They were grabbed by their forearms and roughly escorted through the heavy door, the iron hinges creaking loudly with rust. They were led outside, for they smelled fresh air for the first time since being imprisoned in the stone fortress.

"Quickly," they heard someone shout with urgency. "They must be away from here quickly." Peter and Davy were lifted onto a wooden platform. They heard a horse whinny with agitation not to far from them, then a crack of a whip. Below them the platform moved forward setting them off balance, making them bounce into the walls around them.

Peter fell backwards when the platform lurched forward. "We're being moved," he whispered.

"Yeah, to where I wonder?" Davy asked while trying to center himself the best he could in the darkness of his hood and with his hands tied.

Thoughts raced through both Peter's and Davy's minds. Peter had thought that he was on death's door, but here they were being whisked away from one hell into another. Peter wished that this was a nightmare and that sometime soon he would wake up.

Davy shook with the cart, bumping along the path. Once more they were thrown into something that they could not get out of. They had been threatened with sure death when Micky was forced to choose one of them for something, and the other two were to be killed. Davy knew that Mike would be Micky's choice. He laughed to himself, 'who else would it have been?' So now where were they being taken? At least he and Peter were still together.

Davy tried to move his tied wrists, but the rope was too tight to allow any movement. They traveled in the cart for some time, dozing when possible at stretches that didn't jostle them. Suddenly the cart came to a halt. They heard bits of the conversation.

"Who travels this far at night?" Someone called out.

"I have cargo to be at the market by morning," the driver replied

"Cargo, what type would that be, old man?"

"Slaves," was the reply.

After a moments silence, the hoods were removed from Davy and Peter. A man that looked to be in his early thirties looked them over and gave a sly smile. "Old man, looks like you are about to lose your slaves."

The man came down from his perch on the cart and asked forgiveness. "Please, I have been sent from Dargon's house, if I do not return with the money of their sale, I will be killed."

Peter saw the glint of the sword pull out of its sheath and in one swift move the leader of bandits plunged it into the driver. The bandit pulled the sword out as the driver fell forward to the ground.

One of the bandits got onto the perch of the cart and eased the horse forward.

Peter and Davy could now add shanghaied to their list of misadventures. The sun began to rise over the rolling hills as they continued through an earthen wall and finally stopped. Two of the bandits yanked them out of the cart to stand on unsteady legs. They looked around them and saw that they were within the walls of a fort and before them on a rise was a large stone tower.

"A keep," Davy murmured. They were shoved forward. Halfway up the path Peter faltered. Their lack of food was starting to wear on him. Two guards picked Peter up by his arms and helped him forward to the stone building.

They were brought up the stairs and entered the great hall. Before them was a long table with men sitting along it. The smell of food made Davy's stomach growl. They were brought to stand before the older man that had killed the driver.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked seeing that Peter was supported by two of his men.

"He faltered, Lord."

"We have been without food for several days," Davy explained.

The Lord nodded, and then stood up. He walked over to stand before Davy, giving him a once over. He stood only an inch taller than Davy and seemed not taken by the young man. He then walked to stand before Peter, who was being supported by the guards. He reached out to touch Peter's hair then his chin to have him look up. A smile came to the Lords face.

Davy thought that smile looked a little too devious for his comfort, and he knew immediately that the Lord fancied Peter.

"Take them to a room, and give them food and water," he ordered the guards. Then he looked once more at Peter. "Tonight." With that the boys were taken from the great room and down circular stairs. They were brought to the next level and locked into a room with a straw mat in the corner and a high window to allow some dim light.

Davy helped Peter to the hay and laid him down to rest. Peter was fighting to keep conscious for he was weak from hunger. While Davy helped him down, he noticed Davy's wrists which were bloody from the rope.

"Davy? Your wrists?" Peter asked, reaching to touch it.

Davy looked at his bloody wrists, then shrugged. "Tried to wiggle out of the ropes last night," he explained to his friend. "Now lay back and rest."

