MF force rom size
This story is my attempt at romantic fiction which is tinged with the elements I enjoy most as referenced above. There will be quite a few chapters. Thanks to Arturo and Kasahl for idling the hours away with me as I make this vain attempt at erotica.
This story is based strictly on fiction. The author does not condone real life actions as found in this story. If you read it and like it, please let me know. It always inspires me and may lead to more new stories uploaded in the directory.
Warlord
Chapter 1
by Aaliri
A great cloud of dust trailed behind the riders. Heavily armored and carrying a variety of deadly weapons each one was bone tired and craved sleep badly. The goal was at hand, rest would have to wait. The group had ridden for days to reach the goal. Each man knew his task, knew what must be done. The small village appeared as the riders crested a hill.
Reining his horse in, the leader nodded toward the village as it lay before them. "That is our goal, men. We must not fail for death is far preferrable to anything the Warlord would assign as punishment." Each man agreed with a nod as dread filled their guts with coldness.
The village was unprepared for attack. Fatalities were kept to a bare minimum as only a few foolhardy souls risked their heads in order to spare one woman. Before night had fallen the riders were on their way across the hills with a kicking, screaming captive held tight across the pommel of one rider's saddle. A safe distance from the village the riders stopped. The young woman fought valiantly and even made an attempt at escape. Leather cords securely tied hands and feet together. A thick length of silk formed a gag. It still did not tame her spirit as she sat eyeing them with hatred and rage clearly visible in deep azure eyes. A simple peasant's blouse fell from one shoulder to reveal a bit of one creamy breast.
"By the gods!" the leader swore softly, "Warlord has chosen well." More than one of the men found it necessary to adjust a cock as it swelled to painful hardness. To touch her was to surely face death and none would risk that. Their instructions were clear and would be followed to the letter.
A few days' ride and the men had returned to the Warlord's keep. Guards opened the massive iron gates which were quickly closed again. The riders rode into the courtyard with a clatter of hooves and shouts of triumph. A slender man appeared from the main entry of the keep. He approached the riders and motioned for the girl to be brought inside.
"Greetings, Froi," the leader called out. "Is the Warlord aware of our success?"
"Aye, he knew before you reached even reached the flatlands, Narech," Froi replied. A short, thin man with almost effeminate hands, he acted as the majordomo of the household. None questioned his actions or commands as the warlord trusted him implicitly. "We should hurry," he continued as the girl was carried inside the keep, then up the wide staircase to the second floor. "M'lord is impatient."
Liallan glanced about the huge chamber with dismay. The door had been locked to prevent escape. Dark crimson draperies covered the two windows that flanked a small balcony graced by two arched doors that opened to look out upon a large garden. Each piece of furniture was constructed of dark wood and leather. A sofa and two chairs were arranged in a circular fashion near the stone fireplace that faced the main entry door. Beside the fireplace stood a huge canopied four poster bed. There was also a bathing area set up behind a tall screen near the entryway. A man's room, of that she had no doubt. Fear threatened to overwhelm her but she pushed it back. From past experience she knew that fear would do no good. Accepting her fate, she could not help but tremble inwardly. She was now a captive, but for what purpose?
The short man began to untie the leather cords that held both hands and feet. "I'm quite sorry about this, m'lady," he murmured. "Tis the only way escape could be prevented." He stood with a smile as the final knot was freed. "Come have a bit to eat. The servants are bringing water for a bath shortly."
She allowed the man to lead her to the sofa facing the fireplace. A low table held a tray decorated with thin slices of cheese and various fruits. A crystal decanter of wine along with several goblets sat on the table. Froi poured a generous measure of wine into a goblet. She drank deeply of the wine while only nibbling at cheese and fruit. Froi sat on a low chair across from her.
"Why was I taken?" she asked softly, eyes dark and unreadable.
"You will serve the warlord," Froi replied. A frown marred the smooth skin of his forehead as he thought of better ways to explain to the young lady.
"He will come to me soon?" Closing her eyes tightly she drained the glass of wine. "So I must prepare myself with a bath and perfume, perhaps a-a skimpy night gown of some sort..."
"Yes, he will be here shortly, m'lady. There is nothing that can be done to prevent what will happen," Froi explained. He rose then moved to kneel before her, one hand taking her own, pressing it gently. "M'lord is not an ogre, though many think so since he does not reveal his face. If you will allow him, he will show you the utmost kindness. Please m'lady, do not struggle against him. I beg you."
