The Master of Her Fate

The Master of Her Fate

Chapter 9: The Preparation.

The next day, Garshan rose early and went out among his men as the sun was coming up. The time taken out to enjoy his new wife had been very nice, but he could not afford to rest any longer. There was a narrow window of time before the rest of the world noticed that Wayguard was no longer being heard from, perhaps a month at most, and he had to act during that time. The barbarian horde was gathered together before their Warlord, and he felt a fierce swell of pride as he looked out over them. This was without a doubt the finest fighting force in all the world, and all because of him. There was nothing he couldn't do with men like this at his side.

"People of the North!" he said, his deep voice booming out to the ears of every man there. "We have won a great victory, the first step on our path to becoming the greatest nation that ever was." He paced back and forth slowly in front of his men, looking savage and majestic in his fine mail, with that monstrous axe on his back. "But we cannot rest, for our enemies to the South will soon move against us. It is not enough to control the north, as we now do. The barbarian peoples have always done that, for it is a place that no one else is strong enough of mind or body to live in, and so no one tries to take it from us." There were a few agreeing snickers in the crowd at his description of southerners. Garshan stopped with his arms crossed behind his back and looked back out over the crowd again, and instantly there was silence.

"We will press the attack against the South, and we will do it against their greatest stronghold: Daman, the Jewel of the Plains." Quite a few eyes widened, for even the most isolated barbarian tribe had heard of that great city. Garshan smiled grimly at their shock.

"I see in your eyes that you wonder how we can do this. To attack them head-on, as is the barbarian way, would be suicide. They have wizards and siege weapons that render the strength of a man's arm useless and cowardly slay him from miles away. No, a head-on attack is impossible. . . but even the greatest beast can be slain by one man if you weaken it enough first." Garshan stared out over the men, making eye contact with as many of them as he could, and the fire in his green eyes bolstered any confidence in danger of failing. How could they fail with this warrior leading them?

"As warriors weaken a Great White Bear with arrows before it is killed by the spear, so we will weaken Daman from within before we take it. I ask now for five hundred men to come forward, men willing to put aside their ingrained ways and learn a new method of killing one's enemies." He could see the entire horde tensing eagerly, ready to volunteer, and he held up a hand. "I must warn you. This will not be an honorable fight. The men of the south have no honor, and they fight to win, regardless of what cowardly measures must be taken. To defeat them, we must do the same. The men who I select will learn to act as men of the south do. They will imitate their womanly ways to the smallest detail." Much of the eagerness had drained out of the army already. "In order that they not fail, they will have to submit to training from our newly conquered slaves in the ways of speaking and acting. They will have to submit to insults from what in the south would be considered their betters, and do it with a smile on their face. However. . ." He paused, and let a bit of hope build back up in the men, who were beginning to look very unhappy. "In the end, they will be the ones in the position of greatest honor. For this men will infiltrate Daman and find it's weaknesses. They will learn where the wizards are, learn their limits, and learn how to destroy the seige weapons that surround it. Then, when they have learned enough, they will use this knowledge to destroy those things and leave the Damani with but one way to fight: ours." A savage smile came to his face. "And as we all know, when we fight our way. . . none can defeat us." Now the smiles were back on the faces of the men, as they comtemplated the slaughter of weak southerners.

"So come now, all who would brave a few months of humiliation for a lifetime of honor." He stepped back and folded his arms, and slowly, men began to come forward. There were more volunteers than he had anticipated, over a thousand, all moving forward to kneel at their Warchief's feet and commit themselves to his plan. For over two hours the oaths were sworn, in the barbarian fashion, with the men promising to die trying if they could not succeed. When at last all were pledged, he told them to go to the palace where once Anna's father had lived. There, they would receive further instructions.

* * *

Annalyssa sat on the bed in her room, absently brushing her hair, and took a review in her mind of all that had happened in the last few days. She had been deflowered, beaten, tied up, and humiliated in more ways than she could count, and yet she was happier than she had ever been. As she ran the brush through her hair, she wondered why that was. How could it possibly be that, even as they forced her into all manner of unnatural (and delicious) acts of passion, her Master and his wives seemed to care more about her than her family in the castle had? For they truly did. Every time she looked into Tharona and Nakree's eyes, or felt the possessive way they touched her body, she knew she was special to them. That went double for the warlord. She knew, in a way that she really couldn't explain, that she was a treasured posession of his, that he would do everything in his power to make her happy, and that he would die to keep her safe. It filled her with warmth and disturbed her slightly as well, because her logical side kept protesting. There was no way she could possibly know that with certainty. He hadn't even told her his name yet, for God's sake! Yet when she looked into those incredible eyes, she felt she was staring into his soul, and the conviction was unshakeable.

