2 comments/ 5871 views/ 0 favorites Honour Among Thieves By: OliviaTwiste It was always a surprise as to what kind of bawdy and raucous distraction Thrain Krull would stage as the conclusion to the monthly meeting of the Thieves' Guild, traditionally held in the spacious cellar of a local wine merchant. As an impeccably shrewd guildmaster, Thrain assured maximum attendance with his "Afters," as they were commonly called among guildmembers. Rarely was the performance specifically advertised in advance, and as a result rumors ran rampant about the possibilities, though there was a strict injunction that these activities not be discussed outside of the guild. Odds were generally in favor of a strong sexual component, Thrain being notorious for his voracious and varied carnal appetites. Once in a while there would be a musical number, or a talented magic-user, but speculation about the spectacle largely centered on extravagant and occasionally aberrant sex acts. Hearsay held that Thrain was in some way sexually handicapped, though the exact story changed versions depending on the teller. Some said his genitals were deformed. Some said he had been cursed or spelled by a scorned lover. There was even an often-guffawed theory about a childhood illness. Despite any deformity, actual or imaginary, he was widely regarded by men and women of most races as being unusually attractive. Over six feet tall, Thrain had a broad-shouldered, lithe and lean build that spoke of his physical abilities. He had a thick, mane-like mass of red hair, infinitely expressive eyes that were almost golden in color, high cheekbones, and a pencil-thin mustache a shade darker than his mane. However, as handsome, clever and powerful men are prone to do, Thrain had expertly parlayed this mystery to his advantage. The mystique surrounding his sexuality augmented his significance and social standing as guildmaster. ------------------------------------------------- Three heavy, long wooden tables had been arranged lengthwise down the windowless room, perpendicular to the raised platform at one end. Their benches bore a fantastical and secretive collection of humans, elves, dwarves, gnomes and halflings. Five massive chandeliers suspended from chains above spread a mixture of magickal and real-flame light throughout the subterranean meeting room. A well-endowed crew of serving wenches brought a variety of drinks to the tables while matters of thievery were discussed and voted upon. Though by rights such a crowded and enclosed place should have smelled worse, the air in the room had the pleasant odour of leaf-smoke and savory winespices. Thrain sat in his usual place, a large but not ornate wooden chair up on the dais at the front of the room. This evening, everyone noted the plush couch off to his left which hinted at impending debauchery with its satiny black fabric and suggestively-curved brass accents. Beside the couch, less noticeable, was a small table. On the table lay a plain leather pouch and a silver-chased tray holding a glass filled with a sparkling iridescent liquid. When the mundane business had all been addressed, Thrain's eyes roved the gathering of thieves at the three long tables in front of him, and came to rest on an emerald gem. The gem was the half-elven thief Oriana Yu. Almost six feet tall, her slender and statuesque figure was swathed in a nearly luminescent green garment. The sleeveless dress drew attention to her olive-toned skin, and an intricate gold band clasped her left arm. Her long raven-dark hair was brushed down simply and neatly, and the pointed tips of her elfin ears peeked through the curtain of surrounding black. A twisted golden cord was sashed about her narrow waist. "You look lovely this evening, Oriana," said Thrain and beckoned with his hand for her to approach his chair, presumably so he could admire her at closer range. Though it was unthinkable, for the briefest of moments Oriana thought about declining his invitation, but realized immediately how stupid it would be to refuse the attention of the guildmaster under any circumstances. She rose from her seat and made her way to Thrain's chair on the dais. She stood in front of him, at a respectful distance, knowing that the crowd was riveted on the scene. Thrain held out one of his hands to her, and she tentatively took it, feeling a shiver of something at the base of her spine. He gently pulled her a little closer, but then held out her hand as if he were truly appreciating her attire, and deftly guided her to turn and face away from him so that the thieves below could partake of the view. "Lovely," he reiterated with her back toward him, and the crowd emitted echoing murmurs of admiration. Oriana could not suppress a flush in her cheeks at the excess of attention. She felt him stand up from the chair behind her. "Come have a seat with me," he said, not waiting for her answer, but slipping his arm easily about her waist and directing her toward the couch. The crowd persisted in its mutterings, which