Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Backfire	By : Prophet-of-a-Darker-Script Category: +G through L > He-Man Views: 3093 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I disclaim He-Man and all related characters and locations. characters and locations belong to their respective agencies and I am not making any money in the writing of this fiction. The OCs and plot are of my own creation.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter Three

OOOOO-00000-IIIIIII-OOOOOOO-0000-IIIIII-00000-OOOOOOO

Ella snapped awake with a start. She turned and gazed across the empty bed and with her heart pounding she sank back into the deep pillowy confines. Had she really allowed herself to be taken by the Lord of Snake Mountain? Her answer came when she felt the dull throb between her legs.
Elders! What was she thinking? Why did she sacrifice her dignity and allow such a disgusting act? She bolted up on the bed, looking at its coverings. They were not the usual thin quilts and threadbare blankets that normally covered her in the night. These sheets were soft, their thread finely woven and held the scent of manly presence. The mattress and multiple pillows were soft, yet firm, making it easy to lay down one’s head and submit to slumber.
Or in Ella’s case, spread her legs for the comfort of a large bed. She stood and felt the dull throb give a lasting pulse; her core reminding her of what was given for the privilege of a soft bed and ample covers. Not one to wallow in self pity, she looked around the room, taking in its vast surroundings.
It was huge!
The double doors she had been carried through the night before, and her body gave a pleasant thrum when it remembered the male’s body pressed against her own as she was carried like a bride to bed, where each wider than her arm span and carved in beautiful, winding decoration of serpents.
A few paces from the bed was an oblong table and much to her surprise, it held two bowls of fruit. She went to the table, her stomach already growling from hunger. It had been two days since she last had a meal. Her conundrum of eating or not was answered in the form of a note on the opposite side of one of the bowls. A beautiful curling script invited Ella to eat as much as she wanted. She was also to bathe and make herself presentable to her new master.
Ella’s stomach twisted in a knot at the implications. But, she had made her decision last night when her body acted of its own accord and accepted a man for the first time since her husband’s passing. Grabbing the largest piece of fruit she ate, barely chewing before swallowing in her hunger as she surveyed the rest of the room.
On the far wall was a massive bookcase lining the room from floor to ceiling. Ella’s gaze roved over the ancient tomes, noting most of them looked to be hundreds of years old. The topics ranged from exotic flowers and herbs to complicated spell work and a few manuals on machinery that Ella couldn’t fathom. A few paces away from the bookshelf was a desk so large, it could have slept three people upon its surface. But the only thing that littered it was a few rolls of parchment, several scattered books, a heavy piece of metal with a marble base, and dust.
Between the desk and the double doors was a large wading pool. Ella glanced over the dove gray stones as they sunk into the floor. She popped the last piece of fruit into her mouth and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, streaking it with orange. Remembering the other half of her instructions, she pulled off her stained clothes and stepped toward the pool, gazing into its depths. The water shimmered with steam rising from its surface as it maintained its temperature. Ella could see a stone ridge that ran along the left and far sides of the pool. The right side looked to be the deepest part, but it was hard to gauge with the moving water. The fourth side was where she stood, just above the three gray and black steps that lead into the water. The steam made pearly ghosts, watching her hesitate at the water’s edge. Not wanting to boil her skin off, Ella dipped a toe into the water and was greeted by a most pleasant sensation. The water was hot, but not uncomfortably so. Like a child receiving a present she smiled, taking her first step down into the pool. It swirled as a live creature, caressing her body with heat. She stood in the middle of the pool, the water lapped just above her belly button. She looked around knowing it could seat at least six people with ease. With a little giggle she lowered herself into the water, feeling the heat crawl up her belly and back, and over her shoulders. It felt amazing.
Having lived on a farm her whole life, she had to get water from a well and it was always cold. During the summer it was easier to go swimming in the river. During the winter, baths were reserved as a once a month thing, the collection and heating of the water taking a lot of effort.
With another giggle she took a deep breath and submerged, wanting to groan with the pleasure of having hot water soaking her hair. She resurfaced took another deep breath and went back under, planting her bottom on the stone lined floor. The water was hot enough to make her aching muscles relax but prevented her from opening her eyes. When she came back up, she gasped, blinking water and hair from her eyes. She looked to the side and found the shelves that lined the side of the pool, all sporting different color soaps and cloths for bathing. The stand behind the shelf was stacked with thick towels for drying.
Ella wanted to laugh and sing at the luxury surrounding her. She scrubbed her body with one soap, then another, sniffing the different fragrances. They were not the feminine scents of flowers and perfume, but they carried the scent of pine trees, cedar, mint, sandalwood and an assortment of other exotic scents that reminded one of a pampered male body.
