Sacrifice - The Departure: Part 3: Under A Pale Eye

by T S Fesseln

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© Copyright 2006 - T S Fesseln - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; D/s; Sbf; bond; gag; collar; hogtie; oral; sex; fantasy; hist; cons; X

(story continues from )

The Departure 
Part 3 Under A Pale Eye

Jarial kept herself curled around the Chosen One until she felt her ward breathing deeply in sleep.  Slowly the Guardian eased herself away from the bound girl and slipped out of bed. Tyraal could not help thinking how lucky of a man he was to have such a beautiful companion as Jarial as she lightly approached him.  The playful smile that she wore betrayed what was in her heart as she curled up beside his chair.

“She is asleep,” Jarial whispered, stroking Tyraal’s leg.

His fingers brushed through her long, dark tresses and could smell the lingering perfume of rose, “She has a long road to travel ahead, as do we.”

Jarial looked up at Tyraal with her blue eyes, “Perhaps you can put me to rest like I have the Chosen One. . .”

Tyraal smiled, “You think so?”

“It is a long journey ahead,” Jarial replied, “and I do need my sleep.”

Jarial’s fingers were already searching for the drawstring for her companion’s leggings.  She knelt between his legs and slowly pulled the knot out.  She could already feel his member was hard and ready and with a sly grin on her face, she began to trace its outline with the tips of her fingers. 

“I should think that you would want your companion to rest for the journey ahead,” Jarial whispered.

Tyraal nodded his head, enjoying the ministrations of his beloved.

Slowly she unlaced the leather drawstring over his manhood.  After undoing several lacings, she folded the flap back to reveal the object of her desire, posed rampant from a nest of light brown curls.  She leaned forward and kissed its purple head gently before taking it into her mouth. Jarial enjoyed the salty taste of his manhood as her tongue caressed its burled length.  She crossed her hands behind her back, as she was taught to do and began to gently suckle it.  Soon, the guardian heard her companions low, growling moans.  She continued her slow ministrations, carefully gauging his slight movements so that she would not make him spill his seed too fast.  Jarial wanted to feel that gift inside her when it was time. Her lips left his member and smiled the wanton smile of a harlot and stood up, her hands still crossed behind her.

“I am your to do with as you please,” Jarial said softly, her head bowed.

Tyraal grinned, “And what, pray tell, would please my beloved companion?”

The brunette leaned over and whispered into Tyraal’s ear, “I want you inside me.”

“You know what you must do, dear Jarial,” he gently kissed her on the lips.

Jarial nodded, the anticipation filling her with a warmth that swirled through her womb like a storm of dragonflies.  She stepped lightly over to her saddlebags and took from it a collar exactly like The Chosen Ones save that it’s color was a dark, heated red. She fastened it around her neck before bringing out the red leather manacles that would grace her wrists and ankles as well as several small lengths of chain.  She silently fastened these upon each limb, locking each with a secret catch.  The last thing she produced from her saddlebags was a red leather gag, which she fastened into place as well.  When Jarial was pleased with all of her bindings, she stepped forward to Tyraal, handed him the links of chain then turned around and knelt, hands crossed behind her.

The brunette was nearly shivering when Tyraal took the chain and fastened them to her cuffs.  He pulled her wrists up and fastened them to the back of her collar so they were crossed between her shoulder blades.  She tested her bonds simply to adjust to them.  Tyraal never let her have any slack in her bondage nor did she want any.  It was part of the ceremony that she had come to love and adore.  Any coupling between a Fullblood and his companion necessitated it. 

Jarial was so lost in thought that she did not realize that her lover had already locked the short length of chain between her ankles.  She stood up, smiling around her gag, and let Tyraal clip his lead upon her collar.  Each clip was unique to each pair of Guardians and no other clip would work on Jarial’s collar.  It was their sacred bond to one another. With a gentle tug, Tyraal led his companion over to a pile of pillows that were mounded in the corner.  Gulmon was a most gracious host and knew the needs of all his guest even before they needed them.  Jarial knelt down upon them and then let Tyraal ease her down upon her stomach.  She felt her ankles being pulled back and the attached to her wrist cuffs so now she was tightly hogtied.  It was Tyraal’s favorite position for taking her and she had come to love it as well.

