Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions-Chapter 358: • Mudshark [18+]
– It is not my place to speak concerning the decision of the [Empyrean] to let go of the Hero of Rebellion, Slayer of the Umber dragon, and then decree again her armies to seek him out unto the ruins of Glarkis even. . .but I this can speak of: that this is no matter of war, but of the heart and deep longing into the Abyss. Let us hence hope that Flame Lord Bludthirste, wherever he is, is not too distracted by VOLUPTUOUS VICE to forget his Empyrean. . .that is before she bathes the Continent in emeraldfire – (Excerpt of the speech of Immortal Damnameneus, High Magus of Titans Landing, at the XIV Republican Assembly at Rocasus.)
[#adult-themes #maturewoman #blonde #fingering #hairy #faceslap #domination #nasty]
• PORT GLARKIS, EASTERN SEA WALL
"You think da bitch is g'wan stay put, Lord host?" Inaia asked Eotigan as she rinsed the blood off her hands in an iron bowl a half-naked slave girl held up to her. The water was turned deep red in the slender girl's shaking hands—a testament to how many pirates Inaia had killed to bloody her hands so. She shook out her hands, waving the petite slave girl away as another came in with a towel. This one had only a loose hanging garment on her waist. Inaia and her [Host] both looked this new girl over with a fond eye, even as Eotigan gave her reply in his coal voice:
"I think the bitch is gonna stay wherever we put her."
Inaia dried off her hands fully but held on to the small piece of cloth, and rather, she gently put the cold material to the young slave's tan skin. The girl stared straight ahead. But she was nude to her hips, and so Inaia could see her ripening breasts—that were just beginning to show—gain a pink luster. The very red nipples of her young body harden and betray her stoicism.
Eotigan's hard black boots drummed the wood as he began circling Inaia and the pretty young thing.
He continued talking where he'd left off, breathing his dangerous words down the nape of the slave girl—whom at this point didn't really give a fuck about the towel or servitude no more. In his regal obsidian coat, Eotigan was a mighty man behind this girl; she was half of him, and his every whisper and rumble made her skin tighten with two things: fear, and attraction. Eotigan was saying, "—she'd better stay. I mean what else is the bitch gonna do! Scream?"
A dark laugh bubbled out his broad chest. "I pray she does."
Inaia shifted her brown eyes on the girl to him, smiling sinfully; those eyes licked down to his belt. It had been quite some time since she'd seen her [Host] go off on a screaming bitch. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺
"...her Captain is in chains. Her crew litter the ocean floor. Her ship is docked right outside this port town. The Ice Spears are done for," Eotigan cornered the slave girl in with his heady smell of fresh sea and blood as he finished, chuckling out the words like beating rain, "now I do not mean to be a devil, but that bitch is my BITCH now.
—and I am going to enjoying breaking the stubbornness out of that fucking white witch!"
Pah!
Inaia slapped the cold towel on the slave girl's open chest, hitting her bare nipples, catching her young body unawares. The girl jumped and made a sweet, low moan. The damp cloth made her shiver, exciting her perky tits to stand attention. She desired Inaia—whose name she didn't know, to keep rubbing her down; and the ruthless giant Officer, Eotigan—whose name she also did not know—to perhaps bend her over that creaking pine desk in the corner and relieve himself, deeply and strongly inside of her. Many times.
They didn't.
"Say no more, m'lord." Inaia smiled to Eotigan, releasing the towel over the girl's yellow breasts.
Slop!
The cloth dropped wet to the wood-floors. This is when the cute slave girl caught on that a hot threesome wasn't happening.
"Off ya go, girlie." Inaia's sugar drawl focused her. The girl rapidly blinked, bent low to pick again the drying cloth, and with a final bow to the potent male presence behind, she dashed out of the open door into the sweltering island evening.
Eotigan scratched his chin at her exit. "Hmm? What was she expecting?"
Inaia shrugged.
The both of them had being clueless—the entire time to what their absent-minded sexiness was doing to the poor girl. That young thing had been ready for a good ol' frenzied rodgering. A long, satisfying fuck. But that didn't happen, because while she was in there, wishing of finally taking a big seaman in her twenty-year old pussy, that man was just making small talk with his equally amazingly gorgeous partner. The slave girl did not know Inaia was actually Eotigan's own vassal, but she left there with a wondrous story: about how she almost got her knickers ripped away by the biggest, handsomest seaman in Port Glarkis.
Meanwhile, Eotigan had completely forgotten the topless honey that had. . .what did she do for him again?
Exactly.
Not his fault. He had to much on his mind: imprisoned family members and whatnot, to dwell on petite slaves.
—unless the bitch was Thyra.
Thyra. Thyra. Thyra!
It was she whom Inaia had referred to as bitch in her question earlier. It was three hours since the pirate gang known as the [Ice Spears] were defeated in the fierce sea encounter with, what one might call, a ship full of vacationers. 'Shit,' Eotigan mused, 'It was a humiliating end to the Ice Spears. No wonder that bitch—Thyra is mad.' He shook his head, admitting he really needed to stop calling her that. But it was hard. Thyra got on his nerves. How annoying how she made him mad and fucking hard at the same time?
She had such a mouth and manner about her. "Fucking crazy BI—"
He stopped himself mid-curse. 'Dang! That woman can annoy a motherfucker.'
Inaia heard his thoughts, still linked to his [psyche bridge]; she moved into him, pressing her hot, exquisite softness into his body, whispering, "yes, she does, Lord host... which is why she is shut the hell up in that damn attic. She can't say shit now, can she?" Inaia waited till he smiled, golden iris like fireflies, then she did too, asking as she pulled away, "food?"
PAH!
Eotigan's naughty arm shot out, his palm catching her full on the butt; he grinned, "you bet your sexy ass."
