(Version 1.0. Tags: Villainous male knight/virtuous female squire, reverse-trap, rape, forced oral, drunken victim)

(Brief forward: this is an edited-for-brevity-and-sense version of an ERP written by my partner and me. This story is best if you’ve read the first part. Part I is back here: http://pastebin.com/WsKCBwpK)

Alex was intent on surviving Sir Henric, and during the daytime that meant doing everything he told her to do with gusto while the other knights and squires saw. Since her first night in the spring he hadn’t raped her again, but he had been hanging it over her head that he would if he ever felt like it. She endured him watching her change her clothes and shut her eyes and tried to pretend that she was other places when he pushed her around and touched her over and under her clothes. Most days she got dressed as fast as she could, ran out to the field to train with the other squires, and never went back to Henric’s room until she absolutely had to.

Henric had expected his squire to be as disgusting a failure in everything as she had been at sneaking out her first night of being his squire, but she was proving him wrong.

She had promised him, in an effort to keep his mouth shut, that she would work hard and she hadn’t gone back on that promise. It made his lips pull into a snarl to see her jogging laps with a backpack full of rocks on her back--she wasn’t fast but damn her she just kept going in everything.

The other squires were always there in the field of course, as were their knights who were in name only Henric’s brothers. Usually a few soldiers were loitering around playing cards. Henric knew that even though he was almost working her to death, Alex preferred to be out here and spend her entire day under the sun. She was clever, and had realized that Henric would never dare let anyone know what kind of man he really was. He couldn’t strike her out there, couldn’t grab her deliciously round ass or reach under her shirt to squeeze the soft breasts that she tied down, nor could he pin her to the wall with his body so he could grind against her.

Alex stuck close to the three other squires and was fast friends with all of them. Glenn was the goody-goody one who made Henric sick to listen to, Ellis was the tall boy outgrowing his clothes every week, and Micah made good-natured mischief (Henric hated him in particular, for he was as bad as his knight Sir Cuthbert). Alex was shorter than all of them but gods damn her if she wasn’t doing just as well as them in her practice and studies. Her capabilities left Henric less to torment her with when they were alone.

His dark words were intended to weaken her and place doubt in her mind. He spoke often of the corruption of their knightly order to try to make her second guess her life choices, but her response was the same every time: “If there’s something wrong with knighthood, it’s that they let people like you be part of it.”

And every time she gave that response he struck her somewhere the bruise wouldn’t show. He hated the stupid girl and her unfair life and he was determined to tear her ideals from her and show her her own foolishness. In the mean time, he wanted her to have nothing, nothing but him. 

He was surprised, but shouldn’t have been, when he saw the way that his squire sometimes looked at Ellis when she thought no one was watching her. Henric felt himself burn with possessive jealousy every time. The knight knew what that wide-eyed, blushing look on a young girl’s face meant.

And of course, because of that, he was infuriated to find one afternoon that Sir Cuthbert had let the boys take off into the woods for the rest of the day as reward for hard work. Fuming, he had retreated to his quarters to wait for his squire to return. It was a better option than being the bad guy who hunted her down and pulled her away from her friends.

Alex, for her part, had the best day she’d had since coming to the barracks. By sunset she found herself sitting around an improvised campfire with the boys. She was totally at home with them and took turns bragging about their best pranks and games as pages, but was caught off guard when Micah pulled a brown glass bottle from his backpack.

“The Hell is that?” asked Ellis. Everyone leaned in.

“Sir Cuthbert gave it to me,” Micah said as he opened the bottle. “To share, of course. It’s rum.”

Alex initially resisted the allure of the sweet smelling alcohol, but by the end when Glenn and Micah were done throwing up she was as drunk as the rest of them. Possibly more so, but she had discovered she wasn’t absolutely sick so much as she was tripping over her own feet and trying not to laugh.

Micah hung on her shoulder for stability and Glenn leaned on Ellis as they bumbled back to the barracks under the moon, loudly scaring all manner of woodland life. Once they were back to the barracks they dropped off Glenn and Micah by their knights’ doors (and ran away to avoid being scolded before they could go inside). 

Alex and Ellis parted with sheepish smiles and red cheeks to stumble away to their own knights’ rooms. She stopped and swayed, looking over her shoulder as Ellis walked away. To the sixteen-year-old girl, he was handsome and her addled brain wondered what would happen if she ran up to him and told him everything.

