-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
A Legendary Heroic Tale: They Say It Actually Happened in Nottingham in 1191
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
Zounds! Gadzooks! Alas and Alack!
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
Another good one. I plan to use it in episode 3.
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
settantuno
MUTUS PICTOR
Episode 03
Hounds Gate Road, Nottingham, Saturday 15 June 1191.
The High Sheriff watched from the castle ramparts, filled with satisfaction as the horse-drawn-cart, bearing his disgraced wife Barbara, trundled slowly towards the center of town along Hounds Gate Road.
News of her public whipping had definitely spread. Throngs of townsfolk, as well as peasantry in from the surrounding countryside, could be seen lining the way as far as St. Peter’s Church, where the cart would bear left to enter the broad end of Nottingham town’s irregularly-shaped market square.
Standing defiantly upright and facing forward, was his adulterous wife, clad in nothing more than a high-necked, loose-sleeved under tunic of modest length … her long hair braided and tied up around her head.
An armed escort of twelve kept the restless crowd at bay as the cart trundled forwards.
He continued to watch its slow progress until the cart had moved well down the road. Only then did he call for the horse and escort that would take him, via a less crowded route, to the place of her public humiliation and punishment.
As he waited for his mount and escort to be readied in the castle keep below, he turned to the castle’s captain of the men at arms, and asked, “is everyone in position in the event that Robin Hood should be so bold as to attempt anything?”
“Yes, m’Lord. My men are moving into position as we speak … many of them to be interspersed amongst the crowd disguised as common folk. Everything shall be in readiness, exactly as you so ordered.”
“Excellent, as I suspect this knave, Robin Hood, will be unable to resist the temptation.”
But then, on observing several of the captain’s burly men passing out through the castle gate, rather implausibly dressed to impersonate peasant women, the Sheriff couldn’t help but feel a wave of doubtful anxiety sweep over him.
*******************
For Barbara, a resolute stoicism … a refusal to respond in any way to the humiliation, pain and distress she knew was coming her way … was her self-determined goal. Neither her husband or the crowd, in her mind, would be allowed on this day to see her do otherwise. She intended to defy them all.
Thus, as the cart rumbled along Hounds Gate Road she turned a deaf ear to the shouted jeers of the onlookers who lined the way.
She’d grown weary of being abused. It was not only the previous day’s rack torture that she’d tried her best to endure, but also being taken to the quarters of the Dungeon Master’s crew
Where she was subjected all night long to their violations of her womanhood … the repeated rude pawings of her most intimate bits followed by brutal rapes, both front and rear … that’d tried her soul.
It had been a very long night. She’d gotten no rest. And taken from her cell at dawn she’d seen with foreboding the first light of dawn through an open window as they escorted her, still naked and shackled, from the castle dungeon to a room with a tub, in which they’d washed and scrubbed away the filth and grime from her body
Now, washed and prettied up, more or less covered, she’d carry out her determination to defy them all. She’d focus her gaze on the tower of St. Peter’s and hold it there … although the constant swaying and jolting of the cart beneath her bare feet soon made that a challenge. Willing herself to ignore the madding crowd and turn her consciousness inwards … to her own thoughts!
And those thoughts inevitably took the form of questions … questions uncomfortable, vexing and seemingly unanswerable … questions that had haunted her throughout the previous day and night she’d spent in the castle dungeon … questions that doggedly remained with her to the very present.
To begin with … why had she allowed herself to acquiesce to her father’s demands that she give her fair hand in marriage to that hideous beast of a man, the High Sheriff of Nottingham! Normally she’d have very much enjoyed defying her father’s wishes, and she might well have resisted his entreaties indefinitely. She prided herself on being the Rebel of the family … in sharp contrast with her four insufferable elder sisters.
But she hadn’t! She’d agreed to marry him! Why? She really couldn’t explain it. It certainly wasn’t his good looks, the man was ugly as sin! Although she had to admit his performance in bed was not so terrible … he certainly was an experienced lover!
And secondly, whatever then possessed her to defy her husband by inviting a complete stranger into her wedding bed a mere three days after the consummation of her marriage? While promiscuous behavior was no stranger to Barbara. She was, after all, the family rebel. But this was … this msn was … simply beyond any thing she’d previously experienced.
Clad all in forest green, he’d appeared suddenly in the open window, arriving there by some miraculously amazing feat of derring do … as that castle window was high over the keep below. Perhaps he’d climbed the wall like a spider? Or flew like a bat?
She didn’t know. But he’d quickly hopped from the sill to the floor, thrown back his head and laughed at the sight of her mixed bewilderment and awe.
