Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Ma/Ma, Mult, Consensual, Magic, Romantic, BiSexual, BDSM, DomSub, Light Bond, Spanking, Group Sex, Polygamy/Polyamory, Anal Sex, Analingus, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, Lactation, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Petting, Squirting, Water Sports, Nudism, Politics, Violent,
Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Facing the busiest, most stressful part of the year, a rancher is not ready when the night shadows come calling. The Lady Ashley is charged to help find strength , passion, and connection so that his death is not repeated. This should have been easy. How far will she go to save the community when that minor detail proves not so minor after all? Sex is graphic, joyful and consensual. Written so you can start the series here. Check codes. 100k words
I sat, the cool leather of the settee pleasant against the skin of my back and legs. Soon, Elk Unstoppable from Passion Mill would arrive.
My day had started hours before dawn. A servant had awakened me to report an urgent call from Passion Mill. A rancher had died of shadow rot in the arms of Elk’s daughter, his lover for the night.
We all hope to be safe within the boundary of a community, the light of our passion shining brightly to keep the shadows out. However, even in the best of times, they lurk unseen outside. When times are not best, life can be grim for villages lacking the support of a noble house. We, the nobility, can build alliances to help communities stand strong against the shadows.
Passion Mill had delegated Elk as their messenger. He would describe their situation. If Oak Leaf’s help were needed, we would negotiate a contract.
Passion Mill would be a valuable addition to Oak Leaf’s beholden. It is a small but reasonably prosperous farming community along the Passion River, down from Three Rivers’ Confluence, near our electronics factory. Passion Mill has a grain elevator, flour mill, small slaughter house, and generally supports the surrounding agricultural region.
I stood as I saw a servant escort a man and young woman into the hall. The man was big: not fat, not especially tall, but large framed and barrel chested. I admired his muscles and the strong set of his face. He wore sharply creased pants and a seldom-used shirt of moderate quality. From the smooth skin of his hands and his clothes, I’d guess that Elk worked in an office. Even so, he kept himself in good physical shape.
I offered my hand to him. “Elk Unstoppable?” I asked.
“Yes. Call me Elk; everyone does.”
He eyed my body, a puzzled expression on his face. “I think there must be some misunderstanding. We’re here to report and discuss whether Oak Leaf can help Passion Mill. With all respect to your skill, bringing us to a servant to join as lovers won’t help our community.”
I smiled at the misunderstanding. He had assumed I was a servant. I wondered if I might learn more by simply failing to correct his confusion about my identity. “Not everyone naked is offering themselves as a lover. I will take your report and convey it to the nobles.”
I could not say for sure why I had not bothered to dress. Part of it was a feeling that naked might be more approachable than as a noble lady. A servant would probably be even more approachable than a naked noble. I decided to see where his confusion led us. I would eventually have to introduce myself as the Lady Ashley, Third for Oak Leaf.
“I’m sorry ... I just expected ... Honestly, I don’t know what I expected. This is my first trip to a noble seat.”
“It is not a problem. I’ll take your reaction as a compliment on my looks,” I said. “I see you did choose to bring your daughter.” I had urged Elk to bring his daughter: Oak Leaf Seat has the necessary skill to help someone who has faced trauma in their lover’s work.
“Yes. This is Pleasure’s Gift. Gift was with Birch when he died last night.”
“She’s also from Passion Mill?”
His daughter was around my age. She was thin and narrow-waisted, with thick, luxurious hair falling down just below her delicate shoulder blades. From her well muscled arms and the calluses on her hands, I guessed her work was more physical than her father’s.
I sent the servant for tea and cookies. I guided Gift to the settee and sat next to her. I motioned to Elk and he sat on her other side.
“Welcome to Oak Leaf. Would you start by telling me a little about yourself? I will need to ask about Birch in a bit, but I want to know you first.”
“Mostly I work as a baker. But lately I’ve been spending a lot of time helping out with the agricultural work. Most everyone does this time of year.”
“Have you always been with Elk?”
“Elk has been my father my entire life. I rarely see my mother; she does not live at Passion Mill. I was born the year after a bumper harvest. To celebrate, the community hired a whore for Slutfeast. My mother got pregnant and Passion Mill needed children. She found more than lust with Elk and he took delight in raising me.”
