Blood Magic

by DarkOne

Copyright© 2014 by DarkOne

Mind Control Sex Story: Based on the video game Dragon Age: a morally corrupt, bisexual, blood mage becomes the Warden; these are his adventures as he stumbles through, defeats the Blight, and finds love, even with the ability to bend anyone to his will with blood magic. Trigger warning: Rape, incest, pregnancy, mind control, torture (not descriptive), double-penetration. You've been warned.

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Ma/Ma   Mult   Consensual   NonConsensual   Reluctant   Rape   Coercion   Mind Control   Magic   High Fantasy   Fan Fiction   Incest   Brother   Cousins   MaleDom   Spanking   Rough   Group Sex   Orgy   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Pregnancy   Double Penetration   .

It was really too easy, I reflected when it was all over. I'd decided what I wanted, and getting it was almost anti-climactic. I say almost, because climaxes definitely weren't in short supply.

It all came down to blood magic. When Jowan came to me with a half-assed scheme to learn blood magic from Uldred, I didn't agree to it for power. The fact of the matter was, my harrowing was approaching, and I was terrified. My friend, Neria, had accidentally let slip more information than she should, and I was convinced I'd never be able to defeat a demon in the Fade. And seriously, who the fuck thinks throwing an unprepared apprentice into the Fade with a tame pride demon was a good idea anyway? My skill ran to hexes and paralysis – useful abilities, but not, by-and-large, lethal. So I readily agreed with Jowan, and soon Uldred was teaching us blood magic.

It turned out that I have a natural talent in the field. I learned quickly, without having to practice on my own much, unlike my friend Jowan, who got caught practicing by another apprentice. She swore she wouldn't tell on him, but the minute his back was turned, she went straight to Greagoir. That, however, is a different story.

So I learned blood magic, and then I had my harrowing. It turned out it was easy – I gave up Uldred to the pride demon, and the demon even taught me more blood magic in exchange. I'd never liked that bald, creepy freak anyway. And what I learned was that blood magic isn't only about blood. Pretty much any bodily fluid can be used – sweat, tears, urine ... even semen. There is power in organic matter, and more in organic matter that can be shared.

I put my new skills to use right away, testing them, learning from them. I learned that if I kissed someone, a good 'stick your tongue down their throat' sort of kiss, that I could influence them. Not control them, not make them do something dangerous or entirely out of character, but I could definitely make them want more. And once I had more ... Enough saliva could get me sex. With anyone, any way I wanted it. I could make the most reluctant straight man bend over for me, if I could find a way to get some of my saliva, or blood, or semen into him. And I admit I have a preference for men; not enough to prevent me from taking advantage of a delicious situation with a woman, but a definite preference. I got good at slipping a drop of blood into someone's wine, and once I had the kitchen staff under my thrall, I had access to everyone.

A couple of not-so-sneaky visits to the kitchen while the stew was being made, and I had everyone in the tower available to me as they all tried my 'special sauce'. A specially doctored meal for the First Enchanter, each of the senior Enchanters and higher ranking templars, and one for the Knight Commander, and I had free reign to do whatever I wished in the tower.

And so I did. I popped cherries, both anal and vaginal, shot load after load into the eager throat of a templar or mage, and humiliated and emasculated those who had tormented my friends and I. I especially enjoyed taking control of some of the homophobic templars; I could make them impotent, unable to perform, unable to orgasm, unless they had my cock in their mouth or their ass. But I could leave their homophobia intact; watching them overcome their disgust to beg me to fuck them, to use them in any way I wished, demanding more and more outrageous things in return for the fucking they craved, was almost more fun than the fucking itself.

I left my friends alone, of course – they had enough of my essence in them not to question my abilities, but I left their minds intact. The same went for most of my thralls; I took what I wanted from them, but when not being actively used, I left them to their own devices. Unable to question my power, but otherwise able to do their jobs or go about their day as normal.

For my friends, I gave them what they wanted. Neria's long-term crush, an asswipe named Anders, was suddenly extremely devoted to the pretty elf, and even stopped trying to escape. Jowan's crush, a sister named Lily, was suddenly open to the possibility of running away with a mage, and the two of them made their escape. Godwin got off the Lyrium, and Niall became a senior Enchanter.

