Deceiver

Deceiver


The sky grew darker as she stood at the window. A mix of rain and ash fell from the heavens, covering the bodies scattered across the forest floor. She felt no remorse for her actions. This was the optimal hiding place to recoup her reserves and rest her weary body. Her demon companion, Ryiel, stood behind her, his aura warm against her damp skin.

“You can not hide from this war forever,” he said in his gruff voice.

“And I can not fight if you drain my life force anymore today,” Ilwen stated, flinging his observation back in his face.

She turned to the demon that held the deed to her soul. At 6-feet-tall, he wasn’t physically imposing. He was all lean muscle hidden behind flowing black robes, making his skin look more pale and sallow than normal. It was the most human form he took, strictly for her pleasure. Then again, he was not known as the “Dark Deceiver” for nothing. A mid-level demon, he had granted her powers of deception when she was only a student. But as she progressed through her studies, she found she relied on him more, and eventually, she tied herself to him permanently. She could wield great power, creating magical items and weapons from thin air. The only cost was her life force, which now was draining at a higher rate than normal.

The two stood in a hut she had created from the surrounding trees, a haven from the storm outside. As she slumped to floor, she recited one last incantation, cloaking the building from wandering eyes.

“I will never understand you,” Ryiel said, snapping his fingers to create a small flame to light the dark space. “Why do you insist on involving yourself in this useless war? You do not share their beliefs, so why do you care?”

As Ilwen lied down on the hard floor, she laughed. “I decided I had nothing better to do with my time. Plus I couldn’t turn away the amount of gold that the general was offering.”

“Gold that will do you no good if you are dead.”

She couldn’t disagree. At the moment she could barely move, she was completely defenseless. At one time she had a valid reason for joining this war, but now that it had raged on for three years, that reason was all but lost. She had joined with a team of ten other sorcerers and wizards from her school. Of the ten, she was the only one who remained, in part because of her pact with the demon. Even though he stole her life force in exchange for the use of his powers, he always made sure she stayed alive because without her, he had no reason to remain on this plane.

Ryiel’s ghostly form sat on the hardwood floor next to her. He stared at her weakened body and soul through his dark lavender eyes. He feared she might not recover from this battle. He had watched her on the field. She was valiant against the elven forces as she swung a sword twice her size effortlessly. It carried a spell she had used many times, creating a large sword that leveled anyone that got in her way with little effort on her part because the weight of the sword was equivalent to that of a feather. The entire legion carried similar items, but there was a drawback. The more injuries she received, the less effective the weapons became since they were all tied directly to her life force.

Ilwen had come up against another wizard, one who commanded the element of fire. Her shields provided little defense against elemental forces, opting instead to charge in and cut down the wizard. But that had not ended well, and as she lay on the ground burned and beaten, the weapons she had created dissipated one-by-one. The elven army then destroyed the human legion.

Ryiel had found her amongst the bodies and brought her to this place to recover. However he could not create things on this plane, so he had to wake her to make the hut where they now hid.

Suddenly Ryiel stood and marched to the opposite window, and then disappeared.

Ilwen felt his movements, but was too tired to open her eyes. “What is happening?”

The door to the hut burst open, and a half-elf warrior entered. He carried his sword in front of him, prepared for whatever might live in the hut.

Ilwen opened her eyes when she realized that the person in the hidden hut was not Ryiel. This presence was something living, and not demonic. She stared up at the armored warrior, and decided the best course was to remain silent.

The warrior walked into the hut and removed his helmet so he could quickly scan his surroundings. The gray skies outside did not provide enough light to fill all of the dark corners, and his eyes were too fried from the constant flashes of lightning and flame from the battlefield. Keeping his sword high, he carefully swept the floor with his feet. As he made a path along the northern wall, his foot grazed something that felt like a body. He nudged it again, and poised to touch it with his sword.

“First you kick me, now you want to stab me?”

The warrior jumped back, his sword at the ready. “Who is there? Show yourself!”

Ilwen sighed. She held up one finger and blew across the tip, producing a small flame.

The warrior stared down at the young woman. “Magus,” he said with disdain.

“Elf,” she returned with the same amount of scorn. “Though you are a little large for an elf, so you must be a half-breed.”

