Daniel and Madelyn
- 2 years ago
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A Bargain Made Ch. 02 free porn video
Two days passed without incident. Neral was grateful for the discipline taught her from the moment she could remember. It made it somewhat easy to carry on her normal routine, though it didn’t hurt that she believed Deres when he said she wouldn’t see either of them anyway. All she’d do is alert the witch and that was the last thing she’d do willingly. It was more amusing to imagine all the things she’d do to her to repay her for what had been done.
Riding home she’d wondered again briefly why she hadn’t gone after the queen or set the city afire or something in response to the fact that she now knew what happened to her. The simplest explanation was that the witch had been so sure of herself and her power and that Neral was so enthralled with it that there was no need to plan for any other contingency when it came to at least her. The thought enraged her and shamed her at once. It enraged her for the obvious reasons and shamed her to her core because without Deres it would have been true. Truthfully, if he could help her end this before it began what he asked of her as far as marriage went was a small price to pay. The crystal was another matter and made her draw her her cloak closer to her body to banish the thought.
Or perhaps more what the idea of it made her feel. She consoled herself over it by telling herself that it was just a side effect of the workings of the witch on her mind. The rest of her evening was uneventful and, after a light supper, a bath, and a bit of reading she was finally able to drift off.
This city was filled with such small people that sometimes it was all the woman could do not to laugh or wretch. They milled about living their lives oblivious to the world around them and their betters. She and her kind saw more of the world than they could conceive and they were happy in their ignorance.
For her, it was just a job. She’d been paid a rather handsome sum to let the enemies of these people draw blood on some anniversary of some event that happened generations ago that hardly mattered anymore. The noble who hired her spoke with the passion of it happening yesterday and as though he were in the middle of it. The particulars bored her, so she’d listened for the times to nod and did so and feigned outrage alongside him in hopes that he might pay a like-minded soul a bit more.
Even though it was just a job to be done there was plenty of enjoyment to be had. Gold was always nice, and even after the guild took it’s share she’d do well. There was also something to be said for teaching these pitiful souls a lesson in humility. The fear that would crash through these people like a tidal wave would be sight to behold as the realization that one person had unleashed such mayhem to send them screaming from their complacency. In their minds it would be their much vaunted General Jaye that had torn their dull little world. No one would know of the woman’s hand in all of it.
But she would know, and that would be more than enough. She would know that one person had enough power to upend a kingdom
The streets were all but deserted at this time of night, save the sentries and the beggars and the whores. She scarcely had to use magic to be unseen here as the damp back alleys did more than enough when it came to offering concealment. It was only when she neared the general’s home that she truly began to weave the magics around her form, melting her into and yet beyond her environment so completely that someone could be next to her and have no clue she was there.
She slipped into the manicured courtyard, making no sound in the near-ethereal form as she made her way to the east side of the manor before spreading her arms from her sides and lifting herself from the ground, gliding upward until she reached the small balcony attached to the third-story window. She could have simply unlocked the front door and made her way to the general’s room, but what fun would that have been?
It took her a moment of concentration to shift the fields of magic around her so that a flick of her fingers unlatched the double-pane doors, not dropping her concealment until she was inside the bedroom.
Where she stopped.
There was something, something that stirred her senses for the briefest moment like when you’re nearly asleep and believe you hear a sound. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, sending out wisps of her own magic unseen by anyone but her to search the air for any hint of what it might have been. Much like that imagined sound in the night though, the more she attempted to focus on it, the more impossible it was to find until she finally dismissed it as a flush of excitement over a job nearly complete.
She moved deftly to the side of the bed and looked down at the sleeping Neral, using yet another bit of magic that allowed the witch to see her now peaceful form better in the dark. Truthfully she’d have been done already except that dear Neral was remarkably resistant to killing her queen. Her loyalty ran deep, which was commendable, the sorceress supposed, but so did her love of the effects of the magic. In that, she was like every other upon whom she had weaved the magic, whether for fun or profit. Eventually they craved control and sometimes it amused the witch to make them beg to be given a command to obey until they cried for it.
