Disclaimers: There is sex between women in this one.
The Judge closed the book, which was open on the desk in front of her. She moved Her fingers over its leathered cover and enjoyed the texture of it under Her fingertips. It reminded Her of the beast that had once lived. She picked up the volume in Her hand and returned it back to its place on the dusty shelf. Her eyes caught its title engraved with golden letters one last time, 'Dillius and Lady Emma's Diaries'.
She drew a long intake of the musty air that surrounded her and then blew out the candles illuminating the hall on Her way out back to Her chambers.
What had prompted that trip to the Lodge's library that evening was a remark that had been made by Lady Emma a while back, about how exquisite a lover Dillius, her former lover, had been.
All Her years presiding on the bench taught Her to be methodical, precise and well informed. True to who She was, the library was the natural place to visit.
All those words of love exchanged between Lady Emma and Dillius, which She had read, danced like wild ancient tribes in Her head. They sounded like war drums pounding in Her ears. But to Her, true bitter poison were the profound connection they've shared, the sacrifices they've made for one another, the way they've perfectly understood each other, the respect they had for one another -- All, the Judge witnessed, desired, deprived of and envied.
"You'll never have with me what I had with her," Emma had told Her on their very first night together. The Judge knew Emma had said it to spite Her, but now She knew no truer words had ever been spoken.
It was hard for Her to smite the humiliation She felt on account of the way Dillius and Emma's lust made Her feel -- not merely healthy familiar jealousy but their lust invoked lust in Her as well. That shame was too hard to swallow. She could almost relive the degradation She felt when Emma had told Her to get off her once they were done consummating their relationship, such as it were.
All summoned an old diabolical demon form the deep dark abyss within Her, whom She had met only once for what seemed like eons ago.
There is no point in mentioning the name, which was given to Her at birth. She couldn't even remember anyone calling Her by it, not even Her own mother and father. For soon after birth, soft little strands of hair, redder than blood, began growing on Her small baby's head. A few months later people found out that the peculiar infant was ambidextrous. ‘ A Devil's child' they began humming over Her crib.
By the age of four She taught Herself to read and write. While all the other little girls in the small village in which She grew up played with dolls, She played with a shinny sword She had found in the fields, mastering it effortlessly. She was more a boy than a girl, really, and the villagers never forgave Her for that. 'Queer, that one' they said, 'A freak' chanted others, 'Not of our elements' . Her reputation spread throughout the neighboring villages like gossip…And nothing spreads faster than gossip. She was named by all: ‘The Devil's Son'.
When She was fourteen, out watching the local ruler's army practicing one hot morning, a beautiful lass Her age caught Her eyes. Golden hair as if touched by the sun, crystal clear blue eyes and a heart melting smile. She was conquered that very moment. She approached the lass in an oafish kind of way and offered her lovesick heart. The lass, taken by her unnaturally tall suitor, accepted.
Oh and these were the happiest days of Her life, those warm afternoons in the barn unleashing her unquenched, clumsy, fumbling, impatient, adolescent desire upon Her lass's wanting body writhing under Her muscular boyish one. She had never known satisfaction in Her life before Her love.
Too foolish and naive to fathom people's callousness, She discarded discretion. One afternoon, as She entered the barn, She saw Her lass curled up in the corner, sobbing. Her white thighs were bare and bruised, her clothes torn and reeked of a man's spending.
Her world darkened at once, as if it was suddenly eclipsed. Silently She returned the lass to her parents and faced their accusing eyes. After numbingly embracing Her love, She took Her sword and went after Her lass's violator -- the ruler's son.
She found him strolling in the crowded village square.
The ruler's son saw Her approaching from afar. He anticipated a beating to be sure, but the Devil's Son unsheathed Her sword and with one accurate strike She stabbed his manhood. He dropped to his knees screaming, both his hands clutching the wounded member redundantly trying to stop the bleeding. She knelt on one knee down next to him. She caught him by his hair and with one powerful movement She motioned his torso backward, his back over Her knee, his throat stretched out before Her.
Just before She had slaughtered him, She could see his eyes widen with horror and astonishment. She knew he hadn't seen it coming. His blood spattered all over Her body and face, blending in with the shade of Her smooth tresses. She stood up, his lifeless body dropped to the blood soaked ground beneath them. She saw the villagers standing still, looking at her.
At first She believed they would make an attempt on Her life. But Her virtuous kind lass had been loved by all. They looked at Her in awe. No one other than Her had ever stood up to the ruler and his son.
