The Dragon King's Servant: Rise of the Daemon Queen

Chapter Five: Between the bars

Evangeline drank in his growing cock with a look of full satisfaction. Her lips
tightened around his swelling member as he pulsed, growing longer with
each stroke of her tongue and lips. Maaltaire leaned back and groaned,
fully resisting the urge to grab her long black hair and pull her closer. The
sensation of her lips around his tip was enough to make him want to blow
his entire load. So early in the morning he had less control over himself.
Something that she knew intimately. With a sly grin she reached up and
fondled his semi-loose testicles. Their firmness tightened when she cupped
them and his grunt of frustration only hastened her desire for his release.
Her own penis swelled in response as she tasted his thick precum on her
tongue. Again she tightened her lips and drew him in further. With one hand
on his balls and another on her own erection, she sucked his cock hard.
Without warning she leaned in and drank him in.
"Of hell. Angie." He huffed out, frustration and arousal thick in his voice.
'That's right, master. Cum for me.' She smiled and started sucking him
harder while pumping her own thickness. Maaltaire's head slumped back
as he rocked his hips forward.
"Shit. I'm...oh dear lady!" He squirmed and Angie leaned in and let his
throbbing cock unload every available drop of cum he had into her mouth.
At the same moment she whimpered as her erection expanded and
unleashed opalescent semen that was as glossy as a saltwater oyster
pearl. Her thick cum splattered on his testicles and she pulled away to
quickly clean up her own mess with her tongue.

*****

Lucian walked over to the sparring pole area. Nine foot tall wooden poles
set into the stone floor three feet deep. Around the middle were thick ropes
for bare handed strikes as well as armed. There were few who could match
the king of Vervania in skill and form. After five thousand years he had
more experience in battle than half of those on the royal council.
Nonetheless, he kept up his training. Like honing the edge of a blade,
unless it was sharpened and maintained regularly, it would be less than
effective. Lucian set himself in front of the pole and went to work with basic
striking patterns. Not only were they the foundation of any martial art but a
good way to warm up. In a wide low stance, heels evenly spaced apart, he
began a fluid rhythm of straight punches from the hip. The pole shuddered
and shook with each strike. Lucian measured each breath keeping them in
line with his strikes. The rough rope tied around the pole bit into Lucian's
skin which had started to bleed after the first one hundred straight strikes.
Lucian stepped forward into a long forward stance and started striking the
pole in offset punches with intense speed. Each hit shook the pole with the
sound of solid stone hitting solid wood. Lucian, barely aware of his bleeding
fists, continued to strike the rope which was fraying as his strikes wore
through their binding. His garnet gaze blazed as he unleashed a fraction of
his anger upon the pole. Each impact caused it to shift a little more and the
rope to break a little further. Flecks of blood flew forward with each punch.
In his mind, the pole had transformed into every enemy he had ever faced.
Bandits, rogue dragons, Bedelia, even the Vikara General at one point. His
fist, bleeding and raw, beat them into a bloody pulp. Shifting stances he
allowed himself to slide further into the combative trance. No longer
focused on the discipline of basics, he let the martial system of his Vervania
training seep through. With a fluid flow of continuity, he twisted
counterclockwise into a roundhouse kick, pivoted and circled back around
to a reverse roundhouse that shook the hole and cracked the fibers.
Unaware that staff and training warriors from the other end of the hall were
now watching him, he lost himself into the trance. His fist weaved like twin
serpents. His legs lashed out like wolves on the hunt, teeth bared. Never
did he pause or even take a moment to look over the damage he had
inflicted.

