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You're gonna die. Final.
I mean, who in their right mind would dare disobey the Destroyer of Nations? And right in front of her face?
You gulp as she bursts into the tent, an angry expression on her face while she steps in front of you, her eyes looking up and down on you as she takes three deep breaths. You think that’s unnatural for her, as she has the reputation of being one, if not the least patient person that has ever lived in the whole of Greece.
Obviously you do not voice any of this, you still want to try and get alive out of this tent.
“Now now… who do we have here?” your hands fidget as you stand there, eyes looking everywhere but at her. You open your mouth to reply but she glares at you. Of course, it was rhetorical.
“Do you know why I have so few servants around me? You can answer.” She takes her knife out of the sheath in her pants and throws it in the air, catching it perfectly with her index and middle fingers on the blade part.
You try to reply but your throat feels closed, so you just shake your head.
She uses the tip of her knife to tilt your chin up, making your gazes meet. You had never noticed how blue her eyes were, and even if right now you would want to do anything but look at her, you can’t help being mesmerised by them.
“I really hate when people don’t follow my orders… If I tell you to speak, you have to speak.” with her other hand she squishes your cheeks, hard, and you yelp in pain. “Come on, little lamb, open that pretty mouth of yours. Clearly you didn’t have any problem doing so ten minutes ago.”
“I do not know, my Lord.” You mumble, and she huffs, letting you go, retreating to one side of her tent, where a desk is situated.
“They know when to shut the fuck up.” She stabs the knife on it and turns, leaning over its edge, crossing her arms as she keeps scrutinising you.
You bow your head, favouring the sight of the rich persian carpets that she must have gotten when you had stopped in one of those eastern lands a few months ago. The intensity of their red colour you think suits her really much. Red like the copious amount of blood dripping from her hands every single day.
You obviously have never actually seen her in a fight, but you do have ears, and when dinner time comes and you have performed all your duties, you like to sit around the fire with other servants and soldiers and they all recall how ruthless and heartless the Commander was on the battlefield, and how many fell by her hand. Many of the soldiers’ words are filled with respect and fear for the Conqueror, but for you it was very different.
Somehow the image of the Lord Conqueror brandishing her sword and passing it through a man’s chest and pulling it out drenched in blood had you clenching your thighs together, and your mouth salivate. You liked to imagine what her body looked like under her robes, and at times you wished for Shireen to get hurt or be unavailable or even die so you could take her place in being the Conqueror’s personal servant, able to draw baths for her and help her undress.
“I’m afraid I might have to let you go.” Those words break you out of your inner thoughts, and you immediately look up at her, panic all over your face, “My Lord, I beg of you, don’t do this please.” You drop to your knees and bring your hands in prayer, “I can’t go back there to my village, they’d kill me!” You plead, but your whines go unheard to her, who just sits there and smirks in that evil way that unsurprisingly has you trembling with excitement.
You might have a problem.
“And you think I won’t?” she chuckles, and it reverberates through your body. You feel your cheeks heat up at her voice. “You think I won’t have you begging for me to take mercy upon you? I know how those soldiers talk about me. How they describe me as heartless and merciless.”
She stands upright and comes toward you, taking your chin by her thumb and pointer finger, her voice lowering as she whispers in your ear.
“And they’re right.”
She suddenly takes you by the throat, her slender fingers wrapping around your neck in a vice grip, and you think you're gonna die just like this, strangled by the great Xena the Conqueror.
You find yourself surprisingly moaning as she presses her thumb and middle finger on your windpipes, cutting off your air in a delicious way.
“What a pathetic little thing,” she snarls “Moaning as I choke her like her life isn't at stake.”
Your knees buckle as you try to stand and you feel like falling on the ground, but her arm wraps around your waist, fingers pulling you into her, right hand still holding you by your neck.
Your whimpers make her grin, her teeth showing as you struggle to keep yourself up.
“Please, my Lord.” She huffs and lets you go, your body colliding with the ground, a grunt of pain leaving your mouth. The fact that you’re also incredibly aroused doesn’t mean anything.
