Cold Cobblestones

Copyright Notice:

All characters and individual material are © Daniel Riverton 2011. All rights Reserved.

World of Warcraft, Warcraft and Blizzard Entertainment are trademarks or registered trademarks of Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. in the U.S. and/or other countries. ©2004 Blizzard Entertainment, Inc. All rights reserved.

This is fan fiction only. This work may not be reproduced for commercial, marketing, republishing or plagiatory purposes. The work is sexual in nature and may not be to everyone's individual taste. Please do not continue reading unless 18 years or older.

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Cold Cobblestones

The hail whipped the Stormwind cobblestones with sharp 'clacks', striking against the stone and shattering like glass. Among the canals, the sometimes thumb-sized projectiles struck the water with a resounding splash, a symphony declaring the early arrival of late autumn, which soon would bring winter to the land.

Stormwind citizens were used to the hail season. When the first small, icy orb had struck the pavement next to a boy of five, parents had snatched their offspring, peddlers had quickly gathered their wares and the city guards had passed the warning along the streets quickly.

Within the hour, the city had seemed more like the ghost town of Caer Darrow than a bustling metropolis often thought one of the greatest achievements of humankind. Only the occasional guard was still visible for those running from corner to corner, sheltering beneath sloping, red-tiled roofs.

Few stayed outside long however. While the small spots offered shelter and the hail in itself was far from deadly, it was not uncommon for the by passers daring the streets to be bruised or even struck unconscious from an unfortunate orb to the head.

A guard moving among the streets with his solid, thick shield raised, deflecting the hail in a cacophony of cracking ice against metal, didn't even notice the tall, robed man walking next to the slightly smaller woman. The two traveler's ascended the Lion's stairs, leading to the bridge to old town.

At least, that was what the pair looked like to the unknowing eye.

Magoren Hellsbreath did not even flinch when a small hailstone struck his unshielded brow, feeling the blow as though a brush from a particularly insistent feather. He had neglected to pull up the hood of his crimson cloak, a garment intricately woven with abyssal patterns in gold thread and weather like this -- or of any kind -- did him little harm in any case. His demonic magic saw to that.

He had often heard others call him a frightening sight. Despite being only a few years past young adult, most of the brown hair on his scalp was gone, as though cruelly burned off to leave only a bald pate as devilishly dark as the rest of his hue. He was broadly built to the degree that some thought him a tavern tough, until they got a look at the rest of him.

Having been told that his eyes, near scarlet as a result of his allegiances were enough to send children gibbering in terror, he had quickly adopted a very confident stance. His powerful hand, fingers veined and slightly gnarled, were clasped around the base of a twisted staff.

His companion, sauntering along at his side, was in many ways worse however.

Her form was mostly shielded by a cloak not completely dissimilar from his own. It hid what he knew was a perfectly heart-shaped face with pouting lips, a small nose and liquid, black eyes. Her otherworldliness began with the horns sprouting from her forehead and ended with the tail jutting from above her round buttocks. A black whip of the unknown, leather-like material hung from a belt set in a garment meant to inflame rather than cover what lay beneath and betwixt.

Saszira had been his plaything, companion and more for a good ten years now. Her heart was blacker than pitch, her soul so far beyond corrupted one could not be certain it existed and she was worse than evil. A demonic succubus, she was delighted by every one of her master's cruel antics.

And she had been given reason to be delighted often.

"Masterrrr" The word was drawn out, exhaled rather than spoken as a hailstone struck the creature -- that was how he thought of her, never a woman -- square in the face, momentarily leaving an egg-sized bruise below her lips. By the time she gazed up at him, the bruise had faded.

He didn't reply.

"We have been here to-ah!... long" Another lump of frozen water had struck her, on the shoulder this time.

Again he neglected to reply. Some thought succubi could read minds - this was of course ludicrous. They could read desire, that much was true. He did not want to give her the satisfaction of knowing it bothered him as well, stuck in Stormwind for too long without any possibility of leaving. For the moment, at least.

Civilization did not sit well with him. There was too much order, and too many forces fighting to maintain that order. Chaos now....

Chaos was...fun. Chaos was life.

"Don't ignore me!" She put a hand, fingernails nearly claws, to his side.

