She can still hear the first scream that pierced through the afternoon and ended their peaceful day.
Otillia was in the middle of fetching water from the village's fountain when several men in horses showed up at the square and started to wreck havoc. One jumped from his horse to slay their baker and another threw a flaming torch to a house. People began to scream and seek shelter.
She dropped the bucket and ran back home with all her might.
"Aunt! Uncle!" She calls desperately. "There are raiders!"
Her relatives and only family heared that and froze for a minute before being woken by the screams of the neighbours. Otillia didn't see her cousins anywhere, so they were probably still out of town. Her aunt immediately started to pack their belongings while her uncle seemingly opened a trapdoor on the floor she had never noticed. It's just been a single season since she started living here, anyway, her parents passing away from a plague in their own home in the north.
As her aunt seemingly ended packing everything, their door was kicked open and they all screamed. A big burglar, with a beard and a rough eyepatch adorning his face, entered the house with heavy steps and a sword to his hand.
"Now," he said with a oily grin. "what do we have here?"
Otillia was frozen like a statue until she was pushed to the floor by someone, seemingly her aunt. She looked up in shock.
"The girl and a bag of silver." She said coldly. "In exchange of not burning the house and letting us go."
The girl went livid.
"Aunt!" She cried feeling betrayed. The assailant raised an eyebrow.
"Are you giving your own blood to save your skin? Truly deplorable." He snorted. "I accept."
The older woman didn't wait to drop the bag of silver coins and turn on her heels to get in the secret passage, uncle having left a long time ago.
Otillia didn't have the time to look away as the bandit stepped over her and pierced the back of her betrayer in one swift movement, her screams and blood painting the floor enough to give her nightmares for ages.
"Some family you have, kid." The villain said with the same oily smile, before dragging her by the arm and making her stand up.
Outside, their humble village was being destroyed to the ground, the smoke burning at her eyes and nostrils just as the grim smell of charred meat. Otillia seemed to remember finally that she needed to live and struggled in the assailant's hold.
"Let me go!" She begged. "I have nothing to give to you! You already have our house!"
He laughed boisterously, trading her arm by her scalp and making her scream at the pain.
"Oh, little lady, you're so naive." He laughed at her face, his bad breath enough to make her stomach churn. "There's so much more we can do with a meek thing like you besides taking away your gold."
The way he spoke sent goosebumps through her skin and she struggled again, to which his only response was the deadly blade pressing uncomfortably to her neck. One wrong movement and he would slice her throat.
Yet, he looked very patient, as he dragged her across the streets and to the town's square, where the other men apparently assorted their spoils. Wheat, wine, fabrics, you name it. And, of course, her.
Her captor took out a rope from their supplies and tied her wrists, with the loose end attached to the very fountain she was taking water from earlier. Without sparing her another glance, he went back to his activities, unworried about the possibility of Otillia freeing herself.
There were attempts. Futile, every one of them.
All she had left to do was sit and watch pathetically as the world ended around her.
It took another half hour or so, until the gang finished gathering all they wanted to leave the town. There was no other person like her. She wondered how many managed to run and how many fell victims to their wrath.
"Another plentiful day for us, brothers." A man in a low ponytail and built stature spoke up. He eyed her with a raised eyebrow and she looked down. "Now, who picked the scaredy crow?"
Scaredy crow... Otillia wondered if this was due to her pitch black hair. It felt ominous to be called that. She gulped, staring at the ground.
"That would be me, Sieg." The first man who dragged her spoke up. "I actually traded her fair and square. Some hag offered her in exchange of letting her go freely. Couldn't pass such a good opportunity, right?"
"Poor thing." The leader, Sieg, said in false sympathy. "I assume, then, she's your prize to claim. Not bad, I can see she's quite pretty."
"It's in my right, but I do value more voluptuous women. This wench barely started to fill up." She felt a hand on the back of her collar pulling her and she staggered before standing up. "I was thinking of handing her to the only other kid around. Have him man up by finally taking a woman."
"This could work." Sieg agreed, turning to somewhere behind him. "Arthien, come here."
Otillia looked up briefly, unsure of what this all meant. Another man to claim her? Not the brute one who killed her aunt?
All of them were more likely to be gross brutes, as well.
The man, or rather boy, named Arthien showed up, brandishing his own bloodied knife and a sack of goods in one hand. He had hurt or killed someone that day.
