Centaurus wrote: ↑Mon Sep 26, 2022 12:24 am
Excellent stuff, LLL and JD.
Middle L is silent.
After the thread will run it's course, I'll add the frames that fell to the cutting room's floor. I had more fun doing those than the actual frames used here. Much to the desperation of esteemed LL who couldn't understand why I'd rather spend time depicting Merida cooking a rabbit in the evening, lol. Instead of painful entertainement in dungeons. Guess that makes me a pervert among perverts. A double negation. A normie!
I added the third L because at least three letters were required, IIRC.
Anyway, Merida is very jealous of Marion, who got the attentions you denied her.
After the shock of the first turns, Merida fell into a rhythm. The wheel, fortunately, was not a very big one. It made a full turn in about two minutes, and she was submerged for slightly less than a third of the time. The worst part was entering the icy water upside down. Even taking as deep a breath as possible when her hands touched the stream, water would still enter her nose, making it extremely difficult to keep the air in her lungs. Her ordeal, she realized, would have been a lot less terrible if they had only tied her the other way up. Clearly, they had done this before, and knew how to make it as painful as possible.
She took strength from what she had heard. Thirty turns meant she would be subjected to this torture for about an hour. She knew she could do it. What was in store for her later she couldn’t imagine, but she pushed those thoughts out of her mind, concentrating on staying alive.
After the last spin, exhausted, barely aware of her surroundings, Merida was released and taken down. Instead of allowing her to recover, her captors tied her wrists in front of her, and the baron attached the long, coarse rope to the front of his saddle.
“Enough bathing for today, trollop! A brisk walk is what you need now!” he said. They started at a pace, slow for the horses, barely attainable for the exhausted princess.
At first, even if the horses were just pacing, keeping up was hard on Merida. The prolonged water torture had exhausted her. But after less than one hour the forest gave way to a paved road, and having regained some of her stamina she found keeping the pace easier. This was not lost on one of her captors, who joined the baron in the lead.
“My Lord” he said “our guest seems eager to reach her lodgings. Shall we pick up the pace?”
Before he could answer, the baron was interrupted by Merida. “You English dimwits! You twats! I am the daughter of King Fergus of Scotland! You should be kissing my feet! Release me at once, or…”
Merida was in turn brutally interrupted, by the falconer who laid a whiplash squarely across her back. She released a short scream, and fell to one knee.
“Get up lass, if you don’t want me to drag you all the way to my castle” said the baron.
“Did you not hear, wench? Up, at once!” said the falconer, striping Merida’s back with a second stroke.
“My Lord” replied his woodsman “while this annoying lass certainly deserves no better, dragging her all the way to your castle would likely kill her. Wouldn’t it be a waste, to have her in your dungeon as a corpse?”
“Right you are” said the baron “but I do not intend to tolerate her annoying voice any longer. Not until I’ll make her scream, that is”.
“Do not worry. I know the perfect solution. Just give me a few minutes”.
Having said so, the woodsman dismounted, and, after casting a look around, picked up a sturdy branch that had fallen from a tree. He then took out his hatchet, and with a few well-aimed strokes cut a rough piece, about a foot long, out of it. He then proceeded to attach short ropes to both ends.
“Ha ha” said the baron having picked up on his servant’s intentions “nice idea. But I’m not volunteering to put that between the hellcat’s teeth, Gareth”.
“No problem, my Lord. Please, Gawain, lend me a hand” said Gareth, the woodsman.
Gawain, a muscular guard, dismounted and approached Merida from behind. He grabbed her neck, crushing her in his right arm, and pinched her nose closed with his left hand. As soon as Merida opened her mouth gasping for air, the woodsman shoved the wood in between her teeth, and tightly tied it behind her head.
“We can resume our voyage. It’s a bit large, but then she has a big mouth. Won’t produce more than some groans with it now, however”.
They resumed the ride. Although they did not speed up the pace, from there on it became again harder for Merida to keep up. The events of the day were taking their toll on her. She had been subjected to the torture upon the wheel at the water mill for about an hour, after which she had been walking behind a horse - at a pace that was slow for the animal but close to running for a human - for over twice that time.
