This multi-chapter story contains adult material, including rape and non-consensual sex; bondage, pain and humiliation; anal sex and ass-to mouth. If this offends you, do not read this story and do not rate it.

Chapter 06. The Saxon Sword

Standing on the crest of the hill, Egfrid the Saxon overlooked the rolling landscape before his eyes. The lush grass of the meadows showed the bright green of early spring. This was beautiful, rich fertile land, farmland his people desperately needed. Years ago, when he was only a boy of ten, he had made his first crossing to this island. As the youngest son of one of the Saxon chieftains he had the opportunity to make these crossings several times afterwards. Each outward crossing after some time was followed by a return trip to take more people and fresh forces to join the pioneers and the soldiers. As young as Egfrid had been, each time he returned to this island, he always felt deeply this land was his future, not only his future, but also the future of his people.

Of course there were the Britons. It was unbelievable; they were so busy fighting each other, they barely noticed their arrival. The Britons were weak, the Romans had easily overpowered them and when the Romans left, the Britons hadn't achieved anything. People like the Britons never really had experienced the ordeal fighting against barbarians like the Huns and the Vandals. They never endured the raw force and the brutality of these people. Fighting almost seemed like a game to the Britons. Under leadership of their "king" they invented some new pastime for themselves. They were so proud of their skills to fight on horseback, they were jousting each other in tournaments! Of course those arrogant bastards felt superior to the Saxons, who they considered merely rogues and villains.

Egfrid straightened his jaw. His thoughts drifted away to his father. Alric was a great Saxon Leader. He was one of the few Saxon Leaders who had established a bridgehead on the island. He was an incredibly courageous, powerful fighter and so was his eldest son. Egfrid felt always somewhat uncomfortable when he thought of his older brother. Sigbert was such a good fighter and with his blonde hair he was tall and good-looking. Compared to him the younger son almost looked like a wimp. Egfrid had the utmost respect for his big brother but he knew very well he could stand his own. He never eagerly tried to compete physically but in contrast to all the symbols of brute force around him, the younger son of the great Leader over the years learned to rely on his knowledge and intellect. Listening carefully to the stories of battles and adding his own observations, he acquired a natural insight in military tactics. It gave him great satisfaction that the last years he was often consulted in strategical and tactical matters. He also learned a lot about human character, just by observing others and listening to them. Egfrid liked to analyze and dissect a person. It often proved to be very useful.

Egfrid saw the silhouette of Bamburgh castle at the far end of the plain. He remembered his visit almost a year ago when he first met that Lady, the chatelaine of the castle. Egfrid wasn't as good looking as his brother, but he never experienced any trouble having a woman. Among his own people there were women enough to have a fling with a Chieftain's son. When the Saxon forces were on the move, his soldiers always offered him the best-looking British wench to be raped. The Lady of Bamburgh castle, however, was different. Unlike any woman he ever met. She seemed a typical British Lady, in disdain to look him, a Saxon, in the eyes. He remembered the way she had shown him the Saxon wounded when he came to fetch them. No, she didn't say anything, but in her green eyes he read the unspoken words "This is the way we treat our wounded enemies". He barely could hide his emotions but fortunately she didn't notice.

As always only his brother caught some of her attention. Her husband, however, had intensely watched him. Instinctively Egfrid felt that this knight would be his main strategic adversary, a man to be seriously reckoned with. Luckily this problem was solved when the arrow of the Jute sniper found its mark. Those Jutes sought after the respect of the Saxons and the Angles, always afraid they wouldn't take them seriously. They never crossed to this island in many numbers, but their marksman arches were among the best.

Now the Lady has to manage on her own. In a certain way he felt great respect for her. She seemed so well in control but Egfrid had learned to trust his instincts. Despite her coolness in some way he surmised she had a deep sensual core. Why did this woman excite him so much? Thinking of her, an awkward, strong mixture of urges was stirring his loins. Egfrid straightened his jaw. He didn't merely want to have her; he wanted to control and to humiliate her. It would be his retribution for the disdain she showed him. Unfortunately he didn't have a plan to achieve his craving. Suddenly his mood changed. Perhaps he did have a Plan to administer her pride a severe blow.

Egfrid smiled when his mind brought him back to the present. Recently the British King Arthur experienced some marital problems but what happened then, stunned the Saxon camp. Led by "chivalry" the Britons shifted to internal fighting! Little tactical insight was required to let his father and other Saxon Leaders decide to march up southwards to lure the weakened British forces into combat. Of course his father and his brother, the great warriors, would lead the forces in the South while Egfrid, as so often was left to stay, fulfilling the harmless border duties.

