Punishment in the Stocks
There is definitely something wrong with my brain.
I decided to sit down and write something low on story and high on porn, just as an exercise in displaying emotion in my characters.
This is what happened.
It isn't pretty, but I'm kind of pleased with how awful it turned out. Though I feel bad for the poor characters >.> Argh.
This is a one-off, and not part of one of my ongoing stories.
Leave comments? Thanks!
"Slut!"
Eustace flinched, flushed red as beets beneath her dirt-smudged grey fur. She was shuddering, wracked with sobs of terror and mortification, discomfort and fear, and stared towards her parents in pleading misery. Surrounded by a mob of filthy, angry, laughing, muck-flinging villagers, both wolves' ears were splayed back in shame, their eyes downcast and paws gripped together as their only daughter was carted toward her punishment.
As she was paraded before the crowd atop the dung cart, bare footpaws buried in the foul and fetid cow manure, the assembled mob of her village flung rotting vegetables and mud, uncaring that the target of their wrath was one of their own. The teenage girl kept raising her paws, warding off the more well-aimed bits to protect her pretty face from a rain of rock-hard beets and tubers that were bruising her otherwise unshielded legs and torso.
At least mother and father weren't throwing anything, but they refused to meet her eyes, the two proud but penniless brown wolves huddled close together lest the foaming mob remember whose parents they were and turn on them for sport.
They had followed her cart since verdict was handed down, all the way from the burgomeister's podium in the town's market square, across the river, and into the low market's stinking muddy platz. The bailiff driving her cart finally reached the stocks; to her misery she saw them empty, no other fur being punished who could divert and divide the crowd's boredom and cruelty. . Yesterday, she had been a well-loved and sought after girl, beautiful and happy. Today, the burgomeister had found her guilty of lasciviousness, and pronounced her a slattern and trollop, to be punished with a week in the stocks. Now, all she was to the town she had spent all her life in was a piece of entertainment, someone on whom to vent their frustrations and mob-fueled anger.
It was incomprehensible! She had been caught kissing a male, and things had only gone downhill from there. Never, ever, had she given her virtue to a male, as she had offered to let the midwives prove for her. The fat, leering, self-satisfied burgomeister had been unmoved, grining jowls jigging, claiming the midwives could be paid to lie.
When the driver stopped the cart, a male hound thick with muscle and with his belly overhanging his belt dismounted from the crossbow seat and approached, offering his paws up to catch her. Sobbing openly now at the betrayal, the inescapable feeling that her whole town had now turned upon her, that her life was over, forever to be labeled as a whore, she was unable to respond in any coherence to the reaching hound
Finally, ears flicking in agitation and a growl of annoyance flickering through his voice, the hound bark-hissed as low as he could to her.
"Eusty, come down before they try to stone you! You stupid girl!"
The shouting hiss broke her, and the beautiful young girl fell to her knees amid the reeking cow shit, sobbing in terrified hysteria until the reddening hound finally climbed into the cart, picking up the unresisting girl. The crowd howled with laughter at her humiliation, and Eustace had only enough presence of mind left to cringe and cover her head against the expected rain of refuse. None came, the crowd having run out of bad food to fling, or perhaps not brave enough to risk hitting the one carrying her.
They would be wise to restrain themselves, Eustace knew. Coddy, the young male carrying her, was a nobleman, if the lowliest form of one. An esquire, inherited from his father, Coddy could legally kill any of them and face no real justice for it. Atop that, he was a Reeve, a lawman all of his own right, despite his youthful twenty years, and thus able to give no end of trouble to these people. She shivered and put her cheek against his gut, feeling the roiling anger and seething fury in the muscles within as they stayed tense.
No one would testify that he was the one she'd been caught kissing. No one would risk his wrath. The burgomeister, though, was a higher form of peasant - He was valuable to their overlord, so Coddy could do nothing about it when the burgomeister refused to hear his testimony.
They had intended to be married. A kiss, because he had asked her for her hand, had become so much more. So much more awful. The howling village priest was beginning to chant 'slut and slattern!' and the crowd was following his words, singing them in a mish-mash of voices. The burgomeister was punishing her to appease the Bishop's demand for shows of public authority over vice, Coddy had told her last night, through the bars of the small cell behind the Reeve's office.
