Medieval Hell (m/f) Parts 1 Through 3

Postby snobound » Fri Sep 03, 2010 10:21 pm

Medieval Hell: The Crime


Writhing in pleasure, arms and legs splayed taut and bound tightly to the corners of his massive mahogany four-poster bed. The young prince flexed and strained against the masterfully applied braided horsehair ropes on which he had spent the equivalent of a peasant's annual pittance. In a state of ecstasy equal to his own, riding astride the seventeen year old nobleman, was a fair maiden of such remarkable beauty that she was said to have no equal throughout the vast territories of the kingdom. The forbidden young lovers were nearing the apex of their passion when the seemingly impenetrable timber barring the chamber's arched entryway shattered with almost shocking force.

Panting uncontrollably, all the prince could do was crane his neck toward the splintered remains of the door to his expansive sleeping chamber. Cowering on the floor at the side of the bed, having made an instinctive leap of self-preservation, knelt the trembling maiden.

"GET OUT! GET OUT!" shrieked the frantic and frightened prince. He pulled wildly against the tightly knotted ropes. His athletic form was pushed to a previously unmatched level of exertion as he strained against the incredibly resilient bonds in an adrenaline-fueled frenzy. "As prince of this realm, heir to the throne, I ORDER YOU FROM THIS ROOM!"

It's hard to project an air of authority when helplessly bound, naked, to your bed. It was no use. No fewer than a dozen of the king's elite personal security detail, armored and bristling with weapons, had spilled through the wreckage of the heavy oak door. Having entered in full attack posture, the highly trained mercenaries were now slowly lowering their swords, daggers, maces, and battle axes. Bemused grins spread over some of their faces, while others gaped, open mouthed, at the spectacle before them.

A hulking brute, apparently the leader of the almost comically out of place throng of muscled warriors, stepped toward the helpless, blushing boy. Try as he might, the soldier was unable to wipe the slight smirk from his face. "My apologies, uh,..... your majesty, but you're both under arrest per order of his highness, your father."

"FOR WHAT?" screamed the boy, almost senseless with rage, embarrassment, and fear.

"For conspiring to jeopardize his highness' plans for an alliance with King Edward." stated the smirking soldier, matter-of-factly. "By associating with this... harlot," he gestured toward the still shaking girl, "you risk the nullification of your future marriage to the princess."

"DON'T call her a harlot you brainless dolt! And you can tell my dear father that I WILL NEVER MARRY THAT DISGUSTING PIG!" spat the prince furiously, his chest heaving as he panted. "Now get out of here and leave us alone before I order you to your death!" He knew he was pushing it.

"That, your majesty, isn't going to happen," the soldier growled. He gestured toward the girl and two subordinates advanced in her direction. She shrieked, and then began to cry.
"Don't you put your hands on her!" shouted the prince. "I will be king before too long!"

"Ignore the boy," said the commanding soldier. "Lust has clearly clouded his judgment." The two soldiers roughly grasped the wide-eyed girl by her arms, pulling her to her feet. Tears streaked down her face as the prince thrashed in his bonds like a creature possessed. One of the arresting soldiers removed a tightly coiled leather strap from a sheath on his belt. The other man wrenched her delicate arms behind her back while her hands were crossed and secured with the strap. She stood there, stark naked, looking imploringly at her lover, rendered helpless by her own hand. Without a moment's hesitation she was marched from the prince's bed chamber.

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!" the prince screamed. "I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD!"

The soldier snorted. "Looks as if she had yours!" The men remaining within the chamber laughed heartily. "By the way, the orders were to place BOTH of you under arrest." He gestured again. Four of the powerfully built young men advanced on the boy. Two of them held him while the ropes were untied from the bed posts.

"Leave the ropes on his wrists and ankles, as the boy seems to have an affinity for them," the commanding soldier instructed. The men forced the prince into a sitting position. "Bind his wrists at his back." The soldiers did as commanded, then roughly pulled him from the bed.

Yet another soldier stepped forward bearing a wooden pole with metal rings affixed to each end. This pole was forced behind the prince's arms where it was bound to his biceps with a long coil of his own luxurious rope. His upper arms, as well as the wooden pole, were then bound to his torso. Lead chains were locked to the metal rings, and the struggling, naked prince was led to the dungeons, ropes dragging from his ankles.


