sarakadarksoul

Edward Castle

2008-05-31T14:56:51Z

There was plenty that Edward Castle enjoyed doing in his life. He enjoyed reading. He enjoyed researching. He enjoyed organizing his class schedule. There was plenty that he enjoyed doing. The last thing on his list of enjoyments, though, was the grading of his students’ papers. Ten page essays from twenty students equaled a taxing endeavor that challenged both his patience and his leniency, as well as demanded a place where he could step away from reality and be unbothered by the normalcy of the college culture.

And this, of course, lead to the only edifice capable of meeting such a stringent stipulation: The Library. It seemed obvious, though only after Edward had spent forty-five minutes of searching for his soundproof refuge. He had searched from one side of the campus to the other, and only at the very end did he look up and see the grandiose structure staring him in the face from across the courtyard.

The interior of the library reflected its bland and fairly colorless exterior. Dark wood, huge rows of literature and an aura of silence and intolerance resonated from within. But most appealing to Edward was the fact that it seemed completely empty. Empty…and quiet.

With his jacket strung over the back of his chair, his tie loosened enough to allow him to breathe, and his mind focused on overcoming the task at hand, Edward dove into the stack of essays like Leonidas did the Persian army; with his pen acting as his sword, and his resolve acting as his two-hundred and ninety-nine brethren. He would not be undone.

Unfortunately, that tenacity only last for about two hours. At that point he realized that he had only graded four papers, and the weight of his task landed unceremoniously upon his shoulders. Frustrated and abused, Edward laid his head on the table in the crook of his arm, and cadged for the gods to strike him down and end his suffering.

“Mr. Castle?”

The voice startled him so severely that when he shot up from his light doze he nearly went completely backwards off his chair, the papers that surrounded him exploding into a balloon of flight around him. As the papers rained down, he stared at the owner of the voice.

Standing on the other side of the table was a mousy girl no older than twenty with chocolate brown hair pulled back into a tight bun and large rimmed glasses accentuating the size of her hazel eyes. Her dress was one step beyond common; fashioned from beige, white, and brown—the same shade as her hair. It concealed her from the top of her neck to the bottom of her toes.

“Annie?” He stammered. “Annie McBride?”

She gave him a soft smile and shied away for a moment. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Castle. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He laughed, though it was painfully forced. “Scare me? Of course not, Annie. I was just…uh…taking a break.”

The next smile was one of sympathy and understanding. “Of course, sir.”

Edward, collecting the blooming detonation of ungraded essays, glanced to the stack of books she was carrying. “It looks like someone is trying to catch up on their reading.”

“What? Oh, no sir. I work here. Well, part time, anyway. Between and after classes, or whenever Mrs. Gregory needs the help.”

“How responsible, Miss McBride. Most other students use the time between classes to venture into the realm of trouble and mischief. I’m glad to see one of my young scholars has learned the value of hard work.”

She beamed a smile at him. “I’m so very glad to hear that, sir. Are those the essays we were suppose to write over the weekend?”

“They are.”

“I’m so excited to see what you think of mine, Mr. Castle. I stayed up all night on Saturday revising it. I think you are going to like it a lot.”

Edward placed his lips to his fist and coughed; a nervous stalling tactic he devised in his youth to help him prepare for whatever uncomfortable information he had to relay. “I’m…I’m sorry, Annie, but I already graded yours. “

He could tell by the change of her encouraged expression that she understood the origin of his apology. He watched as her eyes fell to the floor, and she let out a long breath as though being deflated. “I see.”

He bit his lower lip, despising the fact that he had crushed her. It was highly inappropriate and unprofessional. The class wouldn’t get these papers back for at least another day, but now poor Annie had to come to class without even the slightest anticipation of hope. She would know that she failed, and would have to let that thought sit and stew until confirmed by the return of her essay. He watched her turn away without another word and shuffle off to disappear into the labyrinth of bookshelves.

Minutes went by and he watched the space between the two rows where she disappeared. He kept expecting her to reemerge, but she didn’t. Finally, when he could take it no longer, he jumped up and headed that way. He wasn’t really sure why, but there had to be another form of closure to the situation other than poor Annie McBride disappearing into the halls of the Library.

He found her between the two rows, high above the library floor. She was perched on a ladder more than seven feet off the ground, re-categorizing the books that she was carrying. One of her hands clutched the side of the ladder while the other worked frantically to replace the books. She looked awkward, and very frenzied.

He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, but only got a single word out. “Annie…”

It was now her turn to be startled, and with the violent jolt that followed, came the avalanche of books that she balanced between a random rung and her body. They crashed to the floor with a myriad of thuds, shattering the blanket of silence that covered the entire building.

“I am so sorry, Annie.” Edward said as he rushed to the pile, scooping them up in his arms. “Let me help you, please. It would be the least I could do.”

Annie had been paralyzed at the top of the ladder. Luckily she had caught herself, but that was it. The other hand covered her mouth, and she waited there as though the calamity might bring down the roof.

“Please.” He said again, reaching up high to offer her one of the books.

She watched him for a moment and then took the book. She looked around, from one side of the shelf rows to the other, and when neither a natural disaster occurred nor a pudge-faced constable was there to arrest her for such inappropriate noise, she turned back and looked to replace the book.

What Edward had not expected was the view he would receive from the bottom of the ladder. At this angle, and with her stretching to replace the book upon the shelf, he could see directly up her dress. So clear was his view that he could see the span of milky flesh above where her black stockings stopped, as well as the silky white underclothing that sheathed her womanly virtue. While his inner-gentleman wanted to tear his gaze away from the lustful peak-a-boo, the debauch voyeur who had recently usurped his conscious demanded that he keep looking.

The only time he turned away was when she looked back at him to take another book, and he kept his eyes away, that is, until she turned to put the book on the shelf. Again he let his eyes ascend the length of her skirt, soaking in the view of her legs as they traveled up to meet at the tight and tiny satin-covered junction. He could feel the throbbing in his loins, swelling and pulsating toward erection.

It only took a moment, and then his mind was consumed by the iron grip of decadence. “Tell me, Miss McBride, how much does a passing grade mean to you on the essay.”

She looked down, a quizzical gaze shimmering through her glasses. “Sir?”

“The essay, Miss McBride. To what lengths would you go to ensure a passing grade?”

She stammered momentarily, and then spurted out an uncomfortable laugh. “I’m…I’m not sure I understand what you are saying, sir.”

Boldly, Edward reached out and placed his hand on the back of her soft black ankle boot. Then, very slowly and looking her in the eye the entire time, he slid his hand upward, gathering the hem of the dress across his wrist. The touch of his fingers, the feel of his palm, came to a rest upon her stocking-clad calf. “Come now, Annie. You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

He watched her eyes shift from perplexed to comprehensive to surprised. She even made a soft squeaking sound as realization materialized with a shocking spurt. He kept his hand idle upon the back of her leg for only a moment, and then lifted it higher to caress the back of her knee.

“Mr…Mr. Castle.” She stammered, shivering softly.

The other hand moved up her dress, a paralleled motion to come to the back of the knee. Now, with both hands kneading each leg, he brought the dress up even higher. As every delicious inch of her legs came into view he could feel the pounding of his perverted conscious echo from his loin straight up into his ears. He throbbed within his trousers, so painfully that he occasionally cried out. The tops of her stockings, fastened to the silver hinges of her garters, were intricate lace – no doubt they were imported from France. He brushed his hands up the outside of her thighs, the tips of his fingers tracing the contours and outline of her legs. How much he loved the lower limbs of women. He reached up further, though, exposing her milky skin to the motionless air of the library so that he could hook his fingers into the band of her undergarment, and slowly drag them downward.

“Mr. Castle!” She cried. “I’m sorry…I can’t…”

He stopped her descent from the ladder by stepping forward, though allowed her to lower just enough so that her hips were level with his face. He tugged her panties, drawing them down inch by inch, though was foiled as she crossed her knees as best she could without falling from her perch.

“This is absolutely improper, Mr. Castle! You…aren’t you married, sir?” Her words laced her gasping breath as she squirmed to keep her underwear on.

“Annie,” He said, breaking away from his quest to remove her clothing to look her dead in the eye, his voice the epitome of seriousness. “One of two things is about to happen. One, you are going to get down off this ladder and scurry out of here so that you can come to class in a few days and get a failed essay, which will almost guarantee that you will fail my course. The other is you are going to comply. You are going to let me lift your dress and eat your pussy until I am ready to turn you over and fuck you. Then you are going to take my prick as though your tight little body was put on this earth to do nothing else, and you will do so until I spit cum up inside you. Afterwards you will get dressed and be about your way so that I may finish with the other essays…and so that I may reevaluate your essay to make sure I did not grade you too harshly. The only question now is which of these two happenings will you see through?”

Her young eyes shifted nervously, racing from his gaze to the end of the shelf row to the length of her still-exposed legs and back to his eyes. It was obvious to him that her mind was a hazy cloud of confusion and uncertainty, and that she was torn between moral purity and academic success.

But then her locked knees pulled apart, and he grinned. Down came her panties, carefully navigated out of her boots, and, clenched in his fist, tucked into his pocket. He then stepped forward, lifting her dress even higher so that he could see her newly uncovered womanhood.

A soft patch of brown curls lined the path to her pussy, which glistened between her thighs as she shifted upon the ladder. He could see her perfectly; her body at just the right angle. But more importantly, could smell her. The heady scent of her cunt filled his nostrils, igniting the simmering inferno of his lust. Leaning in, he buried his face between her thighs, reaching out with his tongue to flick her swollen clit before licking the front of her slit.

He felt her jolt and grinned into her pussy. With how tightly her thighs were clenched he could tell that her entire body was stiff. He slid his hand on the inside of her thigh and pushed it away from its mate, opening her up. She complied, spreading her thighs and offering herself to him. He tilted his head, opened his mouth, and went to work on her soft flesh. The tight slot of her mound was split by his tongue, and his lips roughly kissed her open, spreading her pink skin to be filled by his anxious tendril. He gripped her thighs, pressing his face between them, to brace her between he and the ladder as he devoured her. He could hear her pants and screams and cries. Her muscles faded, and soon she was more soft than stiff, rolling her hips against the invasion of his tongue. Back and forth, in and out, his tongue worked the slick flesh, fucking her smoothly.

Her first orgasm came in a burst that showered his unsuspecting tongue with a honeyed gush. He consumed her release with an enthused fervor, though pulled away from her just enough to sneak his hand in and push his finger deep inside. Her pussy folded inward, accepting his penetrating digit, and her body convulsed with the surprise visitor.

“Now, Miss McBride, I’m sure you can cum harder than that. I’m going to need a bit more effort.”

She started to answer, but he silenced her by yanking the implanted finger out of her. She gasped instead. He grinned and returned to his task, eating her juicy twat with a returned vigor. Again she became tense, rocking and undulating with the motion of his mouth. That wasn’t enough for him, though. He was certain that she could orgasm much harder than that, and was determined to make it happen. As he tongue-fucked her he slipped his hand around her legs to the crease of her ass and reached between to press the tip of his cum-soaked digit against the bud of her tiny asshole.

As he expected, she bucked against him. He held her tight, bracing her pelvic range against the masterful dance of his tongue. In and out of control she swayed, half pushing away and half pulling him into her. He grinned against her and pushed his tongue deep inside her pussy so that her mind would be elsewhere as he inserted his finger into her ass.

She cried out, and it was a cry based on pain. He didn’t care, though, rapidly boring her with his tongue as his finger buried clear to the third knuckle.

“Cum.” He growled against her flesh. “Explode.”

She did.

She screamed, braced against the ladder. Her pink flesh flexed against his tongue and her anus clenched his finger. Her body convulsed violently, and gush after gush of orgasmic fluid bathed his hungry lips. He demolished the wash, consuming every drop he could corral.

Her body slumped with exhaustion, and he held her against the ladder so she would not topple. He pulled away from her mound and stepped up onto the first rung. “Turn around.” He ordered. “Turn around and put both legs through the rung.”

She was fairly incoherent but did so, nodding as she spun around so that her back was too him. She stepped through the rung with her left leg, and then with her right, and sat down upon it.

He scooped her dress and drew it up, revealing the delicious swell of her ass now fully exposed by her sitting position. He climbed up another rung and then another, until finally he was even with her; his chest pressed against her back and his hips level with her bottom. With one hand holding him to the ladder he unbuttoned and tugged down the waist of his trousers to expose his hard and throbbing cock. It looked angry and hungry, as well as impatient. Taking it in his hand he dropped his hips to come from under her prone body, and when the head of his prick pressed against the slick hole of her pussy, he thrust upward. Hard.

She hugged the ladder, crushing her breasts against it, and strained out a breath as her body was split open by his ruthless spear. Sitting still, with her legs trapped inside the square of open space between the rungs, she was at his mercy.

She was at his mercy, and he knew it.

He pushed every last inch inside of her, and when the last breadth of his shaft was inserted he ground forward, just to make sure. She gave a high-pitched chirp, a sound caught somewhere between pain and pleasure, and clenched the ladder.

He growled against the back of her neck as her tight pussy stretched around his stalk, gripping the frame of the ladder to hold him still. Finally, the squeeze of her inner grip was released, her body expanding to compensate for his girth. She relaxed as much as she could, and they were one.

With a sloppy slide he began to withdraw from her, pulling back until only the tip remained, reveling in her gasps and groans. With only the head still embedded he paused, letting her stretched flesh reform to its normally tight size, and then slammed it all back inside of her again. She screamed, destroying the aura of tranquility that engulfed the library.

There was a small moment of panic with the volume at which she screamed, but that quickly subsided. When the huge doors to the library were opened they made a distinctive and horrendous shrill, and Edward was astute enough to know that they had not been opened for more than an hour. He and she were the only two inside the building, and he had no fear of anyone coming around the corner.

With this realization he started pounding away, driving hard up inside of her. She jolted and jarred against the ladder, whimpering with every harsh invasion. Her tight flesh split eagerly around the thrust of his cock, and the slick glove inside met his pumping organ with a clinging embrace. It was wet and tight and rough. One hand gripped the ladder and other gripped the back of her neck, bracing her for the onslaught of penetration that followed.

He felt her attempt to drive backwards—to meet his oncoming thrusts—and could appreciate the effort, but knew that it would be better for everyone if she stayed still so he could get his use from her. He liked the thought, the atmosphere, of having her sitting inside the rungs of the ladder so that her body naturally contorted in a way that made her easy to fuck. The smooth caress of her pussy along his vibrant and punishing tool combined with the feel of her soft and young flesh being pounded by the slap of his hips made his mind race and his body churn. It was close. He slid his arm down the frame of the ladder so that it rested just beside her head.

“When I cum, Annie, rather than scream I want you to bite my arm. Understand?”

She whimpered out a reply that sounded very much like confirmation, and Edward smiled.

The brutal rhythm continued; pumping her full of his cock over and over again, bouncing her between he and the ladder rungs. From tip to base, his shaft was honeyed with her glossy moisture, making the coarse ride that much easier.

His heart raced, his muscles tensed, and his body ignited into blissful release. He pushed in deep, crushing her between him and the rungs, and with a contained growl shot spurt after spurt of his salty seed into her. The explosive release caused a tempest reaction inside of him, consciousness fading as blood seemed to flow with turbulent speed—the ecstasy brought to a head by the feel of her teeth clamping down on the flesh of his arm and lacing the ultimate pleasure with slivers of pain.

In response, her tiny hole, stuffed full of his prick, launched into a spasmodic dance along his length and bathed him in a fresh pool of her own pleasure.

His chest spread and fell rapidly, breath trying to be corralled, and he held against her; still buried – still draining. She whimpered along his arm, her bite fading into a myriad of soft kisses.

He pressed his lips against the nape of her neck, easily exposed by the tight bun of her hair, and crushed a kiss against her flesh. “I do so enjoy students who chose to participate in additional endeavors to bring up their grades.”

She sighed and rested her head on his arm. “Thank you, sir.”

Edward Castle

2008-03-20T14:18:44Z

“…and that, class, is the significance behind the Trojan Horse. Any questions?” Edward asked, sitting slightly on the edge of his desk, eyes cast on the class of fourteen students before him.

The combination of looks that were returned ranged from comprehensive to confusion, to downright apathy. Edward had always found anything involving Odysseus utterly intriguing, but apparently his class didn’t share the same interest.

He drew his watch out, daring not tug too hard on the thin chain that connected it to his small coat, and checked the time. “Very good, ladies and gentlemen, please remember that there will be a test on this material next Thursday. A thorough review of the subject at home couldn’t hurt. You are all dismissed.” His dismissal, though, seemed like more of a formality, as a majority of the class had started churning for the exit the moment he checked the time.

He moved around his desk and sat, meeting the eyes of those departing and giving a generous nod. A huge stack of papers sat to his right –the expanded theory and dictation of Homer’s Iliad – and gave a soft sigh. He still had a ton of work to do. These papers would have been examined and graded a week ago had he not wasted his time riding upon the 7:10 trolley, hoping to chance into his ladybird.

He met the eyes of George Ellington, then, who happened to be a new student in his class, and his thoughts traveled elsewhere. The reminiscent image of the young man’s mother’s bare and creamy ass perched high in the air for his taking filled his mind. How smooth and juicy her pussy was, and how deep he was able to grind inside of it. Edward bit back a groan, and swiveled in his seat to keep his hardening prick from becoming trapped in his pant leg.

“Mr. Caslte?”

The soft voice of the girl startled him, and as though he was caught doing something extensively unsavory, Edward shot her large, panicked eyes.

Kelsey Arlington, and third year student and radiant debutante, stood across his desk, her small satchel of books resting upon it. She was a pretty girl; one who had been pretty all her life, with platinum blond hair that was as flat as Edward’s desktop, and glimmering blue eyes that sparkled like the English channel when hit by the early morning sun. Her dress was a raspberry sheath, princess cut, and shot with blue throughout. Its dipping neckline sank provocatively low, far beyond what most would consider modest for a girl her age.

“How can I help you, Kelsey?” He asked after wiping his hand over his face, like that could somehow make his corrupted thoughts vanish.

“I was wondering if perhaps you could, just so very quickly, explain to me once more how the Trojans used the horse…thingy.”

Edward chuckled and sat back in his chair. “Miss Arlington, don’t think for a moment that I didn’t see you and Leslie Morrow passing notes while I was going over the literature.”

Her face became as white as a ghost, and she stammered over her words. “Mr…Mr. Castle, no. We weren’t…um…she just wanted ….I swear I was paying attention.”

“Two things, Miss Arlington. One, if you were paying attention you wouldn’t be here asking for further explanation. Two, if you were paying attention you would know that the Trojans didn’t use the horse. The Greeks did.”

She blinked, and it was quite the sight. She slumped a bit and lowered her eyes shamefully. “I’m sorry, Mr. Castle. I…I’m just…sorry.”

“It’s your grades that will suffer, Miss Arlington. If you want to spend this period interacting socially, then so be it. However, if you do not know the material and suffer a failing grade, you will be ejected from the institute. You don’t want that, do you Miss Arlington?”

She shook her head, blonde waves crashing along her shoulders and neck.

“Do you still have the note you and Miss Morrow shared?”

“I do.”

“Show it to me.”

Suddenly her face became much panicked and her cheeks started to redden. Again she stammered. “I…You shouldn’t…I should just go…”

“Now, Miss Arlington. Now, or I’ll have you punished.”

She looked at the door as though she considered bolting, but understood the futility in such a move. She looked back, her pretty eyes pleading. “Mr. Castle—.”

“Now.” He said sternly.

