Warloc

John has a quest from his Mistress and now a quest for himself as well. His nature demands he uses preys on the women he is closest to. Now, for the first time, he has the opportunity to give something back.

John's dreams took the shape from warmth and wetness. He saw the barmaid Magda's tresses tickling his stomach as her head licked up and down her hardness. He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensations and when next he opened them he saw Irena looked up at him. Her worshipful eyes stayed with him as she slipped her lips over his crown and then tongue his slit. He blinked and she was gone, replaced by the luxurious red waves of Little Red.

John stiffened. Little Red was dead... yet here she was. And she felt real too, although it couldn't be. She was gone, her body given to the sea. All that remained was the shining spark of her soul that John kept buried away inside himself.

Little Red smiled around her mouthful and slid further down his length until he met that back of her throat. She swallowed him whole, taking him into her tight throat and moaning. Her moan tickled his head and sent vibrations straight to his core.

John gasped and snapped his eyes open as he tried to sit up. He made it to his elbows and saw a shape under the blanket in front of him. A shape that said his dreams hadn't been dreams after all... or had they? In spite of his control, seeing Little Red and feeling himself stretching her throat had him ready to erupt.

John pushed the blanket aside and saw that it was Little Red after all, it was Brie. Brie, who had already proven she could do the things she was doing. She smiled around him and pulled off long enough to suck in breath through her nose. Before John could say anything, she swallowed him again and took him as deep as her position allowed. John saw her throat bulge and then she swallowed around him again, managing another half inch.

John grunted and shook his head. Brie grabbed his base and stroked, lifting herself so only his head was in her skilled mouth.

"No," John gasped. He wanted to grant her wish. He wanted to fill her belly again, but he couldn't. His power didn't work that way. His body didn't work that way... not anymore. He felt the lust raging through her but this wasn't how it worked for him. He had to get her off first. She had to climax and he had to sip from her soul before his release would be unlocked.

But if he dared... would she survive? He'd never bedded the same woman so close together. He'd exhausted her last night and when they'd finally gone back to her bed and fallen asleep, she'd done so almost before the sheets had been pulled up.

John focused on her, distracting himself from the wonderful agony she was building in his loins. Her passion was undeniable. This was Brie feeling free and giving in to what she wanted, not what he wanted. She wanted to pleasure him. To taste him again and see if she'd imagined it the first time.

John stared at her, stunned. He knew without doubt that if he spent himself in her mouth, she would orgasm with him. She'd built herself up so much that would put her over the edge. Not only put her over, but it was what she yearned for.

His groan was a noise she took to mean she was doing a good job. She wasn't wrong.

"You," John breathed. "I can't... not unless you..."

She pulled herself off of him, a slow and sensual process that left his eyes unfocused. She sucked and licked and kissed the tip of his cock when it finally emerged from her lips. "I can't ride you, my lord, I'm too sore. Please... I want to do this for you. Let me taste you again."

John swallowed and nodded. "One on condition."

She wiggled her tongue into his slit, trying to worm her way into him unsuccessfully. "I've never had a man turn me down for that before."

"Not... turning you down," he gasped while she sucked and licked him. "Negotiating."

She smiled and rubbed him across her lips as she spoke, "Now who's driving a hard bargain."

"I'm hard, but you're driving," John pointed out.

She giggled and slid down his length to pull his balls into her mouth and give each of them a lavish suck and tickle. When she finished she licked back up his length and said, "I could do this all day, my lord... but next time, remind me to shave you. So much better, I promise."

John gasped and found a moment of clarity at her unexpected suggestion. "We'll see. First, let me taste you. No cock, just my tongue."

She grinned. "Bargained well and done," she said.

John expected her to pull away from him and roll onto her back so he could pleasure her. Instead she rose to her hands and knees and moved under the blanket. In half a moment he understood she was twisting herself about, but he was baffled as to what she would doing.

Then her leg lifted and passed over his face. Her knee settled down and her soft curls, damp with her arousal, dropped down toward him. John grinned. It was such an obvious and simple solution, why had no one ever figured this out before! Wait, clearly this wasn't new -- Brie knew to do it. Instead he, champion of one of the most lustful creatures in all of creation, was being educated once again.

