The Cimmerian Gladiatrix (Closed for Tanuki)

[Asobininryochan]

The Cimmerian village presented an easy target for the slavers. The Hyperboreans learned from an exile – desperate to exact retribution upon his former clan – that a war party left this settlement with only the women, the children, and the elderly. However, given the violent nature of these barbarians, a hesitant member of their group spoke up to vent his concern: “Are you sure they’ll that easy to take?”

The leader of this band looked at him with disgust. Pointing his naked sword at the coward, he answered, “You’ll go or I’ll kill you where you stand!”

Before the others possessed a chance to side with their captain or join the mutiny; a scout interrupted the commotion and drew their attention to a nearby creek, “Stop your fighting and behold the beauty bathing down there!”

Indeed, the gang immediately ceased their quarrel and spied on the nude girl washing herself. “She’ll fetch us a lot of lunas!” one declared as he licked his lips. “Fuck the Aquilonians!” retorted another, “She might be pretty enough for us to make a fortune in Shadizar!”

Now, a new problem arose as the men fought one another for the right to take her; which the leader solved by shoving the scout forward and saying: “You found her! So, you get to take her!”

Going unarmed, lest he harm the prize, the scout crept closer with great care until his boot noisily snapped a rotting branch. With surprise gone, he rushed forward to seize the girl. Thought of a heavy purse gave him courage as he faced the Cimmerian maid and yelled crudely in her native tongue, “No move… or you… dead!”

 

[Tanuki]

Rylee was the daughter of Ruarc, the clan chieftain. She had her father's unmatched skill with blade and spear, but as a female was not allowed on raids. In a foul mood, she'd awoken an hour before the men, training with her blade and climbing the Hyrkanian cliffs three times, more determined and frustrated with each trip up the treacherous wall.

Her pent up anger drained by exertion, she was bathing herself in the frigid waters of the creek, shivering slightly as the waters cooled her overheated body. Rylee was thinking about how if she'd only been born with a cock, she'd be leading the war party beside her father instead of relegated to kitchen duty and tanning leathers.

She quickly ran the wet cloth over her toned curves, for the near freezing waters would sap her energy should she dally. Rylee took some guilty satisfaction in her smooth sun-bronzed skin that hid hard toned muscles, and free of her tunic her breasts stood upright and proud, her nipples poking urgently through the mass of damp raven hair that framed her upper torso. She reached up with both hands to pull back her hair when she sensed something behind her, a noise that stood at odds with the rippling waters of the fast moving creek.

Probably an amorous boy from the village, come to sneak a peak at her 'legendary' beauty, she thought with a roll of her eyes. Nevertheless, her right hand drifted casually under the waist-deep waters to grasp the hilt of her short sword, embedded tip down in the creek bottom and hidden from sight. Rather than turn, she listened, her free hand still making motions of washing herself.

A twig snapped, and Rylee fought the urge to turn and look, instead feigning ignorance, until she heard a loud splashing and a male voice shouting, “No move… or you… dead!”

Rylee's heart leapt in alarm before her self discipline took over and she turned her head quickly, her sword arm still hidden under the frothy waters. Splashing toward her was a young male, unarmed, but . . . her stomach tightened in fear . . . he wore the light armor of a Hyperborean. Slavers! What were they doing here in Cimmeria? Everyone knew Cimmerian females made poor slaves, they would die before accepting servitude.

The scout was unarmed, and for a fleeting moment, Rylee felt regret at using her sword on an unarmed opponent, but he looked strong, and her legs were numb from the cold. The man's outstretched arms were nearly upon her when her arm flashed from the water, embedding the short sword deep in the side of his neck. The scout's eyes registered . . . surprise, and Rylee twisted out of the way to avoid his now falling body, her own eyes riveted to his. For all her training, she'd never taken a life, and she found the experience far more . . . personal than she'd imagined.

A commotion in the tree line caught her attention, and her heart sank as she saw one, two, a dozen men appearing along the edge of the creek. The dying scout was sinking into the water, and she yanked on her sword. It wouldn't budge, buried deep in bone. With panic beginning to nibble at her insides, Rylee lifted a leg out of the water and pushed with all her strength against the man's chest, but she could not remove the sword. Glancing up in alarm, she saw the slaving party advancing toward the water, and this time they were all armed. Rylee shot a look toward the small pile of clothing by the river's edge where her spear was resting against a large rock. One of the slavers picked it up, and grinned at her rubbing the shaft suggestively.

Rylee fought down the panic. What would the men do? They would charge, die a glorious death. But she was unarmed, naked, her legs felt like tree stumps. And worst of all, she wasn't certain they would kill her. Without hesitation, Rylee abandoned her trapped sword and turned, trudging through the deep water toward the opposite side as fast as she could. If she could reach the forest, she could lose them; she knew the woods like she knew her own hand.

 

[Asobininryochan]

“Drop the spear!” the leader barked to the man with the presumption to claim loot before he properly distributed them to his men. The brigand reluctantly proceeded to obey his commander; not wishing to end up like the scout who lay dead in the stream.

He then turned his attention on the Cimmerian – a she-wolf ready to tear their throats with her teeth – if need be. “Seize her!” his order came and the slavers followed without hesitation. They charged, though the coldness of the water that came up to their loins significantly slowed their progress.

One called Henrik, a veteran slave-taker that bored everyone with his bad jests, boldly blocked the frightened Cimmerian’s path to the safety of the woods. As he stood in the chest-deep, frigid water, he proclaimed in her own tongue, “Come here!” his hands motioning for Rylee to come closer as he licked his dry lips, “Let me suck on your tits, pretty one!”

 

[Tanuki]

Rylee ignored the voices and commotion behind her, focusing every bit of energy on reaching the other side of the creek. It was more of a river, she thought with growing concern, for the water was getting deeper, not shallower, as she waded across.

