smut

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I can still see Marcus’s face when he found me under that table. [[What happened last night was a mistake.]] [[I wish I could have the face painted.]]

\<<set $mistake to true>> I don’t know what came over me. No, I know. But I hate the result all the same. Marcus’s face was of sheer terror and disgust and I can’t help but to grimace at myself, at my actions. It was too much. Yes, he did deserve it and would deserve so much more, but the act tainted me in the process. What’s done is done. [[Continue|pec_door]]

That sweet, sweet terror on his face is something I’ve waited for a long time to see. No more of that smugness, no more self-satisfied grinning, just sheer terror spiced with a healthy dose of disgust. No painter would be able to bring it alive, it’s not enough. Maybe a sculpture? Something I can see from different angles. Yes. That might work. [[Continue|pec_door]]

I stop at the door to my room. There’s something on my bed, something you can’t possibly miss. A bouquet of red roses. I know exactly who sent this and– Pec looks at me with his brows raised to his hairline. But there's a mischievous grin on his face all the same. “Who did you fuck this time?” he asks. [[Feign innocence.]] [[Tell him the truth. Legate’s influence is enough to keep me safe.]]

“No one, thank you very much.” Pec gives me a doubtful look. “If you're not a slut, then why did the Legate’s messenger bring you two dozens of roses?” I merely shrug at the question. How should I know? “Maybe he fancies me?” I offer. “You?” He gives me a quick look over before glancing at the roses. “Probable. So, you didn’t fuck him?” “No.” He looks extremely disappointed by the news. And it's unclear if he even believes me. The proof lies on the bed in the shape of roses. [[Continue|legate_scroll]]

There’s a little scroll wrapped up in the bouquet. It reads, “You’re invited to my villa. Please arrive at your earliest convenience.” \<<if $mistake is true>> I almost groan at the text. Gods, what have I gotten myself into? \<<else>> I smile at the text. Good. The plot thickens. <</if>>\ “What does it say?” Pec asks, peeking over my shoulder. \<<if $pec_truth is true>> “That I’m invited to his villa.” Pec gasps like it’s the juiciest thing he’s heard this month. Or the entire half a year. “By the gods,” he says as he grabs my tunic. “Please tell me everything afterwards. I’ll be here waiting with a cup of wine.” “I didn’t realize you were such a slut for gossip.” He just grins at the accusation. “Go live my dreams, my hero, and tell me all about it.” \<<else>> “Hey! None of your business.” He groans. “Oh, please. Don’t start acting coy now, you slut.” “Stop calling me that,” I say with a grimace and smack him on the head with the scroll. However, it does little damage. It’s a small scroll with little information. <</if>> [[I guess it's time to see the Legate.|seethelegate]]

Who’d dare to flog the Legate’s lover? Wait. Hold that thought. Am I the Legate’s lover now? Oh no. No. Yes? [[No. Absolutely not.|legate_bignope]] [[I don’t see why not.|legate_whynot]]

Why should I tell him the truth, then? Gods, this impulsiveness will be the death of me. “I’ve fucked no one, thank you very much.” Pec gives me a doubtful look. “If you're not a slut, then why did the Legate’s messenger bring you two dozens of roses?” I merely shrug at the question. How should I know? “Maybe he fancies me?” I offer. “You?” He gives me a quick look over before glancing at the roses. “Probable. So, you didn’t fuck him?” “No.” He looks extremely disappointed by the news. And it's unclear if he even believes me. The proof lies on the bed in the shape of roses. [[Continue|legate_scroll]]

\<<set $pec_truth to true>> \<<if $mistake is true>> Even if what happened was a mistake, I might as well mess around with Pec a little. \<<else>> It might bring me some perks in the long run. But, honestly, Marcus’s horrified face is enough to keep my soul fed for ages to come. <</if>>\ So, I straighten my back and say, “They’re from the Legate.” Pec’s eyes widen. “You… Fucked the Legate?” Floyd enters the room just as Pec utters out the sentence. He quickly turns on his heels and leaves. I nod. “No need to be so crass about it, but yes. I did.” Pec’s silence is deafening. He doesn’t move, he just stares at me with his mouth agape. Finally, he bursts into a wide smile. “You absolute stallion!” “What–” He smacks my back. “You slut!” “Hey now–” Another smack. “And I mean that in the best way possible. But man…” He looks at me with newly found admiration in his gaze. Am I living his dream right now? [[His joy is infectious.|pec_joy]] [['"Uh, thank you?"'|pec_thanks?]] [['“Please let go of me and stop calling me a slut.”'|pec_pleaseno]]

I give him a small grin. “Maybe it is kind of a big deal.” “Maybe? You’re fucking the most influential man in the province!” “Stop calling it fucking but yes, I guess I am.” [[Continue|legate_scroll]]

“You’re welcome.” He looks at me, clearly not knowing what to say. Not because of my less-than-enthusiastic words, but because he’s brimming with excitement himself. “I mean.” He clears his throat. “Not a fan of the big man myself but I can see the appeal. It’s the status, the big dick energy.” “The what now?” “Anyway…” [[Continue|legate_scroll]]

He quickly obeys but my words don’t manage to wipe the grin out of his face. It’s like it’s stuck there. No amount of unenthusiastic words can wipe it off now. [[Continue|legate_scroll]]

I clear my throat as I look at the guards. They’re clearly expecting me, for they open the doors without another word. \<<if $mistake is true>> What am I doing here? Do I want Marcus to be there again or what’s the end goal? Do I even have one? Am I supposed to start dating the old guy now? I wander the villa before a slave tells me that he’s waiting for me in his study. I take a deep breath and enter the room. <<else>> I track my steps from the last time I was here. They’re ingrained in my memory. The guest room. The kitchen. A slave tells me that the Legate is waiting for me in his study. I straighten my back and enter the room. <</if>>\ And here he is. Sitting on his couch with a scroll in his lap. The amber-colored tunic compliments his olive skin. He wears his greying hair with care and confidence. I remember thinking that he wears the muscular armor to hide his fat belly. Now, since I’ve got to experience his body quite in close proximity, I can safely say that the belly is quite regular. When I was sucking his– “Hati, you’re here,” he says with a wide smile. If he’s thinking the same as I am, he’s not letting it show. But there’s a mischievous gleam in his gaze and I catch him quickly skimming my body as I enter the room. He throws the scroll on the floor without a care about its financial or literary value, something that would make Marcus flinch in physical pain. \<<if $mistake is true>> Why am I thinking of Marcus right now? The sight of his disgusted face makes me all but shrink to myself. The look on my face makes him halt his step. “Oh no, don’t let your pretty face droop like that.” “Excuse me, my Lord?” He walks to me with a smile on his face. It’s unreadable, confusing. Then, his fingers touch my chin. “How can I make you smile?” he asks. \<<else>> The thought makes me smile. I should ask this man to manhandle his scrolls some more, preferably when Marcus is watching. “Such a pretty smile,” he says as he walks up to me. Boldly, he holds my chin with a carefree smile. After what happened, he thinks he can touch me freely. “You should smile more,” he all but orders me. I let him hold me. Just to humor him. I raise my chin, accepting his rough fingers to rest there. “What if I don’t feel like it, my Lord?” I ask. Calling him by his title makes the encounter all the more titillating. “I can give you many reasons to smile,” he answers in a murmur, putting some pressure on my chin. He’s pretty suave for an old man. I like it. <</if>> [[“What about Marcus?”|legate_marcus?]]

He takes a step back. “What about the boy?” He’s playing coy and buying time. He had to have known that the topic would come up. I say, “He was pretty devastated when he realized I was underneath that table.” “Well…” He pours something in his goblet. Without asking, he gives me a cup of my own. “I thought you were friends, not lovers,” he says. “It did look like you’re something more.” “Hm.” I sip the drink. Diluted wine. The taste of wine is really mild, it’s a drink of a man who doesn’t have a need to dull his senses. Unlike his wife. [[“He thinks we are. He wants it.”|legate_marcuswants]] [['"We're complicated."'|legate_complicated]]

I’m not sure if it’s the truth but it sounds like one. There’s a part of Marcus who must think we share something intimate. That I hold the leash of his regret. “But not you?” Legate’s voice is low as he retreats to lean against his desk. “No,” I say with a small smile. “I don’t think we could be anything more than complicated.” He looks pleased with the information. [[Continue|legate_steptowards]]

No truer words have been uttered in this study. “So, not lovers?” His voice is low as he retreats to lean against his desk. It’s unclear if he actually cares for hurting Marcus’s feelings, or if he just wants to appear that he cares. “No. Not even close.” He looks pleased with the information. [[Continue|legate_steptowards]]

I take a step towards him, taking another sip of the drink. In the past, maybe I would’ve thought that the drink was spiked. Now, however, I know that I’m in control. I wonder if he’s in the habit of inviting soldiers to his study. Something about the way he squeezes his desk tells me that he’s not. Interesting. \<<if $mistake is true>> Am I really doing this? Something about him lures me in. <</if>>\ “Should I ask about you and Camilla, my Lord?” He slightly raises his brows at my boldness of calling his wife by her first name. But he must’ve already accepted my barbaric lack of decorum, for he seems mostly unbothered by it. Maybe that’s one of the reasons he even likes me. “My wife has the tendency to insult me on a daily basis,” he says. The admission is accompanied with a small, self-deprecating laugh as he shifts his weight from his desk back to his feet. He regrets his words. “She runs the taverns in the night. She must have her fair share of lovers.” He looks away. Another set of words he regrets, he couldn’t stop himself from speaking now that he has a willing set of ears to listen. And it’s no wonder he regrets it. It makes him look emasculated, to not be able to control his wife like that. Something the Romans hate with their very core. But something about me made him admit it. [['”You're pathetic.”'|legate_pathetic]] [['“You deserve better.”'|legate_deserve]]

\<<set $legate_pathetic to true>> I grab his chin and force him to look at me. I want him to know that even a lowly soldier like me thinks exactly what he fears people see when they look at him. Terror creeps into his gaze. Terror of being seen for what he really is. Then, it’s replaced by anger. “I’m not,” he says. He straightens his back. He really wants me to believe it. He really wants to believe it himself. “Show me that you’re not,” I demand him. [[Continue|legate_grab]]

I take another step towards him, even give him a small smile. I’m not sure if I mean it but he believes that I do. He so desperately wants to believe. He looks at me like he’s been waiting for someone to say those words to him for a long time. “She makes you look like a little man,” I say, my voice but a whisper in the neat study. My words light up anger within his gaze. The brazier keeps the shivers of winter at bay. “Show me who you really are.” [[Continue|legate_grab]]

He grabs my shoulders and pushes me against the desk with my face down against the wood. He yanks my pants down, baring my ass to the dry air. My breath hitches as my naked skin is pressed against the cold wood, and when he cups my butt cheeks with his rough palms. A loud smack rings through the room when he slaps my tender flesh. “I’ll show you,” he promises me. He dives for my bare neck and kisses my skin. His touch is surprisingly tender, despite the anger that still lingers in his voice, in his touch. Bitterness could make him bite down on my flesh but he refrains himself from hurting me. He wants to make me feel pleasure, not pain. His scent is clean, his breath warm and almost comforting. It’s almost jarring, my mind protests. This is the man who– The tip of his already hard cock pushes against my naked skin, interrupting my thoughts. He spreads the precum on my skin, savoring the moment, taking his time. He’s a man of wealth, time is of abundance for him. A deep, satisfied sigh carries to my ears when he brushes my skin with his member. He hasn’t done this in a long time. He wants to savor every moment. Then, a sound of an object opening with a pop. A bottle. The scent of olive oil creeps into my nostrils. He leans against my back again, diving in for my neck. There, he whispers, “Are you already hard for me?” He doesn’t check to see. Is he afraid that I’m not? <<if $legate_pathetic is true>> [['“What did I tell you about being pathetic?”']] <<else>> [[Guide his hand to my hard cock.]] <</if>>

He takes an excited breath when I guide his hand onto my cock. It pulses against the desk. I gasp for air when he gives it a gentle squeeze, as if making sure that it is actually hard, that I’m ready for him, willing to feel his touch. I can almost feel his smile against my hair, his relieved exhale against my back. “I’m sorry,” he says. I don’t know why. “Don’t be,” I whisper. He should be. He should be sorry and I’ll never forgive– His cock against my ass silences the voices. He starts pushing his lubed cock inside me slowly. He’s gentle and careful with his movements, letting me ease into his touch, letting me get comfortable with the size of his cock. I hesitantly smile at the thought. At the feeling of his cock easing in. Even if it feels comfortable, there’s something wrong about his touch, about the way he takes care of me. It’s against everything I thought I knew about him. It shouldn’t be like this. He should be a cruel man, as cruel as he was when he– His fingers wrap around my cock. “What a handsome cock you have,” he whispers against my ear, interrupting my thoughts. I let out a small moan at the compliment. [[Continue|lubed_butt]]

He grunts in annoyance. He’s used to being told off, to have his needs questioned and ridiculed. But I can’t help it. I want him to feel bad. A smile spreads across my face and I’m happy he can’t see it. He holds his breath and slowly guides his hand to feel my hard cock, pulsing against the desk. He takes an excited breath. He likes how my cock feels against his hand. “So slow,” I reprimand him. With another annoyed grunt, he squeezes my cock to remind me who’s in control. But it’s not him. The pain just makes me let out a laugh. And it annoys him. Laughter makes him feel small and insignificant. Like the little man he is. He starts pushing his lubed cock inside me slowly and carefully, despite my mocking words. It’s almost annoying what a gentle lover he is. How he refuses to hurt me. He lets me ease into his touch, letting me get comfortable with the size of his cock. And it annoys me. I start thrusting myself against him, demanding him to pick up the speed or I’ll do it for him. I don’t want him to be gentle. I want him to hurt me like he did before, like the evil man that he is. But he denies me the right to adjust the tempo. He holds my hips firmly, he’s the one in charge and he wants me to be comfortable even if I firmly refuse. I throw the scrolls off his desk in frustration. Black ink slowly spreads across all of his important documents. Seeing it makes me smile. I dare him to punish me. But all he does is to lean in and chuckle against my ear. “You’re a brat, aren’t you?” I groan as an answer. Nothing gets through to him. [[Continue|lubed_butt]]

Then, when he deems me relaxed and my ass being properly lubed, he starts to pick up the speed. With a needy growl, he takes a better hold of my hips and starts pounding his cock into me. The desk tries to move with the rhythm of his thrusts. He bends down, grabbing my hard member, making me groan. I hold onto the desk and let him take me, accepting the momentary loss of control. His thrusts are steady and eager to please, his groans filled with carnal pleasure. He doesn’t care who hears, all he wants is to please me. Finally, when his grunts become more desperate and irregular, he starts pumping my cock. “Please, cum, I can’t hold it in anymore,” he wheezes against my ear. The sound of him pleading me to come before he does makes me bite my lip in defiance. A part of me wants to hold it in but– With a low moan, I let myself melt against him. Let myself come. He groans gratefully at the sound, immediately after pumping his hot cum inside me. He stays there for a while, on top of me, squeezing me against the desk. \<<if $legate_pathetic is true>> “That’s enough,” I order him to regain control of the situation. Obediently enough, he gets up with a small smile on his face. He looks like he wants to ask if the experience was good for me but thankfully, he decides against it. \<<else>> I let him stay there for a while, to let myself feel his weight on top of me. It’s something I never thought to experience. Because– I quickly shake him off, making him get up with a questioning smile. I don’t dare to look at him, not immediately. I need to collect my thoughts. <</if>>\ I look at the desk. It is sticky with my cum but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t even spare a glance at it. He has people to clean it up for him. Instead, he looks at me like he just gained a new breath of life in his life. He looks at me like I matter to him. It almost makes me want to look away. He caresses my cheek with a gentle smile on his face. “Thank you,” he simply says. [[“Am I your boy toy now?” I ask to lighten the air.]] [[Remain silent.|legate_silent]]

He chuckles heartily. “If you want to call yourself that.” He brushes a strand of sweaty hair out of my forehead. “But I don’t think of you as a toy.” The sincerity in his voice is unsettling. He’s wielding it like a greatsword against my shield of emotional distance. [[Continue|legate_clearthroat]]

There is no need to define our relationship. It’s as complicated as it is with his son. \<<if $mistake is true>> I almost grimace at the thought of Marcus. I had sex with his dad again. At least this time he’s not here to make a big scene out of it. \<<else>> I almost laugh at the thought. Here I am, making an even bigger mess of things than it already was. <</if>> [[Continue|legate_clearthroat]]

I clear my throat. “Won’t this be a problem?” I ask. “No, no one will touch you. Only your…” He lets out an awkward laugh and looks at the mosaic floor. “Manliness might be in question.” “Because I took it in the ass?” I offer helpfully. No manly man would ever be willing to bend their behind to another man. A light hue of redness spreads to the tips of his ears. “Yes. Might be for the best not to tell others.” “Stop sending me bouquets of roses, then,” I say with a grin. “Right, sure, I–” He clears his throat. “Yes. I will stop that.” [[“Until next time.” I leave.|legate_leave]] [[Kiss him on his cheek.|legate_kiss]]

\<<if $mistake is true>> I quickly kill off the grin that spread across my face. It happened again. The mistake. I turn on my heels and close the door, stifling the urge to slam it shut. He doesn’t have the time to ask me if I will find my way back to the front door, I’m already almost running. \<<else>> Now that that’s taken care of, I might as well leave. I don’t need to act sweet with him. He knows he’s lucky to be fucking me. With that, I close the door behind me even before he has the time to ask me if I find my way back to the door. I will. I know my way around. The thought makes me smile. <</if>> [[Continue|legate_pec]]

I smile when he raises his brows as I take a step closer to him. He doesn’t flee, he doesn’t need to. Not yet, at least. The scent of his cleanliness is overcome by the scent of his sweat. And mine. And the smell of cum and oil still lingering in the air. I give him a small kiss on his cheek. It’s a little coarse from a lazy day of shaving. “See you later,” I say. “Yes,” he sighs in agreement. Joy makes the agreement light and airy. [[Continue|legate_pec]]

Pec waits for me at the entrance of our room. He smiles at me knowingly, clearly eager to hear everything. “Well?” [['"I'm now officially his slut, yes."']] [['"A gentleman doesn’t tell,” I say with a small smile."']] [['“No comment.”']]

He starts excitedly clapping his hands like a little seal. “I knew it!” He grabs my shoulder and starts guiding me somewhere. “Where are we going?” I ask. “To the tavern!” he exclaims while still holding me hostage by the shoulder. “But–” “No buts, you will tell me everything.” “Why is this slightly threatening?” “Because I’m bored, Hati, my life is dull and yours is not. The least you can do is to share every little detail with your friend.” “Every little detail? Like every thrust and–” “If it comes to that, I won’t complain.” “You’re a nasty little man, aren’t you?” He nods in agreement.

He groans at my coy comment. “When did you become a gentleman?” “When you started being a little creep and asking too many questions.” “I’m not a creep! My life is just boring.” He sighs dramatically. “Fine, don’t tell. Want to grab a drink?” “Fine,” I say. “You’ll just try to coax me with alcohol to tell you?” He grins. “Caught me.”

He gives me a disappointed look. “Really? Nothing?” he asks, just to be sure. “No. You will spread rumors like those workers at the local laundry, I do not trust you.” He pouts, deeply offended. But he doesn’t exactly deny my claims, either.

Where am I? My breath hitches as I look around the unfamiliar room. I’m naked, constrained in a bent position on a table with my bare ass up. My sluggish mind starts racing as the panic takes over. Then, I sense another person in the room with me. With that, words follow, “Don’t panic, druid.” Camilla. Hearing her relaxes my muscles, but only a little. For her words ring awfully cruel despite their intent of soothing me. Her cold smile rings through her words. “You are in my basement.” Her steps ring through the room, I can’t move my head enough to see her. She lets her sharp nails run lightly across my naked back as she takes her time, enjoying herself. It’s a feather-light caress with a threat of bloodletting. “You were drunk out of your mind.” She comes into view with a joyless smile on her face. Her brown hair is tied into a small bun, her tunic is similar to what she wears for her tavern fights and other physical activities. She’s in her work uniform. [["Why am I naked?"]]

At least I have shoes on, that’s a small grace. The cold floor won’t get to me. “You know why,” she says. No, I really don’t. When I close my eyes and try to focus on what happened before, there’s only darkness. And nausea. My head is foggy and slow, there are pieces missing. More than usual, that is. The thought fills me with some dread. What did I do to deserve this? A nearby brazier provides my skin with some warmth and comfort with its flames as I contemplate on my fate. Camilla raises her brow. “You claim ignorance? ‘I’m going to fuck the Legate’s wife’ doesn’t ring any bells?” My blood runs cold. Did I drink too much and end up shouting that? That doesn’t sound like me. Does it? [[Maybe it sounds a little familiar.]] [[No, I've been framed.]]

Maybe those words could’ve come out of my mouth but would I actually shout it out loud? …Maybe. Possibly. If someone asked about it. And if I was drunk enough. Camilla taps me on my nose. Then, while still smiling, she scratches my skin like a cat. The pain is sudden, stabbing, and eases up to a throbbing dull ache. She drew the first blood for the night. “Mm-hm.” She hums as she looks at the drop of blood forming in the open wound she caused. “It’s not enough that you’re playing with your life,” she says as she runs her finger on my cheeks, her claws still bloodthirsty. “You’re dragging me into it.” She sinks her index finger’s nail deep into my skin. Too deep, almost making me wince. It doesn’t draw blood. This time. [[I start to struggle, trying to break free out of my chains.]] [["I'm sorry," I whine. "Please let me go."]] [[I won't show any weakness.]]

“I would never say that! Who told you?” “Hmm? You claim innocence?” Camilla taps me on my nose. Then, while still smiling, she scratches my skin like a cat. The pain is sudden, stabbing, and eases up to a throbbing dull ache. She drew the first blood for the night. “What the–” “There were witnesses, you piece of shit.” She snarls, the cold smile dying in an instant. “You think me a lunatic, chaining you here without proper proof?” “No, I…” Fine. Maybe it happened. But it doesn’t mean that I deserve to be here, constrained like a prisoner. [[I start to struggle, trying to break free out of my chains.]] [["I'm sorry," I whine. "Please let me go."]] [[I won't show any weakness.]]

“Camilla, this isn’t funny. Let me go now!” The chains against my naked skin are cold and hostile, scraping my struggling flesh. She gives me a small, lopsided smile. “This isn’t supposed to be funny, you idiot. You will suffer for what you did.” I can’t get out. The chains aren’t there for the show. I can’t actually get out. “What are you going to do to me?” Concern creeps into my voice. How could it not? She gives me a look of content. She’s happy that I finally resigned to my fate. [[Continue|camilla_sigh]]

She sighs. “I almost wish I could. I’ve grown somewhat fond of you.” She gives my cheek a light caress, this time with her claws protracted. The touch is almost gentle. “But actions have consequences.” She leans back with a small, almost apologizing smile on her face. As if she doesn’t want to do this. “You need to brace yourself for what’s to come, little druid.” “What do you–” [[Continue|camilla_sigh]]

I steel my face and refuse to react. She has the upper hand, yes, but that doesn’t mean that I should play by her rules. She tilts her head slightly at my stubbornness. Then, she leans toward me with a small smile on her face. Her tone is almost sweet as she says, “I will enjoy breaking you.” She runs her fingers on my back again, this time with her claws protracted. Her caress sends shivers down my spine. She lightly taps on my bare ass. “You’re too cocky, I hate it.” [[Continue|camilla_sigh]]

She sighs almost theatrically. She’s having fun with the situation despite the fact that the anger in her tone is still evident. “Thankfully, it seems that your friends didn’t think you were actually serious,” she says. “But you didn’t know that before you started boasting about my tight pussy, huh?” I wish I could move my hands, I really feel like rubbing my face right now. Did I actually– “I should have you flogged for what you’ve done, you piece of shit.” She smiles. “But that’s boring, predictable.” She leans in with a wide, cat-like smile. “This, however, is perfect. I like seeing you like this.” [[I am seriously concerned.]] [[Oh, nice. We're playing.]] [["No, please." Play along.]]

“Camilla,” I say, trashing my head, trying to flee from her words. “Are you serious? I’m going to–” “Going to what?” She snaps before meeting my gaze. Her eyes soften just for a moment. “Do you remember what we talked about?” she asks. About what? Then, the memory of us in the cellar rushes to me. She told me that there’s a word if I should feel bad about our games. Is this another game? Relief washes over me. Yes. This is all a play. She’s not actually going to violate me without my will. Did I actually think she would? In my defense, she’s a mean woman with a questionable past. She is angry and most definitely mean, but she wouldn’t actually hurt me if I said the word. When she sees that I’ve understood the rules of our play, her gaze hardens again. Comfort is out of the question for tonight. No more will be given unless I want to end the game prematurely. She will unleash her wrath upon my skin and flesh. And it does sound like I deserve it. [[Continue|camilla_whip]]

I can’t help but let a small grin spread across my face. The thought of– She slaps me. She slaps me right across my face. I almost wince and complain, but manage to hold it all in. “Too hard?” she asks. “I can take it.” She nods approvingly. The nod almost makes me feel foolish pride. “You deserve it,” she reminds me. I think I do. But I might still be a brat about it. [[Continue|camilla_whip]]

I know this is all a game. And slowly, despite the uncomfortable and vulnerable position–or perhaps because of it–I’m starting to feel a little excited. “You will do as you’re told,” she says as she puts a strand of hair behind my ear. Her touch makes shivers run down my spine. It’s gentle enough, but the fresh wound on my nose reminds me that things could change in an instant. [[Continue|camilla_whip]]

She disappears from my line of vision. I can’t see, nor hear, what she’s doing. Her steps are light as a feather, she knows how to walk without a sound. She knows her torture techniques. Just as I’m about to wonder, she whips me on my ass. Hard. The sound of my beaten flesh rings through the small room, along with my stifled complaint of pain. She walks back to the view with a whip in her hand. “Did I hear a complaint?” [["Yes. It hurt."|camilla_hurt]] [["No."|camilla_nopehurt]]

She smiles. The smile almost seems a genuine one, like she’s absolutely delighted by the news of my pain. “Good.” She disappears again, but I sense her near me. Contemplating on whipping me again. I tense my muscles and prepare myself. “Look at you, squeezing your butt like that.” Another lash. \<<if $sex is "male">> The pain sends a jolt of pleasure down on my cock, making it twitch against the wooden bench I’m tied in. I almost moan at the sensation. \<<else>> The pain sends a jolt of pleasure down my stomach and my groin. I almost moan at the sensation. <</if>>\ Camilla's hand caresses my back, giving me some comfort before the coming pain. “Adorable.” [[Another lash.]]

I quickly shake my head, feigning innocence. “I was just surprised.” “Oh,” she says, tilting her head slightly. “I will have to hit harder.” “No! I mean–” She gives me a bright smile, almost comically so for her usually scowling face. She’s enjoying herself far too much. She disappears again, but I sense her near me. Contemplating on whipping me again. I tense my muscles and prepare myself. “Look at you, squeezing your butt like that.” Another lash. \<<if $sex is "male">> The pain sends a jolt of pleasure down on my cock, making it twitch against the wooden bench I’m tied in. I almost moan at the sensation. \<<else>> The pain sends a jolt of pleasure down my stomach and my groin. I almost moan at the sensation. <</if>>\ Camilla's hand caresses my back, giving me some comfort before the coming pain. “Adorable.” [[Another lash.]]

Two. Three. I bite my lip to keep myself from crying out. She’s not applying as much strength in the whipping as she could. She’s merciful, after all. After the third lash, her hand lands on my hair, caressing it. “Do you want me to stop?” she asks. She knows I don’t. Maybe it’s because I know I deserve this. Maybe it’s because of the throbbing desire in my groin, aching every time she unleashes her fury on me. She gives me a smile. “Good. Brace yourself.” With these ominous words, she disappears from my line of vision. Then, silence. She’s not next to me anymore, and I can’t sense her in the room. I take a deep breath and try to make myself comfortable. Then, I hear her. She steps out into the light with a wooden erect cock sticking out of her hips. It’s held together by straps of leather. Her upper body is still covered by her tunic, but her athletic legs are proudly bare. She helpfully turns so I can see the thing on her hips from every direction. Her sculpted ass is framed by the leather constraints. She gives me an almost sweet smile when I look at the thing with my eyes widened. “I had this made for you,” she all but purrs. “I knew you’d do something bad sooner or later.” “You’re going to fuck me with it?” I ask, having never seen such a thing in my life. What else would she be doing with it? Give my back a gentle caress? “Yes,” she says. “And you will like it.” \<<if $sex is "male">> She whispers in my ear, “Is your ass still a virgin, boy?” [["Yes."|virginmale]] [["No."|nonvirgin]] \<<else>> She whispers in my ear, “Is your ass still a virgin, girl?” [["Yes."|virginfem]] [["No."|nonvirgin]] <</if>>

The thought fills me with some dread. That is not something I’ve partaken in my life. Not something I thought that I would. But here I am, with my ass up and with Camilla waiting to enter me with her cock. She smiles at my words. “How cute.” I bite my lip, a sense of worry threatening to take over me. “Does the thought fill you with worry?” she asks. “A little,” I admit. She bites my ear lightly, making me breathe in quickly. “Don’t worry your pretty little head,” she purrs. “I’ll take care of you.” She lets my hands free. I sigh in relief, shaking them, thankful for the relief. My feet are still bound, but at least this is an improvement. A small gift from her before she fucks me. She moves a chair behind me. That’s right, she’s a short lady. Maybe a little joke is in order before she buggers me? [[Yes.|yesjoke]] [[Absolutely not. She will murder my ass if I say anything.]]

She smiles at my words. “How cute.” I bite my lip, a sense of worry threatening to take over me. “Does it worry you?” she asks. “A little,” I admit. She bites my ear lightly, making me breathe in quickly. “Don’t worry your pretty little head,” she purrs. “I’ll take care of you.” She lets my hands free. I sigh in relief, shaking them, thankful for the relief. My feet are still bound, but at least this is an improvement. A small gift from her before she fucks me. She moves a chair behind me. That’s right, she’s a short lady. Maybe a little joke is in order before she buggers me? [[Yes.|yesjoke]] [[Absolutely not. She will murder my ass if I say anything.]]

I grin at the thought. “Gods, you’re such a slut,” she mutters and slaps my ass on the way as she walks off. She lets my hands free. I sigh in relief, shaking them, thankful for the relief. My feet are still bound, but at least this is an improvement. A small gift from her before she fucks me. She moves a chair behind me. That’s right, she’s a short lady. Maybe a little joke is in order before she buggers me? [[Yes.|yesjoke]] [[Absolutely not. She will murder my ass if I say anything.]]

I’ve never been the one to hold my tongue, why should I start now? “I almost forgot that you’re the size of a gnome,” I say, stifling my snickering. Did I expect a slap on my ass, or her calling me a piece of shit? Maybe. But none of those things happen. Instead, the silence is deafening. She doesn’t move, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she lets me wait for the punishment that I know is coming. Then, the pressure of the wooden cock pushing through my anus makes me yelp in pain. “Where’s the lube?!” “Gnomes don’t lube their cocks,” she says. “They really should,” I complain. She grunts in annoyance and the scent of olive oil reaches my nose. Thank the Twins. But before I can thank them any longer, her lubed finger enters my anus. It takes a moment to get used to the feeling of her inside me. A moment that I’m not granted. Once she deems my ass properly lubed up, she starts pushing her wooden cock inside me. [[Complain.|camillacomplain]] [[Don't complain.|camilladontcomplain]]

Foolish I may be for getting myself into this situation in the first place, but I’m not going to make the situation even worse. If I said something, she’d just violate my butt as revenge. I’m not going to give her the excuse. She slaps my ass lightly, filling the small room with the sound. “Now, this will hurt,” she says as a promise. “Does it have to?” I ask. “Maybe not, if you can relax your little butt properly.” She caresses my ass cheeks, spreading them, apparently inspecting my hole. The feeling of nakedness is almost humiliating, but there’s something exciting about the thought of her seeing every bit of me. I take a breath and focus on her touch, which isn’t as cruel as it was earlier. Her ire has somewhat subsided. “It’s entirely up to you,” she continues. The scent of olive oil fills the air. It’s not entirely up to me, she will make sure that the experience doesn’t hurt me. She’ll take care of me. Then, my breath hitches when her lubed finger enters my anus. It takes a moment to get used to the feeling of her inside me. A moment that I’m not granted. Once she deems my ass properly lubed up, she starts pushing her wooden cock inside me. [[Complain.|camillacomplain]] [[Don't complain.|camilladontcomplain]]

“It hurts,” I whine. “Stop whining and relax.” “But it’s hard…” She sighs and slows down her movement, taking her time, making me get used to the thing inside me. [["I always wanted to violate your ass," she says as she caresses my skin.]]

I bite my lip and focus on relaxing myself. She slides inside me quickly enough, without much difficulty. “You’re taking it like a professional,” she compliments me. “Why, thank you.” “Like the dirty little slut you are.” Indeed. [["I always wanted to violate your ass," she says as she caresses my skin.]]

“That’s concerning,” I say. “I’d say that’s love at first sight.” I chuckle at the words. Right. Then, my breath hitches as she clearly prepares herself. Slowly, surely, she starts moving her wooden cock inside me. Her thrusts are controlled and curious, the situation is new to her. Then, her thrusts gain more vigor. She starts fucking me without mercy. Her nails dig deep inside my hips, giving her thrusts more power. I grab the bench with my freed hands, trying to keep up with the movement, with the sensation of the hard cock inside me. “Rub yourself,” she commands, giving my ass a smack in between the thrusts. I squeeze my freed hand in between myself and the bench, but there's barely any room. She lifts my ass so my hand fits better. \<<if $sex is "male">> “Rub your cock, you little slut.” I moan at the force in her voice, at the sensation of being fucked by her. Obeying her command, I grab my cock and give it a squeeze, my body shivering with pleasure. \<<else>> “Rub your clit, you little slut.” I moan at the force in her voice, at the sensation of being fucked by her. Obeying her command, I touch my clit, my body shivering with pleasure. <</if>> My touch accompanied with the thrusts proves too much for my body to take. I’m so near the climax that I’m almost seeing stars. [[But I know better than to come without permission.]]

“Please, mistress, may I come?” She smacks my ass. “Have you deserved it?” “No,” I admit. “You may come,” she says, a smile ringing through her tone. She thrusts deeper, commanding me to obey her. \<<if $sex is "female">> I touch my clit, and that’s the last straw that sends me over the edge. \<<else>> I give my cock one last squeeze, and that’s the last straw that sends me over the edge. <</if>>\ A wave of pleasure crashes down on me. Camilla caresses my skin as she waits for the tremors of my orgasm to leave me. Then, she gives my ass one last slap and pulls the cock out of me. She walks to my face with her cock contraption still hanging from her hips. “Did you like it?” she asks. [["Not sure."|camilla_notsure]] [["Yes."|camillalike]] [["Stop slapping me like a piece of meat."|camillanoslap]]

Yes, I might still be struggling to see straight after my climax, but I have my doubts over whether or not I want to keep seeing her like this. “But you moaned like a little slut?” she says, or asks. “I’m not sure if losing my ability to move like that is my thing. Or the pain. I’m not sure.” “Or me fucking your ass?” “That part was fine.” She starts laughing. “Good.” She pinches my cheek before freeing my legs out of their constraints. With a sigh of relief, I stretch my limbs. I look at my skin. It looks irritated by the bondage. Camilla takes my hand and places a small kiss on the bruising of my wrist. “Is your ass alright?” she asks. “You need to kiss it better.” She snorts out a laugh.

She gives me a little grin. “I knew it. You moaned like a little slut.” I nod. I guess I did. She pinches my cheek before freeing my legs out of their constraints. With a sigh of relief, I stretch my limbs. I look at my skin. It looks irritated by the bondage. Camilla takes my hand and places a small kiss on the bruising of my wrist. “Is your ass alright?” she asks. “You need to kiss it better.” She snorts out a laugh.

She grins at my words. “You don’t like it?” She is smiling and grinning way too much for my liking. It’s as if my pain brings her genuine happiness. "No." I flinch, waiting for the next slap to land on my cheek. But, instead, she frees my legs out of their constraints. With a sigh of relief, I stretch my limbs. I look at my skin. It looks irritated by the bondage. Camilla takes my hand and places a small kiss on the bruising of my wrist. “Is your ass alright?” she asks. “You need to kiss it better.” She snorts out a laugh.

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// FOR SETTING STATS THAT NEED TO BE IN PLAY AT THE START OF THE STORY <<set $firstname = "Eleanor">> <<set $lastname = "Dashwood">> <<set $nickname = "Ellie">>

<div class="main"> <nav> <<link "Resume Game">><<run Save.autosave.load()>><</link>> <<link "Load Game">><<run UI.saves();>><</link>> </nav> <div class="story-banner"> <div class="content">  <h1 class="story-title">Defiled Hearts</h1>  <i class="fab fa-pagelines"></i>  <h2 class="story-subtitle">Patreon Smut</h2> <span>✦</span>  <h3 class="story-author">By <a href="#"></a>Haley Mattos</h3> </div> </div> <nav> <<link "New Game" "Nimetön kappale">><</link>> <<link "Settings">><<run UI.settings();>><</link>> </nav> </div> <div class="credit">✦ Template by <a href="https://outoftheblue-if.tumblr.com" target="_blank">Vahnya</a> ✦</div>

!!!Marcus x (toxic) Hati The scent of spring grazes my nostrils as I walk past another bush in full bloom. The roaring river beside me, too, is freed of its icy shell. The promise of summer disappears along with the receding sun, bringing with it the resilient remnants of winter. “Are you coming up with poems about the sunset?” A mocking voice yanks my attention to the present time, no matter how much I would not care to let it happen. It’s one of the worst aspects of being on a foraging trip with that idiot, you have to see his face from time to time. Marcus gives me a grin. “Shouldn’t I ask you about that?” I counter-attack. “I wouldn’t make poems about sunsets.” “Oh, right. Your poems are the dirty kind.” “You haven’t even seen them. What if I write about love and holding hands?” I don’t even give him a frown as an answer. He jumps over a rock and gives me another grin. He’s in a good mood for whatever reason. “I write about you,” he says. I scoff and focus on my step. The hill is steep. “Don’t you want to know what kind?” [["Curse poems?"]] [[“I hope they involve me killing you.”]] [[“Do you want to know about my daydreams?”]]

<h1>Defiled Hearts: The Barbarian</h1>  <i class="fab fa-pagelines"></i>  <h2>Patreon Smut</h2>

<div class="story-banner"> <div class="content">  <h1 class="story-title">Defiled Hearts The Barbarian</h1>  <i class="fas fa-broom"></i>  <h2 class="story-subtitle">Patreon Smut</h2> <span>✦</span>  <h3 class="story-author">By <a href="#"></a>Haley Mattos</h3> </div> </div>

!!! Checkbox: <<checkbox "$checkboxVar1" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 1 <<checkbox "$checkboxVar2" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 2 <<checkbox "$checkboxVar3" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 3 !!! Cycle: <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</cycle>> !!! Listbox: <<listbox "$listboxVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</listbox>> !!! Radiobutton: <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 1" autocheck>> Option 1 <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 2" autocheck>> Option 2 <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 3" autocheck>> Option 3 !!! Textarea: <<textarea "$textareaVar" "Type text here..">> !!! Textbox: <<textbox "$textboxVar" "Type answer here">> <<button "Autosave" "Autosave">><</button>>

<<notify>>Autosave complete!<</notify>> This passage autosaves, and the next time the game opens the player will be able to resume from here.

Content warning: In these scenarios, your Hati feels comfortable about their genitalia and other sex specific body parts being touched and/or penetrated. You cannot choose your gender (it's not referenced in the scenario) but you can choose your sex (your set of genitalia). This is content meant for 18+ audience. By proceeding, you are agreeing you are of age. What's your name? <<textbox "$name" "Hati" [[Sex?]]>>

What is your sex? (Please note that you can't choose your sex for Niall's forest scenario, Camilla's wine cellar scenario, or for the Legate's sequel scenario.) [[Male.|who?][$sex to "male"]] [[Female.|who?][$sex to "female"]]

“Why would I want to curse you?” He gasps in mockery. “I’ve written your name on a couple of curse tablets.” “You’ve gotten yourself used to Roman curse customs? How nice.” I shrug. “I figured to double my chances, one of the curses ought to get you.” He laughs and continues to lead the way without a care in the world. I look at his hair, it should start falling any week now. [["Shit!"]]

“Why would I write poems like that?” I shrug. “If you want to make me happy, that is.” He tilts his head. “And the thought of killing me makes you happy? I thought we were past that.” “We’re past that once you’re dead and buried.” He grins. [["Shit!"]]

He raises his brow. “Oh? Do they involve me dying?” That’s a good guess. However, not this time. “No,” I say, ready to tease him right back at him. “They involve you pinned against a wall.” “How on earth did I end up there?” He snickers. “I–” [["Shit!"]]

Something huge, white, and feathery flies at me and I lose balance. I fall into the river as the swan who collided with me flies away while honking wildly. “Fuck!” Marcus shouts after me. I gasp for air and inhale icy water. Shit. I try to swim to the shore but can’t move. My leg is stuck. “Stay there!” Marcus shouts. I try to yell at him, to say that he’s an idiot for saying that. Of course I’m going to stay here: if I were able to move, wouldn’t I have done so already? But, I can’t shout these things at him. Water splashes into my mouth and I’m barely able to keep my head above water. Just when I’m about to curse that swan into the depths of the Underworld, the stones that have my leg move. It’s just enough that I can wiggle my foot freely. I blink and see Marcus’s drenched, determined face looking at me. His arm circles around my chest and starts guiding me to the shore. [[Continue]]

Marcus helps me back up onto the dry land, his breathing uneven and his teeth chattering with mine. I’m drenched. It’s cold. “We’re fucked,” Marcus says the thing we’re both thinking. He’s naked, he took the time to undress before jumping after me. Quickly enough, he puts his tunic on, grabs his belongings, and leaves. He doesn’t spare me a look before he takes off. I’m left alone and shivering. Despite my stiff limbs, I manage to sit up. I look after Marcus but there’s not a trace of him. [[Where did he go?]]

[[I knew that he would leave me. The fucker.]] [[I’m worried.]] [[I trust him. He’s coming back.]]

I didn’t expect to die like this. I expected a more dramatic ending to our relationship. I expected to die in a swordfight, or kill him and go home. This, however, is just pathetic. To die alone in the cold. Left alone by that fucker. [["Missed me?"]]

“Marcus?” I try to yell after him but nothing but a hoarse, pathetic cry comes out. There’s no answer. He’s already long gone. My already rattled breathing quickens. He left me. Tears of frustration start to gather in the corners of my eyes. I should’ve known that I couldn't trust him. I need to get up and get back to the fort. [["Missed me?"]]

He might be an idiot but he wouldn’t leave me here. Besides, he said that ‘we’re fucked’. That must mean that he’s coming back. Unless, of course, he wanted to be fucked in a different location. No. I trust him. He’s coming back. I frown at the thought. Why would I trust him? [["Missed me?"]]

Marcus asks me, his breath labored but still he gives me a small grin. I feel happier to see his face than I ever would’ve thought possible. However, his grin and his light words make me want to smack him. This shouldn't be the place for that. I'm too cold. The dangers of hypothermia linger at the back of my mind. Without a warning and with a straight face, he picks me up and starts running to where he came from. I blink at the events. They’re unfolding too fast for my sluggish brain to realize. In any other circumstance, I would’ve berated him for picking me up like this. Now, however… I’m cold. He carries me into a nearby cave where there is already a fireplace lit and roaring. I can’t stop shivering. Still working in silence, Marcus stops tending to the fire and turns to me. There’s a frown on his face. I try to ask about our plan but nothing but the chatter of my teeth comes out. Hearing it makes his frown grow even deeper. Then, without a word, he starts stripping me. [["Get your hands off me!"]] [[Fight back.]] [[Let him do what he wants.]]

I try to shout, but nothing comes out. However, he must’ve realized that I’m not content with the situation, since he sighs. “Bear with me.” [[His hands work with certainty.]]

I try to swing my fist at him but I can barely move my hand. He lets out a cold chuckle. “Bear with me, little fighter.” [[His hands work with certainty.]]

I’m too tired to fight back, I’m barely able to even recognize what he’s doing. “You’ll be warm soon enough.” [[His hands work with certainty.]]

And quickly enough, I’m completely naked. Then, he undresses. I barely take notice of the state of his nakedness, there’s only the feeling of gratefulness when he takes me into his arms. He’s warm. He wraps the both of us into his cloak. I don’t have the will nor the energy to think about anything else but his warm skin against mine. It’s almost hot. It’s like hugging a furnace. I close my eyes and hug the furnace more tightly, afraid that it will leave me to the cold if I let go. My mind drifts asleep. [[Continue.|Continue1]]

I wake up, warm and cozy, and more relaxed than I’ve felt in a long time. It takes a moment to realize where I am. There's only the knowledge that it's warm. There's a part of me fighting the urge to know more, it just wants to go back to sleep. “Good morning, sunshine,” a familiar voice says, its tone relaxed and amused. Blood stands still. I open my eyes to look at Marcus next to me. No, not next to me. His naked body is completely intertwined with my own. And he looks like it’s the most normal thing in the world. His face is too close to mine. No. Closer than that. So close that I— “Don’t move,” he murmurs. “It’s still cold.” The feeling of his whole body against me makes me forget to breathe. His chest hair scrapes my skin when I dare to move. Then, his cock twitches against my lower abdomen. It's just a small movement but only too noticeable when his body is glued against me. My eyes widen as I dart my gaze to look at him, to make him explain his actions. To accuse him. The light from the dying fireplace reveals nothing from his expression. [[Remain still. This is not wise.]] [[To my horror, I feel my body answer with excitement.]]

I freeze. He stays completely still, too. Finally, he leans closer to me and the urge to slap him is overcome by terror. “You feel kind of warm already,” he mutters against my hair. “Why do you insist on staying there?” “What? You told me to!” “When have you ever listened to me?” “Agh!” I shout and get up. I stomp away to my clothes and start putting them on with vengeance. “Nice ass,” he comments with a clear grin ringing through his words. I throw a lump of coal at him and he laughs.

<<if $sex is "male">> I squeeze my eyes shut when I realize that my cock grows against him. It touches his limp dick, making heat rush to my whole body. No. His growing erection twitches against mine, this time with more vigor. Shit. <</if>> <<if $sex is "female">> Pressure builds up in my pussy, making my eyes widen in shock. Heat rushes to my whole body and I look away, fearful that he would notice my state of arousal. His cock twitches against me, this time with more vigor. Shit. <</if>> ‘Why?’ is the only question lingering at the back of my mind. Why do I imagine his muscles hard and tense against me as he thrusts into me? Why do I wonder what he tastes like? After everything he's done to me, this is what my body wants? It’s sickening. And it’s all his fault. [[Continue|Continue2]]

<<if $sex is "male">> My cock is now completely hard against him, it’s pulsing with need and hatred against him. <</if>> <<if $sex is "female">> My pussy is wet, it’s dripping with need and pulsing with hatred against him. <</if>> Finally, I grab his cock and give it an angry squeeze. When he doesn't react, I give it another. After another squeeze of his clearly wanting cock, he laughs. He just... laughs. He mocks me. “What?” I hiss at him. Then, with a lopsided grin, he asks: “What do you think you’re doing?” “What do you mean?” His grin dies and the words he says are clear and solemn: “I killed your family.” And I let go of him. He looks away, his cock still standing firm against me. Confusion stirs in my head. I hate him, I hate what he did, but I still want him. And he makes it feel like it’s wrong. He makes this hard for me. It’s all his fault. “Don’t you dare make me feel like I’m the one in the wrong,” I hiss at him and grab his cock again. This time, however, I squeeze too hard, making him groan in pain. I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t care. The feeling of glee overcomes me now that I got a reaction out of him. I try to squeeze him again but this time he’s ready: he seizes my arms and rolls me over. He pushes his whole weight on me, pinning my hands on the ground, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks again as darkness devours his gaze. [[“Just fuck me already.”]]