To be continued...
Last edited by snobound on Sun Sep 05, 2010 9:53 am, edited 4 times in total.
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Re: Medieval Hell (m/f)

Postby Jason Toddman » Sat Sep 04, 2010 11:26 am

Excellent start to a very promising looking story. You do fiction very well. Eager to read more. :big:
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Re: Medieval Hell (m/f)

Postby snobound » Sat Sep 04, 2010 12:47 pm

cricks5 wrote:For some odd reason, this bears remarkable similarities to one of my recent stories. Dear chap, I honestly hope you did not borrow any ideas from me without permission first.



Which one, cricks? I'll have to take a look. Certainly, if there are similarities it's purely coincidental. I'm sure that part two will veer considerably from anything you've written.
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Re: Medieval Hell (m/f)

Postby Jason Toddman » Sat Sep 04, 2010 1:01 pm

More! More! :big:
Last edited by Jason Toddman on Tue Sep 07, 2010 2:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
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Re: Medieval Hell (m/f)

Postby Jason Toddman » Sat Sep 04, 2010 2:38 pm

Awesome!
Last edited by Jason Toddman on Tue Sep 07, 2010 2:28 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
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Re: Medieval Hell (m/f)

Postby Jason Toddman » Sat Sep 04, 2010 2:46 pm

Great story!!!! :big:
Last edited by Jason Toddman on Tue Sep 07, 2010 2:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: Medieval Hell (m/f)

Postby snobound » Sat Sep 04, 2010 3:29 pm

Easy, boys. No harm, no foul. Let's keep this board the enjoyable place that it is.
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Medieval Hell .... Part 2: The Sentencing

Postby snobound » Sat Sep 04, 2010 6:14 pm

Medieval Hell: The Sentencing


With the Black Death ravaging the continent, justice and the rule of law were little more than fuzzy concepts from a time when rotting corpses weren't piled in the streets, awaiting the funeral pyre. The fair maiden Gwyn, dressed in what appeared to be a dirty cloth sack with holes cut for the arms and neck, knelt on the hard, cold stone floor in the center of his highness' throne room.

A heavy iron collar encircled Gwyn's slender neck, partially masked by her once flowing auburn hair, now caked with dirt and... was that blood? Manacles had been riveted to her wrists and ankles by the dungeon blacksmith, and a single iron ring dangled from each. These five rings were joined together by a heavy chain anchored to the stone floor between her filthy legs. Her face was tear-streaked, and faint lines ran down the eighteen year old's cheeks where the salty excretion had cleaned away some of the grime. It had been a mere week since she was dragged from the prince's bed chamber, though her shocking appearance was reminiscent of one who had spent months in the dungeons that festered in the depths of the ancient castle.

The king, resplendent in robes of the deepest and most vibrant vermillion, was already seated in his golden, jewel encrusted throne. The royal advisory council began filtering in from the massive reception room to which the throne room was adjacent. These self-important, self-indulgent, gluttonous windbags strode past the terrified girl as they made their way to their gilded accommodations on raised platforms to both the left and right of the chamber. The place had an almost carnival atmosphere, and the councilmen would jeer at the helpless Gwyn to the sheer delight of all present. One even spat at her, laughing as he took his seat with an enormous flagon of wine sloshing in his hand. These were the men whose charge it was to decide Gwyn's fate.

The door to an antechamber to the left of the king's throne burst open, and the raucous crowd fell immediately silent. Two soldiers exited, followed by the prince, the sight of whom elicited gasps from the assembled masses. The shirtless prince was trussed up, much as he was before, with a wooden pole bracing his bound upper arms at his back. This time, however, his wrists were secured at his front with heavy iron manacles. He too had a heavy iron collar encircling his neck, and a chain connected this to his shackled wrists and closely hobbled ankles.

The prince shuffled forward into the torchlight, making visible his badly blackened eye, as well as the bruises in various shades of purple that marred his formerly magnificent torso. "ALEXANDER! What have they done to you?" Gwyn shrieked as she made a hopeless lunge toward her battered forbidden lover. The chains went taut and she toppled forward, her face smashing into the floor with a sickening crunch.

The prince flailed his upper body, catching the soldiers off guard. He hadn't managed more than three or four clumsy steps forward before the men were on him. One gave the trembling prince a smart jab to the stomach, causing him to bend forward, gasping for air. Struggling to find his breath, the prince was half-carried to a position not more than twenty paces from where Gwen lay with blood pouring from her nose.

