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18.15% Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions / Chapter 48: Cooking Skills

章節 48: Cooking Skills

[🎶 Into The Black – CHROMATICS.]

ELDORIA'S STUNNING FLAG, a print of a pale falcon with a golden eye, billowed on an ice mount several days later. It had been planted forthwith at the end of the battle and the vanquish of the Giants. All the territories of the deep North were claimed back under the Empire's great shadow. Rumbrun was no more, but the fey Queen let it keep its name—a mock remembrance.

Giselle, Rafel, Aya Naamah and Cora, the lieutenant Ser Romulus, Yemaya, and a few others stayed behind to reinforce the wards on the demolished ancient pillars of ice. There were no walls to keep back evil, no Nephilim to keep back either. Still, Giselle ordered a union of her Wiccan coven and Cora's Laveyan one to touch up the protective glyphs.

The sister witches, with a voice as one, carved up the tundra in leylines as one big slice of magical haven invulnerable to blood sorceries and crafts of the grim occult. If any such mutated horde like the spawn of the Titans recently conquered were to arise in the vast uninhabited lands of snow, the Regent at such time would have more a fighting chance than Giselle got.

The Queen prepared for the future. Because one thing was certain,

"Evil never truly dies."

Veracious words out from Rafel's mouth and deep into her heart.

The surviving Giants of the battle had journeyed back south with the legions some four days ago, in chains. Rafel had watched the long line of the troops winding like a river as they marched around the high Alps. They were completely vanished into the silvery panorama by dusk that same day. And now, nearly a week since the war, only he and a small company of the Queen's most trusted circle remained along the tundra.

They had made camp from the unburned beams of the Nephilims tents. Or at least what remained of it. Rafel could still hear the fires raging that terrible night and the choking screaming whenever the wind picked up. The vale of Magvath beyond was shrouded in a hex. An intentional sorcery made by Cora to keep the stench of the hundreds of rotting corpses, man and giant, from entering their camp.

At the moment, it was early evening.

The snows that had begun that morning had pulled up and now the air was clear. The skies had a washed glow and a rosy sun spilled through. Not bright but fresh off a blue firmament. The white hills of the tundra roundabout stretched for miles into sleepy blue horizon. The panorama was beatific. The view, enchanting.

Rafel sat on an old metal chair outside a large tent. One of the four in the camp.

He read silently from an old, withered tome he found in the ashes after the battle. It was in the single box collection he had recovered from Ekron's only possession. Somehow, the dead Chieftain did love books. Rafel turned the yellowed, decaying pages with intrigue. Cora had fashioned reading glasses for him from bristles and glass.

Rafel lifted his eyes a moment to scan the white plains.

'The witches should be returning anytime soon,' he mused. 'Reinforcements of arcane wards this ancient is no joke. They have taken a whole day amongst the icestone pillars.'

He looked from the sweet fair outlands to the slow burning fire he had going. A three-stand coal pot—another recovery from Ekron's iron box, frothed the aroma of broth into the air. Rafel was cooking. But not just for himself. For their entire little camp. Between himself, his women, the Queen and her Lieutenant, and Yemaya, they were all in total less than ten souls left behind.

'The armies must have reached the Capitol by now.'

Frostholm was the first to get word of the victories won by Her Majesty's Legions. The Lord of the city quickly dispatched riders with a small feast for the marching host. And at night, surreptitiously, whores also. The soldiers indulged to the fullest before continuing on their way. Their chained prisoners got nothing of their surplus.

The blue Nephilims were pulled dry and soiled in blood by the great manacles dropping down from their wrists that binded them one to another, and then to the 30ft hairy mammoths that kept them from scampering for the hills. Wagons full of gold, silver, and several other piles of rich plunder the Giants had before captured from the fallen cities of Persepolis, Ashtapur, and Castamere were dragged behind by the Queen's Royal cavalry.

The Eldorians had recovered every single ingot of the lost loot.

If the Giants were lucky, all they would face in the Capitol would be swift hangings. If they weren't, Dragons and a cheering crowd would be involved.

Just like the billowing flag staked beside Rafel's tent, several more in the gilded Eldorian Fae colors breezed northward from monuments erected in honor of the fallen cities. It'd be some time but even the ruins of Castamere would see rain again.

Rafel gathered his thoughts and focused when he saw an approaching group in the distance.

Giselle's golden hair flowing out behind her, like rolls of hay on a barn floor, was a marker.

He closed the book.

"They're back."

This far out in the tundra, the Queen seemed more like a farm girl rather than a Fae with the combined power of Sol and Athena. The company of witches with her were fresh faced and smiling when they pulled near. Rafel noticed Corazón and the lieutenant, Romulus wielding a giant bunch of purple grapes on a stick, shoulder to shoulder.

