Dragon Jade Chronicle: The Warlock And The Warrior

by Jamie MacFrey

  Varomar stepped forward, seizing Fione by the arms and pulling her to her feet. He turned her to face the crowd, and reached both of his massive paws around her body to the front of her dress. He gathered a great deal of fabric in each hand, and then pulled.

  Fione’s fine silk dress gave out as Varomar ripped it apart. Her breasts, their small, bright pink nipples proud and stiff from her work with Olene, spilled out into the air, and goosebumps prickled their undersides. Varomar kept ripping, the thin material separating over her navel and then revealing her crotch, until finally it had pulled apart all the way down to the hem, which gave out with a small pop. She tried to cover herself with her hands, and Varomar ripped apart the sleeves of the dress, one after the other, before moving on to her panties, discarding the wreckage at the floor of the dais, leaving her nude before her court.

  Fione placed a hand in front her crotch, her knees closing, her other arm pressing across her breasts, trying to shield as much of herself as possible from view, or perhaps disguise the shameful response her body was having. Her chest was beating hard, and she glanced out at the court, a sea of eyes transfixed on the bare skin of their monarch.

  “Uli,” said Olene, gesturing. A tiny thrall ran up and seized a heavy clay jug from where it was sitting near the throne, and then struggled to lift it over Fione’s head. Varomar helped her.

  Oil sluiced Fione’s body, turning her long hair into wet whips, and pouring across her breasts, stomach, ass, and legs.

  Uli handed the remainder of the jug to Varomar, who poured a little oil into his hand, then stroked his long cock with it, passing the jug to Alok, who did the same before passing it on to Rooth. All three men had begun to harden, and Fione saw their cocks stood at attention as they all focused on her. She stared in awe as Varomar ran his hand across his cock, slick and shining with the oil. She ground her thighs together, her pulse racing. He stepped up behind her, a paw seizing each of her wrists and pulling them away from her body. He used one foot to press her stance wider.

  She gasped when a hand touched her pussy, and then gave a small shout when another circled the most sensitive part of her backside and a dainty thumb pressed into her asshole. She looked down and saw Uli was rubbing her body, distributing the oil as evenly as possible into every fold of her skin. After a moment, the thrall stepped away and nodded. Olene waved at her brother.

  “Oh, Vash!” cried Fione as Varomar held her wrists tight above her head with one hand and placed the head of his cock in her ass with the other. Fione shook as Varomar began to press against her.

  “Ah! Ah!” came her cries, before they lengthened into a loud groan as he pushed deep inside her, not fast, but not slow and certainly not gentle, either, until his hips pressed against her buttocks.

  “What do you think of the rumors?” Olene asked.

  Varomar grunted. “True.”

  He began to sink down to the dias, pulling a moaning Fione with him, until he was laying down and she was sitting atop him, his cock buried to the hilt in her ass. His knees tucked under her thighs, pressing her legs wide apart, revealing her cunt to the crowd.

  She heard gasps, and there was a commotion near the front row of the crowd. When Fione looked, she saw her poor chamberlain had fainted dead away.

  Olene waved at Alok, and Fione glanced in surprise when the Dragon Clan chief squatted before her, vigorously stroking his cock. One hand mauled her breast. He looked down, then plunged himself into her pussy.

  “Dragon’s bells!” moaned Fione in shock, prompting more surprised gasping from the crowd at their Princess’ language. Her eyes rolled back as both cocks filled her, and she fell against Varomar’s chest. Both Alok and Varomar started to thrust into her, causing her to moan and gasp whenever their rhythms matched in such a way that they were at the deepest inside her at the same time.

  Fione had been introduced to the pleasures of two cocks at once by a very amusing and very insistent adventurer who had practically begged her for weeks to make a go of it. If he had not been so handsome and such a skilled lover, she never would’ve have allowed it, but as it was, they’d found a willing young knight once the adventurer had proven letting him have her ass would be worthwhile for her. And she’d had sex with witnesses before, but they’d been playmates, temporary peers. This was different. These were two men having their way with her before her subjects. On the rare occasions she’d appointed a favorite to a position that required them to attend her at court, she’d sometimes fantasized about forcing them to disrobe and take her there in front of all her subjects. It had excited Fione just to think about it and she’d often cleared the court early when the desire had grown too great to contain and she’d worried about losing decorum.

