Taken by the Fair Conquerors [MF] [NC] [Impreg] [Raceplay] [Fantasy]

Night had fallen, and there I sat, silently huddled in a corner of the house with the other women. They had captured many it seemed. A chill was coming on, a remnant of the waning winter, but I didn’t care. My eyes were so, so heavy. It felt like I had cried all the tears already, and I couldn’t muster the will to shed any more of them. I couldn’t muster the will to do anything. I just sat there, wallowing, my head and eyes downcast.

I heard the cheers and joyous words coming from outside, all from the savages. They had made camp in my village, and took me back there. They had built great fires in the streets, using pieces of the houses as firewood, and around them they drank and danced, boasting and laughing. Not that I could understand their language, but it was clear to anyone that that was the kind of chatter they were making just by the tone of their voices. It was making me sick that these men could derive so much joy from senseless murder and destruction. I tried to tune it out.

The house I was in was crowded with women, all sitting on the wooden floor. Most of us, including myself, weren’t bound in any way. It was clear that only the troublemakers got that treatment, and much worse besides . . . Men would come for any bound woman, and take her away freely. I wasn’t going to be one of those foolish girls. Yet I stayed, awaiting my fate, just like everyone else. Why resist? If I tried to run I would be killed or taken for pleasure. The village was filled with the barbarians, and even if I could get out of this building, past the guard at the doors, escape was unlikely. It was hopeless, for now.

I felt someone touch my hand, a soft touch, a familiar touch. “Fushen?” A voice creaked.

I looked up, and saw Xinyi. She had sat down next to me, and she looked rough, rougher than I had ever seen her. Her hair, normally silky soft and beautiful, was a mess. Her eyes were puffy and swollen. Obviously she had been sobbing like every other woman in here. “They-they got you too?” I said hoarsely.

She cast her gaze down. “. . . Yes, and . . . not just me . . .” She nodded to the other side of her, and I saw Meilin, her eyes wide and her arms cradling her knees. The woman seemed entirely unresponsive, and she said nothing. She didn’t look any worse than Xinyi otherwise. She was plump, and curvy, traits that wouldn’t do well for her here.

“How? What happened to you?” I asked.

“They came upon us before we could leave . . . They killed most of the men in the village, and some of the women too. My . . . my mother . . . She tried to resist, and they took her away. I haven’t seen her, Fushen.” Tears started to well up, and she gripped my hand tightly.

I embraced her. “You’ll see her again,” I said, trying to comfort. “I know you will.” I patted her softly as she began to sob into my shoulder.

The few whispers around the room that I could hear cut off as a man stepped into the building. He spoke a bit with the guard at the doorway, then he started walking among the women. They recoiled in fear of him; no one wanted to be the next to be taken. I saw there were a couple of bound women remaining. *He’ll take one of them, surely*, I thought. I refused to look up at him, but his footsteps got closer, and closer, until he stopped in front of me.

He said something I couldn’t understand, and then pushed Xinyan away from me. She called out, but he ignored her pleading. “Don’t take her. Don’t! Don’t! Please!”

He grabbed me by the arm, and forced me up. So shocked, I didn’t resist at first, but halfway across the room I started to struggle. I felt the tears starting to well up again. “Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Please! Just leave me here! Leave me alone!” He ignored me. Then I tried to play limp, but he simply swept me up and shoved me over his shoulder. I saw Xinyi and Meilin huddled close together, weeping as they watched me being taken away.

It was over, and I gave up resisting. I was so tired. It was all so unfair. *Why is this happening to me? Why? What did I do?* As he bore me out of the building and into the street, lit by the roaring campfires and populated by the raucous victors, my tears fell down onto the dusty road hopelessly. My hair hung down over my face, hiding my shame, but I still felt their manly eyes upon me; surely they must know as well as I what was about to happen to me. The foul stench of the man holding me mixed with the scent of the burning campfires, overpowering my nose. His fingers digged deeply into my thighs as he carried me over his shoulder. I shut my eyes vainly. That was my useless attempt to escape this reality.

