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Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 01

By: schnertch



Lona Harrity was the most beautiful woman in all of Lowvale. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Ala Hiu had larger breasts, and Coli Harrity, Lona's sister, had a backside that gathered a small following whenever she took a walk, but each of them had their hearts set on soldiers in the guard, and they wouldn't let anyone get near them. But Lona would. 

Because everything was a monetary transaction with Lona.

Which is why, when Pol Burr buried himself between her lower folds she, despite gasping in delight at how his size filled her, pulled away and stood up from where he'd bent her over the bed, and said, "Pol, you didn't pay enough for down below."

Pol groaned as the velvet glove of her pussy slid off his cock. He admired her naked body as she walked away from him.

"Madam Xava upped the rate again."

"Madam Xava has a special rate for thieves," said Lona. She pulled a drawer open from the bedside table and took out a bottle of oil. 

"I'm not a thief," said Pol as he watched Lona unstop the bottle. 

Lona smiled at him. Pol was not the most imposing man--he had a pale complexion and the type of physique best suited to scaling drainpipes and scrambling through windows--but he was in better shape than most of the men who paid for to poke Lona, and he certainly never just commenced to pounding away at her like so many did. That and his easy smile made the young thief a favored client of hers.

"Lie down," she said and giggled at the eager speed with which he complied.

Lona climbed up after him. She stroked his straw-brown hair, then made sure to rub her breasts against him as she retreated along his body to his crotch.

She drizzled a bit of oil along Pol's shaft, and used one hand to gently rub it in. Pol hissed in appreciation at how warm and smooth he became in her hands. His cock twitched slightly in anticipation as she ducked her head, but at the last second she kissed just down his thigh instead.

"Not a thief, are you?" she asked, stoppering the bottle again and placing it on the bed. She took her hands and rubbed them on his body around his cock which reached most of the way up to his navel. 

"No, no - Vash damn it, girl - I'm a purveyor of goods," said Pol. He tried to reach a hand around to encourage Lona along, but she pinned his wrist against the bed and licked up his thigh, stopping just shy of his balls. 

"Difficult to obtain goods," he clarified.

"Mmmhmm," murmured Lona. She rose up until her chin was hovering just over him, and her free hand resting at the place where his abdomen met his thigh. 

"The type of goods you generally find in locked boxes," explained Pol. Lona's mouth was just over his cock and the warmth of her breath made the hairs on his arm stand on edge. Her tongue snaked out and, just for a moment, he felt its warm presence make the slightest contact with him, but Lona just grinned at him instead of continuing. 

"So...not a thief?" she asked.

Pol gazed into her big brown eyes and, for a moment, he hesitated. He wasn't sure why he was continuing with this game--Lona already knew what he was and where he got his money for her from, but part of him didn't want her to think of him as a scoundrel.

But at the present moment, a much bigger part of him was much more interested in seeing what she'd do when he surrendered.

"Alright, I'm a thief," he said, and gasped as she forced as much of his cock into her mouth as she could manage, her nose just grazing his pubic hair. She gagged a little, and Pol could feel a bit of warm saliva trickling down his balls. Lona held her position for just a moment, then released him, her cheeks burning a delightful shade of pink and a tad starved for air.

"I'm a wonderful thief," said Pol, propping himself up to wipe a strand of her red hair out of her face with a thumb. One hand had remained on his cock, and Lona stroked it up and down as she caught her breath. He cupped her chin, drew her up to him and kissed her. She tasted oily and salty and for all Pol was burning with desire for her, he could have sworn her lips were as hungry for his as his were for hers.

Still, Lona broke it off before he did. 

"You ought to at least get what you paid for," she said, and gave his cock a lick from base to tip. When she reached the top, she sucked the head into her mouth. 

Pol groaned and entwined the fingers of one hand through Lona's hair. She hummed a little, slurping more of him into the warmth of her lips. He wrapped his other hand over the first, and began to thrust his hips, driving himself deeper in with each push. Lona gagged a little, before placing a hand on his stomach to calm him. When he settled, she bobbed up and down along his length, using her hands to attend the part of the shaft left bare when her mouth retreated.

Though Pol had meant to make the coins he had paid Madam Xava last, it didn't take long for Lona to push him to the edge. 

"Oh Vash," he swore. "I'm going to burst, sweet."

Lona let him out of her mouth with a pop. She lay down on her back at the foot of the bed, pulling Pol along by his cock. She stroked him over her chest.

"Show me, Pol. Show me how much you wished you'd paid for me."

Pol came hard. Spurt after spurt of semen rocketed out of him, plastering across Lona's full breasts. A small pool collected in the hollow of her neck. When Lona pulled him back into her mouth, he shuddered and came again a final time. 

"Mmmm," said Lona, letting him go, finally, after he'd stopped quaking. She considered the warm mess he'd made of her. "I see you really did want more coin in your pocket when you came in here." 

"I did indeed, sweet," said Pol. He looked down at his cock, which remained erect. "I still do."

Lona laughed and slid off the bed to her feet, and Pol took a moment to admire his handiwork, as his cum began trickling down her front, weaving its way between her breasts and sliding along her flat belly to the mound of hair above her vulva. She found the spare wet cloth she kept for these situations and began to wipe herself off, caught him lazing about watching and snaked out a foot to kick his breeches at him from the floor where he'd left them immediately upon entering her room. 

"Get dressed and go get that gold then," she said. 

Pol pulled his breeches on, and found his shirt and boots and put those on too, while Lona slipped the thin wool dress she generally wore while working back on over her head. It clung tightly to her body and Pol admired the deep cleavage she displayed in its low cut neck. She began to open the door for him, but Pol stopped her with touch.

"I'm going to get that gold, and then I'm coming right back here," he promised.

"My pussy and I will be waiting eagerly, but we won't hold our breaths," she laughed, opening the door. Then her face softened and she looked up at him. 

"I hope you do, Pol." 

Maybe it was just something she said to keep him coming back, but it was good enough for Pol. He cupped a breast, caught a kiss from her again, the saltiness of his cum still clinging to her mouth, and scampered out the door. 

The tavern below, where Madam Xava plied her trade, was filled with people drinking, laughing, and waiting for rooms to free. It was an interesting mix of folks, with types from the lady-in-waiting from Lowvale Keep, her face flush with excitement, watching two of Xava's young gentlemen wrestling nude in the corner, to old Jot the one-armed veteran, who was using his remaining arm, and the balance of the hazard pay he received in exchange for it, to fondle a maid with a knack for feigning interest.

Madam Xava, a haughty imperious woman, who Pol knew had once kept a room of her own on the second floor, yet believed that success meant pretending you'd never had a past, fixed him with a frown.

"You were in there a long time for such little coin," she observed.

"Don't worry," said Pol, striding past her. "Lona didn't part with any free trade. And I'll be back for the rest of her."

"Make sure you're back with gold, then!" called Xava called after him. "If I catch you climbing through a window at night, I'll nail your tackle to the door."

Pol chuckled to himself as he wandered down the street. As if she could ever catch him.

Lowvale was not a particularly notable town, though it did have a wall and stone structure that on a good day resembled a castle and which had generously been named a keep by its residents. There were a few merchants and a few farmers, and Pol helped himself to an apple from a stall when the boy tending it wasn't looking. It was mealy and a little tasteless, but it was free, which was what mattered at the moment.

The trouble, reflected Pol, was that there was not much opportunity in Lowvale to obtain the gold needed to satiate Madam Xava. 

As if Vash herself had overheard his thoughts, there appeared a knight on a brilliant white stallion sauntering down the road. His armor was engraved with roses and thorns, and a heavy steel mace, tarnished black, rested at his side. But what interested Pol most was the fat purse that clung precariously to his belt. 

Pol looked up and down the street. Broad daylight was not his forte, but he'd started a pickpocket when he was just a boy. Up the street, he saw Doogli and a few of his boys standing around, and he stepped quickly to reach them ahead of the knight with just enough time. 

Doogli was a small man, the rough sort who never had enough coin and when he did, he had a hard time deciding whether he'd spend it on drink or food and tended to opt for drink. 

"Doogli," called Pol. "How'd you like to earn a coin or two?"

"Very much, Pol," said Doogli. "Just so's long as it's not come by with honest work."

"Never you fear," said Pol. He pointed down the street. "Just need you and your lads there to hold that knight up until I give the signal. There'll be a gold coin for each of you if you do."

"How 'bout it boys?" asked Doogli. There was a general agreement that, yes, this seemed an easy enough task with an ample enough reward. 

Pol nodded and crossed to the other side of the road to rest in the crook of a building and watch as Doogli met his knight.

When the man on the stallion reached close to Doogli, one of the little man's grubby hands reached up and seized the reins, drawing the stallion up. 

"This is a nice horse, Sir Knight," said Doogli. "How much would you part with him for?"

The knight looked taken aback, both by the stop and Doogli's offer.

"The horse of Sir Vallan vai Farrow is not for sale," he said, rising in the saddle to pull the reins away from Doogli.

But the little beggar had a firmer grasp than that. 

"Not for sale, he says," he told his boys. There was a bit of hurried whispering and conferring among the group and finally Doogli turned back to him. Pol lifted himself off his wall and began to stroll down the street in the opposite direction of the knight had been heading, as though he were merely an interested passerby. 

"We'll give you eight pennies for him," said Doogli.

If Sir Vallan had been taken aback before, he was forcibly transported to the dumbfounded ignorance of a newborn by this statement.

"This horse is worth at least 200 gold dragons," he sputtered. Pol brushed through the small crowd and moved further down the horse towards his prize.

"Okay, okay," said Doogli. "How about this, then? We'll give you eight pennies now, then 200 dragons when we've sold him. I know a fella who'll buy him for twice that without asking too many questions, and he'll pay cash, not a writ of promise like some of those Tia Joi horsetraders I've met."

Pol slipped a knife out and sliced the purse free from the knight's belt. One hand kept it from making too much noise as he freed it and he tucked it close to his body and continued on down the street.

"He's not for sale!" exclaimed Sir Vallan, finally freeing the reins from Doogli's hands. 

"Hey, Sir Knight! He's made off with your purse!" cried out a stall merchant, pointing at Pol. Sir Vallan grasped at his belt, then wheeled around, pulling his mace to the ready as he did so. 

Pol broke into a run, cursing the merchant. He glanced over his shoulder. Doogli made another play for the reins, but Sir Vallan swung his mace out and cracked Doogli over the head. The little beggar crumpled and his friends rushed to his side. Sir Vallan dug his spurs into his stallion's flanks and tore off after Pol. 

The main street had been the wrong one to try this on, it occurred to Pol. Normally, he'd slip out a window and across the roofs to make his getaway. But you couldn't do that cutting purses. Now he was attempting to outrun a warhorse on open ground, the canyon of the buildings providing no clear exit. 

Pol spied a gap between two houses and dashed through. It was a tight fit and he scraped up against the wood and plaster. He could hear Sir Vallan cursing behind him, and then the sound of the hooves moving away. The purse snagged on a splinter, and Pol swore to hell and back again when it tore open, spilling the gold in the mud. He burst out onto the next street, leaking coins. 

The North Gate wasn't far from where he stood, but he didn't intend to leave Lowvale. However, he spied a knight in green armor on foot leading a strong black mare through the gate, and Pol saw a chance for something. 

"Help me," he screamed at the green knight, whose lowered visor was molded into the shape of a griffin, as Sir Vallan rounded the corner. "This man's killed my friend and he's after me next!"

The green knight looked at Sir Vallan charging down the street, and considered Pol for a moment. He thrust the mare's reins into Pol's hands. 

"Hold these," he said, his voice tinny and a bit high through the armor, which Pol saw was not lacquered steel or tarnished bronze, but rather appeared a true green. The knight stepped into the middle of the road and drew his sword.

Sir Vallan drew up.

"Brother Knight," said Sir Vallan. "I am here to dispense justice to that man."

"I'm not your brother," said the Green Knight. "And what sort of justice can be done on a street?"

"He has stolen from me," said Sir Vallan. "A thief deserves to die." 

"He says you killed his friend."

Sir Vallan frowned, and looked at his mace, still dripping Doogli's blood. "I struck his accomplice. I suppose the man might very well be dead."

"Then I will take this man to the castle," said the green knight, gesturing to Lowvale Keep with one gauntleted hand. "And seek the Lord's justice." 

Sir Vallan spat in the mud. "I have no time for a trial," he said. "If this is how you want it, so be it." He wheeled his stallion and raced back up the street.

The green knight was about to put up his sword, but Sir Vallan swung his horse back around and spurred him into a frenzied charge. 

Pol saw the heavy rider bearing down on the dismounted knight, the crushing mace leaning out. If the horse didn't get the green knight, the mace surely would, and one man on foot could not hope to defeat a charging man on horseback. And either way, Pol did not particularly desire to see the inside of Lowvale Keep for the lord's justice. Thieves lost hands in there. He tried to mount the mare, but she turned her head and bit him hard, and he fell.

Sir Vallan had reached the green knight, and was ready for a killing blow, but the knight had a speed that belied the thick plate he wore for armor. He sidestepped the horse, ducked low and slashed at the mace's head, away from the horse. His sword caught the mace and jerked. Sir Vallan went flying out of his saddle, smashing into the green knight and landing brusquely on his side. He'd taken his opponent down with him, though, and both their weapons had gone sliding along the mud of the street. 

Sir Vallan recovered himself first, and snatched his mace up, while the green knight pulled himself onto all fours and rooted around in the mud for his sword. Vallan advanced on him, and raised his weapon to finish the fellow.

"Look out!" screamed Pol, thrusting a hand forward, dropping the purse. He felt a very strange numbing sensation course through his arm and the air around Sir Vallan's mace began to shimmer and twist. There was a dull sucking sound and then Sir Vallan collapsed to the ground, screaming. Everything above the middle of his forearm, his wrist, gauntleted hand, and weapon had disappeared, leaving him with a horrible jagged stump their place. 

Pol stumbled forward a little in dull shock, the purse forgotten in the mud, as people began screaming. He gaped at the wreckage of Sir Vallan, the knight writhing on the street in pain as the blood left him. A cold metal tapped him on the shoulder and he looked up and saw an angel, one of the most beautiful faces he'd ever seen, green eyes on bronze skin with full lips and high cheekbones, wreathed in green ivy, and he knew he must be dead.

"Get up," said the green knight, her visor flipped up. She hauled him to his feet and he realized with a disappointment he was still alive.

"We have to get out of here."

Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 02



NOTE: All the characters who appear in this story are 18 or above.

*****

The sun was nearing set when Pol and his savior finally stopped riding away from Lowvale. For the first hour or so, she'd taken them down the main road, but at the Quick Creek Bridge, she turned her mare off the road and took them up the stream, into the forest, until Quick Creek joined up with the Wort River. Pol had never even been this far outside of Lowvale in his entire life, and when they stopped, he could see no real reason for it, every copse of trees looking the same as every other. 

"That should keep the Guard off your scent for a while, sorcerer," said the green knight, tying her horse to a tree. She undid her armet and her dark black hair came tumbling out of the thing. Her hair was close-cropped on the sides, but grown out long and loose on top, like the precursor to the elaborate vertical constructions Pol had seen worn by warriors of the Dragon Clans in the story books. She began pulling at the straps and buckles holding her armor together.

"Help me with this, then," she commanded. Pol stumbled to his feet and assisted her.

"We'll have to hide it," she said. "We'll keep to the woods, and hopefully we won't be found." She took a blanket and some cord from her saddlebags and tied it and the armor all in a bundle. 

"I'm Pol Burr," said Pol, watching her. She began to pull the padded gambeson she wore under her armor off, and while Pol was not surprised to see she was in tremendous shape, he did note that she'd been given a generous helping of curves. His savior was tall, just a hair shorter than Pol himself, but able to look most men in the eye. He judged she was just a few years older than him, a few years past her mid-twenties. "Thank you for saving me."

The knight smiled at him. "I'm Kiera, Sorcerer Burr. And thank you for saving me."

"I'm not a sorcerer," said Pol.

"Well, I know a man with a missing hand who'd like as not disagree with that," said Kiera. 

"I don't know how that happened," said Pol. Kiera looked at him, judging if he was lying, or joking, or really just a fool.

"Nothing magical like that has ever happened to you before, Pol? No miraculous coincidences, or unexplained luck?"

"Well, I fell out of a five story window and landed in a cart of manure that happened be passing one time," said Pol. "But other than that, no."

Kiera wrinkled her nose at the thought.

"Well, I guess you're just a warlock, then," she said. "I see I've really gotten myself into trouble this time. A warlock thief, then?"

"A warlock?"

"An untrained magical adept. Someone not associated with the Guild of Sorcerers," explained Kiera. "Are you thick?"

Pol had heard the term before, of course. In every story about a heroic knight, he was often pitted against a horrible warlock, who'd taught themselves magic and had some twisted fortress in the woods. He'd just never thought he'd be the villain in the woods.

"You really think I did magic back there?"

Kiera fixed him with a look.

"Well, I can't do magic, and we were the only two there with a grudge against that knight, and it seems silly he'd do that to himself, so..."

Pol was very quiet as he thought about this.

"It'll be dark soon," she observed. "Do you know how to collect firewood, Pol?"

"I can give it a try," he said. 

As it turned out, it was not much of a try, and Kiera discarded half his collection as either too wet or too rotten, then wandered muttering about thieves into the twilight of the forest to find some more. By the time the sun had gone down, she'd used her sword and flint to get a fire going. Dinner was salted beef from her saddlebags, and a couple of carrots for her ill-tempered horse, apparently named Blade. Pol had found a berry bush, but Kiera had warned him away from eating them as they weren't edible. 

"So what did you steal his purse for?" Kiera asked. 

"Who? Sir Vallan?"

"Was that his name? He never gave it."

Pol blushed a little thinking about his red-haired reason. It must have been quite a blush, because Kiera caught his hesitation, even in the dark.

"You don't have to be embarrassed about stealing to eat, Pol."

"It wasn't to eat," said Pol. 

"Oh?"

"There's a girl I know," explained Pol.

"And you wanted to buy her a ring?"

"Er, she's not that kind of girl," said Pol.

"Something nice, then?"

"I guess you could say I wanted to buy her. At least for an hour."

"Oh."

"And her rates keep going up," said Pol.

"I see," said Kiera. She didn't say anything more and another eager awkward silence descended upon them.

"That's some unique armor," Pol offered, after a while. "I've never seen green metal before."

"It's dragon jade," said Kiera. Pol stared at her in shock.

"What, all of it?"

"The whole thing."

Pol gaped. According to the stories, when Vash the Sky Dragon sang the world into being, Kili the Mite, who made his life eating the dead skin between the scales on Vash's underbelly, grew jealous of her powers. Kili's magic was not as strong as Vash's but he threw his own melody into Vash's song, one that was discordant with hers. The earth became sown with dragon jade, a green metal harder than steel and lighter than cloth that negated magic. 

Rings of dragon jade could protect the wearer against any spell, and shields of the stuff had been known to protect the bearer against dragon fire, which, combined with its color, was how it had gotten its name. Among its few weaknesses was that too much magic would cause it to crumble into dust. Pol could not imagine what a whole suit of it could do. With it on, Kiera must be nearly invincible.

"It's a family heirloom," explained Kiera.

"It looked new, though."

Kiera shrugged. She laid out a bedroll and placed her sword nearby, between her and Pol. 

"Dragon jade can be worked like any other metal, provided the forge is hot enough. It belongs to the eldest child in our family. Our smith melts it down and reforges it for each new heir."

She tossed him a blanket and then slipped into her bedroll.

"Goodnight, Pol," said Kiera, settling down.

"Goodnight."

When he awoke, the sun was streaming through the trees, there was nothing but embers left in the fire, Kiera's bedroll was empty and her sword was gone. He started for a moment, expecting to at home in his bed, or possibly in Lona Harrity's bed, but instead his back ached from where he'd failed to clear the stones from underneath the blanket Kiera had loaned him. 

A groggy Pol made his way to the stream for a drink of water. He slurped water out of his hands when a rustle made him look up. 

Kiera was turned away from him, and he admired the muscles in her back as she lifted a simple smock over her head. He caught just the slight hint of the curve of her breasts as they disappeared under the cloth, and her ample buttocks as she climbed into a pair of breeches and fastened her sword belt around her waist. 

She began to turn around and Pol focused his attention back to fetching water out of the stream in a hurry.

Kiera squeezed the extra water out of her hair from the bath she'd just taken and considered the man squatting on the river bank, the back of his neck a deep shade of crimson. 

"I've been thinking, Pol," she said, grinning a little to herself. Worse men than Pol had seen her naked. "If you don't get some proper training, you're liable to hurt someone with your magic."

"I would never hu-" Pol began to protest, but Kiera cut him off as she climbed into a pair of fine brown leather boots that came up to her knees. 

"You already have, Pol," she said. "Anyhow, I was thinking that you should go to Tia Vashil and the Guild of Sorcerers."

"I don't know how to get there from here," said Pol. 

"That's okay, I'll go with you," said Kiera. She sat on the bank and drew her knees up to her chest to rest her chin on, sighing. "I guess it's time I went home, anyhow. I haven't seen my family in a year. They'll be worried."

"We need to get you a horse, too. Blade's a good steed, but she won't make great progress carrying both of us. We'll have to go back out to the road. Do still have the money you stole?"

"No, I dropped it," said Pol. 

"Well, we'll figure something out, I guess."

Kiera stood up. "We'll leave in a few minutes."

"No breakfast?" asked Pol.

There was indeed no breakfast, and while Pol thought he would at least get to enjoy riding behind Kiera, when he'd "accidentally" brushed the comfortable swell of her breasts too many times to maintain its accidental part of its nature, she "accidentally" let a branch swat him in the face, which put a quick end to that exercise. His cock, though, had a mind of its own, swelling against his pants and the curve of her body. There was not much to be helped about that, and it seemed to him that Kiera had extracted an excruciating revenge by gently shifting herself each time he'd begun to relax and soften, but it could've just been the way the horse moved.

When they cleared the forest, they could see a couple of buildings nearby, including a farmhouse and a barn. Kiera trotted Blade closer, but turned her off near the cow pond, making it look like they were a couple of travelers stopping to cool off. She dismounted and began going through her saddlebags.

"What are you doing?" asked Pol.

"Trying to find something of value to trade for a horse," she said. 

Pol chuckled.

"Oh, okay," he said, sliding off Blade. "Say, why don't you stay here for a moment?" 

"Why? What are you going to do?" asked Kiera, but Pol had already begun slinking towards the barn.

The farm seemed pretty deserted. It didn't take much to undo the barn door latch and slip inside. There were a couple of pigs and a milk cow, and two empty stalls, and there, in a corner stall, was a rather fine horse. A saddle hung nearby, and Pol looked about for the bit and harness. 

"Hold it," a female voice said behind him. Pol turned slowly and came face to face with a young woman. She was a full-figured girl, with a firm plumpness, the type who lived on a farm, did all the cooking, and hadn't known lean times in a while. Her golden hair was held back by a handkerchief, and Pol could see that her corset and dress were straining to contain herself. But what concerned him more was that she was aiming a crossbow at him.

"What are you doing by Brady's stall?" she asked. 

"Er, well, I have to borrow him," he said. "Only, I've never saddled a horse before."

"Pa wouldn't like a stranger borrowing without asking. He'd say that was stealing," she said. She looked Pol up and down, pausing for a moment at the bulge in his pants left over from his ride behind Kiera. He got the unmistakable feeling she was undressing him in her mind. He grinned at her. Fair was fair, he supposed. He was doing the same.

"Well, is your Pa here?"

"He took the cart to town."

"Well, I can't ask him, then, can I? What's your name, miss?"

"Why?"

"I'd just like to know who killed me, is all. My name's Pol Burr. I'm from Lowvale," he said. 

His name and his home gave her a little pause. Not as easy to kill a man with a name. 

"Nella Toft," she said. 

"You like living here, Nella?" he asked. 

"It's alright," said Nella. "Mama died a few years ago, and Pa's been a bit of a mess since. He'd be more of one without me. I'm all he's got."

"No brothers? No husband?"

"No."

"Well, I bet a lot of farmboys have been trying to steal you away from him," said Pol. He was rewarded with a smile.

"A few," said Nella. She bit her lip. "You're from Lowvale?"

"Yep."

"A city boy, then."

"Sure," said Pol, smiling at the thought of someone calling Lowvale a city. But he supposed compared to two buildings a day's ride from anywhere, Lowvale might as well have been a city. 

Nella lowered her crossbow, and passed Pol to lean on the edge of Brady's stall.

"He likes apples," she said. 

"Does he? I'm more of a peach man, myself."

Nella fixed him with a suspicious look.

"He's quite pretty," said Pol, drawing closer to her. Her chest was rising and falling a little faster now. "But not the prettiest thing here."

"You city boys are smoother than farmboys," said Nella. She slid up against him. Pol grinned at her again. 

"That's not all we're good at," he said. He reached down and pulled the hem of her dress up above her waist. He paused to see if he'd gone too far. Nella tensed, but didn't cry out. She stepped her legs apart and braced herself against the stall, and Pol smiled. Farmboys cut corners, apparently.

"Oh!" cried Nella, when he dropped to his knees and buried his face in her already moist pussy instead. Pol reached his hands up to spread her lips apart and to find her little clit, hiding under its hood just above where he was working with his tongue. He pulled Nella further back from the stall, causing her to dip forward for a better angle. 

"Oh, hells," said Nella. "I need to move to the city."

Pol hummed a little in response, and was rewarded with another gasp from Nella. He took his hand off her clit, and worked a finger into the warmth of her pussy. Nella moaned, and when he placed another finger in there and buried it down to his last knuckle, she began to move her hips a little in response. Pol met her movements with his own wrist.

It didn't take Nella very long, between the attentions of Pol's mouth and his fingers, to find her way around to cumming. As the warmth poured up over her body, her knees buckled, and she began to sink down. Her finger, still on the trigger of the crossbow, accidentally contracted, launching the bolt into the ground by Pol's knees, causing them both to jump a little and then laugh in giddy excitement. 

Nella turned around and Pol met her for a kiss. As they wrestled with their tongues, she fumbled with his belt and the laces on his breeches while he fumbled with the laces of her dress. Her breasts fell free in the same minute that his cock did. 

Nella pushed his hands away from her chest, and devoured him with a fierce insistence. When she couldn't manage his entire length on the first go, she brought her hands to work the rest of him, bobbing her head in an effort to take him all. After a while, Pol began to pull away from her and she moaned in frustration as he left her mouth, her task uncompleted.

Pol climbed to his feet, dragging Nella to her knees, and she grasped him in one small hand, considering the size and thickness of his erection.

"I've really been missing out living on this farm," she said. "Pa might have to fend for himself, soon."

She licked down his shaft, stroking it with one hand as she reached the bottom, then sucking each of his balls into her mouth in turn. 

It was Pol's turn to moan now, and when he did, Nella giggled with delight and slurped him back between her lips. Pol tucked his hands behind her head and held her in place, thrusting himself deeper into her throat, until she gagged and pulled away. Pol's cock was slick was her saliva, and a fair amount of it had run down her chin and onto her chest, causing her breasts to gleam.

"I need you now, Pol Burr," said Nella. She stood up and undid her handkerchief, letting her long blonde hair cascade down her back. She found a pile of hay, and collapsed backwards on top of it. She undid the laces on her dress and corset to her navel, discarded the corset, slipped out of the sleeves of the dress, and spread her legs wide.

"I need you here."

Pol did not want for much more encouragement than that. He stumbled across the barn to her, his breeches tripping him up until he escaped them. He kissed her, and she forced her tongue into his mouth. He could feel one of her hands working on her folds between them, and the other grabbed him by his cock, dragging him closer, but he resisted a little. 

Nella broke their lips and gave a pouty little moan, and the second she did, he plunged inside her, changing the tone of the moan considerably.

She was unbelievably tight around him, her warm folds gripping him like the nicest vice he'd ever been caught in. He almost lost it then and there, but he rode the wave and managed to get his control back. 

He started slow after that. He kissed her left breast, then pulled the small pink nipple into his mouth, pinching it between his teeth, causing Nella to call out a little. His slow pumps were not being met with much response, and he guessed that she was used to the type of man that expected to have sex with a plank. He altered the angle of his thrust a little, and was rewarded when Nella began to move her hips slightly.

"That," he said, encouraging her to do more. "Just like that." 

Their tempo began to escalate, and Nella worked one hand through the hair on the back of his head while the other clenched his ass. Pol switched his attentions to her other breast, and she began to gasp and writhe, sending delicious sensations down his cock as she wriggled with him inside her.

"No farmboy has ever lasted this long," she moaned.

"If I was a farmboy, I don't think I would've either," said Pol. "You're incredible."

Her eyes searched his for the truth, thinking he was mocking her. When she found nothing, she pulled his head in for a kiss again.

Their coupling had hit a plateau, with Pol pulling almost all the way out of her and then forcing himself into her as far as he could go, but Nella wrapped her legs around his, restricting how far he could remove himself.

"Faster," she whispered into his ear. "I like how you fill me."

He increased his pace and was rewarded with a series of "ohs" from Nella at the end of each stroke. The hand on his ass found its way to her clit, as Nella helped herself along. 

She came with a violence, her moans choking off as she quivered in silence. The contractions of her pussy pushed Pol, still pumping away, near the edge.

"I'm going to cum," he told her.

"Well," said Nella, panting as she worked her way through end of the orgasm. Her hand was still working her clit, building her towards a third one. "Unless there's an engagement ring at the end of this, it'd better be on my belly."

Pol pulled out of her, his cock covered with her juices, and knelt between her legs, stroking himself as she did the same to her clit. They locked gazes, and Nella bit her bottom lip. Her free hand played with her right nipple.

"Oh, fuck," swore Pol, unable to watch the buxom blonde beauty play with herself any further and maintain his composure. His first spurt went across her dress and belly button, the sudden heat catching Nella a little by surprise. She dropped her gaze to watch him explode, as the second and third spurts climbed higher each time. When a fourth rope of cum landed across her left breast, coating the nipple in hot white glaze, she came again, rubbing herself like her life depended on it. 

Watching Nella's orgasmic distress prompted more strength out of his own, and he managed one more spurt on her right breast, another across her belly, and deposited the last of his load in the golden mound at the intersection of her legs.

"Oh," said Nella. She placed both hands on her head, elbows together, her breasts lifting and squeezing together as she did. She looked down her sticky chest, then scooped one finger through the cum.

"I think you earned a horse, Pol Burr," she said, pulling her finger into her mouth.

The sound of hooves and footsteps outside the barn gave both of them a fright, and Pol tensed, ready to run if need be. 

"Pol?" came a loud whisper. Kiera came into the barn. She looked at Pol, wearing no pants, and Nella, her dress a thin rumpled band across her waist. Then her eyes dropped to Pol's still turgid cock and then the girl in the hay covered in his cum and she placed a hand across her eyes and spun around.




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 02



"Dragon's bells," she swore. "I was wondering what was taking you so long to steal a horse."

"Who's that?" asked Nella. She'd tried to cover herself with her dress, but hadn't managed more than a sleeve. Seeing it wasn't her father, she relaxed a little. 

"My traveling companion," said Pol. "Hey, Kiera, you know how to saddle a horse, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, I don't, and the lady here isn't in any shape to," said Pol. He found his breeches, and began to lace them back up. 

Kiera hazarded a peek over her shoulder, where Nella was still licking her fingers clean. 

"We're taking the one in the last stall. His name's Brady, and he likes peaches," said Pol.

"Apples," Nella corrected.

"Apples, that's right, he likes apples," said Pol, grinning at Nella.

Kiera made her way towards the back stall, pointedly not looking at where Nella and Pol were. She found Brady's stall and his saddle and bridle and went about making him ready for travel. When she was done, she snuck a glance around the stall, and saw Pol was pumping his fingers in and out of Nella's pussy while the girl bit his shoulder. Kiera ducked back, her cheeks burning and her breath coming a little heavy. She tried to take a moment to compose herself, but the image of Pol's cock came unbidden to her mind, and her nipples hardened under her smock. 

She cleared her throat, steeled herself, and led Brady out of his stall. 

Again pretending that Pol and Nella existed in some forbidden space in the barn, Kiera announced, "We're ready, Pol."

Nella groaned as Pol removed his fingers from inside her, apologizing.

"We've got to go," he said. "Unless you can bring Tia Vashil here."

Pol took Brady's reins from Kiera, and cautiously swung himself into the saddle. He considered the horse 

"I can do this much," he said. "But I don't know how to ride."

"Well, that's a lie," said Nella, climbing to her feet, the bliss having finally worn off. She let her dress down and did the laces back up and joined Pol at Brady's side. Kiera marched out of the barn to collect Blade. 

"If you want him to go left, you pull left," she explained. "Go right, pull right. Go forward, you give him a kick, and whip the reins a little. To stop, draw back on them and say, 'whoa.'"

She patted Brady's neck. 

"He'll do most of the work anyhow. You're just clever baggage."

"Ready, Pol?" shouted Kiera from outside.

Pol gave Brady an experimental kick, and the horse took off. Pol started screaming "whoa" to no avail.

"Pull on the reins!" shouted Nella, and Pol managed to do that, drawing Brady to a halt. He experimented with a gentler kick this time, and Brady stepped forward. Pol turned him out of the barn and stopped.

Nella followed him to the threshold of the doorway, and giggled as Pol tried to say goodbye to her, Brady turning in a slow circle as he mishandled the reins.

"Thanks for the horse, gorgeous," said Pol. "If you're ever in Tia Vashil, come find me at the Guild of Sorcerers!" 

Kiera was riding Blade down the road at a steady trot, and Pol dug his heels into Brady after her.

"You're a sorcerer?" asked Nella. 

"I will be soon!"



Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 03



Kiera's body was a roaring fire as Pol came inside her, filling her cunt with heat. The muscles in his back relaxed under her hands, but she held him close, not letting him pull out, even as his cum trickled out of her pussy and he softened a little. He kissed her, long and hard, and she could feel him stiffening again. She looked into his face, and he seemed worried and helpless, despite the sweet soreness he'd just caused between her legs.

"Please, don't let me go," he begged her.

****

Kiera woke in a damp sweat and reached a hand down between her legs where her hair was matted together. That was a mistake - she was still quite sensitive, and when her finger made an accidental stroke against her clit she moaned, a little too loudly.

She glanced over at where Pol was sleeping, but the warlock didn't move.

Hells, she thought. And dragon's bells. For three days, whenever she'd had a moment with her thoughts, she'd been thinking of nothing but Pol hunched over that farmgirl and his seed sprayed across her body, and his beautiful cock covered in her cum.

And here she was, having early-morning wet dreams like a teenage girl. She'd learned how to sword fight before she hit puberty. She'd knocked a man senseless in a joust when she was 15, and had killed five bandits by the time she was 22.

And she'd fucked and been fucked by enough men, and a few women as well, but she'd never experienced desire like this before.

By Vash's song, he was pretty. His nose had been broken, who knew how, but it had mended in a way that accented his strong features, and the grey eyes that always seemed to have a light in them and his easy smile that could made her smile back in spite of herself. And his breeches were a tad too tight; more than once, she'd caught herself staring at the curve of his ass as he'd walked away from her.

"Fuck," Kiera muttered to herself, catching her mind wandering again. She crawled out of her bedroll, collected her sword and rooted around in her saddlebags for her toiletries. They'd been riding for nearly three days straight, and they were close enough to the river again that she figured now would be as good a time as any to get clean before the dust of the road was caked to her body again.

The water was cool, but that suited Kiera. She waded out to where it was about as deep as her waist, and placed her soap and cloth on a nearby rock. She dipped under the water and burst back to the surface. She ran her hands across her hair, feeling the sides where it was growing out. In Coulain, where they traded regularly with the Dragon Clans in the west, they'd told her shaved sides and a long top made her look fierce, but the longer she went without being able to correct the sides, the more she couldn't wait for it to be long enough to cut down around her ears again.

She reached for her soap and scrubbed her arms and shoulders, and then along the curves of her breasts, paying attention to her large dark nipples, which were hard as rocks from the cold water.

"Mind if I join you?"

Kiera jumped a little, and nearly lost her bar of soap. She glanced over to where Pol sat chuckling on the bank.

"It's not my river," she said as indifferently as she could dare, turning her back. Behind her, she heard Pol undo his belt.

"Vash, that's cold," he swore, wading out to her. "This might be embarrassing." Kiera sank down until her chest was under the water, lifting a leg to rub the soapy cloth along it.

"Can I borrow that when you're done?" asked Pol, looking rather helpless. He'd clearly only planned up to getting in the river with her. She nodded, switching to the other leg. When that was done, she passed him the cloth.

"Where's the soap?" he asked.

"On the rock," said Kiera, sinking down until just the top of her head from her nose on up was poking out of the water, watching him as he debated what to do.

Eventually Pol clambered up to the rock, lifting most of his body out of the water, and Kiera watched with excitement as his cock came out hard and long, even in the cold of the river. Pol caught her looking, retrieved the soap and sank back into the water, his cheeks flushed with color.

"You're very beautiful," he shrugged.

She watched as he cleaned himself, rubbing the cloth along his chest, and when his cock made a repeat appearance as he put his legs up on a rock to clean them in turn.

"You need a shave," she said, rising out of the water a little, when he was about finished.

"Well, I don't trust myself without a mirror," he said. "So unless you have one..."

"I'll trade you," she said. She lifted one leg back above the water, where black hairs had sprouted out of it. "If you shave my legs, I'll shave your face."

"Deal," said Pol. He took the soap and cloth and worked up a lather and Kiera fetched her knife from the rock and handed it to him. He knelt in the water.

"Place your foot on my shoulder," he said. Kiera lifted her right leg out and placed it on his left shoulder. This raised her chest partway out of the water, so that the tops of her nipples were partially exposed. If Pol noticed, he said nothing, spreading the soap lather up and down her leg. His hands were firm and confident and Kiera began to relax a little. The water was fairly clear and Kiera was sure he could see her pussy from where he was. But he seemed focused on his work, starting the knife at the thigh and dragging it gently back towards him down her leg, taking the hairs with him. When he'd finished with one side, he moved her leg to his right shoulder, and worked down the right side. When he thought he'd finished, he ran his hand back across the grain of the smooth shapely swell of her shin to check and make sure he hadn't missed anything. As he reached her thigh, Kiera regarded him with watchful eyes. His hand reached her inner thigh and she thrilled at his touch, though she betrayed nothing to Pol. He stopped well before the point she might accuse him of taking advantage.

"Now the other," he said, tapping her ankle. She removed her right light and lifted her left.

"You're pretty good at this," she said, watching him lather the new leg and start the knife on its journey. His breath was hot on her ankle.

"It's not exactly the first time I've had a woman's foot on my shoulder," said Pol. "Or shaved."

"Hmmm," said Kiera.

When he'd finished with the other leg, he slipped her foot off his shoulder and handed her the knife and soap and cloth.

"Have you ever shaved a man before?" he asked.

"Many times," said Kiera. "It's not much different than shaving a leg, only legs are generally smarter."

If having her leg on his shoulder had seemed intimate, Kiera realized too late this was nothing on how tight she had to get to shave his face. Her breasts hovered just against his chest as she rubbed the lather on his face, and when she lifted his chin to get started, his grey eyes considered her, shining with glee.

"Remember how close my knife is to your throat," she warned.

"How could I forget?" he said.

"Don't talk," she said. "My hands are a little numb. They could slip."

She stroked each of his cheeks with the blade. To get under his chin, she placed a hand on the side of his neck and lifted his jaw with her thumb, pressing even closer against him. There was an unmistakable hardness against her belly that she tried her best to ignore. She was practically sitting in his lap.

"You wouldn't look atrocious with a beard," she told him. He started to reply, but thought better of it and held his tongue until she'd finished.

"It comes in too patchy to start," he explained, when she took the knife away, sliding away from her in the water. Pol paused, trying to think of some reason to stay in the water with her, as Kiera placed the knife back on the rock.

"I -" he began.

"Could you -" started Kiera at the same time.

They both paused and waited for the other to speak.

"I'm sorry," said Pol. "I had nothing. You go."

"I forgot to clean my back, and I have a hard time reaching it," explained Kiera. "Would you mind?"

"Not at all," said Pol. He took the rag from her, and she turned her back to him, rising halfway out of the water. He rested one hand on her waist, and used the other to scrub her back.

Kiera closed her eyes, enjoying his touch and the feel of his breath on the back of her neck. The hand on her waist began to travel, and when it cupped her breast, she arched her back to give it a better grasp. She could feel the hardness between the cheeks of her ass, and heard the cloth land with a wet smack on the rock. The hand on her breast grasped at her nipple and rolled it between thumb and forefinger and her breath caught in her throat. Another hand dipped below the water and began to explore the space between her legs. When it found the nub of her clit, she gave a groan and shuddered.

A bird called and she heard a fish jump further down the river, and she remembered where they were. She pulled Pol's hands off her body and stepped away from him.

"All clean?" she asked.

"Sure," came Pol's dejected voice.

"Thank you, Pol," she said, gathering up her things on the rock. She waded to shore. She was sure Pol was looking at how swollen her lips were as she bent over to pick up her clothes, but it seemed unavoidable.

"Coming out?" she asked.

Pol sat motionless in the water.

"I might stay a little longer," he said. "I think I've still got a bit of feeling in my toes, and I'd like that to go away."

"Suit yourself," she said. "I'll see you back in camp. Soon, please. Tia Vashil is still a long ways away."

***

Olene, Chieftain of the Sky Dragon Clan, daughter of Korth the Grim, sipped at her fermented milk from the horn cup and stared at one of her thralls. Piero was a fit young man, but he'd proved incompetent with weapons, and been made a thrall. But he was still handy with a sword, just not the kind that killed men. When Olene had become Chieftain, climbing over the corpses of her siblings, she'd surrounded herself with thralls who'd proven useful tools for pleasure. For now, this one was her favorite.

"Here, Piero," she called. Like all Dragon Clan warriors, she was brave and wore very little in the way of actual clothing, but instead was clad in dragon jade jewelry, from the rings on her neck, the belts around her waist, the collection of necklaces to the piercings in her ears, nose, nipples and clitoral hood. To clad yourself in armor was to admit that you were afraid of death, and the Dragon Clan was made of death, so they could not fear it. A warrior needed to clothe him or herself in nothing but flesh and courage.

The thralls were little better. They wore no jade, as they did not fight, but their clothing was loose and easy to discard, should a Clan warrior so desire. When Piero came to her, she pulled the string holding his loincloth together, revealing his limp penis, still quite large even flaccid.

"Uli," she called to the female thrall holding her jug of fermented milk. The young woman put her jug down and came over, shrugging out of her clothes as she did. Uli was a dutiful girl.

Olene poured some of her milk over Piero's cock, and was gratified to see it twitch slightly.

"Uli, get him ready with your mouth."

"Yes, mistress."

Uli knelt before Piero, licking the milk off him. Olene watched with greedy eyes as Piero began to stiffen under Uli's attentions. She'd been on the receiving end of that tongue before, so she was not surprised to see him react almost immediately.

Uli took Piero into her mouth, and Olene was pleased to see how well his girth filled stretched her narrow mouth. Olene watched Uli bob on his cock until it ran wet with her saliva and was standing at attention of its own accord.

"Enough," she commanded. Uli released Piero with a gasp. "Piero, enter me."

"Yes, mistress," said Piero. He took himself in his hands and crouched before her chair, then plowed deep into her pussy.

"Yes," hissed Olene. She stopped him before he could start pumping. "Uli, attend."

Uli came and stood by the chair. Olene reached up and pulled her head down until she was just over Olene's sex.

"Lick me while Piero works," she told the girl. "Piero."

The young thrall began to thrust into her, cupping her ass with his hands to get a better angle and Uli snaked out a tongue to manipulate Olene's clit, causing her to gasp every time the bead on the green ring in her clitoral hood made contact. Olene placed her own hands on the long nipples that capped her large, proud breasts, pulling on the piercings in each one.

Piero was filling her completely, and she gasped again at the pleasure of how she could feel him moving inside her, while Uli's tongue was sending jolts up her body. She would not last long like this and she had hoped not to anyhow.

"Ohhh," she moaned. "Yessss."

She began to orgasm, fluid squirting out of her, splattering Piero's crotch and catching the side of Uli's face with the spray. Uli jerked in surprise, but Olene wrapped her hand through the girl's hair, forcing her head to remain where it was and her tongue to keep working, while a pumping leg entwined with Piero's kept him filling her over and over. Her first orgasm subsided, then began to build slowly into a second one, which did not come rippling out of her, but was stronger and lasted longer. She gasped and pulled on one nipple, twisting it hard as she rode out her pleasure.

"Stop," she said, panting and out of breath, waving Piero and Uli back. The two thralls stepped away, and for a moment she missed their attentions, feeling empty and cold without them.

"Uli, bend over a chair. Piero, have your way with her."

"Yes, mistress," the two thralls echoed each other. Piero licked his hand, spreading it over Uli's sex as she leaned across the arms of the chair they'd selected, one that gave their mistress an excellent view. Piero pushed his way inside and Uli moaned, her hand working one of her small pert breasts.

"Piero, fast," ordered Olene, and smiled as the tent became filled with the sound of their flesh smacking together. She found her horn of fermented milk and sipped it a little, considering the motion of Piero's hips and his length as he rammed himself in and out of Uli.

As the two thralls were fucking each other, Olene's half-brother Varomar entered.

"Magnificent, aren't they?" Olene asked her brother. She saw his cock begin to stiffen, but he fixed her with a look instead of watching the thralls further. Varomar was a mountain of a man, with long black hair he'd woven two pounds of jade into, and a massive dragon jade cleaver at his waist. If he'd had a mind towards intrigue, he might well have taken the Sky Clan from her when Korth died, but as it was, he knew nothing but war and battle. In exchange for his loyalty, she'd made him warmaster of the Sky Clan. Of all her siblings, he alone had survived her rise to power.

"The chiefs of the other clans and their seconds are in Conclave. They await your presence."

Olene sighed, and raised herself out of her chair. There was never any rest in the Dragon Clans. She lifted the Sky Chieftain's Circle from the table and placed it over her close-cropped hair.

"Hold there," she told the two thralls, and they stopped moving. "Wait for me to return. And Piero, if you have finished before I get back, I will be very angry."

The air in the tent where the chiefs had gathered for Conclave hung thick with smoke from their pipes. Olene was gratified to see a few of the men shift uncomfortably as she made her entrance, her cum still wet on her thighs. Olene was not quite sure why so many men stood at the top of their clans. They gave away their attentions so easily. Of the five clan chiefs gathered, only one other was a woman, Aren of the Sea Dragon Clan, and none of the seconds were.

"Why have you called us here, Olene?" asked Forg, chief of the Earth Dragon Clan.

"Why has any Conclave been called?" asked Olene back. "Either to start a war or to end it. Are we at war now?"

"There has been peace for nearly a twenty years," said Aren. Of all the chiefs, she was the longest to hold her position, having been chief for almost five years, raised by popular acclaim when the previous chief of the Sea Clan had died without an heir. Olene had heard Aren had started as a thrall, until she killed her master one night, armed only with a small dagger when he had intended to cut off her hand for displeasing him. She looked at Aren's lithe frame and the long single brown braid that was coiled around the other woman's neck like a snake. She sincerely doubted the rumor was true, though.

"So then," said Olene. "It must be war."

"If you attack us, it will be four against one," said Cillen, of the River Clan. His blinked at her, his one blind eye seeming to stare off behind her.

"Or three against two," said Rooth, the Forest Clan chief. His clan was the weakest, with the fewest warriors and least head of cattle. "For I'll side with her."

Olene shook her head.

