by Loki Renard
“Leave,” she growled between clenched teeth. “Or I will make you.”
There were no more words after that point. The wild men charged toward the cabin. She managed to slam the door in their faces, but they pounded upon it and drove it backwards against its rudimentary hinges.
She grabbed for a piece of parchment and scratched on it with a quill, which mercifully still contained a few traces of wet ink.
WOLDRING
She wrote frantically, drawing the letters of the word out of her memory as best she could with the feral men bashing at the door. They had surrounded the cabin and were slamming their fists and weapons against the walls, not quite understanding the concept of doors.
The latch was giving way as she grabbed one of William’s works in progress, a sharp rock knife. The door burst open, fell off its hinges, and was trampled by the careless feet of a half dozen wild men. They rushed her with rough hands, earning themselves cuts from her knife. She was fierce, but one knife was not enough to repel them all. Inevitably, the knife was struck from her hand and she was bound like a pig, hands together, feet together.
She shouted her rage, but nobody cared. Wild men did not concern themselves with the feelings of those they hunted, animal or human. They hauled her out of the cabin between two men, laughing and comparing wounds. Far from dissuading them with her vicious defense, she had done nothing but given them something to be proud of. Her struggles were furious, but although her bonds were primitive, they were just as effective as any restraints forged in the city.
Strange how she had been put in crates, trained like a pet, and still it was less dehumanizing than the treatment these wildlings were bestowing upon her. Not one of them had made any form of connection with her, not one of them had checked if her bonds were too tight or if she could breathe comfortably. They were treating her with no more care than a sack of meat, less care really, because a sack of meat would have required more care lest it spill its load.
“William!” She cried his name at the top of her lungs. “William!”
There was no reply from the silent forest.
*
William knew something was wrong long before he entered the clearing. The forest was too quiet, and the closer he got to the cabin, the quieter it got. When he stepped through the trees, he saw that the earth had been disturbed around the cabin and the door was missing. Restraining the urge to run toward the house, he first made sure that there was nobody still around. An attack had clearly taken place. Sarah was nowhere to be seen, but she could have been hiding nearby.
Further investigation revealed that the house had barely been touched aside from the door being broken down. His heart sank when he saw the note. It wasn’t difficult to put the pieces together. She had been taken. The results of the struggle were obvious, including blood congealing in big hand prints on the walls.
Cursing under his breath, William looked to where the trail of heavy footprints led into the forest. Their trail was so obvious they may as well have paved a road. Grabbing a few more supplies, he followed it into the gathering dusk.
The wildling village was not difficult to find, even in the darkness. Two hours of walking later and he came upon the place where torches were flamed high, and drummers beat skin-covered rounds to great effect amidst whooping cries and animal grunts. William crept up carefully, but he need not have worried about being spotted. The wildlings were gathered around a bonfire in the center of the village, and completely distracted by the orgy in which they were all partaking.
Naked bodies writhed as men plunged their cocks into the willing bodies of nubile women. It was like watching a rainbow copulate, there were so many bright variations of hair and eye color, greens and reds and blues and everything in between. Not a scrap of clothing was in evidence. Great flagons of liquid lay about the place, slung occasionally into the mouths of men and women who had finished their carnal embraces. After replenishing their liquids they found new partners and began coupling all over again.
To his great relief, he did not see Sarah amongst the women. There were eight women taking part in the ceremonies, and at least twice that many men. Each of the women seemed not only willing to service two or more men, but eager to take as many as possible. William watched astonished as one nubile woman took a position on her hands and knees, straddling a man lying down. She lowered herself down on his cock, then another man came up behind her and pressed himself into her bottom hole, while a third took a position at her head. She was soon filled with three men, all using her for their sexual gratification. There was an animal urgency in the way their sweating, heaving bodies ground against one another, each man taking what he wanted with fast hard thrusts.
Across the clearing, another woman had her hands against a tree, her breasts bouncing as an ardent lover fucked her roughly from behind. One hand was clamped on her hip, the other around the back of her neck as he slid into her to the very hilt. He shot his load and moved away after slapping her bottom, making way for another man who slid his cock right into her and started rutting away with impunity.
Sarah’s location remained a mystery, but given how distracted the wild ones seemed to be, William thought it was a good opportunity to sneak in and find her. The village was comprised of several huts. Some of them were obviously family dwellings, the largest dwelling at the rear of the village was probably where the chief lived. There were also several smaller houses, more sturdily built and perhaps more likely to contain a prisoner.
He began shifting through the shadows, looking for any signs of a struggle that would indicate where Sarah had been taken, but before he could investigate properly, the intensity of the drums increased, thudding percussion rising to a tense crescendo broken when they suddenly stopped and silence flooded the village.
“Bring the sacrifice!”
A hut door swung open. Sarah was hauled out between two strong men, both of whom looked worse for wear after having been in her company. There was not a mark on her as far as William could tell. He breathed a sigh of relief as he realized she was still fully clothed in leggings and tunic. No real harm seemed to have befallen her.
