Veronica's Erotica

Tasty Taboo & Raunchy Romance

The official website of Veronica Sloan, writer of dirty books. If you enjoy steamy stories, explicit affairs, and taboo tales, she's probably got something for you.

Olwen the Barbarian vs. The Sorceress of Sappho

This is a story I've wanted to write for a while. It features Olwen the Barbarian, a tough as nails alpha bitch that I introduced in the Monster Lovers collection last year. Working on the No Boys Allowed lesbian anthology with my fellow Bad Girls of Erotica is what gave me the inspiration to actually sit down at the keyboard and make it happen.

If you're familiar with Olwen's story ("No Orc's Whore"), you'll know that she has no qualms with using her sexuality to get what she wants. If the fearsome barbarian actually took the time to classify her preference, she might consider herself bi, but if you asked her if she ever loved someone, there's only one woman that can claim that honor...

SUMMARY: In a time before recorded history, in a land ravaged by war and witchcraft, her name strikes fear into the hearts of men. Olwen the Barbarian is a ruthless warrior who offers her sword to only the highest bidder. When the Prince of Darthia is kidnapped by the sorceress Callista, his father begs Olwen to retrieve him. Little does he know, Olwen is intimately familiar with the Sorceress of Sappho. Once upon a time, the two were the dearest of lovers. Now the fiercest of enemies, their reunion promises a legendary battle...or perhaps a rekindling of their sapphic romance?

Length: 21,480 Words

Tags: lesbian romance & erotica, femdom, domination and submission, some bondage

EXCERPT:


It took all of Olwen's limited strength to pull the wool blanket from her breast. A poultice had been applied to her wound. The sour smell made her wrinkle her nose but it was better than putrefaction. Though red and still angry, the skin was healthy. It would knit, and leave a scar she would carry all her life. The other scrapes and slashes over her arms and shoulders were minor by comparison, but also daubed in the same aromatic concoction.

Small hands pulled the blanket back to Olwen's chin. "Just lay still. You're beyond the worst of it but the less you move the better."

Olwen slapped the hands away. "If I could reach your neck I'd snap it in half, so either leave or kill me now."

The girl leaned down so that her dark hair tumbled over the barbarian's cheek. "That's a funny way to thank me. Is it common barbarian courtesy to murder one's savior?"

Olwen snatched the girl by the hair. "You are no midwife and I am no helpless babe."

The sorceress grimaced but did not resist. She allowed herself to be pulled down until their noses fairly touched. "But you were a helpless babe. Is there no room for gratitude in that black heart of yours?"

For what felt like the hundredth time in as many days, Olwen's strength failed her. The girl's hair slipped from her fingers and she fell back against the bundled wool that served as her pillow. 

"Oh," the sorceress murmured. "Are you in pain?"

"Why couldn't you kill me?" Olwen rasped. "I...I cannot live with this shame."

Callista's thumb skated beneath Olwen's blue eyes, wiping her tears away. "Is it really so hard as that? I've lived in shame most of my life. And look, I've managed to beat a barbarian into submission."

"You did not beat me," Olwen said.

"Shhh," the girl chided.

"Do not silence me!" 

"I'm sorry," the girl laughed, and once the laughter began she could not stop. She clutched Olwen's cheeks in her slender fingers and giggled uncontrollably. "Truly I am. But you were so silent on the verge of death. I forgot how loud you are."

"Kill me now," Olwen growled. "Kill me or I swear I shall have vengeance, not only for Viatrix but for this humiliation!"

"Oh, trust me, a little humiliation works wonders. It's very motivating. I'm sure even a big mean barbarian can stand to be humbled now and again--especially when she faces a superior foe."

The heat of Olwen's fever was nothing compared to the rage that blazed within her. "I hate you!" she screamed. 

"No, you hate yourself for being weak. Which is a pity, because you are so pretty with tears in your eyes." Olwen struggled to rise from her bed but the sorceress easily pinned her to the straw. "Do not mistake me. There is a great beauty in your fearsomeness. I have never seen a woman such as you. But I believe few, if any, have seen you as I do now."

Olwen thrust her head back against the wool, helpless and defeated. "I wasn't strong enough," she said. The words cut their way through the iron lump in her throat. "I...failed. I have never failed."

