00Cornered



Yannuck00CorneredAll day he’d been on the run. Through the forest .. catching his breath in caves .. the enemy were everywhere. Months ago they had swooped in from the north .. overwhelmed the land .. his family all slaughtered. Alone with his brave band of men he had kept up the fight. But the tyrant’s patience was spent. He’d thrown everything against them. The monster’s whole army flooded the forests. Soldiers on horseback racing them down. Dogs getting the scent .. drawing the marauding masses in their wake.Youngest son, at first barely skilled in the arts of warfare .. he had kept them in the hop .. for months. His image on every tree .. rewards promised for whoever gave him up. None had. His people loved him. In him rested their last hope. But the odds against them .. overwhelming .. Cornered .. run-down .. dogs .. all around .. snarled at their leash .. desperate to get at him. Soldiers surrounded him .. chased him down. Hot, sweaty .. looking like they needed some way to calm their blood .. What better than to cut to pieces this irritant .. feed the earth with his blood?Hopeless. Maybe thirty of the enemy against him .. armed .. bitter .. Dogs snarling .. foaming .. yanking at their handlers .. all it would take .. let them go .. an ignominious unsoldierly death. Out of sight .. who would ever know? His family’s last remaining heir .. ripped apart by the fangs of maddened dogs. His remains left as carrion in the forest.His young warrior’s heart beat within his chest. Fired up with their fight .. angered at getting run-down. He felt their eyes on him .. this enemy who hated his hide. Young-manly, strong. Muscled and defined. He’d done what duty had demanded of him .. harrying the enemy .. maybe done better that his best. But where did things go from here?Fall on his sword? Take his own life? But before he could win that honour, they’d be on him. Wrest that privilege from him. Injure him, wound him. They’d be ready for him doing the honourable thing ... deny him that honourable death. They’d take him. Badly wounded. Take him back to the oppressor, their lord. His toy, the enemy’s plaything. Weakened by injury. Easily bent to their will.What to do?1.Surrender with dignityCaption063500A dilemma. But he could see no way out of it.He was their prisoner. No way out of that.By the look of these troops .. listening to the snarls of their hounds .. they wanted nothing better than to see him dead.They’d not let him die by his own hand. Butchery. Slaughter .. that was closer to their mind.Tempting to foil them in that .. Seductive to thwart their desires. If there was some way to frustrate their greed.Rebellion lost .. but he was still prince to his people. He owed them help. By staying alive .. any way to come to their aid?∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ “You have fought well, rebel, I have to give you that …”Yannuck glared back, he had not been expecting to be recognised for his rank .. but he’d certainly not expected appreciation from the enemy either. Not from this officer seated on his mount. Both foaming with sweat and exertions .. from hunting him down.“You have led us a merry dance these months. Cost the king a small fortune to keep up an army. Just to hunt you down ..”The enemy officer was looking at Yannuck admiringly. Was this soldier-to-soldier talk? Able still to admire the enemy for his successes - despite all the defeats he had inflicted?“Kept us on our toes all right. Kept us on the run.”Yannuck was confused by the almost-merriment in this officer’s tone.“But now it is over .. You have to see that .. ”Yannuck stole a quick glance at the numbers. There must have been thirty of them. Thirty armed soldiers against only him. He’d been on the run all day. Ambushed. No idea what had happened to the others. Running and hiding in the forest. Running for his life. They’d been everywhere. And not once had he come across one of his own.“We’ve got most of them …”Yannuck pricked his ears at the words. Those who didn’t fall to the sword, he suspected. And he knew many would just be cut down.“You, though .. “ Was that a wink of appreciation? “ .. you took some tracking down .. kept us at it all day .. you devil you .. ”The jokiness in the enemy officer’s voice was throwing him. This admiration for the effort he had cost them .. unexpected.“But .. you can see it, can’t you? You’ve lost ..”Not a friend in sight. Thirty armed men against his sword arm.“But it was hell of a fight .. You gave us that .. For months .. you’ve been running us ragged ..” His glance took in the men surrounding their prey .. hot and exhausted .. Glad the hunt was done .. they’d cut his legs from under him if he made a move to start running again.“Quite the goose chase .. I have to give you that ..”They’d got him cornered. No way to fight his way out. And this tone of admiration was throwing his thinking. This unexpected appreciation from a deadly foe for the successes he had wrought. Keeping a vastly superior army on the run. For months. Winning many victories, inflicting hurting defeats. And yet still this enemy officer could admire the efforts. Soldier admiring soldierly effort? Was this how this tone was going?“Put down your sword. You cannot win.”Only hours ago he would have cussed to hell any of his own who even suggested that. Surrender. The last thing he would have contemplated. But this tone from the admiring officer .. this inevitability of capture .. the loss of his men ..He could not hand over his sword, He would not do that. He could not submit. But he jabbed the end into the earth, he stepped away. He had rendered himself defenceless. He had not surrendered. Let them take them - at their will.He saw the enemy officer shrug. Good enough for him.“He’s yours, men …”Yannuck was shocked by the sharp change of tone. Surprised when troops rushed forward and grabbed his arms. From admiration to being beaten to the earth .. in an instant. He resisted, he fought them back. He got in a few good blows. But in no time he was shaking his head to clear it from the blows to his skull, he was down on his knees. Held tight by a pair of hulking bloody-minded soldiers. A fist broke hard across his mouth.From above him on his horse the enemy officer looked down on him.“As an officer .. I can admire your zeal. I can appreciate your skills. But these men …”The enemy officer’s eyes glanced around the mass of hungry-minded soldiers.“Lost friends. Brothers murdered alongside them in battle. Haven’t seen their families in months.”Yannuck struggled in the grips that had him tight by the arms. He tried to rise to his feet. A kick in the backbone said, NO. A bot in the guts underlined it.“Admire your zeal? Appreciate your skills? This lot? Don’t make me laugh ..”Yannuck looked them over, these soldiers he had waged war against. No appreciation from them for his successes. No admiration for what he had achieved .. fighting against overwhelming odds .. keeping them locked down had lost them friends .. cost them family. What they saw was some cocky young muscle-head .. born to privilege .. thought the word owed him respect. What he saw reflected back was hunger .. to prove he was wrong. A craving for revenge. For all they had lost.“You can have him …” the officer kindly told his men. They deserved a rewards for their efforts.“Just remember ..” he allowed their prisoner a re-assuring smile …” the king wants this fucker in one piece. His right to deal with him. To have this piece-of dogshit ripped apart …” He looked sternly at his men .. admonishing them to be careful.“ .. and you know what it means for any fucker who takes that away from his king …”His eyes tore back into Yannuck’s face. He smiled. It was more a gloat.“Other than that ...,” he concluded .. nodding knowingly first to his men .. then smirking into Yannuck’s scowling face … “ .. he’s yours ..”He offered his prisoner a final shrug. Like he was helpless to do anything elseHe turned to his men.“Do as you will …”2.TyrantOneFace-to-face with the enemy.CaptionRepeatedly beaten. Pride bruised and hurt.Hauled before the invader.To hear his fate.Seated in the throne-roomIn place of his father.Serviced by whoresLording it over him.It made his blood boilGone his anxietiesMade more determinedHe’d face down this e-what-may.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ “Make our guest comfortable.”Yannuck glared across his father’s throne room at the usurper. A table set up before the dais where his father had sat in dignity. The conquering usurper dug at the piles of food sprawled on the table before him while his soldiers secured their prisoner in place. A half-dozen barely dressed women pandering to his inflated needs.The fight-back, it seemed was over. His own fighters for freedom finally broken and defeated. Many slaughtered by this tyrant’s merciless troops. Those who managed onto hang on to their lives - he’d heard they were awaiting transportation to the mines. Their loyalty to him rewarded by a lifetime underground. Digging out the wealth to keep a smile on the face of this conqueror.They had been defeated, finally run-down, an overwhelming force thrown at them, run down like dogs. But he was not broken .. he’d taken their fists, their curses had burst on his back .. but facing them he refused to feel defeated. He was still the last remaining heir to his father’s throne. His fight-back had kept the people’s lives alive. And that duplicity at his capture .. it had just fired up his will. Like hell was he going to cringe before this usurper who had conquered his father’s throne.He glared back. Chest high, sucking in his belly to show the defiance of his strength. The chains on his wrists were being hauled over his head. A snap above caught his attention, he looked up. The chain was clamped onto a chain hanging down. Damn! He cursed himself. For getting distracted. His battle was with this usurper not with these chains. What happened within these bonds .. nothing he could do to stop that.“It seems he’s been in the wars ..”A chicken leg in his hand .. accepting the caress of a woman on his upper thigh. But his gaze had not once left the sight of the prisoner being secured .. for all the keen administrations of half-naked women vying for his attention. Yannuck felt that look sweep over his near-naked body .. like it was seeking out weakness .. or assessing the strength of will still lingering in his torso. After he’d had his men let loose on Yannuck. Punched and battered to convince him he was universally hated. From king down to foul-mouthed soldier.He had been na?ve, stupid. Duped by that enemy officer at his capture. Handed over to vengeful soldiers. They’d been stopped short of permanent injury .. but only just it felt. A lesson, though .. as if he hadn’t known it already .. artlessly he had let himself forget iy. This was scum he was dealing with here.Moments had been .. abandoned in the dungeons .. hurting and bruised .. the finger of despair had stroked down his backbone. Defeated .. let down his family .. his people thrown to the dogs of this conqueror. He had had to force himself out of that darkness. But here .. this sight of the oppressor thinking he could replace his father in this throne room .. it needed no effort of will. He’d stand up to this usurper. Call him for what he was. Bare breasts swirled into his vision as Yannuck glared back. The tyrant had whores clothed in short tunics, barely covering their backsides. Tops open down to their navels. Every movement to catch the tyrant’s attention offered young Yannuck a sight of naked breasts. A quick flash of pert nipples. Action down by his legs drew his attention back to the business-in-hand. Guards’ rough hands on his ankles. Roughly grabbing at his legs. Yannuck resisted the temptation to look down. He kept his glare fixed on his adversary. The monster who had killed most of his family lounging in his father’s throne room taking the attentions of his whores. Gnawing on a hunk of meat. “Wonder ..” the tyrant was moved by the prisoner’s impudent stare to taunt.“Wonder when this young fucker had a woman last ..? What d’you reckon, eh?”None of the women let off their efforts to please. They knew their opinion was not wanted.“When this prick last have a woman’s mouth on his cock?”Yannuck refused to be taunted. In dogged silence he kept staring back. Hands had grabbed at his ankles, pulling them apart. Spreading his feet around the base of the column and securing them, spreading his legs.“What you get, I suppose .. from going off .. getting yourself in the wars .. fighting battles you can’t win.”His gaze mockingly countered the anger from his prisoner’s stare. Futile, pointless anger .. the useless prick.“Probably got off with doing over some soldier.”The tyrant laughed out.“Do anything when you’re desperate. Eh, fuckhead?”The last remaining claimant. The youngest son of the dead king. At last .. caught .. rebellion done-with. Hands strung up above his head, backed up against a pillar in his father’s old throne room. Legs spread, tied hand and foot. At his enemy’s mercy. Doomed. Victory at last.