You hear her walking further into the tent, some clothes shifting? And the bed dipping under her weight, that’s when you dare look up, eyes finding hers already on your figure, pupils blown out. Her legs are spread open, and bare, but her crotch is still covered by her tunic and you feel like drooling.
“Come here, pet.” she gestures with her knife, and you crawl to her, sensing she’d want you to do that. You stop when your hands meet the base of the bed, and raise your head, meeting her gaze. “Good girl. See? It’s so easy when you follow the rules.”
“My Lord…?” you press your palms on her thighs, opening your mouth in awe as she contracts her muscles and the soft flesh under your hands hardens, a surprised gasp leaving you when she shifts closer to the edge of the bed and your fingers slide higher on her body.
She looks so strong under all those robes whenever she marches around the campsite, that you would’ve never imagined she could look this soft too, and it brings a smile to your face.
You start massaging her strong thighs, breathing a sigh of relief when she doesn’t bark at you, and just look at her pleadingly, tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip, wishing that she will understand what you want to say.
But of course, it won’t be this easy… this is the Xena we’re talking about.
She laughs at your desperation, and that has you feeling your underwear dampen even more than it already was.
“What do you want, my helpless lamb?” Her right hand lands on your head, and her fingers start caressing the back of it, a mewling sound leaving your lips “I already told you, you need to speak for yourself if you want to keep living.” She points her knife to your throat, the tip of it puncturing your skin, a trickle of blood running down your neck.
You gulp, and gather saliva in your mouth before speaking, a tremble in your voice “May I bring your pleasure? I could become your personal slave, my Lord, if you so wish for it. Please just, let me live.”
She chuckles, and suddenly she pulls your hair, and you whimper at the sting “My personal slave, you say?” she snorts and yanks harder, “More like personal whore, by the behaviour you’re showing. You’re so desperate to survive that you choose to crawl like a bitch in heat, pet. I don’t think you’d be able to handle all of this.”
She leans towards you, and you can see her face: her striking jaw, that cut over her left eyebrow, her long nose.
What strikes you is how the blue of her eyes now is quite non-existent, the black of her pupils having taken over, and if you weren’t half terrified, half the most turned on you have ever been, you’d internally smirk at this, pleased that she is as affected by this as much as you are.
“I will be good, I promise. Please, my Conqueror, let me serve you as you deserve to be.”
You’re crying at this point, trying to squirm away from her tight grip, but she holds you closer to her, making you arch your body and throw back your head, exposing your neck to her sight.
“You’re such a pretty crier, lamb.”
Out of the corner of your eye you see her bite her bottom lip before licking your tears away with a broad lap of her tongue, humming at the salty taste of them, and descending down, assaulting your throat, licking, biting and leaving red bruises all over it, and you feel her left hand grip your hip, the warmth of it enveloping you and spreading through your body, starting from your lower back and ending at the base of your feet.
She groans when she leans back, a smug smile as she admires all the marks she has left on your neck, and your chest heaves with the deep breaths you’re taking. You feel like your heart might explode right at this moment; that would surely make this all stop, and you don’t want that, not when the infamous Xena is practically undressing you with her eyes.
“Stand up, pet” she lifts you up by your hair, and she stands as well, your height difference not so accentuated now, but your gaze still falls to her chest, where you can see her turgid nipples under her tunic, and your mouth runs dry at the thought of placing your lips around them.
“On the bed, on your knees, face down on the mattress.” She practically shoves you down there, but you still scramble to position yourself, and you’d be embarrassed by the quickness with which you have obeyed her if it weren’t for the fact that your cunt is pulsing with arousal.
“My Lord-”
“Shut your pretty mouth up, lamb.” There goes your underclothing.
The bed dips behind you, and you hear the rustling of clothes, and out of the corner of your eye you see her throw her tunic in the corner of the tent. Her hands grip your waist, massaging your sides, before lifting your own up and exposing your ruined underwear to her.
You’re more than certain it’s see-through at this point by how wet you are.