Somehow, one of the slavers had managed to get in front of her by jumping from a rock outcrop to land with a great splash. He was older, grizzled, with impressive leather and steel splint mail adorned with a skull in the center of his chest. His great axe looked well used, but he wore no helmet, or perhaps had removed it. She was only a naked female after all.

He spoke her tongue, better than the dead scout, and she grimaced to hear the crude words in her native tongue. Rylee mimicked him, licking her own lips as she drew within reach. Her provocative gesture perhaps threw him for a moment, for he grinned and reached for her, his axe held off to one side as if he feared to mark her with it.

Rylee rose up on her toes to get her breasts up out of the water for him to see. The moment his eyes flicked downward, she lunged, one hand reaching for the back of his head, the other for his axe. With a cry of rage, she pushed his own axe while pulling on his head, hearing the slaver scream as the sharp blade impacted just left of his nose. With one fluid motion she spun around the man as he clawed at the axe, til she was behind him. She pulled his dagger from his belt and smoothly slit his throat, watching the look of horror on a nearby slaver as a jet of blood spilled out to be swallowed by the creek. Not waiting a moment, Rylee threw the dagger at the nearest slaver, who looked stunned to find a Hyperborean blade protruding from his chest, before he slowly sank into the rushing water.

Rylee wasted no time surveying her handiwork, for she had already turned and was wading desperately for the river's edge. There were too many of them for her to handle, and they wouldn't be so careless now.

 

[Asobininryochan]

The captain of the band of slavers cursed the Cimmerian gods (especially Crom) as their prey escaped Henrik – his throat slashed wickedly by his own dagger - whose body floated past the other members of the party. He then directed another stream of insults to Morrígan when the Cimmerian maiden planted Henrik’s dagger on Otto’s chest. At least, he mused, she conveniently killed the coward that always questioned his authority.

“Don’t let her escape!” he bellowed to the Cimmerian’s pursuers. While they chased after Rylee, the leader pointed to a foreigner in their group. The Pict acknowledged the Hyperborean’s order to ready his blowgun. The renowned hunter carefully prepared his weapon as he loaded a dart impregnated with the juice of the purple lotus.

“Aim for her back!” he called out to the primitive marksman. The missile flew out of the nine-foot-long tube of river cane and pricked the flesh between Rylee’s shoulder blades. Soon, he hoped, the poison coursing through the Cimmerian’s blood will weaken her muscles and make her more easy to handle: “Make sure she doesn’t drown!”

 

[Tanuki]

Behind her, Rylee heard the cursing and shouting in the unintelligible Hyperborean language, but focused every breath on reaching the shore. The waters were getting shallower, now at her upper thighs, when suddenly she felt a sharp sting at the center of her back. Without breaking stride, she reached behind her to brush away the annoying insect, and was confused to feel a sliver of wood protruding from her back. She pulled it out and looked at it strangely before flicking it into the rushing waters.

A slaver was cutting her off from the right, so she lunged at him . . . and stumbled, falling face first into the water. Rylee was as sure-footed as a mountain wolf, so her unfamiliar fall terrified and confused her. Before she could find her footing, the slaver grabbed a fistful of her wet hair and yanked upward, drawing a cry of pain from her lips. Rylee quickly recovered, and with a fit of rage, she turned and sunk her teeth into the slaver's forearm, hearing him howl in pain, as she shot her other hand toward his neck. Perhaps it was the extended immersion in the frigid waters, but she was stunned to see the slaver catch her wrist in mid-air before she could reach his vulnerable throat. Then he twisted her head so hard that her jaw lost its grip on his forearm, and he trapped her other arm against his side.

Rylee howled in frustration and her chest heaved as she struggled against his iron grip. The man seemed impossibly strong, she couldn't even move, and fear began to eat at her as other slavers appeared beside him. Her eyes widened as she saw what must have been a Pict warrior, his skin tanned and covered in art, carrying a long reed or tube.

Fear threatened to overwhelm her, and she fought it down. "Kill me, you filthy curs!" she spat, still struggling, but her strength was abandoning her rapidly, until she could do little but hang helplessly in the slaver's grip. What were they waiting for, why didn't they slit her throat, or drown her in the river?

 

[Asobininryochan]

“No, Cimmerian,” the Raven Pict - with his hair intricately worked with black feathers, answered Rylee in her own language, “Jhil has a worse fate for you!” His laughter seemed contagious as the others joined in mocking the girl’s predicament.

“Put her down!” came the blustering command of the captain as he punched the man carelessly holding Rylee’s hair, “You’re ruining the merchandise!” Unsupported by her tormentor, the Cimmerian fell prone on the creek shore as the leader of the slavers yelled at a pair of idle Hyperboreans:

“Get the pole ready!” Then turning to another pair of laggards, he screamed, “Bind her hands and feet!” Worried that her capture ruined any prospect of surprising the rest of the village, the slaver captain pulled out his Argossean spyglass; his countenance souring as he noticed chariots heading for them.

“Quickly!” he blurted without much ceremony. “Bear her up on the pole, fools!” Transported like killed game, the slavers climbed the hillside and took a bound Rylee farther away from her people.

Of course, the captain knew that he needed to reach the Skull Gate before the girl’s clan returned from their cattle raid. He gambled that the charioteers might elect to ride around the hills – giving them a chance at reaching their homeland. Moreover, he hoped to Bori that this girl – whose dark nipples proudly stood erect in the cool air – remained pure and unsullied by man. (Otherwise, if she possessed no maidenhead, then best kill her and run for their lives!)

Abruptly stopping their miserable march, he came closer to Rylee and ran a finger along her vaginal lips. As two digits massaged the sides of her clitoral hood, a third readied to enter her passage and ascertain her virtue. While his palm rubbed the black forest of her pubic mound, the captain’s middle finger penetrated her vagina; eager to discover her intact hymen as he stated to the Cimmerian, “Let’s hope you’re still a virgin….”

