Across the dungeon floor, my companions are left, bleeding and unconscious. I hope unconscious, but my blurred vision tells me little about anything other than my immediate surroundings. And in it, men are shoving me roughly to the ground- did they not hear that I surrendered? The guild would pay the ransom fees- they always did. 

My cheek meets the hard stone floor, as my hands are wrenched away from my body and pinned. Without that leverage, I can't even raise my head to speak, my voice a muffled, "Pleaashh! I shurrender!! I-I'm not fighting back, y-you won!!"

"Really *is* a petite little cunt..." I hear the man looming over me say. His knee pressed hard against the small of my back. Enough to force a wheeze out of me, tears already brimming falling with my pained gasp. "Good voice too. Missed 'er calling."

I can no longer even beg, the pressure was too great. I can only focus on forcing air back into my lungs as-

My pants are torn down, threadbare from the fight, they give up the ghost as they are jerked to mid thigh. I freeze, shock icing me over, as the man behind me slaps my ass hard. 

"Fucking hell, that's a top notch ass!" He says, no regard to my fear, my trembling voice. As if they couldn't even hear me. Or they just didn't care. The pressure lets up, and I suck in a breath, shaky and increasingly hysteric.

"What are you- No no, you CAN'T!! Th-this is against the charter, its-" I stammer, half begging, half sobbing. A fist in my hair reduces all of those empty whimpers to a hissed whimper.

"Shoulda been a whore." The man kneeling in front of me said, looking over my face without looking at *me*. "Then at least you'd be gettin' paid for this. This is just the price of defeat, *sweetheart*."

I am stunned into silence, my face rigidly locked in a mask of tearful disbelief. He grabs my torn jacket and pulls it roughly, a brief tug of war between my hair and my clothing. In the end, the jacket lost, though my scalp throbbed. My breasts were freed to the cooling air, damp from the fight making it a shock of cold to my system. 

"Ah, not bad. Should get some rings for this bitch 'fore we ransom her off." He flicked my nipple, then dropped me to the ground. My eyes are wide, unseeing. No one is pinning me right now. I could *run*. I could make a break for it as they stripped their clothes-

Oh no.. no no *no no* ***no.*** They stripped to nothing, three men towering above me, the last shred of blissful denial I could grab to was shattered. 

Too late I rose, scrambling to my arms and legs, but my half undone pants tripped me up, slowed me down before-

"Oh, easy honey, no need to stand." The first rough voice, a calloused hand squeezing hard at the ass he spanked. He straddled me, shoving me back to the ground with a '*oof'*. He leaned over me, his thick body totally naked, scarred and sunworn skin pressing against my pale white flesh. His breath rolled over my ear, as vile as his words, "We'll come to *you.*"

Then I felt his cock press at my ass, and I screamed.

Exhausted and broken, defeat comes as a shock... But as soon as my clothes are torn and I'm pinned to the floor..? I begin to understand what 'Defeat' really entailed...