Dead men's thrones | Minthara
[ Dark content, descriptions of gore, choking, smut, gender ambiguous reader, after moonrise fight]
[ dark urge Reader ]
In a way, you thought, this scene did look familiar.
The same cold stone walls unburdened by the soft lighting of the candle flames, the same rows of wooden pews lining up from the entrance. Several gods had come and gone long ago, giving a resemblance of a purpose to the cathedral and religious imagery that Ketheric adorned his throne room with.
It was exactly like the first day you took a step here, the first time you really saw her truly desperate, the way they relished in breaking her. Sadistic hearts beating at the sight of a powerful drow woman almost falling to her knees.
There was nothing you wanted to do more than to bathe in their blood at that moment, only then will whatever filth they dragged Minthara into be cleansed.
And yet, when you look at her in this moment, the stone throne does suit her much more than it did for Ketheric.
Adjusting your position on her lap, you took a good look at the very put together women below you. She was whole again. It was you who pulled her over the edge, you who's path was littered with the corpses of both the innocent and the guilty, sacrifices for her sake. Be it innocent tieflings or the chosen of Myrkul.
Wrapping your arms around her neck, you leaned into her even more. Wanting to feel more of her, smell more and taste more.
With a slow drag of your tongue against the side of her neck, you bit down on the spider web tattoo that marked it. And to think you almost gave in to the urge to snap her neck back during your first time together.
Minthara's hand took a hold of the nape of your neck, pushing you further into her as if to encourage you to bite deeper.
She never shied away from your teeth or claws, in fact she seemed delighted. Maybe because she knew even a feral dog will stay loyal to their mistress. Or maybe it was the pleasure she took in disciplining you, getting you to obey and behave, but only to her.
Power and authority suited her, it was in her blood from the moment she was born as a possible matron for the Baerne house. It's so deeply engraved inside her that it might as well be a part of her.
She thinks she is incomplete without it, and so you'd gather all the power in the world at her feet like any loyal dog should.
Pulling away from her neck, you met her crimson eyes with your hunger filled ones. Moving your hips against her thighs, wanting her to touch you, finger you, fuck you, choke you, stab you and even murder you right here and now. To your holes filled brain, every option seemed even more arousing than the last.
You were burning too hot, the primal urge inside you tearing at the seams of your brain and threatening to pour out in a parade of gore and sex.
Maybe she sensed that, she was always exceptionally good at reading people, too good at seeing through you.
The same hand on your nape guided you back to her, anchoring you amidst the raging river of bloodlust just like you anchored her amidst that storm in her brain merely a few weeks ago.
Her delicate lips met yours, slowly giving you a taste of what's to come. She took her time as she kissed you with deep passion, a controlled calm pace to match your hungry desperate one.
Your noises echoed through the empty room, the two of you were the only souls left in the entire tower.
The more she kissed you the quieter these voices became, the calmer the river's stream turned. How expertly she stole the lead from you and made you melt on her lap, how the taste of her lips will be the only thing you'd be able to remember on your deathbed.
Would she be next to you then? Or will her toll come before yours.
You hoped that the thought of death stealing you away from her would fill her with jealousy, that the envy at seeing her favourite pet be taken would be enough to convince her to take your life herself.
A shiver ran up your spine at the idea, heat pooling between your legs as you kept seeking relief with your movement on her lap. If you had no choice but to go out, then parting with this world through her hands was your catharsis.
Her other hand spread your legs on top of her even more, fingers pressing against your lower stomach and slightly pushing your needy insides against each other. Trailing lower and lower at an agonising pace, feather light touches teasing you and toying with you.
It was getting harder to contain yourself, leaking through your clothes and dripping against the stone seat of the throne. Each of your legs were hooked on an armrest to keep you open for her.
Yes, this was definitely a much better use for this throne than whatever Ketheric was doing with it. It was meant for Minthara to sit on as she made a leaking mess out of you, one that'd surely stain it.
Part of you would kill to see the look on his face now, alas corpses weren't known for being very animated.
But maybe if you hadn't killed him so fast, dragging him in front of his own throne as he watched the mad dog and their mistress indulge in various acts of blasphemy.
Tainting the paladin's holy room of prayer and worship.
Your cum and his guts, that was the perfect decoration this room was missing.
Breaking the kiss, Minthara eyed your clothes before looking at you expectantly. Removing yourself from her lap as you stood up, you stripped off everything that might get in her way, completely naked and defenceless as you sat back on her lap.
Her own clothes and leather armour were freshly out of battle, blood covering it and latching onto your skin the more you pressed your naked body to her.
It was intoxicating.
A satisfied smile painted her lips at your obedience. Her hands start feeling up your body, squeezing your thighs, feeling the inside of your hips, teasing the sides below your waist.
She was focused on you, eyes memorising every curve and blemish on your skin.
Reaching your chest, she toyed with your nipples and squeezed, making them even more sensitive the longer she went on.
Arching your back, your hands trembled with each flick and pull. Breath getting heavier as she unravelled you completely with a simple fondling to your chest.
More wetness collected onto the stone below, maybe if she leaned over and bit them you'd actually finish completely untouched.
But her hands retracted, leaving you a panting mess, much to her satisfaction and amusement
She was getting off on this, you knew, nothing got her pussy wetter than her power over you. Nothing made her ache more than having you naked at her mercy while she held the end of the leash to your collar.
Electric pleasure shot through you as you felt her touch between your spread legs, her hand soaking in your mess as it moved against you.
You moved your hips to meet her rhythm, grinding against her hand.
Nothing else mattered in that moment, nothing but the way pure pleasure numbed your brain and quieted your thoughts. Her fingers felt just right as they soothed the fire in your core.
You felt like you never wanted her to stop, even after you become an overstimulated sensitive mumbling mess, even if Bhaal himself came through these doors right now, you wouldn't want her to stop. Gods be damned.
The sound of your obscene moaning filled the room, not a grain of shame in your mind as you let Minthara know how much you enjoyed this.
You were getting closer.
You were getting closer and she is still fully clothed.
You were getting closer and the fresh dead bodies awaited just outside, in the halls.
You were getting closer and there was still a tadpole in your brain, squirming and threatening to burst tentacles through your skull at any given second.
You were getting closer and the shadow curse still loomed outside these walls, threatening to swallow the two of you and marking this throne as your gravestone.
You were getting closer and still can't fucking remember anything besides your own cursed name since the second you awoke on top that damn ship.
Her hand sped up, your vision blurred.
The holes in your brain, who did it, who the fuck did this to you.
Your moans got louder.
You're almost there, pain and pleasure mixing together, intoxicating agony, the white flames from the depths of Stygia itself bubbling through your veins as the burning ice of Cania bled down your throat and spread through your lungs.
Her other hand took a hold of your throat, never stopping her relentless pace.
You're going to cave their skulls in, you're going to peel off their flesh and sew it back on. You'll drown them in a puddle of their own piss and blood, you'll pluck out their eyes and force them to swallow it. You'll stomp out their face until none of their features are recognisable anymore. You'll perform all kinds of vivisections on them as they watch their organs extracted before choking them with their own colon.
There's a burning in your lungs, you're out of air.
Her grip on your throat tightens.
You've never felt greater pleasure before.
With a final stutter to your hips, your orgasm sparks through you like an explosion, tensing every muscle in your body as it sets it on fire, melting your bones and blackening your vision.
Minthara releases your throat.
Her wet fingers press against your lips, after you regain your breath, covered in your own cum.
You lick them clean, tasting yourself mixed with traces of blood.
Guiding you by the nape again, she kisses you softly. Putting you back together after completely tearing you apart, making you whole again in her embrace.
