The Bastard; Loyal to One Ch. 01

She knew where she was, and she knew that following that stream would lead her to the woods, which concealed their home base. But all that knowledge was of little help since there was no way of escape and with all her companions dead, no one would rescue her in time. Their next stop was in a village with a small garrison and a stone hold fast. Her thought were disturbed when another guard came up to her, carrying a cup of water.

"I suppose you're thirsty. Here, drink."

Klarissa took the cup and gulped the water down.

"Thank you," she said "I have to pee."

"What?"

"Could you please unbind me so I can pee?"

The man turned around and shouted at the group.

"Hey sarge, the bitch wants me to release her so she can take a leak!"

"Fuck off, you ain't gonna to that! If she wants to piss, she can do that here and with her hands bound," answered a big and bearded man.

The group erupted in laughter.

Klarissa clenched her jaws. She wasn't going to do that! She couldn't do that! It was not like it was her modesty she was concerned about; she had grown up among men and had practically lived in the woods for the last nine years, so there was little of that. However, she knew what danger there was in sitting there with her hands bounds and her pants down.

But with every minute that went by she became more willing to take that risk. What were her options? To soil herself? To live the last days of her life in pissed pants? To sit in court and walk up to the hangman stinking and covered in her own urine?

That was no way to go, not for a martyr as she had to become. And what was the worst thing they could do to her? It wasn't like she was a virgin. That she had given away a long time ago.

And so she came to her decision only a couple of minutes after her request was denied. She looked around and saw none of the men were watching her. The guards were playing dice or asleep, and the king's man was taking care of his horse.

Maybe she could perform her act without being noticed. With her bound hands, she opened up the leather straps that kept her pants up, pulled them down, squatted and let it flow. She sat with her back to the group. At first, it seemed the most reasonable thing to do but after a couple of seconds, she began to feel uneasy.

Unseen in the dense reeds was a eight person. He had arrived about an hour before and had gone into hiding as soon the horsemen came by the first time. At that same spot, he had been waiting when the party arrived. Six man, a prisoner and two horses. All of the men looked very tired and weary, and as soon as they had halted, they let themselves fall to the ground except for two of them, the fattest and the youngest.

They walked over to the horse the prisoner lay on. The fat one grabbed her ankles and pulled her to the ground. Draped over the saddle, he had only seen a pair of long and well-formed legs topped by what man of lower class would call a tight ass. With her laying on her back, he could see she had brown hair that reached to her shoulders. Her mud covered face was a little bit sharp but certainly pretty. The leather vest she wore fit tight around her narrow waist and rather smallish bosom. But the most stunning feature were her dark eyes staring fiercely and full of hatred up at the two men. The young man in the bushes also noticed that she wasn't afraid. What a pity it would be if they got to hang that.

He followed their conversation and when the men turned away he kept watching her. Then an older guard came to offer a cup of water. Probably has a daughter of the same age, the observers thought. The woman stated her request, but it was denied; apparently, there wasn't too much of a resemblance with his offspring. Carefully keeping an eye on her, he could see the inner monologue play out on her face, concerning the dilemma of whether to urinate or not. Even before she knew herself, he was sure she was going to do it. Calmly, he watched as she squatted down and displayed her well-shaped and beautiful naked bottom. He watched as the pee started splashing on the ground and when the first man noticed, he tensed up like a cat ready to jump, but he kept watching.

"Wow, look at that, she is pissing," one of the guards said behind her and Klarissa wasn't so sure about her decision anymore.

"Look at that tight ass," another voice spoke.

"It is really a shame they're going to hang that bitch."

Klarissa heard the men come closer. She was almost finished and started to pull up her pants.

"What are you doing, the show ain't over yet." And she got kicked over, her behind now prominently displayed to the laughing men.

"The whore likes it. Look, she's already wet!" one of them said.

"That's piss, stupid," his comrade said with scorn.

"Don't care. I would still like a piece of that. Can we, Sarge?`

"I don't know," was the answer. The silence that followed gave reason to hope.

"She's an outlaw and as long you leave her in one piece so we can bring her in front of the Earl, no one will care what you do to her." It was the king's man who had spoken and her heart sank to her stomach.

