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Ciri's eyes narrowed, "I appreciate you pulling me from the waters but it's no concern of yours,". Asger stared at her for a moment sizing her up. She was shoved down onto the bed, and in an instant the two other men moved towards her grabbing her flailing limbs and holding her down. She could see her sword resting up against the butchers table, with a simple thought she escape the grasp of the three men, with just a thought she could vanish from them only to reappear behind them sword in hand. But then they would know. It would be like setting a bonfire ablaze in the darkness for the wild hunt to see.
If she used her gift they would know where she was and would descend upon this place and she was much too weak to escape from them, much to tired to run in his cold. There were things in life worse than three men. She would have to fight them off the old fashion way. She twisted her leg free, and kicked hard at one of the men sending him tumbling onto his ass. With enough space she shifted her hips and rolled to her side.
III.4. The Language of Tears
It tasted of bitter earth and as soon as it touched her tongue it began to dissolve into a slimy paste. At first it numbed her lips, then her tongue, and finally her throat, until she was unable to stop from swallowing it. The three men were no longer holding her, instead they let her lay there breathing shallow breathes, salvia drooled from the corner of her mouth and down the side of her chin as she stared up at the ceiling seemingly transfixed on the shadows dancing across the ceiling. She felt hands on her shoulders, slipping down her shirt, then her they lightly touched her breasts cupping them gently and pulling them free of her bra.
She gasped as a rough calloused finger rubbed up against her exposed nipple. Ciri's eyes rolled in the back of her head and she tried to pull away. She was so tired, so warm. Skellige is a mighty large place with a thousand islands. Whos head would he take. Ciri gasped as the room spun faster, she felt her trousers loosen, and the large man's large hands slip between her legs, a single rough finger slid across her slit then found the bundle of nerves and teasingly traced a trail around it.
She closed her eyes, her hips moved ever so slightly upwards into his hand increasing the contact. She groaned and clenched her jaw unwilling to believe her body was betraying her so easily. She jerked back and away, the sudden movement made her head spin, she tried to shake herself out whatever haze they had put her under only to find her vision fading, "No, no," she moaned as she felt her hold on consciousness slip.
Half conscious Ciri let out a soft moan as she felt hands cup her breasts, pulling her shirt and bra off. She felt them undo her belt, and the metal clang as it hit the floor. The leather corset she wore around her waist went next.
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Her hips were lifted as they peeled off her pants leaving her naked and bare. She could feel their hands run up and down her body and the warmth of the fire melting off whatever dampness was left from her dip in the cold Skellige ocean. Her eyes fluttered open and she watched with baited breathe as one of the men, she couldn't make who out disrobed, another caught her attention beside her as he bent down and kissed her neck, then her collar bone. Then finally his lips closed over her nipple as he sucked on the bud of flesh.
Too warm, she could still taste the root in her mouth, and the bitter aftertaste numbed her senses. He left her nipple and kissed down her stomach, taking time to lick her navel before going lower still. His tongue darted out and traced over her clit and she gasped. She knew she had made a sound then because all three of the men chuckled. Ciri eyes rolled back as s he sucked in a breathe of hair, Asgers hands were both firmly cupping her breasts as his tongue worked wonders between her legs.
As much as she tried to fight it her body was already quickly warming to his touch. He grabbed the large mug Bjorn was holding out for him and took a large gulp of the hastily brewed tea then looked down at where Ciri lay. Her eyes wide and shocked staring up at him. He tipped the cup pouring the liquid down over her chest before he bent down and began licking it up, with one hand he groped her right breast roughly as he devoured the other with his mouth rolled her nipple between his tongue before nipping at it making her cry out. He shoved himself between her legs forcing Ciri to spread for him.
His cock bobbed between their bodies rubbing against her legs and stomach. Every time it touched her thigh it sent a shiver up her spine. He was going fuck her, defile her, take her against her own will and there was nothing she could do.