She whimpered softly and pulled from her satchel a note that was hidden between two books. She gripped the note severely, looking at it as though she were trying to will it from existence. Finally, though, she lowered it to his desk and released it. Edward, in turn, took the folded parchment, unwrapped it, and read the simple conversation in side. He had seen enough of the girl’s penmanship to know which was which.

(Leslie)

Mr. Castle looks very nice in his striped suit today, wouldn’t you say?

(Kelsey)

Indeed, though he would look much nicer with my legs circling his hips.

(Leslie)

Oh! Kelsey Arlington! You are a fiend!

(Kelsey)

Hardly, Les. Fiendish would be admitting that I want to taste his cunt-rammer .

Edward stopped reading. He gave a slow exhale and sat back in his chair, once more rubbing his face. He wasn’t sure what he was more shocked by: the fact that Kelsey would write a letter so blazingly or the fact that his erection was so stiff it ached inside his pants. He looked up to Kelsey whose eyes were downcast and shamed.

“Do your parents know you talk as such?” He asked.

She didn’t look up, only shook her head.

“Go and shut my door, Miss Arlington. Shut my door, lock it, draw the drape, and come back.”

Now her eyes came up, and she obliged, closing the door, locking it, closing the drape, just as he had ordered. She came back to the desk, though moved around to his side with his urging.

Edward watched her the entire way, eyes fixed on the swell of her bottom as she walked, rolling against her soft dress with each step. It was marvelous. He motioned for her to come around to his side and, when she did, moved his chair back and turned it so that he faced her. “Miss Arlington, have you ever had a prick inside of you?”

She blushed feverishly and startled. “Mr. Castle!”

Edward shook his head. “Oh no, dear. You withdrew your right for propriety when you declared your desire to taste my…how did you put it…’cunt-rammer’. Answer the question.”

Her face was still red, and she scoffed as though she had a right. But then, Edward figured, she realized that she didn’t.

“I’m waiting.” Edward said with a tap of his foot.

“Alright, already. Yes I have.”

Edward watched her squirm in her clothes, and took swelling joy in it. “And did this prick orgasm inside of you?”

She was still red and swallowed hard. Then she shook her head. “No. I made him depart beforehand.”

“I see. And it was this prick that made you aware of how other prick’s would feel, thus opening you up to a conversation where you announce your need for your legs to be wrapped around my waist. Is this fair to say, Miss Arlington?”

She was having a hard time following, still shocked and now confused, she only nodded her head, and Edward could tell that the response was only because that is what she thought the right answer would be.

“Come closer.”

She nodded and did, now just a foot or closer to where he sat.

Sitting, Edward bent at the waist so that his hands could touch the floor, though arched his back in a way that his eyes could remain locked on hers. She trembled a bit, but remained still. He slid his hands under her clothes and slowly started to raise them up, the wreath of her skirt gathering around his wrists and lifting as well. Her ankles were exposed and then higher; her calves. His fingertips traveled along the outside of her supple limbs. Light blue stockings coated her legs, though disappeared into white pantaloons. Up he went still, grazing the outsides of her thighs, touching the satiny pantaloons until he came to the waist of them. He slipped his fingers inside, and brought them down.

“Mr. Castle…” Kelsey’s protested, though it was a breathy moan. She folded her arms over her chest and hugged herself, though swayed her hips as Edward’s hands descended to help with the removal of her underwear.

He brought them all the way down, and one by one, slipped them under her feet and tossed them to the side. “Now,” he said as he sat back in his chair and began to unfasten his pants. “Turn around and lift your dress up.”

He watched her as she continued to tremble, turning slowly until her back faced him. His hard cock flopped out of his trousers and it was like he could finally breathe again. In just freeing the stiff prick he was able to relieve some of the ache that swelled inside. Taking it in hand, he watched her as she lifted the skirt. More and more of her legs became visible –the light blue stockings held in place by black velvet garters that tied at the back in perfect little bows—and then he could see her rear-end. The creamy flesh of her buttocks was deliciously plump, and he couldn’t help but reach out and take a handful. He squeezed and fondled the flesh for a moment, drawing yips from her. He took the other cheek in his free hand and gave another squeeze, drawing her cheeks apart so he could view her tiny little anus. And tiny it was; the tight portal barely visible along the valley in between.

“Now, Miss Arlington, sit on my lap.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, astonished – at first by his request, but ultimately by the stout spear that extended from his hips. The head was thick and pulsating, and the shaft jerked periodically with tension and anxiety. “I…I…”

“Now, Miss Arlington.”

She turned back and waited for a moment. Edward figured she was gathering herself. Finally she bent at the waist, pushing her naked ass toward him, and lowered down to sit upon his lap.

Edward was careful, though, maneuvering his cock so that when she sat it knifed between her thighs, and, while it nuzzled up against her creamy slit and throbbing clitoris, it didn’t penetrate. She was the perfect height so that the span of her throat was even with his mouth. He leaned in and offered a trail of light kisses along her flesh, to which she gave a pleading moan. His arms encircled her waist, and his hands rested upon her thighs, kneading her flesh and drawing her against him as his hips started to rock.

“Oh yes, Mr. Castle.” She moaned, her head falling back to give him more of her neck. “I knew you would feel this good.”

The grip of her thighs around his cock and the motion of his hips was doing a phenomenal job at simulating actual coitus, and he could feel the stirring inside. He nipped at her flesh, nibbling, as he stroked her legs. “I’m going to come all over your thighs, Miss Arlington, and you are to spend the rest of your day with my spent seed under your clothes.”

She was bouncing atop him now, and even though she wasn’t being impaled, the glide of his stiff rammer along her aching pussy was enough to send jolts of pleasure coursing through her. “Yes…” she whispered.

He moved one hand up her thighs to where his cock was cradled against her mound and, with two fingers, managed the puffy lips apart so that he could slide along the pink flesh just inside. She moaned and undulated against him, turning her head so that she could kiss him.

And kiss her he did. Edward devoured her mouth with a burning passion, extending his tongue to taste hers, his other hand coming up to squeeze her breasts through her clothes. She arched and moaned as though she were about to explode, but kept pace with her grinding.

“I can’t…” she whispered as she broke the kiss.

“You can.” He retored.

“No…you don’t understand….I can’t…”She moaned. “I can’t go without…”

Edward didn’t really understand what she meant, but it only took a moment for her to explain. After grinding down she pulled up, but did so so severely that the cock came completely free of the trap between her thighs, and, with nature, drew back toward Edward’s stomach. That is when she came crashing down, splitting her flesh open with his cock and driving it so deep inside her that she had to cover her mouth with her own hand to muffle the scream.

Edward, too, growled out a moan as he felt the length of his throbbing muscle soaked by the velvet caress of her young pussy. She was so tight, yet so welcoming. He was buried inside her to the root.

“Miss Arlington.” He managed. “I said you…”

“Please, Mr. Castle.” She begged as she turned her head to feather kisses against his chin and throat. “Fuck me. Fuck me like the dirty little whore you think of me.”

Edward held completely still, letting his cock settle in the well of her chasm. She was the one that started the motion, rolling her hips so that the satin glide of her delicious flesh stroked him. He wanted to refuse her and push her away, expel her from his sight and his class. But the feel of her tight little hole with him plunged inside made him weak; completely so. He slid his hands down her legs to her knees once more, though this time pulled them apart, so much so that she now straddled his lap.

She quivered with the opening, the motion stretching her already tight mound around his heavy shaft, but complied. She kissed his mouth hungrily. “Fuck me hard, Mr. Castle. I can take it. I’m a big girl.”

He brought one hand up to rest on her hip and the other up to rub her clit in methodical circles, and it began. Rocking her on his lap he started fucking her, and she was more than willing. He crushed the length of his prick up in her over and over again, and each time he could swear that he was pushing the boundary of her pussy back deeper and deeper.

“Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes.” She moaned. “Now…now…” and she kissed his mouth hard, his cock becoming bathed in the sweet caress of her orgasm.

He fucked right through it, jolting her with a constant rhythm, and kissing her. Their tongues battled as he split her open, lancing her with a constant brutality that made her come again. The string of orgasms was so intense that she became a bit delirious, promising to pass out if he didn’t finish soon.

“Please, Mr. Castle, “ she begged, bouncing quickly on his heavy cock. “Push all of your come inside me. Shoot it so deep that I can taste it. Please!”

The raging motion of his hips finally came to an end with a colossal thrust that crammed him completely inside of her, the head of his punishing prick erupting into gushing streams of thick sperm. In the midst of his orgasm came another one of hers as she sat down hard, grinding him into her tight little body.

It was explosive, and drained the strength from both of them.

She fell back against him, and he, in turn, fell back against the chair, cock still sheathed inside of her.

They remained that way for a long time, minutes in fact, until finally he put his hand on the small of her back and pushed her forward, slipping his cock free.

She stood, though on shaky legs, and her dress carelessly fell down around her. Still panting, she turned to look at him, and found the glistening length of his yielding prick. She licked her lips and started to lower when Edward raised a finger and stopped her.

“Miss Arlington, you are late for your next class. Perhaps next time.”

Proxy

2008-03-20T12:05:43Z

The next few days were a blur. Edward had a hard time getting the image of the young and beautiful prostitute out of his head. Most ladybirds were of a more unsavory sort, with gnarled hair and missing teeth, obliging any passersby with the spread of their legs just to earn enough shillings to get through the night. This one, though; this one was different. She was a celestial beauty who could have been mistaken for a mistress or governess. The look in her eyes, the bright color of her dress, the way she walked and carried herself, it was all more accustom to an elite debutante than a lowly street walker.

After a long day in the classroom— which was nothing more than him teaching the intricate lines of history while helplessly trying to ignore his own debauch fantasies – he rushed home to his wife and carried her to the bedroom. He fucked her twice, all the while thinking of the beautiful ladybird. It didn’t work, relieving his fantasy only momentarily, and by nightfall he was miserable again. There was just something about the green eyes of the prostitute that gripped him. It was something dangerous. The days that followed seemed endless, though every morning was welcomed, as he rushed to the train station in hopes of meeting her again, though he never did.

That Friday he found himself in a rather peculiar situation, and one that he didn’t exactly care for. With the St. Andrews Institute being a prestigious school that only a select few could enter, there were often times when the school rejected some of those who applied. Because of the limited space and offered classes, not every student that wanted to attend could, and when a student was denied they were often sent a letter explaining the reasons why, along with a short and common apology. Unless, of course, that student’s family was held in high regard. In those special cases a proxy was sent by the institute to speak with the family one-on-one, to show that, while their son or daughter may have been declined, they still value them as a name and a family.

And that was how Edward Castle’s Friday began.

He sat in the huge parlor of the Ellington estate, surrounded by the gaudy décor of those consumed by luxury. They had no carpet, but instead smooth stone floors that were covered in the thickest of Persian rugs. Flowery patterns of all different types covered everything, from the furniture to the walls to the tablecloths and piano covers –not to mention that every end table, coffee table, and table in between, was ornamented with some fixture of sterling silver or glimmering platinum.

He sat in a single chair and sipped at the hot tea Mrs. Ellington had made, looking over the rim of his cup at her shocked eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Castle, I don’t think I heard you right.”

He swallowed and licked his lips. “Oh, my apologies. I said that George was not accepted into the—.”

“No!” She yelped. “I heard that part, Mr. Castle, which, I am assuming, means that I didn’t hear you right. “

This was the awkward part of the situation that Edward simply abhorred. The Ellington’s were a premier family with a horde of the Queen’s gold, but, for what ever reason, the school had decline their application, and now it was his job to uphold that. “I’m sorry, Mrs. I wish there was something—.”

Again she interrupted him. “I don’t understand. George is a smart boy with a bright future and a family that can pay whatever tuition St. Andrews demands. I just don’t understand why he would be refused!”

Edward took another sip and glanced to Mr. Ellington, who sat in the far chair. The positioning of the furniture made a neat little U, with a chair on each side and a couch in the middle. Mrs. Ellington sat on the couch.

Mr. Ellington sipped at his tea as well. He was middle-aged and wore a dark suite, his black hair was starting to thin at the crown so severely that combing over the oiled strands of what was left wasn’t helping any longer. Perhaps the most interesting accessory that Mr. Ellington wore was a dark pair of spectacles, the lens as dark as night, which had no other purpose then to hide the aimless wander of his blind eyes.

“Mrs. Ellington, if we are being truthful then we both know that George’s academic scores, while above average, do not translate into the standard achievements indicative of St. Andrews premium requisites. St. Andrews is an institute founded on the ability to prepare young men and women for the elite education of renowned colleges. In order to do this we must be very selective in who we admit and who we refuse.” He offered a sympathetic smile. “And in this instance, above average is below standard.”

She sat there, befuddled. She was a pretty woman by common value; with short and curly brown hair that matched her chocolate eyes, and a hand-span waist that accentuated the size of her fairly ample bosom. She wore a burgundy colored dress that lacked the foliage of petticoats beneath, which in turn, hugged her in just the right way to be enthralling, though obviously she was trying to show some modesty due to the fact that even though it was short sleeved, she wore long gloves that covered the majority of her arms. Edward, if asked, would have labeled her as ‘petite’.

Edward met her eyes with a smile, and took yet another sip of the tea.

“Mr. Castle, just so I have all the right information, because you are the proxy of the St. Andrews institute, you have the authority to overturn letters of denial, correct?”

Edward gave a derisive little chuckle. “Actually, Mrs. Ellington, I do – though I will tell you, overturning the ruling of the board is few and far between.”

She offered a smile; a decisive and methodical smile. “Of course it is. Do you like music, Mr. Castle?”

The question seemed to come out of no where and caught him off guard. “Um, actually…I do..” he stammered.

She smiled again and stood, a simple turn with two steps taking her to her husband. “Mr. Ellington does so love Liza Lehmann.”

Edward nodded. “In the Persian Garden is one of my favorites.”

“Excellent.” She bent at the waist and kissed her husband softly on the cheek, obviously catching the blind man off guard. She left her cheek there momentarily so he could return the affection, and then strode away.

Edward sat there. With his tea completely gone he had little to do to pass the time, and with the refusal of the Ellington son, Edward was at a bit of a loss regarding casual conversation. He had done this plenty of times before, and most of the time the parents of the denied student were astonished and staggered all at once. Mr. Ellington, though, appeared neither. It would have been so much easier, Edward surmised, to read the man if he were able to see his eyes.

The crackle of the speaker tube coming to life was heard, and then moments later the sounds of violins filled the parlor thanks to the stationary phonograph that was tucked into a nearby corner. Edward hadn’t even seen it, but now, as the beautiful melody of the instrumentals filled the room, he couldn’t help but take notice. It was delightful, save maybe for the loudness. He had never heard a song played at such volume.

And he also saw Mrs. Ellington.

She strode toward him with a purpose, her brown eyes trained upon him. He gave a perplexed smile, glancing from her to Mr. Ellington – whose head was swaying gently in rhythm with the song – and then back again.

She stopped at the side of his chair and offered to take his empty tea cup, turning and placing it on the nearby coffee table without taking a single step away from him. She turned back and bent at the waist, one delicate hand coming to rest on the arm of his chair while the other came to rest on the back. She whispered to him, her mouth close enough so that he could feel the heat of her breath on his ear. “Mr. Castle, I’m not sure you understand the lengths at which I am ready to travel to ensure my son’s future.” She reached forward with her tongue, sliding it along the rim of his ear before plucking at the lobe gently.

Edward shivered; his eyes fading closed. Arousal shot through him with volcanic intensity, and prickles of goose bumps emerged everywhere. “Mrs. Ellingtong…” he said weakly. But before he could get anything else out he felt her small and tender hand land upon the crotch of his pants, kneading curious along the material until it found the stiff length of his prick.

“Mmmm,” she moaned. “There you are. It seems that you are interested in the offer, Mr. Castle, but you had better be quick. The song will last for only another eight minutes, and then Mr. Elllington’s hearing will return.”

A startled gasp passed his lips as she moved away, her releasing of his erection causing his blood to boil with anxiety. He hadn’t even realized how hard he was gripping the arms of the chair until he looked down and saw the whites of his knuckles. He took a deep breath, glancing to Mr. Ellington – who continued with his melodic swaying – and then back to Mrs. Ellington.

She stood beside the couch with her back to him, drawing the hem of her skirt up. Small slippers covered her feet, and her legs were coated in the silken caress of pearl-colored stockings.

The sight of the stockings made Edward think of the ladybird who had met him on the train several mornings before, and again his cock swelled with arousal.

Her garters were heart shaped and stopped just above the knee, where the creamy span of her thighs and backside were seen next. She pulled the skirt all the way up, and when it reached her waist she bent over the arm of the couch so that it would stay bunched at her midsection, her ass high in the air.

Edward gave that awkward swallow and pulled at the collar of his suit. He really hadn’t been expecting this, and to be offered such gratification twice in one week was odd in itself. She drew him from his thoughts by waving her hand, and then raised her fingers and mouthed the words ‘ seven minutes.’

He glanced to Mr. Ellington who continued to be oblivious, and then back to her. He really shouldn’t, it was again moral propriety, but she looked so tantalizing there, bent over the couch, beckoning him to debase her. He wasn’t the type to normally take advantage of such an opportunity, but…

Before he knew what he was doing he was heading that way, hands working frantically to undo his trousers.

While he approached she slid one of the long gloves down her arm and when he came up behind her she stood, the skirts staying in place due to being pinned between her and the couch-arm. He was behind her, and before he knew it, her mouth was against his, kissing him gently. She then pulled away, breaking the kiss but leaving their mouths together.

“I tend to scream.” She whispered against his lips. She then turned away and placed the center of the glove in her mouth, wrapping the length from each side around her head so they collected in the back, and then bent down again to give him her rear.

His swollen cock was free and exposed to the air. He placed his hands on the rump of her ass and arched his hips, sliding the head of his shaft along the entry of her pussy. She was already wet, and undulated back against him, causing the tip to split through the puffy lips to stroke just beyond. He gripped her bottom sternly, holding her in place, and again stroked her nether lips with his cock. He placed his foot between hers and gave a light kick to each ankle, and she accommodated by spreading her legs further for him. She was wide enough, now, and with a strong forward thrust he speared her slick gates and rammed deep up inside of her.

Instantly she lost all strength in her shoulders and arms, leaving her head to hit the cushions of the couch. She whimpered, though it went unheard thanks to the glove that was in her mouth.

He watched her for a moment as he let her flesh stretch around his girth, laying before him, offering her body to him in exchange for admittance into the institute. He hand never been given such an offer before, and found that he liked the power of it.

He reached down and took hold of the lengths of the glove, and, like a set of reins, pulled her head back off the couch. It wasn’t gentle or slow, even from the start. A strong, rhythmic pounding is what invaded her pussy, stretching and splitting her flesh with every unforgiving thrust. The slap of his hips against her ass, his grunts, and her cries – all of it was drowned out by the strident vocals of the woman singing on the phonograph.

He crushed her against the arm of the couch, driving deep inside of her. She tried to fight, but with the angle he held her head at she had little leverage; essentially his ragdoll to do with as he pleased. He kept the sleeve in his fist, her head pulled back enough to bow her back, holding her fast against the onslaught of his strong hips.

In the midst of the savage coitus Edward glanced to Mr. Ellington. To Edward’s disbelief, the man sat in his armchair, half-smile upon his lips, really enjoying the melody. His black glasses weren’t even facing them; instead turned in some oblivious stare across the length of the room, completely unmindful of the rough fucking his wife was getting.

And that made Edward’s cock pulsate even stronger.

Her tight hole was slick enough to make the splitting of her flesh absolutely gratifying, and the grip of her hungry folds along his penetrating shaft could be felt in his bones.

