Willa did not know how much time passed before another person entered the small room. It had felt like days but it could have been hours. She was sore and laying on the hard ground for so long felt almost as hard on her broken ribs as the horse was. When another soul finally entered the room, it was a very serious Barr and an imposing cloaked figure who poked and prodded her unpleasantly with lithe hands.
The cloaked figure said nothing as it examined every crevice of Willa's body, taking the time to press and knead her breasts until they hurt. Unlike the bearded marauder's hands, these hands were cold and cruel. She could glimpse only the figure's mouth and chin, which were painted a vibrant crimson. When it seemed satisfied, the figure gestured for the raider standing behind it and Barr moved toward Willa. The hooded figure dropped a strange cylindrical pillow on the ground and settled a bucket into the corner of the room while Barr forced her to her back so her hips were lifted by the pillow before straddling her stomach and pinning her with his weight so he was facing away from her.
The trader did not struggle as the marauder untangled the bola and her jeans from her legs. She was immensely thankful to have the bruisingly tight chain removed. However, Willa would have preferred to forego the cotton rope it was swiftly replaced with.
Willa did begin to struggle when Barr pryed her knees apart, exposing her completely to the hooded stranger. When Willa felt something cold and hard press against her exposed entrance she yelped and began to strain harder against the man on top of her.
The metal pressed deeper and deeper until it was settled firmly inside of her. She bit her lip as the metal began expanding, stretching her wide open and exposing her deepest, most intimate flesh to the air. Willa had never experienced anything like it and she was frightened that it would ruin her. Tears rolled over her face.
Just when the stretching sensation became almost too much to bear, it locked in place. Willa trembled under Barr as the cloaked stranger used its cruel fingers to press against her insides. She was afraid to move, worried that whatever was inside her would hurt if she did. After a clinical exploration of her stretched hole, the figure swirled something silky and wet around her tightest, untouched hole and Willa forgot the metal inside her. She bucked against Barr and tried twist away but he was like a boulder.
The hooded figure stood, pausing its violation of her body, and approaching Willa. It did something out of her sight before appearing and looking down on her. Willa gasped at what she saw.
The cloaked figure was a woman with a lovely round face and plump lips. She had the echo of wrinkles around her eyes, which were unpainted. Her pleasant face was framed with blond waves dusted with white hair. Willa thought she might be a strange and terrifying goddess.
The woman knelt and pressed a soft cloth against her face. With her other small hand, she stroked Willa's hair. Willa tried to pull her face away from the sweet smell but the cloaked woman held it firmly over her mouth and nose. The room seemed to slur and the sweet chemical invading her breathing passages left her feeling weightless and relaxed. The cloaked woman disappeared from her line of sight once more before she felt a finger prodding at her most forbidden place once again.
"Stop," Willa tried to voice her protest but the word came out slurred and her struggles had weakened. When the invading finger pressed past her tight ring of muscle, Willa's stomach twisted and she felt the last shreds of her dignity slipping away. Tears formed in her eyes again, blurring her sight even further. The stranger's long, slender digit pressed into her until it was knuckle deep and Willa felt her muscle clenching involuntarily around the invasion. The woman felt her deeply, at one point even pressing down on the finger through Willa's womanhood and examining the fleshy barrier between them thoroughly. Shame burned in Willa as she knew the cloaked woman felt how soaked she was at the attentions. Thankfully, the woman said nothing and withdrew her touch after finishing her exam. The metal object inside her was also withdrawn with a slurp that made her blush.
Barr and the cloaked woman left quietly, leaving Willa with the pillow and bucket. She wriggled until her neck was resting over the pillow and she was curled on her side again. Alone once more, the merchant let herself cry.
Willa's insides were sore and she felt cold from the inside out. Her stomach desperately yearned for sustenance and she knew the bucket was there for her to relieve herself but she didn't go near it until she was desperate. All she could think about was escape. This could not be her life. She wanted to taste the dust in the air and feel the warmth of the red sun on her back. She wanted to walk until her body ached and watch the dust dunes flow into scraggly pine stands and then towering forests. She wanted to taste new things and meet new people. She didn't want to die as the plaything of some marauder.
The light in her little room never went off or dimmed, so Willa was completely without time. She had slept initially due to exhaustion but she hadn't slept at all since, except for in small exhausted naps. It felt like days, or weeks, that she was in that room, with arms twisted uncomfortably behind her back and her bruised ankles roped together.
Occasionally, and erratically, her keeper would come to her with more salve or water for her thirsty lips. He never brought her food but his touch was gentle and each time he spoke she felt a little less alone in her tiny new world. She found with disgust that she began to anticipate his presence. Willa knew his game but she had to play if she wanted his trust.
Already, she had learned his name. She beckoned it from him by stroking his pride. Jorvun. He was generally very somber when he came to her, but she had become more adept at coaxing emotion from him. He had even cracked a tiny smirk when she jested at his scar.
Sure, there were a few things she had yet to wrap her mind around. For one, he hadn't touched her again except to tend her welts or softly check her bruising. For another, she had almost begun to attribute the horrid encounter with the cloaked woman to a nightmarish vision as she had seen no other face but his since then and although she was sore between her legs, Jorvun had also pushed fingers into her with possessive force.
Willa had begun to wonder if she was meant to starve in her little room when Jorvun came to her and wordlessly untied her ankles, which had now healed to a pale greenish color. She could not stop her sigh of relief as she rolled her sore ankles. Jorvun gripped the back of her neck and pushed her forward softly. She stayed put when he let go of her and moved to unbind her arms. When she was finally free, she stretched her sore muscles, careful to avoid hurting her injured ribs.
