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Taken by the Hun

By: Iwasagoodgirl



This is my first submission. Although it is set around the time of the fall of Rome and after Constantine it is not a historical essay. It should be read as a work of fiction. I hope you enjoy it.

*

I ran through the corridors led by my slaves and supported by my personal body guards as the vandals finally broke through the fortress defences. They were taking few prisoners and I heard the screams of the men as they were mercilessly cut down. Any woman over the age of childbearing was slaughtered where she stood and only the fittest and best looking were spared to serve what could loosely be described as an army in the brothels they would make in the dungeons of our fortress, my home.

Luckily my parents and my brother had left a week before intending to return with an army within a month. I had always been a 'fighting girl' and as I was now eighteen years old I was left in charge until they returned. No one expected the Empire to fall to the vandals so swiftly and now all I could do was pray for deliverance but was God listening?

As we turned into a narrow passage I regretted wearing a dress but Father had instructed me to act like a domino and that included dressing the part. "The slaves will not respect anyone who is slovenly" he said on more than one occasion. I heard screams behind me and watched horrified as all three of my body guards fell to arrows shot from behind them. I was ready to take the next shaft and signalled for my slaves to run to their lives as I grabbed one of my guard's swords. I had practiced fighting many times with my guards and I figured if I was going to die I'd die with a sword in my hand when the arrow struck. To my amazement there was an order given in what sounded like a Germanic tongue and the archers lowered their bows as two vandals rushed towards me. I was able to slash the chest of one with my sword and with a very lucky sweep decapitate another. Suddenly there was thud and a stinging blow to the back of my head as the ground rose up to meet me and I lapsed into unconsciousness. 

When I came round I could smell burning and I saw our home had been set ablaze by the invaders. I struggled to rise but I found my legs were chained to Rowena, one of my erstwhile slaves who had blood pouring from a wound in her shoulder. "Mistress ... Mistress we are both captives now ..." She was sobbing.

Before I could answer a voice boomed out in bad Latin calling for silence. As I turned I saw a giant of a man enter the yard and the hoards of vandals stood up striking their breasts in salutation. He pointed at me and the guard who had called for silence said something to him before walking up to me. As he unchained me he said "You're lucky" then with a smirk and a grating laugh he continued "the Chieftain wants you." As he spoke he turned to Rowena and said "And I want you!" 

I found myself being pushed and pulled before being taken out of the fortress and placed in a horse drawn wagon with wooden bars round it like a portable prison. As I was pushed in some of the vandals jeered and made obscene gestures pointing to their manhoods. I was disgusted and burst into tears. 

Eventually we arrived in a clearing and I was taken out and brought into a tent with a huge bed covered in furs. After being chained to the central pole I was left alone for about half an hour and then in walked the giant of a man I had seen in the yard. He had long blonde hair which was repeated on his muscular chest. He stood over six foot six dwarfing my own six foot and I had to look up to him.

His Latin was near perfect "I hear you killed two of my men" he said as he approached me.

"They were enemies of Rome" I answered daring him to respond. 

"Doesn't this Christianity you've embraced teach you to love your enemies?" He asked but before I could respond he continued "I don't care about them, I've come to inspect my property."

"You don't have any property here" I responded holding his gaze. "My father owns this land and when he returns you will become HIS property!"

The giant laughed and poured himself a goblet of wine. "So, you're his daughter Sabina? I thought you were her and I must say the stories about you don't do you justice. You're beautiful, a perfect catch for me."

I pretended to misunderstand his meaning and continued "I repeat, you are on our property not yours."

The warrior got up and opened the flap of the tent and said something. Suddenly Rowena was hustled in and thrown to the floor. "Do you recognise this woman?" he asked. I nodded "She was your slave right?"

"We've known each other all our lives" I answered "we grew up together."

"Pity she has to die" my captor said "but I'll make it swift "Rowena screamed as he raised his sword to her neck and prepared to plunge it into her blood vessels.

"DON'T!" I shouted and the warrior looked at me and stayed his hand throwing the sword down.

"I've already given her to one of my loyal generals but what I give I can take back. If you obey me she will live. Disobey and she dies. Do you understand?" I lowered my head before nodding quietly tears cascading down my cheeks. "Take her away and enjoy her" the warrior said to his general "but before that unchain this one" he motioned towards me "she won't be any trouble now." As the general unlocked my chain my captor said "And I am NOT to be disturbed." The general saluted and left taking the weeping Rowena with him.

Turning to me the warrior said "Two ground rules; you call me 'Master' and you obey me without question. Do that and your slave will live. Understand?"

I nodded.

He repeated "Do you understand?"

"Yes" I replied.

"Yes, WHAT?"

"Yes Master." I sobbed

Ignoring my tears my new Master asked "Have you ever lain with a man?"

I already knew what he was going to do to me but up until then I had hoped for an escape. All I could do now was beg "Please ..." I sobbed falling to my knees "Please don't do this to me. I've never been with a man ... I don't know what to do?"

Master raised me up and said "Then I shall teach you." With those words he kissed me tenderly but firmly on the lips, my first ever kiss. I spluttered as he asked "Don't you have any idea what happens?"

"I've seen the cattle and dogs" I blushed "I know the body parts involved" I felt sick "but ... but ... please ... PLEASE don't make me do this ... don't force me."

"O I won't force you" he answered as I took a deep breath ready to sigh with relief but he continued "it's just a pity poor Rowena will die tonight if you refuse me. But that's your choice." He turned about to give the order for her execution.

I interrupted "NO! I'll ... I'll do it". I felt a wave of sorrow sweep over me as I knew my life would change for ever. I was going to be ruined, spoilt, robbed of my innocence in a war I did not seek and no one with any decency would ever want to marry me. Even the lowest Roman Citizen wanted a virgin on his wedding night. Now I would be lucky if even an Arab horse trainer would take me.

Master stepped forward and with his right hand cupped my left breast and I felt a strange trembling in my legs and tingling sensation in my hardening nipple. No one had ever dared even dream of touching me there. He drew me into a kiss and my womanhood began to moisten. I heard a woman softly groan and realised it was me. "By the gods" Master said "you've denied yourself for so long but now you are about to embrace the pleasures you were meant to have."