With his free hand he reached down between her legs and took the inside of her thigh in his palm. He then lifted her leg so that it bent at the knee, and propped it up on the arm of the couch, spreading her mound even tighter. She bucked back against him and tried to lower the leg, but he met her with a sharp slap across the ass, to which she responded with compliance. The leg stayed.

He drove to the very root of his cock, each brutal thrust lancing her petite little body and wrenching it back and forth against the furniture. He could feel the stir of his arousal beginning to swell in his loins, and knew the time was here.

He yanked back on the sleeve, the torque awkward and painful, and shot spurting jets of his come deep inside her. Her body stiffened and her velvety folds clenched along his releasing length, milking him inside of her.

And, abruptly, the music ended.

Edward stood in shock, frozen with fear as reality settled back in, and still buried deep inside Mrs. Ellington. He bit his lip to contain the rapid panting that tried to escape his mouth. There was no escape, he realized, and there was no way that Mr. Ellington couldn’t know.

“A lovely arrangement.” Mr. Ellington suddenly said, clapping his hands together, unaware.

Mrs. Ellington took advantage of the applauds; drawing her hips forward so that Edward’s fading length slipped free. She stood tall, letting her dress fall down across her legs, not even bothering to address the creamy sperm that had started to leak from her pussy lips.

Astonished, Edward watched her. She moved around the couch and tenderly sat, looking up at him. Her cheeks were red with the tension from the sleeve, and her lips were swollen as well, though she forced out a smile. “Now, Mr. Castle, perhaps that lovely arrangement—as my husband called it –was enough to change your mind in regards to George’s eligibility.”

Heart pounding, trembling, blood rushing and his breath finally settling, Edward took one step back and sat in his chair. He swallowed and looked at the delicate mistress of the house. “Perhaps it was.”

Edward Castle

2008-03-16T13:32:19Z

The 32 car was Edward’s favorite. He wasn’t sure why, but is just was. Of all the cars on the train it was probably the oldest, and while it wasn’t in terrible condition, it was not nearly as prestigious as some of the other, newer models. The six-foot-by-eight-foot cabin was decorated with only two cherry oak benches that ran the length of the room, a high shelf over the window to secure one’s effects, and a picture of an elder dandy upon the butterscotch wall paper. Even the carpet was worn down so much that one could feel the solid hardwood beneath. It didn’t matter, though. Not to Edward. He just gave a savoring sigh, and sat down.

The wait wasn’t long, and soon the train was rocking into motion. His day would surely be a long one. It was already 7:14 and he had to make a stop along the way. He was certain he wouldn’t make it to St. Andrews until at least 9:00, if that soon.

It wasn’t all bad, he thought as he looked out the window to those left behind at the station. It was a bitter London morning filled with chilly air and smoke, and those having to wait for the 7:40 trolley were getting a firsthand lesson on the understanding and acceptance of misery.

No sooner had the train started off, he was yanked away from his thoughts at a sudden scuffle outside the door. It was still open and he could hear the commotion in the hall. He started to stand, but at that point he saw the source of the ruckus pass by. The hall attendant, who also served as the ticket counter, had a young woman in his arms. He was an older gent whose wrinkled face was becoming red clear past the hairline with the strain of having to fight her. His large hands, which looked funny at the end of his scrawny arms, were like vice grips around her wrists, and they wrestled past.

“Sir!” Edward shouted as he leaned forward. “Sir!”

The suddenness of his voice brought the elder man to a halt, and ceased the fight inside the girl as well.

Edward was startled by the resounding intensity inside the girl’s large green eyes. They were doe-like in their shape and innocents, though some how, within their depths, he saw the razor edge of wit and guile.

“What is the meaning of this?” Edward asked as he shifted his eyes to the attendant, keeping his voice even.

“She’s got no ticket, sir, and we don’t take kindly to stowaways!” Even though he spoke to Edward, he emphasized his point by giving the girl a shake.

“I see, and what do you intend to do with her now that you’ve caught her?”

“As we do with all the riffraff and vagabonds, toss’em out!”

Edward’s blink was almost audible. “You intend to throw her from the train?”

“Indeed!”

“But…but she may die, sir.”

The old man leaned only his head forward in the fashion of a chicken and squinted his old eyes at Edward. “Then I won’t have to worry about seeing her again, will I?”

Edward stood, slouching a bit at the shoulders to keep from hitting his head on the ceiling, and plunged his hand into his pocket. He withdrew his pocketbook. “No need today, sir. I’ll purchase her ticket.”

Both the attendant and the girl looked at him a bit befuddled, and he looked back with an arched brow, certain he said that in English. “How much?”

The attendant gave the girl one last shake before releasing her. Edward paid the price of the ticket –which he was sure the attendant doubled so he could pocket the difference – and then returned to his seat on the bench. Once the elder gent had his money, he departed toward the back end of the car, but not before giving the girl one last fiery look.

Soon it was just them; him on the bench and her in the doorway.

“Thank you kindly, Mr…?” Her voice was soft, though in it held a slightly husky allure.

“Castle.” He said with a smile and a nod. “No need to thank me, miss. Any respectable man would have done the same. I’m sure you can find a car up front. Have a good morning.”

She leaned backwards to look out the door, and the motion strained her pert bosom against the tightly fitted bodice of her emerald and black gown. Edward watched the tight material stretch beneath the swell of her bosom, so intense was the pressure that the indentions of her taut little nipples could be seen. He took a sharp breath, and looked to the floor.

“I don’t think so, Mr. Edwards. It looks as though the rest of the car is full. I may have to stay here with you.”

He swallowed, and it felt like a rock. “Well, miss, that wouldn’t be proper.”

“But necessary.” She almost whispered as she slid the door closed behind her.

It only took a step and a half to get to the bench across from him. He pulled his legs as far back as possible to avoid contact with the flow of her skirts, but the cabin was just too small, and the satiny fabric brushed across his legs. She lowered down, keeping her knees together and her elbows tight to her side, her eyes still on him.

“I suppose that will be fine considering the briefness of the ride.”

There was a long moment of pause, an entire minute or two without words to be exact, and Edward took this time to stare out the window. He could feel the swell of arousal starting to course through him, having not been in such a limited proximity to a woman other than his wife in a very long time, and he was worried that the light material of his checkered suit might not be able to hide the swell of his manhood if ignited. He kept his focus outside the window, until he saw her move.

“Well, it looks like I am in your dept, Mr. Castle.” She said as she slid the small bonnet from her head to reveal the tight bun of her auburn hair, which remained that way only long enough for her to remove the set of pins that held it there. Once they were gone, the bouncing waves of autumn tendrils cascaded down to enshroud her slender shoulders. “And I do so hate to be indebted.”

Edward opened his mouth to refute, but his words were halted as she lifted her legs – her tiny black ankle boots sliding out from beneath the hem of the skirt—and rested her feet on either side of his knees, perching them on his bench.

“Ma….miss?” Again he swallowed that rock of awkwardness.

“Mr. Castle, I’m going to ask that for the duration of our time together you hush up, and simply enjoy the ride.”

He was certain she had Satan locked in her green eyes. With her devilish gaze trained upon him, she gathered her skirt in only her fingertips and slowly started to walk it up the length of her legs. The hem slipped over the laces of the boots and slowly up the calves, revealing the smooth span of black stockings that encased the slender limbs. Soon it was over the knee, and then up the thigh, traveling past the frilly little garters that wreathed the tops of her leggings.

Edward wanted to protest, he wanted to deny her the reaction she must have been looking for. Sadly, though he couldn’t. Every time he opened his mouth to refuse her, more and more of her beautiful legs would appear, keeping him silent.

She bunched the skirts at her waist and at the same time let her legs fall open, offering the weakest of moans as her mound became exposed.

Edward mimicked her moan, his gaze mesmerized by the sight of her womanly chamber. The red hairs that cloaked it were short and light, unable to hide neither the bulb-like shape nor the creamy center slit that was already glistening. He was lightly trembling; the anxiety of the situation starting to course through his veins and muscles.

“Do you like it?” She whispered, bringing her feet, which were still propped on his bench, in to press against his knees. “Do you?”

He parted his lips again, but when he looked up and found her eyes, all he could do was shudder with excitement. He was panting, and finding it hard to breathe. He lowered his eyes once more to soak in the view of her delicious pussy. It was young and beautiful, and seemed to beg to be touched. He wiped his mouth with his hand, and gathered just enough courage to speak. “I’m…I’m married.”

Her taunting lips pulled into a smirk as she dropped her slender hand down between her thighs, lightly stroking those soft red curls. “Really, Mr. Castle? And does Mrs. Castle let you watch while she pleasures herself?”

Her words became an ethereal echo, drowned out by his hypnotic obsession with her fingers’ work across her vagina. He watched as two digits rolled over the folded flesh, sliding in circles – some big, some small – and parted the puffy gates to expose the pink flesh within.

He brought his hand across his forehead, wiping the thin layer of sweat that had formed with his accelerated apprehension. His cock, now rock hard, shifted in his pants with an uncomfortable persistence, unable to fully extend due to the heavy material. Finally, it was too unbearable, and he plunged his hand in to adjust.

She moaned loudly as she watched his hand disappear inside his pants, and without hesitation pushed both of her exploring fingers into the open arch of her mound. The folds were easily penetrated, and in seconds she was impaled up to the last knuckle. “Let me see it…” she whispered.

Edward was certain he should have been repulsed or insulted or…something. Instead, as he took hold of his stout shaft while watching her drive her fingers inside of her, he felt nothing but the purest exhilaration. The hot and throbbing length felt soothed in his grasp, and the sight of her plunging her own digits inside her pussy only accentuated the feeling. It took a minute for her words to register, but when they did, like a puppet, he drew it out with a simple flip of the fasten that held his pants closed.

When his stiff prick emerged he again heard her moan, though this time he watched her heavy lids close around her beautiful green eyes, leaving only a small slit for her to see through. She rolled her hips against the invasion of her fingers, which, by the way, was becoming faster and faster. With each withdraw Edward could see that the length of her fingers was coated with the glaze of her sweet inner chamber.

He stroked his cock, though it was slow and awkward. Again he felt that nervousness consume him, and even though a small part of him wanted to stop this madness and put away his manhood, he couldn’t deny the wonderment of how it felt. She closed her boots on his knees once more, and with his free hand he reached out to stroke her calf. Her young, toned leg was delightful to touch, and the soft silk of her stocking made it that much better.

The more he stroked, the more vigorous her fingers became. She shuddered and shivered, some times bringing her thighs together to trap her hand inside of her, and other times spreading them wide enough to add a third finger if she so desired. Her head lolled back and forth, though she kept the heavy-lidded gaze transfixed upon his hard member.

The longer he watched her, the more of his inhibition faded away. He gripped his shaft firmly and subconsciously began a more methodical stroke; one with a purpose. Up and down, his clenched fist moved the skin, as though a tight sheath, it stroked with an unyielding endurance. He even found himself moaning softly, half from the sensation of his public masturbation, and half from watching her writhe on the bench just a foot or so from him.

Her moans became cries that had to be muffled by biting down on her free hand. She pushed the fingers in as far as they could go and grinded her hips against the steady incursion, convulsing in the throes of ecstasy. This was the only time her eyes had actually closed, and once her trip over the edge of release had ended, she again looked at him. With a sated and lackadaisical motion she again started to finger herself, though this time no where near as concentrated; merely something to do. “Tell me, Mr. Castle, when it is your turn.”

It was close. The absurdity of the situation started to fill his mind, but more so, all he could think about was how her body would feel pressed against his as she came. How her tight little hole must clench around the cock rammed up inside of her while she bathes it with her sticky honey. How her small hands must scratch the back and her young mouth must beg for it to end and…and…“N…now.”

With a quick and graceful speed she leaned forward, sliding her feet down to the floor so her legs could fold beneath her and she could sit between his parted knees. The sudden motion froze him in his tracks; his determination detoured by his confusion. Without warning or request, she leaned forward and swallowed the head of his cock, her small hand taking hold of his to continue the masturbation. The recess of her mouth was hot and tight, very much like a cunt, and she worked it with great skill, pushing the head into the back of her throat as her tongue massaged it along the way, sucking and slurping with a ravaging hunger.

He put one hand on her head to push her away, but when she started sucking him off, he lost all strength. That same hand entwined in her hair and rode atop the motion of her bobbing head as she consumed him. He didn’t lie, though, it was now. Just moments after she started he began to shake and shudder, the throbbing length of his sucked-on shaft pulsating to life. Spurt after spurt shot up into the girl’s throat, and like a starved woman she tirelessly devoured it all. Not a single drop got free, and she milked him to make sure she didn’t miss the slightest one.

When he was completely drained she backed off of him, but only far enough so she could bathe his head with her tongue. The swirling tendril slid over the plum-shaped tip, collecting all the residual sperm that may have gathered there with his exit.

Once complete, she pulled away and stood.

Edward just sat there, trying hard to collect his breathe. He glanced out the window and saw that they were at the south-end station, where he needed to be departing. “Oh..no.”

“What is it?”

Quickly he jumped up, his flaccid manhood bouncing with the sudden motion. He tucked it away and refastened his pants, yanking his briefcase from the shelf. “I…this is where I need…I have to go.”

Her laugh was musical, which startled him. “I understand, Mr. Castle. It was a pleasure to meet you. “

“And…you…” It was odd, there was no doubt. He turned and headed out the door.

“Mr. Caslte?” She called for him.

Even though he was late as it was, he couldn’t help but poke his head back in.

“If you would ever like to meet me further, I stay at Madam Winterhaven’s. You know, just north of Clarendon Square.”

“Madam Winterhaven’s?” he asked as though the name held some meaning or familiarity. Then, like a brick, it hit him. “You’re….you’re a…”
“Prostitute?” She laughed, and then nodded. “You wouldn’t expect decent women to swallow your cum on the first meeting, would you Mr. Castle?”

He blinked, and then again, as though frozen.

“Mr. Castle?”

“I have to…go.” And that was the last words he said to her, turning and rushing off the train just moments before it rattled off.

Edward Castle

2008-03-13T12:42:45Z

( I know it has been a while since I have been able to write but thought I would share a series that I have been thinking about. I have been reading a lot of Victorian Era stuff lately and thought I would focus around that time. The next set of short stories will be about a Victorian man named Edward Castle who is a history teacher at a private prep school in London. The era is roughly between 1878-1895. Hope you enjoy!)

If there was one thing that Edward Castle loved, it was fucking his wife. He wasn’t sure if it was the delicious swell of her breasts, or maybe the alluring hump of her ass, or maybe even the warm and moist recess of her mouth. He wasn’t sure why he loved to fuck her, but he did.

He pondered this as he laid there beside her, watching her sleep. She had her back to him, and the covers had fallen just enough to expose her taut bottom to the touch of his fingertips. He slid them smoothly down her spine, causing her to shift and shudder in her slumber. She was marvelous to behold, and while he didn’t know why he had been blessed with such an ethereal beauty as his bride, he dared not to question it.

After a moment of exploring her with his fingers he brought them to his mouth so that he could lick them plenty and coat them with a thin layer of saliva. Once complete, he returned them to the swell of her rear; though this time low enough to push them between her thighs. Obediently she spread them apart, rolling to lay more on her stomach, her ass perched slightly up. He could feel the warm slit of her mound beneath his investigative digits, the touch of the silken gates stirring his erection, and gently eased the lips apart to expose the pink interior. Again she squirmed, though instead of rolling away, she undulated in a way the displayed her desire to be penetrated.

Edward smiled. Not only did he love to fuck this celestial woman, but in return, she loved to be fucked by him. Once again, he dared not question the powers that be.

With two fingers pushed together, he slid them deep inside her, causing her to catch her breath in her throat and whimper as her tight flesh was stretched around the sudden and intense infiltration. She raked the sheets and clenched the pillow, though stayed her hips to accept the breach. He drove them clear to the last knuckle, the glaze of his spit slickening her already damp chamber, and held them there, deep inside of her.

It didn’t take long for her to adjust to the incursion. Rapid and frantic breathing soon settled into something a bit more fluid, and that is when he started to pump his fingers in and out. He could feel every inch of her clenching walls as he withdrew, her body naturally trying to seal off the chasm, and then pushed them open again with a strong thrust. She moaned against the pillow, using it to muffle the more audible screams as he fucked her with his fingers.

He was rock hard and let her know, rolling into her enough so that length of his stiff prick nuzzled into the crease of her ass. She pushed back against him, surging against his impaling fingers to simulate the motion of coition. He could feel the tight bud of her anus beneath the glide of his cock, which made the pulsating member throb even harder. He had been with only a few women but had read much of the underground pornography and knew that having a woman that would let him fuck her up the ass was a rarity. She was just such a woman.

“Eddie.” She moaned softly. “I can’t take it anymore. You must fuck me, Eddie, and you must do it now.”

“In your ass?” He asked, fingers still in perfect rhythm.

“Edward Castle,” she scorned, though within a breathless pant. “It is far too early for you to be so debauch. Fuck me in my cunt and do it quickly.”

It was a valiant effort, but alas, he would have to settle for the euphoria of her vagina.

He rolled on to her so he straddled the backs of her thighs, keeping his legs spread enough so that there was some movement to get her legs apart. She pushed her ass up in the air enough so that he had an angle to enter her, and rolled her hips as though teasing his massive cock with her sultry glove.

He gave her ass a stinging slap, and then another and each one made her cry out. He then took his cock in hand and pushed the head against her hungry pussy-lips. He felt the warm engulf as he slipped past the opening, the slick entry welcoming him in. She buried her face in the pillow, and though muffled, he could still hear her cries. He rested one hand on the bed for balance and the other against her ass because he liked the feel, and with a single thrust drove completely into her.

He never let her settle, never let her get comfortable. From the get-go he started fucking her and fucking her deep. The entire bed squawked as his strong motion back and forth caused the frame to sway. He didn’t care, though. All he cared about was fucking that wondrous cunt. She was still slick from his fingers, and that made the slamming drive that much easier.

“Oh god yes, Edward! Fuck me like that! So deep and hard! Let me have it, Eddie!”

Her words fueled him onward, and he could not help himself. He slapped her ass again as he plowed her, though the spanking was being drowned out by the slap of his hips against her ass.

She pried her hand between her stomach and the bed so that she could reach between her legs, and took of hold of his swinging scrotum. She massaged his balls with every thrust, and the delightful kneading only caused him to ram her harder.

Her moans and pants made a steady song, but when they reached their crescendo she flooded his pumping shaft with a glaze of orgasmic release. He fucked right on through it, not letting her catch her breath or her thoughts. She stroked his sack harder and harder, matching the intensity of his pounding hips.

When he came, he did so on the end of a fierce forward strike that crushed the head of his cock against her cervix. Jets of hot, salty sperm shot into her with a thunderous and pulsating spurt. She shuddered with each new gush, and pushed back against him to ensure that he didn’t slip out.

When drained, he pulled out of her with a sloppy sound and fell beside her on the bed, panting. He was trying to catch his breath and having a hard time at it.

She rolled over and for a moment put her head on his shoulder before sliding down his stomach. Her blonde hair was as soft as a dream, and against his skin he was certain he knew what heaven felt like. She rested on his stomach and he felt her tongue as she started to lick as his fading length. She swirled her tongue around his cock, sucking their mingled juices from it. It was a methodical and patient torment, with the thought of her consumption of his cock filling him with anxiety. She only tortured him a little while longer, and then, without warning, swallowed his flaccid cock. She sucked on it like a babe does a tit, drawing the tangy cream from its entirety. He rested his hand on the top of her fair hair and laid back, drifting off with his cock in her mouth.