“Nalana ..,” the usurper snapped out, he was addressing one of his whores. But he didn’t bother to look at her. Better to fix his gaze on the victory he had won .. the last living member of the royalty he had pushed aside. The whore meant nothing .. this victory pinned against the column was the day’sprize.“He’s good-looking, wouldn’t you say? He a stud?”Yannuck couldn’t make out which one of the women the monster was talking to. None broke off their administrations. Offering him titbits. Stroking his inner thigh.“Nalana, you brainless bitch .. I am talking to you!”His tone was harsh. Instantly Yannuck could see which one was Nalana, she trembled at the harshness of his voice.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ 0254000TwoHandsome young studCaptionHe turned on a pennyFrom joking to murderousIn the blink of an eyeIrascible, foul-tempered.He turned on the whoreFor no reasonTerror froze her to the spotFears shivered on bare fleshWatching the enemyMalicious, self-willed, irrational.And when he turned that evil eye .. ?On a prisoner that had humiliated,inflicted losses ..? given hope to the defeated ..?given just cause for anger ..?What then ..?∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ “Not a patch on you, my lord,” she quickly said.Somehow this Nalana seemed familiar to Yannuck but she quickly turned away. “Not as manly. It takes more than … that .. “ her hand flailed .. desperately dismissing the defenceless prisoner pinned against the column “ .. to be a man. Hardly a turn-on. Not like you.”Yannuck saw her breasts swaying inside her half-open top, her long hair swishing over her face. Turning her full attention on her pay-master .. on where things mattered. But she was shaking.There was a pause.“I keep you for a good fuck, cow. Not for flattery ..”Yannuck sensed the whole room shiver at the tyrant’s snarling response.“You want me to flay your back raw?”The growling monster paused .. to let his words sink in.“He good-looking or not?”The voice that came whispered from the drape of long hair trembled. And not in passion.“He is, my lord. My lord is right.”The usurper snorted. The bitch was telling him what he wanted to hear. Yannuck felt the look of the tyrant travel over him. Like the movement of a butcher’s sharp knife over a dead carcass. “Look-the-fuck at him, bitch!”Yannuck felt the whole room tremble. The other whores froze, the tyrant going irascible .. time to keep your head down.“What I see .. bitch. Good-looking. Muscled. Healthy. Fit. Is there any hot-blooded woman that could keep her hands off him ..?”No reply. Yannuck saw the whore huddled up, her head bent. No longer vying for her master’s attention. Fearing the worst. Dreading she had done something wrong. And any further word she might utter could be a disaster.Yannuck watched too .. out of curiosity .. how this brute could so suddenly turn. How his passions flattered by these women could flare up petulantly. And for no cause. If he could turn in an instant when in pleasure .. how fiercely could he turn in anger? On his enemy?“Well? Bitch?” There was no reply. Yannuck felt a sense of concern for her. Just a whore. Property of this monster. And her bad luck she had been singled out.“Can you keep your hands off him?”She was shivering. Frightened to put another foot wrong.“SHOW ME. BITCH!”The tyrant bawled it out. “Get you hands of this motherfucking dog. Give this cocksucker the time of his life.”Yannuck saw how she was shuddering. His heart went out to her. Feeling sorry for her. The poor woman. Trapped into this life. An object. Whose every duty was to try and please a monster’s fickle delights.“MOVE YOUR ASS. BITCH.”His words came out tinged with poison. Steel-hard. Pitiless.“Show me what this motherfucker has in him.”The girl sat. Frozen with fear. Surrounded by other whores who sat impassive. Motionless. Fearing any wrong move could bring a tyrant’s wrath crashing down on them.“Move-your-motherfucking-ass.”Spat out. Hissed. Laden with threat.She hadn’t moved. She couldn’t. Terrified. “GUARDS!”The tyrant screamed out.“Get her out of here. Whip her. Whip her motherfucking back raw .. till she can’t breathe.”Suddenly she was moving. Suddenly she had leapt up. She had rushed over to Yannuck. She had grabbed him by the hair. Forced his head up. And driven her mouth against his. Her tongue forced herself into his mouth, digging deep. Searching for his young-manly spirit. A hand was on his chest. A thumb found his nipple. Stroked it. Pawed it .. squeezed it .. in desperation. Proving her worth. Desperate to please ... Yannuck felt repulsed at her touch. She was terrified, he knew .. suddenly she had seen herself slipping precipitously on a downward slope. And she was having to claw her way back up. He didn’t matter .. his body was the way back. To stay in favour. She’d do whatever it took. To forestall anything worse. Anything to save her skin.He stiffened. A hand had jabbed in between his legs. Cupping his ballsack, a thumb reaching upward, stroking madly at his limp shaft. Palm around his ballsack. Twitchy fingers nervously working at him .. in panic. Digging in deep, crushing, crunching. A desperate pawing. The girl acting out of terror. Proving her worth. At any price. Desperate to please. Fearing the worst.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ -2857527051000ThreeBlood is upCaptionShe’d been set up.Singled-out.She was terrified.Poor girl would do anything ..Anything to avoid a tyrant’s wrath.He didn’t matter .. that was the point.She didn’t care .. his body was just the meansTo save her skin.To save her pain.To rub his nose in it.Once a prince .. now he was shit ..even for a self-serving whore.Useless .. no worth .. Even manly-hard .. his proud princely cock .. his young man’s worth.Worth? He was worth fuck-all …∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ He was full inside her mouth. She had wildly gone for him. Getting him hard in the fastest uncaring way .. in the fastest possible time. Desperation. Her duty was to please her lord .. and he wanted this prisoner shamed. It wouldn’t have taken him long but the wild way she had gone at his cock she had Yannuck thrusting full-out in no time. He’d realised, he did remember her. While she was frenetically working him up, Yannuck had glared back at the tyrant seated on his father’s throne. His only way of answering this monster back. This was all about putting him to shame. Making the deposed prince feel small. Rubbing his nose in the fact that he had lost everything. His family, his position, his wealth. Nothing was his any more .. his people succumbed, his armies subdued. He was nothing, he had nothing. Not even his cock was his to command.Nalana .. she’d worked as one of his sister’s chambermaids. For years she’d attended his sister in all sorts of ways. He’d not noticed how beautiful she had grown. Or how alluring her body was. It had taken a tyrant to trawl through the household and display her scantily dressed to make Yannuck see the woman under the chambermaid’s duties she had performed.“Best you can do, bitch?”The tyrant dismissed Nalana’s efforts with a harsh scorn. She had proudly leant to one side. Displaying Yannuck fully engorged. Showing off how she had got him manfully erect.“Get the fucker up ..”The way he snarled .. Yannuck saw the girl shiver.“All the way up. Wanna see him pointing straight up.”Yannuck squared his shoulders. He lifted his chest. He was supposed to feel humiliated .. used for display .. a show of his helplessness. Supposed to feel shamed? He did .. but like hell was this tyrant going to see it.He was being used .. an object .. for this monster’s sadistic amusement. That was supposed to get his blood up. Make him angry .. uselessly angry. That how he felt? He felt fucking furious .. but this brute would not read that off his features.He was supposed to get hard .. not because this Nalana was beautiful .. not responding to a gorgeous woman’s soft touch .. the deft flick of a tongue on the right spot. FUCK THAT! That was not how things were supposed to work here. He was being got hard for a tyrant’s plans.Yannuck was hard, that couldn’t be avoided. Mauled, slurped on .. desperation clawing at his tackle .. wild impassioned fear using him to claw her way back into some kind of favour. His body nothing to her .. nothing more than a means to stave off the sting of the soldier’s lash.Humiliated .. used .. demeaned .. all of that. But Yannuck steeled his resolve. Doing the only thing he could to fight back. Undermine this monster’s tricks. Rise above them. Not let himself get riled.Best way to show his defiance. He stared his brothers’ murderer back. Seated where he did not belong. Yannuck ignored the gloating smirk that returned his glare. This murderer wanted Yannuck shamed. That he was being made erect .. forced into it .. his helplessness on public display .. with this tyrant’s ingratiating whores sniggering at his powerlessness .. this was a battle of wills. However he felt .. deep-down .. Yannuck was showing nothing. Thwarting this monster’s stupid hopes .. foiling his little plan.Damn him, Yannuck thought. Damn these whores .. who are they? Why should he feel shamed? He had fought a brave fight .. he had run a dance around this tyrant’s men .. he had given his people hope. Now his luck had run out .. he had always feared it might. But he had not failed. Do what this monster might .. Yannuck had nothing to be ashamed of.She removed the braiding from her hair. She had it tied around him. Yannuck had not been able to avoid the twitches as the braids cut into sensitive skin .. cutting over the root of his solid shaft .. digging in. Cutting off the blood.He gave a tremor. Her crazed mouth enveloped him again. Ordered to get him pointing straight up. His cockhead scraped over the silkiness of her palate. Her sobs twitched around his burgeoning firmness as she slurped on him. Gasping for breath .. sobbing over his solidness. She was slavering .. in wild anxiety .. like some sick cow. Her tongue drooling at his trigger spot underneath. A rush of arousal shivered down his thighs. Yannuck felt the tremors. The unstoppable rush of excitement in his loins.A flush of exhilaration. A quiver of elation. THAT was it. He saw his way-out. He answered .. he shoved .. his hips drove like a maddened wildman forwards. He’d come .. right inside her slobbering mouth. He’d take control.Finished. That was to be the end of this tyrant’s games. Full of the excitement .. full of vengeance at this idea .. Yannuck thrust .. madly he pushed himself deeper inside her mouth. Going to foil this motherfucking tyrant. HE was going to shed his princely everything inside the poor girl’s mouth. Taking over control.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞3.HumiliationOneCount the cost08763000CaptionMagnanimity in victory?Appreciation for a fight well-played?Noble gestures .. gallant generosity?The enemy had fought well?Fuck that. Worth fuck-all.Weakness .. feeble-mindednessGenerosity sent the wrong signal.This rebel had defiedHad inspired, encouragedOthers had followed his leadCrush. HumiliateBreak. Shame into weeping.A debt to square.Costs to pay back.A king’s ransom to cough-up.And only one coin could count.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ Had she given him the idea? Her frantic tortured sobs? Tension prickling in the air. That Nalana who used to attend his sister? Had her playing games .. desperate to keep in with the tyrant who had power over her, life and death .. was that where his father’s murderer had got the idea? The monster was enjoying himself … two victims being tortured here.Putting them through hours of ritual humiliation .. the poor girl in fretful torment .. terrified that the brute was keeping her at this duress for so long .. one slight slip-up and she’d pay the price. Using her fears to torture Yannuck as a man .. doubling her struggles to claw her way back into favour .. to please her new master .. Smirking at Yannuck’s determination not to show himself belittled .. yet battling with her increasingly wild pains to save her skin .. Two victims .. slogging it out against each other .. the brute liked that idea.Or was the sick monster just out for revenge? Because Yannuck had thwarted his first efforts at making the prince feel small?Afterwards his guards had jostled and bundled him down into the dungeons. Alone, not another soul around .. not a sound of another breathing human being around .. totally isolated .. desolated .. abandoned to his dismay by living humankind.She was only a tyrant’s whore .. one of how many of his people pressed into flattering the monster’s ego between his legs? Ever terrified that a wrong move would see her man sent to the mines .. for her mouth on a tyrant’s cock failing to please. That brute had used her terrors on Yannuck. There was no way she would fail to please.Sniggering and smirking, the guards had watched as he struggled to free his aching manhood from Nalana’s tight braids. He’d tried not to wince. Determined not to show any weakness. But he had been put through hell .. to please Nalana’s new lord. Every touch on his pain-engorged cock was more torture. Nalana had taken his manhood to hell and back .. to please an insatiable master .. desperate to save her skin .. and Yannuck was paying for it again as he struggled with the tightness of her braids. Aching like hell to free himself from the eye-watering pains.They threw him a loincloth when he’d done the job. Laughed through his pained efforts to release himself. A piece of rag to cover his princely dignity .. wrapped coarse cloth around his hips .. before they slung him again in chains. His arms in manacles .. backed up against the wall. With some effort, Yannuck managed to settle his backside on the cold dank earth after the guards had left. Just .. it was a stretch .. arms pulled up tight by the shackles .. strains took up home in his upraised arms .. a grinding in his armpits .. coldness seeping into his bones up from his backside. Yannuck prayed that he might get some rest. He’d need it. The tyrant had declared his sentence. Enjoyed condemning him to death. But before .. Yannuck would rest .. build up his strength .. regain his strength of mind. To face his end with dignity and strength.