Book 1, Excerpt 2
[adult novel, work in progress]

[more previously]

        He rolled over, holding Dara, His Princess, to him. The ground supported his back, the sky above reached on ... forever ... and yet it was still cold and limited constriction within anahk Tor, where the core of him was as frigid and unbreakable, as the soul of a hideously flawed diamond. He stroked her soft, firm backside, the physical and emotional desire already rising within him for her again, despite the silent, screaming murmurs: The Mare ... The Choosing .... Prince and Heir Apparent Rüsjmahadan. Dara pregnant ... with Tor's baby ... sired ... by him ... perhaps--that is what she said and what he had before overheard from others--"overheard" because she had asked Her People, who knew or suspected her condition to hold their tongues. All of this stalked through his mind, while she whispered tender, soothing affections in his ear, that penetrated straight into his hard, shielded, confined mind.

        Tor closed his eyes, tightly, in confusion and ... against her.

        Dara—her body and herself—was all he wanted ... and ... he very much wanted to believe her; but, what she said mattered not, how she said what she said mattered not, as he heard her and more clearly heard and felt the fiend's murmurings, which had guided him through many threatening times for so very long. And despite the warmth and clear brightness of her, he believed ... he knew she was lying to him, to control him more than she already controlled him and exploit him for her own purposes. Her action piercingly disappointed him.

        But, he accepted her action because she was a Woman, a Royal, and His Lover, all reasons for her lying to him to exert her remarkably alluring and considerable Will over him; as many a Royal Lover had tried before. For that was his explicitly painful experience, so the cold beast deep within him licked its paw and nestled cozily inside him; and, it would not leave him be.


        Tor was openly observing her, in the intimate confines of their suite in the royal family's private, elevated compound. He could hear their horses in the ground level enclosure beneath them and liked this suite of theirs exceedingly, here they were nearly always undistracted by anyone or anything else, as on this quiet night. She moved about doing the things she was doing and his eyes never left her.

        Dara smiled thinking how Sera had asked her, more than once, how she could tolerate his constant viewing of her, as if she were "quarry"; "something hunted", "to be captured and bound", "something to be devoured". Dara rather liked her sister's chiding description, for it completely suited Tor's dark manner, and all of him, even that part of him so hidden to her, suited her. Besides, all of The Children were taught from birth that the bounty of the land, as given from plant or animal, was a mighty gift and an honor. Each plant or animal attracted to itself and gave of itself, its force ... its life, to the one individual it chose as most admirable to acquire and properly utilize its essence. It was a great honor, even by one so honored as Dara, the Heir Royal and Shaman Prime, to be "hunted", "captured", and "devoured" by this particular man.

        "Come to bed, anahk Tor, I would have you deep inside me."

        Eventually, slowly, he moved to her, unusually delayed by the hidden burden he had yet to unwrap and show her, as he took her in his arms. His mouth was warm and hungry for her; but, he pulled from her in short order, as if he were afraid his desire for her, as was usual between them would become enraged and overcome them both.


        He was moving closer to her, as if to ensure that only she heard him or as if he were afraid his words would harm her, if spoken too loudly.

        "I am not like you, Dara, I do not just 'know' things of others, nor am I always as certain of.... I ... I am not always so certain, as you are, My Princess, of what exactly is mine."

        "I am yours, Tor."

        She shrugged because she felt it was plainly obvious to herself and to everyone. But, it was not to a part, an important, and lethal part of General anahk Tor of the Csokas.

        "I know you are. I know it, in the sense that I know when I command my people that I know it will be done. Yet, there are things, intimate things ... I need to feel ... tangibly. I ... I and Krel have.... I need very little in this life, at least that was always so, until I came to your side. You.... A long time all I really had was Krel and he was all I truly cared for, not even myself, just him; protecting his life, ensuring him some happiness ... or sometimes just an existence, after our parents were.... I did ... much for him and regret none of it. All life is war; but, all of it, the dying, the killing, the ... confusions, is worth it ... if you, Dara, are on the other side."

        She reached for him but he moved away and off the bed, not yet ready to come to her, so she stretched out on her stomach and listened and closely observed him as he slid aside the woven window shutter to look outside. Dara knew it was because he could not meet her eye at this moment.

        "I have been called a 'horrid, evil beast' for it, and they were ... are probably right. I have been that ... and other things, for I have taken a great many lands, property, and people for My King, for his rule, for his ... amusement."

        She noticed that his voice was softly, deeply bitter and quietly resigned, it was an odd trait she had noticed among others in his army, especially with those who served longest and or closest to Celaden. Tor slid the shutter back in place, ensuring their privacy, as his eyes pierced her.