<<if $sex is "male">> The confusion on his face is overcome by darkness. In one quick motion, he opens my legs and moves himself in between. A feeling of vulnerability threatens to take over me as I watch him: the man who I used to fear is positioning his erected cock at the entrance of my ass. I take a shaky breath, and he notices it. Nothing goes past him. The gaze he gives me is oddly tender, it carries a sense of vulnerability with it, like he’s unsure of himself. And of me. [[Continue.|male]] <</if>> <<if $sex is "female">> The confusion on his face is overcome by darkness. In one quick motion, he opens my legs and moves himself in between. A feeling of vulnerability threatens to take over me as I watch him: the man who I used to fear is positioning his erected cock at the entrance of my pussy. I take a deep breath, and he notices it. The gaze he gives me is oddly tender, it carries a sense of vulnerability with it, like he’s unsure of himself. And of me. And the look infuriates me to no end. He asks me if I’m sure. How could I ever be? But, just as I’m about to tell him off, he shakes his head and shuts my mouth roughly with his palm, leaning close to my ear. “If you want this, you need to shut up for a moment." His low voice enters my mind, making my body stiffen in anticipation. He gives me a smug smile and slides his finger into me. It goes in easily. [["So wet."|female]] <</if>>

He lets out a disbelieving laugh. “I was going to ask if you’re sure but this speaks for itself.” I grunt in annoyance but nothing but muffled voices come through the cracks of his rough fingers. “You little shit,” he says, still laughing. Then, two more fingers enter me. “They glide in so easily. Are you used to getting a good pounding?” He murmurs next to my ear. He even frees my mouth to let me tell him the answer. [[Spit on him.]] [["Shut up and fuck me."]] [["Yes. Your father pounds me nicely."]]

And the look infuriates me to no end. He asks me if I’m sure. How could I ever be? But, just as I’m about to tell him off, he shakes his head and shuts my mouth roughly with his palm, leaning close to my ear. “If you want this, you need to shut up for a moment." His low voice enters my mind, making my body stiffen in anticipation. He gives me a smug smile, and reaches for something in the darkness. I can’t see what it is, but I can hear a flask opening. [[Then, a wet finger enters me.]]

Partly to suppress the sound of my orgasm, partly to inflict pain on him, I bury my teeth into his shoulder. A grunt of pain leaves him but instead of shoving me off, he holds my body closer to him. “Fucking piece of shit,” he grunts in my ear and starts pumping me even harder. My loud moans are muffled by his flesh. Finally, I let his shoulder go, and he starts slowing down. He looks down at me, his features still irritated. There's a clear bitemark on his shoulder. I smile at the sight of it. He, in turn, pushes his cock into me roughly, making me cry out. "Serves you right, you little shit," he mutters. [[Continue|Continue3]]

A pathetic-sounding whimper leaves me as my body starts to wither below him. I hate myself for the sound of it, I hate the fact that I let myself be this vulnerable with him, but still I find myself pressing his body even closer to mine. I want to feel him deeper inside me. His cock twitches inside me and a part of me fears that he's going to come. Another part finds the thought intriguing. Shit. No. No. But still I grab his ass cheeks and try to bury himself deeper inside. He gives me a lopsided smile. “What a cute little shit you are.” “Screw–” ‘You,’ I want to continue but he shuts my mouth again and gives me a grin. “Hush now. Enjoy your orgasm." The grin turns smugger, if that's even possible. "Enjoy the orgasm that I gave you.” I want to smack him but my body refuses to listen. [[Continue|Continue3]]

As I lie there underneath him, catching my breath, wanting to hurt him for his smugness but being unable to move, trying to make sense of what happened, how I ended up here of all places, why it all happened, Marcus looks at me. He gives me a genuine-looking smile. One that appears almost tender. Then, he slams his cock into my tender pussy, making me cry out. Reveling in the reaction, he gives me a quick smile before quickening the tempo. His balls slam against me, and wet sounds fill the cave as he fucks me harder and harder, his breathing becoming more laborious. “I’m coming,” he growls as his fingers tighten on my thighs. [[Laugh and try to make him come inside me.]] [[“Don’t come inside me.”]]

While laughing, I grab his ass and prevent him from leaving. “What the fuck?” He groans and I feel his cock twitch inside me. Just in time, he pulls off and shoots his warm seed all over my stomach. He looks at me, his gaze still fuzzy from the orgasm. “What the–?” He rubs his face. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you want my children?” I just laugh. The whole situation is so absurd that I can’t even say anything. Maybe I would’ve drank some contraceptive tea, maybe not. Perhaps the ultimate revenge would be to make him father my children. I would love the shit out of those little buggers, just to spite him. "You are insane," he mutters as he wipes his load off my stomach with his cloak. "I must be. For fucking you." I must have given half my brain to the Romans when I conscripted. "I'll say." Marcus shakes his head. The whole brain. [[Continue|Continue4]]

But, before I can say it, his cock is already out. Marcus looks at me like an animal, his gaze dark and his lips distorted into a sneer, he wanks himself and, finally, groans as warm seed shoots onto my abdomen. “Fuck,” he murmurs as he gives himself two more strokes. He takes his cloak and wipes his load off my stomach. I wonder if anyone will ask about the weird stain on his cloak, one that looks awfully lot like semen. "Won't someone ask about it?" He just snickers as an answer. [[Continue|Continue4]]

He slumps next to me, his chest still rising and falling quickly. I lie on my back, looking at the ceiling, questioning the state of my mental state. I suppose he’s doing the same when he turns to look at me. Silence falls between us, silence filled with uncertainty. “Are you feeling–” he finally starts. [[“We will never talk about this.”]] [[“Am I feeling alright?”]]

I quickly get up, needing to get away from him, away from the warmth I almost yearn after. I look at the dying fire, ignoring his gaze on me. A shiver runs through me as I start searching for my clothes. Finally, he says: “Fine.” My clothes are dry. We can leave. “Nice ass,” he says and I throw a lump of burnt out coal at him.

No. The answer is no. I feel satisfied but not alright. And he doesn’t look like it either. Once the lust starts fading away, his gaze is unsure. And I fear that his gaze mirrors mine. There are so many questions, so many implications, so many voices analyzing what happened. The one on top of them all, the loudest one, is questioning my sanity. “Let’s not talk about this,” I say to ignore it all. He nods. “Nothing happened.” I get up, only to feel a little horrified by the thought that a part of me already misses his weight on me. His warmth against me. No. My clothes are dry. We can leave. “Nice ass,” he says and I throw a lump of burnt out coal at him.

“Does that feel alright?” he asks me. I grunt in annoyance but nothing but muffled voices come through the cracks of his rough fingers. “Is your little ass used to getting a good pounding?” He presses his whole weight onto me and frees my mouth. My throbbing cock is squeezed underneath him, and I sneak in to give it a little stroke. I let out moan, and the neediness of the sound makes me flush in embarrassment. I shouldn't let him hear that. He grins when he notices it. "You like that, huh?" [[Spit on him.|spitmale]] [["Fuck you."|fuckmale]] [["I like it when your father fucks me in the ass, too.".|bratmale]]

He shrugs and looks away. “Don’t tell me you carry olive oil around? Just in case?” “Shut up.” “You do!” Marcus throws my tunic on my face. “Just shut up and put your clothes on.” “Just in case there are sex emergencies?” He throws my trousers at me.

Anger mixed with arousal makes me bury my fingers deep into the muscles of his ass. He starts pumping into me. Quicker and quicker. "You like that, huh?" His husky voice fills my mind, his weight on me all too pleasing. His thumb finds my clit, making me moan even louder. I barely notice him looking at me, my mind hazy, and filled with the need to orgasm. “You’re fucking lovely,” he growls and I can’t control it anymore. [[Bite his shoulder.]] [[Whimper.]]

He lets out a little laugh. "You little shit. Now you're in trouble." He takes his fingers off of me and thrusts his cock deep inside me in one single motion. It goes in too easily, I'm so wet that it almost makes me ashamed of myself. I just want him to pump into me and make me forget that I shouldn't do this. [[Continue|orgasm]]

"You little shit." He grins. "Now you're in trouble." Not the reaction I hoped for. Or was it? He soaks his finger in my spit and puts another digit inside me. "We're going to open you up nicely. Am I such a–" He squeezes another finger inside. "–such a good man? I care about your ass." I aim another spit at him but it misses. [[Continue|assup]]

"Fuck you," I say, dearly hoping that he would heed my command. "Shut up and fuck me." He mockingly gasps. "Such dirty words you spout out." "I swear to the Twins—" "You don't need to resort to blasphemy, my angry little kitten. I will fuck you." [[Continue|assup]]

"Shut up and fuck me." He mockingly gasps. "Such dirty words you spout out." "I swear to the Twins—" "You don't need to resort to blasphemy, my angry little kitten. I will fuck you." He takes his fingers off of me and gives me an annoyingly meaningful look. "You want this, huh?" He strokes his dick. "Don't make me say it." "What if I want to hear it?" "No." "Too bad..." He snickers and places himself at the entrance. I hold my breath. And he enters me. Slowly. Almost tenderly. Making sure it doesn't hurt. Too slow. "Just do me already," I command him. He chuckles. "Fine, fine." And he shoves his cock into me roughly. It goes in too easily, I'm so wet that it almost makes me ashamed of myself. I just want him to pump into me and make me forget that I shouldn't do this. [[Continue|orgasm]]

Confusion makes him tilt his head at me. "My father?" He lets out a disappointed groan. "Why would you make me think of my father in the middle of this?" Then, he chuckles and, without a warning, he takes his fingers out and thrusts his firm cock deep inside me in one single motion. I moan, embarrassingly loudly. "You little cunt. Of course you'd let him fuck you, too." I give him a little nod to annoy him further. "Uh-huh." He starts pumping into me, his gaze dark and filled with lust. "Do you like the way my father fucks you?" "Yes. I love it so much." "You dirty little cunt." [[Continue|orgasm]]

Confusion makes him tilt his head at me. "My father?" He lets out a disappointed groan. "Why would you make me think of my father in the middle of this?" Then, he chuckles and, without a warning, he grabs my cock. "You little cunt. Of course you'd let him fuck you, too." He strokes my cock roughly. "Do you like the way my father fucks you?" "Yes," I groan as he wanks me. "You dirty little cunt." [[Continue|assup]]

I whimper pathetically as I start shooting my load onto Marcus's cloak. The sound makes me cringe and I bury my face in his scent, trying to ignore everything else but the pulsating pleasure of my cock. "Fuck," Marcus grunts and grabs my ass cheeks tighter. One more hasty thrust and the feeling of getting filled up with his seed just enforces my own pleasure. Another grunt, and he lumps on top of me. He lies there for a while, his weight on me almost bringing me comfort, his pants mimicking my rhythm. It's almost too intimate, like I shouldn't. Like I should just shove him off of me and leave. But I don't want to. Not just yet. Finally, Marcus pulls his limp cock out of me. I can faintly hear a little snicker. Annoyance flashes through me. "Did you just happen to have olive oil with you?" [[I ask to distract him.|lube?]]

"Fucking asshole," I snarl as I start shooting my load onto Marcus's cloak. Anger makes the pressure in my cock even more pronounced. I bite his cloak and groan. "Fuck," Marcus grunts and grabs my ass cheeks tighter. One more hasty thrust and the feeling of getting filled up with his seed just enforces my own pleasure. Another grunt, and he lumps on top of me. He lies there for a while, his weight on me almost bringing me comfort, his pants mimicking my rhythm. It's almost too intimate, like I shouldn't. I give him a light shove and he quickly gets off. I can faintly hear a little snicker. Annoyance flashes through me. "Did you just happen to have olive oil with you?" [[I ask to distract him.|lube?]]

He flips me on my stomach. "Lift your ass for me," he growls. [[Obey him.]] [["Lift it yourself, old man."]]

Instinctively, I do as he says, offering my ass to him. A part of me hates how easily I accepted his commands. I can imagine him grinning at me at this very moment. "So obedient." I can hear his amused murmur. Screw this. I lower my ass and try to wiggle away from him just to spite him, but he grabs my hips. "No, don't go anywhere. I'm sorry for commending your obedience." He doesn't sound sorry. As I'm trying to decide if I should just call the whole thing off, leans down to my ear and whispers: "I'm sorry, $name. I think you're a good pet." "Pet?" "Will you let me fondle your ass a little?" His husky voice asks. It sounds more pleading than I expected. Like he's actually afraid that I'd turn him down. "Fine," I grunt. He slaps my ass. "Splendid!" [[Continue|pumping]]

Sure, he's not that old. But it'll annoy him. "Old man?" He barks out a laugh. He grabs my hips and lifts me up, his touch rough. He leans down to my ear and whispers: "You bratty little shit. Can't even give your ass without a hassle." "Does that annoy you?" "You wish." He slaps my ass. "You wish, you little cunt." He sounds annoyed. Mission accomplished. [[Continue|pumping]]

And before I can regret my life decisions, he chuckles at his own words and, without another word, starts easing his cock inside me. He groans as he gets past the sphincter. The feeling of getting filled up by him is making my cock painfully hard. With a groan, he presses his whole weight onto me. "Fuck you feel good." He starts pumping into me. Slowly, at first. So slow that one would think that he cares if I hurt or not. Finally, after I tell him to speed things up, he starts quickening his tempo. His balls slam against me, and wet sounds fill the cave as he fucks me harder and harder, his breathing becoming more laborious. “I’m coming,” he growls as his fingers tighten on my thighs. [[Whimper.|malewhimper]] [[Insult him.]]

\<<if $sex is "male">> \<<set $he to "he"; $him to "him"; $his to "his"; $himself to "himself"; $He to "He"; $Him to "Him"; $His to "His">> <</if>>\ \<<if $sex is "female">> <<set $he to "she"; $him to "her"; $his to "her"; $himself to "herself"; $He to "She"; $Him to "Her"; $His to "Her">> <</if>>Whose scenario would you like to read? [[Marcus's (the cave scenario)|Toxic Marcus]] [[Marcus's (the library scenario)|Poetry with Marcus]] [[Quinn's sleepy smut|Sleepy Quinn]] [[Niall's forest smut|Dagger Niall]] [[Legate's desk scenario|legate]] [[Camilla's cellar smut|Camilla Cellar]] [[Tinsae's temple smut|Tinsae Temple]] [[The Holiday smut (feat. Marcus and Niall)|threesome]] [[Quinn's bondage smut|Bondage with Quinn]] [[Cernunnos's monster smut]] [[Niall's bondage smut|Niall's bondage]] [[A trip with Tinsae|Tinsae's trip]] [[Camilla's revenge (feat. the Legate)]] [[A date with Marcus]] [[In a closet with Niall]] [[A date with a drunk Quinn|quinn?]] [[Samhain with Camilla and Tinsae]] [[Angry Cernunnos]] [[Marcus and Quinn scenario]] [[Legate sequel|legate_sequel]] [[Camilla's punishment|dom_camilla]]

Is Quinn a man or a woman? [[A man.|whodat][$quinn_sex to "male"]] [[A woman.|whodat][$quinn_sex to "female"]]

All I can see is the top of their head. There is no passion or love in their movements, there’s only the methodical need to pleasure. The white hair shines in the darkness unnaturally brightly. Or is anything truly unnatural in a dream world? No matter the case, I want to see their face, I want to know who it is. But, try as I might, I can’t move my hands to touch them. //does it matter?// The voice in my head asks. Of course it does. //please// [[Give into it.]] [[Try to push them away.]]

The word ‘please’ rings in my mind all too familiarly: it’s like a tight, sudden hug from a lover in the darkness. It makes me want to forget about the turmoil tainting my heart when I look at the ash-white hair. Fine. After a moment of hesitation, I close my eyes and surrender. Do your worst. Please me. I try to relax and ignore the dread trying to make me move away from the stranger. However, fear flashes through my heart every time they squeeze my thighs with their icy fingers. I look down. The person is gone and there’s nothing but darkness in their stead. Darkness that’s left behind devours my abdomen. Blackness pulses in my veins like lead, going up and up to destroy my heart. I try to scream but nothing comes out. [[Someone calls my name.]]

The voice in my head sounds like nothing I’ve ever heard before. It barely sounds like a human. I must wake up. //please// //stay// No. Let me go! I try to push them away but they won’t move. Instead, my hands glue on their shoulders. Then, I can only watch as their arms grow in length, their hands creeping like snakes to caress my cheeks. //love// I try to scream but nothing comes out. [[Someone calls my name.]]

<<if $quinn_sex is "male">> <<set $q_he to "he"; $q_him to "him"; $q_his to "his"; $q_himself to "himself"; $q_He to "He"; $q_Him to "Him"; $q_His to "His">> <</if>> <<if $quinn_sex is "female">> <<set $q_he to "she"; $q_him to "her"; $q_his to "her"; $q_himself to "herself"; $q_He to "She"; $q_Him to "Her"; $q_His to "Her">> <</if>> <<if $sex is "male">> There’s someone sucking my dick. <</if>> <<if $sex is "female">> There’s someone licking my pussy. <</if>> [[And I don't know who it is.]]

A muffled cry of pain rings through the room as my fist lands straight into the stranger’s soft cheek. The lament sounds awfully familiar. “Really?” They whisper, their voice hoarse with pain but still amused, more so than it was before. “Of course that would be your gut reaction, you maniac.” I lower my hand when I recognize the voice. [["Quinn?"]]

“Bri–!” But the stranger’s hands quickly block my mouth. “Brick? Really?” The voice reprimands me for my choice. “What about the old do-gooder? Flood? Fleck? Fl–” The mocking, carefree voice keeps guessing what Floyd’s name is. In my defense, Brick would do the most damage. He hates being woken up in the middle of the night. However, it’s all too clear to whom the voice belongs. [["Quinn?"]]

Something makes me stay down, a sense of familiarity cuts through my mind, erasing all sense of dread that had taken over me. Their hands soothe my frame like a jug of warm mead during the reign of the Veiled One. My slowly relaxing senses start to make sense of the person’s silhouette. [["Quinn?"]]

Of course it is Quinn. $q_He gives me a sneaky grin and lets go of me. Then, without a care in the world, $q_he makes $q_himself comfortable beside me, touching the side of my thigh as if $q_he belonged there. “What are you doing here?” I ask. “I’m here to help you,” $q_he says with a mysterious smile that my drowsy mind can barely make sense of. “Help with what?” “Your wet dreams, of course.” “My–? But what about–” Brick and Floyd. Thankfully, the others are on a sentry duty. Neverminding that, how is Quinn here in the first place? Did they hear me? $q_He leans to my ear, $q_his breath heating up my skin. “Doesn’t it make everything more exciting?” The answer comes to me before I can think more clearly. [["Yes."]] [["No."]]

I hate to admit it: the danger of them waking up could be quite enticing. Quinn nods. “You need to be really, really quiet. If you wake them up…” $q_He looks at me with feigned seriousness. “I will have to kill them both.” “Why?” “To protect your honor.” “When did you start to care about that?” $q_He smirks. “You got me. Honor is for fools.” [[Continue|continue3]]

Id' be afraid of waking them up. It’s not exciting, it’s worrying. Quinn shakes $q_his head with a small smile on $q_his face. “Typical. Such a worrywart.” A surge of annoyance. “It’s common sense,” I retort. “I’m sorry,” $q_he coos and caresses my hair. “Please, don’t worry. I promise you that they will sleep through it.” There’s a layer of mischief beneath $q_his words. “How can you? Did you put a spell on them?” “No, I killed them.” “What?!” “Just kidding. But don’t shout or they will wake up.” As if in cue, a loud snore makes it all too clear that Brick, at least, is alive and well. [[Continue|continue3]]

However, before I can start to question their invasion of my room, the flashbacks of my dream take over me. The white-haired person doing things to me. Despite the dread my body is still feeling the effects of the dream. <<if $sex is "male">> [[My dick is hard.]] <</if>> <<if $sex is "female">> [[My pussy is wet.]] <</if>>

The thought conjures up a jolt of pleasure shooting through my pussy and I bite my lip to control it. Thank the Twins Quinn can’t see my state. Or can $q_he? $q_He gives me a mischievous grin that I can barely see in the darkness. I look away. “Is my dearest friend all wet down there?” $q_He asks innocently. [[Deny it.]] [[Ignore it. I want to talk about the nightmare.]]

[[Ignore it. I want to talk about the nightmare.]] [[Try to hide it.]]

"$name." Someone’s amused voice cuts through my hazy state, infiltrating the nightmare. I jump up. Or try to. The stranger’s hands hold me down. [[Punch them!]] [[Shout for help!]] [[Wait.]]

Quinn’s heated gaze seems to mirror mine. However, the heat within me is soon quenched by my worry about the dream. $q_He tilts $q_his head with a wily smile. “Is it about the dream? Wasn’t it a good one? You moaned and whimpered.” “What? No. It wasn’t.” And I didn’t need to know that I almost woke the whole room up. “There was a stranger. Doing things to me.” $q_He shrugs. “Sounds like a good dream to me.” “Then, their white hair disappeared and they turned into a lump of darkness. It devoured me.” “Hm.” $q_He tries to appear nonchalant about the information but something has piqued $q_his interest. $q_He’s like a well-fed cat who heard mice nearby. “Do you know something about the dream?” I want to ask if it was $q_his doing. Could $q_he also project nightmares to my head? Why would $q_he do that? “Your wet nightmares? Hardly.” $q_His tone is indifferent but there’s something $q_he’s not telling me. [[Another lie?]]

Thank the Twins it’s dark. “Why are your hands shielding your abdomen, my love?” “No reason.” My voice is strained but playful. The situation is sudden but not unwelcome. “Oh? So… If I were to investigate, there wouldn’t be any trace of hard cocks in there?” “No. Not even one of those.” Quinn gives me a long, teasing look. “You won’t mind me checking if you’re telling the truth?” I pout and say nothing as my body prepares for $q_his touch. $q_He gives me a flirtatious smile and starts to trace my stomach with the two of $q_his fingers as if they were a set of legs. His fingers ‘walk’ lower and lower still. The silliness of the situation makes me chuckle. Quinn raises $q_his brow. “Excuse me? This is a serious matter. We will now find out if you’re a liar. The future of our relationship depends on this.” [[“Will you leave me if I’m deemed unreliable?”]]

$q_He grazes my hair as $q_his nose touches mine. “I love you.” “I–” Before I can say anything, $q_he shuts my mouth again with $q_his own, kissing me into silence. <<if $sex is "male">> $q_His tongue teases mine as $q_his hand starts caressing my cock. <</if>> <<if $sex is "female">> $q_His tongue teases mine as $q_his hand starts caressing my pussy. <</if>> [[Continue|continue4]]

$q_He bites my lip before I can recoil. The taste of blood spreads through my mouth. “I’m sorry. I hurt you,” $q_he says in an emotionless tone. “Was it an accident?” “No.” “Then how can you apol–” But $q_he doesn’t let me finish the sentence. Instead, $q_he kisses me again. <<if $sex is "male">> $q_His tongue teases mine as $q_his hand starts caressing my cock. <</if>> <<if $sex is "female">> $q_His tongue teases mine as $q_his hand starts caressing my pussy. <</if>> [[Continue|continue4]]

“No. I’m not,” I say and convince no one. My voice is strained but playful. The situation is sudden but not unwelcome. “Oh? Then, you won’t mind me checking if you tell the truth?” I pout and say nothing as my body prepares for $q_his touch. $q_He gives me a playful smile and starts to trace my stomach with the two of $q_his fingers as if they were a set of legs. His fingers ‘walk’ lower and lower still. The silliness of the situation makes me chuckle. Quinn raises $q_his brow. “Excuse me? This is a serious matter. We will now find out if you’re a liar. The future of our relationship depends on this.” “Will you leave me if I’m deemed unreliable?” $q_He smiles and leans closer to my ear. “I will devour you whole.” [["Oh, no."]]

I focus on $q_his soft movements, $q_his warm breath against my naked skin. Every now and again, $q_he changes the rhythm, all the while looking at my face, inspecting every change in my expression. The focus on $q_his face is something I’ve never seen before. Unabashedly, $q_he drinks the sight of me. There’s not a trace of deception in $q_his gaze: there’s only pure, unadulterated worship. The feeling of love and warmth fills me. It enhances my pleasure, to think that someone would be able to look at me like that. Like it didn’t matter what I did, $q_he’d always be there for me. <<if $sex is "male">> $q_He spits on my dick and picks up the speed. <</if>> <<if $sex is "female">> $q_He picks up the speed. <</if>> [[Wet noises and my heavy breathing fills the room.]]

I’m only partially aware that I should be quiet, that the men in the room could wake up anytime. [[Moan.]] [[Try to touch Quinn.]]

Without thinking, I let out a loud moan. But, instead of shutting my mouth, Quinn looks at me with pride on $q_his face. “Let’s see how loud you’ll have to moan for your friends to wake up.” “Not funny.” I shake my head and ignore $q_his grin. I focus on the pleasure $q_he so willingly gives me. [[I'm close.]]

“I want to touch you,” I whisper and try to reach for $q_his pants. But $q_he quickly shakes $q_his head, banishing my hand without a second thought. “Why not?” I ask, trying not to sound needy. $q_His mouth is but a thin line when $q_he says: “I’d prefer not.” I try not to think about it too much, perhaps $q_he just doesn’t feel like it. So, I give up and focus on the pleasure $q_he so willingly gives me. [[I'm close.]]

Then, something dark flashes across $q_his gaze. //disgusting creature// “What?” Cold washes over me as I stop $q_his hand. “What?” $q_he asks, seemingly as confused as I am. “Did you just call me a disgusting creature?” $q_His jaw drops. “I would never!” Truth rings in $q_his words but can I be sure of it? “I’m sure I heard you say that. In my head.” “Oh.” $q_He nods and looks at our intertwined hands. “I didn’t talk about you.” “Who, then?” $q_He lets out a little laugh. “Myself.” [[“Why?”]]

“Hey,” $q_he says when $q_he sees my state of irritation. “I don’t know who that person is. I don’t know how they ended up in your wet nightmares.” $q_He takes my hand into $q_his and squeezes it lightly. “But it was just a dream. And, it sounds like you enjoyed yourself before the stranger ate you up.” $q_He smiles and caresses my bare skin. But I don’t feel like it. It was too real. Every bit of lust has left my body. And $q_he sees it. $q_He crawls next to me. “I understand. Hugs, instead?” After my grateful nod, $q_his slim body intertwines with mine. “Do you swear you had nothing to do with the nightmare?” “By my family’s graves.” Grim. But still, I smile at the feeling of $q_his warmth against my skin, thankful that $q_he is here with me. And I want to believe $q_him. Soon enough, I drift back to sleep.

$q_He smiles and leans closer to my ear. “I will devour you whole.” “Oh, no,” I say as his whisper sends a small shiver running through me. The image of the darkness devouring me is still too fresh in my mind. “Just focus on me.” Another whisper, another surge of shiver. Finally, $q_his fingers touch my hands. Gently and with purpose, $q_he guides my hands away, freeing my cock from beneath. $q_He caresses my pubic hair gently while $q_his breathing next to my ear. “I need to feel it in order to be sure. Are you ready for the inspection?” $q_he asks. As soon as I give $q_him a nod, $q_his soft, cold fingers start caressing my rock-hard shaft. Then, $q_he shakes $q_his head as if disappointed. “I knew it.” “I’m sorry,” I joke, despite my growing pleasure. “We’re far past apologies. I need to teach you how to behave.” $q_He grabs my cock and kisses me. I groan in $q_his mouth. “Tell me you’re sorry.” [["No."|nope1]] [["I'm sorry for lying."]]

$q_His whisper sends a small shiver running through me. The image of the darkness devouring me is still too fresh in my mind. “Just focus on me.” Another whisper, another surge of shiver. Finally, $q_his fingers touch my pubic mound. $q_He caresses the hair gently while $q_his breathing next to my ear. “Are you ready for the inspection?” $q_he asks. As soon as I give $q_him a nod, $q_he starts tracing the outer lips. Then, $q_he shakes $q_his head as if disappointed. “Listen to this.” $q_He moves $q_his fingers, creating the sounds of wetness. “I’m sorry,” I joke, despite my growing pleasure. “We’re far past apologies. I need to teach you how to behave.” $q_He pushes $q_his fingers into me and kisses me. I groan in $q_his mouth. “Tell me you’re sorry.” [["No."|nope1]] [["I'm sorry for lying."]]

“I was getting aroused, looking at your flushed face. And the feeling was disturbing. How I felt… things. I didn’t like it.” That doesn’t sound good. “Do you want to talk about it?” Quinn shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. I can still please you.” “That’s hardly the most pressing matter.” $q_He looks at my groin and sighs. “It seems so.” $q_He sighs. “Did we really just miss your orgasm because of my minor issues?” But, before I can ask more information about $q_his said ‘minor issues’, $q_he squeezes $q_his lithe frame next to me and pouts. “Fine. Hugs it is.” “What about–” “No talk. Just hugs.” $q_He wraps $q_himself around me and sighs. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” “You’re not the boss of me.” A smile rings through $q_his voice. Worry lingers at the back of my head as I look at $q_him pretending to sleep. If I asked, $q_he wouldn’t answer. So, I drift to sleep, silently hoping that Quinn’s presence would protect me from the white-haired stranger. It does. The stranger leaves me be for the night.

!!!Niall x female Hati Rays of sunshine caress my naked skin. The ground beneath me radiates remnants of the resistant winter. The spring is winning but winter doesn’t give up their crown easily. Cold as it still may be, I need to invite all of nature’s forces to enter me with nothing preventing it from doing so. I need to be naked. My breasts are freed from their shackles, they bathe in the warm air, the nipples firm due to the occasional cold breeze. I am one with the newborn grass, yearning to touch the sky after their slumber. I am one with the dandelions, hungrily feasting on the early spring warmth. I am one with the– No. There’s someone here. [[Who?]]

I do not stand up. Instead, I steel my mind and look for the intruder. A man, not a beast. A stalker in the bushes. A Roman scout, meaning to uncover my secrets? They linger, their curious gaze searches for me. They radiate a mix of feelings too confusing for me to decipher but that’s secondary in importance. Eagerness. Worry? No. That sounds wrong. I cannot see them but I feel them. The wards expose their location. There’s no other way. I need to kill them. They already saw too much. I focus on the light, the warmth, the radiance. Become one with it. They cannot see me for a few heartbeats. That is all I need to stop their insolent heart from beating. [[The thought saddens me.][$regret to true]] [[The thought excites me.][$bloodthirsty to true]] [[I feel nothing. It needs to be done.][$stoic to true]]

To defile the sanctity of this day with murder is most unwelcome. But, I sense that they're Roman, the taint of the Empire hangs like a stench of sewer on them. They know who I am. And they’ve seen my naked form. They need to die with that information. I move. Their unsuspecting form is blurry as I approach him at the speed of the wind. [["AAAAAAAARGH!"]]

Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill the Roman. Kill the one who dares to defile the sanctity of the ritual. Drench the ground with their blood, nourish the green with their pulsating red. I move. Their unsuspecting form is blurry as I approach him at the speed of the wind. [["AAAAAAAARGH!"]]

I inhale the scent of greenery, strengthening the bond with the meadow. It matters little how I feel. Death is only but a part of life. And this death needs to happen. I move. Their unsuspecting form is blurry as I approach him at the speed of the wind. [["AAAAAAAARGH!"]]

I let out a warcry and jump at the man. A pathetic little yelp leaves his lips as he fumbles down. I wrestle his startled frame easily underneath me with my dagger on his throat. Surprised fear is the last thing you’ll feel in this world, Roman worm. <<if $regret>> Regret guides my hand as I push the dagger down. I should be quick so he won’t suffer for too long. “Hati?” The man says, his voice quivering. “Huh?” I blink at the voice. I’m sitting on top of Niall. He looks at me like a deer at the hunter. “I’m sorry! I thought you were someone else.” I quickly take the knife away from his throat. <</if>> <<if $bloodthirsty>> His throat still pulsates with life, but not for long. I push the blade down, slowly, savoring the moment. My eyes widen at the sight of his blood. The thrill of the kill hastens my breathing, my– “Hati!” The future corpse shouts. I blink at the voice. “Niall?” Recognition makes me loosen my grip on the dagger. “Uh? Could you put the knife away?” Another blink. I suppose I should. <</if>> <<if $stoic>> A quick slash of his throat and it’ll be over for you. “Hati?” The man says, his voice quivering. I blink at the voice. It seems that I’m sitting on top of Niall. He looks at me like a deer at the hunter. “Oh. Sorry about that.” I take the knife away from his throat. <</if>> [["Why are you here?" I ask.]]

“Well, why are you naked? Here in the woods? Alone? Anyone could see you!” “I was doing a rite. That you interrupted.” “I’m sorry?” He does look like he’s sorry. He’s just not sure what he’s sorry about. <<if $regret>> “I almost killed you,” I say with my brows furrowed. To think that I acted with so little thought. “It’s alright.” “It’s far from alright, I–” But before I can continue, there’s a twitch of his cock against me. I realize I’m sitting right on top of it. <</if>> <<if $bloodthirsty>> “I almost killed you.” I almost cut open that pale neck of yours. Well, I did cut it open, but not as much as I was prepared to. A shiver of confused disappointment runs through me. He must see something in my gaze, for he wheezes: “Could you not? Kill me, I mean.” “Of course,” I say, my mind elsewhere. Then, there’s a twitch of his cock against me. I realize I’m sitting right on top of it. <</if>> <<if $stoic>> I stare at him. I almost ended his life. Then, something awakens me from my daze: a twitch of his cock against me. <</if>> [[“Are you serious? I just almost murdered you.” What a weird man.]] [[Give him a smirk and push myself against him.]] [[My eyes widen and I look away. I feel confusingly aroused, too.]]

I try not to judge but… I do judge. Judgement oozes from my words and I’m not exactly trying to hide it. “Don’t blame me,” he pouts. “You’re sitting right on top of it.” “But the fear of death didn’t deter your excitement?” He sighs and looks away. “Let’s not dwell on this, alright?” His face is flushed, as per usual. A mix of embarrassment and arousal. He gives me another pout. “Are you going to get up?” Uneasiness tenses his muscles against me. “Do you want me to?” “I’m… unsure. Do you want to?” [[“I don’t think we should.”]]

He lets out a surprised little groan as his gaze darts to my hips. His hands wander to my hips, as if unsure if he should push me away or pull me closer. His cock, however, grows even harder against my aching groin. “What were you doing in the bushes, Niall?” I ask to tease him. He lets out a little wheeze as an answer. “What was that?” I ask. There’s a little laugh, high-pitched, nervous. “I was really worried. I was worried because someone could just come and watch you naked and realize you’re a woman and they could go back to the barracks and have you killed in an instance and–” His nervous blabbering continues. “So, you didn’t just want to watch me naked?” “Me? No. No. Of course not.” I shush him with my index finger. [[Wouldn’t it be fun to tease him a little more…]] [[Kiss him.]]

I’m not sure what to think about this; what to think about the aching in my groin when his cock twitches against me again. His hand touches mine, gently, filled with hesitation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” To think that he’s apologizing to me while I’m the one still holding on to a knife. I just remember to let the knife go. It remains next to us, discarded but not forgotten. I shake my head. “Don’t be sorry. I, uh, came here into your lap quite willingly.” He lets out a little laugh, high-pitched, nervous. “You did, sure. But if I didn’t creep in the bushes watching you naked…” He halts his words. “I mean, I was worried. I was really worried because someone could just come and watch you naked and realize you’re a woman and they could go back to the barracks and have you killed in an instance and–” His nervous blabbering continues. I put my hand over his mouth, gently. “But you stayed to take a peek?” An amusing thought. “Didn’t take you for a pervert.” Can’t help but tease him a little. He shakes his head furiously, freeing his mouth. “I’m not!” Another twitch of his cock. It makes me bite my lip. Arousal is written all over his features despite the shared laughter: his swollen lips invite me to kiss them, his drooping eyelids want to close shut in indulgence of me. [[Kiss him.]]

He quickly nods his head. “Of course. Whatever you want. This was a little weird, after all.” His muscles lose some of their tension and he lets out a deep sigh that he was holding. “Aren’t you upset?” “What?” The tension comes back. “Please. You could never upset me over not wanting to have sex.” His words do ring true. He looks at me earnestly and I almost believe him. No, I want to believe him. Perhaps I could. He gives me a small, hesitant smile. “You’re still naked.” “Oh.” As if just remembering how cold it is, my body shivers. The sight makes Niall frown. “You’ll catch a cold like that! We need to get you warm.” With little to no trouble, but carefully, he moves me off him. He takes off his own cloak before wrapping me into its warmth. “Where are your clothes?” Fine. I’ll put some clothes on.

I give him another sweet smile. “You know what I think?” “Huh?” “I think you’re secretly a pervert.” “Wha–” “And I think that you got turned on by me almost killing you.” “No, I wouldn’t say–” His confused boner twitches against me. I take the dagger and watch as his gaze follows its shiny blade. “Do you want me to trace your beautiful neck with this? To see if drawing some blood would enhance your pleasure?” “Huh? I–” I bend down to whisper into his ear: “Do you trust me?” I wouldn’t. I watch closely as he opens his mouth but nothing but a puff of air comes out. [[Start laughing.]] [[Look at him with dead seriousness.]] [[“Sorry, I was just kidding.”]]

I bend down to kiss him. He eagerly meets me halfway like he was waiting for it the whole time. The scent of his favorite herby soap and the remnants of his lavender-infused bathwater linger between us as his soft lips explore mine. I take in his scent, its earthiness grounding me into the little moment with him. His arms caress my naked skin, slowly, carefully, unsure if they’re welcome there. I rub his tense bicep and his touch turns more impatient: he explores my neck, my back, my hips, all too eager to familiarize himself with every nook of my body. He pokes my lips with the tip of his tongue, asking for permission to enter. [[Open my mouth a little.]] [[Assault his mouth with my tongue.]]

I can’t hold it in: his reaction is just too much. And when I look at him, he smiles. He smiles like the sun itself. “What?” I ask, partly confused to see a smile as bright as that. “I love to hear you laugh," he says like it's the most natural thing to admit. [[Blush and look away.]] [["Ugh!" Stand up.]] [[“...Thank you.”]]

He keeps opening his mouth like a fish out of water. He looks at the knife, looks at me, all the while wondering if he’ll soon feel the cold blade against his sweet, sweet neck. “Not now?” He finally says. “But later?” “Uh? Sure. I mean… if you’re into it, I could try it.” “How nice of you.” It is. I’m unsure if I actually want to try it out but to know that he’s open to experimenting… that’s nice. Then, a shiver runs through me. It must’ve been visible, since Niall gives me a frown. “This will not do. We need to get you warm.” With little to no trouble, but carefully, he moves me off him. He takes off his own cloak before wrapping me into its warmth. “Where are your clothes?” Fine. I’ll put some clothes on.

Relief washes over him. “Thank the gods above. I mean, I could be into it, but I haven't tried it.” “You might be into me cutting you?” “If you put it like that, it sounds weird.” “Niall. It is pretty weird.” He pouts. “I’m being open-minded.” And I’m still naked. And starting to get cold. A shiver runs through me. It must’ve been visible, since Niall gives me a frown. “This will not do. We need to get you warm.” With little to no trouble, but carefully, he moves me off him. He takes off his own cloak before wrapping me into its warmth. “Where are your clothes?” Fine. I’ll put some clothes on.

Stupid Niall, making my cheeks heat up like this. “You’re beautiful,” he says, making it worse. [["Ugh!" Stand up.]]

“You are quite welcome. And I do mean it.” “I see,” I say as I study his face. He does look like he’s telling the truth without any attempt at manipulating me. He looks earnest. And kind. Too much so. I shake my head to clear it. Then, a shiver runs through my body: I’m still, after all, quite naked. The sight makes Niall frown. “This will not do. We need to get you warm.” With little to no trouble, but carefully, he moves me off him. He takes off his own cloak before wrapping me into its warmth. “Where are your clothes?” Fine. I’ll put some clothes on.

“What?” he asks as if he didn’t know what’s wrong. [["Shut up. No one is that sweet!"]] [[Just walk away to find my clothes.]]

“I’m just stating the truth.” “You look like you’re pulling my leg.” “I would never. However, I have to admit that your reactions make my compliments feel even sweeter.” He smiles. I almost gasp. The bugger! He knows what he’s doing! I stomp away to find my clothes. I can hear him chuckle after me.

“Oh, right, you’re naked,” he says after me. Yes, a fine observation.

I invite him in and he enters with determination and care while holding me like I was fragile, too precious to break. The thought conjures up a smile within me. The knife lies right next to us but he would still treat me like the rarest of flowers. He opens his eyes and gives me a confused little frown. “What is it? Am I doing something wrong?” [[I don’t think I’m ready for this amount of vulnerability.]] [[“No. I just think you’re adorable.”]] [[“No. Nothing is wrong.” My cheeks are heating up.]]

He lets out a muffled whelp into my mouth as I penetrate his lips with my tongue. I explore his sturdy frame with no constraints or hesitation. It, in turn, encourages him to touch me with more confidence. His strong hands cup my buttocks and I hum in contentment against his lips. He smiles against my lips and gives my ass a firm squeeze. I start to grind my exposed groin against his erection, our breathing growing more and more irregular, needy. The need to be closer to him grows with every touch. “Do you want me inside you?” he asks, his words ring as needy as I feel. [[“But don’t come inside.”]] [[Start ripping his pants off.]]

Time to escape the situation. My walls quickly come back up as I shake my head. “No. You’re not doing anything wrong.” He nods, still frowning, frantically looking at my face, searching for anything that could be amiss. “I’m just a little cold,” I quickly lie. Then, I realize it’s not a lie. A shudder runs through me. Niall’s eyes widen. “Oh my gods, you’re right. It’s so cold and you’re still naked!” He all but shouts the fact in my face. With little to no trouble, but carefully, he moves me off him. He takes off his own cloak before wrapping me into its warmth. “Where are your clothes?” Fine. I’ll put some clothes on. It’s a much needed distraction anyway.

His cheeks heat up but he doesn’t look away. Instead, he gives me a relieved smile. “Thank you.” [[Continue to kiss him.]]

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, his words too sweet for me to fully comprehend. Why is he so sweet? I just tried to murder him, for Twins’ sake. I need to shut him up. [[Continue to kiss him.]]

I explore his sturdy frame with no constraints or hesitation. It, in turn, encourages him to touch me with more confidence. His strong hands cup my buttocks and I hum in contentment against his lips. He smiles against my lips and gives my ass a firm squeeze. I start to grind my exposed groin against his erection, our breathing growing more and more irregular, needy. The need to be closer to him grows with every touch. “Do you want me inside you?” he asks, his words ring as needy as I feel. [[“But don’t come inside.”]] [[Start ripping his pants off.]]

He gives me a serious look. “I would never do that without your permission or–” “Shut up and take your pants off.” He bites on his lip to stop himself from pouting and starts removing his pants with haste. Soon, his cock stands hard against my inner thigh and his precum sticks to my skin. “Do you want me to–” But he doesn’t have time to continue the query before I take his cock and guide it easily inside me. He lets out a pleased groan as his fingers dig into my ass cheeks. “I’m already kind of close…,” he says with some guilt. “I trust you to hold it in like the good boy you are.” “Uh-huh.” He nods in agreement as he squeezes his eyes shut. I start to ride him slowly and with control. [[“Look at me.”]] [[Look at him.]]

Without answering, I hastily free his dick from its constraints. Soon, his cock stands hard against my inner thigh and his precum sticks to my skin. “Do you want me to–” But he doesn’t have time to continue the query before I take his cock and guide it easily inside me. He lets out a pleased groan as his fingers dig into my ass cheeks. “I’m already kind of close…,” he says with some guilt. “I trust you to hold it in like the good boy you are.” “Uh-huh.” He nods in agreement as he squeezes his eyes shut. I start to ride him slowly and with control. [[“Look at me.”]] [[Look at him.]]

As the command leaves me, he immediately opens his eyes. Seeing it makes me smile. “Good.” He gives me a shaky smile, hesitant, vulnerable. “I’m keeping it in.” “As you should.” I ride him faster, reveling in the feeling of him filling me completely. I allow him to guide my movements by my hips. His biceps are tense as he starts thrusting into me faster and faster. His gaze devours me, worships me, he takes in all of me. He groans and his cock twitches in anticipating agony, wanting to come but not allowed to. As my body starts to writhe and my panting quickens, he quickly grabs me into his arms. In his arms, in his warmth, my cries become muffled against him. I breathe heavily, taking in his scent, his warmth, his powerful body underneath me. My inner walls still twitch around his rock-hard cock as I collect myself. I snuggle against the side of his neck. [[Then, Niall shoves me off him.]]

His eyes are shut tight as he’s concentrating on not filling me up with his seed. I squeeze his cock with my pussy and look at him squirm. It puts a smile on my face. I ride him faster, reveling in the feeling of him filling me completely. I allow him to guide my movements by my hips. His biceps are tense as he starts thrusting into me faster and faster. His gaze devours me, worships me, he takes in all of me. He groans and his cock twitches in anticipating agony, wanting to come but not allowed to. As my body starts to writhe and my panting quickens, he quickly grabs me into his arms. In his arms, in his warmth, my cries become muffled against him. I breathe heavily, taking in his scent, his warmth, his powerful body underneath me. My inner walls still twitch around his rock-hard cock as I collect myself. I snuggle against the side of his neck. [[Then, Niall shoves me off him.]]

The gesture is sudden and surprising and I end up with my bare ass against the cold grass. He throws me a quick look as if to make sure I didn’t hurt myself or my feelings while urgency floods his gaze. “I’m sorry, I’m just–” ‘Coming,’ he tried to say before his cock started pumping seed on his bare stomach. He buries his face in his hands and lets out a muffled groan. He stays like that for a while: hidden behind his hands, safe from the outside world as he recovers from his orgasm. [[I don’t want him to think this means anything. I get up to fetch my clothes.]] [[Give him time.]] [[Caress his stomach.]]

I steel myself and leave him there, alone and vulnerable. “Huh?” he asks after me. “Going to fetch my clothes,” I say without turning to face him. “Oh, right. It’s still really cold.” It is. But that’s not the reason I left. I quickly take a peek at him: he hugs himself, his gaze dull and unseeing. I quicken my step. It is indeed quite cold.

I look at him, remain next to him and wait for him to recover. However, as the stimulation of the mind and body starts to clear, I realize how cold it is. And I’m still completely naked. Niall takes a peek at me, his features surprisingly distorted with a frown. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “You’re freezing.” Niall looks almost angry. Not at me, but it’s as if he was mad at the frosty spring weather. “You’ll catch a cold like that! We need to get you warm.” He sits up and quickly wraps me into his cloak. His warmth and his scent cocoon me and I can’t help but smile a little. “Where are your clothes?” he asks in an almost demanding tone. I stifle the urge to laugh at the change of his demeanor. I meekly point at the location of my clothes and he takes off. “Wait there, I’ll fetch them!” “Fine.” I tighten his cloak around me and watch him scurry away.

