"The Queen's Assassin" (closed)

[HumanBean]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

The Dead Coast
About 22 hours from Survival Bay

Shortly after Sunrise:

"Naked...?" Andrea challenged Hugo when he accused her of having enjoyed watching him fight in the pits naked. "You don't have anything of note to see naked, you animal."

Hugo left her with her shackles still linked to the hook in the bulkhead. He knew there was nothing keeping her from getting free of the hook. He didn't care if she got loose. She wasn't going anywhere. Leaping out a window into the waters of the Dead Coast would leave her as dead as the coast itself. The boat was about 8 miles from shore. The waters here were infested with sharks. And Andrea was wearing heavy, iron shackles around her wrists.

He wasn't too worried about her finding a weapon either. Sure, there were plenty of them in the cabin. But he would peek at her through a hole in the bulkhead before heading inside. If she looked as though she'd armed herself, he'd know. Or he hoped he would know.

It was actually closer to two hours, not one, before Hugo returned to his cabin. He surveyed her through the hole before bursting through the door. He asked, "Ready to do this again, m'lady?"

Andrea attempted to fight Hugo off, but he was simply too strong for her. And, to be honest, he almost wondered whether she was actually trying or not. He got control of her again, her back to his front. This time, though, Hugo didn't lay her down on her betty and tits, even though he did pull her top down again to expose the latter.

This time, he walked her onto the bed on her knees. He pressed her front side against the upright cushions that allowed his bed to function as a couch, too. She fought his grasp, but he managed to again hook the shackles onto a hook. Once she'd lost control of her hands, Hugo lifted her dress and shift, lowered his trousers and braie, found her pussy with his cock, and fucked her hard, fast, and deep yet again.

This time, Andrea didn't have a bed or bedding to hide her face in. As he was cumming inside her, Hugo thought he might have sense some satisfaction in her sounds and body language. Could she have been enjoying this, too? He wasn't fucking Andrea so that she could enjoy the euphoria that he was. But did he not want her to cum? He hadn't really thought about it.

Hugo totally slumped forward upon Andrea's backside as he rode out his orgasm. He knew he was heavy on her but didn't care. If she passed out, unable to draw enough air, she'd come to later. He wasn't trying to kill her after all.

When he regained himself, Hugo pulled out of her warmth and tightness. He flipped her roughly around to face him. He grabbed Andrea's chin in one hand as the other gripped a tit tight enough to make her grimace. He warned, "Spit on my again, and I'll brand your nipples. Understand?"

Hugo forced Andreas knees apart and her feet to his sides. Then, with his cock in his hand, he found Andrea's hole again and rammed deep inside her in once thrust. He grunted in satisfaction at the feel of her. Then, he grasped her hips in his powerful hands and he began fucking her again.

 

[HumanBean]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

Smuggler's Village
On the coastline of The Long Sea
(Northwest of Survival Bay)

Late Afternoon, at the rocky outcrop south of the village:

Rolph and five others had barely gotten to and hid behind the rocky outcrop before the slavers' scouts passed by. The train was less than a mile behind and passed by as well.

The train turned out to be larger than Rolph had expected. There were 6 slavers up front, half swordsmen and half archers. 2 heavy wagons of freight followed. Each was pulled by 4 oxen and included 2 armed men onboard.

Then came the presumed captives. Rolph didn't want to think of them as slaves. That, of course, was what he was trying to prevent them from becoming. A wagon drawn by 4 horses contained mostly younger women. Rolph counted 8 heads, but there could have been more captives sitting in the wagon's bottom.

Behind the wagons were 2 rope lines of mostly older women and males of all ages. There were 14 hostages bound at the wrists and to one another. Rolph was shocked by the total number of more than two dozen captives. He'd expected maybe a third of that.

Those walking on the rope line looked exhausted. Some of them looked barely able to keep on their feet. One man in the middle stumbled repeated on weakened legs. He fell three separate times just during the time that Rolph could see him. The slaves around him hurried to get him back on his feet to prevent him from being dragged too far.

The scene angered Rolph far more than he had been throughout the mission thus far. He wanted to order his little squad across the river right now. But that would make no sense. They needed to get the slavers trapped between the various squads.

When the train was passing over a slight rise and out of sight, Rolph finally gestured the others back onto their horses. They rode to the river and crossed it. The river was shallow and quick here, but it was the only place to cross that didn't have dangers.

The horses barely left their feet before they found ground on the other shore and climbed out. Most of the six warriors left their horses mid-stream. They mounted them again on the other side.

"Wait here," Rolph told them. He hadn't mounted his horse again, instead handing the reins to one of Greta's swordsmen. "I'll signal you."

He ran ahead down the road. Halfway to the crown of the hill, he faded into the shrubs and grass. Several minutes passed before Rolph stepped out into the road and into view. He waved them forward frantically.

The battle had begun.


At the village, moments earlier:

The slavers' scouts reached the bridge and stopped before crossing. The scene they found was very different from the one they saw now. The scouts had been run off by Rolph and a squad of archers the day before. There'd been a dozen tents set up. Now there was one. Fires had been roasting the carcasses of multiple goats and lambs. Now there was just one fire burning before that one tent. And there were only eight villagers to be seen. They were rummaging through their village's remains for valuables that hadn't been destroyed.

Rolph and Greta had set a scene meant to reassure the slavers: that raiders had destroyed the village, taken what they'd wanted, and left. Greta's boats in the shallow waters to the east of the river's mouth had been decorated with fishing gear to appear as nothing more than fishing boats.

Upon seeing the scouts, the villagers gathered far away from the bridge. They bore shovels, rakes, and pitchforks, seemingly their only weapons. While armed, their appearance was meant to portray fear.

In reality, many of them were exactly that: frightened. Rolph had intentionally picked older men and women and a couple of young children to represent the village's survivors. They had orders to flee to the west as soon as the battle erupted.

Rolph had ordered Philip to remain in bed, healing in the only tent left standing. He'd told his superior Lord. "With respect, m'lord, fuck off. I've fought with worse injuries than this little hole in my leg."

Philip had taken command of the squad hiding in the gulley on the west side of the river where the attack was supposed to begin. He wasn't an archer, but he was good with the spear. Greta's boats had had a few of them. He'd also had the tips of some tent poles sharpened. They weren't well balanced, but Philip thought he could make them work.

The train came to a stop atop the last little rise before the village. One of the scouts had remained at the bridge. The other had ridden back to report. After a moment, the train began forward again. Philip peeks through the foliage atop the gulley's rim. He saw very little apprehension amongst the slavers. He thought to himself, So far, so good.

After another couple of minutes, the train reached the bridge. And the battle began.

The first attack came from a foursome of archers. They'd been hidden in the horizontal supports on the underside of the bridge. They dropped into the waist high water, pulled back their bowstrings, and released their missiles. Each hit a scout or mounted slaver, taking them down.

As they quickly notched more arrows, Philip's archers rose and unloaded their own salvo. More slavers fell. In addition, mayhem erupted. That was a good thing for the good guys. Riders spun their horses. Horses reared and shed their riders.

From the tent came more archers, these with fire arrows. They lit their missiles at the fire before the tent. They loosed them through the air, sending them over the train into the grain field. In the seconds to come, the long stretch of unharvested stalks would become a wall of flame.

Almost simultaneously, ballistae left the boats off shore. One hit a still-mounted slaver in the chest, throwing him into the rider behind him, who was also killed by it. Another missile almost cleanly severed a rider's leg before entering the horse's body, causing it to rear back and knock yet another horse and rider to the ground.

Philip's first action after heaving his first spear was to throw an ax toward the end of the wagon filled with hostages. One of the bound men saw it, then looked to Philip, who hollered, "Cut your people free! Run, down here, into the river! Hurry!"

Philip caught sound and movement and looked to his right to find Rolph and his people at a full gallop this way. In addition to Rolph, the squad included 5 members of the Quick Cavalry. As they approached, they stood in their stirrups and fired arrows with a precision that Philip had never before imagined, let alone seen. Almost without fail, the arrows struck slavers, injuring or killing them outright.

Philip rushed down into the river, leaping in and swimming across. On the other side, he hurried the hostages to safety. The slavers were in such a frenzy to save their own lives that they barely paid their living cargo any attention. Men, women, and even children hurried down into the river as Philip continued to holler "This way! Into the water! Hurry!"

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

The Dead Coast
About 22 hours from Survival Bay

Getting nearer to noon:

"Ready to do this again, m'lady?" Hugo asked Andrea as he began removing the clothing that would get in the way of him raping her a second time.

"You fucking touch me again," she growled as she backed away, her shackled hands before her menacingly, "And I'll scratch your eyes out and shove them up your ass! Right after I've pulled your balls--"

That was all the farther Andrea got before she was screaming in anger at Hugo manhandling her a second time in as many hours. She'd expected that he would again throw her down onto the bed, lay his weight upon her, and fuck her from behind. She got the from behind part, right, but he didn't put her down on his bed, instead forcing himself against her as he bent her over the cushioned back of his couch/bed.

She fought Hugo -- more for show than to actually get away from him -- but quickly found her shackled hands again restricted by a link in the chains finding a hook between two windows looking out upon The Dead Coast's rough waters. Her dress came down from her bosom, exposing her tits yet again; her dress and shift rose from behind as well, the cool air of the room finding her legs and ass.

Andrea cried out in pain as Hugo rammed most of his length deep into her without any form of foreplay to prepare her. A moment later, even as she was still crying out in pain, he was fucking her hard, his hands grasping her hips so fiercely that she would have fingertip shaped bruises for days to follow.

Just as had happened the first time Hugo had taken her, Andrea felt the pleasure rising in her without regard to whether she welcomed it or not. She didn't want the man to know that he was pleasing her; she attempted to make it appear as though she was still fighting him, cursing him in between the deepening breaths that came with the deepening pleasure.

Unlike the first time, though, Andrea had no way to hide that her body was enjoying what Hugo was doing to her; the first time, she'd buried her face into the bedding and released her orgasmic cries there. This time, she had only the inside of an elbow with which she could cover her mouth, and while she tried to do just that, Hugo's rough pulling and pushing of her body onto and off of his cock made that difficult.

Andrea did her best to hide her orgasm as it exploded through her body, but it was likely only Hugo's great, climactic grunt almost simultaneous with her own cries that covered her sounds; with any luck, the explosion of pleasure through his body would cover the trembling waves invading her own. Again, Andrea tried to control her accelerated, excited breathing, but there was only so much that she could do.

After a minute or so, as she began to truly realize the weight of the man upon her, Andrea begged, "Please, please ... I ... I can't breath." She tried to shrug Hugo off of her, but he simply laid there atop her for a long, long moment. Ironically, when he finally did lift some of his weight off of her, Andrea felt another orgasmic rush through her body, almost as if she'd come a second time. She couldn't explain it and -- honestly -- she wouldn't try, either now or later, simply because her mind was spinning in the wild, unexpected second shot of euphoria.

Years later, Andrea would be taking dirty with the Madam of one of the most famous brothels in the Known World and would tell her about this moment. She Madam would smile and name it: "Breath Play. We call it Breath Play."

The Madam would explain the relationship between sexual pleasure at the time of climax and the lack of air to the lungs; it was actually oxygen to the brain, not that anyone knew that at this time in history. The Madam would ask, "Would you like to try it again?" Andrea would, of course, and while she would enjoy it, it would never replace the memory of this moment with Hugo.