I discovered, though, after the novelty of fucking and spanking and humiliating those around me wore off, that something felt missing. I had more freedom than any mage outside of the Tevinter Imperium, but I was still stuck in a tower, locked away from the world. Escaping would have been easy, but out there, without my thralls to protect me, I'd risk arrest by a passing templar patrol, and have nothing with which to fight them. I needed a plan.

And then the Blight happened. A horde of darkspawn, descending on southern Ferelden, led by the Archdemon itself. And something fortuitous happened. A Grey Warden, the Commander of the Grey, Duncan, came to the tower looking for recruits. It took almost nothing to get recruited; with both Irving and Greagoir singing my praises and entirely amenable to allowing my recruitment, I was away from the tower legitimately. I would never need fear arrest by templars, as long as I kept my Grey Warden tabard nearby.

I only lightly enthralled Duncan; he was nice, and mostly accommodating, the exception being telling me about the ritual involved with the Joining. Once I had him, he readily admitted that the Joining was dangerous; that even if I survived, it would severely limit my lifespan. He explained that only Grey Wardens could kill the Archdemon, and why. Once I knew, I made sure to secure his loyalty, and made my own plans.

In Ostagar, I left the King and the Teyrn strictly alone. I figured the templars could very well be keeping watch, and I had no desire to be caught manipulating the King, though part of me wouldn't have minded teaching the imbecile of a monarch a few things at the end of a whip. I met the other Grey Warden recruits, and managed to 'encourage' the recruitment of a soldier from Teyrn Loghain's army. Thus the Grey Wardens still got a viable recruit, but I would not have to go through the Joining. I could fake it, ensure that another took the killing blow, and be free. I'd have to enthrall every warden I met – Duncan had explained that wardens could sense each other – but I figured after Ostagar I'd have plenty of time.

And then something happened which changed my life. I met Alistair. He was teasing Jordan, a grumpy circle mage I knew slightly, and when he turned towards me, it felt like he reached out and ripped out my middle. He was gorgeous – tall, strong, with broad shoulders and blond hair – and had a smile that warmed me more than a thousand suns could have.

He made a couple of funny jokes, while I tried to gather my wits; it was very apparent that he didn't hold a high opinion of himself. I stuttered and stared in a way I'd never done, even before discovering blood magic. I didn't understand – if Andraste herself created the perfect man, he would look like Alistair. How could someone so gorgeous, so perfect, not know? But he didn't; his self-deprecating remarks made it clear. He ignored my bumbling, treating me kindly, trying to put me at ease. For the first time since my harrowing, I had absolutely no desire to enthrall someone. He was perfect, and anything I could do would only ruin it.

We went out into the Wilds, killing darkspawn and collecting blood; at our first camp, I made sure to do the cooking, ensuring that none of the recruits, nor Alistair, would catch on to me skipping the Joining. We got the treaties back from some crazy apostate in the Wilds, and headed back to Ostagar. I observed the Joining, making Duncan and Alistair believe I'd gone through it; I wasn't at all surprised when Jory tried to fight his way out. I was saddened when Daveth and the other recruit didn't survive, and briefly felt guilty about not Joining myself; I reasoned that I could get plenty more recruits after the battle if needed, and while I wasn't a Grey Warden I could fight beside them. And I also knew the formula for the Joining. I could recruit as many as needed down the road.

Being assigned to light the beacon in the Tower of Ishal came as a surprise, but I wasn't displeased to be paired with Alistair. I'd determined to myself not to harm him in any way, but any excuse to be near him and bask in his presence was fine by me. However, when we found the tower overrun with darkspawn and those few of the Teyrn's men who hadn't fled as corpses, I knew something was gravely wrong. Without an army of thralls, however, there was nothing I could do but fight to get to the beacon and hope for the best.

Of course, the best wasn't meant to be; no amount of magic could have prevented Loghain's withdrawal or Cailan's death. Being overrun by darkspawn was not the way I'd intended to die, so when I woke in Morrigan's hut in the Wilds, I was unsurprisingly grateful. I felt quite guilty that I'd not guessed Loghain's plans and changed his mind, somehow, but there was nothing I could do about it after the fact. Duncan and the rest of the Grey Wardens were gone.

