Changing of the Guard

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He was tormented by her darkness.
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DireLilith
DireLilith
517 Followers

Shar`Von sharpened his sword, the sharpening stone making a crisp, almost slick sounding noise as he ran it quickly across the side of his blade. In the corner of his eye, he could see Sidhe's head bobbing in the water of the deep blue ocean they were camped next to.

His lips tightened and he forced himself not to think of the fact that despite his objections, she was probably out there naked right now.

Unprotected, he thought, forcing the thought from his head that the only thing she truly had to worry about was sitting on the shore, waiting for her.

I am not waiting for her, the Drow killer told himself, running the stone along his blade again.

His helm was to one side, and he pushed a lock of sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes. He hated the humidity of this land, and he looked around the grassy hills and heavy trees as if searching for a more hospitable place to camp, a cave, some rock outcropping. But there was nothing. They would have to remain in reach of the blasted sun that beat down almost every day. And when it didn't shine, there was rain in its place, a warm, sickening rain that just felt like sweat from the gods.

She was getting out of the water now, he knew. He could see her form from the corner of his vision, could make out the curved outlines of her blue flesh. Shar`Von forced himself to pull his eyes even further away, looking around again at the foothills they were camped in.

If it wasn't sunny and bright out, and if it wasn't raining, it was foggy, like it was now. And as much as the Drow like their dark, Shar`Von despised this fog. It was hot, humid, and it made him sweat.

The fog did that, not the fact that Sidhe was only ten feet from him, sitting naked on the grass with her robes gathered around her waist, her bare back to him and the camp in a pretense of honor.

Honor my ass, he thought, huffing and giving up on using the stone and the sword to keep him distracted.

Distracted. That's all I've been, for so long now, he thought coldly to himself.

Distracted by her flesh, by her voice, by her very presence. I have to get away.

But where could he go? And how?

Shar`Von was Sidhe's sworn guardian, indentured to her since his youth, when she too had been just a child. He had not been able to accompany her then, of course. He'd had to keep to escorting her about the woods of their homelands, and about the dark cavernous underground city they lived in. Now he was well trained enough that she entrusted him fully with her care and protection.

And all I want to do, day in and day out, is destroy that trust.

Shar`Von spat to one side, squinting at the slight glare of the sun as it began to set behind the fog. Sidhe made a noise and he looked over at her.

But she was playing the old game, he realized. She was doing it on purpose. Sidhe was still on the robes, their dark burgundy color clinging to her ebon-skinned thighs. For a moment, he was lost, watching her as she ran her hands over her body, brushing off the last drops of her bathing.

Her long white hair hung drenched down her back until she lifted it and pulled it over one shoulder, intentionally exposing the curve of her slender spine to his eyes. Her ribs rose and fell, and he was soon tracing the disappearing curve of her waist with his tongue, in his mind's eye.

Fuck, Shar`Von thought, looking away.

His member was hardened in his greaves, and aching. He snarled and Sidhe turned to face him, but he did not meet her eyes, staring instead into the fire. He rested his elbows on his knees, keeping his thighs spread to give some sense of comfort to his groin.

"Shar`Von? Are you well?" You know I'm not, you blasted witch, he thought.

"I'm fine."

"Alright."

Sidhe slowly stood up, pulling the robes of her nobility up around her waist, over her chest, forgetting to cover her backside, which Shar`Von did not fail to notice. But he focused harder on the fire's dancing flames as she turned and approached him.

The Drow woman came to sit next to him, choosing to sit on the grass instead of the log he had pulled up near their small campfire. She pulled her hair out, running her fingers through it and waving it slightly to dry it in the fire's heat. With her hands so preoccupied, the robe wrapped around her chest began to slip lower and lower.

Again, she did not seem to notice. But Shar`Von did.

Stop it, he wanted to scream. Instead, he watched, entranced, in his peripheral vision while the robe slowly slid down the curve of the wizardess's round breasts. It was going lower, and lower down her blue flesh, until the very hem of it was about to crest her nipples and drop below to her belly.

At the last minute, she caught it, smiling but not looking up at Shar`Von.

He got up quickly, going to the shore and filling his helm with water. Then he came back to the camp and poured the water onto the fire, making it sizzle and pop, and splashing Sidhe.

That should cool her down.

Indignant, Sidhe looked up at Shar`Von.

"Why did you do that?"

"We didn't need it anymore. We sleep differently here, in this land. It's night soon, and we'll need to be moving on."

"But I'm not done here, Shar`Von." "We are done here, Sidhe."

He glared at her, knowing she understood his meaning, then looked away, beginning to pack up the packs. He was frustrated, he was tired, and he was horny as all hell. If she continued to push him, he was going to lose his well-disciplined self-control. Who knew what would happen then.