were growing slightly louder in anticipation. As soon as Oriana was seated on the couch, she understood that she herself was meant to be the evening's entertainment. She usually excused herself for Afters, preferring to return home to enjoy the tangible company of her half-dragon lover rather than devote herself to voyeurism and vicariousness. But she was by no means a prude, and did not disparage others for indulging in alternate amusements. He sensed the commencement of her decision-making process. "Don't think too hard just yet," Thrain laughed, "when I haven't presented you with the particulars." She smiled, a very small smile, and bowed her head just a little. She looked at him with seriousness in her clear hazel eyes and told him, "I'm listening." Thrain reached for the pouch on the table, picked it up and placed it in her lap. The weight and feeling of it suggested coins. "Look inside," he enjoined, and waited for her to unlace the strings and glance at the contents. There were gold coins, lots of them, and the glint of a good number of precious jewels besides. "You have my word that no harm will be done to you," he began. Oriana was hardly foolish, and took his statement to mean that no physical harm would be intentionally inflicted. She saw that there could be incidental injuries, not all of which might be limited to the physical. Her greatest concern was for her reputation among the guildmembers. Though unquestionably attractive, she wasn't very highly regarded at any rate. Being half-elven, she had been enured to racial biases since early childhood. As she was also a magic-user, many considered her not to be a true thief. Oriana had reason to believe that whatever was going to happen on the stage might actually improve her standing in the guild, notoriety being far preferable to anonymity. "I'm still listening," she said. Thrain smiled, and continued to lay out the terms. "In exchange for the pouch you are holding, you'll exchange pleasures with a volunteer and myself." Oriana imagined herself being subjected to the carnal affections of a horrid-looking gnome with buck teeth and a hunched back who had sat across the table from her earlier during the meeting. He had made a show of groping the serving wenches and leering unabashedly in Oriana's direction. Unable to stomach the prospect of pleasure with a grotesque partner, she was about to decline as politely as she could manage. Just as she was about to open her mouth to begin, Thrain started talking again. "I, and you, have the liberty of refusing any volunteer without giving a reason and asking for another." He seemed to have read her mind. "And all you have to do is enjoy yourself," Thrain concluded with calculated nonchalance, as if his proposal had been about something far less shocking. Oriana considered in silence for a few minutes. While she was not swayed by Thrain's conclusion, the meatier parts of his offer seemed to hold some merit. His promise of no intentional physical harm, the right of refusal, and the size of the purse were respectable. "I accept," she said, though it was impossible for her to dispel all doubts. "We'll need a volunteer," Thrain told the audience. "Me!" came an anxious gurgling cry immediately from one of the tables. It was the gnome. He'd climbed up on the table and was pointing at himself with two gnarled thumbs. "No, thank you, Master Hobblegood," Thrain said kindly. The gnome in his drunken clumsiness got down from the table, and Oriana suppressed the urge to breathe a visible sigh of relief. It had been thoughtful and shrewd of Thrain to refuse the gnome and save her the mild inconvenience. "Next?" "I volunteer," said a female voice, soft, seductive and strong. A beautiful elven woman, not quite as tall as Oriana, stood up from the bench on which she sat and stood in the aisle between the tables, hand on her hip, where Thrain could get a good look at her. The woman was a shapely, fair-haired, fair-skinned elf who wore a dark cloak over her brown leather side-laced leggings and flimsy white slip of a shirt. "Nienna! How unexpected!" Thrain declared approvingly. He looked to Oriana, obviously waiting for her acceptance. The crowd appeared to collectively hold a hopeful breath. Oriana had a bristle of suspicion that this was not necessarily an unexpected offer, that it could have easily been previously arranged. She gave her answer regardless of suspicion or previous planning. "No, thank you," she said. "I'm flattered," she added, wanting to ensure that she had not inadvertently offended the woman. Though she was able to assess the other woman objectively as being attractive, Oriana had in point of fact never in her forty elven years found another woman sexually desirable. The elf woman Nienna did not appear to be manifestly insulted, and resumed her seat much more gracefully than the gnome had. Before a disappointed Thrain had a chance to ask for the next volunteer, another male voice called out, "I'll do it." Both Oriana and Thrain looked hard to see who it