A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement

Afdaninna dismounted and handed the reins to her squire.  Fortunately they had camped nearby this morning so she had not suffered a full day in the saddle before meeting with the High Commissioner.   She wore a modified version of traditional full battle dress.  Though her chainmail was light and afforded her a high degree of movement, it still felt suffocating.  The mail was a holdover from the time of her parents and used mainly for ceremony now.   It was still expected, even in times of peace, that someone of her station present to her equals as a Queen of the old days would.   She only wore a filmy silk tunic underneath to protect her delicate skin instead of heavy wool.  Wool would have been a more practical choice but the appearance of femininity was a priority for this meeting. 

As she walked through the castle courtyard she felt all eyes follow her.  Even though it caught and ripped in the mail, she wore her long blue hair loose today.  She knew she presented a rare sight to the people of the Plains as it was not often one of her kind came calling.  The Plains people were dull, sleek and and grey and her ivory skin and bright blue hair must appear very strange to all that watched her go by.

There was a time when the King’s men would have rode out to meet her and brought her through the gates feted with much ceremony.  The High Commissioner was in no way her equal.  He was, at best, a sycophant to the King of the Plains.  Unfortunately, the King had become ruler in name only, allowing his military advisors to assume most of his duties.  Her spies had informed her that the High Commissioner was acquiring power at an alarming rate as his fellow council members met with a series of “accidents”.  Now he was after land.  Her land.

It had started with a few peasant settlers, small farms slowly creeping up the valley.  Alfdaninna had offered them her protection but they insisted on humbly remaining neutral.  As their numbers grew they became a strain on the resources.  They diverted water from the river and cut the forest which caused havoc downstream in her lands.  Deciding to take action, she petitioned the largest landowners only to find they had been granted use of the land from the High Commissioner.   Within days of her first visit,  a small garrison was built and stocked with armed soldiers.

 There was no formal border, merely political understandings.  It has always been understood that the valley belonged to her people.  No monetary tribute had ever been paid as she was a Queen in her own right.   Three hundred years of peaceful coexistence had made more of her people farmers, not warriors.  As the Plains pushed, the more obvious it became she had inferior resources to push back against such uneven odds.

How far things had come in just one generation.  The relationship her parents had with the King had crumbled.  The council  had no interest in honouring treaties from generations past.  And now she had been summoned, like a vassal to report to the High Commissioner. 

            Alfdaninna was brought to the High Commissioner’s formal chambers.  She had been in the castle before but never in this area.  Her past dealings had been with the King in the Great Hall.  This area was too secluded for her liking.  She almost lost her way as the guards led her through twisting and turning corridors.  She tried in vain to get her bearings but could only deduce that she was heading further and further away from the public areas of the castle.  A chill crept down her back.  Entering an anteroom she was met by a huge, unflinching green orc.  He was massive.  The sight of him startled her.  

To her surprise, the orc grumbled and waved the guards away.  Then he grabbed her wrist and led her into a large reception room.  The room was impressive and richly appointed, though furnished more like private rooms, adding to her discomfort.  Sitting at a large table was, she assumed, the High Commissioner.

            He was an attractive man.  That eased her a bit.  She had pictured far far worse.  Though his skin was dull as granite his eyes looked as though they had once held some humanity.  His forehead was streaked in the dark lines of a  man who indulges in too much vice.  His lips were thin and cruel but at least physically, he was fit and in top form.  He had not run to fat as so many men of power inevitably do. 

She wanted to distance herself as much as possible for what was to come.  Even though the orc released her wrist and sat down at the table pouring himself a large draught of wine, she remained standing as tall and as proud as a Queen should.  She straightened herself and opened her mouth to deliver her prepared speech.  But the High Commissioner spoke first.

            “I have here, a 12 month lease to be signed by you,” no ceremony, no pleasantries, he got right to the point.  Alfdaninna did not quite know what to say so she kept quiet and let him speak.  “It grants you use of the valley for your people in exchange for tribute of 30% of your annual harvest payable to the King of the Plains and to be collected by the High Commissioner of the Exchequer.”

            30% was outrageous, they barely scraped by their existence as it was, with her water being poached, even less so.  People would go hungry.  This was far far worse than she imagined.

            “High Commissioner, I realize that land is finite, but isn’t there enough fertile land on the plains that my rocky, overgrown valley would be of little interest to the crown?” she stared at the orc.  For some reason, watching him while she spoke was easier than looking the High Commissioner directly in the eye. 

            “Your majesty,” the High Commissioner used formal address but his tone was laced with condescension, “In the past, your people have been graced with the King’s noble charity, unfortunately the King’s enemies have pressed us backs to the wall.  We simply can’t afford to continue to protect you gratis”

            “We are capable of protecting ourselves if need be.  In fact I am willing to pledge a militia of our hard working young men …....”

The orc snorted a laugh.  He abruptly got up, drained his cup and slammed it on the table before stomping off out of the room leaving Alfdaninna alone with the High Commissioner.  How rude!  Savage.

“My lady, your free ride is over.”  The High Commissioner pushed the parchment towards her, “It is time to pay to your dues”.

Alfdaninna exhaled.  So it was done.  She had one last thing to offer before her lands would be forever enslaved.  Now she looked at the High Commissioner and licked her lips.  “Perhaps we could come to another, mutually beneficial arrangement.”

            Would he take the bait?  She tossed her long aquamarine hair gracefully so the waves tumbled down over the shiny silver mail covering breasts.  She was a Queen.  She was sought after by men throughout the lands for her beauty and strength and she was about to offer herself to the most self-serving reputedly depraved man in the realm to protect her people.

            He smiled.  He was considering it.

            A door slammed and the orc returned.  Damn it.  The moment was lost.  The High Commissioner scowled, “Karguk in em darp em gup lack tugh raf!” 

            The orc grunted out a chuckle.

            “Karguk finds you very amusing lady,” the High Commissioner informed her.

“By Karguk, I assume you mean this orc?” she was off balance now.

            “He’s not an orc, he’s a half orc.  Pureblood orcs do not have the capacity for complex grammatical structure, I would not be able to understand him if was all orc”

            “Yes well I do not speak orc or half orc so ….”