"I have no intention of bringing war to my fellow clans," she said. "In fact, I need all of you, and your warriors."

"How many times have the Dragon Clans attempted to invade the East?" she asked, working at the dragon jade circlet wrapped around her thigh.

"Fourteen wars, we've fought," said Cillen. "And fourteen times we've lost."

"Their sorcerers are too strong," spat Rooth. "They break the dragon jade with their magic, and their warriors hide behind their plates of steel."

"I want you to join me in a war against the East. We will take their cities, and make the Clans rulers of their land."

"Did you not hear them, girl?" spat Forg. "We cannot overcome their Guild."

"What do you know of the East that we don't, Olene?" asked Aren.

Olene smiled and leaned back in her chain, pulling one knee up with her. One would have thought that one would be desensitized to such things, but the male chiefs stared hungrily at her lower lips. She grinned.

"The Guild has become weak. Their magic is leaving them, and they are fewer in number now than they have ever been. Our armies will march East, first to Tia Joi, and then to Tia Vashil, and we will destroy the Guild's fortress and use their sorcerers for the pleasure of our warriors."

"How do you know this?" asked Forg. "You have no ability for such things things as spies."

"No ability?" said Olene. Anger filled her voice. She gestured at Varomar. "Korth had nineteen other children, all of them older than me. Only one remains. And you say I have no ability?"

"And if Korth the Grim was here before me, entreating me to march East with him, I would," said Forg. "But I will not listen to the girl that has taken his place. The Sky Clan has fallen into weakness. I think it should become the Earth Clan, and my warriors will become the Sky."

"The Sea comes before the Earth," said Aren. "And I would guess you're wrong."

Olene held a hand up.

"You think you are worthy of the Sky? You think Vash would bless you at the head of the the Dragon Clans? Come here and take the clan from my hands, then, if you dare." She lifted the Chieftan's Circle off her head and held it out to Forg.

Forg hesitated. He had not expected such an offer.

"If I can take the Circle, you will recognize me as Chief?" he asked.

"If you can take it. By the hells, if you can but touch it," said Olene. "I will suck your cock and give you pleasure such as you've never had in your pathetic life."

"I will take your clan," Forg snarled, advancing on her. "And I will make you scream my name tonight as I fill you." He reached a hand out to seize the Circle from her.

Varomar leapt forward, driving the heel of his palm against Forg's nose in one clean motion as he did. The bone in Forg's nose broke and was carried along with the cartilage back into his face. Forg stumbled backwards, his arms flailing, barely able to articulate a sound. Varomar stepped forward, seized the Earth chief's head in one massive paw, and twisted until the man's neck snapped. Forg's corpse crumpled at his feet. 




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 03



Before the gathered chiefs could even rise to their feet, Varomar's cleaver was in his hand.

"The first to draw their weapon against my chief is the first to join this scum," he announced.

"You cannot commit violence in a Conclave," said Aren.

"Except in defence of violence," said Olene. "You saw Forg threaten violence against me."

"You goaded him into it."

"Nonetheless," said Olene. She looked at Forg's second. "What is your name?"

"Alok," answer the man.

"Hail, Alok, Chief of the Earth Dragon Clan. Will you march with me against the East? Or I can offer you the same bargain I offered Forg."

Alok's gaze flitted to Varomar's cleaver.

"The Earth will march with the Sky against the East."

"The Forest will march with the Sky against the East," Rooth followed quick on Alok's heels.

"The River will march with the Sky against the East," allowed Cillen.

Only Aren was silent, staring at Forg's body. All eyes settled on her, and she looked up.

"The Sea will march with the Sky against the East," she said. She gave Olene a wary look as the younger woman stood and placed the Chieftain's Circle back on her head.

"But if we lose, Olene, the Sea will eat the Sky."

Olene frowned. When one clan ate another, every warrior and thrall in the clan was killed, and the clan was made new out of the warriors of the clan that had eaten them.

"Then we must not lose."

When she returned to her tent, Piero and Uli remained joined over the chair, their faces contorted with pain, and Piero's with fear. Olene knelt by them, and she could see his semen had leaked out of Uli's cunt and run down her legs to the floor.

"Oh, Piero," she said. "I am very disappointed."



Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 04



The fire in the camp burned low, and Kiera laughed as Pol talked. They'd both attempted to put the encounter in the river behind them, which was a simple matter of not acknowledging it had happened and doing less bathing together, an unacknowledged agreement that had survived peacefully for two weeks in the forest.

"What did you do then?"

"Well, what could I do?" asked Pol. "She'd only just thrown me my pants, and I was trying to put them on when he rushed me. So in my haste to get away from him, I hardly noticed the damned window was open."

"And that's when you went out?"

"And that's when I went out. Five stories, I fell."

"Into a cart of manure."

"That's right."

"What'd you do after you landed in the manure?"

"Well, I got my pants on, at least," Pol said. 

"I can't imagine surviving a fall like that," said Kiera. She place a new branch in the fire, watching as the tip of it burst into a bright flame. "What goes through your mind?"

"Oh, you know, the same things you think about before you go to sleep, only faster and there are more of them. The good times, the bad times, the people you love, the people you hate, the regrets you've had. Women you didn't bed," said Pol.

Kiera glanced away from him at this last.

"Pol-" she began, then stopped. She raised her head and looked out into the woods.

"What?"

"Shut up, Pol," said Kiera. She grabbed her sword, drawing it and throwing the scabbard and belt on the ground.

"Hey now, I know it was a bad story," said Pol, rising to his feet after her.

Kiera reached for the branch she'd stuck in the fire, and held it out to him.

"Take this, and hold it high," she said. "I need to be able to see."

Pol grew tense.

"What's out there?" he whispered. "What do you hear?"

"Nothing," said Kiera. "That's what scares me. Even the horses aren't making a sound."

Pol listened and found she was right. They'd hitched the horses to a tree just a small way from camp, and there was no sound coming from them at all. 

"What's happened to them?"

"I don't know," said Kiera. "Hold that torch high."

The two of them looked out into the darkness, straining to see. Kiera reached out and found Pol's arm, raising the torch higher.

"Something's watching us," she said, her voice calm and quiet.

Pol glanced at where she was staring. There was a silhouette shifting in the underbrush, but Pol couldn't make out what it was. Two pin-pricks of light hovered in the air, and Pol realized with a start it was the fire reflecting off the curve of a pair of eyes. Another pair of eyes appeared, and another.

"They're all around," he said. "Wolves?"

"Wolves don't attack humans," said Kiera. "Not unless they're desperate." 

A man wearing a wolfskin over his upper body, but naked save for that, dashed forward, screaming and waving a short spear with a sword point on it. Kiera's sword dashed forward and lopped the head off the spear. He stared at it in shock, but before he could recover, Kiera smacked him in the face with the flat of her blade, sending him reeling back into the dark.

"Don't toy with them," said a voice. Another naked man stepped forward out the darkness. He had long red hair that ran down nearly to his waist and glowing yellow eyes.

"Kill them."

The eyes surrounding them began to shift, each pair moving a little further apart, then rising up. A collection of naked men and women, most of them wearing all or part of a wolf hide on their heads, stepped forward. 

"I told you they weren't wolves," said Kiera. "They're Canians."

"Oh, good," said Pol. 

Canians were the wildmen of the woods. Though they were unmistakably men, they claimed to be descended from women who'd lain with wolves. Whether the stories were true or not, they did possess the yellow eyes and night vision of a wolf. But their unpredictable and reclusive nature had left them more legendary boogeyman than actual threat. When he'd misbehaved as a child, his mother had threatened to take him into the forest and leave him there for the Canians to eat. Once, she'd actually frogmarched him out to the woods in the dark and left him there for half an hour, though she'd later confessed to hiding behind a tree and keeping an eye on him the entire time.

But these Canians weren't a parent's fairy tale. These Canians were real.

They began to advance and Pol thrashed the torch back and forth in front of him, attempting to ward them off. The long-haired man began to reach for Kiera. 

Her sword flashed red in the dying fire, and he screamed as a deep gash opened up across his leg, dropping him to one knee. Kiera leapt to him, seizing him around the shoulders, and dragging him to his feet, facing outwards. The edge of her sword nudged up against his throat.

"Get back," she said. "Or by Vash, I swear I'll cut his throat."

The Canians in front of her shrunk away, but behind her, they closed further on Pol.

"Kiera!" he yelled, causing her to turn around, dragging her captive with her. The ones behind her tightened again as the ones in front of Pol slunk back. She twirled, trying to keep her hostage between her and the threat. 

There were too many of them for this to work for very long. When she turned to fend off Pol's attackers again, a hand reached up and seized her sword wrist, the grip a vise, twisting it away from her hostage's throat. Another pulled her other arm away, freeing the long-haired man, and a foot in the back of her knees sent her sprawling to the dirt.

"Now we'll make you pay, bitch," said her former captive. He picked up her sword.

"No!" cried Pol. There was an awful creaking and then a loud snap over their heads and a bough from the tree above them came crashing down, landing a foot from Kiera's face. The man with Kiera's sword danced back just in time to keep from being crushed.

"Hells, what was that?" he said, peering up at the tree. A couple of Canians grabbed Pol and bore him to the ground.

"Anyone hurt?"

"It was a near miss, Mox," said one. "Not a scratch."

"Okay then," said Mox. "Just keep an eye out for falling trees, then, I guess. We'll kill her first, then the boy." He measured the swing down to Kiera's neck.

"Been a while since I used one of these," he confessed to Kiera. "Hope for your sake I remember how to do it clean."

"Hold," came a rumbling deep voice from the darkness, and Mox looked up in the direction it had come.

A massive man, seven feet tall, with jet black hair and ox-broad shoulders stepped out of the darkness. He had a thick full beard and a scar ran down his chest towards his groin, where Kiera saw he was sporting one of the largest cocks she had ever seen.

"What are you doing, Mox?"

"Killing these trespassers, Largan," said Mox. 

"Did I say they were yours to kill?" asked Largan. 

"No, but you saw the armor on her horse," said Mox. "The whole thing is dragon jade. She must be some sort of Dragon Clan champion. We should kill her now and keep her from reporting back to them."

"Who is the Alpha, Mox?"

"You are, Largan."

"I am," snarled Largan. He grabbed Mox by the throat and ripped Kiera's sword out of his grasp, then sent the smaller man tumbling to the ground.

"I should've killed you when I became Alpha, Mox," he said. "Vel told me to, said that you'd be nothing but trouble, but I was foolish. I thought you'd learn your place, eventually."

"I should be Alpha," said Mox. "It should be me who beds Vel."

"She'd have eaten you alive and I still would've been made Alpha after she was through," said Largan. "Get back to the den. I'll deal with you when I'm through here."

Mox slunk away into the night, and Largan turned his attention back to Kiera. He tested the weight of her sword, giving it a few lazy swings through the air.

"We're not Dragon Clan," she said. 

Largan sighed.

"Well, that's the trouble, isn't it? I've only got your word for it." He plunged her sword into the ground, deep enough that it stuck up on its own accord when he let it go.

"You're a pretty brave fighter," he told her. "And skilled."

"Not skilled enough," said Kiera.

Largan grinned at her.

"Well, skill isn't all fighting," he said. He rubbed at his beard.

"What's your name?"

"Kiera."

"And what's your man's name?"

"Pol. He's not my man. Just a friend."

"You could've fooled our scouts. So you're not together?"

"No."

"You're an unlucky man, Pol," said Largan, laughing. He picked a small log up from the pile near the fire and placed on top of the embers. He blew on the embers, coaxing the flame back to life, and then stood watching it until he was satisfied.

"Since you're unattached, I'll give you a deal, Kiera. It's been a long time since I've been with a woman who didn't have wolf blood. Vel is a sweet mate, but a man gets hungry for some strange now and then. And we don't meet many strangers..."

His eyes roved her body and he fixed her with a canine grin. "At least, not strangers that look like you."

"If you can...please me...before the last ember in this fire dies," said Largan. "I'll let you and your not-my-man Pol there go free. I'll even give you safe passage through our territory, and assign a guard to ensure that no one, even Mox, attacks you." 

"Don't do it," said Pol.

"If you refuse," said Largan. "I'll kill you both here and now and spread your bones across the forest so no one will ever find you."

"And if I fail before the fire dies?" asked Kiera. 

"Well, then, you'll be my prisoners, to do with as I wish. I'll take you back to the den for Vel to decide what to do with you. But I'll let you both live, because I'll know you're not Dragon Clan."

"How will you know that?"

"The Clans hate us and anything they consider a weak race," said Largan. "They would never touch us, let alone couple with us. And even if you were Dragon Clan and did, when I let you both up after, your fellow there will kill you on the spot."

"Make your decision with haste, Kiera," said Largan. He pointed at the fire. "The longer you wait, the less time you'll have." 

Kiera looked over at Pol. Don't do it, he mouthed. Kiera shook her head.

"We'll die if I don't, Pol." Largan's eyes lit up.

"Let her up," he told the men holding her. "And then move away. Atti, take Pol there, too. I don't want to know any of you are here."

His followers let Kiera up and dragged a thrashing, shouting Pol away.

"Don't hurt him," said Kiera.

"They won't," said Largan. "Unlike Mox, they know their place." 

"You'd better get started," he told her. "There's not much flame left in that fire."

Kiera considered the task in front of her. Largan was much bigger up close than he had even appeared when she first saw him. She squatted down near him, spat in her hands, rubbing them slick, then reached up to his massive cock and grasped him. He was almost as thick as the blade of her sword and she couldn't quite close her hand around him. She began to stroke insistently at him, and then leaned forward and twirled the head with her tongue. Largan said nothing and did not move, but he grew stiffer under her grip as she worked. She began to attempt to swallow some of him. Kiera had a wide mouth, but it was a stretch to fit Largan inside it, and she gagged slightly at the effort. Humming as she did, she began to suck on him.

*****

They'd dragged Pol standing up against a tree and given him a good view of what was happening in the camp, with a reminder that if he tried anything, they'd kill him on the spot. He watched Kiera trying to force the Alpha's cock deeper and deeper into her mouth, his skin burning. In spite of himself, his pants grew tighter.

"Look, this one's hard," said a woman. She squeezed Pol through his breeches. 

"You like watching your girlfriend suck our Alpha?" she whispered.

"We're not together," said Pol.

"Oh?" she said. "Then she won't mind if I do this."

She began to slip the laces on his breeches apart, then snuck a hand inside, stroking him along.

*****

Spittle ran down Kiera's chin and neck as she attempted to devour the Alpha's member. A pain flared in her jaw from the effort, yet Largan seemed unmoved.

"The log is low," he said. Kiera pulled away from him and saw he was right. A small red fire licked the top, but other than that, it was almost embers. 

"Lie down," she told him, stripping off her smock. The night air was cool on her breasts and for a moment she shivered. Largan complied, stretching out before her. He barely even appeared to glance at her chest.

Kiera spat on his cock, watching it run down part of his length before rubbing the saliva as evenly as she could make it, then spat on her cleavage a few times, rubbing her breasts slick. She crawled over him, and pulled his cock up by the base with one hand. With the other, she cradled her breasts together, squeezing them close, then lowered her chest until the head of his cock was just below. She dropped suddenly, pushing his member through her cleavage.

Largan was so long that when he burst through the top of her breasts, she was able to take the tip in her mouth when she'd pushed down to his groin. She used her bottom hand to stroke his shaft and hold it steady as she slipped him back out. He was thick and hot, and it felt like moving a heated stone between her breasts. Though she was meant to get Largan off, her nipples had become erect and her pussy was engorged and the cloth of her breeches' crotch was beginning to feel soaked through. 

When she forced Largan's cock through breasts again, she let out a low involuntary moan.

*****

Pol was hard as steel watching as Kiera pumped Largan's cock with her breasts, moaning each time she released the head from her mouth.

"Mmmm, that looks fun," said his female visitor, her hand still pumping him, smearing his precum down his shaft as it worked. "I'll bet you wish you were our Alpha now, don't you? Your girlfriend ever do that to you?"

"No," Pol moaned.

"That's a fucking shame," she said. She freed him entirely from his breeches and gasped a little.

"He's almost as big as the Alpha," she said.

"Too much for you, then. Let me have him, then," came another female voice, low, so as not to disturb the Alpha and Kiera.

"No," said the first woman. "He's all mine."

Pol gasped as she took him in her mouth, but his eyes stayed locked on Kiera as the light from the fire began to fade a little faster.

*****

"There's nothing but embers left," said Largan. "And I'm not close yet. You'll have to do something drastic, little Kiera," he said. 

Kiera swore and stood up. She kicked her boots off and stripped off her breeches, a wide wet spot on her crotch where her juices had been absorbed by the fabric. She turned around, giving Largan an eyeful of her ass and engorged pussy lips, then straddled the big man, slowly squatting down. She pulled his cock up off its resting place on his belly, and aimed it at her slit. She gasped and shuddered when the big head penetrated her as she squatted lower, spreading her lips as it pushed in, and she stopped for a moment, trying to catch her breath, before continuing the slow spearing of herself on Largan.

And then she was stretched to her fullest extent, and she let out a moan as a jolt traveled up her spine. She came then, hard. The world grew dark momentarily, and it was not just the dying of the coals in the fire. She shook, screaming her pleasure out into the night.

*****

The woman sucking on Pol had one of the strongest mouths he'd ever felt, but it was Kiera, stripped naked, the curves of her body lit red in the glow of the embers, the dark outline of the Alpha's huge member disappearing up into her as she came, that pushed Pol over the edge. He thrust uncontrollably, his coming violent, leaving him shaking. The woman on the end of his cock gave a happy hum, slurping as he came, and it felt like she was sucking his seed directly out of his sack. For all her effort though, some still dribbled back out of her mouth and she had to lick his cock to get what she'd missed, only for a late series of spurts as Kiera quaked on Largan to catch her by surprise.

"Taste this," she called out to her friend when Pol was finished, and he looked down in surprise at the sound of a sloppy kiss occurring at his crotch, where the two women were trading his cum between them.

"Mmm," said the second one. "I wish Birke tasted like this."

"I wish Cotlar had as large a cock," said the first. 

When Pol looked back up, he'd lost Kiera to the darkness, nothing but the sound of her moans and a cock pushing into a pussy left to tell him where she was. He slipped down against the tree, and buried his head in his arms.

A hand rubbed his neck, and the second woman said, gently, "She'll be okay. Largan won't let anything bad happen to her."

"She's probably enjoying herself," said the first.

*****

Kiera had recovered enough to bounce up and down on the Alpha, moaning and gasping. One of her hands twisted and pulled at her right nipple, while the other went to work on her clit, rubbing her palm hard against it. She'd completely forgotten the deal, and was just trying to get off again as fast as possible, before the giant filling her up disappeared. 

"Oh Vash, oh Vash," she moaned. Largan was so big that she was almost scared by the possibility of him doing permanent damage to her, but there was no way she was going to stop now. Every time she plunged down on him, she was rewarded with a wet squelch as more of the juices from her orgasm were pressed out of her, and one of the fullest feelings she'd ever had spread through her body.

"It's time," said Largan. "The fire's gone." 

Kiera swore and looked. It was true. There wasn't a single ember left in the circle she'd built. 

"Now what?" she moaned, still bouncing on top of him.

"Now you're mine," said Largan. "And I'll do with you as I please."

He began to stand up, pushing her up along with him by the cock still buried inside her, until he was squatting just behind her, moving lightly back and forth. He ran his hands up her body, stopping at her breasts for a moment to give them both a hearty squeeze, then moving up to her shoulders and along her arms until he'd grabbed her by the forearms and lifted those up over her head. He pinned her wrists together with one hand, then used the other to bend her slowly forward until she felt the bark of a tree under her palms, with Largan following her over, the warmth of his breath traveling her spine as she was leaned further from him.

"Hold there," said Largan. He let her wrists go and Kiera hugged the tree a little. Largan began pumping into her with strong, forceful thrusts, Kiera pushing back to match his rhythm, her breasts swinging as they were jolted each time she and Largan closed together. With his right hand, he grabbed a hunk of her hair and pulled her head back and to the side. His left hand went to work between her thighs, and he leaned forward to kiss her open moaning mouth. His tongue danced with hers, and his thrusting became more hurried.

"Your mouth is so warm," he said, breaking apart their lips. "I almost lost it in the first minute, and was terrified you'd go free." He let go of her hair and his hand reached for her right breast. He squeezed and groped at her breast, and she moaned as he found the hard nipple and rolled it in his hand. 

"And then you brought your magnificent tits into play," he said. "And I feared I would explode. It was all I could do to keep that from happening, to get to the sweetest prize of all."

His right hand joined his left at her clit, and he was pounding into her now.

"And then when you sat on my cock, you came with such power," he said. "Vel has one of those once in a blue moon. To tell you the truth I might very well have cum myself a little then, I couldn't say. Don't worry, it's the rare human woman who can carry a Canian's seed to term."




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 04



Kiera gasped as he drew back far, to the point where he was almost slipping out, and then plunged back into her.

"It wouldn't have mattered."

"Oh?"

"I've..." Largan shifted his hips slightly, bringing his cock into more contact with a different part of her pussy, and she moaned again. "...taken precautions..."

"For your friend, there?" 

"No. There have been...others...I...I don't know. Maybe."

"He's out there, you know," Largan whispered, and Kiera looked in the direction they'd taken Pol, but she saw nothing. "You can't see him, he can't see you, but he can hear us."

Largan leaned down close, his breath hot in her ear.

"You won't tell anyone I cheated, will you, little Kiera?"

She would have said anything to keep the exquisite symphony he was conducting on her clit and pussy with his hands and cock going at that moment.

"N-n-no," she moaned. "I promise."

"I hoped so," he said, his thrusts driving her forward until her breasts were just touching the rough bark of the tree.

"Cum for me again, little Kiera," he said. "Cum like you did when you were riding me." 

"Cum for him."

Kiera gasped and shuddered, coming on command. She let out a wordless shout and reached one arm back around her to grasp at Largan's head, drawing him closer to her. He nipped at her neck, light to not break the skin, and held himself still for a moment, waiting as her pussy contracted over and over on his cock and her juices flowed down his shaft. 

He pulled out of her then, and she hissed her frustration as he did. 

"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere, little Kiera," said Largan. "I'm going to use you until I've finished."

He turned her around and slid his hands down behind her knees. He lifted her into the air as if she were a light sack, spreading her legs far apart as he did. He lowered her down onto him, driving back inside her, spearing her up against the tree.

"Oh, fuck," cried Kiera as his fat cock pushed inside her again to its furthest extent. It felt like he was buried to the hilt, but when she reached down, there was still enough shaft sticking out of her that she could fit a hand between her and his groin. 

Largan growled as he began thrusting again, slipping through her hand as well. 

"Yes, little Kiera, that's right...show me how glad you are you lost."

Kiera stroked harder at the bit of shaft she couldn't envelope in her pussy when he withdrew on each thrust, moaning and panting she did. Her other hand wrapped around Largan's neck. The bark was rough on her back as he pumped into her, but she hardly cared. Her breasts were bouncing up and down in time to his thrusts and her strokes, and Largan had a somewhat difficult time attempting to capture a nipple in his mouth. Her cleavage grew slick again from his saliva, until finally he pulled the nipple between his teeth, giving her a gentle but insistent bite. 

Kiera's moaning grew loud again, until Largan let her breast go and smothered her with his mouth. He let her legs down, first one, then the other, and when he stepped back, Kiera's legs buckled and she fell to her knees, breaking the kiss.

Largan reached down and took one of her hands, leading it to his cock.

"Taste yourself, little Kiera," he said. "Taste how much you needed this."

She pulled his cock down to her mouth, and stuck her tongue out, tasting her sweetness on his shaft. As she licked down his length, she looked up into his glowing yellow eyes. He was dripping with her juices and she felt drunk from sex. But Largan was not quite done with her.

He lay down on the dirt again, and pulled Kiera on top of him. She moaned as he entered her again, although not as much as before. She tried to sit up and bounce on him again, but the moment she did, she collapsed forward.

"No, no, little Kiera" said Largan, stroking her back. "I applaud your courage, but I'll take it from here."

He squeezed her tight against him as he began to buck his hips up into her, his strength undiminished by their marathon session. Kiera moaned into his ear as he did, and he turned his head and kissed her mouth, tasting the juices she'd licked off of him a moment earlier. 

On the tenth stroke, he came inside of her, and it felt like a volcano going off, his hot cum spilling into her pussy and to her delighted surprise, she came again for a third incredible time as he did, this one nearly as powerful as the first. Hoarse with moaning, barely any sound exited her lips as she tried to cry out. She bit into Largan's shoulder instead, tasting the briney sweat that clung to his skin. 

For a moment, they just lay there together, Largan stroking her back as she shuddered on him. As he softened, he pulled his cock out of her, depositing her gently on the ground next to him. Kiera could barely keep her eyes open, but she reached a hand down between her legs to find herself soaked with his seed and her juices. She took the hand away and sucked the fingers into her mouth, and was rewarded with a salty-sweet combination on her tongue.

Largan's yellow eyes were embers in the dark. He gathered her in his arms, lifting her gently off the dirt.

"Get her clothes," he commanded to one of his fellows. "And her sword. We're taking them back to the den."

He smiled down at Kiera, who was drifting off to sleep in the cradle of his chest. 

"Vel's going to love you."



Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 05



Garen frowned at his reflection in the mirror. His once dark black hair had become dotted through with flecks of sandy grey and there were lines deepening around his eyes and his frown, even. The mustache and beard that framed his mouth had also lost some of its luster, now holding a gradient, as the color faded the closer it got to the end of his chin. He leaned forward to examine the signs of his aging, sighing heavily. He wasn't even a hundred yet. The Guild's expansive archives listed thousands of sorcerers who had maintained their looks for almost twice as long as that, and some who had died of old age before they'd even developed a wrinkle. 

Things felt a little more slack than they had in days past, though he still looked trim in his reflection. He was not particularly looking forward to this meeting of the High Council, but he shrugged into his sheer robe and dutifully plodded the halls to the council chambers. The situation, as he saw it, was desperate, and he'd had to request the emergency meeting two weeks in advance of their regular schedule.

The closed chambers of the High Council of the Guild of Sorcerers was not a splendid high-ceilinged hall with flying buttresses and marble columns, though such things did exist in the Guild Rock. Rather, it was an intimate room, covered with fur rugs and fine tapestries, stocked with a single low meeting table and desk for the secretary, as well as comfortable chairs, designed to comfortably hold only a dozen or so people who might sometimes be asked to sit in it for hours at a time. Garen was gratified that Praela, the Chief Archivist and council secretary, had apparently lit a fire.

Waldrin, as Council Chair, was there ahead of him, of course, stroking at his long mustache, and reading through the minutes of the last meeting with Praela, though judging from the outline of his cock through his robe, he was mostly using his position to observe Praela's fine nude form first hand. Garen doubted Margase would enjoy this when she arrived, but Praela seemed to be enjoying Waldrin's attentions, as her arm repeatedly brushed his, and sometimes Waldrin's member tapped into the small of her back.

As Praela held her position on the council ex ufficio by dint of being the Chief Archivist, she was afforded no vote or voice in council matters, nor was she allowed to wear the robe of a Councillor. According to the ancient traditions, no one at a meeting of the High Council was allowed to conceal anything upon their person, so the meetings were conducted in the nude. Some council long ago had conceded that they would allow themselves to wear the sheer robes as part of a nod towards modesty.

Of course, a Sorcerer like Carista would never be modest, no matter what garment was draped over her voluptuous form. Her curly brown hair was cut just to her shoulders, which was something different from the last time he'd seen her, and it'd been to her waist. Like Waldrin, she was watching Praela just perhaps a little too closely, and Garen saw the little secretary was sneaking her glances whenever Waldrin wasn't looking. Carista caught Garen's look and fixed him with an arched brow.

"Your hair looks nice," he said. Carista did not hate him, exactly, but she did not have much use for men in general, and she had never warmed to him, though supposedly she and Tudon got along. 

"Thank you," she allowed. "I thought after fifteen years, it was time for a change." 

There were laughing voices in the hall, two men and a woman, and at the sound of the woman's Waldrin stood back quickly from Praela and settled into his chair at the head of the table, attempting to hide himself in his lap. Margase entered, her robes hanging loose, long red hair covering her breasts, arms folded across her chest, carried by the short Tudon and tall, blonde, bearded Bollu. They placed her on the table, her head resting gently in front of Waldrin's ankles, her feet by Garen's chair, eyes closed.

"My dearest Chair," said white-haired Tudon, kneeling before Waldrin, his voice quaking with emotion. "We found this strange woman sick outside the chambers, and beg that she be admitted to the chamber, as was her dying wish."

Bollu stifled a laugh, slipping into his chair across from Garen, as Tudon took his to Waldrin's left.

Waldrin looked down at the freckled woman before him. He tapped her forehead.

"What did you die of?"

Margase opened one eye and stared up at him.

"Pleasure," she said, drawing the word out and instilling it with an extra dose of drama. "You inflicted a mortal wound on me last night." She rolled over on the table, and Garen and Carista both stared at the delicious porcelain curve of her rump, and pulled herself up to kiss the bronze Waldrin. She reached down into his lap.

"Looks like you're getting ready to kill me again," she said, staring down at what she felt.

"You should take your chair, we're almost all here," said Waldrin, giving her a slight push.

Margase stood up, and walked on top of the table to her seat between Garen and Tudon. 

"Help me down, Garen," she said, reaching a hand, and he looked up at her, her open robe and slightly spread legs giving him an excellent view of her lower lips, the burning red hair just above it, and the curve of her small breasts with their large round pink nipples. Garen offered her a hand down to her chair. She smiled as she took her seat, and watched with interest at the growing arousal in his lap. 

Heldi was the last to arrive.

She strode into the room without a word, closing the door gently behind her. Her robe was barely hanging onto her, and had it not had sleeves, she might very well have lost it. Her long black hair was arrayed in a crest along her head. Her sun-kissed brown skin glowed, and her almond eyes danced as she took in the room. She was not as endowed as Carista, each breast a generous handful that ended in a heavy black nipple, rather than the overflowing flood Carista possessed, nor was her posterior as round and full as Margase's, but more than either of them, she had an incredible confidence in her own skin.

She had arrived at the Guild for training two years after Garen, having walked three hundred miles out of the Northern Waste to learn, nearly eighty years ago now, and in the last election for Council Chair nearly taken Waldrin's seat from him, and Garen knew he loved her with all his heart, though he'd never said one intimate thing to her in his entire life. His eyes were glued to her as she took her seat to Waldrin's immediate right. To his disappointment, she did not even glance at him, looking instead to Waldrin.

"We can begin now," said Waldrin, waving at Praela, who flipped the massive tome that contained the notes of the High Council's meetings for this year to a new page and dipped her quill in the pot of ink.

"The Guild Spymaster has called this emergency council meeting on a matter of grave importance," the Chair explained. He pulled his whiskers with absentminded worry as he talked. "I will let him explain. Master Garen?"

"Thank you, Master Waldrin," said Garen. "The Guild's agents abroad have reported that there was a grand conclave of the Dragon Clans a few weeks ago. At this conclave, Forg of the Earth Clan was killed."

"What bearing is one dead Dragon chief on the Guild?" asked Bollu. He seemed bored by the Dragon Clan, though they were the East's greatest enemies. 

"As you might know if you paid more attention in these things, Forg was instrumental in opening trade with Coulain. We had hoped to position him and his clan to eventually eat the Sky Clan, once Korth's children were finished murdering each other, and begin reforming the Dragon Clans. However, it appears that Korth's successor, Olene, has put an end to that. Forg's replacement, Alok, is apparently in her pocket."

"If the Dragon Clans had pockets," said Bollu.

"In addition," Garen said. "A week ago we received word that all five Dragon Clans were marching east under Olene's banner. They may be heading to Coulain, as that is closest, but some of our intelligence suggests that they are heading to Tia Joi, and I strongly believe this is the most likely event."

"You think that five Dragon Clans will make a sneak attack on the heart of the Metropolises' military power?" asked Margase. 

"I fear so, yes," said Garen. 

"And what course of action are you recommending?" asked Waldrin.

"High Council, I ask that we agree to commit all the Guild's resources into opposing the Dragon Clans, should they make an attack on Tia Joi. We should recall all Sorcerers to the Guild, and prepare for war." 

"I disagree," said Heldi. Her voice was low and quiet, and she did not meet Garen's surprised stare. 

"Is there something more important than saving the citizenry of Tia Joi from the Clans?" asked Tudon. Before he'd been sent to the Guild, he'd been the brother of the Prince of Tia Joi. The current Princess was his great-grandniece, once removed. 

"Masters and Mistresses," said Heldi. "We are weak. Our magic is fading, and we are many times weaker than when I first joined the Guild. I can see it in your bodies." 

The High Council stirred at this pronouncement.

"We are merely older," said Carista.

"I've always had white hair," said Tudon, grinning.

"No, we are weaker, and if we continue on this course, the Guild is doomed. Even with the knights of Tia Joi on our side, I do not believe we can successfully oppose the Dragon Clan in our current state."

"And what course of action do you recommend instead?" asked Bollu. 

"We should perform another Rite of Renewal."

Tudon openly guffawed, until an annoyed look from Garen shut him up. 

"Those have all failed," he said. Now Heldi looked him in the eye. 

"I believe it is not the Rite's fault, but rather its participants. The Guild has not had a new apprentice in nearly two decades. We are, I regret to say it, likely impotent. I would like the Guild to direct all Sorcerers and their agents to attempt to find a young warlock, who has not aged past her normal lifespan already, bring her here, and have her perform the Rite of Renewal. Or him, as the case may be."

"You'd bring an outsider to perform the Guild's oldest ritual?"

"I consulted the archives before attending this meeting. The Guild has taken such drastic action before, when, after the first invasion by the Dragon Clans, the Guild had failed in its ancient duty to protect Tia Vashil, they brought Kiera the Wilder to perform the rite."

"There is no guarantee we could find such a warlock in time to save Tia Joi. You will be consigning them to the mercy of the Dragon Clans," said Garen.

"I would pay a heavy price now, to save us from paying a heavier price should we fail attempting to save Tia Joi."

"If what Garen says is true, this is unconscionable," said Tudon. "I move for a vote on the matter immediately."

"If it please the Chair," said Heldi, interrupting before Waldrin could rule. "Before you call a vote, I would like to gain the Favor of the Council's Body."

Garen sucked his teeth in frustration. The Favor of the Council's Body was a Guild tradition that echoed back to its primitive origins, much like the Rite of Renewal and the prohibition of concealing clothes during High Council meetings. It allowed anyone to request any favor from the High Council, provided they brought each Councillor to climax first. They had to please each Councillor immediately one after another, though they were allowed to choose how and in what order. If they failed, used magic, or if at any time they reached their own orgasm attempting to induce one in a Councillor, the Favor of the Council's Body would not be granted. It called for a skilled and disciplined lover. 

"We don't have time for this," complained Garen.

"Sure we do," said Carista, openly leering at Heldi. "At least as much time as we do for arguing how to carry out your plan."

"With your permission," said Heldi, and Waldrin waved a hand.

Heldi stood, shedding her robe. Her nipples were already erect and her pussy already swollen, and Garen sighed his relief, even as his prick grew hard watching her. She would surely fail. 

Heldi leaned over Carista, giving her a deep kiss. The two women struggled with their lips for what seemed like an age, and when Heldi lifted her head away, Carista seemed a little put out. Heldi walked around her, then pulled on her chair to the right until it faced Bollu.

"Would you mind facing us?" she asked Bollu. He waved a hand of assent, turning to face the two women. Heldi twirled one of Carista's curls.

"You changed your hair," she said, before moving it away and planting a kiss on her neck. She laid a series of kisses down Carista's chest, before pausing to weigh her tremendous breasts in her hands and play with the small nipples that capped each one. 

As she knelt in front of Carista, she pulled the other woman's robes apart, then lifted each leg over the arms of her chair. Garen saw Carista was shaved clean down below. Heldi paused just at her entrance.

"Beautiful," she told the other woman. She placed a finger on Carista's prominent clit, rubbing in a lazy circle. Her other hand rested on Carista's left breast, giving it a gentle squeeze from time to time.

"Yes..." Carista hissed. Her eyes were closed and her head was back.

Heldi added another finger to her work on Carista's clitoris, increasing the speed, then took her other hand off the great round orb it had been working on. She placed her fingers in front of Carista's mouth. 

"Wet each one," she commanded. Carista complied, sucking Heldi's index finger between her pouty lips first. When every finger on Heldi's hand was slick and shiny with Carista's spit, she lowered it to her pussy, and with a mischievous look, plunged the index finger into Carista, and began to pump away.

"Oh...yes!" cried Carista. She seized her own heavy breasts and began kneading them with her hands. "More."

Heldi complied, slipping her middle finger in on the next stroke. Carista's legs lifted and she began pulling on her left nipple, so hard the skin turned white and Garen was afraid she might rip it off.

"There, there," she told Heldi. "Right there. Don't stop. More."

"MORE," she commanded.

Heldi grinned, not complying, and turned her head over her shoulder. 

"Bollu, fill me," she said.

Bollu ripped his robe off, his cock already hard, and knelt behind Heldi. He pulled her rump into the air, then thrust into her pussy. 

"Oh, my, that's tight," he exclaimed.

Heldi shook, moaned, and then put a third finger into Carista, and Garen looked at Margase for confirmation of what he'd just seen.

"No," she said. Her skin was flush, watching as Bollu pumped into Heldi, and Garen saw she had a hand between her legs, slowly moving. Garen was aching to touch himself as well, but he wasn't sure he'd last, and the people of Tia Joi depended on him not giving Heldi a free point. "She was just reacting. That wasn't anything."

Heldi bent her head down over her work on Carista, increasing the speed with which she was rubbing across the voluptuous woman's clit, and sawing into her pussy with her fingers. Her tongue slipped out and across one of Carista's folds, tasting her sweetness. 

This plus the third finger put Carista over the edge. She gasped, digging her hands into her chest as her back arched, her toes curling in air. 

Heldi pulled her head up, and her fingers out of Carista, watching with a satisfied smile as the other woman writhed in silent ecstasy. 

One, thought Garen, and Heldi began to pump herself back against Bollu's continued strokes. The tall blonde man was attempting to pace himself. He reached a hand down to play with Heldi's clit, but she slapped it away, moving it instead to her waist. That seemed encouraging. Of course she would get one. Carista could never resist a pretty woman's attentions.

Heldi began to shuffle away from Bollu, the two of them still locked at the hips, dragging him with her. Carista pushed her chair back to allow them access, and Heldi clambered across the table until her head was near Tudon's lap. As she pushed his knees apart and freed his cock, long and hard, from his robes, Bollu gave a groan from behind her. That wasn't a good sign.

"Those are my people you are abandoning," Tudon told Heldi.

She nodded, then stroked his entire length with both hands, her tongue chasing them to his groin.

He gasped as she gave his cockhead a fevered licking before pulling it into her mouth. Her eyes were hungry with need, and she looked up into his eyes as she began to bob along his shaft. 

She, Bollu, and Tudon fell into a steady rhythm; every time she and Bollu's hips pulled apart, she devoured more of Tudon's cock. As she and Bollu thrust against each other, her hanging breasts swaying, she would let most of Tudon out of her mouth, one hand jerking along the exposed rod while the other played with his balls. 

"Oh hells and dragon's bells," said Bollu, watching as Heldi's head descended, a muffled moan emanating from the lips wrapped tightly around Tudon. On Bollu's next thrust forward, he grunted and shook.

"Oh, Heldi, fuck," he said, trying to hold still as his hips made small involuntary jerking motions. When he pulled away, he pulled completely out, some of his cum sticking to his cock. He stumbled to his feet and then collapsed in his chair.

"Vash, she's good," he said, smiling.

Two, thought Garen.

Heldi broke off her mouth's attentions of Tudon, one fist pumping him rapidly in its place, a wet smacking echoing through the room.

"Waldrin," she said. "Would you take Bollu's place?"

Garen gave an audible groan. Bollu laughed. 

"That's the right response to not being called next," he said. Heldi merely smiled before placing Tudon's cock back in her mouth.

Proper Waldrin stood, folding his robe neatly and placing it on his chair. As he was preparing himself, Margase whispered something in Heldi's bobbing ear. Heldi paused, again releasing Tudon. 

"Yes," she said. She used both hands to stroke along Tudon's shaft, sucking at his balls.

Margase crossed the table, and knelt behind Heldi, watching as Waldrin took his place at the entrance to the dark skinned beauty's slit. Before he could begin, she leaned forward, taking the Chair in her mouth. After a moment, she let him go, wrapping a hand around his cock, guiding him into Heldi.

Waldrin attempted to maintain his composure at first, pressing into Heldi's already cum-filled cunt with careful, measured strokes. 

"Oh, Vash," he said. "She's-" but Margase put a finger to his lips.

"Careful what you say, love, there are ladies present."

Waldrin nodded, but his pace quickened. On one sloppy stroke, he slipped right out of Heldi, a streamer of Bollu's semen and Heldi's fluid connecting the tip of his cock to her lips. Margase grabbed him again and ran her tongue along his length, licking him clean.

She turned to Bollu when she was done. "Not half bad."

"I was just about to say the same to you."

Waldrin prepared to spear Heldi again, but she closed her legs and pulled away from Tudon.

"Giving up?" asked Garen.

"No," she said. She lay down on the table, so that her hips hung off the head near Waldrin's chair, and her head ended between Margase's and Garen's chairs. She looked at Garen, then turned her head to Waldrin and gestured at her lap.

"Come here." 

The Chair dutifully complied, kneeling in front of her. She spread her legs, and he placed his hands on her thighs. She nodded, and groaned as he plunged into her.

She gestured to Tudon.

"Squat here," she directed, pointing at her chest. Tudon complied, and when his still slick cock was resting on her chest bone, she trapped it in her cleavage, each of her hands pressing a breast tight around him. 




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 05



"Thrust, both of you," she said. Waldrin and Tudon began to pump their hips.

"Margase," moaned Heldi. "On my mouth." 

The red-haired woman climbed onto the table, lowering herself to Heldi's face. The brown woman's tongue snaked up into Margase's pussy, causing Margase to shudder. She began to moan, and grind on Heldi, driving her clitoris into Heldi's chin, her head not that far from Tudon's chest.

Maybe it was that, maybe it was the contrast in sensation between her mouth and her tits, but Tudon lost it.

"No, oh Vash, no," he grunted, pulling up and away from her suddenly, but Heldi reached out and snagged his cock in her fist without looking, pumping it hard. The first spurt rained down on Heldi's neck, and a half dozen others followed along on her breasts and stomach, the paleness of his seed in beautiful contrast to the darkness of her skin. 

When she was sure she had all of it, she let Tudon go reeling away and used her now free hands to stroke Margase's body and clit.

Three, thought Garen. A wet sound off to the side broke his attention from Heldi, and he saw Praela had one hand working between her thighs, even as she recorded all the events for posterity's sake with the other. It was lucky she was not a voting member. Garen wondered how legible the notes for this meeting would be. 

Waldrin was a good sorcerer, and a good man, and he evidently knew the ins and outs of Margase well enough to please her, but Heldi's thighs dispatched his discipline with ease.

"Oh, my, darling, I'm about to cum," he told Margase. 

The red-haired woman leaned forward as far as possible, and Waldrin connected with her for a light kiss.

"Cum, darling," said Margase. "I'm not far behind you."

Waldrin groaned, his rhythm shattered by the first pulse of his orgasm, and he pumped once more into Heldi, before pulling out completely, starring between Heldi's legs as some of his cum followed his exit from her pussy. He stroked himself to the end of his orgasm, depositing more on her stomach. 

Four, thought Garen. 

Margase, who had been watching Waldrin's climax closely, gave a sudden surprised yelp, and struggled to get away from Heldi's mouth, but Heldi seized her ass and Garen shook a little watching the muscles in Heldi's throat rippling as she worked. A succession of "oh's" rained out of Margase's mouth, and Heldi let her go.

Five, thought Garen. 

"It's just you, now, Garen," said Tudon. Garen ran a hand through his hair as Heldi climbed slowly to a sitting position, then slipped around on the table to face him. When she reached him, she cupped his cheek and stared into his steel blue eyes.

"How long have you wanted this?" she asked him.

"Seventy-five years," he answer. "Since I saw you that first day at the North Gate and took you to the Guild."

"I wish our first time together could have been a little different," she said. She bent down and kissed him, and he could taste Margase on her lips for a bit until he lost himself in the softness of her tongue. Heldi stroked his hair as they tangled their mouths together.

"And a little sooner," she said, as the kiss ended. She rested her forehead against Garen's, and her eyes were sad and distant, and she blinked back a tear. 

Now Garen cupped her face, using his thumb to wipe some of the dampness away from her cheek.

"I know you've saved me for last for just this reason, and I know you will gain the Favor today, and yesterday I would have wished the same as you. But today, and tomorrow as well, I will not wish for it any other way."

Heldi slipped from his grasp, running her hands down his chest, kneeling before him, and slipped his entire erect cock into her mouth, and he could feel her throat as she sucked on him. Garen's eyes watered and his chest tightened, but he rode the unearthly warmth of her mouth past the danger until she lifted her head, gasping for air.

Heldi tipped back, dragging him out of the chair to his knees, until she was lying on the table. One hand guided his cock low, and he thrust forward, pumping furiously into her pussy, still sticky with the two men that had come before.

But after only a few pumps Heldi pushed him away, and he frowned in concern. Had he done something wrong?

"Not there," she said. She grabbed his cock again, dragging his hips back to hers. She raised her legs high into the air, knees together, which squeezed some more cum out of her lower lips, and placed her feet on Garen's right shoulder. She shimmied off the table a little, and guided his cock lower.

"There," she said, as his cock, covered with her spit, her juices, and Bollu and Waldrin's semen, pressed up against the entrance of her ass.

"Oh, hells," said Garen.

"Slow, slow," she warned, as he began to press into her. 

He went slower, but steady and watched as Heldi writhed on the table in agony. He slowed down further to a crawl.

"Yes, slow," said Heldi. "Make this last, Garen."

It took him a long time, Heldi stopping him every once and a while to get used to his presence in her ass, until finally he was buried to hilt inside her, her buttocks pressed up flat against his hips. He gasped at how tight it felt, and how hard she gripped him when he began to pull back for his first thrust.

"Yes, harder now," cried Heldi as he began to pump her. She ran her hands across her body, rubbing Tudon's cum into her skin as she did. "Harder." 

"Harder!"

Garen was almost blind with lust as his strokes began getting longer and more powerful. Heldi echoed his grunts on every thrust. Her breasts danced up and down on her chest, and Garen cupped one in a hand for a moment before pulling on the nipple. Heldi clasped her hand over his when he did, biting her lip and closing her eyes.

"Oh, wait, wait," she said. She pressed her feet against his chest, and used the leverage to push off his cock. Garen groaned as his full length burst into the air of the room, but perhaps it was a good sign. Perhaps Heldi had failed.

But she merely rolled over and knelt over the table. 

"Now," she said. "Hard again."

Garen groaned again as he plunged back inside her. She began to rock back against him, in time with his thrusts. Propping herself up with one elbow, she grabbed one of his hands, using it to spread one cheek. She switched to the other elbow, catching his other hand and place it on a breast, wrapping him around her.

When both his hands were accounted for, Heldi sucked on her fingers, then plunged them into her cunt when they were wet enough. 

"Take me, Garen," she said. He could feel her fingers rubbing inside herself and his breath came in ragged bursts as erupted inside her ass.

His first pulse felt like it filled her completely, but there was plenty more inside him. He groaned, the sound emanating from deep down in his belly, and he took his hand off her breast to turn her mouth and feebly attempt to kiss her, licking the corner of her mouth instead.

