Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/A/ASS14637.TXT

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 26.8 KB | 433 lines

Your comments are encouraged (either in a.s.s.d. or directly to me at
[e-mail]: Once the majority opinion seems to be that this story
sucks money-dick, I'll stop posting it. :-)

--Tak

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@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
This post contains scenes of female
masturbation, an adult male having sex
with an underage female, and mild violence.
not to mention a little bit of character
development. If any of these offend you,
I advise you to stop reading.
@END_FILE_ID.DIZ

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Copyright 1995 by Wordsmiths. All Rights Reserved. Permission granted for
not-for-profit electronic redistribution and archiving, as long as all
bylines and copyright acknowledgments are left intact.

DePINDER'S WAR, by Takhira

Part One: The Front

Chapter Three

 It wasn't that it was an unfamiliar feeling. In fact, she had it more
often than she liked... the tightening of her nipples, the tingling in her
stomach...
 She was horny more often than someone in her situation could afford to
be, but she'd never been as horny as she was now. And with every step she
took, the sexual feelings and urges were growing; the way her nipples
rubbed against her shirt as she walked quickly down the twisting hallway,
the ever-so-slight tightness of her pants at her crotch, things she
wouldn't even notice normally were making her heart beat faster. And every
step was making the warmth between her legs grow stronger.
 "Hey, DePinder!"
 She stopped and turned to face the sound of the voice. Corbayne was
walking toward her. Her eyes went immediately to his crotch, and the
discreet bulge between his legs; what would his hard dick feel like inside
her, she wondered.
 Then she pulled her eyes to his face, shocked at her own thoughts.
Corbayne was her friend and subordinate. Even if he were to consent to
fuck her, she would be asking him to take part in an illegal and immoral
act. How could she even have thought it?
 "Are you all right?" he asked, stopping inches away from her. She wanted
to reach out and throw her arms around him and kiss him the way she had
only been kissed once before in her life.
 "Yes," she said, reflexively licking her lips, her eyes flickering to
Corbayne's crotch and then back to his face. She drank in every detail of
his face, his slightly crooked nose that had been broken by an elven
infitrator last year, his almond-shaped eyes, their stormcloud-color, his
perpetually tan, broad face that was framed by night-black air. She tried
to concentrate on her voice, to keep any hint of what she was feeling,
what she wanted to do, out of it. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
 Corbayne looked away with a shrug. "You gave me a strange look back
there."
 "I'm fine." Before she knew what she was doing, she had reached out and
touched his face, the tips of her fingers grazing his moist lips. Lips
that should be on hers as their toungues met and his hands moved across
her yearning body. A chill ran up her spine and her pussy spasmed. Her
nipples were so hard and erect that she suspected he could see them
through her shirt and thick jacket. And this thought didn't embarrass her;
it just turned her on even more. "I'm fine," she repeated, turning and
continuing her rapid walk down the hall, her spurs jangling. "I'll see you
at the tavern. Go dig out your civvies, friend."
 "Yes, sir," Corbayne called after her.

 She had barely closed the door behind her before she unbuckled her
swordbelt and tore at the buttons of her pants. As her sword clattered to
the floor and her pants slid off her hips, she drove two fingers past her
lips and into her.
 "Gods," she muttered. She was already so wet that her fingers slid in
effortlessly and the act of parting her lips made her shiver. Could this
intense horniness have come from being interrupted just as she was about
to orgasm earlier in the day? She had been interrupted before, but usually
by a knock on the door, or a shout in the hallway. Being interrupted by a
man shoving his hot, rockhard dick into her cunt was something entirely
different. If only she had that dick now... if only she had let him fuck
her; fat and vicious or not, she now was certain that he could have
satisfied, just like Atina had satisfied her those many years ago...
 With a soft groan and her fingers working as juices began to run down her
inner thighs, she stumbled to the bed, her pants sliding down the top
edges of her long boots. She threw herself forward, bringing her full
weight down on the two fingers inside her. Pain and blinding pleasure shot
through her, and she let out a muffled cry into the mattress. She began to
pump on the fingers as she held them rigid inside her, raising her butt up
and down. Her pussy clenched around her fingers as the first, mild orgasm
rolled through her body. She squirmed across the bed, feeling the pressure
and friction against her sensitive nipples, panting and biting her lower
lip.
 "Atina," she sighed, pumping on her fingers. "Oh, Atina... fuck me..."

