tagSci-Fi & FantasyBalder's Saga Ch. 04: Luck

Balder's Saga Ch. 04: Luck


Well, they would die here and no one would know except the sands, the merciless, storming sands.

Balder kept his shield up as they trudged through the dunes, trying his best to keep the sand from buffeting him and Hassana. Every gust felt like it would wrench his shield off, arm and all. The clinging hands of the ebony woman, and her yelps as the sand blasted away from under them, were a constant reminder of the danger they were in. Another buffet of wind sent the pair to the ground and rolling, right into the dunes.

Balder coughed, only to choke on sand and cough again. Hassana pulled him up as the sand blinded him. He couldn't hear her, but she was pulling at him frantically. He sluggishly followed- only to be thrown into the air and roll a good ten feet away. When he managed to look up he saw a worm, but not the kind he was used to. It had bony mandibles, a leathery hide, and an almost petal-like crown. It remained the air for a few moments, before slowly receding into the sand.

The pair ran as fast as they could in any direction. Every rumble of the earth and every buffet of the sands a constant reminder of the death that hounded them every night. "What are those?" Balder asked as Hassana leaned against him. They had taken refuge in a ruin of sandstone pillars. Even the architecture of this place could not survive.

"Hyenas." Hassana replied. "They're like wolves of the desert. They hunt in packs and consume everything." She was resting her head on Balder's shoulder, panting as sand clung to the beads of sweat on her skin.

"Will they leave?"

"Eventually. But I guess we're hiding here-" she stopped herself and looked around, furrowing her brow and moving towards one of the walls.

"What?" Balder asked. "Here what?"

"These are... old." Hassana stated, running her hands along the faded hieroglyphics.

"How does that help us?" Balder replied, rubbing his bruised shield arm.

"It should tell us where we are, if the tale being told on this wall is the same as the inscriptions on the map." She said, before holding out her hand. Balder grumbled but reached into his satchel.

The same one that was missing.

"No no no." Balder said frantically, removing his belt and throwing everything to the ground. "It has to be here!" His pants came off and he shook them about, not even caring sand was blowing right into his crotch. "How did-" and then it struck him.

"Sand eruptors." Hassana said out loud. "They probably grabbed it when we ran... Or the storm may have blown it off you. Or..." a dozen other things. Neither of them said it, but the obvious hung between them like a shroud.

Balder could not formulate a response. He simply collapsed into the sand and covered his face with his palm. He didn't know whether to be angry at the Shah for sending him here, or angry at himself for being such a failure. He would never be King. He might as well die out here, in a dry, hateful land. "It has all our food and water..."

Hassana squeezed Balders shoulder, only to be snubbed. The girl frowned, but let Balder wallow in his despair. "We can worry about it in the morning." She finally said.

Balder heard the familiar shift of the girls clothing but did not look back at her. They'd fucked once more after their initial close encounter, and the dark skin never ceased to amaze the pagan. But his mind was racing and his head throbbing. He'd lost the map.

Balder watched the desert with misty eyes, hating it with every ounce of his being. The shifting of the sands, the heat turning into chill, the storms— the strange thing watching them in the distance. It was a humanoid form, standing over yonder, unmoving until Balder blinked. It was gone and the hyenas turned and ran. Silence fell on the cooling desert. Balder drew his sword and trudged out of the ruins. He sliced through air, bellowed at the wind, and slammed his fists into his chest like an animal.

"A King lost the only map that could help him delay a losing war?" A feminine voice said. Balder turned to see a woman, her form hugged in dark blue robes and embroidered with seaweed, saunter towards him. A pale hand hovered above her thigh, and the other gripped a staff made of whalebone.

"Valdis?" Balder said in disbelief, gripping his sword tighter. Was it really her?

It may as well have been, with the hideous smile and the dangerous eyes. "How does it feel to know I'm winning? The desert delays you?"

"How did you get here!? You mock me, you monstrous bitch!?" Balder snarled, before swinging his sword at her. It sliced through her form, though it only shimmered. She was gone. Balder looked around anxiously.

She was never here. Mirages... Hassana warned him about them. Tricks of the mind, tools of the desert. He sheathed his sword and headed back into the ruin. "Hassana?" He called out. Nothing answered him. The clothes she had stripped out of were still there, but the woman herself was not. Did she leave to relieve herself? Balder noticed something else in the sand. Foot prints faded and almost consumed by the sand.