"Heldi," he whispered. 

Heldi's orgasm followed hot on the heels of his own. She shook and lost her balance on her elbow, and collapsed on the table, dragging Garen down after her, pinning herself against the wood with his cock.

"Oh, Garen. Garen." Her eyes were tightly closed, her body spasmed, her fingers still working her pussy. 

Garen had finally stopped coming, and he rolled her, until they were spooning on the table. She reached up her free hand to stroke his cheek. He stayed buried inside as her orgasm subsided. 

"The High Council recognizes you hold our favor," said Waldrin, after a bit.

"I think we should give her two," said Bollu, and Carista laughed her agreement. 

Heldi opened her eyes and pulled herself off of Garen, his cock coming out of her with wet slurp. She stood, cum still glued to her body, and slipping out of her pussy and posterior. Her body was slick and shiny from the sweat and when she slipped her robe on, it clung tightly to her, like a skin that had found its owner. 

"I request that the Guild follow my recommendations and find a warlock to perform the Rite of Renewal," she said. Except for the heavy breathes she took between speaking, she seemed calm and composed.

"Granted," said Waldrin. Tudon put his head in his hands.

"Thank you," said Heldi. "This has been an enjoyable meeting." She opened the door and exited the council room. Garen smiled, content in watching the sway of her hips as she left, but refusing to move from where he was curled on the table. 

The room fell silent, except for the furious scratching of Praela's quill on parchment.



Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 06



The Canians' "den" was a squat collection of log roundhouses and cabins surrounded by a rude palisade. The trunks of the trees used to construct the palisade wall were stripped of their bark and sanded smooth, but Pol had yet to meet the tree he couldn't climb. However, a pair of watchtowers hung over the gate, and Pol saw a number of guards with crossbows glowering next to torches standing in them.

"Welcome to our den," whispered a playfully familiar female voice next to him, and Pol realized it was the woman who had taken him in her mouth to completion as Kiera had fucked the Alpha back at the camp. In the firelight, he could finally make her out. She was tall, a little taller than him, actually, with a round face and a small mouth. She had a lithe, muscular form, and her short dark brown hair was tatty and unkempt. Naked as she was, he couldn't help but note her high, firm teardrop shaped breasts, each capped by a dark brown nipple. The left breast was noticeably larger than the right. She caught him looking, and laughed.

"Do you like them?" she asked, pushing her arms together, causing her breasts to jut out for better inspection. "I love them." She flicked the nipple of her right breast and beamed with pride when it stood to attention.

"In case you're wondering, this little runt is the best one. It's so sensitive."

"Don't talk to him, Atti," said one of the men.

"Why not?" said Atti. "Everyone saw what Largan did to his friend. And besides, too fucking late, I've already done a lot more than talk to him."

"Cotlar won't like that."

"Fuck Cotlar. No, I take that back, because Cotlar has probably fucked everything that looked like two legs coming together." Atti began pointing out things she saw that she suspected this Cotlar fellow had probably had sex with, including a chicken, two wrestlers with their heads together as one tried to flip the other, and the frame of a cabin's roof, prompting her friends to laughter. 

"Largan as good as gave him to me," she said. "And took the other for himself."

"Kiera?" asked Pol. "Do you know where she is?"

"Get in there, Pol," said Atti, jerking her head as they reached a log cabin with steel bars over the windows. When Pol didn't move, Atti and the man who'd admonished her for talking to him grabbed him by the arms and dragged him inside, throwing him into the corner.

"I like you, but don't be an ass," said Atti, closing the door. "Try to get some sleep. Who knows how long you'll be here."

"Kiera, Atti!" called Pol, running to the window as she walked away from the cabin. "Where's Kiera?"

Atti paused and shrugged. "Largan took her. He probably made a gift of her to Vel."

********

There was sunlight coming through the window, warming the bedsheets were Kiera lay naked, but it was the warm mouth on her left nipple that was causing the heat she felt between her legs, still a little sore from the night's work. The mouth switched breasts, and Kiera's slight moan went on until she took her own hand and took over teasing the now vacated wet nipple. 

The mouth bit her right nipple until it was as hard as the left, and then it too was left to fend for its own until Kiera took matters upon herself. She felt a soft breath on her inner thigh, then a light kiss, just enough to graze the skin, sending a tickle riding along her spine. 

"Oooh," she said, one hand rubbing down her stomach until it found its way to her clit. But another hand grabbed her wrist before she could start to work. She blinked, trying to clear the grog of the morning from her eyes, and saw the short sandy-brown hair of her lover between her legs, and an arm pinning her wrist against her belly.

"Oh, Pol," she sighed. "Don't tease me."

"Okay," said Pol. He kissed her on her lower lips, then plunged his long tongue inside her, licking it up to find her most sensitive folds. 

"Oh, yes, Pol," said Kiera. She wrapped a hand into his hair, pulling his face deeper into his crotch, muffling the words he was trying to speak. She didn't need him talking right now, and eventually he gave up.

She frowned a little. Pol's nose was broken, and she'd always imagined it'd feel a little stubby pressed into her skin. But instead his nose jutted sharply into her. 

Pol, she thought. He'd been at the fire with her. She bit her lip a little, and gave a little grunt, as the tongue inside her was joined by a couple of fingers, crooked and stroking at the top of her pussy. 

And then the fire had died...

Her eyes burst open and she sat up, pulling away from the face between her legs. The tongue came away, but the fingers stayed in her.

"'Pole, pole, pole,'" mocked the woman pumping her hand into Kiera's crotch. "You are desperate for it, aren't you? Well, if you behave yourself, maybe I'll let you have a pole."

Kiera's astonished look caused the woman to stop her work and withdraw, leaving her with a frustrating emptiness. She had short sandy-brown hair and smoky yellow eyes. Her petite form was offset by a pleasant layer of baby fat that still clung to her frame, giving her a fullness to her buttocks as she sat back, if not to her small breasts. She licked her fingers, still sticky with Kiera's juices.

"Largan comes home from the hunt last night raving about the woman he's found, his 'little Kiera,' and 'you have to try her, Vel,' over and over and won't shut up about it, 'I want to see you with her, Vel,' even after I'd gotten him off twice, so this morning while he's still asleep, I decided to come try you for myself, and here you are going on and on about a pole. Not his, I assume?"

Kiera shook her head, keeping mute.

"He'll be so disappointed," said Vel. "Mmm, I can still taste a hint of him in you."

Kiera blushed, remembering how Largan's powerful climax inside her had prompted her third of the night. 

"Gone but not forgotten, though, our Largan, I see," said Vel, watching as Kiera's blush spread down her chest. She reached out and put a hand over Kiera's left breast, feeling the beat of the girl's heart. 

"Don't worry," she said, drawing closer. "I'm not going to hurt you. Largan's bargain stands. I hear you nearly beat him at it, too."

"He told me he cheated," said Kiera, quietly.

"Did he?" Vel laughed. She pressed her body against Kiera's, and Kiera was surprised by how warm her body was. She stared deep into the other woman's yellow eyes. "Well, that's not surprising. He cheated with me, that's why he's the Alpha."

"He cheated on you?"

"Oh, Vash, no. Well, yes, but only because I let him, especially when it's with beautiful women like you. Especially when he shares beautiful women like you," said Vel. Kiera blushed, and Vel began moved her hand down to begin stroking Kiera's left breast. The wide dark nipple began to harden again. "He cheated with me."

"See, I'm the Alpha female," explained Vel. "Top dog among my people. My word is final. But you need to give men some authority, pick a mate, and they generally have their own thing. It's mostly fighting, very machismo, very boring, and after poor old Vonce died it eventually looked like it was going to be between Largan and that vicious prick Mox." Vel's other hand stroked lightly down Kiera's spine, finding a sensitive space just above the cleft of her buttocks that caused her to arch her back and gasp, pushing her body harder against Vel's.

"And I thought that we ought to decide the Alpha male in a better, more fun, way, so I let the two of them decide which hole they'd like, and Mox got my delicious tight pussy, which he hardly deserved, and Largan got my talented small mouth, and whichever came first, they'd lose and the other would become the Alpha."

The hand behind Kiera cupped one round buttock, squeezing, then made a exploratory jaunt to Kiera's slit.

"And, well..." said Vel, finishing her story. "Let's just say that, while I'm excellent at sucking cock, I'm an even better at swallowing cum, and never spill a drop unless I want to, or that horrible wreck of a man Mox would be Alpha and you'd never had had such a fun night in the woods with my mate. And I just couldn't have that."

Vel's fingers made a reappearance in Kiera's pussy, causing her to gasp. Vel began to pump with a deliberate slowness. 

"Now, Kiera," said Vel. "Since Largan cheated, that means you won, and you're not my prisoner, you're my guest. And I should be a generous host, I know, I know, Vash blesses the generous hosts, but I'm feeling very selfish all of a sudden, and I'm wondering if you might instead be a generous guest, and once I'm settled, I'll return the favor."

"Ohhh," moaned Kiera, as Vel pulled on her left nipple. "Yes..."

Vel smiled, pulling her hand from Kiera's pussy. She pulled hard at Kiera's nipples until the bronze-skinned girl began to lean forward. Vel sat in front of her, spreading her legs. She wound one hand through Kiera's hair and pushed down until she could feel her breath on her crotch. 

Kiera didn't need much more prompting than that. She formed a "V" with the her index and middle fingers, spreading Vel's lips apart, revealing the petite Alpha's little clitoris. Her other hand traced a figure eight on the dainty nub, and Vel quivered, and the hand in Kiera's hair pulled it tighter. 

Vel's pussy grew wet and began to leak down her thigh, and Kiera's tongue rushed to lap up the juice. She was sweeter than Kiera had thought she would be, and she turned her attentions to the source, her fingers still working on Vel's clit. 

"Oh, Largan may have been on to something here," said Vel. When Kiera looked up, the Alpha's eyes were closed. Kiera grinned, and realized what the other woman was really thinking about.

"Your man has such a big cock," she said, in between licks. "I could barely fit him in my mouth."

"Yes, it's a problem, because he does so love a good mouth," murmured Vel. She mauled Kiera's breast with her hand. 

"And it was a stretch to even fit him in between my breasts," said Kiera.

"I wish I could've seen that," said Vel. "Mine are so small. Did he like it?"

"He did, but I liked it more. He made me cum three times," said Kiera. "The first time, it was just from entering my pussy." 

Kiera stuck her tongue inside Vel's own pussy to illustrate her point, and Vel moaned. She'd let go of Kiera's hair, and pushed the foreign hand at her clit away, preferring to take over a more furious speed. 

"He pushed me up a tree and had his way with me for the second. And on the third time, I was so exhausted, I didn't think I had another in me," said Kiera. Her own story was beginning to get to her. Her pussy felt damp and she gasped when she slid a hand down to check.

"But I did," she said. "When he came inside me, filling me up with his hot cum, I-"

She had to stop talking because Vel began to buck her hips and she was afraid of losing a tooth to the movement of the wild woman's hips. Vel collapsed backwards on the bed, laughing in delight as another explosion of pleasure ripped through her. Kiera lay down beside her and tried to kiss her, but Vel pushed her face away.

"Oh, Kiera, give me a moment," she said, her chest rising and falling in great waves. "You might kill me if we continue, and then you'd go right back to being a prisoner."

When the moment was over, she pulled Kiera to her and kissed her, then licked herself off Kiera's lips. 

"Mmm," she said. "Now I need to thank you."

Vel pushed Kiera back into the position they'd been in when she woke up, her mouth taking her place at Kiera's pussy again. Her fingers pushed back at the hood over Kiera's clit, and Vel smiled.

"Oh, look at how nice that is," she said, admiring its prominence above Kiera's folds. She rubbed her thumb over it, and Kiera moaned, closing her eyes.

Vel pushed three fingers back into Kiera's pussy, crooking them up against the roof of her pussy. She waggled them, and Kiera began to moan and writhe, closing her eyes. Vel pinned Kiera's right leg under her body for safety. 

Juices began to flow out of Kiera, and Vel moved to catch the hot sweet fluid with her tongue before it could reach the bed. 

There was a musty salt smell under Kiera's nose and when she opened her mouth to groan on the next particularly good stroke, something soft and round and hot bumped up against her lips. She opened her eyes and looked up past Largan's cock into his eyes.

"Good morning, little Kiera," he said. 

"Mmmf," said Kiera, not bothering much with pleasantries, instead taking a hand to guide the head of his cock into her mouth. She swirled the head with her tongue, then began to suck. 

"Oh, Vash," said Largan. "She's very good at this."

"As good as me?"

"No one is ever as good as you, Vel," said Largan. He reached a hand out to manipulate Kiera's right nipple. "But this girl is running second."

Kiera stroked his erection with both hands, and Largan began to thrust a little with his hips, trying to fit more of himself inside her mouth.

"I forgot how hot her mouth was," he said. He groaned, and steadied himself against the wall. 

"Are you that close already?" asked Vel. She straightened the fingers in Kiera's pussy, sawing them in and out of the bronze beauty as her mate let go of Kiera's breast, and wrapped a hand behind her head, pushing her further onto his cock.

"I never took full use of her mouth last night," he explained. "I..."

"Mmmm," hummed Kiera from around his erection. 

"Oh, yes," muttered Largan. He gave one heavy pump, then pulsed slightly as he burst inside Kiera's mouth. With her mouth so full of him, there wasn't much place else for his cum to go except out of the corners, where it ran down her chin and neck.

Vel looked up, watching Largan's cock roil as Kiera continued stroking him with each spurt. Vel stopped one hand in her work. She took Kiera's right nipple between her thumb and forefinger, and pulled Kiera's breast away from the other, squeezing hard on the nib in her hand. Some of Largan's cum made it's way down across Kiera's collar bone, and Vel lapped it up, licking a long path up her neck, over her chin, and to her mouth, where Vel kissed the underside of Largan's cock. The thumb on Kiera's clit was a blur.

Kiera moaned, choked a little, then popped Largan's cock out of her mouth, and came, shouting at the top of her lungs. 

********

Pol woke to the sound of Kiera's distress. He stumbled out of the bedroll. It'd been too hot at night and he'd stripped off his clothes to get comfortable. Another scream pierced the silence of the den.

"Kiera!" he shouted. "Kiera!" 

He stared at the window with the metal bars. If his magic had ripped a knight's armored arm right off, a bunch of iron bars would be no problem, he reasoned. He just had to figure out how to use it.

A third scream echoed, although this one was calmer, and one might say relieved, if you were not Pol confined in a small cabin with iron bars on the window, with no idea what was happening to his friend.

"Fuck it," he said. He lowered his shoulder and slammed into the iron bars, hoping to loosen them enough to pry out with his hands. He shouted and cursed himself when he was rewarded with a bruised shoulder.

The hinges on the front door of the cabin gave out with a moan and the whole thing fell outwards. 

Good enough.

Pol dashed out, heading in the direction of the screams. He was a little surprised to find there were no guards outside and the den seemed deserted. They had seemed to be coming from one of the longhouses, and he dashed to the nearest one, trying the door. It struggled with him for a moment, and he cursed himself for not having his lockpicks with him, but then it popped open. He entered a long dark room with a series of beds. At the far end of it, a tall woman with long dark hair was sitting on the edge of a bed.

"Kiera?" called Pol. He ran to her. "Kiera!"

But when he grabbed her shoulder, he was staring down into the shocked face of Atti. She was naked and had a finger buried to the last knuckle inside her.

"Pol?" she asked. "How'd you get out of your cage? How'd you get into the Women's House?"

"Where's Kiera?"

"With Largan and Vel," said Atti. 

"They're torturing her!" said Pol.

Atti laughed. "Yeah, the sweetest torture of all."

"She's having sex with them," she explained when Pol looked at her in concern.

"Really? But they took us prisoner."

Atti shrugged. "It's lust. It doesn't make a lot of fucking sense. For instance, even though you're my prisoner, and not a Canian, I've been sitting here for the past hour thinking about how good you tasted in my mouth last night, and how deep I want you inside me right now."

The thought of how Atti's mouth had felt in the dark, and the image of Kiera riding the Alpha by the fire, came unbidden to Pol's mind. His cock twitched. 

"I look kind of like her, don't I?" said Atti.

"I..."

"It's okay," said Atti. She squatted in front of him, grabbing his cock. She sucked his left ball into her mouth, then licked up his shaft to the tip, swirling it at the end of her lips. 

"Pretend I'm Kiera," she said, swallowing him.

********

Largan took his cock away from Kiera's mouth, and pulled Vel away from her, causing both women to moan in frustration. He lifted Vel into the air with her back to him, his hands resting under her thighs, pulling her legs apart. Vel reached her hands behind her head, grabbing his neck for balance, causing her little breasts to stretch and flatten, the nipples sticking out like fleshy pebbles from her skin. 

Largan's cock hovered just at the entrance to Vel's pussy. He made a thrust, and it glanced off her, rubbing up past the pussy and against her clit, sending shockwaves across Vel's body. He thrust again, and once again failed to slip inside her. 

"A little help?" Vel asked Kiera.

Kiera crawled to the edge of the bed as Largan squatted down. She took his cock in her hand, and guided it slowly into Vel's body, causing the little woman to moan and shake as her mate entered her. Kiera began to stroke her own pussy, watching Largan and Vel couple before her.

"Oh," said Vel, as she began to bounce in Largan's hands, plunging down onto him with a wet smacking. She turned her head and looked Largan in the eyes. "She's very nice, but sometimes I think it would be happiest to have two of you."

He kissed her, slowing the pace down so they could revel in their passion. Vel let one arm fall off his neck, the hand finding her clit and rubbing in a slow circle. As Vel sucked his face, Largan began to pump his thighs harder again, getting more aroused by her attentions, and the vibrations he could feel from the hand working just above where he was entering her. Their lips broke apart and Vel pulled his bottom lip between her teeth before letting his mouth go with a moan.

"You couldn't handle two of me," he said.

"Certainly not the arrogance," she said, staring down at the sight of her mate's cock penetrating between her legs. She looked over at Kiera sitting on the bed, working a finger into her pussy as Vel was speared over and over onto Largan.

"I know someone who wishes she were me right now," she laughed. 

********

Atti stood up, wiping saliva off her chin from sucking Pol's cock. His erection stood at attention, slick with spit from her work.

"Lie down," she told him. When he was on the bed, she straddled him, and he wrapped his hands around her thighs, trying to pull her up to his lips to return the favor.

"No, fuck you," said Atti, seizing his thumbs and twisting his grip off her. She pulled his left hand around to cup a cheek of her ass and his right hand on her right breast. "Give me that fucking cock."

As she sank down on top of him, his hips rose to meet her, and she took his full length on the first stroke.

"Oh, yessss...it's just as good as I was hoping," said Atti.




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 06



"Atti," said Pol, and yelped when Atti slapped him in the face, pausing in his motion.

"Kiera," she corrected. "I'm Kiera. And don't fucking stop until I say to."

Atti began to grind him as he humped, moaning as she did. 

"The right nipple, Pol," she said. "The right nipple is the best one."

"Like this?" said Pol, rolling the nipple between the pad of his thumb and the tip of his forefinger. He plucked at it and was rewarded when Atti pulled her legs up into a squat and began to bounce on top of him.

He looked down at her as she drove him inside her, and saw that her pubic hair was cut short into the shape of three chevrons, each point facing down. He rubbed the thumb of his free hand across them.

"Men got lost in the dark," explained Atti.

Pol smiled. He pulled at the nipple in his hand. 

"Oh, yes, that's it," she said. "Harder. Harder everywhere."

Pol pinched Atti's nipple harder, and bucked his hips, shaking her. She stopped bouncing and leaned forward, her left breast falling into his face.

"Bite me," she said, and Pol gave the flesh in front of him a nibble.

Atti gave a long groan as she began to cum, then leaned back up, beginning to bounce on through it.

"Oh, Vash, Kiera." Her pussy gripped him tighter in the throes of her orgasm.

"Yes, fuck, Pol, that's my name. I want you. I only want you."

"Kiera, I'm going to cum."

"Yes, fuck, yes," said Atti. "Just don't you dare fucking stop." She reached a hand down between them and grasped his cock.

Pol tried to contain himself, but it was a useless effort, with both Atti's hand and cunt encouraging him not to with their firm grips on his cock. He erupted deep into Atti's pussy, sending rope after rope spurting inside her.

"Cum for me, Pol," said Atti.

"Oh, Kiera!" he cried out.

********

Kiera thought she heard her name being called in the distance, but between the sound of Vel and Largan fucking each other and plowing her own pussy with two fingers, it was a little hard to tell. 

"I should share with our guest, hon," said Vel. 

"Prisoner."

Vel shook her head.

"You cheated."

Largan groaned, and stumbled forward a little so that Vel landed on her knees on the bed, the tip of Largan's cock still inside her. She straddled Kiera, one hand going to join Kiera's at her pussy and another kneading a nipple. The taller woman tilted her head, and Vel kissed her, low and insistent. Kiera could feel Vel's hips moving as Largan thrust into them.

"She promised she wouldn't tell," Largan complained.

"Well, you're lucky she broke it, or this could've taken forever to happen," said Vel, resting her head between Kiera's chin and breast. "Now share with her."

Largan's cock bumped up against the hand in her pussy, and Kiera dutifully removed it to let him in. She groaned as he filled her.

"Doesn't he feel so-oh!" cried Vel, as Largan quickly pulled out of Kiera and plunged back into Vel. She turned her head and bit Kiera's shoulder as Largan gave a couple more thrusts, then withdrew to change pussies again.

"...good?" finished Vel. She felt Kiera's pussy flex as it stretched to accommodate all of her mate as he thrust over and over into her, and she brought both hands to play with Kiera's breasts, eliciting a long moan. Vel licked at the nearest of Kiera's two dark brown areolae.

Largan's strokes into Kiera were becoming more hurried and rushed and Kiera was pushing back to maximize her pleasure from him, her chin sometimes rapping against the top of Vel's head. Vel looked up at Largan, who'd put his hands down on the bed by their waists to steady himself as he thrusted. He gave her a pained look.

"Vel..." he rasped.

Vel kissed Kiera again, shifting her backside so that the cheeks of her ass bumped into Largan's chest.

"Sorry, delicious," she said to Kiera. "This one's mine. Thanks for getting him home safe."

Largan pulled himself out of Kiera and gave Vel one powerful thrust, pushing her down into Kiera's chest. Vel arched her back as he pushed as far as he could go and came inside her. 

"Oh, hells, I can't believe we don't do this more often, if that's how you feel about it," said Vel, feeling him pulsing out his cum inside her folds.

Largan just groaned wordlessly, convulsing as Vel's pussy drank him down. Kiera reached out a hand to stroke at Vel's clit.

"Oh, yes, that's nice," said Vel. She let out a contented sigh. "A little faster, please."

Kiera's increased the speed of her strokes, and Vel began grinding her clit harder against Kiera's hand. 

"I'll do it," said Largan. One hand grasped Vel around the neck, and he tilted her head back until he could smother her lips with his mouth, while his other hand went to work on her clit with rapid, powerful strokes. It wasn't long before the little woman was writhing as she came, one hand trying to free the Largan's grip on her throat, the other attempting to pull his cock deeper inside her.

When Largan released her, Vel dragged herself off his cock with a reluctant sigh.

"All good things," she whispered. She turned to the woman beneath her. "Now Kiera, my dear, what can I do for you?"

********

Pol and Atti sat together naked by a campfire, picking apart a roasted the remains of a roasted chicken with their fingers. Pol's fingers and face were a mess of grease, and Atti grinned at him, leaning over to lick some of it off his chin. He smiled.

"We've been eating salted beef for, like, two weeks now," he said. "I mean, I'm not exactly used to three squares a day, but I'm wasting away out here."

"Yeah, to skin and one big bone," laughed Atti. 

There was a creak of metal behind him and Pol turned his head. Kiera stood a little ways away, dressed in her dragon jade armor again.

"Hello, Pol," she said. She gave Atti a suspicious glance, and the tall Canian waved at her happily.

"Where are your clothes?"

"Um, back in the cabin they're keeping me in."

"Keeping you in?"

Pol looked at Atti and she laughed.

"I escaped," he explained.

"And I see you got pretty far," said Kiera, looking at the lack of distance between him and Atti. "Well, turn yourself back in and get your clothes, so we can go. I've got Blade and Brady saddled, and Vel tells me we're not too far from Tia Vashil now. A day or two."

She spun around on her heel and trudged away, Pol gaping after her. He looked at Atti, who was chewing on a chicken bone.

"I don't guess I get it, Pol," she said. "I'm a much better Kiera than that woman is."



Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 07



NOTE: This chapter features an exhibitionist involved in a reluctant gangbang. If that's not your thing, you might consider skipping this chapter or reading up to that part, as this chapter establishes the character of Princess Fione. Everyone else: I hope you enjoy!

******

In the throne room at the Tower of Joi, the massive fortress which had watched over the city of Tia Joi for nearly a millenium, there was room for just over five thousand young knights to gather when summoned by their Princess. And Princess Fione vai Joi loved to call them to muster, watching from her golden chair on the dais while the exquisite youth of the city filed into the room in front of her.

But now the vast majority of the five thousand knights who had ridden out nearly two days ago were lying on the battlefield, waiting for Vash to sing them to the Heavens, the rest scattered to the wind by the Dragon Clans, and there was this naked bitch sitting in Fione's throne as she stood to attention to the left.

The bitch's hair was jet back and long, but it was pulled together and lifted by a single green ring, which Fione realized must be dragon jade, sitting on the back of the top of her head, so that it seemed like a massive horsetail that rose out of the top of her and fell down to her waist. She had a number of dragon jade bracelets, armlets, anklets, and a circlet on her head worked into the shape of a dragon devouring a crescent moon, the ancient symbol for Vash the Sky Dragon. Her heavy breasts sat auspiciously on her bare chest, each one capped by a long dark nipple pierced with dragon jade. Fione could not help but compare the woman's breasts to her own. The Dragon Clan bitch's were bigger, but not by much, and they lacked a great deal of the perk. Her skin was tanned and a little weathered as well, where Fione's was porcelain white. Fione had also become a fan of trimming the platinum blonde hair between her legs back a bit, a stark comparison to the hair sitting over the seat of the throne now, which appeared to have been cut only to allow better access to her clit, but otherwise left to grow.

Three large men stood to the bitch's right. The closest was the largest, his chiseled body dotted with scars, his hair long, his head unadorned with jewelry except for that which had been tied into his hair. A massive dragon jade cleaver hung at his waist, and even under the circumstances, Fione grew a little hot staring at his other weapon, the massive cock which swung below his waist. His name was Varomar, and Fione despised him.

The other two were shorter (and smaller where it counted) and carried a sword and an axe respectively, but each wore a dragon jade circlet similar to the bitch's, and held themselves with a slightly more regal bearing than their massive compatriot. The one with the circlet worked into a dragon coiled around a mountain had his head shaved. He seemed ill at-ease, and Fione recognized the same jitters of early rule that had marked her first years reigning over Tia Joi. 

With no knights left, the crowd was composed of the various nobles and dignitaries who had flocked to Tia Joi under her rule. Most of Fione's suitors had had the good graces to at least arm themselves and trudge off to war, but a few of the poets and artisans who had no chance of winning her hand, but had sometimes talked or painted their way into her bed had stayed behind and Fione felt a twinge at seeing them there. She had no intention of being immortalized in verse or on canvas in a position of weakness. 

"People of Tia Joi," the bitch began talking. She unfolded her legs, which Fione noted with satisfaction were shorter and less shapely than her own, giving the entire court an excellent view of her cunt and the dragon jade piercing sitting just above her clit. "I am Olene, daughter of Korth the Grim, Chieftain of the Sky Dragon Clan, and your new master."

As if that needs to be said, thought Fione. Dragon Clan warriors stood all around the edge of the throne room, and more stood blocking the door. It wasn't like there was much evidence supporting any other conclusion.

"Your princess has surrendered your city to the Chiefs of the Dragon Clans, and out of gratitude and respect for her wisdom in doing so, we have spared her life."

Fione folded her arms beneath her breasts and her nostrils flared in anger. Varomar had been carrying the head of General Okkian vai Farrow when he'd appeared on horseback at the gates in the early morning, announcing the defeat of Fione's army and promising to behead the entire populace should she choose to defend the city against Olene's army. Seventy thousand Dragon Clan warriors, plus at least twice that many in their thralls and camp-followers, against the old men, old women, and children left behind when the army had gone marching out to meet them. And no word from either the Exarch of Tia Vashil or his masters in the Guild of Sorcerors had been forthcoming. She'd ceded the city to Varomar, and wept when he threw the grey-bearded head of old General Okkian at her feet. The House vai Farrow had served House vai Joi for nearly one hundred years as Marshals of the Metropolis, and Fione felt his loss deeply.

"Your princess has also decided to swear her allegiance to the Clans, a decision we have decided to accept..."

Fione's frown deepened. Olene had made clear her intentions to hold Tia Joi for the Dragon Clans, to make it the capital of their new empire, and that the Clans were perfectly willing to cleans the city of the Joians, should they not receive her unconditional obedience. It was had been less negotiation than dictation, and for a woman who'd hardly had to negotiate prices of grain with merchants, Fione had not accepted the process well. But at least they had sworn on their dragon jade not to harm her subjects.

"...provided she demonstrate her new found friendship here in open court," finished Olene. 

"Have I not done that?" asked Fione.

"Perhaps you may have as you are familiar with, but since you will be our thralls, I expect you to show the obedience a thrall might for their master - by making yourself available for our pleasure."

"Is that how these dogs swore allegiance to you?" asked Fione, gesturing towards the three men to Olene's right.

Olene's lips curled. "Of course not. Varomar is my brother, and Alok and Rooth are fellow chiefs. They are allies, not thralls like you."

"Hard to tell one of your allies from one of your thralls." 

Olene glared at the Princess. The bitch was clearly put out by being defied in open court, and Fione tried to think of a way to exploit it, given her current predicament.

"You will be used for my pleasure and that of my allies here," said Olene. "Or my warriors shall use the blood of your subjects to paint the walls of this room." 

"How dare you?" sputtered Fione's chamberlain. "Our princess has done everything required of you, and now you seek to degrade her in front of her people?"

"Given her reputation," said Olene. "I had thought it an appropriate request."

Fione's chamberlain became unintelligible in apoplectic outrage and Fione put up one hand to end his muttering. She did have a reputation. Princess Fione vai Joi unabashedly loved sex. She had ever since she'd teased a handsome groom too far in the stables one day and been richly rewarded for it. Her father, the then-Prince, had punished her, and thrashed the groom before dismissing the poor boy, but it hadn't been too long before thrashing and dismissing servants who had carnal knowledge of his daughter would have left him saddling his own horse, cooking his own meals, and washing his own hall, none of which he'd known how to do. It had been far easier, and cheaper in the long run, to hire a decent apothecary and a number of talented servants who would keep her safe, out of trouble, and satiated.

When she'd become Princess in her own right following her father's death, it had more or less been open season on the eligible youth of the city. Fione was one of those women who fell quickly in and out of love, and it distressed her councillors to no end when one of her favorites fell into disfavor and had to replaced with whomever new had taken their place. 

"Please, Lord Chamberlain, I appeal to you to not invoke our invaders' wrath. Compared to that which I asked of our soldiers two days ago, Chief Olene asks a very small thing of me today."

"Who shall I begin with?" asked Fione, running her eyes over the men.

"Me," said Olene. She placed a hand between her legs, spreading the lips of her pussy. "Start with me."

Fione had no particular use for women. From time to time, she enjoyed them watching her in the act. A few of her conquests had requested another one to fill her bed, which, depending on how well the man had pleased her, was either granted or rejected, but she'd never desired a woman, and certainly never provided one with pleasure. 

She knelt in front of the throne, and shuffled forward on her knees towards Olene. She placed a finger on the dark-haired woman's clit, manipulating the ring piercing back and forth, slowly.

The bitch seized a rough handful of Fione's hair, dragging her head closer. 

"Use your mouth, Princess," she said.

Fione kissed at Olene's inner lips, sucking one into her mouth. For such a cold, condescending woman, Olene was warm and sweet down below. Fione lapped at the other woman's pussy, then hesitated for a moment. 

"Don't stop, princess, you are mine," purred Olene. Fione buried her face in Olene's crotch. She had always enjoyed it when men had played with her clit and licked her at the same time, and her hand resumed its activity on the Chief's.

"Oh, yes," hissed Olene, closing her eyes and stroking Fione's head. It occurred to Fione that her technique mattered much less to Olene than her subservience. The woman barely responded to a change in pattern of Fione's tongue on her pussy or a shift of the dance of fingers on her clit. Her other hand found its way up Olene's chest, rubbing at one of the woman's breasts. 

"Good, good." Olene took her hand away from Fione's hair, using it to maul her other breast. "Uli."

As Fione worked, she watched as the little thrall made her way to the throne. Olene reached up, cupping the woman's cheek, and drew her lips down, pulling them into her own. Uli's hand stroked her mistress' stomach.

Olene stretched up one leg, wrapping it over Fione's shoulder, allowing her closer access, and she renewed her tongue's assault on the woman's pussy, plunging it in and out.

"Oh," said Olene. Her eyes opened and she pushed Uli away. Both her hands slipped into Fione's hair, dragging her as close as possible. "Do that more."

The princess' jaw was threatening to clench, but she attempted to speed up her tongue anyhow. The hand on Olene's clit was a blur now, the other pulling hard at the bitch's long pierced nipple.

Olene pulled Fione away.

"Who is your master?"

"You are," coughed Fione, gasping at air while she had a chance.

"And who am I?"

"Chief of the Sky Dragon Clan."

"Yes," sighed Olene. She pushed Fione's head down into her pussy once again, and shivered slightly as the princess began working with her mouth again. "Good."

"Good," she said again, the shiver growing.

"Good," she hissed, her hips roiling as the wave of pleasure from her climax rolled over her. She kept Fione's mouth locked on her pussy as it gushed with her cum, spilling into the princess' mouth and across her chin. 

When she was done and had released Fione, the princess sat up on her knees.

"Who shall I please next?" she asked. 

"Mistress," corrected Olene.

"Who shall I please next, mistress?" spat Fione.

Olene smiled. "I have no intention to embarrass you for any longer than is absolutely needed." She looked at Varomar.

"Has Aren or Cillen returned?"

"They and their clans are still hunting survivors."

"Kili curse them," said Olene. "I had hoped to have you enjoyed by all the chiefs together, but I suppose Sea and River will have to wait. Varomar, Alok, and Rooth will have to do."

"Prepare her."

Varomar stepped forward, seizing Fione by the arms and pulling her to her feet. He turned her to face the crowd, and reached both of his massive paws around her body to the front of her dress. He gathered a great deal of fabric in each hand, and then pulled.

Fione's fine silk dress gave out as Varomar ripped it apart. Her breasts, their small, bright pink nipples proud and stiff from her work with Olene, spilled out into the air, and goosebumps pickled their undersides. Varomar kept ripping, the thin material separating over her navel and then revealing her crotch, until finally it had pulled apart all the way down to the hem, which gave out with a small pop. She tried to cover herself with her hands, and Varomar ripped apart the sleeves of the dress, one after the other, before moving on to her panties, discarding the wreckage at the floor of the dais, leaving her nude before her court.

"Uli," said Olene, gesturing. The little thrall ran and seized a heavy clay jug from where it was sitting near the throne, and then struggled to lift it over Fione's head. Varomar helped her.

Oil ran down Fione's body, turning her long hair into wet whips, and down across her breasts, stomach, back, ass, and legs. 

Uli handed the remainder of the jug to Varomar, who poured a little oil into his hand, then stroked his long cock with it, passing the jug to Alok, who did the same before passing it on to Rooth. All three men had begun to harden, and Fione saw their cocks stood at attention as they all focused on her. Varomar stepped up behind her, a paw seizing each of her wrists and pulling them away from her body. He used one foot to press her stance wider.

She gasped when a hand touched her pussy, and then when another circled the most sensitive part of her backside. She looked down and saw Uli was rubbing her body, distributing the oil as evenly as possible into every fold of her skin. After a moment, the thrall stepped away and nodded. Olene waved at her brother.

"Oh, Vash!" cried Fione as Varomar held her wrists tight above her head with one hand and placed the head of his cock in her ass with the other. She groaned as he pushed way deeper inside her, not fast, but not slow and certainly not gentle, either, until his hips pressed against her buttocks. 

"What do you think of the rumors?" Olene asked.

Varomar grunted. "True."

He began to sink down to the dias, pulling a moaning Fione with him, until he was laying down and she was sitting atop him, his cock buried to the hilt in her ass. His knees tucked under her thighs, pressing her legs wide apart, revealing her cunt to the crowd.

She heard gasps, and there was a commotion near the front row of the crowd. When Fione looked, she saw her poor chamberlain had fainted dead away. 

Olene waved at Alok, and Fione glanced in surprise when the Dragon Clan chief squatted before her, vigorously stroking his cock. One hand mauled her breast. He looked down, then plunged himself into her pussy.

"Dragon's bells!" moaned Fione in shock, prompting more surprised gasping from the crowd at their Princess' language. Her eyes rolled back as both cocks filled her, and she fell against Varomar's chest. Both Alok and Varomar started to thrust into her, causing her to moan and gasp whenever their rhythms matched in such a way that they were at the deepest inside her at the same time.

Fione had been introduced to the pleasures of two cocks at once by a very amusing and very insistent adventurer who had practically begged her for weeks to make a go of it. If he had not been so handsome and such a skilled lover, she never would've have allowed it, but as it was, they'd found a willing young knight once the adventurer had proven letting him have her ass would be a worthwhile time for her. And she'd had sex with witnesses before, but they'd been playmates, temporary peers. This was different. There were two men having their way with her before her subjects. On the rare occasion she'd appointed a favorite to a position that required them to attend her at court, she'd sometimes have fantasized about forcing them to disrobe and take her there in front of all her subjects. It had excited Fione just to think about it and she'd often cleared the court early when the desire had grown too great to contain and she'd worried about losing decorum.

The real thing, despite the circumstances, aroused her greatly. She reveled in the taboo, in the shame of being so exposed but the part of her that worried of the lasting implications of such an act was lost among the thrill of the knowledge that thousands of eyes were trained on her as the two men used her body.

A hand reached at her head, turning her face to the side, and Fione glanced up at Rooth kneeling beside the three of them, before reaching a hand out to stroke his cock. She let one finger stroke down his shaft, then cupped his balls, juggling them in her fingers while he drew nearer, until he was close enough that she snared the head of his cock in her mouth and sucked gently at it.

Rooth groaned as Fione shifted her body to lean out and pull more of his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth. Her tongue rolled against his cock.

Fione pulled her head back suddenly, using both hands to stroke Rooth while she looked Alok directly in the eyes.

"Faster," she ordered, then turned and pulled Rooth back into her mouth, one eye watching Alok.

The shaved headed man grunted, and grabbed Fione's hips, pulling her a little ways off Varomar, then shoving the cock in her pussy quicker into her. Fione's breasts began to roll back and forth on her chest in time to his strokes. She hummed around Rooth's cock.

Rooth gasped. He wrapped both hands around her head, slamming his length into her mouth. Fione kept her humming going, and stretched a hand around to grasp at Rooth's ass, encouraging him on to more.

Rooth shook and he held her head still as he began to cum, spurting inside her mouth. Fione swallowed it as it came. When he'd finished, she placed a hand on his stomach and pushed him away, where he fell to the dais, panting. She rolled back to her old position on Varomar's chest, so that she could look Alok directly in the eyes. 

Sweat was dripping down his head, off his brow into his eyes and onto her stomach, glistening from the oil. Fione lifted both her arms to her head, smiling as Alok watched as her breasts lifted slightly off her chest in response to the movement of her shoulders. He saw her smiling and caught her gaze.

"Harder," she ordered, her tone laden with a heavy disappointment bordering on anger.

Alok grunted as he tried to comply, pushing himself faster and deeper into her.

"Harder," said Fione again. She moved her hips slightly in time to the pumping in her pussy and ass. Her pussy muscles clenched, giving Alok a gentle squeeze.

"Oh, fuck," said Alok. His thrusts became frenzied and his grunts began to blend together. Fione was shaking, her head bouncing against Varomar's chest.

"Harder," she commanded Alok once again, stretching each syllable into its own word.

With a roar, Alok tore her from Varomar's cock, lifting her up into the air against him as his knees bent to maintain the balance, his hands holding her under the knees, lifting her body from him whenever he pulled back to renew a jab. Her breasts pushed up against his face and neck and she hooked her arms around his head. Eventually, she began to flex her legs, lifting and lowering her pussy in time to the thrusting of his cock.

"Harder," she whispered into his ear and grinned as the chieftain began to cum inside her in response, swearing to Vash and cursing as he did. 

"How disappointing," said Fione. She looked back over her shoulder at Olene. "The men of Tia Joi had no problem bringing me pleasure, and yet this chief of the Dragon Clans has no ability."




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 07



Alok began to kneel as his orgasm subsided, and Fione stepped away from him, his cum dripping down her thighs. 

Olene's nostrils flared and her brow knitted together. She glared at Alok, before turning to look at Fione.

"They're not there for your pleasure," she said.

"No?" asked Fione. She paused over Varomar, his cock erect, still glistening with oil, and considered his size. Without prompting, she lowered herself over Olene's brother, drawing Varomar back into her ass. She drew herself up until she was sitting over him, her hands steadying herself on his chest behind her.

"I thought you had the three of them attempt it at once because you knew I'd never be pleased with just one. Is your brother a fierce warrior?"

"The finest in all the Clans."

"I have heard," said Fione, beginning to bounce up and down on his cock. "That once a woman tastes a Dragon Clan warrior's cock, or takes it inside of her, no other type of man in the world can satisfy her again."

"The prowess of the Clans in all things is known in every corner of the world," Olene stated bluntly.

"And yet, I fear it's a myth," said Fione, as she took Varomar even deeper into her body. "For I've had two of your warrior's cocks, and a third in me at the moment, and all I am thinking about is the next time I'll be lucky enough to enjoy a man of Tia Joi between my legs."

She felt Varomar begin to pump back against her again, going rougher in response. He barely even grunted as he worked, and when she looked back over her shoulder at him, she saw he was staring at her with a dark intensity. His hands gripped her wrists holding her in place as he filled her again and again.

Fione broke his hold, pulling herself to lean up over his knees, bouncing harder and harder on her own power. Varomar was much stronger than she had anticipated, and his cock was so large it felt a bit like he was splitting her open. And there was still the wild joy of knowing that the entire court was watching and listening as she tried to take her pleasure from the Dragon Clan warmaster. If she was being honest with herself, she was not sure she was going to win this little game. But as losing was not in her nature, she began to jeer a little more.

"How sad," she gasped as she bounced. "That I. Have to. Do all. This work. Because he. Can't go. Harder!" 

Varomar grunted, then seized her hips, stopping her motion. He pulled out of her and flipped her onto her chest, the marble of the dais cold against her breasts. With his hands keeping her waist lifted into the air, he plunged back into her ass.

Fione moaned at his speed and force. He was pinning her against the marble, and she used one arm to cushion her head against the onslaught.

"I'm so close!" she moaned. "So close! I'd get there if you'd only go harder!"

Varomar's grunts were coming quite loudly now as he drew on the last well of strength and she was a little concerned that he might break her neck keeping this pace, but she needn't had worried. The adventurer who'd been the first to take her ass had once told her it was the most heavenly place in all the world to be, better even than being in the presence of Vash, which he also claimed to have done. 

Varomar shouted as he came, and Fione gasped to feel how hot his cum was inside her. She pushed herself forward until he slipped out of her, still spurting, a rope falling over her back. She rolled until she was facing up, Varomar still moaning as his cum came pouring out of him, over her back, ass and thighs and she slipped a hand between her legs, working on her clit.

She had hardly been joking when she'd said she'd been close, and if Varomar had managed to hold on, it would have been a very near thing, because it took Fione a few hurried seconds to get herself off, her moans echoing off the walls and columns of the throne room as she came, her free hand stroking one breast, never breaking eye contact from where Olene sat brooding on Fione's throne. She shuddered and writhed on the dais in front of her people and the gathered troops of the Dragon Clans.

Fione grinned in the afterglow of her climax, drawing herself up from the tile. "Well, the men of Tia Joi have little fear of the warriors of the Dragon Clans seducing their wives."

There was tittering from the crowd and a bit of nervous laughter and Olene's face contorted with rage.

"That will be scant comfort to them when they are dead."

"Better for them to die as men than live as whatever passes for such in the Dragon Clans," spat Fione. "Besides, you swore on your wretched jade not to harm my people." 

"It would not be honorable," rumbled Varomar as he rose to his feet.

"You killed a man in Conclave and talk to me of honor," spat Olene.

"In defense of my chief." Varomar's voice was calm and measured. "These thralls are property of all the Clan, not only the chief."

Fione was rewarded when Olene began to pull at her hair in frustration. "Take her away," she commanded a pair of warriors. "We'll decide what to do with her later."

The two warriors climbed the stairs, and Fione was gratified to see they both sported what looked like painful erections. 

"Perhaps we should let these two attempt to demonstrate the prowess of the Dragon Clans," she called.

"Get her out of here!" Olene screeched, and one of the warriors dragged Fione to her feet, but she shook them off from carrying her further.

"I'll go," she said, and stepped down the dais ahead of them. The crowd parted to allow her access.

The nearest man prostrated himself on the floor. "Princess!" he cried. Behind him the lords and ladies and the burghers and their wives, fell to their knees in bows and curtsies, the hall echoing in calls of "Princess!" and "vai Joi!" Someone passed a lady's long shawl along and Fione wrapped it over her shoulders like it was a sash of state, providing her the smallest of dignities at least. Hands pressed out, and Fione touched a few of them before the guards drew their weapons to discourage it. 

The throne room had become filled with an ungodly din, as the citizens were stamping their feet and shouting "Tia Joi!" as Fione strode out of the throne room. The doors sealed with a great crash, and Fione could hear Olene shouting for silence. 

She paused for a moment, quaking, then slipped down against the wall.

"Vash help us," she murmured, the rough hands of the guards lifting her again to her feet.



Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 08



Pol slipped quietly through the second floor of the Dancing Sorcerer. His back was complaining as he kept low and careful, watching how he distributed his weight across the floorboards, careful to prevent undue creaking. He heard a maid coming along the corridor, and he softly pried open a door and stepped inside the room.

The fleshy pale moon of the tavern keeper's ass greeted him, rising and falling with a series of grunts. Pol realized that there was someone underneath the bulbous man. He sighed with relief when her alabaster arms revealed she wasn't Kiera. He didn't think Kiera would have accepted such a deal from the tavern keeper in exchange for her rooms, anyhow, but he had hustled her above the main hall so quickly, Pol hadn't had a chance to determine what his intentions were.

"Oh. Yes. Please. Faster," a voice emanated from below the tavern keeper's bulk. It did not sound particularly convincing to Pol, but he supposed that at a certain point, one's cock did not need much more than the motions of a commitment, and the tavern keeper certainly began grunting in a frenzy in response to the voice. Pol heard the footsteps of the maid passing by the door, and he made a hasty exit from the room, crawling on his hands and knees.

There was light in the last room of the hall, and some splashing of water, and Pol thought he heard a voice singing. He snuck closer, and sure enough, Kiera's voice was singing gently to herself. He tested the door to see if it was locked, then took extra care in turning the knob gently enough she would not hear as he slipped into the room.

Kiera was sitting in a copper tub, steam rising from the water, one shapely leg extended as she ladled water over it to wash the soap away.

"'Oh my beauty,' said the thief to the maid," she sang. "'There's many a price I'd never think to pay.'"