Egfrid had patiently waited for a chance like this. He had ordered Oswald, his right hand, to spread the news that all the Saxons had left for the South. He hoped the knights at Bamburgh Castle would be tempted to leave for the South also to join their threatened countrymen. He actually let a substantial part of his forces leave the castle so their spies would confirm the rumors. However, under cover of the night, the men had backtracked, silently returning to their original positions. Only a minor part would march on to confirm the image the Saxons were definitively on their way south. The deception worked like a dream. The chivalrous knights of Bamburgh Castle couldn't be fast enough to join their brothers in arms, leaving only a minimal garrison in the castle. It was a perfect setting for a trap.

Two weeks later Oruale felt devastated. When she returned from Camelot she found the Saxons unexpectedly quiet for some time. May be it was because Gawain just won a clear victory against them, but even after defeat the Saxons continued to cause trouble. This time they were so quiet Oruale had the opportunity to make a visit to old King Lot to pay her respects and to visit her father Egan and her younger sister. It was some time ago when they last met and Oruale was delighted to see how Bronwyn had blossomed into a beautiful woman. Oruale had been almost a second mother to her sister during her youth and seeing her now made her immensely proud. To Oruale her sister represented the image of beauty she always had dreamed for herself: a svelte brunette with a perfect skin, unblemished by any freckles. The two women soon were engaged in sisterly chat and banter and Oruale was not at all surprised when she heard that Gaheris, one of King Lot's younger sons had taken interest in Bronwyn. Knowing her father, he must be delighted at the prospect of his youngest daughter becoming a real princess. Of course she asked Bronwyn about her feelings for her noble suitor.

"Gaheris is a nice man. He is really very sweet and tender in bed... But to be honest, I like men better when they are a little rough... you know what I mean." She giggled. "How was Aelfrith in bed...? And were the Knights in Camelot any good? I heard from Clarissa that you befriended Lancelot when you lived there. Did you... did you ever... fuck...?"

Oruale was aghast at her sister's frankness. She was quite accustomed to some saucy talk among ladies but Bronwyn's bawdy words were not becoming, even in an intimate talk between sisters. She certainly could not confide in her the secret intimacies she experienced. Instead Oruale was contemplating to formulate some suitable pointers, when her father who at that moment entered the room saved her.

"Did Bronwyn already tell you the great news?"

He didn't wait for her answer.

"Bronwyn is going to marry Gaheris!"

"Father, that's not for certain." Bronwyn tried to calm him down.

"Don't be silly, girl. He already approached me. You are practically engaged."

Yes, those were happy days and when Oruale returned to Bamburgh Castle even the troubles with the Saxons seemed much improved. However the situation changed rapidly. Terrible news came in that Arthur died in the battle at Camlann. Immediately reports were flowing in of Saxon troops moving to the South, probably gathering in Kent to form a big army. When several knights expressed their wishes to reinforce the British forces in the South, Oruale immediately complied. She always felt strongly engaged with the British interest. When it was confirmed most of the Saxons were moving to the South, even more forces left the castle. Supported by the wise old Narpus, the confident of her late husband, everyone was convinced Oruale would be able to manage the current affairs at the castle.

She didn't expect to be confronted with anything serious when she saw a dozen drunken Saxon youngsters harassing a couple of British farmers. It happened in the morning, just when Oruale did her regular walk on the castle ramparts. It was impertinent how this Saxon scum dared to badger British farmers right outside her castle. Indignant she sent out a patrol to deal with the Saxon youths. The cowards started to run for cover in the woods the moment they heard the gate coming down. After taking care of the shaken farmers, the men chased the Saxons into the forest. It must have taken a long time to find them because they had still not returned when the night fell. Although Narpus uttered a note of caution, Oruale sent out a second patrol to look out for them. The problem with Narpus was, that he always was calling for caution.

Only when the second patrol too didn't return, fear was trickling in that both patrols might have been drawn into a diabolic ambush. The situation worsened when the first farmers arrived, fleeing from Saxon troops who were ravishing the countryside. Fires in the distance, lightening the darkness of the night, bore further witness of the Saxon rampage. Throughout the night farmers kept arriving indicating the Saxons were less interested in killing then they were in burning and damaging their farms. At the meeting with Narpus the following morning it became clear to Oruale how desperate the situation had developed. Overnight over two hundred people, including many women and children had sought refuge in the castle. Saxon troops were closing in for a siege.

