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Tamsyn - 4
by Realoldbill (address withheld)

***

A violent gang threatens our heroine and her men plan 
a trap. (MMF, nc, rp, v)

***

Part 4: Tamsyn and the Outlaws

Brian of Malden pushed himself up off the little girl 
he was screwing and looked down at her young face. Her 
eyes were rolled back and her mouth was flopped open. 
"Shit," he said aloud, "the bitch croaked." He rammed 
in again, took his big hand off her thin throat, 
leaving red and blue marks, humped two or three more 
times and spewed out his spend in her corpse and then 
levered himself off her small body. 

She had been pretty good when she was waving her arms 
and kicking her feet and begging him not to hurt her. 
Damn shame, he thought as he wiped his cock on her 
thin leg. Might a'got a good price for her. He 
stumbled out of his big tent, tying up his codpiece 
and saw Len waiting, slobbering as usual.

"Ye kin go use her, Lenny, but she's dead."

"Ah, ah," gasped the big man, tossing out his huge 
member.

"Since all you do is ass fuck `em; don' suppose it 
really matters, do it?" He slapped the man on his wide 
back as he ducked to enter the tent and flip over the 
small body, its head lolling freely. "Get rid a'her 
when yer done," he yelled at the man's shambling form 
as the tent flap fell.

Brian looked where the dead girl's young mother was 
tied between two trees and being used by a pair of his 
men, her legs swinging back and forth as they raped 
her fore and aft. He chuckled to himself because he 
had her farmer husband tied facing her so he had to 
watch the lean woman being ravaged by his score of 
outlaws. 

"Mark!" the big man yelped, "come over here."

The lean man trotted over, his longbow across his 
back, and yanked his forelock. "Sir," he said with a 
small bow.

'Y'still wants to join m'band?" Brian asked him.

"Yes sir," the man said, glancing at the flailing 
woman. "They's all good lads ain' they? Havin' their 
fun."

The woman being raped screeched again and slumped 
unconscious as the man in her anus pulled free and 
sprayed her back. The one in her cunny held her hips 
and kept right on rutting, bouncing her up and down, 
her limbs flapping like those of a poorly strung doll 
and thick juices running down her legs.

"All right. Here's the thing," said Brian, rubbing his 
chin. "I'm going to count to twenty, slow and steady, 
and if you can put four, no five, five arrows in that 
man from here, about twenty paces, I'll take you and 
you'll get a full share." He pointed to the farmer 
bound to the tree.

"Five in him by the time you get to twenty. I can do 
that." He swung his bow around, bent and strung it, 
set his quiver by his leg and nocked the first arrow 
in place. "Ready," he said.

"One," said Brian with a smile. "Two, three."

Mark let fly and by the time Brain said "twelve" the 
man tied to the tree had stopped screaming, had three 
arrows in him and another had nicked his forehead. The 
fifth hit buried itself in the dying man's gut and the 
next in his groin as Brain said, "Eighteen and enough. 
Good shooting, lad. You'll do fine." 

Mark stepped up and pulled his arrows out of the dying 
man's body, cutting some of them free, wiped them on 
the farmer's spotty beard and put them back in his 
quiver. Then he approached the woman hanging between 
the two trees and slapped her face back and forth 
until she awoke. She gasped as he squeezed her bare 
breast and drove his hard cock up into her, lifting 
her off her feet. Her eyes grew large indeed when she 
saw what had happened to her man who hung from his 
ropes, bleeding from several wounds, barely twitching.

Meanwhile, some five miles off, Tamsyn looked around 
the table as the fire in the massive chimney crackled 
behind her. "Everyone's here now, good," she said. "I 
guess you've all heard we've lost another farm. The 
boy came in last night, driving his sheep. Poor lad. 
Said he watched them haul off his people including his 
little sister and burn the place after they stripped 
it."

"That makes five," said Gregory, "and they're getting 
closer."

"I want you to go out in pairs, a knight and a guard, 
along with one of the big wagons, and persuade the 
last three farms to pack up what they can and come 
inside the walls. Drive in all their animals if you 
can." Tamsyn looked around and saw sad faces. "The 
duke has written that he cannot spare any men until 
spring."

"Did the boy say how many there were?" asked Roth.

Tamsyn shook her head. 'A lot, dozens he said. I asked 
him, but he was very scared."

"That trapper we talked to said he thought thirty or 
so," said Robert, the newest and youngest of the 
knights, proud of being accepted by this company and 
by the brave woman to whom he had sworn his fealty as 
well as his love.

"Probably," said Tamsyn grimly. "They are too many for 
us to attack with our little army." She looked around; 
three knights of varying degrees of experience, eight 
guards and three of them only half trained, and the 
two old pikemen who had been her father's retainers. 
The odds were three to one against her, at least three 
to one. But, thought she, I have no choice. This had 
to stop.