A raw, threatening note in the feminine voice caught his attention, sending a thrill along his nerves. He spun with a quickness that belied his tough, shouldered exterior and struck her with a clenched fist.

She flew, staggering back into the brick wall, several icy stones immediately shattering against her brow. A trickle of crimson trickled from the corner of her mouth and a grin blossomed on her lips.

"Always so violent, my master" Saszira grinned, clearly pleased.

The creature actually squeaked when he pushed against her, running his calloused hand up her flat belly, only partially covered by the scandalous garment. He felt her breath, hot as from a forge, on his neck. The scent that was all...her.

Sharp and sulfurous mingled with a distinct smell of what was female about her. The smell of raw, unrestrained lust and sex always exuding from her like fine perfume. Odor designed to drive mortals mad. That was what it did to ordinary men.

It merely drove him crazy, made him unbearably lustful.

Yet a firm hand with your servants was necessary, regardless of what they sparked in you, he thought. He grabbed her black swell of hair in a firm grip, yanking her head up to kiss her. Her eyes betrayed a mix of emotions. Lust, anger, hate, fear, respect, love, and anticipation...it was too much. She was chaos made flesh, and his own emotions towards here were as mixed as the ones he felt from her.

He kissed her violently.

A pleased, muffled coo came from her and she molded into him, her full and barely restrained breasts pressing against his chest. She rode his leg, pressing the warmth of her near-unclothed cunt against his robed thigh. He felt the warmth and moist even through his robe.

She grabbed his already throbbing member through the fabric of his robe, expertly coaxing as she had done since the first night when they had coupled oh-so violently.

Magoren knew what would happen, should she get her way.

They would fuck here in the streets, he thought in between violent, demanding kisses. Her sharp teeth brushed his tongue, his lips, yet never broke skin. True pain had taught her what he thought of that. The demanding, incessant noises coming from her throat designed to drive him lustful beyond reason grew more insistent.

He tore her corset with a sharp motion. The material, easily giving way beneath his strong hands, was still a mystery to him. It was much as her desires were -- infinitely malleable. He had taken her in places most would call worse, and a nosy, interruptive guardsman could be sent on his way with a devilishly laden syllable from the lips separating beneath his tongue.

Saszira grinned as he freed her breasts, her eyes glazing when he struck her once more. Magoren pushed up against her, roughly parting her wet channel with two fingers without preparation. A sound like a deep, feline purr came deeply from her throat. She looked drunk and drugged. Her kind fed off desire and lust and he gave her what she craved -- regularly.

The hot, moist flesh of her cunt met his touch and her cloak fell as her wings unfurled, batting uselessly against the wall behind her.

"Whore." He snarled at her, giving her a slap that surely was enough to make even her ears ring.

"Yessssss..." She replied, biting her lower lip as she rode the two fingers he gave her. Always ready, never satisfied.

"I hate you." It was a statement of fact. True, coming from his own lips. He hated her from the depth of what remained of his heart and soul.

Saszira grinned, showing small fangs.

"I hate you too." She reached, sharp fingernails tearing fabric as she wrapped her dexterous fingers around his hard cock. She gazed up into him, her eyes markedly clear while still riding his thrusting fingers. "Now love me" The sultry creature purred.

Magoren withdrew his fingers, taking hold of her by her shoulders and ignoring the brushing of her bat-like, demonic wings as he pressed her against the wall. Hoisting her up, he unceremoniously slammed into her, burying himself to the hilt into her.

A sharp cry of mingled pleasure, relief and victory burst from her throat, piercing even the ongoing sound of shattering hailstones.

The contrast was sharp, he noted dimly. She was warm. More then merely femininely warm, but hot. Juice trickled from her, quickly coating his cock and driving him to further ecstasy. He pressed against her and she pressed back.

A stray, icy projectile struck her cheek, staggering her momentarily. "Fuck me, my master. Fuck me now!" She snarled bestially, baring teeth.

He started fucking her.

In some ways, the difference between taking a mortal woman and taking a succubus was like the difference between night and day. Neither was better, they were merely separate. In other ways, no mortal woman could ever hope to have the stamina, resilience, lust and expertise of a demonic succubus.

They were made to fuck and be fucked. They were built for sex, conditioned to please. It was the way they lived, survived, killed and eventually died.

