Everia

Everia

Dark skin, tanned by the harsh rays of the sun, though you could see lines on him where his armor or under clothes ended and where bare skin began. He was fierce looking, even with the blindfold - he made her tremble simply being in his presence. He was marred with scars, a particularly fresh one lay across his cheek, if not for master's kindness they might have let the wound fester and let the rot take his life. But her masters were kind, and sent her to tend to him. He was a prisoner of war, she recalled the mutterings of her master, when she shouldn't have been listening. He was a prized warrior, it had not only hurt the enemy but the prisoner's pride as well being captured.

"Water," she said softly, moving to him. His sight was blocked from him, arms bound to the walls tightly, to keep them spread and unable to touch the servants or the guards. His legs were free but he was situated to sit down for now, to keep him complacent. She brought the waterskin to his lips and tipped it. His lips were cracked and dry, her master's had waited to give the man any sort of relief from the hot tomb of his cell.

Eagerly his dry lips suckled at the waterskin's tip, like a thirsty babe at its mother's teat. She had to pull it back, or else he'd make himself vomit from too much drink. She felt a pang to her heart when she heard the man cry softly for more.

"Shh, you will get more, " she reassured him, not even sure if he understood her language, but her soothing voice seemed to settle him down, his muscles no longer tense. When he took to being still she fetched a fresh clothe and dabbed it into the clean water beside her, a small basin she had brought with her. She dragged the clothe along his cheek to clean the wound free of dirt and old blood. She heard him give another soft cry when she poured the contents of a different flask over his wound, it was pure alcohol to truly clean out the fresh cut. "Shh," she cooed again, coming closer to him to ease his pains. Once more at the sound of her voice the man stilled and settled down, like an animal.

He was very animal-like, she observed, the pure power beneath that tanned skin. He reminded her of a wild horse or perhaps an untamed dog in the yards. She shared her thoughts aloud to him and once again she wondered if he understood, for he said nothing back, but there was a smirk to his lips, lopsided as if he had heard such words before.

She grew comfortable, chatting softly to ease his pains as she fed him the slop they'd given her to feed him with. She gave him more water and eased closer to him, much closer than arms reach to make her work easier. It went for days like this, her visiting him for hours to feed him and clean his wound, to offering him water and company though he never shared a word back, even after she introduced herself on her third day. He only had his lopsided smile when she told her name was Everia. He no longer cried when she took the water away from him nor made a sound now when she cleaned the healing wound. Everia liked to think he enjoyed her company, for he seemed far more alert when he heard his cell door open and her soft footfalls.

It had been weeks now, nurturing the prisoner and he had not said a word to her. Everia knew they had not taken his tongue from him, for she often saw him lick his lips. Did he not speak before he came to this place? Perhaps he truly did not know the language and did not wish to try; he could always be like the masters here, thinking their voices too precious at times for the ears of slaves to hear, unless it was an order. Everia heard many orders from masters, she was pleased to keep herself down here with him - her kind and quiet prisoner.

She drew the clothe across his forehead, droplets soaking into his blindfold. He no longer struggled with the chains, but remained still and calm, the movement of his chest breathing, his only movement. She wondered how he could be so still, she often fidgeted... especially when another's hands were on her.

"You are so disciplined," she commented, leaning over him as she ran the wet cool clothe across the back of his neck. She had never been told to bathe the prisoner but she felt it her duty to keep him comfortable, alive. His lips and skin were no longer cracked and his wound, though pink was nearly healed now. "Sitting so still when I touch you." She mulled over a dirty thought and giggled. Her quiet giggle made him cock his head to the side and she felt obligated to explain. "Perhaps you do not care for a woman's touch... if I were a boy, perhaps then you would not be so still."

It shocked her when he growled in response and tugged at his chains slightly. "I'm sorry, I did not mean it an insult... I am just envious. When another touches me so I fidget and whine. I am told I am a demon's child for such thoughts and sensitive flesh."