While she was still recovering from the unexpected explosion, Andrea felt herself being flipped over. Hugo grabbed her by the chin, warning, "Spit on me again, and I'll brand your nipples. Understand?"

She nodded anxiously; she knew women -- mostly slaves, prisoners, and brothel whores -- who'd faced that punishment. She'd been told that the pain never waned; some women had been so overwhelmed by it that they'd taken their own lives.

Hugo forced Andreas thighs apart and again rammed deep inside her, causing her to cry out in a combination of surprise, pain, and pleasure. Once again, he was thrusting hard, deep, and fast into her, his powerful hands grasping her painfully at the hips.

Andrea took the punishment willingly, again feeling the pleasure rising in her. But her position was painful, and she feared suffering a muscle or bone injury if the big, powerful man continued as he was. She interrupted her deepening breaths to beg, "Free me! Free my arms! Please, m'lord!"

Coincidentally, the shackle chain suddenly broke from of the hook or the hook came out or whatever! Andrea threw her shackled hands forward, over Hugo's head, and grabbed him at his shoulders, the chain stretched tightly over his muscular back. Then, looking him in the eyes, she demanded, "Fuck me, Hugo. Fuck me!"

She didn't realize it at the moment, but the way she'd made her demand was precisely the same words and tone that she'd used when she'd mounted the man while he'd been chained in a basement as a fighting pit slave. Quickly rocking to and fro in his lap, Andrea fought to drive the both of them to orgasm.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

(OOC: Continued from here.)

The House of Reed
Home of Count Peter and Countess Victoria

A few miles northwest of Smugglers Swamp
Northwest of Survival Bay

Late afternoon:

Victoria -- who was still cupping and pleasuring Morrow's manhood through his trousers -- leapt anxiously at the sound of her husband nearing the closed library door; it was improper for a Lady to be alone with a gentleman who wasn't her husband, let alone groping that man's cock and causing it to harden as she was now with Morrow.

But her guest -- and now fellow murder conspirator -- covered very quickly by telling Peter a story of how Victoria had convinced him to keep his men here over the night, for rest and relaxation; in addition, the faux slaves would be more able to sell the story by becoming more desperate looking after a night slept outside in the cold under the stars.

"That's wonderful," Peter said, eager to see the man and his Force remain the night. Just as Morrow suspected, the Count intended to inform the criminal elements of Survival Bay that they were about to be infiltrated and attacked. "I think this is an excellent idea, my dear."

The two men spoke of what Morrow needed to make his men comfortable before Peter left to make arrangements. Morrow stepped closer to Victoria again, telling her that they'd be better off killing her husband tonight, rather than waiting until after the Survival Bay infiltration was completed. "What would you think about that, m'lady?"

"I think this is a marvelous idea, m'lord," she answered, reaching out to caress a hand upon his chest before stepping closer and sharing a soft but erotic kiss with him.

"There might be a need to tend to some of the Count's guardians, too," Morrow told her; he meant, of course, killing some of Peter's protectors. "Are there any that you would prefer were not tended to?"

She thought a moment; amongst her husband's armed men, Victoria had two lovers with whom she spent time on occasion, sometimes as a threesome. But honestly, she could do without them; she'd tired of what they had to offer and thought maybe it was time to move onto other pleasures.

"My nephew is not to be harmed," Victoria told Morrow. "I'll handle that, though. I'll get him out of the way early." She thought a bit more, adding, "There are three men who are married to women in my service ... women who I would not want hurt by this. I will take care of that, too." She kissed him again, once more cupping his groin to remind Morrow of what was awaiting him. "When do you want to do this?"

He told her, then whispered, "Once this is tended to, I'd like to come visit you in your bed chamber, m'lady."

"I'll expect you there, m'lord," Victoria said, smirking knowingly. A knock at the door separated them again, with a servant entering to tell her that she was needed elsewhere. She passed by Morrow toward the exit, tracing a fingertip across his butt as she said, "It was nice meeting you, Lord Morrow. I hope we meet again in the near future."

Casually, Victoria went to the wives of the men to be saved and told each that they were get their men into a private situation at the appropriate time. Next, she asked her nephew to her quarters, gave him a message to deliver to the home of a friend in a small town to the east. Giving him a small purse of Silver Sovereigns, Victoria told him, "Spend the night in town. Have some fun. Don't come back before tomorrow afternoon." He questioned the odd orders, but Victoria simply told him, "Trust your auntie."

She spent the rest of the day milling about, waiting for the activities that would, hopefully, change her life for the better.

 

[HumanBean]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

The Dead Coast
About 22 hours from Survival Bay

Getting nearer to noon:

Hugo had been too invested in his own orgasm to notice that Andrea had also cum. His mind had been overwhelmed by the euphoria. He barely heard and understood Andrea when she begged, "Please, please ... I ... I can't breath."

He was surprised when she freed her shackled hands from the hook in the wall. His first reaction was to defend himself against being strangled by the chains. But she instead embraced him, demanding, "Fuck me, Hugo. Fuck me!"

He didn't immediately return to ramming himself into her. Andrea was doing enough on her own to pleasure both of them. There was something very familiar about the way she'd ordered him. Her words. Her tone. And then, her movements.

It suddenly occurred to him that it had been Andrea who'd shackled him in that basement for days and raped him repeatedly. It had been a very surreal time for him. He'd correctly assumed at the time that his rapist had been some horny Noblewoman. He'd been warned not to speak. And the one time he'd asked what was happening, he'd been punched in the eye.

But it would never have occurred to Hugo that that Noble rapist was Andrea. That the very Noblewoman he'd taken hostage for ransom was his rapist. How the fuck did this come to pass? he wondered as he watched Andrea riding his cock with great energy and desperation.

Suddenly, Hugo was untangling the two of them, tossing Andrea roughly to one end of the bed. He stood, turning away. He tried his best to find a solution to all that he was adding in his less than educated brain. The facts just didn't come out as coincidence, even though they were.

"It was you!" he said after turning back to Andrea. "It was you! The woman who fucked me in that dungeon. Who hooded me! Who mounted me, again and again! Who had me beat when all I wanted to know was who you were and why that was happening to me!"

Hugo didn't have any idea why he was angry. A beautiful woman had wanted to fuck him. Okay, she'd wanted it to be anonymous. And sure, the dungeon setting hadn't been comfortable. But having her tight pussy wrapped around his cock, riding it to ejaculation. That had been nice. That had been great.

 

[HumanBean]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

(OOC: Continued from here.)

The House of Reed
Home of Count Peter and Countess Victoria

A few miles northwest of Smugglers Swamp
Northwest of Survival Bay

Evening:

Morrow had spent the afternoon inconspicuously meeting with the leaders of the Raiders Brigade, Quick Cavalry, and Standing Army squads. He explained the situation to them and asked for their input. They all knew what the goal for the evening was: to kill all of the Count's men without getting any of their own killed in the process.

Count Peter had okayed Morrow's request to erect his personal field tent inside the Inner Ward early in the day. He had, though, respectfully requested that only a portion of Morrow's Force be allowed inside the palisade.

"You can understand my concern, I'm sure, m'lord," Peter said with a feigned tone of respect.

"Of course," Morrow had responded with equally feigned empathy for the man's situation. "You don't know me. And I did have my archers aim their arrows at your men earlier today."

They laughed about it and went on with their planning. They each were planning on killing the other, of course. And they were each looking for the best way to do it without getting their own men dead.

Morrow's men outside the palisade got involved in some sword play that was intended to be playful and harmless. And yet, after several minutes, a cry rang out when one of the men was accidentally cut across his arm. As blood stained his uniform, one of Morrow's men rushed inside to find him. Morrow responded, then returned to the Keep informing Peter, "I have an injured man. I'd like to get him inside out of the cold and onto a bed."

Seeing the blood on Morrow's hands and presuming no foul play at hand, Peter said, "Of course." He alerted a servant, telling her, "Prepare a bed in a guest room. Have hot water and towels sent up."

A few minutes later, four men carried the injured man into the Keep on a field stretcher. He was crying in pain, his uniform stained in blood. A trail of the red stuff tracked through the Inner Ward.

No sooner had the door behind the five men closed then all hell broke. The injured man rolled off the stretcher, revealing the bows and loose arrows lying beneath where he'd been. The four stretcher bearers snatched up the weapons, notched arrows, and let them fly. In seconds, the Count's guards were dead or dying.

Two of the archers went with Morrow up the stairs to access the Wall Walk that lined a portion of the otherwise less than impressive palisades. There, they would pick off the archers lining the Walk. The other stretcher bearers returned to the exterior and pulled the same move they had inside with the hidden bows.

Simultaneously, the men inside Morrow's tent came surging out to attack the gate. They got to it before the guards there could cut the lines to the counterweights that both kept theh gate up and the bridge over the moat down. They managed the task. That allowed the remainder of Morrow's men inside the Inner Ward to join the fight.

It was seriously a one side battle. Morrow and the other archers had taken out all of Peter's archers in the first or second round of firing. After that, the archers and swordsmen used their clear numerical advantage to kill or capture the rest of Peter's men.

It was all over in just minutes. The servants were all gathered in the Great Hall to be reassured by Victoria that none of them would be harmed. The surviving fighters were shackled to be dealt with at a later point. Morrow's men poured through the Keep and outbuildings, looking for any holdouts. They found a few cowards who'd hid. Some of them were returned. Some of them were killed.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

The Dead Coast
About 22 hours from Survival Bay

Getting nearer to noon:

Andrea didn't immediately sense Hugo's state of confusion with her demand that he fuck her; she was simply desperate to again have him beneath her as she rose and fell in his groin, taking him deep into her as he had in that dungeon weeks earlier. But then he was suddenly untangling their bodies, tossing her roughly aside and rising to accuse, "It was you! It was you! The woman who fucked me in that dungeon. Who hooded me! Who mounted me, again and again! Who had me beat when all I wanted to know was who you were and why that was happening to me!"

Andrea suddenly felt very vulnerable ... and very afraid. She certainly hadn't intended for Hugo to discover that it had been her with him in that way; it must have felt so demeaning to him to have a mere female -- Noble or Merchant or Common or whatever -- treat him like just a piece of hard, stiff meat, even if he himself had been enjoying the delight of sexual orgasm.

And setting the sex aside, Andrea knew that Hugo had been punished on occasion for various reasons. Once, he'd been punched in the face simply for speaking to her after the Guard escorting her had told Hugo that he was not to speak at any time. Andrea had let Hugo believe that it was the guard who'd punched him, but it had actually been her; in truth, she hadn't actually punched him for speaking but had instead done so to give Hugo the impression that the guard -- who'd been dismissed -- was still there to provide Andrea security should the big fighting pit slave act up.

Another time, Hugo had been kicked squarely in the balls following his session with Andrea. That most certainly hadn't been done by Andrea, and when she'd heard from a second guard that the first had done that, she'd had that guard shackled to the wall in the cell opposite Hugo -- in sight of where Andrea was fucking the fighter -- and after she finished fucking the man, she would cross to the shackled guard and kick him in the nuts, too.

Andrea curled her knees up to her chest to hide her bosom with her feet crossed to hide her pussy as she pleaded, "I'm sorry, Hugo. Please believe me. I didn't mean to hurt you. I ... I simply had to have you. And ... you know I couldn't have. My father would have had me sent to a Klaster* ... or worse, to a brothel!"

