A Visit from the Nine Talons [MM/FFFF] [Fantasy] [Home Invasion]

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Seventh Crow
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A Visit from the Nine Talons [MM/FFFF] [Fantasy] [Home Invasion]

Post by Seventh Crow »

(( Hey folks! Back with another fantasy piece. I actually posted this a while ago, but took it down so I could polish it a bit more and now I think it's ready. There's not much plot here, I wanted to focus on descriptions and imagery instead. As always, open to critique and comment. Thanks! ))

Brylen found herself seated in a chair, facing her vanity. Her arms were pulled behind her back and tied at the wrist with strong rope, forcing her shoulders back and modest chest out. More rope was wrapped above and below her breasts, accentuating them even further. Her knees and ankles were similarly bound, and a rope ran from her feet up to her hands to keep her from squirming.

Her tongue pressed against a sponge that filled her mouth. A handkerchief had been folded over her lips and knotted behind her head to keep it in. The elven beauty tossed her head wearily in an attempt to loosen her gag, throwing her long raven locks about in the process.

Behind her, the door was kicked open. She turned her head to see two men enter the bedroom, both clad in dark leathers and carrying an array of small blades. They were tall for humans, athletic, and unshaven. Brylen recognized the tattoo of the Nine Talons Mercenary Company on arm of one, and vaguely recalled seeing the same tattoo before she had succumbed to the chloroform.

The tattooed man was holding Dalila’s bare feet and the other carrying her against his chest. A gloved hand was clamped firmly over the young druidess’ mouth, reducing her threats and insults to muffled moans. She was dressed in a sleeveless shirt that cut off just above her waist, showing off a bit of her apricot-skinned midriff, and simple leggings that came to the middle of her calf.

They carried Brylen’s daughter to a chair waiting behind her, facing the bed, and dumped her into it. Wasting no time, one of the intruders yanked Dalila's arms behind the back of the chair and wrapped a coil of rope around and between them at the wrist. She pulled away, only to be grabbed at the shoulder and pulled back in to the chair. In front of her, the tattooed man hunched down, pressed her ankles together, and started tying her feet in a similar fashion.

“Do you know who we are?!” Dalila snarled. “I’m the Forest Keeper! My mom’s the Hero of Aladria! When we get out of this you’re gonna be srrmph!”

A sash from the wardrobe was pulled between her teeth, biting into the corners of her mouth. The ends were gathered behind her head, crossed, and pulled tight against her short, ebon curls.

“Ahn...gahnn...”

The intruders chuckled as they knotted off her gag. “Mouthy little brat.”

They knotted the ropes around her ankles and ran another rope from her bound, bare feet to her wrists. Dalila felt her knees bend, leaving only her toes barely grazing the wooden floor. She tried to kick, or even to straighten her legs, but found that doing so pulled against her wrists. She bit into her gag and tried again, much to the amusement of the mercenaries behind her. Anger and embarassment burned at the back of her neck, and she stopped, refusing to put on a show for her captors.

The men tied rope above and below the young druidess' chest to finish her, then left the room, closing the door behind them. Dalila immediately renewed her struggles, twisting and kicking as much as her bonds allowed and grumbling into her gag all the while. She succeeded only in scooting her chair a few inches away from her mother’s.

Brylen took a more reserved approach. She tested the rope around her slender wrists, fingers probing for a knot. She found it, and began picking away with her nails. Meanwhile, she used her tongue to press the sponge in her mouth forward, trying to slip it past the handkerchief. The process was difficult, as the sponge filled most of her mouth, leaving little room to work and none to call for help.

The intruders returned. The first stepped through the door backward, shortsword brandished. The second was right behind him, marching Ashlen into the room. They had caught the swordmaiden out of armor, leaving her in only a white tank and loose cotton leggings. Her long, untamed hair of blazing red was out of its usual braiding and spilled about her pale shoulders as they forced her forward.

The arm of the tattooed mercenary was pressed tightly around her middle, pinning her arm between her back and his chest, and he covered her mouth with his free hand. The swordmaiden fumed, but offered no resistance for now. Her pale green eyes met Brylen's as the men closed the door once again.

They paused. “No more chairs.”

“Still plenty of rope,” the other replied.

They walked Ashlen toward the others. Dalila stopped her squirming and shouted muffled threats at her captors.

With a smirk, one reached out and patted her head. “Settle down, girl.”

Dalila recoiled, scowling in disgust.

The mercenary continued past her and took another coil of rope from his pack. While his accomplice held Ashlen, he knelt down and tied her ankles.

