Pink and Silver (Closed, Mature)

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Extreme mature content. Please do not need to read. Sexual content begins at post 12.

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Tular was - closer to my homeland than I had been in several months. I - wasn't here for that though. I had been asked to help take down a small selection of wild beasts that had been threatening several villages on the peninsula. So I was patrolling the region, taking an opportunity to stretch out and get a bit of hunting done.

I shifted my coat, resettling it on my shoulders as I narrowed my eyes at the ground. Twenty minutes ago, I had spotted the first signs of trouble. Brush was broken, heavily - like multiple forms had charged through, quite rapidly. I had begun stalking along this trail, picking up pace when I noticed droplets of blood. And now -

Now I was staring at the clear marks of a pack of wolves. And at least one of them had clawed something. Damn, this looked like the claw marks of a dire wolf - so whatever they were chasing was in danger. And this must be the one on my list - a dire wolf that had recently brought a pack into the nearby area. I growled and picked up my pace - I saw some hoof prints, so it might be a rider or a wild horse. Hopefully it was the latter, and some poor person wasn't being chased by a pack of hungry wolves.

As I ran along, feet skimming the ground, I drew out iron spikes from my vest. If, by luck, I managed to get there before whatever they were chasing fell, then using the throwing spikes might be able to buy them some time. I heard loud snarling, snapping - and frantic whinnying. A horse - but a mount, or wild? I broke through the trees - and froze.

Neither.

The animal, swirling, spinning and lashing out, forcing the wolves back, bleeding down one flank, was a brilliant white - with very faint tinges of a pinkish grey at the base of the coat. The hooves, covered in thick tufts of fur, were a faint grey, tinged with pink. Wild, unkempt mane and tail flew free as the animal kept the would-be predators at bay. But what froze me, why arrested me in my track - was the spiraling horn, white, tinged with traces of pink. From its neck hung a coil of rope, tied around like a noose.

The wolves, led by the dire wolf, had found a damn unicorn. And were harrying the equine animal - it was putting up a valiant effort, but in time they would wear it down and kill it. It was trapped, and from flashes of panic in its pink eyes, it knew it. I - well. I could not let that happen.

So I changed the game. One of the wolves lunged forward, its muzzle snapping for the unicorn’s rear flank - and it let out a pained yelp as iron buried itself into the snarling mouth. It spun, knocking over one of its companions, trying to find where the attack had come from. Behind my mask, I let out a matching snarl as several of the wolves, including the dire beast, turned to face me.

That was fine. I could handle wolves. I swept the Saw-Spear from its holster, and rushed forward. I would take out the dire wolf first, it was easily the most dangerous of this pack. But - as I got close, I stumbled. A dizzying, giddy feeling washed over me, and it broke my attention for crucial seconds. The dire wolf lunged at me, and it leapt up. Its fangs buried into the flesh of my shoulder, and I let out a pained grunt as I felt the venom seep into me.

I swept the blade up, fighting through the pain, and carved open the stomach and rib cage. Damascus metal and enhanced muscles forced their way through flesh and bone, and it dropped, howling. My left arm hung limp at my side as my healing tried to fight the venom. I clicked the blade out to fill extension and swept it around, burying it into one of the normal wolves as it tried to leap for me.

I could feel magic working - the enchantment upon the Saw-Spear ripping life force and feeding it into me. It helped - but it wasn't enough. I spun my weapon in a circle, and roared out a challenge to the wolves. Let them come - my blade would drink of their life.

A rich heart, strong and heavy beat in her chest. Wildly she spun her head to stare with her left eye at the man who had run in. A spear struck right through the throat of one of the wild wolves, spilling blood onto her flank. Fine crimson smashed onto snow white hide. It now mirrored the other thigh, where a previous claw had severely ripped open a gash.

Eyes staring at the man she snorted madly, counting quickly the amount of wolves again. There had been six at the beginning, then one she had managed to kick it's jaw in, so that was down some distance back. Their race had continued and gone for many miles as she had tried to throw them off in the deeper woods, but it and ended up with her caught here caught in the woods as she had veered into an unknown clearing. Enough room for the five remaining wolves. Now there were … two. Severely cut down when this hunter had come.

But he - a shadow had run in. And downed one, then another. This latest had been utterly slaughtered, which allowed the unicorn to feel a chance of … well, hope. So long had been this chase, so fierce and brawling. Once back in the chase jaws had managed to settle around her throat from a surprise attack, but she had managed to swing it off and keep running. A line of blood ran from the various ripped puncture marks, but were hidden by her manic mane. She shrieked and felt a wave of new energy and reared up to pound the closest beast with her forepaws. Her eyes remained full of fear but she was now feeling more alive, covered in blood but with survival suddenly possible.

The last wolf snarled and rushed for the man - who dropped low, one arm hitting the ground limply as his shining blade swept up. The edge hit the wolf and bit in deep, arresting its momentum, and as she watched, the man twisted and slammed downwards, driving the wolf into the ground. With a sickening, crunching thud it just broke, bones snapping as he tore his blade free. Slowly, he stood up, and silver eyes swept across the clearing they were in before his blade folded in half and he tucked it away.

Huge pink eyes spun, taking in the general area, counting the bodies. One, two, three … many. She blinked, through the fear still pounded through her veins. The thought struck her then that she had just been rescued by a very skilled killer. Far more than she had been able to get. In a matter of minutes she had reduced her enemies from five to one.

He had done that. But why?

A horrible thought struck her and she spun to face him. Still adrenaline ran through her and it could last, she thought, against a last fight before she bled out. She was already backed up against a fallen trunk and a hill, so she could go no further back but maybe - maybe she could go forwards. Huffing and taking in a breath she stared him down, the fear clear in her eyes as she prepared for another possible fight. She took in the great dark coat, the silver shining eyes and the huge weapon before she swung her head, eyes filled with utter terror, intention clear.

Ready to face him if this was it, if he had planned this all along. If he had killed the wolves … only to get to her.

Damn the bloody noose.

I tilted my head to the side as I let my cloak settle back down, the Saw-Spear spear tucked away. The Unicorn was staring at me, with wide, scared eyes, and it had backed itself up, waving its horn at me, warding me away. I slowly held up my hands go show that they were empty. “Peace, peace fair one.” I spoke calmly, soothingly. “I have no interest in you, not in hurting you. These things were my prey.” Fuck, I had no idea how intelligent unicorns were. My focus in my studies had been on the animals that could become beasts - and unicorns were, themselves rarely in that category. If they became beasts, they lost many of their powers and became entirely new and terrifying creatures.

I slowly, slowly approached, watching to see the equine’s reaction. I wanted to get that damn noose off of it - such animals were meant to be wild and free, not trapped like some show horse. The huge pink eyes blinked, and the creature snorted as it nervously paced, hooves anxiously moving. Eyes focused on me hard, untrusting. “Easy, easy fair one. Come now, let me get that off of you?” I gestured with one hand to the rope around its neck. “It is not right that one such as you is a captive.” I had paused. I hoped the unicorn understood enough to catch at least the smooth, calming tone.

The unicorn stopped prancing as I finished speaking. Pink eyes blinked once, then stared at me, a sudden deep intelligence within them. The gaze was held for a long moment, in which neither of us moved - and then it seemed to accept. Cautiously, so cautiously it tilted its head to the side, exposing where the rope was half hidden under the mane.

Slowly, holding one hand out and away where those pink eyes could see it, I began to loosen the knot of the noose. It took some doing, and I finally had to use both hands to pull it free and off of her. I quickly stepped back and tossed it to the side as the unicorn shook its majestic head once, then twice, testing its newfound freedom. Then it snorted and waved its horn at me, forcing me back a bit further - then there was a sudden breath of wind that appeared from nowhere.

It was soft, but it had effect. It swirled between myself and the unicorn. From there it seemed to dance around her hooves. Her eyes slid closed, and a loud moan came from her, almost pleasing, before she threw her head up. The wind seemed to pick up, swirling faster and faster, but centered on her and as it did it played wildly with her man's and tail. But in the vortex she remained, a shiver running down her spine. She seemed to breath, mane sweeping up with one swell before it was between him and her. Then, it began to settle and as it did the unicorn began to change. Her fur shrank back, she shrank back in size, falling seemingly down onto her rear end …

The wind subsided. And in its place was the crouched, deeply breathing form of a small naked woman. She had long white hair that dressed her form a little, exceptionally pale skin and pink eyes. A deep wound was on her right thigh and a series of small bite marks on her collarbone. But it was not these she paid attention to. Instead she was staring with wide, vivid eyes right at me.

Lips trembled, then she spoke in a small voice.

“Thank you.” I blinked. Repeatedly. That was - decidedly not something I could have possibly expected. She was staring at me, and I felt like she was examining me. And she was naked. Very, naked. I unclasped my coat and tugged from my shoulders, and slung it around hers, closing the top few buttons before stepping back.

“I. Ah. Hello.” How the hell did you respond to a unicorn suddenly becoming a naked, attractive woman? Bleeding, no less? Fuck, no. Do not think about her blood, oozing down her side.

“I. You're welcome.”

A little she smiled at me before bringing the cloak in tighter about her. “You got any food?” she asked. “I really need meat.” I blinked, then slowly looked at the cooling bodies around us.

“Well - turnabout is fair play?” I raised an eyebrow, trying to distract myself. She stared.

“Anything but grass.” Aaaaaalright. I turned away from the staring woman, and began carving up the wolves, cutting chunks of meat from them. I tossed the ‘steaks’ into a pile. As I worked I looked over my shoulder - to see her still staring at me. It was - unusual.
“Can you gather some wood for a fire?”

The fixed glare became a gaze. It held for a moment, before she paused before grunting and nodding. One hand held the cloak together as she staggered to her feet - then let out a cry and crashed against a tree. Shit - I leapt to my feet and dashed to catch her before she fell go the ground.

“Alright. Just - sit down for now, alright fair one? I'll get some wood to cook the meat.” I set her down, carefully, then turned and began to work on gathering up the wood, branches, and small leaves to serve as kindling.

Damn. Damn. It bloody hurt.

My eyes stared at the man - apparently my rescuer rather than my other form’s - aka the unicorn’s - hunter, as he awkwardly tried to prepare a meal as he came to accept that I had just become a woman rather than a horse with a horn. It was not every day it happened, as I understood it, but neither was it that wolves attacked and chased me for a solid two miles, and just after I had escaped from the lodge at Chotoi.

I eyed him, and quickly surmised I could trust him. After all he had just clothed me, which had been generous. Well a cloak that was sort of a clothing. It was all I currently had and so I loved it.

Peeling back the side of the cloak I sought and found the bastard wound that had affected my attempt to stand. With my unicorn form in general more hardy than my natural humanoid one, I had been able to stomach the wound for so long until now. Now, the adrenaline was gone and I was more of a weaker person. Thus I took the pain and effects of the three inch gash full blown. Blood oozed from it but it was not as deep as I had first feared, only down to the first layer of proper flesh.

My eyes drew back to the warrior, the hunter. I watched him quickly try to gather things for a fire, and had not made to attack me again. It took a moment but I decided he was my current best choice of survival here and right now. Thus, I tilted onto my knees and began to shuffle along to gather wood from the ground. It was then I remembered the bites at my throat as the blood fell between me and the ground. Clutching a hand there and careful to not have the cloak expose me I began to make my living.