 

[Tanuki]

"Crom will be displeased should you not slay me for my weakness," retorted Rylee. Her words sounded slurred to her ears, and to the slavers as well, for they shared a cruel laugh.

The apparent leader of the band shouted in his language and Rylee was suddenly released, only she found herself unable to support her own weight and crumpled to the smooth stones of the riverside. It took all her strength to lift her torso off the stones and turn her head, and her eyes widened to see two men approaching rapidly with a long wooden pole and a bundle of rope. She groaned a protest as her wrists and ankles were bound tightly to the pole, and then she was lifted off the ground like a Cimmerian boar as the two men shouldered the pole. Rylee cursed them, her voice a slurred murmur, and she had so little strength that her body simply swayed back and forth with the undulations of the pole.

They seemed anxious, and then she saw the leader looking through a long spyglass. It must be her people, they were coming for her! Rylee would revel in the slaughter as the slavers faced the fury of a dozen Cimmerian men, each of them a match for the entire slaving party. Yet as the minutes rolled on with no sign of her people, she began to have doubts. What fate awaited her she wondered. Would they kill her when they found her unsuitable for slavery? She would make sure they found no appeal in keeping her alive.

Suddenly the march stopped at a word from the captain, and she tensed as she saw him approach. His hand reached down, and sensing his goal, she made a vain attempt to close her thighs, but her muscles were completely still. And such it came as a shock to her that his touch on her womanhood set off a jumble of sensations, both unfamiliar and immediately overwhelming.

"Let's hope you're still a virgin . . ." said the man in his accented Cimmerian. Rylee let out a gasp as he touched her as no man had ever done, his skilled fingers touching a sensitive nub she hadn't known existed. When she felt his finger delve inside her tender passage, still moist and sensitive from her time in the river, a soft, humiliating cry escaped her lips before she could silence it. She could not bear to look at him, for surely he now knew the answer to his question. No man dared to touch her, the Chieftain's daughter, certainly not a filthy Hyperborean! She would kill them all for shaming her, and they would extract no more sounds from her lips with their vile touches.

 

[Asobininryochan]

Glad to find her sheathe blocked by virginal flesh, the captain withdrew his finger. On the other hand, his palm still pressed on her hardening pearl as her clitoris grew more inflamed – stimulated by the slaver’s calloused hand. Meanwhile, his ring and index fingers slid along the spaces between her large and small lips. He then gently pulled on her labia minora with both his hands; to encourage her petals to open as he addressed the men keeping her aloft: “Hang the pole between the trunks of those trees!”

As the two slavers lifted Rylee up and secured her on the branches of a pair of adjoining oaks, one careless Corinthian named Cleon went up to Rylee’s face. As he unfastened his trousers, the youth produced his phallus while pinching her nose. Forcing her mouth to open, Cleon then stuffed his penis inside her mouth as he said, “Let's see how good you are at sucking cock!”

“Idiot!” cried a rogue opposite Cleon. The Zamoran named Oleg chose a safer, but more perverse way to pleasure his manhood. Putting his erection in the Cimmerian’s armpit, he worked his shaft in and out of her underarm as he added, “You’ll get your dick bitten off!”

 

[Tanuki]

To Rylee's great relief, the captain withdrew his exploring finger, yet to her dismay, his hand remained, gently rubbing against the impossibly sensitive spot he'd found at the crest of her womanhood. Another soft gasp escaped her control as he played with the folds of her crevice, in a manner as riveting as it was unfamiliar. Rylee's insides were warming rapidly despite her revulsion to being touched by her captor, as her body betrayed her and responded eagerly to his ministrations.

The men who carried her hoisted the pole up between two trees, and one of the men, eastern by the look of him, came to her side, undoing the laces of his trousers. Rylee watched him warily, then cursed when he took her nose, pinching it closed, at the same time pulling his manhood out, and before she could react rammed it into her mouth. The foul taste of his member struck her immediately, and without thinking, she bit down with all her jaw strength, hearing the young man scream as her top and bottom teeth nearly met. Rylee jerked her head like a wolf latched onto its prey, but she still had little muscle strength, and the man fell away, his now bloody cock still intact, but unlikely to be useful for the next few days. Rylee spat out his foul taste, shooting the man a deadly glare as he cursed her, one hand on his bleeding cock and the other reaching for his sword.

"Do it!" she hissed, trying to goad him on. "If you have any manhood left, kill me now!"

 

[Asobininryochan]

The wounded Cleon nursed his injured organ while his other hand reached for his knife. “I should do it, bitch!” he threatened Rylee as the other members of the slaving band jeered at his afflicted organ.

Meanwhile, Oleg moved away from Rylee – his tentigo still warm from rubbing against the Cimmerian’s vulnerable armpit – and unsheathed his short sword. “You better let me cut it off before it festers!” the Zamoran exclaimed facetiously while trying to hold back the tears coming out of his eyes.

“Enough!” pronounced the captain to his men. Immediately, the derisive mocking of Cleon’s lacerated cock ceased as he proceeded, “Put away your weapon, Cleon! You deserved it!”

While continuing to toy with Rylee’s vulva, the leader of the Hyperboreans slowly exposed his manhood and lubricated his hardening surgation with her juices. “However,” he said to the Cimmerian as the head of his penis moved along the vestibule of her vagina, “you harmed a member of my band and deserve to be punished!”

Instead of her loins, he entered her rear. The glans penis pushed past her sphincter and penetrated deeper; followed by the rest of his phallus until his tawny-colored pubic hair brushed against her raven-haired mons. While he enjoyed her struggles, even encouraging her defiance by manually stimulating her clitoris – swollen and sticking out of her hood – he wanted some cooperation in order to finish his business. Pinching her inflamed nub forcefully (in order to receive her complete attention) he then said to Rylee: “Give in or I’ll make it worse for you!”

