Strange Bedfellows [M/F, Light Bondage, Maledom]

Once night had truly fallen, your new follower elected to spend the night in the branches of the tree atop your barrow—sleeping in trees was, apparently, her custom, and she had some resilience to the cold of night.

Which left you alone with your prisoner.

Ladrieth was the first to speak. “I want to help.”

You kneel down next to her, and pull back the roots and weeds covering her eyes. “I’m listening.”

“The goblins are one thing,” she says. “They’re actually a threat to the town. They hurt people. But this goes beyond that. The dryad, the pixies, and who knows who or what else—it's indescriminate.”

“You were part of it.” Your voice is low. “There is, most likely, an ongoing effort to wipe us out, and you were part of it.”

“I was,” she says, “and I was wrong. I didn’t understand the full depth of it at the time, and I was misled as to the nature of the quest, but I still accepted it. But I can help, and I want to.”

“You must realize,” you say, “what that will entail. It will not end peacefully.”

“It can’t be avoided at this point,” she says, “but there is something to be said for precision.”

Precision…

You draw your blade. Ladrieth’s eyes go wide. You bring your sword down…

And sever the roots and vines that bind her in a single swipe.

She looks around herself at the discarded bindings, and inspects herself for any injury.

“That was…” she trails off.

“Precise.” You smirk, sliding your blade back into its scabbard. “Precision is something I am entirely capable of, I assure you.” You reach down to help her up. “But to be precise in this, I need to know where to strike.”

“I take it you’ll be needing some sort of guarantee?” She asks.

“A oath of fidelity is guarantee enough.”

It takes her a second. “Magic promises, right. That’s pretty handy.”

You smile. “It has its uses.”

Together, you vow allegiance. Together, you speak of fidelity, of unity, of promise. She swears before the gods, upon the magic in her blood, and by the light of the stars. You swear before the Shining Courts, upon your blade, and by the glory of your master’s crown.

…Crown? He wore a–

No, not now. Consider it another time.

Actually…

You open your character sheet, and flip over to the Fame tab.

Fame: 190 [+?? Pending]

Recent Activity:

Forged an Alliance! +49 [+?? Pending] (Expanded)

Allied with a Hero! +20

Hero is a guild member. +10

Hero is a guild representative. +10

An Oath, Thrice-Sworn. +9

Allied with a Guild! +?? [Pending]

Ladrieth looks over to your menu. “Damn, that’s a lot of Fame.”

“Before this, it was mostly from one or two trades—when you literally can’t cheat your partner, it’s easy to build up a reputation for honest dealing.” You close the menu. “Though I’ve never seen a score listed as pending before.”

“Neither have I,” she says, “I’ve only ever actually seen it used by player guilds, and we get it by completing quests, mostly. I didn’t know a person could get any on their own.”

But you are living proof that it's possible. It certainly seems like a versatile resource—all seemingly leading back to the Claimant Crystal. “And you’ve interacted with it because you’re a representative of your guild?”

“Technically, yeah.” She shrugs. “We’re pretty small, just the three of us, so we just talk things through until we all agree.”

Regardless, it may be to your benefit. “Do you think you can get the other two to join us in this?”

Ladrieth thinks for a moment. “Probably? Once I tell them everything that’s going on, they’ll probably be willing. Worst case, they won’t get in the way.”

You nod. It’s the best you can ask for at the moment. “Now, if I am to be precise, I must know my enemy.”

“Right, okay.” She flicks open a menu. “The person I got my quest from was Toloran Raethor, Marshal of Thaeldir’s Crossing. He’s been the one in charge in town since the goblin raid.”

“Did the raid change things much? Aside from property damage and theft, that is.”

“Oh, yeah. They killed a bunch of the people who were running things before. Just let me check the log for the Brogung quest…” She trails off, and swipes across the screen a few times. “That’s… the mayor, a few aldermen, the old marshal, and a… a reeve, I think is how it’s pronounced. I’m not sure what that is.”