The sound of his footsteps changed as he brought me into a building, and then he let me fall onto a bed. When I opened my eyes I realized where I was . . . It was my parent’s room—in my house. The art our family had crafted over the years decorated the walls, paintings and charms. *What? No, no . . . Not here!*

When he came back into the room, a lit lantern in hand, I truly saw him for the first time. I had never seen a Westerner before—being so ashamed that I had always cast my gaze down while I had been in their presence—and I was surprised by his appearance. He was slender and tall, taller than any man I had ever seen. He wore strange clothing, an embroidered long-sleeved blue tunic which ran down to his thigh, some type of loose tan pants, and a light cloak. On his belt hung two swords; one was strange to me, but the other was familiar, of an Eastern style, like something my brother or father would carry. He set the lantern down, and when he turned around I caught his eyes. They were an icy-blue, and they shimmered coldly in the lantern light as he surveyed me. As was said of his people, his skin was white, but I hadn’t known it would be so translucent that I could see some of the blue veins running underneath. *I know women who would kill for skin like that. And yet he has it as a man. A warrior!* I wondered how beautiful the women were.

I recognized him, then. I had only gotten a glimpse of him the first time, and he was wearing armor at the time, but he was the one who had captured me and taken me back to the camp they had made out of my hometown. I remembered how strong his arms were when he had taken me. How he had wrapped them around my waist, and how helpless I had been.

He sat the lantern down on the floor, and then took off his swords. I sat quietly on my parents’ bed, trying to make myself as small as possible, bending my knees and clutching my legs. The tears had stopped for now.

Then he turned his attention on me, and I felt my heart race. I bent my head as low as possible, gazing downward, but didn’t shut my eyes; I couldn’t hide from this situation. I felt the weight of the bed move as he sat down on it, and touched my face. I shied away, taking his hand and pushing it away quickly, and still, without looking at him, I moved across the sheets as far from him as I could.

He said something I couldn’t understand, and shifted closer to me. There was nowhere for me to run; I was cornered now, nothing but the wall behind me and nothing but him in front. *This . . . this is my fate. I’m to be a slave to these white-skinned barbarians. To these conquerors.* I felt him touch my chin, and he lifted my face up. I looked upon him again.

He was drawing even nearer to me, inch by inch. I saw the lust within his icy eyes as he gazed into mine. His face was hard and sharp, but he looked young, perhaps my age, though it was hard to tell with barbarians like him. He drew closer and I shut my eyes again. I felt his hot breath on my face, smelled the alcohol in it, and then his lips pressed hard against mine. I squirmed and squealed beneath him. *No! Get off! No!* I couldn’t say anything; his lips wouldn’t leave my mouth. He pinned my arms against the wall and smothered me with the weight of his barbarian body. I felt his heart beating fast against my chest. There was nothing for me to do. I was opened to his desire. I tried to ignore the tinge of pleasure I felt between my legs, and the heat building up in my face.

When he finally parted his lips from mine I was left gasping for breath. His eyes were soaked with desire as he looked down at me. He freed my arms, but I didn’t struggle; my limbs felt so weak. Quickly with his hands he unfastened the sash of my red dress and opened the top, exposing my breasts. He began to ravage me, kissing me wherever he wanted and running his strong pale hands up and down my trembling body.

“No . . . No . . . Please . . .” I whimpered quietly, but I knew he couldn’t understand me.

He gave me a reprieve for a moment, and I caught my breath. My hope of him being sated died when I saw him unfastening his own belt. He pulled off his cloak and tunic, revealing his toned, white body. A warrior’s body. A couple blue veins ran down his sturdy biceps, and even more down his forearms. He kept his pants on loosely, and went back to kissing me. I whimpered less this time; after all, this was all that there was. No one would come to save me now. It was just me and him . . . this Western invader.

I felt him touch my skirts, and I instinctively moved my hands to pull them up. A sting made my eyes water as he slapped them away and tore down my skirts, revealing my untouched nethers to him. My face burned so hot now. I felt so exposed. *I don’t even know his name—there’s no way for me to know—and this white man is about to deflower me and shame me and my whole family forever.*

“Not there—!”

Against myself, I shuttered and squeaked when I felt his fingers touching me down there. He seemed to enjoy that. I heard him groan in pleasure as he kissed my body and cupped my breast with his other hand. I lay there, helpless, as an invading warrior raped me in my parents’ own bed. The bed I was conceived in . . . Oh, my face burned with shame. He finally stopped, but that was only to go further.

