Dungeon of Desire

Demon's Tongue lashed out and scragged another bird. Dark blood spattered as the creature fell to the tunnel floor without a cry. Three of the black shapes -- birds in appearance only, lacking eyes, beaks and even feathers -- already lay there, all caught by Xunaxa's chain. More still flitted about, darting in and out to slash with razor-sharp wings and claws.

They were too swift for Arivor's sword and Lurrock's hammer. The warriors had their shields up for protection, with Theayala crouched behind. Xunaxa stood further back, lashing out with Demon's Tongue whenever one of the foul creatures came too close.

It was Arivor who'd sensed the things first. "I smell something foul in the air," he muttered, moments before the swarm appeared. They were in a wide, low cave, and at first they thought their attackers were bats. They moved with the same speed, the same silence.

A cut across Lurrock's bald head told them otherwise. By the time they'd formed themselves into a defensive position they were all bleeding. The slashes weren't deep, but they sapped the strength and slowed their arms.

Xunaxa caught another one, and suddenly the others fled. For a long moment no-one spoke. The only sounds were her own rasping breath and the slowing whirl of her chain. Then there was a scuffle, and Arivor lowered his shield and peered around. "Are they gone?"

It seemed they were. The flitting shapes were nowhere to be seen. Xunaxa was about to heave a sigh of relief when she heard something. Metal on stone. Heavy steps. Heavy enough that she could sense them in the soles of her feet.

"Ogre!" Lurrock growled, and a moment later it appeared. Large, hulking, with its head rising straight out of its shoulders above a bloated torso. Bare except for a tattered rag around its loins. Its legs shook with flab as it approached, but its arms were knotted with muscle, and it carried shield and spear as if it knew how to use them.

It halted -- no, Xunaxa noticed, it was ahe, definitely a he. His small, piggy eyes peered at them in the dim light of the cave. "Fight or fuck?" he wheezed in a surprisingly high voice.

Theayala's voice was smoother. "Boys, I think it's up to you. Xunaxa just did her bit."

"Right." Arivor stepped forward cautiously, shield held before him. Lurrock moved out to the side, hammer twirling in his hand.

"Fight it is then." The ogre didn't sound as if he cared either way. "I'll fuck you all when I'm done." He licked his lips with a thick pink tongue. "If there's enough left to recognise the right holes."

Lurrock gave a low rumble in response. "When we leave this place, we'll nail your limp cock over the entrance to the cave."

Theayala's eyes were wide, shining green in the dim light. She'd barely used her magic, but her nipples were already straining against her robe. "Isn't this wonderful?" she breathed, glancing at Xunaxa.

Xunaxa shook her head. She had confidence in the two warriors, but the ogre was huge. The elf-woman was acting as if the fight was purely for her amusement. "If he wins, I'll let him have you first."

The elf ran an appraising look over the ogre's loincloth. "Ogres can be fun," she murmured, "but it will not come to that."

"I fucking hope not!" Xunaxa's words came out like spit. The mood among the companions had improved, but she still resented the elf's manipulation. And she still needed a fuck, although not from whatever coiled in the ogre's loincloth like a writhing snake.

The men, having approached the creature warily, now stood ready. Arivor made a move, and as the ogre turned to him Lurrock swung his hammer.

Metal thumped on wood as the ogre raised his shield, and a guttural laugh rolled from his lips. "Fight!" he screeched in his high voice, and jabbed his spear at the dwarf.

Xunaxa watched the three of them stalk each other, feinting with their weapons, ducking behind their shields. It was no place for her, she knew, but she was reluctant to be a helpless spectator.

With a glance at Theayala -- the elf-woman was licking her lips, eyes still wide and fingers clawing at her thighs -- she stepped around the fight. With her back to the rock, eyes alert to a spear or stray sword pointing in her direction, she made her way to the tunnel where the ogre had come from.

Ignoring the clashes, thumps, curses and grunts Xunaxa peered ahead. The light from the cavern reached only a few paces into the darkness, and no sound came from the tunnel. Demon's Tongue in hand, moving carefully, she took one step forward, then another.

Far enough.She halted, listening, waiting for her eyes to adjust. There was nothing, beyond the sounds of the fight behind her -- a roar of pain from the ogre, a cry of triumph from Arivor -- but there was something there. She could sense it.

