One Night in Gormaz

Gascon's plunging shaft glistened under a coat of Taresa's blood and nectar, and their bodies slapped together in an accelerating rhythm. His cock burned with excitement from its sensitive head all the way to his balls, and he needed Taresa to quench the fire.

Taresa's eyes were closed, her mouth was open, and she rocked under him. The garbled sounds she made only urged him on. She clutched at Gascon's broad shoulders, and he threw his head back to groan at the dark ceiling. He stopped with his shaft deep between the nun's spread thighs, and his hot cream gushed.

Gascon slammed himself into Taresa, snorting and bellowing like a beast, until he finally collapsed and rolled away from her. He spread his arms and legs to cool himself, and he stared up at the shadows cast by flickering torch light. His orgasm had passed, but he wasn't satisfied, and he wasn't empty. He closed his eyes, and his lips began to move.

Taresa leaned close to hear what Gascon said. "'Nam, et si ambulavero in medio umbrae mortis, non timebo mala quoniam tu mecum es.'" she said, "He recites the 22nd Psalm."

"Perhaps this time his shepherd has lead him astray," Falcona said, and Gascon's eyes flew open. He looked from face to face among the people who stood over him, and his search stopped on Sister Madalena.

Gascon fought a battle with his own desires, and he lost. His hands trembled as he climbed to his knees and crawled to the nun. She would have stepped back, but Gascon grasped her ankle with one hand and wrapped his arm around her leg. He shoved his head under her tunic and used his grip to pull himself up.

Madalena caught her breath and stepped her legs apart. She put both hands on Gascon's head when he shoved his face between her legs, but not to push him away. She looked at Falcona and said, "He starves," then gasped in surprise as Gascon laid her down on the floor.

Gascon pushed Madalena's tunic up and her knees apart, and his nostrils flared with excitement. He parted the nun's red curls, opened her pussy, and found her hymen. One thick finger made her blood seep onto his hand, and a second finger tore her.

Madalena squealed at the sharp pain, but Gascon left her no time to regain her composure before he pushed his cock into her. His shaft was already slippery from Taresa; Madalena had been wet with anticipation before, and now she was wet and bloody. Gascon's thick cock slipped into the nun's tightly-stretched pussy and filled her in a single deep thrust.

Falcona gave them room and watched them writhe in front of her. She snapped her fingers to get the attention of a distracted steward. "Bring me Iago," she said. "I will need him here."

Gascon cradled the back of Madalena's neck in one hand and stifled her cries with the other. His weight pinned her to the floor and his thrusts forced her thighs apart. He tried to douse the desire that burned in his soul, but Madalena's cunt only fed the flames. He pounded the nun's butt against the floor, and in her excitement Madalena answered by clawing at the sweat-slicked skin on Gascon's arms and his back 'till he bled.

Falcona motioned to Sister Taresa, and laid her cloak on the table. She unhooked the brooch that closed her red tunic, and Taresa reached under it to untie the under-tunic. The little nun lifted Falcona's clothes over her head, and the witch stood naked in the yellow light. In that moment before she wrapped herself in the red cloak again, Falcona's body showed sleek and firm; her breasts were perfect teardrops, and her erect nipples betrayed her anticipation.

Madalena bit Gascon's hand that covered her mouth. He bellowed at the pain, she turned her head away, and the cooks and stewards stepped closer as if to better hear her cries.

The pain was meaningless; Gascon was too aroused to know anything but his raging need. He stopped for a moment with his shaft buried deep inside Madalena, his body tightened, and he groaned through clenched teeth. Even in the deep shadows, Falcona could see Gascon's balls clench and his cock pulse while his essence filled the nun.

Gascon grew still on top of Madalena and fell silent but for his gasps as he tried to catch his breath. When he opened his eyes again, he looked over his shoulder at the Red Witch standing with her cloak open and her feet stepped apart. He tried to scramble away, but slipped on a greasy plank wet with sweat and blood, nectar and semen, and he backed up against the unyielding legs of the cooks and stewards who watched.

Gascon's expression was wide-eyed, but he licked his lips as his eyes traveled from the curling wisps of Falcona's delta up to her soft breasts and the thick braid of blond hair that fell over her shoulder.

"Come to me, Perés y Hernandez" Falcona said, and she crooked her finger at Gascon. Fear made him hesitate, but his need couldn't be denied. He clambered to his feet and lurched forward with his bloody cock straining for Falcona.

