Two Stories

Posted by blue.beard on October 09, 20010 at 23:29:33:

These two stories are by the same author, but I do not remember who wrote them or even where I picked them up. A hint to all writers, always put your name on your stories.

Enjoy

THE CHERRY TREE

Devid,
How are things at the officer’s school? Well I hope. The summer finds me well also except for the usual rigors of patrolling in the heat and the wilds. The expanded proscriptions against slavery are keeping us busy. We catch a slave coffle about every three or four days instead of every two weeks like we used to. Two reasons for the change, one is that there are just move slaves moving and the other is the coffles are much smaller. The slavers are trying to sneak the smaller groups through hoping that they will not leave as much sign and that the total losses will be smaller. Too soon to tell if its working but we are getting more slaves than ever so I doubt it is.
You know that there are two classes of slaves under the law, voluntary and involuntary and that voluntary slaves are held to be aiding slavery and therefore subject to the punishments thereof. Where we used to see both kinds in the same coffle, now they are separated. The involuntary slaves still travel with chains on their collars and under guard while those who have chosen slavery travel with only a guide and a guard or two to protect them from everyday dangers on the trail. They also wear the collar but otherwise are free. This makes very easy for us to free those who were taken against their will and to punish those who entered slavery willingly. Let me tell you of the action we took against one such coffle. Perhaps you might learn something that will aid you when you too will join in the patrols.
We cut the trail late one afternoon. My tracker led the way long enough to figure out the path they were following. With scouts and flankers out [it is not unheard of for traps to be set for our patrols after all] we followed until the tracker guessed we were less that a half an hour behind. Because it was getting dark and we knew they would stop to camp we too stopped and sent scouts forward. As we figured they had stopped and were setting up camp for the night. It was a coffle made up of voluntary slaves with a guide, a cook/ muleskinner, and three guards. The place that they stopped was both defensible and easy to escape from so I decided not to attack until later. I knew the trail and there was a narrow place some distance down the way. Leaving a few men to keep watch I took the rest of my command around the place the coffle had stopped and went on ahead to prepare.
I placed half of my force to block the trail and the others were located on each side with a few to close off the path behind. The ones following the coffle would be too far back to be of any immediate use but would be able to help close off the back trail within a few minutes. Remember Devid when you are in command your men are a family and you should never fight fair. To do so only risks your men. Use stealth, cunning, guile, numbers, surprise, and anything else you can to quickly overwhelm your enemies and to save your men as much as possible. We were up against three armed men, two women that might or might not fight and seven young teenaged girls who most likely would resist but not seriously. I had a well-armed and armored troop of twenty four fighters that were experienced and trained. Not a fair match but I was unwilling to risk the injury of a single man so I stacked the deck as much as I could.
The ambush went just as I had planned. We blocked the trail and demanded the surrender of all. The guards charged the blocking force at once while the women and girls tried to scatter and flee. All to naught, the guards were cut down at once before they could do any damage and the others were swept up neatly. It was all over in seconds except for the screaming. With the battle over it was time to judge and punish.
Have you yet learned to use the truth stones? Study them well and become well versed in their use for they are what you base your actions and judgments on when it is time for you to separate the guilty from the victims. If you use them well and wisely you can condemn to death the guilty with an easy mind knowing you have judged well.
The stones led us to the truth and from there to judgments. The wounded guards were hire swords that had often guarded coffles and thus were doomed. The guide and the muleskinner were ex slaves that worked for one of the larger slave gangs in the southern lands. They too were doomed. The girls [for they were too young to be called women] were virgins traveling north to become bed slaves in the sea princes’ realm. Their doom was also certain but it still bothers me. The knowingly sold themselves into slavery and thus earned the punishments but I know also of the conditions in the southlands. When your family is starving it becomes understandable how one might take up the slave collar willingly. Understanding and sympathy aside I had a duty to punish them and I did so in the hope that if enough of them are caught and punished others will no longer be willing to risk it.
The men were already wounded badly enough to make their living doubtful so it was unnecessary to torture them as the law requires. Instead we simply disemboweled them and left them to die in a pile of their own guts. The lucky ones would die before the wild dogs found them. The guide and the muleskinner were stripped. As they were still not ugly and ruined I allowed my men to use them as they saw fit. You must understand we had been out a long time so I relaxed my normal rules a bit. When they had been taken by all that wished they were impaled in the anus and left for the carrion birds. A night and a day should see them dead.
The seven virgins were not touched beyond being stripped and lightly whipped. Had they been older and not virgin I might have let the men take them also but knowing why they had ended up here I decided to spare them as much as I could. Each one was taken to a nearby tree that had large spreading limbs and one at a time they were noosed and hanged. Number one was a pretty redhead. Just nubile and still carrying her baby fat she cried and sobbed as we placed the noose around her neck. She was hauled up and tied off. The small round breasts bounced in time with her kicks as she fought for her life. Her heavy body quickly tightened the noose and within a few minutes she was hanging limply.
The second one was a thin girl that had a cute face but was just budding. She still had a boy’s body except for the small swelling of her nipples. Knowing she was too light to allow the noose to kill her cleanly I arranged for her ankles to be tied to a handy rood before she was hauled up to her death. The ropes were tight as she strangled in their embrace. With her feet unable to kick her fight was one of bending and twisting. Think of her as being caught in the middle of a bowstring with each limb of the bow pulling her. Her suffering did not last long. A brief period of struggle and then the stream of piss and the sudden stillness announced her death. Sister to the second was the third. Shocked and stunned by the death of her baby sister she stood still as we placed the killing rope around her slender neck. She too was thin but unlike her sister she was fully developed. She had large firm breasts that shook and bobbed with her convolutions as she died next to her sister. It took a long time for her to finally still her struggles.