"I don't believe that," Callista said. 

"It was my first task and I..." She squeezed her eyes shut. "You could have slit my throat, as you did your teacher."

Callista's fingers skated over Olwen's cheeks again, taking her warm tears into the cold cavern air. "I loved my teacher. She believed in me as no one ever has, but she also believed a sacrifice was necessary. My life or hers. Her powers were waning and she told me...she warned me...that I would be severed from the Isle forever, if I chose the harder path. This is my destiny, to be hounded as a traitor, to overcome the chains of Man."

"I don't care," Olwen said. "I do not care for destiny, only victory."

Callista drew the barbarian's eyes to her bare thigh, and the poultice she'd applied to her jagged bite. "Is not life itself a victory?" she asked quietly. "I owe you mine."

"Our debt is settled."

"Not quite. I have nursed you, yes, but you still suffer."

Olwen could not answer. Her rage burned into her sorrow until the emotions were inseparable. It gnawed at her insides like the fangs of a pig rat. She heard her father's words atop the Skuggi mountains. "If you should fall..." There was victory or nothing, that was the barbarian way. She fought desperately to block the next tears that bled from her eyes, and fought too the sob that wrenched from her throat. Despite the fire and the wool blanket, she shivered. Was the sorceress right? Did she suffer? Yes, she did. The defeat hurt worse than any wound.

When she felt the girl's lips touch her own, she flinched as she had in the swamp. "No," she moaned.

"Yes," the girl sobbed, and the relief was too welcome to deny. Olwen closed her eyes into the kiss, and it was soft and warm, tentative but eager. Callista's thin fingers slid from Olwen's jaw to the space behind her ear, parting her lips in a reflexive moan and caressing her cautious tongue. Callista's tongue... It was not as the camel herder's had been, aggressive and sharp like a snake darting between rocks. Hers was playful and sensuous. When she withdrew, Olwen whimpered.

Instantly, the girl returned to lick Olwen's lips. "I have tended to you in this darkness for days," she whispered, "frightened that I was not skilled enough to save you. And now your eyes are open and I only want to soothe your pain." She bowed her head to kiss the cord of muscle in Olwen's throat. "And I have tended to this body of yours...and yearned." She drew the blanket from Olwen's naked breast. Her palm swept over the supple skin, careful to avoid the poultice, and greedy for everything else.

Once more the ceiling spun in Olwen's vision. The girl's thumb circled her dark nipple and lit a fire in her quivering stomach. It seemed to melt something inside her, a trickle of heat that wended through her mound and painted the inner lips of her quim. The salacious sensation defied her warrior discipline, sending her muscles into miniature spasms and constricting her throat until she choked on her own pleasure. As Callista's fingers slipped down her wriggling stomach, Olwen seized her by the wrist. "What magic is this?" she breathed.

"No magic," Callista said. "Why, do you feel better?"

"A kiss cannot make me better."

"Then I'm not doing it right." Callista's teeth bit into the barbarian's lip. With her free hand, she ran her fingertips along her throat. "Will you forgive me? I have been alone for so long and I..." Again, her cheeks were tinged with pink. "I have never known a woman so fierce, or so fair."

Olwen was shocked to silence. Her grip on the girl's wrist weakened and, when she could finally break free, Callista cupped Olwen's tan breast. Olwen gasped. It was as if a small creature dwelt beneath her skin and was now, gently, slowly, rolling its soft fur against the tips of Callista's fingers. "Better?" Callista whispered. Olwen surprised herself by reaching for the girl's cheek. She was softer than a lamb. 

Callista sighed into her mouth and pushed her cheek into her palm, moving with the touch. "I have used my powers to keep the world away," she whispered, "never daring to come close. I know that you could tear me to pieces but I have dreamed of your hands on me these many days." Her fingers slipped from the girl's breast to the firm wings of her obliques. Callista grunted as if she'd been stabbed and pressed her forehead into Olwen's. "You are so beautiful."

Olwen's nerves were in such a state of chaos that even the brush of Callista's hair gave her a tingle. Her heart slammed fitfully against the bars of her ribcage. "But you are my enemy," she whispered. 

"Not now," Callista promised. Her hand disappeared beneath the blanket to touch the blonde curls above Olwen's thighs. "Not here."