Matilda's father was physically weak but, like his daughter, brave. During a siege in the Holy Land he had been rescued by Baron Gwilliam and had placed himself under a debt of honour. Unfortunately, the Baron was not a man of honour. When they were back in England he asked for the debt had to be paid by sending Matilda's brother to join him on a crusade. The Baron knew the boy was weak and everyone feared for him. His sister loved him dearly and believed him unlikely to survive the expedition. She therefore travelled with her brother to Gwilliam's castle.
On arrival she asked to meet the Baron in private and pleaded for her brother to be excused. 'How will the debt be paid?' demanded Gwilliam with a broad smile. 'I know not,' she said.
'If I will not have your brother, I will have you,' declared the baron. 'We leave in one week. Until next Saturday you will be my wife.'
The blood drained from Matilda's face. Her eyes opened like saucers. Gazing through him and through the cold stone of the castle walls she asked for one hour to decide. The Baron nodded.
An hour later she returned and asked: 'Do I have your absolute word of honour that you will release me and my brother if I do as you wish?'.
'You do,' he replied.
'Then take me,' she said.
Having had many first nights with village girls the Baron was matter-of-fact about the proceedings - and curious about whether high-born girls were any different to fuck.
'Disrobe,' he said. She hesitated. 'Do it,' he snarled. She lowered her head and he watched as her outer and inner garments came off. When she was bare his eyes widened. Before him was the fresh young body of a brave and beautiful 18 year old. There was a mole on her left shoulder. He reached to cup the most perfect breasts he had ever seen. Her sweetness and vulnerability made him feel coarse.
Facing her, the Baron removed his own clothes to reveal a powerful physique. His hair was rich and black. His muscles bulged. His arms were battle scarred. Her eyes still cast down, Matilda watched as his great penis rose with a gleaming head from its thicket of black curls. It was thick and strong.
The Baron lifted her in his arms like a child and thrust his bushy beard into her soft tummy. She squirmed. He put his mouth to her breast and sucked as much of it as he could into his mouth.
She feinted and he laid her tummy-up on a heavy oak table. His great hands felt her tummy and his thumbs opened her vulva. Then he pressed his mouth to her lower lips, sucking them as he had sucked her breasts. She did not revive. Muttering to himself 'this will be good', he turned her over, felt her soft bottom and pulled her still-limp body towards his cock, intending to take her like any other girl.
As her feet touched the floor he spread her legs and prepared to plough her. Then the girl and her fighting spirit revived. With calculated energy she kicked, wriggled and fought him off. His penis took a heavy blow and he stood back. She slithered to the floor and curled into a ball, looking soft, sweet and baby-like.
A touch of pity entered the Baron's heart. Her total vulnerability, nudity and availability reminded him of an Arab slaver he had known in Aleppo. His way with girls could be very hard and very soft.
Most girls, the slaver told him, did as they were told. They would undress, bend over, open their legs, suck a man's cock, fondle his balls or lick his arse. You had only to point. Their parents had taught them to obey men and they knew the slaver to be a hard man. The Arabs, he said, liked spirited girls, horses and camels. So the slaver had learned how to break-in hot blooded girls without crushing their spirits.
On a warm morning the slaver brought a proud beauty into the sun and laid her on a mattress. She was told open her legs and hook her arms round them. This exposed her smooth and shaven cunt. Then the Arab taught him how to stimulate her clitoris. He stroked it, rolled it and flicked it until the girl's juices began to flow. The Baron was then invited to do likewise but with his mouth and tongue. Guttural groans came from the girl.
If a girl disobeyed the slaver he would have them tied. His assistants oiled the girls before they were brought in. Fastening a girl's hands behind her back with a silken cord was often enough and customers liked the way it pushed their breasts forward. Their bodies gleaming like sun on water.
More difficult girls were tied in a standing position with their legs and arms splayed to bars. Eliciting responses could be fun and he kept a pot of warm oil to work into their bums. Few things pleased him more than watching a girl's face as he slid his fingers into first one hole and then the other.
The slaver would also make girls lie back, or squat, with their knees apart. Then they had to bring themselves off. The way they did this, he said, told you much about the girl's sexual nature and how best to ride them. After the girls had reached orgasm with their fingers he would bring them off in the same way. He spoke to them like babies and sucked their juices till they simpered.
'There now. Te-te-te. Be calm. Boo-boo-boo. Open wide. Come on. Wider. There, there. Come, come, now. That's a lovely girl.' Compliments worked better than cruelty.