Falcona wrapped one hand around Gascon's shaft and turned his back against the table. She stepped close and watched the fear on his face. His fingers twitched from the need to touch her breasts, but everything he wanted to do to Falcona terrified him.

Gascon's lips moved almost silently, and Falcona leaned closer to hear him mutter, "Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae."

Falcona laughed, and pulled Gascon's mouth to hers. She stifled his Ave Maria with her lips over his and her tongue in his mouth, and she pushed him back to break the kiss.

"You should be begging for my prayers, instead of the virgin's," she said. "You are going to die, you know, unless you have sex soon." Falcona traced her fingers over the bulging muscles in Gascon's chest. "You can feel it in your heart, can't you?" she asked.

Gascon nodded his answer. He was in pain.

"Your heart will burst," Falcona said. "I can save you, or I can watch you die." She gestured to push Gascon back, and he collapsed onto the table under the strength of her magic.

The witch savored Gascon's helpless panic before she let him go. She pushed his legs apart, climbed over him, and whispered close by his ear. "If you tell me the truth, I'll give you the relief you need. If you tell me lies, then I'll see you off to hell."

The nuns, the cooks, and the stewards gathered close around the table. When Iago got there, he had to push his way through them to reach Falcona. He watched without saying a word while the witch straddled Gascon's hips and lifted his hands to her breasts.

"Who paid you to come to Gormaz?" Falcona asked. "Who do you serve?"

Gascon groaned without answering. The witch ground herself along the length of his cock, and leaned into his hands. His heart pounded in his chest, and he chose the relief Falcona promised. "Almanzor," he said. "We work for Almanzor."

Falcona sneered at Gascon. "Traitors to your Christian brothers then," she said. "I hope the Moor paid you well." She glanced at Iago, and back to Gascon. "What were you supposed to do for him?" she asked. "Why are you here?"

Gascon writhed in pain. "Give me peace," he begged, but Falcona didn't flinch. He drew his breath and said, "His horsemen will be here before dawn. We were to kill your guards and open the gate."

Falcona drew back and watched Gascon's strained expression. "Your satisfaction, and mine, are almost complete," she said. "How were the Moors to know when your job was done?"

"We were to light a torch on the parapet above the gate," Gascon said.

That was what Falcona wanted. She rose on her knees and lifted Gascon's cock between her legs. He arched his back and groaned as she settled on him with his cock inside her.

Gascon's penetration sent a wave a pain through Falcona as her cunt stretched around his thick cock, and then a wave of pleasure as he filled her. She smiled at Gascon through half-closed eyes and rocked slowly on his body. The witch leaned to his ear and said, "My spell torments you now, but it will end when you satisfy me."

Falcona sat back with Gascon's cock deep inside her. She let her cloak slip down her arms and watched his reactions while she undulated naked over him. He squeezed her tits, then stroked his hands down her sides. His impulse was to push her hips down hard so his shaft penetrated further, but she pushed his hands away and continued to rock.

Sister Madalena touched Falcona's arm Taresa did the same. The cooks and the stewards watched with fixed stares, and they too reached to touch Falcona.

Iago slapped a steward's hand away, and Falcona smiled, with her eyes mostly shut. "They worship me," she said. "Let them be."

Falcona's bare skin glowed golden in the firelight and the ring of people around her reached to touch her. They caressed her arms and her shoulders; they touched her breasts and her back, her belly and her buttocks. They worshiped the Red Witch while she rose and fell on Gascon's cock, and all the time they sung quiet chants of the witch's power and beauty.

Her juice coated Gascon's shaft and trickled around his balls. Her pace accelerated, his eyes rolled back, and his nostrils flared. Gascon's cock seemed to stretch and grow even more inside Falcona and the sensation fed his excitement. He bucked under her, pushed up into her, and spasms wracked his body.

Gascon caught his breath for only a moment when his climax passed, and Falcona felt him trickling down her thigh. The sensation made her smile, but it didn't make her stop.

The touch of the cooks and stewards and their murmured invocations urged Falcona on, and she returned to her sensual undulation. She started slowly and rebuilt Gascon's excitement. She kept herself on the verge of her own orgasm while Gascon bucked and writhed between her legs. He squeezed Falcona's breasts and his glistening shaft plunged deep.

