[ jeshire + Methos ]

[jeshire]

To think; less than seven hours ago, Helena had been resting at home, watching over her younger siblings without having to worry much about anything. The town she lived in was peaceful and content with its self-sufficient population. Everyone had a duty, and almost any need could be filled without having to travel beyond the woods or river that bordered the village. To say it was picturesque would be cliche -- but that was precisely what it was... or, had been until recently. As she dodged between trees and bushes, eyes wildly alert for stray branches or roots that might trip her, Helena bitterly recalled the sight of her town in ruins, its buildings burning and its people helpless against those that enslaved or killed them. Why couldn't have the invading troupe tried to trade the precious gems supposedly laying beneath the town in exchange for safety? She quickly blinked away fresh tears as she realized that a blurred vision was one of the many things she didn't need right now.

A painful stitch in her side made running difficult, and had been making her gradually slow down over the past twenty minutes. The blonde was utterly exhausted and her legs burned something fierce, lacking both oxygen and energy... but she couldn't stop now. Someone (she wasn't sure who; Helena avoided looking back at all costs) was trailing her close behind. There was no telling what would happen to her once - no, no - when she was caught. Gulping for another breath of air, the slender woman gathered any remaining energy she had and started to sprint in hopes she could lose her hunter between the trees.

Unfortunately, she made the mistake of upper her pace at the wrong time. A stagnant pond nearby had saturated the ground with water, making it soft and slippery, even with the grass and ferns growing on top. Her foot slid on a patch of moss; shortly, her previously steady stride faltered and became unbalanced. Still going full speed ahead, Helena toppled to the ground, hitting a harder section of soil solidly. Her heart jumped and froze in her throat as she crashed against the ground; a strangle cry surfaced from her when she immediately struggled to jump to her feet and take off again, but all the energy had left her body. She made it three steps before collapsing against a tree, quietly sobbing as she fought her way around it in pitiful attempts to find shelter. How long would it take for whoever it was to find her? At this rate, not long at all.

 

[Methos]

Raiding filled Ulric’s heart with joy. Something about taking to sea with his warriors and appearing upon an unsuspecting village and then wrecking havoc and slaughter upon it filled him with joy. It fired the blood, passed the time in otherwise rather sleepy falls and brought wealth into his coffers and enriched his followers. At the moment the young warlord was entirely in his element. His ships had sailed up the river from the sea to the village, its inhabitants had been caught entirely unaware. Thus when they stormed the village there had been little warning and the response was chaotic and unprepared. Resistance had been brief, being viciously and violently suppressed. Thus slaves had been plentiful for the taking.

Ulric had spied one blonde woman seeking to flee the village. His dark eyes had fixed upon her and he’d rather confidently declared her his. Thus with his bloodied sword in hand he’d pursued her. His towering form stalking after her rather swiftly as the woman had fled to the forest beyond the village. In her haste the woman was leaving a rather clear trail for him to follow and he’d had little trouble following her into the wilderness.

Ahead of him he heard a cry, and irritation would flicker across his features as he thought another might have waylaid her in his stead. The towering warrior strode after the woman and soon as he emerged from a stand of trees he’d see her collapsed form where she’d leaned against a tree sobbing. Impassively he stalked over towards her and his brawny form would loom over her.

The point of his sword as casually extended to her and the side of the blade would tap against her side. He remarked rather matter of factly. “Get up girl. Don’t try and run away, as I’ll only catch you and beat you for the attempt. I am Ulric. You are my slave now.” He related this while the brawny dark haired warrior hovered over her. He was a tall man well over six feet in height, with broad shoulders and a muscular form that was now garbed in chainmail. A shield was held in one hand and his sword in the other, while a helm rested upon his head covering flowing locks of black hair. Dark eyes lingered upon her form as he stated “Now get up” in a rather commanding fashion.

 

[jeshire]

The sobs stuck in her throat, choking her when she realized with a soul-deep horror that her hunter had made it into the little clearing. She could hear his heavy footfalls behind her; the sound alone was enough to make her stomach clench sickly. Very slowly, Helena turned her back on the tree to look upon the goliath of a man and almost fainted right then. Despite the fact she was a naturally charming looking woman, her face was whiter than a dove, tear stained and contorted in a mix of pure terror and panic. Tears continue to stream down her cheeks as she looked up at the man, her hazel eyes red and wide. To say she trembled was a bit of an understatement; before the warrior, she practically vibrated.

