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In the Hyborian Age | Conan 2d20 [lovemeister0 x Cherubian]

Asenath chuckled at that.

"Your manhood is serviceable, but not as impressive as you may think it is, oh Metu the Mighty" once more her finger tips ran along the length, now slick with his own fluids.

"I can continue teasing you like this without a chance for release, and I have heard this can drive a man crazy." For emphasis her hand withdrew again. "Or can indeed give you release. But for that to happen you will have to give me more than just some repetition of your narrow minded world view."
 
It was agonizing for Metu, always being on the edge, but unable to release. He struggled to get Asenath to grip him harder, to stroke a little faster, to give him what he wanted, but to no avail. Then, he was given a choice.

"Yes, fine, fine! I'll do anything. What would you have of me?"
 
A smile crept on Asenath's lips as she rewarded Metu's sign of cooperation by lightly running thetip of her index finger along his length again.

"Tell me all you know about the men you have been fighting for." she finally commanded. "Give me the name of the priest who was leading you, and the names of his assistants. Tell me what your future plans are, after tonight's ambush. Where are you heading next?"
 
"He goes by Mun'ra," Metu blurts out without realizing. The finger pressed against his length drives him into such a fervor that he needs more. The slow strokes muddle his mind into complacency. "There are two others, also priests, but not as close to Set, but just as devious and wicked. Tuthamon and Akivasha, brother and sister. They plan to go to Luxur to sacrifice the virgins taken from your tribe. After that, I was not told. I merely follow. I do not question."

Even in his desperation, Metu seems to be telling the truth. He looks desperately to Asenath so that she may reward him, or at the very least cut him free so that he may assault her.
 
This was more information than she had hoped for. Even if she did not like what she heard about the fate of her clan mates. Would she have to follow them to Luxor?

First, she had to make good on her word. Well, she did not have to, but her word should be her word, otherwise she would be no better than these despicable setites. So she looked around and made sure that nothing that could be used as a weapon was within reach. Then she untied the man's bindings.

"You have earned a reward" she tells him flatly. "But stay clear of my ass, you hear me?"
 
As soon as the bonds were loosened, Metu took his advantage. He strikes her a blow in the shoulder to knock her to the ground, but he does not relent. He promised Asenath a lesson of a sort and he aims to provide.

Metu's hands take Asenath by the hips and pulls her close to him. He presses one of his hands between her shoulder blades and forces her upper body into the sand. With the tip of his manhood pressed against Asenath's slit, Metu presses forward. He feels soft tight warmth envelope his cock. His erratically exciting breaths only quicken as he penetrates Asenath.

"You bitch! You dare try to tame Metu? I am in control. You are just a woman, your purpose very clear."

His hips pump back and forth against Asenath, their bodies slapping against each other. Metu's grunts are lost in the cold wind, the only heat now produced from their connected bodies. He is rough, but he isn't moving nearly as fast as he can. He wants to make this last, to put Asenath in her place. He reaches forward with one hand and pulls sharply at her hair forcing her to her hands while Metu rides her from behind. His eyes dart side to side, looking for anything he can use to murder Asenath when he's had his fill.
 
Asenath is confused. Confused by the reaction of her own body. She had freed Metu and yielded to his advances out of a sense of honor and keeping her word. Also some wicked curiosity maybe, as she also could just have wanked him off.

What she had not expected was how much this was getting to her. How much she would enjoy him taking control and claiming her, mounting her with all his pent up anger and resentment. Even his derogatory talk only served to heighten her arousal further. Why was all of this turning her on so much?

As she was there on all fours in the desert sand, taking his thrusts at the pace he was setting, her moans joined his in the cool desert night.
 
Metu continues to thrust his hips. He is dangerously close to his orgasm, even though he has yet to exact his revenge on Asenath. She is weak and in the heat of the moment. His hands take her shoulders, so that he can bring her back against his thrusts. His hands travel further up and his fingers wrap around her neck.

In the cold night where there is only their bodies to provide each other warmth, Metu seeks to snuff out the only other life around. His fingers squeeze at her throat cutting off air circulation. With the excitement from their sex, she will certainly feel the loss. He sees the struggle and it excites him. More of his precum leaks out into Asenath. In just a moment, he will empty himself into Asenath and finish choking her out.
 
