Maria awoke to the sounds of groaning and yelling echoing through the camp, from inside the tent. She had fallen asleep reading the book Odhan had given her, sprawled, undignified, among her piles of sorted artifacts.
At first, she thought she was just hearing the groans and yells of returning captured slaves. But the voices were too deep, and pained, for that to be the case. Maria rushed to the entrance of the tent, not caring that she was wearing nothing but her loincloth, out into the warm night.
In the flickering shadows of the bonfires lit around camp, she saw the returning raiders – many limping along, some being carried, though the majority of them seemed to be fine. Maria could not tell whether those being carried were wounded or dead. She felt her heart drop into the pit of her stomach.
“Odhan?” she yelled, running out into the camp towards the lines of returning men. She could hear someone else yelling his name as well, though she did not know who it was. “ODHAN?!”
Suddenly, she felt herself plucked up bodily, effortlessly, and found herself staring into a pair of mad golden eyes. It was Wael, his face covered in blood – in fact, he was almost entirely covered in blood. Blood-stained bandages were wrapped around his neck and shoulder.
“Wael!” Maria cried. “Gods, what happened?”
Wael’s golden eyes danced with light, flecks catching the flames, looking at her with a flat, pitiless stare. He was silent for a while, merely holding her by her arm, dangling in the air. Then he sighed, and put her down. “We were intercepted on our way to the raid by a force of smallfolk on horseback. Outnumbered us ten to one, easily.”
Maria gasped. The raid hadn’t exactly been large – Maria hadn’t bothered counting, but she thought it must be less than a hundred men – but she still didn’t know of anyone who was capable of mustering that sort of army in these parts. In her village, she had known no kingdom, no empire, that she was a part of – and no one seemed to care very much, either. She knew only of her village, and a few surrounding villages that they traded with. No king bothered to collect taxes from them. “Is Odhan okay?” she asked.
Wael waved dismissively. “Odhan is fine, I am sure. At the very least he is alive. None of us fell in battle.”
Maria remembered how she had felt, earlier, about the men in her village, all dead in her defense, all forgotten. “And…and the men you fought?”
Wael stared at her flatly. “Routed. Many of them are dead. I would say half their number, perhaps. The rest fled.”
Maria thought about that field of dead men, and shivered.
Wael hoisted a pack off his back, and ruffled through it, then tossed some items on the ground in front of her. “I don’t suppose that you have seen any of these, before.”
Maria knelt down to examine what he had thrown on the ground. There was a helmet, oddly wrought from polished steel, much more finely-made than anything Maria had ever seen before, somewhat conical in shape, with a large ridge down the middle of it, and a red feather tucked into the back. There was also a flag, a blue background with three yellow stars above a pair of crossed trumpets. “No,” she whispered.
“Ah, well.” Wael bent to pick the items up and gasped, suddenly, slapping a hand to his neck.
“Stop, stop!” Maria cried, quickly picking up the helmet and the flag. “Let me get them for you! Gods, was your neck cut?”
“Close,” Wael replied, as he tucked the helmet and flag back into his pack. “An inch of difference, and I’d be dead right now. These smallfolk were no fools, they knew what they were doing.” Wael grinned, and Maria took a step back from the madness she saw in his eyes. “A good fight. They died with honor. Come, let us go find Odhan.”
Maria followed behind Wael as he strode to one of the bonfires, hiding behind him. All around her were Dragon-men covered in blood, groaning in pain, faces hid in shadow, flickering fire occasionally revealing a bloody face, or a haggard face. None of them seemed TOO badly injured. And yet….
She couldn’t help but think of the men they had undoubtedly left behind. Screaming, looking up into the sky as their life bled out of them, begging for mercy that wouldn’t come, pleading to live, hands outstretched to a cold gray sky, the last thing they ever saw a field of other dead men-
Maria began to softly weep. “No, no, no,” she whispered, not even knowing what she was saying, really. “No, please.” She hid her face in her hands. “I can’t take it, I can’t see it-”
“Ah, Odhan,” she heard Wael say. “Good fight, yes?”
“HOLD YOUR TONGUE!” she heard a female voice shout in response. Maria raised her head from her hands.
Odhan was standing by the fire, arms crossed, staring into it. He, too, was covered in blood, his armor gone, cloth wound tightly around his chest, already stained completely red, and from beneath his right arm she could see that it was still oozing blood onto the ground. Beside him stood the Dragon-woman from before, who had visited Maria in her tent, still nude except for the long white loincloth, glaring daggers at both Wael and Odhan.