  The real thing, despite the circumstances, aroused her greatly. She reveled in the taboo, in the shame of being so exposed, but the part of her that worried of the lasting implications of such an act was lost among the thrill of the knowledge that thousands of eyes were trained on her as the two men used her body.

  A hand reached at her head, turning her face to the side, and Fione glanced up at Rooth kneeling beside the three of them, before reaching a hand out to stroke his cock. She let one finger stroke down his shaft, then cupped his balls, juggling them in her fingers while he drew nearer, until he was close enough that she snared the head of his cock in her mouth and sucked gently at it.

  Rooth groaned as Fione shifted her body to lean out and pull more of his cock deeper and deeper into her mouth. Her tongue rolled against his cock.

  Fione pulled her head back suddenly, using both hands to stroke Rooth while she looked Alok directly in the eyes.

  “Faster,” she ordered, then turned and pulled Rooth back into her mouth, one eye watching Alok.

  The shaved headed man grunted, and grabbed Fione’s hips, pulling her a little ways off Varomar, before shoving back into her. Fione’s breasts began to roll back and forth on her chest in time to his quickening strokes. She hummed around Rooth’s cock.

  Rooth gasped. He wrapped both hands around her head, slamming his length into her mouth. Fione kept her humming going, and stretched a hand around to grasp at Rooth’s ass, encouraging him on to more.

  Rooth shook and he held her head still as he began to cum, spurting inside her mouth. Fione swallowed it as it came. When he’d finished, she placed a hand on his stomach and pushed him away, where he fell to the dais, panting. She rolled back to her old position on Varomar’s chest, so that she could look Alok directly in the eyes.

  Sweat was dripping down his head, off his brow into his eyes and onto her stomach, glistening from the oil. Fione lifted both her arms to her head, smiling as Alok watched as her breasts lifted slightly off her chest in response to the movement of her shoulders. He saw her smiling and caught her gaze.

  “Harder,” she ordered, her tone laden with a heavy disappointment bordering on anger.

  Alok grunted as he tried to comply, pushing himself faster and deeper into her.

  “Harder,” said Fione again. She moved her hips slightly in time to the pumping in her pussy and ass. Her pussy muscles clenched, giving Alok a gentle squeeze.

  “Oh, fuck,” said Alok. His thrusts became frenzied and his grunts began to blend together. Fione was shaking, her head bouncing against Varomar’s chest.

  “Harder,” she commanded Alok once again, stretching each syllable into its own word.

  With a roar, Alok tore her from Varomar’s cock, lifting her up into the air against him as his knees bent to maintain the balance, his hands holding her under the knees, lifting her body from him whenever he pulled back to renew a jab. Her breasts pushed up against his face and neck and she hooked her arms around his head. Eventually, she began to flex her legs, lifting and lowering her pussy in time to the thrusting of his cock.

  “Harder,” she whispered into his ear and grinned as the chieftain began to cum inside her in response, swearing to Vash and cursing as he did.

  “How disappointing,” said Fione. She
looked back over her shoulder at Olene. “The men of Tia Joi had no problem bringing me pleasure, and yet this chief of the Dragon Clans has no ability.”

  Alok began to kneel as his orgasm subsided, and Fione stepped away from him, his cum dripping down her thighs.

  Olene’s nostrils flared and her brow knitted together. She glared at Alok, before turning to look at Fione.

  “They’re not there for your pleasure,” she said.

  “No?” asked Fione. She paused over Varomar, his cock erect, still glistening with oil, and considered his size. Without prompting, she lowered herself over Olene’s brother, drawing Varomar back into her ass. She drew herself up until she was sitting over him, her hands steadying herself on his chest behind her.

  “I thought you had the three of them attempt it at once because you knew I’d never be pleased with just one. Is your brother a fierce warrior?”

