Ay: Ekim 2025

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“How are we going to sort this out?” June looked at Pixie.

“I think we just did,” Pixie giggled.

June grinned.

“I suppose we just did. You know, you are amazing!”

“Snap!” Pixie said, “I was just going to say that. I don’t think that we need, even if we could, to try to fit into some model of dominant and submissive.”

“But you are incredibly submissive, darling, letting me expose that cute ass to Bobbi. Oh, and just so you know, I did not really want to go that far – your ass is mine – but at that moment, well, you know!”

Pixie nodded, marvelling at how well they seemed to understand each other.

“Oh my!” Pixie began.

“Are you, I never, oh!” June collapsed as Pixie said:

“I never asked, do you have a girlfriend?”

“I was only going to say that to you,” June said, “maybe we should just complete each other’s sentences and have done with it. And the answer is no, I am fancy free. You?”

Pixie’s face lost its grin for a moment, and June, looking at her, feared the worst.

“I was,” Pixie began, “but…”

“Now you are MINE!” June finished the sentence, much to Pixie’s glee.

“I can’t even tease you!” Pixie protested, “it’s not fair!”

“Oh leave the teasing to me darling, I have an advanced diploma in it. But really, you are free of others?”

“Yes,” Pixie said.

“So?” June’s voice suddenly lost some of its confidence, which did not go unnoticed by Pixie.

“Can I be your girlfriend?” Pixie asked.

“I was going to ask you that,” June said. “The answer is yes, if I can be yours.”

“Settled then!” Pixie laughed.

But June, being June and the practical one, added swiftly:

“How’s this going to work? I think you said you were in London, and I am up here, and I doubt long-distance relationships can work.”

“Hey,” said Pixie, “can I get a squeak in?”

“Okay, little one,” June joked, sensing that Pixie quite liked mention being made of her height, or lack thereof.

“Yes, I live in London – at least for now.”

“Sure,” said June, her mood turning darker as reality began to burst her bubble. Pixie was some kind of posh girl from London, she, June, was just a rough northern tart. How foolish of her to assume, even for a moment that they could be a “thing.”

“Well,” said Pixie, “I just accepted voluntary redundancy from my uni, they need to save money by culling staff, and as, unlike others, I can manage without the salary, I decided to go. So, I am looking, as they say, for other things.”

“Wow!” June exclaimed. “Geeze, you’re one of those brainy nerds. I better warn you, I left school at eighteen and never went to college or uni. Hey, hang on, what are you saying?”

It suddenly hit June that Pixie had just broken the pin that was threatening to burst her bubble.

“I’m saying that I could find somewhere to live up here and rent my London flat out at a good profit. It’s cheaper to live here – and,” Pixie added, “someone I love lives here.”

June, who never used what she called “the L word” lightly, looked hard at Pixie.

“Pix, you’ve known me scarcely twenty-four hours, isn’t it a bit premature to use that word?”

“Well,” Pixie said, looking into June’s eyes, “I could lie and say I like you a whole lot – I do, but that’s so not expressing it.”

Even as Pixie was speaking, it came to June.

“Sod it! If you love me, I love you more!”

“That’s only because you are bigger than me.”

“Well,” said June with heartfelt emotion, “it’s what’s inside, not what’s outside that matters – but for the record, I think you are the cutest thing I ever saw.”

“Why, thank you, Miss,” Pixie said, leaning in to kiss her lover. “And you are gorgeous.”

“I know,” said June, “NOT!”

“Don’t you go dissing my girlfriend,” Pixie giggled, pretending to be indignant.

“So,” June said, “you’d move up here?”

“Yes,” Pixie said, firmly, “I have friends in London, but I can always see them, and my mother lives in East Anglia as does my sister, so I am no further away from them.”

“You have a sister?” June asked?

“Yes, older, prettier and sexier, and hands off, she’s spoken for. She’s married to the man of my mother’s plans, a rich banker called, appropriately, Rich. But annoyingly, he is not only good-looking, if you like that sort of thing, but he’s a nice man and a good dad to their little son, Leo.”

“Geeze,” June exhaled, so there’s a clan? I am an only child, and there is just me and my mum.”

“No dad?”

“We don’t konya escort talk about him, they are divorced. And you?”

“More or less the same, though they are still married. He lives in Hamburg with his Mistress who is twenty-five.”

“Oh, I better watch out then,” June joked.

“Well, let’s see, you are female, attractive and under thirty-five, so watch out.”

“Oh I don’t do men.”

“Nor did his previous girlfriend. He has an effect on knicker elastic – he is a photographer and artist.”

“Fair warning,” June said. “So he’s German, hence the surname?”

“He is, and quite well known in his field.”

“Well you are obviously not short of money, and pretty posh with it – are you sure you want to be with a common girl like me?”

“What was that you said about appearances and it being the person within who mattered?” Pixie said, kissing her as they lay there.

“Fair play,” June said, “but would you really move up here for me?”

“Well, I wouldn’t for anyone else, so yes!”

And that was how, June reflected as she lay there, it had all begun. She looked at Pixie as she lay there next to her. That night at the hotel had been a special one – the first of many. She smiled to herself as she recollected the next morning which had brought the first of quite a few surprises.

She and Pixie had drifted off in each other’s arms, exhausted by the emotional and physical toll which the evening had brought.

June had woken first and ordered a light breakfast. When it arrived, she had woken Pixie. She thought back, remembering as though it was yesterday.

Pixie woke, momentarily wondering two things, where she was and why her whole body seemed to ache?

“Coffee and a croissant my love?”

She looked up to see a clean June in her bathrobe. She smiled, appreciating the care and love being shown to her.

“Please, and thank you.”

“You’re always so well-manned darling.”

“Well, Mama always said good manners cost nothing!”

“You call your mum Mama?”

“Of course, she’d give me the death stare if I called her mum.”

“How’s she going to cope with me, or am I to be your dirty little secret?”

“Oh she disapproves of my sexuality, is sure it’s only because I have not met the right man. And yours? By the way, I never asked, are you bi?”

“Mum’s fine. I did once have a boyfriend, once being the operative word and the friend thing being inoperative. How about you?”

“Boys? Yuk!” Pixie said. “All girls’ school and college sorted that out, darling. No, I am a girl’s girl. Thanks for the coffee, I begin to feel awake – that,” she smiled, “was quite the night. Now darling, as the local expert, where can I find a church?”

Whatever June had been expecting, it was not that.

“A church?”

“Yes, big building, towers or spires optional, full of vicars and old ladies with hats, go to them on Sundays, you know that sort of thing!”

“But, Pix, you’re a lesbian?”

Pixie grinned.

“Glad you noticed,” she leant in and kissed her. “Guilty as charged. And I am a lesbian who goes to church.”

“But I thought churches did not approve of lesbians.”

“Oh darling,” Pixie smiled, “when was the last time you went to a church?”

“That would be the next time which would be the first time. I’ve never been. You, you believe in all that?”

“All that?” Pixie giggles, “oh yes darling, but don’t worry, I am not one of those running about trying to convert others and saying I am saved and that sort of thing.”

“Glad to hear that,” June said, “but if you are saved, why not go on about it?”

“Well, darling, entre nous, it was a close-run thing, so one doesn’t want to boast!”

June broke into laugher.

I am going to have to get a dictionary, I can see that. Short answer love, is I have no idea.”

“Oh well,” said Pixie, typing something into her phone, “there’s St John’s about half a mile away and they have a Eucharist at eleven, so plenty of time yet. What time do you have to get home darling?”

June looked at Pixie with amazement.

“You are going to church, after last night?”

“Oh yes, what else would one do after all that sinning?”

“I give up!” June grinned. “I have to work tonight at the restaurant. What time’s your train?”

“Well, as the conference was paying, I have an open return. I have to check out of here at noon, but other than that, I am my own boss – Boss,” she laughed. “I can see if I can book another night.”

“Pix, konya escort bayan would it be too soon to spend the night at mine? When do you have to be back in London?”

“No, and let me check.”

Pixie checked her diary and replied:

“I have an appointment on Tuesday afternoon, but am free otherwise. If I can wash a few things at yours, I can stay till Tuesday.”

“I guess you’ve run out of panties, slut!”

“And whose fault is that?” Pixie smiled, kissing June.

Pixie showered and they went down for more breakfast. There was a silence, but a companionable one.

“Are you sure, Pix?” June asked when they were settled.

“Of what? That I love you? Yes. That you love me? Yes. That this is going to work? Yes.”

“You sound very certain.”

“No point being half-hearted,” Pixie smiled, sipping more coffee.

“But coming up here? It’s a huge change for you. What will you do? You know I work, so what about you? And where will you live?”

“Details,” said Pixie, with the air of a woman who meant it. June sighed. She guessed that having money and the sort of background Pixie had gave you a social confidence she could never manage to muster.

“Well,” Pixie mused, “I did have a plan for down in London, but it might be easier to do here, and it would cost much less.”

June looked interested. Maybe she was wrong, maybe Pixie was not some posh dilettante.

“Do you work at the restaurant all day?”

“No,” June said, “I work in an office of a morning. Why, what’s your plan?”

Pixie grinned.

“Well, despite what you might think, I am a tolerably good short order cook, and a whizz with coffee, cakes and biscuits. I have also taught art classes and creative writing.”

“Okay,” said June, always glad to know more about her new lover, but wondering where this was going.

“Well, I was going to open something I have called an “Artwork Café” in London in Teddington by the lock, the idea would be to provide good coffee and homemade cake and biscuits and quiches, that sort of thing, and to have space for classes devoted to art and writing. I’d found a good place in Teddington, an old café/restaurant, and if I could find one here? I thought I might also provide some after-school classes for mums and kids?”

“Wow!” June replied. “You’ve really though this through, haven’t you? Well, let me think, there are some places which closed in the pandemic, and I’d guess they are going cheap – cheaper than London. But could you make it pay?”

“Well,” Pixie replied, “the idea is dependent on three things. The first is that there is enough demand from arty types, for the sort of classes I’d do. The second is that I could get mums and toddlers in, I have all the required certificates to work with kids. And the third is that my food and coffee are first rate. As for staff, I’d do the bulk of it, but if you knew anyone with experience in the trade?”

Pixie grinned at June.

“Well, as it happens. I could be free after lunch, and I have a couple of friends at the restaurant who’d appreciate some morning work.”

“Sounds a plan,” Pixie said. “Now, if I am going to make Church, I’d better check out and get on. What do you want to do about later?”

“First,” June said, “don’t book another night here, stay with me, please.”

“Deal,” smiled Pixie, “and shall we meet here, and you can decide on lunch? I’ll leave my case here, okay?”

“Deal!” June agreed.

And she smiled in reflection, that was how it had begun.

Pixie had gone to church, and then they had gone to one of the nicer pubs for lunch. Pixie had suggested a posh restaurant, but as the high end one was where June worked, she did not fancy a busman’s holiday, and suggested a nice riverside pub, which had done them well.

June had worried about what Pixie would think of her modest two-bedroom place, but she need not have bothered. Pixie, as she learned, was whatever the opposite of snob is. She had no sooner got into June’s place than she had asked where the tea was so she could make June a mint tea.

Smiling, June had showed her.

Pixie had not only brought her a cup of tea, but she’d also offered her a foot massage, which she had accepted. The memory of that made her snuggle into Pixie.

It had all started innocently enough.

It turned out that Pixie gave good massages, and June, who spend so much time on her feet at work, was grateful to relax and let her lover soothe all the painful bits. She escort konya lay back on the sofa and let Pixie do her stuff.

At Church, Pixie had thought over what she was doing, and said a prayer for their joint future. The service was the sort of well-ordered one she liked, and she had looked forward to her lunch with June.

She could tell that June was shy about her house, or as she called it “my little place.” Pixie’s view was simple. It was June’s and therefore where she wanted to be. She’d noticed June was hobbling a little, still on those Saturday night heels, and she’d offered to massage them.

As she got June to relax, Pixie could not resist moving up to her calves, which, like most women’s who wear heels, were a bit tense. Pixie spent another twenty minutes relaxing June. Then, slowly, her hands moved up, above the knee, sliding June’s skirt upwards. She looked up at her lover.

June was looking at her, drowsily, relaxing. That was enough for Pixie.

She began to kiss the inside of June’s thighs and, meeting no resistance, she continued upwards until June’s red panties were on show. Opening her legs, she could see the tell-tale damper patch where her panties had ridden up between her lips.

“Pixie, you are very…”

Whatever she had been going to say was lost as Pixie’s fingers, having pulled aside her panties, slid along the slit between her swollen lips. As Pixie’s tongue touched her there, June let out a moan.

June loved having her feet massaged. The only problem was that it could make her feel rather aroused, but as it was Pixie doing the massaging, that problem became its opposite – and an opportunity.

The closer Pixie got to her pussy, the more June wanted to grab her head and push her face in there, but the cunning little minx had so relaxed her that all she could summon the energy to do was to lie back and let her lover have her wicked way with her.

The feel of Pixie’s tongue there, that flick, flick, flick, followed by the slow but insistent pulse sucking, just sent June into a haze of erotic pleasure as she surrendered herself. She felt herself raising her bum, Pixie pulling her panties down, putting her legs over her shoulders, and then Pixie’s tongue and fingers working their pleasure on her.

Pixie loved to see June so relaxed – and aroused. She sensed to the point of certainty, that June worked hard and knowing that June loved her, Pixie wanted to make sure that she could relax and just enjoy it when they were together. She knew, that if she wanted, June would do the same for her. That would have been just June’s way, she knew, but this, she giggled to herself, was Pixie’s way.

June was so wet and open that Pixie had no troubled working three fingers into her straight away. She loved the feel of June’s wetness, as well as her smell, and as her fingers began to work their magic, Pixie treated herself to sucking on June’s swollen clit. As she pushed her face into June’s nectar, she felt little orgasmic shivers pass through her own body; this was, indeed, mutual pleasure.

June threw herself back, letting Pixie take control and do whatever she wanted. All June needed was to let it happen: that tongue, she gasped; hose fingers, opening, pressing in and out; and now, geeze, Pixie’s left index finger teasing her most private opening. June was not into anal, but whatever it was Pixie was doing, might make her reconsider – and then she dissolved into spasms of sheer orgasmic bliss.

The sudden squirt into her face took Pixie by surprise. She’d always wondered about those stories which had women squirting, but thanks to June, she knew it was true. The feel of June’s juices coating her face sent mini-spasms through her; she knew she should have taken her knickers off – that was another set for the wash.

As June’s eyes and head cleared, she was conscious that Pixie was still inside her, possessing her, owning her, taking her; that gave her another small orgasm. Geeze, had she squirted? She thought she might have done. She looked down just as Pixie looked up, and seeing the state of her lover’s face, June knew the truth of it; Pix had made her squirt. Fuck! And that thought triggered another small earthquake in her core.

That look in June’s eyes, thought Pixie, that was it, love and lust combined in perfect proportions. She waited, cleaning June’s pussy and thighs carefully, just keeping her fingers in play but not moving them too much. It seemed to make June happy, and that, above all, was Pixie’s desire.

“Oh Pix, that feels so good. Geeze, did I squirt?”

“You did, my love, and I relish the compliment.”

“Oh darling, that feels so good, your fingers there.”

“One,” Pixie said, “we are as one.”

“Yes,” June murmured happily. She knew that it was not just her who felt that way.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Note: The “heresy” tag is there for a reason! If you have any issue with angels or other Christian figures getting freaky with humans or doing the horizontal mambo with (Gasp!) demons, then this is not the story for you. I respectfully ask that you move on and find something more akin to your tastes.

-Blu

The sun’s rays made Ren smile as he walked across the quad after his first class. Paved walkways crisscrossed the area in the middle of campus, radiating out from a central bronze sculpture of the college’s founder. Benches, concrete picnic tables, and sculptures made by past students dotted the walkways every few meters. Trees planted halfway between the statue and the walking path offered shade to dozens of students as they studied, ate breakfast, chatted with friends, or snuggled with their partners. The outer walkway was particularly wide and had a two-person, one-way inside lane for joggers. Plenty of people complained about the joggers saying they were a hazard, but there weren’t enough injuries caused by them for anyone to care.

Ren didn’t mind the joggers. The women occasionally offered a little eye candy when walking in the track’s direction. Today he felt acutely aware of the shape of the passing joggers’ bottoms. More than once, Ren had to peel his eyes from a woman’s firm rear to keep from tenting his pants as thoughts drifted into his head about what they might look like uncovered and bent over in front of him.

“Perv,” sneered one of the three girls walking past him in the other direction as he struggled to avert his eyes from another bouncing rear in the jogging lane.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, his face turning red as he stared at the concrete at his feet and walked a little quicker.

Furthering his embarrassment, the jogger he’d been ogling turned around with a scowl on her face. After a moment of looking him over, the frown turned into a smirk, and she wiggled her ass at him before resuming her morning exercise.

Ren looked back to see the middle of the three girls, a cute woman with Asian features and black hair, had fallen behind and stared at him in confusion. The others seemed to take notice, and Ren broke into a jog toward the library before they had the chance to make a scene. Xaal’s blessing wouldn’t do him a bit of good if he became known as a campus lecher.

—

“S’up, Ru?” asked Megan, “was he checking out our asses too?”

“Could you blame him?” said Aleesha, the black girl on the other side of Ruri. “I have one fine ass, bought and paid for with my gym membership. If the boys aren’t looking, I’m not getting my money’s worth.”

Megan rolled her eyes. As Aleesha’s gym partner, she knew quite well how much time the woman spent keeping her butt looking good.

“I’ll catch up with you two in a bit,” said Ruri, slowly starting after the man Megan called a perv.

