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The Maiden’s Tale
As a reclusive woman, there were many rumors that swirled about me in the town below my chateau. Perched high atop a mountain in a bit of a wooded valley, my home was seldom visited and I never saw reason to leave it. Of course, the occasional young man questing to murder the crone that resided within the walls of my home or older gentlemen who’d heard tales of a beautiful young maiden cursed to sleep a thousand years would sometimes wander into my garden, but they were easy enough to placate or avoid.
My favorite rumor, though, was that I was a ravishingly beautiful witch with the power to curse the soul of even the purest of men.
While I am a rather attractive woman, I, sadly, was not a witch that beheld such power, I was simply a woman.
I had endeavored to end my day down in my garden, enjoying a moonlit soak in the hot springs at the far end of the estate, nearest the mountain waterfall that flowed onto the grounds. It was a ritual of which I had grown fond. Given that I lived alone on the grounds, and had since I was a c***d, I seldom found the need to wear clothing. It wasn’t uncommon for the adventuring men who made their way to my home to come upon me walking through my garden in little more than a smile and hair clasps to lift my long red curls from the base of my neck.
My lack of modesty and shame over my appearance quite often left them intimidated by me. Most would d**** a cape or shirt of their own over my shoulders to appease their own discomfort with my naked form. A few embraced the view with awkward glances and attempted averted gazes. Then there were those who were daring and took it upon themselves to match my level of attire.
Oddly, it was the daring ones who most refrained when faced with my advances. My visitors were few and far between, one, maybe two a year at their height, with an average of one every third year. Those that clothed me upon meeting would often stay for a short period, a week, maybe two before they were satisfied that I was not in need of rescuing and quite liked my home.
The awkward ones stayed a little longer, but left much more confident in their mission, they always vowed to return once they had accumulated wealth and notoriety. None ever have, but I imagine they lived happy lives away from the secluded witch that cleansed them of their fear and doubt.
Those that disrobed with me often stayed the longest, occasionally remaining in my home for up to a year before they bored of me and moved on. They would return every now and then, much more humbled and insecure than they had been when they left, and thank me for indulging them with my company.
The one thing they always remarked on, the ones that returned anyways, was that I had not aged a day since they last saw me. They were wrong of course. I had aged. I aged just the same as everyone else, one year around the sun from the day of my birth was still one year. I just didn’t share with them that I wasn’t exactly 100% human. I aged. I grew and learned and my body matured over centuries rather than decades, but I aged.
So you can see why I’ve always been quite happy with my home and never even thought to leave it to join the men who ventured into it. I quite liked being a mystery. I adored being discovered. I lived a beautiful life with much love shared with me, in spite of the rumors that reached my ears from adventurers.
So why was this day different?
Destiny perhaps? I had been caught bathing in my hot springs for near a millennia, and my heart had never felt so drawn to one of my voyeurs before. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, perched atop a crevice in the mountain, slightly hidden behind a rock that shadowed him.
My arms were raised above my head as I removed the clasps from my hair and shook the curls loose so that they fell over my shoulders and into a puddle on the rock I sat upon. I was at the edge of the spring, kicking my feet in the water, fully aware of the eyes that watched me from his partially hidden post.
I could almost feel güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri him smile as I gathered my hair in my hand and pulled it all over one shoulder and began to comb it, starting at the very bottom and working my way up. My hair hid my body and framed it at various points, certainly drawing his attention to the voluptuous curves I possessed.
I watched him, never directly, but well enough that I could follow him down the mountain as he made his way to the old weeping cherry tree that loomed over my springs. As the tree shook just slightly, a motion that could have easily just been the wind, I slipped from my rocky seat and into the warm water beneath me.
As I did with many of the men that visited me, I stayed beneath the surface of the water for an abnormally long time, a trick I had gotten better at as I practiced over the years, and watched up through the water as he inevitably dropped through the trees to assess my safety.
He didn’t just drop into the water like the others, grabbing me and pulling me to the surface without a thought of their own safety. No, he lay atop the rocks and smiled into the water as he watched me watching him.
As my lungs began to ache, I surfaced, staying mostly submerged, but lifting my head free to the base of my nose so I could take a much-needed breath. His smile grew and he leaned forward, kissing me on the forehead.
I tilted my head to the side and surveyed his face, it was familiar, but not strikingly so. I put my hands on the rocks near him and lifted myself to be eye level with him, “Have you come to slay the witch or bed the maiden?”