It was here that two chains descended from the vaulted ceiling, ending just inches from the granite floor, worn smooth from centuries of wear. The soldiers passed these chains through the rings on either end of the pole to which the prince was trussed. Together they wrenched the chains tightly upward, bringing the prince onto his tiptoes with a grunt. The pole was locked into position by yet more of the brutish soldiers, who then backed away, leaving the prince to his predicament. "Oh, Gwyn! Are you okay?" he wailed. "Gwyn?" The girl coughed and turned her bloodied head toward the helplessly bound Alexander, but made no effort to return to her knees.

"I'll get you out of this. I promise," he simpered before breaking down in sobs.

"SILENCE!" roared the king, now standing before his thrown. He allowed a few tense seconds to pass before beginning. "We are gathered here today on what, I am sorry to say, will likely prove to be a very sad and unfortunate occasion." The king paused, and glanced at his pitiful teenage son. "I must admit that it pains me to see my son, my flesh and blood- heir to my very throne- in such a state of disgrace." King Richard waved his robed arm in the direction of the bound boy, as if his current condition was validation enough of the decision about to be rendered forth by the obedient lapdog council.

"Prince Alexander's discretions have seriously jeopardized our pending alliance with the powerful armies of King Edward, our oldest and most dangerous adversary. I need not remind my son that it is his arranged blood bond with Princess Katherine that will finally end decades of bloodshed." The king paused again, allowing the logic of his persuasive argument to sink in to the mostly muddled minds of his many yes men.

The king went on. "Clearly, the prince's usual intelligence has been clouded by this... unsavory seductress." Richard gestured toward the pitiful Gwyn, whimpering with her cheek pressed against the hard stone. "Her sabotage has placed the kingdom in great peril. Had one of King Edward's many agents learned of my son's transgressions, the hard-fought peace treaty between our two lands would be rendered null and void, and fighting would surely ensue." The king was persuasive in his carefully reasoned argument. "Hence, the council has charged the commoner before us with treason."

"Mister chairman!" bellowed the king.

A plump, balding man in a maroon tunic stood. "Yes, your majesty?"

"Has the council reached a verdict on the charge of high treason?" the king enquired, maintaining the ruse of a civilized society.

"Yes, your majesty. It has," answered the pompous paunch of a man. He unrolled a scroll of parchment bearing a wax seal depicting the king's coat of arms. The council chairman began to read: "On this day, August the fifth, in the year of the lord 1341, by the powers vested in this body by his highness, King Richard IV, I hereby declare that Gwynivere, daughter of Charles, has been determined to be guilty of the capital offense of high treason." A satisfied murmur rose within the crowd.

"NO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" screamed the prince. "I'll never marry that pig! You can all go straight to hell!" Alexander was nearly delirious in his rage. Gwyn seemed oblivious to the fact that her fate was being decided before her.

"QUIET!" barked the soldier flanking Alexander's left side.

The proceedings resumed. "Has a sentence been prescribed?" asked the king.

"One has, your highness."

"What say you?" Richard demanded.

The chairman returned to the scroll. "The accused will succumb to death by torture."
The slight curl of a grin passed fleetingly over the council chairman's face.

"Manner?" enquired the king.

"Death by deprivation and exposure, your highness," answered the councilman. Again, gasps arose from those assembled.

Prince Alexander swooned, then fainted. His hobbled legs hung limply, the weight of his bruised body supported only by the wooden pole, bound securely to his chest and arms.

To be continued...
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Re: Medieval Hell (m/f) Parts 1 and 2

Postby Jason Toddman » Sat Sep 04, 2010 9:01 pm

Well, so far the story is suited to the title; I wouldn't want to be in that prince's shoes (assuming he is still wearing any) for anything. That's saying something, considering my masochistic nature.
I hope the outcome is more positive than seems likely at this point. Sure hope this doesn't spoil the prince's taste for TuGs either; that'd be a REAL tragedy. :mrgreen:
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Re: Medieval Hell (m/f) Parts 1 and 2

Postby dreadnaught3200 » Sat Sep 04, 2010 10:56 pm

Well done Snobound I'm really enjoying this!
There's a permanent tension in music isn't there? On one hand you have three chords, you know, four four and three chords. Then there's the people like me, who say "Well, why don't we add a fourth chord and put it in five four?" - Bill Bruford

Re: Medieval Hell (m/f) Parts 1 and 2

Postby Boundgal08 » Sun Sep 05, 2010 7:40 am

Snobound this is a really interesting story, its developing well! :)
BOUNDGIRL!
Probably the kinkiest woman you will ever meet!
I am a switch, I like to put a man in ropes and also have a man put me in ropes!
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Medieval Hell... Part 3: Construction

