Aeyla, the Lady Barbarian

Aeyla, the Lady Barbarian

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

The first in an eagerly anticipated line of erotic adventures featuring the heroine legend of the wild and barbaric lands. As the one and only self proclaimed Lady Barbarian, Aeyla finds herself having to seduce and distract a King, even as she carries out his murder. All at the request of the King's wife. But all is not as the Queen promised it to be, and Aeyla finds herself the victim of political deceit.

Summary

The first in an eagerly anticipated line of erotic adventures featuring the heroine legend of the wild and barbaric lands. As the one and only self proclaimed Lady Barbarian, Aeyla finds herself having to seduce and distract a King, even as she carries out his murder. All at the request of the King's wife. But all is not as the Queen promised it to be, and Aeyla finds herself the victim of political deceit.

Content

Submitted: August 09, 2016

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: August 09, 2016

A A A

A A A


“You are not my queen.” The king’s words were phrased as a statement of the obvious rather than poised as a question. And from his laid position upon his bed, even a fool could have seen that his Royal Highness had not been prepared to entertain visitors that evening. Nevertheless, Aeyla stuck her brunette head further into the entrance of the king’s tent, followed by her armored shoulders and the rest of her body, until she was standing fully inside the domed canvas.

At the sight of Aeyla, the king fell silent. For once. Aeyla thought to herself. She was well accustomed to her appearance having such an effect on men, for the rare sight of one of the last Daughters of Hera could be a breathtaking experience indeed. The flickering candlelight inside the tent danced and shifted over Aeyla’s form, revealing her in full detail to the king; Her armor, ancient and blessed by Hera herself, was quite unassuming in appearance; little more than a set of cupped breast shields, supported by Aeyla’s attractively rounded and full chest, connecting to a set of leather and metal laced straps which ran down along her sides and curving out towards her flat abdomen. At the generous curves of Aeyla’s hips the straps dipped down, just below her bellybutton, and ended in a pair of silver rings. From the rings there clung a thong of toughened hide, concealing Aeyla’s sex, though just barely. In addition to the bikini armor the woman also donned a pair of iron gauntlets and upper arm bracers, thigh-high leather boots, and a silken red scarf which fell behind her like a narrow strip of cape.

A sly smile crept to the corner of Aeyla’s full lips when she noted how the king’s eyes were roaming up and down along her frame. The smile only widened when Aeyla’s own eyes took in the sight of the king’s naked form, for the man had apparently been suffering from the heat of the summer night and had chosen to sprawl out atop of his bed’s blankets and furs. The Daughter of Hera allowed her sight to fall brazenly to the large member laying out between the king’s thighs. The size of it! No wonder his handmaidens whisper and giggle so feverishly about it around their campfires.

“Pardon the intrusion, Lordship,” Aeyla spoke in a soft voice.

“My Lord,” the king said flatly. Aeyla cocked her head slightly, searching his gaze for some hint of meaning.

“Pardon?”

“The correct and formal way for you to address me would be, My Lord.” Another amused smile cracked Aeyla’s features. “Ah,” she said with a tone of calm which the man was probably not accustomed to hearing from his visitors. “But, as you know, I am a Daughter of Hera and no man, not even a king of men,” she made sure to lock eyes with him now, “can ever be my lord, nor rule over me through any title. So, to me, you are simply a Lord.” The king was silent for a moment. When he finally spoke it was in a tone which Aeyla had already anticipated. “Oh, yes, I can see now why they refer to you as ‘The Lady Barbarian.’ Such manners you have, if only used to conceal that underlying sense of insubordination.”

Aeyla gave no reply, for she did not wish to be sucked into a long and pointless debate of titles and formalities. She knew a much simpler way to shut the man up: Aeyla turned to one side and strolled over to a small, wooden stand at the end of the tent. Her back now fully faced the king, revealing to him the skimpy strings that made up the rear of her thonged armor. Again, the man fell silent. Aeyla could almost feel the king’s eyes upon her exposed arse. She lifted a glass bottle from off of the wooden stand’s surface. A deep crimson liquid sloshed around in the full container. Aeyla popped the canter off of the neck and poured herself a glass of the liquid. She poured a second glass, returned the bottle, lifted up both full glasses and turned around to face the king. The naked man quickly tugged a heavy fur over his lap, but not before Aeyla caught an eyeful of his erect member. “Wine, Your Highness?” Aeyla held out the spare glass of red. Rising awkwardly into a sitting position the king graciously accepted the offered glass. The motion was enough to cause the fur to shift slightly, and the fat tip of the man’s cock poked its way out. Merciful Hera, it nearly reaches past his bellybutton! With one swift swig, Aeyla downed her wine and returned the empty glass to its stand, where she traded it in for the bottle itself.