The door opened and a guard brought in a tray of food and fresh water.

Davy sat down next to Peter and fed him. Peter did his best to take the food and water that Davy brought to his lips, but his strength was weakening. "I'm tired Davy," Peter sighed.

"Get some rest, Petah, I'll watch out for us." Peter nodded, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

Davy looked down at Peter and felt sorry for him. He didn't like the look of the lord when he announced 'tonight.' He reached down and brushed Peter's bangs off his forehead. He knew that Peter was in for something.

Light was waning when Peter woke. Davy had moved Peter's head on his lap, using the wall as support behind him. He was staring out into nothing.

"Davy?" Peter whispered.

Davy heard Peter and wiped his face and looked down. "You're awake."

"What's wrong?" Peter asked, not knowing what Davy was aware of.

"Wishing we were back home - that we didn't even come to England."

Peter sat up and put his arms around him. "No one could have seen this happening. It's a fluke."

"But look at us. We are prisoners and Mike and Micky are gone and we are just being used. Tonight the lord is going to..." he stopped, not wanting his fear to become Peter's.

"Going to what, Davy?"

"Nothing." Davy looked down, not trusting himself to look into Peter's innocent eyes.

The door opened and the guards came in. "The Lord wishes to see you."

They were brought to the great hall which was filled with more men this time including the Lord. "Our new slaves," he announced to the room. The men laughed. The Lord looked at them and nodded at Peter. "Take him to my chambers."

Peter's eyes grew wide with alarm. "Davy!" he screamed as he was dragged by the two guards out of the room.

Davy watched with a fallen heart as Peter was hauled out of the room to his own hell. Davy moved his site from the empty doorway back to the Lord.

"Commander of Arms," he called out.

"Yes, my Lord."

"You can use him as you see fit."

"Yes, my Lord." The Lord turned to leave through the same entrance Peter had been taken through.

Davy looked around the room at the men he was left with. They had moved from their benches and were approaching. Several here rubbing their cocks through the fabric of the their pants and tunics. Davy groaned to himself, he just knew that he was going die while being gang raped.

"Off with the robe!" The Commander of Arms ordered Davy.

Davy slowly let it drop from his body. Men howled and whistled, and called him names.

The guards pushed him forward to the end of the table, forcing him to lay over the top. His arms were brought up over his head, and ropes were tied to his wrists. His ass was left open in plain view to the room of onlookers.

He closed his eyes for a moment and said a silent prayer. When he opened them, he saw it was the Commander of Arms that would have him first. He loosened his laces and revealed a thick cock. Davy's screams filled the room with his torment of his ass being split by his first attacker.

Peter had little strength to fight his guards. He stood in the room, too shocked to move. Peter looked up when the heavy door opened and saw the Lord enter.

"Remove your robe," he ordered Peter. Peter was still in shock. Having been pulled away from Davy and thinking of what he was going through. Peter felt numb.

The Lord pulled a dagger from its sheath and walked over to him. He held it up for Peter to see it. Peter remembered what he had done with his sword the night before and felt that he wouldn't hesitate to use this dagger on him. First Peter closed his eye, then with shaky fingers he opened the robe and let it drop to the floor, and stood naked before the Lord.

Peter opened his eyes to see that the Lord was looking him over. Peter knew that he had several dark bruises and welts from his ordeal. Then he saw the Lord bring the dagger to his chest, lightly dragging it across from left to right, drawing a thin line of blood as it cut the skin. Peter watched as the blood came to the surface, vaguely feeling the pain for his fear was high. The dagger then made a pass down this chest, abdomen, and hip.

The Lord stepped back to admire his handiwork and licked his lips. He moved forward causing Peter to back away from him. After a few steps he fell backwards onto the bed.

The Lord put the dagger point down on the table by the bed then untied the belt that held his pants and let them drop to the floor as he raised his loose fitting shirt over his head.