He turned around at the soft sound, and his eyes went wide. “Fair on- oh by the moon your neck.” He dropped everything he had gathered and rushed to me, gently pushing me back to my ass on the ground. He still didn't seem to have any malicious intent - instead his hands fumbled at the pouches on his waist, and he drew out bandages and a pale blue salve in a glass jar. The hunter cleared his throat. “I'm - to bandage the wounds, and they need to be. I will have to touch your neck.” His voice was soft, cautious.

I flinched at the last few words. Immediately, remembering that the rope still lay somewhere nearby, I drew back, a fear coming to my face. My hand remained where the bite marks were. But … well this was the man who had just removed the same rope from my unicorn, releasing me out. My breath went erratic before I took the brave decision and lowered my hands.

“Be quick,” I said fast. Only lovers and haters ever touched me there normally. He nodded - then his fingers danced almost impossibly fast as he unfurled the bandages, and set them down across my legs. Then he opened the jar, and scooped some of the paste inside out onto two fingers.

“This is meant to help the healing process, to rejuvenate the cells in the body and speed along natural growth. I say meant, because I have never had to use it on myself. I have an advanced healing factor that normally takes care of light wounds.” The apparently unimportant words, said in a rush - distracted me from the fact that he had already spread the salve across the bites on my neck. Hie eyes tilted - in a smile but I couldn't see his mouth or lower face behind the mask he wore. I could feel a tingling at the edges of the wounds - then he had lifted up the bandage, and smoothly wrapped it around my neck, sealing the salve against me and keeping the wounds ‘clean’.

When he finished he straightened up and stepped away, holding his hands up and out, showing that all he had was the jar of blue salve in one hand. “Done, fair one. Are there any others you need treated?”

I blinked for a moment rather liking this term ‘fair one’ as I guessed I was pretty fair skinned. Especially for him - I could see the nearly black skin on his hand. I paused before nodding and sticking out my thigh. “Big scratch, back a bit in the woods,” I said as I pulled back the cloak, careful to keep my holes covered up. I used my other hand to check on the work already done. He seemed to hesitate a moment, then nodded.

“Alright.” He pulled out another roll of bandaged and stepped closer, kneeling to examine the wound. I heard him draw in a sharp breath. “Fuck, fair one. This is nasty. Do you have - enhanced healing?” His silver eyes slid up to meet my gaze.

My eyes narrowed. “It's fine. It will be fine. I don't have my healing back yet, no. But if I die … well. That might be the fastest way actually,” the thought struck me as I tilted my head.

“Fucking.” He set the bandages and jar down, then stood up straight and removed his hat from his head. “Your body resets when you die then.” He didn't seem surprised by the concept, as most would have been. “Right. Well. Without some kind of enhanced healing, this will need stitches. Sutures.” He pointed at the cut on my side.

Frowning down at my thigh I signed, thinking about how much I honestly just wanted some meat. “I don't have anything at all,” I shrugged. “Lost my stuff back a week or something ago when I was chased by those bastards at,” I waved my hand in some random direction, knowing it would be not too far from here anyway. “People think they want a blooming unicorn in their stables.” I paused and looked up at him, who seemed to be taking my state and double identity very well. “If you've got a needle you can use my hair as thread?”

I blinked. Stared. Blinked and rubbed my eyes, then looked at her again. She was completely serious. I cleared my throat. “Fair one, would - would your hair even be sanitary to use in the wound?” I don't think so. Hair could, theoretically be used - but in general it wasn't strong enough. I doubted hers was strong enough but then again it might be. But even beyond that - I did not want to risk sewing up her wound with a non-sterile thread. If we got back to town or hell, even to my camp, then I could boil and sterilize some of the thread that I had.

She looked with large eyes for a moment before dropping her head. “I've been a unicorn for a week … so I guess not.” She let out a huff and looked back at the ruined thigh. Blood still oozed, but it had apparently slowed, and she seemed to be sucking in gulps of air to stay awake.

“Alright. Fair one. I have a camp not far from here. Do you - need me to carry you there?” I did not know how she would take the offer. I slowly returned my tools to my bag and began gathering up the meat and wood, moving them into a bundle. I frowned, turned away from her. Normally I would carry this all, if I needed to, in my coat, but the fair one needed that. So - I shrugged off my shirt and began piling things on top of it.

There was a large splintering crack. I turned to see the fair one grabbing a branch and ripping it from a tree to use as a crutch. She unsteadily hoisted herself to her feet. Well - I suppose it could work. We would make an interesting sight if someone saw us - a half-naked drow with his shirt dripping blood slung on his back like a bag, and the hobbling, clearly injured and naked save for an overly long coat, woman.

I held out one arm for her to brace herself on, and she took a moment before tentatively taking it. I gave her a slight nod, and then began guiding us back towards my camp.

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It took about thirty minutes of walking at the best pace the woman on my arm could manage. Not that I particularly blamed her - but walking for half an hour with the oozing sack of meat on my back was, in a word, uncomfortable. But we finally turned past the trees that sheltered my tucked away camp from sight. The tent to one side, with the log that I had pulled up to serve as a seat to the other. Between them was the ring of stones that still held embers from the last fire.

I gently guided her to sit on the log, then dropped the tied up shirt near the banked fire, then went to search my small tent. I knew I had - there. I pulled out a small copper pot, beaten and battered, with clear dents in it. I - should probably get a replacement at some point. I looked over to the fair one.

“I will be back shortly, I need to get some water to boil and some wood for the fire.” I spoke softly, then turned and started to head towards where I knew a small stream was flowing somewhat nearby. I paused though, in case she needed something before I left. Nothing came, and she remained silent - so I left, heading for the stream.

Cold, clear water filled the copper pot. I balanced it on one hand and began scooping up some wood. I tucked them under my arm and grabbed some more, carrying the wood and pot back to the camp.

The fair one was perched still on the log, cloak around her and feet tucked under. She glanced at me as I came in with wide eyes. “It should take only a little bit once I've gotten the fire going.” I set the pot of water down near her, letting her examine it if she wanted to. While she did that, I worked on the fire, gathering up a bit more wood from near the camp to build it up to a decently sized blaze.

As the fire was roaring to life, I untied my shirt and took some of the meat out. I took sharp sticks and skewered the chunks, and then set them near the fire. As the meat began to cook I went to my tent and found the spit, and set it up then carefully set the pot of water over it. It was - hot. Because I had done this frazzled and not thinking, or I would have set up the spit and pot before the fire. Still, some mild burns to my forearms and hands would fade in time. I stepped back, then sat down near the fire, to turn the meat as it roasted.

I remained silent as the hunter came and went, then set up the food before me. It took time, and he seemed to have forgotten about my wound that he could wanted to stitch up, but I did not moan. It had happened long enough in the past that, with me surreptitiously stealing some of the salve from under the bandage at my neck and shoving it on it. Then I pinched it closed with fingers, breathing in long and deep to try to stay aware.

Blood unfortunately was vital for both unicorn and half god forms. Therefore any of its loss was a problem. With that thought I muttered under my breath, and looked around - to see the hunter staring at me steadily with those silver eyes.

“You - fair one. The water is so I can tend to your injury without making things worse.”

I blinked with large eyes. So he hadn't forgotten. Hugging a little I lowered my head onto my knees. “I see,” I replied. Then I paused, knowing that those silver eyes likely meant some form of magic thrummed in him. I knew that much at least despite most of my life having been underground.

“You can call me Vixen,” I said, finally deciding to give him my name. “Or … Horny.” It had been a nickname someone had given me ironically over a thousand years ago when I had told them of my unicorn form. They had then attached it to my lively desires and … well, it was just a name now.

The hunter blinked several times. He seemed to be doing that a lot, and it made me rather amused to see him so shocked by me.

“Ah… I’m going to assume that is not an offer, but a nickname. Ahem. I am called the -” He paused. Seemed to think. Then he closed his eyes. “My name is Fil'ayn. I prefer being called Hunter, or Huntsman.”

An offer? The thought hadn't passed my mind but it struck me that I hadn't had any sex since my escape from the catacombs back in Hernsford. Herik had been the slave's name, and I had misused his trust in order to get free. In the panic of escaping I had unfortunately needed to end Herik’s life … but then desperation had come to me after what I thought was nearing two thousand years in that light form of hell.

The hunter wasn't too ugly. Drow were not something I had much experience with, though they were the ones of the crew I had recently just got away from. They were the reason I was finally here, in a place called Tular according to the demon hermit Undun who had helped me greatly. I had been their captain's slave and killed him too.

But this one seemed to have no intention of slavery on me. I looked at him with an odd expression before shrugging, thinking it would not be an awful idea. He was shirtless as I could see, and the muscles spoke of a good body at least above waist.

“Some people use it. Call me Vixen then ...Hunter.” I respected him enough not to use his real name if Hunter was his preference. “I should probably heal up before I have any sex anyway.”

He tilted his head to the side, silver eyes staring at me. Then he turned his gaze to the pot, which had begun rolling in a boil while I was thinking. He opened a pouch on his waist, and took out a small needle and a long loop of thread. Holding the tail end of the thread between his fingers he dipped the needle and thread into the water.

“In, ah, that regard. The needle and thread should be sterile soon. And with the thread wet, as it dries it will pull the edges of the wound tighter together. As for sex - when you're stitched up and I put some more of the salve on your wound, you should be good to go with whoever as long as they take a little care.” He seemed to pause for a moment and shook his head, pressing his lips into a thin line as he thought. “Or if you don't mind pain and they don't. Anyway. How do you like your meat?”

My head tilted to the side. Pain? Well I been a concubine for the Sorcerers of Hern for over seven hundred years. I had experienced every sexual idea and trial it felt. Some had even ended my life. But then when your sexual partner was your master and he knew you could come back to life. I grunted with the memories I had simply accepted as my past and looked at the man.

“I like my meat rare,” I replied. “And my sexual partners any way they prefer.” I moved to shrug the cloak away from my leg, sticking it out for his reach. As an experiment I also let the fabric lie in such a way that he could have seen my underneath holes if he angled his head in just the right way … it would need to be very exact.

“Right then, yours should be done - now actually.” He pulled the thread and needle from the boiling water, and let it hang from his hand, cooling down. His other hand picked up one of the meat skewers, and he turned his head up towards meet my gaze as he handed it over to me. I had seen his eyes trail along the outstretched leg, and linger on the injury for a moment, then slide towards my nether regions before continuing up to focus on my face. It didn't seem he had angled himself.

Well he had noticed, which meant something. That was a nice feeling. But as soon as his eyes drifted away I put the cloak back again. Then I reached and grabbed the meat because that was my bigger desire right now. Food. Especially food that wasn't grass. My father above, I had needed to bite a handler last week in the Choibo stables just to get some blood needed for my sustenance. As I ate - the Hunter started working, his fingers pinching the edges of the wound shut and drawing the needle back and forth along the wound, literally looking like he was sewing the meat like a piece of cloth. He did not seem to mind my blood staining his fingers and hand in the least.

I began the annihilation of the wolf meat. It was breathtaking and wondrous, and warm, and I ate feverishly, letting the juices run down my chin. My eyes were not on the Hunter, but rather on the meat that was what I needed. After finishing one skewer I looked around for the next, letting the blood of my mortal half heritage guide me. I saw one over the other side of him, and I paused a moment but this was all worth it. My father, it was utterly amazing meat …

And it was there for my taking. So I dared and stretched across my healer, without much of a care for anything but the food. I found I needed to lean further than I originally thought but the taste was so good that … I bumped against his bare chest and I lost grip a little on my borrowed clothing, causing it to slip and a side of breast becoming exposed.