Cora had her sleeves rolled up. Her skin was a softer shade to Ser Romulus' tan. But the strength inherent was equal.

Aya Naamah dragged a white bison behind them. It left a long trail of wet blood from the gash in it's open neck. Albino bisons were a rarity.

The entire company bowed as they reached Rafel. He also stood up from his seat in regard. He hadn't failed to notice that everyone had defied him since he felled the six-toed Ekron in battle. Ser Romulus still insisted on calling him Sir. Rafel looked to the beautiful commune.

Giselle smiled full at him. Without the shadow of her powders, he could see her full blush rouge up her cheeks.

"Ah, you cooked for us, Your Grace?" The Queen flirted.

They were but a little company and everyone among was freer and informal now that the mighty legions were gone back. Cora and Romulus lowered the grape bunch and Aya promptly dropped the bison. The animal was twice her size and three times her weight. Yet, she handled it like a satchel of oranges. She disappeared to fetch a dagger to begin the skinning.

Rafel slid Cora his chair. She thanked him brightly and wiped at her brow as she plunked onto it. Romulus himself settled down right on the light snows at her feet. Rafel watched Giselle hold back her blond hair and open the boiling pot.

Steam poured out as she lifted the lid and a delicious aroma wafted into the air.

"Woah, Rafel. This smells amazing." Giselle complimented.

Rafel would blush, but his skin was epically pale.

She grabbed a scoop and dipped into the broth for a taste while the others oohed and ahhed at the aroma. Aya returned with the cleaving knife and sat like Romulus in snow. She crossed her legs and began with the bison's albino head. She winked at Rafel when she smelled the aroma from the stew.

"Lord Master does many things impeccably," she offered. She left her words at that but everyone went pink.

Many things was... many things.

"Gods! Tastes like heaven."

Giselle had just lowered her open palm and licked at her lips. She dipped in the ladle again to draw another scoop. Instantly, everyone stretched out their hands for a taste. They were so liberal, like little kids.

"By the Martyr, where did you learn to cook like this?" Yemaya said herself. She stood beside Giselle and peered up from her palm, licked clean to Rafel and back again. "Even my harem struggle with a good porridge. And I have four girlfriends!" Yemaya joked.

The others laughed, tasting and complimenting in their own way.

Rafel didn't fail to notice the water queen artfully kept talk of her male lover, Gawain, who had been felled in the battle from her lips. He let it slide. She deserved to mourn, but not at the moment. Gawain had being carried back in stasis of a summoned [Rare] Cryo block on the chariots of the Atlanteans back to the sea.

Rafel couldn't even imagine the scenario of him losing one of his.

Giselle gingerly covered the pot and left the broth to brew some more. She said,

"Between the beef, the grapevine, and Lord Rafel's excellent bouillon, I say we have enough for a good meal and wine indulgence tonight!"

"Fuck yes. I've been needing a hot meal." Cora chirped.

Everyone laughed. This time, including Rafel.

The sun set on the Alps, making the white mountains into a prism and splashing a kaleidoscope of natural colors on the little, flourishing company. For that brief moment of time, no one thought about the valley of a thousand decomposing bodies shielded from sight and breath by magic, just thirty feet away.

Back in the Capitol, a fucking trip away, people were calling the battle of Nephilims by a name that would still skitter hearts generations to come, they were calling it, SKYFALL.


創作者的想法
Staplehead Staplehead

[THE BATTLE OF SKYFALL] would be a notable reckoning for future developments throughout the story, so named for the rain of arrows that pierced the night.

章節 49: On Winter's Night [18+]

[#femdom #hardcore #pissing #sluts #humiliation #cumonbreasts #cuminmouth #bigbutt #fetish #longchapter.]

[🎶 Something Real – Post Malone.]

IT HAD BEGUN TO SNOW AGAIN AT DUSK. Rafel gathered himself and his curvaceous succubus vassal to his tent and shut the flaps to keep out the cold wind.

Supper had been eventful. Their little company of witches and warriors had settled to a fine dinner of his delicious soup, steak on the side, and the pressed virgin wine of the grapes. Rafel could still taste the untainted pleasure of the purple liqueur as he settled himself by a corner of the large tent made into a sleeping area. It was like the snow had been waiting on them to finish their dinner, because as soon as Giselle lowered her licked plate to the pile, it began trickling down from the night sky as a drizzle.

Northern lights dazzled as gray and lilac spectrums above. Out of the four tents in the small camp, Giselle took one with her Lieutenant. Yemaya and the others had one. Rafel, a canopy to himself. And Cora and Aya Naamah were to share the last one—but somehow the beautiful dark-haired girl found herself taken by the hand into her Lord Master's clave.

She didn't object. Not one bit.

Cora would have to sleep alone tonight.

