Unfinished Stories

MsLinnet

Far Past Worrying
Joined
Nov 27, 2001
Posts
1,870
I don’t know about the rest of you but I have a pile of unfinished stories now I was thinking (I know some think that would be impossible) but a lot of these stories will never be finished by me so I thought that by posting the starts of them in a thread would give others the chance to take up where the original writer has given up.

One thing I must stress the copy write of the original writer would have to be given up but a mention of credit after the title would be appreciated.
 
Father and Daughter

From the first days of her birth he had loved his little princess, as he watched her grow over the last eighteen years he had began to wonder what delights she would offer her husband or lover.

“Oh you are so beautiful my princess.” He said to his loving daughter who he loved so much.

Seeing her all grown his love of late, had turned to somewhat lust, she had never been shy in front of her parents and constantly came to breakfast in all but a see-through pyjama’s not worrying about the effects she was having on her father, her beauty was known to him, but he had never let it get the better of him.

But as he held her in his arms on this night of her prom he could feel the warmth building in his loins. “You be careful and enjoy yourself. I will wait up for you.”
“Bye Daddy I will see you later.”
 
Twins

Sorry I did re write this and got to a point that seemed to be a good place to finish it
 
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A Wifes Revenge

After almost ten years of my husband demanding sex in allsorts of manor I decided it was time to turn the tables on him, it was our wedding anniversary in a few days time and I knew what the routine would be. He would come home and take me out for dinner. Over a few hours he would normally get me drunk, then on the way home or once at home I would be bent over the end of a chair or the bed and he would ravish my arse for hours with a dildo or his fist before fucking me until he had his pleasure.

This time it was going to be different, I rang David at his office just before lunch suggested he got home early as I had a big anniversary surprise for him.

He asked me what it was but I only hinted at what I had in mind by saying “Bring some lube and some toys with you.” Hinting at the way the evening was going to go, little did he know the lube was for his arse not mine?
 
Forbidden Fruit.

This is the start of my latest story dumped into the unfinished pile

Jason Life long friend of Andy and the spouse of Lisa and lover of Nickki/Monique

Nickki/Monique The girl that Jason meets on the night of his bachelor party

Lisa Wife of Jason

Andy The best man and life long friend of Jason

Tiffany A waitress at the hotel where the bachelor party was held

Two strippers For the bachelor party but not seen afterwards

After two years of dating Jason and Lisa finally set a date for there wedding and that date is in 3 days time, “Andy I hope you have nothing sordid planed for him tonight and there is to be no strippers you understand.” The voice of Lisa echoed down the phone line and rattled in Jason’s head.

“No there is nothing like that it’s just some of the guys getting together and playing cards and having a few drinks, would I lie to you?”

“I know what you’re like I am warning you.” Lisa said as she put down the phone.
“Who was that? Asked Jason as he stepped out of the shower room of the hotel they where staying at dripping water all over the floor.

“Oh it was only room service asking what time we wanted the food brought up I said about 8 is that ok we are meeting the guys in the bar at 7 so that gives us plenty of time for a drink or two.” Andy said looking at his friend posing naked in front of the mirror.
“Ha remember in the 10th grade and Kate Lawler, you fucked her before lunch and I fucked her after lunch was she hot or what?”

“Yes and then her brother found out and beat the hell out of you and then came looking for me.”

“What about prom night who was it Susan Lloyd and Nancy Wilkinson we swapped half way through they where so stoned that they didn’t know what had happened.”

“Yes but that is all over I love Lisa and she is more than enough to last me for the rest of my life.”
 
snooper said:
Is this just for your stories, or can anyone dump unfinished stuff?

it was the idea for any one to dump stuff, it seemed like a good idea at the time
 
MsLinnet said:
it was the idea for any one to dump stuff, ...
Diolch yn fawr, nhariad. I dropped this ages ago. All the bits from Ch 5 onwards are quotes from the original short story.

Best Eaten Cold (Naomi, Avenger of Medcaster)
By Charm Brights
Based on an original short story by ronde

Chapter One Beginnings
Afterwards, years after the horrors were over, most people said the comet foretold the horrors; it was an omen, they said. Some people, who had a little more sophistication said it was the comet which caused all the horrors; it was a force for evil, they said. A very few, who were truly perspicacious, said that the comet provided the horrors; it gave a man with a twisted mind the opportunity to exercise his evil.
The comet itself was beautiful, if you weren’t superstitious, though almost everyone was. It started as a diamond speck in the east, rising about mid-day, looking like a tiny shining hole in the sky. When at its height it filled half the sky in the evening with a coruscating tail and was brighter than the full moon. It was a pure coincidence that King Andrew died when it was at its height, but few believed that.
The heir to the throne was a mere child, and Queen Caroline was an insipid young girl who could never make her mind up what to wear let alone rule the country as the Regent for her son. Edvin was the former King’s Inquirer; with the King’s Collector he ran the country which was, of course, ruled by the King by divine right. The King’s Collector organised the financial side of the realm, collecting taxes, paying civil servants, buying horses and swords for the Army, writing detailed laws to implement the King's wishes, things like that. The King’s Inquirer enforced those laws, headed the Police force, was in charge of the Army which defended the boundaries of the realm, ran the courts and the prisons, things like that.
When it became apparent, some six hours after the King died, that there would be a disastrous vacuum at the head of the kingdom if the Queen were to become Regent, Edvin moved quickly to ensure that the peace would be kept and that law and order would prevail. He sent out a proclamation in the name of the child King to say that he, Edvin, would be Regent until the King came of age some ten years later. When the King’s Collector objected, Edvin told him bluntly that as the Army and the Police were under his command the Collector had to accept Edvin as Regent or leave the country.
Wisely, as it turned out, the Collector decided to leave the country that very day and disappear. When Edvin heard that he had gone, it suited him perfectly; one small annoyance was that he had taken the young King with him, but the Queen remained behind. Edvin smiled a little to himself, as he had plans for that young woman; plans which did not include her sharing his power, but which did include her sharing his bed. If she were to object, it might be quite pleasant ‘persuading’ her to do so. For the time being he advised her to take a six month period of mourning, during which there would be no Royal functions at all. One of his cronies was sworn in as the Regent’s Collector.
After the comet had left the sky, driven away, Edvin let it be known, by the wisdom of the new Regent, he set about making certain arrangements. First he moved to live in the Palace; then he set about ensuring that the population would believe that the young King was alive and well, but would be shielded from public events ‘until he is a little older’. Then he set up a special suite for himself which consisted of an audience chamber, an office from which he ruled the land, a bedroom, and a private room, some forty feet square, which he had fitted with some very unusual equipment. The story he gave out was that it was a gymnasium for his personal fitness.
When all was in readiness, he invited the Queen to see his suite, and showed her the audience chamber with its throne and ornate tapestries depicting an obedient populace receiving laws and justice from the Regent. He showed her his office with all the latest fitments, beautiful desks for himself and his scribe, ornate inkwells, the finest quill pens, comfortable chairs, a small pigeon roost for his carrier pigeons, and a semaphore station to communicate with the Army and the Police. Then he invited her to inspect the private rooms.
As they passed through the door into the bedroom, he closed it behind the queen and said, “This is our bedroom where we will sleep, and make love.”
“I did not know you were married, Regent,” said the young widowed Queen.
“Oh, I’m not. I meant you and I,” said Edvin, “Please disrobe as I wish to see my new concubine in all her glory.”
“What!” exclaimed the Queen, “How dare you?”
“Caroline my sweet,” said Edvin, completely unruffled by her anger, “You are now mine. I rule this land and if I want you naked on that bed today, or any other day, you will obey me. Now strip and be quick about it.”
“I shall do no such thing,” she replied, only to be shocked as Edvin grasped the front of her gown and tore it open, revealing the breasts which her late husband had been the only adult male to see.
“Mmm,” he said, “Nice. I trust the rest is as beautiful.”
With that he started to pull the mourning dress off her shoulders. As she struggled ineffectually to prevent this outrage he slapped her face, hard, twice. She dissolved into tears and before many seconds had passed he had stripped off all her clothes and thrown her on the bed, where she cried pitifully.
“Please, please don’t do this, I beg of you,” she whimpered, entirely forgetting her nudity in her fear.
Edvin ignored her protests and stripped off his doublet and hose, revealing a large uncircumcised cock which he proceeded to force along the path only the King had previously entered. A few strokes sufficed to bring him to his climax and his semen surged into her womb as she fainted from the shock. He withdrew and cleaned his weapon on the remnants of her gown. As she was still unconscious he surveyed her body and mused that she was really very lovely for the mother of an eight-year-old boy. The breasts were still firm and pert, and her vagina had been pleasantly tight during his use of it. He surmised that King Andrew had not been a violent user of his women, and correctly suspected that the Queen had not tasted a penis in her mouth, nor felt one in her anus. Well that would change, and change very soon.
Turning her over he admired the lovely buttocks, all creamy white, and another thought struck him, ‘Creamy coloured buttocks. They might look well with some strawberry colouring to set them off.’
SMACK!
A red handprint appeared on the right buttock and the Queen suddenly recovered from her fainting fit and sat up screaming for her attendants.
“Scream away,” said Edvin, “Nobody will come in here unless I order it. Now turn over and let me admire the colour of your bottom cheeks.”
“I’ll do no such …”
She was interrupted as he smacked her painfully across the left breast, and she quickly turned over as he had requested.
He admired the results of his handiwork for a moment or two and then said, sharply, “Now. Get up and listen to me.”
When she had struggled up and was sitting on the bed, he continued, “You are now my bed companion and will never leave this suite. If you obey my every whim, I will let you stay here with me. If you refuse me anything, you will be punished. If I tire of you, I will give you to the Army to play with and that would certainly mean more than a few men using you, every day. Very few people have seen you close enough to recognise you, so if you claim to be the Queen they will merely laugh at you. That will be the more certain because the Queen will still make some appearances in public, though wearing the widows weeds for the rest of her life.”
“Nonsense; I will have you hanged before the sun sets,” snapped the Queen, recovering from her ordeal with all the resilience of a young woman not overburdened with brains.
The only reply she got was another slap on the side of her head which sent her sprawling on the bed.
“You will have me hanged?” laughed Edvin, “And how do you propose to do that?”
He leaned over and pulled the bell-rope. Almost at once a palace footman whom Caroline recognised came into the room.
Completely ignoring the naked woman on the bed he said, “You rang, my Lord?”
“Send for the private bodyguard and have this man arrested,” demanded the Queen.
For all the notice the footman took, she might as well have saved her breath.
“You see now; I am in complete control here. He will not even see you unless I order it,” said Edvin, and with that he swept out of the room.
“Can you see me now?” she asked the footman.
“Please, Ma’am. I am allowed to see only the Lord Collector’s current bed companion. Furthermore, I am supposed to remove these clothes and to chastise her if she tries to prevent me,” said the footman, scooping up the torn gown from the floor.
“Chastise!” the Queen exclaimed, “What do you mean, chastise?”
The footman hopped in an embarrassed fashion from one foot to the other and averted his face as he said, quietly, “Ma’am, I am to whip you with a riding crop until you are obedient.”
“I suppose those are also the Lord Collector’s orders?”
“Yes, Ma’am. He said he rather hoped you would disobey as it would save him the trouble of whipping you later.”
“Well, what am I to wear?” she asked plaintively.
“Ma’am, begging you pardon, Ma’am,. The Lord Protector said you won’t need any clothes.”
As the full enormity of her position sank in Caroline, so recently the Queen, subsided on to the bed and made no move to prevent the footman as he left the room with the remnants of her clothes.
Chapter Two The New Order
###
Edvin returns in the evening.