“I believe it’s a type of legal official.” Your understanding of non-fey legal practices is severely limited, but you picked that small piece up at some point. You aren’t entirely sure where or when.

“That makes sense. It also says they burned down the Aldermens’ Palace, and kidnapped a few members of their families.” The slaves held by the goblins, presumably. But why only those related to the Aldermen? She wipes the screen away. “Now that I think about it, the goblin attack really opened up the field for Toloran to take power. He couldn’t have planned it better.”

Planned it? No, he couldn’t. He had no control over the goblin tribe. But…

“Idgrod.” You say, suddenly. “You and your friends told me that crow, her familiar, tried to stop you from killing Brogung. She has no love for anything, meaning Brogung, or at least Brogung's rule, was useful to her somehow.”

She blinks, twice. “Hold on, are you saying he's not in charge anymore?”

You shake your head, and give her an abbreviated account of what you know.

“There’s not a whole lot of evidence for or against Idgrod's involvement,” you say, “but it would match her tendencies; using Brogung as a cat's paw to set up a regime change in Thaeldir's Crossing is the sort of contrivance a hag would find appealing.”

“But if Toloran is trying to wipe out the creatures in the forest,” she says, “that would include her. She’s painted a target on her back.”

“It’s indirect and confusing, yes,” you say, “but she’s a hag. They never do things directly, and they enjoy confusing others. This would only be one step in her plan, and her true objective would be something else.”

“But,” says Ladrieth, “she would need to have someone in town, maybe a few, to keep an eye on things.”

“And possibly to act on her behalf.” You rub your chin. “In which case, it could be very important for us to keep our alliance a secret. The less she knows, the less she can plan for.” Something true of any enemy, but especially one so cunning as this. She is much more accustomed to labyrinthine scheming than you are.

Ladrieth thinks for a moment. “You’re going to have to kill me.”

“What!?” You physically recoil. The very idea makes you want to wretch. She’s your ally, bound by magic and your solemn vow.

“I can’t just walk back!” Ladrieth grabs your wrists. “If she’s the sort of creature you say she is, then you’re right about us needing to keep this a secret. I was blindfolded to keep me from leading anyone here, so it wouldn’t make sense if you just let me walk away.”

You take a few breaths to calm yourself. She’s right. That’s even how you were planning to handle things, at first. But that changed. You gave your word.

But… but it is her own idea. It works towards your mutual ends. And it wouldn’t even cause any permanent harm. Indeed, it would not be a betrayal of your newly forged pact, but an affirmation. Your first play in the game to come. How could you have forgotten the importance of context?

You tell Ladrieth as much, and add, “So before that business, we should form a broader outline for our plan.”

“Right,” says Ladrieth, “There are still other quest-givers in Thaeldir’s Crossing. I can push my guild to do things for them. Defeating Brogung gave us a little cache with the other low-level guilds, and a lot of leeway with the NPCs in town. We can help give other people the power to challenge Toloran.”

You nod. “Meanwhile, I can start to rally the forest together.” You open the Fame tab again, and pull up the [Fey Liegelord] option. “The cost goes up pretty quickly, but I can afford a few more ranks in this. It’s a bit of a balancing act, since I receive a bonus to my Charisma and Presence that scales with my Fame, but I can always build up more.”

“And rallying the forest under your banner will make it harder for adventurers to come slaying.”

“Right.” You describe how she can reach your barrow from Thaeldir’s Crossing—the easiest path is following the river up to one of its tributaries, and eventually the stream that runs through your clearing.

“Idgrod won’t be able to make another familiar for a while yet. Twenty-five days, I believe.”

“Twenty-five?”

“Twenty-seven total,” you say, “three days, thrice-fold thrice.”

She seems to grasp it. You ask her if there’s anything else to handle before you… send her off.

“Well,” she says, “there is, uh, one thing.” She crosses her arms behind her back, and starts to blush.

Wait…

“Really?”

