A/N: Well, finally got back home to finish this off - sorry about the
wait! I thought I'd lost this as my disk got wet on the way home, but,
luckily, it's OK. Writing this give you a certain sense of power - poor Mr
Rickman has to do *everything* I say!
********************************
His finger stroked relentlessly, the waves of ecstasy increasing until I came, screaming loudly. When I had finally stopped shuddering and my eyes re-focused, I saw the Sheriff laughing down at me. He gathered me up and threw me down on the bed. He began ripping off his clothes, growling and shouting in aggravation as he got tangled up in his impatience. Giggling, I had to help him extricate himself.
I gave a moan as I gazed upon his body. He was tanned and muscular, with wide shoulders and powerful thighs. Unthinkingly, I wrapped my legs around his waist, rubbing myself against his smooth torso, and begged him to come inside me.
"Not yet." he snarled, and suddenly flipped me over. I felt him straddle me and his rough hands began working their way over my back. It felt heavenly. I buried my face in the pillow, which carried the strong musky scent of him. I moaned in pleasure as his hands dug deeper into my flesh, creeping round to caress my breasts.
He leaned down to whisper in my ear as he tweaked a nipple.
"Just you wait. you're going to love it, Sarah. oh yes, I am going to make you scream."
I screamed then in frustration, I wanted him so badly. "Oh please, now."
He slowly rolled me on to my back again, and leaned back, a smile of satisfaction inching over his face. My heart crashing in my chest I waited. He took me completely by surprise, impaling me upon him as I gave a shriek. He was wild, like an animal, I feared the bed would break. Tears of agonised ecstasy rolled down my cheeks as I called his name over and over again. He was wonderful, he made me feel like a Goddess as he drove on and on, taking me to places I have never known before.
"OH MY GOODNESS!" I yelled, my cry mingling with his own roar of pleasure as we climaxed together.
We lay panting on the bed with him on top of me. My hands roved over his taut muscled back in wonderment. He climbed off me and wrapped his cloak about him. He opened the door then gave a snarl of irritation as he realised he'd forgotten to put his clothes on underneath. He tugged them on then his hand burrowed under the bed clothes to come to rest between my legs.
"Keep yourself on ice." And he was gone.
*
I had lain there in his bed writhing in desire and longing, reliving the glorious moment we had shared, and willing him to return as soon as possible. It seemed like an eternity before he entered the room again, and he was so impatient to get started on me straight away. We made love until we were too physically drained to carry on.
The Sheriff of Nottingham and I made love all over the castle, often with the risk of several Norman soldiers bursting in on us. He would tie me to the bed and explore my body all over with his tongue, playing with me for hours. He would take me from behind as I kneeled on all fours before him, making me feel deliciously dirty. He would chase me round and round Nottingham castle, then spank my bottom mercilessly when he caught me. At the end of the night he would fall asleep on top of me, and I would remain awake for several moments longer, stroking his hair tenderly as he lay upon my bosom.
*
Lost in my own world of bliss, I had forgotten Little John and the others. But the day of their execution eventually came round, and I discovered that the Maid Marion was in situ, and even worse, that she was betrothed to my Sheriff. She was to sit at his side for the hanging, forced to watch our friends die a slow and agonizing death. The Sheriff of Nottingham was exceptionally cruel, that was part of what made him such an amazing lover.
Ensconced in one of Nottingham castle's towers, peeping through the tiny slit of a window, I silently cheered on Robin, the Easterner and my own great friend Friar Tuck as they heroically freed the captives. The brave outlaws caused so much disturbance that the Sheriff was able to whisk my Lady back into the castle unnoticed. That is, except by me.
I crept down the stairs and followed the Sheriff and the maiden. To my horror, he took her into the chapel, where the priest - the same priest who had provided my treacherous riding companion, I noticed - was already waiting. I slipped into an alcove where I could remain undetected. My Lady Marion was whimpering in terror as the Sheriff, his face twisted with cruelty, forced her to the ground. Clasping my hands together I prayed for Robin and the others to come quickly and save my mistress.