“How much you wanna bet she’s going to bust his balls for leering at those girls,” Megan said with a grin as their Asian friend strode away after the creeper.

“No bet. Poor man. Tomorrow she’ll tell us how he repented all his sins and begged her for forgiveness. Then he won’t come within ten meters of the girl,” said Aleesha, shaking her head. “Too bad, the boy was kinda cute too.” She shifted the backpack on her shoulder. “Let’s go. Unlike Ruri, we will actually get in trouble for showing up late to class.”

—

Ren pulled a book on network management, maintenance, and troubleshooting out of his bag and slid it across the Library counter.

“A bit of light reading?” asked the girl sitting on the other side as she hefted the sizeable tome and scanned it in before placing it on a rolling cart to go back out on the shelves.

“More like I need an upgrade. The info in that is good but still sophomore-ish. My new job requires that I be far more knowledgeable about networking than I originally intended for my degree.”

“New job? Does this mean I won’t see your smiling face here anymore?”

“Continued education is a job requirement. I’ll still be around.”

The side of her mouth lifted into a sexy smirk as she looked up at him through her lashes. “Good to know. I’ll keep an eye out for any books coming in that are less sophomore-ish and text you.”

“That would be wonderful. Uh… you have my cell number in your system, right?”

“I do, but it would be a lot quicker if you just gave it to me.”

“Oh… OH…!” Ren pulled his phone out of his pocket and fumbled it for a moment before inputting the passcode. As the home page pulled up, he stopped. “I don’t… need my phone to tell you my number.”

“No, you don’t,” she giggled, “but that was kind of cute.”

Ren turned bright red before stammering, “It’s uh, 555-….”

—

Hidden among the stacks of the reference section, Ren lightly bounced his head against a bookshelf’s wooden divider.

“What the hell, Ren?” he muttered to himself. “Kat, Angie, Sally, now this new girl….” He tried to remember what the nameplate on the karabük escort counter said. “Elle? I’ve gone from being a virginal nerd to a playboy. I thought it would be more fun, but this feels too much like cheating.”

“Heya, handsome.”

Ren stumbled away from the speaker in surprise. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear her walk up beside him. His eyes widened as he recognized the light denim jacket over a pink shirt he’d seen earlier on the Asian girl who caught him staring at the jogger. Smirking, she stood there as he tried desperately to not trip over his own feet and make an even bigger fool of himself. When the girl walked toward him, Ren faintly noted that her blue jeans must have required copious lubricant or maybe even a crowbar to squeeze into.

“Back there, I didn’t… I wasn’t….” For the second time in ten minutes, a woman had him completely flustered. Why did things seem easier when dealing with the magic world?

“Sure you were,” she said, “and she didn’t seem to mind, so no harm done. You sound like you are having some girl trouble. I often lend an ear to my friends. Maybe I can help?”

“We just met, and you want me to tell you my troubles?” he asked, suspicious.

“I’m a good listener and try to help people do the right thing. Taking my advice has worked out for my friends most of the time. But I’ll be honest with you,” she stepped in close and plucked at the front of his button-down shirt as if curious what lay inside, “I think you’re kind of cute and might like to be part of your woman troubles.” Ren tensed slightly, and she hurriedly continued, “Or maybe you just need to blow off some steam. Men think clearer when their dick,” her hand dropped down to the front of his pants, “isn’t doing half their thinking.”

Ren sighed. “Considering everything going on, I don’t think that would be a good idea. I wouldn’t want you to do something you might regret in a few days.”

The woman gave him a confused look before giggling. “Don’t overthink it. I’m not on your list of relationship prospects. I’m just horny and looking for some fun. From how you were staring at the runners, I figured you were in the same boat, and we might be able to help each other. Plus, if you get off, then maybe you won’t be noticeably staring at women’s asses out on the quad. It might help you keep out of trouble.”

“You have a point,” said Ren, though he was certain his judgment was affected by her fingers gliding over the fabric covering his growing erection. “However, I’ll happily go down on you and accept a blowjob, but no sex.”

“I’m good with that. I can respect a man who wants to save the main event for marriage.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him further along the rows of bookshelves. “There’s a multimedia room in the back corner of this section. Come on.”

The library contained numerous multimedia rooms, but with the addition of electronic whiteboards to classrooms, they often went unused. Prohibiting food and beverages besides bottled water in the library meant students couldn’t rent them for birthday parties, tabletop role-playing, or trading card game meet-ups. A few clubs still used them, but it was often easier to just ask a teacher to use their classroom between lessons than go through the hassle of filling out the paperwork to reserve a multimedia room.

To make things easier on students, use of the multimedia rooms were included with the college admission forms and only required a valid student ID for a key. The library also installed security cameras in each room, but the videos were only reviewed if it was discovered to be damaged or dirty by the nightly cleaners.

Ren was excited and a little surprised when the mysterious Asian girl turned away from him and fiddled around with the door handle for a moment before the lock opened with a click. He didn’t even hear her pull the key out of the lock as the door opened, but any concern quickly fled his mind as she flashed him a coy smile and pulled him into the room. After locking the door behind them, she giggled and pushed him toward the back of the room, where they couldn’t be seen if someone peeked in the door’s thin, vertical window.

Wearing the dopey grin of a man about to get his dick sucked, he backpedaled as she playfully kept pushing him. His grin faded as her smile turned into a scowl, then a snarl as she pushed him harder, knocking Ren off balance and making him stumble. Lunging forward, she grabbed his shirt and slammed him against the back wall with far more strength than her small frame seemed capable of.

“Who are you working for?” she spat.

Ren’s jaw moved up and down, but no sound came out as he stared at the woman pinning him effortlessly against the wall. Her irises glowed with golden hues surrounded by a ring of bright blue. “I-I work for a c-computer repair shop,” he blurted out.

“Liar! You reek of hellfire and witchcraft. Who are you working for!” she osmaniye escort hissed, slamming him against the wall again.

Ren let the overly-analytical part of his brain take over to ease his rising panic. “How can you smell witchcraft?”

“I’m an angel, stupid,” she replied as if it should have been obvious. “My name is Ruriel, and watching over this campus is my job. You stink of sulfur and petrichor, meaning you are touched by Hell and magic. I’ve answered your questions. Now, who are you working for, and what is your purpose here?” Still holding him to the wall with one arm, she pulled the other away and a golden dagger lined with subtle blue flames appeared in her hand. “From the strength of the smell, I can tell you are deeply bedded with them, which means killing you can only be a good thing.”

Fear of death helped him find his voice through his terror. “You shouldn’t kill me! Aside from association, I haven’t done anything wrong. You’d be killing an innocent man.”

“Unlikely, given how strongly you reek of Hell.”

“Isn’t there a way to check?”

Ruriel’s eyes narrowed as she glared at him. The pressure of her hand on his chest relaxed slightly as a golden, glowing ring formed around her head like a tiara. The angel gingerly reached up with the hand holding the dagger and pulled the halo from her head before placing it on Ren’s.

Ren winced, expecting an electric shock or pain, but instead felt warmth and calmness wash over him. When he opened his eyes again, Ruriel stared at him in confusion.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It should have changed color. Someone as steeped in demonic energy as you should have turned it red or black.”

Glancing upward, Ren could see the halo still glowed gold, though it was noticeably dimmer than when on Ruriel’s head.

“Explain yourself,” she snapped, threatening him with the dagger as the halo lifted into the air and returned to its owner’s head before vanishing again.

“A lot is going on, and I don’t know how much I can tell you without getting in trouble,” said Ren.

“If you don’t tell me, then you will get very dead. Now start talking.”

Before Ren could answer, they were interrupted by a click from the door. Ruriel’s glowing eyes and flaming dagger vanished as she released Ren and stepped to the side, refusing to put her back to him as they looked toward the door.

A heavyset, brown-haired girl slipped quietly inside and locked the door behind her. She didn’t seem at all surprised people were already in the room.

“I believe I can explain, angel.”

The glowing eyes and dagger instantly returned. The weapon’s flames were larger, and so intense Ren could feel the heat despite Ruriel pointing it at the other girl.

“Back, demon!”

The look on the girl’s face was one of abject terror, but her voice remained calm and steady as she walked toward them. “I’m not here to fight you or even cause trouble, angel. I’m to be his bodyguard for the next few days and maybe try to get his cock sucked a few times since he can’t fuck right now.”

Ruri glanced back at Ren. “You said something like that earlier. I’m guessing you weren’t saving yourself for marriage as I had hoped?”

Ren shook his head.

“Why can’t he have sex, and why does it matter?” the angel asked.

“Are you aware of the power struggle on the plane of Lust right now?”

“No, I care little for the goings on in Hell, and my duties here take up my time.”

“I guessed as much, which is why,” she produced the key to the room from a pocket, “I made sure we won’t be disturbed.”

Several minutes passed as the demoness Paress updated Ruriel, who preferred to be called Ruri, on Lucifer’s latest scheme, Lucifer getting Asmodeus and Lilith on board with it, and the upcoming fight between Xaal and Belgrun to take the archdemons’ places as rulers of the plane of Lust. Ruriel relaxed and unsummoned her flaming dagger during Paress’s explanation but kept the glowing eyes. Eventually, the three of them sat at the small table at the far end of the room, typically used by teachers or presenters.

None of this was news to Ren, so he took a moment to get a better look at the two women. Ruri seemed to be of either Japanese or Korean descent, with wavy black hair down to her shoulders and almond-shaped eyes. The fairer tone of her skin made him think of Korea or northern Japan, as he believed women from further south, like Tokyo or Okinawa, had slightly darker skin. He didn’t know if that was true, but it seemed roughly true here in the US, so he didn’t see why the same wouldn’t apply across the Pacific. Like many Asian women, she had a petite frame and a somewhat flat chest. The angel’s face was extremely pretty by modern standards, with barely a hint of makeup.

Sophie, who he learned was the name of Paress’s vessel, was the polar opposite of Ruri. Aside from being overweight, she looked like a woman who had not cared marmaris escort about her looks in a while. Past acne left scars on her face, and her light-brown hair needed a stylist. Unlike Ruri, Sophie sported a sizeable chest which she put an arm across when she noticed him looking. Just as quickly, the arm dropped away and she arched her back slightly, offering them up to his gaze while her face turned bright red with embarrassment.

Despite her flaws, Sophie wasn’t ugly. Certainly, her body needed a little TLC, but she could easily be considered beautiful with just a little more self-care. He guessed that as a vessel of Xaal and her minions, her clothing had already been upgraded. In the moments Paress relaxed control, Sophie tended to adjust and pick at her frilly, off-white, thigh-length dress and the red shrug she wore over it as if unfamiliar with such clothes.

“How do I know you are telling the truth?” asked Ruri. “I know you won’t let me check you like a normal human.”

Sophie shuddered. “Like Hell I’m letting you put that ring around my neck. You’ll just have to trust that I have no reason to lie.”

“Trust a demon? As if.”

“How do you check if someone is lying?” Ren asked.

Sophie leaned away, her eyes hardening with wariness as Ruri’s halo formed on her head again. The angel plucked it from her brow and thrust it toward Ren’s neck. Ren shied away from the glowing ring, but the halo passed through the flesh of his neck before solidifying again.

“Now lie to me.”

Ren looked Ruriel in the eyes and said, “You’re ugly.”

The angel’s lip curled in a snarl until the halo around his neck turned green.

“Hmm,” she muttered, the snarl turning into a smirk. “Demonstration over,” she said, reaching for the halo.

Ren held up a hand to block hers. Again, looking her square in the eyes, he said, “I have been privy to all of the information the succubus Paress told you. To the best of my knowledge, as explained to me by the witch Lethe and succubus Xaal, everything the succubus told you about the events taking place on the plane of lust and my own situation is true.”

Ruri’s eyes shifted to the halo around his neck, which continued glowing gold. Scowling, her hand snaked around Ren’s and snatched her halo back before placing it back on her head where it disappeared.

“So you’re telling the truth as far as he knows,” she said, turning back to Sophie. “But humans are easily deceived.”

Sophie shrugged. “As I said, I have no reason to lie. If telling the truth keeps you off mine and Ren’s back until my mistress is the ruler of Lust, then all the more reason to be truthful.”

The angel stared at the succubus. “I still don’t trust you. But it sounds like having your mistress as the ruler of Lust would be better than this Belgrun. I’m ashamed to admit I have a few friends in Heaven who make occasional trips down to Lust and speak highly of the experience. I imagine that would stop if someone closely tied to the plane of Wrath took over.”

“So you’ll leave him alone?”

“I need to report this to my superiors, but if what you say is true, they aren’t going to care. This seems to purely be a matter of Hell except for him,” she said, glancing at Ren, “and he entered into this willingly, so we have little say and less concern about what happens to him.”

“Does this mean I’m free to go?” Ren asked.

“No. I’ve been near you for over an hour, and this succubus’s blessing has me all worked up. Since you are responsible, I expect you to take care of it.”

Ren looked at her in confusion. “Succubus magic affects angels?”

“Of course,” she said, standing up and tugging her pants and panties down without a hint of shame, and considerably more ease than Ren expected, before kicking them off to the side. “If we were immune to demon magic, there would be no need to concern ourselves with Satan’s hordes. They’d never be able to touch us. Plus, my body here on Earth is mostly human, so Xaal’s damn spell affects me too. Since we can’t have sex, I’m taking you up on that offer of a good licking.” Ruri spun around and sat on the table, then kicked her legs up into the air as she rocked onto her back before awkwardly turning herself and presenting her shaven sex glistening with moisture.

Ren sat there, frozen with shock.

“Don’t give me that look,” said Ruri looking around her legs at him. “All the stigma around sex was made up by humans who believed only the rich and powerful deserved to experience pleasures of the flesh.”

“The worst of the offenders often ended up in my domain,” added Sophie while letting the shrug fall off her shoulders and pulling her dress over her head, leaving her in her bra and leggings, “while the rest ended up on the plane of Greed. But not before a life of convincing the poor and downtrodden sex should only be for procreation.”

“True, but Father gave us bodies capable of pleasure outside of procreation so that we could enjoy them. If he didn’t, humans would have heat cycles and mating seasons like most other mammals. And don’t tell me you aren’t interested. Even if she’s in a human vessel, you’ve been sitting in a room with a succubus as long as I’ve been sitting with you. I know you’re aroused.” She punctuated her worlds by using her fingers to pull her labia apart, revealing her pink entrance.

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Synopsis: Devlan is on the verge of civil war. The swordswoman Aria Schezobraska has returned to the Devlani Royal Army, only to be accused of treason. When Commander James Stromiskar discovers that she might be in danger, he sneaks into the city of his hateful father, to rescue his beloved before it is too late.

Author’s Note: I welcome feedback! For those wanting to read–or avoid–the sex scenes, those are in Chapter 4 and Epilogue II respectively. Enjoy!

Sex Content: MF, Consensual, Vaginal, Cunnilingus, Face Sitting, First-Time

The Romance on the Violet Sword

**************************************

Chapter 1: The Tyrant’s Maw

HEAVY rain trickled off the edges of a gatekeeper’s hat as he peered at the grey skies. The chill in his toes begged him to leave his post, as his poncho did little to stave off the cold.

“Identification, please. You two over there, the big one and the shorter one. Helmets off!” His breath billowed in the downpour.

A hulking man in a burlap mantle clanked under the portcullis, a silver tomahawk strapped to his girdle. Metal chinked with his every step, implying chainmail beneath. Pulling down his hood, he revealed his full helmet, the visor of which bore no inkling of the face within.

Beside him was a shorter, leaner man, clad in silver armor. Young and spry, he sported a demeanor that evinced a more proper upbringing. Golden eyes flit furtively through the slit of his helmet, a sword hitched to his belt.

“All those who pass this gateway must be qualified to do so,” the gatekeeper declared. “What is your business in Armad?”

The big man’s voice was deep and rusty. “I seek medicine for my friend’s condition. We will be in the capital for but three days, and no more.”

“What kind of condition?” The watchman scribbled, his brow crinkling.

“My friend has a terrible, Nagarathian face rash,” the hulking knight bellowed. “So terrible that if you look upon it, you will contract it.”

“I… see.” The gatekeeper looked them over. “Very well, but I still need to view your identification.”

The two men glanced at each other.

“G-give me a moment. It’s in my trousers…” The shorter man fumbled with his belt.

“My companion is very embarrassed about checking his trousers in public. Please allow him some privacy behind that very fine wall.” The big man pointed to an enclosure a dozen steps away.

“Ah, uh… very well, but I have to watch you at least. No funny business.”

A moment later, the three men vanished from view, their voices drowned by the downpour.

“M-my belt is stuck, can you get help me get it off?”

“What? Sir, if this is some kind of ruse…”

A massive hand seized the gatekeeper’s shoulder from behind. Then came a gasp from his lips, followed by a grotesque gurgle and a blade erupting from his chest. His eyes rolled back and he slumped to the ground, a pool of blood fast forming in the mud.

“Ian! Why did you do that?! I told you to knock him out!” The shorter knight blurted.

“James, we are now in enemy territory! We cannot risk discovery. Centurions all over the city would be on our tail.”

James swore. This had never been his plan, but as he feared, Ian’s proclivities appeared to get the better of him.

“Ugh, I–Aria would never approve!”

“Aria isn’t here,” Ian replied, grinning beneath the visor of his helmet.

“Fine! Can’t be helped. Did anyone see us?”

“I should think not. This heavy rain should have provided cover, even if the gatehouse was occupied. Which it is not.”

Glancing at his surroundings, he dumped the body in a nearby barrel, and stacked it among others.