        "Intelligence and stalk. Surround and overwhelm. Penetrate and win. I have a 'natural inclination and high skill' for it, I am told. Penetrate and win. That is what I did to them, as I was so well taught; the same as had been done to.... I overran them then gave them to Celaden, who gave me whatever gift he felt was his right and pleasure to give me. I asked one thing of him long ago and it was given to me; I have asked for little to nothing else since. I give everything and everyone to him because I conquer them for him, as he wishes, and ... because they are never mine.

        "Of course, a part of me knows that is not entirely true, as the warmaster of my ... his army; but, I never wanted those people or lands of my own accord, anyway. I have no ambitions there ... great skill, but no ambition to have what or who does not want me."

        He glanced away a moment before moving towards her.

        "When I say what I will, and if it ... displeases you greatly or dishonors you, please do not send me away from your side. Instead, say you will not hear it, that you will not have it spoken of, and it will be forgotten, and it will be, as if I never—."

        He stopped when she sat up on her knees, a position that the silk gown she now wore, or any gown for that matter, always set her off substantially to his satisfied eye. However, he wasn't certain if he had already displeased her, for she, more than any other, except Krel and perhaps His King, knew him so well.

        "Never fear to say what you need of me, to me. Never. Say what you must say. Ask it." He knelt beneath her on the floor before her, a supplicant.

        "I do not mean this as if I had conquered … no one conquers you, Dara, but I know I can take any land I wish to take." She did note, but he did not, that he had said "any land". He had not taken her land … not yet; but, she put the thought from her.


        "You have given all of you to me, Dara; your profound and immeasurable heart, your thoughts and affections ... your good graces ... your subtle and gentle hands, your incredible mouth, your most pleasurable and sacred body. All of you, you have given freely to me, but in my greed for you I would have more. More proof that you are mine, in a manner that might underscore it."

        Her brow furrowed in not knowing what he could mean as he slipped an arm around her waist to hold her to him. And, she straddled him as he kissed her deeply. His other hand slipped done her back and between her legs, pushing the silk before it where it wet the fabric at his fingers in the salty and fragrant dew of her lust for him, as her soft sighing moan filled his ear.

        "I know you are The Little Mare but I would have you welcome me inside you, through this final entrance, as well."

        Tor slid his fingers back and rested them on her anus, until the silk and a single wet finger slid inside her tight, resistant portal. She was silent in his arms a long while, until realizing he was waiting, patiently, but waiting and that the question, which had weighed heavily on him, was now leaning full on her. This curious thing was important to him and she chose her words carefully, as she always did when his deepest emotions ... and fears were naked and in plain view, as she gently removed his digit from her body.


        "Dara, what I ... it is not something I have asked for, very often. I have personally only asked it of two ... three other women; the first ... was a complete mistake. I ... we both were still nearly children then, forced too early into.... I know it will be uncomfortable. Some find it ... demeaning. Some feel it is something to be tolerated for a loved one. While, some ... find it quite pleasant. If you wish to refuse, Princess, I will understand."

        "All that is mine ... that is me, I always give to you, all I cannot give is whatever The Mare will not allow." She sighed, deeply. "And ... if I say no, it will displease you."

        "I will not force you."

        "But, you will not forgive me, either."

        He stared at her a long moment, another part of him caught in the web of her knowing him so well, in things no one knew. Or at least knew the full of extent of. No one. Except Krel. He held his head temple to temple with hers, half holding her with both hands in her thick, dark hair, comforting her, himself.

        "Dara, I adore you. I welcome the love you give me, the tolerance you have of my shortcomings, of my ... intensities." His eyes bore into hers. "Your Mare holds back a part of you so strictly from me. I know it is necessary to your sacred duties. I also understand I would not comprehend it, even if I did have that part of you. I know I will never have that part of you, and I accept that. But, your body is mine and I would have all of it, if for only one time.

        "I have penetrated many foreign lands and taken them. You have opened your mouth and given your very breath to me. You have allowed me to penetrate The Most Holy and Sacred part of you. And, so, I would have its opposite. It is not correct to say so; but, I would possess you in this manner, if one or any man can truly say he possesses the house or nation that he dwells within and which is stronger than he will ever be. Let me have you this once, and I will be done with it."

        He let her go, moving a bit back from her, to not overly pressure her. Dara's dark eyes gleamed, as they cast over him in that way she did when she was inwardly analyzing one of Her People or animals to see what cannot be seen, to conceive of what she could do to make them better. She saw glimpses within Tor; faint shades of Rüsj; of strange, foreign women she did not know; and densely vaporous, noxious, hotly negative flashes of shadows ... of Celaden and the unsettling Buraida, but nothing was substantial enough for her to fully grasp and understand, except-.