I jumped as a thundering Boom shook the castle. Robin and the Easterner were using a statue of the Sheriff to break the door down. Inside, the hurried ceremony was drawing to a close, and the Maid Marion's hideous fate was almost sealed. Wringing my hands I silently willed the door to break. Seconds later the heavy oak door crashed down, and Robin of Locksley, hastily followed by the outlaws, burst in on the scene. I barely restrained my glee as the good Friar pushed the terrified priest out of the window - I was reduced to stuffing my fist in my mouth to stifle the laughter. But the laughter turned to fear as I watched both men draw their swords. I was terrified for my friends and my Lady, and I also feared for my lover. The swords clashed in fury and the Sheriff was getting more and more enraged. His rage cost him. I sank to my knees in silent horror as Locksley plunged his blade into my Sheriff's chest.
I then noticed a huddled figure out in the corridor. It was the crone, Mortiana. Reverting to my practical senses I rummaged in my robe for the potion that I bought off the local medicine woman. I always carry it with me. It's powers of heeling are incredibly potent, so there was still a chance of healing him, if I got it to him in time. Trembling, I revealed myself before the witch. She revolted me, but I had no time to quibble on that. Fighting down the rising waves of panic, I grabbed her arm, and thrust the potion into her hands.
Her eyes were rolling madly "The painted man, the painted man..." she was whispering over and over again, demented by awe and terror.
I shook her roughly, my panic mounting. "Control yourself witch! Give this to the Sheriff, it will restore him - hurry!"
She wriggled and tried to break free from my grip. "No, the painted man, the painted man! My dreams -"
"I don't give a bugger about your dreams old crone!" I hissed, dragging her savagely to her feet. "You've got to save him, please." I collapsed to the floor, unable to hold back my sobbing any longer. Mortiana's eyes fell on the small dagger I kept by my side, and her bloodshot eyes lit up with a sudden evil passion. I threw it at her and she snatched it, and still holding my potion in her other hand she flew into the chapel hissing and spitting in fury. The Easterner seized his chance. Withdrawing a bizarre and vicious-looking blade, he drew back his arm and the weapon whizzed through the air, and landed deep in the old woman's heart. With a last strangled choke, the hag dropped to the floor in a pool of her own black blood. The vial containing the potion that would save the life of my beloved smashed on the floor, the precious liquid draining uselessly onto the stone.
*
I was not given the chance to grieve, unable even to lay my hand upon the brow of my dead lover. As soon as the old crone fell Robin of Locksley grabbed the Maid Marion and the two rushed joyfully out of the chapel picking up me along the way. Flushed and giddy after their brush with death and subsequent victory, they were in exceedingly high spirits. I was swept along with them, chattering and laughing, and I pushed my sorrow to one side and allowed myself to share the relief that we were all safe.
We emerged into the daylight to ringing cheers. I couldn't help but feel joy on such an occasion. The tyranny of Nottingham was over, Little John and the rest of the outlaws were free, and I was back amongst friends. I joined in the festivities, dancing and singing with all my heart. The love and pure happiness of my young mistress and her sweetheart was infectious. I breathed in the scents of Sherwood forest, savouring the sweet smell of freedom.
*
The owl had reached King Richard the Lion-Heart, and he returned to restore order to the province of Nottingham, and appointing a new Sheriff. He attended the wedding of my Lady and Robin of Locksley to see the Houses of DuBois and Locksley renew their ties. The ceremony was performed by my friend, Friar Tuck. Afterwards during the merriment, he offered me a jug of ale, putting his arm around my waist and giving me a squeeze. I accepted the drink, but withdrew from him. I am not ready yet.
****
Well, what did you think? My first draft of the ending was so upsetting that I was depressed for ages afterwards. So I changed it to give a more positive angle. Sarah is still grieving over the Sheriff of Nottingham, but she values the safety of her friends and the freedom of the people more. Ultimately she knows it was best for him to die, and she is for the most part happy. However, she will never forget him.