Gascon rewarded the witch when his breath rasped in his lungs, and his muscles tightened. He pushed himself up under Falcona; he did it again, then again and each time he pumped his hot essence into her. He groaned as his body relaxed, and those who stood to touch and watch sighed their relief.

Falcona sat back while Gascon's cum trickled around his cock and down her thigh, and she decided his fate. It wasn't until then that Falcona released him. She held his hands to support herself and let her excitement grow. Her climax built from her center as she rose and fell on Gascon's shaft and ground against his body until the spasms finally overcame them both.

Gascon bellowed at the ceiling when Falcona's cunt tightened around his shaft. His cream flooded her again, and her orgasm rushed through her body in waves. She gasped at the ceiling as they passed, and then collapsed on Gascon's heaving chest.

The cooks and stewards faded back into the shadows, and Gascon touched Falcona's hair and stroked her shoulders. His flaccid cock slipped out of her, and he fell into deep sleep.

Falcona climbed down from the table with Gascon dripping from between her legs and pulled her cloak around her. She found Iago whispering with a guard and motioned for him to come close. "You heard Perés y Hernandez," she said. "Garrote him. Kill all of them. I want their heads on stakes over the gate by dawn."

Iago was a man of few words, and Falcona didn't expect conversation, but he stopped her and said, "The signal towers down-river are lit. The Moors are traveling by the full moon."

"Set a good trap for them," Falcona said, and Iago understood.

Sister Taresa gathered the witch's clothes and stood waiting beside Sister Madalena. Falcona was talking to both of them when she said, "We may need your prayers by morning."

Madalena curtsied to the witch and said, "Señora, I fear the Lord won't hear our prayers as we are."

"Clean yourselves and come to my chamber when you're ready," Falcona said. "I'll make you whole again."

Falcona was alone when she climbed the stairs to her chambers. She slipped the alabaster vial from her cloak, touched the chest at the foot of her bed to unlock it, and traded the vial for a small box. When the trade was done, she left the box beside her bed and stepped to the arrow slit that faced west over the walled courtyard and down the river.

The moonlit valley spread out far below her, and fires burned on hilltop signal towers. A new fire—closer than the others—lit as she watched. Almanzor's horsemen were moving quickly.

Sister Madalena paused at the top of the steep stairs and asked, "Señora?" She stepped up into the room without waiting for an answer. Madalena carried a pitcher of warm water and Taresa followed with Falcona's clothes over one arm and a lamp in her hand.

Madalena filled a wash basin and knelt in front of Falcona with a moist cloth while Taresa spread the clothes on her bed. The witch stepped her feet apart to let the nun wash Gascon off her thighs and from the curling hair between her legs.

"We won't get much rest tonight," Falcona said and Madalena nodded her reply. "When we're done, I want you and Brother Esteban to move the villagers and their animals to shelter against the south wall. Keep them out of the open and out of the way."

The nuns answered in unison, "Si, Señora."

Falcona opened the box she'd left by the bed and held it up so Taresa could inhale the scent from the salve inside. They were all familiar with what would happen next. No matter how much Taresa or Madalena enjoyed sex, the act was never over until Falcona's touch and her magic completed it.

She coated her finger tips with the salve and pushed the little nun back against the tapestry that draped the stone wall. The witch held Taresa by her long braid and bent her head back. "Did you enjoy Perés y Hernandez?" Falcona asked. "The man may have been weak, but his flesh was strong."

Taresa looked up into Falcona's face and answered, "Si, Señora. He was forceful, and even the pain thrilled me."

Falcona smiled at Taresa's response, slipped her fingers under the hem of her tunic and watched the nun's eyes drift shut. She spread the salve over the deep creases between her legs then pushed one finger, and then two fingers through her torn hymen. Taresa winced in pain, and then smiled in relief.

Taresa's breath came fast and shallow, and her weight sagged into the witch's arms. Falcona held her up with her hands at the back of her head and between her thighs. She soothed Taresa and chanted quietly into her ear. The nun's mouth gaped open and the sounds she made became garbled noise.

Taresa trembled. She clutched at the witch's arms and her fingers knotted with excitement. Her breath stopped, she contracted around Falcona's fingers, and her orgasm gripped her body. Taresa screamed at the high ceiling when her climax passed, and only then did Falcona let her relax back against the wall.