* Klaster: A nunnery

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

The House of Reed
Home of Count Peter and Countess Victoria

A few miles northwest of Smugglers Swamp
Northwest of Survival Bay

Evening:

Victoria was surprised when Morrow's attack began so suddenly just inside the entrance to the Great Hall. All around her, Peter's men were falling with arrows in their chests or necks or legs, while servants ran for cover or hid under tables or behind other furniture.

Peter saw what was happening and -- having been planning such an ambush himself at some point tonight -- reacted with less shock, pulling his sword from its pommel and rushing for cover. Victoria saw this and -- thinking You fucking coward! -- screamed, gaining his attention, and holding her arms out, crying, "Husband, help me! Don't let them take me!"

Victoria hadn't actually expected Peter to come rescue her; she'd simply wanted the servants and protectors to think that she had nothing to do with the ambush on their Lord. And yet Peter abandoned his cover and ran to Victoria, standing before her as he held his sword out before her, challenging anyone who might come after him, her, or the both of them.

One by one, Peter's men fell, dead or dying -- those dying were quickly put to death by the point of a sword -- and suddenly only he, his wife, and the servants remained. Victoria called over her husband's shoulder toward Morrow, "Please have mercy on my servants, m'lord! Please! Let them leave in peace! Don't harm them!"

During the still in the action, the servants began rushing for a back exit in the hall, one that would allow them to leave that room but not leave the Keep. Victoria clung to her husband's clothing, using him as a shield as Morrow came toward her. She begged Peter, "Protect me husband! Don't let them get me. You know what they do to Noble women, the savages."

Victoria didn't know what her husband would do; he'd never been much of a hero, having only ever killed men when they were shackled or bound or beaten to within an inch of their life by his own men. But she certainly hadn't expected Peter to suddenly plead to Morrow, "If you spare my life, Lord Morrow ... you can take my wife ... as well as any of the women who serve me."

Victoria's eyes widened, and she gave Morrow a look that if put in words would have been something to the effect of What the bloody fuck did he just say?

Peter made things worse when he began naming female servants who he had experience with, even describing some of the kinks he had that they'd been happy to satisfy, "Because my wife either won't or can't ... sometimes both."

Suddenly, Peter cried out in pain, his body tightening and twitching before he fell to his knees, then to his face. Behind him, Victoria held a now bloody dagger, looking down at the man with a smirk and a gently shaking head as she said, "Here's a kink I'm not unwilling or incapable of satisfying ... you pig!"

Morrow and his men dispersed to secure the Keep and the grounds beyond it. Victoria knelt down next to her husband, finding that he was still breathing. He opened his eyes, looking at her with a confused expression. She smiled, saying, "Yes, I stabbed you in the back, husband. You've been doing it to me and others for years. I'm so very surprised that you didn't see it coming."

Peter was attempting to speak to her, and while his words were jumbled and making little sense because of the pain of the dagger attack, Victoria began to question whether or not she'd actually dealt a fatal blow. She reached down to his groin to undue his belt and loosen his clothing enough to get to his cock. Then, pulling it into view -- he was actually amazingly well endowed, which made exposing him easy enough -- Victoria lowered the blade to his shaft, pressed it against his flesh, and jerked the blade back hard, slicing Peter's peter clean off.

As he screamed in agony, Victoria held the bleeding tube of flesh before him and said, "See this...? This was the only thing that I ever appreciated about you, m'lord ... and all you wanted to do with it was stick it inside peasants and servants from Survival Bay to the Inner Sea to the City of Tut."

She looked to Peter's groin, finding blood spurting upwards to splash all about his groin, belly, and thighs. She looked to her dress, finding red spots and smears on it. She chastised, "Well, fuck. Look what you did now." She reached up to her husband's neck with the dagger and sunk the blade a few inches in before pulling it out once more. She stood and stepped back to watch the life leave him in the more horrible and satisfying way.

An hour later:

The Keep and the estate surrounding it was entirely in the hands of the men from the City of Yalla. Victoria had assembled all of the servants and explained to them that Peter had secretly hired Morrow to assassinate her to make room for a new, younger Countess in his life, but that Lord Morrow, the honorable Viscount of Orland, had revealed the plot to her and instead dealt a blow to the treacherous Count.

She didn't really care whether her servants believed the tale or not; they were Peasants and Commoners, she was a Noblewoman, and they didn't have a right to question her words or her choices. Once the servants had been told the truth of the attack, Victoria gathered together all of the females who her disloyal husband had named as his lovers. She told them they were dismissed from her service and would be lashed for their treachery.

Then, however, Victoria told them that if they served Morrow's men through the night out in the tent set up in the Inner Ward, that they could avoid the lash and even leave her service with a Silver Sovereign for every man they satisfied. She didn't explain this to Morrow personally, and she told the women that they were not to speak of the terms with the men; they were instead simply to go out to the tent, strip, and make themselves available to any and every man who came to partake of them.

When Morrow finished with his other work and came looking for her, Victoria told him simply, "I have a surprise for your men in your tent. They are free to do as they wish ... no restrictions ... and no need to pay for services rendered. This is my treat."

She led Morrow up the stairs to the bed chamber she had once shared with her husband, then reminded him, "Lord Morrow, our agreement was that you could fuck me after you killed my husband. However ... you did not kill my husband. I did. So ... you won't be fucking me."

Victoria turned and walked to a wall, pulled aside a tapestry there, and pushed open a not-so-secret doorway, saying, "Come in, please."

A beautiful woman in tattered clothing entered, her body language and the expression on her face -- as well as the metal shackles on her wrists -- leaving little doubt that she was not having a good day. Victoria impatiently pushed her toward Morrow, not just once but twice, before explaining, this is Florence. She is one of the whores who has been servicing my husband recently."

Victoria gave her one more shove Morrow's direction, then -- from behind -- jerked her dress down from the shoulders to reveal the most wondrously bountiful bosom as she explained what likely didn't need to be explained, "Florence is yours, Lord Morrow. And by yours ... I do not mean just for this moment ... or for this evening. She is yours ... forever ... to do with as you please."

A tear escaped Florence's eye and ran down her cheek as she dropped to her knees, begging, "Please, m'lord ... please accept me as your servant. Please do not leave me here to--"

She didn't get any farther than that; Victoria had walked around her to glare at the body that she knew her husband had preferred over her own, and at the woman's plea to be taken from her home, Victoria slammed Florence so hard that she fell over to the floor.

"Take your payment, Lord Morrow," Victoria demanded, "for relieving me of the men who were loyal to my husband.

She pulled a dagger from a secret place in her dress -- it was the very one that she'd used to slice off her husband's cock -- and rapped it hard upon the nearest post of her four-post bed. Suddenly, from the very not-so-secret door through which Florence had appeared, the four men who Victoria had demanded were not killed tonight -- her nephew and the three husbands of various household staff members -- emerged, each bearing a sword and/or dagger.

"Your men outnumber mine ten-fold, Lord Morrow," Victoria admitted. "You can kill them and take my home. You can kill me ... and take me, too." She lobbed something out onto a writing table near Morrow; it was her husband's severed cock. She warned, "But you'll have to kill me afterward, too ... because I do not suffer men who will treat me like a whore."

She signaled to the men, who parted to give her space to walk backward toward the not-so-secret door. If Morrow chose to stop her, he'd find himself battling four men on his own. If he allowed Victoria to depart, the men would follow her one at a time; once beyond the door, they would bar it and disappear into the depths of the Keep where it could take Morrow and his entire Force days to find her.

(OOC: I have to admit something. I had no idea that I was going to write that until I actually did: the castration, the denial of her pussy to Morrow, the whorish servant, the secret exit. It all came to me off the top of my pointy head ... and it was FUN!)

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

(This picks up again from here.)


Smuggler's Village
On the coastline of The Long Sea
(Northwest of Survival Bay)

Late Afternoon, at the rocky outcrop south of the village:

Greta had done her best to talk Philip into sitting out the battle, even promising to give him another throat-depth cock suck after the fight was over if he'd let a pair of the villagers help him off to the west to shelter and safety. He'd refused, though, demanding on participating in the ambush. She'd shook her head in dismay, then smirked and whispered, "Survive this with your cock intact ... and I'll service it anyway."

After that, Rolph and his crew road away to the south to set up that portion of the ambush, and Greta verified with her Captains the signals for their attacks. After that, it was simply a matter of waiting for the train to arrive. She was surprised at the size of it, just as Rolph would be; she was certain that innocent men, women, or children were going to die during the fight between the good guys and the bad guys. It would be a tragedy if instead of rescuing the captives, they got them killed instead.

By the time the first arrows were launched into the torsos, necks, and even eye sockets of the nearest slavers, Greta's heart was pounding from the building anxiety. She'd been involved in many violent moments in her life -- some battles of many, others one-to-one fights with fists or blades -- but this one was causing her panic because of the potential for the loss of life to so many who'd never been violent in their lives.

Because of this, when the mayhem began, she charged from behind the sole tent directly at the bridge, intending to cross it and personally slash down as many slavers as she could with her own blades. By the time she reached and crossed the bridge, the grain field beyond the road was already roaring in the planned conflagration; the slavers who were caught between the building flames and the river were also ducking and diving to avoid ballistae, arrows, and spears. Greta slashed and stabbed her way through four men on her way to the wagon full of slaves.

"Get out! Get out and run for your lives!" she cried out as she neared. "Run!"

Most of the wagon's occupants had already exited the bed, some of them bound at the hands, feet, or both. Greta grabbed hold of a girl who couldn't have been more than 9-years-old, carried her a couple of steps toward the river, and threw her through the air into the water below, where one of the archers who'd been hiding under the bridge pulled her up and out toward safety.

Greta turned back toward the fighting -- just in time to have a sword thrusted into her chest so deeply that the tip came out her back side. The shock of the blow was so great that she didn't even register the pain; she grabbed the weapon-wielding wrist of her attacker to hold him close, then slashed the dagger she ripped from her hip across his throat, opening it so deeply that his blood painted her from forehead to belly before the two of them dropped to their knees together, then tipped to the side and crashed to the ground.

She was dead before anyone could get to her to even consider life saving measures.

(OOC: Once again ... it just came to me. )

 

[HumanBean]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

The Dead Coast
About 22 hours from Survival Bay

Getting nearer to noon:

Hugo could see the fear in Andrea's expression and body. She cowered in the corner of his bed like a child hiding from a vicious dog. Ironically, he had no intention of harming her physically. This was even after he'd slapped her twice and raped her twice.

"I'm sorry, Hugo," she pleaded. "Please believe me. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He wanted to remind Andrea that she'd raped him. Repeatedly, over days, in a dank dark basement while he'd been shackled and hooded!

But what had he done to her? He'd taken her hostage. He'd shackled her in a basement, for four days. He'd shackled her again in the hold of the ship. For four days. And then he, took had raped her.

The rapes were so different and so similar at the same time. The similarity, of course, was that they'd been illegal and wrong. Hugo didn't know of a single society or culture that didn't disapprove of rape. Oh, sure, it still happened. Anywhere that there was a power difference between individuals, there was rape.

Andrea hadn't had the right to rape Hugo in that basement. Hugo hadn't had the right to rape Andrea here in his stateroom. And a difference in power had been at the center of both. She'd had the power back in Riverport. He'd had the power here on his ship.

And then there was the similarities. They'd both enjoyed the most wonderful orgasms. Yeah, sure: rape. And yet Hugo knew that Andrea wouldn't ask the Gods to turn back time to before she first mounted him as a pit fighting slave. Or now as the captain of the boat she was traveling on.

"I ... I simply had to have you," Andrea continued explaining. "And ... you know I couldn't have. My father would have had me sent to a Klaster* ... or worse, to a brothel!"