            Karguk snickered.  He obviously understood her perfectly fine but chose to speak in a fashion she could not understand to ridicule her.

            “Karguk says you are very spirited for such a tiny creature.”  Alfdaninna was indeed small to a Plainsman.  Where their people were lean and tall she was small and round.  In comparison to the massive orc she seemed like a child.  He continued, “Have you ever seen an orc’s member?  It is rumoured even the lowly half orc sports a sexual organ of 14 imperial increments or more!  I would imagine crossbreeding would be most uncomfortable for the female in question.”   

“Perhaps to the women of the Plains, orc cock seems over large but where I come from our men are full grown, tis a shame your ladies have to settle for less,” she spoke without thinking and immediately regretted it.  Fool.  Well damn it anyway. 

“Well then my Lady!” his eyes lit up, “Do you fancy some orc cock? I’m sure that would be good sport indeed!”  He stood up excitedly, his chair scraping loudly on the floor.  He looked suddenly very pleased with himself and slammed his fist down on the table in exclamation. “How is this for a mutually beneficial arrangement …..today you are in luck!  We just happen to have some fine, half orc cock for your pleasure.  You will let this green beast give it to you.  Yes I would like to see that.  I bet Karguk’s massive cock will be more than enough to satisfy you.  Yes i need to see that right now.”  His eyes narrowed and his gaze roamed up and down her body.  His breathing was a little heavier, he was absolutely serious.  He expected her to mate with his orc while he watched.  “And just to make things fair …... when he is done I will send you back to your people with a year’s grace from your 30% obligations to the crown.   Of course,  no man will ever have you again.  But I am sure you are willing to make that sacrifice for your subjects, your Highness”

Alfdaninna hid her shock at his proposition.  This was a most unexpected turn of events.  She came here with the intention of offering herself to the High Commissioner..... she was desperate and willing to do anything to help her people, but this, this was …. but gods what else could she do?.

There was an uncomfortable silence.  Alfdaninna felt heat race through her body.  Her blood boiled with rage.  She could still win this.  She would have to.

“I accept,”  she said simply and firmly, and turned to Karguk, and affirmed again, “I accept”. 

Karguk looked rather astonished but not as much so as the High Commissioner.  He tried to hide his shock but she could see the lust in hold firm in his eyes as he spoke.  “But does Karguk accept you I wonder?” 

Karguk was silent but his hand strayed to rub between his legs.   "Ha!  Still half man indeed.  Come here little one come kneel before us and show Karguk how valley women appreciate a full grown cock", throwing her words back in her face.

More than anything Alfdaninna was proud.  No matter what, she would not be humiliated by this fool.  Yes the orc was half man and as a man she would let him have her.   She could feel the High Commissioner watching her and she steeled herself and walked towards the orc.  His eyes met with hers and for a moment she saw there a surprising kindness. 

He is half man. He is half man,  she said over and over to herself. 

Alfdaninna knelt down in front of Karguk .   Slowly with trembling fingers she started unlacing his codpiece.   She drew a deep breath at the first sight of the orc’s green cock.  It was not so bad!  she convinced herself.  She grasped the shaft and guided it to her lips.  Wrapping her lips around the tip, she sucked tentatively at first until she felt it pulse and grow in her mouth.  Karguk groaned.  She kept tending it, wetting it, feeling him grow bigger and bigger.  She had to strain her neck and lean back to prevent it from ramming down her throat.  He was huge and still not even fully erect.  Now it was stretching her lips and she was panicked as she felt it go too far.  Soon she would not be able to breathe.  She gasped, drooling saliva down her chin as Karguk pulled her back by the hair saving her from gagging.  She was amazed at his control and care.  

The High Commissioner was watching, she could feel it.  She looked up at Karguk towering over her and swirled her tongue once again over his now rock hard cock.  She opened her mouth as wide as she could and enveloped the tip of him in her wetness.  He was panting with pleasure.  She sucked and he groaned.  Relaxing her jaw, she let him thrust back and forth in her mouth, fucking her face.  She briefly thought she might be able to make him spill himself in her mouth and then perhaps it would be over but he never lost control.  He pulled out again and she gasped, panting for breath then thrust back in giving her his cock. 

Alfdaninna looked up to see Karguk watching her and she pleaded with her eyes.  He abruptly stopped and reached down, his big hands grabbing her under the arms and pulling her up.  He spun her away from him and pushed her facedown, bent over the oak table.  His feet coaxed her legs apart and he lifted her skirt, gathering the heavy chain up to her waist.

“No no.....take her like a dog Karguk!”  The High Commissioner broke the silence.  “Get up on the table and make her take it on all fours.” 

What a pig.  Alfdaninna climbed up on the table and obeyed shooting the High Commisioner a look of regal contempt.  She wasn’t about to be some kind of freak show.  She was a Queen and she knew she looked like one.  There was no dog here, she positioned herself on all fours with pure feral feline grace, tossing her silky hair and glancing back at Karguk with invitation.

The big orc kneeled behind her and she felt his gnarled fingers, wet with spit, slip over her slit coaxing her pussy lips open.  He found her clit and massaged it sending little shivers through her body.  She was stunned that he was trying salve her and arouse her.  Her body was responding to his touch.  Her arousal was building.  When she felt the wet head of his fat cock rub against her clit she was even more surprised to find herself arching her back to guide him down to her tight little hole, wanting to take him in.

The first push was too much.  Karguk was so huge she cried out.  But he stilled, giving her time to accommodate him.  He slowly advanced giving her just a little bit more with each thrust.  When she was taxed overmuch with his size he paused rubbing her clit, making her moan in pleasure and giving her incentive to take still more.  She was amazed she could take him at all but slowly he stretched her open and her pussy tingled and throbbed with a pleasure she had never felt before.  She had never had anything so big and by the gods it felt so good.  She had no idea how much more there was but she did not care.  He started moving in and out of her now and each thrust felt simply amazing. 

