Dregan’s arm, slung loose and easy around my shoulders like a favorite coat two sizes too big, went rigid as a fence post hammered into frozen earth the instant my slurred whisper—"Fuck me"—slithered into his ear like a serpent coiling through forbidden fruit.
The lute’s last note still hung in the cavern like a bad smell from a beggar’s unwashed breeches, trembling and refusing to die a dignified death.
Renly’s fingers kept plucking on pure reflex, as if the strings were the only thing anchoring him to sanity. His tune floated light and jaunty, a cheeky counter-melody to the sudden vacuum of breath surrounding the flames.
Every head snapped toward us so fast I swear I heard their necks crack in chorus, the sound sharp as breaking twigs.
I tasted the silence—thick, metallic, spiced with smoke and the sour tang of whatever devil’s piss we’d been passing around—and decided I didn’t want to hear whatever apology or stammer Dregan was loading into his throat like a rusty musket.
I fisted the collar of his grimy tunic, leather, sweat, and smoke braided into the fibers, and yanked him forward.
Our mouths crashed together like two storm-tossed galleons colliding in a midnight squall, teeth scraping in hungry sparks, noses grinding against each other. Our tongues thrust slick and reckless, trading spit in a hot, filthy torrent that tasted of cheap rotgut warmed over hellfire, smoldering pine resin, and the coppery ghost of blood still clinging to his lower lip like a lover’s bite mark.
I swallowed his startled grunt whole before chasing it with my own moan, low and shameless, the vibration rumbling through me like thunder trapped in a bottle.
Somewhere behind my eyelids the cavern spun, a slow, syrupy carousel lit by fire and the wet glint of watching eyes that drank us in like starving men at a feast. I pulled back just far enough to breathe, lips still brushing his, spit shining on his beard like dew on a hedgehog. A glistening thread stretched between us before snapping with a soft, wet pop.
The air between us crackled, humid and electric, thick with the scent of arousal, unwashed bodies, and the faint, earthy musk that clung to every soul in this cavern like a lover’s sweat after a fevered night.
I stood—swayed, really—my knees buckling under the weight of liquor and lust. The world tilted like a ship caught in a riptide, firelight licking over my flushed curves in slow, hungry strokes.
My blouse vanished somewhere in the haze, silk skirt and lace lingerie kicked aside in a damp, crumpled pile, leaving me bare and glistening, every inch of me on display like a feast laid out for starving wolves.
My hips curved soft and wicked, a siren’s lure flaring from the dip of my waist into plush, trembling thighs that caught the flames and threw them back in molten gold. My ass, round and heavy, shifted with every breath, the cleft slick with sweat and the first teasing drip of my own arousal.
My cock jutted proud and shameless, half-hard and bobbing with each drunken sway. The flushed head gleamed slick with a fat bead of pre-cum that caught the firelight like a ruby forged in the heart of a volcano, winking promises of molten release.
The others in the cavern stood breathless, eyes blown wide as if I’d cracked open the gates of some carnal Valhalla.
Without hesitation, I sank to my knees in front of Dregan with the reverence of a supplicant and the coordination of a newborn foal. The stone bit my skin, sharp and real, grounding me just enough to keep the world from tilting into oblivion.
Dregan’s face had gone the color of a ripe tomato left too long in the sun—flustered, glorious, his beard doing nothing to hide the blush crawling down his meaty neck like spilled wine.
I rested my palms on his thighs, feeling the tremor in his muscle under coarse fabric, and let my voice drop to a purr that scraped the bottom of my throat raw.
"Easy there, old man," I murmured, baring my fang in a wicked smirk.
He opened his mouth—probably to protest, to scold me again, to remind me we had an audience of twenty-odd men pretending very hard not to stare. I cut him off with a gentle shush against his flies, my lips brushing the bulge that strained against the fabric before burying my nose deep in his crotch.
The scent hit me like a brick; sweat, smoke, and the darker, earthier note of a man who’d been marching, fighting, and bleeding for days without a proper wash.
