Assassinating her Pride (an Assassin's Creed fan fiction) NOTE : The plot and characters are baeed upon the game Assassin's Creed : Brotherhood. For folks familiar with the franchise, this plot is placed in the mission "Castello Crasher" and occurs as Ezio sits on a ledge near the top of the tower, observing Lucrezia and Cesare share an intimate moment.
The guard who comes later is not part of the actual game. For those unfamiliar, the plot is based in a ficitonal Renaissance Rome ruled by a family called the Borgia, to which both Cesare and Lucrezia belong [they're brother and sister but have an affair going on]. Ezio is an assassin who saw his father, brother and then uncle killed by the Borgia,and he's in Rome to get rid of these villians. Caterina Sforza is the ruler of a Forli, who was captured in a surprise attack on Monteriggio, Ezio's erstwhile home.
She shares an amorous relationship with Ezio and a bitter dislike for the privations she suffered at the hands of Lucrezia after she was captured. As with any fanfiction, gamers will find too few details while the general reader will find too many details which are alien to him.
The author requests both to add/ignore details as convenient. However apologies are made in advance for wrong details or inconsistent ones, they may be kindly pointed out in comments/mail. ) He watched from the ledge, like the eagle that had been circling the tower he wanted to enter, as if showing him the way in, where the solution to all his problems (or solutions) stood, unaware that he was so close to them, unaware that he was even alive.
Yes, he was like the eagle. Only difference was, he was human,he was stealthier, and he would be feared, soon. The meeting which he was watching was getting intimate now, the female running her hands seductively over the famed armor of the male, the male promising to make her the queen of Italia.
Italia indeed! Cesare, the self centred leader of the Papal (and for political purposes, Borgia) was too wily a creature to be held by a woman, even if she was Lucrezia Borgia, daughter of the most haughty Pope ever to disgrace the Holy See, who had made his daughter a female mirror of himself, his chains of deceit translated into feminine lace, softer yet as effective. But she'd fail here. Not that the Assassino was concerned. He was here to kill the male, responsible for the death of his uncle and loss of Monteriggio, who currently held his ally-cum-lover Caterina Sforza captive.
it would be a revenge as political as personal, and he would savour both. As much as his Creed allowed him to. He would then have to head back, complete rebuilding the brotherhood and ensure a better situation for the Assassins vis a vis the Templars, or as Roma knew them, Borgia.
As for the female, Caterina would deal with her. These thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a kiss, short but passionate, between the two people Assassino Ezio Auditore da Firenze hated the most. If it evoked any feelings in him to see his rivals profess love, he showed none. Hunched like the eagle over the ledge, his mind was already knitting together the sequence of ledges, projections and what not that'd aid his ascent to the top of the tower.
His senses keenly sought out the dangers as they took rounds below him, looked idly outwards from the ramparts or kissed passionately barely two metres from where he was.
He was aware of it all, and he realized that it was time to move. the meeting was ending. As Lucrezia looked on forlonly, Cesare was saying " I must leave immediately for Urbino." Urbino ?
NO! He must not miss his chance to take down the lynchpin of Borgia designs, not when he was this close. Not when.but Cesare was already leaving, his figure receding into the darkness leaving Lucrezia alone, her expression changing as Cesare left.
She was probably already wondering if her lover the playwright would be on time. But Cesare! He was heading out of the gate, flanked by guards. it was too high for him to assassinate from mid air,and a fall would mean instant death, even if it had been the legendary Altair. He was gone. The chance was gone. THe Pope was already out, and now Cesare. A heavy sigh escaped the Assasin, his features showing a rare emotion, disappointment. "machiavelli would be very disappointed". But Auditore was not trained to dwell on disappointment.
His mind had already decided to head for the only remaining target, the least of the three, Lucrezia. It may help to free Caterina, whose name, though Ezio was loath to admit it, made his heart skip a beat. No, he must concentrate. Larger things than a woman were at stake here. Looking towards the next ledge, he calculated the distance in a millisecond, and jumped! The Borgia guard at the bottom of the tower yawned, wondering why the day was so boring.
