here, bitch," demanded her brother, grabbing her arm. He pushed her to the front of the stage. "Here she is, friends, the cause of all the trouble, the Duke's whore. Look at her. She lay with her own father, the strumpet." He roughly pulled her robe to her waist and then tore open her nightgown, spilling out her high, globular breasts with their rosebud tits. The mob sighed. Tamsyn, shocked, covered her round breasts with her left arm as her brother tugged on her right. "Shall she die next?" her brother yelled to the crowd. "No, damn, you," yelled her father, hobbling forward. "Leave her alone." "Very well," said his son, "if you insist." He undid her robe's belt and tore both robe and night dress from his sister, threw her clothes out into the crowd of workers and then tossed the naked girl toward her father who stood with his hands tied behind him and ankles fettered, blood on his mouth and chin. "Kiss him farewell, girl," said her brother with a smile, and he drew his huge, two-handed sword. "Step away," he said loudly, raising the heavy weapon behind his wide shoulder. Tamsyn turned as her father lunged at her brother, and he stepped to the side with a wide smile and cut the older man's head off quite cleanly with a crunching sound the girl would never forget. The spurting skull bounced across the stage and into the cheering crowd, spraying blood, while the spouting body stumbled and collapsed, pulsing gore briefly on the already blood- covered floorboards. Michale raised the dripping blade over his head and drew a cheer. Tamsyn screamed and fainted. She awoke gagging and choking to find herself on her knees and tied by the wrists to a corner pole of the stage with her head turned to the side and her brother's long prick deep in her mouth. He yanked on her dark hair, and she looked up at him, gasping for breath, his erection poking into her throat. "Here is your breakfast, bitch," Michale said. "Best swallow it all; you'll need your strength." The horrified girl could feel the turgid member jerk and spurt repeatedly, filling her mouth with thick semen. She gulped and swallowed, moving her tongue and snorting, trying not to gag, her mind awhirl and disbelieving. She had been an untouched virgin, whose sexual experience involved secretly kissing two young men, one of whom briefly touched her breast and then begged forgiveness. Although she had rubbed at her genitals now and then, she had never achieved an orgasm. Taking a man's foul root between her lips had not even crossed her mind. "Good, good," gasped her brother, thrusting his hips forward, "keep sucking for I mean to deflower you next." He buried his hands in her hair and fucked her face brutally. Tamsyn prayed and tried not to think of her beheaded father who still lay before her or of what her foul brother was doing to her as he crushed her nose into his pubic hair. Briefly she wondered if her young brother was safe at his abbey school. She felt Michale's heavy rod firming between her lips and then pulling loose after raking across her lower teeth. Laughing, he smacked her face with his stiff member and stepped back so the girl kneeling before him could see that the other three women on the stage were also being used sexually by members of the palace guard, all of the females on their knees as she was, heads held down, bare buttocks raised. The audience, the girl saw, was now much smaller and she noticed some folks leaving at the keep's high gate, prodded away by long pikes. She saw the cooks and one or two servants she recognized; the stable boy and a few field hands seemed to be watching with unalloyed interest. "Derek," cried her brother, holding her by the hair, and stuffing his penis out of sight in his brocaded codpiece, "come here, my man." The captain of the guards approached, hand on his sword's hilt, his blood stained cock dangling loosely before him. Tamsyn could not stop looking at it, never having seen a full-grown man's penis previously. It was horrifying and obviously alive. "Ah," said her brother, still grasping her hair, "I see that young May was a virgin, good for you." He smacked the man's shoulder. "Well, as soon as I tear open this little bitch and make her a useful woman, you may have her as I promised." "Thank you, Lord, for she is surely a beauty," said the man, grasping his new duke at the wrist. "Your sword work was magnificent. I look forward to taking her to my bedchamber." "You may use her mouth if you wish while I tend to her ass," said the girl's brother. "Looks like your proud tool could use a good cleaning." "Aye," said the guard captain, who stepped in front of Tamsyn and held up his limp penis before her startled eyes, its dark head as big as a plum. The girl's stomach revolted and she feared she would vomit. The self-made Duke smacked his sister's bare buttocks sharply. "Open your mouth, bitch," he demanded, "serve your new masters. Be useful rather than just decorative." She shook her head and he pulled her chin up by yanking on her hair. "Pinch her nose," he told the captain with a grin. When Tamsyn opened her lips to breath, the soldier rammed his fouled member into her mouth and she gagged. At the same time her brother bent his knees and crouched behind her, stroked his saliva slicked cock and then set it at her tiny anus, pried her open with his thumbs and drove