NO PRISONERS

The Roman Centurion rode through the icy prairie of Northumbria, wandering among the destinies of a conquered land at the expense of much blood and sweat; he watched that inhospitable land and stripped of soul thinking of the hundreds of companions who fell before the enemy, only to satisfy the hunger for conquest of the powerful. Deep in his heart, what he really wanted was to be in Rome with his friends, satiating his thirst with all the wine that his wage could buy, and relieving his impetuous virility in the filled whorehouses of the lower city, which offered all sorts of forbidden and unknown pleasure. Suddenly, the silence of an arrow cutting through the air, drew the Roman warrior from his thoughts, imposing on him the rapid reaction characteristic of the men forged in battle; he turned away from the play, lapping his body and jumping off his mount, protecting himself with the short shield and drawing the glade that hung in his belt; in defense position, his shrewd eyes prescrew the horizon, seeking the origin of the surprise attack. Again, another arrow cut the air, but fortunately, the aim of the aggressor was not as fortuitous as the first blow; Petron the centurion placed himself in a combat position, waiting for the next blow; and as he examined the terrain, a mount arose from the trees further down the west side of the prairie; the horse, a beautiful specimen of the battle horse of bright black hair and huge paws that, in motion, caused the hooves to raise frozen tufts of dead vegetation, making its movement even more threatening, brought upon itself a woman! Petronius, for a moment, was surprised to see that his opponent was a woman; but he well knew that he was in Northumbria, a land of the Celtic tribes, where the women were so or so braver than men, which is why he quickly recovered from surprise, preparing to face his attacker; he waited for the right moment, and when the mount was at a distance where there would be nowhere to retreat or perform evasive maneuvers, Petron took hold of the long shield that was lodged in his mount, kneeling and waiting to strike the counterattack. As soon as the huge horse stopped with him, and the Amazon bent her sword towards the centurion, Petron lifted his shield, while at the same time striking the front hip of the horse that shriveled almost in a groan, feeling the wound that made him bend violently, falling and pitching his mount away. Petronius then rose up to check the final result of his defense; on the one hand he mounted it lay on the ground, emitting a sound that seemed more like a shrill cry; on the other, the Celtic also lay on a small snowy hill, stripped of his sword, trying, by all means, to recover from the blow to a strike. The centurion approached the mount and found that it had broken one of the front legs; the Roman, pitying the beautiful animal, lifted up his head and with a blow with the handle of his gladium on the forehead of the animal, ended his suffering. Then he walked to the warrior who still lay on his face on the frozen hill; his body was covered with a bear's skin and his black hair as night mixed with the furs of his unusual garment. Petron bowed down, pulling her by the shoulder; and what was not his surprise when he realized that the woman had in one hand a long dagger, hidden under her body, ready to strike a mortal blow. The Roman warrior, accustomed to the treacherous actions of the tribal enemies of that island, prevented aggression, holding her wrist firmly, pulling her arm quickly, preventing the attack and causing the warrior to painfully rotate her body on her own axis, falling sideways, staggering her back on the cold ground. Panting, she could not react, meeting under the rule of the Roman; Petron observed the warrior for an instant, falling for her dazzling beauty; in addition to the long black hair, she owned a beautiful face, which, even muddy with dry clay and the undefeated blue paint of Celtic war painting, did not lose its rustic tribal beauty, insinuating and unsettling. For a moment, the callous Roman legionary warrior was entangled by the beauty and natural sensuality of his opponent. Its bare bust, medium sized and very firm, with swollen nipples seemed an invitation to the most delicious of sins imagined by libidinous satyrs, surrendered in the orgies to the god Dionysius; only a tiny thong of raw leather served as protection to their private parts, whose design also consisted of obscure invitation to pleasure. Retrieving from the state of lethargy caused by the enormous beauty of his aggressor, Petronius was charged with keeping her immobilized, holding her hands with strips of sheepskin and iron shackles with heavy bracelets on her feet. Then he looked around looking for his mount; he went to her, bringing her next to his prisoner who, still dizzy, was thrown over the cell as if it were a charge. Prefering not to burden your horse Petronius chose to walk by letting his prisoner not be forced to walk with fetters on his legs; he well knew what it was like to be a prisoner; in his youth he was condemned to the galleys, with fetters wounding his flesh and the whip of the maker growling in his bloody skin ..., no one deserves a fate like that. The evening's faint sunlight was slowly fading, while a cold wind was blowing from the north, announcing that the mantle of the night was about to cover the whole earth; Petronius pressed the pace, as he intended to reach the Ninth Legion’s outpost of watch, where he would find shelter, hot food and some wine. And long before darkness became lordship of the firmament, the centurion saw the brightness of the fires surrounding the watch stand held by a group of legionaries. He kept the young Celtic attached to a trunk with iron straps and went to the intendency to get something to eat; he fed, sipping milk instead of wine; he got rid of the belt and combat vest, going to his mount; he patiently brushed the animal when he heard a scream coming from the center of the camp; and what was not his surprise when he saw a group of lancers harassing his prisoner. Taken by an atrocious anger, the centurion laid hands on an ax of war, throwing it towards the trunk; as they saw the blade of the weapon almost tore the hard tissue of the trunk they fell in silence, observing the approach of the graduated