1 comments/ 14166 views/ 4 favorites Half Breed Heart Ch. 01 By: ameliamgrace Chapter I King Moracor T HE PERSONAL CHAMBER of Princess Allestra was nothing short of a wonder. The stone walls were covered in peach silk padding. Across the fine tiled floor were strewn thick, lush furs. Against one wall was a large dressing table with a flawless mirror. It had been shipped across the sea along with her tall chest of drawers and free standing closet. The finest feature of the room by far was the four posted, royal blue curtained bed. Her clothes were of the finest, softest cotton and silk fabrics. As with most fashions in Thaldis, they weren't made to cover the flesh, but showcase it. The oppressive heat of the desert side was a constant and garb of light flowing fabric was in fashion. The Princess wore one of her favourite dresses as she sat at her dressing table brushing her hair. It was a garment of thin blue silk held up by two fine ribbons. The neckline drooped, the loose fitting garment draped down past the knee but was split a quarter way up between the thighs in front and back. He watched her, certainly not for the first time from a secret peephole in the wall. She hummed a light tune to herself, she had such a sweet voice, light and cheery. Her long, straight blonde hair fell over one shoulder as she slowly pulled her imported ivory handled brush through it. As she flipped her hair to attend to the underside one of the thin ribbons fell over her shoulder, revealing one full, perfect pale breast with its pert pink nipple for just a moment before she pulled the garment back into place. He had seen her in the nude before, watched her bathe, and walked in on her on purpose mid wardrobe change. Every time he saw more than was appropriate it was still a revelation and he tried to burn the images into his memory. He couldn't help but look into that lovely face. Ocean blue eyes set atop a perfect nose and soft, pillowy lips. When she smiled at someone they couldn't help but smile back. If she laughed the whole room was lifted by the appearance of her joy. There were no smiles or laughter for him, however. No, that was something she chose to deny him along with his right to marry her. He had rightfully defeated her father, taken her royal house for his own by spilling his blood and killing his sons. The law said she was his, a war prize like gold coins, jewellery or a fine vase. He owned her lands and punished her people. They would live on scraps and build their huts from ashes until she gave in and saw what a successful, formidable man he was. She didn't submit, however. While he was in her presence her light heartedness and warm spirit were gone, and he would not take her by force. He needed to see her smile at him, to make her laugh, to watch her writhe in extacy as he gave her the most exquisite pleasure. One of her servants entered then; a young woman with generous curves and dark hair. He watched her closely. She was tanned from venturing outside the tower and though she was not muscular, her legs, hips and stomach were pleasingly shaped. Her breasts were large enough to tense the halter she wore. The thong around her gently curved waist held up a cloth that hung loose in the front and in the back. Moracor could see beads of sweat gathering on her bare shoulders and midriff. The sway of her bare, tanned hips made the strip of light cloth falling from the center of her waist strap sway back and forth tantalizingly, almost revealing the inner curves of her round bottom. He knew she was hairless beneath, all the servants were required to groom themselves thusly. In fact, it was the expected fashion of Thaldis and that part of the world. She will have to do. He thought to himself. He took a few steps, opened the secret passage entrance and walked onto the landing of the tower staircase. Without knocking he opened the bedroom door. The Princess gave him her usual cold look, not bothering to turn around, only flicking her gaze to him in the mirror then going back to brushing her light blond hair in long smooth strokes. The servant left the small tray of fine fruit and watered wine on the table. Turning towards the door she smiled and curtsied at King Moracor. See? She knows to respect her liege lord. I rule for seven thousand leagues in every direction! Anyone standing in this city cannot gaze upon land that is not mine or granted to some lesser man out of my generosity! This serving girl whose face is round, her waist is thin, her hips are ready for child and I daresay can provide them twins at a time would let me have her right here! Even if only to come closer to the throne, this girl knows when she should bow to a King and that she should open her legs as well. I'd wager a million gold pieces on it! "You may leave me Illibra. I'll spend the afternoon taking my ease," Princess Allestra said, ignoring the King. "Thank you my lady, I'll return at dinner," the serving girl replied. "Hold, Illibra. I would like you to take account of my conversation with the Princess," King Moracor ordered, trying to sound casual and light. "Yes my Liege." The serving girl stopped, standing in the middle of the room with her head down. "How do you find the day, Princess?" he went on. "Hot. Hot and bothersome." "Perhaps we could fetch you some cool water? Have someone bathe your feet?" "A temporary relief at best. Even a cool bath would only lift the sweat from my skin, cool me then I'd be left to sit or stand in this furnace you've trapped me in." "I have gone to great lengths to make your rooms comfortable, is there something more I could do?" "Send me