Odhan glanced at Wael and Maria and gave a weak smile. “Ah. Yes, a good fight. Hello there, little one.” He jerked his head towards the Dragon-woman. “This one here is Cadi.” He raised an eyebrow at her, as if he was trying to tell her something. “Perhaps you would like to show Cadi to the baths, or something, so you two can have some conversation-”
“I’ve met her already,” Cadi snapped. “And don’t try to get rid of me, you miserable fool. Show me your wound, right now.”
Odhan ignored her, addressing Wael instead. “So, how are you, Wael? Not too badly wounded?”
“Inches from death, actually.” Wael grinned that mad grin again. “Feels good to fight and win against a challenge, though. Too much simple raiding makes you soft.”
“How can you say that?” Cadi interrupted. “How can either of you be so…uncaring about all this? You nearly died. You may very well still die, if your wound festers.”
Odhan looked into the fire once more and smiled dreamily, his emerald eyes flickering in and out of the light. “To come so close to the end,” he smiled. “The best any of us can hope for is a beautiful death in battle. That was one I would not have felt bad about falling in at all.”
Cadi looked at him, speechless. “I always….forget just how right the priestesses are,” she whispered furiously. “Both of you….all of you…are stupid, death-worshiping MEN.” The last word was delivered with a slap to Odhan’s face, which he responded to with a laugh. “The best you can hope for is DEATH?!” Cadi stamped her foot furiously into the ground. “THAT’S the best you can hope for? What about a family? What about having children and living long enough to see them grow? You men are so in love with death you’d MARRY it if it were a girl.”
“Oh, I don’t know about marriage,” Wael said idly. “I’d definitely fuck death, though.” Odhan tried to hold in his laughter and failed, bending over as pain shot through his body as the laughter wracked his chest.
Cadi’s face grew red, and her eyes went flat with the sort of dangerous stare that normally precedes violence. But when she spoke, she seemed perfectly calm. “Odhan,” she said, very sweetly, “Please let me see your wound. The priestesses teach us healing arts. I would like to dress your wound so that you do not DIE.” She bit off the last word.
“You women are always trying to do this.” Odhan rolled his eyes. “You know very well that the shamans tend to men, and the priestesses tend to women. And yet every time you are in a camp and a man comes back wounded, you’re there trying to heal men before the shamans can.”
“When they’re not, they’re trying to get into the shamans tent,” added Wael.
“I SHOULD at least be in the shamans tent, when they heal you,” Cadi said, and now Maria felt pity for her, for there was a note of desperation in her voice. “I…”
This time, it was Wael who glared at her, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Why? You know that women do not belong there. I would never try to get into your temples, why do you and your damn priestesses always try to worm their way into the shamans business?”
Cadi was speechless for a moment, looking at her hands, struggling for words. Maria could see the tears in her eyes that she quickly tried to hide. “Damn foolish men,” she snarled. “You and your damn lust for death. Fine, let your wounds rot and fester for all I care. Die in your fevered sleep for all I care.” Her words were harsh, but Maria could hear the sadness beneath them, and could see the pain in her face as she briskly walked past them, disappearing into the darkness beyond the reach of the flame’s light.
Odhan sighed and went back to staring into the flame. Maria watched him closely. His face was drawn, haggard, he looked gaunt. She wondered how much blood he had lost. How much Wael had lost, too. How many of them had come close to death, how much of their blood had soaked into the ground.
She stepped out from behind Wael, approaching Odhan. He did not move when she reached out to gingerly touch the bloody bandages on his chest. “I am fine, little one,” he said quietly. “It was just a hard battle, and a hard march back.”
“What happened?”
“An arrow,” Odhan said simply. He raised his right arm, and Maria could see the stump of an arrow shaft sticking out of Odhan’s skin, oozing blood still, lodged solidly in his chest. She marveled that he had been able to march back at all.
Wael whistled. “I saw the arrows they were using. Nasty work. Barbed, and designed to worm their way in after they have lodged.” He looked at Maria with something almost approaching approval. “You smallfolk can make some impressively clever weapons, sometimes.”
“Will the….will the shamans really be able to heal you?” Maria asked quietly. She had never been in war before, but she couldn’t imagine any normal man recovering from that sort of injury.
“I am certain. Our shamans work magic that can bring a man back from the brink of death.” Odhan looked at her appraisingly, one eyebrow raised, smirking slightly, as if he knew something she didn’t. “So you met Cadi already, eh?”
“Y-yes. She is….your future wife?”
