Dragon Jade Chronicle: The Warlock And The Warrior

by Jamie MacFrey

  “The right nipple, Pol,” she said. “The right nipple is the best one.”

  “Like this?” said Pol, rolling the nipple between the pad of his thumb and the tip of his forefinger. He plucked at it and was rewarded when Atti pulled her legs up into a squat and began to bounce on top of him.

  He looked down at her as she drove him inside her, and saw that her pubic hair was cut short into the shape of three chevrons, each point facing down. He rubbed the thumb of his free hand across them.

  “Men got lost in the dark,” explained Atti.

  Pol smiled. He pulled at the nipple in his hand.

  “Oh, yes, that’s it,” she said. “Harder. Harder everywhere.”

  Pol pinched Atti’s nipple harder, and bucked his hips, shaking her. She stopped bouncing and leaned forward, her left breast falling into his face.

  “Bite me,” she said, and Pol gave the flesh in front of him a nibble.

  Atti gave a long groan as she began to cum.

  “Oh, Vash, Kiera.” Her pussy gripped him tighter in the throes of her orgasm.

  “Yes, fuck, Pol, that’s my name. I want you. I only want you.”

  “Kiera, I’m going to cum.”

  “Yes, fuck, yes,” said Atti. “Just don’t you dare fucking stop.” She reached a hand down between them and grasped his cock.

  Pol tried to contain himself, but it was a useless effort, with both Atti’s hand and cunt encouraging him on with their firm grips on his cock. He erupted deep into Atti’s pussy, sending rope after rope spurting inside her.

  “Cum for me, Pol,” said Atti.

  “Oh, Kiera!” he cried out.

  * * * * *

  Kiera thought she heard her name being called in the distance, but between the sound of Vel and Largan fucking each other and plowing her own pussy with two fingers, it was a little hard to tell.

  “I should share with our guest, hon,” said Vel.

  “Prisoner.”

  Vel laughed.

  “If you say so,” she said, squeezing her pussy around his cock and leaning towards Kiera.

  Largan groaned, and stumbled forward a little so that Vel landed on her knees on the bed, the tip of Largan’s cock still inside her. She straddled Kiera, one hand going to join Kiera’s at her pussy and another kneading a nipple. The taller woman tilted her head, and Vel kissed her, low and insistent. Kiera could feel Vel’s hips moving as Largan thrust into them.

  “Our prisoner,” said Vel, resting her head between Kiera’s chin and breast. “Now share with her.”

  Largan’s cock bumped up against the hand in her pussy, and Kiera dutifully removed it to let him in. She groaned as he filled her.

  “Doesn’t he feel so—oh!” cried Vel, as Largan quickly pulled out of Kiera and plunged back into Vel. She turned her head and bit Kiera’s shoulder as Largan gave a couple more thrusts, then withdrew to change pussies again.

  “...good?” finished Vel. She felt Kiera’s pussy flex as it stretched to accommodate all of her mate as he thrust over and over into her, and she brought both hands to play with Kiera’s breasts, eliciting a long moan. Vel licked at the nearest of Kiera’s two dark brown areolae.

  Largan’s strokes into Kiera were becoming more rushed and Kiera was pushing back to maximize her pleasure from him, her chin sometimes rapping against the top of Vel’s head. Vel looked up at Largan, who’d put his hands down on the bed by their waists to steady himself as he thrusted. He gave her a pained look.

  “Vel…” he rasped.

  Vel kissed Kiera again, shifting her backside so that the cheeks of her ass bumped into Largan’s chest.

  “Sorry, delicious,” she said to Kiera. “This one’s mine. Thanks for getting him home safe.”

  Largan pulled himself out of Kiera and gave Vel one powerful thrust, pushing her down into Kiera’s chest. Vel arched her back as he pushed as far as he could go and came inside her.

  “Oh, hells, I can’t believe we don’t do this more often, if that’s how you feel about it,” said Vel, feeling him pulsing out his cum inside her folds.

  Largan just groaned wordlessly, convulsing as Vel’s pussy drank him down. Kiera reached out a hand to stroke at Vel’s clit.

  “Oh, yes, that’s nice,” said Vel. She let out a contented sigh. “A little faster, please.”

