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Firebird

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The shock of having ice water over his body jerked Robin out of his unconsciousness. Disoriented, he sat up, only to nearly choke himself on the chain around his neck that bound him to the dirty cold wall of Nottingham’s dungeons.

“There, there, how nice of you to finally join us. What an honour to be in the company of the famous Robin Hood, outlaw and self-proclaimed protector of the people.”

The slimy, grating voice of the Sheriff of Nottingham penetrated Robin’s ears. He could recognize it anywhere. It blared through the streets on the daily, broadcast from the Towers of Justice erected throughout the city. The towers that bound any mage’s ability, that kept them docile, without means to rise up against the cruel laws aimed at them only. It severed their connection to Marion, the goddess beyond the veil who had given those of weak body magic so that they too, may make their mark on history.

“Or should I say… Robin of Loxley.”

Robin spat at him and it earned him a hard kick between the ribs. He coughed.

“You had everything you wanted… you were one of my best. Why did you not treasure the freedom I gave one such as you? Now look where it brought you… right back into my hands.”

The Sheriff came closer and Robin squeezed himself against the wall, trying to get away from those hands. Desperately, he tried to will the power into his mind, but it was no use. The seal protecting him from the towers’ influence had been burned out of his skin.

“Would it have been so bad?” The Sheriff whispered into Robin’s ear.

“To be my man? I would have treated you kindly.”

“Fuck you,” Robin hissed. “You know nothing of kindness.”

“Ah. Too bad, then. If you won’t have me, I’ll just have to take what I want.”

In vain, Robin struggled against the iron grip of the Sheriff’s hands as the man forced himself between his legs. His pants were torn at the crotch. The heavy manacles tore into his skin as he trashed in a desperate fight to avoid his fate.

“Stop!”

The Sheriff ignored his struggles and spat into his hand. He had taken his cock out, which hung heavily between his legs. It seemed Robin fighting him had given him an appetite as he was fully hard already. It was huge and Robin couldn’t help but whimper when it was pressed against his own cock. It was thick, thicker than his own forearm and longer still. With a few strokes, the Sheriff slicked himself, but Robin knew it wouldn’t be enough. That thing would tear him apart.

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” the Sheriff said, his eyes dark with lust. Robin took a deep breath as he felt the slick cockhead against his hole, but it was no use. The moment the Sheriff pushed inside him, it was as if all the air was punched out of his lungs. Robin screamed, his voice echoing through the dungeon.

“Remember, my sweet Robin, you brought this onto yourself.”

Robin bit down on his lips to suppress a whimper. The Sheriff felt huge inside him, Robin had never taken a cock so big.

“You could have had this so much better. I never would have hurt you. I would have taken all the time in the world to prepare you, to make you ready to receive me,” the Sheriff whispered into his ear before he bit down on the lobe, hard. Robin could feel his skin break and blood trickled down the side of his face and down his neck.

“Who of sound mind would ever fuck you of their own free will,” Robin spat out between clenched teeth. His toes curled as the Sheriff thrust deep inside him. His cock was so thick the length pressed against Robin’s prostate with never-ending pressure. To his shame, Robin was hard, his cock leaking pre-come that smeared all over his belly as he was folded in half by the large man over him.

With every slam of hips hips, the Sheriff seemed to drive deeper inside of him, reaching parts Robin didn’t even know he had. He sobbed as he felt something inside him give way as the Sheriff’s cock forced itself past his rectum.

“Would you look at that, I can already see myself inside you. How fascinating,” the Sheriff remarked and pressed down on Robin’s stomach.

Through the fog of tears streaming down his face, Robin could see a small bulge form whenever the Sheriff forced himself inside him.

“I must be halfway up your spine. This is why I love you, Robin. You are so strong. You can take anything I give you, can’t you?”

Robin was crying and trembling, his voice hoarse from screaming himself raw. Hiccups shook his body. All he could do was take it. His body had long betrayed him, his hips meeting the Sheriff when he fucked into him, letting him reach ever deeper inside him.

Robin sobbed in shame and pleasure when he came with this cock rearranging his insides. He clenched down so hard in his orgasm that he soon felt the Sheriff release inside him too. It was too much for his small body, filling up his belly so much it bulged out slightly before the sticky fluid trickled out of his hole when the Sheriff pulled back.

“Tell me, my dear Robin. Just tell me. Where are your Merry Men hiding? Lead me to them, and this can be over. We can forget all those things you have done. All those regrettable, regrettable things. I won’t ever let anyone speak badly about you, no matter what you are, my dear little Robin,” the Sheriff cooed and gently stroked Robin’s cheek. Robin tried to jerk away, but without his magic, he was no match for the raw and brutal strength of this man.

