I bumped and rolled in the sack as I was dragged along the forest for what felt like hours. It had been long enough that I stopped wondering about who kidnapped me and why, but I could only ponder over my own ailments. The cuts, bruises, and broken bones I sustained in the capture and the travel since.
It was only weeks prior that I had set out on my adventure, leaving my village and family behind. Being eighteen now, I had a choice, if you could call it that. Be forced to marry one of the three girls of my approximate age and of no relation to me, then purchase land to farm on loan from either my father or my homely bride’s father. From there, my life would have been decided for me. Enslaved to my debts, I would spend decades farming to pay off the dowry I owed for a wife I did not want and land I did not choose, only to have children of my own–not out of desire but out of necessity for cheap labor.
Given this grim-sounding future, I renounced my pitiful inheritance, and my father renounced me. My village cast me out, and I left gratefully. Living off the berries I picked, the leaves I boiled, and the game I could hunt with my bow, I walked for weeks south. Farther south than any man in my village had ever gone into the thick woods. There were towns beyond the forest, or so traders told us when they came through. Large towns with trade and markets–each ten times the size of the pitiful village I scrounged about all my life. Oh, how I longed to see something so wondrous. My excitement and foolhardiness might have proved to be my folly, though. Instead of following the long, winding trail around the Tormented Forest as the traders did, I cut through the land.
After all, I have been through many woods to hunt as a teen; why fear this one? I thought.
I barely made it a day’s walk into the Tormented Forest before being swept up. I was a strong man and a survivor, but that didn’t make me a warrior. At six feet tall, brown-haired, and well-muscled, I could deter most fights before being challenged with my youth. That said, I had never held a sword or shot a bow at anyone other than a deer. If my captor was a true warrior, I would stand little chance against him. I got only a glance at my taker before the burlap sack was wrapped around me. I must’ve hit my head because it looked like a woman, but that could not be. She was taller and broader-shouldered than any woman I had seen. My eyes were surely just making a fool of myself. But that didn’t matter anymore.
The burlap sack and I inside it struck a downed tree and rolled over it, crashing to the ground with a thud. I groaned, and I heard a horse neigh in response.
I am a fool for leaving my village. I left with the clothes on my back, my bow, and five arrows, and now I’m about to lose all of those things, plus my life, all in pursuit of adventure. A fool’s tale, this is…
“Haughty!” a voice called out. “Is what you caught inside that sack?”
“It is,” my captor replied as she mercifully slowed to a halt.
“You fool! You could have broken him!”
“A man broken so easily isn’t a man at all.”
I panted and struggled to right myself inside the sack. When I finally thought I had succeeded, suddenly, the sack was pulled, and I was dumped out onto the dirt like a sack of potatoes. Coughing into the dirt, I rolled to my backside. Setting sunlight cut between the many women who stood over me, each peered down on me with inquisitive expressions, but it wasn’t their beautiful faces or gorgeous figures that caught my attention first; it was their size.
Tall, lean, and long of reach, every single one of them. The shortest among them must have been six feet tall. Scantily dressed, they walked without fear of harassment from men, and it was easy to see why–besides their size, they each carried a spear or sword at their side. Dozens of them. Perhaps this was a dream. Why would so many sizeable women be dressed like harlots but armed like warriors?
“See? Not broken,” Haughty, my captor, announced, self-satisfied. She was black of hair that was cut short so it brushed her shoulders. Her face was angled in a permanent scowl as she stared down at me.
“Ugh, Haughty, you will be the death of us all,” another woman said, stepping forward. “He is barely in one piece!”
Haughty shrugged dismissively and disappeared into the crowd of dozens who had formed a circle around me.
“My name is Andeese. What is your name?” the second woman asked.
“Daniel,” I said hesitantly. “Where am I? Why have I been taken?”
“I apologize for your treatment thus far,” Andeese replied, her eyes undoubtedly searching the crowd for Haughty to glare at. “As for the answers you seek, they must wait. You require care for your injuries.”
