Worlds Combine #3:

Red Sonja

By karaokecowboy76

I am Uatu, a member of a cosmically powered group known as the Watchers.There are few in the many and varied universes that can match my power,But though I can intercede in the events you are about to hear of, such is not my place.Mine is but to watch and record, but never to interfere…I am the Watcher

The Hyborian Age, thousands of years ago:

                Squalid, dank and stinking of sweat, feces and other things she’d rather not identify, but the ale was cold and that was all she required.  Sonja of Hyrkania, called Red Sonja or “She-Devil with a Sword” which she had always secretly liked, was tired this day.  All she wanted was a drink, a quiet corner in which to partake of it and the peace necessary to do so.  Alas… two out of three wasn’t bad.

            He had already been in the tavern when she entered, and like every other man in the place he had undressed her with his eyes.  Not that that required much, her chainmail bikini was legend… in that there wasn’t much to it.  She knew she showed more skin than was considered proper and that in the eyes of many people that made her a wanton woman, though in truth nothing could be farther from accurate.  The truth was Sonja had rarely been with a man, she would go years on end without breaking her celibacy because, as was part of her legend, no man should lay with her lest he be capable of beating her in combat.  So far, she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of men that had been successful in that, and of them none had been able to keep up with her as a lover.  It stood to reason that since she didn’t have intercourse often, when the chance would arise, she would be… voracious.  The only man she had ever hoped would beat her, and who she was fairly certain would be a

match for her in bed, was Conan the Cimmerian, but thus far the few times they had come together, and he had challenged her, neither had emerged the clear victor.  Or they had been interrupted before their contest could be decided.  In a way she was glad though, for if he lost, she felt she would kill him.  She often did when men challenged her for the right to rut between her thighs, deciding that if they weren’t worthy of her body, they weren’t worthy of their own lives either.  Not always certainly, she had let many a man live that she thought had the potential to perhaps do some good in the world, but men like the one eyeing her from across the room didn’t fit that category.

            He was a large, muscular ruffian and the only one in the tavern that might have the audacity to approach her.  She was expecting it, she always expected it that way she was never surprised by it.  She was sitting in a corner of the room, shadows masking much of her womanly charms from the prying eyes of the men, though they had all gotten a good eyeful when she entered.  Her feet were propped on the table in front of her, crossed at the ankles and her back was to the wall, her sword hanging low on a shapely hip.  He kept staring across the room at her and Sonja, not one to be cowed, didn’t look away from him, her green eyes issuing the challenge she guessed he would soon accept.

            Sure enough, quicker than she would have thought him able, he hauled his impressive bulk to his feet and started toward her.  Sonja sized him up as he approached, well over six feet with a ruddy complexion.  His nose was large and badly twisted, as though it had been broken more than once in the past, likely in situations similar to the one he was about to initiate with her.  He wore a bear fur vest and pants stitched loosely of burlap, tucked into old, well-worn boots.  As he walked, he adjusted his belt, from which hung a mace and chain, evidently his weapon of choice, which she took note of.  It was a rare enough weapon to give her some pause, but only out of curiosity that he should choose to wield it.

            He stopped a few feet shy of her table, his dull brown eyes, fogged with alcohol, sliding slowly up her long, shapely and very bare legs.  When he spoke, his heavily bearded mouth seemed to shuffle slightly up and down and he mumbled almost incoherently, “You’re Red Sonja.”

            It wasn’t a question, so she chose to pose one of her own.  “What’s that to you?”

            “I am Lem of Sargossa, champion of the battle of Khet.”  she blinked up at him, seemingly unimpressed, which was accurate enough.  “I have heard of your vow woman… I am here to take you to my bed.”

            “Go sober up Lem of Sargossa, I’ve no wish to embarrass you in front of your mates.”  Yes, there were other men seated at the table he’d been at, all of them watching the confrontation between these two.

