Cold Comfort: Viktor and Illu (closed for HeyYoureThatGuy)

[faerun_girl]

Illu found herself blushing of all things when she saw her husband without armor. It was the plate that made him look bulky, but his body was quite proportional to his height. Oh, who was she kidding, he was built like a god and she knew it.

She didn't know one could be mad with how attractive a person was until now.

The cloak her husband gave her smelled of horse and was very warm. They didn't have this sort of textile in Bast-Galarion, and she felt the fur lining between her small fingers. As predicted, her husband suspected nothing, but she was surprised when he sat her sidesaddle and sat behind her.

Knowing the still-fresh hostility between their people, Illu was very careful not to meet anyone's eye except for her husband's. She would rather they think her haughty than for her to trigger anyone. She would ask Sir about it later.

While it was true that riding with a very sore bottom would be painful, it wasn't as bad as Illu thought. She did heal most of the damage, but not all. It felt oddly sweet to remember how her husband gave her all that attention hours ago.

While she was wary of the soldiers trudging along with them, she allowed herself to let her guard down a bit around her husband. Just as she felt she could lean back against his massive bulk, the top of her head reaching his shoulder now, she felt a stiffness against her rear, and movement on the immense cloak that covered her whole body.

She glanced around, mortified to find it happening, but it seemed her husband was an insatiable beast! Even Kings weren't immune to such behaviour, apparently.

She felt his large, calloused fingers and palm land on her knee, and she tensed, her soft rear pushing more against the thick rod that lay between his legs.

Wait a damn minute, how big was he?!

She couldn't feel its heat, but she knew it grew in size and stiffness as the minutes ticked by. At the same time, the hand that she thought would stay still on her knee now began to caress her naked thigh. The temperature wasn't so cold that the opening would let any chill permeate too much, but the contrast of the air and his large hand climbing up and down her leg was maddening.

She looked up at him, and his face was impassive as ever. Curse him.

She glared up into his chiseled jaw.

He knew exactly what he was doing, the malignant brute, with his hand dancing lightly on her creamy, soft skin, which had been massaged and lotioned just that morning, that if light hit it just right it would literally gleam. If he pressed his fingers into her creamy skin, it would sink into her flesh like a sword laid on velvet, and leave sensitive red marks.

The man was insane! His fingers even dipped between her legs, as if he was searching for something, but he would be careful not to touch her slit. Still, his fingers caressed and quested for her snatch, which had undoubtedly started to leak.

Two can play at this game, husband.

Everytime his touch neared her clitoris, which she was ashamed to know already seeking his touch, she would rear back, grinding her soft, stinging backside against his thick manhood. She felt it twitch even through the layers of cloak and his own clothes.

She bit her lip and hissed, hoping he would hear it. The pervert.

 

[HeyYoureThatGuy]

Viktor felt his Little Princess pressing her body into his shaft. Less than a day, and she was already incredibly turned on, trying to tease him back, or both. He hadn’t really cared if she was a virgin or not when he married her. This was a political marriage. But corrupting such an innocent woman was an added perk.

Even before the war, he had a sense for those who had desires that were the opposite side of his coin. And there was just something, even through her defiance, that called out for this.

He had wanted to take her the carriage, but she was so pristine. He’d tumbled a farm girl in a hayloft after they both spent a day in the fields. He’d been a sweaty, stinking mess, but so had she. The woman who was currently doing her best to tell him how ready she was had been prepared for him. Clean and perfumed. The way he wanted to defile her was not with sweat and dirt.

While he was able to keep his face impassive, he was impatient to get to camp. There in the command tent, he’d be able to bath. Then he’d take her. Until then, though, he wanted to make sure she was ready. Feeling her as she ground into his cock, exemplified just how small she was compared to him. Again, he wanted to break her, and part of that was pain, but part of it was pleasure too, and he wasn’t looking to ruin her for future use.

So he finally parted her legs again, this time he was going to take his time. He’d keep her on the edge for the rest of the ride to camp. There’d, of course, be some delay. He’d have to address the troops, introduce them to their new queen. Oh, yes, and perhaps feed her if she wanted, but if he did his job right, he’d have her feeling an entirely different hunger.

 

[faerun_girl]

Illu was fighting a losing battle with her Sir (damn him), as he seemed to be stoic even in the face of pressure on his hardened shaft. Theoretically, she knew this meant he was aroused, blood rushing into his member to create the semblance of steel under his skin. She just didn't know how he was able to keep such a neutral face when she was fairly distracted by the motion of his hand.

She tried not to dwell on the fact that she had been turned over this man's knee and spanked like an errant child. Do they even still did this to children today? But what appalled her more was that despite--no, because of the pain, she liked it.