Ten minutes later, as Inaia happily watched him wolf down her hastily prepared fried potatoes and goat sauce, Eotigan thought to himself that Inaia was probably the best [Subservient] an S-rank devil like himself could get. She was a great thinker, a wonderful cook...and a phenomenal fuck. Exactly why she was going to help him deal with the issue upstairs, in the attic.
Thyra.
He pushed the dishes aside once he was done, rising, "let's break this bitch," he said to Inaia.
In the waning light of the evening, Inaia's enchanting look mirrored that of her [Host]: the smile of a changeling child. Chilling. Together, they left the vestibule of that abandoned storey-home, marching up the crooked, holed-in stairs for the attic. For their astoundingly sexy, and hothead captive. Eotigan already heard the faint thumping of her struggling from the lonely hallway. He was glad Inaia had picked this seafaring town for a stowaway.
Port Glarkis had been once powerful in the Nine Realms. It had been to Corynthia and her many islands what Röthmandu served this day. But in its time, it had no Governor.
A stateless Sodom.
And when the wrath of Baeleon the Bold, King and Conqueror hit the lawless whoresons that had builded their colonies of sin up here, all that remained—even now—was a ghost town of skinny girls that could've been princesses in another time and place, and raggedout dads too tired to fight.
Eotigan had taken with him the pirate captain, Percival van Tuane, a few choice men, and with few words, brought down the flag of the Ice Spears, commandeering their warship to this Port. He had given Kambili—with a french kiss—orders to lead the Great Cruiser, and the treasurable loot aboard to safe waters, where the complete haul of gold from the Weeping Well Cove could then be determined and shared. She was to return with his bounty—and her tomboy fair-skinned self in perfect condition.
Her exact orders.
With the defeated pirate van Tuane chained few miles from town in the storage of his own ship, Eotigan booked the storey-home with his steadfast first-mate, to enjoy privately the company of the curvaceous prisoner in his attic.
Eotigan was right at the tiny door with Inaia when he stopped her with a hand. "The [Mission I] says I have to make her beg for it, but..."
"...but she's got a mouth on her." Inaia completed for him.
"She doesn't seem like she's begged for anything in her life." The [etheria] in his eyes waned to the color of rust.
Inaia took his hand and said, "—which is why it'll be proper fuckin' fine if she does beg. To make her. To...break her. Lord host, I have seen you bed a Shield-maiden, and seduce a giantess. You, have gotten into a fey queen's pants. Your ex is a Half-angel. You gat this bitch! YOU!"
Eotigan listened quietly to Inaia list his sex-ploits, how she put him on top of the fucking world in women affairs—how Lilith had. His only response was, he took up her hand and kissed it. And he pushed the attic's little door open.
The first form his cinder eyes fell upon was Thyra, kicking at the goddamn floors like a banshee.
"Cool it, bitch. Only [Host] is permitted to hurt your body. You belong to him now." Inaia rushed to the corner where Thyra was tied down and tried to get the simmering blonde to sit quiet. It was the miracle of the rope gag in her mouth that kept the woman from waking the whole damn town up with her screaming. Noises of pure insolence that threatened Eotigan's patience even where he stood. This bitch hadn't been beat in her life. "—BITCH!" Inaia yelped as Thyra tried and failed to topple her to the musty floors—despite being bound hands and feet.
"You will sit still!" Inaia raised a high hand to deliver a prompt slap.
"Subserviená!" Eotigan forbade her from smacking his prize.
He came closer and dropped in a prowl to eye level with Thyra. Her eyes looked frozen in a hurricane at the edge of the world. This was the only way he could describe the fury he did witness in those depths. Though she had already maddened him several times before he'd successfully launched her into this here attic, he calmed himself to reach for benevolence. Gently, he pulled down the rope gagging her mouth.
"Lady, I just want to t—"
SPLAT!
She spat right in Eotigan's face. It hit him right between the eyes, cutting him short; a glob of sticky, silvery saliva that Thyra had no doubt being saving for this very purpose—judging by the victorious look on her face.
Inaia pulled hard on her long, sunshine hair. "How dare you, YOU CRAZY WHITE-EYED WENCH!"
But Eotigan was already rising. And so was his hand.
PAAHHH!!!
Thyra—knowing her how goat-headed she was being—saw the slap coming, but she misjudged the hand. Eotigan went with his left, catching her sweet cheek with a lightning delivery that had her scrambling and gasping on the longwoods. Eotigan remembered to temper his supernatural might but the woman still nearly blacked out. 'Fuck benevolence.' He snarled.
Thyra was yet reeling from the shock of the slap when Inaia grabbed handfuls of her beautiful, hay-colored hair and dragged her up to a kneeling position—her feet were still bound.
Inaia proceeded to spit on her own hand and rub that same hand all over Thyra's red face.
The woman squirmed and cursed, struggling as Inaia got it all in her nose and eyes.
"You filthy bastards! Burn in Hel."
Inaia chuckled, rubbing more. "We already have, bitch!"
On her knees before him, Thyra looked out streaming, red cheeks with tears to see Eotigan poised like a beautiful mountain before her. He was so rugged it made her the more angry. She wondered how he was still so pretty even after she'd spat in his face. The strange thing was her moon eyes came up to his crotch—and she saw the massively straining cucumber shape. Instantly, she recalled when he'd fondled her briefly in the Captain's office. And fresh indignation consumed her. "YOU INCARNATE!" She drew back with all the might she could muster, and head-butted him, right in the nuts.
Eotigan was busy thinking to himself how 'Incarnate' was a new one when he felt the force of a human sledgehammer spear his balls.
YOOWWWLLLL!!!
And just like that. . .the fight was on.
[To be continued]
