Chapter Text
RIKK:
I hadn’t eaten in days. They didn’t bother force-feeding me. Not yet. They didn’t mind if I was a bit thin. But they made me drink some water every day. They didn’t want to lose their nightly entertainment, or their means of revenge.
Well, I had been the one unlucky bastard who’d got caught when we came to steal their women away, one day in the fall, two years ago. We were just a bunch of younger sons from various regions, who had done what our ancestors had been doing for ages. Only this time, we obviously had chosen the wrong village to attack. In the stories that were told at the campsites, the women had followed our fathers only too willingly. Here it had been different.
The second we emerged from the woods, somebody had rung the friggin’ alarm bell, and the men had come running back from the fields, much too soon. Yet we had managed to grab a gal each, and were on our way out, when I got hit over the head.
The first few days I had spent chained over a barrel, not able to move. I slept on it, got fed on it, got fucked on it. For a while I thought, and hoped, I’d die, too, chained to that barrel. Only I didn’t die. But I came pretty close. At least it felt that way. I tried to starve myself to death twice. They just waited till I was weak enough, and then stuffed food down my throat, like I was a goose.
Days later they freed me from that barrel and put me on a chain that they fastened around my right ankle. They warned me about resisting, though. One wrong move and I’d be back on the barrel, this time forever. I never resisted. When somebody entered the hut to fuck me, I got on hands and knees and offered him my ass. Or my mouth, whatever they wanted. I desperately wanted to die. It was the only thing I could think of.
I left the hut only once during all that time, to celebrate the anniversary of my capture. On that occasion I was passed around among then men, in the light of a giant campfire. That was seven days ago. I could take a lot by then; yet they’d managed to fuck me raw. The following days they let me recover. I used lots of that stinking salve they provided me with, but was still a bit tender back there. At least the pain was gone. This morning, they inserted that mean plug in my hole, preparing me for the night to come.
RAGEN:
The village was deserted. The peasants had fled, wisely. In the last two hours my men had gone through the small cottages and collected everything that might prove valuable or useful. It was a small heap, and mostly food. A few copper coins, some furs. One man, rather terrible to look at, clad in a threadbare, skimpy robe. He seemed to be of medium size, and rather thin, but other than that I could tell nothing about his looks. He was too dirty. Smelled something awful, too. Bolgar had found him chained to a pillar in a hut at the edge of the village. A prisoner, what else could he be.
No time to deal with him now. Together with the other spoils he was bound to a horse, and we rode on. When we made camp in the evening, I ordered two of my men to clean him up and bring him into my tent. As they returned with him, they were grinning broadly.
“What’s the matter, men? Has he told you a joke?”
One of them held a longish object into the air.
“We found that thing in his ass!”
It was a wooden dildo, crudely made, with a ridge that would make sure that it stayed where it was put. Looked quite uncomfortable. The prisoner showed no reaction, his gaze was directed down to the ground. He had dark hair, and his skin was very pale now that he was clean. Could be he had spent a long time in that hut. I put a finger under his chin, lifting his head. His eyes were blue, and there was no expression in them. Not really empty, no, more like guarded.
“On your knees,” I ordered. He obeyed instantly, and knelt there, waiting, his head bowed.
“Suck my dick.”
Without the slightest hesitation he opened my pants with nimble fingers and got my hardening cock out. He took it all. I wondered if he would be able to do that when it was fully erect. Well, I’d see. His mouth was warm, wet, and silky, his tongue smooth, working my pole diligently. He bobbed up and down on it expertly, without the least bit of teeth, and when it had reached his full length, he took it into his throat easily.
I grabbed his head, not too roughly, showing thus my appreciation, and began fucking his throat. His throat muscles really worked me. It didn’t take long, and I came, my dick buried deep in his throat. Ah, lovely. Very well done indeed.
“I’ll keep him for a while,” I told the pair, who’d enjoyed watching that little scene. “Put him in chains, and then you can go.”
I’d be back for more later. All that pillaging had made me hungry!
Munching on a lamb chop, I let that day pass again before my inner eye. All in all, it hadn’t been that bad. None of my men had been hurt, and we could use those blankets and provisions. And I really looked forward to seeing more of my prisoner, to trying out his ass. He’d sucked my cock so well, had to have had lots of practice. I wondered how he’d react when I fucked him, if he would get hard, and decided then that it didn’t matter. When I strolled back to my tent I even brought some meat and bread that I’d give him afterwards.
My men had chained him up good. Hands behind his back, feet together, ankles and wrists connected with a quite short chain. I unlocked them, and he stretched his limbs tentatively, groaning a bit. After a short while he got to his knees, and waited.
“Undress me,” I said.
He wasn’t very good at that, but he tried. Probably those villagers had kept him as a sex-slave only, always chained in that hut. His build would have been nice, if there had been a bit more meat on his body, and some more muscles. Well, he’d get them, working for me.
We were both naked now. I asked if he needed to piss or anything. He shook his head no. All that silence on his part unnerved me.
“Bilari’s guts! Can’t you speak?” I hollered at him.
He flinched and recoiled from me. I went after him. “What?!” I shouted. “Can you or can’t you?”
Trembling all over, he took a deep breath.
“I can speak. I’m sorry, master. I wasn’t allowed to, before.”
