On the highest mountain peak there stood the tallest tower, wickedly jagged and blackened with flame, built on a foundation of dead kings and noble princes, holding the last pure maiden in all the land. Only one daring knight had the courage and cunning to win this fair lady's heart and bring her home a merry, blushing bride...
*
Celeste held her lady-in-waiting's hand tightly as another hero burst forth into the tower chamber, eager to rescue her. The stony steps leading up to her welcoming bed were littered with the dead, some mangled, others charred, all potential lovers and rescuers, gone forever.
The instrument of their deaths had dropped from the ceiling, a snarling red dragon, whose sole purpose in life was to guard buxom maidens and gorge himself on dashing knights. Ouros was a legendary beast, infamous for his murderous rage, scorching breath and startling punctuality. And gold, he liked that too.
The knight landed before the dragon and took off his helmet, flashing a smile at the quivering maiden. His hair was long and dark, flowing about from his gallant moves, as he evaded the dragon's swiping claws. He was tall, dark and handsome, and no doubt right royal, framed in the prodigality of nature
Celeste swooned at his impressive looking gestures. "Oh Ingrid! This may be the one, to rescue me for good and save me from a life of spinsterhood, my hero!"
Ingrid looked amused, her demeanor calm as she soothed her charge, smoothing her neck as she brought herself to her lady's ear. "Yes mistress, I too suspect your day has come. No maiden lays unclaimed forever...and being the last of all tower maidens, you are much like the last unicorn, yearning for its rider."
Celeste smiled, looking into Ingrid's crystalline eyes. Her eyes drifted down, taking in the details of her diaphanous gown, showing off the caramel swell of her voluminous cleavage. She wondered how she had maintained such a good tan in such a dreary place, or how her golden hair always seemed to radiate light, in lieu of proper styling potions.
For that matter, Celeste wondered how
she
managed to look so...pure. Her ruddy auburn hair flowed down to her waist, lustrous and radiant, as it framed her burgeoning cleavage, ivory-white mounds full of life, pouting against her silken dress. Her creamy skin seemed to shine with her inner innocence, gleaming with the untainted virtue of her years, her smile warm and nurturing.
Since time immemorial, her life memories consisted of waking up, being fed by Ingrid, and brushing her hair as she watched the dragon kill noble heroes. It was as if the sole reason for her being was to be rescued, having no remembrances of any family, or even how Ingrid came to the tower. It was a trying existence, but today felt special. Today felt different, today things changed forever.
She looked back to her savior, the knight. She didn't know much about combat, only that he had a sword and it was best used for swinging and stabbing, something he seemed to be doing plenty of. His dance with the dragon was of the most intricate sort, moving to and fro, fro and to! His artful swordplay was so fast he moved as a blur, his weapon a metallic extension of himself, twirling and swirling around the dragon like a bladed rose petal, marking the dragon with small cuts as he evaded his gnashing jaws and blasts of flame.
It went so fast that Ingrid was surprised when the dragon suddenly roared and fell over, seemingly on top of the knight. She waited with bated anticipation and rejoiced when she saw her hero stand up, kicking the beast's head as he withdrew his mighty sword from its eye.
Celeste squealed with excitement as the knight with a roguish grin, confident step and manly aura ascended the steps to finalize his heroic deed. She held back from hyperventilating, flapping her hands frantically as she tried to calm herself down.
The knight bowed down before her bed. "M'lady, I am Sir Rodrigo del Fuego and I am he-" he was cut short as a massive jagged blade erupted through his chest, his face a mix of rage and pain as an unreasonably voluminous gout of blood spewed out of his mouth, his corpse tumbling down the steps as his killer withdrew his blade.
The man who stood before her was clearly a knight, clad in pitch armor, rent with dents, scratches and punctures that bespoke of a life filled with gratuitous violence and conquest. "I am the Black Knight. He was here to kill you. I saved you. Now spread your legs."
Celeste was taken aback, her dreams shattered. She imagined being taken home by a handsome, strapping lord in shining armor, rippling with muscles, multilingual of course, with riches beyond measure! And when he took her home to his majestic castle there would be cake, parades and babies too! She didn't think it was too much to ask. "No....I'm sorry, I can't..."
Ingrid crawled across the bed, seizing her by the neck, with a level of force unbecoming of a caretaker. "You must! My lady, you are his by right of victory, the quest is fulfilled, the maiden saved...you must offer yourself up to him, it would be unladylike not to."
She relented, the shame of being known as a dishonest, ungrateful maiden would be too much. She looked up to her knight, running her slight hands down his war torn armor. She removed his helmet, gasping as she saw his skin was as gray as the castle tower, his face sharp featured and noble, but tarnished with a merciless and brutal soul. She felt some sympathy for the man, he must have had a hard life for his complexion to be so colorless.
She reached for his face giving him a little peck on the lips. The knight went for more, grabbing her by the hair and forcing his tongue down her throat as he gripped her full ass, his fingers squeezing around her soft buns. Celeste squirmed in his grip, moaning in surprise and pleasure. How unknightly! He acted in a manner more suited to a barbarian from the frozen wastes than a noble of the realm. She hated how it turned her on, as she found herself grinding against his groin.