Movement? A sound just beyond the edge of hearing? She couldn't put her finger on it. Demon's Tongue twirled in a tight circle by her side, silent except for a steady swish. Perhaps it was just a malevolent presence, like Arivor had said outside the dungeon. A darkness, waiting.

She was about to turn back, see about joining the fight against the ogre, when her eyes caught movement. Swift blackness against the deeper blackness beyond, but her demon-blood sight gave just enough warning. Demon's Tongue came up in a sudden arc and struck a black bird. Hot blood splashed on her face, but she was already swinging the chain again.

Pain slashed at her cheek, then at the back of her neck. The bird-things were all around, only just visible. She swung Demon's Tongue as fast as she could, feeling it hit, grimacing as it missed. More pain, this time in her fingers, then there was a tearing feeling in her ear as claws sank in and tore.

Her frustration and anger burst from her in a scream. Fear, too, not quite a blind panic as she felt the black forms swirl around her, felt their razor wings graze at her leather jerkin and gloves. Demon's Tongue connected again, and again, and she realised that the bird-things had lost something of their smoothness.

Was it her voice that was causing it? Were they more like bats than she'd thought? She screamed again, throwing out the frustrations of the past few days until the low tunnel rang with the echoes.

A black shape smacked into the rock and fell lifeless to the stone ground. Another flew directly into the path of her chain and vanished in a spray of blood.

She gave another scream, fuelled now by triumph, lashing this way and that and picking the flitting forms out of the air. Hot drops covered her face and hands, and she could feel blood dripping down the links of her chain onto her fingers.

Another scream, despite the rawness in her throat, and the last two birds ended under her chain's onslaught. The tunnel felt suddenly still without them, the air dead and empty, with only the echoes of her screams vanishing into the blackness out of sight.

A grunt behind her reminded her of the other fights. She turned, weary all of a sudden, almost too weary to lift her limbs.

The ogre was on his knees. His shield was a splintered wreck, little more than a few boards still strapped to his arm, and the shaft clutched in his other hand ended in a splintered point. Blood ran from slashes in his hide, on his legs and over his chest. A large bruise coloured the side of his face purple, matched by another on his ribs.

As Xunaxa watched, fighting against the relief that seemed to drain her more than the weariness, Arivor moved to the ogre's side and swung his blade. "By the Sword!" he proclaimed, and the metal seemed to glow as it severed the creatures head from his body. Blood spurted, and the ogre's head thumped to the ground.

Theayala glided forward from the far side of the cavern. "What a victory!" She reached out to stroke both warriors' arms. "Are you unhurt?"

Lurrock grinned at her. His broad chest was heaving, and his shield was scarred, but he seemed none the worse for the fight. "Just getting warmed up." He raised his hammer in a salute to the headless ogre. "Good fight though."

Arivor nodded. There was no smile on his face, and he moved away from the elf's touch. "I think we have Xunaxa to thank." He looked at the tiefling. "Are you alright? I heard you scream."

The look of concern in his eyes clutched at her, squeezed something inside her. She couldn't remember anyone looking at her like that. Not anyone as handsome as the knight, at least. "A few scratches." Her voice sounded breathless in her ears, but that was probably from swinging the chain and screaming. "I think I got all those birds."

*

They made a bivouac a few caverns along. Xunaxa's scratches weren't deep, but they throbbed and she'd lost blood. Lurrock had caught the rim of the ogre's shield on his thigh, and Arivor's eye was swelling up from where the ogre had butted him with his head.

Theayala had a salve to stop the bleeding. After she'd set her wards, she offered to smear it on Xunaxa's cuts, but the tiefling snatched the jar from her fingers. "I'll do it myself." Her anger had lost its immediate edge, but she still felt bitter.

The elf smiled. "Of course." Digging in her pack she produced another jar. "Arivor, this should help your eye. Lurrock, remove your breeches. You are next."

The knight stood still while she dabbed at his face, then stepped away. "Thank you. The dwarf took a worse hit though."

Xunaxa watched as the elf gave that smile again and turned away. Arivor's eyes followed for a moment, then he turned to Xunaxa. "Would you like some help? I saw some scratches that might be difficult for you to reach."