Then, he retrieved three empty bottles of Valhassan wine from his coat, and placed them untidily in the corner where the gatekeeper had been, at which point the scowling James was sure that Ian had planned this all long.

“I’ll be very surprised if they find his body before we finish our mission,” he mused. “Which is, above all, to find your lady friend.” He flashed a sardonic smile beneath his helmet.

“She’s the most intelligent swordswoman I know. More than worth the trouble, Ian. And yes, I… have feelings for her. But that’s my business.”

“Mm-hm. I don’t doubt it. I look forward to meeting her…” he mocked. “All the more if we can escape anon.”

The rain thickened. Unhindered, the two knights walked onto the cobblestone beneath the open portcullis, their forms obfuscated by the dense, Devlani fog.

________________________________________

The autumn sun fell low behind gargantuan city walls. The twin moons, Quintosis and Urna, were yet to rise in the West. It was the year 345.

The spires of the Silver Palace nearly breached the firmament. In the zenith of the central tower lay the throne room, adorned with pillars, jewels, and silk banners emblazoned with the crimson insignia of Emperor Stromiskar himself. Buttressed archways afforded a panoramic view that the reigning Emperor, otherwise referred to as the Furst, batman escort used to scrutinize his great city from atop his perch.

The Vizier Von Richter, aptly referred to as the Sekond, stood in that throne room waiting for the news of the day. Locks slicked back, revealing a wrinkled gauntness that suggested an unsavory history, Von Richter turned and stepped keenly down the platform.

“Enter, Commander-Knight Safrax,” he said, straightening his robes. “What news have you?”

The young Commander, appearing no older than thirty summers, knelt on the red carpet before a cold sweat broke out upon his crimson brow.

Emperor Valakov Stromiskar, supping on a plate of roast peasant and wine, did not meet the young man’s gaze.

“Just yesterday,” he bellowed as he chewed. “My elite guards foiled the plans of my enemy, Lord Agarthus. He drew his sword from his girdle, and slashed at my back with his treacherous hand, until my centurions halted his assault, and righteously clove his arm from his torso. He lies now in my dungeon, being split in twain by torturous devices. May his soul forever burn” —he swallowed— “in the stews of Hell.”

On account of his table manners, one might assume Valakov Stromiskar was as obese as an Olivanian Elephant. But this could not be further from the truth. His gossamer robes tumbled subtly over his muscled frame while a dark beard grew from his chin. His thick brows and golden eyes glared at all men who dared to address him at all.

He bit into a heap of pandemain soaked in the roast, chewing with spite.

“Hrahahah, it seems as though all my retainers want to kill me, Commander Safrax!”

“Your Excellency… Lord Agarthus is but one of many…” Safrax replied, averting his gaze. “Every day, we receive more reports of defection from your regime. Lord Desmuth, Wilmark, Tolimech… they raise their standards in favor of the growing Vormian Union in the south, providing support and soldiers. Your Excellency, with all due respect, the country is on the verge of civil war. And not a one-sided one, you must understand.”

The Emperor tore a juicy ligament from an Alacian buffalo bone, spitting the refuse onto the carpet.

“If they want a war, by the Gods,” he said. “They will have it! War is the egg of progress. Victory is the hammer that cracks it. The sooner they become corpses, the sooner this Empire can fulfill its purpose. Now, may I finish my supper in peace?”

Von Richtor stepped forward.

“Nay. Commander Safrax, please bring up the subject of the hearing this morning. For the lady Lieutenant.”

Valakov groaned.

“Yes,” Safrax continued. “Lieutenant Aria Schezobraska. The female chevalier who went missing last year. The best in the 7th division. She is known by her violet hair and the scar over her left eye, not to mention her height. Her hearing this morning brought her loyalty into question. She was feared dead until just before she returned to us, hale and whole. She would have been commended for her defense of Duke Richardson, may he rest in peace, but now she has been accused of collusion of all things. Schezobraska pled innocent, insisting that her heart belongs to Devlan. Her senior, Lieutenant Commander Willowing Rayleen, even vouched for her innocence, going so far as to risk her reputation. She clearly has great respect for Schezobraska, as former unit members.”

“Mm, yes. I remember,” the Emperor said, spooning the last morsels of pudding from a gilded goblet. “She was quite a dish. What do you think?”

“Your Excellency?”

“Simple question, Commander Safrax. Do you think she is guilty?”

“… speaking honestly, I have worked with her before. Her love for Devlan runs as deep as the River Laine. I have never known a woman with more passion, skill, and loyalty to our great country. It would be a deep disservice to incarcerate her, or worse.”

“I see… where is she now?”

“She has returned to her old quarters in the Western barracks. Many of her old friends and squad members celebrated her return. She is popular, your Excellency…”

“By the hairs of the father, is she not even under watch?”

“…watch, Your Excellency?”

A handmaiden presented a cushion of velvet, where Valakov casually dropped his empty goblet. Only now, after his belly was full, did his attention actually coalesce. And when it did, his oily lips mutated into a scowl.

“I think she is lying. Beauty deceives. It betrays. Like rich wine from a vintage bottle of Schmidt, beauty clouds the minds of others. She is lying. Of this, I am sure.”

Commander Safrax gulped.

“…as you say, perhaps, my Emperor.”

“Perhaps? Perhaps what? Would your Emperor imply otherwise?”

Safrax turned white as a corpse. But the Emperor was both quick to hate and quick to reward. His whims were but like the changing seasons happening all at once.

“…well, doubtless, you were among Aria’s circle,” Valakov said with a smirk. “It is no wonder yalova escort that you would vouch for her. You’re a fine man, Safrax. I can see why your fiancé loves you.”

“My Emperor! Praise be to you! May your rule be eternal…” He bowed deeply, color returning to his cheeks.

“Praise be. You are dismissed, Commander.”

With a salute, the young man marched back down the red carpet hall, turning out of sight. Valakov rose from his chair and motioned Von Richtor to follow him through the postern, where they emerged into a sun-lit colonnade.

“Interrogate him immediately. Doubtless he conspires with Union rebels hiding in the city.”

“Yes, Emperor.”

The two men strolled down the hall, as if it were a mere routine. Von Richtor did not bat an eye. Such was his business.

“My Emperor, if I may be so bold as to ask about Commander Schezobraska,”

Valakov groaned. “Not you too?”

“You misunderstand. I was curious to know why you thought she was guilty of collusion. Surely it’s not because of beauty.”

“Oh, that,” the Emperor chortled. “Poetry from my arse. Before that fool interrupted my meal. No, a fortnight ago I acquired reliable evidence that the Lieutenant-Knight Schezobraska had been communicating with a certain man. Correspondence that I’m more inclined to believe is genuine, because of the man involved.”

“No… your son?” Von Richtor gasped.

“The very same.”

“I see… I remember the boy. But even I could not have foreseen… I mean, that such a sheltered boy would become an errant knight, and rise against his own father.”

The Emperor laughed.

“Your Eminence?”

“Pay me no need. I laugh only because he is most definitely of my seed. I would be disappointed had he turned out any other way. Moreover…”

The Emperor turned, narrowing his crimson eyes.

“Von Richtor, I know I have asked much of you lately. But I would ask a little more. I care little for Lieutenant-Knight Schezobraska. She is no better than any whore in my seraglio. But James is the compassionate sort. He holds fast to the ideals of his damned mother like a babe to a breast. And so much the better if those ideals should betray his whereabouts. I believe we can use this… ‘Schezobraska’, to lure him out. Capture her. Announce her public execution. Make it so the boy couldn’t possibly ignore it.”

The Emperor smiled darkly. “He will come.”

“Your Eminence, if I may,” Von Richtor interjected. “I have no intention of speaking against your plan. But Lieutenant Schezobraska’s trial hasn’t even ended yet. To encourage support for your regime, it is important not to overextend your influence. The commonwealth will surely protest—”

“Then let them protest. Then we shall truly know who must live, and who must die.”

Von Richtor bowed deeply, his long robe glittering in the sunlit arcade.

“Well-said, my Emperor. It shall be done.”

The sun fell behind the city walls just after dusk. Von Richtor, his day’s work not yet over, descended into the dusky town to the pub he frequented, The Tinted Glass. The barmaids welcomed his coin as he sat at a corner table, a hood cloaking his face. The clock struck eight when the doors opened, and in walked a stooping figure shawled in shredded black.

A jingle of shells and bones dangled from his neck as he sat at the Vizier’s table, where he declined a drink offered by the maid.

“…sent for me again, my lord?” he whispered, his accent raspy and exotic. “What is it this time?”

The Vizier dropped a heavy sack of coins on the table.

“I have another mark for you. A lioness with a violet mane. Do keep the target alive this time.”

Chapter 2: The Skyrrian Assailant

ARIA SCHEZOBRASKA’s dream did not easily relinquish her.

The kiss was deep and indulgent, shared with a man of equine scent and gentle, yet robust lips. When a delicious lust manifested, she felt weather-hewn fingers slip under the waistband of her underclothes, passing through the tussocks of her softly-rounded eminence, and over her delicate pearl of nerves that stoked her hot desire.

Then, her eyes snapped open at a loud rapping on her chamber door. The fantasy vanished, and was subsequently replaced by a whiff of evening air.. Her mahogany wall clock, lit by moonlight, struck twelve.

“Hah… another one…” she heaved a sigh. “I thought only men were supposed to have wet dreams.”

Her eyes fell upon her desk set with parchment, quill, and candle, wick cold as the evening chill.

Aria did not consider herself promiscuous, but such a dream was not unusual. James’s next letter was long overdue, and the resulting anxiety manifested in odd but not altogether unwelcome ways. Given the imminent civil war, she supposed the delay was only natural; he had to be wary lest their correspondence be discovered by authorities.

The loud rapping on her chamber door shook the apartment once more.

Aria threw off the sheets tersely. “Alright, I’m coming! May ordu escort I ask who’s there?”

There came no answer.

Her toes winced on the lacquered wood. She ducked slightly, the top of her head narrowly avoiding a low-hanging beam. The bedchamber did not accommodate her height well, and the furnishings were more austere than the ones in her childhood, but for Aria it was home. Traipsing in her nightgown with a candle in hand, she undid the series of locks and peered through the crack of the door.

The visitor was cloaked in a hooded shawl. But even under the trappings, Aria instantly identified the owner of the immaculate silver armor and bronzed skin.

“…Commander Rayleen? Rayleen, what’s the matter?”

Without a word, the knight known as Rayleen seized Aria’s wrist and shoved herself through, locking the door behind her. Her other hand gripped her scabbard, eyes scanning the rafters with uncanny attention, as if expecting an eavesdropper.

Aria’s face tinted with concern. “Rayleen? I assure you, there’s no one here but me.”

The woman known as Rayleen then closed the shutters, blocking out the moonlight. Only then did she break her own silence with manic whispers.

“You need to run,” she said.

“What?” Aria replied.

“I’ve been told by an informant that the Emperor has ordered your execution.”

Her face went pale, and she felt her heart in her throat.

“How?” she croaked. “No… The trial isn’t even—”

“To hell with the trial! Doesn’t mean anything. You know as well as I that the Emperor does whatever he pleases.”

“…I-I don’t believe it. Does the Emperor honestly think he can ignore the protocols of the tribunal?!”

“Apparently he does. The covenants have been quickly unraveling, through fear or favor. Perhaps both. I know how much you wanted to avoid bloodshed, but… but I think this is it. The masquerade is up. Maybe even for me too.”

“Valakov is violating section 1, article 8! He has no evidence! The commonwealth would protest!”

“Aria, they found the letters!”

Aria suddenly paused. Whatever tirade might have been there ended before it had even begun.

“I see.”

She clutched the ruffled hem of her nightgown, lips pursed. There appeared to be a breath of shame and ignominy on her dark face. In truth, Aria felt a rush of relief in her bosom.

This was truly the end of her career, then. But, there was also no more need to hide her allegiance or relationship.

The conflict was plain: she was a proud soldier of the Devlani Royal Army. But she had no fantasies regarding the Emperor’s true nature as a war-hungry madman. Just that there was still hope in reform without resorting to civil war. For that reason alone, she declined James’s request for her to defect to the Vormian Union, and instead chose to remain in the Devlani Royal Army to encourage negotiation over war. If her efforts failed, and Aria was unable to convince her superiors of the Emperor’s folly, she would just as quickly turn to fight by James’s side. Among all the amorous subtext in her letters to him, she hoped he understood that most of all.

“I’ve worked so hard to be part of this army, Commander Rayleen. To abandon my childhood dream like this…”

“I don’t think you’ve abandoned your dream, Aria. Rather, it was not the dream you thought it was.”

Tales of her father’s bravery and heroism had been burned into her skull at a young age. Aria drunk deep in it, far more so than her brothers and sisters, even as her passion for the sword resulted in a self-inflicted scar over her eye.

Now, Aria’s ivory-metal cuirass lay hung by the window—a symbol of her achievement in the Devlani Royal Army. Considering how female knights were treated, she counted these blessings.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Rayleen said. “You became what you intended—a soldier of Devlan. That’s something to be proud of. And now you can leave it behind and become something even greater.”

“Hah… that’s one way of putting it. Thanks. For everything, Ray.” Aria returned a wry smile. She did not easily accept honeyed words, but Rayleen was, of course, not wrong.

The clock ticked. Aria moved swiftly, strapping on her cuirass over her violet bodice and breeches. She worked her wavy, violet hair into a bun, dressing herself in front of a mirror that she would never use again.

She threw her maroon mantle over her shoulders before strolling to the shoe cabinet. Leaning by the far side was her violet claymore, weathered from years of use, yet sharp enough to behead an ox. She took that too.

From behind the window shutters, throngs of voices rose from the city streets below. The common citizenry, as usual, remained oblivious to the immediate conflict, even as Aria aimed to free them from a government in which corruption and poverty ran rampant. This was never the city she wanted to see when she first arrived in Armad three years ago. No, it was a far-cry from what her father described as a paragon of civilization.

“Aria, take my horse and my cloak. In the left pocket is a slip of paper with an address. There is a Vormian hideout there. Tell them Rayleen sent you. They’ll know what to do.”

Nodding, Aria gently drew a wrinkled parchment from the shawl. 341 Vellum Plaza, District of Lord Valdimar, it read.

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After completing his barrage of tests and enjoying the gratifying session with Tiffany Harry was exhausted. He changed into his clothes, slowly walked out through the main lobby and head to his car. Although it seemed Tiffany was ready to continue their little session, Harry wasn’t sure his toe would take it.

Hopefully Harry would get some information from the doctor about his condition in the next few days. He had been seeing some more coverage on the genetic mutation in the newspapers and even on TV now. The tabloids were already jumping into the fray with outlandish coverage on a series of toe rapes that allegedly were happening in several cities. To hear them tell it, it was no longer safe for a woman wearing a skirt to bend over anywhere.

Some shoe companies had announced their intention to come up with a shoe more capable of accommodating the aroused adult male. Harry had to wonder what those shoes might look like. All the pictures that came to Harry’s mind were incredibly obscene.

He finished driving home, climbed out of the car, locking it behind him. He slowly walked down to the mailbox which he found stuffed full of letters. Harry grabbed the big stack and slowly headed into his house. Too tired to look at the mail right away, he tossed the letters on the kitchen table and headed into his room. Kicking off his shoes, he fell onto his bed and in just fethiye escort minutes he was fast asleep.

Suddenly he found himself wandering through a very seedy part of town, triple X theaters lined each side of the street and there was neon flashing everywhere. Oddly, instead of the assorted massage parlors featuring scantily clad women ready to give a massage and anything else you can negotiate, instead there were nail salons. Women wearing hot pants, high heels and halter tops were chiding the men to step in for their special pedicures.

Harry had never been in a nail salon but had known Connie to visit one, but those had all been geared toward women. All these were obviously for men. Intrigued, Harry walked past a few of the women and stepped inside. The lighting was low but as he looked around he saw a bunch of stations were women were working on men’s feet. Well, not their feet, but their big toes.

Hearing the moans and groans around him he saw one man with shoe strings all laced up and down his erect toe. In another booth a man with a condom on his toe was slowly working his foot between the two fleshy globes of a woman’s ass. Out in the middle of the room there were two women locked in a passionate 69 while several men sitting around them slowly stroked their own toes. One of the men suddenly moaned alanya escort loudly, stuck his leg out toward the women and as his toe spurted his cum, they were covered with the glistening globs.

He suddenly heard a familiar voice panting, “Oh yeah, give it to me, yeah, real hard, just like that.”

Stepping up to an area behind a curtain he paused, wondering. The woman moaned again and Harry was sure. He grabbed the curtain and pulled it back. Connie was completely naked, kneeling at the edge of a bed leaning on it so her hands were free. Three men were on the bed around her where each of her hands were stroking up and down on one of the men’s erect toes, while she ran her tongue all around another man’s foot and toes.

In addition to the men in the bed, two men sat on chairs behind her, one with his erect toe sliding in and out of her pussy while the other slid his toe in and out of her ass. Several men sat at the back of the room, their toes glistening with wetness, but flaccid. Harry could see several puddles of cum on her back.

It was like a car wreck, he wanted to look away but just couldn’t so he watched as one by one each man, straightened out his leg and came, spurting their white cum onto her body, into her mouth, into her ass and deep into her pussy. As they finished they moved back, thinking manavgat escort Harry was the next paying customer.

Connie looked over to Harry and said, “Oh Harry, I understand now. Come on, please fuck me, make me cum again.” She climbed up on the bed, rolled onto her back and spread her legs.

