A Well-Treated Prisoner, But a Prisoner Nonetheless

Korr stands on the balcony at the top of the tower, overlooking the surrounding region under the midday sun. He carefully studies the landscape, planning escape routes through the forests and mountains. He doesn't mean to do so, but it is a learned reflex; After all, he is a prisoner here. An exceptionally well-treated prisoner, all things considered, but a prisoner nonetheless. Anyways, he knows that this planning is useless; As long as he is under the crone's spell, escape is not a real option.

Furthermore, his earlier strategy seems to be slowly turning against him. He had planned to use the hag's attraction towards him as a tool to gain her trust and facilitate his escape, but each passing day sees him falling deeper into his own trap. He mumbles orcish curses as he realizes that he might have been betrayed by his own heart. Could it be that he is truly developing feelings for the witch?

A carriage on the road catches his attention, allowing him to focus on analysis and strategical machinations... anything to stop thinking about his dumb feelings...

It is a lavish vehicle, pulled by a floating sphere instead of any beasts of burden. Another magic-inclined person, Korr guesses. He observes it carefully, taking in every detail he can about the transport. The colors and the symbols on the exterior remind him of elvish craftsmanship, and the floating sphere feels wholly different than Stella's magic.

Stella's magical artifacts favor natural sources, such as wood, bones, and naturally occurring rocks and minerals. In many ways, her magic reminds him of the witch-doctors and shamans of his people. The sphere pulling the chariot, on the other hand, is sculpted gold, aiming for a slick and sophisticated aesthetic. This is not a carriage that the witch sent to retrieve someone; Whoever is inside is driving their own vehicle, using their own magic.

It rolls towards the tower, stopping at the end of the road. Korr bends over the railing to observe the object of his interest. The carriage door opens, and a gruff man wearing bear fur jumps down.

"Kazath," Korr whispers, making out enough of his features to recognize the half-orc. The barbarian leads a group of bandits in the mountains, which hold no allegiance to any nations. He has met them once, when his Shepherds were ambushed on the bandits' territories. The man has no honor, Korr thinks, but he damn well knows how to fight. He could be an invaluable assets in the war against the Kingdom of Gallade.

Kazath holds his hand towards the carriage's open door, and his gruff hairy arm is soon met by a slender, lace-covered arm. A beautiful human... no, half-elf, exits the chariot. There is no doubt in Korr's mind that this newcomer must be the magician responsible for the intricate sphere. He squints to try and get a better view, but at the height of the balcony he stands on, he is too far away to make out whether the half-elf is a man or a woman.

Kazath helps his friend down, and then places a hand against their lower-back before saying something that makes the magician laugh. They take a bit of distance from one another as they approach the tower. These two are boning, but they don't want to make it too obvious, Korr guesses. They disappear from his line of sight as they reach the tower's front door, directly below his balcony.

Korr swiftly runs back into the tower, looking for the witch. He is curious to see what she has planned with her two new guests, and he cannot help but wonder if these plans include him.

He catches her just as she's exiting her alchemical laboratory, and they both stop moving when they arrive face to face. A minute ago, his mind was intent on questioning the witch about Kazath and the beautiful magician, but her mere sight has brushed all of his tactical thoughts away. She is gorgeous, glowing, graceful... Her dark red dress hugs her form, showing off her wide hips and her sizable breasts. Have they... Have they grown bigger?

"Korr?" Her voice is steady, but her eyes follow him with careful interest. He wonders if the feeling she shows towards him are genuine or if she employs the same subterfuge that he had planned to put up at first. She certainly seems to enjoy spending time with him, but sh-

"Korr?" She repeats, this time louder and with a bit of a frown, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Yes, hum... You have visitors."

She lifts an eyebrow. "I know. I invited them."

She walks past him, leaving him standing there like an idiot. He should've told her how good she looks. Or maybe not, maybe it's best to not make it look like he cares as much about her as he truly does.

"Korr," she repeats, again. "Are you going to spend the rest of the day standing around, or do you want to accompany me to greet our guests?"