Quickly I grabbed the meat and retreated back, pulling the cloak closed and nibbling my lip with a little bit of embarrassment. “Sorry,” I mumbled as I dug in.

I couldn't help but stare at her for a moment. When she had bumped into me, I had caught sight of smooth white skin, taut and tight. And by gods it had been too damn long at this point. I had to close my eyes and swallow, hard, to help force the image out of my mind. Damnation I had seen it all before so why was it that now that she was swimming in my clothes that I was more aroused? Fucking hell, how long had it been? Weeks? Months? Not since - I shoved the thought from my mind.

No, no. This is a unicorn. One who - apparently had no compunction against sex. But I had rescued her from those wolves, and then whatever the hell was going on with that noose - she'd been a captive. She wasn't needing sex, she needed some care and some food.

“Don’t worry about it.” Damn it. I hope she didn't catch the sudden hoarseness to my voice. I looked down at her leg - and tied the knot at the end of the thread, finishing the field stitching. Fuck. Fuck it had been too long and her leg looked good bloody, the contrast between the white of her skin and the red of her blood was getting to me. I needed to move away from her. Now.

I started to stand up. She had finished the second chunk of meat and was now staring at the stick before her. Her lips were drawn in a thin line she seemed to be breathing heavily. I turned to the fire.

“I can roast more.” There was another skewer, but I had been letting it cook longer, so it wasn't rare like she seemed to like. And fuck. The blood and juices staining her lips was damn good and I - wanted to taste it. Fuck, no. That would not work out well at all. So I just started stabbing more meat and setting it to roast as I sat down - somewhat near her, but not next to her. Her blood on my hands was tantalizing. I reached out and took the chunk of meat that had been cooking longer, and slowly began to eat - surreptitiously getting her blood on the meat as I ate with my hands.

Her ears seemed to prick up as she gazed at the meat new on the fire. A lively hunger was there, and a small smile. “Meat is so much better than grass,” said she. “Or hay. But Unicorn can't each much of it.” She said Unicorn like it was a proper noun.

“Not exactly a normal unicorn, are you, Vixen?” I turned my head towards her slightly as I tore some of meat off of the chunk I was eating. Her blood was - almost sweet. Tangy, different. Fuck. I can't tell if this was a good or a bad thing. It was - fuck. I ate more of the meat tinted with her blood as I watched her.

Her head tilted to the side as she turned to look at me with a strange amusement there. “No, I'm not. Mainly because the form you're looking at right now is my main one. I turn into Unicorn,” she blinked. “I'm actually half god and half uniano … a creature not unlike a vampire. But Unicorn is a symbol of them … so in a way I am Unicorn in birth … I guess?”

My eyes widened slightly. “Like a - do you need to consume blood directly then? Would it be more effective to helping you heal?” It - would not be the first time a half-vampiric creature had drunk my blood.

Vixen smiled a little, and she drank in a large breath. She paused, blinking away and hard as if she was lost for a moment, then returned to me. “I don't think it would help the healing process. My powers have only just started to come back. I do need to consume blood to not die … but as I already told you I am immortal so it's … I'm not sure.” I hummed in thought. It was. Well. I'd had her blood - not that she seemed to realize it. I turned to look at the fire.

“Let me know if you wish to try.” I kept my voice calm. Alright. She didn't know if it would help so she probably wouldn't want to try. But - damn. Focus, focus. You aren't sexually driven so don't let the thought of the small woman in your coat, nursing on your blood turn you on. Damn it this was not helping. I reached out and snatched up one of the meat skewers and held it in her direction, not looking at her.

Hunter seemed incredibly preoccupied. There was something in him that was a little off, and I noticed it in the way his expressions said frustration and how he grabbed the skewer. Slowly I took it from him, still breathing long and hard to keep my awareness up, but I kept my eyes on him.

I paused and wondered if he could do with soothing. And it would maybe serve as a distraction as I made an excuse to sneak off and likely fall unconscious by myself. Years and decades of acting had kept me going thus far, so long of keeping up pretences if strength when your rapist was coming for you. “I only like you when you're strong,” was a favourite phrase if the Sorcerers of Hern, and so I could be just that.

I sucked in my breath and produced a weak projection, the best I could do in the circumstances. It came as an unseen wave that gave those around me a subtle sense of joy. Of course I could also use it in sexual activity, to increase pleasure in that field, but that … that was very much not on the cards for me right now.

Definitely maybe later with this one though. Very, very likely. I liked how he had concentrated on my vampiresque side and not the half god. Trying to help, not intrigued as to how he could use me. That was different. Nice and different. So I emitted the field and waited for his reaction, eyes intent as the meat lay still in my hand and shaking began in my legs. I prayed for it to work.

He blinked and his eyes glazed over a bit. He lifted one hand to his face, feeling his lips as they curled into a slight smile. Good - it was helping him. But then his face stilled and the smile faded. He drew a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“Alright - I - something is getting to me. You should get some rest, Vixen. Your body will need that to heal.” He still wasn't looking at me.

I narrowed my eyes for a moment, knowing then that he had resisted it. But then, my use of that particular power of mine - the only one I had been able to use these past three millennia as well as my passive immortality tendency - had been wavering in weakness for a long time. Sucking in my breath I avoided a sigh before I nodded at his words. Rest would be good, very good. The loss of blood was … yes. Rest. He had now suggested it so I could go for it.

So therefore I stood.

Which was a massive mistake. No sooner had I done so then the pain that had been lingering in the back of my mind swum up into my head. I felt a wave of nausea climb, as well as lightness. I let out a gasp as my legs gave way and I …

I crashed to the ground, where I sat, blinking heavily.

Fuck. Why was living so hard? Drowsily I slumped there as my body began the steady decline into unconsciousness.

“Oops. Sorry. Blood loss. Hmm … do me a favour and kill me?” I drawled, and with my back to him. “I should be fine then in … twelve hours. Hmm … then we can have all the lovely, lovely sexuals.”

With that, I slumped. And fainted.

I stared. What the shit. What in the actual shit. She - she had been acting. I should have seen it, I did it myself. Fuck. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. I wanted to help her. And she firmly believed that death would help her the best. I stood up, and picked her up cradling her unconscious form in my arms. I carried her into the tent then closed my eyes again.

Women really needed to stop asking me to kill them. At least Philomel hadn't done that. One out of four was a terrible track record though. Kara, the dhampir girl, had asked me to if she lost herself to her blood thirst. Scarlet not only wanted me to kill her if she was losing herself to the corruption - she had told me exactly what was needed to do it. Fuck, at least Vixen was sure she would come back. I kicked the bed roll open, then carefully, gently, laid her down in it. She didn't stir, not even a little. I took a deep breath, then let it out as I leaned down and -

gurk

Her head lolled to the side as I squeezed, my fingers choking her smoothly and swiftly. She had made a slight sound as I strangled her, and her boy thrashed as she tried to resist. But I bore down, and she passed without even waking up. I slowly stood up and stared down at my hands.

Disgusting.

Just - if she didn't come back I doubted I would let myself get near anyone. This - she was a unicorn. Or a unicorn sometimes. And I just choked her to death. I gently covered the body up and walked outside and sat down heavily by the fire, strength leaving my legs. Fuck.

She wasn't a hunt. She wasn't prey. She had asked for help. I had saved her - and now I had killed her. If she - if she was wrong. If I had just helped a unicorn woman suicide. I - fuck. Fuck. She had better come back. I don't think I could look Philomel in the eye if I had strangled a woman to death who had asked for my help.

I drew my knees up and stared at the fire.

Twelve hours later.

My immortality is dependent on time. Anything of a direct stab through the heart of less will result in me coming back roughly twelve to fifteen hours. The more minor killing wounds - such as strangulation that really leaves little to be physically needing healed - will allow me to return in the lesser. Anything above a stab to the heart will take longer, from decapitation at nineteen hours and full body disembowelment and separation of the arms, legs and extremities at twenty four. I can regrow limbs in death, dispel all poisons from it, and and heal every malady or illness. The trick is useful and unlimited in its uses.

I gasped loudly and my eyes snapped open. It took me a moment to remember what I had been doing before the silent dream of sleep, but the memory of the fire, wolf meat and the Hunter came back to me within a few seconds. My eyes pierced the slanted fabric roof of a tent and and I figured that I was lying down, tucked in with some blankets. A shiver ran down my spine. I paused, before it came to my understanding that I was in a tent and also that I was missing all my pain.

All of it - the leg, my neck and even a tiny scratch that had been begging on my right little finger for days - all of that pain was gone. It had vanished away. I breathed in as I tried to ease a hand out of the confines of these blankets and I touched the neck, where the bandage still was. After a very brief hesitation I lifted up the side and felt the wounds where I remembered them to be.

They were … gone.

Good, thought I, my pain at least was gone. That made things a lot easier and better. No more pain meant no major distraction. I shook a little before trying to sit up right. Blood sugar what would help to gain to that, and it was running healthier now.

I managed to sit up, and I realised I was naked, but quite honestly I did not care. I eased myself as best as I could onto my knees, escaping from the blanket before swinging my eyes around the interior of the tent.

It was small, and filled with just simple travelling things - a common pot, tankards and the like. Breathing in deep I nodded before I registered completely that there was no-one there before I raised my voice.

“Hello?”

There was a surprised grunt from outside - and then the sound of motion. The Hunter came in a moment later, looking rather disheveled. His hat and mask were not in evidence and he still hadn't seemed to find a short. Now, looking at his chest and with a mind that was thinking properly, I could see thick scars running from his shoulder to his waist. His silver eyes were wide as he came in, staring at me.

“You're alive.” Relief rolled across his shoulders, and his body posture relaxed. “Are you feeling better?”

I blinked a couple of times before angling my eyes away from the scars and immediately got caught in his glorious silver gaze. My lips formed a little circle and I was thrown off momentarily.

I had asked him to kill me and he had done it.

That was nice of him.

“How long has it been?” I asked, pulling the blanket underneath me to cover my exposed breasts. “And I am feeling better, yes, in a good comparison.” I sat there and smiled at him, liking the shade of skin under his eyes, the curve of his lips and the wildness of his hair. Vague memories of what I had considered possible with him came to me, and I hoped I hadn't said anything to him that I might regret.

“How are you?”

“Twelve hours or so, roughly. Give or take a few minutes.” Twelve hours, where I was seriously considering going to Philomel and asking her to end me because I had clearly become a monster, willing to just kill anyone who asked. Nine hours since the fire had died, leaving me in the cold and dark as night rolled over, and I ignored everything but waiting for the sound of movement in the tent. She had told me, twelve hours and she would be fine - and when my internal clock had ticked over, I had begun to worry. But - but she was awake. Staring at me as I stood in the tent.

“And I'm - feeling relieved. I was beginning to doubt your words before.” Fucking - wait. What the hell had she said after the fact that she would be fine after twelve hours? ‘Lovely, lovely -’ no. No I doubt she actually meant that. Probably part of a plea to be released from her pain. Despite that, my eyes flickered across her form, along the smooth lines of her body that she was hiding beneath my blanket.

