0 comments/ 23605 views/ 3 favorites Phera Moans By: CivilHomicide The sweet sounds of battle still rang in her ears, reverberating through her body even though the final blows had fallen hours ago. It may have been because the ground she was standing on was thick with the blood of the devils they had slaughtered. The heavy aroma of death was just as exhilarating as the first time she had taken a life, sucking the energy from the rapist scum who had thought she was just a common whore. It may have been the shearing sound of her companions cleaning and sharpening their weapons, grimy and dulled from piercing armor, rending flesh, and shattering bones. It also may have been because that sadist Eron was busy burning alive the only survivor. "Finish killing that thing. We are packing up and I am not going to wait for you while you play around." Phera cocked an eyebrow at him as she oiled the chain on her morningstar, snapping it back into her palm as Eron proceeded to boil the creature's brain in its skull. She shrugged, running a final check on her gear before absorbing it into her supple skin. She then donned a simple peasant's dress that had been cut to exhibit her full curves and the fact that she was nude beneath it. Her large nipples hardening as she drank in her last breath of sweat and gore, she cast an alluring smile at Eron and headed off down the path to the next town. ********************************************** "Halt!" While admittedly neither the picture of blood-drenched heathenism nor pious radiance, the companions were known to stand out, whether or not it was their intention. Either way, the gate guards for this mid-sized town decided it was time for a "random" inspection for contraband, untaxed goods, or anything else that would show badly on them if smuggled past. "And what is a young lady like you doing with this band of ruffians?" The head of the guards tried to eye Phera suspiciously. All he managed to do was stare at the cloth that was stretched tight over her breasts with half-hidden lust and slight curiosity. Linking her hands in front of her, setting up an image of naïve innocence while in actuality just improving her cleavage, she smiled sweetly at the pudgy, middle aged man before her. "I was coming here from a neighboring village to visit some relatives, and my father decided it was too dangerous for me to walk the deep, dark forest all alone. So he hired these nice gentlemen to accompany me, since they were coming here anyway. They have been ever so kind." A few batted eyelashes later, the rest of they group was waved through the gates. "Not so fast, little lady. While your father may have trusted them, it is my job to be cautious. I am going to have to check to see if those men planted anything on you in your sleep, thinking that you would not be searched. Just come into my office and we can look things over there." One or two coughs covered snickers from his subordinates as he led her into a small room built into the wall. Phera thanked her "escort" for protecting her, letting her hips fall into a sensual, seemingly unconscious sway as she followed him inside. She even pretended to start as the man locked the door behind him. "Would not want anyone barging in here, now would we?" She shook her head softly as he started patting her down, getting in the occasional cheap grope. By the time he had finished searching her dress, she was blushing crimson and the smell of her arousal was filling the room. Breathing as heavy as he was to begin with, the guard's mind was beginning to haze as images of her naked body started flitting across his imagination. "Now open your mouth real wide. I need to see if they put anything in your gums or down your throat." With a small nod, she slowly opened her mouth, shyly at first, then showing her perfect little teeth, wet tongue, and perfectly functioning tonsils. Phera could easily accommodate a fully grown man's fist, with room to avoid the teeth. The guard was close to grinning as he poked around, even "accidentally" checking her gag reflex a few times. "Hmm. I cannot reach very far back there with my hands. Kneel, and I will search it with something else. Do not be alarmed, this is standard procedure." Missing the woman's smirk a she dropped to her knees, he hastily unbuttoned his trousers before shoving his member into her mouth and twisting his fingers in her thick blonde strands. Thrusting as deep into her as he could, he reveled in the sensation of her breath in his pubic hair as he roughly poked her uvula. Muttering something about her sucking to dislodge anything he may have missed, the guard nearly collapsed as she expertly wrapped her tongue around him while creating an impressive vacuum in her mouth. He continued to pound into her until deciding he wanted to try out the rest. She had poured so much lust into him it was unlikely he could remember his own name. "Alright now, stand up and remove the dress. I need to check the other holes." Phera chose to hesitate slightly, just enough for the man to decide she was taking too long, pulling the cloth over her head with enough force to tear it a bit where the bodice had been stretching. There was no pretense as he gaped, looking over the heavy, firm breasts on her petite frame, the smooth stomach and the flared hips. Once he got to the barely blonde furred, engorged, dripping pussy lips, all though was lost. He picked her up and unceremoniously plopped her down on the edge of a table and slammed his cock into her. Unendowed as the man was, he was just long enough to rip through her maidenhead and just thick enough to be able to appreciate her virgin tightness. He was also just aware enough to catch the small scream as she took in the pain, though not enough to care. He took her as roughly as he could with what he was given; cursing that he did not have enough to really give it to her like he wanted. All the same, her quiet moans as pleasure overrode the pain was urging him to cum, to make her hot little body drip with his seed. Feeling his balls tighten up, he threw her back and started viciously groping her breasts, suckling one nipple as if he expected it would be his last. Their groans matched, Phera holding his mouth tight to her as he spurted his few drops. His continued much longer than hers as he felt his orgasm hold out longer than he was used to. It transformed into a muffled yell as he felt her pussy suck the energy out of him through his cock. The more he was drained, the more he tried to struggle, and the less he was able to. Less than a minute later she felt him collapse. Rolling