home, to the seaside and woodland. That is what you could do. Bring me back to my Nolan and his clansman. I am sure he'd receive me peacefully and pay you a ransom." "The woodlands, where homes are made of twigs and muck, you suffer rain seasons a quarter year long, freezing snow for another, and your countrymen stink of ale and the livestock they keep. You'd have this instead of the land of literacy, silks, fine food, better wine and sensual creativity?" She turned in her seat to stare at him. Her blue eyes were piercing, her face fully furious, she was breathtaking. "Yes, yes! A thousand times yes! Hundreds of days you have come and asked me these questions in all different phrasings, and every time I give you the same simple answer; deliver me to my home! Release me from this perpetual slavery!" King Moracor sighed. "Your concept of slavery is curious. I lavish upon you, give you luxuries that are surpassed by only my own. You want for nothing in this place, your bed could not be softer if I piled it with the feathers of angels. You have something to read, the best food to eat, the most delicious wines to drink yet you would not share one afternoon of polite company with me. Slaves toil in the salt mines, shovel coal into the furnaces beneath the baths, clean public latrines in the streets. You don't know the sting and toil of slavery." "You are my captor! You murdered my family, killed for the crown and my family's land! I will not give you my hand in marriage or willingly grant you consummation!" The argument had happened dozens of times before, but King Moracor was still outraged. "I am no murderer! I am a conqueror, a commander of men and the superior to millions! Your father should have accepted exile if he did not wish to be slain for his crown. He should have protected his family better, hid them away if he wished them to have a better fate, but now I stand here wishing to take my right as a conqueror, to enjoy my prize." "Then take it! Take it and send me home! I'm no virgin I warn you, no delicate waif and if I am with child after you plant your black seed I'll poke it out! The matter would be done, one bastard out and the other well behind! But take me and be done with it so I can be sent away like disused trash and be free!" "No!" King Moracor shouted. "I offer you my right side. To rule over a kingdom of unfathomable riches filled with subjects who would adore you as the flower does the sun! We would spend days in my bed chamber, in the private baths making an heir of two lands and I'd lavish upon you the deepest pleasures, satisfy and thrill you unlike any man alive. Sadly, such gifts cannot be forced. If it were possible I would have raised my hand to you and changed your mind long ago! How is it you do not understand my offer? What I've given you is only the slightest of beginnings, a pittance! Would other women refuse such offers?" "I am not other women! Stripped of my dreams I sit captive in this silk prison, far from home, a stolen prize in a royal slaves bond. Your gifts mean nothing!" "Then I put this to you; If you relent to me, allow me to pleasure you, the spell that prevents you from taking another man will be lifted. I only ask that you give me your grace willingly." "You reach for what you cannot grasp. I will never submit to you willingly." King Moracor took three steps and stopped to stand beside the serving girl. His arm went around her waist, his other hand caressed her tanned, soft cheek. "You would not refuse such an offer, would you?" She slowly shook her head, her brown eyes filled with uncertainty. "N-no my Liege. I would h-honour you." "You see? Even this common serving girl knows that I should not be refused." "She's terrified." "Then I will allay her fears," the King took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His manner calmed and when he looked into her dark brown eyes and smiled the corners of her mouth turned upward. She was relaxing, just beginning to grow accustomed to the nearness of her King. He was fully a head taller, and his long finely braided black hair left traces of scented olive oil on her skin. "I release you of any servant's duties for the day and promise no retribution if you refuse my gifts. Do you understand?" She hesitated a moment and nodded. "Yes my Lord," she whispered. "If I offered you pleasure, would you accept it here, this very moment?" "Yes my King," she replied with no hesitation. His hand traced lightly up and down her back, from the top of the string across her hips to the back of her neck. His other hand traced her cheek, her neck, then back up across her lips as he turned and spoke to Princess Allestra. "You see? Even with her servant's duties lifted for the day and any threat of repercussions remove, she knows I offer her something that no sane woman would refuse." "She is of low birth, she'd accept a roasted turd from your chamber pot if you gave it to her." Moracor turned back to the servant girl, who was biting her bottom lip as he traced behind her ear lightly. "Would you take my seed Illibra? Join my harem?" "Yes, yes I would, my King," she replied with a quiver as he traced his right hand down across her halter, brushing a hardened nipple through the cloth. Moracor looked at the Princess. "You'll watch this. Call it an education." "I will not. It's obscene," she replied, turning up her perfect little nose. "You think this natural act is obscene?" he asked as he untied the servant's top and gently pulled it away. "These beautiful vessels that are host to such pleasure? Such glorious use?" He grazed a light brown nipple with his thumb and