Contents
Copyright
Sneak Peek
1. Dreams
2. Deciphering
3. Reality
Keep Reading
Author
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Shared by the Warriors
(A Violation Historical Virginity Mythology Erotica Short)
Ravage and Pillaged Menage
Copyright © 2015 by Satine LaFleur
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book contains explicit material of a sexual nature and is intended for mature audiences only.
PREVIEW
He grunted wildly while I bounced on top of him, my tits following suit, my whole body moving and aching and sliding around while my pleasure increased tenfold. I let him devour me, run his sweaty hands all along what was once a pure and untouched body, taking in his sweat and dirt as I plundered him and felt every inch of my pussy squeeze around his thunderous cock.
I fought the vision desperately, trying as best I could to see the surroundings, the people, anything that would give me a hint as to when and where this was occurring, but my physical form was feeling all of the pleasure I saw before me. Before I knew it I was whimpering, quaking on top of him as he massaged my center with his free hand, my orgasm rolling through me and causing my entire body to collapse on top of his.
One of the others came up behind me, grabbed me by the hair and mumbled something about how he was next, but I was already waking up yet again. This time my body was covered in sweat and my hand had mysteriously found itself between my thighs, covered in a wetness I'd never felt before.
I sighed as my feet pittered against the damp floor, holding my shawl around myself to shield my exposed body from the night wind. It was always inconvenient to be called into the kingdom, especially the castle, at such a late hour, but that was always a hazard of my line of work.
Those with the most to lose were always the most panicked and worried when it came to even the smallest things, and the king was no different. He'd called upon me, had me ushered into his lands, to be his own personal seer because he was tired of having to rely on messengers to get answers delivered. When he had questions, had worries, he wanted them answered immediately.
If it was the dead of night and I was finally enjoying a peaceful sleep it didn't matter, immediately meant immediately.
It wasn't a bad life, though. I was given the most beautiful living arrangements just outside of the kingdom--as I preferred it, the laughing and chanting of village crowds always broke my concentration--and afforded all the luxuries I could've wanted. I didn't ask for much, I didn't need jewel encrusted outfits or gold trimmings on anything, but it was quite worth the late night interruptions to be given the wardrobe and silk curtains that were strewn all across my home.
I'd requested the smallest of places, as I didn't want to put anyone out and cozy was always more important to me than showing off. Not to mention I knew all too well what happened to those who took things for granted, and I never wanted to be one of those unfortunate stories that bards sung about in taverns as a warning tale.
All I needed was a place to lay my head, a place to make my food, and a table to divine at--all of which comfortably fit in one room. If the king wasn't requesting my presence I was allowed to use my gifts from the gods on whoever traveled far and wide to reap them, and I always made it a point to do so because it helped keep me alert. Sharp. Prepared.
I never wanted to lose my gifts, never wanted to take them for granted. Those of us with our special connection were never told why we had it, what made us so worthy, but I could only imagine that in order to keep them I had to make it a point to show they weren't a waste on me.
My entire life revolved around it, perhaps that was why I was the one traveling through the grass in the middle of night instead of any other seer. I was called before the king, hand picked as his personal diviner, because word of my dedication spread far and wide enough that it fell upon his ears... or at least, the ears of someone close enough to him for it to matter.
By the time I finally made it back to my beloved home, cozy and warm just as I'd left it, I could feel my body aching. I rubbed my legs, willing them to just give me a few moments of peace without the reminder of what we'd just been through so I could fall into the deepest sleep imaginable. After all, I'd been awake for several days straight already trying to put together the strange readings I was receiving through my most recent... sacrifices.
Using entrails to try and discern the workings of the world, of the gods, wasn't my favorite way to go about things, but it was usually a reliable fall back when I needed an extra push in the right direction. For some reason my own personal readings had been completely off, and I couldn't figure out one means of deciphering what it all meant. It was frustrating, of course, but as I furrowed my brows and sighed to myself over the failed musings I found myself slightly driven by it.
After all, it'd been ages since I'd been faced with a puzzle that wasn't a simple and trivial royal task. It was almost exhilarating to have something to worry about other than the royal drapery.
"Gods, just let me find some undisturbed sleep," I mumbled to myself, clearing off my bed and planting my body square in the middle. I could've been laying on top of a cauldron or a knife and I probably wouldn't have moved an inch to toss it aside, that was how tired I was.
It was mere moments before my body caved into the delightful bliss of nothingness--which is what most of my nights were, save for the few and far between where I received visions in the form of dreams. It wasn't often that my gifts presented themselves in this way, but unfortunately tonight happened to be one of the few exceptions.