her eyes, she pushed his motionless body off of her. Not finding anything else clean enough, she wiped the blood and semen from her thighs before pulling her torn dress back over her head. Humming a local tune, she removed his coinpurse and anything else of sufficient value, stepped over his corpse and out the back door. *************************************************** "Took you long enough. This one actually bother searching you?" Eron gave Phera a slightly irritated look as she wandered through the door of their previously appointed room, before ripping off her dress and throwing it in the fire. "Yes, to the same degree as all the rest. He did not even bother trying to seduce me like the last man. Damned inconsiderate rapists. Never even hold off long enough to let me cum." "It looks as though he was trying to give you a beating while he was busy. Those bruises look like they would be permanent on anyone else. And nice touch with the blood. I take it he had a thing for blonde virgins?" "His mind was broadcasting it loud enough. You should have seen what he was intending for his daughter once she came of age." "Maybe later. You also might want to clean yourself up. You smell like him and they are going to find his body soon." "I am well aware of that, and now I go to the bathing room." Slipping on one of the bathrobes the house provided, Phera grinned at him as she ran her fingers through her now curly red hair. Making sure she was mostly revealed, she walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind her with her long, scaled tail. Eron rolled his eyes at the spectacle and returned to his studies. "Damned succubus." Phera Moans Ch. 02 The sensation of the steaming water on her skin was one of the reasons their scout had chosen to book the group in this particular inn. Not the baths, specifically, but because it was comfortable without being outrageously expensive. It was wealthy enough to be able to provide good food, fully furnished rooms, and its own bath house. It was not, however, overly lavish. It was meant for travelers and woodsmen who had some money and who needed somewhere to relax. The food was still local meats and vegetables, served in a common room on the main floor. Room service, no matter what it was, still cost extra and was only on request, though if the room was being rented for more than a week, the house absorbed basic cleaning bills every few days. The men's and women's baths were still just separated by a wood and plaster wall and were supplied with common cakes of soap and large, if slightly rough, towels and cloths. There was no gilding, no silks or furs, no exotic dishes, and the dividing wall still had a few peepholes in it. Which was what had Phera interested at the moment. As soon as she had entered the bathing area, she could sense the men staring at her, a few of the women as well, and she did love to give a good show. Since her last form would be hunted down for the death of the head of the gate guards, she had morphed into a new one before she had arrived at her appointed room. Not that she felt guilty. The man had been doing things and planning to do things that would have earned him a hanging should he ever have been discovered, but getting arrested and interrogated was always such an inconvenience. Admittedly, she was never held longer than she wanted to be. Seducing the guards, no matter their preference, was in her nature. If they decided to abuse their position and her body, she would simply kill them and loot their corpses. If they were especially repugnant, she would kill them slowly. Once in a while they would honestly try to get her to exchange sex for better treatment, with no intentions more malicious than simply getting some action from a willing woman. These she just left unconscious and minus anything highly valuable on their persons. Phera could also think of at least a half dozen times that they had either just ignored her or had spent so much time arguing amongst themselves that she had become bored and left. On this occasion, she did not have time to be tied up, with the legal system or otherwise. They needed to pick up their latest assignment and get out of there before the seasons changed, so the busty blonde with the nearly unhingable jaw would never been seen in this town again. She was replaced with a vaguely androgynous redhead with tight curls, a smattering of freckles, and a look about her that made people wonder just how old she was. And people were wondering right now. The women in the bath wanted to know how she managed to keep her skin so young while possessing a grace beyond her apparent years. The voyeuristic men were just wondering if she was old enough to fuck. After tiring of their surface thoughts, Phera grabbed some soap and a cleansing cloth, sat on the edge of the bath, and began slowly washing herself, making sure to show herself off as much as possible, all the while releasing waves of sex hormones into the air. Starting at one shoulder, she washed down the length of one arm, then the other, before moving to her torso. Rubbing at her upper chest and down her ribs, she intentionally avoided her smallish breasts while cleaning everywhere around them. Once she had covered all of the flesh there, and once her nipples were so swollen in anticipation some of her audience wondered if they were going to pop, she circled them with the warm, wet cloth, squeezing gently with every pass. Having determined her breasts were clean enough after having played with them for almost a minute, Phera pulled one of her tiny feet even with her face and started washing between her toes. A she worked her way up her own leg, she extended it vertically until it was stretched out above her head while she washed her hip and upper thigh. Once she had finished her ministration of her other leg in the same manner, all of the peepholes in the wall were occupied, and some of the women were blatantly staring. Sensing an opportunity in the pause, an obviously curious, matronly woman slid up to her. "Would like some help washing the rest, dear? I know how difficult it can be to clean all those places on your back." Having been fully aware of the woman's arousal and curiosity for some time, Phera smiled demurely and handed her the cloth. "Yes, thank you. And maybe after you do me, I can do you..." There was just a hint of a mischievous glint in her eye as she stood in the water and faced the dividing wall. By the sound of it, some of the men on the other side had gone to get their friends for the show. With a wink, Phera linked her hands behind her