Lords and Ladies (OPEN)

[Ausus_girl13]

The words falling from Lord Simons lips caused a shiver in Arabelle's form she watched the Lady Protector and when she came near, Arabelle whispered an order in her ear.

The Lady stiffened and glared at Arabelle and marched out of the room, taking her clothes and pride with her. Arabelle smiled wickedly, licking her lips and turning her attention to the man beneath her. She turned in his lap, denying him entrance to her body again, and grinned down at him. Arabelle grabbed the knife from the table and held it to his throat her eyes full of lust and danger.

"I am no man's plaything, my Lord" she breathed into his ear, watching a small drop of blood well up on his collarbone. "You, of all men, should know that." She tilted her head looking at him, licking her lips softly as her sex moved over his, her wetness obvious.
*******************
Antar didn't believe a word of it. Delara was a notorious liar, and he knew it. He continued to finger her, listening as she fought her lust, the whimpers and moans hiding in her throat.

"Let me hear your moans of pleasure Delara. Perhaps at the end of this we can call you a lady again. Mayhap that is a stretch of the word yes?"

He glared down at her, and saw fear in her eyes. He turned from her then and walked away. He moved to sit in front of the fire, pouring another glass of wine, knowing it would go to his head. He sat and stared at her.

Sighing heavily, he stood and moved back to the bed, he reached out and ran his rough calloused hand down her body, leaning over, he curled his hand into her hair and pulled her to his lips for a breathless kiss. Melding their lips together for a moment, he stood pulling her with him. The kiss deepened for a moment. Then he pushed her down to the floor, his hand still knotted deep in her hair.

With as much disdain as he could muster he looked down at her on her knees before him. "You know what to do, ma petite fille"

 

[Wyld52771]

Soryian An'Delar

Soryian An'Delar walked the halls of the great keep, in great irritation. His anger showed clearly on his handsome features, his stride purposeful and almost graceful, his jade green eyes scanning the hallways, as if looking for someone.

He was an imposing figure, wearing well worn studded leather armor, his twin curved swords criss-crossed upon his back. Many scars criss-crossed his arms as well, each one showing a chapter of his life, one consisting of one battle after another. Most of those in recent years had been received in the service of Lord Simons, to whom he was entrusted to be part of his elite bodyguard.

He came to the lower servants quarters, stopping a young boy, likely a page.

"Boy," he said gruffly, but not unkindly, "I seek out Sergeant Xavier...do you have any idea where he can be found?"

"I believe I saw him near the great hall, M'Lord," the child said, looking at Soryian as if in awe.

"Do not call me, M'Lord, young one...like yourself, I am but a servant...I'm not nobility...if one of the nobles hear you speak like that..." He left the implied threat ominously unsaid...at the very least, a flogging would be in order for the lad, and at worst...well, no need to dwell on that.

"I must find Xavier immediately," he said, nodding in thanks to the boy, "remember what I said."

He strode down the long hallway, and before long saw Lord Xavier, who appeared to be just as irritated as he was.

Approaching him, he was barely able to restrain a sneer...it was no secret that Soryian had little love for his commanding officer. Still, he saluted crisply, his fist slapping against his chest as he bowed in mock deference to his superior officer.

"Sergeant Xavier," Soryian said, "May I speak freely?"

Before Xavier could even nod in response, Soryian's words came in a flurry.

"I wish to state a grievance...why was I not informed our Lord has guests, and Royalty at that? I had heard rumor that one of the guests was poisoned....surely we must stand nearby lest this supposed assassin tries again! We would be remiss in our duties to not be close at hand...and an investigation made into the kitchen staff as to how this could have happened..."

 

[monique_minx]

Delara kept her lips in a tight seal as Antar’s fingers continued to stimulate her sex against her will. Her breathing was coming harder and faster though, it was loud and clear to both of them as to what the sensations were causing within her.

"Let me hear your moans of pleasure Delara. Perhaps at the end of this we can call you a lady again. Mayhap that is a stretch of the word yes?"

Delara recoiled as he glared down on her, a soft moan reluctantly strayed from her lips and Antar withdrew, Delara closed her legs quickly at the opportunity. She watched as he poured his drink, covering her body and trying to maintain some semblance of modesty after his onslaught. She was shivering as she slowly sat up properly, shifting to watch him carefully.

He moved towards her then and Delara flinched as his hand curled in her hair and brought her close to him; crushing his mouth to hers as he raised her to stand. She gasped softly into the kiss, her face reddening with the sheer ferocity of Antar’s lust and no sooner had it begun was it over.

Delara was breathless and confused as he pushed her to the ground slowly, she looked up at him with wide pleading eyes. Antar looked upon her with contempt and she winced, wanting to run hard and fast from him. She’d never known him like this before and his words just confirmed the worst thoughts in her mind as to why she found herself in such a position.

"You know what to do, ma petite fille"

Delara whimpered, her bottom lip quivering anxiously as she swallowed hard and prayed for someone to come save her though she knew none could from Antar; not even Xavier. She quickly tore the gut wrenching fear away from herself with a silent scolding at the simpering wreck Antar had made of her. Her expression quickly contorted into a glowering stare, she forgot all else and looked up at Antar with the stern look of a noblewoman. Naked and bared though she might be, Delara was certainly not quick to give into such demands; not even from Antar.

“I know what to do…of course that doesn’t imply that I will Highness…” Delara said icily as she emphasised ‘Highness’ with such poison in her tone.

“You are not the one I kissed while the church bells rang that day…” Delara whispered in a pained, harsh tone designed purely to hurt the royal prince standing in front of her.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Lord Simons

“You appear to have the better of me, Princess,” Lord Simons conceded, adding, “and it also appears that you soon may have my best.”

As she smiled at his little jest, the General surprised the young royal with a well-controlled twitch of his cock nestled in her wet furrow. Another pull at his muscles, and his cock’s head found Arabelle’s tautened clit.

Her distraction at his little tricks now gained him that slight advantage he sought, and he deftly bucked beneath, tossing her hips upwards and to the side as his hand gripped her wrist. A quick twist as she flopped over on her back, and the dagger was again his to wield. Before she could regain her footing, his free hand was clamped tightly around her slender throat, his fingers pressing in on her carotid, bringing her ever closer to a faint. He held her firmly as he straddled her hips and now could show her the hone of his blade.

“Blood flows both ways, my pretty little Princess,” he laughed as he ran the tip of the dagger down the middle of her chest from throat to breast line, leaving a fine pink welt as a mark of its passage.

He circled the tip around the outline of her left breast, and began to spiral slowly in, letting the point continue to leave a transient mark of its path. He pressed harder with the blade as he traced her areola until its tip found her nipple.

She was a royal, and he knew well that he must leave no mark to be discovered, but he knew just as well that no one inspecting her would find the wound he aimed to leave. He hooked her nipple from underneath with the sharp point and lifted her breast until a little cut let her flesh fall free of the knife.

“Now it will be my turn to taste a drop of your scarlet milk,” Lord Simons threatened, and he pinned her arms as he dove to her breast.

His lips engulfed her swollen nipple and the drop of thick blood that had oozed from the wound and drew it hard into his mouth. His tongue roughly stroked the drop and tasted it before he began to suckle at her tit as an infant demanding milk. A few drops drawn, and he slowly released his grip on her nipple, letting the blood stay on his lips as the nipple went free.

“Very sweet, indeed, Arabelle,” he mocked, “perhaps you’d like to taste it yourself.” And he brought his lips to hers to give her the flavor of herself.

