#durgerin

You preen at yourself in the hazy reflection of your dressing table’s grimy mirror, stroking your fingers over your skin as you dress yourself in your nightclothes. You just barely finish pulling your robe over your shoulders before you spot his reflection behind you, blurry in your eyes’ periphery.

“My, my, a gentlemen caller this late in the evening— I thought you knew better than to barge into a lady’s room while she undresses, Enver.” You smile, turning to face your handsome confidant.

Gortash greets you with a devilish grin— he walks over to stand before you, taking your hand in his and laying a kiss to the back of it.

“I apologize my little assassin, I just couldn’t help myself— I craved your presence, my dear.” He breathes, his plush lips brushing against your skin as he speaks.

“A most urgent matter, indeed— Did anyone see you come in?” You ask, caressing at the rough flesh of his stubbled chin with your thumb.

“No. You are completely at my mercy, my lady— daddy’s little servants won’t be able to protect you from what I intend to do with you.” Gortash whispers, leaning into your touch.

“And pray tell, what is that?” You play coy.

Gortash chuckles, pushing the thin fabric of your robes from your shoulder and diving his head down to kiss at the soft flesh of the crook of your neck.

“I intend to make you mine, to lay claim to your unholy flesh.” Gortash lays his hands on you, placing one between the blades of your shoulders and the other behind your knees— He lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to your bed and tossing you on the mattress.

The bed shifts beneath Gortash’s weight as he climbs over you, settling between your open legs. You wrap your arms around his neck as he leans down and connects his lips with yours— He gropes at your clothed breast as he pulls the fabric of your nightgown up until it pools around your waist, exposing your bare cunt. He dips his hand between your legs, tracing up your slit with his fingers and circling them over your clit. Your mouth falls open as a serious of breathy moans escape your throat, your head falling against your pillows as he rubs at your cunt.

You whine as he pulls away from you, pulling at his trousers just enough for him to pull himself from the confines of them. He takes his hardened member in his hand, tip already red and leaking as he leans down over you and lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes the head of his cock into your tight walls before burying the rest of himself in you with a buck of his hips. Your breath hitches as your walls stretch around him— you grind your cunt against the coarse hairs at the base of his cock as he thrusts into you. You grab the side of his face pulling his face to yours, touching your forehead to his as you look into his eyes as he fucks into you.

That’s when you see it, a certain mischievous look in his eyes— It was one you had never seen in his eyes before, almost unnatural to his features and yet it felt familiar though your pleasure addled mind cannot recall where you’ve seen it before.

“Is… something wrong, my dear?” Gortash asks between pants, running his warm touch over your cheek.

“No, it’s nothing.” You say, deciding to push the thought from your mind if only for the sake of this moment.

He continues to slam his hips into yours, his tip pounding against your cervix has your brain turning to a mush as your thoughts turn to your impeding orgasm. Gortash brings his hands to your trembling thighs, gripping at their fat and lifting them to lay upon his broad shoulders. The new angle has you reeling as Gortash’s cock prods at the deepest parts of you— Your walls tighten around him, spasming as your abdomen tightens and your release washes over you. The warm sensation of your arousal gushing around his cock as you come undone has Gortash toppling over the edge not even a second later, locking his hips in place and spilling his seed deep within your walls.

Gortash shudders and groans atop your quivering figure as he fills you to the brim, your greedy walls milking his cock for every last drop of his milky-white seed as the excess spills from you. You whimper as he pulls out of you, your gaped walls fluttering around nothing as Gortash gazes down upon where you were connected just moments ago. Gortash lowers your legs from his shoulders his fingers digging into your knees as he pushes them to the side, forcing your legs to remain open for his hungry, dilated eyes to ravage the sight of your ruined cunt weeping his seed.

Gortash scoops the sticky white juices of your mixed arousal in his finger, pushing it back into you. His eyes remain fixed on your dripping entrance when suddenly he laughs, a dark raspy chuckle that rises in pitch as his neck snaps to the side and the sound of cracking bones fills your ears. A puff of ash fills the air as his body contorts, his twisted limbs settling to reveal the true identity of your late-night visitor.