Her lips met his and he parted both with his tongue to taste her. Her juices ran down his tongue and slid into his mouth, sharing not only her flavor, but also proof of how excited she was. She drank from while she shuddered and moaned around his cock. Her noises and movements threatened John's concentration. They each strove to outperform the other, yet each ended up awash in the pleasure.

Maybe that's why John had never heard of it? Making love was like magic, in a way. The theory of actions and movements like this was sound and plausible. The practice, on the other hand, exposed flaws and unexpected conditions. Still, it was a deliciously addicting position to be in. John wrapped his hands around her thighs and held her tight to him as he licked up her slit— or down since she was inverted— and captured her clitoris between his lips.

Brie squealed around him. His cock muffled her, barely, and John knew that he'd won the battle. He sucked on her throbbing bud and circled her with his tongue before gentle grazing it with his teeth. She bucked on him but his hands held her fast. His tongue flittered across the exploding skin like the wings of a butterfly, driving her easily over the edge and into the madness of release.

Her pussy dribbled on him, wetting his face as she climaxed on top of him. He ignored the unexpected shower and continued to worship at her alter of flesh. With her release he drew a fresh surge of power from her. Instead of the deluge of energy the night before, when he'd been buried within her cunt, this was a gentle flow.

Brie stilled and panted through her nose. She refused to relinquish his cock from her mouth. John relaxed his grip on her and kissed her nethers, licking and nibbling around her lips to bring her down and show her how much he cherished her.

When Brie had finally regained her sense and her breath, she growled and lifted her hips up and out of his reach. She left them there, her tasty parts within view but untouchable. John watched, amused and wondering what she was up to now.

He heard her take in a deep breath and felt her chest swell against him. Before he could make sense of it, she lowered her head and swallowed him again. He throbbed in her throat and heard himself groan. She swallowed again and then again. She kept swallowed, worked her way down his cock and squeezing John's cock like... like nothing he could imagine. Her throat was so tight he couldn't move, but still she managed to stuff more of him into her. Her chin nuzzled into his hair, shocking him with the realization that she'd taken all of him. Or as close to all of him as was likely to happen.

John grunted, overwhelmed by what Brie had done... and this was entirely Brie's doing. He'd not influenced her or used his magic to boost her libido since early last night, and even that had been a gentle nudge that had long worn off. He couldn't hold back any longer... well, he could, thanks to the magic, but he suspected if he didn't grant himself release something in his mind might break.

His hips jerked up, forcing a tiny bit more into her. Brie took it and somehow managed to moan around him. If he hadn't been lost that made it certainty. She felt him tremble and throb and then swell as his seed filled his vessels and rushed through his cock.

Brie was grabbing his balls in one hand and the base of his cock with the other while his first spurt sprayed straight to her belly. She pulled him out, milking him with her lips and throat as she swallowed in time with each subsequent pulse of his cum. After the first three she had him in her mouth again and there she suckled at him, draining his essence and tasting it fully as it gathered and grew in her mouth.

Finally spent, she carefully pulled her lips from his cock and lifted her head. She weighed the pool of viscous fluid in her mouth and wiggled her tongue in it, marveling at how truly amazing John was. She shuddered and swallowed, then shuddered again as his cum slid down her throat and joined with the rest in her belly. She was beyond shaking her head in wonder, she was convinced. She lowered her head to suck at his weeping cock and stroked from his arse to his tip to squeeze out the final drops.

Brie rolled off of him but couldn't bring herself to part with his cock without a final kiss. She caressed his slowly fading manhood and looked up at him. She grinned and shook her head. "You... I thought it might be a dream."

John laughed. "And here I thought you were a dream this morning."

Her grin broadened. She groaned and said, "Saints above and below, John... what I wouldn't give to be in your bed every night!"

"At least one of us wouldn't survive," John said.

Her grin didn't fade but it did take on a wicked gleam. "For you I'd throw it all away," she said. "Just ask and I'm yours... I'll sell my tavern and travel with you. I'll be your consort. Your wife... your whore. Anything you want of me, so long as you feed me that giant snake every chance you get."

