Red Tsonia & The Witch In The Dark

"I remember this painting well," she told DuFrain and stopped to admire it. "Joras was never satisfied with the perspective on the scimitar. He claimed it made the blade look too short."

"It only makes the subject more glorious," DuFrain countered, wrapping Tsonia in his arms from behind. He ran his hands down the curve of her hips, and back up her sides to cup her breasts while nuzzling the crook of her bare neck with his lips.

"Speaking of glorious..." Tsonia let the robe slip off her shoulders. She held the loose swag of fabric behind her pert ass as she stepped forward and turned in place for his admiration. "Is this what you've been waiting for?"

"For so many nights, my dear!" DuFrain sucked in his breath at the sight of her taut body on display for him alone. She noticed a flash of disappointment cross his face when his eyes fell upon the dressing that bound her injured shoulder, but his eyes weren't interested in her shoulder.

Freeing one hand, she reached out and caressed his jaw, trailing one finger down his throat and chest and belly to trace the outline of his erection straining at his velvet hosiery. Drawing her face tantalizingly close, she murmured "I note with disappointment m'Lord, that your breeches are still up." She drew away, circling behind the discomfited nobleman as he struggled to free himself from his decorative sword belt and snug garments.

At last he managed to push the hose to his ankles and Tsonia wrapped an arm around his chest from behind. She pressed the full swell of her breasts into his back, and ground the heat of her sex against his ass, and DurFrain gasped when she pushed the tines of a stolen dinner fork against his throat.

"What are you doing!?" DuFrain demanded and Tsonia could feel the heat of his flush rising.

"I'm making love to you, m'Lord," Tsonia purred innocently. "I am seduced after all, am I not?"

She ran her free hand down his slik-clad arm caressing gently until her fingers found his wrist, which she twisted with quick precision sending a jolt of pain to his shoulder.

"You're hurting me!" DuFrain gasped.

"You want me to hurt you," Tsonia whispered, and nipped at his ear lobe. "You want a warrior-woman who will treat you like a prize won in bloody battle. You like it when I hurt you, don't you DuFrain?"

"Don't be ridicu-- AH!" DuFrain tried to object but Tsonia gave his wrestled arm another twist.

"You want to fear me. You want to know pain and pleasure and humiliation all at once. You want to surrender your body and soul to sensations you have only dreamt of, and you know that I can provoke them. If not, then why does your cock swell even as my weapon creeps closer to your death?"

She pressed the fork tines incrementally into the flesh of his throat, causing him to strain in her grasp and hiss in fear until finally, DuFrain blurted "Yes! Yes, I want you to hurt me!"

"As I thought," Tsonia released the lord's wrenched arm from her grip and took his cock in her hand, smearing the dollop of pre-cum across its tumescent surface. "Now tell me DuFrain, do you gaze upon my image and fondle your little lord?"

"Wh- No! No, of course not!" he sputtered.

"Do not lie to me, DuFrain," Tsonia hissed, applying slightly more pressure with the fork. "I know when you lie."

"...Yes," DuFrain confessed, daring to swallow. "Yes, occasionally, I fondle myself when I look at your painting."

"Very good," Tsonia eased back on the fork, but kept the steel prongs resting on his skin. "Now spit." She held the sticky open palm of her free hand beneath his mouth. He obliged her with a gob of spittle, and her hand returned to his shaft.

"Tell me what dreams fill your head when you sacrifice your seed to me," Tsonia urged as she stroked his slick cock.

"I imagine you naked on my bed, legs spread wide," DuFrain began, his hips gently swaying in time to Tsonia's ministrations. "I imagine fucking you until you scream my name. I imagine you sated and wasted by our sex, panting from the effort, ruined... for... all oth-- Ehrgh!"

Tsonia felt DuFrain's struggle to hold back, and she felt his will collapse and the surge as his cock spewed forth its sacrifice onto the floor. His body sagged in her arms and his erection began to flag immediately in her hand.

"Oh, DuFrain," she tsked gently. "You must know a man of your... limited stamina could never drive a woman such as I into such exhaustion, don't you?"

"...I had hoped--"

"Don't you?!" Tsonia pushed the fork tighter to his throat.

"Yes," he gasped. "T'was but a dream I could never realize."

"'Tis a lovely dream, and I thank you for sharing it." She kissed his cheek. "Shall we try to make it come true?" Tsonia could almost feel the man's pulse quicken at the suggestion, and she allowed him to hold out hope for a moment longer before dashing his hopes into deepest humiliation. "Summon your guards," she finished.

