by Sain Artwell
Alron grunted in approval. His cock throbbed towards a climax inside Fei’s tight throat. “Very good,” he said. “Now, keep your mouth open. These women will watch and giggle as my seed runs down your chin, and breasts, and if you wish for further humiliation and pleasure, you will keep your position until I tell you to move. Do you understand?”
“Yes…” Sofi’s clit twitched. Her whole body trembled, straining to hold the embarrassingly revealing pose.
A rise of pressure heralded a release, and Alron threw Fei off his cock. He took a step up to loom over the kneeling girl and jerked his climax over her, aiming for the dark tongue lolling out of her mouth.
Webs of pale seed splattered on her ashen skin, dark lips, nipples, wet hair, and tongue. His cum melted in her saliva and the trickles of water, dribbling across Sofi’s flat stomach and down between her thighs, where it entered every nook of her hotly aching cunt. He milked the last droplet against her nose. Sofi whimpered, swallowed, and opened her mouth again.
“Good.” Alron slunk to sit by her side in a lazy lounge.
Fei swam up to them and took the other side. She licked her lips, grinning wickedly at the girl. Fourteen deepkin had now awakened from their stupor and leered at her, a horny twinkle in their oily black eyes.
“Sofi, I want you to tell me something,” Alron said.
It took several long hot breaths before she croaked the word out. “Y-yes?”
“Do you enjoy being treated like a lowly slave?”
“Ah…”
“Look at the girls in the water. They’re watching. Answer to them.”
Sofi grit her teeth, suppressing strange squeals and whimpers. Her voice trembled on the verge of sobs, head bowed to hide her face behind the charcoal bangs. The words were too low for anyone but Alron’s ears to hear.
“Louder. Look them in the eye,” he said.
Whimpering, she managed to look up. Her fists tightened into balls as she spoke, “I… I like it!”
The deepkin snickered, as did Fei.
Alron felt an intoxicating surge in his core, echoed by his dragonsoul. He leaned to Sofi’s ear, whispering, “You enjoy the humiliation?”
“Mm-hm…”
“Shall I make you forget who you are?”
“Yes, please…”
Alron chuckled. “It’s been too long since I’ve had such a pathetic depraved lover, I’d nearly forgotten how I enjoy it. You won’t need your name now. For the rest of the evening, you are a slave again, an object, a nameless piece of flesh to be passed along and used to soak up the filthy spill of our lovemaking. You shall address me as your master, and Fei as your mistress, and obey our every whim. You needn’t bother your head with other thoughts than how to please and serve our pleasure.”
Alron watched the girl unravel, as the ugly knots of her past served as kindling to her perverted desire. Will and drive left her gaze, and all that was left was a primal submissive urge drilled deep into her core by years of whip and abuse. She’d shoved the stack of repressed instincts in a vault, locked it, and tossed the key. Only, such things had a way of rotting into liquid and seeping through the cracks, and trickling into every untended corner of her soul.
Idly, as he admired the girl swaying, her brain buzzing and deep in the zone of servitude, Alron pondered if this was not the first time. He made a note to ask her, later.
“Clean my cum off the floor beneath you. Keep your arms where they are, and use only your tongue,” he said.
Sofi slurred something to the effect of ‘Yes master, Alron’ and got to work.
She wiggled backwards, until the puddle of cum, water, and her own secretions was before her. Eyes fluttering, she knelt down, only to be betrayed by her over-aroused body. The girl slipped face first into the puddle of filth, and whimpered pitifully.
Alron sent a thought to Fei, and she grinned, turning to the audience.
“Look at that,” she said, a mocking laugh lilting her voice. “Useless, isn’t she? What do you do with a slave so feeble-minded that it can’t even clean a floor?”
The deepkin women, now seventeen of them awake, stroked themselves and each other as they watched Sofi. Her legs skidded on the wet stone. She squirmed, dutifully binding her own arms, attempting to rise without aid.
“Hit her,” said the fleshbender, a husky-voiced deepkin with stubby horns.
“Yeah, I’d hit her too.”
“Or punish her some other way.”
“I would make mine stand outside naked and write her crimes on her flesh.”
“She should apologize at the very least.”
The deepkin kept their insults flowing.
