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Burgeonie, spoke quietly with Silvonia.
“Silvy, do you ever look at your Guard?”
Her friend looked confused.
The two noblewomen were having a light lunch together in the sanctity of Burgeonie’s fortified mansion. Burgeonie, at least, was confined to the house for the entire day by necessity. Her Bodyguard, Baynor, had his day of leave. And Silvy’s Guard had gone with him. And the two Noblewomen friends had arranged to spend the day together in their Warriors’ absence.
Burgeonie was required to allow Baynor to leave whenever he requested absence, to serve his needs, but she didn’t mind. It gave her the chance to speak of something forbidden with her best friend. Something to do with him.
Burgeonie could talk of him now only because Baynor was with the Warrior Whores, having his needs satisfied by many women, as was custom for the Warrior kind.
Silvy looked perplexed, wondering what Burgeonie was getting at.
“Well, no. I have never looked. But it’s forbidden for them to look at us. So I just assumed always I did right by the Warriors to not look at them.”
Burgeonie blushed, not knowing quite how to broach this delicate subject with her friend. She tried a different angle.
“Have you not ever watched yours while he bathes? As he sleeps? When you take a lover to bed?” Burgeonie stared hard at Silvy, willing her to understand what she feared she could not simply say.
“Burgeonie, their beliefs and their code are sacred. I am ever grateful my Warrior protects me. I respect his way of life. Why do you ask?”
Burgeonie sighed. She’d have to come out and say it. She believed she could trust her oldest friend not to speak of it to anyone else, but still, old habits die hard and they were taught from birth to keep the classes segregated, in life, in deed, in word and in thought. The Warrior class, of all classes, believed in this code with all their strength and heart. It helped them to focus so they could do their jobs.
Taking a deep breath, Burgeonie just plunged straight in.
“I… My Guard is beautiful,” she spoke, softly, reverently. “When we met, I saw the most lovely man I have ever seen. But apart from that, I saw something else, felt and heard something. In his eyes, there was such hunger. In his voice, such buried yearning. I think that he loves me.”
Silvonia was openly shocked, her mouth hanging open wide.
“Tell me details,” she smiled, betraying her own secret curiosity of the strict Warrior men.
Burgeonie looked pained, as if what she spoke of was so sacred, that to utter words would be to sully it.
But finally, she said, “I was so struck by his beauty and the discordance of longing in his soul, that I peeked while we bathed.”
Silvonia’s brows hit the roof.
“Oh, Silvy. His body is poetry in motion, his muscles are sculpted like an angel, powerful and perfect. His face reflects the beauty of Heaven above. And… I looked at his manhood.”
“Tell me of the Warrior’s sword. Oh I’m dying to know. I’ve heard such stories.”
Burgeonie rolled her eyes at her friend, but secretly she was greatly relieved to be able to confide in her.
Burgeonie swallowed, closing her eyes as she remembered the sight of her Warrior’s naked body and penis. Her body fluttered involuntarily, responding to the memory of glimpsing her own virile example of masculine power.
“It is magnificent. It hangs the length of my forearm, as thick around as my wrist. His sac is heavy, like plums. The cap of his weapon is sleek, like a helmet. And… I have seen it in readiness.”
Silvonia’s eyes lit up.
“Tell me all of it, in detail.”
Burgeonie worried at her lower lip with her teeth.
“Well, when it is engorged, its color blushes to deep pink. It grows in size and stiffens, stretching up high and bowing when he walks. Dewy beads of fluid seeped from its slit. While we bathed, when he thought I was not looking, I saw him grip the shaft in his fist and rub it.”
Burgeonie demonstrated the graceful pumping motion of primal male self-pleasure.
“He realized it not, but he groaned aloud. Ohh, the sound! It made me wet for him.”
“I can imagine. Tell me, have you taken a lover to bed with Baynor?”
Silvy referred to the rule that the Warrior’s charges may not ever be left alone, unguarded, not even during intimate couplings.
“Yes. Just once. Baynor looked pained with emotion and his tool bulged in his breeches. Silvy, would it be terribly wrong to ease him? I want to feel his maleness. I want to satisfy my warrior.”
The warmth of the water seeped into Baynor’s muscles.
He didn’t feel aches or pains really but the heat was soothing anyway, and Burgeonie desperately needed the bath to get warm.
