The Trials of Valeriya: Back in Bonds; Chapter 1/15
Introduction:
A night of roistering. Brute vs. marsh-man—hero intervenes.
WARNING – ADULTS ONLY
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Copyright © 2014 by High Smut
All characters and events in this story are fictitious.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
THE TRIALS OF VALERIYA
BACK IN BONDS
Chapter 1
Vorderreuth, Alfeld
Summer, 1003
The Plodding Mammoth inn was packed to the rafters. The stagnant air smelled of a peculiar combination of wood smoke, fried mutton, freshly hurled mead and men-sweat. The din of merrymaking was loud enough to rival even those of the fabled dwarven mead halls. These Alfelders know how to have a good time. Valeriya upended her drink and slammed the empty tankard down on the bar-top. “Another one, Ser Innkeeper!” she shouted merrily.
Valeriya had been drinking since eventide—mostly without having to pay for the drinks herself. Well, not pay with coin that is. Her stunning looks, paired with a loose sense of modesty meant that she was instantly popular in any public houses she walked into. If she overlooked the occasional stroking of her bare back and thighs, or the recurrent groping of her scantily-clad bottom, Valeriya figured she could get an unending river of mead flowing her way. Although those hands possessing the habit or tarrying on no-man’s-business, usually find themselves broken or burnt severely.
The patrons kept buying her drinks in hope of getting her drunk and having their way with her. What they failed to realize was that Valeriya could drink most men—and a great many dwarves—under the table any day of the week. Tonight’s admirers seemed to have given up rather soon, the blonde sword-maiden felt. The more fool them, then. She could hold her liquor, true, but Valeriya wasn’t the kind of girl to spend your coin and then not put out—not if she could help it. In most such occasions, after she’d had her fill of alcoholic beverage, Valeriya would make one lucky man’s—generally the cleanest and most well behaved one’s—dream come true.
But she was done drinking for the night anyway. One more and she’d grab one of the blundering buffoons and be off to— …What’s that? What broke her reverie? The crowd seemed to have quietened down a little. Then she heard it again: “Sing little man!” someone screamed angrily. Valeriya twisted her neck from her stool and located the source of the ruckus. A large man was looking down on someone with a rather aggressive posture. The blonde leaned further to her right without leaving her seat to get a look at the person who had drawn the bully’s ire, but to no avail. Perhaps he really was what the bellicose Alfelder had called him.
Reluctantly she got up to her feet and started for the commotion. The big Alfelder shifted and Valeriya spotted the “little man” he had cornered. And it was just as she suspected—a Cincuman. Everyone knew there’s no love lost between the Alfelders and their neighbors—the little marsh-folk. Cincu had been a part of Alfeld once—until the lowly marsh-folk chomped off a healthy bit of land for themselves, with backing from the hated Laski Empire, no less. That was nearly a hundred years ago, but the Alfelders still hated the Cincumen with passion. What’s this fool doing here? Valeriya wondered.
“Just leave me be,” the Cincuman said with a level voice. “I just want food and lodging.” He’s keeping his head, Valeriya thought. Good. If it’s one thing she disliked, it’s the big bullying the little.
“Not until you sing little man!” The Alfelder poked the Cincuman on the shoulder with a thick forefinger, causing him to stagger back a step. Cincumen are a merry folk, renowned for their humorous songs, with the Alfelders being the butt of the jokes in many such ballads.
“Get off me!” The Cincuman shoved the big Alfelder with both hands, but failed to budge him even an inch. Ooo … A feisty one! Valeriya thought, perhaps too brave for his own safety.
“Why you little—” The Alfelder grabbed the little man by the lapel of his coat and raised his fist, intent on pounding some marsh-sense into him.
Valeriya did not want the Cincuman beaten up—she was quite fond of the gentle people. But what could I do? If I interfere, the big guy would then have a problem with me! He’s too big to handle bare handed, and if I use magic or steel against an unarmed man, the whole of Vorderreuth would then have a problem with me! Valeriya remembered the big guy buying her a couple of drinks. Though not a charmer by any means, she supposed he behaved well enough. Now what did he say his name was?
“I think you’ve got me all tanked-up, Jan,” Valeriya stumbled onto the big Alfelder, leaning heavily onto his raised arm. Her breath smelled of mead, her voice was slurred, her legs all wobbly. The blonde belle looked positively inebriated. “Take me away from here, my head hurts.”
The man, clearly annoyed at first, soon realized what had just landed on his lap, and was instantly in a quandary. What should he choose? Punch the offensive runt? Or pound the capricious wench? “It’s Jörg, babe. And I’ll be just a minute.” He managed a somewhat reassuring smile, and tried to free his arm from her. “Let me take care of him first,” he pulled the Cincuman closer.
