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The Trials of Orinn
Part III
Orinn pulled himself out of a sound sleep sometime after the sun
cleared the horizon. Even then, contrary to his usual routine, he
lay in the bed he’d been given for the night, luxuriating in
its cozy warmth. Much of his unaccustomed laziness, he knew, was
due to the fact that he dreaded facing Cora again, and more
importantly, Cora’s toothy mistress. Trying to shut out the
growing light from the window by pulling his pillow over his
head, the High Elf rolled over.
He sighed. It was no use. Every time he closed his eyes he
pictured the vampire’s fangs pressing against, then
piercing, Cora’s inner thigh, or watched once again as it
lightly raked its claws down it’s submissive thrall’s
belly. Throwing off the warm covers, Orinn swung his legs out of
bed and groped for his leathers. He’d have to prepare
himself for the night to come, or he wouldn’t be enjoying a
lazy morning again, ever.
Settling his gear comfortably about him, the ruggedly handsome
assassin strode confidently out of the room, its cozy warmth a
sanctuary no longer. He descended the stairs lightly and passed
through the common room, nodding to the tired young maid behind
the bar. Stepping out into the brisk spring air, Orinn breathed
deep, enjoying for the first time in over a month the sharp,
salty tang of the sea. If he lived through the night, he thought,
he’d never again think badly of the sailors that worked the
waves. They were smart enough to avoid vampires, weren’t
they?
Orinn used the day to prepare himself; purchasing a couple items
he thought might aid him. By noon, he stood in front of the dour,
imposing structure that housed the city’s Mage Guild. He had
a little talent for spells, though most of the one’s he knew
would be of little use against the likes of Mistress Varina.
Still, he might regret not having a bit of extra magic about him,
so he pulled the massive ironbound door open and stepped within.
In one corner of the great entry hall, a wizened old gnome of a
man hunched over a huge, leather-bound tome. At the sound of
Orinn’s entry, the old man glanced up, bushy brows wriggling
together in what Orinn supposed was an attempt at a scowl. With a
harsh, grating voice, the man asked, “What ‘ave you,
then,” and sent his eyebrows wriggling once more.
“I’m here for some training, I need a little work on my
destruction magic.” True enough, a good flame spell would be
nice to have when facing a vampire, he thought. He’d have to
see what the guild had available in that area.
The old man pulled himself to his feet, adjusting the
surprisingly fine robe he wore, and stumped up to Orinn. He
glared up with one eye, while squinting the other closed, and
sniffed derisively. “Ya, you’ve got some talent. You
ken join the guild, I ‘spose.” The rickety old mage
turned and shuffled back to his desk. Once he was seated, his
eyebrows rolled about once more. “Well,” he growled,
“go on then, top of the third stair to the right, Lustra ken
give yer some training, much good that’ll do.”
Dismissing Orinn completely, the old codger hunched once more
over his book.
The assassin blinked. “Er, thanks,” he said; the man
didn’t respond, didn’t acknowledge him in any way.
“Third stair to the right… His right, or mine?”
Orinn turned and headed off, trying to find the training room.
After walking in on the Master Artificer and interrupting, with
somewhat disastrous results, a Daedra summoner, Orinn finally
stumbled upon the right room, on the first floor, all the way in
the back of the building. He was muttering, “top of the
stairs, my ass,” when he entered the training facility, only
to find it empty.
With a sigh, the High Elf settled himself into one of the high-backed
wooden chairs that were scattered about the room, positioning it
to give him a view of the door. He’d just have to wait.
He’d been cooling his heels for upwards of half an hour when
the Training Instructor breezed into the room. She was a little
thing, barely topping five feet. Her slight frame hardly seemed
capable of containing so much raw power. She had her thick mass
of honey blonde hair secured in a loose ponytail and she wore
tight form-fitting black leggings and a colorful, baggy orange
blouse that did an all too thorough job of covering whatever
charms the petite woman had beneath. The stirring in his groin
didn’t surprise him in the least.
It was almost another minute before she noticed Orinn slouched in
his chair, and the assassin took every second of that time to
observe the lovely mage’s movements.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, setting a spellbook down on one
of the bookshelves scattered about the room, “I didn’t
see you there.” She wiped her hands down her thighs, an
unconscious gesture that Orinn thought was thoroughly alluring.
“I’m called Lustra,” she continued, “what can
I do for you?”