DuFrain's indignation was immediate. "I'll not have my men see me cuckold to some woman," he insisted.

"Very well," Tsonia withdrew the fork, laying it aside, and released the Overseer. "Then I shall take my leave and your dream ends here. Or..." She crawled upon the ornate bed and rolled over on her back, luxuriating in the feel of the sheets. "You surrender what precious little will you have and I awaken in you a passion for the suffering you deserve."

DuFrain stood conflicted, and Tsonia read the torment on his visage.

"Your guards," she insisted, spreading wide her legs. "Summon them. You dream of seeing Red Tsonia wasted by sex? Then do it. That Captain Ivor of yours. Call for him, too."

***

Defeated, the coward DuFrain did as he was told. Ivor and Tommek burst into the bedchamber to find their master standing in the middle of the room, his silk tunic and waistcoat hanging loose and unbound, his fine breeches bunched around his ankles. A sticky langret of seed hung from his limp cock and dripped in a puddle on the floor. The Lord Overseer hung his head and could not meet their startled gaze. He felt the flush of his humiliation rising in his face.

Behind him, lounging naked in only his jewels, Red Tsonia smiled. She ordered the guardsmen to drop their weapons and strip off their armor. DuFrain forced himself to nod his assent, and they complied. Unlike their master, Ivor and Tommek were like wolves, toughened and tempered by a lifetime of battle. DuFrain saw Tsonia's eyes flash with hunger as their eager shafts rose to the occasion. Beckoning them close, she locked gazes with DuFrain.

"Pay heed now," she purred, closing her hand around Ivor's lance and guiding the engorged organ to her lips. "This is how Red Tsonia loves to feast."

She engulfed the Captain's cock and slurped obscenely as she sucked and taunted him with her tongue. Tommek, with no regard for his master's presence, climbed between her thighs. Before Tommek could ram his shaft into her fleshy sheath, Tsonia grabbed his shoulder with her free hand and dragged him down so his malformed face was level with her yearning sex. Shrugging, Tommek planted his mouth on her nether lips and gorged his desire on her nectar.

DuFrain stood next to the bed, fists clenched in wordless rage as he beheld the moaning witch serviced by his most loyal guards. Tsonia, with Ivor's shaft between her lips, caught his gaze anew. A long finger pointed at his waist. Torn between outrage and lust, DuFrain grasped at his sticky, spent manhood, trying in vain to rouse it back to a semblance of rigidity.

He watched as Ivor grabbed Tsonia's mane of fiery tresses, forcing his own rhythm on her as the captain fucked her mouth. Tsonia didn't object—in fact, she seemed to enjoy his deep thrusts, gurgling lewdly as Ivor's rampant member slid down her throat. Her hand clawed Tommeks hair, keeping the guardsman's furiously lapping tongue embedded in place as she ground her hips against his face.

Tsonia's body arched off the mattress as a mighty climax shook her from head to toe, her hips bucking wildly as Tommek clung to her thighs. Tsonia's nails clenched a fistful of the DuFrain's sheets, tearing runs in the fine silk. Her eyes flashed with a ferocity the Overseer had never witnessed before. His knees went weak and at last he felt the first stirrings of rejuvenation in his loins.

DuFrain gawped in lustful awe as Ivor withdrew, a silvery arch of his juices and her spit connecting his cock with Tsonia's mouth, and a guttural sound halfway between bestial growl and heated moan escaped her lips.

"I needed that," Tsonia sighed at last, uncurling like a striking cobra and pushing Tommek onto his back. She straddled him, trapping his throbbing, dripping shaft in the cleft of her ass.

"Oh, DuFrain," she purred, caressing the delicate, pink flower of her rear orifice, " I have need of your service."

"Wait, I-- I'm not ready yet.." DuFrain sputtered, furiously tugging his uncooperative shaft as he clambered onto the crowded bed. At last she was going to surrender to him the bounty he knew he deserved, if only he could ready himself to seize it.

"Then we must find a role more suited to your silver tongue," Tsonia teased, circling her puckered asshole with a middle finger. "What comes next only works with ample lubrication, so please, indulge me."

DuFrain's face flushed red with outrage. "I am a nobleman of Thelyria!" he fumed. "Lord Overseer of The Cairn, and heir to the Vale of Fraines! I will not debase my tongue on the ass of a barbarian slut, no mat--"

His protests were suddenly cut off as Ivor seized his master by the scruff of the neck and unceremoniously planted DuFrain's cheeks between Tsonia's.

"Enjoy your meal, Lord Overseer," Ivor crowed, "And be glad to have any scraps at all."