He had placed her in the hot pool after carefully removing her clothes, averting his eyes the whole time.
Bodyguards did not mean anything to their Charges, as the law was taught. Guards were there for protection kartal escort bayan only. And so Baynor pushed aside his own desire to protect his beautiful Charge from the chill of Death himself.
When he’d removed his own clothes and slipped into the large hot bath pool beside her, it was business only. Be near your Charge at all times. Those were the rules.
So he lay on his side facing Burgeonie and tried to enjoy the bath as he waited for her to awaken.
In the four years since he’d been pledged to protect her, he’d been naked with her many times, in bed with her many times, and not one stray thought, not one furtive glance, and definitely no inappropriate touch. That was the code.
He’d been diligent in all aspects of his job. Except one.
Bodyguards were not supposed to care for their Charges.
And he hadn’t before. His previous Charges were all business arrangements. He hardly remembered what they looked like, so much he’d avoided looking at them, as was proper.
You don’t get emotionally involved. It throws off your instincts and skills. And besides, the Charge should feel like they are always alone.
He’d been in bedrooms dozens of times while his Charges had sexual intercourse, as part of the furniture, though he could hear the liquid sounds of sex, the grunts and groans of fucking, smell the musky scent.
He’d been in showers while they bathed, bathing himself. Ignored by the Charge and ignoring.
But not Burgeonie.
When he’d accepted the post, the only time he was permitted to speak with and closely look at his Charge, he’d met her and had been astonished. She was so tiny, so fragile, gamine and fey in her pale-haired, pale-skinned beauty, so different from his darkness. He’d immediately worried about her, a cardinal rule already broken.
He should have rescinded his post straight away, by the laws, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He had to protect her. It was a need in him so strong it couldn’t be overruled. He would devotedly sacrifice his considerably large muscles and bones, happily siphon off his lifeblood, in the course of discharging his duty. He would die for Burgeonie. He cared that much.
In the world of Warriors, it was expected of them to die for their Charges, but the death was clean, dispassionate, a strategy employed to tactical advantage. Not because you loved the Noblewoman. The emotion itself could cause massive errors in judgment, get the Charge killed and instead of the Guard. It was utterly forbidden.
But Baynor didn’t care. His heart was taken and his fate was sealed the moment he laid eyes on her.
Burgeonie lay facing him, unconscious and shivering.
She’d been attacked today, for her jewels, and had gotten caught in the snow as Baynor dispatched the assailant in a violent rage.
She had been freezing, had fallen faint. In a panic, he’d carried her to the nearest bathhouse to warm her up.
And here they were.
Burgeonie’s skin was so soft where he’d had to touch it to move her, undress her, so soft and pale. His big warrior body had betrayed him and gotten hard, his penis punching erect and throbbing.
He’d have to go visit a Warrior Whore soon, maybe straight after. He needed to ejaculate and that’s what the Whores were for, to keep Bodyguards and Warriors, burdened with insatiable appetites, on a level.
Their bodies were carnal engines, huge and strong, and the visits to the Whores were the few times Bodyguards ever left their Charges. But Baynor hated that he had to do it, to sully his own body with women he knew not and cared not for. He wished he could sate his desires with Burgeonie, with his love.
But the notion was ridiculous. Burgeonie cared as much for him as the bed she slept on, the food she ate. Which is to say, not at all.
Baynor blamed her not, it was how all were raised.
He tried to suppress his pulsating cock while placing her in the pool and had managed only somewhat. His dick was at half-mast but if he avoided touching it, the erection would eventually go limp.
Still. He really wanted to fist it, pump it off until his come spurted everywhere. Inwardly he swore. He’d waited too long again to see the Whores.
He closed his eyes, blocking at least his view of her naked skin, and tried to brand this experience, this closeness with Burgeonie, as commonplace, routine.
Bodyguards did not actually watch their Charges. They averted their eyes, scanning the area around the Charge, relying on superior hearing to alert them, and offering a modicum of visual privacy.
But did the Charges avert their eyes also? Baynor wondered how many of his Charges had watched him undress, watched his muscles flex as he moved, watched his massive cock and heavy balls as they swung between his thighs.
He supposed they had every right to, never mind what they were taught. It wasn’t really against the rules for a Charge, more a matter of decorum. And the Bodyguard’s body belonged to the Charge. So escort maltepe he had no real reason for modesty.