Asenath can feel his fingers constricting around her neck, their tips digging into her windpipe. Anger fills her, and a sudden surge of adrenaline triggered by her primal survival instinct. She reacts quickly and decisively.

Instead of trying to pry his fingers loose she rams her right elbow into his liver with all her might, and her might is considerable. Her sadistic lover feels a sudden surge of pain that leaves him breathless for a moment. With his strength fluctuating his hold on her loosens just enough for her next move. Her head whips upward, her scalp crashing into his face dead center, breaking his nose with a satisfying crunching sound. Preserving her momentum she pushes further until the man lies on his back. Only then does she turn around, raising her own upper body to straddle him. And just like that she mounts his still hard cock again.

As her vaginal muscles contract around his shaft she grabs both his writst and pins them into the sand next to his head.

"How dare you!" she growls as her own hips start to rise and fall, intent to use him for her own satisfaction. "How dare you ruin my fun like this? Now why shouldn't I follow your example, and wring the life from you after I have used you?"
 
It all happens so quickly. Metu was about to snuff out the life of the woman foolish enough to let him fuck her, the next, he's on his back, broken nose, blood to stain his beard, chin and mouth. He blinks a few times to get rid of the whiteness that is his vision. When he comes to, he groans, but not of the pleasure his still hard cock feels, but from the pain in his head.

It is a strange thing to feel pain, and yet, aroused at the same time. The arousal no longer comes from his sadistic tendencies, but from the fact that a woman rides on top of him forcing the pleasure back into his loins, although he is no longer eager to cum. The pain sets him back a few moments, but with Asenath's skills as a woman and as a lover, she may be able to coax it out of him.

Metu struggles for a moment, but is unable to push Asenath over. He is still dazed and slightly confused to what is happening. The process causes Asenath to bounce along his manhood for a brief period before he finally relents and groans again, this time with pain and pleasure mixed into one.

Asenath speaks to him, but he does not comprehend her words. He feels her walls squeeze tight around his throbbing girth. It's enough to make any man cum several times over, but the pain prevents him from doing so. He is Asenath's prisoner. She is in control of his pleasure and his life, whether he wants it or not.
 
She does not care much for either right now. She feely angry and betrayed at the man for not simply bringing their rutting to a satisfying conclusion, and hence she is determined to wring the pleasure from him whether he wants her to or not.

Her fingers are like shackles aroud his wrists, completely fixating his arms, while his upper body may still be able to writhe underneath her. Her hips keep pumping up and down, her pace accelerating as her arousal keeps rising. It is only these faint slapping sounds that break the silence of the desert night for several minutes. Until the warrior woman reaches her peak.

She groans loudly, her groin plummeting down to take him all the way inside her, her vaginal walls clutching his length as she herself is in the blissful throes of her orgasm. She throws her head back, half closes her eyes and savors every moment of her release. And when it is over she slumps forward while he is still lodged inside her. Her upper body pins him down as her hold on his wrists begins to loosen.
 
Metu is a prisoner of Asenath's blissful wrath. There is nothing he can do to prevent her from taking her pleasure and, despite his protests, his body yearns for a release that had been building since the warrior woman began interrogating him. This isn't what he wants, but what his body desperately needs.

When Asenath reaches her climax, he feels it. He feels the walls of her vagina clench at his hardness, squeezing and edging him on. His body relents and gives in. With a startled groan, Metu deposits his seed into Asenath's body. It is a load he has been harboring and the euphoric pleasure that results is most welcome to his body.

His body goes still from the weakness of his climax. Already, he grows soft while still positioned inside Asenath, who took what she wanted. His cum leaks out of her and back onto his waist. He can only wonder if this is it, if Asenath will kill him here or spare his life. He is too tired and in pain to think clearly of escape, so he simply lays there underneath the warrior woman. If she takes too long, however, he may regain his strength and mental faculties and attempt to overpower her.
 
Asenath's thoughts follow similar paths. What should she do with the man now? He has given her the information she needed, and she has derived what pleasure she could from him. Could he be of use to her still? Or, more importantly, can she trust not to be murdered in her sleep the next time she rests? Metu has proven quite hostile given the opportunity.

Finally she pushes herself up, still straddling him as she looks down on his exhausted form. "I am afraid you give me no choice" she finally says, as this time her hands move towards his throat.
 
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