D'Arc Tangent

Erotica
2001-11-21 02:10:47 (UTC)

Le Coeur Sauvage

I say these things not as an excuse for my actions, nor to
cleanse my soul of my past horrors, but because they are
true, and because if any man will learn from them, then I
may have done some good in the world. I am heathen. I am
brutal, and I am mercenary. I hire my arm to whomever will
pay, and i cared not what was required, only that it paid.
In my partial defense, I took no pleasure in the acts I
did, only the gold it brought me, but in some instances,
that may be worse, for it showed I had no passion for
anything but money. In times when there was no gold to
satisfy me, I took what I wanted from others who were
weaker. I may not have been evil, per se, but you cannot
convince my victims of that, but I was unlawful, unruly,
and wanton. I took whatever I wanted. I was going to say
needed, but I realize now that I rarely needed those things
I took. I took them because I wanted them, at the time,
and because I could. I preyed on the weaker beings around
me. Those who could not not defend themselves. And
women. For women it was far worse. Even with the gold, I
would not purchase my desires, but instead fed on the
innocent. I would hunt down the serf-girls, the farmers,
the young and innocent, and force them to grow up far
faster than they should have. To make matters worse, I
would not kill them, I would allow them to live with the
terror I inflicted upon them, bear whatever burden I may
have cast upon them. This, is what has been my downfall. I
have never suffered at the hands of the law, or the
mercenaries who were sent after me, but one day, after a
long, dry spell, I made camp in a dark wood, set my
perimeter, and settled in for a long, cold night. The moon
was high and bright when I awoke to the sounds of what
seemed to be a woman singing. Being the man I was, and
sought out this voice, and as I cleared the woods, I found
myself in a grotto. There was a small pond, a waterfall,
not of any great height, but large enough to be used as a
shower by the voice I had heard. She was incredibly
beautiful. She had long, raven hair, full round breasts,
and long, beautiful legs. I could have stayed where I was,
watching her as she cleaned herself in the waterfall, but
being the man I was, I only thought of satisfying myself.
I stripped off the leather I wore, dropped my sword, but
kept my knife with me and waded into the pond. There was
no subtlety about me, and my advances did not go without
notice, but although she looked at me, I saw no shame, no
fear, almost no acknowledgement other than I was there. My
arrogance did not allow me to consider these facts as I
stomped through the water toward her. I reached for her,
to take her arm and force myself upon her, but as my hand
entered the waterfall, it was as if acid had been poured on
me. My wrist burned, the pain seared my mind until I
pulled back, soaking my hand in the cool water. Still, she
continued her washing, and as I looked at my seared wrist,
I noticed no burn, no scar, nothing to prove what I know to
be fact. I was angry at the pain I had endured and lunged
at her, wanting to take her, make her mine, but as my body
pierced the sheet of water, again I was burned. My mind
reeled from the pain, my body began to blister, and I could
feel my flesh melting off me until I could bear it no
longer and pulled back. Once I was in the pond again, I
felt no pain, saw no scars. I moved back to the shore,
took my shield, and holding it over my head, I plunged once
more into the waterfall. The water hit my shield, and as
if it was not even there, poured upon my head in all its
burning. I screamed at the pain and fell back, and this
time the woman came out of the waterfall and laughed. It
was a cruel laugh, and it angered me far more than the pain
of that cursed waterfall, but this time she was not IN the
waterfall, and throwing down my shield, I pulled my knife
and lunged at her. It was as if she were a ghost. I leapt
at her, knife in the my hand, ready to come down into her
heart, but all stabbed at was the water of the pond. I
sat in the pond, and stared where she should have been, and
she was still there, still laughing at me, mocking my
inability to take what I wanted from her. Then she sat in
the pond, running her hands through the water like she was
a child, playing in a tub. I leapt to my feet, the world
red with my anger and I jumped at her again. I was not
going through her this time, I wanted to land ON her, to
push her under the shallow water, to hold her there until
she could laugh no more, but as I landed in the pond, she
was not beneath me, she was sitting atop me, and I could
feel her weight holding me under. I struggled, not wanting
to meet the same fate I had in store for her. I tried to
free myself, but she would not allow me up, and as I
gasped, I swallowed water until I thought my lungs would
burst, and as the darkness of death began to swim over me,
I gasped one last time, and I was sitting in the pond, the
woman before me, laughing at me. I was spent, though. The
anger had washed over me, and although I wanted nothing
more than to see this woman dead. I had not the strength to
move. "You are a very foolish man." Other than the
laughing, that was the first thing I had heard her say.
Her voice was soft, with a tinge of the highlands in it,
but it was said so coldly, not mocking, not condescending,
but as if it was a statement of fact that she had tried to
teach me. She could easily have been saying "The sky is
blue." for all the feeling there was in that statement.

"Do you believe that women are here for you? That we are
not but toys for your play?"

It sounded like she expected an answer. "DO YOU!" she
shouted, and her dark eyes went black as night, and I swear
I saw the stars twinkling in them. "Why will you not
answer me you brutish oaf!" she ranted, but what could I
say. Fear had unmanned me, and I was afraid that anything
I might say would provoke her. I do not know why, but
suddenly, I wondered if this was what my victims felt when
I killed them. Knowing that there was nothing they could
do to stop the inevitable. "You prey on the helpless. The
weak, the innocent. You assume that by sheer will of
might, you are better than any other. That you deserve to
take whatever you please, because it pleases you to do so.
Am I correct!" and although it sounded like a question, I
do not think it was proposed as one.