“I will never tell you anything,” Robin pressed out.

“You can kill me… but my men will carry on my legacy. Until the mages of Nottingham are free of your tyranny, until we can live free!”

“Oh, my dear Robin. Who said anything about killing you?” The sheriff tsked and grabbed hold of Robin’s chin.

“What a waste of a pretty face that would be. You claim to serve the people, shall we put that to the test? You enjoy taking from other and giving it to those that have done nothing to deserve it. Surely you will not mind if others take from you? Robin of Loxley, I sentence you to the stocks.”

Robin’s eyes went wide. He had seen that type of punishment carried out before. It was for those considered the absolute worst, less than human, less than dirt. Faced with it, most choose to hang instead.

His voice shook as fear seized his heart, but he would not beg this man. Let them break his body. They would never take his soul.

“Do your worst,” he whispered.

“It’s your big day, my dear Robin. Smile for the crowd.”

Robin only glared at the Sheriff who towered besides the stocks Robin had been locked into. The autumn air was cold on his naked skin and gave him goosebumps.

“Look at your hero, people of Nottingham! Nothing but a whore!”

The sheriff yanked Robin’s head up, a fist in his hair.

“His punishment will not end until he has had every men in this whole city!”

The cruel voice echoed over the plaza filled with people. Those who had come willingly to either gawk or take their pleasure. And those mages who felt for their fallen hero but had been forced out of their homes by the Sheriff’s men to witness his humiliation.

“And who knows. Maybe your Merry Men will come save you?” He added more quietly, so only Robin could hear him.

Robin prayed they would stay far away. With him no longer able to use magic as freely as before, now they truly stood no chance. It would be suicide.

The first men climbed the gallows and Robin tried to brace himself. There was nothing to make it easier but the spit of those who had given him that much relief at least before forcing their cocks inside him. His own ragged moans and cries filled the plaza, amplified by magic speakers in front of him so everyone could hear.

Robin was crying again now. Hot, ugly tears streamed down his face. This was worse than any other torture. Everyone could see him. Those who hated him and those who looked up to him. Those who needed him to be strong. But he couldn’t stay strong like this. It was too much.

Another cock was shoved into him. Robin couldn’t keep count any more of how many men had used him. Every single muscle in his body was burning and his insides were on fire. But they would not let him die. An enthralled med mage was healing him as they ravaged him, not enough to take the pain away, but enough so he would not die. So he would not be able to rest. They came inside him one after the other and he was dripping, unable to tell what was blood and what was seed. It barely made taking them inside him any easier.

“Robin,” a kind voice reached him through his daze of pain and pleasure.

“We’ve come for you.” Robin could not turn his head to look, but he recognized the man calling out to him. It was Little John, one of his fellow Merry Men.

“I’m sorry Robin, but this is the only way to get close enough to you,” he heard him whisper and moaned out when he felt John enter him. Nothing about him was actually little, and it hurt for a moment before he felt a wave of pleasure wash over him. The pain was taken away and Robin felt himself relax.

“How… can you cast here,” Robin muttered as he pushed his hips back, moaning quietly. John rocked into him.

“We figured out the seals. We can fight back! Here...”

Robin felt a flash of searing pain against his arm. Little John had grabbed it and burned a new seal into him, the kind he had before. The overwhelming feeling of having his connection to Marion back, to feel her presence inside his mind and John still thrusting into him made him come with a gasp. When John came inside him, it didn’t feel disgusting like with all those other men before. John was the most powerful white mage Robin had ever known, he could heal in all the ways others couldn’t. When his warmth filled him, Robin could feel strength returning to him, his broken body healed of all abuse given to him.

“Give them hell,” John whispered. And Robin did.

The gallows burned to ashes within moments of Robin’s magic returning to him. Blind rage filled him as he took his revenge. Men’s screams died in their throats as the flesh was burned off their bones and only ashes remained of them when he was done with them.

You,” Robin hissed and sent a whirl of fire hurling towards the Sheriff who had watched his humiliation from the Royal Stands. It didn’t faze him. No magic ever did. No mage himself but for some reason able to resist it, the Sheriff had used his gifts to oppress those who only wanted to be free, lest there was one among them who shared his hunger for power.

“My beautiful little Robin… my firebird… one day I will clip your wings forever,” the Sheriff promised with an ugly smile on his lips.

“Robin, we gotta go!”

But they would be back. Now that the seals protected them from the Towers’ influence, it was only a matter of time until Robin Hood and his outlaws would break the chains of the mages of Nottingham.

Soon, they would be free.