He turned me round and backed me to the bed. With a sudden swish of his sword he cut the straps that held my dress in place and it pooled down around my feet as he gently pushed me down as naked as the day I was born. I saw him adjust his breeches and I knew what was coming next and I sobbed the words "Please!" And "Don't!" But it was too late as he let them drop to the floor releasing his enormous manhood. I gasped "That will ... It will tear me apart!"

Master laughed condescendingly as though speaking to a child and he said "Don't worry, I'll ensure its as pleasurable as possible but it will hurt the first time." He sat down on the bed totally naked and gently took my left hand and placed the fingers round his shaft which jerked and spat out a little blob of clear liquid. I was horrified but he gently explained "It's ok, that's what we call 'pre cum' the seed that will make you pregnant is way down below."

With the word 'make you pregnant' I screamed "NO ... PLEASE DON'T GIVE ME A BABY!" But he just smiled and lay down next to me and took me in a kiss as his right hand again took my left nipple and my sensations returned. He broke the kiss and took his mouth and gently nibbled my right then my left nipple and I felt them go as hard as beads as I whimpered in pleasure hating my body for betraying me. A small blob of what he called 'pre cum' escaped and with his right hand he anointed my left nipple with it as to my shame I became curious.

His hand travelled down to my stomach, passed my naval and then gently touched my sex and that brought home what was about to happen. I panicked "NO! THAT'S ENOUGH! PLEASE I'M ONLY EIGHTEEN!" Then his fingers went where nothing, not even my own hand had ever been before.

Shamefully I found myself bucking against him and then my humiliation was complete as he said "My you're expecting me!" I blushed as he said "You're wet ... you want it!" Then he became serious "You must have lied when you told me you were innocent!"

"I am ... I am a virgin ... I AM!" I shouted.

"Well I'll find out for certain soon enough." He sighed as his hands moved away and were replaced by something hard but padded and I knew what was coming next.

"Please ... don't ... don ..." my words were silenced by his mouth covering mine. The lips of my pussy began to open like a flower opens to receive the sun. My pubic hair bristled as he moved slowly inwards and to my horror I felt a storm of excitement engulf me. Then I felt something bulging slightly and I knew he had reached my hymen. Breaking the kiss he said gently, almost protectively "So ... you are a sweet innocent virgin." Before I could answer he drew back before launching forward. I held his gaze as I felt myself being stretched before he jarred forward and there was a sharp sickening deep pain as I screamed and he whispered . "Well ... you WERE a sweet innocent virgin." As he kissed me passionately I felt a warm liquid escaping from between my legs and I knew it was blood. My purity had been destroyed for ever. 

He held me tight and tried to dry my tears as I lay impaled on his shaft. "I ... I ... I begged you not to do this" I sobbed "I'm ruined, spoilt ..." I couldn't respond further because his lips claimed my mouth. Then gently, quietly, considerately he began to rock backwards and forwards. At first the pain intensified but soon it was a dull ache before fading completely. Gradually a new sensation was building, one of desire, of pleasure and total surrender. It was then I realised what was about to take place and I stammered "Pl ... Pl ... Please ... Please don't give me a baby. I'm only eighteen".

My plea was ignored and the movements became longer, harder, more forceful and demanding and I felt my body responding with his. Suddenly a warm excitement filled my hard nipples as my chest rubbed against his. My pussy began to respond with some desire of her own and then my muscles clamped hard on his cock and I felt I was on the edge of a cliff about to fall off. "Wha ... What's happening ... happening to me?" I screamed and then I felt his shaft harden, as my conqueror groaned. In response I was moaning, whimpering, groaning in lust. 

Suddenly a dam broke deep inside me and I found myself arching upwards crying out in lust as a tsunami of fluids came rushing down my channel and a blinding flash of sexual orgasm travelled all over my body. At this very point I felt an explosion deep inside me as his hot living sperm filled my uterus and they raced to be the first to fertilise my waiting ovary. How long it lasted I couldn't tell you but when we finally separated a hot flow of spent seed, my own fluids and my post virginal blood flowed out of me as his manhood began to soften.

Finally I got up and saw the stains on the furs as my conqueror shouted an order and some slaves, brought in a bath and poured hot water into it. Another slave who I recognised as being one I had played with when I was little bathed me and I yelped like a puppy dog when the warm water met my torn innocence. The slave whispered in my ear "We're equal now!" I turned to see her smile. 

After food had been delivered and we ate together I said "Where am I to go to now?"

"I didn't hear you" came the reply.

"Where am I to go now MASTER?"

"That's better! You are to stay here. Soon you will have your slave collar to show you are mine."

"But why? You've taken everything I had of any value. Even my virginity!" Tears were forming in my eyes as I spoke

"You really don't understand men do you?" Master asked. I shook my head as he beckoned me to him. That night he entered me another four times and we both came each time.

************ 

All that happened some five months ago and still there is no news of my father. My morning sickness has been bad while the baby kicks hard at night. ... Sorry, I have to go ... Master has an erection I have to deal with.

Taken... By The Hunger



It had been a few weeks now, since Lynden had experienced the 'haunting' of being 'taken', but it still lingered at the edges of her daily consciousness as a niggling distraction. Though she had tried valiantly to suppress, block or deny those thoughts and feelings that threatened to intrude upon her self-determination to ever need or be consumed by anyone or anything, she had to admit mixed but strong heartstrings to the vivid memories of that night and threads to her recent past.

Here again, she lay upon her bed at the close of another day. Finally, able to relax a bit and gain solitude for her thoughts - wanted or unwanted - after the duties of household and parenting had been completed for the day. Her younger daughter has been tucked in bed for the night and backpack readied for the next school day. Meanwhile, muted sounds of the television wafted up the stairs and underneath her closed bedroom door from the living room where her older son entertained himself. 

The nighttime air was cooling with the advent of fall weather outside, but still the stuffiness of the day's heat lingered, adding to the 'heat' of those thoughts and feelings now allowed to intrude again upon her at this late hour. Once again, she had foregone wearing any pajamas to bed in favor of feeling the coolness of her satin sheets against her feverish body... and truth be told thoughts. 

Unfortunately, and all too common of late, sleep had refused to come to her quick aid in the place of restlessness. She turned onto her back again, kicking to untangle the sheets at her legs for room and comfort. A deep sigh escaped from her lips as she stared up at the ceiling paddle fan visible through the boulevard streetlight filtering into her bedroom windows and upper porch door. She didn't really see the fan or its silent revolutions, for her mind was fixed fully upon her plight. Even now, her body refused to follow the dictates of her mind as it betrayed her by arousal at the mere inner suggestion of that night. 