“Perfectly alright,” he said, rising and sketching a
quick bow. “I’ve come for a little training. It seems I’ll
be fighting vampires in the near future, and thought a little
magical augmentation might be called for,” he grinned,
pretending to jest, but the strain around his eyes hinted that he
might not be exaggerating, and the observant mage didn’t
miss the sign.
“Vampires, hmm? Let’s see…” Catching up one
of the many books that littered the room, the mage flipped
quickly through it, then grabbed another. “I don’t
suppose you know which clan you’ll be facing?” she
asked, never slowing her search.
He shrugged. “Sorry, I didn’t ask. She’s pretty
intense though, and very, um…” Orinn was surprised at
how hesitant he was at mentioning Mistress Varina’s
distinguishing features. He rushed through it quickly though, and
saw the first spark of real interest in the petite woman’s
eyes.
“You say she bit her servant on the inner thigh? Was there
any,” she blushed slightly, “was there any, um, sexual
tension?”
“Oh, yes.”
“You saw the whole sequence?” Lustra seemed absolutely
fascinated. “I’ve heard of the Erossian Vampires
before, but if you aren’t prepared there’s very little
you can do against them.” She closed the book she been
scanning. “I did hear one rumor that claimed the Erossians
were more susceptible to charms than other vampires. It’s
said that when they gained their seductive powers, they opened
themselves up to enchantment magic.” She smiled softly at
Orinn, and he noticed just how beautiful her large brown, gold-flecked
eyes were. “I don’t know if this might help you though.
Can you manage charms to any degree?”
“I can cast a few, but none of them are very powerful. Can
you teach me any?” Orinn looked intently at the petite woman.
If she couldn’t help, he knew he’d have to leave
Daggerfall quickly.
Lustra nibbled on her lip, quite fetchingly, Orinn thought.
“Well, I don’t think I can teach you anything today
that might be of use, but,” she stepped over to one of the
charts on the wall, scanning down it quickly, finally tapping a
line near the bottom. “We do have a little something that
will let you ward off the vampire’s charms, and that should
allow you to function normally.” She flipped her thick
ponytail over her far shoulder and told him directly, “you’ll
have to earn it though, I can’t simply be giving away the
Guild’s magical treasures.”
Orinn shrugged, not daunted in the least. “What’ll I
have to do?”
“Well, you can go ask Arnie out front for a job; the guild
always has something that needs doing…or you can…,”
she hesitated briefly, as if she felt awkward about offering the
elf a personal job. “Well, I’ll be working on a spell
tonight, a summoning that I’ve been researching. It’s
very dangerous, and I’ll need to be undisturbed for a good
three hours, starting at midnight. If you can put off facing the
vampire until tomorrow, you’ll be earning the warding stone
and doing me a favor at the same time.” Lustra looked at the
floor, unwilling to meet Orinn’s gaze for some reason.
“Are you willing?”
“If it gets me something that’ll defeat the vampire’s
charms, I’ll do it. As for putting off facing the thing,
gods! If I thought I could get away with it, I’d never face
her.” He shrugged. “If I wish to stay in Daggerfall
though, and I do, then eventually we’ll meet.” Sooner
rather than later, he thought, judging from what he’d
overheard.
Lustra waved one delicate hand, dismissing his worries. “That’s
not a problem at the moment, for even a vampire can’t
penetrate the guild. You can stay here until this evening. In the
morning, you’ll be ready to face whatever she can throw at
you.”
“So be it then.”
The rest of the day passed quickly. Orinn had little to do, so he
spent the time perusing some of the librams that were scattered
throughout the vast guildhall. A lad of little more than twelve
came around at dusk and lit the few torches that lined the entry
hall, where Orinn was currently reading at a table only two back
from the cranky old man he’d met when he’d arrived. The
old coot hadn’t seemed to move from that spot all day, and
seemed determined to spend the night there as well. His only
concession to the deepening gloom was to fire up the battered old
oil lamp that hung from the column his rickety table rested
against.
Finally, the lad that had lit the torches returned. “Sir,
Lady Lustra requests your presence in her chambers. If you follow
me, I’ll take you there.”
Orinn shut the tome he’d been trying to decipher with little
success. As he rose, he said, “My thanks lad, lead the way.”
Lustra’s suite of rooms was down a long hall and through yet
another library, hidden in one of the far off corners of the
Guild Hall. Orinn’s young guide explained that all of the
instructors, as well as some of the more senior members of the
Guild, were provided rooms here, since they were likely to be
spending the majority of their time within the walls anyway.
