Literotic asexstories – Her Medieval Fantasy Ch. 02 by MelaMeela,MelaMeela
“Pour me some wine bitch,” one of the mercenaries ordered while not taking his eyes off my tits. That’s all the men were looking at, my naked body and nothing more.
It was morning, and the warband was having breakfast. I was there, completely naked, collared and chained, as the slave maid of the group, serving drinks to the fully clothed men who were all superior to me by default.
“She has amazing tits, doesn’t she?” Milo asked.
“Fabulous,” one of the men answered.
“Are you fuckers even listening to me?!”
“I think the bitch is talking,” Malcolm said. “What is it, slut?”
I repeated to them that I was a respected warrior, no different from them, and that their misogynistic treatment of me was unforgivable.
“Hear that lads?” Collin said. “The girl wants a man’s place.”
They all laughed mockingly. The two guys next to me gave my ass a spank each. I just stayed there, standing with the tray in my hands and an angry expression that was hiding the arousal and excitement I was feeling.
One of the mercenary characters called Eomir suggested an idea: that I write a letter explaining why I was worthy to be treated as an equal among this fellowship of men.
“We’ll read it out loud and decide if your arguments are valid,” he said.
I was about to thank them for their fairness, when Milo came up with an idea.
“But,” he said, “you’ll have to write it without your hands.”
“Huh?” I said. “Then how do I write it?”
He gestured for me to climb on the large table in the middle of the encampment. At first, I thought he wanted me standing on it, but he quickly grabbed my hair and pulled me down on all fours.
“Crawl to the middle,” he ordered, slapping my ass. I obeyed. Once I was in the middle of the table, naked and on all fours, surrounded by all those men, Ryan brought a piece of parchment and a quill pen and placed them in front of me.
“Open your whore mouth,” Ryan ordered. I did so, and he placed the quill pen between my teeth. I closed my mouth, and I was now holding the pen with my teeth, the writing tip towards the parchment.
“You’re writing like this,” Milo said. “Go on, start.”
I groaned at the injustice. How was I supposed to do this? I brought my head down and dipped the pen in the ink. The instant I was about to make contact with the parchment, a sharp, painful slap hit my bare butt, and it made me draw a line instead of writing letters.
“Don’t mind us,” one of the men said. “Just enjoying the sound of this beautiful ass you have.”
After that, the slaps just multiplied. I was barely able to write coherently, as the sudden sharp pain of the slaps made me shake every time, and I generally wasn’t used to holding a pen in my mouth, you know? The entire fifteen men gang was slapping away at my bare ass in the most degrading way possible while I tried to write like a bitch on all fours who was eating from a bowl with her mouth.
The utter and complete humiliation went on for minutes, until I had finally given up and decided I’d written enough. By that point, my ass felt like it was burning. Milo took the parchment and looked at it. Surprisingly, my hand… well, “mouth writing” was somewhat intelligible, and he read it out loud. I had written how I was every bit their equal, how my expertise in combat could help them win, how I was respected warrior in the other kingdoms, and how my deeds in other battlefields earned me the same respect they deserved.
“Fair enough points,” the mercenary called Logan said. “But every discussion has its two sides of the coin. Let’s look at the other side of the argument.”
Logan pulled me by my hair and threw me off the table only to make me stand up again, pulling my head back so my tits were more shown off.
“First counter-argument,” he said, “those amazing tits. Look at them. Perky, round, the perfect kind of medium sized breasts a lass should have.” He was walking me in front of all the men like an item being shown off for a sales pitch.
“Second argument,” Malcolm added, slapping my ass, “this perfect, tight little ass. The acoustics of it are absolutely perfect when slapped. No girl with an ass like this can be meant to wear armor.”
They kept on listing arguments, all of them essentially about how my bare body was pleasing to the male gaze, and that this was proof that I was meant to be sexualized, not treated with dignity and respect.
“I’d also add the perfection with which she serves food and drinks,” another mercenary added, as I was being thrown around from man to man who pulled my hair and showed off a certain part of my body.
Collin grabbed my arm and turned me towards the mercenary group. “I think our evaluation has proved its point. The bitch’s usefulness as eye candy and as a submissive far outweighs anything she has to offer as a warrior. Therefore, I move that she be kept as she is, in the place where she belongs.”
The whole group acclaimed the decision. “This is so unfair!” I yelled. “I’m just like one of you!”
