Collecting His Dues [Witcher Fanfiction]

“I’m here to see your Lady,” Geralt said, voice low but otherwise respectful. “Of-course sir” her butler said, bowing but crinkling his eyes in distaste at the close proximity of the mutant. “If you will wait here, I shall let my Lady know you are here. You will be summoned when she is willing to meet you.” Geralt was used to the haughtiness of nobles and the distaste of ordinary folk for his kind. It still rankled though. “How long will that take?” he growled, wondering how much time was going to be wasted today waiting on some damned noblewoman. “I do not know sir. As long as My Lady desires,” the butler said disdainfully, leaving Geralt behind to wait in the hall as he wandered off. The Witcher’s eyes narrowed as he saw the man turn away from the main living quarters and head towards the wing of the building that Geralt knew housed the kitchens. He sighed as he settled down to wait. At-least the contract was done. As soon as he settled his business here, he could leave.

The Witcher was on his way to Velen, on Ciri’s trail. He would make contact with Yennefer’s Nilfgaardian agents there, and if he couldn’t pick up her trail, he’d move onto Novigrad and Skellige. As he travelled, he looked in on notice boards at each village and town he passed. With the Nilfgaardian invasion of Temeria, there was plenty of work for Geralt, as communities tried to recover under foreign occupation and Imperial garrisons took over the duties of the displaced Temerian lords. The quest for Ciri would require gold, and for a Witcher hunting monsters was the only reliable way to acquire that.

It was at one such village he had come across the contract he had just wrapped up. A local noblewoman found her farmlands plagued by a monster of some kind, and nobody knew what the creature was. All they knew was that a large portion of her lands had become a death-trap, and all who entered it risked a mysterious fiery death. The corpses the creature left behind were always found burned and charred, while lesser creatures were often reduced to ashes entirely. Soldiers who ventured after it didn’t return either. The Lady Emily, as she was known, was frantic with concern, as the Nilfgaardian garrison washed its hands of the problem and her workers started to whisper that she was cursed. It wouldn’t take much for her to be dispossessed of her property and so she had put up the contract, desperately hoping that some stray adventurer might find a solution to her problems.

Having Geralt of Rivia pass through the village was thus an enormous stroke of luck for Emily. If there was anyone capable of helping her solve the conundrum plaguing her it was the White Wolf. She had certainly seemed delighted and relieved enough when he rode up to her estate, introducing himself and explaining that he had found her contract. He had listened patiently as the slim petite woman described her woes, explaining how she was at her wits end, and desperate. “Not many monsters that wield fire. It’ll be a dangerous business.” Geralt had replied in turn, looking down at the small woman as he outlined the nature of the work and his price. She had agreed without the least bit of haggling however, making the Witcher warrier. Clearly the monster was a serious problem.

Sadly, his instincts were correct as always. Tracking the creature had taken a few days, as Geralt moved carefully, first examining the edge of the zone it occupied and then checking the sites of its attack. It quickly became obvious he was dealing with something large and something powerful. As he ventured closer to the center of the zone the creature occupied, the Witcher found evermore signs of fire damage, with at least a few spots where all the vegetation was reduced entirely to ash. As to the bodies, all were charred beyond recognition. Eventually he came across the soldiers who had set after the monster. Their armor and weapons had melted into unrecognizable goop.

By then it was obvious to Geralt what he was dealing with. A Fire Elemental, though why there was one here he did not know initially. These were not creatures one encountered naturally in the wild. It usually took powerful magic to summon such an entity, and Geralt realized it wouldn’t be enough to simply defeat the monster. Further investigations eventually revealed the source of the trouble. A Place of Power, damaged somehow, perhaps by the soldiers passing through the land or some ignorant peasant. After that, things were straightforward. Blade coated in Elementa oil and armed with powerful bombs that released freezing magic, Geralt had drawn on the malfunctioning place of power, summoning the creature to him.

