FSE

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These chapters are getting longer. I choose to view that as a good thing. 9k words!

I've been very happy with the reception this series has been getting. I wondered if it would fatigue me, but nothing could be further from the truth. I already have really fun plans for the next two chapters and cannot wait to get around to writing them. In the meantime, I consider this to be one of my best chapters yet. I'm really enjoying how their relationship is growing.

I feel like this chapter will make some of my fans really happy, and others maybe disappointed. If you're one of the latter, heed my words: you don't know where this is going yet, and you might be pleasantly surprised.

In the meantime, enjoy. I read every comment, every DM. Your faves and votes and watches are all cherished. Know that!

---

Something was very wrong.

Rhix knew this before he was fully out of dreamland. There was a part of him - as there exists in everyone - that did not bother with informing his higher mental functions of danger. Senses collected from his ears, from his flesh, shot straight past his more conscious mental orders and straight into his limbic system. Without having to hear or see anything, he knew immediately that he was in danger.

This served only to brace him for the attack. He was laying in bed, face down (as was his normal posture; one did not sleep comfortably on one's back with a tail). This was not an optimal posture for personal self defense, and his assailants were upon him almost immediately.

One man jumped onto his back, flattening him to the rough straw mattress the moment he started to push from it. This flattened him out. Two other men, one on either side of him, grabbed his arms with both hands and pressed them down to the bed, pinning him. The man on his back grabbed his head, clamping his hands over his muzzle, holding it shut. Shu had an admirable bite force, but much like crocodiles, not as much power on opening.

Adrenaline shot through his system. Time slowed down. His eyes opened and he saw a fourth man had Narva in his arms, having hauled her from the bed moments before the attack. He could see her struggling. Oddly, she wasn't making any sound. Physically she was resisting, but the man was large and had a grip on her arms with one hand and the other wrapped around her neck in a choke hold.

Narva was looking at him. She was smiling.

That bitch!

She'd figured something out. He knew it. She'd found another loophole somewhere. He heard the men on top of him talking. They were yammering about binding him, about looking for the money. The man on his right arm was trying in vain to remove the bracelet.

These were not professionals, Rhix knew. Smarter to brain him while he was still sleeping, or slit his throat. Smarter to wake him and hold a knife to his neck and demand things. They'd skipped all that and went straight into the 'fight' phase. But they made the same mistake all humans made when tangling with Shu. It stood to reason; it wasn't like it was something they ever had to consider when fighting each other. It just wasn't baked into their being. No instinct for it.

They always forgot about the tail.

It was a bit longer than his legs and thicker than his thighs close to the base. Unlike his arms and legs, which had to support complex joints that somewhat weakened them structurally, his tail was simply a sturdy extension of his spine, framed on all sides by thick, solid, powerful muscle. With contemptuous ease he whipped it up, coiled it around the neck of the man on his right arm, and jerked.

His prone position, combined with the additional ballast of the hundreds of pounds of human atop him, gave Rhix a wonderful center of gravity to maximize the torque of the throw. The man uttered a single strangled grunt before he was hurled bodily across the room. It was still dark, and Rhix did not see where he landed, but whatever his body struck, broke with a cacophonous crash.

One down, and now he had a free hand.

"Fuck, his tail!" cried the man on his back, far too late for it to make any difference.

His hand shot underneath the pillow his head was pressed into. He found the handle of his dagger and yanked it free. The man on his back was in the process of shouting something to his fellows when he screamed, as Rhix stabbed blindly up and behind him, opening multiple wounds on the man's arms. He let go of Rhix's mouth.

"HELP!" Rhix shouted. "THIEVES!"

The man on his left arm let go with one hand to frantically punch at Rhix with the other. The blows landed, but in the midst of a fight, chock full of adrenaline, he wasn't sure he felt them. Instead, he bucked his body violently to throw the man on his back off his balance. His tail whipped around, and the man was sent sprawling to the floor.

"Shit, he's getting up!" said the man holding Narva. Rhix eyes flicked in that direction, and he caught for just a moment to look of annoyed frustration on Narva's face.

Another punch, this one to the back of his head. That got his attention. As the room spun, Rhix relied on pure animal ferocity. There were no rules here. No means of honorable combat. He launched himself at the man, taking him full in the chest. They were of equal size, but Rhix outweighed him, and the two tumbled to the floor in a mess of limbs. Rhix, however, was armed, and he plunged the dagger into the man's screaming body a half dozen times before something hit him.

