A Most Harmonious Struggle

by MadcapGambler

Tags: #dom:female #dom:male #fantasy #m/f #sub:female #sub:male #pov:bottom #pov:top

In the mythical, hypnotic world of Uruth, an illustrious bard is hired to outplay an enchanting siren in order to secure a ship’s safe passage through her treacherous waters. But which song shall prevail?

  Derisive smile exploding across his face, splitting a grin to light up his irreverant, fair countenance, the bard gripped a coin in his perfect hand. He seemed to be fiery, yet cool--lovely, yet undeniably fierce. His mere presence was far more intimidating than any sea storm, including the one that currently sent the ship rocking rhythmically on the waves outside.

  "We're close," murmured he, who had commanded unofficial respect of each sailor from presence alone. "I can feel it."

  Even that whisper of a confirmation was enough to rouse the captain from his slumber--he awoke with a drowsy start. The rugged man's eyes followed the bard with awe and confusion as he stood and offered a hand to him. "Payment?" he purred, curling his fingers ever-so-slightly.

  The captain nodded frantically (causing his beard to bob with the nervous movements). His face was sort of scrappy-looking, all rustic with little charm left after so many years. Yet, even he looked to be intimidated--respectful, at the least. "O-of course. Here's a hundred," before promptly placing a well-worn leather coin purse in the bard's hand. The bard's cocky grin, however, quickly shifted into a sardonic smirk as he felt the bag enter his soft palm. There was pure silence, for a moment, unsteady as it was due to the frequent whispers of waves outside.

  "Pull my hair," he commanded, much to the captain's confusion.

  "W-wha--why?"

  "Because I like my hair to be pulled when I get fucked!" The back of his hand quickly struck across the captain's face, leaving a scorching red mark and causing spittle to fly from between his grizzled lips, which landed unceremoniously on the ground. There was a pause of--what was it? Shame? Fear? Arousal?--before the bard spoke up again. The half-elf's voice pierced and jabbed like a wicked knife. "Two hundred. I expect another payment when we land. For now..."--he smiled once again at the coin purse--"I'll be taking this."

  The captain, awestruck and apparently only capable of blinking repeatedly with jaw agape, simply watched as the bard blew him a kiss and walked away, entering the main deck area after grabbing his violin and bow--the former of which was enscribed with the word Hadaryn, in brilliant gold.

  The storm was as vicious as the dockworkers had foretold. Sailors were scrambling about, each one desperately attempting to get the ship ready for the coming events. All were apprehensive. Many were scared.

  Hadaryn was excited. Eagerly, he darted through the frantic crowd to make his way to the bow of the ship. Even though the well-worn vessel was being flung about like a child's plaything upon the waters, Hadaryn seemed to be able to keep ample footing; some of that elvish grace from his mother's side, he presumed. Though, he was equally grateful for his human father, for that man was responsible for the bard's ears coming to a nice point, rather than the horrendous knife-ears of full elves. Life was good for a half-elf in Uruth.

  And it was just about to get even better.

  "Where is this spawn of Anyrr, anyway?" he called out to nobody in particular; he was certain there was at least one person staring at him.

  "Anyrr?" came a response from a woman with a stupendously gravelly voice.

  Silence. Then, "Oh, you haven't studied the old gods. My apologies. I suppose I'll speak in the, er, layman's terms--where is this siren?"

  "Oh. Right. Well, if the course is correct, we should be encroaching on her territory. Usually, things get much more. Um. Comfortable, I suppose, around a siren's turf." Another moment of silence, filled only by the din of seamen's chatter and wave's rumble. "You'll... you're gonna protect us, right?" Her voice seemed to quake with a sliver of combined fear and awe.

  Finally, he turned around and graced her with a view of his powerful countenance (and caught sight of her--she wasn't bad to look at, with a mess of orange curls for hair and green eyes dulled by years of hardship, though complementary to her muscular stature). "Oh, darling. Of course I'll protect you cuties. You did pay me, after all. Least I can do is... lend you a hand." He flipped his bow to his violin and his violin to his chin, "And a song~!" as he played a pleasant-sounding fifth by causing his bow to elegantly slide across the A and E strings. Of course, it was perfectly in-tune.

