Eowyn: The Cage - Ch. 12a

Her cry at the initial penetration escalated into a wail. Despite all earlier manual and oral probing, despite her unprecedented sexual excitement, it was far from clear that her sex could accept a organ of this size without unprecedented effort. Memory of her failure with Aragorn loomed ever larger, and she tensed around his shaft, beset by doubts.

Soothing her with gentle whispers, he waited for the tension to fade. Withdrawing until his glans was barely nestled between her stretched-open lips, he paused to let her recover and prepare, then slid carefully inward once again. And again. And again. Over and over he repeated his patient forays, each invasion a little deeper than the previous, his eyes never leaving hers as he navigated the narrow course between discomfort and pleasure. Éowyn's moans were continuous, rising in pitch each time he pressed deep within, then descending to a throaty gurgle whenever he abandoned her widening channel. As he pushed deeper still, she felt an unfamiliar pressure against some sort of internal barrier; a feeling she'd never before experienced, much less imagined. He still wasn't fully embedded, yet continued probing caused increasingly sharp jolts...not of pain, exactly, but something decidedly not pleasurable. And so, he stopped.

They rested that way for a moment, Brethil still deeply embedded but allowing her sheath to grow accustomed to his great size, Éowyn coming to grips with the stunning realization that his mighty tower was almost entirely buried in her very recently virginal womanhood. How is it possible that I've come so far, so quickly?

As if by silent accord, they began to move again...one against the other, gingerly at first, then with increasing enthusiasm. Every thrust sent unimaginable shockwaves of pleasure flowing through her body. The impulsive shedding of her virginity with Théo had been equal parts emotion and eroticism; this was a raw, atavistic coupling that threatened to permanently reshape her sexuality, rendering the impossible not only desirable, but necessary.

The pace of his strokes increased, and she wrapped her arms around his back and gripped his flexing buttocks. Bodies slapping against one another, he grunted as she cried out in rising passion, trying to stave off the urgent compulsion to come, wanting to join him at the moment of climax. A high-pitched wail announced Éowyn's surrender to the inevitable, Brethil's grunts lost any semblance of rhythm, and he unloaded a furious barrage of semen deep inside her cunt. Though simultaneous peaks they crashed, rutting and grinding against one another, blind and deaf to all else.

Spent — at least for the moment — he collapsed atop her lithe body, panting heavily while she struggled to take in any form of breath at all under his weight. His deflating penis slid from her foamy sex, her center tunneled open in his sudden absence, her reddened lips swollen and smeared with his clinging release.

In his smoldering eyes she read not only affection, but perhaps the first stirrings of something more. Though neither her gratitude nor her arousal wavered, inside she turned away from such pointless emotions.

I don't wish to love him, nor to be loved in return. Especially not now, while my lust rages yet unsated for more than just him. Tonight is about sex and only sex: sex without consequence, sex without emotion, sex without remorse. Even if, one day, we chance to rediscover each other beyond the mere rutting of flesh, I doubt I'd pursue love. Not now, and perhaps not ever. Love has scorned and rejected me, yet my body burns with a flame inextinguishable, and I'd let that fire rage until it consumes me and anyone in its path. For what else remains to me?

Brethil levered himself from the cot, and Arlepheg immediately tumbled into the empty space between her wide-open legs, grinning with eagerness. She put a hand on his chest, conscious of the liquid chaos between her thighs. "Wait, let me...."

"Not yet. I deem we'll need it." His mushroom-shaped head forcefully displaced her folds, its great size stretching even her much-widened orifice, and the mix of fluids indeed lubricated his otherwise unlikely entry. With an audible sucking noise, he finally pushed past her external resistance. Hips reflexively bucking upward at the sudden release of pressure, she unwittingly drove him significantly deeper; an unconscious invitation that, in turn, encouraged him to enthusiastically impale her with his bizarrely asymmetrical phallus. She felt his bulbous glans stretching her innards like a clenched fist, while her outer lips narrowed to grip his disproportionally slender shaft. Her thighs pressed against his flanks, trying to prevent him from plunging even deeper...at least until she'd grown accustomed to his presence. But he permitted no delay, for he was already pumping her with short, quick strokes, boring through her sodden tunnel, compressing sensitive internal tissues even Brethil hadn't broadened in quite this fashion. She yelped at the strangeness, but invitingly folded her legs around his, gripping and releasing his hips. He reached beneath her to cup her flexing cheeks, then efficiently reversed their position, falling to his back and impatiently tugging her downward to fully envelop his manhood. Her guttural moans turned harsh, eyes rolling back into her head as she struggled against discomfort. Inevitably, arousal and instinct took over, and she experimented with her dominant position, varying her thrusts to change the depth and angle of penetration. One particularly ill-chosen shift popped him entirely free of her pussy, and the shock as his head squeezed and then snapped past her clitoris immediately sent her into a sharp, convulsive orgasm. Hastily gripping his messy cock, she slotted it back between her lips and teased her hard bud with his leaking glans, each successive abrasion sending her into paroxysms of delight. Several more times she did this before impaling her her overheated cunt, aggressively riding him all the way to a shared climax. His creamy thickness coated her inner walls.

Gingerly, she lifted herself from his liquid-streaked shaft as a mixture of fluids oozed from her sex and dripped onto his throbbing rod. Acknowledging the sudden hunger in her eyes, he gestured, urging her downward.