Then he felt her hands upon his back, running beneath the armor as she found the loosened clasps on the sides and went under.

"You are so tense. Let me calm you," she said coyly.

He knew she wanted no such thing.

Sidhe was a wizard, and slowly rising in ranks in her House and her guild. But before that, she was a woman, something she never let Shar`Von forget. She'd been trying to seduce him for years, since she had realized he was a man and not a boy. He didn't know what it was that had brought about that realization for her, but he wished desperately that she had never taken notice of him.

She purposely undressed infront of him. She would force him to lie next to her in their camps. She would insist that he took care of her personal needs instead of a more appropriate serving woman.

And she used his physical want of her against him, constantly.

Her hands were not intrusive, she was not insistent. She never was, she was always so careful, so subtle. It was as if she was not truly desirous of him, only enjoyed the game she could play.

As if she knew he would never give in to the hostility and violence she knew she bred in him.

Shar`Von turned on her, taking her wrists in his.

"Don't test me, woman. Not today. We're far from home and there's no one to hear you scream..."

"Who said I would scream?" Sidhe laughed, the sound light hearted and irritating, dragging heavily on Shar`Von's nerves. She was mocking him, she saw the struggle going on in his face and body, and she found it humorous.

He simply had had enough. It was a conscious realization, and he acted on it.

Shar`Von shoved Sidhe away from him, hard. She fell over the log backwards, and landed on her bottom, hard.

She lay back on her spread robes, and he realized what he had done. By throwing her so, he had gone beyond anything he'd ever done to her before. Never before had he hit or struck her, or even raised his tone to her. Now she lay on the ground, dazed and near to unconscious, because he had put her there.

And it felt good.

Her robes had come undone, and she did nothing to close them back up. His eyes raked over her body, lying there against the slight incline. One leg was bent, the other curled flat on the grass and her robes. Both of her arms were next to her head, her white hair splayed out on the grass like a halo of streaming snow, and her face was the center of the storm. Her breasts were exposed to his eyes fully for the first time ever, and he didn't force himself to look away.

She began to moan and stir, fingers going to her forehead which probably ached from landing so hard on the hard ground.

Shar`Von had but a moment to think on what he had done. He had gone further this time than he ever had before. And though it had been a release of tension, it had brought something new.

This woman, this tormentor of his flesh, lay at his feet now vulnerable, practically immobile. If ever there was an opportunity to...

He tried to not think the thoughts that entered his mind just then. But suddenly, as soon as he had pushed her really, Shar`Von was beyond thought. He was feeling.

He was emotion. And passion. And anger.

Passionate anger.

He threw himself atop her, crushing her beneath the weight of his breastplate. She huffed air out through her lungs, and her eyes flew open. Then she squinted at him as he panted, his face so close to hers.

"What are you doing..." she started to say.

But then his lips were mashed over hers, and his hands were between their bodies. He was ignorant of how his steel gauntlets bruised her tender stomach and hip bones, he cared only about releasing himself. She tried to pull her mouth away from his, to breath, maybe to scream. But he would not let it slip from his lips. He suckled and bit on her mouth, ignoring the flimsy protests that escaped.

Soon, his member was free and in his hands. And with his fingers he was searching out her center, diving into her sex.

It was hot there against his fingertips. And for a moment, he pulled back, gasping at her, looking down into her face.

It was a face full of hate and ire, anger and dislike. But there was no denying she was excited. She was stimulated. Her privacy was drenched with evidence of her desire.

It occurred to him then that she was likely turned on by how she teased him, how she could cause him conflict and make him react.

The bitch enjoys torturing me!

Shar`Von squinted his eyes at Sidhe, taking in the flushed skin of her face, her swollen and slightly bruised lips, now so tender-looking. And he moved his fingers against her sex. He could feel her labia parting to him, even as she attempted to clamp her thighs together.

"What's the matter," he said softly, barely able to speak for the lust welling up inside him.

He moved his fingers deeper within her.

"Don't you want me, mistress? Sister?"

For a moment she tried to keep his gaze. But as his fingers went into her sheath, stroked her there as he had always desired to do, she seemed to crumple. And in shame, she closed her eyes and turned her face away.

It exposed the dark curve of her neck, glistening with a sheen of sweat. Shar`Von's mouth dropped to it, kissing it, biting at it. He lapped at her sweet flesh, then removed his fingers from her privacy.

His cock was hot and hard against her thigh, but it was not there for very long. He moved it in between her legs, and as much as she fought to keep her slender limbs tightly together, she could not. He used his hand to toss his codpiece aside, out of the way. Then he steered his shaft against her folds. He wouldn't need to guide himself into her. Her intoxicatingly hot lubrication would do that for him.