“Oh!” Valeriya gasped, holding the fingers of her raised right hand in front of her mouth, looking positively taken aback, leaving no doubt whatsoever about what she made of the situation. Inside her head she laughed, and gave herself a pat on the back for her acting prowess. It did look like the big Alfelder was going to make out with the little Cincuman from the way he was holding him now. “Jan … where are you, Jan?” Valeriya stumbled back the way she had come from.
Jörg cursed and let the Cincuman go, then followed Valeriya promptly. “Wait up lassie!” He caught up with her quickly enough. “Can’t let you go off all by yourself in this condition.” He hooked his left arm around her slim waist. “Let me help you upstairs.” Pounding wenches will always prevail over punching runts. Valeriya lowered her face to hide her smirk. ’Tis an eternal verity.
Straw haired Jörg—who was taller than Valeriya’s lithe, dancer’s form by at least 6 inches—led her halting person carefully up the stairs and through the first unlocked door he could find. He had, rather shrewdly, grabbed a thick candle from a table downstairs, and guided by its yellow light, he led her to the double bed. He set the candle down on the bedside table.
“Are you going to fuck me, Jan?” Valeriya murmured, still keeping up the drunken pretense. Of course you are!
“It’s Jörg!” He almost snapped, then continued with a smoother tone—he didn’t want to upset her now, “And oh aye lassie, oh aye. That is, if that is your wish also.” But he wasn’t waiting around for her approval—he was already untying the laces of his breeches.
Valeriya didn’t mind. She had already decided to fuck him anyway. She was just taunting him with the names to see how he reacted. The beautiful blonde unbuckled her sword belt and set her scabbarded sword down, leaning from the bedside table. Jörg—who had already stepped out of his breeches—was watching her, and stroking his substantial, semi-hard trouser snake to erection. She had picked wisely, the boy was hung. Valeriya wanted to suck on it for a while, but feared she’d hurl the contents of her stomach if she gagged on it in her current mead-filled condition.
Valeriya crooked her arms behind her back and unhooked the clasp of her bikini top. Then slid the loosened top off along her arms and discarded it on the bed behind her, revealing her large breasts to the Alfelder, who grunted in appreciation. Valeriya scrutinized his phallus; at least 8 inch long and 2 inch wide—it was just what she was looking for. The trim blonde lay back on the bed without breaking her lustful gaze from the healthy manhood, and pulled back her legs, exposing her mail-clad pussy. Have at it, then.
Jörg curled his fingers around the thin leather straps on either side of her hips and pulled the bikini bottom up and off her long, shapely legs and booted feet. Then he stepped in between her legs. Valeriya was lying on her back with her ass on her edge of the bed. Jörg took her right knee in his left hand and pushed it back, opening her bald pussy to him. He took his heavy dong in his right hand and smacked her juicy nether lips with it. Valeriya moaned in pleasure and he smacked her again. “Yes… slap my pussy,” she moaned. Valeriya had a beautiful, almost-virginal looking pussy—plump and juicy outer lips, with nothing but the clitoral hood just about managing to protrude from between them. Encouraged, he kept slapping away at her moist folds, splattering their juices everywhere.
“You like that?” he teased. “You like my dick slapping you pussy?”
“Oh god yes! Keep spanking my pussy with that fat cock!” Valeriya moaned louder. “Do it harder,” the flushed blonde exhorted.
It didn’t take long before Valeriya arched her back and screamed her first orgasm of the night. And before she came down from her high, Jörg had placed the tip of his phallus at her sopping entrance and pushed half his length inside her with one powerful shove. Valeriya cried out at the sudden stretching of her love tunnel. Jörg pulled himself out almost completely, and then thrust in again. This time he managed to sheathe himself inside her completely.
Jörg wishboned her legs and proceeded to saw her insides. Valeriya moaned as her pink depth was plundered and her juices started flowing. She took her nipples in her fingers and began pinching and twisting them not too gently. Her plump, raisin-like nipples and the surrounding areolae, which were quite large, were a light pink, and quite sensitive.
Jörg was giving her his full length. And she was loving it. Valeriya hoped he wouldn’t cum anytime soon. It had been weeks since she was last filled this well. She pinched her nipples harder and her whole body quivered as she had another mild orgasm.
“You like my dick, you drunk bitch? You like my big dick in your cunt?” Jörg grunted the insults. “That’s what you get for running around in those … things!” He kept grunting and smashing his groin onto her bald pussy. The straw-haired boor let go of her legs and wrested the blonde’s supple breasts from her control. Valeriya surrendered her breasts to his authority and wrapped her legs around his hips, and carried on receiving his meat contentedly.