At that, she squirmed, testing the strength of the man holding her. He fumbled for a moment, but retained and redoubled his grip.

“No need for that,” he warned. “Unless you want ‘milady’ to pay the price.”

After quick glance at Brylen, Ashlen fell still and silent once again. Brylen, struggling to subdue the growing dread in her chest, could only watch as they readied more rope for her closest friend.

The pair took their time tying the swordmaiden down. Once her ankles were bound, they moved on to her knees, wrapping the rope around and between her legs several times to keep her immobile. Then, carefully, they released her mouth, turned her, and started tying her wrists. She felt her chest pressed against one of the men, and winced as the other finished the knot.

“Couldn’t take me in a fair fight,” she growled. “Your cowardice is proof.”

“Probably not,” the intruder admitted, mere inches from her face. “But we had no reason to try.”

He gave her the slightest push backward, and she fell to the ground with a grunt.

“Mmmphm!” Dalila shouted into the sash between her teeth. Behind her, Brylen glared at their captors with a seething fury.

The men paid the helpless mother and daughter no mind. They knelt down and bent Ashlen’s legs at the knee, then ran another rope from her ankles to her bound wrists. After finishing a few more passes and knots, the hogtie was complete, and Ashlen was left bound on her belly beside Dalila and Brylen.

One of the thugs returned to the wardrobe to search for a gag.

“She’s not a caster,” the other said.

“Don’t care. Tired of her mouth already.”

He took out an elegant robe, removed the sash, and tossed the garment aside. Then he stepped over Ashlen, planted a foot on either side of her, and settled onto his knees, straddling the bound knight between his thighs. Slowly, he unfurled the sash and looped it over her head. Finally, he pulled, tugging it past her lips and between her teeth.

“Cahn...mph...”

The man crossed and looped the ends of the sash, pulled it tight, and knotted it behind the knight’s long red hair. Beneath him, Ashlen bucked, both to test her restraints and to hopefully topple him from her back.

Instead, he merely jolted and got to his feet. “That’s the last of them. Keep’s clear.”

The other strode over to stand before Brylen.

The helpless ranger narrowed her eyes. “Wrhph?”

“Nobody needs to get hurt today, hero,” he explained, leaning down to meet her at eye level. “This isn’t a kidnapping or a robbery. We just need to make sure you, your knight, and your girl don’t interfere with a certain meeting.”

Brylen merely glared over her gag.

“Is there anyone else here? Husband? Sister?”

She shook her head.

The man nodded. “Good. We’re gonna take one more look around, and if I find out you’re lying, then people will indeed need to get hurt. Starting with the brat.”

Dalila glanced at him over her shoulder. “Mmphr TRRMN nrmph!”

The man stood and headed for the door, running his fingers through Dalila’s hair again as he did. “Watch them. I’ll be back.”

The door closed behind him with a click. Brylen turned her head to get a look at the ropes around her wrists. What little she could see was well-tied, but she’d come across better knots in her years. She straightened in her chair and continued picking at it, keeping her eyes on the guard.

The remaining captor began to pace in boredom. He stepped over the hogtied Ashlen and leaned against the wall by the window.

“Nice place you have,” he said as if complimenting a casual acquaintance. He looked out at the open courtyard, the sturdy stone walls of the keep, and the raised portcullis of the main gate. “Quiet and out of the way. Nobody to happen by and find you.”

Brylen ignored his taunts and focused on freeing her hands. She managed to work a finger into the knot and pull a bit to loosen it. In a minute or so, she’d be loose. Loose enough to deal with the ropes around her chest and feet, and the gag over her mouth. Loose enough to make short work of her captors.

“Shit!”

The man at the window suddenly turned his attention to Brylen. She immediately stopped tugging at the ropes.

“Who’s that?!” he demanded, shoving a finger toward the window. From where she sat, bound to a chair, Brylen could see nothing but blue sky and empty ramparts.

Then her heart sank. She had entirely forgotten. Sara. Her student. Coming by for her weekly archery lesson.

“Lrrmh rrm nrnphn!” Brylen shouted frantically, her words reduced to mumbles by the sponge in her mouth. She lunged forward, straining against her bonds in a desperate effort, but was held firm. Even the loosened knot between her wrists refused to slip. Still, she squirmed and struggled furiously, and screamed helplessly into her gag.

Dalila followed her mother’s lead, kicking her bare feet as much as she could despite the rope connecting them to her bound hands. She jolted forward repeatedly, scooting her chair along the floor, and tosses her head back and forth in a vain attempt to shake her gag loose.