Each smack had forced all thought from her mind. It's not that she didn't want to think, but simply that she couldn't. While his hand bounced on her rounded flesh, she would not be able to string two thoughts together.

Since the death of her parents, she had never felt so free. It was vaguely cathartic.

And she hated him for it. How dare he tear down her defenses like that--as if sacking the kingdom wasn't enough!

But she knew that was unfair. Her Uncle had incited this war, and this King had no choice but to respond. She would have done the same, in his stead, but would have prepared better relief for the affected provinces.

She wondered where he would be taking her. Would she ride all the way to her new bedchamber in all but his cloak? Did she even have a bedchamber? Or would he chain her to his bed like a little pet he could toy with for the rest of his days?

Annoyingly, she found that prospect not as unappealing as she initially thought.

She felt his large hand break the pattern of his slow exploration, even as the juncture of her thighs was slick with the evidence of her arousal. His fingers nudged her legs open, and she tried to fight it at first, but she eventually gave in. It was impossible to balance while he did that.

Her slick, parted thighs revealed her leaking slit to the colder air. but his hand stayed there. Was she to be fondled and molested at all times?! Was nowhere sacred to this Warlord?

Deciding as he parted her legs, she healed her backside completely, making the redness disappear and all the pain leave with magic. Beneath his hands, her body glowed as if her skin gleamed with health and power for a few seconds. By the time she would take off the cloak, it was as if he never touched her.

 

[HeyYoureThatGuy]

When they finally made it to camp, his bride would be more than ready. Reluctantly, before the entered the light of torches and bonfires he withdrew his hand out of her cloak.

There were cheers when he passed through the gate of the quickly constructed palisade; hopefully, the last fortification his people would ever build in Bast-Galarion. While some had, until their last breath, wanted to continue the war, there were many more who wanted it to end. He was not the only farmer or tradesman who was forced to take up arms to defend their homes.

While he was a reluctant leader, he wouldn't let it show to the men and women who'd joined the fight to protect their lands. From atop his horse, he gave a brief speech about how they'd be returning home with their new queen and a new treaty. Then, holding his Little Princess in one hand, he slipped from his horse and began heading to his command tent.

He set his queen on the stony ground, the cloak still around her, keeping her covered, though it dragged on the ground. He walked beside her, slowing his pace, so she didn't have to run to keep up with him. His stride was so much larger than hers. Most people parted to let him through. A few shook his hand. And then one soldier, a man who must have assumed when he said their queen he meant THEIR queen, roughly grabbed her arm and tried to reach under her cloak.

Before Illu could even move, Viktor was onto of the man. She had yet to actually see him fight. For a man his size, he moved with surprising speed and grace. Her cloak had barely fluttered, and Viktor had his boot on the side of the man's head, pushing his face into the dirt. At the same time, he wrenched the man's arm behind his back in such a way that Illu knew there had to be broken bones and torn ligaments. The man cried out in something closer to a child's squeal than she thought a full-grown man could make. Holding the man in place, Viktor shouted clipped words to the crowd. Then looked down at the man and shouted something, before her ears picked up two elvish words her husband was screaming at the man. "I'm sorry."

With his face half in the dirt, the soldier repeated the words, "I'm sorry," over and over. He'd done an admirable job with the difficult to master vowel sounds for someone with a boot on their face saying words he'd probably never spoken before.

Still holding the man in place, Viktor looked up to Illu and said, "Little Princess, what punishment do you think befits a man who attempted to molest his queen."

 

[faerun_girl]

Illu thought she was prepared for his camp, but the sight of so many Dryger who towered over her made her swallow, and no amount of sweet molestation beneath her cloak would get her to let go of her anxiety. She forced herself to be calm, even regulating her stress hormones, as her husband shouted a rousing speech to his people.

That was when Illu realized a very large problem that in her haste to to prepare for her marriage and the treaty was completely overlooked.

She didn't know one word of Drageri.

Her husband spoke Elvish easily, so she assumed that a language barrier wouldn't have been a problem--but now she realized her mistake too late. She didn't even have a book to teach her. She had no idea what they were saying, and that made her realize that despite being their Queen, she was in enemy territory. She was not safe here, no matter how large her husband was, or how much they loved him as their King. She was just an elven woman fobbed off on him for the sake of peace.

But she wasn't trained by the late Queen Emaleth for nothing. She stood as proudly as she could next to her husband and trained her face to the expression that made elven beauty into a knife that could cut a man's eyes. It would take all her cunning, power, and a lot of luck to keep herself safe. This was the bargain she struck--the price she willingly but unwittingly paid to stop the bloodshed.

She made her bed, and so she must lie in it.

She didn't even care if she was naked beneath the cloak. That was a minor concern--and had mostly to do with the weather. If they found out she was naked, they should be shamed for even thinking they had a right to look.

