In the Heat of the Knight

The sweat on Sir Henry's brow beads as he ascends the stairs. Below, in the corridor to the East, lay the body of the massive, emerald dragon. The fight had been as long and dangerous as the journey.... But the prize at the top of the tower was worth the risk. Henry slowly continues to walk higher and his heart begins to pound.

Ever since he was a young boy in his English village he had heard the tale. A scaled dragon, a monstrous beast, had laid claim to the little kingdom to the West, beyond the mountains. The dragon had killed all but the small princess, whom he kept, locked away in a tower. For years the girl stayed trapped and the tales spread throughout the land. Many had attempted rescue before, but those who didn't die of thirst or starvation often lost their lives on the treacherous mountains. Those who managed to make it to the castle were no match for the dragon. Sir Henry has seen their remains as he entered the castle...

Henry knew it was he, and he alone, who was destined to free Princess Anne and claim her for his own. He survived. He had succeeded where so many before had failed. He had even beaten the beast, using his quick wit, dashing speed, and deadly sword. He reaches the door. He is so nervous... He was able to conquer a dragon but a young girl makes his heart pound... and he has never even seen her. He opens the door, ever so slightly, ever so quietly... He peers in and his breath catches in his throat. There, sitting by the window, is the princess. Her big blue eyes shine as she stares out at the day, unaware the knight is even there. Her flowing blonde hair catches the sunlight and looks like spun gold. Her tight pink bodice shows the curve and cleavage of her ample bosom and her long skirt catches at the waste, showing a feminine form. Henry runs a hand through his own moppy brown hair and his eyes sharpen.

His armor makes just the slightest noise as it scratches against the door. The princess jumps up and gasps, clutching her hand to her heart. She stares wide eyed at the man before her. He has the clearest eyes that seem to look through her. His sharp cheek bones accentuate his lovely face as his hair, tangled with sweat, falls around his face. She has not seen a man in years, and has never seen a man so beautiful. All at once she is excited and afraid, unsure of whether this means she is free, or in for a worse fate. He is first to speak...

"Princess Anne?"

"Y..Yes" Her voice, soft and high, captivates him. He wants her to speak again.

"I am Sir Henry, a knight from a far off village. I have slain the dragon and come to rescue you."

Anne just stares, unable to believe her captivity is finally at an end, and all thanks to the charming creature before her. But all too soon she remembers her manners and her place.

"Thank you, good knight. I can not repay you enough for your kindness."

Henry could think of a few things she could do... He did not want to rescue her. He wanted to claim her. He wanted to shed the tight cloth encasing her high breasts and milky pale skin. He wanted to scoop her in his arms and not let go until she was panting and spent beneath him. All of a sudden the armor beneath his waste felt too tight as the blood surged to his much neglected organ. It had been weeks since he had been home, been able to bed a milkmaid or visit the brothel. And this girl would be a virgin! He wanted to be the first to stab into her soft, moist flesh...

"Shall we go, then, Knight? Am I to go to your home or are you here to help me reestablish my kingdom?" Anne speaks again, her melodic voice awakening the knight from his lustful visions.

"Princess, I do not know if you are aware of all that has happened. Your kingdom has gone to waste, your family and subjects all long dead. You no longer have a kingdom. You no longer have a title. You are just a girl now, trapped in a pretty castle in a pretty dress. I have permission to claim this land and the wealth of treasures inside your castle for my King. As for you, I have permission to claim you for myself." He takes a step forward.

Anne's head spins. All she had was lost. For many years she knew she may never be freed, but she held out hope. And she held out the dream of being a princess of her father's kingdom once more. Now she was a common girl at the mercy of a beautiful but lustful knight. He keeps getting closer. Anne, full of woe and emotion, begins to collapse down to the floor. In a swift motion, showing the speed earned through years of training, Sir Henry catches the girl before she hits the floor. He straightens her up but does not let go. Her body is so warm against him. Her hair smells of plumeria. Her little form rests against him. She barely reaches his chin. Her milky skin feels so soft against his own rough hands.

She looks up at him, shaking, and his breath catches in his throat as her blue eyes peer up at him. Her sweet, pink, full lips begin to tremble and pull into a pout. Her golden brows furrow and her bosom heaves with each scared breath. He can barely resist throwing her against the wall and having his way with her. Instead he leans down and whispers in her ear.

"Sweet little princess, you should not be afraid. I will be gentle with you. And I will make you happy. I am not so bad. Do as I say and I will give you everything. We will have a good life, my darling, far away from here. You will please me and I will reward you. Being the wife of a powerful knight is just as good as being a spoiled little princess."