The warrior stared down at the human woman who made no attempt to protect herself. It was easy to tell which side the battle she fought for. Her red robes were either ripped or singed, leaving more skin than fabric to see. Her hair was a pool the color of blood, creating a morbid halo around her head. Even though she was covered in soot and obviously worse for wear, her ice blue eyes contained no contempt or fear.

She sized him up as well, though from her angle she couldn’t get an accurate assessment. He was indeed a half-breed, grey elf maybe. He wore the tell-tale pointed ears, narrow eyes, and beautiful features, but his form and hair was all human. He wore his black hair in a tight braid that barely came to his shoulders, and his physique could only be described as battle-hardened; thick and muscular.

“Well, since we seem to be finished with the pleasantries, you may leave,” she said, dismissing him with a slight wave of her hand.

The warrior thrust his sword at her again, pointing the tip of the blade at her open throat. “You are my enemy; I can not leave you here alive.”

She was tired of this discussion already, and desired nothing but rest. “So, you would kill a defenseless woman because she belongs to the race you abandoned?”

“Do not presume that you know anything about me!” he said, thrusting the sword closer, forcing her to lay her head on the floor to avoid the tip of his blade. “Besides, you’re a magus, you are never without defenses.”

“Regardless of what I am,” she said, scooting across the floor with one arm to prop herself up against the wall. “I still fight with honor. Can you say the same?”

Silence filled the small room while both parties waited for the other to make a move. Ilwen wanted it to be her, but she had neither the energy nor the physical strength to carry out any form of attack. She could barely lift her arms at this point. Ryiel had cut her too deep this time around, taking from her core instead of just her soul. She hadn’t realized how much she had sacrificed until she came up against the wizard.

The warrior sheathed his sword and cautiously came closer to her. Ilwen watched him carefully, remembering stories she had heard about travesties committed against women on the battlefield. She was already a demon’s slave, she’d be damned if she let a half-breed make a slave of her physical body.

He noted the distrust in her eyes as he crouched near her, his armor clamoring loudly. He also noticed that she made no move to back away from him, another hint to the state of her well-being. He held out one hand over her torso and closed his eyes as his hand began to glow. Ilwen sat quietly, not wanting to provoke the warrior. If he believed her to be a threat, she wasn’t going to prove him wrong.

“I do not sense any extensive exterior wounds,” he said, moving his glowing hand from the flesh of her torso to her head. “But, you seem empty on the inside. I can not explain it.”

Ilwen smiled at his confusion. “Well, nothing a little rest won’t fix,” she said, unsure of how to proceed.

The warrior stood and moved to the corner opposite from her. He started to remove his wet armor when they both heard voices from the outside. His hand went back to the hilt of his sword as she laughed.

“Fear not, half-breed, they can not see us,” she said, finding humor in his panic.

He watched as a regiment of battle-worn humans trekked past the small hut, none of them aware of its existence.

“We are cloaked?” he asked.

Ilwen nodded, curious as to how he had actually found the hut. “No one knows we are here, unless someone with a keen sense for the planes wanders by. Then we might have some problems.”

“Be wary of what you reveal, you know he is the enemy,” whispered Ryiel through her mind.

Ilwen snorted in response, letting her demonic companion know that the unsolicited advice was not necessary.

The warrior let his armor fall the floor with a loud clang. “Is something humorous?”

Ilwen rolled her eyes, choosing to stare at the wall rather than him. “No, half-breed, I’m just trying to remember how I got here.”

“I have a name,” he stated as he moved back to her side.

Ilwen turned to see the half-naked warrior standing over her. He had removed all of his armor as well as his chain mail, leaving him in only breeches and socks. His skin was a pale gray, not unlike Ryiel’s. But his chest and shoulders were larger than the demon’s, and both carried the scars of a true warrior. He took a seat next to her and leaned against the wall.

“Good for you, your mother must be so proud,” she said, ignoring his attempt to strike up a conversation.

Ryiel chimed in again, “You know, you can use him to heal you quicker. His life force is strong with the blood of both races.”

Ilwen closed her eyes again, choosing to tune both man and demon out. The last thing she needed right now was a man to deal with. Ryiel had told her years before that her life force could be rejuvenated through a variety of ways, including simple rest and any number of special tonics. But the easiest and most efficient path, especially on the battlefield, was to share her body with a man. The energy exuded during a simple act of passion could feed her life force for a week. But just like the magical weapons, she could easily create a new life within her body with the powers Ryiel provided, which was why she remained chaste and refused to fill her life force in that manner.