  Just that one sound from his enchanted instrument was enough to tug at the woman's heart, a soft gasp caught in her throat as the note resonated within her. She resisted--barely--the urge to take a step closer to him. In that, she saw both beauty and danger; they seemed to combine for some strange sense of allure.

  Hadaryn simply chuckled. It was a delightful burst of sound carrying about the salty air with candor--a refreshing lilt that filled the orange-haired woman with bubbly delight in contrast to the anxiety of the siren's domain. It was just so easy to let him simply... be. To produce music and laughter that brought her mind to a slow and her loins to a low, broiling heat.

  Hot. Warm. Tepid... bitter cold. A burst of shrieking wind startled her senses, and she suddenly forced herself into the awareness that he was affecting her mind. She huffed with and exasperated sigh, swiftly clearing her head of any unsavory--or rather, far too savory--thoughts. Off she stormed, grumbling something about those damned tricky bards. Always up to something.

  Hadaryn simply continued to smile, ever-amused by this peculiar sailor. Seemed she needed to be up to something of her own, if the sexual nature of his charms had worked to their full function.

  Still, it couldn't be all fun; he had been hired for a rather high-mark job, and high-mark jobs typically came with high-risk work. This siren was no paltry threat--especially if the sailors were hiring a bard of his level to deal with it. He almost felt a fizzle of fear in his chest, meager but moving enough to cause his confident smirk to stir. Regardless, he quashed it without a second thought. Insecurity could very well be a skilled bard's downfall.

  Though, sing of a siren and she shall respond. As if on-cue, the forlorn clouds began to listlessly part, drifting languidly through the sky and making way for curious spears of sunlight to pierce the boat's main deck. The bow was bathed in sudden, paradisiacal day as the effects of a siren's lair came into view.

  To the layman, sudden dispersal of a wicked windstorm would be a blessing. However, these were experienced travelers aboard The Odyssey's Apex, and such a sight was far more ominous than any screaming gale.

  The waters grew calm, allowing the ship to rock itself back into a comfortable cruise, gently splitting the waves as it progressed onward at a much more controlled rate. Each sailor was bathed in the sun of dawn. Droplets of water glistened in their own fantasies. Cliffs hung high off the starboard beam. Low suspense gave way to full terror--crewmates frantically ran about, readying the ship for the oncoming song.

  Charming and reckless demeanor suddenly gone, the bard swallowed and raised the violin to a comfortable resting point, nestled between his shoulder and chin. Though he was fully prepared to play a beautiful and complex melody (which he had, much to his own surprise, actualy rehearsed), he knew that he must wait.

  And then, he heard it. Softly-pointed ears twitched as it started to grace his senses. Sailors were caught off-guard, some of them seeming to freeze in place as their chests swelled with adoration for even the slightest hint of the song carrying across the water.

  Hadaryn was far more experienced than they with the art of song, and was thusly better equipped to resist its influences. He told himself that he had heard better, even though it was a tough contest considering the thousands of songs he had heard in his life. Beyond that, this was not his first time dealing with sirens. A low, resounding stroke of the G string swept across the deck, followed by shreds of sparkle flitting about the air.

  And, with that, he swept himself and the crew into a merry fiddle tune, quickly outplaying the siren. Her voice had been hauntingly mesmerizing, but Hadaryn's had the advantage of being quick, lilting, and inspiring. Smiles and chortles washed through the crew; they shook themselves out of melodic trance and began to put their efforts into speeding up the boat's progress through these risky waters.

    Oh, ye merry men and ladies fair,

    Sired sons and grateful heirs,

    Have thrown away your father's gold...

  He paused, leaving the crew in suspense, before grinning and hopping into the air,

    To hear y'another stories told!