Pitiful.

That’s the only word Orin would use to describe the way Gortash was desperately rutting into you. When Orin heard that he would be paying a visit to their temple she felt her blood boil. Gortash your newest, shiny, little plaything, scorn filled every fiber of Orin’s being every time his name slipped past your lips. You and he seemed to be two morbid peas in a pod. These days you were always leaving the temple to act out some half-witted, blood-filled, scheme with your precious little banite.

It seemed as if you only ever wanted to be around him anymore, you didn’t even make time for her anymore. You had tossed her, your own flesh and blood, aside so you could play second fiddle to the tyrannical god’s servant— it wasn’t fair.

But now Orin can see why you were oh so eager to be alone with him. Orin watches on from the shadows as Gortash drives into you, whimpering with every thrust. She watches as you play along, moaning his name and trailing your sharp fingernails down his back. Orin scoffs— It was sad really, Orin thinks to herself. Orin knew, she made you make much prettier noises with as little as a brush of her blade against your sensitive skin.

Orin has no idea why you would resort to seeking pleasure from such a puny little waste of sacrificial flesh when you have her. Orin recalls how you had savored each other’s shiny crimson, spilled straight from your veins, after you had slit one another’s flesh in a fit of blood-thirsty passion and how you trembled beneath her touch as her still blood-coated tongue delved deep within your walls after. Orin knew there was no world in which Gortash could provide you near as much pleasure— why do you bother indulging him of all people.

Oh, how she wishes she could string him up by his sinews and have him beg for mercy as her dagger twisted deep within his entrails. Then, to further taunt him, she would take you on top of his mutilated corpse. Her thighs clench together as arousal floods her core, at the thought of your fluids mixing with Gortash’s crimson as she thrusts the hilt of her knife deep within you. Her hand teases at her slit of her fine armor, a needy whine slips past her parted lips at the contact.

Orin’s eyes fall back on your writhing bodies— Gortash seems to not have noticed her cry between all the sounds of your own breathy mewls and gasps. Your ears, however perk up at the sound— you could recognize your slaughter kin’s pretty cries from anywhere. Your eyes peer up at the source of the sound— a devilish smile spreads across your face as you spot Orin.

You had felt like you were being watched, you had just figured it was your ever precent father’s gaze looking down at you from his throne of blood in disapproval for indulging in such carnal instincts that didn’t involve a bloody sacrifice at his name— but this is much more exciting. Your eyes hold her gaze as Gortash continues to abuse your walls with his harsh thrusts.  

Orin watches as you intertwine your fingers into Gortash’s hair and pull him into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss, letting him lick into your mouth like an over-eager mutt— all the while you keep your eyes firmly on her. How sweet it is to watch your underling pitifully rutting against her own hand at the sight of your defiled body, you think to yourself. Your walls flutter around Gortash’s cock as you imagine how you’ll punish her later for sneaking into your room and prying on your private affairs. Maybe you’ll tie her to Bhaal’s altar and slit her open, staining his alter with his own spawn’s flood and let him bare witness as you make love to her to her body while you vivisect her. The thought alone is almost enough to send you over the edge— how exquisite it would be to watch as the agony on her face turned to ecstasy.

“Hells— Enver I’m close…” You moan out, turning your attention to the man inside you.

“I know, my darling— You take me so well, you greedy little thing.” Gortash prattles on, obviously as close to the edge as you were.

Your eyes look past him once more, tracing over Orin’s figure. Her boring into you causes your spoiled heart to beat faster, her face indignant as always. You’ve seen her look jealous before, hells she was jealous most of the time, but you don’t thin you’ve ever seen her look so… possessive— it made your innards throb.

Your walls spasm around Gortash’s cock, you keep your eyes on Orin’s as your orgasm courses through your body. Gortash trembles above you, crying out as he spills himself into you.