his prick into her with a satisfied grunt. Despite having a cock in her mouth, the girl screamed as her brother's foreskin was pressed back and his ram's blunt head tore into her passage like a driven tent peg. He rammed in and out two or three times but finding the going tight and painful, withdrew, lifted the sobbing girl's hips and pushed himself into her folded nether lips and probed for her opening as he changed his grip from her hips to her breasts, holding her tightly to him while the captain fucked her face, his hands at her at the ears, his eyes closed and a wide smile on his lips. The man in her mouth ejaculated and pulled loose, spraying her face with his spend as her brother found the tight-lipped opening of her unsullied vagina, tensed his leg muscles, gritted his teeth, squeezed her breasts hard and rammed into her with a cry of victory. Six inches of his thick, hard rod smashed her open before he paused, stimulated by the velvet grip of his sister's body. He crouched over her like a dog in heat, mouth agape, eyes closed, testicles throbbing. Tamsyn had felt her maidenhead being ripped apart as her brother's sizable manhood filled her as her body. She yielded to the fierce pressure of his 200 pounds of muscle and lust, gasped and sobbed, spitting out the taste in her mouth as his gristle-ridged shaft spread her inner flesh and began moving firmly to and fro. Michale pushed her forward until her right shoulder was against the post and then he held the square pole with both hands and raped his sister as violently as he could, grunting and ramming until he felt his balls churning and then he pulled free and sprayed her buttocks and back with his seed, crying out in release and triumph. He stood on slightly shaky legs, wiped his cock on the girl's torn nightgown then put away his satisfied member and clapped his guard captain's shoulder. "Try not to come in her and tell the men. They can use her mouth and ass all they wish but don't impregnate her. I have other plans for this whore, a valuable piece of ass. She's very tight, wonderfully tight. Enjoy!" He stepped over his father's body and stood with his feet wide apart on the slippery stage to watch the eager soldier kneel behind his gasping sister and fuck her viciously in the buttocks while she gasped and sobbed. Then he looked about at the other three young women who were moaning and groaning under their own rapes, hair hanging to the floor of the platform, bodies moving back and forth like clock parts, the blonde serving two of his guards at once. He took a deep breath, jumped down from the stage, found his father's head on the ground and kicked it toward the back door of the castle he now owned. All his plans were working just as he had often dreamed. By the time the sun was high, Tamsyn had been raped nearly a dozen times, mainly sodomized. Her tortured vagina had stopped bleeding although her anus was still pulsing painfully. Young May, the minister's daughter, was sobbing but the other two women were resting as best they could, still bound to the corner poles of the low stage, their sore groins and thighs a mass of bruises and gobs of jism. "Mistress," said the nearest girl, "what has happened? How can this be?" Tamsyn licked her split lips and shook her head. "I don't know, Margaret. I'm so sorry. I think my brother has gone mad." "My little sister is in a bad way. May is only fourteen. I'm sure she's still bleeding." "Mayhap they are done with us," said the blonde woman at the opposite corner from the Duke's lovely daughter, the young woman from the western earldom who had recently wed her father's chief advisor. "They were a vicious bunch." From the castle two workmen wearing yokes approached along with one of the smiling guards. The workmen carried a wooden bucket in each hand, and they mounted the stage and proceeded to throw a bucket of water on all four women, drenching them from head to knee. "We're dining," the guard said loudly, "and when we's done, we may want a bit more sport. Thought we'd clean y'up a bit." He laughed and stalked away. The workers followed with glances back at the soaked females, their battered bodies dripping, hair hanging in long tendrils. The ravaged May tossed her sodden curls and looked at Tamsyn with tear reddened eyes. "Can't you do something," she begged. "He's your brother." "Pray, girl," said Tamsyn as the chill wind whipped over her bare skin. The other three young women still wore the remnants of their nightgowns but all four were soon shivering in the cold, teeth chattering, nipples erect. From the castle came Duke Michale along with the captain of the guards and two other well-dressed men. They mounted the stage, and Tamsyn's brother put his foot on the small of her back and pushed her down to the rough floor. "This one's mine," he said, "but Charles, since you are to be my prime minister, take your choice of the other three; something to warm your bed these cold nights." The man looked about, hands on hips and chose Margaret, the dead chamberlain's older daughter. May became the slave of the new chamberlain, a stout man with a bad eye, and the captain of the guards took blonde Ramona with him, her arm bent up behind her. Tamsyn watched them head back toward the castle's gray stone walls, the women trotting to keep pace, the youngest looking back with