Chapter Text
“Your pet really is full of delightful surprises,” Xilthara said with a smile and eyed Skari like he was a juicy piece of meat. “Does the Norscan beast want a biscuit? Oh, look! He glared at me.” She giggled.
"Please stop teasing my bodyguard,” Syrathene said and sipped her tea, hiding her annoyance behind a face of indifference.
“Why? I want him mad. Pent up. Frustrated.” Xilthara's voice got more sultry with each word.
Xilthara was perhaps making herself a bit too comfortable in Syrathene’s home. If she hadn’t been a Dark Lady and the matriarch of a prominent and wealthy family, Syrathene would have seriously considered asking her to leave.
“You didn’t come all the way here just to have my Norscan use you like a freshly captured slavegirl, did you?”
“Oh, sorry.” Xilthara straightened her back and took on a more proper pose on the couch. “The last couple of days have been awfully stressful. It’s a wonder I even got a wink of sleep last night.”
Syrathene understood. Kharzeth’s interrogations had gone through the night and into the late morning. No rest. No refreshments. She had fallen asleep somewhere in the afternoon and slept until this morning. Skari fell asleep soon after they got home and slept through the whole day and night, and he still looked a bit drowsy.
The mansion felt empty without Sylfi. The other servants were ignorant and inelegant. Everything took a lot longer. It was a wonder they had managed to serve the tea properly.
“So… any news from inside the Spire?” Syrathene asked.
Xilthara lowered her gaze before picking up and sipping her own tea. “Sadly, no.” She paused. “But I am sure that as long as we stay by our version of the events, the Dreadlord will have no cause to target us.”
“Perhaps. But if he can’t find someone guilty, he might look for a scapegoat.”
“Hmm?” Xilthara raised one eyebrow.
“Remember the Khainite Assassin?”
“The one you singlehandedly dispatched with only a poisoned knife?”
A much better truth than that she ran and the assassin was blindsided and killed by Skari’s warpfire.
“Yes. Who do you think would have both means and motive to hire such a lethal blade?”
Xilthara barely moved a muscle on her face, but the recognition in her eyes was clear. “Ah. Though I reckon he may think twice after your display at the banquet. It certainly left quite the impression.”
It had, hadn’t it? No longer the disgraced corsair captain. Syrathene had to force a neutral face, lest a smug little smile creep onto her lips. Too bad that little joy didn’t last long with the next topic at hand.
“We still have a small issue by the name of Velkyssa,” Syrathene said.
“Indeed. She complicates things.”
“What if we kidnapped her?” Skari interjected in his fake foreign accent.
Xilthara’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked at him over her teacup. “That would be… dangerous,” she said and put the cup back on the table. “Besides, I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”
“But it would give us control over her,” Syrathene said. “And everyone already knows she and I… have a long history of animosity.” And it would be so satisfying to force that wench to scrub the floors.
“And how do you suggest we do that? You barely have the forces to guard your own estate. And I doubt she will be leaving her own anytime soon.”
Skari was an option. But making use of his magic would mean attracting attention – quite likely more attention than they could tolerate.
“We should at least talk with her,” Syrathene said, holding back her contempt at the idea.
“Yes. We should.” Xilthara sipped her tea again. “I’ll see about arranging a meeting. At my place. I don’t think either of you would be willing to visit the other.”
“You are not wrong.”
“Hmm.” Xilthara paused before shifting her eyes to Skari. “But let’s talk business.”
“Yes. You want hardy slave-stock for your family plantations?”
Xilthara nodded. “I think we can start looking for a ship. Though I doubt you’ll be allowed to sail anytime soon. But I was thinking we could start a breeding program in the meanwhile as well. I keep a sizable stock of females in my pens.”
“I have a few males in mine.”
“Yes. But I would prefer this one to be the father.” Xilthara pointed at Skari. “He’s big, strong, relatively smart, and – despite it all – obedient. Exactly the traits I want in my slaves.”
Syrathene glanced at Skari and noticed a hint of discomfort in his eyes. Perhaps this was not the best idea, but she needed silver; her coffers were nearly empty after having paid her tribute to Kharzeth.
“And how much would you be willing to pay?”
“100 silver for each female impregnated. A fair price I should say, since I will pay for the raising of them.” Xilthara regarded Skari for a second. “And I’ll be sure to send the prettiest. I fear this beast may have gotten a bit spoiled.” Her lips curved into a smug and wicked little grin as her eyes shifted back to Syrathene.