The fight went exactly as Geralt had expected. Dodging bursts of extremely hot flames, Geralt threw his bombs and cast Aard at the creature, warding himself with the sign of Quen. Eventually he managed to do enough damage to the creature that its hardened armor cracked, allowing the Witcher to roll close to it, tossing one of his last Northern Wind bombs into the gap. When it detonated, the creature collapsed, its magic overwhelmed and dissipating. After that it was a simple matter of repairing the place of power and returning to Lady Emily’s manor, to report that her problem was solved. At some point he’d need to bathe, wash the ash and soot off him, but that could wait for the next tavern on his journey. It was only noon when he reached the manor, and if he could collect his fees quickly, Geralt was sure he could be at the next village before it became too dark to travel.

As he waited in the hall however, that seemed less and less likely. The day lengthened as Geralt let his thoughts wander to Yennefer and Ciri. As noon turned to evening however, he cursed. There was nothing for it, he’d need to make bed in the wild tonight, make his way to the next village the following day. A full day wasted waiting on some damned noble. With the butler nowhere in sight, the Witcher’s patience snapped.

“Witcher!” Emily gasped in shock as he barged into her room. “I did not know you were here!” she explained, eyes wide in surprise. “Your servants are remarkably lax in their duties then. I have been waiting for an audience with your noble self for several hours now” he growled, anger running through him. “I came to let you know your problem has been resolved.” “Truly?” She looked at him, her blue eyes radiating hope. “Yes. It was a fire elemental. Magically summoned by a damaged shrine of ancient power. I’ve fixed it, and as long as nobody else messes around with it, you should be fine” Geralt explained, voice short. “I’ve come to collect the crowns I was promised.”

Her eyes broke away from his and looked to the floor as he spoke. “A-about that W-Witcher. I- I’m afraid…” her low voice trailed off as she continued to look at the ground. Geralt groaned internally. “Let me guess. You don’t have the coin you promised.” She shook her head, “I-I have some… but the creature has done such damage, and the disruptions from the w-war…” Geralt sighed in exasperation. It should have been obvious something was off when she had agreed to his price without a murmur, he thought to himself, as she rummaged through her dresser. As he looked at the small young woman, holding out a small pouch filled with barely a third of what they had agreed on, trembling with anxiety as she couldn’t meet his eyes, he sighed again. “Fine… Guess this will have to do.” He said, taking the pitiful pouch. “Might I at-least get a room for the night? Your butler’s delays have made it too late to travel.”

Lady Emily looked up at the Witcher, face still frightened and concerned, “O-of course. It’s the least I can do to thank you Geralt of Rivia. Please, let my staff know whatever you desire and they shall provide it.” Hands shaking, she rang a small bell at her dressing table, summoning a maid, who led the Witcher into a room close-by. Once there, Geralt turned to the maid, asking that she help him draw a bath. She complied, filling a large tub with hot water once it was prepared. Once she and the other maids left, the Witcher washed up quickly in a vestibule before settling into the tub, body submerged and feet at the far edge of the tub, sighing with relief and closing his eyes. At least he got a hot soak out of this, if nothing else.

“Oh!” the surprised squeak made him open his eyes, snapping him out of the light doze he had fallen into. Emily stood before him, dressed only in a thin nightdress, that barely concealed her lithe figure. Geralt looked at her pretty pale face, “Can I help you with something my lady?” “I did not know you were bathing… I-I wanted to apologize W-Witcher,” she said, near whispering as she looked at his submerged nude figure, eyes raking over his form. “There is no excuse for how I have t-treated you.” “That’s alright, my Lady” Geralt sighed, trying to reassure her. “P-please call me Emily. And I was wondering if I might… might show my gratitude in some other way,” she whispered standing there, blushing furiously. Geralt looked at her expectantly, eyebrows cocked, but her courage seemed to fail her and she simply stood there, seemingly shocked at her own boldness.