Andeese’s fingers gently touched my arms, body, and legs, inspecting me like a mother would after a bad fall.
“Izabella,” she called, and a younger woman about my age stepped forward. “See to this boy. Make him well.”
“Yes, mother,” Izabella said with a brief bow.
It wasn’t until I was carried into one of the larger keeps on the far side of their village that I felt the pain in my leg sing louder than the rest of my pains. Several women fussed around me inside the hut, whispering and giggling at my struggles to not cry out in pain. They started a small fire in the fireplace but were dismissed when Izabella entered. She spent several minutes mixing potions and grinding herbs and various leaves with a bald rock and stone before bringing a tonic to me to drink.
I pulled back reflexively, “What is it?”
“A tonic for your wounds,” the girl replied. She batted her eyelashes, and a soft smile crept onto her lips. “I will not harm you. I give you my word.”
It was strange. Despite my recent kidnap and treatment in travel, I found myself believing Izabella’s words completely. Reluctantly, I took the small cup and downed the bitter liquid. Izabella’s smile grew slightly, and I was immediately ensorcelled.
Now, I must remove your shirt,” she said as she was already doing so. Izabella hissed a sympathetic sound as she saw a checkerboard of black, off-green, and purple bruises covering my arms, chest, and back. “Ooo… You are fragile.”
I shrugged, “When hit against the ground repeatedly, I tend to break before the Earth does.”
“Hm, it is so,” Izabella said as she mixed an ointment together. With a wooden bowl in one hand, she knelt beside me and applied the balm to my bruises. Her palm was gentle as it rubbed over my skin. When she leaned close to apply it to my neck, I could smell her natural odor of lilacs and berries and felt my heart palpate in my chest. Izabella’s top was blue and was barely half a shirt. The two folds crossed below her cleavage, hardly covering her ample breasts. Her belly was exposed, revealing a piercing on her belly button that was a silver chain of emeralds that dangled several inches lower.
Licking my lips, I adjusted my position slightly as I felt a warmth fill me. Izabella closed her eyes and parted her lips for several seconds as her hands continued to rub my neck and shoulders despite there being nothing left to rub into me. Suddenly, she blinked, saw me staring at her, and quickly stood, returning to her table of supplies.
“We, uh, we must remove your pants now,” she flicked a look at me. “I must see your leg.”
“Uh, I don’t- um,” I hesitated, glancing down at my lap, but before I could respond, Izabella was at my side. In one swift motion, she tore the fabric at the seams, and I was naked. I covered myself feebly. The act of tearing my pants off was concerningly easy for her, and yet she knelt at my side, panting and struggling to hide it.
Taking my foot in her lap, she found the break in my ankle and carefully set the bone, splinted it, and began to wrap it in a strong material. I didn’t know if it was the tonic she gave me or the level of my infatuation with her, but I barely felt the pain of my wounds. My eyes followed the curve of her smooth skin along her thick thighs. The blue skirt she wore was long on one side but was raised to just below her hips on the other side. It allowed me to see her long leg and left a shadow beneath her skirt where her sex was. I felt my manhood grow and flex beneath my hands and failed to hide it.
Izabella was about to begin applying the healing ointment to the bruises on my legs when she staggered from her kneeling position and caught herself.
“Are–are you okay?” I asked, concerned.
She blinked, rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath, “Yes, just–I was dizzied.” She regained her composure and smiled coyly at me. The crackling fire shadowed the gentle curves of her face as night fell outside, “You are very kind to ask.”
Not knowing what to say, I remained silent, and she began applying the lotion to me. She began with my ankles and calves, but when she neared my thighs, I was throbbing so hard I worried I’d injure myself. Izabella leaned over me. Her lips were inches from mine. Her shirt dangling open for me to see her swaying breasts beneath her clothes. I felt a drip of pre-cum ooze from the tip of my penis and saw a weakness form in Izabella’s eyes as she stared into mine. It was a rabid desperateness I had never seen before, as if she was drunk at my sight.
