The Black Rabbit
Copyright© 2017 by Robberhands
Chapter 71
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 71 - The story takes place in a fantasy world, roughly comparable to the time and area in Europe and the Mediterranean at the beginning of the first millennium AD. It's about the journey of a very unusual young man; as unusual in his world, as he would have been in ours. It's about the people he met and the things he learned from them; as well as it's about what he taught them in return. But mainly, it's about your enjoyment, so don't take anything too seriously.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Fa/Fa Magic NonConsensual High Fantasy Anal Sex First Slow Violence
A giant warrior charged toward her. Her falcata struck the man’s shoulder and severed his arm before the giant ax he held high above his head could come down on her. Chopped-off limbs continued to fly as many more warriors attacked. She stabbed and slashed, maimed and slaughtered. Tens, hundreds, thousands. She killed until she stood alone on the battlefield. Drenched in blood, she raised her head and screamed at the sky.
“More!”
The corpses vanished and the bloody battlefield turned into a sunny meadow. A black rabbit hopped across the field.
“I want more,” she said as the rabbit passed in front of her.
“I know,” he answered.
Of course, it wasn’t the rabbit who answered. She turned around. He was twenty yards behind her, crouching in the grass and picking flowers. Then he got up and walked towards her but paused two more times to pick a red poppy and two blue windflowers. Finally, he stood in front of her. No shoes on his feet, his shirt too baggy, his pants too short and a bunch of flowers in his hand.
“Hello, Eva,” he greeted. “You look lovely.”
“You look like a bum,” she returned his compliment, casting a wary glance at the flowers in his hand.
“They are for you,” he said, presenting the flowers.
“Flowers? For me? Seriously?” she asked, looking at her blood smeared hands, which still held her weapons,
“It’s a dream.”
“I know it’s a dream but it’s a stupid dream.”
“I like this dream very much.”
“I bet you do,” she said. “The fearsome warrioress dreams of getting flowers, proving that deep inside she’s still a girly girl.”
“Why do you think this is your dream? Maybe it’s mine.”
“If this were your dream, I’d have taken the flowers and would be in your arms by now, crying tears of joy.”
He smiled. “You’re not crying; it rains.”
“It rains?”
“Yes,” he said. “You’re in my arms and it rains. The rain washes the blood off your face and bloody tears run down your cheeks. They stain your clean, white linen dress while we kiss.”
She looked at the thin dress she wore, looked at the dark clouds gathering in the sky, and then she looked at him.
“I know what you’re doing,” she hissed. “But this is my dream!” she screamed and shoved him hard in the chest.
He fell.
Lying in the grass, he propped up on his elbows. “We don’t kiss in your dream?”
“Can I kill you in my dream?” she asked with blazing eyes and flaring nostrils
“You can do whatever you want,” he answered. “It’s your dream and no one but you will ever know what you did in this dream.”
“Not even you?”
“Not even me.”
She sat down, straddling his belly, grabbed the collar of his shirt and stared into his eyes. “You swear?”
He smiled. “I swear I never watch your dreams.”
She tore the shirt apart and kissed him.
Nahseyra rushed along the corridor and up the stairs, leaving wet footprints on the granite floor. At the end of the staircase, she stopped. She wrapped her arms around her shivering body before she slowly moved on. The last piece of the way, she slowed down even more. Taking one little step at the time, she finally reached the door. She tried to open the door quietly, but her stiff little fingers slipped off the handle. On her second try, the door opened but made a squeaking sound. She froze and listened but nothing happened. Carefully, she slipped into the room. It was dark but a fire was burning in the hearth. She quietly stepped through the room toward the door of her chamber. She reached it ... almost.
“Good evening, your Majesty,” the shadow, lurking by the window, greeted as she passed him.
“Eeek!” Nahseyra cried out and stumbled.
Agon caught her before she fell. “Being jumpy is bad when you try to sneak past your old poppa.”
