The Inn

[trio]

Teaser: The innkeeper, a middle-aged man with a tired but resilient face, hastened to serve them. His hands trembled as he poured the frothy ale, hoping to placate their hunger and hasten their departure. Yet, as he glanced at the door, his heart sank as two young women, his grown daughters, entered with arms laden with goods from the market. Their smiles faded the moment they caught sight of the soldiers.
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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
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Title: The Inn
Author: Trio

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The Inn

In the heart of England's Middle Ages, a quaint inn stood tall amidst the cobbled streets, its wooden beams creaking under the weight of centuries. A roaring fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the patrons within. The scent of slow-cooking meat wafted through the air, a comforting aroma that promised a hearty meal to those who sought refuge from the cold.

"Ale! And don't be stingy with it," the burly captain of the sheriff's elite guards bellowed, his voice cutting through the ambient chatter. His six men followed, their heavy boots echoing ominously in the space, causing the other patrons to shift in their seats. The inn's regulars knew the type - rough, unbridled men with the power to take what they wanted. They quickly gathered their things and retreated, leaving the seven soldiers to claim the large table near the fire. The captain, his eyes gleaming with a mix of entitlement and malice, slapped a pouch of coins on the counter, silencing any protests from the inn's keeper.

The innkeeper, a middle-aged man with a tired but resilient face, hastened to serve them. His hands trembled as he poured the frothy ale, hoping to placate their hunger and hasten their departure. Yet, as he glanced at the door, his heart sank as two young women, his grown daughters, entered with arms laden with goods from the market. Their smiles faded the moment they caught sight of the soldiers.

"Father," the eldest whispered, her voice carrying the weight of dread. The younger one's eyes grew wide with fear, and she clutched her sister's arm tightly. The captain took notice, his grin widening as he eyed them like a predator spotting prey. He licked his lips, and his men snickered, setting their mugs aside.

The innkeeper stepped in front of the women, his body trembling with rage and fear. "Take what you will, but leave my daughters be," he pleaded, his voice a mix of desperation and resolve. The captain chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a casual air. He gestured to his men, who stood and approached the terrified sisters, ripping the goods from their arms and tossing them aside.

Without a word, the soldiers dragged the screaming women to the table, pushing them to sit onto the rough wood of the bench. The eldest tried to fight, her nails digging into the hands that held her down, but she was no match for the iron grip of the soldiers. The captain grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back, exposing her neck to his leering gaze. The younger sister wept silently, buried in the strong arms of one of the soldiers, feeling his bulge at her hip. Her eyes darting around the room for any hint of salvation. But she only saw people hiding in the shadows, unwilling to interfere.

The rape began as the men feasted, their laughter and grunts a grim counterpoint to the sobs and whimpers of the defenceless sisters. The innkeeper watched, paralysed by horror, as his daughters were brutally violated. The warmth of the fire felt like a mockery, the comforting scent of food now a nauseating reminder of the depravity unfolding before him.

The eldest sister fought with all her might, but her efforts only brought more pain. The soldiers took turns, one after the other, each more violent than the last, as if eager to prove their dominance. Her dress was torn to shreds, leaving her bare and exposed. The younger one, trembling and tear-stained, could only close her eyes and pray for it to end, feeling the weight of a world that had suddenly gone mad with cruelty. Her body bobbing up and down with the rhythm of the soldier's thrusts.

The innkeeper, unable to bear the sight, stumbled backward, knocking over a chair in his haste to grab a cleaver . But a swift kick from one of the soldiers sent him sprawling to the floor, a knife plunging into his belly with a sickening sound. He gasped, clutching the wound as his life's essence seeped out between his fingers.

The women's cries grew more desperate as the soldiers grew more brutal, their appetites insatiable. The room was a chaotic portrayal of violence and degradation, a stark contrast to the cozy scene that had existed only a few hours before. The other patrons hiding in the shadows, hoping not to draw the soldiers' attention, but the innkeeper's agony was a silent scream that resonated in their hearts.

Soldiers' grunts echoed through the silent inn. The sisters lay on the table, face to face, their eyes locked in a silent scream. Each thrust brought a new wave of pain, a shared agony that bound them together in a hellish embrace. Their bodies, once a sanctuary of purity, were now battlefields of brutality.

The captain, turned his attention to the youngest. His eyes gleamed with a sadistic delight as he turned her face down and claimed her virgin ass. Her screams echoed through the forrest. The other sister watched in horror, while his men followed his lead.

The father's eyes, sad, remained on his daughters. Each thrust seemed to rip his soul further apart. His feeble attempts at resistance had only led to this. The ones who could had already left the inn, trying to find help. Those who remained huddled in the shadows, their eyes averted from the grisly scene unfolding by the fire. Time stretched like taffy in the heat of their torment.

Finally, the door slammed shut, the echo of the soldiers laughter fading into the night. The two women lay on the cold, sticky floor, cum and blood mingling with the spilled ale and vomit. Their once beautiful bodies, now a canvas of pain and degradation. Barely conscious, whimpered, their breaths shallow and quick, their spirits shattered like the shards of pottery that littered the ground around them.

Their father, a suffering heap in a pool of his own blood, staring at the ceiling. His eyes, once filled with love and pride, now held only a deep, endless pain. His hand clutched the knife still lodged in his belly, a futile attempt to stem the flow. His life draining away, drop by drop, a crimson river that mirrored the tears that stained his cheeks.

The few patrons left in the inn, slowly emerged from the shadows. They had cowed before the soldiers, but now they moved in to help. "We must get them out," a gruff voice yelled. "The bastards have set the place ablaze."

The old inn, once a beacon of safety, was now on fire. Flames licked the wooden beams, burning away the layers of history. Nobody could do anything, nobody could stop it, and after an hour, everything was gone.

[joey]

Ouch! That's a rough one indeed. Have to wonder how many countless times over the ages a similar scenario has been acted out. The powerless victimized by those who can violate them. A little peek at a part of the human animal that can really ruin your day. Written nicely, but so very depressing. Not much eroticism in this kind of a scene.

[trio]

Yeah I know, as long as you keep in the roam of fantasy, it is fun. Unfortunately it has been a reality across the ages, and let's be honest, it happens now too. I know we all here condemn that. You make me doubt myself a bit, maybe I shouldn't have written this.

Ouch! That's a rough one indeed. Have to wonder how many countless times over the ages a similar scenario has been acted out. The powerless victimized by those who can violate them. A little peek at a part of the human animal that can really ruin your day. Written nicely, but so very depressing. Not much eroticism in this kind of a scene.

[Blue]

A story that was probably quite common in the past.
It's written straightforwardly, without going into too much detail about the rapes. Almost like a factual report in a newspaper or a newscast. This way, the reader learns briefly and concisely what happened. And if you like, you can continue to imagine the story in your head and let your imagination run wild.

[RapeU]

Flash stories are in a sense limiting yourself as a writer for the purpose of teasing the reader and making the reader want more. In some flash stories, the lack of eroticism is a feature not a bug. I think it works well here to let the reader imagine the finer details.

Maybe I shouldn't have written this.

I haven't written a flash story yet and probably won't because it would likely be really hard to tell a quick snippet of a story that quickly. You're always going to have something missing from a flash story - that's the point of them.

[KleineHexe]

Well written story with not too explicit description!

[KleineHexe]

A story that was probably quite common in the past.
It's written straightforwardly, without going into too much detail about the rapes. ... And if you like, you can continue to imagine the story in your head and let your imagination run wild.

Genau darum geht es.