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“Oh—”
Oh, My God, Furina had almost said the moment the Knave undid the front of her handsome suit pants, but she reminded herself in the back of her mind that she was acting as Fontaine’s God, and she closed her mouth.
It was a good thing she did, since what Arlecchino had fished out of her pants—thick, hard, and near pulsating from the moment it emerged—hit Furina right in the face, plopping against her lips. It was hot and stiff, and Furina swallowed her saliva down thickly as the heat of the Knave’s cock all but throbbed palpably against her. The underside of the cock, discolored a murky black and pulsing with deep red veins running along the sides of the shaft, was pushed right underneath her nose. The scent of it almost made her dizzy.
Nervously, Furina peered up at the Knave, who simply smiled back down at her, seemingly satisfied with her little Archon’s position beneath her. It looked to be a cordial smile, as if they were meeting over tea.
“Is there something on your mind, Lady Furina?” Arlecchino taunted lowly. “Perhaps something you’d like to say to me?”
What a question. Of course Furina could say nothing to this woman without there being consequence.
Tongue in cheek, Furina murmured, “No,” opening her mouth against the cock enough that her lips grazed against it lightly. Against her own wishes, her body shuddered at the sensation, and the light taste of the Knave’s cock on her bottom lip sent a heat down between her legs. She resisted the urge to swipe her tongue over her lip, convinced it was nervousness alone that guided her.
“What a shame,” Arlecchino muttered, though she did not seem all that displeased. She used a nail to loop Furina's hair around her finger, as if this were a gentle, sweet affair. A little tryst after a tea date. “Though, I suppose I’ve quite come to enjoy watching you stumble through your words.”
Humiliation blossomed in her chest like an inferno, akin to the pyro vision this Lord Arlecchino wore on her back. No , Furina decided, she did not have anything to say to this dreaded person. The Knave had been blackmailing Furina ever since the incident in which she’d almost ended her life in the dead of night of Fontanian streets, telling her that if Furina did not comply with her desires, she really would kill her.
( “And you wouldn’t want that, would you, Miss Furina?” The Knave had said, closing her claws around the skinny, powerless arms of a ‘God.’ )
Furina absolutely could not let the Knave’s threats come to pass.
If Furina were to die, all of Fontaine was to be doomed, sunk beneath the sea, and her suffering would be meaningless. Furina wished terribly, with the Harbinger’s cock pressed flush against her cheek, that she could scream the truth at the top of her lungs, that she could tell the Knave: Don’t do this to me! You want to save Fontaine, but you’re dooming it, so let me go already!
By Focalors’ design, Furina had to keep her five hundred year long silence.
And so, she’d ended up persuaded into doing these “favors” for the Knave, all of them met out with her divine body. It seemed the Harbinger’s appetite for pretty women was insatiable—Furina had certainly heard rumors that it was so.
Since Furina did not speak again, the Knave spoke for her.
“If you only intend to stare with your mouth agape,” Arlecchino chuckled, turning one strand of hair into a fistful as she pulled Furina against her throbbing cock. “Then it's better to use it in that case.”
“I’m—I’m not—” Furina said, unable now to escape the Knave's cock pressed hard against her. Even as she breathed, she huffed warm air against the shaft pressed against her nose. It was as though each of her senses was being snuffed out and smothered; all of them replaced by the Knave and her mighty cock. “I just have to—this?” Furina finished meekly, and by the time she was done, she'd more than rubbed her lips all over Lord Arlecchino's cock. She could taste the Knave all over her mouth, her chin, could smell the sweat and the natural musk of her mixed with her cologne.
“Exactly,” said Arlecchino, smiling just slightly down at Furina in an incredibly awful way. “You will have to grow accustomed to taking me, after all—what with our gracious arrangement you've so selflessly dedicated yourself to, ‘O Great Hydro Archon.’”
Arlecchino's smile turned into a sneer. She pulled Furina in further, smothering her with the taste and scent and sensation of a Harbinger's cock. Furina groaned lightly, huffing as she attempted to take a breath that was not composed only of the overwhelming scent of Arlecchino.
