Ravaging Orléans - Chapter 1

A gentle throbbing filled his mind. These were whispers of an outside force acting upon him, slowly working its way past his mental defenses. He had to focus on something else. His name was Duran Loiseau. The throbbing grew stronger. He was sitting down, both arms latched to the wooden corner post of a bed behind him. The blood within his body churned as he felt the throbbing progress. This was a bout of meditation in the face of adversity, but there was only so much he could take. Duran emitted a deep breath and forced his senses to the bare limit. After a brief moment of silence, he picked up the sound of tightly drawn planks creaking all around him. He was beneath the decks of an ocean-faring vessel. With another breath, the throbbing slowed. This was the eighth day of his voyage, just one day outside of his destination. He was on a mission to rescue a prisoner of war. Duran found success in these distractions until a female voice rung throughout the cabin. “What purpose could this possibly have?” An unnatural sense of pride seeped out alongside her words, almost as much as the natural French accent that afflicted her speech.

Duran cracked open his right eye, making immediate contact with a cluster of feminine toes hovering before his face. He looked past these beautiful feet, following a pair of unclothed legs until he reached the gorgeous blonde-haired woman sitting on a stool in front of him. This was Olivia Thale, the twenty year-old daughter of a prosperous French noble. But however much of a noble she was, Olivia was just as much a ship captain and freelance brigand, with the occasional hot streak for pursuing lusty relationships. She was dressed with tight, practical leather clothing. One such piece clung to her torso, while a pair of matching trousers was bundled up upon the floor. Her visible underwear was of an obviously gallant origin, as multiple designs sewn into the fabric highlighted the red linen it was composed of. A flowing, blood-red scarf adorned her bare waist as a makeshift sash. Were it not for her exquisite hygiene and natural sense for fashion, Olivia would be recognized as an aspiring pirate.

Forced to drop his guise of seriousness, Duran glanced down to meet the bare feet obscuring his vision. “I told you before, this is my only weakness. If I can withstand such intense pressures, then I’ll never find myself at the mercy of a seductress. That’s a miracle within itself for a man.” Although he was successful in fighting off the urges during his meditation, he could feel the throbbing return. His foot fetish was far from discreet, but it was especially prominent when he was in Olivia’s presence. Duran was a gentleman, and after twenty-five years of life, he knew how to treat women. These two met at a dockyard, as Olivia was overseeing the repairs of her ship after a hostile engagement at sea. He learned that Olivia was acting as a privateer, hired by the Kingdom of France to trade English trade routes in place of her father. On the other hand, she learned that Duran was looking for a capable ship and even more capable crew to man it. True to her infamous fondness for intimate relations, Olivia spent the night with him. It wasn’t long before she learned of his foot fetish. She was more than willing to play along.

“No amount of meditation is going to save you from sword or cannon.” Olivia seemed content with this response for a moment, but was keen on taking advantage of such an interesting situation. A nobleman at the mercy of a noblewoman – the entire thought seemed impossible, but here it was. Duran had morals, and would not grovel for pleasure. However, he was not immune to persuasion. “This training of yours seems like just another excuse to get at my feet.” Olivia didn’t seem disappointed by this possibility in the least. In fact, as a sly grin appeared upon her face, it seemed quite the opposite. She brought both of her feet down to bear upon his face, clasping his nose between her naked soles.

“Well, there’s no denying the perks, but this isn’t the time to play around.” Duran insisted, but there was no stopping Olivia now. He looked down beside the chair Olivia sat upon, eyeing a pair of fancy cavalier boots with an inscription laden upon the side. Likely a gift from her father, they were inscripted with ‘Memento Vivere’ – to never forget how to live. These words were paramount to how this young woman spent her days, and as it stood, there was no better conduit for Duran to receive such a message. Olivia had worn these boots for the better part of the day, and he could already sense the pleasing aroma veering off her warm skin. Duran had to breathe eventually. This was her intention.