 

[Bsquad]

Xavier stepped out of Lady Aveline's room, closing the door and nodding to the two guards there. He had ordered guards to watch her for now, but he had his own duties to attend to. He turned his head and cast his violet gaze down the hallway as he headed towards the guard's chambers to discuss matters. His ponty tailed crimson hair shifted slightly as he walked along, the loose fitting gi billowing behind him as he walked. White lower black upper, he glanced around as he heard the approaching footsteps behind him. He slowly turned and looked back seeing Soryian approaching quickly. The Kensai's eyes narrowed ever slightly, but he stopped, leaving his arms crossed casually before him as the other warrior approached him. Xavier nodded at the other soldier's question and before he could even say a word, Soryian started talking quickly.

"I wish to state a grievance...why was I not informed our Lord has guests, and Royalty at that? I had heard rumor that one of the guests was poisoned....surely we must stand nearby lest this supposed assassin tries again! We would be remiss in our duties to not be close at hand...and an investigation made into the kitchen staff as to how this could have happened..."

Xavier waited silently for the other to finish, his left hand reaching up to touch the cross shaped scar on his left cheek as he gazed at the lower level warrior. Xavier knew that Soryian didn't like him, but the Kensai had yet to discover just why that was...he hadn't considered it to be much of an issue, the Lord trusted Soryian and had brought him into the castle's staff, just as he had brought Xavier in to be the head of his personal guard. Xavier nodded at the questions the other had thrown at him.

"You will have to ask the Lord just why you were not made aware of all of his guests Soryian. We are not privy to all of his decisions, unless of course you consider yourself more knowledgeable than the Lord Commander of the Empire's armies?" Xavier said in an even voice. He looked down the hall and the entrance to Lady Aveline's room, then back to Soryian, nodding for the other warrior to follow him. Xavier began walking, his left hand resting on the hilts of his two curved katana blades. his right holding the crook of his left arm. It was a casual stance, but he could draw both blades in a second, one normal, the other reverse stance without thought...the poisoning had put him on guard.

"The Lord knew about Lady Aveline for some time, as for the Crown prince and princess...that is a suprise to me as well Soryian. Royals do what royals do. And we are sworn to guard the Lord Commander wheither we enjoy the actions beyond our control or not." Xavier said simply, glancing over to Soryian.

"An investigation into the serving and kitchen staff would be possible, and wise. But this attack seems to be...clumsy. Lady Aveline still draws breath, and she will recover. Lord Simons is fine, and unharmed, just like the rest of the guests. Someone has decided Aveline is a threat, and precautions will be taken. Her food shall be tested, and loyal men will be guarding her until she returns to her family." Xavier explained, looking out one of the large windows into the darkness of the light, the expensive glass mirrored his reflection as he stood there, his thoughts drifting to Delara, and worrying about just what Antar was doing to her...

"We must be on guard Soryian...these nobles, they do as they wish...playing their games and doing as they will." He said absently, gazing into the reflection of his own eyes.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

“You are not the one I kissed while the church bells rang that day…”

Antar heard these words slip from the woman kneeled before him. He held his anger in check and just grinned down at her. He slowly ran the back of his hand over her face and looked down at her tenderly for a moment, letting her see the range of emotion that he felt for her. But then he closed it off and grabbed his glass of wine throwing it down his throat. He turned from her then, leaving her kneeling on the carpet.

She looked so.. angry and soft all at the same time. He groaned with his need.

"Lady Delara if you intend to return to your homeland you will do so with my permission and the permission of my Empress mother. If you wish to remain here, you will do so at my whim. Do you understand?"

He strode back to her side and pulled her up by her hair, fingering it's soft texture.

"You need me, to help you get out of this mess you have created my dear. I am the only one in the country who knows who you truly are. And yes, I am the only one in the country with enough power to pull it off." He watched her eyes as the meaning behind his words sank in and he continued, " Furthermore, with the poisoning of your current mistress, I will be adding you to the retinue of my servants. You will be with me at all times. And if you are not with me you will be with my sister, is that clear?"

He brought her lips to his in that moment making it very clear that she didn't have much of a choice and the decision had been made.

*******​

Arabelle gasped as the knife dug at her breast and that first sting of pain washed over her. She watched Lord Simon's obvious pleasure at his work and she struggled a little as he pinned her and took that first, ever so sweet tug on her breast, the stinging only a delicious little torment as he licked and sucked at her nipple.

She whimpered beneath him for a moment before staring wide-eyed as he brought his lips to hers, she could taste herself on those lips, so wet and warm, she slid her tongue into his mouth and tasted him again. She moaned a little when he broke the kiss to look down at her, she wiggled within his grasp, wanting so much more.

Arabelle bucked her hips under him bringing his lips forward to hers again as she sought another kiss, biting his lower lip sharply, and listening to his own intake of breath at the tiny bit of pain she was able to deliver to him.

 

[monique_minx]

Delara

Delara was unnerved as Antar grinned down at her, she wondered why he wasn’t furious with her and his tender brush against her face almost made her flinch. She looked on as he washed his throat with the last of his wine and made his way back to where she still knelt in shock.

"Lady Delara if you intend to return to your homeland you will do so with my permission and the permission of my Empress mother. If you wish to remain here, you will do so at my whim. Do you understand?"

Delara groaned as he pulled her up by her hair and her own hand flew to cover his in an attempt to relieve the pressure as she stumbled. Unfortunately he was right; whatever she wanted had to go through him.

She sighed and finally responded with gritted teeth, “Yes Highness, I understand.”

"You need me, to help you get out of this mess you have created my dear. I am the only one in the country who knows who you truly are. And yes, I am the only one in the country with enough power to pull it off. Furthermore, with the poisoning of your current mistress, I will be adding you to the retinue of my servants. You will be with me at all times. And if you are not with me you will be with my sister, is that clear?"

Delara tried to keep the horrified look off her face at the thought of being completely at the mercy of the twins but she didn’t quite manage it. Before she could retort or disagree however, his lips pressed to hers and he made it quite clear that he didn’t expect an answer. His word meant everything to everyone here and she plainly meant nothing at all. She whimpered into the kiss and gasped as he broke off at last.

“What do you want from me Antar? To make your bed and run around behind you like a lapdog servant? I won’t bed you or your sister.” She whispered, her jaw set as the noble inside her made a distinctive decision and Lady Delara refused to waver in it.

 

[Wyld52771]

"You will have to ask the Lord just why you were not made aware of all of his guests Soryian. We are not privy to all of his decisions, unless of course you consider yourself more knowledgeable than the Lord Commander of the Empire's armies?"

"Not at all, Xavier," Soryian said walking with the man, his omission of Xavier's ranking title an obvious, yet minor slight against his commanding officer. "I know the Lord's will is his own, and his...affairs...remain private, and we aren't privy to all things. Yet, in this situation, we had best be on guard. We have to be aware of the comings and goings, especially with royalty on the premises."

"The Lord knew about Lady Aveline for some time," Xavier replied, "as for the Crown prince and princess...that is a suprise to me as well Soryian. Royals do what royals do. And we are sworn to guard the Lord Commander wheither we enjoy the actions beyond our control or not."

Soryian nodded. He didn't like the man, but he did respect that Xavier was devoted to his task, although at times, Soryian disagreed with his methods.

"An investigation into the serving and kitchen staff would be possible, and wise. But this attack seems to be...clumsy. Lady Aveline still draws breath, and she will recover. Lord Simons is fine, and unharmed, just like the rest of the guests. Someone has decided Aveline is a threat, and precautions will be taken. Her food shall be tested, and loyal men will be guarding her until she returns to her family," Xavier explained.