  Kiera’s increased the speed of her strokes, and Vel began grinding her clit harder against Kiera’s hand.

  “I’ll do it,” said Largan. One hand grasped Vel around the neck, and he tilted her head back until he could smother her lips with his mouth, while his other hand went to work on her clit with rapid, powerful strokes. It wasn’t long before the little woman was writhing as she came, one hand trying to free Largan’s grip on her throat, the other attempting to pull his cock deeper inside her.

  When Largan released her, Vel dragged herself off his cock with a reluctant sigh.

  “All good things,” she whispered. She turned to the woman beneath her. “Now Kiera, my dear, what can I do for you?”

  “You’re offering to help us?”

  “I like you, girl. Enough that if my pack or any of the packs who call me friend can provide the help you need, we will,” said Vel. “Now, out with it, girl.”

  * * * * *

  Pol and Atti sat together naked by a campfire, picking apart the remains of a roasted chicken with their fingers. Pol’s fingers and face were a mess of grease, and Atti grinned at him, leaning over to lick some of it off his chin. He smiled.

  “We’ve been eating salted beef for two weeks now,” he said. “I mean, I’m not exactly used to three squares a day, but I’m wasting away out here.”

  “Yeah, to skin and one big bone,” laughed Atti.

  There was a creak of metal behind him and Pol turned his head. Kiera stood a little ways away, dressed in her dragon jade armor again.

  “Hello, Pol,” she said. She gave Atti a suspicious glance, and the tall Canian waved at her happily.

  “Where are your clothes?”

  “Um, back in the cabin they’re keeping me in.”

  “Keeping you in?”

  Pol looked at Atti and she laughed.

  “I escaped,” he explained.

  “And I see you got pretty far,” said Kiera, looking at the lack of distance between him and Atti. “Well, turn yourself back in and get your clothes, so we can go. I’ve got Blade and Brady saddled, and Vel tells me we’re not too far from Tia Vashil now. A day or two.”

  She spun around on her heel and trudged away, Pol gaping after her. He looked at Atti, who was chewing on a chicken bone.

  “I don’t guess I get it, Pol,” she said. “I’m a much better Kiera than that woman is.”

  Chapter 6

  In the throne room at the Tower of Joi, the massive fortress which had watched over the city of Tia Joi for nearly a millennium, there was room for just over five thousand knights to gather when summoned by their princess. And Princess Fione vai Joi loved to call them to muster, watching from her golden chair on the dais while the exquisite youth of the city filed into the room in front of her.

  But now the vast majority of the five thousand young knights who had ridden out nearly two days ago were lying on the battlefield, waiting for Vash to sing them to the Heavens, the rest scattered to the wind by the Dragon Clans, and this naked bitch sat on Fione’s throne whilst she stood submissively to attention on her left.

  The bitch’s hair was jet back and long, but it was pulled together and lifted by a single green ring, which Fione realized must be dragon jade, sitting on the crown of her head, so that it seemed like a massive horsetail that fell down to her waist. A circlet on her head was worked into the shape of a dragon devouring a crescent moon, the ancient symbol for Vash the Sky Dragon, and she dripped with any number of dragon jade bracelets, armlets and anklets.

  Her heavy breasts sat auspiciously on her bare chest, each one capped by a long dark nipple pierced with dragon jade. Fione could not help but compare the woman’s breasts to her
own. The Dragon Clan bitch’s were bigger, but not by much, and they lacked a great deal of the perk. Her skin was tanned and a little weathered as well, where Fione’s was porcelain white. Fione had also become a fan of trimming the platinum blonde hair between her legs back a bit, a stark comparison to the hairy pussy on the seat of the throne now, which appeared to have been cut only to allow better access to her clit, but otherwise left to grow.

  Three large men stood to the bitch’s right. The closest was the largest, his chiseled body dotted with scars, his hair long, his head unadorned with jewelry. A massive dragon jade cleaver hung at his waist, and even under the circumstances, Fione grew a little hot staring at his other weapon, the massive cock which swung below his waist. His name was Varomar, and Fione despised him.