“Well… the water’s starting to go cold here Emily. Perhaps you could ask one of your maids to give me a top up?” He said in a soft voice, “Or maybe you’d like to do that yourself?” “I-I can do it” she said, nodding shyly. She stepped around to the vestibule, filling a bucket with hot water from the cistern. Not used to this sort of work however, she failed to notice the rough wood of the bucket catching at her dress as she held it to herself. When she tipped it over to pour, her loose nightdress slipped off her shoulder baring her right breast.

Gasping in surprise she dropped the bucket, water splashing all over her. The wet cloth clung to her figure, accentuating her figure even more. “I’m so s-sorry!” she whispered, blushing deeply at the Witcher’s eyes on her. She turned hurriedly towards the door. “Wait” Geralt called commandingly, voice low but firm, “You don’t have to go.” She turned around hesitantly, facing him.

It was Geralt’s turn to take in her form, as he looked her up and down. She was beautiful he had to admit, as he took her in. Emily meanwhile shivered as his gaze slowly turned predatory, the wolf emerging as it regarded its prey. “Don’t be shy” he said, voice gruff and rumbling, making her tremble at his intimidating presence. “I still need that hot water Emily. Why don’t you leave that dress there and pour some more water?” Emily was intimidated, flushed with embarrassment at her state… but a growing part of her found his commanding tone and her situation extremely alluring. She let the soaked dress slip off, pooling at her feet as she went to add some more water to the tub. She could feel the Witcher’s gaze on her, making her breath catch as she felt a creeping sense of arousal.

This time she managed to add the water without disaster. As she bent over the tub to tip the bucket, she was forced to look away, her shyness overcoming her again as Geralt’s eyes raked over her nude form. She stepped away once he nodded his satisfaction at her, looking at him as her hands covered her crotch, shivering with the alien sensations running through her “You seem cold,” Geralt said, deliberately misunderstanding her shivers. “Why don’t you come join me.” he continued invitingly as he sat up straight against the side of the tub. She started stepping in shyly, settling into the comfortably hot water at the other end of the tub. “Not going to show your gratitude from that far Emily,” The Witcher said as he reached forward, making the water slosh as he grabbed at her arm, turning her around and pulling her into his lap.

“O-oh” she squeaked again, her arousal starting to build as she felt the Witcher’s erection against her back, and his hands wrapped around her waist. “You know… you remind me of a friend of mine” Geralt whispered into her ear, as one hand wandered over her body, stroking her flesh under the water. “Hair like that, you look like Triss Merigold. Dyed I take it?” he continued to whisper conversationally, as one hand crept up towards her small pert breasts, while the other slipped lower, fingers brushing just above her bare pussy, tantalizing her. “S-she was a-advisor to king Foltest… many followed the f-fashions she set. H-how did you know I dyed it?” Emily moaned, heat starting to build within her as the Witcher casually fondled her. “Can see the blonde roots Emily” he replied, lips brushing her neck as he kissed her, making her body tremble at the contact. “She’s got larger tits, though you’re are just as pretty” Geralt continued, taking one nipple between his fingers and pinching, drawing a low groan of pleasure from the redheaded woman in his grasp.

Those moans grew louder as his lower hand slipped further down, gently pressing down on her vulva and fingers rolling over her sensitive flesh. Geralt slowly moved his lips lower as well, biting her naked shoulder as he kneaded her boobs. “W-Witcher…” Emily gasped as his teeth pressed into her sensitive flesh. “I rather think it should be Master tonight… don’t you my pet?” He growled, roughly slipping two fingers into her cunt, making her shudder with arousal. “Y-yes master” she whined as he fingered her, curling his fingers inside her and pressing them against her inner walls as her pleasure mounted. “Tits might be smaller, but you’re as tight as Triss” he whispered, his crude talk heightening Emily’s pleasure.

