{DF} Alorna the Dragon ~ Chapter 4

Chapter 4
Tara Antula

[NOTICE ~ This chapter contains weapon play. There is NO BLOOD. There are NO WOUNDS. No elves were harmed in the writing of this chapter.]

         A light-hearted air filled Alorna's cozy caravan. It wasn't often that she had guests inside of it, as it was Alorna's only private place when on the road. Tonight, however, was quite different. The slaver had made a stop just outside of Désir, the capitol city of Rouge. This was a place of joy, its residents throwing large festivals, parades, and celebrations at least once a week. The buildings had bright paint splattered across their walls and warm inviting glows behind their windows. The streets were paved with chalky bricks of various colors and large lanterns lined the sidewalks, allowing people to enjoy the night for as long as they wished. Désir, and Rouge as a whole, was a peaceful place full of friendly and genuinely happy people. If Alorna had to choose a place to settle down, this would be it.

         Most importantly, Désir was the hometown of Rouge's very own crime boss, Madame Beatrix Boudoir. The Madame runs the red light districts in not only Rouge, but the whole continent. Every brothel, bordello, and whorehouse dropped coin in her pocket. Unlike most of the crime lords in the seven kingdoms, those that paid Boudoir actually received protection. She made sure each and every one of her associates received proper security and the employees felt safe doing what they did. Some may argue that the Madame wasn't a criminal at all, but make no mistake, she's just as much of a cut throat as Alorna.

         The pair of criminal power houses lounge atop Alorna's many pillows, sharing a hookah, bottle of orcish brandy, and laughter. It wasn't often Alorna got a chance to enjoy someone's company. She surrounded herself with those that feared her and she didn't particularly like those which kept their lips firmly pressed to her ass. Unfortunately, Alorna had a schedule to keep and it was time to do a little business with her old friend.

         "Have you heard of The Earl's demise?" She asks. Her eyes rest upon Boudoir's always smiling a face, a softness in them that few got to see from Alorna. The Madame gave a small nod, raising her dark red eyebrows. "His whole compound got torched to the ground. A shame really."

         "Oh yes, quite the shame," Boudoir agrees. "But what can you expect? Things like this happen when you make enemies with powerful people. The Earl had more of those than I can count." The Madame bites her lower lip, debating whether or not she should say what's on her mind. It's no secret that Alorna had problems with the thief and what she did to those that wronged her was even less of a secret. "A few of us, er, bosses among those enemies." Boudoir wrinkled her nose. She'd never liked the term 'Crime Boss' or being referred to as one. The word felt odd in her mouth and even stranger as it hit her ear. Of course, she enjoyed hearing Alorna say it in her quite posh accent, but she enjoyed hearing Alorna say just about anything. "You wouldn't happen to know any of the details, would you Alorna?"

         "I would," Alorna admitted. A chuckle escaped Boudoir's throat, causing a small smirk to come to the slaver's lips. Everyone knew exactly who'd dealt with The Earl, but very few actually cared. He was a slimy thief with few friends and the higher ups were all glad to be rid of him. Some more than others. "But, as much as you know I love spending time with you, in this town, I am here on business. The Earl is dead and Ombre is without a Boss." Boudoir mouths the word 'boss' silently mimicking Alorna's accent. "I'm off to Araignée to discuss his replacement with Tara. The rest will make the trip to discuss it with her after I arrive, though I don't expect you'll leave Désir for even a moment."

         "You know me well, Alorna," Boudoir confirms. "If you'd be a doll and deliver my recommendation when you see her, I'd be eternally grateful. I hear eternity is much longer for those of Elven blood as well, so that truly means something, no?" Alorna tilts her head. She can't help but smile when she speaks with Boudoir, as if the woes of the world simply disappear when the two are together. "Tell Tara, I do not care who replaces The Earl, so long as they know not to step on my toes." Alorna opens her mouth, but Boudoir holds a finger up. From most, this would be an insult worthy of death, but Boudoir is scatter brained and does it without malice. "Also, tell her to come visit Désir soon. Take a break from work." She points to Alorna. "You should come with her. Like old times."

         "Simpler times," Alorna says, gently wrapping a hand around Boudoir's wrist. She lowers the Madame's pointing finger. "I'll be sure to tell her. One more thing, before I must leave. You know I can not take Ava to Araignée." Boudoir's eyes light up at the mention of Ava. She knew Alorna's personal slave well. In fact, she was the one who trained her to be the obedient pet to Alorna she was now. The Madame was much more skilled in teaching servants, while Alorna only knew how to break slaves. "I'd like to leave her with you, as a favor for me. I believe you still owe me a few, no?"

         "I don't need to be indebted to you to watch after Lady Ava," Boudoir chuckled. "She's always welcome in my home. I'll even give her a refresher course on obedience!" She lays a hand upon one of Alorna's thick chocolaty thighs. But Araignée is quite the trip. Will you be ok without your Ava for that long? Would you like a replacement?" Alorna opens her mouth to answer, but Boudoir simply continues talking. "Not that anyone could replace Lady Ava, a little treasure that one. But surely you'd like a little company for the coming weeks, something different.

         "You know, I just finished training new servant, male. Tall, tall, tall, not as tall as you, taller than me. I'm quite short, you see, so he towers before me with large muscles as well. He's the most beautiful shade of forest green, rough face, but most orcs have rough faces, nothing you can do about that. Biggest cock I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot. Thicker than my forearm and just as long, like a steed. I won't touch him, can't, but I think you could handle him, Alorna. Don't you enjoy Orcish men?" Alorna had to stop herself from licking her lips as Boudoir went on about her newest employee. It was true that she was partial to Orcish men, as most Elven women were, but as big as a horse?

         "I think I'll be fine, for the time being, but I appreciate the offer, my sweet. Did you find a few new who-," Alorna stops herself. "A few new employees among my stables?" Boudoir nods, appreciating that Alorna kept herself from calling her people whores. To call those within her brothels whores, would be to call Boudoir one herself. There were few things Alorna could do to upset her friend, but that was one of them. The Madame saw her employees, as well as herself, as givers, lovers, never whores. "Have as many as you like, free of charge. What's a few coins among friends?" Alorna leans in and gives Boudoir a soft peck on the cheek. "Give that to Ava for me."

         The Madame reaches out and gently strokes Alorna's cheek. "Oh, but who will do your paint if Ava won't be around?" The chocolate elf lets out a laugh, loud enough to carry outside of the caravan, and Boudoir happily joins her in laughter.

         "I'll manage, somehow. May Karma bless you in any and all future endeavors." Boudoir rises, pulling her scarlet cloak snug around her shoulders.

         "And Barena's blessings to you, dear friend." With that, the Madame pushes the caravan door open, letting a cool breeze in. The smell of smoking chimneys blows through the air, the sound of lively music in the distance. Boudoir allows Brick to help her out of the caravan and then into her own, much smaller one. Alorna leans back against the wall of her cozy room, drawing a lungful of strawberry smoke from her hookah as she enjoys the fresh air for a moment. Once satisfied, she exhales through her nose, letting the thick smoke curl out, filling the cabin and pouring from the open door. Brick pushes the door closed with a quiet click and the caravan begins moving towards Araignée.

         Araignée is the exact opposite of Rouge. While Rouge is a happy, care free Kingdom, Araignée is a cramped, polluted place, plagued with industry. It's the largest of the seven and thrives off of coal and steam power. The buildings are behemoths made of twisted steel, casting constant darkness on the ground below them. Iron lampposts dot the streets, not nearly enough to actually illuminate the cities, burning harsh oil as they flicker a sickly green color. Criminals loom in the alleyways, waiting for sufficiently rich looking targets. Of course, not everything is bad in Araignée, but most things are simply dreadful. It's an awful place to live that's nearly completely taken over by crime.

         In the center of the capitol is a tower which stands multiple stories above every other building in town. As it reaches for the sky, it twists in the middle. The steel its made of is painted midnight black and the mirrored windows glow red. If someone was trying to hide a criminal empire, operating from this building would not be the way to do it. Most people, however, were not Tara Antula. Tara's name commands as much fear in the common person as it does in royals. She's the crime boss that specializes in assassinations. The hand of her organization reaches throughout the kingdoms. Her presence is even felt among the residents of Magie, island Kingdom of magi. Only the dead may escape Tara's blade.

         Alorna strides through the lobby, flanked by Brick, Mortar, and Aanlyn. As people see the chocolate skinned elf, their eyes go wide and they quickly move from her path, some even running to the opposite side of the room. Alorna pays them no mind, they're nothing to her. Low level assassins, as well as a few general office workers. Even criminals need normal employees sometimes, especially when there's a massive tower to upkeep. Those poor souls would be put through the ringer throughout the next few weeks. There wasn't anything Tara hated more than having to meet with the other Bosses. Unfortunately for her, Araignée sat in the center of the continent, making it the natural meeting place for the rest. That means Tara has to be the host for any all important business, even if she isn't involved.

         Alorna and her trio of bodyguards enter a small room made entirely of brass. The door slides closed, looking more like a gate than an actual door, and the entire room shifts. The sound of steam spitting from pipes can be heard outside. The creaking and crunching of gears grinding together surrounding the four. The room outside of the door begins sliding down, giving way to another room, which follows suit and slides down as well. Aanlyn falls against a wall, nauseous as the room feels as if it's swinging. Alorna lays a hand on Brick and Mortar's backs. She leans forward, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to the cold metal of Mortar's armor.

         Regardless of how many times she uses this 'elevator' contraption, it turns her stomach every time. She feels ill and can barely stand, her knees weak with the unnatural movement. Still, Alorna can't be seen losing her lunch by anyone. It's part of the reason she got herself a pair of massive bodyguards, so that she may hide behind them for such occasions. And, as the elevator lurches to a stop at the absolute top of the tower, Aanlyn spills out of it, falling on the ground. She groans, green in the face. Brick steps out to help her back up to her feet, letting her cling to him. Mortar and Alorna stay in the elevator for a few moments longer as the elf breathes deep, slow breaths. She clears her throat, standing tall once more, and gives Mortar's back a gentle push. He steps out, followed by his employer, who looks as if the elevator ride hadn't phased her in the slightest.

         The top floor of Tara's tower is reserved for very few people. Tara herself, as well as her personal assistant, are the only ones allowed to regularly frequent it. Then come the bosses, who are only allowed there on rare occasions. The entryway is a large, nearly empty room. Tara's assistant sits behind a large desk. Her elbow is planted on the polished wood, cheek resting against the heel of her palm as she stares at some book or another. Behind her is a wall of tinted glass. All that can be seen through these useless windows are the vague shapes of what lies inside of Tara's office.

         "No visitors today, Lady Antula is-" The assistant looks up and sees Alorna. She goes silent, her eyes widening, a lump forming in her throat. The poor girl, who looks as if she's seen a ghost, sits up slowly, her hand visibly shaking as she lowers it to the desk. She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. Alorna comes forward, walking right up to the office door and pulling it open. She immediately steps to the side, a dagger soaring over her shoulder and embedding itself into the brass walls of the elevator.

         "What a way to greet someone," Alorna tuts, entering the office. She closes the door behind her, locking her trio of bodyguards out. Aanlyn stares, dumbfounded. She had no idea the Crime Bosses struck so much fear in those around them. Even Madame Boudoir, who seemed so kind, caused people to flee at the mere sight of her carriage. To Brick and Mortar, this was business as usual, but Aanlyn simply couldn't fathom the kind of effect the higher ups had on their subordinates. Kings and Queens were met with respect and open arms, but these people...

