tagSci-Fi & FantasyBetween the Battles

Between the Battles


Ethedra sank down onto the now empty sarcophagus. This is what I get for coming out with only a mercenary. She could feel her armor was half ripped off, and yet still could hear the weird howls off in the distance of the demons and their masters.

"Lady, have you healed?" Markullah asked. He was little better. His chain armor was ripped in a dozen spots. She'd been hiding behind him, freezing monsters with her ice spells.

"Yes, I'm just catching my breath." He was close behind her. She looked up. Oh, goddess, why did I hire such a good looking son of a bitch? He was tall and wide and dark haired like all the desert tribesman. His face was tanned and scarred from his battles. His hand on her shoulder was warm and hard. Wait. She looked at the shoulder. His un-gauntleted hand was resting on her skin.

"Good." He leaned closer. She could feel his breath on her cheek.

"This is a bad place for flirting, Markullah." She said. Oh no, you ignored me in town, you son of a bitch. Three staircases down a tomb is no place to be trying this!

"I'm not flirting." He unbuckled her shoulder armor and eased it down over her shoulders to her waist. He lightly brushed his hands over her breasts. She could feel his heat through her tunic.

Ethedra gasped. His hands were undoing her arming belt as well. "We could go back…"

"No." He'd never defied her before. "I just killed twenty demons for you. You will be mine, if only once."

She knew she could kill him. But then the mercenary captain would never let her hire another man. "The demons are just on the other side of those doors!"

"Yes." He growled. Her armor fell to the floor of the tomb. "Oh, you gorgeous witch." His hands pulled up her arming tunic and tossed it aside too. "You haven't burned me yet."

Ethedra shivered at his hands on her breasts. "N-no."

He laughed. Turned her to face him and kissed her hard. One hand went boldly between her legs. "I see." His hand was wet with her own juices, rubbed hard on her pleasure flesh. The other held her against him for a kiss. She let him push his tongue into her mouth, tangling with hers, tasting a little blood, leftover rage from the battle.

Oh this is stupid. She bucked against his hand. But right now I don't care if Baal comes through that door, I want to feel him!

He rubbed her hard, until she was gasping and moaning in a low voice. His dark eyes burned into her in the witch light. "Witches love a good spear man."

"But are you?" she let him lay her back on the cold stone.

He unfastened his own belt and his manhood sprang erect. "Find out!" He pulled her hips to the edge of the sarcophagus lid. "You're tiny. I don't want to squash you." He spread her legs wide. Teased her with it.

"Now, damn it!"

"As you order." He pushed hard into her.

He's bigger than my temple lovers. She shut her eyes for a moment, pain mixing with the pleasure.

"You're no priestess." He pounded into her hard, as if he was hurrying. "No virgin."

"No witch is a virgin." She gasped. Her back was grinding against the cold rough stone. His flesh was hot, sweaty and smeared here and there with blood. She knew she wasn't any cleaner. She tried to wrap her legs around him. He grabbed them and forced them over his shoulders. Ethedra shuddered and moaned her pleasure. The pain had faded away, or mixed into the pleasure thoroughly.

He pulled out of her. "Say you serve me."

"No!" she gasped. "I do not!"

"Say it!" he teased her with his manhood around the edges of her sensitive flesh. Torture would have been easier to bear. "Once in my life, I will rule."

The echoes of pleasure were maddening. "Oh goddess! I serve you!"

He plunged into her with a shout. Lost himself in a few more hard thrusts. She shuddered with him, screaming her own pleasure.

"Now, you serve me." He straightened up.

"Very cute. I don't think so." She lowered her legs.

"By your blood, word and pleasure, you are mine." He said softly. His eyes glowed with power for a moment.

Ethedra gasped in horror. "So you work for Baal?"

"Don't blaspheme. I merely want you for myself. To serve my pleasure when I want it. Hunt the demons all you want, lady. I will follow loyally."

Things seemed normal when they went back to town. One of the barbarian men followed her back to her inn. "May I share your fire?" he asked.

