The Root of the Matter - Hylore Ch. 01

Dielle stood and stretched. Her ass and her cheek hurt some but she felt springy and clear-headed. Theris rose, more slowly, a languid movement not unlike a snake uncoiling from a rest, her erection matching the priestess's own hard shaft and in marked contrast to the masnen, whose cocks were nearly flaccid. Tupel's ass cheeks flexed as she tried to pump up her dick to no avail. The priestess guessed it didn't matter if a fighter was soft, it wasn't all about fucking, which was too bad, really, she decided. There's an idea. Women straining against each other in carnal combat, not hitting or punching but wrestling and pinning and fucking and... The thought made her smile and her cock bounce, oozing a slender stream of cum onto the floor. Everyone noticed it. Theris grinned broadly, the masnen glared and looked surreptitiously at their limp dicks, the crowd roared and applauded.

Fiara slipped back into the crowd, seeing that the fight was going to start again. Her expression showed she was pleased, she'd turn a nice profit and maybe even see Ouresel and Tupel beaten for once. Not likely but it was a pleasant notion.

Ouresel put her mouth to Tupel's ear, her hand pointing first at Theris and then at Dielle. The larger masnen nodded, then shook her head, whispering back into the other's ear. Ouresel shoved Tupel, punched her on the arm and pointed across the room again. She slapped the soft cock, causing it to perk up and Tupel to twitch in shock but the larger masnen now nodded vigorously. They both stared for a moment and then rushed the blonde and the priestess.

"I'm for Tupel; Ouresel's yours," Theris said as she slid sideways right, drawing the larger masnen toward her. Dielle stepped up and then to her left, causing her opponent to shift her charge; the priestess chucked her hip to the right, catching Ouresel off guard and neatly flipping the masnen over onto her back where she fell with a thud that shook the floorboards. Seeing her only chance lay in doing something no one expected, Dielle knelt in a smooth motion, shifting the prone woman's legs and hiking one one of them up onto her shoulder. Once in a sort of scissors position, she grabbed Ouresel's heavy balls and twisted them aside, drawing a surprised gasp from the masnen, and exposing the moist ass. Her hard cock, feeling wonderful and incredibly randy, slid easily to the root into the tight hole, and Ouresel moaned, the sound an odd cross between pleasure and anger. Dielle shifted her grip from balls to cock and began a rhythmic fucking that alternated strokes of her own dick into and out of her opponent's ass with a firm but languorous stroking of the masnen's rapidly hardening cock.

This feels good, thought Dielle, even if she can't use her interior muscles. No training, obviously. Her mind was bright and she felt unexpectedly fresh, like a runner who reaches a plateau of near euphoria during a long run. Don't give in to the feeling, she reminded herself, stay focused, just fuck Ouresel unconscious. How hard can that be, considering?

From the corner of her eye, she saw Theris and Tupel locked up in a back and forth struggle, their arms wrapped around each other's neck, twisting like two dancers weaving in an exotic cadence with the music playing only in their heads. The masnen was much larger and much stronger than the blonde. In an instant the dance turned into an acrobatic display when Tupel picked Theris up as if she were a rag doll and flung her to the floor, where the blonde landed with a larger thud than had Ouresel earlier. Dielle winced in sympathy again, deciding she needed to finish her own opponent, then go help Theris. If she did it right, she could swing around to cling to Ouresel's back and put her in a choke hold. She'd learned a move from Nera that helped with unruly worshipers, forearm locked in at the base of the neck, firm but gentle pressure, and then all would be quiet.

To do that she'd have to stop fucking Ouresel and she was enjoying it very much, especially as the masnen beneath her was in no position to fight back, because Dielle held her by the cock as she rocked in and out of her now sopping ass. The masnen seemed to like it, too. Again, just from the corner of her eye, the priestess saw that Theris was now in serious trouble, wrapped up by Tupel in something she'd heard called the Sleeping Dragon, held firm by the neck, body stretched painfully backward, cock waving in the air. One arm flailed weakly. It looked to be time to help. But first...

She'd lost her concentration and Ouresel took advantage, bucking her off and then switching positions, the masnen now on top but straddling the priestess's chest, pinning her arms to the floor with thick knees. The thick slab of meat that was her cock had stiffened to full erection and Ouresel leaned forward to rub the dripping tip across Dielle's lips.

"Open wide, little bird, time for a big fat worm." The large woman gripped the priestess's jaw, forcing it open and slipped the slick tip past her teeth. "If you bite, I'll crush your ribs then wring your neck. Just enjoy it. I will."

