Mara, at Death’s Doorstep [M/F]

Marasillia pah d’Entalis had been scouting the hideout for a tenday before she decided to act. A single brute guarded the door that had seen no fewer than five of the city’s most-wanted felons come and go. Claiming any one of their heads would have paid her expenses for a full year, but doing so certainly would have spooked the rest and sent them to ground.

No, she wanted them all at once. She had to be patient, but ready.

There. The guard rotated out–one thug for another outside a nondescript, back-alley door. She’d never risked being close enough to hear them talk, so she’d given them names in her head to help keep them straight. Ludo, Spot, Cornelius, Porgy. This one–Goldy–was a hulking beast of a dragonborn, seemingly far more dragon than man. He took up his position near the door and leaned back, folding arms that were each as thick around as Mara’s waist. The next shift wouldn’t be out for three hours, down to the minute. That was her window of opportunity, and she’d be damned to Avernus if she squandered it now.

She snuck down from her high perch, moving fluidly down the side of the house, hand-over-hand down a drain spout and into a nearby alley. Looking left and right to check for privacy, she flipped out a small hand mirror, and began applying just the right amount of makeup to sell her image. That done, she took _particular_ care to apply a sealant over her lips before applying another, somewhat less innocent compound. She took out a vial of clear fluid and swallowed it in one gulp. The antitoxin probably wasn’t necessary with her training, but an ounce of prevention, and all that. She checked the rest of her ensemble to make sure none of her gear would jangle loose in the next few minutes, and then left her cover.

Passing through the city streets was easy enough. She turned more than a few heads with her revealing clothes and the graceful lilt of her step, but she ignored those, along with the catcalls from the more boorish folk who had started the day’s drinking several hours early. The air smelled like dust and people, but it was a fresher scent than the alley had been, so she enjoyed the brief respite.

Too soon, she found herself at the periphery of her goal. Doing her best to look a little nervous, she glanced down the darkened alleyway where she knew the guard lounged, just out of sight, before stepping into the cool shadows between the buildings, tucking her soft, silvery hair behind her nubby devil’s horns.

The door and its guard were around a sharp bend in the alley, out of sight of the main thoroughfares and thus well suited for clandestine meetings of all sorts. Mara had seen more than a few members of the Guild of Carnal Delights come by, and had gotten a feel for what each guard liked, of those who participated, at any rate. Goldy here was probably the least picky of the lot, an observation that she hoped to turn to her utter advantage shortly.

He looked up when she entered his field of vision, of course–the guards might have their vices, but they were still good at their jobs. “Whatcha want here, little daemoness?” He gave her a little smile and looked her up and down with no hint of subtlety, fixing on her counterfeit guild medallion for a moment.

She shrugged off the slur and put on her best coy smile instead. “Well, I suppose that depends on you, big guy,” she said, her voice husky and teasing. “If you’ve got the coin, why, I’m sure there’s all _sorts_ of things we could find to do together.” She put a carefully manicured hand on her hip and pushed it out to the side, letting him get as long a look as he needed.

The effect was immediate, however. He grin stretched his scarred face wide. He reached down to his belt and jingled a pouch tied here. “Yeah,” he said, “I think we can figure something out.”

Taking that as an invitation, Mara stepped forward, slowly sashaying her way towards him, letting her thin, whiplike tail snake out behind her in gentle back-and-forth motions. Her dress was a densely woven linen, slit along the sides up to her thigh, as much a matter of practicality as a fashion statement, and it flowed in the air where it didn’t hug her curves. She stopped in front of him, looking up into his slitted, draconic eyes even as she put her hands on his chest. She barely came up to his chin, horns notwithstanding, and she played up that diminutive angle for his benefit.

“So,” she said, her voice quiet, forcing him to lean in a bit further, “what do you want to do to little ol’ me?” The ghost of a smile played at her lips as one of her hands slid down the front of his jerkin, slid down over his belt and his breches, and came to rest cupping the firm bulge swiftly building inside.