Gortash lays still connected to you for a few moments more before pulling out of you. He dismounts your bed, gathering his discarded clothes off the floor

While Gortash’s back is turned you spread your legs, putting your core on full display for her. Orin watches as Gortash’s seed spills from between your parted folds and onto the mattress beneath you.

So, first things first, after whatever way you manage to save your dear sister from the clutches of Bhaal, the first thing you do is get out of the city— The two of you flee from the cult, Bhaal, your previous lives, all of it.

You decide to start your new life in a cabin deep in the woods, far away from where anyone can happen upon it by chance. If you are to reform your previously murderous sister, it needs to be in a place where you can minimize casualties.

It’s difficult at first, all Orin has known her entire life is murder, gore, and carnage. You know the struggle, after all it wasn’t long ago you were under the control of your urges…

You just needed to channel her energies into other sources.

So, you caught animals for her— Deer, rabbits, wolves, the occasional squirl, anything you could manage to catch or ensnare without killing.

You bring the struggling animals to her, and she puts them out of her misery— She takes the flesh and bones for her leather work and other artistic endeavors, and you cook their meat for your meals. That way their deaths can serve a purpose beyond just meaningless cruelty.

It was enough for the most part…

There were of course the occasional nights where the urge would get so strong that her body would tremble, and all sense of personhood seemed to leave her body as she tried to claw away from your embrace as you held her through it all.

You would cradle her in your arms and tell her that she was more than what Bhaal made her, as were you, and you didn’t need to be his blades anymore— He was gone from your lives forever.

You tried to avoid restraining her, but you would if you knew there was no other way…

You would tie her to her bed, stroke her hair, and recount whatever happy childhood memories of you to that your fuzzy brain could still recall.

And you would stay with her long after she had tired herself out straining against the ropes that bound her arms and legs, falling asleep next to her and freeing her come morning when her urges had faded.

And life would move on, you would clean, Orin would paint and craft various pieces, then she would help you in the garden just before skinning the catch of the day and leaving you to prepare your supper.

It was a simple life but, after all that you two had been through it was respite, you needed. No murder, no power, just you and her together once more.

Minthara comes to visit:

There are of course special occasions when your lover comes to visit.

After defeating The Netherbrain you and Minthara had agreed to go your separate ways— You would care for your sister on the surface and she would return to the Underdark and fight for her House’s name…

But the two of you would keep correspondence and you made her swear that whenever there was a gap in her endless battles, she would come to visit.

Minthara was, reasonably, hesitant at first. After all Orin had been the one to induct her into the cult of the absolute in the first place and place the parasites in your minds…

But you managed to convince her that if you were able to get better and escape the thrall of your murderous ways so could Orin, she just needed time…

Minthara agreed, she would return to you when possible.

On such occasion when Minthara made the arduous journey out of the Underdark and to your camp, you greeted her with tears and open arms.

While Orin greeted her with suspicion, which was mutual for both women.

That night after you had retired to your rooms you and Minthara made passionate love— It had been so long since you last seen each other you the two of you took the first opportunity to relish in each other’s flesh…

You tried to keep quiet to no avail, you figured Orin would have gone to bed by now too…

You were, however, very wrong. Orin was wide awake— She had followed the sounds of your soft cries of pleasure and watched through the crack of the door as Minthara devoured at the slick flesh between your thighs…

She was outraged, you belonged to her— You were hers… hers, hers, HERS! But then she figured if you insisted on taking on a lover then you wouldn’t mind sharing your little plaything…

She stripped bare and opened the door.

Your eyes shot towards the sound of the door creaking open, only to be met with the sight of you beloved sister’s naked body…

She walked over to your pleasure ridden body, grasping your face and taking your parted lips in hers.

Minthara pulled herself from between your legs, opening her mouth to object before Orin kissed her lips as well— Quieting any doubts Minthara might have had about this little arrangement.

The three of you took succor in each other’s flesh till the moon maiden’s glow faded away from the night sky and gentle rays of sun poured in through the tears in your dusty curtains.