Rule of the New King

2008-02-21T17:02:01Z

The sheets that covered the monstrous four-post bed glimmered within the light of the dim candles, making the normal radiant scarlet hue seem like a more blood-colored cast. The dark chamber perpetuated a calling of pain and perversity, and the dancing silhouettes of the candles merely accentuated the warped aura.

Domiano sat in the high-backed chair directly in front of the bed, the steeple of his fingers resting beneath his chin as his eyes –emotionless pools of liquid obsidian—regarded the four who knelt before him. His warrior’s physique was garbed only in a deep blue robe that folded down the middle of his body low enough to reveal the thick muscle of his chest.

At his feet, between him and the bed, were the four girls. All of them were naked except for their stockings, and knelt upon the floor in a line. Their eyes were locked on him, as he commanded, and each quivered with varying levels of fear.

Talonina’s auburn hair descended around her shoulders, sweeping down to bathe her bare breasts, veiling her large pink nipples. Her legs were sheathed in white silk that were held in place by frilly garters. Her green eyes were steady as they watched the new king. Her fear was no where near the capacity of the others, but perhaps that was because she was growing accustom to the twisted Domiano. She still dreaded whatever game he wanted to play, but no longer considered each new trial one of life or death. Then again, she thought, maybe underestimating him wasn’t the smartest of ideas.

Lucillia was next, the farmer’s youngest daughter. She too was naked, the uncomfortable expose causing her entire form to randomly shudder and shift. Her dark hair flowed in a straight sheath down her back, tucked behind her ears. Her nipples were darker than Talonina’s, and the areolas were a bit larger. Her slender legs were coated in light blue stockings, and held in place by dark blue satin ribbons that left a trail behind the knot. Her eyes, hazel wells, showed the most fear and were constantly saturated with tears.

Her sister, and the farmer’s eldest daughter, Mariana, was on the other side of Talonina. Her black hair was the same color as her sister’s, though instead of a smooth shaft of soft tresses, hers was bouncy and alive. The curly coat floated around her pretty face and swept down over her shoulders. She had dark nipples with large areolas like her sister, and Domiano recalled that their mother did as well – a delicate legacy. Soft lavender stockings encased her knelt limbs, tight garters wreathing her thighs to hold them. Her chocolate gaze was reserved, a sign of strength, though every once in a while the fear came through and they quickly moistened.

“And you?” Domiano asked as he turned to the fourth, the Duke’s daughter. “What is your name?”

“Porcia de Tron.” She proudly responded, though quickly realized how futile it was to celebrate one’s nobility when imprisoned inside this dungeon. She swallowed hard and sat back onto her heels, the swell of her youthful bottom resting upon her black stocking-clad feet. Her blonde ringlets swayed and shifted with each move, though never lingered across her ample bosom, nor her small, mauve nipples, for more than a moment.

His eyes moved over them, one by one he studied each and every detail. He met each set of eyes and for a brief moment engaged them in a returned stare. The discomfort that each girl revealed caused his flaccid tool to pulsate and swell; its girth enough to shift the draped robe that covered him.

He slid his hand down, parting the folded center of the robe, and pulled it away to unveil the stirring serpent that lie beneath.

Each girl could not help but cast a glance, and as the awakening rod came into view, breath caught in the throats of each of them. Talonina was the first to return her gaze to his, more accustom to his tool, though the others just stared at it as it stiffened and grew.

The flesh of his cock seemed darker than the rest of him, enlarging from a patch of small black curls. As it grew, the stout rod became riddled with veins –the thickest one riding beneath the length of the shaft – and the plum-shaped head became swollen and angry. Finally, when fully erect, the cock appeared as a hilt or handhold that extended off his hips. In his sitting position its length extended upward, reaching far past his navel.

“Today, my little nymphs, we shall see a performance. I value good entertainment and long to see a quality show. As I am sure you do.” He watched each of them. By speaking he was able to draw their eyes back to his, though Lucillia and Porcia could not help but continuously glance down toward his manhood. “Our stage performers will be Porcia and Talonina. The two of you will make your way to the bed and, upon my command, pleasure one another. While this is occurs, Mariana will ride me as I watch.”

Porcia started to part her lips, but seemed unsure if she was allowed to speak. Domiano noticed this, and motioned for her to commence.

“My king, how am I to…” she glanced to Talonina for a long moment, and then looked back to him. “Pleasure her?”

Domiano smirked. “I am sure you are creative enough to figure it out. Luckily Talonina is rather inventive in this regard, and I am certain she will guide you flawlessly.”

Lucillia had the same look, and Domiano motioned for her to speak. “My king, what am I to do?”

His dark eyes flickered as he watched her, and that passing smirk turned into a truly wicked grin. “Well, because we are so concerned about your virginity, little hole, your job will be to clean my cum from your sisters cunt once I’ve had my use of it. Understand?” he noted the startled quiver in her eyes, and as expected, she nodded nervously.

He looked from one to the next until all were observed. “Well then, if there are no more questions, make your way to the bed.” He then glanced to Mariana. “You come here.”

All of the girls sprung into motion, Talonina and Porcia quickly standing and heading for the bed as Mariana moved to the king in only a few steps. Lucillia, a bit confused, stayed on her knees and crawled to the side of Domiano’s chair so she could wait.

Domiano stared into Mariana’s eyes, watching as that reserved strength diminished more and more the closer she came, until finally she stood before him with nothing but terror in her gaze. He reached out with his calloused hand, so used to gripping a sword hilt, and roughly took hold of her breast. He heard her whimper and watched her bite her lip to keep from doing so again. His strong fingers kneaded the plump flesh, rolling the caress from the base of the bosom to the very tip where her dark nipple was trapped between his forefinger and thumb. He pinched it until she squirmed, enjoying the sight of her muscles flexing and tensing as she forced herself to stay still.

Behind her, Talonina and Porcia climbed onto the bed, each one crawling toward its center. Talonina could see that Porcia looked both nervous and confused, and quietly whispered. “It will be softer then when he fucks you. You would do well to enjoy it, for it may be the only pleasure you find here.”

The unexpected words yanked Porcia from her private thoughts, and that confusion was turned to Talonina. “Wha…what?”

“Silence!” Domiano roared. To emphasize his point, he reached up and took Mariana by the hair only to jerk her down across his lap. She yelped with the pain, though that was nothing compared to the cries that rang out as he harshly spanked her backside. “There…shall…be…no…talking!”

“I’m sorry, my king!” Talonina begged, as did Porcia.

His anger subsided as he watched Mariana’s smooth, pale flesh redden beneath his slaps. His blood began to storm inside his veins. With the last slap he left his hand resting upon her ass, and then slowly dipped it between the cheeks so that length of his fingers could stroke the tender slit of her pussy. “Begin.” He commanded as his eyes took focus on the bed.

Talonina did not wait. She knew that Porica would be hesitant enough for the both of them, and didn’t want Mariana to suffer anymore on their account. She crawled quickly to where Porcia knelt, and before there was any protest, encircled her with a hug. She moaned softly as their breasts crushed together, and as Porica gasped at the touch, swayed forward to press their lips together.

Domiano watched them kiss; Porcia’s hesitancy ignored due to Talonina’s eagerness. A soft growl rumble past his lips as his fingers played along Mariana’s pussy, using just enough pressure to part her moistening slit. He heard her moan against him, and felt her hips start to undulate and shift across hi lap. She may have hated him, but she couldn’t ignore the betrayal of her body at his touch. “Lucillia,” he said, though never took his eyes from the bed. “Soak her with your tongue so that I may fuck her more easily.”

Lucillia gave a vapid blink, as though the words he spoke were in a foreign language. She dithered for a moment, though realized how lucky she was that the king hadn’t seen her. She leaned forward, swallowing away the discomfort at the thought of what she was about to do, and lead her mouth between the legs of her sister.

Porcia had never kissed another woman, and the touch of Talonina’s lips was like the caress of rose petals. The scared recoil of her mouth quickly faded, and soon she felt Talonina’s tongue gliding along her own. She moaned inside the kiss and slid her arms around her waist, not only crushing their breasts together, but grinding their hips as well. Talonina responded by sliding her hands down the length of Porica until they cupped her delicate bottom, and pulled her into the undulation. When the kiss broke, Porcia whimpered in protest and tried to catch Talonina’s mouth again. Talonina, though, was too fast, and dropped the touch of her lips out of Porcia’s reach. Porcia’s protest came to a quick end as she felt those same wondrous lips entrap her nipple. The sensitive nub was nibbled gently between Talonina’s teeth, and then sucked into her mouth along with some of the ample flesh. Porcia slid her hand into the soft auburn locks hair, and dropped her head back to purr and moan.

Domiano watched the two, the muscles of his chest and back straining with the growing desire. Mariana’s shudder upon his lap drew his eyes downward, and the sight caused even more of a stir. Of Lucillia’s face, all he could see was from the bridge of her nose up. The rest was buried between her sister’s thighs and ass. The motion of her head combined with the quiver of Mariana’s body told him that she was devouring the pussy well.

He could wait no longer.

He placed his palm on Lucillia’s forehead and shoved her backwards, sending her to the floor. The sudden departure of the penetrating tongue made Mariana yelp, which only expanded as Domiano flipped her around like a doll so that she straddled his lap, though faced the bed. Mariana could feel the length of his colossal erection nuzzle along the crease of her ass, and shuddered at the feel of its powerful heat.

“Take it,” he commanded. “Hard.”

Mariana could not swallow the lump in her throat, and her breasts began to heave with apprehension as she lifted up off of his lap and reached between her thighs to take hold of his erection. The girth of his shaft filled her hand completely, and the heat that radiated from it almost scorched her flesh. She gave a ragged little exhale as she pulled it forward, centering the spade-shaped head against her soaked slit, and then finally swallowed the breath as she dropped down, impaling herself upon him.

Her scream was loud enough to pull Porica from the bliss of Talonina’s mouth. She could see Mariana upon the lap of the king, bouncing harshly upon his thick cock; its glistening length seen briefly with each withdraw.

Talonina felt Porica stiffen and knew she was no longer occupied. She slid around Porica quickly so that she was behind her, and so that Domiano could get a full view of the new girl. One hand slid around her torso and cupped her breast, the slender, womanly fingers splaying across the tit so that the small nipple could be caught between her digits. The other hand came around her waist and dropped between Porcia’s legs. Their entry was quick, dipping between her thighs and pushing up inside of her pussy with one smooth motion.

Porica nearly collapsed upon the bed with the penetration, her hands instinctively dropped to try and force Talonina out of her. The soothing pump of those fingers were able to halt her disapproval, and soon she found herself spreading her thighs even more as she rolled her hips down to gyrate against the fingers that fucked her.

Domiano sat back and let Mariana work over his furious cock, watching the two on the bed. The feel of her tight pussy gliding up and down the length of his shaft caused growls to rumble from deep in his chest, and he fought with every ounce of strength he had to keep from pushing her down onto the floor and punishing her with his insertion. No, he would let her bring him to orgasm. He gripped the arm of the chair and continued to watch, doing nothing.

Mariana screamed with every new plunge. The length of his cock was monstrous, and her rapid descending was brutal upon her. She wanted it done as quickly as possible, though, and forced herself to bounce hungrily atop him. Her sister had done a good job in saturating her, the tight chamber of her pussy soaking wet, and it made the glide of his crushing penetration a bit easier. She braced against his knees, using them for both balance and leverage, as she impaled herself.

The length of his shaft pulsated with closing release. The throbbing tension pulled tighter and tighter through his loins with every stroke of his thick hilt, and his eyes started to fade in and out of consciousness. That blissful cliff of climax was closing in quickly, soon to hurl him over its explosive edge.

As he watched – and as his cock was ridden—he reached over to where Lucillia knelt beside his chair and ran his fingers through her hair until his palm rested against the back of her head. He felt her tense, the strength of her fear travelling through his hand. He began to stroke her silken tresses in hopes of soothing her, and while it may have a little, for the most part she remained terrified.

Porcia moaned against the kneading hands of Talonina, pressing her breast against the fingers that tortured her nipple while grinding against those long and slender digits that fucked her. She couldn’t help but fall into the seductive rhythm, no matter how hard she had tried to fight at the sessions start. She even slid her own hand around to the junction of Talonina’s thighs so that she could tease and play with the soft auburn curls that were the path to her sacred chamber.

The sight overwhelmed him, and his orgasm rampaged forward. He clenched his hand in Lucillia’s hair, causing her to cry out in pain, and at the same time shoved Mariana clear of him so that she crashed onto the floor. His erect rod glistened in the candle light, but only for a moment, before it disappeared into the recesses of Lucillia’s mouth. Her scream had left her lips parted wide, and his strength was too much for her resist. Before she even knew what had happened she found his thick cock buried in her mouth, fucking her throat.

Luckily for her it didn’t take long, only a matter of seconds really, before the confines of her throat were flooded with his salty seed. She gasped and gagged a bit as she tried to pull away, but he held her there to be flooded by his sperm, his fierce moan accentuating the iron-like grip he had on the back of her head.

When the last of his cum drained into her he released her, letting her fall back onto her bottom with her hands catching her from landing on her back.

He glanced at her and gave a devious smile as he noted the drops of pearly seed that lined her mouth. He then shifted his gaze to Mariana, who lay awkwardly on the floor in front of him, looking back over her shoulder at him through a haze of dark, curly hair. He moved past her, dropping a hand to pet her head, as he made his way for the bed.

“I change my mind, little hole. You shall not eat my cum from your sister. Instead, it shall be from one of these whores.”

Rule of the New King

2008-02-17T01:12:29Z

Domiano sat at the end of the elongated dinning room table, comfortably reclined in the otherwise unforgiving, high-backed chair – one leg even draped over the arm. His dark eyes watched the man across from him, the narrowed pools of angry black able to penetrate the victim’s weaker stare, and idly stroked his chin.

The man across from him, Manius, was not accustom to dealing with men as hard as the conqueror of Burthian, and when the new king’s obsidian stare locked onto him, he could do little more than shrink away to watch the plate of food before him.

“Did you not understand?” Domiano asked.

Manius looked up, once again finding the scorching stare, and gave a hard swallow. “I do, your highness.”

“Good. After exploring the depths of paperwork involved with your duchy it is rather evident that the majority of your revenue problems stem from the fact that you have been too lenient with your taxes.” The grin that splayed across the devilishly handsome visage of the King was bright. “But that will all come to an end today.”

Again Manius swallowed hard, and nodded.

Domianos sat back, pleased to be able to retain the duke. He found throughout his numerous conquests that if the landlords remained the same then the residents were less likely to revolt against a new regime. While he was the overlord of Burthian, the surrounding cities and townships would be easier to control if the lords who they had followed thus far remained. He was drawn out of his private thoughts by the shuffle of movement from the side.

She was about as old as Talonina, at least in appearance, with a sweet, heart shaped face that was shrouded by ringlets of silken blond hair. Her almond shaped eyes were swirling pools of icy blue, and held within them a soothing look of compliance. Her nose was small and pert, centering her apple cheeks, which all framed her pouty crimson lips. A wondrous dress of forest green and silver clung tightly to her upper torso, cupping the swell of her developed bosom, while the bottom flared out a bit to sheath her legs. She balanced a sterling tray upon her palms, which supported an open bottle of wine and two glasses.

Domiano watched her for a moment, and then turned back to the Duke. “Precise timing.”

Manius gave a sharp, nervous, laugh. “I thought that our agreement should be celebrated with a toast.”

Domiano leaned forward, those dark eyes again boring into his counterpart’s gaze. “And when you say agreement what you really mean is my decision not to kill you, correct?”

Manius swallowed stones and then started to speak. His words, though, were drowned out by the sound of the bottle and glasses shattering as they hit the smooth marble floor. Both men turned their gaze up to the gorgeous girl who stood over the puddle of wine and broken glass. Her pretty face was blanched with fear, and her frosty eyes darted between the two of them.

Domiano turned back to Manius, unable to hide his wicked smile. “That was a very expensive bottle of wine, Duke.”

Manius’ nervous gaze shifted from the new king to his daughter. He snarled at her. “Clean it up!”

Domiano watched as instantly the girl darted away, her only response a slight nod in her father’s direction. She returned quickly with a wad of towels in one hand, and a small bucket of water in the other. Her face was still pale with panic, and her breath was quick and shallow.

Domiano watched her with sinister amusement. As he shifted between her and her father, he was certain that her folly had violated the instructions he had given her before this meeting, which were probably along the lines of ‘don’t mess up or show this monster weaknesses. While Manius did look angered, Domiano could tell the difference between raw fury, and rage that was driven by fear.

“She is a bit clums—.” Manius started to say, before Domiano silenced him with an outstretched hand.

“Let’s go ahead and make this a bit more interesting, shall we?” Domiano asked rhetorically as he lifted from his seat and started across the room for her, his stride resembling the grace of a stalking wolf.

He reached her just as she was placing the bucket onto the floor. She had bent at the waist to do so, which gave Domiano the perfect greeting. When he reached her he grabbed onto her hips and yanked her back so that the ripe swell of her bottom – still veiled by her gown – crashed into his hips. He heard her gasp when she shot up, the terror in her eyes easily seen as she looked over her shoulder.

That look alone was enough to stir his brutal arousal.

She tried to pull away but Domiano held her tight by the hips, the swell between his legs grinding into her rear. “That bottle of wine was rather pricey, little one.”

“I’m sure my father can pay for it.” Her words were whispered.

“Perhaps, though your father is not the one who broke it.”

She continued to look at him over her shoulder, her breath catching more and more with his persistent toiling. “And what would you have of me, my king?”

The fear and weakness that flowed through her tone caused the pulsating shaft within his breeches to ignite into full erection. He leaned in so that the touch of his lips could graze her pretty face, and growled against her flesh. “On your knees.”

Her icy blue eyes widened and she looked away, staring straight ahead. Her back was so tense that it shuddered with a painful strain. Her swallow was audible – a family trait – and very slowly she lowered down onto her knees.

“Very good.” Domiano said. “Now you will take that towel and mop the floor with it, cleaning the glass and the wine completely. Once you have completed the task, you will take the bucket to the table and place it in front of my seat.”

“A gracious punishment, your highness.” Manius said.

“That is not the punishment, Duke.” Domiano lowered down to his knees behind the girl, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder and pushing her forward. He felt her tense along the hips, his iron-like finger tips kneading her delicate flesh through her skirts as his hips swayed in to rekindle the arousing contact. “While you clean, scrubbing the floor upon all fours, I will take advantage of your exposure. The longer it takes you to clean up your mess, the longer you will be fucked. When you are done you will stand up, take the bucket, and put it at my spot at the table. If I have finished, you will be fine. If I haven’t, then you will have to fight through my fucking the entire way.”

She shot a look at him over her shoulder that was riddled with horror and helplessness, her frost blue irises quivering.

He offered only a demonic smile, and then slowly started to draw her skirts up her legs. “Not yet.” He said as she turned and tried to grab the towel. “You must wait until I am ready.” Inch by inch the silken material ascended, exposing more and more of her supple limbs. The fashion trend of Burthian was to wear stockings beneath the gown, and this young girl followed along. Pure alabaster adhered to her long legs, coating her already soft skin in a layer of silk. They stopped at the thigh, where the tops were wreathed in frilly garters. He lifted the bell of the skirt over her waist and draped it across her back, revealing the enticing hump of her rear-end, as well as the damp curls of her young womanhood. The touch of her soft flesh against his calloused hands drew a deep, growling exhale from his lungs.

She whimpered softly as she felt him on her uncovered flesh. She tried to lurch forward, but his grip was too overpowering and kept her still. Her breath became quick spurts of air, and she drew her lip into her teeth to nibble upon in hopes of muffling her gasps.

