The Hunt for Snow WhitebyTimNonymous©
At the uppermost level of a castle, by the ledge of a broad arching window facing the ancient forest, sat the Huntsman Hansel. Though he wore the clothes of a simple commoner, an acknowledgment perhaps to his post as a huntsman, he was in truth a person of some status. Indeed, five years has passed since he was compelled to go to the castle, harassed into wearing some fancy clothes, and made to stand among lords and nobles to witness his sister's wedding to the King. Since then however, he has made no attempt to contact Her Majesty the Queen, and even refused the monies, the land and title offered to him owing to his royal kinship. For though the woman he saw beside the king at the altar wore the face of his younger sister Gretel, who ran away shortly after their father's death, the huntsman felt that the Queen was a complete stranger to him.
A year later, he made another appearance at the castle to pay his respects to the king who died after being struck by a strange and incurable illness. Watching his sister, covered from head to toe by a dark veil, crying beside the casket, he thought then that the funeral would be the last and only time he shall again set foot upon the stone floors of the castle. He was wrong. For one day, while he was splitting wood for his sixth winter as the estranged and eccentric Lord Hansel, he received a message from the Queen commanding his presence at the castle to receive instructions for an undisclosed errand.
When he arrived at the castle earlier that day, he was made to wait inside the late king's chambers. The Queen, just then—he was told, was entertaining a fat prince from some neighbouring kingdom. The maid servant who led him to the chambers was not particularly subtle as to what she meant by 'entertaining the prince,' so the huntsman was prepared to wait a while to reacquaint himself with Her Majesty. However, not long after he settled to wait by the window's ledge, the queen, naked as the day she was born, entered the king's chamber followed by a brute of a manservant and a voluptuous maiden who carried a silver tray with a glass vial on it. The queen did not stop to greet her brother but instead trooped to the bed with the manservant.
"Take a drink from the vial Hansel. You will receive your instructions tomorrow," said Her Majesty, visibly irate. Apparently, the prince preferred his entertainment swift and unsatisfying.
After some reluctance, the huntsman drank the vial the maiden handed to him. Whatever the potion was inside, the effect was immediate for suddenly he felt his cock stiffen fast and so hard it hurt. When he looked up, the manservant was already fucking the queen's face as she lay on her back, while the maiden—on hands and knees—sank her tongue inside the queen's cunt. The huntsman heard the queen choke and struggle with the manservant's enormous penis but instead of pushing him away, she grabbed his butt and forced him to ram his cock even deeper down her throat. The huntsman then caught a glimpse of the maiden slipping a free hand between her legs, beckoning him to come closer. The gesture was unmistakable. The huntsman drew close and fucked her from behind.
That night, the late king's bed chamber echoed with the moans and screams of pleasure, as the huntsman and manservant fucked the queen and maiden in every imaginable way. Most of the time, they paired up: the queen with the huntsman; the maiden with the manservant; and then, later, swapped partners soon after the women climaxed. Other times, the women took turns being fucked in the ass and in their pussy or in their mouth at the same time by the two men. Later still, while the huntsman took a much needed rest, he watched the women took turns sitting on the manservant's face while the other rode his cock. And when the manservant took his turn to rest, the queen and maiden then crawled over to the huntsman and licked and sucked his cock, where after his shaft was coated with frothing wet dripping spit, the huntsman then took the queen from behind while she in turn licked the maiden's cunt, the maiden having lied on her back.
Each time any one of the men withdrew to climax, one or both of the women would hurry to grab the throbbing dick, then shove the tip of the penis inside one of their mouths to suck and swallow the fountain of thick warm cum down their throats. The manservant and the huntsman had climax as much as seven times already before dawn, but at no time in between did their cocks soften—a feat, the huntsman believed, made possible only by the potion they all must have drank.
When the huntsman climaxed for the eighth and last time into the maiden's eager mouth, he thought he was about to die for he truly felt that there was not an ounce of life left in him. But as much as he wanted to close his eyes and die then and there, the maiden nonetheless slid herself on top and kept on fucking him, her bulbous tits swinging like chandeliers flicking sweat all over his chest, while frothy drool dripped down his face.
