from The Dark History of Castle Montenegro...

[gagged_Louise]

Louise was panting and making low, determined cries of protest as her hands were hauled up high above her. The handcuffs strained on her wrists, and as she was forced to stretch her strong, young body she shook involuntarily. The memories were horrific: the Count's horse which she'd heard in the distance, then the dreadful sight of that dog, viciously nabbing after her, running at her. She had run down toward the river, but another dog had turned up and the whole scene made her feel ambushed. So she'd zig-zagged into the riverside wood and narrowly escaped bumping into a tree, and almost out of her wits she had run on and got stuck in a brambleberry bush, its thorns piercing the skin of her arms, the palms of her hands, even her skirt. The roar of the barking dogs moving up on her from behind...oh God! - she had broken into muted tears and fought to break free from the bush - and then the Count's voice had rapped at the dogs and he'd come up to her, putting a heavy hand on her shoulder and saying "You'll come with me"

For a moment she had thought he'd help her, although she recognized who he was, thought that it might be an insane error of judgment, but on the return to his horse he had turned her around, forcing her to press her bosom into the saddle and pulling her hands over to the other side, and - manacling her?! Then he told her to kneel for him. Without thinking, she had obeyed; after all, this was the Count of the land. He rudely slapped her in the face and said "I'm taking you along, girl".

Dragged along and forced to run after his hound, she had returned to his camp further off in the wood, and it was there that she had spotted Violet, chained like herself, shackled to a sturdy bough in front of her.

She had called out, waved at her friend, the blacksmith's girl, one of her closest buddies since the time when Louise's parents had arrived in Tivat, moving there from the village up north where they used to live, to escape the aftermath of the border war and build a new peaceful life. The water mill her father had acquired right by a channeled arm of the river, just outside the city wall, had been a steady business, crops had been good, and Louise had made friends both in town and in the villages outside the wall. Aided by a merchant family in the city whom they had got to know, she had also learnt to read some Latin and vernacular, and the rudiments of writing.

Violet was a jokester and a hothead, wild sometimes but very nice to be with - it was as if she had inherited some of the heat of her father's smithy craft. Sometimes she would act almost like a boy, and Louise couldn't help being thrilled and amused by her daredevil style. Seeing her here she was shocked, and the mood was highly threatening. She called out, Violet replied and Lou knew they should have had the time to talk, but Violet looked afraid. What had happened?

As they were all driven down here like chattel or prisoners - three of them, a lady around thrity years of age as well - Louise had felt a bleakness sinking into her, but she fought it off: she would have to find a way to get out - and to get Violet with her, maybe the third woman as well. There was simply no leaving here without seeing that Violet would also escape. She grunted as her arms were stretched, her half naked torso, even her breasts bared to the gluttonous eyes of the Count and to anyone he might care to invite. As she looked over, Violet was stretching her arms obscenely high, forced by that rough hook above her. The dim light made them all look even more forlorn.

Then Louise glanced cautiously at the lady on her left, who had not spoken a single word. The woman's hair was streaked with sweat, her green skirt was ripped at the edge and the shreds of a linen headcloth hung around her neck, but she looked somehow more like a woman of some means than a village wench. She craned her neck and moaned softly, very quickly. As Louise caught the lines of her nose, her eyebrows, her high erect neck, it seemed to her that she had seen this lady before. When? It was a mere flash - must have been a long time ago...

The Count's confident scoundrelsome words called her back to immediate reality. "What do you mean Sir? We're supposed to stay along serving you? I'd suppose a Count like you would have plenty servants already..."
No understanding lost on this man. He walked straight up to her and tugged at the tail of her dark hair, sending Louise's eyes up toward the vaulted ceiling. "Not enough of the good service you will know how to provide Us, lass!" he rapped out. Without warning he completed the threat by probing under her ripped blouse, indecently grabbing at her nipple and wrenching it.

Louise breathed in hard, squeezed her eyes to slits and felt a wave of stinging shock and humiliation running through her. "Mmnnnnghh! ah..oh no, Sir! NO! Please, please stop this, Your Highness, please..." She could sense Violet's eyes fixing on her, but he wrenched harder.
"Nnnnghhh! S-stop it, Sir!"