“And if I become pregnant, what then?” she asked.
“At first the growth of your tits will be pleasing. When you get too fat for my tastes, I can easily get another girl to replace you,” said Edvin casually.
“And what would become of me then?” she asked with rising hysteria.
Edvin merely shrugged his shoulders, and continued, “Now shut up, and get on the bed with your legs up. I’ll start with a straight fuck. After that you can suck me back to an erection and then I’ll have your arse.”

###
Edvin takes full advantage of all her holes. This involves him in persuading her to obey him.
Chapter Three Life Settles Down
It had long been the practice for the subservient cities to furnish one or two of their brightest young people to work in and around the court in different rôles, as members of the civil service, or as personal assistants to the nobility.
Under the Regency of the Lord Collector, as he now styled himself, there was no court of nobles in session. It had been announced that the young King would not hold court until he was of an age to participate in the governance of the country and that the Queen was too prostrate with grief to consider such a thing. Her few personal friends were ‘persuaded’ to go home and be quiet about her disappearance. The only one who objected to this, and insisted on seeing the Queen in person, had an unfortunate accident and broke her neck on a Palace staircase while being escorted to visit the grieving widow.
There were still vacancies from time to time in the civil service and recruiters made their leisurly way round from city to city selecting those candidates they deemed best fitted for the posts. The only change from the days of the old King seemed to be that there were now fewer posts for boys than there had been, and that the girls were sometimes chosen more for their looks than their brains. There had always been a few young people who had been corrupted by the attrctions of the capital, and had fallen into bad company. Some of these had slunk home, shamed, sometimes pregnant, and always remorseful. Others had disappeared into the criminal underworld never to be seen again. Because of this is took some time for the cities to realise that most of the prettiest girls seemed to be disappearing after a few months in the civil service, disappearing and never returning to their homes.
###
Edvin indulges himself with old adversaries and new friends.
Chapter Four Anger
###
The town of Medcaster annoys him by refusing to send him girls to play with.
Chapter Five Attack
###
At dawn, the sentry in the North watchtower of Medcaster spied horsemen silhouetted against the black-purple sky. He gasped in panic as line after line of warriors slowly crested the crop-covered hills surrounding the city.
“There be thousands,” he exclaimed to himself.
As he touched his fingertips to his forehead, the sentry mumbled a prayer, “Great Father, save us, save us all.”
He turned and gave the alarm to the slowly waking city.
###
The attack and some blood and killing.
Chapter Six Aftermath
###
The victors take their pleasure with the vanquished, always aware of the order to kill all.
Chapter Seven Survivor
###
Naomi never saw the serried ranks of the invading army.
She was shaken from her sleep by her father, jerked to her feet and carried down into the sewer opening not far from her house where he ordered, “Stay here and stay quiet. Do not come out until after I return when the battle is won.”
All that day, she sat on a low wall surrounded by the filth and stink of the sewer and listened to the thunder of hooves and the screams of echoing from the battle raging above.
###
When night fell, the screams were replaced by the terrified shrieks and cries of women being raped and slaughtered. Naomi leant against the wall of the sewer and shook through the few quiet intervals of time. Often she perceived shadows passing the entrance to the foul tube hewn into the soft sandstone, and expected to be taken at any moment. Naomi was shaken to near hysteria by the triumphant shouts of the Kingstown warriors looting what little of value the city held. Thirst, hunger, and the soft brush of unseen things that scurried over her head and hands made the sanctuary one of pain and fright, but she dared not leave the safety of the hiding place.
###
Not until the second night did she venture out, and then only under the cloak of shadows in a dark and moonless night. Her bare feet made no sound as she travelled through the streets by taking a few steps, stopping to listen, and then inching forward again.
She crept through the shadows to her home and encountered no living person, but the dead were all around. The door to their house had been broked down, and hung drunkenly from one hinge. Going in with some trpidation, Naomi almost fainted as she tripped over the body of her father. His heart had been pierced by a pike, and the broken shaft still protruded from his chest. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she touched his cold, lifeless face. She rose and entered the house, and through tear-blurred eyes, saw a woman’s body. Naomi had thought her mother beautiful, but the butchered horror before her bore no resemblance to the blonde-haired women who had nursed a baby Naomi at her breast. The girl turned away from the naked body lying spread-eagled on the floor and searched with hoping heart around the rest of the moonlit room. She found no person other than herself and the bloody corpse. Her gaze came full circle, she walked closer to the body, and cried out when she discovered the small dark pink birthmark on the woman’s right breast. The mark matched the one on her own chest, although at the age of thirteen, she had barely begun to blossom with the curves of womanhood. Naomi sank to her knees and wept until she could weep no more. As the first rays of dawn pierced the blood spattered windows, her grief became the rage of lost innocence, and Naomi swore a vow to Great Father.
Chapter Eight Life is hard
###
At the age of eighteen, she met the first of the many that had fallen to her sword and dagger.
He had chuckled, “Ahh, what have we here? Why, I believe it’s a new sheath for my sword. A young sheath for sure, but all the tighter for it.”
Naomi had been brave, but foolish in her inexperience, and allowed the man to come within reach. He had grabbed at the swell on the front of her tunic and squeezed hard.
“It’s a nice little tit, and a soft one at that; I’ll like having it under my chest.”
Her dagger slipped beneath his ribs just as he extended his other arm to restrain her. He died quickly, but not before leaving purple-black bruises on her shoulder and breast. She had grown since that day, both in experience and in size, and had allowed no other man to touch her.
Chapter Nine The Play Begins
###
The silent hunter crouched in the cover of the forest undergrowth and watched two Kingstown warriors settle down by their fire. Soon, quiet breathing was replaced by intermittent snoring. The night creatures and insects resumed the soft song of the forest as they went about their way in search of food and mates. When the snoring became deep and regular, the lithe form crept silently over the soft carpet of decaying leaves and grasses. A flare of flames silenced the night creatures as the heat burst some pocket of resin deep inside one of the logs, and the hunter flattened to the ground. For a few moments, the blaze lit the small clearing, but to even the sharpest eye, only the suggestion of motion would have been seen; a careful look at the site of the supposed movement would have revealed nothing but the normal forest floor. The shape had disappeared into the invisibility afforded by the mottled brown garments and the low, flickering light. The flames died away to dim, red, glowing coals, the trees once again retreated into the night, and the hunter crept forward on all fours. The cat-like movements slowed to barely perceptible. A soft “shh” sound marked the dagger being withdrawn from it’s sheath. The hunter was so close to the sleeping warrior as to smell the stench of months on the march without benefit of bathing, and, had the fire burned brighter, a small nose would have been seen to pinch against the odour. As quickly as the viper strikes the mouse, the stalker reached out with one hand and covered the mouth of the sleeper. The other slashed the dagger across his bearded throat. The warrior attempted to struggle, but the silent hunter flattened upon his body until the flow of life blood slowed to a trickle. The form release the grip and crept towards the other sleeper. The warrior stirred, and the hunter leaped high to land with knees in the warrior’s leather clad belly. The sudden compression of the sleeper’s gut expelled all air from his lungs, and caused an involuntary contraction that kept him from inhaling. As he gasped for air, the dagger slipped under his rib cage and thrust into the depths of his chest. The figure made a three quick swishes of the dagger handle and the warriors heart was shredded. He died staring into blue eyes that flared with a fire of murderous intent.
The hunter calmly watched the death throes before searching for the water container they must have carried. After finding the dried ox stomach, the figure began disrobing. The soft glow of the coals lit the smooth, muscular form when the soft, pigskin clothing fell to the ground. Legs corded with muscle and sinew blended into tight hips and a firm belly cloaked with pale blonde curls. The graceful movements caused the blood-streaked, well-formed breasts to sway gently, and were any observer to study the face, he would have found it beautiful in spite of the black smudges and blood that dotted the high cheeks. Upon the removal of the leather hat, a shining, blonde mane fell about her shoulders. She began washing at the blood, and as the gore was sluiced away, a small, dark pink birthmark became visible on the figure’s rounded right breast. After completing her toilet, the young woman cleansed her leather garments and then dressed. The short skirt covered little of her muscular thighs and the lacing of the shirt held her full breasts so tightly as to push them up and over the low neckline. She pulled on high boots and tied the straps at her knees. After carefully searching the bodies, she rummaged through the packs and weapons of the dead warriors and took what interested her. The noises of the forest commenced, and the lone survivor of the razing of Medcaster sat beside the fire and ate of the warrior’s rations. Her appetite was soon sated, and Naomi carried the broadswords, shields, and the few garments and trinkets to her camp in the hidden canyon. The breaking rays of dawn found her astride the chestnut stallion called Charmer as he loped over the plain. Naomi relaxed on his strong back, and breathed deeply of the fresh, morning air. The speed of the running steed matched the flag of her long blonde hair to his creamy yellow, flying mane and tail.