Being a sensual creature, Lynden had always been in tune with her body, even as a young woman. The telltale signs of arousal were there, her flushed condition with the resultant 'heat'... the tingle or itch of her sex. And if she dared to touch herself... there were no doubts about her being 'wet' with latent desire as well. 

With a sigh of resignation, she realized that like all the other recent nights, if sleep was ever to find her... she would have to breakdown and pleasure herself in order to dim the turmoil of thoughts lingering in the back of her mind... not mention, tire herself out such that sleep yet might come. After a week's worth of successive nights of this... she'd also given up on the idea of ever satiating the gnawing desire.

She breathed in deeply for a moment as if girding herself for what must follow, while stretching out fully onto her back with legs slightly parted and arms beside. She moved her right hand to rest and pause briefly on her stomach before moving to lightly caress her belly button with her fingertips. Slowly she worked her way along the flat of her stomach upward, her thumb reaching further up to caress the underside of her breast while the little finger kept its teasing contact with her belly button. She shivered slightly as her skin prickled, capped off by a noticeable intake of breathe. 

As if without conscious thought, her left hand moved of its own accord to glide over her left hip to the sensitive juncture of skin between thigh and sex. The fingertips of this hand tracing a circle around her pubis mound... pleased by the overall smoothness of her skin as shaved. All that remained was a small tuft of blond hair above her sex. She bit her bottom lip as she slightly flexed her hips up and down, while her right hand had come up to feel the heft of her right breast and caress its underside. 

She brought both hands up her body then, seeking to build her overall arousal better... and eventual climax through particular attention paid to her breasts. Taking a nipple in one hand between forefinger and thumb, she squeezed it while lifting the other breast up with the other palm. The nipple between her fingers responding to the pressure began to delightfully ache... squeezing harder and twisting it a little produce a sharper pain. But a 'good' kind of pain! She thought.

Her reason suggested that she should stop, while desire countered that she could take more... that she wanted to take more! Her internal battle subsided briefly, before her other hand moved from merely hefting the other breast to a grasp of its nipple as well. The sweet torment began again, only this time with both nipples delightfully aching from being twisted and pulled, the rise and fall of pressure over and over again... highlighted by the pain of her bitten lower lip.

Lynden's desire continued to grow along with her mounting sexual tension. Her sex cried out to be touched, so she raised her left thigh crossing it over the right, and squeezing them together to offer any kind of pressure to it in the meantime. The delicious pain and pleasure of her breasts became too much. She used her tongue to wet her lips now dry from her sharp breathing ... almost as if all bodily moisture has disappeared in favor of her pussy. She released her right breast... sending that hand down her body to push between her crossed thighs. 

The instant her probing index and middle finger hit the top of her damp sex, an involuntary prolonged moan escaped from her... as finally they met her so sensitive bud. Both finger searching and reaching... and pushing down. Her juices coating them in sweet slickness as her labia parted and caressed them back. She curled them up through her folds, pressing her clit and delivering a delightful mix of pain and pleasure through aching sensitivity. 

Overwhelmed with both pleasure and a need for completion, she twisted onto her side, her right hand of three fingers shoved in as far as possible... stretching herself as far as possible, but unfortunately unable to reach that bundle of nerves deep inside. That would take longer fingers than she possessed! Her thighs squeezing tight together, their weight and pressure adding to the 'frigging' of her fingers. With great anticipation, she twisted, both squeezed and pressed down harder and faster with hand and thighs as another low guttural moan escaping from her lips. But yet her climax seemed slow to mount!

It just wasn't enough! Too frustrated and growing impatient at not being able to bring herself closer to the edge... it suddenly came to her. Could it be? Determined with the idea... she jerked herself off the bed and approached her tall chest-of-drawers. I wonder if its still there. Now, in which drawer did I keep them... or it? She thought to herself. She started at the top, right hand side, beginning a desperate and methodical search for it. Standing on her tiptoes, she searched almost blindly by hand through the top drawers. Along the way she felt... discarded journals, a book and maybe a forgotten vial of perfume or two. But, no luck. Moving down to lower rows of drawers, she dug deep through lingerie, hosiery and socks, and with still no find for her near-frantic search. Next drawer, housed pajamas and cotton tees. Bent over, she reached far with both forearms under the packed clothes, feeling the back and corners of the drawer for it. Having got this far with no luck, she almost gave in to the notion that just maybe she had thrown it away after all, when a fingertip grazed the length of a smooth and ribbed object. 

As if her hand had a mind of its own, her hand jerked back to clutch at the object with her fingertips. Feeling it again, her fingers closed around it with certainty, but also wonder... and withdrew it from underneath the pile of clothes wedged into the drawer. Exposed to the filtered nightlight, her eyes took in its shape and purpose. 

Lynden's fingers ran over the soft skinned and veined vibrator. Although it wasn't designed to accurately replicate a man's cock, it was shaped like one with a gentle curve, veining, and a bulbous head. Above average in length at 8-inches, it was covered with both a forgiving and smooth 'blue' colored skin to mimic a man's texture. And maybe best of all... on the opposite end it possessed a twist-on control for vibration. But, this function had to be 'dead' as batteries didn't last that long... plus, her memory suggested that they were dead the last time she used it.

Back on the bed in a flash and resuming her prior position, she wasted no in pushing the head of the vibrator between her crossed thighs. Lynden began to thrust the lost-but-now-found toy into her wet pussy and slowly fuck herself deeper and more purposefully than had been possible with her fingers. Ohhh... it felt so good! She was now able to reach places within her... not possible by fingers alone. Her left hand and fingers resume their pinching caress of that breast's nipple. Yet another low moan of both hunger and heightened pleasure were offered up to the nighttime air as remembered feelings of fullness and deeper stimulation came back to her. 

She twisted onto her side again to seek that delicious mix of tightness and pressure on her pussy through crossed thighs and her thrusting hand with the ohh... so sinfully sweet tool. Lynden bit her lower lip to keep from crying out as she drove herself higher and higher. Her eyes clenched tight as the head of her pleasure toy slid in and out of her pussy. She felt her excitement grow, but still something wasn't quite right. She wanted more tightness... more pressure! Acknowledging that while her hand was necessary to fuck herself with the newly rediscovered toy, her wrist kept blocking efforts to apply consistent pressure via her crossed thighs. Plus, she still couldn't seem to get the right angle of thrust such that the head of her toy might regularly rub her g-spot. She wondered...