He dismounted the cart, jarring her slight body against his heavy chest. Coddy couldn't afford to show her any tenderness, she knew, though she could rub her cheek against his chest to wipe away tears. Any who saw could just ascribe it to her whoreishness if they wished, she thought, as the tears kept flowing.
"Save your tears, my love. I'll have to wait till midnight to bring you more water or they'll have me in there with you...And if you go without for a week, you'll die."
He whispered the words into her ears, and Eustace gave the slightest of nods, muzzle rubbing against him, whiskers plucked by the rough rawhide of his jerkin.
Then the driver, Karkin the stinking boar, grabbed her from Coddy's loving arms. His grip, decidedly less gentle, wrenched a cry from her throat as he dumped her to the ground without ceremony, laughing huskily as Coddy was forced by necessity to step back stiffly. He couldn't go against the burgomeister's justice, not openly and without support of the mob. Even a minor noble could be killed by a ravening mob, and the lord might not do a thing about it.
Worse yet, it would leave her without any protection. Eustace raised her shining emerald-green eyes to his simple browns, and thought her hardest thoughts at him, hoping he would hear them.
Don't feel guilty...This isn't your fault, and I love you.
The shimmer of tears in his own, the clenching of his paws into fists, the furious looks he gave Karkin as the boar rolled her over and began cutting her clothes with a rusty knife, all told her that Coddy still loved her despite this. She hoped to die, so that he could find some other girl, who wasn't labeled a whore forever.
As soft paw-spun wools were torn away, chilly autumn wind cut through her thin auburn fur, leaving her shivering and trying to curl up on the muddy ground that soaked water and filth into her fur. The boar, ignoring his fellow Reeve's murderous stare, kicked her hard in the gut, driving a breathless yelp from the girl now clad only in linen smallclothes, curled up defensively on the ground.
He then grunted, snorting piggishly, and made a hard gesture demanding Coddy come help him. With regret and reluctance written in his every movement, the hound shuffled over and picked up her right arm by paw and elbow as the boar took her left. Unresisting, head slouched, she was dragged to the wooden device.
When the wooden device locked down around her neck and wrists, a wave of hot humiliation boiled up anew. Unable to protect herself, utterly immobilized but for her legs, and bent harshly at the waist with nothing to kneel on but the dirt, she whimpered and flagged her bushy tail down between her legs, thankful at least that the stocks faced the crowd, with her back pointed towards the wooden palisade wall that ringed town, though it was some ten paces behind her.
The boar stood tall and snorted out, in his guttural voice, thick with vile curses that lingered just below the surface.
"Behold the price of slatternry! This whore, by order of 'is mayorship the burgomeister, is to stay inna stocks for a week as punishment! No killin' the slut! Throw all th' shit an' veggibles y'wish though!"
His laughter was echoed in the crowd, and Eustace hung her head in shame, long proud ears pinning back as a brave child skittered forward and fell, muddying his knees to scoop up a double pawful of muck. He spat in it, and mushed it together, grinning cherub-cheeked at her and red-faced with awful vicious glee on his vulpine muzzle. The boy's tail was wagging, and as he slammed both paws into her face hard enough to bruise the back of her skull against the wooden stocks the crowd roared with laughter and calls of encouragement to the child.
Coddy was shaking with rage as he stormed around then in front of her, kicking at the child with his hobnailed boot to the booing of the crowd. Yelling out a curse, he cuffed the boy hard on the ear, knocking him flat in the mud with a squall of pain and fear. Eustace coughed, trying to cry out for him to stop, to let them do what they would do, but as her muzzle opened she began sneezing muddy snot, reflexively trying to shake the gooey grime from fur that normally stayed fine and clean.
A paw landed hard on her rear, and the wolf squealed out a yelp, jerking in the stocks hard enough that they only stayed stationary on account of being bolted into its heavy, weighted framework. As the yelped and squirmed and cried out wordlessly, the paw shifted up her back and down her side, grabbing bruising-hard onto her supple tit, squeezing the nipple until she sucked in breath, beyond shrieking now.