head as her new "friend" began trying to rub the kinks out of her neck and shoulders. "Ooh, that feels so good. I have been so tense for so long. You can rub me like this any time you want." The woman's only response was a moaning sigh which was mimicked from the men as more of a groan. Taking the hint, she tentatively ran her hands lower, now caressing Phera's tight little butt, though she was slightly thrown off as Phera spread her legs to give her more access. Suddenly feeling much more courageous, the woman slid the cloth deep between her cheeks and down to her waiting pussy, though trying to make it appear as if she was washing her upper thighs. "Oh, my, I am so glad we are in this nice, hot water. If we had been doing this on the floor, I would have collapsed by now. Do you enjoy getting so hot and wet?" With nothing but a grunt and a nod, the woman nearly whimpered when Phera gripped the sides of the bath, bent over and presented herself. After one expectant and encouraging look, the woman overcame her shock and started rubbing the cloth over Phera's pussy, occasionally sliding between the lips to earn a gasp or a moan from the lithe redhead. A short time later she discarded the cloth entirely, running her fingers over the wet slit, plunging them in from time to time, and tweaking her clit. Phera started moaning louder, getting sympathy grunts from the audience, all of whom were either passively or quite intently stroking themselves. With one very vocal wail, her muscles clenched and the woman felt her hand become covered with the sweet juices. "Oh, now she has gone and made you dirty again. Sit up on this ledge here and I will make sure you get nice and clean." Another of the women had decided to take her chances, and once Phera was propped up, she planted her face in that still twitching pussy. Signaling for the first woman to kneel over her face, Phera reminded her that she had promised to reciprocate before shoving her tongue in the warm hole. Holding the woman's hips down, she extended her supernaturally long tongue and began probing her g-spot, causing the long-neglected matron to buck and gasp in pleasure. 'Must be new at this.' Phera directed her thoughts towards the young woman between her legs. Young, long, and well-muscled, she took the girl to be a dancer. Old enough to be with men at maybe twenty-three, she was still too young to be famous and too dedicated to waste her time on them. Phera caught a flash of fear, an image of a busy-fingered instructor, and the desire to prove herself before concentrating on what the girl was doing, not what she was thinking. She faked a few appreciative moans into the matron's pussy, combining the vibrations with her expert tongue and being rewarded with a scream and a flood of juices as the woman erupted in a series of orgasms intense enough for her to lose consciousness. Sensing the temporary loss of mental capacity and the younger woman's tiring mouth, she pushed the matron off of her before letting out a few yelps, a light trickle of wetness, and a long sigh to let the audience know she was finished. Phera sat up and gently stroked the young woman's cheek, smiling sweetly. "You have the potential to become very good at that, girl. Maybe the rest of you can help clean her up, too? I need to meet someone in a few minutes." Quickly rinsing the mess from her face and thighs, Phera dried off and pulled on her robe, watching as a few women roused the matron, a few began relieving the dancer's new tensions, and the remaining had wandered over to the dividing wall to "converse" with their significant others who no doubt were busy adding to the gooey mess on their side. She ducked out of the bathing area and went up to her room to dress. ******************** ***************************** An hour later, Phera frowned at the new assignment that had arrived by messenger while she had been bathing. They had worked for this man before, and he was not one to hire mercenaries for a light romp; he paid very well for what he wanted done, which helped with the cost of frequently resurrecting companions while they were on the job. While most of the group was expendable, Phera, Eron, and a couple others were noticeably powerful in battle, enough to draw a majority of the fire and be killed more often than they preferred. The man was a fairly high- ranking official and had a hobby of collecting the rare and dangerous. That particular combination had made him a lot of enemies over the course of his life, so the work he hired them for ranged from capturing and/or killing said enemies or any other threats to his collection, to actually increasing his collection. This job was to be the latter of the two. That which had caught his most recent attention was a semi-mythical set of jewels, complete with matching amulet, headband, rings, bracers, etc. Rumored to have been a wedding present from a notoriously womanizing king to his new trophy wife, they were supposed to be worth several thousand gold for just one small piece, and worth the price of a decent-sized kingdom as a set. Having conquered an area containing rich dwarven mines as his last wife lay on her deathbed, he used the materials and the skills of those he had just conquered to construct the gift for his mistress. Indestructible as well as covered in wards, it was believed that the king often showed less concern for his new wife than for her jewels, which he had her prominently display at all times, almost never removing them. The maids often whispered that the king meant to be compensating for the lack of more important things that he brought to the marriage. They did more than whisper when the queen was caught wearing naught but her jewels and a smile in the bed of the king's only son, who, at nearly thirty, resembled his lovely mother far more than the king had hoped. Under threat of a monastery for the prince and far worse for the queen and any maids who were found going public with the information, the pair claimed that a local sorceress had charmed them for her own amusement, citing jealousy of the queen's jewels. In reality, the queen was jealous of the sorceress's power and lack of need for any man. Knowing this full well, the king had her arrested and publicly executed for "treachery against the crown", but not before she had places a series of curses upon the queen and her jewels. When she announced this in her cell, the king did not believe that she could do so while not in sight of either, but he cut out her tongue so she could not cast while his wife watched the execution alongside him. The court