#durgrin

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.

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.

Orin’s pace is relentless as her fingers thrust into your gushing entrance— your eyes are clenched shut, the sound of your cries and of her fingers sliding against your overly slick walls echo through the broad expanse of your room. Your body is exhausted, she has already pulled countless orgasms from your trembling flesh. Her hand works between the sticky, sweat laden skin of your thighs, coated in the clear juices of your release.

 “Orin please- ah, stop. You’ve had your fun” You beg breathlessly, clawing at her arm.

“Uh-uh, blood kin you made me a promise— You wouldn’t want to break it now, would you?” Orin asks not expecting a reply as she fucks harder into your overstimulated cunt.

It’s true, you had gotten yourself into this predicament. You had failed the temple, failed father, failed yourself— The seasons had passed you by, leaves once green were now withered and rotting and the first snows of winter had fallen. Meanwhile, Orin had made plentiful sacrifices— many had met their death by her hand as the axis shifted, but your hands remained barely marred by the warmness of blood. You were blinded by your ambition, you had spent your time plotting the world’s demise with the Banite and neglecting your murderous duty to your father.

You knew an end to all would come soon by your doing but, what tangible proof had you to show for it? Barely a life felled by your blade. Orin had bested you and now you owed her. You made a promise, long ago under more favorable circumstances you had sworn to her your body as her plaything would she ever manage to surpass the sheer amount of carnage you could enact in a year’s time. Now it was your turn to pay your penance to her for your inaction in Bhaal’s name— Though it seems as if your body might break in the process, like that of a child’s favorite doll.

The sweet respite of oblivion calls to you as your vision goes black and your body goes limp allowing it to rest for a brief moment before your flesh is cruelly jolted back to consciousness, keeling forward against Orin’s body as she pinches at your aching clit. You let out a strained cry as your head falls back forcefully against your mattress, your spine painfully arching against Orin’s grasp.

“Come now, sister, I know your filthy little secret.” Orin says, her lips brushing against your ear as she leans her face into the crook of your neck.

“I know how much you like being used, like your nothing but a pathetic little meat puppet— your own body betrays you, the proof of it soils my hand as we speak.” Orin whispers, her tongue pushing past her smirking lips as she licks along the cartilage of your ear.

The hairs of your body stand on end as the wetness of Orin’s tongue caresses at your heated skin— Her colorless eyes trail down your body as they gaze down to where you split open around her, her eyes trained on your weeping cunt as it envelops her fingers with her thrust.

“I don’t think my body can take another- I can’t take another— I beg of you, sister- Orin please, stop. It hurts.” Your unsteady voice hiccups as your legs begin to convulse. Your body wrenches in anticipation as the agonizing pull of your climax begins to tug at the throbbing viscera within the depths of your abdomen once again.

The sight of you reduced to a pathetic sobbing mess causes a wave of arousal to course through Orin’s core— The brutal favorite of Bhaal pathetically begging at the altar of her  mercy, the sight alone is almost enough to have Orin burying her fingers into her own cunt. Orin digs the palm of her hand into your clit, forcefully grinding against it— the sensation no longer pleasurable to your abused slit, pain shooting through your frayed nerves. Soon you doubt you’ll be able to feel anything at all.

Your nails dig into Orin’s shoulder as another grueling orgasm is milked from your walls— your body convulses against her as tears spill from your glassy eyes and stain the dewy-wet flesh of your cheeks in salty drips. A guttural moan rips its way through your hoarse, bleeding throat, the sound similar to that of a wild gnoll gnawing off its own leg from a trap. A sob racks through your body, this was all too much— it feels as though Orin is tearing your body open from the inside and rearranging your entrails like that of the corpses she toys with.

Your body falls limp against your mattress, sheets clinging to your sweltered flesh. You feel the wetness of your tears continuing to roll down the sides of your face, though in truth you can’t remember their cause— You feel numb, empty.

Rage courses through Orin’s being as she is roughly escorted into your chambers by your faithful— she was to be brought in your presence by your command. Orin drops to her knees at your feet as the guards release her from their bruising grasp. With a wave of your hands the guards depart from the room, leaving you and her alone.

“So, dear sister, you deliberately disobey me yet again.” Your voice cuts through the silent air of your quarters. You bring a hand to her face, tracing your thumb over her quivering chin before your fingers tighten harshly around it— forcing her to look up at you.

“You interfered with my sacrifice after I specifically told you to keep away— and worst of all in your folly you cost father the blood of all those you didn’t manage to kill with while you were posing carrion for your little display.” You reprimand, scorn clear in your tone as your grip on her grows tighter. “Have you anything to say, little sister— anything to say on why you make ridicule of me, ridicule of Bhaal?”

