On the narrow infirmary bed lay three women, their lower halves stripped bare. Their left hands and feet were bound tightly to another's right hands and feet with rawhide straps, forming a triangle—heads outward, hips inward. The straps, meant for amputating wounded limbs, held them immobile, despite their strength.
The women, clearly related, had similar faces and full, muscular bodies with taut, wheat-colored skin. Ritchie was captivated by their bowl-shaped breasts, large nipples, and even larger, pinkish-red areolas.
Their raised, firm asses lacked the softness he preferred in mature women, a slight disappointment.
Their legs spread, their enticing petals glistened red, framed by dense pubic hair; abundant but not unattractive.
The sight stirred Ritchie's urge to act, but their fierce glares gave him pause.
They'd woken when Lina stripped them, aware of what was coming. Tears welled, but they held them back, bound by the knight world's code: challenge issued, consequences accepted.
When Lina pushed Ritchie in, the leader snapped, "Private punishment has rules! You can't delegate. Call a gang of men to rape us, and we'll settle the score."
Lina sauntered over, pinched her nose playfully, and smirked. "Helping my man take you doesn't break the rules."
"Your man? Prove it," the leader challenged.
Lina beckoned Ritchie. She unbuckled her belt, dropping her pants to her knees. "Show these sisters what you've got."
Ritchie, blushing, had never performed publicly, but Lina's word was law.
No foreplay needed with Lina. He thrust his cock inside.
Lina loved it rough: full withdrawal, then deep, hard thrusts. Today, she was showing off, letting him pound freely, her ass slapping loudly like a spanking.
She played up a frail act, moaning melodically, her face a mix of pain and ecstasy, pushing the room's atmosphere to a lascivious peak.
"Oh… I can't take it… I'm dying…" Lina screamed, trembling as if she'd climaxed. After a moment, she recovered, looking satisfied yet exhausted, but didn't stop him. Sinking her hips, she took his cock into her ass.
She went wild, hands raking her red hair into a tangled mess, adding to her allure.
"Ah… so good… it's killing me… ah… ah… ah…"
After over a hundred thrusts, Lina let out a soul-stirring scream, her body convulsing, head thrashing as if overwhelmed.
When Ritchie pulled out, she looked drained, limbs limp.
Standing aside, he marveled silently. Lina was a master performer. He knew this was barely an appetizer for her.
Panting, hands braced on the bed's edge, Lina lazily told the three newcomers, "I planned a small lesson, but now it's more. You'll go through what I just did."
"I'll clean them up," Ritchie said eagerly. Lina had taught him anal required cleaning beforehand, but she always did it herself, never letting him help.
His head took a heavy smack.
Lina glared, eyes narrowed. "Women have dignity. Sex is normal, even if it's wild, but there's a line. Cross it, and it's it's violation."
Ritchie was kicked out, grumbling inwardly. Wasn't what was coming rape? Wasn't this already violation? Would these women still have dignity after this?
After twenty minutes outside, he was called back.
The room's vibe had shifted. The three women lay flushed, faces red.
"What are you waiting for? Get in," Lina said, tweaking the leader's nipples, already engorged and hard.
The space between them was tight, but Ritchie, not bulky, knelt comfortably.
Their slits were slick, and to his surprise, each had a pink membrane at the entrance. Hymen…?
Ritchie had never seen one. Isabella, Lina, and Rosa weren't virgins. Katherine was, but her teasing, gauzy panties stayed on, hiding everything.
"Don't stare. All virgins. Lucky you," Lina said, propping her chin, ready for the show. Seeing him hesitate, she added, "Keeping women waiting isn't gentlemanly."
Blushing, Ritchie aimed his tip at one slit and thrust hard.
The heat hit him first—wet, fiery, like a furnace.
"Feels good, right? Warm," Lina said, smirking. "Their red, vibrant slits mean strong vitality. Hehe, they're like little furnaces. Their fighting aura is fierce too. Enjoy.
"Harder. They like strong men. Hit deep, aim for the cervix, into the womb. They'll pass out from excitement," Lina coached, part mentor, part overseer.
Ritchie knew virgins needed gentleness, but with Lina watching, he had no choice. He silently apologized.., but not all sincerely. Their fault for crossing this terrifying woman, after all.
Despite their knightly strength, physical power didn't matter here. The woman he fucked quickly lost herself, babbling, "Ah… ah… it's itchy inside… ah… I can't… ah… harder… I love you…"
Her loud cries likely echoed beyond the camp.
The sound of slapping flesh mixed with her high-low moans and screams. Lina beamed, thrilled. The other two women, red-faced, were nervous yet faintly eager.
This wasn't the first night they'd dreamed of. But a stormy, unforgettable first might not be so bad.
Women, even knight women, when left with no choice but to endure, start finding silver linings.
Ritchie was lost in the intense sensation.
The untouched passage was tight, narrower than Lina's gripping hold, but it carried a raw, natural thrill.
Even more intoxicating was the flood of life energy, so potent it felt undilutable.
If Lina's energy was a clear spring, this was aged, heady wine.
"Enough, switch," Lina said, watching closely. She knew Ritchie's stamina drained women fast, pushing them to climax easily. Seeing the woman under him falter, she stopped him.
Ritchie obeyed.
In under an hour, he claimed three virginities. The dense life energy left him feeling full for the first time.
The first woman, now recovered, had color back in her face.
Ritchie glanced at Lina, who propped her chin, awaiting the next act.
He silently apologized to the woman.
Aiming his tip at her tight anal bud, slick with her juices, he thrust hard.
She groaned in pain, her face twisting as she bit down to endure.
This was the true private punishment for their defeat.
The agony didn't last long. A strange pleasure soon overtook the pain, distinct from regular sex.
"Ah… ah… harder… I want… harder…" Her moans echoed, growing louder, wilder.
Leaving the infirmary, Ritchie felt eyes on him, different now. Diana and Marilyn smirked. Captain Carrie grew colder. Robin, always harsh, glared harder. Randy's look held mild reproach and resignation. Only Rosa was unchanged, her eyes scheming mischief. Ritchie fled.
Unsure what came next, he asked Diana for leave and headed home early.
At the door, he hesitated. Early returns could mean anything.
He knocked anyway, a flicker of anticipation he dared not name.
Inside, things seemed normal. His mom and Aunt Grace, fully dressed, sat on the couch flipping through a book. Katherine leaned over, pointing and commenting.
"Dear, you're back early. Everything okay?" his mom asked, concerned.
"Fine," Ritchie said, then noticed their book—a yearbook. "What's that?"
"My high school yearbook," his mom sighed, wistful. "After parting, some stayed in touch, others vanished."