He was required to be at duty in the Princess' chambers soon, a duty all the more tedious because it entailed service more fit of a maidservant than a soldier. And to think on such a fine day too, the sky so blue. As he looked up, he saw a slight movement, as if someone had jumped out of sight high on the tower wall.
He looked again. Nothing! He must be hallucinating. Sighing, he set off for the change of guard, little knowing what the day had in store for him. The Borgia guard at the top of the tower also yawned, envying the guards at the bottom of the tower, who atleast could have a chat or two when they felt like it.
But being a crossbowman, his task was to stroll on hot rafters, and for all purposes, he felt like a cat on a hot tin roof. yet suddenly his attention was riveted to a movement just below the edge of the roof, and he could swear he saw a hand move. Was the sun doing tricks ? Cursing the proverb 'curiosity kills the cat' he looked carefully down where the hand had been. The guard at the bottom had just entered the tower when he heard a loud thud ? Or did he ?
He couldn't trust himself any longer. Cursing the ills of Borgia duty, he headed upstairs. Even as he was heading upstairs, his comrade the second guard on the roof was startled to see a guard missing.
It wasn't like him to skip duty, even for quenching his thirst, and on the day Cesare was leaving.A shadow crossed his path, followed by a sharp pain.
The last thing he saw was his red tunic grow redder still, with his own blood. Another thud on the ground. The Assassino now stood on the roof of the tower, looking at the private quarters of Lucrezia, supposedly at the very safest of the Castello d'Sant Angelo's abodes.
And now he was going to render all those defences useless : he was going in. A couple more thuds and groans later, he had sighted his target, talking contentedly to the her highly enamoured lover in waiting, the playwright.
Currently he was professing his love in the most florid terms Renaissance Italy had to offer, but Ezio could tell that Lucrezia was distracted, her narrow eyes glancing furtively at where the guard, the very same who'd been yawning at the bottom, stood in attention. She was relieved, somehow even the Castello didn't feel safe without the two men in her life (the florid handbag of a playright aside) being there.
Presently the lover also sensed her distracted state, and became aware of a strange silence, one in which he wasn't exactly familiar.
Yet he, having risen from a background far inferior to Lucrezia's, was aware things that only happened in the ghettoes of Roma, and he didn't feel at ease anymore. Ezio watched the two dispassionately, wondering if he needed to take the poor playwright captive as well. Did he need to kill the guard ? He never killed more than the bare minimum neccessary. He was no sadist, he was a professional. Seeing things move too slowly, he decided to move anyway as the lover was entering into a stammering farewell oration.
Roof's edge to window ledge. Ledge to lamp stand. Lamp stand to ivy covered ledge, from there to another window ledge. The playwright was leaving hastily, the guard following him out. Ledge to another stand, to ivy covered ledge, lower and lower. Lucrezia had taken to moving to and fro in her little courtyard, chanting "He loves me, he loves me not" sadly, it was no talisman against the Assassino.
"By all means carry on. I didn't mean to disturb." Her face went white, her many ringed fingers clasping her throbbing chest as she beheld one she'd known to be vanquished likely dead, in Monteriggio. Hadn't she herself seen him get shot ? How. Though she inadvertently spluttered her surprise, Ezio showed no intent of explaining his return, instead asking plainly if she'd cooperate in liberating a certain lady of birth who was being (likely) treated in a way demeaning to her dignity.
Realizing what his objectives were, she made the split second decision to resist. "Guards!" Her shrill voice brought out five guards, even as the desperate woman headed into the innermost of the gardens. Ezio had expected no less. As always, his mind chose from the wide array of weapons. Even as they rushed in, he climbed a ledge and nailed one hapless guard to the fence with his crossbow.
