Robin's Revenge

As Robin peered through the shrouding beech tree's leaves, he felt very fortunate the windows of the manor house were thrown wide open.

It was warm enough that early autumn afternoon that a breeze would have been welcome to those inside, and the open windows of the upper story room made seeing into it vastly easier than if they had been shut, or only partially open.

Robin wasn't even sure what he would have done if the windows had been shuttered. Already he had glimpsed a naked pair of breasts flash past the window, then a man's stiff cock, legs bare but with his upper body still covered in a short red tunic. There were loud words, and sounds of a struggle.

"Give it!" The female voice was defiant. "Now, or there'll be trouble!"

"You're in no position to insist on anything! Tell me what I ask and you'll have it back, and be free to leave." The man's voice was loud and challenging.

"Never!"

Robin tensed, his legs gripping the tree branch that held him, as through the window he saw a bodice of brown colour held up by a pair of burly hands, not ten feet away. He knew that fabric well and his throat tightened.

"Where! Tell me where he'll be and when!" the male voice demanded.

Two thin fair hands grabbed at the bodice, and a swinging familiar pair of breasts followed, quite uncovered. A slender body with its triangle of light brown crotch hair lunged forward, but the male voice laughed and the bodice was snatched out of sight.

Robin struggled for a better view without losing his balance or exposing his position to those inside. From his vantage in the tree, looking slightly downwards into the chambers, he was unable to see the heads of the two occupants, only their torsos, and even then only briefly as they flashed in front of the open window. Scuffling sounds inside made Robin crane his neck, all senses alert.

"Now?" asked the large friend beside him, whose bulk of a body was perched, even more precariously than Robin's, next to him.

Robin shook his head. "Not yet!" he hissed.

Through the window opening the male's bare haunches were now visible, his cock stiff and bobbing, then disappeared in a darting move across the room.

Robin loosened his bow and drew an arrow from his quiver.

The man's rump reappeared, the full strong hairy haunches of a thick-waisted, middle-aged man of power. Robin knew the fellow fair enough. His lip curled.

This time the strong haunches were even closer to the window. A step back and the man could have rested his hairy rump on the window ledge.

The cock was raging hard, twitching in the scattered afternoon light. Its tip was a malignant red, poking free from its cockskin, damp and unsheathed. The ballocks were drawn up tight in full lust.

"Come get it!" The bodice was held up, in clear view. The man shook it tauntingly. "And then I'll have you! I'll fetch words out of you one way or another!" His cock bobbed stiffly with desire.

Robin sighted carefully and then let loose the shaft, the arrow striking the bodice squarely, snatching it from the man's startled hands, and pinning it to the wall opposite the window, the shaft vibrating from the impact.

A shout went up, followed by stunned silence. Two faces instantly appeared at the window, the male with wide eyes and open mouth, dark heavy eyebrows arched in surprise, the female's pale long face at first similarly alarmed, then graced with a wide smile of recognition.

"On John!" shouted Robin and the big man, who had crept out along the tree branch, leaped. With agility unexpected from a man of such size, he grasped the window ledge and pulled himself in.

The sheriff had dashed to the door, but Marian had been too quick for him, pulling the ring of keys free from the inner lock and tossing them out the window, where Robin caught them. With a quick jump Robin followed Little John through the window into the upper chambers of the manor house.

By the time Robin's feet hit the floor, Marian had already tackled the sheriff and John had overpowered him with a strong blow to the head. They quickly went to work tying the sheriff's hands and legs with the hempen rope that Little John had brought.

Robin in a glance marvelled at sweet Marian's willowy body. Her calfskin boots were still on but her green linen dress lay tossed to the side. It could not have come off willingly.

Her breasts darted about as she moved. Her long light brown hair, which had come loose, danced across her slender back, her hands flying to secure the sheriff's limbs.

Despite the danger of the situation, the sight of Marian's bare thighs and haunches moving with speed and purpose made Robin's cock twitch with pleasure.

Her long narrow breasts, with marvellous dark pointed nipples, her 'arrowheads' he called them, swayed like pendulums this way and that with the maiden's quick movements.

There was pounding on the chamber's door, and shouting, and they heard attempts to force it open. Robin looked out the window and to his relief saw William and Roger below, with a purloined ladder and three horses.