He was older than her, but not by much. She could put him at 17 or 18, against her own 16 years. He honestly looked so out of place among those men.
"Arthien, my lad." Sieg patted his back in camaraderie and Arthien frowned, confused. "Castor has a gift for you."
Castor pushed her and she stumbled on her own feet, but didn't fall, instead stepping forward in the direction of Arthien and Sieg. She felt so unsafe and exposed in the presence of these people. She just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
"...I don't understand." Arthien said for the first time.
Sieg looked at him seriously. They had one problem since Arthien joined their gang and it was him being too soft and not fitting for violence, despite still being a great fighter and strategist. Yet, he refused to leave this life. He needed to change that or he wouldn't last long in their group.
"You need to toughen up, kid." The leader said rather coldly. "You're being gifted a woman. Use her. She's now your responsibility and property." His words made Otillia flinch and he scoffed. "I couldn't care less if she ends up dead to the wolves tomorrow, but I want to hear you fucked her. Do you hear me?"
Arthien choked on his words before they were allowed to come out.
"Y-Yes, sir." Otillia couldn't see now, but there was a faint blush to his tanned skin, embarrassed by such crude words.
It all passed in a blur from then on, how the bandits packed everything on their horses to leave. Otillia was held by the waist and lifted up to the saddle not without some difficulty, Arthien looking annoyed by the whole ordeal as he got on the horse as well.
"You're heavy." He mumbled, picking the reigns in front of her. She frowned, offended.
"Should've made me walk, then." She retorted.
"You would slow us down." Was his last answer before making the horse move, following the lead of the other members of the group.
Otillia still looked back at the destroyed village in a silent farewell. It was her home for a short time and she didn't want to see it end like this.
Who knows what fate had stored for her now.
---
Otillia, exhausted, fell asleep during the trip, unconsciously resting her back against Arthien's lean chest. She stood straighter immediately upon noticing.
Their camp was in a swamp of sorts, the air humid and smelling strange to her. It was close to nighttime now.
Arthien stopped by a tree and got out of the horse, tying the reins to a bunk. He then eyed her tiredly before helping her down, as well.
As he tied her ropes to the same tree, she pleaded:
"Can't you untie me? I won't run away." She promised. "We're in the middle of nowhere."
He seemed to reconsider that before muttering "Later" and she sighed in frustration, sitting down on the ground as she watched the other men work with sorting out their spoils.
It slowly dawned on Otillia that she was in seriously dire state. From what Sieg said, Arthien was to have his way with her and then anything could fall upon her. He could have her killed on the spot to not be a bother. Or, if he was benevolent enough, he could have her alive and set her free... But then where would she go? Her family had abandoned her. She didn't even want to face her cousins after what her aunt did.
Truth is, Otillia always knew she wasn't welcome. She heard, when she was younger, about how her aunt was incredibly jealous of her mother for her beauty. Turned out, she was her mother's spit image. Her resentment was then directed to her niece. Otillia felt a bitter taste to her mouth thinking about how she was essentially alone.
Her face then assumed a reddish tint when thinking about what Arthien was supposed to do with her. She wasn't so naive to not know what ill intented bandits could want from a girl like her. She knew it was very akin to what a husband and wife might do... and that's all. As much as she dreaded it, she could also agree that she would rather lay with Arthien than any of those old men.
They settled around a fire and started to prepare dinner, pieces of meat being roasted and filling the air with its delicious scent. It made Otillia's mouth water. She was starving.
Her companion seemed to notice her existence once again and brought with him two bowls of slices of meat, bread and a pouch of fresh water. He sat down across from her and began to eat silently. He didn't seem too forced by doing it. As she took hungry bites from her food, she wondered if he was used to eat distancing himself from his peers.
Looking him upclose, Arthien could be considered very handsome. His skin was tanned, as if he spent long hours under the sun, and his hair was a light shade of brown. His eyes were a dark gold, too. He had quite jovial features, as well, while trying so hard to appear as a grown man.
As she took one last gulp of water, a voice was heard from the group around the fire.
"Arthien, remember what we talked about." It was Sieg, his voice a bit slurred by the wine, probably. "Give the little crow some attention. Otherwise, I'll take her myself."