Ilwen opened her eyes again when she heard the warrior stir and sit over her again. He put his hand over her naked torso. She looked down at his glowing hand, and realized the state of her garments. The middle of her bodice was gone, showing all of her midsection. Her skirt was torn up the center, the edges singed from the wizard’s flames. Her boots were nowhere to be seen. All that was left was enough to cover the important parts, and the rest was wet and covered in soot.

“What are you doing?” Ilwen asked, suspicious of his intentions.

“I too have honor,” he said as his hand began to glow brighter.

Ilwen could feel energy fill her body, a kind of warmth replacing what the cold rain stole from her. Her toes began to get warm, and feeling returned to her hands and arms.

His face remained stern as he worked to help her. “My healing powers are limited, but when I am finished, you should be able to stand on your own. My thanks for providing shelter on this battlefield.”

Ilwen was slightly annoyed with the warrior. “You have some nerve, half-breed. Stop what you are doing and leave this instant!”

“Garek.”

“Excuse me?”

“My name is Garek,” he said, pulling his hand away from her. “Now you have no excuse, except for the apparent lack of class, to call me half-breed.”

Appalled by his insistence at calling her classless, Ilwen stood up and moved to the opposite window, away from Garek.

“You know, I think he’s your type,” laughed Ryiel in her mind.

Ilwen stomped her foot. “Shut up!” she yelled to the surrounding air. She could still hear Ryiel laughing from the next plane.

“I did not say a word,” Garek said, a hint of concern in his voice. Was this woman also mad? “Are you feeling all right, Magus?”

Ilwen grabbed the windowsill and used it as a prop. Her body was still not functional, and without something to hold onto, she would certainly fall back to the floor. With one last piece of her force, she waved her hand and created a crude mattress filled with hay. She took two steps in that general direction, and collapsed into a pair of large arms.

Garek looked down on the unconscious woman as he swept her up into his arms. Through the soot, he could see she was indeed a beautiful woman. But though she was beautiful on the outside, he had seen no soul on the inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ilwen opened her eyes to the sun’s rays invading the small hut. She moved to stretch, but found her body unwilling to obey her commands. Instead, she simply rolled over and looked up into unfamiliar silver eyes.

“Who is Ryiel?” Garek asked, curious about the name he heard her mention numerous times during her nap.

“None of your concern,” she stated, trying not to let the warrior get under her skin again.

As she adjusted her body to lie on her back, she could tell she was on the mattress that she had conjured. However, she knew she was nowhere close to it when she blacked out. Choosing to ignore the obvious answer as to how she got there, she waved her hand and tried to create a cup of water. When nothing happened, she waved her hand a second time, to no avail.

“What is it you need?” Garek asked, trying not to laugh at her obvious attempt to make something appear.

When she refused to answer, Garek shook his head and leaned over her body. Grabbing a makeshift cup from the side of the mattress, he placed it within her outstretched hand.

“Here, it has appeared.”

Ilwen could feel her anger beginning to boil, never mind that she was grateful that he could read her mind.

“I never understood sorcerers and their need to use magic for the most mundane tasks,” he said, though his observation fell on deaf ears.

Ilwen threw the cup of water at him. “You do not need to speak to me about the things you obviously do not understand. If you can not keep your lips shut, then you can leave.”

Garek wiped the water from his face, his silver eyes light with the humor of his situation. “Unfortunately, the storms have not passed, and my regiment has not returned, so I have no need to leave and brave the elements outside. Besides, I can not leave a defenseless woman behind, unprotected while she dreams of her lover. My unit would call me dishonorable.”

Before she could speak in her defense, a bolt of lightning flashed outside and thunder rolled through the heavens. A moment later the rain started its torrential downpour. That was when Ilwen had an idea. Looking down, she saw she was still dirty, covered in soot and dried blood. With one last attempt, she waved her hand from the top of her head and outward to her feet. Still nothing happened.

“Now what are you trying to accomplish?” Garek asked, curious about her intentions.

