The Duchess of Lust Ch. 01 - The Barbarians

And yet she knew that she was not yet finished.

"Well done," Ulrik said to his champions. "You have tested her well. Is she worthy?"

"Aye!" every single one of the champions roared.

Sarya couldn't help but to smirk a bit at that.

A witch stepped forward with a towel and tossed it to the duchess. Her weak hands grasped at it, and she wiped herself clean as best she could. Another witch approached bearing a small bottle of a sweet-smelling liquid. Sarya raised an eyebrow.

"For the pain and exhaustion," the witch grunted. Sarya took a sniff, wondering if the concoction was similar to what Brunloc had brewed for her. She took a sip and felt a chill race through her, and it seemed to eat away at the pain and exhaustion, as if she had just awoken from a long, pleasant slumber.

"Give her a few minutes," the witch said to Ulrik. "Then you can proceed."

The king nodded and stepped closer, inspecting her as she caught her breath. She felt incredibly exposed: naked and half-ruined by the experience, but she did not shy away from his gaze.

"Well done," he said. "I have never seen an offering do so well in the tests of my champions."

"Perhaps we southern nobles are not so soft and weak after all," she said with a slight smirk, as she used the towel to wipe a bit of dried cum from between her thighs.

"I shall be the judge of that."

She started to rise, and Ulrik reached out to help her, but she brushed away his hand. The combined effects of the potions of Brunloc and the witches had given her a surprising reserve of strength.

"While we wait," she said, still a touch breathless. "May I pester you with more questions, your highness?"

He snorted.

"You need not use such frilly titles with me. You can just call me king, or even Ulrik, if you wish. And yes, you may pester. But I may not answer."

"Why did you come here?" she asked. "Why leave your homes and your hunting lands so far behind?"

He gestured at the flames.

"Our gods demanded it. We do rituals similar to this one, albeit with other offerings, so we may speak to our gods of war and of the hunt, to learn what challenges they wish us to undertake. Three of our great and bloody gods demanded that we march south, to test our mettle against the steel and stone of the cities of the Empire."

"And if you fail? If your horde is broken?"

"Then we will have failed our gods, and shall be denied an honorable afterlife. But had we stayed and not listened, our fate would be far, far worse. But if we succeed...we shall feast and revel with our gods for eternity, in their gleaming halls." Ulrik raised his voice towards the end, and his champions let out breathless roars. Many of them were spent from the wild orgy, guzzling down wine and water to recover. A handful had even trudged off back towards their tents.

"You can't win, surely you know that," she said softly. "Even if Fellhaven falls, you cannot imagine that you can take down the armies of the Empire and all of the other great cities and duchies."

"You place too much faith in your numbers, duchess. Your Empire is divided. Squabbling, feuding, bickering. Were you united, this city would already have been relieved, or my force would have been stopped the moment we crossed the border-mountains. With each city that falls, the others will simply bicker all the more over what remains, like vultures feuding over the rotting corpse of their kin."

Sarya flinched at that imagery, for she knew he had a point. The cities and duchies of the Empire were just as likely to fight each other as they were outside forces. But if Fellhaven could stand, perhaps that would change.

"And what would it take, to turn you from this path?" she asked.

"Another message from our gods," he grunted. "When the holy moon of our gods of war rises once more, we shall conduct other rituals, to see if they approve of our campaign. If they change their mind, as they occasionally do, we shall return home. So only a divine command or death shall end this war, duchess."

She thought for a moment, wondering what it would be like to be so slavishly devout. She herself paid homage in the temples to the gods of the Empire, of course, but she'd never imagine waging a massive war just due to the whispers of one of those gods.

"And when is this next ritual?" she asked, gesturing to the blue flames. "When is the next holy week of the Spirit of the Dancing Forest?"

Ulrik chuckled darkly.

"Are you so eager to give yourself to me and my champions again?"

Her cheeks reddened even further. Sarya would never admit that she had enjoyed the wild claiming of her body so much, but she was more concerned if there was a way to force another truce.

"Eager if it means further peace," she answered.

"Not for another seven months," he said. "So if the siege lasts that long, you may try again." He let out another dark chuckle.

His icy eyes inspected her thoroughly, and he raised a dark eyebrow.

"Are you ready?"

Sarya's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't quite sure.