He’s a strong man but his frame still feels soft when he lies with his muscles relaxed. His stomach is almost squishy and I can’t help but wonder if it would make for a good pillow. He takes a peek at me, a shy smile lingering on his lips. He brushes my arm as his gaze holds mine. “Was that good for you?” he asks. [[Tease him.]] [[“Yes. You?”]]

“Eh, it was alright.” I shrug. The crushed look on his face makes me immediately backtrack. “I’m just teasing. It was good.” He lets out a relieved sigh. “Thank the gods, otherwise I would’ve asked for a second round to have a chance at redemption.” He gives me a small mischievous smile. “You want a second round?” “No need. You already said I was good.” I push his side and give him a pout. “Did you just tease me back? The audacity!” He chuckles before suddenly frowning. His hand holds my arm as he says: “You’re freezing.” I am. My mind was just too occupied to notice. Niall looks almost angry. Not at me, but it’s as if he was mad at the frosty spring weather. “You’ll catch a cold like that! We need to get you warm.” He sits up and quickly wraps me into his cloak. His warmth and his scent cocoon me and I can’t help but smile a little. “Where are your clothes?” he asks in an almost demanding tone. I stifle the urge to laugh at the change of his demeanor. I meekly point at the location of my clothes and he takes off. “Wait there, I’ll fetch them!” “Fine.” I tighten his cloak around me and watch him scurry away.

The smile on him widens. “So good.” “I’m glad to hear it.” We share a smile as silence hangs snugly between us. Then, he looks at my arm, at his hand that’s caressing me. A frown takes over his features. “What is it?” “You’re freezing.” I am. My mind was just too occupied to notice. Niall looks almost angry. Not at me, but it’s as if he was mad at the frosty spring weather. “You’ll catch a cold like that! We need to get you warm.” He sits up and quickly wraps me into his cloak. His warmth and his scent cocoon me and I can’t help but smile a little. “Where are your clothes?” he asks in an almost demanding tone. I stifle the urge to laugh at the change of his demeanor. I meekly point at the location of my clothes and he takes off. “Wait there, I’ll fetch them!” “Fine.” I tighten his cloak around me and watch him scurry away.

This is dangerous. Stupidly dangerous, some might argue. To infiltrate the Legate’s office is another level of stupidity. But when have I ever cared about that? Just another day in the barracks. [[I’m going to kill him.]] [[I’m going to find information.]]

I’m tired of these games. I need to kill the head of this operation. Realistically, I can never reach the Emperor. But I can take the Legate with me. It will have to do. [[Then, a man enters the room.]]

Something incriminating, something to use against him. I’m not sure if it’s worth the risk but if I could just find something… Something worth the stupid risk I’m taking right now. [[Then, a man enters the room.]]

The Legate. “What? Who?” He squints and his eyes widen. “The boy? Hati?” “Yes. That’s me.” He tilts his head, expecting me to elaborate further. I suppose that’s fair of him. [[“I’m here to kill you.”]] [[Flirt my way out of this.]] [[“I was just looking for a toilet.”]]

I’m not here to mince words, I’m here to kill you. For what you did. It might end here, perhaps the guards will kill me but I will take you with me. “You’re… what?” “You heard me, old man. I want to take your head.” He looks around. “Is this a prank? Did Marcus put you up for it?” “Marcus? Gods, no.” But it does remind me: if I kill him now, I can’t kill Marcus, too. ‘You should be more careful,’ Quinn said. And here I am, openly threatening the Legate. Abort the mission. “I want to…” Think, you fool. “...give you head.” “...What?” What? Before I can elaborate further, a voice interrupts. [[“Is the old fool inside?”]]

“My Lord!” I gasp. “Oh, dear. I didn’t have time to prepare...” “Prepare for what?” “I wanted to surprise you,” I say as I bite my lip. He looks at my tooth grazing my soft flesh, a frown still lingering on his features. However, I ignited a spark of interest. Excellent. “I wanted to dress up properly. But perhaps it’s for the better that you’re here. Now I can ask you: What strikes your fancy?” “What are you talking about?” “Roleplay, of course. Would you want me to dress up as a Greek femboy to be ravished by a Roman manly stud that is you? A poor lost lamb in the woods, ravished by Pan. Or perhaps you’d like me to dress up as your lovely wife?” As the list goes on, his mouth drops more and more. I fear it might continue till it touches the ground. “Please, my Lord, I want to pleasure you,” I implore him. Finally, he clears his throat. He meets with my gaze with more confidence than I gave him credit for. He looks almost… pleased. “How forward of you.” “Good things come to those who are brave, my Lord.” “Well said… Well said, indeed.” The voice lowers to a murmur as he gives my body a thorough look. Before I can say that I will fetch the outfit that (naturally I would just leave and never return), a voice interrupts. [[“Is the old fool inside?”]]

“And you thought my office looked like one?” He doesn’t believe me. “I took the wrong turn.” “The toilet is outside.” No, he definitely doesn’t believe me. “I took several wrong turns.” “Hati,” he says in a voice that must be reserved for misbehaving children. And probably his misbehaving son. “We both know you’re lying.” “No. I’m not.” “I have raised ten children and they all lie. I know a lie when I see one.” [[“I speak the truth. Now, I’m off to the said toilet.”]] [[“That sounds like a problem with your parenting methods.”]]

I start to sidestep towards the door while Legate looks at me with a frown on his face. “Not so fast. Did you steal something? Should I call my guards to–” [[“Is the old fool inside?”]]

He frowns. “Soldier,” he says, putting a clear emphasis on my rank. “My patience is growing thin. Perhaps my guards should–” [[“Is the old fool inside?”]]

A voice. A voice I know all too well. [[Marcus.]]

“Son,” Legate yelps. He gives me a bewildered look. He must know that Marcus harbors feelings for me, no matter how complicated. I look at the door. I look at the distressed Legate. And I smile. Quickly, just before the door opens, I dive under Legate’s desk, yanking him with me. “What the–” “Shut up or I’ll tell him that you’ve been fucking me.” His eyes widen. I knew it. He doesn’t want to destroy their relationship, even if it’s in shambles already. He gives me a quick nod, he knows he’s trapped and there’s no escape. I’m in control. Then, he stands up to meet his son. Marcus’s irritated words follow him: “What were you doing there?” “Oh, I just… dropped something.” There’s an awkward silence as Legate sits down and lets out a chuckle. I look at his crotch. And I find myself smiling still. My devious plan grows ever brighter, ever clearer. [[Be gentle.]] [[Grab his dick.]]

With a gentle touch, I start to uncover his limp member. There are no pants to shield it from my gaze, it’s all too easy to access it. Legate’s thighs harden under my touch and his cock quickly starts to grow under my gaze. He’s clearly aroused. If he truly wanted to, he could shove me away. But, instead, his hands remain above the table, leaving me to work in peace. I bury his soft dick into my mouth and it grows in an instant. A silent groan escapes Legate’s lips and I wonder if Marcus heard it. His fully erected cock tastes mildly like herby soap, his pubic hair is shaved. He’s either used to things like this or he wishes he was. “My son, now is not the ti–” “When is it ever the time for you? When do I get to decide the right time?” “Yes, well, you can. I still–” “You’re even more incoherent than usual.” It’s time to make him even more incoherent. My tongue assaults him, I lick him, wank him, make sure he’s loud and bothered. But he isn’t. I can see him biting his lip almost to the verge of blood. He’s steeled his mind, even though he’s clearly on the brink of orgasm. [[In the meantime...]]

I throw his tunic aside and smile at the sight: there it is. The instrument of my revenge, completely unshielded by pants, at my mercy. I grab it. And a loud groan filled with surprise and a hint of pain follows. “What’s wrong with you?” Marcus asks. “Just a… stomach ache. Something I ate. It keeps churning.” “Do you need to go?” “I’m fine,” he wheezes. Thank you for that mental image. No matter. The dick is already hard and ready for me. I lick the its tip and it twitches . He tries to double over, probably to shield it from me with his body, but the table prevents it. Oh, how I wish I could see Legate’s face. Now, I just have to settle for his desperate voice, the tensing muscles underneath my palms. “You look really ill,” Marcus says. “I feel really ill, yes. Did you have something to say or–?” “I do. Yes.” I bury his hard cock into my mouth just as he’s concentrating on hearing Marcus’s reply. He lets out a silent wheeze, one that I’m unsure if Marcus even heard. Pathetic. He needs to be louder. My tongue assaults him, I lick him, wank him, make sure he’s loud and bothered. But he isn’t. I can see him biting his lip almost to the verge of blood. He’s steeled his mind, even though he’s clearly on the brink of orgasm. How annoying. [[In the meantime...]]

Marcus is silent. He’s either trying to decide if he wants to say his piece or not or he suspects something. Finally, he says: “What did you do when you hurt mother? Made her cry?” “What?” Legate asks. “This was a mistake, I will–” “No, please, don’t leave. I’m here. Who did you hurt?” “A friend… What does it matter? Just answer the question.” “I bought her gifts. I told her that she’s beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world.” A pause. Marcus is thinking. Who did he hurt? He can’t possibly mean me? [[No. He can’t mean that.]] [[I think I may have made a terrible mistake.]] [[I don’t care.]]

I choose not to believe that. He’s a mean, stupid man, there must be plenty of people he’s hurt. And I will hurt him. I gobble up Legate’s dick, bury it deep into my mouth and fight against the urge to gag. I move my tongue on his tip, forcing him to shift his attention back to me. And I succeed. Legate’s disciplined stature cracks and he groans. His dick twitches and I prepare myself for his seed. And he comes. He squeezes my shoulder and tries to push his dick even deeper against my throat. I have half a mind to bite his dick to teach him manners but I settle for pushing his hand away. My mouth is filled with his hot cum as he lets out an awkward groan that he tries to hide under a fit of fake coughs. Marcus won’t be fooled. He knows. [["There's someone under the table, isn't there?"]]

I take the Legate’s dick out of my mouth and grimace at it, as if it was all its fault. But the fault is mine, I know it. I shouldn’t be here. This is too much, even for him. I took it too far. “You’ve been acting suspiciously,” Marcus starts and I cover my mouth. [["There’s someone under the table, is there?"]]

Who cares if he means me? If anything, it’s good that his conscience suffers from hurting me. And I will make him hurt more. I gobble up Legate’s dick, bury it deep into my mouth and fight against the urge to gag. I move my tongue on his tip, forcing him to shift his attention back to me. And I succeed. Legate’s disciplined stature cracks and he groans. His dick twitches and I prepare myself for his seed. And he comes. He squeezes my shoulder and tries to push his dick even deeper against my throat. I have half a mind to bite his dick to teach him manners but I settle for pushing his hand away. My mouth is filled with his hot cum as he lets out an awkward groan that he tries to hide under a fit of fake coughs. Marcus won’t be fooled. He knows. [["There's someone under the table, isn't there?"]]

“No! Of course not!” Legate yelps and tries to shove me deeper underneath. “Father. I’m not an idiot. There was a whore under the table this whole time, wasn’t there? What’s wrong with you?” The voice comes closer. “No, I–” Then, Marcus’s face appears into my line of vision. The recognition paints his face with confusion, his wide eyes study my face, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. Then, he looks at his father’s erected dick and the confusion turns into disgust. “What the fuck?” He spits out the words and flees my gaze. [[Stay underneath the table. I’m ashamed.]] [[Stand up to face him.]]

I stay hidden, even if he saw me. I squeeze Legate’s calves as if they would bring me comfort. What have I done? The door slams and Marcus is gone. Heavy silence lingers in the room. “Boy?” Legate asks. “Could you get up?” I meekly obey him and do my best not to look at him. He pats my head. “He’ll recover.” “What?” “This is bad, yes. But he’ll recover. I can say that I forced you to do this if you want to.” “You’d do that?” I frown at the idea. He’d let his son think he forces himself on his soldiers? “It’s not the best plan, no. But I quite enjoyed this.” He gives me a confident smile, all too sly, not something I expected. “And I don’t want to see you sad.” “You want us to continue to meet like this?” Just another hungry smile, no explanation needed. [[“What about Marcus?”]] [[“I need to think about this.”]] [[“No. Absolutely no.”]]

I bite the insides of my cheek and stand up to follow him. I don’t know what my plan is. Am I going to apologize? Gloat? But he gives me no time for it. Instead, he slams the door and he’s gone. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding in. I’m not sure if this is what I wanted. “Boy?” “Hm?” I don’t turn to face Legate. I’d rather not see him right now. “You did a foolish thing,” he reprimands me. Now I’m getting a lecture from him. The day just keeps getting better and better. “But he’ll recover.” “What?” “This is bad, yes. But he’ll recover. I can say that I forced you to do this if you want to.” “You’d do that?” I frown at the idea. He’d let his son think he forces himself on his soldiers? “It’s not the best plan, no. But I quite enjoyed this.” He gives me a confident smile, all too sly, not something I expected. “And I don’t want to see you sad.” “You want us to continue to meet like this?” Just another hungry smile, no explanation needed. [[“What about Marcus?”]] [[“I need to think about this.”]] [[“No. Absolutely no.”]]

“He doesn’t need to know.” How devious of him. No wonder their relationship is in shambles. He gives me another smile, softer this time. But there’s an underlying hunger that I can see all too clearly now that he’s revealed his desire. He got the taste of me and he wants more. I shake my head. “I should go.”

“Of course, of course. Take all the time you need. I am nothing but a patient man.” He gives me another smile, softer this time. But there’s an underlying hunger that I can see all too clearly now that he’s revealed his desire. He got the taste of me and he wants more. I’m not sure how to feel about that.

The smile on his face loses its edge, turns warmer, softer. But I can’t unsee the hunger that he revealed to me. “I understand. I will still talk to Marcus, of course.” “I… thank you.” That’s weirdly kind of him. Suspiciously so.

I smile at the thought of him seeing me with his father’s cum in my mouth. Revenge tastes salty and metallic with a hint of bitterness. I push Legate aside even when he tries to hold me underneath the table. I turn to look at Marcus. And I give him a sweet smile. “Hati?” Marcus says. His voice cracks a little. Alarm and disappointment coat his words and he takes a small step back. [[Show him the load in my mouth.]] [[The sound makes me hesitate.]]

Just to see his reaction, I open my mouth. I stick my tongue out to let him see his father’s seed. And the look on his face is easily worth it. Disgust. Hurt. Pain. His gaze shifts back to meet mine. And I hold it. I smile and swallow the load. The exaggerated sound of the gulp makes him flinch. He tries to speak. Perhaps to ask what’s wrong with me, perhaps an insult would leave him. But nothing comes out. Absolutely nothing. Instead, he gives me a curt nod. And he leaves. Legate looks after his son. Silence hangs between us as he ponders on his next words. Finally, when utters them out, they’re curt and filled with regret: “This was a mistake.” No. That's where you're long, dear Legate. This is just the beginning. I will break that man.

The look on his face makes me pause and I silently swallow the cum. He sees it. He sees me swallowing. Disgust. Hurt. Pain. That and more. It’s all there on his face. His gaze shifts back from my throat to meet mine. And I hold it. I want to say something. A part of me wants to say I’m sorry, another part wants to gloat and make him hurt. He tries to speak. Perhaps to ask what’s wrong with me, perhaps an insult would leave him. But nothing comes out. Absolutely nothing. Instead, he gives me a curt nod. And he leaves. Legate looks after his son. Silence hangs between us as he ponders on his next words. Finally, when utters them out, they’re curt and filled with regret: “This was a mistake.” I find myself nodding along. Yes. Perhaps it was.

!!!Camilla x female Hati The cellar is brighter than I expected: braziers and candles illuminate the vast place. And it is indeed vast, the corridor leads to where my eyes can’t see in the darkness. However, it’s nothing I shouldn’t expect from rich Romans. The dirt floor is littered with what appears to be bottle necks peeking from the ground. Wine. Lots of wine. Some amphorae remain unburied, their sides decorated with painted florals. The smell of earth and honey surrounds me, it’s mixed with the smell of smoke from the braziers. [[There's Camilla.]]

She sits on a couch fit for two. Her eyes are closed as she fiddles the lyre in her hands. Her posture is firm, as per usual, but her shoulders are a little more relaxed. There’s even a ghost of an impish smile lingering on her lips. A loose tunic hangs on her lean frame and her naturally brown hair is tied into a small bun. Her skin has a golden tint and her lips remain unpainted. She gives me a knowing nod even before she opens her eyes, she knew I would come. I wasn’t so sure myself. To be invited into a dark cellar by Camilla is suspicious, to say the least. But she seems to be in no murder mood tonight. Unless she plans to beat me to death with her lyre. “I will teach you how to play,” she says as I approach her. [[“I already know how to play.” I don’t.][$liar to true]] [[“I already know how to play.” I actually do.][$lutist to true]] [[I’ve never played in my life.]]

It’s a lie, I’ve never touched a musical instrument in my life, much less a Roman one. However, she always loves to have the upper hand over me and I’d rather not give her this win, too. She raises a brow at me. It doesn’t matter if she knows that I’m lying, she will find out soon enough. “No matter,” she says. “You do not know how to play like me.” "Confident, are you?" “Merely stating the fact.” She smirks. “Now, enough babbling. Sit.” [[“Why?”|why sit]] [[Obey her without question.]]

“I don’t know how.” “That’s why I’m teaching you, you–” But she doesn’t finish the insult. She halts her tongue. “Please. Sit. Enough babbling.” "You were going to insult me, weren't you?" "Do you want me to?" She sighs and looks at the empty space next to her. "I don't like to repeat myself." [[“Why?”|why sit]] [[Obey her without question.]]

I dabbled with a harp when I had the time between my studies. The lyre in Camilla’s hands looks similar to it. “No matter,” she says. “You do not know how to play like me.” "Confident, are you?" “Merely stating the fact.” She smirks. “Now, enough babbling. Sit.” [[“Why?”|why sit]] [[Obey her without question.]]

“Why not?” she asks, clearly not willing to offer me any explanation. But there’s something about her tone that is out of the ordinary. There’s a peculiar sense of playfulness. Might as well obey her to see what she has planned for me. [[I sit next to her.]]

She looks pleased with me for not questioning her. She gives me another mischievous smirk but her eyes lack light. There’s a flash of darkness within her gaze. Slightly worrying. [[I sit next to her.]]

A whiff of saffron mixes with honey and wine when she turns to hand me the lyre. “Right now?” I ask. “Of course.” I suppose I expected a foreplay of sorts. Little small talk. [[“How have you been?”]] [[Obey her.]]

She gives me a frown. “Did you come here to ask me that?” “No. But I don’t know why I came here.” “To play the lyre,” she answers. I give her a side-eye. Apparently, I did come here to do just that. With a sigh, I take the lyre. [[I raise my gaze to her.]]

Without questioning her reasoning, I take the lyre. I run my finger alongside its wooden body. The instrument is a beautiful work of art in itself. [[I raise my gaze to her.]]

The intensity in her eyes makes me take in a sharp breath. The sound from my mouth conjures up the smallest of smiles on her. The way she wets her lips with the tip of her tongue makes me question if the reason I’m here is merely the lyre. “Do you trust me?” she asks. [[“No?”]] [[“Yes?”]]

I would be a fool to trust her. She snorts out a laugh. “Good. But…” She shifts closer to me, her thigh touches mine. “Will you trust me just tonight?” “Do I have to?” “If you want me to teach you, yes.” I could leave. But I’m intrigued. “...Fine. I trust you for tonight.” Darkness devours her gaze. It almost makes me regret my decision to trust her. Almost. There’s a pause. She keeps looking at me. Our thighs remain in contact. [[Grab her by her thigh.]] [[“What are you thinking?”]] [[I feel a little shy.]]

For whatever reason, I do trust her. I want to trust her. It might be a mistake. She gives me a small shake of her head. Disappointment seeps from her demeanor. Due to my decision to trust her? But, instead of vocalizing it, she says: “It will make this easier.” She shifts closer to me, her thigh touches mine. There’s a pause. She keeps looking at me. Our thighs remain in contact. [[Grab her by her thigh.]] [[“What are you thinking?”]] [[I feel a little shy.]]

I grab her soft thigh and challenge her with my gaze. Surprise mixed in with aversion flashes through her face. [[Let go of her.]] [[Keep my hand on her thigh.]]

Her gaze softens as quickly as it hardened. “I’m sorry,” I say. She shakes off my apologies. “I prefer to remain in control.” Then, she looks at me, asks if that is something I’m comfortable with. It seems she won’t be flexible about this. For now. So, I give her a nod. She can take the reins. “Good. Now... Have you ever been with a woman?” she asks. [[“Yes.”]] [[“No.”]]

“I prefer to remain in control,” she says, annoyance seeping into her words. Of course she does. It seems she won’t be flexible about it. For now. I let go of her. “Fine. Take the reins.” “With pleasure. Now... Have you ever been with a woman?” she asks. [[“Yes.”]] [[“No.”]]

“That you talk too much,” she mutters. Her voice is low, almost husky in tone. Her gaze is captured by my lips. Self-consciousness tries to take over me, tries to force my tongue out to wet my lips. My throat turns dry. “Have you ever been with a woman?” she asks. [[“Yes.”]] [[“No.”]]

I put my hair behind my ear and try to cool my nerves under her scrutinizing gaze. She smiles at me. At my gesture? “Do that again.” “What?” “Play with your hair.” Her words are demanding but her gaze is soft. I look away. “Look at me.” I obey. There’s the slightest tilt of her head as she looks at me, waiting for me to obey her command. I put another strand of hair behind my ear as my cheeks flush with heat under her gaze. “You’re beautiful,” she mutters. "Thank you..." “Have you ever been with a woman?” she asks. [[“Yes.”]] [[“No.”]]

Intrigue flashes through her eyes. “Truly?” When I confirm it with my gaze, she raises her chin and gives me a half smirk. It’s as if she’s accepting the challenge of besting all my previous lovers. “Have you?” I ask. “No,” she answers truthfully. However, the fact doesn't dim the light of her determination. Determination to please me? I can’t help but smile at the thought. [[Continue|camilla touchy]]

A warm smile lingers on her lips. “Me neither.” “Are you nervous?” she whispers. Whatever my answer is, it’ll be a secret between us. [[“Yes.”|woman1]] [[“No.”|woman2]]

I feel safe with her. Safe here, below the ground, away from prying eyes. Just the two of us. The smile on her lips is pleased. [[Continue|camilla touchy]]

I am. Nervousness cracks my voice in half. A part of me fears her judgment. And that fear makes me flinch as her finger caresses my cheek. But her touch is gentle, careful. “No need.” Another attentive whisper. Her words, her touch, it all but melts my anxiety away. [[Continue|camilla touchy]]

All the while keeping an eye contact with me, she slips her hand underneath my tunic. It burns my naked skin, it makes me flinch in surprise. “Before we continue…,” she says with her gaze lingering on my lips. “We need to decide how you’ll communicate if you want me to stop.” “‘No’ doesn’t cut it?” “It needs to be a tune you can hum. I might need to gag you in the future.” “You need to what?” She just smiles. Deviously. “Hm. We can stick with the ‘no’, for now.” She shifts on her seat. “Sit on my lap.” [[“No. You should sit on my lap.”]] [[Obey.]] [[Hesitate.]]

An amused breath of air leaves her nostrils. “No.” “Why not?” “You can’t play with your lyre.” Right. The lyre. I suppose I’ll have to play by her rules. She gives me a side eye and a knowing smile. “What?” She doesn’t answer. Instead, she pats her lap, silently ordering me to obey her will. And I do. Reluctantly. When my naked skin touches the cloth of her dress, she grabs my hair and pulls me back to lean on her shoulder. Surprise and mild pain makes me yelp. “Disobedience.” A low growl. She yanks my hair a little harder. [[Taunt her to do her worse.]] [[“No!”]] [[It hurts but… I seem to like it?]]

She quickly lets go of my hair. Right. That was our safe word. [[“I didn’t mean you actually have to stop.”]] [[“I don’t like pain.”]]

Without delay, I sit on her lap. Obeying her comes easy for me, it’s almost automatic. I still hold my breath when my naked skin touches the cloth of her tunic, not sure what to expect from her. “Very good,” she says as she starts to trace the lines of my hips with her fingers. Her touch is gentle, almost caring, but there still lurks the underlying fear of it turning rougher. "Just keep acting like a good girl and nothing bad will happen." [["Now play for me, little barbarian."]]

I look at her lap and hesitate. “I’m not going to eat you,” she says. Somehow it doesn’t sound convincing at all. Finally, I give in and sit on her lap. I hold my breath when my naked skin touches the cloth of her tunic, not sure what to expect from her. “Very good,” she says as she starts to trace the lines of my hips with her fingers. Her touch is gentle, almost caring, but there still lurks the underlying fear of it turning rougher. "Just keep acting like a good girl and nothing bad will happen." [["Now play for me, little barbarian."]]

“I told you that ‘no’ doesn’t cut it.” “I’m new to this…” She lets out an amused sigh. “Shall we continue?” I give her a nod. [["Now play for me, little barbarian."]]

“Then you shouldn’t disobey me.” She shrugs, as if she can’t control the rules she’s made up. “Shall we continue?” I give her a nod even if I fear she might hurt me again. “Say ‘no’ and I will stop,” she says, probably to soothe my nerves. [["Now play for me, little barbarian."]]

Her breath caresses the skin of my ear. \<<if $lutist is true>> And I do. The lyre is not so different to the harp I’m used to. The sound is as delicate, the notes as warm and strong. “Surprising,” she mutters as she breathes against the side of my neck. It tickles, it’s distracting. It makes me play the wrong note. The lyre screeches in pain. “You’re distracting me.” “Yes,” she says. \<<else>> …I try. And the lyre screeches in pain. My body jolts with the rhythm of Camilla’s laughter. “Dreadful. It’s like listening to the lamentations of Hector.” “Hector who? Besides, that’s rude.” “Dreadfully sorry.” A smile rings through her words, she fails to sound sorry at all. <</if>>\ [[Continue|camilla grab]]

Her taking such a dominant role in this situation sends tingles down my belly. The pain makes me gasp for air as I feel myself getting wetter. “Good girl, recognize your place.” “Yes,” I find myself replying in a hushed tone. “Do you like it when I hurt you?” “I… like it,” I admit. She chuckles. “Such a good girl. But I’ll only hurt you when you deserve it, alright?” I nod. [["Now play for me, little barbarian."]]

“Do you call that pulling?” I ask as my scalp whinges in pain. “Ha! Of course you’d say that, you little shit.” But, my taunts don’t provoke her to do her worst. Instead, she lets go of my hair. She starts to trace the lines of my hips with her fingers. The touch is gentle, as if she's rebelling against my taunt. [["Now play for me, little barbarian."]]

Then, her hand dives beneath my tunic to find my breasts. Without a warning, she squeezes my nipple with her fingers. The lyre falls on the ground with a thump. The nipple is between her nails. And she pinches. [[Wince.]] [[“That hurts!”]] [[Remain silent.]]

I try to flee her touch but her grab on me is strong. Her arms hold me in place seemingly with little effort. “You can’t flee. You can try.” [[Continue|lower camilla]]

“I know,” she whispers in my ear. She caresses my other breast roughly with her palm. Her hot breath against the back of my neck creates a stark contrast with the pain she’s inflicting on me. [[Continue|lower camilla]]

I bite my lip to silence the wince trying to force its way out. “Good,” she whispers in my ear. Another surge of pain shoots from my ear. Her hot breath heats my ear as she bites my ear lobe. [[Endure it.]]

“Such a good girl.” Another whisper. A weird sense of pride almost makes me smile. Pride over enduring the pain she’s causing me. [[Continue|lower camilla]]

Her hand wanders lower on my naked skin. Quickly enough, her deft fingers find my clit. My body stiffens, I’m half afraid that she’s going to hurt me there, too. A whisper soothes my nerves: “Don’t be afraid.” Then, without a warning, her fingers slip inside me. They go in easily, the sound of my wetness drowns underneath my low moan. She chuckles against my hair as she slowly starts to move her fingers. The tempo is benevolent at first. She takes her time, lets me get used to the feeling of her inside me. Another finger slips in, making me writhe with pleasure. Then, she grabs my thigh and starts thrusting me with force. Quicker and quicker, she fucks me with her fingers. [[She pulls my hair.]]

It makes me moan inboth surprise and pleasure. Pain forces me to focus only on her, only on her fingers inside me. On her body against me. Satisfied at my reaction, she lets go of my hair and grabs my thigh again, keeping me in place as she picks up the speed. Pressure starts building up inside me with every thrust of her fingers as the sounds of my wetness fill the silence of the wine cellar. She frees my thigh from its clutches and assaults my clit without mercy. She rubs me with her hand, fucks me with another. I can’t take it anymore. “Good girl,” she purrs. I’m coming. [[Cover my mouth and whimper.]] [[Yell in pleasure.]]

Bashfulness, or fear of being found out, guides my hand to cover my noises of pleasure. She holds me through my tremors with her face buried in my hair, with her fingers still caressing my clit. Finally, slowly, my panting subsides. But she doesn’t let me go just yet. She keeps holding onto me, hugging me. She grants me the time to recover in her warmth. [[Finally, I reclaim my place beside her.]]

Without a thought, without a sense of shame, I let the wave of pleasure take me with it. Camilla keeps rubbing me until my clit is sore and tender. Finally, she stops. I remain in her lap, breathing heavily. She keeps holding onto me, hugging me. She grants me the time to recover in her warmth. [[Finally, I reclaim my place beside her.]]

I straighten my tunic and give her a quick glance. Her gaze follows my every movement. [[“I thought you’d be rougher.”]] [[Blush and look away.|camilla blush]] [[Remain silent.|camilla silent]]

She snorts out a laugh. “I didn’t want to scare you just yet. You seem easily intimidated.” I frown. “Next time.” A cheeky promise. She stands up and straightens her own tunic. “Don’t you want me to return the favor?” I ask. It’s a matter of principle. I’ve been raised not to be indebted to anyone. “No.” [[“I don’t want to be indebted.”]]

A scoff. “Adorable.” I pout but dare not to look at her. The feeling of vulnerability still holds onto me. I try to shake it off along with my heated cheeks. She brushes my arm. “Relax. You enjoyed yourself.” Hm. I did. She stands up and straightens her own tunic. “Don’t you want me to return the favor?” I ask. It’s a matter of principle. I’ve been raised not to be indebted to anyone. “No.” [[“I don’t want to be indebted.”]]

She stands up and straightens her own tunic. “Don’t you want me to return the favor?” I ask. It’s a matter of principle. I’ve been raised not to be indebted to anyone. “No.” [[“I don’t want to be indebted.”]]

She scoffs. “You should’ve thought about it before agreeing to this.” Her smile is mocking. “You’re mean.” “And you like it.” [[“I’m merely tolerating it.”]] [[Well. Yes.]]

“Hm.” A genuine smile flashes across her face. “You need not continue tolerating it for tonight. You may leave.” "That's it?" I ask, not sure what I was expecting. “Was there something else?” [[“What about the lyre?”]] [[“What about a hug?”]] [[“I suppose not…”]]

I’m not denying her words, nor confirming them. She might have a point. A chuckle interrupts my thoughts. Camilla hides behind the hand she just fucked me with and laughs. “I wonder how you’re still alive.” “How come?” “You’re obvious. Adorable.” Well, at least I’m adorable. "Now, you may leave." "That's it?" I ask, not sure what I was expecting. “Was there something else?” [[“What about the lyre?”]] [[“What about a hug?”]] [[“I suppose not…”]]

She tilts her head at me before scoffing. “Just leave, you fool.” I give her a pout. And she pierces me with her gaze. Fine. I’ll leave. There’s a sense of urgency in her voice. We’d be struck down if found. So, I leave. But not before giving her one last glance. And she offers me a smile in return.

“I already gave you one.” “I want more.” “No.” I pout. She scoffs. "Another time. Just leave already." There’s a sense of urgency in her voice. We’d be struck down if found. So, I leave. But not before giving her one last glance. And she offers me a smile in return.

I hesitate. There’s an unbecoming feeling sneaking up on me: a feeling of being used. She sighs and takes me by my hand. I blink as she places a quick kiss on the back of it. “Happy now?” “...Yes?” She saw my discomfort. I give her half a smile. “Good. Now go.” There’s a sense of urgency in her voice. We’d be struck down if found. So, I leave. But not before giving her one last glance. And she offers me a smile in return.

“Darling, you came!” Tinsae hurries to my side and gives me a kiss on each cheek. Her lips linger on my skin for longer than is appropriate for a mere greeting. Her soft hand grazes my arm and I find myself missing its warmth when it’s gone. The smell of jasmine lingers behind when she retreats. She’s all smiles as she looks at me. It’s a wonder anyone could be so happy to see me. Her soft frame is barely covered by her pure white silk dress. It’s not proper for winter. Before I can judge her lack of clothing, however, I find my gaze lingering on her chest. It’s difficult not to. Her neckline is extremely generous and her breasts are all but squeezed together to accentuate her cleavage. [[Clear my throat and reprimand her for her lack of proper clothing.]] [[Let my gaze linger a while longer.]]

“Tinsae. It’s winter. Where are your clothes?” She shields her chest from my gaze as an instinct. Then, she gives me a sneaky smile. “Why, they are at the temple. Would you please help me find them?” I squint my eyes. She’s teasing me. “Fine. Anything to get you warm.” “Oh you can most definitely help me with that.” She lets out a teasing giggle before shivering. “But yes, it is extremely cold. Would you join me to the temple?” [[I look at the temple.]]

Icy breeze makes her nipples all too visible underneath the delicate fabric. She notices my stare, how could she not. She gives me an appreciative look over and smiles. “I can’t wait to indulge in your visage, too, my dear. But–” Winter gale interrupts her, making her visibly shiver. “I would love to continue this discussion inside. Would you join me to the temple?” [[I look at the temple.]]

It’s the same temple I visited before, the temple of Isis. I wonder what she requires of me. She’s flirtier than usual, more playful. But there’s a hint of nervousness in her step as she leads me inside. As the door opens, the smell of incense overcomes my senses. The air is filled with lingering smoke, it dances with the flames from the braziers, from the dozens of candles. An echo of a lyre surrounds us, sleepy drums join the melody. I ask before I get intoxicated by the air: [["What did you want to talk about?"]]

“I was wondering if you’d like to partake in a ritual with me,” she asks. She continues to prattle unusually nervously: “This temple might be dedicated to Isis but she doesn’t mind sharing her altar with another goddess. My goddess, Taweret.” Her tone is hesitant, she seems to be fighting against the urge to look away. I can’t help but to grimace at the thought. Twins are not known to share. “I’m not sure if I should, I have a… complicated relationship with my own gods.” “Of course.” She takes my hand. “I would never ask you anything you don’t feel comfortable with.” “What would I need to do?” “You would have to…” She hesitates. For once, she seems lost for words. She takes a breath, squeezes my hand, and says: “Would you like me to offer you as a sacrifice for my goddess?” [["Are you going to kill me?"]]

She covers her mouth in horror. “Heavens! No! I meant that I’d pleasure you on the altar and your climax would serve as an offering.” [["Oh. That sounds good to me."]] [["...You would what?"]] [["Well, that's better than the human sacrifice thing."]]

She gives me a quick look before a giggle escapes her. “I thought you’d require more convincing.” “My gods are used to blood. This is more pleasant.” My voice sounds a little thick, my throat irked by the smoke. Lightheadedness makes me want to sit down. “Many gods are. Mine adores love and nourishment. Bliss and euphoria.” She accentuates those two words as she looks me in the eyes, her gaze clouded by the smoke from the incense, candles. But there’s something else. Desire. She didn’t ask for anyone else. She wants me to be the one she offers to her goddess. [[I look at the altar.]]

She glances at the altar with some hesitation. Soon, however, with new-found confidence she looks me in the eyes. “I’m not sure if your gods require such sacrifices but mine adores love and nourishment. Bliss and euphoria.” She accentuates those two words, her gaze clouded by the smoke from the incense, candles. But there’s something else. Desire. She didn’t ask for anyone else. She wants me to be the one she offers to her goddess. “My gods usually prefer blood.” My voice sounds a little thick, my throat irked by the smoke. Lightheadedness makes me want to sit down. “Many do. I find this more enjoyable.” [[I look at the altar.]]

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve started with something less sinister-sounding.” She fixes her dress to shield her breasts a little better. It’s a futile attempt, the dress is either ill-fitting or meant to show her wearer’s assets. It’s distracting. It distracts me from the thought of lying on the altar, my heart pierced by her blade. “Please try to think of something other than me practicing human sacrifices.” “Your dress is helping with that.” A surprised giggle escapes her as she playfully strikes a pose, showcasing her chest more prominently. She shakes her head in clear relief. “I was afraid that I ruined the whole thing before it even started.” “I’m used to it. My gods prefer blood.” My voice sounds a little thick, my throat irked by the smoke. Lightheadedness makes me want to sit down. “Many do. I find this more enjoyable.” [[I look at the altar.]]

I look at the altar. I just realize there are women dressed in the same manner as Tinsae but their faces are hidden behind masks. Masks that depict an unknown beast that looks vaguely like an overweight horse. [[I'm vaguely threatened but I think I like it.]] [[This sounds good.]]

There are no daggers visible but they could easily hide them beneath their robes. “Are you absolutely sure you’re not going to kill me for your goddess?” I ask, only half-jokingly. “Of course not. Taweret would shun me if I sullied her altar with blood.” Her tone is light before she gets more serious: “You don't look well, darling. You don't need to do this if you don't want to.” I shake my head in dismissal. It’s just the atmosphere that makes me feel a little lightheaded. A little intimidated. It’s like a memory at the back of my head tries to fight its way to the surface but something is blocking it. I look at the women behind me. “Would it help if they left?” she asks. “It might help, yes.” [[I need to sit down.]]

I can’t deny that the sense of dread while looking at the altar claimed by a foreign god sends tickles down my stomach. I bite my lip and look at Tinsae. Her shoulders relax by what she sees. She takes my hand and kisses it gently, attentively, running her soft lips on my skin. “I promise that you will enjoy yourself,” she whispers so that only I can hear her. The women look at us in silence. [[They’re waiting.]]

“Alright. Do I sit on the altar or–?” Tinsae lets out a surprised laugh. It’s bright and sharp, it cuts through the smoke and the scent of spices from the incense. “Yes. Thank you for your co-operation.” “Not a problem at all. Anything for you.” I give her a sneaky smirk. The women look at us in silence. [[They’re waiting.]]

“Are these people going to watch?” I ask. “Their chants will establish the connection to Taweret quicker, and make it stronger.” [["I would rather they leave."|cultists be gone]] [["I don't mind..."][$cultists to true]] [["This is perverted. I like it."][$cultists to true]]

Tinsae gives them a nod and they disappear into the shadows. The music still lingers but it sounds fainter, as if the musicians retreated to give us space, too. It feels more intimate. It’s just me and her. No. Not just us. I feel someone’s presence in the air. It’s faint but it’s there. It must be Taweret. It’s a little intimidating to be offered to a god that is not my own. I wonder if the Twins would approve. “Are you thinking of your own gods?” “A little,” I admit. “I’m sure they’d approve.” Hm. Perhaps. [[She points at the altar. "If you please."]]

I make myself comfortable and try to ignore the memories of my old sacrifices to the Twins. Critters, livestock… The ones whose fate was bloodier than mine will be. Hopefully. It’s not that I regret what I’ve done, I’ve done it all in the service of the Twins. It was necessary. It was– In between my musings of my past deeds, I flinch as Tinsae’s warm fingers graze my naked skin. She takes my pants off with such masterful swiftness that I can’t help but to shiver at the sensation of being completely exposed. She gives me a quick smile and guides my legs apart with a gentle touch, positioning herself in between. Her soft chest fills my vision, her flowery perfume fights for dominance over the incense and smoke. It all happens so quickly. She leans to me and caresses my cheek. “Trust me. Trust me to keep you safe.” The scent of her breath mingles with the scent of frankincense and spices. There’s something exotic in the air, something warm and spicy. Cardamom. I breathe her in, breathe the scents of her goddess in. My own gods smell of pine, leaves, and blood, this is… Pleasant. “Just like that. Just relax.” Her whisper warms the crook of my neck, sending tingles down to my belly, lower. Lower. The smoke, the smells… Her. It all lulls me into a state of half-slumber. [["Focus on me."]]

The lyre and the drum compose her silken-soft voice into a song. I draw in breath as her finger starts tracing down. Down. Down. All the way to my groin. I realize that I'm already fully aroused. <<if $sex is "male">> She caresses the tip of my erection, making me wince. <<elseif $sex is "female">> She caresses my wet folds, making me wince. <</if>> I didn’t even realize the level of my arousal. It’s the smoke. It’s the distant music. <<if $cultists is true>> It’s the chanting. It’s the feeling of being watched that almost overwhelms me. They see everything Tinsae does to me. Every touch is scrutinized, judged, admired, envied. They want to be in my place. <</if>> “Focus on me,” she whispers again, drawing my attention back to her. [[Fondle her breasts.]] [[Stay put and wait for what happens next.]]

My breath is ragged and my limbs are heavy as I rip her dress down, exposing her naked skin to the smoky air. She draws in breath, moans in surprise. I massage her breasts roughly, rougher than I intended. She rushes in to kiss me in return. The kiss is fervent, pious, she wants to please both me and her goddess. She makes for an excellent devotee. Finally, when we break from the kiss, she breathes me in with her panting. “You’re good,” she purrs. I smile at the compliment. She gives me a quick kiss with a smirk. “But so am I.” [[Then, she dives in between my legs.]]

I’m hesitant to move. I fear it might break whatever spell I’m under. Tinsae smiles at my uncertainty. “Everything is alright.” <<if $sex is "male">> Then, she pushes down on my shaft, making me drawn in a quick breath that turns into a groan. She drinks in my reaction, a satisfied smile dancing on her lips. She leans in as she pulls down my cock again. She whispers: <<elseif $sex is "female">> Then, she pushes a finger inside me, making me draw in a quick breath. It slides in all too easily. She drinks in my reaction, a satisfied smile dancing on her lips. She leans in as she eases in another finger. She whispers: <</if>> “You look so gorgeous when pleasure takes over you.” Before I can search for an answer, she sticks her tongue at me. [[Then, she dives in between my legs.]]

I look at the masked women. The thought of them looking while Tinsae pleasures me is intriguing but also unnerving. Tinsae smiles. “I’m glad. It’ll make things easier.” “I’m not used to this,” I say. “I’d have questions if you were.” She smiles. [[She points at the altar. "If you please."]]

I haven’t been in a situation like this before. At least I think I haven’t. Perhaps I’ve suppressed my previous sex cult memories. I smirk to myself. The presence of the bystanders feels naughty. The thought of them looking while I’m being pleasured by Tinsae is delectable. Tinsae lets out a little laugh. “No, this is not perverted at all. This is divine.” “Whatever you say.” [[She points at the altar. "If you please."]]

<<if $sex is "male">> Her long, burning strokes along my shaft makes me squeeze the cold edges of the altar. <<elseif $sex is "female">> Her long burning strokes along my clit makes me squeeze the cold edges of the altar. <</if>> She’s good, she knows full well what she’s doing. [[Caress her hair.]] [[Pull her hair.]]

<<if $sex is "female">> She hums against my groin when my hand lands on her coarse hair. I brush her hair as she licks me. I fight the urge to guide her movements. I let her lead. As a reward for my compliance, she starts fucking me faster and faster with her fingers. <<elseif $sex is "male">> I brush her hair as she pleasures me. Her head bobs on my dick and I fight the urge to guide her movements. I let her lead. As a reward for my compliance, she picks up the speed, fucking me faster and faster with her hand. <</if>> [[She continues.]]

Her hair is coarse against my hand as I pull it, almost too hard. She lets out a pained moan against my groin. “Do you like that?” My whisper is raspy, low, almost a growl, almost unfamiliar. Hearing her pained moan makes me want to yank her hair even harder, to make her whine against me. But I stop my hand. The thought feels… blasphemous. Her goddess wouldn’t accept me hurting her disciple. Better not try my luck. This time. [[She continues.]]

<<if $cultists is true>> Sounds of wetness drown beneath the music, the chanting. I’m only barely aware that there are people here watching us. I pant but I can barely hear it. It's too sweet, too– <<else>> Sounds of wetness fill the otherwise silent temple. That, and my labored panting. It's too sweet, too– <</if>> “She’s coming,” Tinsae hums against my groin. [[I'm coming.]]

A sense of bliss starts to take over me. Warmth spreads in me, it fills me, it drowns me in comfort. Something caresses my cheek, and I lean into it. My eyes are closed but I know it’s not Tinsae. I lean into the warmth, I don’t feel afraid. Tinsae’s tongue guides me into Taweret’s arms and she welcomes me without hesitation. The sense of impossible bliss floods through me as I sink into her. Climax overfloods me. And she accepts me as her offering. [[Moan.|tin moan]] [[Whimper.|tin whimper]] [[Groan|tin groan]]

Pleasure flees my mouth without restraints. I care not if someone hears, if someone judged me for it, there’s only the immense pleasure that drowns me in it. I hold onto something. Something soft, warm, and safe. [[The sound of my voice draws me back to the temple.]]

The whimper I let out is small, but not smaller than I feel while being embraced by a goddess. I try to drown my voice but it’s almost impossible. I bury my face in something soft, warm, safe. I hold onto them while the waves of pleasure flood through me. [[The sound of my voice draws me back to the temple.]]

A groan escapes me, low in tone, deeply satisfied. I grab onto something, partly hoping it’s not the goddess who just embraced me. It’s something soft, warm, and safe. Something I can grab onto if I need to. [[The sound of my voice draws me back to the temple.]]

I blink, the smoke still stings my eyes. <<if $cultists is true>> It takes a moment to realize that the others are gone. The temple is empty and the music has ceased. Tinsae is still here, holding me in her arms. <<else>> I wake up in Tinsae’s arms. She sits with me on the altar, her hand playing with my hair. <</if>> I snuggle myself a little closer to her, taking in her warmth, the safety. Silence lingers between us as I regain my senses. Finally, Tinsae breaks the comfortable peace: [["Taweret was most pleased with you, darling."]]

A proud smile rings through her words. “You looked like you enjoyed yourself, too.” [[Deny it.|tin denial]] [["It was nice."]] [["I saw her."]]

“I’m glad to hear it.” She places a tender kiss on top of my head and stands up. “It was lovely for me, too. You’re lovely.” She smiles. Before I can answer, she takes my hand. “Let’s go. You need to go back home.”

“I didn’t,” I lie. “Whatever you say.” She places a playful kiss on top of my head and stands up. “I hope it wasn’t too terrible.” “Not too bad.” She giggles and takes my hand. “Let’s go. You need to go back home.”

“You did?” Surprise coats her words. “How was she?” “Warm.” She smiles. “She is exactly that.” She places a tender kiss on top of my head and stands up. “I hope to hear more of your encounter later. However, now you need to get back home.”

