Ardurotica: (5) The Pillory

Ardurotica: (5) The Pillory

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Following her ordeal in the slave compound, Sindrah Greve faces another -- being secured in a pillory for the use and entertainment of all Wolfrune.


Following her ordeal in the slave compound, Sindrah Greve faces another -- being secured in a pillory for the use and entertainment of all Wolfrune.


Submitted: March 14, 2015

A A A | A A A


Submitted: March 14, 2015



ARDUROTICA%203.jpgSindrah was released from the wheel as soon as Prince Tycho made his exit from the slave compound. She stood there forlornly, shoulders slumped, arms draped over her breasts, thighs pressed together, as Chard directed the same guard who had presided over her washing to put her in the pillory. "Let people touch and use her as they will, but no harm must be done to her. She is the most valuable slave in Wolfrune, it seems." He looked enviously at Moran, who was tossing the coin pouch in a palm, listening to the chink-chink of the heavy gold talons it contained. The slavemaster's piggish eyes fastened on Sindrah. "Prince Greve's daughter. eh?" She shivered as he slowly looked her up and down. "Well, you're prettier than most, but ten gold talons? Five, at most."

"There is more involved than just her looks," said Moran, flatly, putting the coin pouch away.

"Aye," said Chard. "I heard." He shrugged beefy shoulders, and nodded to the guard. Sindrah wept inconsolably as a rope was put round her neck and the guard led her across the compound. The platforms were still filled with onlookers, and the volume of their chatter rose substantially. Some shouted at her, but the din was such that she could not make out more than snippets of words. She tried to ignore them, to shut them out. Her hope that the crowd's interest in her would wane after the spectacle surrounding the taking of her virginity had been a foolish one.

As they neared the heavy wooden gate of the compound, Sindrah felt the by-now-familiar surge of fear and panic and she began to shake, color draining from her face. Pillory. Public display. This lay in her immediate future. She dared not even think about what would come after. It wasn't just her pride that was being savaged, but her innate shyness. It felt like a million eyes were on her, and she just wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it and never come out. Men using her ass or mouth or pussy to sate their lust was bad enough, but that eventually came to an end. Not so the blood-curdling embarrassment of being naked and on display for all to see. It was the custom in the Eastland clanholds for slaves to be naked. Sometimes wealthy owners adorned their pets with shiny collars of brass or silver or gold, and armlets and anklets as well. Her own father had the slave girls in his garden draped with gossamer silks that concealed nothing.This knowledge did nothing but cause Sindrah to wonder if she would spend the rest of her life naked.

Just as they reached the gates Moran caught up with them. "A moment," he told the guard. It wasn't a request, and the guard stopped and nodded. Moran turned his keen gaze upon Sindrah. To her surprise, he looked concerned. "You have borne up well, better than most. What awaits you outside that gate will test your spirit. Remember it well when you once again meet Prince Tycho. I urge you to accept your fate. No one will save you from it now. Believe that when you are called upon to make a choice."

"What choice?" she asked, in a small voice.

"I do not say I know this with certitude, but i do know Tycho Bellam. I suspect he will want you to submit to him."

Sindrah's heart lurched. Submit to the man who had just raped her? "Never!" she gasped.

Moran took her by the arm and leaned in. "No longer think of yourself as a prince's daughter! You are a slave girl. You are intelligent. You have the face and the body that will give you power over men. Add your intelligence to that and you will make your new life much less unpleasant than it will be otherwise."

Sindrah stared at him as he spoke, horrified. "I-I won't. I can't be a slave!"

Moran would not relent. "Don't be silly," he chided. "You are naked with a rope round your neck. Anyone can do this to you..." and he pulled her arm away from her breasts and groped one of them. "Or this..." And he spun her around and spanked her ass so hard it left a pink hand print and wrenched a yelp from her lips. Several onlookers on the platform overhead laughed, watching her and Moran and hoping to see more. Moran turned her round to face him again. For a brief moment his expression actually softened as he saw the tears in her eyes. "Remember my words, girl," he said. "Heed them." He held onto her arm a little longer, and it seemed he wanted to say more. But then he let go of her and nodded curtly to the guard.

