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Tamsyn - 6
by Realoldbill (no address provided)

***

Captured and tortured by her foul neighbor, Tamnsyn 
has to fight for her life while awaiting her rescuers. 
(Mf, nc, rp, v, tor)

***

PART 6: Tamsyn's Ordeal

The desperate girl struggled against her heavy iron 
manacles, rubbing raw the skin on her wrists, arching 
her body and trying to avoid the cold water that 
seeped down the rough stone wall behind her. She was 
nearly naked, her fine shift in tatters and her feet 
bare. Her high breasts, soft belly and mounded thighs 
were crisscrossed with welts, bruises, bright red 
stripes and streaks of blood from the whipping she had 
endured. Although it was growing dark, she was sure 
her men would be out seeking her and would risk their 
lives to save her, and she knew that somehow she had 
to hold out despite the pain and indignation she was 
suffering. Patience had seldom been one of her 
virtues.

Down the creaking stairs from ground level came her 
tormentor, the ambitious Lord Jeffers, her lustful 
neighbor to the north whose offers she had repeatedly 
rejected. His men had captured her as she hunted in 
her own woods, killing two of her beaters and hauling 
her off to a dungeon on the lower reaches of a ruined 
castle that was probably old when the Romans were 
about. There they had stripped off her boots and 
britches and pawed her relentlessly until their lord 
arrived, cackling and telling her what was going to 
happen to her and how they planned to use her ripe 
body and all her orifices.

Lord Jeffers put down his large cup and his lantern, 
wiped his mouth with his gloved hand and picked up his 
many-tailed whip. He stalked before the young woman, 
lifted her chin and kissed her mouth hard and 
viciously, biting her lower lip and sticking his 
tongue down her throat. "Ready to sign, bitch?" he 
asked, yanking on her long hair and banging her head 
back against the wall as he kneed her groin.

Tamsyn spat in his face and he backhanded her, 
bringing blood to her mouth.  "Maguire!" he said 
loudly, and the man who had come down into the cellar 
with him stepped forward where the girl could see him. 
She nearly vomited and trembled despite her efforts to 
calm herself.

He was huge and hulking, his face grotesque, twisted 
and burned, his mouth a permanent snarl and one eye 
just an empty hole. He weighed nearly twenty stone and 
stood well over six and half feet in height, a 
veritable giant in a leather jerkin, bulging cod-piece 
and high-laced boots. To Tamsyn he looked like 
something that had escaped from a bad dream.

"Show her your pride," said Lord Jeffers with a smirk. 

The man made what he thought was a smile and unlaced 
the leather pouch over his privates to reveal his 
grossly swollen male member. It flopped out and hung 
limply, arched over his globular scrotum. It appeared 
to be as long as the girl's forearm and as thick as 
her sword wrist. She shuddered and looked away from 
the crooked slab of liverish meat.

"There, my lady, is your new lover. Are you willing to 
serve him as a good woman should?" Jeffers prodded her 
belly with his whip. "Will you do your duty? Let him 
put a fine baby in there?"

Tamsyn looked away from the man's groin and into Lord 
Jeffers' bearded face. "I'll have you drawn and 
quartered, you vile bastard, after I feed you your 
cods," she snarled, hoping it concealed her fear. The 
huge man made her blood run cold, and his turgid cock 
was beyond comprehension and it seemed to be swaying 
and swelling.

He laughed and yanked out a tuft of her pubic hair. 
"Maguire can quarter you effortlessly with his crooked 
prick; it's a true cudgel when riled. Give me what I 
need, what I must have right now, this day: your wood 
lots, high pastures and water rights, and I will set 
you free, almost untouched, barely used, eh? Refuse, 
and he will be just the first of my men to rape you. I 
have many men, you know, and I will give you to them 
if you survive Maguire's attentions. You'll bleed from 
every hole before I'm done with you. You'll die with a 
stiff cock in your mouth and ass."

"Go to hell," said Tamsyn, fearing her voice might 
break as her gaze was drawn to the man who was 
stroking his immense phallus with both hands and 
drooling in delight. It was getting fatter and 
straighter, pointing up at her nose and oozing out a 
colorless cream, the gross head now darkly purple and 
hugely swollen.

