All names are fictional and completely made up. I consider this work to be Creative Commons liscenced of by-nc http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/3.0/ I wrote most of this years ago, and recently found it on a thumbdrive. I fixed up (most of) the apocalyptically bad grammer. So here it is, hope you like it.
Story: Children of Dragons
by Dajaska
Chapter 2: Vorenth
“I’ll remind you that if you fuck up, I’ll have you skinned you alive and leave you rotting in the sun,” Ember said, mostly to assuage her own anxiety. Most symbols were placed on the arms or legs, to give these limbs more power. Here she lay on a bench, so that each pin prick could paint the picture on her back... a bigger tattoo for more power needed canvas space, but she was still wary.
“How did you learn the Art outsider?” she asked and braced herself for the answer.
“From a tree,” he said with no hint of humor.
“Figures,“ all his answers sounded like that. Everything about this symbol worker seemed wrong. First, he seemed content with the heat in his long black robes. Second, he had no symbols on his exposed skin. Thirdly, and strangest, he wasn’t even from Vorenth- his accent was off. She knew she was exposing herself to some danger. She knew a miss-worked symbol could remove as much as a good symbol gave. Removing a worthless symbol would be a complete pain, on the other side of the axe, she didn’t have much of a choice.
“I’m almost done,” he said.
“I hope I can ripe a man’s heart out,” she said thinking of a particular bastard.
“Maybe, the prescribed attributes are always there in the symbol of Arhental, but particular aspects tend to display themselves differently,” he said while continuing his work on her back.
“That name sounds familiar.” She couldn’t place where she had heard it.
“Before the Empire was ruled by man, it was ruled for countless generations by Dragon. Arhental bound himself to mankind, and they to him. Foremost of his army were the tattooed warriors, the Vorenth’kal’taurn and he gave them the image of his might to display on their very skin.”
“How do you know this?” she asked.
“The tree taught me,” he said. ”Of course.“
She ignored him as he commented on about the history of the empire and symbol working. He was strange, but he did know his stuff. The word of his markings had quickly spread far and wide. She heard stories of a girl who could see at night like day and a mere boy who could crush a stone in his bare hands. So as much as he made her wary, she was still hopeful he could produce a powerful symbol.
She needed his help. She needed that power. Darkmar, the “great” Red-Hands, had almost become Great-Chieftain, uniting all the clans. Only because he had outside support of course, but that didn’t matter. With all their talk of honor, other chieftains were foremost interested in keeping their heads firmly attached. Ember’s tribe had stayed independent, for now, because Darkmar dumb-hands had wanted her personally. He wanted to make her his fifth wife. He hadn’t even offered her first wife or a warriors bond. The idea enraged her beyond explanation. She would personally like to sever those stupid “red” hands-
“What! What did you just say?” she asked startled out of her thoughts.
“Which part?” he asked far too calmly for her liking.
“The meaning of the six talons?”
“They mean something like strength, speed, armor, submission, vigor, and one that means, fire from the inside, which is rather unpredictable,” he said like he were explaining it to a child.
“Submission? You’re tattooing me with submission! I’m going to kill you,” she said as she started to get up. She had been worried that he would mess up, and create a bad mark. Now this moron admitted to purposely sabotaging her!
“Lie back down,” he said. She was not going to do that. She was going to get up, grab her axe, and divide him into his component parts... but she didn’t.
“What was happening?” she thought.
“Good girl, don’t make any loud noises, and let me finish my work.” And he went on despite her confusion.
The longer he continued, the more afraid she became. All she needed to do was call out for help... but she couldn’t! She had never felt so helpless in all her years.
He got up and moved around the tent. She could hear a consistent grinding sound behind her. “What in the seventeen hells is he doing now!?” She wanted to get up and look around but her athletic frame stayed frustratingly still. She had always depended on her training, becoming one with her body, now she lost her whole prism of life. The one thing she always depended on was useless. Her emotions swayed like a pendulum from terror to rage.
The grinding stopped. “Get up, have your guards to leave us, and then get on the bedroll,” he commanded. She resisted with all her heart but her body moved like a puppet on strings. She moved outside her large yurt, pushing the flaps aside. She always kept a pair of sentries on lookout.
She screamed, “Help me!” but the words came out as only “Leave us.”
“Are you sure?” asked one of her guards. There was no reason for them to be dismissed.
“Yes I’m sure, go get some sleep,” she said. They looked at each other genuinely puzzled. Everyone was still suspicious of the symbol maker, and now she saw, for good-fucking-reason. Unfortunately, they obeyed her commands like good tribesmen. She winced as they walked away.
After they departed, she was moved as a toy of the gods back inside, and she sat on her sleeping pad. He stood in front of her holding her axe. The precious axe that was the symbol of her authority and the greatest tool. She braced herself as he held up it up in two hands.