This one had spirit and might be fun to toy with until her will was ground to nothing, though she was far more likely to be torn apart by an enraged mob. She sighed inwardly. It was a pity, but there were always new toys to be found. She stopped indulging her own thoughts and began to focus on weaving the energies around her with the movements of her hands weaving intricate patterns in the air over her prey while her mouth uttered, nearly silently, a chain of spells in a druid dialect that was dead to most, each layer designed to deepen Neral’s sleep temporarily and make her mind easier to touch when the time came.
The chanting and spell weaving continued as the witch lowered herself to the bed, bringing her hands ever closer to Neral’s flesh. As expected, the woman of the house turned from her side to her back. The action had been seen often enough in others. The body knew it wanted long before the brain admitted the same and gave in.
All her fingers caressed Neral’s face now, each moving slightly this way and that, making a new pattern on the skin, touching it the way a lover would, down, sparing not an inch, from her cheekbones, over her chin and across her lips, deepening the spell. On the fourth pass, those full lips parted to release a long sigh as she seemed to sink farther into the bed, her heart skipping a beat as the spell began to take hold.
Neral’s eyes snapped open as every nerve in her body began to sing the same glorious song. She remembered now as she felt her nipples harden against her lace gown. She remembered because she was meant to. She knew how it would be, the pleasure would overwhelm her mind and then the words would ooze into mind to become what drove her. ‘No.’ Neral tried valiantly to lift her arms to try to stop those fingers from sapping her will, but she only managed to lift her wrists an inch or so.
Her voice dripped pity. ‘Oh, you always try so hard, but it always ends the same, sweet.’
The woman stayed focused and waited for her victim’s breathing to become more shallow and panting. She grinned once the body bent to her will that way as it meant that victory was imminent. Her left hand stopped its ministrations and her palm wandered down the front of her nightgown, pushing the quilt down with it to reveal her form.
‘Noooooooo.’ This one was a shivering plea.
The mage ignored her and let her hand slide under the gown and between Neral’s thighs, feeling the damp heat before she even touched that slit. ‘You’re so ready for me, aren’t you, dear? There used to be so much more struggle.’ Her voice hardened, ‘Open your legs.’
Neral’s thighs knotted as she mustered
what meager defenses she had left, but the sweet poison was filling her. Her body was a live wire and it felt like she was drowning in pleasure, every nerve in her body whimpering in joy and there would be more. All she had to do was…
‘Open your legs.’
The command shook her to her core. Her world started to narrow to only that touch and that voice, sinking into both. It would be so much easier to obey.
‘Open your legs as your mind opens.’
Neral’s chest heaved, almost unable to take in enough air. Gone was any thought of resisting. Her blanking mind managed to pull a thought together. {How can a person feel this good?}
And she would feel even better if she just gave up.
She was almost completely unaware that she could move her legs even as they bent at the knees, with them spreading them as widely as her joints allowed.
‘Good girl, Neral,’ she purred. ‘Mind as open to me as your wet pussy now.’ Two fingers slid in fully with no resistance and the last image her mind could conjure even as she came screaming was the witch’s fingers spreading the folds of her mind in just the same way and she welcomed the blissful darkness.
The sorceress grinned wickedly as she watched the woman’s orgasms crashed into one another, the screaming giving way to grunting and shuddering as Neral’s back arched and her hips churned and twisted in a frenzy. It was always the same: mind open and defenseless while the body sought the near endless pleasure. Thoughts and memories were forgotten in the face of it and her puppet master was free to rifle through them like letters on a desk and change words, phrases, or whole chapters to suit her whim. It was all open to her now.
While Neral’s eyes were closed, mouth hanging slack, arms now free to come over her head and white knuckle the headboard to aid in her own corruption, The sorceress began rifling through those thoughts, glancing at this page and reading that one, working her way to the memories and bits of her best changed or replaced to finally make it possible for her to do the final task that would be required of her.
It didn’t take her long to find something else.