He does a double take at her invitation. He rushes to her side, trying his best to be attentive to her words and his surrounding. He is not usually this lunatic, but there is something about Stella that just messes up his rational brain. He tries to feel her magic, to know if maybe she's actively influencing him or not, but he doesn't feel anything out of the ordinary. Maybe he acts like a fool around her, because he simply is a fool. A fool in love. That last thought makes his stomach feel fuzzy.

They reach the entry hall together, a lavish room with marble sculptures and red carpets. Stella's architectural and ornamental tastes are the polar opposite of how she crafts magical items.

"Sasha! Kazath! Welcome to my domain!"

Korr and Kazath make eye contact, and he doesn't miss the disdain in the half-orc eyes. The two warriors size each other up, flexing muscles and barring teeth. Eventually, Korr places his hand firmly on Stella's waist. His competitive spirit has helped chase away his inhibitions, and he surprises himself by how calm he feels while touching Stella's luscious curves. The look on the barbarian's face brings him almost as much pleasure as the touch itself. Kazath's fingers clench, as if a part of him also wants to put his hands on his lover. The fact that he doesn't confirms Korr's earlier guess about their secretive relationship.

The witch doesn't seem to mind Korr's hand, and she continues to talk to her guest. "Your usual rooms have been prepared, you can make yourself comfortable. The others shall arrive during the evening."

Korr's ears perk up. Others? The first two guests are already quite an odd pair, and he wonders who the others could be, and what the witch plans with them.

Wooden puppets enter the tower, carrying luggage from the magician's carriage. Sasha and Kazath bow down to the witch, and then take their leave in the direction of the tower's guest rooms. Stella leaves as well, heading towards her bedroom. Korr follows her.

She stays silent on the way up, and Korr mimics her laconism. Only once the door to her... their bedroom closes, does she open her mouth.

"What was that?" she grumbles, looking at him with hands firmly placed on her wide hips.

"What was what?"

"That little 'holding me like your doll' grab."

"I... I'm sorry, I didn't know you wanted to keep our thing secret."

"No- Come on, don't try to play dumb with me." She huffs and then folds her arms against her chest. "I don't mind people knowing that we're fucking, especially not the members of my council."

"Oh? Oh. Then, what's the issue?"

"I saw the look on Kazath's face. You wanted to assert your dominance, you wanted to show him that you were the boss or... something."

"Well, kinda, maybe a little bit."

"Is that what I am to you? Just a trophy to show off? Oh, big man, look at you! You tamed the big bad witch!"

Korr was taken aback by her statement. How could she feel insulted in this situation? "You have captured me, bound me to your lair and enchanted me for your own leisure. If anyone's a trophy here, it's gotta be me." There's a hint of anger in his voice; The witch's hypocrisy doesn't sit well with him.

She opens her mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. It's obvious from the look in her eyes that she knows he's right. Then, to his surprise, she tears up. In all their time together, he has never seen her display her emotions so overtly. He doesn't know if it is genuine, but he reacts all the same, getting down on one knee and taking her in his arms.

"Hey, don't cry, it's okay." He pats her on the head, and then holds her gently against his chest. That is the extent of what he knows to do with a sad person.

"You're right, gods, I'm the asshole here, I'm sorry. I'm not angry at you, I'm... I'm angry at myself..." She fans her eyes with her hands as more tears come out.

"And, huh... why are you angry at yourself?"

"It... it doesn't matter." She pushes him away and take a few steps, leaving him more confused than anything.

"Stella?"

"You can go." She waves her hand at him, sending arcane sparkles in his direction.

Korr feels something mystical going through him, and then a a feeling akin to a weight being lifted. "What have you done?"

"I've taken away the enchantment preventing you from leaving, and the one making you subservient. You are free to go. I had saved you a seat on tonight's meeting, but you don't have to come anymore if you'd rather leave."

Korr can barely believe what is happening. Is she telling the truth? Is this a test? Could he really leave, or would there be magical booby traps around her tower? What about the non-aggression enchantment? What is this meeting she speaks of? So many questions pile onto one another in his mind, so much so that he only manages to utter out one word: "Why?"