Ilwen leapt from the bed with some of the physical energy that had returned during her nap. She flung open the hut’s door, and rushed out into the storm, ignorant of any surrounding dangers. Ilwen stood in the downpour and let the water slide along her body. Her hair was soaked in a matter of moments, the heavy weight of water making it reach past her lower back. She held out her arms and let the rain wash the soot and blood away. She took her cleansed hands and wiped the water across her face. The rains did nothing for her soul, but at least her physical self felt much cleaner.

“Are you insane?” Garek yelled from the doorway, staying clear of the rainfall.

She turned her face to the heavens again when she was finished wiping the dirt from her midsection and legs. She realized that Garek was still watching her.

“He is fascinated by you,” said Ryiel, the voice in her head lower this time.

“He is male, he can not help it,” she whispered back. “He’ll survive.”

“But you won’t. You are running out of time, Ilwen.”

Inside, she knew he was right. She had no power at this point, and she was only moving around because Garek had healed her body. But now, she needed to use that body to heal her soul and bring her magic’s back to her.

“I’ll not lose you to this war,” Ryiel whispered before leaving her mind again.

Ilwen silently nodded in defeat. Content that she was as clean as she could get, she took her time walking back to the hut. Ilwen moved her hips with each step, causing the remnants of her skirt to show more of her shapely legs to the warrior waiting for her.

But Garek was unimpressed. He grabbed her arm when she was close enough and yanked her into the hut, and closed the door to reactivate the cloaking spell.

“What is your problem?” Ilwen yelled, flinging her wet hair as she turned to face him.

“First you insult me, then you start talking to yourself, and next you’re running headlong into a thunderstorm. Have you gone mad?”

Ilwen bent over and squeezed the water from her hair. Before she was finished, she was standing in a puddle of her own making.

“I had a mundane task to perform. Or is bathing something more involved where you come from? Or maybe it’s something you choose to do only once a month?”

Garek grabbed her by the arm, and forced her back against the door. “You will hold your tongue, Magus. You know nothing about me.”

Ilwen laughed at the anger in his eyes. She was glad she could annoy him as easily as he could bother her.

“Really? You are an open book from where I stand. I wish I had the choices you do. Let’s see, can I live lavishly as an elf and be waited on hand and foot, or can I actually work for a living as a human? Oh, the decision is just too hard!”

Garek’s grip tightened on her arm as he pushed his body against hers and grabbed her throat with his free hand. It appeared that he was the same height as Ryiel, and his body fit perfectly against hers. He shoved a knee between her legs, forcing her to shift her balance.

“I could kill you right now for your insolence, Magus,” he said, his tone changing back to the dark voice he used when he first entered her hut. “Do not forget we fight on different sides of the field.”

Ilwen coughed as he applied pressure to her throat. “You won’t kill me. You’ve had the opportunities, and have yet to seize them. I have nothing to fear from you.”

“I guess it depends on your perspective,” Garek said as he thrust his knee higher into the juncture between her legs. “From this side, you are very vulnerable.”

Ilwen saw her opportunity to shut him up. This man was going to heal her whether he knew it or not. She would not die this day. She would walk off of this battlefield, collect the gold she was promised, then come back to kill this smug half-breed.

Ilwen started to rub herself against his leg as the rough fabric of his breeches gave her bare folds some nice friction. Her skirt was torn in just the right way, and she would use it to her advantage. “Vulnerable, you say? From where I stand, I have all the power.”

Garek could feel her rubbing her body against his leg as her garments continued to drip. But her actions did not seem genuine. The woman had already shown her disdain for him, so why now would her feelings change?

Garek released his grip on her throat and arm, and walked away. “You are clearly disturbed, magus. Once the storm has passed, I will leave you to your machinations.”

“He is suspicious. You are trying to hard,” Ryiel whispered. “Shall I give him a push?”

Ilwen watched as Ryiel’s ghostly form appeared behind Garek, ready to possess the man who refused his servant. But Ilwen had another idea. Slowly, she removed her remaining garments. First, she pulled the wet rag of her torn shirt over her head, giving her hair a good shake as the shirt fell to the floor.

Garek turned around when he heard the garment hit the floor. The woman stood before him topless now, her breasts moving from side-to-side as she swayed her damp hair back and forth. She was indeed more voluptuous than the slight elven women he was used to.