His hands digging into my waist, he pulled my body back towards him. As he straddled over me, his bulging cock threatened to burst out of his loosely held trousers. I turned my head to the side, not wanting to look at the thing, but he took my head between his rough hands, squishing my cheeks, and made me look at it. It was inches from my face, but I still did nothing until he began to force my head even nearer.

Reluctantly I brought down his trousers, and his white manhood popped out right before me. His manly musk overpowered my senses, but I brought myself to touch it carefully with one hand. It was thick, and long, and I would’ve needed both hands if I wanted to grip the whole shaft. I had seen some naked men—only briefly, when I had gone to visit my father at the army’s camps—but I didn’t remember theirs looking anything close to this size. Afterwards one of my father’s advisors had even mentioned that I had excited them . . .

I didn’t know exactly what to do with it, so I wrapped my fingers around it, and started stroking slowly. He grunted and said something I couldn’t understand, seemingly amused, and then he shoved it into my face. I recoiled and spat dryly in revulsion, but he gripped my straight black hair and pulled, straining the roots. It hurt as he steadied my head, but I calmed down, and he slowly pressed the tip of his cock against my mouth, like I was kissing it. I did so, lightly licking the tip of it as I thought he wanted me to.

My eyes widened and I felt my mouth gush as he aggressively shoved his cock through my lips. He pushed my head against it, forcing it even deeper, and I began to understand what I needed to do. I went forward and back, as deep as I could take it into my mouth without gagging, and he let me do it without “guiding” me anymore. I couldn’t take the whole thing, but he didn’t seem to care as long as I kept sucking it. I looked up at him as I worked his veiny white cock. He stroked my hair and moaned lovingly, but the second his pale blue eyes met my gaze, I looked away.

His salty savage cock utterly filled my Eastern mouth. I tried to ignore the sticky fluid that seeped from it and focus on finishing this humiliating task. If I made sure he didn’t enter my lower parts, perhaps I could stay a little purer, and avoid bearing a mixed child. *Pregnant . . . I almost forgot . . . Oh, but I was supposed to wed an Eastern man and have his children . . .* I had to put that out of my mind. The humiliation would kill me if I was forced to bear an invader’s bastard.

Suddenly he pulled his cock out of my mouth, leaving a manly aftertaste as it went. Fluids dripped off of it onto the bed sheets. While I was attempting to recover, he took me by the waist and flipped me over onto my stomach, bending my knees, and making me raise my ass for him. I realized then what he was about to do, and sharply turned around to begin begging. “Please, sir—not in there! You can do anything else. I don’t want your children. Please! **Don’t—!**”

Wordlessly he slapped my ass, and I whimpered. Whimpers turned into tears and sobs when he pushed himself into me. Completely powerless, I felt him ruining me with his thick white cock, stretching and breaking my Eastern pussy as it slowly pressed deeper into me. I whimpered and cried, but he didn’t heed me. He was the conqueror, and I was the conquered.

It hurt; it simply hurt, and I wondered how deep it could go. Finally I felt his hard hips graze my ass as he entered me fully. He was now stuffing my pussy with his throbbing cock, and then he began to thrust, hard and harder as I sobbed into the lush bedsheets my parents once shared. He tightly gripped my hips, digging into them with his fingers while his body crashed into my ass with each violent thrust he made. The sound of his body striking mine drowned out everything else. I couldn’t even hear the victorious cries of the men in the streets anymore.

I squeaked when I felt the sting of his swift hand against my ass again. Without thinking I tried to push myself up, but he forcefully pushed me down without an ounce of effort. I was reduced to a foreign object for his savage pleasure, hopelessly pleading to him between gasps for relief—for him not to impregnate me. I was pleading to someone who couldn’t understand me anyways. My father had defeated this man’s people dozens of times in battle, and now I was his plaything. My kinship, my family’s wealth, my status and breeding—all that was worth nothing to him as he made me his conquered yellow-skinned whore. I felt a rush of wetness from my pussy as my breath quickened with the rate of his thrusts.