         "I said no visitors!" Tara roared, turning to the door. She's a small woman with pointed ears. Though not a dark elf as Alorna is, Tara seems to be of Elven blood as well. She doesn't tower as the slaver does, but instead stands quite low to the ground. She looked to be shorter than most human women, and much thinner. Her limbs were long and thin, her bottom quite large for her small frame. Her chest is completely flat, encased in snug leather armor. She shares the same sharp chin and pointed ears as Alorna, but her ears aren't nearly as long as Alorna's. Her eyes are much thinner. They glow bright blue, blazing with anger, and her short hair is bleached a deadly white. A pair of short knives hang from her right hip, a sash of pockets filled with all sorts of nasty poison across her chest.

         "I figured I'd be an exception," Alorna sighs, looking towards the door. She turns the lock with a quiet click and looks back. Tara no longer stands at the other side of the room. Instead she's right in front of Alorna, her movements silent as she glares up at the chocolate elf. In her left hand she grips one of those short knives, holding it threateningly close to Alorna's neck. Tara moves it forward, slowly, pressing the cold steel to the slaver's soft flesh. "It's nice to see you again, after so long, Sister." Tara doesn't answer for some time, keeping the knife pressed against Alorna. She shakes, not with fear, but with rage. Her already pale knuckles are white as she clenches the knife, daring herself to just do it.

         "You offend me, Sister," Tara hisses, pulling her knife away. She deftly plunges it back into its sheath, quickly placing her bare hand to Alorna's neck instead. "Problems with the Earl, eh, eh? Should have called me, would've loved to wipe that smug prick's life away. You know that." The assassin clenches her jaw, baring her teeth like a rabid dog, ready to attack. Of course, she can't. One false move and the curved dagger Alorna has pressed to her ribs will pierce her cold black heart. Neither woman is stupid. They both know the other is a cold blooded killer that won't hesitate to slaughter a friend if they needed to.

         "You know I would have called upon you, if I could have, but you're a hard woman to reach," Alorna explains, her voice calm, soothing as it hits the short tempered assassin's pointed ears. Tara lets out a quiet snarl in response. "Besides, there are some jobs one simply can't outsource. The world knows you're someone to fear and gets reminded of that everyday. The Earl had forgotten my reputation and I needed to remind him myself. Everyone would think less of me if I called upon you and yours to do my dirty work." Alorna adds, "Even you would have lost respect for me, had I not dealt with it myself."

         Tara huffs, removing her hand from Alorna's neck. The little wood elf turns away, showing her back to Alorna, something she does for no one, and walks to a large sofa. Alorna follows behind her, golden heels sinking into the soft carpet with each step. The sofa sits in front of a window that makes up the entire exterior wall and lets the pair look down on the city before them. They take a seat, Alorna sinking into the pillowy cushions while Tara barely makes an imprint. "I have missed you as well, Sister," Tara admits, staring out the window. She doesn't look at the sprawling city, but at the sky, cloudy with smoke.

         "I never said I missed you," Alorna teases the younger elf. Tara looks over and they share a small smile. "I saw Bea, just before coming here. She, unfortunately, won't be making the journey out to this Hell hole. She instead sends her regards, and offers you a warm place to stay, if you ever wish to visit her in Désir." Tara nods, pulling her legs up onto the sofa and folding them underneath her. "But I've brought her recommendation for The Earl's replacement, as well as my own." Alorna pauses, looking into Tara's eyes. They're still full of anger, but they always are. She's an angry little woman. "Has anyone else made it here yet?"

         "None of those fools dare come here before you and Bea," Tara says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Not that I want them here at all, but they know that if the two of you aren't the first, they'll get their throats slit. Especially after that stunt you pulled, causing all of this. You know I hate meeting with the others, Sister. They're scum and I want nothing to do with them." Alorna reaches out and runs a calming hand through Tara's hair. The wood elf closes her eyes and leans closer, her guard slowly getting lower and lower as she sits beside her friend. She slides closer to the slaver and lays against her, cheek resting against Alorna's soft breast.

         "I'll be here for the process. You simply need to allow us to use your office and I'll do the rest," Alorna assures her. Tara nods, rubbing her cheek into the chocolate elf's chest. It isn't often that Tara shows vulnerability of any kind, but, for whatever reason, her tough exterior seems to melt when Alorna or Madame Boudoir are around her. She becomes something closer to the carefree wood elf she was before getting tied up in this world of crime and corruption. "Bea's suggestion is the same as when Drogue lost its boss. Someone who doesn't impede her own operations."

         "Of course," Tara says, her voice soft as she gets wrapped in Alorna's perfume. She inhales deeply, enjoying the warm scent for a moment. It's far nicer than the smell of smoke and burning coals that chokes Araignée. "And what of you? Do you care who takes The Earl's place? Or perhaps you're looking for a more... permanent residence in Ombre. You do quite a bit of business there and I'm sure no one would bat an eye if you took over."

         "I won't say I haven't toyed with the idea," Alorna sighs, holding out a hand. She stares at her long nails and the many rings on each of her slender fingers for a moment. "But my home is in Rouge. All my things are in Rouge and moving them to Ombre would be such a hassle. Besides, it's much easier to be on the move in my line of work. I can't have people coming to my home to conduct business. That'd be just dreadful." Alorna runs a hand up and down Tara's arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It should be someone useful to us, more useful than some two-bit thief."

         "What's left? We have assassins, slaves, whores, magi, drugs, poachers, and arms dealers. This is why you should take Ombre, Sister. With my help we could even get rid of the monarch and put you in a cozy castle." Tara opens her eyes and looks up at Alorna, pressing her chin to the dark elf's large breast. Alorna stares out at the city. If she so pleased, she could give in to Tara's suggestions and take over Ombre with little trouble. Perhaps march in Orakh's men and assist them in taking over the kingdom for an even more comfortable life. A life serving under an Orcish conqueror.

         The thought made Alorna's heart flutter, but she quickly came back to her senses. She was no servant and would surely get bored of that life mere moments after it began. However, being the Queen of Ombre would allow her to live a lavish and care-free life. Hand her slave trade over to one of her more trustworthy associates, perhaps Mortar, and simply take a cut. "I'm not interested," Alorna decides. "I'm not a sedentary being. I must remain in motion. The few weeks I'll spend here, figuring out The Earl's replacement, will be awful enough. A life in Ombre would cause me to lose my mind. Quickly." She purses her lips, thinking for a moment. "Mercenaries." Tara raises her eyebrows.

         "Are mercenaries even criminals?"

         "Of course. The Kingdoms are at peace and mercenaries aren't peaceful beings. Without war, there's no reason for anyone other than criminals to hire mercenaries, plain and simple." Alorna looks to Tara. She'd, of course, planned this from the moment she decided to get rid of The Earl. "Speaking of mercenaries, I have a gift for you." Alorna returns her gaze to the outside world. "A few Crimson Boar travel among my convoy and I've grown... tired of their company." Tara sits up. "Judging from your past affairs with the Boar, I figured you may enjoy disposing of them for me."

         "I want all the Boar dead, Sister," Tara hisses, the rage flaring up in her eyes at the mention of the mercenary company. "Not just a few low level pukes."

         "Do you honestly think I'd accept low level members of their band into my convoy. Weak links break a chain." Alorna looks to Tara. "The members that travel with me are directly connected to the head of the Boar. If anyone knew where he's holed up, it'd be them." Tara kept her gaze locked with Alorna's, her breathing coming slowly. Her tongue pushed between her lips, licking them slowly as they turned into a grin. Satisfied that Tara would be tying the loose ends that are Kanabo and the Boar, Alorna plucks a small pendant from her neck. It's in the shape of a bird cage, an ethereal blue light glowing within. "For your troubles."

         The cage drops into Tara's hand. The assassin stares at it. Tara was a simple girl, who didn't enjoy flashy jewelry nearly as much as Alorna, so she didn't quite understand why this would be considered payment. But, as she stared at it longer and longer, sound drained from the world around her. The silence was replaced by a familiar voice. They didn't say anything, instead they screamed and wailed with pain. It was the voice of The Earl, Tara's least favorite person in the world. Well, now that title belonged to the leader of the Boar, but before he died, The Earl's mere existence enraged Tara.

         Alorna places a hand over the cage, breaking Tara's trance. Her eyes snap back to the dark elf's. "I have many friends, some of whom consort with demons." Tara's smile grows larger. "For your troubles, Sister," Alorna repeats with a small nod. Tara leans in, pressing her lips to Alorna's. She slides her slender arms over the curvy elf's shoulders, pressing her chest into Alorna's heavy bust. The two embraced one another, Tara's tongue pushing passed Alorna's soft, pouty lips. Alorna smiles, grabbing Tara's chin between her thumb and index finger. She pushes the assassin away, breaking the kiss. "Strip for me," She commands.

         Tara offers another kiss before standing. She doesn't hesitate to start undoing buckles. Her many weapons clatter to the ground. The sound of glass breaking can be heard as bottles crack against each other, exploding in the leather pouches that contain them. She pulls her chest plate free, tossing it carelessly to the side, displaying her bare chest to Alorna. A large tattoo of a spider crawls up the right side of her rib cage, stopping just before her perky breasts. Bright pink nipples stand on point. Tara runs her hands over her body, squeezing herself, breaths coming faster as Alorna eyes her body.

         Alorna slides the shoulders of her dress down, revealing her dark chocolate nipples, each one pierced with a polished golden bar. She sits back, watching Tara wiggle out of her tight leather trousers. The wood elf is thin, yet bottom heavy, a body Alorna enjoys to see in women. She runs a hungry gaze of the lithe assassin, running the tip of her tongue along her upper lip. Her eyes rest on the patch of soft hair just above Tara's snug lips. It isn't unkempt, but it clearly hasn't been trimmed in quite some time. "You wood elves are so dirty," Alorna breathes as she curls a finger, beckoning her forward. Tara doesn't hesitate.

         Moving quickly, she finds herself on her knees before Alorna, face pressed into those soft breasts. She takes one of those thick, pierced nipples in her mouth, flicking her tongue against it before sinking her teeth in. She doesn't bite hard, just enough for Alorna to gasp. Her free hand gropes the chocolate elf's other breast, squeezing it firmly. Her fingers sink pleasantly into the doughy flesh, so pale against Alorna's creamy brown skin. Tara pulls back slowly, letting her teeth drag against the sensitive nub, pulling it with her lips before letting it pop free of her mouth. Alorna shivers, moans escaping her lips as the little wood elf teases her like this.

         Before Alorna can stop her, Tara moves in for another taste. This time she opens her mouth wide and takes in more of her big tit. Tara sinks her teeth in, biting into Alorna's soft flesh, much harder than she did to her nipple. She moans, letting her jaw tense, latching on. She doesn't want to hurt the slaver, but she can't resist leaving a mark. A ring of teeth marks should satisfy her. As she keeps biting into her, Tara's agile tongue flicks against Alorna's nipple, teasing and toying with it. Alorna writhes in place, breathing fast, feeling the painful bite quickly turn into pleasure. Grabbing the back of Tara's head, Alorna presses her breast against the assassin's hungry mouth, smothering her in a wall of pillowy dark flesh.

         The air grows thin as Alorna holds her in place. Her pale cheeks flushing red, hand squeezing firmer and firmer as she can't seem to catch a new breath of air. Still Tara stays locked in place, not wanting to let go. Her vision going blurry, black spots slowly appearing. She unclenches her jaw and Alorna releases her. Tara falls back, gasping, gulping down a lungful of air as she feels the slaver catch her arm. Not letting her get away, Alorna plants a hand on Tara's stomach, lifting her in the air for a split second and tossing her on the sofa.