“You have truly lost your mind,” Garek whispered, letting her know that she had his full attention. Ryiel only hovered behind him, also intrigued by her actions.

“You can call me Ilwen,” she said as she hooked her fingers on the waistband of her damaged skirt. As she slowly inched it down over her hips, she said, “I decided I didn’t want to catch a fever while hiding in wet clothing, so my only option is to remove them and let them dry appropriately.”

Garek could not turn away as her bare hips came into view. He was more surprised that this woman went into battle with no undergarments, which he discovered as her skirt fell into a pile at her feet.

No, there was nothing slight about this human woman. Her hips were nice and round and her legs were nothing but lean muscle. Suddenly he had an image of those legs wrapped around his waist as he drove the woman to climax against the door. Garek tried to shake the image free from his mind, but his body was already reacting. His erection pressed against the inside of his breeches, the rough fabric giving him the same pleasure that it had given to Ilwen.

Ilwen gave Garek a seductive smile, glad to see Ryiel’s hand on the warrior’s shoulder was giving him the proper motivation. She didn’t know what the exact image was, but the effect was apparent as she watched the warrior move against his tightening breeches.

Her voice broke through his vision. “Garek, is everything all right?”

When he opened his eyes again, the woman from his vision stood before him, her skin glowing as more lightning flashed outside. She reached forward and touched the warrior’s chest, feeling the muscles underneath move with each breath he took.

While Ilwen applied a physical touch, Ryiel was still behind Garek, now placing both hands on the warrior’s shoulders. In another vision, he could see this naked woman on her knees in front of him, taking all of him into her mouth and pulling back for one long suck while her tongue licked the underside of his cock.

“Feel him, Ilwen,” Ryiel cooed in her mind. “Taste him.”

Garek’s eyes cleared and focused again on the woman before him as her hand slid down his chest, across the planes of his stomach to brush against the front of his breeches. She cupped him gently, the feel of the fabric becoming excruciating as the pressure from her hand caused it to rub him more. Ryiel squeezed the warrior’s shoulder again, and Garek pushed against her hand and the confines of his pants.

“Please, Ilwen,” Garek whispered, his voice straining to contain his lust.

Ryiel released his grip on the warrior as Ilwen sank to her knees. The vision disappeared from Garek’s mind, but then he looked down, and saw it playing out in front of him. Her fingers toyed with the waistband of his breeches, pulling them down one slow inch at a time. Past his hips, his cock sprung forth.

“Well,” she said as she leaned forward and took a small suck of his head. “This is all human.”

Garek felt a warm vibe shoot up his spine as he watched the sorceress take all of him into her warm mouth. She let all of him slide in until his head reached the back of her throat. Only then did she apply her tongue and lick a long trail along the underside of his cock as she sucked him hard.

Ilwen’s hands crept along his hips to reach around and grab his cheeks, pulling him into her mouth again. Once, twice, three times her head bobbed, sucking and licking, each stroke longer and slower than the one before. Garek put a hand on her head, and holding her still, he pumped into her mouth. With each pump, she could feel herself becoming damp, his eagerness making her wet.

So she sucked harder until his pumps came faster and more frenzied. Ilwen let go of his ass, and cupped his sac instead. It was already so tight and heavy, and it was very warm in her hand. She fondled it gently while Garek’s pumps became more furious, his head touching the back of her throat several times over. Her sucks could no longer keep up the pace. So with one gentle squeeze of his sac, Garek exploded in her mouth, his seed sliding down the back of her throat while the excess trickled from the side of her lip.

His pumping had stopped, but Ilwen sucked until his cock stopped pulsing and all of his seed was released. Garek looked down on her and tried to pull away, but instead, she grabbed his ass again and pulled him forward. With her last swallow, she licked his cock clean, paying special attention to the tip at the end of his head.

Once she was satisfied, Ilwen let him go and his limp cock slid from her mouth. She looked up at the warrior with lustful eyes as she licked the last of his cum from her lips.

“Well done,” Ryiel laughed, breaking her mood. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Garek took a step back away from the vixen crouched before him, and pulled up his breeches. “I apologize. I do not understand what came over me. I never intended to violate you.”

Ilwen stood and walked toward him, not allowing her prey to get away. “Violate? I thought I was a willing participant. And truly, did you have a better way to spend our time in this makeshift shelter?”