Pol slipped closer, and one of Kiera's hands lolled over the edge of the tub as she used the other to ladle water over her chest.

"'For almost everything in a thief's life is free, my sweet.'" 

Pol was almost close enough to touch her, and he reached out one hand for her shoulder. 

Kiera's sword raised into the air and pressed up against his throat.

"'But for you, my sweet, I'd gladly pay you both my feet,'" finished Kiera, and she grinned at Pol. She'd twisted around in the tub, and Pol glanced down the blade of her sword, which led his eyes down to the wide brown nipples on the end of her chest. He glanced up into her green eyes, which watched him with amusement.

"Shave your legs?" asked Pol.

"As you can see, I've got a blade myself already, so I'm good," said Kiera. She draped one leg over the tub, and Pol could see that it was indeed quite smooth.

"Seems like that would be sort of unwieldy for shaving," he said.

"I'm quite handy with a sword." Kiera sniffed at the air, her nose wrinkling and her face souring. "Vash dammit, Pol, you stink."

"Some of us..." said Pol. "...were not led by the owner to the finest room in the establishment, but were instead instructed, as we had no coin, that we would find much more suitable lodging in the stable with the horses." 

"And then did some of us decide we ought to roll around in the horses' shit?"

"That was an unexpected perk of my accommodations, yes."

Kiera placed her sword on the floor, and stood up. Pol's eyes traveled the length of her body as she rose, water running down her legs in rivers, and stepped from the tub.

"Well, I need you clean today. We're only a few hours from Tia Vashil. The only reason we didn't go on was that it was late and my parents would have spent all morning accusing me of slipping back home in the dark of night."

Pol looked from the tub to Kiera as she toweled herself off.

"Get in, Pol," she said.

"Turn your back?" he asked, and was rewarded with a bark of laughter. 

"You never once turned your back for me," she said. "Fair's fair, Pol, take your clothes off. I'll watch."

Pol turned around himself, stripping off his shirt, breeches, and belt. Now if only he could make the tub transport itself in front of him. A warlock should be able to do that, certainly. He paused for a second, trying to will the tub to appear on the floor before him.

Nothing happened.

He sighed, and turned around. He was already a little stiff from looking at Kiera and was a little unnerved when her eyes took in his cock and she bit her lower lip.

"Very nice," she murmured as he took refuge beneath the water in the tub.

As Pol began cleaning himself, she gathered his clothes and opened the door.

"Master Flovius!" she shouted. The fat man came bustling out of his room, his shirt hastily tucked into his breeches. He took one hungry look at Kiera's nude body, then averted his gaze like it might burn his eyes out.

"Clean these," said Kiera, thrusting the bundle of clothes at him. "Then dry them over the fire. We need to depart soon."

The tavern keeper glanced at Pol's soiled things, then at the thief in the tub.

"I'm sorry, Lady Kiera, but we have a very stringent policy about visitors in our guests' rooms."

"He didn't stay the night," said Kiera.

"Nonetheless," said Flovius. "Unless you are married, I'm afraid I must ask him to leave."

Kiera looked down with disdain, folding her arms beneath her breasts, lifting them slightly. Flovius' stare broke from the floor to find its way to her chest.

"I suspect you'll make an exception for me," she said. "Or I suspect no one will do business with the Dancing Sorcerer ever again."

"Of course, Lady Kiera," stammered the fat man.

"Good. Then clean the clothes, dry them, and return them to me. It would hardly do if my companion stank of horses." 

"N-no, Lady Kiera," said Flovius. He knuckled his forehead, smudging a bit of filth there.

"Oh, and Master Flovius," said Kiera. "When you return, I expect your gaze to confine itself either to my eyes or the floor."

She closed the door. 

"Why does he call you 'Lady Kiera?'" asked Pol.

"Well, 'Sir Kiera' would be a little rude, don't you think?"

"There were a half-dozen knights down there, and they all had to pay for their rooms. He evicted the tenant of this one for you, and you don't have any money at all."

Kiera shrugged. "Some people are just nice to me."

"And that threat you made sounded serious. Like you could actually ruin his business."

"That's why people are so nice to me. Because they know what could happen if they weren't. Are you clean?"

"Not yet."

"Do you need help?"

"Couldn't hurt." 

Kiera knelt on the floor beside the tub. 

"Where's the brush?"

"I bumped into it a moment ago."

"So you're going to make me root around in the water for it? I don't think so."

"Oh! Here it is! I was sitting on it."

"As I thought. Lean forward."

Pol stretched forward, and Kiera began scrubbing his back.

"I always liked that song," he said.

"Which song?"

"The one about the thief who marries the girl."

"I've always hated it," said Kiera. She stopped scrubbing, and ladled water over his back. It had begun to cool since he'd entered it and he shifted his back in response.

"Why?"

"Because, it doesn't give two shakes for the girl. Okay, so the thief comes in and sweeps her off her feet and then what? Lean back."

Pol leaned back in the tub, as Kiera began to scrub at his chest. He had a loose collection of hair that clung to the top of his body as the brush and the water attempted to dislodge it.

"Happily ever after?" he suggested.

"Hardly. He's a wanted man, after all. She's married a criminal. What happens when the Guard catches him? She doesn't work. And the last verse makes it very clear he's gotten her with child, so it's going to be a hard scrabble life for her from then on in."

"Maybe he's a good thief. Maybe the Guard doesn't catch him. Ow."

Kiera was scrubbing at his ear with the brush. She rose up on her knees a little, squeezing in close to get at the other ear on the far side of his head. Her breasts nestled against his face and he turned and looked into her green eyes. 

"Why were you singing it, then?"

Kiera gazed down at Pol, considering the sharp angles of his face as he stared up at her from between her breasts.

"I remembered it last night, and couldn't get it out of my head," she said. 

Pol turned his head, capturing one brown nipple in his mouth and sucked.

"Oh, Pol," Kiera gasped. The brush slipped out of her hand, deflecting off Pol's shoulder before clattering to the floor. She stroked the ear she'd just been scrubbing. Pol's hands ran along her body.

"I can't stop thinking about you that night in the woods with the Canians' Alpha," he whispered as he released her nipple from his mouth. 

"Largan. How much did you see?" she asked.

"Enough. I saw you riding him after you'd cum," he said. One of his hands had found her right breast and was cupping it. The other had begun to travel between her legs. "I heard the rest. I was so jealous."

"He's married," said Kiera. Her hand stroked his chest. "Or whatever passes for married in Canians."

"You had sex with him the next morning," accused Pol. Fingers danced around Kiera's pussy and clit, never quite making contact and she shifted a little, trying to encourage them to settle down.

"His wife was there. I was a toy to them. I...it had been a while since I'd been with anyone Pol," said Kiera. Her hand reached below the surface of the water. "The woman I saw you with?"

"Atti. She looked like you. She made me call her Kiera."

"Oh." She gasped as a finger pushed inside her, and her hand found his cock beneath the water, his erection hard and upright, and she pulled gently on it.

"Kiera, I couldn't help myself," Pol told her as they both began to stroke each other. "She was so willing, and it's so easy for me to imagine you, I've been thinking of you forever, since we shaved in the river, at least."

Kiera's grip on his cock had become firmer and she lowered her head, whispering. "When Largan had his way with me, he told me you could hear us, and I came thinking of you listening. And I kept thinking about you and that girl at the farm where we got Brady."

Pol released her breast, wrapping his hand through her hair, drawing her face to his, and poured his tongue into her mouth. Her breasts were pressed into his chest, and he added another finger into her pussy as she pumped on his cock. 

There was knock at the door.

"Lady Kiera?" came Master Flovius' voice, high, reedy, and timid through the wood of the door. "Your friend's clothes are ready."

"Vash damn him to the hells!" cried Pol as Kiera lifted away from him. She was flush and her lips were wet from their kiss. She covered her mouth with her hand and looked at him in silence.

"Lady Kiera?" came Master Flovius' voice again.

"Don't answer it," whispered Pol. "Stay with me."

Kiera smiled at him, but she shook her head.

"We have to go, Pol," she said. Pol slapped the water in frustration.

*****

Pol sulked almost all the way to Tia Vashil, and it wasn't until they were practically in the shadow of the city's massive walls that he forgot himself and gawked. 

"They must be a thousand feet high," he said.

"I think it's more like two hundred, but, yes, they're quite tall. They were built by the Guild when the Sorcerers first came to Tia Vashil."

The daily flux of the city was flowing in and out of a massive gateway, patrolled by a large contingent of the ever-watchful Guard, their lamellar armor lacquered a deep blue. Nearly two dozen carts were waiting to get inside the city, and Kiera and Pol were far from the only travelers in the queue. 

"What are they looking for?" asked Pol.

"The Exarch has set quotas on certain items that might be considered contraband in a place like Lowvale," explained Kiera. "Clan Leaf, for instance, and certain types of alcohol, like dragonwater. And, of course, the number of women and men who may work in the city's brothels at any given time. The Exarch's Office grants a number of licenses for people allowed to sell these things and in what quantity, and the numbers get adjusted at the beginning of each year based on what the books say about usage in the previous years. That way the Exarch can make sure that what would be a crime in another city is pursued in Tia Vashil in relative safety."

"Of course, that doesn't mean people don't try and smuggle those items in anyway, rather than go through the licensing process. So the guard is pretty thorough. They shouldn't bother us though, we don't have a cart."

"Well, this is going to take us forever. And you made us skip breakfast again."

"Your idea of breakfast was beer."

"And now I have to wait in a line sober as a dog."

"Shut up, Pol," said Kiera. But the corners of her mouth hinted at a grin.

It seemed like hours before the last cart lumbered forward into the city and a young Guardsman beckoned them forward.

"Business in Tia Vashil?" he asked.

"You're searching travelers now, too?"

"That's the order, miss."

"Lady," corrected Kiera, and the Guardsman gave her a skeptical look. "We're not merchants. And we're clearly traveling light. What are you looking for?"

"Lady, is it?" The Guardsman looked at Kiera appraisingly. "Never had to search a lady before. Would you mind dismounting and taking off your armor?"

"I will not."

"Well, your ladyship, we'll have to insist. Tia Joi's fallen to the Dragon Clans, and we've got orders from the Exarch to make sure no Clan saboteurs make it into Tia Vashil."

Kiera gasped and Pol blanched. Tia Vashil could boast the home of the Guild, but Tia Joi was the crown jewel of the Metropolises. Its loss meant that the center of learning and art in the East had been captured by savage nomads so backwards they didn't even wear clothes.

"What are you talking about?" asked Kiera. "How could the Dragon Clans capture Tia Joi?"

The guard ignored her.

"Come on, dismount. Don't worry, I won't bite," he said, grinning.

"I might, though," said Kiera, her tone deadly serious. 

"Ah, a fierce one," laughed the Guardsman. He turned to his fellows. "Well, we know what to do with fierce women, don't we, lads?"

The "lads" didn't answer, their faces sober and wooden. The Guardsman looked around for some support, and was perplexed to find none forthcoming. One of his friends came up to him and whispered something in his ear.

Pol watched in fascination at the complex range of emotions that sped across the man's face. His confusion increased for a moment, turning into disbelief, then paled into an ashen fear. He threw himself at the ground.

"Forgive me, Lady Kiera. I have never seen dragon jade before, I'm new, I didn't know it was you," he cried. "Please don't tell the Exarch." 

"And let him know what sort of scum inhabits his precious Guard these days?" answered Kiera, snorting. "I wouldn't dare. If I hear of you attempting to molest travelers again, it'll go hard on you, though. Resume your duties."

"Er...thank you?" said the Guardsman. 

"Come, Pol," said Kiera, spurring Blade into the city. Behind them, he could hear the other Guardsmen laughing at their comrade's misfortune. 

"Who the in the hells are you, anyhow?" he asked Kiera.

"Kiera the Wilder," she answered, her face not moving a muscle. Pol searched her eyes for the joke.

"Really?" he asked, when none was forthcoming.

"No, not really. Vash, you're gullible. She was Kiera the Wilder." Kiera pointed. 

Pol looked up, past the huddled houses of the city of Tia Vashil, up to the sheer wall of a marble cliff that oversaw the city. On top of the cliff was a massive tower was huddled on the edge, but carved into the face of it was a gigantic relief of a woman, nude save for a strategically placed band of leaves that appeared to be agitated by some modesty-minded blast of wind. She was standing on the neck of a nude man, while in front of her a dragon reared in shock and surprise as lightning burst from her hand.

"Bit much," said Pol, after a long period of gawking.

Kiera laughed. "She did save the city. This way, Pol." He turned Brady around the right way as they plodded through the circuitous narrow alleys of Tia Vashil, winding their way up towards the hill.

Everyone knew the stories. When the Dragon Clans had first come streaming out of the West, determined to take the Metropolises the Guild of Sorcerers had been weakened, and the armies of Tia Vashil had been broken on the field. Five warriors had held the gates alone against the entire horde until finally Kiera the Wilder, the only good warlock in any story, had come out of the Guild Rock, calling down even the sky to fight on her behalf. She died on the battlefield, killing the last of the Western dragons, and the Guild had raised the five defenders up, creating the Five Noble Families of Tia Vashil. The Five Noble Families chose one of their number to serve as Exarch, ruler of the city for the Guild. When the old Exarch died, they chose again, and so on and so forth for over eight hundred years.

"Are we going to the Guild Rock?" asked Pol.

"No, I thought we'd do that tomorrow, unless you're dying to become a sorcerer," said Kiera. 

"Not particularly." 

"Well, then, I thought we'd go to my family's house instead."

"Where's that?"

"Oh, just up there," said Kiera, gesturing to the area near the Guild Rock. Pol looked at the buildings, half of which were palatial complexes, with sturdy walls and expansive grounds. 

"Who are you, again?" he asked.

Kiera just smiled and spurred Blade to a quicker pace. 

They stopped at one of the larger estates. A grand avenue, lined with juniper trees and a grass median to divide the traffic, led them from the street to a gatehouse, where the guards, dressed in green lacquered lamellar, their surcoats woven with a circle of dancing gold gryphons, raised their spears in salute to Kiera as she passed through the gate and headed to the manor house. 

A pair of grooms were waiting to take their horses, and Pol was surprised by the insistence on which his took Brady's reins.

"He likes apples," he informed the boy as he dismounted.

"Yeah...they all do," said the groom, leading Brady away.

"What about peaches?" called Pol.

"The same!" shouted the boy.

Everything in the manor was made of marble and to Pol, who used front doors infrequently, it felt brazen to stride in past the grand wooden behemoths that passed for doors in this building, more guards in the green-and-gold gryphon livery holding them open for him and Kiera. She paid no mind to the guards or the various statues and detailed engravings of flowers and birds and fish that trimmed the walls and rode the bannisters of a grand staircase in the center of the massive hall that put Pol to gawking.

A man was marching down those stairs as they came in. He was not much more than fifty, Pol guessed, with a some midnight black color still lingering in his hair. His eyes were green and his skin bronze like Kiera's, and a carefully trimmed beard framed his mouth. When he saw the woman in front of him, he smiled.

"Hello, Kiera," he said. Kiera knelt on one knee before him, head bowed, until he pulled on her shoulders and kissed her forehead.

"Hello, father," said Kiera.

"And who's your companion?" asked her father.

"This is Pol Burr, of Lowvale," said Kiera. "Pol, meet Ked vai Ullan, Exarch of Tia Vashil."

Pol threw himself to the floor. 

"It's an honor, your majesty," he told the nearest marble tile. 

Ked laughed.

"Stand up, boy," he said. Pol rose back to his feet, a little confused.

"I'm not, 'your majesty,' Pol," Ked explained. "I'm the Exarch of Tia Vashil. I merely keep the city managed for the Guild. That doesn't entitle me to any majesty. More the opposite, it affords me a great deal of headaches. Never bow to me. No man in Tia Vashil need scrape to any other. If there were no Five Noble Families, the entire city would be on equal ground."




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 08



"Kiera just knelt."

"I'm a knight, Pol, we have more formal rules regarding authority figures."

"Oh."

"Now, Pol Burr of Lowvale, how'd you come to be in the company of my favorite daughter?"

"Your only daughter. I was attacked in Lowvale, and Pol here rescued me."

"More to the truth, your maj - sir, your daughter here rescued me when I was attacked."

"So you rescued each other?"

"Close enough," said Kiera with a shrug. "Pol was being chased and I foolishly took on a mounted knight while on foot. Pol here is a warlock. You might not have a daughter, if not for him."

"Well, I'm not sure about that," said Pol. "I'm actually a -"

He paused, and considered the man he was talking to.

"A thief," Kiera finished his sentence for him. 

"Ah," said Ked. "Another one of my daughter's strays, then. Who was it the last time? A pirate, wasn't it?"

"A privateer."

"Indeed. A licensed pirate. But what was her problem? She didn't own a boat?"

"Ship."

Ked's face was grim with dismay, but his eyes were shining with delight.

"As you can see, Pol, my daughter has a habit of collecting people with problems." He paused.

"Did you say warlock?"

"Yes, he separated the knight from his arm."

"I don't think it was me," said Pol. "I've never done magic before in my life."

"That is curious," said Ked. "Most magic adepts begin to show signs around the same time they start growing hair on places other than their heads."

He paused and stroked at his greying beard, eyeing Pol up and down.

"The reason I ask, Pol, is that you've arrived in Tia Vashil at a rather auspicious time. The Dragon Clans have taken Tia Joi."

"How did that happen, father? Has the Guild been defeated as well?"

"Well, that brings me to why Pol being a warlock caught my attention. When I asked when we would bring the armies of the Five Nobles and the Guild to join with the knights of Tia Joi, the High Council informed me that all available manpower would go towards locating a male warlock younger than 50 or a female warlock younger than 30. They neglected to explain their reasoning, as they so often do, or under what circumstances they arrived at that conclusion. So far we've had no luck, even scouring the countryside. How old are you, Pol?"

"Well, I'm not sure of the exact year, to be honest, but I'm not older than 24." 

"We should take him to the Guild."

"Can't that wait a day, father? Pol's never been to Tia Vashil before. I'd like him to enjoy some real Vashili hospitality before the Guild makes him an acolyte."

"If you insist," said Ked. "I can't fathom how an untrained sorcerer will be of any pressing use to the Guild, so we'll take him in the morning, does that agree with you?"

"Thank you, father," said Kiera, kissing him gently on the cheek. Pol smiled at the visual of the armored, warlike Kiera performing such an affectionate act. 

"Tau is here. Escorting his sister in her quest to corner Jin into a marriage proposal," Ked told her.

"Oh," said Kiera. She glanced briefly at Pol and blushed. "I haven't seen Tau since before I left."

"Well, he's here a lot, waiting for the opportunity to see you again. We've always more guests than we need. Elina vai Tischer is here as well, trying to compete with Vatya." 

Kiera looked a bit overwhelmed and Ked's eyes were smiling again.

"Why don't you go upstairs and find something more appropriate to wear for supper," he said. "I'll take care of Pol and make sure Tau doesn't hear you're here until you're ready."

"Thank you, father," said Kiera again, ascending the grand staircase.

Ked beckoned for Pol to come with him, and they followed Kiera until the top of the stair, where Ked turned left when Kiera turned right. They went down a long corridor until Ked appeared to choose a door at random, opening it up into a bedroom with an antechamber.

"A servant will bring you a tub and some water for a bath, and some clothes for dinner. You're a little taller than Jin and you're certainly thinner than I am, but we'll find something, I'm sure."

"I've already bathed today," said Pol.

"In my experience, Pol," said Ked. "There are very few times when people do not appreciate a freshly-washed man, even if he has already cleaned himself once in the day. When you're ready, just keep going down this hall to the dining hall."

Despite the size of the building, the servants were not long in coming, lugging in a copper bath and hot water, and bringing him a fine satin doublet and a pair of of leather breeches. They even matched his thin-soled boots with a set of fine deer-hide ones.

Cleaned and dressed, Pol ventured out of his room. As he walked down the hall, the sound of a woman's voice giggling drew him to a room just at the top of the stairs. 

Two women and two men were playing billiards. Or, rather, the two women were, and the men were offering their advice. One man was a burly, long-haired blonde man with piercing blue eyes and pale white skin, a little taller than Pol, with a clean shaven chin that looked like it'd started life on a marble statue before being transplanted to his face. The other was clearly another member of the House vai Ullan, with the characteristic black hair, bronze skin, and green eyes, shorter than Kiera though, and while clearly in shape, not the collection of muscles the blonde man was. He was bent over a comely blonde, who save for her diminutive size and delicate form, could've been the female equivalent of the blonde man. Sitting off to the side was delightfully curved woman, though perhaps not as much as Vatya was. Her auburn hair was cut into an a-line bob, her skin tan and her backless dress cut down the front to her navel. She held a cue in one hand and drank wine out of a glass goblet with the other, watching the vai Ullan man and the blonde impassively.

"Hello?" asked Pol.

"Hello, my father's not taking requests from citizens today," said the vai Ullan man, looking up from where he'd enveloped the blonde woman and was showing her how to line up a shot so that her cue ball would hit her opponent's and then the object ball to score a point.

"Oh, no, I'm with Kiera," said Pol.

"Kiera?" asked the blonde man. "Is Kiera back?"

"Well, we just rode in an hour or so ago," said Pol.

The blonde man strode over to Pol, seizing his hand and shaking, the grip so strong Pol was afraid his fingers had traded places on his hand.

"Tau vai Keller," he introduced himself. "That's Jin vai Ullan, Kiera's younger brother. The hopeless incompetent he's teaching to play billiards is my sister, Vatya. And over there is Elina vai Tischer."

"Pol Burr."

Jin and Vatya merely nodded, but Elina detached herself from her chair, placing down her wine, and slunk over to Pol, extending a hand.

"A pleasure," she said.

Once upon a time, Pol had played at lords and ladies with the children in his neighborhood, and he knew that when a lady extended her hand, you took it, bowed low, and kissed it, which he did now.

Elina laughed at him.

"So formal," she said. "Neither of you lugs ever greet me with such pomp and circumstance."

"The novelty would soon wear thin, I think," said Jin. He turned to Vatya. "Now, my dear, if you adjust the cue..."

"Is that the stick?"

"Quite. You can place it around on the ball, and influence its motion."

"I think I know my way around a stick and balls," said Vatya. She wiggled her rear against Jin, who said something that remained inaudible to the rest of the room, and put both of them into a fit of lewd laughter.

Elina snorted in disdain, and returned to her seat to fetch her wine goblet. 

"Then," continued Jin with his lesson. "You want to strike the object ball -"

"Which is that?"

"The red one. And you'll try bounce it off that ball to strike Elina's cue ball as well, and then you'll have a point." 

Vatya gave a meager attempt at tapping the cue against the ball, sending it bouncing against the object ball, but sailing away from Elina's cue ball.

"This is a hard game," complained Vatya, standing back, nestling against Jin's chest. 

"My turn?" asked Elina, taking her place when Jin assented. She barely glanced at her shot, before banking her cue ball off a rail, where it collided with the object ball, bounced off another rail and struck Vatya's cue ball. 

"One," announced Elina. 

Pol found himself entranced as Elina moved around the table, and he knew both Tau and Jin were too. Her dress was made of a slinky shiny scaled material that clung to the generous curves of her body, and no matter where she took her position at the table, an observer could not be disappointed, whether they were getting an eyeful of her cleavage, sculpted backside, or the bare skin of her shoulders and deep chasm of her spine as she leaned over the table. A complicated tattoo of morning glories twined down the center of her back. Vatya grew a little impatient when she saw how Jin's attention had wandered to Elina, but as long as Elina controlled the table, there was nothing the blonde woman could do. 

She was up to twenty before bell rang out, apparently summoning them to dinner. 

"Well, I guess we know who won that round," said Jin. Elina smiled at him, but Vatya seized his arm before Elina could speak.

"I need an escort to dinner," said Vatya.

"It would be my pleasure," said Jin, following her lead as she dragged him out of the room by his elbow. Tau had already hurried away the moment he heard the bell.

"Well, Pol," said Elina. "It wouldn't do for me to arrive unescorted either. Do you have a companion for dinner?"

"Not as such," he said, proffering his elbow. Elina took it and smiled at him.

"There, now we're both working together."

"You play billiards beautifully," said Pol, as they walked down the hall. Elina seemed to know the way, so he let her lead.

"Do you mean I'm beautiful when I play billiards or the game appears beautiful when I play it?" she asked, and laughed when Pol sputtered to come up with a response that offended neither the quality of her beauty, nor the quality of her play. 

"Thank you, Pol," she said. "Whichever way you meant it, you're very sweet."

Pol had never been in a grand dining hall before, and the high ceiling, with an array of golden chandeliers, left him gaping. Only one end of the large banquet table that stretched the length of the room was set, with just enough places for the guests. Ked was holding the hand of a regal looking woman a few years younger than himself, who was introduced to Pol as Lady Trali vai Ullan, Kiera's and Jin's mother. Lady Trali gave him a polite smile upon hearing he'd been Kiera's traveling companion, and her gaze made him shift uncomfortably, like he was standing on a giant scale.

"There you are," said Tau, loud enough that everyone could hear, and the entire party turned to gaze at the staircase. 

Pol's breath caught in his chest. Kiera was no longer arrayed in her armor, but instead wore a purple dress, with the sleeves cut short near the shoulders, the upper body form fitting and the collar hugging half way up her neck where it was bound by a green silk choker with an emerald set in the middle that matched her eyes. The long, shoulder length crest of hair had been cut, so that it was now only half again as long as the rest of her hair, and she had purposefully mussed it all until it looked like a jagged bed of rocks. The dress itself had two deep cuts, one for each leg, and when she moved she revealed a tantalizing glimpse of her thighs and the bottom of the gentle curve of her ass beneath the samite of her dress, like a cat stepping out of shadow. 

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Tau swept her into his arms and kissed her, tilting her back in his embrace. He seemed to catch her by surprise, and for a moment it seemed as though she was attempting to push away from him. 

Something in Pol's face as he watched the burly blonde man kiss his traveling companion must have hinted his feelings to Elina for she jabbed him in the ribs and kept him from staring rudely for too long.

"Are they..." he began.

"Together? They're as close to engaged as you can get without saying the word," said Elina.

Pol didn't know what to feel. He hadn't imagined Kiera was just a knight errant, wandering the world unattached and unbound by a home and responsibilities. Of course she had a family and a home, and people waiting for her, a lover included, and while he'd felt something and knew she felt the same, they'd never really talked to each other about it. A part of him knew that coming to Tia Vashil had always meant that Kiera would go back to her old life, and Pol would become a Sorcerer, and that would be that. Still, after the inn that morning, it stung to see her wrapped in the arms of another man. 

The Exarch coughed slightly but with meaning, and his wife seized his beard and waggled his head for interrupting.

"I'm sorry," said Ked. "But I fear my empty stomach lacks the patience of my heart. Please be seated, and Kiera and Pol can regale us with stories from their travels."

*****

Pol turned out to be hopeless at ever becoming a noble. The servants who served the meal, which Pol was surprised to learn was not solely the stew that was served first, but instead an endless host of courses, would wordlessly switch whatever utensil he'd selected for whichever one he was supposed to have used. Elina and Jin laughed each time they did, while Vatya just frowned.

Kiera and Tau had been seated opposite each other, closest to the Exarch and his wife, at the head of the table. Their siblings sat next to them, and Pol was placed next to Vatya, while Elina had scored a minor coup of being placed next to Jin, opposite Pol. 

At the head of the table, Kiera and the Exarch were debating the merits of the Canians, with Kiera feeling they had been misrepresented and the Exarch suggesting they were little more than bandits. Kiera neglected to tell her father the particulars of her and Pol's friendship with the wild men, and without this information, the Exarch posited that the who of the race was inscrutable. Still, he allowed that they might be redeemable.

At Pol's end of the table, Elina barely touched her food, one hand clearly in Jin's lap, her shoulder moving back and forth, all the while interrogating Pol on his background. Jin smiled quietly to himself, attempting to work his food around the attentions of his neighbor's hand.

Vatya fumed next to Pol. Her fork went clattering to the floor, and when a servant knelt to retrieve it, she kicked it under the table and put up a hand to stop the man from following it.

"I'll get it," she said, disappearing beneath the tablecloth.

A few seconds later, Elina gasped and withdrew her hand. She sucked on her finger, then took it out to examine it closely.

"The bitch bit me," she whispered, when Pol's quizzical look caught her attention. 

Jin looked very pleased with himself, and when Pol snuck a glance under the tablecloth, he saw Vatya was on all fours between Jin's legs, and guessed at what she was doing down there.

"Was this Lona girl very pretty?" asked Elina, her gaze confined to Jin's lap.

"I think so, yes. The prettiest in Lowvale, if that means anything."

"She must have been, if you were willing to rob a knight to lay with her."

"I'm embarrassed to have told that story in this company," said Pol.

"I think it's romantic," said Elina. "Like that song."

"Oh yes, the one about the thief and the maid," said Jin. He was eating with a fork in one hand, while the other hand had disappeared beneath the table, his arm moving slowly up and down. "Kiera hates that song, don't you?"

"What song?" asked Kiera, her attention wandering from her parents to the other end of the table.

"The one where the thief steals all that money so he can pay the bride price of the maiden instead of giving her his feet. What's it called?"

Kiera shot Pol a look and he shook his head, trying to deflect blame. 

"I don't hate it," said Kiera. "I just don't think it's realistic."

Jin laughed. "Oh, come on, Kiera. It's a song. It's a short story with a weak plot set to music. It's not supposed to be realistic."

"Nonetheless."

Jin turned back to Pol and Elina. "She doesn't like any music that's not about a knight killing something or someone. Been that way since she was a little..."

He paused in the middle of his speech, grunted, pushed forward as close to the table as he could manage, and quickly reached for his wine goblet, which he proceeded to sputter into. Both Kiera and Elina seemed concerned, pounding him on the back to help clear whatever was causing him distress, though Pol noted that Elina put very little effort into her blows.

"Thank you," managed Jin. "That was a near thing."

Vatya reappeared in her seat, rubbing her lower lip with her thumb, before reaching for her own wine glass and taking a sip, swirling the liquid around in her mouth before she swallowed.

"Um, father," said Jin. Both his hands were in his lap, and his arms shifted as he no doubt did up his laces. "I think something about the food has disagreed with me. I think I might take a walk in the air of the garden to help me digest."

"Fine, fine," said Ked, waving a hand.

"I'll keep you company," said Vatya.

"I would be delighted," said Jin. The two of them rose and left the hall arm in arm. Elina rested her chin on one hand, frowning after them. She drank deeply from her wine goblet.

Pol looked to his left where Tau was telling some mildly bawdy story in an animated fashion, his arms waving about the place. Kiera was smiling at him from across the table, laughing whenever the story allowed. With Elina lost in her own thoughts, it seemed everyone had forgotten about Pol, and while, in places this rich, that was usually for the best, at the moment it stung. He was lost and alone here. When the servants came to clear away the used dishes, he gently rose and left with the man who took away his plate. No one seemed to notice. 

Unlike Jin, Pol really did feel a need for fresh air, so he followed the path Kiera's brother and Vatya had taken, trailing down a hall until he found a glass door that opened onto the garden.

The grounds of the House vai Ullan were massive, with a rolling field where he could see the horses grazing, a pond with a small island gazebo in the center, and a bridge to it from the land. At the center was a large green hedgerow maze. 

Pol wandered down the marble staircase, into the maze. The hedgerow was a mass of smooth vines, and wide, heart-shaped leaves, their edges jagged and toothed. There were places here and there that had grown unevenly, and Pol saw the whole thing had been planted around a series of wrought iron trellises. 

He heard a woman's moan, soft and low, from his left, and followed the path through the maze in the direction of her voice. Turning a corner, he came to an arched opening in the side of one wall of the maze and saw Jin and Vatya.

Jin's breeches were bunched about his ankles and Vatya's dress was hiked above her waist, and the neck pulled down below her chest leaving her pale white breasts free and bouncing as Jin drilled his cock into her on a bench.

Pol stepped back in embarrassment, but not so far back as to lose sight of the lovers. Just enough that his presence was undetectable by them.

There was a rustle of leaves that made him jump a little, and Elina slipped out of the shadows of the hedgerow.

"Spying on Jin and Vatya, thief?" she asked.

"I..." 

"Don't worry, Pol, I won't tell. They're very fine, aren't they?"

On the bench, Vatya and Jin had traded places, so that she was on top of him, grinding her pussy against his cock, her hands gathering her hair above her head while Jin squeezed a buttock in each hand.




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 08



"Are you disappointed?" asked Pol.

"That he's not fucking me? A little. That Vatya thinks she's won Jin's hand? Not at all," said Elina. "I'll tell you a little secret, Pol. Jin has no desire to ever get married."

"Then why are you and Vatya here?"

"For women like Vatya, they are a little game he plays. They attempt to persuade him with their mouths, and breasts, and cunts, and Jin in turn pretends to consider their arguments. For women like me, it's little a game we play with Jin, pretending to be lovesick suitors like Vatya, desperate to win him to us with our bodies, but in reality all so we can use his. The trouble with being from one of the Five Noble Houses is that the pool of Noble men is so shallow. And Jin is one of the better lays."

Elina moved in front of Pol, ostensibly for a better view, and reclined her body against him, pressing the swell of her ass into his hand, her bare back resting against his chest, her hair a few inches from her nose. She smelled of lavender perfume.

"Why not find someone from outside the Five Nobles?" he asked. His hand cupped a firm, round buttock, and she shifted slightly to allow him a better grasp. 

"And risk causing a scandal should my maid catch some moneylender's son in my bed one morning? No, I think not, though it may come to that someday. A pity for Jin here. I would've shared him with Vatya, if I'd gotten there first. But a woman like her is after a husband, and will jealously guard him."

"Why should a moneylender's son be a scandal? The Exarch told me no man bows to any other in Tia Vashil."

"The Exarch speaks of the city as he wishes it to be, not as it is. The Five Noble Families are above the rest."

Jin said something to Vatya, causing her to leap off him and fall to her feet, and he stood over her. She grasped his cock, angling it down at her chest and pumping on him. Jin gave out a grunt and began to cum, spraying over her breasts, the milky seed practically invisible on her porcelain skin.

Elina brushed a hand against Pol's crotch, feeling the hardness that had developed in his breeches. She smiled and turned to press her lips against Pol's ear. Her breath was hot as she spoke.

"Come, thief, let's leave them to it and find our own place to be alone."

She turned and wandered away, stroking once at Pol's bulge as they parted, and he watched Jin and Vatya for a second longer before turning after her.

The maze turned and turned again and again and as Pol followed Elina, he became less and less sure he could navigate his way out if necessary. Eventually the hedgerows gave way to a wide open square, the grass a bright green, with a large circular marble fountain with a wide lip. In the center were statues in the shape of five dancing gryphons, water pouring up out of their mouths into the massive pool below.

Elina stepped out of her shoes, leaving them at the border where the grass yielded to the fountain's marble base, and sat on the lip, streaming a hand through the crystal clear water babbling gently in the basin.

"You know, Pol, I used to have this dream where a thief would steal into our house through the window in my room, and I'd catch him, and then he'd...have his way with me. Do you think that's a strange dream?"

"On the way here, a person told me lust doesn't make any fu...any sense," said Pol, remembering what Atti had told him. "And I know my dreams make little sense me."

"Well, I think it's strange. I've heard of women who use their servants to reenact such dreams, but I never have. I like a bit more verisimilitude to my fantasies."

"I don't know what that means."

"Like the real thing," said Elina. "A real thief."

She reached up behind her neck and undid the knot that held the straps of her dress together and kept her modest. The top half of the dress folded down around her waist and Elina watched Pol stare as her breasts, not small but not large, either, with their wide pink areolae, were freed. She lay down on the wide lip of the fountain, letting the stone of the marble, hot in the sun, warm her back. 

"Would you sneak into my family's house, Pol?" she asked, beckoning him with one crook of a finger.

"Does your family have much treasure?" he asked, his hips drawing close to her head.

"There's me," said Elina.

"That would be enough," he said.

"Would you climb in through my window?"

"If I knew which one it was."

Elina had reached for his breeches, running her hands up and down his thighs, and he stroked her cheek before running his hand across her neck to cup a breast, running his thumb over the short squat nipple at its cap.

"I'm sure you'd find it eventually," she said. "In the summer, I always leave it open."

Her fingers found his belt, undoing it, and then his laces, where the slender digits quickly removed the thin leather strands from consideration. Loosened, his pants grew slack and slipped down his legs, bunching at the top of his boots. 

Elina placed a hand on his cock, watching as it pulsed in response, warm in the sun, warmer even than the marble on her bare back. She stroked her middle finger along the center of the underside, and watched the shivers run along Pol's spine as she traced her way to the sensitive head.

"Wonderful," she murmurred. Her hand closed on him as best she could, dragging him the final distance towards her mouth, but stopping before she swallowed him. He could feel the warmth of her breath on him, and she began to stroke him, watching him the whole time.

"In the summer, I sleep in the nude," Elina whispered to his cock, but she stared up at Pol as she spoke. "And I think, thief, that you would see me there, and be overcome by your desire. Would you ravage me, then, thief?"

"Immediately," said Pol, and was rewarded by the steamy embrace of Elina's lips around his cock. She eased him into her mouth slowly, her eyes closed as if savoring a fine dessert. The softness of her tongue found him, and he groaned as she ran it around the head of his submerged cock. His hips moved without thinking, trying to speed her along, to force more of himself into the head, and her eyes shot open, a look of slight annoyance on her face. She placed her other hand on his torso to direct him, and he groaned again as she continued on in her previous pace, but increased the pressure of her mouth ever so sweetly.

To distract himself, Pol leaned over her, his left hand running down her stomach, slipping under the scaly material of her dress. Elina wore no underwear and the fine plump mound just above her pussy was cleared of all hair. He worked a finger inside her, and then another. Elina arched her back, the movement pushing more of Pol's cock into her mouth, already full with him, and when Pol plunged a third finger into her body she moaned around his length. 

Elina's cheeks had hollowed with her efforts, her mouth straining to accommodate the entirety of his cock. Pol's fingers stroked her walls, coaxing ripples of pleasure through her body. His other hand kneaded the soft pillow of her generous breast, and she moaned whenever his fingers found both the rough ceiling of her pussy and the sensitive pink nib that sat at the end of her chest as the same time. 

Pol's fingers slipped back out of her, and Elina's eyes opened again with a baleful glare for interrupting her pleasure. He grinned down at her, hooking his thumbs under the shiny material of her dress, dragging it further down her body. EIina lifted herself off the fountain a little ways, allowing Pol to undress her further, and he smiled at how bare the space was between her legs. He shed his doublet, and stepped out of his boots. 

*****

Kiera wandered the house, searching for Pol. He'd slipped away from dinner unnoticed, and she was curious where he'd gone off to. When she'd descended the staircase, she'd caught his eyes tracing her body, watching her legs appear out of the slits in her skirt, and thrilled a little at the prospect, the morning still a fresh memory. 

A messenger from the City Council had arrived, summoning the Exarch to his duty, and her father had departed almost immediately, breaking up the meal, which was when Kiera had noticed her thief was missing.

Her mother had kissed her welcome, then left to barricade herself in her personal library as she was wont to do. When Kiera was seventeen, she'd infiltrated the library, only to discover that most of the tomes were salacious in nature. She'd question her father about it, as he bought his wife the most books, and he'd only replied with the then cryptic response that it pleased him to have a pleased wife.

Jin and Vatya had come in from the garden, both looking a little disheveled, both flush and out of breath, with the claim they'd been racing the maze. Neither Kiera nor Tau believed it, but Tau had finally departed with his sister in tow.

Tau. Five years ago, he'd put Kiera on the ground in the final round of the vai Tischer House Tourney. He's been a nice boy, then. Nicer still when he visited her in her tent, to check on her injuries. And even that much nicer when he'd shed his clothes to join her in the bed there. 

But five years had turned him from a nice boy to a somewhat dull boy.

She slipped into her father's library. She doubted Pol was there. Hells, she wasn't even confident the man could read. But the large windows gave an excellent view of the grounds, even beyond, to the plains that separated Tia Vashil from Tia Joi. She knew her father kept a pair of field glasses in the room, so if the idle fancy took him he could spy on the gardens (which is how he'd known the perpetrator was her when, during their childhood, Jin had complained that someone had pushed him into the fountain) or gaze out on the world around the city.

Kiera located the glasses on a table near the window and glanced out. If she were a thief, where would she be? The horses? Pol was not there. Her eyes traveled to the gardens. She doubted Pol was the type to be enchanted by the flowers, or stroll the bridge to the gazebo. As she fixed her gaze over the maze, a movement pulled her attention to the fountain. She trained the field glasses on it.

"Oh," she gasped. Pol and Elina were both naked, with Elina lying on the lip of the fountain. Pol was on all fours over her, his head buried between her legs and his cock buried in her mouth. Elina had wrapped her thighs around his head to keep him there, and was using one hand to pump along his shaft while the other traveled Pol's body. 

Kiera's free hand slipped almost of its own will through the slit on her dress. Her fingers wove their way through her panties, and then the fine trimmed hair between her legs until they found her clit, and rolled it gently. 

Down below, Elina had stopped moving her mouth and hands on Pol's cock, the muscles in her thighs tight and tense around Pol's head. Her eyes were squeezed closed and her hands stroked her nipples in circles. Her back arched and she seemed to seize up. Kiera could only imagine what she was feeling. 

Kiera took her fingers off her clit, pulling the tips into her mouth and wetting them before slipping her hand back down between her legs, and plunging two fingers into herself down to the knuckles. Her palm stayed flat, rubbing back and forth against her clit, stroking herself as it throbbed, sending the sweet heat through her body. The fabric of her dress, already quite snug, began to stick to her skin as she worked.

When Elina had come down from her orgasm, her legs released Pol and she tapped his thigh. Pol raised himself up a little way, staring down Elina's body her as she spoke to him. He rose up to his knees over her, and she reached a hand up to stroke his cock straight over her body, her face occupied between his legs in a way that Kiera couldn't see from where she stood, bracing herself against the window as her fingers wound their way in and out of her body. But she could guess what was happening.

Pol's mouth was open and his chest was rising and falling as he stared down at the beautiful woman working his cock between her hands. Elina scooted down, giving Kiera a clear view as the other woman pulled the engorged head between her lips before letting Pol's cock free again as she resumed her work between his legs, her hands speeding their work. 

Pol shuddered and Kiera increased her own pace watching as his hands snatched his cock from Elina's, his motion blurring in the field glasses. Elina just wrapped her hands around him, rubbing across the back of his legs, ass, and lower torso, encouraging him on.

Kiera had seen the evidence of Pol's handiwork before, like the Canian woman, or little blonde farmgirl all those weeks before lying in the hay, covered in his cum, but she'd never seen him take his own pleasure before, and the sight of him stroking himself over Elina's body sent little shocks up and down her spine. She introduced her pussy to the third of her fingers, moaning as she did. 

Pol's body strained with the effort as his cum came streaming out of him, the bursts falling across the length of Elina's chest and torso. Elina's hands slipped back to his cock, stroking as much as she could get out of him. And there was much to be had, the thief shaking as his cock spurted again, sending a short rope between Elina's breasts, trailing down to her navel. When he'd stopped managing to fire off rounds of the stuff, the Noble woman sucked him back between her lips, milking the last drops out of him. 

Kiera strained to force her fingers deeper inside of herself.

*****

Pol watched as Elina, his cum spread across her body, slipped into basin of the fountain. When she'd asked him if he'd wanted to do as Jin had, he had thought she'd meant for him to drive his cock between her legs, but she'd begun licking at his balls instead, and running her hands along his shaft, jerking him over her body, and he'd lost himself in his need.

Elina wiped her skin clean of the mess, then rose and strolled away from him through the fountain, the water coming up to her knees, until she was standing under the gryphons, who were at least twice her height, catching the stream of water that came down out of their mouths on her head. Water ran down her body, and Pol watched as she spread it over her chest, cleaning herself with the spray. She looked back at him, her hair shining, wet and matted.

"What are you just sitting there for?" she asked. The nearest's gryphon's knee was raised in mid-movement, to just under the height of her navel, and Elina braced herself on it a little, bending over slightly and stepping her legs apart, showing him what he was missing by remaining so far away, her lower lips flexing just slightly as she did.

The water was warm from sitting in the sun all day, and Pol waded over to where Elina stood by a dancing gryphon. His body felt grimy with the sweat brought forth both by the bright sun and the heat of his own blood when Elina had brought him to orgasm, and the shower that fell on him as he strode among the gryphons was cool and refreshing.

His cock had already begun to regain a bit of the steel it'd shown when she'd taken it in her mouth, and he stroked himself as he approached her. Elina watched him work his cock, her mouth open, blind and deaf to anything else, until he was close and her gaze caught him staring at her stare, and she blushed a little and looked straight ahead.

Pol's cock hardly needed any more attention-it was a rock in his hand. He stepped behind Elina, his hips meeting hers, admiring the wide round curves of her buttocks, and the smooth muscles of her back, the gentle cleft along her spine and the shoulder blades that disappeared or rose up depending on how she moved her arms, shifting the ever-present vine of morning glories depicted in her tattoo. 

His cock was resting in the crack of her ass, and Elina had begun to rub her body against his, until she stepped forward a little, reaching a hand between her legs to grasp him by the base of his shaft, pulling him down and forward. Pol's hand seized her wrist before she could force him inside her, so that the head of his cock rested between the lips of her pussy for only a moment before he pushed it past, rubbing it up against her clit and belly. 

Elina groaned to feel how hard and hot he was as he stroked his cock slowly back and forth over her body, her lower lips kissing the top of his length as he moved.

"Don't tease me, thief," she muttered.

"If I'd stolen into your bedchamber at night, you'd hardly be in a position to command me when or when not to tease," said Pol. He gave her rump a light slap, just hard enough that, with the water, it stung for a second, prompting a sharp exclamation from Elina. 

"In Tia Vashil, the Exarch has decreed that thieves that are caught lose a hand," she said.

"In that case, you'd better choose," said Pol. "This one?"

His right hand cupped her right breast and he kneaded and groped at it. Elina arched her back to press more of her flesh into his palm. 

"Or this one?" His left hand found her left breast, but this time his fingers found her nipple, twisting and pulling.

"Oooh," said Elina, raising her hand to catch his. 

"Mmm. As I thought," he said. He took his right hand away from her breast, and pulled his hips back slightly, his hand guiding his cock into her pussy as he thrust hard forward.

"Ahh, yes, that's what I needed," grunted Elina as Pol's cock pressed deep into her, creating the delicious fullness inside her body she'd been craving since arriving at the vai Ullan estate earlier in the day. He held himself still for a moment. His right hand pushed its way back up her body, lifting her away from the leg of the statue as his fingers once again provided a tight cage around her breast, two of his fingers rolling her nipple between the knuckles. 

"Vash, you're tight," said Pol, reveling in the grip her pussy had on him, almost as strong as her mouth had been. Elina laughed an amused little giggle, not wanting to disabuse him of the notion, but wondering if her pussy or the girth of his cock was to blame. "Has Jin ever been where I am now?"

"Nn-oh!" cried Elina as Pol began to pump his hips, drawing himself a little ways out of her before pushing back in. 

"You were working on him during dinner," said Pol. Elina began to push back against him as he thrust against her. He groaned watching her ass ripple each time it made contact with his hips. "How do you know he's a good lay if you haven't ever tried him?"

Elina's hand grabbed his left wrist, dragging it away from her chest. She pulled it along the side of her face, and he hooked a finger into her mouth, feeling her tongue lick at the tip, before she once again pulled it away until his hand was resting in her hair. 