Mesmerized, Harry moved closer and then placed his foot on the bed between Connie’s legs. She grabbed his throbbing, erect toe and guided it into her wet pussy. Harry watched the white cum ooze out around his toe as it slid into her soaking wet opening. Feeling dizzy he wanted to turn, to run out of there but Connie had grabbed him by the ankle and was moving herself back and forth over his toe.

A pressure built up in the ball of his foot and then the pleasure shot through his toe and he came, mixing his cum the all the other semen the men had deposited in her. After coming, he jerked his foot away and saw the white globs of cum sticking to the strands of hair on his foot.

Suddenly he slipped on the wet floor and fell to his knees in front of her. Connie grabbed his head and pulled it up between her legs moaning, “Yes Harry, eat me, eat me now.”

Harry suddenly opened his eyes and found himself in his room. Still completely dressed he was covered in sweat and when he looked down at his foot he noticed a damp cum stain in his bedspread. “Damn, a wet dream at my age?” he moaned.

He got up and pulled off his wet clothes. Glancing at the clock he saw it was still just two am, so he quickly went into the shower, washed off, and then remembering his dream, he brushed his teeth. After rinsing his mouth a number of times he flopped back into his bed. In a few minutes he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

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Drasco let her take his hand. She drew it slowly to her mouth and kissed the palm of his hand. She was staring so intently at him, he thought for a moment that she was willing this to happen. The next moment he thought that he just may not care, it was happening, and he wanted it to continue.

She then raised her hand to touch his face. He reached for her and gently drew her tunic off of her shoulders. She let it fall to the floor, never breaking her gaze at him. He watched the amber flecks in her eyes flash slightly gold. She sighed deeply.

He reached for her but stopped himself at running his fingertips over her shoulders. Her skin was soft and he could feel the firmness of her muscles. There was an old scar on her left shoulder that he stroked gently. He ran his hand over her collar and to her chin. He lifted her face to his and kissed her softly. She was still standing. He was overwhelmed with the desire to make her want him as badly as he wanted her.

He broke the kiss and continued exploring her body with his fingertips. There was fresher scar, only a few months old, on her right breast.

He ran his hand over it and asked, “Did it hurt.”

She looked away for a moment and answered, “Yes.”

He cupped her other breast and leaned down to gently kiss her nipple. She arched against his hand and did not so much as sigh as purr. She again locked eyes with him, but her gaze wasn’t quite as firm. Her expression seemed so much softer than it had before.

He ran his tongue across her chest, his arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her slightly. He hadn’t realized zonguldak escort how much smaller she was than he. She was so confident and strong that he hadn’t noticed that she was a good deal shorter than he thought. He licked her other nipple.

She purred again and her neck arched with pleasure. She made no move to touch him. He let himself enjoy her uncommon stillness. He picked her up, placing her in front of him as he sat on the chair. He slowly unlaced her leggings and slipped them off. He was surprised to see that she was wearing the same silk hose that were sold to noble women. Not that he’d ever seen them on anyone before.

She seemed to hear this in his mind. And smiled at him.

He thought, “much better than I imagined.”

She smiled at him so brightly at this that every muscle in his body tingled. He admired her for a moment, standing in front of him, naked except for the hose covering her legs from toe to the tops of her thighs, her body bathed in firelight. He looked at her and caught the flash of gold in her eyes.

He lifted her leg gently, placing her foot on his thigh. He slid his fingers up the inside of her leg until he reached the ribbons lacing the stocking in place. He loosened the laces and gently uncovered her leg with both hands. He caressed her skin as he worked his way down. Her legs were dotted with bruises from the rough life she was leading, and he kissed each one as it was revealed. He had just reached her ankle when she raised her hand and placed it on her shoulder. He had no intention of stopping.

She bursa escort said, “Please don’t stop.”

She caressed the side of his face and he turned his attentions to her other leg. He was unsure what to do as she stood naked before him. He was fully dressed. She seemed perfectly comfortable standing there under his gaze. He drew his eyes slowly over her and met her eye. The gold flashed again. He could no longer resist her and his desire to make her knees buckle no longer seemed as important.

He groaned deep in his throat and stood, lifting her with him. He carried her to the bed, lying her down, letting his eyes roam over her as she stretched, affording him the most explicit view of her. He tried, he really did, to take his clothes off slowly, but he was after all, only human. She made an approving sound. He looked at her.

She said, “You are beautiful.”

He had never had anyone say this to him before, and he never expected to hear this from a woman who had seen as much as she had. She sighed that purring sound again, and his body responded.

She said, “As I said, you are beautiful.”

He blushed and she said, “It doesn’t make you any less strong. That is part of your beauty.”

She locked eyes with him again. He sat on the bed beside her. She drew him into her arms and against her mouth. He wanted to savor every moment with this magical being. He pulled away from the kiss, knowing all too well how easy it would be to fall into that comfort.

He remembered what she had shown him and ran malatya escort his tongue down her throat. She arched her neck and moaned. He smiled against her skin and licked and nibbled her his way down her body, stopping for a few moments to lick and suck her nipples. She moaned louder.

He murmured, “You taste sweet.”

She raised her hands and began to stroke his hair as he continued his way down her body.

He gently spread her legs with his hands and began to lick and suck her where she had placed his hands before. She arched against his mouth. He raised his head and saw her looking down at him with the want he had been waiting for the gold flashed across her eyes and he drew himself up and kissed her deeply. He slipped his fingers into her.

A ripple ran across her body and he continued to kiss and move his fingers in her. She moaned loudly and he felt her grip him hard. He could not make himself wait any longer. He drew himself up, the full length of his body on hers. She wrapped her arms across his shoulders, her legs falling open underneath him. Her eagerness made him feel powerful, and encouraged him.

He slowly, almost achingly so, slid himself into her. He had never felt such a perfect pleasure as the tight, wet warmth around him. Until she wrapped her legs around his hips, and then she ground herself gently against him. It was almost beyond belief how each moment was so intensely pleasurable. Each moment rippled seamlessly into the next. He drew himself in and out of her slowly, hoping to make her feel as wonderful as he was feeling.

She ran her hands up and down his back and shoulders. She began to moan and sigh and purr, alternately. Then her body began to tense and he felt her legs lock around him. She arched, almost lifting him off of the bed. He felt her throb and contract around him. She let loose with a final moan. He held her tightly and let himself go.

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Chapter Six

They were somewhere over the Nomadic Sea when Sophia decided to approach Yasha. “Have… have I done something to offend Arkady?” the human asked the elf, trepidation in her voice. The dwarf was asleep in the back of the chamber atop Quiesh as they flew through the moonlight. “He’s been… a little curt the past few days, and I’m worried I’ve said something to upset him, so I thought I might come to you, since you’ve been together so long.”

“Mmm,” Yasha said, sipping from her tea as she watched the murmur of the waves far beneath them as the two moons cast dueling paths across them. “It’s not you, my dear. My husband has a somewhat conflicted relationship dealing with pixies, and your new companion, Moonweave, is a reminder of a particularly difficult time for him. I imagine it will pass in time, but neither you nor she should take this as a reflection upon either of you. When you have lived through as much history as my husband has, sometimes it can take a toll upon you in the most unexpected and unusual ways.”

“I keep forgetting that even among your highly long-lived species, both you and your husband have remained extremely youthful through the aid of your magics.”

“Threadbinders and Threatbinders are sizable investments in knowledge and power,” Yasha said, “so that comes with the expectation that we will pay back that investment over the centuries, both in great ways and small.”

“Can I ask what problems Arkady has with pixies?”

Yasha sighed, leaning her slender frame against the railing that circumnavigated the edge Quiesh’s carriage. “Problem is perhaps a poor choice of words. Arkady fought alongside an entire battalion of pixies, but none of them survived, and during that time, he’d grown quite fond of them. Because of that, he came to associate their kind, completely unfairly I will confess, as harbingers of ill-omen, despair and death.” Yasha placed a hand on Sophia’s shoulder. “He knows it is silly, and that it is without merit, but that war still haunts him to this day, and he has yet to be able to fully shed its wear and tear upon his soul.”

“Should I advise Moonweave to steer clear of him then?”

“No no,” Yasha said, waving her hand. “I will not see your companion feeling rejection because my husband is still dealing with grief. Just caution her not to take Arkady’s gruff demeanor personally, and assure her that he will, at some point, work through it. We’ve not had cause much to be around pixies over the centuries, so it’s likely time that he begin the process of moving through the grief rather than stuffing it in the cupboards of his mind.”

“Might I ask another question, m’lady?”

“Sophia, my dear, we’re partners now, so I think that you should definitely drop the ‘m’lady’ unless absolutely necessary,” Yasha scolded with a slight smile of amusement.

“Very well. Yasha, what the bloody hells is that?” Sophia said, pointing over to the left of their path where a ribbon of blueflame cut through the sky in a threatening volley, landing upon a field of soldiers off in the far distance.

The elf squinted her eyes to focus them on the far distance and she could see a familiar wrinkle she’d not laid eyes upon for centuries, a rounded insectoid shaped tank with a large cannon on the back of it, a piece of Zincolum magical technology that was thought long destroyed. They were known as Rackows, a sort of military tech now banned by polite society. Even at such sizable distance, she could make out the distinct lapis lazuli carapace, a sight she’d seen during the Cosmion Wars, and hoped never to see again. The six spindly legs looked as though they had been reconstructed, cobbled together from whatever materials could be found. A far cry from their hayday, this one looked to have been on its last legs several lifetimes ago, and yet, the very sight of it still instilled a sense of primal fear deep in the back of her skull, as she remembered seeing their cannons shredding through soldiers by the legion. If anything, she mostly found herself glad to be only seeing one of them, and not a full squadron of them on approach, even in its dilapidated state. Despite how long they’d been gone, she found the very sight of one causing her unrest.

“That, dear Sophia, is forbidden magic,” Yasha said, a sliver of nervousness in her voice. “And something we, sadly, cannot just ignore. Go, wake Arkady and your new companion. We’re going to need all hands on-deck, although this is far more my field than it is his.”

“I’ll get him.”

A few minutes later, Quiesh had changed course and was drifting through the air currents over towards the battlefield, which looked as though it had quieted down, the battle having broken for a time, each side retreating to their lines, leaving the empty battlefield between them mostly scorched earth and untended corpses.

Both Arkady and Yasha had significant military experience, but they came at it from two entirely different angles, and in entirely different üsküdar escort eras. Arkady had fought in old wars, before he was a mage, and before he was properly armed to deal with them, so he had the frontline battle experience. Yasha, by contrast, had developed all of her initial military knowledge while becoming a Threatbinder, and had spent centuries refining those skills, so she was far more equipped to think tactically.

The dwarf scowled, looking down at the Rackow with clear disdain in his eyes. “I thought the humans were supposed to know better than to go mucking about with that kind of dangerous thing,” he grumbled. “They’re just as like to blow themselves up as they are to damage the enemy. And wouldn’t that just be a fine thing.”

“Why were they banned, dear Arkady?” Sophia asked, leaning against him, resting her plush curves into his back. He recognized that she was trying to butter him up but chose to let the physical contact continue uncommented on.

“Blueflame scars in ways that fleshmenders cannot tend to,” the dwarf said. “Its burns are irreparable, often fatal, but even the wounds that do not kill cause lingering pain that is near impossible to quell. I once saw a dwarf lop his own hand off at the wrist rather than endure the eternal singing of pain from half-functioning fingers. The fleshmender even complimented him on the willpower to follow through on the correct decision. Blueflame weapons were deigned… too cruel to be allowed for civilized usage. Most were said to be destroyed centuries ago, when the Accords were adopted, but I suppose the wreckage of some of them must’ve lain beneath the earth, simply waiting for some poor sap to dig them up.”

“And what are we going to do about it?” Moonweave chirped in happily as she zipped on her tiny wings in the air before them. “Bend them over your lap and rap upon their bottoms until they learn how naughty they’ve been?”

“As amusing as that might be, little one, I somehow do not think they will be eager to engage in such ideas,” the dwarf said, annoyance in his voice. “But we need not give them a choice in such matters. The accords are quite clear on what any mage who encounters a blueflame weapon is supposed to do with it. So, we don’t really have any choices to be made, other than how, I suppose.”

“It appears as though they might be doing some form of parlay at that tent in the center of the battlefield, Arkady,” his elven wife said to him. “We could go and lay down the terms of the accords in front of them.”

“I’m keen to just go and destroy the Rackow, but I suppose perhaps we should go and inform the humans that what they’ve done are in violation with accords that were signed before their grandparents were born,” Arkady grumbled.

“Forgive them, lover, for they know not what they do,” Sophia said, trying to placate him.

“Hmph,” he snorted. “When has that excuse ever been good enough for anyone?”

The griffon circled in a downward spiral towards the tent, and for a moment, Arkady thought the two sides might consider firing arrows at them, but they had the Threadbinder flag painted clearly on one side of Quiesh’s carriage, and the Threatbinder flag on the opposite side, so that it would always be clear they were independent mages, and not to be brash in assuming their intentions.

“Should I go and scout ahead?” Moonweave asked, always eager to offer her help.

“No, I believe we can make our own entrances,” the dwarf said, before his wife nudged him in the shoulder. “But thank you for the offer.”

“Of course! I am in the service of my lady, who is one of your partners, so I am in service to you just as much, Lord Threadbinder!”

As they moved down the stairs and over towards the tent, there were two guards standing watch, one on either side of the flap. The two couldn’t have been more different. The guard on the left was in somewhat tattered armor, the weapon chipped and worn, no hint of a uniform, just strong protective clothing strapped together for dear life. The guard on the right, however, was in a crisp, sharp uniform with piping, filigree and inlay. His weapon was sharp and ready, having probably only seen combat a couple of times, but polished within an inch of being able to be used as a mirror. “Halt!” the guard on the right said, eager to show off his bluster and bravado. “This summit is not for outsiders to participate in.”

She couldn’t help it. Yasha laughed at the man’s staggering overestimation of his ability to intimidate them. “You do realize you’re speaking to a Threatbinder?” Yasha said, watching the man’s confidence wither and die within moments, the look of steel behind his eyes reduced to sand.

“Sorry, m’lady,” the man said, although all the fire and spark was gone from him. “We were instructed to keep people from disturbing the summit, but I suppose that does not apply to your kind. Would you prefer me to announce your entry?”

“No no,” Yasha gaziemir escort said. “We can make our own presence known.”

The four of them moved through the flap, Yasha stepping through first, as the member of the party whose skillset was most relevant here, even if Arkady had far more upclose experience with blueflame weapons than his wife had.

“What is the meaning of–oh, my apologies Lady Threatbinder,” the more elegantly of the two women standing in the center of the tent said. The two women in the tent, much like the two guards out front, represented polar opposites of class and wealth. One of the women was in commoner clothing, a long skirt that had several patches on its surface, threadbare in many spots with boots that had been resoled multiple times; the other was in what could only be royal’s clothing, silk and lace and refinement. While both were likely the same age, the one in the commoner’s clothing looked so very much older, the years having been harder on her than they had been the noblewoman. “I was unaware that my opponent had enscripted your services.”

“I’ve never met this woman,” the commoner said. “Why are you here, Lady Threatbinder?”

“One of you has an army with a Rackow in it. Which would that be?” Yasha asked.

“A whatnow?”

“The large insectoid object that was firing blueflame not too long ago,” Arkady interjected.

“That would be our army,” the commoner woman said. “I am Monera Bimus, the elder of the village of Pickering, and we cannot stand for their overly cruel taxations, so when they began sending their troops in, pillaging our land to cover this new ‘taxes’ they have imposed, we struggled to find any weapons we could use in order to protect ourselves from their cruelty.”

“The announced tax increase has been on display at the castle for the past two seasons,” the noblewoman sighed. “Lady Amanding Rhyphian of House Rhyphian, your Ladyship. We felt half a year would be plenty of time for those folks in our fiefdom to get their affairs in order, so that they were prepared for the increased needs of the castle, which is a dire state, and desperately in want of repair and reconstruction.”

“And as I keep telling you, Lady Rhyphian, you cannot simply post notice and expect all the villages to know about it without sending messengers to each and every village. That is your responsibility, as the presiding Lady of the fief, to make sure such decrees are given ample chance for discussion. Had you brought this to our notice when you posted it, we would’ve informed you that it had been a harsh winter, and that this year’s crop was predicted to be quite light, a rebuilding year, rather than one in which we could afford to spare our profits to gild some noble’s cage!”

“If you can’t be bothered to take an interest in local affairs, Madam, I’m not sure how you expect for me to bothered to have the slightest drop of sympathy for you,” the noblewoman huffed. “But because of the horror and devastation you’ve inflicted upon my troops, we will reluctantly withdraw and allow you to have your year of lean deliverance, with the expectation that next year, we will not be having a similar conversation.”

“Actually, gentle folk,” Yasha interjected. “We don’t care about any of that. We’re here to destroy the Rackow, the blueflame tank, and ensure that it cannot be restored or used again.”

“That is our only defense regarding the lady’s intolerance!” Monera moaned. “If you destroy that, she’ll only march her troops in here as soon as you’re gone. Her word cannot be trusted!”

Yasha looked over the noblewoman and sighed, as if realizing that such an outcome was not only plausible, but likely. Blueflame weapons had often been the tool of the oppressed, used against wildly better funded and more deadly armies, but that was also what had made them so very dangerous to behind with. They were designed to inflict the maximum amount of carnage and disfigurement. The weapon had only been fired once, but the once had been enough for Lady Rhyphian. Without the threat of the weapon held over her, though, the accord would hold no real bearing. “And the word of a Threatbinder? Is that enough to ensure whatever deal you have is binding?”

“You have no skin in this game, elf,” Rhyphian said. “You should remain out of the matter.”