Sofi whimpered pathetically. Tears and water ran down her cheeks, as she hurried to place her face in the puddle of cum and lick. Alron left her to the task and moved back into the water, a new idea springing to his mind. He relayed it to Fei, who, after gasping, obeyed and fetched him a clump of fabric from the poolside.
“Can you make it feel like you do?” Fei whispered eagerly.
“Unlikely. Our bond is not yet that firm yet.”
“Aww… When it is, we’re doing this again.”
“Hm.” Alron closed his eyes to rouse his dragonsoul. He flooded dragonizing vis into the clump of cloth, and shaped it with his will. Solid, but not hard, rigid and round, he dragonized the cloth into an L-shaped simulacrum of a cock. The longer end didn’t quite match his shape, but it was close enough to serve its purpose. Alron felt a ghost sensation ripple along the toy when Fei pressed the shorter end in her cunt. The deep crimson toy stood upright between her thighs. She gave it a flick. It wobbled. He felt it.
“We should’ve done this before!” Fei giggled, bursting with excitement.
“Never crossed my mind before.”
“Why did it now?”
Alron shrugged, moving over to where Sofi was crying and licking the floor. He grasped her horn and yanked her to look up. She was a slobbering mess. Pearly fluid trickled down her thighs.
“Did it climax from being bossed around?” Fei asked, snorting incredulously. “Pathetic.”
“Did you?” Alron asked Sofi.
She gasped for air for a few seconds, before answering, “Y-yes…”
“Did you clean it?”
“Yes, master.” Sofi licked her lips. She shuffled to sit on her knees. Alron was hard to the point of pain.
“Good. Good, slave.”
“Do I get a reward, master?” Sofi asked, pausing to breathe between words.
“Yes you do. Yes you do…”
Alron hoisted Sofi by her hips and brought her against his chest, leaning in to bite her neck. Her skin tasted of sweat and the metallic water of the pool. He and Fei guided Sofi to slide onto his cock.
Sofi gasped for air. Her sheath burned hot, and squeezed hard. It clenched suddenly when Fei slowly eased the dragonized appendage into her tight asshole, Sofi could hardly breathe and every muscle in her core clenched, tightening on his cock. Her moans were many and loud, as Alron and Fei began to grind the holes.
Alron found himself moaning, struggling to withstand the assault of pleasure.
He felt a tight ass and two snug cunts at once!
Fei’s pussy twitched around the other end of the dragonized rod. The sensations entwined, pleasure soaring past what should’ve been a peak, as he bred Sofi hard. He peaked harder, impossibly high, and then some, and when the crescendo of flesh finally hit its climax, it erupted in a mind numbing avalanche.
His seed poured out and filled all three holes.
The blur of bliss lasted long. When it eased, Alron found Sofi passed out against his shoulder. Fei had pulled out of her ass. With a dumbfounded expression, she stared at her cum-soaked fingers.
“You… I… Oooooohhhhh! Alron, where was this when we were toying with the deepkin?”
“I could feel it inside her…”
“Stars! We need to start doing this more often.”
“Fret not. Our bond requires more
bonding. We’ll have opportunities. As for now… we follow Mlevanosk’s plan.” He leaned over Sofi and picked up the compass with a scarlet claw.
Alron crushed it in his grip and removed the claw from within. Mlevanosk’s voice whispered from the vestige. Scenes of her life flashed through his head, too fast to leave an impression stronger than a fleeting dream.
Fei moved to assist without a word, presenting one of Sofi’s hands to him. Alron flexed his muscles and drew strength from his heartstrings.
In a lightning quick slash, he severed Sofi’s forefinger at the first joint. She winced, but stayed asleep.
Alron pressed Mlevanosk’s claw against the stump. The vestige, hungry for vis, buried string-thin scarlet tendrils into the girl’s finger. A fingerbone cracked. Sofi whimpered, flinching.
“Fleshbender,” Alron called.
A deepkin woman untangled from an orgy-pile of five deepkin. “Hm? Ahh… You require more of my services. I’m afraid that will cost extra.”
“For a full whistle’s worth of time, I’ll fuck you as savagely as you desire,” Alron offered.