She realised she still had the jar in her hand. Theayala was leading Lurrock to a far corner of the cavern, beyond a pile of rocks. "What? Yes, thanks. I'd appreciate that." For some reason the thought of the knight's fingers on her was welcome, where the idea of being touched by Theayala wasn't.

They retreated to their own corner of the cave and sat. Arivor took the jar from Xunaxa and dipped his fingers in the ointment. "Where does it hurt?"

She reached up and pulled her hair aside. "I think there are some scratches here. And my ears too."

"Hmm." His fingers were warm and gentle. "There might be some venom in these cuts. They're turning dark around the edges."

"Fucking creatures." There wasn't much force behind her words, though. Now that the immediate danger had passed, she was enjoying the knight's touch. The scent of his body -- sweat, leather, mail -- hung close on the air.

Arivor continued to smear the ointment. It felt cool on her cuts and eased the pulsing throbs. For a moment it seemed as if he was about to speak, but a low moan came across the cavern, followed by a rumbling grunt.

"Are they...?" Arivor seemed embarrassed to finish the question. "You know. Like before."

She listened, then nodded. "Sounds like it." She felt her lips curl into a smile that tasted bitter on the inside. "Why don't you join them? I know Theayala at least would enjoy it."

But the knight was shaking his head. "They seem quite happy by themselves."

Xunaxa grunted. She wasn't sure what to say.Did I want him to join them?On some level she realised that she had. The three of them together, leaving her as the outsider. It was the familiar role, the comfortable place to be. Just her and her anger, abandoned by everyone as usual.

But instead Arivor chose to stay here with her. She wasn't alone, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. It was a new feeling, one that she'd never explored.

Arivor's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Xunaxa..." He cleared his throat, then began again. "Tomorrow, when we-- well, you know. I want to apologise now, in case it's too late." He hesitated, then continued. "For the things I said. The names I called you." For a moment it seemed he'd say more, but he fell still.

The silence stretched out between them while she tried to think of something to say. At last she cleared her throat and asked, "Do you still have that flask? The one without water?"

She watched while the knight pulled it from his pack.He has nice hands.The green light made the scar stand out like a white slash. He pulled out the stopper and handed the flask to her. His fingers touched hers for an instant, and it felt like fire.

"Thanks." She took a swig and passed it back. "And thanks for... for what you said." The grin that tugged at her lips this time felt genuine. "I guess tomorrow we'll find out what a real demon is like."

"I can sense it, you know." He glanced at the flask, but didn't drink. "Like those flying things. Like the stink of death, but in my mind." He waved his hand. "I've heard members of my Order talk about it, but this is the first time I've felt it so clearly. I thought it was just... I don't know. Remember outside the cave, when I said I sensed darkness inside?"

She nodded, almost afraid to interrupt. She remembered how she'd scoffed at him.

"I was trying so hard that I believed it. Maybe it was real, the darkness that goblins carry inside them. The threat they pose to the people of Port Mediston. But compared with this..." He trailed off again.

She took the flask from his hand and took another swig. "I'm afraid."

This time, when she handed the flask back to him, he drank. "So am I."

She stared at him. It wasn't that she hadn't thought he was scared. She just never expected him to admit it. Not to her, anyway. "Well, that's fucking reassuring!"

He met her eyes, and he grinned. "We'll both have to hide behind Lurrock."

She found herself grinning back, a real grin, the kind that seemed to sweep away all her worries for a moment. "If Theayala leaves him with enough energy to stand."

He glanced over to where the grunts and moans continued. The smile slipped from his face. "I don't trust her."

"Fuck no." There was perhaps more bitterness in it than she'd meant.

"I suspect she uses... intimacy to bind us together." He shrugged uncomfortably. "Or perhaps bind us to her."

Xunaxa nodded slowly. She'd already suspected, deep down, that Theayala hadn't seduced her purely for pleasure the week before.

Arivor turned back to look at her. "Why have you come? You could still--"

"I could." She sighed. "Perhaps I should." Now it was her turn to look at the direction of the sounds of fucking. "But I suppose I'd rather be afraid with you lot than alive and alone. I've spent most of my life like that."

He reached out and put his hand over hers. She looked up in surprise, then clutched at his fingers.

"What's it like?" He passed her the flask again. "Having demon blood, I mean."

