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Travelling [W/ Miranda and Iskander--PM for Invite]

Iskander gritted his teeth, but continued stroking in vain, nonetheless. The pain of being denied release was unreal, but the sheer euphoria of his actions were enough to outweigh them on a grand scale. Eyes widened as Miranda exposed more of her breasts, leaving Iskander transfixed at the site of her.

She was cruel, as most were to his sort, but he could not claim to dislike it. Death was always an option or killing her and leaving the jewel to someone else, but Iskander had come to enjoy her presence, in his own way. This game of hers kept their journey interesting and his denied manhood alert and at attention.

"Loosen it..." He grunted, trying desperately not to plead. Trying and failing to hide the pleading tone in his voice, Iskander proffered a barely audible "...please."
 
She smirked. His attitude was definitely improving. She caressed the jewel gently, which was almost too hot to touch. She could see it squeezing him a little tighter. Exactly how she wanted it.

“I’m sorry? What was that?”

She didn’t normally tease when she played with her men. She much preferred a quick and mutual fuck. But the sorcerer was too smug for a not-quite man, and she was willing to be the girl to teach him some manners. Who knew, maybe she’d break him and be able to sell him on the market. Lots of lovely and genteel ladies would love to have a pet sorcerer. And once they captured their next prize, she would only need one magic user.
 
As the sensation of pleasure and pain combined into a euphoria all it's own, Iskander's eyes rolled into the back of his head as his mouth opened wide. A loud moan escaped his lips, followed by a hoarse whisper.

"Please, loosen it."

By now his hips swayed back and forth in tandem with his hand, stroking his engorged and now bright red member. Precum oozed and pooled around his knees, sticking to the pale flesh of his thighs. He was lost in the moment, his former stubborn nature buried beneath his desire to release this fire within his loins.
 
A sigh passed her lips, and Miranda ran a finger across the jewel, loosening the band around his cock so very, very slowly. She watched his juices oozing down his leg, feeling the warmth between her own legs growing uncomfortable.

“How pleasant that sounds.”

Miranda shifted, a little uncomfortable the food growing cold on the bedroll beside her. She pulled the chemise all the way down, feeling incredibly too hot.

“Show me how a monster cums, little Iskander.”

A little breathlessly Miranda brushed a finger over the ruby at her throat, and suddenly the band was as relaxed on his cock as it ever got – just tight enough for him to be aware of it, but not to impeded any actual physical functions.
 
The moment the ring loosened about his member, Iskander let out several loud moans of pleasure as white streams of hot cum spewed forth. Eyes clenched tightly as his hand worked the member, ringing every last drop of cum out of it that he was able. He came without conscious or worry for it's location, letting his seed fly in any direction it pleased.

Kneeling there, spent, his body weight resting on his backside, Iskander breathed heavily trying to maintain composure. His cock still gave the odd twitch, earning a wince from the sorcerer every now and again, but it seemed he had finished his task. Hands resting at his side, Iskander wiped his hand clean against his thigh.
 
Miranda smiled smugly, a pleased flushed spreading across her cheeks as he lost control and tipped over the edge. His warm cum flew everywhere – some splattering her helpless panties; the furthest reaching her toes to slide, sticky and hot, in between her toes.

Arching an eyebrow, Miranda glared at the sorcerer. He did that on purpose; she knew it.

“Iskander, you’ve made a mess.”

Her voice was even, but flat. It was a voice he was familiar with, that he would recognize as being very serious and more than a little dangerous.
 
As the wave of euphoria began to fade, Iskander could feel adrenaline pulsing through his veins as lethargy set. His limbs felt useless, as though all of his energy was completely sapped. Catching his breath, Iskander raised his arms in an attempt to calm her wrath.

"It wasn't intentional, I assure you."

He recognized her tone and had no intention of further upsetting her. Given how tender and vulnerable he was in this moment, the last thing Iskander needed or wanted was pain to his tender cock.
 
Miranda gathered her panties up and inspected the damage. The lace was warm and gooey; not ruined, but not something she’d willingly wear.

“I’m sure.”

She stretched her toes, the cum sliding down her heel. She held her foot out to the sorcerer, still kneeling at her feet.

“You can put that snide mouth to use and clean me up. Now.”

She held out the panties.

“And these.”

Her voice didn’t waiver and she didn’t blink. She meant it.
 
The task would not have seemed so deplorable had he not just recently relieved himself of all of his sexual desire. Iskander could admit that he was more malleable, more willing, when he was in the throes of passion. This was a different story entirely, but one he would have to participate in nevertheless. He had tried fighting her in the beginning. It had resulted in nothing more than excruciating pain and hours of unrelenting uncomfortableness.

Closing his eyes, Iskander's lips parted and excepted the proffered toes into his mouth. Saliva caked Miranda's toes and the bitter taste of seed overcame Iskander's tongue. He abhorred the taste and was loathe to admit this was not the first time he'd been forced to taste it. After he had finished sucking every single toe clean, he collected her panties and cleaned them as well.

