Short musing

It’s not the leash. It is everything around the leash.

The rules, the disinterest, the humiliation.

I’m not to be on furniture,

I’m not to stand
Always on my knees and hands.

No speaking until I’m spoke to, but I can bark if I need somthing.

Not allowed to use the bathroom, must go outside.

I’m not allowed to eat or drink anything not from my bowls.

It calls to me, dear god to be a doggie
No a good doggie

My Captor part 1 [mf] [oral] [rape] [violent]

My captor.
I used to live in a sun drenched village near the coast. I would take walks on the beach and wonder through the woods. I enjoyed my life, some of the elders though I enjoyed it to much on account of my size. I’m not fat but I am plump, I love food and my father made sure I never wanted for it. He was a banker in our town and a well-respected one at that. Most men in the village didn’t mind my extra padding anyway as it gave me some of the biggest breasts in the town. Those that did mind kept it to themselves especially when I would sing in the church choir. They would stand in awe watching me belting out those notes that seam to come so hard to all the other girls. My life was good, sweet wine, delicious meat and pastries and not nearly a care in the world. Until that cold morning when the ships came.
I had awoken early and headed to the forest to pick some mushrooms, I dressed in my best wool and fur cloak to stave off the cold and headed out before the sun. Hours passed and with my basket filed I carefully strode down the hill to the town’s main road when suddenly a foul smell washed over me filling my nostrils and jerking my head upward to investigate. My gaze fixed on the many columns of black smoke lazily wafting from the village. The church spire and clock tower, the only two landmarks you can see from this far out were both wrapped in bright orange flames that reached ever skyward. The cross, built of ancient iron banded logs started to lean in the blaze and tumbled down followed by a clap and crack, audible even this far away.
A million thoughts scream through my head, and I start to run. I stumble falling a few times the mud staining my dress and cloak, but I clamber to my feet and keep going as fast as the boots and dress will allow me. When I reach the archway marking the entrance to our town I freeze and wretch, sheer terror gripping me. From the arch way swaying with the early morning breeze are four men hanging by their necks, their bodies feathered with arrows. With my gaze fixed upon the ghastly sight I don’t notice them or even hear them, I am thrown down into the mud, a gigantic fist crashes into my right eye and the word blackens.
I have no idea how long I was unconscious; I awaken in the city center hands bound and the same rough rope looped around my neck. I look up the sky through my one eye that will open but with all the smoke It could be evening. I quickly turn to look around and the motion makes me sick to my stomach, once my faculties returned, I slowly panned to see look at these devils who had sacked my village. Many blood covered, drunk and laughing men crowded the square. They where tall with long hair and beards they wore mismatched armor and carried axes and swords. One man with a long greying beard was pissing onto a pile of corpses he laughed, and his fellow barbarians howled along. Several nuns from the local cloister were pulled across a low stone wall with their habits pulled up the heathens defiling them and cheering. I was surrounded by sacrilege and rape, they killed my fellow captives for sport, crushing a man’s arm while forcing his wife to suck on their cocks.
I began to cry, I tried to stay quiet, my head throbbed, and the smell of shit death and fire penetrated my every sense. I haven’t seen my father maybe he escaped, just as the though enters my head a lard hand pulls me backward. It is the man with the greying beard, the one who poised on the pile of dead. His cock still in his hand he pushes it to my lips rubs the placid member on my face drops of the foul liquid still hot as then trail across me skin. He shouts something in a language I don’t understand but I keep my lips sealed tight. His large calloused hand cuffs me, I see stars again, but I keep my lips pressed together then he slapped me again quickly fallowed by the back of his hand. My lip is split and blood now trailing down my face mixing with my tears and the traces of the elder devil’s pee. I am full on sobbing now and I desperately try to keep my mouth closed but suddenly I see the knife. The large recently used blade flashes bright reflecting the billowing flames from across the square. He can see that I have seen the blade and presses the point to my cheek under my good eye and repeats his unknowable command as he pulls the point slowly away from my face a new drop of blood falling from the cruel metal. I slowly open my mouth sobbing renewed, my hand violently shakes and my head spins. The greying man smiles and begins to stroke himself hardening his cock near my parted lips while taunting me in the foreign tongue and laughing. He presses his massive head past my lips and taps my cheek lightly with the blade. I close my lips around him, and he seems pleased that I discerned his command. He begins to thrust his rank dick back and forth hitting the back of my mouth. He sticks out his tongue and flicks it at me and again yells, I start to swirl my tongue around the veiny shaft as he fucks my mouth in response, he pats my head and laughs. A course of laughs erupts behind him and I realize that 4 or 5 other raiders have been watching us this entire time, not only that but many bound townsfolk also gawk in shame and horror. Some I recognize, my neighbor vomits while she watches my mouth bulge full of his brutal cock, and the backer’s prentice, whom I always though would make a fine husband looks away disgusted. I feel hollow, lower than low being mouth rapped in the middle of town by filthy barbarians I didn’t think I could feel worse and then the old raider grunted, and hot salty stingy ropes filled my mouth.