But she wasn’t that drunk, and she was nowhere near that stupid. So he pulled her gaze from him and went back to her room.

Alex didn’t even think about Sir Henric until her hand was on the doorknob. She took a few deep breaths to pray that he was asleep and she would be able to slink to her pile of furs to sleep, but it was not to be. Henric was awake and reading.

Sir Henric sat up in his loft to look down at her when she came in the door. 

"Well, well." He patronized her. "How was your night out with the boys?"

She didn't look up at him. "Fine," she said laconically. The less said, the less slurred. She went to her furs, but Henric was already leaping down to her level and grabbing her by her short brown hair.

“What happened tonight?” he demanded.

"We went out near the springs and sat around a fire," she said, not looking at him so he wouldn't see that she was red-nosed and wouldn’t smell her breath. Her heart was pounding and she spoke slowly to try to keep her words as straight and clear as possible while her head spun. “I’m tired, please just let me go to sleep.”

He twisted her head and dragged her closer to him, then closer to the stone steps that would take her up to his sleeping area. “Do you think I’m as much of an idiot as every other knight in these barracks? Who gave you alcohol?”

"Sir Cuthbert gave it to Micah," she admitted now that it was obvious that he was onto her. Now that she’d cast aside her attempt at lying, she found herself getting angry at Henric, angry that he was keeping her from bed and pulling her hair. She snapped at him, "We drank it, okay? Let go of my hair!"

He tossed her by her hair to the floor, pulling the drunken girl off-balance with ease so she landed on her side. Her retaliatory viciousness infuriated him but he held it inside for the moment. "I'll have to have a talk to Cuthbert about his squire. In the mean time, however, I believe you need to disciplined."

Alex looked up at him, eyes and mouth wide with devastation and outrage. Being disciplined by Henric would not be discipline. She got up unsteadily and started to move away from him back to her corner. “I’m going to bed,” she said, as if by being loud she might change his mind.

"Not on those furs you're not." He snatched her up by her waist (slimmer than it looked under baggy boys’ clothes) and tossed her over his shoulder while he climbed to his loft. She twisted and flailed, but she wasn’t the first drunken girl he’d had to pull away somewhere.

“Put me down!” she slurred. She sounded more resolute than Henric preferred.

He did, tossing her onto his bed. She slept on animal skins, he slept on goose down. Before she could even get her bearings the knight was on top her her. 

"What happened out there? Hm?" His face neared hers and he whispered like a snake. "Getting a few drinks with Ellis? Wishing he would be more than a fellow squire to you?"

Whatever Alex had been thinking he might say, that hadn’t been part of it. He derailed also anything else she was thinking of saying, so the confused but honest truth came out. “Well, yeah I guess I think he’s pretty great and… I… well he’s… so yeah, whatever. I wish he was more.” She was too surprised by her own opinion to remember her anger.

Henric glared at the pinned with dark blue eyes and let his jealous feelings swirl around and squeeze at his insides. He thought of what he’d do to her, how he would punish her for running off, drinking, speaking to him out of turn, fantasizing about anyone. But she interrupted again. “Get off!”

"Oh no, you little slut." Henric’s words rose to quiet rage and he grabbed her tightly by her neck.. "Whether or not you ended up just wishing and thinking about that idiot boy, you remember one thing. You are my squire here, you belong to me."

Her anger in turn steeled her, and she discovered that when she didn’t think about it her tongue was a weapon. "I am not a slut and I do not belong to anyone! I was born free to noble line! What about you, huh? Where were you from again? Some little place on a river of shit? And who ever heard of your house, if you even have one?"

Her words prodded every sore spot in his pride and dug under his skin like parasites. He reared back and pulled her up, rolled her over and pressed her torso face first to the wall. 

Henric’s other hand was at her belt, undoing it. “I am Henric of house Malyns, as you well know. And squire, if you ever speak ill of my name again you will regret it. Noble or not, sluts like you need to get the punishment you deserve.” He tore her pants down and slapped her ass hard enough that they both knew it would bruise.

Alex yelped and tried to twist, but was held in place. She wanted to reach back and hit him, but her hands couldn’t reach well behind her. She wanted to kick, but with her pants around her knees that was also out of the question. His hand came down on her butt again and again to calm his rage, if only for a moment. The girl was stiff and trying to keep herself from squealing with every impact.

She was trapped, and knew that he wouldn’t have dragged her up to his bed if he wasn’t planning on fucking her again. Drunkenly, she resolved to make the best of it.