  The crew cheered as fists arose and work continued, full and bountiful notes bringing them hope and comraderie in the face of danger. Laughter and merriment overpowered the siren's song, while the beaming sunshine of her lair proved to lighten the hearts of the travelers. Perhaps this wouldn't be so dangerous after all--danger itself was a concept now to laugh at, with their spirits so lifted to courage and bravery.

  However, certainty grew dimmer as the ship trudged forth. The siren was growing louder, its voice reminiscent of echoing, beautiful tragedy. It was inviting. Lonely. Begging, pleading for a kind sailor to partake in the eagerly shared ecstasy. It lazily wrapped its coils around their very souls without noticing, before suddenly yanking at their heartstrings. 

  Up and down the song traveled, men and women slowly losing vigor from the song's welcoming arms. It was almost sleepy, in a peculiar way that also accepted rest--so long as it was in the siren's arms. And why wouldn't one want to grow closer? Just a little bit, only. A little bit closer for that melody.

  It was so... beautiful. Hadaryn's song started to slow down, especially as they got close enough to see her (the song was nearly overpowering at that point). She sang with molten lips parted, fair brow furrowed softly to convey the passion with which she crooned. She sat upon a massive rock, flattened and smoothed by centuries of erosion. A glistening, blue tail protruded from her hips, though a slight dip accomodating for a human's womanhood was visible. Waist-up, her appearance befitted her voice; raven hair with unorganized (in the sort that nature itself was unorganized) blue streaks, full, welcoming bosom upon her chest and poised features of an elegant and chaste noblewoman.

    Oh, come for I have learned...

    A new story to tell...

    Of love for which I yearn...

  Each listener was silently begging for her to finish the rhyme, even Hadaryn.

    Do you love me as well...?

  "Cuh... hah. Hmm." Hadaryn smiled softly, lowering his violin with eyes practically reeking of infatuation. She was so beautiful, even from her distant spot on that lonely rock. So lonely. She deserved company. Join her. Join her...

  "C... c-crafty, bitch." Hadaryn forced himself to mutter, gritting his teeth and letting out a rallying cry, resuming the melody in full thrum. This siren was no joke, and he willed thoughts of danger into his mind before bellowing his magical tune.

    Oh! It presumes us bold, and we will show,

    That scoundrels and brigands shall never know,

    Thy hunting of the full moon's glow,

    'Tis time to let the ale flow!

  The rest of the crew seemed reluctant to leave the haze of her voice, but at least they were at the point where they had the option to. And, those that were heading to steer the ship towards the rocks were instead shocked to mere complacency.

  To Hadaryn, that was a win. Breaking even, at least.

  The Odyssey's Apex lurched forward as it slowed. Hadaryn loosed an elvish curse between lyrics, attempting to pick up his song. Something... satirical. Something to rouse their spirits, something to get them working again! They couldn't slow down now, with them so close to the siren; her words were louder than ever, needy, whimpering coos sending lolling waves through hearts and minds. Like a plague, it infected sailor after sailor--some were already making their way towards the steering wheel, higher thoughts numbed by sustained dreams of love and desire and... and love. Love. Hadaryn was oddly caught on that word. Did he... love her?

  "No!" he shouted, violin hitting a powerful falsetto note that quickly dropped back down into the earthy tones of his inspirational piece. With a surge of willpower fueled by stubbornness, he poured all of the magic that he could into his song, golden aura surrounding him as his sheer presence alone began to radiate magical charm. With a mighty cry, he had finally decided he was done merely inspiring, sick and tired of empowering the crew to resist the song themselves. He was going to take matters into his own hands, now turning to forcing the lullaby away. 

    Do not! Give i~n!

    As Hell, she sings in many guises,

    Stay strong... you must fight away her soo~oong!