"Besides lonely?" She didn't drink. "I don't know. What's it like not to have demon blood?"

"Fair point."

She was silent, then spoke. "Sometimes I can feel it inside. Something deep and angry, like a fire, a desire to stalk the darkness and kill everyone who ever hurt me." She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. "But is that my demon blood, or resentment at how the world treats me?"

He squeezed her hand but said nothing for a long while. When at last he spoke there was hesitation in his voice. "Earlier, when you screamed at those bird-things... That was a terrifying sound. No-one without demon's blood could have screamed like that."

"So?" She felt an icy fist clutch at her gut. The familiar disappointment, knowing she was about to be rejected again. Spurned, cast aside, simply for being different. For the curse of her ancestor.

He squeezed her hand again. "I don't think anybody else could have defeated those things, not like that. It was the power in your blood that disoriented them, not just the noise." His free hand went up to finger the pendant that he wore around his neck. The Shield and Sword of his Order. "I think your demon blood could be more of an asset than you suppose."

She felt her mouth fall open, and closed it hastily. "What would your Grand Master say?" She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"He's a wise man." The knight grinned. "Wiser than me. He wouldn't have named you a demon in the first place."

"Fuck this!" She turned to him, leaning in close. The urge to feel him was strong. "If this is going to be our last night, how about I repay my debt to you?"

"Debt?" He looked startled.

"Don't play coy, knight." She let her tongue slither out half its length before drawing it back. "And don't tell me you don't want this."

He grunted as her hand slipped between his legs. She could feel his cock, pleasingly hard already through the leather of his breeches. "Take them off," she whispered, rubbing. "They look nice on you, but now they're in the way."

Whatever doubts the knight had, he was quick to clamber onto his knees and pull down his breeches. His cock caught on the material, then swung free to point upwards. The head was swollen and gleaming in the dim light.

Xunaxa let her tongue slither out to caress it. She leaned on her hands, her eyes fixed on Arivor. His gaze flicked from her face to her tongue and back. He was holding his breath, she realised, anxiously waiting for what was to come.He's been thinking about this since before we entered the caverns.The thought was exciting all by itself.

She circled his shaft with her tongue, forming a ring and running it round and round the base of his head. A soft whimper escaped from his mouth. He seemed torn between wanting to close his eyes and lie back and the need to keep watching, to follow every movement she made.

More and more of her tongue slid from her throat, to wind its way along his shaft. When it was all the way down, she opened her lips wide, as wide as she could. Still fixing her gaze on Arivor, she leaned forward and engulfed his head.

It pressed against the roof of her mouth. He was quivering, though she couldn't tell whether it was from trying to hold back or from anticipation at what was to come. His hands were clenched by his sides, skin white so the scar stood out like a slash.

Slowly she unwound more of her tongue. It slid around and along his shaft until the tip reached his scrotum. She toyed with it for a moment, relishing his gasps and quivers, but she wanted more. Further her tongue went, slipping between his legs until she found his hole.

She gave it a light flick, then another. His gasps turned to moans and he sagged a little lower, legs spread and knees up. He'd given up the fight to keep his eyes open and his head rested against the stone behind him.

It was almost time to put him out of his ecstasy. She probed a little further with her tongue until the tip penetrated the ring of his arse. In and out, in and out, the length of her tongue squeezing his shaft rhythmically, and then she began to suck.

It took only a moment. She could sense when he reached the point of no return. His head swelled up further, he fidgeted and shifted, his breath choked. She squeezed him with her tongue, not allowing him to release, forcing him to keep it inside until he was clutching at the stone floor, banging his fists, scrabbling with his feet.

Then she relaxed her stranglehold and felt him explode, felt his seed surge up his shaft and into her mouth, and she milked him while she probed at his arse with her tip, listening to his moans turn to grunts and groans, feeling his body spasm again and again each time he spurted, less each time until he was gasping and shivering and his body finally relaxed onto the stone.

Gently she withdrew her tongue, caressing his full length as it glided up his shaft. His eyes opened again as she finally pulled away from his softening head, gave it a last kiss and licked her lips.

"Did you enjoy that as much as I did?" Usually it was a trite question, but she realised shehadenjoyed it. More than when she'd pleased Theayala. It had aroused her, and she knew her arousal was probably leaking from between her folds.