“A good offer. For a normal male. But I do think his rarity would make him worth 200 silver per impregnated female.”
“That is a premium price. How about a bulk price of 150 per female?”
“How big of a bulk are we talking about?”
“Let us start with ten females. I’ll send them over to your pen, along with provisions to feed them. You can then return them when their bellies start to show.”
Syrathene pursed her lips. “160 per female. And I’ll let you borrow him and a guestroom right after we’ve drafted a contract.”
The Dark Lady’s eyes glinted with lust as she eyed Skari. “Oh, I shouldn’t.” She turned back to Syrathene. “But if you insist. 160 silver per female.”
They drew up two copies of the contract and each signed both of them. They would still need a neutral third party to sign to validate them, but this would serve as a starting base for now.
Syrathene gave Skari the command. He gave her a disapproving glare in return before picking up Xilthara over his shoulder and carrying her upstairs. Despite being handled like a sack of potatoes, she looked at Syrathene with a smug little grin and waved goodbye right before disappearing out of view.
With a silent sigh Syrathene went back to her armchair in the lounge. Hopefully the floors and walls of her home would prove more soundproof. But more importantly, she hoped he would be willing to do what was required to uphold the contract. Either way, all she could do was wait. She had a servant fetch her book from her desk in her bedchamber as she didn’t want to go upstairs while Xilthara was busy enjoying herself.
“My lady Syrathene,” the human slavegirl said with a stiff accent as she returned with the book. “Your guest–”
Syrathene raised a hand to silence the slave. “I do not want to hear it.”
“Yes, my lady.” The servant bowed and left.
The book was decent. Though after two chapters it started to seem Xilthara was taking her sweet time. Perhaps too much time. Was she trying to drain him completely? Or was she trying to go through Syrathene’s possessions? Would Skari let her? Maybe if Xilthara fucked him good enough, he might. Was that what the servant tried to tell her?
Before she could call the servant back to ask, Xilthara came back down with Skari in tow. Her smug grin had grown softer with an undertone of satisfaction. It didn’t even seem to bother her that her black dress sat slightly off or that her hair could use a proper comb. Skari’s hair was even messier and he now only wore his cuirass over his clothes, and he had a weary and subtly grim look about him.
Xilthara pulled Skari close and briefly whispered something into his ear before turning to Syrathene. “I’ll be sure to send over the females at the earliest convenience,” she said with a friendly smile.
Syrathene forced a friendly smile of her own before putting down her book and getting up. “It has been a pleasure, Dark Lady Xilthara. I’m looking forward to doing business with you.”
“The pleasure was all mine, love.” Xilthara’s grin widened. “Goodbye.”
As soon as the door closed, Syrathene turned to Skari. But before she could even open her mouth to talk to him he grabbed her by the throat with his human hand and slammed her into the nearby wall. She pulled out her poisoned knife but it was caught by his scaly hand. He pinned her arm out along the wall. She tried to cut him, but the blade would not penetrate his scales.
“Unhand me, you beast!” she commanded through a gasp, grabbing his hand with her free one to either claw herself free or at least make breathing easier.
His grip barely eased. He leaned in close and peered into her eyes. “I can tolerate being your slave huskarl. I’m willing to kill for you. I’m willing to fuck pretty elven bitches for you. But having my children born into slavery is one step too far.”
“Oh really? So you’ve never had your way with a slavegirl that you then sold in Araby? I know where you Norscans like to sell your stock.”
He lifted her further up till her feet dangled above the floor and air became a precious commodity.
“What… do… you… want… beast?” she gasped.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to give me anything I cannot already take.” His eyes went down to her body.
“I can… have you… killed.”
His grip against her throat loosened just enough for her to be able to scream. He leaned in and whispered, “Try.”
She should scream. She should call for the guards. But she doubted that would help. Instead she stared back into his eyes with a desire to stab them until they were bloody eye sockets. This beast could not be allowed to unmake all she had accomplished so far. He was hers to command. He just needed to learn.
She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him close. It also gave her leverage to ease her breathing. “Go ahead then. Take what you want, beast!”
He twisted her wrist until it hurt so much she dropped the poisoned blade and it clattered against the stone floor. Even though the blade had been useless, she still felt more naked without it. All she had was her ability to scream, but as his grip tightened again around her throat she didn’t even have that. She tried to pull at his hand holding her throat to ease the breathing a little, but to little avail.
As breathing became difficult she began to rub her crotch against his. He was hard. Big. Thick. Twitching. He wanted her. Even if his eyes stared into hers with hatred, she could feel through his cock that he wanted her.
