Thread: They Who Thirst (Dr. Nibbles & SomethingEsoteric)

Iridith rode her mighty steed, its coat black as night and eyes red as blood, through the remains of her warband. They sat finally resting after a long forced march to escape from their attackers. Iridith halted her steed with a Nordic command and looked over what they salvaged. They had only managed to gather two carts worth of prisoners, Iridith's former worry had begun to rise into complete panic. However she did not where such a demeanor on her face, she refused to. Thankfully their brother's were fine, still armored, chained together with sacks over their heads, keeping them dormant. Some fight, right Cheif? spoke a woman sitting on a rock beside her. Without speaking Iridith swept her blade down, severing the woman's head from her shoulders, a spray of hot blood spurting from the wound. Stupid slut. she hissed, spitting on the fallen corpse. I'aqshy rode next to Iridith, sighing in frustration, now understanding the worry of her chieftain. The two sat in silence, the torches of their sisters lighting the path they rest on, surrounded by dense forest and with only one way to travel in both directions, they would not be ambushed again. How did they know? I'aqshy finally spoke breaking the silence How did they know where to find us. Iridith remained silent, all she could think about was that priestess. That beautiful femme fatale, the most powerful warrior she'd ever come across. She could only indulge in fantasies of her as a bride, raping her nightly, having her birth her next batch of kin, showing her off as her greatest trophy and achievement. To break a Priest of Sigmar... is untold, unheard of. She dreamed of bringing her in chains to the Exalted One on his throne in Aeslings, denying him to even touch her for Iridith can tame the untameable, and not even the Exalted One has such power. He will envy her so he will go mad, his soldiers will follow her instead, they will betray him, she will usurp him and hang his corpse from the highest peak in the Norse. She will become the true favored of Slaanesh.... and NOTHING will stop her from receiving such glory. Hello? Iridith! shouted I'aqshy, looking at Iridith will frustration, her tone sharp and iritated. Are you even listening? What are your orders?! Iridith craned her head, her eyes burning with hatred. I'aqshy shuttered at the burning rage her Cheiftain held. M-m'lady? she shuttered. With lightening reflexes Iridith delivered a powerful punch to the side of her seerer's head, her mask falling to the wayside and knocking her from her horse, the warband quickly turned their attention to their murderous leader, seeing what delights she would perform to the weakest link of their kin. Iridith dismounted and stood over the medicine woman kicking her hard in the stomach and forcing her back to the ground. The warband cheered for blood as she climbed atop her and began powerfully delivering blow after blow to the palid, frail woman's face. After several harsh and devastating punches, Iridith let the woman fall back, releasing her robe, only to run her hands down her heaving chest as she spat blood and teeth. Iridith's soft hand met the intersection of her lap and I'aqshy's body, Iridith already hard from her vivid imagination need release before the next fight if she was to face her adversary again. Eagerly, Iridith stood and flipped over the battered woman, who's pleas finally began to emerge. With her mighty grip she ripped the robe from her lower half revealing her bound cock and plump rear. Iridith slid her own binding aside revealing her monstrous member and ripped the wraping from her victim. Her cries and pleas were as pitiful as those from her captives, something that only further fueled her desire to destroy and break her own second in command. Her head pressed hard against the ass of her opponent, a feeble NO! the only thing she could muster to stop her. With a rough thrust the Cheiftain penetrated the witch fully, causing both to scream in ecstasy and pain respectively. The crowed gathered and cheered, some unwrapping themselves to join in. BACK OFF! Iridith spat, her eyes wild like an alpha wolf taming the pack and claiming its rite. Back the hell off or I'll cut your dicks off and feed them to the brother's. Iridith hissed and the her underlings backed off, their cheiftain still making eye contact with as many as she could as she rapidly began thrusting into her victim. We ride at dawn. Theamoor is ours she groaned over I'aqshy's pitiful sobs.