Her husband's wicked hand was thrust at her, and she gave them her most regal and haughty look before placing her tiny hand in his, and walked with him. She couldn't break into a run to keep up with his legs or else her state of undress would be revealed. She was glad he decided to walk slowly.

Illu felt her right arm suddenly wrenched back, but before she could even let go of her Sir's hand to slice at the interloper with magic, her husband had already moved.

So fast.

She turned, and she didn't even have to feign disgust when she saw a Dryger male with half his face plunged into the dirt. For her husband's bulk, he rivaled the lean elven swordmasters she healed of their injuries in agility and grace. His economy of movement was probably a physician's dream to document.

Her husband wasn't even sweating, but the other male's arm was already dislocated and most of the ligaments torn. An injury that explosively inflicted would never heal correctly through normal means. This male had just lost the use of his sword arm.

At that moment, there were no other people around them. It was just her, her impossibly quick husband, and the scum that dared touch the Queen's arm. She heard Viktor bellow at the downed male, and understood he was telling the latter to apologize.

And so the man did.

But when her husband looked at her from his imposing height, he was her King, and she felt a connection like there was a thread from her head to his, and they were completely in sync. She knew what he had done, and what he was asking. To survive in her new kingdom, she had to respond in kind.

"Tear it off, please, Sir." she said, not missing a beat. "I'd like to take a look at it."

 

[HeyYoureThatGuy]

Viktor was astonished. He had expected this tiny elf maiden, a healer, to shirk from the violence that was sometimes necessary. But she'd embraced it. There would be tales of this event. Not only would the Warchief protect his queen, but she would not forgive such an insult. She may be small, but she was mighty. She'd make a fine queen.

And she'd even said 'please' and' Sir.'

Viktor moved his boot from the man's head to his shoulder. She'd asked so politely for his arm to be torn off, not his skull crushed, though he'd have done it for her if she asked. While Viktor had no taste for war, there was still the blood of fierce giants in his veins that demanded he test his strength. When he was a farmer, it was used to plow fields. When he was a warrior, it was used to slay the enemy. Now, as a king, it was used to show that he would protect his elven queen just as fiercely as he had protected his people from the elves.

The peace would hold.

While he wouldn't have needed it, he felt the heat in his blood revel at the chance to use his full strength, and he quickly tore the man's arm from his body. Then he dropped it on the ground before his bride, while his boot still rested on the shoulder of a man who would never again touch what belonged to his king.

"And now, Little Princess?"

 

[faerun_girl]

The man's earlier squeal was nothing compared to the pathetic wailing assaulting everyone's ears now, especially when everyone couldn't even breathe at the violence their King wrought on behalf of their new, foreign Queen. They had children taller than her back at home, and here she was commanding their King to pull out a general's arm.

She knelt on the ground, nudging the still-twitching fingers with her boot and she counted how long she had until this sorry excuse for a soldier bled out. She needed to work fast--but she also needed to make a point.

Her thin, pale arm grasped the severed limb by the wrist, and she made sure they only saw her arm and the top of her knee. Using a technique she hated, she was able to lift the limb easily as the blood dripped onto the ground while she made a show of looking at it. Then, she walked calmly towards her husband and smiled serenely at him, as if they were the fondest of lovers.

"Thank you, Sir." she said sweetly, then raised the limb to whack the bloodied, broken bone across the injured Dryger's face. Everyone heard the sound of bone meeting flesh.

The male was so defeated, his own severed arm used to bludgeon him, that he stopped screaming.

She made a face then, and knew she would pay for this the moment she stepped inside their tent, so she made the adrenaline course through her veins.

Illu was not the foremost magical healer in Bast-Galarion for nothing, and the reason her family was royalty was because magic was the most potent in their line. Her father could level a city with a day's worth of spellwork from his bedroom. Her mother make enough food grow in the midst of the most bitter winter to feed a country.

Their daughter, on the other hand, stopped short of raising the dead. For now. If it still lived, she could fix it.

She set the bleeding joint against the mangled shoulder and PUSHED with her magic, reattaching every nerve, vein, and fiber all at the same time. If he thought losing the arm would hurt, he'd never felt nerves reactivate.

The Dryger fainted in a pool of his own blood.

She scoffed again, and immediately knew the hand she used to lift the severed limb was already cramping from the magic she used. She wouldn't be able to hold her husband's hand. So she walked up to him instead, and leaned sweetly onto his body, like she was a pet to her Master, hoping he would get the cue and carry her, like the violent, spoiled Queen she wanted to be known as for the meantime.

"If they don't move him, he'll probably live, Sir." she said, and stepped into her husband's arms.

Keep it together, Illu.

 

[HeyYoureThatGuy]

Viktor picked up Illu, shouting her message to the crowd, and hauled her to the command tent. As he strode there, the masses not only parted, some people even fled for fear that they’d upset their new queen.