The Devil's Son died that day. They crowned Her WarriorJudge. A 'judge' for she rendered justice and a 'warrior' for She so swiftly executed that day. They armed themselves and blindly followed Her into Battle against their ruler.
By dawn his castle was Hers, his lands Hers, his women Hers, his reign Hers.
As She watched the calm and lazy sun rising, caressing Her blood drenched body with gentle warm light, it was then that the truth of Her actions occurred to Her.
She didn't really exact justice that day. It wasn't the love for Her lass that drove Her, not even the restoration of her honor. Neither sense of righteousness nor an ounce of protectiveness guided Her sword. The shameful truth was that She had murdered him as a punishment for tampering with what was Hers.
As that disgraceful epiphany was dawning on Her, She decided never to see Her lass again for she deserved a much nobler unselfish love than the Judge could ever provide...
Lady Emma opened the massive wooden door to the Judge's chambers, cringing at the sound of its old rusty hinges. She had been looking for the robed Warrior for the better part of the evening. She slowly entered the Judge's huge, high ceiling courtroom. She could hear her own footsteps echoing in the vast hall.
The Lady looked up and saw the Judge sitting high up on Her bench, Her elbows resting on Her desk, Her strong chiseled chin resting on Her interlaced fingers, Her gaze facing downwards. The Justice appeared to be immersed deep within Her thoughts.
Great shiny metal scales were also placed on the desk along with two large candlesticks with burning fire in them on each side, which threw scales shaped shadow on the wall behind the Judge.
The Lady gazed at the burning candles and found it odd. She thought they ought to give more light than they actually gave. It seemed to her as though the Judge's presence was like a black hole, sucking the light around Her into oblivion.
"There you are! I've been looking all over for you. Where the hell have you been and what are you doing way up there you silly…"
Emma's voice was extinguished in her throat the moment the Judge lifted up Her face directing Her gaze at hers.
The murky Lord placed both Her palms against the desk, leaned against them and pushed Herself up, almost knocking the heavy wooden chair on which She sat backwards.
Emma didn't recognize what stood before her that night but she sensed it wasn't altogether human. She could physically feel the Judge's energy thumping deep within her very core like low mighty basses unheard by the naked ears. Her eyes were so caliginous like a raven's. Emma couldn't bring herself to look at them and so she fixated her gaze on the Judge's sculpted high cheekbones.
"I've been at the Lodge's library, in for a bit of reading," the Judge said, Her voice low, firm and omnipresent. Emma felt it surrounding her.
Emma's heart sank in her chest. So that's what this is about, the Lady thought. It was her past with Dillius that the Judge had delved Herself into earlier that day. She wanted to tell the Judge it wasn't Her business and that She had no right snooping and investigating into her private affairs, that it was not acceptable and that she simply wouldn't have it.
Instead she said, "It's all in the past. I'm with you now," and mindlessly touched the scales shaped medallion resting on her chest, which the Justice had given her.
"Really?" The Judge raised an eyebrow. Her long black robe covered Her body almost all the way down to Her leather boots. When She made Her way down to face the Lady, it seemed as if She was hovering down the stairs. "Prove it!" The Judge ordered as She descended.
"I have no intention of proving anything to You," Emma said defiantly.
"I strongly urge you to reconsider, Emma," the Judge said as she closed the gap between them, encroaching Emma's space. Emma began walking backwards. She knew how powerful the Judge was physically, she knew Her strides were wider than hers were and she sensed there was no stopping the tall Lord when Her mind was so addled.
"I have said my last words on the matter now get out of my way, I want to get out of here." Emma kept on walking backwards till something behind her halted her progress. Emma looked over her shoulder and saw a brick wall with a large window in the middle of it. There was nowhere to run. She was trapped.
"My crucial mistake was making it far too easy on you." The Judge held Emma in her place with nothing more than Her piercing stare as She undid Her pants. She unbuckled her leather belt from around her waist, folded it into two and strongly pulled both its ends, making the leather produce a noise that resembled a whiplash.
Emma winced at the sound but the Judge wasn't planning on using it. It simply won't do. The punishment must fit the crime She thought. "One cannot appreciate something without truly earning it." The Judge's pants dropped to her ankles exposing a large leathered phallus. With one hand The ominous Justice tore Emma's breeches and threw them onto the floor. She then ripped open the Lady's blouse and a few buttons scattered around.