“You bastard.” she whispered, still restricted from making loud noises. This was it, he was some dishonorable assassin. He was going to kill her. With all her skill in battle she was helpless, he would end her life and she couldn’t stop him.
CRACK! Came the sound of her axe over his knee. Broken in two. She realized the grinding noise had been him preparing an indent in the axe for easier breakage. To ritually break an axe in front of a Vorenth was an unparalleled message; She wanted to tear his neck out with her teeth.
He placed a piece on either side of the bedroll and retrieved a small pouch. He gently removed a red and blue ribbon. “A talakin,” she realized in horror.
“No!” she whimpered as he delicately tied the talakin around her neck. The idea made her squirm, talakin were a ritual device for Vorenth marriage!
“Get on your knees, and put your face down.”
“This can’t be happening,” she thought. This was her worst nightmare, this was marriage of the beast. The broken axe, the ribbon, the sexual position, they formed the lowest form of marriage. It was only used when a tribe was completely defeated in battle. The victors would force the remaining women into lifelong servitude. Even in those cases, only supremely weak cowards chose slavery over death.
“No, please, by the gods don’t do this,” she begged for the first time in her life.
“Quiet, its okay,” he said, which did not soothe her at all.
Marriage of the beast was all too literal, by sacred Vorenth law, at the end of this ritual she would lose all rights. By law she would no longer be a warrior, let alone a chief. She would be technically classified as a beast of burden. She would be his property, and he would be free to sell her or throw her into a cooking pot. She would be a human sow.
She knelt in the proper form, body held low to the ground, the side of her face pressed into the mat... the form of complete submission. She would rather die a thousand times than complete this ritual.
She hated and feared this, but she also felt something worse. Strange energy seemed to flow from her back. The tattoo that bound her to his word seemed to be seeping into her, poisoning her soul. She couldn’t help but began to grow more and more hot. She could feel the symbol pour lust into her loins. When he moved behind her, her sex was wickedly wet with wanting.
As a Vorenth warrior she was hardly clothed at all, but she felt him move to reduce this further. He undid her leather skirt, and her sex became exposed to the night air.
“Please stop... I’ll give you anything,” she whispered as she felt his manhood begin to rub against her.
“You need to understand, you’re mine now,” he said, “Your life of war is over. You shall be bred. You have to accept this.”
“I’ll kill you!” she sobbed, the idea of being bred, being forced to give up her warrior life was a terrible fate. He ignored her and pushed forward.
Her eyes widened and he begin to enter her. She was no virgin, but she had never been taken this way in such a demeaning way. Most of her experiences had been with other women. In each case, even nights spent with her favorite, her Second, Furi, she held the position of complete superiority... never like this. Here she was being penetrated like a submissive bitch.
“Oh by the gods...” she whispered.
It felt... it felt, so good! She was being raped, demeaned, and striped of her honor... but she was also having the best fuck of her life. She knew it was all the doing his symbol on her back, forcing her to love being claimed so.
“Unnnggh,” she moaned. Her sex dripped with lust and she clenched her teeth in rapture as he slid in and out of her.
“Your going to be mine forever,” he said as he continued to thrust into her.
She desperately shook her head and mouthed “No,” but it didn’t stop how good it felt.
“Please Furi, somehow, someway, come and stop him,” she prayed. He wasn’t waiting, and she felt him pick up his pace. She was just as fearful of her new pleasure as his demonic control over her actions.
“Help me!” she thought as he pounded into her over and over. Tears welled in her eyes. Her mind was filled with thoughts of escape. She imagined someone, anyone, coming in and ending this, saving her. She imagined scenarios again and again of the ritual being stopped by a guard, by a cook, by anyone. But no one came, there was only his cock crashing into her being. Despite her inner feelings her voice told a much different story.
“Yesss, ohhh, yesss,” she moaned. Try as she might to resist, the magic of the symbol continued flowing into her, and her body continually betrayed her. She pushed her ass to meet each one of his now savage thrusts. At the apex of each she would moan softly in concert.
“Finish the ritual, complete the vow,” he said, commanding her to fulfill the lawful bond. Her back began to feel even stranger. She felt enchanted tendrils of the symbol reaching into her brain, her soul, and changing her. She knew the ritual, once completed, would not only be enforced by her honor and her vow, but by unbreakable magic itself. It didn’t matter if he had bewitched her to say the words, if she said them... she was doomed. “Don’t make me do this, please.” she said.
“Say it. Make yourself my sexual slave,” he ordered.
She was compelled. She gave the proper respects to the sun and the moon and continued between soft moans, “and such I will be forever marked as your slave-wife. By gods its so good... oh gods... I give up my clan, my axe, my life, oh, oh, my soul to you,” she said as she pushed herself into his invading manhood.