His voice was rough, unsteady. I could tell this was difficult for him. He must have been punished for talking, and punished hard. The multitude of scars on his back left no doubt about that.
“Well, you’re allowed to talk as it befits a slave,” I told him magnanimously, throwing him a challenging glance.
“Yes, master,” he replied, eyes again downcast.
“On your knees! Suck me!” I ordered.
He obeyed immediately, taking my already hard cock down his throat in one go. He WAS good at that! Then I ordered him on hands and knees, and prepped him fast but thoroughly, using some of the olive oil we’d acquired today. It was obvious that he had learned to relax his muscle.
I knelt down behind him and aimed my tool at his hole. Slowly I pushed in, all the way. He offered no resistance, but he was tight enough, his inner walls soft and hot, massaging my cock. I fucked him leisurely, for a long time. He never made a sound. That annoyed me a bit, so at one point I gave him a light punch to the kidneys, which elicited a short gasp from him. At the end I sped up and really slammed into him, and when I came it was explosive. I let my slave bear my weight for a while, till he started to tremble under me. Then I pulled out and stood up.
I cleaned myself up first, and then threw him the cloth. When he was done I gave him the food. Afterwards I allowed him into my blankets to keep me warm. I felt relaxed, comfortable.
RIKK:
He’s sleeping. Should I kill him now? And then what? Steal a horse, run away? Where to? I’m so weak. Finally, finally I’m out of that terrible hut. So far this has been much better. He didn’t hurt me. That one punch - laughable! After what I’ve been through he seemed nearly tender, considerate. He even prepped me with some oil. I guess I’ll wait for now. Try to shape up. I’ll have to see that he keeps me for himself. If he gives me to his men, I’m dead meat, so I’ll have to prove useful to him. Somehow. If only I weren’t so weak. So tired. I slept.
The next morning I changed my opinion of my master pretty fast. That asshole didn’t let me ride, no – I had to jog along behind him on a leash which was held by that big muscled animal that seemed to be his second in command. He was the one who’d gotten me out of that fucking hut. Bolgar, was his name. The ground was stony, and my bare feet hurt from the first step. And I became tired unbelievably fast. I’d been confined for so long, and the pace wasn’t exactly slow either. After a while my feet were killing me. I expected to see raw meat when I looked down, but they looked much better than they felt. It took another eternity until Bolgar shouted at Ragen, “He’s had enough! Look at his feet!”
Ragen turned around and scrutinized me derisively.
“Oh, already? Sooner than I thought. But then I guess he’s spent his time more riding than running lately!”
How his men laughed at that! I had to grind my teeth to keep my face from showing the hate that ran through my body like a heat wave. But Ragen had already turned his gaze away. Bolgar hadn’t. For a moment I was afraid that he’d seen through my façade. Then his icy stare changed into a lewd smile, and he winked at me suggestively. I swallowed. Took a step back, winced. Shit, my feet hurt! Grinning he gave my leash a little tug.
“Maybe you should get down on your knees for a bit, might be easier on your feet…”
He tugged again. I stumbled, but stayed upright. Helplessly I stared up at his bulky figure, then at Ragen for help. Only, that asshole was grinning, too. If they made me suck Bolgar now, it would be a question of a few hours till I would have to serve the rest of them, I thought. And I felt so weak. Way too weak to fight. Resigned, I sunk to my knees, waiting for it to begin. Bolgar directed his horse toward me, past me, to Ragen’s side. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I assumed they were discussing who’d get what of me.
“We’re taking a break, men. Eat something, and rest a bit!” Ragen shouted. Wow, they wanted to party. And I was going to be the main course. I couldn’t help it, tears were streaming down my face, and I managed barely to suppress my sobs. Yet I stayed on my knees. This would be hard enough without additional punishment.
Everybody got their blankets and provisions out. Ragen waved me over to sit with him. On my other side was Bolgar. Both offered me bits of their food. But I felt too apprehensive to eat. They exchanged glances. Then Ragen said:
“Relax, nothing will happen just now. Bolgar was merely jesting with you. Eat and rest!”
So I ate, drank some water, and got more tired the longer I sat there. After a while things were wrapped up. Bolgar reached for my hand and pulled me to my feet. I nearly screamed; they hurt more than before.
“I think he’s done with walking,” Bolgar said.
“He can ride with you,” replied Ragen, “I’ll take your stuff.”
There it was again. Ragen was giving me away. And to that big brute! That one could break me in two, easily. Unhappily I let him help me to sit behind him. I tried not to touch him, but that was impossible. Reluctantly I held onto him. We reached higher terrain fast. I’d gathered that we were heading for a mountain pass. As we got higher, the temperature dropped, and I huddled closer to Bolgar’s warmth. After all, I was wearing only that long shirt, so my legs were freezing.
At one point he must have noticed my shivering, or maybe the chattering of my teeth was disturbing him. We made a short stop, and he asked one of the men who was about my size for trousers. Also he gave me socks and boots. When I attempted to mount the horse again, he made me sit in front of him, and wrapped me up in his cape. At that point I didn’t mind. I was so frozen, tired, my feet hurt from walking, my ass from riding, that I let him hold me gladly. In the end, the rocking, even gait of the horse lulled me into sleep.