Drowning at Dusk Ch. 07 - Finale

Terakh laughed and settled between Xelari's tensing legs. His cock had flagged only slightly after his climax; he stroked it slowly and I marveled at the sight of my moisture intermixed with the droplets of his seed.

Little muffled moans thrummed against my folds as Xelari slurped and licked at the mess that dripped out of me. I leaned my head back and laughed at the depravity of those sensations, at the wicked probing of her tongue, and at the desperate whimpers she let out when Terakh grazed the tip of his shaft over her folds.

"Think she's earned it yet?" Terakh growled at me.

"Only if she makes me come."

I tilted forward a little and Xelari leaned up to more eagerly suckle at my clit. My shaking hand reached out, stroking Terakh's impressive shaft.

"The sooner you make her scream, Xelari, the sooner you get my cock."

She whimpered against me and bucked her hips in a desperate, silent invitation for the orc to take her. Instead he chuckled and raked his fingers along her soft thigh. The cruel teasing, however, inspired the dusk elf to redouble her efforts. Her lips suckled all the more intently and that tongue worked into a frenzy, lashing against me so quickly and so firmly that my eyes rolled back into my head. Biting my lower lip, I let out a few soft moans and ground my sex down against her. I rewarded her by reaching down and grasping her right breast.

My vision turned hazy and Terakh faded from view. The muscles in my neck went taut and I hissed with triumphant glee as my climax struck. It was short and sweet, leaving me shuddering and breathless above her. I rocked my hips against her mouth, drawing those embers of bliss out for a few moments before finally I gave Terakh an approving nod.

"You may use her," I said, doing my best imitation of Xelari's domineering tone.

I lifted my hips a little to allow Xelari to catch her breath, but I also wanted to hear that beautiful voice cry out when Terakh shoved himself within her. Reaching down, I gently rubbed against her clit before helping to guide that thick cock into that wondrous pussy I'd enjoyed so many times.

Terakh let out a relieved sigh as he finally claimed what he'd craved for so long. I murmured with hunger at the sight of her body embracing him without any hesitation. Crying out with delight, Xelari's soft legs rose and wrapped around the orc's strong hips.

"Worth the wait?" I purred.

"Gods, yes." He leaned his head back and moaned, then gripped the underside of her knees to tilt her legs upwards, altering the angle and inciting another cry from the dusk elf.

I silenced that cry by sinking my hips back down. No doubt overwhelmed with the sensation of his cock inside of her, it took her a moment or two to collect herself so she could return to pleasuring me. But once Terakh settled into a fast, steady rhythm, she managed to find a rhythm of her own, tonguing and suckling with all the precision she'd deployed a few minutes before.

Eager to reward Xelari for her obedience, I reached down and toyed with her clit while Terakh fucked her. I shuddered at the way her body rocked and writhed beneath me.

For a few moments, the wicked spectacle distracted me from the rising tension in my core. The cold, domineering, powerful woman who had turned Terakh and I into her playthings in the past had now been reduced to a toy for us.

It wasn't weakness, though. As her muffled moans crested higher, I realized that there was power in that sort of submission. Her past, cruel domination now made her subservience so enjoyable.

Even though she was bound and helpless, the two of us were still her toys. Those soft whimpers and pleading little moans were just another means to control us.

I shivered at the thought, loving the invisible chains she had wrapped around me.

Returning my focus to the wondrous attention she paid to my body, I moved one hand down to firmly grope her breast, while the other continued to play with her sex. My pace faltered a bit when she locked her lips around my clit and lashed me with a series of rapid, firm little strokes with her tongue. Sobbing, I dragged my gaze from her heaving breasts up so I could meet Terakh's fierce red eyes.

"Close?"

Most men probably wouldn't have been able to finish again so soon after a climax, but Xelari had a way of inspiring a certain stamina in her lovers.

"Aye."

He growled and reached out to firmly grip her other breast. The bed rocked and creaked beneath us.

"Together?"

"Absolutely."

As I squirmed and writhed, my left leg had gotten close enough to Xelari's bound hand that she managed to grip my ankle with her shaky fingers. Moaning and licking fervently, she gave me skin a gentle tap.

And then again, a bit faster. I realized that her hips were bucking and rocking at the exact same pace as her fingers. Terakh was reacting accordingly: his growls grew more intense in response to those movements.