"I agree that the poisoning was quite inept...I just don't want the would-be assassin to hone his skill to perfection with more practice," Soryian said, "Imagine the scandal that would be caused if one of the Lord's guesst were to die of poisoning while enjoying the hospitality of his home! Not to mention of something should happen to one of the royal heirs! We could have the whole monarchy crashing down upon us if that happened!"

"We must be on guard Soryian...these nobles, they do as they wish...playing their games and doing as they will," Xavier added, and Soryian couldn't deny he was right.

"Games and intrigue seem to be their forte," Soryian agreed, "and yet, they wish us to protect them, while keeping us in the dark. A daunting task, to say the least..."

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Lord Simons

Lord Simons’ stiffened organ jerked sharply into the Lady’s belly at the sudden twinge of pleasure and pain, and his mouth eagerly pressed more firmly against hers, not so much in spite of the pain as because of it. Yet as he kissed, he held his tongue, not wishing to cede her teeth a meatier morsel than his lip, and held her wrists as well, not wishing to afford them a chance at the blade.

His desire was insistent, though, and the bucking of her hips had given him as much advantage as it gave her. He was forced forward, his mouth to hers, his chest forced against her breasts, his knees his only support. And that was an edge he could exploit.

His feet were free, and, as his weight rested on his knees, he hooked one over each of Arabelle’s thighs. Strength was on his side as well, and slowly, but inexorably he pulled on those castle gates, prying them apart against the lock of her protest. An inch gained, and Lord Simons sprung, swinging a knee from beside her hip into the opening of her thighs. She could fight as she wished, but his domination seemed guaranteed. One knee joined the other, and any benefit of leverage was post to the Lady.

The General held her wrists tightly pinned as he slithered his hips over hers until his thighs were both between her fully-spread legs. His throbbing, blood-engorged cock head was poised at the drapes of her inner sanctum, and he broke from the kiss, from her bite.