Otillia almost jumped in her place, panic coarsing through her veins as she looked at Arthien in expectation. He wouldn't allow it, right? He should want to take her himself. She couldn't fathom the idea of being touched by those men, she was just now getting used to the idea of Arthien since they were closer in age and he hadn't offended her too much.
The young man tsked, putting his bowl down before standing up and patting down the dirt from his pants. He went to untie the knots binding her as he muttered:
"Let's get this done once and for all."
When finished, Arthien held her wrist and made her follow him away from the camp, the cheerings and whistles making her mortified. This was it, then. Tonight she would lose her maidenhood. It filled Otillia with a combination of dread and morbid curiosity.
When they reached a clearing Arthien deemed far enough he let go of her. She could still see the fire from where they were and wondered how much could be heard from the camp.
They stood there a bit awkwardly, Otillia massaging her sore wrists that were bound all day. She watched him hesitantly. What was he waiting for?
"Take off your dress." He said, finally, barely above a whisper. "Then lay on the ground, I guess."
Otillia felt her palms sweat, but obeyed, her hands pulling off her outer dress by the edge and leaving her only on her shift that reached right above her knees. She wondered if he would mind if she played dumb and stayed with that, for now.
He didn't comment on it and she sat down, laying on her back on the grass and looking up at him.
"You've... done this before, right?" She asked just for confirmation. He looked old and viril enough to be experient on that.
Arthien tsked and cursed lowly, his hands starting to undo his trousers out of irritation.
"None of your business." He answered gruffly, kneeling by her feet and grabbing her knee harshly, making her flinch.
Truth is Arthien barely had idea of what he was doing. His knowledge of sex included seeing animals on the farm and the occasional coupling of his peers with victims of raids or prostitutes, but he never actually paid attention to what it all entailed. He knew his... organ, had to go inside the girl and it was supposed to feel good.
Still, they had to make it believable, otherwise he wouldn't hear the end of it with Sieg.
"It's supposed to hurt." He warned. "So, when I do it, you need to scream. This way they'll know it really happened."
"When you do what?" She asked almost impatiently.
"You'll know, damn it!" He snapped, cheeks burning out of frustration.
It dawned on him that he's not supposed to be nice right now. She was supposed to fear him. So, he probably should be a little more forceful and really do whatever he seemed fit.
Arthien decided that to know what the body of a girl looked like was enough of a beginning.
He stays between her legs and pushes up her shift until it pools under her collarbone, making her squirm at the exposition. For now, he ignored the sacred place between her thighs to look at her chest. He knew what a woman's bosom is supposed to look like, yet he's blushing. Her breasts aren't big and her nubs are a soft shade of pink.
The man took one in his hands and squeezed it, earning a squeak.
"T-This doesn't look like the right thing!" Otillia complained. "You're just playing with me!"
"I can play with you if I want." He shot back, his other hand joining the remaining mound. "You're just a spoil."
Arthien started to forcefully fondle with her, gasps and moans leaving her everytime he flicked or pinched her nipples a certain way. It made a strange feeling pool at her lower belly and she couldn't decide if she liked it or not. She actually tried to push him away when he lowered his face between them and started to bite lightly, in the first attempt of resistance of the night. All he needed to do was hold her wrists away while he kept tasting her.
Arthien's face traveled upwards and Otillia had her eyes shut when he actually assaulted her with a kiss. It was sloppy, it was strange and it was her first. He forced her mouth to open and soon she was tasting his tongue, in what honestly felt like the most intimate act of the night. This was supposed to be quick and hurtful. Why was he dragging it out so long and prolonging her suffering?
He finally let go of her, both panting as he towered over her and she turned her face away in shame.
Arthien stood on his knees, a tight feeling at his underwear which gave him half an idea of what was yet to happen. He pushed her knees further apart and looked at her slit, partially covered by hair. She unconsciously tried to close it, but he stood between them with no chance of rebuking.
He spread her lips almost curiously, noticing the slick produced, the hooded bundle and a hole. He pressed his thumb against the bundle and she arched with a scream.
This hurt, right?
So he kept touching it. Palming it, rubbing it and teasing it until she was moaning and begging him to stop. It wasn't what he expected, though, she looked more overwhelmed than in pain. Yet, he kept doing it, alternating it with more squeezes to her bosom, finding out he enjoyed hearing her sounds.