         Alorna grabs her legs and forces them open. "Come here you filthy filthy little knife ear," Alorna hisses. Tara gasps at the playful insult, but doesn't have time to throw one of her own back. Alorna buries her face between Tara's legs. Her small nose presses into that soft patch hair, lips kissing her cute little clit. Alorna's long tongue snakes out, running along Tara's snug lips. The heavy ruby piercing laid upon it, splitting the snug little lips.

         "Nyahhhnnn," Tara whines out, closing her eyes tight. She clamps her powerful legs on either side of Alorna's head, already a quivering mess. It'd been quite some time since she'd had anyone between her legs. Though it seemed Alorna had practiced servicing another woman quite recently. As she flicked her tongue against Tara's clit, careful not to let her piercing thump against it. Alorna presses her pouty lips around it, kissing deeply before making her way further down. She sucked at Tara's snug lips, nipping gently at them, tasting the hot drool coming from her friend.

         Tara's breaths come fast, chest rising and falling with the erratic beat of her heart. Alorna's hand hits the ground, patting around the soft carpet as she blindly searches. She keeps her eyes on Tara's sweet little face. She was quite cute when she got all red like that. Alorna feels what she's searching for and wraps her hand around it. One of Tara's knives. As she keeps tonguing the wood elf's snug box, she picks it up. With a flick of her wrist, she sends the sheath flying across the room and quickly presses the cold steel to one of Tara's thighs. Tara goes stiff, opening her eyes, looking down at Alorna.

         She watches Alorna sliding the side of the knife along her leg, teasing her with it, almost threateningly. Alorna chuckles, kissing Tara's inner thighs. "Mmm, remember pressing this to my neck?" She coos. "I heard there's a major artery in one's thigh. Let's test it!" With that Alorna turns the blade and slides it quickly across Tara's leg. The assassin squeals, her entire body tensing. She pants, her legs squeezing around Alorna's head. Her pretty pink cunt sprays liquid lust into the chocolate elf's face. Tara falls back, panting, sweating, shaking. "You're too easy," Alorna teases, kissing her way up Tara's stomach.

         Tara looks back down, her entire body still shaking, goosebumps rising along her pale skin as she rides her orgasm out. On her leg, where Alorna dragged the blade, is a small red mark. A smile comes across her face, a laugh of relief, as well as embarrassment escaping her lips. Of course Alorna had only dragged the flat of Tara's blade against her skin. "So easy," Alorna tuts again. She runs the cold steel of the dagger up Tara's side, making the assassin twitch beneath her. Alorna plants a gentle kiss on Tara's cheek, tapping the tip of the blade to her neck. "If I were going to kill you, I wouldn't leave a single blemish on your perfect porcelain skin. I'm not a monster." The pair shared a smile and Alorna set the dagger back on the ground.

         She slid her arms beneath Tara, pulling the wood elf's small frame into her curvy body. Their lips met once more. The two all-powerful crime bosses lay like that for quite some time, simply enjoying one another's warmth. Alorna was glad to finally be able to relax after her long journey from Eastdrift. Tara's tower was one of the few places in this world she was truly safe. A place littered with assassins, imagine that.

{DF} Alorna the Dragon ~ Chapter 3

Chapter 3
The House Call

         Alorna was in a foul mood. One worse than her usual less-than-friendly demeanor. And, as she walked through camp, not a soul dared stand in her path. They saw the look in her eye and knew that this level of anger was reserved for one thing, a deal falling through. The stoic slaver was on a war path and not even the gods could save the person who had slighted her. She was flanked by her bodyguards, Brick and Mortar, who did what they could to warn any who might stumble in Alorna's path. Causing even the slightest break in her stride would result in a shallow grave and any who risked travelling within her convoy knew that wasn't an empty threat.

         Mortar peeled away from his employer and headed in another direction, breaking into a light jog. She didn't even need to give the order, he knew exactly what she wanted him to do. The large bodyguard was much more nimble on his feet than you'd expect. He easily weaved through the dense crowd, ducking under and dodging around any obstacles as he made his way towards the sell swords. For most, conducting business within the camp was forbidden, but Alorna was one of the exceptions. Of course she was, it was her encampment after all. So, bag of coin in hand, Mortar made a beeline for the most notorious of mercenary groups. The Crimson Boar.

         The Boar were a nasty band of men who had no problem wiping an entire city off the face of the planet. These were the people you contacted for only the most gruesome of jobs. There weren't many of them within Alorna's convoy, but the few that did travel with her, was more than enough for any job she may need done. These especially brutal few lay around lazily sharpening weapons when Mortar barreled up to them. Kanabo, the leader of this division of Boar, looks up at Mortar as he approaches.

         He's a slender man, that Kanabo, tall and lanky. Of course, next to behemoths like Brick and Mortar, he looks to be quite squat and even more scrawny. A long scar runs down the left side of the merc's face, his left eye pure white. Intricate tattoos cover his arms and snake up his neck, all done in various colors of ink. Most notably, on his right shoulder are twenty-two tally marks in crimson. Unlike his brothers in arms, Kanabo lays back, propped up on his elbows, his weapon simply lying by his side. There's not much sharpening to do with the club he wields. The leader cocks an eyebrow, toothpick hanging from his teeth as Mortar tosses down the bag of coin.

         "Lady Alorna calls," the bodyguard announces. Kanabo stares at the bag until one of his men reaches out and grabs it, peering inside. With a sigh the mercenary gets to his feet, giving his leather pants a quick dust off. He grabs his club, which is the length of his arm, and lays it against his shoulder. It's made of pure metal, the handle where Kanabo grabs, is the only part that's polished. The rest has become rough and stained with blood from use. Around the end are a series of rounded spikes, for optimal damage. This mercenary in particular doesn't seem to harbor the same fear of Alorna as nearly everyone in convoy. That's probably why he was made leader of his singular of boar.

         Meanwhile, Alorna and Brick approach a behemoth of a caravan, which looked like it could house a family of elephants. Two armed guards stand next to the over sized metal doors, hefty crossbows in hand, large scimitars on their hips. They spot Alorna and nearly leap out of their skin. The one on the right quickly produces a key and sticks it into the right door. The one on the left fishes his key out and scrambles for the lock. His panic stricken shaking hands miss the keyhole once, twice, three times before he plunges it in, but it's too late. Before he can turn it, he feels Alorna's hand.

         The slaver grips the back of his head and thrusts it forward, smashing it into the large metal doors. His skull rebounds once, twice, three times before she lets the bloodied sap collapse on the ground. Brick steps forward, taking hold of the injured guards' key and turns it. There's a series of clicks within the doors and, while Alorna awaits for the numerous locks to disengage, the other guard takes out a cloth and quickly cleans his comrade's blood off of the metal. Wouldn't want to ruin the polish on one of Lady Alorna's personal caravans, after all. Only after it's properly clean does he grab hold of his fellow guard's legs and drag him away from the enraged woman.

         Brick grabs the handle of each door and throws them open to reveal treasure room. A pile of all sorts of coin, sloppily divided by which kingdom they belong to sits in the very back, taking up a good portion of the caravan. Ornate chests line the walls, each filled with an immeasurable amount of riches, trinkets, and priceless artifacts. Much of that, which is locked away in chests, was gifted to Alorna as a plea for protection. A large throne like chair sits in the center, a tall mirror beside it. A number of wardrobes, no doubt filled with the finest clothes are scattered throughout. This was Alorna's collection. Well, not quite. This was simply what Alorna had procured since she last got a chance to visit her actual vault. If this collection impressed someone, they'd simply have a heart attack if they ever laid their eyes on her vault.

         Brick placed his hands on Alorna's waist and quickly lifted her up, into the caravan. She didn't waste any time, going to the first chest and rummaging around before going to the next. It was clear Alorna knew exactly what she was looking for, but didn't know where it was. Brick stood awkwardly at the entrance, not sure if he's allowed to enter Alorna's special caravan. If he were hefting a load of loot into it, that was a different story, but he didn't know if Alorna would like him digging through her things. So he just stood and watched.

         The slaver was onto her fourth chest, the contents of the first three spilled onto the floor around them, before Mortar and Kanabo joined them. Mortar too wasn't sure if he was allowed to enter the caravan and stood sheepishly at the doors. Kanabo, however, didn't hesitate to hop right in. Alorna glanced back when she heard his boots against the caravan floor, but otherwise didn't react to him entering. Still, her bodyguards didn't join them. It was obvious that Kanabo could do things that they'd get buried alive for. Including make flirty comments to their employer.

         "A beautiful sight," Kanabo announced himself. His voice wasn't all that deep, but it carried throughout the massive caravan and had a certain edge to it that would intimidate most. But not Alorna. "You, not all the money and trinkets and... is that a throne?" Alorna ignored the playful mercenary, moving to the next chest. He itched his nose and looked around for a moment. "Heard you had a deal go sour yesterday, suppose that's why I'm here." Again, Alorna ignored him. He pursed his lips, sucking his teeth. Kanabo cleared his throat and clapped his hand against the side of his fist. "What are you looking for? Maybe I can help find it."

         "A cage," Alorna snapped. That little intimidating edge in Kanabo's voice was present in Alorna's as well. The only difference was, when Alorna spoke, it wasn't an edge, it was the whole thing. The intimidating sound of power that bent all to her will and gained her the respect and fear she commanded now. "A little silver cage about the size of a pendant." Kanabo nodded and walked to the opposite set of chests. He bends down and begins rooting through it, looking for the little cage. "And if you take anything else, sell sword, I'll cut your dick off and feed it to your men." The mercenary paused to laugh. He looked back at Alorna, brazenly eyeing her round rear as she bent over to dig through yet another chest.

         "You're in a rotten mood," Kanabo prodded. "I'd hate to be on the receiving end of your scorn." It took some time for the duo to sort through Alorna's mess of a collection before they found the trinket. Once they managed to fish it out, the rest of Kanabo's band had joined Brick and Mortar, simply watching their employers swim through a mountain of riches. It was clear that, if they so wished, they could easily seize this collection from Alorna. But something about the woman stopped them. Especially with the blind rage she was already in, something told them that trying to take advantage of her would end very poorly for them.

         "So what's the job?" Kanabo yawned, hopping out of the carriage. He offers a hand, which Alorna takes, and assists the Slaver in climbing down. He takes the chance to lay a bold hand upon Alorna's wide hip, his fingers curling to gently squeeze it. Alorna, wrapped up in her rage for another person, ignores the slight for now. "As simple as it seems?"

         "You've heard of The Earl before, no?" Alorna asked. Kanabo raised his eyebrows. The Earl was someone much the same as Alorna. While he didn't deal in the slaving business, he was one of the most renown names in the criminal world, as well as the most infamous criminal in all the Seven Kingdoms. This was mostly due to the fact that, despite his high profile, very few people knew who he actually was. In fact, the only people who had truly seen The Earl's face were the handful of criminals regarded as bosses of the underworld. One of those bosses was, of course, Alorna the Dragon.

         Kanabo hesitated for a moment. The only reason Alorna would bring The Earl up is if he was the one she needed the Boar's help dealing with. Siding with a Alorna against another Boss wasn't really something for Kanabo to decide. Sure he was a Captain within the Crimson Boar, but this was something that was far above his authority. Under normal circumstances he'd join Alorna without a second thought, but this wasn't something that happened everyday. It'd been years since a conflict like this arose between two bosses and Kanabo couldn't quite remember what his band had done during that time.