Tsonia lovingly caressed DuFrain's bald spot. "Poor DuFrain. I assure you our dalliance shall be conducted with the utmost discretion," she parroted his earlier promise back at him.

With the heat of her flesh on his face and the scent of her lust in his nostrils, DuFrain groaned as desire overcame his battered pride. With the first tentative licks, DuFrain's resistance melted. Too soon, Tsonia shoved DuFrain backwards and reached underneath her, resting Tommek's purple head against her rear entrance. Dufrain watched the throbbing organ slide into her passage until the flesh of her ass rested on his taut stomach again.

Tsonia spread her glistening lips invitingly. "Your patience shall be rewarded, Captain," she purred, gesturing for Ivor to mount her.

Eyes blazing in triumph, the tall Captain pushed DuFrain out of his way and scooted between her thighs, his rampant spear leading the way. Tsonia wailed hoarsely as he drove his shaft home in one deep stroke, filling her up in an instant. Tommek writhed under her, adding his own raspy gasps to the symphony of lust unfolding in the Overseer's bed. Tsonia clawed at Ivor's strong shoulders as the Captain tore into her, pounding her fast and hard.

The frantic slap of flesh reverberated off the perfumed bedchamber's walls as DuFrain watched the moaning, sweating bodies on the bed. This was all wrong! He should be the one being balls deep in her cunt, not his brutish soldiers! It was his wealth and finery and sparkling conversation that had seduced her, but the warrior slut cared not for such grace and breeding. She desired only the savagery of his low-bred men-at-arms, and cast aside his eternal devotion in favor of their coarse fucking.

Seething with rage, DuFrain yanked up his soiled silks and left the room. Tsonia would pay for the humiliation she had visited upon him! They would all rue this accursed night.

***

Tsonia came anew, carving bloody furrows into Ivor's back as her body was wracked by one ecstatic spasm after another, her wails punctuated by the growls of the men furiously plowing her nether orifices. There were no coherent thoughts, just the blissful waves of lust as their spears churned her insides. Tommek came first, spewing hot seed into her bowels while Ivor kept on pummeling her like a man possessed. Suddenly, he withdrew. Roaring in triumph, he pumped his glistening shaft, anointing her body with long ropes of silvery cream across her stomach and tits. Spurts hit her chin and lips.

Writhing languidly atop Tommek, his rampant cock still lodged deep within her rear, Tsonia gathered some of the silvery nectar in her palm and lapped it up, smacking her lips like a gourmet after an especially tasty goblet of wine.

Sighing, she slid off Tommek, breathing a kiss on the man's disfigured lips before treating Ivor to a similar gesture of thanks. The captain hugged her close, reveling in the feel of her scorching skin against his own.

"It hurts me to think you might be out of a job by now," Tsonia purred, grinding her sex against his. He was hard and still raring to go, as was Tommek, who snuggled up to her from behind. Her hunger flared up once more, but Tsonia knew when not to push her luck.

"What can he do?" Ivor muttered into her hair. "I'm his most loyal Captain. Replacing me with someone else will only lead to uncomfortable questions His Excellency won't be prepared to answer." He pawed one of Tsonia's breasts, teasing her nipple with his thumb. "I worry about you though. DuFrain's rage will be vast."

Tsonia closed her hand around Ivor's cock and pumped it hungrily. "What can he do? Send his guards after me?" She chuckled and closed her other hand around Tommek's shaft, treating it alike.

"We would look in all the wrong places," the disfigured man rasped. "But DuFrain has other associates he might unleash upon you. Assassins. Witches. Scum like that."

Tsonia rejoiced quietly, her hands quickening on her lovers' shafts. "Do tell me more," she urged them. Ivor gasped as he erupted between her fingers. Tsonia playfully licked up his silvery offering.

Tommek spoke, stopping her gentle assault by placing his hand over hers. "We have strict orders not to cleanse the north-western section of the Warrens, right next to the keep. Whatever's down there is under the Overseer's protection."

Ivor growled. "She's called Amalthra and DuFrain brought her with him when he was banished." The Captain's eyes narrowed in anger. "A disgusting abomination she is, in league with the Lords from Beyond. Even DuFrain doesn't want her around, but that witch has sway over him. Every full moon, she calls on him and every morning after, he appears peaked and ill. If I had any say, she would have burned at the stake long ago."

"Pity for the Overseer?" Tsonia asked, gently mocking him.

"Concern for the people?" Tommek added, his lopsided grin uglier than ever.

"I won't allow demon worship in my town," Ivor growled, the fires of conviction burning in his eyes.