The moments passed as both parties waited, biding the seconds until the unavoidable happened. Duran was forced to inhale. A burst of fresh air flowed in-between Olivia’s bare soles, picking up much of the lustful scent that he feared to breathe. This air flowed into his lungs, corrupting Duran from the inside. He struggled to contain the pleasure that turned his mind into a writhing pile of bliss, as he felt his pulse rise to keep up with his body’s level of excitement. The smell of Olivia’s bare soles stimulated him in ways he could never imagine. She would deprive her feet of fresh air for days at a time, keeping them locked inside those stuffy cavalier boots until it was time to play. He never had any complaints.

Olivia had a mindset for control, and this was exactly what she was trying to do. “You’re no common sell-sword. Maybe you should appreciate the life you’ve got, before you go thinking about anything else.” These words were molded in a way that Duran could never deny, as she continued to apply the type of pleasure that he sought. He was prepared to take another breath, this time with no objections. Duran nuzzled his nose deeper into the crevice in-between Olivia’s feet. This was the response that Olivia was hoping for, so she raised the bar for their playtime. She cradled the entryway to his nostrils with the underside of her toes. It was clear that the scent here was exceptionally strong. With an intrepid mind and closed eyes, Duran accepted this gracious offering with a deep lungful of air. The scent of Olivia’s toes had exceeded his expectations, and it overwhelmed him. Duran struggled to contain a series of pleasurable shivers before releasing the burst hot air through his mouth. He let out and elongated sigh alongside the hot air, forming a cry of mixed emotions. Whether or not Duran enjoyed these moments, he knew that Olivia had a rather brazen personality. She had zero intention of stopping, especially when Duran was at her mercy like this.

“You’re a deviant little minx, aren’t you?” Duran grinned, offering his own set of words to this maturing seductress. Such a remark seemed like a surprise to Olivia, as she let out a brief giggle. “I’ve heard people call me a lot of things, but a ‘minx’ isn’t one of them.” Olivia removed both of her feet from his face. However, before Duran could breathe a sigh of relief, her left foot returned as she slipped her toes directly into his mouth. “Now, shush. Doesn’t your mouth have something more important to be doing right about now?” The persuasiveness of her words caused Duran to pause, until his hesitation was offset by the powerful flavor that graced his tongue.

Duran cherished this opportunity, as he made slow, passionate laps at the underside of her toes. This was the raw essence of Olivia’s feet. If there was ever a way to experience the culmination of everything this young woman had been through these last few days, it was like this. While his mind soaked up the pleasure, Olivia brought her right foot down to Duran’s groin. She placed her foot along the length of his erection, grinding her slender heel against the base of this sensitive extremity. Duran emitted a series of vocal whimpers in protest, but to no benefit. Upon opening his eyes, he noticed that Olivia had slipped one of her hands under the hem of her vibrant, red underwear. Her hand gyrated back and forth beneath the extravagant fabric, mimicking the movements of her foot. She was lost to the moment, focused only on commanding the pleasure that filled their bodies. Their heavy breathing seemed to intertwine with one another, as Duran closed his eyes. He smirked, concluding his protest with a stunning revelation – Olivia was enjoying this as much as he was.

- - -

Fifteen minutes after the torture, Duran still felt the lustful sensations plaguing his mind and body. He found his way out onto the ship deck and took in a deep breath. The ocean breeze carried a refreshing scent that restored his concentration. Olivia’s crew was manning the ship, pulling at various lengths of cord to ease the taut masts driving this ship forward through the water. Ethnicity, gender and age did not seem to matter among this group of sailors – their only driving force was to do their job well. Duran made the correct decision to recruit them and Olivia to his cause.

