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tumbleweedtech · 1 year

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Fringilla x Roche

Rated: E (Now on ao3!)

Fringilla sighed. She had done many things for the Lodge over the years. Seduction, spying, murder. While Ban Ard may look down on Aretuza's body modifications, even those crusty old men were fallible enough to fall for carefully trained whims of a sorceress.

But she didn't know why Sheala wanted more information about some filthy squirrels. And she really didn't know why this grubby, aging commander was apparently the way to get the most up to date and accurate information on their leadership. What made it worse was the man just wouldn't talk - none of her usual tricks worked, so she resorted to simple seduction.

It was boring, listening to him grunt and she covered a wince by moaning as he twisted her nipples inelegantly. The man fucked like he had been given a battle maneuver to follow.

He was a siege engine, rubbing his still mostly soft cock against her cunt. His balls slapped lazily against her ass, and he smelled of days old sweat. The face he was making was unpleasant, and apparently he'd never learned how to put his mouth to proper use.

How was she ever going to get him to talk? His grimace as he pawed at her was tiring, so she pushed him away, pressing his hands above his head until he gripped the heavy curtains that surrounded the bed. Fringilla fondled his cock, half hard and clearly having trouble getting into the groove of tonight's expectations. She straddled him, finding herself pleased to watch his hands flex as he stared at her breasts. "You know, I've fucked some of your friends, Commander." He didn't appear to like his rank in bed, having frowned and complained before. Call him Vernon, he insisted. She would not.

Phillipa was always better at faking affection. Fringilla found she had other priorities at the moment as she fiddled with the chain she'd made him keep on. It hung long and heavy now that it wasn't held in place by the small fasteners on his gambeson.

It was ugly, like him. She picked up the medallion with the lilies, as she ground her hips against his cock, just hard enough that it was a pleasing sensation that sparked pleasure through her core. Perhaps the man wasn't entirely useless? Fringilla raked her nails down his chest as she sought her own pleasure, arching her back and fully aware she made a beautiful sight. "Geralt spent months with me. We fucked on every surface of my chambers, and plenty other places." She watched his face, as he listened to her words, uncertain where she was going with this. "Do you know what I was surprised, and quite delighted to find he enjoyed?" His eyes finally stopped watching the rhythmic bounce of her breasts as she'd caught his curiosity. "He wanted me to fuck him. Right up the ass, with this beautifully carved phallus. He loved it if you pulled his hair and called him pretty. What about you, Commander? Would you like it if I bent you over that desk and fucked the stupid out of you?" There was no mistaking the way his eyes darkened at the idea. "It makes me wonder, if those witchers got up to the same thing we did in Aretuza. You pile a bunch of hormonal teenagers together in a dormitory, there's bound to be a little experimentation. What about you, Commander? When did you discover how nice it was to have a nice thick cock shoved up your arse?" He flushed, "They frown on fraternization within ranks." "Ah. So no blue stripe orgies, then. What a shame. Is that why Foltest's dog chases squirrel tail so keenly, then?" The commander flinched full bodied, then. A hit. Perfect.

"You do, don't you? Do you have a favourite? I personally detest rape, Commander. Are you that sort of man, who takes more than he should in spoils of war?" He moved fast, and gripped her hips hard enough to bruise. "Never."

"But you do have a favourite?" She petted his chest, flicking gently at his nipples, dragging her nails gently down his sides before he relaxed enough that she could shift her hips subtly. "Those elven women are beautiful. Small hands - have you ever had an entire fist up your ass? Incredible experience. Or do you prefer just a standard flesh and blood cock? I've heard those elves tend to run a bit small, I'm not sure how satisfying that would be." His face twisted, and was clearly done listening to her talk as he shoved a hand between them, his thumb pressed the wrong side of too hard, making her hiss and flinch back. Had this man ever fucked a cunt before? He was clumsy and rough, and - ah. "What's his name, Commander? This one you'd have fuck you. Do you dream of it, when you're sleeping in the forest?" She leaned close, and whispered in his ear, pitching her voice lower. "Do you wonder what he looks like under his armor? Or have you seen him? Have you spied on him, sneaky and silent, as he washed? Maybe he caught you. Maybe he held you down, and called you the filthy dog you are. Would he fuck you? Or would you fuck him?" His grip was near painful on her hips, but he was lost in the fantasy as he quickly grew to not a shameful size in hardness. She was pleased to have prepared before gracing him with her presence. So many men she'd been sent to seduce treated an asshole no different than a cunt, attempting to just shove the cock in. She'd planned on playing at pain if he seemed into it, but his dick was covered in her own dampness and leaking quite heavily... If she broke the fantasy now to fetch the oil she wasn't sure she'd be able to hold it again, so she pressed forward, curving her hips and reaching back to guide him. "Fuck me like you'd fuck him, Commander. I won't break. Maybe I'll leave your bed, covered in your cum and go find him and fuck him too. Does he even like dick?" She did her best not to hiss as the head of his cock pressed against her asshole, breaching slowly. It was more slick than she'd expected but she still privately lamented the lack of oil. Her knees were starting to get sore, however, so it was time to hurry things up. "Maybe he's laughed at you, so slow to get it hard. Even while you slavered over my tits you were soft. Does he call you names, or does he call you Commander? Maybe you're nothing but a son of a bitch-"

She couldn't stifle the gasp of pain as he yanked her down, shoving his hard cock fully inside. "Whore. He calls me the son of a whore." He punctuated every word with another bruising, driving thrust, and Fringilla knew she'd feel this coupling for days after, but the pain eased fast as he pummeled her. There was no angle for her own pleasure here, but she'd finally gotten him talking so she dragged her nails up into his hair and pulled. "So fuck him, you whoreson. Scream his name, then. Maybe he'll hear you and come running. Would he save you from me? Or would he join us? Have you ever done that, Vernon?"

His hips stuttered as she dropped her voice into a sultry whisper. Geralt had liked "secrets" too. Men were so predictable. "I've taken two cocks at once before. It's delectable. Would you rather him fuck my cunt as you were buried deep in my ass? You would feel his dick inside me," She pressed her fingers against his stomach, feeling his muscles flex. "like this. Not touching. But stroking, so close" He groaned, and she thumbed at his nipples, twisting and plucking them gently as she continued telling him secrets he desperately wanted to hear. "Or maybe, he would want to fuck my asshole too. He could get the lubricant off the desk. And he could slide right in next to you. It'd be like he was fucking you directly, his spend mixed with yours, his dick right against yours. Call him, Vernon. We could fuck him together, right now. Maybe he'd even let you fuck him after. Maybe he'd call your name in bed." She ground into him, raked her nails down her chest as hard as she could, and cried out in as deep a register as she could manage "VERNON" It was more than he could handle, and he threw his head back, shouting startlingly loud, "Iorveth!" as his hips stuttered and he spent deep inside her. They panted, and he hissed as she shifted off of him, his soft cock now overstimulated, but he made no move to fetch a cloth. She wanted to be surprised at how thoughtless a lover he was, but he simply rose, ambled to the chamber pot to piss, dropped the ugly chain on the bedside table and promptly fell asleep. Fringilla sighed. She'd intended to rest the night here, but that was clearly not happening. So she finished pissing and cleaning herself before she dressed and silently padded out. She had a squirrel to find, that was apparently named Iorveth. He likely had the information Sheala wanted, and if Fringilla was lucky, she wouldn't have to fuck it out of him.

#Fuck Haters Write More Fic #Fringilla x Roche #The Witcher 3 #Book Fringilla my beloved #Rating: E

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