was. The voice was considerably clearer and soberer than the gnome's. Oriana felt both relief and worry upon recognizing her housemate and fellow thief, Devlin Creede. They'd left the house separately earlier, and were generally more prone to fits of intense rivalry than friendship. She'd recently perpetrated an ultra gutsy stunt by slipping a love potion into his orange juice at breakfast several weeks ago. And when he'd fallen instantly amorous, she had sweetly and slyly asked for all of his money. Of course he gave it to her without the slightest hesitation, being under the influence of the potion. The effects lasted a while, several weeks in fact. At the sanctimonious insistences of their party's clerics, Oriana had relented and reversed the situation, and returned a fuming Devlin his money. "Now THIS is terribly interesting!" Thrain exclaimed, fairly clapping his hands in delight and gesturing vehemently for Devlin to join them on the dais. "Come up! Come up!" Devlin ascended the dais steps and came to the couch, taking up a seat on the unoccupied space on the other side of Oriana. His demeanor suggested some reluctance as well as a strange resolve. The first thing Oriana noticed when Devlin sat down was that, though she was several inches taller, the difference in their heights didn't seem to be as great. He was also trim and well-muscled, with a dashing reckless mess of brown curls and blue eyes. He couldn't very well return to the house and report to the rest of the party that he'd just stood by while Oriana was publicly used for pleasure. "Are there any conditions to your participation?" Thrain asked Devlin. "Half the money," Devlin said flatly, staring blankly at the polished wooden planks of the floor. A moment later, he added, "And no one else touches her. Just me and you." Thrain thought all of that extremely funny. After suppressing his mirth, he asked Oriana, "Do you accept those terms?" Striking a bargain between true thieves is a most difficult endeavor, as it is in their natures to want to take more than their fair share. Devlin's demand that the contents of the pouch be split equally between them seemed to her like more than his fair share. But if she refused, he could easily step down and allow another unfamiliar volunteer to take his place. A stranger might not be so considerate as to limit the number of participants in the performance. "I accept," Oriana said, feeling she didn't really have any other viable choices. "Fantastic!" said Thrain, smiling widely. "We have an arrangement." He motioned for an attendant dwarf who stood just below the dais in a corner to take the pouch on the table and divide it equally into two. Then, he reached for the glass on the table. "Drink this," Thrain encouraged, holding it out to Oriana. She took the glass, but he noted the concern in her expression. "It would be silly of me to poison you in front of everyone," he pointed out good-naturedly. "It will help you relax." She shot a glance at Devlin, who was watching her closely. For some reason, she sensed he was her protector in this situation, whatever else he might be. He gave a nod, a simple silent assurance. She drank it all in a single gulp. There had been but one glass on the table, but even so Devlin was determined he wasn't going to drink anything. "Have you ever seen her naked?" Thrain asked Devlin, not taking his eyes off Oriana, leaning a little closer to her on the couch and fingering the golden cord at her waist. It was difficult for Devlin to answer truthfully and quickly, chiefly because he could not dispel two particular memories. Once he had run into her in the downstairs kitchen late at night. Thinking no one else was awake, she'd carelessly thrown on a thin white ruffled blouse which had barely covered her damned heart-shaped ass. Even in the nearly pitch black kitchen it had been impossible for him to ignore, though it seemed she completely disregarded him as she gathered up a plate of fruit and some drink to bring back upstairs. On another occasion, passing by her bedroom door, he had glimpsed through the crack a vision of her long bare arms outstretched, her wrists tethered by red velvet straps to the posts of her bed while her dragon lover, in his human form, took her from behind. Devlin was hardly starved for sex himself, having now a buxom little housewench at his disposal, before which there had been a nearly interminable string of willing village girls. "Not completely," Devlin managed after a moment or two of distracted reflection. He realized that Oriana had been searching his face, anxiously awaiting the answer. "Stand up for us, lovely one," instructed Thrain. The crowd subsided into a respectful quiet. Oriana did as he bade, and he stood up with her, though Devlin remained seated. Having assessed the assembly of her garment, and standing to the side so as not to obstruct the audience, Thrain's dextrous fingers undid the knotted cord at her waist. He tossed the cord onto the couch. It landed in a random ropey pile next to