The Steward's Bargain

Her lips drifted over his, soft as a promise. He sighed, then she felt his body relax.

She rubbed her right hand over his stomach, then up onto his chest, and feeling him shiver she said, “You are cold, and still wet from your time in the river.”

Hitty resisted the urge to look back at the witch, knowing she would be unable to keep an angry scowl from her face. Instead, she focused on Noah as she knelt next to the table, keeping his gaze on her.

“So, let’s get you ready, neh? You know what is happening, right Noah? I don’t want to pressure you, but if you agree once you are done we can go back to the boat and continue on our journey.”

His eyes flicked over to the macâhcâhk, taking some skitterish steps to stand near the foot of the table. Noah then turned to face Hitty and said, “I… think I understand more or less. I’m still a bit foggy, but whatever I need to do. You can explain everything when we get back to the Nawyet.” He gave her a tiny nod, and she was grateful that he seemed more alert.

Hitty felt a flush of relief that he was capable of agreeing with the “bargain” they had struck, because she had no other idea except to try to attack the macâhcâhk, which would be a grave betrayal of her word as a guest. It was also certainly doomed to failure, the shifters were strong and durable, even a good thrust with her harpoon - no sure thing in the cramped space - might not be enough… and her harpoon was leaning against the doorframe regardless.

But no matter, if this didn’t work Hitty would try it. She doubted the witch would release Noah without the seed she desired, and Hitty would never leave him to such a fate. Plaything to a demihuman witch far from any human lands.

As she continued running her hand over him, she felt his goosebumps fade and he stopped shivering. Crouched down beside the table, Hitty was able to stroke his stomach and chest with her right hand while her left hand absent-mindedly brushed his damp bangs out of his eyes.

“Look at me Noah,” she said, and smiled when he turned his head back to the side. His eyes still had a slightly unfocused look, but she dared hope he recovered from whatever the dust he had breathed in soon if it came down to a fight.

She **** herself to stop that line of thought. The river witch had made a deal, and while Hitty might have doubts about her intentions, she would keep her suspicions to herself and hope that the woman was as good as her word.

Still, Hitty was not so naïve as to assume a woman who would **** a man to steal him away and **** herself on him had much in the way of honour.

The Kuniq lass pressed her lips against his again, and he responded, his mouth opening to tentatively touch her lips with his tongue. Hitty kissed him, harder, her hand flat on his trim stomach. Noah was angled slightly on the large wooden table, so his head was close enough she didn’t have to crouch too awkwardly.

As her right hand drifted up his torso, Hitty felt a flush of desire sweep through her, and for a moment she was surprised. In this situation, she was getting wet? It felt almost insulting to be enjoying the feeling of her man’s lips on hers, to thrill at how his small nipples stiffened almost like a girls would as she stroked him. But she could not deny that even with the danger, her body yearned for his.

Her hand drifted back down his torso, feeling the planes of his taut muscles beneath his soft skin. She thrust her tongue into his mouth and he moaned as her hand found his cock, cold but rapidly warming in her tender grasp. She felt him start to stiffen and she held him softly, her own breath catching as her sex started to drip. His cock twitched as she moved it, idly, back and forth and Noah sighed.

As she leaned back, the two lovers smiled at each other. Hitty languidly moved her hand up and down, once again somehow surprised that his manhood could stir and pulse in her hand so quickly. Deep down inside her, she thrilled at the thought that he, even here, clearly enjoyed her touch.

He was a handful and more now and she used her thumb to idly touch him on the bottom of his tip, feeling the incredibly soft skin as he twitched and gave a little gasp.

“Good, he is ready.”

Keeping her expression bland, Hitty glanced back and saw the river witch who called herself Kasagea shrug out of her robe, her gaze avid on the stiff prick in front of her. The demihuman’s body was thin but corded with lean muscle, her light grey skin not the same pinkish sort of pale that Hitty was used to seeing from some of the southern peoples. Dark nipples stood out on small breasts, and she had some hair under her arms as well as a thick patch between her legs.

