A Basket of Goodies

[It isn't very hard to figure out where I got the idea for this particular story, though I took it in a very different direction from its source. Gentler spirits may want to avoid this rough-sex story, I fear!]

The path through the forest was well-worn if not well-traveled these days. With the robbers now frequenting these woods, until the local baron would send his men in to clear them out, a man could take his own life into his hands going to and from the villages of Arthurford and Featherhill along this route.

Along the route, Thomas walked, a young man with sunny-gold hair, a pleasant face, worn but clean peasant clothing, and on one arm, a basket filled with freshly baked sweet rolls and a bottle of wine. The trip from Arthurford to Featherhill was a good half-days' walk, and he was still an hour or so away from Featherhill, if the robbers were going to strike, this is about where they would....

A man sprang out from a bush nearby and, though, unarmed, confronted Thomas with a not-very-pleasant grin. "And who are you and why are you traveling in this wood all alone, little one?" he smiled. He was at least four handspans taller than Thomas, and his body was strong enough to break Thomas' smaller body in half if he chose. The hands were scarred and rough-looking, they had done much hard work at one time...and much evil work more recently, no doubt. The clothing he wore was dyed forest green in cruel mockery of the legends of the noble Robin Hood, but nothing else of him resembled the good Sir Robin of myth. The eyes were inset and hard-piercing as they gazed at Thomas, the cheeks held a sneer that boasted of cruelty and avarice in equal measure within, the bearing of the man's stance spoke not of mercy, but of domination through strength.

"My...my name is Thomas, if you please, sir, and I am taking a basket to my grandmother in Featherhill, as she is very ill." Thomas stammered out.

"A basket?" the man said. "And is that all you have with you?"

"Just the basket." Thomas said. "It is filled with two dozen sweet rolls made with honey, and there is a small bottle of wine. That's all I have, sir, I have no coin with me and nothing else of value."

"Freshly-baked sweet rolls." the man said and he inhaled, noisily, his nostrils making a fluttering sound from the snot inside them. Then he placed a finger to one nostril and blew out a wad of white goo from the other, then switched hands and nostrils, did it again, to no visible effect. "After living on rabbits and squirrels and an occasional deer such as we, some fresh baked rolls sound like a wonderful luncheon. Don't you agree, men?"

Voices answered him and Thomas started, turned around. He was indeed outnumbered and marveled how this dozen of men had walked up on him so silently. And they were armed.

He looked around, worried now. He could run...but not from so many and not without risking an arrow in his back for the try. He could only use the basket to barter for his life.

"Would...would your men like to have one of the rolls each?" He said, his voice trembling. "My grandmother wouldn't mind sharing with a fine lot of virtuous men such as you...."

The men laughed heartily at the compliment. "We'll forego the virtue and take the entire basket along with your grandmother's curses." the man in front of Thomas (their leader?) said. He took the basket from Thomas' unprotesting arm and reached in, hoisted up the narrow-necked bottle. "And some wine to wash them down with!" He showed it.

A cheer arose and then Thomas was shunted to the side (though not out of the knot of men entirely) as they raided the basket, each taking two or three of the rolls. Before long, they were a bundle of men gnawing the sweet rolls, and many of them seemed to be in a form of ecstasy about the flavor of them. There was a sizeable amount of honey in it, the rolls were actually yellow-colored instead of white. The wine bottle was passed around, though to Thomas' eye, the bottle didn't slake every thirst before running dry. He hadn't expected it would with these burly, mean-hearted men.

"May...may I go now, if you please, sirs?" Thomas said. "I have nothing else and my mother will want to know to make more sweet rolls for my grandmother...."

"Nothing else? Nothing else?" the leader crowed. "How can we be sure you have nothing else? It wouldn't be the first time a jeweler's son tried pretending to be a peasant, and with a fortune sewn into his lining. Now that we have feasted, we'll see what else you have on you."

Thomas did struggle against what followed, but his efforts were like a kitten fighting off a human who has chosen to pick it up, futile flailing that only robbed him of any vestige of dignity.

His clothing was cut from him with knives and the seams thus examined with more slashes. Even his shoes were peeled from his feet, and his woolen stockings though they clung to him from hips to ankles in a way that could not have hidden anything.

"Find anything?" the leader asked.

"Nothing, sir." one of the men said, holding up a piece of what had been Thomas' shirt. "The lad was only doing what he said, taking some bread and wine to his grandmother."

The leader looked back at Thomas, now nude and shivering some, his hands covering his nakedness in the small way they could.

"This one doesn't have anything we can use." another one complained. "Just a bite for our stomachs was all we got out of this one."

The leader looked at Thomas, and then he smiled as a cat smiles at a fieldmouse. "I think he's got one other hiding place we need to look into."

"I do?" Thomas was startled out of his silent compliance. "But where, sir, could I hide anything from you, I wear nothing but what I wore when I was birthed...."

