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The Sisterhood Of Nin Returns
Chapter One: A Passionate Princess
The night rests deeply on the dark land of Candalaria and even the light of the full moon seemed to fight to penetrate the thick cloud cover that settled over the castle keep which sat on the mountain by the sea.
In the highest tower of the keep, a faint glow can be seen through the portal window, an unearthly, flickering illumination. Inside the room, on a low table an immense crystal ball sat in the center, seemingly suspended in mid-air. Before the table there sat two cloaked and hooded figures, each facing the table and unmoving.
The surface of the crystal ball flickered, flared, and an image began to take shape. Colors solidified, dimensions were sorted out, and slowly a scene came into focus.
The watchers found themselves gazing at the interior of a well-lit room. A roaring fireplace was augmented by a flickering lamp hung from the ceiling. Rich tapestries hung on the walls, and the finely crafted furniture denoted that it was a place that belonged to someone of more than modest wealth. In the center of the room was a large luxuriously furred divan, the kind upon which kings would sleep.
And upon that divan, a man and woman fucked in an ever growing frenzy. He was big, almost six and a half feet tall, with awe-inspiring muscles, and upon his body there was no trace of fat. The hair of his head was light brown, and his skin was bronzed from the sun. His hard, tanned and muscular body was in sharp contrast to that of the girl he rode.
She was pale, with skin of pure alabaster, and her curvaceous form jiggled and quaked deliciously from the impacts of their energetic coupling. Long blonde hair spilled out around her head like a lion’s mane, and her blue eyes flashed up in joy at him as he pounded away into her.
Her legs cradled his hips and her arms prowled his back, dropping every now and then to grasp his plunging and gyrating buttocks and pull on them, aiding him in stuffing her as deeply as possible with his manhood.
They were both covered in sweat, and it was clear to the hooded onlookers that their sweaty fucking was nearing its conclusion.
Suddenly, one of the figures spoke.
"So," said the one who sat to the left. "We have found him." The voice was soft and feminine, and yet seemed to come from far away.
"Yes", said the other, also in a far away voice. "At last we know his location. And now we know we are too late."
As the man in the crystal ball raised himself up on his muscular arms, the horseshoes of his triceps leaping to bold relief as he began deliberately raising and dropping himself onto the wildly gyrating girl, the first speaker's hood moved a little to the side.
"What do you mean?" the hooded woman said, her voice curious.
"He's in Brythnia." the other said. "He's made a pact with the King there for use of the Brythunian Navy in the coming war. Our goal was to keep him from finding allies for his cause, and he's just made a key one."
There was a long pause as the hooded watchers fell silent again, and in the crystal the girl began throwing her head back and forth wildly, her hair filling the air and her large jiggly tits quaking and shaking as the man continued to fuck the living daylights out of her.
"All we've seen is that he's tupping some local tart," the first speaker said at last. "How can you tell he's made any pact?"
"Because you don't know Brythnia, of course." the other one shot back in a condescending tone. "It's an ancient custom, seldom used, so he must have made one hell of an impression on the King there."
The second hooded watcher lifted a hand from the chair's armrest and pointed a hand with many intricate rings on it to the crystal ball.
"Look there, around the girl's throat."
The image in the crystal ball zoomed in, past the beautiful girl's ecstatic face. Around her neck, there was a golden chain, and in the valley between her jiggly, sweat-sheened tits was a golden seagull suspended from the necklace.
"That is the crest of the house of Brythunia." the speaker continued. "Which means the girl is a princess of the realm, since only members of the royal family can wear the crest."
The other watcher cocked her head to the side. "Do you mean to tell me that to seal a pact with the King there he's FUCKING the King's own daughter?"
The other gave a nod of her hooded head. "Yes, that's how the custom went. When a treaty was made between Brythnia and another kingdom, to show the other party just how highly esteemed they were in the King's eyes, he made a point of offering his own daughter to the negotiator. The reasoning behind that is that if the King does not withhold his most precious possession from the other party, he will no doubt honor the bargain just struck."