“You’re the one that makes ridicule of him— your crude mutilations do not honor father. My killings inspire awe among those fortunate enough to bear witness to them. They are the ones worthy of his name.” Orin spits as she attempts to wrench away from your cruel touch.

You release her face from your grasp— you close your eyes, breathing deeply as you try to control the wretched urge to slice Orin’s throat there where she kneels. You manage to retrain your twitching hand from your blade and instead draw your arm back and strike it forcefully against Orin’s angered face.

You compose yourself once more, watching as Orin reaches for her now-bleeding cheek.

“Maybe this has all been my fault, I’ve indulged your deluded misbehavior for far too long.” You contemplate as you kneel to her level, gazing into her indignant stare.

Your finger wraps around the chains dangling off her armor, tugging at it.

“Remove your armor— that is an order, not a request.” You demand as you let go of her chain and push off the ground.

You look down at Orin, towering above her— she averts her gaze from your watchful eyes as she follows your instructions and begins to disrobe herself.

“Father has long accused me of being of being far too forgiving when it comes to you— Today that will be no longer. I have been too soft on you for far too long and it’s been to our detriment. You’ve grown weak, defiant to Bhaal’s word— you will never be his chosen.” You turn your back to her, walking towards your desk.

Orin’s eyes burn hot as tears begin to form in her eyes at your words. The salty droplets threaten to spill out over her cheeks. Orin bites her tongue she will not give you the satisfaction of seeing her undone by your words— You were her mentor, her better, her sister— No one could hurt her quite like you could. Orin’s arms cross over her bare figure as she waits for your next command

Your fingers trace along the wooden edge of your desk as you reach for a bottle of wine resting atop it. Your fingers wrap around the neck of the glass bottle before you throw it at your feet. The bottle shatters as it hits the floor of your room, broken glass and spilled wine now littering the ground before you.

“You need to learn your place— you are beneath me. Crawl to me.” You beckon her towards you with a bend of your fingers.

Orin grits her teeth as she places a hand on the broken glass— she gets on all fours as she creeps her way to you, the glass gashing into the delicate flesh of her palms and knees. The wine seeps its way into her cuts, causing them to burn and making her journey towards you all the more excruciating. Orin collapses at your feet as she reaches your side.

 You bend down, gently brushing the hair stuck to her sweat dampened brow from her face.

“Good job, sister. You are doing well.” You whisper, lips brushing against her ear. Your hand trails down her spine before dipping in between her legs. Your fingers prod at her exposed core, “You know, he gave you as a gift to me— a friend, a sister for me to keep and to train to rain carnage on this wretched plane before the time comes for me to send your flesh back into his unholy embrace.”

A strained moan claws itself from Orin’s throat as you push your fingers into her cunt. You ram into her at an agonizing pace, Orin’s body jerks forward with every punishing thrust. Her legs tremble as she struggles to keep herself from collapsing forward, her bleeding knees hindering her as her slick crimson coats the floor. Orin’s body melts into yours as pain mixes with pleasure, your hands were her salvation and you, her tormentor.

“You belong to me, your flesh is my flesh— say it. Say you belong to me— that you are mine,” you still your fingers inside of her, ripping away the tightening ecstasy in her entrails.

“I’m... yours.” Orin says between pants.

“Louder.” You demand, curling your fingers inside her.

“I’m yours, sister!” Orin declares, breathlessly. Her face burned hot as her walls twitched around you, her juices leaking down her thighs.

A satisfied smile adorns your face at her words, as you resume your thrusts. You reach your other hand around her body, reaching under her and stroking at her needy clit.

Orin falls forward into your lap as her resolve snaps, convulsing against you as white-hot pleasure ravages through her body. You pull you fingers out of her with a wet squelch— you wrap your arms around her, holding her as she comes down from her high. You stroke her hair as her body stills, her body laying limp against you.

“Come.” You say as you lift yourself off the floor, helping her up to her unsteady feet and sitting her on your sturdy desk. You open one of its drawers, rummaging through and retrieving several vials and pincers.

“Show me your hands.” You instruct, reaching out a hand for her to place hers on top of. Orin tentatively places her bleeding hand in your grasp— you fingers wrap around her wrist, turning it over and inspecting her palm before reaching for your metal instrument. Orin’s brow knits together as you begin picking off the shards glass embedded in her skin.

 Silence falls between the both of you as you clean at her wounds before your voice cuts through the air once more.