traced the underside of the woman's heavy breast. She leaned against him, putting an arm around his back. "You won't win me with such demonstrations. I won't even give you the pleasure of having me as an idle witness." She turned and faced the mirror. King Moracor's expression darkened and his eyes met the reflection of hers. "You would not want to displease me while I hold such a delicate flower." "You wouldn't hurt her," the Princess whispered back at him. He pinched the servant's nipple between thumb and forefinger and tore her bottoms off, the string holding it all up came apart easily. The young woman gasped and staggered at the sudden motion and sensation of such a sudden cruel touch upon her breast. He let go of her nipple and placed her in front of him. Moracor took a breast in one of his hands and let the other large hand rest on her pleasantly rounded stomach. There was muscle just beneath the soft surface. Moracor's eyes were fixed on the Princess's during the entire act, and he mouthed; "Watch or she dies," over the young woman's shoulder. Princess Allestra turned in her seat and nodded, looking at the King and servant girl stoically, trying to suppress all signs of emotion. She didn't want her gaze to give him any pleasure. The King was busy at work. Next to defeating his enemies, romancing women was his passion. He tilted her head up and pressed his lips to hers. Their mouths opened wide, her slim tongue met his and they crushed into each other. She tasted like dates and vanilla, the sound of her breathing heavily throughout the kiss excited him. Her hand moved to his member and traced it through his dark silk robe. She was much younger than he, perhaps only nineteen summers, but she had known love before. The stroke of her hand was that of someone who had pleased a man in the past. Bare and warm to the touch, her breasts, firm as they were, gave way to his persistent touch as he pressed them up and back down, avoiding her nipples for longer than she thought she could stand. Finally he ran his hands across each entire breast, pausing only to tweak and pleasure each pointed nub. They were only one and a half times as wide as his thumb, and she moaned while he circled and played at them. He broke their kiss and half turned her so he could suck one nipple and part of the breast flesh greedily into his mouth. Her gasps were music to his ears and he relented, drawing away for a moment before taking only the nipple between his lips, flicking it with his tongue. One hand reached down and caught her mid-inner thigh. The other cupped her rounded bottom. Her knees parted and he ran his nails lightly up the tender skin leading to her warm, bare mound. Instead of attending to her nether lips he let his fingers go around the tender flesh and felt how smooth and yielding it was. Her heavy breathing filled the room, and as he nibbled the tip of her nipple his eyes rolled to the Princess. Though Allestra tried her best to hide it, she couldn't help but react. Her face was flushed and her light silk dress was too thin to conceal her hardened pink nipples. She sat and stared, motionless. Trying not to explore with her eyes, to watch his work or the girl, who had forgotten where she was. The serving girl's breasts heaved, her body quaked, and as Moracor's big middle finger gently traced the bare slit of her most precious passage, beginning to part the dark pink lips she moaned loudly. He spread her open, not touching between the folds for long seconds, just exposing. The woman opened her legs wider, thrust her hips, tried to grind his finger into her but he was careful not to reward her impatience. He stopped sucking her nipples and brought his other hand from her buttock to the mid of her back and looked into her face. "Tell me what you desire," he asked her. His voice was thick with desire, his eyes were on the Princess. The servant's eyes were closed, she was sure the question was for her. "Make me yours. Fill me with your royal seed, my King," she replied huskily. He did not grant her request, not right away. "You are impatient, my seed will take root more surely if it arrives on waves of pleasure," King Moracor said as his fingers massaged the throbbing pink lips. She was near dripping wet. His middle finger traced its way up to the top where the folds met and rubbed there firmly in quick little circles. She cried out, breathing faster and faster until she stopped altogether, her body stiffening, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling his head down onto her chest. As she started breathing hoarsely once more his finger slipped inside the soft, deep pink, stroking in and out rhythmically. The first finger was joined by a second, and though it looked like it was a difficult entry the writhing and moaning of the servant as it penetrated all knuckles deep indicated it was very much a welcome invasion. "My King, your fingers are large," she breathed. "I am far more formidable," he replied. She understood his meaning and looked at him with eyes wide for a moment before she was once again too distracted. His palm pressed against her mound and rubbed in circles between strokes. Before long she was breathless once more, clutching him to her. The muscles of her thighs twitched with each wave of her climax. "It is time," said the King as he let his black robe fall to the floor. The Princess's instinct was to look away, but her eyes met his and she knew it would prove disastrous for her servant. There was no choice but to watch as King Moracor's tanned, muscled arms lifted the girl so her back was against his chest and held her