The next moment he'd leaped amidst them, too close to one. Close enough to impale him with his hidden blade. two down three to go. The three however were not mere spectators, yet two had foolishly chosen heavy weapons. They now charged in unison, and managed to hit the same spot of Assasin evacuated ground. One of them was too slow to turn around, and felt the short blade slice his abdomen, sending him crashing into the other.
This only helped the Assasin take him down as he tried to regain his balance, a well aimed strike to the face coloring his visage red. The last one had been making ineffective strikes with his short blade, managing to get only a scratch in for his efforts. He now jumped away as the Assassin tried to strike.
and again. This gave him hope that perhaps he could get the better of Ezio after all. He struck- thin air. And felt the dreaded blade pierce his midsection, emerging in a fountain of blood through his light armor.
Five down, what a waste of time, thought Ezio. He now hastened to where Lucrezia was cowering. She was no stranger to bloodshed, enjoying the Papal executions as much as her father did. As much as Cesare did. Cesare! If only he were here. She screamed "Guards" again, her hope fading as only two responded this time, one of them making it only halfway before being taken down by a throwing knife.
Only one guard left ? This poor soul, however, was the very same who'd gone to see off the playwright, and had now returned to find his comrades embracing the cold ground as their precious charge cowered before a blade wielding hooded figure.
His heart in his mouth, he tried to make a charge at the man, hoping something would give. A second later he found himself stopped by a kick, spun around and held captive with a seven inch blade at his ill defended throat.
Lucrezia had by now tried to conjure up atleast ten more guards with her cries, the capture of her last hope coiciding with a gasp for breath.
Seeing further use of vocal faculties for bringing Borgia guards useless, she took to cursing and spitting at the dangerous figure before her, who held the struggling figure of the guard, which made him look all the more terrifying.
Ezio, aware yet unconcerned by these developments was currently surveying the outer garden for signs of life. As they wold be inevitably hostile, it was better to be prepared. He knew he had to take Lucrezia into captivity, the guard being just a makeshift arrangement. Having captured him, he was loath to kill him, knowing he was just a man doing what he was paid for.
Infact. Ezio had been observing the woman half cowering half spitting at him, and every inch of her frame made him loathe her. Here was the woman who had looked on haughtily behind Cesare at the destruction of the innocent town of Monterrigio, while Mario, his uncle, lay wounded at their feet. She had laughed at the poor man's struggles to get up, calling him all sorts of demeaning words, ensuring it was all he heard before dying at the feet of his enemy.
It was she who had dragged the lovely Caterina like a slave out of her carriage, had humiliated her in front of the bridge leading to the Castello, had slapped and hurt her when she cried defiance. Treated her like scum, when it was she who was scum, worse than scum. She with her haughtiness, her ideas about her social status, how she was born to be revered and hallowed, how she was holier than the Pope himself. she who had no heart, who played double games for her own aggrandizement, she who'd always been the consort of his arch enemy and mimicked him like only a creature as heartless and cruel could.
Ezio, for all his training, could not forget what he'd seen, felt and known. He could not stop hating her, and now, when she was in his power, it dawned upon him, his analysis unclouded by his anger, that a degraded, humiliated Lucrezia could hardly be Cesare's choice.
He only took the best, and Ezio would ensure he would not choose her. Seeing that things had calmed for the moment, he decided that Caterina could wait a few moments more, while he began Lucrezia's defeat. Disarming the guard completely, he threw him away, and replaced his throat for the well decorated one of Lucrezia, getting a few more insults for his effort.
He was surprised at how soft she felt against him, her lovely curves, now available to him for less than the cheapest whore in Roma, more than making up for her steely gaze and her loud mouth. And even that could be fixed. He motioned the trembling guard to come closer, his eyes again screening the area for potential threats.
Seeing none but the eagle now observing them intently from a ledge previously occupied by the Assassin, he kicked her in the knee, making her buckle and fall to her knees, her mouth continuing its filth excretion unabated. Never mind, it'd end soon enough. Bending down himself, he whispered into her ear "Do you really miss Cesare ?" Confusion clouded her face, the allusion to her love life clearly out of place in the environment.