Moans and exclamations came continually from her as he took what he wanted. What she wanted him to take. Sometimes it was difficult to tell who began these things.

"Ah! Bastard...harder! Fuck me harder! Ooh!" She spat, clutching his shoulders to hold herself erect against the wall.

He growled. Magoren's vision was blurred from lust and he clutched her throat with one hand, repeatedly slamming into her, grinding her wings and back against the coarse bricks with the force of the movements. The warlock groaned with pleasure. She was heavenly, and the obvious irony amused him.

She was honey, malleable and fluid. Seemingly sensing the sudden wave of pleasure mixed with affection, she snaked her supple arms around his chest, pulling herself up to kiss him. Capable of tenderness though it he knew it irked her, she licked and kissed his lips and tongue.

"Bitch." He growled, though he knew the amusement he felt was clear, confirmed when she giggled in response.

"You love me." She whispered between kisses, her oral gentleness in contrast with the way she rocked, slammed and drove her hips down to meet his thrusts.

"Aaah...Yes." He admitted, feeling her cunt tense and tighten in response, her sharp intake of breath announcing an oncoming climax.

Her releases were spectacular, and he wondered if the people living here would believe someone was about to be raped. Then again, he reminded himself, this was old town.

She had somehow gotten her arms beneath his robe and was stroking his back. The skin that did not respond to a hailstone warmed up when she touched him. A gasp came from Saszira and threw her head back to scream.

"Fuck!" Was the only word she got out before her outburst became an incoherent yell. He felt her cunt tighten around his hard cock, driving what rationality was left out, and the dripping of her cunt quickly became a rivulet.

Magoren moaned loudly, the sensations and rippling of her sex spurred him on. A sudden rush of lust was all the warning he had and the young man slammed his creature into the wall hard, eliciting another scream as he came, shooting pent-up sexual desire into her in a violent spurt.

A smile slowly spread on her lips. It would have been lovely had there not been the merest hint of....feeding clearly visible in her lustful eyes. He grunted.

Roughly, as roughly as he had entered, he pulled out, leaving her gasping and standing unsteadily on the cobblestones. A trickle of fluid, semen and her own juice, found it's way from her sex down her thigh and leg.

"Mmm..master" Saszira grinned.

She quickly folded into him. Not content, she was never that. Merely sated for the moment, he would say.

He considered shoving her off him, then relented and held her. The succubus had saved his life more then once, yet she was his creature and he the master.

"Master. We have...a spectator." Saszira announced with an impish grin, looking past his shoulder.

He spun. One of the foolish city guards? The man would have to be enspelled . Public displays such as this was not...loved, to put it mildly.

No however, there was no city guard.

Instead there was a young girl of perhaps nineteen. Certainly not city-bred, that kind knew to stay clear of an obvious warlock. Her freckled face, unruly wheat-coloured hair and drab, linen clothing spoke of the farmlands. Perhaps Elwynn, perhaps Westfall. With one hand, she held a small square of wood to shield from the weather. The other was pressed to her mouth, eyes wide in what he would say was horror.

"Leave, girl!" He spat. "If you tell anyone of what you saw, I will make certain no man will ever look at you."

He could only imagine what a sight they made. A young man without hair ravishing a creature clearly inhuman during a hailstorm. Saszira grinned however, stepping forward.

"Why ever would she leave? I think she enjoyed the show...." The succubus trailed off. Her eyes seemed to glow, although instead of giving light, they drank in some of what light there was.

Clearly enjoying her own blatant nudity, she stepped forward provocatively, mumbling.

He gave her a sharp look, wondering what the hellish creature was about to do. He had seen her strike out in jealousy, taking a young woman's throat out with a single whiplash. He had witnessed her, purring, seducing a farmgirl during harvestide. He had watched her encourage him to take the heiress of a rich merchant. She was as chaotic in her responses as her nature, killing some as indiscriminately as she would let others live.

At least she wasn't brandishing her whip now, he thought dryly.

"Come, whore." Saszira had taken the girl by her hair, pulling her to the small, walled corner. "Come here." Her voice crackled with barely restrained energy.

The girl, though her eyes were wide with terror, followed despite her firm headshaking. Shaking her head and hair as though to be rid of an insect settling on her ear.

