Lie_in_Truth
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jan 6, 2007
- Posts
- 717
The dank smell of her prison no longer registered to her. In fact, not a lot of things registered in her mind anymore. She'd been here too long. She'd stopped counting the days she'd been imprisoned after she reached the three-year mark. She didn't even think they remembered who she was, or what she'd attempted to do. From the talk of the guards, it seemed as if even the war was over.
In the beginning, there had been torture. Oh, that sadistic man had been thoroughly aroused by her throaty screams of agony. She'd learned to control that after a while, and soon, he quit torturing her. After all, it was no fun if the prey didn't respond, correct? So, after being nearly broken by the pain, he quit just short of destroying her. Even though his knife was cruel, she found he had taken great pains not to mar her face; vain bastard that he was. And when he was replaced, it seemed the whole castle had completely forgotten her transgressions.
Oh, there had been attempts at her virtue. After all, she wasn't going to deny that even dirty, she was still a woman; but she bit and clawed and made sure she wasn't worth the trouble that gave her more scars for her battles. Her grey eyes were deep, sparked with silver enough to be captivating. Her short hair had grown long, down to her waist; when she'd been allowed out of shackles into a regular cell, she'd been permitted a brush to braid it out of her way. Her muscles had kept her from becoming too thin on the measly gruel called food down here, so her body remained slightly too lean, but still built in an attractive fashion. Her leather clothing was worn, ragged, and nasty, but she was thankful for it for keeping out most of the chill.
So, for years, she'd watched the goings-on of the place. She'd watched other prisoners come and go, prison guards as well, and plenty of women thrown in for the guards' pleasure...or pain. Now, it was a monotonous regular schedule of nothingness, save the meals which sometimes were forgotten for the useless prisoner.
She'd grown from the young girl she'd been to the woman who now sat on the moldy stone floor. Since loosing track of time, she forgot her own age, knowing only that she was close to five and twenty...maybe more, maybe less. It didn't matter now, did it?
And here she remained. She passed her days in silence, uttering no words to anyone anymore. The only sounds that passed through her cell were those of tortured prisoners, snorts from the guards, and the occassional squeak of mouse that scampered by. She'd already forgotten what she sounded like after her last screams had torn her throat to pieces. OH, it had healed, but she wanted the guards to keep the impression of 'mute' that came with her years of solitude. It kept them from interrogating her, now.
Now, she sat against the wall, her eyes trained on the dim wall seen through the bars keeping her inside. And she wondered, she wondered often, of what would become of her now. The firelight from the tortches flickered across her defined, aristocratic face. Oh, how she longed for a bath, even if she couldn't smell her own stench anymore. The feel of grime still affected her as she flicked a piece of peddle across the floor to hit the opposing wall outside her cell. The boredom never ceased...
In the beginning, there had been torture. Oh, that sadistic man had been thoroughly aroused by her throaty screams of agony. She'd learned to control that after a while, and soon, he quit torturing her. After all, it was no fun if the prey didn't respond, correct? So, after being nearly broken by the pain, he quit just short of destroying her. Even though his knife was cruel, she found he had taken great pains not to mar her face; vain bastard that he was. And when he was replaced, it seemed the whole castle had completely forgotten her transgressions.
Oh, there had been attempts at her virtue. After all, she wasn't going to deny that even dirty, she was still a woman; but she bit and clawed and made sure she wasn't worth the trouble that gave her more scars for her battles. Her grey eyes were deep, sparked with silver enough to be captivating. Her short hair had grown long, down to her waist; when she'd been allowed out of shackles into a regular cell, she'd been permitted a brush to braid it out of her way. Her muscles had kept her from becoming too thin on the measly gruel called food down here, so her body remained slightly too lean, but still built in an attractive fashion. Her leather clothing was worn, ragged, and nasty, but she was thankful for it for keeping out most of the chill.
So, for years, she'd watched the goings-on of the place. She'd watched other prisoners come and go, prison guards as well, and plenty of women thrown in for the guards' pleasure...or pain. Now, it was a monotonous regular schedule of nothingness, save the meals which sometimes were forgotten for the useless prisoner.
She'd grown from the young girl she'd been to the woman who now sat on the moldy stone floor. Since loosing track of time, she forgot her own age, knowing only that she was close to five and twenty...maybe more, maybe less. It didn't matter now, did it?
And here she remained. She passed her days in silence, uttering no words to anyone anymore. The only sounds that passed through her cell were those of tortured prisoners, snorts from the guards, and the occassional squeak of mouse that scampered by. She'd already forgotten what she sounded like after her last screams had torn her throat to pieces. OH, it had healed, but she wanted the guards to keep the impression of 'mute' that came with her years of solitude. It kept them from interrogating her, now.
Now, she sat against the wall, her eyes trained on the dim wall seen through the bars keeping her inside. And she wondered, she wondered often, of what would become of her now. The firelight from the tortches flickered across her defined, aristocratic face. Oh, how she longed for a bath, even if she couldn't smell her own stench anymore. The feel of grime still affected her as she flicked a piece of peddle across the floor to hit the opposing wall outside her cell. The boredom never ceased...