The last scent, the one of oak and honey, reminded Ella of her home and the copse of trees that surrounded her village. All of that was now gone. The homes destroyed. The fields burned to ash. She sighed, now disgusted with herself as she cleaned her body, not only taking away the dirt of the field but the stain of Skeletor’s essence. She winced as she slipped her fingers between the soft lips of her womanhood, finding herself to be sore to the touch.
Well, it was to be expected. That was what she deserved, allowing such a man to take her in such a fashion. Though as she tried to find the right words to chastise herself, she couldn’t stop the wanton whimper that escaped when she traced the edges of her sex. It had felt so good and so…. so……She bit her lip as the memory surfaced. She had never felt such pleasure. Never had a man been so deep within her. Never had she felt such fire rage in her belly. And never had she experienced such a wet reception to male manipulation.
She cast those thoughts aside and lathered a heavy soap in her hair, scrubbing the auburn tresses and removing the dust, dander, and shed fibers that accumulate. She slipped under the water, working her fingers through the thick strands in an effort to allow the water complete access and wash away all traces of her former life. She was now a servant and if she treated her master with respect and honor, then she would be gifted with a warm bed, warm bath, and hot meals.
Ella resurfaced, her breath fast in recovery as she worked her fingers through her hair to eliminate the few tangles. After a couple of deep breaths she submerged herself, running her fingers from scalp to tips, finding little resistance as she coaxed the soap from her hair. When she resurfaced, gasping, her eyes opened and found the silent wraith that was her master standing at the water’s edge.
“Master!” Ella said, her arms covering her breasts and crossing her legs under the water in an effort to hide her nakedness.
“Do not hide yourself,” Skeletor commanded. He enjoyed the view. It was not one he was privy to often.
Ella was slow to lower her arms, revealing her small but firm breasts. She felt her nipples harden with the cool air and observation under her master’s gaze.
“Does my master need attendance?” Ella asked softly, feeling her stomach churn with the ease the words flowed from her lips. By the Elders, what was wrong with her?
“I have come to give you instructions,” Skeletor said, nodding toward the stairs to the bath.
Ella obeyed, rising from the water and standing as a dripping servant in front of her master, her head bowed. She felt a throb in her body as it registered his proximity and craved more of his intimate touch.
“You are to spend the day straightening this room until it meets my standards,” Skeletor said, his sight fixed on her breasts and traveling over her flat stomach to the auburn hair below. He felt himself stir at the thought but quickly suppressed it. Now was not the time to indulge in physical pleasure. He waved his hand, conjuring cleaning supplies.
Ella looked to the magical supplies then back to her master, bowing her head.
“I will endeavor to please you,’ she said, a knot forming in her gut at the double meaning behind her traitorous words.
“Your schedule will be thus,” Skeletor said, waving his hand and causing a hunter green gown to appear over her body, hiding her from his view. Though he rarely enjoyed the wiles of female company, she was proving to be quite the distraction. “You will rise, bathe, and attend to my needs. If I feel you have earned such favor you may accompany me beyond the doors. When in my attendance, you are to remain at my side, and never to voice your opinion or question my judgment.”
“I would never disrespect you in such a manner,” Ella said, and there was more than a little grain of truth to her words. Such comfort she was given and all it required was her silence and attendance. It was very little difference from her marriage with Jacel, though now she did not need to toil in a garden and skip meals to ensure a healthy store for winter.
“We’ll see how long you last,” Skeletor said with a sneer. “Most do not know their place and earn a quick trip to the dungeons.”
“My purpose is to serve and display proper respect to my Lord and Master,” Ella said, rising to meet his sightless expression. “I do not wish to disappoint or dishonor.”
Her words caused another stirring in the usually reserved master. He shifted, uncomfortable with the strength of her words as she stared right into his soul and pledged such devotion. It was strange coming willingly from someone’s lips. Usually such proclamation had to be magically enforced, but this new slave was refreshing in her sincerity. He had to admit, such obedience was quite intoxicating and very stimulating. He growled, shaking his head to remove the lustful thoughts that had seeped into his brain and jerked his head toward the supplies as he walked toward the door. “I expect to find my quarters spotless when I return. See to it that I am not disappointed.”
“Yes Master,” Ella said with a bow of her head. When the door shut she opened her eyes and looked to the dress that was gifted to her. It was a dark, plain green with a squared collar that stopped at her collarbone. The fabric was soft and fell column style down her body. The hem swept against her ankles and small matching soft soled shoes adorned her feet. It was the nicest gown she had ever worn.