Her shoulders slumped and her face fell. “If only I had spent more time with my mother, I would have known how to save Birch.”
“I don’t think whore is a trade people learn from their parents.”
She blushed. “O, yeah ... I didn’t mean ... but perhaps some advice she shared over the years? There must have been something! I’ve known him my entire life. He was fine at the beginning. Nothing I did was enough. Then I’m rocking a corpse, stinking of shadow rot and corruption.” She was sobbing so heavily it was hard to make out her words.
I patted her back. “You are very brave coming here the next day to a strange place and telling us about it. Nothing can bring Birch back, but helping Oak Leaf understand what happened will make sure that nobody else has to suffer.”
I held Gift while she recovered. “Tell me about Gnarled Birch.”
“He was a rancher. He owned his own cattle rather than working for someone else. We’ve known each other for ever.”
“Were you close?”
“We were close friends certainly but not bonded or anything like that. He had taken me as his lover countless times. Over the years we developed a connection. Many a time our passion has shined brighter than anything you’re likely to find with a casual lover.”
“Was last night like that? Also, was he given you last night, or did you find each other independent of the assignments?”
“Passion that bright with a ranch owner this time of year? If only!”
“Too much going on?”
“Yes,” she sighed, “You know how it is when things get busy. You know the work of slut and lover are important. You know your life depends on the passion in your community. Still, one night isn’t going to matter. It’s not like you feel the strength of your passion directly. I mean, I guess sometimes at the edge of your awareness, you feel something, but it’s not real. Not in the way aches and pains in your body at the end of a long day are real.
“But your work is very real. The bread must get baked. A rancher has a big cake order to celebrate the end of the harvest with their crew. Things are busy but money is still tight. Ranchers, particularly owners, have it worse. Calving season is still going strong. Animals don’t wait until it’s convenient to give birth. Winter is coming next and that needs to be planned for. So much stress and worry!”
I did not ‘know how it was.’ Her words painted a picture that filled me with horror. Life is very different for the nobility. We join as a community in the Great Hall. There, we know nothing stands more important than the light of our passion shining forth. When I lie between Lady Michele and Lord Matthew, as I often do when it’s just Oak Leaf gathered, I know I am joining with my closest lovers. I know I am safe and supported both as slut and lover.
Once the web was as faint for me as it is for Gift. With years of practice, I am skilled at web magic. Through luck and my position, I help guide the weaving of Oak Leaf’s web. So, unlike Gift, I do feel the strength of our passion like I feel aches in my body. I am not likely to forget it is as real and as important to our survival as food and water.
It must be dreadful facing the work of slut and lover through such a fog. I imagined taking a lover, both of us tired after a long day of work and worried about the day to come. We would know joining was important, but our bodies would only remind us of our fatigue. My heart went out to Gift and Passion Mill.
Of course, that difference between noble and commoner is why Oak Leaf can help. We have the resources to focus on our work as sluts and lovers—to focus on the strength of our community. It is because of that we can provide help to Passion Mill in their time of need.
Gift continued. “So no, our passion has often shined brighter than last night. Mane gave me to Birch. I was glad though: I’d been worried for him. He’d been out for two nights in a row.”
“So what happened last night?”
“I grew tired waiting for him. He came in around midnight, smelly and filthy after helping with calving. He cleaned up and joined me.
“I tried to excite him—sucking and playing with my hand. His body was tired and past responding. He suggested I masturbate for him. O fuck, does that even work? Can you lend the strength of your passion to someone by jilling yourself for them? I bet that’s why—”
“Yes you can. O honey, you face enough without worrying about that.”
I laughed, thinking back to when Matthew finally believed I could find lover’s joy watching him jack himself while I held him. He was a randy little slut. I guess that’s to be expected for a boy of nineteen. We’d fucked and sucked and licked. We’d done everything you could think of. I was tired and sated, but he was still wanting more. I just held him and watched as he jacked himself. I was filled with joy being trusted enough to receive that view into him—into slut. When he came, the surge of joy and connection rippled through us both. “I am sure. Without a doubt.”
She seemed reassured by my confident tone. “O, thank you.”
