The Thunderborn's Destiny

And suddenly, Lark's breath caught in her throat, the lurid images flashing in her mind of dozens, hundreds of naked fey, covered in sweat and all manner of bodily fluids, indeed, even the unclean fluids, making her throat dry and her loins quiver. "Perhaps we can teach each other some things, then."

The minotaur grinned. "Indeed."

"Why did Vespire complain heatedly of you?" Lark asked, her hand reaching out to touch the virility growing between his thighs.

"She is a slattern," the minotaur said, "so I treated her as such. I offered her what I offer you, but she wanted one thing from me. She used it as a weapon against Allander and to entice your human. I imagine she is with him now. As I am with you."

"I hope so," she said, gripping his cock in both hands, stroking it slowly. "Show me something new," she rasped as she pressed her face against his softly furred chest.

The minotaur grinned and bit her shoulder again, leaving angry red marks where his teeth were. Warmth flowed out of his cock, bathing her thighs, and Lark gasped in surprise. His piss was clear, but the fragrance was not pungent as she was used to. It was decidedly clean. Perhaps a nature of the fey heritage within him. She relished in it, letting it flow over her thighs and mingle with the hot shower water and the warm desire flowing from her loins. When he finished, she opened her legs, baring her pink sex and the auburn hair crowning it.

"Eat me," she demanded, though her voice was full of desperate need.

The minotaur nibbled his way down her arm as he went to his knees. Kneeling before her, his head was level with her breasts, but he bent down, lifting the woman's hips to his face, and draping a leg over his furry, muscular shoulder. His tongue was broad and coarse, lashing her pussy with slow, methodical attention. The minotaur at her with skill that surprised the heartwarder, and her juices flowed freely over his chin and mouth. He lapped hungrily, like a beast to its water bowl, and felt Lark's hands grasp his horns.

Grinning to himself, the minotaur brought a hand up to her loins, stroking her entrance with a thick, coarse finger. Lark whimpered, her body quivering with this sensation. She'd never felt touches like what she was receiving from the minotaur, and the uniqueness set her blood aflame. When he penetrated her, she doubled over in exquisite, agonizing bliss. She felt her loins juicing over the digit as it plumbed her depths, slowly reaching further in, stroking her inner walls with the coarse, calloused tip of his finger. Slowly, his tongue still tormenting her clitoris, he began to pump the finger in and out, coating it with her musky arousal.

But her true surprise came when he slipped that finger out and pushed it up against her anus. She let out a higher pitched gasp, then moan, and as he began to push the slickened digit into her tight, rear hole, she did her best to relax so that the tight ring could stretch around his probing finger. The way he thrust into her, the way he ate her pussy, the light animal scent around him...it all came together to evoke a wholly different person in Lark.

She snarled, gripping his horns and shoving his muzzle into her loins with commanding force. She could feel his growling chuckle vibrating her clit, and just as his finger knuckled itself into her anal ring, she came, gushing her fluid over his maw as her body shuddered in climax. She whimpered, and he shifted around beneath her. Before she knew what was happening, his tongue was probing her anus, a finger was fucking her pussy, and another finger stroked her clitoris. She mauled her breasts, pinching her nipples, and came again.

She was blinded by the sensations. She saw nothing, felt nothing, other than what happened in that shower stall.

*****

The energy lines coursing through Vespire's flesh flashed with pulsating light, timed in concert with her heartbeat. A heartbeat that Hammer felt in her tight, gripping cunt as his cock stuffed it beyond its tearing point. Blood trickled steadily over his shaft, but the genasi growled, gritting her teeth into his shoulder, and drawing his own blood in the process. It trickled down her lip, down his chest, and was washed away by the water.

When finally she mastered herself, she'd experienced a wracking, painful orgasm from the overloading. She gasped and panted against Hammer. Finally, she relaxed a little, looking up at him with gray eyes. "That was...unexpected," she breathed. Her voice was like air. Slowly, she began to twist her hips, her hands gripping the back of the barbarian's neck, thumbs digging into his collar bone as she gyrated, hips sliding up and down, side to side, forward and back.

