Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/7421824. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: Other Fandom: Original_Work Relationship: OMC/other(s) Character: Orginal_Characters_-_Character Additional Tags: beastiality, Knotting, Implied_were-creatures, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Explicit_Rape, Humiliation Stats: Published: 2016-07-07 Words: 2841 ****** The Castle ****** by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving Summary The castle provide for them, the prize is their young ones Notes I blame this on "Lady Knight" though this has nothing to do with that book whatsoever. Be advised that the work below contains rape/beastiality against a minor. And as always, if you think I missed tags or warnings let me know. Comments, kudos and constructive critism is most welcome It’s visible from miles away, the gigantic castle that looms in the middle of nothing, made entirely of stone, surrounded by a wall higher than five men standing on each other’s shoulders and the only entrance barred by an iron gate. Moving closer - much closer - it becomes clear that the castle isn’t the only structure in this barren land, as a village is tucked in beneath the stone wall. It grew from just a few servants’ houses centuries ago, but now it sustains almost a thousand souls who rely on the castle for work, food, protection and the castle provides them - and if sometimes men come from the castle and take the young with them, that is the prize they pay for a safe and prosperous life, and after all most of them come back home. Ten girls and boys who have turned fourteen in the past six months are gathered at the school building, waiting for the silent men who are going to lead them to the castle. The atmosphere is gloomy, every youth silent their usual high spirits dampened by the oppressive worry from the adults in the room, nerves bared and anxiety running high. Nobody really knows what’s going to happen, except that they will be brought to the castle and in the next days, a week at most, some of them will come back, will resume their lives in the village, working and aging until they have children of their own, and will then be back in this room, watching them being taken away, praying for their safe return. But some of them, usually never more than three, will never come back, and the prospect of being one of those, not knowing what’s in store if you are one of those, is a frightening thought. And then the door opens and five men dressed in black are there, weapons drawn as if they expect resistance where none has ever been, and they use them to herd the boys and girls out, into a waiting carriage and then they’re off towards the iron gate without as much as a last goodbye, most of the villagers hiding in their houses with the lights out, gone to bed early, whispering prayers or thanksgivings, a few crying for having to have paid the prize for the castle’s protection. Through the darkness they go, standing as close together as possible to shelter themselves from the freezing wind, and then they’re through the gate and the men motions for them to get off the carriage other men leading them through a door where they’re separated, the boys going left the girls right, and lead to a bath house. Silently they strip before lowering themselves into the tubs filled with warm water, and not until they feel warm again and stand up do they see that their clothes are gone, replaced by towels to dry themselves off with. Unsure they look at each other but then the men are back, silently demanding the youths to hand over the towels, and when they don’t comply fast enough they’re simply ripped off their bodies and then they’re herded through another door. This new room is a small dining hall, two tables loaded with food they are almost forcefully shown to their place, the boys at one table the girls at the other, all ten as naked as the day they were born, color sitting high in their cheeks as they all try to both look their fill and not look at anything other than the plates in front of them. They eat in total silence watched carefully by the men who brought them here and when they’re done they’re lead through yet another door that leads to a hallway with several doors, each motioned to walk through a different one that closes behind them, and then the sound of a key turning and they’re trapped. He can hear them when they come for his friends. One by one they are fetched from their tiny cells and led somewhere. A few of them cried, and he wonders what has happened before they were led back into the hall way. He knows he’s the last one left, has counted the number of different foot falls to know that nine has been led away and now all he can do is wait. There’s no time in his cell, the room is dark without windows or artificial light and he hasn’t been given neither food nor water. He has slept a few times, there’s a narrow bed, but he thinks that might be more due to boredom than actual fatigue, and the longer he has to wait the more nervous he gets. And then it’s his turn. This is not one of the men who brought them here from the village, this man is tall and thin, pale skin tight against his bones making him look like a walking corpse. He has a jug in one hand and with the other he beckons the boy in the cell to come with him. Entering the light brings