It seems the man he'd thrown hadn't been fully incapacitated. In a more dramatic story, the chair might have shattered in a satisfying shower of wooden fragments; instead, it simply cracked off the side of Rhix's shoulders and head. Momentarily dazed, he lost track of the dagger, which skittered into the darkness.

"Fuck! Murray!" the man holding the chair said, watching his fellow spit blood.

"I can't hold her, help me you fucks- ow!" The man holding Narva let go of her arms, the squirming kobold using the opportunity to swing her body up and over him in an acrobatic move one can only perform when one is both muscular and small. She took his back easily, wrapping her arms around his throat, sinking in a choke. Rhix sat up and groggily watched the man stumble backwards, but Narva was glowering at him.

Oh, right. He was still fighting.

The man with the chair lifted it over his head but Rhix launched at him, tackling him in the middle and sending the two of them to the ground. There they wrestled, but Shu naturally had the advantage of an extra limb. He was able to pin one of his legs with his tail, giving him the leverage to mount the man from the front, whereupon he rained heavy punches into the general vicinity of his head until he stopped kicking.

Someone grabbed him by the neck. He smelled blood - ah, the man he'd stabbed in the arms. He was wrenched off his floored opponent. The arm wrapped around his throat and he felt the pressure on the sides of his neck. He knew, from his many years in combat professions, that he had maybe a handful of seconds before lack of blood flow to his brain would snuff out his consciousness like a candle. His fingers found one of the knife wounds in the man's arm, and he plunged them inside.

The man screamed and let go. Rhix was on him instantly, pounding with his fists until he, too, stopped moving. Gulping for breath, Rhix looked up in time to see the fourth man collapse, his legs going out from under him like wet noodles. Narva grunted, but kept the choke in place until the man was fully limp. Only then did she let go and squeeze out from under him.

Rhix took stock of his situation. The fight had felt like it'd taken hours and yet in reality had probably only lasted less than a minute. One man was laying still in a pool of blood. Another was laying in a rigid and unnatural posture, eyes open, making odd snoring sounds. The man he'd just been pummeling was groaning and laying limp. Rhix was acutely aware of a numb feeling in his head that he knew would blossom into the mother of all headaches later.

He and Narva were both naked, of course, but largely unhurt. He lacked any lacerations, and she looked pristine.

He opened his mouth to say something when heavy footfalls approached from the hallway. The door - which had been left slightly ajar by the intruders - was nearly knocked off its hinges by the thick arm of an armored man who shouldered his way inside, armed with a short-sword. He was trailed by a man Rhix recognized as the innkeeper.

"Hands up ya filthy lizard!" the armored man snarled, but the keeper's hand landed on his shoulder.

"No!" he said, "he's the tenant! Him and the, uh, the kobold!"

Rhix flopped to a sitting position, adrenaline dumping from his system and leaving him exhausted and shaking. Narva stood with a great deal more self control; she was hardly scratched, and seemed more annoyed than anything.

"Oh," said the armored man. There were other feet in the hallway now, and Rhix heard the clank of armor. More of the town watch, he imagined. Damn! And he'd hoped to rifle through the thieves' pockets, too.

---

What followed was, for Rhix, a very instructive experience. He'd never been the victim before. Most of his life had been spent in the employ of folks who wished very much not to be victims, or who had hired him with the express intent to victimize others. It was an enlightening glimpse behind the curtain.

What was immediately obvious was that he had presented them with a curious scenario. Lone victims rarely incapacitate numerous assailants; it was clear the watch felt out of sorts with so little to do other than bind the living thieves and bundle up the dead one. There was a moment's concern about that fatality, but with the Innkeeper's vouching, it was obvious to all that Rhix was legally and morally in the clear.

He'd dressed. Narva was left as she was, though the watch nevertheless wrapped a blanket around her. Rhix recognized how bizarre it would seem to protest this and kept mum. He was given some tea, and the local barber (who doubled as a doctor and surgeon) was brought around to look at his wounds. His head was throbbing, but scales did not bruise, and having accurately answered a few simple questions, it was decided he hadn't been knocked simple.

And that, really, had been that. The Innkeeper had moved them to a new room; additionally he had refunded their money and pledged they could stay the week, free of charge. The still-living thieves had been hauled away, and when the door closed, they were once again alone. The sun was rising outside.

Rhix sat on the side of the bed, arms over his knees, letting a quiet moment wash over him. Then, his eyes darted to the side, where Narva sat on the chair near the corner, wrapped in a blanket, watching him.

"Strip that off," he said, pointing at the floor in front of him. "Stand here and face me."

Narva huffed, shucking the blanket and walking, naked, across the room. She turned to look at him, and their eyes met.