Hammer gripped her ass firmly, holding her, but when her heels dug into the backs of his thighs, he knew that she had total control, so he put his hands against the wall, holding her there as she rode him in that position.

Her eyes were intense, focused entirely on one thing as she bored her gaze into his own. They never broke eye contact, and while Hammer's jaw was set and firm, her jaw was slack, open and panting, emiting airy moans of distinct pleasure as her loins adjust and took his entire member painlessly.

Until, of course, he began returning his thrusts. As she drove down, he thrust ups, pressing deep enough that her stomach seemed to twitch with his depth. She cried out again, loudly, in a pained voice that somehow drove her to greater heights of fuck-lust. She rode him vigorously, plowing herself on his cock. She gripped his cock with her pussy, squeezing hard to milk him dry, and was rewarded almost instantly.

Hammer's chest rumbled with a growl—or was it thunder?—and she felt his flood of hot cum filling her chamber to overflowing. She quivered and came with him, her orgasm powerful enough to spray issue of her nectar over his groin. He gasped in surprise at the sudden flood, mingling with the hot water spraying all over them from above. Vespire wondered at the sheer volume of his cum. She felt it blossoming within her womb until it was uncomfortable to hold it in. She pushed off his cock, and his cum flowed from her pussy in pearly white gushes, coating her inner thighs. He laughed, his mirth a product of surprise at his own issue.

"Watching Gods," she gasped, looking down and grinning dumbly. "That was incredible." She slid away from him, scooping some up with her fingers to taste it, and grinned as she swallowed. "Delicious."

Hammer watched her, cock rigid and standing straight out form his groin, thick and proud. She went about cleaning herself, taking time to truly bathe, and he joined her, soaping and washing his hair, but throughout, his cock never flagged as he watched her lithe, athletically toned body. She seemed oblivious, but then, of a sudden, she gasped.

"Fuck, Hammer. You're still hard!"

"I am a barbarian," he said flatly, as if that explained everything.

Vespire stared a moment longer, then pushed him into the wall, turned around, and bent over, her ass sliding up the length of his cock. Her height should not have made such a thing possible, compared to him. But then, she was windsoul. The air in the shower lifted her up level with him. His cock pressed between her small, round cheeks, but only until he seized her hips, angled his cock down, and thrust into her from behind.

"Fuck me, Hammer," she snarled, and he roared his agreement as he grasped her crystalline locks of "hair" in one hand, and her ass in the other hand. The barbarian fell into his rage—or the sexual equivalent—and fucked her with all the vigor of the Northern barbarians, all the fury of the Uthgardt barbarians, and all the desire of the ancient spirits that dwelled within him. The storm that dwelt in his heart, the thunderborn fury, roiled as he hammered into her cervix, pummeling her insides with the mass of his cock.

"Fuck me like the slattern I am," Vespire snarled, twisting her head over her shoulder to stare back at the mountain of manhood thrusting behind her. He grinned wickedly at her, reaching his hand from her hip down between her thighs to stroke her clitoris. Hammering powerfully into her, his hips moving in blinding flashes of flesh, and his fingers strumming her clit, he had her mewling and begging in a heartbeat. Her cream flowed freely over his cock and, finally, the barbarian drove his point home, sheathing his greatsword in her, and exploding with thick, white cream.

He kept rutting her for a moment longer, slowing until his thrusts were at a crawl, but remained inside her even as he began to will himself to flag.

After all, her limp body had passed out, and all that held her up was his hand in her "hair" and his cock in her loins.