Her hand slipped up my inner thigh where I had no bruises, and I felt her fingers brush on the underside of my ball sack. Lips parted and breathing heavily, Izabella rolled my testicles between her fingers for several seconds before her exploring touch raised to my shaft.
She leaned forward as I did in a trance, and we kissed. Her warm lips matched mine as our tongues met and tasted another. Her fingers dragged up my shaft to the tip and back down several times before I felt her fingers close around me. A shiver went through her, and she groaned into our kiss when my cock flexed in her palm, and she stroked me slowly and with passion.
“Let me see you,” she said, breaking from the kiss with hope in her eyes as she glanced down. It was then I realized my hands still covered myself. Removing them, I saw the wonder and excitement in Izabella’s eyes as she continued to stroke me. The intensity of her attention was as intoxicating as her touch. I had never been with a woman before. There were so few in my village that I could barely even speak to anyone outside of the purview of my family. Now, this gorgeous woman couldn’t get enough of me.
My hands reached out to touch her breasts, but they moved too timidly for her. Izabella pounced upon me with alarming speed and strength. Kissing me hard, she stroked me with one hand while lying on top of me. I panted as I watched her hike her skirt up, revealing her glistening tight lips.
A million questions passed through my mind at once and with speed that made it difficult to focus. There were a thousand reasons for me to stop what she was doing to me and only one reason not to, but that one reason was powerful at that moment. I felt the warmth and moisture of her pussy as she fed the tip of my cock between her pussy lips. I gasped as I entered her.
“Ohhh…” Izabella moaned as she threw her head back. I gripped her hips but could do little to nothing compared to her strength. Even if I wanted to stop her, I couldn’t. The deeper down my shaft she slid, the more lost I became in the tight walls of her dripping sex.
“Ohhh, my God, yes. Deeper!” she demanded, then sat on my lap. “Oh fuck!”
I winced, worried that her screams would attract others–including Haughty, but there was no going back now. Izabella began to ride me. Her hips worked separately from her body, making her ass shake and waist circle me with every drop. The louder she moaned, the tighter I could feel her pussy walls squeeze on me.
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Give it to me! Release inside me! Ohh!” she cried.
Her downward thrusts became so powerful that my thighs went numb, and I worried a false move on my part could break a part of me in half. Then, between her thrusts and while watching her perfectly sculpted breasts bounce nearly free from her blue shirt, I felt the surge in my crotch and the pleasure permeate everywhere else.
“Ugh, cumming. I’m cumming,” I grunted.
Izabella lowered her hips and arched her back, ensuring every inch of me was inside her as my cock spasmed and my cum spurted inside her. Immediately, her eyes rolled backward, and the whites of her eyes twitched as her body spasmed.
“Oh my God, oh my God–yes! I–I feel it inside me!” she gasped, her palm rubbing over her belly and down her pelvis. Shock struck her face as she doubled over with a violent tremor. “I’m… I’m cumming!”
With her thighs clamped to my sides and her body pressing down, I was trapped. We stayed in this position for several minutes. My cock was still inside her and slowly softening. When she finally released me and stood, Izabella adjusted her clothing and gathered her bowls, herbs, and other items.
My head still spun from the excitement, but I had the wherewithal to ask before she left, “Um, Iz-Izabella, right?”
She paused, smiling down at me as if I were a pet, “Yes, this is my name.”
“Is there another set of clothes for me?” I asked, glancing at my torn pants.
“You will get clothes later. First, you must wash,” Izabella said as she left the keep with arms full of her supplies.
“Wash?” I repeated.
“I hear your name is Daniel,” an aggressively accented voice said. A figure stepped from the shadow of night outside and into the keep. Her golden hair matched the tethers of golden fabric that hung from her shoulders and was barely enough to hide the hard nipples on her massive, plump breasts. The areolas were pink to purple and obvious. While Izabella was skinny and about my age, this woman was easily twice my age, with more curves to her, but easily the most sexy woman I had spoken to.
“My name is Tanika,” she said. A mischievous smile grew on her lips as she looked me over. “It sounds like you are ready for your bath.”
