Tortured Maidens

CAUTION: There is no sex in this story. It is strictly a story about the abduction and torment of innocent young women and what happens as a result of this abuse.

"Well, Mistress Daphne," the scion of the resident lord gloated to his beautiful prisoner. "How do you like our accommodations so far?" Even as he taunted her, he tightened the leather bonds that held her wrists against her simple harness.

He didn't really expect an answer. The thick leather bit that had been wedged into Daphne's mouth would keep her from saying anything, but it wouldn't keep her from expressing the pain she was feeling, and she would start doing that in a few minutes. Wilberforce, the only son of Lord Peabody looked again on the naked body of his prisoner. As a high-born Englishman, he considered Daphne O'Conner and the rest of the Irish in that village to be little better than the pigs her father raised. He did, however, have to admit she was possessed of a beautiful face, with her long, blonde hair, creamy complexion and eyes that reminded him of the sky on a summer day.

It was her succulent body, however, that had first caught his attention. He had seen her bending over to crank water up from the well, and had observed how her ass filled out the fabric of her long skirt. When she responded to his command to turn around, he had also noted how her breasts strained against her simple linen blouse. She would be, he decided, attractive enough to be allowed the honor of spending the night with him, after his servants had washed and perfumed her hair and body.

"I'd rather give myself to my father's pigs," was how the maiden responded to his offer to permit her to come back to his father's castle so she could be prepared to share his bed.

Wilberforce could have struck her dead on the spot, or ordered his bodyguard to kill her, and he would have felt justified in doing so at such a display of disrespect toward her betters. However, there were townsmen around, and such an action might have caused some of them to forget their place also. They might have even worked up courage enough to try to do something about it, so he thought better of the idea. He was accompanied by only one armed man, instead of the six members of his personal English Guard he usually rode with, but he swore to himself he would return with the rest of the company and teach the bitch her true place.

Less than hour later, he kept his vow. He and his six minions returned to where he had been rebuffed by the pig farmer's daughter. She wasn't hard to find; she was watering the livestock when the seven men dismounted and surrounded her. Quickly overcoming Daphne's futile attempts at resistance, they bound her hands and feet, slung her across the extra horse they had brought and took her back to the castle of Lord Peabody. At least a dozen people of the town saw the abduction, but none could do anything, and none dared to voice any complaint, at least not aloud, to any of the Englishmen.

"Take her to the stable," Wilberforce directed his henchmen, and they smiled at the thought of what would ensue there. They were all aware of what a beauty she was, and how much pleasure they would all take in her body before finally casting her out, if they ever did that at all.

As the dissolute young nobleman gleefully watched, the six men tied the helpless Daphne to a pillar and ripped off her clothing, leaving her wearing nothing but her shoes. As they divested her of the last shreds, the men stroked her luscious breasts and ass. Once their master had tired of raping her, it would be their turn but, for the time being, they would have to settle for fondling her and the woman who was tied to another pillar in the stable.

The other Irish woman, a raven-haired beauty from the village, was named Pegeen. She had been there since the previous night, after failing to show proper respect for one of the English men-at-arms. Her punishment had already been decided, but it had been necessary to bring in another woman to share it. That would be Daphne's fate, at least that day, followed by repeated sexual abuse by many men, with nobody sure just when that part of her torment would end.

"Bring in the harness-master," Wilberforce commanded.

Two of the men left and came back with the man in question, helping him carry the tolls of his trade and the leather items that he would be putting on the hapless young captives.

"Outfit the black-haired wench first," the scion of the castle ordered him.

As Daphne watched, horrified, the harness master went to work. She had seen a few other women rigged up in that kind of gear, usually petty criminals who had been convicted in the court Lord Peabody held periodically. She prayed that would not be what befell her that day, but feared that it would. The harness was a collection of belts, the widest around Pegeen's waist, another above her bare breasts and the most narrow one around her neck like a collar. A strap went over either of her shoulders from the leather band above her breasts, and they were buckled to that same strap between her shoulder-blades. While fastening the harness in place, the man took whatever liberties he pleased with Pegeen, who was helpless to prevent it.

The three horizontal belts passed through another strap which ran down her back, and was the widest and heaviest of all. The ends of the three belts were tightly buckled together behind the brunette's back. That vertical strap also had a pair of restraints attached, one on either side near its lower end, and these were used to tightly secure Pegeen's wrists in place behind her back. When he was finished binding her with the heavy leather restraints, the beautiful young brunette would be able to walk or run, but would be unable to use her arms or hands.

As dehumanizing as the harness was, worse was still to come. "Open your mouth!" commanded the harness master, holding a strange device in front of Pegeen's face.