Dielle did want to enjoy it, she was only waiting her time to reverse on Ouresel again and lulling the woman into complacency seemed a good tack. She nibbled at the head and the sensitive flesh underneath, lapping in cum as it swirled into her mouth. Tastes OK, not the best I've had but not the worst.

The masnen did seem to forget herself as Dielle worked her well-trained tongue around the slowly throbbing cock. She leaned sideways and in over the priestess's head, bracing herself with both hands on the floor, her eyes closed, face dreamy. Dielle wriggled an arm free of the confining knee and, while she performed a particularly intricate maneuver with her lips, teeth, and tongue, one she was sure was wasted on her opponent even though Ouresel moaned and twitched, she brought her fist up and around to deliver a hard blow to the masnen's heavy balls. Ouresel spasmed in an unexpected orgasm, spewing cum into Dielle's mouth and then over her face as her cock slipped from the warm mouth and began ejaculating wildly. Dielle followed the punch with a sharp, twisting knuckle to the taint and Ouresel groaned and collapsed face first. While a gentle, knowing massage of the taint brings an orgasm to an entirely different level of pleasure, a blow to the same area results in pain that can't be described afterward except by a severely contorted expression.

Dielle rolled the prostrate and incoherent masnen off her, no mean feat considering the difference in size and weight, and wrapped herself about Ouresel's back, legs locked across the abs, arms firmly squeezing her opponent's throat. Not long now, the priestess thought, I can't believe it was so...

Something hit her at the base of the neck, lights exploding in her head and then a shrinking pinpoint of light to...

------

Dielle woke to find herself pinned and twisted in an interesting but not very painful position. She was on her back, held in the air by her arms and legs, stretched out and taut. She lifted her head to see Ouresel standing between the spread legs, smiling at the priestess's erection, licking her lips. The masnen shifted her weight from foot to foot as if she was bothered by something between her own legs. That meant Tupel was holding her up in something called the Star Gazing position.

"Clever bird," she said, not in a friendly or complimentary way. "Nearly had me, there, but you didn't count on your friend being such a lousy fighter. She is that, you know, got a reputation for being just not good enough. And, as always, she's let her partner down. So sad. For her. For you, though it's a treat. Somethin' I reserves only for special people, you bein' one o' them." Ouresel slapped Dielle's cock absently as she talked, occasionally punching the smaller woman's balls. Dielle didn't mind, she'd been trained for worse but she sensed it was about to get severely unpleasant. Fiara appeared behind the masnen.

"Oi. That's cheating. I told you about the rules. Now either go stand off or tap your partner. One on one only, I said. Clear as day, I said it."

Ouresel turned and put a massive hand to the tavern owner's face, pushing her back to fall among the crowd. "Fuck off, Fiara. I don't listen to the likes o' you. There's only one person I take orders from and," the masnen made a show of looking around the room, "she ain't here. Sit back and enjoy the show, ladies. Not ever' day you gets to see this."

The masnen stepped in close and shoved her cock rudely into Dielle's cunt. Though she was wet, the force of the entry pained her, several hairs from around her balls and cock got caught up and pulled away with the force. The priestess did her best to hold a blank face. No sense letting Ouresel know it hurt. The masnen fucked her for several minutes and while the priestess didn't come, didn't want to, didn't see the need, her opponent seemed to be trying, unsuccessfully to reach orgasm, so she could splatter Dielle's face and chest, probably. The crowd sensed her difficulty and the murmur of amusement only made Ouresel more angry. She began pounding away furiously, mashing the priestess's balls and slapping her own against the upturned ass.

"Hey, I want my chance," Tupel complained from beneath Dielle. "You said we could go together. Give off and let me have some."

"You're a whiny bitch, you know that?" Ouresel replied, not kindly. "Oh, what the fuck, pull her down and we'll go twofer."

Tupel let Dielle drop onto her chest, which didn't seem to bother the masnen at all but knocked the wind from the priestess. Her massive hands reached down to pull and spread Dielle's legs wide, nudging her cock to the small, sweat-soaked asshole, where she rammed it past the puckered muscles deep into the priestess's bowels. That did hurt and Dielle cried out involuntarily.

"Hah. Finally got a reaction from you. Just so's you know, I like my birds stuffed." Ouresel grinned, knelt between the spread legs and put her cock back into the priestess's cunt as hard as she had before. While she didn't much care for a double penetration, she'd learned to accept it. This, though was an assault pure and simple, no pleasure, no satisfaction, just pain and the gnawing sensation of being humiliated in public. Dielle tried to maintain her focus, bring her training to the fore, ride through the pain to find the goddess, but Leshar had nothing to do with what was happening to her, was probably hiding her face in sympathy. There was no one to help her. She might even...

