Adventures in Marburg or Spells that Make Us (Fetterette & Dr Bellwright)

[Dr Bellwright]

Heimrad von Balder the Second, High Council of Magi of Marburg, the Wizard who was author to two new spells, was seating on the bench of his modest-looking, yet fully equipped wagon, and fumed. It was just a few hours since that girl…Kethara, the girl who didn't even have a title, rejected him. What was going through her mind when she accepted a "bodyguard job". That he needed a bodyguard? And a…girl?! Why would a man need a woman with him on the road anyway?

He was riding waves after waves of anger, ever since Kethara wiggled her way out of what he thought, was the completely reasonable arrangement. She would dress in the attire he prepared for her, to boost his respect among the peasants in the Marburg, and of course, she could work with her mouth and tongue from time to time on him. It was a long and boring trip after all. He didn't even want to force intercourse on the village girl. He was in his humble opinion very understanding, and conscientious.

He would get a bump in his popularity, she would be eased into the culture of Marburg, and its greater areas. She was young and had a lot to learn about how to be cultured, and what it meant to be a woman.

But instead, she rejected him, and now she sat near the back window of the wagon, probably pretending to be guarding against bandits that could follow them. Ha. His ravens would have warned him.

"Stupid, irresponsible, infantile, girl." – He mumbled into his beard. – "Take control over the horse girl." – He shouted, and waited for Kethara to come to him, and take control – "I need time to read a book." – He lied and retreated to the chest where he kept his spellbook, and ingredients he was collecting on his trip around the badlands and swamps.

Heimrad wasn't exactly an understanding or forgiving type. Not a lot of forgiving or nice wizards survived through years of political intrigues and backstabbings. And now he wanted to make sure that the girl was punished. He looked at the costume he prepared for her and a smile touched the corners of his lips. He pulled out ingredients and started working on a new spell. To his knowledge, no one created anything like this. There were curses, but nothing that would make a person wear a specific type of clothing. Or in this case armor.

He spent almost an hour devising, his new, simple yet elegant curse, which for sure would be a masterpiece among the nobles, who wanted their serfs and wives skewed towards particular attires.

He looked at the girl and pronounced the first part of the incantation he just invented. Burning a purple orchid and a little bit of aluminum mercury. He can pronounce the second part of the spell later, activating it instantly. But for now, he just needed to wait for another hour till they arrived at the border.

Heimrad didn't like a waste. He wouldn't be as successful as he was if he wasn't. He will sell the girl to the border guards, or whoever else he meets at the border.

A few hours later.

"Wait for me here girl." – Heimrad threw his words at Kethara as he jumped off the wagon. Which was a surprising amount of spunk for a middle-aged wizard. He walked towards the guards with something that could be classified as excitement. Quite surprising for Kethara, since he spent the last two hours being grumpy, and barely speaking to her.

Three of them. Two burly guards and Heimrad himself talked in hushed tones for a little bit. Guards looked at her a few times, but Kethara didn't know how to react to that, it was her first border crossing after all.

But then everything changed very fast. The mage turned to her and said some words in the old tongue. The next moment she could feel itching fields across the entirety of her body where clothes touched her. Mage pronounced a second spell and green light escaped his hands and pushed the girl off the wagon. She hit the ground, itching, and confused. And a few seconds later Heimrad threw the costume he prepared for her – "If you want to wear anything, wear this, or don't, I don't give a donkey's ass." – Heimrad said, and snapped the whip, commanding his horses to move.

When he left two burly guards started to slowly approach increasingly uncomfortable Kethara.

Heimrad smiled to himself. The girl brought him luck. She brought him challenge. From the challenge, he prevailed and invented yet another spell. Spell that would bring him money and popularity that he craved so much. Heimrad von Balder the Second, High Council of Magi of Marburg was sure that fortune and gods were on his side.

 

[Fetterette]

When Heimrad jumps down off the wagon to approach the border guards, Kethara feels as though they have finally turned a corner. The bearded wizard, her traveling companion, has been nothing short of insufferable since she set him straight. It was baffling to her that he had thought she would accept his absurd offer.

He had hired her to guard him on his journey here to Marburg. She had done her job, keeping him safe, even if there had not actually been any threats to deal with on the road. How could he have assumed that she would accept his sexual advances? The wizard had spent enough time around her people. He should have known that such favor was never given lightly by the women of her tribe. It was certainly not handed over to men like him.

But, as he goes off to deal with the guards, Kethara realizes that none of that really matters any longer. She has arrived at the City, and she is ready to begin her new life. Looking up at the structures of the city beyond the walls, she is filled with both fear and excitement. She has left behind everything she knew to come to this place.

"You can do this," she says softly to herself. "You're going to build a new life here."

Kethara looks up, seeing that Heimrad has finished his business with the guards. She offers him a smile. Perhaps she can mend her relationship with him. After all, she doesn't know anyone in the city. It would be good to have a friend here, just to get things started.

But he returns some strange words for her smile. At once, she gasps, as the strange sensation washes over her. It feels, suddenly, as though the inside clothing and armor she wears is covered with tiny pins. The skin of her belly, her back, her arms, and her legs is suddenly alight with the unpleasant sensation, as though her clothing is suddenly infested with biting, crawling vermin.

Her hands are moving to her body, pulling at the wide belt around her waist, when the second spell hits her. The green force throws her from her seat on the wagon. Hitting the ground hard, she feels the breath ripped from her lungs. Lying there in the dirst, panting, the itching sensation only seems to intensify.

Heedless of where she is, of the fact that she is out under the sun's broad daylight, Kethara is overwhelmed by the need to get the offending clothing off her body. She has no idea what the wizard has done to her, but the horrible itching is nothing short of unbearable. Moving quickly, she unbuckles the belt and tosses it aside. Rising to her knees, she yanks off her shoulder pauldrons. Her supple leather shirt comes next, and she gasps with relief as it takes the burning itching with it away from her upper body.

One arm across her newly bared breasts, she looks up to see the brawny guards standing over her. Kethara's eyes go to the shiny metal cups of the thing that the wizard tosses to her. She picks it up, tentatively, and brings it up to cover her breasts. Fastening it in place with its light chains, she is relieved to discover that it does not bring more of the itching sensaiton with it.

The blushing woman glares off after the departing wizard and his wagon for only a moment. The burning itching sensation still rages across her legs, however, and needs to be dealt with. Rising up a little on her knees, she yanks open her leather breaches and then quckly shoves them down over her hips. She sits back on the dusty road then and quickly yanks them off her legs.

Don't think about what you're doing, she repeats in her mind. Just get through this. You'll get your revenge on the wizard for this indignity.

Without even looking up at the guards, she quickly dresses in the remainder of the items the wizard left for her. The outfit, such as it is, seems to be a mockery of armor. Her shins, forearms, and breasts are protected with shiny metal, but nothing more than that. She adjusts the soft white panel that hangs from her waist as she rises. Only then does she turn her attention to the guards.

"It seems I am looking for work," she says, trying to sound more confident than she feels in the aftermath of the strange experience. "Do you men know of anyone who might need a bodyguard?"

 

[Dr Bellwright]

Samuel and Nicolas approached the lone girl on the ground and stopped a few feet away. She is a tad weird – Sam thought – I hope she doesn't have those venereal diseases, that will make me itch too. – He continued his line of thought and looked at his partner Nicolas.

They wore plain leather armor, and leather britches. They weren't usually responsible for active guard roles. They just needed to look menacing enough to collect taxes from merchants, peasants, and another folk. If anything happened, they would retreat, and let somebody else risk their lives after all. Those two had a very comfy job, and on some days, this comfy job was very very fortunate.