It was getting harder to breathe. My face felt hotter than a raging furnace. It felt like I was melting. My disheveled black hair was starting to stick to my forehead. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take until . . . until . . . *Oh, what is that? I feel . . . Fuck—! My mind is going numb . . . !*

He stopped after one last deep thrust, groaning with pleasure, but then he pulled out of me. My mind slowly brought itself out of the blinding tunnel it was about to enter, and I tried to breathe normally. The tears had stopped, but my eyes still felt so swollen. He hadn’t come yet, and I was thankful. Maybe he would do so on my body, or my face, anywhere but inside. I felt his wide hand softly caress my ass before he flipped me over again, onto my back. I couldn’t muster the energy to turn my head, so I looked up at him through my puffy eyes.

It was no wonder he was able to defeat my people. The lantern light softly lit his naked frame. His body was tightly formed, with broad shoulders, and he was so much larger than me in every way. His muscles, those of a warrior’s, were hard, and he wore a long scar which vertically slashed down the center of his waist. He gazed down at me with his dominant eyes. Those strange, pale-blue eyes, round like the Western savage he was. They seemed . . . knowing. Did he know how I felt? Everything? There was no way. *I don’t even know how I feel myself . . .*

As I lay trying to catch my breath, I looked down at my own body. My small breasts glistened with sweat from the lantern light. My dark nipples were hard, something I didn’t expect. I saw a small amount of blood had seeped from my pussy onto the sheets. That worried me, but I had heard it was normal. I touched myself, and felt a wetness I never had before. I swiftly took them away.

He lowered down on top of me, and kissed me. I didn’t squirm this time, or squeal; I just took it. I even reciprocated, though I didn’t know why. When we parted he whispered something to me. His language was soft and flowing, and I liked hearing it. I didn’t know what he was saying, but the words sounded comforting, and not hateful. I felt like . . . like his wife at that moment. I wanted to tell him something, anything, so I started with my name.

“Fu-Fushen . . .” I whispered, gazing deeply into his pale eyes. It felt so wrong, but so good.

He smiled and slid into me again. He began to thrust slowly as he took my hand. Moaning as his white cock delved into my Eastern, yellow, conquered cunt. It felt like I was coming nearer to that feeling again. That exciting, melting, uncontrollable feeling. I wanted him to fuck me harder, to take me however he wanted. He let go of my hand and nestled my face into his wide chest, like he had done before when he captured me. I felt his racing heart, and a thousand kisses placed upon my head through my hair as he sped up and pounded into me. I belonged to him now. A yellow noblewoman beneath the body of a victorious white warrior.

My heart was beating so fast. My face felt hotter than it ever had been before. I smelled his manly Western scent. I didn’t like it before, but now I breathed it in deeply, unable to get enough of it. I felt the sweat of his chest against my face, his strong arms around me, and his virile white cock pumping into me. I heard his moans in my ear, the desirable sound of his pleasure. My mind was afire, and I wrapped my arms and legs around his tight body, trying to hold him as closely as I could. He was thrusting harder and harder, forcing himself deeper into my fertile pussy, conquering it like he conquered my village.

My yellow pussy clenched around his unrelenting white cock, and I came. Urged on, he kept going harder than ever as I thrashed and moaned underneath him. *I want him to come in me. He won and he has a right to fuck me and make me his yellow whore. I want his white seed to rape my untouched womb and leave me bearing his child—a white child. One that has his eyes and his stature and his strength. Do it! Rape me! Fuck me harder you invading, murdering, woman-snatching brute! Ravage me and breed me until I have your gorgeous child growing inside my belly. Shoot your white cum inside my yellow cunt!*

I felt his body clench and his heart race harder than ever. He grunted through his teeth, squeezing me tightly against his body as he came inside my young fertile womb. He was breeding me, branding me and making me take his conquering seed. His cock twitched inside of me while he kissed me harder than he had before. Entwined as one, I kissed him with equal intensity and roughly caressed his head, running my fingers through his beautiful blond hair. I could feel his pleasure—his rough kiss on my lips and his cum shooting inside me, marking me and breeding me—and I melted. My body and my mind were both his.

When he was finished he simply laid atop me, his white body pressed against mine. He lightly touched me wherever he wanted and kissed my breasts as I held him close to my bosom. His cock slowly softened inside of me, having done its job in claiming me for him. Cleaving to each other, we both breathed heavily, slowly calming down as we enjoyed the afterglow.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/m3yuvo/taken_by_the_fair_conquerors_mf_nc_impreg