That was true, of course. Hugo knew Andrea's father very well. The man had no empathy or sympathy for anyone. Not even his daughter. When Hugo kidnapped Andrea back in Riverport and demanded ransom from her father for her safe return, he'd literally told Hugo to keep the whore.

At the time, Hugo had thought that that meant Andrea had been fucking around with others. Had her father actually been speaking of her fucking him? Did he know that Andrea had been mounting a pit fighting slave in a dark, dank cellar?

Hugo found himself wracked with emotional upheaval. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel about this. About Andrea. He hadn't raped her because she'd raped him. That was a simple enough understanding. He'd raped her because he was angry about her father not paying the ransom for her. He was angry at her father for killing his beloved Master, simply to take possession of Hugo and force the former pit fighter to fight again, this time for him.

Now, though, Hugo suddenly found himself feeling guilt toward his actions regarding Andrea. Her life, it turned out, was just as fucked up as his was. Maybe even more so!

He turned away from Andrea for a moment, just staring at nothing at all. Then, finally, he turned back and looked into her eyes. He didn't know where he was supposed to go with what he knew about her now. With what he knew about their past together. It was a togetherness that Hugo, of course, had been unaware of. And yet now, at this moment, he felt something new for Andrea. What was it? A closeness?

He went to a small cupboard in a nook in the portside bulkhead. He opened the drawer and removed a key. He tossed it onto the bed. Then, without a word, he turned and left. Hugo went topside and forward to the bow. He looked out onto the sea before them. The sun was high above them. The angle between the boat and the two Salfar Mountain peaks told him they were maybe 12 hours from Survival Bay, closer than he'd previously believed.

"Can we navigate the Bay in the dark of night?" he asked his First Mate.

"I wouldn't recommend it, Captain," the Mate said. "Between the shoals and the sand bars."

The man was right. They needed to enter the Bay during the light of day. That meant that the enemy would see them coming, of course. But the enemy in Survival Bay didn't know that Hugo's boat was their enemy. The men watching the port and the docks would be wary of an unfamiliar boat.

But Survival Bay was a pirate town. And the pirates there might still believe that Riverport was a pirate town. Had news of Morrow's elimination of the pirate conspiracy there reached Survival Bay? If it had, would the pirates here think that Hugo worked for Morrow? Or perhaps he'd escaped Riverport, still working as a pirate.


* Klaster: A nunnery

 

[HumanBean]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

The House of Reed
Home of Count Peter and Countess Victoria

A few miles northwest of Smugglers Swamp
Northwest of Survival Bay

Evening, in the Great Hall before Count Peter's death:

"Please have mercy on my servants, m'lord!" Victoria pleaded to Morrow "Please! Let them leave in peace! Don't harm them!"

Morrow smiled. He wasn't sure what Victoria's game was. He'd expected her to simply step aside and let Morrow kill her husband. Was she playing a part now? Or had she changed her mind about the future for herself, her husband, her home, and everyone in it?

Whatever her game was, Morrow commanded, "Everyone out! Everyone! Everyone but the Count and Countess!"

From every direction, servants began fleeing. Morrow's men were guarding the door that went outside, of course. They couldn't let the Guardsmen outside know that their Lord was being assassinated yet.

"Protect me husband! Don't let them get me," Victoria continued, grasping tightly to Peter. "You know what they do to Noble women, the savages."

Morrow couldn't help but laugh this time. Savages? he thought. You were groping my cock and balls a couple of hours ago. He couldn't wait to kill Peter and get Victoria out of her clothes. He just knew that she was going to be a great deal of fun.

Then the Count shocked the hell out of Morrow. "If you spare my life, Lord Morrow ... you can take my wife ... as well as any of the women who serve me."

Morrow looked immediately to Victoria for her reaction. She shook her head as Peter began explaining in great, lewd detail the kinks that some of his female servants could do for Morrow with their mouths, pussies, and even their asses. Morrow had never been a great fan of anal sex. But it seemed pretty obvious from his graphic description that Peter had spent a fair share of time with his cock deep in the poop chute of at least one of his female servants.

Morrow was thinking You definitely need to be dead when suddenly Peter cried out in great pain. He twisted as he fell. And Morrow saw the knife in Victoria's hands. She leaned over him, saying, "Here's a kink I'm not unwilling or incapable of satisfying ... you pig!"

Morrow watched Victoria taunt her dying husband a moment, then hurried off to conclude the fight. He returned several minutes later to find Victoria missing. Peter was lying on the floor where he'd fallen. His trousers and the floor about his lower half were coated with blood. One did not have to be a genius to know what had happened to him.

Victoria had assembled her servants and told them a tale to keep them happy. She'd also separated off the women who'd been sexually satisfying her husband. She didn't tell Morrow what that was all about, though. She only told him, "I have a surprise for your men in your tent. They are free to do as they wish ... no restrictions ... and no need to pay for services rendered. This is my treat."

He was conflicted about taking Victoria up on her offer. She was whoring her female staff out to Morrow. He was pretty damn sure that they weren't doing this by choice. Morrow and his Force were on a mission to rescue girls and women. From force sexual servitude! What did it say about Morrow to tell his men that, as Victoria had said, they were free to do as they wish?

Before he could think too much about it, Victoria gestured Morrow to follow her upstairs. He didn't know what he wanted to do about the women outside. But he did know that he wanted to fuck the hell out of Countess Victoria. Morrow had a feeling that she was bound up with sexual tensions that could very well be filled with moments of deep excitement and satisfaction.

And yet, he arrived in her bed chamber to be told, "Lord Morrow, our agreement was that you could fuck me after you killed my husband. However ... you did not kill my husband. I did. So ... you won't be fucking me."

Morrow's initial thought was Well, fuck. I didn't see THAT coming. But she IS right. His second thought was, If I want to fuck you, though, I'm gonna fuck you.

Then, Victoria surprised Morrow by presenting him with an alternative. "This is Florence. She is one of the whores who has been servicing my husband recently."

Victoria pushed the woman his direction, ripping her blouse down to reveal the most wonderfully full and firm breasts he'd seen in quite a while. Oh, he loved small tits, too. Greta had wonderfully shaped but modestly sized tits. And Morrow's own wife-to-be, Stella, had an incredibly beautiful but smallish bosom as well.

Nina came to mind for a moment. But Morrow wasn't recalling her because she had small breasts. Nina was as generously built in the bosom as was Florence. Big or small, Morrow had to admit that he just liked nice tits!

(part two is next.)

 

[HumanBean]

(part two)


"Florence is yours, Lord Morrow," Victoria told him. "And by yours ... I do not mean just for this moment ... or for this evening. She is yours ... forever ... to do with as you please."

Morrow suddenly realized that the Countess was giving him possession of the woman. Title.

Florence realized it, too, and immediately begged, "Please, m'lord ... please accept me as your servant. Please do not leave me here to--"

She fell to the floor after Victoria slapped her across the face. "Take your payment, Lord Morrow," Victoria demanded, "for relieving me of the men who were loyal to my husband."

Victoria pulled a dagger, which didn't really mean too much to Morrow. But then four armed men suddenly appeared from the secret passage. He reached to the hilt of his sword, pausing there.

Victoria admitted to the overwhelming force that Morrow. Yet she still made it clear that she was going to get what she wanted and he was only going to get what she was willing to surrender to him.

Once Victoria was gone, Morrow went to the woman on the ground and offered a hand. "Come with me, girl. Don't be afraid. You are not a slave. You will not be taken against your will. I promise."

He helped Florence to her feet. Her bared bosom attracted his gaze like a magnet to steel. Morrow helped her cover up, saying again, "Come with me. You're safe."

Downstairs, he led her out of the keep toward the tent. Morrow handed Florence off to one of his Lieutenants. "Take care of her. Get her a coat or blanket and see about getting these shackles off her."

He went into the tent and stopped short. There were half a dozen women in various stages of undress. He couldn't help but take a moment to ogle the flesh exposed by the ones who'd been the most eager to serve Morrow's men and avoid the lash.

"Put your clothes on," Morrow instructed them. "No one is serving any man today."

One naked woman stepped eagerly forward to Morrow. She dutifully tried to unfasten his leather armor as she said, "But m'lady said that we'd be lashed if we didn't--"

Morrow seized her hands, stopping her. He stressed, "No one here is being forced to service any man today."

As she backed away a step, Morrow continued, "On the other hand, if you remain here in the service of Lady Victoria, you will be lashed. And possibly worse. What your Lady told you about why the Count was killed and how. This was false. Countess Victoria solicited my service in assassinating her husband. She offered herself, and she offered any of you with whom I or any of my men wanted to spend time, in exchange for killing her husband and his loyal warrior.

"So, my advice to all of you," Morrow suggested, "is that you put your clothes on and leave this place with me and my men immediately. Do not go back inside the Keep. Do not retrieve possessions--"

"Our children," one woman cried out. A fury of concerns were quickly expressed. Some of the women had children living in the small hamlet just down the hill from the Keep.

"We will retrieve all of your children," Morrow promised. Some had mentioned husbands. Morrow added, "Any family that you have in the hamlet or here in the keep can come with you. No one will be left behind, I promise you."

It took nearly an hour to retrieve all the appropriate men, women, children, elderly, even goats and sheep that the women wished to take with them. By the time Morrow and his Force finally turned away from the Keep, there were nearly 50 new people and 20 animals.

Morrow looked back to the Keep's palisades a few times as they prepared to leave. Victoria stood there with her men and some of the remaining servants watching. He couldn't help but find himself bewildered at what had just happened. It wasn't at all what he'd expected when the Countess had first reached to his groin and cupped his cock and balls.

The entirety of the expanded group traveled southwest for an hour before stopping to make camp. By then, the night sky was black. The moon was hidden behind clouds, as were the stars. The few torches they had weren't providing enough light to make the trek safe.

Morrow's Lieutenants took charge of the watch setting. That left Morrow to help settle the civilians into sleeping groups. They only had three tents between them as they'd been traveling light. They'd expected to be supplied by Greta's ships, but that hadn't happened yet. (Morrow wouldn't find out until tomorrow or possibly the day after that that Greta herself had died today.)

The civilians filled the tents, sleeping in a circle around the small fire in the center of each tent. Morrow needed some space and chose to sleep apart from the others. He found a small nook between a trio of large, exposed boulders. He built a fire there, using the stones to reflect the heat back to him. He told the Captain of the Raider's Brigade to wake him for watch in four hours. (The Captain said he would, despite knowing that he wouldn't. He felt Morrow needed some sleep.)

Morrow laid down, wrapped in his hide and woolen bedding. He looked to the stars that occasionally peeked through the clouds. He thought of Greta, who'd forced him to fuck her. To Nina who'd wanted to fuck him. To Stella who had, even though they were yet to be married. To Luna who he desperately wanted to fuck but likely never would. And then, of course, to Clara, who by all accounts was carrying his child.

 

[HumanBean]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

(This picks up again from here, which continued from here, just so you have both of our last posts for these characters.)


Smuggler's Village
On the coastline of The Long Sea
(Northwest of Survival Bay)

Late Afternoon (the same day of the events with Morrow, only earlier):

Philip was set apart from the slaver danger by now. The attack was in full swing. The slavers were mostly in defensive mode, scrambling for safety between the flames to the east, Rolph's charging Quick Cavalry to the south, archers lining the far side of the smallish river to the west, and both the charging swordsmen and the continuing ballistae attack from the north.