Tsonia averted her gaze. Her shoulder wound suddenly seemed rather obvious. She patted Ivor's backside. "I think I'd better leave before DuFrain gathers his courage and murders all of us." Sighing, she slid from the devastated bed and used the wash table to rinse herself off. Sufficiently cleansed, she threw the sapphire robe around her shoulders. Ivor and Tommek dressed and armed themselves.

***

"Keep your chin up, darling," Joras instructed as his charcoal captured the broad sweep of his lover's shoulder, like a taut cable holding the galiotes at anchor in the Bay of Symene. After finishing Tsonia's errands, he'd found a quaint glass of wine in the wares of a caravan down from the north, and a comfortable bed with the caravan's master.

"Better?" asked Petruch, in his odd accent that reminded Joras of sunny eastern skies. He lounged on the pillows with one arm crooked behind his head and the other stretched out to his side, as if in invitation to come back to bed.

"Much," Joras confirmed. He selected a plump date from a nearby bowl and popped it in his mouth, then went back to his sketch as he chewed. "You're sure the boy won't be any trouble?" he asked idly.

"None at all," Petruch assured him. "He looks a strong lad, and he'll have honest work tending the lizards and camels."

"Good, good." Joras nodded absentmindedly as he drew.

"I could find room for you as well," Petruch continued. "Not work perhaps, but passage. You've a heavy purse now. Why not lighten it? We're heading east into the spring. It will be a pleasant journey to exotic lands. Why not come with us? Why not come with me?"

"Chin, darling," Joras reminded him with a flicking of his fingers. It would be a lie to say that he was not tempted by Petruch's offer. To journey east through the bucolic hills of the Debon Meadows, the air fragrant with the scent of wildflowers and warm with the smiling sun, was a dream of his youth and one he laid aside only grudgingly. To spend those weeks in the company, and the bed, of Petruch was almost more of an enticement than he could resist. But resist he must.

"I wish I could," Joras said at last, after mustering his arguments in silence for a moment longer than was comfortable. "But the coin in my purse is not mine to spend. It belongs to Tsonia, and what belongs to Tsonia is not to be stolen lightly."

"Yes, you said so last night," Petruch reminded him, shifting ever so slightly his posture on the pillows. "I've heard such tales of this Savage Tsonia that if she be here, I think I should very much like to be elsewhere. What sway does this barbarian hold on you, Joras? Why stay with her and not with me?"

"Don't be like that," Joras admonished with an impish smirk. "It's not very becoming."

"Perhaps not, but that's not an answer."

Joras sighed and his shoulder slumped as a man resigned to an unpleasant task. He set his tablet and charcoal aside and accepted Petruch's invitation to snuggle into his arms against the plush heap of pillows. He rested his head on the big man's shoulder and caressed his chest.

"The thing you have to understand about Tsonia is..." Joras trailed off.

It was a long story and difficult to tell without rousing fear and anger. Joras had tried before. Even in the more enlightened Green Cities, there were long-held superstitions, religious zealotry, and willful ignorance to be found in spades. Out in the hinterlands, among the nomads and the forgotten peasants, you never knew how ideologies might be twisted or mis-practiced. Petruch seemed a kind and open-hearted man, one Joras would like to know better, but the artist didn't know the caravan master well enough yet to judge how he might react to the tale.

"Tsonia is..." Joras tried again and faltered. Petruch didn't rush him. He twisted his fingers gently in Joras's hair and quietly waited. Joras appreciated the patient consideration.

"There is a monster inside Tsonia that fuels her fury," Joras began at last, hoping he could strike just the right chord to evoke pity and understanding rather than fear and loathing. "And to keep the monster chained, she must be reminded of her humanity. She needs me, you see. She needs someone who can remind her of the beauty and the kindness and the goodness in the world. She is driven to destruction and chaos and brutality, even in love. And I like to think that through painting and song and friendship, I am able to remind her that there is beauty in the world worth preserving and fostering. Because I fear if she ever forgets... I really don't know... I am afraid of what she may be capable of if the full measure of her wrath is ever unleashed."

Joras looked up at Petruch searching his visage for some sign of understanding.

"That is a heavy burden to bear, my dear," Petruch said at last, stroking his beard. He reached for the hortum of the hookah that sat smoldering next to the bed and inhaled a lungful of fragrant smoke before offering the marpuç to Joras. "How is it you came to make such a sacrifice?"

Sacrifice. The word was more appropriate than he knew. Joras exhaled a billow of smoke that merged and mingled with Petruch's own haze, then much like the two men who would go their separate ways, the cloud dissipated as if it had never been.