"Now," she said, "you won't like this, neither do I, 
but until we've killed or chased off this bunch, no 
sex. I've sworn an oath at the altar. Understand, 
none." She looked around and saw them all nod 
agreement. "It will make you stronger, and madder as 
well." She showed a good smile. "Go pray. It can't 
hurt."

Several men laughed, rather hollowly.

She made the assignments and sent out her knights, 
feeling queasy about doing it, but hoping there was 
time and then summoned Roxanne. The flaxen haired girl 
appeared, smiling as usual, and bowed to her mistress.

"Love," she said to Roxanne, stroking back her fine 
hair, "I have told the men. They understood. Until 
this outlaw business is done, no dalliance, none. I 
want you to promise to stay in your own bed and 
alone."

The lush girl licked her lips and pouted. "Not even 
between us?"

Tamysn shook her head. "We must concentrate; we must 
be strong."

By the end of the week most of the men and both of the 
women were famished for love. The tavern girls were 
complaining as well. Two of the three farms had been 
cleared and the last and biggest was in the process of 
packing up. The walls had been mended, new firing 
slits had been built, and the men and older boys 
within were all being armed and trained, from gray 
beards to striplings, even if their own weapons were 
pitchforks and pruning hooks. The smith was producing 
iron-tipped pikes as fast as he could.

When Brian of Malden discovered what Tamsyn was about, 
he was furious. He had left the richest farms until 
last so they could get in all of their harvest and now 
they were being stripped, stolen from him. The manor 
became his single goal, and he had his men look to 
their weapons.

By the last week of November, Brian and his outlaw 
band were ready, and so, she prayed every day, was 
Tamsyn. She and Gregory had sat and talked and planned 
and avoided her bed until very late several nights. 
They ached for each other knowing how well their 
bodies fit together and how often they had pleasured 
each other. 

When the outlaws were sighted crossing the meadow in 
two large groups, the alarm bells were sounded, the 
women and children barricaded themselves as they had 
been trained, in both the kirk and the manse, and the 
men and boys grabbed their pikes, other weapons and 
the tools and ran to their positions, forming a three-
sided trap, stomachs churning. Tamsyn's plan was 
daring and depended on cooperation. The front gate was 
stoutly defended with bows and crossbows, even balls 
of Greek fire, and the outlaws were nearly invited to 
try the narrow back entrance in the wooden walls, 
which appeared almost unprotected, just as she and 
Gregory had planned.

When Brian and his howling band came charging through 
that yielding portal, they were surprised to find the 
heavy gate clanging shut behind them while in front of 
them stood a double line of yeomen with pikes and 
pitchforks. Another group of determined looking men 
filed in behind them. The knights and guards attacked 
from the flanks, hewing and hacking, while the keep's 
farmers advanced in good order, stomping on the hard 
ground as they had been taught. 

For the surrounded outlaws it was quickly every man 
for himself and within ten minutes the ground was 
littered with their bleeding bodies while several were 
being pulled down from the walls and battlements by 
men with pruning hooks to be skewered on newly forged 
pikes. The fight was short and bloody.

Brian himself was taken alive but wounded and strung 
up on the gibbet by the main entrance and left to 
strangle and bleed to death. Two other men were taken 
alive, and Roth beheaded them, one right after the 
other. The outlaw's bodies were loaded into a wagon 
and taken to the wide stream. Then Tamsyn had Brian's 
head mounted on a pike and taken out in the forest to 
his camp for the women there to see. They scattered 
like wraiths.

They totaled up what Gregory called the butcher's bill 
and found that two of their men had been killed, 
fourteen wounded, one of whom lost an arm, and a young 
boy who was probably going to die from a head blow 
that crushed in the side of his skull. Robert, Tamsyn 
newest knight, had taken an arrow through the back of 
his thigh, and Roxanne bandaged him up and took him to 
her bed, praising his bravery.

Then it was Tamsyn's turn to succor her brave knights. 
The night of the battle, she did all three and then 
slept with brave Gregory and coupled with him deep in 
the dark and then joyously in the dawn. The next 
night, Roth came smiling into her bedchamber and was 
greeted by his naked mistress. His heart stopped and 
his mouth fell open as she went to her knees, opened 
his bulging codpiece and licked his aching member. 
Their mating was long and strenuous and when they both 
were spent and gasping at each other, sleep came 
quickly.

Tamsyn awoke with the dawn as usual, and looked with 
longing a Roth's fine body and his rigid prick which 
stood high and proud in the cool air. She felt a 
tingle in her loins, smiled to herself, swung a long 
leg across her knight's body, and on her knees mounted 
his thick manhood, screwing herself down until she was 
thoroughly impaled. The man's eyes snapped open and he 
smiled broadly as his mistress began to ride him.

Things were getting back to normal.

Continued in part 5...

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