        "You will never be 'done with it', Tor, you will want me ... how you will want me, while you and The Mare blind me and will not allow me to see ... what you fear most to say or admit. It seems nothing else will fill this one need in you but this one thing from me, and this need will come again, especially because it is me, because your desire for me is very great ... as mine for you. I trust your army in the midst of My People because it is you, I trust your love for me that this desire is because you love me, not because you lie to us both and must merely possess me. Teach me what you want me to do for you and I will do my best to serve you, for that is my desire, and if The Mare wishes it, I will find what joy you find in it."

        He was disturbed by her thoughtful statement, without actually knowing why because the fearsome anahk Tor was lying to himself about not holding anything back from her. It was unintentional but technically a lie just the same, because it concerned matters he did not want to view and consider in the open air to himself, let alone before her. It was not exactly that he was ashamed but more that he did not want her ... or himself, for that matter, to believe any other person had a prior, perhaps even rightful, personal claim on him. And, he wanted even less to believe he might want that claim.

        He wanted only to believe he was truly free to do with his body and his heart whatever he wished and he wished them to be hers; but, this old ... way, Celaden's way, pulling and reining hard against his most personal will, was still very, very strong in its corruption of him. Things learned in the most critical times at the knee of the most powerful were hard to discard or be rid of, even with a will as formidable and decisive as General anahk Tor's, as he cast thoughts of both His King and beautiful Burai far from him.

        Yes, Dara was right he did love her greatly; but, she was wrong or at least optimistically in error to believe Tor did not want to merely possess her, for he truly misreasoned, that his loving her meant possessing her physically. Even when he knew she could not be held and controlled in that manner. It was something wrong in him, something not of his parents or himself, and it was branded deep and painfully in him, and it was wrong, because he did not feel it as joy, only as a hurtful yearning, a never satisfiable, insatiable ache.

        Also, he did not comprehend how deeply open Dara could be with those she liked and cared for, let alone those she truly loved, like himself. Her openness could become acute when that loved one was in deep pain, grief, or other troubling state. She ofttimes felt what they felt, sometimes even felt what emotions and thoughts they refused to acknowledge to themselves. She felt their joy and their illness; their love, their fever; their exaltation, their nausea ... she felt too much and could not always hold it back from herself or let it pass her by, but, instead, took it in ... to her detriment.

        Her own mother had repeatedly considered her hypersensitivity a weakness for someone of her ilk; but, it was Dara's glory now in understanding one as emotionally erratic and defensively impervious as Tor.

        And, for his part, if he had not been completely out of his element in the matters of The Great Mare, and entirely unable to realize just how dangerously vulnerable Dara was ... the more she loved, Tor would have taken Belloche and Krel and abandoned everything: His King, his soldiers ... her. He would have forsaken them all to protect her, to forestall hurting her worse than leaving her ever would or, if when he had found that he could not leave her side, which he could not, he would have attempted willfully taking leave of her by his own sword's blade. But, in Tor's dense blindness, in his burning great desire for her, he did not realize any of that ... and some things are inevitable destiny.

                * * * *

        He made love with her in the usual, inventive, thorough fashion, while he took care to gently ease open her body to suit his needs. He slowly, methodically entered her with tongue and finger, where no one had ever entered and penetrated The Sacred Little Mare. He pulled out of her hot, sucking cunt knowing she wanted more of him, and all of him spoke that she would receive what she desired, if not somewhat differently this evening. He slathered onto his manhood a fragrant, thickly editable oil, "suitable for the task", as Xantippe and others had attested to Dara, as he also massaged the oil into her forgiving tight hole with one, two, then three of his probing fingers, before spooning her against him.

        He edged into her, slipping his hardness past the taut, outer bond of her body's resistance, as it gave before him, letting him slip a little in, a little out, giving him full access, as he entered into the open and unguarded, tender interior of her, which pleased him more than he could articulate. He was also pleased with himself that he did not unduly pain her and that his careful usage of her was such that he gratifyingly heard her breathing's rhythm change in his favour, as she became accustomed to the new and not wholly unpleasant sensations he generated within her.

        She looked around at him, after his umpteenth compassionate query about her emotional and bodily status, as his fingers teased her clit and fucked her cunt. She was open to him, physically and emotionally, trusting in his guiding her, protecting her, loving her, as he maintained and built on her arousal, sucking on her tongue and neck, burying his face in her hair, as he made her sore in the pleasing of himself, of them both. It was always a pleasure to have him inside her but to have him double penetrating her, with cock and fingers, made her consider that her hyper-intense feelings might be a betrayal to her prime function to Her Goddess-.

        Dara came, which pushed all things from her mind except Tor and her own pleasure.