She blinked. “So I did ask you.” She smiled softly. “Thank you Hunter. Not many would believe me or trust themselves enough. Or me,” she pulled up her cover a little more, and then relaxed. “Thank you for the food as well. And the lend of your tent.”

I swallowed, and nodded. “Yes. You asked me to kill you, and told me it would be twelve hours before you woke up again, and -” I broke off and turned around, looking away from her. I did not need her seeing my confusion, or my arousal. Because it was clear she didn't actually remember. So it didn't matter. “And you're welcome to stay in here a bit longer. I'll go out and get the fire going again, you're likely to be hungry after - reviving.” I paused a moment at the door flap to see if she said anything, looking over my shoulder at her.

She was smiling with a strange, excited look, her eyes on me, but when she saw I could see her she glanced away fast. “The coat I leant you is being used - was being used, as your pillow.” I cleared my throat and walked out of the tent.

Once I was outside I let out my breath. She was alive and well. She looked healthier than she had when she went to bed - there were no more signs of the faint exhaustion that I had missed before. That was a relief. I moved over to the fire and started stirring up the embers, bringing weakly warm coals to the surface from under the ash. Then I went into the trees to start gathering up wood to serve as fuel for a new fire.

Sweet moon what had that smile been about though. It had promised unspoken things, of - excitement and anticipation. I don't think I have ever had someone look at me that way, like I was - exactly what they wanted in that moment. Not in this lifetime at least. Philomel had been the closest, but she'd needed, wanted a friend more than anything else. The look in Vixen’s eyes was not that look. Hell, I didn't know what it was.

Out in the woods I shook off the tumult of thoughts. I - there was no nearby danger, I had killed or run off any dangerous beasts in the area. But still, it was the woods and accidents could happen. I'd heal, but I didn't want Vixen to think I had just walked off. I headed to check the traps I had set before I found the wolf trail. Luck - I had some fresh quail to use. I drove my dagger into the side of the struggling bird’s neck and sliced down, letting its blood spill across my hands. When I was sure it was dead, I undid my trap and headed back to the cap, a bundle of wood under one arm and the carcass held in my other hand.

(Mature from here...)

Not surprisingly I felt the energy that I had before the wolf fight had even begun. Oh yes, I could have given up with the wolves and let them eat and kill me but who honestly wanted that sort of pain? And Unicorn had a way that I felt when I was her - she was strong, instinctive and has many aspects based on survival. She had wanted to live and best those wolves. I had wanted to be free.

When the Hunter - Fil’ayn - did not return after half an hour or so I decided to get onto sorting myself out. He had rescued me from both the noose and the wolves, that was generous of him, and given me the cloak. But beyond that kindred he owed me nothing more. I needed to find clothes, some form of weapons close to what I had had before, and a direction. Undun the hermit had helped me figure out what I could do with my life now - we had spoken at length of what my strengths were and how I could try to investigate what had happened to the bird people I had been tasked with caring for when I initially came here.

He had cautioned against revenge, however, telling me that bringing war against the kami who had sold me to the Sorcerers of Hern, or going after the Sorcerers’ legacy of the great city-state of Hernsford, would only lead to my sorrow. This meant I needed to do something else with my life. Right now I was really just a babe in all of this - without even my dress, the rapier and the riding crop I had escaped to this continent with. I knew lots about facts and figures of the land, but little of the culture and the reality of it. Would the Huntsman be able to help me much at all, or would he rather I go soon so he could get on with his life.

It became clear I would need somewhere to start. I sat at the fire with Hunter's cloak around me, staring at the embers. I listed my wants and needs. Wants were sex, more meat, a sense of purpose and happiness. Needs were clothes, food, water, stability and at some point, sex. I folded my arms and glared at the dancing flames, wondering about how much I had talked about sex, or if I had mentioned it at all before I had fallen unconscious. I also realised I could not expect Hunter to respond to my every whim. He could help, of course, in providing me with food for now, and maybe taking me to the closest town, but he was not a long term solution.

My line of thought was cut off when he walked into the camp, heart picking up beat as I noticed he was still bare-chested. That was good, as it filled my want of happiness partly. And those scars … mighty he was a warrior, I knew that well.

“Ah - you're up. Good. We have more wolf meat if you're interested in that, or some quail meat instead.” My brows rose and I smiled at the idea of another type of meat.

“Quail?” I asked, lightness to my voice.

He lifted his right arm - he seemed to favor it for most things - and showed a bird in his hand. It was smaller than a hen would be, and was covered in its own blood. A small twinge in the back of my head told me of a light thirstiness for blood and I nodded at the bird.

“Can you drain the blood for me too?” I looked up to him. “Or … I can? You will need to show me how.” He seemed - thoughtful, looking at the bird in his hand. His silver eyes had an odd gleam to them and I saw him lick his lips.

“I - can, yes. Would - no, no. I - right.” He took a deep breath, his chest expanding and I could see the scars stretch for a moment before he exhaled. I raised a brow at the tone of his voice, but focused my eyes on the scars. A ripple of interest went down my spine.

“What were you going to ask?” I questioned, following the route of one scar to his belly. He stilled, those intense silver eyes on me.

“Would blood from a living donor be better?” His tone was - odd. Almost anticipatory, I would say.

My lips parted in surprise. My eyes - regretting it as soon as it had happened - flickered automatically to his. I was honestly shocked, as such a thing rarely happened. He was … offering himself?

I breathed in fast, the idea of fresh blood, living blood, flowing down my gullet very attractive. Fresh living stuff was always, always better. With the tip of my tongue I felt the sharp ends of my canines. Also, he seemed excited by the prospect of offering himself. A curious type of excited, that I secretly wanted to be him being turned on … but one thing first.

“Are you serious?” I asked. “I have one day, maybe two, before I begin to suffer side effects of not drinking, but a quail would do …” His silver eyes were locked onto mine as he very calmly set the bird down on the ground.

“I am - entirely serious. I have encountered a vampiric being before, and fresh blood was better than anything else. And I - well. I am entirely serious, Vixen. If you want to - you may drink from me. And I'll show you how to drain blood from animals as well, so in the future if you don't have someone else around you can survive. But -” He brushed his hand against his skin.

“I am serious. And I want you to.” He finally said, staring at me.

He … wanted it? I blinked, fairly surprised. An offer like that did not come along every day at all. And he was willing on showing me how to drain blood, so I wouldn't need to bite random people anymore. A shiver came to me, one of anticipation. So maybe he was turned on by it.

Slowly I stood, my heart racing. “Only if you're sure,” I said. “I owe you already for saving me - Unicorn - from being painfully killed as dinner, and from the noose. Now you offer me this …” I paused and looked at him a moment, nibbling my lip. I did not know if offering sex for repayment was allowed in society here. Instead I decided to concentrate on what was on hand.

I took a small step forward towards him. He dropped the wood with a clatter but didn't even look at it, and I could see his breath picking up a bit as I moved closer. Smiling softly I took the final step to close the distance between us and held my body inches from his.

“Thank you, Hunter,” I said, my pink eyes alive with light. “I will only take a little.” I grinned slowly, lifting up my upper lip to reveal those sharp fangs of mine. Moving my eyes away from his I focused on his collar bone, where only a few veins throbbed and where I was used to biting. “Thank you,” I repeated as I slid a hand around his waist, pressing our bodies together, separated only by the cloak.

He bent down and tilted his head to the side, offering me better access. “I said I want this. Take as much as you need -as much as you want - that won't kill me.” His voice was soft. Oddly - hungry.

“I won't kill you,” I murmured, bending my head close. He had to be able to hear my hammering, heartening heart. “I promise.” And I paused, feeling the joy and the rich, strong desire of sex.
Then I nodded to myself and opened my mouth. I bit into his flesh and … moaned.

Fuck, fuck this felt - good. It had to be - fuck. I could not help but moan myself as I felt her sharp teeth slide into my neck, digging in. This was far more erotic than when dhampir had fed on me - she had just bitten into my wrist. Not this - this neck kissing, sucking that was sending jolts of pleasure and desire straight down my spine. I cupped her, one hand going around the back of her head and holding her mouth against me, and the other cupped her ass as I felt my eyes close and I shuddered. A hungry groan came from her as she drank soft - then pulled away.

Her eyes shone with a hungry light. Upon her face was a marvellous smile. Her own hand around my waist pressed our bodies closer together. There was a pause before she grinned and went back to what she had been doing. I moaned loudly as she returned, and I pressed her hips against mine. At this point I had no doubt at all that she felt my arousal as she fed. For a while more she kept drinking, but then drew back before any serious issues to my health could happen and she looked directly at me, her lips coated in violet.

“Do you want me, Hunter?” she asked in a desiring voice. “I want it, but do you?” To answer her, I squeezed her ass tight, and stared into her eyes.

“Oh yes. Fucking hell, yes.”

“Preference?” she asked quickly, her breath on my skin. “I've done everything. Just tell me.” A light shone in her eyes. I groaned. Fuck. What the hell did I even want. Everything. I wanted to worship her small, tight body, and have her buck wildly on top of me, to pound her until one of us broke.

“I can be yours,” she whispered. “Or you mine.” I froze, and I could feel my heart hammering wildly in my chest. To - to let go? To not have control? That thought - it drove me more wild than I had expected. “Shall I be yours?” she whispered. “Either way, I am alive again.” I shook my head once.

“Yo-you’ve drunk my blood. I think th-that makes me yours here.” My words came out in a hoarse whisper. And fuck - I wanted my natural healing to kick in so she could keep drinking. It seemed I had a kink for that.

Her eyes looked at me curiously, before she laughed. “If you are sure, warrior. You tell me when you've had enough, yes? When I go too far?” I let out a soft laugh. I had - I had carved women open, made them bleed. I doubted she could go too far.

“I will. But I'm usually a sadistic person, so my perception of too far is messed up.”

Her smile remained. “We shall see.” Her other hand slid around to join with hers at the small of my back. She stared up at my eyes. “Perhaps of we ever meet again I can experience what you mean by too far. But for now …” she leaned up and gave a long, effective lick along my jawline. “Show me how much you want me.”

I groaned - fuck, this was different. And I found myself liking it. I let my hands fall from her, and fumbled at my trousers for a moment and then ripped them open, letting my shaft free. Her eyes dropped down and she gave a complementary nod. “That is good enough.” She ran her tongue across her lips before she looked up at me, her smile going for a moment and her tone going serious. “Kissing or no kissing? Full penetration or not?” I paused for a moment. I fought memories - then swallowed.

“Whatever you want. I want it all.” I surrendered.

Her mouth curled into a greedy smile. “Well then. Just say your real name and we can stop anytime. Until then …” her grin returned as she stretched up. “Kiss me.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. And I obeyed. I curled my hand around her waist again, and dipped my head down, capturing her lips with mine. My blood was - metallic on her lips. Not quite copper, but not iron either. I ignored that and focused on the feeling of her lips against mine - then her fangs softly stabbing into my lower lip, and I groaned. She smoothly ran a tongue across my lips, licking up the fresh blood that ran there. Then she kissed harder, lips to lips, leaning forwards into it as the nails of her hands began to join her grip on me at my back. She was holding me tight, as if I was some sort of possession. They ground into me and I could feel the twist of her lips curving into a smile as they pressed against mine.