Down they went, Little John with the sheriff's limp body draped over his shoulder. They threw the body over the back of John's mount, quickly secured him with a length of rope, and dashed off through an open gate.

Robin grabbed the second horse and helped Marian up behind him. Somehow she had managed to pull on her dress and retrieve her bodice, which she was able to hurriedly fasten around her before they bolted from the manor house. Will and Roger followed on the third horse.

Nestled in the saddle behind Robin, her arms safely around him, they sped away. Robin could feel her soft warm breasts pressing against his back, moving up and down with the horse's gait.

Although none of them could ride as fast as they would have liked, Robin's men had seen fit to cast wide the doors of the manor's stable and scatter the sheriff's horses in panic to the adjoining fields. It would be some time before whatever was left of the sheriff's men could fashion a proper chase.

They crossed a small bridge over a stream and made north for the forest. Once clear of the main road, they were able to slow a bit.

Out of the corner of his eye, Robin saw Roger and Will staring at the sheriff tied to the back of John's horse. His leggings were gone, only a shirt on him, and as his hands and feet had been bound together under the horse, it meant his bare rump lay upwards, bouncing rudely with the horse's gait.

His ribs surely were taking a beating from the ride, but he had not yet opened his eyes or shown any sign of consciousness. Roger laughed and pointed for Will's benefit at the unceremonious look of the white, skyward-facing arse of the captured sheriff.

Robin also noted that Will and Roger had been stealing glimpses at Marian, which Robin found puzzling until later that afternoon, when he realised that his arrow had pierced Marian's bodice about the middle of where her left ribs would have been.

The hole made in the bodice was large enough that Marian's left breast kept pushing through the rend, and even though covered by the thin fabric of her dress, her breast's forward thrust and unexpected intrusion, jostling as they rode, made a sight for the men, who kept looking over and grinning slyly as they hurried along.

After some time they were within the safety of the greenwood, and zigzagged through narrow trails until they emerged into a wide sloping meadow, with a cluster of large oaks at its centre. It had been recently scythed, the hay stacked in large separated mounds.

The long, low green hills of southern Nottinghamshire were visible off in the distance. The sheriff had roused from his stupor and was awkwardly looking about, pain and fear showing on his face. He had tested the ropes holding him and found them too tight to loosen.

The group made their way towards the cluster of oaks and dismounted. Robin directed Little John, William and Roger to tie the sheriff to one of the larger oak trees, and gave him some water and cleansed his face, which had a large ugly looking bruise on his cheek.

The sheriff, spread-eagled against the old oak's trunk, glared defiantly at Robin, his broad features twisted in rage.

Roger smirked at the sight of the sheriff, with only a now dirty shirt covering him, his bare thighs shaking with anger.

"You'll pay for this!" the sheriff snarled. "You'll pay!"

Robin smiled grimly. He took a swig of water from his waterskin, and stood in front of the sheriff, hands on his hips.

He held his tall sinewy frame confidently, although he knew very well that without some good timing and luck, and some cunning work from his men, events might not have worked out as well as they had. But matters were more in his hands now. His tunic matched the colour of the oak tree's leaves, and he levelled an even gaze at the sheriff .

"And just what were your intentions with my Marian?" he challenged the sheriff, as his men assembled around him, Marian at his side.

"What did you have in mind for her? Taking her clothing? Locking her against her will in those chambers? Eh, what?"

Robin then conducted a trial, which did not last long. The facts came out, corroborated by Marian. She had been seized outside a shop in Nottingham and carted away to the manor house by the sheriff's men.

The sheriff had threatened her and wanted to know Robin's plans, for indeed they had hatched a plot for some mischief in town the Saturday next. Her clothing had been forcibly removed, and she had every fear of being violated by a powerful, vindictive and lust-driven man.

"And we saw you, Little John and I with our own eyes, with your hose off, your cock hard, and the maiden unclothed. I do not have to imagine much your intentions. You meant to have her!"

The sheriff did not answer.

"Men!" shouted Robin, his angular face stern, dark eyes blazing. "You have heard the evidence. Did this man not abduct a defenceless woman, hold her against her will, and intend to violate her honour?"

"He did!" they cried out.

"What shall we do?" said Robin evenly. "What shall be his fate?"

