Stolen Glory

	To most of the masses across the lands, succubi are widely known as masterful temptresses able to seduce paladins wielding powerful magics that outshine most of humanity. These are both half truths. Succubi, while certainly capable of being much more perverse, are no more talented at the art of seduction than the best street corner whores in the country. Their magics, while impressive to most, are only on the level of an adept sorcerer, rather than that of near arch mage levels. The true strength of succubi lies instead in their silver tongue, with a gift for manipulation.

Succubi are manipulative by nature rather than by choice, and possess an uncanny knack of convincing others to do their bidding. This manipulation is oft responsible for the fall of many a paladin or adventurer, rather than seduction, leading them to betray their comrades and ilk for some other goal. Many researchers have speculated that the magics of a succubi are responsible for their ability to persuade others, having an aura of some kind of agreeability that their victims fall for. Other, more circumspect sources claim, “There is nothing more powerful, more convincing than the truth, be it pleasant or unpleasant.”

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	Glory and recognition.

	That’s all you ever wanted. It was the reason you saved up all those years to buy your pride and joy, a crank arbalest. The thing was a machine of death, able to put and keep anything down on their ass with one high powered bolt. Certainly it was bad against crowds, and a bit slow to reload but whatever you hit, and you rarely missed, was guaranteed knocked out. Hell, you could even kill great beasts dead with a properly aimed bolt to the brain or eye. You would have thought that, considering the fact you actually WERE good with it, you’d earn the adoration of your party for killing ogres dead.

	Right?

	Not with your party you weren’t.

	Your party was the typical affair, You, the arbalest, the Paladin, the Mage, the piece of shit Rogue, all that stuff. Certainly, they gave you a share of the loot from your adventures and jobs, but you couldn’t help but feel like they were shorting you a few coins, the rogue in particular most likely responsible. This arose during the one time you were just able to afford a shiny, new hand crossbow while, somehow, the mage was able to get a new gold circlet as her new focus, expensive as hell. This was further reinforced when, despite having no real armor, a shiny new breastplate that you looted and would have fit you perfectly went instead to the rogue. He made sure to brag loudly about how ‘nothing could get at him’ between his speed and the protection of the plate.

	You would’ve kindly disagreed with him and would explain how your arbalest worked, if it weren’t for the fact that the rest of the party was wholly against recognizing you.

	The worst and most obvious offender was the Rogue in his black leathers with his fancy moustache. He took EVERYTHING from you in regards to recognition, and would make sure to whisper it to you so that you knew just how badly he was fucking you over. One time your party ambushed an orc camp and discovered a problem in the form of an ogre, a tough beast to kill, until you shot it in the eye. The rogue proceeded to stab his dagger into its chest, not remotely deep enough to get at any vital organs, and claimed that he had struck the blow that killed the ogre. You made sure to voice your opinion by stating that his knife couldn’t possibly pierce its heart due to its depth and that a bolt to the eye was sufficient in killing it dead.

	Then the other two spoke up.

	The Mage, that red headed, jeweled robed bitch had shouted you down more times than you could count. She would rant about how you ‘were nothing but a small-dicked glory hound trying to steal the Rogue’s credit.’ She heaped praise unto the Rogue, and you were certain was actively fucking him in the taverns or was sucking him off whenever he sat to ‘read’ at a desk. She wasn’t really useful anyways, specializing in fire against fire-resistant orcs. You would’ve argued for hours, if not for the existence of your party’s Paladin.

	The blonde and stalwart Paladin was the most polite but could be argued was the most infuriating one. Every time you tried to argue your point against the Mage, you’d feel his hand on your shoulder and him patronizing you telling you, in one form or another, ‘You did good.’ Of course he didn’t tell you that you were great, he still believed the Rogue was doing YOUR great achievements. The ogre fiasco in particular almost set you off when he patted you on the back and said, “It’s alright friend. I’m sure you helped kill that beast.”

	Helped.

	You would have laughed if you weren’t so furious that night.

	Regardless, you pressed on with your party, your efforts against various orc units that lead to the near conclusion of your campaign, an assault on the orc commander’s keep. The Mage blasted open the door and the Paladin and Rogue went about slashing things to bits. You kept behind them, plinking off the biggest and fiercest looking orcs before they could even get close. One of the ones you shot proceeded to get stabbed by the Rogue who shouted, “Ha! Killed him in one blow! These orcs don’t stand a chance against me!” You felt your soul die a little as the other two cheered him on.