“My my, you really are a pathetic little whore, getting turned on by the mean words of her Commander.” Her thumb presses against your slit, and you moan at the contact. She draws little circles around your opening, slightly entering your hole, immediately retracting it when you move yourself to take more inside of you.
“Ah ah ah… you poor slut, so eager to take your Conqueror’s fingers in her tight little pussy.”
Her hands push down your under clothing, leaving it at your knees, and she bursts out laughing, fingers gathering the wetness attached to the underwear, bringing them in front of your eyes “What a miserable and pathetic wench I’ve got here, getting her clothing wet and ruined and her cunt dripping like a common whore.” You whimper at seeing your arousal, cheeks blushing in shame for how ruined you are. A surprised moan leaves you as the Conqueror pushes her fingers in your mouth, “Suck, slut” and you accomplish, tongue thoroughly cleaning her digits, while she just pushes them further back in your mouth, making you gag on them.
She retracts them with a popping sound, a sling of saliva connecting her to you, before she pushes two fingers inside your heat without any anticipation, a whine escaping you at the sudden penetration, that easily turns to a moan as she scissors her digits inside you, retracting them and pushing them back in, setting a slow pace.
You feel your walls clamping down on her fingers, and can tell your first orgasm is approaching fast. You try to push back on the Conqueror’s fingers, and you’re so close for the coil in your stomach to snap, but just before you can fall off the precipice your Lord hastily pulls her hand away, a cruel laugh on her lips as you groan, orgasm ruined.
“You really thought it was gonna be that easy, slut?” she spreads her hand coated in your juices over your arched back, the cool air meeting the warmth of your arousal makes you shiver, goosebumps appearing all over your arms and thighs.
Her hands then spread your ass cheeks apart, your gushing hole tightening around nothing, your clit is so swollen, and if only she could touch you right there. “Oh you poor baby, a slave like you doesn’t deserve to cum, for your orgasms are mine, and it’s me that decides when you can come.”
She gathers saliva in her mouth, before spitting onto her hand, a wanton moan leaving your lips as she uses it to spread her spit over your slit, her movement broad and slow. You tremble at the friction, though you feel incomplete, as she deliberately keeps ignoring your puffy clit.
“Please my Lord,” she hisses at you “Begging already? You’re so weak, I should just-” her knife comes again terrifyingly close to your neck, the tip tracing the small wound she had already left on you. “No please! I can take it, I promise my Lord!” your words are muffled by the mattress underneath you, “I’ll do whatever you say!” Your hands grip the sheets, and you arch your back even further, raising your ass as high as possible, a clear invite for her to grab it and squeeze it.
She smirks behind you, and if you weren’t terrified for your life and so fucking turned on, you would be a little concerned at the knowing look on her face, almost as if she knew she had you wrapped around her.
It wasn’t untrue, but also, you couldn’t really tell her you were hers since the first moment she had chosen you as a servant, unknowingly saving you from a cruel fate that awaited you in your village.
“Whatever I say? Uhm…” she grabs your neck and lifts you back up, your glistening folds brushing against the mattress, the pressure so exquisite you start grinding against it, but the sting of her sharp nails stops you in your tracks. You hope she left marks.
She roughly grabs your arms and flips you over, pressing your back against the firm mattress, and your legs spread on their own accord, you lazily smirk when her eyes widens in lust as she regards your figure, the cut and marks on your throat, a sheen of sweat on your stomach, your heaving chest, the patch of hair on your mound. Her hand discards the knife, and she uses both of them to open you up even further, your hips almost aching by the effort to keep your position but you don’t show it on your face; you think that, if you put on a brave facade, she won’t stop touching you. And you want to be so good for her.
“Too bad I want to hear everything you’ve got to say.” her right hand nears your aching core, hovering just above your clit. “I bet you’d let me edge you for hours.” she huffs, smirking as she finally presses her thumb on your nub, pleasure exploding inside you as you start humping against her finger in a frenzy, eager to reach your orgasm before she could actually stop you from relieving yourself.