His breath tickles her ear and sends a shiver to her loins. His cold armor feels good against her hot skin. Henry sits Anne down on the bed with just a little force. He brushes her hair back away from her face. He takes her hand slowly to his mouth and relishes in the feel of her skin against his face. He places a lingering kiss on her wrist, and Anne's cheeks blush and she looks down quickly. Henry lifts her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"So modest, so innocent..." He chuckles and then leans forward. She tries to pull back but he still has her chin in his big hand. Henry softly lays his lips against hers. Anne feels her first kiss. Her own soft, moist lips being claimed by his. The kiss deepens as Anne gasps into Henry's mouth. Henry, an experienced kisser, smiles to himself as his tongue darts into the girl's mouth. Their rhythm moves from sweet and soft to frantic. Henry kissing with the passion and desire of a man with deep wants and a hard organ; Anne kissing with the desperation of a girl new to the heat, wetness and need forming in her sex. The knight, excited by the princess's response, drawls back with a deep sigh.

"So innocent but so willing to learn..." Henry observes.

Anne blushes again but does not look down, having remembered his hand under her chin earlier.

"Good girl" He rewards her with a kiss to the nape of her pale neck, a kiss he knows is making her ache with desire. He then brushes a finger down her neck, feeling her swallow. He runs a hand through her soft hair. He can not stop touching this enchanting female before him, knowing she is his to explore, to take, to ravage if he so wishes. In an instant he rises to his full height and drawls his sword. Fearing she has displeased him, Anne cries out and cowers at the foot of the bed. The sword swishes through the air, coming in contact with the tough fabric of her bodice. The cold blade slips between her breasts but leaves nothing so much as a scratch as it expertly cuts through the dress. Anne shrieks and stands, trying to turn away, but the blade has done its work. As she stands, the dress falls to the floor, split in half.

Henry's eyes drink Anne's body in as though she is water in a hot desert. Her high, full breasts sway as she takes deep, ragged breaths. Her pink nipples, so pale, the lightest of pinks, shiver and harden. Her flat stomach gives way to the pink sex Sir Henry is so eager to thrust his manhood into. The flare of her hips seems to be calling his name. Anne, blush crossing her cheeks and chest, attempts to hide her sex and breasts with her hands. She is able to cover the little pink below her stomach, but her breasts are too ample to cover with an arm and a hand. Henry walks over and forces Anne to lower her arms.

"I'll have none of that, Princess." He swats at that full bottom of hers, not too hard, but hard enough to make her question ever trying to hide herself from him again. "This body is mine and I will see it as I wish to." He continues to rest his hands on her backside, enjoying the warmth of her stinging flesh. His eyes alight with the prospect of having her splayed over his lap. He sits back on the bed, still fully armored, and brings his naked darling to the bed. She flushes with embarrassment and blinks back tears of shame mixed with utter desire. He pinches at her nipples, relishing in the feel of the hardened knobs, enjoying the sight of her jumping at his touch and the slight pain. Henry then lays the princess over his lap. She shivers as his cold armor covers the front of her body. The knight caresses the sensitive skin of her bottom with his open palm.

"I need to train you, my dear. I think a little pain will soften you. You are a spoiled princess and I need to make you bend to my will. You may even enjoy this..."

And with that, Sir Henry lays the first of several hard slaps on her backside. The princess wails in protest. Henry covers her mouth with his other hand, allowing her to cry freely. He then sends a fresh volley of hard smacks to her stinging flesh. She kicks and flails but he continues. She rubs her aching sex against his cold, steel clad knee. The pleasure mixes with the pain. Finally, after what seems like hours to the exhausted girl, he stops. Her bottom feels large and hot to her. He rests his hand against it, feeling the warmth. His hand slowly inches around, until he parts her thighs with a little gasp of protest from the princess. He slides a finger directly into her and begins to stroke.

"So wet... You did enjoy that, didn't you, my darling?"

Anne just moans in response. She rubs herself against his knee, bucking her sore bottom, as Henry continues stroking a finger inside her. The girl begins to feel lightheaded, and as though she is on the brink of something wonderful. Her cheeks become redder and her breath catches in her throat. Just as her swollen clitoris is about to burst, Sir Henry withdrawals his finger and pushes her off of his knee. Anne cries out in frustration, and now must suffer the burning ache between her thighs. Her savior then stands and orders her to do the same. She stands at the foot of the bed, looking down, but not covering herself. Henry nods in approval, pleased that she has already become more obedient.

He slowly walks to her and rests his hands on her breasts. He feels the fullness, the weight of them. He rolls the left in his hands, and then the right. He gives each a soft smack, watching them sway with enjoyment. He bends his head to her nipple and takes it in his mouth. He begins to suck, lightly at first, and then with increasing force. Anne throws her head back and softly groans, arching her back to give the knight better access. Henry then turns his attention to the other breast. He loves the feel of them, the taste of them. He loves that, as he suckles, his darling girl delves deeper into the throws of want, need.... Of passion. His hard sex begs him to stop teasing them both. He is ready to take her.

But he looks at her soft, beautiful, clean skin. He himself is drenched in sweat, dirt, and a little blood.