Alistair was devastated, and his pain made me ache. I contemplated erasing it, allowing him to move on pain free, but I knew that if he didn't mourn, he wouldn't be who he was, and I left him alone. I didn't touch Flemeth either; blood mages can recognize their own, to some extent, and I did not relish the idea of pitting my strength against a centuries-old abomination. She offered Morrigan to us, and I was only too happy to accept; she and Alistair didn't get along, but she was easy on the eyes and a decent enough primal mage, without the signs of blood magic I could sense on Flemeth. And Alistair, for all that he didn't like the woman, also couldn't keep his eyes off her tits.

I assured Morrigan that I wished her to express her opinions openly, to which Flemeth replied cheekily, "You may come to regret that. Though, should that happen, I imagine you can come up with a way to silence her." The implication was clear – silencing her with my cock in her mouth would be the easiest way – and I wondered what sort of sick relationship Morrigan had with her mother. Not that I cared, particularly, but it was interesting that Flemeth essentially gave me permission to mess with the mind of her daughter.

We were joined by a mabari on the way to Lothering; he wouldn't come near me, but seemed to like Alistair well enough; I couldn't resist the puppy-dog eyes of my warden 'brother' any more than he could resist those of the animal he named Barkspawn, and so the dog stayed. In Lothering, we picked up supplies – even without blood, manipulating the merchants into giving us what we needed for very little money wasn't hard – and even managed to pick up a couple of party members: a perky, beautiful Chantry sister with obvious martial skills, and a Qunari warrior. Leliana joined Morrigan in being eye candy for Alistair to ogle, and the Qunari made even me nervous. I put in a bit of extra blood into the stew the first night to ensure that I could easily control the giant, as well as putting Morrigan and Leliana under my thumb.

I didn't take either of them to bed, though my trip to Ostagar had been the longest I'd gone without sex since discovering my powers, and although I longed to relieve my stress, I was discovering something else – I didn't want sex unless it was with Alistair. I wanted him like I'd never wanted anyone, but I truly, sincerely, wanted him to want me back. Suddenly enslaving and exploiting didn't appeal. I knew I'd have to make some adjustments to his sexual preference – open-minded bisexual seemed like a good goal – and I hoped to encourage him to develop a self-esteem, a sense of self-worth, so while I gained control of Leliana, Sten, and Morrigan, I also began nudging Alistair.

I would flatter him, or make Leliana or one of the others do the same, while pushing slightly on his self-identity to believe the compliments he was given. I knew it would take a while, but I was fine with that. I didn't want to rush things, for possibly the first time ever.

We discussed where to go, and with little effort Alistair convinced me to head immediately for the castle in Redcliffe to check on his foster-father, who we'd heard was unwell. I was angry at the way Alistair had been treated as a child – he didn't even understand that it was wrong, and his lack of self-worth was explained – but I couldn't say no when he begged me to go there first.

Finding out Alistair was heir to the Fereldan throne was something of a shock, I admit. There were so many possibilities, I was positively tickled at the news. I downplayed it, Alistair being obviously uncomfortable with the idea since he'd not yet fully embraced the changes I was slowly making to his psyche.

Fighting through a horde of undead villagers was not something I enjoyed, and it didn't take much to realize there was a demon around somewhere. I enthralled Bann Teagan by offering him my water skin; by the time we reached Redcliffe, I was desperate for some sexual relief. When Alistair and the others napped the morning after the attack, I took Bann Teagan into an abandoned house and fucked his tight, virgin ass and his throat until I was sated. Afterwards I made him forget; it was just easier than keeping him controlled while he was angry at the violation.

Isolde was a bitch, and I decided to enthrall her and find some way to get revenge at my earliest opportunity. I allowed Teagan to go in the castle with her, and we fought our way through the dungeons from the secret castle entrance. I was enraged to find my friend Jowan there; apparently he'd been captured and Lily had been killed by a templar before Loghain bribed him to poison Arl Eamon. And then that bitch, Isolde, had my friend tortured when her mage son became an abomination and unleashed the undead on Redcliffe.

We took Jowan with us as we made our way to where Teagan, Isolde, and the possessed Connor were. Connor ran off, leaving us to clean up a bunch of enthralled guards. Fortunately Teagan awoke from his mind-control before we had to injure him. After some discussion, with more than a little bit of coercion on my part, we got the group to agree that using Isolde's life force to fuel Jowan's spell was actually pretty fair. I, however, was not satisfied with that as revenge. She had tortured my friend, had killed dozens through her ignorance and selfishness, and made Alistair's life miserable. She deserved more.

