He's worse than other men

"Go ahead and fight me, Pigeon." Brother Bertram murmured almost gently, "I like it when proud young noblewomen think they can resist the inevitable." Christine felt the giant's hands settle on her waist. Hands so large that they completely encircled her waist; clearly the man was as aware as she about their relative sizes. "Especially when they are tiny little things like you, Lady Gerard."

"Don't touch me." Even to Christine's own ears the words sounded plaintive and weak.

"Oh, I'm going to do more than just touch you, Lady Gerard." One of Bertram's hands climbed upwards over the soft curve of her belly holding her tightly against his rough robes, but it was the hand heading in the other direction that made Christine wiggle desperately in her chains. Her petite frame however was no match for the strength of the man who outweighed her by a factor of almost three.

"God, you're going to squeal like a suckling pig at the butchers when I stick my meat into this sweet little pussy." Betram held her struggling form in place as one of his fat fingers found her tight slit and started to press between the pink petals. The man lifted her even higher into the air, so her feet churned the air almost a foot above the straw-covered floor. His head dropped to her cheek, and she could smell the stench of his breath as he chuckled softly. "It's too bad this pretty little pussy of yours is off limits for now, but I don't mind waiting my turn." As he spoke, his finger pushed even deeper into her holy-of-holies making Christine squirm even more desperately.

"Stop!" Christine gasped as she felt the thick ball of his finger stretch her fragile maidenhead. "You'll ruin me!" Perhaps her plea reached some small part of his sense, because to her relief he slowly pulled the digit out and then lifted it to her face.

"You smell that, little one?" He asked as he rubbed his finger under her nose, "that's the scent of highborn cherry." The pungent smell filling Christine's nostrils was earthy and rich and in spite of the humiliating nature of what was happening she could feel her insides starting to warm. Her tormentor moved his hand to his mouth and slurped on the finger, sucking her juices from his finger with undisguised relish. "Umm. You want a taste, Lady Christine?"

"No!" This time there was a little more conviction in her tone and to her surprise Brother Bertram lowered her so her feet could reach the ground. Bertram stepped back into the center of the cell and just as Christine began to hope that the ordeal might be over, she watched in growing alarm as the monk shrugged out of his roughspun woolen robes and let them slide to his ankles.

The man was already fully aroused, and Christine stared in disbelief at his manhood. It was easily as long and thick as her forearm, with a head the size of her fist. Even in the half-light of the dank cell she could see the glistening of a drop at the tip of the ruddy scepter as his palm stroked the monster casually.

"You can make this stop right now, Lady Gerard." Bertram voice was coldly menacing, "all I need from you is a few tidbits to placate our mutual acquaintance. Tell me where to find your brother and your father's ring and your tight little holes are safe from me." There was an uncomfortable pause as Betram stroked his cock as he grinned at Christine. "You need to give me something pretty Lady, that's just the way it is."