A while later, after the maiden reached her hundredth climax and collapsed on top of him, the huntsman heard his sister ringing a bell. The huntsman then looked in disbelief as two more menservants entered her chamber. The last thing he saw before exhaustion claimed him was the sight of the three menservants thrusting their immense dicks into the Queen's every orifice.
The morning after, the huntsman woke up and found himself alone in bed. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes wondering whether last night was dream, or perhaps, some nightmare. Thirsty, he looked around for something to drink. He spied a tray of food and a bottle of wine at the floor beside his bed. Stuck under the tray, however, was a letter. The huntsman got off the bed and read.
Men loyal to the King have conspired against me. They have sent my stepdaughter, Snow White, to that place in the forest where no man or woman may pass save those who were touched by the enchanted ones. I know not how they manage to do this, but it does not matter. Fools that they are, these traitors do not realize that you and I had once encountered and been touched by an enchanted one. Moreover, these idiots just assumed I have no means to divine the whereabouts of the girl in that part of the forest, as indeed, divined I have while you slept. It might amuse you to know dearest brother that the girl now inhabits the place we are so familiar with: the witch's cottage inside that ancient Keep!
Go to the girl dear Hansel, kill her and bring her heart back to me in a small chest. I have arranged for you to meet at the northern garrison Captain Sersi and a small band of mercenaries to escort you as far as the river cross. The girl you met last night will accompany you in your journey for she is familiar with arcane and would be able to send news of your errand faster than a courier falcon.
Do not refuse me this errand dear brother, or that village whore you have been sleeping with once every fortnight, and her children, will suffer terribly.
Three days past his reunion with the queen, Hansel left the last garrison at the northern most border of the king's land past his wooden cottage. With him were two women and twenty men. Of the women, one was the leader of their group, Captain Vera Sersi; the other was the maiden her majesty insisted Hansel take with him on his journey.
Their drudging slog through the forest was uneventful, to say the least. They met no one and heard nothing but the sounds of the wild, the rumble of the oxcart carrying their supplies, the clopping of the horses' hooves, and the sporadic conversation among the mercenaries and the captain. The huntsman and the girl, however, rode their horses mostly in silence.
Just before sunset, on their fifth day in the forest, the group camped among the ruins of some fortress, not far from which was where Hansel and his sister were first abandoned by their parents. Desperate to arrest his mind from dwelling in the past, the huntsman turned to the maiden who was then preparing his food and had earlier introduced herself as Ruadh.
"What do you know of our captain, Ruadh?" The huntsman asked, for no reason other than to bring his mind to the present.
Ruadh raised an eyebrow in amusement, and said: "But surely my lord, you must know of Captain Sersi?"
"She is the only child of Lord General Alfons Sersi, that much I know. But last I heard, she was supposed to marry the old widower, Barron Noris Harkel," said the huntsman.
As she sat beside him, Ruadh said: "The wedding never took place, my lord." To his ear, she whispered: "Instead of marrying the baron, she ran away and indentured herself as a camp whore for a company of mercenaries under the charge of Lord Sorum. When he discovered who she was, Lord Sorum took her in as his tent mistress. Then one night, after a great battle, while she tended Lord Sorum's injuries alone, three assassins slipped into his tent. Believe me or not my lord, that girl picked up her master's sword and fought and killed those three assassins with not a scratch on her! It was not long thereafter that she was given charge of a band of mercenaries, and while many at first scoffed her commission, she later gained their respect by proving herself in many battles."
The huntsman shook his head, impressed. "I take it she had been thoroughly tutored in the art of fighting as child?" The huntsman asked.
"Aye, she is a general's daughter after all, my lord," she said.