Lynden twisted completely to turn over completely onto her stomach and knees. She thought to brace her head, neck and one shoulder against the mattress, while curving her back enough to raise her hips off the bed, bringing her sex closer to her slightly twisted torso and the other outstretched shoulder arm with her toy. She kept her legs still crossed, but drew her fanny closer to aid her reach by coming up slightly onto her knees. She used the bulbous head of the toy to feel around behind her fanny with her outstretched arm, using her crease to both tease and guide the tip past the 'little brown star' toward her pussy. 

Then she traced the toy tip back and forth across the sopping entrance to her sex. That sensation alone made her gasp in delight. But she was determined to explore this new position completely. Even with just the slightest hand pressure, the shaft of the 8-inch toy slid in sinfully deep. It felt exquisite... the fit was tight and the angle seemed to touch all the right places. The lips of her labia both tugged in release while at the same time drew the shaft back in of its own accord, mostly likely because of the toy's girth. The overall tight pressure felt ohhh... so good, she thought. Good enough to feed her growing desire. She slowly rolled and tilted the shaft angle with each deliberate cycle of 'fucking' herself. 

She inhaled sharply at the sensation of fullness and being ravaged which came along with each thrust. The toy becoming more soaked with her cream at the mental image of 'taking' herself from behind... her ass provocatively posed in the air afforded maximum penetration and angle! Successful in finding the right angle to repetitively tap and rub her g-spot, she increased her rhythm as the delightful friction and tension climbed higher. Time seemed to stand still as she gave into the rising wave of sensations cascading within her. Her eyes rolled back and she tried to breathe as well as stay quiet. The mounting temptation to yell was threatening to take her restraint. 

She knew the 'edge' was close... her breathing began to come in short, agonized gasps, which she couldn't help by punctuate with moaned 'oohs' and 'aahs'. Slowly, a feeling of intense flush... a fevered heat began to flow over her body. She could feel it washing over her from the tip of her toes to the hair on her scalp. The heat spread over her body, and she vaguely had a sense of being complete enveloped... consumed by it, her breath came in sharp staccato gasps. It was then that she had an out-of-body experience... disconnected... as if floating in pool of fire, all sensations lost save for the cresting wave of pleasure threatening to take her over the edge. Lost in the moment, she was unable to do much besides claw at the bedsheet with a death grip in her other hand, grunt and pump the toy into her swollen, wet pussy with a frenetic urgency. 

The drop over the 'cliff' turned out to be shattering... as her body shuddered involuntarily, legs and back shaking in spasms of contraction and release. In a flash, the heat erupted as Lynden's already sensitive skin tingled with the feeling of thousands of needles. A kaleidoscope of colors flashed before her eyes unbidden. Where the shaft penetrated her, though, was the most intense. Her clit cried out to her, and her pussy clenched on the toy of its own accord, in a natural act... milking the shaft for its alleged seed. 

The final wave of her climax brought stars to her eyes and she bit her lower lip, bruising the tender flesh. "Oh fuck!" she cried. Her fingers released the clenched satin sheet, her palms convexed outward, and she felt as if she was hitting rocky shores of a great ocean, riding the surf ever slower to rest upon the outcropping. Her body continued to experience successive but lessening tremors as she fought for air... until finally her breathing held and her body stiffened. "Fuck yeah!" she yelled and stilled, as exhaustion stole over her.

****

He let his gaze slide over her. She lay partially upon her back, her arms open, breasts high and nearly bared by the satin sheet just clinging to her curves. In her slumber, she looked like a painting of an angel - in the streetlight... a silver, bewitching and mysterious angel - descended from the heavens into his midst. But, the furrowed brow of her forehead? Even in her sleep... something unknowable goes on inside that guarded mind. 

Lynden's right knee was pulled high and bent inward, rucking up the satin sheet and exposing her leg to mid-thigh. Greedily, he let his eyes trail up her leg. The light from the outside street bathed her exposed flesh in a silver light. She murmured restlessly, and rolled a litter farther toward him, the top of the satin sheet dragging lower still, to coyly unveil the tip of one full breast. It was an elegantly indecent pose.

His fingers yearned to skim up her inner leg, to drag the satin higher... revealing more. Uncertainly, he reached forward, then yanked his hand back as if stung. No! He would not attempt to seduce her while she slept, only to have her wake, tousled and aching, yet uncertain whose touch had inflamed her. When he aroused Lynden - and took her, swift and sure... she would know that it was he who did so. He was tired of the wanting to be fully understood... and wanting, the ceaseless yearning for something he could not have.

For it seemed not that long ago, Lynden had writhed in his arms with an uninhibited passion few women possessed. Somehow, he would unleash that emotion again. Yes. He would please himself, and he would please her. And this time, when he was done, he would leave her so sated, she would never again think to wander!

It mattered not one bit that he had been apart from her this long... his confidence severely shaken as to her preferences, what made her sigh with pleasure, how she liked to be taken. He knew the things that did matter: the taste of her skin, the sound of her need, the scent of her arousal. These things that haunted him all too well.

Yes, he would have her. He would convince her. His hands shook with the lust and the shame of it. Standing still in watch over her, he hesitantly reached out with one hand to touch her... reconnect his senses with hoped for caresses now lost to him. Touching his fingertips to her breast... her nipple, he watched it swell and harden as he traced its form. In her sleep, Lynden answered by turning into his touch, her mouth parting, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

Smoothly, he pulled the satin sheet lower, exposing her more fully to his view. Moving to caress her other breast, then watching it too harden with need. A short pause of reverence... and gathered determination, he bent down to suckle, tracing her form with the slight moisture from his tongue-tip, faintly rasping her delicate skin with his beard, then drawing her deep into the warmth of his mouth.

To his shock, Lynden rolled fully onto her back, and her warm hands came up to cradle his head. Beyond his line of sight, he could hear her foot begin to slide restlessly down the satin sheet and back up again, like a cat seeking the pleasure of a stroke. "Ahh... mmm... so good," she murmured drowsily. He was stunned by her words. And then, she jerked awake, bolting up in bed!