Stinking, foetid breath whisked across her snout as the boar leaned down to whisper. Meanwhile, Coddy was chasing the child back into the crowd, then roaring at them, enraged beyond noticing what happened behind him. The mob was uncertain of its valor, she saw, debate stringing across their stupid faces as they debated whether to swarm Codderich St. Mauster and his longsword.
"You keep yer screamin' down, girly, an' y'just might be th'only one tha' gets hurt..."
The boar laughed gutturally, and pointed a finger past her head towards her parents. The view was quickly occluded as her eyes filled with stinging tears of terror. She loved them, even if they could do nothing for her. At least they had stayed this long, and hadn't just left her here alone. Soon enough, though, they would have no choice - Anyone caught aiding a person in the stocks might well end up there themselves, if they hadn't bribed the law properly. Given her father was a simple baker and her mother a homewife, the chances of that were small.
"I'll be back f'r you...You'n'me are gonna have some fun!"
Eustace's tears were running freely, tail flagged down, ears back until the tips touched her wooden prison, knees wobbly with fear and fatigue. The boar finally let go of her bruising rear, letting her slouch until her knees were in the mud and her ears forward because they could be nowhere else thanks to the stocks' wooden neck enclosure.
Before the crowd could make up its mind, the burgomeister's carriage pulled to a stop behind it, mail-armored furs at arms dismounting it to disperse the riotous crowds with spear butts, kicks, and yells.
Even Coddy had to go, she knew, at least for now. She laid her chin down in the stock, and prayed.
The sun had gone down, and in Middelberg's low market, business died with the light. An hour past sundown, Eustace was shivering in the cold, clad only in her soiled and dirty smallclothes, the pale yellow linen blouse and bloomer pants doing little to cut the cold. The buildings surrounding her on three sides had cut the wind, at least, though not the fog of her misery. The pretty young thing, puffy-faced and out of tears, just stared into the lightless black and shadowy mud with hardly a thought left in her exhausted mind.
When lantern light approached, she reflexively closed her eyes and winced, expecting yet another pelting with rotten fruit. At least this year the harvest had been good, so there was little ammunition. What little 'amusement fruits' there were had become so rotten they mostly splattered, rather than chipping teeth or breaking bones as she'd sometimes seen done with flung beets hard as rocks. The stinky little rodent who usually came to pillorying and the stocks vending rotten fruit hadn't even shown up.
No hint of the expected blow came, though she did hear voices rounding the corner, chatting amicably though with an air of furtiveness. One voice she immediately identified - the boar Karkin - and her lip curled in disgust at the same moment her tail flagged downward again and hooked under her body in fear.
"Aye, sir, she's young 'n pretty like I said! See?"
From down the alley, beyond the sight of her newly re-opened eyes and silhouetted by the boar's lantern, a pair of furs seemed to be looking at her. One let out a low laugh, with a sound that sent a chill up her spine, straightening her muddy fur where it was unweighted with muck.
"Heh, what do you think, Rod?"
The one called Rod stopped standing, boots thumping in the mud as he strode to her, and grabbed Eustace's chin before she could so much as yell an imprecation or try to futilely pull aside. When he knelt down next to her, his paw clenched behind her jaw, forcing her muzzle open to show a pretty pink tongue and well-kept teeth. It also served to choke her, and the foul-breathed housecat smirked.
"She has pretty teeth, Dietrich."
Dietrich, a tall and rangy wolf, strode right past his friend as Eustace tried to yank free of his gripping paw only to find his claws digging into her tender flesh. Her eyes were going wide with fright now, as the boar behind him was smirking, eyes glittering, drawing a finger across his throat in reminder of his earlier words. Eustace couldn't help the whimper that stole from her muzzle, the fresh tears that prickled at her eyes but wouldn't fall.
Then her blousy lower garment was gripped at her slender hips and yanked. The wolf girl yelped, then gagged as the cat's free paw grabbed her throat, hard enough to choke off her air. She struggled, trying to kick, trying to pull away, but was trapped, defenseless, her paws jerking until her wrists bled from the wood they were trapped by and feet unable to do anything but drum meaninglessly against muscled legs that were like iron wrapped in velvet fur.