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ His victory over the brute had been short-lived .. cuming in her mouth like that. How many times? How often had he made her do that to him? Mouthing him .. sucking him off .. his cockhead raving .. on fire .. bursting with need.Then .. at the last moment .. when he’d finally been going out of his mind .. she’d withdrawn. Warned under threat of a vicious lashing not to let him cum. Taking her slavering mouth off him. Leaving him thrusting at .. NOTHING. Every fibre in his manly body alive and raging .. every cell in his being on fire .. he just had to .. HAD TO.Time-and-time again. Tortured out of his mind. Lost his determination to defy this tyrant .. unconcerned about his craving to deny the usurper any satisfaction .. He’d foiled the brute once .. he’d not do so again. Only one thing filled his head .. only one thought .. one torturous need .. he had to cum.From his father’s throne a satisfied conqueror did not miss a single move. The prick was drooling. His cock was dribbling. He was going crazy. Shouting out .. fooling himself .. pretending there might be some chance of release .. this time .. please the gods .. PLEASE .. going out of his mind.But he had ordered it, No release. And that bitch knew .. she knew the value of a tyrant’s threats .. this stud came .. just once .. just one mistake was enough .. He’d have her back whipped raw .. she’d be fucking every soldier that felt the inclination. Barrack-room whore. One mistake .. let this royal brat cum .. and she’d be sucking guards’ dicks till kingdom-come.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ Alone. Left by the guards going off for their ale. Abandoned in the depths of the dungeons. Deserted. Left with his urges. His blood was driving him crazy. The itch to finish himself off was driving him out of his mind. But his hands were caught in the manacles, raised above his head. Just as well .. he tried to console himself .. the very idea of touching himself .. his hands working himself up .. his skin screaming out with every move .. his cock raging .. inflamed from her tormenting .. The temptation would have been great .. to finish off the job .. but the agony would have been something else ...Or so he tried to console himself. Smiling at his own wisdom in the darkness. False wisdom, he knew. Abandoned .. alone .. plaything to a mean-minded enemy .. he needed some consolation to lift his spirits that long night. As it was .. nothing he could do anyway .. except pant it out .. wait for the urges in his blood to calm themselves. Long and hurting .. long into an endless night … his last?∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞TwoBring on the parade4508514287500CaptionFancied yourself as a leader?PrickSaw yourself leading your people.Into what? Disaster? Defeat?Thought you could save your people?Dickhead .. how far that idea get you?Reckoned they would rise up .. ?follow you into battle ..?Put their hides on the line ..?How much you know about peasants, asshole?Pain in the ass ..Needle in the flesh ..caught yourself a few lucky breaks ..managed to save your skin a while .. give this rabble some hope ..False hope, dickhead.Look at you now.How sweet does victory smell?∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ Mid-morning judging by the sun. The guards had come for him. Bundled him up to the surface .. out into the barracks’ courtyard. Dozens of enemy soldiers around. Brought out into the light to face his execution. He’d steeled himself, this had long-since been his fate .. to die for his people .. He had no idea what form his death would take .. but he had done his best .. held out as long as he could. The tyrant had enjoyed gloating over his suffering after the whore had finished off tormenting him. Confirming what Yannuck knew. He was condemned to die.They weren’t taking any chance .. whatever form of execution. A thick iron collar around his neck. Metal arms spread out from the ring out to the side, his wrists trapped in the manacles at either end. To make sure he’d not make a run for it, leg irons around his ankles, the chain in-between heavy and thick. Yannuck, the last claimant to the throne, was not to be allowed to make good his escape.Hell .. he was walked an emotional hell. He was dying of shame. Being made to walk his own city. Under guard, in chains, near-naked .. walked under close guard through the streets. Watched .. the people lining the streets. In uncanny silence. Despair weighed heavy in the air.Three pairs of guards in front, three more pairs behind .. a parade of shame through the town. In front a drum thumped out a slow beat. Setting the rhythm for a slow march of shame. The beat alerting bystanders to come out and watch.The streets were full. An eerie silence accompanied his way. Their prince .. their last hope .. their only chance left of driving the invaders out .. dragging heavy chains behind him. His arms caught on an iron bar attached to his neck .. like some mad dog. He shivered at their looks .. he was dismayed by their despair. Seeing him like this .. young, strong .. stripped of all dignity. This muscular young man .. hopeless in chains .. their best hope .. yet the enemy’s prisoner. Strong defined legs dragged leg irons .. scraped dismally over the sun-baked earth .. the sounds clawing like talons into their flesh. Eerie echoes bounced off the walls. Cracked through the silence as Yannuck dragged his path of disgrace through their town. An uncanny echoing despair. Their hopes dashed .. he was walked displayed in shame through their midst. Hope gone. Defeated.Where once the mummers had played .. where feast days had been celebrated with jugglers and conjurers .. Yannuck saw that on the stage by the city walls the invaders had now mounted a punishment frame. A pair of hefty poles set up on the stage. Where singers before had entertained .. nowadays any man who glared in defiance at the invaders, here he felt the lash .. a place of entertainment under his father’s rule .. transformed into a place of public punishment. And the site of his execution.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ThreeStaged appearanceCaptionWhat you reckon, asshole ..?they pleased to see you?Can’t stop themselves ..whooping for joy that you’re back?He was met with silence, dismay.No better way to crush vestiges of hope ..the object of their faith led through their streets ..in chains .. in shame .. the last chance of casting off the invader ..shuffling in chains through their midst.Your own fault, asshole ..only you brought this on.Only a dickhead could build up false hopes ..based on what?qualified to do what exactly?skilled in what?Don’t make me laugh.Let them see their great leader.Get an image of the great man.Go down in history .. .The Prince of false hopes.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ What they saw walked through their midst. Handsome, young-man pride in his body. It was hard not to be curious. The young girls had never seen a prince displayed like this. Their gaze roamed sadly over the shoulders extended out sideways, manacled to an iron bar. Firm, round, muscled, solid. Eyes took sorrowful admiration of the tight waist below his strong tapered back. Sadly they watched him walked .. to his death, to execution. So young, so handsome, so doomed. He’d been beaten, bruises and blemishes spoiled the flawless patterns of his muscled belly. Men could not but wonder how a man so young had kept this enemy on the run. He and a handful of their countrymen fighting bravely against an army of seasoned soldiers. He was condemned, fated to die. But his broad back was straight, his belly taut and undaunted, his jaw set firm. Mark of the courage that had inspired men to keep up the fight.Stood on the stage .. where before people had come to laugh and be entertained ..shoved between the uprights .. stained with whipped blood. Looking down at his people who had drifted into the square behind him. A heavy feeling of their dismay in the air. Gazing up at him .. the last prince of the line .. the one hope they had hung on to .. seeing the collar being removed, his wrists bound to the beam above .. hanging down on rope between the posts. Their eyes met .. their prince .. his people .. but no joy resounded at this reunion.Yannuck could not allow despair. However ashamed he felt at his failure .. even if the enemy gloated at displaying his dignity abused like this .. he could not let that show. He’d seen the looks in their eyes as he passed by dragging leg-irons, his people seeing in his capture proof of their disaster. The invaders had won. He had not long to live. But what time he had he had to dedicate to lifting spirits. A display of courage. The people had been invaded, the enemy had won. But they were not broken. Their spirit was not defeated.He had assumed it was curiosity that had brought the people behind him into the square. Wondering what this parade of their prince all meant .. or morbid fascination. His arms had been raised to the beam above his head. Now hands were tugging on his legs, roughly pulling them apart. Rope fastening his ankles to another beam behind.Should he have made things hard for them? Fighting back when they were binding him in place? He could have kicked out, could have landed a few punishing blows. But they would have beaten him, thrashed him into submission. Beaten him before his people .. proof of his helplessness. Dignity came with taking his execution in his stride, not in being forced into it. Accepting with courage the inevitability. Would they understand, these people below the platform looking up at him? Better to let this happen .. voluntarily .. better than his people see this their last hope forced against his will? Would they see it the same way? He hoped to hell they would. His greatest fear .. greater than standing prisoner to their enemy .. worse than stood near-naked before their eyes .. fearing they’d see their prince as a coward .. who had had the fight beaten out of him. Leaving their dungeons Yannuck had felt the risk of a great sense of dismay lurking at the pit of his stomach. Brought out to die. Captured. Execution. At the root of his feelings had been the sadness that .. with him .. it ended .. the fight against oppression was over. Stood before his people, as good as naked. This indignity forced on him by the enemy he could not defeat. They had won, his people down-trodden. His mission had failed. That thought had made his heart sink.He glanced up now, taking in the inescapability of his position. Arms tied to a beam, the beam held above his head by ropes that dangled down. Ropes passed through rings at the top of these blood-stained uprights. Tied in the middle of the beam .. when he moved an arm, the beam swung and swayed. But the despair in the people’s eyes as he had passed filled him again with the searing truth of his destiny. Checking himself .. as much an act as self-belief to himself .. proudly he had raised his head, lifting his muscled chest high in an act of defiance .. Stood under the enemy’s punishment frame, as they fumbled with ropes to bind him in place .. his eyes scoured to people below. Head high, chest strong, belly sucked in .. giving them the image of their young prince fearless and proud. Finding that strength to lift the spirits of his people assembled below .. to give his people an image they could hang on to. Come to witness their prince being executed. He felt his defiance reflected back. Sensed a bond between people and proud-muscled prince. Out-numbered by an enemy but stood here today united in spirit.It was not curiosity that brought them here, he noticed. Not a gloating to see his public execution. They were being driven here like cattle, crammed into this square This was not some blood-thirsty rabble come to enjoy an execution .. attracted to the spectacle of a prince being slaughtered before their eyes. The tyrant’s soldiers were driving people into the square. The town was being emptied .. forced by spears and whips to come witness this execution. On all sides, from every lane that emptied into the square people were being jostled and threatened. Pushed forward, filling the space to capacity. The town was being driven into this square. Every man, woman and child driven by whips and threats. Driven to see the last of the line executed before their eyes.Stood near-naked, only coarse sacking covering his privates, they saw up on the platform their prince. His legs spread wide-apart, forced open by the ropes tying his ankles to a beam. The only sound in the square was the bawling from the tyrant’s soldiers. Compelling, threatening, squeezing more bodies into the square till it seemed it would burst. But the people .. his people .. they stood in silence .. in dismay and shock. Their prince .. his legs spread, his arms out-stretched to a beam above his head.They were as one .. him and his people. Ironically here on this stage .. where before they had laughed and wondered at the jugglers’ tricks .. here the invaders meant for them to see the end of life as they had known it.Yet they were as one. United in an act of defiance. Bravely .. despite his bonds .. in defiance of the hopelessness of their situation .. Yannuck stuck out his chest. Spread-eagled by his bonds .. yet defiant he gave his people what they needed to see. If this was the end .. it would go down with dignity .. it would end so that the minstrels could put it onto verse. Sing it into time immemorial. Yannuck would make them proud.