Elena's Conquest

by Lisette Allen

  ‘No!’ gasped Elena. ‘No - ‘

  ‘Hush’ murmured a twin in her ear. ‘Nothing but pleasure, little one, I promise you.’

  Someone in the circle began the low, murmuring chant again; rhythmic, throbbing, exciting. And a dart­ing tongue had found her tight, secret hole. Even while the twin’s fingers played with her hot, juicy nether lips, sliding lightly past the little bud that quivered and strained for more, his tongue plunged into that shame­ful rear entrance, swirling, licking, thrusting. Elena moaned aloud as the dark pleasure swept through her, feeling the moisture gather and slip over the twin’s big hand as he rubbed his knuckles up and down her churning vulva and pressed his tongue so deliriously deep within her hidden passage.

  Elena caught her breath and went very still as the unfamiliar sensations gathered in her womb and she hovered on the very brink of ecstasy, ready to crash over the edge.

  ‘Stop,’ muttered one of the brothers thickly, abandoning the small breasts he was teasing so deliciously with his oil-softened hands. ‘Stop, damn you, Osric. Can’t you see she’s almost there?’

  Elena wanted to cry out in loss as their hands aban­doned her. She couldn’t bear it, for these two beautiful men to leave her, when she was on the brink of such wickedly ecstatic pleasure … ‘Please!’ she moaned, biting on her lip in her anguish.

  Then cool hands stroked her buttocks, parting them, soothing them. Elena sighed, burying her head in her arms, and felt the trickle of warm oil running down her crease. The gentle but persistent nudging began again at her tight rear entrance; thinking it was Osric’s tongue, she smiled rapturously and thrust towards him.

  With a shock, she realised it wasn’t his tongue, but the velvety head of an engorged penis that was trying to enter her there. Like a blind animal; stubborn, persistent, prodding. No, she protested silently. It was too big!

  Then a hand stroked her softly between her flesh lips, finding the hard bud of pleasure and caressing it, very lightly. Elena shuddered, and gasped aloud as fresh waves of desire racked her body. At the same moment, she felt the engorged phallus slipping through her dark rear hole, sliding deep within her, filling her to bursting and sending a heavy, aching pleasure throbbing through her taut abdomen.

  She went very still with the shock of it, almost afraid to move with this huge, pulsing shaft so deep inside her. The crowd was still murmuring its insistent, almost demonic chant; she felt the watchers’ rising excitement, breathed in the heavy scent of the aromatic flames, like incense numbing her brain, heightening every sen­sation to a level of wild eroticism.

  The beautiful brothers, Wulf and Osric, were stand­ing by her shoulders. Opening her pleasure-hazed eyes, she saw that they were fully erect again, their penises pulsing with glorious life, their testicles tight and hard. They smiled down at her kindly in the shadows and bent to kiss her shoulders, reaching underneath her crouching body to caress and tease her dangling breasts with sweetly pinching fingers.

  And, behind her, the masked man who had so shamefully, so lewdly taken her secret entrance was starting to move.

  Elena cried out as she felt the huge, hard shaft slide relentlessly between her silken walls. A twin bent to kiss her, smothering her cry; she responded wildly as he thrust his tongue deep within her mouth. The masked man’s penis was fully in her now; she realised with a numbing shock that she could feel the rough, hairy skin of his balls dangling against her tender bottom cheeks. And his hand was still sliding up and down her juicy vulva, teasing and stroking that aching cleft.

  The dark waves of pleasure built up relentlessly. Lifting her head, Elena let out a long, low moan. The man behind her, responding to her needs, began to drive his shaft in and out in long, pulsing strokes that penetrated deeply; at the same time he lightly stroked the shaft of her straining pleasure bud, while the two brothers cupped and fondled her oiled, tingling breasts. Clutching blindly at the wonderful phallus that pleasured her so dispassionately, Elena felt her whole body come to a trembling standstill; felt the huge, cataclysmic orgasm rack her quivering flesh in wave after wave of rapture mingled with an agonised sense of shame as the mysterious man behind her gripped her buttocks fiercely and drove himself to his own wild climax. She heard him grunt harshly deep in his throat as he jerked and spasmed deep within that forbidden passage.