pleading eyes. "Why have you done this?" she asked her brother as he produced a dirk and cut the ropes about her wrists. He pulled her to her feet, held her to his mouth and kissed her roughly. "I could not wait for him to die," he said after pulling his tongue from his sister's lips. "You are a murderer. You'll burn in hell," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "And you will learn to serve me and anyone else I put in your bed or you will not live another week. You are now a whore, understand, and you will do as you are told or suffer the consequences." Tamsyn spat in his face. Early the next morning, Tamsyn awoke in a dank cell in the bowels of the castle where her brother had sent her, pawed crudely by two guards as they forced her down the stairs and along the dark passageways. She had gone all the previous day without food or drink, and she was famished and very thirsty, her bruised lips parched. She was still naked and her privates ached from violent abuse. The lock turned, the heavy door opened and her brother entered, looked at her with disdain, smiled and said, "Kneel." He had a short whip or riding crop in his right hand and smacked it into his left palm with a loud pop. Tamsyn got to her knees and bowed her head. "Water, please, Michale," she said. "Suck," said her brother, producing his limp male member and spreading his feet to get it at the proper level. He grabbed the girl's hair and made her lift her chin so that his manhood rubbed across her face. "Suck, you bitch, and I'd better not feel any teeth today." Tamsyn shook her head and said, "Never," as loudly as she could. Her brother struck her five times in rapid succession, on the hip, back, breast, shoulder and neck, leaving red and purple stripes. "Suck," he demanded. "No," she sobbed, leaning down until her forehead touched the stone floor. Her brother beat her back and buttocks until his arm tired and her pale skin showed the dozens of welts he had raised, some of them bloody. Tamsyn shuddered and heard the door slam closed. A short while later, the door opened and a palace guard, smiled at her, lifted a wooden bucket and threw the contents at her head. "The Duke tole me you was thirsty," he said as closed and relocked the door. Tamsyn licked the water from the stones and then from her arms and hair. She sat on her haunches and thought about what to do, about how to get out of her brother's clutches. She hugged herself, rubbed her skin and paced back and forth, trying to keep warm. Her mind refused to think about the future and concentrated solely on her thirst and pain. The thin shadow on the wall of her cell had moved to the other side of the narrow room before the door opened again and her brother appeared, patting his wide stomach and carrying a large silver cup. He drank off his wine, wiped his mouth and stood over his sister. "Get up," he said, "Up on your knees." He tossed his cup back to the guard behind him and opened his codpiece. "Come," he said forcefully, "take it out and suck it properly." Tamsyn shook her head and stayed bent over before him. "These other men are waiting for your services." Her bother stepped back and the guard entered, lifted her up under her arms and stood her on her feet, pushed her back to the wall, put his shoulder on her chest, breathed foully into her face as he rubbed her crotch with his knee, looped a rope about each wrist and tied the ropes to rings high on the wall so that the girl was splayed back against the stones, barely able to reach the floor with her toes. Then the man pinched her right nipple, twisted it and stepped back. "Give her some water," said her smiling brother as he studied her exquisite body, stretched out before him in all its youthful glory. The guard threw another bucket of water on the girl and then he and Michale left and the door was locked. The girl licked in all the water she could as it dripped from her hair and nose and tried to relax and ignore the pain signals her muscles were already sending from her shoulders. It was dark when her brother returned along with a uniformed man carrying a lantern. Her arms were numbed by then and her legs cramped. Her chilled body had slowed, withdrawing to its center in order to stay alive. Her hunger had vanished but her thirst remained and her parched lips were nearly glued together. She could no longer produce saliva. "Bitch," said her brother, lifting her chin with his whip handle. This whip was different; it had many thin tails that dangled down on her upright breasts. "The other women are serving their new masters properly. They all have had a meal and some wine. They have bathed, and they are now lying beneath their men and are bearing their weight as they will bear their children in time." He stepped back and lashed her across the chest twice. She screamed and writhed, feeling as if she had been burned in a hundred places. "Ah," he said, "now I have your attention. Put down your light," he said to the soldier. "And show her your weapon." The man grinned, set down his lantern and undid his waist, letting his foreflap dangle. "Do you know Sergeant Forest, sister dear?" asked the young duke, "he is one of our bravest men." The soldier had produced his thick manhood and stroked it with both hands so that it stiffened and rose in his gnarled fist. He smiled at the naked