Letting go of her wrist, his clawed hand gripped her dress by the neckline and began tearing it down the middle until her large breasts spilled forth for him to see. And like a primitive brute, he began to gawk at her perfectly shaped bosom. A smug smile forced its way onto her lips.
“Go… on… then,” she forced out. “You… want… me…”
He carefully pinched her mauve nipple with his scaly fingers in such a way his claws wouldn’t hurt her. He pulled. Twisted. Played with them in ways she struggled to remember any man having done before. This beast had no right to make her feel like this. Yet he did. Her body grew hot against her will.
How long had it been since she’d fucked a man? Too long. Only this was no man – he was a mutated beast. But as his clawed hand began fondling her breast in such a way that his scales rubbed against her nipple and his claws threatened to pierce her skin, she couldn’t deny that the mixture of pain and pleasure hit a spot she craved. So much so an involuntary gasp escaped her lips.
Smack! His scaly palm hit the side of her right breast so hard it stung with sweet pain. Smack! Smack! Smack! That damn beast was slapping her breasts like drums so he could watch them jiggle. She hated it. She hated how good it made her feel. She hated how much she wanted him to stare at her bouncing breasts with those passionate eyes.
“Now…” he whispered as he went back to half gently twisting her right nipple back and forth. “Let go with your legs,” he commanded.
This beast had no right to tell her how he should fuck her. They would fuck like this.
Only he began to slowly pull her nipple. Further and further till it hurt so good. When he finally let go and her nipple pulled back so hard, it was almost enough to make her orgasm right then and there.
When she didn’t obey he tore up her dress further till her crotch was bared. Her light underwear was easy to rip away with his claws, baring her pussy and silky-haired little bush. He put the tip of his fingers on her clit before giving her a wicked grin. The fingers began rubbing her tender spot. First gently. Then faster.
Too much. He found her sweet spot. She began panting as best she could in his grip. She tried to resist but eventually she couldn’t hold back her orgasm. A half-strangled moan escaped her lips. Her entire body convulsed against his.
With her legs weakened he pried her off him, turned her around, and pinned her face first against the wall. He tore her dress into shreds he could use to tie her forearms together behind her back.
“You know how much that dress cost?” she spat as she struggled to wriggle free.
“I don’t care,” he muttered as he grabbed her forearms with his scaly hand to keep her pinned while he removed his pants.
When his pants dropped, he reached around and grabbed her pussy by digging two thick, long, rough fingers deep inside of her. He yanked her ass back against his crotch. Her face briefly left the wall before being pushed back against it. Now she stood bent over like a bitch, her tits dangling down and his hard cock resting between her ass cheeks.
“You really are a beast. Is this what you like? Does it turn you on to fuck me from behind like I’m your bi– Atharti’s tits…”
His cock was too big. Painfully big. Yet he didn’t seem to care as he slowly pushed deeper and deeper, stretching her around his manhood till the tip kissed her cervix and his crotch pushed into her plump ass. His hard meat was hot like burning iron and pulsating with desire.
“You were saying?” he said with a chuckle before slapping her ass so hard the sound echoed through the hall and left a delicious stinging pain.
“Just rape me, you beast,” she groaned.
Best to just get this over with. She would only need to endure this humiliation for a little while. She’d let him indulge his desires for her and in turn she’d sink her claws into him. Even if it meant being fucked like a tied-up animal.
Only he didn’t finish quickly.
The repeated smacking of his crotch against her ass kept echoing through the mansion. His armor rustled faintly from the repeated movements. Soon her own reluctant moans joined in. Each thrust slammed into her so hard it sent her dangling breasts bouncing. Good thing she still had her high heels on or she’d be struggling to stay on her toes as this damn giant-blooded barbarian pounded her.
He spanked her ass, forcing her to gasp. Smack! He struck her ass again. And again. It was like he was obsessed with her ass. He should be. She’d worked hard on it.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a few slavegirls watch her with terrified amazement. Were they jealous? Whatever they were, she didn’t need an audience.
“Go back to your rooms!” Syrathene ordered.
The slaves stole a few more glimpses of Syrathene being fucked from behind before they slinked away and out of sight.
He slapped her ass again. “Don’t like an audience?” he teased.
“You want one?” she teased back.
“Don’t you want every girl in the house to know you’re the bitch I want?” He spanked her again before sliding his hand around her hip so he could finger her clitoris as he pounded her.
“You think I’m your bitch?” She chuckled before a moan escaped her.