He too jerked upright. With a soft cry, Lynden scrambled backward, pulling into a near crouch against the headboard of her bed, dragging the bedsheet together to hide her nakedness. In the silvered light from the street, her eyes were wide and angry.

"Drop the sheet, Lynden," he said, trying to suppress the tremor in his voice. "I swear, I just can't take it any longer." In the dark, he heard her gasp as he stripped off his dark pullover, exposing his naked torso as he let it drop to the floor.

"No!" she said softly, extending her hand, palm out, as if she might hope to hold him off. "No! Who do you think you are? Get out!"

"Oh, Lynden," he whispered, his voice raw, "I have grown so weary of this standoff. You were meant for me. Now just drop the sheet." He wanted to watch, he realized, his fingers fumbling to loosen the fastening of his pants. He wanted to see her, shaking with uncertainty, as she gave into revealing herself knowingly for him. Power. Yes, he wanted power over Lynden. The power to make her tremble beneath him. And the power to make her beg.

It was not his way, he knew. That such desire was wrong - possible even crazy - he knew that, too. But somehow, he just did not care anymore. It was as if something within him had finally snapped under the pressure of wanting to be reconciled in all ways to her. Seemingly a lifetime of aching. Years of submitting to... and honoring another woman before her, only to rise apathetically from a cold bed, appeased yet unsatisfied, for far too long. 

It was time to make her ache as he did. This time, it would be he who cast her under a spell; something to rival her own. He would take her with his fingers, his tongue, and with his cock, until she had been driven mad with pleasure.

"I cannot believe you have the nerve to invade my home... let alone my room," she whispered. "I've had enough of you pushing me." 

"Not so very long ago it seemed, you didn't find my pursuit... my focused-attentions so unwelcome," he answered bitterly. "Tell me, Lynden, have I grown so unattractive... or boring... unworthy of any effort on your part? Do you prefer someone so much more different than me?"

Angrily, she shook her head. "What bothers me is that you can't seem to leave me in peace!" Lynden came to her knees, the satin sheet cascading about her on the bed. Unlike her words, she seemed small and delicate in the streetlight. "As to what I prefer, it is none of your business anymore!"

He threw back his head in an abrupt sigh, "Oh really! Make up your mind sweetheart! In the past you've confessed to wanting... and knowing to be 'pursued' by me, but on the other hand, all forms of available pursuit open to me are thought to be 'pushing' by you? In the end, I've come to think that you lie," he said softly, reaching to brush the back of his hand across her nipple and watching it swell with need.




Taken... By The Hunger



Ruthlessly, she yanked up the bedsheet. "Get out now, before you do something that you regret! Maybe you have lost your mind?"

In slivers of light, she saw his quick half smile. "You don't know the half of it, Lynden," he answered calmly, continuing to lightly finger her nipple through the thin satin sheet. She was on her knees, pressed against the headboard. "I want you, and I'm damned tired of waiting, of being haunted... tempted by all that we once meant to each other!"

She shuddered at that, and struck him hard across his forearm. "I do not... I have not tempted you! Get your hand off me. I don't know what you're talking about... or even mean by that."

"Oh... is that so?" He dropped his dark pants in a pool around his ankles. His hips, thighs and lower legs... his size naked to her. He raised first one knee than the other to the bed, then crawled the small distance between them to her. Her shoulders already pressed against the headboard, Lynden tried to edge farther away. 

"Come now, sweetheart!" he said in measure. "Don't avoid this... you've always been bold before." Abruptly, he came to his knees, seizing her and dragging her hard against his chest, opening his mouth over hers, and surging inside.

Fleetingly, she resisted him, clawing at his naked shoulders, raking her nails down his back, but he thought her determination somewhat half-hearted. In truth, her fingernails were a nice kind of pain, and he kissed her and kissed her until slowly, almost imperceptibly, she leaned away from the headboard and into his embrace.

A bit of renewed confidence found... his mouth left hers then, to open over the turn of her jaw, the curve of her delicate throat, skimming lower still, until he found her collarbone. Using his tongue-tip, he traced its arc and the taste of her, alternating gentle nips of her skin with his teeth. Moving lower still, until eventually he covered the upper curve of her left breast and drew it lovingly back inside his mouth. Lynden shuddered then, and slid her fingers up through his hair on the back of his head. "Ahh... ohh," she whimpered softly.

"Ohhh... Lynden," he rasped, pushing her down into the pillow. With his mouth still searching her, she shivered in his embrace. Deftly, he shifted to one side, and began massaging her nipple with his fingertips, around and around, until she arched away from the pillow, moaning, her hands tangled in the satin sheet beneath her hips. 

He looked down at her then, and saw her eyes, wide and limpid, fixed on his fingertips as they worked on her. "You want me, don't you?" It wasn't offered as a sign of victory, but more a form of agreement, yet not really a question.

"Yes... No... Ughhh," she breathed, her head tipping backward, her voice choking with need as he drew her nipple between his teeth as if to torment her. He could feel her anger surging, shifting, and he had faith in what she began to feel... her sliding into mindless hunger.

Then, unable to deny himself the pleasure of watching her face, his mouth left her breast as a soft gasp tore through her. "Hush, Lynden," he whispered, letting his hand slide down to curve over the flatness of her belly. "Just let me love you. As I was meant to." The hand slid lower, to caress her lower stomach and pelvis through the satin bedsheet.

He felt utterly depraved, aroused beyond anything he had ever felt before as he watched helpless need play out in her expression, in her breathing, and ultimately, in her trembling. She was blushing hotly, refusing to hold his gaze as he continued to touch her, and he found himself thinking at this point, solely on her thoughts. He was so close. So close to having her again... trusting in a future forever.

Would Lynden stop him? Could he stop? He didn't think so, on both questions. He never felt surer of his purpose, but yet, felt like a man possessed. She moaned and urged her flesh against his hand. They had been apart for too long. His pulse raced. The shaft of his cock throbbed. The light and shadows of the bedroom washed over them. And still he kept touching her, smoothing his hands over her body, suckling her. Worshiping her in awe. Yet trying to keep his heart intact. Trying to hold back some small part of himself, in case he might yet be rejected again, while taking what he so desperately wanted.

But it would not work... this holding back! On her next breath, he knew it. He dipped his head to nip at her throat, shoulder and collarbone again, enthralled at her response to this... his touch. Her body shuddered, her flesh shivered time and again, as his teeth bit into her skin, then moved from neck to breast to stomach and back. 

