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Ashlyn swiped at a lock of hair that clung persistently across her sweat soaked brow. The day was hot and sticky and her work here made it all the more grueling. Her corse cotton gown felt heavy and cumbersome, the shade of brown darkened where the water of her labors had soaked through it. She bent over again, her small but calloused fingers gripping at the fence post she was attempting to pull from the ground. She pulled with all her might, the tendons in her neck standing out as if she were a pretty but ill used plow horse. The post slid out of the ground another few inches, then the piece she had in her hands broke off, and she tumbled back with a small shriek of frustration.

"The Devil take this worm rotted fence and my Da' along wi' it" She cursed as she lay back against the ground panting, her disturbed skirts revealed shapely long legs beneath the shapeless dress she wore.

Ashlyn was immediately overcome with guilt for her words and closed her eyes with thoughts of what Father Thomas of the village would say of her blasphemous thoughts. The girl was obviously a peasant, no lady would be sent at such a mean task. In fact it was unusual for a young girl to be out doing this sort of work as it was. However, these were hard times and her father was cursed only to have daughters. A fact that of late he was feeling keenly as he struggled to keep up with the local Baron's heavy taxes on their fief. Her father had gone from a loving and doting man to a short tempered fiend who drank a bit too much and used his switch on the girls with little provocation. The fact that he had sent his favorite girl, his red haired beauty of a daughter who had a shape that had the boys from the village sniffing around often, on such a masculine task as pulling old fence poles bespoke greatly of his desperate state of mind. She heaved a heavy sigh as she got back to her feet and again began tugging at the post wishing that the last mule hadn't died in the winter this year.


The sun had fallen in the sky before Ashlyn dared begin walking back to her home. She knew if she came before dark with the task incomplete she would likely face the switch across her very sore bottom. In fact, every part of her body was sore and achy from the days labor. Her face was streaked with tears from when she had finally given in and cried. Her hands were a jungle of splinters and cuts. As she crested the hill she was almost too tired to notice that something was wrong. Indeed it took her a moment to stop her stumbling trudge forward. The small and broken hut that her father, mother and two younger sisters lived in was ablaze! The sky lit with the unnatural light of the fire and in the glow she could see the devilish silhouettes of armed men on horses riding about the disaster! She let out a cry and ran forward instinctively. However, as she neared the inferno, she stopped, and ducked back behind some scrubby brush.

She had seen something that terrified her. There was a body on the ground near the front door that could be no one but her father. More shocking than that, her mother was on the ground as well, laying on top of a pile of washing that had spilled into the dirt. One of the soldiers was on top of her and she was screaming. Ashlyn's mind swam with confusion. Her first thought had told her that the cottage had caught on fire by accident and the Baron's men were helping to put out the blaze. Her innocent mind slowly grasped the fact that the Baron's men had set the blaze themselves. She lay there face down in the dirt, panting and trying to make herself small. She heard the sobs from her mother as the soldier violated the woman. She peeked her head around unwilling to watch but unable to help herself. Her mother was an older women who was pretty and petite. In her days she had been quite the village beauty. Now years of hard work made her look older than her age. The man was on top of her, fully dressed in his armor except his cod piece which had been pushed aside. Her mothers corse dress had been ripped to the waist, her tattered corset slit open baring her white heavy breasts. The man grunted as he savagely thrust against the woman's upraised skirts. His hands roughly pinched and kneaded the woman's heavy tits. Her head was thrown back and every time the man griped her breasts and slammed his body forward into her she screamed out her agony.

"That's it you slut, yelp for me like a bitch in heat!" the man said with a cold leer that chilled Ashlyn's blood.

She had never felt so terrified in her life. Her lips and fingers tingled and her blood pounded in her ears. As she watched she slowly became aware that the men were no longer circling the burning shack and were instead gathered in front watching the soldier who was thrusting again and again into her mother. A couple of them were fingering their own crotches and watching with an intensity that made Ashlyn's stomach turn. One however kept looking around and scanning the hills. He was the largest of the men by far and the best dressed. His armor was trimmed in what Ashlyn could only guess to be gold, and he wore a fine red cloak that billowed back over the flanks of the black steed that he was mounted upon. Beside the horse was a large hunting hound, an Irish wolfhound.

One of the men dismounted his horse and approached Ashlyn's mother as the other strained and grunted letting out a final hard thrust and a howl of pleasure. Her mother just lay there now, whimpering and shuddering, and didn't even try to get away as the next man mounted her. Ashlyn felt a strangled sob rise in her own throat and muffled her own cry with her hand. At that moment the wolfhound's head perked up and it gazed strait toward Ashlyn's hiding place. Ashlyn froze, she knew that hounds were sight hunters and she wished no notice to be taken of her hiding place. To her horror the dog let out a long bark and bolted strait toward her. The girl's terror overwhelmed her and she bolted upright and tore up the hill away from the oncoming beast. Of course her speed was nothing to match the powerful animal and she was very quickly overtaken. She fell forward against the earth painfully as the powerful dog landed on her back and shoulders. Ashlyn let a hysterical moan out as she felt the powerful jaws of the wolfhound griping around the back of her neck.