"Because..." she wipes her cheeks with the sleeves of her dress, the tight dress that clings to her beautiful voluptuous ass. "Because I cannot bear to keep you as a trophy anymore. I've grown fond of you, Korr, but knowing that you only stay by my side out of obligation brings me sorrow."

He is taken aback by her words. In a way, he is glad he hasn't told her about his own feelings yet; Her being the first one to reveal an interest is an advantageous position for him. He shakes his head at that last thought, realizing that it is an emotionless tactician's thought.

"You're not saying anything," she mutters, sounding hurt.

"Do you want me to leave?"

It takes her a moment to respond. Whether it is because she is building up the courage to say it, or because she has to think about her answer, he doesn't know. "No, I do not."

He considers his options. He could leave, and finds his way back to his people. He misses his home, and his fellow warriors, sure, but if he leaves, he could probably abandon his project of bringing the witch and her allies over to his side of the war. And if he leaves he can probably kiss her perfect pussy goodbye. He couldn't quite tell for sure which argument caused him to respond as he did.

He steps up to the witch, standing behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. She shivers under his touch, grabbing his fingers with her hands.

"I might stay," he says, trying to sound calmer than he truly is. "At least until tonight. I am quite intrigued by this meeting you speak of."

"I understand." Her tone is dry. Maybe she expected a declaration of love. Maybe she hoped for one.

"You said you had grown fond of me?"

She sighs and then walks away towards the bed, sitting on its edge. "I don't know, maybe..." She looks up at him, and her hopeful eyes ask the question for her. Do you feel the same?

He sits beside her on the bed. "I've grown fond of you as well," he admits. "But I cannot be sure if it is genuine, or if it is due to your enchantments."

She tenses up. "Well, now that the enchantment has been taken off, how do you feel?"

"Truth be told? I'd like to stay a while and see how I feel about you when I'm not under any arcane influence."

"I understand."

He lays back on the sheets, looking up at the ceiling. She follows his move, laying back beside him. He can feel her heat against his arm, and a part of him desesperatly wants to rip off her clothes and take her here and there.

"What made you fond of me?" He asks, turning to face her.

Her eyes open wide, and it takes her a moment to finally turn to him and meet his gaze. He extends a hand towards hers, taking it and softly rubbing her knuckles.

"If I say your dick, will you get mad?" She says, although the hint of a smile tells him that would not be a fully honest answer.

"To be fair, I do absolutely love your cunt."

Her free hand goes up to his chin, then slowly trail up against his face. "I like how smart you are. You have an inquisitive and analytical mind, which, granted, also makes you a huge pain to anyone facing you on the battlefield. I like how compassionate you are, which is a virtue I don't often see in battle-hardy warriors."

Her hand moves down on his neck, and then on his muscular hairy chest. He has noticed how often she likes to touch him there.

"It might be obvious to you by now, but Hells, I love your body. Every part of you turns me on, and I like being held by you powerful arms. And, you are an amazing lover. It might be a bit shallow, but, I do really enjoy sex with you."

"I can't complain, I love having sex with you too!" He gives her a warm smile, then adds, "speaking of... Do you wanna do it? I mean, we're already in bed."

She gives him a sultry look, then nod. He pulls her on top of him and gives her a big smooch, then helps her pull off her dress. Underneath, she is wearing a set of black lace lingerie, which looks so fucking good on her.

His dick reacts to the sight, hardening and leaking copious amounts of precum. Her ass is right on top of his crotch, so he knows she can feel his cock throbbing beneath her.

"Could you start with your mouth?" She asks, sounding almost shy. He gives her one last kiss on the lips before dropping her on her back and pulling her panties.

Her beautiful brassiere is struggling to contain her boobs, which he is now certain are larger than they were the first time he laid with her. The top of her stockings press down on her thick thighs, accentuating her perfect legs.

Just as he is about to put his face between her legs, he realizes that he wants it. He wants to be with her. He wants to have sex with her. He wants to pleasure her. He dives into her cunt with a smile.

While he eats her out, he brings his hands over onto her breasts, grabbing her soft flesh and kneading it enthusiastically. She returns his enthusiasm, hastily unhooking her bra to give his fingers better access to her nipples.