The guard gave her a vicious smile and put his hand on the top of her head, pushing her down. Mara went to her knees, happy to no longer be straining her neck to look up at him, and began undoing his belt and breeches. It took a few extra fumbling seconds because of how tightly it had been secured, but eventually, she pulled his pants loose and freed his cock.

No, his _cocks_.

She’d heard that some of his kind had more than one, depending on their ancestry, but she’d never seen it in person. And yet, here before her, throbbing in time with his heartbeat, two cocks, stacked one atop the other, waited for her attention. Far more bestial than the more human-like races, they were colored a deep red and shiny with some sort of natural lubrication, pointed at their tips, with great, bulbous mounds of flesh at their bases that would tie them to their mates for minutes, sometimes nearly an hour. Each was thick enough that she could barely wrap her fingers around, and for a moment, she nearly balked at her plan. She was too far in now, however, and she pushed forward.

Stroking one, then the other with her hands, Mara worked each one out of time with the other–pushing on one while pulling on the other, twisting her hand gently with each stroke, swirling from the base, to the tip, and back. Above her, the guard groaned, and she smiled as she leaned in, licking the tip of each cock with her pointed, purple tongue, painting circles around each with slow, gentle pressure.

He tasted stale, but only momentarily as she licked him clean. Keeping her hand going on the lower, she brought her lips to the upper cock and pushed her head onto him, sliding down the length of his shaft while keeping a firm pressure with her lips, coating its entire length in her spit and her contact poison. Talented as she was, there simply wasn’t a way to maneuver his entire cock into her mouth and throat, not with him at full hardness like this, so she did the best she could to cover with her hands the part that her mouth couldn’t.

Back and forth, top and bottom, she fellated the guard, one cock at a time. She tried both, briefly, but his girth was far too much, and the best she could do was to put both tips inside and suck on them gently, which sent him groaning again.

Her jaw was swiftly growing sore, however, as she waited for the poison to take effect, and she wondered if she’d underdosed or had simply spread it too thin, but when he roughly grabbed her by the shoulders, she knew she had him.

She looked up into his dilated pupils and noted the deep flush of his cheeks visible even through his golden scales.

“Need… now…” he said, barely able to form a thought as he roughly handled her, pulling her up onto her feet while also trying to push her against a nearby crate. He gave a low, guttural sound as he grabbed the back of her slitted dress in one hand and began fumbling between her legs. That she wore no undergarments didn’t seem to register as unusual, and he moved into position behind her with indelicate speed.

He pushed against her blindly, and his cocks glanced off at entirely the wrong angle, pushing up and past her cheeks. She felt a wetness in their wake, figuring it for more of his natural lubrication, but perhaps he was already dribbling precum. Mara tried to make herself as comfortable as she could on the hard, wooden crate, but she had only a heartbeat to adjust herself before he reared back and pushed against her again. This time, he was too low, and the glancing blow off her vulva startled her with a brief shock of pain.

“Here…” she said in a low, breathy voice. She reached back, grasped both cocks with a skillful hand and guided each to their own hole. Each slimy, wet tip entered her in different ways, owing to the angle and nature of each orifice, but she didn’t have to fake her moan when the guard bucked his hips forward, pushing each sizable member deep inside of her with a single motion.

Even if this was just a means to an end, Mara figured that there was no reason she couldn’t enjoy the ride too, and she sought a way to ride the storm that was coming. His motions were erratic and forceful, the poison coursing through his veins compelling him to rut her as hard and as fast as he could, to empty himself in bliss and then do it again and again if he could. Her previous victims had fucked her raw and themselves to unconsciousness, so she settled in for a long and wild ride.

He thrust into her with abandon, the crate underneath rocking up onto its edge with each forceful push before slamming back down onto the ground with a dull thunk. Mara gritted her teeth as he drove her hips into the crate, doing her best to focus on the pleasure his cocks were giving her rather than what the pain was taking away. From behind, he could drive his upper cock into her ass entirely, but his bottom cock wasn’t in as deep due to the angle, but he didn’t seem to mind. His knots acted as hard stops in either case, as the already swollen flesh had seemingly grown more with the effects of the poisonous aphrodisiac.