  This was it. He was winning. The boat was already beginning to pass by the siren's rock, her expression tainting with soft (and gods, so beautiful) worry--soon, it would reach a point where their momentum would carry them away all its own. Her song was even weakening, evident by various folk shaking off its tantalizing influence and paying more attention to Hadaryn's music.
    Behold! Your triumph! For we ha-

  Suddenly, Hadaryn felt his body being wrenched from its comfortable spot upon the main deck, sharp points digging into his arms. His body froze with shock as he tried to make sense of what had just happened, what was currently happening. He clutched his violin and bow tightly while squirming in the grasp of whatever had caught him and was now... carrying him away. Eyes growing wide with panic, the boat began to slide away across the waters. Hadaryn yelped and kicked the air.

  As the bard regained some of his senses, he managed to get a good look at, and instantly recognize, his captor. In place of arms she bore massive, avian wings of a pale blue color, inlaid with curving stripes of pink and soft yellow. Her eagle-like talons held his shoulders firmly in their grasp as he was carried off, the woman's electric-blue eyes complemented by her fluffy, pink hair. Vest-pocket breasts clung tightly to her soaring figure. A harpy, to be certain--yet another spawn of Anyrr, and a female one at that. Predators that also relied on song to lure in hapless victims. Yet, she didn't seem to be singing, and, most shockingly, neither did the siren upon the rock.

  Wind roared in his ears, making any attempt at song completely inaudible. And, even worse, each time he attempted a non-verbal charm spell she suddenly dipped, as if threatening to drop him--and his ever-so-precious violin--into the waters below. All he could safely do was squirm, while spewing elvish insults that she either couldn't understand or simply couldn't hear.

  Eventually, after a short time of only having the harpy's wingbeats for company, he was impolitely dropped to the large, smooth rock of the siren. His violin and bow clattered from his grip as he unceremoniously fell into a heap on the ground. As he scrambled to recover, putting no small amount of effort into checking every inch of his violin, the harpy stepped forth.

  "Consider my debts repaid, Ell," she muttered while shooting the siren a look of disgust. Her voice was leathery, clearly a beautiful singer but consciously choosing to put a bit of extra moody vocal fry into her tone.

  The siren, however, allowed her full mellifluous nature to shine through in speech. "Do you forget your... other debts?"

  The harpy, with lack of human fingers, kicked her left talon up and curled her outer claws, leaving only the middle one standing in an obvious gesture of annoyance and finality. She flew away, wind striking the rock as her figure slowly grew smaller in the sky. Leaving only Hadaryn and... 'Ell.'

  "Nice to meet you," she husked. "I'm Ellisindrie, but you can just call me Ell. Or Mistress." Her voice up-close had roughly the same effects of her song from afar; undeniably pleasant, but overall resistible. Due to her lack of agility on land, she seemed to bear a consant 'lounging' position.

   Hadaryn had finally finished brushing his violin clean, and thusly recomposed his stature. With a defiant left foot placed forward, he scoffed, "I wouldn't consider pleasantries to be likely from a cannibalistic song-slut." It was an absurd insult, but drama was typically his style.

   She raised a hand to her chest and gasped in faux shock, at the same time drawing his eye to her ample bust. "Oh! I would never be so cruel as to eat my prey. No..." her expression flashed with a sardonic light, "I simply enslave them."

  "Where are all your slaves, then?"

  "Oh, you ought to make a woman cry, poking and prodding at such sensitive subjects," she pouted theatrically. "Why else do you think I would sing for a whole boat of would-be servals? I'm in the market to re-stock what I've tragically lost, and I think that you'll do just. Fine."

  She inhaled.

  Hadaryn glared, raising his bow to the strings. Though her song was by-far the most powerful he had ever heard from a siren, he wasn't too worried; he had always specialized more in charming than inspiring, and now he didn't have other people to worry about. He could show off his full potential.

  Hadaryn drew his bow, and Ellisindrie's chest heaved.

  Perhaps it was mere chance. Perhaps it was the doing of the old god Anskutt, mistress of fate. Perhaps it was just the combined musical intuition of the two skilled artists. 