********************************
His finger stroked relentlessly, the waves of ecstasy increasing until I came, screaming loudly. When I had finally stopped shuddering and my eyes re-focused, I saw the Sheriff laughing down at me. He gathered me up and threw me down on the bed. He began ripping off his clothes, growling and shouting in aggravation as he got tangled up in his impatience. Giggling, I had to help him extricate himself.
I gave a moan as I gazed upon his body. He was tanned and muscular, with wide shoulders and powerful thighs. Unthinkingly, I wrapped my legs around his waist, rubbing myself against his smooth torso, and begged him to come inside me.
"Not yet." he snarled, and suddenly flipped me over. I felt him straddle me and his rough hands began working their way over my back. It felt heavenly. I buried my face in the pillow, which carried the strong musky scent of him. I moaned in pleasure as his hands dug deeper into my flesh, creeping round to caress my breasts.
He leaned down to whisper in my ear as he tweaked a nipple.
"Just you wait. you're going to love it, Sarah. oh yes, I am going to make you scream."
I screamed then in frustration, I wanted him so badly. "Oh please, now."
He slowly rolled me on to my back again, and leaned back, a smile of satisfaction inching over his face. My heart crashing in my chest I waited. He took me completely by surprise, impaling me upon him as I gave a shriek. He was wild, like an animal, I feared the bed would break. Tears of agonised ecstasy rolled down my cheeks as I called his name over and over again. He was wonderful, he made me feel like a Goddess as he drove on and on, taking me to places I have never known before.
"OH MY GOODNESS!" I yelled, my cry mingling with his own roar of pleasure as we climaxed together.
We lay panting on the bed with him on top of me. My hands roved over his taut muscled back in wonderment. He climbed off me and wrapped his cloak about him. He opened the door then gave a snarl of irritation as he realised he'd forgotten to put his clothes on underneath. He tugged them on then his hand burrowed under the bed clothes to come to rest between my legs.
"Keep yourself on ice." And he was gone.
*
I had lain there in his bed writhing in desire and longing, reliving the glorious moment we had shared, and willing him to return as soon as possible. It seemed like an eternity before he entered the room again, and he was so impatient to get started on me straight away. We made love until we were too physically drained to carry on.
The Sheriff of Nottingham and I made love all over the castle, often with the risk of several Norman soldiers bursting in on us. He would tie me to the bed and explore my body all over with his tongue, playing with me for hours. He would take me from behind as I kneeled on all fours before him, making me feel deliciously dirty. He would chase me round and round Nottingham castle, then spank my bottom mercilessly when he caught me. At the end of the night he would fall asleep on top of me, and I would remain awake for several moments longer, stroking his hair tenderly as he lay upon my bosom.
*
Lost in my own world of bliss, I had forgotten Little John and the others. But the day of their execution eventually came round, and I discovered that the Maid Marion was in situ, and even worse, that she was betrothed to my Sheriff. She was to sit at his side for the hanging, forced to watch our friends die a slow and agonizing death. The Sheriff of Nottingham was exceptionally cruel, that was part of what made him such an amazing lover.
Ensconced in one of Nottingham castle's towers, peeping through the tiny slit of a window, I silently cheered on Robin, the Easterner and my own great friend Friar Tuck as they heroically freed the captives. The brave outlaws caused so much disturbance that the Sheriff was able to whisk my Lady back into the castle unnoticed. That is, except by me.
I crept down the stairs and followed the Sheriff and the maiden. To my horror, he took her into the chapel, where the priest - the same priest who had provided my treacherous riding companion, I noticed - was already waiting. I slipped into an alcove where I could remain undetected. My Lady Marion was whimpering in terror as the Sheriff, his face twisted with cruelty, forced her to the ground. Clasping my hands together I prayed for Robin and the others to come quickly and save my mistress.