With his eyes still closed, he heard Burgeonie move, felt the water tumbling under its surface. What he did not expect was warm flesh, wrapping around his huge naked frame.
His eyes opened and he nearly jerked out of the water. Burgeonie had nestled into him for comfort, folding her graceful arms around his waist and his neck, nudging her knee between legs, rubbing up against him.
He tried to shut her out, close his eyes again, clamp down on his instincts. But it was impossible, his blood was boiling, making him sex-starved.
“Baynor,” she said, her voice still high and musical like bells, but strained from her ordeal. “You saved me.”
Her hips touched his cock and it ripped into readiness, hard as diamond. Her skin kept grazing the sensitive head, sending waves of pleasure through his body.
She had to feel his full mast. How could she miss it?
“Hold me, please, my beautiful Warrior,” she said softly. “Please.”
Her tone was desperate, pleading. He could no more deny her than turn the Earth in the opposite direction.
Baynor wrapped his arms around her tiny frame, and her breasts brushed his nipples, slid across his pecs.
“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely.
He lay with her in the heat, his instincts screaming to push his dick into her wet hole, and even with a Warrior’s discipline, he barely controlled himself.
When he felt a delicate hand grip his penis, he tensed up completely, his dick demanding release.
He was going to fuck his client. There was no stopping that now.
You did not tease a Warrior, he would take what he wanted if you pushed him too far.
It was never rape, far from it, he just relentlessly found ways to get you to submit. He would arouse you in any way possible, with words, with fingers, with his body.
But if the final answer was no, he would leave, though it was a cruelty of the highest caliber to send a heated warrior away unsatisfied. If you were responsible for his erection, then you were responsible for sating his lust.
Burgeonie spoke again, so sweetly.
“Every day you protect me, lie with me, bathe with me, and you think I cannot see your feelings? When we are naked, I see your staff. It’s always aroused.”
His brow creased in torment. He didn’t say anything though. Did neither confirm nor deny his feelings. He didn’t know what to say.
I love you? Fuck me, Burgeonie? My cock is leaking come for you?
“Big, beautiful warrior. Let me ease your suffering.”
With that she began pumping his cock, sliding the smooth soft skin over the rock hard core, rubbing the blunt head, massaging its ridges. He couldn’t hold back the single low, growling groan that escaped his lips.
“So big. So strong,” she whispered looking adoringly at his hard penis. “So incredibly beautiful.”
You are the beautiful one, he thought in his head, staring at her, breathing hard and heavy, trying not to groan aloud as she jerked him off.
Now that they had started, they would be there for a while. Warriors lasted for hours sometimes when they fucked.
And all Baynor could think of was orgasm, of sitting Burgeonie hard on his cock and flooding her with his come. His balls were tight with anticipation. He had failed his brothers, violated the code, and now he was here, a breath away from what he wanted, and despising himself for how it had happened.
“Sit on the edge of the pool, my savior.”
Baynor did as she asked. You obeyed your Charge in all things.
“Spread your legs a little.”
His knees parted and the heavy penis fell between his thighs. His head was in his hands in shame. And truly guilt was on his mind, but his body would not be ignored. His powerful heart pumped racing blood through his veins, lungs drawing air deep, everything that was physical so dramatic that the shame was quickly drowned in need. He became a creature of sex, driven by his urges, seductive and skilled.
A moment later, Burgeonie’s lips wrapped around his cock and he cried out as she sucked on his erection, as the last of his rational thought dissipated like mist. Her head bobbed up and down, the wet pulling on his achingly hard dick feeling unbelievably good. Her tongue tickled the underside of its head, laving the sensitive ridge.
“Hold my head and move me to your pleasure, my Guardian,” she ordered as she came up off him, her voice changing, deepening with desire, her own breathing labored. “I want only your pleasure. I need your body, and it needs release, so let me ease you.”
He cradled her head in his large hands, lust overwhelming guilt and shame, and sliding his penis over her wet lips before slipping it into her mouth again. Inside once more, he gently held her head down as he thrusted up.
Oh my god, feels so fucking good, he thought over and over as pendik escort he fucked her mouth, groaning from the pleasure.
This was no Whore he was with. This was illicit and exciting, and completely illegal. It was Burgeonie, who he’d fantasized about for years, his love.
Fucking a charge was absolutely forbidden. He knew not what would happen upon completion of the act.
