Iram Draconis Ch. 01

***This is my unabashedly, un-shameful, exploitative, non-romantic story of a warlord and his struggles. Full disclosure; this story is hyper-violent and hyper-sexualized. There is no romance to be found here, so if you want it, look somewhere else.

This is a fantasy, and that being said, I do NOT ENCOURAGE any of the behavior depicted here. There are strong themes of non-consent/reluctance and the glorification of violence. All participants of sexual acts (and there are plenty) are all over 18 years of age.

The following sexual themes will be featured: anything is open (leave suggestions!)

I am writing this for the fun of it, and also as an attempt to write from a 'villain' or 'bad-guy's' perspective.

Leave comments/suggestions

-Shameless_Writer ***

CHAPTER ONE: THE PRIESTESS

I stood above the woman, shirtless and bleeding from where her knife had cut me across the rib cage. The wound would need stitches, but I would have to attend to it later; there was important business to attend to, and I was losing daylight.

"Can you stand?" I asked the woman, whose white dress had been cut up so badly that it hung off her body in ribbons.

She nodded, and pushed herself off of the stone-paved street of the town, staring at me with dark blue eyes from behind a mess of red hair that had fallen into disarray during our fight. She said nothing to me, just stood in the remains of what had once been her village and awaited my next words.

"You remember our agreement?" I asked, "You kill me, I let you go."

The woman continued to stare as I laughed at my own dark sense of humor. It had been her, with a small golden knife, against me, with nothing but my bare hands; she hadn't stood a chance in hell.

Raising two fingers, I beckoned two soldiers who were standing nearby to come over. They did so without hesitation, standing at attention by my side, awaiting my order.

"Take her to magistrate's house," I instructed, "Prepare her for me. And remember," I snapped, freezing the solders' looks of malicious glee halfway through their conception, "You may only look; do not touch."

The soldiers nodded, and moved swiftly to grab the woman, dragging her off down the road.

With the town's priestess taken care of, I surveyed the town once again to gain my bearings. The sky was becoming a deep purple as the last of the sun's rays sunk behind the houses of the town, but the fires burning near the center of the village were illuminating the street I was standing on, making it easier to see.

To my right, the white marble temple loomed high over the surrounding shops and domiciles. I had found the priestess inside, and had struck up our deal when she had pulled a knife on me in an attempt to protect its treasures. Soldiers, with bare chests glimmering with sweat and blood, were now running in and out of the temple, looting it of its riches.

Most of the townspeople were dead by their hand, and the survivors were being herded to the town's center, where the men would be killed and the woman would be distributed among my soldiers. Children would be left alive along with the elderly; we were warriors, not savages.

I walked down the street, toward the fires, following their glow and ignoring the villagers and soldiers running along either side of the road. My boots made a hollow sound on the stones and my sword clinked quietly from where it hung at my side from a belt that held up my black pants, loose in the leg and pleasantly cool in the heat of the summer.

My soldiers were dressed similarly to me, except their pants were dark brown, and their swords less ornate. Here and there I spotted officers. They did not wear the same simple uniforms as the soldiers or myself, and had decorative tunics that indicated their rank. But there was no mistake who was in charge; I was the one with the dragon after all.

When I reached the center of the town, I noted the small group of women currently being fought over and the other, slightly larger group of men who all stood with their heads down, awaiting their execution.

Between the two groups was a giant metal statue of a gallant-looking man atop a fearsome dragon. He was dressed in armor from head to toe and his dragon's wings were outstretched in a regal position, its jaws wide open, showcasing rows of sharp teeth.

King Draconem: the dragon-king and ruler from the mountains to the western sea. For now.

Beneath the edifice, a circle of fires had been built and lit using wood from some of the village's buildings. The flames were already quite large and getting bigger, licking the feet of the statue and turning the iron an angry red. Eventually the metal would get white-hot and the statue would begin to buckle under its own weight, collapsing on top of the fires and destroying the visage of the king in the process.

Smirking at soon-to-be ruined statue, I walked around it and continued down the main road on the other side of the town square. This side was less crowded with soldiers and people, and it followed the gentle rise of a hill, which ended in the large, luxurious house of the town's magistrate.

