Welcome to Vratsa ♥

Authors Note: As seen above, I’ve decided to slightly change how I title chapters. Any chapter that is ~33% or more porn will be marked with a '♥'. Any chapter that is entirely, or almost entirely, porn will be marked with '♥♥'. I will be applying this retroactively as I reach the relevant chapters during the crossposting process.

(Oct16, 2025) I've combined and then heavily trimmed the notes from this chapter and the next two, putting it all here so it isn't so obnoxious and obtrusive. Or at least so that annoyance is all contained here and not spread out.

The story is up on AO3, Literotica, and Scribble Hub. Kind of. The latter two have some difficulties:

• Anything posted on Literotica needs manual approval, which means that having a consistent upload schedule over there is completely outside of my control. On top of that I very much overestimated how fast the chapters would actually get posted, so the first few are either in pairs (due to being rather short on their own) or are standalone (because I'm an idiot), but the rest will be grouped up as I see fit.
• As for Scribble Hub... due to a bug in their automated system the stuff I put up over there never got indexed, effectively being shadow banned before I had even published a single chapter. I've been trying to contact their support for a few weeks now, but haven't gotten a single response to any of the (currently 6) emails that I've sent. I'm sure that it will properly show up over there at some point (please, I'm seriously coping here), but until then... if it doesn't have any 'rankings' under the statistics tab (and if typing its name into the search gives absolutely nothing), then that means it is still unindexed. (Oct28) I had to reupload it again, but it is now indexed! It only took about 37 days...

(Nov2, 2025) The story now exists on Questionable Questing too. I don't think I'll post it in any more places than this.

Also, I should point out that I'm editing the earlier chapters and even rewriting portions of them, which has resulted in a very minor retcon: the 'motive' for Krvavy attacking/being attacked by the Orcs has changed a little. The outcome is still exactly the same though (the female Orc that would become Khalia still gets mindbroken and claimed), but I just felt like I should point that out for transparencies sake.

Each view, like, and comment truly means the world to me. Thank you for reading my story up to this point, and I hope you continue to enjoy what is to come.

“I am ever so glad that you accepted this offer of mine~...”

Krvavy can just barely hear the Countess’ soft, moaned words. The squishy pink-skinned thighs wrapped tightly around her head do wonders in muffling any and all sounds.

“Mhhh~...! You spoil me, Krvavy~...! That tongue of yours~...! Hhha~!”

Rina’s tight love tunnel clenches around the Drakling’s inhuman tongue. The long and tapered thing, with its nubs and ridges, continues to poke and prod at this noblewoman’s most sensitive spots.

“HHA~! YES~!” Delicate fingers grasp onto a fistful of crimson hair. “YESHH~!” Rina’s pleasure peaks once more, her hips bucking forwards as she grinds her twitching clit against the Drakling’s nose and face.

Sweet, lavender scented juices gush forth, squirting straight into the barbarian’s hungry mouth. A flavour reminiscent of cool and calm nights washes over Krvavy’s senses as she swallows down the Countess’ lewd liquids.

“Yheesss~! Mhhhnnh~! Mwwm~!” Rina’s gasps and moans are suddenly muffled even further.

It is difficult for Krvavy’s half-lidded eyes to see up past the Countess’ bare breasts, and not just because those large pink mounds are so eye-catching. But, still, the sight above is not one she could ever hope to miss.

The beautiful half-Elf woman that she is eating out is aggressively kissing her bratty albino maid.

“Mwwwm~! Mwaah~!” The Countess’ painted lips pull back from Vera’s pale ones, leaving glistening black smudges as evidence of their inappropriate affair. “Mwa~! Mwwah mwaah mwwha~! Mwah~! Mwah~!” Kiss after kiss after kiss, the Countess exaggeratedly and dramatically assails her faithful maid, coating the incredibly flushed girl’s increasingly red face with dozens kiss marks. “Mwaaah~!”

“M-m-my Lady~!” Vera stammers out, bringing her hands up in an attempt to shield herself and hide her ever-growing embarrassment. The white silken fabric of her gloves is soon stained black by the noblewoman’s clearly magical lipstick.

“Vera, my dear~! You are so, so adorable~!” Rina coos, pulling the flustered maid into a tight hug. “And you, Krvavy~!” Her quivering thighs spread wide, freeing the Drakling from a wonderful prison.

Krvavy’s long tongue slowly slips out of the Countess’ sweet slit, drawing more moans from the beautiful woman’s parted lips.

