Youre Caught

You wake up and greedily suck the air into your lungs, to find it oppressive and humid. Where are you? You flex your fingers and toes, and realize you're bound and spread. The rope feels like vine and chafe your skin as you try to escape, and the hard bedding underneath touches your nude back like the unmistakable waxiness of large jungle leaves. Somewhere behind you a fire hums and crackles. You feel your head pounding, and only now realize your vision is lost. Have you truly woken up or have you traversed to the other side? Could it be a vivid dream that is producing the throbbing at the back of your head and the binds that punish your movement?

You search for answers in your memories. A steep hill, wet ground, a beach. You were watching someone. A vastness of resplendent azure is conjured and the lower horizon forms. In that ocean, you saw moving shapes. You just couldn't help yourself, you knew the dangers of this village and its inhabitants. All your life the fear of trolls has been put into you. They will eat you alive, they told you. Trolls showed no mercy, not to any man or woman daring to cross their settled borders. Yet there you were, eyes wide and glistening as the females of the village bathed in the tropical waters. Compared to you, they were giants, some of them eight feet where they stood. Their bodies shimmered like cut sapphires as they dipped themselves into the sea, reemerging and blinding you with their brilliance. Your hand went to your wet sex, no matter where you touched the spur of the image before you sent violent shocks through you. Their large breasts crowning a flat, muscled stomach made you desire. You imagined yourself between their legs, pushing matted pubic hair away with your tongue as you dove in, making the women hiss obscenities in Zandali. They would find you and hold you down, but your hands still found the blood-red mane of the one sucking at your engorged, hot flesh. But every fantasy needs an end, and yours stopped with blackness.

There is a gap that no remembering could fill. A voice calls to you from the side, more Zandali, but drawling, teasing you as though the words nip at your earlobe. It belongs to a woman, low and throaty, you feel a tingle prick your skin. She continues, slow and rhythmic, you begin to realize it's an incantation. It's directed at you, you're blind but you can feel her eyes and her words aimed straight for your naked body. Her eyes are on you, burning and lustful as your senses betray you, all the arousal you had felt alone comes barreling back in quick bursts to your heartbeat. The tingle turns to an itch, your nipples ache atop your breasts and heat in your loins translates to wetness. Her words command you, you have no choice but to surrender. She wants you turned on, she wants to dangle you over the precipice until you break.

You feel her presence now, and you wince as calloused fingers undo the binding that captures your vision. The blur washes away and you see her on her knees, hovering above your head. Perhaps it's the perspective, but the troll before you is undeniably imposing yet overwhelmingly erotic. You remember her from the beach, the tallest of the three with a body forged in battle. She looks at you with hunger, hazy eyes and mouth agape; you see her breasts that even both your hands wouldn't be able to contain. Her skin reflects and kisses the light, and further down you see her sopping pussy. The ritual must've had an effect on her as well, as a single drop of her essence falls from her puffy lips onto the hollow of your throat and sizzles on your skin. She gyrates her hips to mesmerize, sex now above your face as a few more drops fall. She savors the tension of barely brushing her swollen center with those fingers, instead raking her thighs as she groans with insatiable longing.

"Human..." Her voice thick with lust calls to you in low common. "So ya like tah watch..." She lowers herself, the heat from her body plasters your face and spices the air. You wonder who wants it more. "You be all mine..." She blocks your airways as she comes down on you, pushing your head back into the thin bedding and using you for her pleasure with calculated, slow rolls of her lower body. Your mouth fills with her juice, abundant and thick as it graces your throat. You want to stick out your tongue to lick, or to take her clit into your mouth and suck, but you're just a toy. You have no say, you hold your breath and drink down what she offers, you're addicted to it. A burning in your lungs takes your notice, but you can't breathe anymore. She pushes your head further towards her, you can feel your nose prod at her clitoral hood each time a shudder takes her over. Why is it that you don't care—you live to give her those shudders, you live to hear her accented common intermingled with unrestrained, guttural moans and howls. Your tongue pierces her, and she comes, dousing you again and again but you curse yourself for letting it spill onto your face. When she rises, you're once again free to breathe, rattling and desperate you take you fill while she looks on, drowsy with bliss and dripping into your open mouth.

"Mmm..." she drones seductively and caresses your cheek. "Good ting ya survive. But dis not ovah." She slides lower, and you raise you head to watch her work her way down your body, making you jump and yelp as teeth and tusk mark you. You're certain you can see blood pooling in a few of them before the troll lowers her head to lick you clean, blessing you with another nip in the process. She straddles your thigh, and you feel her burning pussy grind on you, infuriatingly arousing, you're at a loss for words or actions. You can only gasp as each pulse passively pleasures you, the tension so great and the essence you swallowed dissolving into pure lust concentrated in your loins. You're about to go mad, thrashing against your bonds and begging her in fast Common to touch you, to alleviate the fire that grows with each beat of your heart. Her eyes are on your sex, and you can see she's tempted, wetting her lips and sighing with a loud, mellifluous tone.

You watch her with eyes that bore into her skin, you can tell she feels watched and it excites her. She rides your thigh with total abandon as she massages her breasts for you, moaning a show only you can hear. Her sweat trickles down and dots your skin as she cums against you, her muscles hopelessly contract and spasm and her voice reaches a higher pitch, crying out breathlessly the only Zandali word you know, "Human." Now she looks to you, pleased but still your mistress, your predator.

"Mebbe I keep ya..." She rakes your stomach and you arch against it, too horny to care what happens to you. "Now I give ya release, how ya want it?" Her finger dances around your labia and you try to catch it, but its touch is fleeting, frustrating you to the point of hoarse growling. "Lick me! Fuck me with your tongue!" The words spell themselves without you. You can see her process what you said, and smiling, she rises from you. She picks up the black velvet and once again your vision is lost. Deprived of one sense, you can't help but focus on the pleasure as it amplifies, surging, roaring inside you, keeping you on the brink of madness and orgasm.

Finally, she's held you captive enough. A tongue much longer and stronger than your own slips between your folds and coils around your clit. There is no time to react, you buck frantically but she holds you in place, torturing you with wet lashes to your inflamed flesh. Your orgasms come and go, or is it one long rapture that will eventually be the end of you? Your head swims, your body in no longer your own; molten down by the troll's smoldering mouth and cast as white-hot lust. There is no longer a rise or a decline, just a stream of euphoria as she drains you continually, her tongue, and now finger, unceasing.

A peak in the distance towers ahead of you, you climb; body on fire and sex beaten and sore. One last orgasm hits you as the troll's invading finger pushes your g-spot upward, forcing you to give up everything you held inside. The pleasure is unlike anything, you're lost in it, colors and lights explode in the darkness. Every nerve screams and you feel the constant pounding driving you deeper into madness, but you realize you don't mind losing yourself like this. It's likely one of the better ways to go.

But you don't die, you slowly come back down and light reaches your retinas again. The troll looks at you, perhaps in amazement or perhaps with yearning. But your body won't move, in that sweet glow of your delirious orgasm, you're limp and vulnerable, but it's okay. The troll next to you speaks heaving words in her native tongue, you catch none of them but as she speaks she unties your limbs and holds you against her. The mighty troll heart beats a soothing rhythm and her strong arms protect you lovingly; the last thing you feel before your heavy eyelids can no longer be held open, and you fall asleep in her embrace. She whispers to you from the other side, "Beautiful."