The Long Shot Pt. 04

Gyre snorted, his hands sliding along the bed, feeling the silky sheets under his palms -- decadently soft. His eyes closed and he laughed. "You do know that I can fly, right? And I can smite ships from the sea with the wave of my hand? And I can bend steel with my pinkie?"

"Yeah, but how does this not make you the subservient sex?" Chinsara asked, her face assuming such a serious aspect that Gyre had to laugh.

"Are you really sent to fuck me?" He asked, shaking his head. "Or..." He looked at her. "The Queen wants me to like you, so you're here with your humor and not treating me like a terrifying weapon of war, so I bond with you?" He arched an eyebrow at her. Chinsara pouted at him.

"Maybe," she said.

"What if I call your bluff then?" Gyre asked, pushing himself to his feet. He stretched his arms above his head, groaning as he felt a warm pleasant stretching feeling through his shoulder muscles. Despite the fact he was growing increasingly sure that he had no such thing. "What if I demand you strip and-" He turned.

Chinsara had, with a single roll of her shoulders and a single untied belt, let her entire gown puddle around her knees as she sat back, her tail lifting up and slapping down with a loud thump against the bed. Her breasts were just as full and just as perky as they had looked, tipped with electric blue nipples that had been pierced through with golden hoops. Her belly was flat and muscular and her thighs were spread faintly, showing that she had a very, very, very compatible looking pussy between her legs. Her sharp teeth flashed and she murmured, her voice a sing song, playful tease.

"Bluff called, oh mighty Winding Gyre. Now, are you going to wind over here and tell me what on this Goddess' endless oceans a fucking Gyre is?"

Gyre felt his arousal hit him like an oar to the back of the head. His cock went from soft to immediately so achingly hard that he literally tore his pants, which ripped around his shaft as it thrust into the air, the tattered remains falling around himself. He chuckled and flushed, hard, his eyes widening as he looked at Chinsara. "Uh..." He whispered as she whistled, slowly, softly.

"Goddess damn," she breathed.

"I...uh..." He shook his head. "I can break stone, I don't..."

"Simple!" She sat up, her tail lifting and swishing from side to side, brushing her flutes along the silk. She stood with nimble grace, then tugged him forward, turning so that she stood on his far side and could push against his chest. "Lie down."

Gyre found himself laying backwards. His white and silver and red body splayed on the bed as his achingly hard cock thrust into the air -- and as he looked down at himself, he saw that his cock was ribbed along the bottom edge and the tip was gleaming with a glittering, shimmering lubrication that seemed to deploy itself along his member. Then all he had time to focus on was Chinsara's gleaming eyes as she swept herself up onto the bed, leaning forward and brushing the heavy sweep of her tits against the sides of his cock, her breath catching.

"Oh you're big," she whispered. "And hard. Most men this size are soft -- it's hard for them to..." Her palms pressed to her breasts, then pushed them forward, enfolding his member with her tits. Gyre groaned, low in his throat, unable to focus on anything but the pleasure of her tits squeezing around him. Her eyes half closed and she leaned forward, her tongue sweeping past her sharp teeth and grazing the tip of him. "...compact."

"Chinsara!" he groaned out, his head rolling back, resting on the bed as the softness of her tits enfolded him. They were so warm and firm and the feeling of her equally warm, equally greedy lips closing around the fat glans of his cock rocked Gyre with pleasure. He grabbed onto the sheets to either side of him, squeezing so tightly that he was sure he was ripping something. But instead, he simply felt the silk bunch around his fingers as Chinsara began to take every inch of him that thrust past her tits into her mouth. She swept her torso up and down, using her tits to work him as her warm, eager salavia dripped down his cock, making him not just slippery...but messy.

Gyre looked at his hand.

He was squeezing with all his might...

But the sheets weren't tearing.

He reached out as Chinsara continued to bob her head on his dick, her tits squeezing him tighter, tighter, tighter still. Her nipple rings bounced and glittered with her motions. Gyre closed his fingers...not on Chinsara, but on the headboard of the bed. The heavy wood filled his palm and he gripped and tugged on it with every bit of his strength, flexing hard...and felt nothing but a faint creak as pleasure spiked and his balls clenched and he found himself cumming. "Chinsara!" He gasped, unable to think of anything better to say...

White pleasure filled his eyes and his back arched as he came, filling her mouth with thick, white cum. She drank, made a surprised noise, drank some more, but he was cumming so hard, so plentifully, that cum flowed around her lips, splashed along her tits, coated her nipple rings. She drew back, laughing despite herself, and one last spurt of cum painted her face, leaving her dripping and messy. Her eyes closed and she groaned, licking her lips lavishly.