“You~...” A husky tone underlines the half-Elf’s whispered words as she gently guides Krvavy upwards. “I am beyond tempted to keep you for myself, Krvavy~... There is something about you that I find so... so very arousing~... Your presence sets my nerves aflame~...” Her amethyst eyes twinkle with lust and need as she pulls the barbarian’s head in towards her bare breasts. “Yes~...!”

Krvavy’s carnivorous teeth gently press into the yielding expanse of Rina’s tit. A plump nipple, hot pink and vibrant, fills her mouth. Her tongue rolls and grinds against that puffy little mound.

Not to be outdone, Vera lowers herself down and claims the Countess’ other tit. Her glasses sit askew on her face as she shifts back and forth between glaring hatefully at her competitor and lovingly looking up at her Lady. A deep red blush fills the bratty albino’s thoroughly kissed cheeks.

“Haahhh~... Hahahaah~...!” The Countess moans and laughs as she gazes down at that sight, her hands resting atop the heads of both her maid and bodyguard. “My, if an outsider were to see me now, they – haah~! – would surely think that there is a certain skin tone that I prefer~! Perhaps they would be correct~? Such pale, snowy skin~...” Her thumbs trail over both Krvavy and Vera’s cheeks. “Mhhnhh~... Truly beautiful~...”

The Drakling grins around Rina’s wonderfully plump nipple, glancing sideways with more than a small amount of smugness filling her face.

Vera’s pale pink eyes narrow into slits. She does not, for even a moment, stop or slow her soft suckling. Her gloved hands gently grasp at the Countess’ body, gliding over vibrant pink skin in a purposeful massage. A tinge of arrogance and superiority enters her expression as Rina’s lewd gasps grow ever so slightly louder under her care.

“Yes~...! Just like tha–”

Bump...! Bump...

“–t. Tsk.” Rina clicks her tongue and sighs out in disappointment. As if a switch had been flipped, her arousal disappears in an instant. Without a word, she presses her palms into the foreheads of the two pale women suckling at her tits, pushing them back. Two wet pops echo out as her glistening nipples are reluctantly released.

Indignation and rage burns within Vera’s gaze as she sees the faint bite marks adorning the areola that Krvavy had claimed.

The Countess sighs again, aimlessly waving a hand through the air. A soft, tingling light spreads across the bodies of all three occupants of the carriage. “Apologies, Krvavy. I thought that we had more time available. We must have picked up the pace to make up for that... delay... yesterday.” She deliberately glances downwards, attention lingering on the Drakling’s hard and throbbing dick. “Are you alright to remain pent up for the next few hours, or would you prefer to get yourself off with our toy?”

The barbarian bites her bottom lip and closes her eyes. She slowly breathes in and then out again. “Yeah, I can last until tonight. Just... give me a few minutes to calm down.”

“You will be appropriately rewarded for your patience.” A very faint note of playfulness tinges the Countess’ words as she stands, completely unashamed and casual despite her utter nudity. “Vera, dear, I will need your assistance.”

The albino maid rises to her feet and straightens her dress out, trying to act casual and composed. She pauses briefly, her pale lips twitching and threatening to twist into a frown as she sees that her gloves are clean and free of her Lady’s kisses.

Rina pauses partway through the sliding door. “Welcome to Vratsa. Thank you for accompanying me here, Krvavy.”

“Atten-tion!”

A few dozen armoured boots stomp onto the ground.

The Countess emerges from her carriage, pausing in the open doorway. She is the personification of gothic beauty. A layered dress of black and deep purple covers nearly her entire body, extending out further from her already wide hips. A black veil rests atop her head, obscuring the noblewoman’s expression and Elvish ears as it hides all above her painted lips.

Her vibrant skin, a rich and bright shade of pink, stands out amongst her dark clothing, drawing attention towards her center. Towards her cleavage. Towards the three beauty marks that rest at the base of her breasts, and towards the large amethyst necklace that sits comfortably beneath her collarbone.

That sheer display of beauty and elegance nearly distracts Krvavy from her task. The Drakling holds out her right hand, bare palm raised to the dim sky. Rina’s delicate fingers, clad in the silken fabric of an ornate lace glove, gracefully press down into that offered hand. With a gentle but firm grip, Krvavy helps the Countess descend down the wooden steps, only letting go once both of the noblewoman’s heels have clicked onto the paved stone ground.

Thin silver chains and strings of onyx beads jingle faintly as the Countess dips down faintly, giving the slightest curtsy. “You came to greet me in person? I am honoured.” The tone of her voice implies that she is anything but.

Ahead, flanked by knights with swords longer than they are tall and wide-brimmed hats in place of helmets, stands a portly man. Atop his own head sits an ever larger hat, trimmed with spotted white fur and topped by a cluster of golden feathers. His rounded body is squeezed into an ornate tunic of woven gold threads and burdened by an oversized jacket that more than doubles the width of his already quite broad shoulders. Gaudy strings of pearls and gold decorate his bulky form. The front of his overly adorned tunic is parted by a large and unfortunately eye-catching codpiece.