soldier. Petron rebuked them, with a strong and authoritarian tone of voice; he said that the young prisoner was not an animal to be treated in that way, and that they had more important things to do; with modulated gestures, he scattered the horde of warriors who, even dissatisfied, found it right to obey the superior. Petronius and the young woman looked at each other and after a brief interval of time he walked to her, freeing her from the trapping in the trunk; loosed the shackles that held the young woman's legs and led her to a tent that served as temporary accommodation for travelers who were heading for the Adriano Wall that was still under construction. Inside it was a confined fire that made the atmosphere warm and pleasant; there was hot and fresh food and water; the centurion offered food and drink to the young woman who devoured everything like a hungry animal; finish the meal she looked at the Roman hoping he would say something. Petron gave him his back, and went behind a screen from which he returned wearing a wool coat, bringing another in his hands, which he offered him, since he had been naked after the siege of the lancers. -I'll let go of your hands – he said, in a firm tone – but if you try anything, I will strike you and you will return to the trunk ..., are we understood? The young woman transmuted her gaze, becoming more receptive, nodding with her head in accordance with the foreign soldier's proposal. Petron wanted to know more about her and the reason for her solitary attack; the young woman, protecting her intimacy with the skin of a bear that had been restored to her, said her name was Kailah, the daughter of a tribal chief who was more north of the location of the Roman garrisons; she told her that she had strayed from her hunting group and that when she saw the centurion, her first reaction was the attack. - Although I don't regret what I did ..., you proved very good to me – she ended her narrative with a certain tone of regret. Petronius condoned the situation of the young woman who really seemed to tell the truth; he then said that she could sleep there, next to him, as a way to avoid a new harassment of the lancers crowded at that watch station. “It’s been a long time since they had a woman ... especially a woman so beautiful and so young”, the centurion took off, turning aside and settling down as it was possible on the fur-covered campaign stretcher. Kailah looked around and soon concluded that the best thing to do was to accommodate himself close to the Roman, taking advantage of the small space left over the stretcher to rest and regain some strength; in minutes, the young Celtic warrior found herself in the arms of the master of dreams. There was a cold breeze blowing into the tent, which, even though heated by the confined fire, would eventually make the atmosphere colder; Petron awoke to feel Kailah's arms around him, demonstrating that she was also cold; he felt a chill going through his spine and an involuntary excitement giving signs of unexpected vitality; a little hesitant, he turned on the bed, facing the young Celtic warrior and reciprocating the embrace received. The dawn was high when the centurion felt something unusual ..., an excitement grew inside, and there was a sensation ..., a delicious sensation; the flames of the fire were diffuse, leaving the atmosphere immersed in a penumbra that showed only shadows and silhouettes. He opened his eyes and did not see Kailah; suddenly, a sensation exploded in his body; he looked down and had the most impressive view of his life! The young Celtic warrior was between the Roman's legs and held in one of his hands his hard and hard phallus as a stone that hurt to pulsate; she handled it with extreme skill, and without warning, put it inside his mouth, sucking it and spitting it out slowly and slowly, raising the intensity of the gesture in a paulatine way. Petronius couldn't believe what his eyes saw! The female with deep eyes savored the huge cock holding herself, at once, in the swollen gland, applying circular movements to her, reaching to squeeze her with the tongue, a gesture that led the centurion to the pincars of a boundless excitement. Letting himself be carried away by the situation, the callous warrior stroked the silky hair of the young woman, encouraging her to continue in her deep caress; at a certain moment, taken by a foolish steal, Kailah climbed upon the body of Petron and helped him to get rid of the robe that still covered part of his body. Almost hypnotized, Kailah looked closely at each of the scars covering her chest and also her partner's muscular arms, kissing them one by one, in a clear display of affection and desire. With the same incredible skill as before, Kailah began to swirl her waist, allowing her vagina to rub her partner's virile limb, rubbing with well-stricken movements; Petron felt that caress creep all over his skin, making him even more excited. Eyes in the eyes, while the young Celtic also got rid of her tunic, displaying her beautiful breasts with swollen nipples, begging to be savored; Petron didn't waste any time, and he snubbed guy one of them, alternating them in his avid mouth. With the same dexterity she had already demonstrated, Kailah moved her pelvis in such a way that her vagina could swallow the hard member of her partner, which happened as soon as she felt the glande swirling the entrance; she then caused her waist to lower her pelvis, allowing penetration to take place with immense perfection and depth; as she felt filled by the virile member of the Roman, the young Celtic did not waste time, starting up and down movements on the mast that filled her vagina, while not allowing Petron to neglect her nipples. Petron, taken by such a state of ecstasy, tasted the moment he had Kailah, caressing her buttocks and encouraging her to intensify even more pelvic movements ..., and it was in this climate of absolute lust, that the Celtic experienced her first orgasm, which was celebrated profusely, with groans and cries of immense pleasure. And after him, others followed, each one more caudal than the previous, draining the forces of the young woman who only continued with bodily movements because so ordered the hands of the Roman by squeezing her waist and causing her to climb and descend on her limb that showed no signs of