            “No worries wench, you won’t!”  With that he kicked out, upending her table and sending Sonja crashing over backward, table, chair and warrior woman getting entangled.  She swore, wondering how she had not seen so simple an attack coming.  Was she getting so overconfident that she was becoming lax?

            She heard his footfalls on the boardwalk of the tavern coming for her, so the first thing she did before disentangling herself from the rubble of her table and chair was to curl her fingers around the handle of her sword.  Lem kicked the table aside savagely, sending it skidding across the floor to shatter against the base of the bar and then Sonja kicked her own chair away, directly into his legs!  Lem shouted his anger as he fell over it, his nose breaking yet again as he slammed face first into the ground.  Sonja scrambled to her feet, her empty tankard clattering to the floor, its contents having poured over her bountiful chest, making her cleavage gleam slightly in the dim lighting of the tavern.

            Lem was pushing himself upright, but he paused a moment when heard the telltale sound of her sword clearing leather as she drew it.  When he found his feet a moment later his mace and chain were in hand and he set it to spinning lazily.  “Give up now woman.  I’ve no wish to fatten your pretty lips before I find more pleasant uses for them!”  Men at his table laughed at this but Sonja snarled and lunged for him, feinting a stab at his chest, then dropping her swords tip when he brought his weapon up to parry, driving the point into his thigh.  Lem howled and delivered a vicious backhand to the side of Sonja’s head, sending the warrior woman spinning away to crash into the nearby wall.  He slammed into her from behind, pinning her to it with his bulk and twisting her sword arm up behind her back, causing her to wince.  His free hand moved slowly up her bare waist, his fingers tracing the firm roundness of her breast through the lightweight chainmail.  “I will have you woman!”  he growled into her ear, and she drove her head back into his face, shattering his nose further.  He staggered back with a roar of pain, releasing her, his vision blurring from the impact.  Sonja spun and kicked out savagely, driving the toe of her leather boot hard into his groin.  Lem doubled over, clutching at his ruined privates and his knees buckled beneath him, forcing him to them.

            “Too easy.” she growled, stepping in to thrust her blade at his throat, but suddenly Lem wasn’t there, dropping to the side and rolling.  She frowned, realizing he had been faking his level of pain and her esteem of this man went up a level at that.  Then he lunged to his feet, swinging his mace and chain up from the level of the ground.  Sonja’s eyes widened in surprise when his weapon’s chain wrapped around her blade, then the steel ball slammed into her fingers. She gasped as the sword was yanked from her hand, then Lem turned his shoulder and slammed her back into the wall again.  The back of Sonja’s head slammed into the wall, blurring her vision and she staggered forward into his stifling embrace.  Her vision had yet to clear when suddenly she was in his arms, her feet lifted from the ground and Lem’s beard shrouded mouth was crushed to hers.

            Sonja’s eyes widened in shock and surprise, the svelte warrior woman struggling against his embrace though he was much stronger than she. Her head would not clear of the dizziness that was threatening to overwhelm her, preventing her from thinking clearly.  Still, the art of combat was as much instinct as it was thought and her instincts were sharp!  She drove her booted foot into his knee and Lem grunted, staggering to one side but not releasing his hold on her.  Still his head moved back, and she butted him again, this third time his nose was tortured proved his undoing and he released her to stagger back, bellowing in pain and rage as his hands rose to cradle his punished face.  He stumbled into a table, toppling with it to the ground and rolling away, trying to put distance between himself and the She-Devil with the sword.  Sonja, still dizzy and not understanding why, staggered to one side, seeing her sword on the ground at her feet.  Deftly she slipped a toe under the handle and kicked it into the air in front of her, but when she tried to catch the handle, her fingers curled around the blade instead.  If not for her gloved hands, she would likely have sliced off her fingers.  Correcting her grip on the weapon, shaking her head briskly all the while to try and clear it, she looked around for the offending Lem.

            She saw him back at the table where his friends were still seated, pulling himself upright and glancing hatefully toward her.  Sword in hand, her head still swimming for reasons she couldn’t fathom, Sonja staggered toward the table.  As she approached one of his friends got to his feet and turned to meet her, “Here now, he’s had enough wench!”