Jörg pinched her nipples and kneaded her soft breasts for a while, then clutched her tits hard and didn’t let go. He used her breasts for handles to power-fuck her young body. Valeriya held onto his forearms, her fingernails digging into his skin. Her tender breasts were supple enough that the Alfelder had managed to encircle them completely around the base with his large calloused hands. The bottom of her breasts—the part that spilled over through the round gap between his touching forefingers and thumbs—were so taut that Valeriya feared they might burst at any moment.
Valeriya held onto his arms for dear life as Jörg pounded all his anger and passion into her. Her pussy was frothing. She would clamp down on his thick shaft in every withdrawing stroke, futilely trying to hold it in, and then raise her haunches to greet the homeward bound stroke. Her pussy was running like a river. Juices flowed down through the crevice between her buttocks, soaking her anus, and streamed down to gather and flood the mattress underneath her ass.
“You like that, slut? You got what you wanted, you beautiful cock-tease?” Jörg grunted through clenched teeth. His thrusts had become shorter and more erratic. Valeriya knew he was losing control, but she wanted to squeeze another orgasm out of it. “You always let strangers fuck you when you get drunk?”
“Yes!” screamed Valeriya. “I’ll let any man fuck me for a mug of ale! I’m a filthy bitch! So fuck me like one!” She uncoiled her legs from around his hips and pushed the Alfelder away.
“Uriul, White Son!” The blond Alfelder pulled out of her with an exclamation. “You really are something, little lady.”
Valeriya turned around and got on her hands and knees. She received a hard smack on her rump as she arched her back and raised her pert ass. This left a red imprint of her lover’s hand on her ass. She moaned like a wanton whore and thrust her ass back for more, and duly received a matching impression on the other cheek. Jörg then placed his dick at her opening again and entered her inflamed snatch smoothly.
He grabbed her hips with both hands and began his thrusting routine again. “Yes! Fuck that pussy! Wreck my cunt!” Valeriya urged in her sex-crazed shrill voice. His groin was smashing onto her round, jiggly ass well-nigh twice a second, her wetness continuously dribbled down the inside of her thighs. The blonde stunner reached between her legs with her right hand and proceeded to rub her engorged clit.
Jörg grabbed her ponytail and yanked hard, pulling back her head and causing her back to arch further. His thrusting had become slow and sporadic. He ground his groin on her taut, but pliant buttocks at the end of every deep, penetrating thrust, trying to burrow as deep inside her as possible. Valeriya clenched onto the rampant meat pole inside her pleasure canal to maximize the sensation and rubbed her swollen pearl furiously. And soon she squealed and shuddered with another mind numbing climax, the strongest of the bunch.
And that’s what did Jörg in. The sensation of her spasmodic love tunnel on his porksword sent him over the edge. He pulled her hair harder, forcing Valeriya to rise onto her knees, and wrapped his free arm around her waist, trapping her arms in the process. He held her tightly and started to chew on the curve of her neck. Jörg penetrated her deeply one last time and hosed her cozy passage clean with warm, gushing baby-batter.
Valeriya massaged the throbbing member resting inside her, showing her appreciation for the wonderful service it provided—until she was released and collapsed facedown upon the mattress and remained there lying, panting heavily. He had worn her out. She hoped the Alfelder wouldn’t stick around. She wanted to get some sleep, and didn’t really feel like cuddling with an uncouth stranger.
Valeriya sensed him moving around, putting on his breeches, and sighed with relief. “Could you sort out the innkeeper for me, Jörg?” she purred. “I really need to sleep.”
Jörg leaned down and slapped her hard on her lush buttocks. Her ass really was her finest feature—bottom-heavy, rather than bubble-round. The Alfelder roughly fondled her perfectly formed tush for a while, and then spanked her again. Valeriya moaned softly, rubbing her face on the bedspread. “Sure babe,” he said, “I’ll take care of it. You get some sleep now.”
Sure you will! Valeriya snorted to herself. Even a homely whore costs more than a room in a regular inn. But she was grateful for the gesture. She really didn’t want to go downstairs at that moment, with cum running down the inside of her thighs. And Valeriya really didn’t feel like cleaning up right then, she was exhausted. Hopefully the Cincuman was smart enough to bolt when she lured his persecutor away. Valeriya removed her boots and tossed them one by one onto the floor by her bed, then pulled a pillow under her face and made herself more comfortable as her lover-for-the-night closed the door behind him on his way out.