The man ran to the door and shouted into the hall. “Someone’s coming!”

The other thug burst into the room and ran to the window. “Just one. Doesn’t look like she’ll be much trouble.”

“Mmph hrrmh rrlrn!” Brylen protested.

“Shut it,” the guard snapped.

“Let ‘em shout,” said the other. “The noise’ll draw her up here. We’ll deal with her then.”

He walked to the doorway. “There’s a closet in the hall. Once she passes, I’ll take her. Get the rope ready.”

With that, he slipped out, leaving the door cracked.

The remaining thug took up a position behind the door, rope in hand. The sound of another door swinging open flittered from the hall.

“Hello?” Sara called. “Miss Evenwood? The gate was open.”

Brylen resisted the urge to call out, knowing her muffled words would only draw the girl into the trap. But Sara knew the keep well enough, and would surely come looking for her in the master bedroom all the same.

Her fears were confirmed when she heard footsteps on the stairs. “Miss Evenwood?”

She was in the hall now, and getting closer.

“STMMPH!” Dalila screamed in a futile attempt to warn her friend.

She was too late. The door creaked open.

A girl of sixteen, Sara had inherited the fair skin of her human mother and long black hair of her elven father. Her petite frame lent itself well to speed and dexterity, a talent she put to use with the bow across her back. As she stepped into the room, her blue eyes found Brylen, her mentor, bound and gagged, and widened in shock. Her lips parted in the sharp inhalation that would grow into a scream.

A thick arm wrapped around her chest, and a hand cupped over her mouth. She screamed, the sound all but silenced by the stranger’s palm, and stumbled backward into his chest. The second intruder stepped around the door and seized her wrist with his free hand.

Sara jerked away from her assailant and pulled her arm free of his grasp. He stepped forward to grab her again, and a surge of adrenaline pulsed through the young half-elf's body. She closed her fist and swung, landing a solid blow on the man's jaw. But raw strength was not her strong suit, and the man easily rubbed off the pain.

She pulled her arm back to punch again. Mid-swing, his hand closed around her forearm, stopping her dead. Again she tried to pull away, but this time his grip held.

Still holding the rope, he gathered her other arm and pressed her wrists together in front of her. The man looped the rope around them several times and pulled, drawing it taut across her skin. Then he ran it between her arms, wrapped it around the previous coil, and pulled again. The rope cinched. The man knotted it, and Sara's hands were tied.

“That should make you a bit more manageable,” he said with a grin.

Sara looked at Brylen, eyes still wide with fear. Brylen could only stare back, her fiery demeanor momentarily broken and brow creased with worry.

“Lrr hrph grr!” she demanded, her garbled words now a plea rather than a command.

“In a bit,” the mercenary holding Sara replied. He pushed her forward and walked her to the foot of the bed. Sara went quietly, the adrenaline gone and replaced with terror.

Brylen watched as the men sat Sara down, facing the bed. They shoved her forward, forcing her ankles around the leg of the frame, and tied her feet much how they had her hands. Then, still keeping her mouth covered, they pressed her forward again, and ran the last of their rope from her bound wrists to the leg of the bed. When they finished, she sat bound hand and foot to the bedframe, unable to stand or scoot away.

The thug pointed. “The bedsheet. Cut some off. And bring a handkerchief.” His companion complied.

Sara gave a perfunctory twist against his arms as the man peeled his hand away from her lips and wadded up the cloth. She clenched her teeth and turned her head away from him, knowing what would come next. The handkerchief pressed against her lips and, despite her best efforts, slowly slipped past them. The other man stepped forward and cupped her cheeks in his hand, squeezing to force her mouth open.

Sara felt the fine silk run over her tongue, unfold, and expand to pack her mouth. The stranger's hand was over her mouth again to keep her from spitting it out, only to be replaced a second later with the haphazardly-cut bedsheet. Her captors pressed it over her mouth and wrapped it around her head several times before finally knotting it off over her silky black hair.

“Nrrm...” she grunted, testing the limits of her new gag. The sound was barely audible, smothered by layers of fabric before leaving her mouth. She tugged on her wrists and ankles too, and found them similarly secured.

At last, the two men sat. One draped his arm around Sara's waist, causing her to shudder with discomfort.

“Now then, ladies,” he said, each word dripping with smug satisfaction. “Let's enjoy a quiet evening.”
Caesar73
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Post by Caesar73 »

A fine Story! :)
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Seventh Crow
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Post by Seventh Crow »

Caesar73 wrote: 4 years ago A fine Story! :)
Danke!
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