Or rather, they should have acted as hard stops, but his need to fill her compelled him. His breathing grew ragged and his motions far more desperate, but just as Mara thought she’d be split in half against this damned crate, he wrapped his sizable hands around her waist and began using that as leverage to thrust into her, pulling her much smaller body against him as he pushed forward, sparing her the hard-edged frame of the box.

Each thrust was accompanied by something that might have been a grunt or a cry of lust, or simply some primal sound that had no name, but she felt him grow and swell inside her, and knew that he was just on the cusp of his first orgasm. Free of the crate, she had a hand working between her legs and circling her clit with firm, side-to-side motions, riding the high of the encounter as much as he was, looking for her own climax to help ride out the encounter.

The guard gave a strained cry and _pulled_ on her, shoving himself into her with an implacable, undeniable force. Mara felt a sharp shock, more surprise than pain, as his knot suddenly forced its way into her ass. He did something then, angling her body downwards or backwards–Mara wasn’t really sure which or what in the moment–but an instant later, his lower cock knotted her as well, pushing past her swollen lips and lodging just inside behind her pubic bone.

With her fingers on her clit, her own orgasm wasn’t forced at all, and she shuddered and cried out as waves of pleasure seized her body, making her legs tremble and grow weak while she felt him shuddering behind her and inside her, the warmth of his seed flooding her insides with every pulse of his oversized cocks. His hands gripped her waist painfully–he must still be riding the main part of his climax–and she savored even that pain in the midst of her pleasure, knowing that there’d be more to come before he’d get exhausted enough to pass out.

Panting and still weak, Mara put her hands against the crate and waited. Dragonborn and their knots meant that she’d have some time before they’d be fucking again, so as the seconds passed into minutes, she didn’t question why he stayed within her, pulsing all the while. But as the minutes continued, and his grip didn’t abate, she began to wonder, and then worry. A pressure was building inside her–both in her pussy where she could feel herself growing full, and in her abdomen where his other cock was _still_ flooding her with his seed. This wasn’t right. He should have stopped and simply been locked inside her by now. Was this some oddity of having poisoned two cocks? Or was it just this particular guard?

She dared a look up at partner, but if he noticed, he didn’t show it. He had a dull, glazed look to his eyes and a dopey grin on his face. Wherever the poison had taken him, it was far, far away from here, and all that was left was a vessel given into pleasure.

Mara tried to pull away, gently at first, but while his hands didn’t flex and keep her in place, his knots surely did. She began to pull harder then, trying to dislodge them from within her, but as elastic as she had been on their entry, she seemed to be quite stuck now, and she fought down a moment of panic that slipped across her heart.

Her lower abdomen felt tight, no doubt because his semen continued to push its way into her, but had no way out past the knots. The pressure in her gut seemed manageable–no doubt there was more room there–but her pussy felt full, bloated, and she pictured all that seed flowing into her womb, even if she had no idea what was happening there.

No longer trying to be subtle about it, she pulled and twisted, first with just her hands, then with her feet, pushing against his legs as best as she could. She caught a good angle, strained, and with a lurch and a liquid popping sound, she freed herself from him, stumbling away as she sought to regain her balance.

Cum leaked down her legs and from her pussy in long, milky rivulets. She put her hand on her belly and felt a fullness there from the absurd amount he had pumped into her.

The guard seemed in no better position than before, and indeed, now without the vessel to fill, he seemed to be teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, even as his cocks continued to squirt aimlessly onto the stony ground. He staggered back against the wall and slid down, not at all aware of his surroundings as he closed his eyes, his head flopping to the side.

Mara reached down, carefully avoiding his still-spurting cocks, and withdrew the coins from his pouch. The money was trivial, and she’d gotten off from it, at least, but she glanced down at the mess she’d made of her and considered it fair pay.

Smirking at the unconscious guard, she cleaned herself up and prepared to head inside. No telling what else awaited her beyond the door, and she had to be ready.

For whatever awaited her.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qlg9c8/mara_at_deaths_doorstep_mf