And suddenly, he forced himself to stop. He sat back on his heels. Beneath him, Lynden's breath came quick and shallow. With the bedsheet narrowly draped over her... more revealing than covering, and her hair in disarray, she took in rapid small breaths for him almost wantonly. As always, she was the 'stuff of dreams'... this vision of her feminine arousal.

It touched him. Oh, yes. Forcing his own breathing to steady, he let his gaze rake over her and saw her face blush with color again. With ineffective modesty, she absently tugged at the bedsheet, lowering her eyelashes across her cheeks. There was a sheen of perspiration to her cleavage, the product of inner turmoil and body heat, which added to the seductive vision laid before him.

"Ohh... Lynden, you really are the 'stuff of my heavenly dreams'," he said. "Such captivating beauty. Such natural sensuality... almost a wildness to you. And of course, an irrepressible spirit." 

Her eyes flew open, and then flared with suspicion. He could almost hear something inside her shift. "Is that what you think of me?" she whispered. The trace of pain in her voice knifed at him. "After all, I'm just something to be possessed... an object of your lust right?

To silence the word that he could not bear to believe, he pinned her arms high against the headboard and took her mouth again, more roughly this time. Holding her with one powerful arm, he jerked the remaining bedsheet from between them. He forced his fingers into the damp heat between her thighs, only to find that it was himself, and not Lynden, whom he shocked.

Already, she was wet with arousal... and need. The sweet, agonizing scent of her desire came to him, almost undoing his self-restraint. He wanted to surrender his own control, and pound his flesh into hers. To simply give himself over to her. But he couldn't just yet.

Slowly, slowly he eased two fingers inside her. She was tight, so very tight, as she rode down on his hand. The pressure of her cunt drew him in. A sensual symbol, perhaps, for his relationship with her. He kissed her, and against his mouth, she whimpered once more. He pulled his hand and mouth away, bringing his fingers wet with her desire to his lips. His eyes held hers knowingly. Lynden made a fleeting, uncertain gesture with her hand, then jerked her gaze from his. He caught her hand, drawing it to his erection, already thick and throbbing. "Just take me, Lynden," he whispered. "No more talking."

This time, it was Lynden who stared unflinchingly into his eyes. "Do you want me to just play the slut for you? Do you want to simply fuck me... satisfying what we each need without anything more... like real intimacy or honesty?" When he offered no reply, she jerked violently against him, freeing her hands once more. "Is that all you want? All you can accept... or offer me?" she demanded, her pale blue eyes damp and glittering.

Her pain and outrage was his undoing. "I don't know... in part, because I can't make sense of your past words and actions. I don't know you now," he confessed into the shadows. "I know only that I need you... want you, Lynden. And to have you, I think that I would do just about anything... culminating in marrying you! It's almost as if I might even sell my soul for you."

"Phfff... 'selling your soul'... I find that hard to believe since... how uptight you've become regarding values." She responded. "But for me... you can keep all your principles and your wedding ring!" Grasping the sole remnant of the entangled bedsheet between them, she jerked it completely from between them, presenting herself uncovered to him. She was fully exposed to him now and stared at him with an expression that he could not place. Nor could he breathe... or think at that moment.

She came at him then, pushing at his shoulders and chest, until he fell backwards held up only by his elbows behind him. Lynden fell against him then, her tongue sliding down the curve of his jaw, weaving a sensual trail of caress, tickling lightly at the same beard that had rasped her tender breasts. "You're afraid of the truth about yourself... or us, I think," she whispered against his heated flesh. "But if I am willful, too independent and prideful, at least I am honest. Yes, I want you. Yes, I will give myself to you. But I will not lose myself in you!" 

So saying, Lynden closed one hand around his cock and went fully down onto her knees. He gasped, lashing out blindly behind him to seize the mattress... fitted bedsheet... anything as she took him into her mouth, tentatively at first. And then slowly, she became more hungry, drawing his cock deeper into the warmth of her mouth. Down, down into a remembrance of past intimacy and decadence between them. Long, silver blonde hair fanned sensually across her back, as if pointing the way to her elevated fanny on display for him.

"Aaahhh, Lynden..." He gasped her name softly, straining not to cry out too loud in the night as her hand slid between his legs to fondle him completely. Lynden touched him tentatively, then more expertly, caressing the root of his cock with her fingers, and then her mouth, pleasuring him until he thought he might die. When his hips jerked uncontrollably against her, she roughly shoved him down into the soft tangle of the bedsheets underneath them at the foot of her bed, but still she did not stop, driving him rapidly to the edge of a bright, white light that sped toward him even as he rushed into it.

He wanted, he wanted... aahh, aahh, how he wanted... His hands clutched at the fitted sheet under him, fisting and clawing and grasping, as his head strained back against the mattress, and... oh, heavens, he was so close... so close... so close to losing himself. Spilling himself into her sinfully sweet... warm mouth. Losing his mind. Losing... control. 

"Ohh... Aah. No. Lynden," he whispered, a strained smile coming to his lips. "Not so fast." Grabbing her shoulders, pushing her up and back as he rose to his knees. There would be, she understood then, no pacifying or distracting him. He firmly, but gently guided her back down into the pillows at the head of the bed. Yet she struggled in his grasp, and with a soft groan, he nudged at her thighs with his knee. "Open for me... my beautiful." 

Unsure, Lynden shook her head and raked her eyes down his length. She had never been so afraid, nor so desperately enthralled. But perversely, she was scared of herself; enthralled by him. By his stark, naked, unbridled beauty. It came back to her then... for she had often thought him a beautiful man... and had told him as much. Any trace of his reserve and the honest decency she so admired in him... had been freely surrendered to her over and over again.

His cock rose between them, still pulsing and slick from her sweet mouth. The dim streetlight shone over his broad fit shoulders as big as her thighs. The raw power of his nudity was suddenly more in focus to her now. Again, she shook her head.

"This has gone too far, Lynden," he softly insisted, reaching out to fondle her. "You can't tease me like this... let me inside, my beauty. Won't you remember that this is where we each truly belong... our safe place where we can both dare to be insecure... our home... trusting each together?" In the shadows, she trembled, knowing she could not resist him for very long. He was determined to pursue her... fight for her... and in that instant... them together. Despite the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions playing out in her, she wanted him anyway.