The Dryger would all answer to her. All would respect her. Some might even fear her. But they now knew she was powerful beyond anything his people had ever seen. And she knew exactly what she had done with that display. She took the moment of his fury, and she turned it into a potent political weapon. He was not raised to be royalty. She very much was. There would be time to figure out how best to use her skills to rule the lands they now controlled, but right now, Viktor had much more urgent concerns.

When they entered the tent, stewards already had a bath of steaming hot water ready for him. They had worked hard to fill the tub. He thanked them and then told them to get the fuck out.

He tossed his queen on to his bed furs and began stripping his clothes off. He took a step towards her, almost forgetting he’d disrobed so he could clean himself before having his way with her.

He set one foot in the tub, and turned to her, “Would you care to join me, my Queen?”

 

[faerun_girl]

She was a bit busy enduring the effects of forcing her muscles to carry twice its capable load while her husband disrobed. She certainly missed a show.

Illu had to pay for that stunt with a world of pain, and she looked at her right forearm and watched in idle horror how the cramping caused her muscles to spasm right before her eyes. If she weren't the one having the cramps, she would have been fascinated.

But her Sir called, and a bath after that ride and being in that awful carriage seemed wonderful. Even if her molester husband was in it.

So even as the cramping escalated, she turned, and had forgotten the pain as she ogled her husband's body. After his masterful display of speed and strength, his naked physique would have convinced her that he was a god, with how functionally lethal his body was.

Her mouth dried and she swallowed, her brown eyes admiring the breadth of his shoulders, how his body was not the trim, purposefully sculpted figure that dozens tried to achieve artificially--but simply what happened to the male form when he was honed in battle with a heavy, two-handed weapon.

Her eyes drifted down the planes of his back, which was cut with muscle. A girl could spend eternity learning each dip. His midsection wasn't trim nor was it wide (it was just right)--and she found the proportionate core stability incredibly sexy.

His backside left her at a loss for words.

The huge scar she felt hours earlier looked less severe, but he was nonetheless covered in them, as if his pastime was collecting injuries. Well, there'd be none of that anymore.

She shed the cloak, presenting him with her naked, gleaming body the second time that day, and walked towards him, her breasts peaking in the colder air. One of her arms hung uselessly at her side, but she didn't care. Her husband beckoned to join his bath, and despite wanting to pout, she would rather complain in the tub with him.

Trying to still get the better of him, she sniffed, and moved past him to get in the tub first, even as she held on to one naked shoulder for balance. But her snootiness only backfired when she turned back to him, and she saw what had been rubbing her backside on the way here.

His chest hair tapered down from his pectorals into a treasure trail that lead to his fully-erect cock that stood at attention, pointing its bulbous, dark head at her like the business end of a club. Just from visual examination feet apart, she could tell it was just as large as her wrist and almost as long as the her forearm.

He's huge everywhere!

She made a small, half-scared and half needy sound at the back of her throat, and submerged herself in the tub, looking up at his face, then his massive cock, then his face again.

"Wh....Why are you so huge?!" she asked, almost accusing, and completely forgetting to call him "Sir." She was too preoccupied with her husband's aroused state.

But seriously, how was that supposed to fit inside...inside anyone at all?!

 

[HeyYoureThatGuy]

He submerged himself in the water. Viktor grabbed his bride and set her in his lap, her back to him. His cudgel was between her leg, rubbing up against her sex.

"Why are you so huge, SIR? You must have heard the tales of giant blood in my veins," he said as one of those veins the blood ran through, pulsed against her leg. Leaving her there, he quickly ran a soaked sponge over his hair, face, and any part of his body above the water. Tossing it into the tub, he placed his lips on the back of her neck and gently kissed down to her shoulder, which he was now noticing seemed very tense. He took a cupped palm of water and poured it over her shoulder. Then the same hand that had reddened her behind was massaging the muscles in her shoulder and arm.

"Don't worry." He started kissing along her other shoulder. "I will go slow with you tonight." He kissed up her neck before gently nipping with his teeth right below her ear. "You will take all of it inside you tonight, but we have plenty of time."

With his free hand, he finished undoing her braid, which was much less neat than it had been this morning when they married. Then he ran his fingers through her hair, making sure that she could feel his fingers sliding down her spine with each pass.

"And you shouldn't underestimate yourself, my Queen. You are the strongest woman I have ever met."

With her long black hair completely free of its braid, he slid his hand to her front, cupping each of her breasts, in turn, finding where to touch to make her body react.

"You are steel wrapped in silk."

His lips continued there gentle siege on her neck, back, and shoulders. He continued massaging her arm until he felt the tightly corded muscle unwind. He took the hand that had forced her tension to submit and curved around her. He began lightly brushing his fingers down her sides and onto her thighs.