	It wasn’t long before you barged into the inner keep, the halls dark and surprisingly opulent for an orc army. Your party moved through the halls fending off stray patrols and clearing room after room, your supply of bolts infinite from your endless quiver. The only thing, strangely, that was diminishing rapidly was your hydration. You felt your throat become drier and drier as you charged ahead, a drink became more and more acceptable for a final reward.

	Eventually, your party burst into a nearly empty dining room, its long table only sitting a single guest, seemingly enjoying a relaxing drink.

	A succubus.

	From what you saw before she set down her drink and quickly bolted, her hair was a fine, silky black, parted by two brown horns that curled like a ram’s. Her body was voluptuous, her thighs and breasts giving her an hourglass figure that easily beat the Mage, her chest her most impressive aspect excluding the wings on her shoulders or spade tail around her legs. She wore a black set consisting of a corset vest with white sleeves and black leather pants ending in boots, her fashion complenting her assets. Her face was mature, but soft, with a button nose and long, pretty eyelashes that helped shelter her eyes, an amethyst violet.

	As she dashed out of the room, the paladin charged ahead, shouting, “C’mon! This wench has to be controlling the orcs! Only Succubi would lead from such an opulent palace!” As your party followed him, you ran along with them only to slow down and stop in front where the demon was just sitting. On the table was a tall glass of milk that she was about to drink, white and ordinary. You picked it up and gingerly took a sip, its flavor creamy, its texture soft and hydrating as it covered the insides of your mouth before dropping down your throat. It left you with satisfaction...and a feeling of absence as your parchedness returned. Before you knew it, you were gulping down the sweet liquid as if it was ambrosia, stopping only once your party was shouting at you to hurry up and the glass was empty. You quickly sprinted to rejoin your party, the halls growing darker as you chased the demon deeper into the keep.

	You quickly found your party in what seemed like a lounging room, several purple fabric chairs and couches and doors decorating the room along with the succubus lounging on one long couch. She looked unworried, leaning lazily on a hand as your party readied themselves in her direction. The Rogue stepped forward, bearing a knife and inquiring, “Alright cunt, who are you? Where’s the lord controlling the orcs?” His ever arrogant voice still grated your nerves and made your head spin from having to listen to it.

	She responded, her voice somewhat aged and wise, “Isn’t it obvious Rogue? I’M obviously the lord. What orc has this,” she waved her hand around, “sort of eye for design?” Her tone was honestly relaxing, your eyelids feeling heavier before you realized, in horror,  it was actually becoming difficult to remain stand.

You propped your body against the wall as the Paladin took a step forward, brandishing his blade, mocking, “Is that so? Even if you’re the lord of the orcs here, how do you expect to win against us without any help? There are no orcs around and every single one of us is able bodied and ready to fight!”

She laughed as you leaned harder and harder against the wall, your vision darkening slightly, before answering, “Oh it’s simple Mr. Shining-Beacon-of-Hope, I’ve made my preparations beforehand!” As she finished you felt yourself slide diagonally down the wall and to the ground with a loud thud, your arbalest falling from your grip as the world seemed to spin and shake. Your party turned to look at you, before looking upwards to the door and the sound of heavy footfalls of the orc guards advancing after them. The Lord scoffed, “Hear that? Sounds like you lot better start running! Sounds like they’ve got an ogre with them oh~! This is going to be so exciting to watch!”

The Rogue was the first to sprint out through a side door, shouting, “C’mon! Leave the bastard, we gotta go!”

The Mage quickly followed him, the Paladin dragging you slightly before grimacing, standing up and running out of the room shouting, “I’m sorry! I’ll be praying for your soul friend!” After he ran through the frame, the door shut with a mighty slam, the sound of a lock being turned filling the room as the Lord watched amused from her seat at the whole affair. After the lock turned, she sighed, her expression damping slightly as she stood up from her spot and walked towards your prone form.

You couldn’t even sigh in relief as she walked towards the door, closing it slightly as she leaned out, exchanging words with the outside orcs. You clenched your fist, using your arms to attempt to lift yourself up from your position. It felt nearly impossible with your two arms, your body felt like it was made of lead and was just as heavy. As you got to your knees, the Lord shut the door and twisted the lock, the outside footsteps indicating the orcs were moving away, most likely to chase your party. She turned away from you and walked to the last door in the room, moving to lock it as you finally stood up, leaning against the wall with your hand crossbow drawn and aimed. The arbalest had felt too heavy for you to lift in this drugged state.