 

[Tanuki]

Rylee glared in fury at the young fool as he drew his knife, willing him to use it to end her humiliation, but sharp words from the captain seemed to dash any hope of relief in that manner. Rylee noticed her muscles seemed to have recovered a slight bit of their strength, for her body was moving on its own in response to the captain's never ending torment of her poor womanhood. She wished her insides had been numbed as well, for the burning in her loins was reaching a fever pitch, and she felt flushed and overheated, unable to comprehend why her body was responding so eagerly to this bastard's hand. While she prayed to Crom he would stop tormenting her, there was a growing feeling of anticipation in her enflamed sheath, and she shook her head in confusion.

The appearance of his turgid cock made her gasp, as her body flamed high at the sight. Is this what her twitching furnace desired, to be impaled by his male shaft, in front of all these men? Impossible! He spoke of punishing her, as he slid his hot member along her opening, and Rylee glared at him as he wiped her juices on his cock, as if to bring attention to her state. Then to her horror, she felt his cock move against her other opening, and she shook her head, "No!" But he was already pushing himself inside her shameful place. Rylee's mouth fell open in shock and she cried out in pain, for it was the most uncomfortable sensation she'd ever experienced. She couldn't stop herself from struggling, but in her weakened state she was helpless to stop him from inserting himself all the way. Even worse, her every movement seemed to make the uncomfortable sensations worse, so she forced herself to be still, a task exceedingly difficult when he pinched that nub of fire he seemed so enamored of. Each little tweak made her hips jerk in response, which in turn made the presence of his cock in her ass somehow enhance her arousal, and it was a cruel circle that she quickly found overwhelming. Rylee had trained to fight men with sword and spear, and her hands and teeth, but she had no defense against this manner of attack. She was ready give in, but knew not how.

 

[Asobininryochan]

“Good…” the captain clumsily mouthed as he lunged his manhood into Rylee’s bowels. “You fuck better than most virgins,” he commented, or perhaps, complimented the Cimmerian as he supported his groaning body on her bound and upraised legs.

At the same time, he stroked Rylee’s engorged clitoris like an erect cock while his other hand played with her puffy labia. “Keep it up,” he barely made his last statement audible to the Cimmerian’s ears, “I’m almost there…”

As the Hyperborean captain sodomized Rylee’s formerly unspoilt ass; a jubilant Cleon (his bloody cock still tenderly ministered by one hand while the other raised a fist in approbation) cheered for his commander: “Give it to her, boss….”

He then promptly fell forward and the other men in the slaving group screamed in horror as they saw the back of his head – crushed like an egg and pooling with blood! “Ambush! Defend yourselves!” yelled the survivors as sling stones fell on their camp.

While those with shields or screened by cover took shelter from the stones (and the occasional lead shot) the Hyperborean slaver fucking Rylee’s bottom promptly withdrew his enraged prick and replaced his member in his trousers. “We’ll have to finish this another time,” he declared to the Cimmerian maid as he singlehandedly lifted the pole affixed to her wrists and ankles.

During his flight, he looked back to see some of his slavers attempting to fight off their attackers. Unluckily for them, none of the slingers chose to meet them in open combat, and they died from a hail of well-struck missiles. “Get up and run!” he screamed to his cohorts, “It’s time for us to fly once more!”

 

[Tanuki]

Rylee moaned in misery at the slaver's compliment, and she continued to struggle against the fire his neverending touches were stoking inside her. His stroking in and out of her tender ass only made her womanhood more sensitive to his manipulations.

"No!" she thought as he goaded her on, approaching his own release. She could not bear the shame of his seed inside her ass.

"Give it to her, boss!" yelled the Easterner with the damaged cock, and she vowed to finish that one off given the opportunity. Then her eyes narrowed, for she heard the telltale whistling sound before the first stone split open the Easterner's head like a melon. It was her people, shepherds perhaps!

Rylee cried out when the slaver withdrew himself from her body and redid his pants, before hoisting her up painfully on his shoulder. She snapped her head forward to try to catch his elbow in her teeth, but she was still weak, and her snapping jaws just fell short. Her hands and feet ached as she was bounced along by the jogging slaver, who kept yelling back to his men. Without the burden of having to run, Rylee watched with glee as one slaver after another fell to a hail of artillery. When she caught up with those shepherd boys she would give them each a kiss!

 

[Asobininryochan]

Warmed by the naked flesh of his Cimmerian captive, the Hyperborean also sweated because of his headlong escape from the slingers that still picked off the stragglers from his company of slavers. The captain’s damp back felt the intimate curves of her body, which made bearing her weight all the more agreeable as he bellowed, “Into the tree line!”

He hoped the ones assaulting them with those wickedly aimed stones and bullets might find the pines a significant obstacle. Indeed, he sensed the trunk that guarded him shudder from the blows of those missiles. Meanwhile, as he unburdened his back and placed Rylee against the fir bole, the Hyperborean commander told his survivors, “Get ready! They might come in after us!”

Unsheathing his sword and resting the weapon next to a root; the Hyperborean stood the pole erect so that the center of the Cimmerian’s body straddled the length of smoothened yew. With Rylee’s anus lewdly presented to the captain, he once again undid his trousers. As he pulled his still erect penis, the slaver kissed her back while one of his hands guided his tool to her back door.

“Where were we?” he asked as the head pushed inside her body. The Hyperborean shook with rapture as he rammed more of his organ into Rylee’s rectum. His groin pressed snugly next to the globes of the Cimmerian’s buttocks, he thrust deeply into her tight exit.

Simultaneously, while one hand reached around to fondle the virgin’s taut breast, the other sought the opening located within the dark forest of her bush. The yew pole placed underneath her vulva dripped of her essence as Rylee’s clitoris ground against the wooden shaft. When the Hyperborean’s digits made her labia bloom - by working the area separating her small and large lips – she went into greater ecstasy as her captor’s lunges pushed her repeatedly into the pole that kept her pudenda in a constant state of arousal.