But she was sure of the need to spare Fellhaven, so she nodded.

"Then it is is time," the king growled. He stepped even closer to loom over her, and she shuddered at the cold hunger in his gaze.

"But I shall not test you alone. One of my champions shall serve as my second. The choice is yours."

Her eyes widened at that, and she turned to sweep her gaze over the warriors. None spoke. Some seemed too exhausted and spent to want another round with her, while others gazed hungrily at her, clearly wishing to be chosen.

The young, curly-haired warrior simply flashed her another soft, warm smile.

She returned it, and nodded at him. He certainly deserved it, given how expertly he'd made her orgasm with that mouth of his. And he had been one of the few not to use her mouth, her pussy or her ass, and he was still dressed, so it seemed he had not yet sated his own lusts.

Some of the other champions growled with disappointment, but others clapped him on the back as he stepped forward.

"May I know your name now?" she asked softly.

"Akkar," he said. "Commander of the scouts of the Iron Blades."

"And the most skilled man with a bow I've ever known," Ulrik said proudly.

"And the best with that mouth, too," Sarya said with a slight giggle.

Akkar laughed, then set to undressing, but she shook her head and stepped forward.

"Allow me." She undid the clasp of his fur cloak and it fell away, then she set to undoing the bindings and simple buttons of his vest. His fingers ran gently through her hair as she exposed his leanly muscled chest. He was pale like most of the others, but his scars were fewer and less severe. She ran her fingers over one just above his navel, then her fingers drifted down to his belt.

She smiled and met the kind young man's eyes as she undid it, then let his leggings fall to the grass. Sarya spared a quick glance down at his shaft: it was long and hard, but a bit thinner than the bald man's had been, but she was sure it would prove more than sufficient to the task at hand.

Akkar kicked off his boots, then gently took her wrist and guided her hand towards his shaft. She sighed at the feel of the warm, hard flesh, and slowly began to stroke. Akkar smirked and nodded, then gently pushed at her chin to turn her gaze to the side, so she now saw Ulrik.

The king watched her unblinking, as he began to undress. His heavy fur cloak and armor thudded to the grass, and he unstrapped his sword and handed it to one of the witches. Her breath caught in her throat as he unlaced his ide vest, revealing a well-built, scarred and pale chest.

His skin looked so firm it was as if it was made of stone, as if the savage war gods themselves had carved him out of the rock of a mountain. He knelt, still watching her, to undo his thick boots.

Her hand faltered around Akkar's cock, and he chuckled a bit. Sarya smiled sheepishly at him, resumed her soft strokes, then looked back to the king.

Akkar was a nice and pretty young man, but she had to admit she was more entranced by Ulrik at the moment.

The king's fur leggings fell to the grass, and a whimper of surprise left her lips as his massive, veiny cock sprang free. She gaped, for it was far larger than the other savages who had just used her body. Even with the alchemy of Brunloc and the witches, she wasn't sure if she could manage to take such a massive dick.

Ulrik chuckled low in his throat.

"Yes, I know."

"So, my king. How shall we handle this one?" Akkar said softly. His fingers reached out, flicking softly over her left nipple. She fluttered her eyes and arched her back. Ulrik stepped closer, his firm hand grasping her right breast in a firm, possessive grip. She almost melted at the touch, and longed for those rough hands to grip her even harder, to pin her down, to punish her...

"My champions have enjoyed her body in so many different ways thus far," the king growled. "Except for one."

She cocked her head, wondering what she'd meant. Those wild, hungry men had taken everything from her, so what could he be talking about?

The king suddenly laid down upon his back on his thick fur cloak, and she realized what he'd meant. With all the wild fucking she'd just endured, not once had she ever been on top or in any sort of control. She'd just been pinned down, on her back or on her hands and knees, nothing but a passive hole for the savages to ravish.

But she had loved that, of course, but also loved the thought of seeing the strong savage king beneath her.

Sarya looked back to Akkar, still stroking his cock as his fingers lazily teased at her nipples.

"What about you?" she asked the archer in a trembling voice.

His grin broadened, and his hand left her breast and skimmed down along her side, leaving warm tingles in its wake.

"The gods gave you more than one hole, yes?" His calloused hand gripped her soft backside and he gave it a quick squeeze.