She gracefully strolled about the edges of the tent’s interior while sipping from the bottle’s mouth. Again, Aeyla could feel the king’s eyes on her back, and she heard the unmistakable shuffle of a fur being shifted around. Aeyla took a moment to bend over a candle stand in a mock interested study of the melting wax patterns. A creek of the bed told her that the king had shifted again. With a soft exhale Aeyla blew out the three candles on the stand, inviting deeper shadows into the tent. She rose and took a pull from the wine bottle. “What was it that you wanted, Lady Barbarian?” The man finally spoke up.

“Oh, we’ll come to that, Your Highness…in time.” Another puff and another set of candles was extinguished. Now the tent was lit only by the two candles on the bedside table, burning low and steady, leaving just enough dim light to see by. The rest of the tent was cast into blackness.

Aeyla took one final swig from the wine bottle before placing the thing down on some ledge she could hardly see. She pulled off her gauntleted gloves and let them fall to the ground with metallic clanks, followed soon after by her armbands, shoulder guards, and red scarf. “I have no time for such games nor the patience to pretend otherwise.” The king growled out. He drained his own glass and placed it on the bedside table. Aeyla turned to face the man once again, and she knew that the remaining candle light was playing across every curve of her body. “My wife, the Queen is expected to arrive at this camp any day now, and I have hired you to protect her when she does!” The king’s yelling did nothing to falter Aeyla’s conviction. “Indeed, you did,” she spoke softly, “and I will do exactly as I have promised… for the right price.” The king scoffed at her words. “I am already paying you more than a generous sum, woman.” He growled out. Aeyla’s hands went up to just above the small of her back. Her fingers worked over a set of small clasps, and soon snapped them open, one at a time, until all came lose.

The metal breast shields fell away from Aeyla’s large tits, causing her chest to jiggle in freedom. As the leather straps came down, peeling away from the soft flesh of Aeyla’s waist, her hands moved round to her curvy hips. Her thumbs hooked through the looped metal rings and Aeyla slowly pulled the thong portion of her armor down over her long legs, and she stepped out of it. With a casual flick of her wrist, Aeyla tossed the discarded armor to the ground and stood before the silent king, naked and enticing, as orange candle light licked its way over her soft flesh. Only Aeyla’s boots remained on now. “I was not referring to coin or jewels, Your Highness.” She said with a flutter of her eyelashes.

“You – you are not my queen,” was all that the man seemed able to sputter out - a repeat of his original greeting to the Daughter of Hera. The king remained sitting at the edge of his mattress. Aeyla slowly stepped over to the bed, easily closing the distance between her and her prey. She bent down so that her face was nearly pressed up against the king’s, her tits jiggling from the motion. She placed a single hand upon the fur over the King’s lap and pulled it away with a quick tug. Aeyla’s eyes fell upon that long cock for the third time that night. The man was fully erect now, for he had been growing harder and longer under that fur as he had watched the Lady Barbarian stroll around his tent, sipping wine and blowing out candles. His member was perhaps the longest and thickest Aeyla had ever glanced: for hardly any of the men she had ever encountered, even those from amongst her own tribe of warrior barbarians, had ever proven to be so well endowed. “No, I am not your queen,” Aeyla ran her fingers up the length of the king’s thigh, stopping only to cup his heavy testicles. The man shuddered slightly and his eyes began to roll back. Aeyla slid her hand up and gripped the man’s hard shaft. “but with a cock like this,” She gave the thing a shake, “I am willing to look past your discrepancy.” The king said nothing. Aeyla lowered herself to her knees, dipped her head down low and, with a final flutter of her eyelashes towards him, parted her luscious lips and took his large cock fully into her mouth.