What he had in his hands was another strip of leather, its ends thinner than the others, while the center was a thick leather cylinder, with an iron ring extending from either end. When his intended victim refused to open her mouth for him, the harness master, accustomed to such reluctance, pulled a metal pry bar from his workman's apron.

"If you don't open your mouth for the bit, I'll pry it open, and break some of your teeth while I'm at it," he threatened her.

Knowing that further refusal would only make things worse, Pegeen opened her mouth. The bit was jammed between her teeth, and the attached belt was buckled at the back of her head. The harness master was aware that his patron liked to see the manes of his ponygirls blowing in the wind, so he pushed the young woman's hair out of the way, so the belt was buckled tightly against Pegeen's neck. His last task was to fasten reins to the rings on the ends of the bit and drape them over her shoulders. With the first ponygirl prepared, he turned his attentions to the second of that day's victims. Daphne also knew that resistance or refusal would be pointless and would probably result in worse injury, so she docilely allowed herself to be trussed up, even opening her mouth to accommodate the disgusting leather bit. With his work finished, the harness master left the stable.

Wilberforce approached his harnessed and bitted ponygirls, to gloat at their predicaments, especially that of Daphne, and to taunt her, while roughly pinching her breasts and squeezing her ass. "I'll be doing a lot more than this to you tonight in my bed," he informed her. "But, first, I'm going to take a little ride around town."

At his signal, two of the men wheeled out the heavy two-wheeled cart. It was designed to be drawn by a brace of horses, but Wilberforce preferred to ride in it while it was pulled by young, naked women. He considered it to be his right, as the heir to Lord Peabody, to order anybody from the town to do anything he wanted them to do, and that included acting as beasts of burden and sex partners for his pleasure or that of anybody he designated. Because of the heavily armed guard that always accompanied him when riding in the cart, nobody had ever dared do anything about the excesses he committed.

"Hitch up my fillies," he ordered his men jovially. "Put the blonde on the right."

They rushed to obey and, minutes later, the two women were secured to the center rail of the heavy cart. With Pegeen securely tied to the left side of the rail and Daphne on the right, Wilberforce donned the round hat he favored when riding and took his seat. While gazing lustfully at the beautiful naked women, he grasped the ends of both sets of reins and picked up the carriage whip from the socket by his right hand. He intended to use it on the woman who had scorned and insulted him more than on the other one, but both young women would get a substantial taste of the leather. "Giddyup!" he shouted, simultaneously slashing Daphne across her right hip. She tried to scream at the searing pain, but could only make an incoherent noise. Seconds later, he swung the whip backhandedly at Pegeen, inflicting the same agony on her and raising a bright red welt on the fair skin of her side.

His victims started forward, but not quickly enough for the cruel young man with the whip. His next slash cracked across Daphne's upper arm and, from the way her body jerked, he thought he had struck her breast, maybe even her nipple, with the end of his instrument. For no good reason except that he enjoyed it, he laid the braided leather hard across her shapely ass three more times before she and her teammate had even finished pulling the cart from the stable out to the road. Her suffering was already almost unbearable, but Daphne knew it would get worse, unless she and the other woman pulled the cart the way he wanted them to.

The thoroughfare was rutted and the cart was heavy, and the victimized brace of women had an extremely hard time pulling it. Their plight was made worse by the whip that landed repeatedly, whenever and wherever their driver felt like striking them, but he liked to concentrate on their curvaceous thighs and asses. Their suffering was made even worse by the astonished stares of the townspeople as they struggled by, nude and pulling the man on the cart, accompanied by six armed horsemen. Both Daphne and Pegeen recognized some of the people, and felt even more humiliated to be seen in such a state, stark naked and hitched to a cart like common animals.

The villagers saw them too, and were surprised and angered. The residents of the town were aware that female criminals, after being convicted in the English lord's court, were sometimes sentenced to be treated in that humiliating and degrading way. They didn't like the cruelty and degradation that was inflicted on them, but everybody had always been afraid to make any complaint. "After all," they usually justified such a draconian sentence. "Those women are no more than criminals, and probably deserve to be punished."

This time, however, was different. Pegeen and Daphne were both known to be fine, upstanding young women, modest and demure, and of high moral character. Nobody had ever said a word against their honor or chastity or uttered any negative thing about them. They were both regular attendees at the Catholic Church, even though such attendance was frowned on by their foreign overlords. Both women were betrothed to honorable young men, and all those who knew them were confident they would lose their respective maidenheads on their wedding nights, and no sooner. There was muttering, by everybody who saw the abuse being heaped on the young innocents, that they could not possibly have done anything to merit such dreadful treatment. Even so, the company of horsemen who accompanied the scion of the lord were armed with swords and pikes and maces, and nobody dared question what was happening, or do any more than express their displeasure to each other.

