Dear readers,
Allow me to regale you with tales of horror, and beauty, and seduction and love- making. Allow me to entertain you with tales that span over centuries and continents -- and are as timeless as time itself. Allow me to take you beyond the reaches of time and space -- to the Romuthian Age, when the Earth was yet young, and the stars forming, and the moon shone twice as bright as it does now. And on the Earth, glittering kingdoms lay spread like diamonds from a broken necklace -- kingdoms that warred among themselves -- vying for land and power. But supreme of these kingdoms was Utopia, the land of bold Knights and comely maidens -- the valour of the Knights as legendary as the beauty and allure of the maidens. It is said that the fear felt at seeing the winged skull banner of the Utopian Knights was almost the same as the flash of desire experienced at seeing a Utopian woman disrobe.
Our tale begins on a winter day in Utopia, in a small village called Washawow on the far Eastern marches of the Kingdom. The Kingdom had been suffering unrest lately due to the frequent raids from the neighbouring kingdom of Harlotria, which was ruled by a queen who was as ruthless as she was alluring.
The lord of the village of Washawow, Lord Jaden Demokles was all but the last of an illustrious line of Knights, who had served the Kingdom. He was of the line of Lord Steren Demokles, who had single handedly impregnated each of the five hundred members of the elite Amazonian guard of Harlotria, in the space of only two years. Lord Steren begot Lord Madsin, who destroyed the temple of the evil demi-god Sedultra, who transformed nubile maidens into sexless zombies, and was rewarded with the lifelong admiration of the thousand acolytes of the temple. Lord Steren begot Lord Jaden, who seduced the King's wife, his daughter, and all of his concubines, in addition to many of his other illustrious deeds. This last exploit however, caused him to lose favour with the King, and he was sent to the Eastern marches, to ostentatiously guard the frontiers. Lord Jaden was childless, and the only surviving member of the Demokles line was a young lad of seventeen named Damien. Although young of age, he had the heart of a Knight, as he had already seduced most of the women of his age in the village, and some of their mothers as well, and had disposed off about fifty of their male relatives who had been so foolish as to challenge him in combat.
Lord Jaden sighed as he contemplated his evening glass of corn liquor. The snow outside was falling steadily though not heavily, and the roaring fire in the hearth felt good. He raised his hand and pulled on the bell cord, which caused the entry of Staten, his manservant, and erstwhile page.
"Send my nephew to me." He commanded.
The slight start of the servant did not escape his eyes, nor did his slighter hesitation before he remarked, politely "I believe Master Damien may be occupied, My Lord."
The patronisation of his servant did nothing to improve Lord Staten's temper, and he roared "Tell that horny son-of-a to get his lazy arse in here. He can go back to balling his tavern maids when I am done with him.'
The servant speedily departed to find Damien in his bedchamber with the door locked. Noises emanating from the room spoke for themselves about two consenting males enjoying each other's flesh. However, if he had possessed the ability of looking through doors, he would have seen the following scene:
Damien was riding a luscious little tavern-maid doggy style, piercing her tender pussy with short, hard strokes that left her squealing with pleasure. As his lust mounted, Damien grabbed the maid by hair and lifted her off the bed, leaving her to scream uncontrollably with pleasure as Damien's cock seemed to reach her innermost depths. Damien slapped her buttocks hard and fast, raising welts and reddening her cute little ass, and grabbed her nipples and twisted, causing the maiden to scream even louder with pleasure. Damien twisted her head around and was about to claim her lips with his own when there was a sudden loud knock on the door.
"Master Damien!" the voice of Staten was muffled but clear. "The master wants to see you in his chamber."
Damien raised his head and let pushed his dark hair out of his steel-grey eyes. The thin scar that ran down his temple to his eyebrows served only to accentuate his rugged good looks. Standing tall at six and a half feet, and boasting of the muscular physique that is so inherent of heroes, and a cock that was impressive in its length as well as its girth, he drew the eyes of females in any and every company. He pulled his ten inch cock out of the girl's pussy and dressed without so much as saying goodbye. His utter disregard of women was matched only by the ease with which he conquered them. Putting on his dark cloak and belting on his rapier, he left without a backward glance at the girl who was forced to masturbate furiously in order to relieve herself of the sexual tension that had built up within her.
Damien walked in the chamber with the same deadly grace that permeated his every movement, the grace of a panther lounging on the rocks, ready to explode into lethal movement. "You wanted to see me, Uncle Jaden?" he asked.
"Who was the wench?" Lord Jaden growled.