Worse, however, was the improvised gag they had forced upon her. The rough wood cut into her lips. She could taste her own blood. It was humiliating, but just an extra layer upon the humiliation of walking stark naked, as a dog on a leash, among five men on horses. It also made breathing a lot harder. Worst of all, however, were the fierce cramps it started causing in her jaw muscles. The first one had set in after about half an hour, but now they were coming frequently, each more painful than the one before.
Merida started wondering how long it would take for them to arrive, and if she would manage at all to reach the baron’s castle without fainting. But when the sun started its descent on the horizon, the castle came into view. Of course, she thought, the last mile just had to be upwards to the top of a hill…
The castle was comparatively small. After all, it belonged to a mere baron. A mere baron who, however, had her totally in his power, she reflected. Still, there were a few dozen people in the courtyard, gawking at her nudity and adding to her humiliation.
Not that decency was Merida’s main concern, at the moment. Once the baron halted his horse, in spite of all her pride she couldn’t keep herself from sinking to her knees, barely managing to keep from fainting by resting on all four her limbs.
“Hah” she heard one of the men who captured her say “watch her pant, like the Scottish bitch she is!”
The baron shouted to his people: “Prepare a banquet! We did not get a boar, but brought back something even tastier!”
Merida scarcely could believe her ears. Were those stories they told her as a toddler actually true? Were the English really cannibals? They were going to eat her?
She almost sighed in relief when she heard the baron say to a man who, apparently, was the priest of the local church: “Father, you are of course invited. We may need your advice tomorrow as well. She’s a poacher, probably a spy, but I suspect she may practice witchcraft as well”. The cleric hastily crossed himself.
“Bring out the meat, the bread, the wine!” ordered the baron. “And give our guest a place of honor at our banquet. One of the cages will do perfectly. The one with the… extra restraining measure, for this feisty redhead”.
While the banquet was prepared, Merida was untied. Briefly she thought about struggling, but soon abandoned the idea. Not only had she almost no strength left; even had she been fresh and well rested, unarmed against about thirty men she would never manage to escape. So, she meekly let herself be lead to the ominous cage, and stepped inside without offering any resistance. She knew such devices were sometimes used to keep the one unlucky enough to be imprisoned inside till hunger, thirst and exposure resulted in death. She was, however, relatively sure the baron would not let her die without first having his way with her. I'm almost forced to hope they'll rape me, she mused.
"A pretty redhead with such luscious tits sure ain't a virgin, right?". The voice of the woodman, who apparently acted also as chief torturer, recalled her from her pondering. He started rubbing some grease in her privates, and went on: "In that case, what comes now will only cause you a minor inconvenience".
While stepping inside the cage Merida had not noticed a bar on the floor, upon which a spike, about 8 or 9 inches long, was mounted. It was now raised, so that it almost entirely entered her sex. Indeed, it was not thick or long enough to cause great pain. She realized, however, that her ability to move, already very low in the cage, was now reduced almost to zero. She couldn't even lean back to support herself against the back of the cage. "Great" she thought. "Almost four hours running behind a horse, and now they force me to stand for who knows how long".
Her arrangement, however, was not yet complete, so her tormentors decided. She saw one of the baron’s henchmen arrive, carrying something he passed to the woodsman. “Ah” he said “took your sweet time in fetching this toy, you kept our Lady here waiting!” He then proceeded to affix the metallic object to the cage, at the height of Merida’s face.
By its very shape she could immediately guess what was coming next. It was another phallus-shaped cylinder, more or less the same length and width of the one fixed in her vagina. It was now almost touching her lips. A screw at the end, however, made it clear the device could be extended…
“Open up wide, if you do not want your teeth smashed in!” ordered the woodsman-torturer. Again, Merida briefly considered resisting, but again she resigned herself to the fact that resistance would avail her nothing. She opened her mouth, the screw was turned and the metallic dick entered her oral cavity several inches, till it touched the back of her throat.
While not as rough and painful on her lips as the improvised wooden gag had been, it still made breathing hard, and combined with the metallic cage all around her and the first phallus keeping her pelvis immobilized, all movement was now denied her. She could only move her head back an inch, maybe one and a half.
As soon as she did so, to ease the pressure on her neck muscles, laughter and dirty remarks erupted all around her. She realized it looked as if she was performing fellatio on the unwelcome metallic invader they had forced into her mouth. The sudden realization that now she had to choose between the pain of keeping totally still and this further humiliation made her cheeks turn fiery red, and tears well in her eyes.
A normie!