Tyraal eased his companion over onto her back and made sure that she was comfortable.  For all the years he had traveled with her, he never got tired of her lithe, helpless form.  Her light skin contrasted with her long, dark tresses and her dark nipples were now stiff with ache and desire.  Her green eyes were hungry for him and by the slight movement of her hips, Tyraal could tell see she was more than eager to feel him inside of her. 

The Guardian took his time undressing, enjoying the slight and pleading moans coming from his captive.  For what seemed forever to Jarial, Tyraal stood over her, his member rampant and a beam across his face that told he was enjoying toying with her.  Finally, after Jarial struggled and thrusted and whined more loudly did Tyraal lean down over her and tenderly kiss her forehead. Slowly, his kisses trailed down her cheek and neck.  Tyraal only stopped a bit to nibble at each of her earlobes before continuing.  Already, Jarial’s blood was at a high boil and she forced her helpless body against his, rubbing back and forth, trying to get him to couple with her.  But he ignore her, preferring to set his own pace as he continued to trail his kisses down over her collar and collar bone to her breasts.

Tyraal’s tongue licked around each nipple and teased each of them with his little, almost painful bites.  She arched herself to him, feeling the heat of his skin and the firmness of his body against hers.  Each nip and kiss seemed to send more licks of pure pleasure coursing through her and she knew her moans were getting louder and more insistent. His lips left her breast and started to leave a hot, moist trail over the flat of her stomach towards her quim.  His tongue teased at her mons and at her outer gates, pushing her passion onto an even higher plane of lust.  Her position forced her legs to open for him and she knew with a flick or two from his tongue over her bud, that she would be engulfed in a broiling rapture.  But, Tyraal did not oblige.  He continued to tease her mercilessly.

Then he stopped.

Jarial felt Tyraal’s hands upon her knees and gently, he spread them further apart and knelt between them.  She held her breath as she felt him nudge at her sex before easing inside of her.  Tyraal filled her so completely in so many ways, including this.  Slowly, he began to thrust in and out of her and she tightened around him in response.  The boiling tide within her womb began to fill her whole being with bliss with each and every little movement of their bodies.  Tyraal quickened the pace, feeling her pleasure surrounding him and milking him; needing his seed. A red-hot ecstasy churned though Jarial as she bucked and moaned beneath Tyraal, helpless to do anything but enjoy.  The blissful boil roiled more and more inside her until finally, her soul was lost in pure rapture as she felt Tyraal’s seed flood inside of her.  She was a captured wild thing straining against the pleasure as she writhed in her bonds.  Then slowly, the joy ebbed away as Tyraal withdrew and lay beside her.  The pleasure did not fully ebb away, however, but lingered like a long summer evening.  Tyraal cradled her in his arms and slowly she fell asleep feeling warm and safe even though the leather and chains still bound her.

It was sometime during the night that Tyraal eased Jarial’s bindings off of her, including her gag and collar.  The Chosen One was still asleep in her bindings, for which he was glad.  He had worried briefly that Jarial’s noises through her gag might have woken the young sacrifice up, but the travel and the stress of yesterday had worked their magic and turned the young girl’s ears deaf to Jarial’s passionate moans.

Tyraal packed Jarial’s bindings away and then sat naked at the window, looking out at Taloncrag.  The moon had frosted it silver and white and even as close to it as they were, Tyraal was homesick for the comforts of the temple and his house. A shiver ran up his spine, as if a ghost had touched him. Something was out there. 

He pressed his palm against the glass and closed his eyes.  He could feel traces of it lingering in the night air like a foul stench, but he could not find it.  It was not that Tyraal feared what was out there, but the Chosen One hampered just what actions he could take.  If it were not for her, Tyraal would have donned his armor right then and gone out to hunt the thing down.  Jarial would have gone too.  Her senses were not as keen as his, but she was every bit as good a fighter and, in some ways, even better.  She knew how to find a weakness in an opponent faster than he ever could. 

Whatever lurked out there in the dark forests of the night, Tyraal was sure that they would cross its path.

End part three 



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