by Loki Renard
“When are you going to realize that I have no intention of being torn apart?” Madeline stamped her foot in frustration. “It seems to me, no matter how many times I prove myself to you, you insist on seeing me as some helpless wretch. A woman is good for more than bedding, Gregory, but it seems to be your belief that I should be installed as a permanent fixture in your bedchamber.”
Gregory stepped forward, grabbed her by both arms, and drew her into a deep, passionate kiss. “That is not a bad idea, princess,” he purred against her lips. “Perhaps if I wear you out here and now, you will find some measure of obedience and forget this mad idea of joining a war.”
Thrilled at his strength, Madeline made no objection. His lips, tongue, and hands ran all over her body, tearing the dress into shreds that fell to the floor and left her naked before him. His own clothing was discarded with a quickness. She barely noticed it as it fell, for she was more than occupied with caresses that turned to slaps against her bare cheeks as he held her body against his, cupping her bottom as his cock pressed against her belly, leaving small traces of dampness against her skin.
With an animal growl he picked her up and laid her down on the bed, covering her body with his own. His thighs parted hers, making her legs spread wide so that the most vulnerable part of her was exposed to the thick length of his cock as he plundered her mouth, leaving her in no doubt as to who was master of the bedchamber.
“I will take you twice tonight, Madeline,” he promised. “First I will part the petals of your nether flower and taste the nectar that lies deep within, and then I will take you a second time so you will know who you belong to. These are the wages of your disobedience.”
Madeline looked into his scintillating blue eyes and bit his lower lips gently. “I like what I am paid,” she said archly.
“Is that so?” He lowered his hips and pressed the length of his cock against her pussy, letting her feel how large it was. “We will see if your tongue remains so sharp when I am deep inside you.”
With that he drew back, placing the head of himself at the entrance of her body. Madeline was soaked, excited not only by the ardor of the man she now called husband, but by the rebellion she so enjoyed.
She let out a little gasp as he began to slowly sink himself inside her, the intrusion gentle at first but growing more insistent as he pressed deeper, opening her in ways she had never been opened before. Madeline clung to his shoulders as he pierced the veil inside her, all traces of that virginal mark giving way before the might of his flesh. In spite of his rough words, he took tender care of her that first time, moving his hips ever so slowly as she became accustomed to the feeling of a man inside her.
“Madeline,” he murmured against her mouth. “You must know something.”
She looked up into his eyes and saw that he was looking at her with more emotion than she had previously given him credit for.
“I love you,” he said. “You are mine and I will protect you with everything I am. Understand that.” He emphasized the words by sliding as far inside her as he could go, until his hips were pressed against hers and they were locked together in an embrace of the flesh that left them as one.
“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice coming in a breathy moan. “I love you as I love life, but I will never be what you want.”
“I want you,” he said as his hips began to move in a slow pumping motion, sliding his flesh in and out of her most tender place. “I know what you are, Madeline, and I would not change it for all the world.”
She felt the truth of his words in the thrust of his body as he began making sweet, tender love to her. There was nothing rushed in the way he took her; he seemed to enjoy teasing her by withdrawing from her clenching quim before sliding back inside. Her juices coated him in abundance, making his cock gleam in the moonlight as he filled her over and over, sometimes pulling out and running the head of himself over the hard nub of her clit until she moaned and begged for him to take her again.
“Do you like this, sweet princess?”
“Like is not the word,” Madeline moaned as she lay on her side, her hips clamped in his hand as he slowly pushed himself between her nether lips. “This is what heaven must feel like… this is what the angels sing of…”
He smiled at her and let his hand drift over the curve of her hip to pat her bottom. “And we are not done yet this night. I have one last place to make my own.”
Impaled on his cock, Madeline managed a weak objection, but it was no use. He thrust himself inside her a few more times then pulled himself out and bade her assume the position she had taken the last time he plundered her bottom with his fingers.
On her knees with her cheeks in her hands, spreading herself for her husband, Madeline thought his accusations of disobedience most ridiculous. How could he claim that she did not obey him when at a word she took such a position, spreading herself for his pleasure? Her pussy was aching slightly, but her clit was tingling with excitement and when he thrust his cock into her clenching cunt and then used her juices to ease the passage of his finger into her bottom, she almost came on the spot.
“You are a different maid in the bedroom,” he said as if catching her thought. “If only you were always so compliant as you are when you have my cock inside you.” He slapped her bottom and thrust deeper and harder, his finger probing the depths of her bottom as he made free with her freshly deflowered pussy.
Gasping and moaning, Madeline thought she would surely climax, but it was not to be. Gregory pulled out of both her bottom and her cunt and looked down at her for a long moment. “Your quim was always so pretty,” he said, slapping her bottom, “but it is even prettier now that it pouts for me.” With that, he pressed the head of his cock against her bottom hole and began a new exploration. It was much tighter back there and Madeline whimpered as he made a slow but insistent entry.
“Relax yourself,” he said, smoothing his hand over her lower back and patting her bottom.
“Surely this is not what most men do with their wives on the night of their deflowering,” Madeline complained, squirming as she felt the heat of his cock spreading through her innards.
