eXcessively pleasurable fiction
from the sweet to the forbidden
Length: Short Story
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Warnings: This title contains graphic language and sex.
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In this winter fairy tale of medieval European castles, Liesl, the beautiful daughter of a widowed local noblewoman, torn between the cruel lusts of her stepfather and her selection to be sent to the bed of the old emperor, finds her desire sparked by a young, handsome stranger she encounters in the village square marketplace. But something happens the night she is to be taken to the emperor’s mountain castle to have her virginity “tested”, as she rides a sleigh to her dubious fortune in a blinding snowstorm wearing only an ermine robe—something that may change the fate of the young woman and her village forever.
It took Liesl several moments—as the sleigh glided on through the night with only the sound of the scrapping of the runners sliding along the snowy roadbed—to realize that the furs were moving of their own volition. She was burrowing down into them, but they also were moving, rising around her, swallowing her. And her ermine robe was sliding up along her back. She was being lifted up, away from the soft fur of the robe, and something cool and hard was coming between her and the fur.
She screamed with the realization that she was feeling flesh, hard bulging flesh against her back and her buttocks and her thighs. But her screams were being carried away from the wind. She called to the driver and footman for help, for deliverance from this terrifying realization that she wasn’t alone in the sleigh. But the driver and footman didn’t flinch. If they heard her at all, they paid no heed to her cries. They leaned into the wind, pressing the Clydesdales on in an every quicker rhythm. The alps now clearly in sight. The Clydesdales sensing that they were homeward bound, and willingly increasing their pace.
Strong corded, naked arms encircled Liesl, and she was drawn into the chest and loins of a young, virile man, his desire and need and intent unmistakable even to the virginal Liesl, pressed into the small of her back. His face was buried into the hollow of her neck from behind, and while one arm held her to him, its hand encasing and squeezing one of her breasts, his other hand went to her secret crease. Long, slender, powerful fingers found her there and entered her, searching and finding a nub, sending streaks of sensation through her body that she had never felt before, setting her on fire. Fire and ice. He was kissing her neck and nipping at her there, as his hands worked in concert. Her breasts rose and fell to the rhythm of his touch, her nipples engorging and setting off fireworks at the slightest flick of his thumb. Below she was melting to his attentions. She was flowing, and moaning, and sighing, and groaning. She felt his need stabbing at her back, rubbing up and down.