Your Lord lets you do your thing, and you quicken your movement, feeling the tell tale sensation of an impending climax. Your moans start getting louder as you, almost embarrassingly, find yourself right at your climax after a few humps against her thumb, and your muscles contract, eyes squeezing shut as you’re ready to feel that tension wash over you.
It doesn’t.
There’s no more pressure on your clit.
“Please, my Lord, I beg of you, let me come please.” Tears slide on the mattress where you lay, and your clit is pulsing like crazy, you’re sure if she tried to touch it now, you would actually pass out.
“You’re so cute when you cry, pet, makes me wanna have you begging for me to let you cum all night.” Her thumb penetrates you for the briefest moment, gathering your juices and bringing them to your lips, “Lick, pet.” you do as she says, moaning around her digit.
“Do you wanna know what you taste like?” you shake your head, as your tongue perfectly cleans her finger.
“Desperation.”
You squeeze your eyes and whine, thighs no longer trembling as your orgasm gets ruined for the umpteenth time.
“Don’t worry, pet” she pushes her index and middle fingers further into your mouth, your throat spasming as you gag on them. “You’ll get to come,” saliva coats her fingers as she takes them out, messily wiping them all over your chin, before she tilts her head to the side “eventually.”
You Lord leans back on her heels and you finally take a look at her naked form, and if you weren’t already throbbing and leaking with need, this sight alone would’ve had you slipping your hand between your legs and found yourself absolutely drenched.
Your fantasies weren’t that far from the truth: she’s lean, muscular, with a soft edge in the area around her stomach; the scars of what you imagine are pregnancy marks create a beautiful pattern that starts at her hips and ends right where a dark bush appears.
What catches your eyes though, is a strange harness attached to her hips, and you blush as the tip of a phallic shaped contraption points right at you.
You gulp at the sight of it, and even more when your Lord turns to the side and you realise the length and girth of it. Your eyes widen and dread wraps around you as one singular thought dances in your mind.
Is she going to put that inside of you?
You’re both intrigued and scared shitless at the prospect. You have never had any penetrative sex with anything other than the fingers of those few village girls that had you sprawled on the grass near the rivers in the countryside, far away from your house, to make sure no one could discover you nor hear your cries of pleasure.
She’s aware of your half-desperate-half-intrigued look on your face and grins, grabbing it and stroking her right hand all over it, her skin brushing the leather and making a rough but smooth sound, you take a deep breath.
“Now this is what we’re gonna do.” She approaches you, left hand gripping your thigh and keeping it open as she kneels in between your open legs, never ceasing her stroking movement on the toy. “You’re gonna lay back on that mattress, - she spits on the shaft, hand spreading her saliva on it - and take my cock like a good girl, or I’ll have to spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit for the better half of a moon cycle.”
The prospect of getting a mark shaped like her hand on your skin makes your insides flutter, and you unconsciously lean toward the toy, eager to take it inside of you. “Please, my Lord, I’ll-” your voice cracks as the tip slowly enters you, “I’ll be good, I promise.”
She chuckles, almost as if she doesn’t believe you, but continues to push into you till she’s fully sheathed inside you, hips pressed to yours. It’s big, you already knew that, but it’s not an unwelcome feeling, quite the contrary: you’ve never felt so full in your life. Your head drops on the mattress, and her nipples brush yours as she follows you.
The Conqueror moans against your ear, fingers gripping you tightly “Oh pet, if only I could feel you clenching on this cock.” She leans back and puts your legs over her shoulders, grabbing your hips and setting a fast and hard pace.
Your thighs tremble as the toy fills you completely and rubs in all the right places. You wish your Lord could be pressed against you, covering your figure and the base of the toy hitting your clit, but she stays above you, dragging her cock in and out, obscene sounds echoing in the room.
“You are so soaked I can fill you so easily. It’s kind of pathetic, don’t you think?” Her left hand squeezes your breast, fingers pinching your nipple, grinning as you flinch a little, “Being so scared for your life that you beg your Conqueror to fuck you.”