John pulled her up to him and held her tight. She nuzzled against him and closed her eyes. The power of his seed in her belly was all that kept her going right now. She needed sleep. A day's worth, at least. In moments her body relaxed and her breathing deepened. John kissed her on the forehead and eased her onto the bed. He stared at her and felt a pinch deep inside. He'd be a lucky man indeed to have a woman such as Brie at his side.

But that wasn't his path. He couldn't give her what she needed, and she'd proven she was very needy. His curse, it seemed, was that the women who truly seemed the most perfect for him and his appetites were not the women he could spend time with. Not for long, at least. Brie would die, and then she'd join Little Red as a treasured soul that he kept safe forever.

John's eyes snapped open. He did still have Little Red... why didn't Mistress demand her soul as well at the bandits? He wasn't hiding or hoarding her, he was just keeping her safe.... He was... he was protecting her, not using her. John's demonic side had tortured the bandits, extracting power from them. Little Red was left alone to flourish as best she could. He gained no power from her, so there was no reason for Mistress to know of her or to covert her.

John slipped out of bed and strapped on his dagger and dressed in his robe and sandals. He summoned his spear last and, with a longing glance at Brie, he slipped from her room and down the hallway. It was early still but for what he had in mind, that was perfect.

John found Artesia already awake in the common room. She was helping Brie's young stablehand carry out the last barrel of wine from the cellar. John hurried to get the door for them and held it as they managed the large and heavy barrel and through to where his wagon had been pulled up in front of the stable.

Once the barrel was loaded and the back fence latched in place John turned to Artesia. "Is everything ready?"

"Yes, my lord," she said. She pulled her hair off her sweaty brow and added, "My lord, I forgot with everything last night... I have your money."

John took the small sack from her and felt the weight and heard the muffled jingle of metal. He opened it and peered inside. There were a handful of gold coins and he guessed close to a score of silver. "Have you taken your wage out?"

"I don't know what my wage is, my lord."

John nodded. "I suppose that makes two of us," he admitted. He pulled out a gold coin and handed it her, earning a wide eyed look from her. "A week's wage," he said. "Paid forward. Your weapons, equipment, and life are payment up to now."

She nodded after a moment, "I suppose that's fair."

"Good. Let's be off then... have you see Zynga?"

Artesia jerked her head toward the wagon. "She's been waiting on the wagon all morning. Showed up as soon as I had Germain in his harness and pulled the wagon about. "

"Germain?"

"Your horse, my lord."

"Ah... Germain. Very well."

John climbed up into the wagon and slid down the bench to sit next to Zynga. "Everything all right?" he asked her.

She grinned. "I've been supervising."

"So I hear."

"Let's be off."

"If only it were that simple," Zynga said.

Artesia climbed aboard the wagon while John frowned. He was about to ask Zynga what she meant when he spied a group of four soldiers walking down the road toward them. The soldiers spotted them and pointed before heading their way.

"Ho there! Fine morning to you, what news?" the lead footman asked.

John clamped his mouth shut and glanced at Artesia and Zynga before turning back to the soldier. His pause had allowed the man to close within a dozen feet of the wagon. Two of the other soldiers moved to take positions in front of the horse. "It's a bit early for my liking," John tried. "Too early to be fine, I think. Still, there's no rain and that's good."

"True enough," the soldier said. "So, what news?"

"Sorry, I don't have any news."

Artesia groaned.

Zynga giggled under her breath.

"Are you merchant or just a driver?" he asked.

"Merchant," John said. He turned and gestured behind him. "I took a fancy to Khalas Red. I think it will fetch a fine price in the east."

The soldier walked closer and peered into the wagon. "That's a lot of wine," he said.

"I have very thirsty customers."

The soldier chuckled and looked at the Hidden Vein. "You stayed here last night, did you?"

"I did, one of the finest taverns I've been in and several weeks."

Another one of the soldiers walked around the horses and kept pace with the first man. He chose that moment to speak up, "You there, what's your name?"

Artesia turned to him. "Artesia."

"That's not her," one of the guards in front of the horses said.

"Pardon?" John asked. "This is Artesia, she's my man-at-arms. Er, woman-at-arms, I suppose."

