(no subject)
OK, so this is *very* NSFW, fucked up somewhat, and written through numerous distractions, but I am interested to see how it came out - do please leave feedback, even if it is "you're trying too hard". I am still unsure if it was better ended before the explicit bit, but I did that with the other version and I thought I'd experiment.
The idea is basically my previous "rope, violence, cheerleaders" fic from another person's perspective.
Enjoy!
Alyssa stood next to her husband in the hallway of the mansion, resplendent in her long cream gown. Her arm rested around his waist; his was wrapped tightly about her. She took comfort from that arm, from the feeling of sameness, of continuity that came from his touch.
Their ancestors had ruled these lands for generations, and they had ruled them themselves for many years. They had been fair, or so she thought - their servants well-treated as long as they kept to their places, their estates well-managed. Life had been good - and she had been happy, happy with her husband, happy with her life and the way that things were in this peaceful corner of Mill-en.
This was how things were supposed to be, by the Teacher’s grace, and nothing could take that from the land forever. Perhaps this existence was about to change forever for her - but the forces of law would triumph, as they always did. Perhaps she faced her death here - but she would face it with dignity.
Besides, her husband still stood beside her, his pistol at his hip, and the guards had to still be stood outside the gates - her man would protect her, and surely as nobles they would at least be treated gently at the end, if it came. Surely?
“Hendrik? Karl?”
She called out to the guards she knew to be outside, perhaps for reassurance, but she’d never admit that to herself - no, she merely wanted to keep them on their toes.
“Hendrik?”
Silence.
“They left this morning, dear.”
Alyssa looked sideways to her husband, her composure broken for an instant, the surprise clearly evident on her face.
“But why? Didn’t we always treat them well? Didn’t I even pay Karl’s wife a visit when his son was born, peasant though he was?”
Her husband’s arm tightened around her.
“They couldn’t have done much here, dearest. They left because they didn’t want to die - we might at least see trial, survive to see the Revolution defeated, they would have been shot without question. I could not ask that of them.”
Alyssa shivered against his side, the reality of her predicament beginning to sink in. But she was a noble of Mill-en, and she would face what came in a manner befitting her station. The filthy revolutionaries would see what they could never be, would understand her right to rule and she would not show them a moment of fear.
Cheers sounded outside, and she recognised some of the voices crying out. This must mean they were coming - and she could understand her guards leaving their posts, just about, although it offended her at some visceral level - but these people, her people, that she had cared for and had lived with for most of her adult life - how did they dare to cheer these revolutionary scum? How did they begin to consider betraying her in this… this downright ungrateful manner?
Alyssa pulled herself together. It would do her no good if she lost her dignity already - she could deal with her ungrateful subjects later. Right now, she had to face the interlopers like the noble she was.
The heavy doors at the end of the hall creaked open, and they trooped in. Swaggering, filthy, hairy brutes, weapons carried loosely, arrogance clear upon their faces and in their wide grins.
She could smell them from here - and it was the smell that defined them the most. Harsh, pungent - the smell of sweaty men, unwashed for days. The smell of blood and darkpowder. A smell that assaulted the nostrils, that assailed the mind and marked these men for what they were - baseless, evil killers of the worst sort.
Alyssa became acutely aware of the way her husband’s side was shuddering against her. He raised his arm, pistol in a grip so tight his knuckles went white, and pointed it at the hulking brute who led the scum who had invaded her home.
“This is my home. You may come no further. Begone…”
In that moment, she felt entirely confident in what she was and why she loved this man. This was what Mill-en meant. It meant dignity, it meant the right of those who were bred for it to rule. It meant strength even in the face of overwhelming odds. It meant nobility.
The leader, the sergeant, leered towards them.
“Go on then, shoot me.”
Alyssa felt her husband tense.
“What’s the matter? Coward? Come on, shoot me. You’ve only got one shot, make it count!”
The brute took a sharp, confident step forward, arrogance clear in his every movement, in the way his brutal club was held out low before him.
It was here that Alyssa first realised that something had gone horribly wrong, as she watched her husband’s arm judder. He had only one shot, the man was right - and the ten men before her suddenly looked larger than ever.
Step.
Quiver.
Step.
Quiver.
Alyssa desperately blinked the tears from her eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This was no stand of nobility, her defiance didn’t matter here. She’d not been taught to deal with this. She felt helpless, and the thought terrified her.
Step.
Quiver.
Their arms were like vices around one another, now. Only a step or two to go, and Alyssa felt her bladder push tightly against her abdomen. Whatever it meant, she had to keep her dignity here. It was what she was. And yet it was all going so wrong…
Step.
Crunch.
Three feet of hard wood came flying around in an arc, and she felt her husband nearly thrown from his feet. She saw, horrified, the bone of his wrist crack and smash, and tasted the blood that splattered across her face and chest.
Alyssa stood still in shock, unable to move or breathe as the horror unfolded before her. She watched her husband collapse into a fetal position clutching his ruined arm, and heard his scream ring through her mind.
