Marion & the Bandit King by S.R. Allsop
If you’re a 21-year-old woman in medieval England, and the Lord of the Manor steals your oxen on the day you bury your father, what can you do? Well Marion fought back with the only weapon available to her, sex.
Marion will do whatever it takes to protect herself and her younger brothers. Following the guidance of her dead mother (via a witches’-brew-induced trip), she learns that she can bend men and women to her will, and her pleasure. She also discovers that when the good and the lawful fail you, there’s no one to turn to but the lawless and the bad.
Released from her dead father’s oppression, the strong, resourceful and red-blooded Marion refuses to accept her fate, embracing her new sexual freedom at the same time. Her fight for justice becomes a struggle for survival, taking her from Erdington, the tiny village of her birth, to the medieval market town of Birmingham.
Marion’s search for allies and indulgence leads her to encounters with the humble and the noble, law enforcers and law breakers. It might be her childhood playmate the strong, submissive Daniel, the toned, handsome actor Piebald, or even the lissom Bailiff’s wife Dionisia de Beresford.
In her most desperate and dangerous gamble, Marion seduces Amis Lafitte, the notorious Bandit King, using him to defeat her family’s enemies. All seems well at last, but when you’re riding a wolf, dismounting might prove fatal. And when that wolf discovers you’ve ridden other steeds, people start to die.
Includes: Hetero sex, Lesbian sex, Threesomes, Female Domination, Female submission, oral sex, incorporeal sex
His arms stayed around her waist, so she reached down and squeezed his arse. He continued to kiss her, but only kiss her. She pushed herself against him, and he held her, but only held her. She broke the kiss and looked up at him. “Have you been with a woman before?” she asked.
His breath came short and rapid, carrying the scent of fresh bread. “Of course. I am a widower. Eda and I were man and wife in the eyes of God.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“Your next command,” he said.
Marion leant back and looked at him. Could it be? Imelda and the other village women always made ribald jokes about husbands or past encounters. Joyce in particular bragged of bedding a dozen men before settling for Reuben. She told stories of a man in Aston who had unusual desires. Did Daniel share his inclinations?
If so, what in God’s name did he want her to do? She felt out of her depth, that this whole thing was a bad idea. Marion put her hands on Daniel’s chest to push him away but stopped herself. If she gave up now, what then? All other options were bad, for her, for the boys, for Imelda. She had to at least try. Besides, she wanted him, so much the ache inside her cut like a knife.
She thought back to the night before, the strange reunion with her dead mother. When Marion had dragged off that stifling wimple, she hanged. She felt different, stronger, desirable. The beautiful boy with the golden eyes had seen it too. He’d wanted her.
Daniel wanted her too. She’d seen it before but not recognised it. She knew it now, but the form of his desire surprised her.
That’s all it was, unexpected. Breathe, think, and take advantage.
“Let me go,” she said. He released her immediately and stepped back, lips twitching but saying nothing. She studied him. Was he excited about what might happen? Or worried about what might not?
Marion strolled around him, forcing herself to move slowly. She ran a hand down his arm as she passed. His muscle shivered, but he stared straight ahead. In a few steps she stood in front of him again. She cocked her head. “Take off your tunic,” she said.
He unfastened the lace and lifted the brown top over his head. He draped it over the stool and looked at her. A vein pulsed in his neck.
The firelight flickered across his bare skin, etching it with shadow. He was a big man, broad and tall. Muscled curves and bulges testified to years of hard labour. Few of the poor were fat, and he was as lean as any of them.
Marion thought back to whispered tales, Joyce’s bawdy boasts. She’d day-dreamed, fantasised of things she’d do with a man. Now she didn’t have to dream.
Without conscious thought she ran her fingers over his chest. He felt smooth, the hair fine and pale. She traced across his stomach and over his navel. There, a strip of more luxuriant hair ran up from his hose. She twirled a finger through it, and his jaw clenched.