            “Not even close!” she growled, punching this man in the throat and moving past him to get at Lem.  The rest of the men at the table, there were three of them, swarmed to their feet and joined by Lem, came at Sonja as one.  Were she in top form, she might not have been concerned about four men but with her mind so muddled she knew she had little hope against them and thought perhaps gang rape was in her future.  Turning, she sprinted across the tavern, hating that she had to flee this group of uncouth louts and hurtled through the closest window she saw.  She sailed amid a shower of broken glass; her mind awhirl with blurred images.  Curling into a ball she hit the ground, surprised to find grass beneath her instead of the hard packed dirt floor she had expected outside the tavern.  She rolled a few feet, coming to rest on her back, arms extended.  She was lying on a soft bed of grass, that was certain, and she knew there was no grass anywhere in the desert town she had been drinking in.

            The world continued to spin around her, and Sonja lost track of time, eventually succumbing to the inevitable and passing out completely….

            When at last she came to it was to the relief that the world had stopped spinning.  Groaning, she pushed herself to a sitting position and glanced around with a scowl.  “Mitra… where the blazes am I?”  Gone was the tavern and the dingy little town in the middle of the desert.  She found herself in a field of soft grass amid what looked like high mountain peaks in the distance, tipped with snow caps.  She glanced around and saw that the field she had awakened in was dotted with wildflowers.  “”It’s beautiful, wherever it is.”

            Standing, Sonja glanced about and found her sword lying in the grass a few feet away, having been dropped in the dizzy roll out of the window.  “Must have been some kind of magic in effect in that tavern, a portal to another land perhaps?”  She shook her head, wondering whether one of her old enemies like Kulan Gath might not be behind this.  “Best be on my guard.”

            Glancing at the sun, which she thought by its position made the time late afternoon, she faced what she thought was west and started walking.  It wasn’t long before she wished she had a horse.  She walked for several hours and was starting to think she needed to find a sheltered place to sleep for the night when, in the distance, she saw the flickering light of what had to be a campfire.  Frowning, wary of traps and still uncertain of what her situation was, she moved forward cautiously.  She got to within twenty feet of the fire before she realized that there didn’t seem to be anyone in the camp.

            She was just reaching for her sword when she felt the point of a weapon at the small of her back.  “Don’t.”  She stiffened, then slowly raised her hands to shoulder height.  “Turn around woman.”

            She did so, her green eyes narrowing slightly when she saw her… captor, was the best word for him.  He was average height for a man, about six foot two and wore what she took for armor of dark blue with white gloves and boots.  He also wore a hooded cloak of white and his face was covered by a mask fashioned to look like a skull.  He was well armed, in his hand was a sword, the point of which she had just felt and on his back was a round shield as well as a quiver of arrows and a bow.  “Who… or what… are you supposed to be?” she demanded.

            He cocked his head to the side, his eyes, visible through the holes in the mask, showed what she expected they would when they ran down her scantily clad form… lust.  “Call me Taskmaster… what do they call you lovely?”

            “Red Sonja.”  she told him simply.  He stood there staring at her for a long moment, then slowly his sword point rose, and he traced the large, firm swell of her left breast with the point of the sword.

            “Well Sonja, you want to tell me what you’re doing out here?  And why you’re sneaking up on my campsite?”  he inquired.

            She watched his hand, saw that it was steady and didn’t waver though he continued to trace the generous curves of her chest with the tip of his sword, back and forth across the front.  “I… awoke a few hours ago in a field to the east.  I have no idea where I am and was trying to find a place to sleep for the night when I happened upon your camp.  One can’t be too careful in the wilds, so I was… sneaking up to ensure it was safe to approach.”

            His voice was deep, seeming to echo slightly from behind the mask.  “I’ve got a warm bedroll I’d be happy to share with you.”  He said with a chuckle, his sword still tracing her generous cleavage.