She turned back to you, lifting her hand up to her mouth in amazement. “My~ my~! Aren’t you a strong one? That stuff should’ve been enough to keep a cow asleep.” You said nothing as she walked around the room, keeping your weapon trained on her. “Well, I must say my plan has worked well up to this point,” she began counting on her fingers, “first, ‘Tantalus’s Minor Curse of Thirst’, then, a few potions to result in a both delicious and heavily sedative and tranq laced drink, and here you are now!” She raised a finger to her lip in mock wonder. “Hum, maybe I should’ve used a taller glass…” she shrugged her shoulders, closing her eyes and shrugging, “Oh well. That doesn’t matter now. Now I have to improvise. So, I ask you this,” she looked you in the eyes, asking, “could you please~ drop that hand crossbow please~? I only want to talk with you is all.”

You couldn't help but mutter, your words somewhat slurred, “And how’d I know yer not lyin’?”

She thrust her hands into the air before settling them on her hips, scoffing, “You’re right. You don’t. So by all rights go ahead and shoot dead if you don’t trust me.” You paused, raising a brow as she raised her arms, exposing her chest as a target. “Go ahead. Shoot me in the heart. Shoot me so that you finally have some glory to claim to yourself.” Her looked hardened as she took a step forward. “Shoot me so that you can go back to your party and tell them that you killed that nasty, evil, demon lord and saved the lands that she had been conquesting and terrorizing.” As you became less and less sure, she advanced again, her voice beginning to reflect her face, a tone of frustration and anger ringing in your ears, “Shoot me so that you can listen to that rogue claim, somehow, that by leaving you behind he made my death possible, claiming ultimate responsibility later with that flat bottomed bitch supporting him.” Your face contorted in disbelief as she continued her advance, her triad continuing, “And then you can listen to that goody, little, blondie, two-shoes pat you on the pack and say,” she bent over, striking a mock pose of a mother, “‘There, there. You were SO helpful to us! It was the rogue that gave you the opportunity to do it!’”

You felt your arm giving way as the lord stood directly in front of your weapon, it’s bolt pointing directly at her chest. She stared you down, looking almost into your very being she spoke again, her voice threatening and reeking of finality.

“And we BOTH know it.”

She stood still in front of you, keeping you in her captivating stare. “So. Unless that’s what you want to happen, I suggest you drop the piece, and listen to what I have to say.”

You continued to stare, no longer in disbelief but in acceptance, slowly letting your arm drop to your side, eventually dropping the hand crossbow beside you. The lord visibly relaxed, dropping her shoulders slightly as she turned away from you, pacing around the room.

“Now then,” she started, “I’m going to be completely honest with you. You have been a major pain in the ass for me these past few weeks. Now, I don’t mean ‘you and your party,’ I mean,” she pointed a finger in your direction, “YOU. You killed most of the biggest and meanest orcs under my command did something that no one else has really been able to do, and that was put the fear of the Gods into them.” You listened on, keep yourself propped against the wall as she kept wandering around the room, sometimes meeting your eyes. “So of course I thought, ‘who is this man that the orcs are afraid of?’ and decided to send a watching eye to figure out who you were. Quite frankly I felt disgusted by what I saw.”

As you continued to stand, your vision began to get blurry, the colors of the room greying out as you felt whatever drugs began to really take effect. You felt your feet beginning to slowly slip out beneath you, your back sliding down the wall somewhat before you regained your position. The Lord looked back at you, frowning slightly before softly sighing. “Those drugs must be starting to take effect. I shouldn’t have just been ranting on and letting you collapse under your own weight.” She walked towards you, extending a hand towards you. “Here, let’s take a seat on a couch. I promise they’ll be comfortable.”

She gently took your hand in her own, manicured one and lead you to the couch she had been laying on when you first entered the room. As you walked, she placed an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her body, her wonderful hips rubbing nicely against your own. The Lord sat you down near the middle of the piece of furniture as she took a place directly to your right, throwing her hair behind her back as she crossed her legs.

“Where was I? I think it was the orcs. Was it?” She raised a brow towards you expecting answer, which you could only nod in response to. She kept looking you in the eye as she leaned an arm on the back of the couch. “The orcs fear you, that much is certain. They also have a strange respect for you as well. Something about your eye being strong, being part of your body, you probably know what it means.”