Ella grabbed the magical supplies and started to work, experimenting with the strange concoctions that were in glass bottles and shone like jewels. Wanting to start on one end and work her way around, Ella went to the bed with a deep cherry liquid in a bottle and a soft cloth in the other. She stared at the dual indentions on the bed, marking the place where she had lain with the most hated enemy in the kingdom. A part of her felt a dull pang of remorse but it was quickly squashed by the gentle rustle of soft fabric on her skin as she set to work. After the first couple of swipes of the cloth, her face lit up in pleasant surprise.
She had expected to spend the day scrubbing vigorously to appease her new master, but upon using the magical items he provided, she realized her hard work would be unnecessary. Each swipe removed dust, cobwebs and dead insects and gave the wood a high polished shine that did not require backbreaking work to achieve. She traced every carving, every indentation, removing years of neglect. The natural beauty of the wood shone through, prompting her to give it two coats of attention. When she had finished she stepped back to admire her work.
The bed shone as if brand new and worthy of a King. The four large columns were of a rich wood, their thickness reminiscent of their past lives in the forest. The head and footboards were intricately adorned with swirling designs, elegant starbursts, and intertwined serpents. It resembled a ritual for dark magic, and given the surroundings, it was a fair assumption.
The door opened, causing Ella to jump. She whirled, an apology on her lips for her lack of progress to the rest of the room, when a chambermaid, approaching her midlife years, entered with a silver platter. She placed it on the oblong table, giving Ella a sadden look.
“The master orders you to eat,” she said in an ancient voice that belonged to one of double or even triple the years. “He will return after the raid.”
Ella nodded in understanding as the woman left, the door closing behind her. She lifted the lid and found a rich stew that caused her stomach to growl in answer. Not wanting to disobey her orders, and feeling famished, Ella ate the stew with gusto, finishing it off in record time. When she was finished she turned her cleaning gaze upon the table that sported her meal. There was dust heavy upon its legs and on the only chair at the head of the table. The surface was scratched and battered and lacked proper shine. Ella grabbed her enchanted bottle and set to work, ensuring that when her master returned, he would be seated at a table that was fit for a king.
When the chambermaid reappeared to collect the dishes of Ella’s meal, her face twisted in surprise when she found the girl on hands and knees beneath the table, pulling away ancient cobwebs. The top of the table and sides had been polished to a lustrous shine, the pitted surface reforming its smooth texture and sealing its surface against further injury with the enchanted polish. One finely carved leg was shining like the maker’s passion and devotion that went in creating the furniture masterpiece. The chambermaid left with a soft smile, knowing the young woman was performing a task that no other had taken upon themselves to perform. Very few had been granted permission inside the master’s chambers and even less had shown such care and devotion to a task well done.
As Ella worked to clean the centuries of grime and filth from the table, Skeletor was busy raiding a village on the other side of the planet, far removed from King Randor and He-Man’s interference. The village was on the other side of the country where Skeletor had found his latest servant and he hoped for another stroke of luck. But fate was not kind to him this day.
The women were just as vicious of fighters as the men, and stormed toward the soldiers of Snake Mountain with a warrior’s vengeance. It took Skeletor half an hour to realize the campaign was futile and he would be wise to collect his forces. When he had sent bolts of purple lightning into the crowds, sending them to the Elders in a raging inferno, he opened several portals, allowing his troops escape. When they exited, everyone gathered their wits, many sporting wounds, though there were none that were immediately life threatening. The handful of soldiers that were fatally injured were left behind to be dealt with by the villagers. If the villagers were kind and saw fit to heal the injured before exacting restitution, they were to be disappointed as the soldiers were sapped of life by their binding spell to their lord and master.
Skeletor stalked in front of his soldiers, his most vicious stationed at the head of the formation. Trap Jaw and Beast Man were covered in blood not their own and Beast Man clutched a young maiden in his clawed hands. She had fallen with a faint when the man beast had captured her and now hung limp his grasp.
“Beast Man, you know the rules,” Skeletor chided, noting the pale blonde hair that crowned the young girl’s head. “You are not to bring strangers with you through the portals.”
“But she smells so nice,” Beast Man said, pulling the lax girl against him, tangling his hand in her platinum locks and jerking her head back to allow his inspection of her neck. “She smells so nice and fresh and young.”
Skeletor gave his head a little shake, guessing the girl to be in her early teens at the latest. He may be the most wretched and vile man to ever grace Eternia, but even Skeletor had standards, hence why he never took a lover without permission. He was cruel and power hungry, but he still had morals, however limited they were. He watched the beastly man sniff the girl’s neck and lick the pale skin, one arm snaking around her waist to keep her pinned to his chest, the other going to her developing breasts and giving them hard squeezes that looked more painful than pleasurable.
