“What is your name, boy?”

“Craig, Lord,” the boy said bravely. He was fairly tall, with broad shoulders and a pretty face.

“You are a squire, yes?” He nodded. “You must be proud,” I sneered. His chin raised higher and he nodded again. I came up behind him and whispered in his ear.

“You’ll never hold your head up in public again. Make a sound, you die.”

I grabbed his hands and quickly tied them behind his back, then I shoved my sock in his mouth. He struggled helplessly. I peered around and looked in his eyes. They were full of hatred, but no fear. I glared at him. “You will be afraid when I’m done with you…” And then I entered him from behind. He groaned and struggled but I held his hips in one place as I moved in and out, relishing in his shame.

When I was finished with that I placed myself in his hands until his hands shook with disgust and rage. I pulled him onto the bed and laughed in his face.

He couldn’t meet my eyes.

I was finally satisfied.