You did. Orcs respect strength and abhor magic as a whole, something both the paladin and the mage used. Evidently they respected your eye as your ‘strength.’

“Anyway,” she continued, “so after hearing the orcs talking amongst themselves, I decided to send a spy to watch you and your party. I found it horrifying just how exactly they treat you, that one rogue especially, stealing bits of your share like that.” You raised an eyebrow at the claim. “You didn’t know? Well, now you do. He spent it on buying that ginger mage that one golden circlet.”

You grunt, “Figured.” in response before covering your mouth as you yawned, your body no longer feeling as numb but more weary and tired. The lord uncrossed her legs, looking at you with a tilted head.

“Feeling tired? Come here,” she extended her arms to softly guide your body and head towards her, “lay down on my lap.” You sighed as you felt the back of your head touch down on her thighs, feeling the heat radiating from them on your neck as she began to run a hand through your hair, massaging your scalp. “There, doesn’t this feel nice?” You hummed in agreement, closing your eyes as she lowered her voice volume, speaking softer and softer. “You deserve so much more than the trouble those louts give you, and that’s why I wanted to get you away from them.”

You tiredly open your eyes as she looks down on you and gives you a genuine smile, her entire face shifting to accommodate it. “I want to reward you in their stead. Are you still thirsty, by any chance?”

...you DID still feel a tad bit parched.

You slowly nod your head, watching as her eyes widen somewhat in barely concealed excitement. She just barely stops the corner of her mouth from smirking as she takes a deep breath in and out. “Alright. Come here.” Her hand moved from your scalp to the back of your head, gripping it slightly as you watched as her other hand began to move towards her vest. You gasped as she began to fumble with the various strings on the corset, her chest heaving heavily from anticipation.

The lord could barely hide her excitement, visible on her face with a somewhat unnervingly wide smile and eyes. She quickly blurted, “Did I mention that the names of those potions happened to be, ‘Holstarius Breast Elixer’ and ‘Ergen’s Bodily Tonic of Numbing Fluid?’” as her chest found itself freed of its fabric prison, dangling just above your mouth and leaking a disturbingly familiar liquid. You stared in awe as she  brought your head ever so slightly closer to it. “G-go ahead. Take it.” Her lips were actively twitching as smiled.

Slowly, you let your tongue slip past your lips to lick at the succubus’s engorged tit, the milk dripping down your throat as the she sighed quietly to herself. It was as smooth and creamy as when you had drank it from the glass, now warm from its recent exodus from the tap. Gradually, you wrap your lips around her areola, causing the lord to let out a moan as she looked down on you. “Yes~... that’s it. Just…keep going.” She scratched your scalp, sending soft jolts running down your body and relaxing your muscles as you began your ministrations, suckling down the milk as it turned from a drip to a slow and steady stream. You had to admit, this was the best milk you’ve ever tasted with its creamy taste and perfectly soft texture.

You close your eyes and slowly develop a pattern for your mouth and throat, listening as the woman above you would moan every so often. You lifted your hand to grope at her other breast, only for her hand to push it back down to your side. “No no. This is..Mhn, YOUR time to feel good. Just le-het me handle everything.” You had only been attacking her breast for only a few seconds and already she sounded like she was on the brink of release.

Inspired by the crack in her attitude, you renew your attack on her breast, beginning to suckle at it with more ferocity than you had before and quickly gulping down the milk as it poured in. You opened one eye to stare at her face, and was satisfied to find her biting into her lip and breathing heavily with her eyes closed. She barely contained her moans, setting her hand on your knee as she opened her eyes to look at you. “You-. You’re re-heally wanting to go f-for it huh?” You nodded smugly as you closed your eyes and continued. If you were going to be corrupted or something, you were at least going to make her moan for it.

“Ve-very well. I suppose I’ll have to up the ante my...hn, self.”

Your eyes snapped open as you felt her hand begin to fiddle with your trousers’s zipper, making you pop off her breast and mutter, “W-wait!”

She looked down at you, slightly annoyed and curious, asking, “Why? What appears to be the matter Arbalest?”

You hadn’t forgotten about that promise you made your mom and pop, that chastity one or whatever. “Chastity…” you felt your words beginning to slur, the drugs beginning to take effect, “f-fer maraige.”

The lord tsk’d as she let go of your head and brought her hand to her face in amusement. “Ahh~ that’s so ~cute! I’m exactly the same way!”

