A Paladin's Training Ch. 14

The Servants all worked efficiently together, providing Aran with everything he needed from food, a bed, information, to helping him navigate the tunnels which came out at various places around Maralon. Sorla had taken to it like a duck to water, working with her fellow Servants as if she'd been born to it.

The pretty half-orc had been spending most of her nights bedding with Aran in the bedroom that had been provided for him -- against his wishes, no less; he would have been happy with a mattress on the floor somewhere, but they'd insisted -- while the rest of the Servants bedded down with each other as they saw fit, which usually meant all together.

Though the Servants weren't Gifted, they were still members of the Order, and as such they possessed the same healthy attitudes toward sex as any Paladin. It was not uncommon to pass one of the several adjoining rooms to see two or more Servants making love, often including Sorla.

One morning he had awoken to pleasure flooding through Bond from Sorla. At first, he thought she was pleasuring herself next to him, until he rolled over to find the bed empty. Sensing she wasn't far away, he ventured out of his room to find Erik, Lynelle, Liddea and Sorla all naked and tangled up in each other on the plush rug in the main living area.

Aran had gotten the feeling more than once that they might like him to join them, but so far, they hadn't asked, and he'd been so focused on finding these Gifted before the Heralds did, that he'd been content to sleep only with Sorla, at least for the time being.

Sara had also begun to behave a little more freely, often walking around without even her robe on, which Aran had no qualms about, as she was of age. Since her Gift had awakened, she had flourished, transforming rapidly in both in body and spirit; she was more woman than girl, now, though she still bore an attractive, youthful air. She had filled out more, too; the skinny, underfed urchin had been replaced by a glowingly healthy, beautiful young woman. In fact, she reminded Aran vaguely of Amina in the way her body was curved in just the right places, as if designed to draw the eye.

It was no surprise that Sara was the focus of many hungry glances, from the women as well as Erik. Aran had had to lay down the law regarding this, telling Sara in no uncertain terms there was to be no sex until her training had reached a suitable level. He'd also made the Servants aware of this.

Sara had been disappointed, but had begrudgingly accepted the rule. Aran felt for her; he remembered the intense sexual awakening that came with the Gift, and during his training, it had been bad enough just living with Elaina. He could only imagine the frustration poor Sara must be feeling, surrounded by scantily clad, attractive and willing Servants day in, day out, and be unable to enjoy it.

In the meantime, Aran had begun teaching Sara the basics of the Gift when he had time. She learned quickly, and could already -- after only a week -- do many of the things it had taken Aran months to learn.

She could expand and collapse her Gift at will, now, as well as attune her senses to her surroundings with excellent accuracy. Aran had tested her by tossing coins at her while she stood with her eyes closed, and she'd caught every one first time. He'd also begun teaching her introductory sword techniques, which she was studiously practicing in her spare time.

Aran had high hopes for her, and was eager to get her into Elaina's care.

It was late one night when he and Sylvia returned from a trip up to the city, disappointed they had still found no sign of any Gifted. Moving about unnoticed was getting increasingly difficult, as the streets of Maralon seemed to hold more Heralds by the day. Not for the first time, Aran was wondering where their growing numbers were coming from.

The underground home -- which they'd taken to calling 'The Hidden Temple' - was quiet when they entered, everyone probably already retired. Aran made for the washroom to get cleaned up after a full day in the smoky city, taking the time to boil some water over the fire first.

As he bathed, he appreciated how comfortable the Servants had made things, down here. Everything they needed was provided, and all in a way that didn't give away their location. The fireplace in the main room, for example, was at the bottom of a chute that took the smoke all the way to the surface and out behind a busy brickmaker's hut, where it vented unnoticed.

The washroom was the same idea, but with a drain cut into the stone floor that let the water out into Maralon's sewers, which seemed to run alongside the secret tunnels. Somehow, neither conduit ever intersected the other, which Aran found curious, to say the least.

Sitting on the wooden stool that stood over the drain, he squeezed the warm cloth at the nape of his neck, the warm water feeling good as it ran down his spine. He hoped Sorla was waiting for him in bed; sex or no, it would be good to curl up behind her.

The door came open, and he turned to see Sylvia slipping in, closing the door behind her. He had lit a couple of candles to see by, and her pale nudity was illuminated in the flickering orange light.

