“Orland, I believe I have not been honest with you. You see, you asked me to spare no details... Yet I have spared many. Perhaps out of embarrassment-- Submission is so disgustingly masculine and for the most part, I like to distance myself from such stereotypes.” He took in a breath.
“But you asked, I imagine out of some kind of morbid curiosity. So I must deliver.”
He cleared his throat. This was to make Orland as miserable as his familiar. That would help him get through this, he hoped.
“Ixtab was... far from gentle, but she started by holding me close to her chest. She held me tight, and let her claws dig into my flesh. As if to say, you belong to me. Then, she pushed me down to my knees, and grabbed me by the hair to shove my mouth to her labia. She commanded me, and I lapped up her milk like a starving kitten.
“Then she pulled me back, with my tongue lolled out and waiting. She slid her full length along it, then grabbed me by the neck and forced me to the floor. Good boy, she called me. Have a little treat. She gave me a lick or two, to get it started... shame that didn’t last.
“Then she took my arm in her mouth, and she began to chew. Now, at first, she didn’t draw blood. That was for later, after she slipped inside of me. She’d bite for every thrust she made...” Breaths drew faster as his heart started to race. “Or squeeze on a mark she’d made... just to let me know I was her toy.” He wiped a small, stray bit of drool from his lip. “To do with as she pleased.”
He cleared his throat again, in a vain attempt to regain his former composure.
“I enjoyed that, perhaps, more than I’m comfortable admitting. From there, it’s what I’ve already told you. Up until the healing process. Where I’d fix myself up with a spell or two and she’d... she’d held me gently, that time. I felt... oddly safe. And warm. I could have stayed there much longer, and I think she wouldn’t have minded that...”
“So, hey, Pepper?” Vyth started from across the fire, crossbow in hand. “Do you think we could have... kind of a private target practice? So we can just talk, without a hundred other people listening in?”
Fifteen was almost a hundred, he thought, as he held out his hand low enough to reach.
“Look, she said mating and the like was only discussed between spouses, and we’ve done and said a lot of things within that category! And also there was kissing that was definitely the romantic kind, even though I vastly prefer the familial kind. No offense, Orland, it’s just I see you as more of a brother than a husband.” Vassa paused. “I am the wife right? Since you started all the sex talk and all?”
Orland, unlike Olive, was a tough sell with anything creative. Impressing him with a story made for children was not going to be nearly as easy and Nadal supposed he knew that when he started trying. That didn’t make it any easier when he wadded up another piece of parchment and threw it into a growing pile of crumpled parchments in the trash can, each covered with another variant of the same first paragraph:
There once was a little dark elf in a noble house, closest to the lava pits. Sometimes, a goddess would come into his dreams and show him the vast freedom of the surface. This would make him very angry in the morning, because he saw no way to become free.
Perhaps it would be easier if he simply drank the ink he planned to write with, he thought as he laid face-down on the floor.
She had nothing else to do, no materials on hand at the moment for arrows, so...
She plopped next to him. “You’re damned lucky that I’m Seelie, you know.” She huffed, pulling Flax out of her shirt and starting up a game of hand wrestling. “And that I’m understanding enough that you’re just overwhelmed.”