Not even on that night had she had two men fuck her at once: the savages had taken turns, or one had used her mouth while another had taken her ass or her sex. She had not yet endured two cocks at once...

She almost drooled at the thought, and Akkar gave her a gentle shove towards the king.

Sarya yelped as she tripped on Ulrik's boots and started to sprawl down towards the man, then squealed as the king deftly caught her, as if she was some light, weak plaything or toy. Smirking, Ulrik's hands gripped her hips and yanked her closer, so her own hips were resting above his stomach, her ass just brushing the tip of his cock.

"Oil," the king snarled, and a shaman tossed him a vial. He popped it open and rubbed it over her stomach and down towards her pussy, the drops smearing over her folds. She shuddered at the icy sensations, then gently took his hand, smearing her fingers with the oil.

Her gaze met his as she reached behind her to grasp his thick rod, and gently began to rub the oil against it.

"Should make it easier for you," he grunted. "But we'll take it slow." He smirked. "At least at first."

Those strong scarred hands gripped her trembling hips and he easily lifted her into the air. She squeaked with surprise, feeling quite helpless, but that helplessness only grew as he easily shifted her about, moving her a bit downwards so her dripping pussy was poised just above his erection.

Shuddering with fear and need, she reached down and grasped just beneath the tip of his shaft and guided it to the sopping entrance to her sex. She stared down at him, bit her lip, then nodded her assent.

The king grinned triumphantly as he slowly lowered her down. The thick crown of his cock split through the lips of her pussy, piercing slowly into her. She threw her head back and wailed at the intrusion; only the alchemy kept it from being a complete eruption of pain. Bliss warred with agony within her as Ulrik continued to lower her down.

She panted and whimpered, her hands reaching down and grasping desperately at his wrists, just for something to hold onto. Her pussy leaked onto that thick cock, mixing with the oil and his precum, making that first slow thrust a bit easier.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she sobbed, and Akkar laughed.

"A bit foul-mouthed for a noblewoman," the archer said from behind her. For the moment, it seemed he was content to watch, but her asshole clenched with anticipation at the thought of him finally joining in.

"Well?" Ulrik growled at the younger man. "Going to punish her for it?"

The scout laughed, stepped closer, and gave her ass a fierce slap. She yelped at the pain, but it helped distruct from the nearly-agonizing sense of fullness as Ulrik continued to lower her down.

Finally, he could go no further, but still had several inches to go. That thick cock seemed to rub at a thousand nerves inside of her that had never been ignited before. Something about the sensation of being so filled had ignited sensations she had never experienced, not even when his champions had so roughly and brutally taken her.

Her nails dug into his wrists, then she sobbed and released him so she could flop forward, collapsing against his chest. She laid there for a moment, simply gasping and trembling and trying to steady herself. Ulrik's thick hands gripped the small of her back, holding her close.

She felt him move: his hips pulled back just a bit, then gave another torturously slow thrust into her. It was a bit easier that time, and easier still with the third thrust, then the fourth.

Ulrik maintained the slow pace, working up against her body while the limp duchess whimpered and shuddered.

"So weak," Ulrik snorted, but he did not sound entirely disappointed.

Had she the strength, she would have tried to raise up to give him the ride of his life, but her body was too busy being a slave to the pleasure inflicted by that cock.

And Akkar's presence was about to complicate things, too...

The young man poured some oil onto his shaft, and she shuddered as a few drops leaked down onto her back. He knelt down right behind her, his hands stroking her sides, holding her steady as she shook above the king.

Ulrik grinned with approval and gripped her hips tightly, holding her helpless and completely still, so Akkar could get into position.

Akkar sighed, clearly admiring her body, and she couldn't help but to smile. The young man was rather sweet...even when she had a king's massive cock inside her.

Akkar's cock brushed between the cheeks of her ass, down towards her back entrance: it had been thoroughly used by other savages, but the alchemy had dulled the pain and discomfort into a lingering sort of pleasure. That lingering pleasure flared and burned as the tip of his dick teased at the puckered ring, then carefully and slowly pushed inside.

She buried her head into Ulrik's neck, suckling and licking to muffle her moans as Akkar pushed deeper into her ass. He let out a halting laugh as she embraced him and tensed around his shaft, inviting him deeper.

The king laughed as well, and raked his fingers down her back.