"My people will follow you. For the rest of your days, the only person you will ever have to answer to—" he fluttered a hand up her front, grabbed the peak of a breast, pinching roughly before twisting and pulling it. He growled, "—is me." He lessened the intensity but didn't release her tortured nipple. He brought his other hand up, grabbed the entirety of her other breast.

"The only person who will ever see you nude is me." Again he punctuated by tormenting her nipple.

Then he released her other breast, and trailed her hand between her and his shaft, over her pearl, and then pushed just the tip of his finger into her channel. "The only person who will ever touch you is me." After one final assault on her bruising bud, he released it, the blood rushing back into the flesh.

He picked Illu up, dangling her over the tub. As he turned her around, he noticed the absence of the redness he had gifted her. Then he realized what she had done. If she could find loopholes like that in the choices he gave her, he knew he could more than trust her to negotiate any future treaties.

He was impressed. Then his breath caught for a moment, and his chest went tight, a feeling he hadn't had since he was young and was first about to lay with a woman. He hadn't thought about her healing herself. He began to wonder how much rougher he could be with her. He took good care of his possession, but this might mean he could unleash just a little more with her, which would help increase his control over her.

He finished turning her around. Then he rested her against him until his steel was trapped between them. Viktor kissed her, gently at first, but then with greater force as he slipped his hand behind her head. He wound his fingers into half soaked hair until his knuckles rested on the back of her skull. He pulled her back, gently but insistently as his free hand cupped her rounded bottom.

"You are a queen, but you are MY queen."

 

[faerun_girl]

She didn't even care if he spanked her anymore, all she truly wanted to do was ascertain that the size of her husband's penis was what she was actually seeing. But he got into the water with her and just as easily pulled her into his lap, where she could feel the long shaft of his cock nestle between her legs and curve up her mound. He would break her.

She was wondering if she was allowed to touch it, but her hand had already strayed to the massive rod jutting out from his hard body. He was so warm, and she concluded that Dryger ran hotter than Elves, and tried to file that information away.

Her husband's bulk behind her gave her a sense of safety she hadn't felt until that moment, even as her small hands dove between her legs to finally touch her husband's cock for the first time.

"Y..you're the biggest I've ever seen, Sir." she blushed madly when her soft skin made contact with the equally soft skin of his cock, which felt like a velvet-wrapped bludgeoning weapon. She spread her legs more, and wantonly pressed the rod to her closed, pink slit.

She felt him kiss and massage her shoulder, and she let out a needy moan, arching back against his warmth, her clit now pressed lightly against the bobbing cock beneath the water.

"Sir...It's impossible..." she murmured, the way her gruff, rough husband spoke in her ear made her insides melt and a heavy tingling begin between her legs. This felt deeper and hotter than the carriage ride. "You'll break me..." she purred.

She didn't notice him undoing her braid, but she felt the dark strands slip and float in the water. She wondered why he would choose to praise her now after she hit his own soldier with the severed bone of his arm, but she would be lying if she said his praise didn't make her feel odd. "My King," she began, finding her thoughts and voice moving under a delicious weight. "I will only say it is true because he ripped a man's arm out for me."

Then her molester-husband's massive hands circled to her front and he began to pluck and play with her breasts and nipples, kneading softly and teasing the pink tips. Her small hands came up over his, and it felt extremely naughty.

Where all wives suddenly overcome with desire like this on their wedding night?

She trembled as he fondled her breasts, the sensations all new, she didn't know if she would ask him to stop or continue. His lips fell to her neck and the tingling in her crotch increased.

It was so hard to listen to his low, rumbling voice, but she heard the possessiveness there, and felt the pinch and pull on her pale pink nipple in her clit, the tiny nub aching for attention.

After such gentle fondling, this painful pinching seemed like a fire was lit under her lust, and her wantonness roared to life. There was no pretending now; in this tub, on this evening, her husband owned her body.

"Yes...Yes, Sir. Please!" his words and how perfectly timed his explorations were too much, and she found herself on the verge of orgasm. But for some reason, she was scared to let go, even as his finger dipped into her wet, virgin channel for the first time.

She was about to thrust her hips forward to take more of his fingers (which she surmised was as large as the usual elven cock) into her body, but he removed his hand and lifted her out of the tub, making her sit on the lip. He paused a bit though, and she smirked to herself, knowing he saw the unmarked skin of her bottom.

If he wanted her to have marks, he was going to have to make his promise ironclad.

Then he did something she didn't expect.

He kissed her. She felt the pain of her cramps melt away as if his kiss was the cure to all her suffering. Foolish girl.