As the boy showed Orinn into Lustra’s study, the lady
herself was gathering up the last of the materials she needed for
the evening. The assassin stepped forward to assist, relieving
her of a couple of the heavy books. “Don’t lose the
place markers, it’ll take forever to find the right passages
if you do.” She handed a batch of candles to the youngster.
“Thank you, Issian.”
Lustra led the way to the summoning chamber. Orinn couldn’t
help but notice the way that the voluminous black and gold robes
she now wore swayed about her, doing their best to conceal her
feminine curves. In his modest opinion, it was doing an all too
efficient job. The lady mage led the way back to the entry hall,
leading her little troop past Arnie once more, who barely
acknowledged their presence.
Finally, they entered the summoning chamber. To Orinn’s vast
amusement, it was the chamber at the top of the third stair to
the right, the same room in which he’d interrupted the
Daedra summoner earlier that day. He snickered.
Orinn watched as Lustra prepared for some summoning of her own.
With the eager though solemn help of the young page, she set
about readying the room. First, she thoroughly examined the
silver and iron summoning circle inlaid in the chamber’s
floor. Next, she positioned a number of candles, seemingly at
random around the room. Orinn could not see any rhyme or reason
for the positions she chose. Finally, she gathered the remnants
together and placed them carefully, along with the books the elf
had helped her with, on a small shelf to the right of the chamber’s
heavy oaken door. With a nod, she sent the boy from the room and
absently smoothed her robes with the same unconscious gesture
Orinn had noted earlier that day.
“I’m glad you agreed to watch me, Orinn,” the lady
stated, once she had everything settled to her liking. “Your
tasks tonight are twofold. First, I’ll need you to keep
anyone that happens to show up from bothering me. Once I enter my
trance, interruptions will likely be, well, catastrophic.”
She looked down, then quickly back, her gold-flecked eyes
seemingly troubled. “If I lose control of the spell though,
you’ll have to keep me from doing something foolish. I can’t
say for sure what might happen, but the last mage that failed at
this spell tried to murder everyone in the building. Please, if I
should suddenly attack you, subdue me quickly and follow the
directions in the larger red book to bring me back.” She
glanced toward the stand where said book lay. “Either way,
whether I’m successful or not, you’ll earn the Warding
Stone. Understand?”
“Of course.” Orinn threw the bolt on the door, securing
it, then leaned casually against the wall. Lustra had said that
the full spell would take about three hours. He’d have
little difficulty subduing the girl if she tried to attack him,
so he wasn’t worried on that front. Hopefully, this Warding
Stone Lustra was talking about would put him on an even footing
with the vampire. If he didn’t have to worry about her
magical charms, he was sure he could take her with his blades.
Orinn watched Lustra methodically prepare for the endeavor she
was about to attempt. The technical details did not interest him
at all; casting such a spell was well beyond his meager skills,
and always would be. He was more interested in the play of the
petite woman’s robes as they pulled tantalizingly against
her curves while she knelt before the silver-and-iron summoning
circle. He couldn’t resist trying to picture the comely mage
without those voluminous robes.
The elven assassin entertained himself with these lascivious
thoughts for a while, before beginning once more to dwell on the
monster he would likely be facing the very next night. It was the
unsettling tightening in the air; a mystical pressure that was
building steadily, that returned his attention to the kneeling
blonde in the center of the room.
Lustra’s eyes were firmly closed as she ruthlessly focused
her concentration on the spell. She was slowly weaving her hands
through subtly intricate gestures in the air before her, coaxing
more and more power into existence while murmuring softly under
her breath. Ever so slowly, a roiling cloud of wispy vapor formed
within the magic circle, with every passing minute growing a bit
darker and seemingly more substantial. It soon started to pulse
with a throbbing, almost painful thrum, making Orinn wince.
Hissing sibilantly, Lustra now whipped her arms frantically
through the air, fingers flying though their fluttering dance.
Sweat streamed freely down her face, darkening the close collar
of her robes. Her breath came in short gasps. To Orinn it seemed
as if she were on the verge of collapse, her energies spent in
trying to keep control of the floating nothing within the silver
circle.
When it happened, Orinn barely had time to register it. One
second, Lustra’s frantic form was practically screaming
words that the assassin could still not quite grasp the meaning
of. In the next, he saw the edge of the girl’s robe shift
ever so slightly, disturbed by her extreme flailing, for an
instant only passing beyond the circle’s restraining
boundary.