I hadn't been kissed like I was the possession in a long time, if ever. I groaned into her mischievous kiss, and felt my hips roll as her nails dug into the dark skin of my back. She seemed to know what she was getting to me, and raked her nails up along my back, and my face tightened in pained pleasure, and I opened my mouth to moan. She cut me off with a fresh bite along my lower lip, and held it there until blood dribbled into her mouth. Then she leant back, a wicked grin on her face and her pink eyes gleaming with a rich desire.

“Nire maitea,” I whispered, in the language of the Uniano. “Nirea izango zara gaur gauean.” I gazed into his silver eyes, the desire to possess him entirely roaring through my veins.

Slowly I trailed one hand around to the front of his body, to his hip were it lingered for a moment. The other hand remained with the nails digging in, only slightly, as I stared.

“Nirea,” I called him, then translated. “[I]Mine.[/].”

It was time to see how far he was willing to let me go.

My hand that was on his hip slipped quickly up his body, touching only briefly his chest’s flesh before I brought it to his neck. And then, with a quick, firm grasp I secured my hand around it with a vice-like grip and I dragged him down to my level with a sudden, savage move.

“Are you still willing?” I hissed.

He let out a long, slow breath, and I could feel his heartbeat hammering in his neck. He gave a steady, firm nod. “Very much so, yes.”

My tongue slipped out and licked his jaw roughly, tasting his skin. It was smooth and had notes of a strange foreignness that I could not quite place. But - it would not hurt me, he had no natural poison that had affected me yet, thus likely had none that would in the future. I looked past him into the tent, eyeing that as my place to take him.

I kept my hand around his neck and started to head there, my grip tightening. He would find it difficult to breathe - that was fine with me. So long as he did not die, but I could control him like this. He was forced to keep up with me, and be at my height. I could hear him staggering, but did not look at him else. As we got to the tent I flung aside the door flap and then threw him towards the bed, only finally releasing him.

“Ropes. Fabric. Weapons. Where?” I asked, eyes blazing around the room.

He had landed on his hands and knees, and he shook his head for a moment, that short white hair shifting ever so slightly as he did so.

“I - have some rope in my pack. Extra clothes as well that can be torn. Weapons - I have daggers on the inside of the coat, and some iron and wood spikes on the vest over on the floor. My main wea-weapon is here.” He touched the cruel, jagged blade that was on his back, hooked to a holster on his belt.

Twisting back to him with lusty fire in my eyes I stared at him, then my eyes moved to his belt. A belt. Trousers. Why on earth did he have them still on? I headed towards him, grabbing the weapon. I pulled it free from his belt, likely breaking something. A ping told me it was so. For a brief moment I inspected the weapon and then curled my lip, finding the blade far too large for what I wanted. So I threw it down to the ground before turning away, a finger pointing at him.

“Egon zaitez bertan … Stay there,” I ordered as I walked over to the pack and clothes he had indicated. He would stay, I was sure, if he wanted me. If he wanted this.

Rifling through the pack I threw aside packs of dried meat, waterskins and blankets. I found a pair of manacles first, placing them down at my feet. Then I found the rope, and placed that aside, and finally a more or less ruined shirt. It would do. I flicked my tongue over my lips, tasting his blood again, as I searched around to find this vest he had mentioned. As I did I finally threw aside the cloak around me and stood there, finally full naked in front of him as I rifled. My butt wriggled in his direction. I let it do so, swinging my hips and letting him see just how lucky he was.

I heard a hungry groan from behind, and a glance over my shoulder showed that his eyes were locked in my form, and the muscles in his body that I could see were trembling slightly. He clearly wanted to move forward, but was listening to me, and not moving from where he was resting on his knees. I let myself laugh and wriggled my butt more, so the mounds of flesh that were literally part of a deity could make him hunger more. I was reminded of Herik, my lover who had ended up being my freedom, and the way he had ended up pining for me at our every encounter. I turned back around and found a knife, taking it from the vest and stood back up.

No more arse in face. I fingered the tip of the blade and found it to pierce my skin quite effectively and attractively. A small bead of blood popped into view. Curiously, I stared at it and a thought popped into view. Smiling, I turned to him and took a step forward to offer the finger.

“I tasted yours … Would you care to taste mine?” I held the dagger and waved it in the air like a pendulum as I watched and waited. His eyes were focused on the pearl of my blood, and I saw him shiver again. When I brought my finger near his mouth, he learned his head forward and his dark, purple tongue darted out and wrapped around my finger, coiling and curling about it, lapping away the red bead. I felt his groan of enjoyment vibrate my finger.

“Sweet…” He pulled away, his silver eyes shining as he watched my finger.

My eyes were full of enchantment. I found enjoyment as he drank, a shiver running up my spine. I took my finger from him, curtly nodding. “I am glad you enjoyed it, warrior. You will get more if you obey me.”

I lowered the knife and took a couple of steps back before I found the old, stained shirt. Taking it up I held it out to him. “Hold it taut between your hands,” I ordered, gesturing with my knife. “And we will make some of your bonds together.”

I swallowed. Was this what people felt when they submitted to me? This eager anticipation to see what happened next? I took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to ignore the lingering aftertaste of her blood on my tongue. Slowly, I reached up and took the shirt in my hands - noting absently that it was the one I usually wore when I was working on curing hides - and stretched it out, pulling the fabric taut. It, like most of my clothes, had been treated to repel fluids - made it far easier to clean up - but it was so old that the treatment had been wearing off, leaving faint bloodstains behind.

I held the stretched shirt up towards her. She grinned widely at me - and oh that almost predatory grin sent shivers down my spine - and drew the blade down the middle, slicing it. She had me set one half down, and slowly we went, the only words spoken were her soft commands to shift and hold different pieces up. Soon enough we had a loose pile of strips of fabric - some glossy, some stained - sitting on the ground between her feet and my knees.

For a while she gazed at them before nodding and leaning back. She flexed her muscles and curved her spine gracefully as she swung the arm not containing the dagger out. Her hand delicately plucked both rope and manacles from the ground and brought them over. She straightened again and paused before throwing the manacles over at me.

“Put those on. In front,” her grin was truly glorious. I slowly picked up the iron handcuffs. I had these for the few times when I was asked to bring a target back alive, so they hadn't seen much use recently. I removed the key and set it down by her feet, then clicked the left cuff into place, then the right. It was - odd. The last time I had been in manacles had been when Philomel, the faun captain who had captured me and taken me from Alerar, had had me on her ship. This was - far from the same kind of situation, and I now I found myself, frankly, excited to see where this went.

I slowly looked up her long slender legs, along the curve of her body, and focused my eyes onto her pink gaze. I felt my mouth go dry as I shifted slightly, letting her see that I had put the cuffs on.

Gently she scooped up the keys with her toes and brought it up to her hand. She peered at it for a moment before grinning and - throwing it over her shoulder into the depths of the tent.

Then she sat down and opened her legs before me, displaying her womanly beauty very well. Her head tilted to the side for a while, watching my reaction as I licked my lips. One very loud part of me, the part I normally went with, was begging me to snap the chain between the manacles - to throw Vixen down and make her bleed and scream, to draw out moans of pain and pleasure as I stained her body red with blood and drew a shuddering orgasm from her body. But - here and now, I was putting that side of me away for a moment. I was letting her take control of things. So I just trembled and stared - because as of yet, she hadn't told me, or asked me, anything.

She leant forwards and picked up three lengths of fabric and tied them together before holding them out to me. I took them slowly, and she nodded, saying nothing before she started plaiting. Her eyes became concentrated on that, her breathing getting heavier and heavier as she did. She kept going, tying off the end before then grabbing another set and, wordless, passing them to me. We continued for some time, and my body trembled lightly as she worked. I wanted that focused pink gaze locked onto me - but she had said we were making bonds here, and I could see them coming together. As she worked on making the first level of twined fabric, I raised one brow and gently coughed - holding two of the loops she had made together, wordlessly asking if she wanted me to braid them. Moon above this was getting to me - her breathing getting heavier was affecting me, and I felt my heart rate picking up slowly and steadily.

She looked up and blinked at me. Her head tilted to the side before she stuck out a foot and suddenly placed it on my manhood beneath my trousers. She nodded and waved at the fabric strips. “We will work faster if both of us work,” she agreed as she pressed her toes forth.

I could not help the groan that slipped from my lips as my body trembled. I started working quickly, fingers dancing back and forth as I wove the fabric together, creating thicker bands.

I felt his hard pleasure beneath my toes and smiled without looking at him as I made him want me even more. This was good, this game. I was deliberately making him want me, yearn for me, hunger for me, and all that was in his way was his own will to allow me to be mistress. It made me like this one even more, the fact that when I finally got down to it his hunger would be so very, very full. So I continued to apply pressure and continued to wet his appetite as we formed his bonds. I deliberately forced him into a groan as I secretly slipped some small pebbles I had found earlier into a plait, and then set that one aside.

Finally I moved, and I could just feel his impatience. I had made him way for so long and teased him, and he had managed to wait out as I took my own time to take my use of him.

I stood and picked the rope. Looking at him I smiled, innocently.

“Are you wanting me still, warrior?” Those staring silver eyes focused on me and I saw him swallow.

“Yes, yes I am.” His voice was deep and throaty with desire as his eyes moved to the rope in my hands. Wondering, no doubt, what I planned to do with it.

“Then say these words,” I said, and gave him a phrase in my old native tongue as I held tight the rope in my hands. “Zurea naiz.”

“ Zur.. Zurea…” He had a slight frown on his face as he concentrated, and I could see he was focusing intently on matching my pronunciation of the words as best as he could. “Nay- no, nai? Naiz.” He looked back up to my eyes, silver gaze intent. “Zurea naiz.”

Softly, I smiled and nodded.

“Yes you are,” I said to the man who had told me that he was mine. I held that gaze for a moment before I finally nodded.

Sweeping down a hand I took up the knife again, then sliced off a large section of the thin rope. Taking just that I then leant forwards, letting my small but very round breasts bulge in his eyes as I pressed closer to him. Mischievously I winked before I took the rope and brought it up to his lips.

“Open,” I commanded. His eyes widened - but his lips fell open, baring those shockingly white teeth and the black-purple interior of his mouth. I laughed at his expression as I leaned and grabbed a chunk of a cuff of the shirt I had kept behind and then stuffed it into his mouth. Then, swiftly I shoved the rope between his teeth and got up, swinging around him. I pulled the ends of the rope hard behind his head so it would be uncomfortable and forced the gag in deeper. I tied it tight and grinned as I shoved a hand around the nape of his neck.

Time to go back to the harshness. He had told me he was mine, and I was going to show him. Pricking him with my nails I dragged him up higher. I leant to grab the knife and began savagely attacking his trousers. I let go of his neck and stabbed his back with my nails as I yelled.

“On your feet.”

He staggered upwards, bracing an elbow on a knee before he forced himself upright. His purple blood was trailing down his torso and his legs, from where I had stabbed him with my nails and from where the knife had cut a bit more than just the fabric of his trousers. Despite this, he seemed actually a little steadier on his feet than he should have been with the amount of blood I had drank, and what was now slowly falling along his dark skin. It made my systems roar with desire and as I finished off the ruining of his good quality trousers. I found myself leaning forwards to run a rough tongue up his body. Blood clung to it and a shiver of ecstasy ran down my spine. So smokey it was in taste, so rich and sumptuous. Like meat. So, he was surviving better than others might with blood-loss - that served me well. It meant this night would last so good.