Domiano glanced to Manius, her father, and noted the disgust and dread written upon his face. He snarled and plunged one hand into his breeches, pulling his fully erect cock from within. The stout phallus was thick and throbbing, a monster of a tool. Again his sinister grin returned and he gave the Duke merely a nod before turning back to attend to the daughter.

With his hand guiding the heavy rod, he swayed forward. The tip pushed against her, finding the thin flesh between her mound and her anus. He was amused by her startled cry, holding her by the hips. He angled his approach lower, and with the next sway touched against her slit. The span of her lips was dry, not splitting with the drag of his cock-tip as he drew it up and down against her.

He spat into his palm and then closed his fingers to glaze the digits with the saliva before dropping it down to wipe it against her. Her torrid slit absorbed the moisture and instantly became damp, and even though she clenched her gates shut he was still able to force both fingers deep inside of her. She gasped and her pretty face contorted with pain, but that didn’t stop the new king. He pushed the fingers completely in until they were buried to the last knuckle. He drew the embedded fingers apart so that the tight grip of her sheath would expand; and stretch it did.

She tried to lurch forward, to escape the torture of his penetration, but his iron grip held her fast. She knelt there on all fours, mewling and crying as his digits widened her.

Domiano kept the fingers there, fucking her gently as they expanded her hole. It was mostly the movement of his wrist that set the fingers into motion. He could feel her muscles folding around him with every new entry, and the conquest of her body made his stout cock pulsate with desire.

Her deep inhale was sharp and loud as he withdrew the fingers. He repositioned himself behind her so that his stiff hilt was level with her newly dampened gates. He brought his glazed digits up to lick her taste from them, casting a glance to Manius. He savored the taste of her body along with the helpless look her father gave him.

Turning back, he took hold of her with both hands and drove forward, spearing her young flesh and filling her with the angry thickness of his hard erection.

Her scream echoed inside the small room, and she jolted so violently that he was certain she broke her back. She fell forward, onto her forearms, the brutal penetration sapping her strength instantly.

“You may begin.” He said calmly, and then reared back, leaving only the tip inside of her.

It took a moment for her to respond, recovering her stolen strength as she laid there. Her chest heaved and her body shuddered uncontrollably. With every move she could feel him inside of her, invading her most cherished sanctuary. Tears streaked down her lovely cheeks as she reached out and plunged her hand into the bucket, the scolding water unable to compare to the pain that burned through her loins. She felt the rag slide through her fingers and pulled it free, sopping it upon the floor where the broken glass and wine laid.

Domiano watched as she positioned the rag, and right when she started to wipe, drove forward again. She screamed again, though that did not deter him from grinding his shaft deep inside of her.

She locked her arm at the elbow to not fall onto her forearms once more. It felt like there was metal along her throat with every swallow, though she forced herself through it, sweeping her arm back and forth to clean up the mess.

He drew back, leaving only the head again, and then slammed back inside of her. The pace was slow, methodical, and torturous. With every sweep to the left he drew out, and with every sweep to the right he drove in. The slap of flesh rang out like a symphony of brutal passion, mingling with the gasps and screams that came from her lips, and the growl that came from his.

The power in his thrusts jerked her back and forth, and made keeping any sort of pattern in her cleaning impossible. She tried to dip the rag back into the bucket, though the absence of one arm made keeping her balance unfeasible. With a healthy plunge he sent her forward and down onto her forearm once more, though this time she slid across the floor, and her soft flesh was beaded with small shards of glass. She cried out, but that didn’t stop him.

His palm harshly struck her bottom. “Faster!” The command was accompanied by a continuous barrage of thrusts, her slick pussy making the invasion so much easier.

Through her sobs she removed the rag from the bucket and pushed up onto all fours once more. Her body continued to surged like a doll, and she realized that the only way she would be able to clean the floor while in such a position would be to move with him rather than oppose his strength, which she couldn’t match. She started to move with him, rolling her hips against his plunge to meet him somewhere in the middle. The crescendo of their coupling crushed his lancing cock-head against her cervix, and while excruciatingly painful, it kept her somewhat grounded in comparison to the wild quake of before.

He growled victoriously as she stared to fuck back against him. He drove unmercifully deep inside of her, knifing through her soft, wet flesh. As the rapid thrusts persisted, he slid his hand across her back side until his thumb dipped between her ass cheeks. She did not respond until the flat face of the thumb covered her tiny little anus and began to apply pressure. That is when she tried to buck away from him. He had her trapped within his grip, though, and answered her attempt with another torrent of brutal thrusts.

The rag swished and swashed across the smooth marble. She was collecting the glass and wine into a smaller, more focused puddle, through the haze of the punishing penetration. She could feel her body starting to collapse around his thick cock, as though it were surrendering to his bestial onslaught. Breath was coming harder and harder, as was the ability to keep her eyes open. Her plan to counter his thrusts to keep her planted worked, but only for a period, and as time went on she realized the mistake of challenging his might.

Luckily, the arousal of the conqueror was accentuated by her defeat. With a roaring final thrust he stabbed inside of her, flooding her battered chamber with his searing orgasm. He held her there, fingers bruising the delicate flesh of her hips as his imbedded shaft spurted thick cum within her. Her screams made him grind even deeper, though he could not see the pain strewn across her face due to his clenched eyes.

Once drained, he tore himself free and stood. The stuck cock and his locked grip upon her body were the only things keeping her up, and once gone, she slumped to the floor. Luckily her gown and bodice were relatively thick, and protected her from the small shards of glass that she laid upon.

Her rest didn’t last long, though.

He moved around and knelt next to her head, reaching down to collect a fistful of hair, lifting her off the floor. He knew she couldn’t fight him and had to go where he directed. He brought her up to waist level and, with that fistful of her beautiful blonde tresses, cleaned his glistening cock. He looked to Manius. “You were right in thinking that this agreement should be celebrated, Duke Manius, though went about it in the wrong manner. We will celebrate this contract by the donation of your daughter to my castle.”

The look Manius gave was absurd loathing.

Once cleaned, he released his grip on her, and let her crumple back to the floor. “Unless, of course you disagree, in which case I’ll just have your throat slit here and now.”

There was no disagreement. There was only a nod.

sarakadarksoul @ 2008-02-07T06:29:00

2008-02-07T12:32:01Z

Originally he had both of the farmers daughters brought to his bedroom to be bathed and prepared for him, but after thinking on the matter, Domiano decided that such pleasantries should not be wasted on mere peasants. After all, these were the daughters of a mere farmer, and a pathetic one at that. He grinned in recollection of the pudgy man on all fours, his wife thrown over him and jolting with each pounding invasion that he made up her ass.

The hard, grey stone that lead down into the dungeon was cold and heartless, and Domiano considered it a fitting environment for what was in store for the youthful girls. One was married, he recalled, and the other looking. He could take a diabolical pleasure in the debasing of both purities.

The black iron of the gate was swung open by the warden, and with military grace he entered into the chamber. This particular sanctum was a refurbished torture chamber that hadn’t been used in many decades by the previous king. Domiano, though, was of another make, and had the chamber cleaned and restock for his personal use. A long table ran against one wall, littered with all sorts of devices and contraptions. Two rounded cages hung from the ceiling, spaced far enough so that those within could not touch, and a square cage was fitted nicely into a corner. An added element to the room, by his design, was the huge bed that was pressed snuggly up against the wall. Instead of thin posts it had four huge columns that held a sheer black canopy, its curtains drawn apart to expose the blood-red linens. Even though it should have looked out of place, somehow it fit right in. Only half a dozen candles were used to light the room, which cast the majority of it into shadow, foretelling of its dark purpose.

Upon the bed was the married daughter, Mariana. Her arms were extended above her head and held by thick leather straps that encircled her wrists, which were strung up by cords to the top of the bed. Around her thighs were similar leather straps, with cords pulling her legs apart and wrapping underneath the bed, binding her upon her knees with only the slightest slack to move in any one direction. Her young flesh was flawless and pale, except from the shoulder down and neck up – the places she couldn’t cover with clothing while working in the field. Her dark hair, curly and full, splayed out along her back and shoulders; hiding most of her face, save for the eyes. Her dark eyes were wide with fear and desperately shifted here and there, as though searching for something that could lead to an escape.

Domiano’s dark gaze pulled away from her, shifting instead to the figure that hung near the center of the room. She was the daughter who was looking to be married, Lucillia. Her skin was just as fair and just as pale, with tanned areas much the same. Her dark hair, though, fell away from the head to drag across the floor, which was easily done when hung up-side-down. Thin, black, straps criss-crossed intricately along her entire naked body, suspending her feet-up off of the floor, though maneuvered just enough to reveal her ripe little breasts and taut nipples. There was not as much fear in her eyes, but Domiano figured that was because she had no idea what was in store for her.

“My king?” The soft voice came from behind, innocent and shocked.

Domiano turned to find Talonina standing in the gateway of the room, her emerald eyes slowly roaming over all within, mouth ajar. She was naked, beautiful as always, her auburn hair brushed forward to veil her plump breasts, and her long legs encased in lilac stockings. He took a moment to admire her, his tongue moistening the corner of his mouth, before turning to head toward the long table. “With me.” He ordered.

She quickly came to his side, arriving with him as he came to the table. Even though she was there, she couldn’t help but keep her eyes on the two bound girls over her shoulder.

He didn’t need to look at her to see what she was doing. He knew. “You have lived in this castle for many years, but I doubt you ever saw this room.”

She said nothing.

“That is fine.” He said. “You will learn its use today. Turn around.”

She swallowed hard and raised her eyes up to his dark gaze, finding nothing but a stone’s coldness. She turned on her heels, putting her back to him.

He smacked her hard across the rear end, causing her to jolt and yelp. There was no real reason for it besides that fact that he could administer such treatment whenever he desired. He drew the belt around her waist and synched it, the fastener holding it tightly in place. He then bent at the knees and reached between her thighs, on hand grasping the thin straps that ran between while two fingers on the other hand stroked her bare mound. She was startled, though couldn’t help but moan. He brought the straps back, between and around her legs, and fastened them. When done, he stood. “Turn back.”

This time she did so quickly, just incase his spanking was due to the lackadaisical approach of her first turn.

He took a step back to appraise her. She was just as beautiful even with the wide black belt circling her waist, holding the smooth glass phallus at pelvic level.

She followed his eyes down to the dildo, and her emerald pools filled with surprise and fright. Instinctively she took hold of the cool glass and tried to pull it off, but the leather casing was far more durable than her meager strength.

“I know you, Talonina, and I know that the compassionate heart beating inside of you is begging for none of this to occur. Am I right?”

The dim candlelight made her moist eyes seem haunting. She nodded.

“Well then, little slave, you can help end their suffering by appeasing to my desire. You will tend to Mariana while I associate with Lucillia. The more thorough you are in your passion with her, the quicker I will be to finish, and the sooner we – and they—can move on. “

The confusion in Talonina’s eyes was swirling and evident. She looked to the girl on the bed for a moment and then back again with a little shake of her head.

Domiano stepped forward, closing the distance on them, and took her face in his hand. He forced her chin up so that she stared closely into his eyes. “The better you fuck her, the quicker I cum. The quicker I cum, the faster we are through. Understand?”

She swallowed hard once more, and nodded.

“You lack conviction and enthusiasm, little hole. I hope your physical attempts are more convincing than your verbal ones.” He said, turning away from her to cross the room toward the girls.

She quickly followed, the barely audible sound of her small feet drowned out by his heavy march.

He came to a stop at the up-side-down Lucillia and turned to Talonina, motioning for her to continue to the bed. He watched her as she passed him, full of uncertainty and indecision. She would have to learn to get over all of that if she were to survive life beside him. By the end of it all, she would be obedient; fully.

She moved to the bed and shared a look with Mariana, seeing the obvious fear. Talonina’s breasts shuddered with the next breath as she climbed over the sheets to get close to the captive.

Domiano had position the girl so that he would be able to have a good look from his stance nearby, the bed and all upon it in clear view. He reached inside his breeches and pulled forth his half-hard shaft. Lucillia was suspended at the perfect height to be mouth-level with his cock, and as he swayed forward to brush the head across her young mouth he whispered. “If I feel even the slightest graze of your teeth, I’ll knock them all out.” He took her whimper as her affirmation of understanding.

He watched as Talonina turned to regard him and then quickly turned back to Mariana. She lowered her mouth and started to lightly kiss the captive’s neck, disregarding the sneers that she was met with. Her mouth worked lower, coming down the column of the throat to descend toward the breasts.

He pushed forward, parting Lucillia’s lips, and invaded her small mouth. He heard her gasp as he pushed completely inside of her, and felt her throat squeeze the head of his cock, trying to oppose its presence. With a slow pump he began to fuck her mouth, all the while watching Talonina.

Talonina parted her soft lips and drew the nipple into her mouth with her tongue. She sucked at it, feeding off of the bosom, and then clenched the taut bud between her teeth.

Domiano could hear Mariana’s painful gasp, and the motion inside Lucillia’s mouth became faster.

Talonina took the other breast in her hand and started to knead it, the caress of her fingers becoming harsher the longer she sucked.

From where he stood he could see Mariana’s face contort with pain, straining so hard she was turning red, which only fueled his hips more. The patient pace of his thrusting became a driving use of her mouth, the soppy sound of her gagging and groaning around every insertion only stirring his lust that much more.

Talonina lapped hard at the nipple before pulling away with the painful pop of broken suction. She extended her legs between the thighs of Mariana, which were held easily apart by the leather straps, and then slid fully beneath her so that Mariana straddled her. She took the cool glass cock in her hand and very carefully began to work it across the span of Mariana’s pussy lips. She could tell that the slit was dry, and for a moment became scared. She didn’t want to just shove the phallus up inside of the girl; fore she understood the pain involved. Thinking quickly about what Domiano might like to see, she slid her hand between her own thighs and glazed the tips with juice from her own core. She was ashamed to admit that she was starting to get wet with arousal as she watched the new king slide in and out of the other captive’s mouth, and even a bit envious. She took the honeyed fingers and brought them up to Mariana’s mound. The dry flesh took instantly to the cream, moistening completely. The head of the glass cock ran a smooth ride along the span of the cleft, splitting the lips enough to gain access, and then pushed deep inside.

Domiano growled as he watched the phallus push up inside the bound girl, and felt his loins ignite with powerful lust. His hips drove deeper, sinking the head over and over again into her throat, the forward swing slapping his scrotum against her nose and eyes. He took her nipples in his fingers and pinched them hard, and as the girl screamed around his pulsating length, he exploded inside of her lips. She coughed and gagged around him, but that did not detour the punishing impalement of her throat so that the spurts could flood her mouth.

Talonina watched the familiar sight of the new king’s face twist with orgasm, and it made her hips buck beneath the bound girl. She was moving in a rhythm now, fucking the tender pussy of the captive nice and smooth. The greasy glide of the cock made the invasion almost enjoyable, and even though Mariana continued to hold a look of horror within her eyes, Talonina was certain she had heard a mixed moan in there somewhere.

Before he was even done, Domiano pulled out and started for the bed, dripping a thin line of gelatinous residue across the floor between them. He stepped up onto the sheets and moved around in front of Mariana. Her eyes were half-lidded and she didn’t even realize he was getting so close until he was right there in front of her. He took a handful of her dark hair and forced her mouth open in a gasp with a sharp tug, easily resting his spent cock inside her lips. She gurgled around the visitor, though he noticed that she didn’t use her teeth. She must have heard the promise he made to her sister.

He began to pump once more, matching the rhythm of Talonina so that both holes were being filled simultaneously. He glanced to where Lucillia hung, his thick cum dripping out of her mouth to run up her nose, cheeks, and eyes in rivulets. The sight was enough to cause his freshly spent shaft to stir once more.

From beneath Mariana, and now Domiano, Talonina watched as his scrotum, still tight with recent release, swung back and forth with the motion of his hips against Mariana’s face. She found her own body lurching and churning with desire, which only prompted her thrusts to grow stronger, embedding the phallus deeper. She took hold of Mariana’s hips and held them steady, using the grip for leverage to drive even harder. The invasion became slick suddenly, and Talonina was certain that the girl had climaxed.

With his rejuvenated cock he moved out of her mouth, the departure heralding a gasp and deep and inhale from the girl. He moved around her and knelt, straddling Talonina’s extended legs, so that the thick length of his scalding erection could nuzzle between her ass cheeks. The sudden arrival sent Mariana bucking wild, though with the limited mobility because of the restraints, all she really did was drive Talonina’s thrusting dildo deeper inside of her.

His took his shaft, still thickly coated in saliva from the mouths of both girls, and placed the head against her tight little anus.

Again she bucked, and pleas spewed from her lips. “Please! Don’t! You can’t…! I…please!”

He could feel the throbbing hunger inside his stiff rod, her begging only fueling it on, and with a strong thrust he split the tiny hole open and drove deep inside.

The muscles of her entire body wracked, and she tensed against the restraints as her scream filled the room. It only took a few seconds for her to become hoarse, her taut muscles weakening quickly there after.

His stroke matched that of Talonina, and together they fucked her young body, each hole of her lower half punished in unison. He could feel the hard phallus penetrating Mariana’s pussy through the thin wall that separated the cavities, and enjoyed rubbing up against it as he filled her virgin asshole. She was a lifeless marionette, who jolted and shuddered only when they drove into her, limply hanging from the straps that held her arms above her head.

He could feel the oncoming of another release, and his thrusts quickened. Whimpers and cries poured out of Mariana’s mouth, synchronized with the harsh ass-fucking, her entire body starting to go numb.

With a raging fury he sank deep inside her rectum and unleashed pouring gouts of cum that flooded the chamber. His hips crushed against her backside and he held flush against her, roaring into the open air as his seed exploded inside of her. His blood was on fire, the convulsing of his loins causing his fingers to clench around her hips, bruising the pale flesh.

Finally, when the last drop emerged, he fell back, tearing his spent length from her rear. He collapsed upon the bed, a deep purr emanating from his chest.

“Little slave.” He murmured, his dark eyes opening just enough to see her look at him from around the ravaged body of the captive. His grin was vile as he dropped his head back down, leaving his hand hanging above just long enough to point toward his flaccid serpent. “A good cleaning shall be needed.”

Rule of the New King

2008-02-07T12:30:29Z

Domiano drove so hard into Talonina that the entire bed shook, his feral growls fusing with the violent slap of the thick oak headboard against the stone wall; not to mention her screams and whimpers of blissful agony. He rode atop her, her small wrists claimed in one of his huge hands and held above her head, stretching her out. He watched with a primal hunger as her breasts jolted back and forth with his powerful thrusts; the sight only adding to the pleasurable glide of his seething erection inside her welcoming core. Her legs, wrapped in the heavenly touch of cerulean stockings, clung around his waist frantically, locking at the ankle to ensure their grip.

With a howling finale he plunged deep inside her, his release exploding in a thick gush. He gripped her wrists so tightly that his knuckles started to turn white, grinding his hips into the junction of her thighs, draining. He could feel her slick chamber grow more saturated as her body convulsed gently beneath him, revealing her own orgasm.

When fully empty he turned to the side, pulling out so quickly that she gasped and subconsciously reached for him with weak arms. Domiano fell back on the bed for a moment, searching the domed ceiling’s architecture and décor as he recovered his breath. It was masterfully crafted and covered in fat little cherubs and dancing devils, quite to his liking. He would see to it that some of the other rooms in the fortress were given this ceiling.

He arched a brow as he heard the sniffling from beside him, and turned to find Talonina with her head buried in the pillow, the soft shiver of her neck telling of her sobs. “What is wrong with you?”

When she didn’t answer he took her by the arm and yanked her around to face him. Her emerald eyes sparkled in the dim candle light, soaked with tears, and the tip of her nose was starting to turn red.