“Yes,” he said tensely, “Continue.”
“Gods! I will be nothing but your animal, your chattel slave. Oh, I submit to you completely, you can forever use me, breed me, and command me as you will! Yesss, I vow to be nothing but a vessel for your seed and your will... fuck...I accept—” she wavered for a moment.
“Stop!“ This was it. She was biting her lip to stop herself from finishing. “I will fight you, I won’t be your godsdamn slave!” The pressure kept building but she mustered all her will. Not one more word.
He grabbed deep into her hair and yanked back. There was no pain, only an intense feeling of being dominated. Pulling her hair was like he had pulled the reins of a horse he owned. That’s how she felt, owned, a bitch submissive to her rider. Images of her future flashed through her mind, her as dutiful slave-wife, begging him for his cum, wanting it to impregnate her. She saw countless nights crying out in ecstasy as he used her pussy for his own desire.. The pleasure burst through her and she couldn’t help herself but scream her delight.
“FUCK! Ohhh! Yess! UGHHH!” she opened her mouth to only expel her moan.. but now the words continued to flow.
“I accept, oh gods, I will accept your seed to seal my submission, for now and forever!” she said, unable to stop herself from finishing the vow. For a few seconds there was only the gushing sound of his cock pounding her wet cut. Then he started to jerk and his grip became tight on her hips.
“The covenant is sealed,” he said as he slammed into her and held her ass tight to him.
“YESSSSSS! OHHH FUCK!!!” she exclaimed as she pressed herself to him, to receive her damnation.
She felt his cock pulse and start spurting streams of cum into her. Pleasure of unfathomable magnitudes exploded in mind, as her body readily accepted his warm seed. Her body was wracked with heavenly spasms and her mind was opened to the truth.
She was so glad for a chance to be his pregnant whore. Even if his gift did not take root this time, she would dutifully allow him to fuck her again and again. Her warrior figure would be gone, breasts would fill with milk, her toned muscles would grow soft, and her hips fill out. Her tummy would grow wider and wider with child. She desperately wanted it, and more so, respected it, for it was the greatest goal she could ever achieve. Part of her believed it had already happened, that his gift poured into her fertile womb, that it already impregnated her.
Her eyes glazed over and she smiled. Not just this time, the cycle would happen again and again... She was now a vessel for his cock and his cum, to raise his children and be his servile mistress... forever. That was her true purpose in life as a woman and it made her warm inside. The restless need to fight was replaced with serene contentment.
She relished this rapture long after he had pulled out. She grinned like an idiot and held her ass high for the minute chance it helped his seed claim her womb.
After awhile, he sat down and pulled her close to him. She let her head fall on his chest. She touched her stomach and hoped life was already growing there.
“I... well,” she started and paused not knowing how to express herself. “You’ve taken me... maybe bred me... bred me as your bitch and turning me into... into...” she said, at a loss for words. She was a just a lowly beast compared to him, and he had given her such a great honor.
“I love you,” she blurted out. “Thank you for fucking me, breeding me, transforming me. I was resistant... forcing me to carry your children... I said... I didn’t know...what I know now... its just... " She pause to straighten out her thoughts as tears welled in her eyes. She had even threatened to kill him, all for giving her such a beautiful life. “To birth your children will be the greatest honor of my life!”
“I know,” he said as he caressed her face. “This is how it was meant to before you were born. Your destiny,” he said as she nodded in agreement. “But right now I need something from you.”
He paused. “I need to mark my symbol on more of your tribeswomen, to turn them to serve me. Get dressed, and bring me your second in command, Furi, so that I can bind her to me.”
“Of course,” she said, it was obvious. “I pledge any of my tribe to you. Any of the women are yours to use, to breed, or kill at your word. I will command any of them to fight and die for you.”
She did as he asked and left the yurt. She tried to act normal, but couldn’t help but nearly run to get Furi. Her Second had fought bravely with Ember for years, and now Ember would sacrifice her at his whim. She would be willing to cut Furi’s throat without blinking. She would, but believed it wouldn’t come to that.
She imagined a better scenario for Furi. She knew Furi would resist at first. She hoped he would rape her until he came into her womb... that he break her resistance, force her to accept his seed and become a bitch at his feet. She knew that once Furi’ womb tasted his cum she would be enslaved forever. She prayed that Furi might be worthy of being his sex slave and servicing his cock.
Ember moaned as a single line of her juices ran down her leg at the thought of giving Furi to him... turning another hardened warrior into his pregnant whore, and in this way indirectly being responsible for giving him even more children. It would be such a great honor for both them.
In her head she thought, “Anything for you... My love, my Master... anything for you.”