	She was? You barely had time to ponder the point before she tenderly brought your head back to her teat, forcing your lips upon the leaking faucet. Her hand continued pulling down your pants until you felt your now hardened pecker exposed to the air of the room. “Trust me when I say this, this doesn’t count as having sex.” As you felt her hand tenderly grab at you, she finished, “Think of it as… assisted masturbation. That’s not sex now is it?”

	Your groggy mind took in her words and accepted the answer, forcing your lips to resume their previous suckling. The succubus’ hand began to slowly slide up and down your shaft, sending jolts of sensation coursing up your spine. Her hand felt manicured and silky, as a noblewoman’s, as it’s fingertips gently glided over the skin of your manhood, twisting and turning as it went upwards and downwards just below the bottom of its head, forcing the skin downwards and upwards, side to side. The jolts of her menstrations rocked your vision with jolts of white light, illuminating your slowly darkening vision. the drugs were beginning to have an ample effect on your body, forcing your arms to remain drooped to your sides as you quietly mewled from the Lord’s hand.

	The lord kept her gaze directly in your own, not even looking away as she bit her lip or let out moans as you continued to drink her drugged milk from her teat. Between her gasps of pleasure, she spoke to you in whisper, her words caressing your mind as her hand did your flesh. “You deserve so much better than them. You deserve a group that recognizes just how valuable an asset you are to them. You deserve someone who’ll heap the recognition you deserve unto your...tired frame.” As she spoke, her nails continued to gently stroke at your scalp, sending tingles through your body at the pleasant massage. Her hand wasn’t the only thing moving beneath your head, however. Beneath her hand was something else that snaked between her hips and towards her, causing her face to begin to blush pink with arousal. Her chest began to heave as she took deeper, more ragged breaths from the movement, most likely her tail with her genitals.

	It wasn’t long before you began to feel pressure building up in your dick, indicating you were close to release as the sensations became wilder and wilder. The Lord seemed to realize this, beginning to accelerate her strokes to your cock, helping to fight back the grayness that was beginning to plague your vision. She seemed on the brink as well, her entire face a soft pink as her breath quickened and her moans became louder and louder. She averted her gaze, looking off into space as she bit into her lip, before returning her now on-the-brink visage to you.

	She spoke, “Go ahea-heeaaaad~ let it ha-hall ouuuut~!”

	You obliged her, releasing her tit from your mouth as you gasped out, the pressure in your cock going over the edge and brightening your vision from the sensation. Your dick erupts in a volcano of seed, shooting out in several streams that covered the succubus’s hand and the couch with white goop. The lord seemed to reach her climax, releasing your head to cover her mouth to barely conceal her moan of ecstasy as her back arched in sheer satisfaction. You had to admit, release by your own hand had never felt this amazing.

As the rush began to die down, your vision began to grey further as your eyelids became heavier, the entire world spinning rapidly around you as the drugs embraced you fully. You felt the succubus lean downwards to place a gentle, kiss on your forehead, whispering, “Sweet dreams~.” before you blacked out.

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	You awoke in a bedroom of matching furniture to the sound of a door being busted open with several footsteps rapidly approaching you. You felt a pair of steel gloves grab at your bare shoulders, with an addressing voice that piled apprehension onto your already groggy moaning.

	“FRIEND! You’re still alive! Thank god that we managed to find you! Are you hurt?”

	You slowly opened your eyes to witness the paladin’s face hanging over yours, his eyes filled with glee. Raising a hand to rub at your face, you mutter, “No, I’m fine. How long’s it been?”

	“About a few hours now. Can you stand?”

	“Just-just give me a second alright?” You sit up, rubbing at your eyes as you began to take in your condition. Your body still felt numb and felt like it had just woken up from a rather deep slumber. You were stripped down to the underwear, and a quick look around the room revealed your belongings on a dresser, one that the rogue was now leaning against. The mage stood in the doorway, pouty and obviously impatient.

	The paladin kept at your side, blabbering, “We did not know if you were still alive. Alas, we could barely ponder the fact due to our own struggles. We even came across an ogre at one point, a difficult fight it was. Had you been there to weaken it, we most likely would of had an easier time defeating it.” You paused slightly, before turning to glare at him.

	‘Weaken?’ You would have done more than that, you would have killed the fucker.

	The mage scoffed from the doorway, waving her hand through the air as she bitched. “Acch, would you just hurry up already? We’ve got bigger priorities ahead of us, namely that succubus lord to kill. So once you finish up with the pep talk we can get back to work from having to save Mr. Crossbow’s ass again.”