“No, but you are not most wives, are you, Madeline? You are a princess who insists on riding into battle. You are a little hellion who requires constant watch so she does not attempt to ride off and fight a king.”
He slid an inch deeper, making her squeak and wriggle. Then he drew back and began thrusting inside her bottom with just an inch or two of his cock. The sensation was not entirely unpleasant, neither was it pleasant. She was filled and her pussy was clenching of its own accord, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was in her bottom because she had displeased him. It was a punishment of sorts, a punishment that allowed him to bury himself in the hottest, tightest hole she had and avail himself of a part of her body she had never considered to be a vessel for sex.
Gregory reached over to the nightstand and picked up a small vessel. She wondered what he was doing, until she felt oil being poured down the crevice of her buttocks, making the passage of his cock that much smoother and deeper.
“Oh, Madeline,” he groaned as he slid all the way inside her bottom. “You feel like liquid fire. This is where I will spill my seed. I can feel it…” His words trailed off into a feral growl, which was accompanied by a throbbing deep inside Madeline’s innards. True to his word, Gregory was coming, not in her sweet pussy, but in the depths of her bottom.
He came and withdrew, his cock pulsing the last of his seed across her bottom. She made a whine of complaint because she was not yet satisfied and for her troubles earned a good hard slapping across her cheeks, which served to massage his emissions into her skin and leave it both red and shining.
“What have I done to earn this?” she cried plaintively as he continued spanking her, letting his palm occasionally drift between her spread thighs to pet the puffy lips of her quim. Caught between pleasure and pain with his cum dripping from her bottom hole, Madeline
could not have ever fathomed her wedding night being so wanton or depraved. Gregory was truly proving his mastery of her body, for she should have been outraged but all she really wanted was to reach the climax that had been lingering about her clit from the moment they said their vows.
“What have you done?” He let out a dark laugh. “Do you really need ask?” He thrust his fingers inside her wet pussy. “Truly, I should send you to bed without an orgasm, my sweet wife, so you might learn that there are consequences for that which you do outside the bedchamber.”
“If you will not allow me to cum for wanting to save my kingdom, then you may as well lock me in a chastity belt and throw away the key, for I will never stop fighting, never!” Madeline’s statement was all the braver for the fact that he very well could have done such a thing and left her with a throbbing clit and a wet quim all night long.
Fortunately for her, Gregory was not so cruel. He began thrusting inside her pussy, pulling out and slapping her lips lightly before thrusting back in. It was a spanking to be sure, but it was one that soon had her bucking across the bed and crying out in the grips of an orgasm that ripped through her body and left her helpless in his arms.
* * *
The next thing Madeline knew, the sun was rising on their naked bodies and a new day was beginning, a day in which she was to be given the honor of being by her husband’s side as he went to battle. She ached between her thighs, and her bottom was tender as she performed her morning ablutions, but Gregory’s kisses and warm embrace soon made those minor complaints fade away.
They were brushing their horses together when word came, brought by a courier who looked flustered and harried from his task. “Are there any loyal to Griffon Hold here?”
“We are,” Gregory replied. “What news have you?”
“All able-bodied men must report to Griffon Hold,” the courier announced. “The Dark King has attacked.”
The next minutes and hours passed in a blur for Madeline. She and Gregory were quickly mounted and headed back toward her home. Nosewise and Holdfast were left behind at the convent to coalesce. Their services would not be needed, for there would be no time for battles along the way; any attackers would have to follow them to Griffon Hold or to hell.
As they drew closer to their destination, it was obvious even at great distances that things had not gone well for those close to the fighting. Villages were razed to the ground, crops trampled and burned vindictively. Wherever the Dark King’s forces had passed, they had left death and destruction in their wake.
“Madeline,” Gregory said, his voice hoarse as they came to a halt at the final bridge, which led to the heart of the kingdom. “This is your last chance. Once we cross this bridge, there will be no turning back. You will find yourself in the thick of battle. You will see sights that may never be unseen. I beg you to turn back now.”
She was solemn as she gave her reply. “I cannot. I will not.”
He gave her a sorrowful look, then nodded and spurred Hexmark onwards. Melyngar and Madeline followed faithfully in their wake.
Chapter Seven
Not an hour later, Madeline began to realize the full horror of what had taken place in their absence. The Dark King’s blood-red banners fluttered from piles of rubble and in the distance she could see the castle town burning, great black billowing plumes of smoke obscuring Griffon Hold. A figure came racing toward them on a charging pony. It turned out to be a squire, smeared with dirt and blood and nursing an injury to his arm.
He drew to a halt before Madeline and Gregory and tumbled from his mount with exhaustion. Madeline hurried to his side and began cleaning the wound and applying a poultice whilst Gregory did his best to get some water and wine down the young man’s throat. It took several minutes for the squire to regain his senses and find his tongue. The first words out of his mouth destroyed her world.
“King Leonard is slain,” the squire panted. “The kingdom is lost.”
The news hit Madeline like a mountain falling atop her with weight so crushing it pushed all the air from her body and made the whole world seem hollow. She had never considered the possibility of her father dying in battle. He had always seemed invincible, unkillable, a man for all ages. And yet he was gone.