            Her eyes became hard, her full red lips turning up in a cold smile.  “I cannot allow that Taskmaster.  Only a man who bests me in battle shall sample my charms.”

            His brown eyes rose from her chest to meet hers.  “Is that all?”  He laughed, then stepped back.  “Draw your blade then, for I’ve not had a woman in some time and never one that looked remotely like you.”

            “Understand that if you lose, you will die.”  she said, drawing her blade slowly from its scabbard.

            He shrugged.  “Understand that if you lose, you will get royally fucked!”

            “So be it.” She said with that same cold smile and then she lunged at him.  The dizziness had long since left her and she felt herself to be in excellent fighting form!  She lunged with a stab, a simple move to try and gauge his skill.  His blade twisted easily in front him, parrying hers away and he twirled, his cape distracting her eyes slightly and she felt the flat of his blade smack across her firm buttocks.  She spun, her eyes narrowing, to see him a few feet from her.  He bowed condescendingly, hands out to the sides.  “You’re swift, I’ll give you that.”

            “You ain’t seen nothing yet doll.”  he chortled and this time when she charged, he met her head on, their swords meeting with a shower of sparks at chest level.  She was only a couple of inches shorter than him, so the only advantage he seemed to have on her was fifty or so pounds of muscle, but she understood that that advantage could easily work against her.  He pushed her back and she danced away lightly, happy to put some distance between them.  “Come on then, show me what you’ve got!”

            Her eyes narrowing, Sonja was careful not to strike in anger for she knew that to be error.  She moved in swiftly, her sword slashing diagonally left to right, starting at his shoulder and aiming to end at his hip.  Taskmaster stepped forward and to the outside of her blade, sliding his beneath hers and lifting it higher, then spinning along the length of her arm and driving his elbow into her back, sending her staggering forward.  Sonja swore and turned, this time he was within the reach of her arm, and he kneed her hard in the gut.  Sonja doubled over and staggered away, clutching her sword and raising it to parry as he thrust his blade at her.  She batted it away, then dropped to her knees and spun upon them, slashing at his stomach as she went.  Taskmaster gasped in surprise at that move, dodging backward, barely avoiding the attempt at disemboweling.

            She rose back to her feet at the end of the spin, bringing her sword around for another attempt, this one at his throat.  Taskmaster leaned backward, more easily avoiding this strike and she stabbed down at his calf, all in the same fluid motion but he moved his leg away and danced to the side.  It was almost as if he were increasing in skill even as she fought him!  “Blast!  How do you stay one step ahead of me?”

            “Are you ready to yield?”  he asked her, laughing slightly.

            Sonja was not used to men mocking her, by this point she was usually either running them through or very nearly so.  “Not while I yet wield a blade fool!”

            “Really?  Is that what it will take to get between your thighs?”  he laughed at the flash of anger that crossed her face, then he lunged forward, coming at her with a flurry of swift slashes.  Sonja fell back, meeting his assault slash for slash but coming closer to his breaking through her defenses with each strike.  He poured on the attack, increasing his tempo, moving faster and faster with each swing of the blade.  Sonja fell back, alarmed and amazed at the swiftness of the man, his blade requiring all of her focus to keep at bay.  Taskmaster didn’t relent, his arms a blur of movement, his eyes within the holes of his mask reflecting the respect he had for her skill with a blade.  He started to add movement to his deadly dance, twirling the blade between strikes, still moving so swiftly as to not give her a chance to strike in between but attempting to throw her off her game with the different style of fighting.  Sonja nearly faltered too, the masked warrior scoring a slight cut to her upper arm, eliciting a hiss of pain from Sonja as she spun away but he turned and followed her.  Still, she retreated as he came on and she started to realize she had possibly met her match here for she was beginning to tire.