soon discovered that the sorceress had been more powerful than they had ever known, as the effects of the curses began to show. The queen became insatiable, as well as every man who was in her immediate presence, and it increased every time she was sexually active. The king's initial punishment was to ensure that she would never turn to another for sex; if she ever had the time, she would be too sore to perform. He had her dress in sluttish, revealing clothing so he could have immediate access to her whenever he wanted. After less than a month, this included forcing her to give him oral sex while he was in the throne room, having her strip and play with herself for the viewing pleasure of the male nobles, and using her as a reward for anything he deemed worthy. With all of this, she became more and more aroused and her inhibitions dropped to nothing. Nobody noticed that there might be something that the king would constitute a problem until after he had held a peculiar competition. The objective was to see which of his knights could make her orgasm the most times in ten minutes without having intercourse with her. Seizing the opportunity to play with the queen any which way they wanted and possibly take the prize of a small pile of gold and no-holds-barred sex with her, almost all of his knights showed up, the rest preferring each others' company. By the end of night, only the official keeping score knew how many times she had come, and even those records were a bit off from when he had taken his own turn. The victor showed incredible dexterity in his hands and tongue while making her come a dozen times in the given time frame, and had promptly flipped her onto her stomach, spanked her until she was bright red, and took her as hard as he could up the ass when the final call was made. Turning her back over onto her rather sore butt, the king declared the competition officially over and had her carried to the baths to get all of the sweat off of her and the jewels. The problem came when the jewels were removed for cleaning. As soon as the first piece was removed, the lust was broken and the realization of just what they had done came pouring into every person who had had sexual contact with the queen since the time of the sorceress's death. Unfortunately for the queen, she had just put her body through hell for several months without her brain receiving most of the input, and promptly went into shock and died. Guilt and remorse swept throughout the country in an instant, leading to full coffers and confessionals for the next several years. The king himself was so tortured by his actions that he became celibate and spent the end of his reign in a monastery while his son ruled the land. Seeing what they had done to his step-mother and knowing that they were indestructible, the prince had each piece shipped to different far-off portions of existence, using every magic at his disposal to make sure the jewels would never be joined as a set again. ******************** ***************************** "So is this like a story parents tell their kids to show them the perils of greed or lust or something?" Phera came out of her narrative trance with just enough patience to throw a chair at the man who had made the inquiry. The dozen or so men in the group had gathered in the room at the inn while she had been recalling the folklore behind their new assignment, but they had enough sense to bolt when one of them tumbled off his chair, unconscious. "It is not just a story. There are records of some of the pieces apparently showing up, screwing up some people's lives, and disappearing again. One surfaced around here about six months ago, and our guy got ahold of it before a lot of damage was done. He keeps it in his vault with the rest of the stuff he does not want to display quite yet. What he wants us to do is trace it through the merchants who carried it, finding its kingdom of origin. From there he wants us to track down the rest of the pieces and get them back to him. He is pretty much paying by the piece, with bonuses for getting the entire set, getting it done quickly, not getting killed too many times, the usual." Phera set the parchment down, sat back, and waited for her formerly silent companions to comment. Eron gazed back with a slight challenge and a glint in his eye. Dru just went back to cracking his knuckles while staring blankly off into space. They were the only two in the group that she had known for an appreciable length of time, that did not run screaming every time she was in a bad mood, and that could kill her before she could blink. They respected each other enough to get the work done, but had no emotional attachment to deal with if something went wrong, and they had always seemed compatible during a battle. Dru was generally quiet, training his mind and his body for the close combat he did best, incapacitating the target while knocking him around a bit, though he did carry a crossbow just in case. Eron could get in tight or from a distance, whichever happened to be most useful at the time, and could do incredible damage doing either, often without taking a scratch. Phera herself was kept at a range, able to hit best between thirty and three hundred feet, but her morningstar was for anyone who wanted to get personal. "You just want us to sit around for a few days while you go screw with the merchant's guild? We can take care of all the other stuff." "Not a problem, Eron. I can go hit the taverns tonight and see if I cannot find who got it into town in the first place. Should be back in less than a week." With a brief nod, the three stood and Dru headed off to his room. "Where did you learn all of that from anyway? The message just came with the assignment and a picture of what he already has." "Simple enough. That was my favorite bedtime story as a child." Phera Moans Ch. 03 Alas, this will be my last submission until mid-August. I will not stop writing, but I will only have restricted Internet access and will not be able to reach the site. Until then, enjoy. ========== ========== ========== ========== ========== The group had been on the road for roughly a week. It had taken Phera two days to gather all the useful information about the jewels that was available where they had received the assignment, and one more to pick up a few leads to where the official’s piece had originated from. Part of a matching set, the headband that he had given them a detailed drawing of was made from long strands of braided platinum wire, set with hundreds of tiny rubies and diamonds in an intricate fire pattern. In