His face blanched, his throat lurched and he swallowed. Iskander would not meet her eyes, rage and shame taking hold of him.
 
Miranda enjoyed the feeling of his tongue sliding between her toes. As he was cleaning her panties she thought of other places he could slip his warm tongue. As Iskander sat at her feet, she could feel anger nearly radiating off of him in waves. She ate it up.

“Show me.”

She stood slowly. She didn’t tower over Iskander, considering she was normally about a foot shorter but as he was sitting on his heels at her feet she had the advantage. He was level with the belts, the only thing that was holding her chemise up. Her nipples were taunt in the cooling air. She ran a hand through his hair, slowly knotting her hand in the tangled mass at the base of his neck and forcing his head backwards to look up at her.

“Show me.”

She demanded, her voice quiet and dark.
 
Iskander sneered, but dare not say anything. If looks could kill, Iskander had murdered Miranda a thousand times over in the barest instant. Lips peeled back baring pearl white teeth, which soon parted to reveal his tongue. Any vestiges of his seed were merely the leavings that escaped the initial swallow.

He knew not what she had in mind, but Iskander had the feeling that he wouldn't care for it, not at all.

"Satisfied?" He asked, petulantly.
 
Miranda could feel herself stirring. She jerked his head back, crushing her lips against his fiercely. She darted her tongue into his mouth, invading him and tasting the cum in his mouth. She enjoyed the taste, the sensation; Pulling back from him slowly, she stared into his eyes and answered.

“Not nearly. Not yet”

Pushing her hand against his chest, she quietly commanded.

“Lay back.”
 
The kiss caught him off guard, but stirred his loins, all the same. His flaccid member began to harden yet again, blood pumping through the bound organ. His eyes narrowed at her response, but he said nothing else for fear of upsetting her.

Laying back, as she commanded, Iskander let his arms settle at his side, his eyes taking in the sight of her from the ground. The swell of her bosom, the sight of her nipples pressing against her chemise caused his member to harden again.

His eyes eventually settled on the moist lips between her legs. If only she'd let him put his member within those confines she'd find herself far more amiable towards the sorcerer.
 
Miranda took a minute to enjoy the sight of the sorcerer laying back in the leaves, his red hair curling around his naked body, his member struggling back to attention. She strolled languidly around him, confidently placing her heels on either side of his head, digging her toes into his silky hair.

Caressing the ruby at her throat she felt the ring tighten, but only slightly. Kneeling, knees pressed into his shoulders, she positioned herself above him, feeling herself grow moist at the close proximity of his tongue.

“You have an opportunity to please me.”

She wiggled her bottom, lowering herself closer to him.

“Don’t waste it.”
 
Iskander took her words to heart, wasting little time, Iskander's tongue darted out to run over her lips before digging in. His lips worked to suck and pull upon them tenderly. Hands moved up to cup her backside as Iskander worked his tongue ferociously within her woman hood. Adopting a small clockwise motion, he applied pressure near the top of her opening, aiming for the bundle of nerves located near it in an attempt to please Miranda.

As one might expect, his member began to grow until it was fully erect again.A small drop of precum oozing from the tip.
 
Miranda threw her head back as he worked fervently at her. She ran fingers along his chest, caressing his warm flesh and twisting his nipples.

Miranda moaned as he flicked his tongue against her clit, digging her nails into his chest, grinding against his face non-too gently.

“What a good sorcerer.”

She purred as he dug his hands against her bottom. She leaned down and licked his chest, running her tongue along his nipples, tugging them into her mouth and watching his cock swell, the precum pearling at his tip. She wanted him to squirm underneath her. She ran her nails along his ribs lightly.
 
His face buried firmly in her backside, his mouth worked viciously at her lips. Sucking, nibbling, licking, pulling, teasing, doing anything and everything he could manage to please her. Phantom tongues worked in tandem with Iskander's own, moving all over Miranda's body. They caressed her neck, her ears, her legs, her ass, her toes, every bit of her body would feel his mouth sucking and licking.

Precum oozed and drizzled down the length of his cock. Iskander wriggled his hips, hoping to draw Miranda's attention, praying that in the throes of her passion she would see fit to grant him further pleasure as well.
 
She bit her lip, grinding into his mouth and wiggling against the invisible tongues. She had no doubt he was using magic on her; she should have squeezed the ruby at her throat and cut his prick off, but she was enjoying the sensation too much. Sitting up, she bit her lip hard and felt the pressure inside building, building – and finally, exploding.

Arching her back Miranda cried out, her head tossed back as she ground mercilessly into his mouth.

A few moments passed where she managed to catch her breath and regain composure. She slowly stood, liquid dribbling down her leg. She stretched languidly. Drowsily, she laid down on her bedroll.

"Good enough, for a soulless monster."

Lacing her fingers beneath her head she yawned.

"Once you're done with dinner, you can pack it up. We leave at first light."
 
