Waking up next to another warm body was a pleasure that Thome hadn’t experienced in many years. Most of his bed partners had either been hired and were eager to leave as soon as possible, or were battle brothers whom he didn’t want to have next to him other than for their warmth.
Beka’s body was warm and soft. He felt her naked skin against his. He woke up with morningwood and as he tried to shift his position so that it didn’t press uncomfortably against the covers, her hand came down to his crotch. As her fingers curled around his cock, he gasped at the touch.
“Problem?” she asked.
“N-n-no,” he stuttered out.
“Good,” she said, shifting her position so that she was on top of him again. He had the most urgent need to piss, but seeing her naked body in the half-light of the morning, he decided that bodily function could wait.
“You don’t have to,” he said again.
She laughed. “I most certainly do. You have an unending supply of cum and I need as much as I can gather for my potions. This is how you will repay me.”
He wanted to object, but couldn’t find a reason, especially after her warm, wet quim found his hard cock and she eased herself down on him. Rocking her hips back and forth, she got into a position she liked and started working her body on his.
Beka paused when she saw him staring up at her in confusion. “Is there a problem?”
He shook his head. “No…I just wonder why you’re doing this.”
“It’s the most efficient way right now.” She shifted around so that he was fully seated in her. “I’d suck you off or have you jerk off into the jar, but you aren’t strong enough yet.”
Offended, he replied. “I most certainly am!” Grabbing her hips and using his considerable skills acquired in hand-to-hand combat, he flipped her off his body and onto her back, all without pulling his cock free of her quim.
She let out a surprised grunt and pulled her legs up to her chest, hooking her ankles behind his back. “Go ahead. Fuck me, Thome.”
He winced and did as she instructed. He didn’t like being told what to do by anyone but a superior. Thome didn’t want to start thinking of Beka as a superior.
Still, her quim was warm and wet and he was already inside of her.
It was good to be fucking a woman again. Thome railed her with all the need of a young recruit on his first visit to a whorehouse.
Beka made all the right expressions and noises while he railed her. Thome quickly found himself on the brink of exhaustion and climax. He gave himself over to both, cumming in the healer’s quim before collapsing on top of her.
Her hands went up and down his sweaty back. She luxuriated with his muscular body weighing her down and eventually unhooked her legs from behind his body.
Showing surprising strength she rolled him over and moved off the bed.
Thome felt like he had just been through a battle. He was breathing heavily and barely able to move. Sweat covered his body and his limbs were trembling.
“Why am I so weak?” he asked Beka, watching as she moved to the work table where her healing equipment was.
“You were poisoned by the fire drake’s claws. It’s a miracle you survived at all.” She hadn’t bothered to put a robe or cloak or any clothes on. The small house was warm enough from the fire and he admired her shapely ass as she repeated the process with her quim and collecting his spunk from it.
“What are you doing?”
“I already told you: collecting raw ingredients.”
“My cum?”
She returned to the bed and bent over him, giving him a kiss on the forehead. “Yes. Virile men are a rarity around here.”
He stared at her small tits and wanted to reach for them, but he didn’t have the energy.
“Why…why am I so tired?” He closed his eyes and tried to summon up some strength.
“Because I just fucked the shit out of you, because you’ve been poisoned by the fire drake, because you suffered serious injuries,” Beka told him. She pressed a flask to his lips. “Drink this. It will help you heal. It will restore you.”
Thome wanted to resist. He was certain she was corrupting him, but he couldn’t fight her. The sweet liquid poured down his throat and he fell to slumber.
When he awoke later that day, Thome felt re-energized. The room was warm and he knew it was still the middle of the day. Beka was at her table, busily working, but she was wearing clothing now.
Thome realized he was still naked. That only made sense.
He managed to get out of the bed on his own. This time he had no shame of his nudity. If Beka heard him, she didn’t acknowledge his existence in any way. On the small table near the bed she had left a pitcher of water and a pair of wooden cups. He poured himself water, greedily drank it, and repeated the process several times.
Only then did he become aware that he needed to piss.
“Where are my clothes?” he asked her.
Beka’s hands were moving rapidly on the table, grinding some herb. “Why do you need to get dressed?” she asked, not looking up.
“I need to go outside to piss.”
“There’s a chamber pot under the bed.” Her eyes didn’t stray from her work.
Thome wasn’t the least bit shy about pissing in front of other men, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had done so in front of a woman. With a shrug he reached under the bed, found the chamber pot, and proceeded to empty his bladder.
The moment she heard him filling the chamber pot, Beka put down her work and crossed halfway over to him. Thome was half turned away from her, but made no motion to hide himself and what he was doing from her. He took a certain pride in how much he filled the chamber pot, only stopping when the pot was nearly full.
“Do I save it or dump it out the window?” he asked her after shaking off the last few drops.
“Neither. Give it to me.” She took the pot out of his hands and covered it with a lid. “I need it to separate it out later.”
“It’s going to stink up the entire room.”
“It’ll be fine. It’s sealed.”
Thome didn’t see any seal, but he just shrugged. An argument wasn’t going to help him.
“Could I get some clothes at least?” he asked, looking at the chest.
She looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on his cock. “Why? Are you cold?”
He saw where she was looking and twisted his lips. His cock wasn’t huge but in its soft state, neither was it small.
“No. I’d just be more comfortable dressed. You’re dressed.”
She stepped over to him and pressed her body against his. At once he started to stiffen. Thome was convinced she was a witch with a preternatural control over his libido. There were advantages to that, but he didn’t want to be stuck in a cabin fucking a witch the rest of his life. Though there were worse ways to die. While there was honor to die on the battlefield he was sure it was more pleasurable to die in the arms of a woman determined to fuck him to death.
