Half-Elf Harlot Ch. 03

"Like this?"

"Yes, please..."

"You're too much," he whispered. "And I can't get enough of you." His hand slid down between her legs and held her by the cunt, which ached beneath his touch.

"I'm not going to fuck this part of you here, because it's very awful down here and I have standards. But I'll make you want me to, I promise."

Zelia groaned with pleasure, and her metal-encased hands landed with a dull clink on the stone floor as she relaxed under her lover's touch. He squeezed her ass cheeks once or twice more, drew back, and she had just enough time to savour the anticipation before she felt the sharp, sweet slap of his bare hand against her quivering flesh.

She cried out, and he spanked her a second and a third time. Each blow alone was none too hard, but as he hit her she could feel herself begin to sink into a trance of pleasure, waiting wildly for the next impact to fall.

"You're going to bring that guard back down here if you keep making all that that noise," Ignatius warned. "Be quiet, or I'll have to stop."

"Mmm," she moaned, doing her best to stifle her sounds of pleasure. "Please, don't stop."

He was restricted by the manacles around his wrists that forced him to swing both his hands together, and by needing to be careful of her injuries, but Ignatius worked her over with a steadily increasing intensity, transmuting pleasure into pain and back again as Zelia arched her back and strained with need toward his touch.

She forgot about her jaw, her stomach, her predicament of almost certain doom and soared above the crashing waves of sharp sensation as he beat her lovingly until she was red and tender.

"Remember," he said, pausing at one point to place a hot hand over her hungry cunt once more, "I won't give you anything in here until we get out, and you agree to go out on a second date with me. That's a promise."

The sound of his voice, warm and rich with his desire, brought her almost to the edge, and when he took his hand to her again she came with explosive force, surrendering to a full-body orgasm that rocked through her like a thunder wave.

"Ok," she said, nearly insensible, tsunamis of emotion roiling through her body in the ecstasy of release. "Ok, ok, ok, ok, ok..."

Ignatius gathered her up onto his chest and she nestled into him, inhaling his scent, letting herself be held.

"Ok, I'll go out with you," she said, her voice thick with tears and snot as she burrowed her face into his shoulder.

He wrapped his long arms tight around her.

"Yesss," he said quietly, and she giggled.

She had lost all track of time, but by the silence of the lonely hall that stretched away from the cell door, it felt like hours had passed. Pleasure-drunk, Zelia closed her eyes and began to doze against the gentle rise and fall of Ignatius's chest.

He shook her gently by the shoulder.

"Don't you go to sleep yet, Zelia. I'm not finished with you."

"Really? Oh—oh yeah, uh, I don't think I can blow you right now, sorry. My jaw."

"Mm-hm, but on the other hand my jaw's working just fine."

"Oh, really," Zelia said, lifting up her head, still dreamy from the spankings.

"I want my mouth on you."

Negotiating their iron handicaps, Ignatius slid Zelia's pants down around her ankles and hoisted her up, resting her knees on his shoulders. She hooked her arms around a piece of rebar jutting out of the wall above his head to steady herself and he held her by the hips, groaning with pleasure as he sank his mouth into her delicate, hot folds.

"Best. Day. Ever." Zelia breathed, letting her head loll back as he licked and sucked her well-pleased cunt.

At the cell door, the sound of a throat being loudly cleared caused both of them to pause and crane their necks to see who was there.

Standing at the door, which as they watched swung open with a loud creak on its rusty hinges, was Amara, holding up a massive ring of keys. Behind her, Alessa hefted her trusty warhammer, dripping with gore, over one shoulder.

Amara put her hands on her hips.

"Honestly, should we just come back later?"

Zelia hopped awkwardly down from Ignatius's shoulders, stumbling as she tried to pull back up her pants.

"No, no! Now is good! See, what did I tell you," she said, turning to Ignatius.

"Let me never doubt the three of you again," he said, faint wonder in his voice.

Amara hurried into the room and began drawing arcane symbols on the floor with a piece of chalk. Alessa walked over to Ignatius, swinging the heavy hammer into her palm.

"You'll want to move as far away from the wall as you can," she said matter-of-factly, and he scrambled aside as she brought her hammer down on the place where his shackles were bolted into the wall, busting the link with one mighty blow.

"Gods, I love the way you wield that hammer," Ignatius said, admiringly. "We must have a rematch some day, you and I."

Alessa's smile was visible beneath her helmet.

"If you're ready to lose in one round again, sure."

"Ok, we're good to go," called Amara, and Zelia turned to see the glowing portal that had opened up in mid-air, its edges shimmering with arcane energy. Through the portal was a familiar below-ground chamber of Warsong Keep.

Amara waved them through, but Zelia stopped at the threshold.

"Wait! I need to do one quick thing first. Can I borrow that chalk for a second?"

Amara looked at the chalk she held in her hand.

"Um, this is actually special chalk for spellcasting, it's really expensive..."

"Whatever, we have lots of money. Come on, just give it to me!"

Zelia lunged after the chalk, failing miserably to grab it with her iron-covered hands.

"Never mind, just put it in my teeth. Here," Zelia opened her mouth wide, staring expectantly at Amara, who looked unconvinced.

"Do you just want to tell me what you want to do with it then, and I'll hold the chalk?"

"Uh-uh. Gotta do it myself."

"Just let her do it so we can go," called Alessa, standing one foot through the portal.

A minute later, the last of them stepped though the portal and it winked out of existence.

Scrawled on the cell wall, in what looked to be the hand of a drunk toddler, were the words,

"FUCK YOU, MERSK!"