With a sudden, almost painful implosion of sound, the writhing,
agitated black cloud shot though the boundary, catching Lustra
full in the face. The blonde jerked back, slamming painfully to
the floor, eyes now wide and staring as she futilely attempted to
ward off the thing which was even now flowing swiftly into her
silently screaming mouth, disappearing up her flaring nostrils.
In moments, the mage, her wide-eyed startled expression never
changing, was lying alone on the floor, body twitching
uncontrollably.
As Orinn rushed to her side, Lustra breathed deep, a great
heaving sigh of release, then limply collapsed, her eyes rolling
up into her head, her limbs sprawled across the floor. Orinn
dropped to his knees, swearing under his breath, and ever so
gently pulled the girl’s limp form into a sitting position,
propping her against him as he struggled to think of something,
anything, that might help. “Damn it, what in the hells
happened!”
The lady had said he would find what he needed in the big red
book, he remembered, cradling Lustra’s head for a second
before gently laying her down and rushing over to the shelf by
the door. He’d hardly had a chance to open it, though, didn’t
have a chance to begin hunting through the book for answers,
before he heard the swish of Lustra’s heavy robes against
the cold stone of the floor. He quickly glanced over his
shoulder, then froze.
The lady was standing; her small form crouched low. Stray wisps
of golden hair floated wildly about her head, pulled free during
the frenetic movements of the summoning and its violent ending,
though for the most part her braid was still intact. Orinn wasn’t
concerned about her hair though. Her hair was the least of his
worries. Lustra’s face, so sweet and dainty only a short
time before, was now twisted into a mask of cold, inhuman rage.
Even that wouldn’t have been so bad, but the girl’s
eyes, such a lovely brown with the beautiful golden highlights
that he had admired earlier, had become bottomless pools of inky,
glistening blackness.
With a hissing screech, the thing that had been Lustra sprang
forward, slashing at Orinn with fingers curled into savage claws.
Tumbling low, the elven assassin easily avoided the girl’s
rush. He wasn’t prepared for how amazingly fast she’d
become though, and barely avoided her follow-up strike. As it
was, Lustra’s fingernails, as ebon-hued now as her eyes,
caught hold of a fold in his armor and tore a gaping hole in it,
sending the elf across the room.
“Damn me to hell,” he mumbled as he quickly scanned the
damage the girl had caused. The rent in his armor left his side
exposed to any following attacks. He’d have to be careful.
He was able to avoid the next headlong attack and the now-expected
follow-up, but it wasn’t easy. By the time he sank into a
battle crouch, dagger held low, Lustra was rushing once more upon
him.
This time, Orinn blocked her, slipping within her reach and
warding her off with a raised arm. Before the girl could whip her
other hand in, he slammed into her, his knee smashing into her
solar plexus, hard.
Whatever possessed her, it seemed it still had to breathe. With
an explosive gasp, Lustra dropped to her knees, mouth gaping,
trying to draw air into her paralyzed lungs. Using the precious
seconds he’d just gained, Orinn hit the girl behind the ear
with the hilt of his dagger, knocking her cold. Hopefully, she’d
be out long enough for him to find out how to cure her. Quickly
and surely, Orinn yanked off the sash of Lustra’s robe and
securely tied her hands behind her. He wasn’t confident the
bonds would hold, but it was the best he could do.
Once reasonably sure she was subdued, Orinn recovered the red
book, which had been knocked to the floor during Lustra’s
first attack, and flipped to the first mark. Not a damn thing
that had anything to do with summoning! What the hell?
He finally found the right mark, near the middle of the book.
Daedra Yllisn, ‘the Whispering Fury.’ Well, it had the
fury part right, he thought. Habits…powers…summoning…ah,
here it is, possession. Orinn had been absently muttering as he
read, something he did only when in a great hurry. Suddenly he
stopped and his jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be shitting
me!” He re-read the section on breaking a possession by the
Yllisn Daedra, just to make sure. Unbelievable!
Slamming the book shut, he returned to Lustra’s side, gently
picking her up and cradling her against him. “Lustra, I
really hope you knew what I would have to do to break this,
because if you wake up from this and didn’t, I’ll be up
the creek.” Glancing around, he headed for the door. “I’ll
be damned if I’m doing it here though.”