“I need his seed, so tell me before he is close so I can gather it, but I will ride him first,” the shifter spoke mostly to Hitty, which rankled the Kuniq lass, as if Noah wasn’t there. He was clearly somewhat out of sorts from whatever powder he had breathed in, but Hitty felt that Kasagea was talking to her instead for a reason more than that. Perhaps she was, deep down, embarrassed by the undeniable fact she had stolen him and did not want to interact with him directly.

Now, if only Hitty had any idea if that was a sign that the witch would keep to her bargain or not.

The shifter lifted herself onto the large table, hunched over under the low ceiling as she delicately moved her tiny feet towards Noah. Hitty moved her hand away as the other woman gave a low exhalation, almost a bark, of eager desire. Crouched on the balls of her feet, the shifter swung one leg over Noah’s prone body, and Hitty felt a sudden surge of some nameless emotion as she saw how matted with juices the woman’s hairy sex was, and smelt her desire in the air.

Noah made a quiet sound as he held his breath, then mumbled “Cold,” almost to himself. Hitty moved her arm away from the witch as she lined up above him, but kept her hand on his cheek.

“Look at me, tatik, we can talk while this proud woman enjoys you. Like we all have, neh?” His eyes met Hitty’s again and he nodded.

With a low guttural sound, the river witch lowered her body down, and Hitty had to look. Her cunny lips split as Noah’s wide cockhead poked up into her, and she growled and paused before moving down cautiously. Her slow movements and tense posture had Hitty wondering if she was tight as a maiden, the ancestors knew that her man would fill up most any woman.

The river witch gave a low growl as her body finally swallowed all of him, then closed her unusual eyes and twitched, a slow smile showing her tiny, sharp teeth.

She was still stroking his face gently, so Hitty turned and kissed Noah again as the shifter began to haltingly rise above him and then lower herself again. She kissed the tip of his nose and he whispered, “Tatik?”

His gentle eyes filled her vision and she felt a rush of blood to her face. But this situation, mad as it was, felt like no place to dissemble or hide. With a whisper meant only for him, one the hissing woman now moving up and down on his cock wouldn’t hear even if she wanted to, Hitty said, “It means ‘love’. My love.”

She saw his expression shift, his face lighting up in a happy smile. He took a breath, as if wondering what to say, but Hitty impulsively pressed her lips to his again, not sure what she even wanted to hear in this moment. His mouth opened and she chased his tongue even as the sound of wet slapping picked up and the table, for all it’s sturdiness, began to rock as Kasagea started mumbling and spitting unknown words and oaths, then gave a long laugh of delight.

The young sailor couldn’t help it, so she turned her head and looked. The river witch was vibrating with pleasure as she slammed her body up and down, and Noah gave a small grunt of discomfort at her energetic but unskilled movement. For a few long minutes she watched, frowning and planning, as she held onto Noah and hid his face so he could not see the demihuman’s casual indifference to using his so thoughtlessly.

Luckily, several minutes was all it took. The macâhcâhk went still and gave a loud cry of release, then her body trembled as she sat up straight, her lower body twisting back and forth as she came. Hitty could see her juices flowing freely, coating Noah’s groin, even as she gave one last laugh and pulled off of him. With shaky legs, the naked witch hopped off the table and gave Hitty a crooked smile with no little degree of pleased self-satisfaction.

“I am done sailor-girl, let me get a bowl for his seed. You can use your hand to help him finish, or your mouth if you wish to taste a strong woman’s cunt, but do not waste a drop of him!” With a final smirk, she turned to the small bench near the banked fire pit, her hands reaching through the dishes and knickknacks she had reclaimed from the river.

Hitty felt a surge of jealousy and anger, but knew the woman was goading her. Perhaps she hoped to make Hitty break their agreement, but instead of replying she reached out and took hold of Noah again, ignoring the slick wetness that coated him as she stroked him.

“I’m not that far, thank you Hitty,” he said, “this feels quite nice.” He had spoken firmly so the witch heard him too, and Hitty was sure his implied judgement of the rough sex of the macâhcâhk versus her loving ministration was not missed.