It was all they needed to hear and the hands came, grabbing and pinching her painfully; hands led by lust. At first, she was face down and the hands roamed over her back and bum, but soon that wasn't enough anymore. They turned her on her back and someone cut the straps that kept her vest, exposing her fleshy globes to the grabbing hands, mouths and tongues joined in biting and licking, nibbling on her nipples.

There was no more talking, only deep animalistic groans of lust. She didn't want to see it, she didn't want to feel it and she didn't want to hear it. But she only had power over one of this things. And so she laid there helpless with her eyes closed and endured.

Despite her revulsion and determination not to enjoy it, her body didn't obey her mind and when a finger went to her pussy, it slipped in with ease. She had to clench her jaws to suppress a moan. Soon the finger withdrew and was replaced by something bigger.

She gasped as the first penis began into pound in to her. Soon, it spilled its seeds and was replaced by another. Surrounded and touched by unseen hands, mouths and dicks, the woman couldn't contain her arousal. She started to moan and squirm. Her squirming body was held down by forceful hands and the moaning got muffled by a member pushed between her parted lips. In lust, she started sucking.

Her body started to burn all over, her back arched and she let out a loud scream as her pussy started to spasm. This caused another penis to erupt inside of her. Soon, the next orgasm started to build up, deep down in her pelvis.

There were two people who didn't participate in the sweating pile of human limbs. One of them saddled his horse as the other one hid in the reeds.The one in hiding collected his thoughts and feelings and let the nothingness wash over him. Calmly, he notched an arrow onto his bowstring, pulled it to his lips and kissed it goodbye. Then he picked up a second one.

Klarissa felt another fresh load being dropped in her womb and the man collapsed to her right side. Warm liquid spilled on her face and when it slipped into her mouth, it didn't taste salty but like iron. There was a bunch of screaming and shouting. She opened her eyes and saw the sergeant lying next to her, dead with arrow coming out of his eyeball. On her other side was another corpse.

The guard that had brought her the drink got his throat sliced open by a young man who was gone before he hit the ground. His killer moved gracefully to the next man. This was the fat one who had just pulled up his breeches. The sharp sword in the youth's right hand carved through the leather harness like butter. The fat one died with a surprised expression on his face as his gut poured out of the wound.

All of this happened in a matter of seconds. By the time Klarissa realized what was going on, the blond stepped calmly on to his last victim. The rat faced boy sat on his bare ass sniveling, his pants still around his ankles.

"Please, please have mercy," he cried.

With a face untouched by expression, the man raised his sword over his left shoulder, and with one diagonal swing, he cleaved in to the weeping boy's face. The gaping wound on the left of his visage diminished the earlier one to a mere scratch. He cleaned his blades on the dead boy's breeches then he turned and walked over to Klarissa. With a small knife, he cut the rope around her wrists. Then he picked her up like she weighed nothing and carried her into the creek. Tenderly, he cleaned her skin of the blood and semen. When she looked up in to his calm and warm eyes, she felt her hart flutter and she dropped her gaze quickly. He left her sitting in the creek and went to get her clothes. When he came back, she emerged from the water. They were almost of the same height but she was a tall woman. He gave her her pants and held out her vest. Once she was fully clothed, he broke the silence.

"We have to move fast now. One of them got away and they will be upon us soon."

Until that moment it had all been like a dream, but she realized she wasn't safe yet.

"Upstream," Klarissa said before darkness engulfed her once more.

"Wake up."

The horse she sat on snorted, and restlessly moved its feet. There was a broad chest she leaned back on and arms around her waist. Klarissa tried to remember why she was here, and who the chest and arm belonged to. Then the soft voice behind her sounded again.

"Wake up. We have to walk from here on. They are not far behind us."

With these last words, it all came back. She was still on the run and the voice that whispered into her ear must belong to the young man who rescued her. She opened her eyes to see they were on the edge of the forest.

"Ah, finally. You are awake."

Her back rest disappeared when the young man behind her dismounted. A loud splash was heard as his boots dropped into the river. He removed his bag from the saddle and swung it on his back. Klarissa was still seated high upon the horse.