He’d always been strong, always protected her, always been there for her. He was her husband, he had to stop this. He had to. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be - this couldn’t be happening. And yet he crouched there before her, whimpering and clutching the tatters of his arm and she knew that he’d never protect her again, that he’d never be able to hold her and…
“Take him.”
An icy calm descended over Alyssa. She drew herself up in utter rage, taking strength from the calm and the anger as she stood to her full height before this monster.
“And as for her… tie her.”
Another soldier stepped behind her and roughly bound her hands together, the rope painful against her wrists, but she was calm again and her dignity was restored.
“Do you intend to kill us? I will face death like the daughter of noble blood that I am, and nothing that you can do can steal from me my dignity. You may win here, but our divine right under the Teacher cannot be overthrown forever. Your time will come, peasant.”
Alyssa was at the height of her rage, now, and she delivered her words with all the venom of a rattlesnake.
And the monster merely laughed.
“Right, lads, you’re due a reward, and she just asked for it. I’ll be back in an hour.”
She froze, shock evident on her features. The calm shattered, her dignity flew to the winds.
They couldn’t do this. No. No! This was unthinkable…
A rough hand tore away the front of her dress. Paws grabbed at her, pressed into her flesh. She twisted, trying to cover herself, but her head was torn backwards by her long hair and a smelly breath whispered into her ear.
“This is going to be fun.”
She pressed her legs together, but they were forced apart by strong, cruel hands, and she felt the first soldier shove himself inside her, and with that invasion she began to shriek, all dignity gone as she screamed and screamed in pain and shock and anger.
One after another they thrust themselves into her, hard and fast and brutal. Hands grabbed at her breasts, crushed them and tore at them. Hard warmth was thrust between her lips, her mouth forced open, and she gagged as she felt her throat filled with sweaty soldier. Time passed in a whirlwind of pain, shock, fear and crude thrustings as the men took their pleasure. And through it all, she screamed. Alyssa no longer, noble no longer, here she was a toy and a whore and she felt her mind slip away, hide within itself as the horror went on and on, as the men took their satisfaction from her.
And then the last of them reached into his pocket and produced a wicked dagger, and what little of her remained recoiled in horror. Not this, she couldn’t be left at the mercy of this...
He thrust the knife into her, and stretched though she was from the men who had been before this hurt more than anything she’d ever experienced. Alyssa screamed and screamed and screamed as she felt her innards torn apart, and the man just grinned and took enjoyment from it as he cut her again and again.
Alyssa lay there as the man walked away. She could feel herself bleeding to death, feel her lifeblood flow out of her, but by now she didn’t care. She wasn’t her anymore. She was a broken, bloodied shell of what she’d been and she wanted noting else but for it to end.
As she slipped into unconsciousness it came as a relief.
The idea is basically my previous "rope, violence, cheerleaders" fic from another person's perspective.
Enjoy!
Alyssa stood next to her husband in the hallway of the mansion, resplendent in her long cream gown. Her arm rested around his waist; his was wrapped tightly about her. She took comfort from that arm, from the feeling of sameness, of continuity that came from his touch.
Their ancestors had ruled these lands for generations, and they had ruled them themselves for many years. They had been fair, or so she thought - their servants well-treated as long as they kept to their places, their estates well-managed. Life had been good - and she had been happy, happy with her husband, happy with her life and the way that things were in this peaceful corner of Mill-en.
This was how things were supposed to be, by the Teacher’s grace, and nothing could take that from the land forever. Perhaps this existence was about to change forever for her - but the forces of law would triumph, as they always did. Perhaps she faced her death here - but she would face it with dignity.
Besides, her husband still stood beside her, his pistol at his hip, and the guards had to still be stood outside the gates - her man would protect her, and surely as nobles they would at least be treated gently at the end, if it came. Surely?
“Hendrik? Karl?”
She called out to the guards she knew to be outside, perhaps for reassurance, but she’d never admit that to herself - no, she merely wanted to keep them on their toes.
“Hendrik?”
Silence.
“They left this morning, dear.”
Alyssa looked sideways to her husband, her composure broken for an instant, the surprise clearly evident on her face.
“But why? Didn’t we always treat them well? Didn’t I even pay Karl’s wife a visit when his son was born, peasant though he was?”
Her husband’s arm tightened around her.
“They couldn’t have done much here, dearest. They left because they didn’t want to die - we might at least see trial, survive to see the Revolution defeated, they would have been shot without question. I could not ask that of them.”
Alyssa shivered against his side, the reality of her predicament beginning to sink in. But she was a noble of Mill-en, and she would face what came in a manner befitting her station. The filthy revolutionaries would see what they could never be, would understand her right to rule and she would not show them a moment of fear.
Cheers sounded outside, and she recognised some of the voices crying out. This must mean they were coming - and she could understand her guards leaving their posts, just about, although it offended her at some visceral level - but these people, her people, that she had cared for and had lived with for most of her adult life - how did they dare to cheer these revolutionary scum? How did they begin to consider betraying her in this… this downright ungrateful manner?
Alyssa pulled herself together. It would do her no good if she lost her dignity already - she could deal with her ungrateful subjects later. Right now, she had to face the interlopers like the noble she was.