“Mmm,” Yasha said. “That doesn’t seem like much of an option now does it? I need to destroy the Rackow and I do not want to interrupt these negotiations. So I will come back in a year’s time, and if the agreement’s not been held to…” Yasha looked down at her hand, as a tiny ball of orange flame moved like a comet across the surface of her skin, the heat of it warming the tent, casting light across the surface of the inside. “I will burn your entire kingdom down to ash and let those you have oppressed take possession of the burnt land.”

“Isn’t that in violation of the rules you people follow?”

“We are obligated to dispatch sancaktepe escort blueflame weapons but we are entitled use whatever sort of discretion we want for settling the dispute,” Yasha said. “And I’m itching to let loose on an army, so the idea of being able to use the destruction of your castle as a selling point is rather a delicious one.” The ripple of fire sparkled bright and beautiful.

The noblewoman considered her options for a moment before sighing. “A year’s delay only, yes? If I need to come back in two years with raised taxes, how will I know that you won’t descend upon me and my home like a plague of locusts?”

“You don’t,” Yasha said, a wry smile crossing her lips as the rivulet of flame corkscrewed up along her arm and then moved to halo around her head. “But you have my word that as long as a fair agreement is reached, I will refrain from interfering.”

“Ah, but fair in whose eyes, Lady Threatbinder?”

“All parties involved, or, barring that, to a neutral arbitrator. I can have one come by every year for a couple of years if both parties would feel more comfortable with that.”

Arkady had always been amazed by his wife’s level of patience regarding this sort of bullshit. It was the kind of thing that made him want to pull his beard out, people wanting to convince themselves they were too important for compromises to be made. Being a Threatbinder came with a surprising amount of diplomacy, and Arkady found it all so tedious. He was capable of diplomacy, but it certainly wasn’t how he enjoyed spending his time, nor did he like how long it typically involved.

“I suppose it will need to be good enough,” Lady Rhyphian acquiesced.

“We will go and dismantle the Rackow while you two hammer out any remaining details,” Yasha said, as they made their way to the exit of the tent, heading over towards Quiesh. “I can–“

“No no,” Arkady said as they stepped back up onto the carriage. “I already bear the scars from a few of these weapons on my psyche, my love. There’s no need for you to take on one while I have all the others. I have learned how to manage it and would rather you continue to sleep easy.”

“What scars is he talking about?” Moonweave asked Sophia.

“I don’t know, Moonie,” Sophia whispered back. “Ask Yasha.”

The pixie flitted over towards the tall elf’s ear, hovering near there as her tiny wings flapped frantically. “M’lady, what scars is he talking about?”

As Quiesh lifted only somewhat into the air, Yasha directed their friend to head over towards where the Rackow was situated on the front lines. “Blueflame weapons are created using dark magics, things that involve ripping souls from living creatures and imbuing them into the weapon itself. To destroy them, a mage must destroy those souls as well. They cannot be salvaged or saved; they are lost to the infinite void forever. And when a mage destroys those souls, there’s a certain amount of grief that passes through them. We’ve dismantled about a dozen blueflame weapons over the centures, but it never gets any easier to do. My husband will be… overly dour for a while after this.”

The griffon stayed low as loads of farmers and craftsman looked up in awe, a couple of them reaching up, as if hoping to brush their fingers against the majestic creature’s feathers, even though they were far too high above them. Griffons were uncommon over these parts and Quiesh was maybe the first of her kind that any of them had ever seen. When she landed down near the Rackow, many townsfolk slowly crowded around her in amazement, although none of them wanted to get close enough to touch her, for their own safety.

“Do you want company for this?” Sophia asked the dwarf, as he moved to descend down the stairs from the carriage.

“No no,” Arkady said. “It’s probably best you don’t see any of this. It can be… taxing on even the strongest of souls. This is work for those of us with steeled constitutions and reinforced minds. It’s not work that humans are generally suited for, and I would rather spare you from the taxing repercussions of all of this.”

Sophia placed her hand on Arkady’s shoulder, holding tenderly for a long moment. “We’re partners now, Arkady. You need to let us take care of you when you’re hurting.”

The dwarf sighed, bringing his hands up to his eyes for a moment. “We can discuss this when I’m back. It won’t take all that long.” He stepped away from her, but stopped as he felt her arms wrapping around his neck, giving him a firm hug from behind before kissing his cheek, releasing him to do his horrible task.

He much rather would’ve preferred to let Yasha do this, but he also knew the toll it might take on her, and he wished to spare her carrying that additional weight upon her soul, because, in for a nugget, in for the whole claim. The dwarven mage could recall the first time he’d destroyed a blueflame weapon, the mental agony and torment he’d endured for the weeks that followed, the afterimages of the souls he’d destroyed lingering like the memory of lightning seen first-hand.

Two humans moved to step in front of him, guards standing at their post. They were barely more than boys, spots still on their faces and nary a decent dream of a beard between them. “Sorry, master mage,” one of them said, “but we’re supposed to protect this thing with our lives.”

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I hope folks are enjoying the story so far. Please leave comments, as criticism both positive and constructive is inherently useful. Plus, I like reading comments, so that’s cool.

Chapter 10:

Captain Gorsini lay alongside the Dark Elf simply holding the woman and drawing in her enticing scent, her unbound silver hair was splayed about her shoulders, and he luxuriated in the feeling of her naked form moulded against him. He ran his hand across her shoulders, tracing his fingers along the silken smoothness of her skin, down the front of her body and over the woman’s breasts as he kissed the back of her neck. She responded with a happy sigh of contentment.

Neither of them was a passive lover and their bout of love-play had become increasingly frenzied as the night wore on until they both collapsed, panting, laughing and covered in a light sheen of sweat. After another drink of spiced rum and a mouthful of sweet fruit and berries, they had begun again, only more gently this time, and with no little tenderness. Afterwards, they simply lay alongside each other dozing in the serene afterglow of their nocturnal activities.

Gorsini sighed, “I know we are foes, but if it ever comes to pass you wear my collar, I want you to know I’d treat you fairly, for what it’s worth.”

Ashunara giggled, she hated it when she giggled for it made her sound like a witless child instead of a mature woman of some four hundred and twenty winters.

“Would you not sell me for coin then?”

He grinned, sensing the game she played, “Never. I’d keep you all to myself, and you would satisfy my every need.”

“And if I didn’t?”

“Well, then I’d have to apply suitable correction, but gently I think.”

The Dark Elf slid her hands lower, and he felt her razor-sharp nails playing along his thigh, “Well, I thank you kindly ‘Master’, I doubt I’d deserve such tenderness though, for I imagine I’d be quite a troublesome slave.”

He laughed, “Of that, I have absolutely no doubt milady, I suspect within weeks it would be you ruling my household, and not the other way round. But what of me, would I receive fair and gentle treatment?”

“Fuck no! I’d ride you like my best horse and sell you the moment I grew bored of you.”

“Aw, you say the sweetest things, Captain. But I mean what I say, I’d treat you fair, and see you safely ransomed home if such was your wish.”

“Go to sleep, you foolish man.”

He kissed her again on the back of the neck, “You are a hard woman Ashunara, have you no soft words for me?”

“Oh dear Gods! You are so typically human. Ever has your kind been ruled by your passions and not by your wits. I am a Dark Elf, I have no interest in sentiment, in truth, I cannot afford it, for in a hundred years you will be dead and mouldering in a barrow, and I will be as unchanged as I am now. If you want soft words, go sleep with yon blonde trollop outside! Maybe once you’re done making moon-eyes at each other she’ll sing you a lullaby. Now either make love to me again or go to sleep.”

Gorsini chuckled, “Well, if those are the only choices, I know which one I prefer, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close once more.

Ashunara turned to kiss him, “Better, maybe there’s hope for you yet human.”

Outside Tallis sat by the fire still sharing a warm blanket with the tall blonde woman. She had spent the evening in talk with her, asking of her homeland and listening avidly to tales of storm giants and midwinter feasts in wondrous mead halls of legend. The foreign woman’s voice was melodic and evocative, her smile was warm, and her grey eyes had an alluring quality that seemed to draw in the young Dark Elf.

Tallis had seemed fascinated by the braided gold torc worn by the woman and also by the tattoo on her neck and she found herself recounting the tale of the strange woman they had taken in.

“So, she has a tattoo like mine?”

Tallis toyed with the braided gold before stroking the woman’s neck, “Not precisely, hers paints a more complete picture shall we say, it is more complex, but there is at least a little similarity in form for both your tattoos appear to have a certain serpentine quality to them. This jewellery is most interesting, do you revere dragons?”

“Dragons?”

“This serpentine shape and the engraving, it has the look of a dragon.”

“Oh! We call such things a ‘wyrm’, and aye, they are mighty creatures of great power. They are to be feared and only the very foolish would show them disrespect.”

The Dark Elf toyed with the torc for a few moments more before tracing her finger lightly down across the woman’s throat, “The way you describe your kingdom makes it seem to be half-way between the Fae realm and the lands of men.”

Magda mused for a while, “Perhaps so, for we have our magics as well as rituals and customs to ward off trolls and draugr.”

“Draugr?”

“They are the undead, unquiet spirits who haunt graves and barrows.”

“Ah, wights?”

“I’ve tuzla escort heard the term; it seems to fit. Indeed, there are many similarities in our lands, though the creatures you describe as trolls are not as we would call them.”

Tallis leaned closer, her gaze met that of the blonde woman and her voice was almost a whisper, “How so?”

Magda swallowed nervously as she stared into those strangely distracting red eyes and tried to focus on her tale, “In my land trolls are also creatures of great cunning and magical power, while here they are described more as ogres. The things you call ‘hags’ seem more trollish to me.”

“I enjoy listening to your tales Magda, you seem well travelled.”

The human woman nodded, “Ever was I unsettled. The witch-woman who was my mother’s midwife says I am possessed by a restless spirit. I love collecting stories and songs and always have I wanted to see what is over the next hill. Some say it is a curse of sorts for it means I’ll never have a home or family of my own.”

“It sounds lonely,” the Dark Elf’s fingers played idly with the woman’s long fair hair, “are you lonely?”

The pale woman trembled, “Sometimes, when I sit alone at a campfire in some wild and remote place, or as I shiver on some damp and drizzly eve, then I might find myself thinking fondly of a warm fireplace and the good cheer of trusted companions. But like as not the next dawn sees me wondering, “What’s over there,” or “What stories do these folks have to share” and off I wander.”

The Dark Elf nodded as she pulled the blanket closer about them, “But my Captain says you have been here a while, for she speaks of hearing you sing a year and more ago.”

The woman looked at Tallis with a wistful smile, “T’is true I have lingered here longer than is my habit, but there are so many strange folk and stories to be found hereabouts, and oft have I dreamt about the lands of the Fae. It sounds like a wondrous place, full of ancient tales of magic and myth. I think I would give all that I owned to explore such a place.”

Tallis chuckled mischievously as she began to stroke the woman’s neck, “Would you give your freedom?”

Magda quivered at the touch and her voice all but trembled, “Alas no, for that’s the one thing I hold most dear to me. I think if I was tied to one place, one person, I would go mad. I do not think I could suffer it. It’s a regret of mine. I wish I could see your lands though, truly, but they say all who wander there uninvited are taken into bondage.”

The Dark Elf nodded again, “That’s more or less true, for we are a suspicious folk by nature and do not tolerate masterless humans and the like going abroad in our realm. But those in service, or those who are known to us, having already served and earned their freedom, well, that is a different matter. Perhaps if you wish to enter the Fae realm you should seek to indenture yourself with some company of travelling harpers, explorers or cartographers. Thus, you could see out your term of service and have an answer for those who would question your presence in our domain.”

The woman looked to her and raised an eyebrow, “Do you think this possible?”

“I don’t see why not. My own mother would take you in, though that would be as a slave of our house, and perhaps not entirely to your liking. They say she’s a cold and ruthless sort, and that’s true enough, but she enjoys music and would happily show you off at any affairs she might host. Like as not she would consider it a coup to have such an exotic creature to entertain her company. And while she would hardly be the friendliest of sorts, she would rigidly abide by any contract you had between you, and she rewards loyal service. If you proved yourself to her, she would probably allow you to explore, provided it did not interfere with any purpose of her own.”

“Forgive me, but you paint something of a cruel picture of her.”

Tallis smiled, “I think ‘ruthless’ might be more accurate a description of her nature than ‘cruel’, but unless you insulted or disobeyed her, and provided you were respectful and not overly familiar, she would not abuse you. In truth I think she despises wanton cruelty and sees it as weakness.”

“Weakness?”

“To her cruelty without purpose is nothing more than petty indulgence. Now that’s not to say she wouldn’t wring the marrow from your bones if it suited her design, but she would never do such a thing on a simple whim.”

Mahda stared wide-eyed at the woman, “And this is your mother?”

Tallis laughed, a darkly musical sound that Magda found equal parts terrifying and tantalizing, “We are Dark Elves. Let us just say we look at things from a different perspective and leave it at that.”

“Indeed.”

Magda frowned at the Dark Elf for at the beginning of the evening, it had seemed that Tallis listened in wide-eyed fascination to the foreign woman, but strangely the encounter with the bound and gagged pendik escort Dark Elven captive seemed to have dampened her spirit somewhat, and she saw her glance frequently at the bound woman.

Magda put her arm about her and pulled her close as she tried to speak a few words of comfort, “She has not been harmed Tallis, I swear it. Other than being bound and stripped neither Gorsini nor any of his folk have laid a hand upon her.”

Tallis nodded as she pressed herself against the blonde woman and pulled the blanket closer about them as she whispered, “I know.”

She leaned her head on the woman’s shoulder and sighed. Magda for her part stared at the burning embers and shaking her head sadly she began to hum an old tune she recalled as a girl, only to stop as the cold edge of a razor-sharp blade touched her thigh, and then she realised how a fly might feel once it had been enticed into a spider’s web.

Glancing down she saw the blade in the girl’s hand was concealed by the blanket and when she looked into the smouldering red eyes of the Dark Elf, she felt a shiver of fear run through her. Those strange alien eyes were unblinking and no longer held the slightest trace of the sympathy and warmth of earlier.

Tallis’s voice was a bitter, betrayed whisper as she leaned close to the woman, “You ensorcelled me?”

Magda swallowed, “A minor enchantment, nothing more, I… I swear it.”

The blade pressed down slightly, “Is that why my Captain went off with that human so easily?”

“No! The spell washed off her like water off a stone, her will is too strong for such a gentle charm. And even if it did not, that would be a vile act, to make her behave so, and I would do no such thing to her.”

The Dark Elf’s voice held an edge of anger, “But I’m weak, is that what you say?”

“No, not weak, more…,” the woman sighed, “you are more of a romantic I would say, you dream more, I think. It makes you slightly more malleable is all.”

“What is the purpose of this charm? And be warned, if I think you lie, I will open up the artery beneath my blade and spill your blood like water from a jug.”

The woman nodded, “I understand, and I feel your anger at being tricked, but the spell was meant to make you less crafty is all, lower your inhibitions and induce you to reveal your thoughts a little, nothing more. I have not harmed you.”

“Why?”

“Gorsini wanted to be sure that there was no subterfuge or hostile scheme planned and that we could trust your intentions. If you had some malicious intent, you would like as not have spoken of it to me under the influence of the charm. That’s all! I swear it.”

“Then why did I share a blanket with you and damned near hug and embrace you so? Why am I yet drawn to you?”

The woman chuckled, but the feel of the blade across her thigh had a sobering effect and she quashed the desire to laugh, “It’s a side effect of the charm, nothing more. It will fade soon enough. And I took no advantage, in fact, I doubt I could have, for all you did was talk of this Sunkissed girl you clearly fancy. In truth, I’m almost envious.”

Tallis leaned in close as if she was about to kiss the woman but instead of feeling warm lips the woman heard a cold whisper, “Break this charm now, or I’m going to kill you.”

“You already broke it yourself; it was but a small spell, nothing more. We just… had to be sure. I… I’m sorry.”

The Dark Elf leaned back and stared into the woman’s grey eyes, “Are you sorry?”

Magda sighed, “Truthfully? No, not really. We needed to know, so I did what I had to do.”

Tallis gave the woman a genuine smile and withdrew her blade, “That’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard yet. And are you satisfied now?”

“As well as I can be. You certainly have no inkling of any subterfuge or treachery planned by your Captain, but I cannot know for certain what thoughts she has in her mind. Not without weaving a more powerful song. If I attempted such, she would certainly recognise my intent and like as not murder me.”

Tallis imagined Ashunara’s reaction to any attempt to enchant her and shuddered at the thought, “Well, the Captain is less… forgiving than I am, that much is certain.”

Magda looked at the young Dark Elf with some amazement, “Are you not angry with me?”

“I am angry with myself, for being so feeble-witted that I allowed myself to be ensnared by your web. But no, I am not angry at you. Using magic and subterfuge to obtain knowledge or advantage is part of our very nature. Indeed, I would have been insulted had I known you had this ability and deemed me not worth the bother. Had you harmed me though, or if I thought you had coerced my Captain into her licentious behaviour then, well let’s just say we would not be having this conversation.”

“You are not feeble-witted Tallis, you half-suspected what I was about I think, and you broke the enchantment yourself quickly enough.”

“Yes, how exactly maltepe escort did I do that?”

“It was when that idiot angered you, the strong emotion purged my charm like a tonic. Any such strong feeling, or perhaps a sensation, such as a hurt or pain, would do the same. I should have realised it.”

“And when you were humming your little tune there, were you trying to charm me again?”