“They’re coming, captain!” shouted Oleg as he prepared to engage an enemy armed with an axe. Enraged by his opponent’s inability to grant him the courtesy of ejaculating in the Cimmerian’s rear end, the Hyperborean abruptly pulled out of Rylee as he screamed to the other slavers, “Kill them all!”

(Unbeknownst to her foreign persecutor, the act of sodomizing Rylee loosened her bonds. The ropes attaching the Cimmerian maiden to the pole felt slack; giving her a chance at freedom, and perhaps, an opportunity to aid her rescuers.)

 

[Tanuki]

Rylee noticed while she bounced along on the back of the muscular slaver, that her bindings seem to have loosened a bit. She focused on trying to wriggle her wrists, noting with relief that her strength seemed to be returning rapidly. The captain stopped when they reached the safety of the trees, and placed the pole upright against a tree, her naked body straddling the length of yew. She craned her neck to see what he was doing, and watched as he turned to direct his men, who were running full speed toward the trees, some of them bloody and bruised. She marveled at the accuracy of her compatriots, as a flying missile took down another slaver running at full speed.

Her attention was drawn to the captain as he withdrew his sword, and she watched him warily, but he had no intention to harm her, he simply rested the weapon against a tree. Then she tensed as she saw him undo his trousers and pulled out his still erect cock. "No!" she croaked, her throat dry as he leaned forward to kiss her bare back, one hand coming to her hip. He meant to finish what he started, and she marveled how a man could be so focused on his own urges while his men were being slain in battle.

Rylee let out a tortured cry when he inserted his now dry organ into her still sore anus. She moaned in misery when his hand came to her dangling breast, and the other sought out her still moist womanhood. His thrusting ground her poor sensitive crevice into the wooden pole, and she groaned at the pleasurable sensations as her body responded to his crude use. She squirmed helplessly as his fingers teased and spread her slickened lower lips, while she struggled to keep silent, loath to give him the satisfaction of hearing her moan. With each thrust, her hips trembled and her thighs reflexively clutched the pole, which was growing slick with her juices. She felt her body's heat rising to a fever pitch, and she bit her lip and tried to fight the impending wall of pleasure that was overcoming the pain she felt.

Savior came again as the captain was forced to withdraw from her as the battle grew too close for comfort. Panting, she hung against the pole for a moment, before regaining her sense of purpose. With the captain's back turned, she focused anew on the bindings on her hands. They had grown looser, and her feet could now move a bit as well! The release of tension brought a flood of painful tingling in her hands and feet, and she bit down a cry of pain, instead working her wrists back and forth, while pulling her legs in opposite directions, with all her growing strength.

She heard behind her the clash of wood on steel. The foolish Cimmerian boys must have been engaging the slavers hand to hand, with only their shepherd's staffs. She had to help them! With a cry of anger, her hands came loose, and she fell over backwards with her feet still bound to the heavy pole. She quickly leaned down and worked her ankles from the bindings. One of the slavers spotted her, and turned to come after her, a wicked grin on his face as he swung his sword in a circle and approached. From the look in his eyes, he meant to kill her. Perhaps she'd killed one too many of his friends.

Rylee stayed crouched low as the warrior approached cautiously this time. The pole was much heavier than the spears she was used to, so she gripped it in both hands near the center to balance the weight. She waited til the warrior was closer, and then she lunged, both legs coiled under her, the pole extended low off the ground toward her enemy. The warrior swung his sword in a downward arc, but before he could deflect it, the flat end of the pole struck him just below his belly, and he doubled over, vomiting as he clutched his precious jewels. Rylee spun the pole completely around in a high arc and cracked the other end down on the back of his head, already turning to face the next slaver as the first one collapsed to the ground. She heard the footfalls before she saw him, and she crouched low, planting the end of the pole in the ground, directing the other end into the onrushing slaver. The pole caught him in the belly, and she used his speed to lift him off the ground, sending him flying over her head to crash into the trunk of a tree.

Suddenly powerful arms came around her chest and pinned her arms to her sides. She turned her head with a growl to see the handsome face of the Hyperborean captain. He didn't look amused. Rylee raised her right leg and jammed it down on his foot, but with bare feet, she succeeded only in making him grunt with pain. She cried out in rage, snapping her head at his bare upper arm, her teeth sinking into his flesh. She heard him curse in pain, and she bit down harder, hoping to take a piece of him with her.

 

[Asobininryochan]

Having cut down a Cimmerian that tried skewering him with an aged spear, the captain turned to see several of his men sprawled on the forest floor. The culprit – the maiden that refused to play her role as submissive captive – elicited a roar of vexation from the Hyperborean. Ignoring an arrow that narrowly missed his head, he dropped his bloody blade and trapped Rylee in the circumference of his brawny arms.

“Calm down, bitch!” he exclaimed when the Cimmerian bit into his shoulder. Risking further retaliation, the Hyperborean freed one of his hands and drew a dagger from his sword belt. Tainted with the juice of the Purple Lotus, the edge grazed Rylee’s soft skin and produced a line of blood across her previously unblemished stomach.

As the poison worked through her bloodstream, the captain felt her enormous strength fading to the point where he felt confident in loosening his grip on her naked body. While the furious skirmish with the Cimmerians continued, he tied her wrist and ankles with a single length of rope, allowing him to carry Rylee over his shoulders.

After lifting Rylee and balancing the warrior maiden on his back, the Hyperborean cursed when a Cimmerian forced him to use his poisoned dagger – gutting the boy before he succeeded with depriving him of his only prize from this miserable raid. “You’re costing me a lot of money,” he muttered to Rylee as he attempted to collect the remnants of his party, “To me, you bastards!”

 

[Tanuki]

Rylee was so focused on trying to bite off a chunk of the Hyperborean's arm, that she didn't see what he was doing until she felt a burning fire cut across her bare belly. She screamed with the realization that he had killed her, slit her open, and she would die a horrible slow death from a stomach wound. Then she looked down, and cursed her foolishness, for there was hardly any blood, he'd only scratched her. She felt a strange feeling of gratefulness toward the captain, a thought that she pounded into oblivion with rage as she turned in his one-handed grip and reached for his exposed neck.