The heavy doors at the end of the hall creaked open, and they trooped in. Swaggering, filthy, hairy brutes, weapons carried loosely, arrogance clear upon their faces and in their wide grins.
She could smell them from here - and it was the smell that defined them the most. Harsh, pungent - the smell of sweaty men, unwashed for days. The smell of blood and darkpowder. A smell that assaulted the nostrils, that assailed the mind and marked these men for what they were - baseless, evil killers of the worst sort.
Alyssa became acutely aware of the way her husband’s side was shuddering against her. He raised his arm, pistol in a grip so tight his knuckles went white, and pointed it at the hulking brute who led the scum who had invaded her home.
“This is my home. You may come no further. Begone…”
In that moment, she felt entirely confident in what she was and why she loved this man. This was what Mill-en meant. It meant dignity, it meant the right of those who were bred for it to rule. It meant strength even in the face of overwhelming odds. It meant nobility.
The leader, the sergeant, leered towards them.
“Go on then, shoot me.”
Alyssa felt her husband tense.
“What’s the matter? Coward? Come on, shoot me. You’ve only got one shot, make it count!”
The brute took a sharp, confident step forward, arrogance clear in his every movement, in the way his brutal club was held out low before him.
It was here that Alyssa first realised that something had gone horribly wrong, as she watched her husband’s arm judder. He had only one shot, the man was right - and the ten men before her suddenly looked larger than ever.
Step.
Quiver.
Step.
Quiver.
Alyssa desperately blinked the tears from her eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This was no stand of nobility, her defiance didn’t matter here. She’d not been taught to deal with this. She felt helpless, and the thought terrified her.
Step.
Quiver.
Their arms were like vices around one another, now. Only a step or two to go, and Alyssa felt her bladder push tightly against her abdomen. Whatever it meant, she had to keep her dignity here. It was what she was. And yet it was all going so wrong…
Step.
Crunch.
Three feet of hard wood came flying around in an arc, and she felt her husband nearly thrown from his feet. She saw, horrified, the bone of his wrist crack and smash, and tasted the blood that splattered across her face and chest.
Alyssa stood still in shock, unable to move or breathe as the horror unfolded before her. She watched her husband collapse into a fetal position clutching his ruined arm, and heard his scream ring through her mind.
He’d always been strong, always protected her, always been there for her. He was her husband, he had to stop this. He had to. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be - this couldn’t be happening. And yet he crouched there before her, whimpering and clutching the tatters of his arm and she knew that he’d never protect her again, that he’d never be able to hold her and…
“Take him.”
An icy calm descended over Alyssa. She drew herself up in utter rage, taking strength from the calm and the anger as she stood to her full height before this monster.
“And as for her… tie her.”
Another soldier stepped behind her and roughly bound her hands together, the rope painful against her wrists, but she was calm again and her dignity was restored.
“Do you intend to kill us? I will face death like the daughter of noble blood that I am, and nothing that you can do can steal from me my dignity. You may win here, but our divine right under the Teacher cannot be overthrown forever. Your time will come, peasant.”
Alyssa was at the height of her rage, now, and she delivered her words with all the venom of a rattlesnake.
And the monster merely laughed.
“Right, lads, you’re due a reward, and she just asked for it. I’ll be back in an hour.”
She froze, shock evident on her features. The calm shattered, her dignity flew to the winds.
They couldn’t do this. No. No! This was unthinkable…
A rough hand tore away the front of her dress. Paws grabbed at her, pressed into her flesh. She twisted, trying to cover herself, but her head was torn backwards by her long hair and a smelly breath whispered into her ear.
“This is going to be fun.”
She pressed her legs together, but they were forced apart by strong, cruel hands, and she felt the first soldier shove himself inside her, and with that invasion she began to shriek, all dignity gone as she screamed and screamed in pain and shock and anger.
One after another they thrust themselves into her, hard and fast and brutal. Hands grabbed at her breasts, crushed them and tore at them. Hard warmth was thrust between her lips, her mouth forced open, and she gagged as she felt her throat filled with sweaty soldier. Time passed in a whirlwind of pain, shock, fear and crude thrustings as the men took their pleasure. And through it all, she screamed. Alyssa no longer, noble no longer, here she was a toy and a whore and she felt her mind slip away, hide within itself as the horror went on and on, as the men took their satisfaction from her.
And then the last of them reached into his pocket and produced a wicked dagger, and what little of her remained recoiled in horror. Not this, she couldn’t be left at the mercy of this...
He thrust the knife into her, and stretched though she was from the men who had been before this hurt more than anything she’d ever experienced. Alyssa screamed and screamed and screamed as she felt her innards torn apart, and the man just grinned and took enjoyment from it as he cut her again and again.
Alyssa lay there as the man walked away. She could feel herself bleeding to death, feel her lifeblood flow out of her, but by now she didn’t care. She wasn’t her anymore. She was a broken, bloodied shell of what she’d been and she wanted noting else but for it to end.
As she slipped into unconsciousness it came as a relief.