            Then he beat her, so suddenly and with such a fluid movement that it took her a moment to realize he cheated.  He ended with an especially hard blow to the side of her sword, knocking the blade out to the side, then he spun the opposite way, whipping his cape around and entangling her sword in its folds.  Stepping forward and past her he again changed direction, twisting back the other way so that her sword was forced down and to her side then back and her momentum carried her over into a forward flip that landed her flat on her back, staring up at the blue sky, studded with soft white clouds.  Her sword went spinning through the air, disappearing into the trees several yards away and then he was there, blocking her view of the sky, gazing down at her along the blade of his sword, the tip of which he placed beneath her chin.

            “Now Red Sonja… I ask again… do you yield?”  She saw the look in his eyes, saw the way that they ran down the length of her prone form, already preparing to claim his prize.

            She hated him… but she could not deny him.  He may have used an unorthodox maneuver to defeat her at the end, but defeat her he had.  “I… yield.” she said softly, hardly believing the words had left her lips.

            “In that case… to the victor…” he pulled her to feet with one hand while whipping his mask off with the other, “...go the spoils!”  He kissed her, one arm about her waist, crushing his mouth to hers victoriously, thrilling at the feel of her hard but oh so womanly body pressed against his.  True to her word and her vow, Sonja returned his kiss with as much passion as she could manage.  As it lingered, it seemed his skill in it grew and as his skill grew so did her body's natural reaction to him.  Within moments Sonja moaned, raising her arms to encircle his neck, pushing his hood back and running her gloved fingers through his short cropped black hair.

            Taskmaster made quick work of his white gloves, then his bare hands started exploring the ample curves of the redheaded warrior, dexterous fingers unlatching the top of her armor and a moment later it was lying on the grass at their feet.  He filled his hands with her breasts, squeezing them, feeling the nipples harden against his palms.  Breaking the kiss he lowered his face, taking one of her large nipples into his mouth.  Sonja sighed, her head rolling back, eyes closing and lips parting passionately.  She raised one shapely leg, hooking it around his hip and he lowered a hand to caress her thigh, moving it up to her hip and then around to cup and knead the firm cheek beneath the chainmail hanging over it.

            “Undress me woman.” he instructed her and Sonja obeyed, her fingers finding the clasp of his cloak and then letting it slide from his broad shoulders.  She found and started working at the fasteners of his top, while wondering what in the hells his armor was made of.  All that while Taskmaster was returning the favor, removing what little she still wore in the way of clothing.  Within moments they were nude, standing in the small clearing

where he had made his camp, exploring each other’s bodies with hands and mouths.  At one point he leaned back away from Sonja, lifting a hand to caress her cheek, his thumb extending to slide over her full lips.  “You know what I want you to do with those?”

            She said nothing, but nodded as she slowly dropped to her knees before him, kissing her way down his solidly muscled form.  His manhood was already long and rock hard, pointing at her in a way that said it already knew exactly what it wanted.  As she lowered herself to her knees his rod slid between her breasts and Sonja pushed them together, cradling it between them.  Taskmaster groaned, surprised at this turn and reached out to hold her in place, bucking his hips to thrust it up and down between her impossibly firm breasts.  “That’s real nice!”  Sonja continued to push her bosoms together, tilting her head back to look up into her lover’s face. He had bested her in combat, thus it was her duty to use all her charms and wiles to please him, but on some level she was enjoying this, for lovers of hers were very few and far between.  “Now your mouth woman.”  She nodded, lowering herself fully to her knees and reaching out to wrap his member in a soft grip.  He was not so thick, but she found his rod to be quite long and ramrod straight.  She stroked him gently and he moaned, his head rocking back.  Sonja lifted the phallus and lowered her head, running the tip of her tongue up the underside of his shaft from base to tip and then back down, till her nose was nestled in his pubic hair.  He gasped then in surprise as she pulled one of his testicles into her mouth and sucked on it playfully, smiling when she saw him jump slightly in response.