Bending to where they'd joined, she wantonly cleaned his, Brethil's, and her spendings from his cock, taking time to savor the deliciously complex stew. When there was no more to consume, he realigned her leaking hole with his shaft and encouraged her to tighten her vaginal muscles, sending fresh gouts of blended ejaculate running down his shaft. With a cry of delight she returned to her feast, enthusiastically slurping at his sex. Subsequent attempts produced ever-decreasing portions, but her eager lapping and sucking eventually sent Arlepheg careening over the edge again. He gripped her head like a drowning man as he squeezed another thick load onto her greedy tongue.

Malegil took her hand, leading her from the cot back to the table with an elegance that might have been gallant were they not in the midst of an orgy. Positioning her on her hands and knees, he stood behind her, teasing her ass with agile fingers. She reached between her legs, fitting his winding length against her sex and rubbing it through her slick labia, then bent her head to the table's surface, fingers widening her pussy to beg for his entry. With great patience he fed his cock into the welcoming maw of her cunt. Like Brethil, he eventually prodded against some sort of internal barrier, but unlike his fellow Ranger he could nudge against it without causing Éowyn more than brief discomfort. Similarly far from fully embedded, he nevertheless began stroking, his thrusts cat-like and lithe...hands roaming her writhing body, caressing her engorged nipples, nails scratching along her muscular back, but mostly gripping and re-gripping the exquisite rear end he couldn't resist. The inevitable probing of her nether channel was (to her surprise) long-delayed, but she moaned in ecstasy when he finally slipped a saliva-coated finger inside her ass. One became two as the pace of his thrusts increased. The barrier deep inside Éowyn's sex was now being regularly threatened, but the discomfort itself became a form of pleasure — certainly nothing compared to the pain she expected when it was Dûrthéod's turn — as was the thoroughness which which both her body and its limits were being explored and obliterated. Distracted by the fingers probing her rectum and the depredations they foretold, her release held off for a time as she pondered her future. I wonder if, given enough time and experience, my growing obsession might not come to challenge even his?

Anchoring his fingers in her ass, Malegil unleashed a long stream of his milky essence, and the soothing discharge eased her internal aches. When he yanked both fingers and phallus from her holes, the abruptness of the withdrawal triggered her long-delayed orgasm. She slumped, straining for breath, but Malegil quickly circled the table and lifted her chin, slipping his ejaculate-coated cock all the way into her ready mouth.

He'd just finished withdrawing his organ when Argonil replaced him, presenting his tumescence to her lips while Arabold confidently plunged his mighty rod deep inside her sex. The dual penetration set Éowyn afire. Here's the decadence I sought with the two young trainees...but then, I was the instigator, whereas now I'm nothing more than a vessel for their lust. She felt like a beast spit at both ends, Arabold's powerful thrusts plunging her mouth farther onto Argonil's enormous manhood, small climaxes raging through her body as she bounced from one cock to another. After a time they switched, Éowyn tasting her own free-flowing wetness as it slid across her tongue and passed into her throat while Argonil plowed her gaping cunt from behind. His sudden burst of thrusts grew frenzied, and then burning seed erupted in the depths of her channel. But he didn't slow his relentless pounding until long after his ejaculations stopped. Arabold replaced his brother, and after a few strokes added his own fiery sperm to her overflowing receptacle.

Someone — she neither knew nor cared who — grabbed her wrist and forced her hand between her legs, imprisoning it beneath her sex while a river of juices drained into her cupped palm. When the flow ebbed and the cream was brought to her lips, she consumed it as noisily as a predator might slake its thirst after feasting on a fresh kill. Sliding from the table, she fell to her knees and gathered them together in a circle, cleaning their shining poles with her tongue and reveling in her brazen sluttishness.

And that leaves only....

She looked around nervously. Where's Dûrthéod? That he apparently no longer occupied the tent troubled more than it comforted or confused, yet there was nowhere within to hide. Has he gone? But to where?

Arlepheg's hands wrapped around her body, fingers fluttering across her nipples while she sighed with delight. She closed her hands around his and leaned against his muscular thighs, closing her eyes and relaxing into an unexpected moment of peaceful rejuvenation.

Suddenly, she was beset on all sides by a flurry of sweat-slicked grappling. Struggling against her unexpected imprisonment, she futilely twisted within the many strong arms that entrapped her, not ceasing even as her wrists were tightly bound by a rough cloth to match the one that circled around her head and blinded her sight. Resistance quickly grew arbitrary, for she was vastly outnumbered and she knew it. Neither did she doubt what her binding presaged, for Dûrthéod's sinister promise still lingered.

Her arms were lifted above her head and secured by a rope to some unknown fixture high above her head. Swaying back and forth, bound and helpless, she took a deep breath, accepting the fate to which she'd willingly agreed, girding herself for the degradations to come.

A forest of hands groped her breasts, much fiercely than before; twisting and stretching her nipples beyond her resistance, fingertips digging into her soft flesh until she cried out in pain. Dûrthéod may be the author of this play, but he's far from the only actor. I wonder if any of them — even gentle Brethil — are sitting out this opportunity to molest me without consequence? A frenzied rain of sharp blows fell upon her taut ass, leaving her quivering from the sting and the humiliation, but even more from anxiety at what might be next. For if this is the prelude, surely much worse is to follow.

Someone gripped her chin and forced a tight knot of fingers through her lips, stifling her cry of surprise. Unshaven whiskers abraded her ear as a promise was delivered with an all too familiar growl.

"I'm going to punish you now."