It took another few moments to scale the hill, and when I finally reached the stone wall of the house, two guards were there to meet me.

"Is he inside?" I asked one.

"Yes, sir. We found him trying to escape, but we've since secured him," the guard answered.

"Good," I said, "You are dismissed. Enjoy the celebration while you can, we march again in a few days."

The guards glanced at each other before hurrying down the hill to the village to join their comrades.

Pushing through the gate, I walked up the steps of the large stone house and went through the open front door and into the foyer. It was dimly lit inside, most of the candles and lanterns had been blown out, but I could see a light to my left so I followed it, walking across the foyer and down a side hallway which ended in a spacious seating area. Shelves of expensive books lined the walls and an array of couches and chairs were scattered tastefully around the room.

The large fireplace had been lit and I grinned at the sight the flames revealed.

Standing between two guards was the priestess, whose tattered dress had been graciously removed from her body, leaving her naked and exposed. The light of the fire danced sensuously across her pale skin which still glistened with sweat. I noticed that she was completely shaved between her thighs and although she held her legs shut tight, I could make out the tight slit that ran between them. Taught pink nipples stood proudly out from large, round breasts and her face was flushed red with embarrassment, though her eyes still shone as defiantly as they had earlier.

"Thank you, men," I told the two soldiers, "Now take her to the main bedchambers and wait for me there."

The priestess made a startled sound of protest as she was carried away down the hallway, leaving me alone with the second sight that had made me smile.

On the ground, tied up and looking very bloody was the magistrate; a fat, balding man whose left eye was currently swelled up to the size of an orange. Apparently my guards had not taken too kindly to the man's escape attempt and had reminded him not to try it again.

Pulling up one of the many chairs in the room, I took a seat in front of the magistrate. "Do you know who I am?" I asked, running my hand through my short auburn hair and wincing at the pain in my side; I had forgotten about the wound the priestess had inflicted.

The magistrate turned his head to look up at me and shook his head once, his one open eye wide with fear.

"Do you see how I am dressed?" I asked, spreading my arms so he could get a better look at me, "Any guesses?"

He stared at me for a moment, his good eye roaming over my body before saying, "You are from the desert."

"That's right," I nodded, "What else?"

"The mark," the magistrate swallowed, "On your chest. It signifies your class. Though I'm not sure what this one means. It has been a long time since I studied your people."

I looked down at the black symbol tattooed on my left pectoral, "It means merchant class," I said, "Though I don't look like a merchant, do I?"

"No," the magistrate said, sounding close to tears, "You do not."

"I look more like a warrior, yes?" I asked, leaning forward in the chair and resting my right elbow on my knee so he could get a closer look at the mark that encircled my bicep. It was black, and depicted a serpentine dragon wrapping itself around my arm.

"Impossible," the merchant hissed, attempting to sit up but falling back down in the process, "You cannot be."

As if to answer his question, a mighty roar reverberated through the sitting room from somewhere outside. A smaller, weaker roar answered but was cut off abruptly following the unusually loud sound of breaking bone.

I looked back down at the magistrate, "Your dragon is dead, and with it your rule," I stood, "You were right; my name is Ignatius and I have come north out of the desert. Within a few weeks, I will march into the king's mountain city, where I will kill him and claim his kingdom as my own."

The magistrate just stared at me, and I could see the disbelief in his eyes at the thought of someone so low as I killing a king. But it didn't matter if he believed me. I reached for the sword at my side and drew it, pointing the tip at the man's throat.

"You understand why you must die?" I said, more of a statement than a question.

Resignation quickly replaced disbelief as the magistrate remembered his oath to the town he had sworn to defend. "Failure to protect one's dragon is failure to protect one's people," he quoted, closing his eye before choking on my blade as I plunged it into his neck. Blood spurted from the wound and splashed white hot against my skin. More pooled along the floor, flowing around my boots as it spread.