Nicolas was also a little confused. Wizard promised them a girl for a few hours in exchange for import tariffs, but she did behave weirdly. At first, he assumed she was trying to dance, but being a wild girl from the tribes probably didn't know how to. But then she just changed into new attire.

Now she was standing in front of them, and asking for a job. Both men looked at each other and shrugged. "Shall you tell her?" – Both said in unison, and then fist-bumped each other. Like every time they said the same thing. They were guard partners for 5 years now, and one gets into your head.

"Look at her cute-cute attire she wears just for us." – Niclas said, elbowing Samuel in ribs with a mischievous smile.

"I don't know about work." – Samuel said, rubbing his chin. – "You see, Heimrad." – He pointed towards a rapidly disappearing wagon. – "Told us that you will…how should I put it."

"Entertain us." – Nicolas said with a smile – "He owes us taxes, and you are a payment."

And then both men nodded at each other and stepped towards Kethara from both sides, flanking her, like they would flank a thief. – "What's your name?" – Samuel, who was on her right asked her, genuinely curious, but also years of training taught him, that talking to a target can put said target at ease.

Nicolas could feel blood rush through his body, and downward towards his member as he closed the distance, and his arm landed on the girl's firm ass. He wrapped his second hand around her, before she started to wiggle too much, and squeezed her. Nicolas wasn't exactly sure what game did this girl play. She started by undressing in front of them, changing into the attire of a professional seductress, and now behaved like she didn't like it.

"I think she is playing with us." – Samuel said, interrupting Nicolas' thoughts, – "Pretending to be all innocent, in this kind of…" – He trailed off, not sure how to call her clothes. There was some fancy word, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember it.

By this time two large guards managed to sandwich the girl between their musky leather armors. – "She has some spunk." – One of them said. But the situation was heating up, and Kethara didn't know them well enough to just recognise the voice. And the situation did heat up quickly.

Their rough, callous hands were all over her body. Sqeezing her arse, and sliding across her lobe, and between her legs. She could feel the thin chain on her armored bra snap, and both of her breasts were squeezed hard the moment it happened.

"Don't worry we'll take good care of you." – One of them said – "And let you out in an hour." – And another voice added – "Or two."

 

[Fetterette]

“Tell me what?” Kethara asks as the two men celebrate their simultaneous speech.

She remains planted in place as the men approach her, hands down by her sides. She cannot help but notice the way they move toward her, recognizing similar tactics to those her people use when approaching a potential danger. She stays still. They are guards. They are the authority here. She doesn’t want any trouble with them.

“Entertain you? A tax payment?” She asks quickly. “There must be some mistake. That man holds no right to me.”

Her mind races, and she curses the wizard inwardly. Is there no end to the foul man’s treachery? First that strange spell and now this?

“I am Kethara,” she answers the question.

Though her instincts tell her to flee, she remains in place as the men move in so close. In truth, she has nowhere to run to. She has traded her home for this place, a decision she is beginning to regret.
She cries out softly in surprise when a calloused hand lands on the firm globe of her ass. She instinctively moves forward, directly into the other man. She feels a strong arm around her waist as she is pressed between the two guardsmen.

At first, she only tries to squirm and wriggle away as those rough hands help themselves to her nearly naked body. The whole situation has her off guard. She’s never experienced or even heard of something like this.

But when the hand moves around her hip and begins to slip past the panel off her new outfit, anger pushes her confusion to the side. The light chain of her top snaps easily, and then she growls when rough hands maul her breasts.

Their taunting, condescending words are infuriating. She is not some token of payment. She’s not spending hours with these louts.

“Enough!” Snarling, Kethara suddenly rises up onto her toes and then drives her head back as hard as she can, trying to hit the man behind her’s face with the back of her skull.

 

[Dr Bellwright]

The duo paused for a short moment. Kethara landed back of her head right into Samuel's nose. But it took him a couple of seconds to realize what happened. He was standing behind her. One hand groped and squeezed her breast. Another hand rubbed her lobe, in an attempt to find a nib, that his friends told him about. The nib that made every woman cry in pleasure. He liked the idea of making this girl beg for more, it stroked his ego just right. And in this excitement of search, his brain took its time to actually notify him that he was hit, and was bleeding.

Nicolas' hands froze too. He saw a trickle of blood move down Samuel's face, he wasn't sure how it happened. He was busy squeezing her other boob, and his hand was exploring the girl's ass, squeezing it, and well, also trying to reach below, and between her legs.

But then reality finally caught up with facts. And Samuel released the girl, stumbled one step away, and roared in pain – "Aarrgrgh, you fucking whore." – He exclaimed in indignation. – "Hold her tight." – He barked at Nicolas, and his partner responded to the military order without thinking. Nicolas slapped her with the back of his hand across her face, then undercut her with his foot and threw her on the ground face first.

Pulling a short rope from his belt, he attempted to catch her arms, "Samuel, stop crying about your nose, you should have been getting used to it by now and help me." – Nicolas barked back at his partner, placing his knee on the small of Kethara's back. Soon trio was wriggling on the ground, as guards started to tie Kethara's hands behind her back.

"Stand up." – It was definitely Samuel, his voice different, now that his nose was blocked. He grabbed Kethara by the hair and unceremoniously lifted her on her feet.

Nicolas grabbed her metal cups, and ripped it from her body, throwing it to the side – "I like her lower part, it doesn't prohibit anything." – He said, and both men laughed as they pushed her against the rough stone wall of their guard box. She heard noises of buckles, and leather, and could guess that at least one of them started to undress. Right there and now.

 

[Fetterette]

Kethara grins with satisfaction when she feels the impact of the back of her head with the guard’s nose. Those gripping hands finally release her as he stumbles back away from her.

But then, her world is rocked by the thunderous smack of the other man’s backhand across her face. She sees stars for a moment, hair flying wildly around her head. Her legs are easily knocked out from under her and she hits the ground hard.

She recovers a moment later to feel a knee driving down into the small of her back. She fights desperately against them, but they have every advantage: in numbers and in their natural strength and weight.

“No! Let me go!” She cries out.

Her hands are drawn, inevitably, behind her back. She feels the tight coils of rope wrap around her wrists, tying them firmly to one another. She twists her hands desperately behind her, but there is no slipping free of these bonds.

“You canno- Ahhh!!”

Her words are cut off by the sudden upward yank of her hair. She struggles to get her feet under her, tears welling in her eyes from the sharp pain. She gasps when the remainder of the ridiculous metal top is easily torn away and tossed to the side.

Kethara’s bare breasts heave as she is thrust against the wall, panting hard for breath. Her nostrils flare as she hears at least one of them undressing. Her mind races. This cannot be happening.

Muscles straining, a sheen of sweat glistening on her flesh, she pulls hard against the ropes on her wrists. But there is no give to them.

Dread knotting up her stomach, she presses into the wall and kicks out behind her, trying to hit one of the men.

 

[Dr Bellwright]

Her kick lands on somebody's shin, man grunts, but nothing else happens. She is disadvantaged by the proximity to the wall. Her foot doesn't have enough space to accelerate and cause some real damage. Nicolas only exhaled and smiled at a kick. He kicked her back. Lightly, only adding to the insult. He didn't even kick her properly this time. Just to show her, that he doesn't even need to apply a lot of force any longer.