“And know it appears I’ll have bested you to take your best,” he laughed as he looked into her eyes and began to thrust his hips forward, pressing his cock against her last defenses.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Arabelle gasped as the Lord pressed forward his advantage. She was no virgin, so there was naught but pleasure. Curling her legs around him, she pulled him deep inside her. She let herself be lost in the sensations of the moment, his hands all over her body, his searing kisses, her soft moans and screaming cries lost in the inky night. He commanded her then, and she let him, she pliantly bent to his unspoken demands and even quicker responded to the spoken ones. Arabelle was his for the night.

~~~​

Arabelle opened her eyes slowly to the cacophony of singing birds, and bright light. She blinked for a moment before realizing where she was, and when she did, she slowly moved to sitting. Her body sore in ways that only a well spent night of sex can create. She moaned softly and looked across the room at a dressed Lord Simons, and the small satisfied smile that played upon his lips. Arabelle smiled softly before wrapping the blanket around herself and standing.

"Lord Simons, I trust that you slept well. Thank you for the evening." A mischievous grin followed these words as she inclined her head slightly and strode towards the dressing room, slipping behind the wall and listening to the soft timbre of laughter on the other side. Allowing her maid to help her dress, she returned quickly to Lord Simons side, standing next to him she could she the little cut on his neck that she had created and she smiled softly to herself, before leaning down and softly licking the neck of the seated man. Grinning at his reaction she stood and held out her hand.

"Voulez-vous le petite dejeuner Monsieur?"

*****​

“What do you want from me Antar? To make your bed and run around behind you like a lapdog servant? I won’t bed you or your sister.”

Antar laughed at her words. He couldn't help it, bringing out her inner noble when she needed. What a manipulative little chit. He peered at her for a moment before shaking his head and pushing her towards the bed.

"You will do as your told" he said softly leaving no room for her protest as she stared at him wide eyed. "And if my sister should desire your company you will indulge her." He quickly stripped as he listened to her attempts to protest, grinning the whole time. He moved to stand before her, his arousal obvious as it nudged her taut belly, he was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Cease your plaints woman. I do not seek to have you, this night. Your attempts to protect yourself have wearied me. But you will warm my bed" Antar easily lifted her then and tossed her onto the soft bed, he crawled next to her, pulling her into his arms, and closed his eyes. He willed himself to be calm. Taking her tonight would be a grave mistake, but she was his; there was plenty of time, besides when they left the next morning she would be with him, no longer in this Lord's keep. This thought made him grin, and his body relaxed next to hers as he drifted off to sleep.

 

[chronicle_tenko]

Hairu's vacation is disturbed.

The sign above the entrance of 'The Wolf Whistle' was as shabby and worn as the rest of the building, but it conveyed the same sense of home away from home to the inhabitants of the small isle. And from just outside the modest establishment a short drunken tune could be heard. The singer was obviously inebriated, but pleasant with an earthy, thick, and deep tone. Snippets of song wafted out beyond the door, until Armina opened it to the familiar laughing voice of her commanding officer.

Hairu sat on a broken stool, balancing it against the bar though it had only two legs left. His mug was more than half cracked open where it had been used as a bludgeon, but it held liquid and so he drank from it. His normally ordered and braided hair stood up in every which way the beard he kept so fastidiously tidy was in disarray with tufts pulled in several directions. More of the silvery pelt that belied his age was visible than he'd let be seen for years, he smiled seeing his young protege and saluted her spilling the rest of his drink. "Oh." He paused remembering her name. "Armina." His laughter filled the otherwise empty room, and behind a swelled, and blackened lid his eyes twinkled. He continued singing then tapping the bar occasionally in tune to his song.

"Oh you'll have to excuse me I'm not at my best.
I've been gone for a week. I've been drunk since I left.
And these so called vacations, Will soon be my death,
I'm so sick from the drink, I need Home for a rest."

He stopped almost looking for any of the men on the floor to take up the next verse. He smiled and attempted to drink any of the remaining dregs in his empty mug before croaking out. "Take me home Armina."

Her words however straightened and sobered his expression immediately. Another mission from Parlasus, this one raiding into the empire itself.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three days later.​

The ship had arrived in the dead of night and the crew of six secured it quickly hiding it on the far coast. There was much work to disguise it before morning and even more in the city. The spy that had sent his letter had said it was urgent, and if the news was true then it certainly was. The woman he and his crew had kidnapped had turned out to be The Lady Delara. And now she was sold into the service of the empire. Parlasus being her fiance wanted her back. An understandable request, so as loath as Hairu was to work for free, he was taking the job on.

He had sent Armina ahead and was staying back to watch for guards as they met with the spy who'd given them the information. He'd adopted the guise of an old farmer, and the bundled sticks at his side while he rested, kept many from asking questions. Simply another peasant working, near the lord's manor. He waited for Armina to return with the new intelligence, it seemed guard patrols had shot up staggeringly high in only the last few hours. And that made his life much more difficult.

 

[Fira]

Scouting for Info. -Armina

Her cloak swirled around her small 5’2” frame, hiding well the two Kukri on each slender hip. She pulled the hood close around her face, not minding being noticed, but preferring to not be remembered. And her features were such that she was always remembered.

She smiled to herself as she returned to where Hairu waited for her report. Whether he would be pleased or not with the information remained to be seen, but putting the poor guard out of his misery after she had obtained the needed information had given her a curious high that she was reluctant to come down from. The look of lust in the guard’s eyes as she had approached with her cloak open, revealing the tight leather armor she preferred, soon turned to one of surprise as the Kukri crossed at his throat. He had been so busy taking in the sight of her body that he had failed miserably in recognizing the danger before it was too late.

She had toyed with him, promising him much for the information she wanted. And in the end, he had lost more than his senses over the exchange. She was certain that the headless body wouldn’t be found before the fire consumed it. She had caught him near the pit used for burning refuge for the city, and when she had finished with him, his body had joined the filth burning there. The head followed shortly after, once she had taken a lock of his hair to add to the braid of other foes that hung at her waist.

She glanced around as she approached Hairu, noting the positions of the rest of the crew. “Good,” she thought to herself critically. “They are blending in rather nicely.” Armina pushed her hood back from her face, her greenish-gold cat-like eyes glittering, her deep chestnut hair still loose about her shoulders and hanging to the middle of her back, the sun setting off the natural reddish highlights. She caught it at the base of her neck and tied it with a piece of leather thong as she squatted next to Hairu as if she were bargaining with him over his bundle of sticks.

“Sir,” she whispered in hushed tones as she fingered the bundle at his side. “The news is good and bad, depending on how you wish to view it.” She went on to tell him of the arrival of the Prince and Princess, the attempted poisoning of one of the other nobles, and the subsequent search for the perpetrator. “So that’s why all the extra guards now,” she concluded with a wicked smile. “Although they will be missing one at their next roll call,” she said, laughing and patting the curved blade on one hip.

 

[Katamari Roller]

CHAK

De Guinne stood with a bow in her hand, smiling, satisfied. She took another arrow from the thin, tall table at her side and rested it against the bow. It was a slow, soft motion, the kind of movement one would expect from an artisan working on a particularly valuable piece of woodwork. That metaphor was not too far from reality. The bow was not more valuable than any other that a peasant may construct for hunting. But De Guinne certainly was a master using it.

CHAK

The arrow once again hit the center of the target standing a hundred feet away. With a smile that had been on her face for the last ten minutes, she rested the bow, making it stand under her hand, and took the jug of wine on the table, drinking a bit of it. The sunshine, the citadel garden, a bow and a target, wine... De Guinne felt truly content for the first time in a week. Since being ordered to care after the royal brats, she had done nothing more than worrying.

She assumed the stance again, and kept practicing. The blonde soldier was wearing tight riding pants, and a white blouse open down to her chest, where her breasts insinuated themselves, while one of the scars on her body showed itself openly. A soft breeze was in the air, and De Guinne felt comfortable letting it slip under her blouse. Combined with the wine, the strain on her muscles, the warmth from the sun... it was an excellent morning exercise for her.

 

[Wyld52771]

Soryian walked into the courtyard. It was early morning, and the staff was already well at work, doing their chores while most of the nobility still slept.

This was his favorite time of the day...when the demands of his duties were diminished, and he could take some time for himself. Still, he wasn't idle...he typically used this time to spar in the courtyard, or practice his sword routines. Today was no different.