"Ah...your cum tastes so sweet!" She crooned, her hands going to her tits, rubbing the thick white spunk into her bright blue skin. "I...I'm not just saying that to stroke your ego either, Gyre, it really does taste delicious, holy Goddess!" She closed her eyes tightly, her fingers sliding up to her mouth, sucking each of them desperately. Gyre rolled his shoulders.

"I'm still hard," he crooned.

She opened one eye, looking at him.

"And I can control my strength."

She opened both eyes now.

Gyre moved in a flash. Before she knew it, Chinsara's palms were pressed to the bed, her thighs spread, her ass up in the air, and his cock pressing to her glistening, eager pussy. He grabbed onto the heavy muscular tail that slapped against his chest, then slammed into her with an eager, steady thrust. She gasped out and her eyes went wide -- and then Gyre felt his cock do something he hadn't known it could do.

It began to buzz. Inside of her, it buzzed, vibrating against her innermost parts.

Chinsara let out a wailing moan that he was sure carried down the corridor and through the thick stone walls. Then her moan formed into words. A command. A plea. "Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh Goddess, fuck me!"

Gyre leaned over her, his nose flaring as he began to work his hips, slamming into her again and again and again and again. His balls slapped against her clit and his hands glided along her hips, to her tits, squeezing her as he leaned over her.

The funny thing was...I was already on their side, he thought.

But he wasn't going to be telling Chinsara that.

At least.

Not until he was done plowing her brains out.

***

Tulon stood on the balcony of her chamber as the evening lights of the Queen's Crown glimmered before her. Her eyes, still stinging with tears, dropped to her palm. She held in her hand the crest of a Queen's Guard. The highest honor that a Chevalier could earn. On it was the inscription of the Queen's motto: For The Sea and The Sun. The royal crest, always such an honorable thing, looked tarnished and brassy.

Tulon breathed raggedly in.

Raggedly out.

"Xan is dead," she whispered to the sky.

There are few things that can kill a male quickly. Wasting diseases could kill them. Age could kill them. But a spear? No. A sword? Heh.

Fire.

Acid.

Explosions.

Those could snuff a husband out. Her body was peppered, still, with bruises from the impact and the battering she had gotten, when she had been flung from the Imperial ship. She had survived. And Xan?

"Xan is dead," she whispered to the crest.

Tears started to come again, burning at her eyes. Heavy footfalls behind her caused her to turn -- she saw a pair of heavily armored, bronze clad Queen's Guard, striding into her chamber. She choked her tears back, wiped, furiously, swung the crest around her neck. The two Guards stood to either side of her door...and through it came the Queen.

Queen Ruthara was an older woman. She had been a Chevalier herself in her youth, and that showed in the heavy muscle of her shoulders, but the fact it was her youth was made clear by the matronly folds of her breasts, belly, and hips. She was still lovely, in a regal, motherly sense, but she was definitely a woman who was facing up to age with dignity. The wrinkles around her eyes and her gills were pronounced -- and both became more pronounced as she frowned at Tulon.

"Tulon..." She said, softly. "I know how you are feeling."

Tulon bit back her first, instinctive, stupid response. No you don't. No you can't. You were married to a royal male from another island who you had never met before. You didn't find someone and fall for him and love him and cherish him and...

Despite her attempt to keep her face set, it was clear that some of what she felt was showing on her features because Queen Ruthara stepped forward and placed her hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "King Tro, though I did not know him when we met, was a man I grew to cherish more than anything. More than my own hand. To lose him, I felt as if my tail was cut off and my gills stopped with wax." She closed her eyes. "In a just world...I would have you have time to grieve. But we are not in a just world. We are at war."

Tulon lifted her chin. Her hand went to her Queen's hand, taking it, squeezing it. "What is it I must do?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"The arrival of a Goddess, be they male or female, will tip the balance of power in our favor. But a single woman...a single man...cannot decide a war by themselves, no matter how powerful. We must know all that we can about the Empire."

Tulon's lip trembled. Xan was joking about ruins, she thought. That's one of the rumors, that they found a ruin with ancient magics.

She kept her eyes dry. Forced the tears down.

"Captain Yetna has not spoken a single word. We have customs, and honor must be satisfied," Queen Ruthara said, her voice soft, gentle. "The Imperial Captain respects strength and skill -- which you displayed in your battles. You have spoken to more Imperials than anyone in my court. You have set foot on a dozen islands. You...may be the best one to get her to talk."

Tulon's blood ran cold.

But...

Oddly?

She was relieved.

Talking to Captain Yetna, of the Imperial Navy, was not actually the last thing she wanted to do in the world. Kept, in a tiny core of her breast, was a single desire, a burning coal of hatred that she could not...would not extinguish. She had not told the Queen, or her council, about this coal. But it was there.

If Tulon met The Widening Gyre again, with a spear in her hands...she would kill him.

Or she would die trying.

TO BE CONTINUED