"Hurry woman! We have to move fast," he said in an urgent tone.

At this she snapped out of it and dismounted as well. Once she had two feet on the ground, he smacked the horse's behind, and it ran off.

"Why did you do that? I thought we had to move fast," was the second thing Klarissa said to her rescuer.

"Hopefully it will lead our pursuers on a wrong track. Now, start running," the answer was. "I assume you know where to leave the creek?

"Yes, at a waterfall about half an hour from here."

Then the two started running.

They had been doing so for twenty minutes when it became clear that the freed horse had not deceived the men behind them. They heard a faint sound of hooves splashing in water.

"We are not going to make it," the young man said and grabbed her hand.

The left bank was much steeper and there was an overhanging rock. Her rescuer freed himself of his bag, crawled under the rock, and pulled her after him. There was nearly enough room for both them and the bag. He lay with his back in the water and pressed chest to chest, cheek to cheek with Klarissa who he had pulled on top of him. After a minute or two they heard the horsemen pass. The young man's slow and steady breathing was contrasted greatly with Klarissa's rapid chest movement. Klarissa started to crawl out of their hiding spot, but she got pulled back upon him.

"They'll come back," was all he said.

Ten minutes went by and then he was proven to be right.

"I could have sworn that had been a false trail!" an unseen horsemen said.

"We better not have lost them on account of your mistake, or the captain will be very pissed!" another one answered.

Then they passed.

"Can we go now?" Klarissa asked.

"No, there were four horses in that group."

"How do you know that?"

"Trust me," was all she got back.

Trusting him she did and she was better off by doing so, because after five minutes another group passed in silence.

"Was that the last group?"

"You are very impatient, woman. Are you not resting comfortably?"

Even if she couldn't see his face, the amusement in his voice and the movement of his cheek against hers betrayed it bore a grin.

The delay had cost them precious daylight hours. By the time they got out of the stream, it was already dark.

"We better find shelter for the night," the stranger said.

They made camp on a soft pad of moss under a great oak. With the departing of the sun, the temperature had fallen six degrees already and the youth was shivering in his soaked clothes.

"You have to get those wet garments off. I'll start a fire," Klarissa said.

"No, no fire. That is too dangerous," he answered. "That roll over there is my blanket, it has to be enough."

Without hesitation or asking her to look away he started to undress. First the leather strappings on his arms and then his vest, made from the same material, were removed. Out of each strapping he took a small knife, in his vest he apparently carried two more. Next he removed his boots, the right one containing a hand long knife. Then he took off his linen shirt, revealing his muscular torso. Not the bulky muscle of a smith, but rather the long and lean muscle of a hunter and dancer, or a swordfighter, she guessed. On his chest, crossing his light patch of hair, was a white scar. His belt came off next, and with it, his short sword and a dagger.

Klarissa was still wondering about the amount of weapons her rescuer carried, while he removed his trousers. All of her thoughts were lost. As he was spreading his clothes out to dry, she only could see his ripped back and well-formed buttocks. But then he turned around, and her gaze fell directly on his cock. There between a patch of dark hair it hang. It was a specimen of below average size; Klarissa felt slightly disappointed. For some reason, she had expected more.

"If you have had your fill, could you please give me the roll you are holding? As you can see, it is cold," he said with a smile.

Klarissa did something she hadn't done for years, she blushed.

"Oh yeah, of course," and she gave him what he had asked for. She couldn't even remember grabbing it.

Once on the ground and hidden under the cloak the man said, "I fear I have only one of these, but it is big enough. So I guess we could share it, if you do not mind."

"I don't mind," she answered and moved next to him on the ground.

"A big cloak indeed," she thought. It was big enough to cover them both and it was very thick. She wondered where he had obtained such a precious thing.

When her hand touched his skin, she was shocked over how cold he was.

"You're still freezing!"

"I will warm up," he answered.

"No, no. You'll catch a cold, we need to get you warmed up."

She got out of the blanket and started to undress.

"What are you doing?" he interrupted.