“I’m asking, not to judge, but I need to understand. You were both tired and discouraged. How well did it work for you and Birch?”
She sobbed. By this point her face was a mess. I handed her a handkerchief from the side table. She wiped her face and blew her nose. “I came at least. I think he was still awake at the end. I mean, I think he fell asleep after I came.” Her back stiffened. “If only I lived up to being a whore’s daughter I would have known what to do. If I were a better slut, he’d still be with us!”
I winced at Gift’s predicament. She had made her best effort to connect with someone she cared for. It hadn’t been enough. She must have known at the time it was not her best performance. Of course, performing as a lover when you’re worried about how well you are connecting only makes it harder. Also, it must have been frustrating receiving so little back from Birch.
There was a level at which she was right: perhaps a stronger slut on one of her best days would have done more for Birch. However, we don’t organize the defense of communities for the best of times. Instead, we must plan for the most challenging times. Birch’s death was not Gift’s fault.
I leaned over to hug her to me. “No, Gift, you gave your best. That is what matters. You live in an entire community of sluts and lovers. The community’s responsibility is to make sure everyone is safe—even when our lives are stressful, even when one person finds slut and lover elusive. Oak Leaf can help make your community strong again, so no one else has to face what you are going through.”
“But if I’d—” she began.
“But nothing! This is not your fault. It’s okay to cry; I will hold you. You are safe and supported here.” I caught Elk’s look of relief. I guessed he spent much of the trip trying to reassure her. “I do need to ask what happened next.”
She shuddered in my arms. “I fell asleep. I woke to a horrible smell. I thought Birch’s digestion had disagreed with him. Then I heard him rasping. I felt his forehead, and it was cold. I woke him, but he could not talk clearly. I panicked; I didn’t know what to do. Slut and lover were entirely beyond us both. Soon he began to thrash. He died in my arms.”
“I’m so sorry. I am sorry I needed to ask. Thank you for telling me. There was no sign before of shadow rot?”
“How obvious is it?”
“If it is that close to fatal, I doubt you could have missed it. I would expect a rash covering much of his body. Did he smell normal when he joined you?”
“There was definitely no rash. After he washed up, he smelled like soap and clean man. He smelled horrible before, but I think that was from the calving, not the shadows.”
Such rapid progress of shadow rot was puzzling. This was like a young man in the prime of his life dropping dead of a heart attack: possible but quite surprising.
I had what I needed from Gift. I worked to calm her with reassurances and gentle touch. Minutes passed. She calmed somewhat. “Oak Leaf asked your father to prepare a report,” I said. “Do you want to be here while we discuss it?”
“I’d ... would it be okay if I went somewhere else?”
“Yes. Would working help?”
“Yes, please. I can clean, carry, whatever.”
“How about assisting our baker? He’s friendly and understanding.”
I stood, motioning Gift to follow. “Elk, I shall return shortly.”
On the way to the kitchens, I asked one more question. “Gift, would you rather be with a woman or a man tonight?”
“There’s no way I could ... not so soon! O, fuck, I’m a visitor here. I have to, don’t I? I just don’t know how I’ll—” She started crying again.
I hugged her to me. “You do not have to have sex. I doubt you’ll even have to touch, although if you are comfortable, I think cuddling and being held will help. But yes, you do have to join someone tonight. Being a visitor would be enough, but any community would assign you after the night you had.
“Oak Leaf will find someone who understands shadow rot well. I don’t think you are in danger, but to be safe we must have someone there who can help you through whatever is needed.”
She needed someone who would do whatever was necessary, even if she wished they would not. However care and compassion would be important so that any emotional damage would be minimized.
“But you think I’ll be safe and can choose how open to be?”
“Yes, you will be safe, and you can choose.”
“I’d feel most comfortable with a man. He needs to be kind and understanding though.”
“Of course. The Lady of Oak Leaf is handling pairings for tonight. She is good at matching people.”
“She handles assignments, even for commoners?”
“For a visitor facing her first shadow death, I’m sure she will.”
I knew that even if Gift’s situation hadn’t been critical, Lady Celeste would review the assignments for commoners and nobles alike. She might take more input for the commoners, but Oak Leaf Seat takes pairings seriously.