up with a hand behind each of her knees, legs open wide. Her arms wrapped about his neck and she kissed him deeply. They remained thus for a long moment, his member pinned between her bottom and his stomach. She couldn't help look at the two of them, both tanned, fit. The other woman's breasts were full, her body covered in sweat, she had a curvaceous form and would have married well, but Allestra knew that the King would keep this one to himself, and the woman would be living in the harem before nightfall along with his numerous whores. He lifted the servant just a few more inches, freeing his thick member. The Princess couldn't imagine that thing inside her, and suspected magic was involved in its disproportionate size. A man his height would be expected to have less than a foot in length down there. He pressed into her, making a long guttural sound. She gasped as he moved a third of the way inside. Her breath coincided with his first few short strokes, then he thrust his hips harder and she cried out with each of his longer, deeper strokes. He was half way in and struggling with each thrust to enter further. They were both hairless and the Princess could see every sweat and sex slicked detail. It was obscene but it brought her thoughts to the wetness that had started between her own thighs. She had joined the custom of being hairless and smooth like the serving girls who attended her. They had shown her how to remove the hair themselves and she had only done the waxing herself once. Since then her servants had done it and though the pain was severe, the smooth, sleek feel of it, the relief of a slight stirring of air in the high heat was an erotic relief. Hair made everything harder to keep clean, more difficult to keep dry. As she tried not to stir, not to shift in her seat at the sudden wetness between her own thighs she wished she could just drop herself in a bath and have at it with her own fingers. Her own daydreams were far sweeter than the carnal show she was forced to view. The sight of his member plunging deeply into the writhing servant girl who moaned and cried out was obscene, but the bothersome side effect of her own body craving such attentions – not from him to be certain – was becoming a problem. His eyes explored the curves of the Princess's body under her garb, paying great attention to her pointed pink nipples, hesitating on her lush lips, locking with her deep blue eyes as he moved in and out of his serving girl. It was Princess Allestra he was mating with, not this anonymous low born. In his mind he thrust his manhood into her delicate pink purse, held her up, was hearing her gasps and screams. He pumped harder, faster, felt the woman starting to lose her grip on his neck. Moracor turned, took the woman under the knees with one hand and held her under one arm for a second before flinging her onto the large bed. Two long strides took him across the room. Then he was on the bed, turning her so she was on her stomach. Half Breed Heart Ch. 01 Grabbing her by the waist, he penetrated her deeply in one stroke, staring at the Princess the entire time. The servant cried out, he behaved as though he did not hear her. She could see both partners' expressions, the young woman's extacy was enviable. It seemed to more than make up for the pain she must have felt inside at his persistent plunging. She screamed so loudly Allestra was sure the entire palace knew her pain and pleasure. His was a mixture of lust, need, malice. They were all there, unmasked for her to witness. His hips worked faster, harder, the girl was nothing more than a vessel, a tool. She screamed in extacy as she was pushed further and further across the bed with each hard thrust. He was holding back, she could see it, trying to prolong the moment to see if there was any give, any waver in the Princess's composure beyond what he had already seen. She didn't mean to, it was an unconscious act, but her pink tongue ran across her lips, and her mouth was left slightly parted. Allestra realized later that in that moment she had forgotten herself, even if only a little. She was part of the moment and starting to breathe heavily. He saw it and lost control. His expression tightened and contorted. In three long thrusts his seed emptied into her. His expression twisted and contorted, eyes squeezing shut for only a moment, then his gaze was back on Allestra. She was blushing furiously. Moracor stared at her, still inside the young woman. "You see what you do to me?" he said quietly. "I would visit this paradise upon you for a hundred days." He raised his hand, beckoning her to the bed. "Please don't hurt her. Send her to the harem, but don't hurt her." Princess Allestra begged quietly after a moment. He let his hand fall and was still as he caught his breath before withdrawing and walking out of the bedchamber nude. "That will be my gift to you today." He called over his shoulder. Half Breed Heart Ch. 02 Chapter II Mirboon Forest TIBBOT WAS FLYING high through the Mirboon Forest. Weaving between great oaks, diving beneath the rocky outcroppings of the craggy, steep mountain side and gliding through the open spaces. It was a joy to have one's wings. He was one of many pure breed Faeries, but often boasted that he was one of the few with a close tie to the royal line. He wore no skins. What little clothing he wore was made of fine cotton weave. The Faerie folk weren't a bashful bunch, physicality and freedom of body was celebrated as much as overall cleverness. There was nothing like a good trick to the Faerie Folk, it was as good as fine wine, your best friend or even