“How many knights are left?” Gregory asked the question whilst she stood numb, her gaze on the ground.
“Of thirty-three, only twelve still stand. Thirteen, including yourself.”
“Thirteen,” Gregory said. “And how many men remain in the Dark King’s forces?”
“At least a hundred. By reckoning, there were closer to five hundred in the beginning.”
“Thirteen men to slay a hundred. The odds are not in our favor.”
“The knights are returning to their homes,” the squire continued. “They will prepare to move to other kingdoms taking what peasants will go with them. The kingdom is lost.”
“No, it isn’t.” Madeline spoke grimly, her voice like ice.
Gregory draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I am sorry,” he murmured against her ear as she held herself stiff. “This is the very worst of news.”
Madeline drew away. “It is not lost,” she insisted. “It is mine.”
“Madeline…” Gregory looked at her with pitying eyes. “There is little left…”
“There is the land and the people. A king is dead. My father would not have wanted the kingdom to crumble upon his passing. He would have wanted his banner to be taken up. He would have wanted his death avenged.” Her voice trembled with emotion. “This talk of abandoning the kingdom is pure cowardice. I will not stand for it whilst I still draw breath. Go, boy,” she said to the squire. “Gather the knights and tell them we will meet once more in the great hall.”
“We cannot return to the castle proper,” Gregory objected. “The town is burning.”
“Put the fires out and send the word. We will regroup in my family’s ancestral seat—nobles, peasants, knights alike.”
The squire looked at Sir Gregory for some kind of direction. The glance incensed Madeline.
“Understand me,” she said, her voice becoming shrill. “My father had no sons, my mother and sister have fled. I am the last of the line. Whilst I draw breath, the kingdom is mine. I am queen and I will be obeyed!”
“Gather the knights,” Sir Gregory told the squire. “If he acts as he has acted in the past, then the Dark King has not seen fit to occupy the castle, so we will reclaim it and the town. Bring all craftsman, warriors, and peasants in need of protection. We will make our final stand at castle peak.”
The squire bowed and hastened to obey. Madeline watched him scurry away with a frown on her face. “He only obeyed because you gave the order.”
“Madeline, hush. Now is not the time for delusions of grandeur.”
“Delusions?” Madeline drew herself up tall. It had little effect on Sir Gregory. “I carry the blood of the king. The covenant you made with him is transferred to me. You know this.”
“You were not raised to lead an army, you were not raised to fight a war. Let those of us who have dedicated our lives to the art of combat make the decisions now.” He pulled her close and wrapped his arms about her. “Let yourself grieve, Madeline. You have suffered great loss.”
“I will grieve when the Dark King is dead,” she muttered into his chest. “But I will not allow so much as a tear to fall until he is vanquished.”
“You have been brave enough, Madeline,” Gregory said, stroking her back. “Now is the time for you to be protected. Your idea to gather the knights and the citizenry was a good one, but please, for once, let those who have trained all their lives for the battle ahead take charge.”
“Your kind already had their chance,” Madeline replied. “Now a king is dead, his knights decimated. I will not stand here and talk any longer.”
She took her mount in one smooth leap and spurred the mare into a gallop before Gregory could respond. There was no longer any point in being caref
ul. The Dark King’s forces had withdrawn to the cover of the forest once more, taking to the shadows like the scuttling insects they were. Madeline and Sir Gregory rode hard and fast toward the castle town, joined at various junctures by knights, squires, and townsfolk who had heard the message that traveled at the speed of a gallop.
They came in dribs and drabs, taking the high road, bold in the light of day. At the head of the swelling ranks was Madeline closely followed by Sir Gregory.
The fires of the castle town were already dying down when the party arrived. Madeline dismounted at the outer gate and made her way to help those who were injured. Several others followed suit and before long there was a steady stream of aid coming to those who had survived the Dark King’s raid. Several of the brawnier men undertook the grim task of moving those who had not been so fortunate to a resting place outside the castle walls.
Tending the wounded, securing what remained of the food supplies, restoring barriers and walls made for a busy day that culminated only when Madeline was near faint with exhaustion.
“Come,” Gregory said, putting his hand on her arm. “It is time to rest.”
“I will not rest until…”
“You will rest and you will do it now. Come.”
She could not resist him, for she could barely stand anymore. Every muscle in her body was weak, every step a kind of torture. She saw her exhaustion mirrored on the faces of those around her. There was little left to lose, but those who had gathered were prepared to give their very lives for the kingdom. She would not let them down.
Gregory took her to the knight’s tower, where they discovered that his chamber, like the others, had been ransacked. His fine furniture had been smashed and the bed had been set alight. In spite of that they made a passable nest out of furs and blankets and curled up in one another’s arms. Madeline had never noticed how much her father had animated the castle and its surrounds when he was alive, but she felt his loss keenly that night. The home she had always known felt empty and odd, a shadow of the place it had once been. Sleep evaded her for a long time as she lay in Gregory’s arms trying to understand how in a few short days, all she had ever known had been laid to waste.