Dishonored: The Empress at Night

Emily honed her concentration down to the finest point she could produce, hoping for the level of control over her skills that would make all this possible; unreliability was core to her magic. It didn't always work as she wanted it to, especially when she really, really wanted it to. The Outsider's magic could be intransigent indeed... but this time, at least, it worked perfectly.

Before Joseph could turn around, the Empress laid her hands on his shoulders, firmly enough to prevent him from moving to look at her. The dark tendrils she summoned this time grew out from the black leather of her belt, thin, thrashing things that twined together into more impressive shafts as they reached out to touch the man. They narrowed where they needed to, slipping into his pants while gossamer thin, before expanding to the perfect size for what they needed to do.

One set spiraled around his left thigh, knotting itself close to his knee before heading upward to cradle his balls and wrap about his shaft. The other entwined itself with his right thigh, making the same pattern but ending up at the other side, slipping between the... generous cheeks of his ass. Emily, the third set of intimate touches, pressed her crotch against Joseph's butt, grinding into it with pressure enough to trigger the mark on the other side of him. It glowed through his pants.

Immediately, he thickened in the tentacle's grip.

'It wasn't a dream,' Emily's voice unrolled to the far corner's of Joseph's mind in a singular, seductive whisper. A sentence, spoken all at once, communication made instantaneous and driven into his cortices like the subtlest, gentlest of fingers, stroking a sensitivity within him he had not known he possessed. He actually whimpered, a need rising in him so fast and so hard he had no way of dealing with it. 'I can see what you're thinking, but it was all very much real, my boy...'

All at once Joseph's cheeks reddened, and Emily could actually feel the heat of them in some far off, scintillating way, the sensations of his body transmitted to her through the throbbing glow at his crotch. His body was at once a solid, physical thing that she held and a ghostly network of second-hand pleasures, sparking in and out of Emily's awareness and knocking her off balance when she least expected it. She found herself leaning on her guard more heavily, just to keep herself upright.

Still though, this did not induce her to stop...

'This is one of the few times I have to myself today, my schedule really is quite booked, so I'd appreciate it if you let me have my fun,' Emily's voice chimed through Joseph's mind once more, amused and hot. His breath hitched in his throat, the tip of her tentacles running lightly along a sensitive spot on the underside of his cock. Emily chuckled, 'Of course, my fun is inevitably your fun too...'

A cool, thin tendril slipped into Joseph's ass, beginning thinly and shallowly, thickening in him by degrees, so that at each point he could grow accustomed to its intrusion. Men of Dunwall could be awfully... limited in their thinking sometimes, and if they could be eased into the fun of it all, so much the better. She took him, then, patiently and gradually, rolling her hips against Joseph's backside until her probing shaft had thickened to what she considered an appropriate girth.

And in his mind, a glittering, taut knot of pleasure, growing tighter by the second...

'Hmmm, you took to that very easily, Joseph...' Emily's voice was regal, filled with brassy command and amused beyond measure. 'Almost as though you'd done this before...'

Then, there were no more words, just the writhing of tentacles and the intensification of power to the mark between the guard's legs. His thighs quivered, and Emily's hands went to them, quick fingers brushing along the outside of his pants, following the indentations of her binding tendrils beneath. Slowly and with care, she stroked upward, jerking and fucking him as she went, listening intently to the panting of his breath and the hitching of his chest beneath her arms.

Sliding deeper into him, tightening her grip on his cock and stroking with serpentine motion, Emily pushed her fingers past his parted lips and into Joseph's mouth. His tongue leapt instantly to attention, running along the pad of her thumb, and in that moment Emily made up her mind about something important.

'Good boy...' she murmured, pouring the words into his mind like the sweetest honey. 'Let it out, it's okay...'

Faster, harder, she attended to her guard, the tip of her tentacle flicking against hidden, interior sensitivities inside Joseph. He shook and shivered against her, eyes staring resolutely ahead, as though afraid that turning to look without permission might break whatever spell his empress was weaving, such that her fondling tendrils might turn to ash in his pants. Emily fucked him in time with the tidal rolling of her hips, her lips brushing gently against the nape of his neck.

She whispered a word in a language that nobody alive spoke, and the crest marked above Joseph's manhood flared like a neon pink star. She could watch, as his mind blanked, subsumed below a pink mist that carried with it a single, unerring impulse. He came.