*****

Lark had been thoroughly surprised by Gungir's ability to show her pleasure. Vespire's declamations toward his predilections had indeed been false. She didn't know how often she'd cum on his massive, minotaur cock, but as she rode him into her umpteenth orgasm, hands bearing down on his horns, she didn't care. He was large inside her, but truly, not as large as Hammer had been. Perhaps she was more accommodating than Vespire, but she needed very little magic to keep herself accommodating to the beast-man.

Gungir liked that. "It's more natural this way," he growled as he drove into her the first time. Lark smiled at that, accepting his meat with eagerness and fluid grace. Stretched and prodded in both holes, she relished in his big cock in her pussy and two of his thick, burly fingers in her anus. Her breasts were raw from his biting and suckling and groping. Her scalp felt bruised from some rough handling he'd given her moments ago. But now, mounting him, she felt truly in control, powerful, as the hot water pooled around them before draining away through the floor.

Sprawled out on the tile floor, in the water, the minotaur was as clean as he'd ever been, a sensation that thrilled his senses. Lark held to his horns like handles, and he tossed his head every now and then to make her giggle, or to wobble her breasts from side to side teasingly while he nipped and suckled them with his thick lips and broad tongue. They were red and raw from his ministrations, and she didn't seem to be caring about that.

"You are like the nymphs of the Feywild," he said to her as she grinned down at him, her body sliding up and down his prick. "They, too, like to ride their mates. Though generally—mmf—there mates are hapless men and women from your world."

Riding up and down his cock, she couldn't formulate a complete sentence, so she simply grunted and groaned, grinning in the knowledge that she reminded him of such primal beauty of his homeland. But one thought coalesced in her mind. One that she could not ignore.

"I want...I...want your cum. In me," she said between gasps and grunts. She swiveled her hips around, then slid up and down his shift, then thrust them forward and back, stirring her insides with his massive bull-prick. "I want it...now, Gungir!"

The minotaur growled in his throat, then bucked his hips, thrusting up into her powerfully, his hips clenching as her cunny squeezed on his bullhood. His cum fountained into her, blossoming in her womb with warmth and cream. Then, he came again, snorting and grunting as his cum flowed freely in massive torrents to accompany the first, smaller orgasm. Her eyes shot open wide, her womb feeling much like a balloon filling with cum. Heavy and laden, prone to burst.

She fell off him, pushing off just as her orgasm, wrought from pleasure and alarm, burst her control, showering his cock with her issue. His cum drizzled from her pussy, then flowed in rivers. And he still did not stop. Roaring, the minotaur gripped her thighs, his cum spraying high into the shower, mingling with the water, and spattering her chest, stomach, and even her face a little. The geyser of bull-jizz overwhelmed her, and she came down from her orgasm in fits of laughter, utterly pleased at the mess they'd made.

Gungir joined her laughter shortly thereafter, but he was cut off as the curtain was torn open.

"Clean yourselves," snapped a sultry voice. Cyra stood in the entrance, nude and glistening, her pussy pouting and leaking. "It is time to mingle."

*****

Hammer relaxed in his shower, finally alone. Vespire's interlude was a pleasant surprise, and one he thoroughly enjoyed, but he needed to bathe. It felt good to have the scented soaps and such wash off the road and what not that had gathered on his person. He was not a vain person, but there was value in being clean. He shut off the water, dried with his towel, and was glad to see leather breeches and soft boots laid out for him, his gear otherwise gone, save for his sword. The clothes were clean, and fit perfectly, so he smiled and made a not to thank whoever had given him the clothing.

"You can thank Miria for that," came a sultry voice. He looked up in in time to see Vespire, Lark, and Gungir ascending the stairs out of the bathing chambers. The tiefling was staring at him, naked and gleaming with moisture, her nipples hard and her cunny glistening. "We have a proposal for you."

"I'm listening," he said, pulling his sword over his back by the strap he'd found attached to it. It had a new scabbard, one of fine wood and leather, with a soft strap that rested on his bare skin easily.

"I spoke to Miria, matron of this Festhall. She believes you are sent here by Sune. She wants you to take my job as enforcer."

