The Passions of Gwendolyn

Chapter One-2

Erik loosened the ropes at my ankles so I was completely free to lay with him, nothing to hamper his access to my feminine home. I shivered nervously as I waited, wondering how I could respond to the advance of a hellish stranger. I was hearing my heart’s beating as if it was pounding inside my head.

I would have thought that he would simply ravage me, as the other men would have done. But after he’d stripped himself of everything but his loose shirt, he attended to me as tenderly as Stuart might. There was eagerness in his eyes, a sure boldness about every touch; but he it was not eagerness without mercy. Staring into my frightened gaze, he loosened my tattered clothes carefully. With the torn bodice falling away and the belt undone, he pulled away my garment so nothing but a simple muslin shift remained. I hoped he’d not insist on more, and I trembled when he did.

“I should like to gaze on these first,” he said, unclothing me completely, his eyes resting on my naked breasts. “You shouldn’t be scared. I won’t hurt you.” Leaning in he kissed them with lips as soft as flower petals, as tender as a spring mist. He laid me back on the bed of straw and animal skins, and removing his shirt so he was as naked as I, he descended to have what I’d already given to Stuart that morning. It seemed like years, not hours since I’d lain with my lover in the meadow above our home. Now lying with this stranger, this brusque, demanding, but gentle stranger, I was in another world, in another life, as if that other one had never existed at all.

His generous erection pushed its way inside me, and I gasped loudly as a surge of raw sensation bounded through my limbs and loins. Despite my fear and my apprehensions, it was lust, purely driven lust greeting him, and he could see it in my eyes.

“Ah! You are a bawdy one, my silent child,” he purred to me.

His hands combed my body, as if he would have me pleased even while he took from me. Though I might have fruitlessly tried to fight him off, I did not, instead allowing his fondling to ignite even more crude desire. His ramming c**k only grew larger the more he thrust. I moaned loudly and thrashed my body about. His savageness met the savageness of anger, dread and longing that poured from me like venom and wine in the same instant.

When he exploded in me, my aching s*x exploded back. And for an instant I disconnected from the man and the act, experiencing only the driving surge of physical satisfaction that ripped everywhere through me.

We lay back against the animal hides. Erik pulled one over my body to keep me warm. “I should be surprised that you take this so easily,” he said. “But then you were not a virgin, not unaccustomed to giving pleasure to a man.”

Is that what he expected, I wondered to myself? I could have slapped him for such a comment, but I was still refusing to respond to him, and with no conversation to inspire the next minutes, we both fell asleep.

***

In the morning, I woke first. Erik snored next to me, and seemed hardly stirred by my rising. Peeking outside the hut, I could see that the small village was still enough to make a fast departure. By one hut, the watchman of the night had fallen asleep at his post. The fire that I’d seen jumping and dancing the night before was little more than glowing embers. With the new day, I was grateful to see the fog—better to make my escape than in the bright light of day; though I’d only have a short time in the misty clouds. They’d be burning off by midday, if not before.

Grabbing the remains of my clothes, I dressed quickly, gazing toward Erik to see him sleeping like a babe. Swiftly darting from the hovel, I bolted for the surrounding woods, heading toward the rising sun, and the coast of England, where some miles distant, I was sure I’d find the remnants of my other life. I was on foot for nearly a half hour, scampering through thick undergrowth, and brambles, scratching myself, tangling my hair, and at times stumbling on the uneven ground. The hunger in my belly was fierce and I had to pee, but I wouldn’t take time to consider either until I was well away from my captors.

When I couldn’t run any longer, I slowed, thinking it was safe enough to take an easier pace. If I was lucky, the bandits hadn’t yet awakened, especially the peacefully sleeping Erik. I prayed with all my soul that this was so, just as I avidly prayed that my journey would bring me back to Stuart and my home. The farther I went, the more my heart soared, the more I believed that my rapid escape was an accomplished fact, and that all I needed to do was be steady, making my way directly to those that could aid and comfort me in my flight.

To my dismay however, neither luck or prayers were in my favor. Thinking I was out of danger, I was wrong. When I heard hoof beats coming my way, my heart sank, as I searched quickly to find a place to hide. My heart pounded ruthlessly in my breast. Every bit of my body ached with pain. And though I found a low bush to dart behind, my movement was noticed by the approaching horsemen. I closed my eyes and hid my head, hoping that it might simply be a band of innocent travelers. But hearing the horses surrounding me, I looked up to see my hopes dashed, I’d been captured again.

“Can’t hang on to her? You bloody ass, you should have bound her tight,” one voice blared as four men on their steeds circled my quaking huddled form.

“You shouldn’t have tried to escape,” Erik said looking down at me, scowling.