The forth was a large girl, well muscled with very nice legs. Handsome rather that pretty she was also perhaps the bravest. She stood tall and proud as we prepared to kill her. At first she hung still and let the rope strangle her without a fight. One minute and then two she hung with her body held stiffly, then her body overpowered her will and she fought. The hard muscled fit body was not going without a fight and it tortured her for endless minutes before it too lost the battle and finally allowed her to slip away into the darkness. Five and six were just typical city slum girls, not quite ugly but with little to fire a man I figured they were bought to warm the beds in a cheap inn somewhere.
They each fought and screamed as their lives ended, living just long enough to suffer mightily before dying.
The last was different. She was one of those rare girls that combine a beautiful face with a body that men dream of, more than that she also was brave, a girl that any man would be proud to father or marry. I was going to kill her. Then she asked a boon of me.
“Sir I know I have broken the laws of your land and because of that I will forfeit my life. This I am ready to do but first hear me out. I was the only child of a widow woman and we were facing the loss of everything. I was promised a prince if I only would sign the papers. The money would keep my mother alive and in her home until the day she died. I thought the bargain to be a good one. Now I am here facing death, so be it. To save my mother is worth my life but kind sir I do not wish to die a virgin. I was promised a prince but perhaps the captain of fighting men is a worthy replacement for a prince. I judge you to be a good man that tries to carry out a difficult task as well as he can and one that does not cause pain without good reason. Therefore I wish for you to take me over to the soft grass and allow me to feel the pleasure or sharing my body with a good man. Please Kind Sir, will you grant the dying wish of a young girl?”
I tell you this Devid, any man that could hear that plea and not respond would have to be stone. I could not tell her no even if part of me was stone hard. I lead her to the grass she had pointed out and spread my cloak for her to lie upon. By the time I was disrobed none of my men were in sight. Somehow they all decided this was a private thing that they need not witness. I have not had a woman since your mother died two years ago and here I was about to lay with a virgin before I hanged her. Does death follow me everywhere?
We sat and just talked for a few minutes. Her name was Lilkia; she was the only child of a small merchant in a smaller village somewhere south. Her father had been killed by bandits and everything stolen. Now she was here waiting for the man who would kill her to first make love to her. We started with a chaste kiss, which quickly became something more. Soon we were lost in each other’s bodies. Although a virgin and thus unknowledgeable about the arts of love, she more than made up for her lack with sheer effort. Her skin was soft and firm with her youth, the breasts proud and firm, so sensitive to my kisses. Kisses that soon trailed down her flat belly to the center of her being. At first she knew not what I was doing and it was needful for me to use a little force to allow me that which I wished. Then as my tongue and lips kissed the virgin slit she realized I was trying to pleasure her in a way that was unknown to her.
She was overwhelmed by the sensations coning from her womanhood just as I was lost in the taste of her, in the wonderful softness of her slit. Her hips bucked and tossed under my kisses. Before long she was shaking and crying in the throes of her first orgasm. When she subsided I was pulled by to kiss her mouth. Unfazed by the juices smeared on my face she rained kiss after kiss on me. Spurred on by her pleas to take her now, I did so. Already wet and open from my efforts she allowed my rigid member to slide easily into her body until the way was blocked by her hymen. A sudden thrust parted it and allowed my cock to fully enter her. She gave a small cry of pain at the intrusion but within seconds she was moving against me. We loved each other long and well before our mutual orgasms blended into one earth-shattering climax. A long period of gentleness followed before I fell out of her. We both knew it was almost over and neither of us wanted to face that which was next. Once more she surprised me.
“Good Sir is it possible for me to ask one further favor of you? I have no wish to die hanging for all to see. Is some other method of death possible? Better yet is there some way I can die still feeling you inside of me as I die. I know I have no right to ask but could you in your mercy find a way. Also Good Kind Sir know that a captain is better that a prince."
I was without speech as I walked away from her and for a minute she was afraid I was going to spurn her request. What I was doing was recovering one of the strangling cords we use on sentries. She saw it and at once knew what it was for. I ever so gently ran it under her neck and passed one end over the throat before puling it under the back of her neck again. The wooden handles lay on the ground one on either side of her head. We kissed some more and our bodies responded to each other’s touch afresh. Before long I was able to enter her for the last time. This time the passion was soft and muted but still we forgot everything except our loving. It was oh so good and lasted a long time.
Then I felt myself losing control. My need grew until I could no longer hold back. Once more our bodies arched in climax but this time as we exploded the soft cork around her tender neck was being pulled tight by my hands. I watched as her eyes darted around in panic. I felt her body twist and buck under mine. The frantic movements of her inner muscles spurred on my climax. Ever tighter I pulled the cord and the ending of her movements at last rewarded me. The panic in her eyes faded into a look of peace as she went limp. Then I felt the stream of piss leave her and wash over both of us as she died.
When it was over I hung her body next to the others and dressed myself. As we were preparing to leave one of the men remarked to another one that it liked like she was smiling. As we left the scene I stopped to look at our handiwork. She hung slowly twisting and was the only one whose face was not contorted by her death. I watched as the light and shadows played over her beautiful face. I could indeed see what looked like the trace of a small smile. Perhaps, just perhaps she died happy.
Your father
Hayrold