         "The Earl is a friend of the Boar, just as you are Lady Alorna," He said slowly. He could see that didn't quell any of the flames behind her eyes. It may have even made them burn more intensely. "And it isn't wise for us to take part in something like this. I mean, if we betray The Earl today... what will everyone think of us tomorrow? What would you think of us Alorna? If we're willing to betray one crime boss, surely you'd begin to think we're willing to betray you." Alorna cocked an eyebrow. "Not that we would ever, betray you Lady Alorna," Kanabo adds, placing a hand over his heart. Alorna stared at him for a moment before dropping her brow.

         "Tell me, do you know who the Earl is?" Alorna poked. Kanabo glanced at his men before shaking his head. "That's right and neither does anyone else. Could anyone really blame the Boar if you killed an important man by accident? Say you've grown bored of my company and decide to ransack a castle we pass by. If the Lord of that castle happens to be someone of power in the Underworld, but no one knew... did you really betray him?" Kanabo stares into Alorna's fiery eyes, considering this for some time. "And once the Earl is gone," Alorna continues, "there will be a vacancy."

         "Say," Brick grunts. Kanabo looks over at him. The bodyguard licks his lips and gestures to the Boar all around him. "Aren't you and yours from the Kingdom The Earl runs the underworld in?" Kanabo nods slowly. "I'm from around those parts too and I remember him being a bastard with all his protection fees. Part of the reason I joined up with Lady Alorna. So long as I'm flying the Dragon's banner, I ain't gotta pay protection to no one. Surely if someone you worked for took The Earl's place..." Brick raised his eyebrows, not finishing his thought.

         "I know your leader quite well, Kanabo. He lusts for power. I'm giving you a chance to not only earn a little coin, but his gratitude as well," Alorna continued. "Besides, having a leader of mercenaries join my ranks is much more useful than some petty thief. Do this job successfully and your men will not only become the de facto Kings of Ombre's underground, but you'll be the ones collecting protection money." A small grin crawled across Kanobo's lips.

         Alorna was right. Of course she was. One doesn't earn the rank of Crime Boss without knowing the underworld like the back of her hand. Not to mention the fact that Alorna didn't exactly belong to any Kingdom in particular. While the other seven bosses had a base of operations and rarely traveled, the slaver roamed from Kingdom to Kingdom as she pleased. She didn't pay protection fees to the boss in charge of whatever Kingdom she happened to be operating in at any given moment, nor did she pay taxes to the royals up in their castles. Her name carried so much weight that everyone allowed her to do as she pleased, as to not offend. Rules simply didn't apply to Alorna and there would be little to no repercussions to her orchestrating The Earl's downfall.

         So it was decided. Alorna's convoy went off course and headed straight for the heart of Ombre. Not the capitol, which lay on the coast, but a small fiefdom called Eastdrift. It was a tiny thing that didn't even have an inn. Travelers didn't stop here and no news makers walked its unpaved streets. The houses were simple stone work with hay roofs, each one equipped with a dingy cellar. Overlooking the town was a humble mansion. It didn't tower high in the sky or stretch out far across the landscape. In fact, it was barely big enough to be considered a mansion. Large, well manicured hedges surrounded it, hiding most of the windows from prying eyes and behind the gate bubbled a white stone fountain.

         To most, this town would look like nothing and to most that's exactly what Eastdrift was. Nothing. But some knew better. Criminals with quick hands all knew the name Eastdrift and those that fenced stolen goods heard tale of the thief refuge. A place to rest your weary head when not swiping things from the hard working folk of the world. But to Alorna, and many others, Eastdrift was less than nothing. It was a den of vermin and today Alorna's Boar would be the exterminators.

         The slaver's convoy encircled Eastdrift. Caravans, horses, wagons, and men of ill repute surrounded it, preventing any within the town to escape. Bottles of liqour, stuffed with flaming rags, were hurled into the village. The glass smashed loudly on the stone houses, sending a shower of flame onto the straw roofs. They burned quickly, spewing columns of black smoke into the sky and raining embers onto the greenery below, threatening to catch that as well. Thieves poured from the cellars by the dozen, waving daggers and bows, hoping to stomp out whatever attacker was upon them. But thieves aren't warriors and were no match for the mercenaries that swarmed the small village. Especially not when those low level mercs were led by a deadly force like the Boars.

         The plan was simple. If The Earl was the only person killed, it'd look suspicious. However, if the entire town of Eastdrift was torched to the ground, including the little mansion which overlooked it, then no one would bat an eye. So, once the invasion was underway, Kanabo broke away from the crowd, bringing two of his men with him, and stormed the mansion. There were no guards, nor were there any traps, as The Earl expected honor among thieves. The only problem was, as soon as Alorna's convoy showed up, the mansion had been deserted. Not even the servants remained and certainly not the target of this little invasion.

         Kanabo didn't falter though. He charged up the small staircase and kicked the door to the study off its hinges. As he looked around at the many bookshelves, each one bowing under the weight of all the priceless manuscripts placed upon them, his eyes lit up. Alorna had informed him of an escape route hidden in the study and told him exactly which shelf it was hidden behind. However, she also told Kanabo to give The Earl a little head start. Lucky for Kanabo, the only thing he enjoyed as much as violence was destruction. So he took his club in hand and swung with glee. Splinters and scraps of paper burst into the air. His companions followed suit, kicking down shelves and smashing them to bits.

         The mercenary made sure to save the tallest shelf for last. It wasn't much taller than the others, and unnoticeably taller once all the rest had been destroyed, but it was definitely the tallest. Kanabo brought his club over his head and brought it down on the top of the shelf. The heavy club tore through the top, knocking books to the ground, busted through the first shelf, then the next, and the next, and the next. Kanabo kicked the side of the thoroughly split shelf, sending one half across the room and revealing a dark shaft with a rope ladder. The mercenary didn't bother with the ladder, opting to simply leap into the shaft, landing heavily at the bottom.

         Kanabo found himself in a tunnel. It was a dark dingy thing carved into the earth. The ceiling was just short enough for Kanabo to have to hunch down as he walked down it, the dirt dry and solid underfoot. At the end of that long tunnel was a man. He was short and wiry, with a face like a weasel. His features were pinched, and his thin lips pushed out in a permanent scowl. A thin line of hair sat on his upper lip and fear in his eye.

         The man clawed at the opposite wall of the tunnel, fumbling around for the rope ladder hanging down it. Unable to catch his breath, he casts an eye over his shoulder. Darkness. He didn't yet know he was being followed, though he'd learn very soon. He scrambled up the ladder, pushing a trapdoor open. And, as he crawled out, he found himself in a small cave looking over the ocean. A salty breeze filled it, the faint smell of smoke mingling with the scent of the sea. And, as he looked around, his heart sunk. He wasn't alone and never would be again.

         Standing at the entrance of the cave are three forms. Two massive men, their shoulders broad, muscles bulging all over their body. They lean against the rocky cave wall, quietly chatting with the third form. A woman. She isn't very tall, the top of her head only reaching halfway up the pair of goliaths' chests. She wore polished steel armor, a sword the length of her arm hanging from her left hip. The pinched faced man didn't pay them much mind, however, for a fourth person sat within the cave, the mere sight of whom striking a paralyzing fear into the little weasel.

         She sat upon a small rock, one long chocolate colored leg crossed over the other, both hugged by sheer black stalkings. Her arms are folded, just under her massive bust, which her luxurious silky dress struggled to contain. She had a slender neck, which lead to a sharp chin. Her cheekbones were well pronounced and her ears were sharp as little knives and bogged down with countless earrings made from glittering gold. Her nose was small and ended in a small upturn, as if trying to direct your line of sight to her intense hazel eyes, which seemed to glow a fiery orange. White paint danced across her features, so bright against her dark skin. Hanging on a thin chain around her neck was a polished pendant, in the shape of a birdcage. She was quite possibly the last person this man wished to see in all of the Seven Kingdoms. "Fancy seeing you here," The elf spoke.

         "Alorna," He whispered, his voice shaking violently as it escaped his lips. Alorna's full pouty lips curled into a smirk and she dragged her long tongue across her top row of teeth. The man gulped down the lump forming in his throat and slowly climbed from the trap door, set in the cave floor. The three stood at the entrance end their conversation, turning their full attention to the rarest of sights among the underworld. It would seem that two of the Eight had come face to face.

         "How many times must I warn you, hmmm?" Alorna hummed, raising a brow. The Earl opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He shook his head, heart racing. Alorna rose to her feet. She was quite a tall woman, her heels giving her an extra few inches. She walked slowly in a circle around the small cave, keeping her eyes locked onto The Earl. A delightful jiggle ran through her thick thighs and large rear end with each firm step. Her heavy chest joined in with a lovely bounce, but there wasn't much time to enjoy the sight. An aura of seething rage oozed from her already intimidating presence. She stopped in front of The Earl once more. "I'm not some lowly thief you can take advantage of."

         "Of course not Alorna!" He gasps, finding his voice. "I-I-I know that. I just, just-"

         "You don't seem to know that." She licks her lips slowly. Just then, Kanabo climbs from the open hatch, dragging his heavy club up behind him. He scrambles to his feet, seeing that he's too late to see The Dragon play with her prey, and dusts his leather pants clean of dirt. "But I'll gladly teach you why you don't fuck me over." With that, her hired mercenary raised his heft club and brought it down in one violent arc, putting an end to the King of Thieves. The Earl falls to the ground, a light shooting from his eyes and into the cage hanging from Alorna's neck. Silence fills the cave. Alorna takes a moment to take in the sight. She inhales deeply, letting out a relaxed sigh.

         The Slaver waves her hand and Mortar rushes in to scoop up The Earl, lugging him away, Brick and Aanlyn in tow. Kanabo has a big grin on his face, chuckling as he swings his club a few times, reveling in the thrill of his kill. Alorna seemed to be doing the same. She didn't do anything more than stand there, her arms still folded around her ribs, but her chest rose and fell quite a few beats faster than usual. Her thick chocolate kiss nipples pressed against the inside of her dress, creating a small nub on each of her heavy breasts for all to see. A new smell joined the scent of flame and sea. The smell of excitement and it poured from Alorna. It would seem the filthy dark elf enjoyed the sight of blood, making her special payment to Kanabo all that much easier.

         The two didn't exchange words, the Mercenary dropping his club with a thud. His eyes ran hungrily over the curvy Alorna. He licked his lips slowly. Alorna slid her dress from her shoulders, letting it fall free of her chest. Her chest was held up in a snug satin bra, the top of her bust spilling freely from it. She gave the hem of her dress a tug, pulling it down her wide hips and letting it fall down her long legs into a small pile around her golden heels. Slaying a Crime Boss was a risky job and came with a high price. Of course, Kanabo didn't want money from Alorna, he wanted something much, much more enjoyable.

         The mercenary approached her. He reached around and grabbed a firm handful of her thick ass cheek. Alorna let out a lewd moan as she felt his strong hand, warm with blood as he left a nice print against her dark skin. Despite her place in this world, it didn't seem Kanabo would be showing her any respect during this. He wrapped her long hair around his fist and yanked her head back, making Alorna gasp. She let out a shaky breath of excitement, the mercenary's hand grabbing the front of her bra. He tore it free, her heavy tits bouncing free, and pressed his lips to one.