"Goodnight, babe!" Cora had waggled her eyebrows meaningfully at her, grinning in the twilight.

Aya had tried not to blush too much.

She lay first on the spread bedding. It was thick in quilts and even softer than a mattress. A hammock floated on the opposite corner of the tent, a glowing orb of rare gold [Magic Lamp] granting sweet candlelight to the interior, and whenever the wind whistled higher, Aya felt the urge to pull under the blankets and snuggle into the bedding.

Rafel had purchased a dozen of the lamps for the entire camp from the Arcane Shop at a fresh price of 1 100 [Soul Coins].

At the moment, Aya watched the handsome stature of her Lord Master zip up the tent flaps, locking them in. He turned around. The lamp cast his giant shadow over the side. Aya was on her side on the thick quilts. She patted the side, the empty space beside her.

"Come to me, Master," she implored him.

Even if Rafel wanted to take the hammock, her sexy violet eyes would not let him. Quietly, he padded across the warm tent to her. Rafel dropped to his knees and lay beside her on his back. Aya put her hand into his red hair, loosened the mane and caressed the gilded strands in her lovely fingers.

"It's been a while since we had time to ourselves, Naamah," he said. "As much as I love battle and conquest, these feeble mortals sorely remind me of life worth living. And it doesn't help that we lost a few good men in the vale."

"Then let me make it up to you, My Lord."

At Aya's soft entreating, Rafel turned to peer up at her. He was on his back and she leaned from his left above him. Her pink lips were full and her fair skin was rich and supple. Her hands stopped moving in his hair and she sat up a bit.

She moved those hands to her succulent body. She cupped her firm, generous breasts, shaking them slightly in Rafel's face. Reflexively, he licked at his lips. Aya's nail were painted a violet blush, matching her eyes. She raised one hand behind to the tied straps at her nape, keeping up her black cashmere shirt. She pulled at a single string and the ropes loosened.

She gently pulled down the shirt and her bosom spilled into the saintly light of the lamps.

Rafel growled in the tent.

His slave was beautiful everywhere. Her boobs were shaped for a man's touch. His touch. Her body was sensuous and ripe. She was soft and alluring. Her breasts were twin peaks on her chest, large and supple. Her areolas were wonderful pink and her nipples a touch paler.

How he would love to manhandle her?

He gave another appreciative growl in the back of his throat and Aya bit softly on her bottome lip. His cock raged to the challenge. She beckoned him to suck with her supernatural violet eyes. In the warm glow of the tent, the snow whispering outside, Aya grasped herself and offered to him her breasts. She leaned over on his face, pressing them together and submerging his nose in the scent of her cleavage.

"Suckle, my Lord. Take your reward."

Rafel kissed her swollen nipples first. She gasped and squeezed her boobs.

"Ohh, Master. I want your tongue. Bite on it."

Rafel pulled one topped nipple into his mouth, sucking wetly and drawing back. Her pink flesh popped out his mouth. Aya groaned to keep back her desire to smother him. She had fallen completely over Rafel now. His whole face was in her cleavage. She panted above him, slapping her boobs over his lips.

Rafel took her fair neck in his grip. She bent back for him and he licked wide across her boobs. Her breasts were large and heavy now. He could smell the sex on her. She was getting primed up. He lapped up both nipples and Aya quivered on top of him. A trail of slobber connected his lips to her tip as he leaned back to stare at her big breasts.

"Fuck." Aya rasped at the wet contact. She shook her breasts in his face.

Rafel softly smacked her cheek.

"You have such nice titties, slave! Fat and milky."

Aya couldn't help herself and went on her knees beside Rafel. It put out more of her ample flesh on display. Her fat, shapely ass went shooting out right behind her. Rafel leaned up an inch to grab at her huge bottom. He smacked her with a fleshy thwack and sucked her back into his mouth. He rolled her nipple with his tongue and Aya's back caved as she arched above him.

"Oh fuck, Master! Fuck yes, Master. Suck those tits. Mhmm, just like that. Shit! Oh fuck yes. I'm gonna make it up to you. I'm gonna fucking make it up to you. You want some milk? I can conjure up milk so you suck—"

The zipper on the tent flaps abruptly droned down.

Aya Naamah froze over Rafel.

They both watched in flushed states of passion as the intruder pulled in, in a mild burst of snow. This person quickly leaned back to zip up the tent. In the bent posture, a distinctly feminine figure was revealed. This woman's ass was round and pert.

The intruder turned and golden eyes shimmered out brighter than the [Magic Lamp].

"Y–Your Majesty?" Aya croaked.

[🎶 Maniac – Sound Of Legend.]

"Don't stop on my account." Giselle ordered.

Aya lifted up slowly from Rafel. He sat up to stare at the fey Queen. Aya tried to pull up her shirt over her naked boobs. Giselle sent her a look.