cooling ..., after all, long ago the Roman did not taste a young woman whose desire seemed to know no limits. Throughout that night, the couple changed position several times, until the Roman made the young woman stay on four, penetrating her from behind; although Kailah did not appreciate that position, since she denoted a certain unacceptable submission in her culture, in her core, she could not hide from herself how much pleasure she was afforded, which is why she was submissive to the will of her partner, whose affront was still very snuffy and careless. At one point, Petron stopped striking, leaving her limb inside the young woman's bowels; she looked over her shoulder and saw her partner's warm and flashing look, denouncing that she still had great pleasure in granting her..., and it was in this climate that the insatiable Roman, drew his member from Kailah's vagina, swirling the swollen gland in another orifice that blinked with a certain fear. The young woman looked at him, demonstrating a mixture of fear, splattered with excitement; for a few moments, Roman and Celtic fell bound to her own gaze that seemed to shout inaudible words in all directions, begging, now demanding, sometimes whispering ..., all desire and all pleasure summed up to what they really wanted ..., what they expected for that night of endless pleasure ... It took no more than a blink of Kailah's eye for Petron to understand that it was an unrestricted acceptance for what was to come; the Roman then pitched, striking the small hole with bluntness, projecting the huge gland into the insides of the young Celtic who, in turn, closed his teeth, keeping a penetrating look toward his partner, denoting that what was done was only the confirmation of the desire that both were breathing at that time. Petron, holding his partner by the waist, continued, advancing into it, breaking the squalid anatomical resistances that still persisted; with the small orifice completely torn by the impetuosity of the Roman, Kailah did not let himself win, showing his insinuating and brave resistance, reaching the point that his contractions controlled penetration, simulating slight bites along the limb and making his partner almost go mad with pleasure. Shortly afterwards, Petron mercilessly struck Kailah's ass, projecting in and out of his anus his stiff member, with the same momentum as before, as if his energies had been renewed at that unforgettable moment ..., the young Celtic, in turn, retained the manly boldness of her partner, squeezing his member with the contraction of his anus, driving him to madness with a sense of male domination by the energetic sweetness of the female, who forgotes the moment with provocative giggles. And the anal sex continued for so long, that it was not long before the first flashes of the morning came to spy on them in foolish frenzy. Feeling his forces drain as if they were draining down a drain into a bottomless well, Petron further intensified his final movements, until after an almost wild roar, he enjoyed, leaning on his partner, and letting his skillful fingers find the way of the warm and moist vagina, fingering it with incredible skill, providing a fruitful enjoyment in his partner so that together they could enjoy that unique moment. Petron ejaculated vigorously within the bowels of his partner, maintaining a rhythm of movements still very intense, and exploring the possibilities that his fingering imposed on the body of his partner; Kailah, gasping and almost energyless, felt the body weaken and the senses absent momentarily, dangerously bordering the complete loss of discernment of reality. Still impatient, Petron drew his member of the Kailah's anus, and with his powerful hands he turned it around on the stretcher; he spread her legs without resistance, plunging her face between them and allowing her impertinent mouth and tongue to search the region, until they found what they sought: a still hard and pulsating clit; the Roman tasted that hot and tasty delicacy, extracting more orgasms from his partner, who, defeated by the boldness of his partner, begged him to put an end to the luxurious torment that could last longer than she could imagine. They fell, then, definitely shot down by the sensual battle that took place throughout the night, and Petron celebrated that moment, seeking the lips of his partner and ending a long and deep kiss that was by no means avoided or rejected by her. And as life resumed its course in the advanced camp of the ninth legion, Petron caused Kailah to dress with a certain speed, leading her to the siege where the mounts were. Without a waste of time, the Roman sealed a horse, extending the reins to the young woman who looked at him with immense surprise, not understanding what his pretensions were; he smiled at her, causing her to climb the mount, while giving her a small leather saddlebag. “This is for your journey back, warrior,” he told her with a smile on her face. -But, I don't understand - said the young woman, completely confused with the actions of her opponent. -There is nothing to understand – he answered with a firm and quiet voice – just go ..., go away and join your ..., I do not know what will happen in the future, but I am sure that this land does not belong to us. Kailah looked into Petronium's eyes and for a moment felt a huge desire to jump off the horse, hug him and say she preferred to stand by him ..., and that's what she did, throwing herself in the arms of the Roman who tenderly wrapped her ..., they stayed so for a while, until Petron made her ride the horse again. They looked at each other for another moment that seemed to have no end. - Go, young warrior - he said in command - Follow your destiny and do not look back ... And as for you, she asked, unable to hide her concern for Petron's future. - Me? I follow my destiny – he answered impassive but caring – Now go ..., and don't worry, I have a motto ..., I never take prisoners! Petron broke the hip of the mount that break in a broken career; Petronius saw the silhouette disappear on the horizon; he turned back and glimpsed the walls under construction of Adriano's mighty Wall ..., thought about what the future had in store for him, and smiled at himself for the night he had beside a beautiful and courageous woman ..., yes ..., he had a motto: No prisoners!