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From: genericjoe@offthebeatenpath.org
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Subject: {ASSM} GenericJoe's Images : 0032 (M+F BDSM nc)
Date: Tue,  5 Aug 2003 09:10:04 -0400
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Images by GenericJoe <genericjoe.org>

In deference to short pieces, to Suki's images from when I was first
finding my bdsm-self, I am going to work on a series of images, most
of which will have a bdsm theme of some kind or another, all short.
At least three a week (but I'd love to do them daily.)

As they are posted, the images will be archived at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/genericjoe/www/images/


0032

(M+F BDSM nc)

Lisa was glad the trip to the Lord's castle was short.  She had never
ridden a horse before, and this gelding, while gentle, was not used to
someone riding sidesaddle.  Two knights flanked her, and another ran
behind.  Leading the way was the Lord, with two knights riding next to,
and behind him.  She thought another knight was riding in the front,
but she couldn't see him from where she was.

John has been mad, and then embarrassed, as he had tried to deny the
Lord's right.  They were getting married tomorrow, God willing, and maybe
it was God that stayed John's hand and tongue so that they the Lord didn't
just kill him outright.  It was hard to marry a dead man.  And no man in
this county had married a virgin since Lord Borlin had gotten these lands.

She was deeply religious, and, unlike many of the peasant girls,
had protected her virginity for her future husband.  John had always
seemed like a likely candidate, and when he'd proposed, she'd said yes.
And that had led Lord Borlin to her town.

Borlin wasn't an unattractive man: he was a large, fat man, but strong
and physically capable.  He was friends with the king, having saved his
Majesty's life in a hunt.  He'd heard about their marriage and rode into
town to collect his "due".  And that was me, Lisa thought.

They stopped at the front of a small chalet near the castle. Borlin
dismounted, as well as the knights. The knight who had helped her into
the saddle helped her down, and they all led her into the small stone
building.

The inside was warm, and lit by fire and candlelight. It was one large
room, and a huge bed, fine blue sheets folded down, sat near the central
fire.  A small cook pot swung on the fire, and there were ornate but
comfortable chairs throughout the place.  It was dedicated to comfort,
she thought.  And to sex, she realized as she examined the bed.

Borlin removed his armor, and smiled at her.  "You know why you are here?"

"Yes," she said bitterly.  She didn't have to make it easy for him.

His eyes flashed happily at her. "I love them when they fight," he
chuckled.  His laugh was deep, hearty, and loud.  The laugh of a man
who was used to getting his way, and enjoyed the challenge and power of
forcing his way on others.

"You've got a simple choice, slut," he said.  "You can take off those
clothes and lie on that bed, and I'll give you a pleasant tupping like
you'll probably never have again.  Or, you can resist me -- which I would
prefer -- and I'll take your virginity like a thief in the night, and
give your cunt here to my men.  You know what they'd like, right girl."

She felt a line of fear run down her back as he spoke, and her legs
wouldn't move. "No.. .no..." she said.  This was all wrong, John was
supposed to do this for her.  She wasn't supposed to be here.  But she
knew it was this or no marriage; this or perhaps John would be killed
so they could take her.  Still she muttered "no," over and over.

Borlin walked up to her, and ran his hand down her face.  He kissed her,
forcing his tongue between her lips, mauling her breasts.  She slapped
him, and scratched his face.  He roared with his deep loud laughter,
"Grab her men, this will be fun."

Two of the knights, out of their armor now, held her arms.  Two others
began to tear at her clothes, ripping them off.  Borlin squeezed her
tits as they came into view, and stuck his huge paws between her legs,
feeling her dry virgin cunt.  He lifted her up with one hand, and slung
her over his shoulder.  She kicked and beat at him as he laughed.

He threw her down on the bed, and she lay there shocked.  One hand
gripped her cross, tightly, praying to Jesus to deliver her from evil.
Borlin stripped out of his clothes, and she saw his large cock, rampant
and dripping, ready for her.

Borlin held her legs in one hand, and spat on her cunt.  With his free
hand he rubbed the saliva in and positioned himself at her gateway. He
spread her legs with his two hands, bending her double.  "This will hurt
you more than it will me," he said, laughing.

Lisa gasped as a sharp pain passed in her cunt, and he was inside her
filling her up.  Tears strained her face, as he pounded in and out of her,
she beat him, wherever she could reach him, but her blows meant nothing.
He just laughed and winked at the knights who were undressing.

"Dear Jesus," she whispered as he fucked her, "please let me go, back
to John, back to love." She tried to envision it was John fucking her,
but he was never this brutal, or this strong.  He wasn't as large as
Lord Borlin either -- a fact Lisa knew she wasn't supposed to be aware of.

Her body betrayed her, lubricating, distending, becoming aroused.
She felt the shocks as he fucked her -- the orgasm, as her body shivered.
He laughed and groaned, and she felt his cum fill her up, squirt after
squirt after squirt.

He dismounted her then, and said to the men.  "Draw straws or go by
seniority.  I'll want another go in a few."

They fucked her then, over and over, and she came many times as she
grabbed her cross and prayed to a God that had abandoned her.

They gave her money and finery after the night was over.  As she rode
home, sore from the night of abuse, she pulled off her wooden cross and
threw it into the woods as they traveled.  She looked on her village
as she rode in.  There was nothing more to see.  John stood there
expectantly, but she no longer cared.

She allowed herself to marry him, in a rite performed by an itinerant
priest.  But it didn't matter what God thought, or John. She was done
with God, and perhaps, with men.




(C) GenericJoe, 2003
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/genericjoe/www/images/image0032.html

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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