I pulled my blade from the magistrate's body and turned on my heel, walking out of the room, leaving bloody footprints in my wake. Back in the foyer, I found a number of my officers had started to arrive and some candles had been relit. Grabbing a passing servant, I handed him my sword and told him to fetch a medic for my wound. I was eager to get it sown up so I could pay my guest a visit before her guards got too impatient with her.

While I waited, I spoke to a few of the officers, informing them of my plan to stay in the town to regroup and recuperate while we charted our next move. Most of them were quick to agree, with a few grumbles from the younger officers of how slow we were moving. I ignored the latter group and was happy to see the medic, Nano, an old, but lively woman, arrive with needle and thread.

"Who gave you this one, Ignatius?" she asked, cleaning the area around the wound.

"A priestess," I said, "She was so beautiful I couldn't keep my distance and she got in a lucky shot."

"Such a charmer," Nano tsked as she sewed me up.

I laughed, "She thought so. She's waiting for me in my room right now."

Nano gave me a reproachful look before finishing the job, "I've got more wounds to attend to, my Lord. You take it easy on yourself...and that girl."

"We'll see," I grinned, standing up, "And thank you."

She nodded before pushing her way through the growing crowd of officers and out the front door.

All fixed up, I made my own way to the single set of stairs that led to the second story and began climbing them. There was only one room on this floor, and it was the master's bedchambers; so I would not be disturbed.

At the top of the stairs, I pushed open one of the bedchamber's double doors and entered the well-lit room before closing it behind me. Ten feet directly in front of me was a large, four post bed big enough for five people. Chained to one of the posts, with her arms high above her head, was the priestess, still as gloriously naked as before, except now her legs were spread apart, held in place by an iron bar secured around each ankle, revealing her shaved sex.

"I only need one of you," I told the soldiers who had brought her up, and were standing side by side in one corner of the room. "You," I pointed to the one on the left, who had black hair shaved close to his head and the mark of a blacksmith on his chest. The other soldier left the room in a hurry, looking put-out.

"Come here," I ordered and the young soldier stepped forward, trying to keep a straight face, but I could see the traces of a smile at the corners of his mouth, "Make her wet for me."

It was a simple-enough command and the soldier eagerly nodded and approached the priestess, who looked horrified as the man knelt before her and grabbed her thighs tightly.

"Relax, priestess," I said, finding a chair and taking a seat, "You will enjoy this."

She gasped out loud as the solder's tongue snaked out and ran up her slit in one, slow motion.

"Have you ever been used by a man this way before?" I asked, listening to the soft suckling sounds as the soldier began to eat her cunt out in more earnest.

She remained silent, and the soldier pulled her thighs closer, pressing her pussy closer to his face. The priestess let out a half gasp, half moan, but made no move to answer my question.

"Stop," I ordered and the soldier sat back on his heels, facing me. I could see the priestess' sex glimmering in the firelight, wet from saliva and what was surely her own arousal. She stared at me, swallowing loudly and trying not to look at the soldier.

"You will speak when I ask you a question," I warned, "Or you will find this experience much less enjoyable."

The priestess nodded once, shifting her feet uncomfortably in the iron spreader.

"Continue," I told the soldier, and he returned to his position in front of the priestess. Within seconds he had her squirming against her restraints. "Now I will ask you again; have you ever had a man use you this way?"

"My goddess for-," she moaned, "-bids it."

I chuckled, "Of course she does. But surely that has not stopped you from desiring such attentions? And you will address me as 'My Lord' from now on."

"Y-yes, my Lord," the priestess stammered, "And I desire what all women desire, but have learned to deny myself in service of my goddess." There was still a touch of defiance in her voice, despite her position and the pleasure she was obviously experiencing, but it was slowly giving way to the husky tones of pleasure.

I stood and came forward to get a better view. Standing two feet from the couple I said, "I can smell your cunt," smiling I continued, "It's saturating the air. And look at you," I leaned forward, "You're dripping all down my soldier's chin."

It was true; the sweetly pungent odor of her cum filled my nostrils with each breath, and I could see, as well as hear, how wet she was.

"So much denial has turned you into the perfect little whore, hasn't it?" I said, feeling my cock begin to swell inside my pants at the thought of fucking her now properly dripping pussy.