The other woman let out a snort. "Typical custom of a male dominated society. I wonder if anybody bothered to ask the girl how she felt about climbing into bed with a stranger?"
Her companion gave a short laugh. "She doesn't look too upset by the arrangement at all, does she?"
The girl beneath the man was now lying still, having obviously just finished a thunderous spend. She was gazing up at him in awe, her mouth gasping for breath and her hands pulling weakly at his back as he continued to pound her shapely ass into the divan.
Three thousand miles away from the room where the two hooded watchers sat, the large man stifled a groan as he pumped away on top of the girl. The pleasure was getting so intense he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer. It had been over five days since last he'd spent his seed, so his organ was filled to bursting with hot semen. His cock twitched deeply inside the gasping, sighing girl as he remembered that last spend.
Yasmina, chief Pleasure Girl of the House of Galdadrad had been sorry to see him go after his three-week diplomatic mission to Gonbor had come to end. Especially since he had spent many a night locked in frenzied passion with her after a long day of negotiating with that kingdom's dull nobles. As a parting present, she'd surprised him in the stables as he saddled his horse to leave, and sucked him off. Her oral skills were considerable, and after ten minutes of being teased and tantalized his throbbing cock had erupted like a rampaging volcano. Ten streams of thick seed had it spurted into the dusky beauty's waiting mouth as she gazed adoring up at him with those almond-shaped, cat-green eyes.
As he sagged weakly against the wall while she kissed and nuzzled his weakly spasming organ, he'd considered delaying his journey by another day so he could spend another night with Yasmina, and it had been tempting since he knew almost a week of hard, womanless journeying lay before him. But duty came first, and so he's settled for giving the girl a kiss that curled her toes and a promise to see her again if he passed that way.
The perfectly proportioned temptress beneath him at the moment recaptured his attention by grabbing his head and pulling him down into a passionate kiss and he felt the panting of her sweet breath as he continued pounding in and out of her. The sensations in his organ were increasing in their intensity with every loud, belly-smacking thrust, and he could feel the pent-up seed inside that big member straining for release, but he was loathe to simply let go and end this delightful fucking.
His long experience had taught him that he orgasmed more intensely when he fought it to the last, holding back and holding back until at last his penis triggered it's own orgasm. The surges of pleasure, the spurting of the seed, the aftermath, all were intensified if he held it back for as long as possible, instead of simply willing himself to orgasm, which he could do quite easily.
Still kissing the girl, he snaked his hands underneath her and grasped the firm, curvaceous mounds of her shapely buttocks. He broke their kiss and turned his face to the side, and she instinctively did the same.
Cheek to cheek, he began hunching and gyrating into her, and the girl went wanton.
"Oh...oh YES! Please, just like...OH! Oh, just like THAT! Oh, Gods, you're in so DEEP!"
She loved the new angles and depth of his penetration, and struggled to move with him, to fuck with him as he hunched and pumped into her with all his might.
The crystal ball flickered momentarily across the continent and over the sea. The hooded watchers still watched as the fucking before them continued.
Then one spoke again.
"How can we stop him if we can't find out where he is until it's too late? First Atlan, then Ramanda, Indistan, Gonbor and now Brythnia. He's being successful in building his alliance and if we wait too long he'll be too strong."
The other lifted a well-manicured hand and gestured to the crystal ball.
"You know very well we just got this from Mordread. And that most of our spies in the Coastlands have been driven out or killed. What's past is past. What matters now is how we can turn this to our advantage."
"You mean how can we use it to kill him?"
The other speaker gave a slow nod. "Of course. That's what it's all about. Killing him."
The hooded watcher on the left gave her head a cock to one side again. "But he's supposed to be immortal, isn't he? How do we kill an enemy that has been made eternal by the Goddess Aphrodite herself?"
"All in good time." the other said with a sniff. "You worry too much."
"No," the other woman insisted, "it's that I just don't know much about him. All you older witches are very closed mouth about his past, and at the same time us younger witches are supposed to help fight him."