Sceleritas pours the last of the red viscous liquid into the sunken, stony tub, the blood covering you and Orin as you bask in the carnage of your latest sacrifice. The crimson flows into every crevice of your bare flesh, stopping just above your breasts.

“That’s the last of it, mistress.” Sceleritas says as he lays the empty basin, stained in the gore of your unfortunate victims’ bled corpses, on the ground.

“Leave us Sceleritas— let us relish in the recompense of our abundant slaughter.” You command, waving your butler away. He hurriedly follows your instructions, scampering out of the room and leaving you and Orin alone.

The red fluid coats your skin in its pleasant warmth like a satin blanket. The bath glistens in the flickering candlelight like a vast red sea, only bits of viscera marring its surface. It had taken a whole village worth of bodies to fill the bath— A sacrifice you and Orin had planned together. How the people screamed as the Bhaalists pillaged their homes, murdering everyone in their way. Now their blood fills the canals of Bhaal’s temple, your father’s hunger sated if only for a moment.

“You did very well today, sister— Such a large village yet no substantial protection, it was a good find. You should be happy, father is pleased with your efforts.” You say, wading your way through the blood to stand in front of Orin.

You bring your bloodied hands to Orin’s face, cupping her cheeks in your hands and tilting her head down to lay a kiss on her brow.

“I’m proud of you, Orin.” You praise, trailing your hands down her neck and smearing her pale skin in the crimson that coats your hands before you rest your touch on the curve of her shoulders.

“Thank you... sister.” Orin utters, the corners of her plush lips pulling into a smile. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you to her and resting her head against your chest.

“You deserve a reward— Turn around.” You whisper against her hair before pulling away from her grasp.

Orin stares into you with her cloudy eyes for a moment before heeding your words, a mischievous smile donning her face as she turns her back towards you and grips the hard stone ledge of the bath. She sticks her hips out, pressing her ass flush against your front.

“Hmm, good girl— If only you were always this obedient.” You purr, bringing your hands around to the front of her body and caressing at her breasts.

You grope at the supple flesh of her chest with one hand and trail the other down her sternum, dragging your touch down her abdomen and submerging your hand beneath the crimson covering your bodies. You let your fingers linger over the coarse hair of her mound before dipping them between her thighs and tracing along the folds of her aching heat.

Orin’s breath hitches as your nimble fingers circle over her clit, her nails scratching against the stony rim of the bath. Your fingers slide down her slit, tracing over her entrance before pushing in— your fingers slot into her walls with ease, slick in the blood surrounding your bodies. Your plush breasts press into her back as you rest your jaw against the crook of her neck, watching in awe as her face contorts into pleasure. Blood pushes into her cunt with every thrust of your fingers, coating her walls in its slippery red juices.

The crimson bath splashes around your bodies as you work at her cunt, spilling onto the already grimy stone floor of the temple and staining it in the spurting fluid. You kiss at the blade of her shoulder, your nose pushing into her skin as you inhale her intoxicating scent. A shiver courses through Orin’s spine, goosebumps forming in your lips wake— She writhes against you as you continue to bury your fingers deep inside her throbbing walls. Her cunt clenches around your fingers, the sweet juices of her arousal leaking around your digits and mix with the surrounding blood.

You bring the hand fondling her chest up to her face, fingers pressing at her jaw and turning her face towards yours— You press your mouth to hers as you quicken your fingers inside of her, driving into her spongy walls at an unrelenting pace. Orin whines into your mouth as her thighs tremble around your hand, threatening to give in beneath her as her orgasm crashes through her. You dip your hand into the blood once again— you gather it in your palm and lather it into the heaving flesh of her chest as she grinds her cunt into your hand, riding out her high. You bring your bloodied finger to her panting mouth, pressing them against her tongue. Orin wraps her lips around your fingers, lapping at the heady crimson and groaning at the bitter metallic taste.

Her body falls still against you, sated as you take your fingers from her mouth— her spit coats your fingers, a red tinged string of saliva connecting the two of you. You lean down, joining your lips to her once more before pulling away.