He growled again in reply, but not with anger, it was almost hungry. "Food won't be for some time," she explained, thinking he meant to steer the subject away. She jumped when he tugged on his chains suddenly, but she remained close to him, comfortable with being in his intimate space. "What, are you thirsty?" She tried, drawing the damp cloth across his lips, they were full and lacked cracks as she kept him well hydrated. His tongue lapped out quickly and caught the tips of her fingers in addition to the added moisture.

Everia blushed and withdrew her hand. "Can't you speak to me?" She asked softly, a little begging almost. She saw him stir slightly. "In any language?" She added hopeful to hear his voice.

"Come closer." It was a growl in a language she understood. The words, though, were not what she had been expecting; she was already close to him, nearly touching. Complying, she shifted closer till her knees touched his thigh and she leaned in for added affect. Her face flushed as he inhaled deeply, taking in her scent. Another growl vibrated in her ear. "Closer."

"I -" Everia began to protest but she was cut off by a harsher growl and the girl quieted. She was not scared, though her heart raced in her chest and her breathing felt scarce. Unable to get closer without climbing on top of him, Everia lifted the hem of her skirt, the slits on the side made it easy to straddle his crossed legs. Her knees rested on either side of him, rising her up to bring her chest to his eye level.

Everia always found it odd he did not ask for release, or for his sight, he simple let her do her work; this was the first time he ever asked or rather, demanded anything of her. He seemed to know where she was always without his sight, what part of her was where. Once again, he inhaled her scent and she shuddered, feeling like she was being inspected. She felt the heat radiate off of his skin and down below between her thighs. She lowered herself slightly, the back of her thighs to rest against the top of his. A low gasp left her lips as she felt it, beneath the drawstring of his leather trousers something straining there.

"You make it hard to be disciplined, Everia," he spoke in his gruff voice, uttering her name with the most care. "You have too kind a touch... adventurous and deft fingers, girl. You'd break any man's will with them." She was blushing fiercely the more he spoke. Despite the rough voice, he spoke like a lord, it was intimidating. She had thought him just a foot soldier with great skill, not a respected lord. "Tell me, do they send you down here to get something out of me or do you come to simply care for me?"

Speechless for many moments, Everia struggled to find words. "I-I just come to care for you, sir... I spend longer than I should but I enjoy your company." She felt his hips buck beneath her and she gasped again, hands falling to brace themselves on his shoulders to keep herself steady.

"I can smell it, how, much you enjoy my company." Everia blushed and squirmed, sitting up to keep the member beneath the leather away from her sensitive lips. He smirked and chuckled, though it was hoarse. "Lower your top, Everia," he growled another command.

Hesitating she pulled her hands off of him, blushing. "Why-why would I do such a thing?"

"Do a dying man a favor, I want a drink... a taste." The prisoner licked his lips.

After a moment of stillness, Everia slowly pulled her sleeves down her arms and following suit her top fell beneath her breasts. They were small cups, with flushed nipples, pert from the sudden attention he gave her.

He didn't need any words letting him know she had done as he asked. He pressed his lips to her flesh and inhaled while he let his mouth consume a breast.

"Ah!" Everia gasped and wrapped her fingers around his scalp, digging her fingers into his hair. He struggled for the first time against his chains, as if he'd break them to get his hands on her but did not have such luck. Instead, the prisoner bit the stiff tip and provoked another cry from the her. He suckled, truly like a man dying of thirst, needy for the taste of her.

With little help he switched breasts, leaving the first swollen and wet. Her fingers curled into his hair fiercely as he took to the opposite nipple. He bit her again, and she swore he drew blood as he was relentless on her. Legs, slackened from pleasure, had her pressing against his erection, which he ground up against her. He struggled again with his bindings, desperate to grip her soft body. It took him a long time to be satisfied with the taste of her, switching between her wet breasts and biting at the soft flesh.

"Please, no more, sir," she pleaded, though she had all the power to move away from him, she asked for his word instead. He lapped at the swollen nipples and nodded slowly, slightly out of breath.

"Thank you, Everia," again he caressed her name on his tongue. "You're very kind to the enemy."

She looked down at him, sitting atop the prisoner, with her breasts exposed and the fat heat between her thighs.

"My name is Alistair, my sweet Everia. I'd like to taste you again, if you'd let me... if you dare visit me again after this day."