The king’s expression of nervous confusion was quickly replaced with one of overwhelming pleasure. His eyes rolled back in their sockets and he fell back on his bed as the Lady Barbarian went to work on his member. For a male, especially a mere mortal male, to be pleasured by a Daughter of Hera is no common occurrence, and is not to be compared with the bumbling, sloppy pleasuring’s of the common brothel harlot. For the Daughters of Hera are living definitions of sexual attraction, the very embodiments of lust, and, as such, are expertly wise in all things concerning pleasure. And so, Aeyla proved this to the king, through a display of oral fixation that could not have been out performed even by a dozen clamoring brothel girls:

Keeping her hazel eyes gazing into the kings, Aeyla first rolled her tongue over his cock’s tip, her glossy lips pressed tightly together, ensuring that they slipped gently over the ridge of his head, as if she were kissing his cock with wet popping noises. Next, she allowed her kissing lips to slide down over the head and be parted by the thick shaft, all the while keeping her tongue pressed firmly against the king’s tip, cradling it, glossing it over with her warm saliva. Further and further down the long shaft did Aeyla’s mouth travel. Hardly had her lips come to rest at the base of the king’s cock before she suddenly lifted her head back up. Her lips slid back up over the shaft before the man’s stiff erection slipped out of Aeyla’s mouth, leaving behind long tendrils of saliva stretching from his tip to her lips. Aeyla wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and fluttered her thick eyelashes at the king. The man was left both transfixed and shocked. How could she stop now?

“Such a tasty treat, Lordship,” Aeyla spoke softly, barely above a whisper, “I could hardly pull myself away.”

“No, do not pull away,” the king groaned out. “Please, Lady Barbarian.”

Aeyla did not move. She remained bent over the king’s lap, a look of teasing humor on her features. “Oh, what is this, the king is saying ‘please’?” There was a moment of hesitation from the man as he pondered the shocking words which had escaped his mouth. Aeyla gave his erect cock a little shake, and cupped his heavy testicles with a light squeeze. “Yes, yes, please, I’m begging you!” He stated in a rushed tone. Aeyla fluttered her lashes again. “Mhmm, a King of Men begging with a Daughter of Hera,” the Lady Barbarian responded. She lowered herself to her knees, keeping her fingers wrapped firmly on the man’s long shaft. “This is as it should be,” Aeyla stated.

She dipped her head once more and took his cock into her mouth again. The king moaned out this time, and lifted his pelvis up in a desperate attempt to get more of himself into Aeyla’s mouth. With a firm hand and a surprising strength, Aeyla pressed down on the man’s abdomen, forcing the king back down onto the bed. Her mouth popped off of his member. “Never assume to take me, King,” she spoke harshly, but kept her tone low, so as not to disturb the guards standing just outside of the royal tent. “It is I who am fucking you. And I will decide how deeply you go into my mouth. Is that clear, Lordship?” The man scowled at first, but when the threat of losing out on this mistress of pleasure grew too heavy, he yielded, nodding his head with jittery enthusiasm.

A sly smile crept to Aeyla’s lips. “Very good,” she mused. Her soft hand began stroking the king’s shaft. Up and down then up again. She gently toyed with the large member before her. Aeyla’s free hand played with his testicles, massaging them, lifting them up and allowing them to drop back down. Her saliva coated lips greeted his tip again. They parted and she sucked on his cock, sipping on him as she would a bottle of mead. Another moan escaped from the king’s mouth, low and satisfied. He watched on as Aeyla’s head bobbed up and down between his thighs. He appreciated the sight of her full breasts, bare and jostling around, slapping up against his legs. The man had received such services from his handmaidens before, but never had any of those silly girls pleased him so fully as this so called Lady Barbarian was doing now. The king smiled to himself. A ‘fearsome warrior,’ she calls herself, he thought mockingly. Another foolish bimbo, clamoring over my cock, I call her!