As his main hand-pressed girl into the wall, his second-hand maneuvers under tender silk between her buttocks. His fingers slid across a tiny hole of an arsehole, and down towards her slit. – "Such a fresh little girl you are." – He says, and starts to rub her. While his thick sausage fingers rub her pussy, his thumb lands squarely onto her arsehole.

"I'm done." – Samuel announced with pride and stepped out of his leather britches that he just pulled off.

Nicolas is torn for a moment. He wants to get rid of his armour too. He wants to feel girl flesh on his flesh, and without leather armor in between, but he also doesn't want to stop what he is doing now. His indecisiveness manifested as greed. His fingers move faster between her legs.

Finally, he grabs Kethara by the hair and throws her towards now naked Samuel.

"Fuck me, this is a good day." – He says, nose still bloody, but his smile is wide, like a boy looking at the candy on the market day. He pushes Kethara back into the wall. But this time she is facing Samuel with her back against the stone. He grabs the girl by the throat, squeezing her just enough to change the color of her face, and then starts to land slaps across her breasts, one after each other, until they are both rosy red.

She Samuel's cock swaying in the air mere inches from her and Nicolas now barechested working his trousers.

"Which hole do you want us to explore the first girl?" – Samue asks with a narcissistic smile on his face. He dreams that she would say arse. – "I could be swayed to fuck you in the arse. Keep you pure and all if you care." – He says full of himself, slapping her across her breasts again.

 

[Fetterette]

Kethara groans when her kick lands so inneffectually and he returns a light one back to her. Held there so firmly, bare breasts and cheek pressed against the rough wall, she has never felt so helpless in her life.

When the rough hand slips beneath the silken panel behind her to find her most intimate flesh, the trapped girl lets out a desperate mewling sound. She hates the sound of it as soon as it leaves her lips. It sounds so pathetic and small and pitiful. She brings her thighs together firnly, but only succeeds in trapping those meaty digits there against her labia.

"Please," she whimpers softly, cheeks burning with shame as his thumb comes to press against her asshole. "Please don't do this. I'm sorry."

Her plea ignored, she cries out when she is abruptly yanked away from the wall and thrust toward the now-naked other man. And then the pull on her hair is replaced with a tight grip around her throat. Her eyes go wide in real terror as that strong hand holds her neck so fiercely. She fights for breath, gasping and panting, as he presses her back against the wall.

When the first slap hits her small, firm breast, it takes a moment for what is happening to register with her mind. Then the pain arrives, just in time for it to be joined by another wicked slap to the other breast. Bound hands trapped against the wall behind her, toes pressed down hard into the ground to keep herself up and lessen the impact on her throat, she can do nothing to defend herself as the blows continue to land on her helpless breasts.

Soon her breasts are red and aching, the flesh hot from the abuse. Her nipples stand out hard against the crimson flesh. Kethara sobs helplessly, hot tears streaming down her cheeks as she squirms against the wall, panting for breath.

When her abuser stops the assault to ask her how she would like to be violated, his words strike her harder than his hand. They are going to rape her. She has barely arrived at the City, not even passed its walls, and already the stern warnings she had received from the tribe are coming true.

She wants to plead with the men to spare her this, to beg them to just let her go. But the man's rampant cock, quivering in the air so close to her, tells her that there will be no turning these men aside. Belly knotting up painfully, she makes the only choice she can.

"Please m-OW!" she cries out, a desperate squeak of pain when his hand strikes her breast again. She forces the words out between slaps, sobbing helplessly. "Please... yes... my... my arse..."

It all seems so unreal, as though it must be a nightmare from which she will awake, back safely with her tribe. Did she truly just ask these men to violate her bottom? She can't think of it that way. This is about survival, nothing more. She cannot risk becoming pregnant by these foul men.

 

[Dr Bellwright]

"Arse is a bit dry usually." – Nicolas' interjects, he knows his role now, the girl could be naive enough to fall for some playful games – "I don't like dry-fucking Samuel. I'd rather have her properly in that sweet cunt of hers." – Nicolas' voice is casual as if they are talking about whether to eat roast beef or stew for the dinner.

Samuel's lips widen in a cruel yet sly smile – "I'm sure girl here…" – He pauses, making his grip on her neck a little bit looser, just a bit – "Would suck you and me eagerly, for the chance of keeping her purity." – Samuel said, and moved his free arm towards Kethara's mouth. His thick finger pressed against her full lips as if demanding her to demonstrate how would she do it.

Both men exchanged the look, they even felt a spike of pride, among all the arousal that was slushing around. Pride for the fact that they both played this girl. They could just rape her, but it was so much more fun, to make her beg to rape her.

Samuel pushed his fingers into her mouth, in and out, looking back at her with a sinister smile or a predator who wanted to play with his prey before getting to business.

"Get on your knees if you still want us to only own you in the arse." – Nicolaus announced his cock hard in his hand.

Samuel released the girl's neck and made a step back, daring her, seeing if she was broken enough to follow the orders, or had some spunk in her left to fight.

 

[Fetterette]

She gasps a deeper breath, sucking air into her burning lungs, when the grip on her throat loosens slightly. But then her eyes widen when rough, dirty fingers press between her lips. She does nothing to stop their entry, though a crimson blush stains her cheeks. Her breasts still throb with pain. Better to bear this indignity than to face another beating.

She gags, eyes squeezing shut and new tears forming, when those fingers reach the back of her throat. When they pull back out, she moves her tongue along the length of the grimy fingers. The musky, dirty taste of the vile man fills her mouth.

Pinned to the wall, she focuses her attention on those nasty, fat digits as he fucks her mouth with them. She hates him. She despises both of these men, and vows revenge against them. But this is not the time for defiance. That way only lies more pain. Better to simply get these horrible men to let her sate their carnal lust with her lips and tongue than the alternative.

When the man orders her to her knees and then abruptly releases her, Kethara stumbles forward away from the wall. Unbound, with a weapon in her hands, she thinks she might be able to take these brutes in a fight. But she is bound, her hands trapped and useless behind her. Worse, she realizes that her blade is still in its scabard, leaned against the seat of the wizard's wagon.

She could run. If she could slip past them now, she doubts these louts would be able to match her speed or stamina. But where would she go? What would she do? What worse situation might she find herself in out there in the wilderness topless and bound?

Groaning softly, she lowers her eyes as the man strokes himself in front of her. Slowly, she sinks to her knees, getting as comfortable as she can manage. Hands balled into fists behind her back, she opens her mouth and awaits his approach.

Just get through this moment. Get free of them, and then find the wizard and make him pay for what he has done.

 

[Dr Bellwright]

Both men looked at each other, standing there naked in front of the empty city gates with a gorgeous young girl between them. – "Good girl." – Nicolas said and made a gesture with his hand as if he expected Kethara to crawl towards his cock. There was a pinch of guilt somewhere in his voice, but it was drowned in lust and desire. His veiny cock was fully engorged, and his eyes were hungry. There was a spark of anger when he noticed that girl wasn't going to move. It could be because she didn't notice the gesture in the shock of it all – "I think she is a bit lazy."

Samuel smiled. He didn't need another invitation. He grabbed the girl by the hair, and tilted her forward, straining her body, as he impaled her face onto Nicolas' cock. – "Look at that, it slid right in." – Nicolas said, and grabbed the girl by the face – "Make it very sloppy, make sure you salivate a lot, we wouldn't want to hurt you more than we need to." – His voice was mockingly caring.

Samuel was standing behind her, guiding her head onto his cock, as if she was his toy, and smiling. – "I think I better start preparing her arse." – He said aloud, making sure that she heard him.