Another of Chard's minions opened one side of the heavy wooden gate, allowing the guard to take Sindrah through. Her hands were free, but the rope was knotted snugly under her chin, and she didn't even try to wrench it from the guard's grasp. If somehow she did manage to be free of him where would she run? Already a small crowd was gathering; some of those who had watched her rape from the platform and then seen her being taken out of the compound had hastened down to see her emerge. The guard led her along the wall to the southwest corner, where two lanes intersected. Here were two pillories. But Sindrah barely glanced at them, for there was also a gallows, two thick posts ten spans* high, with a stout crossbeam at the top. From this hung a corpse. By it's size she thought it had been a full-grown male, though in its state of decomposition she couldn't be sure. The was nothing left but bone and dead flesh, gray and shriveled. A solitary crekker, black as pitch, was perched on the crossbeam. It uttered a raucous squawk and flew away as the guard and Sindrah arrived, accompanied the crowd of twenty to thirty people.

"Fool slave attacked one of us a fortnight back," said the guard with a tilt of a head at the gallows while he pulled her up to the pillory, then circled around to the other side of it. "Left him out here as a warning to city slaves or owned ones." He grabbed her by the hair and with golden tresses in one hand and rope in the other pulled her head down until her neck rested into a half-moon slot in the pillory's lower board. He ordered her to put her wrists in smaller ones to either side. She looked at him with sad and fearful eyes as she complied, knowing her wrists would be placed there even if she didn't do it, and the pain she would suffer would be pointless. He lowered the upper wooden board and secured it with a chain and rusty padlock then came around to her side and secured her ankles to the waist-high posts using buckle straps that were spiked to the pillory. Sindrah blushed beet red, bent over at the waist with legs wide apart, her pussy completely exposed.

The guard turned to the excited crowd and relayed Chard's instructions to them, adding certain details that made her groan in despair. "If you must strike her it is with open hand only. You will force nothing inside her but cock, fingers or tongue. Do otherwise and you will answer to the slavemaster." He looked at Sindrah's ass and, smirking, gave it a hard slap, eliciting a cry from the helpess girl, before reaching over the pillory to gather up her hair and tie it to an iron stake driven into the top board so that her head was kept up. Sindrah was horrified. She was not just on display, but available for use by the entire city!

Her hair was tied so tightly to the stake that she could only turn her head slightly without hurting herself, and could see nothing behind her. So she only heard a scuffle that immediately broke out, one which the guard had to break up. "To the end of the line with the both of you!" he snarled. Sindrah moaned her despair. LINE? She felt rough hands roaming over her soft round ass cheeks, the presence of a cockhead gliding over her still-swollen folds, and closed her eyes, squeezing out some tears, an instant before whoever was first in line sheathed his cock inside her.

"Ahhhhhh!" he exclaimed blissfully, as Sindrah's pussy spasmed and gripped the cock that for a moment remained buried inside her. "Now that's a tight one!" Someone in the crowd laughed and responded with, "With so many volunteers back there wanting to stretch it, won't be tight for long!" This elicited some laughter from other men, some giggles and gasps from the women present. Sindrah's ass began to jiggle from the impact of the first man's hard flanks as he started thrusting.

She opened her eyes as a hand clamped round her lower jaw, thumb and forefinger pressing hard into her cheeks, prying her mouth open for another cock. She gagged on it, nose crinkling at the strong smell of this man's unwashed crotch. He kept plunging it down her throat, holding it, then pulling out, and before long translucent strings of saliva mixed with precum dangled from her chin. The festive crowd grew more vocal as she took cocks both front and back, especially when she began to make breathless squeals as the man fucking her pussy reached down and grabbed her wildly-swaying breasts, pinching and plucking her nipples until they hurt.

It was when the smelly man in front of her grabbed her face with his dirty hands and held his cock to the hilt inside her mouth while ejaculating that she began to feel the stirring of that tingling heat penetrating the dismal fog of shame. For a moment the man stood there, on the balls of his feet, body rigid and trembling, his cock flexing on her tongue, then slowly pulled out and clamped her jaws shut. She swallowed without a struggle. The man seemed surprised. He chuckled, then turned to address the crowd as he tucked his cock away and buttoned up. "Come, boys! This one is still thirsty!"

Several men jostled each other to get in line and as soon as the first had stepped away, the next one pinched Sindrah's nose, wagging his cock in front of her face. She immediately opened her mouth and began sucking on his rock-hard member. Whether she wanted to or not, whether she resisted or complied, one thing remained certain -- she would suck his cock, and any others put in her mouth this day. She chose the less painful path.

