EXTRACT FOR
Ivan Whore
(Author Unknown)

      "So you want to ransom the Saracen bitch, eh?" Sir Godfrey's sneering question dripped with tangible sarcasm.

      Sir Wilfred nodded, his sweat moistened face grim with anger. His eyes burned from the fiery, desert noonday sun. Behind them could be heard anguished screams as the other Moslem captives were being systematically butchered.

      Wilfred's voice rasped from lack of wine and recent vomit. "Aye my lord. Her and the three youngsters you see before you. It's all I could afford. If I were as rich as Midas I'd ransom the bloody lot. There's no honor in this slaughter."

      Wilfred threw down a pouch that jingled with several coins. Sir Godfrey asked with a voice that now actually yawned with boredom. "How much?"

      Wilfred was having trouble controlling his rage. He hissed, "Ten silver marks, my lord!"

      "Hide those filthy infidels in your tent till after dark. I have some letters I need brought back to Constantinople in any case and you might as well be the courier. You can bring your newfound servants with you. They'll bring a good price in the big city." Sir Godfrey glanced at the young woman who was shivering in obvious fright beside the knight. "I can see why you rescued her from the doomed lot. She's a looker all right. Well why not? Just keep them out of sight! Now get you gone!"

      Gort was Wilfred's long trusted servant. The strong blacksmith quickly assisted his master by dragging the three children along while Wilfred took the woman's arm and forcibly pulled her to his tent. Tears were gushing from her dark eyes. Deep sobs made her shudder as she was compelled to walk away from her lovely home city. Acre now lay in smoldering ruins. They all could hear the continuing sound of priests chanting, soldiers laughing and cursing and the victim's lives being ripped apart with each cry or scream testifying to some new barbaric outrage.

      The rich had been ransomed of course and some of the prime males kept to be sold as slaves later. The rest were disemboweled for supposed hidden treasure or burned at stakes for heresy. The lucky ones simply had their throats cut. Over two thousand innocent civilians were cut off that day in 1193 by the soldiers of the cross. King Richard lay sick in his bed at the end of the siege. It was his only major victory in the holy land and he was too sick to enjoy it. Perhaps his sense of honor couldn't have permitted him to enjoy the festivities in any case.

      Gort carefully tied up the ransomed captives more for their protection than for fear of escape. Wilfred packed the mules and his war horse and tried to ignore the horrific noise in the background. He'd killed men in battle and he considered himself to be a hard man but this was beyond the pail. His vows as a knight rebelled at the destruction of helpless women and children. He wouldn't have killed a soul of them had the Lion Heart himself ordered it. However, he was but one man and his rage had to remain silent, pent up like volcanic magma. 

      He mumbled under his breath, "Godfrey and the others can collectively fuck themselves. God do to me and more also if I ever come back to this hell hole."

      Shortly after sundown, DeMontford's servant delivered sealed letters to Wilfred, for delivery to a very high-ranking official in the great city that guarded the Dardanelles. 	Constantinople was the glorious entrance to the East. Trade routes went for hundreds of miles through rugged mountain passes and empty deserts just to facilitate the delivery of rare spices, silk, and many other strange wonders from mysterious Cathay. It was to this city that Wilfred of Ivanhoe departed the dismal camp that somber evening.

      He gagged his charges to make sure they didn't make any noise and he held his letters close in case the guards asked too many questions. But the revelry was in full force. Nary a guard was seen as they undoubtedly were busy raping the last female survivors. They headed North and Westerly. Wilfred knew enough about the stars by now to find his way in this dry, blank landscape. Yet the journey proved to be difficult and tedious with only limited food and water available for the six of them.

      

***

      

      When they eventually got to Constantinople he sold the three children to a well-to-do merchant who assured him they would be treated decently. The plump, richly dressed merchant was appalled to hear of the cruel treatment of the other less unfortunate survivors of the recent siege. 

      Wilfred remarked with bitterness, "It was the greatest of Richard's victories. May God spare us any more like it!"

      He delivered the letters to a clerk who worked for the high ranking official and left. Let the bastards find their own courier back to the so-called soldiers of the cross. He and Gort and the lovely Saracen girl took ship for Venice that same week. It proved to be a merchantman, but in this time of war it was almost as well guarded as any Venetian war ship. Some of the proceeds from the sale of the children went far to obtain them a relatively comfortable sleeping place on the ship. However the close quarters lacked privacy.

      The entire time they were on the ship, Wilfred attempted to teach the woman more of his language and his slight knowledge of Arabic helped. The woman knew some words of Norman French and she was intelligent and learned quickly.

      He still had a tidy sum from the sale of the children and upon reaching Venice he arranged for passage to Marseilles within the week.