Short story context: “Oh, please. I could lift that rock. Easily,” Marcus’s voice claims. “Well, I already did. And I can confidently say that you couldn’t,” Niall answers. I peek from the doorway to see them puffing their chests at each other. Different sized goblets and snacks litter the table. “You’re full of shit. Let’s go outside right now.” Marcus stands up. “Now? But it’s cold...” “Are you from the North or Petraea?” Just as Niall is starting to defend himself, his eyes find mine and his face lightens up. Marcus turns to me and smirks. “Well, look at you, sneaking up on people like a little rat you are.” Niall punches Marcus on his arm. “Don’t call Hati a rat.” “But of course, my deepest apologies.” Marcus rubs his arm, his words oozing sarcasm. “You asked me here. Have you two been drinking?” I ask the obvious. “No,” Niall starts before looking at the goblets. “A little,” he corrects himself. “It’s a good thing you’re here, moron. I was getting bored.” “You don’t have to start acting mean just because Hati is here.” Marcus frowns. “I don’t act mean. I… You know what? Fuck off. Both of you.” “Are your pent-up emotions overflowing? Is it the alcohol?” I ask innocently. Marcus’s eye twitches. “My what?” Niall shoots me with a stealthy smirk. “Anyway! Sit down, Hati, we’re both glad you came.” Marcus opens his mouth to say something but decides against it. He slumps on his chair with a frown on his face. Niall offers him a plate of cheese. “You need to remember to eat. You’ll feel better.” Marcus rolls his eyes but still shoves some offered cheese in his mouth. Niall sits next to me. “I bought this bottle of alcohol from a merchant who claimed it’s from Serica. It’s a gift for Marcus but I’m sure he’s willing to share.” I smell the alcohol and grimace. The smell is strong, stronger than any alcohol I’ve smelled before. “What is this poison?” “It’s exactly that. I did a taste test on Marcus.” Niall pokes Marcus on his side whose frown deepens. “He seems to be alive still.” Niall smiles at me. “I thought that you’d like to join our little drinking game.” “Are you sure this is not poison?” “Hati. Don’t you trust me?” I give him a long look. I don’t want to say I don’t but– Niall nods. “Say no more, my friend, say no more. I will taste it. Then, if I live, you can join us.” I shrug and he takes it as a yes. “Propino tibi!” Niall exclaims and downs a small glass of the poison. The liquid fills his cheeks as his eyes widen. “Swallow, you fool,” Marcus says. Niall’s eyes fill with water as he squeezes his hands into tight fists. Finally, just when I’m sure he’s about to spit it out, he swallows. “By Morrigan’s ass cheeks!” he shouts. Irritation flashes through me. “Keep Morrigan’s ass cheeks out of your mouth!” I will not tolerate such blasphemy! “You’re right, I’m sorry, I–” Marcus starts laughing. “Hati. What did you say?” “I said–” Then, I realize what I said. Heat rushes to the tips of my ears. “It was metaphorical!” “So I could literally take a bite out of the old crow’s sweet cheeks and you’d be fine with it?” “I will wipe the blasphemous grin out of your–” Niall claps his hands. “Alright! Let’s begin the game!” He pours some of his poison into three glasses. “So, the rules are as follows: We take turns and ask the other to do something. A dare, if you will. If they don’t do the thing, they have to down the pois– I mean the drink.” Marcus raises his brow at him. “Really? Drink or dare with Hati?” “Yes? What’s wrong with that? It’s a fun game.” “Sure. Your funeral.” Marcus smirks. I shoot Marcus another evil eye before turning to Niall. “I’m not sure I like the sound of this.” “Hati. Please. For Yule.” “Yule is about gifts and food and family.” “And drinking,” Niall adds. “Drinking gifts!” I sigh. “Fine. Just one round.” Niall grins victoriously. “Great! Who starts?” Marcus says, “You, obviously. This was your idea.” “Alright. What do you need me to do?” Marcus has an evil grin on his face. This is not going to end well. “Kiss Hati,” he orders. Niall frowns. “What?” “Kiss Hati.” “Why would you want to see that?” I ask. “What’s wrong with you?" “Just do it, Tribune.” However, Niall has already emptied his glass before he can even decline the offer. He coughs at the taste and tries to act like nothing of note happened. Marcus laughs. “That was fast!” I try not to pout. He didn’t have to act like the thought is wholly offensive to him. “Look, you made Hati sad,” Marcus mocks him. “I’m not sad. I didn’t want to kiss him either.” Niall tilts his head, and something flashes through his features before he nods. “Right. No kissing dares, Marcus.” Marcus sighs. “Fine. Whatever. Boring cunts. My turn now.” A few turns pass us by and no one is willing to do the dares. I asked Marcus to kiss Niall, Marcus asked me to remove my clothes, Niall asked Marcus to shut up. (Of course, Marcus refused to be silenced.) Everyone would rather drink than do the dares. The alcohol is indeed strong. Slowly, however, I’ve grown to appreciate the taste. It’s fruity and exotic, its aroma is intoxicating in itself. I don’t mind it. But I also think I shouldn’t indulge it for longer. My head feels a little too light for my liking. “Niall,” Marcus’s words slur slightly. “Kiss Hati.” “Again with that?” Niall groans. “No. I refuse. You can’t just keep asking the same thing over and over.” Niall refuses to look at me as he continues to reject me. He looks a little ill by the thought. Or is it the alcohol? How rude. Am I that unkissable? I know I shouldn't be offended, I'm trying my best not to. I turn my squinting gaze to Marcus who looks altogether too pleased with himself. He’s always playing his shitty little games with that shitty little grin glued to his face. “I can and I will, Lord Tribune. I will ask you until you–” But he can’t continue the thought, since I grab the neck of his tunic and smash my lips against his. A surprised hum vibrates against my numb skin. A scent of leather with a hint of something floral mixes in with the alcohol in his breath. The scent of Marcus. I yank him closer to me, almost violently, all but refusing to process what I’m doing. I was supposed to exact revenge on Niall for acting like the thought of kissing me repulsed him. However, I’m not sure if I thought this through. I’m almost certain that I didn’t. Marcus’s lips are tight against mine, and it takes only a moment to realize that he’s smiling. No. Not smiling. Grinning. I can feel his shitty grin against my lips. I push him away and stifle a yelp of disgust. Disgust towards myself, towards him, towards this whole game. Without thinking, I just down another drink without anyone even asking me to do that. Anything to take my mind off what I did and to drown the taste of him still lingering on my lips. Marcus laughs. Of course he does. “You know what, Hati? That’s what I love about you. You’re such a force of chaos. Niall, don't you agree?” Niall quickly looks away when our gazes meet. “Uh. Whose turn is it?” Marcus chuckles. “Mine.” “I don’t think we should continue…” I rub my face and grimace at the sensation: my flesh is numb. “We absolutely should, we’ll play this until someone passes out.” [[Continue|niallcontinue]]

I make a move but as I get up, my drunken feet fail me. A mistake. With the speed of a predator Marcus meets me halfway and locks my arms to my sides. Niall gasps, takes a step towards us. But Marcus’s eyes are only on me. I expect to see the same smugness that's always there. After all, he trapped me, he must be thrilled. However, what I see makes me frown. There’s a layer of hesitation in his gaze. ‘Are you sure?’ he seems to ask me. He dares to ask me if I’m sure? He should be thankful that I even consider kissing him. That the mere thought doesn’t make me gag in disgust. My brain is not fit for second-guessing and it’s a small blessing. So, with a determined frown on my face, I lean into him and kiss him. It’s barely a peck, hesitant, there’s a thick layer of loathing and repulsion. Repulsion towards him, towards myself, towards the whole situation. I shouldn’t be doing this. He squeezes my hands, but not so hard that it would hurt. He’s vigilant about his movements, his strength, how he holds me. With just enough strength that I can’t move but I could if I truly wanted to. [[I’m not brittle, he’s too careful. I should provoke him.]] [[I don’t know what I’m doing.]]

It’s almost an insult, to think that he wouldn’t manhandle me like he’s supposed to. Like he wants to. Like I want him to. I nibble on his lip, pondering on the possibility of biting harder, making him bleed. He takes a step back, he must’ve sensed the animal in me. There’s a small smile on his face. A smile, not a grin. “Can’t wait to draw blood?” “You’d deserve it.” “Indeed,” he muses and lets me go. A hint of disappointment flashes through me before I realize why he let go. [[I can feel Niall's eyes on me.]]

Neither does he. I expected him to release the animal within, to devour me like he clearly wants to. Heat rushes to my cheeks. Did I want that? I did. And that’s worrying. He takes a step back, letting me go. I expect him to taunt me for blushing but there’s no mockery in his gaze. He gives me a small smile, almost apologetic. A hint of disappointment flashes through me before I realize why he let go. [[I can feel Niall's eyes on me.]]

Did he watch us the whole time? Judging by the deep hue of redness on his cheeks, he did. But where I expected to see flustration, there’s only a frown. [[Give him a smile as a challenge.]] [[Wait for his move.]]

‘You had your chance,’ I say with my sneaky smile. He looks at my lips, the smug smile. The frown on his face turns into that of determination. He closes the distance between us in one stride and I gasp as he pins me against a wall. “My turn,” he murmurs against my lips, and kisses me. Deeply, with less control than I anticipated, with much more hunger. It’s as if all the pent up energy from the night is released, poured into the kiss. He squeezes my shoulders with too much strength. A pained whine meets his lips and he breaks the kiss to look at me, his heated gaze filled with worry. “I’m sorry! I was too–” But I don’t let him finish his apologies. I shut his mouth with mine, his words turning into a string of mumbling, into a moan. [[Marcus is looking at us.]]

A frown? He wants to kiss me but he’s too afraid? I open my mouth as a silent invitation. And something snaps within him. He closes the distance between us in one stride and I gasp as I’m pinned against a wall. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs against my lips, and kisses me. Deeply, with less control than I anticipated from him, with more hunger. It’s as if all the pent up energy from the night is released, poured into the kiss. He squeezes my shoulders with too much strength. A pained whine meets his lips and he breaks the kiss to look at me, his heated gaze filled with worry. “I’m sorry! I was too–” But I don’t let him finish his apologies. I shut his mouth with mine, his words turning into a string of mumbling, into a moan. [[Marcus is looking at us.]]

Marcus leans against the wall with a smile on his face. He’s been watching us the whole time. There's dark hunger in his gaze that wasn't there before and when our gazes meet, he quickly shoves Niall off of me. He kisses me, more hungrily this time, more like the wolf he is. He holds me in place with his hand on my throat. His fingers twitch against my skin, he wants to choke me but there’s a forced restraint denying him of the right. [[Try to bite his lip. Make him angry.]] [[Swat his hand away.]]

Do I want him to hurt me? Yes. He’s already hurt me so much, what’s a little more? I suck on his lip and prepare for a bite. But before I can, he squeezes my throat, making me gasp for air. I laugh against his lips with my last breath and his lips tighten; he’s smiling, too. Before I can revel in the lack of air, however, Niall pushes Marcus off me. He doesn’t spare Marcus a gaze, he’s only looking at me. He couldn’t wait his turn like the good boy I expected him to be. [[Continue|niall grind]]

He thinks he’s in control? Think again. I swat his hand away and lock his arms. He looks surprised, not unpleasantly so. A grin. Eager to see what I have in mind. I kiss him, grind my hips against him. He’s as eager as I am, his cock rubbing my naked skin, eager for attention. I break the kiss and look at Niall. As if on cue, Niall pushes Marcus off me. He couldn’t wait his turn like the good boy I expected him to be. [[Continue|niall grind]]

Niall, his face red with heat, pushes his hips against me, making sure I know how hard, and big, he is. Eager to please, Niall’s hands wander beneath my tunic. He slides his soft hands on my naked skin, making shivers run through me. He kisses my neck, tasting me, giving me gentle little nibbles. His hair smells like flowers. [[Be in control.|niall control]] [[Submit. Someone’s hand slips inside my pants.]]

It’s easy to find Niall’s fully erected cock due to his short tunic. Easy access, I smile and look at Marcus. Niall groans against my neck as I give him a good squeeze. Marcus’s eyes slit at the sound. “Good boy,” I whisper in Niall’s hair, meaning every word, all the while holding an eye contact with Marcus. All the while smiling. Frustration makes Marcus sneer as he grabs my free hand and needily guides it to his cock. It twitches at my touch but I won’t give him the satisfaction. Yet. “Wait your turn,” I smile and take my hand back. He can’t argue against me, he wouldn’t dare. There’s too much baggage, I have all the power and he should never forget it. Niall is molden wax against me, leaning into me, struggling to make sure that he won’t lean in too heavily. I give him a stroke, another, and revel at his little groans, revel at his weight pushing me against the wall. Marcus’s eye contact never breaks as he starts to stroke himself with jealous, angry spite in his gaze. He jerks in frustration as he starts to jack off at the sight of me pleasuring Niall, hoping he’d be allowed to take his place. I smile. Fine. I’m nothing if not gracious. I give Niall a quick, deep kiss, making him moan against my mouth. I break the kiss and whisper: “I need to fuck your brother now.” He answers in a whimper, his massive body writhing in frustration. I grab Marcus’s cock and he grins victoriously. I give him a squeeze and the smirk disappears. “I’m going to fuck you now, you little shit of a Centurion,” I growl. \<<if $sex is "male">> I bend him over and bare his ass, give it a good squeeze to make him curse against the wall. I'm going to enjoy this. <</if>>\ [[“Hati?”]]

I’m not sure who’s behind it. Niall’s head blocks the view as he kisses my neck. My moan is cut short by Marcus’s lips. So many hands roam on my skin, calloused and soft, both fighting against the urge to hurt me, the other growing rougher, needier, the other worshiping my naked skin. The kisses are broken when Niall turns me around and my cheek is against the wall. “I’ll be very careful,” he whispers in my ear. “Tell me if it hurts.” I draw in a sharp breath and lock eyes with Marcus. He waits his turn patiently, his gaze as dark as the moonless night. He strokes himself, his hand lazily gliding on his hard cock. He gives me an evil grin. “Let Niall open you up.” Niall lifts my tunic. Another sharp breath as his cock touches my entrance. I tense, afraid of its size. Who thought it was a good idea to let Niall start? Niall caresses my back, whispers words of encouragement and how he will be ever so careful. Then, he starts to ease in. Slowly, carefully, so afraid that he’ll hurt me. His fingers squeeze my flesh. It almost hurts too good. He’s too big. I– [[“Hati?”]]

“You really can’t hold your alcohol.” Marcus look at me. “What?” I frown. “Are you alright?” Niall asks. His flustered gaze makes me blink. He was so confident just a few moments ago, his big co– Oh no. “You, uh, passed out.” “Oh.” Heat rushes to my cheeks. I look at Marcus and instantly regret it: my skin tingles where his hands were just a moment ago. Niall rubs the back of his neck. “You were… having nightmares.” “Oh. Yes. Nightmares.” Marcus smirks. “You wailed like a madman. Something about Niall’s big fat co–” “Marcus, shut up,” Niall and I snap at him. Marcus cackles at us all too happily. “When did I pass out?” ‘How far did we go,’ I want to ask. “After the threesome." “Marcus!” Niall smacks the back of his head. He throws me an apologetic smile. “Nothing bad happened. I should've offered you more to eat. I’ve never had alcohol that strong.” He rubs his temples. “I think we should probably not talk about that. Never.” I nod, fully agreeing. Never. “You’re not the boss of me,” Marcus says, surprising no one. “I literally am,” Niall says. Marcus scoffs and cackles.

I like to look at Marcus. And it’s a weird thing. I haven’t forgiven him, not truly, but the hatred burning at my stomach when I looked at him before is not fully awake anymore. It’s there, gnawing, nibbling, trying to get my attention. But my attention is captured by Marcus. I just enjoy inspecting him. His well-defined jaw is relaxed, he’s not gritting his teeth like he wanted them to give in and break. A small stubble accentuates his jawline. It’s a rare sight for him, he usually wouldn’t miss his shaving rituals. The library we’re in is quiet, Marcus made sure of that. He prefers to read alone when he can. Or with me. He doesn’t squint at the text anymore, he doesn’t have to. The gift that I gave him for Saturnalia makes sure of it. It’s a little piece of glass that enhances the letters. It cost a fortune but Tinsae was more than happy to help with the cost. Really kind of her. And weirdly kind of me to come up with something that makes his life so much easier. I just wanted to help him. “Don’t look at me like that,” he says with a little smile. He smiles more these days. It makes my chest feel warm and light. [["Like what?"]]

“Like you adore me.” “Ha! As if.” It wouldn’t do any good to admit anything. His ego is too big already. “I can see it in your eyes, sweetcheeks.” Sweetcheeks? I almost roll my eyes at the new nickname. He comes up with a new one every week. “Did you want to hear this poem or not?” I give him a nod. I’ve heard him read Martial, Ovid, all of his favorites. Now, he wanted to read to me some Catullus. He clears his throat and begins: “ I’m gonna fuck you guys up the ass and shove my cock down your throats…” “Don’t jest. Is that an actual poem?” “I don’t jest when it comes to literature. As you see, Catullus has a way with words.” He smirks. “Don’t interrupt me again or I’ll punish you.” [["I'd like to see you try."]] [["I wouldn't mind."]] [[Blush.]]

“Oh, I bet you would.” Another smirk. “I’d wrestle your bratty ass in a heartbeat but I want to read now.” “You’d rather read than fight me?” “I know, the absolute travesty.” A disappointed sigh escapes me. Fighting him is fun. Seeing him flinch in pain as I grapple him is even more fun. He likes to try and punish me afterwards. Sometimes he succeeds, sometimes he doesn’t. [[He begins again:]]

“Of course you wouldn’t.” “I love it when you smack my cheeks red, daddy.” He laughs, the laugh stems from deep below his belly. It echoes loudly in the empty hall. “Daddy? Really?” I give him a small smirk. The name is even more twisted when one considers what he did to me. In the past. It feels like a lifetime ago but it’s not. A bang of guilt knives at my stomach. He sees it, for his forehead creases. “Maybe I can be your dirty uncle.” “I don’t want to call you my uncle.” “Hey, you started this.” Can't argue with that. [[He begins again:]]

Another self-satisfied smirk. He’s always loved to see me blush and it still annoys me to no end. “You’d like that, huh?” “Shut up.” “Should I spank you till your cheeks are red?” “Shut up!” He chuckles to himself, all too content over our little game that we always play. I can’t help but feel a little giddy over the exchange. It’s familiar. Almost safe. [[He begins again:]]

He begins again: “I’m gonna fuck you guys up the ass and shove my cock down your throats… yes, you, Aurelius - you fucking cocksucker – and you too, Furius, you effeminate bugger! Just because my verses are tender doesn’t mean that I’ve gone all soft.” And I interrupt him again: “Is Catullus mad because someone called him soft? Because he writes poems?” “There are men who think that makes you less of a man. You know this.” “Not you, though?” “Of course not.” “So, you’d feel comfortable with composing a love poem for me?” I smirk at the thought. I wonder if he’s actually good at writing poems. I still haven’t heard of his own compositions and the thought intrigues me. “Naturally,” he says but there’s a hint of redness lingering on his cheeks. “Do you want me to?” “Maybe I would…” I give him a smile, I can’t help it. “Maybe I will write you one.” “Maybe I’d be happy about it,” I say. The exchange is awfully playful. Too cute. Too soft. Giddiness tugs at my lips. “Uh, anyway. I don’t see how threatening Aurelius with a good time is going to make him stop those accusations,” I jest. Marcus laughs. “So you wouldn’t mind if Catullus showed up to your door, threatening to fuck you in the ass?” [["Definitely not."]] [["Mind your language."]] [["Would you?"]]

Another laugh, effortless, natural. Already weirdly familiar. “Of course you wouldn’t.” “Catullus was a looker,” I defend myself. I’ve seen his bust in Marcus’s office. “Really? I prefer Martial.” “Of course you do, you’re always talking about him. Should I be jealous?” “Maybe you should.” “You would’ve bent your butt to him if he was alive and came knocking at your door?” “Darling, that’s for me to know and for you to imagine before sleep welcomes you.” “Maybe I will do just that.” “Maybe I don’t mind.” I almost laugh at the exchange. When did this happen? To grow so accustomed to this banter, to laugh at its jovial absurdity? [[Continue|marcus scroll]]

“Are your tender ears insulted by the words ‘fucked’ and ‘ass’?” “Yes.” “What about ‘cock’?” I sigh. “Pussy?” Another sigh. “Oh dear, I certainly picked the wrong poem to read to you.” “You just realized it?” “I would’ve never guessed.” He smirks. He guessed. “What if someone hears your rude mouth? Are we truly alone?” “I can’t promise you there won’t be peepers. Like that creepy friend of yours.” “Quinn? Don’t jest. And don’t call them creepy!” “I really am not joking about that creep– dear friend of yours.” I give him a pout. Only I can call Quinn creepy. [[Continue|marcus scroll]]

“If he fucked you? No. I’d like to watch.” “What? Really? You’re into that?” “Sure.” It’s difficult to say if he’s joking or not. “I mean, would you mind if he appeared at your door to threaten you?” “Definitely not, I’d enjoy getting railed by him.” I raise my brow at him. Again, difficult to say if he's joking or not. A respectable Roman man would never submit to another man, nor a woman. He'd be called effeminate, or something stupid like that. Unconquerable, always in control. Always the one who dominates. \<<if $sex is "male">> “I can always top you if you want to.” A smile. “Would you like that?” I ask. “I haven’t been topped before, I couldn’t say.” “That’s not a no.” “It’s not.” \<<elseif $sex is "female">> “I could always peg you if you want to?” He laughs. “Sure.” “Would you like that?” “I haven’t been pegged before, I couldn’t say.” “That’s not a no.” “It’s not.” <</if>> [[Continue|marcus scroll]]

After a few mockingly stern reprimands he returns to his scroll. His tunic is looser than usual, he’s not wearing any belt. The bulb on his throat moves as he speaks. His tone is low but it doesn’t hold the same commanding tone it usually does. It’s careful, almost tender, as if he treasures the words leaving his lips. And I smile at him. I find myself doing so more often than I would’ve ever thought myself capable. Without stumbling on his words, he smiles back at me. The action is foreign in its effortlessness. Then, the smile on my face turns wicked. [[I should tease him.]]

I lean closer as he speaks, as if I wanted to hear him better. He looks pleased by the apparent effort to focus on his words that he deems so important. Then, with control and slow movements, I fall on the floor on my knees. He pauses the poem, just for a heartbeat, before continuing with a raised eyebrow. He makes himself comfortable on the chair, almost giving me easier access to his groin. He knows. Of course he does, he’s a dirty old man. I position myself between his thighs and make myself comfortable. He doesn’t spare me a glance, he just keeps reading. He’s not wearing any trousers. How proper of him. “You think I’m a sissy just because I write about a thousand kisses?” he recites but I hardly listen. I move the tunic out of the way. He’s already eager and ready, the sight makes me smile in self-satisfaction. I glance at Marcus. Just the smallest of smiles dances on his lips. Carefully, almost too much so, I take him in my hand. “Your hands are cold,” he compaints, interrupting his flow of the poem. I stick my tongue at him, then aim it at his tip. He flinches, just a little bit, before giving me a small smug smile and continuing. Hm. A competition, then? When can I make him completely interrupt his stupid Catullus? [[Challenge accepted.]]

I lick the tip again and the cock twitches in eagerness. It’s rock hard, and completely ready for my mouth. I tease the tip some more and expect him to shut up. Alas, he doesn’t. He keeps reading like his member isn’t completely buried inside my mouth. I frown at his groin and listen to his self-important words. “Give me a thousand kisses, and then a hundred, then another thousand, then a second hundred, then another thousand without resting, then a hundred.” He gives me a mocking smile. Then, without a care in the world, he keeps talking about how many kisses Catullus wants to give to his lover. [[Grab his balls.]] [[Play nicely.]]

It’s evil. The balls are sensitive and one should always handle them with care. Not me. Not this time. I’m not here to play fairly. I’m impatient and he deserves it. “Shit!” he yells and finally stops reading when I attack his tender place. He pushes me away and shields himself from further damage. “What’s wrong with you?” I give him an evil grin. “I won.” “At what cost, you maniac? For fuck’s sake.” He looks actually miffed about this. I suppose I should say sorry. [[Never.]] [["I'm sorry?"]]

I don’t want to hurt him, I think. And it’s a weird thing. To chase those thoughts away I instead focus on his shaft: I tease it, I lick it, I wank it. I’m good and I’m obedient. For now, at least. I look at him and a content smile spreads across my lips as I notice that he’s looking down on me. His gaze is heated as words are still leaving his lips, albeit struggling. I hold eye contact as I slowly bob my head on his length. Then, I let out a muffled moan. It’s low, needy, commanding. Stop reading. The sound makes his cheeks flare up as he finally stops talking. His breath is ragged as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back. A groan, another, and his balls start to tighten. He’s coming. [["Nuh-uh. You can't come."]]

I cross my arms. He shouldn’t let me near his groin if he doesn’t want it to hurt. He deserves it. I don’t know for how long this must go on but I know that it still does. He sighs. “Really? You’re not even sorry?” “No.” “Remind me not to let you near my dick,” he mutters. “So, you don’t want to finish?” “No! Are you insane? You know what? Don’t even answer that.” He straightens his tunic. “My dick is limp and my mood is ruined.” As it should.

“Why do you sound like you’re asking if you should be sorry? For fuck’s sake,” he curses again but looks a little more mellow. Silence lingers before he says: “The apology was shit but I forgive you.” “Great.” I sound just a little sarcastic. And it makes him frown. “At least you didn’t bite.” “Do you want me to?” “Ask me first!” “But if I asked, you wouldn’t be surprised.” That's part of the fun. Besides, you didn’t ask me before you hurt me. Another deep frown. “So, you don’t want to finish?” “No! Are you insane? You know what? Don’t even answer that.” He straightens his tunic. “My dick is limp and my mood is ruined.” As it should.

“What?” He frowns. “You brat.” “I’m what?” I ask innocently as I retreat from his need. A frown, impatient, as he ponders on his options. [[He grabs my head roughly.]] [[He pleads and tries to bargain with me.]]

I barely have time to yelp weakly as he grabs my head and shoves his dick deep in my mouth. Muffled cries try to escape my throat but all of him is blocking it. He holds my head and starts to pump his hips. I can only try to control the gags caused by his roughness, breathe when I’m able to, grimace at the pain of him yanking my hair. I could bite him. I should. But I can’t deny that the feeling of being manhandled by him makes the pit of my stomach tingle. I let out a little moan, a whimper, the sound that is defenseless and used, and he groans like an appeased lion as an answer. Warm saltiness fills my throat. I pull my head back with a little frown, partly for a show. His eyes are closed as he leans on the chair. “Sorry,” he says. It’s a halfhearted apology, just for the show, he knows I could’ve punched him in the dick if I wanted to. “You need to finish me, too, you ass.” He opens his eyes, his gaze thick with pleasure. There’s a content smile dancing on his lips. “Gladly.”

“Your cruelty knows no bounds.” He sighs as his cock twitches in desperation. “You deserve it.” “I do,” he agrees all too eagerly, as if it would be his road to redemption. Then, he shifts his hips closer to me, my mouth. “I should leave you hanging,” I say with a wicked smile. “You wouldn’t. I read you poetry.” “You’ve read me poetry every night.” “Yes? Even more of a reason to pay me back.” “This is my payback.” Another pout, desperate, annoyed, and only slightly amused. His need is starting to look softer, defeated. [[Leave him hanging. It's the proper revenge.]] [["Ugh. Fine."]]

And I merely smile at the sight before crossing my arms. He shields himself with his tunic and sighs. “Are you going to keep doing this?” Indeed. This isn’t even the first time I’ve left his balls in the state of blue. “Maybe.” Another sigh, defeated, self conscious. “I deserve it.” “You do.” “I can finish myself at night.” “You can.” “But I won’t finish the poem.” “Oh, no.” My sarcasm isn’t lost on him.

I roll my eyes playfully as he and his cock perk up. As the final assault, I take his half-limp shaft completely into my mouth. He inhales a sharp breath and I start to wank him, quicker and quicker. I lick his tip aggressively, almost resentfully. “Oh, fuck, $name, you’re so good.” I let out a moan in agreement, I am doing him a favor out of goodness of my heart and I don’t know why, and he groans gratefully as he comes. He throws his head back on the chair and sighs. “You’re not so cruel, after all. I was sure you would–” “You’re lucky I had a good day. Now–” I stand up. “You have to finish me.” He opens his eyes, his gaze thick with pleasure. There’s a content smile dancing on his lips. “Gladly.”

\<<if $sex is “male”>> <<set $boy to boy>> <<if $sex is “female”>> <<set $boy to girl>> <</if>> Is Quinn a man or a woman? [[A man.|quinn_smut][$quinn_sex to "male"]] [[A woman.|quinn_smut][$quinn_sex to "female"]]

<<if $quinn_sex is "male">> <<set $q_he to "he"; $q_him to "him"; $q_his to "his"; $q_himself to "himself"; $q_He to "He"; $q_Him to "Him"; $q_His to "His">> <<elseif $quinn_sex is "female">> <<set $q_he to "she"; $q_him to "her"; $q_his to "her"; $q_himself to "herself"; $q_He to "She"; $q_Him to "Her"; $q_His to "Her">> <</if>> I look at the rope in Quinn’s hands that $q_he so proudly presents to me. “What’s with that?” “Grandma said that these ones shouldn’t chafe your skin too much. Although I also heard that some might like the chafing.” $q_He gives me an inquisitive look. “I wonder which one of those people you are.” “Now wait a moment, you told grandma of your plans? Of this?” “Yes,” $q_he says as if it’s the most natural thing in the world to share your bondage experiments with your elderly. “That’s a little weird.” “Oh? But I don’t have anyone else to ask about these things.” There’s a smile on $q_his face but it falters just slightly. “Guess I’m weird.” $q_He shrugs. “Do you like that about me?” [["Yes."|quinn_like]] [["I tolerate it."]]

There’s no denying it. There’s strangeness about $q_him, something that should be off putting, almost concerning. Something that makes me worry about $q_him, about myself. But it’s also familiar. $q_He might be weird but at least $q_he’s my weirdo. And there’s a wide smile on $q_his face as I accept $q_him as $q_he is. “Thank you.” [[Was Quinn always like this?]]

“Hm.” A smile, as if $q_he expected my answer. There’s no ill will within $q_his features. “I understand. And I appreciate your tolerance.” [[Was Quinn always like this?]]

Was $q_he always this perplexed about social norms? There are flashes of $q_him within my memory, flashes of a meek young Quinn lurking in the shadows, unsure how to act, wanting to disappear into the shadows. Yes. I think $q_he’s always been like this. The thought comforts my mind. The banter slowly dies out as we look at the ropes. [["Am I going to tie you up?"]] [["You plan on tying me up? Why?"]]

$q_He laughs but the sound is tight and off pitched. When I wait patiently for $q_his answer, a flash of panic crosses $q_his face. “Absolutely not.” “Don’t you trust me?” “Of course,” $q_he says without a moment of hesitation. “But I don’t trust myself.” I frown slightly at the answer but don’t press the issue. $q_He probably means that $q_he might hurt himself. "No. I will tie you up." $q_He continues: [["I want to tie you down and inspect you."]]

An excited smile appears on $q_his face. “I want to study you.” “How so?” [["I want to tie you down and inspect you."]]

The look in $q_his eye is eager, reminding me of a child about to dissect their first worm. When I involuntarily flinch at the thought, a comforting smile forms easily on $q_his lips. “I won’t hurt you.” “Inspect me how?” “What turns you on, of course. I need to know. I need to learn. I want to pleasure you in any way I can. I want to see what makes you scream and writhe in pleasure.” The words ring earnest as $q_he peers into my eyes. There’s not a hint of redness in $q_his cheeks despite $q_his lewd words. [[Blush and look away.|quinn_blush]] [["I want to please you, too."]]

Has $q_he always been this direct? Earnest, yes. Always speaking the truth of $q_his feelings with me. $q_He used to often say that $q_he loved me. For a long time, I thought $q_he meant it as friends love each other. But no. $q_He loves me and now, $q_he wants to tie me up and do things to me. “Your cheeks are so red,” $q_he muses as $q_he looks at them. “Shut it,” I mutter and try to shield my treacherous cheeks. So, $q_he is going to tie me up. I will be completely vulnerable and at $q_his mercy. [[I trust Quinn.]] [[Hesitate.|quinn_hesitate]]

“Oh. Oh, no.” $q_He quickly shakes $q_his head. “That won’t do. No.” $q_His words of rejection sting but the discomfort in $q_his face makes me worry about $q_him more. $q_He continues: “I just don’t feel like myself at times. Right now. And it makes things a little… difficult. In terms of… that.” $q_He stumbles over $q_his words as the previous carelessness rubs off $q_him. I put my hand on $q_his trembling hand. $q_He looks at it with a frown, like $q_he’s not sure how to feel about it. “Do you want to talk about it?” “No.” He grabs my palm into $q_his. ”What I want is to tie you up. Will you let me?” “Oh. Alright.” $q_He nods, clearly pleased that I’m not questioning $q_his logic. So, $q_he is going to tie me up. I will be completely vulnerable and at $q_his mercy. [[I trust Quinn.]] [[Hesitate.|quinn_hesitate]]

I give $q_him a firm nod. I choose to trust $q_him. $q_He would never hurt me intentionally, of that I’m sure. And $q_he gives me a wide, warm smile. “I love that you trust me.” “Did you think that I wouldn’t?” $q_He gives me a long, pondering look. “No. I didn’t. But I still love it about you.” [["So, I will hogtie you."]]

\<<set $hesitation to true>>“I’m not sure…” “$name. I promise I won’t hurt you. I will keep you safe.” $q_His tone does inspire some sense of trust in $q_him, as does $q_his seemingly sincere features. I close my eyes and am overcome by the sense of familiarity in $q_his scent. It brings me back home, back when everything was as it should be. I can trust $q_him. “Alright,” I finally say. $q_He gives me a wide smile. “You won’t regret this.” [["So, I will hogtie you."]]

“Hogtie? Like one ties cattle?” “Yes.” That sounds far from comfortable. “I will make sure you’re comfortable, don’t worry.” $q_He takes my hand to $q_his and gives it a small kiss. Then, $q_he yanks me closer. With a smile on $q_his face $q_he leans to me and says: “I will be gentle.” $q_His breathy whisper caresses my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You can trust me.” \<<if $hesitation>> I want to be able to trust $q_him. But there’s a sense of dread creeping at the back of my neck as I imagine myself at $q_his mercy, tied like an animal. “Hey,” $q_he says with a concerned look on $q_him. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” Even if it’s self-evident, $q_him saying that does bring me some comfort. I give $q_him a nod. “I think I want to do this.” “You’re sure?” “Yes.” <<else>> I nod. I do trust $q_him to keep me safe. <</if>> $q_He caresses my cheek and a smile rings in $q_his voice as $q_he says: “I love you.” Warmth shoots to my face. [["I love you, too."]] [["Thank you."]]

My voice is a whisper and I take comfort in $q_his words, $q_his touch. $q_He beams at my confession. [[Quinn takes the rope.]]

For whatever reason, I can’t say it back to $q_him. But $q_he doesn’t seem to mind, for still $q_he caresses my cheek, still $q_he looks me in the eye as if I was the most treasured thing in $q_his world. “I hope you believe me,” $q_he whispers. I nod. I do believe that $q_he loves me in $q_his own way. [[Quinn takes the rope.]]

“So,” $q_he says with a smile, “you need to be naked.” [[Hesitate.|quinn_hesitateagain]] [[I take my clothes off.]]

“Why?” “Why not? I want to see all of you.” When I still hesitate, $q_he frowns. “Is it too cold? I tried to warm this place up but if it’s–” “No, it’s fine.” I sigh and quickly take my tunic and trousers off. It’s I shield myself from $q_his gaze without thinking. “Don’t worry,” $q_he says with a small smile. “You’re the most beautiful human I’ve ever laid eyes on.” “I, uh, thank you.” $q_His words manage to relax me. [[Continue|tiemeup]]

“I hope it’s not too cold. I tried to warm this place up and–” “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” “Good,” $q_he says with an adoring smile. There’s an almost uncomfortable silence as $q_he inspects me. Finally, $q_he says: “You’re the most beautiful human I’ve ever laid eyes on.” “Thank you.” [[Continue|tiemeup]]

Then, $q_he starts to tie me up. I’m to lie down on my stomach and wait for $q_him to finish. The position is a little uncomfortable and $q_his touch is slightly uncertain. $q_He’s doing this the first time. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” I can’t help but to ask. “Of course,” $q_he says but $q_his tone doesn’t raise confidence. My wrists are soon bound together, as are my ankles. Quinn takes a step back to seemingly admire $q_his work. I cannot say for certain what $q_he’s doing, all I can do is to try and make myself comfortable with the new position I’m in. The feeling of utter helplessness takes over me as I lie on my stomach. The rope is tied a little too tight and there’s pressure building up on my chest. \<<if $hesitation>> [[I try to ignore it.]] <<else>> [[I take a deep breath.]] <</if>>\

However, quickly enough, my breath becomes more shallow, more laborious. I become all too aware that I can’t move, I can’t wiggle free and– I can’t breathe. Fear– Then, Quinn starts to caress my head. “Don’t worry.” “I–” $q_He shifts my position so I can breathe a little more easily. $q_He keeps caressing my head. “Don’t worry,” $q_he repeats. “You’re safe with me. I promise.” $q_His touch makes me relax a little. I start to breathe more easily. “Good $boy. Trust me to keep you safe.” $q_He keeps caressing my head, whispering sweet nothings. And slowly, all too slowly, I start to melt against $q_his palm, becoming more accustomed to my predicament. "Do you need any water?" $q_he whispers in my ear, making me shiver. I shake my head but the attention to my wellbeing makes me warm up even more. [[Continue|completelyatmercy]]

I take a deep breath, reminding myself that I’m in good hands. Quinn would never let anything bad happen to me. $q_He loves me. With this thought, the rising discomfort quickly subsides. “Good $boy. Trust me to keep you safe.” $q_He keeps caressing my head, whispering sweet nothings. “Do you need any water?” $q_he whispers in my ear, making me shiver. I shake my head and the attention to my wellbeing makes me warm up even more. [[Continue|completelyatmercy]]

\<<if $sex is "male">> I’m completely at $q_his mercy. The thought traps the air in my throat, and the anticipation of what comes next makes my cock twitch. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> I’m completely at $q_his mercy. The thought traps the air in my throat, and the anticipation of what comes next makes my groin tingle. <</if>> [[The discomfort caused by the rope is almost pleasurable.]]

“Is the rope fine?” Quinn asks, $q_his hands hovering over mine, ready to act if I should say so. “A little tight. But I don’t mind.” “How dirty of you.” $q_He smiles wickedly. Then, a loud smack echoes in the mill as $q_he spanks my bare ass. “Hey!” “You’re a pervert. I love it.” Another smack, harder than the first one, and another jolt of pain mixed with pleasure rushes through me. “Stop it,” I say but I don’t mean it. And $q_he knows it. $q_He must be reading my mind. $q_He just laughs at my plea. The laughter is high-pitched, carefree, but there’s darkness within. And it’s all too familiar in its aberration. \<<if $sex is "male">> Pressure builds up in the pit of my stomach as my erection squeezes beneath me. I start to rub myself against the floor for some sense of relief. It’s not enough but it’ll do. And all this time Quinn is watching, I can see the wicked smile on $q_his face from the corner of my eye. “My poor, poor friend.” $q_He leans in to pet my hair, $q_his voice a murmur: “Do you want me to help you?” \<<elseif $sex is "female">> Pressure builds up in the pit of my stomach, in my groin. I can’t move my hands to give myself pleasure and relief. It’s infuriating and I can’t help but to let out a little sob of irritation. “Poor you,” Quinn says as $q_he caresses my ass cheek. There’s a wicked smile on $q_his face as $q_he looks at my state of helplessness. “Do you want me to help you?” <</if>> $q_He rolls me over on my side. [[It's easier to breathe.]]

\<<if $sex is "male">> $q_He looks at my erection with a smile. “I love to see you enjoy yourself.” $q_He bends down to whisper in my ear as $q_he squeezes my painfully hard cock: “You deserve it.” I’m completely at $q_his mercy, all I can do is to lie on my side and focus on $q_him, on $q_his touch. On $q_his chilly fingers around my cock. Slowly, carefully, $q_he \<<elseif $sex is "female">> $q_He looks at my breasts with a fond smile. “You’re so pretty.” $q_He bends down to whisper in my ear as $q_his finger easily slips inside me. “And so wet…” I’m completely at $q_his mercy, all I can do is to lie on my side and focus on $q_him, on $q_his touch. On $q_his chilly finger inside me. Then, another enters, equally cold, making me writhe. <</if>>

The scent of dandelions fill the air as the dandelion seed swing lazily in the wind. The wind is warm in the eternal spring Cernunnos lives in. The moon shines unnaturally bright on the flowers, painting them pale yellow, nearly white. They shouldn’t bloom in the night time. The air is pleasant enough but there’s a sense of strangeness I can’t quite shrug off. A thought plagues my mind: I shouldn’t be here. The Twins would never approve. The scar on my chest tingles at the thought but it doesn’t ache, as it usually does. I peek beneath my tunic to see my naked skin without the brand of the Twins. I frown at the sight. Cernunnos has altered my body. Or am I to blame? It’s difficult to say how the land of the gods operates. Seeing my smooth skin makes me… [[Anxious.]] [[Weirdly happy.]]

This is wrong. The tattoo is a part of who I am, it is me. The Twins are a part of me, and always will be. I shouldn’t be here. Why did I accept their invitation? I squint my eyes closed and try to ignore the weirdness, the intrusive thoughts, and focus on my surroundings. An owl bellows out a low hoot in the distance, and a frog seemingly answers the call. [[Cernunnos is letting me wait.]]

And as soon as the feeling of happiness rises within me, it’s quickly followed by a sense of shame. I shouldn’t be happy about seeing the mark gone. Mother would beat some sense into me if she was here. I squint my eyes closed and try to ignore the weirdness, the intrusive thoughts, and focus on my surroundings. An owl bellows out a low hoot in the distance, and a frog seemingly answers the call. [[Cernunnos is letting me wait.]]

Then, the thought of being watched takes over me. I jolt up from the carpet of grass only to see a stag with hot white eyes staring at me from behind the trees. Its stare glows like two hostile stars in the darkness. The stare is invasive, it sees me and everything there is to know about me. It knows my hopes, my fears– I look away, as if it would deny it access to my thoughts. When I finally look back, the stag is gone. I can’t help but to sigh in relief. The relief quickly turns into annoyance. Cernunnos hasn’t made me wait like this before. [[Announce myself. I don’t like to be made to wait.]] [[Wait patiently.]]

“The Ancient One, I’ve arrived,” I boldly announce at the pitch black forest, at the creatures with the glowing eyes staring at my soul. Then, a sense of dread takes over my mind, tries to command my legs, it’s the primal fear of the prey that tries to force me to flee. The wind carries the words making my blood run cold: “Bold little rabbit.” Without hesitation, I turn around to see Cernunnos standing behind me. Their tall frame makes me bend my neck to see their face, and I’m quickly overcome by their scent of spring. They say nothing more, only inspect me from the heights. Finally, just when my neck was about to start hurting, they sit down. Their movement is agile and refined, regal in nature. They sat down for my comfort. The thought makes me smile, and the aura of calmness that surrounds them soothes my mind. [[I’ve never been this close to them before.]]

One shouldn’t rush the gods. I don’t fear that they’d will me out of existence, not anymore, but there’s a sense of decorum I’d rather maintain when dealing with them. It’s just common sense. Warm wind caresses my shoulder, carrying the scent of spring with it. I close my eyes and breathe in the scent, the scent of newly born life and the promise of summer, the– A hand lands on my shoulder. [[Yelp in surprise.]] [[Hold myself together.]]

“Agh!” I shout and try to jolt away from the touch, but the hand holds me in place with no effort. And a chuckle tickles the lobe of my ear. “Anxious little rabbit.” “Lord of the Forest!” I exhale as I try to maintain some sense of dignity. [[I’ve never been this close to them before.]]

I tighten my jaw and steel myself. I knew they’d try to scare me. “Lord of the Forest,” I state calmly and turn my gaze to them. They let go of my shoulder and lean back, seemingly in contentment. “Brave little rabbit.” As if they appeared out of nowhere, they’re now sitting behind me with their legs crossed, surrounded by an aura of calmness. But it’s spiced with little hints of intrigue. [[I’ve never been this close to them before.]]

I’ve never been this close to them before. The tattoos on their skin almost slither under the moonlight. They seem to have the texture of a tree, of a living bark. I want to touch them. The fur in their legs looks as inviting as I first saw them. It makes me want to nestle myself in their lap. The scent that surrounds me is of a forest waking up to the winds of spring. There’s no sense of danger emanating from them, but I know it might swiftly change. The nature of the hunter might be triggered by sudden actions. But I know they wouldn’t hurt me. That’s what my heart tells me, at least. My mind, however, argues against it. I look at the skull that’s been peering at me the whole time I’ve studied their large frame. Suddenly, they lift me off the ground and carry me off to the surrounding forest. I almost protest, but they already place me on the ground before I have the chance. “Do you know why you’re here?” Their breath grazes my skin as they sit down in front of me, making me bite the insides of my cheek. [["No."|cernie_no]] [["Yes."|cernie_yes]]

I can’t say that I do, not really. However, there’s a part of me that suspects, it whispers things that I anticipate to be true. The thought forces a faint blush to my cheeks. Amusement lingers in the air. “Lies.” I can only nod in agreement. I almost feared entering their realm but my curiosity took the best of me. The invitation was faint, subtle, like a promise of spring in early March. It was a promise of something primal. I know why I’m here. The promise of pleasure hangs in the air between us. A gasp flees my throat as I notice something slithering towards me. Snakes, my mind yells, trying to force my legs to flee like a prey that I am. [[Flee.]] [[Remain confidently still.]]

I know fully well why I’m here, and the thought makes me drawn in a quick breath of anticipation as I look at their powerful, unnaturally large frame. Their long fingers sit on their lap, waiting. The invitation they sent was faint, subtle, like a promise of spring in early March. It was a promise of something primal. I boldly look into Cernunnos’s glowing eyes. I know why I’m here, my gaze says. “I want it,” my mouth utters. The promise of pleasure hangs in the air between us. A gasp flees my throat as I notice something slithering towards me. Snakes, my mind yells, trying to force my legs to flee like a prey that I am. [[Flee.]] [[Remain confidently still.]]

I try to, but I can’t. I try to yank my feet free but they won’t move. The snakes hold me in place, they’re climbing up my leg and a scream starts to flee my– No. Calm yourself. They’re vines. The realization makes my heart beat a little slower, if only a little. However, my mind is still a panicked mess as I look at the god who has me in their grasp. And Cernunnos looks back at me. The air is colored with amusement and anticipation. They tighten their fist and the vines tighten around me. The tunic I had is no longer there. I didn’t even notice the vines and branches tearing it off. Or maybe it just disappeared. Does it even matter? I hold my breath as a vine crawls on my back to my neck, to my throat, and forces me to lie on my back. [[Continue|cernunnos_lie]]

No. I’m no mere prey and I will not flee. I steel my gaze at the hunter god who tries to intimidate me for their pleasure. Interest, amusement, and the vines stop slithering towards me. “Would you not enjoy it, little hunter?” [["I don't want to lose total control."]]

The ground is alive with the vines, the roots, the branches. They crawl beneath me, on me, tying me down, entrapping me. Like the prey that I am. The vines wiggle around my ankles, my wrists, my thighs, and my arms. I can only, barely, move my head. I look at the sky with a thousand stars staring back at me. Every nearby tree is seeking to hold me down with their wooden limbs. A seed of dandelion flies by, lazily, taking its time. [[I fear.]] [[Push the fear aside.]]

