Gemorian Ascendant 1

I grabbed the little blonde beneath me by the throat as she began to whimper. My big thick prick drove deep into her with the force of a triphammer, and before long her squeals synched with the impact of my hips driving into hers. She clasped her hands behind my neck, her legs bouncing against my sides before she finally clenched her slim thighs around me.

“My lord, great master, I–ohhhhhheeee…”

I had shifted my hips, changing the angle I was sliding into her with. She apparently approved; she lost her track and descended once more into high pitched squeaks. I felt her tight walls grip the length of me, undulating, feeling like they were desperate to pull me in and keep me there. I bore down, nailing her hard into the bed, the blankets long consigned to the floor from our thrashing movements. I tightened my grip on her neck and her eyes rolled back in her head, her hands reaching down to grab my wrist. My perspiration dripped onto her already sweat-slicked form as she whined and mewled in pleasure.

“M-master…” her voice was strained from lack of air, among other things.

“Yes?”

“Cum…want…want your cum…” Her legs clenched harder around me.

“Does my dirty little priestess need my seed? Does she want my get in her belly from my cock pumping my essence deep in her womb?”

That set her off, and powerfully. Her legs held my hips against hers as she writhed against me, my cock buried fully in her spasming cunt. She wailed, her voice echoing throughout my chambers. She even dug her nails into my shoulders, scoring marks in my skin. I held my hand at her throat as I rode it out, the pale skin of her face turning just the right shade of red. She convulsed again and again, before finally collapsing back. Her arms fell back over her head, and her legs lay limply to either side of me. I took my hand off her and leaned back, and she gasped for air, panting. She looked just this side of unconscious, her long, platinum blonde locks in utter disarray behind her. Not that that stopped her from making a noise of protest and reaching up for me when I moved to pull out of her. “No…please…finish…”

I patted her on the cheek fondly. “Oh I will, I will, Eli. Don’t worry. But…” I went ahead and pulled out, then grabbed her leg and shifted, rolling her over. As soon as she realized my intent, she moved into position and thrust her ass in the air, shaking it at me.

“Oh yes lord, punish my ass, cleanse the transgressions of your naughty priestess, give your servant her just flagellation…”

A hand cracked down hard on her ass, leaving a bright red handprint on the smooth, taut flesh. Eli moaned, still waving her ass at me. It wasn’t, however, my handprint on her ass. “Oh, hello Maëlys.” I smiled at my seneschal and she inclined her head in response. “I didn’t see you come in. Did you need something, or just joining in?”

Maëlys smiled and looked down at Eliana, who was still waving her tight ass, looking for her righteous punishment. “I do need some things from you, Esteban, but they will keep. We all know how much our great priestess needs to exercise her acts of contrition.” With that, she drove her hand down sharply on Eliana’s other asscheek, leaving a matching handprint.

Eli hissed, her ass undulating at the sensations. “Yes, yes, yes! More, please, more!” I licked my lips at the sight; she was particularly worked up. This was going to be quite fun. However…

I grabbed Maëlys’s long, pale-lilac hair, and pulled her head down to my dripping prick, soaked and covered in a thin layer of froth from Eli’s copious pussy juices. “That may be so, Maëlys, but I didn’t give you permission to administer that punishment, so I’m afraid you’re going to have to share in it.” Without hesitation she took me in her mouth, tongue swirling, moaning her assent.

It was moments like this that I liked to close my eyes and appreciate how far I had come. Truly revel in the joys of hard-won success, and the pleasures it had wrought right from the beginning. I’d had cleverness and determination, but luck, too. I tried never to forget that, or take it for granted, as I commanded my thralls in pleasuring me and each other. But this is obviously not the beginning of my story. Far from it. So maybe it would be better if I started there…

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I was born in a dinky village out in the borderlands of the wilds. And not even one of the fur-trading towns, that at least get raucous and have merchants come through. Just farms and one mill and a public house that couldn’t even really be called a tavern, and served ale that didn’t deserve the name. Not that I’ve ever been much of an ale drinker. I was small and sickly my whole life. Not much use on a farm. Not especially coordinated either, which washed me out of being useful as a hunter, either. As I said earlier, I was clever, though.

Yes, this is one of *those* stories. Bear with me though. I think it’s got some twists in it.

At any rate, the local priest of Phesyn the Farm God noticed me, and decided to take me under their wing. Pastor Odesmond was his name, and he was one of those people who look middle aged for what seems like their whole lives. He was dutiful and was always community minded, fond of caring for the children. No, no like that; it is *not* one of *those* stories. He taught me all the lore and tales, all the rituals. He was impressed by how well I did, but it was pretty easy. He didn’t exactly have an extensive library. The hardest part was learning all the astronomical and seasonal weather tables. But he was so pleased he sent me off to Zoideswich, the closest real town. Even had its own wall. More importantly, it had a Sanctuary of Phesyn, where I could learn, and maybe become a priest one day as well. That didn’t go as planned.

See, the library there was more extensive than you would think, thanks to the spoils of several battles with Shyrdor, the Dark God of Cliffs and Caves, being housed there. Sure, the tomes about Shyrdor, his cults, and his teachings were hidden and forbidden. They were kept around so that if they came back the elder priests could develop counters to them. But, of course I would want to read every book in the library, those included! I personally don’t think that was particularly outrageous of me, even if it took getting into a locked storeroom.

I was caught; the first time, the reprimand was pretty severe, but the second time they just threw me out. But not before I’d learned some interesting lore about Shyrdor’s cults in the region, his followers, and a couple of cantrips.