Devlin. Before even he knew what he was doing, Devlin had snatched up the cord. Thrain placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her forward a few steps, and then moved to stand behind her. His hands stroked her shoulders, and she could already begin feel the effects of the drink. It was making her very warm and very sensitive. When Thrain's hands, which now seemed to her to be somehow much hotter than they had been only a moment ago, started to slide the shoulders of her garment down her arms, Oriana knew she should feel at least a twinge of embarrassment about being denuded in public. But the slipping away of her self-consciousness was another effect of the drink. She was now totally nude, save for the gold band that adorned her left arm and her golden sandals with their thin sparkling strings criss-crossing around her calves. She'd not bothered with undergarments this evening. Her high full breasts scarcely needed support, and she hadn't wanted the bulk of a pair of underdrawers to disturb the smoothness of the silken dress across her bottom. A nearly perfect triangle of short dark hair graced the juncture of her strong thighs. "Put your hands behind your back," Devlin told Oriana, standing behind her now and holding the cord in his hands. She knew what he meant to do. Thrain put forth no objection. She placed her hands behind her back, crossing her wrists together. With skill comparable to that which Thrain had demonstrated in removing the cord, Devlin wrapped it around her wrists and bound them with a solid knot. "She's a magic user too," Devlin explained unnecessarily to Thrain. "Wouldn't want her to accidentally cast a spell." Of course Thrain already knew that Oriana was a magic-user. As guildmaster, it was his duty and delight to have vast and intimate knowledge about his guildmembers. "Might be too late," mused Thrain, who brought one of his hands to her jutting tits and bent his head down to wetly worship a hardened nipple. Devlin clutched her other tit tightly, squeezing. He brought his fingers to the nipple, pinching and twisting. He had seen enough in passing to have exquisite instincts about precisely the kind of treatment his housemate truly enjoyed. Struck by the contrast in their simultaneous caresses, Oriana let her head fall back and closed her eyes to try to sort out the sensations. They stopped before she wanted them to. Thrain, being the larger of the two men, picked up their delectably trussed parcel and arranged her on the couch so that she was on her knees. He pointed to the end of the couch where her head was, meaning for Devlin to sit there. Devlin lifted Oriana's head by grabbing a handful of long dark hair and pulling up, then sat with her head on his knees. Her face was turned upward toward his, her features fixed in an expression he couldn't quite read. Thrain moved the small table aside and went to his knees too, on the floor beside the couch and ran his hot hands all over her ass. "Is she wet?" Devlin asked Thrain, though his eyes were locked with Oriana's. He still had her by the hair. Thrain's hand went between her legs and his fingers opened her pussy. With a single digit he shallowly swiped her slit. "Very," he confirmed. The crowd offered hushed approval. "Would you like to fuck her ass?" Thrain asked Devlin, spreading her ass cheeks and eyeing the beguiling pucker of her asshole. He touched it very lightly with his wet finger, and when Devlin did not respond, Thrain turned to the crowd. "Would you like to see that?" he asked them, at which they broke into a loud chant. "Fuck her ass! Fuck her ass!" they shouted joyously, banging their ale tankards and fists clamorously on the tables. Thrain made a shushing gesture at the thieves below, and when they had sufficiently quieted, looked pointedly at Devlin. "Make sure she gets your cock nice and wet." Thrain then buried his face in her asscheeks and began licking lustily at both of her holes. Oriana groaned and gave Devlin a desperate look. Her eyes fluttered closed, and when they opened she was fixated on his crotch. Her lips parted and her tongue darted across them hungrily. Her hunger snapped Devlin out of his state of shock and disbelief, and he unfastened his pants. He'd even felt a passing twinge of concern at her desperation, momentarily unsure of whether she wanted this whole crazy thing to come to a stop. But at the sight of her tongue, he knew she wanted more. He drew out the hard thickness of his cock and shoved it into her eager mouth. "You heard him," Devlin told her. "Get it all sloppy wet so we can put it in your lovely ass." "Mmmm," she moaned agreeably around Devlin's cock. Honour Among Thieves The crowd cheered. Thrain appeared to be noticeably bolstered by the crowd's cheers. He gave her ass a good smack and applied himself to eating her asshole with a renewed vigor. For Oriana, as a result of the drink, the crowd had largely vanished from her perception. The drink was a focus potion which narrowed reality to the drinker and their immediate