Her blush grows fiercer. “Well, I, uh, well.” She calms herself with a couple breaths. “I like being tied up. It’s part of a whole submissive thing. And you had me tied up for a while on your back, and then on the floor.” She rubs her thighs together. “And then I was bound by the magic, just like last time, and it felt like being tied up, just with magical senses instead of normal.”

That still didn't explain why she could feel the binding of the oath, that was unusual even for spellcasters. But you have more immediate concerns.

“Well.” You walk up next to her, and place a hand on her hip, gingerly pressing the tips of your fingers into the fabric of her tunic, up against her thigh. “I can’t tie you back up, I’m afraid. No rope.” You place a hand on her cheek and title her head up to look at you. “So instead, why don’t you tell me what else you like?”

Ladrieth’s blush is almost as bright and red as her eyes, which turn quickly to the floor. She shuffles her arms a bit behind her back. “Well, like I said, it’s part of a more general sub thing. It’s like, it feels good to give myself over to someone else, who I can trust not to push me further than I’m comfortable with. Who respects the boundaries I set.”

The way she describes it is not unfamiliar, but this too was lost in the fog of memory. It sounds like such an intimate exchange—not only physically, but emotionally.

You lean into her ear to whisper. "All that, until you leave. I like the sound of those terms. Do we have a deal?"

Ladrieth is trembling a little, now, but her nod is unmistakable.

You gently move your hand down from her face to her shoulder, before abruptly pushing her back against the wall, pinning her arms.

“So,” you whisper in her ear, “where are those boundaries of yours?”

“I’ll, uh,” she stammers, her voice having jumped in pitch, somewhat, “I’ll be sure to let you know, sir.”

You chuckle. “Sir?”

She nods, wordlessly, and biting her lip.

Oh?

Slowly, you slide the hand on her waist down to her thigh, to the gap between the hem of her tunic and the hem of her stocking. Your fingers dance across her skin to the inside of her thigh, and then up, up, up–

Ladrieth gasps as you slide a finger inside of her. She was certainly being honest about how much she enjoyed the evening, judging by how wet she is.

You lean down to whisper in her ear, “Do you like that? Does my submissive little sorcerer like being played with?”

“Yes,” she hisses.

Smirking, you pull your finger out of her. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught that.”

“Yes, sir.”

You plunge your finger back into her unceremoniously. Another little gasp.

“That’s good to hear,” you whisper. “Now, won’t you tell me what you want to do you?”

She tries, she really does, but she can’t quite get the words out. No doubt she’s already aching for release after all that time tied up. Not helped, you’re sure, by some measure of embarrassment. You slip a second finger in.

“Come on,” you whisper, “if you don’t tell me what you want, I can’t give it to you.”

She whines, but now she actually manages to get a word out. “Clit.” Her voice is low and breathless.

Still working your fingers inside her, you use your thumb to feel around at the top of her folds, slowly and meticulously. After a few moments, you find her little nub, and her breath hitches. She doesn’t have long to catch it, as you drag your thumb against and around her nub in slow, lazy circles.

It isn’t long before she’s clenching around your fingers, her body writhing against the wall, against you. Her head falls into the crook of your neck as she moans your name in fits and starts. You push harder, pinning her upright against the wall as her legs give out underneath her.

When, at last, Ladrieth is able to stand under her own power again, you let up on the pressure, letting her step away from the wall and freeing her arms. She looks up and you, wobbling slightly on her feet, and then down at your crotch—at the bulge in your pants

The corners of your mouth quirk up. “Not satisfied?”

“Oh no,” she says, “it was very satisfying. For me. But it doesn't look like it was for you.” She moves her hand to your crotch, rubbing your bulge. Her red eyes meet your gold. “Did you like playing with me, sir?”

You reach around her and give her ass a squeeze. “You make for a wonderful toy.”

She shivers against you. “It was so nice being played with gently, sir. But I’m a tough girl. I can take it rough.”

You bring your other hand down, smacking her other cheek.