"Us ladies do talk to each other, you know," she chided as Pol wove his fingers through the auburn strands of her hair. "Except for Vatya, who just brags."

"Dragon's bells, fuck me with that glorious cock," she groaned. Pol's grip on her hair tightened, drawing her head back. His other hand seized her right thigh, lifting her knee into the air until it was resting on the gryphon's raised leg. His next thrust was much deeper and they both gasped in unison to feel his length penetrating between her folds.

"Do you know?" asked Elina, grasping at the gryphon's leg while Pol plunged in and out of her. "I've been coming here for almost a month, desperate to get this from Jin, and now, here you are and..."

She paused, shuddering on a particularly well-aimed stroke.

"...it was worth it."

Pol was almost beside himself, listening to her talk. He gritted his teeth, forcing his mind to wander to other subjects, memories that might help him. But most of those were memories of thieving, and they brought him back to Elina.

"The thief you pictured in your bedchamber," he grunted. "Did he look like Jin?"




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 09



Note: Deeply sorry about the wait on this one. If you're enjoying these, let me know by email or comments, I love to hear from readers!

*****

Mistress Margase's face appeared to be mostly unconvinced. She leaned back, causing her off-the-shoulder dress to sink a little further, exposing the spray of freckles that dotted the pale skin of her chest.

"You're a warlock, Citizen Burr?" 

Pol exchanged a glance with Kiera. She frowned at him and nodded. He had done magic. At least once in her presence, with Sir Vallan. And there'd been a few things with the Canians that had given her pause.

"I don't claim to be. But strange things have happened while Kiera and I traveled to Tia Vashil."

Kiera cleared her throat, interrupting.

"I was tested by the Guild as a young girl," she said. "I was found to lack any magic. That rules me out. Unless a sorcerer has been following us since Lowvale, then I believe he is a warlock."

"I remember when you were tested," said Margase. "I was apprentice to Master Waldrin when he was Master of Students."

Her piercing blue eyes danced as Kiera stared at her, trying to remember the fire-haired beauty from her test. There'd been a few more Sorcerers in the Guild then, enough to crowd the small testing courtyard, and they'd all sat very patiently as Master Waldrin had demonstrated moving a small rock from one marble podium to another through the air. Kiera had been desperate to be a Sorcerer like her namesake, and had struggled to try and get the stone to move without touching it. She'd pressed her face against the marble, willing, begging the rock to float away. Nothing had worked. 

She didn't remember Margase at all. All she remembered was the rock not moving and Master Waldrin gently patting her on the shoulder.

Margase remembered the event quite fondly. Ked vai Ullan had not yet been elected Exarch, but his eldest daughter coming for a testing had been a unique event, and most of the Guild had wanted her to succeed, hoping that her family might help empower the Guild with more than magic should she join their ranks. But what Margase was most pleased to recall was, when Waldrin had returned to his quarters from showing the vail Ullan girl to the gates, how she'd stepped from the shadows, shed her robes, and knelt to take her master in her mouth, much to his surprise. Waldrin had taken her for the first time then, and in the nearly fifteen years since, they'd almost never left the bed they'd been joined on that night.

Except when she had to test potential new students. It was a regular occurrence, but since becoming Master of Students from Waldrin, she'd never found one fit to become an acolyte at the Guild. She'd scoffed when Heldi had suggested there was a warlock out there to perform the Rite of Renewal. The magic was dying. If you were a religious person, like Margase was, then while you might know that Kili's power still existed in the dragon jade and other similar artifacts, it was very clear that Vash's gifts to mankind were waning.

And yet, here was Pol Burr, sitting in this chair across from her, a fantastic story of performing a disintegration spell on an unsuspecting knight to accompany him. Performed by an unsuspecting Sorcerer, as well. Margase was skeptical by nature, but she was religious enough to know that Coincidence was not one of the gods, but that Fate was. 

Margase stood and opened the door. Pol shot to his feet, believing the audience to be over, that Kiera was wrong. Kiera rose out of her chair, a look of rank indignation on her face, disgust at being thwarted by the petite slip of a woman before her. 

Margase cut them both off. "Lady Kiera, Citizen Burr, if you'll follow me."

She turned and walked away, leaving them to chase her or be left alone in the office. 

Pol might have preferred time alone with Kiera, who'd been a ghost since the dinner until once again at a rude hour she'd roughly awoken him, this time from the most comfortable feather bed he'd ever slept in-a marked improvement over the patch of dirt he'd been more accustomed to sleeping on these past weeks-to go obtain an audience with the Guild. She'd stood by in her fine leather riding gear, directing her servants to dress Pol properly for the occasion in clothes finer than he'd ever worn before.

At the Gate of Fire, a flummoxed young Sorcerer, if any Sorcerer these days could be truly be young, had stared at them dumbly when Kiera had announced "Warlock Pol" when he'd asked who they were. Then he'd turned and dashed away, at which point Margase had come out and invited them to her office.

Now they once again plodded down the high-ceilinged corridors, the walls adorned with tapestries from across the Farthest Sea and marble busts of famous Chairs of the Guild, and the occasional outstanding Guild member, their accomplishments etched in stone below the dates of their births and deaths. It seemed a little strange to Pol that one could summarize an entire life with just two dates, especially a life as long as a Sorcerer's. But then again, Pol's life had not been anything much of note and, if he'd only known his birthday, then he supposed his life would've been adequate summed by just a start and an end date. 

Margase was a fascinating woman. She was small and had seemed terribly dainty, like a toy woman when they'd met. Her hair was a long cascade of dark red hair that she'd curled up into a bun, with a few locks slipping away and framing her face. Her skin, and Pol could see quite a lot of it, given that her dress was backless, save for fine gold chains that stretched below her shoulder blades to keep the front taut and fastened, was an alabaster flecked with freckles, like a painter had splattered her brush across her skin over and over by accident. 

And yet, she'd refused Kiera's attempt to take a knee and Pol's attempt to bow and nearly crushed his hand in her grip when she'd shook it instead. She'd even lifted the heavy cast iron Gate of Fire herself, as if by magic.

It occurred to Pol, feeling quite foolish, that it might very well have been magic. 

They took a door off the main corridor they'd been following, passing by a number of small rooms where dozens of peculiar look instruments sat, waiting to do Vash knew what. Margase pulled open a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall, then waved at hand at the iron bars that blocked their way. The bars retreated into the ground in front of them. 

"The testing courtyard," Kiera whispered to Pol as they walked out into the sun. The testing courtyard was indeed fairly small, just the size of a simple garden. It was mostly grass, with a cobblestone path to two marble podiums, each about waist height. On the left podium was a smooth black rock ball, not much larger or wider than a silver Vashili mark. 

"Now, Citizen Burr," said Mistress Margase, turning her blinding blue gaze on him. "This is a very simple test, one we give to anyone who would seek to become an acolyte here at the Guild. All you must do is move the black stone from the left podium to the right podium without touching it. You may do anything you wish to aid you; gestures, commands, there are no rules prohibiting anything but not actually moving the rock."

Pol looked at the rock, then at Margase, and then Kiera, who gave him a wan smile. He looked back at Margase.

"Whenever you're ready, Citizen Burr," the Sorcerer said. 

"I just walk up and move the rock without touching it?" 

"If you feel you need to walk up, yes. Otherwise, you can just move the rock."

Pol took a hesitant step forward. He stared at the black rock and willed it to rise. 

The rock sat pleasantly on its podium, heating in the day's sun undisturbed. 

"You're doing very good, Pol," said Margase, her voice gentle and reassuring. "Perhaps you might add a gesture, or a command. Or both."

"Like what?"

"Well, raising your palm is a classic. Or saying, 'rise.' Either of those." 

Pol snuck a glance at Kiera before turning his attention back to the rock. There was a sympathetic pain in her eyes; she'd failed this test long before Pol had ever tried it. She knew what it was like.

"Rise," he ordered the rock. He demonstrated, lifting his palm up into the air as though the rock rested in the center of it. "Rise!"

The rock did nothing. 

"Rise!" he shouted, immediately feeling foolish and exposed, even in the confines of the garden.

Margase stepped to him, her hand rubbing his back. Her head barely even came up to his shoulders, and he had to bend down to hear when she started to whisper at him.

"You know, Warlock Pol, I'm beginning to think that you've the potential to be a very powerful, very important Sorcerer. And one of the benefits of being such a creature, and being such a creature in the Guild is that, is you can have anything you'd like."

Her gaze shifted to the young woman behind them, and her voice became even quieter.

"Or anyone. I know this for a fact."

She stepped back away from him, her voice immediately rising in volume.

"Remember what I said, and move the rock, Pol."

Pol looked at Kiera for a moment. Her green eyes were alight and seemed to sparkle when their gazes met, and her smile felt warm and encouraging. "You can do this," she mouthed at him.

Pol planted his feet and stared at the rock. The only time he'd really felt like he'd done magic was in Lowvale, when Sir Vallan had lost an arm. How had he done that? He stretched his arm out, his hand straight up, as if commanding the rock to stop. He splayed his fingers, and willed the rock to movement.

Margase started to say something that sounded like, "No, not-" but by then it was much too late to intervene. The numbing sensation he'd felt before ran through Pol's entire body this time, pouring down his arm and into his hand, so much that if he hadn't been able to see his own fingers, he would've doubted their existence. The air around the left podium began to shimmer, then twist about, as though it were different color paints being blended together, stirred by some unseen hand. 

There was a sucking sound and if one blinked, they'd have missed the transformation of the world from one in where the podium, the black rock, and much of the ground under the podium existed, to one in which none of those things were present. Half a cobblestone, split apart by the spell, toppled into small crater that was left in their passing.

Margase hiked her dress above her knees and rushed over to stare into the crater. There was no trace of the podium, and she guessed the gaping hole in front of her to be at least two paces wide, if not three. She turned and clapped her hands a little. 

"Well, not quite a movement to the other podium, but it will do, Acolyte Pol," said Margase. 

There was more clapping from the way they'd entered the courtyard, and even Kiera jumped a little at the surprise of the sound. A woman, her skin the warm color of rich soil and her long black hair braided together with pale blue ribbons that had been tied all throughout, matching her dress. Clapping with her was a giant of a man, blonde and fierce, like Tau vai Keller if he'd grown up rough and grown a beard at the same time. His robes were red, the detailing, all exquisite, made up in gold.

"Acolyte Pol, allow me to introduce Master Bollu, the Guild's Master of Lore," said Margase. Bollu extended a hand crushing grip that made Pol wince when he put his hand into it.

"And Mistress Heldi, our Master of War."

Heldi did not take Pol's proferred hand. Instead, she embraced him, kissing him on the cheek and earning her a blush from the thief.

"You are very welcome here, Acolyte Pol," she said. "You are the answer to a prayer."

Pol didn't know what to say exactly. The three Sorcerers seemed to be expecting him to speak or say a few words, but none came to mind.

Kiera saved him.

"'Acolyte' Pol?" she asked. "You mean to say he's already part of the Guild? That's it, one test?"

Bollu chuckled. "There aren't many ways to prove you're capable of magic better than that."

"But isn't there something for him to do? A ceremony or something?" Kiera frowned when Bollu waved a hand at her dismissively.

"There are a thousand ceremonies that the Guild's traditions demand must occur for a new acolyte to be admitted to our sacred fellowship. But Pol is special for a few reasons. First, he's our first new acolyte in over fifteen years. Dragon's bells, he's the first testing candidate even capable of magic in over fifteen years. Second, we've discovered, over the thousands of years the Guild has existed that most of those ceremonies are a horrible waste of time, so we've abandoned them, and damn tradition. And third, there is only one ritual that concerns us at the moment, the Rite of Renewal."

"What's that?" asked Kiera.

"I can hardly be expected to share Guild secrets with an outsider," said Bollu. 

Heldi placed a hand on Bollu's arm, and stared at Kiera, sizing her up. She looked from Kiera to Pol, and then at Margase. The Master of Students nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Share it with her anyhow, Bollu," Heldi said. "She is the Exarch's daughter, after all. She may be able to assist in some way yet unknown."

Bollu frowned a little, then slumped his shoulders in defeat.

"Magic is like water, it ebbs and flows around the world. In some places, it is as deep and strong as the ocean, in others it is a puddle. And like water, it sometimes results in droughts. In our part of the world, our magic is going dry."

"So the Guild is weak?" asked Kiera. The daughter of the Exarch was concerned to hear this. The Guild place in Tia Vashil was guaranteed by their status as protectors not just of the city, but of all the Metropolises in the East. 

"Do not be deceived," said Bollu. "Even the most inept magical adept wields more power today than a phalanx of knights...but this will be of little use against the Dragon Clans. Dragon jade's strength is immutable. Some of us believe..."

"I do," said Heldi, willing to out herself.

"...that we do not have the strength to oppose the united Clans and their jade under the current circumstances," finished Bollu.

"And the Rite of Renewal will change that?"

"The Rite is a ritual that echoes back to the dawn of man and the birth of the first magical adept. Two participants, a man and a woman, at least one of whom is an adept, will couple before the Guild. The Guild then casts a powerful spell using the..seed...of the couple's work to replenish at least some of the magic in the area."

"You're going to use me to add to your power?" asked Pol.

"I sincerely doubt that you will find the Rite to be greatly discomforting," said Bollu, smiling. "In fact, I expect you'll quite enjoy it. Not all the Guild's rituals are so enjoyable."

His gaze settled on Heldi.

"Though some are."

Pol thought he detected a slight hint of color appear in Margase's cheeks, but Heldi seemed unmoved by Bollu's inscrutable last comment. 

"Why can't any of you do it?"

"We have tried," answered Heldi. "But we are missing a key ingredient: the verdance of youth. The use of magic has extended our lives beyond their natural span, we are not young."

"This is something you should think about carefully, Pol," said Margase. "It's very likely you'll live to be well over one hundred. Your body will not appear to age very much over that time."

"That doesn't sound like a bad thing," said Pol, smiling. 

"It can be," said Margase. Her face had grown a little forlorn and she regarded Kiera with a critical eye. "Membership in the Guild prohibits you from taking a spouse, though you may father children, if you wish. It is likely some of them may join you at the Guild one day if you do. Many of us choose not to."

"Why? What's the problem? Magic, eternal youth, it all seems pretty good."

"Watching everyone you love grow old and die has its toll," said Bollu. 

Pol was silent for a long time as he digested this last.

"And I can refuse to join?" he asked, his voice low.

"You may," said Heldi. "But the Guild rightly views warlocks as dangers to themselves and the unsuspecting citizens they live among. If you choose to leave now, we will monitor you regularly to ensure you are not dangerous. If you are..."

She trailed off, leaving the threat unsaid. Pol bit his lip and stared into the air as he thought.

"Regardless, we would still like you to perform the Rite of Renewal," said Margase. "Why don't we put off..."

"I'll join," said Pol, cutting her off. 

"This is the right choice," said Heldi. When her gaze touched his, he saw there was something not unlike pride behind her eyes.

"Why don't I familiarize you with the Guild Rock a little more?" asked Margase. "After all, it's going to be your home for a long time."

"Can I say goodbye to my friend?" asked Pol.

"Of course," said Margase. Her piercing blue eyes twinkled at his request.

Pol crossed the courtyard to Kiera. He shuffled his feet in front of her for a moment, not knowing what to say exactly.

"So you're a Sorcerer now, Pol Burr," said Kiera.

"Seems like it."

"Well, I suppose I should get back home. My father relies on my counsel when I'm home."

"He's a wise man."

"I'll tell him you said that."

"Please do. And please tell him thank you, for his hospitality, and the clothes, and, well, everything."

"I will, Pol."

"And thank you, Kiera. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here."

"You're welcome," said Kiera. The corners of her mouth were curled into an amused expression he'd seen a few times when she stared at him over the weeks of their travel. She extended a hand to him. 

"Until we meet again, Sorcerer Pol."

He clasped it and gave it a perfunctory shake. 

"Until we meet again, Lady Kiera."

He began to turn away, but her hand held him back. When he shifted to see what more she wanted, Kiera's free hand grasped his neck and she stepped into him. Her chin lifted and his dropped, their lips joining together. Pol closed his eyes, losing himself in Kiera's softness. He took the hand in his and placed it on his shoulder, then ran his fingers through her short cropped hair, his other hand sliding down her spine to rest at its base, just on the top of the slope formed where her back became the generous curves of her buttocks. His heart, or perhaps it was her heart, was pounding in his chest, and the courtyard and the rest of its occupants seemed to disappear until finally Kiera's teeth found his bottom lip, pulling gently before her mouth released his.

"We will meet again," she said, turning from him. Bollu was walking away with Heldi, and she walked with purpose to catch the big blonde sorcerer, the words they spoke to each other lost on Pol's addled brain for the moment.

"Come, Pol," said Margase, her hand at his shoulder causing him to jump in his skin. "I'll show you around."

*****

The groom took Blade's reins from her, and Kiera climbed the steps, pulling off her riding gloves. A servant indicated that her father had an interest in seeing her as soon as she could manage, so she walked down the halls to her parents' chambers.

Her father was reading reports about the city while her mother was listing the various candidates for Jin's hand in marriage and the lack of value she felt all of them shared. 

"Ah, Kiera, you've come to rescue me," said Ked when she walked through the door. Trali crumpled one of his missives into a ball and threw it at him.

"Careful, my dear, careful, that's the report on spice shipments," warned Ked, catching and unfolding the paper ball. His attention turned back to his daughter. "Now what happened to your thief? Flunk his test?"

"No," said Kiera. "He's a member of the Guild now."

"Oh, that's wonderful for him," said her mother. 

"Yes, I think so."




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 09



Ked snorted. "Yesterday he was one of your strays, and tomorrow I shall have to kneel before him as my master. The world turns as Vash wills it to, and Kili takes the sense of it."

"I suppose so," agreed Kiera.

"Oh, darling," said Trali. "You've a visitor again. He decided to wait until you'd returned. He's in your rooms."

"Tau?" asked Kiera. 

Her mother nodded.

"I wish you hadn't let him into my rooms," said Kiera.

"You have a standing order that Tau is to be admitted to your rooms whenever he comes to visit. In fact, I believe the exact statement was that he was to be admitted and the two of you were not to be disturbed under any circumstances," said Ked.

"Have you soured on the boy during your travels?" asked Trali.

"I...I don't know," said Kiera.

Ked frowned, lines furrowing deep into his brow. He put his papers down.

"Kiera, you have a chance to become Exarch after me. Cail vai Keller would be powerful tool in ensuring that that happens. But it is far from guaranteed if you don't marry his nephew."

"I know, father," said Kiera, not meeting his gaze. He tsked at her.

"I'm not chastising you," he reminded her. "I'm merely reminding you of what's at stake."

"I know, father," repeated Kiera.

Her mother intervened before Ked could continue.

"That's very good news about Pol Burr, Kiera," Trali said. "We're happy your friend is doing well. You may go if you'd like, we know you and Tau have a lot to discuss."

Kiera nodded. "I have to be back at the Guild tomorrow evening," she said.

"Oh?"

"Yes, Master Bollu has agreed to teach me some of the lore of the Guild. If I am to be Exarch, I think it could be valuable."

Ked stroked his beard. "I suppose that's true. Very well. Say hello to Tau for me."

Tau was waiting for her on her bed when she slipped into her rooms. His shirt was pulled tight against his broad frame. His chiseled features worked their way into a smile when he saw her.

"Kiera," he said.

"Tau," she said. She threw her riding gloves onto a table and stepped out of her boots. 

"I've missed you."

"I know." Kiera walked over and stood in front of her vanity, considering what to do. She needed to change out of her riding clothes, but Tau was there. On the other hand, he'd seen her naked many times before. She undid the buttons on her jacket and shrugged out of it. As she started to undo the buttons of her blouse, Tau rose and stood behind her, his hands resting on her hips. Their gazes met in the mirror. 

"I've missed you quite a bit," he said.

"I know, Tau."

"You put me off, yesterday," he said. She'd almost undone all the buttons on her blouse, and one of Tau's hands slipped in under it to cup a breast, the nipple hardening at his touch. The memory of her kiss with Pol was still fresh in Kiera's mind and the feeling of being touched was a bit intoxicating. 

But there were other concerns.

"We can't do anything today, either, Tau. It's not...safe."

"You take precautions." His other hand undid the laces on her riding breeches, slipping a hand down their front, pushing through her pubic mound.

"I've been traveling in the forest, you big lug. Not a lot of luxuries for that there." This was not true, but she had been ordered to forgo any further use of her contraceptives until after the next night and wasn't inclined to take chances. 

Tau's hand reached her clit, causing her to gasp, then groan as his fingers slip past to probe at her folds. His other hand pushed her shirt open wider, exposing her breasts and their wide brown nipples in the mirror. She could feel his cock, a rigid bar in his trousers, pushing up against her.

"There are other things we could do," he observed. He began to kiss and lick the nape of her neck, and Kiera groaned again as he worked his way up until his tongue found her ear. 

"Okay," she managed. "Take your clothes off and lie on the bed." 

Tau more or less ripped his shirt off, and Kiera stared appreciatively at his body. He had a much different physique from Pol. Tau was the sort of man who might be able to unlodge an ox cart from the mud by taking the place of the oxen. Kiera slipped out of her breeches, stroking herself a little in anticipation as Tau's belt was undone and he pulled his pants off. His cock was not as impressive as Pol's, but it was more than adequate at leaving her satiated. His fist found it, working himself up and down as he watched her please herself.

"Lie down," she told him again.

"Come here," he said, complying.

She joined him on the bed in reverse, climbing atop him so that her mouth had easy access to his cock while his mouth had easy access to her pussy. She took his cock from his hands, and smiled when he shuddered at her touch. They had grown too familiar, perhaps, before she had departed Tia Vashil, and it was gratifying to see some of the old desire there to greet her return. 

His hands ran up her body, pausing briefly to cup and knead her breasts as her hands ran up and down his cock, then sliding up further to spread her pussy apart. She moaned as Tau's ran his tongue up and down her lower lips, and returned the favor by licking his cock from base to tip and back again. 

He tongued her clit, strolling it over her in a side to side motion, and she murmured her pleasure, her hands holding his cock up as she took it into her mouth. She bobbed along his length, her tongue twirling around the head of his cock at first, before she took him deeper and deeper, until finally he was buried in the back of her throat. 

Tau moaned into her pussy, the vibrations providing a delicious reminder of her own desire. Tau's hips were moving, and Kiera's lips retreated up his length a little, to allow him room to thrust into her mouth. At the same time, she ground her crotch against his face, trying to help herself along. 

Kiera returned to bobbing up and down Tau's cock, the shaft running slick with her saliva, so that it glided in and out of her lips as he fucked her mouth back as she worked on him.

Tau had never been a particularly gifted man with his mouth. Some earlier woman had taught him exactly what pleased her, and as a result, he often failed to vary his technique or motion. It wasn't unpleasant, it simply wouldn't push Kiera over the edge. She had tried to train him out of it, but had long since given up. But between kissing Pol, the promise of what tomorrow held for her, and Tau's cock in her mouth, Kiera was desperate to get off.

If there was one thing Tau was good with, though, it was his hands.

Kiera lifted of his cock, giving it one last parting lick, before rising up on her knees. She freed her body from Tau's hands, then shuffled down his body until her pussy was over his cock. She collapsed backwards, resting her back against Tau's chest and her head on the pillow next to his. Her left hand found his, and dragged it down to her crotch, placing it over her cunt. Her right hand lifted past her head, cupping Tau's cheek, turning his head so that he could lick at her ear.

Tau misinterpreted her completely, his knees rising into the air to give himself better purchase, his left hand reaching past her to guide his cock inside her. She gasped as he filled her, her hand pulling on his hair, her back arching along his body as he began to gently thrust into her. Every fiber of her body was urging her to thrust back against him, or at least enjoy what was happening, but she couldn't.

"Oh, no, no, Tau," she said. She shifted her hips up so that he slipped out of her. "We can't. We can't risk it."

"We could..." said Tau. "If you'd agree to-"

"Oh, Tau, not now," she begged him. "Not now. Please just use your hand. You know what I like."

Tau kissed her shoulder. His fingers snaked their way into her pussy, crawling along until they found the rough sensitive area on the ceiling of her cunt. He began to clap his hand inside her, pulling up a little. Kiera writhed against him, and his right hand grasped at her breast, pulling on her nipple as the hand in her pussy sent shocks up her body. She glanced down her body, watching the pale hands perform their work, an alabaster contrast against her bronze skin.

Her breath was coming in fast, short bursts, and she reached between her legs, past his hand, until she found Tau's cock, stroking it with a vigor to match his own. Her left hand mirrored Tau's hand on her right, teasing her own nipple with pinches and pulls. 

"Oh, fuck, Kiera," murmured Tau. "How did I ever let you leave?"

The hand around her pussy was having its intended effect, and any response Kiera might have intended to give was instead replaced by her loud moan as she came. She tightened tightened around Tau's fingers, squeezing hard enough to leave a slight pain in them. Her hand on his cock paused in its work, but Tau waited it out, until her pussy had released its death grip on his fingers. Kiera was breathing heavily, trying to regain her composure, her chest rising and falling in his hand. 

He pulled his fingers from her cunt and brought them to her mouth. Kiera loved to taste herself, and she dutifully sucked each finger into her mouth in turn, the hand on his cock resuming its rapid motion between her legs. Tau watched as she licked his fingers, probing for every drop she'd left on him. 

"Oh, Kiera, I'm close," he said. 

"Good," she managed. She slid her hips down until his cock was bent over her mound, so that she was stroking him straight up at her belly. "I want to see you cum."

Tau couldn't manage much in the way of coherent words, and Kiera sat up a little to watch, her hand moving even faster along his length, hard and pulsing in her grip. 

Tau's cock twitched and his cum came streaming out, splattering up across Kiera's stomach, some of it falling into her navel, a fair amount catching in the hair between her legs. Kiera cooed with appreciation, panting her enjoyment of the visual evidence of Tau's desire for her, feeling how hot his cum was across her belly as she continued to pump him as hard as she could, until finally she couldn't coax any more out of him and Tau seized her wrist to stop her efforts. 

It was his turn to breathe hard, his chest lifting Kiera with each intake, and lowering her when he exhaled.

"I missed you, Kiera," he said, as she slipped off his chest to lie in the cool fabric of the bedsheets beside him.

"I know, Tau," she said.

*****

Pol rubbed a towel across his hair. He'd been taking well more than his fair share of baths, by his reckoning. Margase had shown him around the Guild Rock, highlighting the mess hall, where the cooks were retained to provide him with food day or night should he require it, and the archives, where he'd met the Chief Archivist, Sorcerer Praela, as well as her assistants. He'd been briefly introduced in turn to Sorcerer Garen, Master of Spies; Sorcerer Carista, Master of State; and Sorcerer Tudon, Master of Stores. They'd been kind, but brief. Kindest but briefest of all had been Master Waldrin, the Chair of the High Council. He'd seemed excited to see Margase, but his interest in Pol had focused more on the young man's status as the first student in many years, and less in Pol as a human being.

Margase had, despite Pol's protests to the contrary, assumed he would want to bathe and called for a bath and water scented with flowers and herbs which made him feel a bit like a bouquet. Still, he'd shed his clothes, borrowed from Kiera's father, letting a handful of Guild servants bundle them away, and clambered into the tub. He didn't wash so much as just let the warmth seep into his body until the water had cooled enough that it was no longer enjoyable. There were, he was beginning to admit, certain benefits for daily bathing.

After having dried himself, there were no signs of any replacement clothes. Margase had told him to expect further visitors, and he was worried that the servants would not return in time to save him from embarrassment when he found a note written in an ill-disciplined hand on a table near the four-poster bed in his room.

Pol, the next guest will require you unclothed. Never fear, your garments will be returned to you after. -B

A peculiar request, and coming from Bollu and not Margase, but who was Pol to question it? It was not like there was anyone to question it to around, anyhow. And there were certainly no replacement clothes to disobey it with. He found a book on a shelf entitled A Survey of the Five Noble Houses and flipped through it as he waited, mostly glancing at the pictures and skimming through the words.

He started into the vai Banda family, starting with the Hero founder, Yorvar vai Banda, "the Hammer of Banda" who had been tasked with holding a small side gate alone against the enemy while the other four Nobles held the main gate. It was said he'd barricaded the the gate with the corpses of his enemies before he'd rejoined his comrades. Pol idly wondered how many bodies it would take to make a door impassable. It sounded far fetched. He'd known boxing champions who had bragged of their prowess and status as undefeated, but if you examined their records, their fights were fixed, unbalanced, or both. 

There was a knock at his door. 

"Come in," said Pol.

The door opened and Praela stepped in, a massive tome hovering in the air after her. She closed the door behind her. Her clothing was simple, a loose fitting shirt with padded elbows and a pair of women's trousers with comfortable shoes, masking any sense of the body underneath. Wrapped around her shirt was a wide belt, with loops for quills, a knife to sharpen them, and a few different colors of inks. 

She looked at Pol, her eyes tracing down his naked torso to his crotch and then back up to his face. She arched a brow.

"Where do you hail from, Sorcerer Pol?"

"Lowvale."

"Sort of backwater, isn't it?"

"Compared to Tia Vashil, I guess so." 

"Well," said Praela, taking her eyes from the nude man in front of her to pull the tome open and leave it hovering in front of her. "I just have to record a few things for posterity. What's your name?"

"Pol Burr."

Praela made note of it in her floating tome.

"And the day of your birth?"

"I'm not sure. By my count I'm 23, maybe 24."

"Well, we'll tell history you were 24."

"Place of birth, Lowvale, obviously. Your mother's name?"

"Eluna Burr."

"Mother's occupation?"

"Scullery maid."

"Father's name?"

"I didn't know my father."

"Your mother didn't tell you?"

"Never."

Praela frowned at him. "I'm sorry, Pol. I have to ask though."

"It's okay. It was a long time ago, and I never knew him."

"Okay, let's move on," say Praela. She noted his sandy hair and the color of his eyes in the tome. "I need to interview you about who you were before the Guild and how you discovered your magic. May I sit?" 

"Sure, let me make some room," said Pol. He collected the book on the Five Nobles from the table he'd been reading it on, and put it back on the shelf. When he turned around, his face blanched.

Praela had shed her shirt, and she was bent over peeling her pants off. When she'd lost all her clothes she straightened and looked at Pol. 

"Oh, no!" she exclaimed, catching the confused look on his face. "I thought this would put you more at ease! It's how they do it in Lowvale isn't it?"

Pol stared for a moment as Praela's nude form. She was a smaller woman, but with fine suntanned skin and small perky tits and a firm ass. A strip of hair, not much narrower than two of Pol's fingers, ran up the front of her crotch. 

"It's not," he said, finally remembering himself.

"Then why are you naked?" she asked. 

"The note said to be!" 

"What note?"

Pol fetched it from the table and Praela came over and read it out of his hand. Her nudity and her proximity began to have a noticeable effect on Pol, his cock twitched as it stirred to life.

"I believe you've been the victim of some very juvenile hazing, Pol," said Praela. She spun her hands about, until a small pocket of air had contorted itself and shimmered in the shape of a horn. 

"Bollu, when you're available, please come to Pol Burr's quarters to explain yourself, and return his clothes," she said. She flattened one hand and the horn disappeared. 

"Well, Pol," she said. "I got to see you, I suppose it's only fair you see me until Bollu gets here with your clothes." 

She sat at the table and Pol joined her. Soon she was laughing at some of his more outrageous moments as a thief and listening to the story of how he'd met Kiera and everything they'd done on their way to Tia Vashil. She tooks notes on maybe half of it, including mostly the damage to Sir Vallan, the name of his horse and the Toft farm, and details on the Canians and the members of the wild men's society and their roles. 

"Well, that's it," said Praela. "Oh, I almost forgot! One last statistic: your height."

She rooted through her pants until she found a measuring tape, drawing it out. 

"Up against the wall," she told him. When he complied she measured from his head to his shoulder, pressing the tape against his arm.

"Hold this here," she said, taking the hand on the opposite arm and placing a finger on the tape. She measured lower, until she was kneeling on the floor in front of him, her head not far his cock. It had softened during their conversation, but now was beginning to find some of its former steel.

"Fourteen and a half marks tall," said Praela, pulling the tape from his grasp. She rose up on her knees and clicked her fingers, the tome rising off the table to hover at her shoulder. She noted his height, then pushed the book away. 

She looked up at Pol and there was a light in her eyes. "One last measurement for my personal records, if you don't mind?"

"Whatever you need," he answered, not comprehending. 

Praela reached up and grabbed his cock, guiding it into her mouth. Pol gasped as the soft surface of her tongue pressed up against his cock's sensitive underside and her cheeks hollowed as she began to apply suction. His cock hardened rapidly in her mouth, reaching its hardest as she pushed deeper along his shaft and her nose pressed against the downy hair of his crotch. 

Praela sucked air as she let him out of her mouth, leaving his cock standing at attention for her.

"Should we be doing this?" Pol had the sense ask. 

Praela just laughed her enchanting little laugh at him. 

"Pol, your life will last decades, if not centuries, longer than it should while you use magic, as will every sorcerer's. But you will always still have some basic needs that need to be filled. And over time, you will likely find some joy in exploring new bodies, especially those of the other members of the Guild."

She took up her tape measure again and ran it against the length of his cock.

"Just over one and a half marks," she said. "Aren't you a sizable fellow?"

She discarded the tape measure, her unencumbered hands stroking his cock, massaging her spit into his skin. 

"What I'm saying, Pol, is that sooner or later one of your fellow sorcerers is going to want to experience you for the novelty, if nothing else." Praela fixed him with a look, her smile broad and bright. 

"If not most of them," she added. She peered at his cock, her handing pausing in its work to hold him as though she were testing the weight and balance. "And isn't sooner better?"

If Pol had at all had the will to argue, it left him when Praela's lips found the base of his cock, licking at where it met the rest of his body, before briefly exploring his balls and then traveling back up to take just his head in her mouth, alternating between sucking and licking him as she stared up into his eyes, daring him to say something to stop her.

Pol placed a hand on her head, his eyes closing, his body reveling in the sensations emanating from Praela's incredible mouth as she turned a careful attention to her work, starting slow and steady with the just tip of his cock her mouth had already taken possession of. She pushed down his cock, one hand stroking him to meet her lips while the other played with his balls. 




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 09



It wasn't long before Pol's pleasure reached his breaking point, and he groaned in warning, but Praela simply murmured happily, and pushed further along his cock, narrowing her hand's grip on him until she was stroking less than the width of two fingers back and forth. Pol pulled her hand away, locking his own behind her head, his hips thrusting, driving himself as deep as he could as he came. 

Praela was still for a moment, anticipating the warm flood that came pouring out of Pol's cock, allowing it to almost fill her mouth before she took her first swallow, then clamping her lips around his member. She retreated slowly, sucking hard as she released him, her hand resuming its previous work, milking Pol of his cum into her mouth until there wasn't a drop left.

Praela stood, her smile never leaving her lips as Pol leaned against the wall for support. She dressed without paying Pol any mind, then walking to the door.

"That's all for now, Pol, but if you do have any questions, about the Guild or its history, I do hope you'll come visit me in the Archives," she said, opening the door. She snapped her fingers again, the massive tome of students flying across the room to follow her as she exited.

Bollu entered the room, grinning over his shoulder at Praela, then at the naked Pol. The Master of Lore placed a pile of clothes on the bed.

"Better get dressed," he said. "Almost time for dinner."

Pol spent most of the rest of the evening in a haze, briefly remembering heading to dinner where many of the Sorcerers were concerned with asking him most of what Praela had, venturing their theories for why his magical powers had demonstrated themselves so late, from a particularly low source node in the Lowvale region, to the possibility that it was awakened by true love, a prospect that was roundly laughed at and mocked as preposterous by all but the bookish young apprentice loremaster that had suggested it. 

Wine and ale and dragon water was broken out when the sun settled over the horizon and Pol indulged in nearly everything offered, and was offered nearly everything, leaving him in poor condition to find his way back to his rooms.

He certainly couldn't remember how he'd gotten there when Margase arrived in the morning to blind him with light when she pulled aside the curtains and usher him off to breakfast, this time in a loose fitting robe. After breakfast she took him to the training yard, where she attempted to get a measure of Pol's abilities, but mostly discovered his ability to control his stomach after a night of heavy drinking. Pol's attention was poor for anything else.

After lunch, Margase led him to Waldrin, who gave a long and fairly involved lecture on Pol's responsibility as a Sorcerer, and how his rank entitled him the respect of every citizen of Tia Vashil, and would find that many citizens in Tia Joi and Coulain would show him the same deference should he request it, but that as an unofficial rule the Sorcerers did not demand that protocol be respected in their presence and few made it even known they were magical adepts unless it was of critical importance. This suited Pol just fine. No one had ever bowed and scraped to him, and he was unlikely to want to draw attention to himself in any way. Nearly a decade of going where he wasn't wanted had taught him that.

After sitting in a chair listening to Waldrin drone on, Pol was feeling healthy again, but rather than go outside to practice again, Margase escorted him down into the bowels of the Guild Rock to Carista. The distractingly curvy Sorcerer outlined the various rare ingredients and artifacts, most of which had names so complicated that Pol promptly forgot them and their purposes. 

It seemed nearly dinner time, but Margase led him to a small antechamber. Through the door he could hear the sound of voices chanting. 

"What's through there?" he asked.

"The Grand Hall of the Guild," answered Margase. "But before we enter, please disrobe."

"Oh, no," said Pol. "I'm not falling for this trick again."

Margase clapped her hands and the door to the Grand Hall opened long enough for two Sorcerers, a man and a woman, both nude, enter. The sound of the chanting that swept in with them was deafening until the door closed. The man was carrying a silver half-mask, depicting a person wearing a crown of crescent moons. The woman was carrying a small brush and a small bucket of paint.

Margase undid her dress clasps, the garment she'd been wearing a wine-red dress that collapsed at her feet, and Pol drank in the sight of her pale skin, the freckles stars across her body, a zodiac from her small pert breasts to her shapely rump. 

"There is no trick," she said, the last word sounding bitter in her mouth. "The Rite of Renewal requires you to be as the First Man was. He wore no clothes, and neither must you."

Pol flushed with embarrassment, more at angering Margase than once again being forced into the buff in front of his new peers. He shed his clothes hurriedly, turning back to Margase when he was fully naked. She nodded to the two other Sorcerers in the room. The man placed the mask on Pol's head, securing it tightly in the back. The woman began to paint careful stylized moons and three-pointed stars in silver across his body, starting with his face and working her way down until all his skin save that of his cock was covered with the designs. 

When Margase was satisfied Pol was prepared, she led him into the Grand Hall.

She stopped him as they slipped inside, and Pol stared through his mask. When Margase had taken him through the Grand Hall the day before, he had thought it mostly an overly large dining hall, with a towering buttressed high ceiling, and two massive spherical lamps and rows upon rows of tables and benches. Now it had been cleared of all furniture, save for a circular platform, covered with indigo cloth and set on a massive swatch of similar material in the center of the hall. And for the seven chairs on the dais at the front of the hall, five of which were occupied.

Along the walls, a vast collection of men and women, every Sorcerer the Guild could muster, stood naked, chanting. The two people who'd prepared Pol rejoined the walls. Another woman, still chanting, appeared and handed Margase a sheer robe.

On the dias, Bollu stood. In his hand he held a long metal rod, which he rapped against the stone beneath his floor. The chanting diminished in volume, but did not cease and Bollu's voice echoed with an unnatural ability to be heard above the din.

"Before the world was born there was nothing," he intoned. "No earth, no sea. No forest, no fawn, no humanity. No light." 

He rapped the rod again, three times loudly, and both lamps went out at the same time. The room descended into shadow, lit in blood red by the light from the setting sun coming in through the small windows at the top of Grand Hall's ceiling. Pol reached out a hand in front of him to test if he could see. Thinking something else, Margase took it, squeezing gently.

"There was only the sky, and only Vash the Sky Dragon. And Vash looked upon her endless domain and she sang,"

The chanting became markedly different, and Pol began to realize that the sorcerers were arrayed as a massive choir, and where once each voice had said the same thing in the same tone, now men sang different from women, and within those division, not every woman sang the same, nor every man. The chant had become a song, more beautiful than ever he had heard, although Pol's experience with song was mostly confined to children's rude rhymes, bawdy tavern songs, and the odd bard's romantic composition. 

"Is this the Song of the World?" he called out to Margase.

She shook her head. "No, of course not. No human has ever heard that. It is inspired by the world."

"And at the beauty of Vash's singing, the sky wept, and its tear was the world, with the earth, the sea, and the forest and the fawn," intoned Bollu from the dais. "And Vash set the sun in the sky so that the world could see itself in the day." 

He brought the rod down hard, so that sparks went curling into the air off the stone. One of the two massive lamps burst into life, golden and shining far above their heads. 

"And with the rising of sun rose the First Woman."

From the other side of the Grand Hall, a woman, naked save for a golden half mask, crowned in sun rays and her skin painted gold, led by Carista, walked from where she'd stood by the wall, unseen by Pol, to the indigo-clothed platform. When she was near to it, Carista stopped and turned to face her.

"And the First Woman was lonely and wanton."

Carista fell to her knees, pushing apart the long shapely legs of the Rite's First Woman. The Sorcerer pushed her mouth against the golden woman's slit, and though the First Woman's moan was lost behind the song, Pol could see it leave her lips. 

"And Vash set the moon in the sky so that the world could see itself in the night."

The sharp rap of Bollu's rod caught him by surprise and Pol jumped as the second lamp burst to life, this time filling the room with a white-blue light. 

"And with the rising of the moon rose the First Man."

Margase was pulling on his hand, and Pol had no choice but to follow her as she led him out into the center of the Grand Hall. Like Carista had with her charge, she held him up before they fully reached the platform, stopping and facing him.

"And the First Man was lonely and wanton."

Margase dropped to her knees, lifting Pol's cock into her mouth. He groaned and grew hard. For the second time in two days, a Sorcerer had her lips wrapped around him. He would not have imagined this in his wildest dreams. There was only one other person who could understand what he was experiencing.

He raised his eyes from where Margase's hungry mouth was plunging along his length to the First Woman in front of him. She was tall, almost as tall as him, her body fit and firm, her generous breasts capped with wide brown nipples, the skin, where not painted gold, a tan bronze. He could not make out her hair, it must have been disguised behind her mask, but as he looked upon her, enjoying the attentions of Carista's tongue on her cunt and clit, her eyes opened and Pol stared into their emerald depths.

Kiera. 

"And as the sun and the moon met, and the sun yielded the world to the moon, the First Woman and the First Man met, and were joined beneath neither sun nor moon, neither day nor night. 

Carista and Margase stood, their duties relieved, but Pol merely stood staring at Kiera on the opposite side of the platform. Margase gave him a gentle push, causing his need to touch the indigo cloth, and he realized it was a gigantic circular mattress. Margase and Carista climbed the dais to take their seats, leaving the pair on the bed together. Pol lifted his other knee and shuffled forward, as Kiera crawled to meet him in the center of the mattress. 

Pol reached out a hand and she took it in hers, their fingers entwining. He pulled her into him, marveling at the softness of her skin, the way her breasts felt pushed against his chest, his cock pushed up against the soft hair above her pussy. He freed his hand from hers, sending it stroking down her back while the other explored her smooth, round buttocks.

Pol tried to think of something to say, but he lost himself as her face drew close to his, her green eyes enticing him, begging him, the only indication on the mask that she felt anything at all, the damp warmth of her breath against his lips and he took the hand from her back, wrapping it through her hair, pulling her mouth to his.

Their lips locked and they began to forget the presence of the booming voice on the dais, or the hundreds of naked bodies surrounding them, singing the Rite's song. There was only Kiera's body against Pol's, his warm chest against hers as he drew her over his lap, his cock sandwiched between them, her breasts flattened against him save for the hard nipples that capped them. One hand stroked the back of his neck, while her other reached between them, the hot, pulsing rod of Pol's manhood filling her palm as she gripped him. 

She rose onto her knees, placing them over Pol's legs, Pol's chin rising to maintain the joining of their mouths as her tongue worked her way between his lips. The hand on his cock pulled on it, guiding his hips forward until she felt the smooth head of his cock graze against the opening to her pussy, her lower lips wet and ready from Carista's attentions, and she lowered herself onto Pol's cock.

His hips rose to meet hers and for a moment they were simply still, each one reveling in the feel of the other, the sweet way Pol filled her body, the eagerness with which Kiera gripped him. Pol shifted his weight and Kiera gasped as the angle of his cock changed inside her, radiating pleasure through her whole body. She began to move, her pelvis rising and falling along Pol's length. He began to move in time with her.

Kiera broke her lips off his, moaning, arching her back as she dug her pussy tighter against Pol's hips, desperate to fit him deeper inside her. His hands rode along her spine, cradling her, letting her lean back as far as she could manage and she thrilled to feel his strong fingers press against her skin. He kissed the tops of her tits, his warm mouth descending to find the nipple of her right breast and gently hold it in place as their bodies moved. 

Kiera tucked her feet under her knees, squatting over Pol, his cock buried inside her. Her hands found his shoulders, pushing him down and away from her, until he lay face up beneath her, his hands holding her ankles. She missed their feel on her body, but the new angle gave her almost complete control over him. She kept one hand on his chest, the other falling to find her clit, stroking across it as she impaled herself over and over on his cock. 

Pol's hips moved and Kiera froze, her mouth opening in a small "o" as Pol began to piston at a rapid pace in and out of her. He sat up, his hands wrapping around the back of her neck and the base of her spine, dragging her down, her knees falling, her body laying across his and she bit at his ear. He bent his legs, his cock rising, pumping into her pussy as she played with herself.

Kiera's orgasm burst upon her, and she turned and screamed wordlessly, the sound getting swallowed by the choir of sorcerers around them. Pol only maintained his pace, drawing her pleasure out, her world nothing but blazes of color and the feeling of the thick cock driving deep inside her. 

When he felt her orgasm begin to subside, his speed began to slacken, until he slipped out of her, raising her knee to give him room to slide out from underneath her. Kiera felt empty with his leaving, but she was also unable to consider much but to collapse face down on the mattress. She felt Pol's hands on the back of her thighs, pressing her legs together until she was lying prone beneath him. 

He straddled her, and she felt his cock in the cleft of her ass, slick and warm from her pussy. Pol's hand lowered his cock, placing it between the tightly sealed lips of her pussy, held that way by her closed legs. He pushed on and this time is was his turn to moan at how she felt around him, her pussy soft, but yielding no more than it absolutely had to to accommodate his cock.

He plunged into her, his pace picking up where it had driven her to coming, watching as his hips collided with her ass, setting it to shaking with every thrust. Kiera couldn't see him, but she felt it when he leaned over her, his elbows resting next to her head, his chest against her back, his lips on the nape of her neck, so that he was practically lying on top of her, except for where his cock was driving her mad between her legs. Pol sharpened his approach, so that his cock pushed down against her pussy walls, rather than just forward into her and she gasped and bit his arm a little but Pol just drove harder into her.

He reared up, placing his hands on her shoulders, pressing her against the mattress, his pace intensifying, and Kiera lifted her rump to give his cock better penetration into her, taking his pleasure from her, using her body for his own ends. 

Kiera felt her own pleasure growing, and to preempt it, she pulled forward, enough that Pol's cock fell out of her when his hips moved back to plow into her again. Kiera rolled onto her back, facing him, freeing her legs from under him, spreading herself wide, her pussy opening to him. She stared up at Pol, his grey eyes wild with lust under his silver mask, his body covered in silver runes of the moon and stars like hers was covered in gold runes for the sun and wind. 