“Then, just as serving Fontaine is your duty—this is just as well, now,” Arlecchino murmured to her. “Though, I have a feeling you might very well be better at one than the other.”
They were in Furina’s quarters. It wasn’t as though Neuvillette or her attendants would intrude on her private space uninvited, but she found herself still afraid. The Knave had visited her in her own bedroom to violate her to make her understand she was not safe.
What if the noises were heard? For all these long years, they had never heard her when she cried alone, miserable and drowned in the weight of her duty to Focalors, but the thought that she might be heard doing this made Furina’s stomach ache with unease. Almost as if it would be even worse to be discovered with a Harbinger’s cock very nearly in her mouth.
“I want you to grow familiar with this,” Arlecchino commanded, guiding the conversation with ease as Furina was occupied with her cock. “Feel it with your hands and tongue. Ah, but remove your gloves, first. The fabric would not be pleasant.”
“Okay…”
Furina did as she was told, reaching down to remove her gloves. Arlecchino at least allowed Furina that much. She set them to her side, and shakily, she lifted her small, bare hands to wrap them around Arlecchino’s massive girth.
Just as the cock had ached against her lips and cheek, it warmed in her hand; it seemed to be formed of the Knave’s pyro vision. It was not a ‘real’ cock in the sense that the Knave was born with it attached to her person, but it was real in every other way. The gentle pulsing of life in her hands was proof of that.
“...It’s…big,” Furina said unsurely.
Without missing a beat, Arlecchino said, “You’ll be able to handle it, Miss Furina.”
“...You have too much faith in me,” Furina breathed, awed.
“You’re the Archon of this nation, are you not?” Arlecchino posed in such a way that it was clear she was mocking her.
“Of course I am,” insisted Furina, cheeks pinkened. Saying so, she moved her hand up Arlecchino’s cock in a way that was not too smooth.
Arlecchino hissed lightly underneath her breath. Furina startled, looking at her nervously.
“Ah—” Furina started, fearing reprehension.
“Wet your hand,” said Arlecchino evenly, breathing in through her nose. It seemed she had held herself back from hitting Furina across the face with an open palm, or worse.
Furina was privately thankful for the Knave’s graciousness.
“...W-with?” Furina asked unsurely, feeling herself stir as her palm slithered more gently up the massive cock in her grip, to where the head was. It was thick, and a dark color. She felt a little bead of something sticky—precum?—and blushed deeply, wondering what it would be like if she…
Tasted it? For a moment’s time, Furina fell hypnotized by the prospect of tasting her in such a way, until Arlecchino’s voice centered her once more.
“Your spittle,” Arlechino told her, smiling in such a way that indicated she must have known what was on Furina’s mind. “What else?”
But that surely couldn’t have been true. It couldn’t be true that Furina actually wanted to taste her.
“O-oh right,” Furina breathed. “Of course… how else would I…”
Though it felt wholly unrefined, especially for one posing as the Archon of a nation, Furina did as she was told and spit into her hand. It dribbled from her small lips, dipping between the creases of her fingers before she returned them to Arlecchino’s cock. It really did go much more smoothly, guided by the sticky wetness, and Arlecchino, who had made herself comfortable on the corner of Furina’s bed, grunted her approval softly.
“That’s it,” Arlecchino whispered, her voice thick. “So much easier.”
Furina couldn’t help but agree. It was much easier, like this. It felt… good, almost, to hold Arlecchino, warm and hard, in her palm.
“Do you truly require further instruction?” Arlecchino asked. There was more expectation there, than impatience. “You should know what to do, Miss Furina?”
“I’m not so inexperienced as to not know something like this,” Furina flushed, steadily beginning to jerk the Knave off. The cock was incredibly weighty in her hands. Though Arlecchino’s balls were tucked away behind the band of her pants, Furina could not help but wonder—half-awed, half-afraid, of how full they were—and without intention, drool streaked down her chin, as if eager.