            She forgot herself completely.  All she knew was she was building up faster and faster and release was so close.  When her orgasm hit her she whimpered and purred like a satisfied tigress.  Karguk kept on fucking her relentlessly and now she was wet and slippery and he could pound her with more intensity.  She felt the waves of pleasure crash over her again and she still wanted more. 

            In her pleasure, she almost forgot her audience.  Glancing over her shoulder she saw the High Commissioner watching while he rapidly stroked himself shamelessly.  He caught her gaze and it was enough to fuel his desire still further and he came around to face her giving her a show of his hand pumping furiously.  

He climbed up on the table and presented his cock in her face.  Grabbing her chin he barked, “Suck it!”

Karguk stilled.  Slowly Afdaninna opened her mouth and took in the High Commissioner.  She pushed her hips back against Karguk to indicate that he should continue but his enthusiasm was waning.  She could feel his cock start to soften. 

No! This couldn't happen now!  She was so close.  She feverishly serviced the high commissioner with her tongue, her lips ….. sucking him and then taking him deep down her throat.  He was moaning and panting and mumbling, “Yes Yes,” over and over while she serviced him. 

Karguk went limp and slipped out of her.

The time was right.  Carefully, Alfdaninna reached into her bodice and pulled out a tiny sheathed stiletto.  She swiftly stabbed it into the High Commissioner’s thigh.  She could feel hot blood spurt out and run down her hand as he screamed “BITCH” at the top of his lungs and roughly pulled her hair jerking her neck painfully back.   He backhanded her jaw so hard she saw black but she shoved him with all her strength sending him tumbling backwards off the table.  Her hair still caught in his hand she went over with him, cracking her head hard against the stone floor.

            The twitching bloated form of the High Commissioner convulsed and gasped for breath, succumbing to the torture of the poison.  Mistrova spider venom was a very painful way to die.  Alfdaninna’s head hurt and she was very dizzy.   She wanted to get up but she couldn’t lift her head off the floor.  She wanted to sleep but first she wanted to watch him die.  As he took his last breath she sighed, “I win” and blacked out.    

           

            There was pain.  It pierced behind her eyes.  One side of her body was pleasantly warm but the other was icy cold.  Her muscles ached.  She tentatively opened her eyes a crack to see bright orange flames of a fire. 

Alfdaninna was outside.  It was dark but for the fire.  The fire-facing side of her body was wonderfully warm but her back was bitterly cold to the night.  Her mail was gone and she lay naked, wrapped in layers of soft fur blankets.  She took a deep breath.  It smelled like forest.

A crackle of dry leaves alerted her to approaching footsteps and she froze instinctively.  Where was her knife?  Where was her sword?  A huge shadow entered the clearing.  Alfdaninna Sprang to her feet and braced to steel against the intruder.

Karguk.

He tossed a piece of wood into the fire and the glow briefly dimmed.  He walked towards her, “The time for a militia has passed.  You need a professionally trained fighting force,” and then, very slowly, lowered himself down on one knee and looked up at her intently, “My Queen.”

Mistress of the North

Twelve days had passed since he lost the guide. Perhaps lost was too optimistic. Twelve days ago the guide had disappeared silently during the night, with half the furs and food. Twelve days since he had last seen the fast clear waters of the emerald coloured creek.

Twelve days had past since they had spotted a thinning of the trees ahead, the sound of rushing water, a welcome sight in the relentless cold of the forest canopy. A clearing meant more sunshine, if even for a moment, to warm their icy skin and a creek was drink to quench their thirst. He could hear the swift running water before he laid eyes on it. Jogging ahead, he knelt at it's banks to drink the cool water cupped in his hands. The sun did indeed feel warm on his back for the first time in days. He turned his face to it to soak it in.

Standing, he gestured to his companion to drink. The guide did not drink, he just stood.

“How to cross?” the traveller enquired in his limited language.

“No cross. Go back”, replied the guide.

“Come, friend,” he smiled with excitement, “We go across!” He walked his fingers across his palm.

The guide picked up the reigns to the sledge and turned south.

The explorer snatched the reigns and turned to the creek. Gingerly, he alighted atop a slippery rock and then hopped to another and another, carefully manoeuvring the pack of furs to keep it dry. He made it to the far shore with a thud into the soft peat. Turning to smile to his companion he waved him across, then set to work pulling his bundle up the creek bank. The sledge followed him then stopped him with a jarring yank on the rope. It was caught on a branch. He reached under to disengage it, feeling the smooth branch under his fingers, too smooth and cool, his touch told him. As he pulled at the branch he suddenly jerked away dropping a crumbling arrangement of whitened bones. His heart raced, then calmed. Just a dead animal. He squatted down to investigate. No, a human hand, still held precariously together in places with sinew. Poor soul, to die alone in the cold bleak wilderness, watched over by only Hel and the silent forest.

The guide padded over to him, “Go back, not safe”, he pointed to the bones, and said something in his native language. The traveller didn't understand. “Red, bad”, he tried in frustration, to express himself in the Norseman's tongue, “Blood, bad lady magic!”

Bad lady magic? He laughed and patted the guide on the shoulder, “It's ok, my friend. Let us go,” and turning his back to the sun, he trekked into the trees.

The explorer had wanted to continue north for two more days. He had plenty of time to get back to his ship. That was twelve days ago.

He was a Norseman and considered himself resourceful. In his 26 years he had travelled, traded and raided across the northern islands from Hibernia to the Baltic. Never straying too far from the coast, he now knew why. The inland cold was dry, drier than anything he had ever felt. The guide had told him the snows would come late this year. But the cold did not wait. There were no leaves left on the trees. The edges of the long lost emerald creek had be frozen solid, at least he expected it to be frozen if he ever found it again.

Today was partly sunny and he knew for certain that he was heading south. Three bleak cloudy days in a row had left him disoriented in this foreign land. As soon as he had discovered the guide had fled, the Norseman packed up camp and followed their tracks toward the coast. But he still had not crossed the emerald creek again. He saw his own footprints and those of the guide impressed in the soft earth, now frozen in place until spring. It was impossible he was lost. Impossible but hopeless. For twelve days he had backtracked on his own prints and nothing looked familiar.