The sound of your pacing footsteps echo throughout your room, feet anxiously scraping against the ground as you wait for his arrival. You’ve been at this so long you begin to doubt he even received your letter, though for as long as you’ve known Gortash he has never been one for timely correspondence, no he liked to keep you waiting— only made you appreciate his presence more he had said, the cocky prick.

“Careful dear, you might just wear out the floor.” Gortash’s voice cuts through the pattering of your feet as he enters your chambers.

“You came, after all. Late as always…” You acknowledge his presence, an air of indignation hanging over your cold words.

“Fashionably late, my dear— you know I could never refuse you.” Gortash smirks, sauntering over to you and greeting your cross face with a kiss.

“Keep me waiting this long again and you won’t have the chance to refuse me…” You chastise, though your body melts into his warm touch.

“I doubt that— I need you Enver I have this ache only you can ease. Such honeyed words put to paper, I don’t think I’m at risk of being replaced any time soon…” Gortash whispers, using the words of your letter to him against you.

“Alright you don’t have to tease, I’ll cut your tongue should you humiliate me any further.” You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed my dear, after all I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t share the same ache…” Gortash chuckles as he leans down, kissing at your neck.

Gortash trails his hands up the front of your body, undoing the clasps of your robes and revealing more skin for his wandering lips to caress. He tugs the garment down your body harshly, exposing your bare figure— He kneels before you, kissing down your abdomen before pulling you down onto the ground with him.

“Too eager to take me to bed, lover? How uncouth, it’s almost enough to offend a lady.” You gasp as he lays you down on the steps leading to your bedstead.

“That may be so but you, my dear, are no lady.” He retorts as he begins to strip himself of his clothes.

“Touché.” You giggle.

He trails his fingers below your navel, his touch soft as he grazes over your mound. Your breath hitches as he dips his hand between your thighs, gently rubbing at your swollen clit. He positions himself to lie between your spread legs as he brings his mouth to your wet heat. He licks at your slit, focusing his attentions on your bundle of nerves.

As you writhe under his tongue you are unaware of a figure watching from the shadowy recesses of your bedroom, Gortash. He watches attentively as the figure between your legs devours your dripping cunt, perplexed by the sight in front of him— a double of him bedding you before his very eyes… Orin. Your very sister, disguised as him to take his place as your paramour. He’s too stunned to move, yet he can feel himself hardening in his trousers. He palms at his bulge, his hand tracing over the twitching outline of his cock.

Your body trembles as you near your orgasm but Orin pulls her mouth away, leaving your needy cunt dripping and sensitive as your high painfully dissipates. You open your mouth to whine but as you do Orin flips your body over, the rough stone of the steps scratching at the delicate skin of your hands and knees as she roughly thrusts into you. Gortash lets out a low groan as he watches Orin bottom out inside of your cunt with a wet squelch— he grabs at his length, stroking himself over his pants as he watches Orin fuck into you. Your little gasps and moans as Orin reaches between your legs and strokes at your clit and pushes into your walls with his cock only urge him to rub at his aching hardness faster.

Orin leans forward, gripping a handful of your hair and pulling your head back as she increases the pace of her hips— her hips loudly smacking against the plump flesh of your ass. Your head falls towards the ground, weight resting on your elbows as your body begins to tremble once more— Your moans bounce off the vast stony walls of your room as you come around Orin’s cock. Orin releases your hair from her grasp and grips onto your hips as your knees buckle beneath your pleasure ridden body. Gortash’s cock strains against the confines of his pants, come leaking from his reddened tip as he reaches his high to the sight of you reeling under the changeling’s touch.

Gortash’s mouth hangs agape, panting as he comes down from his high— His sticky seed seeps into the dark fabric of his clothed crotch, making it obvious that the high and mighty Banite had just come over his lover getting rutted into by someone else. Orin falls forward against your back as she comes deep within your womb, her seed spilling from your spent cunt as she pulls herself from you.

“My love, I believe we have a spectator.” Orin says, still wearing Gortash’s face as she turns towards his disheveled figure.