Gods, even though she was bound and helpless she was practically counting us down, guiding our bodies towards our shared climax. Her tongue matched the pace of those taps and the rocking of her hips, her entire body serving as a signal, a guide.

I whimpered out her name and she hummed against me. Terakh growled out her name as well, his voice thick with hunger and lustful fury.

The tapping intensified, and Xelari rocked off the bed to meet each of Terakh's thrusts. The orc took in a deep breath and let loose a soft, raspy moan. I watched, enraptured, as those impressive muscles tensed. Xelari squealed triumphantly at the first surge of his seed.

I lost control.

I managed to keep my fingers against her sex, dragging Xelari towards her peak as Terakh and I both came, but I had no control whatsoever over the rest of my body. My head thrashed back and forth, my hips rocked and writhed in a frenzied rhythm, grinding desperately down upon her face. My fingers dug into her breast, leaving cruel red marks upon her violet-gray skin. My moans turned into heavy, burning gasps and my eyes twitched. The room around me shifted to a dark, hazy blur.

As Terakh slowed, my arms went limp and I collapsed backwards off of Xelari, thudding into the headboard. I barely noted the faint burst of pain at the impact and flopped in a twitching heap beside the bound, giggling dusk elf.

The orc slipped out of her, pulled back a bit, and then collapsed, resting his head against Xelari's heaving, sweaty breasts.

"Fuck," I said, whimpering and gasping in the afterglow. After another deep breath I reached out to undo the bindings. "How did you...how did you do that?"

"Do what?" she asked, with an innocence to her tone that was downright laughable given the moisture coating her lips and the seed leaking from her sex.

"Maintain control like that."

"Who says I was in control?"

"Come on. That tapping, that rhythm you made, guiding us towards our climax. That was all you."

"Nonsense. That was us."

Terakh snorted, rolled off of her, and shuffled across the room for a drink of wine from his flask.

"Us?" he repeated.

"Yes. Us. Power, submission, domination, control, subservience. It's a shared experience. When the moment is right, the powerless and powerful are one. Master and slave become entwined." She met my eyes and licked her lips. "Take, for example, a storm. There are many elements to it. Wind, thunder, lightning, rain. Distinct, yes, but all part of a greater whole. So it is with the lustful ways of the dusk elves."

"I don't know how your people ever get anything done," Terakh said.

"We live long lives. Gives us plenty of time for these sorts of games."

Xelari raised herself up and ran her fingers up and down my neck, then looked to Terakh.

"Thank you both. I needed that."

"So did I," the orc muttered. "Been waiting for a chance to get between those legs for months."

I laughed, leaning forward to give the orc a slow, soft kiss, before turning to Xelari to give her the same.

"The night's still young," I murmured, my hungry gaze flitting between them both. "And there are still more games to play..."

**

I breathed in deep the aroma of the enchanted trees. The lovely scent was almost enough to make me forget that I was marching off to my potential death.

The long column of soldiers and horses stretched for more than a mile out of Arkostead's northern gate. Countless citizens had gathered to watch us depart, with some tossing flowers at the soldiers or offering prayers to the gods to watch over us.

Our little band made up the rearguard alongside a contingent of infantry and another mercenary company.

Given the size of the host and our pace, it would take us perhaps three days to reach the crossing that Synrik had taken.

Three days. Three long, boring, grueling days of slogging along that road.

"Gods," I said, letting out a groan. "War is bloody boring isn't it?"

"We're barely a mile out of the city, and you're already complaining?" Kivessen shot back, grinning.

"That's war for you," Varanthir said. "Long stretches of dull tedium, punctuated by moments of terror and frenzy. Enjoy the boredom while it lasts, Esharyn."

"I'd much rather be enjoying something else," I murmured under my breath, glancing over at Xelari and giving her a long, simmering look. If only we had large, comfortable wagons to convey us to the battle, we could have stolen away for a bit of fun...

Xelari met my eyes and mirrored my admiring glance.

Our mutual lust must have been quite obvious, for several of the mercenaries laughed.

"If you two want to run off for a snog in the bushes, be my guest," said Varanthir. "Just make sure you double-time it back to the column once you're done."

"Tempting as it is, I think we'll be dutiful little soldiers," I said, laughing.

"For now," said Xelari, eyes twinkling.