*****

Shauna had made a routine of early morning training since she had joined
the Vervanian army. Up before dawn and training until at least an hour past
sun up. She had also made it a point to use all of the training halls. While
she had one dedicated specifically for her, she liked going to them all.
Shauna had seen many things over her twenty eight years of life. Seeing
her uncle, the king of Vervania, unleashing his anger upon a wooden post
was not something she had ever seen. In truth she hadn't been sure Lucian
was capable of real anger. He was a calm person. Level headed and
always centered. She barely recognized the man who was attacking the
wooden post with bleeding fists. Flecks of blood and skin were in a wide
ring around him as he twisted and turned, moving like a serpent between
the sets of strikes. The fraying rope on the pole was a dark red as it
absorbed a good amount of his blood. What was even more surprising still,
was after each hit, the wooden pile splintered. The sounds of cracking
wood echoed with each strike. Shauna had supernatural strength and she
had tested her own limits out. She could haul a few hundred pounds over a
decent distance. That being said, breaking a pole the size of a small tree
with just bare hands and feet was not something she was sure she could
do. Nor did she intend on trying. When she heard a loud popping sound
after he struck the pole with a wide right hook, she ran over to him. She
had broken enough bones to know when someone had broken one of their
own.
"My King!" Shauna shouted.
Lucian, as though not noticing he had broken a knuckle, continued on with
his flurry of strikes. He twisted his feet in tight concentric circles, allowing
his hips to shift as he moved closer to the pole. His knee hit the wood and it
splintered further, the top half wobbled as it lost more of its structural
integrity. He stepped back and pivoted into a side kick, connecting with the
pole which resounded with a thunderous crack.
"Lucian!"
He jumped back from the pole and blinked out of his trance. Looking
around for a long moment he had almost forgotten where he was. When he
saw Shauna standing only a few feet away, a look of horror on her face, his
confusion only doubled. Then he felt the pain and looked down at his
bleeding fists. The skin had been scraped away and there were bits of
white showing where his bone peeked out.
The middle knuckle on his right hand was shifted back and to the right.
Shauna watched as new skin started to grow along the edges of the open
wounds. The draconic essence quickly clotted the bleeding and with
another pop, his knuckle reset itself and the fractured bones knitted. Red
tissue grew over the bone and in a matter of moments, his hands were
healed. However, it was not the healing that made her frown but his overall
demeanor. 'Is this what he is like without Auntie?' Her eyes slid past him to
the pillar which was broken in half and at any moment, prepared to fall to
the floor.
"What was that?" She asked, looking up at her uncle.
Lucian opened his mouth, prepared to laugh it all off. He couldn't though.
Not to her or to his brother. 'They really are far too much alike' he sighed
and sat down on the nearest bench. Shauna followed him and sat with half
a body space between them. Shauna knew what he was going through.
She had a good idea of how he was feeling, but damaging himself wasn't
the way to cope with it. She looked back at the wooden pole, then at his
healed hands.
"I'm sorry." She said after a long while had passed.
"For what?" He asked, looking at her with that same confused expression.
"I miss her too." Shauna smiled. "I miss her everyday. I can only imagine
how you must be feeling but-" she glanced at the pole and Lucian followed
her gaze.
"I know." He nodded. "When you've lived as long as I have. Sometimes it is
easy to get lost in the trance. To get lost in the memories and the feelings."
Shauna thought back to when she had beaten her brother into a bruised
unconscious state. She had gotten lost in the tirade of emotions which had
brought up memories and after only a few moments, she had no longer
seen her brother. Instead she saw the elves she had killed on the
battlefield. 'If that haunted me for months. How much haunts him?' She
wondered and drew in a deep breath.
"Does the pain help?" She asked, gesturing to his knuckles.
He lifted his hands up as if only just noticing them. There were no scars or
even an indication of having been hurt at all.
"There really isn't any pain when in that trance. Just..."
"The memory, right?" She asked, knowing all too well what he meant. "We
will get her back, my king. This I swear." Shauna leaned in and hugged
him.

*****

Melanie pushed and kicked with every ounce of strength she had at her
disposal. During the moment of emotional distress. The bars of the cage
had softened giving Melanie the understanding that they were tied to her
mental and emotional state. She wasn't sure how strong the resolve of an
ancient deity was but she was sure that she'd keep hers stronger. 'This
cage will not hold me!' She kicked out at the bent bar and it shifted angrily,
then, with a loud pop, the bottom of the bar slipped off the platform. Melanie
smiled and started pulling and pushing the frosted metal until it snapped off
at the top. She pulled it in and smirked. The space between the bars was
now big enough to put her arm through but only to the elbow. It was
progress though.