tears to the boy’s eyes but he gets no time to adjust as his arm is gripped and he’s dragged to yet another room where he’s forced down on his hands and knees and then heavy chains snap and he can’t move. The pale man grips his hair and forces his head up making tears well in his eyes again, blurring his vision as the shadows in front of him starts to move. Whatever it is it’s as tall as the boy would be if he was standing though the thing is clearly walking on all four and is covered in dark fur. It has a muzzle filled with white, sharp fangs, its eyes are red and disturbingly intelligent, and as it keeps moving closer towards him the boy tries to recoil in terror, his attempt stopped by the chains. The beast, because sure that is what the thing is, circles him its breath raising goosebumps on his skin as it goes, its cold nose poking at him as it takes in lungfuls of his scent, and then he yelps in surprise and discomfort as that same cold nose buries itself in the cleft of his ass, the beast huffing and puffing snot and saliva against his skin, against the most private part of his body, a sensation so foreign he can’t be sure if he wants to escape it or have more of it. In the end it doesn’t matter as the beast retracts itself and melts back into the shadows, making him hope he has failed some kind of test and will now be allowed to go home. Instead his mouth is forced open and a rag is wedged in between his lips before a cloth is covering the lower half of his face and is tied behind is head. Hands are against his skin pulling his cheeks apart exposing him to whoever is behind him and then unbearable pain as something long and gnarled is forced inside him, in and out setting his nerves on fire, his screams caught in the cloth on his face, until his body adjusts to the intrusion letting him identify it as fingers even as something slippery pours down on his skin, is brought inside him and then the stretch begins. It’s slow and painful, he’s fourteen and has never done something like this before, and yet he can tell when two becomes three, becomes four, becomes six, becomes something longer and thicker and skin against skin, and by now he thinks he may split in half, that there is room for no more, but the fingers are back, tugging at his rim trying to make the entrance to his body wider and more welcoming, and it’s all too much for him to handle, his mind incapable of processing what’s happing so he shuts down, passes out. He comes to when the last bit of skin leaves his body, something artificial against his hole pouring slick directly inside him, hands untying the cloth and removing the rag from his mouth, and then the sounds of retreating footsteps, a door closing and he’s alone with the beast lurking in the shadows. He hurts where the hands forced him open, hurts even worse where they made their way inside him, so preoccupied with it that he never notices the moving shadows, never feels the steady gaze of a predator hunting until a heavy weight settles across his back, sharp teeth clamps down on his neck and something even more terrifying knocking for entrance. When the shaft is forced inside him thanks to gravity and the beast’s weight he screams, as its hips pistons against him he screams, paralyzed in agony his entire being focused on that one point of his body where he’s connected to the thing behind him. Its rancid breath against his face, the blood gathering beneath its teeth and claws become secondary to the feel of it ramming itself inside him with all its might, even with all that was done to him before, the beast is still a tight fit that becomes even tighter as the thing grows impossibly bigger, catching against his rim when it withdraws and goes back in, the boy’s voice lost and all that’s coming from him are small, pained whimpers, but this time there’s no unconsciousness to hide in, and he can feel every single move of the thing behind him, in him. Its ragged breath when with one last agonizing shove it buries itself inside him, locked tight as it starts filling him with come, and when he looks down he can see the outline of its cock against this skin, can see the way his stomach starts to swell the longer the beast stays tied to him. He still can’t tell how much time passes. Sometimes the beast fucks him and sometimes it don’t. When they’re tied together the room is empty and when they’re not the skeletal man feeds and waters him, lets him walk around - something that becomes gradually less painful as his body adjust to the abuse the beast puts it through - and on one memorable occasion he even gets to sleep for a short while on a bed. But every little break ends with him back on the floor on his hands and knees wearing chains to hold him in place for the beast. It’s not unusual to regain consciousness to the unpleasant smell of the beast’s breath and yet this time it feels different somehow. Its tongue is licking at the part of his face it can reach, gentle almost like a caress and then when its knot swells and the first gush of come floods his insides the beast opens its jaws and bites down on the tendon where neck meets shoulder. It’s been a while since last but he screams in pain even as he can feel the beast pressing closer, forcing both its cock and its seed deeper insider him, its tongue coming out to tentatively licking the wound tasting his