Claiming Her Destiny

All characters are fictional and any comparisons to real people or other works are purely coincidental, though inspired by history. All characters are aged 18+.

It was only the sensation of the girl's tongue inside her that told Tamura the girl was still breathing.

Nestled in the pile of furs by the yurt's hearthfire, the Sarmatian princess kneeled with her cunt pressed down hard on the younger woman's face. An unfortunate necessity, but the girl's whining was distracting Tamura from her fun.

After a long day of riding her mare across the Caucasian steppe, her thighs were chafed and she stank of horse and sweat. But that wasn't going to stop her from enjoying her second favourite mount.

They'd been going long enough that the scent of Tamura's sex had mingled with the rather less charming odours of a horse warrior's tent - charcoal, damp, smoke, sweat, manure and of course - horse. The heady aroma would have turned the stomach of civilised person, but to Tamura there was no sweeter bouquet.

The girl was doing her best, she supposed, but clearly had neither the experience nor the passion for eating cunt that Tamura expected.

The girl had been the daughter of petty chieftan of one of the endless, interchangable mountain clans that they had met as the horde swept down from Sarmatia across the Caucasian mountains. Unusually, the chief had tried to fight the horde rather than offer tribute.

That has been a mistake. Tamura had split his skull open with an arrow herself. Why these fools continually failed to grasp what a "horse archer" was and why it was a bad idea to fight them wearing heavy armour in an open field was beyond her.

And to the victor go the spoils. It was pretty slim pickings to be honest, barely two dozen women, a few weeks of supplies and some paltry treasures. Tamura, as the Warchief, had first pick.

It had been a moment of weakness to go for the dead chief's prettiest daughter. She was thinking about what her father would do, what her brothers would do. The girl was clearly too delicate for Tamura's tastes - a man may be happy with a delicate little thing to just lay there and take it, but she needed something more.

Sunake, her shieldsister and closest friend, had clearly chosen more wisely, if the screams of pleasure from the neighbouring tent were anything to go by. Sunake had chosen a peasant girl with rough hands and broad shoulders, and it clearly wasn't the girl's first time making a woman scream in delight.

"Lucky bitch" thought Tamura, as pinched the nipple of the girl beneath her, who was starting to annoy her with her lacklustre performance. She barked a command for the girl to go faster.

The girl's tongue moved faster and deeper inside her, and Tamura began to finally settle into a decent rhythm grinding her cunt into the girl's face. She closed her eyes and started to moan.

After a few minutes, she was getting bored again, and looked down at the girl. Tamura's thick blonde pubic hair was slick with spit, cum and sweat. It clung to the girl's face like moss to a stone. Beneath, the girl's long mousy brown hair, braided in the style of the region, was splayed out on the furs. The girl's delicate features were mostly obscured, and her long slender nose was currently an inch inside Tamura. She had bright green eyes, and in them Tamura could see both fear and disgust, the former battling to prevent the latter showing.

Tamura reached a hand behind her to the girl's cunt, and found it dry as a bone. She grunted in annoyance.

She'd never asksd the girl's name. There was no point. There never was, with these ones. Especially not one that was doing such a poor job.

She would have to give the girl to one of the men in her warband. It would be a great honour to receive the princess' leftovers, and it always paid to be a generous leader with a mission like her's. The fact that she could cover up that she'd picked her prize poorly was a nice bonus.

If the girl did a better job with the warrior, she might be lucky enough to become a favoured concubine, or even a wife. More likely, the girl would be used, passed on down the chain until she was just another camp whore. Or simply left by the side of the road with a swollen belly and nothing to offer the world but some incredibly well-used holes.

The thought of the girl's suffering sent a wave of excitement through Tamura. She clenched around the girl's head and started riding harder than she would in the heat of battle. Her powerful thighs risked the snapping the girl's neck, but to the girl's credit, she did not stop eating even as Tamura screamed curses to the sky.

A few mnutes later and Tamura let out a deep growl as she came over the girl's face. The air was now heavy with the scent of her cum, and the girl was soaked in her juices.