The Huntsman glanced over to where the mercenaries and the captain sat some paces away from the campfire. The captain had chestnut hair, cropped short as a boy, an elven face and a lithe body. She had taken off her chain-mail during the night and was clothed only with a linen shirt while a gray woolen cloak draped over her shoulders. A few of the men were teasing the youngest of their group—laughing and tousling his messy blond hair. The boy, apparently, had his clumsy advances spurned by a maid servant at the garrison. After the men recounted, with much embellishment, the boy's embarrassing story, the captain took a long swig from a bottle and said something that caused many to holler, and the boy to grow red in the face. Amidst the wild jeering and yelling, the captain stood up, undid her broad belt and took off her breeches. The boy was then manhandled and hurled close to where she stood. With much haste, the boy too undid his belt and positioned himself on top of the captain who had lain on her back disgorging a huge amount of spit on her palm which she instantly wiped on the tip of boy's penis.
A boisterous crowd has gathered around where the boy was grunting with the effort of thrusting and pulling on top of the captain who had hooked both of her bare booted legs below the boy's pale rump. The huntsman noticed that the crowd was fewer than before the business with the captain and the boy began. He looked up to the tree line beyond the camp. After a moment, the hairs at the back of his neck stood up.
"Is something the matter, my lord?" Ruadh asked.
"Run back to those walls. Hide! We're surrounded!" The huntsman cried. Just then, arrows flew from the side, over their heads and into the trees. They heard men scream as the arrows found their targets. The huntsman grabbed his axe and ran towards the captain who by then had calmly slipped out from under the boy and was picking up her sword as she stood up. Her men having already formed a thin line of battle, the captain faced the huntsman.
"Where's the girl?" She asked, calmly.
"Back at the ruins," huntsman answered. No sooner than he had spoken the words, however, men wielding swords came rushing out of the tree line, screaming.
"Cover my back and do not leave my side!" She commanded.
Then one of her men hurried over to the fire and threw a wet blanket over it, sending the camp into darkness.
The huntsman was still adjusting his sight to the darkness when he heard at his back and around him loud clashes of metal hitting another, followed by the pained swift grunts and screams of the few who had fallen. The huntsman fought the urge to look around and at his back to where the captain, he sensed, was furiously battling two men at the same time.
A few hard breaths later, he saw the silhouettes of two men running towards him. With heart beating louder than the bedlam around him, the huntsman drew a large knife at his back and threw it hard at the center of the man on his left, praying that his aim was true. He barely noticed the man fell however, for no sooner than the knife left his hand, the huntsman had to drop to his knees to avoid being decapitated by the man on his right. As the sword sliced the air above him, the huntsman swung his axe across, splitting his opponent's shin in two. The man fell screaming. The huntsman raised his axe, intent on burying the head deep into the skull of the fallen man when he hesitated. Up until that very night, he had never taken another man's life. Amidst, the deafening screams and wails of men fighting and dying, the huntsman sat on his knees, axe forgotten his side, perplexed as what to do next. The decision was taken out of his hands, however, for a few moments thereafter, he had time enough to notice a boot at the end of a woman's bare leg before it hit him at the side of the head. Then he fainted.
The sun has just risen when the huntsman came to, brushing a hand on the swollen gash at the side of his head, caked in dried blood. His vision swam and he felt vomit rising from his gorge but held it. He sat up and saw the captain's men appropriating valuables from the corpses. The huntsman turned to the one closest to him and asked whether the girl with him last night was unharmed. The mercenary told him instead to ask the captain, then pointed his head somewhere behind him.
With shaky legs, the huntsman stood up and turned to where mercenary indicated. He saw the captain, still without her breeches, squatting on top of a young man tied spread-eagled to wooden pegs stuck to the ground. She was stroking the man's penis. When the man's organ became hard enough she lowered herself and slipped his manhood inside her cunt. Wearily, the huntsman approached and sat beside the odd couple.
"Captain, have any one seen Ruadh?" The huntsman asked.
Eyes closed, hips grinding in time to some invisible rhythm, she did not answer immediately.
"No, but they have noticed a horse and some supplies m-m-m-missing," the captain stammered, apparently climaxing.
She kept on fucking the doomed man. As soon she felt that he too was about to climax, she freed a knife from her boot and leaned forward. She placed the edge of the knife at the side young man's neck. She paused to stare straight into his terrified eyes, and then quickly, but dispassionately, slit his throat. When thick blood began to spout, the captain withdrew, slithering down to the dying man's organ. She slipped the throbbing penis inside her mouth, vigorously stroking the space between her lips and the base of his shaft. And when at last, the man finally came, the captain sucked and swallowed every drop cum gushing out of the dying man's cock.