The Witcher ground his hips against her, sliding his dick against her pussy beneath the water, making her gasp as she felt the size of it. “S-so big” she whispered, one small hand reaching underwater to grasp his rod, hot against her palm even in the water’s heat, while her other hand reached back, tangling into his platinum white locks as her soft supple flesh pressed against his toned body. “M-maaaaster” she whined, her arousal building as he continued manhandling her, plunging his fingers in and out of her quim while he got rougher with her tits, nails digging somewhat into the flesh as he alternated between groping the mounds and rolling her erect nipples between his fingers. As she rose to the edge, the hands at her chest pulled off. Geralt paused for a moment, before his flat palm struck her tit, spanking her with some force, making her wet skin sting. She cried out in pleasure at the sensation, the spank seeming to send an electric shock of pleasure running through her.

“Eager for this aren’t you? But this isn’t what I’d call being grateful is it?” He growled, rising to his feet, hauling her up with him and turning her around so she faced him. So close to her, Geralt towered over the little woman who looked up at him, eyes clouded with lust, shivering as the relatively cool air of the room struck her. “Time to show me just how thankful you are” Geralt said, hands on her shoulder as he pushed her back down to her knees on the tub. She knelt submissively, coming face to face with his cock as the water rose up to her stomach, warming her again. The Witcher grasped her damp red locks, sticking to the back of her neck and shoulders. Gathering them up, he tugged slightly at the hair as he forced her forward towards his dick. “Suck” he commanded, the pain from his hair pulling adding to her pleasure as the scent of his musk washed over her. As soon as Emily’s lips parted, Geralt pulled her forward, thrusting himself into her throat.

GAGKH! GAKGH! GAKGH! She choked, tongue swirling over the rigid piece of meat plunging past her lips. Geralt fucked her face, hands firmly gripping her head as he pistoned in and out of her. He initially kept his pace slow, giving her time to adjust as her tongue slid over his quivering rod, the taste of his precum filling her up causing her arousal to start rising again. Soon however the Wolf picked up his pace, and Emily lost all control as he plundered her pretty face. “Look at you… I wonder where that proud noblewoman from earlier is” he growled at her, as she slobbered over him, her crimson hair a rumpled mess as he roughly gripped it, forcefully guiding her. All she could do was moan as she was orally taken, Geralt demonstrating his dominance over her.

Geralt kept up the furious pace for several minutes, and then desisted. “All right my lady.” his voice slightly contemptuous to reinforce her submission “Show me how a noblewoman behaves with her superiors.” His degrading tone made her blush profusely. Back in control of the action, she eagerly bobbed up and down over his dick, tongue flicking at the head of Geralt’s cock while her hands wrapped around his waist. Geralt groaned slightly in pleasure as she pulled off entirely, licking the underside of his dick as she pressed her face down against his crotch. For a few moments, her lips closed around his balls, tongue eagerly servicing his sack before she returned to his dick, lips closing again around them. This time she let her teeth press gently against his flesh, scraping the hard enamel against his cock. “Gods you’re a talented cocksucker” The Witcher growled, feeling himself twitch as she masterfully sucked him off.

Before he peaked however, he grabbed her hair, pulling her off. He hauled her up, making her squeal with pleasure. “All right Emily, time I took the payment due to me” he said, spinning her around as he stepped out of the tub. Feet firmly planted on the ground, he grasped the petite woman by her hips, hauling her up. “M-Master?” she asked, voice trembling with anticipation as she wrapped her legs around his, arms reaching back to clutch at his shoulders for balance. “Let’s see if you’re exactly as tight as Triss” he whispered seductively into her ear, his cock prodding against her entrance. “I-Its so big” she moaned, biting her lips as she felt him hold her up, casually demonstrating his brute strength and dominance over her. “Y-you’ll split me apart!” “Soft aren’t you? Guessing a pampered princess like you has never had anything other than spoilt little lordlings” he mocked her, his rough hands pressing into her soft, supple flesh. She moaned slightly as if to confirm his point. “Want me to stop Princess?” Geralt asked, giving her a chance to desist as he continued to slide his cock against her quim, the touch setting fire to her body.

