by Randi Darren
Vince looked up at Al and gave him a pleasant smile.
Feeding and caring for four people, paying out his fee, and the contract completion all in the same month.
An expense line that heavy would get the main Ranger guild’s attention. There was no doubt that Al would be getting a visit from an account manager after his finances were reported up for the month.
Al’s skin had a faint sheen to it and had taken on the color of parchment.
Should have probably tried talking to me first rather than attempting to bully me, you fuckwit.
“Fine. I’d like you on patrol on the border between the two kingdoms. I expect to see your patrol route on my desk tomorrow morning,” Al ground out between his teeth.
“Then I shall be on patrol on the border. Per the charter, I’m allowed to requisition anything I think I’ll need during my mission,” Vince said easily, already going through a mental checklist of the things he’d be taking with him.
“I’ll requisition the appropriate supplies tomorrow morning before I depart. Should they be lost or damaged, you’ll of course be responsible for them, as you’re my employer. I’ll be sure to earmark every item accordingly.”
Al snapped his teeth together with an audible click.
Snatching the contract off the table, Al turned and fled the room.
“And you wanted him as an enemy because…?” Meliae asked after Al departed. The sound of his stomping boots echoed in the hallway.
“He already was one. For whatever reason, he signed off on every Ranger being gone. He’s putting himself between two kingdoms. This mission is a suicide run meant to get us killed.
“No, he was already an enemy. I only made it obvious I was aware of it. Once we leave here, we won’t be returning. We’ll complete the mission as required and little more.”
Vince sighed and leaned back in his chair, laying his hands flat on the table. “We’ll need to hit the armory shortly. He’ll figure he can get the more expensive things out before we get there.”
“I see. Well, I better hurry up, then,” Meliae murmured. With a smile, she slid out from her chair and under the table.
Before he could react, she’d already unhitched his belt, yanked open his trousers, and pulled his length free of his pants with soft fingertips.
Not being able to see what she was about to do definitely added to his arousal. In the few seconds it took her to engulf him with her mouth, he was already halfway to a full hard-on.
He could feel the soft wetness of her lips and tongue as she eagerly began to bob her head back and forth. There was a soft, rhythmic thump as the back of her skull tapped the underside of the table with each stroke of her mouth.
Tender fingers began to stroke his hilt as her tongue slid along the underside of his girth. Each time she got to the base of him, when he could feel his tip in her throat, her tongue slid out from the bottom to lick at the top of his sack.
“Damn, Meliae,” Vince whispered. His fingers curled inward into his palms as her head came back up, bumping the table again.
“Mmmm?” murmured the Dryad, vibrating his length in her mouth.
Her fingers tightened up on him, her other hand cupping his jewels and giving him a playful squeeze.
“Never mind, just…” Vince trailed off as her head moved back down.
Vince leaned back as her head bumped the table once more. “That feels great.”
“Mmm,” Meliae cooed, sucking on him as her fingers playfully toyed at him.
Making a sudden decision, Vince pushed the table backwards.
He wanted to dominate her. To own her. To make her his. To claim her powerfully. Repeatedly.
Meliae’s eyes opened slowly as the table skidded away; full and green, they lacked a pupil. She was hilt deep and her moist lips were melded to his flesh.
Reaching down, he curled his fingers into her hair with both hands. Getting a firm grip, he began pushing and pulling her head back and forth swiftly.
She gurgled, a cough stuck in her throat as her hands gently pushed at his hips. Her resistance was false, false and designed only to egg him on.
Her eyes begged him to destroy her in whatever way he saw fit, even as she pretended to fight him with her hands.
Grunting, he worked her head back and forth like it was his to do so. Her mouth pulled at him, sucking hard as he pushed her head back, and eagerly moving down when he pulled on her.
He wanted to just unload it into her mouth right then and there.
With a serious mental effort, he pulled her head back completely.
Gasping for air, Meliae gazed up at him with some emotion he couldn’t identify. Precum and drool trailed from her mouth and down her chin. She ran her tongue over her full lips, making a show of it.
Grabbing her by the shoulders, he lifted her up and pushed her towards the bed.
Stumbling over her own feet, she flopped halfway onto the bed. She’d managed to bend herself over the bed. She turned her head and stared back at him, those full green glowing eyes demanding that he destroy her.
Even now, each movement was intentional. Designed to draw more and more ownership of her from him.
Lining up behind her, he yanked her pants down. His left hand pressed into the soft, luxurious skin of her hip as his right hand guided his tip into her small, narrow slit.
Pushing forward, he entered her in a single stroke. Her wet insides pulsed and clamped down on him as her body shuddered.
Reaching up, he tangled his right hand into her hair and pushed her into the bed as he began to hammer into her.
Meliae reached up and began to very gently tug at the hand on her head, as her other hand reached back to push ever so lightly on his hips.
Even as she pretended to fight him, she angled her hips and pushed back into him.
Vince plowed into her over and over, her small body rebounding each time. Her hands continued at their make-believe resistance as she moaned and thrust back at him.
There was nothing left in Vince at this point. He’d already been at his end back at the table. Only through wanting to break her had he made it this far.
