Going Feet First Ch. 05

"On the bed," she ordered.

Not willing to think about the consequences of disobeying, he stepped backward until tripped over and fell on the bed with Dreek landing right on top of him. She straddled his thighs and pulled up her shirt to caste it aside. A broad smile crossed her face as she let a wide-eyed Galen take in the sight of her admirable breasts, his young eyes unable to part from her grey nipples.

Her eyes narrowed as the part of the towel over his crotch started to rise. She made a clear show of looking down onto it and sucking in her lower lip. It took a second for the glow on his cheeks to spread down into his neck.

"Speak honestly about what you see," she said, tracing a hand down his chest. "I want to hear what runs through your mind."

Galen swallowed.

"Do you think me beautiful, my Lince'sa?" she asked, her fingers twirling around his belly just above the towel.

"I think you gorgeous, my Sut'rinos," he answered, his hands hesitantly sliding up onto her hips.

Her teeth flashed as she chuckled. "You are taking well to the Drow tongue, Kivvil."

"I... do... my best learning, my Commandant."

She beamed at him and tugged the towel down to reveal his throbbing erection. He squeezed her hips and inched his hands upward to just below her ribs, and a shift of his arms away from her breasts.

"I made a good choice in you."

There was no sign of rush in her movements as she leaned down and moved her hand along his shaft. Her violet eyes flickered in front of his, her powerful gaze stirring the embers in his chest. Then she brought her face closer to his, their eyes still locked. She could hear him stop breathing when she came this close, like he expected her to steal his breath away. Instead, she pressed her lips to his, her light kiss returned by his lively one.

As their mouths danced with one another, Galen shifted his hands down to undo the buttons in the front on her pants. With short, subtle tugs he tried to pull them down over her hips only they wouldn't budge. A sudden giggle passing her lips the Commandant rolled over beside him and stripped her bottoms off in a second before grabbing onto his arm and pushing him to sit up.

"On your knees, between my legs."

Grinning wildly, he wordlessly moved as ordered, dropping his towel and positioning himself below her. The view she presented to him then was a one at which he couldn't help but marvel. The naked body of a Drow far higher than him in rank, lying before him with her legs splayed for him to gaze at the welcoming view of her sex. Her dark labia had already grown puffy, and as if to tease him, she rubbed her hand through the neat strip of white hair above her obsidian clit and stroked two fingers over her waiting hole.

When he bit his lip, she narrowed her gleaming eyes and spread out the mouth of her sex.

"Fuck me."

The Private leaned down over her and moved his hips in line with hers. He brought the head of his cock to her cunt and planted his hands on the bed on either side of her chest, his dog tags hanging between them. The Commandant took hold of his shoulders and with a devilish smirk, gave his arm a squeeze.

In one smooth stroke Galen thrust into her body until his hips met her cheeks. Dreek's mouth gaped as she chuckled and gave her Pet a satisfied look. Already he had proven himself more filling than most males of her race, and even the two men she had from his. Then there were the ways that drew her other than what he stuck in her cunt.

There was no back talk from him on her words of command. When she presented her sex, he didn't make the immediate dive to ravage her until he hit his peak. And yet, he was not yielding and submissive as though he were the average male pulled from the streets of the Underdark.

Then there was that tender grace of his movements, the words she heard of his methods in bed, gossip he confirmed himself as he pulled back and gently pushed into her again, sending his prick as deep as he could into her.

"Yessss," she hissed in Drow.

Watching her blissful face, Galen set into a quick rhythm, pumping his cock into her and letting their flesh slap together. He hummed with pleasure every smooth stroke, the Drow commander matching every throb of his shaft with a squeeze from her pussy that sent goose bumps rolling over his back.

Giving a low moan as she took him to her fullest, Dreek let her hands retreat back down to her chest, cupping under her breasts and offering their full view to her Pet. Catching the gleam in his eyes, she wet her lips and moved her fingers to start rubbing circles around her dark nipples. Her chest buzzed with the stimulation, clenching her stomach muscles in a way that made Galen suck in a breath as he bottomed out inside her.

We both like when I do that, she grinned as her surfacer took his pace up again.