Garek moved further away from her. He went to his pile of armor in the corner, and picked up the chain mail shirt.

“You are my enemy,” he stated as his slid his arms into the shirt. “For all I know, you could be setting me up.”

Without warning, Ryiel appeared in front of Garek. “You would deny yourself the pleasure of fucking your enemy? “

Garek stopped at the sight of the demon. “A demon?” Garek yelled, turning his attention back to the woman in the center of the room. “Is this the source of your power?”

Ilwen moved toward Garek, fearing what Ryiel planned for the warrior. “No, don’t!”

But it was too late. With Garek’s back turned, Ryiel stepped into his form, melding himself with the warrior and taking full possession of his body. Garek closed his eyes to the intrusion. And when he opened them again, he was no longer in control.

Ryiel simply smiled to Ilwen as he moved Garek toward her. “I will not have this half-breed deny me the pleasure of feeling you writhe against me,” said Ryiel through Garek’s mouth. “I will be the one to keep you alive with his body. This is the final pact I need to keep your soul for myself.”

Ilwen’s survivalist instinct kicked in and she ran for the door, not caring that she had no clothing to save her flesh from the storm. But Ryiel was quicker, his hand was against the door before Ilwen to pull it open. Ryiel used Garek’s strength as he forced her back against the door, holding her still with his hip against her stomach.

Ryiel removed the chain mail shirt hastily, then placed one hand against Ilwen’s naked chest and removed the breeches with his other hand. Garek’s cock was already hard again and ready to delve deep within Ilwen’s body.

Ryiel leaned forward, smelling the fear on Ilwen as he licked a trail up the side of her neck to her earlobe. He took the earlobe into his mouth, giving it a little nip before setting his lips on a conquest down the mage’s body.

“You don’t have to do this,” Ilwen said before sucking in a breath as Ryiel found her left nipple and took it into his mouth.

Ryiel hummed against the nipple, sending ripples of ecstasy through Ilwen’s body. His right hand was sent on a mission further south. His hand followed the trail between her breasts and down her soft stomach to the small patch of curls that awaited him below. His finger slipped between her nether lips, and grazed her bundle of nerves. As payment he heard Ilwen groan and her body jerk as he stroked the nerves again. He was pleased to find she was already wet when he got there.

“You will pay for this, demon,” Garek said, the words ricocheting off of Ryiel’s presence.

Ryiel only laughed with Garek’s voice as he stood before Ilwen again. He watched her face as his finger slipped past the nerves and thrust inside her wet passage. When her mouth opened to moan, Ryiel captured the moan with Garek’s mouth as he descended to kiss his servant. Both man and demon could taste her need as she pumped against him. Ryiel thrust a second finger inside and invaded her mouth with Garek’s tongue. Ilwen wrapped her arms around Garek’s shoulders, and held on tightly as he provided much needed support.

Quickly, Ryiel removed his fingers and leaned away from her wanton mouth. Ilwen leaned against the door, panting as her heart beat faster and her body shook from her unreleased desire.

“Should I take her now, half-breed?” Ryiel asked the man on the inside.

“If you do, you will regret your actions, demon.”

Ryiel grinned. In one swift motion, he grabbed Ilwen’s left leg and propped it against his hip. He gave Garek’s cock one good stroke, then plunged forward into Ilwen’s virginal passage. She moaned loudly through the pain, unprepared for the invasion into her body.

As Ryiel felt a trickle of blood slide down the cock, he felt something shift inside. He was no longer in control of Garek’s body, now only an observer instead of a participant.

Ilwen looked into Garek’s eyes, and saw the change. They were back to the silver she had seen earlier, no longer the lavender of Ryiel’s eyes. That was when she felt it, her life force. It flooded her body, her mind, and her heart.

“I see your game now, incubus,” Ryiel said, ashamed of himself for not picking up on Garek’s intentions sooner.

Garek smirked, and then he watched Ilwen as her pain subsided, ignoring Ryiel’s rants in the back of his mind. He touched her face gently with his thumb. “Are you all right to continue?”

Ilwen shifted and felt the thick cock within her body. With the pain gone, it felt very different now. She nodded to Garek.

He reached down and grabbed her other leg, holding her body against the door with his own. “Now I need you to hook your legs behind my waist. Can you do that for me?”