I laughed again. My amusement and her hungry stare fended off the rising dread.

At least for a little while.

In the end, Xelari and I proved to be too responsible to sneak off for a tryst in the woods, and we trudged along with the others. The army halted before dusk, erecting a fortified camp within an hour, with Heroth organizing patrols to sweep the surrounding countryside for potential threats. Out of a mixture of wariness and boredom, Terakh and I joined one of those patrols: we ranged out until nearly midnight and found nothing, then returned to join the others.

Xelari and I were both too exhausted to do anything but share a quick kiss before retiring to our tent. Together we rose to face the chilly morning. We huddled around a fire alongside Terakh, Dazyar, and the Tombflayers. The bard warmed us up with an enchanted song, while Terakh prepared what he described as a traditional orcish 'battle-stew' made from vegetables, mushrooms, and snake meat.

It turned out to be halfway decent, though my enjoyment of the hearty meal was interrupted by the arrival of four red-cloaked knights.

"Xelari, Esharyn," one of the new arrivals said. "His lordship requests your presence." He wrinkled his nose at the unusual stew. "At once."

We slurped down our stew as we followed the knights to Heroth's imposing black tent, surrounded by a ring of knights and battlemages.

Within, two squires helped the Lord-Protector into his gleaming red plate armor. On the table behind him was a map covered in arrows and little symbols, over which loomed three other officers and knights.

"Good morning, my ladies," Heroth said, his voice so courtly and respectful that I almost felt the need to curtsy.

"'My ladies?'" Xelari repeated. "Is there a reason for such polite deference?"

"Everyone is due basic respect," he said, adjusting the straps as his squires stepped away. "Especially when I have a grim and ugly task to ask of you."

Heroth approached the map and gestured to the forest and the village of Neshar's Helm, where Varanthir had worried Synrik might have prepared a flanking maneuver.

"I've decided to heed your warning about a potential flanking attack, though I dare not commit my full host into that forest."

"Would be foolish to," said one of the knights. "Difficult to coordinate such large numbers in that sort of terrain and our confused forces could be picked off."

"So we're making a more precise deployment. A smaller mounted force to push to Neshar's Helm, scout through the forest, and confirm the presence of any undead forces. Hopefully such a move will throw off their intended flanking maneuver, and force them to adjust."

"Or it could result in the slaughter of the scouting force, if Synrik's main host is indeed hidden in the woods," Xelari said icily, her glare twitching back and forth between the map and Heroth.

"That is why the scouting force will consist of my army's finest scouts and outriders. Warriors who can hit hard, and retreat back to the main army, without a repeat of the last debacle," Heroth continued. "Given your experience in similar terrain in the Wildwood and your expertise in dealing with the undead, I would like you and your companions to be among the scouting force."

From a tactical viewpoint, it certainly made sense. Moreover, we were expendable from Heroth's perspective and our deaths in the woods would buy time for his scouts to warn the rest of the army.

Of course it also gave us a chance to strike Synrik where it really hurt, before he could put his plan into motion.

"I'm in," I said with a firm nod.

"As am I," Xelari said, wrinkling her nose. "Despite the dreadful risks of the plan."

"This is war: all tasks carry dreadful risks. A man can die simply taking a stroll out to relieve himself." Heroth nodded at one of the officers: a short, wiry man with a bald head and two neat little scars beneath his left eye. "This is Sir Orlac. My finest scout. He will command the contingent."

"Well met," Orlac said with a nod and a friendly smile. "Might be my first time teaming up with an assassin and an undead-hunter, but unusual wars make for unusual allies. Come along. We'll go fetch your companions and get you all set with horses and supplies for our ride into the woods."

Heroth bade us farewell and we followed Orlac back out into the camp. I didn't exactly relish being under the command of a stranger and one of Heroth's knights, but I'd certainly feel safer accompanied by band of well-honed scouts out in that unfamiliar forest.

After returning to our companions at the cookfire and making the introductions, Orlac led us over to the other scouts and outriders. They were more lightly-armored than the knights, a bit rougher and wilder than most of Heroth's other troops.

Such men would certainly make for better company than prim and proper knights.

Within moments, the Tombflayers were joking and bantering with the scouts. Kivessen in particular made fast friends with a few after complimenting their horses and saddles. Before long we were given spare mounts and supplies for our trek into the woods.