"What did I just say, succubus. Don't you fucking dare! Leave those tits out. I just want to have a few words with your Master. You have a lovely body. It's a nice distraction. Don't let me repeat myself!"

Aya, who was a goner for a true dominant partner, be it male or female, flipped back her long dark hair and rested back on her calves, kneeling in a compliant pose. Her violet eyes blinked warmly and her breasts swayed deliciously in the golden light of the tent.

It took a great effort for Rafel to turn his gaze to Giselle.

"What do you want?"

He was curt.

Giselle strode to stand above him. Her sleeping robes did nothing to hide her figure. Rafel could see up to her legs and pale thighs. The hot, annoyed Queen was fuming.

"Why didn't you tell me you had gotten married? And to fucking Yemaya?"

Rafel pinched the bridge of his nose. "Here we go."

"Yes! Here we fuckin' go!" Giselle didn't let up. "The war is over. So is your lame excuse to evade a conversation. Talk to me, Israfel. Why? I thought you didn't like rings and attachment. If you just wanted a union with a Queen, you could have come to me. You could've—"

"I COULD'VE NOTHING, GISELLE!" Rafel said.

His dark voice was so quiet, but it still made the women shiver. Rafel was coldest when his tone dipped. Shadows danced over the lamp, starting to creep across the carpeted floors of the tent to him. He stood to his great height. He dwarfed the fey Queen. His warm infernal pupils peered into Giselle's with understanding.

"It was a marriage of convenience, and she sprang it up on me. I didn't want a Queen then and I don't wife now either. It was a favor to her. Yemaya only brought it up because she knows how much it riles you. AND GISELLE...NEVER SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY AGAIN."

Giselle stepped up to him.

"Or what?"

Rafel was very, very surprised. Actually stunned. He loved the Queen's fire—and crazy above every thing else about her. She knew he did. And Rafel was not now imagining her thigh stroking softly the massive curve poking his crotch. She was daring him. In the lampshade, her soft Fae beauty was revealed underneath her kimono.

Giselle reached up more. She lifted up on her tiptoes, and still came up only to his broad chest.

"Or what, Your Grace? What are you going to do, huh?" She poked him. "I am Regent from here to the Cold Sea. I am Queen of the greatest Empire in the continent—"

"And you're a fucking slut!" Rafel finished blandly.

Giselle executed a perfect doubletake.

"EXCUSE ME!" Her lips puckered. "Say that again, I dare you?! SAY IT, YOU FUCKIN' DEMON!"

WHACK. . .

Rafel slapped her across the face.

It was a playful smack—otherwise Giselle would be flying out the tent—and her head only turned the other way. The fey Queen slowly turned back. Her gold iris was full of rich, brimming Fae flames.

"You motherfucker!" She gritted.

Rafel smirked. "I thought I was a demon."

"You dare raise a hand to your Queen?"

"Uh, My Queen turns out to be a whiny, little slut. Anyone ever tell what a sexpot you are? You are so fucking hot when you're angry. Now, tell me QUEEN... what's the real reason you barged into my tent this cold night?

Is it to really scream at me, or you just want some dick?"

Giselle put her face close to his and breathed in his face.

"FUCK. YOU."

"I thought as much."

"That's not what I meant and you fucking know it!" She was pushing at Rafel's chest. He didn't even flinch. He just absorbed all her punches and comical rage. ". . .I hate you! I hate that you got married. I hate—"

Rafel cut out her next words in a drowning kiss. He grabbed the back of her next. It was a hard kiss. It was angry. Fierce. Full of repressed fire. Giselle found her lips parting. She moaned slightly before catching herself and wrenching her mouth away.

"You slapped me!"

"And it made you wet." Rafel returned.

"Fuck you!" Giselle spun around to walk out.

But Rafel grabbed at her wrist and dragged her flush into his warm body. He was big and totally male. Their heated argument was quickly spinning into heated 'something else'. Rafel kissed her again, and this time Giselle was powerless to stop herself from giving in. She met his lips with equal passion. Their tongues tangled. It was a fury of clashing mouths. A frenzy. Raw need churned on display. It was full of saliva and dirty. Rafel claimed her mouth and Giselle parted wide her lips for him to possess her.

She was still angry. But she channelled it into the passion of their kiss.

Rafel clutched to her blond hair and ravaged her breathless. Giselle grappled with his shirt. She was shivering in his arms. When his rough lips skittered to her neck, Giselle thought she might pass out from wanting too much. She panted and licked feverishly at Rafel's jaw. The corner of his lips. His five o'clock shadow. She kissed every inch of his golden skin her lips met.

She was an extremely aroused female.

Fury and horniness were a hot mix. It made an irate whore of her. . .


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