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All her training, all her gifts and she couldn't stop it. All three of them were going to use her like a common whore. And The worst part was that she couldn't wait for it to happen. Asger pressed himself against her, the head of his cock running clumsy down her slit. He reached down between their bodies and grasped himself tightly. He rubbed himself against her teasing her and watching the clash of emotions that crossed her face.
Cici pinched her eyes closed and hissed out a warm breathe through clenched teeth, he was going to fuck her. She needed to stop this but she could barely stop herself from thrusting her hips up until his meaty cock forced itself inside her. It was enough to twist his head sideways but he turned back and grinned at her.
Her legs spreading and her highs lifting before squeezing tightly around Asger's waist. Asger pulled back, then thrust himself fully into her. Ciri screamed in both pleasure and pain, arched off the bed twisted her head and cried out again. He pulled out slowly, Ciri's soaking wet cunt gripped him tightly, her hips slowly rolling into his increasing the sensation between them. He pushed back in throwing his body into hers, crushing his hips against hers. He wasted no time, and began to roughly fuck her. Again and again he pounded into her with strong powerful movements.
The sound of their bodies slapping together filled Ciri's ears, again and again he moved fucking her harder and harder.
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Ciri whimpered and struggled weakly against him, her breasts crushed against his wide chest, her hips rolling against his pushing his cock even deeper inside her body. This wasn't supposed to happen, not like this. She couldn't stop herself from moaning as his body rubbed against her own.
She wasn't in control, she was his, she couldn't stop this. His much larger body completely covered hers, his head pressed against the side of her own his harsh loud grunting and his warm bitter breath in her ear. His hips moved like a rabbits in and out driving his hard shaft in and out of her aching cunt. The heat in her belly was intensifying with every stroke. Faster and faster he moved, relentlessly pounding into her much smaller body. His hand wrapped around her throat pinning her body to the bed.
Uhhh," Ciri eyes went wide in shock and she cried out as sparks shot up her spine. Her stomach clenched tightly and her thighs squeezed Asger as hard as she could. Disgust and despair washed over as she realized how strongly she cumming. How amazing it felt and how wrong it was.
He pulled back then slipped his cock free of her aching cunt, her own juices dripped from her, and small trembles still coursed up and down her sweat soaked skin. Ciri closed her eyes and sucked in lung fulls of air as she tried to recenter herself and regain control of her inflamed body. Ciri thought before she opened her eyes then sat up when she realized no one was holding her down, Asger immediately grabbed onto her shoulders and pushed her back down. She grunted as she landed hard against the bed.
The wood frame creaked under the stress.
A Biology of Tears
She twisted and twirled, feeling stronger than she had in hours "Hurry up," Asger grunted before he finally managed to force her onto her stomach and sat on her lower back pinning her to the bed. She heard one of the men say then she felt the course fibers of rope wrap around one free arm as it was being pulled behind her back. She lay there glaring at the 3 men who now all stood towering over her, their small clothes removed, their cocks hanging proudly between their legs. In the Iliad , thaleros is most frequently used in its literal sense: However, as Steven Lowenstam has shown, [ 27 ] there is a relationship between thaleros and tears that, while indirect, is nevertheless remarkable.
In fact, in three of the crying scenes, the epithet is applied not to tears, but rather to thighs, a mane, and a voice. The context of weeping thus induces the transfer of the epithet thaleros onto another part of the body, a part that is also involved in the pain: By association, the flourishing character of tears is communicated to another part of the person who is crying. Whether they are shed by gods, men, or trees, tears give birth to a variety of substances and plants; [ 31 ] the most famous example is the amber born of the tears of the sisters of Phaethon: Kovacs [ 32 ] Furthermore, the eye was often considered to be one of the areas of generation.
