2009-12-09, 05:07 AM
Take this!
"I'm sorry," was the last thing I heard her say before she was on top of me. Her strong arms rushed forward and wrapped around my arms and gripped me tight, the pressure so immense I was barely able to keep a grip on my sword. As she pressed herself against me, I could feel her breasts pressing against my chest, and when I looked down I could see them, the soft luscious mounds that were just barely hanging inside of her robe.
With one swift movement, she arched her powerful legs and back, and in one motion was flipping me over her, slamming me to the ground with a thunderous clud. I let go of my sword from the initial shock, and the rest of my body started to go numb from the shellshock. I tilted my head as best as I could, and all I could see was her lovely form dashing ahead into the fray of battle. Countless men tried to stop her, slashing and hammering at her with maces and axes, poles and spears, but with each attack she parried and volleyed, returning the attack back to the attacker two fold.
The loose flowing garment she wore was all too flattering. The white satin that draped over her chest danced and swayed with every move she maked, accenuating the swaying of her tender breasts as she flirted to and fro, her silver daggers slashing away at my comrades. I could make out faintly the glint of her blades as they slashed through the jugular vein of Isaac, my commander, and I could see him fall to the ground with a look of utter shock in his eyes.
Slowly I could feel my body regaining its nerve, but my heart had already been broken by her beauty. I stood up to watch her, her long hair drapping down her back and slapping her hind quarters every time she plunged her dagger into the chest of one of my mates. She was almost fatally wounded by Mark when he attacked her from the flank, but this woman was more than aware of his presence, but was not able to predict the angle of his attack. As his spear ran forward, it caught hold of her garment and tore it off of her, revealing a small brassiere underneath made of spun copper. In surprise he was caught off guard to see this terrific swordswoman wearing such a scantilous garment, and in that moment of hesitation, his heart was run through by those feared blades of hers, the Zephyr.
I couldn't myself stop but stare at her voluptuous figure after her robe was torn from her. The long green sash she wore fluttered in the breeze, and her long skirt gently kissed her slender, muscled thighs. I was struck with awe at the scene I saw before me. This marvelous woman, whose name I had not known, was able to eliminate half of the entire army, and she did it so gracefully that not a single hair on her head was out of place. I stood there, dumbfounded.
Somehow she sensed that I was still alive, and slowly she walked towards me. I saw the daggers blades, dripping with the blood of my fallen brethren, hanging loosely, but still firmly, in her tender hands. She took her time walking over to me, and I was paralyzed with fear. Slowly she came closer to me, and with each step I felt a fear run down my spine. "Is she going to kill me?" I thought to myself. "Is this how I am going to die?"
As she came to stand before me, she looked at me, inspecting me up and down, from head to toe. It was then that I was able to fully see her face and all its splendor. Her eyes shone out like the most brilliant of emerald, and her nose was small and incredibly cute. Her cheeks were stained by the blood of my allies, but underneath the blood stains I could make out the rosy blush to them.
"What's your name soldier?" she asked me suddenly. I was taken aback at her starkness.
"M-m-my n-n-n-name?" I responded weakly. I could feel my feet begin to tremble and my hands start to sweat.
"Yes, I asked you your name. Where I am from that's the custom, to give someone your name when they're asked it." The tone of her voice was harsh and cruel, like she was speaking with the intent to attack my sanity.
"M-my name is..." I stammered at this point. What should I do? If I gave her my name, would she then proceed to kill me afterwards? But who in this day and age asks someone their name before they slay them in cold blood? I was nervous, and I could feel the sweat start to trickle down my face.
"I asked you your name soldier. If you do not give me your name, then I'll have to take your li--"
"MY NAME IS PETER, MY NAME IS PETER!" I interrupted. Her eyes shrunk, and I could see the fire in them grow intense. Quickly I pulled my hands over my mouth in shame, then bowed deeply. "I'm sorry, please, forgive me, I did not mean to interupt you!"
At that, all I could hear was her billowing laughter. I didn't dare to raise my head, staring firmly at her feet. Her nails, I noted, were painted a deep shade of turqouise. They looked delicate, even despite her sandals being covered with the dirt and blood of my friends.
Suddenly I felt her hands grasp at the back of my neck and harshly my head was pulled upwards. The next moment her lips were pressed against my own, and I could feel how tender and juicy they were. The feel of her mouth on my own attacked my senses, and all I could feel was a deep, powerful desire for her at that moment, right then and there on the blood-stained battlefield. Her tongue danced and slashed about inside my mouth as we continued to kiss passionately.
With that my mind went blank, and I began to fall victim to my humanly impulses. I reached out with my hand at her breast, and felt the softness for myself. They were tender and firm, but with a strange bounce to them that drove my heart wild. I played and toyed with them for a moment, and I could hear her sighs of pleasure inside of my mouth, and I knew she had a desire for me as strong as mine for her.
The next instant I could feel the clasp on my belt loosening, and I could see her hands wildly at work undoing the fastens for my leggings. I seized the opportunity and tugged at her sash, and I saw as the remainder of her robe fell down to the ground. I was greeted by the sight of her linen undergarment, which sent a powerful force raging through my nethers. After that I felt a strong and painful sting in my chest.
I looked down and I saw her arm at my heart, and in her hand was one of her blades. In my lustful fervor I failed to notice as she reached around to her sheath and retracted a smaller, longer, thinner third blade and ran me through with it. I let out a small sigh, as the crimson trail of blood started to ooze out from my wound.
As I fell to the ground, I reached upwards pleadingly for her. She smiled at me and put away the blade, then reached down and picked up her two daggers. Before raising herself back to a standing position, she leaned over and whispered into my ear.