"Enforcer?" he asked.

"Yes. Make certain the patrons don't get too handsy with the working girls and boys. No fighting. Things of that nature. You'll likely also tend bar."

"And what of you?" he asked.

"I'll be in charge of the working girls and boys, and make sure they don't get too handsy with the patrons," she said with a sly grin. "Of course, my job would be easier."

He looked over her athletic, muscular-yet-wholly-feminine body, licking his lips at her wonderfully round and perky breasts and her incredibly round and muscular bottom and thighs. She was a woman built for power and speed. Unlike Vespire and Lark, entirely. He grinned. "I was brought her by a vision. This was given to me by the Red Knight and by Sune. I accept. But what of my friends?"

"They are welcome to stay for a time," she said, licking her lips as she came close to the barbarian, fingers reaching for the waist of his breeches. "But I suspect they will be eager to leave. They are not ones to sit around for a long time."

"You assume much," he said. But truly, he figured she was right. Despite Lark's insistence to meet the matron of the Dancing Rose, he didn't truly believe she'd want to stick around indefinitely, and he saw no end to this adventure for him. "When do I start?"

"Now," she said. "I'm going for a swim. I have to keep in shape, you know. Miria is upstairs waiting for you."

*****

The next two tendays passed with the four of them rarely leaving the Dancing Rose. They shared each other willingly. Hammer laid with Vespire and Lark as they pleased, sometimes both at once, and Gungir did the same. Though Cyra had often made many insinuations and flirtations, she'd made it abundantly clear that, while she wanted to fuck him into oblivion, she wasn't going to. Perhaps it was professional courtesy, perhaps she respected his two lovers too much.

Or perhaps Miria had demanded her fidelity. He knew for a fact that Miria was a lesbian. She'd told him on their first meeting not to bother trying, as she only laid with women. He shrugged that off, though. Between Lark and Vespire, he had more than he needed below the belt.

But eventually, they all knew they would part ways. Gungir clasped wrists with him, embraced him as a brother, and left without a word. Warriors need not speak such things, after all.

Vespire, while about as emotionally verbal s the minotaur, did embrace him lovingly, kissing him repeatedly, and stifled a tear or two. "I'll see you again, one day or another," she promised him, and he agreed, kissing her tears away.

Lark replaced the genasi. "Hammer," she said, her hands weaving with his, then embracing him calmly, smiling. "It has been an honor fighting alongside you, a pleasure laying with you, and I do love you as a dear, dear companion. I pray to Sune that we meet again, but I depart you knowing that if we do not, you are in good hands, and her hand is in your life."

He smiled. "Lark, you have been the best friend I have ever had in the time we've been together. Vyathan smiles on our joining and the spirits guide you in your endeavors. If the gods will it, then we will meet again. If not, I know Gungir and Vespire will entertain you thoroughly."

They smiled, laughed, and kissed. She cried, and he kissed what tears he could before she turned and rushed away. Cyra was next to him, a hand on his lower back. He was shirtless, muscles thick and gleaming in the low light. "They are good friends," she said, leaning her horned head against his thick shoulder. "You are better for knowing them."

"I am," he said. He accepted her company, smiling as he watched Lark look back at him, smile, then close the door behind her. He looked down, sighing, at the gleaming steel of his sword resting under the bartop. "I will miss them," he said.

"Don't worry," she said. "With every parting, we grow stronger. There is enough here to keep you company. Ah...what's this?"

Hammer looked up as the door opened again, thinking that one of his lovers had come back for one more kiss.

A woman with skin black as polished obsidian stood in the doorway, her robe elegant and revealing, her silver-white hair accented with a small shock of red hair. The drow locked eyes with him immediately, smiling with gold-glittered lips thick and soft-looking. Her body was built for pleasure, for combat, and for physical appeal.

The decadent drow approached with a confident swagger.

Hammer knew he would not be short of excitement for the rest of his living days.