	As you shifted an indignant glare to her direction, the paladin nodded and asked, “Ah yes, of course. Rogue, would you be so kind as to hand the Arbalest his clothes please?”

	The rogue grabbed your clothes and armor from the dresser and brought them to you, sneering, “You enjoy your beauty sleep princess?” as he handed the pile to you. Before you could come to decision to punch him in the jaw, he walked out of your reach, saying, “Alright, c’mon. Let’s give the guy some privacy to change. He’s going to want his dignity.” You could see him smile at you as the other two nodded and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

	Bastards.

	You threw off the covers of the bed and grabbed at your armor and clothes, dressing in them as routine demanded for such equipment. As you dressed, you kept thinking back to what had supposedly happened hours ago, to what the demon lord said, what the party had said to you now...and what she did with you. While certainly, you felt a smirk and a quiver of excitement just thinking of what happened, it was quickly colored over by crimson anger at your party. She had been right.

	As you finished dressing, you holstered your hand crossbow and readied your arbalest, still in pristine condition, before walking out the door. The paladin and mage waited just outside while the rogue was leaning against the wall of the frame. The paladin started, “Good to see you in able condition friend. While we were running around here, we found the lord’s throne room, just past the room where we first met her. If we hurry, we can forgo any orc patrols still looking for us. We must move!”

	As the mage and paladin ran down one of the halls, you began to run only to be stopped by a hand landing heavily on your shoulder. The rogue spoke from behind you, whispering directly into your ear. Where the succubus’ words had been gentle and relaxing, his grated against your eardrums and sent tension streaming through your body. “Heeey there. I know you just escaped from the succubus with your soul intact and weren’t butchered by the orcs but I got some bad news.” Not looking back, you could feel the bastard smiling as he spoke. “Due to how we were handling ourselves without you, the party and I decided we’re going to talk about going our separate ways after this. Of course, this is probably going to require a severance in regards to assets, so I was thinking, to be fair, you hand in your hand crossbow before you go.” He leaned in closer, his hot breath condescending on your ear, “Oh, and I already have good support from the mage in that regard.” He pulled away before running past you, bumping harshly into your shoulder.

	You swore to god you were going to shoot the bastard.

	As you ran to catch up, the halls were surprisingly quiet, with no orc patrols crossing your path. Eventually, you came back to the dining room where you had been previously, the glass from earlier still present on the table. Almost as if by que, you licked your lips at the memory of the drink. Shortly ahead, the hall leading up to the room was not as dark as you remember, was the lounge, its layout the same as you remember. Looking over the couches, the one the Lord had been lounging on still had a suspicious stain on its fabric, making you blush from the lewdness.

	The party advanced through the door opposite from when they retreated earlier, coming to another corridor that lead to an open double door leading into a massive throne room. Sitting near the back wall opposite of you was the Lord, lounging lazily in her chair with her legs crossed in front of her. Moving inside, you watched as she winked in your direction before looking down to the paladin at the front of the group.

	He shouted, “It’s over demon! We’ve defeated your warriors and we’ve recovered our friend! You’ve no more tricks up your sleeves that you can pull! You’re done for!”

	She giggled in her seat, smiling as she leaned on an open palm. “I wouldn’t think so Blondie. You should NEVER think a succubus out of tricks.”

	As you sat at the back, the rogue waved a hand towards you commanding, “Hey, crossbow guy, block off the doors will ya? Be productive.”

	You held your arbalest in front of you, barely comprehending the order. Why should you? All that silent rage from before was starting to bubble up to the service, all the way from the very moment when the rogue started the affair with stealing your kill. Only one word parted your lips in response.

	“No.”

	The rogue slowly looked back at you, squinting his eyes as he looked at you. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

	“I said no.”

	The other two began to look at you, and further beyond the Lord was beginning to smile. The rogue scoffed, “Crossbow guy, now’s not the time for this. We can discuss your standing later, now-”

	“Oh no. I’m taking my standing right now. And on that fact, get your hands up and don’t move. All of you, unless you want to get shot.”

	The paladin spoke, “Arbalest, what are you doing?”