Someone with magic like her own had followed after her. Its afterimage was as clear as hoof prints on the road during a light rain. She found the pages that were marked by him, pages he hadn’t bothered to conceal. He was powerful, having crushed the careful blocks that had been built without effort. It interested her to have a rival of some sort so she focused more deeply. Each guild often learned and worked the same spells in slightly different ways so, if one was skilled, one could examine the traces and determine the guild if not the person, but she recognized nothing, so she flicked through more pages of the book that was Neral to find more of what had been going on while the spell caster was left completely unaware.
Neral’s whimpers lost some of their appeal to the witch’s ear. ‘What have you done, girl?’ She continued to pick through memories even as she contemplated how she would track the upstart and make him pay for his interference when her blood ran cold at the instant she came across the page that showed her watch with interest as he weaved his snare throughout the room.
‘No,’ she hissed. She drew her hands from Neral as though they burned and jumped from the bed, already beginning to weave the best ward she could muster. How could she have not seen? For magic as powerful as she now knew it must be to leave only the faint trace it did the weaver had to have skills no one in her guild or any guild she knew of had.
Too many questions and no answers and the only important thing now was escape. Her ward only had to hold for the few feet to the balcony that now seemed miles away. She knew once in its center as she was, the snare would trip almost the moment she moved. Ward in place, enveloping her in a flowing, gauzy violet, she stared at the door with all the focus she had. The doors flew open with such force that the heavy glass of the right pane cracked.
She could make it, she assured herself. She *would* make it. She would make it and they would both pay.
Her leg pushed forward to begin a running stride and as soon as it found a place on the floor next to the foot of the bed the entire floor and all four walls lit in yellow fire that burned her eyes. Runes were everywhere. Symbols on top of symbols that flowed into new ones before turning back upon themselves in ways she recognized and in many ways she did not. As her ward sparked and evaporated around her and her limbs turned leaden she realized her understanding of magic was like a mewling baby trying to understand language compared to what he knew.
She wasn’t afraid when her body moved without her to put her standing ramrod straight, facing the bedroom door. She wasn’t afraid even as she knew without trying that she’d be unable to speak. Such was the nature of any snare, in those that she had created as well as those in the rare times she’d been caught. She consoled herself with the fact that both the weavers who had captured her in her career were dead by her hand.
Accepting that she was now caught, her mind shifted tacks. Any confrontation with this creature had to be carefully managed, as she might only get one chance to exploit a weakness and strike. She didn’t relish a fight with whatever this man was and would prefer to avoid it if she could and it was at least possible. He was a rival, but she had resources he might value. He was a male and she had wiles and charms and skills not magic as well as those enhanced with it, so she could make her value known there as well. Immediately, perhaps she could use either or both to secure her release. Ideally, she could forge an alliance and learn what he had to teach. With that power and the guilds unified under it and her, they could be formidable enough to come out from the shadows and take their place among the kingdoms of the world.
{One step at a time.} She calmed herself and waited.
Moments later, the lamps came to life and the runes disappeared, though their magic still held their captive like chains.
Deres moved swiftly, though calmly through the door, completely ignoring his quarry to take the same place the witch had. He looked at her now sleeping form and felt some shame at doing so, but it couldn’t be helped. From her lean body, long legs that seemed to stretch forever, and to her full breasts gently straining against that rumpled gown that was still damp with sweat, she looked like sex.
His voice was like a soft breeze.’Neral.’
When she didn’t stir, he touched her cheek and called to her again. This time she whined and turned her head toward his hand. Her eyes opened slowly, squinting for a second against the light, then widened as she recognized him and remembered bits of what she had just been through the haze of lust. She gasped and propped herself up rapidly on her elbows before looking down to truly take stock of her disheveled state. The color drained from her face, ‘Goddess.’
She scrambled up like a recruit tossed from her bed for a late night drill. The heat of her shame and anger seemed to bring the room’s temperature up a hundred degrees and the suddenness of her movement sent Deres up and away as quickly as he could to give her room. She grabbed the patterned quilt and used it to try to cover herself before looking down at it and realizing how pointless modesty was at this point. She tossed it away, more angry at the fact that her soul still felt more bare than her body than anything else. She glared at him, the decorum her mother drilled into her as much as anything a military instructor had all but gone, ‘How long before you woke me? Enjoy fucking me with your eyes? Take any other liberties while you were at it?’