I found myself straddling another human being, though he looked... far different than anything I typically interacted with. It was hard to keep myself distinguished, to keep sense between the reality and the fantasy of it, but he was a barbarian of sorts--a warrior, from what I could tell was left of his armor. He was covered in dirt, half naked, and...
Everything else rolled into the back of my mind as phantom bliss took its place. I'd never felt the touch of a man before--peasant, royalty, barbarian, warrior, any of the above--because I was far too busy concentrating on my gifts. I was a vessel, something used to communicate from Olympus to everyone else, I couldn't just ignore that to get the physical pleasures that people with less obligations caved into.
As my body rocked back and forth on top of his, his hands gripping tightly at my hips, every part of me (both in fantasy and reality) felt the pleasure of our union. I moaned loudly as I took all of his eager cock inside my wet cunt, desperate to feel him ravaging me, to ravage him first, to get mine no matter the cost. It was so different, so unlike me, yet every movement I made on top of him was exactly what I wanted. I was calculated, knowledgeable, as if I'd done it so many times before.
While one of his rough hands lifted to grab and knead at my tits roughly I finally not
iced it, the crowd behind us, the other warriors licking their lips as if they were waiting for their turn... their turn with me. I rode his stiff dick right there, his body pressed into the grass, as a group of onlookers watched and became aroused themselves by our carnal movements.
He grunted wildly while I bounced on top of him, my tits following suit, my whole body moving and aching and sliding around while my pleasure increased tenfold. I let him devour me, run his sweaty hands all along what was once a pure and untouched body, taking in his sweat and dirt as I plundered him and felt every inch of my pussy squeeze around his thunderous cock.
I fought the vision desperately, trying as best I could to see the surroundings, the people, anything that would give me a hint as to when and where this was occurring, but my physical form was feeling all of the pleasure I saw before me. Before I knew it I was whimpering, quaking on top of him as he massaged my center with his free hand, my orgasm rolling through me and causing my entire body to collapse on top of his.
One of the others came up behind me, grabbed me by the hair and mumbled something about how he was next, but I was already waking up yet again. This time my body was covered in sweat and my hand had mysteriously found itself between my thighs, covered in a wetness I'd never felt before.
When I woke again--finally after getting a good nights sleep that wasn't interrupted by a summons or a vision--I found myself engulfed by the puzzling dream I'd had. It felt just like any prophetic vision I'd experienced before, only this time I was the center of it, and I felt things far more than I ever had. The sun was beaming down on my skin, I felt the grass beneath my shins, I felt every touch he gave me... the stranger beneath my writhing body.
A part of me had hoped I was just confused, thinking perhaps for once I had a normal dream like everyone else had the pleasure of experiencing, but deep down I knew the truth... and unlike some other seers I'd met first hand, my dreams were always very straight forward. There wasn't any subtle hint, nothing to figure out, no clue to unravel: what I saw was what would be.
The question was, when would it be? And who were the men that were ravaging (or that I was ravaging, it was hard to tell who was taking advantage of who, given the circumstances). I tried to put that at the front of my mind and forget everything else, like the fact that I'd apparently not only given away my virginity, but I was becoming a common whore in pleasing an entire group of bandits in one sitting.
Bandits, warriors, barbarians... it was all becoming a bit of a blur the more I tried to focus on it. I rubbed the side of my head hopelessly, willing the images to appear in my mind again as clear as they had the night before, but they ran away as quickly as they came to me.
Luckily the king had called me in the night before (which, as it turned out, wasn't as much of a burden as it'd seemed when I was drudging through the dark and cold night to approach the castle with my eyes heavy as a bag of sand) so the chances of him wanting to consult with me again today were very slim at best. I'd satiated his need for comfort, for validation, which would ultimately give me more time to focus on myself.
I hung a sign outside of my humble abode warning anyone who was interested in a reading or seeing me otherwise that I was preoccupied on personal matters, and set off to try and decipher anything I could about who the people in my vision were, or when I would be coming in contact with them.
After hours reading things from birds, to entrails, to leaves, to pebbles, to lights and anything in between, I'd figured out all I could about the wanderers in my mind. Were they dangerous? Yes, absolutely. Should I be afraid? Yes, is the inclination. Did I have time to prepare? No. Could I stop them? No. Could I leave? No.