      One evening in a local tavern that overlooked the Grand Canal, he was unexpectedly summoned by the Doge. He ordered Gort to guard Zahra and their other possessions and followed the Venetian guide. It was a surprising request seeing as how Wilfred was only a knight and of a modest aristocratic family. Perhaps the stories he'd heard about Venetian spies were actually true.

      Wilfred was led to the opulent palace of Doge Enrique DanDolo. When he asked why he'd been sent for, his escort only replied, "His eminence has some questions for you."

      There were several men-at-arms in the audience chamber and the Doge was sitting in a high backed chair discussing important business with two men who were dressed in clerical robes. Then the Doge motioned for Wilfred to approach. They were able to communicate in Latin as Wilfred had some degree of education in those illiterate times.

      DanDolo was an old man beyond 80 summers. He was thin, hard and completely without humor. He had the look of a warrior and in fact he had been a commander of some note in his younger days.

      "I understand you are recent from the Holy land. Is that true, Sir Knight?"

      Wilfred answered, "It is true. I was ordered to leave to deliver letters of some import. I can tell you that the Knights Templar achieved a major victory. I believe it was at Acre my Lord Doge. We will soon be in Jerusalem to do homage to the holy sepulcher."

      The Doge crossed himself in the Eastern fashion. He then asked, "Are our supplies reaching your valiant fellow crusaders?"

      Wilfred nodded, "Yes but it takes a long time as you can imagine. We've had problems with raids on any caravan that tries to reach inland. The war goes to our favor but it is difficult."

      DanDolo gave him a knowing glance and the faintest trace of a smile, "So it does, so it does. Any war is difficult and it takes great courage to march into a strange land and fight with little more than faith. You and your servants are welcome here. Your name, Sir Knight?"

      "Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe. My father, Cedrick the Saxon, lives in a small castle in England."

      The Doge pursed his thin, dry lips. "I've not heard of him although I have heard of England and your Lion heart, who is the mighty scourge of the unbelieving enemies of Christ. Perhaps some day I will be able to lead a crusade against the infidel. What was Constantinople like, young man?"

      Wilfred noted that DanDolo's eyes seemed to lighten and sparkle when the city was mentioned. Those almost blind eyes were strange, as if they perceived in spite of their obvious disability.

      "Well my lord, it is a rich city. Temples to God Almighty are richly appointed with rare stones and gold a plenty. Slaves are bought and sold as numerous as cattle. Rare and wondrous objects and spices arrive or depart the place every day. It is a glorious city and I'm sure rivals the ancient glory that was Rome."

      DanDolo's voice became dryer, if that was possible. "Indeed? Rome now protects his Holiness Innocent, the third of that name. I understand he will soon be gathering the bishops and cardinals for a significant Lateran council. We are living in momentous times Sir Wilfred of Ivanhoe. We thank you for your information. You may leave us now." With that, Wilfred was shown out quite quickly by two surly looking guards. Apparently, they weren't all the fond of foreigners. 

      

***

      

      Because of the limitations of the tavern and the ship they'd been on, Wilfred hadn't yet enjoyed the obvious pleasures of Zahra. He could see that her breasts were large and well formed. Her complexion, although brown, was light and without blemish. Her legs were silky smooth and her hips wide apart. He didn't know her age but she was obviously young. She'd become more comfortable with him over the passing weeks as it became obvious he wasn't going to kill her or sell her off. She even was no longer afraid of Gort although the former blacksmith was immense in build and proportion. His arms were thick and well muscled and either of his huge hands could cover her head with one palm. He was intimidating with a black mustache and a prematurely bald head that was virtually devoid of any hair. He kept his beard shaved off so he had the appearance more of the Tartar than a rude Saxon. 

      Not that Ivanhoe was wimpy. His body was well muscled and to her, lovely. His hair was a rich honey brown with amber eyes and bright white teeth that made his smile so much more attractive when he did smile. His face was a bit long and his beard which he kept trimmed covered a small dimple as well as a nasty looking scar on his right cheek.

      Through careful communication, Ivanhoe was able to tell Zahra that she was now safe from the blood lusting Knights and she would be his body servant. She smiled at that description. Unknown to Ivanhoe, she'd been a favored concubine in the local ruler's harem. She knew all the arts and techniques of wanton pleasure systematically learned on the libidinous couches of the harem. As the days went by she ached more and more to be one with this surprisingly humane soldier.

      Her hair was lustrous, thick and richest black. Her eyes were so dark brown they looked black and her smile when it did occur was captivating.

      The evening before they were to depart Venice he arranged for Gort to stay downstairs in the tavern so he could be completely alone with his purchased woman. Zahra knew exactly what he desired when she looked into his searching eyes. In her own mind she'd been surprised he'd waited so long to sample her enticing beauty. 