And another mirage, leaping over the dunes. Several of them, in fact.


Hassana didn't know what was happening. Her body was numb, it had been that way ever since they muffled her with a rag. She bounced limply on the camel to which she was tied, and could feel the heat of another body against her side. A sack of flour, that's what she was. It did feel... good though. The utter helplessness, the submission, the way her breasts bounced over the edge of the camel. A strange pain, but a good one.

"What did you find?' A voice rang out. Somewhere.

"Caliph girl," another stated. " of tribal blood."

"Southerner?" another voice echoed. Hassana felt something lift her head up by the black curls. "Pretty."

"And young." A loud clap echoed in Hassana's ears and she felt her backside wobble from the rough spanking. Another one came, and she moaned without thinking. It felt good, her inhibitions weakened and the utter helplessness tugging at her lower tummy. Her form was yanked off the camel and carried away. She was coming back to her senses shortly, eyes looking about and head craning. Three orbs of light danced nearby and there were a dozen or so pairs of legs. Some young, some old- but all of them men. She didn't mean for it to happen, but Hassana was unable to stop her tongue from lolling out as she was dropped onto the ground, and propped up against the support beam of a tent.

"Wake up." A stronger voice said. "Come to, little caliph."

Hassana wiped some drool from the corner of her mouth, whether from the numbing agent or her light arousal. "Who... Huh?" She took note of his feature, or what she could make out. Strong, athletic, skin the color of coastal coconuts- even having just as much hair.

"What are you, so beautiful and noble, doing out in the desert?" The stranger squeezed Hassana's cheeks. "Fancy yourself a raider of tombs?"

"I... uh..." Hassana couldn't speak properly due to her drugged state and partly because her lips were squished. "Balder..."

"Hm?" The captor raised an eyebrow and let her go. "Bald-er?"

"Yes..." Hassana was gaining more of her motor functions. "Balder. I expected you to be balder." She smiled and cocked her head. "You have a lot of hair."

Her captor looked shocked, angry, then amused. "Mm... Funny, girl. What is your name?"

"Lamia," Hassana wiggled her body back and forth, testing how much of her body she had control of. "like the snake girls."

"The ones who eat children?"

"I can swallow your children." She smiled, before trying to rise. Her legs were shaky. "With your permission?"

"Granted." The captor crossed his arms as Hassana slid against the beam, holding it tight. "Clever with words; a sensual woman. Calm, even when she could die at any moment."

"I know my place." She feigned submission. "Are you slavers?"

"We do many things. These deserts are ripe with ruins for picking and selling." He looked her up and down. "Though you are one of the luckiest finds. A woman, so far out, and beautiful."

"Mm... So you don't plan to sell me, but I will be a slave either way?"

"I would think so." The man took a step towards her, just half a head taller than Hassana. "I am Sulla. I lead this band of warriors."

"You are imposing." Hassana stated, noting his approval of such words. "I could expect no less." These actions were not uncommon to her. As a girl, she had been trained to please men with her words; soft gestures and praises. It kept her from being beaten, raped and perhaps even killed. 'Who would miss a bastard?' The Emira used to tell her, before leaving her alone in the bathes. As she got older, however, she knew men who desired more than soft words. She obliged, and forced herself to enjoy it. Such acts got her out of trouble, perhaps even win favors; such acts might be necessary now. She put a dark hand upon the chest of Sulla, dappling her fingers against his leathers. When was the last time this man had even touched a woman?

"You are a flatterer. Ishtar herself may have graced us with you as a prize." And Sulla pulled back from her, turning and walking over to a nearby desk.

Hassana followed, footsteps soft and submissive lest she disturb him. Her eyes caught site of a knife nearby. A quick grab, a stab, and she could try to free herself. But how many more men were outside? How far could she run, before the desert swallowed her whole? She only sighed softly, and peered over the shoulder of the male. "Is that a map?"

Sulla turned on Hassana and smiled. "Of the area, yes. But why should that concern you, Lamia, who is not a tomb raider?" He turned to face her, the map hidden from her sight. "And did I give you permission to leave your spot?"