young women before him, never having seen such a glorious body, never having even imagined one. He drooled and licked his chops, thinking of how he would gnaw at her luscious breasts with their hard little nipples. Quickly his huge cock felt iron hard and forge hot in his rough hand, its wide head hard ridged and its shaft knotted with blood vessels. "He has, as you can see, an enormous spear, more than two hands it is and as thick as, well, as your ankle I would say. He will rip you apart, both fore and aft." The man stepped forward until the head of his huge phallus pressed against the girl's soft belly. It leaked a bit of liquid near her navel. The girl tried not to think. In her mind she recited her rote prayers over and over, her eyes closed. "He was on the gate today," said her brother, poking her with the handle of his whip, "so he did not have a chance to enjoy himself as the others did. I have promised him and his mate, who is waiting in the hall, that they may have an hour with you. That's fair, don't you think?" Tamsyn shook her head, unable to take her eyes from the huge phallus arched up before her, jerking and throbbing, its single eye bubbling out lubricant. Snake, serpent she thought and then, no, cudgel, a fence post. It will never fit in me. "You have a choice, my dear sister," he said. "You can come and be my obedient slave, my slut, serve me faithfully in and out of bed, or you can spend a pleasant hour with the sergeant here and his mate." "Go to hell," said Tamsyn, spitting at her brother but only able to generate a bit of white sputum. The sergeant covered her breasts with his large, callused hands, bent his knees and thrust upward, butting his monstrous manhood into the girl's battered folds until it broke through her stretched defenses and lodged in her sore vagina, ripping her open. He growled, squeezed her nipples out between his thick fingers and rammed upward, flexing his thick thighs and bunching his huge buttock muscles. Her young flesh parted, yielded, sundered as he shoved her ripe body back to the gray stones. Tamsyn screamed, feeling herself being torn open again. Her attacker changed his grip to her pelvis and pulled her down on his outsized member, battering at her cervix and grunting with pleasure, his mouth now filled with her left breast and the fingers on his right hand probing and poking at her injured anus. The rutting soldier pressed her back to the wall, abrading the skin of her buttocks and shoulders as she arched under his attack, kicking her legs weakly behind him. He began smashing into her, driving more than a half- foot of thick cartilage upward again and again, butting her tender pubis with his heavy bone. Tamsyn's mind went blank, she saw nothing and felt only the pressure of the huge man bashing her against the cell wall over and over and grunting with effort, his hairy chest and groin rubbing her skin raw as he rammed inward, inward, inward. Then suddenly, she felt something new. He was spurting within her. "No, no, no," she screeched, kicking her feet as the man leaned back and laughed with pleasure, emptying himself into the most beautiful girl in twelve counties. He bit her nipple and shook his head with her tit between his teeth, tasting blood. When he was spent and his huge ram softened, he nibbled more gently at her left nipple and let his massive manhood slide from her battered body. "George," he called as he wiped his cock on her leg and patted her bruised buttocks. The door was unlocked and another guard entered as the massive rapist caressed the girl once more and then left, locking the cell door again, his breathing still labored. In the flickering lamp light Tamsyn watched as the second guard took off his heavy belt and pulled his coarse woolen shirt over his head. He was a smaller man with yellowed teeth and a vile smell. "Water, please," the girl moaned. He ignored her plea as he stood on one foot and then the other to pull off his boots and then stripped off his britches so he was as naked at the tormented girl who hung by her arms before him, stimulating his baser instincts with her undoubted beauty, her ravaged loveliness. His tumescent penis was not as long as the first man's, but it was just as thick and gnarled with pulsing veins, its helmet shaped head a reddish purple. He shook it out and skinned back the foreskin, smiling at the young woman before him. He had enjoyed many tavern girls, worn out two wives and raped a dozen unfortunate females of various ages in his military career, but he had never seen anyone as luscious as this dark headed girl with the small triangle of pubic curls between her long legs and Sergeant Forest's yellowish spend trickling down the inside of her plump thighs. His cock was quickly long and hard, jutting straight out before him. He petted the girl, stroked her breasts and flank, rubbed up and down her battered slit with his hot manhood, lifted her left leg above his hip and then eased his prick into the ravaged opening while she begged him not to rape her. "Please, please, don't," Tamsyn pleaded. "I'm hurt, torn." The man smiled as he pressed deeper and deeper into her, never having felt a woman so young and tight about his rutting cock. He grasped her firm buttocks and pulled her to him, held her head with his other hand and captured her mouth with his lips