"Where are all these troops coming from? I thought they had left for the South" Oruale said.

Narpus shrugged his shoulders.

"They have deceived us, milady. The troops we thought were leaving for the south, obviously recanted. Now they have a great superiority in forces and, even worse, our food supplies are not adequate to accommodate so many people for a long siege. I think they purposefully let all those people take refuge."

Oruale pondered who would have devised such an ingenious plan. Suddenly she remembered the words of her late husband of the young Saxon chief: he is dangerous... he can manipulate people. He certainly manipulated her into a dead end.

"What can we do?" She knew his answer already.

"We could negotiate the terms of surrender to save lives."

They didn't have to wait long. After another day a delegation of the Saxons presented themselves to negotiate the term of surrender.

"We don't have the intention of surrender. We can hold out for several months until the forces of King Loth will come to our relief." Oruale said coolly, pretending she was in complete control of the situation. Yes, now she recognized the youngest son of the Saxon Leader but she still failed to retrieve his name.

"Unfortunately I know that you are low in supplies and men. My men cautiously kept all the fields intact, so your farmers can starve to death while our farmers will harvest their crops. If I want, I can order a full force attack and your troops will be massacred. King Loth will not be able to send troops he doesn't have and if he would decide to make a heroic attempt, my men will be waiting for him and this episode will cost even more lives. My men will be anxious to attack. I restrained them the other day but when the castle falls they finally have the possibility to entertain themselves with the women and their daughters you are keeping within these walls."

Oruale shivered. The Saxons were infamous for the way they treated their female prisoners.

"There is no need to harm innocent civilians, Sir Egfrid" Narpus said. "Allow the civilians a safe free guard. There is no need for bloodshed of the innocent." Oruale knew that Bamburgh Castle had long since lost its strategic importance of former days. It would be a great personal loss for her, but not for the British cause. Now she also remembered the name of her Saxon opponent. She noticed how presumptuous he was. Annoyed she realized she was completely unable to read his thoughts.

"Those are truly noble words, worthy of a British gentleman." Egfrid said to Narpus. "I'm not a knight, just a Saxon chieftain. But I was taught that in negotiations, to realize a concession, it is customary to offer a concession in return. Unfortunately you don't have anything to offer me."

"We will consider surrendering the castle." Oruale said bravely.

"This castle, despite it serving as your home, is of no importance to us, milady" Egfrid said affably. "However, surrendering your castle would increase in appreciation if it would be linked to your personal surrender and you would accept our Saxon hospitality indefinitely."

Oruale didn't immediately realize the hidden meaning of his words.

"Out of the question!" Narpus answered for her. "This is an outrageous demand...!"

The moment Oruale realized the significance of Egfrid's words, the hidden threat almost choked her. The two men kept discussing but she didn't hear their words, plunged in her own thoughts.

"Leave us, Narpus!"

"But milady, his demand doesn't have any precedent..."

Oruale suddenly felt sure of herself.

"Leave us, I have to discuss this matter with chieftain Egfrid between the two of us."

Reluctantly Narpus left, taking Oswald, the other Saxon, with him. When the two men had left an awkward silence fell until Oruale confronted him and quietly asked.

"What do you really want from me?"

Oruale was not prepared for the change in his behavior.

"I want you to respect me! I want you on you knees!"

As his voice rose, his face changed into a savage grimace. It lasted only a second, but then he was his in control of himself again. It didn't make his following words less threatening.

"As our prisoner you will serve me and my people"

Oruale had instinctively recoiled at his outburst, but she too recovered fast.

"What did I do wrong?"

"You were too noble, milady. Didn't you think yourself to be superior nursing our wounded soldiers, exceedingly far superior to us, merely barbarians? Didn't you enjoy feeling so superior?"

"I did not!" Oruale said indignantly, but her light blush belied her and she realized he had read her all the way. Egfrid just smiled knowingly.

"I have seen it in your eyes, milady. And your eyes don't lie... Anyway, you must be grateful I am offering you another opportunity for nobility. Accept our hospitality and serve us... and your people will have a free passage to safety."

Oruale shuddered, apprehensive at the downward spiral to an inescapable vortex she wouldn't be able to escape.

"What will you want from me?" she repeated hoarsely.

"If I let your people exit freely through the gates of your castle of bricks and stone, wouldn't it be reasonable you would allow me free entrance through the gates of your sanctum of flesh...?"