And apparently, she was willing to give herself to him on these uncertain terms. As she let his weight bear down on her, the silken hardness of his cock brushed between her thighs, heated against her skin. Oh, yes! She did want him. She prayed that she could someday come to terms with just how much. Boldy, she stared him up and down in the diffused light. He was beautiful, this man whom a part of her - she didn't like to admit how much - had never ceased to desire! Hard and soft at the same time, with a sensual mix of both muscle and gentleness. In the end, his masculine beauty, the sheer allure of his body, was her undoing.

'Open your legs, Lynden," he softly asserted. "And then tell me that you want - desperately want - me inside you." The sensuous words registered to her in a way she did not understand. She exhaled deeply, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed deeply. Again, she was taken by the raw sensuality of his hardness and the softness of the curves expressed by his chest and stomach. 

Her gaze drifted slowly lower as those line pointed toward his sex, still heavy and prominent. She was driven by a hunger to touch those curves again, tracing those lines downward, and ending by feeling the weight and velvet surface of his cock. Almost involuntarily, she jerked one hand free of his grasp and reached out for him.

"Oh, no," he growled, swiftly recapturing her fingers. "I'm not sure that I trust that hand of yours." His hand left hers, and to her utter shame, he skimmed one hand lightly down her stomach to her kitty. With his thumb, he spread open the folds of her labia, sitting back now on his knees and thighs, he bent down... lowering his mouth to kiss her there. His tongue slid into her warmth, drowning her in sweet sensation.

A hot yearning coursed through her, pooled in her stomach, then tugged at her center. It was too much, too much... Lynden tried to push him away. "No," he whispered, then his teeth nipped at the tender skin of her inner thigh. "I want you to... want me... hunger for me now... as I have... these months we've been apart. I want you to ache and squirm and almost drown in it."

And beneath the sensual onslaught, Lynden felt herself slip deeper into the abyss. Firmly, his fingertips slid inside, touching her with a jolt of pleasure as he urged her apart to taste her more intimately. Lynden cried out in shock, then strained hard against him as his tongue touched her very core. She shook, then squirmed, as he continued touching her. Any shred of control she might have possessed was gone. This went far, far beyond their past mutual passion for each other. It was more than just a case of a ready spark and flammable fuel resulting in fire. The real byproduct of their chemistry together, was an explosion out of proportion to each ingredient. Oh he would have his way, because she would allow it. Willingly.

Lynden no longer thought to guard herself against him, of being consumed or possibly hurt. She stared down at herself. He had one hand on her knee, urging her legs wider, the other hand stroking her breast as his tongue slid sinuously into her wanton sex, which she willingly offered without modesty, restraint or any pride she might have cared to use in order to shield herself. She wanted the 'edge' just ahead; that sharp, shimmering blade of sensation that tatalized somewhere just beyond her reach right now.

And she knew that he could take her there. She had only to surrender to him, and... she began to feel the 'edge' draw nearer. Yes. So sweet, so very close. Her hips bucked again. Something inside her began to give way. And then abruptly, he stopped. She bit back a cry of frustration. In the darkness, she heard the accompaniment of nighttime insects intrude. "Tell me, Lynden," he rasped, his fingers digging into her thigh. "Tell me that you are mine!"

She felt herself shudder with an ache so deep she thought she would die. Against the pillow, she tilted her head to plead with him. "Please..." she whispered. "Don't stop. Finish it... Please!" Roughly, her jerked her thighs wider still and slid up her length. "Mine, Lynden," he growled in a whisper against her temple. "You belong to me! And I swear, I'll return and throw you over my shoulder... giving you "hell" to pay, if you ever shove me away again, do you hear me?" She tried to nod, but failed.

His teeth raked across her throat and down to her breast. "Ahhh, Lynden!" he said, his voice dropping to an unsteady whisper. "My most beautiful Lynden... what am I saying?" He glanced up at her with a soft smile. "I must be mad with passion. Insane with desire. For I love you too much. Too much."

Lynden listened to the words, all too aware of the weight and heat of his cock at her entrance. If she gave herself again to him now, there would be turning back from him. But had there ever been? No. Never. 

And so she wrapped her arms about his waist, lifted her knees, and pulled him into her. He let his weight fall forward, bracing his hands near her shoulders. She felt him probe her, spread her, and then slowly begin to fill her. So very, very good. Better, even, than his mouth. Eagerly, Lynden tipped her hips up to take him, aching with a strange, soul-deep emptiness. His eyes tearing, and in the nighttime light she could barely see the dark lashes that rested across his cheeks. A bitter smile of satisfaction curved at his mouth as he thrust fully into her, then pushed swiftly, deeply inside.

It was then that he shuddered and paused... dropping his forehead to lightly touch hers. His eyes tearing at the thought of her surrender to him... all his angst over their recent past recast into better perspective... and momentarily dimmed in comparison to her well-being and what she offered him. "Dear Lord, Lynden." he whispered, breathing deeply, trying to force the lump from his chest. "What have I done... to you?"

Beneath him, she shifted, rocking her hips upward, taking him incrementally deeper in a sweet intimation of her wishes. Despite the heated press of tears behind his eyes, He found that below the waist, his flesh was too weak to refuse her. His baser instincts still ruled. Buried deep inside her feminine warmth, his cock hardened unrepentantly. "Mmmm..." she breathed. As if she had willed it, he began to move inside her again, knowing that he had no right, except by her grace.

But pace for pace, she matched him, rising up to meet his thrusts as he glided over her. Bracing his weight on his hands, he lifted himself high, and gazed down at her as he filled her with long, gentle strokes. Her hands came up to caress his waist, then slid smoothly around to the small of his back. Lower still, she skimmed over the tight muscles of his buttocks, urging him fully against her.

Her eyes closed as he stroked her. Her breath came short and fast. She parted her lips, and he could see the pink of her tongue - the same tongue which had so erotically tortured him - pressed high against her upper teeth. "I love you Lynden." He breathed the oft-spoken words into the shadows, feeling her quicken beneath him. Her legs came around his waist and her fingers pressed into the muscles of his thrusting hips. After that - and seemingly into infinity - there was nothing but the glide of flesh over flesh, raw gasps of pleasure, unrestrained groans. His or hers? He did not know.