Perhaps he would be executed. An end, at least, to his suffering.
After a little while, Burgeonie released his arousal and stood up in front of him, her naked wet body right in front of him. Her breasts were perky and full, begging to be fondled.
“Please, touch me with your strong Warrior body. Please,” she breathed.
Baynor chanced a look up, and what he saw stunned him beyond belief. Burgeonie gazed down at him adoringly, bathing him in pure love, her love.
It was not just him, they loved each other.
Determined now to satisfy his love, he hooked her knee up and placed her foot on his thigh, and just like that, her secret was revealed to him, her slit unfolded before his eyes, graceful plump lips, no hair, and a swollen clit protruding.
He slid his hand up the inside of her thigh, and stroked the slit in long caresses from her anus to her clit. She was slippery and hot.
His fingers gently spread the lips apart and he extended a long middle finger, slipping it into her cunt. She cried out in pleasure, knees trembling.
Her vagina was tight inside and slick, and he rubbed at her walls, finding the spot he knew made women come. Relentlessly, he banged her cunt with his thick finger, and with his other hand, her pushed her lips apart, exposing her clit.
Leaning forward, he stuck his tongue out and flicked the nubby bud, as his finger penetrated. She moaned, swooned.
Warriors knew all about the pleasures of the bedroom, about fucking women and making them come. Orgasm was demanded by the Warrior Whores as payment for their services. So every Warrior knew how to incite orgasm with skill.
He sucked her clit into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. He felt her vagina tense up, wanting to spasm.
Ohhh, not yet, he said in his mind.
“Bend over for me,” his deep, husky voice, not heard by her in years, echoed through the empty baths. His heart leapt in shock as he realized what he’d done.
Baynor had issued his first demand ever of a charge, utterly unheard of.
And yet, Burgeonie turned around and complied, willing to do whatever pleased him.
He kissed each cheek of her smooth firm bottom before she bent at the waist.
Oh, dear god. The sight of her vulva in his face made his dick ache.
Her cunt was fully open to him and her anus revealed. He licked thoroughly up her centre, delving into the folds, and continued up, tickling her anus with his tongue, a tight puckered gateway to pleasure. The Whores loved this.
He pushed his tongue into the tight hole and she melted, obscene groans coming from her sweet mouth. Then he returned to her slit, inserting his tongue in her vagina, pushing it in as far as he could go. He found the spot inside her again and kept flicking it.
“Ohhhhh, Warrior!” She panted, breathless and shaking.
When he eventually pulled away, he asked a question of her, another first.
“Do you want my phallus, mistress?” He whispered desperately.
“Ohhhh! Yes, Baynor. I want your cock inside me.”
“Then choose as you sit on it, mistress. Do you wish the orchid or the rosebud?”
He was asking if she wanted his dick in her vagina, the orchid, or in her anus, the rosebud.
His cock throbbed as she considered. With a secret smile, he knew which one he wanted.
“I want both,” she whispered.
Ohhhh, fuck! Me too, he said to himself.
He angled himself up, holding his shaft in position as her hips descended and the lips of her glossy slit parted over the head of his cock.
He pushed past her resisting entrance and then her tight, hot vagina sheathed him all the way to his balls. A ragged, carnal groan tore from Baynor’s throat as she skewered herself on his rock-hard mast.
“Mmmmmmmooooohhh! Oh mmmfffgggod! Baynor!” She screamed.
Ohh fuck me! He swore internally.
He cradled her firm bottom in his strong grip and lifted her off his dick a little, supporting her weight easily, then he rocked his hips so that his penis buried fully on the upswing, grazed her erotogenic spot and pulled out on the down.
Thrusting gently, his strong, hard dick did the stroking inside her, her wet cunt and tight muscles suctioning, frictionizing his sensitive head. Semen began to pulse in his testicles, preparing to eventually ejaculate.
He stirred her inside, curving the angle, always striking her spot. With his long arm, he reached around and took her clit between two fingers, kneading it, as he thrust with his pelvis.
The pussy fucking was slowly but surely getting him off but he wanted to finish in her asshole, he wanted to explode as those strong muscles gripped his dick.
He sawed into her until, to his alarm, he felt her cunt tighten around his penis beyond his ability to withstand, and he gritted his teeth and fought to hold on and not come, his muscles shivering with effort.
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