Naomi’s reason for travelling in this direction was to trade in the markets of Gatetown. Gatetown was a lawless border town filled with thieves, murderers, and concubines as well as traders. It sat on the edge of Catonia, the country in which she was born, and was near the large kingdom of Falfalia. Although the town was filled with danger, the traders had goods from far and wide, and asked no questions as to the origin of anything offered as barter. In return, it was understood that no inquiry would be made about the former owner of the trader’s goods. The arrangement suited Naomi well, for although her purpose in life was the elimination of the Kingstown warrior class, she had need of food and clothing in her quest. She laughed at the irony; the strength to kill Zandalins was fed by their own possessions. The hazy blue afternoon sky waned into the orange-purple clouds of evening as Naomi rode up to the opening of a small, secluded valley. This valley was off the travelled paths to Gatetown, and she felt relatively secure, but still dismounted at the entrance and carefully searched the ground for signs of trespass to her secret retreat. After satisfying herself that nothing had been disturbed, she located the hidden cave, and added her trophies to the collection of six month’s hunting. She rearranged the foliage of the bushes that hid the entrance, loosed Charmer to graze, and made her way to a thicket of willows. As she stepped through the close-grown saplings that guarded the small, quiet pool from view, the young girl stopped and again looked for signs of any intruder. Nothing seemed out of place, and she walked the short way down the shore to the place where the soapwort grew. After selecting a few of the cleansing plants and crushing them on the rocks, she removed her clothing and waded into the cool, spring-fed water.
Since that fateful day in Medcaster, Naomi had been obsessed with the cleanliness of her body. It was as if the two days of standing in the black, odorous muck that slowly flowed to the nearby river had stained her skin to an unreachable depth, and the stain had remained in her mind if not on her body. She bathed daily, if possible, and if need be, as it was on the night before, she washed again to remove the residue of her work. This obsession did not stay Naomi from her vow of taking revenge on the Kingstown warriors, but she never let herself remain soiled for longer than required to finish the immediate task. The cool water lapped at her hips as she walked over the sandy bottom, and she stopped only when the small waves created by her motion tapped at dark nipples made rigid by the chill. She shivered at the water against her bare skin, took a deep breath, and bent at the knees until the water closed over her head. This first immersion was a favourite with Naomi; the cool water exchanged her weight for buoyant bliss, and she remained in the squatting position until her lungs screamed for air. As her body broke the surface, she threw back her head, and the water-darkened mane of blonde swept the air with a cascade of diamond-glitter droplets. Her hands slicked the hair back from her face, and then began working the soapwort into a rich lather. The blonde tresses came first, and soon were thick with foam. After another immersion served to rinse them clean, she carefully squeezed out of the water. Naomi waded to less depth to expose her body. Her hands scrubbed gently at her face and slender neck and then over the soft shoulders. The slippery feeling of the soapwort was enjoyable, as was the caress of her own hands on her skin. As her palms softly rubbed the full, rounded contours of her breasts, and then brushed over the still hardened nipples, she caught her breath. The feeling bade her touch linger at the taut nubs. The girl gently squeezed the warm globes, and then worked her palms down her sides and back. As the swell below her slender waist felt the caressing fingers, a tingle floated up her spine and she shivered. Her hands traced the outline of her hips, stopping to squeeze and slip between the soft cheeks, and then slowly moved around to the gentle curve of her belly.
Naomi ran her lathered hands over her feet, calves and thighs. Spreading her stance wide, she worked more soapwort into a frothy lather, and washed the golden curls at the base of her belly. Her fingers worked the lather down, down, down, and over the soft lips that formed the portal of her childbed. The fingers slipped between the lips and rubbed gently, and the familiar tightening sensation began deep inside her. She worked more lather from the remaining plants, and pushed her fingers inside the passage. The flicker of warmth in her belly became a raging flame. Her slippery thumb sought and found the growing button of flesh that now protruded from between the lips, and began to massage it. Her other hand slid over her breasts, first moving to cup and caress the underside, and then squeezed. The lather caused the breast to slowly slip from between her fingers until she was left holding the erect nipple in a tight grip. She pulled gently, and her knees became weak as the shooting sensations collided with the ripples in her belly. Naomi cried out and her fingers and thumb moved more quickly. She stretched and lifted the breast by the nipple, released it to bounce softly against her chest, and grasped the other. As she lifted this one by the taught tip, the tingle again shot through her body, and she felt the always incredible tension building. Her hips rocked against her hand, faster and faster until, at last, with a tiny cry, her body spasmed and she fell to her knees with gasping breath and pounding heart. After a few moments, Naomi waded out to her chin, plunged under the water, then rose and walked back to the shore.
She dried her body with a soft fur from her pack, dressed in fresh leather garments, and began combing her hair. Naomi was proud of the hand-carved tortoise shell comb. It was a trophy from a warrior she had killed some time before, and since his hair showed no sign of ever being washed, she was certain the comb was not for him. She surmised it was a gift for some concubine in Pernetania where the garrison was based. Naomi had heard of the whores of Pernetania and considered them to be on an equal level with bitch dogs, so she had no qualm about relieving the corpse of this small trinket. She worked quickly but was careful to separate the tangles, and in an hour, the yellow-gold mane was dry and full. A plaited leather headband served to hold the sides from her face, and Naomi felt clean again. No fire would she have this night, for though the valley was secluded, it was safer to remain undiscovered. The deeds done in the pursuit of her quest would cause no great consternation among the local populace, for the Kingstown’s showed no prejudice in the targets of their frequent raids. Many were the families broken asunder by the stroke of a Kingstown sword, and most would have rejoiced at the death of the last warrior. She did not fear the hunters of the night, for she had trained herself to mimic their movement, and would be forewarned by the familiar, tiny sounds of their passage. Her caution was against the human wolves who sought out those stopping for the night before commencing trade in Gatetown. Morning would find the unwary traveller beaten and robbed at the least; more often than not, the sun’s rays would cast bright light on dull, dead eyes. A little parched grain, received compliments of her last two victims, would serve to quell her hunger. After removing all traces of her presence, Naomi climbed to the comfortable crotch in the oak tree that she had discovered on a past journey to the city.
Chapter Ten My Horse, My Horse
###
The stallion’s scream made her eyes fly open only to shut against the bright sunlight. Naomi shaded her brow with her hand and searched in the direction of the sound. Charmer was rearing against three ropes which bound him to the saddles of three Kingstown warriors. As the riders pulled the ropes, they rode nearer and nearer to the plunging, rearing horse until he was trapped. One of the riders threw a band of leather over Charmer’s eyes and quickly tied it. Charmer quieted immediately, and the three led their prize towards the entrance to the valley. Naomi was on the ground almost before the echoes of Charmer’s scream died away against the valley walls. She ran towards the protective willows with the full intention of killing all three warriors and retrieving the stallion. Just how she would accomplish this deed, since she was armed only with the dagger, and had a great distance to run, was not of concern to the enraged woman. Had the heavily muscled arm not appeared from behind a clump of saplings to circle her waist, Naomi would have raced to the stallion’s side, and her fate would have rested with the Great Father. In a heartbeat, she was lifted from her feet, a strong hand clamped over her lips, and her back was crushed into a massive, naked chest. With the strength of a cornered animal, she fought against this human obstruction that handled her so easily, flailed at the body behind her with fists and feet, and bit the hand until she tasted the salty flavour of blood.