“Fuck… Gods above Orin can’t you learn to stay out of my personal affairs!” You spit turning towards your disguised sister as soon as you spot Gortash staring at your bare bodies near the entrance of your quarters.

“I couldn’t help myself— Your letter was so detailed, the things you wanted him to do to you… it was simply titillating.” Orin teases, her bones cracking as they return to their normal state, her disguise undone.

“What have I told you about snooping about my private writings? Get out of my sight and if I ever catch you reading my letters again, I will have you quartered on father’s altar!” You scold her as you grab your robes from the floor.

Orin pushes off the floor, obeying your command and making her way out of your chambers. A devilish smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth as she passes Gortash, noticing the wet stain at his crotch as she walks out of your room— not only had she succeeded in getting under your skin, but she had also made a fool of your pathetic little plaything.

Silence falls over Bhaal’s temple as you prepare for bed in your quarters. You sit looking at your reflection as your maidservants try to brush the crusted crimson out of your hair. You lean forward, examining your face in your mirror— your features are marred by the blood of the day’s killings. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as images of your blade slicing into flesh and bodies writhing beneath you in agony dance through your mind- but alas, all good things must come to an end. You grab a cloth from the basin on your vanity and wipe at your bloodied face. As you finish ridding yourself of the gore on your skin, you spot her out of the corner of your eye, shrouded by the shadows of the dark recesses of your room.

“You know, you don’t have to sneak in, sister. We are family, after all.” You reprimand.

“Awe, where’s the fun in that slaughter kin.” The dim candlelight of your chambers illuminates Orin as she steps towards you, the light catching on her teeth as her lips pull back into a mischievous smile.

A soft chuckle leaves your lips.

“Nevertheless, it’s good you’re here— I’ve been meaning to speak with you, alone.” You raise a hand waving your servants away as you turn your attentions towards her.

You stand from your seat at the vanity and turn to face her. “Little sister, whatever to do with you.” You walk up to her, circling around her like a scavenger circles fresh carrion. “Father isn’t pleased with you, he believes you aren’t using your talents to their full potential— and I’m inclined to agree with him.”

Orin’s brows knit together as her expression shifts to one of irritation.

“My blades bare the blood-spill of thousands.” Orin spits through gritted teeth, indignation clear in her expression.

“Bhaal will not settle for the death of thousands when he could have the deaths of millions— You waste too much time little sister your blades are too discerning, too fickle, you place beauty above efficiency too often and father grows tired of it.” You contend.

“You’re lying, you’re trying to deceive me because your meaningless butchering’s are not worthy of father- yes… you grow afraid. You cower at the thought that he will see you are the not who is not worthy-”

The sound of skin hitting against skin fills the room as the back of your hand strikes against the side of her face. Her head jerks back at the impact— a bruise already starting to bloom beneath the pale skin of her cheek.

“You wish to be his chosen and yet you whine like a petulant child. Perhaps you’re not as ready to stand by my side as I thought you to be.” You gently stroke your knuckles over the spot your hand struck, “I was going to play fair, but since you clearly have no respect for your dear, sweet, patient, sister you’ve forced my hand— undress yourself, I won’t ask twice.”

Orin heeds your instructions and begrudgingly begins to undress. She knows better than to protest, she’s already worn your tolerance down to its last fragile thread for the day.

“So, you can follow orders when you want? Isn’t that something, keep it up and we might make something of you yet little sister.” You tease as you push your night robes off your shoulders. The stagnant air of Bhaal’s temple greets your now bare flesh.

Your hands travel down the front her body over her breasts, her nipples hardening under your touch. They continue their journey finding purchase in her hips, you bring your knees to the ground, kneeling to eyelevel with her mound. You push her hips back against your bedpost as your hand traces over the tawny hair of her cunt. You bring your lips to her stomach, placing a gentle kiss just below her bellybutton. Your kisses trail down in a slow descent to her core.