He'd put his mind to helping as many of the captives as he could get away from the danger. He'd tossed an ax earlier for cutting free the heavy rope. Since then, he'd also contributed his dagger and one of the fallen slaver's short sword. Male and female slaves both were rapidly cutting their brethren free and sending them over the river back to the water below. There, Philip and others helped them across the narrow but fast-moving waterway.

Just then, Philip caught sight of Greta, crying out to the captives, "Get out! Get out and run for your lives!"

She grabbed hold of a girl no more than 9 or 10 and literally threw her into the river. The girl flailed herself to the surface before being snatched up by others and pulled toward the western bank. Philip couldn't help but laugh at the scene. He turned back toward Greta to make a joke -- just in time to see a slaver sink a sword into and entirely through the Admiral's chest.

"Noooo!" Philip hollered out in a combination of shock, despair, and deep, fiery anger.

The man who'd killed Greta heard Philip. He struggled to pull his weapon free, then headed for Philip. He wouldn't reach his next target. Philip was close enough to the first slaver he'd killed, in that case with a spear thrown from the other side of the river. He pulled free the weapon that had once been a tent pole, reared back, and launched it with all his strength. It hit the man in the neck, nearly taking the slaver's head off. He collapsed to the ground, dead before his body went still.

Philip scrambled up the bank, rushing to Greta. He pulled her up into his arms, crying out her name. She was already dead, her front and back both doused with blood.

From just a few meters away, Rolph watched his partner in the mission gushing over the dead Admiral. He'd heard that Philip and Greta had enjoyed an intimate moment the night before. The actual description had been blowjob. Rolph had been happy for him and, to be honest, relieved. Philip's earlier lover had been one of the captives they'd rescued during their mission. They'd had words about that, and Philip had promised that it wouldn't happen again.

This was heartbreaking for Rolph. He had no idea that Philip could care so much about a woman who he'd only just met, even if they'd fucked or whatever. Rolph didn't realize, though, that it went far deeper than that.

Philip had been in awe of Greta as a warrior. She was a woman in her late 20s who'd achieved the recognition of Admiral from a Queen. She commanded not just her own warship but a fleet of them. She'd patrolled and brought law and order to the waters near the City of Tiala, then those adjacent to the City of Yalla, and in just the last days had begun patrolling The Long Sea.

Greta had been a force to be appreciated and feared. And now she was dead.

Rolph heard some cries from near the front of the train. There were still slavers alive and fighting. He looked to Philip to warn him but too late. His partner gently laid Greta's corpse down on the path, grabbed the sword of the woman's killer, and rushed forward.

Following to help, Rolph would see Philip carve his way brutally through one after another slaver until none were standing anymore. Rolph curled around the back end of the slave wagon just in time to witness a great horror. Four slavers were on their knees, surrounded by an odd alliance of armed warriors, villagers, and former captives. Philip slashed his sword through the air, killing all four men in as many seconds. Two of them literally lost their heads, with one of the skulls rolling across the ground to come to a rest at Rolph's feet.

The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Rolph's face was filled with shock. Philip's continued showing his anger. He looked around for more men to kill. But the battle was pretty much over. A trio of women were beating a slaver with anything they could hold in their hands. But he was still and silent and, for the most part, already dead.

Rolph, a pair of village women, and even some of the captives set to getting all of the good guys away from the conflagration. It was threatening the constituent parts of the train, including those people still alive. After a few minutes, it seemed that everyone alive was safe.

The thick grey-black smoke from the field fire was now blowing southwest, obscuring much of the battle scene. Rolph looked for Philip, who hadn't returned across the bridge to the village. He eventually caught sight of a figure ambling through the smoke. It was heading Rolph's way and turned out to be Philip. He was carrying Greta's corpse in his arms.

Rolph moved Philip's way to offer his help. But, catching his supervisor's eye, Philip shook his head. He continued onward, past the bridge and all the way to the shore. He didn't stop there, though. Philip continued into the water, toward the boats that Greta had once commanded.

Some of the crew had realized what was happening. They cut loose a small boat and headed Philip's way. They arrived as he'd reached chest high water. They carefully claimed their Admiral's body. When they tried to urge Philip aboard, he backed away from them.

Rolph had followed Philip at a respectful distance. He watched the other man turn back to shore, then drop to his knees in the surf. The light, half-meter high waves would batter his backside for several minutes as he simply sobbed, head down. Rolph eventually turned away, giving Philip his private moment.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

(IMPORTANT NOTE: I am making a big change to Andrea in this post. Her original image is shown in the first line below, but then, closer to the end, is a new image for her. Just go with it. It's fiction, right?)


The Dead Coast
About 22 hours from Survival Bay

Getting nearer to noon:

Andrea tried to read what Hugo was thinking by studying his facial expressions. It was ironic that she knew his body so well -- during her captivity of him, she'd fucked a dozen times, a dozen and a half, more? -- and yet she barely knew his face as it had been hooded each time she had his cock deep inside her, as well as both times that he'd fucked her here in his cabin.

She presumed he was mad at her; she had had him shackled, raped -- by her -- and, partially her doing, beaten. But beyond that, he'd simply been betrayed and abused and treated like he was no one of concern.

But at the same time, Hugo looked ... confused.

He turned away from Andrea, eventually fishing a key out of a drawer and tossing it onto the bed near her bared feet. Then, Hugo simply departed, leaving her there alone, presumably to free herself. She hesitated a moment, contemplating what had just happened between them, as well as what had happened between them earlier in their familiarity with each other.

Eventually, Andrea slowly snatched up the key, freed her hands, and straightened out her clothes. She looked to the door, considering going up to speak to Hugo. But what would she say? What the fuck would you say, you stupid bitch? she chastised herself.

Andrea concluded that she needed to make an effort with regard to the man who she'd hurt so deeply ... before he'd hurt her, of course. He did hurt me? she found herself wondering. Yeah, he'd taken her captive, held her in a dark basement for four days, held her in a boat's bilge for another four, then raped her twice. But Andrea couldn't get past the deep, sensual pleasure that Hugo had caused her. Rape or not, he'd sent waves of ecstasy through her entire being that she would never forget, both here and previously in that dark, dank dungeon in Riverport.

Looking around, Andrea cringed at the way Hugo lived aboard his boat. Is it actually his boat? she wondered. She knew about how some man from the City of Yalla, a Lord in service to the new Queen there, had rampaged through the piracy conspiracy in which her own father had been a main player. Hugo had been one of the pirates, though, Andrea didn't believe he'd been any sort of participant in the actual conspiracy, rather just a pirate.

So, had this been Hugo's boat before Lord Morrow or only afterward? Was he still a pirate, or was he in this Lord's service, fighting for law and order? Andrea had heard bits and pieces of conversations between crew members, but she'd been kept separated from them mostly, possibly for her own safety if she knew pirates, which she did.

She found some of her possessions -- including the bag in which they'd been packed -- dumped in a corner of the cabin; when Hugo and two other men snatched her, she'd been traveling from one hiding place to another with a bag of clothing, accessories, personal care items, and coin. She found all of those things except for the coin, the jewelry, and a few other valuables to which Hugo and/or his pirate buddies had laid claim.

She found bloomers, socks, boots, and a warm cloak, donning them under, over, or in addition to what she was already wearing. The additional warmth felt wonderful; Andrea had been cold almost constantly for eight days ... or had it been nine ... ten? She inventoried the rest of what remained of her possessions, stuffing them back in the bag and again tossing it into a corner.

Andrea spent a couple of minutes just standing there in the middle of the cabin. The light seas caused her to sway side to side gently. It occurred to her that she'd never been on the seas before, and yet she hadn't gotten seasick like she'd expected. Why not? Andrea wondered. Maybe I was made for the Sea. Maybe I was meant to be here. Maybe ... I was meant to be a pirate.

That last thought made Andrea laugh aloud. She wondered if perhaps this was her destiny, to be a pirate. She was no angel, that was for certain; she had, of course, kidnapped Hugo away from her father -- who'd killed his master and kidnapped him first! -- and then raped him repeatedly simply for her own sexual pleasure.

Or ... had raping Hugo been about gaining a sense of power over another person? Many people believed that rape wasn't about sex but was instead about power. Andrea had never had power over anyone else. Oh, sure, she took advantage of her father's power, position, titles, and coin to force others to do as she ordered. But that had never been about her power over them. Before she'd kidnapped Hugo without her father's knowledge and forced him to satisfy her needs -- for pleasure or power? -- she'd never ruled over another person, ever!

Andrea's family -- particularly her father -- had begun as honest nobles but had slowly become criminals. Her father still retained his titles, as far as she knew. She couldn't imagine that that would be true for long, though. Queen Luna would eventually strip him of what Nobility remained for him, now in name only. Then, Andrea herself would cease being a Lady in the way that she'd been when she was born into the Nobility. What was she supposed to do then?

Of course, this only mattered if she was ever returned to society by Hugo. But ... did she really want to go back? What was waiting for her in Riverport? In Yalla? In the civilized world as a whole. Her mind was spinning, first with questions, then with possibilities; most of the latter were simply too outrageous to even consider as feasible.

And yet, Andrea marched to the cabin's exit, threw it opened, looked at the sailor who'd been left to guard her, and -- in a demanding voice -- demanded, "Show me your cargo ... stolen cargo, from other boats, specifically trunks and bags and more that had been seized from women."

The sailor looked confused and overwhelmed simultaneously. Andrea stepped up into his face, repeating her demand; he backed up unsteadily, falling over a small keg of fresh water and rolling into and out of a hammock before popping to his feet again. "Yes, m'lady! Yes, I ... I think ... there's ... I think there's some stuff over here..." he rambled as he led Andrea through the compartment. He stopped at a collection of trunks, bags, and other containers, explaining, "We took this off a merchant ship. I think ... there, um ... there could be something that--"

"Leave me!" Andrea demanded, even pushing the man toward the ladder that accessed the main deck. She caught sight of a few heads rising from hammocks; the night crew had been trying to catch some sleep. She ordered as if she actually had authority, "Back to sleep! You'll be needed fresh and spry when we reach our destination."

Andrea still didn't know what that destination was, but she'd heard enough bits of conversation to know that they were sailing to a target of some sort. The sailor who'd been guarding her took a couple of steps away, unsure of what he was supposed to do. Andrea gestured him away, telling him, "Inform your Captain that I am not to be bothered. If he asks why, you tell him it's a female thing."

The sailor cringed; he knew that that meant Andrea was about to enter her Moon Phase. The other sailors lowered back into their hammocks, whether to sleep or simply not partake of any further conversation about the woman's menstrual cycle was uncertain. Andrea began digging through the pile of stolen goods; she had specific items in mind, and -- on a boat full of men who treasured coin, gems, jewels, blades, and drink -- she expected to find plenty of what she wanted here, unless, of course, they'd been tossed overboard as being of no value.

But she found what she wanted surprisingly, and returning to Hugo's cabin, she went to work utilizing them appropriately. When Andrea ascended the ladder to the main deck, one sailor after another looked to her with surprise ... and, for nearly all of them, a degree of lust. She'd shed her dress and corset, replacing them with breeches that reached just past her knees; tall boots that laced up the front clear to her knees; a blouse that offered plenty of cleavage; and a vest that was too small for her and, thus, lifted her generous bosom up and in, only further bringing attention to that generous cleavage.

Andrea waited until Hugo caught sight of her before marching purposely his way; she caught the lowering of his eyes to the dagger in a sheath strapped to her right thigh, as well as the sword slipped through her belt on her left hip, both of which she'd snuck from sleeping sailors below deck.