As someone grabbed her tail and yanked it hard enough to make the bones crackle, the housecat leaned in and whispered to her.
"Bite me, and you'll lose every tooth in your pretty head...One at a time..."
The cold touch of steel to her chin made the struggling stop, as she stared in horrified realization. The cat had a hammer touched to her jaw, a small one for pounding small nails or breaking small teeth. As a paw gripped her between the legs, the young wolf arched her back, digging filthy toes into the mud, whimpering and gasping as the choke on her throat finally left. The feline was standing up, and to her ever-deepening horror was unlacing the rawhide that held his breeches shut.
"P-please..." she sucked in a breath, struggling and sobbing again as the wolf behind her laughed and squeezed the mound above her secret place, shocking the girl who had never so much as been touched there except by her own paw to wash since she was a little girl. It was a sinful place, a dirty place, whose only good function as taught by the church was to bear cubs for one's husband.
Now some wolf she didn't even know, some male named Dietrich, was sliding his fingers along it in a way that had her trying struggling futilely to bring her tail back down as her toes conspired to crook and her spine to tingle with strange sensation as she tried incoherently to help out a plea without angering the deeply impulsive and violent boar that had bullied her and every other child in the village for years.
The wolf spoke again.
"She's already getting wet. Poor thing probably doesn't even know why."
His voice was gentle, and it sickened her, though she had no understanding of why such a juxtaposition would be disturbing. Then she nearly screamed, before biting her tongue, as hot breath touched her cunt just before a slobbering tongue delved into her liquid-hot quaking entrance.
The paw was back on her throat, forcing her jaw open painfully, before a pungent, barbed cat cock slapped across her muzzle, spraying a line of stinking liquid across her cheek. She nearly vomited, thinking the male was pissing on her. Then she nearly closed her jaw when his sour-tasting pole was shoved straight into her long, delicate muzzle, sitting the horrid sour-fish taste directly onto her thrashing, struggling tongue.
'Rod' slowly removed the paw from her jaw, while speaking in suddenly-hoarse strained words.
"Remember, girl...Bite me, and I break every bone in yer mouth. Then I go and do th' same to yer mother, get it?"
She wanted to scream, to bite, though the horror of ripping at a male's cock made her blanch and squirm and for a blessed moment forget about the tongue that was slavering around her insides, about the fingers prying her buttocks apart to show both of her most shameful places to a stranger and a rapist. Eustace leaked, soppy cunt juice mixing with the male's spit, and something low in the pit of her stomach seemed to be tightening a way sweetly at odds with the terror-pit that occupied her real gut.
The cat grabbed one of her fine, well-groomed ears, and jerked it so hard she thought it might come off, and the tears finally began to fall once more, as he commenced to pulling her forward so much as the stocks would allow.
"Suck my cock, little girl...My cum is the only thing you get t'eat today. Maybe Dietrich's too if yer good to 'im."
The wolf behind her pulled his muzzle back just enough to speak, interspersing his words with licks that had her legs jerking in confused arousal.
"Fuck that, Rod. You can have her mouth. I want this sweet pink prize..."
He seemed to be honestly complimenting her, somehow, as he ate at her cunt, making her womb wriggle in dancing twitches that felt oddly as if they were building to something still far away.
Eustace tried to keep her eyes open, though the world appeared blurry and liquidy from tears. She wanted any distraction from what was happening, but all she could see was shadow and darkness, as the all-too-male cat's body blocked even lantern light from her eyes. Meanwhile, he huffed, and slammed his hips forward until the barbed cock smacked into the back of her throat, forcing her stomach to heave without her will.
He stuffed the thing right down her throat, as the girl strained and tried to vomit an empty stomach around the fleshy plug choking off her air. Hot, awful liquid dripped and slid back down her throat as the cat finally pulled away, leaving her gasping and drooling all over his filthy maleness, as it pulsed and left more disgusting salty bitterness on her tongue.
"Lick it, bitch! Or I start breaking teeth!"