“I ask you a question, little slave. What is wrong with you?”

“You…you hurt my wrists…” She whimpered as she cradled her hands, soothing them.

By the arm once more he turned her over, though this time put her face into the pillow, exposing her back to him. He held her there, and with a harsh discipline he spanked her, his strong palm finding the open cheeks of her ass half a dozen times. She squirmed beneath him, but to no avail. “You will never take that tone with me. I will not be accused by the likes of you!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She screamed into the pillow.

As the skin upon her bottom reddened he could feel the stirs of lust inside of him start to propel. With the final slap he left his hand upon her plump rear end, squeezing the cheek, before letting his fingers slide down the crevice. She squirmed, but his strength was greater than hers, and he held her still. The tip of a finger grazed the tight archway of her anus, the teasing of her sensitive flesh producing subconscious jolts. Domiano trailed the digit lower, tracing the line of her cum-filled cleft from one side to the other. This seemed to settle her a bit, though her whimpers could be heard muffled against the pillow.

Carelessly he tossed her to the side and rose from the bed. Naked, sweat still glazing his muscular physique, he strode across the room to where the trisecting mirror stood, and checked himself in the reflection. He could see every angle of his being with just a turn, and her as well behind him strewn across the bed. She lay there, face turned against the pillow, catching her breath.

When he caught her eye through the reflection he snapped his fingers and pointed to the spot next to him. “Here.” He said coldly.

Slowly, her body wracked with pain, she rolled off the bed onto her feet. Her legs were wobbly, lacking much strength.

“No.” he said with a growl. “Crawl to me.”

The words sounded like a blessing to Talonina, and with very little grace she fell to all fours. The exertion of standing, normally such a mundane feat, had caused her breath to strain, and she used the small amount of time it took to crawl to his side to regain it. Once there, she sat back onto her haunches, digging her heels into her bottom.

“I am very disappointed with you, little slave. “ He said as he watched her through the mirror. His dark eyes were like that of a hawk; cold and focused. “I grant you the opportunity to convey a grievance and instead you turn it into an indictment of my wrath?” The question was rhetorical.

She sat there, her dazzling emerald gaze staring at him through the reflection like he always demanded. She could feel her cheeks starting to flush with the awkward circumstance, and squirmed a bit upon her knees.

He turned so that he faced her, his flaccid stalk swaying between his thighs. He watched her eyes, noting how they fought not to look down at his member, and a small grin found the corners of his thin mouth. How hungry she had become for him. “Clean it.”

Her pretty face lit up and she very slowly leaned forward. She brought one hand up to brace her against his thigh as the other took a silken grip around his length and brought him forward to be bathed by her warm and loving breath. She parted her lips and very slowly traced them with the head of his cock, her tongue swishing out to caress and moisten the tip, before pushing past the archway and into the depths of her mouth.

He sucked a soft breath through his teeth as he felt the tepid confines enclose around him, one hand extending out to rest upon her auburn hair. He waited a moment before continuing, letting her find a rhythm. She did, and rather quickly, bringing his shaft to full life within a matter of strokes. He could hear her soft whimper with every plunge.

“I have very little tolerance for those who would seek to take unnecessary advantage of my courteousness, especially when the one taking the advantage is as disgraceful as you. As a result of your folly, you will be punished.”

She groaned around his cock as though injured by his words, though her pace never showed it. In and out, he slid across her soft lips, the rigid length re-finding her hungry depths with a growing arousal.

“You will learn propriety, little hole. You will come to understand that your place has no room for protest or complaint. You are a device that I use to slate my lust, and nothing more. You are a fleshy hole that I collect my cum in, with a mouth that is used only at my discretion.”

With her eyes closed, sounding as though she were savoring the greatest of meals, she drove him into her throat. Domiano could feel the lustful storm brewing inside his loins, his chest starting to rise with exhilaration, hand clenching around her ginger locks. He was close, and his words did not seem to distract her from her cause.

Right when he came to culmination he drew back from her, completely departing from her working lips. She tried to follow, but the hand that held her hair kept her still, unable to pursue. The angry head hovered mere inches from her face, which was a twisted canvas of pain and pleasure thanks to the handful of hair, and shot a spurt that landed in a gooey streak across her nose and lips. Another quickly followed, and then another. The first landed near her cheek and eyes, while the other gobbed into her hair. The rest drained out of him, dripping down across her lips. Through barely cracked eyes he watched as her tongue darted out to draw his sperm into her mouth, and slowly he leaned forward so that she could devour what was left. He wasn’t disappointed with her enthusiasm, and shuddered as she sucked the sensitive head of his spent shaft.

“You will wear this upon your face for the entire day so that all who see you know that you are nothing more than a tapestry of my desire. You walk when I command. You talk when I command. You fuck when I command, and there is no other way.”

She drew back, swallowing softly, and looked up with her pretty green eyes. She slowly nodded.

“Very good.” He whispered. “Now dress me.”

Type your cut contents here.

Rule of the New King

2008-02-07T12:29:09Z

Of all the rooms inside the great fortress of a castle, there were none quite as exquisite as the throne room. The domed vault was filled with relics of the past, from primordial weapons and armor to the latest in fashion and décor. It was the showroom, the meeting room, and the entertainment room, all rolled into one.

It was also a room that not many people were permitted to see. The general populace of the kingdom would never step foot inside the castle, and thus never see its most magnificent chamber. However, if a landowner or shop tender were in enough financial debt, there were some times when the king would see them, and such a meeting would take place in the throne room. In the past this meeting would be to find some middle ground, perhaps some sort of garnishment policy so that the landlord’s debt could be paid little by little over time. Cacerania’s rule had been a fair one and promoted outcome over consequences.

The new king, though, was something far darker, and his methods rarely were in favor of the indebted.

Domiano sat upon the throne, dark hair cascading down to his shoulders, framing his handsome visage of high cheek bones and obsidian eyes. He stared at the simple man across from him, showing no form of sympathy or compassion. “Your land is then forfeit.”

“No!” The man cried out. He was an older man, early fifties, with a round head that sat upon a pudgy body. He wore a tattered tunic and plain breeches, though did have boots. He nervously wiped sweat from his thinning hair, and shook his head frantically. “Your highness, please, we have nothing else.”

“Then it would seem now that you have nothing at all.” Domiano leaned back, his right hand dropping to the side to stroke Talonina’s hair. She knelt beside him, though close enough for him to reach, stark naked save for the ashen hose that graced her beautiful legs.

“That farm has been in my family for four generations, highness.” The landlord pleaded. “It was nothing but bare ground when my forefathers arrived. It is now a prosperous, crop plenty, farm.”

Domiano smirked. “Crop plenty? Well, that can’t be right. If it were so plentiful then we wouldn’t be having this discussion. You’d have enough coinage to pay your taxes and you’d be at home right now, probably plowing your wife’s fields.”

The reference brought a hushed, rolling laugh from the guards and advisors within the room. Domiano turned to give Triarius, who stood just off the throne dais, a wink.

The landlord swallowed hard, turning a look over his shoulder to bring his family into view. His dark haired wife, his two dark haired daughters, and his young, fair haired son, all stood in a perfect line with their eyes lowered. He had thought that bringing them might be a way to sway some of the new king’s mercy in his favor, but was now starting to think that their presence inside the castle was a mistake.

Domiano, even though he could only see her profile, was well aware of the anger that crossed Talonina’s beautiful features. She tried to stone the emotions and not let them be seen, but she was far too expressive, and the rage was easy to survey. He stroked her soft auburn hair once more, though she only knelt there like a statue and gave no reaction.

He turned back to the landlord. “Did you truly come to beg for my compassion without any sort of donation; with no gifts? Your former king must have been quite the doormat.”

The landlord’s eyes got very big, and he quickly dropped them to the floor. Talonina reacted as well, stiffening with the mention of her former husband. Domiano did not let her response go unnoticed, however, and gave a painful little tug to her hair as he stood. Her whimper was soft, though quite audible to him.

Domiano stepped down off the dais and toward the plump farmer, ebony eyes narrowed on him. The man kept his eyes on the floor, quivering more and more as the new king came closer. “Nothing?” his voice was a hiss.

“I…I have no money, my king. The war ravaged my lands. They need time to recover before crops can be harvested.”

“And you have no cattle?” Domiano asked.

He shook his head. “The small number I did have you…you…”

Domiano raised a brow, folding his thick arms over his chest. “Go on.”

“You slew them and fed them to your soldiers on your way through.”

Domiano barked out a laugh and stepped past the farmer, his military stride inline with the man’s family. “And I am certain that at the time you were more than happy to feed me and my men because you knew…you knew…that when we arrived at the gates of Burthian we would be repelled by mighty king Cacerania and his unbeatable army. Sound about right?”

“No, your highness.” The landlord said to the new king’s back. “I never…never thought…”

Domiano knew he was lying. This man was an honest farmer who knew only of a simple life and hard work. He struggled to say the words because they were untrue, and this landlord was not a liar. Domiano could almost respect that. If the entire world were filled with honest people then he would never have to worry about deceit and betrayal. Life would be so much easier.

However, life wasn’t.

“I’ll take your wife and your daughters.” He said as he came to a stop in front of the matron of the family. He could see the fear instantly fill her by the way her shoulders tensed. She did well in hiding it on her face, though, remaining collected; a far better showing than his little slave.

“Your highness?” The question was so awkward that it caused his voice to tremble.

Domiano nodded and reached up to take her breast in his calloused hand. Her plain gown was thin, and the plump flesh of her hidden bosom was easy to examine. “Yes, she’ll do nicely. In exchange for three months of leniency, I’ll have your wife and two daughters.” He glanced to the girls standing on each side of their mother, and both looked at him with wide, scared eyes. He liked that.

“My king, We…I mean, I just…” The landlord’s mouth was so dry that he had to swallow several times just to regain his voice. “My oldest daughter just married last year, and her sister is looking for a husband now. We were hoping…we wanted…virtue.”

Domiano gave a sharp squeeze to the woman’s breast and heard her whimper. That was enough to cause his limp cock to stir. He shifted his harsh grasp to the other breast and began to fondle it. “A good point. Young ladies should have their virtue in tact when they marry, and we certainly do not want to sire any offspring. That would be nothing but trouble for you.”

A sense of relief washed over the farmer, and he brought his chubby hand up to wipe away the lines of sweat that seeped from his brow. “Thank you, my king. You are merciful.”

Domiano’s vile gaze came into view over his shoulder, his face half-veiled by dark tresses. “Ah, but you didn’t let me finish.” Domiano could hear the man gulp. “Simply because we can not risk broken virginity and anxious fetuses does not mean that I can’t slate my lust on them. In fact, I almost prefer it this way.”

“This way, my lord?”

“Indeed. Now I have more than a viable reason to fuck each one up the ass.” He turned back to see the exceptionally large eyes of the matron, adding. “Not that I needed one.”

“My king?”

The man was obviously taken aback, and his voice was nothing more than a raspy whisper by this point. Domiano extended his hand toward the mother and offered her a very cold smile. “It can be willingly, or it can be forced upon you. I’ll let you make the decision, though I’m sure you can garner which is more painful.”

The mother turned toward her children and presented a faint smile. There was only a brief moment of hesitation before she accepted the king’s offered hand.

Domiano turned to head back toward the dais, glancing to Triarius. “Take the daughters up to my room and have them bathed.”

The soldier nodded and moved to claim each girl.

“Highness, please, I beg you—.”

Before he could finish Domiano struck out, backhanding him across the face. If he had used all of his strength he would have sent the man to the floor, but instead, it was intended just to sting. “Shut your flapping jowls, dog. You beg for me to be lenient with your inability to pay your taxes, and now you beg for the same leniency in the payment I have chosen? Shall I just let you live for free while everyone else pays your way?”

“I’m…I’m sorry…” Tears streaked down his chubby cheeks as he held the newly swollen, red welt on his face.

“That is evident. Now, get down on all fours.”

The questions in the man’s eyes lasted only long enough for him to see the wrath in the king’s gaze. Quickly he fell to the floor, hands and knees holding him up.

Domiano moved the matron to the side of him, and motioned. “Drape across him in the same fashion.” He could see the confusion in her large brown eyes, and again motioned to the farmer. “He will be the bed in which I take you upon.”

Clarity swooped in, and hopelessness quickly filled her eyes. She tried to smile; fighting back the tears as she lowered down to kneel atop her husband.

“Little slave!” He barked, snapping Talonina from her inner thoughts. She had drifted off to a much nicer place than the throne room, seeing that as the only escape from the nightmare before her, but with his snarl she was forced back.

He stood over the couple, pointing to the spot right next to them. “Here.”

Quickly she moved. They weren’t far from where she sat so she stayed on all fours, crawling to the spot he commanded. When she arrived she cast him a questioning look, to which he replied. “On all fours.” So she remained.

First off came his shirt, and then his breeches, freeing the masculine soldier’s body that lied beneath his clothing. Taut muscle rippled into movement as he positioned himself. With the couple in one spot, and Talonina in the other, all it would take was a turn of the hips to go back and forth.

He settled down onto his knees between Talonina’s calves, his rough hands finding the soft swell of her backside. He felt her tense, and saw her auburn tresses shift as she started to look back at him and then remembered she was not allowed. With a sharp breath he took his length on one hand, giving it a few strokes to appraise its glorious shape, and brought it forward so the plum-shaped head pushed against the sweet crease of her mound. He heard her gasp, felt her ass cheeks clench, and growled his claim over her flesh. A sharp thrust drove him inside, splitting her open to swallow all of his thick girth, and she did so with a scream. Instantly he felt her tight walls glaze with moisture, and the familiar shudder of her delicate frame told him of her release. “I did not give you permission.” He hissed, and again her body froze.

Domiano started a slow and smooth pumping of hips, sliding the entire length of his cock into her, from tip to base and back again. He reached down and took hold of the nearby matron’s plain skirt and pulled it up, slinging its length up over her hips to expose her thighs and her ass. She had a very nice hind for a woman of her age, one that the new king would enjoy.

He could feel Talonina starting to quiver, and knew that she was holding back the raging climax that swayed on the edge of her command. She whimpered with the containment, her fingers turning white upon the floor with the pain of holding her body steady against his pounding invasion. She was almost in tears.

“Now.” He said, and the word itself triggered her orgasm. She sang out with a loud moan as her body quaked with the powerful release, flooding the chamber that he raided. From tip to butt, the shaft of his stout manhood was slickened.

He pulled the sopping length from Talonina, her yelp signifying her displeasure, and turned to settle in between the Matron’s legs. Because of the angle he had to rise up, in fact he wasn’t even on his knees anymore; he was standing behind her, though bent at the knees. His cock was slick between his fingers, and he used that slickness to paint a small circle around her anus. He felt her tense, and heard her husband beneath gasp as well. No doubt she was digging her nails into him for support. With a finger he opened her tight hole, driving it clear to the third knuckle. He could tell that she had never been used in this way before, and that made him grin. He used his finger, and then a second, to spread her open. The grease from Talonina’s cunt was more than sufficient in its lubrication of her small orifice, and she was responding well to the cruel insertion. Finally, he withdrew the digits and placed the head of his cock against the gaping anus. Still slick with honeyed orgasm, the tip slipped into her tight fissure, and with a methodical ease he filled her asshole with his shaft. To have done so patiently would have extended the pain, so instead he pushed himself all the way in with one smooth thrust. She cried out with pain as the panic set in, causing her to slap the floor and her husband’s arms. Domiano held her hips, not letting her escape, until he was grinding into her backside.

He only held inside of her for a moment so that the virgin sanctum could stretch to accommodate his size. As soon as he felt the pressure ease, even a little, he started into her. He drilled her with brutal thrusts and slapped his flesh against hers. He growled and snarled as he fucked her up the ass, bringing his hand down to spank her when she clenched too much. It was fast and vicious, an absolute beating of her rear end, and one that brought him to a roaring orgasm in just minutes. When he finally did plunge into the oblivious of orgasm, he rammed his fleshy spear so deep inside of her that it sent her forward, the force great enough to send her and her husband to the floor. Domiano fell with them, the added momentum of the fall creating a more potent stab inside of her, and held there a to fully drain.

When finished, Domiano pulled back so sharply that she yelped with in pain at the departure.. He stood, completely naked, and regarded the both of them, farmer and wife. He gave a disapproving nod. “You’ve earned one month. Your daughters will earn you an additional two. That is three months of free living while you figure out how to come up with the back taxes owed on your land.” He moved around Talonina and lowered his hand. She quickly took it and came to her feet, though winced with an ache between her thighs.

He turned and started for the stairs that lead to his bedchamber, though at the first step stopped and turned to look back at the comingled limbs of the married couple, still strewn across the floor. “Oh, and if you can’t come up with the money by then, I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with …other…arrangements.”

sarakadarksoul @ 2008-02-07T06:23:00

2008-02-07T12:27:25Z

“Discipline,” Domiano said as he towered over the kneeling Talonina. “That is what you lack.”

Her sparkling emerald eyes looked up to meet his obsidian gaze with uncertainty. “I…I don’t know what that means.”

“Like that.” He started in a slow circle around her, eyes studying her form, the tips of his fingers trailing across her shoulders. “You simply speak when you wish, unafraid of the consequences.”

“I am not allowed to speak?” She turned her head to watch him, the sight of her pretty eyes mingling with the hue of her auburn hair. “Is that what you are saying?”
He completed the circle, and the survey of her near-nakedness. Her pale flesh was a flawless coat of delicious cream, which accentuated the pink touch of her nipples. The soft span of auburn curls was barely seen between her closed legs, which were partially concealed in the white silk of her stockings. She was lovely indeed. “You are allowed to speak when I say so.”

Her shocked gasp was louder than intended. “That…that is absurd.”

His smirk was cruel as he took her by the chin, holding her face still. “That is your life now.”

The quiver in her eyes made his cock start to throb inside his breeches. She was a delicate dove, ignorant to the servitude she would endure, and it was that corruption that sparked the fire inside his mind.

He released her chin and turned, waving Triarius over.

Triarius, the stout soldier who was second-in-command of Domiano’s army, crossed the distance with a military stride, a three-foot long wooden box held between his hands. He moved before the new king, presenting the case.

Domiano unhooked the latches at the front and pushed the lid open.

From Talonina’s position on the floor she couldn’t see what was in it, but that did not keep her from subconsciously stretching her neck as though it might offer a better view.

Domiano removed from the box a whip, though none like Talonina had ever seen before. The hilt was a foot long and wrapped in a soft leather grip that criss-crossed down its entire length. Instead of a single lash extending from the hilt, though, there were many, a dozen or maybe more, though they only reached a foot or so off the base.

“This is for you.” Domiano said, brushing his long black hair from his face. “To help teach you discipline.”

“How?” she trembled.

His laugh was from deep in his chest. “Case in point, little slave. You speak before given permission. Lean forward onto your hands and lift your hindquarters from the floor.”

Her confusion was evident upon her charming little face, but she complied. She reached forward and brought herself up onto all fours. Her pert little breasts hung from her, and the swell of her bottom was exposed.

“Eyes forward.” He said from her flank.

The bewilderment continued, seeing as how normally he demanded that she look at him. Again she obeyed, fearful of his wrath, and turned her eyes away from him to a place far across the room in front of her.

The crack of the lashes across her backside stole her breath in a single, high-pitched gasp. She snapped around, her gaze a combination of fear, pain and anger.

Domiano’s voice was even and cold. “I told you to look forward.”