Suddenly, to Otillia, everything became too much and she felt her body tense in a indescribably good sensation that filled her with warmth, then made her feel spent. She breathed heavily, while Arthien looked at her in confusion.
"What was that?" He had to ask.
"I... don't know..." She said sincerely, closing her eyes out of exhaustion.
Yet, Arthien wasn't done. Actually, right now he was pretty sure of what he had to do.
He freed his hard cock from his underwear, stroking it as he looked down at Otillia's gushing privates. He knew what happened now, it was one of the few things he had learned.
He pushed his tip against her entrance, watching it almost marvelously stretch for him just as Otillia tensed.
"W-Wait..." She tried to stop him.
Instead, Arthien pushed roughly, feeling something tear on the way that made her scream and him gasp. She was just so damn tight, it was almost uncomfortable. She cried at the feeling and pushed uselessly against his chest.
"Arthien, it hurts!" Otillia said with tears in her eyes, the feeling of being violated stronger than ever.
"I told you about this." He said with clenched teeth, unwillingly pulling off for a second, if only to give her some time to recover. He pretended not to notice the faint trace of blood on his cock and down her cunt. This was his doing. He didn't feel proud of it.
When he deemed it enough of a wait, he returned his position, Otillia looking at him alarmed.
"I-It should be over...!"
"It's over when I feel good about this, Crow." He said holding her hips for a better grasp. "Try to calm down."
Having said that, he pushed again and she let out another scream. It hurt, but not as much as the first.
He dragged it out leisurely and pushed it again, back and forth, assuming a pace of slow deep thrusts. As he grew more impatient, the speed would grow and her screams subsided, being replaced by soft sobs and moans.
Now, this he could say was good and he immediately understood the appeal of his older mates in the gang. The warm and tight feeling of a woman could make one lose his mind, though Arthien was way more interested in how delighted she seemed by it, even if she was to deny it. The obscenely wet sounds of their skin slapping, mixed with her soft begging for mercy could be fantasy fuel for months for him.
Arthien then changed positions, making her sit up and bounce on his cock, the new angle making her scream lightly at how deep it hit her, Otillia not able to do much besides circle her arms around his neck for feeble support as he assaulted her cunt. His nails dug sharp marks on her flesh as he moved her up and down, his tip poking at her cervix incessantly in his rush.
That flooring white sensation hit her a second time that night and she shuddered weakly over him, her walls tightening briefly over his cock before she let go of all will and just laid against him, used and spent as he had his way with her. It didn't take long, though, for his movements to become even more erratic and a tightening feeling spread over his balls, announcing his own climax.
Arthien grunted as he plunged himself deeper than ever for his release, ropes of seed coating her inner walls and claiming her as his. Otillia, in her sleep like state, still felt the warm foreign sensation deep inside her and cried a little, knowing that she was forever ruined for every man in the future. Even worse, a part of her dared to say this wasn't as bad as she first thought. If she could just shut her mind for a minute, it could even be enjoyable.
After what felt like forever, Arthien pushed her away, almost gently, both of them a bit transfixed at the sight of cum pouring out of her as he unsheathed himself.
"...Dress up." He said a bit stiffly, rearranging his clothes. "It's freezing here, we need to sit by the fire."
Otillia didn't want to go there, those men would just humiliate her, she was sure they heard her screams. Yet, more than anything, she just wanted to lie down and sleep warmly for once and she knew it would be more comfortable by the fire.
She stands up with difficulty and every step makes her wince, enough that she grasps at Arthien's arm for support. She wished she didn't, as the mocking and laughs from the group were somehow worse.
"The lovebirds sure had some fun." Sieg said with eyes full of malice. "You have quite strong lungs, crow. You were so loud."
Otillia flinched, hiding her face behind her dark hair, behind Arthien who was a few inches taller than her. He didn't react to it, just pulled a few fur pieces from a carriage and pulled her to a secluded enough corner, but with warmth still.
"Sleep." It was more of an order than a suggestion. "They're not going to touch you, I'll make sure of it. Tomorrow we'll discuss whether you're staying or not."
Otillia blinked astonished at his words, even more when he sat down with his back to her, but still so close. Almost protective. She was his property, after all.
As much as it was disgusting, it still gave her a faint sense of protection as she laid down and tried to forget the events of the day, that were sure to change her life forever.