Night Watch

The fire in the brazier popped, a sharp sound that made Mulan flinch. She was kneeling on the rug, her bare chest heaving, her nipples hardened by the cool air and the sheer terror of the situation. Her eyes were fixed on my waist, where my belt hung loose, the buckle gleaming in the firelight.

"Well?" I asked, my voice low and expectant. "The Huns won't wait, and neither will I."

Mulan swallowed hard. She looked at the tent flap, terrified that Shang or Yao might walk in. Then she looked back at me. She knew the cost of refusal.

With trembling hands, she reached out. Her fingers brushed against my trousers. She was clumsy, inexperienced, her hands calloused from the sword training but shaking like a leaf.

She pulled down my pants.

When I sprang free, her eyes widened. She let out a soft, involuntary gasp. In this world of ancient China, where modesty was law, the sight of a man, especially one of my size and aura, was overwhelming.

"It's... big," she whispered, her voice slipping into her natural, feminine tone.

"Just for you," I smirked. I reached down and tangled my hand in her messy topknot, gripping her hair firmly. "Open."

Mulan opened her mouth. She hesitated, unsure of the mechanics. She was a sheltered girl from a traditional family, thrown into a war camp and now kneeling before a predator.

I didn't wait. I guided her forward.

I pressed the head against her lips. She parted them, her breath hot and erratic against my skin.

I pushed in.

She gagged slightly as I filled her mouth, her eyes watering instantly.

"Relax your throat," I commanded, holding her there. "Breathe through your nose. You're a soldier now, Mulan. Adapt."

She tried. She wrapped her small, warm lips around me, bobbing her head tentatively. It was sloppy, ****, and incredibly hot. The contrast between the rough military setting and the soft, terrified girl servicing me was intoxicating.

I leaned back into the cushions, watching her.

I watched her cheeks hollow out. I watched her hand tentatively touch my thigh for balance. I watched the tears leak from the corners of her eyes as she **** herself to take more of me than she thought possible.

"Deeper," I growled, pushing her head down.

Gulk.

She made a choked noise, her body tensing, but she didn't pull away. She took it. She let me use her mouth, her throat, her dignity.

"Good girl," I murmured, stroking her hair. "Just like that. Serve your Inspector."

I didn't go easy on her. I established the pace. I thrust into her mouth, making her moan around my cock, a muffled sound of submission. I owned her breath. I owned her rhythm.

After ten minutes of relentless use, I felt the pressure build.

I grabbed her hair tighter, pulling her head back so she was looking up at me, eyes glazed and wet.

"Open wide."

I pulled out and fired.

I painted her face. Thick, hot ropes of seed landed on her cheeks, her chin, her lips. She flinched with every pulse but kept her eyes open, watching the consequences of her deal.

I finished, leaving her messy and marked.

"Clean up," I ordered, tossing her a silk cloth from the table. "And bind yourself. Training starts at dawn."

Mulan scrambled to wipe her face, her hands shaking so hard she nearly dropped the cloth. She grabbed her binding linen from the floor and began to wrap herself furiously, hiding the woman back inside the soldier. She pulled the tunic over her head, then the armor.

She stood up, transformed back into "Ping," though her lips were swollen and her eyes were haunted.

She saluted, a jerky, terrified motion.

"Dismissed," I said, picking up my tea.

She fled the tent into the cold night air.

The next morning, the camp was a symphony of groans and shouting.

Li Shang was in a foul mood. He was running the men through drills that would have killed a horse.

"Let's get down to business!" Shang shouted, shirtless and glistening with sweat, wielding a bo staff. "To defeat... the Huns!"

I stood on the raised platform overlooking the training field, arms crossed, watching.

The men were struggling. Ling tripped over his own feet. Chien-Po was out of breath.

And Ping...

She was struggling the hardest. She was exhausted from the night before. Her legs were shaky, her focus shattered. Every time she looked up at the platform and saw me watching, she faltered.

Shang noticed.

He walked over to her during archery practice. Mulan couldn't even pull the string back properly. Her arrow flopped onto the ground three feet away.

"Ping!" Shang barked. "Focus! You're holding back the entire unit!"

"Sorry, Captain!" Mulan squeaked, retrieving her arrow.

I walked down the steps.

The camp went silent. The High Inspector was moving.

I walked straight to Mulan.

She froze, clutching her bow like a lifeline. She smelled of sweat and the lingering scent of my sex, masked by dust.

"Captain Li," I said smoothly, stopping beside the trembling soldier. "Perhaps the boy needs... hands-on correction."

Shang frowned but stepped back. "Of course, Inspector."

I moved behind Mulan.

I pressed my chest against her back. To the others, it looked like I was adjusting her stance. To Mulan, it was a terrifying reminder of last night.

"Spread your legs," I whispered in her ear.

She obeyed instantly, widening her stance.

I reached around and grabbed her arms, guiding the bow. My hands were large, enveloping hers. I pulled the string back for her, using my strength.

I leaned in close, my chin resting on her shoulder.

"Your arm is shaking, Mulan," I whispered, so low only she could hear. "Are you tired?"

"N-no, sir," she stammered, staring at the target.

"You should be," I murmured. "You worked hard last night."

I pressed my hips forward. Through the armor, she felt the hardness of me pressing against her buttocks.

She gasped, the arrow slipping.

Thwack.

It hit the outer ring of the target. Not a bullseye, but a hit.

"Better," I announced loudly, stepping back.

I looked at Shang.

"He has potential. But he lacks... stamina."

I looked back at Mulan, my eyes dark and amused.

"Report to my tent again tonight, Ping. We need to work on your... grip strength."

The other soldiers snickered, thinking it was just extra punishment duty. Yao nudged Ling. "Poor guy. The Inspector is going to break him."

Mulan went pale. She lowered her bow, nodding slowly.

"Yes, Inspector."

I walked away, leaving her standing there in the dust, marked, owned, and dreading the sunset.

The war was coming. But for Mulan, the real battle was in my tent.