  “The finest in all the Clans.”

  “I have heard,” said Fione, beginning to bounce up and down on his cock, “That once a woman tastes a Dragon Clan warrior’s cock, no other type of man in the world can satisfy her again.”

  “The prowess of the Clans in all things is known in every corner of the world,” Olene stated bluntly.

  “And yet, I fear it’s a myth,” said Fione, as she took Varomar even deeper into her body. “For I’ve had two of your warrior’s cocks, and a third in me at the moment, and all I am thinking about is the next time I’ll be lucky enough to enjoy a man of Tia Joi between my legs.”

  She felt Varomar begin to pump back against her again, going rougher in response. He barely even grunted as he worked, and when she looked back over her shoulder at him, she saw he was staring at her with a dark intensity. His hands gripped her wrists, holding her in place as he filled her again and again.

  Fione broke his hold, pulling herself to lean up over his knees, bouncing harder and harder on her own power. Varomar was much stronger than she had anticipated, and his cock was so large it felt a bit like he was splitting her open. And there was still the wild joy of knowing that the entire court was watching and listening as she tried to take her pleasure from the Dragon Clan warmaster. If she was being honest with herself, she was not sure she was going to win this little game. But as losing was not in her nature, she began to jeer a little more.

  “How sad,” she gasped as she bounced. “That I. Have to. Do all. This work. Because he. Can’t go. Harder!”

  Varomar grunted, then seized her hips, stopping her motion. He pulled out of her and flipped her onto her chest, the marble of the dais cold against her breasts. With his hands keeping her waist lifted into the air, he plunged back into her ass.

  Fione moaned at his speed and force. He was pinning her against the marble, and she used one arm to cushion her head against the onslaught.

  “I’m so close!” she moaned. “So close! I’d get there if you’d only go harder!”

  Varomar’s grunts were coming quite loudly now as he drew on the last well of strength and she was a little concerned that he might break her neck keeping this pace, but she needn’t had worried. The adventurer who’d been the first to take her ass had once told her it was the most heavenly place in all the world to be, better even than being in the presence of Vash, which he also claimed to have experienced.

  Varomar shouted as he came, and Fione gasped to feel how hot his cum was inside her. She pushed herself forward until he slipped out of her, still spurting, a rope falling over her back. She rolled until she was facing up, Varomar still moaning as his cum came pouring out of him, over her ass, pussy, and thighs and she slipped a hand between her legs, working on her clit.

  She had hardly been joking when she’d said she’d been close, and if Varomar had managed to hold on, it would have been a very near thing, because it took Fione just a few hurried seconds to get herself off, her moans echoing off the walls and columns of the throne room as she came, her free hand stroking one breast, never breaking eye contact with Olene, who sat brooding on her stolen throne. She shuddered and writhed on the dais in front of her people and the gathered troops of the Dragon Clans.

  Fione grinned in the afterglow of her climax, drawing herself up from the tile. “Well, the men of Tia Joi will have little fear of the warriors of the Dragon Clans seducing their wives.”

  There was tittering from the crowd and a bit of nervous laughter and Olene’s face contorted with rage.

  “That will be scant comfort to them when they are dead.”

  “Better for them to die as men than live as whatever passes for such in the Dragon Clans,” spat Fione. “Besides, you swore on your wretched jade not to harm my people.”

  “It would not be honorable,” rumbled Varomar as he rose to his feet.

  “You killed a man in Conclave and talk to me of honor,” said Olene, her hand waving in anger at him.

  “In defense of my chief.” Varomar’s voice was calm and measured. “These thralls are property of all the Clan, not only the chief.”

  Fione was rewarded when Olene began to pull at her hair in frustration. “Take her away,” she commanded a pair of warriors. “We’ll decide what to do with her later.”

  The two warriors climbed the stairs, and Fione was gratified to see they both sported what looked like painful erections.

  “Perhaps we should let these two attempt to demonstrate the prowess of the Dragon Clans,” she called.

  “Get her out of here!” Olene screeched, and one of the warriors dragged Fione to her feet, but she shook them off from carrying her further.