"Death!" shouted Roger, his face red. "Death to the evil henchman of the king!"

The men murmured their assent.

Robin shook his head.

"Grievous as his actions are, this is not a death offence, although the penalty tempts me much."

"Then a good whipping!" cried Roger, a bit less confidently. "We"ll remove his tunic, tie him face to the tree and make his back and arse red and sore enough for weeks!"

"Better," replied Robin, standing tall, his face hard but composed. "He is due a lingering punishment. One to match his crime. One he will not likely forget."

He looked long and hard at the sheriff, who glared back. The sheriff's face was misshapen with the bruise, and while his shirt was still on his upper body, dirty and stained as it was, his hose was gone, his lower body quite bare.

"Perhaps he should bear witness to the crime that he would have committed himself, only against his own," said Robin evenly, with a half smile. Both the men and the sheriff looked puzzled at Robin's words. Only Little John betrayed no confusion.

Robin turned to Marian. "Make his cock stiff," he said, then when Marian's face displayed bewilderment and revulsion, he added, "just with your hand. I have plans, please do as I ask."

Marian swallowed hard, and the men shifted uneasily in their green tunics and brown leggings as she made her way to the bound sheriff, whose own broad face ran through a range of expressions, ending with complete wide-eyed bafflement.

She held his balls in her left hand, his cock quite limp and small. Slowly, and with clear distaste, she began to pull on his cock, which responded with some delay to the contact. Before long however, Marian's fingers had made him hard, and his cock stood stiff and proud out in front of him, his red cockhead partially poking free from his cockskin.

She looked questioningly over to Robin, who gave a tight smile. "Well done," he muttered. "He will not soon forget this hardness."

Turning to the sheriff, "You meant to use this," Robin said, pointing to his stiff cock, bobbing with its recent rise. "You were to use this against someone who did not seek it, against her will! It is time to return the favour."

Robin carefully reached back into his quiver and drew an arrow. His men, watching intently, stiffened in expectation, of what they were not sure. Only John seemed at ease.

Robin turned to his left, pulling the string of his bow back gracefully, and sent the arrow clear across the field, squarely striking the trunk of an old oak tree at the edge of the meadow, which bordered the forest.

No sooner had the shaft stopped quivering, then a group of three men, apparently anticipating the signal, emerged from the coppice cover, leading a blindfolded woman, her hands bound behind her. Her long reddish blonde hair had come loose, and fell in an unkempt manner on her bare freckled shoulders.

As the group made their way across the field, the sheriff's face took on an increasingly anxious look.

"Mary!" he finally shouted as she neared. "You have taken Mary!" he turned to Robin, his face enraged. "She has done nothing! Let her go and do what you will with me!"

"We will see," smiled Robin.

Robin's three men were dressed as yeomen or townsmen and not in the forest green tunics of John, Will and Roger, which combined with their brown hose the men jestingly called "Robin's livery." They approached Robin, who ordered Mary's blind removed.

She and the sheriff exchanged anguished looks, for indeed it was the sheriff's wife. Mary's blue eyes noted the exposed stiff cock of her husband, and she turned questioningly to Robin. "What meanest thou by this outrage!" she hissed.

Robin replied by recounting the events that led to the sheriff's capture, dwelling in some detail on the sight that he and John had had of the sheriff's naked hard cock, and the disrobed Marian inside the manor house.

Mary turned to the sheriff, whose face betrayed the truth of the event.

"No," she moaned, "No, no, no..."

"He meant harm," said Robin evenly, "and driven by lust and anger would have taken this maiden, my woman, against her will," gesturing towards Marian.

Robin exchanged a look with Little John, who sidled up to the sheriff's side, and pulled out a long, gleaming knife, which he held against the root of the sheriff's bobbing cock.

"Shall we remove his stalk in front of you?" Robin asked Mary, eyebrows arching. "This would prevent a repeat of this crime ever happening again and surely be a fitting punishment."

"No, no!" screamed Mary. "Not that, not that! Leave him be!"

John had a half-smile, and he moved his knife menacingly about the sheriff's prick. The sheriff's body tightened, but there was no way to escape the blade. The threat was clear, and no one knew what might be next.

"You may save his worthless cock then," said Robin quietly, "if you agree to what I say."

Mary set her mouth firmly. "What do you wish?" she spat.