Drowsy from cold, he peered ahead to a break in the undergrowth. Perhaps a trail? He released the sledge and climbed up the slight embankment. There was a distinct worn path winding through the trees to the west. He checked on his pack, down below and walked backwards always keeping it in sight, for about 25 paces. The path wound down a ravine. To a creek? The emerald creek? He was close!

Something crunched under his boot. With hesitation, he looked down, only to find more bones.

Furiously grinding them underfoot, he backtracked to his pile of gear and sat. He took a swig of water and looked down. All the footprints were gone, his, the guide's, the footprints going north and the footprints going south. Gone. He put his head in his hands in resignation, staring at the frost covered earth, willing it to give him a sign. Listening for something, someone, anything but just silence. He stroked his golden beard, now caked with heavy frost. Winter had finally caught up with him.

Time to press on. He followed the new path until the sun was at it's highest. Down the ravine, he was descending but veering north again. He would follow this to the bottom and find the water. Then he would make permanent winter camp. He would not be meeting his ship. He would not find the coast before the snows came.

Ahead a distinctive pile of bones. This time there was no surprise. Another human skeleton crumpled on the side of the trail. There was no time for mourning. The path turned sharply and he knew he was finally at the bottom of the ravine. And there was the creek, almost completely frozen but never a more welcome sight to his weary eyes. He looked up to find the sun disappeared, snow had started to fall. He tried to get his bearings, scanning the creek north and south.

Something caught his eye. A flash of red. So out of place here. It seemed to hover over the creek.

He followed the shore toward it until a pile of stone came into focus. It was a bridge. A stone bridge! Unmistakably made by men. He broke into a run, stumbling, eyes blurring in the cold. He saw red, gold, white, snow falling, his breath swirling a frozen mist before his eyes. He stopped and focused his gaze in wonder.

The bridge spanned the creek, interlocking stone, covered in a layer of fresh white powder snow. In the middle of the bridge was a large stone block. Radiating from the block in every direction were large chains tethered to the base structure. The chains were golden under the dust of powdery snow, swirling up from the floor of the bridge into a tangled mass atop the stone block.

As he crept closer, in awe, he saw the chains did not lay in a heap upon the block, but rather entwined about a body. A human curled on her side, a woman, yes a woman he could see her bare breasts, she was fair as the snow dust and completely naked except for the gold chains.

He cursed, who would kill a woman so? Leaving her out to freeze, bound in chains? He approached. The gold chain links were as large as a child's hand. They bound her wrists, ankles, waist, breasts and neck. Where the chains met her skin, red angry chafe burns and cuts bled dark against her white skin. The only shroud to cover her in death was the cloak of silken hair, dark red tresses the colour of blood draped in a veil cascading over her curves.

He stared at the sight of her frozen in time. Completely paralysed, his eyes watered with grief. She was magnificent and proud even in her bondage, mesmerizingly beautiful. Her skin was so vibrantly and unnaturally white. She must have been frozen instantly upon death.

He slowly backed to the shore, every step adding distance and clarity. He would have to clean her and if he could, release her body and provide proper death rites. He felt uneasy though, as if he was disturbing something. He thought of the skeletons in the woods. He shivered at the words of the guide, Bad lady magic. He looked around. The forest was silent and empty. He could see nothing but the steep walls of the valley rising on both sides above the creek. This spot was isolated, but how did he come upon this scene? Was he safe? Who did this? Was there dark magic at work?

He set about to building a fire and lean-to shelter, for the snow was getting heavier and he had only a short time before dark. As he performed the routine camp tasks it was almost as if he could go about the business of surviving and pretend he had not seen anything. Every so often though, he would glance to the bridge and the feelings of horror and shock would flood back again. Eventually he sat by the fire alone in his thoughts and his thoughts turned to her.

He approached her again. The chain links were fused. There were no locks, no shackles just chain interlinked in such a way it could only have been hot forged in place. He scratched his nail along a link, the metal was soft. He tried to lift a chain that tethered her ankle to the ground but it was too heavy. Was this solid gold? If it was, it was more gold that he would ever see in his lifetime. The only way he could see to free her was to hack through the chains with his axe.

He found himself staring at her wounds again. She must have felt much pain. He couldn't stand to look at them any longer. He would begin by cleaning her. Pouring water onto a cloth he padded up to her. Hesitantly, he reached for her neck wounds to wipe her clean but the cloth fell away and his bare hand touched her instead, sparks running through him as the sensation of her skin overtook. Even in death her skin was silken smooth. His gaze lowered to her breast and his fingers trailed automatically to caress it's full roundness.

Water

He must get water, he thought, yes water. He bent down to pick up the cloth, as he rose from the ground he found himself staring into her wide open dark blue eyes.

She blinked.

Water

He fell backwards with fright.

Water

Her voice was a silken caress. She was alive.

He stumbled to find the water flask. His eyes never leaving her. Blood began to trickle from under her chains. Panicked he pressed the cloth to her bleeding wound until he saw another rivulet of blood stream over her breast.

Water

Her voice was in his mind yet her lips did not move. He pressed the flask to her mouth but the water trickled down to the stone slab. He didn't know what to do. She stirred in her chains opening new wounds, more blood. He held the flask to his mouth and took a huge gulp of the frozen liquid. He let it warm in his mouth as he lowered his lips to hers. His mouth pressed against her cold flesh as he parted her lips with his hot tongue and gave her water. She let out a small moan as she drank from him. Three more times she drank before he tore himself away.

Running to his camp he fetched his axe and raced back to her. He hacked at her chains frantically until in his fatigue, he realized it was pointless.

You cannot break them

He took off his fur jacket. He tried to wrap her in the skin but she thrashed and fought. He climbed over her and pressed his body against her. He wanted to warm her, to heal her. “Woman!” he shouted. She stilled. He stared down at her. Her eyes met his.

Leave me

“No!” he replied in anger, “Let me free you.”

Leave

He pulled his tunic over his head, then pressed his warm skin against hers, wrapping her in his arms. She started to twist and turn under him again.