What did he mean ? Surely he wouldn't do something as mean as reporting her dalliance with the playwright to the general. And what if he did ? Already some guards knew,one had even tried to take advantage of it, and suffered. The playwright would be missed once Cesare was done with him, but then what could be done ? But again, what did the Assassin want ? did he.? The thought of being brutally raped by her enemy made her heart skip several beats, it not being possible for her circulating organ to beat any faster.
Could she survive such disgrace ? such dishonour ? But then again, hadn't she slept with four men already ? Didn't Cesare know it already ? As long as word didn't get out who the fifth was,she was safe. And Ezio was of the same social station (as she reluctantly admitted to herself) as she.
Plus, being raped by the enemy was peculiarly arousing.but her was speaking again. "You do miss Cesare. Perhaps you could make do with a replacement.
One of his men ?" Did she hear that right ? One of his men ? Meaning, in the immediate vicinity, this guard ?
This filthy low class scum ? Could he be serious ? Could he really contemplate giving her when he could sample her charms himself. She would willingly give herself, if the alternative was this! she would pleasure him all night, make him wish he didn't know Caterina, or Cristina, or any woman or that matter. But no! He was beckoning to the guard, and the poor man complying.
For a brief moment she believed that the guard of her lover would never violate her. Did they not take an oath to protect their master ? was she not an extension of that, regardless of her affairs ? Could he have the guts to. It turned out his guts didn't matter.
"You know what you've to do putata, do it. " "No!" the sound of her voice did nothing to reassure her. She of such high standing, of such lofty status, do "it" to a petty guard ? Never!
her heart skipped another beat as she felt the blade press against her skin, the Assassin's fine measurement ensuring it touched but did not cut, yet. She dared not use her tonsils anymore, for fear of cutting herself.
Yet she remained adamant, pretending to prefer death to dishonor. Closer still, the blade beginning to tear into her dermis, the movements of her throat muscles restricted now, making her want to puke.
The voice in her head was no weaker, almost pleading with her (and silently with the Assassin) not to humiliate her so. The blade cut.
Ever so sligthly but it cut. She felt a trickle of blood flow down into her dress, and her resistance drain along with it. She didn't want to die, life was too good for it. She had gotten everything, and believed she would continue getting it even if she did "it" for the man. Her eyes were openly tearing up now, and the first teardrop appeared to signal her acquiescence. A hand covered with silk and lace, inticately woven and costing thousand times the guard's wage, reached out to the pantaloons before her.
A signal from Ezio prevented him from stopping his charge's self degradation. She had no option but to grab the dusty fabric, slowly undoing the bonds that held it, her mind screaming at her to stop, the blade making her obey someone else's will.
The pantaloons came off, and revealed a loose undergarment,stained and apparently never having met the cleaners. Had she known, it was cleaned regularly, but her ideas of cleanliness were what a hundred of the guard's female counterparts did every morning to her dresses. Now the sleeve of that well cleaned dress met the poor man's ideal of cleanliness, and began to fumble with it, her hands by now trembling too much to work properly.
Was she really doing it ? Was Lucrezia Borgia really going to.Her hands moved on their own now, revealing the dick, 6 and half inches and modestly thick, to her gaze.
As if in a trance, she held the pink organ in her white hand, her well manicured fingers holding something which had only met the coarse hands of the cheap whores. And they encircled it, enjoying the girth of the organ. She had to admit, Cesare was smaller, and the playwright was only 6.
This was bigger ,and in any other circumstances she'd have enjoyed playing with a bigger prick. Except the incessant pricking of her status in her mind, which now elicited from her mouth a sob as she firmly wrapped the fingers around the organ.
As if by a magic unknown, it began to lengthen still further, becoming 7" before her awestruck gaze. Her hand began to slowly stroke it, feeling the steely hardness of the organ in her hand.