You can feel yourself clenching around her, a groan of pleasure leaving you; she grins “Not only you beg,” she leans back, your juices coating her and dripping on the mattress, “you even squeeze my cock so tightly it wouldn’t budge an inch if you weren’t so outrageously wet”.
You know your Lord is doing all of this as a personal enjoyment, to show you how much more powerful than you she is, so you are well aware that getting some friction on your clit is a definite no… But gods, in this moment, you could come from the sheer smoothness and sensuality of her voice alone as she degrades you and you wouldn’t care.
Your fingers hurt from how tightly they’re gripping the sheet as you try not to touch yourself, she notices it, obviously, and a flicker of something passes behind her eyes. As soon as you’ve seen it, it’s gone but you don’t have the time to think about that because a thumb is pressed on your clit and it’s doing that perfect movement that always gets you off.
It slowly starts building from your lower belly, warm and constant and then it’s just hot as your Conqueror’s hips keep pistoling into you and her thumb rubs your clit less hurriedly, almost gently, which would throw you off if you weren’t on the verge of a cliff, ready to fall off of it and explode from pleasure.
“My Lord, I’m so clos-”
“I know, pet. You’ve been so good for me.”
Her right hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing your lips and chin, inviting you to open your mouth and you comply, staring into her eyes as she closes hers for a brief second before spitting soundly in your mouth, hand holding your throat as you swallow, moaning when a couple of deep thrusts send you straight to the Elysian fields.
Your head leans back as fireworks explode behind your closed eyelids, whining as the hand around your throat squeezes, your Lord’s voice growling above you “Did I say you could close your eyes?” You open them immediately, albeit with a little difficulty as she keeps thrusting and choking you.
She looks beautiful. Her mouth opens and she starts talking, but the only thing you’re focusing on are her eyes, usually clear blue but now almost black, the lust evident in her gaze “I praise you and you immediately forget your place?” Her hand leaves its place around your neck and grabs your hip, “That won’t do…”
She leans back, trying to slip out of you, but the feeling of loss has you close your legs around your Lord’s back, silently begging her to not part from you.
You look up at her and stick your tongue out: a provocation? A free pass for her to do that whenever she pleases? Whatever thought bounced in your mind, it quickly vanishes as she breaks out in a wolfish grin, a charged heat in her eyes that only gets more irresistible as the moment passes.
This time, you see her gather some saliva in her mouth, before letting a string fall on your tongue, slow, precise, like she’s aiming at an enemy with her bow, ready to shoot the arrow and perfectly strike. She manages to slip out of your core as she does this, and your legs drop on the bed, blood rushing to your clit, making it stand for attention even though you’ve just had one of your best orgasms. You tentatively slide your hand toward it, fingers grazing the swollen nub, and your hips immediately buckle against them, arousal already leaking out of you and on the bed.
Shame and thirst wash over you as you lift your eyes and find your Lord looking at your mound, her fingers itching to lean over and touch you. She lifts her gaze and when it meets yours, she takes a deep breath through her nose, tongue slipping out to wet her lips as she exhales..
She smirks at you, and you gulp as the sensation that she’s not done with you yet takes hold of you. It (not so) strangely turns you on even more.
Your legs burn as you bounce on the Conqueror’s toy, her cock, as she’s told you how to refer to it, and, to be honest, you definitely love that term more. It’s been at least ten minutes since she’s all but dragged you on her lap after your first orgasm and slid into you in one swift move, careless of your initial discomfort at the new depth that this position brought.
Not giving you enough time to fully adjust to the girth of it, and how it rubbed just in the right way against your walls, she starts thrusting up into you, her pelvis bumping with your clit in a delicious way every time you feel her cock fill you up completely. Her hands gripping your waist as they hold you firm against her, hips stuttering as she basically ruts against you, a feral grin on her face as she fucks you brainless.
After a couple of deep and swift thrusts, she leans back on the cushions behind her and retracts her hands from your body, while you unconsciously try to follow her movements, stopped by her hand at your throat, as the other cups the back of your head, fingers carding through your hair, tugging at them and drawing out a luscious moan from your lips.