Oruale was stunned. This man was a manipulator of the worse kind and he had a morbid way to put his obvious intentions into words. It was unthinkable to put her fate in his hands... on the other hand, he showed a kind of cruelty Oruale was sure he wouldn't hesitate to put his threat into action and many of her people would die. Suddenly Oruale was overcome with guilt. It is entirely my fault; I made that hasty decision to send out those patrols. I cannot allow my people to suffer.

"I will be available to you only, for one day and not one hour more!"

Oruale was surprised at her own courage. For a second he looked even more surprised but he regained his composure immediately.

"Tsk, tsk... the reputation of our traditional Saxon hospitality wouldn't stand for a stay less than one year, milady, not even by one day!"

At his last words she heard such a steel determination in his voice that Oruale knew any more negotiations on this point would be futile.

"How do I know I can trust you? How do I know you won't pursue my people when they have left and kill them anyway?"

Only for a second she saw his anger again but his reply, although razor-sharp, was soft-spoken.

"You will have my word as a Saxon! Look at the scar in my face."

He showed her a white scar in his neck, just below his ear.

"When a Saxon youth becomes an adult, his honor is carved in blood. We don't need any documents and papers to keep our word"

"Because most of you cannot write or read" Oruale thought silently.

"Saxon warriors have their own code of honor." Egfrid continued. "We don't need to chatter at a round table to know what we are and what we want!"

He paused intently to allow his sneer to sink in.

"How do I know you will deliver? How do I know you will pay your respects? Are you up to that challenge?"

"I am." Oruale said bravely.

"I will be blunt, milady. I will enter your body through each of your three orifices. I am giving you fair warning. You can still recant and choose to remain at your defenseless castle, watching your people being massacred from the ramparts. I will make sure you will not be harmed so you will have ample opportunity to enjoy the spectacle while your virtue remains untouched."

Oruale felt an urge to slap at his smiling face. Instead, she walked calmly to the door and called the other negotiators in. She had already made her decision.

"Chieftain Egfrid and I have come to an agreement." Oruale said, giving her opponent a nod to proceed.

"Lady Oruale agreed to surrender the castle. All the people will be allowed to leave unharmed. There will not be a Saxon pursuit. Lady Oruale expressed her appreciation for our gesture and agreed to stay and be our guest for one year exactly."

Both the British and the Saxon co-negotiators were aghast.

"They will harm you, milady!" Narpus blurted out.

Egfrid had to answer both Narpus and his own friend. He first spoke some incomprehensible words in his own language to Oswald and then turned to Narpus.

"I guarantee you. When Lady Oruale returns, her skin will be as unblemished as it is now..."

"It is all right, Narpus." Oruale said. "Make the preparations to abandon the castle."

The relinquishment of the castle started in the morning of the next day, exactly as the negotiators had agreed. The moment the Britons started to leave through the front gate, the first Saxons entered through the hind gate. The military quarters emptied as the Saxons took over. A Saxon woman in her fifties arrived at Oriole's quarters and immediately took over control. Hilda was firm but correct and seemed competent and efficient in a quiet way. She had served at the court of King Aese of Kent and systematically went through Oriole's wardrobe.
It happened that first night.

After Oruale was served a light supper, she heard from Hilda what was in store from her.

"You are expected to pay your respects to our Chieftain, milady."

Hilda also selected the attire for her visit and obviously she was carefully instructed. She chose the same dress Oruale wore when she showed Egfrid how she had taken care of the Saxon wounded. It was a simple blouse and a long skirt in light green, which seemed fit to her height. Beneath her blouse she had used a bodice to keep her overflowing bust in control. Oruale remembered she had chosen the dress intentionally to avoid any emergence of feelings of lust from the Saxon. Obviously, the robe had failed her completely. When she asked Hilda to hand over her under linen, Oruale received a stiff reply:

"I have been advised you won't need it, milady!"

The man did anything to impose his will on her. Since the guestroom was situated at the other end of the castle Oruale had to walk un-chaperoned through several long cold corridors. Finally she experienced how wrong her choice for the dress had been. Every now and then, when she met a Saxon guard, the man looked her up from top to toe and when she finally arrived at the guestroom and reported to the two men standing guard in front of the door, they boldly looked at the top of her bodice. One of them said something in their dialect which brought a sniggering chuckle from his fellow guard. Obviously, the whole Saxon nation was aware what would happen behind the closed door.

"Your evening entertainment has arrived, chief" the sniggering laugher announced her.