The cock in her pussy shot out as if yanked by a string. A strong arm dragged her off Tupel's massive shaft and sat her on the floor next to a woozy Theris who was rubbing her throat.

"You all right?" Dielle asked seeing that her friend's eyes weren't quite focused. She was a little dizzy herself.

"I've been better. Just came to and was going to help you when they came in."

Dielle looked up at an amazing and frightening sight. Ouresel was held by the head in the painful grip of a single massive hand attached to, oh, goddess help us, an orc. The creature was immense, at least two hundred forth centimeters and a hundred thirty-five kilograms of yellow-skinned, dense muscle. The flesh appeared to be painted or dyed, with dark blue tribal tattoos along the arms and shoulders. A bald--not shaven--head sat on a thick neck, black eyes peering out from either side of a broad flat nose. She was barefoot, no sandals or boots could possibly be big enough to fit those feet, and wore a deep red kilt with a large, pale sleeveless shirt, tied at the waist by a scarf the same color as her kilt.

Tupel lay on the ground, held there by a booted foot pressed hard over one wrist that belonged to an elf, a normal elf, not the nightmare facing her. The elf was tall, two hundred five centimeters and at least ninety-five kilograms, with long, pale blonde hair and piercing blue eyes in a classically beautiful face, the face of statues and paintings. She wore clothes identical to the orc, smaller, and the shirt had bloused sleeves, tied at the wrists.

"Uh, oh," said Theris in a soft voice. "We may be in trouble."

"Who are they?" Dielle asked in an equally soft voice. She noticed that the room had gone deathly still. Neither Ouresel nor Tupel moved, though they were each big enough to wrestle free of the grips that held them.

"Fuckin' hells, it's Clearly and Reason. That's serious muscle, direct from Malas herself. The orc is Clearly, and the elf is Reason. They're the left and right hands of the Dread Pirate."

"Why?" Dielle poked her friend and lover. "Those are very odd names. Why?"

"Not as odd as you might think, love. See, if you annoy the Dread Pirate, she sends those two to meet you. Then, as they say, you see Clearly and listen to Reason. Not so odd at all." The blonde tried to make herself smaller. "Lets hope they're only interested in them two."

The tall elf cracked a smile without mirth and only made her classical face colder, more severe. "You two aren't supposed to be here, are you? You're supposed to be at the docks collecting a package for her dreadness, aren't you?" The last two words were drawled out to at least three syllables. "She isn't pleased that you shirked your duties, and sent us to fetch you. Imagine our surprise when we find you brawling and fucking in a public house, a respectable one, mind you, and all for your own ill gotten gain, it seems. What think you, Clearly?"

The orc smiled, an amazing sight, as it was both disarming and alarming at the same time. She nodded and rumbled something that shook Dielle to her bones, a bass reply so low it was felt instead of heard.

"See, Ouresel, Clearly agrees with me. It's unanimous. You and this piece of dung," she kicked Tupel idly, who took it without a whimper, "are coming with us back to The Prow to contemplate your sins. Stand up, shitface." Tupel scrambled to her feet and stood with head bowed.

Reason stood next to the large masnen and looked her over as if she were some animal she wasn't sure she wanted to buy. "So many rings in those pretty ears, Tupel. All to make you look fancy. You ain't so fancy tonight are you?" The tall elf snapped a large ring off the other's ear, leaving a bloody tear. Tupel didn't move, didn't speak. Reason walked leisurely toward Ouresel, who cringed.

"Afraid, are we? I thought you were the meanest bitch in Baywatch. That's what you tell everyone. Everyone who's smaller than you." Reason snagged two rings from the masnen's ear, who mewled at the pain. "You are dung, Ouresel, a self-important thug who should be groveling at the Dread Pirate's feet for the opportunity she gave you. Instead we find you brawling here and I might add, getting bested by a couple of elves smaller and smarter than you. So much so, you take to public havoc to get your smarmy honor back. I don't think that's very nice, do you, Clearly?"

The orc chuckled, a sound that shook the walls and floor, her great head moving from side to side. "No," she said slowly, "that's not nice at all."

Reason put the ear rings in a pouch at her waist and turned to Dielle and Theris. "Stand, please, I want to look at the women who scared these two brave masnen."

They stood, Dielle confused and curious, Theris nervous and twitchy. Reason looked them over, gazing casually at Dielle but more intently at Theris.

"Have we met?" the tall elf asked in a voice that said, yes, we have.

"No, no, I don't think so. I'd remember meeting you," Theris replied, looking Reason directly in the eye, a wan smile on her face.