  Melting in the afterglow of forbidden pleasure, Elena collapsed limply on the cool stone slab, aware of the hot, hungry eyes from the firelit circle watching her avidly, longing to share in her rapturous release. The twins continued to caress her gently, their own huge erections almost weeping with tormented desire as they stroked her lovely, flushed breasts. Gently, they turned Elena round and lifted her shoulders so that she was sitting up on the stone, blinking dizzily into the firelit shadows.

  The masked man stood before her, at the foot of the stone slab. As she’d always known, it was he who’d pleasured her in that wonderful, shameful way. But who was he? His cloak still covered his tall, powerful body, but as she gazed up at him, desperately trying to frame her question, he slowly took off the bronze mask.

  She gasped, ‘Leofwin’

  Gently, Leofwin the Saxon wrapped her in his cloak and carried her back to the clearing, laying her gently on a soft straw pallet in his own shelter.

  ‘My Saxon princess,’ he said tenderly. ‘You’re safe now.’

  So Elena became one of the outlaws. During the next few days, she learned how to snare rabbits and skin them; how to mend the rough, homespun clothing; and how to make bread for them all, by heating large flat stones in the fire and placing round cakes of unleavened rye dough on the surface until they were cooked. Freya helped her to learn, and was always kind and friendly. But Sahild watched her with narrowed eyes, and hardly ever spoke to her.

  At night, Elena slept in Leofwin’s arms. He was a strong, tender lover, and there was no hint of the mysterious, almost sinister rites that had marked her first night in the forest. She felt safe, and shut her mind to the past, trying not to think of Aimery the Breton.

  Then, early one evening in the soft shadows of dusk, she was going down to the pool to bathe the heat of the day from her limbs when she saw something in the bushes that made her freeze. A man, sprawled on the ground with Sahild.

  All the men had gone out hunting for the day, except for Leofwin, who had injured his ankle slightly in an expedition the day before. But - what was Leofwin doing with Sahild?

  It soon became obvious.

  Leofwin was sprawled back on the mossy turf, his eyes closed in ecstasy, his legs spread wide. Sahild was crouched over his hips, her back to Elena. She shifted slightly, giving Elena a clearer vision; and what she saw made her senses swim. Because Leofwin’s huge penis, darkly, erect, was rearing up from his disarrayed clothes, and Sahild was sucking and licking him enthusiastically, diving her lips over his flesh, gripping the base of his thick shaft and making strange little moaning noises in the back of her throat. Leofwin, who had made passionate love to her only last night.

  Feeling sick with betrayal, Elena whirled round to go, and almost fell into the arms of Wulf, who stood behind her. His strong hands fastened round her shoulders. ‘Wait,’ he said.

  Elena’s hands pummelled frantically at his broad chest. ‘Let me go!’ she whispered blindly. ‘Damn you, Wulf - let me go!’

  He held on to her, ignoring her wild struggles. ‘Listen, Elena,’ he said, in a low, urgent voice. ‘Leofwin loves you. We all love you. This is the way we live in the forest. Didn’t you realise, after that first night?’

  She stopped struggling, and stared blankly up at him.

  That dark, erotic ceremony on her first night here. She’d tried to push it to the back of her mind. Pretended it had never happened, would never happen again. This is the way we live in the forest.

  Her heart thudded as she gazed up at him. He was so young, only about her age - so handsome and carefree and kind. That first night, she’d seen him and his brother making love to Sahild down by the stream, and then
they’d both caressed her, so beautifully, while the masked Leofwin stood waiting in the shadows.

  Already aroused by the sight of Leofwin’s depravity, Elena felt moist and hot; her stomach churned. With his sun-streaked blond hair and his laughing blue eyes set wide apart in his suntanned face, he set her pulse racing in a way he shouldn’t.

  His hands had slipped now from her shoulders to her breasts. Lightly, still gazing into her eyes, he caressed her tender nipples until they peaked and thrust beneath her tunic. She trembled suddenly with wanting him.

  He was smiling down at her, his palms rubbing flatly along her breasts, sending whirling, fiery sensations through her body. ‘You called me Wulf’ he said softly. ‘How did you know it was me, and not my brother?’