admirable beauty. His clan thought so anyway. There were others, many others. One clan preferred tricks that relied on magic, others liked to play at being wizards, and still more liked to horde anything shiny. Such fickle clans they were compared to his own. Trickery was difficult! A great jest or trick was remembered for years! Decades! Centuries! Of all the magically touched races he most pitied the Wood Elves. Touched by magic, certainly, but they rarely grew wings, were forced to mix with humans since they were so often on the ground and many of them wandered in bands. He had only seen one band of them, to be honest, and he was shocked to discover they wore leather clothing and ate meat! An Elf who ate meat, no wonder they didn't grow wings! They were too heavy! Still, they were an entertaining folk, making up for their lack of upward mobility by forming acrobat and dramatic troupes. They brought trinkets and marvels from cities and traded with their upper branch cousins, as they were the entertainers of men as well as Faerie kind. He had seen only one of their plays and it was a wondrous thing, he had to admit. Glamours and singing and great acts of grace accompanied the telling of their stories. He glided between the trees following a quick stream when he came to the high falls and saw her. At first it was beauty that snared him. A vision with red hair climbing out of the waterfall pool onto a large flat stone in it's middle. Set between the shores it was a perfect resting spot after a morning swim. Her sweet pink tinted white skin glistened under the clear morning sun. She was completely nude, her red hair was like a curling oil fire cascading from her head down her gracefully curved back. He sat down on the high falls, taking cover behind a jutting rock to watch unobserved. For a moment her bottom pointed upwards just perfectly so he could admire the smooth curves of it, the absolute perfect handfuls it would make before he sought between and below, to touch the pleasure slit. Her secret place was lightly guarded with soft, short auburn hair. He gasped when she turned over onto her back, her breasts were twice as much than would fit in his small hands, but so firm, topped with pink nipples that were hardened by the cold water. She flipped her curly red hair out of her face, throwing tiny droplets into the air around her making a rainbow all around for just the blink of an eye. She had a heart shaped face and pouty, full pink lips. Her little stomach and perfect chest heaved as she caught her breath. She lay down on the rock, closing her eyes, letting the sun dry her skin. It was a Gypsy Wood Elf! So soon after their kind were in mind, it must have been a portent of this fiery seductress! She was the most gorgeous one he had ever seen! He couldn't think of a Faerie of his own clan who compared! Her little pointed ears were his first clue, but there was something else he couldn't quite place. A touch of the wild that was enticing, intoxicating. That must have been it. He couldn't think of a way to introduce himself to her without frightening her into shame or sending her scurrying away so he remained in his hiding place, admiring the bold beauty of the creature. Tibbot was tall for a Faerie of his clan, when his wings came in his aunts were afraid he would never fly. Four feet dead on, almost as tall as a human. Two years after they appeared his wings were put to good use. He was not only able to fly, but he was strong, fast, and loved to spin, turn and flip in mid air. It was like breathing, it came so easy to him. He measured her against his own charms. She was only one or two inches taller than him, she was fit and incomparably lovely. He had never found difficulty in finding a mate, being quite handsome himself so she would certainly accept him with a little incentive. Tibbot concluded that she would be wonderful for him and smiled to himself. As his considerations came to an end she stirred. Her hands ran down the course of her body, slowly sluicing the cold water off of her skin. He watched her lift one leg in the air and press her hand down its length, caressing the water from it, then she did the other. She lay out again, one hand under her head, the other on her belly. Such a creature, I must entrap her somehow. Experience her. He ducked lower as she opened her eyes and looked about herself for a moment. First this way, then the other, and then up the falls, finally behind her. Did I make a noise? I'm sure I did not move an inch, barely breathed, did I! He thought, on the verge of panic, so afraid to spook her. He hadn't made his plan yet! Wasn't ready to be discovered! To his relief she put her head back down and closed her green peepers again. The hand on her belly moved up, slowly caressing like a lover's touch. Up to the midpoint between her breasts, then ever so slowly, hesitantly tracing the lovely round shapes before caressing a nipple. She teased herself, this red, white and pink creature. Pulling at one nipple gently, stroking the other breast, pinching the pointed pink bit there. Her lips parted, her mouth was opened in a quiet, glad expression he had seen when pleasing a lover in just such a way. That hand was satisfied with the work it had done there and moved on. Down her chest and belly it went, her legs celebrated its arrival and parted wide enough for it to play. Tibbot could see the lovely light trace of auburn down there, so soft the fur must have been, a pity it wasn't thicker. The pink slit was so pretty and neat, his eyes went wide as her fingers pried her fleshy gates apart. It was so floral and