Finally, his paw had left her jaw, though she found the sudden opportunity impossible to use. Sheer fear of what would happen prevented her from biting him as hard as she could, though she desperately wanted to. Instead, her long, graceful, pink, formerly-virgin tongue slapped against his tip, winning her another spurt of his musky pre-seed and a grunt of pleasure for her trouble. Tears still running down her face, she began licking at the spiny pole stuffing her muzzle, as she would a candied sweet, trying not to sob or gag on him again or scrape her teeth against his cock and win herself a jaw full of ruined teeth that would wreck her beauty.
Somewhere in the background, she heard an odd, rhythmic slapping sound that distracted her ears for just a moment. Then, the wolf behind her gripped Eustace's hips and pulled them upwards out of her half-kneel. She hadn't even noticed his tongue leaving, though she was dripping enough to feel juices and spit sliding down her leg. Something hot, pointed, fleshy but hard touched against her rear, and smeared liquid through her fur on its way to its target as she tried once more to hoarsely beg, muffled by the dripping cock that shoved into her throat once more to silence her with a heaving splutter.
Something inside her ached, someplace below her stomach but above where his tip was touching her. He rested there for a few seconds, the pointed end of his cock pressed against her weeping virginal lips. Then she was forced by reflex to jolt again, as a finger found some spot on her body she'd never noticed before, something at the apex of her sinful part, and played it like a bard's finger on a lute string, jangling notes of pleasure and mortified horror up her spine.
The shaft in her maw paused, having drawn back enough to let her breath, and the feline attached to it started to laugh. After a second, she realized it was because she was wriggling, moaning, and starting to hump back against the teasing prick as it drew backwards to keep its place.
She wanted to die. She wanted to bite down on the cock in her mouth and be killed. Eustace knew it would never end that easily for her, or for her family, or for her little brother especially. They might even hunt down Coddy somehow, though she knew her beloved was a great warrior, famed through six counties for his swordsmanship at tournaments and faires.
Just as she managed to exert will enough to still her burning body's cunt-clenching humping, the male behind her had enough waiting. Drawing a squeak of pain from her throat, he gripped her hips and jammed himself inside, until something felt like it had burst, and the crying, sobbing, cock-sucking girl felt her heart break along with her maidenhead, as blood dribbled down her thigh to mingle with the juices of her uncontrollable arousal.
The cat holding her head was truly laughing now, and pulling her around by her ears, fucking her muzzle until his cock's forcing into her throat no longer drew a gag response. Her exhausted urge to vomit never faded, but the muscles were simply too tired spent. Her mind was swirling around a yawning abyss of fleshy pleasure and horrified violation, as the cat's heavy balls thudded into her chin over and over, banging away at the debased and utterly defeated wolf.
Her paws clenched into fists, as the tears ran dry, and she simply stared in bewildered non-understanding as the paws on her hips kept their grip and the hips behind her began to move. Her cunt was burning, raw, angry and painful, and yet the pleasure wasn't stopping or even slowing, forcing more drips of arousal to seep from around the over-thick cock buried in her. As it slowly pushed deeper, working against her resistance rather than trying to slam itself through, she paradoxically felt vaguely grateful to the wolf behind her, for not being so awful and forceful as the horrible-tasting cat raping her face and dragging the filth of his balls across her chin.
Something in that hit her, and though her body wouldn't respond, her mind raged at the indignity of it. Here she was, a good girl, a faithful girl and hard worker, wanting to wed a loving and gentle warrior of great skill who loved her back with all his heart, being raped on the street by a pair of furs she'd never met in all her life, and her cunt and womb were positively screaming for more! Her tongue, even, traitor thing that it was, was swirling around the tip in her mouth, scraping away the disgusting taste only to find it quickly replaced and in growing amount, by a shaft that was starting to quiver and pulse in its surrounding of spit and expulsions.
She swallowed the stuff, feeling it dripping down her throat, as the wolf behind her began to finally fuck for real, long powerful thrusts burying his stony spear into her quivering, boiling hole. His fingers held her rump apart as he screwed into her, shifting his hips to force pleasure in spikes that shot up her spine, a building heat that felt as if her head would explode at any moment.