Beads of sweat started running off of Galen's chest then. As his arms grew tired of supporting his body over Dreek's he pulled out from her sat up straight. When she looked confused, he grabbed onto her hips and lifted them up to his. Her juices were dripping from his shaft when he realigned himself with her sex, his own pre-cum coating his head.

He was about to enter her pussy before Dreek abruptly threw one leg up and flipped herself over, presenting her ass to him in full.

No need to get complicated, I want it like this.

Though she hadn't spoken her thoughts, the welcoming look on her face said enough, and he didn't hesitate to grab onto her hips and drive in. The Commandant let out a cry of pleasure, one that turned to a low scream as the Private immediately took up his furious pace. With all his might he pounded into her body, one hand snaking around to toy with her clit while the other grabbed onto one of her breasts.

That's it, pleasure me, bring me to the finish...

As his middle finger stroked her bud, though, Dreek's cries took on a higher note, her muscles growing tighter and tighter underneath him. He felt her skin against his forearm clench right before she let out a cry that had her whole body shaking. A tide of her juices sprayed over Galen's hand, and the Private still powered into her, thrusting in his dick just to keep her on that high of orgasm as his own toes curled and shaft stiffened up.

In one final drive he slammed his hips into hers and hunched over her back, his cock spasmed inside her. The Commandant sucked in a breath when she felt that seed pour into her belly, flooding into her core. When his final spurt had been deposited she rolled him off her back and swiftly moved in to lie atop his chest... Taking in that warmth radiating off him that she had missed from a time long before...

Galen embraced her then with his arms, holding her close as he stared with a dumb grin on his face.

"It's nice, having the chance to lie down and let the world spin on its own," Dreek mumbled. "To have a moment such as this where I needn't have to attend to every detail, where every detail attends to me."

Galen chuckled. "Just wanna relax and enjoy some pamperin'?"

"Oh, yes. Were you a Commandant, you would understand."

"I think I get the idea. Switchin' off is good for you in the down time..." He shifted his hands then down her body, grinning at the surprised "Ooh" he provoked when he started massaging the small of her back.

"Would you help me 'switch off' then, give me my pampering?" Dreek whispered, sighing from her minor back massage.

"You need only ask."

She laughed briefly then, before looking up into his face. "Then we're going to need another bath."

..................

Petra sucked herself in to the shadow of a doorway as she waited for a horse patrol to pass by. The only thing to have saved her from getting caught thus far was the dim moonlight and the fur on her body. For the millionth time in her life, she thanked Necela it was black as coal.

As her heart rate settled, the assassin paused and concentrated on her place in the city. Fretheim's manor was only two blocks away, the wall in plain sight down the street. Only his men were everywhere. The assassin could not take the roof tops due to the numerous archers roaming every three houses. Open streets were too dangerous even in the dark as guards and lanterns were positioned at every corner. Even some alleyways she heard armed men clunking about.

This infuriated the Neko to no end as she had to wait for breaks in their patrol patterns, all of which were becoming fewer and farther in between the closer she got to the estate.

Bastard must have hired more men, the former Shadow Stalker thought. But why?

She remained pressed against the painted black door and continued to think. Her options were running out, and as much as she hated the idea, she may need to abandon her mission. Without Galen, without distractions, without Teirie, she could not advance without shedding blood.

With her utmost caution, she peered down the street toward the manor. There was an alley two houses down, but there was a guard lying in wait. The rat had sneezed moments before her previous move to hide within the gap between the buildings. At the next intersection were four guards, one posted at each corner with horsemen perpetually patrolling the blocks.

The change of guard already happened, and it was performed properly with two men staying on watch while the other two swapped out. Whatever Fretheim did, or whatever happened since last night, brought on a whole new façade of professionalism to what she previously saw as a poorly trained pack of incompetents.

They still were. The men did shift and yawn in their positions and often distract themselves with pointless chatter or looking around at whatever there was to look at. But their numbers still made up for their training. A lesson the people of Atzla learned in their war with this cesspool of a city.

"I thought I saw something this way, milord," a voice declared some distance away.

After that faint voice, the rattle of armor caught Petra's ear, and the fact it was drawing closer was clear. Listening closely, Petra guessed they were a block over, and moving in her direction.