Magda blushed, “Actually no, I just enjoyed the feeling of you leaning against me and I was humming a tune I remembered from when I was a child, I… I thought you might like it, nothing more.”

The Dark Elf leaned back against her again, “Then hum your tune, it’s pleasing enough to listen to, but you best keep your damned hands to yourself woman, I’m spoken for.”

Magda sighed, “Pity.”

…

Come morning Ashunara rose and dressed in her mail. Gorsini, much like the Dark Elf, had similarly awoken as the dawn’s early light had barely begun to pierce the dark shadows outside. He had also garbed himself in gambeson and mail, though he was slower as he had paused to enjoy the spectacle of the woman dressing.

The Dark Elf grinned as she struggled with her boots, “Enjoying the show?”

Gorsini smiled as he reached around her lithe waist to help buckle her sword belt about her, “Very much so Captain, though I think, perhaps, I enjoyed watching you taking it off all the more, but it’s a close-run thing.”

Once armed and armoured Ashunara turned and stood before him, one hand on hip and the other on the pommel of her sword, “Well Captain, do I pass muster?”

“Indeed, you do. It was an honour to offer you the… ahem, hospitality of my tent.”

Ashunara grinned, “I’ve had worse evenings.”

The man laughed and theatrically clutched his heart, “Argh! I’m wounded.”

Ashunara stepped closer, “You spoke of what would happen if I ever wore your collar?”

He sobered, “I did.”

The Dark Elf nodded, “I make it my business to know the quality of my enemies Gorsini and you are a known sword. You have taken more than a few of my kind in raids and knowing that we might one day meet on the field I sought out those who had been taken by you and later ransomed, so I might learn what I could of you.”

He smiled, “And what did you learn milady?”

“They say you are a hard and ruthless man in battle, a cunning commander and a devious foe.”

“Is that all they say of me Ashunara?”

“No, they say that you treated them fairly, that you did not indulge in abuse, brutality or rape, and when it came to ransom you dealt with them honourably. So I want you to know, if it ever does come to us facing off across a field one day then you best ward yourself, for I’ll cut your throat from ear to ear in the blink of an eye if I get the chance,” she leaned in close and kissed him to take the sting from her words, “but, for what little it’s worth, I’d regret it, and trust me, from a Dark Elf that’s no small thing.”

He stared into her all but black eyes for a long time before he shook himself, “You know, it goes to illustrate the insanity of my life, but that’s probably the nicest thing anyone has said to me in years.”

Ashunara laughed, “Oh, and one last thing. If that lanky blonde doxy of yours ever casts a spell at me again I’m going to slice off your manhood.”

“That sounds fair,” he braced himself, “ready?”

She nodded, and with practiced ease dismissed the smile from her lips, “Let’s do this.”

Outside Gorsini quickly noted the captive Dark Elf was still naked, bound and gagged, though her blindfold had been removed and she was now staring daggers at the younger Dark Elf standing nearby, presumably trying to look innocent.

He had no idea what an innocent Dark Elf looked like, but he recognised the nervous glances the young woman was giving her Captain and he grinned, “Interesting to know that recruits act the same no matter their ilk.”

He stifled the grin and turned to Magda, “I thought I instructed that the prisoner be unbound and dressed, what happened?”

The skáld shrugged, “She became a bit of a bore, so we left her as she was.”

He sniffed, “Fair enough. How fares the company?”

“We received word from the Dark Elves that Lamberson lives and is much improved. They have him in a travois and he will be ready to travel as we pass their position. Our surgeon returned to us during the night and says that while the man requires to be dragged for now, he’s no longer in danger and will be able to walk once he recovers from losing so much blood, so perhaps only a day or two before he’s back on his feet.”

“Good news indeed Magda, anything else?”

“Yes, Captain, Dana returned in the wee hours and reports signs of pursuit. They will be here in about a day and a half, she left her brother to keep a watch and intends to return to him once she has rested.”

Gorsini nodded, “Well enough, but instruct her instead to go to the Dark Elven encampment as per my agreement with their good Captain and await their pleasure until our company has passed their position. In the meanwhile, what of us?”

“Breakfast is all but done, and the camp prepared. Once your tent is dismantled, we will be ready to march. Oh,” she turned to Ashunara, “Dana again offers her thanks for being so well treated by your company Captain.”

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Sothshore stared at me in bewilderment as I finished my third plate of food before I moved onto my fourth. Cheese, bread, fish, chicken, and so much more were piled into my stomach while Ellen read off the ship’s report. I could kind of tell she was…curious as to my behavior, but I couldn’t help it. As soon as I had woken up this morning, I had been hungry. If ye could hazard a guess, then I’m sure ye could figure out why.

That said, I wondered why everything I ate seemed to be dropping into some type of abyss from which there was no substance. I could only eat, and eat, and eat, but nothing filled me up. It wasn’t until my sixth plate that my stomach actually felt something akin to being full. I placed the sixth wooden plate down and exhaled.

“Did you really just feast upon a meal fit for seven or eight men?” Ellen asked.

“I cannot desire to have my hunger sated?” I asked. I found joy in the look that Ellen gave me. How was I to know that a night with the witch would drain me of so much energy? Hell, I ought to count my blessings that my soul wasn’t sucked out of my mortal confines. I’d rather not say it, but I wondered if Liara actually tried to do that last night.

I heard Sothshore snort. “At least I got to see the witch limp from your quarters. I needed the hearty laugh,” she replied before she finished off her report while I continued my ways into alchemy. The green liquid which I had concocted before Liara drove me into a sex-induced coma had gone cold. Of course, for what I was making, this was no big deal, but it only served to let me remind me that my regular business had awaited me after the pleasure.

If I had to give one disappointment about this morning, then it would have to be that Liara had not been with me when I woke up. As I perhaps said before, I do enjoy the sounds a woman makes when she awakens from her slumber next to me. Plus, the extra body makes the sheets warmer during the cold nights.

“Give it a few more days and you will be the same,” I said, taking down jars and vials for my use.

I was quick to notice that Ellen’s tiny laughter had faded away into silence. I crushed some leaves into tiny fragments before I poured them into the sticky cauldron as well. Thankfully, the fluids hadn’t solidified yet. It made it much easier to weave into the mixture.

Next, I heard the distinct sound of Ellen sucking her teeth. “Aye, you never fail to remind me. Will you be expecting an apology from me for the previous comments before this little voyage of yours? Shall I puffer your ego when you demand that I tell you that you were right? Shall that be your reward for my doubt? Well, just to let ya know, I ain’t apologizing for what I said before! If that be your desire, then you were clearly rewarded with the wrong person!”

I judged the way the water rushed through Ellen’s body. I spared her no glance as I continued working. No doubt my silence must have infuriated her. Within the confines of me own mind, I wager I knew what she might have been trying to do. Perhaps even she knew as well, but refused to acknowledge it.

“You’re dismissed, Ellen,” I said. I then proceeded with a small show of juggling the formerly green, now dark blue liquid. From the cauldron, I tossed it up and jiggled it like some slimy toy that children might play with.

“Dare I ask what you want from me? I’m not some noble count’s holy maiden daughter seeking out love from some gallant knight fucker! You clearly got no qualms fucking any other piece of spread legs on this ship! Why should I be any different?! Maybe I’ll just go fuck someone that ain’t willing to deign me a jester’s toy!”

I heard the slam of my door behind me. I chuckled. Aye, still the fiery bitch that I love so much. However, Sothshore needed correcting on but a few things. I held no need to puff up my ego about being right. I already knew I was. Additionally, though I be a right bastard and a man full of Ares’ lust, I don’t just fuck anything with two open legs. Though I had dreamed and fantasied about dumping load after load of cum into her welcoming cunt, that was not all I desired of her.

Clearly, the fiery businesswoman held some resistance to understanding that. As I leaned back in my chair, I thought about her words. As I had stated before, I had no issues if my lovers had other partners. I rather find a thrill in it, but something in Sothshore’s words made me reconsider these things. It served to remind me of Leah and my death. Her sweet kisses upon the lips of other men, her cunt massaging cocks like some cheap whore, and their hands caressing the body that had been my desire, filled my mind.

I continued to juggle my mixture in silence before I swirled it back into the cauldron. I dropped small pieces of iron ore into the pot and watched a significant amount of steam release itself. I scrunched my nose from the rather strong smell.

A knock on my door alerted me and I spoke. “Enter,” I said.

The door opened and I noticed my mother open and close the door. She quickly placed her hand çeşme escort over her nose. “What manner of foul shit are you mixing with this time?” She asked.

“Something that should prove most meaningful in the days to come. Now, how might I aid you?” I asked.

My mother stared at me for a long while. She then glanced back over the door. “Something happen between you and Sothshore? She grabbed one of the workers by the scruff of his neck and led him to the lower decks,” my mother replied.

I wondered if I had turned around fast enough that my mother would not have noticed the way the smile that had been on my face had lessened. “Mother, come here,” I said.

The sound of her steps grew closer and closer until I grabbed her and pulled her into my embrace. I think by this time my mother was used to me doing this. She offered no resistance and simply shifted her ass for a better position. Ya might not think it possible that blood would even desire to rush into my cock, but it did. Soon, my dick was prepared for that old mating dance once again. That said, it did hurt a bit.

“Mother, if I wanted you to fuck or suck some other bastard’s cock in front of me, would ya do it?” I asked.

My mother stared at me for a number of moments as if to gather her thoughts. I could tell that my question had upset her even if she didn’t have the face to show it. What type of face would a woman who has sucked more than her fair share of cocks to keep our home running aught to have made?

“AUGH!” I groaned as I felt my mother punch me in the arm rather painfully.

“You’re lucky I did that instead of entertaining my thoughts of blasting a bullet between your eyes, you piece of shit,” she replied.

I settled for a chuckle as the sting in my arm began to make itself known. That said, despite the pain, I took notice that my mother still did not remove herself from me. Instead, she leaned forward and her head rested in the nape of my neck. I enjoyed the smell and feel of her auburn hair. Her hands rested on my thighs and she tenderly stroked them. Admit I will, it was hard to focus.

After some time, my mother spoke. “I’d do it if it made yer fucking ass happy. I already said you be the head of our house. I also stated that I would follow your orders, Eric. If ya want me to fuck someone then I will. If ya want me to parade naked across the ship for the rest of the voyage, then I’ll hate you for it, but I will. As you’ve told me, it’s not my body, it’s yours. I suppose I’m just taking care of it,” she said.

I didn’t speak for a moment and simply allowed my mother to finish when she pleased. Instead, I settled for caressing her arms. “I hope ya get this through both your shitty heads. I’ll do what makes you happy, but you’re the only piece of shit whose cock I want to fuck or suck. I’ve sucked enough men off that I can’t really stand anyone else, but you. That sate your ego?” she asked.

I chuckled. “And the fact that I take women other than you into my chambers doesn’t bother you?” I asked.

My mother rolled her eyes. “I welcome the fucking help. I pity any woman who captures the heart of a horny bastard like you. Besides, you keep fucking me, and the only crew you’re gonna have is gonna be suckling on my teets,” she said which made me laugh.

We sat in silence for some more time. The only sound that was heard was the sloshing of my fluids in my cauldron. “So…whose cock am I sucking to make my son a happy sailor?” My mother then asked.

I smiled and shook my head. “None this day, mother. Perhaps none ever. Now that I see it, the thought doesn’t appeal to me like I assume it might,” I said. I didn’t have to look at my mother’s face to know that she was smiling. No, ever since I had tasked Maeloson and Aesteal with turning Dorin into food for the gulls and creatures on the sandy shores, I had desired no man other than myself to lay a claim to my mother.

Regardless of how our relationship had turned out, I do still hold the highest forms of respect for my mother. One should say that if not for her, I might not be this shitty bastard than I am right now. That said, I was aware of just how much she trusted in my judgment. Whether by my desires, or my title as captain, she submitted herself to me and trusted that I would take care of her. I held doubts that I could live up to that trust if I was back in my original age with my original hotheaded young adult mind.

No, perhaps what I felt with my mother, Aesteal, Ellen, Diane, and even Liara perhaps, was something even I was continuing to uncover about myself.

“Mom, kiss me,” I ordered.

Without word of acknowledgment or complaint, my mother raised her head and I stared into her lovely eyes. I then found my vision of my cauldron obstructed by her face as her lips laid on mine. Her lips were soft and the sting of saltwater laid upon them, but I could also taste the lingering drops of her breakfast. She tasted of some berries that we must have bought from one of the markets.

My başakşehir escort mother’s tongue sought out mine and I gave it to her without trouble. Her lips suckled on it while she pulled up one of her hands to caress the side of my face. My skin tickled from her touch and her tongue slid across the surface of my teeth while I held her in my arms. Her body, this body that I had refined from its decrepit state, seemed so perfectly attuned to my own. The thought does occur to me that perhaps there is a tying aura that brings parents and their children together should they undertake this unholy route which we have. I feel a sense of ease when she is within my embrace.

Aye, my mother, my woman.

We parted and I decided not to point out the erect nipples stabbing my mother’s shirt. “Has that sated you?” she asked.

I laughed. “Not quite,” I replied. I lifted up my hips and pushed my erection against her mound which made her stiffen. Clearly, I be a glutton for punishment. Either that or my cock is the one that enjoys such a thing. Perhaps the lingering effects of my lust from my night with Liara still permeated the air which fueled the fires of my usually spent cock. I’d imagine that my time with Liara had granted me some sexual awakening. Well, perhaps more than what I was used to anyway.

My mother pulled down her pants and tossed them to the side. I did the same and it wasn’t long before we both groaned as my cock filled up her lovely cunt once again. Seas, if I could somehow live with my cock forever buried in the body of my mother then I’d be tempted to say I’d try it.

“Mmmmmmph, you might be a bastard, Eric, but your mother can’t deny that she loves your cock,” my mother said as her tight hole engulfed my cock until her pelvis had met mine. She then slowly began to grind her hips rubbing, caressing, and tightening her walls around my phallus.

“Enjoy it, mother. It shall be here for you should you ask, or if I’m ever in the mood to fuck you,” I said. My mother slapped my arm, but she didn’t stop her movements before I lifted her body further on my chair. Then we both began to rock our hips as we surrendered to the pleasure. Aye, I know I had some important things to do, but allow me to say that my cock tempted me too hard this once.

Anyway, as I held my mother in this way, there was no indication of the relationship that I had established with her before. I sought my own pleasure not in her submissiveness, but in her warm, willing, delicate body. By the eyes soaring in the clouds of lust on her face, I can tell she felt the same. Her arms around my neck, her chest in my face, and her breath on my forehead, we enjoyed this moment as mother and son in the throes of incestuous rapture.

“Oooooooooh! Oh god Eric!” My mother exclaimed as she continued to hold me. My arms on her hips, I matched her movements. My cock slid in and out, in and out from her soaked mound. She leaned down to kiss me and I tilted my head up. Her lips caught my own and she panted with great need in them.

We fucked slowly. There was no aggression to be had within this act. We cared not to fuck, but rather I made love to my mother, this woman who had birthed me. My legs trembled and my cock was graced with a thousand flames and shudders of lightning. “Haaaa…ahhhhhh…yessssssssssss! Ooooooooh goooooooods! Yes, fuck me! Fuck your mother, you horny piece of shit,” she urged.

Her hips continued to bounce on my cock as I pushed mine up to meet hers. Still, we did not move much faster. We enjoyed this rather slow pace. This slow movement fulfilled us both. I kissed her neck while her arms cradled my head. “Forever, mother. I’m gonna fuck you forever!” I proclaimed.

I noticed her pussy had squeezed my flesh pistol when I said that.

“Does that excite you, mother? I bet that excites you well, Ira. To know that your son desires your body so much that he’d like nothing more than to deposit his seed into it endlessly. To fuck you, breed you, take care of you, and satisfy you all the days of your life,” I said, nay whispered into her ear.

Her cunt squeezed me again.

“Oooooh fuck! Oh god yes, Eric! F-Fuck yes, I’d keep your cock inside me all the time if I fucking could! Mmmmmmmmaaauuuuuugh, the pits of Hell await us for this, but I’d swim in them as long as you kept fucking me!” she said. Her tongue tickled my ears as we slowly increased our rhythm with each other.

“Dear mother, not even Hell shall keep you from me,” I told her as the sounds of my rocking chair filled our ears.

“Ooooooh…ooooh my god. I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum from your fucking cock, Eric!” My mother announced. It wasn’t long before I felt her cunt clamp down like a killer crab on my tool. Rich sex juice spilled onto my lap, but I did not cease my assault. My mother continued to hold me and kiss me ready to ride these feelings we shared with each other.

Pretty soon, it wasn’t long before I too felt the call of nature’s coital küçükçekmece escort embrace. I leaned my head back and groaned as my legs lost all sense of feeling. The chambers of my cock had unlocked the sticky, potent flames of my cum into my mother’s waiting body. I could feel her pussy cling to me desperate to not let my seed hit the floor. It might have been because I was delirious from the pleasure, but when I came, I could have sworn my mother’s eyes had turned solid white. They were as pure as clouds.

“Mmmmmmmmmoooooooo, your cum is so hot!” She stated.

“Keep up that talk and I won’t get any work done except if it be on you,” I replied.

The last vestiges of my cum filled my mother and my vision slowly returned. Her eyes were not white at all, well…none more than any regular human’s be. I wondered if I had just imagined it in the time that my brain had felt her take me away.

“I wouldn’t be averse to it, you horny bastard,” She said. I smiled. Aye, I bet she wouldn’t.

We stayed like this for a little while as if to settle ourselves. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on some factors, my lust was not so high that I could handle another round so eagerly. When she stood up, my flaccid cock slipped from her body. We kissed once more and she reached for her shorts. When she moved to pull them up, I stopped her.