"HOLD!" A deep and commanding voice rang out behind her. The hound's jaws relaxed a bit, but he laid his whole body down over her small frame, effectively pining her to the dry earth.

"I am going to order Titus to release you. When I do so you will stand and turn and face me and make no further effort to run. If you do attempt to run I will run my sword strait through you and leave you cold and dead on these moors. I have already gone through enough trouble this evening to locate the eldest daughter of this little hovel." The man's voice was deep and full of anger and contempt. The very sound of his words made shivers of fear slide down Ashlyn's spine.

"Titus RELEASE!"

Ashlyn felt the dog immediately let her go and move his weight from her. She lay there for a moment her breasts still crushed into the hard earth. She could feel the blood from a split lip dribbling down her chin. Her normally vibrant red hair was matted and caked with dust from the fall. She stood before the mounted man with her head down. She fixed her gaze on his black leather riding boots.

"Well, I have to say that this is a disappointment. I was lead to believe that you were a great beauty. What I see before me is a shapeless slip of a dirty peasant! I will tell you girl that you are responsible for all the trouble down there. Your father was quite irreparably behind on his taxes. My head tax collector informed me that the man's eldest daughter was quite the beauty. Having grown tired of my previous tart I decided that having you as a replacement would be quite the solution. Unfortunately your father was rather bull-headed about it and refused to tell me where you might be. His insolence and your absence caused me to have to damage a perfectly good cottage. Well it is of no matter, I will get work and compensation from you anyway. You may work in my room at the castle as a chamber maid in repair of your father's debts. Bring your grubby little hands up here now my dear."

Ashlyn gaped at the man. This man had destroyed her home, killed her family, and up heaved her life to gain a chamber maid?! Looking at him closer she could see who he was. She had only seen him a handful of times before, when he lead a troop of men through the village on occasion. This was the Baron Stephan DeMark the 2nd. He had dark hair, a very intimidating muscular frame, and deep blue eyes that looked almost kind. His attractive face would normally have made a young girl like Ashlyn feel warm and flustered. As it was, his kind eyes only made her more angry and confused with this sudden change in her life.

"Please M'Lord, let me go to the village and spare my mother further torment! I am begging you, we have done nothing to deserve this treatment! We work hard for your land and your household! Plea..." Her words were cut short as the powerful man slid from his mount and backhanded her. Her head rocked back and her teeth clicked together harshly. Without further discussion he jerked her hands out in front of her and roughly bound her with a corse fiber rope. Her head throbbed and dark spots obscured her vision as he re-mounted, and gave her a sharp tug forward as he lead his horse into a brisk walk. She stumbled and fell once and was drug several meters before she was able to stumble back to her feet. Her dress was torn and her legs scratched and bleeding.

Finally the torture and stress became too much for the girl. She passed out and was dragged for only a moment when Stephan stopped his mount with a curse. He felt quite the idiot for going through all of this trouble to capture such an ugly slave. Now the little chit had passed out. He slid again from his mount and picked her up. As he did so he ripped her bodice down the front more from frustration than interest. As the cloth was ripped away a pair of full, round, and very pert breasts were exposed. Unlike the rest of the girls bruised, dirty, and misused skin her breasts were soft and white. The nipples were hard from the chill night air and a lovely shade of delicate pink. He ran his large hands over them and was pleased by the firm youth he felt there. It made him reconsider and grasp her chin, tilting her face toward him. Perhaps... he thought... this adventure wasn't such a loss after all. If the girl were cleaned and allowed to heal perhaps she would indeed be tolerably attractive. Those rounds breasts and large nipples of hers were certainly making his groin stir to life.

Stephan mounted his horse dragging her up in front of him. As he did so he reached beneath the tattered remains of her skirt and ripped aside her worn knickers. His large fingers probed gently between her lips caressing the soft wisps of hair that covered her pussy. She was dry as a bone, but as his index finger slid over her little nub she let a small moan and shifted a bit in her sleep. His finger slid further back toward her opening and he was intrigued to feel the warmth and wetness that had slowly begun to form there. He slid his digit into her slightly and was excited at the slick tightness of this opening of hers. Experimentally he slipped his finger deeper into her and was pleased to find a barrier inside of her that resisted further exploration. He withdrew his hand, wiping his moist finger in her hair to clean it of her fluids.

"Well my little peasant girl, it appears you haven't been pierced yet by some over eager village lout. Perhaps with some cleaning you will be quite amusing to me yet!" He muttered as he wrapped one strong arm around her waist and urged his horse into a gallop toward his castle.

(To be continued...)
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