Karkin spoke, but his voice sounded choked, strained, and she hoped he was getting ready to die for what he'd done.
"Don't...Don't tie her, m'lord...No tellin' when Coddy'll be back...Ungh...Fuck!"
A squealing piggy noise emerged from the boar, though Eustace couldn't see him around the straining cat in front of her. She could hear, though, as the fleshy thumping noise suddenly sped, then stopped. She could hear the soft, awful splattering sounds of his cum gushing and splotting onto the mud.
The wolf growled, and jolted hard against her, and Eustace nearly screamed from ecstasy as something huge and terrifying and unknown deep inside her pulsating body was pushed against and nearly overcome. Her paws tingled, her crotch felt as if it were wriggling and stroking at what thrust within her, and something hard and quite frighteningly large was shoved up against her pussy lips as the wolf snarled out a response.
"I'll tie who I like, peasant! How dare you cum before me!"
As if to illustrate his point, his ownership, one of his fingers found her tightly-clenched asshole, stabbed a dull claw into it to force it open, then plunged into her clutching, pain-screaming depths. Eustace howled around the shaft in her mouth, unable to stop herself as a blast of sensation and pulsating, overhot pleasure exploded deep inside her cunt even as her ass squealed at her in agony. The cock was her whole world, in that moment, stuffed in her muzzle, filling her snout with the reek of maleness, filling her cunt with the craved-for pole she'd wanted all her life and never known of.
The unnamed explosion milked at the lordly cock that was shoved in her, squeezing, forcing the wolf to howl and jam himself against her, drawing a second explosion from her loins before the first gut-clenching, breast-heaving, toe-curling detonation of ecstatic pleasure could end. She was blind, deaf, able to feel only the great straining girth trying to force itself in, trying to breed her, nearly tearing her in half it felt like, before it finally forced past her resisting spasming muscle ring and locked the wolf to her cunt.
Searing-hot seed blasted out in ropes, deep inside her body, as the straining timber wolf's paw dug into her hip so hard his claws broke skin. His balls were shoved against her, trapped, roiling in their fleshy containment as they tried to throw every drop of his pearly jizm into her broiling need like oil flung to heighten a bonfire. The finger in her ass shoved deeper, then, reminding her with a jolt that she was humiliated, not enjoying this terrifyingly overwhelming sensation amidst the brutal fucking she was receiving.
The cum that coated her tongue in a sudden jolt was nearly an afterthought. She could barely perceive it, barely think past the shame that filled her mind, weighted her chest and spasming gut with gloaming self-disgust. The cat pulled from her muzzle, slapping her snout with his tip in a way that stung, but not nearly so badly as when his yellowish seed hit her eyes and sent a jolt of pain and pleasure through her trapped, helpless body, as her paws clenched and the wolf behind her jerked again and continued cumming into the burning fire in her filling womb.
Hot, thick liquid was dripping from her forehead, off her eyelids, from her snout and lips and cheeks, by the time the torturous cumming had stopped. It tasted of salt and fish and sourness, bitter milkweed and humiliation, and he didn't give her a second to gather her thoughts before slapping his cum-splattered tip across her face, eliciting another shot along her cheek.
The wolf was hardly done, himself, still slowly pumping his hips as his cock shot out increasingly small strings, then dribbles of milky seed. It seemed soothing now, like the liquid sloshing around in her belly was putting out the fire she'd never known before. Covering it in a creamy deliciousness that sat like a haze at the heart of her miserably violated self. Somehow, maybe the salt in her eyes, she was crying again, whimpering, humping helplessly back against the plug in her cunt.
Then a sick sound, of a different sort from what had filled her ears and world for the last few minutes, sounded from down the alleyway. A meaty noise, a tearing sound, a squealed gurgle, and the sound of steel cutting through leather and hide and armor. Then the spraying of blood, and a gurgling that sounded like some sort of question, before a terrible hair-prickling warrior's cry rent the night.
The cat was too slow, turning around and trying to draw a dagger awkwardly from his discarded pants. He tripped, surviving the brutal upward swipe of a Middelheimer two-pawed longsword only by sheer lock that allowed him time to grab his warhammer and try to straighten himself.