"This here is Torment," said a scout, handing me the reins of a tall, sleek, black horse that was missing large patches of hair upon its face.

"Torment?" I asked, laughing and taking the reins before gently running a hand over its flank. "Odd name for a horse. What's the story behind it?"

"No bloody idea," the scout said with a laugh of his own. "But Torment's no torment to ride, that's for sure. A damned fine steed."

With a grunt, I swung myself up into the saddle, patted Torment's neck, and allowed the big beast to adjust.

Once we were all mounted and organized into neat little squadrons, Orlac led the way out of camp. Cheers rose from some of those left behind, while others watched us with envy, pity or dread.

"Applause is fitting," growled Terakh. "We're the ones riding out to save their skins from getting an undead horde up their backsides, after all."

"Just think about all the drinks they'll buy for you once this plan pays off," I said, grinning at him.

"And the army has its share of pretty women among its ranks, too," said Kivessen, his laughter echoing over the thundering of hooves. "They'll be mighty grateful, I imagine."

Terakh chuckled under his breath at that.

Our swift ride through the forest proved to be far less boring than our dreary march along the road. The woods weren't quite as untamed as the Wildwood but the forest still teemed with life: wandering elk, colorful songbirds, hooting owls, and scampering squirrels. The howls of distant wolves echoed through the trees.

"A good omen," Kivessen said as the last of those howls faded. "Our hunt has been blessed by the spirits and gods of the wild."

"We don't need the blessings of the gods," Xelari said. "We have our steel, our sorcery, and our sheer force of will. That will be enough."

**

Silence reigned in Neshar's Helm. During our journey through the forest, the darker parts of my imagination had envisioned a bloody slaughter at the little village, its people shredded by Synrik's horde. The more optimistic side of me had hoped to find an intact little town, blissfully unaware of the undead threat lurking in the forest.

Instead, we found nobody at all. No guards in the watchtower, no smiths working the forge, no drunks in the tavern, no stable-hands tending to horses. Not a soul.

"First squadron," Sir Orlac said, casting a wary glance at the eerily quiet buildings. "Move north, secure the road. Second squadron, sweep to the east. Third: take the west. Fourth: hold the southern road. The rest of you, dismount and sweep the town for survivors or foes."

After dismounting, I drew my blade and gave Torment a reassuring pat on the neck. Xelari prepared her runestone, Dazyar plucked a few strings on the fiddle to warm up his runes, and the Tombflayers prepared their own weapons.

Slow and cautious, we advanced into the village. Nearly every door had been broken or smashed in and most of the structures showed clear signs of struggle: overturned furniture, splashes of blood. Rats picked at bread left out upon the tables of several homes. Flies buzzed around half-empty bowls of stew in the tavern.

No sign at all of anyone.

Every poor soul within that village had likely been killed and conscripted into Synrik's host.

We gathered in the village square, our faces grim but our resolve strengthened.

"Ugly as this discovery is, at least it confirms an undead presence in the forest," Sir Orlac said with a sigh. "And given the state of the food, I'd guess a little over two days since the attack."

"We saw no tracks heading from here to the road," said Kivessen. "My assumption: Synrik's raiders hit this town from the north, killed the villagers to use them for his army, and then retreated northward. They're probably hitting every farm and hamlet in this forest to strengthen their numbers."

"Go sweep the northern edges of the village for tracks to confirm," Orlac ordered.

The meadow elf nodded and ran off, while Dazyar wandered into a stone tower which had served as the village's council hall. He returned with several scrolls and a frown on his face.

"Fifty-one residents here, if these tax records are correct," he said with a somber sigh. "That's not counting anyone who might have lived in the woods beyond the outskirts or on their own out in the wilds, though."

Kivessen trotted back a few moments later.

"Tracks. Of horses and men alike. And definitely ghouls and barrow-walkers, too. All heading north."

Orlac nodded at one of his subordinates.

"Take a band of five, ride on back to the column to report what we've found. The rest of you: take ten minutes to rest up and tend to your horses, then we ride north."

Xelari crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the silent village.

"This place is a monument to our failures. Had we stopped Synrik at Pyrewatch, this-"

"Stop with that nonsense," Terakh growled. "I was at Amberkeep, I saw the army they had and the other death mages. If you'd killed Synrik earlier, some other bastard would be the one leading the undead down here."