For the past few weeks, he'd taken to training some of the younger soldiers in the castle guard who showed promise in swordplay, as a way to fill his morning hours. It was still early, when he walked down to see several of his would-be-students milling about, awaiting his arrival. There were nearly a dozen of them, all were all clad similarly...dark breeches, soft boots, and wooden swords at their belts. They remained unclad from the waist up, the cool morning air causing a few of the more undisciplined to shiver uncomfortably.

Walking before them, he called out, "Good morning, men!"

"Good morning, Master Soryian!" the called out in unison.

"Weapons at the ready," he called out, skipping the pleasantries he normally would have indulged in. The would-be assassination attempt had been much on his mind, and he was in no mood for socializing.

The line of men before him drew the wooden weapons at their belts, at his command.

"Battle stance," he called out to the men before him, and as one, the dropped from the posture befitting a soldier, to a more fluid demeanor...one reserved for killing, not saluting...the stance of a swordmaster.

Soryian drew his two curved wooden swords. They were roughly weighted, balanced and shaped to match his real blades. The men before him awaited the call to attack.

"Talon One, attack!" Soryian cried, and five of the soldiers broke from the line, lunging at their teacher.

The first to reach him was a nimble, redheaded recruit named Ridley, who lunged at him, sword extended, as if expecting to end the fight quickly. Soryian sidestepped gracefully, sticking a leg out, tripping the man, before a backhanded blow to the back of his head felled the soldier.

Two more opponents flanked Soryian, the one on the left delivering a clumsy roundhouse swing, while the one on the right made a steady measured approach. Soryian ducked away from the swing of the first man, which would have smashed into his skull, had he not, and made the man pay with a wicked jab to the sternum with the blunted end of his practice sword, hard enough to stagger him and make him gasp for breath.

Soryian's other blade moved above his head, blocking a vicious blow, and then spun, his free blade whirling around to catch the second opponent in the knee, while the other blade slid off the soldier's to deliver a sharp blow to the ribs.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and lashed back with a leg, striking the man who'd been rushing him in the stomach, and knocking him to the ground with a whoosh of breath escaping him.

Soryian turned, his hands moving with lightning speed, to cross in front of him, deflecting the final soldier's blow, pinning his opponent's blade between his own. The man was larger than he, and more powerful, pushing hard against Soryian's blades, using the full force of his body to drive Soryian back, the tip of the wooden blade, moving closer and close to his chest. He dropped to a knee to absorb the stress, and his opponent, a man named Talador, grinned and grunted, "I have you now!"

Soryian grinned in reply, and suddenly stopped pushing back, using the other man's momentum against him, rolling onto his back. Talador, suddenly with no resisting force, stumbled forward, and was met by Soryian's booted feet, kicking into his stomach and flipping him over the top of the blademaster and onto his back.

Continuing the roll, Soryian was atop the man before he knew what had happened, a wooden blade to his throat. Talador looked angry for a moment, but then grinned in admiration, letting go of the wooden sword he held, and and crying out, "I yield!"

Soryian nodded respectfully and stood, helping the larger man to his feet.

The five opponents he faced slowly made their way back to the line.

"What have you learned today?"

The men remained respectfully silent, and Soryain looked to the first man, who was rubbing the back of his head painfully.

"Always let your opponent make the first move. Oftentimes he will betray a weakness. A counterattack can be just as effective as a first strike."

He looked at the second and third man he'd dispatched. "Your strikes should be precise...an extension of your arm. You are not cutting wheat, men."

Looking at the third man, he added, "Caution is good...you did well to approach with wariness...but you hesitated at a crucial moment. Had you acted more decisively, you might have felled me instead of the other way around."

Looking at the fourth man, he instructed, "You must be light on your feet. You betray your location to those unaware if you tromp towards them like a herd of cattle. Also, be aware of your surroundings. Aside from your heavy-footedness, I saw your shadow moving in behind me because the sunlight illuminated your approach. Your shadow betrayed you."

Finally, he stood before Talador, and grinned, adding, "Finally, never become overconfident...what might seem like a victory can just as easily be snatched away from you...especially if the seeming advantage was a ruse."

The men chuckled, at this, and Soryian called out, "Partner off....Talon One, attack position three. Talon Two, defensive position one."

He turned, and walked over to set the practice blades down, reaching down to grab a goblet of mulled wine one of the servants had brought. He drank deeply, and and sat down to watch the men practice their routines, his mind still coming back to the assassination attempt. Who could be responsible? And was the threat over?

 

[monique_minx]

Delara couldn’t help the near look of shock that crossed her face as Antar merely laughed at what she’d said. She stumbled backwards nervously as he pushed her toward the bed and she whimpered softly, swallowing hard in fear. Her mouth agape and her eyes were huge pools of surprise.

"You will do as your told. And if my sister should desire your company you will indulge her."

Delara shook her head in silent protest and felt the bed hit the back of her knees.

“Don’t do this, I’m not like you or your sister please Antar…I’m still the same girl I was when I was afraid to kiss you…I’m just older, please don’t do this to me!” Delara whined.

"Cease your plaints woman. I do not seek to have you, this night. Your attempts to protect yourself have wearied me. But you will warm my bed."

Delara emitted a small yelp of surprise as he lifted her and grunted as she hit the bed, rolling to the far side and away from him as fast as possible. Still he crawled to her and gripped her tightly, pulling her into his arms. Delara resigned herself to the fact that she would be spending this night naked in Antar’s arms, she blushed brightly at the sensation of his maleness pressing against her back and struggled to focus on anything else; wondering how she would ever get any sleep this night.

When she awoke, it took her more than a moment to remember where she was; she stifled a gasp and her body went rigid as she realized it was Antar’s erection poking at her ass cheek each time she shifted. She gulped and looked over her shoulder fearfully, closing her eyes tight and wishing she were in any other position but this one.

Soon enough Delara got up the nerve to move and gently slid Antar’s arm from her, freezing when he tightened around her. She whimpered as quietly as possible and prayed he wouldn’t stir anymore as she slid from the bed completely and padded across the floor to where her clothes were. She lifted the crumpled mess and lamented inaudibly over the state of them; torn and tattered. Antar had left them entirely unwearable, Delara fell to her knees and clutched at them; her body trembling with silent sobs.

She shook her head then and inwardly cursed herself for being so helpless, her eyes gave a quick scan of the room and she crawled to the bed. Looking nervously up at Antar as she gripped the sheet and slipped it from the bed. Delara stood up and wrapped it around herself in a toga style, tying it tightly. She wandered over to the small mirror and tugged at her raven tresses until they no longer appeared so slept in. The bed sheet toga gave her an almost transparent appearance that made her grimace but she accepted it as a hard fact and besides, it was better than nothing at all.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Arabelle gasped as the Lord pressed forward his advantage. She was no virgin, so there was naught but pleasure. Curling her legs around him, she pulled him deep inside her. She let herself be lost in the sensations of the moment, his hands all over her body, his searing kisses, her soft moans and screaming cries lost in the inky night. He commanded her then, and she let him, she pliantly bent to his unspoken demands and even quicker responded to the spoken ones. Arabelle was his for the night.


Lord Simons took great pleasure in the Princess’ feistiness and ultimate capitulation. In the end, he let her be the rider, but he gave her the ride. As he knelt between her legs, thrusting deep inside her, he threw himself on his back, flipping her on top of himself. His hands still grasped her narrow wrists, and he forced her arms back behind her until her hands touched. He spread his legs, then, slipping them under hers and then drawing them together so she lay completely atop him, his cock still in her sheath though her legs were nearly closed.

The Lord slowly slid her body up his, her tightened sheath sliding up his shaft. He stopped with her cheek next to his and his corona about to burst from her entryway. A kiss and a bite at her ear, and he slowly slid her back down, over his chest and abdomen, until she could slide no further down his organ. As she slid, her slit opened, her labia parted, and her glistening clit was drawn over his body and squeezed in the flesh between their pubic bones. He knew the pleasure that it would give her, and enjoyed as well the heightened pleasure that her tightened vestibule would give him as he slid her up and down.

And slide her up and down he did. Again and again he drew her clit and her body over him, her tight womanhood over his swollen cock, in a slow, regular rhythm. Their breathing joined in unison with that rhythm and soon became repeated simultaneous gasps of breath. At a sudden, he felt her body stiffen and arch, and her sheath spasm around his shaft, and his own organ erupted, spewing jet after jet of hot semen against the walls of her pussy.