"You charmed her, didn't you,"

"Charmed? Me? Never, master." She gave him a look of such blatant innocence and mock outrage he nearly laughed when she yanked the girl to the wall, presenting her to him as though a trophy with both her hands settled on the girl's shoulders.

"It's not polite to watch others...have fun, you know." The succubus continued, threading her supple fingers through the girl's hair. "What if I didn't want you to watch?" She giggled, as though amused at the notion.

"...Demon..." The whisper was nearly inaudible. Her eyes flicked from him, pleading, to their surroundings. Her wooden shelter had dropped to the pavement, but the hail slowly abated.

Magoren raised his brow. The girl could still speak coherently? That was a surprise, considering the strength of Sasziras demonically empowered charm.

"Demon?" His pet yanked the girls' hair back, bringing the back of her head against her generously proportioned breasts. "Yesss. And you my dear...are meat."

He recognized the sudden flare of annoyance in her as she grasped the girls buttoned shirt, tearing both shirt and underlying shift apart to bare an impressive pair of full, pale, breasts.

The warlock felt his desire stir, faintly but insistently. As though reading his thoughts, Sasziras gaze met his for several heartbeats and a fierce grin spread on her lips.

"You want her." It was a statement of fact. A dangerous light smoldered in her dark eyes. Had he not controlled her, he would have stepped back into the wall.

"Yes." He replied coldly. That gaze was familiar. She wanted to tear the girl's throat out, and if they were unlucky, he would have to explain the corpse. He stepped forward, reaching over the girl and squeezing her left breast in his hand. The thrill of pleasure it sent through her was clear on her face, but she didn't lower her look.

Suddenly she grinned maliciously.

"Take her. Knees!" The last was directed at the girl, before Saszira roughly shoved her to her knees, holding her by her hair.

That happened from time to time as well. Mood swings and temper flares as sudden as lightning, chaos in all things. He cupped the girl's chin, looking down into her terrified eyes, and felt his smile widen.

The girl was pretty.

His robe was torn already and he moved the folds to free his already engorged cock, pressing it roughly to the girls face.

The succubus grinned and drove her fingers into the victims cheek, forcing her lips apart and quickly leaned forward to lick the drop of sweat that trickled down her brow. She also took a moment to give his cock a sly touch and lick with her tongue, making his member twitch.

"Do it" She ordered, glaring up at him.

Magoren gazed at the creature coldly.

"Master..." she added belatedly.

He thrust home, sliding his cock into the girl's mouth, groaning at the feel of velvet tongue and warm, moist recesses of human female mouth. His hand surged forward, joining the hand of the succubus in her hair, making it easier for himself to have his way with her mouth.

"Like the whore's mouth?" She demanded, pressing her face to his crotch and making the girl choke on his cock, pulling her off to hold her against her lilac-skinned crotch. Coughs racked the girl and saliva trailed from her mouth. Her dark green eyes were unfocused and glazed, Sasziras enspelling affecting every nerve of her body.

Eventually she would crave sex as much as his creature. At least for a while.

He nodded

"Good." She grinned cruelly, pressing her face back to his cock. Saszira grabbed his collar with her second hand, pulling him close for a kiss.

The sensation of the two was near-enthralling. He moaned

"I love you, bitch." He growled in between kisses. His creature's tongue was softer even than velvet, impossibly smooth and kissing her was always like increasing lust a hundredfold.

"I love you" She replied, eyes glazed and inhaling deeply, as though smelling and tasting the emotion. She seemed to like what she tasted, kissing twice as hotly and forcing the girls mouth onto him deeper. Her eyes narrowed.

He was closing quickly with the twin sensations, breathing hard, and growled in dismay when she violently pulled the girls mouth back to push her to a laying position against the wall.

"You wanted her, not just her worthless mouth" Saszira growled, parting the girls lower dress as though parting paper. Linen and wool undergarment split, exposing a fine pussy and thighs. The girl's cunt was covered by a fine, blonde down.

He was certain that there was a fine scent to her, but his tactile sensations had been dulled from the innumerable sessions of sex with a creature that exuded so much more. He knelt, spreading her legs apart to gain better entry and slammed home with a deep, satisfied grunt. "Fuck..." He growled deeply, beginning to take her.