Jeffers lashed her twice, back and forth across her 
lean body, flicking out bits of flesh with the knots 
on the ends of his whip strands. Tamsyn inhaled but 
refused to either cry out or beg.

The girl bit her lip and closed her eyes as her left 
nipple seemed to flare with agony when he snapped his 
whip again. She looked down and saw that it was 
bleeding, seemingly torn by the lash. Her wrists were 
chafing in the irons stretched well above her head so 
that her toes barely touched the stone floor. Her 
shoulders screamed for release and her brain was 
overloaded with agony and seemed to blank out reality 
in a veil of shock.

Lord Jeffers reached out and twisted the bloody 
nipple, stretching it out as though he was about to 
tear it off. "Chose, bitch," he demanded. 'Sign now or 
I let him have you, plow you like a barren field."

"I cannot," Tamsyn said, voice trembling. "You should 
understand, fool. My brother is the rightful lord of 
the manor. Only he can give up any of the land or 
chattels."

"Shit on your puking brother. Shall I bring him here 
and let Maguire rape him, eh?"

Tamsyn shook her head. "I cannot sign." It was a lie, 
but, she hoped, a clever one that might make her 
tormenter pause. She tried to control her breathing 
and ignore her situation as well as the waves of pain.

Lord Jeffers snorted and stepped back, nodding to the 
huge man who now stood with his rigid prick in his 
hand, its purple head dripping in anticipation, the 
thick shaft knotted with pulsing veins. The nobleman 
untied the rope and forced Tamsyn down to her knees, 
keeping her arms still taut above her head, and then 
said to his misshapen servant, "Just her mouth this 
time, Maguire. Understand, just her mouth."

The shambling man grunted and nodded. He grabbed 
Tamsyn's long hair, yanked her head back and put the 
huge crown of his monstrous ram at her lips, rubbing 
from side to side and trying to pry them open. When 
that didn't work, he clamped her nose with his fingers 
and when she had to breathe, in went his cock head and 
two of three inches of gnarled shaft. He laughed 
gutturally as she tried to bite him futilely or shake 
him off.

Tamsyn gagged and choked as the giant held her head 
between his huge hands and began moving her mouth up 
and down his thrusting rod, grunting with pleasure. 
She felt as if her jaws had come unhinged, like she 
had a whole apple in her mouth, and she snorted for 
breath, afraid he would try to shove his foul ram down 
her throat and suffocate her. Fear rose in her breast 
and her heart thundered in her chest as the hard 
ridged glans moved to and fro between her stretched 
lips, and the giant grunted with pleasure.

Her eyes flickered to the lean nobleman standing back 
and sipping his wine, and she gasped for air every 
time the man fucking her mouth eased his blunt-headed 
weapon back from her esophagus only to press it in 
again with a deep groan, twisting her long hair to 
keep her head in place, snorting with effort.

"Ah, ah, ah," Maguire grunted, slobbering over the 
girl's upturned face and then crying out like a beaten 
animal as he ejaculated, filling her mouth and then 
spraying her face and hair with his spew. Tamsyn spit 
out his foul spend, and the giant used her long hair 
to wipe his deflating cock, making huffing sounds that 
might have been a laugh.

"Enjoy that, did you?" asked Jeffers, lifting her chin 
and smiling into her jism-splotched face. "Next he 
will use your whore-cunny and then, if you still 
refuse, my servant will enter your body from the back 
and, I greatly fear, will rip your guts to shreds and 
probably kill you. Every woman he had ass raped for me 
had died, died in agony, bled to death I suppose."

Tamsyn spat again and wiped her face on her 
upstretched arms and shoulder, her whole body shaking. 
Where were they, her loyal knights, her proud lovers?

Lord Jeffers pulled the rope so that she was forced to 
stand again, yanked it still more and tied it off when 
she was on her toes. Then he turned her about so her 
face was to the wall, stepped back and lashed her from 
buttocks to shoulders, ripping apart what little cloth 
still covered her back and producing stripe after 
stripe on her fair skin.