"Grindan, Grindan... Mind your manners! The lady is only visiting me to pay her respects."

The guards smiled knowingly

"Yaah, anything you say Egfrid." The man called Grindan said. "We'll see if the lady is still walking so stately when she leaves this room. I bet she will walk out straddle-legged when you are finished with her." The two guards burst out in wild laughter.

They are drunk, don't take notice. Oruale was telling herself.

"Your men seem to amuse themselves." Oruale said after she entered the room.

"Why shouldn't they...? We scored an important victory. And it brought me the pleasure seeing you in this outfit again. What can I do for you?"

"You know for what reason you have appointed me here."

Again, she noticed a change in his eyes, showing how determined he was. This was a man to be reckoned with seriously. She couldn't comprehend she had overlooked it completely the first time they met. Was her attention completely drawn to his brother? Looking into those penetrating, steel blue eyes, Oruale suddenly felt the irrational need to confront him, to let him know she wasn't afraid.

"I detest you."

Her snarl didn't have the desired effect.

"I would be very disappointed if you didn't, milady. The main joy in riding a wild horse is in taming it...! Only I'm not sure about the best approach. You could help me, you know... do you have any suggestion how I could persuade you?"

He didn't expect an answer and Oruale just didn't react. Of course he could impose his will over her, but she would be passive and let him have his way until it was all over. It would be a sacrifice to tolerate him again and again, but it would be for a good cause. She was so enthralled in her thoughts she only heard the last of his words.

"... but may be your secret is concealed in the interrogation room. For what reason you would make regular visits with your husband to the dungeon in the dead of the night, when nobody is present to be interrogated? My spy suggested some intriguing possibilities." He watched her face and continued. "Tell me, milady. What was happening in that interrogation room I should know to make you more sympathetic to consummate our agreement? Tell me..."

Oruale felt cold sweat breaking out under her skin. He knows... Aelfrith always took great care no servants would notice when they descended to the dungeon. She was sure only a single confidant might have noticed and even with them their secret would be safe. But a spy! Of course a spy would hide, just trying to gather information for the enemy.

"I really don't know what you are implying..."

But Egfrid unerringly had picked up the flicker in her self-confidence.

"Anyway, as you owe me a tour through the castle, I suggest we make a detour to the dungeon so offering you the opportunity to clarify your interest in that room."

Knowing this would mean she had to enter dangerous territory, Oruale did try to divert his intention. It only enforced his determination and ultimately she led him the way to the dungeon. She hadn't entered the room since her husband died. Everything was still there, the long rectangular table with the leather straps emerging from the corners, the table in the back with the cylinder-shaped trestle, and the large mat on the floor, the site of so many of their happy activities. The circular metal rings mounted at the wall and protruding from the floor, seemed untouched since their last visit. Oruale felt a hot flush creeping up her spine when old memories flashed through her mind.

"Interesting... This seems a very private room to me, perfect for the activities I had in mind..."

Oruale was on the verge of telling him she preferred they would proceed to her bedroom but then realized a British Lady could hardly invite a Saxon Chieftain to her bedroom. She noticed the man was drawing near to her till their bodies were touching. His hand pushed her chin upwards so she was forced to expose her eyes to his penetrating gaze.

"I am going to sit down while you will remain standing and do as I wish."

For the first time that night Oruale felt fear trickling in. It wasn't fear of pain, because she could handle that very well, or a fear of rape because she had learned to handle that too, but it was a fear she would enjoy the way this man chose to handle her. Enjoyment would mean he would prevail and signify her ultimate humiliation. Oruale couldn't bear to think of his triumphant smirk if that ever happened.

"Peel off your clothes... slowly... Start with your bodice..."

Oruale hurried to untie the buttons and strings of the constricting garment when Egfrid suddenly jumped from his chair and slapped her busy hands hard. She gasped in surprise but before she could cry out, he touched her chin softly to calm her down.

"I said: slowly. I am warning you. When I inform you of my wishes, I will proclaim it only once..." Completely at ease he regained his seat. "You may proceed..."

Shaken by his outburst, Oruale resumed releasing herself from her bodice but it seemed to her now as if the buttons were more tightly knotted and she had trouble to loosen them. It seemed ages before she reached the last button. Egfrid watched her in amusement. The nervous movements of her fingers, the soft blush on her cheeks and the slow unfolding of more and still more of her glorious flesh was a most entertaining erotic spectacle. He felt his rod rising in his trousers.

"You may cover your breasts when you drop your bodice."