 Atina was the only man to who had ever made love to DePinder. When she 14
and preparing to enter the Academy, her father had hired a fencing
instructor for her. Although Atina balked at the idea of having to teach a
girl one of the arts of war, the extra money father had offered him more
than double of what he could be making elsewhere.
 Atina had the finely-toned body of a swordsman who relied more on finesse
than brute strength, the kind of warrior who would block and dance around
combatants who wield swords like cleavers, only to slash them open with a
graceful spin. His facial features were weak and ill-defined--his nose was
more or less flat and his chin was virtually non-existent. His eyes were a
faded blue color, and his hair was same color as the crust on a loaf of
white bread. He was not at all the man she dreamed about late at night,
the sharply-featured, muscle-bound, who would come and take her into his
arms and carry her off to some distant land where she could live as his
wife, a woman, instead of a girl who had been forced to live like a boy.
Grand Captain DePinder needed a male heir to carry on the family's
military legacy, and since she, Arim DePinder, had the audacity to kill
the Grand Captain's wife as she entered this world, that burden fell to
her. By degree of the Imperial Court of Justice, Arim DePinder was a male.
Nonetheless, as a child growing up, she indulged in romantic fantasies of
traveling to a distant land and marrying a brave and handsome Master of
the Ride or Lieutenant of the Lance, who would let her wear fine dresses
and beautiful earrings like the courtiers at the Emperor's Court. He would
shower her with gifts of perfume and sweet-smelling bathwaters, and he
would never make her touch a sword or ride a horse ever again. And he
would take her in his arms, every day, and kiss her and tell her how much
he loved her. But that fantasy, of course, could never come true for
DePinder, not even one remotely resembling it. Atina made her realize
that.
 Atina had been teaching her for more than half-a-year when it had
happened. They were using wooden practice swords with a mild topical
poison rubbed on the "blades," so every hit scored on naked flesh would
raise painfully itching welts, and so they were both virtually naked;
Atina was only wearing a loincloth, and DePinder was similarly clad with
an additional strip of cloth tied tightly around her breasts, which were
almost as big as they were every going to get.
 They had been practicing feints and parries, and the way Atina's muscles
rolled and shifted under his skin with each strike or lunge had been very
distracting to DePinder. They had practiced in this fashion many times
before, but never had Atina's muscles seemed so interesting before, and
nor had looking at them produced the pleasurable warmth that was spreading
in her crotch and belly. In fact, she was so distracted that Atina
noticed.
 "What is wrong with you today, Arim? You should have easily been able to
parry that... it was a well-telegraphed Lume Thrust. If this had been a
real sword your guts would be spilling across your tighs right now."
 "I'm sorry, Master Atina," DePinder muttered, rubbing the rising welt.
Atina had struck her right above her loincloth, tracing a line parallel to
the edge of it. "I'll do better."
 "Be sure that you do, because elves don't used wooden swords," he said,
turning his back to her and walking to the opposite end of the training
room. "Now, wash your stomach, so we can try it again."
 DePinder walked rapidly toward the wash basin that stood on a small bench
in the corner, the heels of her bare feet pounding on the floorboard. Her
face felt hot, and she knew her cheeks were red with embarrassment. She
would have to concentrate harder, she knew that, but how could she
concentrate when the very sight of her teacher made her breasts tingle and
her groin and belly feel warm and strange. She splashed water onto her
stomach, and began rubbing a washcloth across the poisoned area. As she
rubbed her belly, and the water trickled down into her loincloth, the warm
feeling between her legs grew intense. Without even thinking, she pressed
the damp cloth against her, between her legs. She shuddered and sighed
softly. She had felt this feeling a few nights back, as she had been lying
in bed, running through the fantasy of the handsome officer, and pressing
a pillow against her had brought waves of pleasure that had sent her off
to sleep. Now that feeling was back, and it was even stronger. She bit her
lower lip, rubbing the wet cloth against her. She saw the handsome officer
in her mind's eye...
 "Arim?"
 Atina's voice yanked her back to reality. She flung the washcloth into
the waterbasin and turned to face him, an odd embarrassment stealing over
her. "I was just washing myself," she said, trying to avert questions over
what she was doing; she suspected that day-dreaming and rubbing herself
where she urinated didn't qualify as concentrating... she was, in fact,
certain that it qualified and sick.
 But to her horror, she discovered Atina was virtually standing next to
her. There was no way he could have missed seeing what she was doing.
 "Why were you touching yourself between your legs?" he asked softly.
 She felt her face grow bright red. "I think some poison got down there."
 He smiled. "You don't have to lie. Were you touching yourself because of
me?"
 "No," she said, too quickly and with too much conviction.
 "If you were, it wasn't anything to be ashamed of. You're making me feel
the same way."
 "I am?" The warmness was joined by a tightening feeling deep in her
belly.
 "Yes," he said with a voice that was soft as silk. "You are an attractive
young woman, and I like attractive young women, even if the court says
they're men."
 "Do you find me attractive?" DePinder suddenly felt breathless. She
leaned back against the wall, her hands on her thighs.
 "I find you a vision of loveliness," he replied. "May I kiss you?"
 "Yes," she said, breathlessly, the handsome officer drifting through her
