Message-ID: <7780eli$9801251941@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/7780.txt> From: Spoonbender <Theodore@spoonbender.demon.co.uk> Subject: The Legend 1 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: "Theodore Spoonbender"@spoonbender.demon.co.uk Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <34ca3fc0.4431688@post.demon.co.uk> The Legend 1 ******************************************************************** (c) 1997 Spoonbender. A fantasy of an adult nature. Not to be read by minors. If you don't like this sort of stuff or you are underage then don't read. Contains allusions to bestiality and non consensual sex. Can be freely distributed as long as it is free. If it is to archived on a fee paying archive then please email me first for permission. Please email me with comments, constructive criticism etc. Don't flame me if you don't like the content or you don't like my style I am still learning the craft. ********************************************************************* The young girl stumbled through the knee high snow, whimpering under her breath. Far behind her she could hear the calls of the hunters as they sought to capture her, was it her imagination or were they getting nearer? She hefted her skirts higher, her fear adding wings to her feet. Longrehn. That was her name. Longrehn the fair. Good lower saxony stock. German, Germanic, that's it, that's her. Long flaxen hair, blue eyes. Tall girl, slim. Barely sixteen. Frightened. Trying not to show it. Not a simple serving girl this one. Royalty she was. Daughter of Iron Beard himself. Beautiful. Priceless. A Princess. She was travelling in the country, when they were ambushed by renegade Gauls, wandering brigands that roamed the forest thereabouts. Her bodyguard put up a brave fight but were soon overwhelmed. But they held the robbers at bay long enough for her to escape with her maid servant. The robbers picked up their trail after a few minutes and the hunt was on. The Servant girl realised they were at a disadvantage wearing long dresses. So she shouted across to her mistress." "Tear your skirt off your highness. It is slowing you down." She half turned, still running, to find her servant girl half naked. This gave the princess an idea. "Strip off naked" she called across to her servant. In the bitter cold she stripped naked at her mistresses bidding. Her mistress took her clothing and rolled it into a ball, which she put under her arm. "Stay here. Fight for your life. Protect your mistress." She then turned and ran, as best she could, in the snow. It was barely ten minutes later that she heard the shrill scream of her servant girl being deflowered. It would be some time before they noticed her trail. Long enough for her to get away. She kept the girl's clothes, she had a feeling the cold would be bitter tonight and she wanted all the clothing she could get. The servant girl would probably be too busy to notice the cold. The Princess had counted over thirty of them before she made her escape. Maybe fifty even. No, the servant girl would not get cold tonight. For hours she stumbled, snow laden branches whipping her body wetly, as she groped blindly ahead. Finally she pulled her hand back to brush a twig from her face and she cracked her head on a low branch. Her world went black. -------------------------------------- The servant lay on her back. Thankfully there was a fur thrown under her protecting her from the snow and to make the action more pleasant for the men. Four long swords were hammered deep into the snow. Wet leather thongs were tied around the pommels and were then extended and tied to her ankles and wrists. Thus spreadeagled and naked she was sacificed to the lust of 47 men and her mistresses freedom. She had screamed when the first man took her maidenhead. -------------------------------------- The wolf darted forward. Then stopped, ears prickling, as she moaned. Then it was quiet again. He crept forward alert for any sign of trouble. But there was none. He had never seen a human before and he couldn't place her smell. Maybe she would be good to eat. He crept up behind her. She was lying on her back, one arm flung high, one by her side. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs and there was a glimpse of the shadow between her legs. He walked around her cautiously sniffing. Then he was drawn to the apex of her thighs. A musky smell emanated from the area, far stronger than her other smells. He leaned down and his wet nose touched her thigh. Then darted back, ears against his head, as she reacted subconsciously to the sudden cold. Bravely, he came back. Again drawn to the same spot, the musk smell was stronger now her legs had fallen open. He smelled it, heavily breathing in the strong odor. He wondered it would be good to taste. He licked her. She moaned slightly then opened her legs some more. Bolder now, he started to lick faster. Enjoying the mildly salty taste and the constantly replenished juice flowing from inside her. At one point she reached down and touched his head. He started to pull away, she opened her legs more to coax him back. Pure instinct. She didn't know what she was doing. Her body was acting at its most primordial. She climaxed though. Many times. After a while he stopped and glided back into the forest. Stopping once to turn and look at her for a long moment. Then he was gone. ---------------------------------------- She awoke to find a large group of men surrounding her. Leering at her bare thighs and naked groin. She shucked herself backwards until she was curled in a ball by the tree. Her servant girl was hustled up in front of her. The