No, God no. he filled my mouth with his seed. The taste was terrible, and my mind shuttered I began to gag. My breakfast of berries was going to come up but as soon as I started to gag, he pulled his invading cock from my mouth and covered it with his blood cover hand. He yelled again and made an exaggerated swallowing gulp then flashed the knife uncaringly between our faces. I knew that if I vomited and spilled the rancid cum it would mean my life and after great effort and a few barking yells from the graybeard I calmed my stomach and swallowed the swirling hot slime.
He let me fall to the mud with a thud and threw his head back to laugh again. I barely heard him I was so overwhelmed I just curled up in the mud and shook trying to wake from the nightmare. Suddenly a blow to my back knocked me forward and out of my mind shredding desperation, it appears my captors where not finished with me. Three had surrounded me and with the encouragement of “greybeard” they pulled me to my feet and began to beat me. Fists, open hands and a few kicks cover my body. My breast absorbed many blows sending ripples of pain flooding though me the pain rooting deep in m. I once again though this couldn’t get worse and then a purposeful kick landed squarely on my sex the wail it produced from my mouth was inhuman. The dull thuds of the powerful hands and sharp stinging enveloped me, it was all I could do to keep my lungs full of air as my entire body became one awful bruised mound. At some point I must have lost consciousness but when I awoke there was a tall man standing above me. In each hand he held an axe and I could tell from his standing that he meant to use them. In my state not only could I not resist him, but I looked forward to the relief I’m sure the blow would bring my throbbing body and reeling mind. I shut my eyes and awaited the end, after a few long moments I opened them again to see his still in his position, but he was facing away from me. In the invaders language he shouted again and again making broad gesture with his axes, my vision cleared a bit more and I could see my four attackers standing just beyond his reach.
Was this man rescuing me? No, it couldn’t be; I don’t recognize him, he knows the language he must be one of these demons. Then hope stirs in me perhaps this man is a traveler a knight or warrior that will save us all. To my renewed horror one of the four men puts down his drawn sword and laughs followed by the other and only by one they pass the now relaxed man patting his shoulders and laughing like my defender was their oldest friend. As they walk past us “grey beard” looks at me and tauntingly waves his hand and blows me a kiss.
My defender then turns to me and lifts me by my bound arms setting me on to a mud and blood covered wall. He brushed me off and smiles, he wears beads in his hair and beard, his head is shaved on the sides, but it is very long and pulled back the brown and red mix of his beard hangs to his chest. His arms are covered in rune tattoos and something resembling a compass rose decorates the left side of his shaved head.
“C…CUN YYYOoo, hmmm, CUN YOU VALK?” He says slowly as if he is trying to remember how to say the words.
After a minute I realize his is asking me if I can walk, and I open my mouth to reply and blood leaks from my lip.
“I, Do, do not thinks so …my lord?” I am finally able to stammer.
He considers what I have said chewing my words and nodding.
“I NO LOORD. YOU MUCK VALK OR UTTERS VILL KILL YOU”
I nod and take a deep breath and start to lurch forward from the wall. I take a step, then another my word is spinning but I keep walking forward, guided by his firm hand on the rope connecting my arms and neck. Another step forward and my leg spasms, I tumble to the ground but am quickly pulled upward by the bounds. At first, I am grateful but them a firm smack lands on my already bruised cheek.
“STAY UUP”
Is all he says and with a tug he is pulling me forward again. My painful march resumes with renewed anguish and hopelessness I am suddenly aware that we are on the beach. We approach a long ship just beginning to be lifted by the incoming tide. The other armored men are heaving chests and valuables onto the boat, but it appears I’m the only captive. My stomach again flips as my feet leave the earth; I am then handed to another large man on the ship. The new man holds me in place until the brown-haired man clambers onto the ship and grabs my binding again. He pulls me to a mast and sits me down on the cold desk, then he ties my rope to another rope the mast and leaves me alone but surrounded my strangers and killers, all laughing and stowing treasure.
After a few minutes the ship begins to roll and looking over my shoulder I notice the land is getting further and further away. I begin weeping until I can no longer see my homeland then slip into a pain filled unsteady sleep.