“This”, she said, “is most entertaining.” She heard him breathe out, and his skin prickled under her touch. She withdrew her hand and stepped over to his bed. As she turned to sit, she saw him looking at her over his shoulder. “Move when I tell you, not before.” Daniel snapped his head forward again.
She moved backwards up the bed until she could recline comfortably, taking the best position to admire him. “Turn to face me, come close” she said. He obeyed. She flexed her feet on the bed, tapped her fingers on her belt. Her mouth felt dry.
Do not stop now, she told herself. He’s yours. She stilled her hands and feet. “Take off your clothes,” she said.
Daniel lifted his foot and pulled one boot off, then the other. He put them under the bench and undid his linen belt, pulling it free. With no support his russet woollen hose sagged. The top of his braes and a strip of paler, creamier skin revealed themselves. He hooked his thumbs into his hose and pushed them down over his thick thighs. Taking the hose off, he laid them atop his other clothes.
When he straightened Marion saw his manhood pushing against the grey linen of his underwear. Her heart beat a little faster. His hands went to the cord around the top of his braes, then hesitated.
“Shy?” she asked.
“It is not like when we undressed as children to splash in the stream.”
“Indeed not, judging by the size of that,” she said.
Red in the face already, that sent Daniel a deeper crimson. His reaction emboldened her still further, she felt like a cat toying with a mouse. “Show me Daniel.”
This time he did not pause but unfastened his small clothes and let them drop. He was stiff and erect, with pale brown hair curling around his balls.
Marion swung her legs off the side of the bed and leant forward. She examined his cock. Ugly and beautiful. Unbidden, the memory of Mark came to her, bringing a pang of guilt so strong she shook her head to clear it.
Yes, Mark might indeed be alive and well, but with a dozen children and no thought for her. That was then, this is now. She dragged her fingertips along the underside of Daniel’s scrotum.
He yelped and his balls shrank away from her touch. Laughing, she touched him again. This time he managed to stand his ground. He had his eyes screwed shut, his chin almost resting on his chest. Caressing the base of his shaft, she drew her fingers along its length. She felt the delicateness of the covering skin, the strength of its form, its heat. She slid her thumb over its head, and he shuddered.
“Oh God,” he said.
This was so different from that first time, when she and Mark had explored the unknown together. This time she led. She sat fully clothed with a handsome man naked and obedient in front of her. He was bound by his need for her attention, a willing plaything, slave to her word and touch.
She gave his cock a playful slap. It rebounded hard and Daniel’s eyes flew open as he cried out.
“Shush! You stand strong and upright,” she whispered. “I want to play with you first.” He watched as she took him between her fingers. She kissed his stomach, moving her hand up and down.
Marion watched his cock respond to her touch. The supple skin stretching and rolling around the firm meat. She lost track of time as she played with the marvellous creation.
Suddenly she noticed that his breath had become more rapid and shallow. His cock became even stiffer, twitched, and spurted milky fluid from its single glistening eye.
“Oh,” she said, instinctively letting go. Daniel cried out as he pumped his seed into the air. Seeing his discomfort, she seized his cock again and milked it. Had she hurt him? He gripped her shoulder hard enough to make her wince. In a few seconds he’d finished and sagged forward, gasping as his hair fell into his eyes.
Marion released him and wiped her hand on his hip. She wondered if she should apologise, but he beat her to it. “Forgive me Marion. I tried not to, but it has been so long and you…it…” He scooped up his underwear and used them to wipe himself clean. All the time he avoided her gaze.
“You did very well, and we have just begun. You have only made me more determined to use you further,” she said truthfully.
“I don’t think I could…” he started, but she cut him off.
“When you speak to me, call me ‘my Lady’. And I will decide when you have finished.” She stood up, close enough for his declining member to touch her cote. She looked down, then up at him with a smile. “Let me take care of that.” She put a hand on his slick chest and turned him round. “Lie down,” she said.