"Oh, quite a name you have," she grunted, spitting fire. "Belonging to naught but rapists and thugs and whores and beggars in the shit river town you’re from, I imagine. What a fine lineage you hail from, Sir."

He pressed her face into the stone while his opposite hand reached beneath his pillow and pulled a dagger. This was no mere tiny blade, no. This would have been a full sword for a halfling. He brought the steel blade to the side of her face so she would see it. "Speak one more ill word and I will cut that tongue right out of your little mouth."

"No you won't," the drunk girl said to the stone wall. "Because then you would have to explain it to your brothers, wouldn't you?"

She cleared her throat and mocked his lowborn accent and mimicked his voice, "'The boy was talking about the cowardly rats I'm descended from, so I cut out his tongue.' Yeah right. You wouldn't dare."

He brought the knife to her back and cut her dark red tunic from her with ease. "I'll just have to get creative then, won't I?" he rested the sharp tip of the blade on her white shoulder and dared her to keep speaking. He was rock hard with the power he had over her.

Under her tunic she still wore the strip of cloth that bound her breasts to her ribs. She knew, and hoped that Henric had realized pragmatically by now that it was in both of their best interests that he not ruin that piece of fabric. Unlike tunics, she only possessed one of those, and somehow she was relieved when he had the presence of mind to pull it down with his free hand because it meant that he didn’t mean to destroy it. She was free to say what she wanted.

"Get creative? You should get creative and weave me a new tunic, peasant," she hissed, her words slurring more than before. Never in her life would Alex have spoken to anyone who wasn’t Henric that way, and she was surprised to hear such nasty things coming from her own mouth.

"Quiet," He pierced her skin as casually as was possible even as he exploded with fury inside and his cock throbbed, then dragged the blade to her opposite shoulder, and Alex inhaled sharply at the pain, her breath stuttering. The long dripping wound left behind wasn’t the worst he could have given her and they both knew it, but there would be a scar and there would be plenty of blood. He pulled her back now from the wall and pushed her off the foot of his bed. He rose and planted a foot on her flat stomach, the tips of his toes resting between her breasts as he unbuckled his belt and pushed down his pants to show her how engorged his penis was. Looking up at it, for the first time seeing it in light and not just feeling it against and inside of her body, sent a very sobering shiver through her body. 

For a long moment she was more frightened of it than she was of Henric, but reality set in a moment later and she remembered: He is my enemy. All of his body is dangerous but his mind’s the worst.

Once more she was grabbed and pulled to where she didn’t want to be, up to her knees as Henric settled down at the foot of the bed. She grabbed his thighs for stability and to keep him from pulling her head in towards his crotch.

“I will bite your cock off,” she growled.

“No you won’t,” Henric assured with utter confidence as he pulled her so close that her lips brushed against the underside of his shaft and his whole body tingled at the pink softness of her mouth. She tried to recoil but he didn’t let her. He ran two fingers back across her cheek, then hovered his knife at the back of her neck. “Because then you’d have to explain what your sweet little lips were doing wrapped around it, young squire. Get to work.”

She shut her eyes and wrapped her trembling lips around his cock, forced to taste the bead of precum at the tip. The squire had no idea what she was supposed to do with the head inside her mouth rubbing against her tongue, but doubted she was doing it right. And of course she knew that harsh words would follow.

Henric pressed himself deeper into her face, "Now suck." He cocked his head as he examined her expression of fear and disgust as her tongue moved around his member. "I bet you know all about doing this." He cracked that smirk again as he made it his turn to let loose the cutting remarks while she had her mouth full.

Her eyes flicked up to his to glare at her knight forcefully, and she grunted with displeasure as he pushed her head farther down his shaft, but she did as he instructed and began to suck on his member.

"That's it," he spoke to her like he would talk down to a pet. "That's a good."

Somehow Alex tolerated him, and for long minutes the only sounds in the room were his continued grunts as he thrust slightly into her mouth. Her lips had made a perfect seal around him while she sucked and it was perfectly quiet. His squire’s tears were filled him with satisfaction. He had her right where he wanted her, right at his feet.

But like any repetitive task it was possible to escape, in a way. The squire eventually closed her eyes and pretended she was somewhere else. Dreadfully tired, and with the alcohol making her sleepy, it was easier than Alex might have though to just let herself drift away. Soon she was sucking on him and rubbing her tongue rhythmically while she looked almost as if she wasn't aware of what she was doing.