“You’re teeth are sharp and painful, but I will not release you until you halt your struggle.”
The deep voice caused her to pause and her quick mind began formulating a plan for escape. She quickly relaxed her legs and became dead weight in the grip of the hands.
“Ah, so you yield quickly, do you? You must think me a fool to believe the woman who was ready to defend a mere horse against three armed warriors would so quickly place herself at the mercy of just one. I will allow you to speak, but I will not yet release you.”
The hand moved from her mouth, and she saw the two half-moon impressions of her teeth. Her voice was quiet, but seethed with rage.
“Who are you, bastard son of a diseased whore? I would have killed the three and had Charmer back if you had not stopped me. I would kill you if you would only release me.”
Naomi again began pummelling the man who held her. The arm tightened around her waist until she could not breathe. The deep voice chuckled.
“I think not, my pretty little captive with the mouth of an ox driver. You have spirit, that is true, but I think you need judgement to temper the fire. I can hold this grip long after you have fainted, and will do so unless you behave. I leave the choice to you; stop that irritating kicking or turn the colour of the sky. It matters not to me.”
Naomi relaxed again, if only to gain thinking time. It was useless to resist; his superior strength would always win out. The compression of her waist loosened somewhat, and her lungs sucked deeply at the fresh air they craved.
“Had I let you go, you might have been mercifully killed, but it is likely the three would have taken their pleasure with you before ending your life, and your horse would still be tied to their saddles. I’d have been forced to stay my quest in order to bury your body away from the wolves and hawks.”
“What quest?” she grunted.
“Hmm … if I tell you, and you manage to escape me, you could sell my knowledge to the first trader you meet. I think I will keep that to myself, for the moment. I could help you get your horse back if he means that much to you. He looked to be big enough for two of you, but if you like him that much … That is, if you are willing to help me. Are you done fighting me for a while?”
At her nod, he sat her easily on her feet. She turned and saw her captor for the first time. Had she been the normal timorous woman of her time, the tall stranger would have been intimidating. He towered over her head, and it was understandable that she was so helpless against his strength. So heavily muscled was his chest and shoulders, they looked ready to burst from his open leather shirt. The eyes under the shock of black hair were wily but with a sparkle, and the smile appeared genuinely friendly.
“I am Michael, son of Andrew, and king of Kingstown. And you are?”
“Naomi of Medcaster, and you’re a liar. There is no king in Kingstown. There is only the evil King.”
“I will be king, someday, mark my words. It is you who strays from the truth. Medcaster was razed many years ago, and the city is only a mouldering ruin. All its people were killed.”
“All but one. I am the last, and I am their avenger.”
Michael threw back his head and bellowed in laughter.
“You don’t look much like an avenger. You’re just a girl. You’re a pretty girl, but still, just a girl.”
He saw the flick of her wrist and jumped just as the dagger whistled past his ribs. He chuckled, and Naomi slashed at him again. Pain shot through her wrist as the large hand closed around it. The grip tightened until she yelped and dropped the dagger.
“Hmm, the pretty girl has the quickness of a snake, and is clever as the fox. Perhaps you could avenge your kin against mice and rabbits, but never against warriors. Still, you may be of some assistance, and I will help you get your horse back. Now, we must be off if my plan is to work. The timing is critical.”
Naomi looked in awe at the massive black stallion that burst through the thickets at Michael’s whistle. Charmer was large; this horse was immense.
Michael simply said “Charjar, my friend,” and leapt easily to the saddle.
He offered his hand. She was lifted to the stallion’s rump as if she had taken wing.
“We must move quickly to be there in time. Hold on.”
Chapter Eleven To Pernetania
###
The stallion’s canter chewed up the level plain in long gliding strides. Naomi’s legs squeezed the gleaming black horse with all her strength and her arms wrapped tightly around Michael’s waist. It was like hugging a tree, she thought, except that trees did not sway and ripple beneath one’s arms. It had proven useless to hold herself away from Michael’s back, and now she pressed her breasts into the slabs of tight muscle. With each stride, the stallion’s motion caused her nipples to rub against the her leather shirt. Naomi fought at the sensations; they were as pleasurable as when she caressed herself, but she did not understand the other feelings that holding the large stranger created. Men had slaughtered her father and mother. She had heard the loud laughs of the Kingstown warriors mixed with the women’s screams of terror and pain.
###
Why did this man cause such confusing feelings? It was dusk when Michael stopped the black stallion. Naomi saw the flickering light of torches in the distance.
“That … , is the fortress of Pernetania, centre of the Kingstown realm. If my guess is right, your horse is there. My reason for this ride is also there. I come for the woman who killed my father and robbed me of my birthright,” he spat the name, “Edvin!”
The name shook Naomi from nose to toe. Edvin, Lord Collector and Regent of Kingstown, the most feared ruler in all the realms. Edvin was known throughout the land of Kingstown, as well as in the surrounding kingdoms, as a man bound to his actions by the ties of lunatic perversion. No act was so gruesome as to cause Edvin to shy away, and in fact, she took her pleasure from such situations. Not only did she command her warriors to rape and plunder the border cities of her realm, but she maintained a chamber of terrible implements for the torture of the conquered warriors her commanders spared during the battles. Edvin lived and breathed the pain of those so unfortunate as to come within her grasp. Some said she also ate of their man-flesh. She spared no life, but would prolong the agony of some hapless lump of flesh to such extent that he would beg for death. Ultimately, Edvin would grant this plea, but only after the screams and gore had left her gasping in perverted sexual release. It was from this garrison, and under her orders that Medcaster had been devastated.
“This is your plan, to kill Edvin? Not only are you a liar, you are a fool. I should have expected nothing more.”
“And why am I a fool, little avenger?”
“Everyone knows there are thousands of warriors in that fortress. Even as big and dumb as you are, you can’t believe you can kill them all. Edvin will have you on her cutting table before nightfall.”
“Well, there is that possibility, I suppose, but you see, I happen to know the garrison is being sent to Carterton tomorrow morning. Edvin has used her stock of lambs, and requires more. She has also lost her common sense. She believes twenty guards are enough to protect her.”
“And you have a plan for killing them? Twenty is better than thousands, but twenty is still too many, even for both of us.”
“True again, little avenger, but I know one other secret about Edvin. She hates men, but has a particular fondness for women in her bedchamber,” Michael eyed Naomi carefully, “Especially the young ones.”
“Stop calling me little avenger. My name is Naomi!”
She blushed at his beaming smile.
“W-why are you smiling at me?”
“I was just thinking that you might enjoy Edvin’s ministrations, and I will have gained a woman of two pleasures to share my bed.”
“You have more chance of killing the bitch-King than of getting me into your bed.”
“We shall see about my bed, but I don’t mean to kill her. I mean to capture and sell her to a slave trader in Falfalia. There is a certain king who wishes her company in his castle.”
“But she’s crazy. Why would anyone want her?”
“It seems she sent his brother back from her dungeon, in pieces, as it were, and he wishes to return the favour. Edvin will become a harlot in the service of the king’s army. I would not wish her on my worst enemy, but he’s willing to pay a handsome sum, enough to make us both rich.”
“I don’t need to be rich. I need to see the end of the Kingstown warriors.”
“In three days, the Kingstown warriors will be gone. This same king has sent his army to Carterton, and they await in ambush. Their number is twice that of the Zandalins.”
The plan was simple; too simple, Naomi thought. They would ride into the garrison in the evening, after the main force had departed. Michael would ask to see the King. When the guards asked what business he had with Edvin, he would reply that he brought Naomi to the King as a slave. Naomi’s part was to keep her temper under control and appear to be afraid. If things went well, Naomi would soon be with the King, and Michael would be taking care of the guards. Naomi would carry a small dagger hidden in her boot, and was to overpower the King, bind, and gag her. After dispatching the guards, Michael would find the King’s bedchamber, and they would be off for Falfalia. By the next night, Edvin would be a thought of the past, and they would be rich.
“And just why will they let us inside the gates?”
Michael chuckled.
“Because I have this.”
He produced a Kingstown warrior’s tunic from a bag behind the saddle.
“There are too many warriors for the guards to know each one. I’ll say I have returned from a foraging party with a gift for my King.”
“Tell me, if things don’t go according to this plan of yours, what will we do?”
“Well, you said you wanted to kill Zandalins. You’ll get lots of opportunities. That was my plan before I happened on you.”