She shivered, looking at him. He was even bigger than Markullah.

Markullah appeared as if summoned. "The lady has company."

The barbarian man nodded. "May I watch at the fire?"

Markullah looked a little off balance. "What?"

"We have few women. We have to share."

"Yes. Perhaps there will be fire to spare." Markullah watched her looking up at the barbarian.

Ethedra was frozen. Both of them?

Markullah picked her up. "Let us find our room." She couldn't resist.

His name was Arnor. He watched eagerly as Markullah stripped her. Ethedra wanted to fight back, but her fingers only played on his shoulders as he ripped her armor off.

"Do barbarians fuck men?" Markullah asked.

"Sometimes." Arnor wasn't angry. "Do you want me?"

"Let's see." Markullah looked him over.

Arnor stripped his furry kilt. He was big, and erect.

Markullah breathed hard. He looked back at Ethedra. "Take her over the edge of the bed.

Arnor grabbed her. Kissed her hard and put a huge hand over her pleasure flesh.

Why am I wet? This is rape! She moaned into his mouth, writhing at the big fingers. He thrust a finger into her, then two. Pushed it in and out like his manhood. She writhed against him, moaning her pleasure wordlessly.

He kissed her breasts then, lifting her up. She felt his manhood violate her. It was huge. She thrashed at the brutal invasion of her flesh. He pressed into her. "Oh gods, you're tight, witch!" his voice shook.

Ethedra screamed. It hurt but he was moving so slow that it felt good too. She found herself pushing down, trying to take him in. She looked up to see Markullah behind him. He was clasping Arnor's shoulders, and she realized he was beginning to push between the barbarian's buttocks.

Arnor buried himself in her. Stopped and threw his head back. "Ahhh. Hurt me with that, spear man!"

"Oh, I will." Markullah thrust brutally hard. Ethedra felt it. She screamed too. Arnor thrust into her again. The brutal force was doubled as Markullah continued to bury himself in Arnor. She lost control and began to shriek from the pleasure and pain of the flesh in her flesh.

Arnor spasmed into her as Markullah did. He held himself up over her body. He was breathing hard. Markullah moved and Arnor rolled onto his side on the bed.

Markullah still stood. He looked down at them. Ethedra thought he looked pleased. "I could get used to barbarian flesh."

"I prefer women." Arnor said mildly. "I'll pleasure myself in you if you want it."

Ethedra hoped so. That would hurt.

"Someday." Markullah admired his length. "Hold her against your body. I want her now." He was erect already. Ethedra wondered if that was a side effect of his healing powers.

"Already?" Arnor pulled her up onto his chest so her back was against his belly.

"We learn some wizardry out here." Markullah drew her legs apart. Ethedra didn't even want to resist now. Arnor felt good against her. Markullah stretched them even more widely apart. "Hold her legs."

Arnor obligingly grabbed her legs at the knees. Ethedra fought his grip, but it was useless.

Markullah smiled down at her. Triumphantly holding a sorceress hostage to his lust. His manhood was huge again. He began to rub it on her. It felt good, against the cum and juices still oozing from her body. She forgot to struggle, writhing against Arnor's hard muscles. Spasms shot through her legs as he rubbed, tormenting her with light touches on her pleasure flesh.

"Fuck me!" she gasped.

"I knew you would beg." Markullah grasped her waist and thrust into her body. She screamed at the sensations, the hot violation of her flesh. She couldn't move her legs, but her hips could swing. They moved against Markullah, striving to drive his manhood even deeper. Fiery red pleasure burned along her body, radiating outward from her cunt.

"This is better than watching." Arnor's manhood had grown. He rubbed it between her buttocks. She clenched herself around it. He shouted out loud and rubbed himself against her.

Markullah regained her attention, biting and suckling her breasts. He was moaning softly in time to his thrusts.

Ethedra felt the culmination of her pleasure long before Markullah stopped. She lost track of who owned what flesh as she screamed and thrashed under him.

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