Aeyla increased her pace now, sucking on the king’s member deeper and faster. She took him fully into her mouth, and did not stop swallowing until his tip tickled the back of her throat. Saliva dripped out from the corners of Aeyla’s mouth, and ran down in long trails over the king’s shaft. For effect, perhaps to convince the man that she was subject to the same weaknesses as any common woman, Aeyla gave off a stifling chocking noise, as if she were being slightly suffocated by his member. She lifted her head up slightly but did not allow her mouth to leave him, and she plunged back down, again swallowing him as deeply as she could, her mouth being fully fucked. She produced more of her warm saliva to sloppily drip all over the man’s cock. The pleasure the king felt was immense. His cock began to throb within Aeyla’s mouth, slowly at first and then with more pressure. The king closed his eyes and sunk into the bed, completely without thought or awareness. He did not notice Aeyla’s focused eyes studying him, awaiting this very moment when his guard was dropped. He did not see the Lady Barbarian, as one of her hands dropped down to the floor. Aeyla’s fingers met the hilt of a dagger under the bed. The same dagger she had hidden their earlier that very day, before the king had retired for the evening. She did not stop sucking on him even as her hand closed firmly and quietly around the hilt.

  She could feel the king’s cock throbbing wildly against her tongue, and she encouraged him by squeezing his head between tongue and check. The king moaned out pleasantly, and Aeyla sent his cock to the back of her throat as he cummed hard. His seed exploded into Aeyla’s mouth; shooting, stopping, and shooting again. He filled her mouth almost quicker than Aeyla could swallow it. When he was spent, Aeyla knew her chance had arrived. Her free hand gripped his thigh roughly as she pulled her mouth off of his cock and rose to her feet. Aeyla drew the dagger and held it up high over her head. The king had barely reopened his eyes before the Daughter of Hera speedily bent down over his sprawled out body. She brought the dagger down hard, plunging the long, razor sharp blade deep into his chest. The metal bit into his flesh with ease and, guided by Aeyla’s trained hand, slipped between two ribs to pierce his beating heart. A grunt fled from the king’s lungs as he jerked violently under the pressure of the killing plunge.

Aeyla kept her hand glued to the hilt as she slowly lowered her head down next to the king’s. Her erect nipples brushed against the bare flesh of his side. The light was quickly fading from the king’s eyes; they roamed about the tent canopy for a moment before meeting Aeyla’s. Blood pumped out from the wound in the man’s chest and began to pool around the blade. He struggled to speak, having to form his words around involuntary grunts and wheezing. “Y-you-you…” A look of shocked, bitter, confusion plastered the king’s face as his emotions turned from pleasure to pure horror. “You w-were hired t-t-to…” Aeyla cut off the man’s stammering, speaking to him in a delicate whisper, as if she were still servicing him. “yes, King, I was hired,” she said, “but not by you. Not truly.” Now, Aeyla bent her head down lower so that she could speak directly into the dying man’s ear. “Your wife, the Queen, sends her regards.” Briefly, for a fleeting moment before he died, a look of pained understanding flashed across the king’s features. He grunted out as a final breath exited from his lungs, never to be drawn back in again, and his body slumped loosely as all life fled from his mortally wounded body.

Aeyla released her grip on the dagger and rose to a standing position. The back of her hand came up to wipe away the dead king’s seed from her lips. She turned her naked body away from the corpse on the bed, gathered up her armor from the ground, and proceeded to dress herself. The process of slipping back into her bikini armor took no great time at all, and when Aeyla was once again clad from breasts to clit in her protective metal, she exited the kings tent. Stepping out into the night air was a refreshing experience after being held up in that stuffy tent canvas. The two guards dutifully standing erect outside of the tent’s exit each gave Aeyla an amused side glance, thinking her nothing more than a common whore, returned from servicing their lord.

One of the guardsmen placed a gauntleted hand on the closed flap-entrance, making to enter the tent and check in on the king. A gently placed hand on the man’s wrist and a disapproving tsk, tsk from Aeyla halted the man’s nearly disastrous action. “Your Lordship, the King, is quite…spent…this evening,” she stated in a teasing tone, “and does not wish to be disturbed. He’s dead asleep.” Taking Aeyla at her word, and not wishing to risk his king’s wrath, the guard drew his hand away from the flap and returned to attention. His lusty eyes followed the swaying movements of Aeyla’s arse as she graciously, and calmly, strolled away, deeper into the bustle of the royal camp.

