A Fate Worse Than Death

Gavin, Count of Barrovia stood on the battlefield, his armour and sword drenched in the blood of his enemies. He looked around. The mud strewn field was littered with the bodies of the dead, both his own and the Duke's, but his army had emerged victorious.

Some of the men were scavenging armour, weapons, and money. Others were putting an end to the wounded enemy. A small bank of unarmed men ran about the battle field, taking those who could be saved to the healing tents, and slashing the throats of those that could not.

Reaching down, Gavin ripped a piece of cloth from a dead man's tunic, cleaned his sword, and slammed it into its sheath.

"A fine victory, my lord." Edwin, Gavin's most trusted advisor, approached across the chaos. His clothes were crisp and clean, saving the smattering of mud and blood around the ankles. "We should see to the captives now though." He grinned.

Gavin smiled too. "Has the Duke's body been located?" he asked.

"Not yet." Edwin's smile flickered from his face for the briefest of moments. "But his retinue remains in his tents on the far side of the field."

Gavin turned his head toward the small cluster of tents which, still smouldering from the barrage of burning arrows, housed the followers of the Duke. It was the custom of the region to bring one's entire household to battle; wives, children, servants and all. Throwing the now sodden rag to the floor, Gavin made his way toward the tents. The sun setting in the mountains cast an aptly red hue across the carnage between him and his goal.

At the tents, Edwin's personal guard had rounded up all the survivors and had them kneeling in three groups; men, women and children. Gavin cast an eye over the crying, fearful children. "Take the children back to the Duke's castle. Send a small armed force and some servants to care for them."

Edwin's eyebrows raised. "But, my lord ..." he began.

Gavin turned his fierce, blue eyes upon Edwin. "See to my command!" he snapped.

Edwin bowed, stepping back a pace or two, then hurriedly turned and conveyed the order to his men.

With the children out of the way, and a large throne-like wooden chair brought for Gavin, the Count's attention turned to the men. "I give you a simple offer." He said, taking a steel chalice from a deeply bowing servant girl. "Serve me or be sold into slavery." Gavin took a deep draught from the chalice. "There has been enough death during this past year. Some might say that slavery is a fate worse than death ... I know of no such thing as a fate worse than death!"

Edwin was trying to suppress more protest. It was usual to kill all potential enemies. "My lord, I hope that you will not break tradition with the women prisoners as you have with the men and babes?"

"I shall do as I please, Edwin." Snapped the Count. "And it pleases me to give the women to our victorious officers, as is the custom."

Edwin sighed, relieved. "Get those men out of here," and he turned to the women. "Ladies, rise and take off your clothes."

The women, a group of about twenty ranging from young maids of twenty to old matrons well passed fifty, looked from one to another. There was the muttering start of a protest, but one of the elders stopped them. They all disrobed.

Gavin smiled as he surveyed the random mixture of shapes before him. The young girl with the large firm breasts and narrow waist, her flaming red locks matching the tight curls of her pubic region. The ancient crone, her full breasts sagging and wrinkled, her thatch, still dark in contrast to her white hair, barely hiding the bulging clitoris and dangling labia of a well experienced cunt. And then the middle-aged mother, small of breast but large of nipple and with ample bottom for the savouring. He liked the look of those ones in particular, he signalled to Edwin to reserve them for his own pleasures.

The three ladies were called out, and made to come and sit by the side of the Count's make-shift throne. Gavin stood. He raised his bloody gauntleted hand and spoke loudly. "To the victors go the spoils." The surrounding troops whooped in approval. "The camp perimeter is secure, so you may take your pleasure from these women."

Gavin turned aside, as the gathered troops cheered and began to divest themselves of their armour and undergarments. The Count signalled his squire, and likewise stripped to his bare flesh. Once naked, he took another deep draught from the chalice, then sat once more on the wooden throne. He watched.

The men outnumbered the women at least five to one, and the closed in small groups around their prey. Some of the men stood watching, stroking their cocks into full erection. Others got straight to the job at hand, pulling a woman to them and crushing kisses onto their mouths and breasts. Hands were thrust roughly into tight female crotches. A cheer went up to one side as a slender young lieutenant lost his virginity, and another as an older sergeant drew virgin blood.