	The rogue began to step closer to you, chuckling as he spoke. “Guy, c’mon. You really think that bow will do anything between my speed and-”

	You didn’t wait for him to finish before pulling the trigger. The bolt hit him squarely in the chest, piercing through that stupid breastplate knocking him to the floor gasping for air from now collapsed lungs. Before the other two could react, you quickly drew your hand crossbow from behind you and trained it between them. Both of them were shocked, the mage beginning to tear up and the paladin putting his hand up to begin channeling his healing magic. You threatened, “Either of you try to help him and I’ll put a bolt right between your fucking eyes.” The paladin’s eyes widened before he sadly dropped his hand, stopping the spell he was casting while the mage was actively sobbing at the loss.

	“Now,” you motioned with the hand crossbow, “move over to the wall here, and get your hands up.” They both complied, moving past you and to the wall as you stepped over the rogue’s body. Looking down, you spotted him gasping for breath, one hand holding at the bolt while the other reached for your boot. Almost calmly, you raised your boot and placed it on the rogue’s neck before sharply pushing downwards until a sickening snap filled the room making the mage shout out, “NO!” in pain.

	You had to admit, it felt good after all this time.

	The mage shouted, “YOU MONSTER! HOW COULD YOU BETRAY US LIKE THIS?!” Tears were streaming down his face, staining her make up and running down to her robe.

	“Because I was tired of dealing with all three of you. Tired of being treated like the useless one. She was right, I deserve so much more than the shit you were giving me.”

	The Paladin took a step forward, forcing you to aim at him to make him stop. “That’s not true! She’s poisoning your soul with words Arbalest! You got the recognition you deserved! By God, you were valuable to us!”

	“Oh?” You cocked your head sideways. “Is that why you supposedly decided to cut me out of the group?” The Paladin’s lips closed tightly in response. “I thought so. Oh, and it wasn’t recognition, it was patronization jackass. Now get back on the fucking wall.”

	As the paladin stepped back towards the wall, the mage still in tears over the loss of the rogue. You stood there in the near silence until the heavy footfalls of orcs signaled their arrival in the throne room. A group of them surrounded what remained of your party, one large one approaching you before the lord commanded, “Leave him. He’s friendly. The other two...hum.” You felt her by your side, tapping gently at your shoulder for your attention. “Do you have any requests of what you want to happen to them?”

	You shrugged your shoulders, looking over to the Lord. “I don’t remotely care. Throw ‘em out on their ass for all I care.”

	The Lord hummed before ordering, “Guards, confiscate their weapons and armor and throw them out of the castle.”

	The Mage, still sobbing, was hauled over one of the orc’s shoulders and carried out of the room while the Paladin simply stared at you as the guards bound his wrists. As they began to lead him out, he shouted, “I’ll pray that the Lord has mercy for your soul traitor!” before one of the orcs roughly smacked him upside the head. Eventually, it was only you and the Lord alone in the room, the Rogue’s body still bleeding from where you left it and the Lord still by your side.

“Well,” she started, “I guess that’s all that.”

	You hummed in response, hoisting your arbalest onto your back and holstering your hand crossbow to your side.

	“I guess now you’re free to do what you want then.”

	“Yep.”

	“Hm.” Both of you stood there in an awkward silence, no words seemed to come to mind for keeping a conversation. No words at all.

	But actions…

	“So where are you planning on-mph!” You interrupted the Lord’s question by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her into a kiss, thrusting your own tongue into her mouth. Her eyes widened a bit before slowly closing, coo’ing as she wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you closer towards her. You responded in kind, wrapping both arms around her waist and pulling her in, resting your hands just above her supple backside. Both of your tongues danced with one another in the ballroom of your mouths, tasting one another with an unknown passion you could only guess at.

	You pulled away, spittle connecting your mouths and looked into her eyes, an amethyst violet, as she looked into your own, her expression sultry and expecting. “My~, I hadn’t expected you to be so forward. Is it possible that you seek a future in my company?” She placed a hand to the side of your face, holding your head in desire and intimacy, “Is it possible you’ve fallen for me? Why so passionate?”

	You smiled gently, bringing your hand upwards to cup her cheek. “What can I say? You saved me. It’s only natural to fall for one’s savior of course.”

	She giggled quietly at your response. “Oh please Arbalest~, you color your words. All I wanted to do was reward you for-” You silenced her again with another kiss, slower and not as ferocious as your previous but somehow, even more passionate. You remained on the cusp of each other’s lips, dotting each other’s tongue with your own before returning to your own mouth, preparing to touch the other again.