Convincing everyone to wait until the morning for the ritual, I dragged Isolde, Teagan, and Jowan aside into a locked chamber for the night. I offered Isolde some wine, with a couple of drops of my blood in it; she thanked me and slammed the entire goblet back, making me smile. Once I had her, I forced her to strip and lay down on the bed, then I silenced her. I allowed Jowan to take his revenge, zapping her nipples and pussy with electricity, making her jump and try to scream. Then I slowly fucked Teagan's ass as Jowan raped the helpless noblewoman.

"You ever fuck her, Teagan?" I asked. He shook his head. "You want to?"

He hesitated, but finally nodded. When Jowan was done with her, I nudged Teagan forward, still with my cock hilted in his ass. Jowan and Teagan pulled Isolde to the edge of the bed, spreading her legs; I pressed my hips forward, burying Teagan's length in Isolde's sloppy pussy. For a while I allowed him to slide back and forth between thrusting into Isolde's depths and sliding his ass onto my cock. He gripped her tits, squeezing and pinching her nipples painfully; I guessed she'd made his life hell more than once too, based on his disregard for her pain.

I'd made Teagan accept my cock but hadn't altered anything else; his desire to punish Isolde was all his own. After a while of hard fucking, he turned his head to beg me, "Make her roll over?"

I smiled, an evil, smug smile, and nodded. Pulling Teagan out of Isolde, I forced her to roll over and press her face into the bed with her ass in the air. Without care, without lubrication other than Jowan's seed from her pussy, Teagan slammed into Isolde's ass. She'd have screamed if she could; as it was, Jowan took the opportunity of her wide-open mouth to jam his cock inside, still sticky. I prevented her from biting, but otherwise just let him have his way with her mouth and throat. And Teagan's movements in her ass were getting more and more frantic.

As one final indignity, when Jowan was hard again, I encouraged Teagan to stop his relentless pounding and allow Jowan to slide underneath the Arlessa; he held his shaft up while Teagan's hands on her hips forced the woman's pussy onto it. From Teagan's groan and Jowan's gasp, I guessed the double penetration made her incredibly tight; finally impatient, I began driving the pace of a furious fucking, Teagan and Jowan alternating their thrusts, me burying myself in Teagan's ass.

When I went over, I made sure that Jowan and Teagan did as well; both men jerked and spasmed inside her, while I did the same in Teagan. Shuddering to a halt, we slowly separated, forcing Isolde to clean our cocks before putting them away. Sated, I left Jowan alone with a silenced, but now pliable Isolde, and went to a guest room to get some sleep.

Isolde looked a little worse for wear in the morning; she walked gingerly, like she'd fucked a horse, and judging by how she winced when she sat or leaned back, I guessed Jowan had either spanked or whipped her ass and her back. A minor tweak, and no one else noticed. When it was time, she stepped into the ritual circle Jowan had made, and I watched as he slit her throat, running his hands through the blood as he chanted. Morrigan was going into the Fade – as a blood mage, I had no desire to tempt any other demons. Isolde's body collapsed to the ground, and Morrigan fell unconscious. It lasted maybe half-an-hour; shortly after she awoke, Connor came running down from his room, no longer possessed. We kept him away from his mother's corpse, telling him nothing except that she died to try to 'save Redcliffe'. Which was sort of true, I supposed.

The Arl was still comatose, so we gathered the information on the research into the Urn of Sacred Ashes, and headed out. We decided to stop at the Circle on our way to Denerim – we used Eamon's boat to get to the Circle docks quickly – and not only gather that treaty but possibly research Jowan's poison in the vast library. Jowan I allowed to escape, with enough gold to get him on a ship out of Ferelden.

The templar on the docks at the Tower didn't want to allow us to cross, but as my thrall it took very little to change his mind. He didn't know anything about why everyone was being refused access. Once we arrived in the main hall, it became obvious. I wanted to cry; the damn demon I'd unleashed on Uldred had somehow taken over the whole damn tower.

I screamed at Greagoir. "And while Uldred was turning into an abomination, what the fuck were you all doing? Running for your lives, like scared children?"

As my thrall, he was forced to tell the truth, and admitted he had indeed turned tail and run. I demanded that he gather his remaining templars and follow me into the tower to rescue any mages that might remain, as well as rid the world of Uldred and the Circle's tame pride demon. With Greagoir and a dozen templars with us, we cleared the tower quickly and easily. Wynne joined us to fight, but the rest of the rescued mages we sent to the main hall to be safe. At one point a sloth demon tried to send us all into the Fade, but there were too many of us; he seemed only to be able to influence four at a time, which left multiple other templars available to smite, as well as my efficient party of fighters to take the demon down.