mind. "Please."
 Atina pressed his lips on hers, pushing hard against her face. At the
same time, he pressed his groin between her legs. A pleasurable chill ran
shot up DePinder's spine and down her thighs. She had never felt anything
like it before. She gasped with surprise, and Atina pushed his tongue into
her mouth. She was initially shocked, as she felt it moving around inside
her mouth, but it triggered more chills, and the way the hardness was
pressing against the sensitive spot between her legs made her want to have
him there forever. So she shoved her tongue forward and started trying to
imitate him.
 But just as she did, he dropped his face to her neck and began kissing
her there. She felt his teeth on her neck, and he pressed his groin harder
against hers, and she could not prevent the moan from escaping her. Then
she felt his hand between her breasts, his nimble fingers untying the knot
which held the cloth against her tingling nipples. It was swiftly undone,
and as the strip of clothing fell from her chest, she was about to say
something, about to ask him to stop... but then his lips were suddenly on
her right breast, and all she could do was moan again.
 Atina sucked her stiff nipple between his lips, opening and closing them
around it. His teeth gently closed on it. Then DePinder felt his hand
pressing against her pussy, the heel of his palm massaging her though the
loincloth. She trembled as a spasm ran through her groin and her knees
suddenly grew weak. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes,
reveling in the pleasure of his hand rubbing her and his mouth on her
breasts, as he moved from one nipple to the other, biting and sucking.
 The she felt his tongue gliding from the small mounds of her breasts and
across her belly. She felt his hands on her hips, pulling at her
loincloth. Moments later, it too fell to the floor, leaving her naked. His
hands were on her breasts, rubbing them slowly and gently, the pressure
making her nipples ache, and he was rubbing his warm face and wet tongue
all over her belly.
 "G'Hebna," DePinder managed to whisper, invoking the name of the only
being she could imagine behind these wonderful feelings rushing through
her, as her knees gave out and she sank to a sitting position on the small
bench. Her left hand knocked the washbasin off, and it clattered the
floor, splashing water on the wall.
 Then he kissed her between her legs, on the slit where fuzz had started
to grow in the last six months. He felt his tongue pushing past her second
set of lips just as it had the first, and as he did, she felt a rush of
liquid coming from inside her. Terror and mortification slashed through
the sexual excitement, and she pushed his head away, certain that she had
just urinated in his mouth. "I'msorrysorrysorry!"
 "Arim," he said, looking up at her, his face glistening with fluid. "You
taste so wonderful." And then his mouth was back on the slit between her
legs, his tongue sliding in again. The next thing she knew, the feeling of
pleasure intensified, and she spread her thighs, wanting him to have more
of a chance to make her feel that good. His hands wandered down her body
and came to rest on her thighs. With each wave of pleasure sent through
her by his tongue, she thought she felt new streams of urine running from
her pussy and over her inner thighs and his face. She forced herself to
look down. His face was buried against her, but she saw that he was now as
naked as she, and that there was a hard, fleshy shaft waving between his
legs. She wondered for a moment what he was doing with that strange
looking sap, but then it dawned on her that it was his thing.
 She had eavesdropped on enough of the serving girls to know what men did
with their things when they made love. In her fantasies about the handsome
officer, he never used his thing, because one of the serving maids had
once complained about how much they hurt when they were put inside you.
Fear crept along the edges of her passion-soaked awareness, but then a new
sensation exploded between her legs. His tongue was still working inside
her, but how it had been joined by something still; he had slid one of his
fingers into her and was pumping it in and out, and his tongue swirled
around a tight knot of excitement that was spreading throughout her. She
closed her eyes again, beginning to gyrate her hips slightly without even
thinking. She began to moan as he worked a second finger into the tight
space. Soon a third was in as well, and DePinder soon found it hard to
breathe. Her every muscle was tingling and her heart was racing. His
tongue and fingers moved around inside her for what seemed like an
eternity, but she loved every moment of it. With each stroke, she felt
something growing, a feeling like when he first kissed her down there, but
much more intense. Then, without warning, he pulled away. She felt his
hand on her lower back. She opened her eyes to look at him again.
 "Come," he said, leaning back on one arm, his legs unfolding and
stretching out before him. His thing as standing straight out, appearing
veined and gnarled, its bulbous tip glistening with moisture. He pulled
her off the bench. "Come."
 DePinder knew what he wanted. Even though the fear was beginning to creep
back, she knew that she wanted it too. His fingers had felt so good
insider her...
 His other hand, wet with the same liquid that poured down DePinder's
thighs as she moved up his legs, moved on his thing, making its entire
surface glisten. As she sat before it, feeling it press against the fuzz
at her crotch, her lips parting slighting around it, she bent her head
sharply to kiss its tip. "Oh, Arim," he sighed. Then both his hands were
on her hips, lifting her up. The bulbous tip of his thing pressed against
her lips as she watched the muscles of his biceps bulge. He held her there
for a while, the tip rubbing against her slit, and as DePinder felt the
heat within her continue to grow, she licked her lips, sighing raggedly.