Though the movement was easy and non-threatening, Helena harshly recoiled from the blade, pulling herself into a tight ball before her face resurfaced after a moment. She looked utterly pitiable. The thought of making another attempt to escape passed her mind, but when he confronted it with the promise of a beating, the girl quite quickly let that idea go. She was tiny compared to him, especially balled up as she was; her body was on the smaller side, despite having slender, longer legs that hadn't gotten her far enough from the village.

She gave a solitary cry at his command and trembled deeply, moving with every bit of reluctance, fear and exhaustion working against her. Biting her lip to keep from dissolving into sobs again, Helena gradually worked herself to her knees and started to stand, but her legs gave in beneath her. She swiftly tumbled to the ground again, her dirtied hair partially covering her face; immediately, the woman recoiled and curled up again, burying her face into her arms as she cried and hiccuped, fearful what he would do to her if she couldn't get up. Now that the chase had ended, her body didn't want to cooperate. The second try moments later was minutely more successful as she got one knee up before sitting back on her heels. "I-I c-can't stand," she stuttered softly, terrified eyes turning upward.

 

[Methos]

Ulric eyed the woman as he saw her sobbing as she looked at him. There was something pitiable about the manner in which tears streamed down her face and her body shook with pure, unadulterated terror. His hard brown eyes lingered on that trembling form, sliding over her as she looked up at him. A smirk graced his lips as his eyes trailed over her, rather clearly undressing her with his gaze. He had followed her because she’d seemed a rather pretty wench. A closer inspection of her form only seemed to confirm the same with long legs, and a shapely form putting rather indecent thoughts into his head.

He watched as the woman cringed away from the sword in his hand. Although the woman had had spirit enough to flee it would seem that her resistance was now at an end. She had attempted to stagger to her feet and then collapsed, some combination of exhaustion and fear had seemed to sap whatever strength the woman had. The raider looked at her for a moment as though annoyed at the woman’s laying helplessly on the ground “They’ll be plenty of time for you to be on your back as my slave. But for now I suppose I shall have to bloody well carry you if you can’t get to your feet.”

While a hot-blooded warrior, he was an eminently practical man. The woman looks too weak and helpless for this to possibly be some manner of trick. Hence he sheathed his sword and slung his shield across his back. He leaned in towards Helena and his rather strong hands would close upon her form as he’d hoist her up from the ground and then sling her across his shoulder with her form bent across it as though she were a sack of grain or some other burden.

Having hoisted the lithe woman up onto his shoulder, his hand would casually grope her bottom as it protruded out into the night air. His fingers greedily pressing into that pleasingly rounded form. With rather apparent ease he’d carry her through the forest and back towards the town she’d rand away from. As he carried her he remarked “And what are you called girl?” After all he was going to need a name to distinguish her from other slaves.

 

[jeshire]

The poor girl shuddered deeply, turning her reddened eyes quickly away from him; she recognized his blatant gaze as it skimmed over her body and whimpered, giving a half-hearted attempt at baring herself with her arms. The exertion of running made parts of her dress wet with perspiration, which in turn clung to her curves more temptingly than they had before. "There'll be plenty of time for you to be on your back as my slave." Another shiver ran across her skin, realizing one of the deciding factors for running from the git-go was true. The thought of being a pleasure slave to who she could only imagine was a cruel master made her stomach twist sickly.

She remained trembling on the ground before him until he reached for her; though she recoiled initially, Helena was too exhausted to be anything but compliant when he took her in arm and slung her over his shoulder. After landing with a muffled grunt, the woman gave a whimpering sigh and tiredly wiped at her face. Her legs hung mostly limp, her stomach folded directly over his shoulder while she kept her hands braced against his sides to keep her head from banging against his shield; the position was entirely uncomfortable, but she had worse things to concern herself with. Despite the copious tears moments before, Helena had settled considerably. After all, there was no point in crying when there was nothing she could do to help her situation.

Her stomach churned more violently as he fondled her, the strength of his hand against her rear making her tremble unpleasantly. Beneath her dress, her back side was a fine mix of firm and soft and almost perky under his fingers. Her muscle twitched lightly underhand. Helena pressed her lips together tightly, staring blearily at the path he left behind him as the raider carried his prize back to town. "He--helena," she mumbled, fingers curling into the fabric of his side. The closer they came to town, the more they could her the raucous noises the rest of his men made; apparently, they were having their fun, too.

 

[Methos]

Ulric carried the woman towards the town, and he seemed to find her weight negligible for she hardly slowed his step at all. His hand wouldn’t cease its roaming over the curvature of her ass. The cling of her dress and the shapely nature of that firm ass beneath the sweat soaked garment caused his attentions to linger upon it. His strong fingers would dig into the fleshy swell of her ass rather lasciviously.