A shaft of paralyzing fear thrust deep into the center of her heart at Froi's words. At that precise moment the servants arrived with buckets of hot water to fill the tub. She refused all offers of assistance but Froi remained in the chamber as she sunk deep into the hot water. A stiff brush and scented soap removed all the dirt and grime of the past few days. Even the dark, long tresses were grimy before she ducked beneath the surface of the water. Knowing it would do no good to linger she made quick work of the bath and a rudimentary toilette. Froi insisted she use some of the exotic perfumes the warlord had purchased. She did so grudgingly then donned a thin dressing gown of pale sapphire silk.
"I am ready, if there is such a thing," she said, voice flat and emotionless. A thick towel pressed the moisture from the long curling locks of hair as she sat by the fire on a low stool. "There is no need in prolonging the inevitable. Send him to me, Froi."
The majordomo lingered for a few moments. He urged her to drink a bit more wine and take a bit more fruit. The drug laced wine began to take effect as she seemed to grow a bit drowsy, eyes heavy lidded. Froi wanted only what was best for the young lady. He could only pray it was the right thing to do as he left the chamber and locked the door securely behind him.
As darkness settled upon the keep the massive wooden door to the master chamber was opened quietly. Liallan stood to face the master of this domain. Though drowsy from the drugs, she gasped at the sheer size of the form that came through the doorway. Nearly 7 feet tall and shoulders as wide as the door, a leather mask with slits for eye holes covered the upper portion of his face. The skin beneath the mask was darkly tanned and marked by a single scar across one cheek bone. Long raven hair fell just below his shoulders. Shadows masked further perusal as only a single candlabra beside the bed had been lit. That along with the fire's dim light was not enough to reveal more of the master's form.
"M'lord," she whispered with a nod of greeting.
"Greetings, pet," he said with a faint smile. As he stepped closer she could see a black silk robe hid his body from view. "You have spoken with Froi?"
With a brief inclination of her head, she replied, "Yes, just before you came."
"Good...then you know why you are here?" he took her hand. A few steps and they stood beside the bed.
A nod was the only reply she gave. What more was there to say? The drugs had clouded her mind, made her more docile than usual and with the master standing only inches from her there was no choice. A rough hand took her chin. "Look at me, pet," he commanded. Tear filled eyes met his own. "Trust me," he whispered.
Muscular arms bore her trembling form to the bed. A hand tugged the sapphire tie free then slide the robe from her body. The hand slid upward to cup a breast, fingers teasing the nipple to hardness. She gasped as his robe was removed and the hard, muscular body slid against hers. A series of soft, then rougher kisses stung the tender lips. No hope, no escape, the words were repeated over and over inside her head. Fingers tugged each nipple then fingertips caressed the silky underside of each breast.
As he knelt between her thighs eyes were drawn curiously to his manhood. A ripple of fear seized her--he was huge, wrist thick and nearly a foot long, the warlord's manly spear rose proudly from a thick forest of dark hair. There was no way, she thought desperately, he'll tear me apart! "Please...no!" she moaned as fingers teased the soft petals and folds between her thighs. The broad head of his mighty cock pressed firmly against the moist folds. A gasp burst from her lips as his hips thrust forward powerfully. A fiery bolt of pain spread through the once virginal tunnel as he possessed her swiftly, surely and completely.
The warlord's head tossed back with feral lust and ecstasy as he thrust into the velvety, tight channel. A cry of pain came but could not break through the haze of lust that overwhelmed him. One hand cupped the round bottom to lift her upwards, angling the round hips so she could take more of him. It had been so long and his need was great. A frenzy of powerful, deep thrusts brought him to the point of release. With a hoarse groan he thrust fully into Liallan's depths face against her neck, each burst of fiery seed was accompanied by a sob from the girl. She was filled to overflowing with his seed.
"Pet?" She lay quietly, almost lifelessly beneath him. Concern overwhelmed him as the last pulsations of orgasmic bliss faded. Pressing a kiss to her lips, one hand tangled in the long tresses. He moved against her, pressing deeply once again, only to hear a pained whimper. He unwillingly slid free from the moist, hot folds. As he moved to light a lamp she rolled onto one side facing the wall to assume a fetal position. The lamp's light revealed blood stains on the sheets while even more crimson stained the lithe thighs and rounded bottom. He gathered her into his arms, one hand stroking a tear stained cheek. "I did not know, pet...I swear it."
He bathed the tender nether region with tepid water. A bit of Froi's healing balm was applied to heal any damage that had been done during the callous coupling. The drugged wine kept her in a bit of a haze, for which he was thankful. Perhaps the night's memory would fade allowing him to replace it with better ones. It had never been his intent to roughly deflower a virgin for the sole intent of producing an heir. Thing would have been much different had he known. As he pulled her against his body for warmth, a hand cupping one soft breast, he whispered "I'm sorry, pet. Things will be much better next time." She seemed to fall asleep only moments later though slumber was not peaceful.
to be continued...