Orin mouth opens in a breathy gasp as your tongue teases at her clit. Your tongue delves within her folds. Her needy hips buck forward involuntarily, seeking further friction against your face. Your grip on her hips tightens harshly, holding them in place. Orin knows there’s sure there’s soon to be bruises littering her skin where your fingers so callously dig into her tender flesh, an excited shiver runs through her at the thought.

You free one of your hands from their vice grip on her, your other hand still pinning her to your bedpost. You tease at her entrance with your fingers— she was practically dripping already, your sinful mouth curves in a smirk against her.

You plunge your fingers into her thrusting roughly in and out of her, giving her no time to adjust. Orin body violently jerks forward as a guttural moan escapes her throat. You had barely just begun, and she already felt as though she was clawing at the edge of her impending orgasm.

Her quiver beneath her, threatening you give way as pleasure racks through her body. Orin’s back arches against the wooden frame of your bed but just as the wound ecstasy wrapped tight around her innards is about to snap, you pull away.

Orin eyes snap open, she doesn’t bother hiding her irritation towards you as she glares daggers down at you

“No fair, no fair, no fair— blood kin.” Orin whines, her mouth hangs open panting as she winds down from her would-be orgasm.

“It’s perfectly fair, you lack discipline- respect. Your actions have consequences, little sister— it seems you haven’t learned that yet.” You stand, making your way to sit at the foot of your bed, “You can come when you show me you deserve to.” You let your legs fall open as you recline back to rest on your elbows.

Orin huffs in annoyance, she wants to cut that arrogant look off your face. She wishes she could shove you down and grind her cunt against your mouth until her juices coat your entire face and drips down unto your pristine sheets, staining them with her scent. All in good time, but at this moment you hold the upper hand— she knows that to disobey you now will only lead to further punishment for her, so she chooses to play by your rules.

Orin joins you on the bed, laying her body flush against yours. She reaches between your bodies, pushing into your slick-soaked heat. Her fingers are eagerly swallowed up by your aching core. Orin leans down, scraping her eager teeth over the soft skin of your neck. She yearns to spill warm, shiny, crimson flowing through your veins. Her mouth stops where your neck meets your shoulder. She gently traces her tongue over the area before sinking in her sharp teeth, breaking the delicate skin. Your blood spills into her mouth, dripping down her chin as she pulls back

Your walls flutter around her fingers at her actions, the sight of your own blood-spill only adding to your arousal. Your hand flies to the back of Orin’s head, grabbing a fistful of her hair. You pull harshly at her strands, tugging her head towards yours. Your lips meet in a rough open-mouthed kiss. A pleasurable groan escapes your throat as you taste herself on her tongue, you feel light-headed as the coopery taste fills your senses.

Your body tenses, your body shakes in anticipation of your impending orgasm. You decide Orin’s done enough to earn her reward you reach around her, plunging your nimble fingers into her aching cunt. A soft whimper escapes Orin at the intrusion.

Your bodies intertwined, the both of you writhe against each other’s naked flesh. Your body stills as your orgasm courses through you your falls open in a strained cry of pleasure. You continue pushing inside her as you come down from your high. Another harsh tug at her long tresses has her gripping to your body tightly as her hips jerk violently against yours. Her juices gush around your fingers and drip down to join yours on the now damp sheets of your bed.

You still against each other. Silence falls between you, the only sound to be heard is that of your heavy breathing filling the room. You don’t allow for much time to pass before you’re slipping out from under her and walking to your vanity. You pick up your brush from atop it before returning to sit beside her.

“Sit.” You command, though softness is laden in your voice.

Orin obeys, sitting up with her back turned towards you. You delicately begin unbraiding her hair. You bring your brush against her scalp as you begin brushing through her delicate strand. You take care to make sure the brush doesn’t get caught on any tangles.

“You know I only want what’s best for you. If you ever want the chance to challenge me, you have to do better,” you say as you gently untangle the jewelry from her hair. “Promise me that you’ll try.”

Orin pauses for a second, considering your words.

“Whatever you say, bone-killer.” She breathes, too exhausted to argue with you further.