It was a filthy, intoxicating cocktail that made my cock twitch and leak beneath me before stiffening to a hardpoint, jutting up against my stomach and smearing a wet streak across my skin, sticky and obscene as a sinner’s confession scrawled in honey.
I let out a soft, whimpery moan, the sound muffled against his trembling bulge like a prayer whispered into a confessional’s grille. His thighs tensed under my hands, the muscle jumping like a spooked horse hearing thunder in a clear sky.
"lad," he rasped, voice rough as gravel, fatherly even now, "this ain’t the place—" I silenced him with a slow, deliberate lick along the seam of his trousers, tongue dragging lewdly over the fabric. I tasted salt crusted like sea spray on a wreck, sweat blooming fresh as morning dew on fevered skin, and the faint, bitter tang of dried cum from some earlier spill.
His words dissolved into a choked groan, hips jerking forward involuntarily like a puppet yanked by unseen strings. The bulge under my mouth swelled thicker, hotter, a volcano rumbling to life beneath woolen ash. I grinned against him, teeth grazing the weave like a fox nipping at the henhouse door.
"Shh, let me worship you properly~"
My fingers fumbled with his belt, the leather worn soft from years of use like a widow’s favorite shawl, the buckle clinking as I tugged it free. The trousers loosened like bonds slipping from a captive’s wrists. I yanked them down just enough to unleash his cock, the heavy length springing out with a thick, meaty thwack against my face, the impact leaving a wet smear of pre-cum across my skin like a brand from a forbidden forge.
I gasped, head jerking back, eyes wide as I took him in—Saints, it was massive, thick as my wrist, veins pulsing like rivers under flushed skin. The head was swollen and glossy, a dark, angry plum slick with pre-cum that caught the firelight and gleamed like sin polished to a mirror’s edge.
The scent came stronger now, unfiltered, a heady mix of something primal that made my mouth water and my bussy clench from the sheer thrill of it all.
I veered my head around his length, craning to meet his eyes. I found him staring down at me, face a mess of shock and lust, beard twitching with every ragged breath like wheat in a tempest.
"Well, fuck me," I breathed, voice high and awed, "dwarf cocks really are huge, huh? I mean gods, just look at this monster."
Dregan barked a laugh, the sound rough and proud, his chest puffing like a rooster. "Ancestors blessed us short folk where it counts, lad," he boasted, voice thick with that fatherly swagger, "thick enough to ruin a pretty thing like you and long enough to make you sing."
I licked my lips, slow and deliberate, before leaning in, tongue flicking out to lap at the slick head like a kitten at cream. The taste exploded across my tongue—salty, bitter perfection.
He shuddered, hands clutching the edge of the boulder he sat on, the stone creaking under his grip. "Easy now," he rumbled, voice steady despite the tremor in his thighs, "savor it, lad. Ain’t every day you get a cock this fine."
I pressed a thick, wet kiss to the side of his shaft, lips smacking loud and obscene, saliva glistening on the veined length as I pulled back.
His hips bucked, a low growl rumbling in his chest. I grinned, eyes mischievous, before fisting his collar again and yanking him down to the floor with me.
He came willingly, a triumphant grin splitting his beard, his eyes glinting like polished steel as he loomed over me, the firelight painting his scars in gold and shadow.
I spread my legs wide, delicate thighs trembling, bussy already slick and twitching. The cool air kissed my exposed hole like a lover’s breath. Dregan didn’t hesitate—he gripped my hips, calloused thumbs digging into soft flesh, and lined up his thick, meaty cock, the head nudging my entrance with a wet, filthy squelch.
One brutal thrust and he was inside me, stretching me wide, the burn delicious and overwhelming. A loud, overbearing gasp tore from my throat as he bottomed out, balls slapping against my ass.
"Fuuuck~" I wailed, voice echoing off the cavern walls, the sound raw and broken.
