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Jingling Bud
a43a6c
Since apparently BritishHat really wanted something with the rapey man in it.
After a long day of walking, stopping, talking, drinking, then walking again, Clay and Dirine had stopped for the night in a makeshift camp on the side of the eastward road. The pair sat next to a dying fire, both deep in thought. Clay yawned and stretched, and turned to Dirine. "I think I'm about to fall asleep here, Diri." "Oh, well, goodnight, Clay," she said, as he slipped into the tent. She sat outside for a while, occasionally feeding the fire. A few minutes of utter silence passed by.
She took the opportunity to think. She thought about the roads they were travelling, the places they planned to visit, the people they were to meet. She thought about the people she had already met, like those two dragons. They easily ranked in the top ten strangest things she had seen on the road. She thought about her and Clay's relationship, and how she could possibly get him to notice her in a romantic matter. It was then something very heavy and blunt hit her across the back of her head, sending her sprawling to the ground.
For a second, her entire world was a shifting mass of pain. Though she was dazed, she could make out Clay's voice. "Dirine?!" Focusing on reality, she arduously flipped herself over to see Clay emerge from the tent and get beset upon by a figure in armor. They traded blows for a few seconds, and after recieving a painful looking jab to the bridge of the nose, Clay staggered backward. The man in armor took advantage of this pause to produce a knife and plunge it into Clay's gut.
Dirine screamed his name. Clay went limp and slumped to the ground as the armored man tucked the knife away. Dirine attempted to scramble to her feet but was met with a strong kick to the face, tossing her onto her back once again. This time she weakly attempted to crawl the other way, sobbing in terror and anguish. She managed to travel a few feet, before being halted by another painful kick, this time to the ribs. Barely conscious, she felt a hand grab the back of her shirt and pull her away from the road, away from safety, toward the back of the tent. The man lifted her up a distance and tossed her on her stomach behind the tent.
Despite the bolts of pain shooting through her body, Dirine still struggled. she attempted to turn over to face her attacker but was stopped by a strong hand pushing down on her. It hadn't yet registered to her what exactly this man wanted, but his intentions were made perfectly clear when she felt her leggings being pulled down from her hips. WIth a yell and a burst of strength, she shoved the man off of her and jumped to her feet. She had only just began to run when she felt a hand around her ankle and suddenly she was falling. Her head collided with the ground, jarring a pointed tooth loose and rendering her almost knocking her out.
Again the armored man caught up with her and held her down. Bruised and bleeding, she had no more fight left in her. All she could do was sob. She felt her leggings being pulled off yet again, and only weakly struggled against it. In a moment her leggings were off, her legs exposed to the cold air. Another tug, this time on her undergarments. Just like last time it was slid down off of her limp legs and tossed aside. Dirine's lower half was completely exposed to the low temperature-- and her attacker.
There was a noise from the man behind her; shifting and unbuckling, metal plates brushing against one another. Dirine pawed at the ground ahead of her, still trying to escape with the little strength she had left. Between her own weakness and the man holding her down, she made little progress. The noises behind her ceased and the hand on her back slowly slid down to her hips. Another hand grasped her on the other side, roughly squeezing her. She was lifted onto her knees, her rear sticking in the air. Dirine knew what was going to come next, but it was still a shock to her when she felt something pressing against the delicate area between her legs, and she still screamed when it suddenly entered her.
Dirine held her head between her arms, sobbing and gasping in pain. The man pounded into her from behind, forcing her into the ground with each thrust. To Dirine, time moved slowly, the man's every move magnified a thousand times in intensity. The man delivered each painful thrust with greater and greater speed and roughness, drilling deeper inside Dirine each time. Very soon she was screaming in pain each time, the man going as deep as her body could take it and then some. Her tears, her blood, and her fluids marked the cold earth beneath her.
With one final, forceful, excruciating thrust deep inside her, Dirine felt a blindingly hot sensation within her, starkly contrasting with how cold she felt outside. The man mercifully stopped his movements, and she felt him slowly slide out of her as he moved away. The man gave her a violent shove on her rear, her limp body falling flat on the ground, his seed seeping out of her sore nether regions.
The man replaced his armor, buckled straps and strolled away down the road as if nothing had transpired there. Dirine was left laying on the cold ground, damp with the byproduct of her ordeal. The clothes she was wearing that weren't removed were torn and covered in a mixture of blood and mud, completely ruined. Between her overwhelming exhaustion and her incredible pain, she finally lapsed into unconsciousness, her body finally slipping into a deep, merciful sleep.
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