Horsemen trotted from the garrison gates for several hours. The column formed a long snake of black leather and glittering steel that slithered away towards the horizon. Michael and Naomi watched patiently from their hiding place in a thicket until the dust of the last riders fell silently to the earth.
Chapter Twelve Entry
###
“This time, you ride in front, and I’ll have to tie your hands. That way, you’ll look like a captive.”
“I can’t do much if my hands are tied.”
“I’ll only tie them loosely, so you can free yourself. Just hold your arms apart so the bindings look tight.”
The giant black stallion was almost at the gate when Michael reached around her, grasped the lacing of her tunic and ripped it apart. Naomi’s breasts bounced into the night air, and she hissed at Michael.
“Why did you do that? It is necessary that I be naked as well as bound?”
Michael cupped her breasts in his large hands and squeezed gently.
“Don’t talk to me. You’re a slave remember? It needs to look as if you put up a fight,” he chuckled, “Besides, the guards will now be watching these lovelies instead of me.”
Naomi kicked back at him and connected with his shin, but only succeeded in hurting her heel.
“Stop it. We’re almost there.”
The stink of burnt, rancid animal fat from the torches assaulted Naomi’s nostrils at the same time the guard’s shout stopped them at the huge gate.
“Halt. What is your business in Pernetania?”
“Look closer and you’ll see I wear the tunic of a warrior. I have returned to join the garrison for their next battle, and have brought a gift for my King.”
“If you were a warrior, you would know the garrison has already gone.”
“On the last march, three of us left the main column to scavenge for food. The other two were killed by villagers. I dispatched the murderers, and captured this girl thinking that our King might like a new slave. Let me pass, to stay the night and give the King my gift. I’ll be on my way to join the others at daylight.”
“And what would Edvin want with a young girl?”
“Any warrior knows of her fondness for the softer sex to warm her bed, or perhaps you are not so close to our King as I.”
“Aye, I know of her likes. I also know if you’re lying, you’ll find out about another of her little joys. Enter, and let me see this slave you’ve brought.”
The massive oak gate swung open and Michael rode through. Naomi barely heard his whispered warning.
“Remember, you’re my captive and you’re afraid. Don’t move, no matter what happens. Edvin likes her girls timid.”
The guard stopped them with a brandished pike and a smirking laugh.
“Let me have a look at this girl.”
The guard walked to the side of the horse. Naomi felt a callused hand touch her knee. The hand slowly felt up her leg and under the short leather skirt. Fingers roughly parted the folds of her sex and sought to slip inside. She bit her lip to keep from kicking out at the leering, pock-marked face. The rough fingers poked, prodded and pulled at the soft lips and blonde curls. Slowly, the guard withdrew his hand and brought the fingers to his hooked nose. After inhaling deeply, he stuck the middle finger in his mouth and slurped.
“Ahh, she’s young and wet and sweet. Maybe I’ll just roust a couple o’ me friends and try her out, before you give her to the King. Guards never get to go out and find women like the warriors do. We have to settle for those old crones in the tavern.” Naomi felt his hand lift her breast and rub over the nipple.
“Yes, wet and sweet, and her jugs are heavy with hard little teats. A pleasing comfort she would be,” Michael’s reply was spoken in a playful manner, but Naomi heard the underlying threat, “Well, with any other woman, I would happily join you, but that would be a stupid thing with this one. This pretty flower has not yet been picked, and the King has a particular fondness for unused girls. She would not like it were you to soil her prize.”
Michael stared calmly at the guard and placed his hand on the pommel of his sword.
“Nor would I.”
Naomi caught the flash of fear that shone in the guard’s eyes.
“I-I see what you mean. Still … , but then it wouldn’t do to lose one’s head, so to speak, over a mere girl, would it?”
Michael looked at the guard with a flat smile.
“No, it wouldn’t … so to speak.”
Finding the palace was not difficult. It was the largest building inside the fortress, and five guards stood at the entrance. Now that Michael had managed to enter the garrison, he was just another warrior and no one challenged him. He pulled Naomi from the horse, and carried her into the palace over his shoulder. A frightened looking slave stood just inside the entrance, and Michael ordered her to announce his gift to the King. Naomi’s eyes were wide in amazement at the sumptuous furnishings. In her home so many years ago, there had been three rough wood chairs, a table, and a sleeping pallet. Since that time, her furniture had been forest logs or boulders, and she slept in trees or on the ground. Everywhere she looked in this room were vases fashioned of gold and silver, rich tapestries, and seats of the finest wood and leather. She was about to comment when a woman’s voice barked a question.
“Who disturbs me at my evening meal? What is this story of the gift of a slave?”
“It is I, one of your humble warriors, my King. I have brought this young girl to be slave to you. She is untouched by any man, and I believed you might have use for her.”
Naomi cringed at the sight of the woman. The myth lived in the vision before her. Edvin was dressed in the finest silk, but the splendid fabric could not hide the wildness in her green eyes or the lines in her face. Before the madness changed kindness to torture and love to perversion, she might have been beautiful. The woman who stood before them looked as hard as the weathered granite cliffs outside Belorra, and as bitter as the taste of vinegar. Even the auburn hair reflected her decline into the pits of cruelty. The long tresses were shot through with white.
“She is unworthy, but since you brought her, I will find something for her to do. I would see her naked, to make sure you have not marked her by your rough treatment. If she is pleasing, perhaps I may put her in the wine house. The guards are always grumbling about the women there.”
“Of course, my King.”
Michael drew his dagger and moved between Naomi and the King.
“When she asks you to remove your boots, you must find some way to keep your dagger. It’s the only weapon I can leave with you.”
He sliced through Naomi’s tunic and skirt and ripped them from her body. She stood naked in front of the witch.
“See, my King, I left no marks.”
“Yes, but it looks as if she could do with a bath. Abigail!”
The same timid slave approached from the doorway.
“Take this wench and give her a bath. Then take her to the room next to mine.”
As Naomi left with the slave, the King turned to Michael.
“You thought well to bring me a slave, and your efforts will be well rewarded. I shall send a servant to the tavern with my order. Food, drink, a bed, and the women of your choice shall be yours for the night.”
“I thank you, my King, but the garrison is on the move. I shall but eat and sleep before leaving to join them.”
Michael breathed a sigh of relief when he passed through the palace door. It was going well, but it had been difficult to keep from striking down the woman who killed his father and took his heritage. If he was successful, in two days, everything would be put right again. The tavern would be his first stop, as it figured well into his plan. Drunken men were always easier to subdue than sober ones, and at least half of the guards were sure to be drinking and bedding the whores in their off duty hours. These he would probably not have to kill. The rest, well, his task was to capture Edvin, but he would kill them if he must …
Chapter Thirteen Preparations
###
Naomi had never felt the pleasure of hot water. Peasants did not experience such luxury. The slave girl, Abigail, had taken her to this room and said she should remove her boots and get into the basin. Naomi waited until Abigail turned her back, and slipped the dagger under the water. She stepped into the steaming pool, shrieked, and looked up to see Abigail watching with a smile.
“Is it not wonderful? Before I was taken into slavery, I never dreamed of such things. Sit down, slowly, and you will see.”
Every nerve of her skin tingled as Naomi sank into the depths of the bath. Heat enveloped her, seeped into every fibre of her body, and nibbled away at the stress of the task before her. After secreting the dagger between her thighs, she closed her eyes in the warmth. Small noises told her Abigail was doing something behind her, but Naomi was not prepared to feel the woman join her in the bath. She turned and looked into the smiling face of a very naked Abigail.
“I am to wash you for the King. Please do not struggle. If I fail, I will be beaten. Besides, I think you will enjoy it.”
Naomi was tense as the young woman’s legs slipped around hers. Since the day her mother was killed, she had never felt another woman’s body. Abigail’s was soft and ripe with the lush curves of womanhood. Breasts pressed into her back as the slave girl slipped the headband from Naomi’s brow and began to sluice water over the long blonde tresses. The scent of sweet fruits wafted into her nostrils. Abigail was pouring something into her hand.
“This is for washing. It will leave you clean with a pleasing scent.”
Naomi’s only thought was that the sensations of Abigail’s hands washing her hair were the most wonderful she had ever experienced. She relaxed completely. All too soon, Abigail was rinsing the lather away.
“Now, I must wash your body. The King insists that her slaves be very clean.”
Naomi felt small, soft hands gently rubbing her neck and then slipping down over her back. Her whole body tingled again at the velvet touch. The hands moved to her sides and over her arms. Just as she was beginning to enjoy this new feeling, the hands moved over her shoulders and touched the upper surface of her breasts. Naomi stiffened.
“Do not be afraid. I have done this for others, and will give you only feelings of pleasure. Soon, you will learn to enjoy my touch.”