That was unacceptable to Henric. She needed to feel punished for leaving, punished for drinking, punished for coming home late, and miserable that she had ever thought she would have a chance with a miserable squire of some other miserable knight. It was imperative to Henric that she understand that she was his.

He pulled her from him with a wet popping sound, a few strings of her spit mixed with his precum still connected her red lips to him. No startled sound came, merely a soft groan of relief.

“We are not done yet you miserable piece of shit.” He put the knife down and hauled her back up onto the bed, making her stumble-crawl on her hands and knees until he got behind her and pushed her face into the pillows. The blood from her wound had seeped down her back when she had been kneeling, and now it seeped up her back as he bent her over the other way. A few drops fell to his sheets.

She was wet from fear, wet from the sight and taste of him. The girl never realized that ever since he’d first fucked her, every time he had grabbed her or hit her or gotten close to her, her panic and fear of pain made her wet. To Henric, it was one of her finest features, and his member glided into her tight hole.

He leaned over her back to whisper in her ear, "You're with me now. You might as well be from the same shitty town in the middle of nowhere as me.”

She gave a sickened grunt every time he thrust into her roughly. She hadn't been ready for sex, and it was painful. "I am nothing like you, you piece of slime," she replied, looking sideways at him. She was grateful that he didn't have his knife at hand.

Two could play at that. “You are nothing like me. I’m not so weak and pathetic as to get wet when beaten and fucked like an animal.”

Alex was, suddenly, at a loss for words. She tried to speak, but only another moan came out as she felt his member rub against some horrid sweet spot inside of her, and suddenly she was sopping wet. Their bodies now made a wet smacking sound every time he thrust into her fully.

"Tell me," he grunted. "Do you enjoy this?" 

She was stunned, trying to scramble for the words that had abandoned her. She hated him with every part of her but--

He didn't even wait for an answer. "Of course you do, you little whore. You're sopping wet while I take you." 

The hand in her hair forced her head sideways again so he could look at her, and eyes filled with pure terror as he twisted her neck. He was right, she was wet. She was so wet. And what scared her was that she wondered slightly if he was right. Did it make her a slut because she couldn't control her body when he raped her? Alex didn't know, and looked at him over her shoulder with fear. "I don't enjoy any part of this," she managed to tell him truthfully between unhappy moans. Even then, she was clamped down hard around him, her muscles tense and tight on him. Henric thought that if she was holding onto him any more tightly, he’d never be able to pull out of her. Not that would have been so bad.

"Your lips say this, but your body says otherwise. Let's quiet your filthy mouth, shall we?" Henric pressed his thumb and forefinger into opposite sides of her face, digging them between her teeth so she would have to open her mouth and keep it open. The knight forced his own lips to hers and stole her first kiss. Oh, he was on the edge of orgasm, teetering there and holding off as long as he could to cause the maximum damage to her soul. She made a whining sound and tried to push him back with her tongue, but he enjoyed the sweet taste of the rum that she’d been drinking that evening.

With a sharp inhale as he pulled away, he released her face to let her head collapse back to the pillows. "I could get drunk off your lips. Just how much did you have?"

She didn’t remember. It felt like it had been so long ago. Less than a third of a bottle at least. But she was so dizzy, so tired, that she never bothered to tell him. He was throbbing inside of her and she felt it every time. It could have been a good feeling--a great feeling, perhaps--except that he was doing it to make her miserable.

He came inside of her and brought both hands to her hips to pull her ass back against him so he could be as deeply hidden as possible. Her hands grabbed fistfulls of his pillows and sheets and other fabrics absorbed her tears.

After he breathed heavily five times, he pulled out of her and she skittered away to the other side of the bed and futilely used a blanket to try to wipe away any cum on her outside. She didn’t know if it could do any good, only that the less of it that was on her, the better.

He sat up with immense speed and wrapped his arms around her back. One hand was firmly wrapped around her waist, clutching her hip, while the other held her neck firmly, propping up her chin. The heat of his voice rushed against the back of her ear as he whispered, "Now, let’s get some sleep before tomorrow." He collapsed back the the bed and pinned her legs with his long enough to pull the blankets over them both.

Alex tried to buck and squirm futilely, but only wore herself down further. She muttered something drunken, but her shaking faded into furious snores.

He held her still all night.