surroundings. She could still clearly see and feel Thrain and Devlin, but the crowd was no longer an influence on any of her actions or reactions. Devlin tried to think of repulsive things, like the smell of burnt troll, to keep himself distracted while Oriana salivated copiously all over his cock. It became more difficult as she gave in to the pleasure that Thrain was providing, groaning harder and mewling deliciously with Devlin deep in her mouth. Having lubed up her asshole with his spit, Thrain sat back and brought a thick finger to the hole. "Spread her ass for me," Thrain said to Devlin, who let go of Oriana's hair and reached two hands down her beautiful back to her ass, pulling the lush curves apart to give Thrain full access. "I bet we can make her come like this," Thrain grinned, pushing his finger all the way into her hot tight ass. He bent forward and licked at her pussy, then closed his mouth around her clit and started to suck. At the same time, he started to slide his finger in and out of her ass. "Does that feel good?" Devlin asked, addressing Oriana. Though his cock was still deep in her mouth, she tried to respond. It came out as a muffled "Mmmnnn Hmmm." "Maybe she needs another finger in there," Devlin suggested to Thrain. Without moving his mouth, Thrain worked a second finger in with the first. When he moved the both of them, wiggling and spreading them inside her asshole, Oriana shrieked. Concerned that she might be in pain, Devlin grabbed her hair again and lifted her mouth off his cock. He pulled her head back and looked at her eyes. Their glazed gaze did not appear to be anything other than totally blissful. "It... feels... so... good..," she labored to tell him in between full-mouthed sighs. "Come for us," he told her. The crowd cheered encouragement, but she didn't hear it. Thrain stepped up the pace of his two-fingered ass-fucking and sucked harder at her clit. Devlin reached a hand underneath her and roughly tweaked her nipples. He was watching her face for signs of strain and discomfort, but in her eyes he saw a heady mix of relief, gratitude, and surrender. "Cumming," she mouthed at Devlin. Intense spasms wracked her lithe elfin frame. Thrain and Devlin steadily continued to ply her tits, clit and asshole with their talents. She screamed, several times, but they did not stop until she quieted and the spasms subsided. During her orgasm, the crowd was also very loud. A good number of the thieves below were masturbating themselves, or were partnered with someone else in various states of sexual congress. In a spectacular testament to Oriana's infectious sensuality, a lot of people reached their orgasms at the same time as hers. With two fingers still lodged in her asshole, Thrain stood up. "She's ready for that ass-fucking now," he told Devlin, and easily slid in a third finger. He slowly pumped the trio of digits into her ass. "You should have her ask for it," Thrain suggested, "Maybe beg." Making Oriana beg to be ass-fucked by him in public seemed a perfectly appropriate vengeance for her love potion stunt. Devlin liked the idea immediately. "Beg me to fuck your ass," he told her, giving one of her tits a sharp slap for emphasis. Amazingly, Oriana took to her penance as quickly as he had. "Please fuck my ass. I need your cock in my ass." Devlin shoved her head to the side and got up from the couch to take Thrain's place at her rear. The guildmaster stepped aside, smiling as he slipped his fingers out. Wanting to draw out her punishment, Devlin did not shove his cock straight into her ass. He swabbed with the head of it around her leaking pussy and teasingly stroked it against her asshole. "Beg!" he barked. The flat of one hand cracked hard against one of her asscheeks. "Pleeeaaase!" Oriana cried, fairly sobbing with need. "I need it! Please! Fuck my ass! Please!" Devlin obliged, sinking the length of his cock fully into her. Thrain's fingers had expertly stretched her ass, but the fit was still snug. "Ooooh," breathed Oriana, her crimson-flushed cheek pressed against the dark satin of the couch cushion. Her face was turned toward their audience, but she was oblivious to them. She could only focus on her ass being full of Devlin's cock and the titillating friction of his unremoved clothing against her bare skin. As Thrain was no longer touching her, he had vanished from her perception. Without any pretense of a gentle overture, Devlin began to ruthlessly fuck her as hard as he could. Oriana appeared to delight in his ravaging manner. She groaned loudly and continuously, occasionally calling out the name of a deity. With hands bound and bent over, she could hardly do more. Many members of the crowd had recovered from their previous orgasms, and were roaring crude words to goad Devlin onward in his carnal assault. Prompted by the crowd's noise, and his own devious inclinations, Devlin's eye caught the glint of the cord he had coiled around her wrists. He grabbed it and pulled her upright back against him. As soon as she was