My heart races as I lie naked on the ground, completely at the mercy of a god I do not know. The vines constrain my flesh, the branches scrape my naked skin. The trees are starved to taste me. I let out a panicked gasp, trying to yank my feet free. But it’s all in vain. Then, a hand lands on my cheek and the vines stop moving. I look up to see Cernunnos at my side. Their eyes glow bright green as they inspect me, looking to bring relief for my discomfort. Their hand seeks to alleviate my fear. After all, too much stress and fear ruins the meat. I blink at the words surfacing on my mind but the hand on my cheek draws my attention more gravely. It’s soft, warm, almost human. My breathing calms down, my heart stops racing, I feel like I’m in control again. Cernunnos’s calming aura soothes my chaotic mind. Better? Yes. I smile at their consideration and nuzzle my cheek against the hand that’s still there, still bringing me comfort. [[Continue|cerniepicksup]]

I look at the fluffy seed, focusing on its lazy flight. It reminds me of the nature of the beast that I’m the captive of. The smell of dandelions fills me with every exhale. Cernunnos won’t hurt me. They merely enjoy the hunt and the fear, to bear witness to the vulnerability of their prey. I turn my gaze to Cernunnos only to see that they were already keenly looking at me. Their nature is clear to me and I’m ready. Crawling on all fours, Cernunnos creeps closer to me, to my plight, to witness my entrapment. I’m naked and completely at their mercy. Their horned skull remains expressionless but the eyes are aflame, burning bright white, bordering on blue. \<<if $sex is "male">> [[Continue|cerniemale]] \<<elseif $sex is "female">> [[Continue|cerniefemale]] <</if>>

I yelp in surprise as Cernunnos hoists me off the ground without any effort. Again. Instinctively, I grab onto their arm as the distance between me and the ground grows larger. Cernunnos’s long arms embrace me as they carry me out of the forest, away from the trees and their reaching branches. [["Please put me down."]] [[Nuzzle my cheek against the weird texture of their skin.]]

I take a sharp breath when a thick vine crawls along the inside of my thigh, crawling closer to my erection that I barely noticed was there. Aching pressure builds in my groin, blending in with the pressure provided by the vines. Cernunnos inches closer to me, so close that I can feel their breath on my skin. Their eagerness to witness everything that’s happening makes me feel seen, adored. Worshipped. I look at their flaming eyes. I’m ready. And the vine twists around my cock. I bite my lip at the alien sensation, at the smooth surface of the vine, and thank the Twins it wasn’t a branch that started to stroke me. The vine squeezes my cock almost painfully, then releases the pressure to bring momentary comfort. It does it again, and again. Another vine teases the tip of my erection. My arms are released as the vines focus on pleasuring me. And while the vines slowly work on building my bliss, Cernunnos beholds me, inspects every reaction that my body makes, their breathing growing heavier behind the skull they’re wearing. A guttural grunt leaves them every time I writhe in pleasure, everytime I make a blissful sound of my own. Then, I flinch as a vine seeks to enter my anus. It teases the entrance before starting to slowly penetrate me. Cernunnos’s soft hand holds my cheek as my heart starts to pound faster. I nuzzle against the warm, human-like hand. The vines on my cock tease, stroke, start pumping harder, and the vine inside me quickly finds the rhythm of their own. Every one of them work relentlessly, without mercy, and soon the painfully pleasant pressure is too much to handle. I grab Cernunnos’s arm, only barely take note of the skin that feels like bark, and squeeze the god’s flesh as I come. [[I’m barely aware that I’m hoisted off the ground.]]

I take a sharp breath when a thick vine crawls along the inside of my thigh. It caresses my skin gently, preparing me for what’s to come. Aching pressure builds in my groin, blending in with the pressure provided by the vines. Cernunnos inches closer to me, so close that I can feel their breath on my skin. Their eagerness to witness everything that’s happening makes me feel seen, adored. Worshipped. I look at their flaming eyes. I’m ready. And the vine enters me. I bite my lip at the alien sensation, at the smooth surface of the vine, and thank the Twins it wasn’t a branch that penetrated me. The vine is thick, almost too thick for comfort. I gasp as another vine starts to crawl against my clit. My arms are released as the vines focus on pleasuring me. While the vines slowly work on building my bliss, Cernunnos beholds me, inspects every reaction that my body makes, their breathing growing heavier behind the skull they’re wearing. A guttural grunt leaves them every time I writhe in pleasure, everytime I make a blissful sound of my own. Then, I flinch as a vine seeks to enter my anus. It teases the entrance before starting to slowly penetrate me. Cernunnos’s soft hand holds my cheek as my heart starts to pound faster. I nuzzle against the warm, human-like hand. The vines inside me start pumping faster, with purpose. Another vine enters my wetness all too easily. Every one of them work relentlessly, without mercy, and soon the painfully pleasant pressure is too much to handle. I grab Cernunnos’s arm, only barely take note of the skin that feels like bark, and squeeze the god’s flesh as I come. [[I’m barely aware that I’m hoisted off the ground.]]

Just as I'm about to recover from my ordeal, I yelp in surprise as Cernunnos hoists me off the ground without any effort. Again. Instinctively, I grab onto their arm as the distance between me and the ground grows larger. Cernunnos’s long arms embrace me as they carry me out of the forest, away from the trees and their reaching branches. I’m still woozy over my orgasm, over everything that happened. [["Please put me down."]] [[Nuzzle my cheek against the weird texture of their skin.]]

But my request is promptly ignored. It makes me frown in irritation but I can’t exactly fight them on this. I know that I’m leaving soon, anyway. Might as well bear with another unprompted lift off. I look up at the god carrying me and they only spare me a small, amused glance. Soon enough, even with them taking their time this time, we’re back at the meadow with the thousand dandelion seeds swinging in the wind. Cernunnos gently puts me back to the ground. “Time for you to go home.” [[Nod. It is.]] [[Hesitate.|cernie_hesitation]]

The tattoos on their chest are coarse against my cheek. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s akin to rubbing my cheek against an oak. There’s also the soft texture of the naked skin in between the tattoos. It’s profound to be this close to them, to feel their naked skin against me. I breathe in their scent and sigh in contentment. Cernunnos doesn’t spare a glance at me as they walk, and even with them taking their time this time, we’re soon back at the meadow with the thousand dandelion seeds swinging in the wind. Cernunnos gently puts me back to the ground. “Time for you to go home.” [[Nod. It is.]] [[Hesitate.|cernie_hesitation]]

The vines retreat back to the earth that they came from. The aura around them betray no sense of disappointment or discontentment. There is only silence. But it’s not uncomfortable, merely anticipating. Things didn’t turn out as they expected but what a god would they be if they let that faze them. What would you prefer, their gaze asks me. “I want to study your body,” I say, my tone filled with newly found confidence. Amusement. Approval. Agreement. The air is light with their muted laughter as they open their arms as an invitation to their embrace. I take a step towards them and confidently trace my finger along their branching tattoos. They truly feel like bark. And they move slightly in the moonlight. The naked skin between the tattoos feel soft to the touch, almost too intimate for me to hold. “Do you–,” I start but know without words that they don’t mind. So, with a bated breath, I tear the cloth off that’s shielding their hips, only to find that it was shielding nothing. Cernunnos's amusement brightens the air. I look at the skull face that’s inspecting me. There are no lips to kiss, no genitals to pleasure. A brief hesitation over the situation makes me pause, to ponder on my next step. My confidence fades, if only for a moment. [[And it’s a moment too long.]]

Cernunnos’s wooden claw grabs my chin with the strength of a hundred men. They force me to face them. My breath catches in my throat like a trapped hare. Their stagnant skull, their flaming eyes, their breath smelling of a spring storm, everything about them is aimed at me and only me. Their voice reverberates from below the bark: “Even if the deer eats the children of the birds, does that make it a predator?” They’re mocking me. Reminding me of my place. [[Spit at their face.]]

Without thinking, I aim a load of spit onto their skull. It spreads like white goo on the bark and I can’t help but smile at the sight of it. Then, but a moment later, I realize what I’ve done. I realize and the blood in my body turns into ice. [["I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I–"]] [[Run.]]

But no string of panicked words will salvage this. My legs know this, and they are already running. A loud, guttural roar chases me, reaches me. I stumble on a root and bite my lip, but keep running. The smell of blood taints the air, the taste of blood fills my mouth. And I run. //run run run, little rabbit// The trees reach out to me with their limbs, trying to catch me, trying to entrap me for the hunter. I dodge them, I swat them away, and keep running. But I don’t know where. I can’t keep running. I want to but I can't. [[Turn to face Cernunnos.]]

Where? My mind tries to ask but my legs are already running. A loud, guttural roar chases me, reaches me. I stumble on a root and bite my lip, but keep running. The smell of blood taints the air, the taste of blood fills my mouth. And I run. //run run run, little rabbit// The trees reach out to me with their limbs, trying to catch me, trying to entrap me for the hunter. I dodge them, I swat them away, and keep running. But I don’t know where. I can’t keep running. I want to but I can't. [[Turn to face Cernunnos.]]

And regret it. Cernunnos’s eyes burn bright red as they stalk towards me on all fours. Their long limbs are all but branches and vines, and all too ready to jump and tear me apart and feast on my mortal flesh. The skull seems to grin at the sight of my fear. Roots, branches, vines, the ground lives as they crawl beneat me, beneath them. “The Ancient One, please, forgive me.” The god pauses but the intent to kill is still there, the roots still slither at my feet, the branches scratch my skin. “The Ancient One, Lord of the Forest, The Horned One. I am your guest and you are my gracious host,” I remind them and silently am at awe at the strength of my voice despite the monster peering at me. There is no need for other words. Either this works or nothing will. Either the monster will yield or my flesh will nourish their appetite. Silence hangs heavily in the air, it weighs on my chest, tries to stifle the strength of my will, tries to make me run again. //flee flee flee flee// [[No. I won't run.]]

Finally, when my mind is made, the threat of violence is slowly being replaced by the aura of amiability as the branches and vines slowly start to retreat to the ground, to the trees, to Cernunnos themselves. Cernunnos stands up straight, and even if they tower over me once again, the change is preferable to the animal that they were just a moment ago. They give me a long, pondering look. The eyes glimmer with green and they almost look regretful. And I exhale in relief. A long, long silence lingers between us. Finally, they say: "Gods are wicked creatures." "You, too," I say, blame tainting my words. Yes. Them, too. Finally, I wake up.

Much happened tonight, much that I need to ponder on. The ache on my chest reminds me of the tattoo that I’m missing. I wonder if the Twins will find out? Or if they will care? I look at the god who’s been swaying me to their side. “Gods are wicked creatures,” they say. It’s uncertain if they’re saying to comfort me. “You, too?” They give me a look of admission. Then, I wake up.

I’m still feeling woozy over everything that happened, and it feels wrong to leave just yet. Cernunnos tilts their head at me. “I… Can I have a hug?” Another head tilt, more amused this time. In response, they outreach their long arms, giving me permission to enter their embrace. And I do. I run to their open arms, sorrowful over our departure, and feeling the tinge of guilt on my chest that I’ve grown so attached to them. I nuzzle my cheek against their fuzzy abdomen, breathing in the scent of honey and something roasted. Nuts, maybe. Acorns. Cernunnos’s hand lands on top of my head, giving me a long, gentle caress. I look up at the god petting me, happiness making me giddy. “Thank you.” If I could see beneath their skull, I swear I could see their smile. “You’re welcome, child of the Isles.”

“The knot needs to be tighter.” Niall frowns at my words. “Doesn’t it hurt?” “You can’t catch anything with knots this loose. It needs to be tighter.” I wiggle my hand off the rope. “See? I shouldn’t be able to do that.” After a resigned sigh, Niall recaptures my hand and tightens the knots I’ve been teaching him. When he asked me to help him work on his trapping skills, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind. And I don’t know how we ended up in his bedroom, of all places. The flower pots give the room a nice, homely touch, and he’s been burning incense a while ago. The bed is soft and the view is nice so I’m not complaining. The short-sleeved tunic reveals his massive, firm arms as he’s working on the knots. His soft hands have ceased to worry about touching my skin and his frown is a telltale of his concentration. [["You’re still doing it wrong. I said tighter."]] [[He’s awfully close. Try to look away.]]

“I tightened it!” he puffs out in frustration and pulls the rope even tighter. It almost hurts but I’m too deep in teasing him to let him know. “Clearly not enough,” I say and try to make a point by freeing my hands. However, I can’t. The rope is indeed pretty tight. Niall smirks uncharacteristically. “See?” I roll my eyes. “Good for you, Tribune, for managing to follow the simplest of orders.” He pouts at my jab. “Your sarcasm wounds me, you know.” “Sorry. I can’t help it.” “You can’t help but to hurt me?” Another pout, more playful this time. I exhale a laugh. Niall looks at me with a small, hesitant smile on his face. When I give him an inquisitive look, familiar pink rises to his cheeks and he looks away. “My mind wandered, the rope… I mean, I don’t, no. Forget I said anything.” I squint my eyes at him in delight. “Do you mean to tell me that you love seeing me tied up?” “No no, of course not.” “I’m all tied up and at your mercy, Lord Tribune.” I raise my bound hands. “Please! Don’t ravage me.” By now, the whole of Niall’s face is completely red. It complements his golden-hued tunic nicely. “You are insufferable,” he sighs but a smile rings through his words. “I know. Now, mind getting these off?” It’s almost a shame to ask but he has a meeting to rush to. “Fine. Only because you asked nicely.” “As if you could refuse me.” He gives me a quick smile before frowning at the ropes once again, aiming all his focus on the task at hand. It’s nice to look at him when he’s concentrating. My gaze wanders on his strong, veiny arms. The arms that could lift me, or hold me down. “I can’t,” he says. “What?” “The knot is stuck.” [["Can't you even open one knot?"]] [["Oh no. Now you simply have to ravage me."]]

It takes but a moment to realize that his naked skin is all too close. He’s struggling with the rope and the salty sweat beads forming on his forehead makes his smell surround me. His perfume smells like a rose bed in the summer sun, his hobby makes him smell like herbs and greens. But this is his own scent, it’s musky, clean, still floral, I can practically taste the salt. It’s all him. I gulp and tear my gaze off from his veiny arms, the arms that could easily lift me up or hold me down. The fact that we’re practicing the knots in his bedroom wasn’t the brightest of ideas. Which one suggested it? And how did it not cross either one’s mind that I’d end up tied up in his bed? Fools, both of us. Niall has stopped working on the ropes and is looking at me with creases on his forehead. “Are you hurting?” he asks. He frowns at the ropes. “Shit, I know I tied them too tight, just a moment–” “No, it’s alright,” I say, my tone all too breathy. Niall raises his gaze to me once again, and whatever he sees makes his eyes widen. “Oh!” he exclaims and pulls the rope so tight that I yelp in surprise. “Oh! Sorry!” “Ouch, too tight,” I complain. “I’m so so sorry, I will take it off right now.” The string of apologies continues as he starts working on the rope. Alas, nothing happens. Niall exhales in frustration. “The knot is stuck.” [["Can't you even open one knot?"]] [["Oh no. Now you simply have to ravage me."]]

I scoff at him, and not because I’m starting to feel hot and bothered and would preferably take my control back over the situation. No, of course that’s not the reason. “I’m sorry, I’m trying my best,” he says as his fingers are working swiftly, but not effectively. He fumbles as I look at him. “Ugh, let me try,” I say and shove his hands away. But of course it’s useless, I can’t possibly open the knot by myself. I still try, just to show Niall. Then, to my irritation, Niall lets out a little laugh. “What?” I frown. “I’m sorry, it just looks a little hopeless.” I let out another scoff, louder this time. “Just get me a knife.” “You’d just hurt yourself.” “Don’t baby me, Tribune. “You’re insufferable.” He sighs in frustration. Then, he yanks the rope, making me fly to his chest with a yelp. “What the–” There’s a small smirk on his face, a little too evil, unfit for his usually flustered features. The smirk forms a small dimple beneath his bottom lip that I haven’t seen before. Then, before I can react, he yanks me closer and kisses me. Involuntarily, still in shock, I groan against his soft lips. The smell of him is all too strong, all too intoxicating. His body is hard against mine. I try to grab his arms to prevent me from falling but I remember I can’t. I lose all remnants of balance and fall deeper into his embrace. And he welcomes me, he squeezes me tighter, his wildly beating heart races against mine. “Do you want me to ravage you?” he asks, his voice husky, his gaze filled with heat but it’s still coated with hesitation. <<if $sex is "female">> [[“Fuck me.”|niall_fuckmefem]] [[Give him a small nod.]] <<elseif $sex is "male">> [["Fuck me."|niall_fuckmemale]] [["Suck me."|niall_suckme][$suck to true]] <</if>>\

My words might be joking but there’s no denying the heat in my lower stomach. I smile a hungry smile. “Or, I can get a knife and cut the rope,” he offers, promptly ignoring my innuendo, ignoring the hunger. “Knife play, you say? So you’ve warmed up to the idea?” She squeezes his eyes tightly shut. “Gods above, Aengus give me strength.” “The god of love would definitely be on my side here.” A loud, desperate groan echoes in the bedroom as Niall is seemingly contemplating on his life choices. Then, he looks at me. But instead of the bashfulness that I expected to see, there’s a small smirk on his face. Before I can react, he yanks the rope, making me fly to his chest with a yelp. “What the–” The smirk remains, a little too evil, unfit for his usually flustered features. It creates a small dimple beneath his bottom lip that I haven’t seen before. Then, he yanks me closer and kisses me. Involuntarily, still in shock, I groan against his soft lips. The smell of him is all too strong, all too intoxicating. His body is hard against mine. I try to grab his arms to prevent me from falling but I remember I can’t. I lose all remnants of balance and fall deeper into his embrace. And he welcomes me, he squeezes me tighter, his wildly beating heart races against mine. “Do you want me to ravage you?” he asks, his voice husky, his gaze filled with heat but it’s still coated with hesitation. <<if $sex is "female">> [[“Fuck me.”|niall_fuckmefem]] [[Give him a small nod.]] <<elseif $sex is "male">> [["Fuck me."|niall_fuckmemale]] [["Suck me."|niall_suckme][$suck to true]] <</if>>\

He nods. “Yes. I can do that.” His almost hesitant words would make me laugh if his gaze wasn’t filled with heat and determination. I gasp in surprise as he takes my trousers off in a single motion, like an expert that he is, as if he’s done this many times before. Before I can ponder on it, he’s already on top of me, his massive cock poking at my buttocks, already rock hard and ready for me. His breaths are uneven, hasty, so close to my skin as he asks: “Are you ready?” His voice tickles my ear. He doesn’t really need me to answer, his finger is already inside me, checking, making sure I can take all of him. “Yes,” he answers himself and lets out a content hum. “But I can make you wetter,” he offers, ignoring his own needy cock that’s rubbing against me, all too eager to enter. “Fuck me,” I repeat, my voice raspy with need. He answers in an agreeing grunt. Then, he starts to slowly enter me, little by little, his width and length almost too much for me to handle. I gasp, close my eyes and try to relax, try to take him all in. But there’s so much of him. Then, a finger starts to rub my clit. “Just breathe and relax,” he says as his thumb works on my clit, making me wetter as his cock slowly inches deeper. “That’s right,” he whispers against my ear when he’s finally fully inside. “I’ll start to move now,” he warns me. Before I can answer, he stays true to his word. He starts to move, slowly at first, making sure he won’t hurt me. Then, when he’s certain that I can take him, he starts picking up the pace. He starts to fuck me harder. “Does it hurt?” he asks, his voice husky, low, but still concerned as he’s pumping his cock deep inside me. “No,” I lie. It hurts too good for me to tell the truth, I know he would stop if I told him and I don’t want him to. I’m completely stuffed by him, focusing on him and only him. I try to hold onto him, to get a feel of his powerful frame, but find that I can’t. I’m completely below him, unable to move or grab him. All I can do is to let him fuck me. His breath is hot against my skin. He weighs heavy on me. His cock doesn’t hurt anymore, it only feels good. So good. My breaths are as uneven as his are. “Please come first,” he offers and starts to rub on my clit again. That’s all it takes. I moan loudly as my pussy starts to pulsate on his cock. He gives me a quick smile before groaning almost in pain as he rushes to take his cock out of me. Immediately after, he shoots his seed onto the bed. I look at the cum next to me. “Why not on me?” I ask. “Tarnish you with my… stuff?” he asks, a disgusted frown distorting his face. Well, that answers that question. I can’t help but to smile as I close my eyes, breathless and content. He gives me a quick peck on my forehead, making me smile wider. [[Continue|niall_bed]]

Faced by his needy words, all I can do is to nod. And that’s all he needs. I gasp in surprise as he takes my trousers off in a single motion, like an expert that he is, as if he’s done this many times before. Before I can ponder on it, he’s already on top of me, his massive cock poking at my buttocks, already rock hard and ready for me. His breaths are uneven, hasty, so close to my skin as he asks: “Are you ready?” His voice tickles my ear. He doesn’t really need me to answer, his finger is already inside me, checking, making sure I can take all of him. “Yes,” he answers himself and lets out a content hum. “But I can make you wetter,” he offers, ignoring his own needy cock that’s rubbing against me, all too eager to enter. I shake my head. “Just… do it.” He answers in an agreeing grunt. Then, he starts to slowly enter me, little by little, his width and length almost too much for me to handle. I gasp, close my eyes and try to relax, try to take him all in. But there’s so much of him. Then, a finger starts to rub my clit. “Just breathe and relax,” he says as his thumb works on my clit, making me wetter as his cock slowly inches deeper. “That’s right,” he whispers against my ear when he’s finally fully inside. “I’ll start to move now,” he warns me. Before I can answer, he stays true to his word. He starts to move, slowly at first, making sure he won’t hurt me. Then, when he’s certain that I can take him, he starts picking up the pace. He starts to fuck me harder. “Does it hurt?” he asks, his voice husky, low, but still concerned as he’s pumping his cock deep inside me. “No,” I lie. It hurts too good for me to tell the truth, I know he would stop if I told him and I don’t want him to. I’m completely stuffed by him, focusing on him and only him. I try to hold onto him, to get a feel of his powerful frame, but find that I can’t. I’m completely below him, unable to move or grab him. All I can do is to let him fuck me. His breath is hot against my skin. He weighs heavy on me. His cock doesn’t hurt anymore, it only feels good. So good. My breaths are as uneven as his are. “Please come first,” he offers and starts to rub on my clit again. That’s all it takes. I moan loudly as my pussy starts to pulsate on his cock. He gives me a quick smile before groaning almost in pain as he rushes to take his cock out of me. Immediately after, he shoots his seed onto the bed. I look at the cum next to me. “You made a mess.” “It can be washed, don’t worry about it.” I can’t help but to smile as I close my eyes, breathless and content. He gives me a quick peck on my forehead, making me smile wider. [[Continue|niall_bed]]

“What?” His eyes widen. “Now?” “No, tomorrow.” I scoff. “Of course now.” “I’ve never done that with a man before…,” he says as he’s inspecting my cock in his hands as if it was from another dimension. Blush creeps into his cheeks. “This is not the time to talk about that.” “Look, if you don’t feel comfortable with…” “No,” he blurts out with a determined frown. “I will suck you!” He flinches at his own loud words and looks around, as if checking if anyone heard him. “Alright,” I say, smiling. I raise my hands to remind him of my place. “By all means, I’m at your mercy.” He relaxes a little at my words and gives me a determined smile. I half expect him to bump his fist into the air to motivate himself into getting to action. But instead, he gulps my dick into his mouth in one single motion, making me groan in surprise. My cock is deep inside his mouth, almost touching the back of his throat. I place my bound hands on his head, trying to balance myself, and he takes a hold of my hips to help. He squeezes my flesh so tightly it almost hurts, and I yank at his hair hard as revenge. He grunts in pain, gags at my cock, and lets go of me with a gasp. “Shit, you’re big.” He coughs. “You’re–” But he doesn’t let me continue, he’s already gobbled up my cock again. This time, he takes me deeper despite his gagging. And this time, I’m ready. I push my hips up and push his head down on me by his hair. He whines and groans and I smile. With a grunt I start fucking his mouth. I hold him down by his hair and fuck him. And he gags. He gags and coughs as I pump my cock into his mouth. Finally, with a loud gasp, he frees himself. “I didn’t say you could stop,” I say, my voice raspy and needy. “But I was going to throw up.” “Fine, that’s not my kink anyway.” I laugh. “Thank the gods.” He smiles and starts to stroke my dick before I can continue the banter. He looks into my eyes, his hesitation quickly dissolving as he works on my cock quicker and quicker. His biceps are tense and hard as he keeps pleasuring me. Before I can ask, he dives in and starts to tease the tip of my dick with his tongue. It’s too much. I shoot my load inside his mouth with a loud groan, holding his head down, holding him there till I’m done. He hums against me with my cock still inside his mouth, and it almost sounds like he’s laughing. “What is it?” He gets up with a wide, shy smile on his face. “I’m glad you liked it. I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right.” “You were great,” I say, making his smile grow even wider. I can’t help but to smile at myself as I slump onto the bed, breathless and content. He gives me a quick peck on my forehead, making me smile wider. [[Continue|niall_bed]]

When I open my eyes, he’s lying on the bed, looking at me. He caresses my cheek with fondness shining so brightly in his gaze it’s almost blinding. And I can’t help but to smile back at him. “Such a pretty smile.” He says as he caresses the corner of my mouth. [["Shut it," I grunt.]] [["You're pretty."]] [[Purr in contentment like a cat.]]

“I, uh, you’re welcome.” He lets out an embarrassed laugh. “I haven’t done this with a man before but butt is a butt and–” “Please don’t speak.” “Yes, alright.” He moves his fingers carefully inside me, making sure I’m ready for him. Once he’s satisfied, he gives me a serious look. “Are you ready?” “As ready as I can be,” I say, concern seeping into my words. His needy, massive cock rubs against my buttocks, all too eager to enter. He lifts my legs on his shoulders and I give my own cock a concerned rub with my bound hands. “Do it,” I say, my voice raspy with need. He answers in an agreeing grunt. Then, after oiling his dick once more, he starts to slowly enter me, little by little, his width and length almost too much for me to handle. I gasp, close my eyes and try to relax, try to take him all in. But there’s so much of him. “Just keep stroking yourself,” he says and gives my cock a reassuring squeeze. “Just breathe and relax. I won’t rush it.” His cock slowly inches deeper. Finally, he’s completely inside me. “That’s right. Good boy,” he commends me as heat rushes to my cheeks. “I’ll start to move now,” he warns me. Before I can answer, he stays true to his word. He starts to move, slowly at first, making sure he won’t hurt me. Then, when he’s certain that I can take him, he starts picking up the pace. He starts to fuck me harder. “Does it hurt?” he asks, his voice husky, low, but still concerned as he’s pumping his cock deep inside me. “No,” I lie. It hurts too good for me to tell the truth, I know he would stop if I told him and I don’t want him to. I’m completely stuffed by him, focusing on him and only him. I try to hold onto him, to get a feel of his powerful frame, but find that I can’t. I’m completely below him, unable to move or grab him. All I can do is to let him fuck me. His breath is hot against my skin. He weighs heavy on me. His cock doesn’t hurt anymore, it only feels good. So good. My breaths are as uneven as his are. “Please come first,” he offers and starts to stroke my cock with his massive hand. That’s all it takes. I moan loudly as my dick twitches and shoots all my load onto his stomach. He gives me a quick smile before groaning as his cock twitches inside me. I can’t help but to smile as I close my eyes, breathless and content. He gives me a quick peck on my forehead, making me smile wider. [[Continue|niall_bed]]

He frowns at the insult and pushes another finger inside me making me groan in discomfort. The sound makes his frown turn into a concerned grimace, and before he can stop and apologize, I say: “Don’t worry about it, idiot, just keep going.” He pouts but obeys. He moves his fingers carefully inside me, making sure I’m ready for him. Once he’s satisfied, he gives me a serious look. “Are you ready?” “As ready as I can be,” I say, concern seeping into my words. His needy, massive cock rubs against my buttocks, all too eager to enter. He lifts my legs on his shoulders and I give my own cock a concerned rub with my bound hands. “Do it,” I say, my voice raspy with need. He answers in an agreeing grunt. Then, after oiling his dick once more, he starts to slowly enter me, little by little, his width and length almost too much for me to handle. I gasp, close my eyes and try to relax, try to take him all in. But there’s so much of him. “Just keep stroking yourself,” he says and gives my cock a reassuring squeeze. “Just breathe and relax. I won’t rush it.” His cock slowly inches deeper. Finally, he’s completely inside me. “That’s right. Good boy,” he commends me as heat rushes to my cheeks. “I’ll start to move now,” he warns me. Before I can answer, he stays true to his word. He starts to move, slowly at first, making sure he won’t hurt me. Then, when he’s certain that I can take him, he starts picking up the pace. He starts to fuck me harder. “Does it hurt?” he asks, his voice husky, low, but still concerned as he’s pumping his cock deep inside me. “No,” I lie. It hurts too good for me to tell the truth, I know he would stop if I told him and I don’t want him to. I’m completely stuffed by him, focusing on him and only him. I try to hold onto him, to get a feel of his powerful frame, but find that I can’t. I’m completely below him, unable to move or grab him. All I can do is to let him fuck me. His breath is hot against my skin. He weighs heavy on me. His cock doesn’t hurt anymore, it only feels good. So good. My breaths are as uneven as his are. “Please come first,” he offers and starts to stroke my cock with his massive hand. That’s all it takes. I moan loudly as my dick twitches and shoots all my load onto his stomach. He gives me a quick smile before groaning as his cock twitches inside me. I can’t help but to smile as I close my eyes, breathless and content. He gives me a quick peck on my forehead, making me smile wider. [[Continue|niall_bed]]

I distort the smile into a forced frown. And he merely laughs at me. “You’re so grumpy it’s cute.” “Saying that only makes me grumpier.” “And cuter.” I groan but find it harder to fight against the invading smile. [[Continue|niallgetsup]]

A faint, happy flush dances on his cheeks. “Not as pretty as you.” “You’re prettier.” “No, you are.” I can’t help but to laugh at the silly exchange, and he joins me in laughter. [[Continue|niallgetsup]]

I nuzzle my cheek against his hand and let out different happy sounds. He chuckles and cups my cheek in his massive palm. I rest my head against it and sigh. “You’re so cute,” he says and rubs my cheek with his thumb. “Do you want to live here, little kitty?” “I could make a nest underneath your bed.” “That’ll work. I’ll feed you only the best food.” We both laugh at the silly exchange. [[Continue|niallgetsup]]

Suddenly, he gets up before I can protest, and I already find myself missing the closeness of his body. He turns to me with an apologising look on his face. “We still need to get you out of those restraints.” \<<if $suck is true>> “So I can return a favor?” \<<else>> “So I can mount you this time?” <</if>> An exasperated laugh leaves his flustered lips. “$name, please. I need to get to the meeting, I’m already late.” “But if you’re already late, what does it matter?” I give him a sneaky smile. “If Marcus finds out that I was with you, you’ll hear no end of it. Nor me for that matter.” He cringes at the prospect. “An excellent point, yes. So, a knife?” “I’ll be careful, I promise.” And he was careful, almost overly so. He took more time than was needed, just to make sure I won’t be hurt. In the end, he was extremely late for his meeting.

“Oh, dear, I think the tea and the sweets are going into my head.” The air is hazy with incense. Tinsae lies on the couch with her hand on her forehead, her chest rises and falls with more strain than usual. The carpet that I’m sitting on is extremely colorful, and when the colors start blending together like waves in a storm, I look back at Tinsae. “What was in it?” I ask, only barely able to hide the slur creeping into my tone. My head feels like a brick and a cloud at the same time. “Darling, this is all my fault. I should’ve asked. I thought it was sush… suspicious when my friend asked me to share it with a loved one.” [[“I’m your loved one?”]]

My heart flutters a little harder than usual. A part of me, the anxious part that is now more aware than ever, is worried that it’s a surefire sign of a heart attack. Tinsae raises her head, her eyes cloudy and unfocused. “Of course you are.” She rolls off from the couch with the grace of a drunk badger. “Gela tebi!” she curses as she sits on the ground and tries to gather herself. Her skirt is crumpled, it completely reveals her thigh as she tries to sit with more poise and grace. She takes a breath and tries to focus her gaze on me. “I can see that you’re worried about the symptoms. Worry not, my dear, we are not in mortal peril.” “Well, that’s good,” I say, wanting to believe her. “My friend would kill us in a sword fight instead of poisoning us. She owes me that much.” “You have friends who’d kill you in a sword fight?” “Of course! Who doesn’t?” She closes her eyes with a frown. “But I’m intrigued by the effects. This is quite potent. I find myself…” She opens her eyes and leans towards me, her gaze cloudy and dark with poorly veiled desire. She squeezes her brazenly exposed cleavage, no doubt deliberately. She breathes through her mouth that’s slightly ajar, her full lips drawing my attention, her breath has the scent of spices in it. Her breasts look so soft to the touch. I wonder how it would feel to squeeze them. [[Do so.]] [[Oh no. I can't just grab her breasts like a wildling.]]

Without much thought and with no sense of inhibition, I cup her breasts in each hand, kneading them in a trance-like state. Tinsae takes in a sharp breath when the neckline of her dress gives in, revealing her bosom completely. She holds my hands but doesn’t prevent them from moving, from continuing to explore her. She writhes as I pinch the tips of her hardened nipples. “I think,” she says with her voice hoarse with desire, “that we shouldn’t worry. Just trust where the road takes us.” I find myself agreeing with the sentiment. Then, I feel someone’s gaze on me. I turn around to see Caleb’s dark gaze looking at me from the doorway. [[Shriek.]] [["What the fuck is he doing here?"]] [["Huh?"]]

Even in this state of delirium, I force myself to think clearly. Sure, they’re beautiful, she’s beautiful, and I would love to cup her breasts and give them a little squeeze. But I’m also a civilized person who can fight against random acts of lust. I just need to keep my head clear and try to fight against the symptoms of– “$name.” I realize I’ve been looking at her chest for a while now and she gives me a knowing, wicked smile. “Huh?” She rips the neckline of her dress, completely revealing her bosom. She takes my hand and puts it on her breast. Softly she guides me towards her, towards her lips, as she whispers to my ear: “I’m feeling a little naughty.” She squeezes my hand against her soft skin. “What about you?” I nod, unable to find my voice, unable to focus on anything else but her skin against mine. “I think,” she says with her voice hoarse with desire, “that we shouldn’t worry. Just trust where the road takes us.” I find myself agreeing with the sentiment. Then, I feel someone’s gaze on me. I turn around to see Caleb’s dark gaze looking at me from the doorway. [[Shriek.]] [["What the fuck is he doing here?"]] [["Huh?"]]

I let out a banshee shriek, my anxiety only fueled by my delirious state. Tinsae grabs me to her embrace, I’m buried in her naked softness as she looks around for the source of my screech. Finally, when she realizes that I’m looking at the door frame and his bodyguard, she lets out a relieved sigh. “Please don’t mind Caleb. He likes to make sure I’m safe. Even when…” “What? He wants to look while you have sex?” “Oh, no, it’s not that. It’s just his job. It’s, uh…” She hesitates as she tries to find the right words. “He likes to make sure I’m safe,” she repeats. “Do you mind, my dear? He can leave if you wish.” [["This is weird. Make him leave."]] [[I'm a little hesitant about this but... "Fine. He can stay."]] [["That's naughty. Fine, he can stay."]]

My heart races and my tone is harsh. Despite it, Caleb continues to stand like a statue. It takes a moment for Tinsae to realize what I’m talking about. “Oh! You mean Caleb. Please don’t mind him.” “Don’t mind? He’s looking. I thought he’d give us–” “Privacy? Caleb likes to make sure I’m safe. Even when…” “Even when you fuck?” She inhales a high pitched laughter. “Yes, even then.” She barely gives her bodyguard a glance, her gaze completely captured by me. “Do you mind, my dear? He can leave if you wish.” [["This is weird. Make him leave."]] [[I'm a little hesitant about this but... "Fine. He can stay."]] [["That's naughty. Fine, he can stay."]]

“Huh?” Tinsae repeats my confusion with a frown. It takes a moment for her to realize that I’m looking at the door frame. “Oh, of course. Please don’t mind Caleb. He likes to make sure I’m safe. Even when…” “What? He wants to look while you have sex?” “Oh, no, it’s not that. It’s just his job. It’s, uh…” She hesitates as she tries to find the right words. “He likes to make sure I’m safe,” she repeats. “Do you mind, my dear? He can leave if you wish.” [["This is weird. Make him leave."]] [[I'm a little hesitant about this but... "Fine. He can stay."]] [["That's naughty. Fine, he can stay."]]

\<<set $caleb_be_gone to true>> Tinsae gives his body guard a hand signal and Caleb disappears through the door. He’s still there, certainly he can hear us, but at least he can’t see us. “Better?” Tinsae smiles. I give her a nod. “Good. I never want you to be uncomfortable.” I smile at the words. “Thank you.” \<<if $sex is "male">> [[Continue|tinsae_carpet]] \<<elseif $sex is "female">> “However…” She smiles like a cat. “I just realized that there's still something I need from him. Please, wait a moment. Caleb, dear, I still need some assistance.” Without a word, the bodyguard brings his mistress a wooden object and it takes only a moment to realize that it’s phallic in nature. “He just knew that’s what you needed?” Tinsae lets out a giggle. “Don’t look at me like that. I was merely prepared for you. Anyway…” Tinsae gives me a bright smile as she presents the thing in her hands. “We can use this if you’d like.” [[“Use? Do you mean… uh…”]] [[“That’s a good idea. I’ve never used one before.”]] <</if>>

I suppose we are under the influence of a foreign substance and it wouldn’t hurt for someone to keep an eye on us. The situation is slightly weird but Tinsae doesn’t seem to mind his presence. She’s probably so used to him always being there. I wonder if he truly doesn’t care about what he sees? I give him a careful peek but his features remain as stoic as ever. \<<if $sex is "male">> [[Continue|tinsae_carpet]] \<<elseif $sex is "female">> “Please wait a moment,” Tinsae says and gestures at Caleb. Without a word, the bodyguard brings her master a wooden object and it takes only a moment to realize that it’s phallic in nature. Tinsae gives me a bright smile as she presents the thing. “We can use this if you’d like.” [[“Use? Do you mean… uh…”]] [[“That’s a good idea. I’ve never used one before.”]] <</if>>

I give Tinsae a small smirk. The thought of someone looking at us while having sex is quite thrilling. I wonder if he’s truly stoic about it or if he wants to watch? And is Tinsae in on it? “Oh,” she says and gives her bodyguard a glance. “Now that you mention it, it is a little naughty.” Caleb remains as a statue as we talk about him. Tinsae must be so used to his presence that she barely gives it a thought. “You don’t think it’s weird?” “You must understand, he’s always there. Please don’t think that I view him as furniture or anything of the sort but… He’s just always there.” She fiddles with her bracelet and gives me an apologetic smile. “Don’t worry. I understand.” I’m not sure if I fully do but the conversation clearly makes her uncomfortable. She sighs in clear relief. \<<if $sex is "male">> [[Continue|tinsae_carpet]] \<<elseif $sex is "female">> “Please wait a moment,” Tinsae says and gestures at Caleb. Without a word, the bodyguard brings her master a wooden object and it takes only a moment to realize that it’s phallic in nature. Tinsae gives me a bright smile as she presents the thing. “We can use this if you’d like.” [[“Use? Do you mean… uh…”]] [[“That’s a good idea. I’ve never used one before.”]] <</if>>

She giggles at my question. “Yes. You can fuck me with this or I can fuck you. Whatever you’d prefer.” Heat rushes to my cheeks due to her dirty words. They feel both wrong and right in her usually sweet lips. She smiles wickedly, fully aware of her impact on me. [[Continue|tinsae_carpet]]

I take the phallus and inspect it. It’s crafted with talent and it’s smooth to the touch. “Our tribe’s woodcutter certainly didn’t have life-sized cocks in her shelves.” “She didn’t? The travesty,” Tinsae says with a giggle. I smile at the exchange. [[Continue|tinsae_carpet]]

Tinsae is a great distraction but seeing the carpet’s mesh of colors makes me dizzy once more. I close my eyes and try to chase another wave of lightheadedness away. Tinsae leans to whisper to my ear: “Just ride the waves, my darling. Don’t fight it.” I sigh as she grazes the skin of my cheek. I open my eyes as Tinsae carefully takes off my tunic. She herself is half naked, her dress crumpled on her hips revealing all of her upper body. “What’s your wish, my dear?” she says in a sultry tone, squeezing her breasts together at my pleasure. “I’m at your service.” [[I just stare at her. I'm not sure what to do.]] [[“I wish to devour you.”]]

\<<set $hesitant_top to true>> I don’t know what to say. My head feels dizzy and I can only focus on her. There’s an ache in my lower stomach that feels more hungry than usual. My groin feels like it’s on fire and I’m almost afraid of it. I want to fuck her but that's not who I usually am. Something about this state is ripping me off my inhibitions and it almost scares me. She looks at me with her gaze darkened by the same hunger I feel. She doesn’t want to devour me, she wants to savor me, nibble at me, tease me, and make sure I enjoy every moment of it. She lets out a giggle, her bright voice confirming my thoughts. “You don’t have to say it.” She leans in closer with her bare chest, her nipples grazing my bare arm. She kisses my cheeks as her floral perfume drowns me in it. “Let me take care of you, my darling. Let me make you feel good.” I shake my head with a newfound determination. “No. I will fuck you.” She lets out a surprised laugh. “By all means, then.” With some hesitation but encouraged by her smile, I push her down on the carpet and climb on top of her. <<if $sex is "female">> Her warmth cocoons me as I breathe in her floral scent. She caresses my arms gently. Her warmth, her touch, her scent, everything about her almost makes me want to fall asleep on top of her. But sleep is for later. [[Continue|tinsae_fem]] <<elseif $sex is "male">> [[Continue|tinsae_male]] <</if>>

\<<set $confident_top to true>> She smiles at my hungry words. “Please do.” She takes my hand and sucks my finger while holding eye contact. “And don’t hold back.” \<<if $sex is "male">> I push her down on the carpet and climb on top of her. She welcomes me to her embrace with open arms and sighs deeply as the tip of my cock starts to rub against her groin. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> I push her down on the carpet and climb on top of her. She welcomes me to her embrace with open arms and sighs deeply when I push my knee against her groin. <</if>>\ <<if $sex is "female">> Her warmth cocoons me as I breathe in her floral scent. She caresses my arms gently. Her warmth, her touch, her scent, everything about her almost makes me want to fall asleep on top of her. But sleep is for later. [[Continue|tinsae_fem]] <<elseif $sex is "male">> [[Continue|tinsae_male]] <</if>>

\<<if $confident_top is true>> Without delay, I push the dildo inside her, almost too roughly, as she draws in a breath. She’s wet enough and she doesn’t sound pained. “Good girl,” I say as I start to fuck her with her toy. “You took that in like a champ.” She giggles. “Why thank you.” Before she gets too comfortable and to catch her off guard, I push it deeper in one quick thrust. She winces and grabs the arm that’s now fucking her. I smile at her, almost smugly. And she gives me a playful frown in response. Seeing her pleasure builds up mine. Her moans make me bite my lip. My groin burns with need and I quickly free the other hand to give myself pleasure. \<<elseif $hesitant_top is true>> Carefully, I start easing into her with the wooden phallus. It goes in easily enough, it doesn’t look too uncomfortable. The foreign object makes me second guess myself. “Are you sure you don’t want me to–” she starts asking when she sees my hesitation. “I’m in charge,” I remind both her and myself. She gives me an encouraging smile and a nod. “You are.” I take a deep breath and start to fuck her with her toy. She moans in reassurance and I pick up the speed. Seeing her pleasure builds up mine. Her moans make me bite my lip. My groin burns with need and I quickly free the other hand to give myself pleasure. <</if>>\ But the need to see her from another angle takes over me. [[I roll her to her stomach and lift her ass up.|tinsae_assupfem]]

\<<if $confident_top is true>> I push myself deep inside her with a grunt. She feels warm and soft, and I fall on top of her to savor the moment, to savor all of her. Her warmth cocoons me as I breathe in her floral scent. She caresses my arms gently. Her warmth, her touch, her scent, everything about her almost makes me want to fall asleep on top of her. But sleep is for later. \<<elseif $hesitant_top is true>> “Are you ready?” I ask with hesitation coating my words. “I am.” She gives me an encouraging smile and a nod. I push myself deep inside her with a grunt. She feels warm and soft, and I fall on top of her to savor the moment, to savor all of her. Her warmth cocoons me as I breathe in her floral scent. She caresses my arms gently. Her warmth, her touch, her scent, everything about her almost makes me want to fall asleep on top of her. But sleep is for later. <</if>>\ I give her a quick kiss, her soft lips eagerly tasting mine, and I start to thrust my hips against hers. Slowly, gently. But the need to see her from another angle takes over me. [[I roll her to her stomach and lift her ass up.|tinsae_assupmale]]

She giggles at the change of position and shakes her bubble butt playfully, but when I shove my cock back inside her, the laughter turns into a low moan. \<<if $confident_top is true>> I give neither of us no time to recover as I start to pump my hips quickly and without mercy. The sounds of fucking fills the room, the sounds of wetness, her moans and whimpers, my grunts. \<<elseif $hesitant_top is true>> “I’m sorry I–” I try to explain my actions but she starts to thrust herself against my cock. “Don’t worry about it,” she says with her voice breathy and needy. Encouraged by her words, I start to pump my hips against her. The sounds of fucking fills the room, the sounds of wetness, her moans and whimpers, my grunts. <</if>>\ \<<if $caleb_be_gone is true>> [[Focus on Tinsae.|tinsae_nocalebmale]] \<<else>> [[Focus on Tinsae.|tinsae_calebmale]] [[Look at Caleb.|tinsae_lookmale]] <</if>>\

\<<if $confident_top is true>> I slap her ass, the sound of flesh hitting flesh drowning everything else beneath it. “What have I done to deserve such a punishment?” she whines as she tries to wiggle away from me. Her tone is still playful as a smile rings through her words. “This is a reward,” I say through a groan and slap her ass one last time, marveling at the sight of her butt rippling due to impact. I grab her and thrust deep within her, frantically, losing my rhythm, as she tries to meet my thrusts. \<<elseif $hesitant_top is true>> I bite my lip as I look at Tinsae’s ass jiggling with the rhythm of my thrusts. I grab her tighter and make her wince in pain. The sound is awfully intriguing. It makes me smile. I want to hear it again. I slap her ass, the sound of flesh hitting flesh drowning everything else beneath it. “What have I done to deserve such a punishment?” she whines as she tries to wiggle away from me. Her tone is still playful as a smile rings through her words. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” I say through a groan and slap her ass one last time, marveling at the sight of her butt rippling due to impact. I grab her and thrust deep within her, frantically, losing my rhythm, as she tries to meet my thrusts. <</if>> [["I'm coming."|tinsae_malecum]]

\<<if $confident_top is true>> I slap her ass, the sound of flesh hitting flesh drowning everything else beneath it. From the corner of my eye I see Caleb shifting a little, taking half a step towards us, probably to make sure I won’t hurt his mistress too much. I give her ass another slap just to spite him and she winces in pain and pleasure. “What have I done to deserve such a punishment?” she whines as she tries to wiggle away from me. Her tone is still playful as a smile rings through her words. “This is a reward,” I say through a groan and slap her ass one last time, marveling at the sight of her butt rippling due to impact. I grab her and thrust deep within her, frantically, losing my rhythm, as she tries to meet my thrusts. \<<elseif $hesitant_top is true>> I bite my lip as I look at Tinsae’s ass jiggling with the rhythm of my thrusts. I grab her tighter and make her wince in pain. The sound is awfully intriguing. It makes me smile. I want to hear it again. I slap her ass, the sound of flesh hitting flesh drowning everything else beneath it. From the corner of my eye I see Caleb shifting a little, taking half a step towards us, probably to make sure I won’t hurt his mistress too much. I give her ass another slap just to spite him and she winces in pain and pleasure. “What have I done to deserve such a punishment?” she whines as she tries to wiggle away from me. Her tone is still playful as a smile rings through her words. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” I say through a groan and slap her ass one last time, marveling at the sight of her butt rippling due to impact. I grab her and thrust deep within her, frantically, losing my rhythm, as she tries to meet my thrusts. <</if>> [["I'm coming."|tinsae_malecum]]

His gaze is sharp and unbothered as he continues to look at us. The only thing betraying his state of arousal is the barely noticeable bulge underneath his tunic. So, he’s not as unbothered as he lets on. I’m fucking your mistress and you like it, you pervert. I give him a smirk and grab Tinsae’s ass even tighter, making her wince in pain and pleasure, as I start to thrust deep within her, frantically, losing my rhythm, as she tries to meet my thrusts. [["I'm coming."|tinsae_malecum]]

Jarring, pulsing climax takes over me as I start convulsing against her, flooding inside her, grunting in pleasure. Tinsae’s back arches as she cries in her own release, her nails digging deep into the skin of my thigh. My upper body falls limp on her back as I chuckle against her. The feeling of giddiness takes over me as the remnants of orgasm run through me. Then, a realization hits me. “Oh, fuck, I just came inside you.” The state of delirium made me sloppy. This is not good. Tinsae merely giggles as she slumps on the floor. “Don’t worry.” She smiles like a cat as she starts to stretch herself on the floor. “It doesn’t matter.” “What do you mean?” “Trust me, my dear.” I sigh in relief. Good. I don’t doubt Tinsae’s abilities as a mother but I’m not sure if I’m ready to be a father. “You’d be a good father,” she says with a smile, her eyes meaning every bit of it. “Hm.” I grunt with a smile. [[“You’d make a good mother.”]] [[“Never.”]]