Last of all I ordered him to take off his boots and he complied. Then, snaking my hand up and grabbing his neck again I began to drag his gagged self to the pole where I shoved him in front of it. It was then that I looked at him for a moment and I paused to see those bite marks that I had initially made were gone. Healed. Completely. My head tilted and I grinned.

So he had enhanced healing.

I ached. Oh, I ached. My erection was hard enough to cause a bit of discomfort at this point t, and she'd barely touched it. But she had kept driving those, those fucking nails into me, and the sharp little crescents of pain were delicious agony. The gag was, while a bit painful, more of a disappointment than anything else - because now, until she removed it, I couldn't taste her in anyway. No, all I could taste was the faint tang of my own sweat, soaked into the hem of the cuff from years of wear. Annoying more than anything else, that.

I stood, shaking once from tension, in front of the pole in the middle of the tent. I had to duck my head a bit to avoid hitting the fabric roof - it was just a few inches too short for me to stand upright comfortably. In this situation, I doubt that would matter. Vixen was currently examining me, and her eyes had lit up as she grinned widely. I didn't know what was running through her head - or, what those words she had had me say meant. They obviously meant something significant to her, but whatever language she spoke, it wasn't one I was familiar with.

I watched her as she slowly craned her head to one side, her eyes focusing on my neck. Did - did she want to drink again? I had recovered, for the most part, from her earlier feeding. I shivered and a wave of desire rolled through me at that thought. Shit. It seemed I definitely had a fetish for having my blood drunk. Thankfully it wasn't like there was a surplus of vampire women running around looking to feed for mutual pleasure, which was all I was interested in. Just the one, at least that I knew of, and she was already looking at me like her birthday had come early.

Her eyes snapped been to mine as she let a warm smile come over her face. She nodded at me and then twirled around me slowly. As she walked I could see her pick up the braids she and I had made and the ropes. I drew in a breath. Was she going to be whipping me to start? No, that wouldn't make sense, why would she have me stand in front of the pole if that was the case? I shivered. Fuck. I twisted my head slowly to track her, keeping my eyes on her. Not because I didn't trust her - fuck, at this point all I had on me was literally the manacles and the rope - but because I found I just could not take my eyes off of that lithe form.

Swiftly she came forwards and suddenly grabbed my elbows from behind. Pulling them right back she caused me to slam against the tent pole. The whole structure began to rock. Then rope was passed between my elbows, the roughness of the material being dragged over my flesh to make it clear. I shivered. This wasn't inescapable, but it was uncomfortable, and contorted my body a bit. Without breaking my tent, I was at her mercy. It - excited me.

I heard a chuckle behind me before her white form appeared at my coal coloured shoulder. A wink and she gave my shoulder a small, direct nip with her teeth before disappearing again. There was a moment where I could feel fresh blood oozing, and that was a distraction before braided cords began to lash themselves around my ankles, dragging them together and tying them to the pole. I moved my feet back - suppressing the nervous tension that ran through me here. I could likely break these ropes if I absolutely had to - but that wasn't the point here. I was not in danger - at least I hoped not. I swallowed. At least, not actual danger.

But what was she planning? I couldn't go anywhere without being untied now, and all I could do was go back to my knees. I turned my head back to catch sight of her. She was holding the dagger back in her hand and was eyeing me up as if studying me. When she caught sight of me looking at her she laughed, then lowered the knife blade to come at me. She appeared at my shoulder, teeth biting her lip as she gazed down at my form with firm desire.

“Mmmm,” she said. “Let's just see how well you heal, little warrior?”

Then the cold blade of the knife was at my abdomen. Her arm was snaking around my waist as she stood just at my back. As her teeth descended to bite hard into my shoulder the blade lightly pressed into my flesh. I let out a loud groan, muffled by the gag in my mouth. Fuck! I dared not let my hips buck, that would just drive the knife in deeper.

She began to drink as the knife drew patterns in my skin. It slid down, soft but piercing toward my navel. Her other hand at the same time caught around my other side and rested there. Slowly she drank, tenderly she carressed me with the knife and sharply her nails began to dig in as the three points of pain became three points of pleasure, for her … And for me. Her body pressed against mine, her breathing was regular but hungry, and a groan was in her throat the more she went on. The knife traced up my chest and up to my neck.

It paused as it touched my throat. By this time she had stopped biting, and her other hand was no longer digging nails into me. There was a moment of nothing before hand opened and with a clatter the knife fell to the floor. I breathed heavily. Fuck. Fuck I did not want her to stop. Why the hell had she stopped? That pain had been fantastic - I wanted more. Why the hell had she stopped touching me? I moaned in disappointment and tried to turn my head to look to her.

He was twisting and turning, trying to turn his head to catch sight of me as I moved my hands away from his body. Violet blood leaked down from the nonsensical patterns I had sliced into his stomach, the cuts just barely breaking the skin in some places, in others driving in deeper. The marks from my nails were already fading, as well as the lighter cuts from the knife, but the deeper ones were taking long, scabbing over.

Below his stomach, his erection was jutting out, almost angrily, bobbing in time with his heartbeat. Thin rivulets of his blood had fallen even there, and stained his coal-black skin purple. He let out a soft moan, an almost wanton sound, but it was heavily muffled by the shirt cuff I had filled his mouth with earlier. His body trembled, and I could see that he was restraining himself from moving too much - of course that could also be because if he moved too much, he would fall to his knees.

“If it is too much,” I whispered. “Fall, my warrior, fall. There is no shame in that.”

Gently I ran my lips across his collarbone, breathing in the still pungent odour of his strong blood that at least oozed at his collar bone. I gave him a playful nick, my grin large and ominous. Then I parted from him to lean back and take up the plait I had hidden the pebbles in at one end. As his body trembled with the decision of whether or not to fall I grabbed a few other strips. Darting forwards, before he could do anything but be indecisive I flicked three bands of fabric around his eyes, catching them easily. I kissed his neck cruelly as I tied them tight at the back of his head, his use of eyes now not available to him.

He shivered, and I could see the muscles in his shoulders and legs twitch and strain. Then he breathed in, deeply, his chest rising and falling once, twice - and then he deliberately knelt down. His knees were now on either side of the tent pole, his feet a short distance behind it. I watched as he leaned his head back and rested the back of it against the pole behind him. My lips curled up in a smile and I let him rest for a couple of minutes, getting his breath as I eased out the cords of the makeship whip in my hand.

My body shivered with my own delight and I felt my underneath beginning to self-moisturise. Indeed, I was enjoying this as much as he was (by his stiff manhood), but I would not let him know.

Not just yet.

Slowly I breathed, and let the minutes extend. I did not move, as he was left in unknowing silence. I could see his shoulders roll and his body tremble, and there was an odd, curious groan that tried to slip out past the gag. His head twisted slightly, as if he was trying to reach me but I wasn't there. It seemed to confuse him.

Laughing with delight I skipped around to his side, pleased to see he still wanted me. I eyed his side for a moment - the strong thigh and the chest - and there I focused before extending my arm out behind me.

Then I struck. Hard and unforgiving, the pebbles smacking against his flesh. He shook, his body flinching away - then he was back, straight backed, his head trained in the direction had struck from. I could see that his body tension had shifted - from confusion, to anticipation.

He liked it then. So, again I hit, bold and determining, smack on his side. I saw a large bruise popping into existence from where I had first hit and now a second stripe was joining it. If he could gasp I am sure he would have as I used all my strength to then lash his chest, right along the diaphragm. My own body surged with delight at the prospect of dealing, and memories of taking, this type of pain to one who was allowing me to do it.

A fourth time I hit, on the opposite thigh to the place I had begun and I whispered. “Do you want me to stop?”

His hips rolled back and forth slowly, and he shook his head with a heavy motion, like it took conscious thought to make it move. He had leaned towards my voice when I spoke, moving towards me as much as he could. I grinned and gave him a single gift - a short but heavy kiss, around his gag. He seemed to enjoy it, stretching towards me longingly, but I was not finished.

I moved back and swung back the crop as best as I could before driving it over the exposed cheek of his arse.

I groaned. This was maddening. I wanted more, a lot more. My body trembled and shook, and the jolt of pain rolled through me as the plaited shirt, apparently with stones in it, cracked against my ass. Fuck! She had kissed me - but even the kiss was ruined by this damn gag, this fucking rope. I had felt just the her lips against mine, but it hadn't been enough, I craved more, a lot more. I wanted to taste that sweet blood of hers again - hell, I wanted to taste her, her body. I think, of all that she had done to me so far, the gag was the worst. I chewed at the cuff for a moment, despising it.

Another hit came, this time to my other butt cheek. She seemed to be enjoying it, a sweet merry laugh coming from her voice as she spun around me. The next hit came across my thigh, where she had originally hit, then over my shoulder above it. She seemed to favour that side, lashing down a further time as I then felt a sweet kiss on my shoulder, followed by the hardest, most vicious bite yet.

My head dropped back, and behind the blindfold my head dropped back. I groaned, loudly, the sound shaking my body. Moon, yes, give me this pain and pleasure! I ached for more - for her to even touch me. And now I could feel her fangs digging into me, piercing me. It was fantastic. Not enough - but fantastic nonetheless. The muscles in my legs tensed and ached as I clenched them. Sweet moon I needed this. I hated the fact that I couldn't see her, couldn't taste her - but it was what she clearly wanted right now, so I wasn't going to balk against that. Not yet, at least.

She drank, well and deep, satisfying her hunger for who knew how long. As she did she smacked me around my thigh, but it was weaker than all the times before. Still drinking she hit once, then a last time before the whip was thrown to the ground. Then, her body coming into line with mine from behind, pressing into my back she just drank, a hungry groan in her throat. Her hands gripped me from my sides, but the nails did not sink in. Instead she seemed to simply get off on the simple joy of drinking my blood. I could feel her breasts press against my arm, and between us there was enough fiery lust to set the tent aflame.

My body was trembling as she drank. Fuck this felt good. I could feel my cock aching for attention at this point - her lips on my flesh, her fangs in me, it was so arousing that I couldn't help it as my hips rolled. Gods. I wanted this more badly than I realized. It had been too long since the last time I had sex - and even longer, I think, since I had given up control like this. It felt good, very, very good. And her drinking was - helping. In the best, worst, way possible.

She pulled away gently, and paused before her smooth tongue licked along my shoulder, picking up the bleeding around there. I could hear her panting breath at my shoulder, the excitement in it. There was a long moment of pause before she very gently kissed me at the neck. I moaned. Fuck. Fuck, I was easily as excited as she was.

“You are strong, warrior … gerlari,” she murmured to me. “You have been very good. Would you like me to remove your gag and blindfold?”

I chewed at the gag again, trying to work my jaw. “Ghg.” Fuck. I hope she understood that. I sure as hell did not. There was a pause.

“Nod if you want the blindfold removed.” I paused. The blindfold - I didn't really mind it. It was, in a way, exciting not to see what she was doing. To just feel and experience it. So I shook my head. No. Just get this damn gag out of my mouth so I can taste you, dammit.

“And the gag?” Oh, here I nodded. Firmly. Several times. Please get this damn thing out.

A light laugh. “Okay, young gerlari,” she said, with pleasure. And footsteps carried her around to my back. There was a pause but finally the rope began to loosen and eventually fall away.