I returned and sat next to Elk. When it became clear that he would not break the silence, I began. “So, how widespread is the problem?”
“About your daughter?”
“Pleasure’s Gift certainly, but not just her. Gnarled Birch is not the only one who’s had trouble meeting his responsibilities as a lover.” He hesitated. I was about to ask for more information when he continued. “I’m also worried about how we’ll be seen. I think Flowing Mane—well, all of us really—are in over our heads. But it’s not like we don’t try our best. What we face is hard. It’s good you are preparing the report for the nobles. I need your help showing them the problems we face.”
“Flowing Mane is the defense manager? ‘From’ Passion Mill?”
“Yes. He’s from Pine Hills though. He moved to Passion Mill soon after the community was established.”
“So, what are you hoping I can show in the report?”
“It’s like Gift said. There’s a lot going on this time of year. We try, but there’s so much we need to do. Can you make them see that?”
“I can’t hide problems.”
“No! They need to know—we need the help. It’s just I’ll be negotiating a contract, and I want them to understand we’re not stupid. We care about our community. We know we could die from shadows. We could die from no food or no money too!”
I couldn’t imagine being in Elk’s position. He was sitting there begging me to treat his community with respect and to value their struggles. “I understand, I shall present your challenges with dignity and respect.”
“Thank you. Mane expects people to slut for the community a couple of times a week. Of course people take lovers or find passion in other ways even when they are not assigned.
“But it hasn’t been working. I sampled a number of people. Just over half had not managed to successfully find passion in one of their assignments over the last week. Around a third had not found passion at all—not in a single assignment!”
A chill ran over my skin. I’d start with the smaller problem. “You sampled? Why not just go look at reports of failed joinings?”
“People get busy or embarrassed. They aren’t very good at reporting.”
I suppressed a scream. Our lives depend on those reports. How can you protect a community where people fail to understand deep in their being their defense manager absolutely must have that information. Still, my reaction to the reports was only keeping me from facing the bigger problem.
“A third failed to find passion at all? It’s a wonder there’s been only one death.” I wanted to lash out at the reckless folly displayed by the people of Passion Mill. Where was the defense manager in all this?
Elk looked at me, eyes wide, mouth agape. “Please, try to understand. It’s not easy.”
I wanted to kick myself. Not one minute after promising to treat him with respect and dignity, he was afraid of what the rage and frustration he saw on my face might mean for his community. We could help Passion Mill, but we’d need trust and openness to do that.
Quite soon I’d need as much trust and openness as he could offer me. He did not come expecting to join with a lover, but he should do so before returning to Passion Mill. If he went back full of the strength of a coupling in a foreign community, he would carry that strength back to his home.
I smiled ruefully. “Thank you for your help. I now understand what you’re facing. I think I can help the nobles understand.”
“Thanks. Is it really that bad? Won’t our web help?”
I guess if you spend your days focused on the immediate tasks before you, you might not have time to understand how web magic works. The web—the tangle of connections across which we can share strength and protect our communities is only a tool. It will not save us if we do not care for and nourish it.
I was taught to imagine a community’s web as threads of passion, woven together by connections formed when we reach out to each other. When the web is strong, it is under tension; if someone holding onto it falls, the web supports them, lending them its strength. If people take from the web without returning, over time sections will become slack, and support will not be there when needed.
Of course the web is more complicated than that. Focuses, like the defense manager, can manipulate it, directing where the community’s passion is spent, forming and strengthening connections. The web ties to the boundaries of the community. Just as the web embodies the connections between people and the realm where passion is power, the boundary embodies the connections between that realm and the spaces we inhabit. Without a boundary, the passion we find would leak away into the surrounding world instead of being harnessed to nourish a community’s web. And of course, the boundary is where we manifest our intent to forbid the shadows our community.
I could give Elk a simple answer. “The web can only provide enough strength if the community finds sufficient passion. If Birch had been well-connected and slut eluded only him, then yes we would expect he’d have drawn strength from the web. However, I have two concerns with what you told me:
“First, how long was it since Birch truly found the depths of his slut and shared that with a lover? I don’t mean when did he last come inside a lover. I mean when was he last at his best?”