and jerked his hips forward to drive his proud pole up into her to the very hilt, trying to bury his balls in her vulva. Tamsyn gasped but felt something else as well. Somehow the man had rubbed over a place, she could not tell whether it was within or without, a place that gave her body a tingling thrill. She shuddered and closed her mind as the grimacing guard before her began grunting and ramming, licking at her upright tits and using his strong legs to batter at her, bouncing her off the stone wall. He came quickly, crying out with pleasure, and stepped back to jet a final spurt of sticky spend on her belly. He kissed her again, tonguing her mouth, and smiled. "Damn good, bitch, you're a fine piece." He smacked her hip and pulled on his clothes and then beat on the door. Back came the first man, smiling, his ram thoroughly revived by listening to his partner's enjoyment. He untied one of the girl's wrists and turned her to face the wall, retying her hand to another ringbolt. Then he had at her cunny from the rear, holding her at the hips and rutting with a series of groans and grunts, filling the girl completely, rubbing her nipples and thighs on the rough stones and taking nearly ten minutes before he finally ejaculated in her, shivering with pleasure. He smacked her bottom and beat on the door. The second guard coated his prick with the gooey spend oozing from the girl and then sodomized Tamsyn viciously, mauling her breasts as he did so. When he was done and left her slumped against the stone wall, she was mentally prepared for another rape, but it did not come. Somehow she slept with her face against the granite, knees braced on the wall, her arms stretched above her. Just before the darkness closed on her mind, she wondered what had caused that brief thrill, that frisson of pleasure amidst her suffering. She shuddered and then slept. The girl was awake at least an hour before the key turned in the lock, the door opened and her brother strode in with the many-tailed whip in his right hand and a tin cup of water in his left. The girl's throat was almost closed and she groaned involuntarily after looking back over her shoulder. "Good morning, sister dear," he said, and then to the guards, "Untie her." Tamsyn sank to her knees, her numb arms folded before her, her mind filled with pain as feeling and blood flowed back into them. She rubbed at her aching shoulders and tried to control her breathing. "Drink?" asked her brother, offering the brimming cup. She looked up at him and mustered all the hate she could. "Do you know that those two cretins you left me with last night squirted in me, both of them?" Her voice was little more than a croak. "Damn," said Michale. "I forgot. Ah, but if you are with child, I can always get it ripped from you." Tamsyn reached for the cup, her hand shaking, her swollen tongue between her dry lips, her young body aching for water. "Please," she said. She had tried to urinate twice in the dark, but her body produced only a few painful drops. Her senses seemed to have been numbed, even her hearing and taste. "Ah," said her brother, pouring the water out on the floor, "manners. You had some I'm sure. Now, grovel your way over here on your knees and suck my cock." "No," she cried, unable to take her eyes from the small puddles of water on the stone floor, "I will not. Never. Never!" She turned away from him. Her brother stroked her back with his whip, laying it on gently but pulling it away quickly, leaving behind thin strips of ripped flesh from the barbs in the leather. Tamsyn moaned and shuddered as he did it again, reaching to her buttocks with the knotted strands. "You are no good to me dead," he pronounced. "Bring her down to the chamber below." He lashed her again, producing barely a grunt of pain as she bit her dry lips. The two guards grabbed the girl under her arms and half carried, half dragged her down the corridor and stone steps to a room she had never seen although she had lived in the castle all her life and had enjoyed exploring its hidden passages as a child. "That table," said her brother, pointing with his whip at a heavy wooden table some four feet long and two feet wide. The gril's mind now decided that the place had been the miller's lair when she was a child. It was very different now, an evil room. Tamsyn was bound to the table so that her head hung at one end on a leather-cushioned edge and her legs were splayed widely apart at the other, tied to the table legs with buckled straps, as were her arms. Her brother took off his long-tailed coat and sword belt and then wheeled an odd-looking machine between her spread knees, adjusted the height of an extended dowel and pushed the rod's leather-clad mock-phallus into his sister's battered vagina, making sure it was well seated between her abraded and swollen labia. He turned the wheel on the side of the machine and the thick stalk thrust forward about three inches and then withdrew the same distance with the next turn, pressing the girl's nether lips inward as it penetrated her. Tamsyn whimpered. "Did you like that?" Michale asked his sister who lay spread before him, her head unsupported, dark hair brushing the floor, torn breasts jutting upward. He attached a foot pedal to a thin leather belt and stepped to the other end of the table. "Let me demonstrate how this