The Heartstone Saga by Archibald Bradford (short novels in english .TXT) 📕

of a caster press against his ear, a square jawed woman with blood-shot eyes and a red nose glaring down at him.

“On your feet pretty boy, Tristan will want a word before I get to make you my bitch.”

__________

While Adrian was still wending his way through the prisoners’ camp, at the bottom of the gulley the sentry he’d grappled with picked himself up out of the dirt with a curse and a groan.

Before he could sound the alarm though, a female voice came from right beside him.

“Oh no! That was such a nasty fall!”

He jerked around to face the fretting falsetto; he’d lost his gun in the gulley, so he pulled his knife from his belt as he moved.

But the beauty standing before him was completely naked, and all thoughts of violence were driven from his head as he looked her over from her tits to her toes.

She stepped closer, her eyes wide and communicating nothing but concern for his wellbeing, as if he were the center of her world.

“Are you alright daddy?” She asked, her voice still so very high and innocent.

He couldn’t speak, didn’t even remember how.

Despite her naive behaviour, she was a full grown woman, with an emphasis on woman.

Her skin was pale and clear, with full breasts topped with pert nipples, and hips that swayed with promise as he watched. Her hair was thick and lusciously dark, the colour a match for the little thatch above her sex, and in that moment all he wanted to do was fold himself into her naked body, bury his face in her mane and breathe.

But her fingers on his chin stopped him, directing his gaze away from her nakedness and into her eyes.

They were green, unnaturally so, and looking into them was positively… bewitching.

The sentry staggered towards her, drunk on her nakedness and his own hungers, and while he did Olena’s innocent act fell away as readily as her clothing had.

“That’s it, big strong man.” She accepted his embrace and crooked her bare leg around his calf; “Will you take what I have to give?”

Eldritch mist flowed from her mouth and eyes when she asked, seeping into the stupefied man as he nodded.

With her breasts mashing into his chest, and her skin so smooth beneath his hands, he would do just about whatever she wanted him to.

“Say it.” Her voice was husky and heavy with erotic anticipation as she moaned and begged into his ear; “Tell me, please! I need to hear it daddy!”

Why she had chosen that particular moniker was anybody’s guess, but it did the trick.

“I’m gunna take everything you have!” He swore as he pressed his pelvis hard into hers, his lusty vision clouding with the green mist she was exuding.

And with the words spoken, she sealed his fate; his entire body going rigid as her power continued to seep into him.

Once it was finished, he stood before her blank-faced and waiting.

She casually tossed her clothes back on, all traces of her earlier lust gone, and once dressed her eyes flashed green again as she nodded at him.

“Run along little boy. They are waiting for you.”

With his will torn away from him, or rather given away by him, the bewitched man turned and scrambled back up the gulley, oblivious to the little cuts and bruises his reckless clumsiness inflicted as he went.

“Always wanted to try that one.” She mumbled to herself before following.

__________

Not far away Adrian was licking his lips nervously, mentally searching for a way out of the tight spot he found himself in.

The medic, Joan, still had her weapon pressed tight to the side of his head as she roughly patted him down, though she stopped at his crotch, rudely groping at him.

“Nice big cock in here eh? I’ll get some use out of that once Tristan is through with you.”

Given that she reeked of booze and sweat, the woman’s advances were unwelcome to say the least.

“What’s a Tristan? Is that a kind of cracker?”

The gun pressed harder into his skull and she squeezed his balls through his pants.

“Don’t be cute.” She snarled at him, the stench of alcohol on her breath overwhelming him; “I got no use for cute.”

Over her shoulder though, Adrian saw Olena’s familiar figure approaching and any concern for his own wellbeing was completely forgotten.

All the planning and sneaking around and the Witch just walked through the camp like she owned it.

“That is a shame.” She called out in her familiar lilted voice; “Because I don’t think he can help but be cute, although a shave wouldn’t hurt him.”

The woman spun around to face her, leveling her weapon at her chest.

“Where the hell did you come from?!” She demanded.

Olena didn’t answer, instead she curled her fingers inwards and checked her nails.

Adrian rolled his eyes, but kept silent, his grip on his pliers tight.

After a few moments of absorbing the surprise of the woman’s sudden appearance, Joan laughed at her apparent bravado, Olena still examining her nails.

“Oh this is perfect! None of these pussies can handle what I got.” She sneered at the gorgeous woman; “But I bet they’d love a go at you!”

The monster girl yawned, bringing the back of the hand she had been examining up to cover her mouth as she did.

“I doubt that very much. I have no use for ‘boys’, beyond uses they would likely be against.”

The Witch was so utterly calm despite their grave situation, but Adrian still had his eye on the end goal, so while the drunk was distracted he made his move.

Joan’s arm swung towards him to stop him when she saw him coming, but he closed the distance before she could protect herself and thrust his pliers at her neck as hard as