She had passed by her third campfire, at which a cluster of mead and wine soaked soldiers proceeded to whistle and jeer at her, and was nearly to the outer edge of the camp, towards the main road, when a sudden shout broke the silence of nightfall and caught Aeyla’s attention. “Make way for Her Majesty the Queen!” The shrill voice of a carriage driver called out from down the dirt road, accompanied by the loud clopping of horse hooves. Aeyla had to leap back a step in order to avoid being ridden over. The black and red carriage hastily came to an abrupt halt just in front of her as the driver on top reined up his two steeds’. Two armor clad guardsmen leapt down onto the ground from the back of the carriage and eagerly strolled around to flank the main door, clutching firmly to their long-shafted battleaxes. If she were expected to take a knee or to curtsey (despite her lack of a dress) for the queen, Aeyla paid no mind. Instead, she placed her hands on her curved hips and remained standing tall and unbent as she waited for the woman to reveal herself, just as she had done the first time they had met.

One of the two guardsmen reached up to the carriage door, unlatched a small, silver clasp, and gently swung the thing open. The interior of the carriage was aglow with burning yellow lamplight, revealing in contrast the soft form and features of the queen. The woman was little more than a few years older than Aeyla, but was quite her opposite in most every possible way; The queen’s hair was trimmed neatly, and fell only to the tops of her shoulders. Her dark brown eyes were beautifully set against flesh of a hazel tone. Her lips, like Aeyla’s, were full, as were her breasts – which tantalizingly rested beneath her gown of light-blue silk – and sparkling silver bracelets and slim jeweled rings adorned her wrists and fingers, catching the lamplight and attracting the envious eye. At her exposed neck the queen wore a silver chained necklace with a sapphire gem resting from it (just above her pushed-up cleavage line). The queen absentmindedly toyed with this sapphire, twisting and fingering it on its chain as she graciously smiled at the sight of her hired assassin, standing outside of the carriage door.

“Well met, Lady Barbarian,” the queen greeted Aeyla in her most pleasant, charming tone. “Good evening, Queen,” Aeyla responded, returning the woman’s knowing smile but still refusing to curtsey or kneel. “Oh, Aeyla,” the queen spoke the words almost as if they were an afterthought, with an airy wave of her hand, “please, join me for a moment, there is something I wish to discuss with you.” Aeyla played her role in the act masterfully, and accepted the queen’s invitation as she climbed up into the carriage and took the padded seat directly across from her. One of the guardsmen swung the door shut, blocking out all sound from the royal camp outside and assuring that the two women could speak in private, without fear of being overheard. There was a moment of silence before the queen spoke again.

  “I trust that all went well?”

“All according to plan, down to every little detail,” Aeyla assured her, “you were right, all I had to do was shake me backside, jiggle me tits, and your husband was practically drooling over me. He welcomed me onto him quite eagerly.”  

The queen’s trimmed eyebrows arched in amusement. “Of course he did,” she responded, “the man was as unfaithful as he was foolish. And, if my knowledge on lore serves me, it is not particularly easy for any man to refuse the allure of the Daughters of Hera.” Aeyla gave a sly smile and said, “Well, as I promised you, the deed is done. Your husband is slain. He lays dead in his tent as we speak. Your land is without a king, and you are free to inherit the kingdom.” The queen continued to toy with her necklace. An expression of careful focus overtook her features, as if she were overthinking each detail of her planned scenario. “And the matter of my payment is still to be taken care of,” Aeyla stated seriously after the queen had gone too long without speaking. The woman raised her eyes to Aeyla’s face, then dropped them down over her body, studying the Lady Barbarian. Aeyla got the vague impression that the queen was waiting for something to happen. Bidding her time. Instinctively, Aeyla’s hand discreetly crept from off the seat and onto her lap in a resting position. She flexed her wrist and a sleek hidden blade sprung out from her gauntlet with a metallic click. The action was enough to draw the queen’s attention back to Aeyla’s face, which was now nothing but a stone carving of seriousness. “Of course, Lady Barbarian,” the queen said through the expression of a forced smile. “A woman of my stature is sure to always pay her debts.”