Elk scratched thoughtfully at his beard. “I don’t know. I only went back two weeks in investigating him. Everything I found suggested some degree of rush and distraction.”
Poor guy. I wonder if he even knew how dangerously he was living. I wonder if he became afraid, his fear contributing to his downfall. Or perhaps he was so busy trying to provide for his workers and business that he never even saw the danger.
“Even if there were strength to go around, I doubt Birch had a strong enough connection to take advantage. Besides, let me guess. I bet Birch and many who have not been finding slut for the community were often out at night.”
“Yes, all too true. Are you saying Birch might have been one of the weakest but ... that others who are struggling might ... might start to die as he did!”
“Yes.” It could be even worse than that. If there wasn’t enough passion shining forth from the community to maintain the boundary, everyone might be at risk.
“Shit! How can we save them?”
“Oak Leaf can help. We must stop the rot. We need lovers with nothing on their mind but the safety of the community, money to cover losses, and the will to focus the entire community on repairing the damage. A period of rebuilding the community so that the light of passion shines brightly again, then things will return to business-as-usual. The defense manager must monitor the success of pairings more closely of course.”
“Will they help?”
Fuck yes, we would help. Finding communities in genuine need and building lasting relationships is how houses grow their network of beholden. Passion Mill’s problem seemed simple. There was only one niggling detail I could not explain: how did Birch go so quickly from apparently healthy to dead?
“I am sure Oak Leaf will help,” I said.
“Perhaps you should deliver your report and start that process,” he said.
“You hope Oak Leaf will send strong lovers to help out the community,” I said. “You want to be one of those lovers, don’t you? You know the situation and the community; you care.”
“Yes. I want to make sure nobody else has to face what Pleasure’s Gift did. I want to make sure my friends don’t rot from within.”
“You can really help. You can turn all your concern—your desire to help into passion. You can accept the vulnerability and openness and be a stronger slut, a better lover. Are you ready for that?”
“Yes. How do you feel thinking about being that lover?”
“I am worried. What if I open up and people keep dying?”
Perhaps I did not ask quite the right question, or perhaps I just needed to help him work through it. “Yeah, it is hard, it is scary.” I hugged Elk, snuggling next to him. “How do you feel thinking about the help you could give and being part of healing Passion Mill?”
“That would be so wonderful. Gift would be proud of me. Birch would be proud too; he loved her and Passion Mill.” He paused. “Yeah, I think I could do that.”
He blushed, his eyes downcast. “Except ... at least I’m not one of the third. But I am one of the half who has not found passion in recent assignments. Also, Gift ... no, I cannot ask Gift to return so soon.”
“As to Gift, surely not. You know she must be taken tonight. I shall ask my father. He can hold her if she desires and provide what comfort she can accept. I doubt any more will be needed. However, if there are signs of shadow rot, he will do whatever is necessary, but will be as gentle as possible.”
“Oh! That will be hard for her to hear.”
“I have already told her. She was startled but eventually gained comfort.”
“As for yourself,” I said, “when you arrived, I said not everyone naked offers themselves as a lover. Many of us do offer. Join as my lover and let the light of our passion shine all the way back to Passion Mill.”
I moved even closer, but he did not reach for me as I had hoped. “I ... I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“What can I do to help? You want to help heel your community, but to do that you must be among the strongest.”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I know, but— Could you point the way to a lavatory? I’ll make waste and see what I can do to prepare myself to join you.”
“If you have dung to deposit, I’ll point the way. Otherwise, accept me as your pee slut.”
“I’m having trouble joining as your lover and you want me to start with that?”
“Yes. Your body’s need will help you face that intimacy. Let me guide you in turning that into a positive connection. Slut for me; join as my lover and appreciate how I slut for you in accepting your body’s most basic offerings.” At a practical level, this had huge benefits. The exchange of body fluids backed by the vulnerability of his experience would allow me to weave a deep connection between Elk and the Oak Leaf web. Throughout the rest of our lover’s work, I could offer him Oak Leaf’s passion shining brightly.