“Healing the seam of vestige and flesh is a complex procedure. It drains my vis, and though I take pride in my art, I am not yet an awakened master.”
“Two whistles, with Fei wielding a dragonized extension of my erection. Final offer, or I shall look for another fleshbender,” Alron added.
The deepkin’s face spread wide with a grin of needle-thin teeth. “Ah. My gratitude. You truly are a great one to pay a humble servant such as I with such generosity.”
She bled her vis-soaked blood into the water, and submerged Sofi’s hand in the stain. Tiny white threads wound themselves into the wound, until the vestige became a seamless extension of the finger. The rest of the enslavement, and mastery of the vestige, was now up to Sofi.
While waiting for her to wake up, Alron and Fei fulfilled their part of the negotiation.
Chapter 13 - The Spinning Skull
Alron had never been to a grandforge before, and never would again if he could help it. The acrid fumes clawed at the inside of Alron’s nose, skull, and lungs. Air itself tasted of salts and metal, and left an oily sheen on his skin. And he hadn’t even entered the building yet!
Through doors wide enough to fit ten wagons abreast, Alron spied a cavernous room choked by smoke. Slaves toiled over lake sized vats of molten metals and rattling machine contraptions of unknown purpose. It was like a small village.
Sofi and another man from Mlevanosk’s Friends were engaged in a heated negotiation with the vice-foreman of this foundry floor of Death Machine Industries.
A patchwork band of warriors followed the discussion closely from the sidelines. Four of them wore those bulky dragonfire powered armors that more than doubled their size and increased their strength tenfold. Behind them towered a cursed creature, which Sofi had called a hollow sentinel.
It moved like a living being, utilizing vestiges and vis for motion to fulfill its masters’ wishes. Such creatures had not existed a hundred years ago. The City was changing with speed never before witnessed in wyrmkin history.
“Please, master Mjernsk,” Sofi pleaded to the vice-foreman, “We’ve come specifically for your forge!”
“How about thirteen and a half blacks for two carts?” asked the other Friend of Mlevanosk, so passionate in his acting that he could’ve made a living as a minstrel. “Have understanding, master Mjernsk. It’ll take over a day to haul this all to another forge.”
Vice-foreman Mjernsk’s thin face tightened from disapproval to a snarl. “I have new guidelines to follow, Jigor. No more scrap from uncertified traders. I wouldn’t purchase your load for three blacks, I wouldn’t take it if you paid me twenty. Now scram. If you’re here blocking the way when the haul comes up from the mines, I’ll have the hollow scrap you.”
Their plan failed, Fei thought.
She maintained a cloak of invisible flames around Alron. He stood atop one of the two scrap-metal wagons, which Mlevanosk’s Friends had arranged for their ploy to enter the grandforge.
“Move!” bellowed the vice-foreman.
Sofi and Jigor were on the verge of panic, hurriedly discussing amendments to their precious plan. The warriors approached to help them move, one way or another. Alron sighed. The plot had been a contrived web of imaginary circumstances, polished to a point where the slightest tilt in fates would cause it spin the wrong direction. It’d been doomed from the start.
Alron, our little dearie is in trouble.
Maintain the veil. Alron dragonized his cloak, took off, swooped down to pick Sofi up, and flew straight into the smoke-filled foundry, leaving behind startled warriors and a botched infiltration plan.
“Which way to the spin-cores?” he asked.
“W-which way?” the bewildered Sofi sputtered. “Jigor was supposed to get us a chance to talk with his contact, once we were inside! Now you ask me where the spin-cores are? Apologies, but… what the heck!”
“Hm.” Alron scanned the bridges and ledges around burning white vats of liquid metal. Most of the labourers wore simple leather aprons and little else. Many had hardened scales around their arms and face. Amongst them, Alron spotted a man with a groomed white ponytail standing on a platform overlooking several vats. Jewels glistened on his neck, glowing tattoos covered his skin, and his poise exuded a sense of authority.
Alron descended several steps behind him, and told Fei to dismiss his veil.
“Greetings.” Alron walked towards the man. “Am I correct to presume that you’re in charge of the operation here?”