"Auugh," said the hulking Maguire, pointing at the 
broken roof. Sleet had begun to pour in on him and the 
stricken girl while the lord stood under the eaves, 
breathing hard from his exertion.

"Bring her along," Jeffers said, tossing a cord to the 
giant. Maguire put a noose about Tamsyn's neck, 
released the rope that held her arms high and then 
dragged her up the stone steps and out across the 
meadow toward the castle of Lord Jeffers who hurried 
along before them, his cape above his head as the ice 
hammered down.

The giant dragged Tamsyn into the dark stable and tied 
her to a thick post with the rope still looped about 
her throat, another between her legs and the one tied 
to her wrist irons. The cold rain had soothed her 
wounds, but now she shivered and her teeth chattered 
as she was bound to the rough-hewn, foot-square post. 
The hulking man grinned at her, showing his nearly 
toothless mouth, pawed her breasts roughly and then 
shambled away, leaving the battered girl in the dark, 
with a thick hemp rope pressed into her tender folds.

Heat from the animals' bodies made the stable 
tolerable and after awhile, still dripping wet, Tamsyn 
slumped back and dozed despite her hurts and her 
hunger. She awoke several times during that long 
night, trying to move so her coarse bonds did not rub 
so hard on her throat, breasts, vulva and cramping 
legs. In the dawn, having no choice, she spread her 
feet and urinated where she was bound, stretching up 
on her toes as best she could and feeling her crusted 
stripes awaken and the multitude of pains return. The 
sun was well up on the second day of her captivity 
when Lord Jeffers and his giant servant strode into 
the stable.

"Give her a drink," the smiling nobleman told his man. 
Maguire dipped a leather bucket into the horse trough 
and threw the water into Tamsyn's face. Both men 
laughed as the girl licked in what she could and the 
water dripped from her firm nipples. The action made 
her recall being in her brother's cell before he 
tortured her.

"Now," said Jeffers, "after a good night's rest, I am 
sure you are more reasonable. Ready to sign?"

Tamsyn shook her head, a bit disappointed that her 
knights had not arrived to rescue her. Then from the 
purse at his waist Lord Jeffers produced two barbed 
fishhooks and a thin gold chain with a bell and some 
weights hanging from it, the kind fishermen used as 
sinkers. He smiled at Tamsyn, grasped her left breast, 
lifted it, squeezed her nipple until it was well 
extended and then pierced it with one of the large 
fishhooks.

Tamsyn gasped and closed her eyes as the barbed end 
poked free of her flesh, a fresh pain surged through 
her, and she ground her teeth and held back her 
scream.

Lord Jeffers chuckled as she grasped her other breast, 
squeezed hard and then stuck the second hook behind 
the jutting and damaged nipple. He hung the chain from 
the looped eyes and flicked the dangling bell. "Come 
Maguire," he said, well pleased with his work, "come; 
I've belled the cat. Let us leave her to ponder her 
fate and see if our breakfast is ready."

Tamsyn tried to hold still, but the pain in her 
breasts was constant and deep, and she had to writhe 
and when she did, she made it worse as the weights 
pulled at her injured nipples and the tiny bell 
tinkled at her agony. She clamped her jaw and 
attempted to ignore the pain and stretch her bonds, 
moving as best she could from side to side, but that 
effort rubbed at her outer labia and made the weights 
flop about and yank at her torn breasts so she 
relented and leaned back against the post, closed her 
eyes and prayed for deliverance as tears filled her 
eyes and her vagina pulsed in abraded agony. She was 
sure they were out looking for her and she hoped they 
would hurry. The idea of that giant sticking his foul 
member in her turned her stomach.

An hour or so later, Jeffers and the shambling Maguire 
stalked into the barn and the nobleman hooked a finger 
under the golden chain and pulled on it. Tamsyn closed 
her eyes as her breasts were stretched out and it felt 
as if her nipples might be torn from her chest. "Sign, 
bitch, and all this playing ends," the man demanded 
loudly, yanking the chain right and left.

Tamsyn shook her head and swallowed hard. A small 
voice inside made her wonder how long she could resist 
and called her a fool.

