Athaniel's Libation Ch. 05

© 2023 E.P van Gelder. All rights reserved. The author asserts the right to be identified as the author of this story. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review. If you see this story on any website other than Literotica.com, it's been copied without the author's permission.

----------------------------------------

Greetings from a sunny Scotland!

My dear readers, sorry for the wait. My house has been full of guests these past weeks and I have been having a great old debaucherous birthday time. Also, the Scottish summer arrived. And since it usually only lasts for about two weeks, I tend to leave all but the firmest obligations on the back burner in favour of stocking up on vit D.

I'm not sure what was going on in my life when I wrote this section, but it was a right mess. It took a lot more time to edit than anticipated and at times I was more re-writing than editing to be honest. If I wasn't enjoying revisiting these characters so much, I probably would have ditched this whole endeavour. My other books are starting to suffer a lack of attention.

Anyway, I hope y'all like it. Let me know what you think!

----------------------------------------

I had witnessed my consorts, born aloft by rapture so profound they transcended the realms of flesh and blood.

I had held them in my arms when sublime ecstasy racked their bodies. I had watched the wind bear them away to a higher realm where they basked in the glory of infinity itself.

But I had never seen them break like this.

"Don't stop fucking me that juicy elf dick," the woman spread out on the grass in front of me, pleaded, her voice raw from screaming. "I need more cock... I need more of that cum. Drown me in your spunk!"

My breath came in ragged gasps as I stood over her, recovering from my last orgasm. Exhaustion was setting in. The tired satisfaction that called for a deep sleep entangled in the arms of my consorts. But this was not my consort. She was someone else's. And if he found her here in the orchard, asleep in my arms, her leaking body ravaged, her hair cum-crusted to her skull, well... it may not turn out in her favor. Or mine.

But the sky in the east was showing the glow of the approaching day. And when I surveyed the scene in front of me, a dawning of another kind hit me. About eight orgasms too late, I pondered what I was going to do with this woman.

Her pleading now an unintelligible mutter, she'd curled up on her side. Her eyes were becoming dangerously heavy. "Hmmmm," she sighed, and then went silent, a contented smile spreading over her face. The lady Hinde was passing out in the grass at my feet.

"No!" I crouched by her to wake her up. "My lady!" I hissed. "Don't go to sleep! We need to get you home."

She rolled onto her back and sank her fingers into her sodden breasts before they could slump off her chest. She gave them a congratulatory jiggle and then stretched her spine, purring. "I have an idea--" her eyes floated open to regard me gleefully"--how about you come again? In here--" she opened her mouth and stuck out a very pink, glistening tongue. Beyond that tongue, a darkness invited me and for a moment my mind blanked, while my cock decided there was time to accept the invitation. But this situation required action of a different sort if I was to get here home safely and prevent her from being labeled a... what would they label her?

"You've turned me into such a cum whore!" the formerly proper noblewoman announced, lifting a wobbling breast to her mouth to suck it clean.

I gawked at her as more and more of the soft flesh disappeared into the vacuum between her lips. She looked back at me with a challenge in her eyes that with every tattered breath was becoming more of a triumph.

Never had I imagined such a scene. I was unprepared. Defenseless. Before I knew it, I was scooting forward and straddling her chest.

"One last time then." I made my voice rumble with grit, to make it seem like I was in control.

I was not.

She pulled the soft mound out from between her lips with a wet pop and let it topple down, forgotten. "Hmmm," she mumbled, and then presented her tongue again.

But it was not her tongue that I wanted. There was no time for teasing. The hair on the top of her head squelched as I dug my fingers into it, and when I pulled her face up, new rivulets streamed down her face. I wiped one away before it could drip into her unblinking eyes, still watching me with the same challenge. "Open wider," I told her.

"Aaaah." She stretched her jaw as wide as she could and I sank the red, incensed head of my cock into her gullet. This time, there was no resistance. Her eyes bulged and tears immediately mixed with the remnants of my last orgasm. But her throat stretched around me like it was tailored, just for me.

How rare was it that Lethiana would allow me to enjoy this heady delight? My essence should always go where it could quicken. And to be shared equally between my consorts.