"Clearly, you know these women?"

The orc let go of Ouresel's head and said, very distinctly, "Stay." The masnen didn't move. She lumbered to where Reason stood and peered at the the priestess and the blonde. Her face crinkled in surprise and her wide nose spread even more as she sniffed at them loudly. Her eyes and then her whole face broke into a wide, amused smile. "No," she said, shaking the room with her voice, "never met them. But... they are more than they seem. Not dangerous, but... more." Dielle realized then the orc wasn't a thuggish brute but showed her intelligence only when it was needed. A very dangerous creature indeed.

"You were hired by Fiara. For tonight?" Reason's voice said a specific answer was expected.

"Yes," Dielle answered quickly before Theris got herself into trouble. "Just for tonight, for the fight, nothing more."

"You get paid yet?" asked the tall elf. Before the priestess could answer, she said, in a loud voice. "Fiara. Get your fat ass over here. And bring the purse. All of it or I will not be happy."

The tavern owner hustled as fast as she could, which wasn't very fast due to her bulk, carrying two bags of coins, one bigger than the other. She handed them both to Reason without being asked.

"Which is which?" Reason asked in a mild voice that held the distinct tone of restrained violence.

"The bigger one is what's bet on the masnen, them two," Fiara waved a hand at Tupel and Ouresel. "The smaller one is what's bet on Theris and... uh... her."

"Who was winning before we showed up, and before these pieces of shit started cheating? And don't tell me what you think I want to hear. I am interested in the truth tonight, Fiara, hear?"

"It was them." said the old elf that Dielle had talked with during with rest. "The blonde and the brunette. They was takin' it to them others, the scum, afore they started to cheatin'." Reason looked severely at Fiara who nodded.

"Well, then, as the fight's over and it was these two women who were winning--against all odds, and even though their opponents turned out to be rotten cheaters," she turned a sneer at Ouresel and Tupel, "then, as a direct hand of the Dread Pirate, I declare these women," she clapped Dielle and Theris each on the shoulders, "the winners of a well-performed fight. And I award them this purse." She handed Dielle the larger bag. Fiara shivered but said nothing. Reason leaned in close to the tavern owner and said in a low voice, "Let that be a lesson to you, bitch. You have a concern, let Malas hear it first. Don't have us be the ones who find out and fix it for you."

The orc turned back to the two masnen, who hung about like kicked dogs. "You two, walk in front of us, quick-like. No, don't take your clothes, they ain't yours no more. Git." The voice shook the room and Ouresel and Tupel hurried, naked, through a back door, followed closely by Clearly and Reason.

Dielle looked at Theris, who interrupted before she could speak. "Don't ask. Get dressed, take our stuff and let's go, now, before those two change their minds and come back for us."

------

Mostly dressed and moderately presentable, Dielle and Theris wound their way through the main room of the Tumbled Wench, where no seemed to take notice. The priestess was sure their disheveled appearance--disheveled to her--at least, tunic rumpled and partially askew, braid loose with strands of hair drooping onto a face that looked as if she'd been drinking heavily, her appearance would raise attention or curiosity. But after a slow turn for a quick gaze, she realized she and Theris looked no worse than most of the women in the tavern, who led hard lives and even harder evenings, it seemed. I don't get out enough.

They passed the table where the two feinen eroticians sat, a half full tankard in front of each, chins in hands. The one on the left nodded off briefly until her companion poked her. Theris stood close and said, again in her honeyed voice, "Fair feinen." They both turned and gave her an appraising glance, one that said they'd seen better, much better. "Still here? But who's won the contest?"

The feinen with the soft voice, dusky skinned with long brown hair, done in a complex braid, and green eyes, said wearily, "No one and it seems likely no one will." She waved her hand toward the space beyond the table at the two amazon duanen. Neither was unconscious, though they looked awful. They lay on their backs, hip to hip, one leg across the other's chest, apparently to hold each other down, half-erect cocks waving slowly above their enormous balls. Sweat and cum covered them both, their faces masks of pain though the were silent. The floor around them was also splattered with drying patches of what looked like cum, though, Dielle thought, there couldn't be that much essence in the women. One of the amazons raised a large, dark fist and dropped it, as hard as an exhausted woman could, onto her opponent's exposed nut sac, who jerked slightly but did nothing else except shoot a small wad of cum into the air that landed on the first amazon's legs. The second amazon raised her own fist and delivered an equal blow to the first woman's crotch, with the same resulting eruption. Both women lay still, eyes closed, breathing hard, but neither moved away from the other. The first amazon began raising her fist again, slowly.