"N-no," the priestess moaned, "It hasn't."

"Stop."

The soldier tore his face away from her cunt. His chin was covered with her cum and it ran down his neck and chest in small rivulets, leaving thin wet trails.

"Stand."

He did, and I noticed the sizable erection tenting his pants.

The priestess stood there, flushed and sweating, her pussy releasing juices all down her thighs. Her outer lips were red and flushed and I could see her clit peeking out from its hood, swollen with blood and red with arousal.

"It hasn't?" I asked her angrily, stepping forward to stand inches from her heaving chest. Heat radiated off her body and I could feel it prickle my own flesh, "So perhaps we should just leave? And let you hang here? Maybe your goddess will set you free."

The priestess would not look at me, so I grabbed her chin roughly and forced her to do so.

"What is your name?" I demanded.

"C-caela," she stammered, quickly adding, "My Lord."

"Would you like us to leave, Caela?" I asked, "And choose your answer carefully."

There was a pause before she said softly, "No, my Lord."

"That's what I thought," I released her and addressed the soldier, "Unchain her and lie her down on the bed."

Moving swiftly, the soldier did as he was told, releasing Caela's wrists from above her head and then taking off the spreader bar between her legs. Next he guided her with shaky feet to the large bed, indicating that she should lie on her back.

The priestess did all this without protest, laying down stiffly with her hands balled into fists at her side.

"Remove your pants," I told the soldier, "Let her know what a man's cock feels like against her cunt. But do not penetrate her. I will be right back."

I turned and left the room, hearing the sound boots hitting the floor followed by that of a heavy belt before I closed the door. Heading downstairs, I ignored the stares of my officers at my rather-prominent erection as I sought out my general, Aaron.

I found him playing cards with some other officers at a table. A large, bald man with arms as thick as tree trunks, Aaron was a fearsome warrior and one of my closest friends.

"Aaron," I said, approaching the table, "May I spare a moment?"

"Of course, Ignatius," he said, "Having fun up there?"

"I am," I nodded, leading him away from the table, "So much that I have a little treat for the officers."

"Oh?"

"I have a priestess of the sky goddess upstairs," I explained, "And I was willing to give her to Muna for some...training...in the practices of the earth goddess."

"She'll be thrilled," Aaron laughed, "And so will the men when they find out there's going to be another initiation ceremony."

"I'm going to be a little while longer," I said, "But I need Muna available for when I'm finished. Please find her and send her upstairs. Tell her to just enter, but not interrupt."

"Of course, my Lord," Aaron grinned, and then snapped to attention before heading off in search of my inquiry.

Finished with my business, I headed back upstairs and slipped into the bedchamber.

The room was filled with the smell of Caela's arousal and the sounds of her moans. Approaching the bed, I found her with her arms wrapped around the soldier's back, knees splayed to the side as he thrust on top of her. Upon closer inspection, I found him rubbing the length of his cock along her slit, coating it in her cum and leaving a sticky, shiny smear along her lower belly where it slid across her skin.

Pre-cum was dripping liberally out of the tip of his cock and I could tell by the strain in his face that it was taking all the soldier had not to penetrate the priestess despite my explicit order.

"Has she cum yet?" I asked, though the small pool of moisture on the sheets where the two were joined shown that she had. The solider nodded his confirmation, continuing to thrust along Caela's cunt.

"How does that feel, priestess?" I asked her. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but she nodded and answered, "So g-good, my Lord."

"Imagine what it will feel like when I fuck you properly," I whispered, and then watched with amusement as she squealed and orgasmed. Cum flowed around the soldier's cock and joined the small pool and he moaned, another bead of pre-cum flowing out of his cock and onto her belly.

"Finish yourself off," I told the soldier, "Cum on her stomach and then leave us."

With a groan, the soldier sat back on his feet and began to stroke his shaft with earnest. I did not watch him do this, but the sound that followed swiftly after indicated that he had cum.

Sitting in the chair I had occupied earlier, I removed my boots and then stood to remove my belt. The soldier was already dressed by the time I finished pulling off my pants, freeing my nine inch erection at last.