Aran had seen her in her robe, so he knew what her body looked like well enough, but there was something about the way she stood there before him, naked and vulnerable, big green eyes shining.

Without saying a word, she silently crossed the small room until she was standing between his thighs. Looking up at her pretty face, a perfect mix of elf and human, Aran encircled her slim body with his arms, drawing her to him.

Sylvia sighed as she let herself be drawn into his embrace, caressing his hair as he planted kisses between and around her petite breasts. She moaned softly when he captured a hard, pink nipple between his lips, slowly teasing it with his tongue.

His hands came down to grasp her tight buttocks, firm yet deliciously soft. He'd watched her perky bottom bounce past him far too many times to keep his hands off it now, so he squeezed her cheeks possessively, enjoying the way they fit perfectly into his palms.

She kissed him hard as she smoothly mounted him right there on the stool, pressing her hairless lips against his shaft, grinding her hips softly against him as their tongues melded.

Aran used his grip on her ass to pull her tighter against him, the wet heat of her pussy inflaming his desire.

"Fuck me," she whispered into his lips.

With a small adjustment, he positioned her atop the head of his cock, then lowered her down slowly, gradually spearing into her, watching her eyes flutter as she sank down.

She was incredibly tight, but wet and ready for him, and before long he was buried all the way inside her, kissing her neck, face and lips as he gave her body time to adjust to his size.

He could have adjusted the size of his member using the Gift, but reading Sylvia's needs told him that she wanted it this way, to feel full, to surrender her smaller body to him.

After a few moments, she began to slowly rock her hips, gripping handfuls of his hair as she clutched him tightly. Almost immediately, her body tensed, her pussy tightening even further around him as a cry of pleasure escaped her lips.

She'd just climaxed, and Aran had barely done a thing. Standing, he walked to the washroom wall and gently pinned Sylvia against it before tenderly -- but purposefully -- thrusting into her, easily supporting her weight.

Again and again, the half-elf screamed and clenched herself around him, her juices flowing freely enough to drip down over his balls and onto the stone floor.

"Aran," she whimpered into his neck at one point. "I can't -- I can't- Oh, fuck!"

Her words became unintelligible as he thrust into her again, sending her into yet another round of high-pitched screams. No doubt the others could hear her, but Aran didn't see how that was a problem.

The door opened, and Aran turned to see Lynelle, as naked as he and Sylvia, standing in the doorway. The beautiful elf leaned against the doorframe, a small smile on her face.

"I was wondering when this would happen," Lynelle said in her pleasantly lilting accent. "To be truthful, I had hoped for some time with you, Aran, but it appears my daughter has beat me to it."

Sylvia's mother didn't look disappointed, only amused as she took in the way Aran had her daughter pinned up against the wall. He'd stopped thrusting when Lynelle entered, and Sylvia had her head back against the wall, eyes closed and breathing hard.

"Well," Aran said, lifting his lover away from the wall and holding her against him. She snuggled into his neck, quite content to stay wrapped around him. "It's possible she's had enough for one night, so perhaps I should put her to bed, and you and I can see where the evening takes us?"

Lynelle nodded, flashing him a sultry smile. "I would like that very much. Come to my room when you're ready." As she turned to leave, she added, "and thank you, for taking care of Sylvia."

"Of course," Aran replied, grinning as he heard a soft snore from the little half-elf, who'd apparently fallen asleep right there in his arms.

Sylvia moaned softly in disappointment, but didn't fully wake, when he finally removed himself from her and lay her down on her bed. Drawing the covers over her, he kissed her softly on the lips before leaving her room and closing the door behind him.

He was glad she'd come to him tonight; he really did like her very much. He wondered if she would be open to Bonding with him. Perhaps he would ask her one day, when the world wasn't so chaotic; he had enough Bonded women as it was, and had not spent nearly enough time with any of them.

His thoughts fell to the wayside as he entered Lynelle's room to find the stunning elf lying back on her bed, candlelight playing over her flawless nude form. Where Sylvia was athletic and compact, Lynelle was tall and graceful, slender yet curved as if created by a master artist. Her breasts were a good handful, sitting proudly on her chest, and her hips flared out from her slim waist, down into long, creamy thighs.