Ilwen smiled, wrapping her feet together as instructed, and in turn, pulling Garek deeper into her body. She moaned at the sensation of the warrior inside of her. Garek let go of her body, leaning with both arms against the door and used only his hips now. Ilwen held on to his neck as he slid away. When only his head remained, Garek thrust forward again and let her sheath accept him again.

Burrowed deep within her body, Garek looked at Ilwen again, and smiled. She leaned down and kissed him, allowing his tongue to sweep into her mouth while his cock moved slowly in and out of her body. And as her body got used to the motions, Garek began to speed up.

Ilwen squeezed him tighter as he grabbed her ass with one hand, holding her steady as his shaft thrust up again harder. Ilwen moaned into his mouth as the pumps became more frenzied, and she felt something inside of her building, something tightening in her lower stomach. She did not understand what was happening, but each time their bodies met, she felt like something was about to give.

That was when Garek stopped. He was already breathing hard, and his legs were starting to hurt. Ilwen squirmed against him, and squeezed his cock with her inner walls.

She watched him as he held onto her body by her ass, and backed the two of them away from door. Eyeing the crude mattress, he moved the couple to it, and leaned down to let go of Ilwen. His rigid cock slid out of her body, and Ilwen did not enjoy the emptiness it left behind.

“Roll over,” Garek said as he continued to ignore Ryiel’s instruction about sexual positions. “Your hands and knees will do nicely.”

Ilwen just looked at him, but then followed as he instructed. She didn’t understand why he wanted her on all fours until she felt his fingers probing her lips again.

“Ahh, there it is,” he said as he stroked his cock and put the tip to her entrance. “Ready to try something different?”

Ilwen looked over her shoulder to the warrior about to mount her. Before she could respond, Garek grabbed her hips and pulled himself deep within her core again. Ilwen moaned, finding the change of position more agreeable. With his hands on her hips, he used her body to stroke his cock. She grew more wet with each stroke and with each slap of his body against her ass, she moaned louder.

Garek grunted with each thrust. Her body gripped him tighter. Ilwen’s arms were getting tired from the constant pounding, and the top half of her body just sunk to the mattress, thrusting her ass higher in the air.

They could both feel their release coming. In this position, Garek was stroking something very satisfying within her body, and with one thrust in particular, Ilwen felt something give. She groaned through it, the feeling of letting go too pleasurable to voice in words.

Garek smiled as he felt the rush of her release around his cock. He slowed for a moment, giving her body a chance to come down before his own finishing act.

As her breathing slowed, he gripped her ass tighter and pumped her hard. Her passage was so tight and slick now that he had no trouble finishing the job. It only took a few more slaps of their sweaty bodies for Garek to release his seed again, flooding her body with himself. He threw his head back and yelled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Garek stood over the sorceress as she slept on the hay mattress. Beside him stood two other elven warriors and one priest awaiting his report about his mission.

“Was the mission successful?” asked the priest as he removed his cape and draped it over the naked girl.

Garek nodded. “Her pact with the demon has been broken. The dark deceiver known as Ryiel now belongs to us.”

Comfortable that the situation was under control, the two additional warriors left the hut to rejoin their ranks. The priest also turned to leave, but stopped when he noticed that Garek was not following.

“You are concerned for her?” he asked.

Garek nodded, not sure how to express what he was feeling for the girl.

“She will live a full life now,” he explained. “You have saved her from an early death at the hands of a demon that deceives his prey with great power, and then steals their life force as payment.”

“Yes, but who really deceived who today?” Garek asked, realizing the irony of the situation.

“It is of no consequence. All parties will be free in the end.”

“And what do we do with the demon? Even now he screams and rages within my mind.”

“Once he is extracted, your contract with us is finished. Since he is the last demon we need for the great sacrifice, this war will end soon. Both sides will go back to their peaceful ways, and you may seek out the former sorceress who will bear your first child.”

Garek stood in silence as the priest left the hut, his revelation hanging heavy in the stuffy air. As he headed for the door, he thought he heard Ilwen stir and whisper his name in her sleep.

“Wait for me,” he whispered in return. “We will meet again.”


Yeah, not really sure where this story came from, but it demanded to get put onto paper. I hope you all enjoyed!