As he made his way back to Lustra’s apartment, he hoped the
book was right. According to the text, it seemed that the only
way the possession of the Yllisn Daedra, a creature of anger,
bitterness and hatred, could be broken was to make it experience
pleasure. Sexual stimulation of the host caused the Yllisn
agonizing pain, actually subduing it and allowing the host some
consciousness. The daedra would actually be destroyed, forced
back to its hellish home, if its host experienced pleasure to a
degree that resulted in an orgasm. Unbelievable!
Thankfully, old Arnie had finally retired and the Guild entry was
deserted. Orinn was able to carry the unconscious mage through
the Guild Hall without encountering another soul. He had to
struggle to get the door to Lustra’s rooms open, but once
inside, he let out a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn’t
have to worry about irate mages hurling spells at him for
knocking unconscious one of their own!
He hunted through the attached rooms until he found Lustra’s
bedchamber. As he entered, he was briefly surprised that it was
so feminine, though, he thought absently, it fit Lustra well. The
lacy, canopied bed was the centerpiece of the room, while an
ornate dressing table with a large mirror, the largest he’d
ever seen, stood against the wall across from the door. A thickly
padded lounge chair occupied the near corner, and a massive
wardrobe stood on the far side of the bed.
The décor barely registered on Orinn; he was too busy with
Lustra at the moment. As he tossed the girl to the bed she huffed
softly, stirring, beginning to wake up. Orinn hurried, quickly
untying the sash and using it to secure one of the girl’s
wrists to the bedpost. She moaned as he tightened the bond, and
stirred a bit more. It wouldn’t be long now.
Frantically, he tossed the apartment, trying to find anything
that he could use to secure her other arm and her feet. A woolen
scarf soon secured Lustra’s other wrist, the bell pull from
the main room, freed from its mooring by a quick swipe of his
dagger, served to bind one ankle, and a strip of linen he cut
right off the bed bound the other.
The High Elf finished the last knot not a moment too soon. With a
shrill scream of rage, Lustra awoke, thrashing about and
immediately attempting to attack, her black orbs wide with hate.
She moaned, teeth bared, when her bonds held. Orinn watched,
wary, while the possessed woman continued her frantic attempts at
breaking free, until finally she gave up. At the last, the thing
that had taken control of Lustra turned her head and glared
balefully at Orinn, never taking her eyes off of him. It panted
slightly, as if it were an eager dog held back by its master’s
leash, waiting for the least bit of slack before breaking free to
attack. Well, Orinn had made sure there wouldn’t be any
slack.
Moving closer, Orinn sat on the bed next to the bound woman, his
cold gaze locked on Lustra’s Daedra-fouled one. “Listen
close, my friend,” he hissed, bending close, while he slid
his dagger into position. “Listen close, because I only
intend to say this once. You’ve chosen the wrong time to
visit this Plane. It’s time you left.” With a vicious,
but eerily precise, slash, Orinn sundered the front of Lustra’s
robes, opening a ragged tear from her throat to her navel. With a
shrill howl of pure rage, the thing possessing Lustra once again
attempted to break free, and once again it was foiled, unable to
pull free of Orinn's ties.
The assassin ignored its efforts. He worked quickly and surely,
stripping Lustra’s clothing off methodically, until the
possessed mage, with only shredded and torn remnants at her
wrists and ankles, lay bare before him. Using a bit of cloth, the
remains of Lustra’s now-destroyed blouse, Orinn muffled the
creature's cries, ruthlessly stuffing Lustra’s mouth to
stifle the daedra’s protests.
Finally, Orinn looked upon the slim, tiny form before him, and he
couldn’t deny the building lust the sight aroused within him.
Lustra’s body, taut as it struggled endlessly to free itself
from Orinn’s bonds, glistened with a light sheen of sweat.
Her small breasts, heaving with every futile effort, were
tantalizingly sweet. A narrow waist and shapely hips drew his eye
down. Her slim legs, forced apart by the bonds about her ankles,
left exposed her most intimate secrets.
The soft muff of Lustra’s sex, even jerking about with the
daedra’s frantic struggles, seemed to call out to him. Orinn’s
realized his mouth was dry, parched, and it was with a conscious
effort that he closed it, for he had been gaping like some young
lad in his first whorehouse. Swallowing purposefully, he reached
out, lightly stroking the balls of his fingers along Lustra’s
silky inner thigh.
The response was immediate. The moaning stopped, and Lustra’s
body went rigid. Orinn glanced up to see that the rage had
vanished, replaced with a look of abject terror. The black
soulless eyes, however, remained.