Lynelle said nothing, just bit her lip as her eyes raked over his body, stopping at his still-hard cock for a moment before meeting his gaze and lifting a slim arm, beckoning him with a finger.

Aran had been watching Lynelle since he'd first met her, swaying enticingly around their underground home in her transparent robe, which did nothing to hide her delicious body from him.

His lust for the gorgeous elf came roaring to the fore as he stepped forward. With Sylvia, he'd been gentle, tender, but Lynelle was older, more experienced, and commanded a much different energy than her young daughter. His Gift told him what she wanted; she wanted to be lovingly ravaged, taken, overpowered. These were the ways she felt worshipped and desired.

In under a second, Aran was on top of her, kissing her hard, his tongue dancing with hers as she moaned into his mouth. Leaving her lips, he moved to her neck, nipping at the soft skin there as he captured her wrists in one hand and pinned them to the bed above her head.

"Oh, yes!" She breathed as he took control, dragging his lips down to her breasts and taking a hard, pink nipple into his mouth.

Lynelle cried out in approval, spreading her thighs as he gently raked his teeth over her soft flesh before releasing her wrists and moving lower, kissing his way over her flat belly and down to the smooth, hairless skin above her sex, which he gently bit, teasing her with what was to come.

Her outer lips were swollen with need, her inner lips pink and glistening with her wetness, but Aran made her wait for his tongue, instead kissing and nipping his way up and down the silky skin of her inner thighs, to which she responded by twitching her hips, trying to move her pussy closer to his face.

"Please, Aran! Give me your tongue!" She whimpered, a touch of desperation in her sweet voice.

It wasn't until his tongue touched her moist folds that he remembered how good elven pussy tasted; it reminded him of honey.

Lynelle moaned continuously while mauling her ample tits as he devoured her, her juices coating his lips and chin in a wet sheen. When his lips enveloped her clitoris, she let loose a string of elvish and clutched his head in her hands, holding him tightly to her while her body spasmed.

Where Sylvia had been almost shy, Lynelle was confident, expressive, and unashamed of what she wanted, and Aran was having a grand time giving it to her.

Reluctantly, Aran finished with her delicious pussy and sat back on his heels, between her legs.

Lynelle smiled up at him, her beautiful face flushed, her breasts heaving as she caught her breath.

"So, this is what it's like," she said with a laugh.

"What what's like?" Aran asked, running his hands over her thighs.

"Making love with a Paladin!"

"Oh, I'm just getting started, Lynelle," Aran said, giving her a playfully menacing glare.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she responded smokily, reaching for him with her arms, inviting him into her embrace.

Aran pressed himself down on her welcoming body, kissing her deeply as she expertly guided him inside her waiting sex with only a hitch of her hips. He sank to the hilt smoothly, then began to thrust as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, trying to pull him more tightly against her.

There was nothing else in his awareness but Lynelle, and her needs, and so he gave her his full and devoted attention, losing himself in her touch, her breath, and the warm embrace of her womanhood.

*

Aran had intended to return to his own bed that night, but instead stayed with Lynelle, making love for long hours until the sounds of people moving about in the living area began to float through the door, indicating that morning had come.

He was woken from his sleep by the door opening, and Sorla's pretty face poking in, her long black tresses hanging loose around her shoulders. The half-orc's mouth was curved in a knowing smile, the two small tusks on her lower jaw only just visible above her bottom lip.

Aran was naked, lying on his back, and an equally naked Lynelle was lying beside him, an arm and a thigh draped over him, her face resting on his chest. The blankets had ended up on the floor during their escapades, and they hadn't bothered to retrieve them before falling asleep.

Sorla took them in, her grin deepening. "Well, you two certainly had fun last night!"

Aran couldn't help but grin as he sat up, gently moving Lynelle's long limbs first. "Yes, we did, my love."

"I didn't get a wink of sleep, you know," Sorla said, moving into the room and leaning against the doorframe. She was wearing a robe, but it was untied, hanging open to display her hairless slit between her legs, her flat belly, and the insides of her mountainous breasts.

There was a look of mock anger on Sorla's face as she continued on to say, "I could feel everything you were feeling, which meant that I was lying in bed as randy as the hells!"