A few deep, long breaths, and then a sigh, and Arabelle fell into a deep sleep atop her conqueror, and her General himself fell asleep with her, his cock still nestled inside her.


Arabelle opened her eyes slowly to the cacophony of singing birds, and bright light. She blinked for a moment before realizing where she was, and when she did, she slowly moved to sitting. Her body sore in ways that only a well spent night of sex can create. She moaned softly and looked across the room at a dressed Lord Simons, and the small satisfied smile that played upon his lips. Arabelle smiled softly before wrapping the blanket around herself and standing.

"Lord Simons, I trust that you slept well. Thank you for the evening." A mischievous grin followed these words as she inclined her head slightly and strode towards the dressing room, slipping behind the wall and listening to the soft timbre of laughter on the other side. Allowing her maid to help her dress, she returned quickly to Lord Simons side, standing next to him she could she the little cut on his neck that she had created and she smiled softly to herself, before leaning down and softly licking the neck of the seated man. Grinning at his reaction she stood and held out her hand.

"Voulez-vous le petite dejeuner Monsieur?"


“Oui, ma belle Princesse,” il a reponder, “J’ai faime apres cet soir merveilleux. Merci bien, ma belle du matin.”

He looked at Ararbelle’s maid and asked if she would be so kind as to fetch their breakfast.

As soon as she left, the Lord addressed the Princess.

“Last night was indeed a pleasure, my dear Arabelle,” he began, “but there are some serious concerns for us to share as well.”

“I have heard,” he continued, “that a raiding party is at loose in these lands I protect, and that it is likely from your domain. It should be of interest to both of us, and I expect you and your guardian will cooperate with us in dealing with the brigands. Unless, of course, their actions are approved by your court.”

As he finished speaking, the maid returned with their morning repast. She leaned forward to serve the two, and the dip of her decolletage bared much of her firm, youthful, milk-white bosom. The General’s eyes widened at the sight, but he also noted that the breasts had drawn the Princess’ attention as well.

“I will be meeting with my officers this morning,” Lord Simons announced, “but there is time to dally over the meal.”

“Perhaps, your Highness,” he said, turning to Princess Arabelle, “you would have your girl entertain us with her beauty while we eat?”

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Antar woke softly as he felt the sheet be pulled from the bed. He watched through heavily lidded eyes as Delara wrapped the sheet around her form, it was a nice form too. He chuckled softly at her. Hearing the sound she turned and looked at him wide-eyed.

"Bonne Matin ma fille. Perhaps you would like to return that sheet? Or perhaps you would like to come warm my bed again." He stretched showing his well defined chest, groaning a little as his muscles began to wake up. He kept his head upon the pillow and stared lazily over at her, letting her see the lust in his eyes. His excitement evident under the blanket. He laughed at her softly as she shook within the sheets trying to gain a measure of confidence against him.

Softly he growled at her, leaving no measure of doubt in his voice. "Since you are so fetchingly wrapped in that sheet and haven't seen fit to come back to my side, you may wear that as you fetch my breakfast. Go. I expect you back here before I am finished dressing." He turned from her and stretched again before sliding out of bed, he reached out and swatted her bottom as he headed for the dressing room.

****​

Arabelle smiled sweetly over the table at the General, as she scanned her maid's form out of the corner of her eye.

"Raiders, my lord? My Empress mother will be most chagrined. Bien sur, my guardian is at your command." This last statement made her smile, the Lady Protector would be most angry if she were to forced to leave the twins' side.

Looking over at her maid, Arabelle grinned. "Take off your clothes, and please join us on the table." A little thrill ran through the princesses form as the girl gasped, but listened to her Lady's orders. She removed the gown quickly and turned bright red as the two nobles appraised her form. Arabelle stood and removed a few of the plates from the breakfast table. She moved to the girls side and kissed her shoulder, pushing her slowly onto the table. Arabelle left little kisses over the maids form as she shushed away the girl's trembles.

As her maid quieted and relaxed her naked body resting over the table, Arabelle sat across from Lord Simons and gently smiled and licked her lips as she looked over at him.

"Truly, a better way to enjoy this meal don't you think my Lord?" Arabelle sipped quietly at her morning tea, and ran her nails lightly over the thigh of the centerpiece.

 

[chronicle_tenko]

Hairu

The moment she came out Hairu knew things had not gone as planned. For one she was still alone. For two he could see her Kukri. Pride was a stubborn master of this girl, and after a kill she always recklessly exposed the blade to him. One day he thought another would see it as well.

"Close your thighs off girl, one less or no, you don't expose anything that looks like a known weapon." He absorbed the information quickly, A poisoner? His country had given no clearance for such an obvious plot. Which meant someone was acting alone, and at the worst possible time. Now whether that was in his clan, or simply in the Lord Simon's Household was later to be seen. "IF the spy wasn't there we need to get in and speak to her, It's a scullery person I think so they'll be sent for foods tomorrow. Royals, always have fresh produce in their meals, makes it harder to prepare vegetables for poisoning."

His hand signals were picked up quickly and most of the crew scattered, leaving him and Armina. He passed the signals for follow me. They moved quickly through the makeshift village and he dumped the faggot of sticks off near the side of the road. "We'll need lodging for the morning something simple and quick. I'm a migrant worker you're my daughter, We're passing through. I build bridges very strange and precise work, so we can pay but, I'm an eccentric so they shouldn't come bothering us.' He looked her up and down. "And yes feel free to play up yourself and flirt for the discount if you like, perhaps in a day or two rumours will trickle out of the house to the common folk. What you hear will be a good exercise towards gleaning what you know. Remember there is more than murder to our craft." He waited patiently for Armina's return before muddling himself inside. Already the stench of corn spirits was heavy upon him, people were again less likely to come talk to a drunk, and any thief who sought to take advantage of an elderly professional drunk and his young daughter would surely see the error of his ways quickly. And they may even learn something from him. Sadly no night visits were coming, and Hairu slept peacefully until his watch.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The morning came too quickly on this foreign coast. His home had the decency to roll fog off the waves and thusly defuse the sun's rays for at least a few more hours. He washed and changed clothes, more befitting an engineer of bridges. Orderign breakfast brought up, Hairu snuck out carrying his hammer on his belt and moved towards the open markets looking for the spy. He was a cook now apparently, and was certainly frightened, More than Delara and Royalty were about. Lord Simon's had always been the primary general, but he had taken another younger noble under his wing, it was her who'd been poisoned. Two exiles lived here, both Blademasters. Soryian An'delar, and Xavier. 'The demon'. Also somehow the castle had advance warning of a Raiding Party, it was the talk of the entire kitchen. Lastly and perhaps worst, the royal guard was headed by Lady Marrotte De Guinne. Information passed quickly, the guard numbers from last night the addition of so many new factors, all changed the original plan. Most pressing was Lady Marotte, she was unknown but rumour had it she had never lost a challenge to her honour, or a skirmish on the field. He knew both of Soryian and his exile, and of The Demon's defeat, and defection. Weregild prize to the enemy. Soryian was a broken blade, Xavier was a broken man in his eyes. It made them no less dangerous, with a sword in their hands, but each of them had been trained by men Hairu had first taught. Hairu could pick his fights and he could win those battles.

"Go keep watch, and inquire about the lovely daughter of a besotted bridge builder when next you need to contact me. You'll meet my protege, keep your hands to yourself if you wish to ever indulge in any favour she might offer."

Both men went their separate ways before long, The cook clutching a wooden rose and Hairu tossing a small silver talent, with the inscription of all the guards shift changes at the small gate used for deliveries. When he returned to the inn he filled Armina in on every plan that he had, along with the information he had found. To her credit she never blanched once at the odds, though she surely knew who they were up against as well. Finally he left her a message.

"Armina run this message to the men to capture foxes and meet at nightfall, well rested. The other parts of the day are yours, We're going to dip our toes in the water tonight you and I. So wear something suitable." Hairu Grinned. "I think it's time we see how these royal stock fare to some inconveniences in life.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Arabelle smiled sweetly over the table at the General, as she scanned her maid's form out of the corner of her eye.

"Raiders, my lord? My Empress mother will be most chagrined. Bien sur, my guardian is at your command." This last statement made her smile, the Lady Protector would be most angry if she were to forced to leave the twins' side.

Looking over at her maid, Arabelle grinned. "Take off your clothes, and please join us on the table." A little thrill ran through the princesses form as the girl gasped, but listened to her Lady's orders. She removed the gown quickly and turned bright red as the two nobles appraised her form. Arabelle stood and removed a few of the plates from the breakfast table. She moved to the girls side and kissed her shoulder, pushing her slowly onto the table. Arabelle left little kisses over the maids form as she shushed away the girl's trembles.