Odhan laughed out loud, wincing again, and Maria for a silly moment felt bad about having made him laugh. “Is that what she told you? I don’t doubt that she’d like for that to be true. I…”
At that moment, Odhan went silent, for out of the shadows of the fire, stepping over the bodies of groaning, injured men, came a strange figure. He was a Dragon-man, surely, much taller than most men, but he wore a strange robe, one seemingly put together from various patches of expensive blue silk – possibly just trophies from a raid, Maria realized. He was young, seemingly of an age with Odhan, but where Odhan’s eyes were green, this man’s eyes were a deep, startling blue, also shaped like a cat’s, as Odhan’s were. His hair was long, black and wild, but kept in an intricate braid, so long it nearly touched the ground. He was also more lithe than Odhan was, not as muscular, though still clearly very strong. The most astonishing aspect, however, was that he had a pair of antlers, like a stag’s, growing from the sides of his head, with small bells tied to them, hanging. Maria thought it must have been some elaborate headdress at first, but when she looked closer, she saw that they emerged from his skin. Three young slave-girls attended him, all very slim, all with red hair – Maria found herself wondering if they were triplets. They were nude, except for a red sash tied around their narrow hips.
“Odhan,” said the man, in a raspy, yet commanding voice. “Your wound. Let me see it.”
Odhan obediently lifted his arm, wincing as he did so, and the strange man examined it with long, dexterous fingers, patting the skin around the wound quickly, and sniffing it. Maria quickly surmised that this man must be one of the shaman. “Yes, you most definitely need our healing. Most of the men here will heal normally, but you need it.” He turned to one of the three girls attending him. “Esta, you will help me prepare him for the ritual.” Then he turned, quickly, casting a baleful eye on Maria, who stood close by, clutching Odhan’s arm. “This girl, she is your slave?”
Odhan nodded, and the shaman smoothly bent down to stare closely at Maria’s face. His startling blue eyes filled her entire vision, narrowing, and she yelped as he reached out and tweaked one of her nipples. “Hey!” she shouted, but the shaman was already ignoring her.
“She will do. She will be our focus.” He turned to the other two girls. “Laena, Mika – you will prepare her for the ritual. Take her to the baths.”
“Wait, what? What’s happening?” Maria said, as the two red-headed girls took her by the arm and began leading her away. She struggled against their grip. “Odhan?”
“Don’t worry, little one. Enjoy it.” Odhan’s voice carried to her through the darkness, as he faded from her view, as the two girls led her away to the bath tent.
Maria struggled regardless, for a while, and then, exasperated, resigned herself to her fate. “What are you going to do?” she asked the two girls, but they remained completely silent. Maria could barely see in the dark, having so recently been close to the fire, and she had to rely on the to guide her through the camp to the dim glow of the bath tent.
Inside the bath tent there were a number of Dragon-men resting in the large tub, easing away the pains of the march and their small wounds. Some of them had slave girls sitting in their laps, grinding away, dripping with sweat, pale skin turning pink with pleasure. Maria looked away, blushing, and the soft, gentle moans and whimpers stirred a hunger in her.
Laena and Mika – Maria still did not know which was which – walked her past the bath, towards the back of the tent, where there were small sections, cordoned off by thick hanging furs. They passed through these, revealing a small room with a hide floor, and a few pillows, and some bottles and flasks in the corner.
One of the girls knelt by the bottles and flasks, and began looking through them. “So…uh….which are you?” Maria asked the remaining girl at her arm. “Mika? Or Laena? What’s going on here?”
The girl smiled wanly at her. “I am Laena,” she said softly. And then she took Maria’s face in her hands, and, to Maria’s shock, stood on her tiptoes to kiss her, deeply. Her lips were sweet, delicate, her tongue quick to dart past Maria’s lips. Maria broke the kiss with a gasp.
“Wh-what?” she stammered, as Laena dropped to her knees and began undoing Maria’s loincloth. “Stop that-”
The other girl – Mika – had finished playing with the flasks in the corner of the room, and approached Maria with purpose. While Laena tugged off her loincloth, leaving her nude, Mika threw her arms around Maria in a passionate embrace, and kissed her as well. Maria parted her lips, and widened her eyes as she realized that Mika had been hiding some sort of liquid in her mouth. Startled, Maria swallowed it as it rushed past the other girl’s lips. It was sweet, medicinal tasting, almost. Once it hit her stomach, a pleasant, warm numbness began to spread through her. “What was that?” Maria cried once the kiss was broken.
“Something to help you enjoy the ritual.” Mika smirked. “Even more than you’d normally enjoy it. Lay down.”
“What is the ritual? What do you mean?” Maria asked, as the two gently guided her to lay face down on the hide floor. The numb warmness that had begun in her stomach slowly began to travel through the rest of her body, and when it reached between her legs, started a deep, aching need there, a slowly building tingling. Maria’s breath quickened, and she gasped when one of the girls poured oil on her back.