She gives me a radiant smile but it’s briefly darkened by a shadow crossing her gaze. “Thank you,” she says and beckons me to join her on the floor. I almost ask but I sense pain in her words. Maybe another time. So, I curl up next to her, studying her face, making sure she knows she can confide in me if she needs to. Soon enough, however, I fall asleep in her embrace.

“Never? Truly?” she asks without sounding surprised. She must’ve realized that about me already. “Not in this lifetime.” “In another life.” She smiles and beckons me to join her on the floor. “Maybe,” I say and curl up next to her. I fall asleep in her embrace.

Tinsae’s back is arched as she cries in her own release, her nails digging deep into the skin of my thigh. As a revenge, I grab her ass tightly as the pulsating waves of pleasure start to take over me, making me moan with her. We catch our breath in a perfectly disorganized rhythm, both of us releasing the other from our clutches. Then, she starts giggling. Hearing it makes me chuckle and I can’t help but to join her. We slump onto the floor as the fit of laughter takes the both of us over, the remnants of my orgasm running through me, making me as giddy as she is. She stretches like a cat on the floor, still giggling. “What’s so funny?” I ask. “I just feel good. With you.” She grabs me in her embrace and I don’t fight it. The smile on my face almost hurts my cheeks. “Me, too.” I cuddle against her, against her warmth. She gives me a lingering kiss on my forehead, making me sigh. "You're marvelous," she compliments me and I give her a squeeze in response. The safety of her cuddle makes me fall asleep in an instant.

She giggles at the change of position and shakes her bubble butt playfully, but when I shove the dildo back inside her, the laughter turns into a low moan. \<<if $confident_top is true>> I give her no time to recover as I start to pump the dildo inside her quickly and without mercy. The sounds of fucking fills the room, the sounds of wetness, her moans and whimpers mix together. \<<elseif $hesitant_top is true>> “I’m sorry, I–” I try to explain my actions but she starts to thrust herself against the dildo. “Don’t worry about it,” she says with her voice breathy and needy. Encouraged by her words, I start to pump the dildo against her. The sounds of fucking fills the room, the sounds of wetness, her moans and whimpers mix together. <</if>>\ \<<if $caleb_be_gone is true>> [[Focus on Tinsae.|tinsae_nocalebfem]] \<<else>> [[Focus on Tinsae.|tinsae_calebfem]] [[Look at Caleb.|tinsae_lookfem]] <</if>>\

\<<if $confident_top is true>> I slap her ass, the sound of flesh hitting flesh drowning everything else beneath it. From the corner of my eye I see Caleb shifting a little, taking half a step towards us, probably to make sure I won’t hurt his mistress too much. I give her ass another slap just to spite him and she winces in pain and pleasure. “What have I done to deserve such a punishment?” she whines as she tries to wiggle away from me. Her tone is still playful as a smile rings through her words. “This is a reward,” I say through a groan and slap her ass one last time, marveling at the sight of her butt rippling due to impact. I grab her and thrust the dildo deep within her, frantically, losing my rhythm as she tries to meet my thrusts. \<<elseif $hesitant_top is true>> I bite my lip as I look at Tinsae’s ass jiggling with the rhythm of my thrusts. I grab her tighter and make her wince in pain. The sound is awfully intriguing. It makes me smile. I want to hear it again. I slap her ass, the sound of flesh hitting flesh drowning everything else beneath it. From the corner of my eye I see Caleb shifting a little, taking half a step towards us, probably to make sure I won’t hurt his mistress too much. I give her ass another slap just to spite him and she winces in pain and pleasure. “What have I done to deserve such a punishment?” she whines as she tries to wiggle away from me. Her tone is still playful as a smile rings through her words. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” I say through a groan and slap her ass one last time, marveling at the sight of her butt rippling due to impact. I grab her and thrust deep within her, frantically, losing my rhythm as she tries to meet my thrusts. <</if>> I free her ass reluctantly as my fingers dive to rub my own clit. [["I'm coming."|tinsae_femcum]]

His gaze is sharp and unbothered as he continues to look at us. The only thing betraying his state of arousal is the barely noticeable bulge underneath his tunic. So, he’s not as unbothered as he lets on. I’m fucking your mistress and you like it, you pervert. I give him a smirk and grab Tinsae’s ass even tighter, making her wince in pain and pleasure, as I start to pound the dildo deep inside her. With a grunt, I free my other hand and start massaging my clit. [["I'm coming."|tinsae_femcum]]

\<<if $confident_top is true>> I slap her ass, the sound of flesh hitting flesh drowning everything else beneath it. “What have I done to deserve such a punishment?” she whines as she tries to wiggle away from me. Her tone is still playful as a smile rings through her words. “This is a reward,” I say through a groan and slap her ass one last time, marveling at the sight of her butt rippling due to impact. I grab her and thrust the dildo deep within her, frantically, losing my rhythm as she tries to meet my thrusts. \<<elseif $hesitant_top is true>> I bite my lip as I look at Tinsae’s ass jiggling with the rhythm of my thrusts. I grab her tighter and make her wince in pain. The sound is awfully intriguing. It makes me smile. I want to hear it again. I slap her ass, the sound of flesh hitting flesh drowning everything else beneath it. “What have I done to deserve such a punishment?” she whines as she tries to wiggle away from me. Her tone is still playful as a smile rings through her words. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” I say through a groan and slap her ass one last time, marveling at the sight of her butt rippling due to impact. I grab her and thrust deep within her, frantically, losing my rhythm as she tries to meet my thrusts. <</if>> I free her ass reluctantly as my fingers dive to rub my own clit. [["I'm coming."|tinsae_femcum]]

It’s always suspicious when Camilla invites me to her villa. Her servant guided me to the garden and left me here by myself. As I look at the unnaturally symmetrical garden filled with statues of Roman gods, the feeling of unease doesn’t let go of me. The note she sent me seemed urgent, but I don’t understand why we couldn’t meet at a different location. “Took you long enough.” A familiar voice berates me as I turn to greet Camilla. An all too recognizable frown distorts her face. “I almost went to sleep.” [["You should be happy that I'm here at all."]] [["I'm sorry, Marcus made up things for me to do."]]

“I am,” she says in a sudden burst of honesty. A small pout still lingers on her. “I’m just irked. I…” She searches for the right words. “Was afraid that you wouldn’t come.” I raise my brows at the sudden revelation. “Really? You?” “Who else?” she snaps. I smirk at the outburst. Why is this so important to her? [[Continue|c_continue]]

He probably knew I had somewhere important to be. The asshole. The frown deepens on Camilla's face when she hears Marcus’s name. “Please, don’t sully the evening with that idiot’s name.” She scoffs. “You should just gut him and be done with it.” Then, when she realizes I might be inclined to do just that, she adds, “Don’t. His sisters would be devastated.” “You care about that?” “Of course I do, they’re good girls.” She shifts uncomfortably, as if ashamed to admit that there are people in her life she cares about. [[Continue|c_continue]]

“Whatever, we’re not here to talk about that.” Camilla quickly replaces the frown with a snake-like smile and I just realize why she looks so different from the usual. It’s the silken dress that she wears. It looks light and soft, almost see through. She wears herself with the same sense of confidence and dominance as she usually does, but the light blue dress softens the impact. She smirks with pleasure when she notices me giving her an appreciative lookover. Skillfully, like she wants to present her best assets, she turns to show off the elegant curve of her back beneath her draped dress. That, and her perfectly curved buttocks. [["Are you showing off? How unlike you."]] [["You are beautiful."]]

She gives me a sly smile over her shoulder. “You know it’s only when I need something from you.” “Naturally, as the gods intended.” She laughs, the tone lighter than usual. She’s suspiciously happy about something and isn’t afraid to show it. It's almost concerning. [[Continue|c_continue1]]

I give her an appreciative smile. She knows it but it doesn’t hurt to say it. Or maybe, with her, it might hurt. She gives me an almost genuine smile as she turns back to me, sizing me up. [["As are you," she says.]] [["And you are handsome," she says.]]

I squint my eyes at the compliment. Now I know for certain that there’s something she wants from me, something I might not be willing to do for her if she didn’t soften me up first. She frowns at the sight of my face. “Don’t look at me like that. Can’t I appreciate you and vocalize it?” “We both know there’s something you want from me.” [[Continue|c_continue1]]

"And now you need to shut your mouth." She places her finger on my lips, sending shivers down my spine. “You didn’t come here to talk.” [["I didn't?"]] [[I didn't.]]

“The letter said that I should be here urgently. I thought you were in trouble.” I speak despite the finger on my lips. She purses her lips at my words, evidently trying not to laugh. Instead, she says, “You are adorable.” She leans in closer to me, her blood red lips slightly ajar. “You’re here to get fucked by me.” “Oh?” “Or you can fuck me. Whatever, that’s not the point.” "Fuck you? Are you sure? I thought you weren't into that..." "I am tonight. That's the price I'm willing to pay to see the look on his face." “Whose face?" I blink. “You'll see. The point of tonight is punishment.” No wonder she seems happy. Punishment is her favorite pastime. “Whose?” “Stop asking questions.” She takes my hand in hers, her grip firm and decisive. Before I follow her, however, there’s something bothering me. [["Where's the Legate?"]]

No, I didn’t. From the tone of her letter it was clear what the meaning of the meeting was. I touch the tip of her finger with my tongue and smile when she smirks in surprise. “Good. You’re not completely daft.” [[Bite her finger.]] [["No, ma'am."]]

I ask, certain that I don’t want to stumble on him while canoodling with his wife. She snickers at the question and doesn’t provide an answer. The sound is evil in nature and there’s nothing surprising about that. Her evil schemes know no limit. I can only hope the scheme doesn’t involve me getting beheaded by a jealous husband. [[Camilla leads me to the bedroom.]]

Annoyed by her condescending words, I bite down on her finger. Not too hard, I don’t want to feel the cracking of her joints against my teeth, but hard enough to make her yelp in pain. “You fucker,” she hisses and stomps on my foot hard enough to make me let her go. “Spare your antics to the bedroom, you absolute animal.” I snicker. “So I can bite you if I do it in the bedroom?” She sighs loudly. “If that’s your thing, then by all means. But I will have my revenge and you can’t complain.” “I won’t.” It’s a promise. The banter is nice enough, however, there’s something that bothers me. [["Where's the Legate?"]]

She sighs in contentment, pleased to hear me exalt her. I kiss her knuckles, taking in the scent of her saffron and the spring wind. When I open my eyes, there’s an appeased smile on her lips. “You have manners,” she purrs. She takes a hold of my chin and gives me a hungry smile. “You will be rewarded for it,” she promises in a low murmur. I smile at the promise. However, there’s something that bothers me. [["Where's the Legate?"]]

Camilla opens the door and my fight or flight instinct gets ignited: The Legate sits at the corner of the room. I tense up, but Camilla’s hand on the small of my back makes me relax. At least a little. The Legate raises his gaze to meet mine, but instead of the anger that I was expecting, there’s an apologizing smile. \<<if $sex is "male">> “You poor lad,” he says with a deep sigh. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> “You poor lad,” he says with a deep sigh. Still he calls me a lad, despite knowing the truth. <</if>>\ “I don’t begrudge you for falling into my wife’s webs. She’s a handful.” He looks at the bindings on his hands and ankles. “I’m to be an unwilling audience for my wife’s habit of cheating,” he says. “I can only hope that this stays behind these doors. I would hate for my friends to know.” I blink at the calm words. He sounds only slightly irritated. “You’re what?” Camilla scoffs. “Unwilling? Don’t lie, old man, you’re dying to see me receive the pleasure you cannot offer me. Besides, your friends already know that you’re useless.” Legate flinches at the cruel words. “Rude, as expected, and nothing I’m not used to. Could you at least untie the rope?” Camilla walks to the chair to make sure the bindings hold. “I don’t want you to try and join.” “I would certainly not do that.” Camilla shoots me a look that tells me that he definitely would. [["Why do you want him to watch?"]]

Legate grumbles, “I was thinking the same thing. It’s a little humiliating.” His words are still light despite his circumstances. Perhaps he wished I would deny her request and he could continue his uneventful evening in peace. “Shut it,” she orders her bound husband. Then, she turns to me, a disappointed frown freely dancing on her features. “You’re not into it?” [["I didn't say that. Let's do this."]] [["I'm not sure..."]]

Legate groans in disappointment. “I had plans–” “You were going to play duodecim scripta by yourself.” “I was going to read Meditations–” “Ha! You can barely read, you donkey.” I look at their exchange that’s awfully familiar to old married couples. The situation I’ve found myself in is peculiar. Sensing my state of mind, Camilla gives me a look that borders on embarrassment. “Don’t just stand there,” she says, lashing out to hide her reaction. [["So, you want me to leave the room...?"]]

She gives a calculating look before a self satisfied smirk appears on her face. “I can convince you,” she says with smugness. “Oh, really? You can try,” I bait her with a smile tugging at my own lips. “Come here,” she orders and I… [[Obey her.|c_obey]] [[Disobey.]]

“Wha–” She gawks at the question. “And leave me with him?” “You seem so chummy together,” I tease her, knowing fully well how much she dislikes her marriage. She narrows her eyes, ready to strike. “You little shit. Come here," she orders. [[Obey her.|c_obey]] [[Disobey.]]

“No,” I say, standing my ground. “No?” She raises her brow, giving me a chance to repent. But I won’t. “You. Here,” I say, my tone harsh, and the Legate perks up with interest. I doubt he’s ever seen anyone order her wife around. Camilla sizes my gaze with anger over my insolence. Slowly, however, the anger is accompanied with the burning cinders of desire. She comes to me, capturing my chin, diving in for a kiss. I press her tighter against me, her still angry frame slowly melting against me. I smile at the thought of Legate having to watch. And she answers in kind. I break the kiss without a warning, yank her hair, and push her against the wall. She lets out an angry groan, tries to break free, but I’m holding her in place. I have the upper hand. “You are not bending me over like a dog,” she hisses through her teeth. “No,” I growl back as I pull her hair to gain control, making sure she’s squeezed against the wall and can’t move. She groans in guttural anger when I pull her hair too hard. “But I will still fuck you from behind.” I lift the dress and expose her naked skin to the night air. \<<if $sex is "male">> She gasps as I place the tip of my cock against her entrance. I rub myself against her, savoring the moment. In response, she lets out a string of profanities, cursing me and my bloodline, and I shut it all up by thrusting deep into her. She groans in anger and pleasure. Still holding her hair, I start to fuck her. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> She gasps in surprise when my free hand dives to her clit, rubbing her, making her ready for my fingers. She lets out an angry moan of frustration as I’m still pulling her hair, refusing to let go. A string of profanities shoots out from her dirty mouth, she's cursing me and my bloodline, and I shut it all up by thrusting my fingers deep into her. She groans in anger and pleasure. Still holding her hair, I start to fuck her. <</if>>\ [[Continue|cum disobey]]

I find myself walking up to her without a peep of defiance. She smiles at my obedience. “Good,” she says, her gaze solely focused on me. “You will have your reward." “I love rewards, ma’am.” The smile on her face is wide and hungry as she looks at me with her head tilted. Then, the expression changes into an evil smirk, as she captures my chin and dives in for a kiss. I gasp in her mouth as she squeezes me tighter against her. She invades my mouth with her tongue, penetrating my lips without mercy. Then, she breaks the kiss with a smirk on her face. She leans in, whispering, “Are you going to behave?” “Yes.” “Good. Wouldn’t it be humiliating for my creep of a husband to watch when I spank your ass?” I nod, drawing in a sharp, painful breath when she grabs a handful of my hair and pulls. “We’re in agreement?” “Yes, ma’am,” I wheeze through the aggravating pain. She smiles, caresses my cheek, and flips me around to face the wall. Still pulling my hair, she grabs my ass and squeezes. \<<if $sex is "male">> Without a warning she starts to caress my anus with her finger wet with her saliva. With my eyes widened, I look at her over my shoulder. “I–” “Stay put,” she warns me as she spanks my ass, the loud smack ringing through the room. I take in a sharp breath when her finger starts to penetrate me. “I’ll be careful,” she promises in a heated whisper meant for my ears only. She keeps her promise, taking her time with each finger that enters me, making sure I’m comfortable. All the while she’s holding onto my hair so I won’t escape her. “This is your reward,” she says as she starts to fuck me harder. I gasp as my hard cock squeezes against the wall with the rhythm of her thrusts. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> Without a warning, she shoves her finger inside me. The wetness is barely enough for it not to hurt and when I gasp in pain, I can see the smirk on her face from the corner of my eye. “I’m sorry,” she says and doesn’t mean it. “Be more careful,” I whine and in response she spanks my ass, the loud smack ringing through the room. “Fine.” True to her word, she’s more gentle with the rest of her fingers, rubbing my clit, taking her time. All the while she’s holding onto my hair so I won’t escape her. When I’m finally wet enough, she says, “This is your reward.” With these words, she starts to fuck me harder. The sounds of my wetness fill the room as I hug the wall at her mercy. <</if>>\ [[Continue|cum obey]]

I look at the poor man and his straining erection, I couldn’t possibly leave him in that state. I have a good heart after all. I give Camilla a small smirk, smack her bare ass, and go and kneel in front of the Legate. He inhales in surprise, unsure why I’m revealing his rock hard member to the room, but when he sees my intent, he gives me a hurried nod. Camilla steps next to me and immediately Legate winces in pain and pleasure. I look up without taking him out of my mouth, and there’s Camilla pulling his gray hair with a satisfied smirk on his lips. \<<if $sex is "male">> “Thank Hati, for he's a saint. I would’ve let you suffer.” \<<else>> "Thank Hati, for she's a saint. I would've let you suffer." <</if>>\ Another pull of his hair and he wheezes a ‘thank you’. His downcast gaze meets mine, and he groans loudly as his cock starts twitching, and my mouth is filled with his cum. Camilla raises a brow at me when I stand up. She flinches at the sound of me gulping the load. She gives me a long, inspecting look. Finally, she says, “You’re nasty.” “Guilty as charged.” Legate’s strained voice says, “I, for one, am grateful for your depravity. However, there’s still the issue of letting me–” “Shut up,” Camilla snaps at him as she starts leading me away from the room. She starts to lean to a farewell kiss, but halts. She looks at my lips like they were coated with dirt. Disgust taints her face. “Not into his cum?” I ask. Another flare of disgust. “You are a dirty little thing,” she whispers as she places a kiss on my cheek.

I give him an evil smirk. He’s not going to find his relief tonight. He will suffer for what he’s done. Camilla joins my smirk. “He deserves only suffering for what he’s done in this life.” For my understanding, Legate has refrained from causing Camilla to suffer. The suffering she’s referring to is meant to alleviate my pain. [[“I could kill him now,” I whisper.]] [[Smile. “Thank you.”]]

“I know the feeling,” she whispers back to me, leaving me unsure whether she’s joking or not. “But the trail of blood would lead to us and we’d be killed on sight.” “Patience?” “Indeed, my dearest attack dog.” I scrunch my nose at the nickname and she merely laughs and gives me a slow, lingering kiss. When the kiss finally breaks, Legate asks, “Could you let me go?” “No,” we say in unison and leave the room. “The servants will probably let him go?” I ask, even if I'm not sure I care. “I told them to take the night off.” She gives me an evil smile. “I think I might go and sleep at Tinsae’s place. Want to join?”

“Anything for you,” she says, and her words sound weirdly sincere. She emphasizes the words with a lingering kiss, almost too soft for her lips. She caresses my arm and there’s a small, genuine smile on her lips when the kiss breaks. Then, she shoots me with a forceful frown. “Stop smiling,” she snaps and looks away, a hint of redness rising to her cheeks. I kiss her reddening cheek bone and whisper, “You’re so cute.” “Fuck off,” she laughs and punches my arm. It doesn’t hurt. Then, the Legate ruins the moment. “Very nice. Could you let me go now?” “No,” we say in unison and leave the room. “The servants will probably let him go?” I ask, even if I'm not sure I care. “I told them to take the night off.” She gives me an evil smile. “I think I might go and sleep at Tinsae’s place. Want to join?”

Camilla pulls my hair and forces me to look at the Legate whose heated gaze is glued to our performance. She smirks, thrusting deeper, making me whine in response. Legate gulps loudly, his gaze fixed on my face. I try to look away but Camilla doesn’t permit it. “Oh, how he wishes he could join,” she whispers loudly enough for him to hear, making him blush in embarrassment and lust. \<<if $sex is "male">> “He yearns to fuck your sweet ass in my stead,” she says with a smirk. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> “He yearns to fuck your sweet pussy in my stead,” she says with a smirk. <</if>>\ I blush at her dirty mouth, at her dirty mind, as she finally permits me to face the wall once again. She fucks me harder, without mercy, trying to push me over the edge, to make me moan for her. I try to stifle my noises against the wall, but when I do, she smacks my ass too hard, making me wince in annoyance. “I want to hear you." \<<if $sex is "male">> I do as I’m told and let her hear my heavy breathing, my gasps of pleasure. She smiles at the sounds, rewarding my obedience with releasing my hair. Her free hand finds my rock hard cock and when she gives it a squeeze, I’m violently shoved over the edge. She holds onto me as I moan in climax. She kisses the back of my neck as I catch my breath. Then, a voice ruins the moment, “I never thought I’d see her fuck a man like that.” Legate’s voice is in awe, reminding me that we have an audience. Heat lingers on my cheeks as I hold his gaze, still dazed by my release. Legate looks away, shifting uncomfortably, apparently trying to hide his erection. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> I do as I’m told and let her hear my heavy breathing, my gasps of pleasure. She smiles at the sounds, rewarding my obedience with releasing my hair. Her free hand finds my tender clit and when she starts to rub it with the rhythm of her penetrating finger, I’m violently shoved over the edge. She holds onto me as I moan in climax. She kisses the back of my neck as I catch my breath. Then, a voice ruins the moment, “I never thought I’d see her fuck a woman like that.” Legate’s voice is in awe, reminding me that we have an audience. Heat lingers on my cheeks as I hold his gaze, still dazed by my release. Legate looks away, shifting uncomfortably, apparently trying to hide his erection. <</if>>\ [[Finish the Legate off.|sub legate]] [[Let him suffer.]]

As I fuck Camilla, I look at his husband with a cruel smile. And he looks back at me, his face red with pent up lust, his tunic giving away his hard cock. Pain forces my attention back to Camilla as she manages to dig her nails deep into my thigh. \<<if $sex is "male">> With a grunt, I punish her by shoving my dick as deep inside her as I can. She gasps in heat, lifts her ass, her body begging me to continue. I keep going, fucking her as fast as I can, letting her deal with my slamming thrusts. I finally let go of her hair and grab her hips that are desperately trying to meet with my thrusts. I squeeze her ass as her breath starts to become more irregular. Anticipating her orgasm, I dive in to bite her soft neck. She moans loudly as a heated protest, and when I suck on her battered skin, she’s pushed over the edge. She starts to convulse against me, squeezing my thigh painfully. And, with a groan, I quickly pull out and shoot my load on her silken dress. I smirk at the sight of my mess on her. As quickly as she catches her breath, she turns back to me with a reddened face. “You ruined my dress.” “Sorry.” She pouts at my non apology. “You need to buy me a new one,” she says, but the words aren’t aimed at me. She looks at her husband. “The gall, the gumption.” Legate groans at the insolent words and shifts uncomfortably, trying to hide his erection. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> With a grunt, I punish her by shoving another finger inside her. She gasps in heat, lifts her ass, her body begging me to continue. I keep going, fucking her as fast as I can. Finally I have to let go of her hair and free my hand for myself and my pleasure. She gives me a sly smile over her shoulder and takes a hold of my arm that’s now rubbing my own clit. I return the heated smile and her breath starts to become more irregular. She meets my thrusts with her hips, gasping for air. Anticipating her orgasm, I dive in to bite her soft neck. She moans loudly as a heated protest, and when I suck on her battered skin, she’s pushed over the edge. She starts to convulse against my fingers, squeezing my thigh painfully. And, with a groan, I grab her ass and climax with her. There's a moment of blissful silence as the both of us breath in irregular unison. “I never thought I’d see a woman fuck my wife like that,” Legate says in awe, reminding me that we have an audience. “Who said you could speak, you creep?” Camilla hisses at him as she’s still catching her breath. Legate looks away, shifting uncomfortably, apparently trying to hide his erection. <</if>>\ [[Finish the Legate off.]] [[Let him suffer.]]

I look at the poor man and his straining erection, I couldn’t possibly leave him in that state. I have a good heart after all. I give Camilla a small, sneaky smirk, and go and kneel in front of the Legate. He inhales in surprise, unsure why I’m revealing his rock hard member to the room, but when he sees my intent, he gives me a hurried nod. Camilla steps next to me and immediately Legate winces in pain and pleasure. I look up without taking him out of my mouth, and there’s Camilla pulling his gray hair with a satisfied smirk on his lips. \<<if $sex is "male">> “Thank Hati, for he's a saint. I would’ve let you suffer.” \<<else>> "Thank Hati, for she's a saint. I would've let you suffer." <</if>>\ Another pull of his hair and he wheezes a ‘thank you’. His downcast gaze meets mine, and he groans loudly as his cock starts twitching, and my mouth is filled with his cum. Camilla raises a brow at me when I stand up. She flinches at the sound of me gulping the load. She gives me a long, inspecting look. Finally, she says, “You’re nasty.” Heat rises to my cheeks. “I guess I am.” Legate’s strained voice says, “I, for one, am grateful for your depravity. However, there’s still the issue of letting me–” “Shut up,” Camilla snaps at him as she starts leading me away from the room. She starts to lean to a farewell kiss, but halts. She looks at my lips like they were coated with dirt. Disgust taints her face. “I can go and wash…” “That dirt cannot be washed away with water,” she says in clear disgust. When I look away, she whispers, “But I like you nasty.” She places a soft kiss on my cheek.

I look at the table in his office with a frown on my face. There’s food and wine for two. It looks like I’m here to eat. Meanwhile, Marcus straightens the singular daffodil in its vase. “What’s this?” I ask, since it’s evident that he’s not going to speak first. “Food.” “I can see that. But why am I here?” “You’re here to eat food.” I almost groan at the non-answer. He knows what I’m talking about but he’s choosing to act like a fool. He shifts his gaze from one bowl to a goblet, as if unsure where to look. [["I'm not hungry. I'm leaving."]] [["You seem nervous."]]

“No!” he shouts. Then, after realizing he’s using the Centurion voice, he says, “You just arrived. And you haven’t even touched your food.” “Have you poisoned it?” He barks out a laugh. “As if I would poison you. It’s the coward’s method of murder.” I can’t exactly argue with that, he’s not the poisoning type. However, it still begs the question as to why I’m here. He seems almost desperate to keep me here. “Don’t be like that.” He sighs. “Like what?” "This is a meal for two. It’s not suspicious.” Saying it like that makes it even more suspicious. [["Is this a date?"]] [["This is weird."]]

He scoffs and his goblet almost falls on the floor. He manages to grab it in time and proceeds to act like nothing happened. “I’m not,” he clearly lies. I squint my eyes at him. “Don’t start,” he warns me. “Or what?” He lets out a deep sigh. “Or I’ll spank you. Now shut up and enjoy the food.” “But–” Another sigh. “$name,” he says and my true name feels like it belongs to his lips. “I want you to eat. Is that so bad?” “I… No. It’s not,” I say and ponder on the shift in our dynamics. How easily he used my name. [["Is this a date?"]] [["This is weird."]]

He scoffs. “Of course not.” Then, after a moment, he asks, “Would you mind if it was?” Without waiting for my answer, he looks at the bowl of olives as if they were the most interesting bowl of olives he’s seen in his life. Would I mind? I’m not sure. “Have you taken people on dates before?” “I’m not the date kind of person. I think it’s a waste of time.” Then, he adds, “But not… with you.” I raise my brows at the comment. It almost sounds sincere. “Please stop acting like this is weird,” he says with a sigh. [["Alright. I'm sorry."]] [["It is weird."]]

He frowns at my words. “How is it weird? Don’t people eat together?” “But I’m eating with you. You’re not people.” He purses his lips, as if I offended him. “You can leave if you want to.” [["Don't be so dramatic."]] [["I'm sorry?"|marcus_sorry?]]

He raises his brow. “Really? Don’t be. I can’t exactly fault you. This is a bit weird.” “It can be the good kind of weird.” He exhales an amused laugh. “Sure.” [[So, we start eating.]]

He frowns at my words. “How is it weird? Don’t people eat together?” “But I’m eating with you. You’re not people.” He purses his lips, as if offended. “You can leave if you want to.” [["Don't be so dramatic."]] [["I'm sorry?"|marcus_sorry?]]

“I’m not.” “You are. I’m not leaving anywhere.” “Because I said you could? Is that your form of revenge or something?” “Exactly,” I say with a pout. And he bursts out laughing. “You truly are an idiot.” [[So, we start eating.]]

He raises his brow. “Really? Don’t be. I can’t exactly fault you. This is a bit weird.” “It can be the good kind of weird,” I offer. He exhales an amused laugh. “Sure.” [[So, we start eating.]]

The food is, in fact, not poisoned. It’s actually quite good. Basic, but good. “Did you make this yourself?” I ask as I take a bite of a loaf. “Soldiers need to know how to cook.” “I’ll take that as a yes.” A smile lingers on his lips. “It’s a yes.” Soon enough, the food is gone. And the silence lingers. It’s surprisingly comfortable, yet there’s the anticipation of something more that stirs in the air. I give him a glance and he returns it carefully. Then, he smiles and shakes his head. “You make me nervous,” he admits. [["Adorable."]] [["How honest of you to admit it."]]

He chuckles. “Really? Does it take away from my manly man appeal?” “It adds to it. Makes you more human.” “Ugh, the very thought.” He acts playfully disgusted. Still, he feels somewhat nervous. Like this is all new to him. “You really don’t do this often, huh?” “No. I don’t.” He looks at his wine, looking for the liquid courage. “I wanted to do things right with you. I’ve… messed up a lot of things. I don’t deserve you to be here but I tried–” He stumbles over his words, looking for the right ones. It’s unlike him. Seeing him like this is almost unnerving. To make him stop talking, I place my hand over his. He looks at our hands with a slightly open mouth. He almost looks like he’s about to retreat his hand away from me but instead, he stays there. I warm his hand and it feels… comfortable. [[Continue|marcus1_continue]]

He shrugs. “You can see it, you have eyes. Would do nothing for me to deny it.” “You usually do. Deny your feelings.” “Hm.” He gives me a small smirk. “Annoyingly observant of you.” “I see all.” I widen my eyes and give him a playfully stern look. And he laughs. The sound is pleasant to my ears. It makes me smile. And he smiles too. Seeing it makes my smile widen even more, so much so that my cheeks almost hurt. It’s stupid and I should stop but I can’t. He says, “You’re beautiful when you smile.” \<<if $sex is "male">> “Beautiful?” I cock my brow. “Men can be beautiful, too. Don’t be such a rigid stick in the arse.” I scoff, yet the smile remains. \<<else>> “Oh, shut up,” I mutter under my breath. “You are.” He smiles and it’s genuine. <</if>> [[Continue|marcus1_continue]]

My attention is drawn by the couch I defiled with my boots when I first came to this office. Marcus notices the target of my gaze and scoffs. “I had to change the cover. Cost me a good amount, too.” “Good,” I say with a smirk. He snorts and stands up. He walks behind my chair, placing his hands on my shoulders. I take in a sharp breath, even if the touch isn’t unwelcomed. His soft, amicable touch is still taking some getting used to. I never thought that his hands could feel like that on me. But the words he whispers in my ear are awfully familiar, “You’re a brat, you know that?” His breath burns hot on my ear. [["Just with you."]] [["I can't help it. I was born like this."]]

He laughs softly, and the tone is gentle. It tickles my skin. “What an honor.” “It is. All of those headaches I gave you were a gift.” “And here I was, unappreciative of such boons.” [[He starts massaging my shoulders.]]

“And I thank the Jupiter you were.” “Jupiter had nothing to do with it.” “You can’t be sure, that man gets around.” “Not as much as Zeus.” “No one gets around as much as that horny old man.” “Why are we talking about horny old men?” “Beats me.” [[He starts massaging my shoulders.]]

His touch is gentle and firm, he’s used to this. “You’re good with your hands,” I commend him. “I’ve given my fair share of massages.” “To your lovers?” “No.” He snorts, as if the very thought was blasphemous. “My family.” “Niall, too?” “Of course. That man’s shoulders are tense as bricks.” I chuckle at the thought. He does seem to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Let’s not talk about Niall,” Marcus suddenly says. “Why not?” “Because it makes me think that he should be here instead of me.” His honesty is vulnerable. His touch loses some of its firmness, as if he’s ready to leave. I grab him to prevent it. Then, slowly, taking my time, I give his harsh knuckles soft kisses. “Don’t say that,” I say in between the kisses. “You’re here because I want you to be.” He lets out a relieved breath and buries his head in the crook of my neck. “And I don’t deserve it.” He remains there, slowly inhaling all of me, just as I take in the scent of his hair against my cheek. I nuzzle myself against him, exhaling in contentment. “Your scent is heavenly,” he says. I smile at the compliment. He smells like leather and something spicy. Something sharp and citrusy. It’s the scent I’ve grown to… like. [[He kisses me.]]

Suddenly, his hot lips find mine. The kiss is careful, as if he’s asking for permission to be there, even if I already granted it. I grab the back of his head and deepen the kiss, making him hum in relief. The kiss grows more needy, as if he’s been wanting to do this for months. In between the kisses, he suddenly picks me up. I laugh against his lips. Softly, with control and finesse, like I was precious to him and he was afraid to hurt me, he places me on the couch. \<<if $sex is "male">> Then, he breaks the kiss and gives me a hesitant look. “Are you–” \<<else>> His hand quickly dives beneath my tunic to grab my breast. I gasp in surprise and he breaks the kiss. “Are you–” <</if>>\ I interrupt his question with a hungry, impatient kiss. “Stop asking,” I command him and he smiles against my lips. His touch grows more confident, more like what I’d expect from him. More like him. I encourage him with my lips, with my wandering hands, with my open embrace. \<<if $sex is "male">> [[I want to fuck him.]] [[I want him to fuck me.|marcus2_continue]] \<<else>> [[Continue|marcus2_continue]] <</if>>\

“Wait,” I say and he immediately stops his movements. “I want to fuck you,” I whisper, causing his eyes to widen. Hesitation coats his gaze. “I… I haven’t been–” Fucked by a man before. “I promise I’ll be gentle.” I’m not sure if I want to be. He melts against me again as he smirks. “You don’t have to be.” Because he deserves harshness? Or because he likes it? Either way, I give him a sly smile. “Good.” Still smirking in surprising confidence, he gets up and leans against the couch with his ass up. Silently, resigning to his fate, he gives me a vial of oil to ease the entrance. I move the tunic off the way and hear him take a sharp breath. “Are you sure?” Now is my time to ask. “Shut up and do it,” he commands, his tone of voice usual to his Centurion persona. “Commanding me, are you?” I chuckle. He’s completely vulnerable and at my mercy. It makes me smile. Maybe I would’ve hurt him in the past. But now, the sight of his trust is endearing. It softens my heart. It makes me smile, makes me caress his skin. “Are you going to keep fondling me or–” “Shut up,” I say and smack his ass loudly. “I’m softening you up.” “I’m softened up and ready to go, just do it.” “Fine,” I growl and start to ease into him. He takes in a sharp breath. I lean against his ear. “Does it feel bad?” “No,” he grunts as his hand slowly caresses his cock. “Good boy.” He clears his throat as a hue of redness spreads to his cheeks. I kiss his surprisingly adorable cheek, feeling his coarse stubble against my lips. I start to fuck him. [[Gently.]]

“I–,” he says between the kisses. He looks me in the eyes, his gaze softer than I’ve ever seen. His dark grey eyes inspect me with such tenderness that it’s almost out of place. But somehow it still belongs. I wait for him to say it, whatever he was about to say. I want to hear it. But he doesn’t continue. Instead, he grinds against my groin, making sure I know he wants to enter me. “What were you going to say?” I ask between my needy gasps. “That I want to fuck you,” he lies. “No you weren’t–” But before I can continue, his hard cock pokes at my entrance. “Ah, I–” “Just say if you want me to stop,” he whispers as he starts to ease in, slowly, carefully, with his arms strained because he doesn’t want to squash me beneath him. [[Stay where I am.]]

No matter how bad I wanted him to suffer in the past, now I… don’t. I want him to feel good. I want to be the one making him feel good. It’s weird and wonderful. I sigh as I start moving against him. Gently, taking my time, as he becomes accustomed to my cock. He’d better become accustomed to it. I’m not going anywhere. The thought makes me smile as I take in his round ass, the width of his back, the scars that decorate his skin. Marcus groans. “So slow. Are you my grandma?” I laugh at the absurd comment. “What’s wrong with you?” He chuckles evilly and starts moving against me. “Put your hips into it,” he commands like we were in the training grounds. With an annoyed grunt, I pick up my speed. Finally, my cock starts throbbing inside him. I’m coming. And he comes with me. He grunts loudly and cum spreads all over his new couch. Seeing it makes me cackle in my ecstasy. He turns his head with a playful frown on his face. “Are you laughing at my couch?” “Your cum, not mine.” “Still,” he grins as he retreats from my cock. He gives me an almost hesitant look. Is he afraid I’m going to tell anyone? “My lips are sealed,” I promise him. He smiles but it’s not as warm as it previously was. “Do with the information what you will. I’ve deserved all of it.” Hearing his self-deprecating words makes me draw him into a kiss. A long, lingering kiss. When our lips depart, I whisper, “What you deserve is more kisses.” “You’re so sappy,” he teases me. “I know, it makes me sick too.” We share a chuckle. And another kiss.

I grab him and welcome him to put all his weight upon me. I want him as close as possible, I want to feel all of him. He slumps on top of me and I revel in his weight, in the sensation of his cock easing into me. When he’s fully inside, he gives me a soft kiss. He stays put for a while, taking pleasure in me and my closeness. He nuzzles against the crook of my neck, breathing deeply. I sigh against his ear when he starts to move against me. He takes it slowly, making sure that I’m not uncomfortable. When the friction makes me gasp, he stops and looks at me with concerned eyes. “Are you–” “Stop talking and fuck me,” I command him with flushed cheeks. He smiles at the words. “Fine, you brat.” He picks up the speed as he starts to fuck me with more fervor. Still, however, he takes care not to hurt me. Still he makes sure to look for every change in my expression, to make sure he won’t hurt me. When I start to pant louder, he smiles at the sound. Without taking his eyes off of me, he keeps thrusting, quicker and quicker, until I can’t hold it in anymore. He cradles me as I come. His strong arms hold me in place, the same arms that have been used for unimaginable violence, the same arms hold me as if I was the most precious thing to him in this world and the next. \<<if $sex is "male">> Then, as if an afterthought and with a loud grunt, his cock starts throbbing and he cums inside me. Still, he doesn’t let go of me. He holds me, inhales my scent, he squeezes me in place. My own cum feels sticky between us. “Um,” I start but saying it doesn’t make him move. It’s as if he was in a trance. In a trance caused by me. So, instead, I caress his wide back, taking comfort in his proximity. \<<else>> His cock throbs inside me but he doesn’t seem to come. I hold my breath to wait for his next move but nothing happens. “Did you come?” I ask, hoping that he didn’t. Children are still out of the question. “No,” he says silently. “Don’t you want to?” “Yes. But not right now. I want to stay inside you for a while longer.” I hum as an answer, not in a hurry to leave him either. I close my eyes and take comfort in his closeness, caressing his wide back. <</if>>\ Finally, after a good while, he asks, “Am I crushing you?” [["No," I say with a smile.]] [["Yes, I'm dying."]]

He raises his gaze to meet mine and there’s a smile on his lips, too. Without saying a thing, he leans in to kiss me. I smile against his lips as I realize that I could get used to his kisses. I could get used to this. To him.

He quickly gets off of me with a concerned frown on his face. When he sees my sneaky smile, he sighs. “Brat.” “Your brat.” “My brat.” We share a fond smile.

Niall gives me a sneaky, and slightly intoxicated, smile. He’s long stopped listening to his father’s dinner speech about the good old days, when the Romans were men and the Empire was still worth a damn. I stifle a yawn and he throws me a wide, amused smile. ‘Come with me?’ he mouths the words and gives me a sly little wink. Immediately after, his cheeks flush red. [['I'm enjoying the speech.' Nod and smile at his father.]] [[What is he up to? Give him a suspicious look.]] [[Look at Marcus.]] [[Look at Camilla.]]

When the Legate feels my gaze on him, he returns my smile tenfold, overjoyed to see that at least someone is listening. “The youth is not yet lost to us!” he announces to the dinner table. “The Empire will not fall tomorrow!” His sudden declaration jerks up the sleepiest of the audience. The Legate throws a disappointed look at his dark-haired jerk of a son nodding off. Marcus closes his eyes to drive the point home; he’s bored and tired. The Legate turns back to me with a wide smile. “It’s good to see that young people are still interested in politics.” “It’s my favorite topic, Lord Legate,” I say and it makes him smile even wider. It’s almost silly to see him so happy over my false words. I can hear Niall sighing and when I look at him, he purses his full, pouty lips at me. He knows I’m not serious. I give him a grin and say without words, ‘Fine, let’s go.’ He nods like an eager dog and gets up. “Father, I must fetch a bottle of wine I left in my office.” “The noble vappa? (As the mighty Caesar used to say,)” he adds to Camilla next to him. She rolls her eyes at the notion. “Do hurry back, son! The flutist was just about to enter the stage.” “Oh no, not the flutist,” Niall says with a genuine smile, even as his words betray deceit. “I will be back shortly, father.” [[Continue|restroom]]

He shrugs completely innocently, as if he has no ulterior motives. He’s merely offering me a relaxing walk at the park. At least that’s what his pure, virtuous gaze says. And I squint my eyes back at him. However, I was about to leave on my own accord anyway. Might as well leave with him. ‘Let’s just go,’ I mouth back at him. He nods like an eager dog and gets up. “Father, I must fetch a bottle of wine I left in my office.” “The noble vappa? (As the mighty Caesar used to say,)” he adds to Camilla next to him. She rolls her eyes at the notion. “Do hurry back, son! The flutist was just about to enter the stage.” “Oh no, not the flutist,” Niall says with a genuine smile, even as his words betray deceit. “I will be back shortly, father.” [[Continue|restroom]]

He’s here too, lounging lazily in his chair. He looks at his father but he doesn’t really see him. However, when he feels my gaze on him, his gaze slowly comes back to focus. He gives me a small smirk and mimics slashing his throat with an imaginary knife. ‘Would you do the honors?’ he asks me wordlessly. ‘Too many witnesses.’ ‘I like it when people watch.’ He throws me a dirty grin. I almost scoff out loud when I feel someone’s burning gaze on me. I turn to Niall whose gaze is drilling into me. His gaze is intense but otherwise wholly unreadable. He doesn’t spare a glance at Marcus who’s still grinning like a fool. ‘Are you coming?’ Niall asks. I nod, mesmerized by his fierce gaze. “Father, I must fetch a bottle of wine I left in my office.” “The noble vappa? (As the mighty Caesar used to say,)” he adds to Camilla next to him. She rolls her eyes at the notion. “Do hurry back, son! The flutist was just about to enter the stage.” “Oh no, not the flutist,” Niall says with a genuine smile, even as his words betray deceit. “I will be back shortly, father.” [[Continue|restroom]]

With her back straight as an arrow, she looks into the distance, not even pretending to listen to her husband. When she feels my gaze on her, she darts her piercing gaze to me. Her eyes are filled with loathing but it’s not aimed at me. She’d rather be anywhere else than here. And no one could ever blame her. ‘Flee,’ she mouths at me, her gaze softening just a fraction. Right after, her features turn back into sheer disgust when the Legate starts a reverent sermon about Tacitus and how right he was about the soft Romans and their vices. She gives me the smallest of the nods. I must flee, for she cannot. I return her stern nod. I will. I will feel the wind of freedom in my face and think of her in her gilded cage. When I turn back to Niall, he purses his lips in sympathy. Camilla’s and Marcus’s leashes are the shortest, and they regularly bite at them. Niall can leave. And now, for me, he will. I give him a nod. Let's leave. He nods back at me like an eager dog and gets up. “Father, I must fetch a bottle of wine I left in my office.” “The noble vappa? (As the mighty Caesar used to say,)” he adds to Camilla next to him. She rolls her eyes at the notion. “Do hurry back, son! The flutist was just about to enter the stage.” “Oh no, not the flutist,” Niall says with a genuine smile, even as his words betray deceit. “I will be back shortly, father.” [[Continue|restroom]]

Niall left me with the excuse of a restroom, the easiest one to use. And even if the Legate gave me a stern warning to come back because the flutist made the most perilous journey all the way from Augusta Treverorum (which isn’t even that far), I managed to leave. From the corner of my eye, I can see Marcus’s gaze follow me. I ignore it. As I exit the dining room to the freezing garden, a warm, huge hand quickly wraps around mine. Niall’s warm breath tickles my ear as he whispers, “I’m feeling a little naughty.” “Oh?” I give him a surprised smirk. “Uh-huh.” He nods as he looks me straight into my eyes, his warm smile coated with something mischievous and audacious. “Do you trust me?” “No.” He blinks and looks like I just threw a bucket of cold water at him. “I’m sorry, I was just teasing you. I do trust you.” “Oh. Oh, sorry. I mean yes, good,” he mutters, shakes his head, and tries to get back to the headspace he was in. “You were saying something about being naughty?” I encourage him. “Oh, right. Yes. Follow me.” He squeezes my hand and all but drags me away from the garden and back to the atrium. “What are you–” “Shh,” he says and continues to drag me. Just when I’m about to ask again, he gently shoves me into a small storage room and closes the door behind us. It’s dark. And tight. Niall’s hard body presses against me and I’m not sure if it’s due to the lack of space or if he’s doing it on purpose. His breathing is agitated and excited as his wide chest squeezes me against the wall and his hot breath tickles the skin of my neck. “Are you comfortable?” His voice is a low, whispering growl. “As comfortable as I can be in a closet filled with brooms and dust.” He chuckles and caresses my cheek. He intends to do something naughty. [["Are you serious? Here?"]] [[Kiss him.|niall_kiss]]

“Yes. I wanted to… Give you something.” “In the closet? What?” My voice is too loud. I realize it immediately after he shuts my mouth with his hand. “No one should hear us,” he whispers. “You know what could happen.” I take a sharp inhale as any and all potential consequences of our tryst rushes through my mind. My anxious thoughts must’ve shown, since Niall starts to slowly caress my hair with his free hand. “I will protect you,” he whispers almost inaudibly, his breath kissing my skin. “Whatever happens, I will always protect you.” “Do you promise?” I ask in a whisper as his hand frees my mouth. And he answers in a kiss. It’s a bold kiss. He pushes me against the wall with a small grunt, making me exhale in surprise. His soft lips are almost demanding, he wants something. He breaks the kiss to confirm it, “I want to…” He searches for the words as his breathing begins to get even more frantic against me. Whatever it is, he can’t say it. “What is it? Me to–?” “No, I want to taste you.” Taste me? “Do you mean…?” He hasn’t given me pleasure with his mouth before. It’s strictly frowned upon in Roman society. But he intends to break their ridiculous rules now. It makes my stomach tingle in response. “Go for it, Tribune,” I say with a smile ringing through my hushed voice. And in the darkness I can almost see him smile back at me. “Are you sure?” he asks despite his erection rubbing against my thigh. If I say no, he’ll stop without a second thought and we’re out of the closet. \<<if $sex is "male">> [["Just suck my dick already."]] \<<elseif $sex is "female">> [["Just eat my pussy already."]] <</if>> [["Just get down there," I hiss with my cheeks heated.]]