He lowered onto one knee behind her. Still holding her by the hair with one hand – he spat on the finger of his free hand and guided it down between her buttocks. He smiled, wide and happy. He couldn't believe how smart they were. They literally made this dumb village girl beg them to fuck her in the arse.

He pressed his finger against her arsehole and started to slowly move it in.

If only anyone could see this. Nicolas was on his feet, his hands holding Kethara's head as he started to move his hips, face fucking girl's pretty face. And Samuel, on his knee behind, both holding her head fixed and slowly screwing his finger in her.

"Tell us when you are a ready girl." – Nicolas said sternly, – "And I can start fucking you properly."

 

[Fetterette]

"Lazy?" she asks.

The words have only just left her lips when a hand is in her hair once more. In the entirety of her life, she has not had her hair pulled as many times as she has since being left with these two guards. The hold forces her to bend forward, leaning out from her knees precariously. With her hands bound behind her back, she has no way to aid her balance.

And then her lips are parted by the thick veiny cock as it enters her mouth. She gags on it as it spears the back of her throat, making her slender body convulse. She blushes fiercely as rough fingers grab her wet cheeks. Bent forward awkwardly, she can only grunt in response to his command to make it sloppy. Her tongue moves in her mouth, gliding around the shaft that fills her world.

His advice regarding the saliva was completely unnecessary. With each plunge of that fat cock deep into her mouth, the saliva comes unbidden when she chokes on its presence. As it passes back out, never fully leaving her mouth, her falling tears mix with the sputtering drool.

When the other man's hands leave her head, she feels a moment of relief. It quickly evaporates when the other one takes hold and begins to direct her mouth instead. The dread intensifies when the one behind her talks of readying her bottom.

Kethara's toes curl inside her sandals when those rough, fat fingers slip so easily between the cheeks of her bottom. She tries to relax herself, to ease the inevitable entry of that thick digit into her bottom. Her world is consumed by desperate, wet gasps for breath between the thrusts into her mouth and the insistent press of that finger inside her tight asshole.

All thoughts of pleasing these men with her mouth and sparing her bottom evaporate. She is not in control of anything here. These men are using her as they will. She has no chance of using her clever tongue to sate them. She is being choked by cock when the driving finger finally drives its way fully inside her, impaled at once from both sides of her body.

"You... You... Hwahhk..." she tries to speak when he pulls out of her mouth, only to have her words stolen by another plunge of the shaft into her throat. She is convulsing, chest heaving, when it pulls out once more but manages to quickly spit out the words. "Fuck... fuck my arse."

 

[Dr Bellwright]

Meanwhile in City Centre

Heimrad was seating on the bench of his Wagon next to the building that housed his apartment, waiting for the servant to start unpacking his luggage. He decided to use this opportunity of quiet time to see what was going on with a girl and connected to his raven familiar.

"The little whore." – He mumbled, disgusted, angry, and impressed at the same time. – "Little whore didn't even want to blow me a few times, and now she was begging two low-born guards, who had dead-end jobs without any prospect of making anything out of their pitiful lives to fuck her in the arse.

Heimrad didn't even notice how his hand reached to his groin, and he started to gently massage his cock through the tunic. – "Sir, would you want me to start?" – Heimdal was interrupted in a rather compromising position, of having his palm moving along his groin, and his eyes white and wide open as he was connected to the raven. – "I was just scratching my balls." – Heimrad said, and hated himself for making an excuse for this servant. He can do whatever he wants in front of him, why did he make up this story? – "Get on with a business and leave me be." – Mage said, and swore to himself that he would seek revenge on the whore, who dared to deny him, just to be so willing with dirty peasants. He felt the itch of betrayal. He took her from her dirty, uneducated tribe, and she didn't even… He shook his head and got off the wagon. He will deal with her later, now he had council business to attend.

At the City Borders
Nicolas was smashing his cock down Kethara's throat, harder and harder. He knew, that he would feel pity for a girl, but right now she was here to please him. The sight of her tears only added to the fire, as he rammed his cock into her mouth. And then she started gagging, and then he heard the magic words. – "I think she's ready." – Nicolas said his smile wide. He pulled his cock out, letting Kethara breathe for the first time freely. He watch her gasp for air for a few long seconds with his cold blue eyes, waiting for Samuel to finish, and then walked behind her and dropping on one knee.

Samuel pulled his finger out of her unceremoniously. He couldn't wait for his turn, to have those sweet lips around his engorged member. The sounds of the girl gargling and gasping, and drooling around his colleague's cock – "Alright my turn." – Samuel stood up and walked towards Kethara's face, and slammed his cock against her lips. He grabbed her by the face and started to walk back a few steps. Forcing the girl to be horizontal. Since her hands were tied behind her back, she couldn't hold herself up.

Two hot hands, still covered in her spit landed with a loud sound on her buttocks. Nicolas announced his "arrival" with a pair of spanks across her arse and pressed his thick, throbbing cock down her arse. It wasn't quick. He pushed, and pushed against resistance.

But soon the girl was properly spit roasted between two hunks, who started to fuck her from both ends.

 

[Fetterette]

Kethara is sputtering and gasping for breath when the cock finally leaves her mouth. Her stomach muscles tense as she lifts herself slightly upright to stop from pitching forward onto the ground.

She pants hard, nostrils flared, as this shift in position makes that buried finger in her ass seem to drive in deeper. The tight muscles of her bottom cheeks clench around his hand.

She gasps as the finger is suddenly yanked free. She squirms there on her knees, those bottom muscles reacting to the sudden emptiness.

Even though she knows it is coming as soon as the other man comes to stand in front of her, she is still stunned by the sudden press of the new shaft into her mouth. Hands grip her face, one of which containing the finger that had so recently been inside her.

Kethara, eyes squeezed shut, unable to breathe with the cock buried deep in her throat, expects the in and out assault to begin. Instead, she can only whine helplessly as he holds her there and slowly walks backwards.

When he finally stops, her body is horizontal, bare breasts hanging toward the ground beneath her. Unable to support herself, she is completely at the mercy of his controlling hands.

Just as he begins to draw her back along his shaft, she cries out around it at the hard smacks to her ass cheeks.

And then the cock behind her, still wet with her spit and tears, begins the firm press into her bottom. As it forces its length into her, she struggles to relax. It feels too big, impossibly so, as though it will stretch her tight entry to breaking.

Pinned between them, impaled on their cocks like a pig prepared on a spit, she struggles to send her mind away as they fuck her. The pain and humiliation refuse to let her go, however, and she can only cry helplessly as her body is used by them.

 

[Dr Bellwright]

"She is so fucking tight" – Nicolas exclaimed behind her, as he shoved his cock into her, his ball sack hitting her pussy when he stopped. Both men penetrated Kethara's mouth and ass, without

In the beginning, two men moved out of sync, simply drilling her in the mouth and ass, but with every push, with every thrust, they got into the rhythm. Ramming into her simultaneously, and retreating back. Occasionally one of them would try to reach for her breasts. Pinch a nipple, or squeeze the entire boob. But the fact that they needed to hold her up while she was tied didn't help this particular endeavor, and they had to retreat. Placing their hands back on her head, or sides.

Their cocks, thick, hot, and throbbing were smashing into Kethara, with more and more urgency, and by now anyone would be on the brink of their energy. Men started to breathe heavier, and one of them even shouted something, and then she could feel the warmth. At both ends, but one more urgent than another. Her mouth was filled with salty, thick, cum. Guards kept hammering into her mouth, harder, now that it was the last push. Releasing second, and the third load into a girl.