Orinn returned to his exploration. According to the book, only
with an orgasm would the daedra truly be defeated. How he would
bring that about, though…
Once more his fingers trailed along Lustra’s inner thigh.
Higher and higher he went, slowing only when he’d come to
the dark blonde curls covering Lustra’s pubis. His fingers,
probing softly, explored the helpless woman’s sex, slipping
along the delicate folds, tracing her lower lips, lightly rolling
her soft, warm clit.
With yet another muffled scream, the possessed woman spasmed
wildly, doing everything in her power to dissuade this unwanted
attention. Orinn, with a look of annoyance, pressed down on her
hip, using his body to hold the girl still. Once more, eagerly,
he began his exploration.
Fingering Lustra’s clit brought more wails of anguish, which
he of course ignored. Slipping a finger lower, he probed the
bound mage’s vaginal hole, lightly stroking her gaping inner
lips as he did so. He was close to her sex now, his face only
inches away as he was forced to hold her down, and he could smell
her salty musk. Shifting slightly, he flicked out his tongue to
find her clit once more.
The struggles returned, though not as intense as before. Noting
this, Orinn assumed the pleasure he was giving Lustra was
breaking through the daedra’s hold at last. It was not long
before he had evidence of this, for his probing fingers were
shortly coated with Lustra’s own sweet dew. He continued to
service her puss, continuously licking and gently sucking on her
clit, while his fingers worked their way within her sensitive
folds, pressing ever further.
Feeling her hips buck once more, but in time to his ministrations
this time, Orinn shifted about, climbing between the girl’s
no longer struggling legs, never slacking in his work. From here,
he could glance up, to see that the black filling Lustra’s
eyes was no longer there, but instead her own gold-flecked brown
eyes stared back. He almost paused, but the fear that erupted
across her face prompted him to continue.
Orinn continued his tongue-lashing for what seemed like hours,
but finally, with a muffled, squealing groan, Lustra’s bound
body convulsed, the orgasm tearing through her soul to destroy
the evil taint of the daedra. Kneeling back between Lustra’s
slick thighs, Orinn watched as the smoky sign of the daedra’s
physical presence spouted from the mage’s nose, it’s
thin wisps only a fraction of what had entered. Those beautiful
golden-brown eyes stared up at him, tear-filled and grateful all
at once.
With a quick yank, Orinn pulled the gag free. “Easy now,
just rest. I’ll have you untied in a second.” She
nodded, sobbing softly. True to his word, Orinn had the bonds
removed quickly, then retrieved a down blanket from where he’d
tossed it to the floor in his first frantic search of the
apartment. He gently covered the still nude blonde, concern
etched on his face.
“Orinn, I—“
Orinn shook his head. “Get some rest. In the morning
everything will be better.” He turned to leave the room,
darkening the lantern before stepping to the door.
Still sobbing softly, Lustra called out in anguish, “Don’t
leave me!” Sitting up, clutching tight to the thick blanket,
she added, “please, will you…will you stay with…
with me?” Tears glistened in her eyes.
Orinn paused, thunderstruck. “I really don’t think—“
Lustra’s wail stopped him. The girl pleaded, “I don’t
want to be alone tonight, please!”
Nodding reluctantly, for he did not want to give the wrong
impression, he moved to the bed, pulling off his sundered armor
and removing his boots. Setting his gear near the foot of the
bed, he slipped beneath the thick blankets, still wearing his
tunic and trousers.
Lustra didn’t seem to mind. Clutching him tightly, she
curled up close against him, her warm flesh pressing tight,
molding to his body. She nestled her head into Orinn’s
shoulder, oblivious to the pained expression on his face. Orinn
felt every shift of her nude body. Shortly, he was well aware
that if she shifted a bit too far, she’d find that he was
not sleeping, but was oh so very wide awake!
Inevitably, it seemed, Lustra made that discovery. Her leg came
up, crossing Orinn’s hips, pressing her thigh against his
groin. He almost groaned at the pressure.
“Orinn, please, get undressed?” Lustra shifted her leg
once more, using it to stroke his manhood. “You’ve
saved my life tonight, have seen everything I have to offer. Am I
so horrible that you wish to spurn me? Do I seem tainted by the
daedra's foul touch?” The catch in her voice was
unmistakable.
Orinn, his wholly uncharacteristic chivalry destroyed with Lustra’s
query, soon found himself wrapped in the arms of the beautiful
Lustra. It was nearly dawn before the two finally fell asleep,
still entwined.
Here Ends Part III of The Trials of
Orinn
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