Close to the Count, two strapping guardsmen were at odds over a young blonde, but they settled the matter amicably by having the girl in question kneel in front of them, sucking first one hard cock and then the other. The shorter haired of the pair reached down to roughly squeeze the full rounded breasts, pulling on the long, hardening nipples, while the bearded longer haired man grasped the back of the girl's head to thrust his pole deep into her throat. Short-hair moved, knelt behind the girl and pulled her hips up for better access. His glistening rod sunk into her wet pussy, and the pair of guards continued in the spit-roast for some time, until the one with his cock sunk into the girl's cunt started to twitch and grunt, and collapsed over the girls back before pulling out his softening cock. Even from a distance Gavin could see the cum drizzling from her damp pussy. The other guard, at the front, pulled his cock out of the girl's mouth just in time to pump his semen across her muddy face. The two guards, smiled and walked away. The girl looked relieved, until another four men took their place.

"My lord?" came a weak voice from beside the throne. The oldest of the ladies, pushing her wisps of grey hair from her face, was touching Gavin's arm. "What are your plans for us?"

Gavin looked at the old woman and smiled. "Well since you like to use your mouth, you may start by sucking my cock." He said.

The old lady, Ruth, moved between Gavin's legs and took his somewhat small penis on one hand, took a deep breathe, then sunk down taking the soft member into her mouth. She sucked hard for a few moments, at first thinking that she was unable to stimulate the Count, but as the seconds ticked by his penis began to swell.

Ruth worked on Gavin's cock with enthusiasm and skill. She occasionally plopped his engorged shaft from her mouth, to spit on it and rub the expanding head with her hand. She pulled the foreskin back as far as it would go, making the head bulge. Her tongue had a light rasp to it that Gavin found exciting, as it flicked against the thin strap of skin on the underside of his cock head. He turned to the plump, middle-aged woman. "Come here, I want to suck on your tits." She moved to his side, letting him take her small tit in his hand as his mouth closed over the dangerously erect nipple. Gavin's hand moved down between her thighs, and, finding a surprisingly wet pussy, he slipped two fingers inside, his thumb playing with the large, engorged clit above. He could feel the muscular vagina clenching on his fingers as he pushed them deeper inside.

With his free hand, Gavin beckoned the younger girl. She approached, and Gavin thrust his hand between her legs, feeling her sopping wet cunt with its tight fringe of labia.

Ruth's work on the Count's cock had done wonders for the tiring lord. He let Arabella, the plump wife, go and rose to his feet. "All of you, bend over that table." He said, gruffly. The three women complied, and Gavin was presented with the gorgeous site of three raised bottoms; one firm and round, one large and full, and one petite and wrinkled. We ran his hands over their bare bottoms, pushing his fingers into their wet cunts and loosening arseholes. He pushed his hard cock into Ruth's now sopping cunt. It was loose and warm and extremely pleasant. In front of him a dark haired plump woman with ginger pubes was being showered in yet another spray of hot cum.

Gavin looked down as he heard the soft moaning of Ruth in front of him. She moved her hips in a most arousing way, and he saw the she had worked her hand between her legs to ensure her own pleasure. He smiled to himself, and pulled out rapidly, making her gasp. He moved to the youngest girl, Karen, and pushed his large purple head towards her tight pussy lips. It took a small effort, even though the girl's pussy was wet, to slide his head passed the outer lips and begin to thrust. Unlike Ruth's, Karen's pussy was very tight, so after only a few thrusts Gavin pulled out, not wishing to finish too soon.

Now behind Arabella, Gavin paused to admire the large round bottom. He pulled the cheeks apart to see the small star of her arsehole and the floppy lips of her dripping cunt. He knelt behind her, pushing his face into the juicy gap. His nose nuzzled her arsehole as his fingers spread her pussy so that his tongue could dive in deeply. The taste of her pussy juices was nectar to his war weary soul. He stood, and thrust his cock balls deep in one swift motion. Arabella gasped, not at the size, but at the suddenness. He grasped her ample hips and thrust hard and deep, pulling his cock almost all the way out before slamming it back in. A little surprised, Gavin felt the involuntary contractions of her vaginal muscles as a flood of fluids ran down his balls. He pulled out before Arabella's orgasm pulled him over the edge too.