naked girl looked a mess. Slimey goo was sliding down her thighs and across her chin. She had numerous bruises forming on her breasts and thighs. She was barely concious even in the dawn chill. She looked at the servant girl and shuddered. She could be looking like that soon. She didn't intend to just let them take her virginity. She would fight them like a man. She reached into her bodice and withdrew an exquisitely wrought dagger. Fine and sharp as befits a princess. She stood crouched, legs parted, knife in front of her waiting for the first man brave enough to take his chances with her. She was so busy staring at the men that she never noticed that one of them had pulled a low branch way back. He let it go and it smashed straight into the princess rendering her unconscious again. The knife slipping through her nerveless fingers. She came to, dazed and groggy, to find herself naked. Like her servant girl before her she found herself bound to 4 swords as a grotesquely fat robber prepared to take her precious maidenhead. She cried out that she was Longrehn, daughter of Iron Beard. They could claim much bounty from her father if they returned her unharmed. The robbers paused to think about it and then discuss it in their hideous dialect. Finally they reached a decision. They would take her anyway. In any event they may still get lucky and pick up a ransom even if she was a little well used. The fat robber dropped between her thighs again and was just about to impale her when their was a commotion of barking, howling and shouting. The robber jumped up from her just as a full grown grey wolf slammed into his chest. Swords were unsheathed but the odds were too great. So retreating behind a ring of steel the men sought the safety of the trees leaving the princess behind. The last view the servant girl had of her mistress was of her tied spreadeagled on the ground as a wolf feasted between her legs. The servant girl thus started her new life as a barabarian whore. Serving the whole band. As the years grew long the legends about her grew too. How she came to lead the band of robbers herself. How they became the most ruthless and vicious band in existence, even in those bloodthirsty times. How they preyed on noble women. Noble women that were prepared to sacrifice their own servants in order to barter for their own lives and bodies. Taking them away never to be seen again. Some say that they have seen these high born girls, years later, in far away ports, where for a handful of bronze coins you could immerse yourself between the softness of their thighs. Many scoffed these tales, why would a noblewoman submit to dozens of men a day? Every day! For years on end! She would rather die first. But many fine daggers lay buried in the snow around these mountains. And the wind echoes the screams in the dark of a winter's night. ------------------------------------------ And the Princess? Ah, the Princess. She had orgasmed many times as the wolves patiently stood awaiting their turn at her wellhead. The juice continually dripping from her as they licked and licked. Hours later they chewed through the leather binding her to the floor. She stood shaking in the cold night air. She tried to grab the fur on which she had lain, to give her warmth, but one of the wolves nipped her ankles. They were eager to move on. The scent on the wind told them of a wounded animal. Instinct urged them away. Constantly nipping her ankles they encouraged her to run. Naked with the pack. Deep into the forest. They say they made her exchange her body for warmth and food. The whole pack mounted her everyday. She slept snuggled into their fur. Only glimpses of her were ever seen again. They say she is wandering out there still and that when you hear the howl of the wolf and the moan of the wind it is her. Laying under the wolf as he assuages his lust within her, the rest of the pack awaiting their turn. ---------------------------------------------- "That was horrid" "That's the legend honey. Just as it was told to me by my old Grand-daddy. He heard it on his father's knee. All the way over from the old country. Around about here in fact." They heard the mournful howl of a wolf and she instinctively moved towards him across the small tent. Another howl, closer this time, and the moan of the wind through the trees. She reached for him, snuggling deep into his sleeping bag. Revelling in his warmth. His protection. Gunter Schmitt, third generation German American and all American GI silently thanked his grandfather. The legend had worked again, he thought, as he prepared to sunder the virginity of the base commander's sixteen year old daughter. Outside the wind eddied the snow, and the branches of the trees shivered, as it howled remorcelessly into the depths of the Hartz mountains. The wolf watched with glinting yellow eyes, darting forward then crouching low. There was a smell of musk in the air. Coming from that strange angular shape, that seemed to glow even though the moon was behind a fast scudding cloud. Instinctively he moved towards it. Other grey shapes followed silently. ******************************************************************** FOOTNOTE: I'm looking for a lady who enjoys my type of writing and who is prepared to collaborate with me on future stories. You will naturally share the credit, such as it is. If you are her and you want to help weave your own fantasy. Then please email me at thoedore@spoonbender.demon.co.uk Theodore Spoonbender. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | <http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/><http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>