         He dragged his hot tongue across Alorna's sensitive nipple, sending a shiver down her spine, before biting into the doughy flesh of her milky jug. He snarled, hand striking her fat ass. A loud clap filled the cave as he smacked that ass. "Hah!" Alorna cried out, forced to press her soft tit into his face, smothering him for a moment. Kanabo snickered, using his grip on her hair to roughly force her to her knees. He deftly yanked his trousers open, letting his fat dick swing free. It slapped against Alorna's face, the musky smell of a man filling her nostrils. The usually proud woman didn't hesitate to take hold of his length.

         She took it in both hands, pumping it up and down. She felt it throbbing and pulsing to life, growing to her touch as she took the thick head in her mouth. Alorna slurped lewdly on it, eliciting a moan from the rough merc. She moaned with him, letting her long skilled tongue buzz against his helmet. She pushed forward, taking more of that juicy hog in, gulping down the cock flavored spit that quickly filled her mouth. Kanabo thrust forward. Holding tightly on her hair, he pumps his hips, forcing his fat dick down Alorna's throat. She gags on him, choking as he forces more and more in, but he doesn't let up.

         Hot drool coats his thrusting cock. His nuts slap against Alorna's sharp chin, and her nose bangs against his pelvis with each rough thrust. He panted and moaned, enjoying the feel of her snug throat for a while. Then, grabbing her head with both hands, Kanabo pushes himself all the way down. Alorna feels him fill her throat, her neck bulging with his throbbing meat. Air grows short and she feels tears springing to her eyes. Kanabo simply laughs, enjoying the warmth enveloping his cock, not caring whether or not she can breathe. He groans, tilting his head back, taking a deep breath before shoving her off his cock.

         Alorna falls back on the cave floor, panting for breath, drool running down her chin. The mercenary doesn't let her rest for long. Grabbing her long legs he roughly rolls her onto her stomach. He drops to his knees behind her and grabs those wide hips, pulling them in the air. Alorna whines with pleasure, pushing herself up onto her hands and knees. Kanabo places his hand between her shoulder blades and pushes roughly, forcing her face back into the dirt, her fat ass high in the air. "Ever been fucked like a whore, you filthy elf?" He snarls, ripping her panties free of her body.

         He doesn't wait for an answer. Kanabo pulls his hips back, lining up his spit lubed cock, and slams it into Alorna's tight cunt, which drools with excitement. "Fuuuuuck!" Alorna squeals into the dirt. Kanabo pushes and pushes, forcing his full length into her, stretching her cunt to fit him. His heavy nuts swing between her spread thighs, slapping against her aching clit. He doesn't care if she gets off. To Kanabo, right now Alorna isn't a lady, she's toy and he wants nothing more than to break the proud Elven slut.

         The mercenary pulls back, quickly slamming himself back into her. His body clapping against her fat ass. Her cunt slurps lewdly on him as he begins thrusting. Fast. Hard. The lewd noises fill the cave, echoing off the walls. Alorna's moans and cries of pleasure soon joining them as Kanabo grunts and snarls behind her. His hands grip her hips, fingers sinking into the dark doughy flesh. Thrusting with such force his thighs begin turning pink and then red as they hammer against Alorna. His fat dick twitching throbbing so deep inside her. Drooling hot pre-cum, lubing her cunt as he roughly fucks it into a new shape.

         Kanabo doesn't last long against a woman like Alorna. After abusing her throat, he's given himself a short fuse. Pushing deep into her, his body locks up, teeth clenching as he cums. A hot white cream explodes into the Slaver's body, flooding her. It feels as if he'd saved up days and days of cum just for this. Mostly because he'd done just that. He wanted to flood the proud Crime Boss like she'd never been flooded. He wanted his hot seed to fill her womb and still be able run down her legs. To pool on the ground under her. And, as he pulled from her aching loins, that's exactly what happened.

         Thick, gooey cum spilled from Alorna's stretched body, her tight fuckhole gaped, putting her insides on display. It splatters on the ground between her spread thighs and Alorna gasps and pants for breath. Kanabo lifts a hand from her hip and brings it down on her fat ass, making Alorna yelp. But she didn't yelp nearly as much as what he did next made her cry out.

         Not giving her even a moment's rest, Kanabo lines the fat head of his cock to Alorna's tight asshole. Lubed with cum, he pushes forward. Alorna inhales sharply as she feels it, lifting her head off the ground. She shuts her eyes tight, toes curling as he pushes and pushes into her tight virgin asshole. No one had ever been bold enough to disrespect Alorna's body in such a way. She hadn't had so much as a finger inside of it, but here this filthy mercenary was, shoving his fat cock in her ass. His hot cum coated the way as he pushed and pushed, not giving up until he managed to cram his full length up her ass.

         Alorna opened her mouth, screaming soundlessly as he bottomed out in her. Kanabo pulled back slowly, just to push himself back inside. He worked his hips much slower and gentler as he violated her snug asshole. Stretching it around his massive cock. He wasn't nearly as large as Orakh, the Orc Warlord, but he definitely felt ten times bigger as he worked her fat ass. Pumping slowly, grunting and moaning. Of course, Kanabo's balls were sufficiently drained, so, as he continued to thrust, panting and moaning behind her in ecstasy, he simply counted his strokes. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Kanabo pulled himself free of her ass and stared down, admiring the way it gaped for him. With a snicker he spits a hot glob of spit in her freshly fucked ass before getting to his feet.

         "Pleasure doing business, as always Lady Alorna." He says putting himself away. Alorna doesn't move, still trying to catch her breath, head spinning. Her face pressed to the ground, ass in the air. Kanabo steps in front of her and gives a little bow. "If you need anything from the Boar, please, be sure to contact us." With that the mercenary leaves the cave. He leaves the Slaver lying there, his hot cum drooling from her well-fucked, gaping holes, to recover on her own. And it does take quite some time for Alorna to regain her senses, get dressed once more, and rejoin her convoy.

{DF} Alorna the Dragon ~ Chapter 2

Chapter 2
Special Order

         It wasn't everyday Alorna went to the trouble of personally procuring goods, but there were a few clients that she simply couldn't afford to disappoint. She was expecting an old friend to stroll through the next criminal's bazaar for an order she placed months ago. This woman didn't quite have the reputation that the seasoned slaver had, but those that did know her knew not to cross her. No matter how much influence Alorna had in the criminal world, or the world in general, someone who dealt with demons always had more. Besides, this client could get her hands on certain things no one else could and losing her business would pain Alorna and her collection of rarities.

         The trouble with this order, however, was that you couldn't simply fulfill it early. She needed it at a very specific time and it wasn't the type of slave you could catch and hold onto for months at a time. Alorna's client required a hero, specifically a paladin. While paladins are strong beings, months of imprisonment would lead them to lose their faith in whichever God gave them their power. Without their faith, they're just another goody two-shoe twat with a sword. So, not only did Alorna need to have them at a specific date, but she needed to capture them and force them into submission no more than a week in advance. What a hassle.

         So Alorna walked through the markets of Glimmer, a large titan of a city, with a hood drawn over her head. Brick and Mortar didn't flank her, as they usually did, nor were any of her guards in sight. Alorna hunting for slaves was rare enough, but doing so without any protection was simply unheard of. It wasn't something that had happened in a decade at the very least, when she was new to the game and looking to prove herself. Despite that, Alorna couldn't help but feel excited. Tricking and trapping someone was a rush and not a part of the business she'd done in sometime. In fact, the last time she got her hands dirty with this part of the business was when this very same client placed her last order.

         That one was much easier, however. She needed a large amount of people to sacrifice and bind their souls to the astral plane where they'd be servants to some demon or another. For that job Alorna simply took the brutes under her employ to a small village and... Well, let's just say when the patrolling guards returned, all the villagers had mysteriously disappeared. Quite the mystery that's sprung many legends about various curses placed upon the village. Quite the tragedy really.

         Alorna knew finding a paladin would be easy. Getting them to follow her, even easier. She had a slight worry that they would try to start a fight with her before she could lead them to the trap, however. That would cause some problems, so Alorna walked with purpose. She didn't wander for a even a moment, knowing every twist and turn to take before she was in the center of the market. She reached a storefront and pushed the door open, the bell above it jingling as she entered. A small dusty potions shop lay before her. Candles lit the room very dimly and sunlight struggled to make it through the dirty window. A small bald man stood behind a mahogany counter chattering with a customer.

         He gives Alorna a nod of acknowledgment as she enters, but continues his sale. Alorna walks around the store for a moment, waiting impatiently, inspecting the various jars of ingredients. She lets her long nails dance along the tops, listening to the quiet clink as they tap against the glass. Staring into the jars, Alorna truly isn't sure what any of these things might be. She'd never gotten into the potions game, though not out of disinterest. She's simply always had brew-masters at her disposal and never saw the need to learn it herself. The quiet, unmistakable sound of coins being exchanged rings through Alorna's ear, followed by the sound of the customer before her leaving the store.

         "Might I be able to help ya miss?" The bald man rattles, his voice raspy. Alorna turns to the man and removes her hood. His eyes open wide, heart nearly stopping as he comes face to face with the Dragon. He sputters and stutters and can't seem to get any words out, round face turning red. "Lady Alorna!" He hisses. "My-my-my sincerest apologies! Had I known, If I did... know it were you I woulda shooed that customer right away! I'd never, never, never make you wait like that, Lady Alorna!" A smile comes to the Slavers face as she enjoys how flustered he is from just meeting her gaze, enjoying the fear in his eye.

         "Be silent," She commands, walking to the counter, her heels clacking loudly on the wood floors below. She places her hands upon the counter and runs an eye over the shelf behind the counter, bogged down with hundreds of vials, bottles, and flasks of glowing liquid. "I need a few things from you. Aphrodisiac, invisibility, and two shots of liquid courage." He swallows hard and nods his little head, turning and rushing to the back room. Alorna leans over and peers through the door. The man is rustling around chests and cabinets and checking double checking and triple checking shelves. He grabs two large flasks and two small vials before coming back to the counter setting them all down before the slaver.

         "Free uh charge, Lady Alorna," He says breathlessly, his hands shaking as she stares him down. Alorna tugs her hood back over her head with a sigh. She grabs the two flasks and a vial, placing them gently in her bag. She then pushes the remaining vial towards the small man.

         "Drink that," She says. "Your cowardice disgusts me." With that Alorna turns and leaves the little shop. Not wanting to disobey an order from such a powerful woman, the little round potion salesman snatches the flask of liquid courage and gulps it down. Alorna casts an eye around the market, adjusting her hood, making sure it hid her face entirely. While she could easily bribe the guards to ignore her presence, she'd prefer to keep her gold in her pocket. There was no doubt in her mind the guardsmen of Glimmer knew her face. So, satisfied with her hood placement, Alorna began walking. She followed the road towards the Eastern gate.

         It was the longest way out of town and she'd be walking for some time, but it was the only one that passed by the temple. If she was going to ensnare a paladin, she'd need to not only pass by that temple, but actually go inside. The sheer thought of entering that building made her stomach turn. The stoic and intimidating woman was no fool and had no doubt that there were definitely gods presiding over the world. If they were keeping an eye on any place, it'd be within their temples. Alorna had done many bad things in her life. While she didn't specifically target those that worship gods, she'd surely done plenty of things to offend plenty of deities.