an inverted teardrop on the front was a large onyx an inch long and a half-inch wide. It was this description that identified each piece of the set, modified slightly for practicality. To properly copy any of them would require great amounts of wealth and skill, but even then it would seem lacking. They were magically enhanced to shine and sparkle in the smallest amount of light, completely indestructible, and covered in invisible wards that protected both them and the wearer from almost all conceivable dangers. And, of course, they were all cursed. Each individual piece had its own curse, and if they were all worn by the same person at the same time, the curses would meld into something that could bring down the strongest of persons. This was why the step-son of the queen for whom the curse had originated had sent each piece as far in every direction as he could. What Phera had learned from the merchant who had carried the headband into the town in the first place was that this may have included sending them to different planes, making it even less likely that they would ever meet again. She had also learned that the curse placed on the headband would gradually increase the wearer’s creativity in all things sexual while draining it from everything else. Eventually they would have no ideas, no imagination, unless it directly involved sex. They would soon be useless as anything but a slut, given that most of the wearers were trophies with little intelligence or logic to begin with. The merchant who had sold it to Lord Moline, their current employer, claimed that he had legally obtained the headband from a caravan traveling from the country to the north. Given his reputation, Phera had been convinced otherwise and proceeded to draw out with her teeth the admission that he had had his resident thieves overtake the caravan and remove anything that they felt they could get a decent price for. With less effort than she had expected, she had gotten the thieves properly intoxicated and convinced them to give her a complete, if slightly exaggerated description of the caravan as they boasted of their prowess to the pretty new bar wench. It had taken a few days to find their trail, and another one to catch up with them. Their scout, Teva, had just spotted the caravan about twenty miles along the road, and they would catch up with them in a few minutes. Those among them with unnaturally good eyesight could see that the caravan had spotted them as well, being in a clear, hilly area, and had begun hiding the valuables and arming themselves. Noting that the caravan was entirely composed of men, Phera stepped out of sight behind Dru and morphed into a less than intimidating form. ********** ********** ********** ********** ********** Some of the visible tension that had appeared in the men of the caravan when they had spotted the approaching band dissipated as they stopped about fifty yards short, instead sending an emissary to meet them. A delicate female elf came forward, raising her hands to indicate a peaceful greeting. Not a few lecherous gazes followed her as she stepped into the middle of the band, admiring the fact that she was clad in a trim doeskin tunic that only dreamed of reaching the middle of her smooth thighs. More than one man wanted to twine his fingers through her golden hair, getting a good grip as he ravaged her sweet, full mouth, or her tight little pussy. At only roughly five feet tall, every man she passed close to made a point to stare down the front of her low-cut top at her perky, apple-sized breasts. Slit to her hips at the skirt and to her sternum at the front, it was obvious to all that she had come along without undergarments, and none of them were complaining. “My companions and I come in search of information. We mean you no harm, unless you should choose to harm one of ours. Now if you would, please show me to the leader of your group.” Her rich, melodic voice did little to break the men’s lust, whose ears interpreted it as a voice they would want talking dirty to them. Unfortunately for them, a large, middle aged man with a great sword strapped to his hip had stuck his head out of the back of the only covered wagon in the caravan to see what the commotion was, and announced himself as their leader before the rest of them could start making false claims. Signaling for the young woman to join him in the semi-privacy of the wagon, he cast a menacing look over his crew, hoping they would take the hint and stop acting like horny teenagers. However, that did not stop him from taking a long look down the front of her tunic as she was aided in climbing into the wagon next to him, it having been made for passengers much taller than her. The guard who boosted her nearly split a seam in his trousers when he caught a glimpse of her wet, unclad femininity, her skirt riding high as she was propelled up. The battle-scarred old warrior who met her inside fared no better as he was greeted with a longer glimpse of the view, Phera choosing to sit cross-legged on the floor across from him as he introduced himself simply as West. “So what would a lovely young woman such as yourself, as well as the company you arrived with, want with a simple group or merchants like us? You are not bandits, or you would have taken everything already. Or did you intend to stun us all with your beauty while your friends snuck off with our goods?” He grinned and gave her a roguish wink, trying to use humor to hide the uncomfortable bulge in his pants and the frequent glimpses at her exposed flesh. She was not fooled for a second, smiling sweetly at the glint in his eyes and the growing wet patch on his crotch, his cock nearly weeping with want. Reaching into her belt for the drawing of the headband, she shifted forwards onto her hands and knees, feigning the need to stretch to hand it to him. She remained in that position while he unrolled the parchment, glancing back and forth between the picture, her now mostly exposed breasts, and her soft lips that were level with his cock. He nearly moaned as she slowly licked them, giving him a playfully innocent look as he continued to stare, failing to notice that her entire backside was on display to anyone choosing to look into the open end of the wagon. “We have reason to believe this item was recently stolen from you, and we need to know where you obtained it.” “A good man of the trade never reveals his secrets, not without very good reason, and this particular piece required our full capabilities to bring it into our possession.” All the humor in his voice had been replaced with