He took a few more thrusts into Ruth's pussy, but knew that he wanted to cum deep inside Karen. Part of the purpose of the ritual violation of the captives was to plant the seed of the victors, hopefully creating more allies. Gavin thrust his cock into Karen's still tight pussy, the warmth and wetness felt exquisite against his slippery shaft. He pushed all the way in, feeling his foreskin stretch back to its furthest extent. The pulsations in his cock began and he began to lose his rhythm. His balls clenched as his hot cum shot from his penis, filling Karen's vagina. He stood for a moment, still balls deep, as his cock began to subside, then let his now limp penis slip from the tight hole, pulling with it clumps of thick pussy juice and oozing semen.

"Squire!!" called Gavin, and the young man assigned to that duty ran forward, bowing. "Take these women to my tent, make sure they are washed clothed and fed." He moved to his armour. His body dripped sweat and his armour was covered in mud and blood. He considered bathing first, but decided against it. The Count managed, with the help of some servants, to get back into his armour and he strode of in search of Edwin.

He found him, balls deep in a young brunette's arsehole. He stood and watched for a moment as Edwin thrust, eyes clenched shut, in and out of the girl's gaping hole. She must have been well used, thought Gavin.

His impatience mounting, Gavin slapped a steel gloved hand onto Edwin's shoulder. Edwin's eyes snapped open and he stared up into the flushed face of his lord. "My lord," he groaned, "one moment please."

Gavin folded his arms impatiently. "Where is the Duke's body?"

Edwin stopped his thrusting, and pulled his still hard cock out of the girl. He stood up and called to one of his men "Robe! And what news of the Duke's body?"

A guardsman scuttled forward draping a richly embroidered cloak about Edwin's shoulders, and whispered a message into his liege's ear. Rapidly, the guardsman retreated, bowing until he could turn and hastily walk away.

Edwin huffed. "It appears that the man fighting in the Duke's armour was not, in fact, the Duke." He shuffled uncomfortably in his cloak, a bulge still evident in the front.

"Get the army ready, we shall spend some time at the Duke's castle and see what we can find." Edwin glanced at the captive girl, his hand clearly on his cock under the cloak. "No time for that, Edwin." Gavin glowered, "We must find the Duke before he gathers more men!"

Edwin bowed deeply, and headed off muttering to his men. Gavin heard the barking of order, and although he couldn't make them out, he knew that his will was being done. He smiled, and headed for his tent. He needed a bath.

The journey to the Duke's house would take them several days, but it was Gavin's hope that the Duke would run for his own castle. The grey skies and drizzling rain made the already muddy landscape seem dirtier still. The soldiers marched slowly, the weight of their packs, the battle weariness, and the weather all sapping their spirits.

Gavin rode, as always, ahead. His armour, now gleaming silver even in the dullness of the day, shone the way forward for his men. He pulled his horse to a sideways stop, and surveyed the road ahead. It wound up into a narrow pass through a rocky outcrop, a lone dark tower stood at the top of the pass. "Gerald!" called Gavin, and one of his officers approached on foot. "Send a scouting party into the pass. Looks like a good place for an ambush."

The officer hurried off, and soon a small squad of men was double timing into the pass. Gavin waited. His horse snorted, shaking its head, rattling the metal of its reigns and bit. The men had still not returned. Gavin, wheeled his bored horse from side to side. Stopping, the horse stamped at the floor with one of its front legs. At length, the men returned looking flustered and red. Gavin was almost sure that at least one had a hard-on under their leather britches.

"All clear, my lord." Said the leader of the group. "There's a healer in the tower should you require her services." The man gave an involuntary grin, and one or two of the men supressed a laugh.

Gavin snorted "Onward then!" and pushed his horse into a canter up the rocky slope toward the pass and the tower.

Far ahead of the marching soldiers, Gavin arrived at the base of the tower. An odd structure, not so much blocking or guarding the pass, as sitting beside it, watching. A large oak door stood open at its base, and, in the opening, there was a rather beautiful woman dressed in mannish leather garb. Her hair was black as a raven's and long, but tied back into a single pony tail. Her face was smooth and narrow at the chin, her noise a little pointed, but beautifully proportioned to her face. Her lush lips were curled into a slight smile. Her tunic, very tight white cotton, clung to the curve of her impressive breasts, the material so thin that the darkness of her areola showed through ever so slightly. Her britches were tight and black, clinging to her groin and showing the slight cleft between her thighs. The boots, just above the knee, were all black leather with slightly raised heels.

"Do you need healing, my Lord?" she said in a rather deeper voice than Gavin had expected.