         With hopes that her offers to Karma, the goddess of luck, were enough to keep her protected for what little time she intended to spend inside, Alorna entered the temple. Immediately she felt as if she were being watched. As if a thousand eyes bore down on her all at once, watching her every move, counting her every breath. There was no one else in the entryway, but Alorna knew she wasn't simply alone. Alorna dug the small vial from her bag and flicked the cork off with a long nailed thumb. It popped free and the bitter liquid silver potion was in her belly before the stopper hit the polished stone floors. She gave a shiver, inhaled deeply, and continued walking.

         The pews creaked as she passed and the ground felt as if it were rumbling, but none of the other temple goers seemed to notice. She steels herself, the liquid courage warming her insides, and made her way up to the raised portion of the temple, where the small shrines to each god were set up in a semi-circle. Alorna makes her way to Karma's shrine. Karma is a flashy goddess, her shrine the only one made of precious metals. A mixture of bronze, silver, and gold, polished well enough to see your reflection, are bent and formed into the shape of a rabbit's head. The head sits in a small square basin which is filled with precious gems.

         Alorna frees a small bag, about the size of a fist, from her belt and gives it a shake. She opens it and turns it over above the rabbit. A rainbow of gem shards rains over the little effigy, pooling in the already full basin below. While not many people offered Karma their undivided worship, everyone with half a brain made an offering to the luck goddess. You'd be a fool not to. Alorna was one of the few that didn't bother with the rest of the gods. She reached out and rubbed the ears of the rabbit, which shone even brighter than the rest of it, and gave a silent thanks for the continued luck in her life.

         "In need of a little luck?" Someone inquired. Alorna moved her head ever so slightly, gazing at the other person out of the corner of her eye. A young man, but a man nonetheless. He wore heavy steel armor, a massive claymore secured to his back. A large shield hung along with it, no doubt embossed with the same lion sigil that rested on the chest of his armor. Despite his heavy arms, he truly didn't look to be much. Pale skin, splashed with freckles. Close cropped brown hair and dark blue eyes. Probably just finished his training, hasn't even seen any action. Alorna knew what he was and he knew what she was... to an extent.

         Making such a large offering to Karma paired with the hood was a look that only a certain brand of person took on. And it didn't take a genius to know he was a paladin. Just what she needed. Alorna offered a smile, still not turning towards him, and reached into her satchel. "Mine has begun to run out, so I figured I'd come and make sure I was still in Lady Karma's good graces," She explained. The slaver fished a large ruby from her satchel and pressed it into the man's palm. "Everyone could use a little extra luck. Rubies are said to bring you good fortune on the battlefield, warrior." The man eyed her suspiciously, but didn't stop her as she turned and left the temple.

         Stage one of her plan, don't get smited, was complete! As well as stage two, attracting the attention of a paladin. As she left the temple, Alorna took note of the woman in similar armor, with similar markings, of a similar age standing in the courtyard. She didn't seem to notice Alorna, leaning against a wall and staring ahead with a blank expression, clearly lost in thought. Alorna walked slowly, rejoining the crowded streets as the temple doors opened once more. The slaver kept a steady pace, making her way to the Eastern gates. Banking on her fresh offering to Lady Karma and the liquid courage, Alorna makes her way passed the guards and through the gates without a hitch.

         Brick saw the black stallion that belonged to Alorna trotting down the path towards where he had set up camp, as he was instructed. He was surprised to see her back so soon, especially without a paladin in tow. The bodyguard got to his feet and dusted the dirt from his iron leggings, making sure he was presentable as his employer grew closer and closer. Alorna had never failed to capture a slave before, she had a natural talent for it, so Brick really didn't know what to say as she climbed from her steed. He offered a hand, making sure she didn't roll an ankle hopping from a horse in a pair of heels, and gave her a moment to steady herself on the ground.

         Alorna swept her hood from her head and before she could say a word was met with a triumphant, "Ah-ha!" Brick snapped to attention, grabbing the hilt of his blade. Alorna rolled her eyes and turned towards the voice. The pair of paladins from the temple emerged from surrounding trees. The man had an excited, almost crazed look in his eye, proud he managed to track Alorna like this. The woman didn't look quite as excited. A sleepy look seemed to be her permanent expression, almost as if she were bored of her work. "I knew it! You, you're Alorna the Dragon!" The man boomed, pointing an accusing finger her direction. Alorna raised her eyebrows, waiting a moment.

         "Is that all?" She sighed, reaching into her satchel. Alorna pulled a square of silk fabric, balling it up in her hand.

         "I, uh, no! We're paladins and, under the authority of Intrepidity, we're going to arrest you for the crimes you've committed against the Seven Kingdoms!" Brick took that as his cue to draw his sword and step in front of Alorna. The polished steel of his sword glittered in the sunlight. The paladins each drew their own weapons, the man a claymore and the woman a long sword. She sprung forward, clashing with Brick. With a few quick, calculated strikes she managed to push him back, forcing him to separate from Alorna. The slaver didn't seem too worried that she was left without a bodyguard. The man started forward, holding his claymore threateningly.

         Alorna didn't move, staring him down. His jaw tensed and he swallowed hard. It was clear, unlike his companion, the man had never been in an actual fight. Alorna, however, had been in more than most generals and had brought men greater than him to their knees. Assuming she wouldn't fight back, the man lowered his blade, walking closer with more confidence. He reached out, to snatch her arm, but Alorna was too quick. Her movements were simple. With a step to the right, she moved away from his grasp and brought him within her reach. Alorna pressed the silk cloth to her nose, making sure to cover her mouth as well, and brought her other hand around. The paladin only got a moment's look at what was coming. Within her hand was a flask of glowing pink liquid. He hadn't any time to figure out what exactly it was as it smashed against his chest piece, Alorna's many rings clattering against the steel armor.

         The liquid hit the air and burst forth into a thick cloud around the duo. Alorna slunk back, out of the cloud where the man choked and gagged on the gas and removed the cloth from her face, placing it back in her satchel. Meanwhile Brick dueled with the woman. She was fast, but he was powerful. With a lucky swing his blade struck her sword at the very base and sent it flying from her hands. He didn't waste a moment, clasping a massive hand around the woman's slender neck and pinning her against a large tree behind. The tree shook as she slammed back against it and the woman let out a lewd, "Haahn," her cheeks flushing red. Brick couldn't help but smirk.

         The cloud cleared, the paladin on the ground shaking, breathing short and fast breaths. He stared up at Alorna with wide eyes, drool spilling from his lips. "Aphrodisiac is a volatile concoction," Alorna explained. She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "Even the slightest spark will ignite it and turn it to a gaseous cloud. Inhale that cloud and it acts as a paralysis, while still driving your sex drive wild. It's slated as cruel and unusual and thus those that train guards, armies, and paladins aren't allowed to force their students to build a tolerance to it." A grin came to Alorna's lips as she stared down at the man. No matter how much training he'd done, or the fact that he was the head of his class, he had been outmatched. Sheer brute force couldn't overcome a woman like Alorna. Thwarting do-gooders was simply a second nature for the crime boss.

         "What'll we do with this one, Lady Alorna?" Brick grunted. Alorna glanced back and waved her hand over her shoulder dismissively.

         "Didn't you break your toy just recently, Brick? You can have her, I have no use for two paladins." Brick grinned at the woman. He grabbed the collar of her armor and gave a firm pull. The leather straps which secured it in place snapped as if they were nothing and the chest-plate came free. Beneath was a dark red top hugging her body. The woman didn't seem too upset about what Brick intended to do to her. In fact, she almost seemed happy to be whisked away from the life of a paladin. Brick stripped the woman of the rest of her armor, leaving her in just a snug pair of boy shorts, her top, and her boots. He secured her sword to his own belt and slung her paralyzed partner over his shoulder. The woman didn't struggle or try to run, instead simply walking beside the Slaver and her bodyguard as they headed back to their actual camp. The man was stripped of his weapons and armor and tossed in a cage, the woman brought to Brick's tent.

         The next morning came slowly. Starry blue sky broke to a brilliant orange-red, the twin suns raising over the horizon. Titan, the larger of the duo, burned bright. Archimedes was much smaller, orbiting the star like a planet. As light spilled over the camp, few people stirred. Lazy, those criminals. The poachers returned with their catches for the day and brought the meat to those that cooked for the massive camp. Assistants to the more renown criminals ran around, preparing things for their masters. The Stable Masters switched out, allowing the one who guarded at night to head off for some food and then sleep. Alorna's encampment was truly like a small town.

         Brick stirred, the warmth of his new slave lying against his body. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked down at her, admiring her body for a moment. She was a nice shade of mocha, her body toned as a warrior's should be. Her legs were thick with powerful muscle, her ass large from having to store all the fat in her body. She had a slender waist and a toned muscular tummy, her abs nicely defined. Her breasts were a generous handful. She had a nice face, one not from this Kingdom. Her jaw was rounded and lips full. She had a small nose that upturned much the same as Alorna's. Brick wondered if she might be from the same Kingdom as his employer, but not all of her features lined up. Namely, the lack of sharp ears and sharpness in general.

         "Aanlyn," He grunted, running a large hand through her short sandy blonde hair. "It's time for you breakfast." The paladin woman stirred, with a small groan.

         "Does my breakfast look a lot like your cock?" She muttered. Brick smirked. Aanlyn sat up and stretched. She adjusted her new collar, still getting used to the feeling of wearing it and looked around the tent. Brick grabbed her collar and roughly pulled, forcing her face down by her crotch. She released a pleasant moan, enjoying being manhandled in such a way, and took his large cock in her mouth with complaint. It wasn't quite hard yet, with only morning stiffness. Aanlyn bobbed her head, soft lips running up and down the length. She'd spent the day before becoming acquainted with its size and could easily take the entire thing into her mouth.

         It kept growing as she blew him, hardening on her tongue. She made sure to take his large nuts in her hand, massaging them. She could feel just how full they were, despite draining them time and time again just hours before. She didn't know how he produced so much so quickly, but she wasn't complaining. Aanlyn moaned, letting it slide down her throat. Hot spit ran down Brick's fat cock as she choked herself on it. He lay back groaning, giving his hips a lazy pump every so often, eliciting a loud gag from her. With a smirk, Brick grabbed her by the hair and held her in place. He humped wildly, forcing his cock down her throat, turning her mocha cheeks red and making her big brown eyes water.

         He pulled her free and tossed her to the side. Aanlyn sit on her knees, drool all over chin and dripping sloppily onto her breasts as she gasped for breath. She panted staring at Brick as he got up, his large cock standing at attention. He grabbed her by the collar and pulled her back over to him, standing beside the bed roll. Aanlyn opened her mouth wide, letting her tongue loll out as he pushed back in. She did her best to suck on him as he face fucked her so roughly, holding onto her collar for leverage. Throat bulging with her breakfast. Brick didn't keep that position for long, pulling free of her mouth and pushing her onto the ground. He got on her knees at her feet and flipped her over, grabbing her by the hips and pulling that fat ass into the air.

         Without even a moment to prepare Brick thrust forward, cramming the entirety of his spit-lubed cock up her ass. "Nyah!" Aanlyn screamed her moan, ass stretching to fit him. Brick chuckled, staying planted deep up her ass for a moment, letting her feel his size. He gaze her thick cheek a swat, leaving a nice sized handprint. Aanlyn whined, pushing back against him. He planted a hand on the back of her head, holding her face to the ground as he began thrusting. Loud clapping could be heard from outside the tent. Brick's muscualr thighs smacking Aanlyn's round ass with plenty of force, pounding her tight asshole into a new shape.

