Geralt And The Leshen

Geralt was tired. The trail of the Leshen had been easy enough to follow from the camp through the marsh, but the endless swamp was trying his stamina. The elf had been under his protection, but she had been snatched in the night by this creature. Her screams must have been muffled quite securely when she was taken, because Geralt had not heard a thing. It was as if he had been forced into a magical stupor. But that couldn't be...

The tracks were clear as day. Despite the lowlit dawn, even Jaskier could have followed this trail. Along the way, Geralt kept finding signs of the elf's distress; her satin waistcoat and leather leggings had apparently been shredded with scraps discarded along the way. It was as thought the Leshen was leaving a trail deliberately.

Just as this thought flashed in Geralt's mind, he saw her there. Aienne had been strung between two elder cypress trees, her wrists lashed so that she was stretched as though she were being pulled apart. Thankfully, the trees merely supported her as her feet found purchase on a moss covered stone. Her head drooped low with her purple hair draping over her face. The Leshen had indeed handled her with no great care. Her waist coat was ripped nearly asunder, with the shreds draping loosely over her body. Her left breast was clearly exposed, and the right just barely covered. The leather leggings she had been so fond of were also destroyed, her legs clearly visible through the windows torn into the material.

As Geralt approached the clearing, his eyes were drawn to the Leshen approaching Aienne from behind. He had never seen a Leshen do anything except attack an elf who was immune to it's magic. This one was approaching Aienne with a look that suggested it was being driven mad, as though it was simultaneously being driven by an insatiable hunger, blood lust, and carnal energy. The Leshen approached her quickly from behind while Aienne was apparently still in a daze. It tore the last of the waistcoat from Aienne's body causing her to stir and scream as the Leshen prepared to rip the life from her neck.

Before the killing blow could fall on Aienne's soft skin, Geralt lept from the shadows with his silver sword flying from its scabbard. In its distraction, the Leshen was only just able to raise its head before the sword slashed across its body. The crunch of bone and tearing of earthy flesh under the sword's passing made a sound that was revolting, the Leshen's scream pierced the still, humid air like an ice pick.

However, the strike was not deep enough to be a killing blow and the Leshen quickly and violently clawed at Geralt's face in an attempt to swat him away. Geralt was ready for the counter though, and ducked beneath the attack before plunging his sword deep into where this creature's heart should be. As the blade withdrew from flesh, and the Leshen gasped in a stark realization of its mortality, Geralt's blade parted the Leshen's horned head from its shoulders.

Finally realizing that she was safe, Aienne was able to summon the strength to make words. "Help me," she said, "untie me and get me down from here. Please, Geralt!"

Geralt slowly turned his gaze from the now collapsed creature. Its death throws slowly easing as the creature began the process of returning to the swamp from which it was made. As her face became more visible through the strands of hair, Geralt could swear that there was amusement hiding behind the surface of terror. It was almost as if Aienne was enjoying the excitement of being taken, being bound, and having to be saved by the application of violence in a way that very few could deliver.

As Geralt approached, she continued her pleas. "Thank you, please untie me. That horrible creature nearly devoured me."

Geralt sheathed his sword and walked to her. Not fast, not slow, but purposefully. He gazed around them in anticipation of another trap but his eyes, ears, and nose gave no indications of impending danger. As he reached her his hand went to unbind the ties on her wrist. But the ties were wrong...

There was no way the Leshen could tie such an intricate knot. Nor was there any way it would have such fine silk rope on hand. Looking down, Her ankles were bound in a similar fashion but only to each other. And despite the ravages done to her clothing, her boots were both intact and covered in branches and mud so that her feet looked like those of the fallen quarry that lay on the ground below.

In a flash, Geralt's hand flew from Aienne's wrist to her neck. He grabbed and squeezed as he pulled her face towards his. As he pulled, her arms remained lashed to the trees and her back arched as her head was pulled forward. "How dare you trick me and pit the inhabitants of this forest against me. That is a crime against nature that should be abhorrent to your race. I've killed many who I liked more for doing far less. Tell me why I should let you live, princess?"

As Aienne struggled against Geralt's iron grip, the veins in her neck and forehead pressed out from beneath her skin. Beads of sweat collected on her soft, pale skin as her body began to quiver. The shards of clothing that clung to her body swayed tantalizingly in the tension. and as she collected her breath to answer the smile grew from behind her eyes and down to her mischievous mouth.

"I told you when we left Dol Blathanna, I was going to make your life hell. I have watched you for years, Witcher. You slay foul beasts with artful efficiency, yet you take no joy from it. An artist such as yourself should take pride, and embrace the primal power that makes you such a weapon. Let's take the anger I see burning behind your eyes and turn it into something useful, shall we?"

Suddenly a flash of light burst from Aienne's eyes as her grimming smirk grew into a malevolent smile. Geralt's hand remained on her neck, but his look of shock told Aienne that he was under his control. She could see the struggle in his eyes, but knew that he was under her spell. As his hand fell away, she pulled herself up by the ropes that bound her wrists and wrapped her thighs around his neck and pulled him into her.

"You definitely enjoy a good fight. Have fun fighting yourself, Geralt! Now take off what's left of these leggings and taste me."