Watching Furina drool on herself, Arlecchino rolled her neck, tilting her head back in such a way that her long hair, kept in a neat, handsome ponytail, cascaded down her back. “Mm,” she hummed shortly, contended by her whore Archon. “You’re making a mess of yourself, Miss Furina.”
“N-no,” Furina stuttered, even as her hand squeezed around Arlecchino’s base, jerking up to the rounded, fat head before jerking back down, her movements coming together in a rhythm that felt far too natural to catch on to. “I can’t… I can’t stand this,” she insisted.
“I’m sure,” Arlecchino husked, peering down at Furina from narrowed eyes. “Use your mouth, Miss Furina. The side of it, the head. You flap your gums up on stage, surely you can learn how to suck a cock.”
Furina’s mouth flooded at the thought of putting the cock in her mouth, filled with drool in wait to taste the Lord Harbinger in her hands. “I-I don’t think it’ll fit in my mouth,” Furina gasped, pressing just her nose to the underside. “After all, I can barely…”
Barely fit a hand around it, she’d meant to say. Furina’s fingers didn’t even touch as she slid her palm up and down Arlecchino’s hard cock, feeling how stiff and hot it was. Furina wriggled her behind, pushing her thighs together. She wondered if Arlecchino knew that she was wet between the legs, and swiftly came to the conclusion that there was no way she absolutely didn't.
Furina briefly caught the Knave’s gaze flickering to her wriggling bottom before it trailed back to her face.
“Put your mouth on it, then. Revere it, kiss it—do anything, other than gawk like an empty-minded fool?” Arlecchino's words melted into a lilt, as if she were offering a suggestion rather than delivering a taunt.
“I am no fool… I am Furina de Fontaine, the Regina of all waters, Kindreds, People and Laws…” Furina insisted weakly, starting with just a little kiss as she brushed her lips against the side.
The Regina of all Waters, being taught how to pleasure the cock of a Fatui Harbinger.
Shame burned in her core as tentatively, she gave the side of Arlecchino's cock a little kiss. The throbbing felt more intense than it had before, like she could feel Arlecchino's arousal pulsate in the vision-fueled veins that decorated the dark shaft of it. She wondered if it would feel good if she focused her attention along the veins, and allowed her tongue to snake along one of the thick ridges.
“That— is more like it, Miss Furina,” Arlecchino hummed, voice pleasantly husked out from between her teeth. Though Arlecchino's smirk was endlessly condescending and cruel, undoubtedly enjoying the corruption of her nation's Archon, Furina sought to continue.
Because she had to. Surely not because she wanted to. If she just told herself as much, then it would surely come true.
So: Furina continued. She lapped against the sides of the veins, up to the head, where she learned that sucking right against the frenulum was pleasurable enough that it made Arlecchino's powerful hips twitch. Hah , Furina thought to herself, though too afraid to speak her pride aloud: I made this Harbinger's hips quiver for me. Focusing her attention on the thick, reddened head of the cock, she took it into her mouth and sucked clumsily.
Arlecchino didn't seem to mind the clumsiness, what with her perpetually unnerving smile ever-present as she hummed just occasionally, like a king being serviced by her whore.
Furina wondered just how many whores Arlecchino had at her disposal around Fontaine, how many other women were made to get on their knees and perform like this for her.
Furina, with just the tip in her mouth, looked up towards Arlecchino with the flicker of her gaze - the taste of something slick coating her tongue more and more with her ministrations. She recognized it as what she had tasted before: that was, Arlecchino’s pre-ejaculate. Furina should have been disgusted, should have pulled away, but instead, she pulled her head back to cutely lap right at the slit of Arlecchino's cock.
Arlecchino did not seem all too content to allow Furina to pull away from her, though.
“That's very nice, Miss Furina,” Arlecchino sighed, like she simply could not help what she was about to do. An instinct for danger sounded in Furina’s head, but there was nowhere for her to go or run to. Arlecchino grabbed the back of Furina's fluffy hair, claws sinking into the soft locks and scraping against her scalp in a way that was sure to make wounds and draw blood, and then she yanked her all the way down to the very base of her cock. “But it's not enough. Here, inept as you are, I'll show you what to do. Ah—keep it there.”