The combination of the satiny palms and the slippery bathing oil was too much to resist. The slave girl gently, but firmly, rubbed the cleansing lotion over the tops of Naomi’s breasts before moving around to the sides. In a moment, the hands cupped both her breasts and slipped over the underside. It was natural that they would slip from the slave girl’s palms, and Naomi gasped when her nipples brushed over slippery fingertips.
“See, I said you would enjoy my touch. The King will be very pleased with you, I’m sure. You react in much the same way as I at my first time.”
Naomi had no time to consider this comment. The hands were on her belly and moving down. As Abigail reached forward to stroke Naomi’s knees, the slave girl’s taut nipples bored into Naomi’s back. The sensation was new … , and it was exhilarating. Naomi found her body reacting with a familiar tension deep in her belly. A wave of tingles swept through her when Abigail’s fingers found the inside of her thighs and slowly slipped up.
“The King demands that you be clean everywhere, even where she can not see. Oh … , what is this?”
Naomi grabbed the slave girl’s wrist tightly, retrieved the dagger, and placed it at Abigail’s throat.
“It is a dagger, you fool. Cry out, and you’ll be the first to feel it’s bite.”
“You mean to kill the King?”
“No. But I will kill you if you try to warn her.”
“I will not say anything if you take me with you.”
“Take you with me? Take you where? I didn’t say I was going anywhere.”
“You are going to do something and then leave. I will be killed for allowing this without telling the King.”
“Just tell me what will happen tonight. If you’re true to your word, I’ll take you away from this place when we go.”
“We? Then … the warrior who brought you … you do this deed together?”
“Just start talking about tonight. You’ll know everything soon enough.”
“After your bath is complete, I am to show you to the room beside the King’s. It is a room made for the pleasure of the body. There is a large bed with heavy posts at the corners. On each post is an iron ring. I am to tie your limbs to these rings with heavy straps, hands to the head, and feet to the foot. This is the King’s way with new women. She will enter the chamber and touch you all over. It is her custom to first pleasure her slave women with her hands and lips. This is why you must be clean. She will soon place her lips on the petals of your flower and begin licking and suckling. I speak with honesty; the feeling is very pleasant. You will begin to feel warm all over, especially inside. Soon, a feeling will overtake your senses, and you will cry out and shake. Afterwards, you will feel very nice. I was about to show you before … before I found the dagger.”
“And this is all? What happens next?”
“Next, the King will expect you to do the same for her. It is not unpleasant. I have grown to enjoy pleasuring her almost as much as when she pleasures me.”
“And how can I do this if I am tied hand and foot?”
“The King will sit astride your face that you can reach her flower with your mouth.”
“And then, after I have pleasured her?”
“If she is pleased, she will make you a palace slave, as she did me. If not, you will be sent to the tavern to service the warriors and guards.”
“I think I won’t wait for her decision. If you’ll help me, I’ll spare your life and take you away from here. If not … I have never taken the life of another woman, but I will do so to save my own.”
“I do not enjoy life as a slave. The King treats me well, but can be very harsh. I fear that as I grow older, she may not favour me so much and I will end up as a whore. The other slaves say these women are pawed by the warriors and forced to service their needs with every opening of their bodies. Sometimes they must service three or more at once. I do not wish to become a whore. What must I do?”
Chapter Fourteen Return to the Palace
###
The warriors in the tavern had been an easy conquest. Michael had simply bought round after round of wine using the word of the King as money. After the seventh, two of the eight guards had slumped to the floor. Three more draughts were required before the last was sleeping soundly in a corner. The seven concubines were overjoyed. At his suggestion, and with a gift of three bottles of the wine master’s best, they retired to their rooms. Only the tavern keeper presented any problem; that problem was soon solved with a stout blow to his jaw.
Michael had learned from the drunken guards that two men patrolled each of the two fortress gates, the five he had already seen were all that watched the palace, and that another five were confined to the guard quarters in case of an emergency. He tallied the numbers and cursed the warrior who had surrendered the information and the tunic. Twenty-two guards in all. He would have to accommodate the extra two in some way. After sloshing wine over his tunic, Michael made his way to one of the gates. The guards laughed as he staggered up and offered them a drink. They asked if he had sampled the other wares of the tavern, and he started a slurred story about a brown-haired woman. They were standing close in order to hear, and never saw the quick slash of the fists that turned their world black. Michael tied and propped them at their posts, and they appeared to have simply fallen asleep. The second gate proved easier than the first. This was the gate through which he and Naomi had entered the fortress, and the guard recognized him. His offer of a drink was accepted. While the pock-faced guard tipped the bottle, Michael knocked out of the other. He barely avoided the sword that whistled past his belly. The pock-faced guard was fast, but not fast enough to side-step Michael’s lunge. He died choking at the broadsword that pierced his throat. Michael counted the guards standing outside the palace entrance. The five were still there. On a good day, he could hope to kill two or three. Five were too many. He would have to think of a way to separate them into smaller groups …
Chapter Fifteen Prepared for the Lord Collector’s Pleasure
###
Naomi walked before Abigail to the pleasure room. The large oaken door swung quietly on it’s hinges as they stepped through. Naomi was amazed again, although this time, the implements of lust were the cause. Numerous whips and straps of leather hung from hooks on one wall. The huge bed with it’s iron rings stood against another, and was lit with candles affixed to holders on each side. The bed was remarkable in itself, but her attention was drawn to the table at one side. It was covered with replicas of stiff male organs. Some appeared to be of wood, some of stone, and one in the centre was long, thick, and covered with gold.
“The King uses these to pleasure her female slaves and herself. This basin of oil is to ease their passage into the body. I have been required to use them on myself, at times, for her pleasure. They are not so nice as the touch of her fingers, but if I close my eyes and think very hard, I can make them feel as if a man is entering me,” Abigail giggled, “At least I imagine it is what a man would feel like. The stone ones are very cold, though. I would think a real man would be much warmer.”
“Let’s get this over with. You remember what we agreed? And you remember that Michael or I will kill you if you go back on your word?”
“Yes, I remember, and you need not fear.”
Naomi soon lay on the bed with the appearance of being secured by straps at each arm and leg. In truth, the straps were merely tied with a slender thread. It would take only a small effort for Naomi to get free. The dagger had been hidden in the robe she wore to the room, and was now secreted beneath the coverlet at her right hand. Abigail had been gone only a moment before a door opened and the King stepped into the room …
Chapter Sixteen The Guards
###
The trouble with guards, thought Michael, is that they usually fear being alone. All five were clustered about the door to the palace. If there were only some way to split them up. As he sought for a method, the palace door opened and he saw the slave girl. In a moment, one of the guards went inside and the door closed again. Well, four was better than five, but still too many to overcome quietly. Perhaps …? He went to the stable and returned with the black stallion. He had often ridden on one side or the other, one foot hooked in a strap and the other in the stirrup. It was a way of shielding himself from the arrows of an enemy; it would now serve to shield him from the eyes of the guards. With a whispered command, the stallion walked past the front of the palace. To the guards, he appeared to be a loose horse, and two followed to catch the stray animal and return him to the stable. Michael continued to ride until out of the light of the palace torches and in the shadows of another building. He was waiting when the guards rounded the corner. The pommel of his sword sent both into unconsciousness. Now he had only to wait for them to be missed. He was surprised at how quickly the next one came looking for his comrades. The two seemed to be sleeping against the wall of the building and the searcher shouted for them to wake up. Michael was unseen and unheard when he slipped behind the man and bashed his head. Now that they were subdued, it was necessary to keep them so. Michael bound all four hand and foot with rope. As a second precaution, each received a leather strap across his mouth.
Were it not for the reserve guards, it would have been a simple matter to mount the stallion and charge the last guard at the palace door. The noise of such a scene would summon the reserve as well as the guard inside, and he could not risk the brash attack. As it was, only a few more minutes would pass before the remaining guard began to question why the others had not returned, and call for reinforcements. The reserve guards must be neutralised, and Michael had already formed the plan. He had need of a small army, and the tavern keeper had been kind enough to supply one …

