The following totally fictitious writings of Faibhar are intended for the
sole readership of those of LEGAL AGE. The ADULT ONLY material contained
within is also for personal use only where local standards permit scenes of
extreme violence, torture and sex. Please do not read further if any of
these subjects offend, or if you are not of legal age.
The following is for your sole enjoyment and your cooperation in not
using the material in any other application without the express permission
of the author is requested.
Thank you.
Faibhar.
The Passions of Zeema
Part Three
"Sure you are getting all of this in your journal, Scribe?"
Galluble didn't have to be asked the question twice. Especially not
from the likes of Julius the Sweet. The subject might be tough, but
writing came easily to the natural wordsmith. Blinking away her own tears
so that she could see clearly turned out to be the greatest challenge as
she detailed the various exploits of her hero and lover, Zeema.
Faithful to the spirit of "Psychomachia", the 16th century collection of
poems by the Spanish author that espoused their breaking away from
traditional roles of women and seeking victory for the greater good and had
led them to this current predicament, Zeema had not given the male
dominated group raping her the satisfaction of screaming out. Her sleek
body instead see-sawed as erect male members thrust into her from both
ends.
The Scribe paused to wipe her forehead before continuing. Despite the
dank surroundings of the subterranean prison, the cell block had gotten
stuffy. As she did, she noticed the bishop mop his brow again and adjust
his miter that had once more slipped to an angle over his bald pate. She
looked to Zeema. Agonies had caused the athletic beauty to weaken. Bare
knees now scraped the rock flooring. The long back bowed as its owner
accepted yet another hard cock thrust into her mouth. By this time,
Galluble noticed, one cock after the next slipped easily into Zeema's or arse.
Julius the Sweet earlier boasted that even he was not too proud to
follow the god Ares though was later disappointed not to find the expected
Ambrosia, plunging his organ into nothing more than ordinary cum. He tried
save face before his party but clearly was deflated and sullenly observed
the others as they took the warrior princess.
He stood next to the perspiring cleric and said after some dozen had had
their fun with the condemned, "Let's try something new, shall we?
Galluble, drop your quill and parchment and come over here. Stand in front
of your messy friend."
Galluble paused for a moment and then did as she was told. She stepped
into the circle and stood over the black crown of Zemma's head. "So. Had
your fun yet? Like it when your women are defenseless?" Her fists bunched
in anger and her voice was tight with fury.
Julius the Sweet laughed heartily. "No, my dear. We have only begun
the traditional execution. Is that night right, bishop?"
The cleric nervously bobbed his affirmation as the governor gripped the
neckline of Galluble's tunic costume and ripped it wide. All in the room,
save Zeema whose lowered head could not see as the scribe's bounced out. Eyes searched her nakedness down to the exposed triangle.
"No need to cover up. In fact, your friend down here wants to have a
look too." He gripped a fistful of the raven mane and jerked Zeema's head
up. A flaking white mask covered the warrior princess's features as her
rose to the same level as Galluble's crotch.
Through matted lashes Zeema said in a low voice, "Do what you want to
me, Pig. But let her go."
"Wished that I could Zeema. But, you see, we want you two to show
us how much you really care for each other and you get to start by using
your tongue."
"Forget that shit. Never!"
"Hmmm, well it seems that our friend Zeema needs a bit of persuading.
Tell me, bitch," Julius the Sweet yanked harder on Zeema's hair, "would you
save your little friend here?" He rapidly unsheathed his dagger and pressed
it on Galluble's neck. "Better do as I say, Zeema, or this one gets
killed. Do you want her blood on your hands?"
The bishop searched his cassock, pretending to feel for his rosary
beads. Tension in the small room had notably risen. The blonde's bare
chest heaved up and down faster as the blade pressed deeper into the side
of her neck. He looked at Zeema. Slowly, the tip of a pink tongue
appeared and stretched forward into the tight mass of curls between
the scribe's legs. Strands of black hair slipped down from the governor's
grip. The tongue disappeared as it began to wind its way into the other
female.
Galluble tensed. First her clothes were ripped, then the knife and now
what she had always wanted seared softly into her. She briefly opened her
clinched eyes and looked down. Zeema's head bobbed into her. She felt the
tongue twist and turn and flick over her most private parts. She closed
her eyes again, parted her lips and sighed. This was hardly the setting
she had dreamed about, but Zeema's power and her own body's reaction
overcame any reluctance. Others in the cell were quickly forgotten.
The bishop forgot all about finding his beads. The sight provided an
epiphany in itself. Slurping sounds and heavy breathing made for a
symphony worthy of any classical music. The short with closed eyes
and full seemed to slightly sway as the black-haired one serviced
her until she balanced on one foot and placed a naked leg atop Zeema's
back. His miter slipped forward and again he pushed it back to better see
the action.
"Sorry to intrude,uhm, ladies," Julius said still gripping hair and
knife, "but we do have something of a schedule for this execution." He
brought the dagger away from the Scribe's throat and let her go. He
watched the drop to her knees and brace Zeema's head between her two
hands. Zeema deeply kissed her back before the two were separated.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Bishop,I say ah Bishop? Hey!"
The senior member of the church awoke from his trance-like state with a
start as he realized that his name was being called.
"That's better. I see that I have at last your attention so tell me,
what's next in our execution for these history buffs, the one who is to
hang is already, in the buff and the other almost there, but anyway, lead
the way. Pray do tell, what's next?"
Stuttering as he fought to regain control, the bishop looked at the
governor and trembled. "Yyyyour Excellency. I believe a scourging is
next."
"Very well then. Let's get this crew up one floor to the torture
chamber."
Julius the Sweet let go of the fistful of hair. Zeema dropped back down
to the stone as soldiers pulled Galluble away and others unlocked chains
around the warrior princess's wrists and ankles.
To Be Continued
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