blood, nuzzling against him and then the men in black are there, kneeling in front of the boy and the beast as the pale man is unlocking him before kneeling with the others. They remain there while boy and beast are tied together watching them intently and for the first time since the meal he shared with his friends he’s embarrassed by his nudity, wishing they would give him the curtesy of averting their eyes but they simply stare, their bodies completely still, and not before the beast withdraws from him and slinks back to its shadows do they move again. He’s carried bridal style to a new bathroom where he’s gently lowered into a tub filled with warm water. It soothes all his aches, leaving him boneless and pliable as the man washes him before lifting him up and out drying him off and then carrying him to yet another room. He’s placed on a bed large enough for at least five others, the sheets cool beneath his skin and the duvet covering him soft against his back. He’s asleep before he can grasp the thought that he’s free. It marks a new period in his life, he can’t leave the room - the doors locked and there are no windows - but he gets food and water at regular intervals and there are lamps to give him light, a fire he can’t see to keep him warm and books to keep him entertained, he even gets to take a bath from time to time in the adjourning room. His body heals, almost going back to how it was before, and then he gets sick. He’s burning with fever, tossing and turning in the bed and can’t tell reality from dream. He knows he’s never alone but sometimes there’s a voice talking to him, it’s been so long since he’s heard voices, even his own hasn’t been heard since the last time he screamed beneath the beast’s brutal taking, and what’s even more disturbing is the gentleness he can hear in this voice that seems to float around him, detached from a physical body. He thinks there may be hands on him, touches meant to be soothing but aren’t, he might be crying making desperate pleas to go home and tell his parents goodbye, but there are no answers to those, only the gentle voice, telling him how special he is, how precious, and still he burns and burns and burns, until there’s nothing left and he falls into a fitful sleep, only to repeat the cycle for what seems like an eternity. The boy wakes up warm but not burning, a heavy weight pinning him to the bed and an all compassing feeling of “safe” and “home” making him close his eyes and go back to sleep. Then there’s sun against his skin and when he’s bathed he is led outside for the first time since he was taken from the village. It shouldn’t surprise him to see one of the other boys from the village, but it does and he can’t help but wonder if the other has been through the same things he has, but he doesn’t dare ask, simply stands next to him as he’s instructed. “It is time for your final test,” the pale man’s voice is high and frail, shivering with old age though still strong with a natural authority that has both boys glued to his lips, not wanting to miss a single word he utters. “You will run. If you reach the village your obligations have been fulfilled, if not you will come back here. Go.” And they’re off, so fast there might be magic involved, they run across the grass in between the trees, shoving each other in the desperate rush to get away, get home, it’s so close they can both taste it, the nightmare being over all they have to do is run and forget. They know it’s too easy but their feet are light with hope, they’re almost flying, avoiding low hanging branches and undergrowth, laughing joyously when they stop to take a deep breath in a sun filled clearing, their haste slower when they start back again, no more shoving as they run next to each other, only to have their easy camaraderie shattered by movement in their peripheral vision, a shadow darker than the others getting closer, a glimpse of white and the overwhelming sound of their desperate gasps for breath as they draw on their last reserves, legs pumping like drumsticks the edge of the forest so close, the sight of smoke from a thousand chimneys, the imperceptible sound of a predator launching itself against its prey. A boy breaks through the tree line, his memory of the last few days becoming fuzzy the closer he gets to the houses, disappears completely as he sees the first people, coming to welcome him back. He can’t remember what happened to him or the boy who didn’t make it home, and if he sometimes wakes in the darkest of the night with a phantom ache in his ass and a scream dying on his lips he has forgotten when morning comes. In the middle of nothing a large city flourishes, its peaceful and people are happy. On the edge of the city, at the oldest part stands a stone wall, taller than five men standing on top of each other, the legends tell of the castle that stood there for centuries, providing for its people, the men in black who brought their young ones behind the castle gate and how some were never seen again, until one young man broke through a tree line long since gone, thereby raising an unknown curse, and saving future generations from unspoken horrors behind the castle walls. The legends never tell of the boy who got caught, the boy who mated a beast and saved a village from future heartbreak. 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