Chapter Seventeen The Lord Collector’s Amusements
###
The King tortures a woman prisoner and lets a guard mate with her. Then she tortures him.
Chapter Eighteen The Lord Collector’s Pleasure
###
The King stood beside the bed. Naomi was surprised that so evil a face could belong with such a lush body. Edvin slipped the silk robe from her shoulders and let it pool on the polished stone floor. Her breasts stood proudly below the sensuous hollow of her throat. The King’s sleek body tapered to a narrow waist and then swelled into full ripe hips. Every movement of the long, slender legs held the quiet grace of a panther. The fascination was short lived. Naomi saw the mad glint in Edvin’s eyes, and the cruel smile that was almost a sneer. There was little doubt the woman was insane. Naomi only hoped her movements would be fast enough, and that Abigail would be true to her word. Edvin reached out to touch Naomi’s breast. Silk-soft fingers lightly stroked the nipple, then grasped it and pinched hard. Naomi yelped in pain, and nearly drew the dagger at that moment. She bit her lip. Abigail needed more time.
“If you do as I bid, great pleasure shall be yours. If not, you will beg for an end to pain that will not stop.”
Naomi feigned fear and innocence, “Oh, please, mistress. Do not hurt me. I know not what you wish of me, but I will do my best to please you.”
“Good … , good. The warrior who brought you here said you have not yet been made a woman. Be this true? I will know if you lie.”
“Yes, it is true. Only my own hand has touched me there, and never deeply.”
“Well, we shall begin with a smaller instrument, then, to play a softer tune.”
Edvin moved to the table, lifted and replaced several of the items, and finally selected one of wood. She dipped it into the basin of oil, and returned to the bedside.
“Be at ease, child. I am about to give you pleasure beyond thought.”
Edvin gently caressed Naomi’s breasts and then slipped her hand to the small slit between her thighs. The slender fingers parted the folds and rubbed the wood shaft up and down.
“No man will ever make you feel as I do. No man will be so gentle. No man can understand the ways of a woman’s body.” Edvin leant over Naomi’s thighs to inhale the scent, “Yes … , the scent of an unsoiled woman is very exciting. I will taste of your pleasures soon, after this shaft brings the flood of your nectar.”
Naomi felt the wooden manhood slowly slip between her lips and gently probe deeper. Something inside her was being stretched, and the feeling was one of pain. She cried out.
“Ahh, so you did not lie. Even the smallest of my instruments is too large for you. This is better than I had hoped. The thought of claiming your innocence excites me, but I shall save your maidenhead for another time. I need to taste of your sweets, and to have you taste of mine.”
Edvin tossed the wooden shaft on the bed and used her fingers to separated Naomi’s soft lips.
“Warm and pink, you are, and the nectar is flowing without my tool. You will enjoy my –”
Edvin felt the needle point of the dagger at her throat.
“You are free. But … how?”
“I’m free and that’s enough for you to know. I will gladly slit your throat if you move even a bit. This dagger would taste of your sweet blood, just as you would have of me. Now, stand, but slowly, as I rise with you.”
Chapter Nineteen Honey for the Guards
###
Michael gingerly lifted the humming baskets and backed away. He had found the place just where the tavern keeper had said. Row upon row of conical, straw baskets served as homes for honey bees that furnished honey for the King. Tonight, they would serve as Michael’s army, and would enable him to defeat the rest of the guards. He had been stung four times trying to stuff straw plugs into the hive openings, but as soon as he passed from the area, no more bees bothered him. The guard’s living quarters were just ahead. The five guards were apparently asleep, as no sound came through the walls. After securing a length of rope through the iron handle, Michael eased the door open enough to step inside. The sleeping men lay naked in the weak candle light, and snored away on their bed ticks of straw. Michael threw one of the hives at the largest guard and was satisfied that it burst in the man’s face. Angry bees boiled from the sodden mass of straw and honey. He threw the second against the wall. The guards screamed, Michael stepped back outside the door, and tied the rope to a thick pole he placed across the opening. By the time the guards managed to open the door, they would not feel much like fighting. Their cries already filtered through the log walls. He quickly moved down the street to the palace. The lone guard was still standing at the door, and appeared to be growing impatient with the absence of the others. Michael strode quickly at the man with his broadsword at the ready. It was the man’s good fortune to be a coward at heart. He turned and ran in the direction of the guard house. Michael mounted the long flight of steps by twos and burst through the heavy door. A few more strides brought him to the centre of the room. Where would she be? The tavern keeper had known nothing of the inside of the palace. He took a few steps down a hallway before a woman’s voice stopped him.
Chapter Twenty Reunited
###
“Sir, this way, but quickly. I fear the guard is waking up.”
The slave girl led the way up a winding stair and stopped before a door. She knocked three times, then again. The door opened, and Michael was relieved to see Naomi standing before him.
“Quickly. Come inside. I have tied the guard and King. Did you find Charmer?”
“Don’t worry. The other guards will not bother us for a while. Except for your ugly friend at the gate, they either sleep, or are fighting their own battle. Your friend, I’m afraid, will never taste the charms of another woman. Charmer is in the stable, and you need to put on some clothes.”
Chapter Twenty-one To Asterton
###
Michael sat behind the King on the black stallion’s broad back. She would be no trouble to them. Naomi had used the collars and straps from the pleasure room to bind the evil woman, and she could do no more than sit naked in the saddle and emit muffled screams from beneath the leather hood. Naomi and Abigail rode Charmer. Soon, the torches of Pernetania were only a yellow glow behind them. The sun was high overhead when the buildings of a town pierced the horizon. In two more hours, they rode through the streets of Asterton amid the gasps of the milling populace. Michael stopped in front of a large barn-like structure and dragged Edvin from the saddle. With one hand on the back of the hood and the other on the strap that passed between her thighs and around her waist, he dragged her to the step. The door opened to his insistent pounding and a fat man appeared.
“Aziz, here is the vile wench, just as the king asked. I want my reward.”
The fat man smiled at Michael, then to the crowd that had gathered, and softly replied, “Yes, yes, in due time … , if this is indeed Edvin.”
A buzz surged through the crowd, and those in front moved closer when Michael pulled the hood from Edvin’s head. She immediately began spitting oaths and threats.
“You son of a puss-dripping sewer rat. I’ll have your manhood roasting on the spit while I feed you your own balls. And that blonde girl. I’ll bind her across a bench, and have her deflowered by a cart horse. You’ll – “
“I’ll put the hood back on if you don’t still this screaming. Edvin, the son has avenged the father you killed twelve years ago. I shall rule Kingstown, and you shall have another king’s army,” Michael chuckled, “Perhaps it would be better put to say a king’s army shall have you. Naomi will have a much nicer fate.”
He looked at the slender blonde woman at his side.
“She will take your place as my King if she so desires.”
Chapter Twenty-two Return to Pernetania
###
They arrived in Pernetania the next afternoon. No challenge was given, and the heavy gate swung open at their approach. Two guards saluted as Michael and Naomi rode into the fortress.
“How is this? The guards know you as their king, yet we have just two days ago captured Edvin.”
“Naomi, some of the Kingstown troops were loyal to my father, and remained so after his death. They had no love for Edvin. They took me to safety in Asterton, and placed me with the king there. It was from them that I gained knowledge of the attack on Carterton. They quietly drifted away from the garrison as it marched to it’s death, and arrived here soon after we departed. You have nothing to fear from any of them. They would defend me, and you, with their very lives.”
Michael and Naomi stood in the pleasure room, and Michael stared at the leather straps that hung from the walls.
“Edvin brought you here? This looks more like a torture room than a room for pleasure.”
“My lady, your bath is ready.”
Naomi turned at the voice. Abigail stood in the open doorway. She smiled and lowered her face.
“I came ahead, my lady. If it please you, I would stay to serve you and the king.”
Naomi turned back to Michael. It was obvious that he had played some part in this.