“Of course,” the man’s voice is deep and phlegmy. His thin lips part in an unpleasant and lecherous smile, yellowed teeth gleaming beneath a greasy dark moustache as beady eyes blatantly stare further down than is proper. “It would be an insult to your granduncle’s memory were I to not welcome you to my Vratsa. Few served my father as well as he, Lady Marzannavich.”

“Yes, he was a good man and a great ruler, as I have heard. It is a shame for your lands to lack even one subject as talented as he.”

The corpulent man’s expression darkens as he lifts his gaze back up to roughly where Rina’s eyes would be behind her veil. “That you are dressed for mourning may give your betters and peers the wrong impression of life in Raseyne.” His voice is cold and steady, the tone not unlike that of a parent or adult speaking to a child they utterly detest. A tone that Krvavy was once quite familiar with.

“How so? I dress not this way while at home, only when away: I mourn being so far from my people, as a good ruler should. And to be dressed this way is more than appropriate. As you are well aware, we are here to discuss matters of state. Serious and somber garb is an appropriate fit for the topics in which we will speak.” The Countess calmly states, gently shaking her head. “Enough of these pleasantries, Duke Zlatan. We can and will talk more as the Council is held. I thank you for coming to greet me and mine in person, and return the favour by informing you of a potential danger to your people that we chanced upon yesterday, just before noonday.”

The greasy Duke’s beady eyes narrow. “Vratsa and the lands around it are far safer and far more secure than the marches you call home. So, pray tell, what fanciful story have you to say?”

“We encountered a deer sick with an unknown and worrying ailment standing in the midst of the road. Black puss oozed from wounds across its body, seeping into the ground beneath its feet. The poor, afflicted creature was swiftly freed from its misery, reduced to naught but cinders by Dragonflame,” the Countess’ gloved hands subtly gesture towards the Drakling by her side. “You and I may not always see eye to eye, but I do not wish for such a curse to plague the common folk beneath us.”

It is almost imperceptible, but the Duke’s expression shifts ever so slightly as Rina speaks. His corpulent face pales by a mere shade. The faintest hint of fear can be seen in his beady eyes. But the mention of that tainted deer being cremated seems to steady his nerves, returning his expression to its prior unpleasant arrogance. “No such sickness exists in my lands. And the spreading of rumours meant to panic my people will not be tolerated. Have a pleasant stay in my city.”

“Make way!” One of the Duke’s knights unnecessarily shouts out. None of the Countess’ men are in the way of that gaudily dressed noble, letting him freely turn and walk over to a small but incredibly overdecorated carriage.

“May the moons watch over you.” The corpulent man coldly calls out as he climbs into his ride. “Or whatever it is that your kind believes...” His already far from cordial voice shifts into a grumble as he spits out those last words.

Hooves click and clack over paved stone as the Duke and his men depart.

Krvavy blinks and finally takes a look around. They appear to be at the end of a street, where it has rounded out into a large plaza centered around a towering fountain. Tall brick walls of various different styles and colours surround nearly the entire area, obscuring all but the roofs of the buildings hidden away behind them.

“Have the gates opened and bring the carriages around.” Rina casually orders, seemingly unbothered by that whole interaction. “I will walk the rest of the way myself. It is not far.”

With that the numerous knights spring into action, not in haste but with purpose. They spread throughout the plaza, ensuring the safety of their Countess and the convoy of carriages alike.

The Drakling glances back at the carriage she and the Countess came out of. Its door is closed and the steps retracted. She frowns faintly. After a whole week of having very little privacy, it feels odd to not have Vera skulking around in the background glaring at her. Though it is pretty fitting for that bitchy maid to have chosen to stay with the rest of her Lady’s belongings...

“What are your first impressions of Duke Veselin Zlatan?” Rina curiously asks, her heels softly tapping over the paving stones as she walks off, expecting the Drakling to follow.

Which is, of course, exactly what happens.

“Well...” Krvavy easily keeps pace with the gothic noblewoman, even as she gnaws on the inside of her cheek and slows down a little, taking a moment to put her thoughts in order. “He... seems like a bit of a sleazebag. Gross, greasy, and arrogant.” That he definitely knew more about the deer and its sickness goes unspoken.

The pink-skinned half-Elf nods. “I would say that you are a good judge of character,” a faintly teasing tone underlines her otherwise professional tone. “But Veselin does not hide who he is very well at all. He is all that he appears to be, and more. That he is jealous of the wealth of myself and my lands does not help either.”