“I didn’t try to sneak past you,” Nahseyra denied. “I was trying to be quiet so you and momma didn’t wake up.”
“That’s very considerate of you, especially at a time long past your curfew.”
“Ouh ... am I in trouble?”
“If we don’t get you out of your dripping-wet clothes and warm you up, you’ll catch a cold and we’ll both be in trouble,” Agon said as he carried her to the fireplace.
“Where is momma?” she asked as he set her down.
“She was waiting for you and fell asleep in your bed,” he answered, grabbing a wool blanket nearby.
“Oh no, I’m doomed,” Nahseyra whined as she stretched out her arms.
Chuckling, Agon pulled her soaked dress over her head. “You just returned from riding a dragon,” he said as he wrapped her up in the blanket, “and now you’re scared of your momma?”
“That was so much fun!” Nahseyra burst out. “Oh, and I saw Captain Shinta’s ship.”
Agon froze. “Are you sure it was Captain Shinta’s ship?”
Nahseyra nodded. “The ship looked tiny from so high above but I asked Nieferitie to fly down close to it. Among the huge waves, the ship still looked tiny but I saw Captain Shinta.”
“She sailed through this storm,” Agon croaked. “That’s insane.”
“I don’t think Captain Shinta was afraid of the storm,” Nahseyra said. “She was laughing as I waved at her when we flew by.” Then she frowned. “I also waved at Captain Kuwasi but he didn’t laugh. He looked a bit sick.”
“You waved at them?” Agon asked. “How could you even ride in this storm?”
“You can’t ride a dragon unless the dragon allows you to ride,” Nahseyra knowledgeably informed. “But if a dragon allows you to ride, you cannot fall off.”
“The entire world has become insane.” Agon shook his head. “Did you see Hammie, too?”
“No, I didn’t see him. I guess Hammie was below deck.”
“You’re not afraid at all, are you?”
Nahseyra looked down. “I’m afraid I am not a good queen.”
Agon smiled at his daughter. “You’re the best queen Ibanee has ever had.”
Nahseyra pouted. “I’m the only queen Ibanee has ever had.”
Agon’s smile didn’t waver. “Exactly, you’re the only queen of Ibanee.”
“But Uncle Hassunabi doesn’t want me to be the queen.”
“I know but what your uncle wants doesn’t matter anymore. You are the queen and he is just a usurper. Tomorrow we’ll talk about what we’ll do to rectify the situation.”
“What is a usurper?”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, my Queen,” Agon said and lifted her up in his arms. “But now I have to put my daughter to bed. She needs to sleep.”
“That’s silly,” she pointed out. “We’re one and the same.”
“That’s very wise of you, my Queen,” Agon said as he carried her to her chamber. “I hope my daughter will remember your wisdom when she gets grounded for overstepping her curfew.”
“Oh no, I’m doomed,” Nahseyra whined.
Evanis awoke blissfully relaxed, at peace with herself and the world in its entirety. A foreign feeling and it only lasted for a moment before the remains of the dream drifted off and her eyes flew open. Reality returned at full force. Her tunic no more than a belt around her waist, she lay stretched-out upon him - her hands on his shoulders, her face nestled into the hollow of his neck, her tits on his belly, legs entangled, and her squishy cunt tightly pressed against his thigh. She pulled herself up and looked at his face. His eyes were closed.
“Don’t pretend you’re sleeping.”
His gray eyes opened. “I don’t pretend I’m sleeping.”
“You tricked me.”
“I didn’t trick you; I warned you this might happen.”
“You swore to me that no one, not even you, will know what I dreamed.”
“I don’t know what you dreamed.”
“My weapon belt lies right next to the bed. Would you please hand me my dagger?”
“Never before have you used the word ‘please’ when you asked me for something,” he noted. “Are you only polite when you harbor evil intentions?”
“To the contrary, I intend to redeem the world from evil.”