Left on his back, cock engorged and oozing cum, Miranda's juices dribbling down his chin, Iskander sighed. He would eat his cold dinner, with Miranda's dried juices still upon his face and the faint hint of cum still upon his tongue.

"As you say, Miranda."

Before all of that, however, he would take an extended dip in the very cold pond. Maybe then, he could get some sleep.
 
The next morning Miranda awoke in a wonderful mood. She stretched her fingers and toes, enjoying the brisk dawn chill. Sitting up on her bedroll, she pulled her stockings on, buckling the garters tightly so that they wouldn’t disappear into her boots. She glared her panties in her saddlebags – they were stiff with dried cum and saliva. Crumpling them in a ball she strolled over to Iskander, asleep on his bedroll.

The day wouldn’t be as stifling because they were out of the damned marsh, and tonight they’d be in a real town. She would be able to have a warm bath, a soft feathery bed, and hopefully some entertainment.

Standing over the sleeping sorcerer, she jabbed him in the ribs with her toe.

“Wake up and help me with my armor.”

She finished buttoning her chemise to her throat and threw the ruined panties into his lap.

"And you'll wear those today."
 
Jarred out of his slumber by a harsh nudge, the sorcerer looked about the area in an attempt to regain his senses. Dazed and confessed he fumbled with the lacy undergarments, holding them out by the tips of his fingers. They still smelled of of his seed and contained small patches of crusted white where he had licked them clean the night before.

Opening his mouth to protest, Iskander thought better of it after catching a glimpse of the jewel at her throat. He had no desire to feel his cock squeezed off this morning. With a huff and a frustrated glance, Iskander rose to his feet. "As you wish, Miranda."

Slipping the lacy panties up his legs, Iskander pulled them over his member, creating a sizable bulge in the panties. He was ashamed to admit he actually enjoyed the feeling of the soft material against his flesh.

Donning the rest of his robes and jewelry in a flash, he moved to help Miranda snap her armor into place. As he ran his fingers along her legs, snapping everything into place, he could feel his cock pressing tightly against the fabric of her panties, stretching the fabric to it's limit. He turned his hips, trying to hide his 'shame.' He knew he'd never hear the end of it if Miranda saw his involuntary excitement.
 
Miranda braided her hair into two long ropes as Iskander buckled her into her armor. She allowed him to run his hands along her as she scanned the camp to see what else they needed to pack. Satisfied she turned towards him, swinging the braids over his shoulder. His unnatural pose had her cocking her eyebrow; She stepped forward swiftly and reached into his robes – the bulge that filled her hands had a dark smile creasing her face.

“I see you rather like my underwear. Not only a monster but a slut, too.”

She squeezed his member in her palm.

“It’s good to know”

Releasing him, she turned towards her horse, saddling and mounting the charger swiftly, thinking of all the ways she could make use of this new information.
 
As Miranda mounted and rode off, Iskander sputtered in embarrassment, his face turning a bright red. "N-No! I was thinking about something else!"

Packing up his own bedroll, the sorcerer cursed his own proclivities and hovered after her.

"Please tell me we won't be sleeping outside again? I am so tired of sleeping on the ground...It's been ages since I've laid on a feather mattress." He spoke of it lovingly, as though the mattress was more important to him than his own freedom.
 
Miranda shook her head.

“We’ll be in a town by early evening, I think. And I’ll be surprised if you’ll be getting any sleep tonight.”

She smirked, glancing at him

“I’ll be sure to enjoy that feather bed for you, of course.”


~~~

Miranda wasn’t off by much – they reached a sizable town named Aster late in the afternoon. The cobblestone streets were lined with vendors, the smell of cooking food winding through the streets. Miranda took the time to enjoy the sound of other voices surrounding her, and scanned the businesses on either side of the street, taking note of alleys that seemed to promise gaming hells. Finally, after much meandering, she nodded towards a stone inn with a fenced in courtyard, set somewhat apart from the surrounding buildings.

“This inn looks as good as any of the others.”

She dismounted, leading the charger and mule to an stablehand, giving him instructions for the Ostler. She grabbed a saddlebag and found her way into the inn, leaving Iskander to follow with the remaining saddlebags. She ordered a room, and a hot bath and allowed a quiet maid to lead them up to the room – third floor, last door on the left. The maid bowed out of the room, just as more maids arrived carrying the copper tub and sloshing several buckets of hot water.

She tossed the saddlebags on the floor and strode over to the bed, feeling it – down feathers.

“Ah! Perfect. Help me out of this armor, will you?”
 
Iskander settled to the ground and walked the rest of the way once they had entered the city limits. It wouldn't do any good to draw attention to himself or Miranda. She may have been willing to keep him alive and use his talents to her benefit, others might have preferred to see him strung up and set aflame. He practically drooled over the potential of the soft bed, fervently hoping that Miranda was jesting about his eventful night.

With a roll of his eyes, Iskander set to to removing Miranda's armor. Leaving her in her chemise and stockings, he moved the armor to a small corner of the room where phantom hands set to polishing it.

"Anything else?"
 
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