The sounds of passion filled the night. He loved her. So much, he loved her. He always had, even when she drove him mad with frustration or wounded with rejection. Lynden would be the death of him. He'd always known it, and yet, he'd always loved her. Forgiven for her lack of trust... even the commitment of love. He lowered his head, placed his lips to her ear, and told her of his undying love again.




Taken... By The Hunger



Lynden's climax came upon her fast, and he held her close, never flagging in his pace as she thrust hard against him. Softly, she cried out, clinging to him so sweetly that he felt again the tears of love and guilt spring unbidden to his eyes as she crested, and called out his name from far, far away. So near, so powerful... the pleasure rolled through his gut, then rose up to pull him under its rich, churning depths. With an incomprehensible yell, he came in a rush, capped off by one last powerful thrust. For how long the exquisite torture lasted... he did not know. But his seed spilled inside her in several pro-longed contractions. He had yet until now to experience an orgasm of such intensity and duration. She would be death of him yet. But oh... such a sweet death that would be.

Long moments later, he dragged himself from atop her and rolled to one side of Lynden's bed and lay limply across her sheets. Now sated, he should have been fatigued, but he was far from it. His mind began to taunt him. Lynden. Dear heaven, for all her worldly experience, her feminine wiles - she had yet something of the innocent about her! But there was no mistaking what he had done. What she had yield to. Its significance did not escape him. And now, he had maybe taken something precious from her. And he wondered... maybe in the ugliest, most brutish of ways, too. Deeply ashamed, he shifted to one side to stare at Lynden.

She lay perfectly still, her eyes shut. Slowly, she drew one hand down her face, but the reality did not change. He was still there. Beside her, she felt him tremble. "Are you sorry?" she spoke without opening her eyes. 

"Oh sweetheart. Lynden," he whispered, evading her question. "What have we... what have I done?" He levered up higher, and looked down at her. Had he harbored any doubt at all, the evidence her being 'taken' was seen in the flush of her skin, the disarray of her hair, the tears in her eyes, and the scent of their lovemaking still in the air. 

"What have we done?" she echoed softly. "I think what we set out to do, long ago. What came so naturally from the heart... and came from learning each other's heart. And perhaps not changed?"

"Lynden," his voice was pleading. "Why didn't you tell me? What kept you from it?"

She rolled into him then, and suddenly he could see the unshed tears pooling in those cool, pale-blue eyes. "Do you know, I think I did," she softly protested. "I told you everything, not so very long ago. I love you so very much. But I'm afraid of losing myself to you. Perhaps, I'm better off alone. Do you recall that?"

He could only stare at her, and Lynden continued. "No. Of course you don't, she answered dully, her head falling back onto her pillow. "You continued to pursue me, blind to the question. But if I did not... choose to be a willing partner that is, it was my decision."

"Oh, Lynden!" he softly cried, rolling into her, and dragging her ripe body against him. "Real love doesn't take... it frees one another to be both who they are... and hope to be. I only ever wanted to set you free... to lift you up. But, just tell me. Do you... can you... still hope for reconciliation... equality in love for us?"

"Don't speak to me of that." She said quietly. 

He rolled onto his back and dragged an arm over his face. "Damn it," he whispered hollowly. "I'm going to pay for my sins this night in the worst way, right? And rightfully so." When she did not respond, he continued. "In light of what I knew, I had no choice but to believe, Lynden, that you willingly abandoned me."

He rolled back to one elbow beside her. "That you surrendered our dreams - those of which I thought we were building together - in favor of something or someone else." He offered in a hush voice with some notable fear. "I convinced myself you must have done so, else you would have fought harder for us. We've wasted so much time. No matter how far you shoved me away, no matter what you've done, I have never stopped loving you." He kissed her again, and drew her closer still.

"I'm not sure that I'll ever fully understand you," she insisted, but she snuggled into his embrace. Her head cupped by his shoulder, and one leg and hip crossed over his in an intimate embrace. He was winning her, perhaps. But he was almost afraid to hope. He sighed into her air. "Look, Lynden. I'm oh so sorry for some of my assumptions made without knowing better of you. But I'll not lie and say I'm sorry for the outcome. I know we have things to sort out. I tried to say as much... many times in the past." 

She stared up at him, unblinking. His mouth curved a little bitterly. "Yes, Lynden. A part of you is justifiably angry. Can you trust me to make it right? Can you set aside your anger, just for tonight? We are both so wounded, so emotionally raw. For just a few hours can we pretend that we are still lovers, alone in the world, with no trouble between us? As it used to be for us not so long ago?"

Lynden did not know what to do. And so for once, she simply did as she wished. She snuggled herself deeper into the crook of his shoulder, hugged him a little tighter with her body, inhaled his warm, familiar scent, and listened as the comforting sound of his breathing deepened into sleep.

Oh, she knew that he had wronged her. But with his heart... not his words... or actions. The physical act of lovemaking had been as much her fault as his. Lynden knew many things that she could have said to discourage... stop or hurt him again, and had used none of them tonight. Instead, she had remained in her bed, half enthralled, half indignant, and in truth, only a little scared. As always, she enjoyed speaking her mind to him. She almost took pleasure in testing his resolve and driving him to distraction. Theirs had always been a passionate relationship. Now was no different. Did she really want anything different? Could she really settle for less the rest of her life? She didn't think so. Her thoughts began to drift and she relaxed into the bed, smelling his scent. The last thought that crossed her mind before she floated into sleep was that she wanted him...

****

She gradually awoke as the morning sunlight invaded her bedroom, and the outside traffic increasingly claimed a larger part of her consciousness. A general feeling of contentment, security and peace, clung to her like a warm blanket on a cool day. Out of habit, she sleepily turned to look at her bedside clock, 7:11am. Late. 

Oh shit... shit, shit! Katie will be late for school. For then it hit her. Resigned, yet she felt for certainty that she hadn't been dreaming again. But this time... she was confused! Her satin sheets were mostly dry to the touch. However, her sex was tender to the touch. She could also smell the lingering scent of her secretions, as well as maybe him. There had to be more she thought... more to dispel her unbelief that indeed she was losing it... her heart and mind in the contest of wills? 

But then a searching hand grazed the tip of her toy lodged under the bedsheet beside her. Most of the puzzle came back then, as to why some things were... why her body maybe felt as it did. But that didn't prevent her blushing deep within at recalling the vividness of her dream about him... and the knowledge of being 'taken' by the hunger within her!

Finis