"As I said, you need to get warmed up. We will share my body heat."

In naked flesh, she crawled back into the blanket, and pressed herself firmly against his back. Her hardened nipples poked into him, and her left hand rested on his flat stomach, just above his stirring cock. Her warm breath breezed over his ear, she pulled him tighter. Her warm skin was in full contact with his and the contrast made it feel like she was burning. Slowly, her thumb started to make circles; caressing his abs. Her hand started to move lower and lower, until her little finger was on the edge of his bush.

"You know, I've not properly thanked you, yet," she whispered in a husky voice. Her hand moved further down and grabbed his hard shaft. A groan of what she guessed exclaimed approval escaped his throat. She started to move her hand up and down along his rod and thought, "I've misjudged. Maybe it was shy, but now his true size is shown."

Klarissa's head still rested on his shoulder, so he turned his head to place a tender kiss on her jaw. She moved in and their lips found each other. First light and hesitant but soon the passion swept in and their lips opened up. He rolled on his back and Klarissa draped herself over his left side, her hand still working his cock and their tongues swirling. Then she withdrew her mouth and he followed for a bit, reluctant to let her go. But when her lips started to kiss his jaw and moved to lick and nibble his left ear, he let himself fall back with a sigh.

Once she was satisfied with her attention given to his ear, she moved down to his neck, kissing first, but then she bit him slightly in the soft tissue above his collar bone. This action forced a yelp out of him, which was answered with a giggle. She kissed her way down to his tight nipple and swirled her tongue around it. She gave it a small kiss, and ventured further south. By now, she was kneeling over him and her hard tits brushed ever so slightly over his exposed head. Every time this happened, she felt him shudder beneath her.

Two hands cupped her face and pulled her up to meet the young man's lips. This passionate kiss could have lasted forever, had she not placed her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back. The cover was long gone. She looked down on his throbbing cock. She grabbed it with her right hand, and moved her lips down to it. Her tongue snuck out and she gave it small lick over his purple head. Pleased by his reaction, she opened her mouth and let his member disappear within.

The young man looked down to meet her brown eyes. She held his gaze while sucking on his cock. Her left hand fondled his sack and her right jerked the base of his shaft. While all this happened, her mouth still engulfed his cock, her tongue swirling around its head. The sound of slurping and moaning mingled with the sounds of the nocturnal forest. And the man knew he could not last very much longer.

With a hand in her hair, his hips started to thrust up. Klarissa met this with much fierce sucking and jerking. Then their gaze finally broke, as his body shuddered and his eyes fluttered up behind his eyelids. Her mouth was filled with his semen, and once she swallowed it, she sucked the rest out of him. His hand hooked under her chin and pulled her up once more. Now he gave her a light kiss. He could taste his sperm on her lips.

He broke the kiss with a smile and said, "I think I accept your gratitude."

Satisfied she had pleased him, she rested her head on his chest and started playing mindlessly with the hair that grew there.

"I think now is as good a time as any, to ask who you are, my brave stranger," she stated.

"Yes, as good as any," he answered. "My name is Marvin. I used to be a sword for hire, but was on my way to swear myself to some lord."

"And so tell me Marvin, do you make a habit of rescuing helpless woman from the hands of evil men?"

This question was answered with a chuckle.

"I very much doubt that you are helpless, Klarissa," he answered. "Yes, I know who you are. Your likeness is spread all over the fiefdom of Bramen. Together with the one of your husband."

"So you knew who I am. Why rescue me?"

"As I said, I used to be a mercenary, just like my father. My mother was a whore. She raised me until I was ten, then my father came to pick me up. That was about eight winters ago. I traveled with his party, first cooking and taking care of the general stuff. Later, at an age of thirteen, I started to go to battle with them. That was until last fall when my father died. He was struck down by a crossbow in his throat, leaving me with nothing but his boots, sword and shield. That was the time I decided I wanted to leave my son with a greater heritage than that. So I sold the shield and ventured south east to this great kingdom, with its king and lords, that it had heard so much about."

He felt Klarissa shiver against him, so he covered them with the blanked. Then 'Marvin' resumed his story.