But not today. Throughout the night I had fucked this woman into a cum crazed delirium of the likes I had never beheld in my life. Even now, I used her face like a rag doll. The muscles of her throat yielded to my invasion without resistance or struggle. Her trust was absolute, all pervasive, while I fucked her to a pulp and devoured the juicy flesh by the handful.

Not once had she blinked while I fucked her with all my length, from where her tongue lapped at my crown to where her chin was mashed between my stones, she succumbed to it all, over and over. She only wanted more, always more.

This one was a clean orgasm, functional. One last push into the grip of her throat, a stifled grunt, and the last I had to give her was surging down her esophagus. Her eyes turned red and veins appeared on her temple. White liquid trickled out of her nostril, just as I shot my last shot. Finally, she convulsed and yanked her head back with a wet cough. A thick glob came flying out of her lungs and splashed onto my stomach. In between frustrated mewls, she heaved and spluttered to catch her breath. But before long, she attacked my abdomen with an open mouth, like a starving beggar invited to the king's feast.

Satisfied there was none wasted, she let her head fall back into the grass with a very pleased and villainous smile. She snorted and the white trickle from her nose jumped back into her nostril. She only coughed a little and then swallowed heavily. "Yum." She beamed at me. "So good."

A moment later though, her eyes rolled up as another wave of cum induced euphoria washed over her in full force. Alarmed, I watched her eyes droop shut as she came untethered from this world in which cooks picked herbs and husbands woke from their drunken stupor. That last orgasm had been wholly unnecessary. The last thing I needed was to be stuck here in the gardens with an unconscious noblewoman so full of cum it might just come out of her ears.

I hoisted her up, and onto her feet, hoping that the sudden movement would rouse her. It was, in part, a success. She regarded me dreamily as she stood, wavering in the grass.

"Do you have somewhere to go?" I asked her as I picked grass out of the wet, tangled mass of her hair. "Where can I take you?"

She thrust out her bottom lip childishly and shook her head.

Wholly unprepared, I balled up my discarded tunic and tried to mop up the slimy mess that covered most of her skin. Crusts of dried cum flaked off her back in dusty clouds to settle on the grass. I stepped back to study my handiwork. The improvements, to be fair, were marginal. She looked a right mess.

Next, I found her dress, shook the grass off of it and held it out to her. "Put it on, my lady. We can't march you through the keep naked."

"Why not?" She gawked at me with a gaze that was utterly devoid of comprehension. More cum runneled down her temple and across her cheek, ruining my attempt to dry her.

"Ahm... Okay... step in, my lady." I went to my knees and held the dress open at her feet. When I looked back up, she was staring into space and absentmindedly tweaking a nipple between two fingers. The rivulet of cum had conveniently reached the corner of her mouth and her tongue snaked out like a chameleon catching a fly.

"My lady?"

"Huh?"

I gently lifted one of her feet into the dress. "There..."

She stumbled a little, but the other foot soon followed. The sea of silky fabric back slid up over her legs and her hips with little effort. Her chest proved more of a challenge. But, seemingly a little more aware now, she helped me by stuffing her breasts into the corset like she was squeezing dough into a bread tin.

Her white cotton camisole lay forgotten on the ground where her dress had been. I picked it up and looked at her questioningly as I held up her underwear. She shrugged and grabbed it, only to let it dangle from her fingers, already forgotten.

Anyone within 20 feet could see that her hair was a matted nest, where it wasn't slicked to the side of her head. The back of her dress was now a hopeless tangle of laces. She reeked of sex and cum. And she looked like someone who'd woken from a century long sleep.

But at least she wasn't naked.

I guided her, my arm around her waist, through the orchard and the herb garden and back through the door into the keep. I asked her twice where I should bring her, but both times she muttered something about my cock and my chambers.

With no idea where to take her, I had a moment of panic when we stepped into the stone hallway that led past the king's hall. It was dark, except for the patches of moonlight falling through the windows. The silence was oppressive, and I was convinced that eyes were following us from every velvety shadow. What would be worse now? For her to be found wandering the keep on her own in this state? Or for her to be found wandering the keep with me? I knew which option would be worse for me, but I had chosen this rather odd moment finally to take responsibility.

I couldn't leave her alone, and I didn't know where to take her. So I stood there, frozen, while Hinde snuggled her face into my shoulder and groaned.