Jeffers nodded to the waiting Maguire who unleashed 
his cock, stroked the massive member to crooked 
rigidity and came to stand before the agonized girl. 
He spat in his hand, swiped at his glans, bent his 
knees, pulled the thick rope aside and set his 
quivering ram at Tamsyn's sore pudenda, wriggling it 
into her bruised labia and finding the entrance to her 
warm and tender vagina.

Maguire looked at his master, breathing hard, his 
knees bent and the head of his cock straining to open 
the woman's sex, her rounded buttocks in his calloused 
hands. Jeffers laughed, said, "Last chance, Tamsyn. 
Yield!"

"Never," she cried, tensing every muscle she could 
summon.

Jeffers nodded and the hulking man opened his mouth 
and thrust as hard as he could, tearing the young 
woman open and sinking his thick spear into her soft 
tissues, dividing them and stretching her, tearing his 
way into her until he was buried in her groin, his 
massive balls hard against her body as he lifted her 
off the floor and straightened his legs.

"Ahhh," sighed the man, grasping the thick pole the 
girl was bound to, and he began to move in and out of 
her torn body, pulling her flesh out with him and then 
pressing her cunny lips back into her with each thrust 
that nearly filled her vulva completely and even 
rubbed at her tiny clitoris. Tamsyn closed her eyes 
and in her mind saw a bull savaging her relentlessly.

Tamsyn willed herself to relax and take the pounding; 
slumping on the rapist's fleshy spear and feeling him 
lift her off her feet with each half-foot thrust. Rape 
was the first sex she had known, but this was far 
worse than her violent deflowering at her mad 
brother's hands. She was being ruined and she knew it, 
could feel her privates being torn and bruised.

"Gad, Tamsyn," Jeffers said loudly as he watched his 
man hump the young woman, making her whole body 
shudder and jerk on his crooked spear "I should have 
let your legs free so you could wrap them about your 
eager lover." He laughed gleefully, aroused by the 
sight.

Maguire came quickly, in fewer than twenty strokes, 
and exploded in Tamsyn's depths, pressing hard and 
crying out with release, a scream of triumph that 
shook the rafters. He rammed two or three more times, 
lifting and jolting her, squishing out his jism and 
then let his massive manhood slip from her battered 
cunny followed by a gush of his spend which coursed 
down the girl's trembling legs.

Lord Jeffers stepped forward, grabbed Tamsyn's chin 
and lifted it so their faces almost touched. "How many 
times can you take that sort of love?"

The girl shuddered and shook her head, feeling 
eviscerated. I have been abandoned, she despaired.

"He will be ready in an hour or so and we will be 
back," Jeffers said, yanking on the thin chain again. 
"Perhaps I'll let him put you on the ground and mount 
you that way. He can crush you as well as fuck you. 
Imagine what he will feel like between your thighs." 
He laughed and patted his belly.

Violated and furious, Tamsyn watched the men leave the 
stable and twisted her violated body fiercely. The 
rope about her loins and legs yielded, having been 
pulled and stretched by the giant's hard fucking 
motions, and Tamsyn kicked at it, got a knee in the 
loop and lifted her legs so that soon her manacled 
hands were free. She worked on the knot by her ear and 
quickly loosed that as well. She stumbled to the horse 
trough and drank and then dunked her tortured tits in 
the cool water and closed her eyes, mouthing a small 
prayer for strength.

Then she moved back into a stall and examined her 
heavy handcuffs. She found they were locked by an iron 
lever that had to be lifted and turned at the same 
time. After trying several things, she wedged the 
lever's ear in a cracked board, pulled and turned and 
her hands were free. She rubbed her wrists, heard her 
tormenters approaching and looked for a weapon.

She found two, a wooden handled sickle that hung on 
the wall and an iron-pronged pitchfork. She scrambled 
back to the post, stood still, one hand on the 
pitchfork while the other held the rope about her, and 
the men entered with barely a glance in her direction. 
When they were before her, Tamsyn grasped the hay 
fork's long handle with both hands and thrust it with 
all her might into Maguire's thick body, shoving the 
five iron points all the way through him as he 
stumbled back, screeching.