“You’re getting fucked like one.”
“You going to blow your load in your sexy bitch then? Like a good guard dog?” she said playfully as she clamped down hard on his pulsating cock.
His fingers on her clit got more intense. She began to pant and moan even harder. Yet she felt he was getting close as well. His pounding became more frantic. She only needed to hold back a little longer. She would not orgasm before him. Yet she did. A few seconds later he buried his cock balls deep in her pussy and began pumping his load straight into her womb. Good thing he couldn’t impregnate her. But she loved the thought that he really wanted to. She’d make him her bonded beast.
As he came he let out a low, drawn-out groan. After he was done pumping his seed into her, he muttered something in Norse, leaned in over her back, and cupped her dangling breasts with his hands.
“You really can be annoying at times,” he murmured.
His cock was growing soft inside her, yet he didn’t pull out. Good. He was already learning where he belonged.
“You done already?” she mocked.
His hands tightened their grip, his fingers digging into her breast as hard as he could without his claws piercing her skin. “No. I’m only getting started. I’m gonna fuck my bitch till she’s full of my seed.”
He eased the grip before shifting to an odd groping massage where he pushed each finger into her breasts in quick succession. Then he pinched both her erect nipples and played with them. Why did she have to have such sensitive breasts?
After teasing her breasts for so long she could feel his cock begin pulsating back to life inside her, he wrapped his arms around her and carried her on his cock from the entrance hall to the lounge. As if having been fucked from behind and against the wall hadn’t been bad enough. What did he think she was? Some pretty elf shaped sock for his dick?
In the lounge he tossed her onto her back on the couch before grabbing her hair and pulling her head over the armrest where he put his slimy big cock up to her lips. Did he seriously think she’d suck him off when his cock was dirty from both their love juices? Apparently he did, as he put a thumb to her chin and pried her mouth wide open so he could force his way in. She got an urge to bite it off. But when he then leaned in over to play with her pussy and breasts she hesitated.
How could someone so dominant be so focused on her pleasure? All dominant men she’d been with had used her for their own pleasure and left her scrambling for what scraps she could take for herself. The only attentive men she’d been with had been more submissive and boring, and they had only been that way because they had wanted something from her.
He had her effectively helpless. He could do anything to her. Torture her. Kill her. He could probably even get away with it by running off to that slut Xilthara. Yet he used his power over her to simply desire her. She hated him for it. She hated how much she loved his passionate dominance and how it made her melt. A slave shouldn’t be able to make her feel this way.
She pushed the shame to the back of her mind and focused on sucking his cock. He needed to learn that desiring her was right. He also still deserved a reward for saving her at the Midwinter Banquet. She’d show him she was the best woman he could ever hope for. That she was a much better woman to fuck than Dark Lady Xilthara.
The cock went deeper. Too deep. She had to fight back an urge to puke all over him. Her left eye began twitching as he pushed so far down her throat his bush tickled her lips and his hairy balls weighed on her nose. His intoxicating musk filled her nostrils and made her head a little foggy. Or maybe that was just the lack of air from his cock clogging her throat so much.
He fucked her mouth and throat with firm and slow thrusts. The repeated lack of air, the constant struggle against her own gag reflex, and his damned hands playing with her sensitive spots had her entire body twitching on the couch.
She came twice before he dumped another load in her. He pumped it out so deep down her throat she had no choice but to swallow. At least she didn’t have to taste it. But she wanted to – she was curious to see if his seed tasted as good as his balls smelled.
Her arms finally wriggled free in time for him to pull his cock out of her mouth. Strings of saliva hung between his cock and her lips. She gasped for air as she worked to regain her composure.
She didn’t let him get far, grabbing his balls before he could step back. “You’re not going anywhere,” she said before pulling his wilting cock back so she could kiss the tip and lick up any last drops of semen. Salty and slimy, but in an oddly nice way. Better than any loads she remembered tasting at the Midwinter Banquet.
He groaned something in Norse again from the pleasure of her lips and tongue. She went harder. Took him back into her mouth so she could hear him groan more.
“Take off your armor,” she ordered before going back to sucking his half-softened cock.
It took a moment before he obeyed. Soon his cuirass clanked onto the floor, followed by the rest of his clothes being tossed aside till he stood naked. Not that she could see much more than his balls and the underside of his cock from where she was.
“You like this? You like feeling a highborn Druchii woman’s lips around your Norscan cock?” she teased between kisses on the cock-head.