“We’re men, you stupid slut. You’re not. End of the discussion.”
I was about to retort, but Mark intervened: “I say we give her one last chance. Ellewine claims to be a great warrior. Let’s see if she is as equal to us men as she claims.”
They brought a large log of wood. They took turns lifting it, and though some struggled to do it, all did it rather easily. When it was my turn, I barely managed to get it off the ground. It was met with mockery and laughter from the men.
Next, they threw me against the table, and took turns sitting opposite me. The challenge was arm wrestling, and unsurprisingly, I lost every single time against every single one of them.
“Well mates, I think the point is clear,” mercenary Edgard said. “She is exactly as you’d expect an average woman to be, physically weaker than all of us. Useless on the battlefield.”
Malcolm grabbed my hair and threw me to my knees. He restrained my wrists together behind my back using the chain that could connect the cuffs on both my wrists, and ordered me to keep my head down, which I did happily. Never in my life had I felt so humiliated, so looking down was much easier than facing the raw, unquestionable superiority of the men surrounding me and towering above me.
“You’re a girl, Ellewine,” Ryan said. “The battlefield is men’s affair, and you don’t belong there.”
“It’s not fair…” I moaned.
Some of my male friends leaned down, protectively caressing my hair. “Awn, Ellewine, darling,” Michael said, “there’s no need to be sad. There’s no shame in accepting who you are.”
“You’re weak,” Ryan said. “But you’re sexy, and obedient, and great to look at. Face it girl, you’re not cut out for being a warrior. The sooner you accept your actual skill set, the happier you’ll be.”
“Here,” Malcolm said, grabbing my hair and forcing me to look up with my sad eyes. “I know exactly what comforts a naturally submissive slut like this one. Worshipping something phallic.” There was a thick, long cucumber in his hand, and he brought it to my lips. “Open up,” he said, and I did.
I took the cucumber in my mouth and began sucking it like it was a cock. And you know what? He was right. It felt extremely comforting to have a hard, phallic object reminiscent of a powerful, masculine cock in my soft, feminine mouth. I felt even more soft and feminine due to my kneeling position at the feet of men towering over me, all those men being fully clothed and armored while I was completely naked.
I couldn’t believe what I was doing. The Kylie from two days before would have had a brain meltdown had she been told that in 48 hours, she’d be naked among fifteen men whom she acted submissive towards, and were making her suck a cucumber as a symbolic representation of her feminine surrender to the band’s male supremacy.
“Feeling better, girl?” Malcolm asked while their hands still petted my hair protectively. I nodded while occasionally gagging on the massive fruit. “Alright, keep at it, know your place.”
The men left me there, all alone, to suck on the phallic cucumber as a symbolic act of worship of the masculine. It was actually hard: they had just chained my hands behind my back, and therefore I had to use my mouth to position the massive cucumber vertically against the ground so it stood upright, allowing me to suck on it easily.
It fell a few times, and so I was constantly struggling to put it back in place, pathetically kneeling on the ground and using my mouth like an animal, far away from the men who weren’t even paying attention to me anymore and were focusing on the plans for the offensive against the Reds. I loved being put apart from the men, as that total segregation alone was enough to arouse me.
The second day passed with me mostly doing more of the same serving drinks and being humiliated viciously. Malcolm had been right: sucking on the cucumber had been extremely cathartic.
Evening came, and my gang of seven friends from college was once again inside their tent. I entered it and found them sitting, drinking and playing cards.
“Ah, there’s Ellewine, the elven bitch who thinks she can be one of the men. What do you want?”
“I was wondering, do your trousers all have a fly or an opening?” I asked. Confused, all the men nodded. “Ok, good. So hypothetically, you could pull out your cocks without pulling down your pants? You’d stay fully clothed otherwise?”
“Yes,” Malcolm said, “but why are you asking all this?”
“Well you know… You’re obviously using clothing here as a symbolic language, a status indicator. You’re men, therefore you have authority, therefore you wear clothes. I’m a woman, so I’m kept completely naked. We can’t compromise this.”
“Yes but why the fly part?”
I took a deep breath. I had entered the LARP as a good student, a gentle bookworm geek. Now I was turning into more and more of a slut.
“You see, your cucumber idea was effective. It really did cheer me up, worshipping something phallic like that… I want more of it.”
Leave a Reply