Warm afternoon sunlight filtered through tall, dilapidated buildings. The air was sour with the scent of offal from nearby butchers and emptied chamber pots. Agnes stepped lightly around puddles on the dirty, uneven ground. She held a wicker basket against her hip and a dainty hand over her nose while praying for a cool breeze to move the stale air.
Nearly all the lords and ladies were busy at the wedding with their fancy clothes and jewelry while she sweated through the stench of the lower city. She breathed heavily and then swallowed, holding back the urge to vomit in the streets.
Peasants bustled around her. They called to each other, filling the air with the noise of their gossip and wares for sale. She waved at a few acquaintances with her free hand but continued on. Matilda awaited her back at the castle and she was eager to return. Although the wedding ceremony itself was held at the cathedral, the new couple would return to the castle for the feast in their honor. When the nobles were finished and in their beds, they wouldn't care or even think about what happened to the leftover food and drink. They would have their own feast then and she dreamed of dancing with Ralf through the empty great hall.
The young scullery maid smiled sweetly and twirled in the street, sidestepping a yellow puddle as she imagined herself in a pretty dress that she'd never own.
Sweat rolled down her face, mixing with traces of dirt. She rubbed at her cheeks with her hand, sighing at the streaks of mud it left behind. The heat was stifling and the air seemed to be holding its breath. She shrugged, pulling her basket higher on her hips while quickening her pace.
The King's Peace finally stood before her. Agnes looked around, rubbing at her arms while frowning. The oppressing stillness in the air intensified as she'd walked. She whirled, suddenly certain someone was standing behind her. An old man screeched at his wife across the lane but she was otherwise alone. Still, she shivered as if a cold hand caressed her neck.
No dogs or cats filled the lane. Only now did she realize they were missing. Her path was usually cursed with stray, mangy hounds playing and fighting and begging for food. Scrawny cats, too poor at hunting mice to be given a warm spot inside, normally mewled piteously or fought with roaming dogs or slowly stalked the few birds that chanced to land within reach. She could spy none of them and hadn't remembered any since she left the castle.
A passing woman stopped mid stride to stare at the sky. The old woman's toothless mouth worked as she considered the clouds far above. Satisfied with whatever she saw, she forked her fingers in a strange sign while whispering under her breath. The woman turned on her heel to hobble with ungainly speed back the way she'd come.
"Don't pay her no mind, girl," a gruff voice said behind her. The inn's guard, Albin, sat back against the wall. His eyes were red and he hid a wide yawn behind the back of his hand. "Crazy old woman doesn't do nothin' but walk the road mumblin' to hesself all day. Go on in, now."
Agnes gave a brief curtsy when Albin kicked the door open with his heel. The heat inside the inn was nearly intolerable. Even with the windows opened, the air refused to move and the sparse patrons seemed in a daze. The inn's serving girl, Lina, gave a feeble wave before disappearing into the kitchen to fetch a customer's order.
The young woman moved through the huge, open room to the back. She gave the kitchen wide berth. It seemed a living creature with a clanging heart and fiery breath that only added to the pervasive mugginess filling the inn.
Finally, she arrived at the open storeroom. Set further back and above the inn's meager ice room, it was cooler and she sighed in relief. The girl set her basket down and leaned back against the wall with her eyes closed. Her head felt tight and full and ready to burst from the weather, distant stench and oppressing mood filling the air. She began to grow drowsy in the cool room until the loud bang of the inn's door being slammed open startled her. Cursing her sudden weariness, she grabbed her basket and began to collect the items from her list.
Lost in her own thoughts and moving sluggishly she didn't hear the man until he was at her shoulder. His whispering voice was low and hungry. "I thought I smelled you."
Agnes screamed, dropping her basket. She turned, pushing herself back against the shelves. A glass jar shattered near her feet. Before her, a hulking man stood hunched in the middle of the room. His sand colored hair was shaggy and in disarray and stubble covered his pale cheeks.
"Ralf!" Agnes gasped. Her lover's shirt hung loosely against his wide body but his pants clung tightly to him, bulging at the waist. Agnes glanced down, blushed and then glanced back up to his eyes. They were wild with too much white showing and he seemed to be breathing hard. "Aren't you supposed to be-"
He moved, grabbing her wrist in a strong, rough hand. He twisted, pushing her painfully against the nearby wall. She could feel his hot breath on her face. He kissed her cheek and neck awkwardly while rubbing himself against her. She could feel his excitement even through her tunic. His free hand traced down her body, gripping her breast painfully before sliding down to grab her hip. He grunted and pulled her back, the hand holding her wrist coming down to grab her neck.
"Y-you're hurting me, Ralf," Agnes said. He released her throat and his weight shifted against her, pulling back. She tried to slip away but his grip on her waist tightened. Cool air swirled against her thighs as the man pulled her tunic up to expose her. "S-s-slow down, I can't- oh!"
She felt him against her, hard and hot, his manhood on her bare lower back. She tried to move again but he was suddenly against her, his teeth nipping at her ear. He moaned, low and deep without speaking. His hand grabbed at her chest and then higher to her collar, tugging and pulling until he gave up to slip within to grab her bare breast. The man's hips rocked back and forth behind her, the head of his cock slipping between her ass cheeks before gliding against her back, slick with thick pre-cum.
A small part of her felt the shame that this wasn't their first time together. They'd spent many hidden moments away from their parents, finding empty nooks and rooms where they could explore each other. Bright moments of hot passion and happiness in their rough, low lives.
But not this. He'd always been gentle. Almost shy with her. He was the son of a cobbler raised with loving parents and he'd always treated her with love.
She shook and twisted, trying to get away but he held her tight, licking her neck and cheek while thrusting against her. He held her breast with one hand and her hip with the other. Her young lover lifted her body one-handed and she cried out when she felt his cock press against her sex.
"I'll- I'll scream, Ralf! Stop! I'll-" Agnes kicked, grabbing at the man's wrist when he pushed against her. He growled and pushed harder, angry at her dryness.
"'Gonna spread you open," he panted near her ear before licking it again. His broad, coarse tongue lashed at her soft skin and hair. The young cobbler took his hand from within her tunic. He shoved her forward hard against the wall just as she began to scream and the air rushed from her lungs. His hands squeezed her slim ass cheeks and he pulled, trying to spread her open to his continued thrusting. "Fuck you. Gonna fuck you and breed you like a bitch, Agnes. Gonna mount you and fuck you."
The pain between her legs was sharp and intense and she felt as if she'd tear at any moment. He seemed huge against her and she prayed that whatever madness had taken him would pass quickly. That he'd grew frustrated that she wouldn't-
She screamed when he finally entered her. He filled her completely and the agony of it drove her to tears. Ignoring her whimpering and shaking, he thrust quickly in and out. His guttural language devolved into grunts and growls and panting until she felt him tense against her, spilling his hot seed deep within. She prayed he would stop. Prayed that with his release, he would leave her to her shame and suffering. She could feel his hot cum dribbling down her thighs and the sudden wetness within only drove him more wild. He forced her to her knees and then all fours, growling as he pounded her from behind.
Her vision began to dim and she welcomed it. Before she could faint, Ralf stopped mid-thrust. She heard him growl again and he pulled out of her with a wet pop. A torrent of his cum followed, spurting to the ground. She trembled and tried to speak but her throat was too dry.