"Thank you for being such a weak man." With that, my vision, my hearing, my sense of self, all started to fade away into the darkness. The last sight I saw was the tip of her long cinnamon colored hair drafting behind her as she walked away from the battlefield. Single-handedly she had defeated an entire army of combatants,and she did so with beauty and grace.
With one swift movement, she arched her powerful legs and back, and in one motion was flipping me over her, slamming me to the ground with a thunderous clud. I let go of my sword from the initial shock, and the rest of my body started to go numb from the shellshock. I tilted my head as best as I could, and all I could see was her lovely form dashing ahead into the fray of battle. Countless men tried to stop her, slashing and hammering at her with maces and axes, poles and spears, but with each attack she parried and volleyed, returning the attack back to the attacker two fold.
The loose flowing garment she wore was all too flattering. The white satin that draped over her chest danced and swayed with every move she maked, accenuating the swaying of her tender breasts as she flirted to and fro, her silver daggers slashing away at my comrades. I could make out faintly the glint of her blades as they slashed through the jugular vein of Isaac, my commander, and I could see him fall to the ground with a look of utter shock in his eyes.
Slowly I could feel my body regaining its nerve, but my heart had already been broken by her beauty. I stood up to watch her, her long hair drapping down her back and slapping her hind quarters every time she plunged her dagger into the chest of one of my mates. She was almost fatally wounded by Mark when he attacked her from the flank, but this woman was more than aware of his presence, but was not able to predict the angle of his attack. As his spear ran forward, it caught hold of her garment and tore it off of her, revealing a small brassiere underneath made of spun copper. In surprise he was caught off guard to see this terrific swordswoman wearing such a scantilous garment, and in that moment of hesitation, his heart was run through by those feared blades of hers, the Zephyr.
I couldn't myself stop but stare at her voluptuous figure after her robe was torn from her. The long green sash she wore fluttered in the breeze, and her long skirt gently kissed her slender, muscled thighs. I was struck with awe at the scene I saw before me. This marvelous woman, whose name I had not known, was able to eliminate half of the entire army, and she did it so gracefully that not a single hair on her head was out of place. I stood there, dumbfounded.
Somehow she sensed that I was still alive, and slowly she walked towards me. I saw the daggers blades, dripping with the blood of my fallen brethren, hanging loosely, but still firmly, in her tender hands. She took her time walking over to me, and I was paralyzed with fear. Slowly she came closer to me, and with each step I felt a fear run down my spine. "Is she going to kill me?" I thought to myself. "Is this how I am going to die?"
As she came to stand before me, she looked at me, inspecting me up and down, from head to toe. It was then that I was able to fully see her face and all its splendor. Her eyes shone out like the most brilliant of emerald, and her nose was small and incredibly cute. Her cheeks were stained by the blood of my allies, but underneath the blood stains I could make out the rosy blush to them.
"What's your name soldier?" she asked me suddenly. I was taken aback at her starkness.
"M-m-my n-n-n-name?" I responded weakly. I could feel my feet begin to tremble and my hands start to sweat.
"Yes, I asked you your name. Where I am from that's the custom, to give someone your name when they're asked it." The tone of her voice was harsh and cruel, like she was speaking with the intent to attack my sanity.
"M-my name is..." I stammered at this point. What should I do? If I gave her my name, would she then proceed to kill me afterwards? But who in this day and age asks someone their name before they slay them in cold blood? I was nervous, and I could feel the sweat start to trickle down my face.
"I asked you your name soldier. If you do not give me your name, then I'll have to take your li--"
"MY NAME IS PETER, MY NAME IS PETER!" I interrupted. Her eyes shrunk, and I could see the fire in them grow intense. Quickly I pulled my hands over my mouth in shame, then bowed deeply. "I'm sorry, please, forgive me, I did not mean to interupt you!"
At that, all I could hear was her billowing laughter. I didn't dare to raise my head, staring firmly at her feet. Her nails, I noted, were painted a deep shade of turqouise. They looked delicate, even despite her sandals being covered with the dirt and blood of my friends.
Suddenly I felt her hands grasp at the back of my neck and harshly my head was pulled upwards. The next moment her lips were pressed against my own, and I could feel how tender and juicy they were. The feel of her mouth on my own attacked my senses, and all I could feel was a deep, powerful desire for her at that moment, right then and there on the blood-stained battlefield. Her tongue danced and slashed about inside my mouth as we continued to kiss passionately.
With that my mind went blank, and I began to fall victim to my humanly impulses. I reached out with my hand at her breast, and felt the softness for myself. They were tender and firm, but with a strange bounce to them that drove my heart wild. I played and toyed with them for a moment, and I could hear her sighs of pleasure inside of my mouth, and I knew she had a desire for me as strong as mine for her.
The next instant I could feel the clasp on my belt loosening, and I could see her hands wildly at work undoing the fastens for my leggings. I seized the opportunity and tugged at her sash, and I saw as the remainder of her robe fell down to the ground. I was greeted by the sight of her linen undergarment, which sent a powerful force raging through my nethers. After that I felt a strong and painful sting in my chest.
I looked down and I saw her arm at my heart, and in her hand was one of her blades. In my lustful fervor I failed to notice as she reached around to her sheath and retracted a smaller, longer, thinner third blade and ran me through with it. I let out a small sigh, as the crimson trail of blood started to ooze out from my wound.
As I fell to the ground, I reached upwards pleadingly for her. She smiled at me and put away the blade, then reached down and picked up her two daggers. Before raising herself back to a standing position, she leaned over and whispered into my ear.
"Thank you for being such a weak man." With that, my vision, my hearing, my sense of self, all started to fade away into the darkness. The last sight I saw was the tip of her long cinnamon colored hair drafting behind her as she walked away from the battlefield. Single-handedly she had defeated an entire army of combatants,and she did so with beauty and grace.