Pol slid forward, his cock pressing into her, filling her again in the same sweet way it had when she'd forced him inside of her at the beginning of the rite. He left one leg outstretched, his right bending under her left leg as she wrapped around him, welcoming him deep inside her. One hand cupped her ass, holding her as he thrust, while his other played with her breasts. Kiera groaned into his ear, the heat spreading through her body while Pol began to feel his cock readying. Her hips were shifting, her hands clasping his ass as he thrust into her, her legs locked around his, keeping him in place. 

Pol turned his face to her, his mouth half open, and she met him, her lips opening at the same time. His tongue made its way to find hers. He began to moan as he neared the brink and at the same time, Kiera moaned her pleasure.

Their mutual climaxes came on them like the sudden summer storms that caught unsuspecting travelers in pouring rain while the sun still shone. Kiera's pussy clamped even tighter around Pol, the both of them moaning as his cum came pouring out of him, filling her up. His pace became uneven and ragged, but still he thrust, her pussy encouraging him to more, his throbbing cock obliging, continuing to pulse and spurt inside her as she rode her own waves of pleasure, amplified by the glorious full feeling she was experiencing.

The chanting began to seep back into their world, the Sorcerers' voices once again united in the same melody. The runes on Kiera's skin began to glow, as did Pol's, the light rising straight into the air above them, gold and silver mixing into a shining ball over their heads.

Bollu's voice thundered above the din of the chanting. "And Vash sang their love to all the world, to the sky and sea and earth, the river and forest. And so was magic born in the world."

He brought his metal rod slamming down to the ground, the sharp sound of it echoing off the walls.

The shining ball erupted, bathing the entire hall in a blinding light, each person's skin alight. The chanting ceased and the gathered Sorcerers began the file out of the hall, the High Council walking down from the dais.

Pol raised himself up on his hands, staring down at Kiera's nude body beneath him, his cock still buried between her folds, still hard, both of them panting hard from their work. He raised a hand to his mask, pulling it away, then did the same for her mask, revealing her whole face to him. She stared into his eyes for a moment. 

"Kiera," he murmured, and he leaned forward to kiss her.

Her hand caught his chest, stopping him, and she pulled off his cock, slipping out from underneath him. 

"Kiera," he said, as she rolled away from him and sat up on the edge of the bed. "That was..."

"Nothing, Pol," she said. She didn't look him in the face and he moved to join her. "It was the First Man and the First Woman. It's nothing to do with us. You're still a Sorcerer. I'm still a Noble lady. We both have other obligations and duties." 

"Kiera, don't pretend like you didn't enjoy that as much as I did."

She turned to him, the offense visible on her face.

"I'm not," she said. "I very much enjoyed it. I loved it, even. I want to do it again, even right now, but it can't happen."




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 10



There were fucking bells chiming. 

It was a fine hangover Pol was experiencing and now there were bells ringing away like he was back in Lowvale on Fire Night, everyone ringing bells to drive away the spirits and distributing candy to the children. He'd used to love Fire Night. 

Just now, though, he wanted to melt down all the bells in Tia Vashil and pour the molten metal down the rectum of whoever was ringing the damnable things.

He'd been drinking himself into a stupor nightly for the two weeks after the Rite of Renewal. It had, apparently, worked. For every sorcerer except Pol, that was. He saw acolytes and some of the Master laughing giddily as they performed some extraordinary magic, and Margase had appeared to have lost a good ten years off her age, the worry lines in her mouth that had been so deeply cut when he'd first met her were far more shallow. 

But nothing had happened to Pol. Bollu had carefully explained that it was something to do with Pol's age being significantly less than the other sorcerers' and compression, but he'd barely understood it. He wasn't much younger was the gist. Maybe a few months, if that. 

And neither had his magic much improved. Destroying things, he was good at destroying things, but only by accident. Margase would try to instruct him on more subtle magic-moving the damned rock, trying to turn a red dress green, preventing a pond from rippling when a stone was tossed into it, but nothing had worked. The only time he did magic was when he lost his temper in frustration, and then he'd destroyed the rock, caused the dress to lose its color and then crumble into dust, and evaporated the pond. 

And through it all, he couldn't stop thinking of Kiera. He hadn't seen her since the Rite. The Exarch had paid him a courtesy call, but it had been brief and polite; technically Pol outranked Ked vai Ullan now. He'd given Pol limited information on Kiera. She was fine, Pol learned. Busy returning to her normal life.

With his magic ineffective and Kiera apparently out of his, Pol's life consisted mainly of the two things he'd learned to do best when not being a thief: he drank, and he fucked. Praela had been right. There were more than enough interested sorcerers who'd wanted a piece of him. His bed had never lacked for company at night. But in the morning his companion would be gone, and he'd be left with himself, and his thoughts, and his hangover.

And these Vash damnable bells. 

Every morning, like clockwork, the bells chimed out the hour warning to market opening. The whole city seemed oriented around this sound. The Guild Rock would spring to life. By the time the bells sounded again for market open, most of the Guild would have eaten their breakfast, then on to other work. The next bell was midday, and then another warning bell in the evening for an hour to closing, and then the closing bell.

Except every bell in the city had to ring out for each of the five. In Lowvale, the bells had been for special occasions and special occasions only: weddings of important people, deaths of very important people, fire, a Dragon Clan invasion (not that Pol'd ever heard them ring for that), and driving off spirits. The Vashili way of life infuriated Pol with its rigidness. It made him want to steal things.

Instead he stumbled out of the bed and stripped off the clothes he'd been wearing when he'd collapsed onto the mattress the night before, throwing them in a pile by the door. The servants would get them when they brought him his bath. Baths went with bells in Pol's list of things about Tia Vashil that annoyed him. He realized with a start that he'd grown oddly used to the servants, that they'd simply faded into the background, here he was sitting naked waiting for them to arrive with the bath, and he wouldn't feel self conscious at all in front of them. They'd become furniture faster than he'd ever thought. It made his skin crawl a little how easy it had been. 

However there would be no taking servants for granted today: his bath was attended by a young gentleman with a set of ostentatious mustaches that hung down past his chin, and a doublet that to describe as colorful did not do justice.

"Who are you?" asked Pol, jumping up as the man followed the girl with the hot water into the room.

"Your magicness," the young man. "I am but the humble Artan duVahn, an artist of great renown, brought low by the recent troubles of my fair and native city of Tia Joi, fled to the bosom of Tia Vashil, who now finds himself working as (and applies his considerable talents to being) a gentleman's gentleman to the most esteemed company of gentlemen: the Guild of Sorcerers."

"Oh," said Pol. He climbed into the bath and sighed when the water was added. The heat soothed his aching head a little. 

"I'm Pol," he said. "Pol Burr. I was a thief until a few weeks ago."

Artan gave him a knowing look. "We are of a pair, your magnificence. Both of us, men of high stature brought low by recent and unexpected events." 

Pol chuckled. "I suppose so." He found the brush and soap in his bath, scrubbing himself. "Take a seat, Artan. You're making me uncomfortable. And please, just Pol is fine."

Artan found a chair and sat, crossing one leg over the other's knee and propping an elbow up on the armrest. 

"You are most kind, Pol."

"Like I said, I was a thief, until a few weeks ago. I don't need a lot of bowing and scraping. You were an artist? What did you paint?"

"Sculpture was always my most passionate strength, but I was more than talented with a brush as well," Artan conceded. "I once had the esteemed pleasure of painting the Princess Fione vai Joi, the most beautiful woman in all the known world, now an unfortunate prisoner of the hated Dragon Clans." 

"Do you always say everything ten times as long as you need to, Artan?"

"If it's worth being said, sir, it's worth being said right."

"Hmmph. What was painting the princess like? I've never met a princess."

"I was told you knew the Exarch's daughter, Pol," said Artan. "The other servants were very clear about this. They say you're very close friends."

It might have been Pol's imagination, but it seemed like Artan had stressed the word "close." How much did he know?

"She's not a princess, is she?"

"Equal in rank. If you took him across the Sea of Lashes, he would equal any of the Kings there. Therefore, his daughter is equal to that of a princess."

"Well, in any respect, I'm not sure we're friends anymore."

"Something happen?"

"I'd rather not talk about it. What was the princess like?"

"Well, it was a rather strange request, Pol. She wished to be painted in the nude."

"Oh."

"Which is not a new thing for me. Many fine men and women of many backgrounds wish for their bodies to be immortalized on canvas by my paints and brushes. But Princess Fione, her request was unique, for she wished to be painted naked in the act of being...taken...by a man."

"You painted a picture of the Princes of Tia Joi being fucked?"

"Please, sir, such crudity does not suit a Sorcerer of Tia Vashil's Guild. I painted a picture of Princess Fione vai Joi in the act of making love."

"Who with?"

"Whoever was her favorite at the time-I forget if it was Lord Martimar or the Baronet Lindfurn. It might have been the both of them. We had to do a few sessions, and her paramour's face was not to be included in the picture. She wished to be displayed in three-quarters profile on her back, while the gentleman held her legs and entered her. It was very easy for her to maintain her pose, but whichever man it was had a difficult time maintaining his..."

"Cock's pose?"

"You are a cad, sir," said Artan, but Pol could see he was amused. "I believe it may have, in part, led to his dismissal from court, actually. The princess never had an easy temper."

The market bells were ringing for the second time that morning again, and Artan glanced up.

"I was also informed that Mistress Margarse seeks your presence in the training yard after breakfast," he said.

"Uggh," said Pol, closing his eyes and sinking under the water of the bath.

*****

Margase was not been as easy to shut out as the world had been. Once he'd run out of breath, he'd had to surface, whereupon Artan helped him dress and went to breakfast with him. The sculptor seemed to talk endlessly, and the two traded stories, Artan of his daring exploits at the court of Tia Joi, and Pol of his daring exploits on the roofs of Lowvale. At breakfast, Artan made his excuses and Pol wandered to the training yard alone. 

"Again," said Margase.

"It's not going to move!" said Pol. "You and I both know it's not going to move, so what's the point of trying to make it move?"

"The point, Acolyte Pol," said Margase, her voice sharp and pointed. "Is that you must learn to be a sorcerer, and you must learn as much as you can of being a sorcerer. We are under a grave threat, and it you will be of no use to anyone if you cannot master magic. Now try and move the rock again."

"In the story books, the sorcerers always chant or do incantations or use an old book, or something. How am I just supposed to look at a thing and have it be done?"

"Because that is true magic, Pol. Because we are not street performers, calling people up and guessing at their past and making vague predictions of their future from a deck of playing cards or turning handkerchiefs into doves. We are Sorcerers, Pol. Our will is the world. Anything we determine we want to happen must happen, so long as we face it with the right determination. Now-Kili take you-move the rock!"

Pol stared at the rock. His will was the world. He simply had to will the world to be one where the rock lifted off the pedestal. It seemed impossible. Margase had encouraged him to start with a more believable outcome, moving the rock a little bit to the left, but that only seemed slightly less impossible. He started to concentrate. Maybe if he...

"How goes it?" came a female voice, cutting through his thoughts.

"Vash damn it," said Pol, turning to see who'd interrupted him.

"It would go better without distractions, Mistress Heldi," said Margase. Pol only mildly agreed with her. Heldi was undoubtedly a distraction. She wore a white jacket, contrasting markedly with the dark walnut of her skin, the laces of the front undone nearly to her waist, exposing her navel and the generous canyon of her cleavage and that she'd neglected to wear an undershirt. Her long hair, folded into a braid, had become trapped in that canyon. A light tan petticoat fell just below her knees, and her low-heeled leather boots ran up her legs to meet it somewhere above the hem. She was smiling at Pol, and he was content to let her smile at him. Distraction was quite apt. But would the lesson be better without the Master of War? Pol thought not.

"Unable to be helped, I suppose," Heldi dismissed Margase's concern. "How goes the progress, Pol?" 

"Not well," said Pol. "Isn't there something simpler than rock moving?"

"No, moving rocks is pretty simple," said Heldi. She glanced at the rock, and the black stone ball rolled along the surface and then through the air as though it were on an invisible table top. It stopped in the middle of its movement, then rolled back the way it had came, coming to rest where Pol had first encountered it at the start of his lesson.

"See?" she said.

"Well, fine, if you're so good at it, what do you need me for?" Pol asked. "I'll just go back to Lowvale. I'm sure they've forgotten all about Sir Vallan by now."

"Oh, no," said Heldi. "You must not give up, Pol. You must just try again. And again until you've got it."

"As I've told him," said Margase. 

"Why?" asked Pol. "What do you need me for? A weird rite? A fresh face?"

"Oh, more than that, Pol, more by far," said Heldi. "You know, before you came, our magic was weakening and I don't think it would have recovered if not for you in the Rite of Renewal. I don't think there was another warlock in the world with as much innate power as you. I'm not sure there's another Sorcerer in the world with such power, come to think on it. We need you, Pol. We needed you to restore us. And with the Dragon Clans in control of Tia Joi, we need you more than I possibly could have imagined three months ago."

Pol didn't look at Heldi. He was confused, and part of him felt like crying in frustration, and part of him felt ashamed for not living up to Heldi's conception of him. Of the need she expressed on behalf of the Guild.

"I can't move the rock," he confessed.

"I know," said Heldi. She looked at Margase. "Would you mind if I instructed Pol for a little bit?"

"Be my guest," said Margase.

Heldi stared at her when she didn't move.

"Privately," added Heldi. Margase shrugged, and exited the courtyard. 

Heldi took Pol's hands in hers and stared up at him. Her smile was bright and reassuring.

"Magic is steered by desire, Pol," she said. "Has Mistress Margase told you this?"

"Something like that. She said during my trial that magic could give me anything or anyone I wanted. And she keeps saying 'our will is the world' when she talks about how to move the rock."

Heldi nodded.

"That's part of it, that's the Guild motto: 'Hum imdi qul vashi' translated from the dragons' tongue. But at a more base level, magic is all about what we want to happen. It's not enough, Pol, that we believe something should happen. We need to desire something will happen. You need to want to do magic."

"I do," said Pol. "I want to move the damn rock."

"I'm sure that's true in your head, but is it true in your heart?"

Pol paused. 

"I don't know," he said after a while. Heldi nodded at him.

"Mistress Margase is a logic, orderly person, Pol. She has been in charge of her own world since before she came to the Guild. Her family once controlled nearly all the grain shipments in the Metropolises, though that was many decades ago. It's easy for her to reconcile the way she thinks things should be with the way she wants things to be. She was a very fast student for Master Waldrin, who thinks in much the same way.

"But you and I, Pol, we're not orderly thinkers, are we? We're used to being pushed along by the world, not controlling it. We react. We don't think too much about what we want or how things should be, we simply try and make the best of the things that are. And that makes learning magic very difficult. When I was a student, my teacher was Master Ivain. He was well skilled in the concept of desire, Pol. Do you understand what I'm saying?" 

Pol's brow furrowed and he stared at her. "I don't think I d-"

Heldi's kiss caught him by surprise, as the Sorcerer lifted onto her tip toes and pressed her lips against his open mouth. Her mouth was hungry, her teeth tugging gently on his lower lip before opening again to force her tongue against his. His shock was only momentary, and he began to return her kiss. But Heldi broke their lips apart, her tongue sliding past his mouth and exploring his ear. He ran his hands along her sides, grabbing the firm curve of her waist, before stroking up her body. A hand lifted his chin and Heldi kissed at where his jaw met his neck, before kissing down it to his collarbone.

Pol's hands reached for her tits, but Heldi grabbed his wrists and stepped back from him.

"Do you desire me, Pol?" she asked.

"Yes," murmured Pol. 

"Do you desire my body?"

"Yes," said Pol, some enthusiasm leaking into his voice.

"Would you like to see my body? Touch it?" Heldi's voice was getting lower, but her lids seemed heavy, her eyes dark with dilated pupils.

"Yes," groaned Pol.

Heldi leaned forward, her mouth hot in his ear. 

"Move the rock, Pol," she said. 

Pol groaned with disappointment, his head turning to look at the rock. He gestured at the black ball, giving it a perfunctory wave, as though brushing dust from a shirt sleeve. The rock flew from its perch, landing with a dull thud as it embedded itself in the lawn of the courtyard.

"Good," purred Heldi. With a practised tug, she tore loose the last of the laces holding the front of her jacket together, though the effort seemed superfluous as she shrugged out of her sleeves. He stared down at her heavy breasts rising and falling slightly with her every breath. Pol stepped forward, folding her into an embrace as he kissed her again. Heldi began to surrender herself as his tongue explored her mouth, until Pol brought up one hand to knead her breast, tweaking the fat nipple between his fingers. A sharp intake of breath told him of her pleasure and the corners of his mouth slipped into a grin. 

Heldi broke the kiss, catching him smiling. She rolled her eyes, her head shaking, but her own smile giving her away. She pushed on his chest, sending him stumbling backwards a ways, and she pushed him gently again until the back of his knees pressed against a stone bench. He sat down on it. Heldi climbed onto it after him, her knees on either side of his lap, her hands grasping the side of his face as she lifted it for another deep kiss, and Pol fondled her ass through her petticoat.

With a parting nip at his lower lip, she reared up in his lap, feeding the same nipple he'd tweaked to his lips, groaning as Pol pulled as much of it as he could manage into his mouth. Pol's other hand stroked up the warm bare skin of her side until it found her other tit, squeezing and kneading at it. Heldi's moans of pleasure made him ravenous, desperate to draw more noises out of her body. He felt her cheek press against the top of his head as she bowed over him.

"You could have my whole body, you know," she whispered, her voice laden heavy with the promise. "Would you like to know how?" 

Pol tilted his head to look up at her, her breast exiting his mouth save for the warm nub he kept trapped between his upper teeth and the tongue he was using the lash at it. Heldi's dark brown eyes were gleaming at him. He nodded.

Heldi smiled and looked about the courtyard. 

"There," she said, pointing. "Make me a gift of that statue. Bring it here."

Pol glanced at where she was pointing. The statue she was talking about was a bust of some long dead Sorcerer, fixed to corner of the balustrade that ran along the edge of a terrace overlooking the courtyard. 

"This might be harder than a rock," murmured Pol.

Heldi groaned a little in disappointment when her nipple left Pol's mouth as he spoke, but she quickly composed herself.

"Could you make me a gift of the rock?" she asked.

Pol looked at the black stone ball sitting inert in the grass. He beckoned at it, finding indeed that gestures were conducive to magic, and the ball lifted into the air, flying towards the grass before the bench. He and Heldi were both forced to lift their feet up to avoid being hit by the ball as it bounced in the grass and rolled under the bench, hitting the wall of the courtyard with a loud smack. 

"Sorry," said Pol. 

"It's okay, Pol. I just wanted to see that you could move it. The statue is the same idea, you'll just have to be slightly more careful with it. It won't be as easy for us to dodge."

Pol stared at the bust. He took both hands, holding them out palms tilted slightly up, as though he were gripping under something, like the shoulders of the bust. He lifted slightly. Cracks began to form along the railing, and the baluster the bust was sitting on began to move upwards.

"Careful," said Heldi, touching at his elbow. "Just the statue, not anything else."

Pol considered this, concentrating his focus on the bust itself. The baluster stopped trembling, but the bust did not. Careful. He needed to be careful as well. His fingertips felt numb.

A nearly perfectly flat crack opened up between the bust and the baluster, and Pol saw light slip between it. He lifted his hands higher and the bust rose into the air. With a gentle rolling come-hither motion in both hands, Pol summoned the bust, watching as it floated towards where he and Heldi sat entwined. With a final motion, as if setting a vase down on an unstable table, Pol turned his hands flat, palms facing the ground. The bust wobbled a little in the grass and then sat still. 




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 10



Heldi smiled, lifting herself back up to stand in front of Pol as she shed her petticoat and undergarments, discarding them over the bench. Naked save for her boots, she approached him, her nipples level with his eyes.

Pol grabbed her with his right arm, pulling her tight to him by her waist, her hands finding his shoulders to brace herself. His ran his lips along the undersides of her breasts, his tongue lapping at the space between. His left hand tucked under her ass, exploring back along her body until his fingers were probing at the soft outer lips of her pussy. Heldi groaned as the tips of two of his fingers slipped inside her momentarily as he dragged them across her sex.

Pol looked up at her and grinned, and she barely had time to seize the back of his head and shoulders and tighten her chest to his face for balance as the hand on her waist began to pull her around, while the other arm tucked under her knees, lifting her into a sitting position as Pol crouched out of the bench. He was deceptively strong, holding her carefully as he placed her on the bench next to where he'd been sitting as he knelt in front of her. 

His hands forced Heldi's thighs up and apart, and Pol slipped his shoulders under her knees. He was kissing her stomach, his tongue tracing around the border of her navel, then heading lower. 

"Pol, do you..." Heldi began, but quickly forgot herself. 

Pol's mouth was exploring her left thigh, working his way to her knee before he switched to her right leg and worked back to the junction of her legs. He sucked at the meeting of thigh and fleshy full hips, his hands stroking along the sides of Heldi's bare ass. He ran his lips and nose over her pubic mound. It was scratchy, shaved a few days prior, unlike her legs which had been shaved smooth recently. His chin made accidental contact with the hood of Heldi's clitoris, causing her to arch her back. He supposed he could relent. 

His tongue snaked forward, licking her along the length of her cunt. As he probed her clit with the tip of his tongue, he ran two fingers along her slit until they were coated in her juices and the saliva from his mouth. With a slow care, he pushed his fingers past her lower lips, plunging them into her body.

Heldi groaned, one hand grabbing at his hair, the other squeezing and pulling at her breast. She groaned again when his fingertips found the rough spot on the wall of her pussy, her legs straightening slightly over Pol's shoulders, the hand in his hair pulling him closer.

Pol's tongue was whipping back and forth against Heldi's clit, his fingers working in as far as they could go and then back out until just the tips were left inside, and he could see Heldi's chest rising and falling in time with each thrust of his hand, each one meeting less and less resistance as her body smoothed the way for him. Heldi was playing with one of her own nipples, biting her lower lip, her eyes squeezed shut, her other hand cupping the back of his head to her. 

She shifted suddenly, and he lost the rhythm on her clit. The hand on his head dragged it away from her body, and he looked up to see her smiling at him. One smooth leg disentangled itself from Pol's shoulder, and then the other followed its partner. Heldi stood up in front of the kneeling acolyte, Pol's face level with her navel.

"I am dissatisfied with your gift, Pol." The words were a stern rebuke, but there was an arch quality to her voice that made Pol doubt the sincerity.

"Destroy it."

"Easy." The one magic Pol was reliably able to do was destruction. Half the stone balls Margase had brought before him had been blinked out of existence.

"Not your way, Pol," said Heldi, walking a short way away from him. "With your lack of control, I'm liable to lose a leg. Break the statue apart."

"And what do I get for it?" Pol rose to his feet, admiring the nude Sorcerer as she walked back to him.

Her hand grasped at his crotch, sliding across the hard cock mostly hidden beneath his trousers. 

"If you prove to be a gentle touch, I might prove to be the same," Heldi told him.

Pol stared at the bust. It wasn't much taller than his knees. He'd broken it off the balustrade, he reasoned. Breaking it apart shouldn't be much harder. He thought of what breaking something might feel like, snapping a twig, or halving a loaf of hard bread with Kiera on the road. He began to feel the numbness again, but without a hand gesture, it pulsed in his chest, so that he became aware of his heartbeat, but in a way that felt far off and muted, like watching a thunderstorm roll through the sky miles away. 

The bust split down the center, each half tumbling into the grass, and Heldi's hot breath was in his ear as she stood on her tiptoes to whisper "Good. Again," to him. He felt her body pressed against his, her hands undoing his belt.

Pol concentrated again, summoning not only the breaking memories, but the thought of the pieces of the bust breaking, the numbness growing strong again as the pieces of the bust convulsed and snapped in half widthwise. 

Heldi had freed his cock from his trousers, and she was kissing at his neck. Her hand grasped his cock, and Pol groaned at how warm and soft her palm felt against him. Heldi gave him a long, slow stroke, her firm grasp running him from base almost to the darker head of his thick cock. A clear drop of precum slipped out of him, and Heldi wiped it onto her finger tip, where it clung like dew as she brought it to her mouth. Her tongue snaked out, licking it off. 

"Mmm," she said, sucking on her finger as Pol groaned at the sight and the hand on his cock coaxing more of the translucent fluid from him. Heldi began to coat her palm in it, her strokes becoming more vigorous as her hand glided along his shaft, feeling Pol harden further in return. 

"I've changed my mind," she told him. "Put it back together for me."

Pol groaned. 

"Now?"

"While you're motivated to do so, certainly. Don't you think there will be a reward here, too?" Her hand on his cock gave it a firm tug, and her free hand roamed inside his trousers, fondling his balls.

Pol once again turned his attention to the statue, or the pieces of it, anyhow. He was losing patience for trying magic, and was determined to get it over with. Put back together. He gestured with his hands, trying to ignore the delicious sensation of Heldi's fist sliding along his cock, and the four pieces of the statue rose into the air. He pressed his hands together and the four came together, fitting in tightly so that no cracks were visible between them. 

When he set it down, it crumbled back into pieces.

"Vash damn this," said Pol.

"You're making tremendous strides, Pol," Heldi told him. She had both hands around his throbbing manhood now, running them up and down the length of him. "And that was a good try. You just need to focus more on joining." 

"Joining." His tone was dull and flat as he went back to the pieces. Once again numbness coursed through his hands as he arranged the pieces to form the statue. But this time, he held the sensation a little further, pressing a little tighter. It seemed to him like he felt a little resistance, like he was pushing on a stone that refused to move. When he set the statue down, it stayed one piece.

"I did it!" he crowed and then groaned when Heldi knelt in front of him. The beautiful woman held his cock in front of her face, her eyes meeting his. Heldi wrapped one hand underneath the seat of his pants, squeezing one cheek of his ass, her tongue playing with the base of the head where it met the shaft. She pulled him a little closer, until her lips embraced the bottom of his cock and then slid down the shaft towards his balls, which she pulled into her mouth, each in turn. He watched as her full lips traveled back up his length, the tongue swirling around the tip, licking at the fluid she drew from him with her hand. Her big almond eyes held his gaze as her tongue retreated inside her mouth and her mouth approached the head of his cock. Her eyes sparkled as his length disappeared between her lips.

Pol groaned and ran his hands through his hair as Heldi began to go to work on his cock, starting short, slow, and shallow, occasionally popping his cockhead out of her mouth. His shirt was getting in the way and he shed it. He fondled her right tit, pulling at her nipple until he prompted a moan out of her to match the continued litany of noise that trailed out of his mouth. Pol began to sink to his knees, and Heldi backed up until she was on her knees and elbows, sucking on Pol with abandon. She was taking as much as she could handle without gagging, although sometimes she misjudged and sent her saliva trailing down his length. Pol leaned over her, close enough so he could almost kiss her back, his hands cupping her cheeks before one explored her folds. 

Heldi shuddered and moaned around him as he plunged two fingers into her pussy, his fingers extended as far as they could inside her, pressing up against her as he bounced them inside her, causing her ass to bounce and her back to arch a little as he pushed his fingers in and out. She paused in her work, Pol's cock embedded deep in her throat, her nose almost to his crotch, enjoying the feeling as Pol drove his fingers into her again and again. Her mouth tightened around him instinctively, and she gave a grunt of appreciation as Pol moved his cock in her mouth on his own accord, his need desperate. 

With a muffled cry, Heldi came around Pol's fingers, her pussy squeezing tightly, trapping him for a moment inside her as he waggled them against the spongy surface of her sex's wall. 

Pol groaned, his hips pumping with abandon, one hand cupping Heldi's head to him.

"Vash damn," he muttered, his climax building on him. "Vash damn, I'm going to come."

Heldi made a noise of disapproval, pulling away, his fingers and cock sliding out of her at once. She made a pinching motion with her fingers, and Pol's impending climax faded. She stood up.

"Not until I say so," she told him. "Your lessons aren't quite finished." She reached forward and plucked at his shirt, helping him get rid of it when he lifted his arms. It was flung over the bench, and soon his trousers joined it as well. 

Heldi lay on the bench, the clothes making the smooth stone surface slightly more comfortable against her back. Her legs were splayed over the sides, spread for Pol to sit on it horseback in front of her, between her smooth thighs. Heldi reached forward and took his cock in her hand, gently stroking him before pulling the head down to tease against her folds, but never letting Pol slip forward into her when he tried to thrust.

"I'm afraid we're likely to get cold out here without clothes," she noted. "Make us a fire, Pol."

"A fire?" asked Pol. His voice was dull and thick. So far, his lessons had been all about manipulating what was there, not what wasn't. How was he to make fire?

Heldi understood his confusion at once. A laconic smile crossed her lips as she continue to amuse herself with his member, her breath catching in her throat when she brushed the head against the nubbin of her clit. 

"Friction, Pol," she murmured, slipping him the hint. "Friction..." she gasped aloud as she rubbed the head of his cock the other way across her clit. 

"...makes heat, and heat makes fire. Friction."

Pol groaned as she slipped the head of his cock between the very opening of her pussy lips, feeling them squeeze just at the tip before she went back to stroking him, her eyes alight, waiting for him to make a fire. 

Friction. He rubbed his hand across his face. Where it dragged against his skin felt warm, and he caught onto Heldi's hint. 

He rubbed his hands together, staring at the grass next to him, his body twisted slightly away from Heldi. As he pressed skin against skin, feeling how his palms warmed up, the numbness came upon him. It was familiar to him now, easy in its appearance. It felt expected, if not quite natural. He wiped one palm from the base of the other to the tips of his fingers, as though striking a flint.

Flames leapt from him hand, the burst echoing out, setting the air in front of it alight as an ever expanding fireball roared through the courtyard, smashing on the stone wall of the Guild Rock. Flames leapt across the courtyard back at them, and Pol closed his eyes and shielded himself with his arms on instinct, expecting to be devoured by the fire. 

He barely felt any heat at all, and it took him a second to realize that he hadn't actually died. When he looked, Heldi was holding a hand up in a stopping motion, fire not progressing past the wall of shimmering air just a few feet in front of them.

She smiled at him.

"Very good, Pol. I'm sure Margase will teach you control later, but for now, that was very good. You deserve a reward."

Pol gave a wordless exclamation as Heldi lowered the head of his cock, adjusting her hips so her filled her completely, her pussy gripping around him tightly. Pol reached his hands down to hold her waist, trying to steady her as he pumped into her. But as he pulled back for another thrust, the hand Heldi wasn't using to hold back the fire raised into the air in front of him and balled itself into a fist. 

Pol's hips locked in place. He could still move his arms and his head, but his legs, spread across the bench, and his hips where Heldi's legs had wrapped around him were frozen. He stared down at her in confusion.

"You may move when you complete your next task," Heldi told him. "Until then, I will remain in control of your lower half."

As if to drive home this point, Pol felt her pussy squeeze firmly around his shaft. Heldi began to grind her hips against him, sending shivers up his spine as his pleasure built slowly. She seemed to be enjoying it herself, her mouth open in a small circle.

"Hells and dragon's bells," Pol swore, the image of the sorceress writhing on him, even as she held two spells, too much to take. He'd thought he'd take a moment and enjoy himself, but his blood was hot, and he was anxious to seize her hips and plunge himself as deep into her as he could go.

"What is the next lesson?"

"Water," Heldi murmured as she worked his cock with her pussy. "Take the water from the fountain and extinguish this fire. I'd prefer not to be distracted with this barrier spell for any longer."

A small fountain had been set into an alcove in the wall, a metalwork bronze statue depicting a sorcerer casting the water from their hand in an arc. 

Pol tried to push Heldi's presence, her heaving breasts, her full lips parted, the feel of her boots where her legs were wrapped above his buttocks, the ever present hot wet press of her pussy, out of his mind. It was far from easy.

As when he'd drawn the bust through the air, he summoned the water to him with a come hither motion. The stream of water falling from the metalwork sorcerer's hand righted itself, lifting into the air, like a cobra rising out of its basket to a snake charmer's tune. It weaved through the air, collecting over the fire in a great ball as Pol gathered it, connected by the umbilical of the stream to the fountain.

"Good," said Heldi. "Now let it drop."

Pol made a flat smoothing motion with his hands and the ball of water collapsed, extinguishing the fire in a plume of steam that was kept from the pair by Heldi's barrier. When it had dissipated, she let the barrier down, then looked at Pol and released the fist holding his muscles paralyzed.

"Oh, yes, fuck me!" she screamed as Pol slammed forward into her, leaning forward to brace himself against the edge of the bench, his face finding hers for a kiss. Her breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples hard, and her hips lifted as his rose, carried along by the legs twined behind him, so that each thrust drove his cock into her pussy. His movements were hurried and rushed, and he wrapped Heldi in his arms, pulling her up to him, so that he bounced her in his lap, his chin buried in her tits as she bounced along with him. 

"One more challenge, Pol," she grunted as her hands pressed against his chest, pushing him down against the bench. She was riding him now, her hands weaving through her hair. 

"One more challenge and then you can come for me."

Pol groaned. He had not even realized that she was still holding his orgasm from him until she'd mentioned it, but now he felt the frustration of reaching the edge of his pleasure but being unable to continue. His cock was begging for an end to things, and Heldi smiled, feeling it pulse inside her as she rode his bucking hips with abandon.

"What? What?" he asked. 

"Make a man of clay for me," she said. 

"What?"

"I want you to make and animate a clay man. Use the clay from the wet soil you've just made, it should bind him together well enough."

She leaned forward until her lips were in his ear, her hips still bouncing on his.

"Only then will I let you come."

Pol stared at the wet clay and stuck a hand out, as though seizing it in his grasp and lifting as quickly as he could. A column rose out of the ground, about as tall as a man standing.

"Good," gasped Heldi as she reared back up, her arms bracing herself on his knees.

Pol's hand began to move, to shape, and a head, its face nothing more than a nose and some depressions, began to resolve itself. A chest followed, and two arms rose away from the clay, each ending in an ill-defined hand. 

"Oh, yes!" said Heldi. "Just like that. Keep doing that!"

Pol groaned, burning with an ache for the clay man to form. Legs cleaved from the soil and an unsteady foot stepped forward. The clay man stumbled slightly as it became tripped up by its other foot, still attached to the ground. 

"Yes!" cried Heldi. She made a small slicing motion and Pol's pleasure struck him in an instant, overpowering his senses. The clay man seemed to stare at the two, shocked maybe, but only for a second before collapsing into a pile of loam. Pol was moaning as his cock spasmed uncontrollably, spurting his cum into Heldi's folds. She rode him for a few more pulses of his cock, feeling the warm fluid fill her, admiring the satisfied full feeling she gained from the length wrapped inside her pussy before she threw her head back and squeezed her eyes together. Her own orgasm caught her off-guard, though not nearly as surprised by it as Pol had been about his. 

She was reluctant to part from him, instead bracing herself on his chest, the steel leaving his cock gradually enough that she sought to enjoy the last few moments of their coupling.

"Very good, Acolyte Pol," she smiled down at him.

"I wasn't very successful with the clay man," he said, pointing to the pile his creation had disintegrated into.

"I suppose, but then it's a very particular spell you've just done. Not many can perform it."

"Really?"

"Really. In fact, I don't think it's been done in over two hundred years. You'd have to ask Praela for the specifics, but I'd be surprised if that's not about right."

Pol stared at her. "You can't do it?"

"No," said Heldi. She lifted herself off him, gathering her clothes, slipping back into her petticoat and lacing her jacket up the front a ways. 

"What if I'd been unable to do it?"

"Then our lesson would have ended with your desire to come unsatisfied, and my desire to see the spell performed unsatisfied. Instead, it ends on a very high note. Do you think you remember how you did all those things?" 

"I think so, but doesn't this mean I'll always need to have sex to perform them?"

Heldi smiled. "Does the Lady Kiera vai Ullan always need to be in danger for you to destroy something?"

"No..." said Pol. The thought of the Lady Kiera vai Ullan stirred unbidden memories in his mind and he stared at the ground. Heldi frowned at him, as though she'd determined what was on his mind.




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 10



"Then such a thing never need happen again, unless you'd want it to. This was merely a motivation for you. Now you know it can be done, you can simply desire that it happen."

"I guess."

Heldi came forward, leaning down to lift his chin and kiss him long and gentle on the lips, so that his thoughts jumbled until they could focus only on her soft skin. 

"Acolyte Pol Burr," she said, breaking the kiss. "I believe you may be the strongest Sorcerer of the age, you just need to determine whether you want to be or not. Now, come along, there's lunch ready."



Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 11



Kiera had not expected to be personally summoned to the Guild Rock after the Rite of Renewal. In fact, she had consciously avoided the fortress, or as much as she could, given its presence looming in the center of Tia Vashil. A motley collection of warriors sat in what she had been shocked to hear was the closed chambers of the High Council, a modest, unassuming room tucked into a corner of the main keep.

Besides herself, from the Five Noble Families there were Tau, Elina vai Tischer, the twins Ragar and Marga vai Banda, and the grizzled old veteran Islan vai Auin. The famous burgher swordsman Hui Fir sat stroking his chin across the table. Mena Gloss, the master grappler, and Lok Rebyn, said to be the finest archer in the Metropolises, were huddled together beside her, whispering to each other. They had begun flirting almost immediately upon entering and it seemed as though they were now taking any excuse to touch each other.

At the head of the table sat Mistress Heldi. On her right was a man that Kiera recognized as Master Garen, the Guild's Spymaster, though she'd never been introduced to him. He was a striking man, with dark black hair like Kiera's own and dark eyes to match. He and Heldi had the manner of old friends, lovers even, familiar, jovial, shared jokes between them, comfortable reaching out to grasp one another's hands, or stroke a cheek. Sorcerers were well known for the lack of recognition of the limits of respectability. The same sort of behavior that might have earned a censure among the Exarch's court was accepted as the feature of a Guild whose members often had a century of experience with one another. When she had been in Coulain, the Lord Mayor had mentioned to Kiera his thankfulness it was a Noble sent to negotiate with him, rather than one of the "forward Sorcerers."

But the person in the room who had Kiera chewing her lip in consternation was the man to Heldi's left, Sorcerer Pol Burr. She'd have to get used to calling him Sorcerer instead of just "thief." He had been introduced to the company as the Master of War's personal assistant. Kiera, however, noted that there was far more than just a professional atmosphere between Heldi and Pol. More than once her hand had rested on his thigh. Kiera was at least gratified to see that, in the handful of weeks Pol had been at the Guild, he still looked around the room with a sort of uncomfortable awe, clearly not used to dealing with this sort of company. Or perhaps he was merely uncomfortable with sharing a room with her again. 

"Your attention, my fine friends," said Garen.

Hui Fir grumbled. "Not all of us are fine."

"Nor all of us friends," said Islan vai Auin. He was well known to be an advocate for the Guild being removed from the head of governance of Tia Vashil. But he was a dutiful man, and he'd come when called. 

"In this room, consider your natures improved and your comrades increased," said Heldi. "We've not asked you here for semantics on pleasantries."

"What have you asked us here for?" asked Elina. "I see a group of excellent Vashili warriors, but no enemies. Just a few talented sorcerers."

On "talented" she looked in Pol's direction and he grinned. Kiera's cheeks flushed, thinking about the encounter between the two she'd witnessed. A pang of jealousy that Pol wasn't sharing a private joke with her (was there some way to slip in a reference to a manure cart? No, probably not) shot through her, but she did her best to smother the feeling.

"Just so," said Garen. "We've asked you here because you are warriors, and the best the city has to offer. We would like volunteers for a mission to Tia Joi."

The room grew silent as everyone contemplated the request.

"I've been called stupid," said Ragar, into the void of conversation. "But I'm not dumb."

"Why?" asked Mena.

"Because I'm not going up against the Dragon Clans without an army, that's why," answered Ragar.

"No, why would the Guild like volunteers?" asked Mena.

"The Dragon Clans are currently led by a woman called Olene," explained Heldi. "She is the chief of their lead clan, the Sky Clan. While this placed her in a position of importance, it did not ensure loyalty or deference. Much like our own Exarch does not command the fealty of our Five Noble Families, as I'm sure Lady vai Ullan well knows."

Her eyes rested on Kiera, who gave a wan smile. 

"Somehow she managed to secure the support of the other four clans for another war with the Metropolises. Under her leadership, the Clans have behaved...unusually. They moved almost unnoticed to Tia Joi, and defeated the entire Joian army in a single day. Five thousand knights, who have disappeared without a trace.

"She then secured the city of Tia Joi without a siege, and is currently holding the Princess Fione hostage, as well as taken the entire populace as thralls to the Clans."

"They shall pay for any atrocities under their occupation of Tia Joi. Vash damn them," Marga swore.

"We do not believe this is not an occupation. They have brought everyone with them from the West, every child, every thrall," said Garen. "This is conquest. The Clans are here to stay. We are being invaded, and for the first time in our history, the Dragon Clans have taken a city. We expect their next move will be against Tia Vashil and the Guild." 

"So we'll fight," said Tau. "Our walls have withstood the might of the Clans before. We'll fight and we'll win."

"Perhaps," said Heldi. "But it may be a victory we'll wish we'd never won. The Clans have many times our numbers. If they attack the city with even a quarter of their army, the cost of our victory might preclude us from being able to free Tia Joi. And there may be reprisals for opposing them in the first place."

"What reprisals?" asked Tau.

"They'll kill the Joians, starting with Princess Fione," said Kiera. Everyone looked at her.

"The Clans are nomads. They don't build. They believe in hostage-taking. Clan warriors steal their spouses from other clans. It keeps them from total war with one another. A chief's brother might be a hostage and husband to the daughter of that other clan's chief. If she values her brother's life, she can't attack."

"This is our fear," said Garen. "If Tia Vashil does not surrender without a fight, there will be no Tia Joi left to free even if we win the fight. At least from the Guild's perspective, they have a powerful bargaining chip in Princess Fione. She is the last of the vai Joi line, and it is an old family, with few immediate cadets and too many competing claims from others if it ends. If we free Tia Joi but fail to save the Princess, there will be chaos in the aftermath, trying to decide the succession or even establishing a new government entirely. And, despite any rumors you all may have heard of her, Princess Fione is an adept administrator, who can play her subjects like a mon-to box. We need her to hold the city together, come what may."

"You want volunteers to go to Tia Joi, sneak in, pluck the Clans' most high value hostage out from under their noses, then sneak out and make it back to Tia Vashil," Islan summarized.

"Yes," said Heldi.

"And gather whatever intelligence about the Clans and Chief Olene as you can determine," added Garen.

"Is there a plan?" asked Lok Rebyn.

"The outline of one: go to Tia Joi, pose as Dragon Clan warriors, locate the Princess, rescue her if able."

Ragar snorted. 

"Foolishness," he said. "No one here could pose as Dragon Clan. They're far too foreign." 

There was a murmur of agreement. The Clans of the West were wild people, more feral even than the Canians, though not a separate creature like the forest wildmen. The Vashili were bound by rule of law, by money, not by caste, or clan, or some primeval view of honor.

"I could," said Kiera.

The gathered warriors turned to look at her. Heldi smiled.

"How?" she asked.

"In Coulain, I met some of the Earth Clan envoys sent by Chief Forg. They taught me a little. Not enough to make a home, but enough that I wouldn't stand out in a crowd. I'll need to cut my hair again. The warriors generally favor crests. And I'm afraid I have nothing in the way of dragon jade jewelry, or the piercings to hold it. I will look unimpressive in their eyes..."

"That may be to your benefit," said Garen, privately doubting that Kiera could ever be seen as unimpressive. "You may attract less attention that way."

"Lady Kiera," said Heldi. "Will you go to Tia Joi?"

Once again, Kiera felt the weight of the stares of the gathered company. Pol and Tau were looking at her with concern, while the rest of the warriors seemed suspicious or doubtful. Only Garen's and Heldi's faces betrayed nothing of their inner thoughts. 

"Yes," said Kiera.

"Then I'll go as well," said Tau, without thinking.

"Tau..." Kiera reached out to touch his shoulder, but he took her hand instead.

"A year, Kiera. A year apart. I don't know that I can stomach another day separated. And if you don't return from this mission, then neither will I."

"You're not exactly the picture of a Dragon Clan warrior, Tau."

"We'll figure something out. I'll pose as a Joian." 

Heldi nodded. "Very well. Do we have any other volunteers?"

The room was silent, the other invited warriors not meeting anyone's gaze. Kiera tried to see if Elina might agree, but the young woman studiously avoided her, staring instead at one of the tapestries in the chamber. 

"I'd like to go," said Pol.

Now, finally, a flash of emotion across their faces betrayed the Sorcerers' shock. 

"Absolutely not," said Garen.

"It would not be wise, Acolyte Pol," said Heldi.

"Why not?" ask Pol. 

"You're too valuable an asset, Acolyte Pol," said Garen. "In a month or two, when you've refined your mastery, we could put you to work as a Guild agent, but as it stands now, you still need training."

"I'm a thief who's a Sorcerer, Master Garen. Who here is better suited to stealing anything from the Dragon Clans?"

"You are not to go," said Heldi. "That is an order. We can discuss the reasoning later."

"You ought to give them magical support," said Islan. "If you're sending them to die on Guild business, you ought to send a Guild member with them."

Heldi's gaze was cold as it fell on Islan.

"Would you volunteer to go, Lord vai Auin? If you will agree to join Sir Tau and Lady Kiera, then I will happily provide you three with Sorcerer Pol. I might even go in his place. What do you say?"

Islan stared at her for a moment, anger clouding his visage, before his shook his head.

"As I thought. If there are no more volunteers, than Master Garen and I will brief our two new Guild agents about their first, and hopefully only, mission to Tia Joi."

*****

The next morning the road to Tia Joi had been mostly refugees traveling in the opposite direction. Mothers and fathers carrying their children, their possessions stacked in carts or tied to their backs. Many of them had barely that. Kiera had stopped to talk to a few but almost none were from Tia Joi itself, but rather the independent towns and villages that surrounded it, fleeing raiding parties from the Dragon Clans. Their descriptions of the raiders were half-truths, naked men and women with partially shaved heads, tattoos and piercings covered in green jewelry which matched Kiera's experience, but in the stories they were all generally eight to ten feet tall, and if they captured someone, they killed them and then either ate them or bathed in their blood.

They'd seen only one person heading towards the city, a man with long mustaches who'd looked at Kiera and Tau suspiciously as he'd spurred his horse on past them. 

When the trail of refugees had thinned to one or two families every mile, Kiera and Tau guided their horses off the road, riding just adjacent to it over the ground. It slowed their progress considerably, but it would be harder for Dragon Clan scouts to detect them, and it would give them some warning. 

When the sun was beating down on their heads, Kiera finally called a rest, tying their horses up and sharing a lunch of fruit, cold meat, and bread. Tau, never a good early riser, had sprawled out under a tree for a nap while Kiera tended to the horses. She was caught up in feeding Blade that she didn't notice Tau come up to his horse, Courage, until he was pulling his sword from the scabbard ties to the saddle. 

"What?" asked Kiera, but Tau held a finger to his lips to silence her. He nodded in the direction of the road.

Hoofbeats could be heard, coming down hard on the packed earth, the shoes tapping on the pebbles and rocks with a fury, a horse in full gallop further down the road. Kiera drew her own sword, following Tau out towards the road. He dodged across to the other side, leaving Kiera pressed behind a tree. 

The hoofbeats grew louder and louder, but the pace began to slow, the rider's mount falling into a loose trot as he neared the place where Kiera and Tau had set their ambush. Kiera signaled across to Tau to hold his place.

The rider was wearing a dark black cloak, the hood drawn up over his head, obscuring his face. His mount looked more cart horse than a charger like Blade or Courage. He did not seem to be carrying a weapon. A messenger, perhaps? A Dragon Clans spy returning to his masters?