He came harder than he ever had before.

Breaking the tenuous vow of silence that the two of them had adhered to thus far, Joseph cried out with the sheer sensation of it, the sound deformed by his empress' fingers still in his mouth. It was, all in all, softer than it could have been, certainly not loud enough to attract attention, and for that Emily was thankful. It was she, after all, who was in charge of the stealth of this little endeavor.

And she wished to keep this show all to herself...

The boy writhed in her many-limbed grasp, breathing heavy and hips thrusting forward with every spurt of seed that filled his underwear. Emily pushed into him as deeply as she could, tightening herself around his twitching shaft down near the base; she could see the firing sequences of his orgasm as they happened, twinkling like strange stars in a personal night, and in their telepathic lights she could see where to press and where to relent to prolong and intensify her guard's climax.

He steadied himself on the door in front of him, leaning on it with one arm, as his empress wrung every last orgasmic spasm she could from him. The light on his mark only faded when she was good and ready for it to do so.

When he was finished, in the exact moment that his orgasm subsided, Emily's tentacles dissolved into nothingness, such that only the touch of her hands and the reassuring solidity of her physical body remained in contact with him. Joseph still knew better than to turn around, understood more in that moment than ever before how much of what happened to him now depended on the favor of the empress of Dunwall. He held still, panting around her fingers, until she saw fit to slide them from his mouth and put her hands again to his hips, where her groin remained pressed to his ass.

'Good boy,' she spoke out loud for the first time, her lips still against the back of his neck and feeling very much like the muzzle of a loaded gun right now. 'My chambers, tonight. You'll be on inner chamber duty again but the door will be unlocked and I will be expecting you on the other side of this door. Not that I think you'd object to the invitation, would you?'

'No, Highness,' Joseph felt his voice throb with lust, the words coming thickly, addled. He could muster no more.

'Such dedicated men, my inner guards.' She spanked him once, hard, her hand lingering after the impact and grabbing at his ass. 'See you tonight.'

Joseph did not need to turn around to know that she was gone. ***

Guarding the empress' chambers made one, effectively, a part of Emily's retinue for the day; there was little point in standing watch over an unoccupied room, after all, not when there were outer hall guards for that. Joseph spent the rest of the daylight hours with the empress, once he had taken the time to... recover from their little private dalliance.

It had taken longer than one might think.

Still though, Emily made no move to suggest that anything was out of the ordinary once he had made his way back into the party. Outwardly she was as composed today as any other, a marked difference from how Joseph himself felt; the sneaking suspicion kept welling within him that somebody, everybody could tell what had happened, that the mark hidden beneath his clothes was all too visible.

He spent the day squirming internally, interpreting every sideways glance from his empress as some form of coded message, though not one he was fully or easily able to interpret. Emily gave no overt signal, from her throne or during her works; she was patient and assured of her position, after all. But the mere sight of her on that throne, one leg folded over the other, hands clasped in her lap, after all that she had done to him that night, and earlier in the day...

There was not much she needed to do to fluster him anymore.

Sunset came at once too quickly and after an eternity. The empress worked into the night a little further, each second of it now that they were so close to what they had agreed on a pressure that Joseph could only barely handle. When Emily rose from her throne, clapping her hands together, he almost jumped.

'And now I believe I'll retire for the evening,' she said, with a performative yawn to drive the point home. Going to leave the throne room brought out a gaggle of maidservants and butlers, trailing behind her like the tail of some servile comet. Emily treated them well enough- thank god- but it was clear from the spring in her step that she was eager to be rid of them, to perhaps be alone for the first time since she had left her room at the beginning of the day.

This was an active queen, but she knew what she wanted.

As promised, Joseph had been assigned to the inner door to her chambers that night as well, a fact that his guard captain found irregular; he even apologized for the imposition, the prospect of a normal double shift an exhausting one even to the old man. For Joseph's part, he simply did his best to hide the strange sense of apprehensive glee that had stolen over him from the moment the sun had dipped below the horizon.

The empress was waiting, after all...

He went to her door carefully, each step as silent as he could make it. He approached the threshold itself as though it were a bomb, or the maw of some great beast, ready to lash out. It clicked open at his touch, easily, well oiled; did this feel like putting himself between the teeth of the creature, or as something else entirely?