He seemed to amuse himself as he moved through the forest by groping her. Although no relief was likely to occur to the woman as the forest would leave them behind and the town’s environs were about them. The male populace was dead or in chains, while the invaders had gotten into the beer, wine and spirits that the town had to offer and began to drink rather heavily. Although if only they were drinking it would be a touch less discouraging for Helena as she was carried into town. But various women could be seen in various stages of being debauched. The women’s clothing had been stripped away and their bodies being rather forcibly used to the sound of their protests and screams.

He carried her into the town and then afterwards into the empty kitchen of one of the town’s many houses. He pushed through the door and then dropped her down to sprawl across the table. He stood behind her, and the stiffened form of his cock would brush against the curve of her ass. His hips pressed up against her form, as his hand fondled her and then sought to drag her dress upwards to bear her lower body. Ulric leaned in towards the woman as he remarked “Now Helena, as I see it as my slave you have only two real options hmm? You resist and anger me and you get beaten repeatedly. Or you seek to please me and hope to be treated more kindly.” He smirked as he remarked “I leave it to you to decide how you wish to meet your fate.”

 

[jeshire]

While his groping seemed to bother her less as he moved through the town, her sights she saw were far more concerning. So many people she knew were dead or enslaved, like her, some earning terrible beatings for the slightest show of hesitation in fulfilling an order. Women were being raped openly, screaming until their new masters silenced them in whatever way they saw fit. Though Ulric had yet to harm her, Helena was terrified that she, too, might find a sorry future in store if she was less careful than her family and friends. She trembled fiercely atop his shoulder, gripping tighter and tighter at his clothes with every step; yet she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of shedding tears.... yet.

Her heart thundered wildly in her chest as they passed beyond a doorway. She knew without being told what would be expected of her next... after all, the blonde sickly acknowledged, would any cold-hearted man be able to resist the prospect of exerting his remaining adrenaline on some, sweet, young woman? Helena struggled to swallow the lump in her throat and yelped loudly as she hit the table. Instantly, she half curled, peering fearfully over her shoulder; the all-too-distinct shape of his erection made her squirm once as if she were going to scramble away before she went still, nervously licking her lips. Despite the vivid terror on her face and the deep-set fear in her eyes, her body was lovely, young, supple, and very likely quite delicious - all things a man like Ulric would surely appreciate.

After he spoke, she sat there in contemplation, weighing her choices with a heavy heart. Was giving in too cowardly? Giving up now would make her life easier than if she gave up later. There was no real award, save her petty pride, if she resisted. It took a great deal of strength and courage for her to push up on her arms, her hips sweetly canted to the side as she pulled her legs towards her. Her gaze flittered up once to touch his before swiftly falling to the table she sat on. "H-how... may I please you, master?" Helena whispered. "Would you ... would you have me use my mouth? My breasts?" She indicated the later by parting the top of her dress, exposing the smooth flesh of one breast. Shifting a little and spreading her legs, she smoothed a hand against her slit before laying it on her abdomen. Despite her hesitance, it was obvious she had previously known a man - or several. "Or m-may I offer... this hole to puh-please you?"

(Sorry for the somewhat lengthy delay.)

 

[Methos]

Ulric had been rather direct in his intentions – the woman could do what he wished, or he could make her do what he wished. A rather limited set of choices for the woman truly, but she was indeed rather comely and he meant to have her, after all she was now his property. Helena had squirmed away from him and his hand moved as though preparing to strike her, but he soon simply smiled as the woman shifted to face him and inquired as to how she could best please him. Her body was proffered to him and he’d lean in towards her as he remarked “Ah not so stupid as to fight me – you’ll do well girl.”

As she thrust her chest towards him, his hand reached towards her breast. His fingers would rather firmly close around one of those lush mounds. His digits dug into and squeezed it as he leaned in towards her. “Oh you’ll get a chance to use all your charms my pet.” His other hand let his fingers brush against her cheek and then stray through locks of her hair. “From your tight hole, to your chest, to your soft lips and your pretty little ass – they’re all mine now and I mean to enjoy all of you.”

His fingers tangled in her hair as he’d tilt her head up towards his own. Those bright blue eyes would stare at her, seeming to seek to impart her servitude upon her through force of his gaze. His hand strayed downwards to idly stroke against her cheek and thereafter to pat against it. “Since you are in such a cooperative mood though girl, use your mouth to pleasure me. Or at least that’s how you shall start to do so, I doubt I shall be content with simply having you once before the night is out.”