Leave

He glanced at his forearm and saw her blood smeared there. He brought the arm up to his mouth and licked. His cock stirred under his clothes. He lowered his mouth to her chest and licked some more, feeling his cock swell as he lapped up the metallic red liquid that trickled over her breasts.

I will take your magic

Her voice was all around him, the voice in his head. What was he doing? He was lust crazed with thirst for the taste of her. He tried to pull off her but her long red hair lashed out, at first its silken softness caressing him, then turning to sharp knives slicing at his back.

Give me your magic

He growled in pain. Where her hair had cut him, a burning sensation spread across his back then smoldered into waves of pleasure coursing through his body. His cock pressed painfully confined as he struggled to pull free of her trap. Rising to his knees above her, his fingers tugged and pulled at his laces, desperate to free himself from his clothes.

You are mine now
Give me your magic

At that command he was unmanned. Spasms shook him as the hot liquid spurted from his cock. He let out a fierce cry of relief and fell back panting. His seed sparkled on her bare skin and he watched in awe as her bleeding wounds closed where it touched.

Magic.

Leaning over her, he smeared the essence of his body on his hands then slowly spread it over her breasts. She writhed beneath him as the chafe marks and scrapes healed before his eyes..

“Who are you?” he begged, “What matter of woman or creature are you? Are you a witch?”

I am your mistress

Now give me your magic

Her blue eyes watched. He could not look away. She tried to lift her body but the chains held her. There was still blood on her. She was still wounded. He felt his cock stiffen again at the sight. He had gone mad. Completely mad. His body vibrated and burned. He couldn't stop himself he had to taste her again. He ran his tongue over her thigh. The tiny drop of blood was enough to whip him to full arousal.

He followed the chains from her waist to between her legs. They were tight fastened, strung between her pussy lips leaving only a finger's width of access. Hungry he pulled her legs apart and slid his tongue between the chains. She tasted sweeter than he could ever imagine. She was a witch alright. And he didn't care. He devoured her, his tongue probing through the prison to taste inside her. She was responding to him now as a woman. She moaned and lifted her hips to his mouth. He could feel her thighs tremble. The chains between her lips seemed more slack but perhaps it was her wetness. He roughly pulled, trying to move them further apart. All he could think of was having his cock inside her but it was no use, he would never get past her bonds.

He took her swollen pink flesh into his mouth and sucked letting his teeth graze her. His fingers dug deep into the flesh of her bottom as he drew her around him, never close enough, never deep enough. He felt her thighs clench around him. Now he was completely smothered by her wetness as she released her pleasure on his face and he drank from her. His body was singing with tension now. He pounded his fist against the stone in frustration. Then her legs opened for him and he watched the two chains slowly slip outward pulling her juicy lips wide apart in invitation.

He scrambled up and swiftly mounted her, driving his cock deep inside. She was hot, soft, slippery, silk encasing his shaft. “Witch!!” He cursed as he thrust hard. He looked down at her gold imprisoned body as it absorbed the shock of his pounding but he was completely driven now, relentlessly fucking her, wanting to go ever deeper and faster. He could feel her writhing and thrashing beneath him. Her pussy squeezed and tightened around his cock. He could smell her blood. He lowered his head and licked a drop of it from her neck, the taste of her pushed him over the edge. He exploded inside her succumbing to the spasms of pleasure taking control of his body.

His whole body spent, he lay motionless across her.

I am the Mistress of the North

She stirred under him. He felt her flex and tighten her arms.

I am the Lady of Winter

Her whole body coiled like spring. He tensed. He was suddenly aware of great strength radiating from her muscles. He looked to her wrists, noticing her wounds had completely healed. He felt great energy coming from her, roaring in his ears. The feeling in the pit of his stomach was something any sane man would remember. Fear. It was a warning to retreat.

Her wrists tugged and the chains broke. He didn't have time to react before he felt himself being flung through the air with great force and slamming down, head first, on the hard, icy rock. His bones crumpled like the lonely skeletons on the path.

Sharp stabbing pain as he cautiously opened his eyes. Through the blurry veil of delirium he saw her rise off the stone slab. Every twist of her perfect body snapping links of chain as she pulled herself up to her knees. Screeching, she ripped off all of her restraints and hurled them with blazing fury.

He was fading. The pain of his smashed head was overcoming him. His eyes met hers. As he slipped into the darkness he watched giant white wings unfurl from her back and stroke the icy air, lifting her up to the sky.

You are mine now

------------------------------------------------

Inara scanned the beach hopefully, relaxing as her eyes rested upon him. He walked through the sand, purposefully striding toward her. A cold gust of wind blasted her sideways. She watched him stop and survey the fjord before proceeding to the house.

“Husband!” She spoke cheerfully in greeting. He walked past her, eyes fixed straight ahead. She was used to it though.

When her husband had returned from the sea months ago, his father had called on her and released her from her bond as wife. He had come home damaged, he said. Not right in the head. There was a massive scar on his skull from a near death blow but something too had happened to his essence and spark. He was like a candle snuffed. But she stayed for him.

He had been lost to his group overnight, They had found him three hours from the camp the next day, naked, crumpled in the snow, clutching his pack. He had not spoken on the voyage home and he rarely spoke now at all. Occasionally, he would look to the forest and proclaim, “Winter is coming.”

She followed him inside their home. He began to gather food and clothes from about the hut. He pulled out his old pack and stuffed the items inside. His Axe was last to go in. He flung it over his shoulder and looked directly at her for the first time today. “Winter is here,” he said matter of factly and spun on his heal and walked out the door.

Gathering her skirts, she chased after him running alongside his lengthy stride.

“Husband?” she pleaded, “Husband, where are you going?"

His eyes were blank as he whispered, “My Lady of Winter, the Mistress of the North,” and left her standing at the edge of the fjord.

Tighter

I am always a little businesslike as I walk down the hall. At least I try to appear so, though I have no respectable excuse to be here. Inside I'm a always knot of excitement. He opens the door for me and I walk into the room. I hear the door click as he locks it securely behind us, then I exhale quietly. I drop my purse. I smile. Alone again. He walks purposefully towards me and pulls me into his embrace. I look up at him for a moment before he presses his lips to mine.