“Release her untouched or you will regret it,” Skeletor commanded.
Beast Man looked angry then disappointed and dropped the girl into a heap at his feet without care to how she landed. There was a soft crack as a bone had shattered under her awkward weight. The hand that had been rubbing her breasts went to his groin, tracing the prominent erection in an attempt to ease his sexual suffering.
Evil-Lyn noticed the man’s actions and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and giving Skeletor an annoyed look. She may have a select taste for the female form but she never considered taking such a young lover. As soon as they hit their majority though, Evil-Lyn had no trouble in bedding them and soiling their bodies along with their reputations. But to take one when they were barely in their adulthood? There were standards so low, even Evil-Lyn felt sickened.
“Orders, my Lord?” a man asked, stepping forward. His uniform was streaked with blood, his weapons stained with life.
“We find somewhere else that has value,” Skeletor said, opening another collection of portals and sending his men to a small village a hundred kilometers away.
Skeletor and his men were greeted with shocked words and very little resistance. Much to Skeletor’s dismay there was nary a young body within the village, most having been ravaged by a fever the year before. Those who had survived were still in poor physical condition and offered no form of service to the warlord. Feeling his temper rise, Skeletor ordered his men back to Snake Mountain, opening portals that would expel them at the fortress.
Skeletor and his most loyal, a loose term given to those of higher rank, appeared in the throne room, Skeletor sending his staff to its rightful place in display. He stalked to the polished table, the very one he had taken Ella against the day before, and leaned on its surface, his hands clutching the biting edge.
“I tire of these useless raids,” Skeletor said after a moment of silence.
Beast Man, Evil-Lyn, Trap Jaw, and Tri-Klops arranged themselves on the opposite side of their master. They shuffled but did not offer voice to thought. They were afraid Skeletor’s temper would be bad and they did not want to provoke his already unstable temperament.
“Two days from now we will hold a meeting,” Skeletor said, pushing himself upright from the table and glaring at his henchmen. “During which time each of you will present me with an alternative to gather supplies or to overthrow King Randor.”
The four gave awkward bows, the three males taking their leave. Skeletor spun and marched the couple of steps to his throne, where he seated himself, lost in thought. Evil-Lyn remained her expression dark as she gazed as Skeletor’s body. He must have felt her gaze for he gave a start, his fists forming for a second before releasing them to grip the armrests of his throne.
“You have something you wish to say, Evil-Lyn?” he asked, wondering what the witch was up to.
“There is something new about your aura,” the witch said, her eyes raking over his masculine build. “Something I have never noticed before.”
“You dare scrutinize me, witch?” Skeletor asked, feeling his blood boil at the woman’s audacity. Many a time, Evil-Lyn had questioned his motives, his power, his plans, and no matter how many times he sent her screaming to the dungeons with the Whip Master, she never learned. Her stubbornness was another reason for his foul mood.
“It is something about you, Lord Skeletor,” Evil-Lyn said, her eyes still raking over his form. “There is something different about you. Your aura seems… stronger, somehow.”
“My aura has always been strong,” Skeletor said, puffing with a superior air. “There is nothing different about me. You must have been blind before and had not realized my might.”
“Any sorceress can sense your might, Lord Skeletor,” Evil-Lyn simpered, though careful not to use words that would get her bedded. Skeletor’s ego was sometimes attached to his anatomy and she had enough of his wiles to last her a lifetime.
“True,” Skeletor admitted with a pompous air.
“Perhaps you are right and I have missed it,” Evil-Lyn said, taking the blame herself unless she earn his ire.
“If you are so blinded, perhaps you should refrain from using magic,” Skeletor sneered, hoping to provoke the witch into retaliation. He would love to send her back to the Whip Master and hear her screaming her colorful epitaphs. She had quite the extensive knowledge of language and assorted curses. Skeletor had to write a couple of them down.
“I will have no problem in assembling a few plans for your next meeting,” Evil-Lyn said with a hitch in her voice. How dare the bone head question her abilities! Had she not proven herself many times over?
“I dare say that you have more than enough stock of innocent blood to perform your spells?” Skeletor asked in that mocking tone he was infamous for.
“Not as much as I would have liked,” Evil-Lyn groused, her demeanor turning dark. “The older sister was not untouched.”
“She offered you some pleasure, I wager,” Skeletor cackled, knowing Evil-Lyn earned her moniker at times.
“I forced both to watch as I ruined them, one at a time,” Evil-Lyn sneered, her purple eyes flashing in that way that meant she had done her worst many times over.
“Will you have enough blood to perform your spells if they so require?” Skeletor asked.