The woman uncrossed her legs and slowly lifted up the frilled hem of her dress, revealing a pair of smooth legs in laced stockings. Another flick of her wrist sent Aeyla’s hidden blade retracting back into her gauntlet. A satisfied grin returned to her lips as she watched the queen pulling her hem further up her legs and over her thighs. The frill stopped just at the top of the woman’s thighs. Aeyla caught sight of a white lace thigh band, which the queen proceeded to fuss over with both hands. Soon after, she untied a small coin pouch from the band, clasped it into her palm, and dropped her dress back down over her legs. The revealing of this clever hiding place had kept Aeyla transfixed and interested. So much so that she had not immediately noticed that her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and strained. The queen tossed the coin pouch over to Aeyla, who caught it. But something was wrong; Aeyla felt that her reflexes had been slightly sluggish in response as she snatched the pouch from midair. The queen made no attempt at pretending that she had noticed Aeyla’s slowness as well. “Ah, finally!” She sighed out. As if she had been waiting on this for quite some time. Aeyla had already unlaced the coin pouch and was peering at its contents: a collection of precious gems and stones, each worth a small fortune on its own. But the image of the stones was steadily growing hazy, blurring at the edges as if Aeyla were peering through a thick fog. She glanced up at the queen’s words. “What are you prattling on about?” She demanded. Her words sounded slurred. “Well I was beginning to wonder if the poison would have any effect on you whatsoever,” the queen stated with a cheery air to her voice and a false smile cracking her face.

Aeyla made to rise from her seat, but found that she could hardly stand without a sensation of dizziness overpowering her head, causing her to plop back down to a sitting position. “Easy, dear,” the queen soothed, as if she were a concerned mother cooing over a sick child. “The serum works fast.” Aeyla flicked her wrist to extend the hidden blade again, but found that she lacked the strength to lunge. Shadows were beginning to creep in from the corners of her vision. She was losing sight of the queen’s face, but could still hear her light voice quite clearly. “Allow me to explain: I mentioned that my knowledge of lore is quite extensive. I was well versed in the legends of your kind even before I sought you out and hired you to slay the king,” Aeyla opened her mouth, but it was a struggle for her to form words now. With difficultly she managed to speak, “I have been t-trained to rec-recognize and resist most p-poisons,” she stammered over her heavy tongue. “I was n-not p-poi-pois…”

“Oh but you were, Aeyla,” the queen interrupted, “and by your own hand, too.” When no retort was given, the woman went on with her explanation.

“You’ll recall that when I hired you, I made mention of the fact that my husband appreciated a woman who could hold her liquor. I assured you that he would most certainly have a bottle or two sitting around in his tent. I then insured that there was only one bottle in there, through the confidence of a trusted handmaiden in my service, the very bottle that I tainted with a clever little elixir. It’s slow acting, you see, as I knew that if you noticed the effects too soon you would call off the assassination altogether and would come after me.” The shadows in Aeyla’s vision were growing darker. Her mind was swimming in confusion. “To be quite honest,” the queen went on, “I had no idea whether the poison would actually work on you or not. After all, a Daughter of Hera is practically a goddess herself, is she not? I’m glad to see that my concoction was potent enough to affect a woman of your, ah, existence.” Aeyla’s head was beginning to lull onto her shoulder. She managed to keep her eyes open, despite the throbbing she now felt behind them. She forced out another sentence.

“You bitch! Y-you swore t-to pay your d-de-debt.”

“And so I have,” the queen responded, “those gems you hold are yours to keep. But I’m afraid that I can’t have a first-hand witness, an honor-less barbarian at that, walking about freely, sure to spread the word of my treason, simply to boost her own reputation as a killer for hire.” The darkness now completely obscured Aeyla’s vision, and she found that even the queen’s voice was dimming away, getting lost in the fog as the Lady Barbarian was plunged deeper into the abyss of unconsciousness. “Oh, fear not, Aeyla,” the words sounded through, but were fleeting, “the poison cannot kill your kind. It will simply put you to sleep long enough that I might have you securely locked away. You did kill the King, after all.” And with that, Aeyla was lost. Sunken fully into a state of long, deep sleep.  What would happen to her resting body, she knew not. Where the deceitful queen intended to take her, only the gods could know. But Aeyla was a Daughter of Hera: powerful and resilient. She inwardly promised that she would not be defeated by some dreadful whore of a queen. So she would sleep. But she would awaken, eventually, and awaken with a cold furry the likes of which even Hades himself might cower before.


© Copyright 2017 Inkstein . All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

Other Content by Inkstein

More Great Reading

Popular Tags