I waste no time questioning his intentions, for they are clear. I grab the back of his neck and press my hot lips against his. And he answers eagerly, his massive hands diving underneath my tunic as he starts to impatiently explore my naked skin. His touch is warm and soft but demanding, almost uncharacteristically bold. He wants something. No. He needs it. He tells me that by grabbing my waist with a guttural grunt as he pushes himself, and his erection, against me. He pins me against the wall and kisses me, as he needily grunts against my lips. The noise makes him break the kiss, his frame startled and tense. “We should be quiet,” he says, reminding himself more than me. I nod, rubbing my forehead against his. We should. We both know what would happen if we’re found out. “I will protect you,” he promises. “But I also want to taste you. Now.” “You’re already tasting my lips.” \<<if $sex is "male">> “No." Gently, carefully, his hand touches my erection. “I want to taste this.” \<<elseif $sex is "female">> “No." Gently, carefully, his hand touches my mound. “I want to taste this.” <</if>>\ He hasn’t given me pleasure with his mouth before. It’s strictly frowned upon in Roman society. But he intends to break their ridiculous rules now. It makes my stomach tingle in response. “Go for it, Tribune,” I say with a smile. And in the darkness I can almost see him smile back at me. “Are you sure?” he asks despite his erection rubbing against my thigh. If I say no, he’ll stop without a second thought and we’re out of the closet. \<<if $sex is "male">> [["Just suck my dick already."]] \<<elseif $sex is "female">> [["Just eat my pussy already."]] <</if>> [["Just get down there," I hiss with my cheeks heated.]]

My command makes him suck in a sharp breath as he squeezes my arms almost painfully. Just as I’m about to swat his hands away, he says, “Yes, my lord.” Obediently, he falls to his knees. He has barely enough room for his long limbs but still manages to swiftly lift my tunic, freeing my cock. Hesitantly, unsure of himself, he takes my erection into his mouth and keeps it there without moving. Just as I’m about to ask if he’s comfortable, or if he had a stroke, he teases the tip of my cock with his tongue. I suck in a sharp breath. “Keep going,” I encourage him. He nods with my cock in his mouth, almost making me laugh. The laughter quickly dies, however, when he takes me fully inside his mouth. I give him directions with the rhythm of my breathing, with the guiding of his head. And he reads my reactions like they were a holy scroll. Soon enough, he sucks me like it’s his profession. “For someone so unfamiliar with the act, you seem to know what you’re doing,” I commend him. [[Don't let him answer.]] [[Let him answer.]]

My command makes him suck in a sharp breath as he squeezes my arms almost painfully. Just as I’m about to swat his hands away, he says, “Yes, my lady.” Obediently, he falls to his knees. He has barely enough room for his long limbs but still manages to swiftly lift my tunic, revealing my naked skin to the chilly air. Hesitantly, unsure of himself, he seems to inspect me and my wet folds. Just as I’m about to ask if he’s comfortable, or if he had a stroke, he runs his tongue across my wetness. I suck in a sharp breath. “Keep going,” I encourage him. And he does. Finally, when he's encouraged enough by my sharp, muffled breaths, he tries to gently suck on my clit. I slap my mouth shut to stifle a moan. He hums in contentment against me. He doesn’t need that much guidance, and soon enough, his tongue is bringing me utmost pleasure. “For someone so unfamiliar with the act, you seem to know what you’re doing,” I commend him. [[Don't let him answer.]] [[Let him answer.]]

“Just get down there,” I hiss with my cheeks heated. Why does he insist on making me say so many times? \<<if $sex is "male">> All the while profusely and silently apologizing, he gets down on his knees. He has barely enough room for his long limbs but still manages to swiftly lift my tunic, freeing my cock. Hesitantly, unsure of himself, he takes my erection into his mouth and keeps it there without moving. Just as I’m about to ask if he’s comfortable, or if he had a stroke, he teases the tip of my cock with his tongue. I suck in a sharp breath. “Keep going,” I encourage him. He nods with my cock in his mouth, almost making me laugh. The laughter quickly dies, however, when he takes me fully inside his mouth. I give him directions with the rhythm of my breathing, with the guiding of his head. And he reads my reactions like they were a holy scroll. Soon enough, he sucks me like it’s his profession. “For someone so unfamiliar with the act, you seem to know what you’re doing,” I commend him. [[Don't let him answer.]] [[Let him answer.]] \<<elseif $sex is "female">> All the while profusely and silently apologizing, he gets down on his knees. He has barely enough room for his long limbs but still manages to swiftly lift my tunic, revealing my naked skin to the chilly air. Hesitantly, unsure of himself, he seems to inspect me and my wet folds. Just as I’m about to ask if he’s comfortable, or if he had a stroke, he runs his tongue across my wetness. I suck in a sharp breath. “Keep going,” I encourage him. And he does. Finally, when he's encouraged enough by my sharp, muffled breaths, he tries to gently suck on my clit. I slap my mouth shut to stifle a moan. He hums in contentment against me. He doesn’t need that much guidance, and soon enough, his tongue is bringing me utmost pleasure. “For someone so unfamiliar with the act, you seem to know what you’re doing,” I commend him. [[Don't let him answer.]] [[Let him answer.]] <</if>>\

He’s about to stop what he’s doing and give me an answer that I don’t need, before I yank him back to his place by his hair. He grunts in pain and annoyance and continues. \<<if $sex is "male">> I start rocking my hips against him, to make him take me even deeper. Only muffled protests can be heard before he takes my cock in his hand and starts to stroke me. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> He pushes his finger inside me and starts to fuck me with it all the while his tongue keeps working on me and my building pleasure. <</if>>\ “Don’t stop,” I command him and he doesn’t even stop to shake his head. Fervently, he keeps going, eager to make me come. Eager to please me. He wants to bring me all the pleasure in this world. He’s– I take hold of his hair and squeeze my mouth tightly shut with my other hand. Niall lets out a demanding, muffled groan and the spasms of pleasure start to take over me. \<<if $sex is "male">> I grab his head and fill his mouth with my cum as he steadies me with his arms, holding me through my orgasm. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> I grab his head as he steadies me with his arms, holding me through my orgasm. <</if>>\ Once the initial waves have passed, he gets up and immediately buries me in his arms. He kisses my hair. We stand like that for a few moments as my breathing slowly steadies. I’m shielded in his arms. Should I return the favor? “Do you want me to–?” “No,” he says and places another gentle kiss on my hair. “We need to leave now before they notice.” “Hm. Fine. But first, was it bad?” Give it to stupid Romans to limit their people’s deeds in the bedroom. “Absolutely not. It really helped that you can take proper baths now, too.” I smack his chest playfully. “You–” But Niall shuts my mouth with his hand. Someone is on the other side of the door. I stop breathing as Niall squeezes me against the wall, as if shielding me from the outside threat. [["Are there two naughty little barbarians in the closet?"]]

He stops pleasuring me and looks up despite it being so dark that I barely see him. “Thank you,” he says. There’s definite pride in his voice. “You’re honest with your reactions. That helps to navigate the–” “Niall, get back down there.” “Uh, certainly.” \<<if $sex is "male">> I start rocking my hips against him, to make him take me even deeper. Only muffled protests can be heard before he takes my cock in his hand and starts to stroke me. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> He pushes his finger inside me and starts to fuck me with it all the while his tongue keeps working on me and my building pleasure. <</if>>\ “Don’t stop,” I command him and he doesn’t even stop to shake his head. Fervently, he keeps going, eager to make me come. Eager to please me. He wants to bring me all the pleasure in this world. He’s– I take hold of his hair and squeeze my mouth tightly shut with my other hand. Niall lets out a demanding, muffled groan and the spasms of pleasure start to take over me. \<<if $sex is "male">> I grab his head and fill his mouth with my cum as he steadies me with his arms, holding me through my orgasm. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> I grab his head as he steadies me with his arms, holding me through my orgasm. <</if>>\ Once the initial waves have passed, he gets up and immediately buries me in his arms. He kisses my hair. We stand like that for a few moments as my breathing slowly steadies. I’m shielded in his arms. Should I return the favor? “Do you want me to–?” “No,” he says and places another gentle kiss on my hair. “We need to leave now before they notice.” “Hm. Fine. But first, was it bad?” Give it to stupid Romans to limit their people’s deeds in the bedroom. “Absolutely not. It really helped that you can take proper baths now, too.” I smack his chest playfully. “You–” But Niall shuts my mouth with his hand. Someone is on the other side of the door. I stop breathing as Niall squeezes me against the wall, as if shielding me from the outside threat. [["Are there two naughty little barbarians in the closet?"]]

It’s a voice that sounds all too pleased with himself. Marcus. \<<if $sex is "male">> “Did you make him cum, dear brother? Did I hear sloppy sounds of the mouth? Naughty, naughty.” \<<elseif $sex is "female">> “Did you make her cum, dear brother? Did I hear sloppy sounds of the mouth? Naughty, naughty.” <</if>>\ The fear and anxiety in Niall turns into sheer anger. He looks like he’s ready to break the door and strangle Marcus. [[Confront Marcus myself.]] [[Soothe Niall's anger.]]

That asshole won’t ruin my mediocre night that Niall just made better. I kick the door open and Marcus flinches in surprise. There’s a startled smile on his lips. He didn’t think I would come through the door. “He did make me cum,” I say, crossing my arms. “He’s not a complete disappointment, unlike you.” Marcus scoffs and just as he’s about to retort, I continue, “Were you pleasuring yourself when you were listening to us?” I ask. “Did you imagine yourself in his place?” The smile on his lips turns into a disgusted grimace. I hurt him. Seeing him hurt makes me smile. Then, without a word, he turns around and leaves. Niall appears next to me, placing his hand on my shoulder. “You’re a monster with your words.” “Your monster?” “Definitely.” He smiles and turns me to face him. He looks like he’s about to kiss me but we’re not in the closet anymore. There are eyes everywhere in this villa. So, instead of a kiss, he squeezes my shoulder. “Uh, anyway. Besides what happened with him, that was… Nice.” “Yes. It was.” We stand like that for a while, his hand on my shoulder, as if we’re just awkward, friendly soldiers. “Good night, Lord Tribune,” I say. “Good night.”

I place my hand on his rock hard bicep and lean in to whisper, “He’s not worth it.” My words don’t have the desired effect, for still he’s tense. Still he looks like a hound who’s detected a wolf near the sheep herd. There’s only one thing to get his mind out of things. I grab him. And I kiss him. After a moment of hesitation, he leans into the kiss. He buries me in his arms and kisses me. The passion of his lips only seems to be fueled by the notion that his brother is out there waiting for a response to his bullying. Fueled by the fact that Niall is the one who gets to kiss me in this closet. He grabs my waist, pushing me against him. And I gasp in response. Too loudly, of course. I could’ve helped not to but I didn’t. I want Marcus to hear that we don’t care about him. The kiss seems to last forever. And when our lips finally depart, both of us gasping for air that’s lacking in the closet, there’s not a sound to be heard from the other side of the door. Marcus left. Defeated and alone. [[I chuckle at the thought.]] [[It makes me a little sad.]]

Good. At least it will discourage him from bothering us again. Niall chuckles against me. “You’re a little evil.” “And you like that about me.” “Always,” he says and places the last kiss for the night on my hair. I breathe in his scent of herbs and flowers and smile.

Niall must’ve sensed my discomfort, for he takes some distance to look at my face that he doesn’t really see in the darkness. “He chose to come here to ridicule us,” he reminds me. He needn't. “I know.” A smile rings through his voice as he says, “Your empathy is beautiful.” He places the last kiss for the night on my hair. I breathe in his scent of herbs and flowers and smile. "Thank you."

\<<if $quinn_sex is "male">> \<<set $q_he to "he"; $q_him to "him"; $q_his to "his"; $q_himself to "himself"; $q_He to "He"; $q_Him to "Him"; $q_His to "His">> <</if>>\ \<<if $quinn_sex is "female">> \<<set $q_he to "she"; $q_him to "her"; $q_his to "her"; $q_himself to "herself"; $q_He to "She"; $q_Him to "Her"; $q_His to "Her">> <</if>>\ There’s a lone brasero giving some light and warmth in the mill where Quinn lives. It does little to warm up the stone floor, and it makes the floury air even thicker with its smoke. Quinn, however, seems pleased. $q_He gives me the biggest grin when I walk in through the creaky door. As a greeting, $q_he shows me the bottle in $q_his hand. “I stole this bottle from the evil witch.” “Tinsae?” “It’s strong. I don’t think I’ve ever had something like this.” $q_He hiccups before smiling widely, as if the sensation of being drunk is something to treasure. “It gets through my condition, it’s nice.” “How did you even dare to drink it, if it was from the ‘evil witch’?” “It just tells you how desperate I am.” “To flee from your sorrows?” $q_He doesn’t answer. $q_He takes another drink. I continue, “One would think that you’d get more easily drunk since your body is failing you.” I try to act with the same levity $q_he does with $q_his condition. It doesn’t come as naturally to me. “One would! Alas…” $q_He takes another hefty sip and sighs. “I could’ve drowned my sorrows for months now.” “I would’ve had a drunk for an ally.” “Another drunk!” “Are you talking about Camilla? But is she an ally?” “She does seem like she’d get you killed the moment you acted out of line. But worry not, dear friend, you’ve got me.” “A dying drunk with super powers.” “Exactly!” [[I laugh.|quinn_laugh]] [[I don't laugh, it's not funny.|quinn_nolaugh]]

The situation is silly in a tragicomical kind of sense. My best friend is dying and $q_he thinks it’s a joke. I should just join in the fun, the madness fits the both of us. $q_He laughs, too, but the laughter turns ever more manic and high-pitched. It’s not genuine, and it almost sounds like it’s disguising a thread of sobs. I give $q_him a concerned look and $q_he shakes $q_his head furiously. “Nothing.” [[Continue|quinn_retreat]]

I tried to act like $q_him but it doesn’t really work. I find nothing humorous about $q_him dying. Quinn’s laughter dies soon enough and $q_he gives me a disappointed frown. “Don’t be so sour. Sure, maybe it’s not funny but…” “It’s not.” “But what if that’s all I have left in this world? Bad jokes?” “Quinn…” “Don’t look at me like that.” $q_He pouts and I fail to see how I looked at $q_him. I reach for $q_him but $q_he shakes $q_his head furiously. [[Continue|quinn_retreat]]

Quinn retreats back into $q_his corner, curling up to $q_himself like an abused bird, plucking $q_his feathers until $q_he’s naked. “Quinn,” I start. “It hurts me to see you this–” “Thank you for coming, $name,” $q_he interrupts me. I almost think that $q_he’s bidding me farewell but, instead, $q_he looks at me with a sense of earnest gratitude. $q_He’s actually thanking me. $q_His eyes glitter with tears that $q_he refuses to let fall down $q_his cheeks as $q_he looks at me. $q_He’s been acting more sombrely after I found out about $q_his sacrifice. I try not to think about it but everytime $q_he looks at me like that, it’s difficult not to. “You’re welcome?” I say and clear my throat, unsure what else to say. “$name. I…” $q_he starts, $q_his words blending together. $q_He sneaks a little closer to me, as sneakily as a drunk person can. $q_He leans to me and whispers, “I think I’m the biggest shithead in this world.” [["Definitely."]] [["That's a bit of an exaggeration."]] [["You're not."]]

My tone might be light but there’s truth to my words. $q_He is a shithead and much more than that, $q_his victims would agree. Every one of them, for there were many. I look away from $q_him. When I look back, $q_he’s staring at me. $q_He says, “I think I shouldn’t keep bringing it up.” $q_He acts as if $q_he just discovered something revolutionary. “You think?” “I also think that you’re being really sarcastic. I think it’s because you don’t want to talk about this.” I sigh. $q_He’s picking up on my moods better but does $q_he really have to narrate them out loud? “I think…” $q_He squints at $q_his bottle. “That I’m right.” “Do you want an award?” “Another surge of sarcasm.” $q_He pouts before giving me a sad smile. “I’m sorry I can’t be better at this.” “At socializing?” “I’m getting better, right?” “Right. You’re certainly trying.” $q_He smiles at my backhanded compliment. It makes my heart feel heavier. $q_He accepts even little crumbs from me and acts as if I just gave $q_him the whole cake. \<<if $quinn_sex is "male">> [[Hug him.|quinn_hug]] \<<elseif $quinn_sex is "female">> [[Hug her.|quinn_hug]] <</if>>\

“There must be a few people that are more shithead than you.” “Really?” $q_His eyes fill with tears. “Thank you.” “That was a backhanded compliment.” “But it was a compliment.” “That’s… sad,” I say with a small smile. $q_He gives it some thought and finally shrugs. “If you’re sad about me being happy about backhanded compliments, you need to give me better compliments! Problem solved.” “You haven’t earned any just yet.” “Then I’ll make due with the backhanded ones.” \<<if $quinn_sex is "male">> [[Hug him.|quinn_hug]] \<<elseif $quinn_sex is "female">> [[Hug her.|quinn_hug]] <</if>>\

“Don’t lie, you know that I am one.” $q_He takes another sip out of the bottle that $q_he so treasures in $q_his hands. I can’t deny that what $q_he did still irks me. More than that. But I try not to think about it. I try to focus my attention on the regretful mess in front of me. $q_He is still my friend. “It’s not a lie,” I say and caress $q_his cheek. $q_He closes $q_his eyes and almost purrs at my touch. When I retract my hand, $q_he looks back at me like $q_he needed more than that. Like $q_he needs my touch more than anything in the world. \<<if $quinn_sex is "male">> [[Hug him.|quinn_hug]] \<<elseif $quinn_sex is "female">> [[Hug her.|quinn_hug]] <</if>>\

Is Quinn a man or a woman? [[A man.|Quinn is slightly drunk][$quinn_sex to "male"]] [[A woman.|Quinn is slightly drunk][$quinn_sex to "female"]]

$q_He looks so pathetic, how can I not? I don’t know if I’ve forgiven $q_him but I can’t bear to see $q_him this way. $q_His frail body stiffens with surprise. Soon enough, however, $q_he melts into my embrace. More than that, $q_he clings to me. “I’m sorry,” $q_he whispers. I don’t answer. $q_He doesn’t expect me to. To $q_his credit, $q_he knows that these things take time. Finally, I let $q_him go. $q_His eyes are still closed, like $q_he needed more, like $q_he couldn’t get enough of my embrace. “More,” he whispers. “Quinn…” $q_He blinks and looks away, retreating back to $q_his space. $q_He purses $q_his lips, clearly trying not to say something. “What is it?” I ask. “I will talk about something else than my death or the others’.” I nod. Preferably so, yes. “What do you want to talk about?” $q_he asks, desperate for topics, as if $q_he’s unable to come up with anything else than death. [["Our past."]] [["Our future."]]

$q_He smiles and when I blink, we’re back at the grove with $q_his hand on mine. “Do you remember the scents?” $q_he asks, $q_his gaze intently on me, like $q_he’s drinking the sight of me. “The lilacs,” I say with a smile as I look at the image $q_he conjured up. It’s exactly how I remember the grove. The scent of lilacs weighs heavily in the air. “The evergreen freshness of the pine trees, the moss, the grass,” $q_he says with a wide, peaceful smile as $q_he inhales deeply. “The past brings me comfort. I wish we could stay here.” “It is my wish, also.” $q_He places a gentle kiss on my hand with $q_his gaze intently peering at me. “You were always the most radiant in the grove. Your light shined the brightest here.” “I’m not radiant anymore?” I ask half-jokingly, my gaze lingering on $q_his soft lips. “You are. Always.” [[The vision ends.]]

$q_He gives me a surprised raise of $q_his brows. “Future…?” $q_he says with wonder in $q_his voice. When I blink, we’re back at the grove with $q_his hand on mine. It doesn’t look the same as when I left, it’s not the ravaged, pillaged version of the grove. No. There are traces of the Romans’ violence, but it’s slowly buried beneath the new greenery, the new life. Birds welcome the arrival of the spring, the lilacs bloom again. “You can rebuild,” $q_he says. “You rebuild and love and prosper.” “What about you?” I ask. The smile falters but doesn’t leave $q_his features. “I will be there, dear friend,” $q_he muses as $q_he places a gentle kiss on my hand. $q_His lips linger on my skin, $q_his eyes are closed. A sense of a lie lingers in the air but I ignore it, focus on the touch of $q_his lips on my skin. [[The vision ends.]]

The dust of the mill invades my lungs, the gloomy darkness offends my sight.“Can you summon the vision of the grove anytime you want?” I ask. “Yes. But I lose the connection to the real world. To you,” $q_he says with a serious frown on $q_his face. $q_He doesn’t do it very often because of that. Anything could happen and $q_he needs to know. $g_He lets out a tired groan. “I’m getting sober too quickly. I need to gulp down more.” With haste, as if $q_his life depended on it, $q_he takes the bottle and drinks it all down in one go. “That’s better,” $q_he mutters at the bottle. $q_He gives me a sneaky look. “Want to sit on my lap?” $q_he asks. “It’s cold on the floor.” “Are you coming onto me?” I ask, pretending to be scandalized by the notion. “Yes.” $q_He beckons me to enter $q_his lap. “Now hurry up, $name. My lap remains cold as a corpse.” I roll my eyes at the light remark. “Really?” $q_He tilts $q_his head at me. Then, $q_he cackles, seemingly realizing $q_his inappropriate words. “I made a promise not to talk about it, didn’t I?” “Quinn, I’m leaving.” “No! I’m sorry. I’ll stop with the corpses. Or death. Or anything of the sort.” “I’ll believe it when I see it.” [["Besides, I'm not sitting on your lap."]] \<<if $quinn_sex is "male">> [[Disgruntled, I enter his lap.|hatilap]] [[Disgruntled, I enter his lap but I'm heavy.|hatilapheavy]] \<<elseif $quinn_sex is "female">> [[Disgruntled, I enter her lap.|hatilap]] [[Disgruntled, I enter her lap but I'm heavy.|hatilapheavy]] <</if>>\

$q_He gives me a drunk, confused look. Then, realization brightens $q_his gaze. “Of course!” Quickly enough (for a drunk person), $q_he climbs onto my lap, instead. $q_His fragile body sways a little, threatening to fall to the ground like a rotten tree. I stable $q_him with my hands on $q_his waist. $q_He gives me a grateful, bright smile. “Thank you.” Our noses almost touch as $q_he continues to smile. Alcohol lingers in $q_his breath, invading my nostrils. $q_His gaze invades mine with intent. “What do you want to do?” $q_he asks, $q_his words filled with innuendo. “Nothing. You’re drunk.” \<<if $sex is "male">> “You have my word that I’m a willing participant,” $q_he says and shifts $q_his hips to rub $q_himself on my growing erection. I clear my throat. “Your word,” I start and $q_he rubs $q_himself against me again, intruding on my thoughts. “My word,” $q_he repeats in a surge of sultriness, $q_his finger tracing the line of my jaw. “Means little to me,” I continue with determination. $q_He gasps, as if in shock. “How dare you. You ought to be disciplined for such blasphemous words.” “How would you do that?” I ask, playing along as my voice hitches with another shift of $q_his hips. \<<elseif $sex is "female">> “You have my word that I’m a willing participant,” $q_he says and shifts closer to my ear, close enough for me to feel the heat in $q_his breath. Suddenly, almost violently, $q_he locks my legs apart and gives me a smile. I clear my throat. “Your word,” I start as $q_his fingers begin to caress my inner thighs, intruding on my thoughts. “My word,” $q_he repeats in a surge of sultriness, $q_his free hand tracing the line of my jaw. “Means little to me,” I continue with determination. $q_He gasps, as if in shock. “How dare you. You ought to be disciplined for such blasphemous words.” “How would you do that?” I ask, playing along as my voice hitches when $q_his fingers softly caress my mound. <</if>>\ I avoid touching $q_him, squeezing $q_his shoulders. There are bruises littering $q_his skin, I wouldn’t want to– $q_He stops what $q_he’s doing and looks at me with a frown. “You think I’m weak.” A sudden bitterness taints $q_his voice. “What?” “No, I’m just careful that I won’t–” “You’re careful because you think I’m fragile. I can see it in your eyes.” $q_He grinds $q_his teeth. “It makes me…” With a furious groan, $q_he takes my chin and dives in for a kiss. The kiss is ravenous, demanding, messy. $q_He forces $q_his tongue into my mouth through a crack that I accidentally left open. I take $q_his surge of feelings with a sense of confusion. I didn’t mean to insult $q_him. $q_He squeezes my arms with fury, preventing me from leaving $q_him. $q_He moans against my lips, angry and bitter. Then, $q_he lets me go, panting. “I’m not weak,” $q_he says. “You’re not,” I say in between equally labored breaths. I realize that I’m squeezing $q_his shoulders. Too tight. $q_He’s wincing in pain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–” $q_He grimaces, shakes $q_his head. “I… Just… Let it be.” $q_He buries $q_his face in my chest, rubbing $q_his forehead against my tunic. “You’re not weak,” I reassure $q_him as I look at $q_his revealed shoulders. They’re going to bruise. I didn’t squeeze $q_him that hard. I should’ve been more careful. Regret darkens my thoughts. “If I wasn’t, you could touch me like normal people,” $q_he says with the same tone of bitterness in $q_his tone. “I’m pathetic.” I could say all night that $q_he’s not pathetic, not weak. But it wouldn’t change anything. Instead, I wrap my arms gently around $q_him. There $q_he stays for a long while, quiet and unmoving. [[Continue|quinn_asleep]]

I straddle $q_his fragile body, making sure not to touch the bruises on $q_his skin. Something makes Quinn’s body tense up, making me fear that I touched something sore. Instead, $q_he says, “You think I’m weak.” Bitterness taints $q_his voice. “No, I’m just careful that I won’t–” “You’re careful because you think I’m fragile. I can see it in your eyes.” $q_He grinds $q_his teeth. “It makes me…” With a furious groan, $q_he takes my chin and forces me to bend down for a kiss. The kiss is ravenous, demanding, messy. $q_He forces $q_his tongue into my mouth through a crack that I accidentally left open. I take $q_his surge of feelings with a sense of confusion. I didn’t mean to insult $q_him. $q_He squeezes my arms with fury, preventing me from leaving $q_him. \<<if $quinn_sex is "male">> Heat rushes to my cheeks when I feel his erection against my inner thigh. He pushes it against me violently with a grunt, trying to force an entrance through the fabric of my pants. “I should show you–” he snarls between the kisses. “What?” I ask, my voice husky and low, eager to see. He grabs my ass and squeezes it in anger, channeling his fury into my soft flesh, making me wince against his lips. \<<elseif $sex is "male">> Heat rushes to my cheeks as my erection squeezes against $q_his stomach. It makes $q_him grin in satisfaction. With $q_his freed hand, $q_he starts to rub my cock that’s restrained by my pants. He hums with contentment when I moan against $q_his lips, the strain in my erection becoming almost painful when $q_he teases it with no mercy. “I should show you–” $q_he snarls between the kisses. “What?” I ask, my voice husky and low, eager to see. $q_His hands slip inside my pants. $q_He channels $q_his fury into my needy cock and starts stroking me with fervor. \<<else>> She grabs my ass and squeezes it in anger, channeling her fury into my soft flesh, making me wince against her lips. Her fingers move closer to my entrance that’s shielded by my pants. In frustration, she starts to rub my sex through the insulting fabric. “I should show you–” she snarls between the kisses. “What?” I ask, my voice husky and low, eager to see. She pushes her fingers, knuckles, harder against me, making me wet through the fabric. <</if>>\ $q_He moans against my lips, angry and bitter. Then, $q_he lets me go, panting. “I’m not weak,” $q_he says. “You’re not,” I say in between equally labored breaths. I realize that I’m squeezing $q_his shoulders. Too tight. $q_He’s wincing in pain. [["I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"]]

I straddle $q_his fragile body, careful not to crush $q_him beneath my weight. “Maybe you should’ve sat on my lap,” I say. “No, no, I can take you. All of you,” $q_he jokes. I give $q_him a dubious look but $q_he shakes $q_his head with a frown. “Just shut up and sit there, alright?” “Alright, alright,” I say with a smile ringing through my voice. It makes $q_him pout. Something makes Quinn’s body tense up, making me fear that I touched something sore. Instead, $q_he says, “You think I’m weak.” Bitterness taints $q_his voice. “No, I’m just careful that I won’t–” “You’re careful because you think I’m fragile. I can see it in your eyes.” $q_He grinds $q_his teeth. “It makes me…” With a furious groan, $q_he takes my chin and forces me to bend down for a kiss. The kiss is ravenous, demanding, messy. $q_He forces $q_his tongue into my mouth through a crack that I accidentally left open. I take $q_his surge of feelings with a sense of confusion. I didn’t mean to insult $q_him. $q_He squeezes my arms with fury, preventing me from leaving $q_him. \<<if $quinn_sex is "male">> Heat rushes to my cheeks when I feel his erection against my inner thigh. He pushes it against me violently with a grunt, trying to force an entrance through the fabric of my pants. “I should show you–” he snarls between the kisses. “What?” I ask, my voice husky and low, eager to see. He grabs my ass and squeezes it in anger, channeling his fury into my soft flesh, making me wince against his lips. \<<elseif $sex is "male">> Heat rushes to my cheeks as my erection squeezes against $q_his stomach. It makes $q_him grin in satisfaction. With $q_his freed hand, $q_he starts to rub my cock that’s restrained by my pants. He hums with contentment when I moan against $q_his lips, the strain in my erection becoming almost painful when $q_he teases it with no mercy. “I should show you–” $q_he snarls between the kisses. “What?” I ask, my voice husky and low, eager to see. $q_His hands slip inside my pants. $q_He channels $q_his fury into my needy cock and starts stroking me with fervor. \<<else>> She grabs my ass and squeezes it in anger, channeling her fury into my soft flesh, making me wince against her lips. Her fingers move closer to my entrance that’s shielded by my pants. In frustration, she starts to rub my sex through the insulting fabric. “I should show you–” she snarls between the kisses. “What?” I ask, my voice husky and low, eager to see. She pushes her fingers, knuckles, harder against me, making me wet through the fabric. <</if>>\ $q_He moans against my lips, angry and bitter. Then, $q_he lets me go, panting. “I’m not weak,” $q_he says. “You’re not,” I say in between equally labored breaths. I realize that I’m squeezing $q_his shoulders. Too tight. $q_He’s wincing in pain. [["I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–"]]

I caress $q_his hair with my eyes closed. $q_He nuzzles $q_his nose against the nape of my neck, tickles my skin with $q_his breath. “You’re tickling me,” I say with a smile. But I don’t get any answer. Instead, even deeper breaths continue tickling my skin. “Quinn?” No answer. I move a little to see $q_his eyes closed. $q_He’s deep asleep. Carefully, so I don’t wake $q_him up, I move $q_him onto the cold ground, buried by blankets. A frown crosses $q_his face but soon enough, a sense of peace takes over all of $q_him. A sense of peace I haven’t witnessed in $q_his face after what happened. $q_He looks… innocent. Free of the burdens of the world. Free of everything. I caress $q_his cheek, finding the skin once again cold and clammy to touch. The sensation makes me retract my hand with a frown. //free of everything// $q_He remains unbothered, unknowing of the storm of my emotions. I push the unwanted thoughts out of my mind. I feed the brasero a piece of wood to make sure $q_he stays warm for the night. Despite my sense of uneasiness, I place a small kiss on $q_his chilly forehead. “Good night, Quinn.” A small, content smile dances on $q_his lips with the light of the fire. $q_He looks alive and happy.

$q_He grimaces, shakes $q_his head. “I… Just… Let it be.” $q_He buries $q_his face in my chest, rubbing $q_his forehead against my tunic. “You’re not weak,” I reassure $q_him as I look at $q_his revealed shoulders. They’re going to bruise. I didn’t squeeze $q_him that hard. I should’ve been more careful. Regret darkens my thoughts. “If I wasn’t, you could touch me like normal people,” $q_he says with the same tone of bitterness in $q_his tone. “I’m pathetic.” I could say all night that $q_he’s not pathetic, not weak. But it wouldn’t change anything. Instead, I wrap my arms gently around $q_him. There $q_he stays for a long while, quiet and unmoving. [[Continue|quinn_asleep]]

!!!How the night of Samhain could've ended... The flames warm up my skin and I close my eyes to enjoy the sensation of heat in the middle of the late autumn coldness. The wind howls in the trees but the bonfire keeps me safe from its freezing claws. “Thank the Goddess for the fire.” Tinsae’s voice confirms my thoughts. She gives me a radiant smile when I look at her. She wraps the fur-trimmed cloak tighter around her body and looks at the receding backs of Floyd and the others. The festivities ended with us dancing around the fire. “Hati did the fire, not the Goddess.” Camilla’s voice matches in coldness with the autumn air. Tinsae raises her brow at me. Then, with a sneaky smile she says, “Thank you, Hati, for the fire.” “Thank you for the company,” I say absentmindedly, my gaze captured by the dancing flames. I don’t mind her or Camilla’s presence. Tinsae continues musing, her voice thoughtful and filled with wonder. “I’ve never been to the woods during Samhain. The spirits dance amidst the dark trees with the vibrancy of birds rejoicing in the spring breeze.” “How poetic.” Camilla scoffs. “It’s unnatural.” “Is it?” Tinsae breathes in the smoky air with a smile on her face. A blood-freezing howl carries from the forest and Camilla shifts closer to me, her gaze captured by the direction the sound came from. When she realizes that she’s almost glued to me, she gives me a scowl. But she doesn’t move away. A shiver runs through her body, warmed up by the fire. [[I put my arm around her and reassure her.]] [["Are you scared, Camilla?" I ask with a grin.]]

She flinches momentarily when my arm curls around her firmly tense shoulders. But, again, she doesn’t move away. However, she doesn’t spare me a glance, either. Tinsae gives us a knowing smile. She doesn’t seem to mind the closeness between her friend and I. There’s no trace of jealousy in her gaze, only intrigue and amusement. She even looks thrilled by the sight. With a cheeky smile on her face, she asks, “Camilla, are you afraid?” “Of course not.” Camilla gives me a quick look as if to make sure that I’m there to have her back, should the dead try to ambush her. “Didn’t you already walk through the woods all by yourself?” I ask. “I did,” she says as a challenge. It’s left to interpretation what the said challenge is. [[A moan of the dead reaches our ears.]]

Camilla seethes at the sight of my grin. “Of course not!” she all but barks but remains in place, ever closer to me. She doesn’t dare to move away. “Hati and I will protect you, dear,” Tinsae says. She gives me a sneaky smile, she, too, is wholly amused by the situation. Camilla opens her mouth to say something but decides against it. If I was a betting man, I’d say she was about to insult us. [[A moan of the dead reaches our ears.]]

The howls seem ever closer to us, it’s as if they’re drawn by the fire. Or by what happened with Quinn. Camilla seems to realize that only Tinsae and I can do something about the ill-willing spirits roaming nearby. She can’t beat them with her fists or scowls. It must make her feel vulnerable. She’s out of her depth and it’s curious to witness her try to navigate the situation. “Don’t look at me like that,” she says accusingly. “How?” “Like you’re analyzing my weaknesses.” She clears her throat and looks at the dark forest. Tinsae gives her a soft smile. “You’re among friends, dear.” “Friends who enjoy seeing me afraid,” she says with scorn. ‘Enjoy’ might be a bit too much but she’s not completely wrong. I give Tinsae a quick, almost guilty look. But she doesn’t look worried. “How about another dance?” Tinsae asks. “Let the howls of the dead be our music.” “That sounds macabre,” Camilla says. Then, she smirks. “Fine. Hati dances first.” I tighten my lips at the suggestion. She already saw that I can't dance. This is her way to avenge my condescension. The smirk on her face tells me as much. I shift uncomfortably. The howls make for a lousy rhythm to catch up on. Not that I’d catch any rhythms anyway. “I will dance with you dear,” Tinsae says as she takes the cloak off her slim shoulders. A shiver shakes her frame but she remains composed, reaching for me with her hand. “Let the flames lick our naked skin, dear,” she says in a sultry voice. [[I clear my throat at the innuendo and look away.]] [[I give her a confident smirk.]]

\<<set $dom to true>> “Fine,” I say and take her hand. The inability of doing something properly hasn’t stopped me before and I won’t let it stop me now. She gives me a delighted smile and looks at our intertwined hands. “Are you going to lead me, dear? You seem like the type.” “You can lead when it comes to dance but otherwise I like to be in charge,” I say softly against her ear, taking in the subtle shivers my words gave her. “I shall keep that in mind,” she promises. “Just pretend there’s no one else around,” Tinsae whispers in my ear as her hands find my pelvis. Gently but with determination, she guides my hips against hers. Then, seemingly after a moment of pondering, she adds, “Or, think of Camilla’s eyes devouring your naked skin.” [["Oh?" I give her a bold smile.]]

\<<set $sub to true>> She talks with the confidence of a woman who knows what she’s doing. She knows about dancing, but what about licking… Heat creeps into my cheeks. And she gives me a delighted smile. Gracefully, she lets me stew in my embarrassed heat. “Just pretend there’s no one else around,” Tinsae whispers in my ear as her hands find my pelvis. Gently but with determination, she guides my hips against hers. Then, seemingly after a moment of pondering, she adds, “Or, think of Camilla’s eyes devouring your naked skin.” [["Oh?" I try to clear my irritated throat discreetly.]]

“You think she’s into me?” I ask. “She’s good at hiding it,” she whispers so her dear friend doesn’t hear. “But I know that look. She wants to taste you.” Tinsae’s perfume mingles with the smoke of the bonfire, creating an intoxicating concoction. “Does she like to be tasted?” I ask. “She has yet to find someone she’d allow the pleasure of. But she has tasted others when it benefits her.” Interesting. “What about you? Do you want to be tasted?” “Oh,” she gives me a bold and a pleased smile. “I’m flexible with my desires, my dear.” “Good to know.” “I take it that you want someone who’ll bend over and taste you?” I smile, deeply pleased to be read so easily. She’s good. [["Now, darling, let's focus on the dance."]]

'“Does it make you feel bashful, my dear?” Tinsae whispers, leaning closer to me. She knows it does. She has eyes. But still I nod to confirm it. “I want to be there when you tell her that,” she says with a smile. She takes a strand of hair out of my face with a tender touch. “I imagine you’re her type.” “Really?” It’s really difficult to say with Camilla. “Don’t you think she loathes me?” “Loathes?” She lets out a light laugh. “No, dear. Look at her,” she jokingly commands and makes me look at Camilla. Camilla stares at me. She stares right into my soul. No, that’s not right. She’s not interested in my soul. She wants to rip my clothes off and devour my flesh. I clear my throat again and look away with blushed cheeks. Tinsae lets out a delighted little giggle. “She can be intense.” She touches my cheek gently. “I love to see your reactions so openly on your face, dear.” “I–” [["Now, darling, let's focus on the dance."]]

“The movement starts with the hips,” she whispers and her breath competes with the flames in heat. “Like so,” she says and starts guiding my hips with hers. \<<if $sub is true>> I obey her touch without a noise of protest. She smiles at my obedience. “Good,” she whispers against my ear. “You take orders well. I can appreciate that.” “That’s my specialty.” And she laughs at my words. It makes me smile. \<<else>> I smirk at her commanding hands. I want to grab them and guide the movement. And I try. But she stops me. I promised her that I’d let her lead this time. She smiles at my disobedience. <</if>>\ I listen to the wind, to the moans of the forest. An owl hoots in the distance. The trees creak in the wind. The crackling of fire is the sound that drowns them all. Just like it triumphs over the coldness and the darkness, it invades the soundscape. The might of the fire. With Tinsae’s help, I slowly start to catch up on the rhythm of nature. Of all the elements around us. Of the fire. I sway my body with the rhythm of the flames, relieving myself of all the stress gathered up within me over the past month. I let myself free. Tinsae’s white dress is tainted from the ash from the fire. It makes me want to taint her further. It makes me want to put my hands on her, to smudge her dress with my dirty hands. She gives me a carefree smile, as if knowing my thoughts. She guides my hands to her swaying hips, letting me touch her freely. Letting me ruin her dress. [[But something stirs.]]

There’s something I can feel at the back of my mind, sending tingles on my skin. I turn to look at Camilla. She looks at our dance with an unreadable expression. No, it’s not unreadable. She looks at us with heat in her gaze. The flames dance in the reflection of her eyes. From the corner of my eye I can see Tinsae looking at Camilla with a knowing smile. The air is prickling with anticipation, of someone taking the first step. I don’t know the extent of their relationship. I don’t know how they’d– Tinsae’s warm hand guides my gaze back to her. She gives me a warm, affectionate smile. "You're free to–" Before she can finish her sentence, I feel Camilla’s presence behind me. She stands there like a block of ice, unmoving, her face unreadable but for the flames’ heat mirroring in her gaze. Her cold hand lands on my hips. She leans in to whisper in my ear, “I like watching you with her.” Her words are rough and coarsened by the smoke of the bonfire. Heat rushes to my lower stomach. [[Kiss Camilla.]]

I grab her shoulders and pull her in for a kiss. And she lets me. But not without snaking her fingers beneath my tunic and sinking her sharp nails into the flesh of my shoulders. She lets me know that she’s in charge and will remain so. She will not give up her throne to me easily. \<<if $sub is true>> I wince at the force she’s hurting me with, the sound ringing pathetically even in my own ears. I didn’t even want her throne, I all but lament in my mind. Tinsae places her soft hand on my other shoulder, letting me know that she’s there if I want it to stop. But I think I like it. The pain. I think I like the way Camilla manhandles me like a doll to be discarded. Especially when Tinsae is there to make sure I’ll be safe. \<<else>> I growl in annoyance. Pain doesn’t suit me, it annoys me, makes me want to retaliate. I should be the one who inflicts it upon her. She’s clothed with too many layers, too modestly, for me to penetrate her shields and scratch her naked skin in return. So, I take her by her soft, white throat. It makes her snarl in pure anger against my lips. She breaks the kiss and in retaliation, grabs me by my crotch. Painfully. I gasp in surprise, letting her go, shielding myself from her. “Fight nicely,” Tinsae warns us. We’re still unaware of our boundaries, what the other will tolerate. The fight still lacks playfulness, and is still too serious. Camilla gives me a sneer, she’s ready for a rematch. <</if>>\ \<<if $sex is "female">> [[Then, Tinsae's hands find their way underneath my pants.|femsurprise]] \<<else>> [[Then, Tinsae's hands find their way underneath my pants.|malesurprise]] <</if>>\

Her hands are cold despite the fire. Despite the fire, the autumn air is raw and merciless. “Let me know if you don’t like this, my dear,” she whispers in my ear, pulling my ass against her hips while her deft fingers slowly sneak in to find my entrance. Gently and with a knowing touch, she caresses my already wet folds, grazing my clit from time to time as if by accident. I let out a heated breath when she touches my most tender spot. Finally, when she deems me ready, she starts to rub it lightly. She lets out a pleased hum against my ear when I let out a moan of pleasure. Then, Camilla steals my mouth back to hers, silencing my muffled cries. She kisses me fiercely. There’s anger in her movements, in the way she grabs my arms almost painfully. I don’t know why she’s angry but through her kiss, I accept all her violent emotions. With my clothing shielding my skin from her cruel touch, she pushes Tinsae’s hand against my clit harder, making me wince. “Rub her clit with more force,” she orders Tinsae. “Make her come, make her whine.” Tinsae hums in response. She doesn’t seem too pleased to take orders from Camilla. “Would you like that, dear?” she whispers against my ear. “I want to hear you say it.” \<<if $sub is true>> [[I can only nod in my delirious state.|femnod]] \<<else>> [["Just do it," I order her.|femorder]] <</if>>\

Her hands are cold despite the fire. Despite the fire, the autumn air is raw and merciless. “Let me know if you don’t like this, my dear,” she whispers in my ear, pulling my ass against her hips while her deft hand reaches for my hard cock. Determined by my lack of protest, Tinsae gently touches my erection, humming in pleasure against my ear, I let out a heated breath when she touches the tip of my cock. Finally, when she deems me ready, she starts to stroke me. She lets out a pleased hum against my ear when I let out a moan of pleasure. Then, Camilla steals my mouth back to hers, silencing my muffled cries. She kisses me fiercely. There’s anger in her movements, in the way she grabs my arms almost painfully. I don’t know why she’s angry but through her kiss, I accept all her violent emotions. With my clothing shielding my skin from her cruel touch, she pushes Tinsae’s hand against my cock harder, making me wince. “Stroke him with more force,” she orders Tinsae. “Make him come, make him whine.” Tinsae hums in response. She doesn’t seem too pleased to take orders from Camilla. “Would you like that, dear?” she whispers against my ear. “I want to hear you say it.” \<<if $sub is true>> [[I can only nod in my delirious state.|malenod]] \<<else>> [["Just do it," I order her.|maleorder]] <</if>>\

The two bodies pressing against me, the smoke, the heat, the cold… Tinsae’s fingers inside me. It’s all too much. “I will give you what you want dear,” she whispers her promise. Her hot breath grazes my ear. Without another word, she starts rubbing my clit with more force. Quicker and quicker. She knows what she’s doing. My breathing quickens with the rhythm of her masterful touch. I grasp Camilla’s shoulders when I feel myself nearing the cliff of pleasure. Camilla smiles at me. Hungrily, with her teeth bared. She wants to be the one to push me over, to see me fall. She grabs me into another violent, sloppy kiss. But this time, when I’m getting used to her rough touch, when I’m finding myself melting against her, when I’m gasping against her cruel lips, letting myself fall… She bites me. She thrusts me off the cliff mercilessly and I come, accompanied by the taste of blood in my mouth. I breathe heavily against Camilla’s content smile. I cling onto her even when I don’t have to, for Tinsae holds me in place, she wouldn’t let me fall. Camilla took a risk by biting me. The pain could’ve easily as well made me snap back to reality. It didn’t. And she’s happy to see it. She’s happy that she was the one to finish the job. [["Camilla!"]]