Furina knew how much of a fool she must look like: eyes blown wide, flooded with tears that just as quickly cascaded down her cheeks—how could she not be? The Knave’s cock was nestled down her throat as if Furina was nothing more than a sleeve to pleasure herself with. Her words and her resulting autonomy snatched from her, the only thing that Furina could do was try her best not to vomit around the intrusion, reaching a flailing hand up to place it on Arlecchino's bent knee.
Arlecchino afforded Furina no kindness. She scoffed, “Hah… this is certainly a proper look for you, Miss Furina.”
To make her point known, and to sprinkle salt into Furina's gaped open wounds, she pushed Furina further against her pelvis until her nose was flat against Arlecchino’s crotch, irritated by the fabric of her pants. Furina gagged, and it must have felt all the better to the Knave, because she grinned .
“Your… performance, earlier, was cute indeed, but not quite up to par. Stupid slut—this is why Fontaine sees you as a pet rather than a God.”
Furina could not even defend herself. She moaned weakly, throat stretched full of inches too many and on fire like she was going to choke.
The Knave had nothing else to say, and with Furina both unable and unwilling to speak, pride torn to bits of nothingness, Arlecchino fucked Furina's face down onto her cock.
She used the back of Furina's head, her ghastly, gnarled hand with nails sharp enough to impale her, to move her up and down along the cock. The cock went in, sliding back to just the tip that sullied Furina’s wet lips with more pre-cum, and then went back down, opening her throat up and bulging her neck obtusely.
“Now then… Miss Furina,” Though Arlecchino was shamelessly pleasuring herself, her control remained absolute: it never once wavered, not even in the dusky flush of her cheeks; pleasure wrought from Furina's misery. “You'll swallow it all, won't you? It's the least you can do, making me do all the work.”
It was a mockery to even pose it as a question. Furina never had a choice.
Furina whined weakly, that whine turning into a gargle once Arlecchino bobbed her head down on her cock once, twice, and then on the third time, forced it all the way into her throat before she released a powerful surge of cum.
It felt like—it felt suffocatingly full in the ways of her throat being occupied, yes—but more than the stretch of her neck, and the bulge formed, Furina became aware of the sudden fullness of her stomach. Since the Knave’s cock was made from her vision, the cum is hotter than Furina had ever thought possible, and it burned and ached from the inside.
It was the greatest mercy when Arlecchino released her, pulling all—oh, it must have been nine or ten inches—of her cock out of Furina’s throat to instead spray her face with what she did not pump down her stomach. Furina coughed violently as her delicate features were decorated in the Knave’s release, feeling it splatter hot on the bridge of her nose, her cheeks, and even her pretty eyelashes.
“...Gah… hah…” Furina breathed, reaching up to feel her neck desperately. She couldn’t believe she had taken so much; it ached and felt sore. “E-enough of this! I can’t—” Her voice was sore, her throat battered… but she was wetter than she had ever been in her entire life—five hundred years, and she’d never felt this good.
The perks of having a cock made from fire must have been grand, because Arlecchino’s did not seem to soften even in the aftermath of her orgasm. Furina prickled, looking from the still-erect cock to Arlecchino’s face, tears streaming down her own. Her tongue came out of her mouth, and Arlecchino reached forward to pinch it with her claws. It pierced through, and Furina whined, blood dripping down her chin with her drool and Arlecchino’s cum.
“I wish I could say you did a fine job, Miss Furina…” The Knave sighed, like Furina’s incompetence simply could not be helped. “But you hardly put in the work. The night is still young for us. Why don’t I teach you a bit more? We’ll begin with your other holes… which to use first? Here; I’ll give you the choice.”
Furina trembled at the thought that Arlecchino might penetrate her. That was her first thought—before she corrected her course, and made herself think of how horrible this was, and how she didn’t want to be here.
Ignoring her twitching wet inner-thighs, Furina whimpered helplessly, opening her mouth. The Knave’s red eyes glistened in the sliver of moonlight that peeked through Furina’s curtains.