works. We can attach it to the water wheel if we wish but that provides only thirty thrusts a minute, indefinitely of course. We could leave you on it overnight if you insist." The words seemed to make no sense to Tamsyn who could think only of her thirst. Michale opened his britches, produced his limp member, pushed down his sister's chin so that her head hung before him and laid his cock in her upside-down mouth, sliding it across her tongue and the roof of her mouth and into her throat. "Now," he said, "each time I thrust here," he withdrew and pressed in, gagging her with his swelling cock head, "I can step on this," he pressed on the treadle beneath his foot, "and you get it in the cunt." The leather phallus moved into the girl firmly and stayed there until the man released his foot and then he pulled back out of his sister's throat and let her draw a breath. "Isn't that clever?" Tamsyn tried to shake her head from side to side but found that the straps and her brother's body immobilized her. "Let's try for a hundred, shall we?" he said gaily, and he began moving his cock quickly in and out of her mouth and deeply into her throat as he kept time with his foot, shoving the thick, black, blunt-ended 'dildo in and out of the bucking girl's aching vulva, bruising her tender tissues. When he ejaculated, after many strokes, he held his foot down and kept her throat full until he saw she was turning blue, her eyes bulging. Then he pulled out of her, dangling a sticky stream of his spend over her face and releasing his foot as she gulped for breath. The girl's whole body shuddered when the leather dildo retracted, streaked with blood. Tamsyn moaned and gagged, lifting her head and swallowing repeatedly. She watched horrified, as her brother screwed a different device onto the cogged fucking machine at her knees. This one was a thicker pole that had rounded bulges and low protrusions all over it. It appeared to be made of wood with metal decorations along its sides like domed nail heads. "You are going to love this," he said as he brought the blunt-headed ram to his sister's battered anus. "This has a spring inside it so that the head moves back and forth and each time it is inserted, it rotates a half turn. Let me show you." Michale pushed the device into his sister and turned the wheel four times, ignoring her screams as the thing twisted and ripped. Her blood soon spotted the stone floor. He left her impaled, the mechanical phallus jumping to and fro on its internal spring, and moved back to look at her as her head hung down over the end, her mouth agape, her mind numb, eyes closed, conical breasts pointed at the beamed ceiling. "Would you like to stay here all day so that my guards can use you during their free time?" The girl shook her head, tears flowing freely as she felt her body spasming under the studded phallus's continuously jerking movements. "So you will behave, do as you are told?" She nodded and gasped, biting her lip, her mind able to consider only pain, desiring only release and revenge. Michale went back to her knees and turned the handle four more times, enjoying the high-pitched screeches of the lovely girl before him as her body convulsed on his favorite toy. Then he released the straps holding her down and let her roll off onto the floor where she crouched on all fours, sobbing and trembling. "Come," said her brother, standing before her with his feet wide apart, "come and suck me like a good whore. Show me that you know your place." He flopped out his aroused male member. Moaning, she crawled toward him, hair dragging along the floor, breathing rapidly, aware that she had been deeply and perhaps permanently injured. Tamsyn grasped her brother's legs and pulled herself up to take his half-hard cock into her parched mouth. She circled its head with her swollen tongue, looked up at him, grasped him tightly at the thighs and bit down as hard as she could, ripping through the cartilage and spongy blood vessels of his erection, shaking her head from side to side and tearing off its bulging head. Blood spurted into her mouth. She pushed herself away from the screaming man who had fallen to his knees with his hand at his groin, spat out the gory piece of flesh, got to her feet and looked for water. Finding none she stumbled to her screeching brother who was bent over on his knees, blubbering. She kicked him in the face with her bare foot, jumped on his back and pushed him flat on the floor with her knees under his armpits while he continued to moan and writhe, pouring blood across the stones. Tamsyn began bashing his head against the stone floor, grasping his hair tightly and using all the power she could muster and ignoring his cries, sobbing as she did her work. The solid clunks Michale's head made turned to wet and squishy sounds as his face collapsed and the front of skull broke open, but his sister kept right on smashing his head up and down on the stone floor until she was sure he was dead. Then she leaned back against the table where she had been tortured and thought about what she must do, her lungs burning. Water, said her brain. She licked her lips, tasting her brother's salty blood, got to her feet and shrugged into his fancy coat, turning back the cuffs. She swung the sword belt about her middle, leaving a very long tongue sticking out