SILKEN CORD

Execution

Her eyes sought out the post as she climbed the steps. It was in the center of the platform, waist high and smooth. She was led to it and when there she knelt. The wood was warm from the sun and felt almost erotic as her bare breasts separated around it. Ropes tied her to it, one around her knees and one around her upper body. Her hands were tied to her ankles. Her head was free with the top of the post ending just below the hollow of her throat. She eagerly looked around. If it was the last time she would ever see anything she wanted to see everything.
Her sentence was read by the herald. Not long now. For some reason she was not troubled by what her actions had earned her. Death was not scary to her. Instead she was regretting those things she would miss out on by dying. A lover, she had never known the touch of a lover. She would die virgin and unkissed. Children, never would she feel the pain and joy of childbirth, of watching her children grow. The change of seasons, the smell after a summer's shower, the warm breezes of spring. Nothing in her future but a shroud and cold dirt.
Then steps behind her. A soft silken cord around her neck. A soft whisper in her ear telling her to exhale and hold it as long as she could stand. Her last breath left her lungs and she resisted the urge for just one more as long as she could. Then when the urge overpowered her and she tried to inhale the cord changed into a thing of steel as strong hands pulled it tight. The air that was to enter her was shut out as her throat collapsed. Her pulse pounded in her ears as her heart continued to force the blood past the strangling cord. Then as he pulled it ever tighter even that stilled. Her body had attempted to move back to evade the silk but the ropes and the post prevented most of her attempts. Her head went back and her body arched as much as it could. Her pubic mound slammed into the post and her fine pussy hair further polished the place where others had worn the wood to a shine. She held that position for a while, stiff with tensed muscles and shaking with useless effort. Then she sagged back. Her body lost the stiffness as the cord did its work. He still held it tight but he could feel the life running out of her. Her mouth gaped open as her eyes rolled back into her head. Then there was one last effort, a final spasm that emptied the last of her reserves and left her limp and still. His helper held the cord from slipping as it was tied tight, forever to stay around her neck in that last embrace. She was untied and her small forever stilled body was left laying there for the night. By morning when the men came for her to bury she was no longer virgin and many of the boys of the city had played with her in one way or another. And not just boys, some men and even a couple of women had touched her cooling body or satisfied their lusts with her. But it was of no importance, she was dead and soon would be buried and forgotten my most.