“Strip her!”
The two men holding Sarah hesitated. William knew that hesitation; it was the mind questioning the body’s ability to handle the woman without being seriously harmed. They were right to worry; less than a second later Sarah bit the wild man to her right, her sharp teeth flashing dangerously as she drew blood.
There was a gasp of surprise, mainly from the wildling women. Even amongst her own kind, Sarah was something of a misfit. William felt his affection for her growing all the more as she bit down again, inflicting a second wound. It was time to intervene.
“Unhand her!” He strode into the clearing, stone axe held high in blatant threat.
The wild tribe reacted almost as one organism. The women fled to the back of the group and the men clustered close. Sarah bit her captors with even more fury. They seemed happy to release her, almost as happy as she was to run to him.
He caught her in his arms and held her close, looking over her head at the men. None seemed pleased by the intrusion.
“We will leave now,” William announced. “And you will leave us in peace.”
“That woman is ours!” The statement came from a man who seemed to be the leader, judging by his erect painted penis. They were all painted, but he was the most painted. He was also the one who looked as though he might seriously try to take Sarah back.
“This woman is mine,” William replied, speaking as they did. “I claimed her long ago.”
There was a muttering in the crowd, and several other wildling men stepped up to whisper in their leader’s ear. There was a lot of nodding, then the leader spoke again.
“If she is yours, then she will allow you to mate with her. She will take your rod in her flower. Show us.”
Sarah looked up at him, her eyes widening. “They want us to have sex in front of them.”
“They do.” W
illiam was not certain as to what their next move should be. There was no doubt that he could fight his way out of the wildling tribe, along with Sarah, but that would come with consequences. Not only would he have to harm the people of the wilds, but he and Sarah would also have to abandon their home. It would be impossible to live in peace with a hostile tribe nearby.
“Well then,” Sarah arched a playful brow and reached down to squeeze his cock through his pants.
He was surprised at her eagerness, but he quickly realized that he shouldn’t be. Sarah had never been shy. She had never been concerned about nudity, or bashful about sex. She seemed to feel no shame. Shame was too civilized a notion for a woman so wild she intimidated a tribe.
Even as her hand massaged his cock into life, he couldn’t help thinking how fascinating the whole experience was. Obviously this tribe soothed its social ills through sexual intercourse. He would have to make copious notes on their customs later. For the moment, there was but one thing to do: make love to his lustful mate who was already drawing down his pants.
William bared his body as Sarah shed her clothing, standing proudly naked in the fire glow. There was a hush of admiration as her figure was revealed, curvaceous and strong. Her breasts stood proudly as she thrust her shoulders back, her nipples erect with excitement.
There could be no doubt that she was enjoying the moment, the exhibitionism of it all. She displayed herself as proudly as any mating bird might, and when he kissed her she returned it passionately, her tongue entwining with his as he gripped her cheeks, pulled her hard against his body and spread them so her pussy and bottom were displayed to the eager eyes surrounding them.
The wild villagers had relaxed and began to group up again, caressing one another as they watched William and Sarah entwine themselves in a passionate embrace as the last remnants of William’s clothing fell away.
Another sound of admiration rose from the watching wild ones. They seemed very appreciative of his physique displayed as it was in all its erect glory. Sarah slid down his body and took his cock in her mouth without being bidden. She wrapped her lips around the flared head and played the tip of her tongue across the underside. Watching her, William felt a surge of pride that was perhaps out of place. After all, they were putting on a sexual show for a tribe of complete strangers. It should have been an awkward, nerve-wracking encounter. Instead he was enjoying it as much as Sarah was. She gazed up at him, her mouth full of his hardness, her eyes full of lustful need as she worked her lips and tongue around his swelling member.
He could barely contain himself, the tingling in his balls was growing by the second and he knew he would spill his seed down her throat if he did not stop.
“Mmmm,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “Let me taste you now.”
He lay her down on the shed clothing, spread her thighs, and exposed her beautiful perfect slit. Her lips were puffy with arousal, her juices coating her inner thighs. Her arousal bore with it a tantalizing scent that drew him in. Lowering his head, he licked her lips softly. Sarah moaned and squirmed, lifting her hips so his tongue dove deeper. Her taste was exquisite and intoxicating, so much that he felt his cock as hard as a diamond, throbbing between his thighs.
Running his hands under her bottom and down under her legs, he sat up on his knees. The head of his cock pointed toward her wet opening. Her soft pink dew-covered lips were engorged, parting naturally in preparation for the coming intrusion. Holding her hips, he drew her toward his cock, sliding her hot little ass up over his thighs until the head of his cock brushed her pussy. That brief soft, wet touch sent him over the edge. There was no holding back anymore, but he still maintained control as he slid into the woman who was his lover, his mate, his life.