Kiera stepped out into the road, brandishing her weapon in front of her. The rider inexpertly drew up his reins, causing his horse to turn in a lazy circle.

"Hold there, sir," said Kiera. "What are you doing on this road?"

"Kiera?" asked the rider.

"Pol?" she asked, recognizing the voice, and then suddenly the mount as well. It was Brady.

"Tau, no!" she barely had time to shout. But it was too late. The other man had sprung from the underbrush, dashing at full speed toward Pol, pulling him from the saddle and tossing him roughly in the dirt, sword going to his throat. 

There was a moment of confusion when Tau made the same discovery about the rider's identity that Kiera had, but he didn't put his blade up. 

"What are you doing here, thief?" he asked. "Are you a spy for the Dragon Clans?" 

Kiera shouldered Tau aside, forcing him off Pol. His blade didn't return to his sheath as she helped her friend to his feet. 

"That's 'what are you doing here, Sorcerer?'" Pol corrected. 

"My apologies, Sorcerer," said Tau. "Are you a spy for the Dragon Clans?"

"Of course not," said Pol. "I came to help you two out. Wasn't sure I'd find you, though. Wasn't sure you'd be happy I came. Guess I was right."

"You chased us from Tia Vashil all day?" 

"Only since mid-morning. I would have caught up earlier, but my bodyman, Artan, appears to have deserted me in the night, so I was a little slow getting up."

"Why?" 

"Beats me, I think you'd have to ask him."

"No. You were given a direct order from Mistress Heldi to stay in Tia Vashil. Why'd you come after us?"

Pol stared at Kiera for a moment before looking back at Tau.

"I guess I felt like I couldn't live with myself if I let the only friend I have in Tia Vashil go fight the Dragon Clans on a suicide mission without me." 

Now it was Tau's turn to stare, measuring the Sorcerer before him. He slid his blade back into its scabbard.

"I know the feeling," he said.

Kiera shook her head, walking over to untie Blade from the tree she'd left him at.

"If you two are done showing off who is doing more to protect me, we've still got quite a ways to go to Tia Joi. If we push ourselves, I think we can get there in four days."

Kiera turned out to be wrong. Staying off the roads slowed them down, and the longest Pol had ever traveled before was the trip from Lowvale to Tia Vashil with Kiera. Which meant he hadn't packed himself nearly enough food, necessitating a side trip to a nearby fishing village to barter, since both Tau and Kiera had prevented him from robbing them. Tau had nearly been fleeced by a fishmonger until Pol had intervened.

To Kiera's surprise, and a little bit of her dismay, Tau and Pol seemed to have developed a bit of a friendship. They could not have more dissimilar, the brawny noble and svelte former thief, but the evenings gathered around the fire eating dried fish stewed in water and whatever berries and roots could be found had made built them into companions nonetheless.

On the evening of the fourth night, Tau slipped into Kiera's bedroll when they were turning in after dinner. He'd kept to himself, presumably due to Pol's presence, the previous nights, but he apparently couldn't put himself off any longer, his hands slipping under her smock to roll her on her side, then grasp at her breasts, teasing the nipples and kneading the soft flesh. He'd discarded his underwear before sliding in, and Kiera could feel his cock, already hard, pressed into the cleft of her bare ass.

"Careful, Tau," she whispered, gesturing to where Pol lay on the other side of the dying fire. The thief's head was turned away from them, so he couldn't see the movement of the bedroll as Tau slipped his hand down between her legs to rub it against her pussy.

"We can't," she said, although it came out strained, as Tau's fingers teased the soft opening between her legs. He kissed the nape of her neck.

"Of course we can," said Tau. His hips moved slightly, pressing the firm bar of his cock a little harder against her buttocks. He freed the hand on her breasts, tilting her forward a little, giving his lips access to her back as he rolled her smock up over her breasts to just under her armpits. Two fingers were stroking along her pussy lips in tandem, riding the edge. 

"Oh, Tau..." she said. His fingers rode up over towards her clit, circling it. Her breath caught in her mouth, willing him to stroke her. Finally, after what seemed like an age, one finger reached out and rubbed against her clit. Kiera stifled a moan, conscious of Pol just across the fire, but her body shifted to give Tau better access, and she closed her eyes.

"Oh, Tau," she whispered. "Fuck me."

Tau tucked her knees up, shifting his hips around until they were below hers, then lifted one of her legs over his to give him access. She felt him take his cock in his hand, then the head press against her pussy. He pushed slightly and she sighed at the feeling of him entering her. She placed a hand on his hips, keeping his pace from getting out of hand with Pol so close by. His hand returned to attend to her clit. 

She was losing herself in the moment, enjoying the thrusts of Tau's stiff cock into her body, his rough fingers sending delicious sensations up across her body when rubbed her clit at the same time her pushed as far as he could go inside her. 

She moaned, and was startled to find she'd done it aloud.

"Looks like we've got an audience," Tau murmured behind her. She opened her eyes, and saw two pinpoints of light from Pol's bedroll, the fire reflecting off his eyes. 

"Oh, Tau, we should..." she began, but Tau simply began to fuck her harder.

"Nonsense," said Tau. "You don't mind, do you, Pol?"

Pol had closed his eyes pretending to be sleeping, but he opened them now.

"Do I mind what?" he asked.

"If I fuck Kiera here," explained Tau. "We've been apart so long, you understand."

"Is that what you're doing?" asked Pol. He sat up in his bedroll, the blanket slipping down his bare chest. Kiera bit her lip, admiring the tautness of his body.

"Oh? Need a better view, do you?" asked Tau. He tossed the blankets off, revealing themselves to Pol.

"Tau!" exclaimed Kiera, but his hands held her in place, preventing her from moving to retrieve the blankets. Her eyes were wide with shock but her body thrilled in the moment, enjoying the look on Pol's face as he drank in her nude form, the hand playing with her clit, the cock between her legs, pumping in and out of her body. Pol's eyes were smoldering, and it wasn't just the reflection of the fire. 




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 11



"So you are," he said. "No, I don't mind."

He began to draw his blanket back up, turning away slightly.

"Would you like to join us?" asked Tau. Pol froze. Kiera gasped, although whether it was Tau's suggestion or just that his cock had pushed up against a very sensitive spot in her pusys, it was hard to say.

Pol turned to look at Tau, his face measuring the other man from where he was propped up on an elbow as he plowed his cock into Kiera. 

"Kiera quite enjoys more than one partner at the same time, I've learned over the years," Tau explained. "And I think she finds you rather attractive. And you'd be a fool if you didn't think the same about her. In fact, I'm a little surprised you two haven't fucked already."

Pol's face was a mask. "It was mostly running away."

"Wouldn't you like to suck Pol's cock?" Tau asked Kiera. His breath was hot in her ear, his fingers still rubbing back and forth slowly along her clit, the cock being buried over and over in her cunt making her burn. She closed her eyes, savoring one long stroke. When she looked up, Pol was staring at her intently, waiting for her answer.

"Yes," she muttered.

"Ask him nicely," Tau commanded. Kiera shot him a dangerous look, but then turned her attention back to Pol. His blankets were discarded now, and he'd been sleeping nude. His cock was half-hard, and Kiera leered at it a little before looking him in the face.

"Please, Pol," she begged. "Let me suck your cock."

"Good," said Tau. He waved Pol over. The thief...the Sorcerer rose and walked unsteadily towards them, kneeling at Kiera's head. 

Pol's cock was significantly larger than Tau's but if it caused jealousy in her lover, he showed no mind. 

"Take him, Kiera," he said, the hand that had been playing with her tits coming up to grip the shaved crest of her hair, forcing her lips up. She fought him, just a little, until he stopped pushing at her. 

With one hand she reached out gingerly, wrapping her slender fingers around Pol's cock, tugging across the soft skin. He was hard and warm in her grasp, and growing harder, and she couldn't help but think of how hard he'd been in the bath at the Dancing Sorcerer, or when he'd fucked her in the Grand Hall of the Guild Rock. She'd never taken him in her mouth before, and she thrilled at the thought of wrapping her lips around his cock. She pulled along the shaft, dragging his hips closer to her. Her tongue slipped along the smooth head, capturing one salty drop of precum off the tip.

Pol's hand cupped a breast, and Kiera glanced up at him, jolts running down her body as she saw the lust in his eyes. His hips were pushing toward her now, desperate to have his cock in her mouth. She smiled, her eyes dropping to where her hand grasped him. Tau was still holding her head up as he fucked her, Kiera enjoying the sensation of his cock plunging in and out of her while his other hand played with her clit. She pulled Pol's cock to her, sucking on the side of the shaft, where the head and the foreskin met, the twisting down to the underside so she could run her tongue down the long line of darker skin.

Pol's groan made her cunt moisten even further around Tau's cock. She drew the head back to her lips, starting with a gentle suction to ease Pol into her mouth. Her hand slipped back along his shaft to make way as her lips stretched to accept him. She could taste the saltiness of his precum, urging her on. When she'd taken him as far as she could manage, she let him slip out of her mouth, staring at his glistening cock, measuring the distance. 

"She loves this," said Tau. "Tell him, Kiera."

"You've got a great cock, Pol," said Kiera. "It feels so good in my mouth."

"You've got a great mouth, Kiera," he smiled at her. "It feels so good around my cock."

She didn't respond, except to bend her head and swallow him again. Pol squeezed the full tit in his hand as she sucked on him hard, her head bobbing back and forth at his crotch. His thumb flicked her hard nipple, sending shivers down her spine. She reached up and tugged gently on his balls.

Tau was kissing her back, pumping his cock between her legs, her left leg tucked over his hips. The hand between her legs was driving her wild, flicking her clit with strong firm strokes. Her body was growing flush, and she could feel her orgasm building. She was sucking Pol's cock with an abandon now, his hips moving in response, his cock pulsing every time her lips lingered on the head of his cock, the pressure of her mouth making him wild. She plunged down on his cock again, at the same time Tau sent a stroke deep into her pussy, the insistent fingers on her clit driving her over the edge.

Her climax poured through her. She moaned around Pol's cock, trying to lift off it, but Tau's fist held a firm grasp of her hair, keeping her from taking the thick shaft out of her mouth. She clung to Pol as his hands tweaked her nipples, kneading her breasts, Tau's cock still pumping in and out of her folds as they contracted around his length.

Her surging heart slowed, and she realized she was squeezing Pol's thigh too hard, that she'd been clinging to him as she came. Tau's hand released its grasp on her head, and she let Pol's cock go with a pop.

"Vash damn it," she said. "That was—"

She was cut off as Tau turned her head and drew her face to his, his lips greedily embracing hers. Pol's hands started to leave her body, but she clasped them to her tits, trapping them until she felt his strong fingers return to work.

Tau tucked an arm over her waist, tilting away from her until he was lying on his back dragging Kiera with him so that she lay on his chest. He broke their kiss, pushing her away, until she was squatting over him, his cock still impaled in her pussy. Pol rose to his feet, his hands leaving Kiera's body. Kiera leaned forward, over Tau's legs, bracing herself on his bent knees, easing Tau's cock in and out of her as she bounced gently on top of him. His hands were cupping her ass, she could feel one thumb teasing the sensitive area around her asshole. She glanced down, a thrill running through her at the sight of Tau's cock pushing back and forth between her folds each time she lifted off and settled back down on him.

When she looked up, Pol was watching her, standing off a little ways. He was watching her, his fist working along his glorious cock, thick and erect. She cupped one of her own breasts, squeezing the nipple between her fingertips and the ball of her thumb. She plunged herself down on Tau's cock, her pace quickening unconsciously as she burned under Pol's gaze.

"Fuck her mouth," came Tau's voice. Pol's eyes flashed to meet Kiera's, and she nodded, reaching out a hand to wrap around the base of his cock, taking it from him. She pulled insistently at him, but Pol bent down, tilting her head up and kissed her instead, his mouth just as hungry for her lips as Tau's had been. More maybe. The world began to melt away.

Pol ended the kiss with one lingering pluck of her lower lip between his, and Kiera remembered where she was, and what she was doing, and hoped Tau hadn't noticed the effect the kiss had had on her. And that he didn't notice how ready she was for Pol.

He stepped forward. His hands gripped the sides of her head, his fingers twining themselves in the crest of hair that slipped down the back of her head, her mouth opening to take as much as she could of him on his first stroke until her lips ran up against the partial ring her fingers made around his cock.

Pol held her mouth steady, his hips pistoning as his cock glided through her fingers and into her mouth, then back out again, holding her in place. Tau's hands were on her waist, steadying her as he began to thrust up at her in time to her plunges.

Kiera moaned around the cock filling her mouth, the sensation as both men pushed themselves inside her immensely satisfying. She rolled her tongue a little in her mouth, eliciting a moan from Pol as his shaft ran along the shifting surface. He was barely moving, his cock pressed as far between her lips as she could manage, his hips rolling back and forth only slightly, trying to keep himself inside her. 

Tau's cock pumped up into her, sending further shocks along her body, then, with one last hard, long thrust, withdrew from inside her pussy. Kiera released Pol with a gasp, staring at his thick cock, wet from her mouth, for a moment before glancing behind her to see what had happened to Tau.

The blonde man rose to his feet, his well-muscled frame glowing softly as the firelight caught his sweat. 

"No need to stop on my account," he said, catching Kiera's puzzled look. "In fact, why don't you let Pol take my place."

"Okay," said Kiera, her face trying not to betray her eagerness at the thought of Pol filling her. Tau wandered away.

Kiera fell onto her back, staring up at Pol. The thief glanced over at Tau's retreating figure. He seemed confused, curious as to why Tau had abandoned their session to go check for something in his saddlebags. 

"Pol," said Kiera. His gaze returned to her. In its absence, she'd begun fondling her own breast, the fingers on her other hand stroking lazily along her clit, keeping herself warmed up.

"Fuck," murmured Pol. He joined her on the bedroll, bracing himself on his elbows over her. She lifted her eager lips to his, a gentle tug of her teeth on his lower lip to show how much she wanted him. His arms wrapped around her, and she slid her hands out from between them to run them across his shoulders. Her legs spread, tucking behind his knees. 

A hand slipped down her side, giving her breast a rough squeeze as it traveled, then pushing insistently at the entrance to her pussy until his fingers slipped inside her, curling between her folds and causing her body to arch in response against him, her breasts pushing into the warm surface of his chest.

Her hand ran down his back, cupping one firm buttock before slipping over his thigh to his crotch, where she found Pol's thick cock waiting for her. Her fingers wrapped around his length, stroking it back and forth, feeling the hard throb of him in her hand. She groaned into Pol's mouth, interrupting their kiss to glance down between their bodies at the wide, round head winking at her from her grip. A drop of precum eased from the tip as she pulled up on his cock. With a careful haste, Kiera pushed Pol's cock down while pulling it forward into herself. 

Pol thrust forward in response and Kiera snatched her hand away, her pussy still wet from Tau's attentions, allowing Pol to slide easily between her folds. Pol began to push inside her, and she kissed him.

"Vash, you're big," she swore at him. "It feels so good."

Pol's eyes danced with delight. She was wrapped up in his arms, and he'd begun to kiss her neck.

"Pol," she whispered, sneaking a glance at Tau. He appeared to have found whatever he was looking for in his saddlebags.

"Fuck me."

Pol groaned and his cock surged forward inside of Kiera, a moan escaping from her in response. His hand rode down her body, lifting a leg to wrap it around his waist, then running down to cup and lift on her hips, tilting himself deeper inside her as his pace increased. 

Their first time, in the Guild Rock's Grand Hall, had been something close to tender, in that way new lovers often are, unsure of their partner's limits and wants. Perhaps it was the distance in time between this coupling and their last, or Pol's jealously stirred up by watching Tau fuck her, but there was little of that in his movements. Pol's cock pounded into her pussy, driving her wild as she clung to him, her other leg tucking behind his knees, both squeezing gently, encouraging him to continue. Kiera moaned again, the sound now a constant emanation from her lips as Pol kissed at the corner of her jaw and nibbled at her earlobe as he fucked her. His crotch was grinding into her clit as he rocked against her, his cock sending bolts up and down her body. 

"Flip her over, Pol," said Tau. When Kiera's eyes opened, he was crouched next to them, a bottle of mineral oil for his sword in his hand. 

"Oh, fuck," moaned Kiera as the position shifted, her pleasure subsiding slightly as Pol rolled her up on top of him. She rose to her knees, bracing herself against his chest, her arms pushing her breasts together. She grinned as he stared at them, then reached up one hand to tweak her nipple, eliciting another moan from her.

At this angle, she could appreciate his body more, the faint smattering of short hair that ran over his pectoral muscles, the burn mark on his forearm which he said had been one of his first accidents as a thief, as a child trying to steal sweets from a stall over a brazier. More scar tissue across his hip, a fall, maybe. His pale grey eyes staring at her appraising him as she rode him.

The sound of a cork coming unstuck behind her drew her attention back to Tau, who'd moved around as she'd focused on Pol. 

"What's going on back there?" asked Kiera.

"Just returning to the fun," said Tau. 

Pol's hips were moving, creating a delightful sensation that drew her attention away for a moment, so that when the mineral oil dripped across her ass, speeding down the cleft in her buttocks, she gasped. 

"Fuck!" she exclaimed as Tau's hand worked the oil over her asshole, causing her body to tense up. 

"Problem?" asked Tau. 

"Vash, no, it was just cold," said Kiera. 

"What's he doing?" Pol asked. 

Tau's hand had finished its work on her ass, and she could hear the squelching as he drizzled oil along his cock, working it into the skin with his fist.

She leaned down, pressing herself against Pol's body, trying her best to relax completely, or as much as she could. Her hands took Pol's, pulling their arms up above their heads, encouraging him to pause in his movements as she did the same. 

"Something fun," she murmured, her lips finding Pol's. One of Tau's hand wrapped around the base of her neck, the other pressing one firm cheek of her ass wide

The hot, warm head of Tau's cock pushed up against her asshole, and her hands squeezed Pol's, gently at first, then growing tighter as Tau pressed against her more, before finally her body yielded. 

"Hells and dragon's bells!" she cried as Tau's oiled cock slipped into her ass. Tau's hand held her against Pol, keeping her from rising and making it more difficult on him. Pol's mouth was kissing her cheek as she moaned wordlessly. Pol was squeezing her hands, his breath coming in short clipped exhalations as Kiera's cunt tightened involuntarily around his cock, sending more ripples of pleasure through her body. 

Tau's hips moved, pulling himself a little ways out of her ass before thrusting back in, adjusting the ease with a bit more oil from the bottle. 

Kiera was growing used to the two cocks inside her, and she let Pol's hands go, bracing herself against the bedroll, and pushing up. Tau's hand slipped from her neck down her back, both his hands seizing her waist. Pol ran one arm around her, resting it just above Tau's fingers. Her tits bounced along her chest as the men began to push in and out of her, and Pol's hand snagged her right nipple, pulling it into his mouth momentarily, his tongue lashing across the dark brown skin as he sucked fiercely, before releasing it to allow her freedom to move.

Kiera pumped back against the two men, each stroke filling her as Tau and Pol thrusted into her in time. It took all three of them a moment to find the right rhythm, so that they met Kiera's pushing in unison, filling her completely. 

"Oh, fuck," she muttered as one such occurrence rippled through her body. Her breath was coming harder now, her nipples hard and prominent on her chest, sending shockwaves through her body whenever they scratched along the hair on Pol's chest. 

"Oh, fuck!" she cried, again. Her clit was grinding into Pol's crotch. She could feel Tau's cock throbbing in her ass as he plowed into her, in time to Pol's thickness filling her pussy. She groaned, feeling as she grew just slightly tighter, the sensation magnifying in her body. 

"Oh, FUCK!" she screamed into the night. Her orgasm came ripping through her as she still pumped against the men, encouraging them on to more. Heat radiated through her body. Her pleasure overwhelmed her, her mouth frozen open as her scream trailed off, her heavy lidded green eyes caught Pol's gaze as he watched her come around his cock. 

Behind her, Tau grunted and his grip on her hips hardened. His pace grew erratic, and the throbbing in her ass increased. She thrust back against him, arching her back slightly.

Tau grunted again, and Kiera cooed as she felt his hot cum spurting into her ass, filling her. She pulled his hand to her tit, moving gently along Pol's length, sending further sensations along Tau's cock as her ass tightened around him in response, squeezing more of his cum into her.

When he was done, Tau slipped out of her and fell to the ground at the base of the bed roll.

Kiera turned her attentions back to Pol below her, or as best she could with Tau's cum inside her. She was still bouncing on Pol's cock, his hips were still moving, but there was a pained expression on his face.

"Are you close, Pol?" she asked.

"So close," he stammered. 

Kiera leaned down to him, her breath hot in his ear.

"I want you to come in my mouth, Pol," she said. "I want to taste you."

"Oh, by Vash's song, Kiera," he said. "Hurry."

Kiera bounded off his cock, falling across his waist, her breasts tucked against his thigh. Her hand grabbed his length, feeling it pulse in her hand, as she fed it greedily into her mouth, sucking hard against the head. 

Pol hadn't been joking when he'd said he was close. His hands gripped her fresh cut crest as best as they were able, his hips rose, his cock pushed into her mouth as far as she would allow. The pulsing throb reached its apex, hot, salty cum flooding across her tongue, spurt after spurt filling her mouth. Both Kiera and Pol moaned, her hand stroking the length not enveloped by her lips, squeezing out yet more of his seed. 

Pol's hands went slack, and Kiera pulled away, swallowing his load. A trail of his cum ran down his cock, and her tongue ran up his length, cleaning it off him before she stood up and started to walk away. 

"Where are you going?" asked Tau, though the question could have been directed to her crotch, judging by his gaze. Kiera's body was shiny with sweat and oil, and some of his cum was leaking down her thigh.

"Find some water," she said, disappearing into the underbrush, leaving Tau and Pol alone around the campfire.

*****

"Ahhhh!"

Princess Fione struggled to comport herself as the tip of a tongue flicked along her nipple. Uli was a talented woman, full of tender yet hungry kisses, with a roving tongue that explored in depth whatever territory it was tasked with mapping, mouth, tit, or pussy. 

Behind the desk in the princess' antechamber for her throne room, Olene sat watching impassively, her dark nipples erect and her nude body flushed, though whether her arousal came from the naked beauty before her, the thrall suckling on her tit, or simply the princess' discomfort, one could only guess. Fione thought the latter.

"Lower, Uli," the chieftain commanded.

Fione stared down between her own breasts, watching as the little thrall ran her tongue across the pale skin of Fione's chest, toward the alcove of her navel, then across the fine strands of her pale blonde pubic hair. Uli sucked one outer lip of Fione's pussy inside her mouth, already wet with the princess' desire from her earlier attention, causing Fione to gasp and struggle against her bonds, the wrists tied above her head to the top of the high backed chair flexing, trying to loosen the confinement of the leather straps, her legs trying to kick off the ties at her ankles.




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 11



Olene smirked at the blonde woman's struggles.

Uli's lips switched to Fione's other labium, drawing out another groan as Fione's pleasure built. The thrall's mouth released her, and Uli's tongue danced along Fione's cunt, tracing the wet folds in ever longer strokes upward, reaching towards the locus of Fione's pleasure, peeking out from below its hood. Finally, the very tip of Uli's tongue touched her clit. Fione gasped, a long intake of air as her pleasure grew, her body flushing, her lungs filling with air, her—

"Uli, stop," Olene commanded.

Uli stood, retreating to her mistress's side, where she stood with her hands at her sides, staring at the floor. Fione thrashed against her bonds, the chair rocking in response.

"Vash damn you! Kili take your eyes!"

This had been the torture to which she had been submitted. The terms of her surrendering her city to the invaders had spared her or her people from physical harm. But Olene had hardly forgotten the show in the throne room, and now she'd taken her revenge. Every day Uli was set upon Fione's body, the thrall demonstrating her endless talent upon the princess, driving her wild until the last possible moment, when she was commanded to renege. At night, she was joined in her bedchamber by three Dragon Clan warriors, who would restrain her if she attempted to finish alone what Uli had started. Sometimes, if Olene was feeling particularly malicious, two thralls, generally young Joian nobles selected for their beauty and that Fione would know by sight (some even being drawn from her former paramours) would be summoned and encouraged to fuck each other to interrupt her sleep. Once she had awoken to find two of them coupling over her, the former Baronet Kalgreave's long cock slipping into Lady Kalgreave's snatch as he took her from behind, just inches from Fione's mouth. Her guards had been quick to restrain her from joining in.

But for most days, it contented Olene for Fione to serve as an amusing decoration. The woman clearly did not fear Fione's escape, she conducted business with the princess as much her confidant as Uli was. Purely her audience. 

So it was no surprise that, when a warrior entered, Olene waved him in to report without a thought for Fione's presence. 

"Aren's scouts captured a spy. Joian defector returning, she thinks."

"So? Was he tortured? What did he say?"

"Not yet, chief. He claims he knows you. Aren sent him here for you to deal with."

"Ah...I see. Send him in."

The warrior opened the door, waving at someone in the hall, and another warrior entered, carrying a satchel and yanking a rope after him. 

A younger man, definitely Joian, who might have been handsome, if it were not for his wild mustaches, hurried into the room, his hands bound by the length of thick cord rope the warrior was carrying. A pang of recognition went through Fione, and he considered her with a steady eye, his gaze lingering on her tits and exposed pussy, the hair still matted from Uli's attentions.

"Artan," said Olene. Her attention had returned to her paperwork. "You return."

"As promised, great queen of the Dragon Clans," he said, kneeling gingerly, lest he lose his balance in the attempt with his hands tied together.

Olene snorted at his titling of her, but a smile crept onto her lips. 

"Cut him lose, Artan duVahn is a...friend...to the Clans," she said. One of the warriors produced a heavy cleaver, chopping Artan's bindings apart with a single brusque motion. The one who'd dragged Artan into the room placed the satchel on the desk for Olene. Then both warriors pressed their fists to their chests in salute and filed out of the room, closing the door behind them.

"You may not remember me, lady," said Artan, bowing again to Princess Fione. "But I once had inestimable pleasure of painting you with a gentleman whose name escapes me."

"Lord Martimar," said Fione. Artan duVahn. He'd painted her getting fucked by Lord Martimar. She'd had the thing burned when Martimar had been dismissed from court. If your princess takes you as her paramour, you should consider yourself blessed as well as taken. You shouldn't be found burying your crotch in the Lady Pertrad. Especially not in the same month as Fione's birthday. 

"How'd you come to be a traitor, Artan?" she asked. "Was I not a good patron?"

"An excellent patron, princess," said Artan. "But I must eat. The Dragon Clans may not appreciate fine arts, but they do appreciate a man who can accurately render faces."

"A valuable skill not found among the clans," said Olene. The contents of the satchel lay on the desk before her, and she held up a charcoal sketch of a young woman with dark hair. 

"Who's this?"

"That is Lady Kiera vai Ullan, daughter of the current Exarch of Tia Vashil, Lord Ked vai Ullan. I am told she is a warrior of great renown, who most recently spent time in Coulain. According to the sorcerer I was in service to, she is leading the expedition to free Princess Fione."

"Daughter of the Exarch? A valuable woman for the Guild to give up so easily."

"I am afraid not. The Exarch is merely a figurehead for the Guild. Even if he wasn't, his position is balanced against the power of the other four Noble Houses in Tia Vashil."

Olene nodded. "Much the same in the Clans. And this man?"

A blonde, lantern-jawed man stared out from the parchment.

"Tau vai Keller, also a talented warrior of Tia Vashil, joining Lady Kiera on their rescue mission."

Olene rifled through more sketches, staring at them without saying anything.

"The various Sorcerers of the Guild." Artan rushed to fill the silence. 

"Are any of them coming for the Princess here?"

"No, great queen," said Artan.

"They've sent just two people?"

"Apparently, the Guild requested volunteers."

Olene shook her head and looked at Fione.

"In the Clans, a chief orders their warriors to go. We would never send just two warriors on a mission. It is death."

"You might never have noticed two, if not for traitors like Artan here," said Fione.

Olene smiled, her teeth showing. Her gaze fell on Artan.

"Yes, you have been useful, Master duVahn. And you were promised a reward. Name it, and it is yours."

Artan glanced at Princess Fione and then Olene.

"Anything?" he asked. 

"Anything you think you have earned," said Olene.

Artan paused, glancing at the Princess again. 

"I would like the Princess."

"You cannot believe I'll give her up to you."

"No, not to keep. Just for..." Artan trailed off.

"Ah, for your pleasure." Olene's gaze measured Fione. "She might welcome such a thing, the state I've kept her in."

"I would never welcome traitors," spat Fione. 

"I think not, regardless of how she feels about you," said Olene. She rose from the desk, coming around to stand near Artan. Her left hand ran along his side. 

"But would you accept me instead? Would I satisfy you as a reward?" Her voice was husky, the confidence that she would be acceptable somehow drained from her voice. 

Artan was consumed by what seemed to be such an obvious ploy to Fione.

"Of course," he said. "I never...I never dared ask."

Olene's hand slipped into his hair, drawing him down for a kiss. Her right ran along his chest then down his stomach where it slipped into his breeches. 

"Oh, you're hard already," she said. She looked at Fione. "It is so gratifying, isn't it, to find a man ready for you? To feel him in your hand, pulsing with his need."

"Disrobe," said Olene. Artan's hands flew to the laces and clasps on his clothing.

"Uli, lay here," called Olene, as Artan was shedding his clothes. She pointed to a space on the floor in front of Fione. The petite thrall complied, laying on her back, staring at her Chieftain. Olene stepped astride her, lowering to her knees so that her pussy touched up against Uli's mouth, the thralls' nose colliding with the belt made of large dragon jade discs that hung on Olene's waist. Olene groaned and gasped as the wet sounds of Uli's mouth working slipped into the room. 

Artan approached, his clothes discarded on the ground, stepping towards Olene, who grabbed his cock, aiming it for her mouth. Artan groaned as Olene's lips closed around him, taking him quite far on the first go. One of his hands tried to wrap around the back of her head, but fended off by the unyielding hair of her waxed crest, he instead cupped the shaved curve of her head above her ear. His other hand fondled one of Olene's large breasts, the fingers flicking along the piercing in her large dark nipples. Combined with Uli's focus on Olene's pussy, the Dragon Clan chieftain was moaning under the attention.

Artan's cock slipped from Olene's mouth, and she pumped it rapidly in her hand, looking at Fione.

"Don't you find something wonderful about taking a man in your mouth? Knowing you control their pleasure? Knowing how vulnerable they are in that moment?"

Olene lifted Artan's cock, still pumping her hand up and down his length, then leaned forward to suck one of his balls into her mouth, pulling away until Artan let out a groan and she released him with a pop, then doing the same to his other testicle.

"Mmm, good, Uli," she told the thrall tucked between her thighs. Her hand reached down to her crotch, tightening in the woman's hair, before feeding Artan's cock back into her mouth, taking him with long gulping movements along his length.

Fione, already eager from Uli's attentions, was unable to deny the effect the show was having on her, even if it was between her captor and a traitor. Her pussy was growing wet, dampening the fresh hair that had grown there since the Clans had taken Tia Joi. Her nipples were hard, her body flush watching Olene. She squirmed and shut her eyes, trying to block it out, but the sounds made her open them again.

Olene was gasping, one hand pulling on Artan's buttock, easing him into her more. Her body vibrated, each muscle echoing her pleasure. Both hands fell to Uli's hair, and the little thrall gave a muffled sound in pain as her mistress pulled her deeper into her crotch.

"Oh, yes!" cried Olene, Artan's cock exiting her mouth again, forgotten as her thighs tightened around Uli's head. She shuddered once, twice, and then again, groaning as she struggled through her climax. 

She lifted up a little, and Uli scooted out from under her, panting and gasping for air. Artan moved for Olene to resume her sucking, but she shook her head, instructing him instead to lie down on the floor, his feet next to Fione's. Olene squatted over him, facing the princess lifting his cock and then lowering herself, embed his length in her pussy. Fione watched Olene's pussy lips spread and widen to accept him, the piercing in her clitoral hood quivering slightly in response. The princess' breath catching in her chest; when she lifted her eyes up the chieftain's sculpted body and heavy breasts, Olene watching her, her haughty amused expression bringing a burning flush to Fione's cheeks.

Olene lowered her back, lying against Artan's chest as the artist began to thrust in and out of her. One hand found her clit, manipulating the piercing, and she sighed as Artan's hands wrapped around her tits, feeling at the dragon jade bars that penetrated her long nipples. Her necklaces were made of long, flag, overlapping plates of jade, each one carved with some image of a dragon. The jade bangles on her wrists and ankles clattered together as she moved, her belt echoing with a deeper, duller sound.

"I could not go for as long as you have without this," Olene told Fione. "To have a man between your legs, so hard, filling you, so—" 

She cut off as she drove herself down Artan's body, pressing more of his cock inside her.

"—completely, to feel his hands on your breasts—"

Artan pulled insistently on her nipples and Olene gasped, her chest heaving as he lifted her breasts by the piercings. When he released her, she wrapped a hand to his head, turning it to hers so she could kiss him.

When their kiss broke, Olene rose up, bracing herself on Artan's knees, pounding herself along his cock. Artan was groaning behind her, his hands fondling her ass. Olene stared at Fione each time the artist's member speared into her, Fione's mouth merely agape at the sight of the show in front of her.

Olene rose up, as if to plunge back down on her partner, but instead let him fall out of her. She stood, then bent to take Artan's cock in her mouth for a moment, before stepping forward and bracing herself on Fione's chair back, her legs spread. 

"I wonder if you've ever tasted a man's cock after it's been inside you like that," Olene mused. She ran a fingernail along Fione's cheek. Fione jerked her head to the side, and Olene chuckled at her. "If you've ever experienced your taste and his mingled together."

Artan stood, one hand placing his cock at the entrance to Olene's pussy. The chieftain groaned, a low, piercing noise that spoke of her pleasure, as Artan entered her in one, long, slow thrust. She turned her head to look at him.

"Take me hard," she said.

Artan grunted, his hips slapping up against her. Olene grunted back, shifting her legs back to meet his, her tits bouncing in time to each smack of flesh, dancing in Fione's field of vision. All of Olene's jewelry came alive, chiming out a chaotic melody with each strike of Artan's cock into her cunt. 

Olene lowered her body, so that her head was nearly resting in Fione's lap, the waxed crest of hair hard on her bare thighs. In this position, Olene's shoulders had fallen lower than her hips, and Fione could see each muscle in her back in shapely relief and the fine curve of the Dragon Clan chieftain's ass as Artan spread it with his hands to give himself better access.

"This is good, isn't it?" asked Olene. "It is always fun to see their pleasure, but there is something about turning away, how good it feels from this angle as they penetrate you, how you can close your eyes and just think about your pleasure, isn't there?"

Every nerve ending in Fione's body was aching for a release. Each warm, damp breath from Olene's mouth set the princess' thighs to aching. Closing her eyes achieved nothing but to fill her senses with the smells and sounds of their coupling, triggering her own memories and fantasies. Opening them brought either the sight of Olene shaking in her lap, or to Artan's leering stare. Fione knew he was thinking of her and the Dragon Clan chieftain reversed, and, even as she was reviled at the thought of being with a traitor, part of her thrilled that she had that effect on him, even while buried to the hilt in another woman.

Artan's groans were erratic, his expression pained, and Olene looked up at him.

"Fit to burst, my little spy?"

The former court artist could only nod. Olene lifted up, leaning forward so that her breasts nearly pressed against Fione's face, and Artan's cock slipped out of her. She knelt before him, grabbing his cock and sucking it between her lips for one lingering taste, then pulling insistently along the length.

Artan groaned, his cum spurting out of him, splattering across Olene's necklace and tits as she aimed him lower. Some of it fell down her navel, and Artan grabbed at her shoulders to steady himself as Olene jutted her chest out, squeezing his cock to milk the last of his seed out over her hard nipple. She released him, and Artan stumbled backwards into the desk as Olene's tongue cleaned what little semen hadn't reached her body from her hand.

Olene rose to her feet, leaning forward over Fione. The princess stared at Artan's cum decorating the chieftain's tits, the musty smell wafting into Fione's nostrils, sending shivers through her body.

"See how even your own subjects give their love and devotion to me," Olene said, a satisfied grin crossing her lips.

"Such go the fools," said Fione. Olene's grin held, but her eyes flashed as she stood and walked away.

"Uli, attend," said Olene, spreading her legs apart a little and stretching her arms out. The little thrall rushed forward, heaving a bucket of water, along with a rag. One thing Fione had noticed about the Dragon Clans was that their nudity necessitated an apparent cultural fascination with cleanliness. A thrall was always on hand with water to administer a sponge bath to the warriors, in Olene's case, a copper bucket that Uli was forever putting over the fire, then taking it off and letting it sit, then putting it back over the fire, in order to keep it at the proper warmth. Each cleaning was followed by the thrall producing a bottle of oil to rub into their skin in order to keep it supple. It had pleased Olene to allow Fione the same treatment, and the princess discovered that she quite enjoyed it. Not just that it allowed her free of her bonds, but also the ritual of it, and the pampered feeling of having someone else clean one's body. 

Fione had to admit that a freshly cleaned and oiled Olene was an impressive figure. Her long crest added to her height, the oil in her skin catching the gleam of the candles and fire that lit the antechamber. A pair of black tattoos of dragons, their serpentine bodies coiled around Olene's arms before journeying across her shoulders to the tops of her breasts, each snarling head appearing ready to devour a nipple, danced in the light.

Olene settled into the chair behind the desk, watching as Artan retrieved his clothes. She picked up a dagger, rapping it hard against the surface of the desk. The two warriors entered again. 

Olene handed the sheath of Artan's drawings to them. "Find some scribes among the Joian thralls and have them make copies of these. The two on top are spies, I want them distributed to our sentries and outriders. The rest are sorcerers, make copies of them for the chiefs and Warmaster Varomar."

"Aye, chief," said the warrior, saluting her with his fist against his chest. He pointed to Artan. "And this one?"

"A thrall. He has some ability, he might make a suitable pleasure thrall, for Chieftain Aren, perhaps. Or perhaps Iandra's raiders. Iandra's raiders. They'll enjoy his softness. Make sure they know he is a gift from me to them."

Artan jerked his head, his eyes wide. "I was promised a reward."

"And I granted you the reward you asked for. You might have asked for your freedom, but you didn't. So instead you return to what you were, a thrall in the service of the warriors of the Dragon Clans."

"I am still of use. I could return to Tia Vashil, to the Guild."

"It took you four days to get here. You'll return with a fresh horse in another four. I assume you told them nothing. What will you tell them where you have been in a week? What will you tell them when they probe your mind with magic and learn the truth? And in what other capacity could you serve us? No warrior cares for your colorful paints or sculptures. Such weakness is for thralls. Except for your cock, you're no use to the Clans."

One warrior grabbed at Artan, but he evaded the grasp and lunged at Olene, his hand closing around the wrist that contained the dagger, twisting it towards her chest.

There was a moment, a desperate freezing of time, where Fione's hope swelled as the knife point made a slow progress, pushing through the air towards the Dragon Clan chief's breast, inches from her heart. And then it seemed as though time came unstuck and the reality seeped back into the room. 

Olene pulled her wrist forward and to the side in a harsh jerking movement, causing Artan to stumble over the desk. As he fell forward, her free hand chopped down on his neck, adding additional force as he smashed into the flat wooden surface. There was a cracking sound as Artan's nose broke, and he released Olene's wrist with a cry. In an instant, she was atop him, pinning him on his stomach with her legs, her elbow across the back of his neck, the dagger at his throat. 




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 12



"You look ridiculous, Pol."

"What else is new? Besides, I look any worse than you?"

Kiera looked down at herself. A band of dragon jade was clasped over her left bicep, and another had been put over her left thigh. A necklace of jade worked in the shape of teeth hung around her neck. A jade chain harness tucked under her breasts, lifting them, and then running down her body to belt made of a ring of thick scaled plates. Another harness of jade chain hung from that, tucking around her crotch and buttocks, but concealing nothing, sharing the same part she would with a lover with the world. Other than that, she was nude. They'd bundled her armor and hoisted it up a tree near where they'd tied the horses, and she wished she could go back and fetch it now.

Pol looked even more peculiar. The warrior he'd taken down had been wearing a long chain netted device that wrapped around his middle finger and then ran up the arm to his shoulder, a heavy clasp holding it in place. Each crossing of the chains set with a small dragon jade ring. His necklace was made of heavy dragon jade chain, every link a rendering of a dragon curled into an "S" shape, attacking its neighbor until reaching a pendant carved in the shape of a snarling beast in the center. Most ostentatious of all was the belt, a simple leather strap with dragon jade inlay, except for the crotch. Like Kiera's outfit, the belt contained a harness, except this one was a ring, not tight enough to constrict around his cock, unless it hardened, yet still taut enough to lift it jutting outwards, so a wandering eye could hardly help being drawn to it.

"Yes," said Kiera. "Much, much worse."

"How do they ride like this?"

"They don't. Most Dragon Clan warriors don't use horses. Scouts and chiefs only, really."

Pol looked over her, studying her body, and Kiera grew a little self conscious, folding her arms in front of her breasts. 

"Tau and I really fucked up your tattoos, so that almost sets us even," said Pol.

He wasn't wrong. The sentries they'd taken by surprise had had intricately inked tattoos, but all they'd had to copy them with was quill ink from Pol's saddlebags. Kiera had never been a good student of art, but she'd managed to make a fair appraisal of the male's tattoos on Pol's body. Pol's work had been shoddy and uneven, but at first glance it passed. 

"Well, posing as a thrall isn't all that bad, I suppose," said Tau. Kiera had cut Pol's hair down until each strand could stand on its own in a rather rudimentary Clan style, but Tau could never pass for a warrior with his blonde locks. They'd just cut apart a long doublet to fashion as thrall's robes for him. 

"No one does any talking but me when we get into the city," said Kiera. They walked along the road towards the River Gate of Tia Joi.

For a city under hostile occupation by the Dragon Clans, there was not much in the way of security. Kiera had expected as much. The nomadic clans of the West were not ones to take and hold a perimeter. On the wide open plains, they could see an enemy coming for miles, and their scouts would detect individuals well before they reached the camp. On the battlefield, the Clans often enticed their enemies to chase them, turning around and fighting once their opponents were on the brink of exhaustion. 

But in the hills and forests of the East, the same tactics that served the Clans well on the plains failed them. The great forest that stretched from Coulain to Tia Vashil to Tia Joi grew nearly against the walls of the city, and had hidden Kiera's group well. No one from the Clans had even detected them until Kiera's and Tau's swords were pressing into their backs the night before. 

There were two warriors stationed at the open gate into the city, but unlike the Guard in Tia Vashil, they were not inspecting travelers in and out of the city. Especially not members of the Dragon Clans.

Kiera strode along the road, staring purposefully ahead, as though she were set on a particular path. Pol's movements were more jerky, nervous. One of the guards perked up, catching his gaze. He held it a moment too long, and she approached, hailing them. 

"Where are you coming back from, Forest?" she asked Pol.

"Fore—?" Pol started to ask, but Kiera jumped on his question, keeping him from making a fool of himself with his ignorance and exposing them.

"Took this thrall out, find some privacy," she said. Her voice had taken on the lilting Clan accent. Pol had once snuck into a party at the Lowvale Keep, and he'd managed to fake a passably noble accent when confronted by a gentleman angry over one thing or another—a woman, Pol thought now—but it was nothing compared to the imitation that Kiera was doing. He doubted anyone could have said she wasn't born in a yurt drinking fermented milk and playing with a rattle made from dragon jade.

The Dragon Clan warrior looked over Tau. 

"He looks like a fun ride, too," she said, leering. She grab one of Tau's biceps, squeezing. Her other hand reached under his doublet, handling his cock. Tau jerked, but didn't react, staring away.

"Feels like a fun ride, too," she said. 

"He is," said Kiera. 

"Docile?"

"We let him out in the forest, he's still here."

The warrior nodded. "Trade you my sword for him."

"I don't—"

"It's a good sword," she said. She lifted it into the air. Pol could see the whole thing was made from dragon jade, including the long saw-toothed blade. Part of him was beginning to worry. He'd never tried magic against dragon jade—what little the Guild had in the way of it was too precious for experimentation, and Kiera's armor was a family heirloom. And here was a whole city full of warriors armed with it. 

"Can't," said Kiera. "Loaned him from the chief."

"Didn't think Rooth liked the men."

"This is an exceptional man. Gotta return him though. Know where Rooth is?"

"Forest clan's quarter. He set up a tent in one of the squares."

"I've been scouting," said Kiera.

"That way," said the guard, pointing with her sword. Kiera nodded her thanks, then motioned for Pol and Tau to follow her. As she turned her back, the guard perked up.

"Hold, Forest, what in the hells happened to you?"

"What?" asked Kiera, cocking her head.

"Your tattoos. Is that supposed to be a tree?"

It was, but it had come out more like a very artistic smudge. The scout Pol had copied it off had a long evergreen running up along the spine of her back, the stylized pattern giving off the impression of branches and needles. Pol's rude copy gave the impression that trees were mostly trunks with some really jagged bark.

Kiera gave him a dark glance, concealed from their questioner before turning around completely and shaking her head. "Skin carver was drunk."

"Been there," the guard nodded. She pointed to her stomach. Some sort of...creature...was chasing its tail around her navel.

"Lizard?" asked Pol.

"Ha!" laughed the guard. "Supposed to be dagger cat, but no one's got it yet. On your way, Forest. I'm sure Rooth wants his special boy back."

As Tau went past her, she slapped him on the ass, causing him to jump and eking another chortle out of her.

"Uggh," whispered Pol, as they passed through into the city. "What's that smell?"

"Death," said Kiera. She nodded at gatehouse behind them. Suspended from the battlements was a corpse, its hand removed and pinned to the chest by a dagger that had been plunged through the palm. A dragon, its serpentine body encircling the hand, had been carved into the surface of his skin.

"What's that, a warning?"

"Yes," said Kiera. "But not to us, exactly. I'd say a thrall who tried to kill a warrior. They cut off the hand that raised against them and hung him inside the gate so the other thralls would see." 

Pol snuck a glance at the body. Poor bastard, whoever he is,, he thought. In the stories, the heroes were always saying it was better to be dead than a thrall to the Dragon Clans. Looking at the punished prisoner, it was hard to say death was a better option. 

A massive ivory spire loomed at the center of the city. Its base was a heavy squat circle, larger even than the keep of the Guild Rock, each level of the tower piled on top of it, growing ever and ever smaller, like a layer cake, until it terminated in a watch tower, a bonfire burning at its peak. The road to Tia Joi had been shaded by the Great East Forest, and turning off it into the woods hadn't helped, but if he'd been coming from any other direction, you could have seen it for miles. Pol realized now that a pinpoint of light he'd been able to see from his quarters in the Guild Rock he'd always taken to be a low summer star had actually been the watchfire. 

"The Tower of Joi," whispered Kiera. Pol stared up at it. On some levels, there were ballista and onagers to set up, and in between, balconies and arrow slits broke the face up.

The gate they'd passed under was separated from the rest of the city by a bridge that spanned many feet over a massive river, confined to its bed by the walls of a canal system that had been built around it. The waters ran quick, heading to a short waterfall that led away from the city.

"The River Joi," said Kiera. "It's split by the island the city is standing on. Upstream the wall actually crosses the river, and on the other side of the city there's a lock to let ships come up and down the river. The bridge we're standing on can be raised or lit on fire to stop an enemy from crossing."

"Seems pretty secure," said Pol.

"It is," said Tau. "Only Sorcerers could take this city by force. An army would have the breach the walls, ford the river or wait to build a new bridge from one side while taking fire from the Tower, fight through the city, breach the walls surrounding the Tower, then gain access to the Tower itself."