	Abruptly, both of you pulled away from each other, you stumbling in place while the Lord put a hand to her head. The dizziness and lightheadedness returned, and your body felt exhausted. The Lord sighed, murmuring, “It seems that the..the the one potion is still in effect. And, I think some residue from my milk was still in your mouth.” You caught each other, her head in your chest as you stood in each others embrace on wobbly legs. “Say,” she looked up to your face, “how’s t’ say we go take a nap for a bit? You must be tired from earlier.”

	You didn’t bother to answer her, instead dragging her on unsteady legs back towards the bedroom where you had awoken from just minutes prior.

	As you lay in bed, holding the Lord in your embrace as she wrapped her appendages around you, you couldn’t remember a time when you slept better.

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	The orcs were kind enough to let you get the first dibs of the loot that was on the Rogue’s body after they decided to pilfer it. Nothing interested you, the dagger you didn’t need and the breastplate just gave you bad memories. The only thing of note on him was a velvet box that held a gold, diamond ring with a note in it from the Rogue to the Mage. It would’ve made for a fine engagement ring. You tossed away the note and pocketed the box for later that night, leaving the body for the orcs to have for dinner.

	The next morning, after you proposed, the orcs gave you an amulet they made of the Rogue’s pinkie bone, a trophy of your kill. You took it with a smile on your face.

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	“So there we were, huddled around the campfire at night discussing the day’s events, the Paladin Captain getting praise for killing an orc after I put an arrow in its knee. This wasn’t new, I learned not to care much and kept myself to waxing my bowstring away from the rest. Then the captain started talking about an old arbalest he knew, one who fell for the temptations of a succubus lord, the one we were going after now. He talked about how it was sad that he had damned his soul, and betrayed the party that respected him. Said he was the best shot he’d ever seen, crippling beasts for the party to take down.

	Almost on que, a fuckin’ bolt hit him right between the eyes and knocked him down dead! There was a loud roar, and orcs came out of the thicket and were upon us at the same time as well! One of ‘em managed to grab me right away, keeping me still while the rest butchered the party. When I was the only one left, he held me still until someone said, ‘Let ‘em go. He’s not one to worry about.’ I look behind me, and it’s this Arbalest wearing this necklace of pinkie bones telling the orc to let me go!

	He came up to me, dusted off my shoulder and said, ‘Nice work killing that ogre a few days ago. That was a hell of a shot you made.’ He then looked over at the captain’s body and said, ‘Oh don’t worry, this wasn’t the first time he’s stolen glory.’ After they looked over the rest of the bodies, taking the odd shiny thing, the Arbalest taking the captain’s pinkie, they left, and I was just sittin’ there with my equipment unmolested. After that, I rested for the night before returning to the city and giving you this report.

	What? No, I really don’t miss the party. Leeroy kept saying my kills were his and kept stealing my bread rolls.”

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	Glory and recognition.

	That’s all you ever wanted. It was the reason you betrayed your party using your pride and joy, a crank arbalest. The thing was a machine of death, able to put and keep anyone down on their ass with one high powered bolt. Certainly it was bad against whole parties, and a bit slow to reload but whoever you hit, and you rarely missed, was guaranteed knocked out. Hell, you could even kill knights in plate armor dead with a properly aimed bolt to the brain or heart. You would have thought that, considering the fact you actually WERE good with it, you’d earn the adoration of the orcs for killing the armored tanks.

	Right?

	Damn straight you were right.

	The orcs were typical, a chieftain, the archers, the warriors, that ratty looking one who seemed closer to a goblin than an orc, all that stuff. Certainly, they gave you first share of the loot but you really didn’t have much that you needed, save a breastplate you took, and mostly left it to them. They did give you a larger than normal share of the gold though. This came in handy for sending villagers that your wife ruled over to get supplies for maintaining your arbalest and the tribe. The orcs would brag about how no one would be able to touch them between the rate of which they were arming up and their own prowess.

	You had to agree with them, as did your wife.

	She had squealed with joy when you presented the ring to her, the orcs letting out a hurrah as they watched their lord and champion kiss. She immediately took to wearing it all the time, even in bed that night as you rocked back and forth into her, splitting her...daemonhood (?) and reaching her inner depths. She cried out in joy as she held your hand and held your own to her cheek as her tail worked to keep you close to her. She locked her legs around you as you locked your lips to hers as you released inside of her. It wasn’t until much later when her stomach began to bulge that you realized that she was pregnant.

With your child.

You could’ve thrusted your head against her belly if you weren’t afraid of doing something wrong and hurting the baby.