‘I didn’t,’ he said, looking away for a moment, then meeting her eyes in a way she could respect, ‘take liberties, that is. I wouldn’t. But I looked. You’re beautiful and I look
ed. I can’t quite apologize for that.’
She felt a twinge of regret at her outburst. He had tried to help and gave his word to keep doing so. So he looked, so what? She was a sight tonight for certain anyway. Her adrenaline began to wane a bit before she looked at the bed, then back at him, ‘Why did you let her get so far with me? You know the things she wanted me to do.’
Now he was on firmer footing and it showed in his stance. ‘As it was I didn’t know if she’d sense the trap. I couldn’t follow right away or she likely would have detected me. I had to wait to get closer until she was distracted.
She glanced back down at the bed, her mind working as her training demanded. She should have seen it of course. ‘Bait.’
‘That I *do* apologize for.’
She looked at him, mind now in a mode that could push away the feelings still coursing through her. ‘Don’t. It was necessary.’ She suppressed a start at seeing the hooded form on the room standing like a statue next to her bed. ‘She’s caught?’
‘For now,’ he said. ‘Magic this strong and intricate is particularly finite. She’ll be able to try to break free in twenty minutes, give or take.’
The captive rejoiced. She knew how long she had to wait before she could make an attempt, assuming he told the truth.
He came to the witch and placed fingers at her throat, ‘You can speak, but don’t bother trying to cast. I can shut you up before you can do anything that matters.’
‘I believe it.’ She was pleased that it had returned with its usual strength. ‘An excellent snare. I’d only ever been caught as young sorceress. I can usually detect them from far away these days. My compliments to your teacher.’
He gave her a crooked grin, ‘She would thank you…just before leaving you as a scorch mark on her marble floor.’
‘Pity. I suspect we might get along under other circumstances.’
‘She has no taste for mercenaries.’
‘A job’s a job. It wasn’t personal.’
Neral’s anger flared and she rushed forward with the momentary intent of crushing the woman’s throat until she gurgled her last breath. She settled for yanking the hood from her head to finally see her tormentor and puppeteer. She was beautiful. There was simply no other word for her. Blonde hair cascaded down her back. Her smooth skin contoured over soft, rounded cheeks and a sharp jawline. Then there were the eyes that Neral had never seen, yet her mind remembered: blue and of seemingly infinite depth. One could fall into them and be lost with the way they seemed to look into one’s soul.
A spot of heat blossomed in Neral’s belly, her body still remembering her seduction and a part of her eager to be taken again. She tried to ignore it. ‘Murder isn’t personal?’
‘Do you remember everyone you’ve hacked to death on the battlefield?’
More faces than she cared to remember. There would be more, too, most likely. All out war hadn’t happened in a long time, but there were often skirmishes as the smaller lands tested the defenses of those around them. ‘That’s different. That’s not murder, it’s war.’
Her reply was full of disdain, ‘Like that matters to the conscripted farmer you’ve run through, thrown in a wagon in the morning and barely knows how to hold a sword and by afternoon he’s doing his share to turn the field red. He didn’t want to fight and didn’t know how and you kill him anyway. That sounds like murder to me. What a warrior you are.’ The witch smiled a fake, syrupy smile. ‘You should thank me. I took you away from that for a while. I pleasured you. Sure, you were empty, but you were guiltless and shameless. You were free, even as I had my way.’
She held on to the anger for all she was worth, ‘Free to kill my queen, you mean? Free to kill a woman I played with as a child? You tried that and you failed.’
She dismissed Neral, ‘I was caught is all. Sooner or later you would have. I admit that you’re one of the strongest I’ve ever worked when it came to killing one close to you, but no one has escaped doing what I wanted. You *enjoyed* doing what I wanted.’
Libbie
- 23.09.2020
- 12
- 0