Our kiss is a little frantic at first. Tasting what we have missed. Gradually, we ease into our own slow, delicious, rhythm. All the stiffness and business in my posture melts as we kiss.

His hands span my waist. He squeezes me. He's looking for it.

"What? No corset?" he says in dramatic disappointment, "I thought you would wear it for me."

I pull back and look up into his eyes with a tone of mischief, "I brought it with me," I pause to lick my lips, "But if I had walked in here wearing it, that would mean I'm in charge."

He laughs, "Well we can't have that now, can we?" and gives my bum a playful slap.

I wiggle out of his hold and walk over to where I have left my purse.

Standing across the room, my back is angled to him, but not so much that he can't see as I slowly unbutton my blouse and shrug it off my shoulders. Then i unclasp my bra and slip it off, and next, I step out of my skirt. I am standing in my panties, stockings and heels as I make the most show of suggestively leaning over the bag to pull out the bundle of stiffened exquisite satin. I slowly return to where he is sitting on the bed and stand between his legs.

"Will you?" I ask softly, presenting him with the corset. "Please lace me?" As soon as the words are out of my mouth I feel a wash of arousal course through my body. I quickly look down in submission. I inhale a ragged deep breath as if already constrained.

"Good girl", he murmurs, his hand lifting my chin so I can look into his eyes again. He smiles, his hand slides behind my neck and he roughly pulls me down for a kiss. When his lips touch mine, his kiss is surprisingly soft. It soothes me and teases me at the same time. Relaxing yet exciting. His lips are warm and smooth. I love the feel of his beard on my skin. His teeth bite down on the inside of my lower lip and I shiver as the delicious nip of pain travels through my body. His hands caress my shoulders, travelling down my sides, spanning my waist as if to measure it. Then up, cupping and squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples, but not quite hard enough to make me cum. I try not to tremble but the building excitement is intoxicating.

"Ok then," he says, releasing me matter of factly, "Lets fasten you up nice and tight for me."

He wraps the corset around my body. His hands roughly turn me to present the tiny hooks to his view. I patiently stand dead still so he can fasten the dozen or more minute clasps with his large hands. It seems to take forever, but at least he's laughing a little at the frustration of it.

"There we go" he declares with satisfaction. Finally done. I adjust my breasts into position as I turn and offer him my back. I feel the first tugs of the laces as he works them. Pulling at the middle, then his fingers yanking the crisscross weave at the top and bottom of the track of laces only to pull hard on the middle again. I inhale, I have no choice, the garment is tight, so very tight. Squeezing me into place.

"Let's see you," he demands. I twirl around, my hands on my hips, a sexy smile for him. "Perfect," he says as he runs his hands over my confined curves, "Beautiful". Hooking his thumbs at the edge of my panties he slips them off over my hips, "We don't need these". Then he grasps the garter fastenings and one by one clips them to my stockings, pausing to kiss the tops of my bare thighs, turning me as he goes.

The deliberate slow ritual of it all, combined with my confinement excites my breath into little shallow pants. I can see the tops of my breasts rapidly rising and falling, straining against the fabric already. I am facing away from him now. He sits on the bed. I am still standing and I feel somewhat like a doll for him to play with. "Spread your legs", he commands. I obey, of course.

His large hands swirl circles over the curves of my ass, squeezing me, pinching me. His lips kiss along next to the garter strap then he tugs it away, releasing it with a snap, stinging my skin as he kisses the other soft cheek. The scratch of stubble on my skin is driving me crazy. A hand reaches between my legs, quickly finding my clit. His fingers press down and start to work me hard and fast while kisses turn to bites and his caresses turn to erratic sharp slaps. I'm panting hard, little sounds escape me as he drives me harder and faster with his fingers.

He forcefully pushes me over as far as my restraints will allow. One hand holds the laces of my corset, and pulling, he cinches me in further. His palm flies up and slaps my pussy, stinging my swollen eager clit. I tremble as a wet finger pushes into me, and then another, spreading me apart. He starts to curl his fingers, stroking quickly inside me, he knows just the spot to tease. I'm gasping for breath as he reins me with my own prison of laces. My heart is pounding. The pleasure is intense, but so hard for me to isolate in my breathless state. I want to let go but i need more air.

I close my eyes and focus only on the oxygen in and out of my lungs. He continues to stroke me deep inside. His thumb brushes my clit and i jump. So he presses it down firmly and lets go of my laces. I fill my lungs with a rush of air and I cum hard squeezing and soaking his hand as i crumple back against him.

"Good girl", he says, gathering me in his arms, stroking my hair.

Snowflakes

Snowflakes


Running along the keep outer wall, Lisette bursts through the doorway with a surge of magic. Finding a scallop on the stone parapet to tuck in behind, she calls for the pit of shades to consume the invaders below. The dwarfs, humans and high elves are slowly creeping back from the keep walls. The air of defeat radiates from their masses as they almost sluggishly retreat.

Lisette targets a dwarven engineer, and smiling, shoots a Doom Bolt to finish him off. She then strafes along looking for her next target, but they are all out of the range of her spells. She hears the order "Do not chase!!!" echo through the battleground and her anger builds as she imagines jumping off the wall and snaring those falling behind the surge.

"That means you too my dear". As always, he is near. Her healer. Her lover.

A finger traces the line of her spine from the base of her neck down to her waist.

The day's frustrations surge to the surface and she immediately pulls away from him, "You are dampening the power of my magic" she says angrily walking away from him, then calling over her shoulder, "I cant concentrate and call the dark when you are touching me like that".

Walking briskly away, she leaves him standing on the wall alone and goes find a place to rest for the next few hours.

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

Relatively secure until the next push, they are given their leave until 3rd watch. Everywhere, the destruction army was celebrating wildly, drinking, laughing, brawling playfully as if the day's carnage had never happened.

She can feel the ice on her skin as she climbs the stairs to the tower room. The gold in her pocket depleted from the expense of a private place to sleep for the night. Lisette can still feel the dark magic swirling through her blood, her instinct to pursue and not hold and defend. Entering the tiny room, she walks over to the table and chair by the small slit of a window. Struggling to remove her pack, she roughly pulls the bag off, throwing it with much force against the wall, talismans spilling all over the floor, "Curses!" she growls hotly.