“Now now… I can’t do all the work now, can I?” you gulp as you look down at her, noticing her swollen lips, though you hadn’t even kissed, and you smile at the realisation that she must have bit her own lips. You huff at that. It should be your teeth biting her lips.
You moan and drool, your tongue out as you pant and groan in pleasure, hips raising and dropping back on her cock. You’re still a little sensitive from your orgasm but the view from up here is almost ethereal that you cannot but put on a little show for her: you slide your right hand down your neck and between the valley of your breasts, your chest heaving as your Lord slightly thrusts into you and your left hand pinches your nipples, strings of saliva dripping down your stomach and falling right above your clit, which still begs for attention.
Your Conqueror places a hand on your lower belly, right above your mound, pressing into you and moaning out loud, eyes rolling behind her head “I am so deep inside of you, my sweet lamb, I can see myself filling you up so perfectly.”
Her hand smears your saliva all over your folds, before she starts rubbing your clit, the other hand wrapping around your waist and thrusting up into you, accelerating her pace and bringing you faster toward your release.
You wish you could say that it’s become a battle of wills and who prevails over the other, but the truth is that you’re so submitted to your Conqueror, you’d really do anything for her.
Your orgasm arrives all of a sudden, after a quick swipe of thumb against your clit, and your vision whitens as pleasure envelopes you, and you clench your legs around your Lord’s waist, mouth opening before your mind could comprehend what you’re saying.
“Fuck, Xena!”
Time stops.
The body under you freezes, and you’re damn sure that this one is the moment you’re absolutely going to die.
You wait for the contact to disappear, for the slap to arrive and for your air to be blocked as a hand squeezes your throat.
None happens.
Your Lord is still wrapped around you, hand splayed on your back, warm against your skin.
You inhale, “I’m sor-”
“Say it again.”
You widen your eyes, heart hammering in your chest. You wonder if she can hear it.
Her arm tightens its grip, silently inviting you to speak.
“Xena…” you sigh as her left hand draws little circles on your hip, her forehead pressed against your neck. “I like it.” She doesn’t need to see your confused expression, as she continues “How my name sounds from your lips.”
She brings you both down on the bed, unwrapping herself from your figure and getting up just to take the harness off and kneeling between your legs, palms grabbing your legs and widening them.
You don’t think you could come again, but her hungry look has you pushing yourself on your elbows, nodding and observing as she dives and broadly licks from your slit to your clit, tongue flat as she laps at you, lips closing around your nub and sucking it.
This time your climax is softer, washes over you in gentle waves as she pushes two fingers inside you and curls them, immediately hitting the perfect spot.
Tiredness gets you and you lay on her bed, arm thrown over your eyes, spent, chest heaving with deep breaths as you try to slow your quickened pulse. The bed dips and you faintly hear some movements, you would look over but sleep overtakes you.
When you wake up, you immediately notice the candle on the small cabinet near the bed, the only source of light in the tent. Apparently you’ve slept for a grand part of the evening.
Your Lord has definitely worn you out, and you can still feel your cunt on fire and pulsing, clit swollen as if it hadn’t been licked and flicked and sucked enough. A blissful smile appears on your lips as the memories come back, ignoring how you’d almost signed your own death sentence.
You look to the side, heart palpitating at the wishful thought she stayed besides you.
It’s obvious that she couldn’t stay, she’s the fucking Conqueror, definitely not one to cuddle one of the servants she just fucked.
You begin to mentally gather your thoughts, and you’re stopped when the flaps of the tent are opened and in your own Lord enters, carrying a bowl and a cup.
She approaches you and sits on the bed, leaving the objects on the cabinet near the candle.
“You can stay. You’re not in trouble anymore.” she gets up and starts to leave, but you quickly take a hold of her wrist, surprising even yourself at your boldness. You look up at her, a question you don’t want to voice out loud. She meets your eyes and shakes her head, taking your hand in hers and grazing your knuckles, a ghost of a kiss.
She’s out of the tent before you can realise what has happened.