“Was Raseyne considered ‘his’, or at least his fathers, at some point in the past?” The barbarian pauses briefly, watching a large gate of dark wood and even darker iron slowly open further ahead. “Or was he just being a dick?”

“More the second than the first.” The slightest of smiles plays at Rina’s painted lips as she spares her bodyguard a brief glance. “Raseyne is the heart of a County, while Vratsa sits within a Dukedom. That technically puts Duke Zlatan above me in rank, though in truth we are both independent rulers who answer to no one but ourselves, despite what the old titles that we use may imply. As for the past...”

Krvavy’s head slowly swivels side to side, taking in the sight of the estate that they’ll be staying at for the next couple days as she listens to the Countess talk.

“Our two lands used to be tied together quite closely, as allies,” the noblewoman emphasizes that word, following it with a soft sigh. “But I would not say that my great-granduncle was ever a subject of Veselin’s father. Or even his grandfather. They had the occasional conflict, primarily over how their shared border was drawn, and those would not have happened had one been above the other. Not quite as they did, at least.”

This place... isn’t as fancy or as beautiful as the Countess’ estate back in Raseyne. It is honestly a lot more homely. In a literal sense as well as figurative. Rather than a large castle turned chateau, the building up ahead is an old, mostly wooden, manor house. Plenty of gardens surround it, but many of them are more practical than decorative: there are quite a few plots growing what appear to be vegetables. It is definitely a step above the other buildings that Krvavy saw as they drove through the city, but that isn’t exactly saying much.

“I take it that Vratsa isn’t as wealthy as its Duke would like?” The barbarian idly assumes, shifting her axe from one shoulder to the other. “I wasn’t looking out the window the entire time, but this place seems a lot older and... I don’t want to say run down... than Raseyne.”

“To be charitable, the civil war that followed my great-granduncle’s **** lead to large swathes of Raseyne being damaged or outright destroyed, so most of the city is indeed newer. That said... Your assumption would be correct. Vratsa is a city in decline. And, to some degree, that is my fault.”

Krvavy tilts her head slightly to the side. “How so?”

“Simply put, I am far less restrictive of a ruler than the Duke.” Rina plainly replies, pausing briefly to give one of her servants an appreciative nod as the door to her manor house is held open.

A silver chandelier hangs in the center of this beautiful entrance hall, glittering in the light it is emitting. Ornate carpets lay across the hardwood floor, the subtle geometric patterns depicted on them matching those painted on the upper half of the walls, while the lower halves are covered with polished wood panelling a few shades darker than the floor. Overall, it has a similar vibe to the Countess’ main estate, just far more rustic. And wooden.

“I opened trade with the Orcs and the Risafaedr, creating entire markets that merchants flocked to benefit from. I treat the Halflings who live within my lands fairly, providing protection in exchange for a small tithe of their produce, rather than **** and take advantage of them as is far too common here and further to the west. And, perhaps the final nail in the coffin that is Vratsa, I brought stability back to Raseyne, so those who fled here in the generation past returned to what was once their home. I never aimed to prosper off of the decline and stagnation of Veselin’s lands, but the end result was the same regardless of my intent.”

“Yeah, I can see why that Duke might be a bit bitter then...” Krvavy idly comments, continuing to curiously take in her surroundings. This building doesn’t seem to have any actual hallways. Just rooms that lead to more rooms. Like some sort of maze...

“Oh, ‘bitter’ hardly describes the depths of his feelings for me.” A slight smile is audible in Rina’s tone as she opens what at first appeared to be nothing more than a closet door, but which reveals a spiral staircase. “That old lech utterly detests me, and of course the feeling is mutual. That he repeatedly demands for my hand in marriage and that I repeatedly deny him only makes us despise each other even more.”

“Wait... He wants to marry you?”

The Countess pauses partway up the staircase, glancing back over her shoulder. Her black painted lips, the only part of her face truly visible beneath the lacy veil resting atop her head, curl into a playfully teasing smile. “Why of course. I am quite the desirable woman, would you not say~?”

Krvavy’s cheeks flush a deep red. “That’s... I –”

“I know what you meant, dear~.” Rina’s musical voice dances through the air, amusement dripping from her every word. She softly shakes her head and ascends out of the stairwell. “Veselin no doubt covets me for my looks and my beauty,” the pink-skinned half-Elf continues, her tone far more serious. “But that is not the main reason. No, more than my body, he wants my lands and my city. Hence why, in recent years, he has more frequently demanded that I marry his son rather than himself. Not that such an offer is any more appealing to me.”