“What if I’ve come to bed the witch and slay the maiden?” he asked with a slight smirk.
“You would truly be the first, if that were the case,” I smiled at him.
He reached his hand out and pushed a rogue lock of hair back behind my ear. His touch was soft and I leaned towards his hand almost out of instinct.
“You have no idea who I am, do you?” he asked as he rubbed his thumb over my cheek as I smiled up at him.
I shook my head, “I seldom learn the names of my visitors…they forget to tell me and I forget to ask.”
He smiled and began to untie his tunic. I watched him undress, his complexion was nearly as pale as my own, but his eyes were a crystalline blue where mine were a rich violet. He folded his clothes and placed them farther back on the rock, with his boots, then came over and slid down into the water beside me. His feet easily reached the bottom of the spring while mine remained a good foot above the deepest points.
“Well, let me break that streak. My name is Michael, and you are?”
“Laure,” I said readily as I swam a short distance away.
He moved closer to me, a smile lingered at the corners of his lips as I became more wary of his advances, “Laure, would you like me to leave?”
I shook my head and treaded water in the center of the spring as he continued his advance towards me. I was the pursuer, not the one pursued, I reminded myself.
As he neared me, I looked him in the eye, “Who are you?” I asked as he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me tightly against himself.
His eyes glistened slightly and he lowered his lips down close to my ear, “Until tomorrow, I will be your master.”
He said it with such authority that my breath caught. I was the master. I was the seductress. It had always been my role to lead and direct and teach. But for some reason, when the words left his lips and settled in my ear, I felt very willing to step back and let him lead.
I nodded and looked up to him, “Yes, master.”
He smiled and rubbed his thumb across my lower lip before he leaned over to kiss me gently. His hands slid down my lower back and cupped my butt, rubbing it as he pulled me up towards him, guiding my legs to wrap around his waist.
When he pulled free of the kiss he was carrying me back towards the edge of the hot springs. Every step rubbed my pussy against his cock, causing him to pause every now and then to pull me just makrobet a little more tightly to him as I searched his face for some hint towards his intentions. His slightly bouncy walk through the water ensured the tip of his cock grazed my clit numerous times in the few minutes it took us to get from the center of the springs to the edge.
He looked down at me as he pressed my back against the smooth stones that lined the water and without a word he pushed himself into me. I gasped and he smiled but said nothing as he thrust into me, water splashing lightly against the rock he pinned me to.
His gaze moved from my eyes to my neck then down to my chest as his hands gripped my hips and lifted me slightly higher, just enough to lift my breasts completely out of the water as he continued his rhythmic and silent thrusts. I started to put my hands on his shoulders but he stopped moving and looked me in the eye, his smile was all smirk.
“I didn’t say you could do that, Laure,” I looked down and he made a ‘tsk tsk’ sound, “You’ll have to be punished for that.” His voice was soft, somewhat taunting as he spoke. “Now what should you say?”
I looked him in the eye, “I’m sorry, Master.” I moved my hands off of his shoulders and placed my palms flat against the rock I was pressed against.
He smiled and brought his lips down to mine as he thrust into me again.
He was well endowed, both in thickness and length, but mostly in technique. My muscles caressed his cock, squeezing it rhythmically as his tongue danced with mine. I moaned and I felt him smile against my lips as he thrust into me a little harder.
He placed light kisses along my lower lip, down my chin, and along my neck until he was sucking gently on my right breast and squeezing my left breast in his hand, his thumb rubbed over my left nipple just as his tongue did my right. I leaned my head back and moaned again, being very careful not to reach out for him, though I desperately wanted to reverse our roles and ride him.
His hand and tongue switched sides and he began to thrust in and out of me faster, making larger waves and splashes of the water against the rock. I clenched my fist and arched my back and then he just stopped. He pulled himself free of me and climbed out of the water, then reached down, grabbed me by the wrist and lifted me up onto the rock beside him.
I could see that he was still hard and I hadn’t missed his enjoyment of me. I watched him and he looked me over before he pulled me over his lap and smacked my bottom with his bare hand. I yelped and tried to block his hand from a second blow, but he quickly grasped it and pulled it aside as his other hand made contact with my flesh.