Their hands traveled up and down her body, massaging the oil into her skin, merciless in how thorough they were. From working on her back, they traveled down slowly, and the oil made Maria’s skin tingle, making her flinch and gasp at their touch. All the while, the hunger, the lust in her continued to grow. Maria gasped again when one of them slid her hands along her ass, massaging the oil into it, and her hips lifted as small, deft hands slipped between her cheeks, sliding down to her thighs, deftly pressing, a small throb of pleasure jolting through her with every small applied pressure. “Oh gods,” she moaned, as their fingers massaged the oil into her pussy lips, and then slipped inside of her, massaging from the inside. Maria could not stop her hips from rocking as their fingers curled inside of her, and clapped her hands to her mouth to stifle a loud moan as she came, her entire body shivering.
And yet the orgasm was not enough, it only made her hunger grow. They flipped her over to massage the oil onto her front, playing with her breasts, slowly teasing and pinching her nipples. Maria felt the heat grow inside her, and she no longer cared, no longer cared that there were men in the other room, and reached her hands down to touch herself. Mika laughed, and pinned her hands down, while Laena continued the massage. “You’re so sensitive,” Mika whispered into her ear, and Maria found her mind slipping into a haze as she kissed her again. Maria knew nothing but that she wanted, wanted, wanted, wanted so badly. She kissed Mika back, and the red-headed girl laughed delightedly as Maria broke free of her grasp and pulled her in, nibbling at her neck, pinching her small, delicate pink nipples.
None of it was enough, though. What she wanted was to feel Odhan’s rough hands on her, feel him slipping inside of her. “This…ritual,” she gasped, while she was still able to form coherent thought. “Will I fuck him? Is that it?”
Laena merely laughed in response. “I think you are ready.”
They helped her to her feet. Maria was wobbling, her tan skin coated in fragrant oil, as they walked back out through the baths. The Dragon-men in the bath grinned at her. There were maybe a dozen, all muscular, all huge, some of them fucking slave girls, and Maria knew they must have all heard her, heard her coming, heard her needy moans. She couldn’t help but look at their cocks, beneath the water, and feel a primal, consuming need. Without realizing it, she had taken a step towards them. She wanted them, she wanted all of them, fucking her, in every possible way, feeling them fill her up –
Mika and Laena laughed and guided her away, out of the baths, and Maria almost had to choke back a sob of disappointment. They led her out of the camp, out of the range of the firelight, walking towards a small torch glowing in the distance, perhaps a few hundred feet from the camp.
“Where…” Maria gasped, barely able to control her legs. The cool breeze was stimulating her oversensitive body, and just the feel of the night air blowing across her pussy was enough to send a throb of pleasure up her spine, enough to increase her already out of control lust.
“The shaman’s tent is too full of injured just now,” Mika whispered in her ear, and even that, even that simple whisper was enough to make Maria gasp as a tingle ran down her spine. “We have a spot prepared for you.”
As they approached the small glow of the torchlight in the darkness, Maria saw a large hide laid down on the grass. The shaman from earlier was sitting on a flat rock, banging a drum, singing in a slow, steady drone that came from deep in his throat. To both his sides were bundles of burning plants, slowly smoldering, letting out a thick, pungent, spicy smell. On the hide, laying on his back, was Odhan. He was nude, his large, muscled figure and tanned skin glistening with oil. The bloody bandages had been removed – now there was only one small patch of gauze on his side, slightly stained with blood. Esta, the other girl that had gone with the shaman to “prepare” Odhan, was riding him, her small hips rolling, face flushed with pleasure. As they walked up, she wailed, body arching as she came, and Maria felt a sharp stab of jealousy ride through her, although it was almost immediately replaced by the hunger she felt for Odhan’s cock.
“Ah, good. The focus is here,” the shaman said, interrupting his throat singing for a moment. “Get her on him.”
“Wait,” Maria said, looking down at Odhan’s body. He was breathing, she was sure, but his eyes were closed, and he was not moving, not reacting to anything at all. “Is he…alright? What’s happening?”
“Silence, slave,” snapped the shaman irritably. “This is all part of the ritual. I know what I’m doing. You damn fool smallfolk and your questions. Do not question or disobey.” With that, the shaman outstretched his arms, looking up to the dazzling array of stars above, and began his throat singing again.