“Like father like son, huh?” Krvavy comments, trying to act casual as she slowly recovers from this alluring noblewoman’s sudden teasing. The topic at hand actually makes that harder. Thinking about Rina and marriage makes Krvavy realize just how much the Countess’ current outfit looks like a wedding dress. Albeit a completely black one... and one that also gives a great view of her eye-catching cleavage... So maybe more like a sexy goth wedding dress...

“To some degree.” Rina plainly returns, stepping through one last door and into a dead-end room. A small private library judging by the bookshelves lining the walls. Though the large desk sitting in its center means it could also be a study... “The Duke’s son is not as lecherous, or is at least far more subtle, and not as greasy in appearance or demeanour. Yet I find him more insufferable. He acts like an arrogant and spoiled child, despite not having been one for over a decade.”

“I feel like that is common for nobles. At least the ones that grew up with the whole silver spoon and whatnot.” Krvavy shrugs out, stepping towards the only window in the room and leaning down to look through it. Or at least to try to look through it. The glass is kind of foggy and diffused, almost like stained glass but still white, so it is hard to see what’s out there. Some trees and –

“Need I remind you that I too am a noble~?” Rina warmly teases, causing her bodyguard to freeze while staring out the window. “And though I was born in exile, my father made a decent fortune as a merchant, so I too grew up with wealth~.” The sound of a chair being pulled back, followed by the rustling of fabric, briefly interrupts her words. “As well as silverware~. A modest set, but it was still silverware~.”

Krvavy closes her eyes and very slowly sighs out. She is very tempted to thump her forehead into the window, but that probably isn’t the best idea. What with her horns being so tough and all.

“Now, now~. No need to be embarrassed over putting your own foot in your mouth~.” The Countess’ cooing voice lowers in volume and tone, growing almost seductive. “Your social clumsiness and occasional bluntness is part of your charm, Krvavy~. One of the reasons why I am growing so fond of you~. It is... refreshing~. But... if you are worried about saying the wrong thing, then how about we find something else to occupy that mouth of yours~?”

A shiver runs down the Drakling’s spine as she slowly turns around, anticipation building in her heart.

The first thing that Krvavy sees is the Countess’ beautiful dress, with all of its layers and frills and lace, slumped over the back of an armchair. The second thing she sees is the Countess herself.

“Well~?” Rina expectantly asks, painted lips curled into an alluring smile as she sits behind her large desk in nothing but some lingerie. “Do you not want to resume where we left off earlier, before our arrival to this city interrupted our fun~? Of course, this time you will not be so neglected~.” A familiar golden band with four white gems inlaid onto it dangles from her gloved fingers, hanging above a stack of paperwork. “I see the answer in your eyes~. Go on now, place your axe aside and take off that loincloth of yours~.”

Krvavy does not need to be asked twice. She very quickly snaps out of her daze, taking just a moment to make sure her Soulbound weapon isn’t going to suddenly fall over as she leans it against the wall. Without wasting any more time, Krvavy begins hastily pulling at her loincloth. She struggles slightly with the straps that help hold the armour on her tail in place, but that only wastes a couple seconds at most.

“Come hither, oh Krvavy~...” The magical pseudo-pussy glows and takes shape, balancing in the palm of Rina’s outstretched hand. “Worry not, none but my Vera will dare to interrupt us for the rest of the eve~. I am, after all, expected to deal with all this deskwork and to pen many, many letters~. Let us see just how well you and your wonderful tongue can distract me, yes~?”

The Drakling’s dick throbs and steadily grows to its full length. She tries not to look too excited as she takes that lewd toy from the Countess. “Haahhn~...” A blissful sigh of relief escapes past her parted lips as the tight magical construct slowly engulfs her girthy shaft.

Rina’s amethyst eyes gleam with arousal as her barbaric bodyguard kneels down before her. With grace and elegance, and a not insignificant amount of impatient anticipation, she plucks the mask-like helmet from Krvavy’s head and drops it onto her desk. “There should be plenty of space down there, even for one as large as you~.” Her delicate hand gently guides the Draconic dickgirl down beneath her desk by the horn. “And... I do hope you don’t find this demeaning.”

Krvavy blinks, slightly surprised by the sudden lack of lust in the Countess’ voice. “I... I’d definitely enjoy it more if our roles were reversed here, but... I don’t really mind this either. You have work to do, and I’d be lying if I said that you weren’t abso-fucking-lutely delicious~...!”

The half Moon Elf’s pink cheeks grow a little more vibrant. “Splendid~...!” She excitedly breathes out, gently trailing a gloved finger down from Drakling’s horn to a pale cheek. “Now let us both get to work~.”