The latter, Joseph thought, catching sight of Emily Kaldwin upon her bed. Effortlessly the latter.

'Close the door behind you, officer.' Reclining atop her sheets, Emily sat back, propped up on her hands, her ankles crossed before her. Her eyes were cool, amused, not unfriendly. Joseph was welcomed in, hastening to shut the two of them into this strange little world of moonlight and luxury.

He had only ever seen inside this room in occasional glances through the doorway, he had never dreamed of the possibility of actually getting inside it. The grand feature window on the opposite wall (angled in such a way as to make attacks from outside difficult, if not impossible, of course), was aligned perfectly with the rising of the moon, such that a flood of silver light slanted across the thick carpet, illuminating the empress with a witchglow that both displayed her and veiled her in mystery.

Joseph took one step forward, then two, without meaning to. She was deeply, impossibly alluring.

'I believe it is customary to bow before your empress,' Emily said, drawing Joseph closer with a curl of her finger, until he stood in front of her. 'I am your empress, aren't I?'

The idea that this might be in doubt was unthinkable to Joseph. Smiling, he bowed deep, going to one knee before the seated queen. Gently, she tousled his hair, drew his cheek down onto her thigh; this was no act of fealty or servility, not by design. It was a connection, drawn for the first time in true privacy.

'Let it not be said that the empress of Dunwall is not gracious to her most loyal subjects, then...' Her words now came into Joseph's mind, Emily's free hand moving to unbutton the top layers of her coat. There were other layers below, of course; the raiment of an empress tended to be overly complicated to the point of ostentatiousness... but if anyone was to be an expert in removing such things, it was Emily herself.

In no time at all, a strip of pale skin could be seen between the separated buttons. Emily shouldered her coat off, revealing a body banded in wiry muscle, a thin and distinctly leonine body. She only wore underwear on her lower half, breasts small enough that they didn't require a bra; letting her coat fall to the bed, she sat before Joseph unguarded, unconcerned in her nudity.

She regarded him with level eyes, the barest corners of her mouth turning up in a smile.

'You let me put my mark on you, so I think I shall thank you,' her thoughtvoice whispered. 'I rarely get a chance to apply my powers without all the cloak and dagger. Let me show you something I've been toying with...'

She gestured into the air, her fingers dancing through a series of symbols that Joseph couldn't follow. Shadows deepened, new figures breaking off from them and approaching Joseph's kneeling form. Beneath him, his own shadow disgorged a distinctly feminine form, rising into three-dimensionality from the carpet. There were three of them, and all of them were Emily, doppelgangers that pressed themselves against him with all the warmth and humanity of the real thing.

He was straddling one of them, and it was this one that began to undo his pants.

Emily- the real Emily- stroked along Joseph's cheek, drawing him in as the pair of duplicates that had come beside Joseph busied themselves undoing her trousers and pulling them down. They came together, his mouth and her now bared pussy, like a key to a lock. The taste of her, that royal wetness, was clean and sweet, all-consuming.

The cloned Emily's cooed along with their creator, and the one below Joseph rewarded him his attentions by slipping his dick into the warm, wet confines of her mouth; a sensation familiar from the night before, but far more gentle now. Less... hurried.

'Entertaining trick, isn't it?' The empress spoke with her mind and moaned with her mouth, the sounds of her lust a low, quiet backing track to her telepathic speech. Her fingers wound through Joseph's hair, holding his head between her toned, pale thighs, as her duplicate bobbed between his own. 'I have another. This one is called Domino.'

She cast the spell, linking herself to Joseph through a chain of her own doppelgangers, applying Domino to pleasure instead of pain for the first time. The effect was... different, tidal. The sensations of his tongue against her clit passed down the line, washing from one of herself to the next with only the most minute of delays, until they hit Joseph at the other end and his pleasure doubled.

And of course, his pleasure rebounded back at her, enough to make her knees shake and her cheeks to go red.

This had been a good idea. Emily couldn't even imagine what it would be like when one of them finally came like this...

'Enjoy it, young man... ahn!' Emily spoke out loud, her voice rising to a yelp as Joseph's tongue hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. He looked up at her, blushing furiously and rocking his hips into her duplicate's mouth. 'We have a long night ahead of us...'