“They are of the same blood line,” Evil-Lyn said slowly. “I may be able to mix their blood. If so, it won’t matter if one is untouched. But I depends on the spell and what I can come up with.”
“Don’t disappoint me,” Skeletor growled in warning.
Evil-Lyn offered a curt nod and took her leave; her cape swishing through the air in her anger.
Skeletor skulked on his throne for an hour before he noted the sun setting low on the horizon. He gave a sigh of annoyance, rising from his throne and stalking down the sweeping staircase to his personal quarters. The doors opened without sound, as usual and when he stepped into the room he halted. The bed was shining as brand new, with the covers pulled taut and tucked in the edges. The magical symbol of the realm was polished so it shone as gold upon the headboard, its intricate carvings poised in watchful peace to those who slept below.
The table at which he normally sat to dine was free of all cobwebs and dust. The top was smooth and polished, looking like a gilded mirror. There were no more flaws upon its glassy surface. The nicks, cuts and dings of centuries of abuse had been erased by the magical potion. The grand chair at the head of the table that resembled a throne was also polished; the thick cushion upon its face was plump and plush, a wonderful addition caused by the resurfacing potion. The frayed edges were sealed, the moth eaten holes patched by magic and the tireless hands of a woman determined to do a good job.
The bed and table had never looked so good, even when Hordak left the ancient fortress to take up residence elsewhere. Skeletor had tried many a cleaning maids, but none had bothered in the way of keeping house. Though he was considered a vile man, he did like his comfort. He was of royal blood after all. He had grown tiresome of the cobwebs, dust, and disrepair of his home. When he had conjured the magical ingredients for his new slave he had expected to find a partial job as what had greeted him so many times in the past. What he found both surprised and elated him. When his gaze traveled around the room it was to find Ella standing on the bottom shelf of his book case. The bottom rows had already been devoid of dust, the tomes looking a little brighter despite their age. Ella was holding onto a shelf near her waist with one hand while the other swatted at a shelf barely within her reach. She grunted and hissed, swinging the cleaning rag up and slapping several of the tomes before she withdrew her cleaning weapon and swatted again, trying to hit a spot that somehow managed to avoid her attention.
“You will get clean or I will climb up there and beat the dust off of you!” Ella growled, swatting with the rag and hitting the dusty area of her intention.
“Such words coming from my servant,” Skeletor chastised, though he was more amused than angry. It seemed funny hearing such things coming from the meek woman who pledged her life to him.
Ella gave a squeak, her hand slipping from the bookcase. She toppled backward, landing on her rearend with an undignified curse that Jacel certainly would have not approved of. To her amazement, Skeletor didn’t reprimand her. In fact, he down right laughed. She winced as she gained her feet and turned, bowing her head to her Lord.
“Apologies, My Lord,” she said, hoping not to feel his hand strike her down.
“Fret not,” Skeletor said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He liked some sass in a woman. Made them more interesting. “You have been busy.”
“I am sorry I have not made further progress,” Ella said, hoping to appease her Lord so he wouldn’t reprimand her. She had heard of his terrible temper and didn’t wish a first hand demonstration.
“You have already surpassed my expectation,” Skeletor commented, looking around to the cleaned portions of his quarters. A part of him wondered where the woman began, his gaze drifting to the bed and the fun things that it could support. He shook his head to rid those thoughts. Now was not the time to be entertaining carnal pleasures. He had a few spells he needed to look up, and only the most potent and powerful tomes were in the library of his quarters. He went to the bookcase and gave a casual flick. Four books removed themselves from the shelves and lowered to his hands.
Ella held out her arms to take the burden but Skeletor stepped around her, heading to the immaculate table. He lay the books down with careful ease and waved his hand, commanding them to open. Their pages flew open, the unseen force leaping through the multiple spells until they landed on the one of interest.
Ella stood behind his chair, her hands clasp behind her back awaiting further instruction. When Skeletor noticed her attendance, he jerked his head toward the bookcase.
“I do not require your assistance to read,” Skeletor said, feeling a touch annoyed.
“You’re education far exceeds my own and these words are foreign to me,” Ella said, looking over his shoulder at the strange symbols.
Skeletor turned to offer a caustic bite but held his proverbial tongue. Ella’s face was enraptured by the spell book, her eyes darting over the lines of text, though there was no comprehension. He had a feeling if she could understand the spells, she would be abhorred. Wanting some entertainment, he decided to play with the woman’s emotions.
“This is a spell that causes one to sleep a thousand years,” Skeletor said, pointing to the complicated spell that he had never performed. “And it requires the blood of a child to perform it.”
“The purer the blood, the better the spell will work, correct?” Ella asked, looking to his sightless face, her expression curious and not the revolted look he was hoping to witness.