Although somewhat surprised, Oruale was grateful she didn't have to expose herself completely. Egfrid let her nurse this prospect for a minute before he administered the next blow.

"Now slowly uncross your arms and put your hands above your head...!"

Oruale felt ice needles slowly creeping up her spine. He is treating me like some cheap dancing girl. She wanted to shout "NO" but she knew there was no escape. With a sob she unfolded her arms and moved them slowly upward till her hands met over her head. Egfrid barely could hide his excitement. This slow unfolding of her charms was as much a torture for him as for her. Finally her well rounded, alluring breasts jiggled into view. As soon as he saw them, he knew he had struck a hidden treasure. The two ripe golden fruits were adorned by pouting tips like deep amber stems, rooted in their dark, circular bedding. The charming defiant crowns were twitching in the rush of cool air over their responsive flesh.

"Approach!" he said, with his voice carrying a slight tremble. "Now lean over me and put your hands on the back of my chair."

It didn't matter she obeyed reluctantly, her dangling pears came wonderfully near. He could distinguish the peachy down of her skin, the wrinkled landscape of her areolas. When his lips closed over her swollen nipples, she shouted out a loud cry like a wounded animal. Her body seemingly tried to escape but didn't, and her cry ultimately converted to a soft, throaty mewing. It was a shout of defeat and both man and woman knew it. Sobbing Oruale allowed him to nibble at her excited raisins and maul them with his teeth. She hated her nipples for being so sensitive, for growing harder, even in the mouth of her enemy. To make things worse, she felt herself getting wet...

"On your knees! Open my trousers!"

This time Egfrid noticed there was no hesitation when the red-haired lady went to her knees, only emitting smothered groans which could be interpreted either as a sign of defeat or a sign of eagerness. With agile fingers his loins were disclosed and there it was, his Saxon sword of flesh, sprouting from between his legs like a solid branch of a tree, the blood-gorged head so swollen and shiny.

"Swallow it!"

There was another sob before his cock vanished in the crevasse of her face. He saw her eyes flare wide when his hand in her red mass of hair pushed her farther down. He heard the gagging, gulping sound of her throat. Only when his pubic hair tickled her noble nose, the depth of her swallowing was to his satisfaction.

"Let me feel your tongue!"

She obeyed, flicking his saliva-encompassed organ with her sensual, lively tongue. Oruale didn't know why she so willingly was stimulating his erection even more. May be it was the challenge, urging her to let his arrogant symbol of male domination disappear deep in her mouth. Egfrid felt his balls were almost ready to burst. He needed a change of scenery. Freeing his member from her mouth, he spread his thighs and hooked the back of his knees over the armrests of his chair.

"Lick my Arsch!" He let his bottom slide down a little to provide her easier access for the task he had in mind for her.

He didn't use the correct word, but his intention was clearly enough. Seeing his hairy cleft originating from the depths of the dark eye, Oruale suddenly flinched.

"N... no... nooo..." she stammered. "You cannot ask that from me!"

"You stupid wench! I don't ask... I demand...!"

In one fluid moment his hands were gripping her neck and her hair, pushing her face forcefully into his dark ravine. Her shriek of terror faded away when her mouth was firmly pressed into his anus. Oruale fought for what she was worth but her struggles were no match for his iron grip. She went limp and suddenly Egfrid felt the little top of her tongue started moving along the length of his crack. He heard her sobbing softly but the wetness of her tears on his skin only increased his excitement.

"See... it's not too unpleasant...!"" He said. "When you keep weeping any longer, your tears will stream down the valley and it will take you longer to suck my arse dry."

Oruale shivered at his mocking words. He never let an opportunity unused to humiliate her. Worried she felt a familiar sensation creeping up between her thighs and prayed he wouldn't notice the sopping wetness of her cunt. She was making sure other matters temporarily absorbed his attention. Her wet tongue slid up and down the crease between his taut buttocks, spreading her saliva all over the smooth surface. Her mouth neared the orifice of his anus and accidentally flicked over, making him groan.

"Suck it! Now!"

Egfrid felt his seed accumulating in his anxious, aching scrotum. Reluctantly her tongue slid in, seeming to thicken in the slender of his anus. Then the red-haired lady tongue-fucked her victor up the arse. Her lips kissed his anal mouth while the tip of spongy warm tongue was entering repeatedly. His sphincter trembled under her delicate oral attention. He rose from his sitting position whelk the muscles of his buttocks tightened in anticipation of what to come.

"On your hand and knees! Your tail in the air!"