For a brief moment she contemplated fleeing, but where would she go? Even if somehow she were able to get free of this room, to escape Domiano and Triarius, where would she find sanctuary? The entire kingdom was under his rule, and it would not be her home. That left only the wilds, and after travelling them with the priesthood of her father she knew how dangerous those roads could be. Whether bandits or beasts, she knew she wouldn’t last long. With a deep breath she slowly turned her head back around to look in front once more.

Again the lash came down, and she cried out.

From his position above her he could see the red stripes appearing across her flesh. Her pale skin was a perfect canvas for him to paint such a sick and pretty picture upon, and he was more than willing to practice his talent. “Triarius,” he calmly said. “Take off your clothing.”

Triarius gave a sharp nod, and quickly began to undo his breeches.

As Domiano expected, Talonina’s entire body became stiff with fear. She kept her eyes forward, locked on some distant thing, but even from where he stood he could see their wide set of fear. Shots of eroticism coursed through him, causing his stout cock to throb painfully.

Once Triarius was completely naked, massive erection extending hungrily from his person, Domiano motioned welcomingly toward the queen. “Between her legs so she straddles you, brother. “

Brother was a term that all within the army used, and because of how close he and Triarius were, he considered it fitting. He watched as the naked soldier lowered down to his haunches and then extended his feet through her parted thighs to slide between. Once positioned, she straddled him upon all fours, though with her ass toward his face. Domiano could see her cheeks starting to turn red, embarrassment fueling her veins due to the exposure. He couldn’t help but grin as he watched her. “You are to obey, and if you cannot, then you will be punished. Do you understand?”

She trembled, her unchallenged mound hovering above the throbbing tip of Triarius’ cock, and nodded.

“Good. You are going to ride Triarius’ until you are about to climax. Once there, you will tell me and then await further instructions.”

Her glistening emerald eyes almost turned to him, but she remembered at the last moment that she hadn’t been given permission to meet his gaze, and sent them back in front of her. She took a deep breath and gave a slow nod.

“Very good, little slave. Begin.”

Talonina gasped as she took hold of Triarius’ heavy cock, having reached between her thighs to claim it. The thick flesh was hot to the touch, and throbbed with a vicious desire. Her fingers felt small wrapped around the girth, and as she brought the head to the moist lips of her pussy, she really understood how big it was. Her creamy hole felt so small as she rolled her hips, trying to ease it in. She whimpered as her tight flesh parted around the stout tip, and gave a raspy, drawn out moan as she lowered her hips, tentatively pushing the length deep inside of her. She had to stop when it was half way in, and wait while her tiny chamber stretched to accommodate him. Her breath caught in her throat, and her skin felt alive and crawling as jolts of pleasure exploded all through her. “Now.” She whispered.

“Now?” Domiano said with a laugh. “But you aren’t even fully mounted.”

“I…I know.” She gasped, a graceful undulating of her hips re-starting his invasion of her. She forced her hips down to accept all of him. “…please.”

“No.” Domiano answered, moving around so that he stood directly before her. He examined her wanton expression as he unfastened his breeches, withdrawing the length of his erection, keeping it in hand at her mouth’s level. “You will not come until I do, slave.”

She had to force her eyes open against the pain of Triarius’ fully impaled cock. The large shaft stole her breath and numbed her flesh as it expanded. She could barely comprehend what the new king was saying. All she knew was that he wouldn’t allow her to orgasm and that he held his own cock before her. She could feel the explosion balanced on the edge of control, though she was fearful as to how long she could maintain it.

Domiano reached forward, taking a handful of her beautiful auburn hair, and pulled her face close to his hardness. She yelped with the sharp tug of her tresses, and he used that opportunity to spear her swollen lips. The depths of her mouth were warm and welcoming, and she did well in pulling her teeth away from his length. He thrust forward; pushing the head into the archway of her throat, and with a smooth determination began to fuck her mouth.

Talonina had never felt so full. The length of Domiano repeatedly plunged into her mouth, pushing her lips apart as his taste saturated her tongue. She moaned around it, and though the act was degrading, she felt the tight sheath of her core, wrapped tightly around Triarius’ vibrant length, glaze with moisture.

Domiano heard her pleading whimper as he pushed into her throat. “Not yet, slave. Almost.” The pace grew, his grip on her hair holding her head still so that he could use her without resistance. Her wet mouth acted as a wonderful chasm for his length, sliding deep inside over and over again.

She could feel her body starting to sway. The vibration of Domiano molesting her mouth was causing her muscles below to clench, as though taunting the eruption of her orgasm. Her eyes were welling with tears, though not from pain, but from the frustration of not being able to simply let go. If it lasted any longer, she wouldn’t be able to.

Like the sweet nectar of the gods, Domiano’s seed exploded into her mouth. With a feral growl, the new king plunged himself deep so that his thick and salty cum spewed down her throat. The length of his furious shaft pumped and throbbed, draining his release. “Now!” he roared.

Luckily he gave the order; her body couldn’t wait any longer. The taste of his fiery release sent her reeling over the edge, climaxing with a quaking shudder that rocked her atop Triarius’ fully inserted member, bathing the large rod with the honeyed cream of her orgasm. Her screaming moan was long, and ended in a hoarse whimper around Domiano’s milked cock as her body started to give out with the fatigue of the powerful release. While she was coming to an end, though, others were just beginning.

Triarius’ large hands reached out and took hold of her arms, pulling them back so she sat straight up on his cock. The position allowed for a deeper penetration, the head crushed against the farthest reaches of Talonina’s pussy, summoning yet another cry. His hips began a fast and harsh upward thrust, driving his embedded length into her slick folds like a hammer. She bounced atop him, her arms drawn out to the side as though she were being crucified upon his cock.

Domiano was savvy enough to draw back, pulling his dwindling length from her lips to hear her moans and screams. And that she did, filling the chamber with howling cries of passion that sang out above the rampant slap of flesh. He watched as her small breasts flamboyantly danced with the brutal bounce of her body. He could feel himself starting to churn again, which was incredible considering that he had just experienced such a powerful release.

With a final thrust that lifted Talonina off of her knees, Triarius sent spurts of gelatinous cum deep into her cleft, throbbing against the firm grip of her glazed inner walls.

Talonina had also found another release; in fact, she had found a half dozen or so all laced together through his cruel fucking of her. With her head thrown back and her neck strained, she sang out with the orgasmic blast, and if not for the strong hands that kept her perched upon his spitting serpent she would have collapsed out of sheer exhaustion.

When his seed completely drained inside of her, Triarius tossed her to the side, off of his cock. She landed in a crumpled pile on the floor beside him, curling around her aching limbs as though some how she could shelter them.

Domiano couldn’t help but smile as he watched her conform to a more fetal position. He tucked his spent shaft back into his breeches, and turned to Triarius. “Exceptional.”

Rule of the New King.

2008-02-07T12:24:30Z

Domiano sat in his new throne, one leg draped over the arm of the huge chair as he reclined casually. His hair, a raven hued length of silk, was drawn tightly back into a ponytail at the top of his head, freeing his obsidian eyes to clearly view the scene before him.

The man strung up in the center of the room was an advisor to Cacerania, and a military chancellor to boot. He was older than Domiano, well into his forties, with curly brown hair that was streaked with dirt and blood. They had found him on the field of battle the day the king had been slain, and instead of killing him immediately, Domiano thought it might be better to wait and savor the agony the man would endure. The chancellor hung by the wrists, stretching him so that only his tip-toes could touch the floor, and his clothes were stripped from him, exposing a body ravaged by scars and crudely healed wounds, along with a free and flaccid penis hanging between his legs.

Triarius stood behind him, clutching the hilt of his cruel whip. He wore only breeches and boots, having removed his shirt due to the strenuous assault he laid upon the chancellor’s back. His thick chest and shoulders glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, as did the perfect dome of his bald head. To any watching, a snarl could be seen hiding beneath his dark goatee with every rear back.

The crack of the whip sang out, echoing throughout the throne room, quick accompanied by the agonizing cry of the victim. The chancellor swayed forward beneath the force of the blow, dragging his toes, which increased the painful pressure upon his wrists. His feet quickly shifted beneath him, trying to regain a solid footing.

“This is your last chance, sir.” Domiano said from his throne. “Swear your allegiance to me and tell me of all of the alliances your fallen king had, and I will not only spare your life, but I will offer you a position within my cabinet.”

Blood poured out of the chancellor’s mouth from where he had bit through his lip to deal with the touch of the whip. His hazel eyes were glazed with pain and fear, but his face was far too fatigued to show any emotion. He said nothing; he only hacked and secured his footing upon his toes.

Domiano and Triarius shared a look, and then the new king waved his hand. “Kill him.”

Triarius gave a wicked grin. He reached far back, the bulge of his bicep like a rounded stone, and locked in on the throat of the chancellor.

“No!”

The scream came from an entry on the other side of the room, and when Domiano turned to look, he found Talonina in full stride, racing toward the strung man. Her svelte body was naked, and with each long step of her supple legs—clad in plum colored stockings—her breasts bounced back and forth. Her emerald eyes were locked on the chancellor, and her auburn hair frantically bounced in her wake.

Triarius greeted her with the back of his hand, stepping around the chancellor to deliver the blow. She hadn’t even seen it coming, and crumpled to the floor instantly.

Domiano shifted in his seat, bringing both legs around to the front, which allowed him to lean forward and rest his elbows on his knees. He regarded the queen carefully, and then addressed her with a sardonic tone. “Hello, little slave.”

She turned her head to bring him into view and he could see the red imprint of Triarius’ hand stamped into her cheek. She looked shocked and utterly confused. “You…you have to stop.”

“Do I?” The question was fairly mocking. He lifted out the seat and moved across the room, stepping gracefully down off the dais to join her. “And why is that?”

“I…you just…you just have to.” She was stammering. She glanced up to where Triarius towered over her, and quickly crawled away from him.

Domiano stepped into the path of her frantic escape, scooping her under the arms and lifting her to her feet. She tried to pull away from grip on her, but his strength endured, enabling him to extend through the crook of her arms to take her small breasts in his calloused hands. He felt her tense, the faint muscles of her noblewoman’s body stiffening quickly. She tried to pull away once more, though there was a hurried reconsideration when she felt the pain his fingers administered to her nipples, and she became completely still.

“And why do I have to?” He asked against the soft flesh of her neck, reaching up far enough to lick the lobe of her ear. Her nipples were taut pebbles in his grasp.

The faintest of moans slipped past her lips, yet another betrayal of the flesh. “Because he is not to be harmed. He is family.”

With each tiny nub trapped between his forefinger and thumb he started to pull, stretching her ample bosom away from her body. She squirmed and whimpered, her slender back gliding across his masculine chest, but he did not stop. It was a methodical management of pain. “Family of the former king is not immune to my wrath, slave. Only those who kneel before me shall be spared my fury.”

She reached up and took hold of his wrist, but instantly realized the futility. If she pulled at his hands they would pull on her breasts, causing more pain. She could do nothing. “He is not the king’s family.” She whispered. “He’s mine.”

Domiano’s heated breath trailed back down her neck toward the collar bone, his teeth grazing her pale skin. He bit down enough to leave the impression of his bite upon her, nipples still being torment by his dragging grip. “And what is he to you?”

Her breathing was low and she gasped with every twinge of pain. Her hips arched, and she could feel the stout length of his manhood beneath his pants as she grinded back. “Please…stop.”

“Answer the question.” He hissed, pinching her nipples hard.

She cried out and tried to pull away, which only delivered more pain. She had to force herself to stand still, though the quiver that ran through her entire body made such a trial difficult. She clenched her fists and closed her eyes; doing everything she could to ignore the pain.

“Now, little hole, how is this man related to you?”

It took her a moment to answer, stuck on his addressing of her as little hole. The pinch of his fingers was enough to bring her back into reality, and she gasped. “He is my father’s brother. He is my uncle!”

“Uncle?” Domiano released the pressure, letting her breasts settle once more in their natural position. He scooped them into his rough hands and began an enthusiastic knead of the plump flesh. “And how did he become a chancellor?”

She almost let the words my king escape her lips, but was quick enough to rephrase. “My husband gave him the position as a wedding present to me.”

“How fortunate for him.” Domiano’s sarcastic observation drew a small laugh from Triarius. “But that won’t be enough of a reason to allow him to live.”

His caressing of her breasts made her coo with moans. She was so ashamed of her reaction to his molestation of her, but could not deny its power. “I beg you, my king. Please, show mercy.”

He moved away from her, his hands the last thing to leave and making sure to give a sharp squeeze to her bosom before releasing the grip. His strong stride was that of a warlord; domineering and powerful. He moved to a table nearby and took from it a large and very ornate hourglass. He returned to where she stood, and stepped between her and the hanging chancellor. “And what would you sacrifice for this mercy you beg from me?”

She felt a shudder run through her body, the memories of him inside of her, fucking her, invaded her surface thoughts. She knew where this was going by the devious and lustful look in his eyes. Her gaze started to lower, but quickly remembered his command and remained locked on his. “Anything you desire.”

“Excellent.” He bent at the waist and placed the hourglass onto the ground, its thin stream of sand leaking from the full top into the empty bottom. “I desire your modesty to be sacrificed, little slave. You have until this hourglass empties to swallow his seed. You may use only your mouth, though if your lips are around his penis you may use your hands to help.”

Her confusion was easy to see and, even though her mouth hung open, no words came out.

“You should probably hurry. Time is wasting.”

Domiano watched her bewildered green eyes turn to her hanging uncle. The chancellor’s gaze was so beaten and drained that he could not even show the horror that Domiano was certain filled him. His body, criss-crossed with slashes from the whip, tensed but there was no strength to do anything else.

Talonina turned a pleading look, but found no sympathy in the dark eyes of her new master. She moved to her uncle and patted his cheek softly. Memories of her childhood came racing back—times so much better than these. The circus, the joust, and a hundred other events he had taken her too rushed in. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, and before he could manage to even murmur his disapproval, she lowered to her knees.

Domiano’s mind was mesmerized by her lithe body. She knelt there at his waist, her silk stockings clinging to her legs and accentuating her beauty while the rest of her flesh was bare and exposed for all to see. She was eye level with the chancellor’s limp penis, and seemed to regard it with hesitation. Domiano’s ebon gaze swirled with diabolical hunger.

She took the flaccid length in her soft hand and brought the weak head up to her mouth. Soft kisses greeted it. After a half dozen kisses showered the head she parted her painted lips and brought it inside.

Domiano watched as the chancellor, her uncle, was now the one starting to fill with disgrace. There were very few things that he could think of that felt as good as a woman’s warm mouth devouring the length of his cock, and apparently, the uncle shared this taste. He moved to get a better view from the side, and saw that he was correct. The chancellor’s once lifeless cock was starting to grow inside his niece’s mouth. She wasn’t used to sucking on one so large, and he could tell this by the distance she put between her lips and his stomach.

Talonina’s small hand took a hold of her uncle’s shaft at the base, and with the tight grip of her soft lips began to suck him off. Her tongue swirled around the stiff head as she pushed it into her throat, though not very deep. She kept her teeth wide, though her lips tight, and used her saliva to glaze his thick member.

“You are taking far too long.” Domiano said from the side. “You’ll never make it at his rate.”

She whimpered around him, but really couldn’t argue. Her mouth was simulating the use of her pussy, and even though her experience in the bedchamber was extremely limited, she knew that she was never fucked as slow as she was sucking his cock. She would have to move faster if she was to save his life.

Domiano grinned as he watched her increase her pace, her cheeks filling and indenting quickly with each insertion and withdraw of his shaft. His own cock was rock hard as he watched her, and he bit at his lower lip with the anxiety an animal shows before pouncing upon the prey.

Talonina whimpered around the plunging cock as a thin line of pre-cum laced her tongue. The salty spew caused her eyes to water, but she dared not stop. She pushed on through it, swallowing quickly as her lips worked with a starved fury. She could hear him moaning, and knew by the stiffness of his shaft that he could be coaxed into release.

“Use your other hand.” Domiano said from his viewpoint. “Stroke his scrotum. It will quicken the process.”

She heard his words and heeded them, reaching between the chancellor’s weak thighs to cup his balls. The heavy sacks were hot in her palm, and her deft fingers caressed the sensitive flesh with an almost loving touch, all the while her mouth demolishing the length of his shaft within the slick recesses.

Domiano could see the eyes of the chancellor and he could tell he was close. The new king had fucked enough women and slaves in front of a mirror to recognize the look of a man who was about to climax, and the time was mere moments away. He reached down and shifted the stout length of his hidden rod, the gentle touch to his cock enough to send minute bolts of pleasure soaring through him.

He was right.

Talonina’s startled gasp around the dipping cock foretold the explosion of sperm that gushed inside of her mouth. She pushed him completely into her throat and swallowed vigorously to consume every drop of hot seed. One of her hands squeezed his scrotum while the other clenched the base of his devoted penis, milking the length of his release.

Once entirely drained she pulled the angry cock from her now swollen lips. Slowly she stood, wiping any residue from her mouth, refusing to look into her uncle’s eyes. Talonina turned, and brought the dark gaze of her new King into view.

Domiano’s lust could not be ignored, and the heat that emanated from him was a testament to the brutal passion he would soon unleash. He stepped toward her, closing the distance quickly, until there was nothing more than a hair’s breadth between them.

“Well done, little slave. Now get to my bed.”

Rule of the New King.

2008-02-07T12:22:52Z

It took several days to establish an actual military rule inside of Burthian. The previous king’s crest, a silver hawk soaring through a field of star-filled blue, was replaced with the howling wolf of Domiano. A vast majority of Cacerania’s soldiers were easily absorbed into Domiano’s army, and those who opposed were gathered in the town square to be publically executed as an example for any who sought further resistance. The tactic worked, and soon all were assimilated.

Domiano spent most of that time exploring the huge fortress of a castle. The highest ranking chamberlain of the previous regime was converted to Domiano’s rule under the threat of the sword, and was more than willing to act as a tour guide for the new King. It took some time, mostly due to Domiano’s thoroughness, to completely survey the monstrous edifice, but in the end he was thankful that it took so long. There was much within the castle that could be used to his advantage.

The end of his assessment brought him to the queen’s personal room. It was a fairly large chamber that was filled with an assortment of wardrobes and armoires along the walls, as well as a massive vanity that could seat half a dozen comfortably with all able to see the mirrors. Two huge arching windows were against the wall opposing the door, and the light from the morning sun poured in to bathe the room with its warmth and radiance.

The queen stood in the room, looking inquisitively at a pair of gowns that were draped across a small lounge. He had told her that she was being moved to one of the tower rooms and that she needed to decide what to take with her. He would only allow her two bags, and for a woman who needed a room as large as the one he stood in to keep all of her belongings, the decision had to be tough. She was so involved in the process that she didn’t even notice that he entered.

A lustful swirl filled his dark eyes as he appraised her. The peach gown that she wore was sheer enough so that, with the sunlight behind her, he could see the lush contours of her body clearly. The swell of her ass as her back naturally arched in her thoughtful stance, along with the taut little nipples that poked at the diaphanous material, made the slumbering shaft inside his breeches start to bulge. The very tip of his tongue peeked out to moisten the corner of his mouth, which had gotten suddenly dry.

“A difficult decision, no doubt.”

The sound of his voice slashing through the silence of the room caused her to startle, her emerald eyes snapping to him as her hand came to her bosom. It took a moment for her to breathe again, and she turned back to her gowns. “I didn’t hear you enter.”

“I know.” His voice was even.

“Most would knock.”

He let the words hang in the air for a long minute, and then stepped forward, some garments off to the side catching his eye. “Why would I knock on a door inside of my own castle?”

She picked up one of the gowns and turned her back to him, striding across the room to where one of the bags laid open. “It is a common courtesy to knock before entering into a room that is not yours.”