This was the first time Illu had ever been kissed in such a way. Her Father and even her Uncle guarded her virtue better than the public granary during a famine, but for completely different reasons. Her husband started the kiss softly, even sweetly, but soon plundered her mouth like she was Bast-Galarion and he was still at war.

She moaned, her small arms coming around his neck to hold him closer, her feet hooking lightly on his backside as she enjoyed his attentions. She could get use to this sweet, passionate side of her husband.

Then he pulled her head away, and she felt satisfaction bloom in her chest, seeing his blue lip swollen and tender from kissing her.

Her hand wandered down to feel the skin of his collarbones and pectorals, which were like the strongest bands of flesh she had ever touched. Her usual magical scalpels would not be able to slice through him as effectively as she did with other soldiers. The thought made her incredibly wet.

His long, thick, manhood was pressed between them, the tip clearing the top of her mound easily. Was it even possible to take him in as he wanted? The medical part of her brain said no, but the wanton elven wife said yes.

She was sure there was a healing spell that could make her two sides both happy.

He called her his queen, and she should have been an obedient, sweet lover--but she couldn't help it. Riling up her violent molester husband was so very easy.

"Not a queen yet," she teased. She raised her eyebrow, wondering what sort of effect it had when she was dripping with water and her long dark hair was plastered on her soaked body. "I have yet to be in a consummated marriage. My bridegroom has not taken my maidenhead, you see." she pulled him closer, as much as she could, her own sweet lips seeking to whisper in her ear.

"You must tell me when he decides to do so," she whispered. "Sir."

 

[HeyYoureThatGuy]

Viktor picked up Illu out of the tub and tossed her, still dripping wet, onto his bed. Her damp skin might grow cold under different circumstances, but he believed he could keep her warm in so many ways. With speed greater than that which he had protected his queen, he was on top of her. His bulk overshadowed her small frame as he held himself up with his hands to look down on her without crushing her.

"Soon, very soon, he'll decide to do so. But first, he must make her ready."

He marveled at how small she looked under him, how truly stunning she was. When he took her from the temple, he thought this moment would be a slightly pleasurable duty to seal a treaty. Now, he wanted her not for the peace she'd bring his kingdom. He wanted her just because he wanted her.

Her small size might be a hindrance in some way, but it did provide him with some unique opportunities. He pulled her to the edge of the bed and knelt between her thighs. Using his broad tongue, he had his first taste of her. She was like dry red wine and sweet summer berries. He lavished her, wondering how he'd make good on his promise that she'd take all of him. He usually kept his promises, but this might be one he couldn't. The length was a thing he could solve, not take her as forcefully, not go as deep. The girth was a problem that he was stymied on how to fix. Right now, he'd make her beg for release.

"You will not come unless I give you permission."

He moved her leg to over his shoulder. Then scooping a hand under her backside—noting he'd have to strike again to return it to a cherry red—and he sat up pulling her to his mouth. He stood, lifting her higher. The tent was large to accommodate him, but she'd be brushing the top unless she bent her neck.

Though, Viktor wasn't much interested in where she was putting her hands right now. What he was interested in was making her beg. He hadn't decided yet whether he'd give her permission or not.

 

[faerun_girl]

The tiny elf queen bounced on the Warchief's bed, her dripping hair and body undoubtedly ruining it. Before she could even rise up on her elbows or look at her husband leave the bath, he was on top of her in a flash, moving too quickly for her eye.

She knew in theory what was about to happen. She had books and had once witnessed an actual coupling in a brothel when she was being trained on how to be a Queen. Being able to please her King or at the very least leverage that sort of thing was still part of her training.

But with Viktor, the terrain of their sexual dynamic was very much different from everything she'd read or known. He molested her without warning, did not take her maidenhead, and cared about whether she orgasmed or not.

He covered her entire body with his, the blue-grey tinge of his skin much better than when she met him. Taking pride in her handiwork, her small hand reached up to stroke his skin, and found it stretched over bands of hard muscle. He said he was the only one who could ever touch her. She wondered if that was true for her as well.

His bulk was intimidating, but she was already thinking of ways to accommodate his girth. She would definitely need to elasticity, maybe even literal hormone manipulation. Even if she didn't have her powers, they were expected to consummate, and to eventually produce an heir. There would be no immaculate conception for the heir of the Dryger and Bast-Galarion; she was expected to carry them all no matter how they turned out.

She was literally pulled out of her thoughts when Viktor had yanked her feet to the edge of the bed. She was about to chastise her husband for being a brute when she felt the wet, flat side of his tongue lap at the juncture of her thighs, wet and gleaming with moisture from both the bath and her desire.

Her closed pink slit soon gave way to his wicked tongue, as he unashamedly tasted her most intimate part, and Illu felt like all the sensation in her body was found where his tongue met her flesh. His mouth opened onto her slit, and she realized now why a lot of people called them "lips."