He moved like a feral beast, hips snapping with a rhythm that shook my bones. Each thrust drove the air from my lungs in lewd little slaps—skin on skin, sweat on sweat, the firelight dancing across our conjoined bodies like a voyeur peeking through the keyholes of paradise.
My cock bounced with every pound, leaking in soft little pats onto my stomach like raindrops on a parched roof, the pre-cum pooling in my navel, warm and sticky
The crew watched, some laughing at my cute little moans—high and breathy as a flute in a bordello—while the others began stroking themselves through their trousers, hands moving like millers grinding forbidden grain.
Dregan grinned down at me, beard dripping sweat onto my chest. "That’s it, lad," he growled, "take it nice and easy."
I clenched around him, deliberate and teasing. His eyes rolled back, a choked groan spilling from his lips.
But I wasn’t done—I wanted control, I wanted to ride him until he begged like a knight humbled before his queen’s throne. Without thinking, I gripped his shoulders, nails digging into muscle, and rolled the both of us in one fluid motion. The world spun as I straddled him, the shift driving him deeper into my bussy with a wet squelch that rang like a bell tolling midnight mass.
Dregan blinked up at me, startled, then grinned wider, hands tightening around my hips like he was claiming a prize.
I pounded myself down on him, hips rolling in a filthy grind that churned the air thick as porridge over a witch’s cauldron.
The crew erupted then, cheers and whistles filling the cavern like a riot in an alehouse. "Ride him, boss!" One of them whooped. "Fuck him silly!" Another shouted, face flushed as he palmed himself through his trousers. "Boss! Boss! Boss!" The chant rose, a scandalous hymn cutting through the din. I leaned back, crossing my arms in a drunken show of triumph as I rode Dregan’s cock like a god.
But then a shadow loomed behind me, massive and silent as a mountain shrugging off its snowy cloak, the air shifting with the weight of it like the prelude to an avalanche.
I glanced back and there he was, Brutus—towering, stoic as an oak rooted in ancient earth, his eyes dark with something dangerous.
I grinned, sloppy and drunk, and slurred, "What? You jealous big guy?"
He didn’t reply, just stepped around in front of me, the firelight catching the bulge in his trousers like a lantern swinging in a gale-lit harbor.
He let his pants drop with a heavy thud. His cock hung low and limp, a monster even soft, thick and veined, balls heavy and full as purses stuffed with a miser’s gold. I licked my lips, leaning forward on Dregan’s chest before pressing a soft, teasing kiss to his balls, the skin warm and musky as the underbelly of the earth itself.
Brutus grunted low before his cock stiffened right before my eyes, rising hard and angry, a glob of pre-cum welling at the slit. I teased him mercilessly, tongue flicking out to lap at the underside, tracing the thick vein before my lips brushed the head in feather-light kisses that made him twitch and pant like some strangled beast.
"Gods, Brutus, look at this absolute monster," I purred, my voice as bratty as a spoiled prince demanding tribute, "bet it’s dying to split me open and make me cry pretty, huh? Come on, big guy, don’t leave your needy little boss waiting."
He wasn’t having it. In an instant, his patience snapped like a twig under the boot of some marauding giant. His massive hands gripped my head, fingers tangling in my hair before shoving his cock straight down my throat. The thick length stretched my jaw like a gate yielding to a battering ram, filling my mouth with heat and musk that bloomed like incense in a temple of vice.
I muffled a whimper, eyes shutting tight as if to block the flood of sensation, tears prickling as he slammed into me. The rhythm was brutal and relentless, his balls slapping my chin with each shift of his hips.
Dregan teased from beneath, his cock still buried in my bussy, hips rolling in time with Brutus’s thrusts. "Greedy little thing aren’t ya? Takin’ two cocks at once," he chuckled, voice rough.
I couldn’t hear him—my brain had turned to mush, soft as overripe fruit pulped underfoot, the only thing on my mind the sex-heavy smell of Brutus’s length ramming down my throat like a plow turning virgin soil.