Did she want to suck it ?, asked a voice in her ear. In a daze, she said "Yes!" The guard stared in awe as the fair fingers began to journey up and down his member. Fingers which had never consented to touch his even when he was giving something to her were now doing what a whore would do for a couple for florins. As the fingers moved up and down his dick, he began to entertain thoughts about her which he'd never have dared to think of as an obedient soldier.
After all the sexy figure of the woman was plain enough in the less than modest dresses she wore (and once she'd dressed like a whore for Cesare's birthday). And now with the Assassino deciding things, he might as well enjoy himself. Who will know who raped her, and he doubted a woman of such status would admit to being raped by a common soldier.
Relaxing a little at this thought, he watched with mounting pleasure the Princess going about her work. Yet eventually the man could not control himself, he had to have that beautiful head on his cock.
Looking at the assassin for some signal and finding none, he began to get bolder. Grabbing a handful of her blonde hair, he roughly pulled her closer. She involuntarily let out a gasp which attracted the Assassin's attentio. Smiling he nodded, helping the cause by poking the woman in her shapely derriere with his boot, causing her to jump and yelp at the same time. Distracted as she was, the man used this opportunity to push the cock against her lovely lips.
Surprised, she gagged in reflex, only to have Ezio land a hard kick on her ass, making the imprint of his boot on her backside and allowing the guard to push in further. As fresh tears flowed from her reddened eyes, he impaled her fully on his dick, her eyes widening as it pushed into her throat and constricted her passage.
In vain did she try to shake her head, to plead with her hands and tears (which were by now watering the black garden above the pole)as the guard held her there for a full minute, gathering the courage to tell her to breathe through her nose if it was possible. She tried her best, but having never been abused such, even by Cesare, she found the going increasingly tough, and her face started reddening from the exertion.
The guard however was in bliss, a bliss only one who was being served so by one he'd served all his adult life could have. Seeing her staring up at him, her eyes pleading with him to let her go, to let her breathe, even as her red lips curled seductively around his meat, was a sight he'd give a year's salary for.
While holding her firmly in place, he ran rough fingers through her silky hair, pausing every second moment to stop her from pulling out by gripping and pulling her hair.
She wasn't the youngest he'd had got a blowjob from, but she was by far the most beautiful to him. Stroking her hair, cheeksas she desperately sought freedom made him feel powerful like never before. Almost as if he owned the slut. Ezio, so far not very involved beyond the backdoor encouragement to Lucrezia, watched in amusement as she shook and convulsed on his pole, desperate for air. Deciding that she'd had enough, he signalled to the guard to release her head, and Lucrezia collapsed on the floor in a heap,gasping and crying.
Ezio however,wasn't going to let her go so easily. Poking her blonde mane with his toe, he forced her to get up again and look at him. Gone were the arrogant looks and the sly demeanour, the rude and cruel words. Here was a woman who'd just realized she'd been violated, orally but violated all the same, by a man she'd considered her servant, slave even, at the behest of her enemy. And from the look of things, there would be no respite.
The guard, getting a nod from Ezio, grabbed the woman by her hair again, and dragged her to her position again, this time pushing in with ease and holding only a little while before pulling out his cock coated with saliva. And in he pushed again, the force of the thrust making her gag again, but now he was trying to get into a rythm. Within a second it was in again,and she had the privilege of seeing only his cock move in and out of focus.
She was having trouble accomodating him, her tender cheeks and poor tongue being rubbed raw by the increasing speed of the assault. The guard was by this time on his way to climax.
He'd almost cum at the feeling of her soft warm mouth on his dick ,the mouth that kissed his commander, now servicing his cock.
Now with the assault in full swing, he was feeling like he was in another dimension, where princesses sucked off soldiers, and the combined feelilng was driving over the edge. For Lucrezia however, it was no respite. Ever since she'd first taken him in, her mind had shut down at the sheer degradation of the act, and the increasing pace had forced her into a automaton mode where she appeared to only think of how to suck him well, so that Ezio left her as early as possible.