She stopped just out of reach of him, looking him in the eyes as she asked with a firm, subordinate tone, "What can I do, Captain? Put me to work. I'll be honest with you; I have no idea what to do aboard a boat. But I'm ready to learn. I ... I believe that I was born for this, Captain Hugo."

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

(This picks up again from here.)


Anchorage of the Tialan Fleet
100 yards offshore of Smuggler's Village
The Long Sea coast
(Northwest coast of the Survival Isthmus, opposite Survival Bay)

Late Afternoon (the same day of the events with Morrow, only earlier):

Paulina looked out beyond her boat's starboard side at the horrific scene unfolding ashore; the slavers -- and, of course, their human cargo -- were trapped between flames on the east and overwhelming numbers of ambushers coming at them from all other directions. She caught sight of a man near the front of the train who'd managed to remain atop of horse even after it had reared several times and avoid the many arrows that were being fired at him and his crew.

Suddenly, he broke free through a gap in the building flames, heading east into the already harvested portion of the grain field. She looked to the ballista, finding it loaded and ready and simply searching for a destination that might not also include one of the very captives who they were trying to rescue.

"Mounted rider!" Paulina called to the weapon's crew, clarifying, "Heading east through the field! Can you pick that fucker off?"

"Yes, Captain!" the man standing at the controls answered as he moved his body to the right and the forward end of the massive ballista bolt to the left. He leaned in, sighted the target, led it by what he believed was the appropriate amount of flight time, and jerked the trigger as he called, "Firing!"

The ballista jerked hard, the bow and stretched lines of its torsion spring throwing the 30-pound bolt out over the water at ten times the speed of the target at which it had been fired. The bolt was aimed a bit too far forward, not that it would matter; it struck the ground a few meters in front of the galloping horse, sinking half of its length but leaving enough still above ground directly in front of the horse to cause the animal to stumble, falling and throwing its rider nearly 10 meters before he hit and rolled several times.

A cheer rose from the boat as Paulina slapped the shooter's back, saying, "Nice work."

After a moment, the man managed to rise unsteadily to his feet. He stumbled about for a moment, moving to his horse only to find it now crippled. He was trying gather his bearings and decide upon his next action when a voice from the nearby boat called out, "We got him, Captain Pee!"

She looked to the boat past her vessel's bow just as their own ballista fired; its crew had been planning on launching a fire bolt at the train but hadn't gotten the chance, but now they set fire to the tip of their missile, took aim, and fired. The bolt shot through the air, slamming amazingly into the man's chest. The slaver practically exploded, the combination of the bolt's size, diameter, and momentum combining with the burning load of oil and cotton to rip his torso in two. His remains would burn to a crisp along with a large patch of grain stubble, leaving only charred meat and bone for the scavengers later in the day and days to come.

With Greta on shore, supervising a unit of her own sailors and marines as well as some of the villagers, Paulina had been left in charge of the fleet. She was neither the oldest of the boat Captains nor the most experienced; hell, she had only recently turned 24 years of age, coincidentally on the same day Princess Luna of the City of Tiala had been crowned Queen Luna of the Republic of Yalla.

The reason for her position as Second-in-Command was that she, like Greta, was from the Royal Family of Suli. Paulina was the cousin-once-removed of Greta and the current Queen of Suli, who of course was Greta's older sister. Add to that that Paulina had spent nearly her entire life on the sea, back to before she could even walk without colliding into objects on deck. No, she wasn't the most experienced or senior Captain of a Suli boat, but -- ironically -- she had more time on the water than any other crew member.

Paulina's father had been the reason for this experience. He'd not only designed the new hull and sail configuration of the Suli warship, creating the fastest moving vessel of its class, but had also invented the mount upon which the ballista was secured to the boat's frame. These advancements had earned him fame and fortune far beyond Suli; boat and naval weapon designers across the Known World had been trying to capture a Sulian boat for years to reverse engineer the designs. Thus far, they'd failed.

"Captain!" one of her crew called out, pointing toward the village. "Look!"

Paulina initially thought he was indicating the battlefield but soon realized that there was someone entering the surf, and that that someone was carrying a body. She moved closer to the boat's railing, shading her eyes from the sun that was shining directly at them and sending a glare across the exceptionally still waters of The Long Sea. Suddenly, Paulina's stomach rolled anxiously; she couldn't identify the body with certainty, but she still knew who it was.

"Launch the skiff!" she commanded. "Get to him. Now!"

To add to their image of having been nothing more than fishing boats, they'd tied a small net-laying skiff to their stern. Two men hurried to leap into it as a third quickly untied it and tossed them rope. Quickly, they rowed for the approaching men, reaching him just as the slight surf was beginning to hit him in the face. The sailors retrieved the body, then tried to pull the man aboard, only to have him refuse and turn back toward shore.

Just as Paulina had feared, she recognized the body as their Admiral, Greta, as the skiff neared. She fought a sob and tear, needing to maintain her composure as she ordered the body brought aboard. The others -- male and female alike -- did their best to hide their despair, but try as they might there were tears, sobs, cries, and angry words.

Greta's body would be returned to her people in the City of Sutla on the Island of Suli and tended to per their traditions. She would be stripped naked by Priestesses of the Church of the Book of Un and bathed from head to toe with herbal oils grown on the island specifically for funeral preparations. Every crevice and pit would be thoroughly cleaned, oiled, and scented for her after-life entry into the House of the Gods, a presentation that included her making love to each God of Un, male and female alike; the sex wasn't about pleasing the Gods but about pleasing, in this case, Greta.

The wound that had resulted in her death would be sewn tightly closed with strong, linen string. Then, the wound would again be sewn closed, this time with thread made of pure gold. Her old wounds would be resewn with the gold as well, to ensure that the Gods noticed the pains she'd suffered in their name.

After all this, Greta wouldn't be redressed; she would meet the Gods in the same manner in which the Gods had created her: naked. She would, however, be wrapped in multiple layers of stark white silk, again created on the Island of Suli, by the Priestesses of the Book of Un. Then, finally, she would be taken to the peak of Mount Suli, an ancient and still active volcano on the Island. It hadn't erupted during the occupation of the island by People, but a fiery, lava pool still boiled day in, day out more than 100 meters below the rim of the 50-meter-wide caldera. Greta would be taken there, prayed over by the Priestesses, and then dropped inside to meet the Gods.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

A few miles south of the House of Reed
Home of Countess Victoria (and her now deceased husband, Peter)

Nearly midnight:

Florence -- now long out of her shackles and recently wrapped in a warrior's blanket to cease her visible shivering -- hesitantly entered one of the three tents that had been erected by the Force of men who'd taken them away from the House of Reed. There was very little open ground for another body to lay down for some badly needed rest, perhaps even sleep. When Florence did see a spot, she moved that direction, only to have a pair of survivors spread out, filling the gap while glaring at her.

Few of the members of the Housekeeping Staff had ever liked Florence, dating back to when the Count had taken a sexual interest in her. She'd done things for Peter that his wife either wouldn't or couldn't. This had angered Countess Victoria, of course, and because her husband had forbidden his wife from taking her anger out on Florence, the Countess had often taken it out on other staff members; sometimes that punishment had been set upon Peter's other lovers, while other times it had been dished out to whomever was within arms-reach.

Florence left the tent, checked for space in the second, found it just as crowded or uninviting, and finally headed for the third. On the way, though, she caught sight of the man who'd rescued them, Lord Morrow. She watched as he wandered away from the camp, disappearing behind a small outcrop of rocks.

She stood there for some time, unsure of what to do or where to go; she couldn't stay out here in the open as the temperature was noticeably dropping and there was also the possibility of rain. Soon, she cause the flickering light of a small fire coming from the direction into which Morrow had disappeared. Florence looked around herself, finding no one paying her any undue attention. She headed the Lord's direction.

She found Morrow laying in a small nook between the boulders, wrapped by his bedding with the flickering reds and oranges dancing on his face. He was staring up at the stars until he caught sight or or heard Florence approaching and lifted his head to look to her. She approached him slowly, smiling, asking, "May I lay next to you, m'lord...? For warmth? I..."

Florence opened her blanket as she knelt next to Morrow, offering, "My blankets with yours ... would keep us very warm ... if we were inside them together, m'lord." If he let her in, Florence would snuggle close to Morrow ... and if he seemed open to it, she would press her lips to his ... and if he allowed that, she would again pull her top down to expose the beautiful, full breasts he'd seen once before and make it obvious that she was his for the asking.

 

[HumanBean]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread


The Dead Coast
About 22 hours from Survival Bay

Early afternoon:

(OOC: Picture Hugo in a shirt. Maybe a pull over that's seen some travel and shows off his muscular torso.)


Hugo caught the sudden surprise in the face of his First Mate as they were talking. He turned to follow the man's gaze. His expression mimicked that of the other man as he found Andrea as he'd never seen her before.

She approached him with confidence, saying, "What can I do, Captain? Put me to work."

Hugo looked her up and down. He'd seen her in figure-hugging clothes before. He'd seen her naked, too. He'd fucked her, of course. And yet seeing her like this, dressed for work, for labor, caused Hugo's cock to come alive.

"I'll be honest with you," she said. "I have no idea what to do aboard a boat. But I'm ready to learn. I ... I believe that I was born for this, Captain Hugo."

He laughed, looking back to his First Mate. He mused, "She was born for this."

He looked back to Andrea again. He looked to the weapons she'd gathered from, he presumed, his sleeping men. He stepped closer, looking into her eyes, and slowly, casually pulled the sword from her belt. He handed it back to his First Mate, telling Andrea, "You won't need that for the work I have in mind for you, m'lady."

Stepping back a bit, Hugo looked around himself. The crew was watching the exchange between him and Andrea. Loudly, for their benefit, not hers, he said, "You can keep the dagger, though. And if any man here so much as touches you with his breath, you may stick that blade deep into his gut."

Hugo looked into the eyes of the men, looking for understanding. He saw it. Then, looking to Andrea again, he said, "Mister Young will find something for you, m'lady." He nodded his head toward his First Mate.

Then, he turned away to speak to the Boatswain and Sailing Master about some issues with the rigging and the handling of the boat. If Andrea had more she wanted to say, Hugo would listen. If she didn't, he'd let her get to work and treat her like just one of the crew.

 

[HumanBean]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

South of the House of Reed
Home of Countess Victoria

Midnight:

Morrow hadn't been expecting company. He'd grasped the hilt of the sword laying by his side. But the flickering flames had illuminated a familiar face.

"May I lay next to you, m'lord...?" Florence asked. "For warmth? I..."

She opened her blanket and knelt next to him. "My blankets with yours ... would keep us very warm ... if we were inside them together, m'lord."

He didn't have to think about it for long. Keeping warm together made sense. And the night was only going to get colder. Possibly wet as well looking at how the clouds were obscuring the stars more progressively.

And then there were Florence's tits. Morrow hadn't forgotten them. He assumed the rest of her body was as spectacular. They and it had been offered to him, of course. No, not just offered. Given, as a possession. Morrow had turned down claiming Florence as his slave. That didn't mean he'd turn her down as a lover, though, if she offered.

Morrow threw back the fur covering. It was on top to protect him from the potential rain. He threw back the wool blanket, too. "Give me your blanket."

She did, and Morrow spread it out over his body. He then tossed it back, too, and gestured her to lay with him. Below them was yet another hide cover, and below it was some dried grass he'd collected from near the outcrop. Together, they kept the chill and wet of the ground at bay.