He only let out a groan – one of reluctant pleasure. Music to her ears. She sucked harder until his meaty rod came back to life and his groans became louder and more frequent. If she let go of his balls she was sure he wouldn’t pull back. An assumption he proved true when he instead forced his cock back down her throat and held it there.
More Norse words. What was he saying? Judging by the tone it sounded like an admission that she was right.
He began to pinch and pull her nipples again. She slipped a hand down between her legs to help him pleasure her as she slowly grew dizzier from the lack of air. Only when she began to see stars did he pull back and slap his saliva-covered cock all over her face.
How ruined was her makeup by now? She didn’t care as long as he wanted her regardless.
“Is that all you got, beast?” she gasped.
“I’m only getting started,” he said before pulling her head up by her hair so he could grab her waist and sling her over his shoulder. His scaly hand grabbed her ass and gave it a nice squeeze, his claws almost piercing her skin.
“Good,” she said as he began carrying her toward the stairs.
Before they’d even reached the first step his human fingers began playing with her pussy and clitoris. Each step up the stairs added a little pleasurable bump to the experience.
“Who’s my good little rape slut?” he asked once they were up on the second floor.
“I could have your balls cut off an–” Her words got cut as a restrained groan escaped her lips when he dug his fingers deeper and the delectable pressure on her clitoris increased.
“Who’s my good little rape slut?” he repeated.
She refused to answer. Did he seriously believe she’d entertain that crude epithet? She’d take this orgasm from him and leave him nothing in return. Only when she came close, he stopped.
“By Atharti!” she groaned.
He resumed. His fingers dug in deep to the sensitive spot while his thumb kept rubbing her clitoris. He kept her on the edge but never let her have her release. It became unbearable. Pain she could take, but this was something new.
“I’m a rape slut,” she finally murmured.
“What?”
“I’m a rape slut,” she said a tiny bit louder.
“Whose rape slut?”
She refused to answer. Then he pushed her to the edge again.
“Yours! I’m your good little rape slut. I’m your sexy Druchii highborn rape slut. And I want you to rape me till I can’t think of anything but your fucking cock!” she whined in defeat.
The orgasm he rewarded her with was greater than anything she could ever remember experiencing. Her mind went numb from the pleasure. So much so, she was left panting and limp on his shoulder.
If he didn’t fuck her so hard she couldn’t think of anything but his cock after this, she’d cut off his balls and feed them to her cold ones.
“I hate you,” she muttered once the orgasm had passed.
He stopped – at the floor below the one where her bedchamber lay – and put her down on the corridor carpet, where he then grabbed her ankles and pushed her legs up along her body until her feet were beside her head and her plump ass jutted up towards him.
“You want the slaves to see?” she taunted him. “Shall I call them? Shall I have them watch? See which bitch you belong to?”
He chuckled as he tried to line up his cock with her pussy. “Call them. Let them see their mistress get raped by her big Norscan.”
She couldn’t help but grin. “Her Norscan.” That little admission felt so good she didn’t care how degrading this position was when she called the slavegirls to come. They needed to see that he was hers – even if she maybe had to cut out their tongues afterward.
It didn’t take long at all for them to arrive. Were they peeking? They must have. Well now they wouldn’t get to watch from a safe place. She ordered them to kneel along the corridor walls beside her and watch.
The pounding was fierce. From this position he could put the full weight of his huge, muscular body behind every thrust. His cock was like a battering ram and her pussy was the gate about to break.
“Which slut here do you want to rape the most?” she panted as she stared up into his deep blue eyes.
“Which one am I raping now?” he cheekily retorted.
She paused for a moment before grinning. “Me. You’re raping me. You’re the loyal guard dog raping the bitch you desire the most.”
And it was true. He hadn’t forced himself on Xilthara as he did her. She’d had to order him to fuck that harlot. Whereas she only needed to exist for him to want her more than he wanted his future children. More than his own life. She could call the guards so easily. Yet he fucked her all the same.
His eyes didn’t even wander to the pretty, doe-eyed mares kneeling so obediently around them. They were fixed on her. On her eyes, lips, and jiggling breasts. His intense gaze felt as good – if not more so – than his scorching cock inside her.
“Open your mouth,” he ordered.
“Why?”
Smack! His human hand slapped across her face – just hard enough for the pain to be sweet.
“Open,” he ordered again.
“Slap me again,” she commanded.
Smack! More delectable pain.
“Again,” she said and grinned.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Only when she began to grow a little numb to the pain did she finally open her mouth wide and stick out her tongue for him. He leaned in close and spat a large globule of saliva right into her mouth.
“Swallow,” he ordered.
She let out a dark chuckle before letting his saliva slide down into her stomach. “You like that, big boy? You like watching me swallow?”
“Aye. And I’ve already made you swallow my seed.”
“And I’ll swallow every load you dump in my mouth like a good little rape slut.”
A crack appeared on his stern and domineering face – one of longing and deep desire. Seconds later he rammed in balls deep and came once more. Something he seemed a little surprised by. With each pulsating pump of his cock filling her up with his seed she felt her claws sink deeper into his soul.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
He panted and remained sheathed inside of her even as the flow of semen faded. It appeared he liked to be inside her. She made sure to keep massaging his cock to help nurture his desire into an addiction.
As his cock began to soften, Syrathene looked to the slaves that sat there looking absolutely stunned. “If I ever as much as suspect any one of you has mentioned this to anyone, I’ll feed all of you to my cold ones. Have I made myself clear?”
It took a few seconds before the slavegirls gave little terrified nods.
“I’ll make sure they won’t talk about this,” Skari said.
“How? By fucking them?” Syrathene responded, skeptical of his ability to influence the slaves.
“No. The only place I intend to dump my seed is here,” he said with a mischievous smile and poked her lower belly before moving his finger up along her body. “And here.”
He tried to poke her lips only for them to part and catch his finger in her mouth. Another crack of longing appeared in his composure as she began sucking on it. She playfully bit on it to pull his hand further down so she could suck on it even deeper. All the while they stared passionately into each other's eyes.
After a long moment she pushed the finger out of her mouth. “You want this little rape slut, don’t you? You want to fuck me till your balls are empty, don’t you?”
“I’m gonna fuck that mouth if you keep talking.”
“Do it then. Fuck my mouth. Show everyone here where you want to put your cock.”
He pulled out and grabbed her hair before pulling her up onto her knees. She quickly adjusted so she crouched and sat on her high heels with her legs spread wide. The carpet wasn’t soft enough for her to put that much weight on her knees and this position brought her mouth to a better level with his crotch.
“Open up,” he ordered and drummed his sticky cock against her cheek.
“Give me your apron,” Syrathene ordered one of the slavegirls.
“No no,” he said and pried her mouth open so he could force his dirty cock in between her lips.
So much for getting to suck a clean dick. At least she got the apron in time for her to wipe the inches closest to the base clean of pussy juice before he was hard enough to force himself down her throat.
Holding her head between both hands he began fucking her mouth and throat like it was her pussy. She endured it – relaxing her throat and letting her tongue do minimal work while he tired himself out pounding her mouth. To give him a nice view she jutted out her curvy ass.
From this position she got a better view of an odd tattoo that she hadn’t paid any attention to before. It sat right between his cock and his bellybutton: a winged serpent with a rolled-up tail. It appeared unfinished – only half the scales had been filled in with dark pink. No matter. She’d maybe ask him about it later. Right now she had a cock to suck.
She looked up and locked eyes with him. He was still fixated on her. His expression was stern and domineering, but she could see the obsession in his eyes. How long had he wanted to see her pretty lips around his fat cock? How long had he been pining for her? Perhaps she should put a bit more effort into sucking him. She couldn’t let his dream version of her be better than the real her – that would just lead to disappointment.
To not leave herself hanging she reached one hand down between her legs to masturbate while the other hand played with her breasts and nipples. She didn’t care that she came before he did. She didn’t care that she came two times before he dumped a thick, warm, salty, sticky load right onto her tongue. She kept sucking till no drops of semen were left in his meaty rod, then looked up at him and opened her mouth to show it to him.
“Shay you’re mine and I’ll shwallow,” she said.
“Swallow and say you’re my good little rape slut, and I’ll say I’m your loyal Norscan,” he retorted while slapping his softening and saliva-covered cock against her cheek.
It took a few seconds before she could swallow her pride and then his seed. “I’m your good little rape slut.”
“And I’m your loyal huskarl.” He leaned in and gave her a brief little kiss on the lips.
No man had ever kissed her on her lips after sucking his dick. She didn’t know how to feel about this.
“Carry me to my bed and I’ll ride you till you pass out,” she half-whispered.
“Is that a promise?” he said and picked her up by the waist and slung her over his shoulder.
His hands kept playing with her ass cheeks and pussy all the way back to her bedchamber. There he threw her onto her bed so hard she bounced on the mattress, before he crawled into the middle to lie down and put his head on her pillows.
“Get to work, rape slut,” he ordered.
If he kept calling her that she’d cut his tongue out. Or make him eat her pussy till she passed out. Probably the latter. But for now she played along. First she needed to get him hard again. Her mouth would work best for that. She also made sure to put her ass up high for his viewing pleasure.
“How far would you sail to rape me?” she asked as she kissed his fat manhood from balls to tip.
“Fuck…” he groaned as she took him back into her mouth. “Across the Great Ocean for sure.”
She sucked on him for a bit before coming back up to kiss and lick the tip. “Am I the best woman you’ve ever raped?”
“Aye.”
“How many have you raped in your travels?”
He lay there and looked thoughtful for a moment, until she took him back into her mouth and this time pushed him down her throat. Warm, hard, and throbbing with desire.
“Dozens,” he gasped when her lips kissed the hairy roots.
She pulled back up and giggled before planting a passionate kiss on the side of the cock-head. “How many people would you kill for me?” she said in a sultry voice as she kissed the tip before taking him all the way again. She loved how heavy his breathing was now.
“As many as I can. I’d slaughter every man in this city for you.”
She let his cock pulsate inside her throat for a moment before she pulled back and grinned at him. No need to suck anymore. He was hard enough to ride now.
“You’d kill Kharzeth for me?” she asked as she straddled him and guided his cock into her pussy.
“Aye,” he groaned as she began to slowly and sensually move her hips.
She placed her hands on his chest and leaned in over him. “You’d kill Velkyssa for me?”
“I prefer putting pretty women in chains.”
“You want to rape her?” A spike of jealousy leaked through her voice.
“If I had a choice between you and her? Never.” He reached up to fondle her plump breasts. “She’s too thin. You’re my preferred rape slut.”
She let out a little gasp. “And Xilthara?”
“What divine slut did I ravage through the house?”
She chuckled. “Me,” she said proudly.
He played with her nipples again, drawing a moan out of her. This time she decided against trying to hold back her moans. He needed to learn how to please her and she let her moans guide him in how well he did when he played with her breasts.
By Atharti, that brute was a fast learner.
When he put a finger on her clitoris he really made her sing. He seemed to quite enjoy it. Good. She didn’t want a man that did not wish to please her. She took her orgasms from him. Once. Twice. Thrice. She stopped counting and rode him until he grabbed her hips and pulled her down so he could fill her womb with his seed again.
In the afterglow of their multi-round sex session, she lay atop his hairy and muscular chest while Skari held her in his arms. His wilting cock was still inside her. It sat as a nice plug that kept his seed from leaking out and staining the sheets.
The man was so large she could easily lie atop him without touching the bed. His belly had started to become soft, which made it comfortable to lie upon, even if she didn’t really like the aesthetic of it. If he began to grow fat in other places she’d definitely put him on a diet. Or just work him harder. Making him do pushups with her sitting on him sounded fun. His strong arms felt nice as they held her.
She didn’t quite like his lower bush though and would probably give it a trim later. The rest of his body hair was fine. He was rather average for a human and the hairs on his chest were soft enough that they gave a nice texture as she dragged her finger over his tattoos. She hadn’t liked the beard at first – too dwarvish – but it allowed him to look down without her having to see an ugly creasing of the neck. His golden hair gave a slight Asur impression, which – since he was her slave – she strangely liked.
His face wasn’t bad to look at either. Though she’d never admit that to anyone.
“I hate you,” she murmured. And she meant it. She hated how he made her feel. She hated how she relied on him. She hated how fucking him had felt like a bloody feast after weeks of starvation in a cage.
“Hmm,” he hummed back.
She traced her index finger along the runic tattoos on his chest and shoulders. “Do these tattoos mean anything?”
“Hmm,” he mumbled. “They’re wards. Against daemonic possession, bad luck, and useless mutations.”
She poked one of his blue eye tattoos. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t have these eye tattoos when I bought you.”
He didn’t say anything.
“What about the serpent one? It looked unfinished.”
It took a few seconds for him to reply. “I’d rather not talk about that one.”
“Why not?”
No answer.
“You’re still going to have to breed,” she said after a moment of silence.
His hands grabbed her throat so fast and hard she gasped. “Why?” he growled.
Her heart began to beat faster. She gave him a wicked grin. “Because Dark Lady Xilthara isn’t a woman you cross. You should have said something before she offered me a price. Also, you ruined my dress.”
His grip tightened. It became harder to breathe. Yet she couldn’t stop smiling at him. She could see the whirlwind of hate, lust, and longing in his eyes. All he needed was a little nudge. So she began to grind her crotch against his.
“I’m spent,” he said with a sigh and eased his grip.
“For now. We’ll see how soft you are after dinner. And… I’ll let you sit with me today. No more stale scraps.”
He gave her a skeptical look.
She continued to smile before climbing off him and out of bed, making sure to give him a seductive eyeful of her swaying rear as she walked over to her wardrobe to see which of her skimpier dresses would work best.
“Now get dressed,” she ordered before taking a handkerchief and wiping the semen leaking out of her pussy.
He grumbled for a second, but then got out of bed and did as told. Despite it being the smallest command, getting him to obey after what had recently transpired felt like a victory as sweet as the sex had been.
***
In the dining hall, Syrathene placed Skari on her immediate right at the table – a seat usually reserved for the most honored and closest ally of the host. If this got out, the scandal would be monumental. But if it would allow her to keep him close and under her control, it was a risk worth taking.
The food was served in the usual way. Only now Syrathene had to use a human servant to check for poison, which required reminding the stupid girl what steps to take. Skari’s table manners were the worst. It was clear he was trying to mimic Syrathene, but his back never remained straight and he occasionally picked something up to eat with his hand instead of a fork.
“I never got a chance to mention this before,” he said with a bit of food in his mouth. At least he swallowed before continuing. “I overheard some things at the banquet.”
“Hmm?” Syrathene gave him a cold side glance as she didn’t expect more than secondhand rumors.
To her surprise his information wasn’t secondhand at all. But it was fragmented and incomplete. Not many names but a lot of descriptors of outfits and crests. This man was having an affair. That woman was bragging about an assassination that looked like an accident. This house was fishing for financial support. That house was moving their business.
Maybe she should leave him alone at social gatherings more often.
Syrathene immediately recognized a few highborn just from his descriptions. Together they began to combine the pieces – figuring out who said what and about whom. For a moment she could forget he was some foreign beast and almost think of him as a Druchii. An awfully hairy one.
“Maybe we should write this down?” he said. “I don’t think either of us will remember all the details.”
“Hmm,” she mumbled with grudging approval before calling for a servant to bring papers, pen, and ink. Writing during dinner was so crass for a woman of her standing. She really missed Sylfi.
As if noticing her exasperation, he said, “Want me to write?”
“You’re… literate? Can you write in Druhir?”
“Yes,” he said casually.
“Very well.” She gave him a content smile, happy to have him do the chore.
They recounted and structured their findings. After a couple of pages, Syrathene looked over at his work to discover that he wasn’t writing in Druhir at all, but instead some primitive language with crude letters full of straight lines.
“What is this?” she asked and looked closer at the papers. It wasn’t Reikspiel.
“Norse,” Skari said with a mischievous smile.
“Write it in Druhir,” she ordered.
“No. Better this way. Then no one else can read it.”
She had to hold back an urge to threaten to not only kick him from the table but also cut his balls off. Once her anger had been suppressed, she realized he may have a point. But he had still disobeyed a direct order. Worse still, he now held the key to this information. She’d have to figure out a punishment later – one that didn’t undo the rapport she was trying to foster.
“Very well,” she snapped. “Continue.”
His smile grew wider. Maybe she should punish him by withholding sex. Though she doubted that would work. Either he’d force himself on her or – worse – not care. At least he continued to dutifully scribble down every bit of information he had, along with the pieces Syrathene could provide to fill in the gaps.
Maybe she should buy him a proper journal. Could be useful to have him as an aide now that Sylfi was gone.
Once the notes were done, he began to ask questions – about the nobles, their houses, their business, estates, and more. At first she found his questions grating. He was like an ignorant child. But oddly insightful at times. Slowly she began to warm to his thirst for knowledge. From his questions, ideas began to emerge. Ideas that could be bounced back and forth. He poked holes in hers and she shredded his. But from the scraps, schemes began to take shape. Incomplete, but not that outright foolish. Some even with a spark of brilliance.
When Syrathene looked out the window, it was many hours into the night. The food was cold.
She glanced at him with a newfound acknowledgement. Perhaps he wasn’t so much a beast, despite his appearances. Not quite Druchii, but closer to that than a beast.
Her heart began to race. She hated what she was about to say. He was her slave. But a slave she could not force to obey.
“Do you want to come to bed with me?” she asked.
For a moment he only stared at her in disbelief. She immediately regretted her question. Then he smiled.
“Yes.”