The cat threw caution to the wind, hoping a surprise reversal could save him. She tried to scream out, but found herself paralyzed in a moment of crystal clarity.
There stood Coddy, the perk-eared shepherd with his black fur and brown spots, with a twisted look of rage in his face so terrible she thought he might be the devil himself. Then she noticed, behind the rampaging fire of murder in his eyes, that he was looking at her attacker, not at her, staring over her head towards the wolf tied to his bred bitch, who was trying to rip himself out of her clutching body.
Coddy had his longsword out, was dressed in his leather and chain armor, and had just executed a strike he'd once shown her. The move would bring his sword up, shifting his arms and legs in such a way to give his opponent the misapprehension that he had foolishly over-extended. When the moment of crystal motionlessness was over, that sword would come down with all of his body weight behind it, half a stone of razor-sharp steel with eight stone of brutal warrior driving it downward with all his furious might and famous skill.
When the wolf tried to pull free, the world shattered back into motion. Eustace clamped her spasming cunt down by no motion she knew how to understand. Her will forced her body to figure it out, and as the wolf tried to pull free so he could grab his blade and fight, she trapped his still-swollen, still-cumming knot deep inside her body.
Coddy's blade slammed downward, and the cat let out half a shriek as he raised the warhammer up for a surprised parry. The longsword's momentum was simply too great to be stopped, shearing through warhammer, shoulder, chest, and side of the half-naked cat, spraying Coddy red with an explosion of gore as the cat crumpled in a pile of his own escaping innards.
A fist slammed into the back of her head, then, bruising her throat against the stocks, choking Eustace as she squeezed down with all of her might on the suddenly quiescent flesh within. He'd stopped filling her, finally, and as he hit her again, awkwardly over top of the stock's top, she gave a bloody grin, having bit her tongue sometime unnoticed.
Coddy's strides thundered across the mud, and she heard the singing of his sword, something he'd told her of but she'd never heard before - A humming, like unto a fine bell being tolled with a padded hammer. The thwack, when it hit her rapist, was far less musical but no less joyous for her.
She felt the wolf shift backwards, felt his cock stretch and pull at her bruised and bleeding insides, but his weight was wrong as his legs slumped and went limp as boiled grass.
Coddy had cut him in half at the waist. Cut a nobleman in half at the waist.
The dog was panting, but from rage and not exertion, as he yanked the dead body away from her. The cock was finally gone, and the inside of her womanly place felt cold as air filled the gap for just a moment, before blood and seed dribbled into the vacated space and out down her thighs.
Coddy's sword whirled again, and for a blessed moment she thought he'd just beheaded her, saved her from the shame of living with this agonizing experience. Her heart fluttered with joy, with love for the male who would kill a mighty lord for her, then free her from her miserable wreck of a life.
Then she felt air on the back of her wrists and neck, and strong arms wrapping around her violated, bruised, brutalized body. Coddy was holding her tightly to his chest, and hot water was falling from his face to hers.
She opened her eyes, cum dripping and stinging though they were, to see the big noble hound was crying, furious and heartbroken all at once.
"Eustace...Eustace, can you hear me?"
She managed a smile, though her muzzle still tasted full of cock and seed and blood.
"Coddy...I love...You..."
Someone yelled, off in the darkness, and her beloved turned his head and went stiff. Then she was being lifted, by strong arms, told to wrap her arms around his neck.
He ran, and ran hard, sheathing his blade in a practiced motion despite the awkward load in his left arm. Soon, she could hear the slapping of his boots on the cobbles of nicer streets, then smell the earthy scent of good horses, her world moving by in snippets of time and images and cold and warmth and the good loamy stink of Coddy's scent.
Then they were a-horse, her covered in his cloak and snuggled in tight, shielded from light and the world by his embrace, as the good squire Coddy fled his life, his wealth, his reputation, all for a girl who wasn't even a virgin any more.
She was too exhausted to cry, or try to tell him to leave her to the guards. He loved her, and it would have to be enough reason to go on living.