 The memories of her lover caused a blinding orgasm to surge through
DePinder's body. Four fingers were inside her, and her other hand had been
worked up under her shirt where it was rubbing her right nipple furiously.
She flipped onto her back, trying to spread her knees further but hampered
by her pants that were caught on her boots. She twisted across the bed,
her right toes working futilely against her left heel in an effort to push
off the long riding boot. Her spurs slashed at the black leather and cut
at her sheets and mattress. As he orgasm made all her insides tremble, she
remembered how his dick had first entered her, filling her in a way she
had never been filled before or since...

 And then, he lowered her onto his thing. The mixture of pain and pleasure
almost made DePinder pass out, and she couldn't stop herself from crying
out. She tried to pull away from him, but his hands were firmly locked
around her narrow hips, his beautiful, shifting muscles now revealed as a
beartrap that would result in her doom. But as she thrashed, she drove
herself further down onto the shaft that was ripping her apart, and pain
gave way to overwhelming pleasure. She felt the touch of G'Hebna on her
body again, moaned loudly, and began to gyrate her hips around the shaft.
Soon, she felt the rough hairs around his thing against her crotch, and
she felt herself being lifted into the air as he thrust against her,
pushing into her even deeper, creating new waves of pleasure and pain.
Then his hands were on the back on her neck and he pulled her forward. She
scissored, her mouth instantly pressing against hers, their tongues
ramming against each other. Then something exploded inside her. She felt
liquid gobs shooting against the inside of her belly, where the thing had
been driven. She felt violent spasms between her legs, and waves of
passion so strong that they made her tingle with almost painful sensations
whipped though her. She wanted to keep her mouth on his, but couldn't; she
couldn't keep her head from whipping back and forth, her tongue moving
wetly across his face. She cried out again, moaned loudly, then shouted
her pleasure into his face, thrashing uncontrollably.
 "Arim," he cried.
 "Arim," bellowed another voice. "Arim, what in the name of Nelemi are you
doing?!"
 The next thing she knew, she was rolling across the floor. She braced
herself with an elbow, flat on her back, legs splayed wide, and stared up
at the massive, black-clad bulk of her father. His face was a wild mask of
hatred, his green eyes flaring like fires. "Cover yourself, boy," he
roared, striding toward Atina, who was scrambling backwards, moving on his
hands and bent legs like some kind of bizarre animal. His face was a mask
of fear.
 "Father," she began, but then his roaring voice filled the room.
 "You filthy, perverted, bastard!" Her father's boot connected with
Atina's ill-defined chin, and her lover made a half-turn and fell on his
side. "Don't you ever touch my son again!"
 "Grand Captain," he whimpered, blood pouring from his mouth and split
lip. "Please..."
 "You will speak only to the Justice," her father bellowed, drowning out
even Atina's voice. "You will pay the price for raping my son!"
 "No," Arim cried.
 "Be quiet!" Her father turned his frightening visage toward her. "You
will cover your nakedness, and then you will go to the physician. I want
to be sure you have not been harmed by this animal!" And then he kicked
Atina again.
 Fear filling her as passion had moments before, DePinder grabbed her
fallen garments. As she went to fasten the loincloth around her hips, she
saw the blood; it was running down her thighs with that other liquid that
had come from inside her. She shrieked.
 Her father turned from Atina. "Arim?"
 "I'm bleeding," she shouted, hysterically, "I'm bleeding from inside!"
 "Go to the physician." All anger had left his voice. He removed the black
overcoat he was wearing, revealing the red-and-gold uniform underneath. He
wrapped it around her, and said, more tender than she had ever remembered
his voice being before or since, "You'll be all right."
 But she still couldn't stop crying as she hurried through the halls and
down the stairs, the stones cold under her bare feet.
 She had been all right, of course, and the physician had explained to
her, with great care and great sympathy, exactly what the blood was. He
gave her some medicine that would stop the "inevitable result of
intercourse" from happening, and had then sent her on her way with
instructions to wash herself thoroughly and to pray for the forgiveness of
Nelemi; since she was a boy in the eyes of the Empire, she had just
committed a deadly sin, she had just committed a homosexual act.

