Behold the sacrificial virgin.
Rhoslyn stood on the wooden platform, her hands bound, facing the gleeful crowd. Previous virgins had screamed with fright and fought their destiny. She waited calmly, clad in a silk shift so sheer, every male present had a clear view of her nipples and the short brown curls covering her mons. The farmers, merchants, even men old enough to be her grandfather, looked their fill, their eyes wide, their skin flushed with lust, their cocks hard in their breeches. The lecherous attention would have horrified a modest maiden.
Rhoslyn was not a modest maiden... or a virgin.
Worried her ruse would be uncovered, Rhoslyn breathed a sigh of relief as the two large men tugged on her ropes, spreading her arms wide and lifting her until her bare feet dangled above the platform. As the ropes were tied, other men grabbed her ankles and placed her soles on notches in the intricately carved poles. One greasy palm lingered, sliding up her right leg underneath her shift.
Esel's palm. Her top lip curled with disgust. The slimy merchant grabbed her at every opportunity, murmuring promises of freedom if she tolerated his touch.
He didn't know she had no wish to be freed. Rhoslyn gazed toward the horizon, her body humming with anticipation, her passions primed by other men's stolen caresses.
"Bare the maiden," a big-bellied vassal ordered, his fleshy frame clad in rich green velvet and decorated with gold. Wunde was a prosperous land, guarded fervently by a strong dragon lord, and the leader of the villagers wore his personal wealth upon his stoutly person.
The men eagerly sliced their blades through Rhoslyn's flimsy shift. The fabric slid over breasts full and heavy with arousal, and grazed her sensitive nipples to hang around her hips. Hands brushed her curves as the daggers descended once more to shred the shift into strips, exposing her nakedness to the male spectators.
Rhoslyn tilted her chin upward, confronting her audience proudly. The men didn't meet her gaze. They stared lower, unabashedly peering between her spread thighs and leering at her bare breasts. A clergyman licked his lips. A baker rubbed himself through his breeches, a cloud of flour rising from the coarse cloth.
The vassal, a bearded man, cleared his throat, silencing the rowdy crowd. "We will confirm her purity."
Sweet Mercy, not again. Rhoslyn stiffened. "My purity has been confirmed."
The vassal's eyes narrowed. "We will not risk raising the ire of the dragon." He dipped his ringed hands in a bowl of water. "It will take but a moment."
It will not. Rhoslyn bit her lip, stifling her protest. The first confirmation required the participation of every male in the village. By the excited murmurings of the crowd, this confirmation would be as thorough.
Even if she passed the test once more, she wouldn't last through the sensuous torture with her self-respect fully intact. For two days, her body had been fondled and caressed, and she hadn't been granted one moment alone to bring herself to a much-needed private release. Already her pussy throbbed with wanting.
For another man's touch. Rhoslyn flushed with shame. I must be loyal to my dragon lord. She solidified her resolve. I cannot enjoy this.
As the vassal parted her pussy lips with his thick finger, Rhoslyn clenched down, narrowing her non-virginal passage. Please let him be fooled once more.
He entered her slowly, pressing his fingertip against her inner walls, and moisture flowed over his fat finger, Rhoslyn's body betraying her heart and her mind. The vassal, father of three grown boys also standing on the green awaiting their turn, grunted with excitement, his belly rubbing against her thigh.
He buried his finger up to the joint and worked the thickness in and out of her, mimicking the sexual act. He hadn't Blau's rhythm, nor his strength, and Rhoslyn bit the inside of her cheek to keep from pleading for more fingers and harder thrusts.
The vassal withdrew his finger with an embarrassingly loud pop. "She is pure," he declared and wiped her juices on his breeches, the wet spot proof of her shame.
"I will also confirm." The elderly priest, with hair as white as a fresh winter snow, splashed his hands in the water. His finger, long and thin and wrinkled, shook as he skimmed over her clit, along her pussy lips, before finding her entrance. Rhoslyn swallowed a moan, aroused by his bungling.
I am a harlot. As the ancient man of God pillaged her pussy, his wizened thumb pressing against her clit, Rhoslyn struggled to control her responses by studying their audience. Farmers rubbed themselves with zeal. The shoemaker, his breeches around his ankles, stroked his big cock enthusiastically.
Blau's cock, the only one she'd ever had inside her, was bigger. Rhoslyn closed her eyes, remembering the last time he'd taken her through their mate link, wielding drakon magic to cross the vast distance between them. Her dragon lord had come to her in silence and covered her face, her neck, and her breasts with hard, possessive kisses. She'd opened to him, and he'd mounted her swiftly, surely, completely claiming her body as his. They'd rutted like animals, with a ferocity, a burning passion so intense she had been engulfed in his flame.
"She is pure." The priest dispelled her reverie and verified Rhoslyn's lie, Blau having long ago taken her virginity.
"I will confirm next." Esel shoved another merchant aside. Saliva pooled in the corner of his mouth, his lips disgustingly moist.
Anyone but him. Bile rose in Rhoslyn's throat. If I respond to his touch, I truly am wanton.
He washed his hands in the bowl, and the dirt turned the water brown. She'd seen those grubby palms strike a child -- the girl sent sprawling to the cobblestones. She'd vowed then and there that when she was Blau's lady wife, she'd ensure Esel never touched another child.
The merchant leaned toward her, his putrid breath wafting on her cheek, and Rhoslyn reared back, trying to escape him. She couldn't as she was tied securely to the poles, and his ill-kept fingernail raked along her thigh, drawing blood.
"To hunger the dragon." Esel smirked. He shoved his finger into her pussy.
A dragon's roar concealed her cry. The villagers scattered, fleeing to safety, yelling to others to save themselves. Esel continued to ram his finger into her farther and farther, not moving from his spot on the platform. Soon, they were alone -- Rhoslyn and her abuser.
"The dragon is a jealous beast." Rhoslyn grimaced, fighting her body's reaction to his cruelty. "He will smell you on me."
The merchant's face paled. "He will smell your blood." He withdrew his finger and scratched her skin once again, the sting dampening her arousal. "Have you seen a dragon's cock, proud Rhoslyn?" Esel circled her. "It is the size of these poles." He slapped the wood. "When he drives into you, that cunt you have been guarding so adamantly will be split in two." He laughed.
"Better his cock than yours," Rhoslyn taunted.
"You will get both, harlot." Esel whacked her ass cheek with his closed fist. The impact swayed her body, and she moaned with pain.
The dragon shrieked. He beat his wings faster and faster, sunlight reflecting off his blue scales.
My mate comes for me. Finally.
For years, he'd visited her through their mate link, a nocturnal connection blurring the division between dream and reality. He'd wooed her, seduced her, fucked her with all the strength in his human form, leaving her covered with love bites and filled with his cum. Rhoslyn had waited for him to search her out during waking hours, to make her his mate in truth, yet he hadn't, plundering virgins from his village instead.
Today, I am that virgin. Rhoslyn raised her chin. And I will claim him.