"Tsk tsk my little hellcat. What has you so fired up?"

Alexivorn.

So self absorbed she didn't even sense him. He could have been a Witch Hunter and she would be dead.

"Hush, or you will feel my claws, Disciple!" she replies in her dark mood.

"But i what if I want to feel your claws?" he suggestively banters.

"There is so much dark in me right now, i wouldn't get too close. I could knock you back out that door, over the edge, to your death." Lisette motions towards the outer door leading to the balcony. Gods, he infuriated her at times!

She turns to face him. No wonder she had not seen him. His dark grey clothing and midnight black hair had allowed him to subtly blend into the shadows. He leans against the wall by a small pallet on the floor, the "bed" that had cost her 10 gold in support of "keep defense".

He smiles a lazy smile, taking a step towards her, "You are so lovely when you are angry." Another step closer, "I was watching you today, prowling the edges of the battlefield," He keeps moving still closer, "waiting for an unsuspecting straggler to wander into range. The way you look when you are casting the final blow....like a radiant goddess of death." He reaches for her but she turns away, showing him her back.

Then he puts his hands on her waist.

The nerve! Son of an Orc. Bastard.

She plans to give him a little sting, calling up some surging pain but her dark magic has built up so much that the spell backlashes smacking sharply back at her. At them. It feels like a thousand whips hitting all over her body at once. It surges through Lisette and into Alexivorn. Though his pain is diffused by her, she still hears his grunt of discomfort and then a deep breath to steady himself. "It's ok you can fight me," he says quietly.

"Let go of me!!", she cries. At the same time, ice spikes rise from the floor and a million tiny ice crystals, one more beautiful than the next rain, down on Alexivorn and Lisette. The room glows briefly as if lit by a million pinprick sized candles, and then the light is gone as fast as it came. Snowflakes.

"Of course my dear", Alexivorn smiles, recognizing her veiled request immediately, "Whatever you wish." and with that, he roughly releases her waist only to grab a hold of her wrists and yank them back behind her locking them in a tight grip with one hand. She feels him hesitate and wait for her sign to be sure this is what she wants, what she needs. Again she summons snowflakes, the air dancing with radiant glimmer, and answers back sharply, "I said, let go", as she struggles in his grasp relishing the feel of his strength. Lex's other hand wraps around in front of her and pulls her roughly back where he attacks her neck with his teeth biting down hard in three successive scrapes. The pain shocks her and excites her, urging her to fight.

Lisette uses all her strength to strain against him, trying to twist and dance her way out of his hold but he will not let her go. Her breath is ragged as she exerts herself. His is calm and measured, barely any effort required to restrain her. It feels so good to get the fight out. She jabs her elbows back into his chest but he is holding her too tight. He is so strong she thinks to herself as she tries to use her weight to move him but it only makes him grip her tighter, then she notices his arm. So unfair.... she looks down at the muscles of his forearm that imprisons her and her instinct is drawn from fight to something far more primal entirely.

She stills for a moment, only temporarily distracted. She still wants to fight, but she carefully plans her next move. Lex takes the opportunity to release his hold a little and move his hand up to stroke her soft hair, twining his fingers through it, though he is no fool. He keeps her wrists clamped in his other hand, just in case. Seizing the chance for surprise, she twists her body quickly but is thwarted by his reflex to grab a handful of hair and yank it back to keep her restrained. Damn him. She is excited already and can feel a tinge of wetness between her legs.

Her neck now exposed again, he scrapes his beard across her delicate skin tickling her mercilessly, then murmurs, "Do you surrender?"

"No" she says measured for effect, "Curse you."

Using his body to move her, he guides her in the direction of the straw filled pallet as she struggles. Still holding her wrists he pulls off her skirt and grasping the thin strip of fabric from the front, pulls at it using his foot to leverage the tearing of it. He quickly and expertly binds her wrists. His mouth kisses down her spine and nibbles at the small of her back. His hands are now free to roam over her backside and down her legs and back up again with maddening slowness. His hands slip off her panties, letting them fall to the ground.

Lisette feels his hot mouth move over her skin. So soothing to what angers her, yet disappointed she couldn't even resist him for a few minutes. Oh how she wanted him! Was she so much his slave? No, it was more complicated. He was her servant, willing to do anything she asked to give her pleasure even provide a private place to give up her control. And she still wanted too fight.

Spinning quickly she twirls around, her knee coming within inches of making contact with his jaw but again, he is too fast for her as he grasps her leg. "You're not playing nice" he says with a small laugh. Lisette tries not to match his grin, though it is so difficult as Lex rarely so much as twitches in the direction of a smile. He uses his grip on the underside of her knee to pull her close to him, her hands still bound, her leg held up to his waist, she is vulnerable yet again.

"Please" she snickers disdainfully," I'm not even using magic!!"

"That would be most unfair", he replies.

"Unlike binding my wrists. That is fair" she adds.

"It's absolutely necessary", Lex sets his free hand to seek slowly between her legs. His deliberate positioning of her imprisoned leg has spread her apart to the mercy of his fingers. He teases her clit, rolling it between his fingers. "You are so wet already" he whispers, his voice cracking with undisguised desire, "I could take you right now". He presses his hips to her and she feels the push of his hardness against her side. Leaning in, he brushes her forehead lightly with his lips, then her temple, along the side of her face and down, trailing along her jawline at last, to her lips where he places a quick kiss and then stops. He is close enough she can feel his breath on her mouth but he is no longer kissing. Instead, he is focused on his fingers playing between her legs. Every little tingle of pleasure making her breathe still faster, sharing the expelled breath with him.