Aran couldn't help but laugh as he left the bed and went to her, slipping his hands inside the robe and around her waist. "That sounds truly awful," he said, kissing her tenderly.

She returned the kiss, breaking it to say, "I had to go and see Erik to scratch my itch."

"And I'm sure he hated having to 'scratch your itch,'" Aran responded dryly, kissing her again and sliding his hands down to her ample bottom, squeezing firmly.

"Well, he didn't seem to mind so much," Sorla murmured, sounding a little distracted by what Aran's hands were doing.

"I don't blame him," Aran whispered into her slightly pointed ear as he ran his hands up over her waist to her breasts, caressing them lightly.

She moaned in response, bringing one hand around to his back, while the other dropped between them to grasp his hard cock.

It was Aran's turn to moan as she began to stroke him, the Bond telling her exactly how to do so; the speed, the pressure, the intensity all perfect.

Suddenly Sorla's eyes cut from Aran's face to the bed behind him, and she smiled broadly. "Oh look, she's awake!"

Aran turned slightly to see Lynelle sitting up against the bed head, proudly nude and watching them with a lascivious smile. Her legs were spread, and one hand was slowly caressing the skin above her sex.

"Please continue," the elf said, biting her lip as her eyes wandered down to where Sorla's hand was wrapped around Aran's shaft.

They did just that, Aran removing Sorla's robe and taking her from behind right there in the doorway while Lynelle watched, her fingers flying in and out of her pussy all the while.

When Aran erupted, it was all over Sorla's face and chest as she knelt before him, her large, brown eyes gazing lovingly at him while she licked him clean. Once done, she stood and went to Lynelle, presenting her magnificent tits to the elf, who eagerly licked them clean, paying extra attention to Sorla's stiff, dark nipples.

Aran's cock twitched as he watched his two lovers enjoy each other. He would very much enjoy getting them both into bed at the next opportunity.

***

"Come on!" Urged the two elven women in unison as they all but dragged Elaina away from where she'd almost been raped by those beasts. They had to be Druids; what other creature could change between human and animal form like that?

Finding her feet, Elaina shook herself free of her rescuers and ran alongside them, wishing her breasts were less cumbersome; the damn things were bouncing wildly, unrestrained as they were. She was barely able to keep up with the fleet-footed elves, who seemed to glide across the forest floor, their soft boots barely touching the ground.

Above them, leaping through the canopy like monkeys, were more elves, halting frequently to fire more arrows into the trees to cover their escape.

Howls and roars echoed as arrows flew, spurring them to greater speeds, but Elaina knew it was pointless; the wolfish one had told her he could smell the Gift on her, which meant no matter where she ran, they would be able to track her.

Still, she refused to go down without a fight. Just as she opened her mouth to tell the elves to leave her to her fate, they suddenly split away to either side, vaulting up into the trees like acrobats.

Before they disappeared, the silver-haired one shouted, "keep running straight on! We've got you!"

Elaina put her head down and ran, wondering what the elves had planned. Truly, she didn't want to die, though she feared it not. She wanted to see the Order restored, to see Paladins freely walking the world.

She wanted to see Aran again.

So she ran, leaping over fallen logs and dodging trees, her Gift revealing obstacles before her eyes could see them. Above, she could sense the elves keeping pace with her in the trees

The howls continued, though they now sounded more pained than angry, more yelping than roaring, and were dwindling into the distance as she covered ground, not daring to slow down.

Just as hope began to rise, her Gift gave her the split-second's warning she needed, and she dropped to her knees at full tilt, wincing as the ground tore at her knees and shins.

The wolf, who had leaped from behind, sailed over Elaina's head, alighting smoothly as it spun to face her. No fewer than four arrows jutted from it's hide, the thick grey fur beneath the shafts matted with blood.

The massive beast -- standing almost as tall as she -- snarled menacingly as she got to her feet, but she refused to die lying down, especially before this monster.

In the canopy above, she could feel a half a dozen elves looking down on them with arrows knocked.

The wolf lunged, but not before six arrows hit home, sinking into it's fur. The beast yelped in pain, the lunge becoming a stumble as it fell at Elaina's feet, snapping it's jaws as it scrambled to rise.