pure lust as his hands began to creep towards her. She gently swatted one away even as the other slid below the neck of her tunic to grasp her bare breast. Phera arched into his palm and moaned, discarding the ruse of resisting in innocence for one of overwhelming desire. With a look of unwanted restraint, she pushed both his hands back into his lap before sitting back and crossing her arms below her chest, ‘inadvertently’ squeezing her breasts together and up, nearly freeing her nipples from the low-cut tunic. “I am sorry, Mr. West, but we must discuss this further before I can begin compensating for the information, or else I fear we may never get around to it. You recognize the piece.” “Yes, yes... one of my men obtained it from a drunken adventurer who had thought it just a trinket. No knowledge of anything along the lines of magical properties or appraisal. Now come here and start paying for this information, it is not going to come cheap. Get those tits out and let me see them.” “Well, Mr. West, if you think there is no better option of payment.” Phera uncrossed her arms, letting her breasts fall back into place with a little jiggle before reaching into her tunic and pulling them out. Keeping them covered with her hands, she rubbed them slowly, caressing herself while never letting West see more than a peek of her pink areolae. Giving him a bashful look as she twisted her nipples between her fingers, she nonetheless smirked as he stroked himself through his pants. “Go on, Mr. West, unless you do not want me to have to earn anymore information. Did this adventurer or where he was met have a name?” “Oh, we would not want to leave you uninformed. He did not leave a name, nor did the hole of a tavern he was met in. But he did mention he had taken it from the hoard of a great white dragon who was living in a mountain about three hundred miles north of here. One cannot miss the area. It is frozen over in places it should not be and the few locals who might remain will tell you all you want. He was not boasting about killing the beast, so we figure he grabbed a few things and snuck out while the rest of his party was turned into a pack of icicles. Now that is all we know around here, so you better open that pretty little mouth of yours and start on the next payment.” Phera simply nodded as he reached over and roughly took her breast from her hand. She gasped as he began tweaking her nipple while trying unsuccessfully to unlace his trousers with his free hand. With Phera’s help they were open and falling around his ankles a few seconds later. Plopping back down onto the bench he nudged her head towards his twitching cock even while pulling slightly on her nipple, taking both breasts in his large hands as she started giving him long, slow licks from base to head. Seemingly far from immune to the sensation of his skin rasping over every inch of her breasts, she moved his hands away long enough to toss off her tunic before resuming her work on his cock. Having gotten it sufficiently moist from her tongue, she engulfed him completely with her mouth in a single motion, eliciting a deep moan and a sharp twist on her nipples, causing her to squeal around his cock. Noting that West’s mind was wrapped entirely around her, Phera began slurping loudly even as she took him halfway down her throat, massaging his testicles with her tongue and moaning louder than could be caused by the amount of pleasure he was giving her. She also noted that the noises had drawn a crowd, leading to a less than experienced hand reaching between her legs, stroking the bare, glistening pussy lips that had been the subject of many stares since she had first climbed into the wagon. Spreading her legs wide, she offered herself to her invisible assailant while continuing to suck the oblivious West. The noises increased as the hand was joined by a tongue that prodded her wet hole as he rubbed her clit. She could sense some frustration in him as he tried to unlace his pants with one hand while the other slid two long, thick fingers into her, his tongue now exploring her tiny anus. It was not until the man behind her climbed into the wagon and began thrusting haphazardly into her pussy did the old warrior even notice that he was not the only one engrossed in the hot little elf. He was not presently in a position to object, but did appreciate the reaction the other man caused in her when he took the fingers that were still wet from her pussy and shoved them deep into her ass. They could both feel their balls tightening as she squealed and squirmed while their cocks and hands held her in place as if on a spit. With a smirk towards the visitor, West pulled Phera from her current position and onto his lap, facing the new man and the rest of the crowd. He quickly thrust his cock into her sopping pussy and began teasing her clit, Phera getting only the slightest glimpse of the aroused and sorely tempted guard who had helped her into the wagon before he buried himself in her face. Taking the initiative to maintain some form of rhythm, she began bouncing on West’s cock while sucking the guard’s into her throat. Her clit, breasts, and even the pointed tips of her ears were toyed with mercilessly until she thrust down to the hilt on both of them and screamed an explosive, if somewhat fake orgasm. The corresponding vibrations from her mouth and contractions from her pussy drove the two men to spurt deep inside of her. The sheer pleasure of it, added to by the trace amounts of energy she was draining from them, sent her into another orgasm and a pleasure high that was wasted when the men pulled from her and collapsed, exhausted. ********** ********** ********** ********** ********** “If you take her without her consent, your life will be forfeit, and that would greatly complicate things around here.” Of the four members of the caravan who had concluded that they were entitled to a turn with the apparently semi-conscious woman in the back of their largest wagon, three gave pause to the rough, commanding voice behind them. The final man arrogantly finished dragging her nude body to the ground before turning around to face Dru, who had taken his cue to keep anything from possibly extending their stay. One defiant look at the reddish skin, glowing eyes, and poison-tipped horns, and the man dropped Phera and his bowels with a whimper. “As such, I recommend you hand my companion and her belongings to me.” Not quite stupid enough to protest, two of the men lifted Phera, now covered in sweat, semen, and dirt from the road, and passed her over to Dru, who tossed her