While she paused to pull a few loose hairs from the thick brush, Anna wondered where he'd gone this morning. She had been very unhappy when she woke up and he wasn't there, far more than she should be after only three days. The bed felt cold and empty without him, and last night Nakree and Tharona had slept in their own beds as well, so that hers was totally empty in the mornings. All of them had been well-sated yesterday, and so the evening before she had simply fallen asleep in her Master's arms, an act that was somehow just as intimate and pleasurable as lovemaking. Anna raised the brush back to her hair with a smile on her face as she remembered it, and then paused as she heard a heavy footfall outside her door. It was him! Quickly she put the brush down and tried to compose herself so that it didn't look like she'd just woken up (which she had), but he entered the door as she was patting down her hair. His beautiful eyes fixed on hers and held her spellbound as always, while a smile spread across his face.

"You slept late," he said, crossing the room and sitting beside her. She started to come to his arms, but them he bent to unlace his boots and she forced herself to be stil, letting him get comfortable. "And I didn't even tire you out last night." His words were playful, and Anna blushed. She wouldn't mind a little tiring out right now. She wondered idly, as he took his boots off and then exposed that godly upper body by sliding off his hauberk, if all virgins were this insatiable after they had their first taste of pleasure. Surely her desire to rip his clothes off and devour his manhood every time she saw him wasn't -that- unusual? He slid his trousers off and her eyes moved downwards, making her heart begin to beat faster. Anna realized with a start that he was talking again, and that she'd been so busy looking at his body that she hadn't heard it. Blushing furiously, and with a bit of fear in her voice, she said,

"I'm sorry, Master. w-what did you say?"

His eyes narrowed for a moment, and he looked irritated, but then he saw the half-glazed look in her eyes and realized what she'd been doing. "Control your eyes, Anna, or I'll have to cover them for you." His tone said that he didn't mind her staring a bit, though. "Hear, let me make it easier." He moved around behind her on the bed, settling down so that she sat between his legs, with her back to his stomach. The warlord wrapped one big arm around her waist and pulled her back against him, then leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"I said, I wish to know the names of the people in this city who train young nobles in etiquette." The rather mundane words shouldn't have been arousing, but his voice was husky in a way that definitely didn't fit with what he was saying, and his lips were brushing her ear. She gasped, shivered, and marveled at his skill. He could probably tell her about a day of doing letters and make it the most thrilling thing in the world. "I know they have schools and people set specifically aside for that purpose."

It was true, they did. Wayguard was a large enough fifedom that it had it's own little school of governesses, and also a contingent of diplomats, all of whom could train people in noble manners. If her body wasn't quite so heated and her loins not throbbing quite so hard, she might have wondered why he wanted to know this. Right now, she didn't care in the slightest.

"T-the Noble Way school for Young Ladies a-and the Gentleman's Barracks," she said breathlessly. It was getting hard to focus enough to talk, because she could feel his manhood rising against her back, and she wanted it badly. "Matron H-harcourt and Sir Ronald M-mathadon were in charge."

The warlord nodded, and she began to pant slightly as she felt his hand creeping around the curve of her hip. "Good girl," he whispered, those amazing words that sent chills through her. "That's all I need to know." His fingers found her womanhood and she moaned softly as he touched her. "Now. Enough of business." The Master lowered her to the bed and rolled her onto her stomach. "My breakfast was hurried and unsatisfying this morning. I will have a proper one now." His lips caressed the back of her neck as his strong hand held her hair deliciously out of the way, and she could barely speak as she replied.

"W-what would you. . . like. . , M-master?" she gasped. Feeding him his meals was her wifely duty, after all. She had some other purpose than being ravished over and over (much as she loved that.)

He chuckled against her skin, the sound making wonderful shivers trace themselves down her body, and replied, "You, Annlyssa. You are the most delicious thing I can think of." Slowly, he began to kiss his way down her back. He didn't move in a straight line, but rather let his lips wander all across her skin, tracing the outlines of her small shoulder blades, kissing along the curve of her slim waist, and moving back up to nibble her neck. Her breath hitched and stuttered as he did, gasp after gasp coming uncontrollably from her lips. She was quite sure the wetness from her heated loins had soaked through the furs beneath her all the way to the wooden bedframe. Those same furs rubbed in delicious ways on her clit, making her burn all the hotter for him. His hands brushed down her sides, fingers dragging delciously over her skin, and she pressed her face into the bed to stifle a moan.