Daniel lay on his bed as she had done, his cock now flagging. She had work to do. Marion lifted her cote above one knee, placing her foot on the bed. His gaze ran up her ankle and along her hose. It stopped at the bare flesh above her calf. His embarrassment seemed to subside a little.
She unfastened her shoe and pulled it off, then untied the garter slowly. She discarded the thin strip of linen and rolled the hose down. Easing it over her heel, she bared her foot. His eyes followed the movement.
Marion repeated this with her left foot, leaving her shoes and hose under his bed. Now barefoot, she pulled her dress up over her head. She curved her body to stretch the under-smock against it. She glanced down between his legs as she dropped the cote. Getting there.
Next, she tugged up the skirt of her smock and drew that over her head too. She had gone naked underneath and unveiling that excited her greatly. Judging by the angle of his cock, it had the same effect on Daniel. Remembering the stories the village women told, she knelt by the bed. Gripping the base of his cock, she took its head in her mouth.
It tasted of salt-sweat, with a hint of thicker liquid beneath it. She sucked gently and drew back, pushing her tongue against the underside of his shaft. Daniel sobbed and sighed, stroking the back of her head. She gripped his thick wrist, pulling it away and pushing it down onto the bed.
Marion experimented by pulling back further, leaving just the head in her mouth. She stroked her tongue around it. He moaned again and his hips writhed, seemingly undecided whether to push or recoil. His cock felt as stiff and erect as at the start. She opened her mouth and let it spring free, winning another small cry.
Interesting, she decided, but she had a better use for it. She kissed him on the mouth, then stood up. She let him gaze at her nakedness from his prone position. His adoring, hungry look made her skin prickle. She felt like a queen.
Putting one knee on the bed she threw the other across him. She then held his cock steady, and lowered herself onto it.
With a sigh, she sat back, her full weight pushing him deeper inside her. She savoured the feel of him, and heard herself let out a low, contented “Mmmmm…”
“My Lady,” he whispered.
He lay transfixed, at her mercy, staring up adoringly. She pinned him to the bed despite being half his size. Not a queen, she thought, his goddess.
Slowly she rocked her hips, forcing him to close his eyes and gasp again. Looking ahead she gazed into space, running her hands up her thighs to her hips. Marion stroked her stomach, then squeezed her breasts. She pulled at her nipples and ran one hand up her neck into her hair. She rode and ignored her mount, as he bore and worshipped her.
After some minutes she reached forward and dragged her short nails over his body, sending twitches across his pained, ecstatic face. Lightly she scratched his stomach and he flinched, but she only rode him harder. He opened his eyes and took hold of her hips. She allowed it, stretching backwards so that her breasts stood proud. He reached for them as if he had heard her mental command.
He held her gently, too gently. She leant forward, pinched his nipples and twisted. He cried out and she laughed. Now she took his wrists and pinned them next to his head. Her hair hung into his face and she ground down, shifting her weight, exploring. “You desire me don’t you,” she whispered.
If he heard her, he didn’t respond.
“I said ‘you desire me, don’t you?’” she said, loud and clear.
His eyes snapped open. “Yes, my Lady. Yes, I desire you.”
“Am I beautiful?”
“Call me ‘My Lady’,” she said, lifting herself so he nearly slipped out of her.
“My Lady,” he whined, then groaned as she thrust down. Still holding his wrists, Marion started to fuck him earnestly. He grunted beneath her, and she felt her orgasm approaching. She chased it.
Now Daniel called out, “My Lady, my Lady.” She barely heard him over her own ragged pants. He was not important anymore.
She came, and it felt as if she had broken into a rage. She bore down on him, almost growling through her convulsions. He came then for a second time, and nearly threw her off as he bucked. Marion’s orgasm finished long after his.
He looked up at her with finger sized welts on his chest. “My Lady,” he whispered again. Marion swept her hair out of her eyes, kissed him, then lay against him.
After her pulse had regained a sensible pace, she considered her conquest. She had seduced him, but had she won him?
Eventually she clambered off and started to find her clothes.