Emily’s eyes flared in panic at that. Stop? She didn’t want to stop! She wanted his monstrous dick inside her. “W-what? NO!…” She cried out, then realized she might just be misunderstood. “P-please… don’t stop. I need you to fuck me master” she whined, giving into his grip and submitting completely. Geralt responded by sliding one hand down against her inner thigh, thumb pressing into her clit, while the other slid up to her stomach, his grip subtly loosening. He relaxed then, letting gravity do its job as she collapsed onto his cock, penetrated in a single thrust.

“OOOOOFFFFFUCCK” she wailed at the sharp pain and enormous pleasure of the sudden penetration. She had never felt anything like this before as his enormous girth pushed deep inside her, his gigantic cock in her vagina rendering any resistance futile. He grunted as her tightness enveloped him, Emily’s lust for him making her pussy hungrily clench at the dick invading her.

Emily panted and wailed as the pleasure coursed through her, her legs spread wide as she helplessly tried to grip the Witcher, his masterful grip in firm possession of her lithe body. As she quivered in orgasmic bliss, her body tried to adjust to the massive schlong splitting her apart. Geralt had no intention of giving her that time to adjust however. “Eager little Noblewoman,” He growled into her ear, pressing his lips to her neck and biting down, as he started to bounce her on his dick, his hips thrusting against her flesh as he rutted into her. Emily felt her eyes roll into her head and her tongue loll as his brutal fucking started to overwhelm her. Helpless in his grip, she realized she was about to cum. Emily panted feverishly as the last vestiges of control slipped away from her. As Geralt used her for his pleasure, his effortless domination of her caused her body to finally give out as she began to orgasm. “Oh Goooods” she cried out, arms wrapped around the Witcher, trembling as the pleasure threatened to cause her feeble grip to give.

Geralt had her firmly in hand however, his powerful grip holding her perfectly safe as he plunged in and out of her, rutting into the woman he bounced on his cock. His hand slowly crept up her stomach, gripping her arched tits as the hand at her hip kept her safely in place. As he roughly squeezed her tit, his lower thumb returned to her labia, massaging her lips around as his cock continued to spear into her just below it. The overstimulation from the sensations were soon too much for Emily, and she began to lose consciousness, an orgasm more powerful than anything she had ever felt crashing through her body. Geralt started to groan in pleasure as well as her pussy squeezed his dick like a vice as she came.

Sure enough, the Witcher was soon at his peak as he fucked Emily into orgasmic incoherence. He hilted himself inside her, his cock breaching her cervix as he came, his hot jizz shooting into her body. Emily was long past conscious appreciation of her feelings. She let out a long low moan, her body reacting primally to the sensation of his sperm filling her up, drowning her womb with his essence. It was all too much for her, and as the heat and pleasure overtook her completely, she shut down, collapsing into a light faint as her consciousness slipped away from her.

Geralt pulled himself out of her, and carried her to his bed. Setting her down gently, he looked at the small woman for a few moments, before he got into bed with her. He embraced her, arms wrapping around her as he pulled her backwards against himself, grinding his hips gently against her. Slowly the Lady Emily recovered, descending from her orgasmic heights and returning to reality. A reality of the Witcher’s strong arms around her, his face nuzzling into her neck and one leg possessively thrown over her hips. She snuggled backwards into his grip, letting herself start to doze. “I’ll be gone tomorrow before you wake, but don’t you think this counted as payment for the contract,” Geralt whispered seductively into her ear, one hand gently fondling her breast. “I’ll be back for the money you owe me… and something tells me you still won’t have any on you when I return.”

Emily smiled to herself as she drifted off. The Witcher wasn’t wrong. He might have restored her fortunes by vanquishing the monster, but if he ever returned, she’d make sure that she was as poor as a temple mouse for the Witcher…

Check out the accompanying image posted by [**Zurrium_Art**](https://www.reddit.com/r/rule34/comments/f8jgkb/geralf_and_the_lady_emily_link_to_erotica_in/)

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/f8je44/collecting_his_dues_witcher_fanfiction