Postby snobound » Sun Sep 05, 2010 9:52 am

Medieval Hell: Construction


Ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping, ping. Tssssssssss. Ping, ping, ping... The piercing monotony of heavy hammer blows resumed as the blacksmith continued shaping the quenched iron bar. Countless implements of misery, death, and despair hung from iron hooks in the centuries old stone walls, as well as from the hulking wooden beams supporting the low ceiling. The heat of the blast furnace was smothering, and sweat poured from the master blacksmith and his young assistant as the instruments of Gwyn's impending torment took shape before her very eyes.

The maiden's once striking beauty had been replaced by filth and an expression of abject resignation. Her broken nose, however, had been crudely set- Gwyn's screams had pierced the muffled silence of the castle's dungeons. The condemned girl knelt, naked, in an intensely uncomfortable stress position dictated by the mercilessly heavy iron pillory locked around her neck and wrists.

The blacksmith's grimy fifteen year old apprentice had been unable to conceal his excitement as he applied the devious device. "I made it myself!" he had proclaimed brightly, as if it were a piece or handcrafted jewelry or furniture. Gwyn managed an incredulous glance at the boy as he hefted the two halves of the pillory to either side of her neck. "Come on. Hands," the boy said enthusiastically as Gwyn slowly positioned her wrists, one in front of the other, into the half-circle cut outs directly in front of her face- she was well past the point of resisting. Her wrist manacles, not designed for removal, rested just above the thick iron plates as the boy brought the two halves of the pillory together with a bone-jarring clank. Without a moment's hesitation he closed two heavy hasps, to which locks were quickly applied.

Gwyn flexed her fingers, just inches before her eyes, almost marveling at the effort this seemingly friendly boy had expended just to augment her misery. To him, she reminded herself, this was simply just another day at work. The flicker of pity she had felt for him passed, however, as the boy turned his attention to the short chains dangling from the underside of the pillory to the left and right of her neck. With a crude lock in one hand, the boy was just barely able to secure one of the short chains to the ring affixed to the manacle surrounding her left ankle, lifting it from the floor. The boy repeated this additional torture with Gwyn's right ankle, causing her to balance the entirety of her meager weight on the tips of her toes and knees.

Gwyn whimpered as the boy stood back to admire his handiwork, unknowingly clutching the bulge beneath his heavily soiled apron. "Talented, ain't he? laughed the older master blacksmith between hammer blows. Gwyn remained silent. Already, her legs were beginning to cramp up. "That ought to keep her occupied for today, James," said the older man. "Now why don't you stoke the furnace some."

Taking shape before the miserable Gwyn was what appeared to be a ridiculously over-constructed hexagonal bird cage, except that the buzzards soon to be circling over it would never enter its interior.

To be continued...
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Re: Medieval Hell (m/f) Parts 1 Through 3

Postby snobound » Sun Sep 05, 2010 10:10 am

To help clarify the pillory I described in part 3.... closest match I could find :wink:
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Re: Medieval Hell (m/f) Parts 1 Through 3

Postby Jason Toddman » Sun Sep 05, 2010 3:44 pm

Holy cats! WOW! Sweet!
Is this just a picture you have Snobound, or do you actually possess that thing?
You must be related to my old friend David!!! You seem to be as versatile with (and devoted to) bondage gear as he was, if not even more so! :big:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...

Re: Medieval Hell (m/f) Parts 1 Through 3

Postby snobound » Mon Sep 06, 2010 12:37 pm

Jason Toddman wrote:Holy cats! WOW! Sweet!
Is this just a picture you have Snobound, or do you actually possess that thing?
You must be related to my old friend David!!! You seem to be as versatile with (and devoted to) bondage gear as he was, if not even more so! :big:


No!...I only wish. I'll tell you though, my entire basement would be nothing but bondage gear and dungeon furniture if I didn't have so much damn company. As it is, I have to stuff two large trunks and a file cabinet with "toys" when my folks come to visit!
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Re: Medieval Hell (m/f) Parts 1 Through 3

Postby Jason Toddman » Mon Sep 06, 2010 12:44 pm

Bet if you really tried you could find someone willing to store your stuff for you at *their* house if they got to use it - or get it used on them!
If I lived anywhere near you I'd make you such an offer myself!!! :twisted:
Dare to be different... and make a difference.
To boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before...