Her wrist was suddenly grabbed in what felt like iron, but was the captain's hand, he then grabbed her other wrist with the same hand, lifting both her arms above her head. Rylee thrashed her body, trying to loosen his grip, vaguely aware that with her naked body, she was putting on a display for the lustful male. In no time at all, she felt the strength fade from her body, and her mouth fell open in surprise as she hung in his powerful grip, glaring when she saw his eyes slowly move down her naked curves, his lips pulling back in a grin. The dagger must have been laced with the same poison, she realized, cursing him for his dirty fighting. Then he pulled her to him, taking a hard, deep kiss that made her thighs squeeze together to ward off the explosion of heat his kiss triggered inside her. His free hand came to her ass, and pulled her hips against his crotch, where she could feel his hardness through his leather trousers. She moaned into his mouth as her body reacted wetly, as if preparing itself for his manhood. Her anger turned to desperation as she was so weak, he took everything he wanted, enjoying her body's unwilling response. Finally he broke it off, letting her fall to the ground in a heap as he reached in his pack for a length of rope.

Rylee was fully aware, but helpless to do anything, as he bound her wrists and ankles with a soft slaver's rope and hoisted her onto his back. No! thought Rylee, unable to speak, as she watched a young shepherd die before her eyes. Her insides burned with anger. For that, she vowed she would kill the Hyperborean bastard with her bare hands.

 

[Asobininryochan]

Her scent filled his nostrils as Rylee’s perspiring body drenched the Hyperborean captain. He too strained under her weight while dashing through the woods. Arrows and bullets thudded against pine boles as the slaver dodged the missiles directed at the Hyperborean.

Thankfully, his restraints remained secure as the Cimmerian feebly attempted to liberate herself from his bonds. The hands holding onto the Cimmerian slipped down her limbs as he descended the forested terrain. Placing his sweaty palm on a tree trunk for support, the Hyperborean turned back to survey the situation.

Only a fraction of his men managed to leave the forest. Some of the shepherds entertained the slaver’s taunts and fought them on the open field. They proceeded to die while the more prudent ones pelted the slavers with their last sling stones.

The taste of Rylee’s salty skin revived his senses as his lips brushed her naked thigh. The soft hairs on her limb stroked his cheek as he avenged himself by biting into the firm flesh of the Cimmerian’s leg, “That’s what you get for biting me, bitch!”

With the surviving shepherds declining to battle the slavers, the captain shouted to his band, “We’re almost home, boys!” Pointing to the Skull Gate he urged his fellow slavers to run for the Hyperborean border. Furthermore, as he looked over Rylee’s buttocks, he noticed clouds of dust on the horizon.

“Fucking chariots!” he swore as he turned to look down on the Cimmerian’s face. “You must be somebody important,” he remarked to Rylee while savoring the feeling of her heaving chest on his back. His attention back to his men, he yelled, “Make for the Skull Gate! Don’t let these bastards run you over!”

 

[Tanuki]

Rylee cursed the poison for making her so helpless, as she bounced against the captain's body as he trudged through the dense woods. She fought her bonds but simply had no strength. At least her belly seemed to have stopped bleeding, as it was only a scratch. Rylee lifted her head, watching the stragglers running through the forest, noting with grim satisfaction that the slavers' numbers had greatly been reduced.

“That’s what you get for biting me, bitch!”

She cried out when she felt his teeth bite into her thigh. "Release me, Northerner, and we shall see who is the groveling dog!" she spat. Deep down, she felt some reservation at taunting the man, for he'd already shown himself to be a cruel master. But she couldn't stop herself, defiance flowed through her Cimmerian veins. Then her eyes narrowed for she saw the Skull Gate looming on a hill to their left. She could not read the Hyperborean inscription, but she knew what it said:

The Gate of Hyperborea Is The Gate of Death
To Those Who Come Hither Without Leave

Then her mood turned up, as she heard the familiar rumble of Cimmerian chariots. The men were coming for her!

“Fucking chariots!” swore the captain. “You must be somebody important." Rylee said nothing, but she was right. To retrieve the chieftain's daughter, they would follow his small band even into Hyperborea. She would turn them back if she could, she had no wish for more of her countrymen to die for her. But they would not listen.

 

[Asobininryochan]

From his brow streamed sweat that fell from his face and head - the tiring captain of the Hyperborean slavers took his hand to wipe away the perspiration that fogged his eyes. He knew that the Skull Gate offered little protection from the determined Cimmerians. Looking around the pass, he remembered a narrow path that led to a foreboding place.

“Come!” he told his men, even though they tired of running, with some contemplating the idea of facing the charioteers. While a sound plan, given the restricted space; he opted to guide his comrades to a route that took them higher into the Graaskal Mountains, “They won’t dare follow us where we’re going!”

Indeed, he balked at this gamble, the Mistress of the Valley of the Red Lotus – a Vanir exile by the name of Helga – controlled her subjects through the use of a powerful narcotic: the extract of the aforementioned Red Lotus, which turned the strongest of individuals into mindless slaves, craving only carnal pleasure.

By sunset, the band settled on a clearing. They dared light a fire to fend off the cold (and worse things that might come in the night). As the captain put Rylee down on the hard ground, he asked the following of a survivor: “Do you still have those iron manacles?”

“Why… yes,” remarked the blonde named Erik. Giving his commander the restraints, the captain then turned his attention to the Pict, “Do you still have any Purple Lotus?”

“Yes,” he simply replied, amused that they carried out this conversation entirely in Cimmerian. Handing the chief slaver one of his darts, the Hyperborean promptly jabbed Rylee on her shoulder. “This is to keep you from hurting yourself,” he added with some wry humor.

Once he knew the toxin had properly sedated the Cimmerian, he freed Rylee of her rope restraints; only to shackle her in chains that cuffed her wrists and ankles in bands of iron. “This is to keep you from doing something stupid,” he offhandedly mentioned to the helpless girl.