She remained still, trying to understand his meaning.

At a loss for words she managed the strength to climb off him and gather her things. Leaving quickly, she could barely walk without stumbling.

---

It wasn't until the morning, after a restless night of touching herself to ease the ache he had left in her, did she realize she had not fed him. Guilt overwhelmed her and she visited him earlier than usual.

"Everia." She tensed as she closed the door behind her, more of his voice. "I know it is you," he growled when she said nothing back nor moved from the door. "I'm blinded, girl, my other senses are stronger than you think."

Feeling defeated she moved towards him.

"You've bathed for me," he observed, after a deep inhale. He barely said a word and now he was eager to pull the language from her lips.

"I felt... dirty," she commented softly, lowering herself to his level. "I am sorry, I forgot to feed you yesterday." Everia reached for the slop but his voice stopped her.

"Mm, I think not, I could live off a year from your sweet breasts."

Her face burned as she stared at him in shock.

He was smirking, and licking his lips. He cut off her embarrassed stammers with a low growl. "In fact, I'm hungry, Everia... feed me, give me a taste."

She stood frozen beside his body. He would rather the taste of her over the food? Albeit the food was not good, but it was sustenance none-the-less.

"Need I beg for it?"

Everia lowered herself beside him but he shook his head, he must have heard her moving her clothes.

"No, not there, on me, again."

Everia pulled her skirt, as she seated herself on his lap, knees on either side. He did not waste time breathing in her scent, immediately licking his lips after. He was eager it seemed, and it made her chest race. She was eager too, she did not want to admit, but the excitement in her body could not deny the need for him.

"Like this?" She asked him in a soft voice.

He leaned in before she could bring her breasts to his lips, instead his tongue and lips found her ear. "Mm, a good girl, you are, Everia." He nibbled the ear lobe as she felt him stir beneath his breeches once more. "Would you be a good girl and untie my breeches." He did not ask for his blindfold to be removed, or his chains undone, no... he wanted his cock free. "Please," he growled, though the added sincerity was not for politeness but for emphasis.

Everia reached down between her thighs and began to unlace the trousers, feeling the heat twitch at the touch. She unlaced but did not retrieved the beast from beneath and he did not ask her too. She was tempted to though, she could feel it but a flick away from being exposed to her. What would such a great warrior's smaller warrior be like? From the feel of it thus far, it was not a small one at all.

"Thank you, Everia; now come here, girl."

She lifted her hands and slid her hips back in place over the heated bulge. She peeled off her blouse, entirely this time, for him. The clothe was cast aside as she brought her breasts close to him.

He licked his lips and his tongue caught a nip for taste. He smirked his lopsided grin and parted his lips. He feasted for minutes on each breasts, eager to leave a mark and to get the full taste of her. He bit and sucked harder than the previous day, it seemed he did it to provoke more sounds from her.

"Cry out for me, girl," he encouraged in-between breasts, licking up a bead of sweat that rolled down between the valley of her breasts. He bit down on her right nipple and sucked, causing her back to arch and her lips to part and cry out as he asked.

"Alistair." She gasped as she whispered his name; her fingers curled into his hair, tugging on the sandy-blonde locks.

She felt it first, the feel of his cock breaking past the leather, loosened from the untied laces. She jolted at the feel of it pressing against her wet lips. Everia mewled as her juices dribbled down the shaft of his cock, while he continued to taste her, careless to the thought of his member against sweeter flesh.

"Don't you dare move," he growled against her skin.

Her chest was rosy and purple from love bites. He was relentless to have all of her in his mouth. He had even moved up from her breasts to nip at her collarbone and to kiss and bite at her throat, neck and shoulders. If he had more range he would no doubt taste more of her, but his bound arms kept him from his desires.

Everia did not move, though his cock made her nervous, pressed against her as if it might enter her at any moment. He demanded no such thing of her though; it was as if he was teasing himself, or maybe disciplining himself from giving in.