She jolts lightly at the sudden contact. “Thank you, sir,” she gasps.

You dig your fingers into her, squeezing her luscious ass, grinding her against your crotch and pinning the hand she has there. “Is that what you want? Do you want it rough?”

“Yes, sir,” she groans.

“Boundaries?”

“I’ll, uh,” she stammers for a second, “I’ll just tell you if something’s too much, sir.”

You crease your brow. “And if your mouth is occupied?”

She shudders under your hands. “Fuck. I’ll just tap you a bunch, or something.” Immediately, you smack her ass again, hard, and she moans. “Sir,” she says, “I’m sorry, sir.” She leans her chest into yours, a devilish glint in her eyes, sliding her free hand over your chest. “You know, sir, maybe I don’t need to signal you at all. I need to respawn. You can **** me on your cock and your cum, and send me back that way.” She flutters a few kisses on your neck. “Fuck. I’m not usually into the **** stuff, sir, but that sounds so hot right now.”

You're already well past hard from everything that’s happened, but now she’s really getting to you. You growl at her. “On your knees, slut.”

Still a touch unsteady on her legs, it takes Ladrieth a second to get down, giving you time to set your sword aside, and slip out of your boots. When you have, she’s staring up at you, her head just about level with your bulge.

“May I take it out, sir? Please?”

At your nod, she immediately sets about opening the front of your pants, only for your cock to smack her upside the face.

She stares at it. “Oh. Oh, wow.”

You quirk an eyebrow down at her, and she gets back some of her earlier blush.

“You’re pretty big, sir.” She leans in, and you can feel her tongue teasing the base of your cock. She purrs, dragging her slick tongue up from the base. When she reaches your head, she gives you a wink, and wraps her lips around it. As she kneels there, bobbing on your cock, her bright red eyes staring up at you, you know that you want more.

You take hold of her head with both hands, weaving your fingers into her hair. She looks up at you, eyes shining, and smiling around your cockhead. You pull her into a thrust. And then another. Each one pushes deeper into her mouth—that is, until you push past, and feel the tighter passage behind. With each thrust you push a little further into her throat, and with each thrust you can hear her gag.

You sheathe yourself in her mouth, her nose pressed up against your crotch, reveling in the feeling of her gagging and **** and swallowing around you. The sound of wet shlicking reaches your ears from below, and you don’t have to look to know what it is. When you pull partway out of her mouth, she coughs up spit onto her tunic, which pulls it down, pooling in the valley between her breasts. You only give her a moment to catch her breath before pushing yourself back in.

This time, you settle into a rhythm thrusting into her mouth. You’ve been building up for a while, teasing and rubbing up against Ladrieth. You don’t try to hold it back, just reveling in the sensations of her mouth and throat. It doesn’t take long for you to start unloading. Ladrieth gags more, chokes more. You hold her down, sending rope after rope down her throat.

You feel a manic tapping on your leg. The signal.

With a gentle thrust of your hips, and a slight shove with your hands, you push her off your cock. She coughs up cum and spit onto her face and onto her breasts. You notice the wet streaks down her face—right, crying is normal for this sort of thing.

It takes her a few moments to catch her breath. “Sorry. Self-preservation, I guess.”

“No need to apologize,” you say, “we agreed to a signal, and you used it.”

“Hah,” she panted, “I rushed through that part too quickly. Should have been more care–“ She trails off when she looks up.

You’re still rock-hard.

“What the fuck.”

“It’s a developing situation.”

“You definitely came.”

“I did,” you say, “and before very recently, I’d be soft by now. It’s something I still need to look into.” You aren’t familiar with anything that could have caused it, but you know it got first happened during your session at the goblin village.

“Well…” she trails off for a second. “I’m still wet?”

You reach down to help her up. "You sure."

She nods. "Yes, I am."

You flash her a grin. “Hands against the wall.”

She practically bounces as she turns, placing her hands on the wall. Her back arches, and she wiggles her ass at you enticingly.