There was a cheer from the wild ones as he penetrated her pussy, her bare wet lips spreading around his cock, gleaming with the glow of the fire. He sank inside her slowly, enjoying the way her walls gripped him. Her juices were flowing in rivulets over the length of his cock as he moved her back and forth along the length of his shaft. It was a slow fucking, more romantic and gentle than the traditional copulation of the wild ones, but it was just as effective at making his mate moan and shiver.
*
The wild ones soon resumed their carnal festivities with even more exuberance. Grunts and moans rose around them as they made love, William’s strokes getting faster and harder as he rose above Sarah and thrust more vigorously, claiming her completely. She wrapped her legs around his lower back, locking him in place. Her head was thrown back, her mouth open as she wailed her pleasure.
Kept in the dark little hut, she had heard the ceremonies start, and peeking through the holes in the door, she had seen the wildlings mating with one another. It had made her wet from the outset, the primal ritual evoking a slickness between her thighs that was still flowing.
William pounded hard and long; every stroke drove her closer to the stars above, made her part of the heaving, panting, moaning, grinding tribe all around them. There was connection in the ceremony, an understanding that was shared by every soul in the village center. Seed was being spilled, muscles were contracting in rippling orgasm, and bonds of community were being cemented.
She felt his hands shift, releasing her for a moment. “Turn over.”
Moving onto her hands and knees, she felt him move behind her, one hand slapping her bottom as the other went to the back of her head. He pushed her face toward their discarded clothing, tipping her bottom higher. Her pussy was exposed, cool night air tingling against the wet petals. When his hot, thick cock slid back inside her she welcomed it with a moan and a breathless plea for him to take her.
“I’m going to fuck your bottom,” he breathed against her ear. “I’m going to cum inside your ass.”
His fingers were swirling around her tight little hole, pressing in time with the words. The promise was physical as well as verbal and Sarah soon felt her body giving way to his carnal intent. Her juices made for ample lubricant as he fingered her bottom, drawing attention from the surrounding people. When he pressed the head of his thick cock against her ass and started pushing, all eyes were on them.
“They’re going to watch you have your bottom fucked,” he murmured in her ear as the thickness of his head breached the tight ring of muscle and slid slowly inside.
She had always found anal sex embarrassing for reasons she could not explain, but having her ass stretched around William’s cock while men and women looked on in approval was more than she could take. Her clit felt as though it might burst from tingling excitement as they once more took center stage and she surrendered completely to William’s will.
He fucked her with long, slow strokes, delving deep with masterful care. Her pussy was still leaking juices as he claimed her ass, taking her through a series of rippling climaxes that made her pulse and wail as his fingers danced across the tingling bud of her clit. She came so many times she lost count, each and every one of her orgasms drawn from her while his thick cock plundered her bottom.
The orgy went on into the wee hours of the morning, until the sun began to rise and the sky grew lighter through the treetops. Sarah woke up not knowing she’d ever fallen asleep. She was still naked and wrapped in William’s arms, content and happy.
A wild woman with bare breasts and a skirt made of spun woolen fibers approached them with some flatbread and a few boiled eggs. “Eat well,” she said, presenting the food on a broad leaf.
Sarah reached for an egg. “Are they feeding us because they don’t want their prisoners to die of starvation, or because we’re not their prisoners anymore?”
“Well, I don’t see any guards or ropes,” William shrugged, giving her a hug as he started eating. “I’m not an expert on being a prisoner, but I think we’re free.”
“I think we are,” Sarah agreed, kissing his hairy cheek. “Wild and free.”
He winked at her and agreed. “Wild and free.”
Chapter Eight
With the wi
ld tribe on their side, life became much more social for Sarah. She had never known her own people before. It was nice to be greeted with warm smiles when she walked in their village, and it was nice to know that she and William were not entirely alone.
William had of course immediately embarked on a mission to teach the wild tribe about the wonders of horticulture and written communication. The gardening they were taking to with some limited success. The writing, not so much. No matter how much he insisted upon its use, they insisted on talking to one another rather than scribbling notes in clay. It was a source of continual amusement for Sarah.
“See,” William lectured one of the wildlings, a man with bright green locks and fuchsia eyes who had messed up William’s carefully planned village garden by planting all manner of things in all manner of places. “If you wrote this down, you wouldn’t have to tell me about it. And you wouldn’t have to remember what you planted where.”
“I’ll know what I planted when the plants come up,” the wildling said, completely unconcerned. “It will be written on their leaves.”
“Leaves die,” William said. “Words don’t.”
The wildling gave him a curious look of incomprehension. “I see leaves, not words.”
“Words are for the air.” Another wildling joined in the discussion.
“But you can catch the words when you write them down,” William tried to explain.
“Catch words, ha!” The wildling began flailing at the air as if trying to catch invisible words. “They’re escaping! Catch the words!”
Sarah watched, giggling as William shook his head and gave up. The wildlings weren’t stupid people, but they did refuse to care about that which did not matter. No amount of lecturing or cajoling could change that. The wildlings hunted, gathered, and copulated and they were not interested in changing their lifestyles.