I spat out the cuff and worked my jaw several times, trying to ease the pain in my lips and jaw itself. Oh, that was better, much much better. I ran my tongue across my lips, wetting them, and took a deep breath. It felt good not to have that damn cuff in my mouth any more. I turned my head in the direction of her last footstep that I had heard. “Zurea naiz.” I said it softly, repeating it low. She had seemed to like it earlier - I hope it got to her now.

“I am yours.”

As he repeated the words to me without being asked to, and close to the correct pronunciation I felt my heart beat proudly. He had done well, and responded as the best lover might to the pain I had instilled. He had healing and I had already tested that limit by drinking the most amount of blood I had in some time. The taste of his meaty, almost smokey blood still flavoured my mouth, with the coppery highlights. Softly I leant forwards and cupped his jaw, tilting his head upwards.

“My gerlari,” I said to him. Soldier. I don't know why, for some reason it was fitting him. “I am proud of you.”

Then I kissed him proper, sliding my tongue across his lower lip. He moaned and his mouth slipped open, and his own tongue darted out to meet mine.

Slowly then I kneeled before him, moving my hand with a stroking motion from his jaw to his shoulder. My other hand lowered until I could properly grasp his manhood, strong and tight. I smiled gently as I held it steadily, my hand not moving, watching his trembling anticipation before I grinned.

“Shall I go on?” I whispered.

He groaned. Loud, his body trembling. But he didn't move, his hips remaining immobile. Like he thought that my not moving meant he could not. “Wha-whatever you want me to. Here and now, I am yours, Vixen.” His voice was a low roll, deep and throaty. His silver eyes were trained on mine, staring into them intently.

“Yes you are,” I said powerful as I began to rub. “You are.” Slowly I reached behind me and found the knife again. “You are.”

I bit my lip, and leant forwards to kiss him as I gently began to massage. I kept the kiss long and lingering, letting his lips taste my flesh more pure than he had when he had when he was gagged. It was sure, firm and beautiful and I pressed close without any other meanderings as I gave him the gift of my hands.

That was until I brought the knife to his chest and literally began to carve my name into his chest.

His eyes, which had drifted closed as I kissed him deeply, shot open wide. There was - pain in them as he let out a groan against my lips, a drawn out, shuddering thing. It was a pained noise, but he didn't pull away from the bite of the knife. “T-The scars will f-f-fade in a few days.” His voice was soft, and a bit choked. Good. So he did actually feel pain.

I nodded solemnly as I pressed deeper into his flesh with the blade. “They might. Yes.”

Then I smiled as I lowered my mouth to suit my jaws around his manhood. Swiftly I ran my tongue up and down his member, my eyes falling closed and my voice lowering into a hum. With my tongue I aimed to pleasure him and with my knife I aimed to pain him. I carved the country of my birth in him before he groaned loudly.

Fuck - I had not been expecting this. At this point I had almost begun to expect just more teasing and more denial, so the feeling of her hot mouth on me was - good, very, very good. Almost good enough to completely distract me from the blade being dragged along my skin. She was, I thought, trying to carve letters into me. I couldn’t make out the words - they were backwards to me - but it was an interesting pain, a new one. Not the pain of being cut - I’d experienced that before, in several different situations - but this, being written on, literally in my own blood? It was - new. Painful, and new.

And then she hummed again, and I had drop my head back against the pole. I couldn’t see what she was doing - each movement was only known to me when I felt it. My body shook as she slid her head back and forth, her tongue dancing up and down. Damn. Damn this was good. I didn’t want this to stop. I was at her mercy, what had become a rather rare occurrence for me. Most people I had been with in recent memory had wanted to experience my sadistic side, very few of them had wanted - tamer things. Or, to be in control. So this, this surrendering of control? Of -not even knowing what she was having me say to her? It was different. Exciting.

I groaned as she swirled her tongue around - and drove the blade in deeper, scoring something she had written. She was trying to balance the two, pleasure and pain, and doing it in an interesting way. But the pain was slowly overwhelming the pleasure - I had blood running freely down my torso from the stinging cuts, the letters carved into my flesh. I might have been worried, but I knew my healing would erase the scars within a few days, unless I tried to keep them fresh for long enough. Which - I didn’t think I would do. As immensely pleasurable as this was, it was for - oh what was she doing now? She had moved away a bit - and the cool air was actually sending tingles along my flesh. Above the impromptu blindfold, my eyebrows rose.

A particularly odd question then rang out. “Galari … how old are you? And you are from that place called Alerar, yes? You are a drow, and I know they are from there.”

And I could feel her hand resting on my member, but the knife had gone. At least the cold metal touch of it. She was somewhere in front of me, speaking, and her fingers began to idly massage my shaft.

My hips rolled slightly, craving more of that touch, and I shook my head slowly. I cleared my throat, trying to focus on the words. “I - uuuunnn - I have live for round eight hundred years, but becauuuse of an event my physical body was reset.” Fuck I could not keep these groans under control. It was maddening.

“I see,” her voice sounded impressed. “I am a little over three thousand and five hundred years. Unfortunately though over half of that has been-” she suddenly whacked me over the thigh with an open hand. I flinched, my body recoiling from the sudden, unexpected impact. “-spent in a cell deep under a city. I escaped a month ago.”

“I - only remembered most of my life recently.” I admitted slowly.

“I see,” she said, still perfectly calmly, her hands still massaging. Or at least one hand. The other - the one that had hit - had still not returned. “I used to be highly powerful, the guardian of a species. But then I was betrayed and sentenced to slavery and my powers stripped. They have just begun to return. Tell me more about your life you are just remembering.”

I had to admit, I was confused. Not sure where this interest in me had suddenly come from. I swallowed, and rolled my shoulders as best as I could in a shrug. “I - had a wife and child, together for most of that - fuck. Ah…. AhAh. Then the mage hunters found out about their magic and came to ‘rescue’ me. Didn't care that after hundreds of years together I probably already knew and didn't care.” I wouldn't say that it was my fault they learned, because I had told the wrong person about it. I already couldn't keep the bitterness from my words. “My last memory from that life is seeing my daughter dead in front of me, and my wife being gutted. She -” No. I didn't want to think about that tiny, still form. Fuck. Now I was crying. The final words came out in a rush.

“There was a flash of silver, and that's it.” I turned my head away from her. Not that it mattered, the blindfold was soaking up the tears already.

I was silent for some time. Slowly I stopped the dance of my fingers across his member. My eyes looked up to where his were hidden beneath the blindfold and I could see hints of moisture beginning to bead. The pain in his voice had been clear and I regretted in that moment having the interest and delaying it until now. But it had always been part of the plan. And I had had more to come but feelings of guilt were forming in my stomach. I at least still had enough respect within me for people to understand that it was not right to continue.

Not if he wanted to halt.

I reached upwards, taking the knife I had been hiding in my hand and carefully sliced off the blindfold, without harming him. It fell around his shoulders and I could now plainly see the pain. My face showed little emotion, though there was an element of empathy for I knew what the loss of a spouse felt like, but I looked right into his eyes.

“Shall we stop?” My voice was steady and sane in tone. His silver eyes focused on mine as he blinked away the last of tears, and his gaze was intent.

“Don't you dare.” His voice was a whisper.

I looked at him for a second, checking his intent, then I nodded. “Well then.”

I had given him the chance. Now my guilt was gone, and I was going to be more merciless for it. Or at least more selfish. He still had the option at any time to finish it with his name.

I moved then, and stood. Going around to his back I severed the ropes binding his ankles to the pole, and I loosened those holding his elbows together.

“Move to a more comfortable position,” I told him as I came back around, knife still in hand. “You will need to for pleasing me next.”

He blinked and tilted his head to the side, then shifted and adjusted himself slowly, thinking. He stood back up then moved around so that he was facing me with the pole between us, his hands extended to one side. “Did you still want me tied to the pole, fair one?” His voice was softer than it had been, but the traces of pain had gone from it.
“There is nowhere else to bind you to-” I paused for a moment, thinking about how him still bound might affect my own enjoyment. Grunting, I stepped forwards and flashed the blade again. I sliced off the rest of the ropes holding his elbows. Then I turned, reaching down to grab more of the bindings we had made. I looked between them and him, and smiled as an idea came to me.

“Just stay still,” I said as I leant forwards, my eyes steadily on his. Then, taking one the plaits I moved my hands towards his neck. Slowly I pushed the plait behind and then around, tying it off with a firm knot. Still with my eyes on his I attached a further one to that. Then, to his probable disbelief I tied the end of that to my wrist.

“Mine,” I grinned. He stared at me for a long moment, looking along the length of what had become his leash. He knelt down slowly, letting slack fall into the line.

I straightened, now with him bound close to me. Gently placing the hand with the binding tied to it on his shoulder I encouraged him to lean against the pole. I kept the hand there as I moved myself over him, over his chest, then over his face.

My legs held me, straddled over his face. The proof of my enjoyment was there to be seen by him. I bit my lip, balancing against pole and by the assistance of his shoulder.

“I have given you joy, now do the same.”

I gestured between his mouth and the between of my legs. As if it hadn't been obvious until then. I waited with baited, excited breath.

He leaned forward, and his dark tongue slid out, almost hesitant at first. Not shying away from me - but as if unsure this was being allowed. When I didn't retreat, he pressed his face forward, and his tongue started to glide along tender flesh in long, slow strokes. Immediately I began to groan as the tingles of pleasure filled me. My back arched, as I felt his skill and my eyes rolled closed. For a moment I enjoyed it.

He still was being too timid for my liking though. My eyes snapped open and I hissed. My hand suddenly moved from his shoulder into the hair at his head and I wove my fingers into it. I pulled, forcing his mouth closer.

“More!” I yelled. “Deeper.”

I couldn't help the grin on my face as she shoved me deeper into her folds. Good. Good, I was getting to her. I complied, and drove my tongue in deeper, piercing into the wet folds of her pussy hungrily. I was tasting her now - she was sweet, almost like her blood, but salty. Tart, a sharp biting contrast to the pleasant sweetness. I rolled and twisted my tongue inside of her, pumping it back and forth. Her body started shaking - so I reached up and cupped her ass in my hands, and held her steady as I drove my tongue deeper inside of her.

She moaned heavily, letting out a string of words I did not know. “Oh maitea. Polit bat!
Hori da odoltsua harrigarria!” She wrung her fingers tighter into my hair, sharply and painfully yanking it.

She hadn't pulled away or told me to stop yet. Good, good. I switched up my tactics and began rolling my tongue into shapes and patterns, moving it in and out rhythmically. She gasped, her back now a perfect parabola. Her hips swayed, the hand at my hair was dangerously close to ripping out strands by the roots.

“Yes,” she hissed. “I should keep you. Forever.”

She was dripping wet, and still cumming. She panted, her body too excited with joy to breathe properly. As I thrust my tongue in deeper she suddenly climaxed, yelling out a swear that I did not know. “Arraio!”

I pulled my head back slowly as her body trembled, licking my lips. Keep me. Forever, hmm? While I was definitely thinking of a repeat occurrence - I doubt either of us wanted to be tied down ‘forever’. Still. That reaction had been - good. Very, very satisfying. I kept holding her upright with one hand, and slid my other to slowly push two fingers inside of her and started pumping them, steady, methodical thrusts that ground against the insides of her pussy caressing spots my tongue had been in not moments before. I watched her carefully, figuring out the spots she felt the most pleasure from.