"Come one, swallow every drop, or I just might shove whatever of my seed is left into your pussy." – Samuel said, towering above her. His cock was only half-deep in her mouth, not moving, and noticeably softer. Still hot, and throbbing, but no longer the device that can block her breathing. He pulled his cock out and started to slide it across her pretty face, leaving marks of his cum on her cheeks, nose, and lips.

Whatever revenge she was plotting got interrupted, with particularly strong slaps, that Nicolas issued on her buttocks. He didn't let her recover from them and immediately grabbed, and squeezed her buttocks hard, and started to wiggle them, playing with them like toys. – "This is the arse to die for. I hope you tell us which brothel you'll end up working." – Guard behind her said, and with this, both men laughed and stood up. They let her drop to the ground and into the dirt, still wearing now not-so-white silk cover.

A few moments later…or maybe even minutes…Kethara could feel that her hands were now free. If she looked behind her, she'd see guards standing there, looking at her with amused looks on their faces.

"We are even now. Tariffs are paid in full." – Samuel and Nicolas said in unison. Two naked men fist-bumped again and Samuel leaned in towards the pouch in the bundle of his clothes and fished out a couple of coins and threw them towards Kethara to catch – "Sorry for the…" – He used his palms to mimic her metal bra – "Damaging your attire. This should cover it."

He didn't realize, that the nonchalant way he talked about it, only added insult to an injury. But Nicolas continued – "You were asking about a job. There are brothels all-around city, I recommend going to Merchant's district, you are not skilled enough yet for Ambassadorial or high blood ones." – He paused, and chewed something – "If you want to have a side job, There is a Drunken Fox Inn nearby, you can find odd jobs there." – Nicolas looked her toned and fit body one more time – "Of course if you have aspirations of being an adventurer." – He said, and nodded towards her old clothes, that were now a pile of itching history – "There is an Adventur's Guild by the docks." – Nicolas said, but both started to laugh. Samuel continued what Nicolas started – "But don't show up there like this, or you won't be able to walk straight for months."

And with this, and their clothes bundled up, they simply turned around and walked back to their stone guardhouse. They were quiet until the door opened, and one of them said – "She fucks like a champ, she'd go places." – and the door closed. And that's how they would remember this day. Taxes paid, and the girl was a champ. They wouldn't bother remembering that they raped and used her.

 

[Fetterette]

Kneeling there, the guards hammering into her body from both sides, Kethara begins to choke and gag when the first spray of his cum hits the back of her throat. Bound as she is, controlled by his hands on her head, she can do nothing but struggle to swallow it all as he continues to drive in and out of her mouth. When he finally stops, she thinks he will withdraw, but he continues to use her face for his pleasure. And then he is cumming again, spewing another thick load into her throat.

Rough hands grip her sides from behind, thumbs pressed into her ass as the second guard unloads into her asshole just as a third load releases into her mouth. She groans with relief when the fucking finally stops then and his shaft begins to soften. She had begun to wonder if it would ever end. Blushing fiercely, she licks at his softening cock in her mouth, trying to clean it as best she can in her dazed state. And then she groans as the wet things plays across her face, leaving its trail.

She cries out at the sudden assault on her already brutalized ass. The sound of his rough smacks seems to fill the air. the rough fingers press into her flesh, mauling the firm globes of her asscheeks. And then she collapses to the ground when they finally release her. She tries to calm her breathing as she lies there. She's made it through. It's over. She's been beaten, and her whole body aches. She's been raped. But she has made it through.

When they free her hands, she rises up a little to sit in the dirt, bringing her hands in front of her and checking her wrists. Well, the wizard's silly metal bracers at least protected her skin from most of the abrasion, she thought. She listens carefully as the men share the limited information with her about the town.

"I'm not a whore," she says softly. "I won't be working at a brothel."

As if to prove the lie of those words, she crawls over to collect the coins he tosses to her. When they leave her, returning to their shack, Kethara goes back to where her old clothes sit on the ground. Tentatively, she picks up her leather jerkin and begins to pull it on. At once, the wicked itching sensation returns and she tosses it back on the ground. She tries the leather and chainmail mantle, but as soon as it touches her shoulders, that fiery sensation takes over.

"Is it just these clothes, then, that the wizard has cursed?" she asks the empty air around her.

That thought gives her hope. Maybe she can simply trade them for replacements and put this all behind her. She gathers up her clothing, plus the damaged metal top, in a pile. Picking them up, she clutches the bundle to her chest as she rises. Immediately, the itching sensation returns, but not on her breasts. Anywhere else the clothing touches, from her upper arms to her belly and shoulders, feels a return on the itching... but not her breasts.

"By my fucking ancestors," she hisses softly as the full realization of her plight settles in, dropping the bundle once more.

She picks up the wide, fur-trimmed belt of her old clothing and confirms what she already believes to be true. Around her waist, it immediately brings a return of the itching. Pressed against her breasts, it causes none. The magic isn't on her clothing, but rather on her. Shoving aside the thoughts that accompany this realization, she puts her mind to the task.

With her dirty leather leggings, she cleans up her face and bottom as best she can, mostly succeeding in smearing around the cum and dirt. She will only be able take what she can carry in her hands. In her left hand, she holds her leather jerkin and the chain and leather mantle. In her other, she carries her old boots and the remains of her metal top. These are, she thinks, the most valuable things she has. The two coins from the guard sit inside one of the boots she carries.

Kethara tries to appear more confident and self-assured than she feels as she walks, topless and dirty, into the City. She is immediately shocked by the number of people who are here. She has never been around such crowds before. She is grateful that they all seem to mostly be busily going about their business, though some certainly pause to gaze at the sight of her. One such gawker, a young man holding the reins to a horse, she decides to approach.

"Excuse me," she says, trying to keep her voice level and confident despite her state. "Where would I find an armorer?"

The man makes no effort to hide the way his eyes take in every inch of her body. They remain locked lower than her eyes when he speaks in response.

"No armorer's going to let a filthy thing like you disgrace his shop. But I'll make you a deal. I have a little free time. You pay me, say, one coin to get you cleaned up and I'll bring you to the finest leatherworker I know."

Though she is loathe to give up one of her two coins, the thought of a bath and being clean again is too tempting to pass up.

"You have a deal."

---

If Kethara had known what the "cleaning" she was paying for was going to be, she would have declined the offer. A short time later, she finds herself in the stall of a stable. Stripped of her little clothing, she stands with her limbs spread. Leather thongs around her wrists and ankles keep her in that position. She cries out as a bucket of cold water is splashed over her exposed body.

"Now, now, we can't be bothering the neighbors," the stablehand chastises her as he shoves a leather bit between her teeth.

The man, at least, is thorough in his cleaning. He goes to work on her body, scrubbing the grime and probably a layer of skin away with a series of horsebrushes. When he is finished, Kethara is pinkened, shivering, and abraded, but she is clean.

True to his word, the man collects one of her coins, lets her dress and then brings her to his leather-working friend.

---

"The boots alone are worth more than that top!" Kethara snaps angrily at the man.

"Perhaps to you," the leather-worker, a greasy black-haired man, shrugs. "But my clientele have little interest in such obviously primitive craftsmanship. If I manage to sell them at all, it will be to someone who purchases them out of novelty. Who would want armor fit for a woman, in any case?"

She is tempted to leave him then, and to look for someone else to trade with. She might be better off just selling her things outright and trying to find someone to fix the metal top from the wizard. But she just doesn't have the energy for any of that. She is already just so tired of parading around the town topless for all to see.