“That is where you are mistaken.” He said with a grin. “All of these rooms are mine.”

She didn’t respond. She carefully placed the gown squarely into the case and then smoothed it down. When she turned back to face him, she was startled to find him holding one of her garments. “What are you doing?”

The silky article felt good against his fingers as he ran them along its length. His eyes, dark pools of cunning desire, were locked on her though. “What is this?”

She narrowed her eyes, obviously not used to having her questions ignored. There was a moment when it looked like she would argue the matter, but then her expression faded into a hopeless sigh as she realized who she was dealing with. “A stocking. It is a stocking.”

“You wore these yesterday.”

The discussion of a woman’s undergarments was far beyond the point of appropriate, and the offense was clearly seen on her pretty face. To say that she wore anything beneath her dress in such a bold statement would suggest that he had seen them, which was improper. But then she remembered the humiliation upon the throne –the throne that belonged to her husband, who had died that day—and a keen shame filled her eyes, which quickly fell to the floor.

“No.” He snapped, pulling her eyes back up. “I told you about looking away.”

She sucked in a deep breath as she watched his obsidian gaze, and then slowly nodded. “Yes. I wore those yesterday.”

He pulled them tight, stretching them to the limit. After relaxing the stocking he then brought it to his face and rubbed it gently across his cheek. “Very soft. The women of my land don’t wear such things.”

“Imagine that.”

He ignored her venom as he crossed the room, closing the distance between them. “Do you like wearing them?” He watched her carefully, and saw the confusion in her eyes. The question, seeking her opinion, had thrown her off balance a bit.

“Um, no. Not particularly. They are a bit constricting.”

Domiano nodded, now standing beside her. “A shame.”

“What?”

He extended his arm and swirled the flimsy stocking out to trail behind the path of his hand. He motioned around her head, and the gauzy piece draped around her shoulders. “I’ve changed my mind. You shall wear these leggings, and nothing else. I’ll see to it that you have a wide assortment to choose from.”

She gasped, the shake of her head bouncing her auburn locks around her. “But…I said I don’t like them!”

“I know. You have filled that case with all the lovely attire of a lady and a noble woman. The problem is that you are no longer of such status. You are mine. You will do as I command and obey my orders completely. You are no longer a wife and no longer a queen. You are just…mine.” The low growl in his voice told of his earnestness, though he couldn’t help but grin at the sight of her frustration.

She hissed at him, reared back, and sent her open palm flying for his face.

“A terrible decision.” His words were calm, and even though he could have defended against her attack, he instead let her connect solidly with his face. To his amusement, she yelped when she hit him, and pulled back her hand to shake the pain away. He didn’t show any mirth, though. Only rage. She was fearful when she met his eyes, and turned to flee, but he was instantly on her. He pushed her forward into the lounge so that she was forced over the back of it, bent at the waist. She struggled, but his warrior’s strength kept her at bay. He yanked up the length of her gown so vigorously that he heard it rip, but didn’t much care. With her lower half now exposed he sent his hand forward, swatting her hard. Her ass, thighs, and even her pussy a few times, were spanked with a strict detail. She whimpered and cried as her arms flailed, reaching back futilely to stop him.

“Please…no…”

“You are not allowed to refuse me, little slave. What would make you think that you are allowed to assault me?” His low purr had returned, and was heard throughout the rapid slap of her flesh.

“I’m…I’m sorry. Please!”

“Sorry about what?”

“I’m sorry I hit you!”

The hand came down twice, once on the inside of each thigh. “And who am I?”

Unfortunately she didn’t answer, and again the hump of her backside, now coated in an angry red, was slapped half a dozen times in rapid succession.

“Who am I?”

“The King!” She screamed.

“Whose king?”

“Mine! You are my king!”

With one hand he spread the swell of her ass, fully exposing the pretty pink bulb of her mound to him, and with the other he pushed a pair of thick, warrior fingers deep into the recesses of her pussy. Her gasp told him that she couldn’t breathe, and while one of her small hands held onto the back of the lounge, the other frantically beat the cushions along the back. He plunged clear to the third knuckle and then held the stout digits within her, allowing her to roll her hips and adjust to the painful stretching of her inner walls.

To his surprise, she did. The tight grip of her core adapted to his occupancy, and he also noticed that her sheath was naturally moist. “What is this?” His asked sardonically. “A betrayal of the flesh?”

“No.” She whimpered. “I…I can’t…please…”

Slowly he pulled back his fingers, seeing their glazed length come into view as they withdrew from her. At the tips he reversed direction, once again sending them inside of her. Her gasp caused his cock to swell uncomfortably inside of his clothing, and he smiled. He bent down and lavished her beaten backside with kisses all across the marred flesh, fingers starting a smooth and continuous motion in and out of her core.

He felt her relax beneath him, the painful strain of her muscles easing to settle with the soothing and gentle exploration of her womanhood. She still clutched the back of the lounge and her breath continued to be ragged, but her legs and ass were calm and free.

“It seems you very much can, little slave. All the screaming and fighting in the world won’t help you when your body gets wet at the touch of my hand.”

Her gasp was her only response.

The fingers withdrew completely, tearing another startled wheeze from her lips. His arm across the small of her back kept her locked in the uncovered position, and fully open to him. He bent down, his warm breath wafting over her flesh, down the arch of her ass, and over the span of her pussy.

She struggled, whimpering again, clawing at the upholstery of the lounge. She reached back to try and pull the length of the gown down to cover her, but a nudge of his elbow was enough to defeat her.

The tip of his tongue extended, licking across the moist slit of her mound. She lurched forward, but the back of the lounge was unyielding, and held her in place. Again he licked at her, and then again, before pushing forward so that his tongue could spear the wet flesh and push inside of her. The tangy flavor of her core filled his mouth, even more so when he pushed his lips against her open crevice to deliver a deep kiss, tongue fully in.

“Stop!” She screamed. “You…you have to stop.”

His tongue quickly started to invade her, fucking her very much like his cock had when they first met. His lips spread her creamy slit wide, and the deft lash of his tongue licked the whole of her inner sanctum. She squirmed and tried to escape, but his strength was too much, forcing her helpless beneath the assault of his mouth. He growled and moaned into her pussy, devouring the soaked flesh.

To his surprise his writhing tongue was flooded with the heady flavor of her orgasm. He felt her quaking shudder beneath his strength and heard her gasps turn into strained moans of unexpected pleasure. He consumed her unforeseen release with a ravaging hunger. He removed his hold of her back to bring both arms around so that he could take handfuls of her ass in his iron grip. His mouth unleashed a penetrating fury that tore another orgasm from her, and then another, and then a string of rich releases. She tried to pull away but lacked the strength, and instead fell into the raging appetite of her captor.

When he pulled away from her she yelped, but moaned again when she felt his hand on her ass, holding her steady as he stood once more. With a yank of his breeches he freed the stout length of his cock, and with the aid of his hand, drug the plum-head down the length of her saturated hole.

“Yes.” She moaned, spreading her thighs, opening herself up to him.

And that brought it all to a standstill.

He stopped, the tip of his shaft still putting pressure on the exposed slit, but not plunging into her more-than-willing cleft. “Yes?”

She turned a look over her shoulder at him, and while her naivety and innocence could be seen in her blushing cheeks, her eyes showed a lustful storm brewing inside of her. “Fuck me.” She whimpered. “Fuck me my king.”

His grin was vicious, and with a strong slap he swatted her ass once more. He carelessly threw her to the side, leaving her in an unceremonious pile upon the lounge. Domiano stalked out with a feral stride, and slammed the door behind him.

Rule of the New King.

2008-02-07T12:21:10Z

The sword easily cut through the flesh, piercing the soft skin that connects the neck to the collar, and sank deep enough to spear the heart. Blood seeped from the lethal incision, instantly flooding the chest of the soon-to-be-dead. He was King Cacerania, ruler of Burthian.

Domiano could see the life beginning to fade from his eyes as he stood above the knelt king, gauntlets clutching the hilt of the buried sword tightly. The king hadn’t expected to die. He expected victory; the same victory he had found against so many other opponents who had tried to conquer his land. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t find victory today. He would only find death.

The barren battlefield of the southlands, a huge span of desolate field that was the place where most came to engage in such macabre, was littered with bodies; some of Domiano’s, most of Cacerania[‘s. Domiano’s flag, a vicious wolf’s head howling upon a blood red field, began to raise along the corpse laden grounds, declaring him victorious.

Domiano, though, did not regard the surroundings. He was far more focused on the last remaining moments of his adversary. The war between his army and the kingdom of Burthian had lasted more than two years, and as death swooped in to claim his nemesis, he couldn’t help but feel a small tinge of disappointment, as though he were losing someone close to him.

They couldn’t have looked more different. Cacerania was a muscular, broad-shouldered king with shoulder length brown hair and a full, well kept beard. Domiano’s hair was as black as a raven’s wing, and his handsome visage was free of beard and mustache. While the king of Burthian’s armor was red and gold, the warlord Domiano wore black and silver. Where they were most different, though, was not in their appearance, but their soul. Cacerania was a kind and just king who sought peace and fairness. He was a noble king to his people. Domiano couldn’t have been farther from this. He was a warlord, one bent on conquest and destruction. His company had grown over the last few years, adding veteran soldiers with each new victory, until it stood as a fearsome power, as declared upon the field of battle.

He gripped the hilt again, and with a powerful upward yank, pulled the sword free of the dead king’s body. Blood emerged in thick gouts, pouring like buckets from the wound. Lifelessly, Cacerania slumped to the ground, dead.

“No!”

The feminine scream echoed into his mind as though rupturing from a dream into reality. Domiano turned to regard the woman, but already had a sense as to who it was. Talonina was the seventeen year old wife of Cacerania. She had been married to him for three years, the actual ceremony residing on the same day that the king formally challenged Domiano to war. He had gone to witness the service under a banner of immunity placed by the king himself, though this did not keep the new queen from cursing him in front of everyone, as well as spitting in his face.

He had done nothing at the time, maintaining a collected composure, but had promised to pay her back for the insult. It would be her time soon.

She fell to her knees at the side of the dead king, weeping hysterically over his corpse. With the way she landed it pushed her skirts up, exposing the supple length of her young legs, which were becoming stained with blood and dirt. Her long auburn hair was bound in a tight and thick braid that swept down to her backside. The natural color of her hair accentuated the sparkling emerald of her eyes and pale complexion of her flesh. She was young and innocent and naïve. That would all change soon.

“My lord.” It was Triarius, Domiano’s second in command. “The war is over, lord. Victory is ours.”

Domiano watched the queen for a moment longer, an eager and vengeful look compelling his dark gaze, before turning to speak over his shoulder. “Gather the deserters and absorb them. Kill any who resist. Get the injured back to the infirmary and collect the dead for rights.”

“And the queen?” Triarius’ voice was low.

“Have her cleaned up and brought back to me.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The castle that Cacerania resided in was a masterwork edifice that boasted a four story main complex with half a dozen towers surrounding it. It was the castle of a king; Domiano had no doubt of that. As he was ushered through the capita city all in his path found a knee, their allegiance now to him. The capital guard, who that morning were sworn to Cacerania, were now just as devoted to him. Domiano was the new king of Burthian, and the ruling creed of the kingdom declared all within -- citizen and military-- pay homage and allegiance to the king. Whether that king was in place due to lineage or usurpation meant nothing.

Talonina was brought into the throne room where Domiano sat, accompanied by a pair of soldiers. Her gown was a combination of greens, ranging from deep forest to soft mint, and her wrists, fingers, and earlobes were adorned with jewels, as was her throat. The neckline of the gown scooped low, showing off a dangerous amount of cleavage. There was no doubt in Domiano’s mind that this gown had been made by the former king so that he could indulge in the appetizing presence of his young wife.

The guards brought her to the foot of the dais that raised the throne off the main floor, and saluted Domiano before turning and heading back to their posts at the entrances of the room.

His dark eyes were locked on her, scaling the curves of her body with appreciation and desire. She was beautiful; there was no doubt of that. Cacerania had done well with this one. And Domiano did not care that she looked at him with a scathing hatred. She would learn how to divert that raw anger into something far more powerful.

“Do you remember the day of your wedding?” He asked evenly. And as he had expected, the emotion overwhelmed her.

Her eyes began to fill with tears as she lowered them to the floor.

“No.” The word wasn’t yelled, but it was said in a harsh enough tone to express the gravity of it, and her eyes snapped up to his. “You do not get to hide from me. You will keep your eyes on me.”

It appeared like she was trying to swallow a lock, but nodded.

“You spit on me that day. You cursed me before the people of your kingdom. You called me the offspring of demon and swine and then you reached within yourself and spat upon me. Do you remember?”

Those tears of grief were joined by tears of fear, her emerald eyes becoming large and doe-like in their terror. She swallowed again, this time just as hard, and gave another nod.

“I know you do. I am sure that you and your maidens laughed at my expense afterwards, which is understandable. Your kingdom had repelled arrogant conquerors for generations before, why would you fear me, right?”

She said nothing. He could see that she had to physically force her eyes to stay on him by the way her head kept trying to turn to the side. The discomfort was thick.

“At first I was just going to kill you.” The suggestion brought a sharp gasp from her mouth and a hand to her bosom. “But then I realized that you will serve a far greater purpose alive. I know you, Talonina. I had my men do their research and we found out some very interesting things about you. I know that you are the daughter of a priest who spent a majority of his life roaming the countryside, spreading the word. I know that you spent your life drifting from one stable or barn to another, trying to find sleep in hay that wasn’t filthy with dung or piss, and I would wager that you spent most nights dreaming of a life filled with dresses and jewelry.” His obsidian gaze narrowed, though his lips spread into a vile grin. “Much like the one you have here.”

She brought her hands to her mouth to quiet her whimpers, though her sobbing eyes, with tears flowing from them to race across her cheek, were locked on him. “Why do you say these things?” she whispered through her fingers.

“Because, Talonina, I offer you a choice. You see, drawing my sword and running you through would end your suffering, which would do me no good. I want you to suffer. I want you to writhe with angst and discomfort. With that said, here are your options. If you so decide, I will have my men escort you to the gates of the city and remove you entirely from the capital and any cities within my kingdom to roam the surrounding countryside alone.” It was the first time he had referred to the kingdom as his, and he liked the sound of it.

This gasp was just as sharp as the first. She parted her hands from her lips. “But...but how could I survive? I cannot hunt or build shelters!”

“This is very true. Perhaps, then, you’ll take advantage of the second option.” He stood from the huge, plush-seated throne and stepped to the side, extending his hand to motion toward it. “Your other choice is to lift your skirts and show me your ass and cunny as you climb this throne so I can mount you.”

She was utterly speechless, staring at the dark-eyed warlord with disbelief. She scoffed at him. “I would never!”

His voice was even. “Guards.”

The pair that ushered her into the room, each now at opposing entryways, started toward her with a rattle of chain armor.

“Wait!” She said as her head whipped from side to side. “You can’t…”

“Enjoy the countryside.” Domiano said. “I hear the landscape is beautiful this time of year, save for the wolves, bears, and bobcats.”

“I won’t survive! I don’t know how to!”

“Take care, Talonina.”

The guards held a look of solemn obedience. They were going to literally throw her out of the city, and did a fine job portraying this upon their faces.

Right as they got to her Domiano could see the panic and desperation consuming the queen’s gaze, and a wicked grin came over his lips as he watched her turn back to him, taking fistfuls of skirt.

She lifted the silken material quickly, exposing long, young, hose-clad legs. He lifted his hand and motioned for the guards to halt, though only did so when they were close enough to be able to reach out and take hold of her. She continued to lift the skirts, the panic inside of her twisting into degradation. The hem of the skirt cleared the frilly trim of the garters that kept her mint-hued stockings in place and continued up, until the soft reddish curls of her woman’s sanctum came into view.

Domiano stared at her exposed mound, a primal hunger filling in his gaze. His eyes traveled up the length of her once more, finding her fearful eyes, and turned to the side once more to offer her the throne.

Another rock seemed to be swallowed, and slowly she started forward, her tears beginning to dry as a calm acceptance came over her. She stepped up on to the dais and came to the throne.

As she climbed the throne he watched her, exuding a primordial heat that spoke of his desire. The chair was deep enough – and she was small enough—so that she could fit inside of it on all fours at an angle. She did so, her hands and knees bracing her, keeping her rear-end elevated and arched.

He moved behind her, a simple undoing able to free his stout erection. He slid between her feet and felt them stiffen, and his hands came to rest on the pert curve of her ass. “Was the king the only one?”

“Only one?” She whispered.

Rather than answer with words he slid his hand down the crevice of her backside until the tips of his fingers traced the length of her slit. She tightened herself, becoming rigid as though frozen. His fingers made a thorough trail along her pussy, the tips knifing in between her sealed lips to graze the inner entry. He could hear her labored exhale, and found pleasure in her anguish.

“Yes.” It was a gasp of an answer.

The fingers departed and he bent at the waist, deep enough so that he was eye-level with her exposed core. The soft pink folds were so perfect in their innocents, a young and vibrant bulb of an entrance.

“Since you are a proponent of such foul expressions, I thought it would only be fitting if…” He let the words hang before drawing upon his saliva and spitting into the face of her pussy.

She lurched forward, but it was to no avail. The chair was solid and offered her no passage. She could have maybe tried to climb it if not for his hand on her back which kept her pinned. He lifted up, his free hand smearing the spit across her pussy, bringing it to damp moistness. She was ready, and with one strong thrust he speared her soaked gates and drove deep inside her.

She screamed and jolted with the force of the entry. Her fingers dug into the arm of the chair and her mouth instantly dried up.

He hadn’t expected her to be so tight, and considered it yet another victory over the former king of Burthian. He let the girth of his cock settle inside of her, allowing her small flesh to expand around him.

Once it did, and she started to relax, he unleashed his wrath upon her. As a soldier his body was laced with hard muscle meant for wielding sword and shield, and the power of his muscle was put upon her. The epic thrusts that rapidly filled her with his cock over and over again stole her breath. The violent slap of flesh echoed within the hallowed chamber as his hips collided with her backside, and was loud enough to drown out her painful whimpers.

He groaned with pleasure as his seed began to churn, filling him with that sense of nearness toward the edge of release. His hand, calloused by the constant grip of a hilt, struck her across the ass. “Who is your king?” He asked as he thrust.

“Cacea—.”

Before she could get the entire name out his hand came down again, striking her ass. The brutality of his thrusts increased, the slush of his cock lancing her saturated depths able to be heard. “Who is your king?” he roared.

“You are!” She screamed, her body wracked by the assault. “You are my king!”

“And who is fucking you?” He asked with another slap.

“You are!” She chocked through a gasp. “My king fucks me!”

An eruption of cum spewed inside of her with a colossal thrust that signified finality. She shrieked, clawing to get away from the deep penetration, though it was futile. Domiano held himself there, roaring as he drained his seed within her, hands gripping her backside so hard that her flesh started to turn red.

He drew back, pulling free of her abused sanctum, and he heard her gasp with relief. He moved around her, and due to her positioning he could stand before her, his spent member even with her face.

“Clean it.” He ordered.

She looked up to him with pleading eyes, but found only the cold stare of a warlord. Her eyes fell to the fading, though still thick, serpent between his legs. Again tears started to well in her eyes, but that did not stop her from swaying forward and parting her lips around him. The tangy taste of female startled her. His hand dropped to stroke her hair, almost lovingly, as he felt the warm recesses of her mouth cleansing his length. It only took a moment, and then he drew back, pulling free of her suckling.

“Thank the gods.” She whispered. “It’s over.”

Again he stroked her hair, his voice once more even. “Over? My dear, it has only just begun.”