from the clasping buckle. The coat tails reached her knees. She took a deep breath and then pulled the boots from her brother's splayed feet, stuffed his stockings into the toes and put them on, surprised to find a dirk holstered in the right boot's high top. She kicked the body in the ribs. With her booted toe, she turned her brother's body over and was pleased to see the bloody mess she had made of his face, smashing his nose flat and breaking most of his front teeth as well as his cheekbones. Then an eyelid flickered and he stared up at her and raised his trembling hand, his torn lips trembling. Tamsyn jumped back. His skull was broken, his features now unrecognizable, but he still lived. She smiled, drew his dirk from her boot, showed it to him and then sliced open his belly, sawed off the rest of his male member as well as his testicles and threw the bloody mess in his face. She wiped her hand on his chest as blood spurted anew from his groin and his body shook as his entrails emerged in gray-blue coils. The girl slowly opened the door of the torture chamber and peeked into the hall, ignoring the low gurgling sounds her dying brother was making. A guard was at the far end, near the door to the cells, leaning against the wall, looking asleep. She had her brother's short sword and dirk, but the guard was a big man and she feared his strength. She looked about for another weapon and then spotted the halberds and pikes mounted on the wall along with some old shields. Tamsyn took down a long pike and leaned it behind the door. Then she inhaled a deep breath, cleared her throat, tried to spit, opened the door and in as low a voice as she could muster, cried, "Guard, come here quickly." She left the door ajar and stepped behind it, grasping the thick shaft and hearing the boots in the hall. Into the room ran the man, his short sword in his hand and Tamsyn kicked the door closed. When he turned, she lunged at him with her spear, driving the sharpened steel head through the man's chest and out his back as he stumbled over the table where she had been tied. She let go the pike and he fell on his side, kicking his feet and pulling on the long shaft buried in him. Tamsyn drew her brother's sword and approached the fallen guard. She smiled down at the dying man, recognizing one of the soldiers who had sodomized her on the stage. She hacked at his groin and his face, wiped the sword on his belly and left the room feeling much better about herself. Tamsyn knew the castle as few others did even though she had never discovered the torture chamber her brother had constructed at the end of a locked hallway. She made her way up a very narrow, circular stairway that corkscrewed to the sleeping floor. There she emerged in a corner of a bedroom where her younger brother had slept to find young May sitting at a desk, a book open in her lap. May dropped her book and leapt to her feet, her hand at her mouth as Tamsyn smiled and put her finger to her lips. "Water," said the blood-spattered young woman, "do you have any water?" May nodded and pointed to a pitcher and basin. Tamsyn lifted the pitcher with both hands and poured the water down her throat, never having tasted anything so good. She let it dribble over her chin and splash across her chest, paused, took a deep breath, and drank some more. Slaked, she put the pitcher down and turned to the young girl. "Are you all right?" she asked, raking back her dark hair with both hands and stuffing it into the back of her collar. May shook her head. "This man, Lord Philip he's called, he makes me, he does awful things to me." She put her face in her hands and wept. Tamsyn hugged her and patted her back. "Where is he now?" Tamsyn asked. The girl shook her head. "They were supposed to have a meeting with your brother this morning." Tamsyn smiled. "They won't unless it's held in hell," she said. "Will he come back here?" May nodded. "He can't seem to leave me alone. He paws me and bites me." Voices in the corridor alerted them, and May resumed her seat with her book while Tamsyn stood by the door, her brother's sword in hand, her heart beating fast. The latch moved, the man said something with a laugh and entered, closing the door and seeing the girl in a man's coat and boots, a sword in her hand and a fierce look on her face. "Not a sound," Tamsyn said to him. "Sit." The man blinked at her and cried, "Guards, guards," and Tamsyn drove her sword through the middle of his chest, cleaving his heart. She pulled loose as he crumpled, clawed at the floor and kicked his feet twice before he was still. "Fool," Tamsyn said quietly, wiping her blade on the man's back. She quickly locked the door and the girls waited, but no one answered the dead man's call. "Where is your sister?" asked Tamsyn. "Across the hall," May said, pointing. "Let's go there, both of us." May nodded and Tamsyn unlocked the door and looked out into the empty hall. They entered the room on the other side and stood quietly, watching the thrashing that was taking place beneath the covers on the bed. "That's Charles McKenzie horsing my sister," May whispered hoarsely. "He's probably still got his boots on." "Stay here," Tamsyn said and then she approached the high bed, tossed back the covers and poked the rutting man in the ribs with her straight sword. "Get off," she said sternly