over his shoulder. The third retrieved her tunic from the wagon and did the same. Dru carried her back to her companions where he reached into a pocket on her belt and removed a small cube. He muttered something only the closest could really hear and only Eron grasped, and the cube opened into a human-sized, shimmering door. Setting Phera inside, he returned the door to cube form and the cube to her pocket and packed her tunic into his saddlebag. Without so much as a glance at the caravan or the men who had planned to take further advantage of his cohort, he mounted his horse and the group nonchalantly rode off the path to the north. ********** ********** ********** ********** ********** About an hour later, Eron signaled for the group to stop, and Dru removed the cube from his bag. Repeating the command word, it opened and Phera stepped out; fully dressed, clean and well rested. She hopped onto her horse that another member of the party had been leading beside his own, and took the cube and her tunic from Dru. “So what do we have planned for this little dragon problem? Not all of us here are particularly fond of the cold.” She cocked an eyebrow at Eron, who had been on the receiving end of a telepathic link relaying all relevant information during Phera’s ‘interrogation’ of West. She and Dru hailed from different layers of hell, while Eron’s training had led him down a path of burning death, and none of them were known for taking Arctic vacations. Even the temperate regions of the Material Plane where they did most of their work tended to be rather brisk for their tastes. This was why their group varied so much beyond the three of them; most of the humanoids they took on could not handle some of the more extreme environments in existence. The white dragon, the ice dragon, was a task that would require a resilience that would tax their bodies severely. “The three of us should be fine, but the lackeys have been informed of the task, and some have already started making plans for leaving us soon. We might be able to pick up some background in the towns that the dragon is lording over, since they have probably sent quite a few of their men to try to kill it already, and they would be more used to what it can do. If not, it is just a dragon. It will be just as vulnerable to us as we are to it, and we already know what we are up against. We three could take it.” Phera was almost surprised at Eron’s comment; not because of his arrogant belief that they would not need pawns, but because he voiced it in Draconic. She wondered why he would bother casually speaking in a language that was so foreign to him, and then realized his reason was just that. Dru and her spoke it fluently, Eron just barely knew it, and there was effectively no chance that any of the others present had any clue what they were talking about. Normally they would discuss the job in common so they would not have to brief anyone on what was going to occur. He was now making it quite clear that they would be going into this alone. Phera took the hint and responded in the tongue of the dragons. “True. One well placed fireball, or in your case, Eron, just your very presence would knock it off balance for long enough to kill it. But we cannot do that immediately, and white dragons are notoriously short-tempered. We need to find out where it got the headband, and then we can kill it. With a piece like that, it more than likely has a huge hoard, and that would be more for us. Combine that with what we are getting paid and what the other idiots have left behind, this could be quite a haul.” “Right. Dru?” Nod. “Ok, we can just head out once we get supplies from the next town. It should not take more than a day or so to pull that off, unless either of you want to pick up new weapons or upgrade your armor. Phera, you get most of the shopping since you are the only one of us who will not scare the shit out of any of the shopkeepers on sight. We can pick up anything from the underground and then we can just head out to deal with the North Country’s resident icemaker.” ********** ********** ********** ********** ********** “So what are we looking at here?” Eron asked of Phera, their makeshift scout whenever necessary, as she stepped out of the snow and stone about a hundred yards from the mouth of the cavern. She started digging through her enchanted bag, being very careful not to let it sit long enough to freeze on the ground, and removed a necklace of reddish-orange beads and three vials of a blue, cold-looking liquid. “Definitely a white dragon, maybe adult, mature adult range. He was sitting around in his human form looking bored, to it was hard to tell. Possibly close to forty-five feet, but does not appear to be the brightest dragon in the clutch. May or may not get enough information out of him before he gets impatient. Drink this.” She handed both Eron and Dru one of the blue vials before taking her own and shooting it down. “It is going to tingle a bit, but you will be immune to cold effects for a few hours. It will not help you with the claws and such, but you will not freeze to death any time soon, like the rest of the people around here.” After picking up any supplies they felt they might need, they had used a crystal ball to scry ahead for the town or village closest to the dragon’s lair and teleported there to save time on the three hundred mile trip. They soon discovered that the locals had all left or died months ago; running out of food, water, and firewood with no way to travel far enough to restock. Many of the small, wooden cottages were either buried or had collapsed under the weight of several feet of snow. Scanning outward, the companions discovered that the nearest living person was nearly a hundred miles to the southwest, and he was only there under command of the local Lord to serve as a checkpoint and a warning for anyone who wished to go fight the dragon. Phera Moans Ch. 03 “So let us go have a chat with him, then.” ********** ********** ********** ********** ********** Phera paused briefly, watching Dru nimbly dodge the dragon’s spiked tail while Eron took a minor blow from its wicked claws, waiting for them both to not be blocking her shot before she released a fire-infused blast into it, leaving another decent sized scorch mark alongside a dozen others. The discussion had not gone as well as planned, or much at all in general, and now her cohorts were tumbling around the intelligent beast, trying to get in hits of their own. It had not taken more than a few seconds for the dragon to realize that the three would not be affected