He takes Anne's hand and leads her out of the room and into the bathing hall. He deposits her on a small foot stool, and orders her to watch him and not touch herself. He then turns on the small shower in the corner. He begins to shed his heavy armor, and the thin clothing underneath. Anne watches this all intently. At last her knight stands before her, naked. Her heart pounds loudly in her chest. He looks like an ancient Greek sculpture. He is lean and muscular. His skin seems so tight and hard. His own bottom is high and firm. But her gaze is fixed on his penis. His organ stands proud out in front of him. Its length enthralls her. He is hard as stone and the blood has darkened his organ. Anne longs to touch it, though it terrifies her.

Henry quickly bathes his body, not wanting to prolong the waiting and the wanting. His need is ever present and he can tell his Princess Anne is suffering so... She is prime for the taking... It is time to pluck her as he would a flower in bloom. And her sex was blooming... wet and wanting... He emerges from the shower, clean and glistening. He scoops up his prize, not even bothering to dry his body, and lays a long kiss on her mouth as her holds her in his arms.

Sir Henry takes Anne to the bedroom, kissing her passionately all the way, and drops her onto the hard floor. Anne looks up at him, questioningly, wondering why she is on the floor and not the bed. He sits on the bed, in front of her, his hard manhood bobbing inches from her full pout.

"Kiss me"

Anne, now quick to obey, begins to rise off of her knees to kiss his mouth, but he pushes on her shoulders.

"Not on my lips, darling." He presses the back of her head forward. She sees the glistening tip of his organ and reaches her lips out to place them gently on it. Henry shivers as Anne begins placing little kisses up and down his length.

"Put it in your mouth and move your head up and down" he demands, his voice coming out ragged and rough. Anne opens her mouth, accepting his hard cock inside of it. He tastes salty, musky. He feels hard and strong in her mouth. She begins to glide up and down his shaft, her tongue flicking over the head. Henry moans loudly. The heat of her mouth and the quick flicks of her tongue almost enough to send him over the edge. She glances up and sees his head thrown back, his teeth biting into his lip. Her throat contracts over his skin as he pushes deep. She gags and he withdrawals, knowing, if this continues, he will come too soon. And he hasn't even taken her to the heights of pleasure yet. And she is so ready...

He lifts his princess off of her little knees, and lays her back on the soft satin of her white bed. He lies on top of her and looks down at the girl he fought so hard to claim. And now he would... He watches her eyes as, with one hard thrust, he breaks through her innocence and makes her his. Her eyes squeeze shut in pain and she gasps loudly.

"Henry!" She cries.

"Anne..." He growls in her ear. She is tight as a vice, gripping his hard cock and surrounding it with heat and moisture that feels like heaven, or perhaps a delicious sin... With each thrust she moans louder, and quickly the moans turn from painful to lustful. Though she is new to the art of love making, instinct takes over and she begins to meet his hard thrusts. Their hips fall and rise in unison. He finds her response exciting, and begins to thrust harder. His pelvis rocks against her clitoris with each swift motion.

The feeling of something being so close returns to her and she bucks herself against the muscular body of the man on top of her. His weight drives his cock deeper and his pelvis harder against her. Anne grips Henry's shoulder and digs in her nails. Henry grunts in pain and buries his face into her neck. He begins to nip and suck at the nape, sending his little bird over the edge. All at once Anne is awash in pleasure. Her body convulses and she screams.

"Yes, my little princess, come for me" Anne's orgasms sweeps over her, making her sex clench his manhood even tighter. After the waves of pleasure settle, she lays back, exhausted and content. She has never, ever felt like that. She is weak from the power of her orgasm but her knight does not let up.

Henry, not daring to leave her body, sits up while still inside of her. He sits on the edge of the bed, and she sits on top of him. They wrap their arms around each other and Anne's legs envelop his waste. They lock in a passionate kiss, lips and tongues moving with intense passion and desire. He moves his kiss up to her ear as she begins to rock on top of him. Anne rides her knight as hard as she can, grinding down onto him. They bounce on the bed, Henry fucking his princess with every ounce of strength and energy he has. His cock feels amazing, better then it ever did with his milkmaids.... He wants to thrust into Anne's body forever... feeling the heat of her skin, the wetness as his sex slips in and out of hers. She is tighter then he could imagine. He feels the orgasm building.

He growls in her ear and throws her back onto the bed. Lying on top of her, crushing her legs back over her head, Henry fucks Anne deeper and harder then she thought possible. She squeals and bucks wildly beneath him as he pounds into her. Henry begins to gasp with each building thrust, faster and faster, until he screams out and grips her as close as possible, spilling his seed deep inside of her. He shivers, breaking out into a sweat, and holds her close as he comes. After long seconds, he collapses in bed next to her and gathers her to him. Neither can speak. He holds her close, his princess, his prize, as she drifts to sleep, her head on his shoulder. He sighs then allows himself, her knight, her savior, to drift off with her.