He bit her once last time to hear her succulent cries and then withdrew from her, panting and licking his lips. He had also left little red scratches from his growing scruff. His chin was dribbled with saliva, wetted from her attacked flesh. "Good girl," he cooed, and she heard his stomach rumble. "Perhaps I do require some real food, though I would pick you over a bowl any day."

Everia said nothing, slightly out of breath and silenced with her wanton embarrassment.

"Don't move," he said again, when she had shifted to retrieve her blouse. "Stay put, feed me like this... go as you normally do, Everia, but stay on Alistair's lap, mm?"

She nodded, though recalled he could not see. Her lack of movement was her response.

He ate contently, never minding the erection pressed between her dewy lips as she fed him. How could he be so complacent while she squirmed and carried out her duties. When she moved on to watering and bathing him the member twitched more than usual. Everia mewled and he grinned as he suddenly bucked his hips while she had the cool clothe pressed into his chest.

"Ah!" The thick beast pressed against her most sensitive button and she could barely think for a moment, as if blinded by a flash of lightening. "Eh... eh..." Everia panted as he wiggled beneath her, wedging his cock firmly between her rosy lips.

He began to grind up and down into her, never entering her, just gliding the veiny member against her hole and clit. She dropped the wash cloth between them, it fell to the base of his cock and he shuddered, thrusting quicker.

Her face became pressed to the crook of his neck, arms around him as he continued to buck, forcing her to ride him. Everia bounced atop him, and it was confusing to know if it was of her own will or because his body dictated her to do so. He gave another hard thrust and she brought her head up from his neck to cry out. He caught her lips then, bringing her into a kiss. His strong mouth controlled hers, keeping her there, to let her moans toss between their tongues.

"Mm-Alistair!"

He grunted when her body began to contract and stumble into bliss. A climax brought on by his pistoning thick cock. He hadn't even entered her and he had the goddess inside of her moaning. She felt his seed spill, shooting up against her stomach and into the folds of her skirt, some of it sprawled across his stomach as well. Both panting, he slowed his movements till no more cum came from either of them. Her juices covered his shaft while his slid down the surface of flesh slowly.

"Good girl," he growled once more, slightly out of breath.

Everia finished bathing him and laced his trousers up at his request. She took the time to clean herself off as well, quiet as she did so, though he seemed to listen, his grin widening when he heard little whimpers from her when she touched swollen and sensitive flesh, left so from his wicked manners. Pulling her blouse back on she gathered her things, done for the day but hesitated at the door, she had been wordless for the most part.

"Good night, Alistair," she said softly and he smiled at the sound of her timid and sweet voice.

"Good night, Everia." The cell closed behind her and his content sigh filled the quiet hall.

---

Alistair

The days had been unbearable. He had forgotten how many had gone by before he had the taste of water again, and surely it had been a Goddess to grant him the ability to quench his thirst. Her soft soothing voice and gentle touch enough to ease any poor man's soul and body. She was generous in her care, doing far more the necessary for a prisoner, despite the legend behind the dungeon scum. When she had come to grant him gifts of water, food, and health it was a brighter day, though he saw little. The black cloth over his eyes gave him no sight, but the faint knowing of when it was day and when it was night, and the light that seemed to flow in through what was no doubt a small window.

When her soft chatter and comforting touch became too much for him. He had broken down and spoken, breaking the code of his people upon capture. You were to remain quiet, but he could not help himself, not with Everia. The sweet girl was nurturing to him for weeks, and even after his wounds had healed she was just as attentive to his health.

Her scent was as sweet as her nature. He lived for the next day when he could take in her feminine perfume. That touch, such little hands so soft for a servant girl. It was all he could do to keep quiet and to keep still. When he finally snapped, she certainly seemed timid but willing and he could finally have a taste of her. He figured he was probably too rough with her in those first days and he liked to have said it was because of how long he had been without a woman, but in honesty is was simply his nature.

Alistair was much like an animal, a dog perhaps, that kept himself well trained and well versed in all manners. He could be vicious, loving, or perhaps both in one. Oh and when she let him play, did he bite at his bone. The sweet relief of it was too much and he worried that it was a trick the sweet servant girl used against him, he'd kill the man who thought of the idea. Everia had reassured him she was simply there to care for him but he knew the wicked ways of way and though she was probably ignorant, her masters knew what they were doing.