"You might have stuck it up your arse, is where!" the leader growled. "Or swallowed it and planned to dig it out of the chamberpot in Featherhill. We'll have to check that out, won't we?"

And then Thomas broke and attempted to run. But the men were still all around him, all he did was run in between two of them, who caught him handily by each of his arms and they dragged, kicking and blubbering back to the leader. "Bring out the pig's bladder!" the leader ordered.

To Thomas' humiliation, the men held him down and gave him an enema on the spot. The bladder squirted water up into his bowels and he was then kept in place while his body ejected the liquid. They laughed as the young man was forced thus to evacuate his bowels and they examined his offal carefully, but were of course disappointed.

"Shall we cut him open now?" one of the men asked, pointing a sword-tip at Thomas' throat.

"No, no need for that." the leader said. "Our young friend here is who he said he was, just a dutiful grandson carrying a gift for his ailing grandmother."

"I said I didn't have anything else you could want." Thomas said, his face red with his embarrassment still.

"I wouldn't go as far as that." the leader said. "I can think of one other thing you have that we could use."

"What do you mean by that, Eldon?" one of the men said.

The leader was Eldon, then, Thomas noted. Eldon spoke, "When was the last time we took our pleasure with a lass from one of the villages hereabouts?"

"Been nigh on to a month or more." one of the men answered.

"Longer than that." another put in. "I'm ready to go in to Arthurford or Featherhill and find me a lay. Even if it is this one's aged grandmother!"

The men laughed.

"You don't need to do that." Eldon said, a rather silky tone entering his voice. "Not when you have the grandson right here, and already washed out and ready to use."

If Thomas could have then, he would have jumped straight up into the air and over the woods and made it to Featherhill in a single jump. As it was, he was still held and he could only squirm as he was turned around and bent over for the leader's pleasure.

He heard the rustling as the leader's pants were open. "Oh, sir, pray, do not do this!" he begged shamelessly. "I am not known to such as this, and I could not be pleasing to you in any way save in my pain. Would you not care for a willing lass, I know of some girls in my village that could...urk!" That was the touch of the leader's glans at his buttocks. Though now only kissing the crevice with its bulbous cheeks, the glans was now seeking out his entrance, and that was aided by rough hands pulling his buttocks apart! A moment of departure and then the glans made itself known again, this time by the touch of its lips upon his very threshold!

"Ah, ah, sir, pray, if you will but forebear this, I shall swear to all who ask that I gave to you freely of the rolls and the wine and....GUHGH!!" Now it was pressing into him. It felt large as an apple, nay, larger, as a gourd! Thomas gurgled and looked back at the man to confirm it was indeed a man's organ pushing into his body. It was. Thomas turned his head back around, lowered it, and grit his teeth tightly. He would not give them the pleasure of making him yell.

There was pain aplenty to cause a yell if he had chosen. The men around him were hooting, saying many, many vulgar things, while their leader broke the gates of Thomas' lower body and entered into the courtyard of his intestines.

"Ah, yes, this one is tighter than the snatch of that novice nun we had last year, remember her, boys?" the leader chuckled. The men laughed, so many hard, cruel men. Thomas could only ground his teeth the harder.

"Give the lad a hearty pounding, sir." one of the men called. "Let him remember you well and often the rest of his life."

The leader had his dong now deeply imbedded in Thomas, and now to Thomas' horror, he began to move back and forth, and that awakened the pain which had just begun to subside, renewed it to surging fury. As the hips of the rough bandit leader thrust his manhood in and out of Thomas' ass, Thomas could no longer keep his silence, he yelped and groaned and moaned as the hard dong savaged his insides and rushed his brain with many sorties of pain.

After a time, a horrid time that felt like eternity but was in fact only a minute or two, Thomas found the pain leaving him at last. He had known this of his body, that once it was broken, the pain would leave, others had spoken to him of this somewhat. But to have it happen to him, now and here, as he was, only left him feeling filthy and enslaved.

But his murmurs as he was rocked by the leader's ramming of his body did not pass unnoticed. "I think the lad is beginning to enjoy it, sir." one of the men said. "I think he's going to want to join our band before you're done."

"How can you tell?" Another wanted to know.

"Listen to his soft sighs of passion as the arrow of our leader plunges in and out of him. Methinks the sound is that of a cow when the bull mounts her, I do!"

That earned them laughs, and then the leader, Eldon, said, "I cannot tell by the voice, but I can tell by the face. Let's turn this one like a pig on a spit and look at him while I finish myself. Then we'll know."

The men did as Eldon ordered, they turned poor Thomas around on his prod like it was a rod impaling him over the fire, and Thomas looked into Eldon's hard, sneering face. "Is this to your liking then?" he asked. Then to test it, he clasped Thomas' legs and began to fuck into Thomas harder.

And yet the man changed more than just the angle of his attack. He was now trying to wring from Thomas some sign of pleasure. With the pain no longer acting as a guard to his body, Thomas found to his horror that it could betray him thus. With the thrusts becoming kindly after a manner, his body chose to join in the evil revelry! Thomas groaned in dismay as his cock rose up and proclaimed its allegiance in an obscene obeisance to the bandit chief now thrusting into his bowels!