“I am father’s chosen, you… you are his spare. These are our fates, written in blood and decided long before the hour of our births… Do not delude yourself with wants, needs, we are each bound to our roles in father’s design— You’d do well to remember that.” You utter, softly as you continue your ministrations.

The pattering of her feet against the cold stone floor and the sounds of your soft breathing echo against the walls of your room. You lay in your bed, sleeping— you look so peaceful, your face usually contorted in wicked depravity now tranquil as it rests against the bolster. Orin looks down at your motionless figure— Orin’s own breathing quickens as she watches your breasts strain against the thin material of your nightgown with every inhalation.

Orin liked seeing you like this— completely defenseless. In this light you didn’t look like Bhaal’s bloodthirsty chosen, your face looked so innocent like that of a lamb sent to slaughter. She could slit your throat right now and watch as your blood soaked that pretty little nightgown and you would be completely helpless to stop her. But she contains her urges, killing you in your sleep would only offer temporary pleasure, ending you while you were aware to see that it was her, the sister you looked down on, who had been your ruin would be all the sweeter.

Orin runs the tips of your fingers over the smooth skin of your body, your flesh warm beneath her fingers. You stir lightly at her touch, your skin pebbling beneath her touch— but you remain deep in slumber, lost in the world of your twisted dreams and oblivious to Orin’s presence or her touch. Orin smiles, the high and mighty favorite of Bhaal completely at her mercy— she was the one in control of you for once.

Her fingers trail to the front of your nightgown, pulling lose the flimsy tie at the neckline and exposing your chest. She lies down in the empty space next to you, laying her head of your bare bosom. The rhythmic thumping of your heart against your sternum fills her ears, she closes her eyes absorbed in the sound— she was jealous, she wishes she could be the blood that flows through your veins, wishes she could live inside of you, be part of you.

She drags her nails lightly over your breast before she gropes at the soft flesh— leaning forward and bringing her lips over your pert nipple, her cold lips brush against the sensitive flesh as she parts them and wraps them around your flesh. She suckles at your breast sloppily, her teeth scraping against your nipple and spit dripping down from her mouth and coating your breast. She was feral at that moment, operating only on her base instincts.

Orin’s hand trails down you’re the front of your torso, pulling at the fabric of your nightgown until it pools around your waist leaving your bare cunt exposed to her wondering touch. Her hand dips between your legs, her fingers desperately seeking the warmth of your core. Her digits trace over you slit— you were soaked in your own slick, your clit needy and twitching against her fingers. Orin’s own cunt throbs at the feeling of your desperate juices coating her fingers, even in your unconscious state her touch had an effect on you. Orin releases your nipple from her mouth with a wet pop as she turns her attention to your cunt— She aligns herself at your entrance and leans forward, eyes trained on your cunt as she pushes into you.

She watches as your greedy hole swallows up her fingers, the sight of you stretching around her has her biting her tongue to stifle a moan— she had barely just began playing with you, the last thing she would want is for you to wake up now before she even gets to watch your sleepy face contort in pleasure as you soil your sheets with the sweet juices of your arousal.

Orin tentatively pulls out of you before pushing back in, watching your face for any signs of you waking. Your brow twitches slightly as your lips part and a soft whimper escapes them, but still, you remain fast asleep.

Orin begins to pump her fingers inside you at a steady pace, your spit slick breasts bouncing with every forceful thrust. Your breathing grows labored, as Orin’s fingers work their way deeper as she attempts to explore every inch of your insides— The sound of your wet cunt gushing around her fingers fills the room, your juices coating Orin’s hand as she vigorously pounds into your walls— she wanted to see you squirm.

You tighten around her like a vice as your orgasm crashes into you like waves slapping against a stony shore. Your back arches against your now damp bedsheets as pleasure shoots through your core, your heavy lids fluttering open as the sensation rouses you from your sleep. You let out a raspy cry as you sleepily roll your hips against Orin’s hand, riding out your high.

As you slowly come back to your senses your tired gaze rests on Orin’s grinning face, she was proud of herself over how much of a mess she had made of you. You roll your eyes at her.

“Again, little sister? Will you ever let me rest?” You sigh, sitting up against your headboard.

“It couldn’t be helped, blood kin. You looked so pretty lying still— like a freshly bled corpse. I had to have you.” Orin says, removing her fingers from you and crawling to your side— she rests her head against your shoulder, smiling up at you as her eyes trace over your flushed features.

“If I enjoyed your company any less, I would flay you and have your skin made into bedding— luckily for you I adore you… but so help me father if you interrupt my rest again, I will find myself with a fine new pair of bedsheets made from changeling leather.” You threaten as you bring your hand to stroke over her tawny hair.