  The other two were shorter (and smaller where it counted) and carried a sword and an axe respectively, but each wore a dragon jade circlet similar to the bitch’s, and held themselves with a slightly more regal bearing than their massive compatriot. The one with the circlet worked into a dragon coiled around a mountain had his head shaved. He seemed ill at-ease, and Fione recognized the same jitters of early rule that had marked her first years reigning over Tia Joi.

  With no knights left, the crowd was composed of the various nobles and dignitaries of the city. Most of Fione’s suitors had had the good graces to at least arm themselves and trudge off to war, but a few of the poets and artisans who had no chance of winning her hand, but had sometimes talked or painted their way into her bed had stayed behind and Fione felt a twinge at seeing them there. She had no intention of being immortalized in verse or on canvas in a position of weakness.

  “People of Tia Joi,” the bitch began talking. She unfolded her legs, which Fione noted with satisfaction were shorter and less shapely than her own, giving the entire court an excellent view of her cunt and the dragon jade piercing sitting just above her clit. “I am Olene, daughter of Korth the Grim, Chieftain of the Sky Dragon Clan, and your new master.”

  As if that needs to be said, thought Fione. Dragon Clan warriors stood all around the edge of the throne room, and more stood blocking the door. It wasn’t like there was much evidence supporting any other conclusion.

  “Your princess has surrendered your city to the Chiefs of the Dragon Clans, and out of gratitude and respect for her wisdom in doing so, we have spared her life.”

  Fione folded her arms beneath her breasts and her nostrils flared in anger. Varomar had been carrying the head of General Okkian vai Farrow when he’d appeared on horseback at the gates in the early morning, announcing the defeat of Fione’s army and promising to behead the entire populace should she choose to defend the city against Olene’s army. Seventy thousand Dragon Clan warriors, plus at least twice that many in their thralls and camp-followers, against the old men, old women, and children left behind when the army had gone marching out to meet them. And no word from either the Exarch of Tia Vashil or his masters in the Guild of Sorcerers had been forthcoming. She’d ceded the city to Varomar, and wept when he threw the grey-bearded head of old General Okkian at her feet. The House vai Farrow had served House vai Joi for nearly one hundred years as Marshals of the Metropolis, and Fione felt his loss deeply.

  “Your princess has also decided to swear her allegiance to the Clans, a decision we have graciously accepted…”

  Fione’s frown deepened. Olene had made clear her intentions to hold Tia Joi for the Dragon Clans as the capital of their new empire, and that the Clans would be perfectly willing to cleanse the city of its current inhabitants, should she not receive Fione's unconditional obedience. It was had been less negotiation than dictation, and for a woman who’d hardly had to negotiate prices of grain with merchants, Fione had not accepted the process well. But at least they had sworn on their dragon jade not to harm her subjects.

  “...provided she demonstrate her new found friendship and loyalty here in open court,” finished Olene.

  “I agreed to demonstrate my ‘friendship and loyalty,’ as you put it, but not here in open court,” said Fione.

  “You agreed to be my thrall,” said Olene, her voice carrying across the hall. “I expect you to show the obedience a thrall might for their master - by making yourself available for our pleasure, whenever and wherever it is demanded of you.”

  “Is that how these dogs respond to your call?” asked Fione, gesturing towards the three men to Olene’s right.

  Olene’s lips curled. “Of course not. Varomar is my brother, and Alok and Rooth are fellow chiefs. They are allies, not thralls like you.”

  “Hard to tell one of your allies from one of your thralls.”

  Olene glared at the princess. The bitch was clearly put out by being defied in open court, and Fione tried to think of a way to exploit it, given her current predicament.

  “You will be used for my pleasure and that of my allies here,” said Olene. “Or my warriors shall use the blood of your subjects to paint the walls of this room.”

  “How dare you?” sputtered Fione’s chamberlain. “Our princess has done everything required of you, and now you seek to degrade her in front of her people?”

  “Given her reputation,” said Olene. “I had thought it an appropriate request.”