         Aanlyn was in heaven. She loved being overpowered. After spending a year as a powerful paladin, it was nice to get fucked into the dirt like a common whore. She wasn't a warrior any longer. Being a toy for this nasty criminal was her new life. And, as those thoughts flooded her head, Aanlyn couldn't help herself. She came, hard. Juices gushes from her aching drooling cunt, squirting all over, making a mess of their thighs. Brick grunted and panted, pounding her ass, but felt himself getting close to finishing. He pulled out off her and yanked her back to her knees by the hair. Brick took hold of Aanlyn's long sword and turned her around, holding between her face and his cock. He wrapped his hand around his length and began stroking, fast, milking his cock.

         Powerful ropes of hot cum shot forth. The splattered across Aanlyn's face and coated the blade. Shot after shot, Brick disgraced the Paladin and the blade she swore to protect all that is good with. He emptied his balls all over the two of them. Aanlyn didn't do anything to stop this disrespectful act. Instead she sat on her knees, mouth open, tongue out, catching as much as she could in her mouth. Then she leaned forward and dragged her tongue along the cold steel, licking up the hot seed of her master.

         "Aren't Paladins supposed to be strong willed?" Alorna prodded from the tent's entrance. The pair jumped, clearly startled, and looked to the slaver, who stood with folded arms. She cocked an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by what she walked in on. "Brick, we have business." He cleared his throat and nodded, jumping up, beginning to walk towards her. Alorna holds up a hand, halting him. "Get. Dressed." With that she turns and exits. Aanlyn watches as Brick rushes around the tent, tugging on his clothes and armor as fast as he could. She laughed, despite being the one on her knees coated in cum. He shot her a glare.

         "Aren't Paladins supposed to be strong willed?" He repeated Alorna's question.

         "They are, but I'm a Paladin of Intrepidity, the God of War. He favors might overall and wouldn't mind me serving a strong warrior, like yourself," Aanlyn explained, using a cloth to wipe the mess from her body. Brick blushed and nodded, leaving the tent. Alorna stood there beside Mortar, who had the similar look of shame Brick held. She must have walked in on him this morning as well. That woman should wear a bell during the mornings. Alorna led them to the cage with the Paladin man within. The guard saw her coming and quickly unlocked it, opening the door so Alorna wouldn't have to break her stride.

         Within was the disheveled paladin, slowly recovering from the Aphrodisiac. He looked up at Alorna and whispered a word of power. His eyes flashed gold and he looked upon her. From his eyes he saw the form of the slaver, but he couldn't see Brick or Mortar behind her. Instead a rich black aura emanated from the woman, the aura of evil and malice. Whatever Alorna had planned for him, it wasn't good. He gulped, staring up at her. "What'll you do to me?" He whispered, voice shaky.

{DF} Alorna The Dragon ~ Chapter 1

Chapter 1
The Orc's Brides

         Alorna was an elf. Not your typical elf, have you, but definitely one of Elven descent. She had dark skin, a nice shade of chocolaty brown that would surely melt in your mouth, and her sharp ears were adorned with many shining gold piercings. Small golden balls ran along the outer ridge of them and lead to three rings clipped into her ear lobes. Her long slender fingers were stacked with rings of various metal with various gemstones embedded within, and a heavy looking ruby ball was stamped into her long tongue. Besides the darker skin and taste for expensive jewelry, Alorna also didn't share the sleek body that made elves such elusive targets. She had a much fuller figure. Her long legs were thick leading all the way up to a juicy fat ass. Her hips sat wide on either side of her slender waist and her breasts stuck far from her body, as if someone had sliced a large melon in half and pressed them to her chest. Her chin was sharp, almost as sharp as her ears, and her nose turned upwards at the very end. White paint danced in an intricate design across her cheeks, making her hazel eyes glow a fiery orange. Her lips were full, pouty, and in a permanent grin. Not a friendly grin, mind you, but a devious one.

         You see, despite the fact that Alorna carried herself with the presence of a Queen, she wasn't royal. She wasn't Nobility, nor was she even a good person really. Alorna was a slaver and a notorious one at that. Because for every grandiose story you hear about a noble hero saving the kingdoms and thwarting evil, there's ten stories of evil prevailing. There's a hundred stories about the seedy underbelly of that fantastical world and the proceedings of it's residents and Alorna tended to have a large part in quite a number of those stories.

         One such story begins on a damp and dreary morning. The sky decided it wasn't going to brighten to its brilliant shade of blue and instead stayed mushy gray, the clouds threatening to let loose a torrent that would end any and all of Alorna's business for the day. Having a reputation like hers was helpful when dealing in business, but it also meant she couldn't simply set up shop in the middle of a bazaar. So she planted her tent in the mud just a few moment's walk from town and stood with folded arms watching her lackeys set up shop for the day. It was a simple set up. A small round table with four chairs all around it. A clay tea-pot, which was currently empty, sat in the middle of the table and a deck of cards sat before Alorna's seat. The Slaver's actual stable of slaves were nowhere to be seen. Of course there were a handful of prime, er, 'merchandise' in the tent, sat around waiting for customers, but other than that Alorna's stock was off site.

         Brick and Mortar, Alorna's body guards, stood by her side, as they always did. They were large slabs of men, their biceps the size of most men's chests. Regardless of reputation, a woman in a business like this simply needed to have guards on standby. There was bound to be more than one person that gets the idea to try and rough Alorna up, or worse, and it was extremely unladylike to stain her hands with blood. Besides, Alorna was a boss of this kingdom's underworld, and bosses don't bother with low level trash like that. So Brick and Mortar were in her employ and they were proud to be able to boast about being guards to Alorna the Dragon. She was given the title 'Dragon' because of her tendency to hoard gold, gems, and trinkets of interest. It wasn't the most clever of titles, but most criminals weren't clever.

         With a sigh, Alorna extended her arms to either side. Brick and Mortar both knelt down, taking her arms over their shoulders and each taking hold of a long shapely leg. They stood up, lifting her and carrying her to her seat, setting her in it gently. Alorna propped her feet up on a small crate below the table, keeping her heels, which looked to be made of solid gold, off the muddy ground. She took the stack of cards in her hands as Brick and Mortar took their seats on either side of her, and began shuffling them, eyes scanning the growing bazaar like a hawk.

         Since criminals couldn't just set up in the cities, they went over near the forest, just outside the guardsmen's jurisdiction, and set up their own. Merchants of every sort set up, many travelling around the Kingdoms in a convoy with Alorna herself. Slavers, poachers, sell-swords, and just about every other criminal in the area. Most criminal bazaars were small, only three or four people set up at once, but when a crime boss showed up, so did everyone else. People would travel for days to get to meet with Alorna, and while they were around they were bound to buy a thing or two from someone else.

         Alorna paid no mind as a small man ran over to her with a pot of steaming liquid. He was young, and had a certain fear in his eyes that Alorna enjoyed. The poison master's apprentice. He removed the lid of Alorna's empty teapot and began pouring a sweet smelling, green tinged liquid into it. Thick tendrils of steam wafted out, pouring from the spout of the pot and disappearing into the air. The man replaced the lid of her teapot, gave a sheepish nod, and ran off to whichever stall he'd come from. Brick took the pot and poured the smallest amount of liquid out into a cup. He swirled it around a few times and dumped it down his gullet. He gave a shiver, wincing, clearly displeased with the taste.

         "Just tea, Lady Alorna," He grunted. Alorna nodded and Mortar took the pot, pouring a steaming cup of tea and gently setting it before her. Alorna didn't speak, she rarely spoke to those she deemed lesser than herself and those employed by her tended to fall under that category. Instead she simply sat in silence, idly shuffling her cards. She was expecting a very important client today and if he didn't show up she'd be in quite the bind. He wasn't one whom paid in gold, but instead in something Alorna couldn't otherwise get her hands on. In this case, an Orc Warlord was making his way to her with a few bottles of his people's brandy. It was rare for anyone without orcish blood to posses even a glass of the stuff, much less an entire bottle. Alorna didn't intend on drinking it, that'd be a waste. She'd keep a bottle in her reserves as a show piece, and use the rest to complete another trade. But if this lazy orc didn't get his ass to her stall, Alorna would have to pay a visit to his little stronghold and that wasn't something anyone wanted.

         The criminals of the Kingdom began trickling out of the cracks in the ground, the bazaar getting very busy very quickly. Few people came to Alorna's tables and the majority of those that did were other vendors offering her some food, drink, or the like. Alorna's stock was exotic and exotic stock meant exotic prices. Most of those that came to the bazaar simply couldn't afford her slaves.

         As midday rolled around, there was a commotion in the crowd. Loud yelps and complaints which were quickly silenced when they saw just who they were about to berate or yell at. A massive beast of a man flanked by four men of similar stature. He was dressed in pelts of various slain beasts and bright pink scars coated his arms and chest. His skin was forest green, as his maw had a sharp tusk like fang jutting out of his lower jaw. The crowd parted as the Orc Warlord and his band made their way towards Alorna, hushed whispers following them. All other business stopped around them as everyone watched in awe, wanting to see these two powerhouses of the criminal world conduct business. Brick and Mortar rose from their seats and took a step back, both standing behind their employer.

         Alorna cocked an eyebrow, raising from her seat. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten your appointment, dear," Alorna spoke, her voice gliding smoothly through the air. She held out a limp wristed hand, offering it to Orakh with a smirk. There was definitely a dangerous air about the woman that made the Warlord's men shuffle uncomfortably. They couldn't quite place the feeling, but something about her presence told them to be on their absolute best behavior. Offending Alorna could possibly be more dangerous than offending their esteemed leader.

         The Warlord, Orakh, took Alorna's dainty hand in his massive one, making sure to be gentle, and brought it to his lips, laying a kiss on the back of it. "I would never miss a meeting with you, Lady Alorna," He grunted. Alorna withdrew her hand and sat, Orakh taking the seat across from her. The chair creaked and whined under the massive warrior, but managed to hold itself together. He glanced back at his men and two of them stepped forward, each placing two rough spun sacks upon the table. Orakh took hold of one and pulled the potato sack like material down to reveal the glassy surface of a bottle. "From our stronghold's distillery. And..." A third orc rushed forward and placed another bag, much the same as the rest, in Orakh's hands. Orakh passed the bag to Alorna. "A bottle from my own personal reserves. That one is a gift, from me to you, as an apology for being late."

         "You shouldn't have," Alorna offered as she pulled the bottle from its bag. She held it up to what little sunlight was pushing through the clouds and stared at the blood red liquid within. The brandy in this bottle was a much more vibrant color, and she could almost smell it through the glass. Her long tongue slide out and licked her pouty lips. "Beautiful," She whispered. Placing the bottle back in the bag she clicked her fingers. Brick and Mortar stepped forward, taking the four from the table as Alorna rose to her feet once more. She curled a finger, beckoning Orakh, and only Orakh, to follow her into the tent. He too rose and followed behind the curvy Slaver.

         Within the tent was the sweet smelling smoke of a burning hookah. The ground was piled high with plush pillows, a handful of slaves sitting around. These lucky few were the ones most valuable to Alorna. The ones that would catch the highest price or were already reserved for a valued client. These were those that Alorna couldn't afford to entrust to the degenerates that looked after the rest of her stable. Alorna clicked her fingers again and four of the girls hopped to their feet. Orakh eyed them hungrily, inspecting their bodies, which were all fully exposed. The only covered skin on them was their necks, where heavy leather collars wrapped around.

         "To your liking?" Alorna inquired with a raised eyebrow. His eyes lingered on them for a moment. "I assure you, all of these ladies come from strong stock and won't be broken easily, my dear. Your men can put them through hell and back and they'll still be able to take more."