"No... Master." It felt... appealing, to call someone that. "But I could not stand being far from you." Hassana lowered her gaze. "I am unworthy, but I could not be left without you nearby. Close to me. I am yours now, am I not?"

"You give yourself so easily, even with a quick tongue and a brain?" Disbelief was in the man's voice.

"I know my place." Hassana repeated. She lowered herself down to the ground. "And that place is wherever you decide; whether it be in the underworld with the slain, chained and sold in the markets... Or kept by your side, showing you the attention you deserve and relieving you of the stressful build up that comes with being a true man among lessers." She planted a kiss upon his thigh and lowered her gaze.

Sulla was utterly her creature that moment, and Hassana knew this. His hand came down and angled her face upwards to him, to his smile and his amusement. "Ishtar truly had blessed me, to find you within these forgotten ruins."

"A blessing you bear well..." Hassana ran her hands up and down his thighs. "A task that had kept you away from the love of Ishtar herself, of the bodies she breathed life into." Lesser men loved to be related to the gods. If her life was to be a slave to some wastewalker savage, she might as well find a proper position within. Even if that position was underneath this man, or his soldiers, nightly.

Almost expectedly, Sulla inclined his head. "Lamia. You truly do devour children." As he spoke his laces came undone, his pants lowered, and his cock slapped Hassana right on the bridge of her nose. "Thankfully, I believe I have much young to give you."

Hassana was impressed, just a bit. The man had a sizable cock (perhaps an inch smaller than Balders) and a large pair of orbs. The coarse cushion of black hair surrounded his base and trailed down to his balls, flaring out and, unironically, reminding Hassana of coconuts. She had to suppress her laughter, as her tongue came out to lick the underside of that half-erect cock. It was a familiar one, lacking the foreskin she'd come to rather enjoy on Balder, and she knew exactly how to make the man feel pleasure.

Hassana traced her tongue along the glans of his crown, daintaly wrapping her hands around the base of his cock and keeping him steady. She slid her tongue back and forth on the groove beneath the crown, tickling the spot where his birthing ritual took place. A sensitive spot, and Sulla groaned in delight as Hassana worked. She lifted the cock upwards, running her lips and tongue up and down the underside, sucking lightly at the loose skin where that cock met the swollen orbs. She eventually settled there, sucking lightly, peppering his sack with soft kisses, finishing it by burying her lips between them and pushing her nose into the base.

In spite of the hair, Hassna was rather enjoying the way the man called out in pleasure. Lesser men desired these finer pleasures, though lasted poorly. While she was sucking on his balls Hassana felt them tighten and tense, before spraying hot ropes of pearl-white seed on her forehead and into her hair. She managed to angle herself back and take a few ropes onto her lips and tongue, mewling in delight and licking his cock clean. She smacked her lips together and sighed sensually, "I could devour more elsewhere..." She goaded, before rising and untying her tunic and skirt.

Sulla grinned with delight as Hassana was naked before him, the dark skin unblemished as the girl tugged at one nipple and groaned, before pulling Sulla's pants all the way down. The man kicked them away, and fell upon Hassana. They hit the ground with a light thud, and their lips locked. Hassana wanted to retch, the man tasting of nothing pleasant, but she suffered in silence. Not the first less than hygienic male to force her into such a position. Sulla pulled her legs apart and thrust, his cock rather pleasant in her undeniably wet folds. "Gods..." he said hotly, breaking their kiss.

"I am whatever you desire." Hassana started faking her pleasure as the man thrust. She felt his balls, wet from her attentions, clap against her backside. He pushed deeper than she would've expected. Her feet bounced with every thrust behind him, only lightly wrapped around his waist. In time Hassana was actually enjoying herself, panting louder than she was faking and loving the sensation of her breasts bouncing freely with each thrust. Her body betrayed her, and her sex tightened down on that cock, aching for it to remain inside her. Her nails raked against the male's back, which only allowed the thrusts to continue at a quicker, rougher pace.

Both of them were moaning, and both of them let out loud, satisfied noises as Sulla came inside Hassana. The man's second helping of seed flooding the depths of the ebony girl, hitting her deepest parts. Involuntarily she mewled as he pulled free, though his smile spoke differently of the future. The man walked to the flap of his tent and said something, only to turn back to Hassana and smile, as two of his soldiers came in. "You are mine." He stated. "These are mine." He patted the men on the back.

