The Wages of Love

The King of Raellyn pushed himself up slowly and looked around, still dazed. The two hundred men he'd brought to raze the witches' village and burn them all lay on the ground around and behind him, some groaning, some twitching, and a few even forcing themselves up, or trying to. The green fire that had bathed them all was gone, but the woman in front of the village gates was standing, with her hands on her hips, regarding them.

"Have you had enough, self-styled King of this land?" the woman asked. "We do not wish you ill, have harmed none of you, even after you threatened our lives. Do not force us to show you what true power is, King. Your God did not defend you against the Goddess' warning any more than he will defend you against Her wrath, should you provoke it."

"My God commands me to work your deaths, witch," the King said as he staggered to his feet. "We cannot suffer your kind to live."

"Did your God tell you that in person? Did he tell you that we truly have Power to wield, unlike those poor men and women in your city that you put to the flame?" The woman shook her head, and smiled sadly at the King. "We fear not your flame," the woman said, and the King gasped as fire roared up around her! She smiled at him as she paced forward, leaving a charred path in the grass under her as she walked toward the King.

"Halt!" he choked as the heat of the flames surrounding the smiling woman washed over him. "As King I command you!"

"But I do not recognize you as my King, you threw away your supposed right to command me when you threatened my life, and the lives of all my friends," the woman said, and smiled as the King retreated hastily, and those of his men who could move again with him. She gestured, and the armor of those who wore it became unbearably hot, so the men accoutered in it had to rip it from their bodies and discard it!

The flame around her flickered out, and she looked sternly at the King. "Leave us in peace, as we leave you in peace. You cannot stand against us, we are children of the Mother of All, and She would visit doom on all of you if we asked it. Be thankful, most humbly thankful to Her that we are not like you."

She turned and walked back to the village, and the grass that had been charred by the flames sprang up green and lush around her feet as she strode over it. The woman stopped just short of the village gate, turned, and said, "Come not to this place again, herder of sad, deceived sheep. An you do, you will rue that day for the rest of your miserable lives, you and all the sheep who follow you."

The gate opened behind her, and two other women walked out to stand on either side of the one who had blasted the King and his men. They gestured, spoke three Words that echoed oddly, and lightning crashed down from the sky onto every discarded piece of armor, frying it to scraps of leather and bubbling liquid. The King's men shuddered as they scrambled farther away from the armor, some of his dazed army even throwing down their weapons as they fled.

"I will bring priests you cannot frighten, and a host of men whose footsteps will shake your village to the ground," the King shouted, and was close enough to see all three women smile at him. "You will all die," he promised, mounting a shying, nearly panicked horse and wheeling it around. "This I vow!" he shouted, and spurred the horse away from the quiet little village.

The King spent the next six years traveling from one Kingdom to another with a small band of his men, those who had seen the witches' power and were willing to tell others of it. The rulers of the various Kingdoms appeared to be much impressed, and each promised to support the King's aim with soldiers, supplies and weapons.

Six years after he had first ridden against the witches' village he came back with an army whose footsteps shook the ground, a force that could not be denied, nearly a hundred thousand men. They'd moved through his Kingdom like locusts, stripping the land bare and making play, much of it lewd and cruel, with the peasants they encountered. The King had brushed aside the complaints his people had lodged against the soldiers under his command, and the four weeks it had taken to reach the witches' village had spawned ugly talk amongst his peasants.

The same woman was standing outside of the gates of the village, and her expression was sad. "And you call yourself King," she called, and the King flushed with anger.

"I

am

King of this land, and you will learn the fate of those who defy me," he blustered, wondering if the smelly concoction the priests had painted their armor with would actually defend them against the witch's power?

"You are nothing but a bully, surrounded and supported by other bullies, who has prospered in a Kingdom based on lies and brutality," the woman said, shaking her head. "King of Lies, King of Cruelty, King of Butchery and Blood," she called, and the King was amazed that she sounded as if she was sad, not fearful!

"I am the rightful King of this land, charged by God to rid it of you and all your kind," the King growled at the upstart woman standing against him. "We will put you all to the sword this day, and rid our land of the stench of your evil."