Peter realized what the Lord's intent was and tried to scurry off the bed. The Lord easily grabbed him, pinning him to the bed with his weight. "There is no place to go," he told Peter. "If you don't let me have you here, you will be enjoyed by the men in the great hall, like your friend."

The Lord brought his lips down to one of Peter's cuts and licked the blood, causing more pain. Peter trembled with fear as the Lord held him in place to lick away the blood.

Peter trembled under the onslaught of the tongue that cleaned each wound. He refused to look at the Lord, and instead kept his eyes aimed forward to the ceiling, and slowly tears came to Peter's eyes and fell away.

The Lord was not pleased that Peter was taking such a passive stance. He liked his new conquests with a little spirit. Perhaps if they had an audience his blond slave would show some will. "Bring the little one here," he ordered his guards.

Peter's eyes shot to look at the Lord. He stammered out, "Why?" and thought to himself, 'Why demoralize me in front of a friend? Just get it over with.'

The door opened and two guards brought Davy into the room. He could not walk on his own, so they carried him to the bed where he was secured to the two tall banisters, leaving him to hang by his wrists, for his legs refused to hold his weight.

Peter got to his knees, forgetting his own problems and looked to Davy.

Davy had some bruises on his skin but his worst feelings were from the rapes.

"Davy?" Peter whispered.

Davy lifted his head; he saw the red welts that covered Peter's chest. The Lord watched them for a moment then called to Peter. "Come before me."

Davy nodded his head to urge Peter to comply.

Peter moved off the bed and kneeled on the floor. The Lord stepped closer and brought Peter's head to his groin, leaving little room to know that he wanted his cock in Peter's mouth. On reflex Peter gagged from the smell and the thought of giving this man a blowjob. The Lord backhanded him for his resistance.

He left Peter and went to Davy and picked up the switch from the table. He struck Davy across his lower back.

Peter heard Davy cry out in pain with the first strike on his flesh. The Lord gave Davy four more.

Peter watched in horror. "Stop, please!" he begged.

The Lord turned to stand before Peter and he opened his mouth and took the offered cock. He licked and sucked, thinking what girls did to him and soon had the Lord moving his hips. The Lord put his hands in Peter's hair holding him close while he came.

Peter gagged and sputtered when the Lord let him go and then pulled him up and threw him on to the bed.

Davy watched as the Lord brought the dagger close to Peter. Peter froze once more with fear. 'Not again,' he thought. He knew that the Lord would not be kind. He stared wide-eyed as the Lord came close to his groin with the metal edge, drawing blood once more along his hip. It was deeper this time, causing pain. Peter gasped and tried to move away, and was backhanded hard, stunning him.

Davy understood how Peter got the other cuts on his body. "Sick Bastard," he said. Peter saw the knife come at him once more, it cut deeper into his flesh, and blood came quickly to the surface, flowing over his skin. He cried out with pain. The Lord threw the knife back onto the table after he was done with his cuts.

The Lord moved Peter onto his stomach then onto his knees. Peter had never been the receiving end of a male encounter; he shook with pain and fear. Then he was rammed from behind, causing him to cry out in agony. He tried to move away but hands held him tight.

Davy watched as the Lord moved his body in and out of Peter's ass. Peter took a hand full of cloth and held on while his was fucked from behind.

The Lord moved and pounded into the blonde's ass. The tightness was something he hadn't felt for some time. Most men were used by this age. The Lord moved quickly and deeply, pounding Peter with each thrust. The Lord felt himself tighten for his release and he plunged in, causing Peter to howl in pain more.

Davy felt useless, all he could do is cry, seeing Peter used so ruthlessly. Peter had always been the innocent one of the group. Now he had been victimized.

The Lord pulled out of Peter who groaned. Peter fell forward onto the bed, clutching the cloth that he had held onto while he was raped. Thoughts seemed jumbled to him. He had no strength to fight, or will to live. He wanted to die there on the bed so not to relive what had happened. 'The knife,' he remembered was on the table. 'If I could get to it I could, free Davy or take my life, or take the Lord's life.' Peter gathered his strength to make his move.