Just then, the huntsman noticed with disgust, a few paces away from where he sat, two other corpses tied to the ground—throats slit, and flaccid dicks exposed.
Shortly thereafter, the captain sat beside the huntsman, wiping the spit and cum from her mouth, and drank some liquid from a canteen. When she offered the same canteen to the huntsman, he declined. The pair was silent for moment while they surveyed the carnage before them.
"Did Ruadh betray us Captain?" The huntsman mused.
"Those men already knew where we are heading, Lord Hansel. And I told no one beforehand about choosing this place to camp for the night so I could draw the bastards out," she answered sighing. The huntsman just nodded in response.
"Let's not tarry, my lord," said the captain later as she stood up. "Or else we may yet earn her majesty's ire, and that terrifies me more than you can imagine," she continued. After walking a few paces, the captain turned to face the huntsman and, with a wry smile, said: "Oh, and my apologies to the boot to your head."
The enchanted forest was even more malevolent than the huntsman recollected. Walking past ancient trees, through moss ridden hanging vines as thick as a man's limb, he felt a primordial entity, its presence permeating the entire forest, resent and barely tolerate his passing. Every step he took was a struggle not to turn back to where the captain and her men had camped across the river, awaiting his return. But as much as wish to run and abandon her majesty's errand, he knew cannot.
He spent a cold night inside the deep hollow of a great tree, forgoing the warmth of a camp fire for the same might attract unwanted attention. By first light, the huntsman continued gloomily on his journey. Then just past noon, he came upon a wide deep valley in the middle of the forest. After taking in the sense foreboding he felt, the huntsman looked up and held before his eyes, there hanging upon the canyon walls, above the canopy of trees growing out of the valley floor, the ruins of the ancient Keep.
The huntsman dallied a moment, reminiscing as to how he and his sister came upon the place. After days without food and water, a white raven suddenly landed upon a low branch, squawking excitedly. Intent on capturing it for sustenance, he and his sister followed the bird only to stumble upon the Keep much later. Inside it, they discovered a thatch roofed cottage with tall windows--sills so wide it resembled a table; as indeed they had used the same as a table when they found baskets of warm bread, bottles of wine and candies conveniently placed upon it. Then, while he and his sister shamelessly devoured the food and wine and candies set before them, a beautiful woman of some indeterminate age, with raven black hair, stepped out of the door.
He pressed a hand on the side of his head in an attempt to stem the memories of pain and suffering he endured at the hands of the witch. He was not so successful. Haltingly, he forced his feet to move one after another. After a few paces, he felt the pressure in his chest ease a little and breathed a sigh of relief. As he hurriedly walked towards the Keep, the huntsman recalled with passing realization the fact that he never really saw his sister slay the witch. He just took her at her word that she tricked the witch into going inside the hot furnace then closed the door.
The huntsman circled the Keep's surroundings, noting the smattering of tracks near its walls while making sure no one from inside could see him. His careful survey done, he sat on a hill looking for any sign of life inside.
Just before sunset, when he still saw no sign of movement, no wood smoke rising out of the chimney, he strode over to the cottage, feeling like a man about to meet his death.
Inside the cottage, the huntsman lingered for a short time at the parlor. When he found nothing that caught his attention, he bent down on his knee beside the fireplace, placing a hand upon the hearth, and confirmed what he already suspected. He inspected the one room in the cottage, lifting the lids of the chests beside the bed, finding a full set of clothes for a girl of some means. He went to the kitchen, opening the cupboards and discovered enough provisions to last the winter. When he hunkered down to the cast iron stove, however, he took a burnt piece of wood from inside, tied a string around it, and attached the other end to his right boot. He replaced the burnt wood inside the stove and half closed the door. Then the huntsman sat by the dining table and drank water from his canteen. He sat there for a very long while, his back to kitchen door which was slightly ajar, watching the shadows cast by the dying sun grow.