She had asked me to pleasure her. And I would. I grinned. Maybe later I would get her to explain what she had said. I grinned wider. Oh yes. I found this - very, very nice. I normally wasn't one to submit, but this was quite a lovely sight. Maybe next time we met, I would let her take the reins again. Or - not. Time would tell.

She gasped and moaned, tipping back her head as I delved with her. Her body was shaking from the orgasm, I could feel her legs trembling. As she rocked back into a second climax her hands slipped from my hair to brace herself fully against the pole as she cried out.

“Fil-!” she began to call, then gulped as she cut herself off, biting her lip. She pressed her forehead against the pole.

“If you want to cry my name out - that's fine. We can use your nickname if you want to stop.” My voice was steady, hungry, as I drove my fingers inside of her, twisting, pressing, searching. She screamed in joy, bucking her hips.

“Fil’ayn,” she shrieked. “Oh my, you are … oh my warrior! Fil’ayn!”

Her breathing was ragged and her body barely able to hold itself, but she somehow found the energy to move. Shaking, she began to push herself from the pole. I slowly drew my fingers out of her as she backed away, and waited to see what she was doing. Her legs were trembling but she managed to stay upright as I tilted my head to one side. I slowly began licking my fingers clean, making a show of it as I watched her. Rapidly she moved, so chaotic that she yanked the makeshift rope around my neck. It did not seem to bother her as she moved the hand back to be closer to my shoulder, then moved her body until it properly straddled me. Breathing heavily she made her intentions very clear as she slid her hips to align with mine.

“Yes?” she stared almost desperately into my eyes. I smirked, and used my hand to finish lining up.

“Whenever you're ready. Zurea naiz.”

Her form quivered with undoubtful pleasure as I spoke the words. Hands on my shoulders she descended downwards and backwards, rocking her hips in a way close to perfection.

My body was alive, as if a brilliant mage had bristled my form with a hundred sparks of lightning. I was bristling with elation and I stretched back by form as I eased onto his manhood, lips immediately letting out a low, long moan. I was ready, and he had been ready for some time, and thus my whole system was electric by the time I had descended the full way. He fit inside me like a tailored glove, so long had we spent this wild foreplay. My body sang with more joy than I had in some time.

“I - I can make this more … this is me,” I smoothly sent out my sense of self, easing out the euphoria from me. It was glorious and fluid and I accepted it myself, the feeling of perfection that it gave, and that extra sense of divine happiness. Naturally, normally, I was not affected, because it was me, the integral part of my peaceful Uniano being, but this time I allowed it. I let myself be filled with the elation of the bliss that it brought, and encouraged my warrior to do the same.

“It's - it's not a danger,” I huffed.

He let out a loud, loud groan, and I felt his manhood swell inside of me. I could see it getting to him, his eyes glazing over. Then - they snapped clear, and his hands lifted me up, and for a moment I thought he didn't want this, want me, anymore. Until he brought me back down, lifting his hips upwards to fill me more fully, stretching me out.

“You - say that… nnnnn” He seemed to be having trouble concentrating in words. My warrior cleared his throat. “You say that like I need more than this, than you, in the first place.” He lifted me up again, slowly, then brought me back down, a steady rhythm that left me vacant for a moment before he was back within me. “Maybe in the - unnn - future you can torment me with that. But for now, for this first time, all I need is your heat.” His strong hands moved me, rolling my hips in a slow circle in top of him, making his length stir around inside of me.

I let the projection fade then - if he did not think it it was necessary then I could do without the distraction of keeping it up. For myself I was already feeling something close to this as he moved underneath me and I felt the best joy for what had been such a long time. His hands - damn they were still cuffed and I regretted that I had kept them that way. I found myself shakily reaching out and reaching for them as I could see them. The leash - that was more symbolic and so would stay for now, even though now we were both giving and taking.

His hands left my body and he let me grab them, squeezing them tight. I paused with him deep inside me and tried to pull at the links hard, to break them. But - well. I was weak.

“I - I want them off you-” I gasped.

His eyes widened for a moment, then he nodded. I saw the muscles in his forearms bulge - before the iron links shattered. My own lips trembled with the sudden knowledge that he was that strong and I let myself lift up again, coming fully off him. For a while I hung, staring into his eyes.

“In the future, our next time, you will torment me,” I whispered, before I pushed back down. He let out a long, slow groan, then blinked.

“I focus on pain, Vixen, not denial and teasing. That is how I torment, pain and pleasure mixed.” He sounded curious - as his hands began to roam my body, fingers scraping and massaging at my skin. His touch was soft, exploratory, and never lingered on one spot for too long - not even when he brushed against my nipples, or my clit. Those silver eyes burned into mine, watching every reaction. Studying me intently. He was - testing me, as I held myself on top of him. Learning where I liked to be touched.

“I told you,” I gasped as he touched my nipples. “That - that I was a slave then prisoner. My - my first master, and his grandson, and his son all pre-” I broke off as he flinched past my neck, “Preferred pain. I told you, I am used to all. I have - have experienced it all. I enjoy … have had time to enjoy it all.”

I let out a last loud, shriek as I climaxed again. And in that moment I knew my body could take little more. Unless I wanted to end up barely able to crawl I needed to move and I did so, slipping off him before crashing to the ground.

Right beside him and gasping.

“That,” I shivered, finally pushing the leash off my wrist. “Was. Amazing.”

I slowly, casually began stroking myself. I hadn't finished yet - but she was looking rather worn at this point. I doubted her pussy could handle another go. And I was also turning over what she had said in my mind, and I frowned. That was - off. Not quite right. I stared down intently at her. She had been ‘trained’ to enjoy it, no doubt. Been forced to. But that didn't mean she actually craved it, desired it. There were times when I yearned for a lover to cut me, to draw my blood and hurt me. Just as there were times when I craved drawing blood, to cause my partner pain. What she was describing was - not that.

“You have had time. But that does not mean you truly desire it, but that you see that I do so you seek to please me.” I hummed in thought. So. She was submissive, but not necessarily truly masochistic. Despite what people often thought, the two did not have to coincide. “Come here, fair one, when you can move. You should finish what you started.” As I said that I pulled my hand away from my shaft, and let it rest on her back, gently massaging her upper shoulders and neck. This also gave me a chance to recover, to back down from the edge of orgasm that she had driven me to. Good.

She lay there for a while, her shaking body taking its time to gain back its energy. She gulped in breaths, relaxing under my hands. A soft whimper came from her at one point, but it was only brief, and then she finally ceased in her shivering. Her eyes blinked, and she gave one, final sigh.

“Are you done then, fair one?” I was not going to force her to satisfy me if I had truly exhausted her.

She turned her head to look at me. Her pink eyes gazed for a moment into mine. “I thought I was the one in charge this time?” she said quietly. I felt my pulse quicken at that. I guess she was not done yet. I gave a slow, steady nod.

“Yes. If you - until you tire of this, I am yours tonight.” My voice, my words, were soft. But I couldn't keep the anticipation out of my voice. Or the trembles from my legs.

She looked at me for a while, her eyes steady, and she seemed all ready to begin again ... before she slumped. “I cannot,” she said, with a term of resignation. “I am exhausted. If you want more you will have to wait your own turn.”

I let out a soft chuckle. “Don't feel bad. I am - as you have no doubt guessed at this point - enhanced physically. I thoroughly enjoyed this though.” It had been very, very good. And if she had been able to ride it out a little longer, I probably would have cum hard inside of her. But I couldn't blame her - two back to back orgasms before she actually even slid onto me had probably had her extremely sensitive before we had even begun the final act.

I reached out and stroked her hair away from her face and laughed softly. “Rest, and recover. When you're ready we can either continue, or - I did promise to show you how to drain animals of blood.”

“Sorry,” she whispered, “I would have once championed you but … maybe one day. My powers are slowly returning.”

I tilted my head to one side. Championed me? It must be a term that meant something different for her - to me, that meant that she was offering to fight my battles, and I did not need that. I chuckled, confused.

“I - I offer more sex or training, and you offer to fight my battles? Dear Vixen, I think something has been lost in translation.” I laughed and moved, scooping her up and carrying her over to the bed roll. I laid her down in it, then laid beside her, curling one of my arms under her head to serve as a pillow.

“Championed,” she murmured. “Sorry. It's a Hernsford term. To champion is to best someone. To outdo them. To be a champion over them. It's used as a term for sex, slavery, many things.” She closed her eyes. “Tomorrow I … yes if you could teach me. I want to return back to the place I was taken originally. It … should not be that far a gallop from here. Maybe three hours or so. My … weapons. Unless I … start my whole life again. Maybe I do that now.” There was a pause.

“I will not go,” she seemed to decide, and she relaxed into my arm. “I will start again with nothing.” I chuckled and shook my head.
“Not, perhaps, with nothing. I have a bit of time to spare - and I already promised to teach you how to drain animals. I do believe we can work a bit more training in, if you desire it, fair one.” Look at me, ladies. I'm actively offering my help to someone. I blinked in shock at that thought. Everyone I had formed any kind of a connection with, since Philomel kidnapped me, was a woman. And with this, three of the four had engaged in some level of sexual activity with me - though I was still fairly certain the faun would kill me rather than try to sleep with me again. Ah well, I'd leave her to her business relationship with Shinsou. The man knew what he was doing with the titfaun, and I did not, clearly.

“So, how about it?” I turned my silver eyes to meet her pink ones. I would concern myself with what I had clearly been wrong about later - I apparently craved sex more than I realized, but hey. Maybe that had been because of the block on my memories. Hmm. Maybe - after helping Vixen, I would… Need to return back to Alerar. I paused, breath catching in my throat when I realized I didn't think of my homeland as my home, anymore. When had that happened?

She slowly opened her eyes and turned around to look at me. Gently, she blinked, her chest rising and falling before her lips parted.

“That would … be very helpful, Fil’ayn,” she murmured. “Thank you. I only ask,” she paused and smiled at me, and though she was clearly still tired with a crease on her brow, there was still life yet. Still energy enough for her to make a mischievous grin.
“I only ask that you give me a taste of you. On one condition,” I raised one white eyebrow as I looked at her. She bit her lip briefly.

“That you surprise me with it.”

Hmm. So she wanted to go again - but didn't want to know it was coming? I thought for a moment - then a smirk twisted one corner of my mouth. I already knew exactly how I would do it. I just needed to figure out the fine details - which I could do while training her. “I think, fair one, that that is something I can accomplish. Are there -any- restrictions you wish to warn me of before? Any taboos that you will not break, perhaps? Anything that would be too painful for you to experience?” Very well. If she wanted me to take control - I would do this properly. Find her limits before we began.

“I'd only ask that it happen elsewhere. Here … we have done here. Anything else … I leave in your capable hands.” I let out a laugh at her words. Well. I could do elsewhere. I needed to find an appropriate place though - I wasn't one for fucking in a field if I knew it was coming.

“Alright. Deal, my fair one. Somewhere else, and as a surprise. Now - you should get some rest.” I would - endure my desire. I did it often enough anyway. This was just a bit more - tense than usual. Nothing utterly unbearable but - well. I wasn't going to push her, and that was that.

Blinking, she happily nodded, then moved back around. She pulled her legs up to her chest and closed her eyes again. She said nothing else, and soon the only thing that could be heard was the steady beat of her heart. I curled around her, coiling my long frame around hers, and pulled the blankets up over us.

The Huntsman
Exp: 1350
Gold: 169


Vixen
exp: 1144
gold: 156


Giggity, Giggity

-all rewards added-