As her maid quieted and relaxed her naked body resting over the table, Arabelle sat across from Lord Simons and gently smiled and licked her lips as she looked over at him.

"Truly, a better way to enjoy this meal don't you think my Lord?" Arabelle sipped quietly at her morning tea, and ran her nails lightly over the thigh of the centerpiece.

“Bien sur, ma Princesse,” Lord Simons commented, “Allow me to prepare one of my favorite morning treats.”

He stood, picking up a small honey pot and its wooden spoon, and stepped to the far side of the maid. The General stood there a moment, admiring the young maids milky tits before dipping a spoonful of honey. A bit dripped on her breast as he brought the spoon to her left nipple and let the honey run slowly down. He spread the honey in a circle, covering the whole of her areola with the golden liquid before flicking it to stiffen her nipple. Satisfied with the presentation, Lord Simons prepared the right nipple similarly.

“Honeyed tit is quite tasty, my dear Arabelle,” he said to the Princesse, “come join me; I’ve prepared one for each of us.” He wrapped a hand around each of the maid’s breasts and squeezed, raising the sweetened nubs for sampling.

 

[monique_minx]

Delara flinched almost imperceptibly as Antar’s soft chuckle reached her ears, she turned with her eyes wide and an inward groan at him having awoken before she could leave. Now she very much doubted that her wish would be granted anytime soon. She wanted nothing more than to run to her room and take some fresh clothing from the chest May had filled for her.

"Bonne Matin ma fille. Perhaps you would like to return that sheet? Or perhaps you would like to come warm my bed again."

She shivered and almost whimpered audibly at the idea of rejoining him between the sheets or giving back the one that covered her form. His lustful gaze did nothing to assuage her fears of what the day might bring. Delara was frozen in place, her mouth open to answer but no sound escaped; she had no clue as to how to answer such a carefully veiled suggestion. Then came the command…

"Since you are so fetchingly wrapped in that sheet and haven't seen fit to come back to my side, you may wear that as you fetch my breakfast. Go. I expect you back here before I am finished dressing."

Delara took a sharp breath and knew this order left no room for arguments or attempts at compromise. Besides if last night had taught her nothing; it had taught her that Antar was no boy any longer and he got what he wanted, how he wanted and when he wanted. Delara bent and scooped the bottom of the sheet from the floor and tied a loose knot just beneath her knees to enable her to walk with more freedom.

She made for the door and shot Antar a scathing glare before she slipped outside and shut it behind her, tension both slipping and rising in her muscles as though she was confused as to her feelings about being freed from that room.

She made her way downstairs, dodging the odd look from a maid who wandered past her. In fact, Delara made it all the way to the kitchen without running into another servant or slave. However she neglected to take the time of day into consideration, thus when she walked into the kitchen; the room was bustling with activity. No less than twenty servants and slaves were scurrying about while the head chef by the name of Salma barked orders at them.

Only May was unanswerable to her, a few servants and slaves paused upon Delara’s entry; their jaws dropping and causing her to feel mighty uncomfortable. Salma noticed her immediately in the doorframe and she also noticed the effect the slave girl was having on her staff.

“Get back to work!” Salma glowered at them and they quickly returned to their duties, “Girl! Come here at once and explain yourself!”

Delara jumped at having been addressed and walked over to Salma with a clear blush in her cheeks, Salma examined her closely now and even went as far as to flick the sheet wrapping Delara’s body.

“Do you usually come to breakfast and chores dressed like this girl?” Salma asked in a sarcastic tone.

Delara shook her head quickly, “No ma’am, His Highness sent me to fetch his breakfast.” Delara spoke hurriedly, her eyes beseeching the chef for understanding.

Salma rolled her eyes and nodded grimly, “One day he’ll get his comeuppance child.” The chef stroked Delara’s cheek affectionately before she turned to a still gawking maid, “Haven’t you things to do Marietta? Or must I find some disgusting stable chore for you to go about with your hands?”

The maid named Marietta shook her head and flushed a deep crimson, “No Miss Salma, I was just-”

“Staring.” Salma interrupted her, “And staring rudely I might add, you should thank your lucky stars you do not find yourself in her place Marietta because I would have no pity for you. Now His Highness is seeking breakfast, you’ll fix a tray for this girl to take upstairs now.”

Marietta wasted no time in obeying Salma, clearly she did not want to be humiliated further in front of the new slave or any of the other servants. Salma’s glare seemed to surge through the room and the other servants feared giving Delara so much as a glance after that.

“Now child, you’re new aren’t you?” Salma asked and Delara nodded in reply, “Do you have a name girl?”

“Delara ma’am, Delara Del-” She corrected herself quickly, “-Cooper.”

Salma looked somewhat suspicious for a moment but then her expression cleared and she nodded with a gentle smile, “Welcome to the Empire Delara Del-Cooper.” She grinned, “You’re a Valstonian if I’m not mistaken?”

Delara nodded with an astonished look on her face, “How did you-?”

“How did I know? Child your accent is unmistakeable and I have been around Xavier long enough.” The large chef with the ebony tinged skin said to her kindly.

Delara’s face fell at the mention of Xavier but before Salma could ask her why, Marietta shoved the heavily laden breakfast tray into her hands and scurried off with a scathing glare. Delara made her apologies and thanks to the chef and hurried off herself. The tray balancing precariously in her arms; making it quite clear that Delara had never had to carry such things before. She also had to move swiftly; she’d not considered that Xavier might be about and the last thing she wanted to do was have to explain her appearance to him; luckily she made it back to Antar’s bedroom without incident.

She knocked once and then simply pushed the door opening; sidling through with the tray in one protesting arm. She never looked at Antar; she kept her eyes downcast all the way to the table before she set the tray down on its wooden surface and finally looked up at him. Her eyes hard and defiant as she refused to curtsy.

“Your breakfast Highness.” Her tone was icy and unwavering with resentment for the task she’d just completed for him.

 

[Fira]

Her face turned pink at the admonishment, but she quickly closed her cloak around the deadly weapons at her hips. She watched as the others began moving off at the silent command from Hairu, and followed him through the village, listening intently as he spoke.

"We'll need lodging for the morning something simple and quick. I'm a migrant worker you're my daughter, We're passing through. I build bridges very strange and precise work, so we can pay but, I'm an eccentric so they shouldn't come bothering us.'

Nodding in response to his directions, she was about to move on when she caught him looking her up and down out of the corner of her eye. She turned back to him, a question forming on her lips when he spoke again.

"And yes feel free to play up yourself and flirt for the discount if you like, perhaps in a day or two rumours will trickle out of the house to the common folk. What you hear will be a good exercise towards gleaning what you know. Remember there is more than murder to our craft."

With a mischievous grin, Armina left him with a nod, turning to find appropriate accommodations for a simple migrant worker and his daughter. After asking around, she found an out of the way inn that would allow them the privacy they sought, then returned to guide her “father” to his lodgings.

Once she received her instructions the next morning, she spent some time wandering around the town, getting an idea of where things were, mapping routes, and planning for contingencies. She caught up with each of the men, giving them their instructions, and continued on, looking for weak spots and listening unobtrusively to the idle gossip of the people.

As the day wore on, she returned to the inn to get some rest. According to the plans that Hairu laid out that morning, they were going to have a busy night ahead of them…

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Arabelle watched the General prepare his breakfast treat, smiling to herself. She raised an eyebrow to his invitation, but lowered her head and lips to the proffered nipple, the cloying sweetness of the honey melting on her tongue. She turned her head and softly licked the lips of the General, letting the myriad of tastes meld on their lips. She leaned back with a soft little sigh and daintily wiped at her mouth.

"Honeyed tit, tres interressant monsieur. I can say this is a rare delicacy." She smiled at the man across the table. Over his shoulder she looked at her manservant, the unspoken words conveyed and the man left silently. He knew that she was wondering what her brother was up to, and in whose arms he had spent the night.

"Lord Simons what other treats shall we enjoy this morning? Given that you seem inclined to play this morning still, I take it your appetite is not yet sated?" She smiled gamely at the man, and used her index finger to remove the remaining honey from her maid's breast, bringing it to her lips, watching him as she licked the amber liquid from the tip.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“Time only for a light breakfast, I fear,” Lord Simons replied with a sigh, “the prospect of a full meal served so lusciously is tempting, but I must meet with my officers on the issue I brought to your attention.”

The General lifted a crystal bowl of cherry preserves and doled some out with a silver spoon.

“A last taste before I take my leave, Your Highness,” he said as he looked up from his preparations, “the nether lips are yours; I’ll treat myself to the upper.”