upright, he released the cord and took her again by the hair, wrapping the dark silk length of it around his wrist like a rein. "You like that, don't you?" he growled in her ear, loud enough for the crowd to hear too. "Yes!" she choked out. "Louder!" "Yes!Yes!" "Do you want to come again?" he asked her, his tone dripping with honeyed mockery. He was using the cruel thrusts of his thick and throbbing cock to punctuate his words. "Yes!" "Beg for it." "Please make me come! I want to come with your cock in my ass!" His free hand snaked around between her legs, and his fingers took to furiously frigging her slippery clit. His cock made strong, steady strokes as he continued to pummel her asshole. "Come!" he commanded, moving his fingers faster. "Aaaaaah!" Oriana howled, succumbing helplessly to his order. She could not really squirm, held fast as she was by his firm hands and the cord around her wrists, but her lean-muscled thighs trembled violently and she panted heavily for a full minute. She felt her heartbeat rushing in her ears. The crowd howled too, some of them mustering enough spunk to orgasm a second time. "Say 'thank you'," prompted Devlin when it seemed Oriana's passion had ebbed and the crowd was quiet enough to catch his words. "Thank you!" she gasped, in genuine gratitude. "My turn," said Devlin. He released his grip on her hair and pushed her top half back down again onto the couch. Now he set to pleasing himself by rapidly and forcefully driving his swollen cock into her asshole. "You want me to come in your ass?" he asked, feeling his balls tighten. "Yes! Please! Come in my ass!" Oriana said as loudly as she could with her mouth against a couch cushion. With a determined grunt, Devlin emptied his load deep in Oriana's ass. She could feel the hot splash of each spurt inside her, and murmured muffled pleased sounds into the cushion. She even tried to wiggle her ass back against him to make sure she had it all. When Devlin slid his cock out, she moaned sadly and softly. "Let us see! Let us see!" chanted the crowd eagerly. In his post-orgasmic stupor, it took Devlin a moment to ascertain their meaning. Keeping his hands on her at all times, he rearranged Oriana on the couch so that her chest was leaned against the back of it and her ass was facing the audience. He stood behind the couch, reaching down to spread her ass cheeks so everyone could see her reddened gaping asshole with thick creamy strands of his come leaking out of it. There was abundant applause. When the clapping died down, Devlin realized that sometime during the latter part of the performance, Thrain had disappeared from the stage. ------------------------------------------------- As the crowd began to leave, some in small groups and some alone, Devlin sat on the couch next to Oriana and reached to undo the knot that kept her hands bound. It came loose for him easily, and she brought her arms forward and began to slowly rub her wrists. He had not tied the cord very tightly, but in the extended period of time she'd spent with them secured together had slightly impeded circulation. "Do they hurt?" Devlin asked, "Not really," she admitted. "Reflex I guess." Still naked, she stretched her elegant arms and reached toward the table, picking up one of the two pouches that the dwarf had brought back, and handing it to Devlin. She noticed that there was now also a bowl of water and a small towel on the table. "Are we even now?" she asked, looking at Devlin squarely. "Yeah," Devlin said, smiling. Oriana smiled too, took the towel and dipped it in the water to wipe herself, thankful for the small consideration that would save her beautiful green dress from unseemly staining. While she was washing, Devlin picked up her dress from the floor of the dais, and held it out to her. Oriana stood and slipped it back into place over her body and refastened the golden cord about her waist. Devlin had already tucked his cock back into his pants and done them up. "What happened to Thrain?" she asked. "Beats me," Devlin shrugged. "He missed the best part." She laughed a little at that. They both knew it would look very odd to their other housemates if they were to return to the house arm in arm after a guild meeting, each with a new pouch of coins. But they did walk close together to the meeting room door, accepting congratulatory comments and salacious accolades from the stragglers who had not left yet. "I'm headed back to the house," Oriana declared when they reached the door, already thinking of a secret place in the dooryard that she could stash her pouch before going inside. "I've got a few things to do before I head that way," said Devlin, though he really didn't. He thought he might wander down by the river for a while, or perhaps he would find a card game in the gambling district and put his new wealth to use. Not knowing exactly how to wrap up their encounter, but not wishing to linger any longer, Oriana whispered a word of thanks as she ducked through the arched doorway into the darkness outside.