She looked smug. Disappointed, maybe, but defiant. Her hands were at her sides, tail swaying back and forth.

"You did this," he said.

"Did what, master?" she asked, her voice the resonant tones of pure innocence.

"Got those men to attack me."

She gasped. "But master!" she went on, her voice light and nearly sing-song. "You know this cunt cannot harm you, or through inaction, cause you to harm!"

"I bet you can get others to harm me," he observed, sourly.

"But master!" she said, again. "How could this cunt possibly do that? This cunt is forbidden by the rules, master, the rules!"

---

Narva had, in point of fact, very much arranged this all to happen.

She'd been dispatched to fetch dinner. Nude, and with Rhix's salty seed still very much on her tongue, she'd slumped down the stairs to the wolf's den that was the tavern floor. That was when an idea had struck her.

She skipped the rest of the way. "My master wishes for his food!" she'd sang out, to the light chuckles of all present. More importantly, she had the attention of the room. "He has a big day tomorrow!"

"Sure he ain't gonna be all tuckered out fuckin you?" asked one of the men, to generalized laughter.

"Oh, no!" she'd replied, skipping to the counter, flicking her tail, bouncing on her toes, and giving one and all an innocent, doe-eyed look. "We've only just come with all this money! He made so much coin, on his recent business! Oh, but this slave is all too stupid to know anything about it, except this cunt knows the good times are coming soon!"

That had quieted the room somewhat. A platter with some steaming foodstuffs was slid across the bar to her.

"Just him and his slave!" she said, cheerfully. "Maybe he could hire one of you! You all look so strong, and he without a bodyguard. I'm just a little," she thought for a moment, "fuck-puppet! So I wouldn't know anything about that. You all seem so nice! Well, goodnight!"

She had then trotted her way back upstairs, and conveniently forgotten to lock the door.

The collar would not allow her to hire assassins. That was a direct, meaningful step to cause harm. The collar, however, was not sentient. She knew this by feeling. There was no communicating with it, there was no intelligence behind it. It was like a predatory plant, snapping at flies. It simply reacted to anything that violated the Rules.

Well. Lying to a roomful of men wasn't against the rules. Failing to lock a door wasn't against the rules. Sure, such things had the potential to cause harm, but so did offering her master food. (He could choke!) So, there were some practical exceptions to things. No rule could be strictly absolute.

The collar was dutiful, ever watchful, but in a very particular way, stupid. She was getting adept at finding its blind spots.

---

Rhix stared at her. The stare went on for a little while.

"I need to keep a closer eye on you," he said.

"You'll get lax," she answered, smiling, in a more normal tone of voice. "You can't watch me all the time. You can't dictate my every movement and leave any room for yourself. You'll slip up, and the next rogues may be more competent."

"And if they slit your throat, too?"

"As long as you're first," she answered, quickly. "This cunt likes her chances."

Rhix rolled his head back, blinking at the ceiling. "You understand," he said at length, "this means I'm going to have to be stricter."

"Stricter," Narva replied, deadpan. "Than keeping me naked, and making me call you master, and calling myself 'this cunt', and sucking your dick on command, and everything else? More strict than that?"

Rhix's eyes flashed. "Oh," he said, smirking. "Oh, yes."

---

Rhix's dark prognostication would have to wait. First thing first, he needed to investigate the town - which meant, of course, that_th_ey would have to investigate the town. And so it was that Rhix strode with confidence down the street with a naked kobold trotting along behind him, hands clenched into fists at her sides, eyes turned to the ground.

Having a look around the town was important. He needed money, and there were, when it came down to it, two ways to get money. Either through the economical principal of turning his labor into value and having that value compensated in precious minerals minted into agreed-upon local currency, or the more direct approach of using an entirely different and more surprising form of labor and securing that valued currency more unilaterally. Rhix had never really stooped to thieving. He did not consider taking from the dead to be theft as such. Besides, the dead has always been, in their way, active participants in the general goings-on and so he considered himself, if not morally righteous, at least morally adjacent.

He glanced back at the nude and miserable kobold and reflected that perhaps he could not claim even that degree of moral purity. The fact remained, he was no brigand. Not yet.

Besides, his act of heroic self defense had introduced him to half the town watch. He was also learning that he and her were the only nonhumans in the town to speak of. Perhaps there were a small handful squirreled away somewhere, but a combination of two reptiles in a sea of human faces, compounded with the looks of novel wonder they received, informed him that he was a unique specimen in Chandry.

His mind cast back to the village. That close, they likely ran afoul one another frequently. A wise city-Shu would avoid areas of such racial friction. Alas that he did not have the freedom to choose, in that respect.