Florence didn't just lay next to Morrow. She snuggled up tight to him. He pulled each of the layers back over them and pulled her to him. A moment later, after just one look into her eyes, their mouths were together in a wet, energetic, passionate kiss.

His hands found her breasts. Her hands found his cock. Clothes that were keeping them from each other got pulled up or away or loosened as needed be. And soon, Florence was on her back with her knees up and out while Morrow was plunging his cock hard into her warmth and wetness.

She was a fireball beneath Morrow and, later, atop him. He emptied his balls into her twice before they curled up together on their sides to sleep. The rain finally came. They were gentle but cold. Morrow pulled the bedding over their heads to keep them dry.

Later in the night, the horses came alive to the sound of wolves. Morrow awoke, followed by Florence. He was about to rise, fearing for the horses, when one of the canines cried out, wounded by one of Morrow's men. The mayhem ended suddenly, the wolves disappearing into the night.

One of Morrow's men appeared suddenly, carrying a torch. He'd been told to wake his boss in four hours to stand watch. One look at the female in bed with Morrow changed everything. The man said, "We have the watches handled, m'lord. Go back to sleep."

"No, I need to take a turn," Morrow said, rising to a sitting position.

The other man dropped the torch onto the dying fire, kicked some of the collected wood onto the flame, and snatched the footwear being protected from the rain by Morrow's footwear. "Gonna be hard to stand watch with no boots, m'lord."

The man then ran off into the darkness, laughing hysterically. Morrow shook his head, laughed, and laid back to look at the now very awake Florence. He kissed her, rolled her to her side away from him, and again fucked her until each of them was verbally confirming that they'd reached orgasm.

 

[HumanBean]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

(This picks up again from here and here, my last post and my partner's last post, respectively, for these characters.)

Smuggler's Village
On the coastline of The Long Sea
(Northwest of Survival Bay, across Survival Isthmus)

Sundown (the same day of the events with Morrow, only earlier in the night):

Rolph had had to retrieve Philip from the surf, fearing he would allow the Inner Sea to swallow him alive. A pair of equally concerned villagers had hurried over with a donkey pulled cart. They helped get the now-trembling man up back to the reconstituted tent camp and one of the roaring fires.

Rolph signaled to the boats a need to talk. The most senior Captain, a surprisingly young beauty named Paulina, came to shore in a skiff. Rolph introduced himself and shared his regrets for the devasting loss of Greta. "She was more a warrior than most of the men I knew. More than even I am, to be honest."

They spoke about Paulina's intentions for her Admiral's body and the fleet that she was now in charge of. Rolph had not been informed of the conspiracy afoot regarding the line of succession for the Frenkish Thrown. Philip knew, and Luna knew. Greta had known, not that that meant anything now. Had Greta told Paulina? And if she had, would Paulina still be taking part?

"First thing in the morning," Rolph said, "I'm taking my force south to find Lord Morrow. We have to get the supplies that Greta and her ships, your ships, delivered. They will be out of food by now, and they'll be in need of fresh clothes, boots, and the like. Grain for the horses. This is a hard world out here."

They spoke about resupplying Morrow and aiding the villagers, too. Greta had made big promises on Luna's behalf. Rolph wanted to be sure that Paulina would be following through on that, too.

"If your crews want to come ashore, for a night of sleep on ground that doesn't move about," Rolph told her, smiling, "We have room in the tents. They have central smoke holes, so we have fires warming them, too."

He knew that Paulina's crews were used to long periods on the water, of course. But even sailors must prefer a bed that doesn't rock and a fire that emits great warmth.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread


The Dead Coast
About 16 hours from Survival Bay

After dark:

Andrea was exhausted by the time the First Mate told her she could knock off for the night; the man had taken Hugo's instructions to find her some work seriously, putting her to scrubbing decks, wrapping lines, helping cook the evening meal, and even climbing the Junk's main mast to replace the pennant at sundown; that last one she would realize had been a hazing event by the time she returned to the main deck and the entire crew was laughing at her.

She took it well, though, giving them all a curtsey while smiling and calling out to them, "Fuck you ... fuck you very much."

While she'd done a great many things that had been new and strange to her, the newest and strangest had been not interacting with Hugo; from the moment that he'd put her in the care of his First Mate, her rapist, lover, master, and commander hadn't spoken to Andrea or even made eye contact with her. Only when she got cold, asked the First Mate for permission to go below for a jacket, and entered Hugo's cabin to find him looking over charts of the Dead Coast did she make eye contact with him for the first time.

"Captain, m'lord ... or whatever it is that I'm supposed to call you ... Hugo," she said tipping her hat as she'd been taught to do by the First Mate as a sign of respect to others, "I hope that I haven't done anything to embarrass or anger or disappoint you today. I want you to know that ... that I am yours to command ... entirely ... and without reservations. If you want a slave, I am your slave. If you want a deck hand or grub cook or ... well, I don't know any other positions by name other than that ... but my point is, I am that if you wish it."

Andrea took a step forward, reaching to the space between her boosted breasts to begin unhooking her blouse's hooks from their eyelets as she told him with a sincere tone, "If you want to rape me again ... and again ... and again..."

She would continue undressing until she was entirely naked if Hugo neither did nor said anything to indicate that that wasn't what he wanted.

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

(OOC: A <18 year old character is introduced below. She will not be involved in ANY sexual content WHATSOEVER; I don't even include a picture of her.)

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>​

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

(This picks up again from here and here, my last post and my partner's last post, respectively, for these characters.)

Smuggler's Village
On the beach

Sundown (the same day of the events with Morrow, only earlier in the night):

Paulina was rowed ashore in the skiff by four of her crew, meeting with Rolph on the beach and immediately asking, "How is your man ... the one who delivered Admiral Greta to use earlier ... Philip, I believe?"

Rolph caught her up on his condition, after which Paulina told him, "Anything you need for him or any of your people, you have only to ask." She looked toward the tent camp, asking, "I believe that our Surgeon is still here, yes?"

They discussed some of the details of the battle, as well as the loss of Greta. Rolph told her with a sincere tone, "She was more a warrior than most of the men I knew. More than even I am, to be honest."

"I don't know about that, m'lord Rolph," Paulina responded. "I have been hearing tales of your exploits through the day ... from Greta earlier ... and others. I believe we have several heroes in our midst today."

Paulina explained that Greta's boat would leave in the morning to take her body home to Suli for its delivery to the Gods. She didn't go into what that entailed, except to say, "The funeral rites take place over five days. Greta would have been honored to have you present for them, I believe ... but -- because she is of Royal blood -- our beliefs do not permit even those who fought with her in her final moments to be present. I am very sorry about that, Lord Windham. Windham...? That is correct, yes?"

Rolph told her that his given name was enough, then inquired about the plans for the rest of the ships of the Tiala fleet. Paulina hesitated before responding; she'd been informed by Greta of the plan to help Lady Imogen become Heir Apparent to the Frenkish Imperial Throne, but she knew no names of other conspirators other than Philip and Queen Luna, so she was hesitant to speak of it, even with Rolph.

"I was ordered to provide Viscount Morrow Tyne with any and all assistance he needed," Paulina told Rolph with a formal tone. "You are his representative here ... therefore, I am at your service, m'lord."

He informed Paulina that he'd be taking his men and the supplies south in the morning to Morrow. He spoke of that which the Force must be dealing by now, saying, "This is a hard world out here."

"It is indeed, m'lord," she said. When he offered her crews warm, dry, stable sleeping accommodations for the night, Paulina thanked him but said, "That is very kind, m'lord, but my crews need to remain at their posts ... and those who will be on sleep breaks need to be close at hand as well."

She looked off toward the boats, bobbing in the Inner Sea; the wind was picking up, and she knew that things would be getting a bit rougher during the night. "It will rain tonight for sure, m'lord. I would recommend that you capture as much fresh water as you can ... and get as many of the villagers under cover as possible."

Paulina had been informed that of Greta's people involved in the battle on land, they'd lost one male and had one male and two females injured. "Could you point me to the Surgeons tent, m'lord? I'd like to check in with the injured."

Rolph led Paulina to the tent, where she found the Tiala fleet's surgeon and several assistants working on a dozen injured men and women. She checked with each of her people, learning that they would need to remain behind for at least a couple of days recovery. Paulina told Rolph, "I'll leave one boat behind ... to aid you as necessary, and to return my Surgeon to me when he's ready and return my injured to Tiala."

Paulina caught sight of a scared, young thing hiding in the corner of the tent on her hands and knees. Crossing over slowly toward the girl, Paulina smiled, dropped to her own hands and knees, and asked with a gentle tone, "And who might you be?"

The girl didn't respond, but an injured woman nearby -- one of the freed captives who'd already been treated and had remained solely to watch over the girl -- said, "We're not entirely certain who she is ... or where she came from."

"She's not from the village then?" Paulina asked, an inquiry that was confirmed by the caretaker. "Then she was on the slave wagon?" Again, confirmation. To the caretaker, Paulina whispered, "Do we know if ... you know ... was she--?"

"Violated...?" the woman asked. "No, m'lady. We're certain she was not touched. She hasn't been out of my sight since they first found her wandering the swamp. No one touched her. I made sure of it. I, um ... I had to ... you know ... to make sure that--"

Paulina understood that the woman was saying that she'd sacrificed her own self to ensure that no one touched the girl.

(Part two is next. I just couldn't stop writing. Don't hate me.)

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

(Part two. Please see the note in the above post about the age of the new character below. It is totally innocent.)

(OOC: Map of the Known World)

Paulina studied her for a long moment, then asked the girl, "Do you know where you come from...? A city...? A kingdom? Maybe the Frenkish Empire or the Meretheni Federation or The Fenwater or Vint--" The girl's eyes opened wider at that last word, leading Paulina to ask, "Are you from Vint...? The City of Vint ... or Virta...? Maybe the Provinces...?"

Suddenly the girl began rambling rapidly in a language that Paulina didn't understand or even recognize; she became very animated with her hands as well, seemingly pointing directions at times while gesturing physical actions -- punches, blade stabs, and more -- at other times. It was obvious that the girl was telling a meaningful story, but Paulina simply didn't understand what it was supposed to mean.

"She's from The Nurva," a woman on the other side of the tent spoke up. "I've heard that before. That's where she's from."

Paulina waved the woman over, saying, "The City of Nurva isn't in Vint. It's 500 kilometers away in Frenk."

"Not the City of Nurva," the woman said, her face beginning to show signs of deep fear as she clarified with stress on her first word, "The Nurva, m'lady. The ... oh, I can't even speak of it, m'lady."

Paulina suddenly realized what the woman was not saying and laughed. "The Nurva...? The Hills of Nurva...? As in the Haunted Hills of Nurva ... north of the Capital City of Vint."

The girl hadn't stopped rambling during the exchange between Paulina and the newest member of the conversation, and now she suddenly began intermixing words that caught the others' attention: Nurva, ghosts, Vint, hills, and other words that seemed to support the concept that the young thing was in fact from the mystical Haunted Hills of Nurva, otherwise known solely as The Nurva.

Paulina thought about the situation a moment, then -- involving the others in the conversation, which now also included Rolph -- asked, "So, this girl has no one to care for her, correct...?" The answer was no. She looked to Rolph, asking, "And she's most definitely not one of the captives from this Viscount Ulronni's slave trade conspiracy...?" Again, the answer was no.