        He pumped harder at her in his own earnestness, which hurt her but he soon came, hot and erupting, branding his mark inside her, into this virgin flesh of her. It felt pleasantly strange and raw ... and a bit sacrilegious to her; but, it delighted him, which was truly the greater of all that mattered to her at the moment.

        He held her tightly to him and his cock was still bored deep to the hilt within her. He held her tightly because she did so greatly please him. Or more precisely, her giving in to him pleased a part of a deep-lying coldness, a certain type of contracted, viral apathy within him to anyone else's concerns before his own. The feeling was not natural to him but was learned, as taught by example and survival long ago, as if it had been an icy embryo placed deep within him, a slow-growing, poisonous infection, nurtured by his too personal discontent and mistrust of Royals ... and misuse by them.

        The Princess Dara, in seeking to please him, took more genuine pleasure from their combined love task than Tor, who in his attempt to hide the coldness of his deepest intent from her and himself, hid his head behind hers and waited until he naturally softened, then slithered from her.

        Tor did experience a kind of relief in having Dara this way; but, though he had cum in her, it did not truly satisfy the hunger, the discontent in him that had spawned it. In previous times, he had disconcertedly found gratification this way, perversely so sometimes, but not now. He continued to hold her and realized he did cherish being welcomed into her this way and told her so; but, he did not also say that it felt ... off to him. It felt ... like something he did not wish to feel, yet could not resist and could not articulate. Something too familiar, most determinedly half forgotten and uncomfortably unpleasant.

        He knew what it was but he would not let it fully surface so that he could view it and analyze it in the light of his intellect and the more brilliant light of his love for her. Or hers for him.

        He mistakenly did not place it before her and view it through Her Eyes, whose insight was beyond walls and distance and the fluctuating veil of time itself. Instead, he continued to sequester it in the darkness and the cold from which it had come.


        His axe splintered in two from his hand on the first lightning fast assault. He was struck just above the navel by the second, by a blow so powerful, that he flew back several yards before tumbling over then landing with a great, searing pain, that bruised his skin and doubled him over. He could not stand. He could barely breathe with the piercing red pain coursing through him, radiating from his wound throughout his body to the top of his skull and the tips of his hair, to the soles of his feet. He saw Krel unable to come to his aid, as Belloche reared and kicked, keeping the brothers separated.

        Tor finally saw what ... who had attacked him and struck him with such deadly force--Dara. He thought, even in his fantastic pain, that she was no longer naked and fucking that boy, before realizing, more precisely, that this was Dara's Double. Her hair was in its elaborate horse's mane and she wore the full ceremonial dress. This was the one, who had come to him in her softness, in his dream ... dreamvision so long ago and so far away.

        She had had eyes that were brightly warm as His Dara's are; but, now, in full daylight, in anger, its ... her ... its eyes were dark, coldly flashing, and ... reflective. The pain she had given him was not abating and felt as if it went to ... or perhaps came from his very soul, and Krel still could not come to him. Not that it would matter. General Prince Tor had no protection from the full rage and power of his own wife ... His Bänd, the Shaman Prime and Little Mare of The Children of The Great Mare.

        The great magic he had forgotten seeing as a child raised in the Temple School in Darkland of Egypt was a long, long time past. In his growing to manhood, in living the life he had had to live ... he had never had ... no, he more precisely no longer, personally, believed in magic; except sexual magic, which was not the same thing to him. So, until this very moment, he truly had not understood how powerful she was, that Her Sex and Her Magic and Her Power were all one in the same—inescapable and, perhaps, unstoppable. His men feared her, and though she ofttimes unnerved him, he had never feared for himself on a personal or physical level before.

        He did now.

[End of Excerpt]

Watchtower, Book 1, Excerpt 1

Watchtower, Book 1, Excerpt 2

Watchtower, Book 2, Excerpt 1

Watchtower, Book 2, Excerpt 2

short story from Book One of the novel series

        A war camp, especially one with women and children, is a noisy place, yet an abrupt silence was falling in the direction of this part of his camp, and looking up he understood why.

        Princess Dara was riding in his general direction....

        She undid the shoulder lacings of her loose, sideslit, leather dress, which fell and left her naked except for the riding leggings harnessed on her.

        The leg coverings also were loose, without a seat or crotch, strapped together around her hips so they would not fall.

[ -- doggy-style fucking, romantic sex]

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STEVE is a horrid bad boy, envious of friend ALEX's turn-around attitude with his soon-to-be new love, KARA, but grandma's monkey's paw, gives Steve complete control over anyone he wants; even Alex's sweet new lady, a virgin; against her will ... sort of.

But, "complete control over a strong-minded" woman isn't absolute and may get him DAMAGED, permanently.

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