      He whispered into her small, soft ear, "I want you, Zahra."

      She quickly moved her arms around him and her reply was pleasant. "I desire you my new lord. I owe you my life so let my love reward you. "

      The lovely Arab wench quickly slipped off her robes revealing startling loveliness to him. Her breasts were indeed large with thick pink nipples that were already hard. She seductively swayed her belly and slowly moved her legs apart to show him her priceless treasure of joys. He sucked in his breath as he gazed at her pink slit that looked moist with the beginnings of the flow of lust. Desire fired his member and he pulled the brown nymph to him. The girl quickly undressed him before grabbing his manhood with her experienced fingers. Off came his duplet and britches. Off came his sword belt and boots. In the torchlight she could see he was hard and rigid and she knew he was going to possess every part of her. 

      The soft contact of her warm skin against his had the effect of a simmering caldron. They embraced, slipping fingers around, under and between, exploring each other with hurried urgency. Wilfred groped her curves and slid into her eager pussy gash. Then their lips met and all fears of rejection or retreat were banished and forgotten. Their tongues moved together like soft, slithering serpents. Their mouths explored each other. She was moaning now as he grasped her tits more firmly. When he finally broke his spit sharing kiss it was to suck her lovely nipples and devour her lush mounds of prime sensuality. 

      She whispered, "I will give you every pleasure my good lord. I am yours. Take the ripe fruit from your garden love."

      His mouth traveled to her soft, pliant belly and for a moment he licked her naval. She spread her legs wider apart and her hand was vigorously stroking his cock. She gasped, "Enter me! I burn! I need!"

      Still he held back and moved his mouth to her tangy clit and fuck hole. She moaned as her lusts were inflamed by his tender touch. "Oh my lord! Faster! Lick it faster!"

      Zahra squealed out louder as he expertly nipped her clit with his teeth. He quickly slid his tongue down into her eager cunt. He tasted her pungent, aromatic flesh as if it were the most expensive meal in Christendom. The slow, seeping flow of pussy juice trickled into his thirsty mouth while she rubbed and twisted on his invasive mouth. She sighed, "Yes lord yes! Drink me! Suck out my hot honey! Ohhhhh yessss!"

      He flicked his tongue up and down her clit and then he re-entered her pussy, circling inside her dripping slit. He loved that musky, female taste and pungent smell of this exotic, wanton slave. Zahra whimpered and moaned. It was obvious she was blazing with desire and she was frantically trying to move his cock to the right spot. Finally she gasped, "Fuck me master! Fuck me!"

      Slowly he entered her. Wilfred desired to savor every blessed inch of her tender, lush hole. His cock felt like it would burst from the flaming carnal contact of her aggressive reception. Pleasure lanced through his dick and into his belly as he slid in further and further. He could feel passion ripple through her as her pussy jerked and clamped onto his manhood. She was under him now. The former harem slut moved her legs back to rest on his shoulders, knowing exactly how to provide her new master with the highest quality pleasure from her zesty cunt. He plowed her harder and harder, desperate to fill Zahra with his creamy seed. He was kissing her smooth leg, her instep and finally sucking her toes while he fucked and fucked and fucked. God how good the silky witch felt squeezing his searching dick! He'd gone a long time without a woman and this lively infidel was superb. She lurched and writhed on his thrusting meat with reckless, unrestrained lust. She was no stranger to bed sport. His throbbing cock learned that sizzling truth very quickly. 

      When he finally spoke he cried out, "Fuck me you wanton wench! Harder! Oh yes! Oh, Zahra! Just fuck!"

      She answered by moving her cunt even more seductively. God could she turn and squeeze in so many naughty ways! Climax flashed through her like tempestuous waves on a storm torn beach. She hadn't expected this so fast. The brown skinned vixen was making love to this stranger in an alien city and yet, surprisingly it seemed right to her. For Zahra there was no longer a past. There was no future. There was just his blazing cock inside her right now. Zahra let herself go. She moved her warm legs around his back and locked her ankles together. She dug her heels into his backside and actually forced him to fuck her broiling cunt harder and deeper. The slave wench let him know that she wanted as much of him as she could possibly get, even though her mouth was now smothered by his lingering kiss, preventing any further spoken communication. 

      Her muffled sex cries and gasping screams grew louder and more insistent as the unbridled temptress approached yet another glorious burst of ecstasy. Her body demanded his most powerful efforts. Her desperate fingers tickled his slapping balls encouraging him to drive inside her squirming pussy-hole deeper, faster and much harder. Zahra was determined to prove that she needed every rigid inch of his drilling dick. Besides, she owed him her life and her cunt blazed and gushed with sensual gratitude. 

      "Fuck me master! Harder! Harder! Make Zahra yours!