As she finally relented and removed her cunt from the girl's face, there was an agonised rasp and spluttering as the girl sucked in the air she had been partially deprived of for over an hour. She said something in her language, but Tamura ignored her as she rolled over onto the furs.

Tamura thought, as she often did, of how much she wished she could take her shieldsisters to bed instead of these war prizes. The women of her people, the Alani, fought as mounted warriors alongside their men. This left them skilled, muscular and permanently in need of some release from the thrill of battle. Everything Tamura needed.

And it wasn't like they hadn't done so extensively already. As girls, they had grown, learned and trained together. They had gone of their first hunts, practiced their bows, broken in their first horses side by side. And at night, as the fires died down, they had learned other things together, curled up beneath the heavy furs of their tents.

Sanuke had been her favourite, and she was by no means the only one. The girl's strength was legendary across many tribes, and Tamura had experienced it first hand to her great delight.

However, it was right that they could not lay together now. On raids, especially so far from home, it complicated things too much to have those feelings cloud judgements. And inevitably, some warriors would always fall. She had already buried more than one woman she had loved in her relatively short life, and she did not desire to do it again.

And then of course, there were the men. Only about a third of any warband was female, and the men made up the majority of the hand to hand fighters. Tamura had known at a very early age that men held nothing of interest to her, but she begrudgingly understood that many women in the tribe found some appeal in them. And it didn't do to have a significant portion of your horde falling pregnant, especially over a long campaign.

And so the rule was made that no shieldsister or shieldbrother could lay with another while on campaign. Fortunately, there were plenty of spoils of war to make up for that. Even if they didn't quite hit the spot for Tamura.

She grunted and pushed herself up from the furs, her naked body gleaming with sweat across her toned form. She was by no means the most muscular woman in the horde, but she had clear wiry strength running down her sleek, 5'10 form.

She wiped her face and threw a rough tunic over herself, covering her small, tight breasts and still drenched bush from view.

The girl was still panting on the furs as Tamura stepped passed and opened the tent, the last of the evening sun shining into her crystal blue eyes and making her golden blonde hair glow like fire.

"Arite, come here" she called out to her nearest bodyguard. The short woman came over, her bulky, muscular form weighed down by the large Labrys held across her back.

"Yes, Warchief?" Arite said.

"Take this wretch to Dadagos and tell him it's his reward for his valour today. Say his princess expects him to kill twice as many at the next engagement. "

"As you command, Warchief."

Arite roughly hauled the girl onto her feet and prodded her out into the camp. The girl looked sullen and dazed as she trudges through the mud and dung, without even wraps on her feet.

"Dadagos was a good choice" Tamura thought to herself. He was brave, skilled and stupid. And he held significant sway with the men - keeping him happy with worthless sluts was a smart decision.

"And, he has a particular love of roughly degraded wenches in the tighter, less natural of their holes" her inner thoughts whispered. That would be a suitable punishment for the girl's poor effort.

Tamura smiled to herself. She did not think of herself as a cruel woman. Not to everyone, at least. She loved her warband like family, and she did not indulge in killing or torture without due cause.

But, in her view, the world was full of the weak and the strong. And it was only right that the strong delighted and the weak suffered. Why else would the gods divide the world so?

She looked out to the horizon. The sun was setting over the mountains and casting a long glow onto the plains to the south. She knew what lay beyond them - or at least, she had dreamed about it.

The gods had sent her a vision of her destiny - to be a scourge the likes of which the world had never seen. She had not even seen twenty summers, but she knew by the time she departed this world, her name would echo throughout history.

The merchants and travellers had told tales of wonderous far off lands. Of the mystical lands of Parthia and Persia. Of the fertile bounty of ancient Babylon. Of the marvels and great cities of Egypt and Greece. All of these lands full of riches, glory and spoils of a more feminine nature.

And greatest of all, the legends of the Empire known as Rome. An Empire that spanned untold distances with wealth never before known to man or woman.

An Empire that was ripping itself to shreds, locked in a three way civil war that looked without end. And in the east of that Empire, a Queen had arisen in the desert seeking to stake her claim to the mightiest Empire the world had ever known.

Tamura had seen in her dreams all of these lands and their many bounties. And she would taste them all.