Nothing else was said as Hassana was lifted up to her knees. Sulla's seed ran down her thighs slowly as she was smacked by two cocks. She gripped them both and tugged, showing favor to one and then the other. Her tongue was more liberal than last time, sliding over the glazed tip of their crowns, sucking on the glans- moaning with delight as she was presented another pair of balls to worship, to feel run across her face as her tongue licked the backside of them. When did a third man appear? Who knew, but soon three cocks were smacking and sliding across Hassana's face, and she could only do so much to show them attention.

Thankfully, the men knew how to share a slave.

"Ah! Mmf~" Hassana moaned out, on her hands and knees and having her head held against the floor. It hurt, but gods it was a good pain. She'd never been sodomized before, but with the amount of lubrication offered she might consider doing it more often. The first man was a savage, pounding his cock into her ass mercilessly as his balls slapped against the drooling, cum-flooded folds of the ebony girl, grunting and groaning above her as his swollen belly swung lightly above her. Was it the size of his cock or his heavier weight that made the thrusting feel so heavy and rough? She couldn't think of it for too long, as her ass was soon flooded with warmth as the man came.

His companions did not take his place, surprisingly. At least not at first. Hassana was panting like a needy bitch in heat as they lifted her up. She instinctively, whether from the whorishly bastard blood in her veins or the want not to fall, wrapped her arm around the larger male's shoulders. She felt her body get sodomized once more, and yelled out in pain and pleasure. The sodomite did not start thrusting, however, pulling Hassana back into his muscle-bound form and leaving her legs spread and allowing for the other male to thrust into her folds.

Hassana rolled her eyes back as the men began to thrust, sandwiching her between their muscled and swollen forms. She felt like she was going to tear open, or at least the thin wall between her ass and her sex felt like it was. The two cocks pistoned upwards into her, and she could not stop from moaning out loud. Loud enough to wake the camp it seemed, as more men came into the tent, and subsequently her.

How many men did she fuck tonight? Some were repeats but surely more than a dozen. She was limp as another man dragged her along the floor and thrust into her, keeping her legs splayed as he humped into a properly flooded and raw pair of folds. Seed glazed her skin, offering a gloss to the ebony complexion and making a true mess of her hair. When it finally ended, and Hassana looked more like a piece of art painted in cum, did Sulla return. He smiled down at her, and kissed her glazed forehead. "Let's wash you up... I desire a proper bed companion tonight and I don't want her reeking of my men."

Paraded like a trophy, Hassana was carried out of the tent, naked and glazed, and towards a rather large cave in the mountainside. A large pool of hidden water was presented and revealed, only so she could be unceremoniously tossed into it. Her body floated there as her mind raced, trying to repair itself after such a rough, pleasurable experience. "My ass hurts." She said quietly, though it echoed throughout the cavern. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, submerging herself in the water, letting everything work its way out naturally while she regained her strength.

The screams from outside the cavern tore Hassana from her slumber and she thrashed in the water. She began to splash her face frantically and run her fingers through her hair. She heard Sulla, roaring commands only to suddenly go silent. She froze, and slipped out of the water and walked to the mouth of the cave. There was no fire to signal devastation; no animal corpses to signal an attack from the wilds; no enemy bodies littering the small camp.

The men who Hassana had fucked for what felt like hours lied strewn about, missing limbs and covered in blood and sand. She didn't even bother hiding her breasts as she picked up a sword from one of the corpses and looked around the camp. Just corpses and-

"Hassana!" A familiar voice rang out. Balder stood at the mouth of Sulla's tent, sword tempered in blood. More than a few cuts were present on his muscled form. "There you are! I thought something happened to you!" The pagan came up and squeezed the ebony tight, naked and all. "Where are you clothes?"

"I was captured," Hassana began "but I hid in a cave nearby, submerging myself in water until they thought I fled. I was too afraid to leave." Balder seemed to buy the story, and the girl was grateful.

"Well, I still have your dress from the ruins. Here, dressing lighter might keep you cooler." The pagan looked around the bloody camp, before spitting on the ground. "I'm going to find something to clean my blade, then we should probably pillage this place for supplies."

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