"Do you hear him, Mother?" the woman called, and the smile she turned to the ground in front of her was sad. She knelt and laid her hand on the ground, and said, "Please show them Power, Mother, that they may understand."

The King ripped his armor off, his need impossible to control, and found himself balls-deep in Count Wurgen, his chief strategist, charged to support him by the King of Ellesthyr. The man was groaning as he spent himself in the mouth of the first page the Count had touched, while the King's squire mounted the King wielding a tool that felt, to the King, as if the boy had borrowed it from the King's own stallion!

He barely had the strength of will to turn his head, as he was spending freely into the Count and his squire was panting and spurting into him, and saw that all he could see of the army he'd so laboriously raised were fucking each other, fucking as if it was the last chance they'd ever have!

"Your drovers are disporting with the beasts that draw their wagons, your armorers have found a new use for the handles of their hammers, and your camp followers are laughing fit to split them all," the woman purred into the King's ear. "This lust you feel will ride you for the rest of your life, King of Lies. You, and those of your soldiers who followed you because they enjoyed the killing of others, will service everyone willing to spill their seed in you, as often as you can convince them to do it, until you go to the Mother for her mercy."

The King would have despaired had not a page consented to feed him a hearty warm helping of the young man's seed, groaned in delight, and almost immediately fed him another helping. He nearly mourned for his old life of privilege, but couldn't understand any longer how he'd done without this marvelous feeling until now! Another page had taken the place of his squire, who was shaking his head and staring at the King in shock as the Count was pulled away, drooling the King's copious spend, and was replaced by one of the squires who had been quite mean to everyone he could get away with bullying.

The woman stood up and smiled at the young squire, who was most handsomely equipped, and giggled as the young man followed his throbbing erection to her! She turned around, raised her robe behind her, and moaned in delight when the young man smeared spittle into her, then eased his massive member into her slowly.

"This will only last for another few years for you, and you will not harm yourself in the quenching of your lust," the woman chuckled, loving the way the boy caressed her hips as he reamed her gently, working his incredible organ even deeper into her trembling body very, very slowly...

The King was sad for the boy, but was too busy coming over and over to argue for the sadly-cursed youth. And, truth be told, his mouth was quite full, and he couldn't stand the thought of it ever being empty again!

The other women of the village who were single strode with smiles, some sad and some happy, through the humping, groaning bodies and led the ones who were mostly unaffected by the Mother's spell back to the village, where they were offered food and drink by the single women who had taken the chance to inspect them. Many of those women, young and old, who'd not had a mate found one, and the men left out of that intimacy still found their ease and relaxation courtesy of the adventurous village girls and the camp followers...

The woman introduced the young man, once squire to the King, to her two friends, and the three of them left him gasping and feeling oddly grateful to the foolish King he'd served for too many years. "What will you do now?" the young man finally asked, when he'd had time enough to catch his breath again.

"Get you hard again," the one with reddish hair purred. "'Tis my turn, lovely little boy."

"No, not that," he laughed. "What will you do with Roderick?"

"The self-styled King?" the third woman asked, and he nodded. "What more must we do in his case? He will never threaten us again, and in a day or two we will shoo what is left of his army away. They will be a most potent reminder to their supposed Kings as to why we should not be trifled with again."

"Tell him all," the one smiling at him promisingly said, and the third woman sighed as the first hugged him sleepily and smiled.

"It is not done, lad, not by a fair sight," the third woman giggled. "Their Kings will demand an accounting, and merely being near to those the Mother has thus afflicted will bring the lust to all the others in their kingdoms who glory in the death and domination of others."

"We have begun a signal work today, one which will reverberate down through the ages of this world," the first witch sighed as she slumped to the side, helped by her friend, who was eager to taste the lad as well. "Our Mother agrees that these butchers and destroyers must not prevail over love and truth. Her gift will last here until this world breathes its last, until we, her children, are spread throughout the Universe with her message," she said as her friends' hands and lips teased the young man back to duty.