Skeletor almost dropped his jaw on the floor. He wanted to turn her stomach and then taunt her for her weakness, but she didn’t seem opposed to what he suggested. That was… intriguing.
“This does not frighten you?” he asked, glad he couldn’t show facial expression. He’d be mortified at the look on his shocked face.
“All magic frightens me,” Ella admitted. “But only those who are possessed of great power and knowledge know of spell work and may use such forces. I have no place to judge nor criticize those who practice in such arts.”
Skeletor’s estimation of the woman went up considerably.
There was a soft knock at the door that interrupted anything Skeletor was going to say. He was silently glad of the company. He almost told the new slave how high she soared in his estimation. That wasn’t a good idea. No slave should have that much praise, lest they allow themselves to become too inflated and outshine their master. Skeletor couldn’t have that.
“Enter!” he called.
The door opened to admit the older woman that delivered food. Behind her, a thin, mousy blonde girl followed behind, carrying a dish. Both women gave awkward bows before entry and placed the dishes on the table, mindful of the spellbooks. The blonde caught Ella’s eye, both recognizing each other from the same village, though names were lost from memory. The two cooks left and shut the door behind them.
Skeletor waved his hand and sent the books to his desk while Ella made him a plate. He watched her in fascination as she ladled food, placed it in front of him, put a cloth across his lap, then returned to her station behind his right side. Her hands were clasp behind her back, her posture straight. A slave had never been so formal before. It reminded him of the court when he was a child.
“There is enough for the both of us,” he said, snapping his fingers and making another chair appear at the far end of the table. “You have worked hard and have earned a good meal.”
“Thank you, Sire,” she said with a bow, making a small plate for herself before going to her place and pulling out the plain looking straight legged chair. She sat down with the grace of a lady, picked up her silverware and ate in slow, measured bites.
Skeletor watched the woman with interest. She did not appear to have breeding and high standing, yet she certainly composed herself like a noble of high birth. After several moments of observation, Skeletor broke the silence.
“Have you had training for the courts?” he asked, intrigued by the way she presented herself. Her rigid posture, slow eating and carefully controlled movements were out of place with the plain gown that sported stains and cobwebs from her cleaning detail.
“No, my lord,” she answered after she had swallowed.
“You act as one of noble birth,’ Skeletor commented, having witnessed such things when he was in attendance at royal functions. Being the brother of the future king, he had to learn all the aspects of the court, in case something would happen to his brother.
“I wish to present a pleasant atmosphere and not appear as a pig at the trough,” Ella said, a faint smile pulling at her thin lips.
Skeletor offered a chuckle and resumed eating. When they were finished, Ella rose and cleared the table, stacking the dishes onto the tray. Skeletor waved his hands and made the spell books return to him, his gaze falling over the ancient pages. He barely scanned the first line when Ella interrupted.
“Master, I beg your forgiveness but I have run out of the cleaning potion,” Ella said with a bow of her head. “If I had more, I could polish your desk and you would not have to use this table.”
Skeletor thought about reprimanded the slave for interrupting him, but a part of him chastised that she was doing as commanded. And it would be nice to use his desk again without having the clogging dust rolling around like ghosts disturbing their rest. With a snap of his fingers the yellow bottle refilled itself.
Ella bowed low, grabbing the bottle and cloth and went to his desk. He heard her behind him at the heavy furniture that had been there since he could remember. The little sloshes of the liquid in the bottle, the soft swishes of the cloth across the wooden surface were the sounds of work in progress. Something that wasn’t heard as often as he would have liked.
Ella’s breath became labored as she worked the polish into a particularly stubborn spot that wanted to remain. Skeletor had to concentrate when he heard little pants and looked over his shoulder to see her on hands and knees under the table. Her bottom was wiggling in an enticing way that made him shiver, his body slow to rise in remembrance of the previous night.
With great reluctance he quelled his body, watching as the woman continued to struggle under the desk. He pulled his gaze away from her body and took in the smooth surface of the desk that glittered like obsidian, the scrolls arranged in a neat pile on the left. One leg had been freed of clinging cobwebs and a century’s worth of thick dust. She gave another grunting noise as she struggled with something poised above her head on the underside of the desk.
Just as Skeletor was about to turn around and distract his thoughts from the luscious body making such delicious noises that were being detected by his groin, he heard her voice call out.
“Master!” Ella cried out, wedged under the desk. Her fingers were working a complicated latch that secured, what she realized, was a book to the underside of the table.
Skeletor rose, feeling his ire lift with his legs as he stalked to the desk. Ella’s back side was sticking out as she knelt on the floor in front of the desk. A part of him thickened at the thought of teaching her lesson about interrupting his studies but his musings were cut short when she called out again.