“Abigail begged to come back. I think she’s quite stricken with her new mistress. It might be nice, having your own personal servant. She tells me she has many talents.”
“I’ll think about it while I have my bath.”
Naomi stepped into the steaming water and slowly lowered herself to the warm stone bottom. The feeling of calm and complete relaxation quickly overtook her. The years since that day in Medcaster had passed quickly, but their toll had been dear. Now, the past was floating in the mists of her memory, and the future began to blossom in her imagination. She was unsure of becoming a queen, unsure about giving up her free life, and unsure of what might happen with Michael. Over the last few days, he had become ever-present in her mind. Feelings foreign to her had surfaced whenever he was near, whenever he touched her, whenever he spoke.
“Would my lady enjoy having her hair washed?”
Naomi smiled at the thought.
“Yes, it’s a most wonderful feeling.”
The sensations were again exquisite. Soft hands gently working the cleansing liquid through her hair. Sensuous touches to her scalp made chills run down her spine. It was strange that Abigail hadn’t joined her, as before, but the hands on her hair were Naomi’s only current concern. She felt water pour over her head as Abigail rinsed away the lather.
‘Ahh, now she joins me,’ thought Naomi.
The soft plop of Abigail stepping into the bath made her smile. Legs slipped around her hips and cradled her. They were … they were covered with hair. She felt the coarse strands against her skin. Naomi opened her eyes to see Abigail smile and walk out of the room. Large hands began lathering her shoulders and back.
“Abigail isn’t the only one who knows how to give a bath. I’m rather good at the task. There will be other baths with Abigail.”
The feel of his hands on her skin was very different. Abigail’s touch was feather light, and her hands were as soft as goose down. Michael’s hands were gentle, but she sensed strength and urgency in his motions. He stroked the fragrant liquid over her back. A wave of tingles swept from Naomi’s shoulders to her hips and she shuddered.
“I think the lady enjoys my hands.”
Never in her life had a man touched her in this way. She fought at the rising feeling she did not understand, but did not want to stop. Naomi closed her eyes again and lay back against the muscled chest. Michael was gentle when he touched her breasts for the first time. He knew Naomi was unused to being touched. His motions were gentle when he stroked the sides of her firm mounds. They were gentle when he lifted them to cleanse the undersides. He did not miss the slight gasp when he stroked over the nipples, nor the fact that they rose as if to press more firmly into his palms. It was pleasant to gently roll them over her chest to work in the lather. To let the rigid nipples slide beneath his palms was unavoidable. Just as unavoidable was the increase in the heart beat he felt beneath the soft, yielding flesh in his hands.
‘This feels different from when he touched my back. It’s a little like when Abigail touched me. I feel warmth and …’ Naomi sought for the words in her mind, ‘and … I feel as if I’m going to burst if I don’t touch him.’
She let her hand slip over the leg that cradled her hips. More strange tingles raced from her fingertips as she felt the muscles contract beneath the tight skin. Her belly tensed when Michael’s hands slipped over her ribs and circled the low mound. Suddenly, as his fingertips glided softly over the satin surface, there was a pulling, deep in her belly. His fingers slipped lower and swirled through the blonde curls. Naomi’s heart raced. The fingertips found her slit and rubbed over her lips. The pulling became almost an ache. She spread her thighs wide to give him more room.
“The bath is no place to continue this. Abigail has prepared the bed in the pleasure room.”
Michael rose to his knees, slipped his arm under her hips, and lifted her as he stood. They left a trail of small puddles from the bath to the pleasure room. He laid her on the soft towels Abigail had placed on the bed, picked up another towel and patted her dry. Naomi lay watching motionless while he dried himself. Her gaze took in the strong back and chest, the thick legs, and did not miss the hard organ that stood proudly from his body. The stiff shaft held an attraction for her. She knew it to be the organ of creation, and her mother had explained how it was used. No one had explained that she would want to touch it, to hold it in her hand. She reached towards him and brushed her fingertip over the surface. It jerked higher. She marvelled at how soft was the skin compared to the rest of his body. Michael’s chuckle and smile made her blush.
“My little charger wants you, too, but I shall be easy in introducing him.”
Gently, Michael lifted her off the wet cloths, removed them and lay her back on the silk bedcover. He walked to the bedside table, ignored the phallic replicas, and dipped his fingers in the small basin of oil.
“This will ease your passage from girl to woman.”
The bed sagged as Michael sat beside her. Naomi watched as he leant over her face. The kiss caught her off-guard for a moment. She gave in to the urge to part her lips, and felt and tasted his mouth on hers. She also felt his fingertip brush down her inner thigh and back up her slit. It was more glib this time, because of the oil, and slipped between her lips. The sensation was as if she had caught fire. Naomi raised her knees and let her legs fall open. The finger moved back down and pressed gently against the opening to her inner self. With no conscious command, her hips lifted to press the finger deeper. Michael was not to be rushed. The first virgin to fall to his charms had been hurt by his clumsy attempts. He had not repeated the mistake, nor would he do so now. He maintained contact with the warm, wet entrance, but allowed his finger to penetrate no further. All women were different in their enjoyment of caresses. Some liked firm, quick rubbing motions and others were more comfortable with slow, soft caresses. He began slowly. No fold of her guardian petals did he overlook. When he judged her arousal to be well along, he sought the little sentry that hid beneath his pink cloak. Teasing touches and circular caresses woke the bud from sleep. Naomi thrust hard into his hand and cried out.
The ache of need swept over Naomi as a raging river sweeps it’s banks. When Michael’s lips closed over her nipple, her belly tightened and forced a low moan from her lips. His tongue brushed the rigid tip at the same time his finger found the place she thought only she knew. Contractions swept her belly. Had she been able to listen to herself, she would have been shamed by the low grunt. Her mind was centred on her nipple and the tiny throbbing nubbin. The belly contractions expanded to her hips. They rocked up towards the fingertip at each touch. Michael’s finger slipped inside her passage and began to move slowly in and out. Naomi’s face rolled to the side, then back. Michael changed position on the bed, but she barely noticed. Her body was becoming tense and she felt as when riding up a hill. Some new vista was on the other side, and she knew that it would burst into her sight as she topped the rise. The finger that stroked her passage and brushed her tiny nubbin brought her closer to the top with each movement. Naomi took no notice when the finger left the opening in her cleft. At first, she did not feel the large, firm, object that replaced it. She only felt the swirling caress that made her breathless and a steady pressure. She opened her eyes and looked down the length of her body.
Michael was kneeling between her thighs. He moved slightly and the pressure increased, His body moved back, then forward again. Naomi felt the tip of his shaft press against her maidenhead. The pressure stayed while Michael’s fingertip moved more quickly, and brought a stronger tightening to her belly. Her hips thrust into the man who penetrated her most secret of places. The sound began as a low hum, raised to a moan, and became an animal cry as the first wave of release swept her. Naomi felt the small pain as Michael buried himself deeply in her rippling passage, but the sensation was swept into oblivion by the second surge that raced through her body. The movement of the shaft that pierced her served only to make the sensations of pleasure beyond her comprehension. Naomi’s body arched and drove itself over Michael’s thrusting manhood. The splash of his seed deep inside her body caused her mind to explode in a phantasm of sound and colours. Naomi opened her eyes into Michael’s smiling face.
“My little avenger has become a woman, and a very passionate woman for one so young.”
She smiled and stretched sensuously.
“Is it always this way, between a man and a woman?”
“No. It becomes better as time teaches them about each other.”
“Then we must do this often. I want to learn quickly.”
“And so you shall, my queen, so you shall.”
 
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