  Regardless of how or why it happened, however, both of their songs happened to begin by forming a beautiful, unearthly chord that sent a hurricane of lascivious magic coursing through them. Hadaryn gasped, fingers nearly slipping from his bow at the sudden rush of bubbly static taking his head by storm. This was just the opening note--practically his excuse to see if his strings were out of tune. Why the hell was it having such a powerful effect? Though... it did feel incredible. His chest filled with adoration for music. Gods, he loved music. Why would he ever... question music? This was, without doubt, one of the most ecstasy-inducing songs he had ever heard; it practically caused him to melt.

  At the same time, Ellisindrie felt her throat suddenly tighten up at the sudden wave of heat through her loins. It constricted her powerful forte into a crooning whine, yet allowed her to overall maintain her note. Her fingers curled, head tilting slightly upwards as she made a vain attempt to brace her body against the rush of heat. She felt... taken, by this bard's glamour. His music was dulcet--yet fiery--and oh, how she had longed for somebody to join her on the pedestal of superiority! Each time she attempted to form a thought against this undeniable harmony, it was quickly swept away into her swelling heart. She wanted to continue her song, to move on to other notes, but... she couldn't find an ounce of will to wrench herself from harmonizing with the bard.

  Sheer magic was being suffused into the both of them like electricity, yet they still continued (regardless of the aching tent in Hadaryn's trousers and the dampness of Ellisindrie's womanhood). Moaning, whimpering, waiting for the other to give in first--yet also praying that the other would never stop, that they would play this harmonious blessing forever. Hadaryn shuddered to imagine what an actual song would sound like if they were to play together.

  Once the single chord had been played to Hadaryn and Ell's limits, both artists ceased. The langorous ocean waves provided a monotonous accompaniment to the new silence, in tandem with their hot, breathy sighs.

  Hadaryn couldn't stand anymore, legs far too wobbly to maintain any sort of balance. He collapsed into a sitting position, recovering from that immense experience. Fuck, that was good. The bard was now filled with hatred and remorse towards the fact that he and the siren were at odds. How he yearned to play together again. For now, though, he needed to dust the sparkle off of his mind and take a moment to recover. The way that their magics had intermingled... it was remarkable. His original plan had been to charm her into a sedative lust before trying to climb the cliffs to the East of their miniature island, but he was now considering enslaving her... a pet with that level of power would do quite nicely. Not just for his own conquests, but for some... personal pleasures, as well.

  However, it seemed that Ellisindrie had gathered enough strength to press onward. After the briefest of cessations, her lips once again poured forth a melody, this time far more than a single note. The song was soft, enchanting in its apparent ease yet clearly sung from a weakened siren.

    Sai~lor, you shall be mine,

    Your ta~lents will do just fine,

    Ma~ke you, my addled slave,

    Jo~in me, come be depraved~.

  The bard felt a gasp leave his throat as Ell's song struck his ears like a loving riptide. She had been the first to take advantage of the silence; she had been lucky. Gods, so lucky. Like a more subtle version of their previous chord, she caused a warm bundle in his chest to slowly melt like ice in a stream of warm water. Just... drifting away. He made a paltry attempt to resist the music by forcefully quickening his own breaths, but that, too, slowed. With a whimper and a shudder of his hips, he looked at Ellisindrie with an expression reeking of restrained adoration.

  Still panting from their first musical clash, the siren reciprocated with a sultry grin. Oh, thank the gods she had managed to slip her little song in--otherwise, this conflict would've continued far too long for her taste. All she wanted to do was indulge herself with a handsome new slave. The siren's whole body was... tingly, head still a little bit fuzzy. But, now that she was in the clear (that much was obvious by the bard's quickly-emptying eyes), she could actually enjoy this feeling, these echoes from their glorious harmony. She would likely get him to play something again once he was fully enslaved.