Ordering her is the only way to feel like I’m in control even when I’m not. There are two bodies pressing tightly against me, the smoke, the heat, the cold… Tinsae’s fingers inside me. It’s all too sweet. Tinsae scoffs and her hot breath grazes my ear. Without another word, and seemingly obeying my command, she starts rubbing my clit with more force. Quicker and quicker. She knows what she’s doing. My breathing quickens with the rhythm of her masterful touch. I grasp Camilla’s shoulders when I feel myself nearing the cliff of pleasure. Camilla smiles at me. Hungrily, with her teeth bared. She wants to be the one to push me over, to see me fall. She grabs me into another violent, sloppy kiss. But this time, when I’m getting used to her rough touch, when I’m finding myself melting against her, when I’m gasping against her cruel lips, letting myself fall… She bites me. She thrusts me off the cliff mercilessly and I come, accompanied by the taste of blood in my mouth. I breathe heavily against Camilla’s content smile. I cling onto her even when I don’t have to, for Tinsae holds me in place, she wouldn’t let me fall. Camilla took a risk by biting me. The pain could’ve easily as well made me snap back to reality. It didn’t. And she’s happy to see it. She’s happy that she was the one to finish the job. [["Camilla!"]]

Tinsae’s voice is shocked and appalled when she sees me holding my bleeding lip. She yanks me away from Camilla’s grasp into her comfy embrace. The contrast between pleasure and pain, between Tinsae’s softness after Camilla’s roughness… All of it combines with the aftermath of my orgasm, creating a dizzying brew of sensations. All my woozy mind and my bleeding mouth can do is to hum in contentment when I press my head against Tinsae’s soft, pillowy bosom. My head is nested securely between her breasts. “I was caught in a moment,” Camilla defends herself. “We bite when we have consent to do so,” she scolds Camilla. Tinsae caresses my hair and her words sound angry. I can’t see her anger from my pillowy vantage point but I can hear it. And, I can practically hear Camilla roll her eyes. Tinsae whispers against my hair, “Are you hurt, darling?” [["Yes, but I kind of liked it," I admit.]] [["I will have my revenge," I vow in silence.]] [["It hurt..." I whimper.]]

I can only nod in my delirious state. The two bodies pressing against me, the smoke, the heat, the cold… Tinsae’s fingers curled around my cock. It’s all too much. “I will give you what you want dear,” she whispers her promise. Her hot breath grazes my ear. Without another word, she starts stroking my cock with more force. Quicker and quicker. She knows what she’s doing. My breathing quickens with the rhythm of her masterful touch. I grasp Camilla’s shoulders when I feel myself nearing the cliff of pleasure. Camilla smiles at me. Hungrily, with her teeth bared. She wants to be the one to push me over, to see me fall. She grabs me into another violent, sloppy kiss. But this time, when I’m getting used to her rough touch, when I’m finding myself melting against her, when I’m gasping against her cruel lips, letting myself fall… She bites me. She thrusts me off the cliff mercilessly and I come, accompanied by the taste of blood in my mouth. I breathe heavily against Camilla’s content smile. I cling onto her even when I don’t have to, for Tinsae holds me in place, she wouldn’t let me fall. Camilla took a risk by biting me. The pain could’ve easily as well made me snap back to reality. It didn’t. And she’s happy to see it. She’s happy that she was the one to finish the job. [["Camilla!"]]

Ordering her is the only way to feel like I’m in control even when I’m not. There are two bodies pressing tightly against me, the smoke, the heat, the cold… Tinsae’s fingers curled around my cock. It’s all too sweet. Tinsae scoffs and her hot breath grazes my ear. Without another word, and seemingly obeying my command, she starts rubbing my clit with more force. Quicker and quicker. She knows what she’s doing. My breathing quickens with the rhythm of her masterful touch. I grasp Camilla’s shoulders when I feel myself nearing the cliff of pleasure. Camilla smiles at me. Hungrily, with her teeth bared. She wants to be the one to push me over, to see me fall. She grabs me into another violent, sloppy kiss. But this time, when I’m getting used to her rough touch, when I’m finding myself melting against her, when I’m gasping against her cruel lips, letting myself fall… She bites me. She thrusts me off the cliff mercilessly and I come, accompanied by the taste of blood in my mouth. I breathe heavily against Camilla’s content smile. I cling onto her even when I don’t have to, for Tinsae holds me in place, she wouldn’t let me fall. Camilla took a risk by biting me. The pain could’ve easily as well made me snap back to reality. It didn’t. And she’s happy to see it. She’s happy that she was the one to finish the job. [["Camilla!"]]

Whether I’m serious or not, Tinsae nods against my hair. “She ought to be bitten in return.” “When she least expects it,” I confirm her sentencing, retreating from her bosom to see her gaze better for the plotting purposes. “What are you whispering about?” Camilla asks. “How you’re an evil witch,” I reply, half-joking. Camilla scoffs. “Ha! Nothing new, then.” “I should come up with a better insult,” I lament. “What about a frog,” Tinsae offers. “She dislikes them. Something about their unpredictable jumping makes her shriek in terror.” She chuckles almost evilly at some memory that probably involves frogs and Camilla. “Really?” Ammunition against her? I’ll take it. “Tinsae.” Camilla’s voice is mopey. “Shouldn’t you be on my side?” “No,” Tinsae replies with a smile. “Should we leave now? The fire is dying.” Camilla gives Tinsae and I an annoyed look. With a scoff, she starts walking towards the dark forest. But a moan of the dead makes her halt her step. She takes a hesitant look at us. “Well? Are you coming or not?” Tinsae and I exchange an amused glance. And judging by the angered scoff, Camilla saw it.

Tinsae bursts out laughing but tries to muffle it against my hair. “You fiend,” she scolds me. “I’m a degenerate, yes.” Another surge of muffled giggles tickles at my scalp. “Does it mean you don’t need to be there?” Stuffed between her chest, she means. “No, I’m perfectly fine just the way I am, thank you,” I say and nestle myself ever tighter against her, enjoying the shakes of laughter surging in her body. Camilla’s voice sounds almost pleased. “See, $he liked it. I knew $he was a freak.” “Stop it, both of you,” Tinsae says, laughter still brightening her voice. “I’m surrounded by degenerates.” “You like it,” Camilla claims and Tinsae doesn’t protest against it. Finally, when I’m ready to depart from the bosom I wouldn’t mind spending an eternity to be squeezed against, Tinsae says, “I think we should leave. The fire is dying.” There’s tightness in her words, she doesn’t find the dead all that charming anymore. Camilla gives us a hesitant look. She doesn’t want to lead the group. “I’ll go first,” I offer. “You can be stuffed between us, dear,” Tinsae comforts Camilla with a sneaky smile. Camilla purses her lips, almost protests, but decides against it. “Fine, let’s go.”

I squeeze Tinsae’s soft frame tighter and let out a pathetic little wail of pain. It makes Tinsae’s muslces tighten in anger against me. “You will not do that again,” she warns Camilla. It makes me smile against her soft chest. “$He’s faking it, I can hear it in $his voice.” “Camilla,” Tinsae warns her again. Camilla scoffs in anger and all the while Tinsae caresses my hair. I sigh happily, glad to be protected by the biting coldness and the sharp teeth of the outside world. Deeply cocooned in her embrace. Finally, when I’m ready to face the dying fire and the angry face of our companion, I retreat from the embrace, despite wanting to spend an eternity there. Tinsae gives me an affectionate smile before hardening her gaze when she looks at Camilla. Camilla gives Tinsae and I an annoyed look. With a scoff, she starts walking towards the dark forest. But a moan of the dead makes her halt her step. She takes a hesitant look at us. “Well? Are you coming or not?” Tinsae and I exchange an amused glance. And judging by the angered scoff, Camilla saw it.

I wake up in a familiar field, surrounded by dandelions and the spring-like chirping of the birds. The light of the moon dances on the surface of the pond. The air is still, expecting. Comfortable. Familiar. I’m here. In the realm of Cernunnos. A sense of peace makes me exhale freely. My soul feels still amidst the dandelions dancing in the moonlight. Still something stirs in my heart, a buried worry. About the Twins and how they would react. “You,” a familiar voice says as a greeting, interrupting my thoughts. The voice that roars like a muffled thunder storm. I turn to the master of the meadow. They’re sitting on a pillow of moss with their goat legs crossed, their wooden skull tilting a little. A seed of a dandelion flies past their green, bright eyes, shining like jewels. The eyes of the hunter peer keenly at me. “The Green One,” I say with reverence. My voice doesn’t carry the same worry it used to. I can already claim to be familiar with the meadow, I’m a welcomed guest. Although, last time I was here, I ran through the forest like a– //a rabbit// The thought makes me dart my gaze to them. Their thoughts bled through mine effortlessly, without barriers. I cannot keep secrets from them, my mind is theirs to read as they wish. [[Smirk and think something naughty.]] [[I try not to think about what happened before. Heat rushes to my cheeks.]]

An involuntary smirk spreads across my face when the images of the previous night come to mind. Me bound by the vines and whipped by the branches. I give the Father of the Forest a sneaky glance. [[Continue|cernie_gaze]]

I avoid looking at the forest I ran to, where they chased me to. The night was terrible, yet thrilling. Is that why I’m here? To experience it again? The heat on my cheeks grows ever hotter. [[Continue|cernie_gaze]]

The gaze inspecting my every move is relentless and never-tiring. Every little twitch in my muscles is noted, analyzed. Like the predator they are. Suddenly, so fast I can barely make sense of it, they stand in front of me, their massive frame bent, their eyes peering into mine. The bark in their skull scrapes my skin. The noises of them sniffing the air fills my ears, warms my skin. “Smell. Worse,” Cernunnos growls like a predator smelling an intruder in their territory. “Worse?” What does it mean? What– But before I can ask, the angered god pushes me down, their nails digging into my skin. My fall is cushioned by a bed of moss and dandelions but I still yelp in surprise. They remain standing, towering before me, the air growing darker around them. The skull face prevents me from seeing their expression but the way their chest rises and falls in agitation tells me all about their state of mind. Their hairy legs paw the ground, scraping the green. Why the anger? Where is it coming from? Something about my smell made them agitated. Is it the blessing the Twins granted me? What if it makes me smell more like them? “I–” I try to explain the situation, what happened, but something catches my eye, something that wasn’t there before. Something pokes out from beneath their loincloth, the tip of something huge. My eyes widen at the sight of their cock. It just grew out of nowhere, bigger than anything I’ve ever seen. Their furry legs turn into that of a human, their thighs powerful and still long as a giant’s, ready to sprint after me should I try to flee. I look at the skull face peering at me, the horns that frame it. Silence is my only answer. They can’t possibly mean to… [[Eagerness tickles at my skin.]] [[I am slightly concerned.]] <<if $sex is "male">> [[No. I don't want this.]] <</if>>

Sure, maybe a tinge of anxiety presses down my chest but it’s nothing compared to the anticipation tingling down my lower stomach. I can’t help but to smile at the huge cock in front of me. It's already rock hard and ready for me, its tip glistening with precum. I bite my lip. “Is it going to fit?” I ask, not afraid. Just a little concerned, that’s all. But instead of answering, Cernunnos flips me on my stomach, grabbing my ass cheeks with their long nails, spreading me open for easy access. Suddenly, slowly, their lubed cock starts sliding inside me. With gentle force they fill me up completely. I breathe to relax myself, to make it smoother for them to ease in. Finally, when they physically can’t move further, they stop. And now, I am completely stuffed. “Ah, let me get used to–” I start but they won’t listen. Instead, they start moving, thankfully slowly, but it still takes time to get used to the feeling. Time they’re not eager to grant me. There’s impatience in the way they grab the back of my neck, bordering on anger. I don’t know what I did but they’re punishing me for something. \<<if $sex is "male">> My cock rubs against the moss as Cernunnos eases up on me. <</if>>\ I’m completely filled by their cock, covered by their frame, overwhelmed by the scent of dandelions. The thrusts become more demanding, forceful. “Scream, little rabbit,” they whisper in my ear, thrusting inside me. And I obey. [[Continue|sperm]]

‘Slightly’ is an understatement. That thing is not going to fit inside me. “I–” My breath hitches. Fear presses down my chest. Cernunnos is a reasonable deity, they wouldn’t force themselves upon me if I didn’t want them to. I can leave. If I want to, I can still leave– But before I can comfort myself further, Cernunnos already flips me on my stomach, grabbing my ass cheeks with their long nails, spreading me open for easy access. “I don’t know if–” I start but fall silent when their skull face nudges at my ear, urging me to take heed of their words. “Calm yourself, druid of the Isles.” I nod, breathing deeply, relaxing my muscles. They won’t hurt me. I know that. Suddenly, slowly, their lubed cock starts sliding inside me. With gentle force they fill me up completely. I breathe to relax myself, to make it smoother for them to ease in. Finally, when they physically can’t move further, they stop. And now, I am completely stuffed. “Ah, let me get used to–” I start but they won’t listen. Instead, they start moving, thankfully slowly, but it still takes time to get used to the feeling. Time they’re not eager to grant me. There’s impatience in the way they grab the back of my neck, bordering on anger. I don’t know what I did but they’re punishing me for something. \<<if $sex is "male">> My cock rubs against the moss as Cernunnos eases up on me. <</if>>\ I’m completely filled by their cock, covered by their frame, overwhelmed by the scent of dandelions. The thrusts become more demanding, forceful. “Scream, little rabbit,” they whisper in my ear, thrusting inside me. And I obey. [[Continue|sperm]]

I shake my head in terror. I do not want that thing inside me. It would never fit my ass and I’m not willing to give it a try. Cernunnos stops in their tracks, tilting their head at me, gauging at my reaction. Then, the massive cock disappears, making me sigh in relief. They take the loincloth off and the monster cock is indeed gone. I give them a grateful look, even if I’m slightly disappointed that nothing would come out of this. I just didn’t want to– Before I can continue the thought, something else appears in between their now hairless legs. A slit. Is that– Before I can ask, they close the distance between us in a flash, yank my pants off to reveal my hard, and quite confused, cock. I may not have gotten excited about the thought of their dick getting inside me but the thought of being mounted by the powerful deity still makes my member twitch in anticipation. Without a word, the whole of their massive frame sits on top of me, on top of my cock, sliding it inside them easily, swallowing it in between their muscular thighs. “Oh, shi–” But I can’t continue the attempted string of profanities, for their newly formed entrance starts sucking my cock with such power I’ve never felt before. I desperately try to move my hips but they won’t allow it. Their skull face looks at me, completely silent, as their thighs squeeze me to stay still. There’s something dark beneath the movements. The air around them is stirring with primal need. Possessiveness. They’re marking their territory. The realization makes me groan. The Twins won’t be– Just as the thought crosses my mind, Cernunnos drops on their hands, shaking the earth around me, the muzzle of their skull touching my nose. “You’re mine,” they say in a low growl as they squeeze their thighs even tighter, almost painfully. The danger in their voice makes me groan louder. I grab their horns to hold onto something as I feel the tremors of orgasm coming closer. They let me hold them, squeeze them, as tightly as I can as my cock starts to twitch, to pump my seed inside them. [[Continue|lie]]

As I lie there, still feeling the remnants of my orgasm, I watch them through my half lidded eyes. They stand up and tower over me. Just when I think they’d leave me here, my body is easily lifted up. I’m snuggly embraced by their long arms and carried somewhere close. They sit down with me still in their arms. Their goat legs are back, softening my stay in their lap. “You’re a shapeshifter?” I ask. They nod. They changed for me. They were about to mount me with a cock, so they definitely changed themselves to fit my preferences. Kind. But why have sex with me in the first place? Maybe it was for them. Maybe they wanted to mount me, make me smell like them, leave a mark on me. “Why were you so angry?” I ask. “You smelled wrong.” I raise my brows at the honest answer. “Wrong how?” No answer. They keep holding me on their lap without another word. I won’t get any answers from them regarding that. Perhaps my new godly smell is a message for the Twins? They merely look at me in silence, making me think my assumptions are correct. [[Oh no. The Twins won't be pleased.]] [[The thought makes me a little giddy.]]

I didn’t expect this to become a pissing contest between them. This is not good. I shift nervously in their lap, remembering my place as the Twins’ druid. Here I am, getting fucked by other gods like a divine harlot. Cernunnos’s huge hand starts to pet my hair. The touch is surprisingly gentle. “My gods won’t be pleased,” I admit as I try not to succumb to their touch and purr like a cat. No purring, I’ve made a fool of myself enough as it is. No answer leaves their otherworldly lips. They almost seem pleased by the prospect. “Don’t look so happy about it,” I say with a frown, almost forgetting that I’m talking with a god. An amused huff of air escapes the holes of their skull. “Your gods are selfish,” they say suddenly. “Selfish how?” “Greedy. They’re trying to make you theirs only.” And they don’t like it. Maybe it’s got something about principles. Silence lingers as I ponder on their words. [[“Could you turn yourself into an animal?” I ask.]]

A pleased hum leaves my lips. To be battled over two deities makes me shiver in excitement. Cernunnos keeps looking at me, inspecting me. “You are pleased?” “I suppose it makes me feel wanted,” I admit. An amused huff of air escapes the holes of their skull. “Your gods are selfish,” they say suddenly. “Selfish how?” “Greedy. They’re trying to make you theirs only.” And they don’t like it. Maybe it’s got something about principles. Silence lingers as I ponder on their words. [[“Could you turn yourself into an animal?” I ask.]]

A nod. “A bear?” I ask, innocently enough. Amusement lingers in the air as Cernunnos gives me another nod. My mind races with the possibilities. “Why?” they ask, their voice rumbling low like thunder roaring miles away. “Just wondering out loud,” I say with a shrug. “You want to be mounted by a bear?” “Gods, no. I didn’t even want you to mount me.” Why am I asking, then? I clear my throat. "I've always wanted to hug a bear." They’re soft and cuddly, who wouldn’t want to hug them? But instead of confirming the fact, Cernunnos’s chest starts shaking with laughter. “What?” I ask with a small frown. “Are you laughing at me?” They give me no answer. Instead, their skin starts to turn more hairy, their frame shorter and wider. Finally, I’m sitting in the lap of a massive bear. Cernunnos looks at me with intrigue brightening up their gaze. [[Clap my hands excitedly.]] [[Hug them.]] [["What about something small? Like a bee?"]]

“That’s amazing!” I cheer at the show. Then, filled with joy, I grab the bear into a hug, rubbing my cheek against the warm, soft fur. “Thank you,” I whisper against the fur. Thank you for indulging my foolish wishes. A content hum leaves their snout as they lean their hairy face against the crown of my hair. To be embraced by their warm, furry arms feels even more intimate than whatever happened before. I’m safe in their arms, cocooned by fur and muscle, protected by the world. We stay like that for a good while. Finally, without changing back to their original form, Cernunnos raises their bear eyes to look at me. “You should leave.” Disappointment runs through me. The words are curt but not rude, just stating how things will have to change. A part of me wishes I could stay in their arms forever. However, soon enough I find myself back in front of the holy oak, back in my own world. The cruel winter wind whips my skin once more, lashing out any memories of the warmth that just surrounded me completely.

Without another word, I grab their large, furry frame into a hug, rubbing my cheek against the warm, soft fur. “Thank you,” I whisper against the fur. Thank you for indulging my foolish wishes. A content hum leaves their snout as they lean their hairy face against the crown of my hair. To be embraced by their warm, furry arms feels even more intimate than whatever happened before. I’m safe in their arms, cocooned by fur and muscle, protected by the world. We stay like that for a good while. Finally, without changing back to their original form, Cernunnos raises their bear eyes to look at me. “You should leave.” Disappointment runs through me. The words are curt but not rude, just stating how things will have to change. A part of me wishes I could stay in their arms forever. However, soon enough I find myself back in front of the holy oak, back in my own world. The cruel winter wind whips my skin once more, lashing out any memories of the warmth that just surrounded me completely.

“Bee?” Discontentment turns the air around us heavier. They’re not keen to put up a show of transformation for my sake. I quickly give the irritated bear a hug. “Sorry, I appreciate this.” The bear rumbles in annoyance but my hug manages to soothe their mind eventually. Finally, a content hum leaves their snout as they lean their hairy face against the crown of my hair. To be embraced by their warm, furry arms feels even more intimate than whatever happened before. I’m safe in their arms, cocooned by fur and muscle, protected by the world. We stay like that for a good while. Finally, without changing back to their original form, Cernunnos raises their bear eyes to look at me. “You should leave.” Disappointment runs through me. The words are curt but not rude, just stating how things will have to change. A part of me wishes I could stay in their arms forever. However, soon enough I find myself back in front of the holy oak, back in my own world. The cruel winter wind whips my skin once more, lashing out any memories of the warmth that just surrounded me completely.

Dazed and completely filled with godly sperm, I look at the deity that was manhandling me with half-lidded eyes. But they’re not done yet. They take me into their lap, placing me snuggly in their embrace with their massive cock still inside me. “I–” But I’m not allowed to finish my sentence. With a grunt, they start moving their hips again, this time pumping inside me without mercy. I moan, the feeling of being stuffed by them is still overwhelming, especially after my flesh is tenderned by the orgasm. The pumping intensifies overwhelmingly. The air is filled with grunts and moans, and I come again. [[Continue|spent]]

Finally, when I’m left spent and tired in their lap, squeezing their coarse skin with my last strength, the air around us seems lighter. They seem pleased with the result. I look at the cock shrinking to itself, finally disappearing altogether. “Did you grow it for me?” They remain silent. Maybe it was for them. Maybe they wanted to mount me, make me smell like them, leave a mark on me. Perhaps as a message for the Twins? “Why were you so angry?” I ask. “You smelled wrong.” I raise my brows at the honest answer. “Wrong how?” No answer. They keep holding me on their lap without another word. I won’t get any answers from them regarding that. Perhaps my new godly smell is a message for the Twins? They merely look at me in silence, making me think my assumptions are correct. [[Oh no. The Twins won't be pleased.|not pleased twins]] [[The thought makes me a little giddy.|giddy]]

I didn’t expect this to become a pissing contest between them. This is not good. I shift nervously in their lap, remembering my place as the Twins’ druid. Here I am, getting fucked by other gods like a divine harlot. Cernunnos’s huge hand starts to pet my hair. The touch is surprisingly gentle. “My gods won’t be pleased,” I admit as I try not to succumb to their touch and purr like a cat. No purring, I’ve made a fool of myself enough as it is. No answer leaves their otherworldly lips. They almost seem pleased by the prospect. “Don’t look so happy about it,” I say with a frown, almost forgetting that I’m talking with a god. But, instead of taking my words as an insult, their body starts to jiggle. They’re laughing without a sound. “Are you laughing at me?” No confirmation leaves their hidden lips, but the shaking of their body still continues. “Your gods are selfish,” they say suddenly. “Selfish how?” “Greedy. They’re trying to make you theirs only.” And they don’t like it. Maybe it’s got something about principles. Silence lingers as I ponder on their words. [[“Could you turn yourself into an animal?” I ask.|animal?]]

Amusement lingers in the air as Cernunnos gives me another nod. My mind races with the possibilities. “Why?” they ask, their voice rumbling low like thunder roaring miles away. “Just wondering out loud,” I say with a shrug. “You want to be mounted by a bear?” [["Of course not. I want to hug a bear."]] [["Maybe..."]]

They’re soft and cuddly, who wouldn’t want to hug them? But instead of confirming the fact, Cernunnos’s chest starts shaking with laughter. “What?” I ask with a small frown. “Are you laughing at me?” They give me no answer. Instead, their skin starts to turn more hairy, their frame shorter and wider. Finally, I’m sitting in the lap of a massive bear. Cernunnos looks at me with intrigue brightening up their gaze. [[Clap my hands excitedly.]] [[Hug them.]] [["What about something small? Like a bee?"]]

Cernunnos looks at me and says nothing more. Something about their bright green eyes almost makes me think they’re judging me silently. Do they take me for a pervert? After what they just did to me? I clear my throat. “Just a thought.” But silence lingers. “Don’t judge me.” But they already seem to do so. “I didn’t come here to be shamed, I will–” “I prefer to mount you people in the shape of a human,” they say. “Why?” Even if I don’t think I really need to ask. It’s the natural order of things, something they seem to hold in high regard. Disappointing but understandable, I suppose. Besides, there’s something else in their words that intrigues me. “Do you mount people often?” “Does your god mount you?” they ask in return. My eyes widen at the question. “They barely speak to me.” They tilt their head as a question. “So, no,” I clarify. I suppose you don’t have to talk to be mounted. I fall silent. “Why am I here?” I ask. My own gods act from a distance, yet here Cernunnos is, snuggling me after marking me as theirs. They mull silently on my question, at least that’s how it feels like. But in the end, they provide no answer for my curious mind. Instead, I snuggle against their coarse frame, wrapped in their long arms. A part of me wishes I could stay in their arms forever. However, soon enough I find myself back in front of the holy oak, back in my own world. The cruel winter wind whips my skin once more, lashing out any memories of the warmth that just surrounded me completely.

Niall gives me a look that is impossible to decipher. Or maybe I could’ve deciphered it if my thoughts didn’t feel like an unconscious frog in a frozen pond. I’ve grown almost fond of the taste of the vile drink but it’s proven treacherous. It’s muddled my mind more thoroughly than wine ever could have. Things capture my gaze, things that I shouldn’t look at. The sight of Marcus’s Adam’s apple moving as he takes another gulp of his drink when I ask him to kiss Niall. I’ve been focusing on their lips too much. Marcus’s lips are thin, all too easily breaking into a smug smirk. Niall’s, however, are soft, pillowy. Both kissable in their own way. It takes a moment to realize that Niall is looking at me, too. I blink as I see the heat in his gaze. Yearning. He looks at my lips. But, disappointingly enough, he looks away. Still he refuses to kiss me. Pettiness takes over me. If you won’t kiss me, I’ll show you. Instead of Niall, I lock my eyes with Marcus. He expected it. He must’ve seen me looking at Niall. There’s a small mocking smile on his lips. “Kiss me, instead,” he says. It must be a bait, a way for him to try and embarrass me. [[I'll show them. Both of them.]]

Is Quinn a man or a woman? [[A man.|whoquinn][$quinn_sex to "male"]] [[A woman.|whoquinn][$quinn_sex to "female"]]

\<<set $marcus_killer to true>> I flinch when his hand finds mine. But I don’t pull my hand away. He looks at me with a small, wavering smile on his thin lips. “Want me to do cartwheels to take your mind off things?” he asks. I bark out a laugh. [["If only it was that easy."]] [["Cartwheels? At your age?"]]

I flinch when his hand finds mine. But I don’t pull my hand away. He looks at me with a small, wavering smile on his thin lips. “Want me to do cartwheels to take your mind off things?” he asks. I bark out a laugh. [["If only it was that easy."]] [["Cartwheels? At your age?"]]

“That bad, huh?” he asks and despite trying to keep his tone light and careless, there’s a sense of uneasiness within. It’s always there when he knows that I’m thinking about what happened. “I don’t think it will change,” I say. “I think it will always–” “How utterly pessimistic of you,” he says with a forced grin. “Let me kiss you.” “What?” Without another word, he closes the small distance between us and gently places his lips against mine. Warmth spreads through my body and I let him kiss me. He explores my lips carefully, touches my shoulders with such gentleness one would think I’m glassware. He’s always so tender, as if he’s afraid that he’ll hurt me again. [[It can get annoying.]] [[I appreciate it.]]

The banter between us makes it easier to forget. He scoffs, mockingly wounded. “My body is in peak condition.” He sizes me up with his mischievous eyes. “Whatever you say,” I say, keeping my tone deliciously doubtful. “I can show you.” His murmur is filled with innuendo. His dark gaze is heavy with desire. “That might take my mind off–” Before I can continue my thought, he closes the small distance between us and gently places his lips against mine. Warmth spreads through my body and I let him kiss me. He explores my lips carefully, touches my shoulders with such gentleness one would think I’m glassware. He’s always so tender, as if he’s afraid that he’ll hurt me again. [[It can get annoying.]] [[I appreciate it.]]

I’m not fragile. Still he refuses to treat me like a person who won’t break from a mere touch. I grab his jaw and push my lips harder against his, poke his lips with my tongue, urging him to let me in. He grunts in surprise and quickly leans into the kiss with a newfound vigor, matching my energy, encouraged by my hostility. His hands wander on my body, eagerly exploring me. His stubble scrapes my skin as he dives in for my throat, kissing it, nibbling it. I grab his hair and pull it, enjoying the way it makes him groan against my neck. As a revenge, he pushes me down on the floor, pushing himself against me, making sure that I feel his growing erection against my leg. [[Then, he stops.]]

I smile against his lips, appreciating the way his coarse fingers slowly trace the outline of my face. I take my time to breathe in his scent of citrus and leather, of his freshly washed clothes. I let my mind be filled with him, let my body relax by his touch while my hands explore his. His muscles are strained against my touch, hard and tense as a bow string. I sigh deeply in his mouth, the voice bordering on a moan, and he tenses at the sound of it. He’s exercising self-control, I can feel it in the way his fingers almost border on grabbing me too tightly. Good. He needs to be patient. He pushes me down on the floor, making sure he doesn’t hurt me. Enjoying his weight on top of me, I grab his hair and kiss his cheek, closing my eyes, pushing myself against his erection. [[Then, he stops.]]

I turn to look at him, to ask him what’s wrong, but the look on his face makes me bite my tongue. His face is completely frozen. Life leaves his eyes like a dying torch. “Marcus?” I ask. This doesn't seem like another one of his jokes. “Stop playing around.” No answer. Instead, he groans and rolls off me. The voice sounds like he’s in pain. Panic tries to push through me but I know this look. I’ve seen this before. There’s a figure in the corner of the room that wasn’t there before, someone looking at me with burning hostility. “Quinn.” [["What are you doing here?"]] [["What did you do to him?"]] [["Hi, Quinn. You scared me."]]

“Just checking that you’re alright.” The voice is light and careless but underneath there is something much darker, something $q_he can’t hide from my ears. “You could’ve peeked through the window. You didn’t have to…” I look at Marcus, biting my lip. I’m not sure what kind of damage his brains take from Quinn’s episodes. “That would’ve made me feel like a pervert. You were about to have intercourse.” “Quinn, gods. What’s wrong with you?” $q_He ignores the question, peering into my eyes with such intensity I almost look away. “When I said that you should try to get closer to him, I didn’t mean… this.” $q_He gestures at the brazier, as if the very thing personally offends $q_him. “However, if you plan on offering his soul to the Twins in a sex ritual that ends with his guts on the floor, I would understand this better. Softening the meat up, right? I can get behind that.” $q_His tone is hopeful and bright despite the dark words. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> [[“Something like that, yes.”]] \<<else>> [[“What are you talking about?”]] <</if>>\

“Him him him.” $q_He groans in annoyance. “Do you think about anything else but him?” “What did you do to him?” I ask again, this time more forcefully. “I just made him take a nap, it’s not serious.” “How could you know? You don’t know what that does to him. You had no right to–” “Don’t be like that,” $q_he says. “He will be fine. I just wanted to talk to you without him.” “You could’ve waited when he’s gone, you could’ve–” But $q_he isn’t listening. “When I said that you should try to get closer to him, I didn’t mean… this.” $q_He gestures at the brazier, as if the very thing personally offends $q_him. “However, if you plan on offering his soul to the Twins in a sex ritual that ends with his guts on the floor, I would understand this better. Softening the meat up, right? I can get behind that.” $q_His tone is hopeful and bright despite the dark words. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> [[“Something like that, yes.”]] \<<else>> [[“What are you talking about?”]] <</if>>\

My tone is more at ease than I expected. I got spooked, sure, but seeing $q_him puts my mind more at ease. It explains what happened, at least. “Sorry about that,” $q_he says. $q_He doesn’t sound too sorry, $q_his gaze is fixated on Marcus. “When I said that you should try to get closer to him, I didn’t mean… this.” $q_He gestures at the brazier, as if the very thing personally offends $q_him. “However, if you plan on offering his soul to the Twins in a sex ritual that ends with his guts on the floor, I would understand this better. Softening the meat up, right? I can get behind that.” $q_His tone is hopeful and bright despite the dark words. \<<if $marcus_killer is true>> [[“Something like that, yes.”]] \<<else>> [[“What are you talking about?”]] <</if>>\

I’ve had my mind on something like that for a while now. Marcus is already so comfortable with me. I just need to find out when and where. Quinn sighs in clear relief. “Oh, thank the Twins you’re still the same maniac I fell in love with.” “Maniac? I’m just fulfilling my duty,” I say with a playful pout. [[Is there a twinge of uncertainty tugging at my resolve?]] [[I smile at Quinn. We always understand each other.]]

“Oh.” $q_He sighs in disappointment. “It’s not your plan.” “No!” “Then, what is this?” $q_He points at the half-dead man on the ground. “Why are you playing with your food?” “He’s not my food, he’s–” “What is he to you, $name?” $q_He tilts $q_his head. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for him?” [["It's none of your business."]] [["What if I have?"]]

\<<set $doubt to true>> No. There’s no such thing. He deserves to die for what he’s done, that’s always been the case. I will never heal from the things he did before he lies bleeding on the ground. I’m certain of it. [[Continue|quinncontinue]]

I’m always happy to see $q_him. $q_He might be a little unstable after what happened but can I claim to be any more stable? Here I am, luring a man into his death with sweet words and whispers, making him open his heart for me only to rip it out of his chest. He deserves it and more. [[Continue|quinncontinue]]

“None of my business,” $q_he repeats the words, as if trying to make sense of their meaning. After a moment of silence that seems to take on for far too long, $q_he starts laughing. The tone is manic and high-pitched. “The fact that you’re falling in love with the man who killed our people is not my business.” Another bark of a laugh leaves $q_him. “You’re killing me.” “It’s none of your business who I fuck.” $q_He tilts $q_his head. “How crass of you. Fine. You can fuck a bear for all I care.” [["You don't mean that."]] [["You can choke on a bag of dicks for all I care."]]

$q_He looks at me. Then, a smile appears on $q_his lips. “I know you have. I’m just teasing you.” The smile turns into a grin with too many teeth bared. I look at Marcus who now lies on the ground like a lifeless puppet. “This feels more than teasing.” “Don’t worry about him. I wouldn’t kill him without your permission. He’s your victim, not mine.” “I–” “We’re friends here. I just wanted to hear where we stand.” “Can you wake him up now?” “Just one more question,” $q_he says and leans closer, $q_his breath licking my skin. $q_His eyes are sharp, like a hawk preying on a rabbit. “Do you love me?” [['"No."'|quinn_no]] [["You're not making it easy for me."]]

$q_He tilts $q_his head and a moment of silence ensues. Finally, $q_he chuckles. “I’ll take that as a yes.” $q_His cold fingers curl around mine, guiding my hand gently to $q_his chest. “My heart beats for you. Only for you.” $q_He looks at me with sincere eyes. Just like when $q_he used to look at me when things were different. I let $q_him have my hand. Just for the moment. “My heart beats for him. And reluctantly for you.” “I can accept that. That’s how much I love you.” $q_He smiles the same way he used to, $q_he squeezes my hand tightly. There’s nothing malicious in his smile, which looks almost grotesque when compared to the lifeless Marcus in the background. “Quinn… Let him go now.” “I will. After a kiss?” “You’re pushing it.” $q_He laughs brightly. “I had to ask.” $q_He gets up and skips to the door. $q_He gives me one last smile. “Take care.” The door opens and closes and $q_he's gone. I’m left looking at the closed door with my mind racing. “What the fuck happened?” Marcus asks with a groan. I hurry to his side, cradling his head on my lap. “Don’t stand up yet.” He squints his eyes at me. Hostility taints his words as he says, “That freak was here. Did $q_he hurt you? Did $q_he–” No. I need to deny it. They would kill each other. “No.” I quickly shake my head. “$q_He wasn’t here. You just felt ill and fell down.” He frowns at my words. “I could swear, I… I saw $q_him. I heard $q_him.” “A bad dream?” I offer, caressing his hair to soothe his nerves. “I…” Marcus gives me one last insecure glance. Finally, he sighs and his shoulders relax, surrendering himself to my lap. He closes his eyes, still tired over the mental overload. Dried blood under his nose reminds me of his mortality. The thought pushes anxiety down my chest.

$q_He doesn’t seem taken aback by my words. Instead, $q_he backs down with a chuckle. “Whatever you say.” “Wake Marcus up,” I demand $q_him. Blood starts falling from Marcus’s nostril. Panic grips my throat. “Don’t kill him,” I plead. I never thought that I’d say those words. “He’s not going to die,” Quinn says in a disinterested voice. Finally, $q_he groans. “Fine. Because we’re friends and I don’t want to worry you too much.” Too late for that but this isn’t the time to argue with $q_him. I just want Marcus to wake up. When I look back from Marcus to Quinn, $q_he’s not there anymore. The door creaked in agony when $q_he left. I sigh in relief and feel guilty for doing so. The door opens and closes and $q_he's gone. I’m left looking at the closed door with my mind racing. “What the fuck happened?” Marcus asks with a groan. I hurry to his side, cradling his head on my lap. “Don’t stand up yet.” He squints his eyes at me. Hostility taints his words as he says, “That freak was here. Did $q_he hurt you? Did $q_he–” No. I need to deny it. Quinn could kill him. If he knew it was Quinn, he would do something stupid and Quinn would end up killing him. “No.” I quickly shake my head. “$q_He wasn’t here. You just felt ill and fell down.” He frowns at my words. “I could swear, I… I saw $q_him. I heard $q_him.” “A bad dream?” I offer, caressing his hair to soothe his nerves. “I…” Marcus gives me one last insecure glance. Finally, he sighs and his shoulders relax, surrendering himself to my lap. He closes his eyes, still tired over the mental overload. Dried blood under his nose reminds me of his mortality. The thought pushes anxiety down my chest.

Despite everything, I try to placate the situation. I need $q_him to cooperate. $q_He takes a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” For what it’s worth, $q_he sounds genuine. It’s just difficult to accept any apologies when there’s the lifeless body of Marcus looming in the background. “And I understand you don’t believe me,” $q_he says, gesturing at Marcus. “I just… overthink things. I know I asked you to do this.” $q_He attempts to smile but it comes out wrong. “A truce?” $q_he asks, $q_his tone hopeful. I give $q_him a small nod, partly because I need $q_him to wake up Marcus again. Something tells me he wouldn’t wake up without Quinn. A flash of pain crosses Quinn’s face, making $q_him grimace for a brief moment. Blood starts falling from Marcus’s nostril. Panic grips my throat. “Don’t kill him,” I plead. I never thought that I’d say those words. “I know you’re worried about him,” $q_he says with a weak smile. “I know you care about him.” Bitterness bleeds through $q_his words. “And I care about you.” The last words are so silent I barely hear them. The door opens and closes and $q_he's gone. “What the fuck happened?” Marcus asks with a groan. I hurry to his side, cradling his head on my lap. “Don’t stand up yet.” He squints his eyes at me. Hostility taints his words as he says, “That freak was here. Did $q_he hurt you? Did $q_he–” No. I need to deny it. Quinn could kill him. If he knew it was Quinn, he would do something stupid and Quinn would end up killing him. “No.” I quickly shake my head. “$q_He wasn’t here. You just felt ill and fell down.” He frowns at my words. “I could swear, I… I saw $q_him. I heard $q_him.” “A bad dream?” I offer, caressing his hair to soothe his nerves. “I…” Marcus gives me one last insecure glance. Finally, he sighs and his shoulders relax, surrendering himself to my lap. He closes his eyes, still tired over the mental overload. Dried blood under his nose reminds me of his mortality. The thought pushes anxiety down my chest.

Instead of getting angrier, $q_he giggles at the comment. “A bag seems a bit excessive. And they would be cut off the source, right? Sounds bloody.” “Wake Marcus up or there will be consequences,” I say through bared teeth. $q_He bites $q_his lip. “You’re threatening me? It suits you. Fierce.” My mind races with possibilities. I can’t fight $q_him, who knows what $q_he’s capable of. Well, I will never know if I don’t try. I need to– “Relax,” $q_he says, holding $q_his hands in surrender. “We’re friends.” “Friends don’t do shit like this.” “I know, I’m sorry. I just wanted to know where we stand. And now I know. A truce?” $q_he asks, $q_his tone partly hopeful, partly playful. As if all of this is just a game for $q_him. I give $q_him a small, angry nod, partly because I need $q_him to wake up Marcus again. Something tells me he wouldn’t wake up without Quinn. Blood starts falling from Marcus’s nostril. Panic grips my throat. “If you kill him, I swear to the Twins I will make you regret it.” $q_He lets out a laugh but it sounds wearier than usual. “I know you’re worried about him,” $q_he says with a weak smile. “I know you care about him.” Bitterness bleeds through $q_his words. “And I care about you.” The last words are so silent I barely hear them. The door opens and closes and $q_he's gone. I’m left looking at the closed door with my mind racing. “What the fuck happened?” Marcus asks with a groan. I hurry to his side, cradling his head on my lap. “Don’t stand up yet.” He squints his eyes at me. Hostility taints his words as he says, “That freak was here. Did $q_he hurt you? Did $q_he–” No. I need to deny it. Quinn could kill him. If he knew it was Quinn, he would do something stupid and Quinn would end up killing him. “No.” I quickly shake my head. “$q_He wasn’t here. You just felt ill and fell down.” He frowns at my words. “I could swear, I… I saw $q_him. I heard $q_him.” “A bad dream?” I offer, caressing his hair to soothe his nerves. “I…” Marcus gives me one last insecure glance. Finally, he sighs and his shoulders relax, surrendering himself to my lap. He closes his eyes, still tired over the mental overload. Dried blood under his nose reminds me of his mortality. The thought pushes anxiety down my chest.

\<<if $quinn_sex is "male">> <<set $q_he to "he"; $q_him to "him"; $q_his to "his"; $q_himself to "himself"; $q_He to "He"; $q_Him to "Him"; $q_His to "His">> <</if>>\ \<<if $quinn_sex is "female">> <<set $q_he to "she"; $q_him to "her"; $q_his to "her"; $q_himself to "herself"; $q_He to "She"; $q_Him to "Her"; $q_His to "Her">> <</if>>\ I look at Marcus’s face, illuminated by the brazier. His small apartment feels suffocatingly intimate as the wolf pelt softens our stay on the floor. Shadows and light dance on his jaw, on his small stubble. The subtle perfume he wears doesn’t invite feelings of fear anymore. It’s peculiar to think that out of all people, he seems to understand me the most. There’s a sense of acceptance with him. He knows what I’ve been through. Mostly because he caused it. A bitter smile creeps onto my lips. [[What am I doing here? Alone with him?]] [[Still I want to kill him for what he did.]]

Quinn makes $q_his way to me on all fours, grinning from ear to ear. “I love you,” $q_he says, adoration gleaming from $q_his eyes like little fireflies. “I love everything about you.” I let out a small laugh. “I love you, too. But are you going to kill him?” “Huh?” $q_He tilts $q_his head. Then, $q_he turns to the lifeless man on the ground. “Oh, right! No. No no. He’s your victim. You have the closest connection with him.” $q_He leans in, running $q_his tongue across my neck, sending shivers down my spine. $q_His murmur fills the whole of my mind, “You need to kill him. It needs to be you.” “Uh-huh,” I say. My throat is tight and the sound comes out hoarse. A smile rings through Quinn’s words. “You are everything to me.” $q_His mouth travels to my ear, nibbling at it, as $q_his hand rubs my inner thighs. I breathe out heavily. I glance at Marcus, perhaps to gloat at him, to make sure he could see what I’m doing in front of him, but something makes me frown. There’s a stream of blood running from his nose. “Quinn, ah–” \<<if $sex is "male">> I gasp when $q_he squeezes my erection through my trousers a little too roughly. “What?” $q_He accentuates the question with another squeeze. $q_His hand dives inside my pants, quickly curling $q_his fingers around my hard cock. $q_He starts slowly caressing my cock, pushing down on it as $q_his teeth scrape the skin of my neck. The feeling of my cock being stroked at a time like this makes heat rush to my cheeks. \<<else>> I gasp when $q_his swift hand dives inside my pants and finds my clit. $q_He's too eager, $q_he rubs it a little too roughly. “What?” $q_He accentuates the question by caressing my folds, preparing me for $q_his finger. “Marcus looks like he’s really dying.” $q_He pushes $q_his finger inside me as $q_his teeth scrape the skin of my neck. The feeling of being penetrated at a time like this makes heat rush to my cheeks. <</if>> It makes it hard to think. [["Quinn," I say again through my stifled moan.]]

$q_He reluctantly looks at the body behind him and groans. “He’s fighting the forced nap. He's dying.” $q_He leans back to my neck like nothing of interest is happening. $q_He nibbles at my tender skin just above my pulse. It's as if $q_he's preparing for a bite. “Quinn,” I say, pushing $q_him away from my neck. $q_His hand is still inside my pants. Quinn smiles. “Fine. We can continue this later.” \<<if $sex is "male">> $q_He bites $q_his smirked lips at the thought with $q_his fingers still curled around my erection. $q_He pushes down once more, drinking in my reaction. It almost makes me want to beg $q_him to continue. \<<else>> $q_He bites $q_his smirked lips at the thought with $q_his fingers still inside me. $q_He penetrates me with another finger, drinking in my reaction. It almost makes me want to beg $q_him to continue. <</if>> “Quinn,” I say again, pleading hoarsely. "Stop it." “Fine.” $q_He sighs and frees me from $q_his grasp. “That stupid ass is always ruining everything.” “He wasn’t supposed to die yet.” Not like this, not with his brain deteriorating as he's looking at us with unseeing eyes. \<<if $doubt is true>> Why does the thought of him dying like this make me unsettled? Why… No. It’s not a crime to feel sympathy towards your enemy. Quinn tilts $q_his head at me. I try to quiet my inner voices to make sure $q_he doesn’t hear them. <<else>> Well, maybe it would be fitting. But it’s not the right time. <</if>> "I know." $q_He gets up and walks to the door. $q_He gives me one last smile. “Goodbye, love.” [[Continue|marcuswakeup]]

“What the fuck happened?” Marcus asks with a groan. I hurry to his side, cradling his head on my lap. “Don’t stand up yet.” He squints his eyes at me. Hostility taints his words as he says, “That freak was here. Did $q_he hurt you? Did $q_he–” “No.” I quickly shake my head. “$q_He wasn’t here. You just felt ill and fell down.” He frowns at my words. “I could swear, I… I saw $q_him. I heard $q_him.” “A bad dream?” I offer, caressing his hair to soothe his nerves. “I…” Marcus gives me one last insecure glance. Finally, he sighs and his shoulders relax, surrendering himself to my lap. He closes his eyes, still tired over the mental overload. Dried blood under his nose reminds me of his mortality. He doesn’t suspect me. He either trusts me or he’s too tired to care. The thought makes me smile with all my teeth bared.