His body tightened up as it prepared to climax.
A small movement at the window got his attention as his member expanded. Looking up, he found Petra watching him through the glass on the other side.
Meliae had noticed as well, her head turning under his hand to look up at the soldier-ant.
He felt Meliae tighten up underneath him, even as his seed spilled out, filling her.
Unable to break eye contact with Petra, or even stop himself at this point, he mechanically thrust into Meliae a few more times, pushing his seed deep into her.
Running out of genetic material, Vince stood there, looking at Petra, who stared back at him.
Untangling his hand from Meliae’s hair, he set it on her other hip, holding her there.
Petra tilted her head to one side, and then disappeared from the window.
“We’re on the second floor,” Vince said.
Meliae nodded her head.
“She was there since Al came in. She was on guard, I think,” Meliae murmured sleepily. Nuzzling her face into the blankets, she rolled her hips a little.
“I see. And… you wanted her to watch?” Vince asked cautiously.
“I want everyone to see me with my tree. I’m the luckiest Dryad ever.”
Meliae started to grind her hips into him while her hands roamed down her body towards him. Her fingers grabbed a hold of his hips and pulled on him.
“We need to talk about this tree thing. Magic as well. And your eyes.”
“Of course, Sweetling, anything for you. But… until then… again?” asked the Nymph.
Chapter 12
Vince dropped the bar in place, locking the armory door from the inside. The clerk who had escorted them here had left them alone. Probably to go run down Al and warn him about what was happening.
“Alright, first things first. Let’s do a quick
pass to see what’s available first before making any decisions. Keep in mind we’ll be wandering around the border. I don’t plan on giving that ass an actual patrol route. Going to just give him a map with the border circled for miles on either side.
“While we’re figuring out what to take with us, you can start teaching me about Dryads. Let’s start with your tree,” Vince said. He’d waited far too long to ask these questions before this point.
Meliae shrugged her shoulders as she began to walk down an aisle.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the tales. They’re fairly accurate. A Dryad must remain near their tree. All Dryads are given a seed from their mother’s tree as they reach adulthood. If the seed should remain unplanted for too long, the Dryad dies. If the planted seed becomes a tree and dies before it can make more seeds, the Dryad dies.”
Vince nodded his head; that all matched what he knew.
A frown spread over his face as he skipped over a rack of weapons. They were all standard things, nothing out of the ordinary.
“Consider me vain, but I’m quite proud of my tree. It’s singular and unique.” Her tone was light and almost playful. She was leaning over a rack of spears.
“Your tree being… me,” Vince said, supplying the unspoken answer.
“You’re indeed my tree. I… can’t remember what I was thinking when I did it. Not very well, at least. I was dying. I remember smelling blood. Blood everywhere. Your blood.” Meliae wrinkled her nose at the weapons before her and moved on.
“I… remember the sweet stench of it. Can remember the taste of it in the air. Metallic and earthy. The scent of raw power, strength. Death. Not yours, but others’.”
Vince began skipping entire racks of weapons, moving deeper into the guild armory. Meliae followed behind him though at a slower pace.
“My mother gave me all sorts of advice on where to plant my tree. Looking for places of power. Magic or life-soaked energy would be preferable. Something rich in the elements that could provide it with more than a normal tree would need. Obviously planting it in a human never came up, simply because a tree shouldn’t be able to survive inside a living body.”
“Makes sense. Why plant it in me, then?”
“The amount of power your blood carries is enormous. It’s constantly refilling regardless of how much is sapped from you. My tree is embedded just inside your ribcage. Its very roots have spread throughout your body, mimicking your veins. In fact, it’s even encased the vast majority of your arteries. It has not a single branch, leaf, or twig on it. It’s a gnarled and twisted thing, stunted and never having tasted the light of day. Yet it already rivals my mother’s in power. I begin to wonder if perhaps it would do better if it shrunk down to a smaller part of you.”
That brought Vince up short. He scratched at himself where Meliae had pushed her seed in.
“Which leads us to the next question you had. Magic. Due to my tree’s unprecedented growth, I can utilize magic. Not as well as those Dryads who developed it naturally over time, but pound for pound, I’m as strong. If not more so.”
Vince grunted and passed over another set of weapons.
Makes sense. A little unnerving, but makes sense.
“And your eyes?” Vince asked.
“A little harder to explain. When I use magic, when I connect with my tree, or… when I let myself relax, that happens. I’m sure you’ve… noticed my nature?”
Vince chuckled at that. “That you want me to break you and treat you like a plaything? Yes, I’ve noticed. Shall I attach a nametag to your color? Maybe give you a new name? Something more befitting a pet? Walk you around town in a swimsuit made of string and a napkin?” Vince joked.
Looking back at the Dryad, he watched as her eyes rapidly shifted into a solid green, her skin flushing.
“Yes, please. Wait. No,” Meliae huffed, placing a hand to her head. Her eyes changed back to normality. Slowly.
“Dryads can only be female. We need a male from another race to give us children. To that end, we… well, we end up with a need to be possessed. It’s normally tied to our age and power. I’m constantly fighting with my own nature because I’m unbalanced.”