Then, to make things worse, a servant girl emerged from the darkness at the end of the hall. I opened my mouth to tell her some kind of story that I hadn't even invented yet, but she spoke before me.

"Don't worry, I'll take her back to her chambers, lord."

She paused for a moment, hands on her hips, surveying the scene in front of her with a frown. "She's leaking."

Only then did I notice a trail of incriminating white globs leading from the door to the space between my buxom protégé's feet.

Quickly, I cast about for something to wipe it up.

The servant girl just shook her head, exasperated. She grabbed the white top that still dangled from Hinde's hand and balled it up. She shook the ball of fabric at me--"you owe me, my lord"--then she squatted and mopped the white splatters from the flagstones between Hinde's legs. "The things I do for the princess," she grumbled. She was angry. And I could see why, as she was currently on her knees, mopping up someone's cum with a discarded noblewoman's camisole.

"What's your name?" I asked when she got up.

"Irene. And in case you're wondering. I'm one of Mala's girls."

"I'm sorry..." I started, but she ignored me and turned to the lady. "Now, come here."

What followed was possibly the most undignified thing I had ever witnessed. Irene dropped to her knees, lifted Hinde's skirt and stuffed the wad of cum soaked fabric between Hinde's legs.

"Can you walk like that?" She asked Hinde.

"Hmm?" Hinde mumbled next to me, lifting her head from my shoulder when she awoke from her reverie.

"Come now, my lady. We need to get you to your room. You need a bath." Irene wrinkled her nose and then stepped around to wrap her arm around Hinde's waist.

"Where is my husband?" Hinde muttered.

"Still asleep with his head on his plate."

"Oh..." Hinde pouted. "I wanted him to see me."

Irene gawked at her and then turned an accusing gaze to me. Her black eyes were as intense as the rest of her. "What are you doing do to these women? Freya is obsessed. Now this lady..."

"Just wait till you see his cock," the lady Hinde mumbled.

Irene rolled her eyes. But then they settled on my breeches for a moment too long. She tore her burning gaze away with a grunt of frustration. "You owe me," she hissed at me over her shoulder when she led Hinde away.

All I could do was nod dumbly and watch her lead the tottering noblewoman away.

I found my own chambers without issue this time. The twisting corridors of the keep no longer seemed a stone maze built to confuse my memory. My steps echoed hollowly as I passed by vacant audience chambers and storerooms, pausing only when a flicker of movement caught my eye behind a pillar. A trick of the light, I thought, or a rat skittering into the shadows. I shrugged it off and carried on, eager to find my bath and then my bed, to rest for tomorrow's duel.

The icy bath did wonders for my fraying nerves. And as I sank into the cool water, I knew the red haze of desire was lifted from my mind for the first time since leaving the Broken Crags. I was truly satisfied, at least for now. No longer did panic claw at me, born of the knowledge I had no way to slake my thirst. My urges would be met, of that I grew more certain with each passing day. 

I wondered how my circle fared in my absence. Likely they sought to content one another. Soon they would turn outward to the youths living with family or wandering alone. I smirked. Though mere children in our eyes, they were ancient compared to the women I had foolhardily blessed with the eternal bond. They were so young it was hard to even comprehend, and grew old faster than the season's harvest.

If only my consorts could see me now, rutting with humans like we were animals. They would decry such dalliances in horror, claiming humans little better than cattle, the men coarse and unkempt, the women soft and helpless. 

Were they helpless? Nay, they cared for one another. There was strength in that.

And soft? Oh yes. It was rapidly becoming my sole obsession. I plunged my head beneath the icy water to douse such thoughts before they threatened my transient peace.

When at last I emerged from the water, a bone-deep weariness had claimed me. Finding no towel, I feebly wiped the worst of the wet from my skin and tumbled into bed, content to air dry in the cool night as sleep's dark shadows closed around me.

-

A sound woke me--the door closing. I started awake to find yet another servant girl I'd never seen. How many servants could one place need? 

I propped myself up, my hair a tangled mess. Her gaze slid down my chest. When I followed it, I saw I saw the cold hard facts about what had distracted her.

"My lord," she said, addressing my cock. "Forna sent me to see if you're awake. There's the matter of your duel." 