Another man, dismounting his horse, picked me up in his powerful arms, and handed me back to Erik. I struggled with him, and Erik reached down with his powerful arm, and slapped my face.

“You will not take me!” I roared.

“You have a feisty one.” It was Jorn laughing at me.

“Unhand me!” I kicked his shin and screamed.

Erik came off his horse a second later and claimed my writhing body, though it did nothing to diminish my fight. My struggling brought his palm across my face again with another stinging slap.

“Won’t do any good to fight me,” he said. And still that did nothing to stop my efforts.

“The rope, Laren,” Erik shouted to one man.

I was bound again, both feet and hands, flung over Erik’s mount in front of him, and forced to ride in humiliation back to the camp. I cried, I sobbed wildly, and even tried to wriggle off the stead, but Erik’s hand reached out to brace my bottom. His wordless gesture secured me in place, and established his clear dominion over me.

For all the miles that I believed I’d run in my flight, it was only a short distance, so I discovered, when we returned to the village in just a brief time. I suppose I could be grateful for that, since it was a dreadfully uncomfortable ride.

There was an older version of Erik to greet us on our return. Though my feet were untied, my hands were not, as I was presented to the leader of this clan.

It was a dark watchful eye that gazed on me. The ruddy skinned man was well worn, aged yes, but still strong and vital. In his gaze I detected some wisdom, like my father would be wise, or Stuart’s father, or the old man Heath who was considered the leader of our village. The gaze calmed me.

“You’ll marry my son today,” he said quietly.

“I’ll not,” I vowed, rebuking him.

He shook his head. “Ah! But you will. You’ll be his wife and serve him well, and give him no cause to throw you off. You will be generous with your loins, you’ll bear him children, you’ll work hard to keep his home, and not complain.”

“I will not,” I vowed again, even though this time there was less resolve in my words. Something about the old man’s steady gaze and certain speech was making my determination whither away.

“You will,” he assured me. “Or I’ll give you to my clansmen, and they’ll take you and ravage you. They’ll hurt you, mangle your body until it no longer pleases the eye. You’ll become an old crone of a used up woman in months, and at last discarded like a half-eaten carcass.” He said his words with no anger, with none of the ferocity I’d know from these men so far. Yet he spoke them with a ruler’s conviction. I believed every word he said, and he could tell by my astonished face.

“Erik!” He called to his boy. “Take your woman to your hut. Put a belt to her ornery ass so she understands.” Turning away from me, he left me to my fate.

Erik was still in an angry stew when he grabbed my bound hands and dragged me back to the hut.

“I told you kindly, what you needed to do last night,” he upbraided me. “And you can’t say you didn’t gain from having me between your legs. You’d do well to remember that. Trying to escapade was a fool’s wish.” His eyes glowed hotly.

Erik sat on the rough bed, my body going over his bent knee. With my skirt raised to uncover my bottom, he did as his father recommended. The stiff belt he wore at his waist thrashed my ass with an uncountable number of strokes, until I was howling and begging for mercy, tears streaming down my cheeks. As much as I tried to wail my way out of the fierce chastisement, I was faced with a man much stronger than me. He pelted my ass, until I was sure I’d simply die, the pain astounding to my uninitiated ass cheeks. When he stopped, I simply lay there limp, until he pushed me to the ground. Hitting the packed earth hard, I might have cried out, but my eyes were startled by the look on Erik’s face.

I stared at him, as I had before, still in speechless silence.

“My father speaks the truth of your fate, wench. Don’t contest it. I’ve seen a half dozen women in my life so brutalized as whores, but with no compensation for their womanly treasures. You are too fine a woman to suffer that fate.”

He spoke so plainly, as did his father. And not with contempt, either man. It was something to trust about these two, even though I could in no way trust my future with them, except to assume that it would be bleak.

“Tell me your name, so we can marry properly.”

Was there anything “proper” about this life, the life of rogues and marauding scoundrels that preyed on a weaker countryside? I was incensed to hear such civil words when I know his acts had left me without the compassion and love that had nurtured me my life long, and that would have nurtured me into my future. Could I possibly accept this fate as these apparently wise men suggested? Or should I try to bolt again? It might be easier if I could end my life then, grab the knife from Erik’s side and thrust it into my heart and let my soul return to God.

But alas! I was not that brave a woman. I loved life too much to throw it away, even though this horror might have thrown a nightmare into my designs for it. I wasn’t brave enough to take my life, and neither was I foolish enough to beat my breasts before fate and rail on it forever, thinking that my cries would be heard. If my best fortune was to be as this man’s wife, then so be it, I was required to conclude. Even as I dreaded the thought of it, I could not forget the night we’d already spent as man and wife. Surely there was pleasure in our bed, perhaps it would be possible elsewhere.