If Wilberforce heard them at all, he chose to ignore their complaints. He was having too much fun looking at the lovely bare bodies of his ponygirls, and whipping them wherever he pleased. He was also looking forward to that night, when they would be tied to his bed and he would take his pleasure with them in a more carnal way. He didn't know if the two women were virgins or not, but he hoped so, because their deflowering would add to his perverse delight. The welts and stripes he was raising on his victims were giving him enjoyment then, and they would give him even more when the helpless women lay on their backs, in even greater agony from their wounds being pressed against the bed, with him on top of them.

However erotically pleasant the ride through town had been, the young nobleman began to grow slightly bored, and he knew it was close to his dinner time. He yanked on the reins to direct the team of ponygirls to turn back toward the castle. As they did, he continued using his whip, especially when they stumbled, as they had begun doing, whether from fatigue or from pain he didn't know, nor did he care. The blonde wench still had one of her shoes on, but the other bitch had lost both of hers, so their feet were probably hurting too. He didn't care about that either, as long as he had his fun.

His fun continued to be staring lustfully at the two sexy naked bodies and whipping them while they struggled to pull him in the cart. By the time they reached the castle again, the backs and arms and legs and asses of both ponygirls were crisscrossed with welts, some of them oozing blood. On the way back to the castle, he hadn't seen as many of the townspeople as he might have expected, but Wilberforce didn't think anything of that. His contempt for the Irish people of that town was so great that he considered none of the men to have any value, and the women to be equally worthless, except as sexual playthings for his father and himself and their men.

"Tie the bitches up again," he ordered his men. "After they've been washed and perfumed, I'll have them brought to my bed." Having immensely enjoyed himself at their expense, he left the stable to wash the dust from his face and to dress for dinner.

His men obeyed his orders with great alacrity, once again taking as many liberties with the lush bodies of their helpless captives as they dared. They were aware that the young nobleman would tire of the wenches in a few days, and they would then be free to do to them whatever they pleased. Until that time, however, they would have to limit themselves to fondling and stroking them. With their assignment finished and the women securely tied to the pillars, they left for their own quarters.

A few hours passed, while Pegeen and Daphne stood in misery, still wearing the degrading harnesses and bits and tied to the same pillars in the stable. Both their bodies were masses of agony from the terrible whippings they had sustained, and both of them feared that an even worse fate still faced them, when the evil son of Lord Peabody decided to take the suffering women to his bedchamber and deflower them. When the door opened, and two people bearing lanterns entered, their terror multiplied.

They needn't have been afraid. Two women entered, and Daphne recognized them as her mother and that of Pegeen. Both mothers carried sheets, in which they gently enfolded the abused nude bodies of their daughters. When both women were decently covered, two young men entered. Excitement, followed by guilt and shame flooded Daphne's body when she recognized Dennis, her beloved fiancé. The other stalwart she knew to be the betrothed of Pegeen, and both men, brandishing knives, strode quickly to the sides of their intended brides.

"My poor darling," Dennis murmured to her. He wanted to embrace her and hold her against his chest to try to absorb some of the excruciating pain he knew she must have been feeling, but he had to avoid putting any pressure on any of the multitude of wounds. Instead, he used his knife to cut through the leather thongs holding Daphne to the pillar and those binding her wrists to the harness, while the same respite was being given to Pegeen. The two older women helped their pain-wracked daughters to stand, and started to lead them from the evil place where they had been held in cruel servitude.

"What about the soldiers?" Daphne asked her beloved.

"The Sassenach? All dead. Without their armor, their fine metal swords and pikes were no match for our Irish slings and stones from the side of the road. Tomorrow we will dig a deep hole and bury them all. But first, we shall take the evil lord and his foul spawn from their own dungeon, where we have them chained to the wall. We're going to hang them, by their necks until they choke to death, before throwing them into the bottom of that burial pit."

Dennis eyed the beam that connected the pillar where Daphne had been tied and the one that had held Pegeen. "That rafter looks like the perfect place for them to hang from while they choke out their last breaths. It would be a fine and fitting end to the sons of Cromwell."

Thank you for reading this story. I hope you enjoyed it a lot more than Daphne and Pegeen did. I like writing stories on Literotica, but I like it a lot more when I know that people are reading and enjoying them, and I appreciate it when readers take the time to express their opinions by voting. Like most authors on Literotica, I practically live for feedback from readers, either public comments or email to me. Such feedback, whether praise or criticism, helps me to write more and better stories, usually about men and women having fun sex together, and I respond to it whenever I can.