by its icy breath, so it switched to its more primitive weapons to defend its life; its teeth, claws, tail, and sheer size. There was no question that only one party would walk away from this and the dragon was facing a losing battle. Dru was busy hammering into it, sheathing his hands in magical flames and punching it with a speed and fury that boggled the minds of any not familiar with his fighting style. On any remotely normal medium sized creature, one hit from him would be devastating, breaking bones with such force and severity that they would often stick out the other side, often painfully fusing them with their armor. On a half-grown dragon such as this, each flurry was cracking ribs and bruising muscles and organs, not lethal but still going impressive damage. Where Dru hit, the gleaming white scales were now dented, shunted, or missing. On the other hand, where Eron hit, the scales were withered or eroded with the appearance that they belonged on a dragon twice its age and experience. His touch drained the life and energy from living beings, eventually turning them in dried husks that resembled oversized tinder. If he felt no reason to get particularly close to his target, he would hit it with a blast of sand that could flay the flesh off of an ordinary being, and was now using it to strip the dragon’s scaly armor from its hide, making it painfully vulnerable to almost any attack. Also, the first thing Eron had done when it had attacked him was raise the temperature around him to more habitable levels; roughly 50 degrees Celsius. Everything in the immediate vicinity began to thaw and the dragon was visibly weakened. Fortunately for Eron, they were standing in the middle of an empty stone room, about fifty yards in diameter and just that high; there was nothing to melt and possibly burn him. Modifying her blast, Phera aimed her next shot at the creature’s eyes, relying on the fact that it was already weakened by previous attacks. Her idea paid off, and a quick telepathic message set up a single, cohesive blow from all three while the dragon was very temporarily blind. In a flash, Eron’s burning sand, Dru’s burning hands, and her burning blast struck an already highly damaged spot on its chest. With that, it was over. There was now a Dru’s fist-sized hole where the dragon’s heart used to be. In its place was a lot of shredded, cooked goo; the combination had allowed Dru to punch it hard enough to break through the skin, ribs, and squishy bits. “So much for information. We might as well go check out the hoard, since there will not be much salvage value left in the corpse.” Walking around the broken and bleeding body and through the opening that the dragon had initially come through, they all had to snicker at the stereotypical layout of the room that could contain a small castle. There were no other ways in or out, and there was no actual treasure clearly visible. However, there were hundreds of towering columns of ice that seemed to glisten from within, each with a gruesomely mangled corpse of a warrior embedded into the front. Eron donned his magical ring that would protect him from the harmful effects of the water, and Phera started plucking beads from the necklace she had brought in. They each took a handful and started launching them towards the columns on the far side of the room. Where the beads landed, they exploded into huge balls of fire that instantly melted any ice within thirty feet without damaging anything else. Once out of beads, Phera handed Dru a vial of red liquid and chugged one herself. They both coughed up a small amount of smoke before setting their new fire breath on the closer columns. While they were doing this, Eron waded to the center of the cavern and quickly raised his body temperature and the air around him to 100 degrees Celsius, setting the rest of the ice to melting and a good portion of the water to evaporating. As soon as all the ice had melted, Eron turned the heat back down and Phera removed several dozen sponges from her bag. Again, they started casting them around, each sponge absorbing about two hundred gallons of water before turning into a small yellowish slab. All that was left in the room was what had been frozen into the columns; the dragon’s entire hoard. There were fifteen foot high piles of coins from dozens of different countries. Mixed in with them was an armory worth of weapons, shields, helmets, boots, etc., ranging from the mundane to those that nearly dazed Phera when she cast to identify the presence of magic. Gems of all sizes, chalices, vials of potions, wands, staffs, spellbooks enchanted to withstand the elements, and a diamond encrusted corset that she immediately tugged on before continuing the basic search. There was jewelry for every part of the body made from any precious stones and metals that one could dream of, and random artwork that was quickly appraised before throwing the cheaper pieces in a corner. There were even generally everyday items that had been enhanced in some way to make them expensive, such as solid platinum dice and a waterskin that would never run out of the last liquid placed in it. Having divided all of the strictly monetary treasure equally, they opened the cube’s portal and hauled it inside, each to their private, incredibly secure rooms. All other stuffs would be sorted and assessed according to purpose, properties, and price. They were presently left in large piles in what appeared to be an elaborate, if unused ballroom on the main floor of the extradimensional house that the portal actually opened up into. They then went to work on the people that had been frozen into the columns. After stripping and incinerating the bodies of the warriors, they came across one corpse that had obviously not come in search of battle. A strikingly beautiful woman in what was once noble clothing had been set carefully into place. Her clothes were torn, baring her to the world and showing just why she was there; shallow teeth and claw marks scored her skin in patterns alluding to the fact that the dragon had kidnapped her and used her for pleasure while in his human form. As they were removing what was left of her clothes and valuables, two strange features were found on her skin. Across her forehead was an indentation of braided wires where something had been forcibly removed from behind, very soon before her death. On closer inspection it was clear that she had been wearing the headband in question for a rather long time, which would have made her even more fun for the dragon. On her buttocks was a tattoo of a royal crest.