Geralt's face struggled to contain his shock as his hands found the waistline of her nearly shredded leggings. With unnatural force, they were soon ripping under his grasp. Geralt pulled the remaining shreds off from the side and had to forcefully pry the last of it between his chin and her womanhood. His hands found the tops of her thighs as his mouth found its prize. His lips parted hers and his tongue entered her with a violence she would not have thought possible from just a tongue. His breaths whistled through her pubic hair because his nose was pressed firmly into her clit.

Aienne's maniacal smile remained, occasionally contorting with pleasure. Her shoulders remained stretched by the bindings but the adrenaline she felt completely masked any pain. She used the leverage of her thighs on Geralt's broad, strong shoulders to hold herself comfortably, and thrust her hips into his face. The feeling of getting fucked by his tongue while using her magic to suppress his autonomy was exhilerating. She screamed in pleasure as she ground herself into his face, and she could feel the wetness dripping down her ass and onto Geralt's chin and chest.

As Aienne's body quaked from a second consecutive orgasm she locked eyes with Geralt. Although half of his face was concealed by her sex, she knew something was wrong. His eyes... they were smiling. His tongue had stopped its forceful curl inside of her and was now playfully doing figure eights across her opening and clit. Geralt could not be feeling playful though, not under her control.

Suddenly, Geralt began to laugh. The sound was low and muffled by her still-squeezing thighs, but it was unmistakable. Then his hands parted her thighs from his neck and he looked up at her, his grin accentuated by the glistening of her juices on his face. "You are as foolish as you are impulsive, princess. Did you honestly think your little magic tricks would work on me? I have to admit it's been fun watching you squirm up there like you're in charge. You should know, you are the plaything here. Not I. I have tried being patient and respectful of you despite your insolence. But, if you insist on being fucked then by all means you will be fucked."

In a flash Geralt dropped his shoulder, twisted his body, and freed his head from Aienne's muscular, long thighs. Just as quickly, he had moved behind her and suddenly she was back on his shoulders. This time though, it was the tops of her things up there as he lifted her up and rearward. Her wrists were still bound, causing her to look down at the ground as he lifted her flat. Her breasts were not even covered at this point, with strips of fabric all that was left of her blouse. She felt the cool air on her nipples as her thighs pulled his shoulders towards her in an attempt to steady herself. Her arms stretched wide as she hung suspended and exposed.

Geralt's hands spread her cheeks apart with an iron grip. Without warning, Aienne felt the strength of his tongue again. Only this time, he was penetrating her ass from behind. She had never felt anything enter her that way before. It felt alien, but she couldn't resist trying to open herself for him. He was clearly hungry, clearly in charge, and had her utterly at his mercy. his right hand moved to her breast and consumed it in a firm grasp, and his left hand went to her middle to help hold her at the height he preferred. His thumb pressed against her clit as he did so.

Aienne could not believe the sensations she was feeling. She felt consumed in a way she'd never dreamed and she couldn't tell if she had just had one continuous orgasm or a series of them. All she knew for sure was that she had completely lost track of time and space, and that her little game had worked perfectly. Finally she would get to feel Geralt take her, get to feel herself stretched and filled by this beautiful specimen of humanity.

As Aienne settled into her ecstasy, Geralt lifted her off of his shoulders by the hips. The moment she felt her feet touch the forest floor, he pulled her back to him and he slid inside of her. For a moment he simply remained still, pressed inside her as deeply as she'd ever felt anyone or anything. His cock was harder than she'd ever felt a man, and it felt as though he could lift her again using only that as leverage. As the initial sensation of him being inside her gave way to a quivering release of sexual tension, she felt her hair being gripped by his massive have with the same iron grip that had held her neck earlier. He pulled her head back and her back arched yet again. Her breasts now completely bare against the cool air, and her arms still outstretched, he took her from behind. Slowly, but with thrusts that made her legs shake. As his rhythm gained pace she felt another wave coming along and she screamed again into the forest.

At the peak of her orgasm, she felt him tense up even more if that was even possible, and then felt the unmistakable sensation of his cock pulsing and shooting his essence into her. As she quivered from her own release, she felt him pulse and twitch as the warm liquid entered her body, and eventually began to drip down her legs. His cock remained inside her for what seemed like minutes as his grip slowly allowed her head to move forward.

He then eased himself out of her and moved in for an embrace from behind. His hand went from her hip, up her body, and between her breasts to her neck. "Is that what you were after, princess?"

"Yes," she whispered and his hand gripped tighter...

"Have you learned to not tempt those whose power you underestimate?"

"No," she replied, with a devilish grin that Geralt could not see but could certainly hear...

"I thought as much."

He walked in front of her, naked and glistening from sweat and body fluids. He picked up a knife from his belt that lay on the ground, and he cut the ties that bound her.

"I'm quite impressed with the skill you had in tying yourself so tightly. Perhaps my lessons in wilderness survival weren't completely lost on you," he said as he gathered his belongings and began to dress himself.

"Oh, you'll find that I can be an excellent student," she said as she caressed her wrists and stretched her shoulders. "But you'll also soon find that in terms of restraining someone, I'm already something of an expert. I look forward to showing you, and for all you know I'll probably teach you a thing or two as well..."

And with that she began walking back towards their camp with neither a care in the world, nor a scrap of cloth on her body.