"Only to do to you, what he would have done to my Marian," Robin said, his hand indicating his consort beside him.

"No!" shouted the sheriff, his legs shaking in anger. "Do your worst to me but let her off!"

The husband and wife stared at each other, Mary trembling. Robin's men shifted their feet uneasily.

Finally, Little John began to slowly move the dagger in an arc around the sheriff's cock as if to slice it off, and then poked him in the navel with the point of its blade, drawing a drop of blood.

"Very well," Mary exhaled. "But he will live? Without further damage?" Her eyes were worried but still defiant. "We will be set free?"

"All but the last," said Robin, with a faint smile. "You will be intact, but I cannot quite set you free, at least immediately. Our own retreat from here must be made cleanly and safely. I will let certain persons know where you are, and you shall be safe by nightfall."

"No!" shouted the sheriff to Mary. "Do not acquiesce in this!"

Robin ignored him. "We shall have you," he stated, pointing a finger at Mary, "to save the cock of your husband and further pain to him. Once again, to make sure, this is your will?"

Mary hesitated but nodded.

"Say 'Yea' " urged Robin, "so all can hear your will."

"Yea," spoke Mary clearly.

Robin pulled off her dress, which she relinquished resignedly.

The men looked Mary over, not without hunger. She was of middling height, with thin curling red blonde hair resting on her shoulders. Her hips were broad, her waist not slender, and her breasts, while not of special heft, sloped off to each side appealingly, the left one a bit larger than the other, full and soft. Her nipples were small and pink.

She had marvellous smooth white skin, and it appeared she had not yet seen thirty winters. There were freckles on her face and shoulders, a bit on her upper chest, but the rest of her skin was pale and fresh and exceeding white. She was a rare commodity in the shire, as she did not have to work outside in the fields or in the sun, after all.

"I will have to restrain you," Robin said, "but will do so gently. We cannot afford to have you free if we are forced to fly suddenly."

He gestured for his men to tie Mary on her back to the fallen trunk of an oak tree a short distance from the sheriff, within clear sight of him. One of the men produced rope and stakes from a sack they had brought. Robin had placed her dress between her and the trunk, to soften the surface.

Her hands were tied out to each side, while the men drove in stakes to the ground to secure them. Her feet were similarly fastened, so that she was stretched out in four directions, her thighs spread wide, her ankles and wrists held tight by the rope and pulled taut.

Her head, unsupported, dangled over the edge of the tree log, in a manner that let her see the sheriff, albeit at an odd angle. Whoever mounted her would be able to gaze straight at the sheriff's face if he so wished.

Robin tested the tightness of the ropes and stood back to admire the sight. His men knew their rope-work well, and the even, neatly tied dark brown colour of the knots contrasted with Mary's fair skin.

Each of Mary's breasts was slung to the side, her thighs parted and under tension. Her cunt lips barely met each other with her legs pulled so, a crimson gash inside the lips visible in the late afternoon sunlight. Her thin cunt hair was redder than that of her head, and curled around the lips and onto her thighs. The men murmured and at least one of them grabbed his crotch.

Little John gave his knife to Will, who continued to hold it next to the sheriff's cock, and approached Mary, fondling her left breast, hefting it and tweaking the nipple until it was red and hard, then circled around and did the same for the other. He smiled and looked at Robin, who nodded.

John slowly and deliberately removed his shirt, his big shoulders and powerful torso a marvel to the men, all much smaller than he. He pulled off his hose, and his dark cock sprang free, bobbing and half hard.

As befit a man of his size, it was a prick of some heft, thick and handsome enough. Amongst the men, Will's cock was known to be almost as long, but not nearly of the same girth. On their gambols around Nottinghamshire, the men had come to know each other's stalks as well as their own, and all had made many a jest about their tools whilst taking one of their frequent piss breaks in Sherwood forest.

They held their breath as the great tool swung from side to side as he disrobed. His balls were two large ovals, well covered in dark hair, and had already begun to tighten in their sack.

Little John paused, and Robin and the men looked on, unsure of his his next move. He circled around to Mary's head, and draped his meat onto her, bouncing his cockhead over her face. Then using one hand he slid the heavy prick's underside back and forth over her cheeks and nose, before dangling his prickhead over her mouth.