Moving her hand faster, Hitty could feel Noah relax and his eyes fluttered in that cute way he had of foretelling his own climax. The witch was back, standing next to the table, a small clay jar at the ready. With her left hand, she held the jar close to the steward’s cock as Hitty’s hand moved it up and down, and Hitty could see it was a suitable vessel. Slightly wider than his cock, Kasagea held the jar against his stomach, but angled toward Hitty.

“Ok Noah, whenever you are ready. Let us get your thick come out of you, your seed freely given,” Hitty said breathlessly as she felt her arm getting tired. With her left hand she took the jar from the witch, to have it ready.

Sure enough, Noah moaned and said, “Yes, now!”

Hitty felt his cock twitch in her hand and she saw his scrotum suddenly contract. Holding him firmly, she gave one last pump while angling his cock towards his head, pressing the jar against him perfectly in time to catch his first eruption.

She counted 5 separate squirts into the jar, his thick white fluid splashing as the river witch wordlessly expressed her approval. Even as he twitched, she gently stroked him again, milking every drop into the jar.

With a final sigh, Noah went still. The river witch was all but hopping in her excitement, and she rather rudely grabbed the jar out of Hitty’s hand even as the lass went to hand it over.

“At last!” Kasagea hissed, holding the jar and looking inside. She held it to her nose and took a deep breath, which Hitty tried to ignore as she let go of Noah’s cock and moved up to kiss him again as he lay on the table. The shifter was moving around and she turned to take her jar back to her bench of powders and ingredients.

As Hitty finished her kiss, Noah flinched. “Ouch,” he said, frowning, and Hitty pulled back. “It’s nothing, this table is uncomfortable.”

“Of course,” Hitty said. The witch still had her back to them, but was clearly listening. “Let’s get you up, it’s time we go. The debt is paid, our agreement is completed.”

As she helped Noah sit up, he groaned in pain again, like a tired old man standing up. Hitty looked at his clothes, all ripped and torn, and thought she would just grab it all and get him out of the house first before trying to find if he could wear any of it now.

Kasagea turned back, her face impassive. She looked at Hitty as the Kuniq was helping Noah stand up.

“Hitty, I… I…” Noah mumbled then shook his head, and Hitty froze. A glance showed the witch fighting to keep a triumphant look from her face, and then Noah swayed and had to lean back against the table again.

Her voice loud, the macâhcâhk said, “You must go now, Hitty of the Ice Sea, daughter of Jissika! Our agreement is over, and you must leave my home, immediately, never to return, or the guest rites are void and I will deal with you as a trespasser!”

As she spoke, Noah’s eyes fluttered and Hitty gritted her teeth. So, it was to be like this, then. Only now did Hitty see a small scratch on Noah’s hip, a thin line of blood. Hitty turned to look at the witch, and sure enough she had a metal cap on one finger like a thimble, but tipped with a small needle for scratching and injecting. The woman did not even hide it, but instead smiled, showing all her teeth.

“You must leave, but if the man wishes to stay, he may.” Even as she spoke, Noah slumped again as the narcotic worked through his blood. “Stay and die, or leave. It means nothing to me girl, but this man clearly wishes to stay and be my consort. Lay back down, my lover, and I will ride you again and again! I have a potion that will keep you hard as iron for days!”

Hitty stood up straight and proud. The witch was on the other side of the table, ready for an attack, her face growing long and more inhuman even as her body grew and skin thickened. Noah was swaying between them, barely able to stand even leaning against the table. In the tight confines of the house, with the macâhcâhk ready, Hitty doubted she would be able to get a good attack in with her harpoon, even if she had it in hand. It would be futile to even try.

To fight the river witch like this, in her home, under her terms, was to die.

Her face stone, Hitty turned on her heel and walked to the door.

“Yes girl, this man is mine now, you can find another, I’m sure.”

At the doorway, Hitty took up her unaaq in her left hand and, with a smooth spin to her right, turned to face the macâhcâhk, throwing her harpoon in the same motion even as the river witch howled with violent glee.