“To redeem the world from evil is not your job. You’re my demoness.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes, I’m certain,” he answered. “I also know you aren’t angry. Your accusations and threats are just some friendly banter.”
“Oh really?”
“You’ve been awake for a while now but you’re still lying on me, purring like a satisfied cat, not hissing and scratching.”
“But maybe I’ll bite,” she said and nipped at his earlobe.
“Are you hungry, too?” He asked but then he whispered. “You have to be careful around here or they’ll call you the Devourer.”
The canvas entry was pulled aside and Zaya entered the tent. She was carrying a samovar and more than half a dozen women, loaded with platters of food, baskets, and bowls, followed her.
Zaya smiled and bowed. “Tevu Beheya, Urlan Jabbit, and to you, Bayani Evanis.”
Jabbit returned her smile. “A good morning to you as well, Zaya.”
Evanis sat up. “Bayani Evanis? What does it mean?”
Confronted with their bared bodily proximity, Zaya bashfully lowered her eyes. “Bayani is the respectful form of address for the First among the Baya – first of the concubines.”
Evanis’ eyes turned to slits. “I’m no one’s concubine.”
“See? Now, you’re hissing,” Jabbit remarked, then turned to Zaya. “Eva isn’t my concubine, she’s Ani’Mussai. That means ‘my Demoness’ in old Alorian. How would you say that in your language?”
Zaya bowed even deeper. “I apologize, Vahju Evanis.”
“Just Evanis ... please,” Evanis grumbled.
“Eva is in a very good mood this morning,” Jabbit noted with a grin. “Did you and these lovely women bring us breakfast? And what are you carrying?”
“Yes, my Lord, we brought you breakfast,” Zaya answered. “And I am carrying a samovar. It’s used to make tea.”
Evanis climbed off Jabbit and got up. “I want to wash first,” she said while she readjusted her tunic.
Zaya put down the samovar and beckoned at the group of women. Four young women with large bowls and amphorae stepped forward. One of them carried a basket with loofahs and soap.
“Please let us assist you,” Zaya said.
“You’re not only feeding us but you’ll also wash us?” Jabbit asked.
“Of course, my Lord,” Zaya replied.
“Wipe that grin off your face and behave,” Evanis warned. “My good mood is fading fast.”
A little later...
“I like these loofahs,” Evanis stated. “They are much better for bathing than the rags I’m used to. The soap is also nice, even the water smells good. Did you put something in it?”
“We put lavender blooms into the water and the soap contains lavender, too,” the women sponging Evanis’ back answered. “We also use other herbs and flowers if you like a different odor.”
“Eva always smells nice,” Jabbit voiced his opinion.
“You can quit kissing up to me,” Evanis replied. “You’re off the hook for now.”
“She smells good because she smells of you, my Lord,” Zaya whispered in his ear while she dried off his shoulders and neck, “and there is nothing in your water.”
The young women scrubbing Jabbit’s butt giggled.
“Let’s stop dawdling,” Evanis decided after a sideways glance at the women taking care of Jabbit. “I want to have breakfast and then meet with the Kadi.”
“The Kadi will not hold court before tonight,” the women rinsing Evanis’ legs responded. “The tribe is breaking camp as we speak. We will be traveling toward the Ewu all day and set up a new camp for the night.”
“That’s still no reason to dawdle,” Evanis growled. “He’s clean enough already.”
All the other women giggled.
Rhaseris sighed and languorously stretched her body. She slowly opened her eyes and smiled as she saw Isabetta, who stood by her bedside.
“You’re up already?”
“I heard you screaming,” Isabetta answered. “So I got up to check on you.”
“You heard me screaming through the wall between our chambers?”
“Well, maybe I was up already and heard you through the door,” Isabetta conceded.
Rhaseris raised an eyebrow.
“Well, maybe it was more a loud moan than a scream, but I was definitely worried.”
The Princess sat up. “I told you, you don’t need to worry about me,” she said and winked at her young priestess apprentice. “I sleep very well.”
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