delicate, that small sweet place. Her fingers traced the outline, explored a little before resting at the top and moving in tiny circles. Her head thrashed to one side, he could hear her breathe in sharply and exhale in interrupted gusts. The middle finger dipped inside and her hips rocked several times before it retreated and went back to rubbing the sensitive spot where her nether lips came together. He licked his lips. I must taste that flower. There must be something I could barter, a key that would guarantee my entrance into this treasure gate. His eyes darted around her on the rock, up one shore, the other, and then he found it! She wears CLOTHING! Modesty must be of some value to her. But there is a blade in that little pile, I must be careful. He concluded to himself. Without a second thought he swept down to the bank where her neat pile of clothes and a heavy cotton bag had been tucked, took the whole bundle in his arms and flew to the center of the pool at the bottom of the waterfall. "Oi! That's mine!" The red haired creature called out, practically leaping to her feet, planting little hands on little hips. Tibbot couldn't help but smile at her angry, pouting face, her fierce naked form was so pretty and demanding. He remained aloft, hovering above the water and out of her reach. "In my hand are the clothes and things, so yours they must not be." "Blimey, what a morning' to meet a Trickster Faerie, and a pervy one at that." "Pervy?" "Aye, like folk who like to nick clothes an' force others to stand in the buff lookin' on, starin' at the naughty bits all the while." Tibbot thought for a moment and nodded his agreement. "Tibbot's a pervy Faerie." "Aye, now that we're sure o' that, what'll it take to get my clothes back?" "Trade." "What? I'd trade you, but I've nothin'," she looked him up and down from toes to slicked black hair. He is a handsome one, if a little skinny and girly. She thought to herself. Tibbot looked down the length of her body, his eyes coming to rest on her lightly furred auburn mound. "I taste your flower and then give clothings back." She stepped back, putting her hand in the way. Tibbot panicked and nearly dropped the clothing. "No! I taste, lick flower! Not eat! I do things that start with kisses, end with oooh, aaaah!" he said exaggeratedly, feigning the pleasure he offered. She giggled and smiled at him, shaking her head. "Well, considering I dinna get to finish, you owe me that' much. You can pleasure my puss till I'm feeling' sunny inside then I get my things," her voice was sweet, her accent was as bold as she and unlike anything he'd ever heard before. This was a creature of unique magnificence. Tibbot was not a stupid Faerie, he knew he had to wait to give the clothing back despite how badly he wanted to just drop everything and rush up the pink and red creatures' legs and lick the flower. So he turned, flew up the falls and wedged her bundle of things between two rocks right at the top. It would take her a long time to get there if she somehow cheated him. When he turned around she had laid back down, relaxed again. Propping herself up on one elbow he fixed him with a wicked, inviting grin. He glided from the hiding spot and let himself down gently on top of her. Arms wrapped about him and her lips were on his in moments. The kisses were warm, breathy, her pillowy lips were soft and inviting. He returned her efforts for a few blinks before turning his attentions elsewhere. Free of her mouth, he feathered kisses down the smooth skin of her neck. His lips pecked and smooched their way down to her breasts. His head felt full, his heart beating between his ears he was so excited as he pinched a nipple between his lips. She gasped and ran a hand through his hair. Her body moved slightly under his in celebration as he flicked at one little pink nub with his tongue, then set his attentions on the other. She savoured the sweet sensations, his tongue was quick and nimble. His hands moved up and down her sides, and he felt feather light on top of her. His patience gave out before long, however; "The flower! That pink flower!" He declared as he went down between her thighs. "Straight on ta business," she breathed with a little smile. "My kind o' perv; cute an' handy." "No more waiting!" he ran his hands over the soft mound and she shivered. The fur there was so scant, so soft, it was as light as air and a perfect red nest. He parted the two halves of soft flesh to reveal the delicate pink he treasured, like others he had seen but this was exquisite. The lips were perfectly sized, only large enough to see all the detail, but small enough to hide in her pleasure mound. The little hood at the top hid a bud that he knew he should seek to bring her to her full pleasure, but tasting was his desire. He buried his face in it at first, celebrating its warmth and wetness; she inhaled sharply. Tibbot lashed out with his tongue, licking, exploring, touching every little fold from the bottom of the dainty slit all the way up one side then starting over and feeling, caressing the other. Her fingers came down to entwine with his dark hair as she heaved and sighed. It tasted sweet, but there was a deep, full flavour there as well. It was wet and responsive. His tongue passed right up the middle, extending out fully, lashing the whole against the pink, again and again and she was squirming, writhing under his attentions. When he began to feel the fine detail with his tongue's tip, her head rolled, and he looked into that pretty, heart shaped face. It was turning flush, her chest, her neck, her face were becoming pink. Her