She’d sat bolt upright in bed and pulled the bed clothes about her to cover her nudity, all the time fixing her eyes upon that dashingly handsome hunk of a man.
“Wh … who … are you!” she’d stammered.
“Robin of Loxley, at your service my lovely,” he’d replied as he stripped away his forest green tunic, revealing an almost perfectly magnificent male physique. “Most around here know me as “Robin Hood”.
“Ohhhhh,” she’d gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve heard that the High Sheriff has taken a bride, and unable to imagine what kind of poor girl would ever accept such a marriage willingly, I’ve come to find out!”
“The Sheriff’s really not as bad as people say.”
“Really now? I find that hard to believe.”
“Well … I mean … ummm …”
“Your husband, m’Lady is a cruel, rapacious man, who takes from the poor. He’s a bad apple if there ever was one! And tonight I’m here to reverse the tables and take from him. Come to me!”
She didn’t know know why, but she’d did as he bid, dropping the bed clothes, stepping from the bed to the floor and standing before him, arms and hands shyly attempting to cover her breasts and cunt.
“I could scream and call for the castle guards, you know!” She’d said to him evenly, eyes flashing.
“But you won’t,” he’d replied as he circled around her, inspecting her body with an approving smile. And then, from behind, he’d abruptly pressed his bare chest to her bare back, encircled her with his strong muscular arms and nibbled at her neck and ears … his hands moving deftly to her breasts and nipples.
And that was it. She’d simply melted. They’d spent the night together, and she couldn’t recall how many times he’d ravaged her, or in how many different ways. She’d never experienced anything like it!
And then he’d left abruptly, as though through some extraordinary sixth sense he could recognize approaching danger. In a flash, he was out the window through which he’d come, leaving her to explain her obviously sated condition to her husband, as well as the stains on and disarray of the bedclothes.
Thus Robin Hood had struck a blow at tyranny, and she’d been inexplicably … or perhaps not so inexplicably … complicit. Which is why she’d resisted revealing to her furious husband the identity of her late night lover … that is until the bastard had sent her to the castle dungeon to confess while being stretched nearly beyond endurance on the torture rack.
TBC
Hounds Gate Road, Nottingham, Saturday 15 June 1191.
The High Sheriff watched from the castle ramparts, filled with satisfaction as the horse-drawn-cart, bearing his disgraced wife Barbara, trundled slowly towards the center of town along Hounds Gate Road.
News of her public whipping had definitely spread. Throngs of townsfolk, as well as peasantry in from the surrounding countryside, could be seen lining the way as far as St. Peter’s Church, where the cart would bear left to enter the broad end of Nottingham town’s irregularly-shaped market square.
Standing defiantly upright and facing forward, was his adulterous wife, clad in nothing more than a high-necked, loose-sleeved under tunic of modest length … her long hair braided and tied up around her head.
An armed escort of twelve kept the restless crowd at bay as the cart trundled forwards.
He continued to watch its slow progress until the cart had moved well down the road. Only then did he call for the horse and escort that would take him, via a less crowded route, to the place of her public humiliation and punishment.
As he waited for his mount and escort to be readied in the castle keep below, he turned to the castle’s captain of the men at arms, and asked, “is everyone in position in the event that Robin Hood should be so bold as to attempt anything?”
“Yes, m’Lord. My men are moving into position as we speak … many of them to be interspersed amongst the crowd disguised as common folk. Everything shall be in readiness, exactly as you so ordered.”
“Excellent, as I suspect this knave, Robin Hood, will be unable to resist the temptation.”
But then, on observing several of the captain’s burly men passing out through the castle gate, rather implausibly dressed to impersonate peasant women, the Sheriff couldn’t help but feel a wave of doubtful anxiety sweep over him.
*******************
For Barbara, a resolute stoicism … a refusal to respond in any way to the humiliation, pain and distress she knew was coming her way … was her self-determined goal. Neither her husband or the crowd, in her mind, would be allowed on this day to see her do otherwise. She intended to defy them all.
Thus, as the cart rumbled along Hounds Gate Road she turned a deaf ear to the shouted jeers of the onlookers who lined the way.
She’d grown weary of being abused. It was not only the previous day’s rack torture that she’d tried her best to endure, but also being taken to the quarters of the Dungeon Master’s crew
Where she was subjected all night long to their violations of her womanhood … the repeated rude pawings of her most intimate bits followed by brutal rapes, both front and rear … that’d tried her soul.