  The more she sang, the less Hadaryn was able to defend himself. Think of the college, he frantically thought to himself. Think of the college, think of the coll... ege. Think. Think. Think of the... something. What was he supposed to be thinking about, again...? "W... what," he panted, eyes soflty fluttering as his head lolled forward in confused apathy. His head was clearing out, but... he couldn't be panicked by it. The fact that his thoughts were melting away wasn't alarming, more quaint. But, the space in his head didn't remain empty for long; it was quickly flooded by a very pretty sound.

    I know you're so slee~py,

    Wanting to sleep wi~th me,

    But there's no need for fe~ar,

    Your newest love is he~re...

  And with that, the siren extended her arms invitingly to the bard. She was already growing quite fond of him--how couldn't she, with that adorable expression?--and thusly looked forward to keeping him as a luxury pet of sorts, maybe a little puppy to lap at her breasts without end, or perhaps a dancer woven in silken garments.

  Hadaryn felt his body sway as he lurched forward, using some of his remaining energy to slowly stumble over to this delightful woman. Earlier, he had hated the fact that the two had to be enemies. But, every little stroke of her voice against his heart was a little reassurance that: it was okay. They didn't have to be enemies. They could... just get closer. Closer. Get closer to her. Yesss...

  Dreamily, he was suddenly made aware of the fact that he was now laying before her, body prone against the smooth rock with his head tilted upward to look at Ellisindrie with silent plea.

  "Oh. Gorgeous," she cooed, pulling him up to rest his head against her plentiful bosom. It proved to be a soft, warm pillow, malleable and smooth against the bard's cheek. After a single moment's indulgent rest, his head was brought closer to hers--to a position where she was practically kissing his ear.

  "Such a good boy. Relax, relax, relax. You're safe. I love you." Sweet adoration was being poured directly into the half-elf's skull, and his chest swelled with pride every time she praised him. He would've swooned if he weren't so... so sleepy. She had told him that he was, so he instinctively took the siren's words as truth. And, as he did, he found that it was so easy. A dopey grin languidly spread across his face. This siren was so wonderful.

  And, as she continued to pump word after word of sweet affirmation into his sensitive ear (each hot, breathy murmur elicited pleasurable tingles all over his skin), his own image of her grew... inflated. Admiration turned into adoration, and adoration turned into idolization. Next was sure to be slavery... but spending more time with Ell, more time with her song... he was actually quite happy. It was a low, droning happiness that fuzzed up his pretty little thoughts and made them so much more agreeable. And why wouldn't he be? After all, Hadaryn had been trained to love all beauty at the bard's college.

  Hadaryn's eyes flew open before he dazily tossed his head upward, away from Ellisindrie's paradisiacal chest. Though his extremities were heavy and slightly numb, he managed to scramble within her gentle grasp. It was like his body was trying to fight back, hitching a ride on his most treasured memories to give him one last boost.

  From Hadaryn's lips came not a single word. Instead, it was a low, open-mouthed hum of a somewhat somber melody. Despite being quiet, he had the benefit of it being awfully close to Ell, and thusly bearing a more powerful effect. She seemed stunned for a moment--that was good. Hadaryn took the siren's tiniest pause and made the most out of it, using the silence to better his own music until it became a powerful wail, passionate and messy and loud. Though unorganized, he filled it with every ounce of magic that he could muster within his body. The sound echoed over the waters, his vehement emotion being expressed by this drawn-out yelp with earth-shaking magnitude.

  Ell gasped a whining moan as her spine arched in bliss. This forceful cry... it shook the siren to her very core, an unexplainable tingling emanating from her breasts and nethers. There was a scarily short pause before the tingling turned into a tidal wave of buzzes and surges of desire, wrenching her hand and planting it right against her cunt to begin savoring this song's effect. She really shouldn't be rubbing herself, but... oh, this was plenty good of an excuse, as his newly-found passion seeped her form with magic that turned her mind white.

  Eventually, the bard ran out of breath to continue his extended fragment of messy passion. And, when he did, he found himself collapsing.

  Right back into the siren's arms.