The maidservant lay there, her ankles beside her ears, and both pairs of lips laden with juicy cherries. Lord Simon motioned to her pussy as he himself descended on her mouth. His lips gently caressed the maid’s as he took his first taste, and then proceeded to voraciously devour the rest, even driving his tongue into the girl’s mouth to secure the last drop of sweet juice.

“Au revoir, ma chere,” il declare, “peut-etre un petit rendez-vous apres midi? Mais maintenant, j’ai besoin d’addresser mes aides. A bientot, ma belle Princesse.”

Out the door and down the halls to his staff room, with some concern for the Princess’s relation to the raiding party, Simons hurried. While the Princess’s land was rife with factionalism, he would have found it very odd that any faction would risk an international incident without at least the tacit agreement of the nominal rulers.

He had two meetings scheduled, one with the commanding officers of each regiment and another with his trusted officers and sergeants, those who had fought beside him and earned that trust.

As Lord Simons entered his staff room, the assembled Colonels rose as one.

“Sit, gentleman,” their General offered, “and listen.”

“It has come to our attention,” he continued, “that a raiding party is afoot on our soil. We have no information on their origin or their aim, but we must be vigilant. You are each responsible for your sector, and I expect that you will post guards at key positions; be sure each guard is at least a company in strength. And report any information to me as soon as possible. There are more details in the order envelopes that my Lieutenant is distributing.”

“A last point, gentleman,” the General concluded, “I have taken some men and some units from each of your commands to serve me directly; I will need squads who may roam freely as needed to counter this raiding party. Your order papers include full lists. Are there any questions?”

He answered a few standard and expectable enquiries about the magnitude of the danger, the need for secrecy, and such, and then dismissed the Colonels. He sat to await the arrivals for the next meeting.

 

[Ausus_girl13]

Arabelle idly played with the wet slit of her maid, she had watched as the General had eaten his fill of breakfast and left her to entertain herself. Oh, it wasn’t that the general was a bad sort, she was just easily bored. She swept her long honey colored hair to the side and pulled a chrery off her maid with her maid using her teeth. The taste was sweet with a salty aftertaste that alerted her to the wetness of her servant. She swatted the maid’s bottom lightly.

“Non ma chère. Nous nous amusonais à bientôt" Arabelle helped her maid up and strode to the door opening it to find her manservant waiting for her, she smiled and nodded as he turned heel and led her to her brother’s rooms.

The halls were empty except for the occasional servant, and Arabelle wondered only for a minute at their absence. She saw crossed the great hall; she listened to the stern command of the general as he spoke to his captains. She smiled thinking of that same voice growling in her ear begging her to cum with him. Which, of course she had. It simply wouldn’t do for a future monarch to ignore the pleas of her people.

When she made it to her brother’s room, she didn’t even knock. She stepped into the room hearing a clatter of a serving tray, and a unkempt woman practically spitting her words at her brother. The soft chuckle coming from the side of the room, alerted her to her brother’s presence.

“Antar, my sweet, whatever have you done to anger this trollop?” She moved to his side and kissed him softly. She stayed close to him as she turned to look at the woman.

Antar wasn’t surprised at all when his sister walked into the room. She always had a way of showing up, just when he was about to do something damaging to the world around them.

“Look, closely dear one, do you recognize her?” He whispered wickedly into her ear.
Arabelle moved closer to the very angry woman, she reached out slowly, to move a piece of hair that had fallen into the trollop’s eyes. Arabelle grinned and turned her back on the woman, looking up at her twin.

“No! It simply isn’t possible! Your first love, serving you breakfast?! And in a sheet no less!” Arabelle giggled softly at the nonchalant look on his face, she heard a soft hiss and spun around. “Lady Delara, I had no idea you were making personal visits! And to be in the Empire, right now!” She moved to the woman’s side again and wrapped her arms comfortably around her. “C’est bien, J’ai te manqué”

Antar clicked his tongue alerting his sister to some information he had. He moved around Delara, effectively sandwiching her between the two of them. “She is not Lady Delara, here. She is nothing more than the General’s new slave” He made eye contact with his sister with the last word, and grinned wickedly at her. “And I have claimed her as my own. She seeks to keep her title, yet remain here.”

Arabelle gasped with the new info and looked Delara in the eye. “Oh naughty girl, I always knew you would get into trouble!” She hugged the girl close, making meaningful eye contact with her brother, who stepped against Delara, knowing she could feel his hardness through the thin sheet, He put his hands into Delara’s long tresses and pulled roughly, Arabelle was ready for the gasp that followed and she claimed the woman’s lips for her own. She slipped her tongue against Delara’s and moved her body against the other woman’s willing her to be pliant to her touch. Antar helped her by moving the woman’s head when it was necessary and kept his arms locked around both women. Arabelle broke the kiss and began to nibble on the other woman’s neck.

“You know Antar, I do believe she would look divine strung up and wilting under your whip.” Arabelle said softly, knowing how her brother loved to tie up their lovers and make them plead to have them both. She imagined Delara in the woods, the sheet piled at her feet, the sheen of sweat over her body as she arched under Antar’s excellent skill.

“You know little one, you might be right. I feel like a morning ride. Care to join me?”

“Mmm, oui mon frère.” She answered softly as she ran her hands freely over Delara, touching her waist, her belly, her breasts, loving as the tiny nubs hardened under her touch. “Brother, there have been raiders spotted nearby. Perhaps we should have protection?” She looked up at Antar for a moment, before returning her lips to Delara, kissing her ever so softly.

“Oui” Antar moved from the kissing women, and softly whispered to the manservant. “Send for the Lady Marotte, we require her services, and also, who was that man who was sulking behind the head of the guard?” Antar nodded at the man’s words, “We don’t want Xavier, so send for his second in command, Soriyan, Merci. Allons-y!” That should more than cover it for this little foray into the woods. Antar turned with a smile back to the two women who had continued to caress and kiss. Oh, his sister was talented, and just what he needed on this sunny morning.

 

[monique_minx]

“Antar, my sweet, whatever have you done to anger this trollop?”

The cool tempered and unmistakeable lilt of Arabelle’s voice reached her ears before the words ever registered and Delara looked toward it to see the princess make a few strides forward to kiss her brother. Delara watched apprehensively as Antar whispered into his sister’s hair and a great ball of dread started to grow inside Delara. Her fears were justified as Arabelle moved forward and slid an ebony wave back to reveal her face. She spun awake with a delighted grin leaving Delara to hug the sheet ever so tightly to her body.

“No! It simply isn’t possible! Your first love, serving you breakfast?! And in a sheet no less!”

Delara scowled and emitted a soft noise of protest at the way Arabelle responded to the situation. When the noble spun around to her however and took to her side with a familiar embrace, Delara blushed brightly as she remembered that Arabelle had no idea what was going on.

“Lady Delara, I had no idea you were making personal visits! And to be in the Empire, right now! C’est bien, J’ai te manqué”

Delara almost smiled until Antar made a soft sound with his tongue and moved to her side, she instinctively crushed herself closer to Arabelle in an attempt to escape Antar’s clutches.

“She is not Lady Delara, here. She is nothing more than the General’s new slave. And I have claimed her as my own. She seeks to keep her title, yet remain here.”

Arabelle met her eye and Delara bowed her head in shame, “Oh naughty girl, I always knew you would get into trouble!”

Arabelle hugged her closely and it was Delara’s mistake of thinking Arabelle was being sincere that caught her. Antar’s erection pressed against her and the sheet was not nearly enough then; she shifted uncomfortably for a moment before Antar pulled her hair back forcefully and Delara both gasped and yelped in pain. Arabelle swooped; taking full advantage of the strain Antar was placing on Delara’s body, before she knew what was happening, Arabelle’s tongue was in her mouth. With Antar holding her firmly in place; there was nowhere to go and her muffled noises of protest against Arabelle’s lips went unheeded. Arabelle broke the kiss and Delara gasped for air as she felt the other woman’s mouth sink to her neck and nibble a trail across it.

“You know Antar, I do believe she would look divine strung up and wilting under your whip.”

Delara’s eyes widened in horror at Arabelle’s suggestion and she trembled, pushing back only to hit Antar’s solid form behind her; ensuring there was no exodus.

“You know little one, you might be right. I feel like a morning ride. Care to join me?”

Delara watched in shock as this conversation continued between them while Arabelle’s hands traced over her body and her lips caught hers again. She whimpered softly and shut her eyes; uncomfortable with Arabelle’s sexual advances but it was still better than Antar whipping or touching her.

They were going to take her out of the castle? Delara’s mind started to whir into action, she needed some means of escape before these two had their fill of her. She refused to become one of their toys; she’d seen just how these two could treat a slave and Delara was a noble! She wasn’t going to put up with this! Her heart ached as she thought of Xavier and hoped that perhaps he would notice her absence and come find her. Oh please…Delara pleaded silently.