After she bid him a good night he relaxed, feeling another realm of relief. He had never even laid eyes on the girl but he was certain she must have been a beauty in her own right. Who sends a servant girl down bellow to care for a prisoner if not to tempt him with it, to break him with it. He had not even seen her yet and he had broken at her touch alone, and it had not even been an intentional touch.

Alistair chuckled in his place, tugging on his restraints to simply test their worth. He had been conserving his strength for the time being, and now he had no more wounds and his bruises had all healed. Even in full strength he was not sure if he was strong enough to tear the metal from the wall or break his bonds in the slightest. He worked hard at them through the night till the bloody cuffs on his wrists became to slick for him to get a sure enough pull. He found himself laughing once more, at least this would give Everia more reason to tend to him.

The thought worried him; was he becoming too attached? Would she ever stop coming? Would her masters keep her from him? How would they know if she had gotten to him? Probably had socerers to spy and twist the minds; there had been some in his army after all. His slumber took him to many nightmares of a missing Everia and wicked magic bending his body cruelly.

---

He woke with a start, a hand on his face. He growled and snapped his jaw like a rabid animal, her yelp of surprise had him snapping back to reality quickly. Reality did not feel good, his wrists throbbed, the new wounds made from his struggles the previous night still fresh and sore. He cocked his head to listen for her and soon heard him scrambling closer to him.

"Alistair, what did you do? You poor thing..." Her sweet voice seemed to ease his pain, and he relaxed. She quickly applied water to his hands and wrists, the cool moisture sliding down his arms in her efforts. "All these cuts!" She gasped and had to carefully maneuver his cuffs to get to the cuts.

Grinning he could not help but enjoy her touch, even as it stung him. "I wanted to keep you entertained and coming back to me," he said, with as much charm as possible. He gritted his teeth to keep from howling when she poured the alcohol across his cuts. "See, these will keep ya thirsty to heal me for some time." His chuckle died out as she poured more stinging liquid down his wrists.

"What a terrible reason!" Her concern touched him and he was pleased to know there were good people in this wretched place amongst enemies. "I'll have to ask them to bind you in another manner... these wounds will fester if you keep them like this."

His eyes lit up behind his blindfold. Hurting himself didn't seem like too much of a rash idea anymore.

---

She was gone for what seemed like hours before she returned and she was not alone. He heard the second footfalls of a heavier person, a man and the rattling of his uniform let him know it was a guard. The guard bickered softly with Everia and he didn't like the tone he gave her - he wanted to be the only one to growl at her.

"Stupid girl, I don't care if his wounds rot, they're not my problem." The guard struck her, he could hear it from the contact of a leather glove across flesh and her squeak in pain. "You're lucky the masters favor you or I'd fuck you here to keep you more compliant."

"I-I'm only following my master's orders," she pleaded to the guard. "I cannot let his wounds, new or old, take his life. There is another destiny for this prisoner's death. Please, bind him at his arms, away from his cuts, please." She whimpering at the pain in her face.

"Fine, but if I see my lord and he knows nothing of such things, I'll come back here and you will do more than cry from a slap." The guard's voice was high but rough, most likely a spoiled youth given the duty of guard instead of being sent to the harsher world of being a soldier or a knight.

He hit her again and it took all Alistair had not to struggle with his restraints; if he showed any sign of violence or any sign that was attached to Everia, it would be trouble for them both. He vowed to get the face and name of the guard when his time here was done and personally skull-fuck him with a dagger for touching Everia.

One at a time, his chains were moved and adjusted, and for once Alistair could move his shoulders. He did not fight the guard, it was not the time to escape nor to cause trouble. The guard finished the chaining with a swift kick to Alistair's ribs and laughed. Alistair gasped and choked, and prayed to his Gods that a rib was no broken from the heavy metal boot. He forgive the guard only because of his stupidity: when he had moved Alistair's cuffs he had adjusted the chains to have far more slack. Alistair could stand if he wanted to now... and he could possible grab at Everia the next time she was on his lap.

The End

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