He is a dog in heat, after all!" Eldon pronounced, and the men roared with their delight. And now they no longer chose to only observe this, Thomas found men about him ungirding their loins and presenting Thomas with an array of dirty, smelly, smear-tipped prongs that were all aiming at his body, seeking entrance where they may!

One man was quicker than the others, and Thomas' mouth was suddenly pressed shut with a hard rod nudging at it. The man had a simple solution to that, he pinched Thomas' nostrils shut and waited until Thomas could not do anything but open his mouth to breathe, and then the prong was sliding over his gullet and into his throat! Other slimy-coated dongs were being pushed into his hands, his fingers being melded around them.

With a groan and a snarl about the prick in his mouth, Thomas began to suck hard on the bandit dong, and his hands began to pump those two in his fingers.

"Ah, now the lad shows herself a true man-whore!" Eldon laughed. "Enjoy this young meat, men, we'll drain our pipes and revel in him until darkness and beyond!"

Thomas worked the cocks in his control, damn you, he thought, get off, let this be over, work your bodies, give in to your lusts, let your hearts pound your blood through your veins the faster, let your breaths speed up, let your voices chime out like so many goats in rut, let this be done!

Eldon was open-mouthed and his breath was a loud panting sound emanating from there, he was close, then. Thomas clenched his buttocks to work at the bandit cock, and Eldon closed his eyes, clenched his teeth in a wide-mouthed snarl, gave out a groan that yodeled its way into the world, and with that yelp, Eldon's dick burst itself inside of Thomas' butt, a hard, hot, stinging spray of male seed jetted into Thomas' ass like so many arrows from a marksman's bow! Eldon was groaning lustily now, ah-hah, ah, hah, ah, ah-hah, ah, hah, hah, ahh, ahh! Thomas found his mouth trying to form a smile, this chieftain was now drained and his body was feeding on itself hungrily to restore itself.

The sound of their chieftain coming had a salubrious effect on the men's salacious desires, the man who was fucking Thomas' mouth now began to groan, not as a master, but in a sort of weak, helpless way. "Oh, God, oh, oh, God, oh, I've, gotta, come, I've, gotta, come, oh, God, oh, oh, UH-HUH, NNNNGGGGHHH!" And Thomas' mouth was filled with the vile reeking spunk from the man's organ. More jets of come arced from the men Thomas was pumping, and from the men who were pumping themselves or each other all around him, Thomas found himself the center of a fusillade of sperm-archers all letting fly at him, as though he were Saint Sebastian at the stake, Thomas was awash in jism that pelted him all over his body, then ran down and over to make him feel all awash in the hot salty sperm.

Thomas found himself being lowered to the ground, himself all covered in white splotches of men's jizz, and he rose up to regard the men carefully. Was it over?

Eldon was yawning mightily, and lowered himself to rest beneath a tree. "I needs must rest myself a space." he said. "Enjoy our prisoner, men, while I nap a time."

"I could sleep a spell myself." another one agreed.

"As could I."

"Should we tie him up?" another one asked.

"Eldon? Should we tie up the prisoner?" one of them said to their leader. "I think we're all ready to nap a while ourselves. That was a workout we just all gave ourselves there."

"If you're all done with him," Eldon stopped and yawned mightily. "Then let the lad go back to his grandmother. Just let me sleep."

Thomas skittered carefully out of the group of men, who were all readying themselves to lie down. One of them could yet decide to bind him or still be ready to give Thomas more grief.

But he made it into the bushes and away from them safely. His clothes were in ruins, but he would simply approach his home from the safety of the concealing woods as much as he could.

Behind him, the men who were the bandits plaguing these two little villages fell into sleep, without even posting a guard to watch as they did so.

When Thomas got back to his home in Arthurford, his grandmother was there, tending a pot. "How did it go?" she asked him.

"As you expected." Thomas said. "They ate the sweet rolls and drank the wine very fast. Then they cut off my clothes to search them for jewels, but found none, of course. After that, they had some fun with me. When I left them, they were all soundly asleep."

"And a long, long slumber it will be." the grandmother said. "I put enough ground devil's-rose within each sweet roll to send a horse down much less a robber. You didn't taste any of them yourself, I hope?"

"No, grandmother." Thomas said. "I knew better than to eat of them myself."

"Good boy." his grandmother said. "Now go clean yourself off, get some clothes on, and then get to work on weeding the garden. I have to go out this afternoon and gather some more devil's roses. Not like the baron ever sends his fighting men to clean out the bandits, so I must dry another batch of devil's roses to make my poison-powder. We'll want to have it ready in time for the next basket of goodies I need to fix."

"Yes, Grandmother." Thomas said and dutifully went off to do his grandmother's bidding. After all, he never wanted to get his grandmother mad at him.

THE END
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