He smiled, and dismounted, leading his horse to the nearby water tough without taking his eyes from the woman. "And who are you, my lady?" he asked.

"You may call me Miriam." She said, her pale blue eyes seeming to glint in the dim light of the gloomy afternoon. "I am happy to heal those in need of it."

Gavin, dropped the reigns of his horse, a signal for him to stay put. Today, the horse shied away from the trough and trotted briefly to the far side of the pass, where it stopped, pawed the ground, then began to chew some weeds through its bit.

"Now that you mention it, I am a little achy." He said with a smile.

Miriam stepped to one side of the door and raised a welcoming arm "Then enter my home and I shall make you feel better."

Gavin strode passed Miriam into a dimly lit, round room at the tower's base. A small door, presumably to stairs, was the only other exit and most of the light came from a roaring fire on the far side of the room. In the centre of the room was a long table covered in a bearskin rug and with a soft looking pillow at one end.

Miriam had entered behind Gavin, and closed the door. She took a small vial from a shelf near the fire and tipped some oil from it into a small bowl held in frame over a lit wax candle. "Remove your clothes and lie on the table." Gavin cast a wary glance around the room. "Don't worry," Miriam said, "I don't bite ..." she paused, undoing the fastening of her tunic, "... unless you ask nicely".

Gavin watched as Miriam slowly opened her tunic, letting it fall behind her. Her breasts were magnificent; large and firm, the areola very wide across the front of her breast, the nipples large and erect. She moved slowly to a small stool, where she sat and removed the boots. Gavin considered that a shame in many ways, but as she turned her back and bent forward to remove the tight britches he stood transfixed by her ample, yet firm bottom. She turned, now naked, and Gavin looked her up and down. Her pubic hair was non-existent, and the slit of her pussy was clearly visible, the labia drooping down slightly, glistening in the firelight.

Quickly, the Count removed his armour and under clothes, and stood naked before the healer. His body was lean and muscled, but not hefty. Miriam glanced at the small dangling penis nestled in the blonde curls and seated upon a pair of rather large balls. She smiled, and beckoned for Gavin to lie on the table.

Once Gavin was in place, lying face down on the bearskin, Miriam moved to the bowl, filling her hands with warm oil and straddled Gavin's back. As she rubbed the oils into his aching back he could feel the delicate touch of her labia across his bottom cheeks. His penis began to grow uncomfortably against the bearskin.

Miriam moved down Gavin's back, now pressing and oiling the base of his back, now his bottom cheeks. She pulled the apart slightly, and ran her oily fingers across his arse hole and ball sack. This served to increase his size and his discomfort. And then Gavin jumped as he felt a finger pushing gently into his arsehole. The sensation was new to him, but not unpleasant. As Miriam worked her finger in and out Gavin's cock hardened like never before. Then there were two fingers in, and she was gently massaging something inside him that felt very good.

She moved below his feet and said, "Turn over now." In her deep, quiet voice. Gavin complied immediately, his cock springing up in front of him as he lay on the furred table. Miriam smiled, "I'm glad you like my ministrations."

Gavin looked at her gorgeous face, those pale blue eyes and the tits below. His cock twitched involuntarily. Miriam smiled, renewed the oil in her hands and grasped one hand to the base of Gavin's penis, pushing down into his balls. With the other she grabbed the shaft and began to slide her tight gripped hand up and around the lengthening shaft. At the top, she stopped, rubbing the palm of her hand around the swollen penis head. She pulled the foreskin all the way back, and paid some attention to the head alone, then went back to sliding up a down the shaft. As her right hand glided upward, her left moved down, twisting ever so slightly. Gavin could feel the cum building up in the base of his cock, getting very close to shooting his load. Miriam stopped.

Gavin's eyes widened, his lips about to form the word "Why?" when Miriam bent forward and took the head of his penis in her luscious mouth. She did not move down to swallow the whole shaft, but rather just held the head in her mouth, sucking fiercely, her lips rubbing rapidly over the rim of his helmet; back and forth, back and forth.

Gavin could not last any longer, he pushed his hips up off the table and his cock exploded three large jets of cum into Miriam's mouth. She caught most of it, sitting up and swallowing the massive load in delight. She looked down at Gavin's wilting penis, some cum still dribbling from its one eye, and globs falling slowly down the shaft. She bent forward again, cleaning every last drop of cum from his body.