For some reason she found this comforting, involuntarily giving herself up to be abused, the mental resistance dulled then broken by the concerns of breathing. And suddenly he pulled out, holding his dick over her face as the pole spewed white fluid on a red face, coating her hair, eyebrows and cheeks with the hot liquid.
To the man it seemed forever, the jizz descending like showers from his cock,completing his conquest. He had taken her, had raped her, and felt as if he was now the equal of Cesare himself. Sighing in contentment he dried his cock in her hair and withdrew. Ezio too had been amused by the way the guard chose to end his abuse, and loved the look of horror and disbelief in her face as she got the first on her knees facial in her life.
As her mind was freed from the bare necessities of survival, the full force of the act hit,and she covered her face in her hands, crying.
But he had one last thing to get. Grabbing her forcefully, he asked her where Caterina was kept and where was the key. Both were supplied by the shell shocked woman in a daze. Yet Ezio didn't have an eternity to enjoy the scene. Although guard shifts in the city changed at dawn and evening, he presumed the ones in the city changed much faster. Getting the details of the shifts from the man, he allowed him to leave (as a reward for raping Lucrezia Borgia), seeing full well that the man was more likely to flee the castle than report anything.
This done, he locked the woman in her apartments and headed downstairs. As he presumed, the guard shifts were just changing, leading to some unnecessary bloodshed. Within ten minutes of leaving Lucrezia, he had reached the area where Caterina was held prisoner, ahving ascertained the location from the guard and from the broken princess. Two guards were patrolling the area, while the woman he loved appeared to be injured, groaning inside her small cell.
The first guard had barely responded to a request from her for water when he felt his blood spill out. Five seconds later, the second guard, turning as he completed a round, met the same fate. Having checked for additional guards, he quickly unlocked the gate, and Caterina, who was trying to get to him, promptly collapsed on him. An inquiry led him to learn that just after Cesare left, she had visited her captive and had shown the partiality of whacking her repeatedly with a wooden bat on her legs and thigh.
Caterina suspected something was broken, and asked him to carry her. This he did, and was on the way down the stairs when she asked him where Lucrezia was, she'd have liked to say goodbye to her. Ezio, not knowing how she'd react to his actsimply told her he'd locked her in her quarters. This seemed to make her happy, for she immediately asked him to take her there. Ezio wasn't so sure. His instincts told him that exit would not be easy as day gave way to night, with an injured charge such as her.
They'd have to leave via the main gate, almost making a pageant of what was supposed to be stealth mission, and he knew that guards were increased at night. Still she insited, and for a while they stood on the stairs, arguing. Yet as often happens, her insisting prevailed over his better sense, and he headed upstairs, hoping there would be no great price to pay for this indiscretion. They found Lucrezia as they'd left her, with the only change being that she had somehow acquired a knife and was preparing to defend herself with it.
Ezio, unlocking the gate, briefly contemplated asking Caterina to disarm the woman, before realizing that such an idea, normally quite feasible, was now impossible. So he had to put her down and headed towards her.
It seemed Lucrezia wasn't sure what exactly to do with the knife, for she held it like a saber, her cum-enhanced features making her look exceedingly like a hag. Seeing him approach, she finally moved. But like all others, far too late.
A vice like grip on her wrist disarmed her instantly while a slap made her give up all thought of resistance. Howling, she fell to the ground again,as if he'd hit her with a cudgel. Having neutralized this threat, the Assassin picked up Caterina and placed her beside her ex tormentor.
and stepped back. For a moment the two women looked at each other, one trembling even though it was the other who was injured.
