The following totally fictitious writings of Faibhar are intended for the sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of extreme violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.

The following is for your sole enjoyment and your cooperation in not using the material in any other application without the express permission of the author is requested.

Thank you.

Faibhar.





                              The Passions of Zeema
                                    Part Three

	"Sure you are getting all of this in your journal, Scribe?"

	Galluble didn't have to be asked the question twice. Especially not from the likes of Julius the Sweet. The subject might be tough, but writing came easily to the natural wordsmith. Blinking away her own tears so that she could see clearly turned out to be the greatest challenge as she detailed the various exploits of her hero and lover, Zeema.

	Faithful to the spirit of "Psychomachia", the 16th century collection of poems by the Spanish author that espoused their breaking away from traditional roles of women and seeking victory for the greater good and had led them to this current predicament, Zeema had not given the male dominated group raping her the satisfaction of screaming out. Her sleek body instead see-sawed as erect male members thrust into her from both ends.

	The Scribe paused to wipe her forehead before continuing. Despite the dank surroundings of the subterranean prison, the cell block had gotten stuffy. As she did, she noticed the bishop mop his brow again and adjust his miter that had once more slipped to an angle over his bald pate. She looked to Zeema. Agonies had caused the athletic beauty to weaken. Bare knees now scraped the rock flooring. The long back bowed as its owner accepted yet another hard cock thrust into her mouth. By this time, Galluble noticed, one cock after the next slipped easily into Zeema's pussy or arse.

	Julius the Sweet earlier boasted that even he was not too proud to follow the god Ares though was later disappointed not to find the expected Ambrosia, plunging his organ into nothing more than ordinary cum. He tried save face before his party but clearly was deflated and sullenly observed the others as they took the warrior princess.

	He stood next to the perspiring cleric and said after some dozen had had their fun with the condemned, "Let's try something new, shall we? Galluble, drop your quill and parchment and come over here. Stand in front of your messy friend."

	Galluble paused for a moment and then did as she was told. She stepped into the circle and stood over the black crown of Zemma's head. "So. Had your fun yet? Like it when your women are defenseless?" Her fists bunched in anger and her voice was tight with fury.

	Julius the Sweet laughed heartily. "No, my dear. We have only begun the traditional execution. Is that night right, bishop?"

	The cleric nervously bobbed his affirmation as the governor gripped the neckline of Galluble's tunic costume and ripped it wide. All in the room, save Zeema whose lowered head could not see as the young scribe's breasts bounced out. Eyes searched her nakedness down to the exposed blonde triangle.

	"No need to cover up. In fact, your friend down here wants to have a look too." He gripped a fistful of the raven mane and jerked Zeema's head up. A flaking white mask covered the warrior princess's features as her rose to the same level as Galluble's crotch.

	Through matted lashes Zeema said in a low voice, "Do what you want to me, Pig. But let her go."

	"Wished that I could Zeema. But, you see, we want you two girls to show us how much you really care for each other and you get to start by using your tongue."

	"Forget that shit. Never!"

	"Hmmm, well it seems that our friend Zeema needs a bit of persuading. Tell me, bitch," Julius the Sweet yanked harder on Zeema's hair, "would you save your little friend here?" He rapidly unsheathed his dagger and pressed it on Galluble's neck. "Better do as I say, Zeema, or this one gets killed. Do you want her blood on your hands?"

	The bishop searched his cassock, pretending to feel for his rosary beads. Tension in the small room had notably risen. The blonde's bare chest heaved up and down faster as the blade pressed deeper into the side of her neck. He looked at Zeema. Slowly, the tip of a pink tongue appeared and stretched forward into the tight mass of blonde curls between the scribe's legs. Strands of black hair slipped down from the governor's grip. The tongue disappeared as it began to wind its way into the other female.

	Galluble tensed. First her clothes were ripped, then the knife and now what she had always wanted seared softly into her. She briefly opened her clinched eyes and looked down. Zeema's head bobbed into her. She felt the tongue twist and turn and flick over her most private parts. She closed her eyes again, parted her lips and sighed. This was hardly the setting she had dreamed about, but Zeema's power and her own body's reaction overcame any reluctance. Others in the cell were quickly forgotten.

	The bishop forgot all about finding his beads. The sight provided an epiphany in itself. Slurping sounds and heavy breathing made for a symphony worthy of any classical music. The short blonde with closed eyes and full breasts seemed to slightly sway as the black-haired one serviced her until she balanced on one foot and placed a naked leg atop Zeema's back. His miter slipped forward and again he pushed it back to better see the action.

	"Sorry to intrude,uhm, ladies," Julius said still gripping hair and knife, "but we do have something of a schedule for this execution." He brought the dagger away from the Scribe's throat and let her go. He watched the blonde drop to her knees and brace Zeema's head between her two hands. Zeema deeply kissed her back before the two were separated. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Bishop,I say ah Bishop? Hey!"

	The senior member of the church awoke from his trance-like state with a start as he realized that his name was being called.

	"That's better. I see that I have at last your attention so tell me, what's next in our execution for these history buffs, the one who is to hang is already, in the buff and the other almost there, but anyway, lead the way. Pray do tell, what's next?"

	Stuttering as he fought to regain control, the bishop looked at the governor and trembled. "Yyyyour Excellency. I believe a scourging is next."

	"Very well then. Let's get this crew up one floor to the torture chamber."

	Julius the Sweet let go of the fistful of hair. Zeema dropped back down to the stone as soldiers pulled Galluble away and others unlocked chains around the warrior princess's wrists and ankles.



                                     To Be Continued