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞4.VolunteersCondemned for rebelling-450852603500CaptionLet them drool over their darling prince.Put their faith in the prick, eh?.let ‘em see him for what he is ..in all his full glory.Crush him. Break him.Hear him scream.Not a peasant leaping up to help.No one jumping to his side.Abandoned. Forgotten.A memorable way to go.Beaten till he begs.Beaten till he breaks .. Beaten to crap by his own ..taking the whip to his back.Thought he was saving them.Thought they were on his side.When someone else has the whip hand over them .. .. to save their own sorry skin ….they’ll wield the lash.Beat him till he screams. Begs∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ “Looking for volunteers .. an opportunity to earn your king’s pleasure …”King .. the tyrant? .. The usurper who had come from the north and overwhelmed a peace-loving people. His captain stood on the platform looking into the crowd. Crammed tight into the square. People forced to attend whatever punishment their “king” had in mind for the last claimant to the throne.Yannuck’s sentence had been pronounced. His fate had been declared. The death sentence.“For rebelling against the king .. for murder .. thieving .. for insurrection .. “For giving his people hope .. for battling bravely against overwhelming odds .. “ .. this scum is brought before you.”The tyrant’s captain paraded on the stage. In front of him, the people forcibly crammed into the square, held captive by armed guards at every exit. Behind, their prince, scantily dressed in a scrap of sack-cloth, spread-eagled under a frame. Awaiting his sentence. The end of hope. Dismay was being breathed in with the air.“The fuckhead’s rebellion is at an end. The scumbags who fought with him .. locked in chains .. awaiting transfer to the mines ... “Digging out the wealth from the earth .. that had brought these invaders over the passes and crushed a wealthy peace-loving people.“.. where they will repay their king for their insurrection. For the rest of their miserable lives .. “Yannuck felt a knot at the pit of his stomach. His devoted soldiers. Faithful. Fiercely loyal. Driven underground. Never again to see the light of day. Life expectancy short no doubt. His heart gave a lurch. But his demeanour gave no sign. His people saw him stood proud, chest high, his muscled belly drawn in. An object lesson in courage. Standing up to the enemy .. in the face of death. Just the way his people expected him to be.“No such leniency for ringleaders ..”The captain’s arm flicked over at Yannuck spread between the uprights., Dismissively.“Your king has condemned him to death …”YOUR KING. Not one person in this square thought of the tyrant as that. AND … if he had expected a reaction from the crowd .. if the captain had thought the people were going to show shock at the sentence .. he was disappointed. They were frozen by the horror presented to their eyes. Numbed by the sight. The end of life as they knew it. There was no going back from this.Yannuck felt his failure deeply. He had let them down. But Yannuck felt an obligation too. To his pride. As a member of his royal family. But more to his people. This was not the end. He’d stand up to them as long as he could still draw breathe. Oppression could never be the end.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞Blacksmith0-190500 Sergi Constance/ Todd SanfieldCaptionHe stood out from the crowd,picked out from the crowd.For all his size .. looking nervous ..what had he done?Reprisals .. .that what this was about?Yannuck swore .. the bastards!Grab some innocent bystander?Make an example.Outstanding physique ..shoulders like an open barn door ..chest high, muscle-proud.Mason? Blacksmith?Arms made from years of punishing hard work.Retaliation? Stand up to this enemy .. this is what you get.Rank no matter .. prince .. mason .. peasant..Rebel and you got what you deserved ..Whipped within an inch of your lifepunished at these blood-stained stakes.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ “YOU!”The captain was pointing into the crowd. Stood on the platform with the captive prince under the killing frame behind. “You look the part. Perfect. Just the fucker who’ll do ..”He gestured into the crowd. “Get the fuck over here. You. The big one. Yes, you. Black jerkin.”He nodded. Like a teacher mocking a stupid pupil who just couldn’t understand.“Talking to you, muscle-head. Here. Move it, ya big brute. Get the fuck up here. NOW!”Yannuck couldn’t see what the commotion was about. Heads turning in the crowd .. following the disturbance.“Go get the fucker,” the captain snapped at some guards. “Get that dickhead up here.”A few moments a tall man was being pushed up the steps onto the platform. He looked worried. Concerned to be dragged away from his family. Shoved through the crowds and on to the stage. Wondering what he had done wrong. Fearing what might be happening to him.The captain scored his gaze over the worried-looking man up on the top of the steps. Looking like he’d flee given the chance.“Yeah, you’ll do.”Glancing at a guard, he snapped.“Give the muscle-head the whip.”Without thinking .. like he was hypnotised by his anxieties, the man took the whip in his hand.The captain gestured with his head contemptuous at the prisoner staked out behind.“Give it him. Forty lashes. Lay it on hard. Or else ….”As if for the first time Yannuck saw the man dragged out to give him a whipping. One of his own his people. Tall, he stood a good head above Yannuck himself. That jerkin of coarse cloth was armless, it was stretched by the swell of his muscular chest. He was big. Arms of defined muscle, powerfully built. His shoulders rested like cannon balls on his shoulders. The breadth of his chest strained at the fabric. Revealing underneath a powerhouse of strength. And at the bottom the slightest glimpse of a belly that could have been made of rocks. A farmer. A blacksmith. Someone who had had to work punishingly hard all his life.The captain had chosen well. One of the most outstanding physiques Yannuck had ever seen. Dragged up onto the platform. Whip in hand. Ordered to beat forty lashes into his body. With his people looking on. At the sight of such muscular power inwardly Yannuck flinched. A man of such exceptional strength .. a whip in his hand .. he could do a lot of damage.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞Refusal CaptionHe was tall, he was strong.Muscled and powerful.Taking a whip to his body .. from such force .. Not a punishment to be wished ..A lifetime of punishing hard work .. Nothing less had shaped that back.Endless days hammering at the forge .. muscle burning perpetually in his shoulders .. what else could have forged such strength? Muscular power in his chest stretched at his jerkin ..sweat-stained from years of pounding at iron ..the skin in his upper arms bursting .. straining to hold in such power.Forty lashes .. whipped by such force ..forty cutting into his skin ..chosen well .. selected for maximum damage.How long could a prince hold on?Hold in his screams?∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ He dropped the whip like it was burning coals. Awkwardly he stepped backwards. He clutched his hand to his chest. Like he’d been holding red-hot iron.“No. I can’t ..”This big brute of a man .. strength pulsing out of his every pore .. there was an almost feeble sob in his voice. His head whipped around to the crowd, stood below, staring up at the spectacle on the platform. “I can’t …”Like he was appealing to them.The captain snapped back at him.“You fucking will …”His eyes snarled. Every fibre in his body was spitting out his will. He was not going to be denied. Treacherous behaviour .. peasant disobeying .. in public. Coldly .. icy-cold his voice .. he said, “Pick up that fucking whip.”The blacksmith did not move. His eyes flashed from the threat from the captain back to the crowd. Here at least they would understand. He could not whip his prince. What had he done to deserve this?“Pick it up.”The blacksmith did not respond. As if frozen by indecision.“You hear me? DICKHEAD? Pick up that whip.”Yannuck saw the poor man .. frozen .. uncertainty in his every fibre .. he didn’t refuse .. he didn’t react. Quickly this man of outstanding physique .. frozen by the order .. snapped his head towards Yannuck. A meeting of minds.Gone in an instant.“Get the fucker.”The captain’s snapped order had his men pressing forward> They rushed the poor indecisive man. A moment later they had him pressed back against one of the uprights. A hand jammed into his throat .. crushing him back against the pole. Roughly others grabbed holding his hands .. pulled them tight around the back of the stake. The man was twice the size of any of them. Without flinching those muscular arms could have laid any one of them low. Forcefully hammered like molten iron .. pounded them to earth’s anvil. He stood head and shoulders above them. Any resistance from those powerful shoulders could have knocked half of them flying off this platform. But like a dumb sacrificial goat he let them push his back against the stake. Unnecessarily a fist smacked him in the belly. He offered no resistance. He let hands pull his arms around the back to the upright.“Last chance, motherfucker. You hear? FUCK-HEAD?. Use that whip on the fucker .. or else ..Give it the fucker. You hear?” Hands had already yanked at the front of the new prisoner. Tearing his jerkin open. Ready to take the lash. For disobedience.“Pick up that whip. Last fucking chance. Let’s hear this princely fucker beg.”The captain yelled out his orders. Like a madman. Like a man possessed. Like a conqueror that was not going to be shown up. Not by some peasant. Not by some muscle-head. Not in front of this crowd.“Stop. Stop this. STOP THIS NOW.”A voice of authority rang out over the melee. A power in the voice that was used to command. And to be obeyed. Yannuck called out. His voice echoing over the crowd. Commanding. Stopping the soldiers’ charade with the young blacksmith. Shaken by this intervention. Yannuck’s gaze caught the captain. The power behind his command brooking no answering back.“Enough,” Yannuck told his enemy.Shocked by his intervention, the man at the stake was staring open-eyed at his prince. Yannuck had heard a worrying murmur growing in the crowd. At seeing an innocent bystander threatened with the lash. He feared a impulsive reaction .. unthinking .. his people outraged .. fighting back. There’d be a massacre in this tight space .. children .. women. He blurted out his command. The soldiers were taken aback. The murmuring in the crowd stopped. A tense heaviness hung over the square. Everyone surprised by this turn of event.Yannuck knew he would not have long .. too soon he could lose the element of surprise. The oppressors would regain their confidence. See his intervention for what it was .. impudence.“You have family? A wife?”Yannuck had read their brief look. This blacksmith was loyal. In acknowledgement the man nodded. Frozen. As if mesmerised. Not expecting to be addressed by his prince.“Children?” Yannuck asked.The rugged face broke into a weak smile.“Three.”Yannuck paused briefly. Fully aware of what he was doing.