I arched my back, muffling moans through the mess as saliva dripped down my chin, mixing with pre-cum and tears in a glistening mess.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Freya passed out on the ground, murmuring softly. Her face was slack with exhaustion. Off to the side was Mia, sweet little Mia. Her pussy was leaking and fully exposed, fingers buried deep as roots seeking water, pumping with wet, squelching strokes that sang like a lute strung with sinew. Even then, her face spoke of quiet resignation, a mask carved from marble veined with quiet fire.
The show became a spectacle, the crew placing bets in rough, drunken voices. "Ten crowns on Brutus!" One of them shouted, stroking himself faster. "Nah, Dregan’s got stamina—twenty on the dwarf!" Another countered, his own cock out now, leaking in his fist.
The shouts blurred into a filthy chorus, each wager hotter than the last, and I couldn’t help but wonder, half-dizzy with cock and liquor, which one of us would falter first.
But alas, my charms never failed me. Brutus’s thrusts grew erratic, his grunts deeper, balls tightening as he built his release. "Fuck, I’m gonna cum," he growled, voice low and lethal.
And then it happened. Instead of pouring down my throat, he pulled back slowly, the wet drag of his cock leaving my mouth with a filthy nip, saliva stringing between us.
I gripped his waist, trying to keep him close, but he grabbed my hair, yanking my head back before spurting his thick, violent load across my face. The mess landed hot and sticky, rope after rope painting my cheeks, my lips, my lashes, until I was drenched, cum dripping in thick globs down my chin.
"Brutus, holy shit~" I moaned, the sound broken and slutty before quickly following suit, my cock erupting in a high arc that splattered itself across Dregan’s chest like stars flung from a catapult.
Dregan barked a laugh, knowing he’d won the bet, before gripping higher up my waist and flooding into my bussy with a guttural roar that shook the cavern’s stones. The heat of his cum knocked against my insides, pulse after pulse like war drums fading into victory’s hush.
I pulled off before he could finish, his cock slipping free with a wet schlorp, the last spurts landing on my lower back in hot, filthy streaks.
I pouted, lips glossy with cum, which only made Dregan laugh harder, the sound rich and warm, until I plopped my body back down onto his stomach with a wet slap, cutting off his breath with a wheeze.
The crew cheered, the cavern alive with hoots and hollers while the fire crackled next to us, lightly applauding our debauchery.
And just like that, things were back to normal in their own twisted sort of sense—sweaty, sticky, and reeking faintly of sex. I lay there, panting, cum cooling on my skin as Dregan’s cock softened against my thigh.
My mind drifted, lazy and sated, thoughts swirling like the steam that still clung to the cavern’s walls. Gods, what a mess we were, what a beautiful, filth-ridden mess.
I wiped a glob of cum from my cheek, smearing it across my lips like war paint before licking it clean, savoring the salty tang. The crew settled, some collapsing into drunken snores, others still stroking themselves lazily, the bets long forgotten in the haze of release.
I reached for my clothes, fingers sticky, and tugged them on. The fabric clung heavy to my sweat-slick skin.
Dregan sat up then, hands roaming my thighs before squeezing them softly. I grinned down at him, drunk on the sheer absurdity of it all.
But then it hit me—a deep, gnawing dread in my gut, cold and sharp, slicing through the warm haze like a knife.
The air felt wrong, heavy with panic. The fire’s crackle was suddenly too loud, the shadows too sharp.
Just then, a commotion sounded from behind me, a choked gasp, a body hitting the stone with a dull thud. I whipped around, eyes wide, and saw a man collapsed near the flames. His flask was spilt, dark liquid pooling beneath him.
I grinned, slightly relieve to see that it was just some drunken fool passed out in his own mess.
But then another collapsed, and another, bodies dropping in rapid succession, limbs twitching, mouths foaming. The firelight caught the whites of their eyes as they rolled back.
Oh gods no, I thought, the words screaming in my skull, my stomach lurching with terror. They’ve been poisoned!