lips came together, leaving only a small hole in their center to suck in a big draw of air as he felt her almost ready to reach her climax. That expression, with the flushing of her skin, the fullness of her lips and her eyes squeezed tight was more than he could stand. His desire changed in an instant and he tore his skimpy leggings off. His own pink tool would fill her, almost certainly, but the lush mouth above was what he wanted most. Tibbot followed his need and leapt up, pressing his pleasure piece between her lush lips just as she opened her eyes. She had only an instant to see it coming and to his delight she did not refuse him. There were a few grunts at first, a little fussing, but she did not push him off as he plunged his member into her warm mouth. Its tip ran back and forth along the roof of her mouth as she went to work quickly. Then he pressed deeper and she made gagging sounds before pushing his hips away. He took the hint, the Faeries in his village didn't enjoy that deepness either, well, most of them didn't, anyway. She closed her mouth around him and sucked hard, pressing the tip of her tongue against the end, flicking it. He was in heaven an instant later as she ran the top of his member up and down the roof of her mouth again and sucked as hard as she could. The rhythm was perfect and he tensed, grabbed her head and thrust his hips shallowly with great speed. She pulled away only too late. He shouted in celebration as his seed spewed all over her face, her hair, her breasts. She just didn't have time to get out of the way. She bit her bottom lip and opened her legs wide, pointing with her index finger between them, beckoning him to return to his work. He sighed and looked down to her with a satisfied smile. Without a seconds hesitation he leapt up and took wing! The Faerie flew at great speed to where her things were, retrieved them and swept back over her head, dropping the items on the rock all around her. He giggled and spun as he flapped away down the river. He could hear her shout; "Oi! I didn't get mine! I only rushed to finish you so you could get me sunny inside after you'd finished! Grotty sod!" * * * Sylvia dove off of the small, flat stone island into the water and washed the Faerie's seed off her, careful to get it all out of her hair. She had to get a bar of soap from her pack to finish the sticky work. Swimming back up onto the rock, she sluiced the water off of her skin and sat a moment, waiting for the sun to finish drying her. "Bloody Fae boy. Bein' his kind I shoulda known it'd be all about him. Haven't found my joy in forever. Finally get a little chance at it with my fingertips and he comes along, promises to send me to glowing' glory but sticks his little manhood down me throat at the last minute. Bloody hell, can't find a good bonk to save me," she grumbled to herself as she started to sort through her things. Her black, supple leather thigh high boots were there, along with her tight fitted black leather pants, a few skimpy thin strapped thongs, her white silk halter top and black leather sleeved vest to match her boots. The pair were a great gift, made just for her. The vest was just long enough to cover three inches below her breasts, laced up the front a few times, and the sleeves were tight fitted down to her wrists. There was even a wonderful silk lining inside with a pair of secret pockets woven within. Her short sword, the belt and sling were there as well with her pennies, shot bag and travel pack with all her extra knickers, food and other provisions. She even had her silver belt of charms, coins and medals. She had fully expected the Faerie to run off with it considering how glittery it was, how sweet it sounded when all the medals, charms and coins chinked and jingled together. He had made off with something of great value nonetheless, but at least she had all her things. He left something in trade all right. Little value that was, He shoulda given something else entirely, can't believe he didn't hold up his end! He seemed so chuff to get down on my puss! She thought to herself, shaking her head. It occurred to her then, she was in the middle of the river, she'd have to use a little magic to get back across if she wanted to get dressed there. She shrugged and started putting her clothes on. "May as well use it for something. Not like I'll be getting wings." Despite the fact that she was half Faerie, her elders told her that her Wood Elf side would prevent her from growing wings. As a girl that was depressing but when she grew into womanhood she realized she had inherited many other gifts from her Faerie lineage. Her beauty was only the tip of the iceberg. She was raised by Wood Elves, they were the only family she knew and she considered her entire Gypsy clan as close relatives. It was good being a Gypsy most of the time. She got to see every end of the Westward Green, the quieter core of the forest. Sadly, it didn't last forever. There had been other mixed bloods among her clan before. They were typically the prettiest and had incredible potential. Many had become heroes of her clan but seldom found their adventures while travelling with their people. To every generation there were so few mixed bloods born. She was the only one in her clan with such a lineage, as it was very rare for the bloodlines to mix. The two bred often enough, being of similar height and attractiveness but offspring didn't come as a common result of such a pairing. Even as a child she knew she was different. Her playmates were kind, however, and her childhood was a happy one. As she grew into a woman