The Witch and the Man-trap
Chapter 1

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, NonConsensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, FemaleDom, BBW,

Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Our hero and his beautiful companion seek out the next clue on their quest to fight the Fireborn. But someone is waiting for them, and she has laid some wicked plans for the hero...

How is it possible to sit next to the most beautiful woman in the world and still wish desperately that you were somewhere else? To watch all of the Seven Moons dance in the early dawn sky at the same time, making the air of early dawn a breath-taking, colorful spectacle, and still wish they would fall into the sea one after another?

The seasickness had not abated since we set out from Braghia three weeks ago. I was steadily growing pale and worn with hunger and fatigue as the Merry Dancer, oh what a fanciful name!, made good time along the Northern coast of the Olthan Sea. Because of fair wind we were heading west at a goodly speed; for each meal I had to offer to the fishes following the ship, we gained leagues. As I sat on the tilted deck and stared down into the green waters and the low, almost purple coast beyond I almost missed the two days we had to anchor up in a pleasant little cove to wait out bad wind conditions.

"Cheer up!" my slave Nightbreeze said and laughed out against the sky as she took in the scenery, leaning casually against the railing of the ship. "One vomit closer to Moy now! We will reach there soon! The crew say maybe even this evening!"

I turned towards her and looked at her, framed against the creaking tall masts and all those cursed, interfering rope they use on ships. She was beautiful. Her big black eyes were so deep and alluring as to have the same effect on me as about twenty cups of sweet, white wine. The eyes were framed by a spotless face with high cheekbones and dimples that would come out whenever she smiled, which was most of the time.

"When you bend over the railing there you remind me of a stubborn billy goat trying to reach that one, sweet-tasting flower on the other side of the fence."

Some weeks ago that face had been marred by a thieves' cross, that tar-smeared pair of lines cut into her forehead, as well as a wicked wound that had severed her lips and which had almost reached her eyes. But I was a Wanderer, and I was blessed with the gift of healing. It had taken three days, but I had managed to cure her. Her two front teeth, though, were still missing. But as my power seemed to grow, I had hopes that I could help her with those as well in time. And with seasickness, of course.

"There was Braghian style spiced fish for breakfast. Your favorite. Should I bring you some? No? Sure. No, I can't eat it myself, I am already full. Key, I don't want to shove it up my behind! You are very rude," she grinned evilly. "Do you think I look fat?"

When I bought her, Nightbreeze had been thin and gaunt, underfed by her previous owners. Now she looked like a real woman again with full hips that promised hours of ecstasy to every man who saw her. Not that it gave me any advantages, for I slept in the men's hold and she in the women's quarter. Which honestly didn't matter much, for I was not man enough to try to make a move on her. Which was unimportant right now, for in my present state I was only concerned with emptying my stomach and maintaining a foul taste in my mouth. And the less said about and attention given to the changes that had occurred on her chest by any other man than me, the better.

"Have you given more thought about what to do when we get to Moy?" she asked me when I chose not to answer that most dangerous of all questions.

I shook my head thoughtfully. No, I had not.

"Horge, the Wanderer Sleetspray left for Braghia on the Great Whale three days ago." Nightbreeze was reciting from memory the words from a piece of paper we had stolen from a firedancer we had fought. "He has to be seeking the Wind Maiden. The filth must be killed as soon as possible, and should not be allowed to leave for Moy and reach the Three Steps to Salvation. Spare no expense in seeking him out, and in making him burn. Call up the Semblance in the furnace of House Garoth for additional instructions."

"We have," I sighed deeply as the next gut-wrenching pang made me buckle over, "already deduced that you are the 'Wind Maiden'."

She nodded. Nightbreeze had some strange powers over wind that neither of us could understand. But she could influence it at great mental cost to herself, and she had given it a few subtle nudges during our voyage. So effective had those nudges been that the unsuspecting captain had loudly declared that he had been given some of the most favorable conditions he had ever experienced. And he had been sailing now for thirty years, and so on.

"The three steps to salvation..." she wrinkled her brow, usually delightfully smooth after the cross was gone. "Three bald women for you to buy at the slave market?"

"Don't be daft!"

"I am not. Poor me, just one slave among many to vie for your attentions," she winked at me.

"Of course not," I said gruffly.

"Look, do your think these steps are physical or metaphorical?" she said a bit more seriously.

"How should I know," I complained. "I have at least never heard of such steps anywhere."

"Yes, I know," Nightbreeze threw up her hands in frustration. "But I have asked the crew, the other passengers, the guards, the ship physician, and the captain even. I would even ask the gems and the ore and the spice if they would let me into the hold, and I thought there was any use to it!".

"Nothing, I know." We had had this conversation before.

"No three-sectioned towers in Moy, no temples, bridges, members of the ruling council, or noble houses called salvation. It's like that virtue does not exist there!"

"We can look for it when we get there," I said morosely.

"Salvation or the three steps?" She grinned, passing one hand in front of her missing teeth. With the other she put her jet black, shining and glossy hair behind her ear. When I had met her she had been bald, but before we had left Braghia it had grown to about five inches. Now, for the last three weeks, it had remained this length. I loved it, loved watching it trying to catch up with her face as she constantly moved about. I wanted to touch her, to caress her, to bury my fists in her hair and my face between her-

At this point we were interrupted by the talk of a few of the rough Sea People crewmen discussing a vessel that was coming up from behind. They praised its beauty in no uncertain terms, and they could not be lying as they looked more towards the stern than at Nightbreeze, as they used to.

"She's got to be a personal yacht," a tall crewman said.

"Of course she is!" a fat one, evidently the chief among them, replied irritably. "What kind of cargo would she carry, so small and light in the water?"

"Gems?" a strong, stupid-looking one butted in. "The Braghians are mining a lot of valuables in those ugly, big mountains of theirs. Even gems of power, they say!"

"Shut up, or you get a kick in your gems of power!" groaned the fat one. "Can you imagine a ship like her having room for any soldiers to protect that kind of wealth? We have nine guards, and that's sparse. Bloody, cheap Gaill House! Pirates will get us any day soon!"

"So, a family traveling to Moy?" the tall man ventured.

"Your guess is as good as mine," fat man replied and shrugged his shoulder in a benign, fatherly way. "I think a young stud wanting to impress a couple of large-breasted harlots. Look at the sails! He must be wanting to pass us before we reach Moy. Might earn him a free blowjob, I reckon. Red sails methinks, gotta be Garoth House, lots of nutcases there. Fire worshippers and slavers the lot of'em. Now my brother, he worked as first mate for them, but he left after a voyage when-"

Neither Nightbreeze nor I paid any more attention to the last voyage of the fat man's brother with Garoth House. I forced the seasickness down into the belly where I felt it belonged, and the smile was wiped off my slave's face.

"They're following us!" I quacked.

"It's that cursed firedancer!" Nightbreeze swore.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / NonConsensual / Heterosexual / Fiction / FemaleDom / BBW /