“What if you got to fuck me again?” she asked him. Before Thome could answer, her fingers curled around his cock. For just a second he tried to resist, but his body betrayed him and he started to thicken and rise.
“I can only wear clothes if I fuck you again?” he asked, his voice deep and husky.
She didn’t answer him. Instead, Beka tilted up her face and kissed him.
Her hand brought his cock to full attention.
“You’re a witch,” he murmured into her neck.
“And a healer. Do you want to fuck me or not?”
He didn’t give her a verbal answer. Instead he fell to his knees and lifted the hem of her dress. She allowed him to kiss her thighs and then her belly before leaning back on the edge of the table, spreading her legs for him.
Thome didn’t hesitate to lick her quim and its fat lips. She tasted musky and sweet and salty all at the same time. She moaned as his tongue explored her folds and found her clit.
Then she giggled in pleasure.
“Lick and suck it all you want, but I need your cock.”
Some men in his order would have mocked him for eating a woman’s sex, but there was a certain enjoyment in the act.
Still, he could do what she wanted. Standing up on shaky legs, he took his cock in hand and ran the bulbous purple head along her slit, gathering her amrita on it before abruptly shoving it in her.
Beka gasped in delight and once again wrapped her legs around him.
“You have a wonderful cock,” she complimented him as he began ramming her. She made little gasps with each thrust. “You shouldn’t have been a warrior. You should have worked in a whorehouse.”
Thome didn’t know how to take that unusual compliment. He stayed silent and focused on fucking her.
Beka wasn’t a complicated woman when it came to sex. Thome didn’t need to use some arcane technique or position with her. She just wanted his cock. After just a minute of thrusting, she had her first orgasm.
Thome wondered if she would have been angry with him if he had cum that fast.
“Fuck! Yes!” she cried out. “Fill me up! Use that big cock!”
She leaned back on the table and allowed him to do as he wanted.
What Thome wanted was some sense of control.
Moving quickly, he grabbed her around the hips, pulled her off his large cock, and twirled her around, bending her over the table as he yanked the dress back up, exposing her ass in the process.
She made no motion to stop him. “Just put it back in my quim. Don’t fuck my ass. We can’t waste your seed.”
For a moment Thome wanted nothing more than to use her ass. Some of the men in his order did that with whores—and occasionally each other—so as not to leave behind unwanted children, but Thome had never seen its appeal. He shoved his cock back between her legs. It quickly found her slit and he went back to where he had been before.
From behind he found he could fuck her harder.
Beka grunted with every impact of his body against hers. He looked down to see the shock wave travel through her ass. Her skin was smooth and soft, but even in the dim light of the cabin he could see a blemish on the right cheek. It was a dark mark that didn’t seem to be a bruise or birthmark.
It certainly didn’t stop him from fucking her as hard as he could.
She was loving it and came a second time as he rammed her as hard as he could.
“Fuck me,” she begged. “Fuck me hard!”
“I am!”
“But don’t cum in my quim.”
That almost gave him pause.
“What?”
“Cum on my ass. It’s easier to collect that way.”
Her words made him angry. There was nothing normal about sex with this woman.
Instead of doing what she asked, he instead pulled out, whirled her around, and yanked her dress all the way up before he pumped his hand on his cock a few times. She waited for a second before his seed landed on her chest and tits.
Beka took the load of spunk on her body like it didn’t surprise her. She allowed Thome to fully finish, waiting patiently for him to get every drop of spunk out of his cock.
“Done?” she asked when he stumbled back a step.
“Yeah…”
“Good.” Moving carefully she moved over to her work table, got yet another empty glass jar and collected his leavings.
“How much of that are you going to save?” he asked her as he seated himself on the edge of her bed.
“How much do you have in your balls?”
He chuckled. “An unending supply. Are you going to keep me trapped here forever, fucking you?”
“Maybe,” she allowed as she sealed the jar. “But I have plans.”
He didn’t ask her about her plans. “I was wrong about you.”
“Wrong in what way?” she asked as she pulled her dress back into position after wiping her chest with a rag.
“I thought you were a witch.”
“I am,” she confessed as she moved to the storage chest and opened it, pulling out a set of men’s clothes.
Thome didn’t recognize them.
He shook his head at her as she approached. “No. You’re a whore.”
“Humph. I haven’t been called that in a while. If I am a whore, I should charge you more to fuck me.” She placed the clothes on the bed next to him.
“You have a whore’s tattoo on your ass. I’ve seen the same on whores in Telemere. Did you get tired of the life or did you just run away?”
Her previously amused face abruptly became serious. “You fuck and pay whores but you hate them as well?”
He shook his head. “I don’t hate them. I just observed you were one. Had been one. You’re a witch and healer now.”
She stepped back and hiked up the skirt to her dress, exposing her bare ass. “Does this look like a whore’s tattoo to you?” she asked.
The way she stood now let the firelight clearly illuminate the blemish he had seen previously.
He saw now that she wasn’t sporting a whore’s tattoo. He was well familiar with the design all women working in the red light district of Telemere had to wear. It was a design that was vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place it.
“No. That’s not a whore’s tattoo,” he said slowly.
Beka dropped her dress and turned around to face him. “No. It’s not. It’s the symbol of the Goddess.”
“Which goddess? The Triumvirate Mother?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “No. The Goddess. The Goddess of All.”
Thome shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry. I’m not familiar with her.”
“It doesn’t matter. Most men wouldn’t be interested in worshiping her anyway.”
“I’m sorry for thinking you were a whore.”
“It’s fine. Some of the women in the village here are former whores. Some of them still are whores.”
He blinked. “Oh.”
“I’ll have to introduce you around the village when this snowstorm finally ends.”