the differences became even more noticeable. The clan was still very accepting of her but the whispers about her untapped potential were present more and more. That, along with her growing wanderlust, her desire to go on adventures like the High Elves of old and see the world fortified her certainty that she wouldn't be able to travel with her people for long. It was the sad truth of her existence and deny it as she might,she was destined to go into the world alone in search of adventure, of something to thrill her, to tell her clan, to fill the needs she often felt slave to. Sometimes it was difficult to resist thinking back to the life she had with her people. Being full grown, the most beautiful and sensual of all the women of her age in her Gypsy clan, a roving camp of three hundred or so, she could have stayed and had any man she wanted. She sometimes went as far as to tease the fellows by taking to bed with women instead. None would refuse her and she flirted with them all. She was a challenging student, so her elders told her, and had learned much of what they all had to teach. She questioned even more and ignored all but the barest etiquette. Her need for information about the world beyond what she knew was insatiable. She would suffer no niceties or pomp or ceremony if it meant she'd have to wait to get what she wanted. Her appetites were voracious. She craved new sights, went through what she called; 'passable partners' in the evening that never truly satisfied her and always wanted to experience the unknown. Her elders had one message for her upon hearing her latest idea for a quest; 'just go, you'll be brilliant on your own. You'll find new friends, see new things, do great deeds the like of which we'll sing about for an age! None of it will happen if you stay here, so go and don't be afraid to be yourself. You are not a hidden or easily passed thing like the chameleon. You are a lovely memorable creature and the more that's seen the better off you'll be.' Over a decade before, when she was still just a girl starting to come into womanhood, she and her family were caught by King Moracor's men. Taken as valuable slaves, they were caged with Princess Allestra, whose father, the King had been killed along with the rest of her family. Half Breed Heart Ch. 02 Sylvia and her family managed to escape. They were small, quick, but the Princess couldn't follow. Sylvia had lost so many people she loved when the King's men had first attacked their caravan. She sympathised with Allestra deeply and her thoughts wandered to how she may be stuck in a tall tower, captive to a King who had a reputation for greed and cruelty. That was her great idea for adventure, to go to the city of Thaldis and find a way to rescue her friend if she still wanted rescuing. When she was dressed she looked herself over. Her sword belt hung just the way she liked it; across her hips, slung low to one side. Her black boots were tightened just right using the leather thongs that ran up the inner thighs, her britches hung low in the middle where leather laces wove together to keep the leggings up, and much higher on the sides to hide the strings of her knickers most of the time. Her midriff was bare down well past her navel, just as she preferred. She took a breath in slowly, deeply and then let it out through a small hole she made with her lips. "Magic time," Sylvia said to herself. The river banks were teeming with life. Closing her eyes she could feel it all around her like a warm embrace. The smell of the trees, the fresh earth, and the cool breeze coming off of the water told her that in this small part of the world, everything was as it should be. "Even Faerie boy belongs. Bloody arse," she whispered to herself. Shaking her head, she cleared the frustration from her mind. Several slow, deep breaths later she was ready. Her eyes opened and with a running start she leapt half way across the water between her and the bank, fifteen feet at least, then skipped over the rest of the water's surface between her and the bank. Clapping and shaking her hips, causing her silver belt of little coins and charms to jingle, she cheered herself. "Fae Gypsy blood keeps the luck from turning for long!" she cried as she spun on a heel faced the forest and started her long run through its lush green depths. "Next stop Thaldis, where natures' unsure of whether its sandy desert or green upright tree land," she exclaimed to herself, referring to the border city between the deep forest and far reaching barren desert. The happiness she felt at being near the end of her long journey was tinged with uncertainty and fear. She had never been out of the forest, didn't have any friends outside of her clan, and no wings to boot. She'd have a very hard time winning the favour or trust of almost any Faerie in the area, not that it mattered much right at that moment. Sylvia knew the river marked the end of Elven and Faerie territory. She'd have to look very closely high up in the trees to find any and even then they might not be kind. That part of the forest smelled a little like the darker creatures of the wood. The kind that jumped unwary travellers, nicking their gear, eating their horses and even their masters at times. She shifted her small pack on her back, settling it into a good spot as she jogged at a brisk pace. No horse was needed, she stepped lightly in the wood, knew the ways of the forest and made her way like any other peaceful creature in it. Anything on two legs would have a difficult time catching her. The journey was coming to an end, the adventure was just about to begin.