Sarya drooled against Ulrik's neck: she had never felt more helpless or full. The pleasure was strange and alien, different from the fiery, wild need from a few minutes before. This was different, more complete, and flowed through every fiber of her being.

Akkar's hips finally brushed against her his as he hilted himself deep within her. Neither man moved for a moment, with Akkar panting for breath and steadying himself, while Ulrik was as calm and stone-like as ever.

"All right, there?" Ulrik growled at the scout.

He laughed and nodded, his sweat dripping down onto her back.

"Well," the king went on. "Get to work."

Ulrik's scarred hands gripped her hips tightly, pinning her firmly against him. Akkar's cock pulled back, dragging along her tight, clenching ass. That strange pleasure burned even brighter, and she threw her head back, her curls cascading down over her face. Ulrik brushed her hair out of her face and clutched the back of her neck, forcing Sarya to meet his gaze while Akkar plundered her tender, clenching ass.

Ulrik still had yet to move, and let the younger warrior do all the war. Akkar panted and moaned, and his hips trembled against her soft curves. His noises were softer than the wild grunts and growls of the other warriors, but no less wonderful to her dazed senses.

"Faster," the king snapped.

"Yes," Sarya sobbed. "Faster...please."

Akkar chuckled breathlessly, then took a moment to comply. Those thrusts were still careful, but quickened, driving deeper and faster into her hot, aching hole. She felt him rubbing deep within her, and it was made even more wonderful and intense by the feeling of Ulrik's thick, massive cock completely filling her pussy.

The king reached down, his rough hand brushing over her sweat-slick stomach. Her eyes bulged as his scarred fingers moved to her sex. Those large, rough digits brushed over her folds, just to test and tease her. She whimpered, a jolt of delight tearing through her.

With a cock in her ass, another in her pussy, and now with those fingers...

She didn't have long.

Ulrik smirked up at her and triumph burned in his eyes as his fingers found her clit. He began to rub around it, his fingers circling in perfect timing with Akkar's thrusts.

"You...you make a good team," she sputtered.

"Aye," Ulrik growled. "We do. When it comes to defeating foes or fucking beautiful women, we work well together."

Akkar laughed at that, and leaned down to suckle on her shoulder. Another of his hands reached around, groping her left breast, his fingers roughly clamping against her nipple.

That sharp sensation, along with the thick shafts inside of her and those rough fingers against her clit, finally sent her over the edge. One desperate hand reached down to clutch at Ulrik's neck, while the other reached back, clasping at Akkar's hip, as if to keep him hilted inside of her, to prevent him from leaving her empty.

Sarya let out a short, sharp sob, which quickly rose to a long, shuddering moan. She clamped her eyes shut as fierce, painful trembles ripped through her. Every muscle tensed, every nerve burned, and she was just reduced to a mewling, whimpering and sweating mess of a woman.

Her body went rigid at another pulse of pleasure, then collapsed and she slumped down against the king.

"Take what you need," Ulrik grunted at Akkar. "And then I shall take my due."

The scout nodded and grimped her shaking hips and pressed her even more firmly down against Ulrik. The king's fingers fell away from her sex, but she was so sensitive and alive with bliss that she barely noticed.

The scout grunted and heaved for breath as he worked, ravishing her loosened, sensitive ass. A hand slapped down on her backside, then another gripped her sweaty red hair tightly. Pain erupted in her neck...but she loved it.

"Come on," she begged, needing no encouragement to do so. "Come on, Akkar. Take...take what you need." She licked her lips and bit down on Ulrik's neck to stifle a cry.

The king barely moved, but he did chuckle.

"Use me," she moaned out, the sound muffled a bit. "Fill me with that-"

Before she could even finish her plea, Akkar complied.

The young warrior let out a soft cry, and his hips pressed firmly against her, his cock pushing as deep as it could. Her ass clenched around him in a vice-like grip, as if milking him. She felt him twitch, then felt that warm seed spurt deep inside her backside. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head at the sensation, and a short, almost painful orgasm erupted within her. She twitched and moaned as Akkar's thrusts continued, drawing out his pleasure and hers.

The scout remained inside her for several long, sweaty moments, his shaft still twitching, still adding a few more drops of cum to the mess he'd made inside of her. With a soft, weak groan, he gently pulled out of her, and she whimpered at the sudden emptiness.