After she meekly complied, he patted her arching cheek and fingered her rear opening.

"Rest assured it will not be my tongue that will go up your arse, milady!" He smirked.

On her hands and knees Oruale offered the oval sumptuousness of her tight-creased rump. Egfrid reached for her fleshy rounded buns with both hands. He peeled those ovals open to reveal their valley and the funnel to her anal depths. The swollen head of his bulging prick touched the coiled sphincter, which sent a shiver throughout her lithe body. She whined and whimpered when she his engorged crown started to wedge itself into the tight ring of her anus.

"Be careful, please..."

It was not what he wanted. He wanted to pain and control her, to transform this proud, stately lady to a whimpering, twisting and jolting heap of female flesh. Holding her steady with both hands, he pushed through her hind gate. She felt skewered on a thick red rod of swollen flesh. He plunged in, again and again. She trembled under the force of his jabs. Then, with an arse full of cock, she sagged with her dark-crowned tits dangling. His hard-driving cock was buried deep up her back, prodding her bowels. After a while he pulled out slowly, letting his cock ooze slowly from her tight fitting anal tube. Then he reversed his motion, sinking it again far up inside her smoldering arse hole.

Egfrid began fucking her arse in earnest. He fucked her hard, buggering her deep, driving his spike to the very depths of her tight rectum in a frenzy of lust and power. Her breasts were swinging and dancing beneath her bowed body. They became a prey for his reaching hands, immediately starting to play with the oversize nipples whose extreme sensitivity was exploited mercilessly. His cudgel of flesh circled round and round in her bowel chamber. His skewering bone stretched the tenderest spots of her inner flesh until she moaned and whimpered in masochistic delight. Creamy fluid was drooling from her neglected cunt hole. She was wet in her rectal tunnel and when he pulled out the hole between her cheeks remained wide open for him, almost begging to be re-entered. It was a perfect time for her ultimate humiliation. He dislodged and stepped back.

"Get down on your knees and let your mouth pay homage to my Saxon sword!"

His flesh certainly felt hard as steel but, different from a regular sword, it was oiled by the juices of her anal channel. The sight obviously was too much for the lady. She ignored his command and in a foolish way, shouting "No... no...!", Oruale tried to scramble on her feet and pull away from him.

Egfrid's patience ran out. He decided to show this woman once and for all she had to obey him immediately and unconditionally. This room seems perfect to enforce his will and find the most effective and pleasurable method. They struggled briefly but then he pulled her by the hairs to the long rectangular table. Oruale maintained a heroic struggle, but he was much too strong and by the time they reached the table she was exhausted. Without too much trouble Egfrid succeeded in getting her on the table, each of her extremities firmly fixed by the leather straps at the corners. When he calmed down he looked down at the sight of the hapless lady, spread out wide and completely nude, ready for his punishment and his pleasure. Her only defense lately consisted in saying "no" and calling him "pervert" and some other names, which really didn't help her case. He had been right all the time, she had a spectacular body. He took his time to knead those malleable mounds; he just couldn't get enough feeling of the rich elasticity of that flesh flowing between his fingers. When he scratched his fingernails over her wide areoles and started to play with her swollen nipples, her shouts of protests suddenly transformed in restrained groans of lust. Egfrid was an accurate observer and this unexpected success called for verification. So he repeated his playful manipulation and executed it a third time, just to make sure. Her reactions to each repeat were more intense than the previous one, and the third time she was shouting out in pleasure and her whole body was twisting within her restraints. Egfrid watched her in fascination and almost forgot to apply the proper corporal punishment.

Egfrid rather fucked her in the arse again but out of principle he couldn't allow her to escape her punishment. He looked around and saw the three objects, next to the table: a solid cane, a vicious looking riding crop and a frightening whip. Uncertain he took the three objects in the hand. He noticed she was watching him.

"Which one...?!"

She averted his eyes, breathing heavily. When their eyes crossed eventually, he saw her lips moving. Inpatient he signaled her to speak louder and leaned over to her. Oruale relived memories of yore.

"The crop..." She whispered. "The crop..."

When the first blow came down she was relieved it was less painful than she had experienced in the past. She noticed he was shifting his blows systematically over her body, carefully observing her reactions. The bastard is looking for my sensitive spots. After her breasts and her midriff, his blows were creeping down to her tummy, where her sensations of pain and pleasure would be the most intense. When the first blow on her tummy hit her, he immediately noticed the difference. Then he hit her at the exact place again... and again... She shrieked out loud, yelling, groaning in torment. He just looked down at her with that knowing smirk. He even reached out between her legs to confirm she was excited, that she was writhing in lust. He applied some of her cunt-juice on her upper lip. Just to let her know he knew... Bastard! Filthy bastard! She felt all on fire down below. She was ready to be fucked...! Even by him!