"Fine. I'll take it. Do you know where I can find a weapon smith?"

"Oh, I know just where you can go."

---

Cleaned, wearing even the simple leather top that covers only her breasts, Kethara does feel far more confident as she enters the woodworker's shop. She is making progress. Now she just needs a weapon. She will get her sword back from the wizard later, along with the coin he owes her for the trip. She'll get him to remove the curse. She will get her life back on track.

She pauses to adjust the leather top before opening the door. The thing never seems to want to stay where she puts it. The shop within is neat and tidy, smelling of cut wood. She admires one of the quarterstaffs in a rack behind the counter.

"What can I help you with? Master send you down to pick up something?" the burly man behind the counter raises an eyebrow.

"I'm here to buy a weapon, for myself."

"I don't have any knives."

"No, I was thinking one of those staves."

The man seems intrigued at the thought, though he chuckles.

"The one you were eyeing is my finest. That would cost you seven. The most basic one, a little lighter but still a solid weapon, costs three."

Kethara groans at the cost, her single coin tucked into her top against her breast.

"What can I buy for one?"

"One? Nothing," the man laughs. "But, you look like a strong girl. If you don't mind an afternoon of labor, I've got a solid cudgel that could be yours."

Kethara nods quickly in response. She follows the woodworker through the back door and into the lot. He leads her to a massive pile of logs waiting to be split. She stops in her tracks, however, when she sees the platform next to the axe and the pile.

"Wait. Why are there chains?" she asks.

"Type of man who normally agrees to work for me is also the type of man who might run off with something valuable like an axe. I can't sit back here and supervise the whole time, of course. That would just be a waste of my time. So I came up with this. I'm afraid you'll have to wear them, too, if you want the job."

She tries to appeal to the man, to convince him she can be trusted, but he will not hear it. In the end, for the third time already this day, she finds herself restrained. Heavy iron fetters close around her ankle. The chain between them is bolted to a ring on the platform where she will work. A chain is wrapped around her waist and locked there, with a length leading from her belly out to the shackles that adorn her wrists. The length and arrangement leave her just enough room to swing the axe and little more.

The work is hot and sweaty as she takes the axe to the pile of wood. Whenever she finishes a stack, she gets a little time to rest until the woodworker comes out to set up a new pile for her. During those visits, he brings her water. The chains force her to let him hold the skin to her lips. While she drinks, his other hand occupies itself with exploring her glistening body. Unlike the gate guards, it never goes beyond groping and exploration. She does nothing to resist or stop him, though she sorely wants to. She is, however, entirely at his mercy in the chains.

The sun is just beginning to set when the work is finished. The woodworker releases her after one last exploration of her body. The club he gives her is a basic thing, but it is at least made of solid wood and seems to be fairly well-weighted for the job.

Taking a deep breath as she leaves the shop, she heads off across town to the port district, ready to approach the Adventurer's Guild.

 

[Dr Bellwright]

Kethara could hear muffled noises of people talking, shouting, singing, and probably fighting as she approached the large door of the only stone building in the neighborhood. It is situated in the Docks district, next to the Merchants and Noble district, and some say that certain noble houses had secret passages from their homes and to the guild headquarters. Another urban myth said that it was built out of wood before, but adventurers kept setting headquarters on fire. And mayor decided to rebuild the building out of stone.

But that was all besides the point. The moment Kethara entered the building she heard loud and sharp – "Zing" noise. And if she looked to her left, she would see still an oscillating knife. That was just masterfully thrown into the frame of the door. – "Ah, you are not Francisco!" – Tall man with an accent said, and approached the door to pick his knife ago – "No harm done" – He said in a heavy accent, and looked at Kethara one more time – "Pretty bird." – He smiled, pulled the knife out of the wood, and walked back at his place, with a view at the door.

"Girls use back entrance, this is the entrance for adventurers." – Large man shouted at her, he looked like a head cook, or maybe an innkeeper. And now that Kethara had zero knives in the vicinity and a moment to look around – she could see that Adventurer's Guild was built as if it was a large inn. Where everyone was very armed. – "Francisco is not coming Gabriel." – the innkeeper said, – "If you kill somebody, you dispose of their body yourself, I'm not helping you anymore." – the maybe innkeeper said, looking at Kethara again, and walked off. Probably assuming that no one would just ignore his orders. Maybe he wasn't just an innkeeper.

She looked around, noticing the bar to the right from the entrance and something that looked like a kitchen entrance further down. Empty space was filled with tables, full of people from very diverse origins, mostly men, but she could see women too…but none of them were dressed as skimpy as Kethara, even if some did try to show some skin. She could see an empty arena further down, stairs in distance.

On the wall between the bar and the entrance to the kitchen though there was hope. Something that actually looked like a jobs board, something even girl from a distant village could recognize. If she approached it, she would see the following quests and adverts:

• Vampire killing my chickens. Find me in farmlands on the North. Can give room and eggs for 3 months if you kill him!
• Hiring male wrestlers, to wrestle with pretty girls. Mud wrestling, oil wrestling, first price steel sword, second prize slingshot made by master leatherman, third price 10 coins!
• Looking for a bodyguard for a trip down south. Also looking for a whore, also for a trip down south.
• Gregory, the fishmonger owes me money. Need somebody to beat him up. Seek Alan, the fruit merchant.
• Alan is an arsehole. Need somebody to beat him up. Seek Gregory, the fishmonger.

┌────────────────────┐
│                    │
│   Training Grounds │
│    (Backyard)      │
│                    │
│                    │
│                    │
├────────────────────┤
│ Stairs     Tables  │
│                    │
│            ┌─────┐ │
│            │     │ │
│            │Arena│ │
│            │     │ │
├────────┐   └─────┘ │
│Kitchen │           │
│        │    Tables │
│    ┌───┤           │
│    │   │           │
│    │Bar│    Tables │
│    │   │           │
│    │   │           │
└────┴───┴───────────┘

 

[Fetterette]

Kethara jumps back when the knife hits the door frame next to her, eyes wide. She stares at it quivering there as its owner approaches and retrieves it.

"No, sir, and I think I'm glad I'm not Francisco."

She is about to say more when the large man behind the bar barks out his order. Realizing how she must appear, she almost leaves in that moment. What she is wearing sticks out like a sore thumb among these well-garbed adventurers. Her two actual armor pieces, the shinguards and bracers, seem to actually make her attire look that much worse in contrast. What sort of adventuress would leave so much of her body unprotected? Maybe she should deal with this curse first, and then come back here later.

But, steeling her nerves, she does not turn and leave. Despite the absurd clothing, she is a warrior. It might only be a club, but she has a weapon. She has as much a right to be in this place as anyone else. Still, when she steps forward, she does so more than a little timidly.

That is, she moves slowly until she notices the job board. Her breath catching in her throat, she hurries over to it. Her eyes fly across the listings. She had imagined this moment so many times, growing up in her small village. This is where it would all begin, with the selection of her first job. She giggles at, but discards the idea of getting in the middle of the quarrel between Alan and Gregory.

The listing about the vampire and the chickens seems very promising. It wouldn't really be a vampire, of course. Kethara was sure that it was probably just a fox or something. But the job came with a room. The posting also made her realize that she had nowhere to stay, and no coin left with which to get someplace. The wrestling also seemed promising. She was a fairly good wrestler, often underestimated by her opponents. The thought of winning a steel sword, the sling, or the coins was very tempting. But, first things first, she would need a place to spend the night.