I jumped as a thundering Boom shook the castle. Robin and the Easterner were using a statue of the Sheriff to break the door down. Inside, the hurried ceremony was drawing to a close, and the Maid Marion's hideous fate was almost sealed. Wringing my hands I silently willed the door to break. Seconds later the heavy oak door crashed down, and Robin of Locksley, hastily followed by the outlaws, burst in on the scene. I barely restrained my glee as the good Friar pushed the terrified priest out of the window - I was reduced to stuffing my fist in my mouth to stifle the laughter. But the laughter turned to fear as I watched both men draw their swords. I was terrified for my friends and my Lady, and I also feared for my lover. The swords clashed in fury and the Sheriff was getting more and more enraged. His rage cost him. I sank to my knees in silent horror as Locksley plunged his blade into my Sheriff's chest.
I then noticed a huddled figure out in the corridor. It was the crone, Mortiana. Reverting to my practical senses I rummaged in my robe for the potion that I bought off the local medicine woman. I always carry it with me. It's powers of heeling are incredibly potent, so there was still a chance of healing him, if I got it to him in time. Trembling, I revealed myself before the witch. She revolted me, but I had no time to quibble on that. Fighting down the rising waves of panic, I grabbed her arm, and thrust the potion into her hands.
Her eyes were rolling madly "The painted man, the painted man..." she was whispering over and over again, demented by awe and terror.
I shook her roughly, my panic mounting. "Control yourself witch! Give this to the Sheriff, it will restore him - hurry!"
She wriggled and tried to break free from my grip. "No, the painted man, the painted man! My dreams -"
"I don't give a bugger about your dreams old crone!" I hissed, dragging her savagely to her feet. "You've got to save him, please." I collapsed to the floor, unable to hold back my sobbing any longer. Mortiana's eyes fell on the small dagger I kept by my side, and her bloodshot eyes lit up with a sudden evil passion. I threw it at her and she snatched it, and still holding my potion in her other hand she flew into the chapel hissing and spitting in fury. The Easterner seized his chance. Withdrawing a bizarre and vicious-looking blade, he drew back his arm and the weapon whizzed through the air, and landed deep in the old woman's heart. With a last strangled choke, the hag dropped to the floor in a pool of her own black blood. The vial containing the potion that would save the life of my beloved smashed on the floor, the precious liquid draining uselessly onto the stone.
*
I was not given the chance to grieve, unable even to lay my hand upon the brow of my dead lover. As soon as the old crone fell Robin of Locksley grabbed the Maid Marion and the two rushed joyfully out of the chapel picking up me along the way. Flushed and giddy after their brush with death and subsequent victory, they were in exceedingly high spirits. I was swept along with them, chattering and laughing, and I pushed my sorrow to one side and allowed myself to share the relief that we were all safe.
We emerged into the daylight to ringing cheers. I couldn't help but feel joy on such an occasion. The tyranny of Nottingham was over, Little John and the rest of the outlaws were free, and I was back amongst friends. I joined in the festivities, dancing and singing with all my heart. The love and pure happiness of my young mistress and her sweetheart was infectious. I breathed in the scents of Sherwood forest, savouring the sweet smell of freedom.
*
The owl had reached King Richard the Lion-Heart, and he returned to restore order to the province of Nottingham, and appointing a new Sheriff. He attended the wedding of my Lady and Robin of Locksley to see the Houses of DuBois and Locksley renew their ties. The ceremony was performed by my friend, Friar Tuck. Afterwards during the merriment, he offered me a jug of ale, putting his arm around my waist and giving me a squeeze. I accepted the drink, but withdrew from him. I am not ready yet.
****
Well, what did you think? My first draft of the ending was so upsetting that I was depressed for ages afterwards. So I changed it to give a more positive angle. Sarah is still grieving over the Sheriff of Nottingham, but she values the safety of her friends and the freedom of the people more. Ultimately she knows it was best for him to die, and she is for the most part happy. However, she will never forget him.