Yet among these elements, each belonging to a different epoch and level of thought, there seem to be points of contact, which do not arise by chance, and which must at least be pointed out. The association of the ideas of heat, growth, and fertility is thus in the background of the biological conception of tears: From the adjective thaleros , which belongs fully to the vocabulary of plant life, this hypothesis can be further clarified: Is it not appropriate to include sweat and tears here, as R.
Sweating, having a knee joint that dries out, and crying would all then be synonymous ways for Homer to express a loss of vigor. Tears, just like sperm and marrow, would thus participate in a liquid principle of life, a rather indistinct formulation. Should this be the perspective from which to understand the epithet thaleros?
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Before proposing responses, other qualifiers applied to tears and other ways of crying should be noted in order to verify whether tears are inscribed in the semantic field of fertility. Adinon , or adina , is one of the adverbs most frequently used to describe the act of crying. Of the twelve uses in the Iliad , all are related to lamentation; in the Odyssey , five of the nine total uses describe tears.
Its meaning seems richer, considering that other occurrences of the signifier adinos describe compact swarms of bees or flies, the strong and muscular heart of a warrior, the oppressed heart of Penelope, or even the vast and wondrous voice of the sirens. The adverb puknon is less common than adinon , though it belongs to the same register.
When Achilles sobs for Patroclus, his wailing lasts a long time: The volume of sound also indicates the intensity of weeping: Only men cry so deeply. The hand of a warrior is powerful Iliad 1. When a man weeps and lets out piercing cries, the context is always extremely dramatic: Achilles near the corpse of Patroclus Iliad Ligus , though, is also frequently used for the lamentation of women Iliad In the same vein, as if in response to these sharp cries, the statement that lamentation freezes the heart— krueros goos —is repeated several times, perhaps with a dual meaning: It should also be noted that the adjective krueros , in its other uses, characterizes the pursuit represented on the aegis of Athena Iliad 5.
The distribution of connotations attributed to tears is thus complex, almost contradictory: It is of note that when the poet describes a character consumed by tears, he is referring to either a woman or to Odysseus, whose situation in the Odyssey is no longer that of a warrior. In the Iliad , the hot and flourishing tears of heroes are obvious expressions of their vitality.
The spaces associated with tears differ depending on whether the lamentations are masculine or feminine. Men normally cry outside: Menelaus weeps on the seashore when he is with Proteus Odyssey 4. On the other hand, Penelope, the archetypal crying woman in the epic, always sobs inside the palace, and more specifically on her bed, inside her nuptial chamber: I will therefore go upstairs and recline upon that bed which I have never ceased to flood with my tears ….
A warrior can cry outside, on his weapons, a wife inside the palace, [ 53 ] on the marriage bed; once again, the distribution of masculine and feminine spaces is clearly distinguished. The warrior in the epic cries just as he fights: Men sob intensely , actively , vigorously. By expressing grief through his gestures and cries, the Homeric hero reduces the weight of his suffering.
Grief always follows an event that has taken place outside of the one who suffers. It is the interior reaction to the perception of this tragic exterior event. When he sees Hector dragged through the dust, Priam cannot contain himself: Hardly could the people hold Priam back in his hot haste to rush without the gates of the city. He groveled in the mire and besought them … [ 55 ]. When misfortune strikes, the grief that invades the heart as well as the body is expressed in a series of self-directed gestures, immediate and violent, upon the man who is suffering: Priam , pacing Odyssey Odysseus , rolling on the ground in the sand Odyssey 4.
Menelaus or the mud Iliad Hecuba and Andromache ; all are reactions dictated by suffering. On one level, there is nothing apparent that distinguishes feminine gestures of grief. Enter your mobile number or email address below and we'll send you a link to download the free Kindle App. Then you can start reading Kindle books on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required. To get the free app, enter your mobile phone number. Would you like to tell us about a lower price? Another hot Book from Jane L.
Ainsley Short Erotica Collection. Spice up your life with these tales of sex, seduction and erotism. Read more Read less. Kindle Cloud Reader Read instantly in your browser. Product details File Size: November 26, Sold by: