[b][u][center]Perks of Desperation Part 6 for a-lycotonum by Draconicon[/center][/u][/b] Piers wanted to call it a patrol, but he couldn't lie to himself. Not to that extent. If there was a name for what he was doing, it was something like the drunkard's walk, a mindless wandering to find something, anything, to get rid of the ache inside. As he made his way back towards the center of Westcrown, he knew that there were eyes on him, that the locals watched the one-armed man with curiosity, sympathy...disdain. Mostly disdain. He was a cripple, in their eyes, a drain on society, and thus someone that should have someone responsible looking after him. The very idea was enough to have him clenching his fist in momentary rage, but - [i]The mission. The mission.[/i] Commander Piers Adair was a lawful man, and would not risk those that he had responsibility for...even the ones that he no longer loved or cared for the way that a man should. He walked on as the citizens of the city looked down their noses at him, making his way past the outskirts and back to the busy cobblestone streets of the city center. The port air, salty and foul by turns, blew over the town and mixed with the fading aromas of eateries and the public square, and he mingled with those doing their last-minute shopping and those trying to wrangle a few last coins out of the public. It was a way to put the other place out of his head, and the past, but not for long. He found himself thinking of Absalom, making comparisons between his old home and this place, and... And this place was coming out more favorable, to his shame. He'd just noticed a thief trying their luck by stealing from one of the stalls when the proprietor wasn't looking, questioning whether he would be able to do anything about it and making the decision that he should at least try, when three black-armored knights showed up. His hand froze in the process of reaching for his dagger, held in place just a few inches from the handle, and so did everyone else. Every prospective buyer in the market, every shopkeep, and the thief themself froze in place as the black-armored knights stepped through the crowd. They were intimidating, even to him. Each one wore a black-enamel mask with horns that jutted out through the back of it, and their armor was a thick plate that should have cooked them where they stood in the desert heat that poured in from Cheliax proper. Long capes of dried-blood-red hung from their shoulders, and each carried a spear in hand and a blade at their waist. One of them stepped forward, shaggy hair running down their shoulders, and grabbed the thief by the wrist. The human gasped, and - CRACK! Then screamed. As the human dangled from his broken wrist, the knight turned, holding the criminal off the ground, leaving him to dangle by his broken bones. "A thief of the market loses the use of their hand. Remember the might of the law, and the consequences of breaking it." It was a feminine voice, he was surprised to hear. He cocked his head to the side as the black knight threw the thief away, the criminal hitting the cobblestones and rolling off. Not once had anyone in Absalom had the chance to make a display like that, and he had to admit, it would have been helpful if they could. Having the right to publicly punish the prisoners when they committed a crime, rather than having to go through the courts, would have made his Watch much more effective. They certainly would have had a great deal more respect from the people of the city for what they did if they'd been allowed to take it that far. The knights glanced around for a moment, and two of the three continued their patrol. The leader, the one that had thrown the thief away, turned to him. He saw something red through the eyeholes of the mask the knight wore, and then realized that he'd been singled out. Knowing that there was no point in running, he slowly pulled his hand away from his belt, letting it rest against his side. The knight approached, looking down at him - she was taller than he expected, perhaps a full eight inches taller than him - and she had broader shoulders than he did. "You're not from here," she said. "No." "And you have a weapon." "Registered," he said. "Papers?" Piers hid a smile. He imagined that the other members of the group - perhaps not the fur-legged one, but the others - would have been in trouble in such a situation. They doubtlessly had thrown their papers into a pile in the Cinna manor and forgotten about them. Not him. He was an official, and he knew the rules. He pulled the receipts and the paperwork from the custom office from his belt, offering them to the knight. She skimmed them - all five sheets of parchment - and then handed them back. "Mr. Adair, registered bodyguard." She nodded. "And something more. You were ready to act?" "If you meant with the thief, I was considering it." "Only considering?" "...I was about to take action," he admitted. "But my arm -" "As a law-abiding citizen, you were ready to uphold the law." "That's correct." "Then you are due a small reward. Come with me." He didn't know what had happened, but he felt like there was something to be gained. If nothing else, it meant that he was being favored by the local law enforcement, and that could only be good for keeping his obligations. They would be able to keep cover better that way. He followed the black knight through the streets. She led him to what might have been called a tavern, if it was more lowly. As it stood, the business was in a stone structure, standing out from the rest of the clay-based buildings around it, and it was more opulent than he expected. It had a balcony that oversaw the nicer side of the port, and inside were tables made of polished wood and chairs that had pillows and cushions on them. The knight gestured for him to take a seat, and as he did, she did the same. A servant garbed in red silks came to take their order, and the knight called for two glasses of wine that he recognized the vintage of. As the servant hurried off to get them, he cocked his head to the side. "Drinking while on duty?" he asked. "My shift has finished, but these are less potent wines. Particularly for me." "..." "You can't tell?" she asked. "Tell what?" The mask shifted as if she were smiling beneath it. The knight reached to the clasp behind her head, pushing something, and the straps that held it to her face shifted, coming apart. She tugged the mask free, and his eyes widened. She was a tiefling, and a much bigger than usual one, for that matter. The horns that he'd assumed were part of the mask were her own, and her hair was thick and heavy, not the soft, elegant locks that he was used to seeing on a woman. Her shoulders were so broad, and that was not part of the armor, but rather part of her musculature, from what he could see through the gaps in the plate. As she smiled, she showed two fangs from both the top and bottom of her mouth, though neither were so obvious and pronounced as orc tusks. "It takes more than a glass of wine to break my judgment," she said. "You, Mr. Adair?" "I've had...experience. I kept sober while on-duty, however." "The same. One can't ignore their obligations to their duty." "Never." "Even if there are some that think they can." The servant girl returned with two crystal goblets, both of them filled to the upper lip with a wine so red that it looked almost black. He half-expected it to smell of vinegar rather than fruit, but it was no different to the bright vintages of his home city. He shook his head as he cupped it in his one hand, trying in vain to ignore the feeling of lack and loss that came with the knowledge that he could either appreciate the gift and leave himself defenseless, or ignore it - very rudely - and give himself options in how to respond. He tried to focus on being civil, but... "You're wondering why I've brought you here," the tiefling said. "...Yes. I am." "It's not an interrogation, if you were wondering." "I was." "Smart. But you have your papers, and the Hellknights do not bother those that aren't breaking the law." Hellknights. He would have stiffened up if it wouldn't have been so obvious. They heard stories of those monsters back in Absalom. They were creatures of pain and terror, absolute devils that roamed the streets and took down anything that stood in the way of the wants of the rich and powerful. It didn't matter who you were; if the Hellknights wanted something that you had, then they would take it. There was no getting around it. And yet, this one had stood up and taken down a thief, restoring law rather than breaking it. He cocked his head to the side. "A...Hellknight?" "Hmm. You've heard the rumors, then?" "I've heard a lot of things." "We are soldiers of law. We punish those that break it." "Very harshly." "A harsh punishment ensures that they remember it. A weak punishment is just a cheap price to pay to get what you want." "...That's one way to look at it." "It's the right way. That thief won't be stealing again, and every time that he looks at the carts and shops, he'll feel the pain of his broken wrist reminding him what happens if he tries. The Hellknights are always there." Piers thought of his own city and the Watch, and he remembered how his attempts to bring law and order to the streets of the city had always been challenged by the courts. He had managed to clear a great deal of crime from the side streets with raids and arrests, bringing the criminals that brought contraband to the city to the courts, and even keeping them off the streets by holding them in prison. It was an exercise in judicial authority, something that he had every right to do at the time, and which he had found worked very quickly. Once the supply was off the streets, the customers started outing themselves, and they could be helped. But then someone started talking about the emotional side of things, of the 'fairness' of it, and how they were being trapped and caged like animals. It was hardly the truth, but the courts started considering things outside the law, and started using their discretion to state what was and was not allowed to be done. Piers had obeyed - it was part of the law, after all - but it had been a reminder of just how out of touch some people were...and how what 'felt' right didn't necessarily equate to what was right. The law had stated he had the power to do that, and the powerful courts had then decided that they needed something else. And crime had been on the rise again when Brundir had made his move. The decision of the courts had not lined up to reality. He shook his head. "I can see your point. It...works, sometimes." "The law gives us permission, and our acts benefit the rule of law," the tiefling said. "Mr. Adair. From what I saw in the square, you were ready to step forward to uphold the law yourself. Is that correct?" "...It's not incorrect." "What would you have done, if my squad hadn't shown up?" "...I feel like answering that would get me in trouble with your laws," Piers admitted. "Do you know our laws?" "I know the basics that are in most places. Fighting, assault, and more is not always appreciated in defense of the law." "You would have been protected under ours." "...I would?" Piers asked, arching an eyebrow. "A man that commits a crime forfeits his right to the protection of the laws. If a man is found in the commission of the crime, then any and all methods may be used to stop him from committing it." "...I see." That was...harsh, but he almost approved of it. The power of the law would be in the hands of more individuals, and that, in his mind, could only be a good thing. The right of the low to fight those on high would have been expanded, allowing some lowly peasant to fight off a noble if the noble was in the middle of something illegal. Instead, as it stood in many places, the law favored the nobility, allowing them all but immunity in such cases. The more that he heard, the more wounded he felt. It seemed that the law had shifted far further than he thought if a place like Infernal Cheliax had a better understanding of what the law was supposed to do than Absalom itself. He rubbed his forehead. "Then perhaps I would have been in the clear." "What would you have done, Mr. Adair?" the tiefling asked, crossing one leg over the other with a clink and a clank. "I would have attempted to stop him. A threat, at least." "Just a threat?" "I am...damaged," he said, though it took greater effort than he wanted to admit to get the word past his lips. He lifted what little remained of a stump on his side. "I doubt that the threat could have been taken seriously, but it would have at least gathered attention, and that would have dealt with him. Or at least chased him off." "That is pathetic." Piers narrowed his eyes, but the tiefling only smiled. And not cruelly, either. She tipped her glass back, taking a small sip of it before putting it back on the table. "You were something of a warrior. It's in your stance. You know how to fight. The loss of one weapon doesn't mean that you've forgotten everything." "I've lost my sword-arm." "Then learn to use the other." "It's not - you say that like it's simple." "You say it like it's not." "..." "The law gives equal power to all. But it doesn't stay that way unless everyone uses that power under the law. If someone loses the will to exert the power of the law, then the law begins to shift. And if you're too much of a coward, too pathetic to stand against something that would break the law, then that means that you've lost your power under the law. So tell me, Mr. Adair. What would you have done with the thief? What would you have really done?" Piers looked at his one good hand as he remembered the feeling he'd had when he saw the thief in the market. He remembered how it felt to see someone breaking the law, and the strange sense of obligation and, yet, feeling of freedom that he'd felt upon remembering that they weren't in Absalom anymore. They were somewhere else, somewhere with different laws, somewhere that didn't hold someone back. He remembered that, even before the Hellknights had shown up, he knew that something had to be done. As he clenched his fist, he whispered. "I would have done more than you did." "What would you have done?" "I would have taken my knife and stabbed him through the shoulder." "An arm for the crime, rather than a wrist." "...Yes," Piers muttered. "Good." "...Good?" he asked, looking up. "I saw something in your eyes. I'm glad that I was right." She pushed her wine glass to the side. "There are few enough people that come to Cheliax with an understanding of law, and fewer still that want to come here to uphold it rather than merely play the system. I think that we can find a use for you, if you want it." "...Are you saying -" "The Hellknights are always looking for recruits. And my order has many magicians under its banner. They have ways of restoring things that clerics won't touch." His breath caught in his throat. Of all the things that he'd expected in Cheliax, a job offer was certainly not one of them. They were servants of Hell, he reminded himself, bound to the very demons and foul powers that he was supposed to be set against. They were no better than Brundir, and that Aasimar had done so much to break the foundations of law and order in Absalom that the idea should have been completely untenable. And yet... Yet, here he was. Here he was, thinking about it. He clenched his fist, shaking his head. "No. I'm...I've just arrived," he said, coming up with the first lie that felt like it would make any sense. "I used to be a Guardsman -" Another lie. He'd been a Commander of the Watch. Why was he lying? Why would this fit with anything? Why was he protecting them? "But I don't know if this is what I want to do with the rest of my life." "That is understandable." The tiefling nodded. "At the very least, I can say I made the offer." "And it's...appreciated," he admitted. "It's only given to those that understand the power of the law. Now." She smiled. "I am off-duty, and I am at liberty for a few days. Perhaps it's the wine, but I think you could be a good time." "...Pardon?" "At least, if you look as good out of your clothes as in them." "...[i]Pardon?[/i]" "Unless you have something keeping you from a tumble with a Hellknight?" A job offer, and now the offer of sex. Piers wondered if he had done something to offend someone for the temptations that were being thrown in his lap, and he wondered if something had happened to him when he lost his arm that made him even consider being faithless. [i]You were cheated on first...[/i] The thought of his wife, of her were-rat, faithless, cheating self ran through his head. The brief memory of the time when he had watched Vitus fuck her - rut her - and the shameful things that he had done at that point hit him hard, and he pushed them out of his head. [i]I did not want that.[/i] He was lying to himself. What did that say about a former Commander of the Watch? It said that he had found how far he had fallen, and he would not fall that far again. And he had things to prove, and debts that were owed to him. He looked at his glass, then drained it. The sweetness of the wine was matched only by the burn that followed when the glass was empty. "I think we could find out." "I'm glad you see it my way, Mr. Adair. After all...it's not wise to refuse the offers of a Hellknight." "Where are we doing this?" "Just upstairs." It was a short walk up the stairs, and they turned to the first room on the left. No windows, no fancy decorations on the walls. All the money for the establishment had gone into the furniture on the first floor, apparently, with everything on the second being devoted entirely to the privacy and focus of the patrons. There was a bed, barely big enough for two people, and he imagined that this place was rarely used for actual sleep. He refused her offer of help getting undressed, struggling out of his silk shirt and throwing it to the side. The tiefling nodded approvingly at him, and began undressing herself. By the time that he'd gotten his boots off, leaving him in just his pants, she'd gotten her breastplate and padding off, and he realized that he was going to be treated to something that wouldn't be easily forgotten. Her muscles were far more obvious in the nude, and he knew that she could shatter him if she so chose. There was no way around that, and he honestly wasn't bothered. If anything, he surprised himself by wanting to be closer, to feel her hard body against him. But it was the sheer size of her that made him more interested than anything else. Not just her height, but her heft, her breadth. She was a woman that was built like a beast, and had the fur of one along her shoulders and down her back, but she had the curves of a woman. A true woman, flesh and blood, rather than bestial. She didn't have the deep claws that Robin had now, and her fangs were kept curled and controlled, not pushing past her lips in brutal display the way the were-rat did. And as he looked further down at her breasts, he could see that they were pushed forward and displayed just as much as the rest of her. No shame, and why not? They were large, but on someone her size, that largeness seemed proportional rather than too much, thick and full with nipples hard enough to catch the eye and make one stare. They were oddly light against her dark skin, and she smiled. She must have seen him staring, because she stepped forward. "Mr. Adair. Are you married?" "..." "It doesn't matter if you are. The laws of Cheliax allows for extramarital relationships. But are you?" "...Yes." "Does it matter to you?" "Not right now." "Then let's not waste the moment." She snapped her fingers. The Hellknights must have had a pact similar to those of paladins, because her armor disappeared into smoke at the sound. She was naked, hard and corded with muscle from head to toe, and she pushed him back towards the bed. He grunted as he hit it, and didn't fight as she pulled his pants down. They hit the floor, and his cock was rising up already. Whatever shame that he might have felt for his easy arousal for the hellish female before him disappeared as she took him into her mouth. No, took his cock into the coils of her tongue. "Ah!" He gasped as she wrapped the long thing further and further around his shaft, pulling it into her mouth as she did. There was no hesitation, no look like she was doing him a favor. If anything, she seemed to take pleasure in his taste, pulling his cock in and then sucking - sucking hard. He arched his back, his toes curling, his one hand gripping the sheets tightly as he bit back the urge to get off right then and there. There was something so potent about her mouth, something so tempting that made it hard for him to think. She kept sucking, her tongue wrapping tighter and tighter around his shaft. Every time that it squeezed a little more, his eyes rolled back in their sockets, and his balls jumped up between his legs. That tongue gave him a handjob and a blowjob at the same time, wrapping around his cock from the base all the way to just under the head, and as she pushed down along his cock - "NNNGH!" There it was, a casual deepthroat that was done just as easily as she'd broken that thief's wrist. His cock was so easy for her, so simple. And yet, she was giving him everything that he could have wanted. He didn't have to take it. It was his, an entitlement, a gift from her. He panted for breath as she bobbed back and forth, up and down, brushing her lips and her fangs against his cock, channeling it further and further down her throat. The sheer bliss of that simple bit of oral was so intense that he was on the verge of cumming right then and there. But he didn't. Not yet. He held back for as long as he could, and to his shame, he thought of Robin to keep his orgasm from taking him. He thought of her filthy rat self. He thought of her with Vitus. He thought of her being weak, useless, unable to hold her own and unable to stave off her own corruption. No self-control, nothing. Whereas with this woman... He didn't even know her name, he realized. The tiefling knight was sucking his cock, giving him the best blowjob of his life, and he didn't even know her name. But as she sucked him to the base, as her throat rolled around the tip, he couldn't think of any reason why that mattered. All that he had to do was hold out for as long as he could, and then...then he would return the favor. He gave himself credit for lasting two minutes under that oral assault, and by the end of it, he was shining with sweat. With one last moan, he thrust his hips up, grinding his balls against her chin as he came, and collapsed. She swallowed it all, dragging her tongue around his shaft like a snake along a perch, and he was just barely aware of her swaying tail behind her. It was another reminder that he hadn't lain with a human, but...but she was close enough. Closer than his wife. She slowly pulled back, her mouth slightly white with his seed before she swallowed the last of it. She smiled past his shaft, squeezing it at the base between two fingers. "That should help you last longer with the next round." "Mmmph...next round?" "It is not law, but be honest. You would not leave someone like me hanging after that?" "...No, I would not." "Good." She pulled herself the rest of the way onto the bed, her bigger, thicker body gracing his eyes with quite the show. She knelt over him, straddling him, and he had a beautiful view of her thick thighs, of the muscles running up and down her legs, and the way that her entire body was sculpted as if from stone. She rolled her head around her neck, and he had a chance to see that her long hair ran in shaggy lengths along her shoulders and down her back. At places, it almost seemed like fur, but he could fool himself into thinking that it was something else easily enough. As she loomed over him, he had the greatest of urges to just compliment her, worship her, tell her how amazing she was. It was almost overwhelming, and only the reminder that he still had something to go back to, a mission that he had to complete, kept him from completely giving in. He had a home that would require saving, and devoting himself to this tiefling - this Hellknight, he reminded himself - was as dangerous as throwing himself into the streets and calling out his name for the bounty hunters. Putting the temptation to the side, at least for the moment, he slowly looked up at her face. Her red-tinted eyes met his. "You have a question?" "I...would like to know your name." "Salvus. Onoria Salvus," she said. "Or Knight Salvus, if I'm on-duty." "Knight? Not -" "We have no differentiation. Whether you are female or male, you are a Knight." "..." "Now, Mr. Adair...You have a task before you." "How shall I repay your favor?" "The same as I have." And as the tiefling slid up his body, as she moved to face away from him with her sex right over his face, drooling over his cheeks and forehead, he found himself wondering if there was anything that could be better than this fairest of exchanges. He found himself utterly charmed by her personality, and despite his marriage vows, he reached up for her hips with more eagerness than he ever had for Robin. She sat on him, and he feasted. # Vitus dragged himself from the third round with the Cinnas, glad that he had at least managed to stay on top for the duration of that. Marco was on his back, panting softly, his hole oozing with hellhound seed, while Pollius... "Mmmmm, now that is certainly...mmm, that adds a certain [i]spice,[/i]" the ooze of a man said. He tried not to listen. There was something creepily over-sensual in the way that Pollius just seemed to savor every last thing that they did. Oh, yes, he was aware of the pleasure of rutting, of taking what he wanted, of indulging in things that were more bestial and more corrupt, but he had never, [i]ever[/i] met someone that got so deeply involved with it as the ooze. He just seemed to study it, indulging in it, wallowing in it like a glutton, and yet with all the serious interest of the most devoted scholar. It was such a strange combination that it left him chilled. But the magic of the hellhound and Melchiresa's demonic connection to the pack seemed to have done something. Even as the ooze stretched, pulling his arms upward and forming legs, they seemed more solid than they had in the past, and certainly more connected to him. He seemed to reach and act with greater certainty, and his skin didn't look so wet or strained. It looked... Well, not firm, but certainly more together, less about to break apart. Shaking his head, Vitus slid to the edge of the bed. "Mmm, something wrong, my pretty friend?" Pollius asked. "I'm just...thinking." "Thinking of many things, I'm sure. Of our next bit of fun, perhaps? Oh, no, no, that's not where your mind is at all...ah, about unspoken questions?" "...Yes," Vitus admitted. "About a chance remark of mine earlier, perhaps?" Yes, unfortunately. Vitus turned slowly, looking back at the ooze. Pollius had formed himself into something akin to a minotaur, though with more human legs rather than hooves, and with a horse-sized and horse-shaped shaft between his legs. He seemed to almost enjoy making the hellhound uncomfortable with the show, chuckling and touching himself. "Yes, I wondered...You did look like the Leontinas before, and now that I've had the chance to see you up close, properly, I say it again. You must be related." "How do you know them?" Vitus asked. "Mmmm, not so much know them. More 'of' them." The horse-man chuckled, flicking one hoof-nailed finger to his cheeks. "But you have the face. The cheekbones and jawline, in particular. Narrow and sharp, like something just [i]itching[/i] to break free." "My family -" "Oh, I don't know if your mother and father were quite that way, but the rest of them were. Right up to the point when they all disappeared from their manor a few hours inland." "...Manor?" "Yeeeees. The Leontina Manor. Ancient grounds and all that. And of course, I could furnish you the way to get there...for a fourth round." Vitus growled, only for the ooze to change again. No longer horse, but something feathered. He had half a second to register the feathers popping out of the other man's shoulders before talons seized his shaft, squeezing just behind the shrinking knot and forcing it hard again. "Ah!" "Don't growl at me, little dog...we both know what you need...and you know my price." "..." "So, shall I have your lips around my talons...or shall I keep my knowledge to myself?" Barely holding back another growl, he took the shifting talons of the other man in his hands and lifted them to his lips. Pollius smiled. "Good boy..." [b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b] Summary: Piers encounters the Hellknights of Westcrown, and finds the attention of one of their number directed at him. Elsewhere, Vitus talks more with Pollius. Tags: M/M, M/F, Femdom, Oral, Coiling Tongue, Blowjob, Orgasm, Cum, Amputee, Height Difference, Tiefling, Human, Hellhound, Shapeshifter, Talons, Foot Fetish, Cheating, Series, Magic,