The witch moved slowly and carefully. She slipped her fingers out of Taresa, and as Falcona withdrew, she left Taresa's hymen whole again.

Taresa slumped against the wall and muttered prayers while Falcona dipped her fingertips into the salve and turned to Madalena, who stood watching.

Falcona stepped close to Madalena, and even by the flickering light from the oil lamp she could see the effect from Madalena's anticipation. Her nipples thrust out under layers of coarse cloth. She cupped the nun's breast in one hand and said, "It's a pity that Perés y Hernandez was in such a hurry. He seemed fond of you, and there is so much more than your cunt that a man could enjoy."

Madalena let out a gasp when the witch turned her and bent her to her knees over the bed. Falcona gripped Madalena's red braid in one hand and turned her head. She watched the excitement written on Madalena's face while her fingers found their way up her thighs. She was already wet when Falcona started to explore her; her bud was firm, and her soft folds were slippery.

Falcona thrust her thumb into Madalena, and the sharp pain made the nun catch her breath. The witch pushed Madalena's thighs apart, swirled her fingers over her trigger, and chanted her incantation into the nun's ear. Falcona kissed Madalena's cheek and the sensitive spot below her ear, and she gave Madalena the sensual thrill of her touch and her magic.

Madalena's hands closed on the red tunic that Taresa laid on the bed, and she twisted the cloth with uncontrolled excitement. She picked her head up, clenched her teeth, and bucked in the witch's grip. Her body tightened when she came, and she wailed at the wall as it passed.

The nun's body relaxed in Falcona's grasp, and the witch pulled carefully away to leave Sister Madalena whole.

Falcona sniffed Madalena's scent on her hand then used the basin to wash. The nuns stood waiting for her when she finished. "See to the villagers" Falcona said, "and pray for them all." She closed the box of salve and stored it away again. When she looked up, the nuns were gone, and she was alone with her thoughts.

Mirrors were easily fooled, but water was always true. Falcona stood over her reflection in the wash basin and picked up the oil lamp to light her face. The woman who looked back from the water's still surface was not the beautiful Red Witch. She was a weary crone.

Falcona dropped into a chair to wait for dawn. She could step from behind her facade at times like this. It was easy for her to see the Red Witch as someone else—an old friend, a confidant.

"Were you still a child?" the Red Witch asked.

"I was," Falcona replied, "but they'd have burned me or drowned me for what I could do. My power was a gift from God, but they didn't understand, so I ran into the forest where the old witches brewed their spells. I learned their ways and the ancient language.

"And that's where I was born," the Red Witch said.

"Not there." the Falcona said. "You were born later, when I aged, and you stayed young and beautiful."

The candle lights flickered in the night's breeze while Falcona paused. "I loved him, you know."

"The Count, you mean? Why do you change subjects?"

"I'm not changing subjects. I enchanted a man I otherwise could not have won, and I fell in love with him. You never aged because I wanted to always be exciting for him. After he was gone, it was because I wanted the influence you gave me."

"I am but your servant, Señora," the Red Witch said, and she laughed. They fell quiet, and an owl hooted from the wall outside the keep. Falcona pulled her cloak close, and the witch asked, "You could not save him?"

"I was too late." Falcona answered. "My power and my spells weren't enough." She waved at the stone walls of the great keep. "But he's not gone. I still feel him here. His soul is in the stone he won. It's in the people who live here."

"You will lose it all someday," the Red Witch said. It was a repeated reminder. "Someone in your trusted circle—maybe it will be Iago, maybe Brother Esteban, or even the nuns—will betray you, and it will all be over."

Falcona said nothing at first, and then she spoke with a sigh. "It won't be Esteban. As much as he hates me, he knows we're married by a common purpose. You're right, though. Someday I'll lose, but until then I still have battles to fight."

It wasn't until the first cock crowed that Falcona startled awake and realized she'd dozed off. The sky outside her window was starting to gray, and the setting moon cast long, dim shadows. She hurried to dress. When she stepped from the keep she was once again the Red Witch, and her tunic and cape flowed around her.

Squires carrying swords, axes, and shields from the armory paused in their errands and knelt until Falcona dismissed them. She walked alone toward the castle gate, but slowed when Brother Esteban turned away from the pregnant woman he prayed over. He struggled to catch Falcona, so she stopped to see what the lame old man needed.