  There was no speech. Hell, there weren't even any songs. The only thing filling the air was the combined effort to remove Hadaryn's trousers. Now.

  In a flash, his lower body was nude and they were on each other. Hardly now were they a bard and a siren, warring with enchanted music--instead, they were reduced to a being with a cock and a being with a pussy. Both very needy. Both bearing beautiful voices now reduced to animalistic panting.

  The tension was broken, the war was over, Hadaryn's manhood was inside of her. He would've been somewhat shocked by how easily he slipped in, but his mind was on fire. While he had garnered up enough strength to sing his heart-rending tune, the caustic effects of Ellisindrie's voice had still well melted into his psyche, and he lusted for her like no other. His passion was realized as he began to thrust in and out of her, hips pumping forward and back with growing fervor. He was sure to keep his body close to hers, his own flat, hairless chest pressing against her pillowy tits.

  She reached up to kiss him, a gesture which was greatly reciprocated. Strangled moans were muffled by the bard's tongue slipping into her mouth to engage in a dance which left saliva running down her cheek. Ellisindrie's hands cradled his head as she worked her lips against his, bucking her hips up in tandem with his own movements. Gods, she was so hot. It certainly didn't help that she had never felt his way before; typically, she gained pleasure from wrapping sailors under her spell. But this... this was pure. Raw. 

  More. Oh, gods, she wanted more!

  And the bard was happy to give, as he sped up his movements. As he hungrily ran his fingers across her skin, he found that their kiss alone was electrifying, for it was borne of immense shattered sexual tension. Hadaryn continued to slam his hips against hers, using her moans and own hip movements to dictate what tempo he should stay at (he found it to be around 130 beats per minute). 

  While keeping her right hand on his head, firmly rooting him in the dance of lip and tongue, she dipped her left below to stimulate her clit--yet found that his fingers had beaten her there, already beginning to soflty rub. Clearly he was quite practiced, as he gently pinched the little button between his middle and forefinger, working it and, of course, alternating his pattern every few seconds or so (sometimes switching to using his thumb to rub in gentle circles on and around it, sometimes even experimenting with a peculiar tapping that she quite liked). It was... it was like a song.

  And, like a song, a crescendo was starting to build. It began low in the base of Hadaryn's hips, slowly traveling up his shaft until, like a bolt of lightning, it hit his frenum with a burst of bubbling-hot bliss.

  The siren was feeling similarly, with her moans increasing in both frequency and volume as her wet heat started to clench around his organ. It was building, like a panther stalking its prey, so torturously slow. Just as Ellisindrie was growing impatient, it struck an explosion of ecstasy into her entire lower body. She gripped her head, eyes screwing shut and vaginal walls rapidly pulsating around Hadaryn. 

  That was more than enough to send him over the edge in tandem--his slit exploded with semen, milky and hot and filling her with sheer satisfaction. Rope after rope he pumped into her, until the bard's cock was thoroughly coated in his own seed. As the last few drops dribbled from him, he remained inside of her, their kiss slowing down until they were simply idly resting their tongues in the other's mouth. Hadaryn collapsed, now laying side-by-side with Ellisindrie. Lazily, he retracted his tongue from between her luscious, plush lips and attempted to murmur something. It came out as a jumbled mess of syllables that Ellisindrie didn't much care to decipher. She just wanted to listen to his pretty voice.

  There was a moment of silence. The ocean continued to toss gentle waves against the cliffs, as if in bold denial of the unbridled lovemaking that had just occured on Ell's rock. Sweat covered each form, and their eyes were equally glossy with joyous afterglow. Each one thought, Though it feels so, this isn't right. Why am I experiencing such... peace, with my enemy? Perhaps...

  The little light in Hadaryn's eye was palpable, for it matched Ell's perfectly. A nonverbal conversation was shared, followed up by Hadaryn scooting up a little bit closer. The conclusion was clear: there would be equal benefits for both parties from an alliance, no?  
    
 
     
    
    
    
    
    

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