And then the latter began to spread the pain. Grabbing a handful of Lucrezia's hair, she yanked her head roughly towards her. Seeing the woman yelp made her smile, and she expressed her pleasure with two hard slaps on either cheek of the Borgia princess. Lucrezia made a belated attempt to fend her off, only to have her arms twisted, the other woman's equally fair digits digging into the flesh of the princess. Having conclusively lost the struggle, Lucrezia began to crawl away, only to be dragged back down by her hair.
Her abortive escape attempt was then rewarded with punches on every inch of her breast and midsection that the injured mistress of Forli (i.e. Caterina) had access to. Ezio watched all his with contentment animating his features. If there was anything that gave him more pleasure than humiliating her himself, it was seeing vengeance exacted thus by Caterina, and knowing he was the facilitator. If an Assassin was allowed any room for human feelings, (and he knew he was taking more than his share of them) he would have liked to remember that scene as one of poetic justice.
But as it happened, he would remember it for a lot more. Having reduced certain sections of her adversary's body to purple patches of the wrong sort, she looked at her rescuer, her hooded knight, with a look that clearly asked for him to participate.
Assuming that he woul be loath to hurt a woman (she had no idea what he'd done earlier) she grabbed the daughter of the Pope by the ornate edge of her dress and dragged her towards him. Ezio, wondering what he was getting himself in, approached warily, his handsome features animated with uncertainty for the first time.
Hesistantly he began "Caterina, it is getting late." Caterina put a finger to her lips, and pulled him closer, such that he was in the same position the guard had been in, with the much abused Princess before him.
"I think she needs to give us a parting gift for the problems she's caused us." Problems was an understatement, but Ezio was more worried about the gift.
Suddenly, Lucrezia made an attempt to move away,as if the long dormant self respect had risen again to protest a second round of defilement. Caterina would have none of it. Grabbing her golden locks, she slammed her head hard into Ezio's midesection, knowing his armor would ensure only she was hurt.
ALl that escaped Lucrezia's lips was a muffled cry, as she remained stuck to him, trembling and whimpering like the servants she'd ordered to be caned for minor mistakes. "You called me the she-whore of Forli did you not ? Who's the whore now ? " hissed Caterina. If Lucrezia wanted to say anything, she was not given the chance, for Caterina now grabbed her chin and forced two fingers into her mouth, sliding them in and out as tears began to flow freely down the victim's cheeks.
Having "examined" her in this manner, she wiped her fingers on her bodice. Patting her cheek, she said "You'll do I think. Now begin." Notwithstanding the thoughts she'd entertained at the time of giving a blowjob to the guard, she now found it extremely humiliating to give another blowjob, this time under the direct orders of her counterpart in the enemy's camp.
If humiliation at the hands of Ezio had horrified her, this, by virtue of being meted out by a female, a female who'd been her captive and for all purposes her would be sex slave, unthinkably degrading. Hanging her head,she stared at the ground between Ezio's feet, until she felt another tug at her dress and her head was jerked up to his groin.With trembling fingers, she began to remove the clothing that covered his manhood. The first touch of her feminine fingers sent electric shocks through Ezio.
He had never anticipated getting sexual pleasure in what he considered to be a field of battle like any other. True, he'd gone astray with the guard, but that had a specific purpose to it, and this. his pants were coming off, and then his underwear, exposing his nether regions to a coldness altogether new to him.
It made his ball sacks smaller, and Caterina, realizing this, directed the cunt to begin with them. As Ezio fought urges to run, to stop proceedings and to continue, he saw her face framing his dick, which was becoming hard inspite of him. A ,moment later, he felt a soft wet touch on his ballsack, which had last felt a woman's touch in Monteriggio. the tongue now began to work in earnest on his balls, licking in circlic patterns before moving to the other.
The warm touch felt exotic in the cold, and served to make him harder, almost rock hard now. Lucrezia, knowing well what to do from the numerous men she'd been with, now began to pull the skin with her lips, sucking it in and licking it alternatively. For Ezio though, equally important was the sight of his enemy's lover degrading herself so, under the constant watch of his