  “I’ll go,” she said, and stepped down the dais ahead of them. The crowd parted to allow her access.

  The nearest man prostrated himself on the floor. “Princess!” he cried. Behind him the lords and ladies and the burghers and their wives, fell to their knees in bows and curtsies, the hall echoing in calls of “Princess!” and “vai Joi!” Someone passed a lady’s long shawl along and Fione wrapped it over one shoulder like it was a sash of state, providing her with far more dignity than the fabric allowed. Hands pressed out, and Fione touched a few of them before the guards drew their weapons to discourage it.

  The throne room had become filled with an ungodly din, the citizens were stamping their feet and shouting “Tia Joi!” as Fione strode out of the throne room. The doors sealed with a great crash, and Fione could hear Olene shouting for silence.

  She paused for a moment, quaking, then slipped down against the wall.

  “Vash help us,” she murmured, the rough hands of the guards lifting her again to her feet.

  Chapter 7

  Pol slipped quietly through the second floor of the Dancing Sorcerer. His back was complaining as he kept low, watching how he distributed his weight across the floorboards, careful to prevent undue creaking. He heard a maid coming along the corridor, and he softly pried open a door and stepped inside the room.

  The fleshy pale moon of the tavern keeper’s ass greeted him, rising and falling with a series of grunts. Pol realized that there was someone underneath the bulbous man. He sighed with relief when her alabaster arms revealed she wasn’t Kiera. He didn’t think Kiera would have accepted such a deal in exchange for her rooms, anyhow, but the tavern keeper had hustled her above the main hall so quickly, Pol hadn’t had a chance to determine what his intentions were.

  “Oh. Yes. Please. Faster,” a voice emanated from below the tavern keeper’s bulk. It did not sound particularly convincing to Pol, but he supposed that at a certain point, one’s cock did not need much more than the motions of a commitment, and the tavern keeper certainly began a frenzied grunting in a frenzy in response. Pol heard the footsteps of the maid passing by the door, and he made a hasty exit from the room, crawling on his hands and knees.

  There was light in the last room of the hall, and some splashing of water. Pol thought he heard a voice singing. He snuck closer, and sure enough, Kiera was singing gently to herself. He tested the door to see if it was locked, then took extra care in turning the knob g
ently enough that she would not hear as he slipped into the room.

  Kiera was sitting in a copper tub, steam rising from the water, one shapely leg extended as she ladled water over it to wash the soap away.

  “‘Oh my beauty,’ said the thief to the maid,” she sang. “‘There’s many a price I’d never think to pay.’”

  Pol slipped closer, and one of Kiera’s hands lolled over the edge of the tub as she used the other to ladle water over her chest.

  “‘For almost everything in a thief’s life is free, my sweet.’”

  Pol was almost close enough to touch her, and he reached out one hand for her shoulder.

  Kiera’s sword raised into the air and pressed up against his throat.

  “‘’But for you, my sweet, I’d gladly pay you both my feet,’” finished Kiera, twisting round to grin at Pol. He glanced down the blade of her sword, which led his eyes down to the wide brown nipples standing up off her proud breasts. He glanced up into her green eyes, which watched him with amusement.

  “Shave your legs?” asked Pol.

  “As you can see, I’ve got a blade myself already, so I’m good,” said Kiera. She draped one leg over the tub, and Pol could see that it was indeed quite smooth.

  “Seems like that would be sort of unwieldy for shaving,” he said.

  “I’m quite handy with a sword.” Kiera sniffed at the air, her nose wrinkling and her face souring. “Vash dammit, Pol, you stink.”

  “Some of us...” said Pol. “...were not led by the owner to the finest room in the establishment, but were instead instructed, as we had no coin, that we would find much more suitable lodging in the stable with the horses.”

  “And then did some of us decide we ought to roll around in the horses’ shit?”

  “That was an unexpected perk of my accommodations, yes.”

  Kiera placed her sword on the floor, and stood up. Pol’s eyes traveled the length of her body as she rose, water running rivers down her legs, and stepped from the tub.