He read her perfectly and started to loosen her ankles from the leather strips. She felt relieved that the torture would end now. They would move over to the mat and fuck like rabbits as she had done before. To her dissatisfaction he kept her wrists tied up and before she knew he was moving one ankle up above her head. The bastard is folding me in two! She shouted, cursed and pleaded but it didn't help. She even tried crying, but he just laughed at her.

"You are strong milady, much too strong to cry."

Finally he had her doubled up totally, her knees almost at the same level as her shoulders, her bottom rearing up in the air as a giant peach with her flattened rosette in the center. Oruale knew she couldn't escape her fate, she wasn't even allowed the time to pity herself. He clambered on the table while his finger was prodding in her nether hole. The latest developments had dried up her juices. Her feet being pressed almost to her face, Oruale had a clear view between her legs of his manhood, slowly wobbling up and down in front of him, ready to pound her into total submission. He knelt before her helpless body and pushed the massive crown against the sphincter of her anus.

"Aaaaagh..."

The following moment the round, knobby head of his cock was sinking into her hot cauldron. Oruale shouted out at the top of her longs. She felt the strength of his overpowering hips generating a heat she couldn't bear but couldn't escape. Soon her shrieks broke off into desperate sobs. His swollen prick was moving up the tight tube of her bowels. Spread completely open as she was, his stalk undisturbed submerged itself completely in her tightest and most private passage. Egfrid felt the tight clasp all around his intruding man meat. He strained with his whole body, pushing off from his feet, skewering, plumbing the farthest recesses of her rectal tunnel between the creamy, shuddering cheeks. Again and again he speared himself into her helpless hole.
Oruale moaned in agony. The pain of her dilated asshole was unbearable. Feverishly she sought to escape this excruciating fire. As always Egfrid read her thoughts

"You could pay tribute to my Saxon Sword..."

Oruale knew, she knew what he wanted... it was would mean her utter degradation.

"Please... "Oruale sobbed. "please..."

"What....?"

"Please... I... I will pay... aagh... I will pay tribute to your sword."

"You mean my sword I have buried deep in your arse... like this...! And this..."

"Aaaaagh... aaagh..."

The redhead's pale cheeks trembled under the punishing blows of his haunches.

"Yes, take this...! You have my Saxon Sword up in your Arse... A good barbarian cock, right up in your ladyship's arse...! Tell me what you want...!"

"Please... give me your cock... aaagh... Yes, I will play tribute with my mouth..."

"What do you mean? I have my cock in you dirty arse right now.... Tell me, what you want!

"Please...! Put... your cock... in my mouth." Oruale almost whispered. This was too much.

"You mean right from your arse...? Speak louder, milady, so I can hear."

Deliberately Egfrid prolonged this moment of her ultimate defeat.

"Yessss!" the once so dignified Lady sobbed "... in my mouth, right from my arse."

Her body cringed in utter defeat but paradoxically she felt a scorching heat accumulating in her neither parts, a desire for fulfillment, an urgent craving she never experienced before.

Egfrid felt the pulse of victory beating in his throat. This was what he had prepared for the last year. Oruale looked up and saw him standing, his legs spread wide, his mighty Saxon Sword hanging over her. Totally helpless and defeated, she could only move her head. The muscles over her throat tightened when she opened her mouth and reached out to receive him. Then the slimy sausage came down and her senses were submerged in tastes and odors of her own. She sucked with her cheeks hollowing, her head rotating around her conqueror's sword, showing her complete surrender. Suddenly an orgasm unleashed within her, flooded her while she continued licking and sucking.

"Take it... take it deep..." Egfrid gasped, grinding his hips in her face. Gasping he fucked the mouth which had judged him but now was transformed to just an accommodating, wet cavity. He fucked that wonderful, fascinating face. He saw her eyes, closed in rapturous surrender. She was in unbridled heat, gnawing and sucking wildly at his manhood. Then Egfrid lost any coherent thoughts, he just felt an overwhelming sense of power, a sharp, urgent need accumulating in the base of his cock. When he exploded, he pumped copious spurts of his seed into the contracting channel of the lady's yearning throat.

Dedicated to my editor JayneC for her continuing support.