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The Court

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Bright sunlight lances through the ancient windows of the castle and long fingers of light touch my naked body. I can smell the scent of the ancients all around me. The chains that bind me to the altar are tight and my wrists are weeping tears of blood. The smoke from the incence burners whirls in lazy eddies and highlights the sunlight with a tint of grey. My Lord stands to my right and, as is the custom, I have to have my virginity proved before he can take me as his wife. He speaks a tongue I do not understand, the words sounding harsh and gutteral. In his armour, I cannot see his face, only the mean slits of his visor. Again he speaks. The others in the room murmer a ritualistic response. Then the ancient crone who led me into the great hall runs her long and ragged fingernails over the softness of my stomach. She lays the flat of her hand over my womb and pronounces that I will bear many sons. Strange that I hear her in English. Another ritual response and then my Lord riases my knees and spreads them wide placing his sword between them. He speaks to me now, but even though I do not understand his language, I know that I am being told that I must not let the sword fall. I press my knees against it until its point draws a single drop of blood to form on my right knee. I hear movement. A face appears out of the smoky light and I feel warm breath on my sex. My labia are spread wide apart by fingers more used to battle that to love. The stranger looks and says loudly "Intacta". He moves away. I am forced to allow the whole congregation to inspect my innocence. When the last has gone, my Lord removes the sword from between my knees. He pronounces his intent and then stands, still clad in his armour between my trembling thighs. I feel movement and now he is holding the hilt of his sword at my sex. In a loud voice used to command, he tells all present of his intention. He is to wed me to his sword. By his sword shall I be defended. By his sword shall I be fed. By his sword will my life end should I bring dishonour to his Hose. White hot pain lances up from my violated hymen as he pushes the hilt into me. I look down and see the blood of my innocence coat the handle. I am his now. He withdraws the sword and replaces it immediately with his manhood. Infront of the blessed congregation he fucks me. His chain mail grates hard on my clit and he fills me to bursting. His pace quickens and then there is a satisfying groan and I feel his seed spill into me. He withdraws and points at his penis wet with my blood and my juices. He murmers something in his native tongue and the congregation applauds. The other men present take my Lord into the banquet. There is a further service my body must provide. The women of the Court come forward. Each on, in practised moves kisses my clit once and then they take a small drop of my Lord's semen into their mouths. With each kiss my arousal builds until the last girl, a servant of no more that 13 years of age performs the last kiss I receive. My orgasm tears through me dipping my cervix into the pool of sperm in my vagina. Each convulsion sucks his seed into my womb.I dont need to wait for mature to tell me that I am pregnant with my Lord's child. I know it as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow. In the next room I hear the drunken carousing of the men of the Court. Tomorrow, they will perform the ritual again on another. I lay back on the altar upon which I sacrificed my virginity and look at the incence smoke that curls above me mockingly. Tomorrow, the altar will receive the virgin blood of another.This time, I will be one who bestows the kiss to the ragged wound.

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