"You are a pathetic little man. You have nothing, you are
nothing, and when you die, you will not be remembered by
anyone. You are not even a man." and that last statement
dripped like venom from her teeth. "STAND UP!" she
shouted, and although I was weak from the near drowning,
naked, afraid, I was more afraid of what she might do if I
did not obey.

"You are fair enough to look at, and I am sure you could
please a woman, if you ever thought that was necessary."
she said as she walked around me, touching me. I felt like
I was some specimen. An object she was examining for
purchase. I did not like it, but I was still full too much
of fear. "Well muscled. You
could put in a fair days work. A little slow, apparently,
but I am sure you
could learn to read. You do not read?" and all I could do
was shake my head.
"Thought so. Probably can barely count. You probably
demand a fixed tribute
for your work, so you always know what to expect, and it
probably is not too
much to begin with. You are slow, stupid, and work beneath
your merit. You are
pitiful, useless, and I really should just kill you now.
Would you like that?"
and again, all I could do was shake my head. "Did you
offer this choice to any
of the men you killed?" I shook my head, "The women you
raped?" again, I shook
my head, "So, since you never give anyone else a choice,
should I give you the
choice?" and all I could do was shake my head again.
"I am really quite amazed. I do not know if you are
feeling remorse, or if
shaking your head is the only think you know how to do.
Now tell me, TELL ME,
shall I just kill you, or shall I let you live?"
"Live." was all I could manage to croak out. It sounded in
my ears like a
word, but I am sure it was no more than a grunt by the time
it made it's way to
her.
"What was that? Were you actually forming a thought, or
were just
mimicking a word you heard that sounded right?"
"I..want..to..live." and the force of that statement caused
me to fall to
my knees.
"There, there now, do not over exert yourself. That has
probably more
words that you have said in your life. Your mind was be
numbing with pain.
She approached me, and placed one small hand under my chin,
lifted my face,
and kissed me softly, tenderly, on the lips. My arms moved
up to hold her, and
as they touched her naked body she hit me with such force
that I fell back into
the pond. I could taste blood from my cut lip.
"I did not say you could touch me." she shouted. "Never
touch me. Never
touch ANYONE unless they say so, do you understand me?"
I nodded. I felt my head was going to come off from the
nodding, but I
nodded my understanding.
"Good. Now get over here." and I obeyed. I stood before
her. I towered
over her actually. I could have taken this woman anytime.
She was small,
frail, with long sultry legs, firm round breasts, and soft,
full lips. My
desire at her nakedness was apparent, but I did not
care. "I see you like me."
she said, "I see that you have designs." and she grabbed my
stiffening manhood,
holding it tightly, but not not harshly. She began to
stoke it, flicking her
thumb across the head, circling the purple tip with her
forefinger as she
stroked up and down the shaft until I could feel the
pressures welling inside
me. I reached for her. I wanted so much to grab her, to
take her, to have my
will with her. I wanted to plunge my shaft deep inside
her, but as soon as my
hands grasped her shoulders she picked me up, one hand on
my chest, the other
still holding my manhood in her hand, and she dumped me
back in the pond.
"I told you never, NEVER, touch me. Do you understand!"
and she kicked me
in the stomach. "You will NOT touch me." kick, "You will
never touch me," kick,
"and you will never, ever, touch ANYONE, anymore. DO I
MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!" and
she landed such a sharp kick to my stomach I emptied my
breakfast into the pond.
"You are not worthy of a woman. You are a pathetic, weak
little man. You are
selfish, oafish, egotistical,... " and soon I did not even
understand the names
she was calling me, but the tirade went on forever. When
she was done, she
grabbed my hair, dragged me to the shore, and laid me on my
back. She straddled
me. I lay on the ground, looking up at her soft, black
tuft between her legs,
the wholesome roundness of her breasts, and her face,
framed by an aura of
blackness, surrounded by the stars. She then kneeled over
me, and moved down my
legs, and began once more to massage my manhood. To caress
me, to excite me. I
could feel myself getting stiff. My heart was racing, but
I was so afraid of
what would happen if I reacted, I stayed still, motionless,
not wanting to move
for fear she take offence. Her hands were soft, and
tender, and I enjoyed the
touch, but each time I wanted to touch her as well, I felt
the fear of her wrath
grip my heart. Suddenly, I felt warmth on my manhood. I
felt wet, and I felt
something sharp. I lifted my head to see what was
happening, and I saw her
mouth covering me. I wanted to scream, afraid she was
going to bite me, when
suddenly it felt good. I could feel her tongue on me,
licking me, and I could
feel the slow sucking she was making, and I could feel
myself rising. My body
was ready to explode when she suddenly stopped, and I sank
back to the ground.
I could feel my heart starting to slow, the sweat on my
body was beginning to
chill in the cold morning air, but my manhood was still
erect and she was not
going to let that go to waste. I felt her slide atop me,
could feel her
enclosing my manhood completely, then she began to slowly
rock, sliding up and
down, putting in a slight sideways motion once in awhile,
massaging my manhood
until I could feel myself ready, then she would stop, and I
felt myself relax,
but everytime I began to enjoy it, I remembered what would
happen if I made a
move, and the fear took me over again. It was not until
the I could feel the
warming of the dawn that she allowed me to finally release
myself, and as my
heart began to settle down, and the warming sun dried the
sweat from my flesh,
she was gone.
It was the most frightening night of my life, and since, I
have not felt
the desire to enforce my will on others since, and
attempted to learn enough
words to relate this tale.