  Hypnotised by his gaze, she whispered, The little mark - the white scar at the base of your throat, shaped like an arrowhead. I noticed it on the first night, when - when -’

  ‘When Osric and I made love to you?’ His hands had slipped round the back of her waist; he held her very close, so she could feel the hot, hard arousal at his loins.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And did you enjoy it? I wonder, which one of us did you want the most?’ He put his head teasingly on one side, lifting his eyebrows so engagingly that Elena found herself smiling breathlessly in response.

  ‘Both of you,’ she whispered, her heart racing. ‘Oh, both of you.’

  He laughed in response, his teeth gleaming whitely in his suntanned face. ‘You should have said - you. You, Wulf! Just you! - For that, I fear, I shall have to punish you, sweet Elena. When the time comes …’ He smiled, a smile full of secret promise. Suddenly she realised that she didn’t mind now about Leofwin and Sahild. This is the way we live.

  Her body tingled with excitement; Wulf drew her closer, his breath warm on her cheek.

  Then they jumped apart as the mingled sound of heavy footsteps and raised, excited voices came crash­ing through the forest towards them. Gyrth and his men were back from their expedition. Reluctantly Wulf led Elena towards them. ‘Good hunting?’ he enquired laconically.

  ‘Good hunting indeed!’ Gyrth clapped him on the back, scarcely able to restrain his excitement. ‘A Norman baggage train, no less! Wine, wheat, even some gold. All on its way to York, where they’ll miss it sorely!’ He gestured proudly towards the two laden pack ponies that the other men were starting to unload. ‘We’ve brought back as much as we could. This calls for a feast! Where’s Leofwin?’

  ‘I’ll fetch him’ said Wulf diplomatically, flashing a reassuring smile at Elena.

  That night they sat down to a feast of roasted venison and fine wheat cakes that Freya had baked. The men were drinking the heady French wine they’d captured; Elena only sipped at it, but already she could feel it pulsing warmly through her blood. The outlaws were quaffing it down as if it were ale, recounting again and again how they’d ambushed the Norman supply wagons on their way north from Lincoln.

  The shadows lengthened, and tiny bats swooped in the trees overhead. The fire crackled hypnotically, and the smell of the venison filled the air with its savoury perfume.

  Sahild too was drinking like a man. Her eyes gleamed jealously in the light of the fire as she listened to their stories; she leaned forward intently and said, T should have been with you, Gyrth! Why didn’t you take me? I’d have killed them all!’ She licked her lips. ‘After I’d made them suffer, of course.’

  Elena shivered at the girl’s quiet venom. Leofwin, who had pulled her down beside him as if the episode with Sahild had never existed, put his arm round her, and she was glad to lean into his quiet strength. But Elena knew that Leofwin too was under the influence of the wine, and inflamed by his men’s success. As if a kind of subtle blood lust gripped them all, they sat in their shadowy circle round the fire, watching Sahild with baited breath.

  Wulf said softly, ‘How? How would you make them suffer, Sahild?’

  Kneeling upright, conscious that she had everyone’s attention, Sahild drew out the dagger she always carried at her belt. The moon sparkled down on her cropped silver hair and her beautiful elfin face. Her wide blue eyes seemed dazed by her own dark imagination. Slowly, she inverted the dagger and began to stroke its thick, ribbed pommel between her thighs. Elena gasped aloud; everyone else had gone very still.

  Sahild rolled over luxuriously onto her back, and raised her knees. She wore a soft leather tunic, and deerskin boots that clung to her calves; her lithe, sun­tanned legs were bare. As her tunic fell back over her hips, they saw that she wore nothing beneath her tunic; her pink secret flesh glistened damply between her slim thighs. Her eyes closing in rapture, she gently positioned the rounded hilt of the dagger between her silken flesh lips, and slid the metal slowly in, her face flushing with pleasure.

  Osric leaned over her, watching raptly. ‘Is that how you’d torment the Normans, Sahild? Don’t you think they might - enjoy it?’

  She slanted a wicked grin up at him. Her breathing was short and shallow. ‘I’d say - can you do as well as this soldier? Can you fill me with a shaft as solid as this steel? Can you - oh!’