Plucking the notice about the farmer off the board, she is smiling when she approaches the bar. She looks for the man that seemed to be the innkeeper. If she found him before being interrupted by anyone else, she would ask.

"Excuse me, do you have any more information about where I can find this farmer?"

 

[Dr Bellwright]

The answer wasn't what Kethara expected. Instead, somebody grabbed her by the scruff, – "What the fuck do you think you doing here?" – Somebody who didn't know that Kethara probably had enough of people grabbing her by the hair today.

Few Minutes Ago
Alana almost spat the reminder of ale in her mouth, when Kethara entered the guild. It took young warrioress years, three years to be precise, to prove herself to these chauvinistic, misogynistic snobs that women could fight too. And to be fair she wasn't all that successful. She proved that she, Alana could fight, and about a year ago, they stopped trying to dry-hump her every time they saw her. But work wasn't done yet.

And when Kethara entered the guild, a hurricane of thoughts went through her hazy with ale head. What the fuck?! What is she wearing…a dancer outfit and a what the fuck that? Leather bra? Is she trying to get raped, how did she survive this long?

Alana could fill anger fill her from toes to ears, and she stood up and walked behind Kethara, grabbing the girl by the scruff, like a little girl she is.

Now
"What the fuck do you think you doing here?" – Alana's voice was angry but also misty with about 5 or 6 hours of nonstop drinking. Kethara managed to land a good but missed her face by an inch. She threw the girl towards the wall, and in doing so, let Kethara assume a fighting position or at least a defensive stance.

The woman in front of Kethara was tall, taller than her by a good head, and muscular. But most importantly she was dressed, and hard to believe it, but probably dressed in multiple layers of clothing.

"Either dress like a whore, or dress like a warrior. You don't get to be both." – Alana said, and continued – "On the same day, I have nothing against whoring, it's an honest profession, but not at the same time." – Alana corrected her stance on prostitution, and pulled a whip from her belt.

But girls didn't get to start a fight just yet. The main hall of a guild exploded in – "Catfight catfight catfight." – And next moment both women were swept off their feet and dragged into the arena in the middle of the Hall.

A moment later, tipsy Alana and Kethara were standing in the arena. Alana was straightening up her disheveled leather armor. Armor that covered her entire body as if she was teasing Kethara and smiled at the young warrior with a whip in her hand.

 

[Fetterette]

Kethara's jaw drops when she spins to find not a man standing there, but rather a woman. Short club in hand, dropped into a fighting stance, she looks with undisguised longing at the warrior woman's magnificent armor. Despite the obvious slur to her words, the woman radiates strength and confidence that Kethara so longed to possess.

"No, no, it's not like that. I-" Kethara begins to explain, rising up a little bit from her fighting stance.

Her words are interrupted when she is suddenly swept up by the crowd. She tries to pull away when the first meaty hand takes hold of her wrist. That only brings her up against a pair approaching from behind. They grab her legs, picking her up easily. As more hands take hold of her, she quickly discovers that they are not simply there to carry her. She squirms and gasps as fingers explore her flesh, grabbing at her ass and breasts.

When they finally deposit her in the arena, she is flush and panting from the wild journey. A blush rises on her cheek when she realizes that one of her breasts has escaped from the bra. She quickly tucks it back into place, and then reaches behind to pull part of the silken panel out from between her bottom cheeks. Watching the other woman calmly adjust her armor makes Kethara's own actions that much more humiliating.

Holding the club down by her right side, nonthreatening, she lifts her left hand, palm out in her tribe's gesture of peace.

"I am sorry that I have offended you. I do not dress this way by choice. Just this morning, you would have seen me in armor befitting a sister in arms to you. But a treacherous wizard cast a spell on me."

 

[Dr Bellwright]

There is a moment of silence between women after Kethara made her plea to Alana. The moment of hope. The woman's eyes squint a little as if she is thinking over what Kethara just said. Even the crowd is a bit quieter. Most still discuss how they would like to fuck one, or another, or both women. Some lie about how they already fucked both, and they weren't that great. But still, some were quiet.

I'll have to kill this girl, to stop doing or saying stupid shit. – Alana thought to herself, and shook her head in disappointment after a long silence and cracked the whip masterfully a few inches from Kethara. – "Prepare to face your punishment girl." – Alana said and then added – "You looked better and more honest with one boob out." – Implying that she knew very well, what she thought about the claim of being a warrior.

Alana started pacing in half circle around the arena and cracked the whip again, the same precise distance from Kethara's foot. She could feel the breeze that sonic boom created on her bare thighs.

Finally, when she thought that Kethara moved towards her, she cracked the whip again, but this time wrapping it around her right hand, forcing her to drop the club, and pulling her towards her.

"Get rid of your clothes" – Alana demanded and pulled on the whip again – "Get rid of this mockery of the holy profession." – Alana said, and made a step towards Kethara herself, getting her left hand ready for the hook, hitting the girl in her ribs and across her armoured bra.

 

[Fetterette]

Kethara feels a glimmer of hope when the armored woman seems to ponder her plea. They are both women. Surely, the other has some understanding and sympathy for Kethara’s plight.

And then the booming crack of the whip next to her foot makes Kethara jump back in surprise. She clenches her weapon tightly, but stays standing in place.

“Punishment? For what?” She scoffs, some of the anger she felt even the woman grabbed her bubbling back to the surface. “Am I to be punished for the crime of being betrayed by a wizard?”

When the whip cracks again, though, she can’t help but jump back and let out a sharp yelp. The blast of air across her bare thigh tells her just how close it came to her, and just how quickly it is moving.

Realizing she is not going to be able to talk reason to this woman, Kethara rushes forward. Or, at least, she intended to. As soon as she begins to lunge, the whip lashed out again.

The thin leather whips around her wrist. The sudden tug of it yanks her off balance, making her drop her club in surprise.

And then suddenly, the towering woman is there close to her. The fist hits her hard, skidding across her ribs and up into her barely protected chest. The impact sends a burst of pain through her, making her see stars for a moment.

If the other woman did not follow up that first blow while Kethara was staggered, she would try to dive and roll away to create some space, while holding right to the whip cord to try and disarm her opponent

 

[Dr Bellwright]

Alana had dozen years of experience in a field, but 8 pints in 6 hours didn't help her reaction speed. And if she was being frank, she assumed that girl would just drop on the floor after her hook. Maybe there was something to her, she didn't just stand up, but managed to roll away, from the follow-up hook. Alana regrouped and slapped herself over the cheek, repelling the whip back in position and smiling at Kethara. But this time like a predator. She licked her lips and retreated for a step only to use the whip again, and wrap the girl's ankle with it. Yanking her on the floor.

One man in the crowd was quiet this whole time. Gaston's eyebrow rose in surprise when he saw the young girl masterfully dodge the second hit. She was promising and cute, and that attire of her. Gaston smiled. He could definitely entertain a lot of people when he has a girl in attire like this by his side. He would just need to figure out what did she want. Wizard, could it be that old pervert on the council, who was bragging this very morning about the new spell?

Alana didn't just have years of experience. She had pure strength and home advantage. She knew this arena very well, every piece of wood, which one was stable, and which shook. She moved masterfully, as she dragged the girl towards herself by the ankle, and then jumped on her. Her shins landed squarely on the girl's arms, Kethara's head was right in Alana's nether region. – "Caught you little mouse." – Alana said, and her arm dug into Kethara's hair, as an older woman pushed her head against the wooden floor.