      Again his kiss smothered her cries and words and all other cares and concerns were forgotten as they escaped into each other. All that mattered was the joining of flesh and the sharing of jolts of passion. Their senses were mingled as they felt each other's urges and cravings. Again she quaked with searing joy and still he was hard inside her. She was amazed and ecstatic that he was able to hold back so long. He not only wanted to take delight from her but give her rapture in return. Her cunt twitched and turned, milking that impaling pole of such inexpressible delights. 

      When she was finally permitted to breathe she said the magic words. "After you fuck me to your fill, you can squirt your love into my mouth! Would you like that?"

      Her next kiss reinforced what that mouth could do to his pounding prick. Her flicking tongue licked and darted and 	twisted. Then she sucked his tongue as if it were his impaling manhood. The itch in his balls and cock rose and engulfed him. He screamed into her spit, drooling mouth as he shot his sticky sap down and down and down into her welcoming body.

      The wanton girl slave flexed and squeezed and exerted her pussy to strain every drop out of him and still the erotic bitch artfully performed sensual magic on his spurting manhood. 

      Young Zahra ignited lust fire through his veins and excitement to his heart. "Oooooh, Master it's better the second time! Keep fucking me! Keep it hard! Yes master fuck me! Aaaahh, ah, ah, ah!"

      Each sharp slam brought cries out of her as her body plunged into another mind piercing orgasm. Her pussy creamed. She flowed with release, full and rich. At that blinding moment Zahra knew this man was meant for her. In spite of all that had happened to her and her people, she knew he was her protector. He'd saved her from a horrible death and now he was giving her joy, deep fulfilling bliss. He was giving her life! Her body welcomed his cock like a mother her child.

      For his part he was still ardent as life rekindled in his besotted staff. Her silky skin and fiery lips kept him blazing with desire for his new whore. He hissed, "More, you foxy wench!"

      Her reply thrilled him to the limit of his parched soul. "Again! Master! Again and again!"

      She'd waited weeks for this and her body now clamored for more of his penetration. His hands held her tits as if he were holding the handle of a footman's mace. He couldn't have let her go now for half of someone's kingdom. He was held fast in her snare of beauty, artful urges and sensational sex. Her skin burned to his lascivious touch. She felt like spongy butter where his dick drove into her time and time again. The warm delicious wet heat of her squishing love hole was so sublime. He kept filling and refilling her tingling slot until her body simply had to respond once more. She had no choice. She had to release her lust in another cataclysmic orgasm. 

      Their love play was a little slower this time, as each had unleashed their initial lust for each other. What was lost in sheer ferocity was made up for in the most sensual expressions and sounds as each tried to prove to the other that they were enslaved in mutual ecstasy.

      After many minutes of powerful rutting, Wilfred could feel himself reaching the next peek. He felt like his balls would burst as his tingling cock sought her deepest recesses. How he longed to fill her tender crack again. He felt her shuddering yet again from his loving invasion. The sultry bitch`s moans and soft shrieks kept telling him to go on and on, in and out, in and out. She was his garden to plant and sow and reap. She wanted him to gather her fertile furrows with his plowing member. He gave her life and she had to and wanted to show her complete appreciation. She needed to show her gratitude and her profound lust for her new lord and master.

      The wild Arabian enchantress finally screamed out her love for her knew lord as a sizzling climax ripped through her impaled cunt. "You own me master! Fuck me! Use my pussy every night! Fill me with your lust! Ooooo yes! Ahhhhh! Ooooooh!"

      She suddenly jerked her cunt wickedly on his cock head and he went into a frenzy of all out fucking. In seconds he went over the edge and for the second time that night he buried his pulsing rod inside the clenching sheath of her cum squishing cunt. His penis spurted time after time into her boiling crevice. She held him close and grasped his slowly limping member to thoroughly drain him. As his orgasm flowed into Zahra, it felt like her pussy was frantically milking all of his seed out of his balls and into her womb.

      At last, the Knight lay on top of her, gasping for breath. For long minutes he waited for his heart to slow down to a more normal rate. She was like strong drink and the pleasant taste of whore was on her lips as she kissed him tenderly on lips, cheeks and temples. She nibbled his ear lobe and her fingers gently tickled his balls or stroked his lifeless pole that looked now like a shriveled radish.

      When he finally spoke it was soft and quavering. "Never have I enjoyed a woman like I've just enjoyed you. I'll explore every part of you and learn all your depraved arts. We will save your fancy mouth tricks for another night. God woman, you could slay a man with your lust!"

      Zahra's next question was filled with a glowing smile in her sultry voice. "Do I please you, master?"

      He beamed down at her even as his hands groped her busty curves. "You please me well wench! You're worth every mark I paid and more."