And guided he was. Shar`Von thrust and drove into her, burying himself deeply that first time. This was the first time he had ever broken his faith, broken promises to himself made long ago upon Sidhe's first advances.

He had her, pinned beneath him. And he was inside her, feeling her hot wetness wrapped around him as tightly as a blade from hell desired to be sunk in a sheath from heaven.

He waited, tensed, pushed in as far as he could go, and still pushing in further. Sidhe cried out from the agony of it, of being so speared and unable to move. Her legs banged against the sides of his greaves as she writhed in the pain of being entered so forcefully. Her head arched back against the grass, and she would have raked his face had he not taken each of her wrists in his fingers.

Shar`Von slammed her hands back down and the action awoke in him the depth of his need. He withdrew from her, keeping his face nestled in the curve of her moist neck as he pulled his cock completely out of her tightness. He teased the head against the outer lips, making himself ache for her all over again. And then he pinned her beneath him once more, forcing himself as deep as he could go.

Now he picked up a rhythm, and continued to thrust. He pistoned in and out of her privacy, eyes squinted shut, squeezing her wrists as she flailed beneath him.

She dare not scream. This was the land of their enemies. Whomever would come to her calls would not be there to aid.

Again and again he pounded into her. And he began to hate it.

He hated himself for giving in. He hated himself for hurting her. And he hated her for making him want her so.

Sidhe was moving still beneath him. Her fingers were curling in and out over his own on her wrists. But she was lifting her hips to his now, and the moans from her mouth, from that sweetly arched and stretched throat were the moans of ecstasy. Shar`Von pushed up on her body, lifting his torso so he could look down into the face of the dark skinned woman panting beneath him.

She was writhing. She was squirming.

She was enjoying his every thrust.

Shar`Von hated her for it.

He could feel his sack tightening where it still lay gathered in his undergarments, the firm cloth he used to keep from chafing beneath his armor. He was tightening, preparing for release. And into her he pushed himself, ruthlessly, again and again.

He watched her face contorting in pleasure, watched the grimaces of orgasmic frenzy take over her features and twist them almost as if she were in pain.

But what an exquisite pain it was, he knew. He felt it himself.

Shar`Von winced, and suddenly he was exploding inside her, pushing his cock deep up within her body, groaning so loudly birds flew from nearby trees.

His was the soft dull roar of the predator unbound.

Sidhe gasped and bucked beneath him, and he panted, spent, still hoisted above her and watching her. He was still squirting within her, giving up the last of his seed as she became lost in her pleasure.

Then she sighed, calmed, and was still.

For a moment, Shar`Von was frozen, staring at her features. Her face, so sweetly flushed as he had never before seen it.

So this is what it is like for them, he thought to himself, amazed.

This is what they see, her many lovers.

Her chest rose slowly up and down, and he was tempted to move his head lower, to lap at her luscious breasts. Even to move lower still and kiss at her sex, see what his wrath had wrought.

But suddenly the very thought of her disgusted him.

She had enjoyed it! He had meant to teach her a lesson, he had meant to show her how dangerous it was to play games with a man's emotions and wants. But she had learned nothing!

And all he had learned was weakness!

This was the woman he had sworn himself to protect. And he had violated her against her will! Like it or not, she had not asked for his touch. She had not invited him to her bed, even with her subtle touches and intimacies.

Shar`Von had raped the one woman who in all his life he had ever felt the kindlings of love for. And she had loved it.

And now he hated her for it.

He threw himself from her then, and scooted away, crab-like, across their camp. Sidhe's face slowly turned to watch him, expressionless at first. Then a slow coy smile came across her lips.

She said not a word as she sat up, but she grunted in obvious discomfort as she made to stand. She staggered in place for a moment, pulling her defiled robes around her and heading to the water's edge. She turned to him for a moment, looking down on him, down her slender, pert nose at the guard she left on his ass in the grass.

"I think we'll camp here tonight. I am weary, suddenly. I'm going to bathe, and then sleep. You'll stay up all night."

She chuckled at the last, and he knew she knew him well enough to know that the last was no command but an obvious fact.

How he would ever sleep again, he did not know. For Shar`Von would now always be haunted by the images of this evening.

Her body, prone and weak beneath his own. Her sheath, stroking him in orgasm. And her groans and moans of pleasure at his brutality.

He could have cried. But guards do not cry.

DireLilith
DireLilith
517 Followers
  • COMMENTS
3 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 13 years ago
Uh...wow

I'm not sure who to feel sorry for.

ladyshyladyshyover 13 years ago
Man oh man

This needs more. Please don't leave it like this. Definitely a part 2 is in order

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 17 years ago
OMG!!!

I love it. I love it. I love it!!! That was fucking brilliant and sooo hot. More more more!

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