The man turned to regard him, arms still folded behind his back, an expression of mild annoyance drawing his face towards a snarl. “Trespasser. You have no idea who I am, do you? One more step, and you shall learn what it is to challenge Urlinsk of Invignar, the awakened master of Flameless Fire, and the foreman of the foundry floors.”
Alron squeezed a surge of power from his vestiges. Before the man could blink, he’d closed the distance, clenched a claw around the awakened master’s throat, and lifted him off the ground.
“I am Alron. I bestow upon you a chance to avoid the experience of having your vestiges torn from your flesh one by one. Trust that this pain is something I am capable of delivering, and enhancing. All I require of you are the instructions to the location of spin-cores of this fortress.” He tightened the grip and allowed soulfire to roll out of his mouth. “Do you understand?”
The man’s eyes squeezed shut as he wheezed for air. He nodded.
“Excellent. I shall now ease my grip upon your neck. Do not disappoint me,” Alron said, easing the pressure.
With ragged gasps, Urlinsk filled his lungs. Alron could feel his pulse quicken, and heard fear quiver the man’s voice when he spoke. “Master Alron, allow me to take you there. I swear—and let Abyssmaw devour me if I break this vow—that I won’t speak of you. I will erase every trace of your visit and behead any witnesses, if you allow me to take you there and live.”
Alron frowned, shaking his head. He spoke slowly to ensure that the frightened man understood. “The best I can offer is a painless departure. Choose.”
“No… No… Please, I beg of you. I’ve only just awakened.” Tears welled in the man’s eyes, and his face twisted into an ugly grimace.
This was no awakened master, but a slug. An inbred oldblood slug unworthy of his power.
Alron began a count down. “Three… Two…”
“No! No. Please! The dynamos are spread throughout the fortress. We have twenty on the eleventh floor, twenty on the twenty-first, twenty on the thirty-first, and a single experimental dynamo on the forty-first. They’re located at the centre of each floor, you won’t miss them. Stairwells marked green take you up.”
“Much obliged.” Alron crushed the man’s neck, and allowed him a swift death. He let the corpse thud on the platform. “Fei, veil us. Let us begin with the forty-first floor.”
Fei’s flames washed over him, blending Alron
back into nothing. He picked a blankly staring Sofi up and took flight, and when he did, a loud horn blared through the foundry, overwhelming even the sound of churning streams of metal and rattling machinery.
It was followed by a magnified voice.
“AN INTRUDER ON THE LOWEST FOUNDRY FLOOR. LABOURERS, CONTINUE WORKING, AND FOLLOW THE ORDERS OF YOUR SUPERVISORS.”
“Ack, why must everything be so loud in this cursed city,” Fei grumbled.
Alron spread his wings, taking off to a steady glide whilst looking for something green. Off to the side, a square door opened with a green circle above it. Five wyrmkin clad in bulky armored suits—the kind powered by hissing pistons—stepped out, armed with mini-cannons and swords. The four-horned white wyrmkin skull of Death Machine Industries was painted on their chests and helmets.
For several seconds, Alron hovered in mid-air and waited for them to move out of the way. They took positions to guard the entrance.
Like a silent whisper of death, Alron descended upon them. His claws tensed into spear-tips. Alron landed quick jabs into the layered plates of blackmetal, denting some, puncturing others. Three fell dead. Two stood.
“Impressive armor,” Alron admitted.
The joints were shielded by interlocking pieces reminiscent of a centipede’s carapace. Even the neck was guarded by a tall rim two inches thick. Red lensed helmets covered their heads, and an additional cap sat atop the first helmet. Not an inch of skin was vulnerable. Steam and smoke blew from pipes behind their necks as they moved to attack.
The warriors drew their blades and hurled towards Alron’s partially invisible form. He could not resist trying out the freshly copied vestige. Alron threw Sofi up in the air, and let the fire flowing through his veins consume and transform his flesh.
Yeeesss! Burn with me! Fei cheered.
Becoming Living Flame was an odd sensation. Strength fled Alron’s limbs, and his breath was sapped. Most senses grew muted, as if drowned by a crackling inferno, whilst a lieu of odd tactile sensations replaced the ones lost.
Alron felt the smoky stuffiness of air around his fiery body, the rough rust of ground, the embrace of Fei’s flames all around him, and the two blackmetal blades as they passed through his intangible mass.