She looked to the girl, who'd finally gone quiet as she realized that so many people were now focusing their attention on her. Paulina asked slowly, "Do ... you ... understand me?" The girl nodded emphatically. "Are you from The Nurva?" The girl rambled quickly again, but nothing she said seemed to answer the question in anyway. Paulina gestured her quiet, then asked, "Would you like to stay with me and my people for a while ... until you and I can learn to speak with each other better...? I'll make sure that you are safe ... that you are fed and clothed and have a warm, dry place to sleep at night."

The girl looked down at her ragged clothes that barely hid her very developed womanly features. Paulina estimated that the girl was likely no more than 14 years of age. This was something that would have made her very valuable in Morinth or Kinth or any other Meretheni Federation cities where the Teachings of the Book of Un regarding the protection of the innocence of girls younger than 18 were not observed by many if not most men of wealth or power.

"Clothes...?" the girl asked with a big smile and hopeful tone. "Warm ... clothes?"

"Yes," Paulina said with a tone of promise. "Warm and dry and--" She reached out to politely lift the front of the girl's dress to hide her more exposed than not bosom as she added, "--covering of your body." As the girl smiled to her with obvious joy, Paulina asked again, "Would you like to stay with me...? Go with me to my home, where I can--"

"Yes!" the girl said excitedly, suddenly leaping forward to throw her arms around Paulina. She began rambling in her own language again, finally pulling back to look Paulina in the eyes. She began tapping a fingertip repeatedly to her sternum with such force that it pained Paulina to hear and see it, rambling again for a long moment before suddenly stopping and saying clearly, "Greta!"

Everyone standing around her -- which also now included Philip, who'd regained his body heat and senses and had sat on a stool nearby -- seemed shocked at the girl's use of the word of their recently killed comrade. The girl looked around, making eye contact with many of those paying her attention but then, quite noticeably, making eye contact with Philip.

She rose to her knees, paused, then rose to her feet, paused again, then stepped forward until she was close enough to the Philip to reach out a hand and gently place it upon the man's chest. She began speaking softly in her still unidentified language directly to Philip, smiling the entire time, before taking his face in her hands, looking him deeply in the eyes, and saying in the clearest Common Tongue that she'd used thus far, "Greta lives ... in you ... Philipinasto Ruiz'alto Wyk."

Then, she moved forward to sit on Philip's lap, wrap one arm around his neck ... and simply fell fast asleep in his arms. Paulina just stared between the pair as Philip made sure that the girl didn't fall to the ground, before finally asking with a tone of shock and confusion, "Philip ... what the fuck was that?"

 

[MarieDavisRPs]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

Southwest of the House of Reed, Home of Countess Victoria
Northwest of Survival Bay Wetlands and Survival Bay itself

After the wolf attack:

Florence's heart pounded fast and hard as she exploded in ecstasy again. As she was spooned by Morrow, she pressed her ass back at him with what ability she had to help him drive himself deep into her until he, too, came once again. She relaxed finally, listening to him grunt and groan as he once again filled her with his seed.

Then, she began laughing, her emotions absolutely out of control for nearly a minute. When she finally regained her senses, She rolled to look into Morrow's face, smiling. She explained her humor, "That man stole your boots ... so that you couldn't stand watch ... so that you would have to stay here ... and fuck me." She laughed again, adding, "I have never known a man in all my life that would have done that for another man."

They laughed and chatted and kissed and caressed one another, after which Florence became more serious and told Morrow, "Countess Victoria owned me, m'lord. I was her Indentured Servant. I owed her three more years of servitude." She kissed Morrow again, then continued, "She gave me to you ... gave me to you to be your slave."

She rolled more, slipping atop Morrow's body as she reached down to take hold of his cock, now in a semi-flaccid state after having already spent its load in her at least twice, maybe thrice? She worked it toward stiffness again, then began to put it inside her again as she said, "I owe you three years, m'lord. You cannot refuse me. You cannot simply give me my freedom. My Servitude is a matter of Frenkish Law."

As she forced pussy down past Morrow's bulbous head and around his cock, she told him firmly, "You must request ... what's it called ... compensation ... dispensation! You must get it through a Frenkish Court, m'lord. You cannot simply release me ... free me ... nor can your Queen, Queen Luna."

She began fucking Morrow more animatedly as she finished the reasoning for telling him all this: "My brother and sister are being held in bondage ... in the City of Tut ... until I fulfill my period of Indentured Servitude. To not fulfill this obligation would mean that they would be held indefinitely, m'lord. Please ... please, do not cast me aside and leave them in slavery for the rest of their lives."

 

[HumanBean]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

The Dead Coast
About 16 hours from Survival Bay

After dark:

Hugo had never had a lover as part of his crew before Andrea. Actually, he wasn't even sure whether or not Andrea was his lover. He'd been raping her. Before that, she been raping him.

Regardless, Hugo hadn't known how to deal with her now. She'd announced to him that she was his crew. She'd announced that. Not him.

So, Hugo had done as he would with any new crew member. He'd turned Andrea over to his First Officer for assignment. And then, so long as she hadn't become a disciplinary issue, Hugo had no reason to interact with her.

Honestly, he'd expected her to come begging for relief hours earlier. She was a Nobleman's prissy little daughter. She probably hasn't worked a real day of labor in her life. Being raped again would likely be a welcomed break from what the First Mate was putting her through.

Yet! Each time Hugo inconspicuously checked on Andrea, she was still working. She was slowing down. He could see that. She was taking more water breaks. Her skin often glistened from a layer of sweat. And yet!

Ultimately, they finally did end up together. Andrea came to Hugo's searching for a change of clothes. Clean or dirty, hers or someone else. It didn't seem to matter to her.

Andrea found Hugo there. She said, "I hope that I haven't done anything to embarrass or anger or disappoint you today," Andrea told Hugo.

"You haven't," he told her. He'd ignored her for most of the day. She deserved to know the reason. "I simply had to treat like I would any male crew member."

Andrea told Hugo that she was his to command, entirely and without reservations. "If you want a slave, I am your slave..."

She continued speaking as she also began undressing. Hugo did nothing to stop her. He'd seen her naked before, of course. He'd very much liked it.

Her blouse and vest together fell away. Andrea's delicious, bountiful bosom was on full display. Hugo had, of course, roughly clutched at those wonderful orbs with fiercely grasping fingers. He'd pinched their pert nipples so hard that Andrea had winced and cried in pain.

Now, though, all he wanted to do was suckle them between kind lips. He wanted to swirl the tip of his tongue about them. He wanted to make Andrea moan and pull him to her. Begging more, don't stop.

She continued, "If you want to rape me again, and again ... and again..."

Andrea continued undressing. Her borrowed trousers fell down to gather about her knees. Her tall boots wouldn't permit them to be discarded any farther.

Andrea's undergarment had been pushed off her hips as well. The clothes bunched about her knees and thighs. Hugo could very well bend Andrea over and rape her now if he chose to do so. As she was telling him he was permitted to do so. Was invited to do.

Yet, he commanded firmly, "Stop!"

Hugo walked from around his table full of charts and moved to Andrea. He paused, looking her body over with a hungry ogle.

Then, he looked her in the eyes. "I will never rape you again, Andrea."

Hugo swept her easily up into his arms. He carried her go his bed, setting her down gently.

"If you will permit me, though," he said as he unlaced her boots, "I would make love to you. Again. And again. And. Again."

And they would do precisely that. For as long as Andrea had the energy and desire to do so.

Hugo began theirlove making with his mouth upon her pussy. It had been years since he'd pleased a woman orally. Even then, it had only been because he'd been commanded to do so. As a slave. To his Master's patron.

Tonight, Hugo did so as Andrea's lover. Tonight, he did anything and everything Andrea wanted. As her lover.

 

[HumanBean]

Map of the Known World -- OOC thread

Southwest of the House of Reed, Home of Countess Victoria
Northwest of Survival Bay Wetlands and Survival Bay itself

Hours after the wolf attack and their first fuck:

Morrow welcomed Florence atop him again. He helped her find his cock, putting it where it had enjoyed itself so much earlier in the night. Twice.

He'd laughed with her regarding having his boots stolen to prevent him from standing watch. To prevent him from leaving this beautiful woman's side.

But then she began speaking about her status as an Indentured Servant. And about how Morrow himself was now her Master.

"I owe you three years, m'lord," she told him as they began fucking once more.

"You owe me nothing, Florence," Morrow countered.

"You cannot refuse me," she told him.

"But I can," he persisted. "I own you, remember?"

But she ignored Morrow's logic. "You cannot simply give me my freedom. My Servitude is a matter of Frenkish Law."

He laughed. That caused his cock to twitch about inside her. That caused both of them an unexpected moment of pleasure.

Morrow regained his composure. He told her, "Frenkish Law does not apply in this case. Your case. You are now..."

Morrow had to pause. The pleasure Florence's pussy was causing him was growing rapidly. He was amazed at how she could do this to him again.

He managed between breaths, "You are, a citizen, of the Republic, of Yalla, now--"

And yet, Florence persisted as well. "You must request ... what's it called ... compensation...?"

Morrow knew where she was going. He corrected, "Dispensation."

"Dispensation!" she repeated. "You must get it through a Frenkish Court, m'lord."

Morrow wanted to counter Florence. He wanted to explain that she no longer served Count Peter. Or Countess Victoria. Or the Frenkish Empire.

But what she was doing to him, even while still making her own argument, was overwhelming.

"You cannot simply release me ... free me..." Florence said as she somehow continued to fucked him fast, hard, and deep. She added, "...nor can your Queen, Queen Luna."

Between struggling breaths, Morrow reminded Florence, "Your! Queen!"

Then, Morrow grunted loudly as he exploded yet again. His exclamation excited of the rocks into the dark of the night. His body trembled. His brain swam in swirled.

He eventually collapsed, playfully mumbling between breaths, "Dear. Gods. No. More. I can't."

Florence gave Morrow the time he need to fully enjoy his orgasm. When he finally opened his eyes, she explained, "My brother and sister are being held in bondage ... in the City of Tut ... until I fulfill my period of Indentured Servitude."

Morrow continued breathing heavily. His body was still trembling. His heart still pounded like a hammer in a slave prison quarry.

And yet suddenly, the joy was gone. Florence explained more about her obligation. She begged, "Please ... please, do not cast me aside and leave them in slavery for the rest of their lives."

"Of course not," Morrow whispered without hesitation. Then he thought more on it. How was he supposed to free Florence's siblings? From bondage? In Tut?

Still, he continued, "I'll fix this, Florence. I vow to you, I'll get them free. You, free, as well."

Morrow's brain was suddenly filled with memories of a previous commitment. To Stella. His betrothed.

He'd practically abandoned Stella to go east to rescue Rolph and Philip. He'd saved then, of course. And now he was balls deep in his own personal slave making promises regarding her family?

What about the family he wanted to begin with Stella? They'd begun working on that, of course. They'd fucked each other to great heights of ecstasy, despite not yet being married.

And then his brain suddenly went to another family. To Clara's. To his? Morrow's seed had planted itself within her. He had already started a family with her.

Of course, Clara didn't want Morrow to be her child's father. She'd told Rolph that. He wasn't to have informed Morrow of her being with child in the first place.

Morrow needed to think. He needed space. He gently rolled Florence off him, rose, and dressed. "I need to check the Watch. I'll be back before dawn."

It had stopped raining long ago. The embers of the fire were still hot. Morrow spent a few minutes stoking and feeding the fire before leaving.