Two of the guards snorted and the man talking to Artesia chuckled. John hid his thoughts behind a blank mask. A man that underestimated a woman's abilities was a man destined to a disappointing, and perhaps short, life.

"You're from up north? Carvin or Drift?" the lead footman asked.

"No, I'm from the south, actually. My first reliable memories are of Widow's Edge."

"Oy! That's half the world away!" the footman said. "Near to Gundar. I've a mate with kin down there."

John nodded. He knew better than to say too much and trap himself. Instead he asked, "Why are you asking about my companion... are you looking for a woman?"

"Aye, a half-elf that's been kidnapped. The King's niece."

"Niece?"

The footman looked around and whispered loudly, "That's what they call her."

"A half elven niece... I see," John said. "Well, I haven't seen her."

The soldier nodded and made his way around to the back of the wagon, tapping on barrels as he went. The barrel in the middle of the back row had an echo to the man's thunk. His eyes narrowed and he looked at John. "Oy, this barrel's empty."

John frowned. "No it's not," John said. "That was the last one they brought I watched them load it myself."

"Come see," the footman ordered.

John and Artesia climbed down. She followed him around the wagon, her hands ready but staying well clear of her sword or dagger.

John spotted it and snapped his fingers. "Ah, yes. That's one they had tapped already. She said it went sour but I could barely tell the difference. A touch off, that's all. For that one I have just the place to sell it to. They won't know the difference."

The soldier didn't look convinced. His companion followed behind Artesia with his hand casually resting on his sword.

"Look— Artesia, open this up— it's still got a tap on it," John said as Artesia unlatched the fence and set it on the ground. She pulled out a pair of cups and moved to the tap. He opened it and red wine flowed into the cup. He offered it to the soldier.

The footman eyed the wine and sniffed it before taking a drink. He swallowed and then grunted. "It's off all right," he said and handed the cup to the other guardsman.

The man took a drink and shrugged. "Don't see so bad to me."

"You'd drink a whore's piss if she said it would get you drunk," the lead soldier scoffed.

The other guard shrugged. "If she's right, does it matter?"

John chuckled with them. "What say I fill your skins? Helping to find a damsel that's been stolen is as noble a quest as I can think of. You shouldn't go thirsty while you're doing it."

The guards looked to each other and the second nodded eagerly. "All right," said the leader. "It is thirsty work. Blessings of the Saints be on you."

"You as well," John said as he gathered their water skins as soon as they could dump the water and filled them full of wine. The other two soldiers walked over when called and soon had their own good cheer for the day.

Artesia set the fence in place and they made their way back to the bench. "Safe travels to you," the soldier big them farewell.

"And you... I wonder, if there any paper or mark you can give me? Something should I run into others to let them know you've cleared us? I'm eager to help you and I wish the safe and quick returned of the King's niece... but I also can't have my profits drank up."

The footman chuckled. "Tell them Kaspian gave you the Queen's writ of passage."

"But there's not papers? If it's a writ of passage..."

Caspian stepped forward and lowered his voice. "Right, that's what makes it work. If someone tries to smuggle her out and shows papers proclaiming the Queen's writ, we know we've got them."

John blinked and then chuckled. "Truly astonishing."

"Innit?" the guard grinned and backed away. "Safe travels, friend. Good luck with your wine."

"And you with yours," John said while motioning Artesia to go.

She cracked the reins and Germaine pulled the wagon forward. With virtually no traffic they were only stopped once by another group of guardsmen before reaching the gate. The code phrase, such as it was, saw them safely through both the guards and the gate. The road was filling with farmers and merchants coming to bring or sell their goods as the sun broke over the eastern horizon.

"Zynga, check on her," John said after they'd driven half an hour from the gates of Khalas.

"I bet she's pickled," Zynga said. She climbed up and over the back of the bench seat and then crawled across the tops of the barrels. When she reached the rearmost barrel she grabbed the loose stopper on the top and pulled it out. She stared down into the darkness and then tapped the top of the barrel. She replaced the stopper and crawled back up.

"Well?" John asked.

"Well what?"

John stared at her for a long moment, shocked by her behavior. "Is she all right?" he asked.