They crossed over the bridge, and Pol realized that the Tower of Joi had a long curtain wall that connected it to the gatehouse, forming the courtyard. The houses of the city on this side had practically been built right up against it.

There was a narrow alley they passed, and before Tau or Kiera could notice, he slipped down it. Kiera spun as she saw him dart out of her peripheral.

"Pol," hissed Kiera after him. She stood at the entrance to the alley, trying not to look down it and draw any attention to the escaping Sorcerer. "Where are you going?"

"Felt like a climb," said Pol. He leapt into the air, grabbing onto a hanging gutter spout, wriggling up the wall by bracing himself in the space between the two houses.

"We should go to the Forest camp," said Kiera. "See what we can learn there."

"You go," said Pol. He was halfway up the house now. "I'll meet you in the castle."

"We should stick in together," said Kiera, trying to yell and whisper at the same time, but Pol cupped his ear, miming out the difficulty to hear. In a moment, he'd pulled himself over the lip of the roof and disappeared from sight. The last trace of him she saw was his feet as he hopped across the alley.

"Fuck," she whispered. 

"Did you know he could climb like that?" asked Tau. "If I hadn't seen him do it, I would've thought he'd flown up there."

"Fuck," she said again. 

"We should go to the Forest camp," said Tau. Kiera nodded, and walked on, leading the way as a Dragon Clan warrior would a thrall. 

"That's so irresponsible, leaving your comrades," she said, and Tau moved as close as he dared, given how far away most of the other thralls were following their masters.

"He isn't a soldier, Kiera."

"And it shows. I wouldn't do that," she pointed out.

"Oh? I seem to remember a fox hunt where you took off without a word and we spent more of the day hunting you than the foxes."

"Yeah, but that's a hunt. This is..." she paused, staring at a couple of warriors strolling down the street, steel axes on their hips. 

"Something different," she finished. 

"Or that time we went out drinking and you started a fight with a couple of off-duty Guard, and when I got out of jail the next morning, you'd were still asleep in your bed."

"It's not my fault you don't know how to run..."

"He shouldn't have done it, I agree," said Tau. "But he's not without precedent. And he is a Sorcerer."

"Yeah, our most valuable weapon."

"We're pretty valuable weapons. He's mostly useless with all this jade, anyhow. Climbing houses is probably the full use of his skills."

Kiera nodded, staring for a moment up at the rooftops, as though she might see Pol coming back, or at least glimpse him leaping from roof to roof. 

The number of Dragon Clan warriors walking the street was growing, tattooed and bejeweled naked bodies filling the streets, joking and laughing, wrestling, and gambling with sheep's knuckles. At one table, a Joian thrall was attempting to explain to a group of interested warriors how a dice game worked, although from what Kiera heard as she passed, it sounded as though he was really explaining how to fleece them. He was in for a surprise when he learned all his winnings would go to the Clan.

Kiera was guiding herself mostly by tattoos, following the way that most of the warriors with trees on their bodies were heading. Finally, looming ahead of her and Tau was a large tent erected in the middle of a square. Barely any warriors were headed towards it, entering houses and buildings that lined the way instead. Joians, most dressed in ragged clothes or the simple cloth smocks the Dragon Clans favored for their thralls, sat out in front of the houses, staring at Kiera resentfully as she passed. Former occupants, no doubt.

The Forest Chief's tent was unguarded, and Kiera wondered whether this Rooth was even present. She strode up to it as though she had business, and Tau ran ahead, pulling open the flap and holding it for her as she walk through. He slipped in after her.

"Harder!" 

Kiera paused, and Tau walked into her. Bent over a long wide table in front of her was a tall, slender woman with a brown braid coiled on her head, raised over a circlet of dragon jade. A chief. Behind her was a brute of a man, a circlet on his head as well, his hands on the woman's waist, his body slick with sweat as he fucked her. Besides the two of them, there was no one else in the tent. They caught sight of Kiera and Tau. The man's movements stopped.

"Vash dammit, Rooth, I said 'harder,' not 'stop!'" cried the woman. She twisted to look over her shoulder at him, wiping a handful of papers of the table as she did.

"Go away, warrior," said Rooth, waving at Kiera as he resumed his activity. "The Sea Chief and I are busy."

"You didn't summon her?" asked the woman. She looked Kiera over, then Tau in turn.

"Do you know who I am, warrior?" she asked.

"No, chief," said Kiera. She lowered her eyes and saluted her.

"I am Aren of the Sea Clan. Why are you here?"

"I...I..."

"Did you hear the sounds of our fucking and think to join in?" asked Aren. 

"Never, not in all the world, chief," said Kiera.

"A shame," said Aren. Rooth was gritting his teeth as he pounded into her, staring at Kiera. 

"She's a very beautiful warrior, isn't she, Rooth? Where have you been keeping her?"

"I can hardly know all my warriors," he grunted. "But she is."

"Well, warrior, if you're not here to please your chiefs, then depart," said Aren. "If you've changed your mind, though, I think Rooth here might let you stay. What do you say?"

Kiera said nothing, trying to look at Tau without appearing to look like a warrior consulting a thrall for advice. 

"Yes, I would like to stay," she said.

Aren smiled.

"Let your thrall rest. He may be here for a while," she said.

Kiera turned to Tau, catching his gaze. He seemed concerned, but gave her a barely perceptible nod. His fingers waggled, signing out his readiness to act on her command. She pointed him to a chair to sit.

"Come here," said Aren. She arched her back, propping herself up on rigid arms. Her skin was a tanned pink, freckles dotting her body. There were creases around her mouth and the hint of crow's feet around her eyes, which made her several years older than Kiera, Tau, and even Rooth. Her body was taut, firm and muscled, her buttocks firm where her breasts, not half as large as Kiera's, were not. Each breast was capped by a muddy pink nipple, nearly the same color as her skin, so that they faded into each other. She held herself with a regal confidence, intent on gaining the most pleasure from her partner rather than he from her as she pushed her rump back into each of his thrusts. One of her hands had disappeared between between her crotch, and her mouth was open, the corners ticked slightly toward a smile.

Kiera approached, unsure of what was about to happen. Her jade jangled as she moved, watching Aren and Rooth fuck each other.

"Lay like I am across the table in front of us," said Aren. Kiera bent at the waist, pressing it up against the long table, crossing it perpendicular to Aren and Rooth, so that her head hung off the other edge and her breasts pressed against the table. She stared up at Aren, bobbing above her. The older woman leaned down, her lips kissing Kiera. To Kiera's surprise, it was something rather tender, not the hungry kiss of a hedonist looking to use her for pleasure. It was the sort of kiss that made one want to trust the person on the other side of those lips.

Aren pushed Rooth away from her. She walked around behind Kiera, squeezing Kiera's ass, before running her hands along her body, then leaning over and kissing the nape of her neck. Rooth came around to stand near Kiera's head, and Aren took his cock in her hand, guiding it towards Kiera's mouth.

"Show your chief your devotion," Aren murmured in her ear. Kiera could feel her nipples stroking her back.

Kiera opened her lips, and Aren slipped Rooth's cock inside her, still sweet with the tang of Aren's pussy. Aren grabbed a hunk of Kiera's hair in her hand, ruining the waxed crest, and guided Kiera up and down the Forest Chief's cock until Kiera began to suck on Rooth herself. When she was satisfied with Kiera's work, Aren slipped back down her body, stroking her sides, planting one kiss that transformed into a bite on Kiera's ass before squatting behind her.

Kiera felt hands on her ankles, pushing them apart, then felt them run up her calves and thighs, tight from how they were stretched in this position. She groaned around Rooth's cock when a finger stroked down her labia, then again when it pushed inside her, then again when another joined it. Aren was pumping her fingers in and out of Kiera's body, and she fidgeted her hips, trying to ease them deeper inside her. As she did, the dragon jade harness she wore bit into the table, riding high and against her clitoris, increasing her pleasure.

She was sucking Rooth with an abandon now, enjoying the sensation. Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, her cheeks hollow from the pressure. He had a hand on the back of her neck, holding her in place as she took him in her mouth.

Aren's fingers made contact with the rough spot on her pussy and she quivered, then again when they returned, staying there as they waggled, the pumping abandoned. A tongue played with her lower lips, before she felt Aren's own lips and her nose press against her rear, pulling her labia into the chief's mouth. 

Her head pumped faster, as though by increasing her pace on Rooth's cock, she could somehow increase Aren's attentions. She had one hand playing with his balls, alternating between fondling and pulling on them, and one reached back behind her to hold Aren in place. Aren's fingers were dancing a quick-footed pattern inside her cunt, the chief's curled thumb and other two fingers rubbing up against Kiera's clit. 

Kiera's moans were unintelligible around the cock in her mouth as her orgasm poured through her, Aren adjusting her fingers so she could lap at Kiera's pussy as the other woman's body squeezed tight around the intruding digits. Kiera writhed on the table, Rooth's hands holding her shoulders in place.




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 12



When she was finished, Aren withdrew her fingers and Rooth withdrew his cock, causing Kiera to groan as her body emptied. Aren climbed onto the table next to her, drawing Kiera up from lying on it to plant another reassuring kiss on her lips. Kiera clambered onto the table with Aren as the other woman pulled on her arms. Their hands ran across each other's bodies as they knelt together on the table, kissing furiously. Aren pushed Kiera's shoulders away, then lowered her head, catching one of Kiera's dark brown nipples in her mouth.

Kiera moaned aloud, then again as Rooth came up behind her, his hand grasping at her other breast, kneading the soft flesh, plucking at the nipple between his fingers. She reached a hand behind her, and Rooth's reached out to grab it, guiding it to his cock. Kiera stroked him, her hand firm and tight around him, feeling the warm precum she was forcing from the tip as she pulled on him spread over her hand.

"This was a good idea," grunted Rooth.

Aren licked her way up Kiera's chest and neck to her ear, her hot wet tongue radiating shivers under Kiera's skin as it snaked along its path. 

"I think your chief is quite pleased with you," Aren hissed into Kiera's ear. "Now to see if you can please me, too, girl."

She turned Kiera around so that she was staring at Rooth, then pushed her down so she was resting on her back on the table. Rooth grabbed Kiera's hips, dragging them off the edge. Aren walked forward on her knees, settling her pussy about Kiera's lips, the wiry sandy brown hair nestled between her legs moving with each breath.

Rooth pushed forward, spearing Kiera on his cock, his hands wrapped around her buttocks, pulling them apart with his hands as his elbows spread her legs wide around his torso. Kiera's back arched as her pussy filled with his throbbing cock, and she began to moan only to have immediately muffled as Aren smothered her mouth with her cunt, Kiera's moan vibrating through her. 

"Ahh, yes, good, good," hummed Aren to herself as Kiera's mouth turned from emanating sound to enveloping her lower lips, Kiera's tongue gliding along her pussy, licking her from clit to taint. Kiera's hands wrapped around her, one hand pressing up Aren's toned stomach, the other squeezing an ass cheek. 

Aren's hands kneaded Kiera's breasts then sent her fingertips raking in turn across the surface of Kiera's dark brown nipples, watching them harden into pebbles under the attention. Her hips ground against Kiera's mouth, adjusting slightly until Kiera sucked her clit between her lips, sending her tongue roving around it.

Rooth drank in the sight of the lithe body he now shared with his fellow chief, the chain harness that ran down from her tits to her belt and pussy, then at Aren, her eyes closed as the younger woman's tongue flickered across her clit. He reached out a hand, grasping first at Aren's small breast, feeling as she pushed it harder against his hand, then moving it down to take hold of Kiera's larger, firm breast, forcing Aren's hand away, squeezing hard, watching the flesh pour through his fingers.

Kiera groaned, her own hips tilting to adjust to Rooth's strokes, easing his angle inside her. A faint hint of the tang of Aren's juices filled her mouth, the other woman's lower lips wetting Kiera's nose as she rode Kiera's mouth.

Aren leaned forward, forcing Rooth to retract his hand from Kiera's breast, bracing himself on the table and pistoning harder in and out of her instead. Kiera could feel the tightly coiled braid on Aren's head as it pushed against her inner thigh, and Aren's hard nipples stroking against her stomach. 

She gasped into Aren's pussy as a long tongue flickered along her clit while Rooth continued his rapid pace. Aren reached a hand back between her legs to steady Kiera's jaw, keeping her mouth steady on her own clit as she played with Kiera's in between Rooth's thrusts. Kiera renewed her efforts on the other woman. Her breath was coming ragged and inconsistent, however, her chest heaving in response to the mouth and cock sending pleasure radiating through her body. 

She groaned and Aren's thighs tightened around her head, keeping her in place and muffling her cries as the ecstasy of her orgasm overtook her, her body rocking in place on the table as the lashing of Aren's tongue grew unbearable as her clit became more sensitive. She shook as another climax ripped through her and Rooth gave a low growl.

"Close?" asked Aren, letting some of the pressure on Kiera's go as she spoke.

"She's grown unbearably tight," the forest chief noted. 

Aren thighs gave Kiera a squeeze.

"Come, warrior, please me like you do your chief."

Kiera grunted herself, barely able to breath but determined, her tongue raking Aren's clit, her fingers finding their way to slip between her folds. Aren purred on top of her.

The sea chief reached a hand, grasping Rooth by the base of his cock and sliding him out of Kiera's pussy at the apex of his next pull stroke. He next thrust went gliding along Kiera's clit, and then Aren lifted his cock into her mouth, taking him to the hilt. She let him go, her chest lifting slightly off Kiera's lower torso, revealing Kiera's body just below her navel. She stroked him hard, aiming the head of his cock between the two of them.

"Show me, Rooth. Show me your need."

Rooth groaned, his cock throbbing under Aren's hand. She closed her eyes for a moment to savor the feeling, and her face shifted to one of concern, her mouth opening as Kiera's tongue poured pleasure into her, catching her by surprise. Rooth tried to say something, but it came out unintelligible as Aren's hand tightened around his cock. Down between Aren's thighs, Kiera made her pleasure known as Rooth's cum spurted onto her belly and the tops of Aren's tits. One rope traveled nearly as far as Kiera's heavy breasts. 

For a moment, the three of them held still, not moving, Aren's thighs still locked around Kiera's head, her hand still tight around Rooth's cock. Then the forest chief laughed and stepped away from the two women.

A small basin of water had been erected in the corner of the tent and he removed a cloth that had been placed in it, wringing it out before wiping it across his body and then wiping his hands.

A bit of black caught his attention, and when he shook out the cloth, he saw there was a heavy smear of black ink where his hand had touched it. 

"What's that—" 

Aren's right arm tightened around his throat, her other arm wrapping around his left bicep, locking it in place. Her legs braced him tight around the torso, squeezing air from his chest. Rooth thrashed, spinning around, dragging the smaller Dragon Clan chief with him. Kiera sat up on the table, the ink of her false tattoo streaked where it had run as she had begun to sweat. With Aren on top of her, Rooth had failed to notice it. 

"Don't just fucking sit there, you two," cursed Aren, as Rooth attempted to claw her away from him with his free right arm. "Help me!"

Tau and Kiera leapt up, Tau restraining Rooth's free arm, while Kiera grabbed the arm Aren had locked up to keep him from moving and possibly dislodging them. Rooth struggled violently, and he tried to roar but only a gasping echo of sound came out instead. His body began to sag under the weight of Aren on his back. He stumbled forward to his knees, dragging his three opponents down on top of him before collapsing to the ground. Aren held her grip for a moment longer, the veins in her arms popping as she tightened it further, then let him go.

She placed an ear to his back, listening, then stood and availed herself of the basin and the forgotten washcloth.

"Dead?" asked Kiera, sitting on .

"Of course," said Aren, dipping the cloth into the water. She wrang it out, then tossed it to Kiera.

"You're the Vashili spies, aren't you?"

"Who are you?" asked Kiera.

"Aren, Chieftain of the Sea Dragon Clan, daughter of Kael."

"A Dragon Clan chief?" asked Tau. He voice was heavy with doubt.

"I've just killed another chief and I recognized you two from a pair of poorly made scribbles on sight," said Aren. "You doubt my capabilities to lead my people?"

"No, I just..."

"Why would you help us?" asked Kiera.

"A thousand reasons. No reason. Whatever is more convincing. You have no time to learn them, though. Rooth's warriors may be here soon enough. Your disguises are flimsy, and to get past Olene's guards and to the princess, you'll need more than crude Forest Clan tattoos. Clean your body."

Kiera wiped the smear of ink from her body, erasing the crude tree, then down to her stomach where Rooth's semen clung to her. Aren found some paper, and then an ink and brush from the table. She gave the paper to Kiera to dry the water from her body. When she was satisfied, she had Kiera lie across the table.

"Only a fool or a content decorates their body in the symbol of their clan, save those of the Sky. A true warrior seeks always to improve, always to be superior," explained Aren, dipping the brush. She sent a stroke across Kiera's right breast, then another, the appearance of a dragon's jaw soon appearing on the skin. Within moments, a long serpentine body had joined it, and a pair of leathery wings that ran down Kiera's body, curving around her waist.

"Olene's most trusted warriors are the raiders assigned to Iandra. They have free reign of the city, and while they are currently in the field scouting Tia Vashil, they send frequent messengers back to the Tower. They each have a special marking, the shadow of a falcon below their clavicle, to show their place." Another pair of quick strokes, and the stylized silhouette of a bird diving for unseen prey appeared on Kiera's body. 

Aren stood, putting down the ink and brush, then helping Kiera back to her feet. 

"Olene keeps the princess her prisoner, and teases her with displays of handsome thralls coupling. This early in the day, the princess is likely to still be in her apartments in the Tower."

"Not the cells?"

"No, she surrendered the city. She is being treated as befits a captive chief of the Dragon Clans. These tattoos should let you through fairly easily. Tell the guards you report directly to Olene. And...Tau, that's your name, correct?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"We have our own spies. Tau, you walked too close to Kiera for a thrall. You two walk like companions, if not lovers. No warrior walks with her thrall like this. Kiera, you lead. Tau, you follow. That is how a warrior walks with a thrall."

"Thank you, Chieftain Aren."

"Good luck Kiera of vai Ullan and Tau of vai Keller. And now you must do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"I would appreciate it if you struck me hard in the face. It would help me convince whoever comes to find Rooth here that I played no part in it."

"Oh," said Kiera. "Well, then, sorry."

"Ow," she said, half a second later, flexing her hand as Aren lay prone at her feet. "She had a hard head."

"And a helpful demeanor," observed Tau. "Let's get out of here. We need to finish the mission and find Pol, if he hasn't gotten himself caught already."

*****

Pol glanced through a doorway. His climb up the Tower of Joi had been considerably harder than he had thought it would be, but he'd made it about the height again of the curtain wall before giving up and slipping through a balcony. Kiera had gone over the layout of the tower, so he was vaguely certain there was a floor dedicated to the royal living quarters and that, failing that, there were cells higher up, but he had not been paying close enough attention. 

The room he was staring into was empty, some sort of office, perhaps. A table sat brimming with paper and parchment, a single regal chair behind it, and a far more spartan one off to the side. He entered, glancing around to see if there were some hint how close he was to the princess' apartments. Perhaps there was a discarded tiara somewhere.

And maybe a note specifying exactly how to find what he was looking for. 

Not for the first time that day, Pol cursed himself for leaving Kiera and Tau behind. They'd never had made up the Tower, so leaving them behind had been something of a necessity. Once he found the princess, he could leave and find them in the city and the three of them could come up with a plan.

However, this was being complicated by the fact he wasn't even really sure what Princess Fione vai Joi would even look like, outside of that she was famous for being gorgeous. That didn't mean much. In Pol's opinion, forged by years of pursuing gorgeous women, "gorgeous" was a prize awarded in the eye of the beholder and people with titles and wealth frequently had a lower bar to clear to earn it than those without. 

He also knew that she wouldn't look like the Dragon Clans warriors who infested the entire city and that he'd dodged throughout the halls of the keep, so when one strode into the room, he froze up.

Naked and tattooed and adorned in dragon jade like all her kin, she had an air of the owner of the room, or at least a confidence as though she did. She saw Pol and her eyes glimmered. A long dragon jade sword hung from a scabbard around her well-apportioned waist. She unbuckled the sword belt, placing it on the table in front of her, leaning forward. Pol's eyes were drawn her breasts as gravity pulled them like a pendulum towards the floor. She straightened, her eyes catching him staring.

"Hail, warrior," she said, giving him the Clans' salute. Pol returned it. "Here to report to Olene, too?"

"I...yes," said Pol, relieved that Fate had granted him a reprieve. Of course he was here to report to Olene. Obviously.

"What's your report about?" she asked.

Pol stared at her dumbly. 

"I'm not sure I should tell you," he said, after a moment. "Chief's ears only."

The woman in front of him laughed. 

"You can tell one of Iandra's raiders anything!" she chided, pointing to a small tattoo of a bird apparently falling out of the sky located just below her collarbone, above a pair of snakelike dragons that roamed her chest. "We're the chief's ears, her eyes, even her arm. What is your news?"

Pol paused again. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know who or what Iandra's raiders were, he didn't know whether the one in front of him was lying or not, and he certainly didn't have anything to tell the chief, should she arrive in any event. 

"I..." he began. His voice wobbled as he spoke, his half-practiced attempt at the Dragon Clan lilt fading as he spoke.

The warrior face fell from one of familiar ease to that of suspicion.

"You don't have news, do you?" she asked, cutting him off.

The air hung heavy as Pol realized what the raider was asking him and she realized what his answer was going to be before he'd even though to speak. Faster than he ever could have thought possible, her sword left the clasp on the belt, as if it appeared in her hand by magic. She closed on him. Pol threw his hands up to protect himself.

Her movement stumbled, slowing as though she were suddenly wading through chest high water. The sword swung around, but slow, far too slow to kill, even to wound. Pol realized he was holding a shielding spell, cast without thinking, and that her jade was fighting it, allowing her to penetrate the magic, albeit greatly diminished. He was astonished. Margase had said that a Dragon Clan warrior in full jade jewelry would be unaffected by magic unless exposed to it in either great quantity or a long duration. And here his magic was being dampened by both his jewelry and hers.

He focused harder, driving his will forward into one where the warrior was frozen completely in place by the shielding spell, the chain arm next weakening and the links beginning to split apart as he envisioned just such an outcome. His arms were numbing, the feeling washing over his body as he continued. 

The sword gave away with a cracking sound, and pieces went tumbling to the floor. The jade necklaces, belts, and bangles she was wearing were crumbling apart, the piercings in her nipples, navel, ears, and clitoris following in their wake. In a moment, the both of them were completely naked, but she was frozen in place, her hand still grasping at the hilt of a sword that no longer existed. 

Pol held the shielding spell, then switched to holding the warrior in place with a spell like the one he'd used to move the bust in the courtyard with Heldi. She rose into the air in front of him, not moving.

"A Sorcerer!" she gasped, as the shielding spell dropped and she was able to speak again, though Pol's spell held her limbs firmly in place. "I yield, I yield! Please, Master Sorcerer, do not kill me like you do bad children!"

"What?" asked Pol, surprised by this last.

"Please, Master Sorcerer. Every Dragon Clan child knows that the Sorcerers' Guild will come and take them away if they've been bad, to do horrible experiments on with their magic. I beg you not to kill me. I yield! I will serve as your thrall."

"You did just try to kill me," said Pol.

"Of course! No Sorcerer would spare the life of a warrior of the Dragon Clans! I acted only to defend myself."

Pol let his spell go, and the warrior fell to the floor, landing in a crouch.

"This Sorcerer will," he said.

"Thank you, thank you!" cried the warrior. She threw herself at his feet, kissing the tops of them. Her lips were warm and soft. He stared down at her.

"Um, no problem, I guess—what are you doing?" She'd turned around from him, bracing herself on all fours. He could see her the folds of her pussy pressing out from between her thighs. 

"I am your thrall, Master," she said. "I am here for your pleasure."

"Oh, I'm not interested in that."

"No? Your cock would say otherwise."

Pol glanced down at his groin. It was true, he was hard as a rock. But his heart was beating uncontrollably, and it was just as likely from the adrenaline of almost being killed as from arousal.

"I can't control that," he said. 

"Master, you must take me as a husband takes his wife. Otherwise you have rejected my surrender. It makes me lower than a thrall, and there are none lower than thralls save the dead. I would have to throw myself from the Tower to undo my dishonor."

"Really? Vash's song, that's a fucked up culture."

"It is our way, Master. If you claim me, I will do anything you say."

"Anything? For instance, you could take me to Princess Fione?"

"I know exactly where she is kept," said the raider. 

"What happens if the Chief or a warrior comes in?"

"I will kill them. I would die to protect my master. Any good thrall would."

Pol still hesitated, and her smoky eyes met his, hard and determined.

"Please, Master. I desire this. I want to feel your pleasure. I want to know that I am yours."

Pol's heart hadn't stopped its incessant thumping, and this did nothing to make it clamer, only beat harder. 

"Fuck," he muttered, kneeling behind her. He spat into his hand, rubbing the saliva across the head of his cock until it was firmly coated. "This might be the stupidest thing I've ever done."

"You won't regret it, Master, I promise," said the raider.

"I'd better n—oh Vash damn it!" grunted Pol as he thrust forward. Her pussy yielded slowly as he entered into her, hugging him tightly. The world narrowed in focus from everything he was supposed to be doing—finding the princess, rendezvousing with Kiera and Tau, gathering any extra intelligence for the Guild—to the sensation of warm pleasure emanating from his groin. 

His hands ran along her waist, squeezing at the soft flesh that hung around her hips as he held her body in place, watching her rock in time to his thrusts. Her back curved as her shoulders raised slightly and her head lifted, her mouth open as she gave an audible groan of satisfaction as his pace began to increase. Pol ran his right hand up her back, his thumb tracing along her spine. He lifted one knee off the floor, planting his foot next to her knee, giving him a better purchase to send his cock rushing into her on the next push. His hand cupped the nape of the warrior's neck and she lowered herself down to her elbows, her muttered moans interrupted by her piercing gasps.




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 12



"Oh, yes, Master, yes...you feel so good. Fuck that little cunt, it's yours now," she cried. 

Pol just growled, forgetting how to speak. She was pushing hard back against him now, each joining of their bodies echoed by a clap, applauding their efforts. She rode forward, letting him slide almost all the way out of her and he planted a firm smack across her bottom, drawing a surprised but hungry shout out of her. She pushed harder against him and he spanked her harder and faster to meet her in turn. He grabbed her waist with both hands, his body leaning over her, his forehead resting on the middle of her back, fucking her as hard and fast as he could. She raised one of her over her head, grasping at his hair, and he reached around to fondle one heavy breast, watching as the dragon tattoo that climbed around it slithered in and out between the gaps in his fingers.

Pol was straddling the edge, his cock aching for release. He gave the warrior's rump another firm slap, then withdrew, starting at the angry, loud, frustrated grunt and dirty look she gave him when he did.

"Stand up," he told her, rising to his own feet. She followed him up, then turned to face him, but he pressed a hand on her shoulder, keeping her from completing her turn.

"Stand there, face the wall," he told her, pointing to a space close to a tapestry of some crowned man with a long beard resting on a lance. A former Prince, Pol thought. 

He stepped behind her, his cock slipping into the space formed by her buttocks pressing against his waist. He felt her lean back, the pressure on him increasing, her shoulders rubbing against his chest. He ran his hands up her body, stroking her stomach, weighing her tits in his hand before teasing her nipples until they'd grown hard by slipping each of his fingers over them in turn. He ran his hands across her shoulders and then down her arms, until he'd tucked her wrists in one hand behind her back. His other hand pushed his cock down until it was pushing between her thighs.

"Tell me what again what you want," Pol said.

"Fuck me," she commanded, her tone haughty and imperious.

"'Fuck me' what?" Pol asked, grinning when she grunted in annoyance.

"Fuck me, Master," she said, her voice somehow both demure and plaintive. 

Pol wasted no time, using his grasp on her arms to push her over, until her head was near the tapestry. His cock pushed forward into her, both of them groaning as he filled her. His quick pace resumed, having safely backed away from the near climax of his pleasure.

"Oh, fuuuck, yes," she murmured. She was struggling with his hold, and as Pol's thrusting grew more furious, his grip loosened and she freed herself. One arm braced herself against the tapestry, the other grasping at Pol's waist, the nails scratching across the side of his thigh, encouraging him onwards. He pawed at her breast, then wrapped his right arm around her, his forearm buried in his cleavage, his hand around her throat, pushing her up against the wall until he could feel the fabric of the tapestry scratching against his arm.

"Vash's holy fire, you may be a spy, Master, but you take a woman like you were born to the Clans," she moaned. 

Pol said nothing intelligible. The hand that had been digging into his thigh had transferred to her clit, and her cunt had tightened noticeably as she stroked herself along to her own pleasure. Her hand closed for a moment around his balls, giving them a gentle tug before resuming the work on herself.

Pol gave her a smack that set her ass to rippling with his left hand, and she shouted her joy again before he pressed the arm up against the wall and entwined her fingers in his own. He was pressed firmly against her, his strokes short and hard, her breasts flattened against the tapestry, the sides leaking out past her torso, the tops of her large round buttocks riding high on his waist.

"Ah, yes," she cried. "Yes, ah, yesssss!" 

Pol grunted. Her juice came flooding out of her in a firm spray. A thousand lives ago it seemed now, Lona Harrity had told her one of her friends was able to come like a man and did a fair trade demonstrating it, but he himself had never encountered a woman who could until this moment. Her hand was stroking herself so vigorously, he could feel the rapid tremors as she worked, her pleasuring literally pulsing out of her body.

Her pussy was spasming around his cock, and he could hardly help himself, thrusting into her as hard as he could, his own cum flooding her pussy just as she'd stopped squirting. 

"Oh, good, good, Master," she cheered him on as he grunted and his cock spurted again inside her. Her hands fell again to his thighs, holding him against her until he was finished making a mess of her pussy. 

With a slow care, she pushed him off her. Pol leaned against the wall, catching his breath, watching as she strode over to a copper bucket where she retrieved a soaked cloth, wringing it out before rubbing it across her body and then between her legs as she squeezed Pol's cum out of her body. 

"You are prodigious, Master," she told him. 

"Call me Pol," he panted.

"Master Pol, then. You may call me Uli," she said. 

His heart was beating half as hard as it had been, which was still twice as fast as it should have been, but it was recovery enough.

"Uli, take me to the Princess like you promised," he said. 

The warrior smiled at him, though what she found amusing he couldn't say.

"Of course, Master Pol, follow me," she said.

*****

The bodies of two Dragon Clan warriors lay at the door she led him to, both of them apparently run through with a sword. One of them was missing his weapon.

"Fuck, this is bad," said Pol.

"More for my people than for yours," said Uli. She knelt, pressing her fingers against the blood on the floor, and Pol thought he might vomit.

"They've been killed very recently," she said. "It's still warm."

"Oh, grand," said Pol, watching as she wiped her fingers on the corpse. "Well, maybe you're right and this is Kiera and Tau's handiwork. Only one way to find out."

He grasped the heavy iron handle on the door into the Princess' quarters and pulled it open, stepping through.

A very solid arm grabbed his from the side, twisting it about until it was pinned behind his shoulders, and a blade pressed up against throat.

"Kiera?" he asked, hopefully, his eyes squeezed tight in anticipation of his death.

The blade fell away and the arm released him.

"Oh, fuck, Pol, you're going to get yourself killed sneaking up on us," said Kiera. "How'd you find us?"

"I didn't," said Pol. He looked at her, staring at the new tattoos she was sporting, including the diving bird that was on Uli's body. When he looked at the room, he saw they were in a fairly grand bedroom, with a raised four posted bed on a short dias. A massive tapestry, depicting a battle between the Joians and the Dragon Clans, a crowned woman in the center holding a radiant spear, leading her soldiers onwards, covered the entire wall on one side. Tau appeared from behind a wall, leading a petite young woman with platinum blonde hair, naked the same as them but unadorned with jewelry. The Princess, he assumed. 

"A Dragon Clan warrior helped me."

"The same one that helped us?" asked Tau.

"I dunno," said Pol. He stepped to the side and waved at Uli.

"Uli, come on in," he said.

"Uli? Uli's not a warrior," Princess Fione began to say, then stopped when her gaze fell on the Dragon Clan woman before her.

"Olene," she spat.

Kiera just enough time to say, "Pol, what have you—" before Olene was shouting.

"Now, Varomar!"

The tapestry that covered the wall went tumbling to floor, the metal bar that held it rigid clattering as it struck the floor of the Princess' bedroom. A portion of the wall had been removed, revealing the next room over.

Standing in the opening was a beast of a man. Taller even than Tau, he'd tied his hair into a thick black tail, with bands of jade holding it together as it ran down almost to the back of his knees. His body was decorated with tattoos, scars dotting his chest and arms. Unlike many of the warriors, he wore only a smattering of jade jewelry, thick bands around his biceps and ankles, a heavy collar, and a simple chain belt. It was immediately apparent why: in his hand he held a massive dragon jade cleaver, the blade three times the length of a large man's hand. 

Both Tau and Kiera raised the swords they'd acquired from the guards. Olene grabbed at Kiera's arm, her hand trying to pry the hilt from Kiera's grasp, when Princess Fione went flying through the air, her head slamming into Olene's gut, bearing them both to the floor with a fleshy thud, knocking the air from Olene's chest with a gasp.

Fione was screaming without words as she rained blows down on the Dragon Clan chieftain. Caught off guard by the Princess' fury and disoriented by the headbutt, Olene struggled mostly just to defend herself.

Varomar advanced to help his sister, but Tau intercepted him, making a slicing cut towards Varomar's head. The big Clan warrior dodged it deftly, sliding out of the way as if on a rail. Tau caught the blade of the cleaver, only to find it coming down on him again, hammering at Tau, who gave his ground slowly, bitterly, backing towards Kiera, Pol, and Fione. 

"Go, go," shouted Tau. Behind Varomar, more warriors were sliding through the hole in the wall, entering into the room.

Kiera pushed Pol back out of the door, then grabbed Fione around the waist, pulling the Princess to her feet. Fione's foot lashed out, catching Olene one final strike across the face, and the Dragon Clan chieftain lay clutching at her head. 

When Tau saw Kiera withdraw through the door, he dodged the next blow, then dropped and rolled along the floor away from Varomar, springing to his feet to vault over Olene and out the door to the hallway, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

"Run!" Kiera shouted, throwing Fione ahead of her. 

They fled then, as fast as they could, Fione recovering enough of her senses to guide them through the twisting halls and narrow stairs of the Tower of Joi. Whenever they came upon warriors of the Dragon Clan, they avoided them when they could, or Kiera and Tau fought them, each combat costing them precious time.

At the entrance hall, a narrow corridor lined with tapestries and whose ceiling was dotted with murder holes, Varomar and his warriors caught up to them. 

The giant Warmaster came hurling down the corridor as they turned into it, his weapon raised over his head, and Kiera turned and caught his blow, her wrist twisting awkwardly as Varomar's speed kept him bearing down on her, until they tumbled into a heap. 

Unable to deliver a strike without risking harm to Kiera, Tau grabbed Varomar around the shoulders, pulling him up and away from the scrum. But Varomar was far too strong an opponent, breaking Tau's hold almost instantly, then spinning on his heel to send his cleaver smashing into Tau's blade as the blonde man scrambled to defend against it just in time.

Another slice from Varomar's cleaver sent Tau stumbling backwards to avoid finding the blade embedded in his ribs, and he tumbled to the ground, rolling away as a another hard blow came to follow on the other's heels, sending a shower of sparks rising into the air when it contacted with the stone floor where his head had been. 

Kiera had recovered, moving towards the Warmaster with a surefooted and steady purpose as he was distracted by Tau. She raised her sword for a killing blow.

Varomar spun again, catching the blade on his cleaver, sending it glancing off to the floor. His long braid whipped through the air, the jade bands clattering against the wall. As Kiera's guard fell, Varomar balled his free hand into a fist, sending one massive paw colliding with her jaw. Kiera stumbled and tottered over.

If she'd been a less experienced, a less nimble fighter, she might very well have been dead then, but as it was her blade raised just in time to stop Varomar's cleaver from connecting with her face. Another lighting quick blow fell, and again she caught it, though his strength clearly outmatched hers. She was scooting along the floor, attempting to withdraw as Varomar rained his strikes down on her.

Tau came charging back in to help, screaming unintelligibly as he did, but Varomar, dark and silent, caught his sword on one of his own blows, sending it vibrating in Tau's hands so hard he fumbled the grip. 

Varomar kicked him square in the chest, sending the big blonde man sliding along the smooth marble floors. The Dragon Clan warrior turned his attention back to Kiera. She was trying to stand back up, but he was nearly upon her, his cleaver raising to cut across her neck.

Kiera glanced up at him, her face freezing.

The cleaver exploded into green dust, disintegrating as he swung. Kiera's blade did the same as, too late, she tried to raise it in response. She dropped the hilt, catching Varomar's hand in hers, then wrenched him off balance, sending a leg out to finish knocking him to the ground. He landed hard, the rough clap of his bare skin on the marble echoing down the hall.

The jade jewelry on their bodies was slipping away, pouring into the air like sand caught in a windstorm. Kiera turned around to look at Pol. His arms were raised his fingers appearing to lift some unseen object. Varomar's necklaces and belts, the jade charms in his hair, were clattering to the floor, as was Kiera's harness and band, as the thin links of jade that held them together disintegrated first as they yielded to Pol's magic.

"Kiera, get back!" Pol screamed.

She leapt away from Varomar, throwing herself, now completely unadorned, to the ground near Tau. 

Flames roared, filling the corridor with heat. Varomar scrambled away from the inferno, pulling a jade necklace off one his fallen companions to shield himself against the magefire with. More warriors were slipping into the hallway behind him, each covered in their own jade.

"Time to go," said Pol. Kiera grabbed his wrist.

"Right," she said. "We're already leaving. The princess says there should be good horses in the stables."

Pol raised his free hand, flicking his fingers, sending a blast of fire down the corridor, setting tapestries and rugs alight, then turned and ran after Kiera.

Outside a bell was ringing, a pleasant discordant sound that Pol thought was the Temple of Vash's wedding bells. It seemed less alarm than celebration, and Pol almost laughed at the thrill of it, as though Vash herself were blessing their passage. He followed Kiera as she ran after the Princess and Tau, leaping to mount a horse was pointed out to him. 

They burst out into the courtyard, wheeling their mounts as Dragon Clan warriors poured out of the keep. Pol threw up another wall of fire, startling his horse and nearly dismounted himself, but Kiera grabbed him by the collar and he kept his seat. She grabbed his reins, turning his horse after her.

They rode past startled guards, who lowered their spears a hair too late. The Clans were mustering to the bell, but without knowledge of why, they were unprepared to intercept the four riders. The few who tried to block their path crumpled as Kiera and Tau charged towards to them. Once Pol sent a fireball roaring out towards a crowd of hastily assembling warriors. Even with their jade to protect them from harm, they still fled in terror as the street filled with fire hurtling towards them.

They dashed across the bridge towards the River Gate. The gate was closed, lowered by the guards. Tau leapt from his horse, landing with a rough roll before springing to his feet and running towards the gatehouse.

Pol drew up his horse, then dismounted from the saddle. He'd fallen off Brady a few times when he'd started, and this steed was a lot less docile than the old plow horse. But he made it safely to the ground. He began to walk back towards the bridge.

Kiera drew up behind him.

"What fool thing are you doing?"

"Kiera, you need to help Tau at the gate."

"We're not going anywhere without you, Pol."

"I'm going to hold the bridge with magic. It's not going to be safe. And it'll buy you some time to escape with the princess."

"Pol, you're facing down the Dragon Clans. You're barely trained as a Sorcerer. You can't take on their jade."

Pol shook his head, slipping from his saddle. "You've seen what I've done so far. And besides, Mistress Heldi says I'm the most powerful Sorcerer of the age."

He couldn't resist showing off, pulling moisture out of the air to create a ball of water that hovered over his hand. 

Kiera heeled her horse over to him, then smacked the ball of water out of his hand sending it splattering onto the cobblestones.

"Whatever happened to the Lowvale bumpkin cutpurse I knew?"

"He's still here," said Pol, stepping towards her to rest a hand on her leg. She grabbed it, then leaned down from her saddle, cupping Pol's cheek in her hand.

"Good. Promise me I'll see him again."

"I promise."

"Promise me you'll—," she paused, and Pol was shocked to see her cheeks were wet. He'd never even imagined she could cry. 

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"Too late for that, I already got off the horse," said Pol. He'd tried to throw a nonchalant shrug in there, but his voice had choked up and he realized he was tearing up too. 

She kissed him then, hard and hungry, her nose bending from the pressure as it bit into his cheek, but still all too brief. 

"Fuck you, Pol," she said, rising back upright and wheeling her horse around.

"That a promise?"

"Make it back to me and it will be," she called, her voice near to cracking but soldiering on. She gave him one last look and then directed her horse into a gallop.

Pol suddenly felt very alone on the long bridge that connected the River Gate to the rest of Tia Joi. The River Joi roared under him as it tumbled down its waterfall, and he wondered idly if he'd be able to toss a stick off the upstream side and reach the downstream side in time to see it like he had as a child when they'd crossed footbridges in the river. 

"Readied yourself to die, sorcerer?" asked Olene, breaking his reverie.

She and Varomar were standing on the far end of the bridge, a coterie of warriors at their backs. They'd found new jade ornamentation and new weapons. In fact, they were so heavily draped in the stuff they almost appeared to be clothed. Drying blood streaked Olene's face from where Fione had battered her.

"You don't know when it's better to stay down, do you?" asked Pol. He made a series of dismissive hand waves. The first wave washed over the warriors, rending the smaller pieces of jade from their bodies and scattering it into dust. The second broke larger pendants apart. On the third wave, one poor unlucky warrior was carried along into the air as his jewelry was completely stripped from his body and hurled into the second story wall of a nearby building. 

Olene's face twisted into a snarl.

"The warriors of the Dragon Clans do not yield, sneakthief," she spat at him. "Not to the doomed."

Pol laughed. "Doomed, am I? Where I'm standing, it looks a bit like the other way."

Olene grinned at him, her mouth moving but Pol heard no sound. Though it had been a sunny day, the light of the sun was fading. A faint fog was seeping down the river, streams of it climbing the bridge and running across Pol's feet. He took a step towards the warriors, who retreated slightly. By his next step, he was wading up to his waist in the fog, and in a moment he was encased in the stuff, the sight and noise of the world shut out.

"Sorcerer Pol Burr," came a rumbling masculine voice. "I've never heard of you. You must have been after my time."

"Who are you?" called out Pol. The voice had seemed to come behind him, and he turned to look at it.




Dragon Jade Chronicle Ch. 12



"I am the Unyielding Will, the one who makes the Dragon Clans dance, the Tower of Joi sorrowful, and the Guild Rock crack and crumble," answered the voice, now coming from where Pol thought the river might be.

"Riddles!" he cried. "You're a Sorcerer then? You're all so full of riddles!"

"Then here's another for you, Pol Burr," the voice chuckled, once again from a new direction.

"What do you desire?"

"Why should I answer that?"

"Why not?"

Pol shook his head, and then said the first thing that came to his mind.

"What everyone desires: love."

The voice laughed again, roaring its amusement.

"Then what do you desire, O haughty one?" asked Pol.

The voice seemed to be everywhere now, whispering, muttering, singing, and shouting from a thousand mouths.

"What everyone fears: death."

A burst of wind so strong it almost knocked Pol from his feet ripped through the fog, pulling it apart like stage curtains. 

In front of him was the River Gate, and Pol saw with satisfaction that the gate was rising, and knew his friends were about to escape with the Princess. All he had to do was hold against...whoever was talking to him. He turned around.

At the far end of the bridge, the Clan warriors had retreated up the streets and alleys, blocking them off, but staying as far away as possible while still keeping the bridge in sight.

Standing in their stead was a man. He was not so tall as Pol, though not so short as to be remarkable. Wild brown hair danced in the wind on his head, and a heavy but well-groomed beard ran up his cheeks. He wore clothes, not jade, and they were of the finest quality Pol had ever seen, of a fashion he'd never encountered, although that was not surprising, given that Pol had not encountered much fashion. He seemed not so sinister at all.

Except for his eyes. Instead of whites, his eyes were red.

"Who are—" Pol started to ask, but before he could finish, the man raised his hand.

A spout of fire came bursting at Pol, and he reacted without thinking, twisting the air so that it funneled the fire away from him setting alight a house further along the river bank. 

As quickly as he had sent the fire towards Pol, the other man dropped his spell, then rose another one, trying to grab Pol and drag him to the other side of the bridge. 

Pol closed his fist, pulling a handful of cobblestones from the street and hurling them ahead of them as he slid across the bridge. The other Sorcerer was forced to release Pol in order to deflect the missiles hurtling through the air towards him.

"These are jokes, Pol Burr. You are fighting for your life, and all you have are party tricks!" he laughed. 

The red-eyed man threw both his hands forward. A ball of fire, larger than Pol had ever made, ran down the bridge, setting it afire as it passed. 

Pol pulled on the water of the river, and the river bucked up, sending a huge deluge over the bridge then arranging itself in a thick barrier in front of Pol. 

Steam rose as Pol's wall of water blocked the fire the other Sorcerer had sent roaring towards him. There was still space to make a run for the River Gate, and Pol could bring it crashing down behind him, if he needed. At least, he thought he could. In theory, he could. 

The steam cleared, pulled away by a sudden wind, and through his wall of water he could see the other Sorcerer standing there, not moving. 

There was a loud banging noise behind him, and pebbles and shards of rock rained down over his head. He turned to look, just in time to catch sight of another cobblestone exploding, sending its fragments rocketing up in a shower of detritus.

Too late, Pol realized he'd fallen for the other Sorcerer's trick. He spun, trying to hold out his hands to shield himself, as he'd seen Heldi do against the fire in the courtyard during their lesson, but a tendril of ice wrapped itself around his hands and pulled, stretching his arms up over his head as more ice enveloped him, squeezing around his neck, midsection and legs, holding him confined as each tendril coiled to form a wide base that grew and raised him into the air until he was lying on his back. 

His opponent's hand was raised in front of him, the fingers curled as though to grip something tightly. The ice compressed against Pol's chest, he could hear it breaking, and he groaned. The column was shifting, pulling him towards the River Joi. It broke through the railing, sending him toppling over the edge to the water below.

Once he'd fallen five stories out of a window. He'd been pushed, actually. When he told the story, it was a comical tale, a jilted lover finding him in bed with a woman, attacking him as he tried to put on his trousers, a hilarious fall out of the window in his attempts to both get dressed and avoid a beating. The same story he'd told Kiera just before the Canians had come upon them.

But the truth was he'd been thrown out of the window by the jilted lover. An act of maliciousness, an attempted murder for which, as a known thief in the house of what passed for Lowvale's upper-class, there'd been no retribution. 

It hadn't been fun, almost falling to his death. His whole life didn't go flashing before his eyes. Just his failures and disappointments did. How'd he come to be a thief, anyhow? He'd almost been an apprentice butcher. He could be married, he could have had a family. Instead, he'd been almost dying, saved by a lucky cart of dung.

When Pol's mother had died, he'd let the Temple of Vash handle the ceremony. He hadn't wanted to face it, to see her lying there. He didn't even sit guard by her body to keep Kili away, letting the priestesses take care of that, too. 

He wondered if Kiera would guard his body after his funeral. His world was going black, the sounds muffling as the hand of ice grew tighter around his body and he thought he could hear her shouting his name, off in the distance.

And then the waters of the River Joi swallowed him up.