Afterwards, he spun around to address the other slavers. “Men,” he began while gazing into the eyes of each survivor. “This girl has cost us dearly…” he paused as they answered in unison: “Yeah!”

“So how do we make her redress our losses?” he questioned his followers. The group gave disparate answers: “We should kill her!” said one, but another retorted, “She should pay with her body!” On the other hand, someone argued for patience and added, “We should take her to Shadizar… as planned… but we must keep her pure… in order to get the most gold!”

As the debate threatened to devolve into infighting, the captain unexpectedly turned to Rylee and asked, “So what do you think?” he queried while lifting the enfeebled Cimmerian. Taking Rylee to a gnarled tree that grew at the edge of the clearing, he hooked the chain that hung in between her wrists to a branch that caused her to barely stand on her toes. With her buttocks prominently displayed to the slavers, the captain caressed each of her cheeks as he posed another question to the Cimmerian, “How would you like to right your wrongs?”

“Don’t be shy,” he whispered when she failed to respond quickly, “I know your body knows the answer…” At the same time, he played with her clitoris. Stoking the fires in her loins by teasing the nub of flesh, he also inflamed her desire by rubbing her inner lips. Moreover, he pinched one of her erect nipples as he felt her body tensing towards an inevitable climax….

 

[Tanuki]

Rylee felt a bit of relief as she watched the slavers deviate and head up into the mountains where the chariots could not follow. She did not wish the men of her clan to die needlessly fighting the entire nation of Hyperborea, better that they turn back after losing the slavers. They traveled some distance, after which she could no longer hear or see the pursuing chariots. It was a grueling hike up the mountain, until finally the men settled down for the night, lighting a risky fire, for which Rylee was grateful as she shivered in the cold, too proud to ask for clothing.

Her eyes narrowed when she heard them talking of the Purple Lotus. That must have been what they were using to drug her. Moments later, the captain jabbed her in the arm, as she shot him a look that spoke of her ever growing desire to kill him. “This is to keep you from hurting yourself,” said the Hyperborean, but she didn't think he was funny. Within minutes, Rylee felt the strength draining from her limbs. When the captain cut off her ropes, she stretched, rubbing her arms. Then he took her wrists so he could bind them in manacles. She tested her strength and found his grip on her wrists felt like iron. Perhaps he'd given her a light dose, for she could still move, but she could tell she lacked the strength to attack.

As the men discussed her fate, Rylee felt fear welling up in her belly, resisting all efforts to surpress it. Without realizing it, she pulled in her knees and clutched them with her arms, still shivering slightly from the cold, the fire a bit too distant to fully warm her. They were going to take her use, and not just the captain, or they were going to kill her, or both. The more time she had to ponder what they would do to her, the more anxious she became.

“We should take her to Shadizar… as planned… but we must keep her pure… in order to get the most gold!” spoke one of the men. Rylee's eyebrows raised slightly. As long as she was with these men, with the Purple Lotus, and their newfound respect for her lethality, she didn't stand a chance of escaping. But in a slave camp? She stood a chance there. But if she were bespoiled by several men, the camp might not want her, and she'd end up on the side of the trail with her throat cut.

Suddenly the captain turned to her and asked her what she thought. He then lifted her up to hang from a branch by the chain between her wrists, her body stretched taut as her toes barely touched the ground. Rylee twisted as she hung, trying to lift herself, but she lacked the strength to even get off the ground. The captain said “How would you like to right your wrongs?” as he stroked her ass cheeks, making her face redden as she saw the other slavers staring at her naked form.

“Don’t be shy,” whispered the captain. “I know your body knows the answer…” Then his fingers came to her, and she gasped, her body responding quickly as he rekindled her heat, which seemed to be laying dormant from before. Her mouth hung open as his fingers teased her quivering nub, and a moan escaped her lips when he firmly squeezed her turgid nipple. When he didn't let go, instead continued squeezing, she became panicked and finally broke her silence.

"Please stop!" she cried, squirming helplessly as she dangled from the tree. "I will answer!" she pleaded. Thankfully, the captain removed his fingers from her breast, but his other hand continued to lazily stroke a circle around her lower lips, causing her hips to jerk each time he grazed her poor swollen nub. She struggled to form coherent thoughts as his skilled fingers took her very soul from her.

"I . . . I think you would be smart to sell me to--ohh!" she cried out, as he interrupted her with a pinch to her clit. Rylee fought down the surge of pleasure that threatened to make her lose all control. She would have to choose her words carefully. "You would take pleasure in my use, but that would be fleeting. Think of the gold you would receive if I were . . . pure." She looked at him, to see if he was giving it any thought, and his expression said she'd have to do a lot more than that. Rylee's tone turned a bit more desperate. They were going to rape her and kill her if she couldn't convince them to do otherwise. "I . . . a Cimmerian female would be a rare find for a slave auction!" she pleaded. She was rewarded with a long squeeze of her nipple, making her let out a soft cry. HIs neverending teasing of her now damp lower lips was driving her mad, and she felt her thighs clenching reflexively as her body moved toward an unbidden climax. She shook her head, not wanting to be shamed in such a way, in full display for all the men. Her body's eager responses seemed to be driving their lust, she could see they wanted her, and were going to take her, however they wanted. And then they would kill her. There would be no honor in such a death. And she wanted to live!

"Please, don't kill me, let me . . . service your needs . . . with my lips . . . and tongue!" she burst finally, her eyes cast downward at having to say the words, and her cheeks reddened in shame. Her father would be disgusted at her weakness. "You can . . . still get the best price for me, while I . . . atone for your losses as best i can . . ."