It had been a very long night. She’d gotten no rest. And taken from her cell at dawn she’d seen with foreboding the first light of dawn through an open window as they escorted her, still naked and shackled, from the castle dungeon to a room with a tub, in which they’d washed and scrubbed away the filth and grime from her body
Now, washed and prettied up, more or less covered, she’d carry out her determination to defy them all. She’d focus her gaze on the tower of St. Peter’s and hold it there … although the constant swaying and jolting of the cart beneath her bare feet soon made that a challenge. Willing herself to ignore the madding crowd and turn her consciousness inwards … to her own thoughts!
And those thoughts inevitably took the form of questions … questions uncomfortable, vexing and seemingly unanswerable … questions that had haunted her throughout the previous day and night she’d spent in the castle dungeon … questions that doggedly remained with her to the very present.
To begin with … why had she allowed herself to acquiesce to her father’s demands that she give her fair hand in marriage to that hideous beast of a man, the High Sheriff of Nottingham! Normally she’d have very much enjoyed defying her father’s wishes, and she might well have resisted his entreaties indefinitely. She prided herself on being the Rebel of the family … in sharp contrast with her four insufferable elder sisters.
But she hadn’t! She’d agreed to marry him! Why? She really couldn’t explain it. It certainly wasn’t his good looks, the man was ugly as sin! Although she had to admit his performance in bed was not so terrible … he certainly was an experienced lover!
And secondly, whatever then possessed her to defy her husband by inviting a complete stranger into her wedding bed a mere three days after the consummation of her marriage? While promiscuous behavior was no stranger to Barbara. She was, after all, the family rebel. But this was … this msn was … simply beyond any thing she’d previously experienced.
Clad all in forest green, he’d appeared suddenly in the open window, arriving there by some miraculously amazing feat of derring do … as that castle window was high over the keep below. Perhaps he’d climbed the wall like a spider? Or flew like a bat?
She didn’t know. But he’d quickly hopped from the sill to the floor, thrown back his head and laughed at the sight of her mixed bewilderment and awe.
She’d sat bolt upright in bed and pulled the bed clothes about her to cover her nudity, all the time fixing her eyes upon that dashingly handsome hunk of a man.
“Wh … who … are you!” she’d stammered.
“Robin of Loxley, at your service my lovely,” he’d replied as he stripped away his forest green tunic, revealing an almost perfectly magnificent male physique. “Most around here know me as “Robin Hood”.
“Ohhhhh,” she’d gasped. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve heard that the High Sheriff has taken a bride, and unable to imagine what kind of poor girl would ever accept such a marriage willingly, I’ve come to find out!”
“The Sheriff’s really not as bad as people say.”
“Really now? I find that hard to believe.”
“Well … I mean … ummm …”
“Your husband, m’Lady is a cruel, rapacious man, who takes from the poor. He’s a bad apple if there ever was one! And tonight I’m here to reverse the tables and take from him. Come to me!”
She didn’t know know why, but she’d did as he bid, dropping the bed clothes, stepping from the bed to the floor and standing before him, arms and hands shyly attempting to cover her breasts and cunt.
“I could scream and call for the castle guards, you know!” She’d said to him evenly, eyes flashing.
“But you won’t,” he’d replied as he circled around her, inspecting her body with an approving smile. And then, from behind, he’d abruptly pressed his bare chest to her bare back, encircled her with his strong muscular arms and nibbled at her neck and ears … his hands moving deftly to her breasts and nipples.
And that was it. She’d simply melted. They’d spent the night together, and she couldn’t recall how many times he’d ravaged her, or in how many different ways. She’d never experienced anything like it!
And then he’d left abruptly, as though through some extraordinary sixth sense he could recognize approaching danger. In a flash, he was out the window through which he’d come, leaving her to explain her obviously sated condition to her husband, as well as the stains on and disarray of the bedclothes.
Thus Robin Hood had struck a blow at tyranny, and she’d been inexplicably … or perhaps not so inexplicably … complicit. Which is why she’d resisted revealing to her furious husband the identity of her late night lover … that is until the bastard had sent her to the castle dungeon to confess while being stretched nearly beyond endurance on the torture rack.
TBC
Migoz2
Senator
Taken verbatim from the review she left on RateMyCell.
He kept his hat on?!
The UK branch of the Moore family are renowned ne'er-do-wells
gerembeau
Tribune
Fabulous bird's eye view
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Ladies, always be careful when some handsome Errol Flynn lookalike suddenly pops up in your bedroom!
Davec5299
Magistrate
Ladies, always be careful when some handsome Errol Flynn lookalike suddenly pops up in your bedroom!
Errol who??????
There's only one real Robin Hood