“Do it. Do as told.”The pair of them fixed gazes. They locked eyes. “You have no greater duty. Be loyal to them.”A sudden recognition of the reality flashed between them. Both knew what Yannuck had done. What this would mean.“I order you ..,” Yannuck said, “.. your prince commands you.” Firm but understanding. “Do as told.”Yannuck was aware of the onlookers in the crowd .. catching his every word. “Do your duty ..,” he added.Bravely he looked into the strong face of the blacksmith.“You owe it to your children. Do it for them.”∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞Volunteer CaptionYannuck had ordered the man to do his duty.Take the lash to him.A physique that was matchless ..A brute force that would take his breathe away ..A bird in the hand .. worth two in the bush.But what if there ‘re two …?An enthusiastic volunteer .. busting to put his back into it.Double the effect .. double the hurt.Angry murmurings from the crowd ..offered to whip their prince .. traitor .. sucking up to the enemy .. Posturing .. preening .. showing off ..shirt-off .. showing what he’d got ..arrogantly boasting .. all this power .. .. what he was going to stick to this damned prince.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ “Fucking impressive.”The captain had Yannuck by the hair. The grip twisted painfully in the scalp. Turning his prisoner’s face into a contemptuous smirk.“Acting like someone who can give orders ..”The punch smacked Yannuck in the belly. Deep below the belly button. The captain hadn’t taken a shine to his prisoner acting like he could shove his weight around.“Like you have to do my job for me ..”Another blow straight in the belly.“Here’s my thanks for all the help.” A blow so hard it puffed the air out of Yannuck’s cheeks.“Keep your fucking nose out of this.”Punched right on the belly button again. Hard, vengeful, angry. Knocking his prisoner backwards, doubling him up. A sharp yelp of pain.“Shut the fuck up. Or I’ll have your gob shut for you …”Yannuck winced and glanced at the soldiers .. itching to show him up more. Only too willing to force a gag on him .. while his people stood watching. Panting from the belly punching .. Yannuck could see the pleasure they’d take from making him look small .. yanking his head back, tugging him backwards by the hair. Another slamming half-dozen fists into his distended belly. Busting up muscle defence. His people looking on .. dismayed. Fists going for him .. blasting into organs behind the muscle strength. Until he cried out in pain. His voice cutting into the hearts on his people watching. The bastards waiting. A pained cry forced open his mouth. Thick rope quickly jammed across the gaping mouth. Pulled tight. Knotted behind the head. For a good measure, another couple of punches doubled up the prisoner, spluttering painfully into his gag .. looking and sounding stupid. And all the time his people weeping for him .. groaning in their hearts for this sign that all hope was lost.Yannuck glowered back at the captain. But he kept his mouth shut.“Let me at the bugger ….” Yannuck was panting through his pain still. His eyes bleary from the burning in his abs. His head raging at the indignity of the public beating .. being shown up even more. But his vision still blurred, he caught sound of a loud shouting from the crowd. “ .. that prick doesn’t want to do his duty? I’ll do him for you …”Through watery eyes he saw the captain. Again stood on the edge of this platform looking out into the crowd. Looking at the man who’d shouted out. Was Yannuck hearing that angry murmuring in the crowd starting again.“Nothing like a willing volunteer .. get a job done well …”The captain was laughing out. And gesturing for the man to step up on to the platform. “Yes .. you’ll do. Get up here .. You’ll fucking do.”The man called out wasted no time. In no time at all Yannuck saw him leap up on to the platform .., as if he’d been projected up there. As if he couldn’t hold himself back. Full of himself .. like he was mad with joy at being called out. He went straight into some muscle pose .. arms up and bent .. showing off his physique .. flexing his biceps .. exaggerating the strength in his shoulders .. showing off to the crowd.He wasn’t built like the blacksmith. When Yannuck had seen his front through the torn jerkin, he had glimpsed the etched power, the defined torso. His own command to put the whip to his back .. he would come to regret that .. a man built like this blacksmith could do a lot of damage. This volunteer, though .. more beefy that etched. But still big and powerful .. that broad back would wield a whip with some force. And .. out of the mouth of the captain .. nothing like an enthusiastic volunteer to put his back into it.If he expected a WOW! of appreciation for his muscle show .. he got none. He preened his way from one side of the platform to the other, giving his audience a display of his strength. To impress further he whipped his short off, pulling it over his head. A muscled belly .. a hard chest coming into sight. Yannuck heard no appreciation from the crowd in response. No one uttering amazed gasps at the breath of his shoulders. As far as Yannuck could see, the crowd below just watched. As if all responses from them were seemed to have been still-born at birth. Though some eyes Yannuck could see glimmered with anger .. one of their own had come forward to take the whip to their prince. Offered to wield the whiphand at their last hope.“Anything in this for me? Sir?”Yannuck heard the poser prick. He had sidled up to the captain. No worries about being overheard .. by the prisoner .. by the crowd.The captain smirked. His eyes tracked over to Yannuck. Saw they were being overheard.“Forty. Into his back. Best you can do.” Dangling the titbit of reward .. for a job well-done.The captain’s eyes slitted. A look of pleasure settled on his lips as he saw Yannuck watching.“Then we’ll see …”The captain’s gloating features trapped the poser. They snapped tight. Closed, tight.“What you waiting for? Dickhead.”The poser had picked up the whip. Unfurling it. Eyeing his target. Grim-faced.The captain’s eyes had flashed back at his prisoner. Stood helpless. Exposed, spread-eagled, dressed only in ragged sacking barely covering his privates, near-naked, his indignity displayed to the people his family once had ruled.“Do it,” he snarled. “Put your back into it ..”∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞EnergisedCaptionOut with the old, in with the new.There were new masters on this planet.Others to suck up to. This has-been royal brat has had his time.Up yours, motherfucker …A way to ingratiate himself ..win himself favours ..willing to serve .. Kiss ass .. brown-nose .. happy to whip the shit out of this prick.Anything in it for himself?Taste of your own medicine, your royal dickhead?Family not loathe to dish it out ..himself stood at the stake .. lashed till he begged ..How’s it feel .. back on fire .. slammed by pain ..?Crying out with every thwack?Do a good job .. show the royal fucker up ..put his back into this .. beat him till he begs.Gotta be something in this for him ..∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ The captain had called a halt. Thirty lashes. The beefy show-off had worked the prisoner over .. done a good job .. put his back into it. Lashing with grunted vigour at the fucker’s back. In no time squeezed out the first cry of pain. Obviously desperate to please. Thinking there’d be something in this for him. The dumb fucker!But too much of a good thing .. the prisoner was done in. No longer giving much of a show - and that was what this was all about. Every strike with the whip had sent his torso writhing. The muscles on his bare body jerking in a tortured dance. Pain crippled his body, his cries sharp and anguished. But it had become too much of the same. The prick’s act needed spicing up.He was sweating .. a madness had him by the balls .. a rush like he couldn’t remember. He’d gone under the whip himself. He knew to his own cost the power of the sizzle .. smarting burns that flashed like lightning over the flesh .. igniting every muscle .. His back remembered the value of taking it slow .. every blow given the power to disable the mind .. their lashes had driven his body to the pinnacle of pain in an instant .. losing breathe with the rush of agony whipping through his flesh. Body shaking .. muscle rigid .. agonised .. shuddering at the extremity of pain. Then slowly those fuckers had let him slide off the mountain-top .. every step torture .. every moment agony as the numbness receded .. blistering pain clawing its talons down his back .. getting his breathe back .. sweat dribbling off his hair.Then thwacked again. Brutally whipped back into the tortured peaks. The cycle of agony starting over. “STOP! Fuckhead. What you do for fucking ears?”The beefy brute was into his stride. Seemingly deaf, seemingly unable to stop himself. Getting off on the cries of anguish he was wrenching out of this former prince. Getting off alright .. you couldn’t miss the effect on him in his breeches. This whip .. as much to bludgeon as cut, he’d noticed. More like the quirt he’d used on the oxen back home. Chosen to pound muscle into breaking down .. more than meant to flay this has-been prince raw. Again he threw the heavy braided leather over his shoulder .. leaned back for leverage .. and threw his whole weight behind the lash. Muscle went rigid .. agony tore its ragged path through agonised flesh. This royal motherfucker was long past holding in his cries .. he’d made sure of that. A blast of power rushed to his loins as the motherfucker let go his agonised pain.They’d criss-crossed his own back when those bastards had given it to him. His flesh knew the explosive force .. pain bursting free .. a new lash sparking off the agonised welt. A bludgeon of torture smashed across a thick angry weal. Cutting open flesh where the stripes kissed. How’s it feel, motherfucker? Under the lash? Easy to order a fucker to the stake .. bitter pill to swallow it yourself, eh?The captain had had to bawl him out .. just to get his cock to listen.One of his men came forward with a bucket at his nod.“The fucker needs livening up,” the captain commanded to the beefy brute. “Give his back that. Let’s put some life into the fucker.”Without thinking the poser reached for his crutch before taking hold of the bucket of water. Now he had stopped whipping the burning in his breeches suddenly scorched. But the soldier gestured angrily .. irritated he was having to wait for some peasant to take the bucket just so he could sort himself out. He’d been so intent to please these new masters .. he’d given it all he’d got. The sweat was pouring off his hair .. he realised he was panting .. having put so much into this beating .. his bare chest was dripping. The smell of his sweat was rancid and tart. Quickly, unthinking, one forearm swept over his forehead. Water from the bucket tipped out.“Watch it, fuckhead.” He shivered at the harshness of the captain’s voice. His body was all worked-up, almost feverish. That sharp rap of anger reminded him who was in charge. And whose ass he was licking.“You wanna stand in for this fucker? Take his place?”Quickly he threw the bucket. Dowsing his victim’s skin. The force of the throw arching the red-striped back, cold water smacking him hard. Making him call out in shock.It took only seconds. Suddenly that crimson back was twisting .. contorting in a jerky dance. A sharp warped cry burst free. Convulsing, squirming, writhing. The head was thrown back .. knocked back by pain. The muscled torso he had striped with thirty lashes was pirouetting in an incoherent jig of anguish. Pain burst in ragged cries as he danced. Amazing. Astonishing. Unthinking, confused .. the beefy show-off again wiped the sweat dripping off his forehead. He licked at his fingers .. parched .. needing the liquid .. even if just the sweat off his skin. Salt. Brine. In that bucket. He had just dowsed that fucking royal brat in salt water. What a joke! Sprayed over his back. Eating into open wounds. What a hoot! The fucker’s open cuts had been washed out in brine.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞Collecting debtsCaptionThis show – what it was about?Showing this fucking princeling up.Pummelling the fight out of him.Let’s hear it for the prick ..let’s hear the fucker bawl.This moron .. the show-off .. going for it .. like it was personal ..Or was he just kissing ass ..?Hoped for some pay-off?Beating the shit out of the royal prick.Whip brought down overhand ..smacking the fucker right down his back .. Pain threw him off his feet.Wound himself like a spring .. twisting his brawny body .. brute force ..thwacked across his shoulders ..that got the fucker yelling ..What’s in it for him?Fucking cheek. Cretin.He did the job – he’d crawl back into the slime.He didn’t – the fucker ‘d get some of the same.Was what the wanker was worth.Slack off? Think he was owed?Make an example of the prick, they would.There was a new show in town.Didn’t do deals.Not with morons who got themselves conquered.