  Suddenly she broke off as Freya, who’d been watch­ing avidly in the shadows, jumped up and moved swiftly to crouch over her friend. With nimble fingers, Freya took the dagger’s hilt in her own hand and started to pleasure Sahild gently, rubbing the hilt between Sahild’s parted legs, while Sahild moaned and writhed on the soft grass. She pulled her tunic high above her head; greedily Freya dipped her head and began to suck and lick at the girl’s suntanned, pointed little breasts. She circled the nipples lasciviously with her tongue, while still sliding the rounded metal pommel sleekly in and out of her pink, juicy love channel. Sahild began to moan and whimper, on the verge of explosion; while the men sat round silently in a circle, their hungry expressions lit up by the flickering fire as they waited.

  Elena, overwhelmed by the erotic tension, jumped up suddenly, freeing herself from Leofwin’s imprison­ing arm, and ran blindly away from the lewd scene. She found herself down by the little stream; breathing hard in the gathering darkness, she crouched down to bathe her burning face in the cool’ water.

  She heard soft footsteps coming up behind her. She felt strong hands on her shoulders, firm fingers that crept round from behind to stroke her breasts, caressing her stiffening nipples. She whirled round, the blood hot in her face. ‘Wulf!’

  He smiled softly in the darkness, and she melted. His hands slid round her waist, pulling her up to his hard, muscular body; he bent his head and kissed her deeply, languorously, his sensitive tongue stroking and probing round the soft silken flesh of her mouth.

  Elena pushed at his chest, gasping for breath. ‘No -we shouldn’t - Leofwin …’

  Wulf smiled again. ‘Leofwin sent me,’ he said.

  ‘And me,’ added Osric, emerging out of the shadows.

  She glanced wildly from one to the other. Already they were lifting their tunics over their heads, unfasten­ing their hose from around their slim, muscular hips, so that she could glimpse their dark, erect phalluses. She backed away, trembling with excitement. ‘No! Someone might see us!’

  ‘The others,’ said Osric calmly, ‘will be totally occu­pied with Freya and Sahild by now.’

  ‘But we,’ said Wulf softly, stepping forward to remove Elena’s clothes, ‘are for you, sweet Elena.’

  She gasped and shuddered as her gown slipped to the floor and she felt Wulf’s hot, silken penis rubbing against her belly. He bent to kiss her again, and she clung to him weakly, feeling the hard, rippling strength of his beautiful, suntanned body, the long strength of his heavy, shapely legs. And now Osric was behind her, lifting her long hair and kissing her shoulders, while his own engorged shaft rubbed tenderly at her bottom cheeks, nuzzling between her thighs.

  Already she was pulsing wet, aching with excitement, her clitoris quivering. Gently they laid her on the soft turf, and kneeled, one on either side of her, their faces amused and tender. With both hands, she grasped t
heir twin penises in delight, caressing and stroking those two magnificent pillars of flesh that waited to do her homage, reaching up to take each one’s tip in her mouth, swallowing and licking greedily while the hot hunger churned in her loins.

  It was almost dark. She could see the wicked gleam in their dancing blue eyes as they looked at one another and nodded. Then one of them - she thought it was Wulf, but she couldn’t be sure - kneeled between her legs, facing her, and lifted her hips gently. He licked his finger and ran it moistly down her slippery cleft, up and down, sliding teasingly past her twitching pleasure bud; she moaned aloud, and he gave a secret smile as he gripped his massively erect shaft and slid it slowly into her. She shouted aloud at the pleasure, gripping hungrily at the hot flesh that nudged its way in, possessing her so beautifully.

  Then the other twin - Osric? - crouched astride her head, facing his brother, so that the musky, masculine scent of him excited her nostrils, and her whole vision was filled by the coarse, velvety flesh of his balls and the veined underside of his throbbing penis. Gently, he lowered himself over her, caressing and pinching her breasts with his fingers; until, with a little gasp, she felt his hairy sac kiss her soft lips, and instinctively she began to lick and caress him there with her tongue.

  All her flesh, all her senses quivered in reaction to the two men pleasuring her. Wulf’s fine penis drove deeply into her; Osric’s fingers tugged and tweaked at her nipples, his balls exciting her soft lips. When Wulf’s finger slid once more across her hungry clitoris, she moaned aloud, and heard her high, delirious cry of ecstasy echoing round the trees as he slowly, deliber­ately pumped himself into her and wickedly teased that tight, hard little bud, while Osric squeezed her nipples, tenderly.