Necela curse it all... she thought while slipping from her doorway, creeping down the street in the direction opposite of Fretheim's manor. She kept low, moving smooth along the buildings under the awnings above the doorways. Only one house over was an alley she knew to be unguarded.

"What's that? WHO'S THERE?" one of the guards from the intersection yelled.

Rak... Petra cursed as she sprang up on her feet and bolted. It wasn't the first time she had been spotted by her prey, but it was the first time in a long time. Escape and evade, hide and wait... curse this goddess-forsaken city!

There were no bushes to mask her movements, nor any trees to scale and use shroud herself within the canopy. There were only barren streets and stone houses. Without the crowd found in the day, it was impossible to escape.

Ahead of her she heard the hooves and the rattle of armor as guards moved to block her path ahead. A rider charged from her right as she approached the intersection, and those brave souls that had been guarding it were now forming a wall right in front of her with their swords and shields at the ready. If she kept full speed-

Crack!

The assassin stumbled as an arrow hit the ground in front of her, making her lose pace as she tried to avoid the fragments of metal sent out by the shattered arrowhead. When she had her footing again, she was right in the path of that horseman as he leaned over the side of his mount to grab onto her.

If only he had been wearing gloves or arm protection. She bounced to the side and lashed out with her claws at his forearm. That sent him into a wail before she spun to face the four men who were now rushing at her with their weapons high.

The first one to reach her came in with a broad, sweeping strike at her head. With grace the Shadow Stalker ducked the blade while sweeping with her leg to knock his feet out from under him. As he went to the ground backside first in a crash of steel, his three friends spread out, shields raised, swords readied to stab at a moment's notice.

They were waiting.

Immediately Petra stepped left, the entire trio moving to block her before she darted right. Rolling to avoid an arrow and a stab of a blade, she managed to get around their flank and continue down the street from which they had cut her off.

"Stop her!"

When you start running, everyone thinks you've done something, the Neko hissed at herself under her breath. Had you played innocent, you could've walked away...

It was a rookie mistake that she now had to pay for.

Her second mistake was that she should've heard the whistle coming through the air sooner.

A feral screech escaped her as something stabbed into her lower back, a powerful jolt causing every muscle in her body to freeze. Moving at the speed she was, she hit the street face first and slid to a halt. Something started shrieking then. Loud, ear-splitting to the point of tearing her skull apart. But this screech was not coming from the city. Her ears heard nothing, her mind heard everything.

White dots flashed in her vision as that sound escalated to a pitch agonizing for her feline senses. Had her body any power to move she would clasp her ears, but she could only whimper and let the tears run as her mind burned from the inside out at the tone of that... murderous howl. Right then she wanted that to end. Whatever it was, she wanted it to end.

"Nice toss, my lord."

"I've had practice."

Petra's eyes went wide. She tried to force her claws out, but anything beyond breathing and blinking proved impossible. Her muscles had gone numb, leaving her to sit in agony as that screech in her mind continued to tear her skull asunder.

"And it seems she is the one I saw jumping the wall."

"You sure, my lord?"

"Positive."

Without the muscle to resist, Petra only watched as her hands were pulled behind her back and listened as shackles clamped around her wrists and ankles. To her relief though, whatever was in her back that took her down was pulled free, her strength swiftly returning as silence flooded her mind.

Someone grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. Metal boots met the ground in slow, deliberate steps and the light of a lantern slowly circled around her. When he stopped in front of her, Petra could only grit her teeth and clench her clawed fists as she stared at his golden boots. A two-fingered hand wrapped in bandages came to her chin and lifted her head up so she could look into his dark, unforgiving eyes.

He still wore her master's jacket.

"You were with Galen back in Atzla, weren't you? You set him free?" Pretayus asked in a low voice.

The assassin only scowled at the slaver.

"Is he alive?"

She couldn't help but hiss.

"So he isn't?" Pretayus inferred.

"I will tear out your bowels so you eat your own shit before you die," she snarled.

"So he isn't," Pretayus muttered as he glanced to the side, stroking his chin. "A shame. Wanted to kill him myself. Did he die trying to get here? I heard there was a Drow attack that left few survivors... but not his body... perhaps the Drow took him down below to rape his hide before feeding him to their driders? There's a good thought..."