"Fuck." I groaned. 

"I...I don't think there's time, but I could come back..." She trailed off when her eyes crept up to meet my glare, her face turned scarlet.  

I gazed at her, unmoved. She squeaked, "Alright!" and fled.  

This had gone too far. I couldn't have the whole damn castle trying to bed me. Could I? By day's end, I already knew, I'd likely change my tune. 

Braiding my hair and dressing quickly, I readied myself in no time. Well-rested for the first time since leaving the Broken Crags, I must be getting comfortable here. I snickered cynically at the thought, quite comfortable indeed.

Either way, I felt grateful for the newfound energy, as I was about to fight Kaelfred. I wasn't entirely sure about the stakes of this 'duel' but the excitement in the hall when Kaelfred had challenged me suggested I'd want my wits about me.

Not that I was worried. I'd been schooled by the age's greatest masters and had honed my craft for centuries. Kaelfred was naught but a drunk, snoring face-down on his plate. His challenge posed less of a threat than his wife's. Also, it was far less entertaining.

The hall seemed a likely place to find Forna. I found my way with ease this time and, sure enough, there he sat, staring into a steaming mug.  

He looked up. "You're late." 

I shrugged. "I don't normally eat breakfast." 

"You're late for your duel." His expression was grim. 

"My duel?" I snorted skeptically. "Anyone care to explain to me what 'my duel' actually involves?" 

"Not sleeping till midday would be a good start." 

I'd never seen him this annoyed with me. And for a moment I tried to think of why that was rather than selfishly complain like a sullen child. These men loved doling out insults. Likely, he'd endured the brunt of it at breakfast while I slept, well-fucked, with my head on a velvet pillow. I sighed and sat down beside him.

"Apologies, Forna. I hadn't slept in days. When I did, I was dead to the world."

He nodded, eyes on the bottom of his mug. "It's alright. It can't be easy. I'm glad you're feeling settled enough finally to get some rest."

I nodded silently, without elaborating. "So what is expected of me today?"

"They've moved the fight. You're on at second bell." He gulped his tea.

"And what do I fight with?"

He glanced at me. "Presumably, they'll provide you with a sword."

"One of yours, I assume."

He nodded and put his mug down on the table in front of him. "Afraid so. Will that be a problem?"

I shrugged. "Kaelfred didn't seem much of a threat last I saw him."

"He looks that way every night. Don't underestimate him."

I scanned the hall. A few noblewomen sat murmuring at tables while girls in drab dresses tidied up. Where were the men? The barracks, like as not. Meat for the grinder, sent against us time and again.

I looked to Forna. "Presuming I beat him, how should I do it? Quickly or..."

He shrugged. "If you can, make a show of him. Discourage the others. But again, don't underestimate him." 

"Alright. How do I win?"

Confusion crossed his face. "You hit him with the sword."

"But is it first blood or to the death?"

"Damn it, I don't know!" He huffed, clearly done with my questioning him.

I sat up straighter. "Will there be an audience?"

He snorted. "If there's blood to be had, the whole damn castle will be there."

I stretched, rolling my shoulders. "Good."

A couple of hours remained before my duel and

I retrieved Zanael, my blunt practice sword, from my chambers, heading to the princess' gardens to practice my stances and center my mind. It was sure to be helpful, hacking away at my opponent with a one of their crude blades.

The herb-scented air greeted me as soon as I stepped outside. At home, lizards would sun themselves on every rock on a day like this. The pines would weep resin, filling the air with their spicy warmth. No scent had ever made me happier.  

In the orchard, more grass needed cutting, a task for another time. I found the spot where Hinde and I had tangled in passion in the early hours of the morning. I kicked at the grass and dispersed the white dust that had settled there when I had scrubbed the ladies dried back. The grass was still flattened, but that could easily be passed off as theme trampling it during my practice. I drew Zanael and weighed her in my hand. Her balance matched the sharp-edged Zafael, which by now would be back in the Cave of Regrets, where the blade had been kept for all these centuries. There, we gave thanks, and we mourned. And when all else failed, it was there that we armed ourselves to face the inevitable.

I breathed deep, embracing desire, anger, shame--the day's churning emotions--seeking flow.

Like rain falling.