"Oooh. . . Master. . ." she whispered, her voice soft and full of passion. He growled against the small of her back in that wonderful way that she knew meant he was highly aroused, and she moaned again. The warlord slid down lower, his lips moving down onto her bottom now. Anna was no longer sore from her spanking two nights ago (he had known just how to make it sting without making it bruise in ugly ways), but his mouth down there brought back memories of the pain, which made this all the more delicious. He kissed back and forth across her firm cheeks, making her giggle softly, and then she groaned as he sank his teeth into one. It was a light bite, barely enough to leave a mark, but the pain in that spot that, somehow, made pain into pleasure drove her wild.

"M-master. . . p-please. . ." she whispered, and for once he didn't make her beg any longer. The warlord placed both of his hands on her bottom and gently spread her cheeks, lifting her hips a bit so that her glistening, dripping pussy was accessible to his mouth. He reached down with his tongue to spread her swollen lips and gently licked her from behind. The new angle, which was fast becoming her favorite angle from which to be taken, was incredibly hot, and she clenched her fingers into the furs and moaned long and loud. He stroked her pussy with his tongue, working slowly over clit and lips, and though the orgasm did not come immediately, when it did it was so intense she could barely breath.

"Master!" she choked out, and then buried her face in the bed once more as she climaxed, her juices rushing out from her and her thighs quivering. This one was slower and sweeter than their other sessions of lovemaking had been, but the pleasure was as mind-blowing as always. He held her bottom in the air and kept licking, and in moments she came for him again, crying out this time as she dripped into his mouth. "Oooooh!" At last he released her and she collapsed on the bed, trembling. The warlord moved back up behind her and cradled her back against his body, resting his hand gently on her stomach. "Delicious," he said. Anna laughed shakily and then turned her head and kissed at his lips. He immediately took over, just as she'd hoped, and covered her mouth with his. If she lived a hundred years, she'd never get tired of these forceful kisses. She brushed her hand down his side and found his manhood, taking a firm hold of it and stroking him. He growled into the kiss and the thrill of power that always accompanied pleasuring him shot through her. She kept stroking him, and when the kiss broke, she stared into his eyes hungrily.

"Master. . ." she said, rubbing her thumb over his tip and smearing the fluid of his arousl across it, "Please. . .take me." Asking him to fuck her just wasn't quite right. She wanted more than that. She wanted to be made completely his. He growled against her ear again, making her moan low in her throat, and then reached down to grasp her leg and lift it into the air. She held it there as he reached down and slid himself inside her, then moaned again as his strong hand hooked under her knee and kept her leg up. He began to roll his hips against her, thrusting in deep from an angle that was similar to being taken from behind, but also somewhat different. Either way, it was his magnificent cock inside her, and she loved it. His hand stayed in her hair, keeping her head turned back to look at him, and he kissed her over and over, his tongue trapping and stroking hers. Anna was totally a puppet of his strength. She couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to, and that thought was all it took to push her over into another powerful climax. She cried out against his lips as her womanhood clamped down on him, pulling and milking at his shaft, and with a deep groan of his own, he filled her with that warm, delicious seed. Anna went limp in his arms, breathing hard, so perfectly sated that she was almost unconscious. For several minutes they lay there like that, drifting, and then he slid himself out of her and started to rise.

Anna pulled at him, her face sad, and he sighed and sat back down. "Anna," he said, stroking her hair, "You know I wish I could stay with you and bed you all day long. But I am the ruler of this nation, and I have responsibilities." He gave her a soft kiss, which she held onto as long as he'd let her, her fingers twisting in his hair, and then he rose and went to wash himself off at the room's basin. She followed his progress, her eyes drinking in the lines of his bare body, his strong back, hard narrow waist, and firm rump. Then he got dressed, covering up that magnificent body. It was almost a crime, really, but she was glad he did. She didn't want any woman but her, Tharona, and Nakree seeing that perfection. "Go to your sisters," he said, smiling at her as he shouldered his axe. "I'll be back tonight." He looked down at her for a moment longer, and then walked out, leaving her feeling warm and satisfied. It was a wonderful way to wake up, and she hoped she'd get to have it every day.

***

Back in the hallway, Garshan sighed as he pulled his mind from Anna and focused back on the task at hand. Matron Harcourt and Sir Ronald Mathadon. One of the nobles who had embraced the barbarian creed would know those names, and then the next stage of his plan could begin. He smiled wickedly as he stared out over the town below. Soon all the world would be his to look over in this way.