And there he was again with his ownership of her body's pleasure. But if she was being completely honest, he didn't have to tell her--the sexual response was so intense, she already felt like she was conditioned.

But she wouldn't let him think he had gotten to her that easily. She just slapped a man's face with his own glenoid, she could handle her husband. Maybe.

She would sadly be proven completely wrong in the next moment, though, when he took her slender thighs and put them over his broad shoulders, then took all her weight and stood up, the motion causing her to literally sit on his hands as he held her up by her bottom, her sex positioned right at his mouth.

Illu bent down to hug his head to her chest, her nipples grazing his temple.

Oh but this angle was pure torture, each stroke of his tongue laving her clit and opening, the tip of his tongue pressing and prodding her soft inner flesh without shame or plan to stop. All she could do was hold on, both onto him, and onto her pleasure.

This was just the second time she'd done it, and she knew she was not going to be good at this thing for a long while.

"V..Viktor....! Sir! Please...no..not like that!" her thighs trembled, flesh quivering around his jaw as he kept eating her out, the barrage of sensation slowly radiating out from the apex of her thighs, signaling that she was already at the base of her peak, and she only held it at bay.

"Ohh....oh...please...please Sir...please let me cum...your tongue's inside me...I can't...!" she began to plead, not caring if the whole camp heard her, but they had no idea what she was saying anyway. It would help her husband's renown if word of the elven Queen's frantic pleading reached the right ears. For now, savagery and fear were his weapons in keeping the peace.

She would provide the relief--if only he'd let her.

"Sir! Please, I can't stop it...it's too much...your tongue won't stop! Please stop, Sir, or I'll cum and you said I couldn't..." she ended her rant on a needy whine, vaguely disbelieving how much he'd reduced her to a mewling female with just his mouth on her sex.

 

[HeyYoureThatGuy]

He knew he gave her an impossible task. He knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself. She was so new to the world of sexual pleasure. Even though it had been a while, he knew what exactly what to do. He'd tested her in the carriage, mapping out where and how much pressure.

She couldn't stop herself. At least not without her magic. She could heal the marks he left on. She could reattach a limb. Had she really wanted to, she probably could have stopped herself. But she didn't want to. Right now, she wanted release more than she wanted to show her king respect.

And he would give her what she wanted, and then what she really wanted. She wanted to climax. She wanted to disobey. She wanted to be spanked.

"No, you cannot come." His voice boomed into her sex before he went back to working his tongue on her and in her.

 

[faerun_girl]

Did he hear her? Was she not loud enough? Did he even care? Was this what he really wanted?

No matter how much she begged and pleaded with her husband, his tongue and lips never stopped lapping and laving at her dripping, tingling sex.

He said I shouldn't cum! He said I shouldn't! But he's making me...He's doing it on purpose!

If she wasn't about to have the biggest clitoral orgasm of her life so far (she'd only cum once before), she'd have called him out for purposefully making her violate his own rule, as if the point of all this was to make the spanking her fault.

But Illu was helpless to the onslaught of sensation that wouldn't stop, and the wave of tingling spread from her clit out towards every nerve in her body. He made her do this. He made her disobedient.

"No! Sir! Please...Please...I..I'm trying....Stop...I can't anymore....No!!" all was lost to Illu, and she arched fully on his shoulders, her small hands grasping his hair, her legs sticking out behind his neck. She leaned back, letting her husband deal with the balancing as she was too busy riding out her spasming sex that leaked a copious amount of sex fluid.

Eventually, she curled back to tremble weakly on his shoulders, her feet dangling weakly as she breathed hard.

What an awful, manipulative man she married. Setting rules that he himself sought to break to get her on his knee.

She could barely form words, hanging onto her husband, already anticipating the thoroughly unjust spanking he was about to give her. Well, he can spank her all he wanted--it was still his fault. She'd heal and much as he could spank.

"You....are....a thorough brute..." she managed to whisper eventually, already preparing to challenge him for the spanking she knew she would get.

 

[HeyYoureThatGuy]

Viktor pulled her away from his mouth, looking up at her.

“You are a thorough brute, SIR. And I didn’t permit you to come on my face.”

He lowered her to his waist, just enough so the bulbous head of his lance rested at the entrance to her channel. As her legs dangling on the sides of his cock, she was dripping her nectar. He let her rest there for the briefest moment before he turned, sat down, and put her over his knee. His cock was trapped under her so that she could feel his pulse.

He rested his hand or her again flawless flesh.

“You disobey your husband and your king. How many?”

 

[faerun_girl]

Illu had to collect herself quickly, even as she was still trembling from her orgasm. Her husband just used his considerable skill in pleasing women to make her orgasm, and now planned to blame her for disobedience.