It isn’t long before you’ve stripped your legs bare, and your cock is free. You bring your hands down on her cheeks with a smack, and she thanks you for it. Her hips are lower than yours, so you have her tilt them upwards. You slide your hands up the curve of her ass, dragging the skirt of her tunic out of the way. The sight of her bare ass is a delicious one, pert and smooth and round. Using one of your hands to steady your cock, you kiss its tip to her lower lips, and push your head inside. She coos at the feeling of it, but you interrupt that with another firm smack to her luscious ass, and squeeze it.

She jumps a little, and responds quickly. “Thank you, sir.”

You slide your other hand from her waist up her arching back to her shoulder, and grab it. Holding her like that, you push deeper inside her, slowly and steadily. You glide into her easily, but you meet a very sudden resistance not too far from her entrance.

“Please, sir,” she says, “I want it so bad.”

You drive into her, tearing past her hymen. She lets out a sound part-way between a grunt and a gasp.

“You good?” You ask.

“Yes sir,” she says, “thank you sir. It hurts good. Keep going.”

Hurts good, does it?

You don’t give her any time to adjust. You drive deeper. In a couple thrusts, you’re hilted in her. Soon enough, she’s thrusting back to meet you, and the sound of thighs slapping fills your barrow. You smack her ass every few thrusts, but never the same number twice. Every time she gives a little jump,every time she thanks you, and every time she grows louder, more ****.

Your hand on her shoulder trails down, and ducks under her arm. You grab a breast, and it more than fills your grasp. Her hard nipple digs lightly into your palm. You squeeze, hard, and she moans.

You aren’t paying close attention to the time, but it doesn’t feel like it’s long until she starts shuddering, and before her walls start clenching around you.

“Oh fuck,” she gasps, “thank you sir thank you thank you thank you.”

You keep pounding her, and she keeps cumming. Your release has been simmering for a while now, and you’re at your limit. You drive as deep into her as you can, and let go. You revel in it, shooting rope after rope deep inside her. Her legs collapse underneath her, and as she falls to her knees you slip out, and shoot the last couple spurts onto her back.

You grab her long, blonde hair at the scalp and pull her head back, so that her face is right next to your cock, covered in her juices and your cum.

“Clean me off,” you command.

She attends to it eagerly. Her tongue lathers your cock and your balls, drawing the mess you both made into her hungry mouth. It isn’t long before its clean, save for her spit, and then she drags most of that off with her lips. She lets go of you with a pop.

"Fuck."

Ladrieth chuckles. "Yeah, we did."

You laugh harder at that than is probably warranted.

You settle down on the ground next to her. "So, how are you feeling?"

"Pretty damn good." She rolls over onto her hip, propping herself up on one arm. "I've needed something like that for a while. Even if I am kind of a mess."

"Yeah," you say, "I did a number on your tunic."

"I appreciate your worrying about me, but you don't need to."

You raise an eyebrow at her.

"Right, uh," she thinks for a second, "you know that Heroes can be both Active and Inactive?"

You nod. "Seen the shift a few times. The change in personality can be pretty dramatic."

"It can. It's, uh, pretty complicated. I'll be honest, I don't really know the fiddly bits of how it works. But the upshot here is that Active Heroes don't have to deal with sub drop."

You blink. Twice. Huh.

"That sounds really useful."

Ladrieth leans over to grab her staff from where it rolled to after you cut her loose. "Speaking of Active Heroes, it's getting pretty late. I should probably get back to town while my guildmates still are. Things'll go faster if I can explain what's going on tonight.

You can't fault her logic. After making sure she has her staff equipped, so that it didn't drop as loot, a single carefully-placed strike does the job. And once more, you are alone.

Tapping the barrow wall, you bring up the menu to remodel your home. The "Lair Entranceway" is the first step to building up your new stronghold. To growing your new power.

You look around yourself. For longer than you can remember, it was the tomb of your master. For longer than you can remember, it has been your home.

One more night in the old barrow won't hurt.