“Master! I have found something but I can’t remove it!” Ella called, not sure where her master was standing. She squeaked when he joined her under the desk, his larger bulk causing her to recoil.
“What have you found?” Skeletor asked, his annoyance disappearing when he realized that she was indeed struggling against an immovable object. There was a book secured to the underside of the desk, the magical latch refusing her mortal attempts at entry. A pile of insect corpses wrapped in century’s worth of aged webbing that had come free and fell to the floor as their anchor was broken.
What could possibly be so important as to secure it under a desk? Why had it not been found sooner? How had he not noticed it before? Well, no other servant had shown such gumption to clean before and he doubted any of his previous chambermaids would have been crawling on hands and knees to clean under a desk. Most had barely swiped the surfaces and left the rest to dusty disrepair.
It took some effort but after a couple of minutes and a magical command, the enchanted latch came free, allowing the book to drop into Skeletor’s hand. He stood, laying the book on the pristine desk and stared at its bound cover. There were dead insects still clinging to the freed cobwebs along the side but Skeletor brushed them away, his gaze transfixed by the book.
It was a little larger than normal spell books, bound in ancient leather with gold embossed symbols on its cover. The binding was made of leather straps that were brittle with aged dry rot. The symbols shone as newly minted gold, a strange script adoring their edges.
“It’s beautiful,” Ella whispered, staring at the ancient tome with awe and respect. She felt her hair stand up on end from the magical properties hidden within the book.
“It is,” Skeletor admitted, staring at the book as if it would evaporate if he tried to touch it.
“It is a spell book,” Ella said unnecessarily. “I can feel the magic running through my body. It is a most strange feeling.”
“The enchantment that secured it must have hidden its power,” Skeletor said. He too could feel the power emanating from the book. And it was making him heady with its sweet promises.
Skeletor lifted the cover, revealing the ancient script within. Both stared at the page for a minute before Ella spoke.
“What language is that? I have not seen it before, even in spell books,” she said, the symbols dancing in front of her eyes.
“It is a book of ancients,” Skeletor said with awe and reverence in his voice. “The first who dwelled on Eternia were believed to have possessed great power and left behind small insights to allow their children the ability to achieve great things.”
“Those who possess magic are blessed by the Elders,” Ella said, knowing Skeletor’s powers were widely known.
“I am unable to read it,” Skeletor admitted. He held his hand over the book, chanting under his breath. When he looked back to the page, it remained as confusing as ever. He offered a noise of protest and performed a complicated enchantment, causing the book to vibrate, the pages glowing gold. His body trembled with the vehemence behind his spoken word.
“Master?” Ella asked, her hand going to his back in fear and awe of the powerful book now humming on the desk.
Usually Skeletor would have admonished a slave for touching him, but the feel of her small shaky hand on his back made him feel protective. She was seeking his strength in her fear. She was using him as an anchor when her body and instincts were telling her to flee. But she ignored such things and stuck by her master’s side, using him for a reservoir of strength. His hand passed over the pages as his incantation ended.
“I have cast a translation spell upon the pages,” Skeletor said, wishing she’d press more of her body against him. The power coming from the book was making him feel most unlike himself. “When the pages have been translated, I will have one of the most sought after treasures in all Eternia.” He looked to Ella and added, “I will have spells that have been long forgotten.”
“And may help you in achieving your goal,” Ella said, her face splitting into a smile.
Skeletor grasped the young woman, pulling her against him. He felt her shudder in answer, knowing she could feel his erection against her stomach as he held her tight against him.
“You should be rewarded for your excellent work,” Skeletor said huskily. He could feel Ella’s heart beat double time against his own ribs.
“If you so wish it,” Ella whispered, feeling a tightening in her lower belly. She was still sore from yesterday but she could not deny her master when he was so adamant in his arousal.
Without warning Skeletor picked her up, and carried her to the bed. He sat her down at it’s edge and with a snap of his fingers, her gown disappeared, revealing her thin nakedness beneath. Ella tried to cover herself but Skeletor wouldn’t have it. He grasped her wrists gently and pulled them from her to allow her body full display to his hungry gaze. When she made no move to reattempt coverage he released her wrists and placed his hands on her small breasts, rubbing a circle against her ribs and feeling her nipples harden into his touch. It took nothing to remove his own clothes, his erection standing at full attention for its mistress. Ella’s eyes went down, her breath catching in her throat.
It was one thing to be taken from behind and just experience the pleasure. It was something else to see the object that brought such pleasure up close and personal. Not to mention, it was attached to a face that most would cringe and cry and try to escape.