How was a girl supposed to obey him when he did his best to make her break the rules?! He was a demon incarnate, and she wanted to claw his eyes out just as much as she wanted him to kiss her again.

She felt him manhandle her into pressing the tip of his cock to her slit, and she thought she would almost cum again, the weight of his manhood felt utterly delicious, much to her dismay.

But he was already bending her over his knee, his very large hand already kneading the soft flesh of her bottom, and asking her how many times she wanted to get spanked. Two could play at this game.

She looked back at him, her face still beautifully flushed from her climax, her hair framing her beauty as if he was looking at a painting.

"Thirty." she said with defiance. "Sir."

Then she turned away and had the audacity to swing her legs back and forth as if it would be a walk in the park.

 

[HeyYoureThatGuy]

Viktor smiled, "Thirty it is then. ONE.” He smacked her curved backside with a forceful blow, harder than he had done before. “You used your magic to heal. TWO. Me of my pain. THREE. Undo my hard work. FOUR. On your ass. FIVE. Reattached a man’s arm. SIX. But you couldn’t. SEVEN. Stop yourself from climaxing. EIGHT. I think you wanted this. NINE”

And he continued to abuse her rump with repeated slaps, counting out each one.

 

[faerun_girl]

Illu was curious how hard he would hit her, and she underestimated him. The first strike was so strong she felt the sting all the way to the middle of her back and down her thighs. It seems her husband was wise to her healing powers, and that just made her want to poke his eyes out all the more.

This man brought out the worst in her. A healer who wanted to poke someone's eyes out.

Each time he struck her, she used her magic. Numbing the pain and reducing inflammation, the skin on her sweet bottom reddened and lightened in a steady pattern.

"You made me--ah! Cum! Sir!" she cried out. While she could numb the pain, the sensation his actual strike disconcerted her, and it wasn't as easy as she thought it was to get out of this punishment.

Still, she'd had to heal worse before.

"You're! An awful bastard! Ah! Sir!" she still found her mind blanking from the sensation, as she only numbed the pain the moment he struck to conserve magic. Between her legs, her cunny leaked anew, as each strike brought her great pleasure and threatened to plunge her into subspace.

By the 15th, she was panting hard. Beneath her, she could feel the heat of his massive rod.

 

[HeyYoureThatGuy]

Viktor ignored her pleas and insults... for now. One lesson at a time. He watched her ass spring back into shape as his palm came up. Just after the 15th strike, he noticed the redness wasn’t increasing. She was using her magic now, not when she could have obeyed his command.

He stopped at eighteen, picked her up by her waist, and lifted her to look him in the eye. “You’re using your magic to under my work. Could you have stopped yourself from coming if you’d really wanted to? You will tell me the truth.”

 

[faerun_girl]

Illu was already having trouble ignoring how each strike on her ass made her whole body feel like she was being submerged in warm water, and that her mind was slowly losing that sharp edge that healers always needed to be effective.

Damn him.

Just as she was about to cry out at the eighteenth strike, since she felt that all the way to her clit, she felt her husband pick her up, and she found herself panting hard in his handsome face.

"If....If I used magic to stop it...I wouldn't have felt what you're doing...."she admitted, and then averted her eyes as her blush grew. "If I really wanted to, I wouldn't have felt anything you did, Sir." she murmured, feeling more vulnerable at having to reveal this, than standing before him naked.

 

[HeyYoureThatGuy]

"So you've earned your punishing. You do understand that if you keep healing your ass, I'm going to have to just keep spanking you?"

With that, she was back over his lap, and he began a new, not even counting. He'd not start his actual count until she stopped healing herself.

 

[faerun_girl]

Illu was still defiant for a few moments, mostly because she wanted to tire her Sir out needlessly--but she soon saw that if this man could bring a magical kingdom to its knees, her bottom was the last thing that would tire him out.

"But why did you make me cum when you said you didn't want me to?! I don't understand, Sir!" sh protested, even as tears sprang from her eyes. "You're....you're so mean!"

 

[HeyYoureThatGuy]

"You had a choice. FIVE. If I'm going to trust you— SIX. to lead a kingdom, then— SEVEN. when I give you an order— EIGHT. I expect you— NINE. to follow it— TEN. to the best— ELEVEN. of your abilities. TWELVE. And— THIRTEEN. I know— FOURTEEN. you like this."

 

[faerun_girl]

"You...make it...so hard....to be good..." she began to sob, even as her pussy leaked and leaked onto his naked lap, her bottom now fully red and the pain radiating all the way up to her back, coming in mind-numbing waves.

She was no long trembling--she was shaking, fighting through her anger at her husband, and the stress of hurting one of his soldiers.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry Sir!" she began to whimper in a soft, small voice, wishing the spanking to be over.