Some of the onlookers were shouting at her, calling her names that ranged from "worthless slut" to "good girl," or jeering as they asked how she liked this or that, and a few even congratulated her every time one of the men using her finished. She thought of her sister, grateful that Karissa had been saved from this fate and wasn't there to see what was being done to her. Still, she missed her sister terribly. She was so alone, so abandoned. A fresh batch of tears rinsed her cheeks.

She did not see the large, muscular man who stood in the crowd, towering a head over all those around him, arms crossed and watching grimly. He wore a brown kilt and a form-fitting cuirass of black hardened leather....

The man using her young pussy so enthusiastically gave a shout as his cock erupted, spewing cum inside her and intensifying that tingling heat radiating through her. When a second man introduced his long cock into her stretched, dripping pussy she was quivering as those sensations became too exquisite to ignore. As had been the case when Tycho raped her in the compound, she was astonished that she could have these feelings while under such duress -- astonished and ashamed. Her muffled moans were drowned out by the noise of the onlookers, the slapping of skin against skin, the grunts and groans of the men using her, but primarily by the cock stuffed in her mouth. With growing dismay she found she could not ignore her body, could not stop the waves of shameful pleasure now flowing through her.

The cock was slamming into her so rapidly and violently that it jolted her. Her shoulders became sore from colliding with the pillory, but then that hot pleasure within her exploded into something that so consumed her she forgot about the soreness, the humiliation, the crowd, the future. She shuddered and squirmed and her pussy clenched and drenched the man's cock and her loud, guttural cries rang out because just as the orgasm gripped her the man using her mouth pulled out and shot arcing ropes of cum all over her face. A few heartbeats later the other man was overcome as Sindrah's spasming cunt milked his balls dry.

The crowd roared its approbation at this spectacle. The man who had covered her face with his cum lingered, admiring his handiwork, until he was knocked to one side, replaced by three lads no older than Sindrah herself, all with their cocks out. They commenced to take turns fucking her mouth, much to the amusement of the crowd. There was a wager involved -- who would be the last to cum -- and they traded raunchy, good-natured insults while Sindrah sucked and slurped and drooled. She felt a third cock inside her pussy, but only for a few strokes, and then she squealed hoarsely as it was shoved slowly, relentlessly, into her ass. By the time the trio had cum in her mouth -- none of them lasted long -- the man behind her was giving her his entire length, hard and fast.


It was a half-shout, half-snarl, and so loud it seemed to resonate in Sindrah's very bones. The leering man about to take the place of the three lads suddenly stopped leering and began looking quite afraid as he stumbled back. A man loomed directly in front of her. It was the one in the black cuirass of hardened leather. He had a mane of black hair tinged with gray at the temples, a craggy, square-jawed face with a prominent scar across the chin, and eyes that looked like blue lightning as they fastened on the man who had been enjoying Sindrah's back passage, and who froze with his cock still buried halfway inside her as soon as those eyes locked onto him. "Back away," growled the man shielding Sindrah's head with his body. The other quickly complied and hurried off, fumbling to get his cock back in her pants before melting into the crowd, which was suddenly stock-still and silent.

The guard was backing away, too, his eyes darting from the bushkar, the broadsword common to the Eastland clans, that was belted to the interloper's side to the sign of two scarlet serpents entwined on the breast of the black cuirass. "Chard won't like this!" was all he could think to say.

"Chard." The man spat the name with great disdain. "Go tell your slavemaster that Endric, of the Knights Sinistra, will have words with him."

"But.., this was by order of Prince Tycho himself," said the guard.

Sindrah was gazing up at the man who stood before her, and saw that he was unfazed by this revelation."That doesn't surprise me," he muttered. He put thumb and forefinger in the corners of his mouth and produced a piercing whistle. Instantly two men emerged from the crowd, jostling the silent onlookers, and approached the pillory. One was dark and beefy, the other lanky and tow-headed. Both wore the black cuirass.

Endric worked gently at the knot of Sindrah's hair round the iron spike. Once he freed her from it, her head drooped, tears of relief leaking from her eyes. He sat on his heels and cupped her chin and lifted her head slightly, gazing into her face. Her own eyes were filled with gratitude as they locked onto his. She could not bear to look away, for in his eyes was nothing that frightened her, or promised her more pain and humiliation. There was only compassion in those eyes, and for a moment at least they were her sanctuary.

"Thank you," she whispered.

*A span is a common measurement of distance in Ardure; generally, the length of a grown man's forearm and hand, from elbow to fingertips and about a foot-and-a-half.

[to be continued]

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