I asked a million different ways, in every possible phrasing I could imagine or muster, but everything I tried ended up with the same conclusion: if I attempted to flee not only would I be in danger, but others would end up dead because of my actions as well. Innocents, villagers, anyone they could find to pay for not having what they came for... whoever they were. Enemies of the kingdom was all I gathered for sure, and I being one of the most well known ambassadors and assets of it found myself in a prime position for ransom. Or kidnapping?
I could only hope it was one of those, as the other options were far more extreme and had dire endings and consequences.
A part of me considered running anyway, despite knowing the consequences; perhaps I could beat the odds, perhaps my powers weren't truly as infallible as I'd thought they were for so many years. Maybe no one would get hurt--I would even be free, disguise myself, start a life anew despite the fact that this was the only one I'd ever known.
It sounded great, maybe even beautiful, but perhaps that was because I knew deep down I'd never go through with it. As much as I wanted my gifts to be a sham right then, as much as I wanted to believe that perhaps I was wrong and every sign I'd read had been interpreted the absolute wrong way, I knew the risk I'd be taking was one I couldn't be responsible for.
It wasn't just my life on the line, it was bigger than I, and it was meant to happen no matter what I said or did. It was a bit cruel, the irony that the only vision or connection to my gift I'd ever gotten for myself had been one of travesty that I had no way to avoid, but that didn't surprise me in the least. Gods were never quite fair, and their sense of humor did frequently leave something to be desired.
I'd decided, then, to resign myself to the reality that sooner rather than later they'd come for me... whoever they were.
Throughout the next several days I continued to refuse to see anyone, not wanting them to get caught in the line of fire in case these animals were more sloppy than your average kidnapper. At least I could minimize the amount of people affected by whatever tragedy were to happen to myself, and myself alone.
The thought of leaving the king some kind of note or explanation crossed my mind, but I knew deep down this was a message to him personally. It was about me being such an asset, so widely known, which was partially my own fault for helping more than just the royalty when it came to my gifts. I tried to help everyone, which might've just been my downfall.
Never the less, since it was an attack on him specifically, it only made sense that they'd leave some sort of note themselves. Something to let him know they were they, they had me, and hopefully a list of demands--he was far too needy and jittery to ignore such an affront.
Three days passed as I made myself comfortable, read, cooked, and packed my things up nice and orderly so they'd be waiting for me when I hopefully returned home. Three long days, and then they finally came. They were smart enough to use the cover of night and only send a handful of men in despite my rather far proximity from the kingdom, in case I was prepared, or I made a louder fuss than they'd been ready for.
"It's about time," I muttered as they shuffled outside of my tent, sitting in my favorite chair.
One of them pulled back the curtain and glanced at me, thinking I'd set up a trap of some sort. If he walked in he'd be hit with a rain of arrows, or a ball of fire, or something.
Why wasn't I running? Shrieking? Reaching for the nearest weapon? Obviously I had to have some sort of plan, it made no sense to them.
"...You are aware that I'm a seer, yes? I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't know you were coming before you got here. Are you ready, then? It's been a long day."
The men looked between themselves, then at me, several times before one of them finally came forward to apprehend me and bind my wrists together. While it looked like a trap, felt like a trap, seemed so much like one, they didn't have much choice but to come for the prize they'd gone through the trouble of hunting down.
"This better not be a game to you, witch," one of them said, and I rolled my eyes to myself.
Witch.
These 'men' were far more barbaric than I'd realized, yet somehow I'd find myself in the thralls of passion on top of one? Perhaps my visions were off.
The journey from my home to theirs (or what they called a home, I couldn't imagine it was feasibly sui
table for even the lowest of life forms) was one of the most degrading experiences of my entire life.
I was chained with the cargo, kept in shackles, and only visited when it was time to throw me foot--always just out of my reach, always half eaten, so I'd struggle on my hands and knees praying for the boat to sway and have it roll in my direction. It wasn't until then, until I gnawed on the half-eaten scraps I was afforded, that they'd leave me to go up deck and continue the disrespect from there.
Their journey wasn't just for me, they'd scavenged supplies and several more warriors for their make-shift excuse for an army while they were in the area, but most of the conversation I could eavesdrop on from my position involved someone or other discussing me as the prize of the mission. They were vile and disturbing, talking about what they wanted to do to me, how they wanted to do it, how when they were done they'd turn me over and tease me until I begged for more.
I wanted to scoff, to laugh, to roll my eyes at how absurd the idea was... but I'd already seen the vision for myself, and they weren't that far off from the truth. Someway, somehow, I end up seduced by them and the pleasures of the flesh. Perhaps the madness sets in after so long? I could find peace with that, if it were the case. It was less embarrassing than the thought of me actually wanting them.
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