 Laying on her back in her bed, her spurs dug deep into her mattress,
DePinder felt an overwhelming sadness replace the lust and sexual energy
that had filled her. One hand still played idelly with her pussy, but she
had once again allowed herself to reply too much surrounding her one
sexual encounter with a real, life human being. She didn't want to think
about how her father had beaten him half to death, nor did she want to
remember how she had to testify at his trail, nor how she, in order to
cleanse her soul in the eyes of Nelemi, had to serve as his executioner.
She had had sex once in her life, and if she was ever to have sex again,
she would have to take to raping prisoners on the battlefield and in the
stockade. This was not behavior worthy of an Imperial officer, and she
would never lower herself to that. Nor would she ever send another to
their deaths for having sex with her, as much as she needed and wanted it.
She had lived almost 12 years with just her fingers to pleasure her, and
she could live 50 more. Hopefully, Neyave would see fit to make her a
woman of low standing in her next life, a woman who wouldn't have to worry
about maintaining a family legacy, but one who could be taken to the
castle of a wealthy and handsome Lieutenant of the Lance, where she could
make love and raise his children, and never have to worry about the
outside world. The orgasmic afterglow fading fast, DePinder found herself
on the verge of tears. As she sat up, her spurs torn further into the
mattress. A small gout of feathers flew forth.
 "You're pathetic," she growled to herself. "You need to fucking control
yourself, or you'll be requisitioning a new mattress once a week."
 She swung her feet off the bed, feeling sad and angry all at once. She
needed to get to the tavern in a big way, for the camaraderie and to drink
herself into a stupor.

 As DePinder surveyed her ruined bed and began to undress, Corbayne walked
purposefully into the now-empty conference room. Someone had cast a
magical spell in here moments before they had all left, and he had to know
who did it and what he or she had cast.
 Corbayne had changed into his civilian clothes, as ordered. They were in
diametric opposition to the solid blacks of his uniform; the trousers were
bright green, the shirt made of an elven cloth that contained wild swirls
of orange, green, and purple, and the boots were of varnished cowhide,
white with black spots. Of course, he only owned a cloak of uniform style,
so most of the village would not receive the benefit of his amazing
fashion statement as he went to the tavern.
 As he traced mystical symbols in the air before him, with the measured
precision of an Academy-trained Warwizard, a small voice in the back his
mind made the amusing observation that if a recent transfer to the 234th
Lance happened to walk by just now, he would probably try to arrest
Corbayne for mocking an officer.
 But the magical spell took effect, and he felt the odd tingle in his eyes
as they adjusted to look into the magical spectrum. He scanned the room
and saw nothing. He looked at his own hands and the air in front of
him--he couldn't even see the effects of the energies he had just
harnessed and absorbed into his body.
 "Shit," he hissed. Whoever had cast that spell--and he knew it had to be
one of three officers--was smart enough to have returned to the room to
create a scrambling field in the area; magic still worked just fine, but
its after-trace could not be detected because the energies were constantly
being manipulated. He turned and walked rapidly from the room, cursing
continually under his breath. One out of three officers had cast a spell
at either he or DePinder. He had no idea for what purpose, but he couldn't
think it had been a good one, and he couldn't raise the issue because it
would calling into question the honor and dedication of an Imperial,
something not even the Emperor himself could do without solid evidence...
unless he wanted his head detached from his shoulders.
 One way or another, Corbayne would have to keep a close eye on Lieutenant
Torgonon, Observer Etak, and that curly-haired boot-licker whose name he
never could remember. One of them was a threat of a nature he could not
discern, and he would not allow Captain DePinder to be brought low from
the shadows.
 "Well," he muttered, swinging the cloak over his shoulders, "at least
whatever the spell was, it failed to take effect."

 In her chambers, DePinder lay on the floor. Lust had overtaken her again,
and she shuddered as her fingers dug deeply into her, her hips thrusting
up to meet her touch, her bent knees pointing outward and her thighs wide
in welcome of her imaginary lover. Her uniform was laid out neatly for the
page to come fetch, but civilian clothes were strewn on the floor and hung
haphazardly from her army trunk. "Gods" she hissed, between clenched
teeth, eight fingers shoving roughly into her. "I thought only beasts went
into heat in the spring... oh, fuck... oh Gods... oh..."

--To Be Continued...