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ “Thirty, motherfucker …”The captain snarled out. “How many did I command?”Beefy knew .. he still owed another ten. That had been the deal. But the burning in his breeches was taking him somewhere else. Getting personal.“How’s it feel, .. your motherfucking highness?”He had sidled up to his victim. Did the unthinkable. Placed a hand on a princely shoulder. Muscle tortured, the heat off the skin sizzling against his sweaty palm. Burning pain from every open lash. Squirming as brine ate into pain.“Being on the receiving end?”He had been caught thieving from the palace. What was a few pewter plates to these fuckers? Hadn’t they got enough to swamp a table? Caught. Publicly flogged. Made an example off. Whipped till he could take no more .. till he was shamed into begging them to stop. Dismissed from service. Hard to find another job with a reputation for a thief.Yannuck boiled with rage. Furious that they’d won over his resolve. He’d held it in .. best he could. Each blow hit like a kick from a horse. Thwacked into his back .. the force throwing him forward. That bar behind his legs .. made it impossible to control himself .. jerked forward by a mule kicking him in the back .. legs ungainly stuck .. jarring .. jerking. He’d held it in .. maybe the first ten thwacks .. thudded so his eyes nearly popped out of his head. Biting his teeth together .. pain bursting out of his nose .. clenching his jaws tight .. shock exploding in his head. Coming slowly .. long intervals between each blow .. the treacherous fucker was dragging it out .. squeezing every drop of pain out of each lash.Ten .. maybe? .. maybe he’d kept them in? .. his body-breaking cries .. crushed them digging his chin to his chest. But they’d understand .. wouldn’t they? .. his people looking on? Seeing his suffering? Understand he was flesh and bones .. this fucker with his bludgeon was out to suck up to the invaders .. he was putting everything into every lash. They would .. wouldn’t they? .. when he couldn’t hold it in any longer? When the first tortured yell ripped his jaws apart? He hoped to the gods they’d not expect anything else .. he was not superhuman .. flesh-and-blood for fuck’s sake. He hurt, he hurt like hell. Had it really only been a dozen blows?Pain had him in its grip. Tortured agony tore through his body. Proud young muscle could not stand up to this. Determination had its limits. They’d understand .. wouldn’t they? When pain burst out into the air .. ragged .. sharp, twisted .. He was passed awareness .. agony wrenched through every fibre of his torso. Till his body was shocked .. cold .. wet . dousing his back. Wrenched back to tortured awareness in a flash. The old hurts .. buffeting him like the ocean’s surf .. too powerful to resist. Thrown helplessly by the force of Nature’s pains. Gasping out loud when tortured flesh remembered the battering.Crying out. Agonised. Burning oils drenched his back. He was on fire. Demons of hell had stuck their torches into his wounds. He twisted. He jerked to escape. The inferno of the abyss moved with him. His flesh was alight. He squirmed, writhed .. frantic .. anything to put out the flames. Hearing the bellows in his head .. his throat raw with his screams.“What you say .. your motherfucking lordship? Like a taste of your own medicine?”He scraped his finger -tips down the whip-lashed back. Scarlet-red. Burning up where brine had eaten into open wounds. Once was not enough, he could not resist. Another sharp cry .. sadistically his fingernails dug in .. a piercing yelp as agony twisted the muscled back .. agonising. Once could never be enough. Claws found the open welts again. The shoulders twisted together. A face looked over the trembling shoulder .. tortured, agonised. But still his victim was snarling back, his face tear-streaked .. FUCK YOU. Has-been. All that royal motherfucker got for his pains .. a gloating smirk in return. And another pain-clawed scrape. Finger nails tearing talons of malice through tortured flesh. How’s it feel, fuckhead?“Get the fuck on with it. Or you want to take these ten yourself?”The sharpness of the captain’s sneer got him back. If anything mattered in the world .. it was getting in with this new lot. Secondary was getting his own back. His vengeance against this royal brat .. and the rest of his other fuckers, now dead, the whole fucking lot. Good riddance. This fucker owed. His family owed. Thought they were something special, had they? Well, here’s how fucking special you are now. FUCKHEAD.But .. He reached out .. he took up the whip. There were new cocks ruling the roost. You’re nothing, fuckhead. Yesterday’s man. The beefy brute .. eager to ingratiate himself .. he reached for the whip. Ten more. Ten more lashes to make an impression. And man .. did he mean to make them count. There were new masters here now.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞5.The victimHardening decisions100330698500∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ “Wanna show them your tits?”The girl shuddered, she clasped her top about her. And wanted to crawl inside herself with fear. The captain laughed. “OK, just for me then .. Give us a peek.”His hand made to grab at her protective hand. Yannuck -- exhausted beyond imagining could only watch helpless as the girl shrank in terror from his hands. But it was like their play was in another dimension. In another place. “Tell you what ...,” the captain still had his hand stretched out, going to rip open her top. She shot Yannuck a look, pleading. But her prince could only looked back .. not responding. Unable to come to her aid.“Tell you what, sweetie .. Afterwards .. just you and me .. What you say, eh?”The captain sounded like he was joking. But the girl looked terrified .. not enjoying the joke. Deep in his awareness Yannuck knew this was wrong. That normally he would have boiled with anger .. but none of this was real, he was on a different planet. He hurt. Hurt like fucking hell. Nothing he could do to save the girl from this teasing. He couldn’t even mouth the captain off .. distract him into throwing a punch at him. Where had all his strength gone? He panted .. hard .. laboured. Barely able to manage even that.“Just you and me .. afterwards, sweetie. You’ll like that.”He leered. “Promise.”Deep down . a memory of what was right-and-wrong jangled in Yannuck’s consciousness. Trying .. trying hard to respond .. he ought to .. come to this poor girl’s aid. In his haziness he managed to shake the beam above his head. To show anger .. to let go his frustration. Useless. Getting no effect. But somewhere a sense of honour was pounding in his head .. commanding him to respond.“Please me .. “ the captain sniggered .. “.. and I won’t let these other guys in on the act .. “The captain stuck his tongue out. Waggling it in an obscene gesture of his mouth between her legs.Another volunteer. The girl had been hauled out of the crowd. Pin-pointed and then roughly dragged up the steps onto this platform. Yannuck was smashed out of his head .. he didn’t know left-from-right. Later he’d realise he should have snapped off some insult for mistreating a poor innocent bystander .. a defenceless terrified girl. Some way of distracting this turd of a captain. He should have risked the beating he’d have got. This was no way to treat some poor girl herded into the square .. against her will. And now manhandled by groping soldiers on to the stage. For all to see. For her to play her part. In whatever perverted action was going on. Should have .. should have .. but pain and torture had had their way.Pain dribbled down his face. Torture drooled out of his mouth. Yannuck was beside himself with hurt. He had plunged helpless into the abyss. Careening down a bottomless hole that just kept falling .. screeching horrors from below engulfing his brain. Colliding with the rockface as he plummeted .. bouncing off .. bashing into the other side. Pain sizzling on his muscled flesh. Raucous mockery laughed back as his tortured body yelled in shock at the pain. Falling .. falling .. into an infernal hell. Butchered .. battered .. a fate laced with horror and torment. A fiery flood of hot air racing over his flesh .. the spectres of the netherworld breathing fire over his body. Torture and pain .. blow after blow from the lash smashing down on raw shuddering flesh.“Get the fucker up,” the captain snapped. Ordering his men about. “This lot of morons won’t wanna miss the next act.”In moments Yannuck felt jerking on his arms. Something new was happening .. anxiety sizzled in his brain. Warning him to be vigilant. He looked up. He was sweating profusely, his red-sore eyes watered, stung by his sweat. Through a red-yellow curtain of pain, squinting up he remembered how the ropes on his beam passed through rings at the top of the uprights. Soldiers were hauling them up. Jerkily Yannuck was being pulled up off the ground. His arms quickly straightened. Then more efforts, some grunts, needed to lift his body up in the air. The pulling jerked and gyrated the beam. The ropes met in the middle, a tug from the left jerked him one way, the damaged muscles in his back gave a cry of protest. Beaten flesh stretched, muscle yanked. Then a pull on the rope to the right. Jerking his torso over, the beam swaying. The weight of his suspended body swung. Pain scythed down his whiplashed back. His body twisted, gyrated to avoid the pains that tremored through his broken torso. Being shaken like some helpless doll, unevenly jerked up into the air. Struggling not to show the hurt on his face. Lifted till his feet were a couple of feet off the ground, dangling in the air.“Done that, sweetie ,” the captain had hold of the girl by the shoulders. .. “ .. so that scum down here ..,” his hand gripped her tight by the chin .. directing her to watch as the prisoner wobbled and jerked off his overhead beam. The captain’s head gestured with disdain at the crowd. “ .. so these pricks down there can all get a get view ..,” he explained over her head. “And see what . nice things you are doing to him …”Yannuck’s tortured back was protesting. Whip-lashed flesh was being stretched. Damaged muscle in his back .. pain clawed its talons through his back. Wounds torn apart as he was raised .. fresh torture inn his back. Hard not to show the hurt on his face. Burning pains .. lip-biting pains .. the hurt crunched his eyes tight-shut. Swaying, rocking off the ropes bound to the middle of the beam. Suspended in the air .. rocking movement sending shooting pains through his flesh.“ ‘ Cause what you’re gonna do, dearie ..”The captain’s gruff voice wrenched Yannuck’s eyes open again. He had the poor girl by the scruff of the neck. Directing her gaze at Yannuck now. Up in the air, rocking under his beam.“Turn the fucker ...” The captain snarled. Glaring at his men.“In the name of the gods .. what you lot got for brains?”The captain growled at his men.“Turn the fucker sideways. So these cretins out there can get a good eyeful ..”Yannuck saw a soldier grab hold of the beam over his head. Turning it .. positioning it so Yannuck was sideways on to the crowd. What the …?The captain had the girl by the chin. Making her look up at the prisoner.“Sorry about that dearie .. not got much in the head, my men .. though plenty between the legs .. if you get my meaning ..”The girl shrank as the captain’s hand stroked the side of her face. She tried to look away, he made sure she couldn’t.“Like I was saying …”He had tight by the jaw, forced her to face Yannuck. In his agonies .. still his sense of right-and-wrong could do battle with his pains. Yannuck could see the sheer terror trembling in her body. Neither of them knew what this was about. But he could see she was filled with anxiety. Biting her bottom lip. Scared out her wits. What had she done to be faced with this?Forcefully the captain pushed her down to her knees. When her terrors resisted .. without thinking .. she did not know what to do .. the captain kicked out .. the terrified girl crashed to her knees .. only a few inches from Yannuck’s thighs. She was crying now. Out of her mind with fear. Yannuck felt his anger rising. But above all he wanted to crush her to his strong chest, fold comforting arms around her, tell her it would all be all right.“What you’re gonna do, sweetie ..”The captain still had hold of her by the back of her neck. Suddenly he pushed her forward. Her face was being ground into Yannuck’s groin.“ .. gonna suck him off for me.”She can’t have heard. She can’t have understood. There was no reaction.“Remember .. sweetie .. AFTERWARDS .. you and me ..”He sniggered. Dominating over a poor defenceless girl.“SO .. might as well get some practice in ..”With one quick tug from his other hand the captain ripped the sacking away. The only covering Yannuck had to his name. A second later his head was grinding her face into Yannuck’s pubic hair.“SUCK THE FUCKER OFF!”∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞Shaming-495309144000CaptionSize doesn’t matter ..What dickhead ever come up with that one?One thing’s for sure ..that prick must have had a tiny weenie.Ask any soldier …take part in any fucking pissing competition one thing’s sure ..nothing else matters.These royal pillocks ..tend to keep things under wraps.See this king’s brat ..?you can tell why!These morons in the crowd ..gotta be disappointed ..THAT all their darling prince could muster ..even at full mast .. Stands to reason .. a princely cock ..gotta be something special, ain’t it?Gotta be twice the size .. at least .. what else gives these fuckers the right ..?Playing cock-of-the walk?With a teeny-weenie like that?∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ Wherever he looked he felt his anger. Anger and embarrassment combined. Tiredness had been dispelled by his hatred for this tyrant - and his leery soldiers. But that despot was somewhere else, probably having his own dick sucked off by women who had sold their souls to him to keep their families safe. But his oppression had its own representative .. this sadistic captain .. forcing a petrified innocent girl into this abominable act. If he could get just one hand free … But even as he glared in anger at the captain, playing with his head was the thought of the crowd. His people, shepherded into this square. Watching as Yannuck was forcibly made hard. To force on their minds that their former prince was nothing .. no power .. no chance to rescue them. Not even to save himself this mortification. Got erect against his will .. not even his most private possession was his to command. He had no right to live, this shaming announced .. he had led a rebellion .. it had been quashed. This intimate act performed publicly on a stage said one thing .. out loud. The conquerors could do whatever they wanted with this last remnant of the old regime .. whip him .. torture him .. shame in. Get the fucker hard. And there was FUCK-ALL he could do about it. Even the most private of acts .. who gave a fuck? He was theirs. To do with as they wished. She had screamed. She had tried to pull away in terror. The captain had held her firm .. her nose rubbed into her former prince’s crinkly hair. He had slapped her a few times about the head. Helpless above this scene Yannuck had wanted to kill. This abuse of the innocent had driven all thoughts of his own exhaustion from his being. He wanted to kill .. he wanted one minute out of these bonds. If he could get his hands on this captain .. But .. like with the blacksmith .. she had no choice. None of them had any choice.She was being forced .. forced against her will. Forced on her knees .. in front of her family .. forced into this shame before her friends .. her mouth forced around Yannuck’s limp cock. Take him in and make him hard.On her knees, sideways to the watching crowd .. wanting to die .. being watched by strangers .. her mouth held pressed against him … she’d been turned sideways so everyone could see .. the prisoner up in the air .. his dick in her mouth, sucking at him. She was frightened out of her life .. as she was ordered to use her mouth to suckle her prince’s cock to life.It had not taken long. Yannuck’s blood was on fire. Anger flooded his every fibre. And the shame of having this forced on him .. it was a wonder it had taken any time at all. The fighter virility in his blood was surging through his veins. His people stood watching his dick rise to the tyrant’s commands. Nerves .. anger .. a young man’s virility .. soon that happened what any virile man would do. He hated himself for it .. he hated them for doing it to him .. he was dying of shame .. for himself .. for the dismay his people must feel. And his heart was breaking for the poor girl dragged out of the crowd.“You know what you’re doing bitch?” Sarcastic the captain was breathing down her neck. “You ever had been with a man ..?”The captain’s loud mockery rang out across the crowd. His voice bounced off the town walls. Echoed over a crowd watching tense .. ashamed at their weakness. Not daring to come to her help. Forced into weakness by dozens of armed soldiers around.“Get him right inside you, bitch. Swallow the fucker. All the way down.”She gasped when his hand grabbed her by the scruff off the neck. In shock her teeth closed down on Yannuck. Digging into him as the captain shoved and pulled. Imitating how she should slide up and down him. Yannuck yelled out. Teeth grating along his solid shaft. Yanked backwards and forwards as in her terror she’d clamped down on him.Pain slobbered out of her gagged mouth. Above her prince tortured .. shamed. His eyes fixed on the captain. Yannuck cursed. Bawling his fury at his enemy.The captain smirked back. “What ya gonna do about it, motherfucker …?”∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞Revolving fortunes15240017145000CaptionIt wasn’t just his upbringing .. forced on him to behave well .. to set an example ..this girl was in pain ..Her terrors could only bring out the best ..trembling .. sobbing .. What man could not respond?Leap to her defence?This enemy couldn’t .. her terrors only goaded them more ..getting off on tormenting her .. getting their rocks off on her fears.If he’d had the strength .. he’d have done it .. come to her defence.As he was .. ? Weak in body ..?Everything hurting?An easy target .. easily beaten off.But he’d have done it ..found the strength of mind ..made a show .. this scum could not get away with it.But he was tied under this frame ..spread-eagled .. hanging in the air .. displayed .. his dick used to shame him ..He did what he could .. all he could ..Yannuck raged against the enemy. He cursed them to hell.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ Was there anything more crippling for a man than failure.. ? Self-doubt .. guilt .. sapping his strength of mind. Robbing him of the strength to keep up the fight. His rebellion had failed. The weakness of Yannuck’s position was being shown up .. the enemy’s plaything .. his vulnerability on display to the people here forced to assemble before this stage. He was stinging. Burning hot .. his back on fire .. sweat covered his front. And now these bastards were seeing that even his most private parts were the enemy’s to command. Over powering the hurt from the beating, Yannuck raged .. in frustration. Nothing he could do to help himself, their puppet, plaything. His head was back. In quivering arousal. The joys of sex tingling in his thighs .. swirling in his guts. Aroused to what should have been pleasure .. these bastards had turned it into the ultimate shame. His most intimate act .. a public spectacle. One he did not want to face. Her mouth was far down him .. the poor wretch .. slobbering .. sobbing .. hating this act. Doing as she’d been ordered .. threatened .. scared into this. . Tickling the head of him against the roof of her mouth. But so far down him that the people could not be seeing the stiffness of life that was raging inside her. His fury .. the pain of being bitten .. the soreness as her salty slobber stung as his wounds .. the aching hardness .. fearing her desperation he was going to come any moment now .. wanting like hell to deny this enemy that satisfaction. And feeling frustratingly powerless. Yet any man watching knew what Yannuck’s body would do. He could only hope it would happen .. inside her mouth, the poor girl. Unseen by the crowd .. not seeing what the enemy had forced on him. Her shock as he could not stop himself. Yet her mouth might still shield him from the onlookers. Yannuck did not know what to think .. what was for the best .. torn between the girl’s feelings .. and his dread of the mortification. When the enemy won over him. Forced him into doing the last thing he wanted .. in public before his people. What to do? What was best? Her mouth covering him was all that stood between him and that deadly shame. Made to spill his seed as his people looked on. Forced on him by the enemy. Shamed into this.“What you waiting for, pricks?”The captain bawled his men out. In the same moment his hand twisted in the girl’s hair. Yanked her mouth away and slung her crying out to the floor.“Get him. Do the fucker.”In a flash a soldier was down on his knees, his hand going for Yannuck’s bouncing shaft. Yannuck felt a dribble of wet. Then a hand from behind reached between his legs. He felt a yank. Something bit across the top of his root. Dug into the root of his shaft. Shocked out of his confusion Yannuck looked down. But all he could see was a soldier’s head. His hand extended in between his legs.Behind a sharp tug. Something .. something binding .. cord? .. a painful pinch dug into his shaft-root. Fingers between his legs. Like they were tying something around the back of his balls?Tying up his balls. A sharp tug from behind. Some fumbling .. knotting the cord behind his ballsack. Yannuck had done that to his younger self .. playing with the new sensations when he’d been discovering himself. Girls giggling had secured his erection with braids around his root .. promising themselves fun with it. But this ? This was an attack .. grim-faced soldiers roughly man-handling him. Yannuck tried to wiggle away, the suspended beam above his head gave a lurch. But not enough to stop this pair of soldiers working on him together. He’d had girls to bind him up .. playful .. to make him real hard. Now this tyrant’s men were binding cord tight around his balls. The cord looped again over his root shaft. And from behind another tug, tying him off. Wet dribbled down the inside of his thighs. Nalana .. that girl .. the tyrant’s whore .. she’d done it to him too .. hadn’t she?. “Wanna see him pointing straight up,” the tyrant had guffawed. Was that where he had got the idea? Another loop over the top, another knot behind his balls sack secured the bonds in place tugging, the cord biting into skin. Nalana’s trick .. used to save her own skin. Now it was turned on him again .. making him hard .. visible to the crowd there .. mortifying him .. his people watching as he was going to rise .. get harder still .. do what any man like this would do. Their prince .. totally humiliated .. Proof if ever they needed it .. not a fuck he could do. Water dribbling down his legs. Caught in loops of wet thin leather. Binding up his cock. Imprisoning his blood. Securing him in a solid erection.“THIS FUCKER ..”The captain had hold of the beam above Yannuck’s head. “Your darling has-been prince ..”He was turning it slowly. Turning Yannuck back to face the crowd. Back to showing them their princeling in full manly flush. Forced on him .. against his will. Because they could .. and there was fuck-all he could do about it.“THIS .. piece of shit .. was this what could have become your king?”The captain was turning Yannuck slowly .. his hand disdainfully sweeping towards the rigid shame. Making sure the sight of the people’s prince was in every person’s eye. Seen from every angle. “THIS? Call this worthy to rule? Like fuck it is ..!”Trapped into a hard-on .. pulsating .. raging blood imprisoned in their bonds. Slowly Yannuck was turned from left to right. Put up for show. Ignominiously he was passed back again. His dignity .. his manliness .. object of the enemy’s mockery. Put up for his people to remember this shame.The captain held the beam still. Faced full-front. The naked prisoner .. showing his all .. his hard-on trapped .. wet cord would tighten as the heat of his tormented body dried it out. Yannuck twitched. A touch on his rampant cock. A finger pressing down on his cockhead. The captain. Yannuck threw him a glare. His anger returned by the soldier’s smirk. And more downward pressure on his cockhead. His shaft solid, throbbing, engorged, bursting with blood. Pressed downwards. His manhood toyed with by a man. His hard-on full in everyone’s eye. The pressure kept going downwards. Down to a risky point. Yannuck could feel the trembling .. every man in that square would know the risk when a cock fully erect .. burgeoning with pulsating force .. when it got to that point .. when it was forced beyond breaking point. Yannuck could feel his heart racing. The man in him at conflict with the prince .. fearing going further .. yet bursting with the need to do his duty .. setting an example .. defying the foe.“Men. None of you fuckers out there .. none of you can do any better than this …?”The captain’s mockery sliced through the air. Mocking the people watching this humiliation of their prince. Shaming the bloodline that had claimed the right to rule.“Gonna have this .. this thing .. as your king ..? Prick like this ..?”Behind a soldier guffawed.Suddenly the captain let go. The downward pressure was gone. Yannuck felt a sense of relief. For a brief second. Then he felt the slap. The smack when his burgeoning erection slapped at his stomach. It seemed so loud that the slap broke across the square. He heard the sound of his humiliation echoing off the walls.