"We will take her message to other worlds, and cleanse them of this plague of wanton destruction as well," the third woman laughed as the second eased even farther down on the lad with gasps of astonished delight. "Our children will be messengers of love and caring, of understanding, trained to fight most shrewdly when they must, but also taught when to fight, and why to fight as well as how."

"And when not to fight, or at least when not to fight with physical weapons," the first woman finally sighed, hugging her lovely friend and tugging her even farther down onto the boy's magnificent member as the woman shuddered again and again. "She deserves this, does she not?" she asked the lad, who was moaning softly as the second woman clenched most beautifully around him.

"I, ohhhh, I suppose you all do," the young man sobbed, spending again in the woman shuddering and moaning while she rode him eagerly. "I be not long for this world," he croaked, "but the bards will sing that I died standing eagerly upright, and that I did my duty and beyond."

"You don't get away that easily, boy," the second witch moaned as she braced herself on his muscular chest with trembling hands. "The bards will sing your lay for another reason entirely," she giggled, kneading his muscular breast with both hands as she grinned down at him from both ends, although that other mouth was quite, strainingly, full.

"If you say anything that amusing again, sister, I will be forced to spank you again as well," the third woman laughed as the first groaned and put one hand over her eyes. "I will let him hold you for me," the third woman purred, and swatted the reddish-haired one's ass as she posted up and down on the gasping young man.

"He, he can hold me like this forever!" the second woman wailed, shuddering again as her climax whirled her around and around, or might have if her knees had not been gripping the young man's hips possessively. "Forever," she whimpered, bending down to press an impassioned kiss on the trembling boy, who spent in her yet again when her lips pressed softly against his...

"'Tis most unfair of you to attempt to keep him for yourself," the third woman teased as she gently spanked her friend's upthrust ass. "You so deserve this, lovely wench," she purred, kneading as much as she was spanking now while the first woman beamed at them all.

"I almost regret taking him away from the poor King," the first woman giggled. "Roderick will have to go far to experience anything this impressive again."

"I am not," the young man sobbed, "sorry for any of this." He caressed the second woman's face tenderly, an expression of amazed delight on his face, and all three of them laughed softly as they caressed him as well. "I will serve as ably as I may, for as long as I am allowed to do so, and count this day blessed."

"We do so as well," the third woman laughed, while the first nodded and touched her friends lovingly. "Our Mother has shown us another miracle today, and we are in awe of her understanding and love."

"Yes," the young man sighed, nearly sobbing as the second woman eased up and off him, and the third bent to lick and suck him clean, and fully hard again. "Yes, and yes again, and this Mother you worship has yet another devotee in me. I, you all, ohhhh, I will worship Her through, and in, you all if that is all I am allowed to do, for the rest of my eternity."

"You are sweet," the third woman laughed as her other loves cuddled and giggled faintly. "Very sweet," she said, licking gently up his astonishing staff and trembling with desire as it grew fully hard for her. "And most challengingly endowed," she moaned as she straddled him and eased herself down onto the tip, then further down as he sobbed and reached up to fondle her breasts.

"You will have many years to worship Her, both through us and directly," the first woman said, smiling with delight as the third woman gasped and eased down a bit more, then again. "If you want, if you permit us to do so, we will teach you many things while we test the limits of your endurance,

"The depths of your humor," the second woman sighed, smiling dreamily at the young man.

"And the capability of your mind," the third woman moaned, thinking she was all the way onto him at last until she relaxed a bit and gained the last straining half an inch. "I, yes, already love your mind," she whimpered, her eyes half closed as she slowly grew accustomed to his girth.

And their children grew up in a world that no longer lionized greed and destruction, where the priests of the fraudulent God they had created from nothing but their own desire to rule over others no longer held sway. Their children were taught many truths, and how to best identify lies, and cleverness and inventiveness were lauded while repression by the merely strong was no longer tolerated.

And their many times great grandchildren burst out into the Universe, taking truth and tolerance with them, as well as the ability and the desire to learn new things. They made many new friends, and their clan grew immense, gaining more friends wherever they went, and gaining respect even among the beings who viewed them as enemies. For theirs was a way of love and understanding, enough love and understanding to teach bullies wherever they found them that there was a better way...

not the end...