While he pleasures her, his dick leaks more precum onto the front of his pants. He takes his hands off her tits in order to unbuckle his belt and doff his clothes. Once his undergarments have been discarded, he moves up to kiss the witch's lips, letting her taste herself. Then, he pulls her against him and sits back, holding her up against his chest.

She wraps her legs around his waist while he guides his shaft against her vagina, and she seems to hold her breath while waiting for him to put it in.

They moan together when he enters her, and then their eyes meet. He pulls her down all the way, still looking into her gorgeous eyes, then stops moving once she reaches his balls. He wants to say something, but he doesn't quite know what. I like you? I love you? I love fucking you? He is unsure of his own feelings, and to avoid saying something stupid or wrong, he instead kisses her again. At least, he knows that this is genuine.

While they kiss, she grab onto his shoulders and start moving. He lets her choose the pace, wondering if she'll go tender or rough. She chooses rough.

She rides him hard, jumping up and down on his thick cock while pushing her tongue as hard as she can against his. They both know that if he wanted, he could push back with his much larger and much more powerful tongue and completely fill her mouth, but he lets her try to be the aggressive kisser for once.

While she fucks herself on his thick rod, he grabs onto her big round ass and use his grip to help her move up and down.

At one point, she pulls her mouth away and whispers, "wait," and places her hand on his chest. He stops moving, eager to keep plowing her but respectful of her demand.

"Give me your hand," she says.

He pauses, then anxiously asks, "like, in marriage?"

"What? No! I mean, hand me your hand now, I wanna do something."

Slowly, he lifts his hand up from her ass and brings it up against hers. She grabs it and pull it to her mouth, where she proceeds to sloppily suck on his thick middle finger. She drools and spits over it, making it all slick with her saliva.

"Put it up my ass," she pleads. He is surprised by her tone, by how **** her voice sounds. She obviously wants it, and she hopes that he wants it too.

Korr fullfills her wish, and brings his wet finger against her butthole. He uses his other hand to spread her cheeks, allowing him a better access to the tight quivering pucker.

Stella gasps when he starts pushing in. He can feel her vagina clenching around his manhood whenever he moves his finger deeper in her ass.

Eventually, his digit fully penetrates her, and she lets out a long sigh while squirming against his chest. Inside, his finger can sense the hardness of his dick through the walls between her holes, and he can't help but wonder how this double penetration feels for her.

Once her ass is properly plugged by his thick solid finger, she starts moving again, albeit much slower and with louder moans.

He tries moving his finger inside her, while making sure to monitor her reactions. She seems to like it when he rubs it towards his dick, and so he does just that.

"Oh, Korr," she coos, entranced by their act of debauchery.

He kisses her, this time bullying her with his tongue. His muscle is massive compared to hers, and he manages to push forth all the way into her throat. Her fingers clench against his shoulders and she lets out muffled moans against his mouth.

She shakes against him in a way that he has learned to recognize as an unpending orgasm, and so he picks up the pace and moves her up and down on his dick as if she was but a fucksleeve made for him.

She peaks while getting plowed hard, and he feels his own climax getting dangerously close while she convulses on his dick.

He pulls his tongue out of her throat and whispers her name while he erupts, sending a torrent of jizz up her birth canal.

Her legs squeeze him hard, and so does her cunt. When he realizes that her asshole is quivering around his finger, he pulls it out, which makes Stella gasps.

Once he eventually pulls out of her stretched-out pussy, he puts her on her back on her usual side of the bed, the left side, then grabs one of the cigarettes and lights it for her.

"Thank you," she weakly lets out when he puts it between her lips. She takes a puff, then adds: "See. Compassionate."

He chuckles at the comment, then lays back beside her. She slowly moves her head until she's propped up on his shoulder, grabbing his left hand with her own and dropping the back of her right hand onto his solid chest.

He lets her relax a little, enjoying their closeness. After a quiet moment, he finally asks, "So, this meeting that I'm invited at. What's it about?"

She takes a puff of her cigarette, then blows out a cloud of smoke. "It's about ending the war."