Skeletor pushed her back onto the bed, easing her down onto the soft covers and lying down beside of her. One hand went to her breast, playing with the now hard mound and pinching the nipple between his fingers. He wished he possessed lips. He would have loved to have worshiped them. That was the main thing he missed about having a face. He lacked lips and tongue and the ability to please a woman in that aspect. Thankfully he was endowed with other attributes. And it was currently rubbing against her hip, the tip weeping for release.
Careful of the smaller form he parted her legs and situated himself between them, pressing himself against her entrance. The slick heat that greeted him told him she was already ready for his presence. He looked into her face and watched as she closed her eyes and captured her bottom lip between her teeth. He had noticed that when he had her bent over the table. He wondered if it was from pent up pleasure, pain, or the unknown reasoning behind wanting to remain as silent as possible during the act. Whatever the reason he found it alluring and wished he could capture her lip for her and take her cries of pleasure.
He balanced on his arms, one hand going to her face and tracing her top lip. She opened her eyes to stare into his and he could have sworn her eyes were black with lust as he pressed himself forward.
Ella felt him slip between her wet folds and closed her eyes, wanting to let her mind drift and just experience the pleasure and not have to look at the man giving her the experience. But Skeletor’s voice changed her mind.
“Look at me,” he said in a soft tone, feeling her tremble beneath him as he halted his advance.
Ella’s eyes were glittering as darkness, her mouth falling open as she panted, staring up into Skeletor’s face. She kept eye contact as he continued forward, burying himself in slow motion. When he was fully seated she couldn’t stand it anymore and closed her eyes, grasping the blankets and arching her back. By the Elders, he felt even better from this angle!
She felt his withdraw, the wet sound going straight into her belly and pooling in that delicious place that he could stroke. When he pushed back in she couldn’t stop the mewl that escaped, her hands abandoning their desperate attempt to twist the blankets. She latched onto his body, her hands pressing against his back and feeling the muscles ripple with every move.
“Elders, you are so tight,” he breathed, giving a fast flex of his hips and grinding deep in her body. It had the desired affect. Her inner walls gave clenches of welcome, pulling him further inside and offering their intimate kiss.
Ella cried out as that place was touched deep inside. Her legs locked around his waist, her hands going to his lower back and pressing him, silently begging him to remain where he was. With a gasping cry she arched her back, feeling her body explode with heat as stars burst in front of her vision. Skeletor was speaking but she didn’t have the coherency to understand his words.
Skeletor ground his teeth as he felt the heat envelope his body. He could have sworn she was a supernova, burning him into pleasure and he didn’t care if she consumed him. He grasped her hip, jerking her against him to meet his thrusts. He alternated between shallow and stirring her core, then a fast, hard thrust that filled the room with wet sounds and their ragged breathing. When he felt her tighten a second and then a third time, he thickened at the thought of bringing her such pleasure. Evil-Lyn had never reacted to his presence in such a way before.
If she had… perhaps he would have bed her more often?
His thoughts were erased when Ella surged against him, her legs squeezing his waist, her back rippling as the surface of a pond when broken by a pebble. Her voice was one long drawn gasping keen as her body was pushed over the edge again. The vice like hold of her body, the heat, the sounds, and by the Elders, with a roar, Skeletor met his peak with a receptive, clenching body. He ground his hips, allowing the pull of her inner walls to milk him for every drop, his seed going deep and igniting that place in her body that made her tremble and unable to walk. He fell lax on top of her, mindful not to crush her, and felt her heaving chest press against his own in a delightful way that caused him to surge another offering within her body.
Ella took him without complaint, her vision swimming and the little stars burned into her vision. Her hands stroked along the well muscled body, feeling him twitch inside her as he was slow to expel his essence, her body still greedy in its hunger. She felt his heavy breath against her neck, his body slicked with perspiration.
It took several moments for the two to part. Skeletor rose up on his arms, looking down at the servant who accepted him so readily. He gave her hip an intimate caress as he stared into her half lidded eyes. She gave a soft moan, her arms falling from his side and landing on the bed beneath. Her eyes fluttered closed as she slipped into sleep. Skeletor waited just a moment longer, savoring the shelter she offered him and with deliberate ease, withdrew from her body. He lay down beside of her and smiled to himself when she curled against his side, her arm snaking around his waist. With a snap of his fingers the room went dark and a blanket settled over the sated lovers, keeping their sex dampened bodies safe from chill. With a contented sigh, the lord of Snake Mountain fell into a dreamless sleep, and all the while the magical book hummed in defiance of the translation spell.
OOOOO-00000-IIIIIII-OOOOOOO-0000-IIIIII-00000-OOOOOOO
Let me know what you think! Thoughts and con-crit are welcomed.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Backfire