“And is this something that will continue, or will it change as you get older? Not that I’m complaining, mind you. Rather fun. Not quite sure how I felt about the exhibition for Petra, though.”
Vince returned his attention to the task at hand. They were quickly coming to the end of the room. Hopefully he’d find what he was looking for here. Everything up to this point had been a bust.
“I’m getting better at controlling it. Especially since becoming pregnant. It’s been significantly easier to control. As to Petra, does it matter? She watches nightly anyways.”
Not really wrong there, she does watch. Wait.
“Oh, is that what you call a rifle?” Meliae asked, her hand pointing to a series of glass cases.
Vince felt his mind split in two different directions. One side of his brain followed the word “pregnant” and the other half “rifle.”
“Wait, wait, back up. Pregnant?” Vince asked, his voice trailing up an octave unintentionally.
“Hm? Yes. Don’t worry, though. Dryads can control their pregnancy as easily as breathing. We’ll not be having children anytime soon. Well, or at least until we’re settled. The harder part will be deciding on which.”
Meliae walked up to the glass case and flipped it open.
Inside were several single-shot rifles from the World War One period. The price for those alone would be substantial. The ammo would be costly, but providing one could retrieve the spent casings, they could be reloaded.
“What do you mean, deciding which?” Moving to the glass, Vince fetched out four of the rifles in total. He held up one to Meliae. “And yes, they’re rifles. Springfield o-threes. Get familiar with it, you’ll be holding one.”
“Dryads can get pregnant multiple times. There’s no limit. As an egg is impregnated, it’s withdrawn into the lining for safety. The whole process is necessary since Dryads have such a long life. We outlive our partners with our lifespan. A full tree’s lifespan, which can be very long. And what I mean by deciding which is your… ahem… genetic material is very efficient. I stopped counting after fifty. You seem to catch a few every time we couple.
“Do I have to use a rifle?” Meliae pressed her lips together, taking the rifle from Vince’s hands.
Vince shook his head, trying to clear out what Meliae had explained to him. What had he expected? Unprotected sex would ultimately result in pregnancy.
He hadn’t expected to be able to impregnate Wasters.
That’s my own problem for not asking.
“Uh, is Fes…?” Vince asked cautiously. Reaching down, he opened the bottom of the case and found multiple cans of ammunition for the rifles.
“Once, so far. It wasn’t viable. Impregnating an Orc in a few months is no mean feat. I’d consider it lucky to happen in a handful of years, let alone months. From what I can tell, though, Petra will be more likely to be fertilized with little difficulty. Physical differences aside, you two are simply more compatible as species.”
Sighing, Vince knelt down and started pulling out the ammo cans.
Not something I really figured I’d have to start worrying about, getting enslaved Wastelanders pregnant.
“Don’t worry, I can keep Petra infertile until Fes is pregnant. We’ve already discussed the situation between us, no need to be concerned.”
“Seriously, Meliae? Why am I not part of this conversation? Maybe I don’t want any of you pregnant?” Vince grumped, closing the cabinet after hauling out a total of four canisters.
“I admit I’m only partially informed of human culture, but I’m well aware of the fact you could take precautions to prevent pregnancy. Therefore, you’re actively trying to impregnate us.
“Besides, I’m happy to have children with you. I can’t wait to take you to my mother to show you off,” Meliae said, her energy and excitem
ent becoming increasingly apparent with every word.
“Huh? Why? After this, we need to head over to the messenger pigeons. I want to send a note off to our own guild hub about this whole thing. Things aren’t right up here.” Vince tied two of the lids together with one of the leather cords he kept wrapped around his belt. Giving it a tug he tied the second one and slung both over his shoulder. Grabbing the two rifles under his other arm he looked to Meliae.
“Because I’m a Dryad that can go anywhere. Dryads don’t typically see their relatives. Ever. But me? My tree is special. Unique. I can go… wherever I can convince my tree to take me. Or simply go somewhere else to take me.
“I’m sure I can be convincing.”
Meliae sighed and hefted the rifle to her shoulder, staring down the sight aperture.
“Besides, what other Dryad can claim their tree got them pregnant?”
Vince felt his mind starting to drift as they meandered along. They were ten miles north of the border, walking sedately through a forest of trees and leading their horses.
It’d been a quiet two weeks since their departure. Easiest money he’d ever earned at this rate.
At no time did Al ever instruct them on how long they should patrol the border. Nor did he ask for status updates, reports, or check-ins.
Which meant Vince was free to wander aimlessly on either side of the border, so long as he patrolled it. For a month.
Then he’d write up a letter to Al, send it from a town hub, and be off on the way to the south.
No fuss, no muss.
Petra lowered herself, bringing her head down to the same height as his own at his side.
Turning his head, he regarded the soldier ant. She’d neither said nor done anything out of the ordinary since she’d watched himself and Meliae.
“Something you need to say, Petra?” Vince asked her, his head turning to the front again.
Ranging out ahead of them, Fes was running point. Meliae was walking rear guide with a locked and loaded rifle.