Emma could see the Judge's chest heaving so slowly it almost made her want to gasp for air. The Judge scooped Emma up as if she was weightless and seated her on the ledge of the window behind her, positioning Herself between the Lady's legs. Emma could feel the cold glass pressing against her back. She wanted to push the Judge away but her body wouldn't cooperate.
They exchanged no words between them as the Judge parted Emma's labia and entered her with Her cold massive member.
She made the Lady feel as if she was nothing to Her but meat to burn out Her desire, a vessel to dump into all the raging emptiness Emma had made Her feel, giving Emma the same diminutive portioned attention she had given Her.
The Lady wanted her lover to look into her eyes, she wanted to feel her lover's wanting hands on her body, but the tall Judge fixated Her gaze above the smaller woman's head and stared into the darkness outside the window glass. The Judge reached up and gripped the metal bar above the window on which the curtains usually hung with her left hand, her right remained at the side of Her body and Her hips thrust slowly, rhythmically and emotionlessly forwards and backwards.
As the Lady was repeatedly penetrated and in such a mechanical manner, tears began streaming down her beautiful face. She realized she was grieving the absence of her love. She could barely stifle her whimpers, but the Judge made stone of her heart.
Emma placed a hesitant gentle hand on the Judge's face and caressed the beautiful features, as if to remind the Judge of her presence, as if to defrost Her, but the Judge denied her and kept at her, Her repeated insertions barren of warmth and feelings.
It was then that Emma took the Judge's right hand into her own two smaller ones. The Lady placed it on her chest above her heart " It's Yours, Judge," She said. Emma moved the Judge's hand on her heated flesh, "It's all yours, My Lord," she assured Her.
The Judge kept her grinding into Emma, still not looking at the blonde's wet face.
Emma moved the Judge's hand over her throat, over her shoulders, between her breasts and down over her muscled abdomen, constantly murmuring, "All yours, My Lord. No one else's. Feel what's Yours."
The Judge finally downed Her gaze and bore it into Emma's. Emma could see the dark orbs beginning to brighten back to the shimmering aqua green color she adored. Emma snaked her arm around the Judge's other hand, freeing it from its grip around the metal bar above her head. She placed both the Judge's hands over her breasts cupping them, molding the ample mounds, and gently pinching her hard nipples between the Judge's fingers. "These are Yours, sweet Lord." The Judge's hands began to explore Emma's writhing body on their own accord as She began thrusting into her need harder and faster with pure raw sexual desire.
Emma delved her fingers into the Judge's red tresses. She shifted her weight from the ledge, and leaned her body against the Judge's chest. She then crashed the Judge's lips with her own. With her tongue she trailed over the Judge's strong jaw grazing her wake with her teeth till she reached Her ear.
"I belong to no other, but You, My handsome Lord," she whispered.
These were the very words the Judge never believed She would ever hear spilling out of Emma's proud mouth.
She would take what was Hers.
The Justice secured one hand on Emma's ass possessively kneading the flesh, harshly marking her skin and leaned against the window with the other for support. Emma crossed her legs behind the Judge's clenching and unclenching buttocks. The Judge thought there wasn't another sensation on earth surpassing Emma's thighs so tightly around Her waist.
"Your cunt," Emma whispered as she relentlessly rode her lover as deeply as her body could withstand the pain. She was a true image of eroticism. She was keen on showing the Judge what passion was.
"More, My Lord!" She begged with urgency. "Don't deny me anything."
The Judge did as Her Lady asked of Her. She drove Herself into her the way She knew Emma liked best, their need unbearable, their arousal suffocating. They both shuddered, trembling forcefully, shaking uncontrollably over and over as their pleasure overtook them both, leaving them panting heavily covering the window glass with vapors, like fingerprints of their undeniable desire for one another.
The Judge's legs almost buckled under Her. She slowly pulled out of Her lover and landed them both gently and safely onto the floor utterly exhausted.
"You are an emotional rapist," Emma stated not able to resist the urge to slap the Judge with the last word.
The truth of Emma's words stung and the Judge felt remorseful over causing her pain. She realized She should have arrested the demon within Her by remembering that the past was nothing more than simply that, the past. Emma shouldn't have to be the one to pay for Her own shortcomings, shouldn't be the one to suffer Her darkness.
"I did what had to be done," the Judge replied. She considered the matter closed once and for all. Her bleak madness for the blonde Lady safely bottled back for now. "I'm yours too, My Lady."
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