            “Minx.” he said with a chuckle, then he gave a prolonged moan as the entire surface of her tongue slid up the length of his shaft. She lowered the spongy head, running it over her full lips before pressing them together against the head.  He lowered a hand and placed it on her head, applying gentle pressure which she did not resist.  Slowly she lowered her head over him, her lips parting around his shaft as she took him slowly into the hilt, the tip rubbing against the back of her throat.  She easily fought the gag reflex, then her cheeks hollowed as she brought her head slowly back up, applying exquisite pressure to his shaft as she retreated.  “God damn woman… you are good at this!”  She stroked his shaft with one hand as she withdrew, her other hand squeezing his ball sack gently, making him groan.  Her mouth came away from the shaft and she flicked her tongue out, circling the head twice and then sliding her lips down and back up the side of his shaft before taking it back in her mouth, more quickly this time.  He sucked in a breath, her sudden quickening of speed surprising him.  She bobbed her head back and forth quickly, her soft lips making his manhood swell all the further in her mouth.  “Jeez…!”  He was panting, straining not to cum too soon, but her skilled mouth had other ideas.  Within minutes Taskmaster through his head back and howled, his seed spurting forth and flooding Sonja’s mouth.  He tightened his hold on her head, thrusting his hips forward and shoving the tip of his rod down her throat.  She choked, her eyes widening slightly in surprise but then she started to swallow, milking his every drop with her skilled tongue.

            It was Sonja’s turn to gasp in surprise now as he took her hair and forced her to turn around, putting her back to him, then he shoved her forward, so she was on her hands and knees.  He knelt behind her, using a knee to force her thighs apart.  Sonja turned her head, looking over her shoulder at him as he slid his hands up her thighs and gripped her hips, positioning himself against her nether lips.  “Here I come bitch!”  she stifled her gasp, biting her lower lip and lowering her head to hide her blissful expression from him as he thrust powerfully into her, driving in as far as he could go, pulling back on her hips for all he was worth.

“Mitra!” she gasped out and he frowned, for this was not the first time she had incited a god he had never heard of.  Dismissing it quickly, he started to thrust in long, deep lunges, his hips slapping audibly against her firm ass as he took her roughly.  Sonja whimpered slightly for he was very long, and she was incredibly tight, having had very few lovers in her life.  “Goddess!” she gasped out, shaking her head from side to side in apparent denial of how good it felt.  Taskmaster was not gentle with her, gripping her hips tightly, pulling back hard as he thrust forward.  Sonja gasped and cried out with each deep penetration, Taskmaster growling his pleasure at the tightness and fiery warmth of her hole. She could sense he was about to cum, and he pulled from her, spanking her ass playfully as he made her roll over on her back.  Sonja locked her incredibly long legs about him as he came to her, their nude bodies sliding together from the sweat broken out on their persons.  She gasped anew as he entered her, neck arching, shoulders lifting off the ground.  Their mouths fused, Sonja meeting his tongue with her own, their organs sparring in her moist cavern.  They moved together, his hips driving upward, her feet flat on his hard buttocks urging him on, pulling him deeper while her hips rose to meet his thrusts.  Their hands explored while their mouths drank deeply of each other, Taskmaster endeavoring memorize her every curve. Their bodies rocked together as he pumped, driving deeply, deeper with every thrust, urged on by her whimpers of delight.  Finally, perhaps inevitably it ended in a crescendo of delight, waves of passion coursing through them as they each reached completion together.  Taskmaster thrust into Sonja with one powerful last burst, his seed exploding into her as lava from a volcano and for her part Sonja was hit by such an orgasm as to leave her gasping and quivering beneath him, clutching to him, her eyes closed, her heart racing.  The fire was close to the site of their coupling, so there was no need to move and they fell asleep that way, him still buried inside her.

Sonja came to and by the sun she could tell that it was early.  There was a chill in the mountain air, the fire had burned out and she was alone.  Taskmaster had left her in the night, not bothering to wake her up.  Nor was there any note… he was simply gone.  She retrieved her armor, what there was of it, and her sword and was preparing to set out when she noticed something.  An arrow drawn into the dirt to the north of the campsite, pointing west.  She smiled slightly, turning in that direction and starting off… a little more energy in her stride than had been there in quite some time.

To be Continued….