Maria let herself be guided to Odhan’s body by Mika and Laena. She couldn’t even be bothered to worry or wonder anymore what was going on. She needed him, needed his cock inside of her, so badly. She whimpered as she straddled him and his dick poked at the entrance of her pussy, and then moaned as she lowered her hips onto him, feeling him sink deeper and deeper into her, going forther and further, filling her up, so deep, sliding in to the point of a little pain that quickly subsided. “Oh gods, it feels so good,” she moaned, shifting her hips, squeezing down on him.
She felt like she was melting, felt her body going limp, feeling nothing but the gentle rocking of her hips, feeling him shift inside of her, feeling herself squeezing down on his throbbing cock. She almost lost her balance and fell backward, but then Mika – or was it Laena? – was there behind her, straddling Odhan’s legs, supporting Maria from behind. Her small hands snaked around Maria to play with her nipples. Laena – or was it Mika – straddled Odhan’s chest, and pulled Maria’s face forward to kiss her, tongue snaking into her mouth, as a hand slid down her body to play with her clit.
Sandwiched between the two, all thought fled from Maria, all she could think of was the pleasure she felt. Her hips rocked, pressing her clit against Laena’s hand, moans muffled by the other girl’s kisses. Although her eyes were open, she did not see, all the world was the feeling of Odhan’s cock pressing up against her, filling her so completely, and the hands delicately pinching her nipples, sending shivers of pleasure rippling through her body, and the insistent rubbing on her clit. All around them, the spicy smoke whirled, in gusts, flying up into the night sky, disappearing among the stars, and all the while, the shaman continued his long, throaty hum, seemingly not even stopping to breath, and even the vibration from that seemed to add to her pleasure.
Maria felt her hips twitch, felt herself begin to squeeze down on Odhan uncontrollably, and with a long wail she came, her body shaking, collapsing back against Mika, toes curling, convulsing around him, as her mind went blank.
The next thing she knew, she was being lifted off his cock. “W-waiiii aaahhhhhh,” she breathed as an aftershock of pleasure jolted through her as he slid out of her. “W-wait. I….I want his cum. I want to feel it inside me -”
“He will not cum, that is part of the ritual,” Mika said, as she mounted him. She was so small, so delicate, Maria was impressed when she lowered herself onto his cock. How in the world was she taking it all? “This will go on all night. We have to take turns, but you will have every other one.” And then Mika began rolling her hips, her pussy a pretty, swollen pink, stretched wide by Odhan’s cock.
This was not enough for Maria. She was still filled with a deep, undeniable hunger. She knelt up on the hide, hands traveling down her body, to touch herself. Suddenly, however, she felt herself embraced from behind. It was Esta, who bit at her neck as she slipped two fingers into Maria’s pussy. Maria fell forward, yelling with pleasure, ass in the air, as Esta’s fingers moved within her, faster, faster, until her swollen pussy squeezed down and Maria came again. Maria turned around to kiss the girl, pinning her to the ground, biting at her sweet pink nippled, running her hand down to the other girl’s pussy, feeling the heat come from her, feeling her squeeze down on her fingers. But before she could make Esta cum, it was her turn to ride Odhan again, and the three girls, laughing, guided her hips to his cock, hands all over her as she rode him again, pressing down against her stomach to feel him sliding into her, spreading her ass wide to tease her asshole, pinching her nipples, teasing and tasting her clit.
The whole night faded into this, blurring together in Maria’s mind, an endless montage of these three girls, kissing her, kissing them back, endless flashes of their swollen, pink pussies, spreading them apart, tasting them, feeling their tongues on her, being spread apart by them, feeling Odhan’s cock in her as six hands played with her body, the smoke swirling around them, the moon and stars beaming down on them, the shaman always humming, as if in a trance, ignoring them, ignoring their loud moans that must have echoed for miles. Maria came again, and again, her hunger never being sated. She knew there was only one thing that could satisfy her, and that was to feel Odhan’s cum inside her. But he remained passive, unconscious, like a stone, never moving. Maria desperately hungered for him, to feel his hips thrusting into her, to feel him pressing into her. She knew now how Brea had felt that first night. Fingers were not enough, only Odhan’s cock could come close to satisfying her, but without his cum she could not be completely satisfied.
She didn’t know how long this went on, or when she had fallen asleep, utterly exhausted. She knew she had been fucking until the light of dawn, at least. Her dreams were full of sex, as well, dreaming about fucking Odhan, of feeling his cock pressing deep inside of her, of feeling the hot splash of his cum deep inside, of feeling it fill her up so much that it leaked out, dripping down between her legs, running down her thighs, and so in her dreams, at least, Maria was satisfied.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/6bg6wo/ffffffm_taken_by_the_invaders_part_4