Alexivorn releases her leg and kneels down in front of her. Sweet torture Lis thinks to herself as she feels his tongue slide along the cleft between her legs. Wasting no time, his fingers pull her pussy lips apart as he presses his tongue hard against her clit in long slow strokes. She shudders with pleasure he draws her into his mouth, sucking gently, letting a whimper of defeat escape her lips. Curse him!, she realises she has shown her surrender as he reaches behind to untie her arms. She twines her fingers through his hair as he licks and sucks on her pussy, no longer caring to fight. Lis shifts her hips, parting her legs a little more, just enough so he can thrust his tongue inside her, her moans and breathing guiding his stroking tongue as the delight builds inside her. His fingers move to massage her clit in slow circles and again spread her wide and pull up as his tongue finds and strokes her throbbing pink flesh. She ardently presses her fingers into his neck as she orgasms with a contented sigh. Submission isn't so bad after all.

Her satisfaction is only brief. The need for more compels her to start to untying the fastenings of his leather armor. She is too impatient by far, and pulls at him to stand again so she can feverishly undress him. She wants to feel his body against hers, to feel his hard muscles under her hands. He grabs her by the hair and leads her into an all consuming kiss. She can taste herself in his mouth and the need grows even more frantic, her hands fumble in frustration with his layers of clothing and armor until it is all off. His hands at her hips now, he pulls her down on top of him in a swift motion as he lowers to a sitting position on the waiting pallet.

Astride his lap, Lisette squirms, now fighting again, but this time to position herself to slide onto him. But Lex holds her firmly away, kissing and licking her neck and shoulders and not allowing her what she wants, "Please" she begs him breathlessly. "Lex please! I need you". She hears an animal sound from deep in his throat, his hot breath against her shoulder. He roughly pulls her down, sweet fulfilment as he impales her on his hard cock. The force and shock of the penetration releases her own feral feminine cry. She wraps her legs around his waist, feeling the full length of his hardness filling her, stretching her completely.

His hands roam over her back. The stillness feels like eons until he starts to move in her. Holding her tight in his embrace, his lips find hers for a slow languid kiss as he rocks her gently. She stays wrapped around him, arms, legs, clinging to him for life. She is so full of him that each fraction of his movement causes her to tighten making the feeling even more intense. As the friction teases and taunts, she gasps little moans into his mouth over and over.

Lex releases his hold and leans back on one hand thrusting his hips up against her. She cant believe he could possibly go deeper, but she is filled even more. As the waves of orgasm pulse over her, she moans a long deep sound of satisfaction.

"Thats right. Purr for me, my kitten, I've got you", Lex assures, pulling her back into a tight hold. Some of the ache of release has left her body but it's not enough. She sighs as she wraps her arms around her lover, resting her head on his shoulder as they pause in a still embrace. They are completely motionless except for the lightly throbbing squeezes enveloping his hardness and the rise and fall of their breathing. Cradling her body, he leans into her and carries her down to the pallet, carefully so as not to slide out of her.

Positioned over her, he moves slowly, sliding his cock in and out of her as he holds her gaze, their bodies close. He knows what she wants and she tries not to be too frustrated with his excruciatingly slow pace. Her hips rise to meet every thrust letting him know she is ready. He is still holding her and has not yet moved. "Are you ready?" he inquires, followed by a hard forceful thrust. One hand firmly caresses her arm from shoulder to wrist, and then quickly jerks the wrist, forcing a bend at the elbow pinning her wrist to the pallet with his strong hand.

"Yes I am ready", she says hotly.

Lex follows the same path on the other arm, now both her arms pinned. Her arms sink into the pallet as Lex raises himself up on his arms pushing down on her. He slowly pulls all the way out of her and then slams back inside her. Lisette wriggles in delicious agony. "I'm ready". She scolds urgently, staring him down, she is so very tempted to use her magic but she decides better of it. Her eyes flash as she thinks of all the spells she could zap him with.

Alexivorn leans down and whispers, "My sweet sorceress, tell me what you want"

"You know what I want!" she growls back at him.

He laughs quietly, "You are so lovely like this" he says as he kisses her neck, just below her ear. Then his teeth pull her earlobe into his mouth sucking it briefly, "So delicious".

She shivers slightly and whispers "Lex" then a pause for a sharp intake of breath, "Fuck me" exhale.

He pulls out slightly and then thrusts, repeating a few times to find the right depth. She watches him push up, supporting himself on his arms as he moves over her finding the right position. He is watching her intently. At first she sighs a little contented sigh as she feels the friction of his varied movements. She pulls her bent legs up and adjusts her hips as he plunges into her over and over, his thrusts deepening and changing until he finds the place that makes her moan out loud. He releases her arms and she stretches above her head to brace them against the wall arching her back slightly. His cock is buried in her to the hilt. His pace is increasing, faster and harder, as he relentlessly pounds into her. She is so breathless, each thrust knocking the air from her lungs with a tiny cry.

Lisette observes Lex through veiled lashes. The sight of his flexing muscles as he moves, his body taught and tight, so different from her own, so beautifully male. Designed to please her. This what it feels like to be taken by a man. She closes her eyes for a brief few seconds and then it comes, the release she needs. The intense shattering release. She lets it take over her body. Lex stills, pressed deep into her, letting her squeeze him. He waits for her to stop moving then he starts again. Driving into her depths, resuming his thrusting the way she likes it. Hard. Fast. Deep.

Lisette can't get enough him. Her hands grip his biceps as he pounds into her. "Lex", she breathes his name interspersed between whimpers of pleasure. She digs her nails into his arms as another wave of orgasm takes her. This time he does not stop but continues fucking her as she loses control. Her climax does not stop either, it just keeps washing over her body in varying waves of intensity, fierce and then fading, but never completely stopping and then hard and tight again. He does not slow until she is spent. Lis's hands glide over his shoulders and she pulls him down closer. She traces her hands over his back. He is moving slowly within her now, enjoying every whisper of her caress. He relaxes slightly in her embrace his breathing ragged, heat radiating off his body. She closes her eyes and sighs, relishing the smooth strokes of his hard cock, arching her back as she exhales, stretching her arms up over her head. Bracing against the wall again she pushes her hips at his. "More?", he smiles.

The air surrounding them bursts into light as the ice crystals fall, cooling their bodies. Snowflakes.

"More", she demands, meeting his thrusts, "Don't ever stop".