Jacintas Tale

Striding down the hillside to freedom, Jacinta forced herself not to look back at her lover/guide, Noctilio. His rough exacting of the payment of her body for the safe journey over the hills had repelled her, yet she left him reluctantly. Moving voluntarily into his arms had been her forgiveness and a tenderness had sprung up between them. Knowing there was no place for her in his fraught life she had quit his territory, the better to leave him free to continue his missions. The privations of war reduced some humans to acts of violent bestiality and some to acts of awful heroism.

She had trusted Noctilio and he had delivered her to this uneasy freedom in a neutral country. Neutral, but still teeming with spies and barely contained combatants under the nervous control of a government fearful of antagonising the warring parties adjoining its boundaries. Pulling her cap down closer over her face Jacinta kept her eyes down, taking occasional glimpses of her route past the outlying houses of the town, attempting the gait of the young man she appeared in her rough borrowed clothes. Rounding a corner, a guttural 'halt!' in the local patois shook her to a standstill.

One glance at the stolid shaven head told her this was no native, but one to fear, and the sleek Doberman straining on the leash perhaps more to be feared. Darting glances each way for escape, she broke and fled down a narrow passage, wildly searching for an escape or hiding place. Hearing the sound of the pursuing animal she slipped between barn doors, leaning to close them behind her as paws slammed into the heavy wood on the other side. Heart pounding, she surveyed her sanctuary, or was it a prison? No other exit appeared in the other three walls, with just straw bales stacked around, and a crude ladder leading to an upper storey where more straw was stored. Scrabbling up the broken rungs she flung herself into the loose harvest, burrowing deep then stilled to listen as the barn door swung open and two sets of feet entered below... The dog excitedly quartered the room, zeroing in at the base of the ladder.

Silent, barely breathing, Jacintas spirits fell when a gruff, "Halt!" echoed in the barn and she felt the shaking of the ladder as her pursuer ascended. The booted feet stomped loudly across the boards beneath her belly. With an "Ah, ha!", a strong hand grasped her ankle, pulling her roughly into the light. Curling into foetal position she waited...

"Stand up!" a kick landed on her ribs and she realised the role of a male might not be wise anymore. Rising to her feet, she raised her eyes in defiance, slowly lifting a hand to her cap, and with her head proud, her mane cascaded down her shoulders.

"What have we here?" Incredulity showed in his stance and voice. His eyes gleaming as he took on a speculative mien. "Take off the rest." he ordered. While he stared, mesmerised at every movement of her hands, Jacinta slowly disrobed, the jacket sliding to the floor, removing boots and socks to join it. Her hands twisted open each buttonhole down the trousers till they too slide down. Stepping out, her long brown limbs drew her captors leering eyes.

As she slowly undid each button on the rough boys shirt, a challenge in her eyes, the man, holding her gaze, joined her in undressing. His weapons and then his clothes joined hers on the floor. Relief flooded through her, fear of injury or death receding for the while. Pacing her last removal, they both emerged together, his erection already evident.

"I want you." he uttered, and she seeing the desire in his strongly muscled body she stepped into his world of fantasy, knowing she was gambling with her life. He may be as starved as Noctilio - so she would be what he wanted. He was a man, after all, without insignia, now they were truly on neutral ground.

His strong hands coursed down her form, thumbs lingering over her nipples, then, gripping her thighs, he knelt before her, burying his head in her pelt. Opening his mouth he sucked, playing his tongue over, into her, searching. His teeth found her hood covered button and she wondered at his potential for violence. But no, he was intent on arousing her - and her body responded to his gentle nibbling with aching waves up through her hardening nipples. Hearing her sighs, he rose, propelling her back til she fell into the loose straw, oblivious to the texture, allowing her thighs to splay open.

Drawn in, he covered her body with his, cock pressing to enter, his saliva and her juices slicking the way. Immediately he filled her, his cock exploded, losing control. Collapsing onto her, he moaned his frustration and she smothered a smile, her hand stroking his neck. Needing him to stay, to his full satisfaction, she murmured in his ear waiting...

Presently, testing his sense of security and prove her involvement, she rolled and straddled him. Rocking with him half hard in her, eyes closed, hair swaying, he reached up eagerly, suckling her breasts. Sending her mind back up into the hills, reaching for the memory of another lover, she ground her pelvis into his, feeling him harden once more. Moans bursting from deep with her, rolling contractions clamped him tight, reassuring him of her involvement.

Taking heart, her captor bucked her off onto her back again, driving, fucking deep within her tightness, proving himself. Jacinta kept from responding actively, her hips not rising to meet his, trying to extend his time with her. He rode her smoothly, slowly this time as if laying down memories that would have to serve him for many months to come. The way a woman sheathed his cock, the hot folds gave way to his shaft, his balls swinging with each stroke, and drawing up, until... again he came, shuddering, into her, weakening his arms, falling beside her.

Feigning sleep, eyes closed, Jacinta listened to his breathing as it steadied, slowed then quieted to slumber. Slowly, looking back to watch for stirring, she crawled to his clothes, searching for a weapon, something quiet, deadly. From his belt sheath she withdrew a blued hunting knife, dull and wicked. Edging back to his sleeping body, she crouched over him, drawing in a deep breath, her sore ribs complaining, reminding her of the callous kick. This was the enemy. This was war or it wasn't.

At her intake, his eyes fluttered open, took in the knife, scowled then growled with anger. With that, she drove the knife into his chest, below the ribs, angling upwards as she was taught, towards the heart.

Checked in his lunge at her by the pain, she scrambled out of reach, crouching in the corner, as his bellows turned coughs and then finally to silence. The dog below paced agitatedly and she realised there was another obstacle to her freedom. Creeping closer, she watched the mans chest for breathing, but none, and beside the body a widening pool of blood collected, running down between the loose boards. Dropping through the loose floorboards, the dog approaching the drips and howling.

Sitting, arms braced behind her, she manoeuvred her feet for pushing the heavy body, propelling it, sliding it on the loose straw until it tumbled over the edge to the hungry dog below. Lying at the edge she watched the animal turn from its masters' servant to its masters' devourer. Hurriedly pulling on her clothes, snatching up the gun from the other pile, she climbed warily down the ladder, the dog hardy noticing her passage, so engrossed. Darting to the door, heaving a space, she passed through, turning once again to slam it on the pair, this time instead of trapped, with her freedom...