 

[Asobininryochan]

“As your leader,” the Hyperborean announced to his men while his hands unhooked her chain from the tall branch and secured it to a lower bough, “I volunteer to verify our prisoner’s sincerity.” The pungent scent of her aroused sex – mixed with the intoxicating aroma that exuded from her armpits – quickly stiffened the captain’s organ. He deftly pulled out his penis and offered the organ to the Cimmerian as he pressed the glans urgently against her lips: “Let’s see how good of a fellatrix you are…”

Meanwhile, some of the men resented their leader’s decision to inaugurate the festivities. They expressed collective dissent by calling out, “No fair! We should draw lots to see who goes first!”

However, Oleg (who miraculously survived their latest encounter with the Cimmerians) countered: “Let the captain go first! Remember what happened to Cleon! We need to make sure she holds true to her bargain!”

The memory of their fallen comrade – injured while attempting to force Rylee to perform fellatio quieted their rancor. Seeing her reluctance, the Hyperborean kneeled to address the maiden face to face. As his hands fondled her vulva and teased her bosom; he whispered to the Cimmerian as his slick fingers ran through the dark growth of hair underneath her arms: “You better start sucking,” he explained as his slippery hands traced circles around the areolae surrounding her nipples.

“My men are getting restless,” he continued as the captain stood again and placed the tip of his cock before Rylee’s mouth. “If you don’t keep your promise,” he declared while smearing her lips with his pre-cum, “I’m sure my men will not care about keeping your virtue intact.”

 

[Tanuki]

When the captain lowered her to waist level and pulled out his cock, which amazingly was hard again, Rylee realized what she had negotiated. She would have to service one or more of these men, with all of them watching. The task seemed more daunting than anything she'd encountered in her life, and she briefly started to panic, contemplating backtracking. But that would likely result in dire consequences - the captain was not the forgiving type, she could see that.

Rylee blushed when he pressed his swollen cock head to her lips. “Let’s see how good of a fellatrix you are…” She didn't know what that word meant, but she could guess. When the men started arguing over who got her first, her embarrassment only increased. Suddenly the captain knelt down, and she looked into his rather piercing eyes and not unpleasant face. She gasped as he began teasing her with his hands, and closed her eyes at her body's eager enflamed response. If only she could control her reactions, but the bastard seemed to know her body too well.

“My men are getting restless,” he said, standing again and presenting her with the object of her previous torment. “If you don’t keep your promise, I’m sure my men will not care about keeping your virtue intact.”

That motivated Rylee into action, and with a soft cry of dismay, she parted her lips and tentatively surrendered to the unfamiliar taste of a man's organ. With her arms suspended above her, she could do little but swing back and forth, and whether by her movement or his, suddenly she felt his swollen cock push all the way in til it moved against and filled the back of her throat. Rylee coughed in panic at the strange sensation of having her airway filled, and she recoiled, his cock sliding back out all the way to flop wetly against her cheek. The captain barked an angry order, and she quickly aimed her head, taking him in again before he would do something to punish her. This time she was ready, and she smoothly took him in to the hilt and back again. She could taste his male seed - it was not as unpleasant as she imagined, and she used her tongue to explore the end of his head, before taking him in deeply again, noting how he reacted to whatever she did.

Rylee couldn't see his face, but she could hear any sounds he made. Her only hope at survival was to please him, and she focused on doing just that. Men seemed to desire the tight opening of a virgin, so she gripped him tightly with her lips as she slid slowly back and forth on his shaft. Rylee tried to ignore the voices of the other men, for she was surely quite a sight for their eyes, bound and naked, her mouth filled as she serviced their captain in the must humiliating fashion. Strangely enough, the thought of what the men were seeing served to enflame the heat in her belly, and she made a soft sound of protest as her body betrayed her.

 

[Asobininryochan]

Her virgin mouth – forced to take the length of his member – hesitated, which forced the Hyperborean to push her head towards his groin. “You need to go all the way,” he admonished the Cimmerian maiden as he pressed her nose against his pubic hair.

He chuckled when Rylee choked on his fully sheathed cock. “Breathe through your nose,” he instructed the kneeling Cimmerian as he guided her by placing one of his hands on the back of her head, “and relax your throat.”

The captain then tickled one of her armpits as he steered her orifice. After removing his fingers from the moist black-hair that her sweat impregnated with her sweet scent; the slaver scraped his fingernails across her sensitive skin. Beads of sweat trickled down her bosom as he lightly scratched the edge of her nipples.

Unexpectedly, the Hyperborean suddenly pinched her engorged tit. When she spat out his manhood, he let Rylee know his disappointment. “Put my dick back into your dirty mouth, bitch!” he growled as he put more pressure on her nipple. (He gladly released his hold when the Cimmerian resumed her fellatio.)

His phallus throbbed as he squirted some of his seed onto the girl’s tongue. Pleased by her increasing proficiency, he let Rylee withdraw to permit her to savor more of his ejaculating essence:

“You’re getting better at this, bitch,” he complimented the Cimmerian as Rylee’s mouth suddenly tightened around his shaft. This single act destroyed his discipline and he deposited the rest of his stored semen inside her orifice. As the maiden simultaneously shook in a series of powerful paroxysms; the Hyperborean continued educating the cumming Cimmerian:

“Open your mouth!” he commanded Rylee as he pulled his softening prick out of her wet mouth. After giving his organ several tugs to revive his erection, he brushed the head of his virile member along her underarms. Once he finished toweling his spit-drenched cockhead (leaking with sperm) on her sultry armpits, he shoved his shaft back into her opening.

“Taste how excited you were, slut!” he exclaimed as he ran his glans penis down the length of her tongue. “Look at your cunt!” the Hyperborean proclaimed as continued feeding Rylee his soiled sex, “She’s all soaked from sucking off my tool!”

The other slavers cheered their captain he grabbed hold of her damp hair and vigorously fucked her orifice in a quick succession of sharp thrusts. Before he lost control and spent his cream inside her drooling mouth, the Hyperborean unsheathed his cock so that Rylee might answer his question, “Would you like me to plant my seed in your womb, Cimmerian?”