"Get the chain ready, and let's get a girl hooked into a strappado." – Alana shouted and the room exploded, in cheers, applauds, promises to marry her, and sounds of some especially enthusiastic adventurers smashing their pint glasses against the floor. – "We are going to tie you up, and hook you to the ceiling." – Alana said in a tipsy voice, while people jumped over the arena's border and approached the pair, grabbing Kethara by the hands and legs.

They manhandled her, twisting her arms, and legs as she fought against them, until they cuffed her hands behind her back, and then tied the cuffs to the chain, that was hooked to the ceiling. Somebody was attaching some weird types of tongues to her ankles, tongues that kept her legs spread apart. And of course, it wouldn't be Marburg if few of the people didn't start to grope her.

There were arms everywhere. Between her buttocks, a finger was already trying to push into her cunt while somebody pulled her bra up and started to fondle her breasts. Soon girl was tied securely in strappado position, and Alana was standing right in front of her.

 

[Fetterette]

Kethara feels a surge of satisfaction and pride, despite the pain to her chest, when she successfully dodges the next attack and rolls away. She comes up out of the roll into a crouch, spinning to face back toward the other woman. So what if the warrior woman has a weapon, and actual armor. Who cares if she is bigger and stronger and obviously more experienced?

The crouching, half-naked girl quickly shakes her head to clear it of such thoughts. Down that path only despair and defeat lie. She needs to live in the moment and focus only on the situation in front of her.

When the other woman's whip arm comes up again, Kethara immediately dodges to the right, expecting another snatching of her wrist. Unfortunately, her wrist was not the target. The coiling leather snaps around her planted left ankle. Just as she pushes off with that foot, the whipwielder yanks back on in.

"Ooof!" Kethara comes down hard on her stomach, breasts and cheek bouncing off the floor. She flails, flipping herself over onto her back. She kicks at the whip with her free foot, then grunts as she is yanked across the floor closer to her attacker. The flimsy silk beneath her is yanked out of place, her bare bottom dragged across the floor.

Before she can recover enough to rise, the warrior woman lands on her. The greater bulk of body and armor press down onto her upper arms, pinning her to the floor of the arena. Once more, fingers are in her hair, gripping it and keeping her pressed down hard. She shakes slightly for only a moment, staring up helplessly at the other woman's armored crotch.

After her announcement and the cheers of the crowd, Kethara can only lay there and wonder what is about to happen. Strappado? She doesn't know that word, but she is becoming more and more familiar with chain in this awful place.

"Stop! Don't!" she cries out when those hands, so many hands, are on her body once more. "I'm an adventurer like you! Please don't!"

Kethara knows that there is nothing she can do to stop them from getting her into the chains, whatever form they will take. There are far too many of them, and they are all working with a singular purpose. She knows that there is absolutely no way that she will be able to stop them from achieving the goal that they are so happy to pursue.

But, after the day she has gone through, there is just no way she can simply sit back and let them do their work. Instead of trying to escape, she simply turns her attention to hurting them. Their greater numbers and strength make them over-confident, she quickly discovers.

When the woman slides away to let a man pull her up by her hair, Kethara comes up quickly and hisses with satisfaction as she buries her knee in his crotch. Another grabs her shoulder, pulling. She spins in the same direction as his rough grab, launching her elbow into his throat.

It is not long before they get control of her, however. Squirm and twist and fight as she might, their greater strength is too much. She cries out when the heavy shackles close on her wrists behind her. Her kicking is brought to an end by the closing of the strange things on her ankles, the bar between them keeping her legs spread.

Kithara glares angrily at the woman standing before, the one responsible for this new situation. She stands defiant, trying to ignore the hands that move still on her body. She will face whatever they plan for her with as much dignity as she can muster.

It does not take long for her to discover exactly what that is. She cries out in surprise, unable to hide her fear, when the chain behind her begins to rise, taking her cuffed wrists with it.

The upward draw forces her to bend forward at the waist, arms lifting up higher and higher behind her. When it finally stops, she is trapped in the bent position. She immediately feels the tension in her shoulders and the backs of her legs.

As if the discomfort of the position were not enough, the rough hands of the surrounding adventures go to work on her trapped body. She can do nothing to resist as her top is moved aside to give them access to her breasts.

“Why?” She cannot hide the pain and betrayal from her features as she struggles to lift her head enough to see the woman. “I did noth-unnghhh.”

Her words are cut off by the rough entry of a finger between her nether lips. At the same time, a warm mouth envelopes the center of her left breast, teeth biting down in her nipple.

 

[Dr Bellwright]

Alana looked at her handy work, and the question popped in her head – are you proud of yourself? You trapped a silly girl who didn't know how to dress and let her get surrounded by dozen men. They will fuck her to death. There are three dozen of them.

Guilt sparked in Alana's chest, guilt for the fact that she overreacted at girl's attire, and gilt for the fact that she could feel her cunt aching, at the thought of seeing this poor girl getting pounded for hours, and getting in on the action. No, I need to save her. – Warrioress thought to herself, and before the plan manifested in her consciousness, she could hear her whip – CRACK – and then Alana heard herself speak, thinking on the feet and improvising. – "She is mine."

The statement evoked shouts of discontent, boos, some people swore at Alana. Another "CRACK" of the whip. – "But I will share her." – And the hall exploded "YEAH", "FUCK YEAH", and alike.

CRACK – another masterful motion with her whip – "Now! Outside of the ring, and we shall see who gets to ride this undecided girl." – As she talked, she walked towards Kethara, and shoved her fingers into her mouth. Knowing that she would try to cry, or plea, or spew out more excuses. – "Be strong" – Alana whispered loudly to the girl from a side of her mouth – "Don't do stupid things, and everything can be under control." – Alana continued.

By now Alana was quite proud of herself. Moments ago, the girl was dead. Fucked by dozens of men, until she couldn't breathe anymore. But now she would just have a very unpleasant evening, or maybe pleasant. Alana wasn't sure what is she into. More importantly, Alana might get to play with a girl too. She looked at Kethara one more time, she moved nicely didn't she? – Kethara thought, – "Might even take you as my protege, if you show a character tonight." – Warrioress said to her and turned the attention back to the crowd, without waiting for a reaction.

"Alright, you fucking perverts. A girl is tied and ready." – Alana walked around the girl and slapped her across the buttock, and then pulled her bottom down, letting white silk drop on the floor…again. Another slap, as Alana kept walking around, and pulled out her knife from the boot – "So, we shall start an auction, who would pay more to take this girl first?" – She put her hand up – "And before anyone starts complaining, I take two thirds as a huntress of this particular prey." – Another loud spank.

Men and some women started to shout numbers excitedly, but Alana cracked the whip again. She will take care of the girl. – "But the girl decides where you cum." – She said, and looked at her with a wink as if they were allies. She was very proud of herself.

"Do I hear three crowns?" – Alana announced like she imagined auctioneers would – "Yes. Bron, three crowns from Bron, do I hear six crowns?" – "Yes. Bron, six crowns, I don't think you have to compete with yourself."

Bron, who Kethara couldn't see at the moment was betting without any competition. Which if she paid attention would have to make her curious, because the bunch here didn't look like they were afraid of competition.

"6 crowns and Bron wins" – Alana announced, and a few seconds later sound of heavy steps followed. – "I am Bron." – Kethara would hear a deep voice behind her, and then feel two abnormally large hands land on her sides. – "Where does the bitch want me to come, she should say now, or I won't control myself." – large orc asked from behind. And even Alana swallowed.