A thought clung to Duran’s mind, as he marched towards the edge of the ship. He clung to a railing, staring out into the endless, blue oceanscape. His plans were being set in motion, and it was only a matter of time before his ambitions would be realized. Before Duran could labor on these thoughts, Olivia slipped onto the deck and strolled up behind him. She didn’t want to ruin the silence, so she reared up against the railing beside Duran. After a few more moments, she ran her hand down the length of Duran’s outstretched arm and clasped her fingers to the thin fabric that made up his shirt. These were intimate actions – something that Olivia thought would be acceptable after exchanging such passion beneath the decks. She may have taken advantage of him, but it was a consensual affair. At least, that was what Olivia thought. She seemed unusually vulnerable tonight.

“You should not blame yourself for what happened there. It was a pleasure to be at your feet.” Duran stated these words with a resounding, unabated boldness. This was the truth, and Olivia needed to know. However, it seemed that Duran had misjudged the situation.

“That’s not what I was worried about.” Olivia turned to him, continuing with a soft murmur of words. “Behind every great man, they say there is an even stronger woman. Is it still possible for me to be that woman, for you?” She looked up at Duran, her eyes glowing with a mixture of shyness and affection that he wasn’t expecting. Olivia was thinking about the future – or more specifically – about a future with Duran. This young woman had fallen for him, and reveled in the unique brand of pleasure he could bring into her life. Responding to this question, in either direction, would compromise the success of this mission. He gave the answer another moment of thought. Olivia would not commit to this mission without an incentive, and she wanted Duran to be that reward. There was only one viable answer left.

“Please, allow me to answer that question after our mission.” His words were deep, and he paused multiple times during its delivery to give emphasis to the seriousness of this response. Olivia had to settle for this. Despite their rather minimal difference of age, Olivia was a child in comparison to Duran. However, Olivia made up for this fact through sheer forcefulness, as was displayed moments after hearing his response. “I can wait, but I hope you like the smell of my feet. After all, you’ll be seeing them every night until I get that answer out of you.” Olivia reinforced her message with a mischievous grin, as she pushed off from the railing and returned to the lower decks. A vacuum of silence was generated by her exit. Duran turned back to the boundless ocean, a thought crossing his mind shortly afterward. He did enjoy the scent of Olivia's feet.

- - -

The date was June 15th, 1430.

A massive conflict that was nearing the length of a hundred years was being waged across the landscape of the feudal Kingdom of France. Their combatants in this war were a stalwart group of rebels who opposed the inheritance of the crown, the Rebels of Burgundy and their allies the Kingdom of England. The French had suffered several embarrassing losses at the hand of superior English tactics. This humiliating trend ended with the arrival of Joan of Arc, the Maiden of Orléans, who inspired a bout of critical victories that effectively turned the tide of the war. She inspired the people of France and made a name for herself as a cunning military leader, despite her young age of nineteen.

It was less than a month ago that the country heard news of her capture at the hands of the Burgundian rebels. In any normal situation where nobles were captured, they would be ransomed back to their country of origin. This, however, was not a normal situation. The French king that supported her was dethroned shortly after her capture, and installed in his place was another from an opposing political faction. The Maiden of Orléans was left in enemy hands, despite much protest from the friends she made during her brief career in the military. She needed rescue, but it could not be spared. The war had to continue, as she was left to rot away in the cells of an English-controlled prison.

This was where Duran came in. Under the guise of raiding English waters for merchant ships, he received much private funding from French nobles who were required to contribute to the war-effort. No one told him to undergo such a perilous mission – to rescue a woman held prisoner deep into enemy territory. The only reason he had such resolve was because he understood the effect of taking an effective military commander out of the war. The English weren’t going to let their multiple defeats at her hands go. Without aid, she would die, and Duran refused to let her experience such a cold fate. 

It was a tall order, but Duran assembled a team worthy of taking on this challenge. He had a ship, an experienced crew, and the ever-resourceful Olivia Thale on his side. Each of these assets would prove fundamental for his success, as the group reached the coast of northern France. Their target was the city wherein the French heroine was imprisoned – Rouen.