as he gaped at her. The man rolled off the far side to the floor and Margaret scrambled out, pulling down her nightgown and running to her sister. "Who the devil are you?" the man demanded, his proud manhood now limp. He was weaponless, in his shirtsleeves and indeed, still booted, his breeches at his knees. "How dare you?" Tamsyn paused, considering the question but now lowered the tip of her blade. She smiled to herself. "I am the Duchess, you cowardly dog, and you are a varlet, not fit to clean this chamber much less fornicate in it." "Damn me," he said, "you're his sister." Tamsyn nodded and smiled. "Move to the window. I'll give you a choice. Die here on my blade or see if you can fly." The man shook his head. "No, please," he cried, dropping to his knees and putting his hands together. "I'll give you anything, my home, my wealth. I have gold, lots of gold hidden away." "You have a wife, children?" Tamsyn asked, poking at his wrinkled forehead with her sword. He had gray hair at his temples she noticed. "Oh yes, yes, certainly. You may have them, your servants, slaves, whatever you want." "Margaret," Tamsyn said, "please take May out in the hall." "No, no," the man screamed scrambling to his feet and making a dash for the door. Tamsyn gripped her sword's leather bound handle with both hands, bent her knees and slashed him across the small of his back, cutting nearly halfway through his body and severing his spine. He groveled on the floor briefly, pouring dark blood from his mouth. Tamsyn stepped over him, noticed that his fingers still clawed at the floor as the women went into the hall. "Where is that guard captain?" she asked. "Does he have a room up here?" Margaret shook her head. "Poor woman. She broke a window and cut her wrists the first day. He threw her body in the pit with the three your brother killed. She was so lovely." "Where is my father's head? I saw from your room that there are still two heads out by the stage." "In the hall. It's on a pole behind the chair where your brother sits to dine," Margaret said. "What's going to happen?" asked May, her lips quivering. "We are going to have a conclave, a meeting, to announce the changes. I am now in charge. They must swear their allegiance to me as their leigelord." Tamsyn considered and decided what she had said was true. She would have to get her young brother home, but until he was of age, she was lord of the manor. "You could use some britches," Margaret said. May smiled and giggled, the happiest sound Tamsyn had heard in a long time. "Would you two go along and tell all the servants to come to the hall. I will see to the guard captain. When most are assembled, ring the bell and call in the guards." Tamsyn treaded through a narrow and dark passage that sloped downward, descended to the castle's main floor and approached the guardroom near the huge front door with its heavy bar. She entered without knocking and found Captain Derek and another guard looking at some sort of plan. She recognized the man who had come to her room to bring her to her brother three mornings ago, a good bit younger than Captain Derek whose cock she had sucked with May's virginal blood on it. Vivid memories came flooding back. Tamsyn stood at the door, her sword sheathed, her breathing rapid. The men stared at her and the younger one started to draw his weapon but the Captain held his arm. "Yes," he said, "what is it you want?" "You have sworn fealty to the lord of this manor, have you not? Both of you?" she asked. "Of course," said the captain of the guards. "Who are you?" Tamsyn tossed her hair out from within the high collar of her brother's coat. "I am the rightful Duchess. You know my name." "Your brother?" asked the other guard, "what of your brother?" Tamsyn smiled. "Dead, I fear, quite dead. I want his body drawn and quartered when we are done here, He killed his father and the murdered innocents and violated women. Two others are to be treated the same." Derek shook his head. "I swore my loyalty to him, young lady, on my knee, to your brother." "Then you are discharged. You may leave my service and this keep. I will give you one hour. After that you will be considered an outlaw." "No," said Derek with a sneer, "I think not, you bitch." He drew his weapon and came around the table. "Stop him," ordered Tamsyn of the other guard, "stop him or you are damned as well." She drew her own sword and backed up against the door, heart racing. Tamsyn watched in horror and amazement as the young man drew his blade and sliced off his captain's head with a single movement. The severed head bounced back toward the guard's feet and the spurting body tumbled sideways and fell two steps from the girl. "Thank you," she said, sheathing her sword. "You are now captain. We are meeting in the hall. Come." She exhaled, hoping the hard part was over. “Our new life has begun, just begun.” To be continued... Archivist's Note: This author did not provide an email address so it will do the reader no good contacting the archive staff for further parts. Check back at a later time to see if there have been any updates to this story by the author. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life in anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider seeking professional help. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 74