  Fione’s chamberlain became unintelligible in apoplectic outrage and Fione put up one hand to end his muttering. She did have a reputation. Princess Fione vai Joi unabashedly loved sex. She had ever since she’d teased a handsome groom too far in the stables one day and been richly rewarded for it. Her father, the then-Prince, had punished her, and thrashed the groom before dismissing the poor boy, but it hadn’t been too long before thrashing and dismissing servants who had carnal knowledge of his daughter would have left him saddling his own horse, cooking his own meals, and washing his own hall, none of which he’d known how to do. It had been far easier, and cheaper in the long run, to hire a decent apothecary and a number of talented servants who would keep her safe, out of trouble, and satiated.

  When she’d become Princess in her own right following her father’s death, it had more or less been open season on the eligible youth of the city. Fione was one of those women who fell quickly in and out of love, and it distressed her councillors no end when one of her favorites fell into disfavor and had to be replaced with whomever had taken their place.

  “Please, Lord Chamberlain, I appeal to you to not invoke our invaders’ wrath. Compared to that which I asked of our soldiers two days ago, Chief Olene asks a very small thing of me today.”

  “Who shall I begin with?” asked Fione, running her eyes over the men.

  “Me,” said Olene. She placed a hand between her legs, spreading the lips of her pussy. “Start with me.”

  Fione had no particular use for women. From time to time, she enjoyed them watching her in the act. A few of her conquests had requested another one to fill her bed, which, depending on how well the man had pleased her, was either granted or rejected, but she’d never desired a woman, and certainly never provided one with pleasure.

  She knelt in front of the throne, and shuffled forward on her knees towards Olene. She placed a finger on the dark-haired woman’s clit, manipulating the ring piercing back and forth, slowly.

  The bitch seized a rough handful of Fione’s hair, dragging her head closer.

  “Use your mouth, Princess,” she said.

  Fione kissed at Olene’s inner lips, sucking one into her mouth. For such a cold, condescending woman, Olene was warm and sweet down below. Fione lapped at the other woman’s pussy, then hesitated for a moment.

  “Don’t stop, princess, you are mine,” purred Olene. Fione buried her face in Olene’s crotch. She had always enjoyed it when men had played with her clit and licked her at the same time, and her hand resumed its activity on the Chief’s.

  “Oh, yes,” hissed Olene, closing her eyes and stroking Fione’s head. It occurred to Fione that her technique mattered much less to Olene than her subservience. The woman barely responded to a change in pattern of
Fione’s tongue on her pussy or a shift of the dance of fingers on her clit. Her other hand found its way up Olene’s chest, rubbing at one of the woman’s breasts.

  “Good, good.” Olene took her hand away from Fione’s hair, using it to maul her other breast.

  Olene stretched up one leg, wrapping it over Fione’s shoulder, allowing her closer access, and she renewed her tongue’s assault on the woman’s pussy, plunging it in and out.

  “Oh,” said Olene. Her eyes opened and she pushed Uli away. Both her hands slipped into Fione’s hair, dragging her as close as possible. “Do that more.”

  The princess’ jaw was threatening to clench, but she attempted to speed up her tongue anyhow. The hand on Olene’s clit was a blur now, the other pulling hard at the bitch’s long pierced nipple.

  Olene pulled Fione away.

  “Who is your master?”

  “You are,” coughed Fione, gasping at air while she had a chance.

  “And who am I?”

  “Chief of the Sky Dragon Clan.”

  “Yes,” sighed Olene. She pushed Fione’s head down into her pussy once again, and shivered slightly as the princess began working with her mouth again. “Good.”

  “Good,” she said again, the shiver growing.

  “Good,” she hissed, her hips roiling as the wave of pleasure from her climax rolled over her. She kept Fione’s mouth locked on her pussy as it gushed with her cum, spilling into the princess’ mouth and across her chin.

  When she was done and had released Fione, the princess sat up on her knees.

  “Who shall I please next?” she asked.

  “Mistress,” corrected Olene.

  “Who shall I please next, mistress?” spat Fione.

  Olene smiled, and looked at Varomar. “Has Aren or Cillen returned?”

  “They and their clans are still hunting survivors.”

  “Kili curse them,” said Olene. “I had hoped to have you enjoyed by all the chiefs together, but I suppose Sea and River will have to wait. Varomar, Alok, and Rooth will have to do. Prepare her.”