“Lucky for you pricks .. lucky we lot came along ..saved you from being ruled by dickheads like this .”Yannuck had his head raised to the sky. Unable to face his people. Shamed that these oppressors could do this to him. He should have expected this .. if he ever got caught .. he had known they would spare him nothing.But his manhood toyed with like this .. shamed .. his people forced to look on .. Yannuck knew for the first time in his life. He felt mortified. He wanted to die. Die of shame.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞6. The blacksmithExhaustion CaptionIf the fucker thought he’d got away with it ..after refusing to whip his darling prince .. the prick had another think coming.That poser had earned himself a coin ..deserved it for his sweated efforts.Thirty across his back ..gave it all he got ..This fucking prince soon woke up ..dropped the silver spoon out of his gob.Rub salt into the wounds ..that shook the prick awake ..raked his back .. tremors of pain in his flesh.Then topped the dickhead off ..a final ten .. mean-minded as they came.So this muscle-head didn’t want to do the business, eh?Dropped the lash .. refused.Only this dickhead could command him ..only taking orders from this has-been prince ..Soon see about that ..Think he could disobey an order?The captain was ready for the dickhead ..had an eye on this asshole.Forty across his front .. suspended in the air .. Let the muscle-head try and pull a fast one ..just let him try …He didn’t give his best ..he didn’t have this princeling screaming out ..Forty? He’d get more than forty ..this muscle-head would be flayed raw.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ He stood in front. Eyeing the prisoner. Sweat coated his bare torso. Pain doused his body. Glistening over the pain-reddened skin. Bound into a shameful hard-on. He stood and caught the victim’s eye.He’d shucked off his shirt. He stood, his back to the watching crowd, whip in hand. Yannuck was exhausted. Every fibre in his body trembled with nervous exhaustion. His people looking on. His back being eaten by agonising rodents’ teeth as brine gnawed agony into his back. Every twitch, every smarting look watched by his people. Shamefully made erect, his manhood seized by his enemy and held up for humiliation and shame.Yannuck was out of his mind. With exhaustion. With agony. With shame. But there was something in the way this blacksmith held himself that arrested him. The way he stood .. the way he transfixed Yannuck with his gaze .. Yannuck did not feel afraid.The man was strongly built. Yannuck had guessed at him being a blacksmith .. he had that kind of physique. Powerful shoulders, muscular arms, a deep cleft ran down the centre of his belly holding back ridges of hardened muscle. Broad back, thickly muscled chest. Wide shoulders centred by twin slabs of work-hardened muscle, When he wielded that whip -- as he must .. as Yannuck had commanded him to .. the force would be body-crippling. Here was a foe barely without match. Yannuck had undergone a lashing from that treacherous poser. But when this blacksmith took up the lash .. when that whip lashed into his flesh, the force would blow his mind away.Yet Yannuck felt a connection. In that look .. in the midst of a supremely powerful force that was going to strike out at him .. something mysterious. Something Yannuck did not understand. His tortured brain hazy. There was .. something .. a connection. Something crazy. Illogical. Yet .. re-assuring? That was mad.“Get the fuck on with it, fuckhead.”The irritated voice of the captain spat on their air. But it could not break into the communication that was passing between the blacksmith and his intended victim. No facial expression, no words passed. Just a connection.“You want to take them for the fucker? Be my guest.”Yannuck sensed rather than saw that the blacksmith had unfurled the whip. Stood holding the handle, the deadly leather draped around his feet. There’s be no posing like that other moron. No working the crowd. The blacksmith was not playing to these oppressors.Suddenly Yannuck got a sense .. a feeling .. one of sympathy .. a flair of empathy .. irrational from a strongly-built man holding the whip-hand over him. Ordered to lash it into his burning flesh. Ordered by Yannuck himself. Rip that bludgeoning leather agonisingly into Yannuck’s exhausted body.Put him out of his misery. Where had that message come from that flashed into his head? He frowned .. he squinted into the blacksmith’s rugged face. He saw an image .. a hunter kindly finishing off a wounded deer. Like twisting the neck on a puppy in pain. That look .. from the blacksmith wielding a whip .. to his prince .. tortured by the inferno raging in his back .. shamed by the hard-on forced on him. A look born of kindness. Put the poor soul out of his misery.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞Brute violenceCaptionIt was what he did ..day-in/ day-out ..hammering away ..smashing away at resistant iron.It was how he’d made his living ..beating and bashing ..thumping and thwacking .. shaping resilient metal to his will.Since boyhood, next to his father ..at the forge .. muscles aching ..continuously hammering ..built him a powerful physique.Back bent into the blows …shoulders whiplashing brute force ..not iron .. not against the anvil ..male muscle tortured under the manded to obey ..his prince suspended off ropes ..body twisting .. in agony contorting ..Under the power of his strength ..beaten by the lash .. hammered by his force ..no body could hold in the screams.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ He was taller by a head. He was more muscular by far .. none of these soldiers could match him. Yannuck was looking at a physique honed by a lifetime of punishing hard work. Ranged against him. Holding a thick leather-brained whip. A pulverising cudgel. A whip Yannuck had ordered him to use on him. For the sake of his family.Within the first blows . doubts .. . Could he handle this? Agony. Already beaten about the back, forty strikes .. salt eating into his wounds. Bruised, aching, on fire. His manhood trapped into a god-awful aching erection. Stripped of every shred of dignity. His young man’s virility bound to serve a tyrant’s evil desires. Another strike .. the shock of the force exploded in his head. The shame of being put up for display wounded his pride. But nothing .. nothing compared to the first lashes with the whip. These first blows from the blacksmith .. took his breath away. Breaking the back of his will. The man was putting all his effort behind these blows .. as Yannuck had told him to. With a few more he knew he could not .. nothing could hold back his cries .. this onslaught was going to overpower him. Sweat ran in streams. His head heard himself yelling out. With the desperation of a wild animal caught in a trap his body was tugging at the bonds that held him down.He was still suspended, his out-spread feet a good foot off the ground. The first blow into his chest sent him reeling. Knocked backwards by the force. The beam above his head reeling and jerking awkwardly. Twisting and contorting his damaged flesh helpless underneath.Swinging back. Into the path of a body-crippling force that caught him across the belly. Snot spurted out of his nose. Every bit of wind in his body splurted out of his mouth. The force of the blow blasting up his midriff threw his bound legs up. The force of gravity threw them back, his helplessly swaying body swinging back. A slap of excruciating pain smacked into his ribcage. His eyes popped. His head exploded. Molten lava consumed his innards. Yannuck bawled.Over and over horrific pain hammered at him. Mind-blowing. Uncontrollable the pain. Throwing his suspended body into wild paroxysms of jerking and torment. Pain so excruciating he saw lights. Thrust into a world of agony of which he had never conceived. Jerking and jumping like an animal with rabies. No mind at all, out of control over his emotions, beyond any perception of control. The captain watched. Surprised by the ferocity of this attack. Feeling suddenly full of animal power. A rush of blood to his loins. Witnessing a show of mind-blowing ferocity. His forehead suddenly trickled with sweat. His loins glowed .. afire with the brutality of this manded to this task .. his prince had warned him .. threat of reprisals .. inviting this violence on his body to safeguard a blacksmith’s small kids. One good turn deserved another. From the first strike the force of his blow took his prince’s breath away. No chance to grab at air .. already the next blow smashed him across his belly. The ferocity of the force exploded out of his mouth .. the savagery of the blow popped out of his eyes. And already the third fierce blow was catching around the sides, smashing at his ribs .. lashing the victim into a dizzying spin.Thwacked .. hammered .. beaten like molten iron on the anvil. Ten .. ten blows he had promised himself .. within ten almighty strikes his prince would have passed out. Passed through the torments of a violent hell and smashed dizzily into oblivion. To feel no more.The force of the blow made Yannuck’s suspended body break, back and shoulders writhing jerkily, uncontrollably. His body was thrown by unrelenting pain. Shooting pains through every fibre. He could not remember knowing such back-breaking force, His back arched up, twisted sharply, like a twig that might snap. Mouth ripped open, bruising pain torn through his will.Beyond controlling any cries, all unstoppable .. every vicious twist intensifying the pain .. agonies throttling his body. Tripped out of control by a maelstrom of violence against him.Maybe he should stop the show, the captain wondered. The prisoner had collapsed, he was out of it. Stop this muscle-head, give the prisoner a good few buckets to revive him .. then back on with it.But it was mesmerising. The sight of this muscular thrashing machine at work was engrossing. Hypnotising. The relentless force behind each blow .. the sheer ferocity with which he hammered at this has-been royal .. the captain swallowed .. licked his lip. The rippling of perfect shoulder muscles that danced as his powerful body flowed effortless through the air .. it was a turn-on. The muscled perfection of this liquid statue .. wide shoulders .. tapering to narrow muscled waist .. free of fat .. his rippling belly tight as carved marble .. corded muscle that danced. The captain knew he was firming up in the breeches. The wildness .. the animal ferocity .. muscled savagery .. a sight that was rare .. The royal fuckhead was long since out of it .. unconscious. But suddenly there was another show in town .. worthy of a raging applause in any man’s groin.∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞7.The aftermath0127000∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞ Whip him. Flay him alive. That had been his death sentence. Lashed within an inch of his life. Then leave him. Not awarded a ruler’s death -- quick slash off the broadsword .. off with his head. Denied the warrior’s death in battle .. bravely going under the sword.Worth nothing .. worthless. Suspended off the punishment frame. Bleeding from his wounds. Weakened by pain. Spread-eagled in public. Left to die. Did these morons need any better sign? The past was done. It was dying before their eyes.Not for this lump-of-shit the criminal’s end … noose around the neck .. slowly lifted .. slowly throttled. Chilling gurgling as it struggled for its last breath. A worthless piece of shit. Weakened by pain. Flagging as exhaustion took control. Starved of food, no water. Dying slowly, dying before their eyes. Agonisingly slowly. Dying of thirst .. slowly. Rotting flesh .. weakening with starvation. The flies would hatch their eggs in festering wounds before this scum breathed its last. The crows would feast on its eyes. Claw open wounds wider as sharp beaks grubbed for flesh.Out with the old .. in with the new.First light was dawning. In the bakeries first dough was being prepared but no one was astride the streets. But no one walked the town. No one in the square. Where the tyrant’s death sentence was being carried out.No one around to spot the four guards, dead, throats cut, rolled under the platform. No one to notice the empty punishment frame The tyrant’s victim had evaporated. Spirited away.Soldiers gathered in the barrack’s yard before going out on reprisals. The disgraced soldier stripped to the waist. At the stake. His back whipped raw. Flayed down to the bone. Even a captain would be held to account. Left to rot .. a warning to them all. That poser .. that man .. the one who had really gone for the prisoner .. earned himself a captain’s golden coin .. he’d been found .. days later floating in the river. His swollen corpse tangled in fishermen’s nets.The smithy was abandoned. Closed for ever. Man and family had disappeared. Rumours were, disappeared into the forests.Into the forests where the gathering of young men was growing. From where impudent attacks surprised the tyrant’s troops. Attacked, slaughtered and then evaporated.Rumour was .. led by a young prince. The last of his line.End ................
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