“Gimme the panties. Walk around without them on. I can’t resist the thought of my mother traversing a ship full of horny bastards and bitches with a belly full of cum,” I said.

My mother stared at me for a moment before she exhaled. “Ya make it real hard to not want to shoot you, Eric,” she replied. However, she stepped out of her shorts and handed me her cotton material all the same.

As I suspected, it was full of her musk and her leftover fluids. She then pulled up her shorts and buttoned them while I did the same. Then, I teased her by stuffing her panties in my pockets.

“Enjoy the rest of your day, mother. Also, in two hours, bring the crew together for me,” I said.

“Yes Eric,” she replied. She then moved to straighten her messed up hair as well, but I stopped that as well. I doubt it took a scholar to know what I was going to say.

I smirked. “Keep it that way. I want you looking freshly fucked when you leave my quarters. I might not let other men fuck you, but imagine how hard their cocks will get when they see my mother and wonder of all the depraved things I did to you not knowing my seed swims inside you at this very moment,” I reasoned.

Despite the glare from my mother, I could tell that the idea turned her on that she cared to admit. So, with wrinkled clothes, messed up hair, a cunt full of cum, and no panties to aid her, my mother opened the door. The sounds of the people filled the decks and she walked outside.

“WooooooooOOOOOooOOO!”

I heard the cheers of my crew as they no doubt took appreciation of my mother while I continued my work with a smile on my face. My thoughts were a tad…restrained due to the knowledge of what Ellen was most likely doing, but I tried not to let it bother me too much. That was a losing battle mind you.

Anyway, the two hours that passed me by didn’t go as long as I had desired. Between my work, which had begun to bear fruit and the understanding that the darkening skies meant the fourth trial was upon me, I had not much time for anything else. The dark blue liquid had turned light red. Empty jars littered my desk while I held my hands over the cauldron and chanted archaic words into it, releasing the magic from my body into its surface. It was only when the sound of heavy thunder enough to quake the air and lightning, green with ghastly magic essence, flashed through the sky did I stop my work.

I pushed myself from my chair and stood to my feet. As I grabbed my coat, I felt a tense shiver of horrific, yet magical power. I had no doubts that Liara had felt it as well.

I stepped outside and, just as I had ordered, everyone was present once again. They all stood around the deck of the ship watching the turbulent waves crash against the side of the ship. Tremendous waves roared in the distance and we all watched the sky scream in agony.

I stood before my crew. I stood before them all. They all were ready to hang onto my every word. I wished I could grant them a confident expression, but I could not. I’m not exactly sure what emotion I had on my face, but it wasn’t a pleasant one. I oddly found it fitting that should we all die then the one I had spent the most joyous time with had been my mother.

I stared at Ellen for a moment, but she refused to meet my gaze. I then turned back to everyone else.

“Alright, ya fuckers, this…should be the last trial. Steel yourselves and fasten your guts. This…is where we shall either seek fame…or seek the Realm of Hades,” I said. They all swallowed, but none spoke a word.

I remember this trial well because only I and fifteen others had survived it.

I inhaled and exhaled. I spared a glance at Liara and she paid appropriate attention to me just like anyone else would. I spoke. “Whatever tales you have heard of this sea, or whatever bard has woven a song for you, then you most likely know…of the Father and the Son. What…what I be about to tell you ain’t pretty and you shall think me insane, but if you wish to live…then you will do as I say!” I exclaimed.

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Disclaimer

This story is of my own creation based on historical events or mysterious happenings here on Earth.

Tags: Violence, Blood, Drama, Love, Sex, Intercourse, Interspecies, Consensual, History, Myth, Magic, Gods, Scalie, Anthro, Male Dragon, Female Human, Romance, M/F

Disclaimer 1: Due to Literotica’s rules, I’m unable to load the entire book of Ryujin and the Tales of Heroes unto Literotica. The story of Ryujin is a collection of stories and a part of that book saga. It’s highly recommended that you check out the other websites to get the full story.

Disclaimer 2: This story is meant for adults (age 18 or over) since it deals with adult oriented themes including violence and sex

Special Thanks to my Patreon supporters:

Robert Carnahan, Christof Bradford, Jordy, Frank Nordhaus, Mike Nixon, Quintin Martin, Nightsound, and Anthony Kestle for their generous donations

And of course, the other patron supporters for allowing me to write and supporting the universe that I write. 🙂

By CMed

Prologue

What if we live in a world that the deities exist?

What if we live in a world where myths were real?

What if we live in a world knowing that the folklores were true?

What if we live in a world in that the fairy tales were real?

What if we live in a world where history and myth intersect?

What do you believe?…..

Chapter 1: May 1st, 1645

“Darkness…….”

“Where am I?” a voice said out loud. “I see nothing but darkness all around me.”

There was an eerie sound. It was the sound of nothing. Only weightlessness permeated the male voice.

“I don’t remember anything……just pain. I feel like I am spinning, but there is nothing around me. I feel weightlessness. What do I do?”

The sound of nothingness filled the scene once again. There was no sound as he looked, but again there was nothing. He opened his eyes and saw the blackness of space. The pain continued.

“Who am I?” he asked himself. “My memory, there is nothing.”

He did not know what he was or what he was doing. It was space that he felt.

“Perhaps……I should just close my eyes. I feel so tired. I feel like something bad had happened.”

The eyes closed as the male voice feels sleep hit him. Suddenly he opens his eyes as he looks and can see a blue planet come into his view.

“How long have I been out? That…..whatever, that is, is getting close. I still feel tired……maybe more sleep will calm me down…….”

It was as if time was progressing but slowly. He stared at the blue ball in the darkness around him. The pain persisted in his body.

“Wha?……What has happened?…..I have been asleep again. The ball is so big now. I see white, blue, and what looks like brown and orange coming from it. Perhaps I see green?…. Why is this happening? Why do I feel pain? I want it to stop. I feel so tired…..,” he said as he closed his eyes once again.

He felt the heat hit his body. His body turned red as he was being drawn to something. The heat did no damage, but he could still feel it. He opened his eyes once again.

“Fire……I see fire everywhere. They make my….scales…..I have scales?” he asked as he looked at his arm. “Yes…..my……fire won’t stop. It’s as if the darkness became light instantly. I can’t…….feel like…..staying awake.”

Falling……the heat vanished as he felt his body fall. His eyes were closed as his body fell at a terrifying speed. Wind and rushing air blew at him at a harsh rate. There was something in his hand as it opened. The item flew away and dropped. No one, but maybe he knew what flew from his hand. The speckled armor that he wore was cooked to a solid black. The blue scales were damaged, but he appeared to be alive. Alive but falling, but to where?……

During his blackout, his eyes momentarily opened up to reveal the blue stuff……water. It was water that he saw. The falling was drawing him towards it as his eyes closed again. Time seemed to pass as he opened his eyes and saw an island. It was a large island like a piece of land that was near a massive continent. He saw the island get bigger and bigger. Besides, that island to the northwest was what looked like another much bigger island.

“I am falling……to where am I falling?” he asked.

Time seemed to pass more and more. He looked at himself that he could and noticed that not only he had scales, but also wings. Part of his right-wing was torn and damaged. He could still feel himself tumbling in the air plummeting to the ground. He could feel what felt like a tail that swung freely in the air behind him.

“I feel……the need to fly……I must try…..” he struggled to say.

He was still heading to the ground at a phenomenal speed. He could see the land get bigger and bigger. He was less than a minute before he would impact the ground. He struggled to move his wings, but he was too weak. He only continued to tumble in the air.

“I can’t move……move them…..I must…….,” maltepe escort he said as he could see the blue sky and then the ground once again as he rolled in the air. He closed his eyes and knew his fate. Somehow he had been in space, and then he was tumbling to see the mountains, the trees, the green, and finally…….

He felt branches as he could tell that he was in a vast forest. Trees rushed through his vision as his body slammed into branch after branch, ripping them off the trees in the process. Finally, with a massive crash, he smashed hard into the ground leaving a small crater-like hole where he landed. Dirt, grass, and rubbish from the trees flew in all directions. His massive body remained intact. The creature that fell back to Earth that knew nothing of what happened was unconscious. Only the pile of dirt in the large hole was any indication of what happened. His armor began to shatter and crumble. The blackness of the armor began to fade from him. The armor began to rust and turned into black charcoal-like sand as it began to float into the calm wind to disappear forever. Whatever he was carrying earlier was gone that flew from his hand. His body remained as it was with only the scales on his body to protect him.

As the creature’s eyes were closed, he knew nothing of his fate, what his identity was, or where he was. He remained asleep perhaps for minutes, perhaps for hours, perhaps it was days, maybe it was even years…….

*******

Not far from the Reigandō Cave near the city of Kumamoto Japan on the grand island of Kyushu, an older man walked out of the massive entrance. He walked with a walking cane as he stepped over some rocks. The man looked to be around the age of 60 years old, and he wore a white and red kimono along with his light sandals that protected his feet. His hair was dark gray as it traveled down part of the back of his head. He had a mustache that was dark and gray. He coughed a little bit as he struggled to walk outside the cave entrance.

“Ī tenkidesu ne….. Watashi wa hoshī…….to walk around the area some today,” the Japanese man said to himself. He began to traverse down the steps to the outside.

By the cave entrance was the typical and beautiful countryside forest of Japan. As he traversed down the makeshift steps, his body struggled to keep him walking. The sun was brilliant for the afternoon with a temperature of about 16 degrees Celsius or a little over 60 degrees Fahrenheit. He reached the bottom of the stairs as he took a deep breath. The smell of the forest that consisted of trees such as the black and white pine, along with various other flowers, grew along the path not far from the Uganji temple, where he tried to space himself from the monks. His feet pushed him as he lived a life of peace and relaxation. His long history would mark his thinking as he would walk under the torii wooden gate. His walking cane would smack the ground as he kept his balance. He could hear the various birds that chirped around him.

“Always good for yourself to keep walking….,” he said to himself. His voice was light but steady. His skin mostly wrinkled marked his age as he kept walking.

As he traversed the small hill, he looked over and saw the Jizō statues that lined the hillsides. The little hooded stone and wooden figurine statues sometimes had the bibs put on them to honor the dead and pay respect for those that passed on. The hillside was covered with them as he walked past a monk and waved to him. The monk dressed in his red shaw bowed as he walked past him. The older man himself stopped and bowed to the monk before they walked and continued in their separate ways.

“I mean no disrespect to the monks…..” the old man said out loud to himself. “But, I have learned what a reputation can do to oneself. Everyone will come to search for you. There would be no peace for me, and that is what I need more than anything else right now.”

He continued his long trek as he could see Mount Kinbō as he stopped to look at the tall mountain. He remembered all his writings on that mountain. Standing at an elevation of about 600 meters in elevation or 2000 feet, the mountain was covered in the green forests and trees from where it stood. What is now an extinct volcano, Kinbō was just a place to walk and enjoy. He knew not far were the fields where some grew various vegetables and crops as it got closer to Kumamoto itself.

“I can die happy what I have accomplished,” he said to himself. “I have lived a full life, and my pupils will continue what I taught them,” trying to reassure himself. His stagger would falter a little bit as he continued walking down the path that led away from his solitary cave.

He passed by the stone lanterns that were close to the temple. It was not his job to walk to the temple but simply get some fresh air.

He took a breath as he could smell the saltwater even if it were a little over a mile away from him. The trees did an excellent job masking the scent.

The older man would continue his long walk as he manavgat escort could feel the pain in his body. He could still feel the staggering in his breath.

“Ah…..the pleasure of getting old,” he joked to himself. “Yes…..if I die here in this beautiful place, it will be a good death. It will be away from every one, with only the few that I care close to me to honor me. It will be a good death, and my writings will continue on without me.”

The older man steadied himself on his cane again as he put his hand to his head, feeling the gray hair on his face. He looked at his side and thought about the wrinkled skin of his hand as he decided it was time.

“Time to head back. I have gotten far enough. My body will only take me so far. Yes…..I have gotten far enough.”

The older man turned around and began to walk back. He looked at the forest around him as he walked. His sandals crunched against the soft soil and rocks below it as his cane would push hard to the ground to keep him steady.

His eyes went to the forest to the left of him. He stopped again to look deeply at the trees. There was nothing but lush green trees and grass that lined the area, but something caught his eye. He had no idea what it was, but he swears he saw something. It was faint like it was in the far distance, but the trees carefully masked whatever it was.

“My age must be getting the best of me….” the old man remarked. He looked again, but he didn’t see it. He started to walk again as he then got the glint on his eyes. He stopped and looked back and was sure that he saw something in the distance.

“What is that?” he asked himself as he looked at the sight in the forest. The trees were thick as he tried to see what it was. Whatever it was, it was blue and didn’t appear to be what he thought it was.

“The spirits must be tricking me today….yet,” he got near the edge of the pathway as he stepped behind a tree. His hands pressed to the bark as he looked at the blue speck behind more trees. He had to go and check it out.

Like curiosity in his purest form, his sandals walked away from the long path that led back to his home in the cave. Slowly but surely, he was careful as he would walk behind tree after tree trying to get to this thing or whatever it was. The walking stick he had kept himself balanced as he proceeded further and further. His kimono would occasionally snag against brush and plants as he stepped around them.

“I don’t know what is there, but I swear I saw something there.”

As the older man stepped behind another tree for what seemed like minutes, he could start to see damage to the trees near him. It was as if something significant fell from the sky and smashed into the trees, almost heading straight down. Branches and tree limbs were strewn about. Tree bark and debris were everywhere.

“How?……,” the old man asked as he eventually saw it.

In the center of this damaged area was an anthro like dragon. He or what the old man assumed to be a “he” was lying on his back. He was the color of blue with his scales. His wings were torn and damaged. On his face were two long whisker-like tendrils, one on each side that went down to his chest. He wore no clothes, but there was nothing significant to be seen since it was all inside his body. It looked like he wore something, but it turned to black sand and was mostly gone from him. Part of his body showed signs of damage with minor pits in his scales. It had looked like he was in a terrible fight and lost. The tail showed signs of a small black scar that ran down to his spikes. He had two arms and two legs. His horns were chipped but still there.

“How?……How can this be?…..,” the old man said as he stepped forward some more to the hurt dragon. “Perhaps I have truly gone senile. The legends…..the legends of the dragons….they…..they truly exist. The spirits…..,” he paused. “The spirits have led me here to see this.”

The older man bent over and felt the soft scales to see if this dragon was genuine. He felt the warm heartbeat come from the dragon as he checked the arm. The dragon was breathing with every breath long and staggered. He was alive. That was obvious. He got back on his two feet as he used the cane to steady himself.

“They truly exist…..,” he remarked to himself and smiled. “I might not have much time in this world, but I get to see a dragon…..such an honor to behold. Such power and strength of these creatures…..”

The older man took his cane and began to poke the dragon. The wooden stick he used barely moved it. It looked like he was really heavy. It would be impossible for the older man to move the collapsed dragon.

“This dragon has seen a terrible evil and survived,” the old man spoke again. “I cannot do much to help you. You are too heavy for me to move you.” He looked at the path in the far distance. The trees did an excellent job covering him well. The older man was still deep enough that none could see him or see the fallen dragon. He continued to poke the dragon şişli escort with his cane to spur it.

“I don’t know what I can…..” he was unable to finish his sentence as the dragon began to huff and puff hard. He could see the dragon’s eyes start to open almost as if he was blinded by the sun. His eyes naturally went to the trees and finally to the older man. He breathed hard as the serpentine-like eyes befell the older man.

The dragon was tall at the height of eight feet. His claws cut into the dirt as he struggled to move. The older man could tell he was in pain. The dragon’s first reaction was to say something to him. His snout and mouth moved as he said a few words to him, but the older man shook his head to him. The man did not understand what he had to say. He asked the dragon if he was alright. The dragon looked confused as he tried to understand it. It clicked in his mind, though, as he thought about it. The words and language sounded familiar.

The dragon closed his eyes as he tried to focus. He opened his eyes as he once again tried to talk to him. “Can you understand me?” he asked him.

“Yes…..,” the old man replied back to him. “You speak our language?”

“Yes,” the dragon replied. “I…..I don’t know how, but I understand this language well. It wasn’t until you spoke to me that I felt that I knew this language better than any other language, including English. Where am I?”

The older man listened and could tell the dragon spoke with no accent in his voice. He sounded like he was born from the very nation he himself was born from.

“You are on the island of Kyushu. You are in Japan, sleeping dragon,” the old man replied as he stood still resting on his cane looking down at him.

“Dragon….” The dragon replied as he looked at himself and noted the scales on his fingers and body. He got into a sitting position as he cringed from the pain he felt throughout his body. A little bit of blood seeped from one of his wings as it shifted. “I am……a dragon?”

“Yes, you are,” as the old man gave a questioning look at him. “Do you know who you are and what happened?”

The dragon was still noting his appearance as he looked at the human. He was in deep thought as he tried to put the pieces together. The fact was that nothing looked like it made sense. He could tell that he was clearly different from the human.

“I don’t know where or what this place is,” the dragon said. “I can’t explain how I know this language you speak of. I can’t……” he put his scaly hand to his head and horns. “I can’t remember what I am or how I got here.”

“It sounds like you were in a big struggle and lost much of your memory. From looking at the trees, you fell from a great height. Your body shows damage like you were in a fight.”

“That explains the pain my body feels….” The dragon said as he put his hands to his arms. “I feel so much pain, but…..it isn’t that bad.”

“I see no deep cuts or gashes on your scales from what I can tell. Your left-wing has a tear in it, and I see blood dripping from one of the tips.”