I jumped. These were not playful, they were fully disciplinary. I felt his cock twitching beneath my stomach as he landed three more swats on my already red bottom. I had never experienced that before. I had never been disciplined or scolded in any way. My lip trembled and I could feel the wetness of tears rolling down my cheeks as his hand began rubbing the area he’d spanked.
He pulled me up so that I was sitting on his lap with my legs to one side and he lifted my chin to kiss me. His cock was nestled between my thighs and when his lips left mine I looked up at him.
He smiled, “Kneel over my lap with your hands on the edge of the rock between my legs.”
I did as I was told, placing my legs on either side of him, I faced away from him and leaned forward to put my palms on the rough edge of the rock we were sitting on. I felt him guiding himself into me again and I tried not to move.
Once he had my hips pulled tightly down to his, he began pushing and pulling my hips in a rocking motion against his lap. I looked down into the water, my hair fell over my shoulder and dipped into the edge of the springs.
His voice was gentle, “Keep this motion and rhythm. Just rock your hips on me, don’t lift your body, don’t fuck me, just tilt and roll your hips, regardless of what I do.”
I followed his direction, makrobet giriş and he brought his hand around my waist. He began to lubricate his fingers in the fluids gathering at the base of his cock, then moved them up, between the lips of my pussy and very slowly and softly spread the lubrication over my clit. He let his finger slid easily over the sensitive bit of flesh, slightly disrupting the rocking motion of my hips as I inadvertently moved my hips towards his fingers.
He spanked me with his other hand and I clenched around his cock, evoking the first moan I’d heard from him. His fingers teased and manipulated my clit and every time I broke the rocking rhythm on his cock he’d spank me until I resumed the proper movements. After a few minutes of the gentle teasing, he carefully moved under me until he was kneeling behind me. He kept one hand firmly on my hip and one continued to rub my clit. My hips kept the rhythm until he began to thrust in hard, deep, slow movements.
I moaned and tried to keep my hips rocking against him, but each thrust sent a shiver up my spine. My fingers curled under the edge of the rock and he began to rub my clit a little more insistently. I leaned my head down on the rock and lifted my butt a little higher as he felt my cunt tense up around him and begin rhythmically pulling at him each time he tried to pull back out.
Then I felt him pull free of me again and I almost whined, but he grabbed my hip and turned me over onto my back. His hand went behind my neck and pulled me up to him until his cock was at my lips. He throbbed as he pushed himself into my mouth and I moaned as he let a few thick ropes of cum loose as the head of his cock hit the back of my throat.
He watched me savor his cock as I cleaned my own fluids from him. His hand stroked my hair and pushed it away from my face as I looked up at him, practically begging for his praise. I got as he pulled himself free of my lips. His lips brushed against my ear as he lay beside me and gently massaged my jaw, “Such a good girl,” he whispered before he kissed my cheek.
I fell asleep in his arms on top of the rock at the edge of the springs. When I woke it was morning and he was stroking my hair away from my face and behind my ear. He smiled when he noticed I was awake.
“Would you like me to leave, Laure?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Then would you like to know who I am?” he asked with a smirk.
I looked him over curiously but nodded.
“My father loved your mother once, but she didn’t return his affection so he had her killed. He intended to keep you and raise you to be the lover your mother refused to be. I smuggled you and your father out of our home and he promised he would send help for me after he got you to safety. He never did. You were just a little thing, barely even walking. My father found out about my hand in your escape and I suffered greatly for it for many many years. To end my suffering I promised him I would find you and return you to him.”
He sighed and looked me over, “It took me years, but I’ve found you, and now I don’t want to return you to him.”
He sat up next to me and began getting dressed, “I’m going to return home and tell him you died shortly after your father escaped with you.” He stopped and looked down to the rock we sat on, “Before my father descended into lust for you, you were supposed to be betrothed to me.”
He forced a smile at me then pulled his shirt over his head, “I wish things had been different between our families. I think I would have enjoyed being your husband.”
He started to stand but stopped himself to lean back and kiss me one more time, “May I come back sometime?”
I nodded and he smiled, though his eyes seemed seated in deep sadness as he stood up and walked away from me. I watched him disappear into the tree he’d climbed down and watched him make his way up the mountainside, becoming harder and harder to spot the higher he went.
There was something in his eyes that day that told me I would never see him again. I know I should have waited there for him to return…but I felt like if he’d found me, perhaps I could find him as well. My journey began by carving a map into the rock we slept upon.
For the first time in my life, I’d found a reason to venture outside the walls of my home.
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