When we finally reached the harrowing chamber, we found Irving and a handful of other mages, weakened but alive. My friends were all there, except Niall who'd apparently succumbed to sleep at the sloth demon and died. Once Uldred was defeated, Wynne revived Irving and the two spent a while healing up the injured templars. My group had come through unscathed, thanks to making the templars open the doors first.

Poor Cullen was a mess; as one of the few templars I'd liked in my years at the Circle I felt bad; I stabilised his mind as much as I was able, and left him in the care of Neria and Anders, the two best spirit healers in the tower.

Guilty as I felt, I dragged one of the most attractive templars, Greg, into a nearby room, locked the door, and used his ass and throat to ease my conscience.

Wynne requested to join our group after we secured the agreement of Greagoir and Irving to aid against the Blight. I agreed, only because I knew I already had the old biddy in my thrall; I didn't need her judging me. And we really did need a healer; as a blood mage, my healing abilities were negligible, and Morrigan knew as little as I.

We headed out to Denerim on foot; every night, after making camp, I spent time strengthening Alistair's self-confidence and loosening his sexual inhibitions. I was making progress; the self-deprecating jokes got less frequent, without otherwise altering his personality. I was beginning to realize I'd fallen in love with the awkward, adorable, utterly gorgeous warden. It was strange – as someone with the power to shape those around me to my will, I was curiously reluctant to change anything about Alistair. And for the first time, as I watched him emerge from his tent in only trousers and a tunic, I wondered what it would be like to give up control, to allow him to fuck me.

We were ambushed by Antivan Crows on the way to Denerim. I recruited their leader, knowing I could enthrall him to prevent him trying to hurt us; a little bit of adjustment, and everyone's complaints stopped. The elf was gorgeous, sinfully seductive, and I knew I'd be unable to resist seeing if he was as good as he claimed. The only manipulation required would be convincing him to keep it secret.

The first night after, in camp, I adjusted the rest of the group to not notice, and I crawled into Zevran's tent, surprising him. I didn't even need to ask for him to present his ass to me, and as I spent inside him, I reflected that he was, indeed, as good as he thought he was. I woke to his mouth wrapped around my cock, and then allowed him to ride me to mutual completion before we set off for the day.

In Denerim, I recognized 'Weylon' as a blood mage right away; we pitted our strength against each other, and I won easily. We obtained the information needed to find the Urn and Brother Genitivi; an enthralled Weylon told us all about Haven, the dragon cult, the risen Andraste, and the fact that they'd kidnapped the Brother. I was annoyed – we'd come halfway across Ferelden to get to Denerim, and we were going to have to go back the way we came to get to Haven. The one thing blood magic didn't give me was clairvoyance.

We ran into a spoiled, bitchy daughter of a nobleman in the market; I pretended to woo her, bought her a drink at the Gnawed Noble, then took her money (with her blessing) and her virginity in a back room of the tavern.

We left Denerim dramatically richer, and decided to find the Dalish before heading back to Redcliffe on our way to Haven. It took several days of crashing around in that Maker-forsaken forest before we stumbled upon their camp. Only to discover they'd been attacked by werewolves! Their Keeper was a blood mage, and with a bit of discussion I managed to get him to tell me the entire story. I figured he deserved his revenge, and had no trouble helping them kill Witherfang.

The werewolves proved largely easy foes; blood magic parted the barrier they'd erected in the forest, and we slaughtered the lot of the furry cursed creatures. Zevran aided me in cutting out Witherfang's heart, and we presented it to Zathrian, who cured his fellows and promised aid against the Blight without hesitation.

By the time we left the forest, Alistair was showing remarkable growth in terms of confidence and easing up of his inhibitions. He no longer blushed so extremely when Zev flirted with him, and I caught him watching me bathe one morning with more than idle curiosity; he had managed to smack down Morrigan several times without help, and she stopped trying to aggravate him as a result.

I felt he was finally ready for me to approach him. I asked to speak to him, pulled him a ways away into the bush, and told him I thought I was falling in love with him, that I wanted to spend the night in his tent.