“I feel so weak.”

“What do you know or remember?” the old man asked.

The dragon focused on his thinking. “I remember……..darkness and cold. There was a lot of darkness and cold. I felt like I was spinning in nothing. I was…..I was up there,” he said as he pointed up to the sky.

“The heavens…..,” the old man remarked.

“It felt more than that…..that I was beyond what this……this place is. I felt weightlessness. I felt like I was floating but had no control of where I was going. I was in and out of consciousness. I saw nothing but dots of lights. Stars……I saw the stars. I then saw this……this place.”

“You fell from the heavens……dragon.”

“Is that what I truly am?” he asked the old man.

“That is what you appear to be. You have wings, scales, and the looks of a dragon. I never thought ever to see one so close. I didn’t even think they existed…..or truly existed. The stories and myths were always there, but….to finally see one so close now.”

“Dragon….,” the dragon nodded to himself. “What are you? Are you a dragon too?”

“No,” the old man almost chuckled. “No, but some would think I am. I got more whiskers than even you’ll ever have. Perhaps one day, when you reach my age, you will have too many to count.”

The dragon went and put his hand to one of his long whiskers that stretched from his snout to his chest. It was flexible and stretchy.

“I am human,” the old man explained to the dragon. “We live on this great island, and it connects to another island. Are you well enough to stand?”

The dragon looked at his legs. He could see the clawed talons as he stamped his feet to the grass below him. He then groaned as he put his hands to the dirt and tried to push himself to a standing position. His legs jolted, feeling the pressure of his weight as the muscles and bone buckled to hoist him up. The older man backed away as he watched the dragon put his hands to his leg as he very slowly started to get up. It was agonizing, but the dragon slowly stood up. His teeth and fangs cringed as he felt the pain through his body. Despite the damages, though, he now stood up and towered over the older man. His eight-foot frame made the older man look tiny and small compared to him, but the dragon was still hurting. He grabbed a part of his arm as he tried to shake it off.

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**ARGH!!

I had wanted to write only one more chapter of this and then bring the Martu uprising to an end so that I could pick up with “The Witch’s Want” again. This was only to show the back story of the male lead in that story – how his parents waged war and how it became Ur-Nammu’s history and the fabric of his life. Uh, the first time, anyway.

But here we are, 9 chapters in as I struggle to tie up some ends. Ah well, at least Ur-Nammu is born by the end of this one. ~sigh~

But I did figure out an ending for “The Witch’s Want” in all of this thrashing around…

Anyway, If you’re following this, please enjoy. If you’re new to this story.. Whoa, better start at CH01. This is confusing enough if you’ve gotten this far.

O_o

——————–

The priestess stood on the watchtower spire the next day. She surveyed the land around for a short time and then she looked at the way that the clouds appeared to her. They were starting to develop the darker undersides that reminded her of the clouds which bore the precipitation of the coming colder months. She reached into her robe and pulled out a crust of day-old bread, feeling the first waves of her morning sickness approaching her for the third time today.

She chewed on the crust and began to feel a little better almost as soon as she’d swallowed some and held a kind thought for her mother. It had taken her this long to remember to stop by the keep bakery to ask for some.

Looking down at the land again, she thought that she could see the first of the leaves changing a little. Her eye was drawn to a single figure who walked slowly across the windblown grass far below.

Nisi-ini-su sighed to herself. That had been a true shame.

The other true shame had been that she’d been so busy recently that she’d had little time to spend with even her closest friend.

She turned and walked toward the stairs.

———————–

Anat wandered the high ground which lay at the foundations of the keep in the large valley. The wind blew her long reddish-brown hair around her as she walked. The place had always been beautiful to her from the first time that she’d laid eyes on it as a girl, but when one’s breast holds a broken heart, things seldom look their best. It had been months and still she felt miserable.

Nisi-ini-su strode through the taller grass in the cold wind. She could see Anat there far ahead of her. The difference was a little remarkable to her. For more than the past year, she’d never seen Anat out of the armor which marked her as the captain of her personal guards. She wondered briefly when it was exactly when she’d last seen her dressed in anything else. She called to Anat as she drew near, and the woman turned around, bowing a little when her liege was close enough.

“Not today, Anat, please, ” Nisi-ini-su said with a smile. She maintained her stride and walked right up to the startled woman and threw her arms around her shoulders in a tight hug. She kissed Anat’s cheek and hugged her even tighter. “I come to beg forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness?” Anat asked curiously as she returned the hug genuinely, “What has happened?”

The Priestess drew her head back and they looked at each other. “I have had my hands full with so many things that I had no time to spare for the ones which should get it the most. I saw you here from the tower and felt terrible. My closest friend in the world walks alone here on such a day, and I have not done what I should as a friend months ago and made time to be together with you in so long. I am sorry.”

Anat smiled. “We have all been busy for so long, Nisi-ini-su. These are not times like we are used to from our younger days. There is nothing to forgive.”

The priestess took the fighter’s hand and they walked along the ridge together, two friends from childhood again. The wind there at the edge of the ridge blew far more fitfully than anywhere else as winds near to ridges on mountains always do. Their long cloaks showed the motions of it, though they were tied against the cold, but the long hair of both women, red-brown on one and black on the other showed the motion of the blustery weather plainly.

In the keep’s main entrance, a guard approached another, drawn by his intent stare across the windblown plain. “What?”

“There,” the newer guard remarked with a nod, “surely two of the most beautiful women that I have ever seen. I saw one as she came out and before I knew it, I had to step aside for the one with the black hair. Who are they?”

The other guard sighed as he smiled and he slapped the new man’s shoulder. “Those are two dreams who walk in this place of dreams, friend. And that is all that they will ever be to you and I. The black-haired one is the High Priestess herself and the other is the leader of her guard. Go and sit by the fire when you can call your eyes back into your head. The meal is ready and I will stand duty for you while you eat.” He nodded toward the women, “Like many dreams here, they are deadly.”

The priestess şişli escort looked to her friend. “If it is not too close to you, I still do not understand what happened with Dagon. I only knew that you were apart.”

Anat sighed, “What happened is easily able to be seen and foretold when I look back afterward. He is a builder, young and full of ideas. At the keep here, there are enough builders who have ideas of their own. So all that really kept Dagon here was me,” she said as she pulled her long hair away from her eyes.

“But I carry the duties of the captaincy of your guard, and as in all else, it seems, that duty is hard to name with certainty. I lead a group of fighters by my title, but we are also many other things both here and wherever we are sent as the needs be.” She smiled at her friend, happy for the company now, “I have always loved the duty and would not give it up until I cannot do it well any longer or I am dead, but that makes it harder for a man to keep his love for his woman alive when she is most often not here.

What happened is that Dagon left both me and the keep while we were off elsewhere. I know not if there was another woman.”

“Surely not,” her friend said, stating the obvious, “who would be that bold — or stupid?”

Anat tugged her friend’s hand a little and raised their clasped hands so that they could be seen by both of them. “Do not even think of it, old friend. I know what you would do now. You would offer me time away, and it is something that I do not want or need. My busyness has been the best thing for me these past months. I am over him. It is just that today, I feel the want that comes from loneliness a little more, that is all.”

Nisi-ini-su stopped and it caused Anat to turn. When she did, the priestess hugged her tightly and kissed her. Anat found herself responding after a moment and she felt a little better as their tongues danced slowly. Anat heard her old lover’s sigh as it began and she added hers to it.

All these years, she thought.

Nisi-ini-su broke the kiss and smiled. “As it has always been between us, Anat, I love you still, and so I want to make things better for you. You cannot blame me for this. I have had a thought of late anyway, and I want to speak with you about it before I act.”

She laughed to herself a little, “That marks quite a change in me, no?”

“Aye,” the female warrior grinned back, “it does.” She put her arm around her friend’s shoulders as they began to walk again, “Tell me then, so that I might have a chance to know what it is that I must fear next.”

“Soon,” her friend laughed, “By your dress here, I see that you are off today, and if I know you, there is a warm fire still burning in the hearth of your little cottage.”

———————

Anat’s jaw fell. “You — you are serious?”

Nisi-ini-su smiled back as they sat before the hearth together eating soup. “Yes, of course I am. Tell me that you have never had the thought of it, Anat. Go on and say it and I will laugh at you. Do you think that he is not man enough for it?”

Anat thought of it, “Of course he is, Nisi-ini-su. It is just that, … I have never, …”

“Yes you have,” her friend laughed, “I know you, Anat. Listen, we are first lovers between us. You and I have never stopped loving each other. It is only lately that there has been no time for it. Lugalbanda is the world to me and I know that the love between us is as strong as what lies between you and I. We both know how you feel about him. He knows, Anat. He feels the same about you as you feel about him. He also knows what is between us and has always been.”

She paused to let it sink in as she carefully sipped a spoonful of the hot soup, grateful for the heat of the bowl in her cold hands. “What happened to you would not ever happen again. You are with him a little more than I am when he is in the field, and I would not begrudge it. You and I are alone here without him now as sometimes happens as well, and he and I are often alone together on the road to somewhere that we must be. There would be time for it alone and all together. I know how he admires and respects you, and anyone with eyes can see that you shine when you stand near to him in battle. We both do, you and I. I have heard it said of us often.

So? What is there to argue about, then? Say the word to me and we three will be together. You and I will be his two wives and we will all be happier for it. Do not forget that I am with child. When it gets much later just before the birth, I will be glad of your help.”

“You would have my help anyway,” Anat said earnestly, “You know it.”

“I do,” the priestess smiled, “it was never in question in my mind. But I can see a time when the babe will need me. Can you see it then? I will want your help to keep him pleased when I will not have the desire as much. That is what my own mother told me might happen. And this way, you can also have babes with him, though I can warn you that so tuzla escort far, the way that I must throw away my dinner so lightly does little to forge my love as a mother.”

Anat thought about it. Between the two of them, she had always been the practical one. This idea surprised her and she knew that her friend must have thought this through long and hard to be this forthright and logical with her argument because of what had happened with Timna, though they both knew that she had a far greater appetite for this kind of sex than Timna ever could. She looked at Nisi-ini-su.

“He carries the lock,” the priestess said with a little leer, “just as I do. And you know how it helps with loving.”

“Stop it,” Anat laughed, “I know what it does with you. I try to think of how it would go with him. I have never loved with a man like him.”

“Well, “her old lover smiled warmly, “I have, and often. I have even survived his wonderful pounding, now that I am used to it and crave it so. But I also know how you like it soft and gentle most often, Anat, and I have taught him to be just so – just that way when I ask him for it.

Say the word and you have your old lover and a husband, once we have the ritual. Find a way to becoming a priestess as well as a fighter and we will try to find a way to share the lock with you. But in any event, you can begin with him as soon as I tell him your answer.”

Anat was shocked, “He knows of this, what you suggest to me?”

Her friend nodded, “Yes. We have spoken of it often before. Lugalbanda has always known what we do together, Anat. It has never been a secret from him. He understands how you and I have always needed each other in all things. He mentioned it to me, how – unless the other one is not there, we are always conferring. He has also noticed how unhappy you are. And you would not be this unhappy if my man and I had acted sooner and offered this to you months ago, but we were all so busy. We are both sorry for that.

Think hard for a moment here, Anat. Are we not happiest when we are all three together? It doesn’t matter what it is that we are doing, we are always drawn together. All that he and I have spoken of here – all that I am saying is that we just admit what is there. You and he are close enough for this anyway, are you not?”

Anat thought about it and nodded, “Yes, truly. If we met before any of this and the love between you, I think that he and I would, …”

“Well you might think it, Anat,” Nisi-ini-su said, “but I know it as a certainty.”

She laughed as a thought came to her, “It would still be the same! Look, if you were with him, you would be sitting with me at some point telling me the same words and trying to induce me into this, and you know it. We have both taken men. Even if what was between you and Dagon had been successful, there would still be you and I underneath it all – just as it is now.”

“We are still the two girls who have always been together. First from childhood, then as young hopeful and would-be adventurers here so long ago. We grew up enough, and one day we were lovers. I have always cherished that. We are older, and I am with child, but Anat, we are still the two girls who found ourselves naked on a hillside one day when we were old enough for it. We needed each other then, and we need each other still. I have my large and very strong man. He wants you as he wants me. Think with your head if you like, Anat. It will work.”

She laughed, and Anat wondered why. Her old friend smiled, “Think with your cunny for once, and it will tell you the same thing, only louder. Come on, old friend, I offer you the love that you have always had and on top of that, I offer you a husband such that you will never want another.”

Anat threw up her hands. “What must I say, then?”

“Only say ‘yes’, that you would try it.” Nisi-ini-su replied, “I will arrange it when he returns. If it is good between you, then it is done, and we would welcome you to your new home. I cannot wait to stand beside you for the ceremony when you wed him.”

She looked around at the cozy little cottage around them for a moment as she leaned against Anat.

“But though you would change your quarters, I want you to keep this place, “she smiled, “There are many good memories here and more to be made yet, I think. You are off today and no one can find me to bother me over a thousand little things which they decide for themselves whenever I am not here anyway.”

Anat nodded as she leaned against the priestess with a smile.

“And I have a bucket,” she said with a chuckle.

——————-

“What is it, Illya,” Yanna asked her husband as they lay in their bed while the wind moaned outside.

On their arrival at the keep, Smyrna and Daggat had resumed their duties in the guard of the Priestess. Illya and Yanna were given a set of rooms high up in one of the spires. Actually, it was two sets, the other set was given to Besha and Sorn. None of the outer rooms pendik escort had a flat wall — they were all curved.

There was a large common room between them with a fireplace large enough to heat that one room really well. The four of them spent days cleaning and sweeping. Each set of rooms had its own more or less central room with a fireplace. On the advice of the older couple, Yanna and Illya made that room their bedroom so that they’d be warmer over the coming winter. Most of the time, the doors to the sets of rooms were kept open. The bedroom fireplaces were only lit when the couples went to bed and the doors were closed.

“What is it that troubles you so?”

Illya sighed, turning to take Yanna in his arms. He didn’t want what was bothering him to affect her. “I am to learn more of this quiet killing,” he said, “Both the Priest and the Priestess are pleased at what I have already learned from Sorn. They say that I must continue.”

Yanna nodded, “As I was told to learn from Besha, anything that she might teach me. What is wrong with that?” Yanna asked him, “I am told often how quickly you learn and how — “she stopped and looked at him with concern. “There is something really troubling you,” she said.

He nodded, “I have learned many ways, Yanna, but though I have avoided it, I now come to the stealth of getting close in a bed.”

Yanna might have wanted to make a joke otherwise, but she understood her husband’s concern. She pushed him onto his back and looked down at him as she ran her pawed hand over his chest.

“Listen, Illya,” she said, “there are two things here, not only the one. I am the closest one to you in all the world, so I know. Firstly, you are troubled over lying with another woman while you are married to me. It causes me a little trouble as well, Illya, but I understand it and why you need to learn this.”

She smiled, “I think of it this way; my husband looks good enough to be wanted by other women, yet he only wants me. I feel pride for this, so you should try to do your best to learn, as you have done for everything else. We are both here to learn what is taught, and we do it for each other. I also smile a little because when it happens that you lie with someone, your count will go up, and I may benefit from the things that you might learn as well, no? That is how I look at it.”

“It is the other thing which bothers you much more,” she said, “and I know this as well. You will have to learn about lying with another man and I know how you feel about that too. I will say this to you,” she said as she leaned down to rub her face under his jaw, “I have learned about you in the time that we have loved. I know what you like in the dark and only between us, husband. If I had fingers instead of these claws, you know what I would do. All that I can tell you is to do your best. I don’t know why, Illya, but the thought stirs me a little to think of it, and if nothing else,” she smiled as she began to stroke him, “your count goes up regardless in the eyes of the cat-girl who needs you so that she may breathe.”

——————-

The old fireplace crackled and threw out a spark onto the stone floor now and then. Besha stood at a window and looked out through a gap as she held one of the shutters open a little to see. The wind outside blew strongly and it carried cold rain with it, but inside, it was very warm and dry. She shivered a little as a bit of the rain blew in and landed against her stomach and one of her breasts.

Both of their men each spent about an hour a day bringing and managing the wood to keep the fireplace hot and once the thing was really going, it was hot in the main room, so during the day, neither of the women wore very much and Yanna preferred being closer to the floor on four legs, since the air was cooler there and she was trapped inside her short fur.

Besha closed the shutter and walked to look at the pot heating near the fire which held the hot broth that she wanted. Satisfied, she threw another split log on the fire and walked back to sit down.

“So Illya is troubled and you spoke of it together and then you did your best to make him feel a little better,” Besha asked her friend as they watched the flames roaring in the huge fireplace of the common room. “What is your trouble then?”

Yanna didn’t take her eyes from the flames. Besha was sitting on a chair while she was lying on a thick rug on the floor. “I do not know, really,” she said, “other than it makes Illya nervous and unhappy to think about.” She shifted her focus deeper into the fire and tried to imagine the scene. “It stirs me somehow,” she said.

Besha sat down beside her. “How?”

“I don’t know,” Yanna replied a little evasively, “I only know that it does.”

“Well that I can see for myself,” the older woman smiled as she got down to lie at right angles to Yanna’s face. Besha lay with her chin on her forearms, smiling.

The cat-girl’s amber eyes shifted as she looked over at her. “You can?”

Besha laughed softly as she reached to move one of Yanna’s braids out of the way and behind her ear.

“Yanna,” she said with a lot of her good humor in her voice, “We have been here for over an hour now, you and me, talking as we often do about anything. But all that you talk about today is this one thing, and you began it as you sat in the chair next to mine.”

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