"Perhaps I'll take your tongue first..." Petra growled.

"Where does that leave you? A lost kitty wants vengeance for her dead master?"

The Shadow Stalker narrowed her eyes. He didn't know if Galen was dead. He wanted to believe it, he was trying to taunt her into saying something to the tune of "my master will come and kill you for this!" or some emotional line of the like. The slaver wasn't sure and he wanted to know. Two could play at that game.

"On his memory I will tear out your heart and use its ashes to honor his grave," she cursed.

"So he is. Well that saddens me, but now I have you. Galen's. Other. Servant. A fine, fine specimen..." Pretayus rose up, looking to a spiked disk in his hands.

"I'm sure you can learn to co-operate, submit to my service. Lest I have to use this again," he lifted the disk for her to see.

It was as wide as his hand. Thin. Edged with shallow spikes just deep enough for it to stick to whoever it was tossed at, though it was emblazoned with a symbol Petra had never seen. Corrupted with magic meant to paralyze and torture any as it had her. Likely a tool the slaver used to break... Petra froze at the thought.

Goddesses have mercy if he used it on Celia.

"A Shadow Stalker never submits. We succeed, or we die," Petra hissed. Granted the line wasn't true in her case with Galen, but that wasn't the point to her statement. Pretayus was too competent to escape. City guards however...

"She's a Ra'zorlich!" several men gasped, making Pretayus raise an eyebrow.

"So? She is the servant of a demon that was my enemy and by law she now she belongs to me."

"King's decree overrules all, Slavemaster," an authoritative voice declared from somewhere behind the assassin. "If she is a Ra'zorlich then she is now a prisoner of Redding. You own nothing."

"Captain, you can't-," Pretayus objected before several blades were drawn on him by men bearing the emblem of Redding's city guard.

"We can. Fretheim's stalker is caught, slaver. Leave."

"You'll regret not giving her to me."

"No, I won't. Now leave."

A small smirk cracked Petra's face as Pretayus glared at her.

"I will enjoy the moment the axe falls on your neck," he grumbled.

"So shall I," she hissed back.

The men holding onto Petra grabbed her and spun her around, bringing her to face with a man in plate armor decorated with silver trim. The flag of Redding was painted across his chest, though he did wear a purple kilt over his leg armor and bear an odd, silver pendant around his neck.

Through his full helm she felt his powerful gaze peering at her through the slots in his visor. For a few moments he merely gazed at her in silence. No words, no movements, just peered at her from the darkness of his helm before checking over his shoulder to ensure that Pretayus had stormed off back toward Fretheim's manor.

"By the King's third decree," he started, looking back at her. "You are an enemy of the kingdom of Redding, and by that decree, at his majesty's convenience, you are to be sentenced to death by beheading before the King. Take her to the stocks."

..................

A cramp was starting to work its way into Galen's leg as he stood with his rifle at attention in front of the Sun Kissed formation. His bayonet was fixed, his webbing tight to his black jacket, and his boots were as clean and polished as one could possibly make them with Drow resources. Any dirt that had been on his pants or helmet was scrubbed clean, and Dreek made sure he had been thoroughly rested to ensure he was as presentable as possible for their Princess Regent. The Commandant even gave him a silver etched scabbard for his sword to hang comfortably off his left hip.

Behind the Private were the forty six Dark Elves of the Sun-Kissed broken up into five ranks, all standing with their yellow armor polished so well it could almost pass for gold. Over their left shoulders hung their cloaks while their right hands kept flat down where the seams on their pants would be were they not wearing plate armor. The only notable differences between any of the Elves were their hair styles and the weapons they carried on their backs or hips.

Just in front of Galen at the front of the formation were the three Commandants in their own triangular formation with Jrastra at the head, Aufryn'uit on the right, and Dreek on the left. The three of them wore their white sashes over the hips of their armor with the symbols of their squads in full view. Dreek's Siks squad represented by two black suns, Jrastra's Bli'yaird squad represented by a trio of red snowflakes, and Aufryn'uit's Kahliizi squad represented by a grey skull in a smoke ring.