He examined me critically, before asking me exactly why he should bother himself about being with me. I stared at him, open-mouthed; apparently I'd done more for his confidence than I'd thought – too much, in fact. I finally managed to ask him what he wanted; he indicated that he had a variety of fantasies that he wanted to experience, including multiple members of our little group. He told me that if I could give him Zevran, Leliana, and a submissive Morrigan, he'd consider taking my ass.

I could have adjusted it, could have made him want me, but dominant Alistair was damn sexy, and I couldn't deny that coercing our group members into letting him fuck them sounded like fun.

He wanted me to start with Leliana, so I did. That night, I snuck into her tent and broke her to my will, as much physically as with blood magic. By the morning, she would let me fuck any of her holes, wrap her tits around my cock and suck me off, or bare herself for me to spank or whip as I desired. It took a little bit of work to convince her to give herself to Alistair as a plaything, but she eventually did. That day she spent flirting with Alistair shamelessly, and that night, the two of us went into Alistair's tent.

She seduced him, taking his virginity and teaching him to be a good lover, while I watched. I was a bit nervous, finding out that his cock was as large as his frame, but I wanted it anyway. Oh yes, I wanted it. Once he was done ravishing Leliana – twice – he rewarded me with a heated kiss. I was positively giddy.

He told me he wanted a few days to fully appreciate Leliana, but that he'd want Morrigan next, so while Leliana went to Alistair's tent, I went to Morrigan's.

The witch was a little harder to coerce than Leliana, and I had to apply more blood magic to get her to let me fuck her, especially when I tried to take her ass. She fought me, but she'd had enough of my blood and semen to have no chance to fully resist. She was still reluctant, the next morning, but I was able to force her to clean me up before we headed off that day.

That night, I taught her obedience with my belt; she stopped trying to fight me after I whipped her cunt with it, and opened herself to allow me complete access however I wanted it. I tweaked her a little more to make her need it, need me – the humiliation, the sexual release, my cock in her pussy or ass. And then I refused to give it to her. I made her beg, made her humiliate herself while I watched, made her fuck her own fingers until she was raw, before plunging my cock balls-deep into her ass. She screamed and came, oblivious to me watching, oblivious to the pain in her clit and her nipples as I pinched and twisted to my heart's content.

When I told her she couldn't have me again until she managed to seduce Alistair, she balked, but by then I knew she needed me. I walked out, leaving her to her own devices; she came crawling to me, begging, but I told her she needed to have Alistair before she could have me.

The next night, she slapped Leliana, sending the bard back to her own tent, then grabbed me and dragged me into Alistair's. She initially tried to boss him around, but seeing that he had no interest in that, she changed her approach. She tried for seductive, but when he appeared bored even with that, she finally settled on submissive.

To test her resolve, despite her request, he took her ass first; Leliana had apparently been reluctant to allow him there due to his size, but when he persisted she gave it up. He'd discovered he liked anal, and took his time plowing through Morrigan's back door. When I gave her my cock to suck, she cried in relief as she could now start to feel pleasure.

His stamina was impressive, and he remained hard even after filling her ass. He turned her to face him on her knees, and sat back on his heels, before demanding she climb onto him and put his cock in her pussy. She reluctantly agreed, lowering herself on his cock, then beginning to rock. I had an idea, and releasing my own cock from its confines, shuffled up behind her. Alistair held her hips still as I penetrated her ass; she cried out in pain from the double penetration. It felt divine; I could feel my cock rubbing against Alistair's through the thin wall between her ass and pussy, Alistair's seed lubricating and coating me, and she was almost unbearably tight.

When we began to fuck her in earnest, she cried out continuously as we pounded her. When I felt Alistair jerk and release, I followed close behind. My release triggered a painful orgasm from Morrigan, and the three of us howled together until we fell apart, exhausted. I made Morrigan clean both of us with her mouth before allowing her to dash, naked, back to her own tent. Alistair kissed me lazily and spooned up behind me; for the first time, I fell asleep in my love's embrace.

The next night Alistair took both Leliana and Morrigan into his tent, while I began to work my magic on Zevran. Getting him to agree took unsurprisingly little work; an orgy sounded like a fine idea to him, and like me, he found Alistair's muscular physique drool-worthy. I fucked Zev to the sounds of Alistair grunting and two women crying out, whether in pain or pleasure I had no idea.

 
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