He nodded. I said, “Spread your legs and relax.” I crawled between his legs and opened his pants. I buried my head in his crotch, eventually extracting his cock with my lips and tongue. He smelled of fear and stress, but also of man. I licked along his cock, tasting his sweat. I pulled back, holding his cock in my hand, pointing it at my chest.
“Use me. Take full pleasure in filling your slut with pee, twining your hands in my hair, holding me against you as you make me work to swallow your flow.” I continued, “Along with your pee, offer your fatigue, your doubt, your fear. Those too can pass from your body.”
I held his cock in my mouth and waited. He reached and began to pet my head in his lap. As the seconds stretched, he began to be restless.
“I’m trying, but I just can’t.”
I removed his cock to say, “Relax. I can sit here a long time with your cock in my mouth, and your body will make its need ever stronger. Feel your fullness and open to it. There’s no hurry.”
I began pressing my hand against his bladder, exerting gentle pressure. I placed his hand back on my head and waited patiently. He tensed and I sucked the first sour dribble out of his cock. I smiled up at him. His cock began giving me little spurts of pee. Gradually he relaxed enough to build up a steady stream. I enjoyed his sour, salty warmth. My nose was filled with the strong animal musk of his pee.
There are a lot of potential power dynamics when drinking pee. By giving him full control, encouraging him to hold me against him and fill me as fast as he could, I offered myself fully as a receptacle for his waste. To be blunt, I offered myself as his potty. Unless you find no joy at all in taking another, such a gift of subservience and deep sluttiness is powerful.
I felt the moment when he made the connection and accepted me as his toilet; his hands tightened in my hair and he pushed my face firmly into his crotch. I find it incredibly vulnerable offering myself in this way. Later, I’ll be with someone who has used my mouth as their toilet. I’ll notice them fidget. I picture them realizing their need and wanting to press their cock or cunt against my slutty mouth and empty themselves into me. When the vulnerability is safe, I’m filled with excitement knowing I’ve invited them to think of me that way.
Of course, the vulnerability goes both ways. There’s a lot you share about yourself with the taste and smell of your pee and in how you approach the act. The primal nature of the act and the power dynamics create their own openness. And soon, when Elk realizes he’s used the person who will decide how his community is beholden for generations to come as his personal toilet, I think he’ll find his own very real, very sharp vulnerability. I hope he will use that to meet me in lover’s joy and connection.
He was full. I struggled to be a good pee slut and drink everything he emptied into my mouth. I love the beginning and the end the best. That first moment when someone’s warmth first splashes into your mouth—your first encounter with their musk and taste is a delight. Towards the end, you can savor their pee, rolling it around in your mouth, exploring all its complexity, taking the time to experience their after-taste.
I find the middle part a bit of a duty to be met, when I must swallow quickly just to keep up. Apparently if you like to be forced—like to be taken—that part can be its own real thrill. That joy is not usually mine. While I often set myself up to be taken, it is because it will help my lover slut more deeply. My slut thrives on the joy of seeing them grow, but I do not generally take pleasure in being forced directly.
While I drank, I wove. Combining the physical focus necessary to keep up with his flow with the mental focus for my magic was a challenge. I used the physical exchange of his fluid as a base. I wove that together with our shared concern for Passion Mill and the openness he’d offered in discussing their problems, forming a strong web connection. Across this connection, I offered the assurance and confidence flowing through Oak Leaf’s web and a helping of lust to prepare for what was soon to come.
Eventually he finished. After savoring him, I let his cock drop and looked up smiling. He said, “I can’t believe you drank all that.”
“You certainly were full, but have no fear: I shall soon return what I took with interest.” He laughed.
“Are you ready to continue as my lover?” I asked.
“I’m not sure ... yes! I am ready.” Our connection was strong: I felt it the moment his doubt slipped away.
I beamed. He looked at me and asked, “You seem to really care. Why?”
That was tough to answer. I would not lie, but wanted to take him as my lover before telling him I was a noble.
“I take real pride as a slut. My job is helping others be the most amazing sluts and lovers they can be. This is about that, but this is more important because Passion Mill’s future may depend on Oak Leaf’s work.”
I’d like to thank Ross at Play for hours of work editing this chapter. I learned a lot.
If you like what you’re reading, please take the time to vote and to give feedback. I’d love to hear from you.
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