Then, as she heard Jeffers draw his sword with a 
ringing hiss, she picked up her sickle and spun to 
face him. He attacked with a roar. Tamsyn sidestepped, 
ducked under his wild swing and then drove the 
sickle's curved bade upward into the man's back. He 
screamed and reached around to pull it free, dropping 
his sword.

The girl picked it up and danced in front of the 
injured nobleman, her wounds forgotten, the grimace of 
a smile on her face, ignoring his pain and the 
tinkling bell. "Ready to die?" she demanded loudly, 
poking at him with his own blade. "Want time to pray?" 
She thrust and stabbed, wounding him in the thigh and 
then in the shoulder. He went to his knees and Tamsyn 
saw that his giant servant had managed to pull the 
bloody pitchfork from his body and get to his feet, 
leaning on a stall barrier, bleeding from several deep 
wounds.

She stepped back, reached up and slashed him across 
the face, barely missing his one eye but cutting open 
his cheek and nose, and then thrust deeply into his 
groin, in to the fancy hilt, pulled her blade free and 
spun to see Lord Jeffers stumble to his feet, the 
sickle still buried in his back as Maguire screamed 
and fell, spurting blood, both hands on his punctured 
belly.

"No, please," Jeffers cried, his hands out before him 
as he backed away from the advancing young woman, her 
lush body nearly bare and her breasts bobbling from 
the chain weights. "Have mercy." He tripped and nearly 
fell, still imploring, begging.

Tamsyn smiled as she slashed at his hands and then 
thrust into his belly, puncturing him, took a step 
forward and sank her long blade to the hilt, crying 
out with her anger.

"Mercy," she snarled at him as he sank back to his 
knees. "Of course." She tugged on the sword and saw 
the bleeding man look over her shoulder and ducked 
aside just as Maguire swung an ax at her head and 
cleaved his master open where his neck met his 
shoulder, smashing through Jeffers' clavicle and 
burying the ax head in the man's chest. 

Tamsyn stepped away, looking for another weapon as the 
giant roared and turned toward her, a crazed look on 
his disfigured face, the bloody ax in one huge hand 
while the other held his guts together. Then someone's 
arm was about her, and she saw Gregory step out and 
skewer Maguire on his heavy blade and then hack his 
head from his body with a two-handed blow. She turned 
away into Roth's encircling arms as the man's gross 
body collapsed and his head rolled across the stable 
floor.

"Sorry it took us so long," said the man holding his 
nearly naked mistress. "But you seemed to be holding 
your own."

"I'm freezing," she said. "Give me your cloak."

"Robert and your men are clearing the castle," Gregory 
said, as he wiped his blade with some straw. 'What's 
this?" He fingered the gold chain between Tamsyn's 
injured breasts.

"Get those weights and that stupid bell off, please," 
she said as Roth put his cloak on her shoulders. 
"We'll have to push those hooks on through but not 
now."

A few minutes later, as Robert's men where hauling the 
bodies of Jeffers' guards and retainers out into the 
courtyard, the man's wife and children came and stood 
before her.

"You are a widow," Tamsyn said to her, holding her 
cloak to her damaged body. "I'm sorry. What are your 
dower rights?"

"I have two cottages and the land near the hills, a 
hundred acres of so. It adjoins my father's land. I am 
sorry too." The woman, not much older than Tamsyn, 
licked her lips and held her two young children to her 
legs.

"You can see what he did to me. He beat me with a 
whip, put these hooks in me and then had his man, that 
Maguire, violate me."

The woman bit her lips and shook her head.

"He has a brother, doesn't he, your late husband?" 
asked Tamsyn.

The widow shook her head. "I will sign it all to you 
in my son's name."

And so it was done, and Tamsyn thus became one of the 
largest landholders in the shire. Her body healed and 
even the punctures in her lovely breasts were 
imperceptible in a month and by then she was enjoying 
her knights in their usual rotation and having them 
lick her wounds from time to time as payment for 
taking so long to find her.

Continued in part 7...?

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.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 74