         "They're not exactly breeding stock," He grunted.

         "What human is?" Alorna chuckled. "These four are toys, simple as that. I assumed that's what you wanted, as mere humans wouldn't, nay shouldn't be allowed to carry the young of fierce warriors like you and your men. Am I wrong?" Orakh cleared his throat and shook his head.

         "No, never Lady Alorna," He assured her. "But we are at war. Orc Women are warriors, many much more valuable on the battlefield than their male counterparts, you see? We need to bolster our ranks and can't afford to put true orc women out of commission while they bare children. We need women of a higher caliber. We need women like you, Lady Alorna." Alorna couldn't help but laugh, casting a gaze to Orakh.

         "As much as I'd enjoy spending a night or two with you and yours, women like me aren't slaves. But I suppose I could find something that may better fit your needs. Of course, with all the trouble I'm going to, a few bottles of booze may not be enough payment. I'd only be able to get you a single woman for that price, you see?" Orakh raised an eyebrow staring down at the woman. He could crush her right here and now if he so pleased, but there was something about this woman that stayed his hand. He'd heard many stories about Alorna the Dragon and none of them ended with whomever wronged her coming out on top. And all of them made it very clear that you do not want to bargain with or be indebted to Alorna. She made demons seem like push overs. So instead Orakh did what he knew he had to in order to stay on this woman's good side.

         "I'll take these women," He said, waving his hand at them. "But I'll still need breeding stock." He pauses for a moment. Then sighs and adds, "Name your price, Lady Alorna."

         "As I said, slaves aren't worthy to join your family. I'd have to find you some brides, ones that won't muddle your powerful name and may produce worthy children for the orcish legion, no?" Orakh nods in agreement. "You know, Lord Orakh... being on the right side of history is quite the valuable thing." A shiver runs down the Orc's spine as Alorna addresses him as 'Lord'. A pleasantry the slaver offers no one. "You and your men are making quite a name for yourselves in the seven kingdoms. I wouldn't be surprised if you were successful in your conquest. Perhaps I could... introduce you to some brides who will surely bare strong children and, once you've brought the silly humans that run this Kingdom to their knees... Well maybe there will be a castle with my name on it. No? Maybe that castle over looks a cute little village under my rule and your protection. You know it helps to have someone with my connections within your court, don't you think?"

         This sounded like he would be in Alorna's debt and it sounded like he would for a very, very long time. So, as much as he'd like to refuse, Orakh grunted and gave a nod. "So be it." And it was. Once the warlord and his men departed with their newly acquired slaves, Alorna sent word to her stable master. Getting women that fit the bill of an orc's bride was no trouble for the slaver, regardless of how difficult she may have told Orakh it would be. In fact, she already had plenty of stock that would work perfectly for such job just waiting to be loaded into a cart and sent off to the Orc Stronghold.

         Alorna ordered her Stable Master to get them ready. Make sure they were clean and well groomed. Their collars were removed and soothing creams were massaged into their skin to rid them of any marks the leather may have left. Then they were put into a very nice carriage, pulled by two beautiful stallions, and brought to meet Alorna just outside of Orakh's stronghold. Alorna herself lay in her own carriage. The inside was much the same as her tent, the entire wooded floor covered in large plush pillows. Alorna lay upon those pillows lounging, awaiting her client to enter. Orakh and a small group of his warriors came out of the stronghold to meet with Brick and Mortar, who helped unload the brides.

         One by one they came out, each more impressive than the last, each from a far off kingdom. First came a couple of snow elves. They were short, standing only as tall as Brick and Mortar's chests, and their bodies were built for cold weather. A little extra weight on their bones which formed delicious curves. Their hair was white and their eyes seemed to glow bright blue. Next a woman from the Amazon. Though the Amazonians were normally fierce warrior women, this one was docile. She smiled kindly and stood shyly beside the elves. She towered above the duo and was even taller than the slaver's guards and orc warriors. Guaranteed to bring forth strong spawn. The last girl climbed out of the carriage clumsily. Her feet hit the ground in the form of hooves, legs coated in shaggy brown fur and thick muscle. The fur stopped about halfway up a massive thigh to reveal silky smooth brown skin. Her stomach was bare and toned, muscles well defined in the flesh and her breasts were the largest any of the orcs had ever seen. They looked to be even larger than a man's head. Upon the woman's head were two large horns, the tips sharp and shining in the sunlight. A Minotaur.

         "Lady Alorna would like to speak with you, Lord Orakh," Brick grunted, gesturing to Alorna's carriage. Orakh nodded and headed over. He pulled the doors open and climbed in to find Alorna, sitting at the very back of the carriage, leaning against the wall with her long chocolate legs stretched out in front of her. Her large breasts hang free, thick brown nipples pierced with golden bars, a sapphire stud in her navel. Orakh tried not to look at the slaver's bare body, but simply couldn't help himself. The way her thick thighs pressed together, hiding her loins from view drew the eye. He could pratically smell the sex wafting off of Alorna and it made his mouth almost water.

         "Close the door," Alorna commanded. "Come to me." Orakh gulped heavily, but did as she said, making his way over to her, having to tilt his head down as to not hit the roof of the carriage. Alorna sat up on her knees, and ran her hands along Orakh's abs. She bit a lip, looking up at him, hands working the many belts that secured his armor to him. "I am a woman, Lord Orakh, and I have a fire within me like any other woman," She whispered. "But what am I to do? Offer myself to those lower than me?"

         "Of course not, Lady Alorna," He grunted, seeing where this was going. He watched as Alorna freed him from his confines. The armor fell with a quiet thud, the pillows below muffling the sound. His dark green member fell free, falling heavily before Alorna. She ran her hands over Orakh's thighs, admiring his cock for a moment before taking hold of it. One hand cupped his heavy hanging balls, the other lifting the heavy length of dark green meat. The strong scent of a man filled the small room, taking over Adorna's senses. She gulped down some hot spit, stroking it slowly, watching the way it moved and reacted to her touch. Plenty of women had handled Orakh, but none had made him feel the way Alorna did.

         Her touch sent electricity through his body, every slight movement driving him mad. He could feel himself getting hard, growing for her. Normally he'd need to be down a wench's throat, overpowering her for that to happen, but somehow Alorna was making it happen so easily. For the first time in his life, the woman was in charge and Orakh was just a tool for her to get off with. Had it been any other woman making him feel this way, Orakh would take control back in an instant, but since it was Alorna he let her do as she pleased. "I need power. A Lord, a King, and those with that sort of power may only be allowed to touch my body. To feel me touch theirs." She whispered.

         Leaning forward, Alorna planted her lips firmly at the end of his hard cock. She kissed, feeling the heat coming off of it, letting him feel her hot breath. She pushed forward, letting her soft lips part around them, dragging across his sensitive head, her long tongue swirling around. The ruby stud in her tongue pressed against him and made Orakh jerk involuntarily, his body tensing as she teased him. He groaned, embarrassed at what she could do to him. Alorna smiled sucking gently. She moved rhythmically, up and down, pushing more and more of his meaty sage shaft in her mouth. Her loins ached, she hadn't had a man in quite some time, but she didn't want to rush things along.

         Alorna let drool run from her lips. She wiggled, pushing him down her throat, hazel eyes staring up at the warlord. She kept pushing, quiet gags escaping her throat as she took the entire length in. Her nose pressed to his pelvis, her throat bulging with meat, and she held there for a moment. Not long enough to get all teary eyed, but long enough to impress Orakh. She pulled back, slurping loudly as she pulled him free of her mouth, hand working that spit lubed shaft. She kissed down the underside of his shaft to the big hanging nuts, filled with the hot orc seed of a warmonger. She took a heavy nut in her mouth, sucking deeply on it. Sloppy spit squelching as she stroked quickly, up and down his hard shaft, Alorna switched to the other nut, making sure to give it plenty of love.

         Alorna let it fall from her mouth with a 'pop', and sat back, fat ass on her heels as she stared up at Orakh. He didn't need her to tell him what she wanted. From just a look, Orakh quickly sat before Alorna, who gracefully climbed in his lap. She pressed her crotch to his shaft, letting the thick meat part her pert lips as she rolled her hips, grinding upon it. Alorna closed her eyes, working herself up, letting her loins drool for him. Orakh took her large breasts in hand and kneaded firmly, forcing a long lust filled moan from Alorna. With a grin he leaned in and took a thick nipple in his mouth, tongue playing with the golden bar as he sucked her big tit.

         Alorna couldn't take it anymore. She lifted herself from his lap and sat right back down. His thick head pushed deep inside her and the slaver inhaled sharply. "Mnnnnn," She let out a whine, moaning for the Warrior. His fat cock stretched her snug hole as it tried to fit his massive size. Alorna felt herself losing the ever-present noble presence she had as it was replaced with that of a common whore. Her large ass pressed down against Orakh's thighs and he was inside her. All the way, so deep inside her. And she could feel every throb, every pulse, every inch of his cock violating her body. She rolled her hips, enjoying it.

         Alorna bounced slowly, lips hugging him tightly. Her fat chocolate rear bounced and jiggled. She rode, faster, large breasts bouncing in the Orc's face. She pressed them together, long nails digging into her soft flesh, offering them to him. Orakh didn't need another invitation, enjoying rubbing his face in them. Letting his teeth sink into her hard nipples, eliciting such loud and lewd noises from the intimidation Alorna. He placed his large hands on her hips, feeling himself getting closer and closer. He guided Alorna up and down his shaft, which swelled, ready to explode within her. His instincts were telling him to breed her. To pump every drop deep inside this woman and bind her to his clan.

         He pushed deep inside Alorna, letting out loud grunts into her cleavage. A torrent of hot cream pumped into her from below. Her long legs squirmed and she wrapped her arms tight around his head, as they tensed in each other's embrace. It felt like weeks worth of seed was flowing into her, shot after thick shot of potent cum filling her to her absolute limit. Steaming hot seed running down his shaft, down her thighs, onto the pillows below them. Even as he finished, Alorna kept him tight in her grasp. She panted, not yet ready to let go. After a few moments of a lust filled glow the two separated. Alorna lay back in her plush pillows and Orakh got himself dressed once more. He offered thanks to the Slaver, who didn't answer, he eyes closed as she rested her well used body. Orakh departed, rejoining his men within the fort and Brick and Mortar jumped to attention. They began rushing around the carriages, making sure everything was ready to rejoin Alorna's convoy.

         As Brick and Mortar ran around a girl climbed in the back of Alorna's carriage. She had lots and lots of jewelry on her body, much like Alorna. Rings, and earrings, necklaces, pendants, and piercings all filled with valuable gems. Around her neck was a red leather collar, studded with glittering emeralds and atop her head was a bronze circlet. She was human, a very pale human, with rosie cheeks and soft features. She hadn't much in the way of breasts or ass, but made up for it in just how perfect her face seemed to be. She crawled across the pillows in Alorna's carriage and positioned herself between the slavers large chocolate thighs, pressing her lips to the fresh cream-pie within.

         This was the only Slave that Alorna would never sell. Alorna's own personal thing to pleasure her on the road and clean up messes like Orakh had made. Seeing how Alorna would never let just any slave actually touch her, it was safe to say that this girl was special. In fact, if you were from another kingdom, you may just think that this girl struck a very strong resemblance to Princess Ava, who went missing some years ago.

         "Do a good job, my dear. Orakh is a very important man, so don't miss even a drop." The girl blushed and nodded, not daring pull her lips away before her job was done.