Thankfully, any racial animus that might have come his way was checked by the fascination Narva attracted. Not just for her nudity, though it was clear that held a not-insignificant amount of entertainment for many, but due to her species. Kobolds did not have a much rosier reputation among humans, but of a different stripe. They were viewed more as a nuisance. Talking vermin. Yappy little lizards with puffed up self-esteem who were always up to some trouble. Seeing one cringing itself into a singularity as it marched bare-assed across the humble town was a sight to behold and many beheld it in varying degrees of enjoyment.

Not great for keeping a low profile, but it had the inverse effect of keeping most at bay. After all, how does one strike up a conversation with a 'lizardfolk' trailing a collared, naked kobold?

Herrod had rather accurately described the economic crisis in the town. Civic decay abounded. There was little fresh construction, no signs seeking labor or apprentices. Chandry lacked a port, and though it was a minor crossroads, the trading seemed to be poor, with little need for porters or wagon-men. Market stalls unrelated to food rest un-shopped, their sellers leaning on counters and casting concerned looks up and down the streets, or clustered in hushed conversation. Farmer stalls lay nearly bare, with only the most unappetizing foodstuffs left in the baskets. Rhix clenched his jaw. There wouldn't be either any good thieving or working in this town. The residents were shoring against a possible famine; the tension was thick in the air.

They needed to get out of there. But how?

"Oi, lizard," came a gruff voice belonging to a man approaching from behind.

Both he and Narva turned to see a handful of armored and apparently well-fed men bearing heraldic uniforms approaching them. These were not watchmen.

"Rhix," said Rhix.

"If you say so," the man said, casting a glance at Narva and needing a moment to get the wagon train of his thinking back on the road. "Er, yer coming with us."

Rhix groaned. "I'm not under arrest, am I?"

"Depends," said the man, with the patience of someone who knows exactly how his day was going, and wasn't in a hurry to get there.

"Depends on what?"

"On whether or not you come with us."

"Ah."

---

Chandry was dominated by a sophisticated and well-maintained fortress nestled atop what once may have been a grassy hill. It loomed in the manner of all civic building of authority, the promise of violence and protection projected equally to the roiling masses in its shadow. The town's past prosperity had propelled it beyond the boundaries of the initial Motte and Bailey of its founding, but the skeleton remained.

Rhix and Narva were walked through its gates, across its grounds, and towards the stone keep. They were not brought into it, but rather around it, where a colorful garden hugged the westerly wall. There were wooden awnings, benches, cobblestone pathways, and manicured grass. Tucked into a pleasant little cul-de-sac were a number of chairs around a whitewashed table.

Seated at the table was a man. His clothing spoke of wealth, his girth of comfortable living. His eyes flicked up, framed by a face wrinkled by sun and time. His eyes landed on Rhix's own, and he felt nearly cut by their sharpness. Rhix's tail coiled and snapped in a moment of unease.

"Ah," said the man, his white hair barely touched by what of the sun peeked around the leaves of the vines that clutched to the awning's shade. "The 'man' himself, and not looking too worse for wear. Come, sit down."

Rhix wordlessly accepted the invitation. The guards stepped away - though not too far away, Rhix noticed. Narva moved to occupy one of the chairs and Rhix snapped his fingers; catching her attention, he pointed to the cobblestones at his side. Narva gave him a smoldering look and moved to stand at the indicated spot.

Rhix looked up and caught the man peering at him hawkishly. Not a gesture seemed to go unnoticed. Rhix felt suddenly that it was possible he was being terminally rude. "Thank you, m'lord," he said, dutifully.

"A bit embarrassing, that this would be your first experience in Chandry," the man went on, amiably. There was a closed book sitting on the table; next to it, a wine glass, half full, with a bottle nearby. Rolled up scrolls occupied the far side of the table. "It would seem these times have driven certain men to desperation. Transients, you should know. The common folk are much more polite, but you get these sorts drifting through, now and again."

Rhix, who was keenly aware that he was a 'sort' who at that moment was in the process of 'drifting through', nodded. "Yes, m'lord."

The man's eyes turned to Narva and lingered on her a moment. The kobold squirmed a bit, but stood with her eyes cast to the side.

"Interesting company you keep," the man said. "Almost as interesting as the stories you've given. Are you merchants? Well-paid private guardsmen? Wagoneers? You've explored so many professions in so little time! It's nice to see that hard work and ingenuity isn't lost in these difficult times."

Rhix wondered if her could simply melt into the earth. He could almost feel the eyes of the guards on the back of his neck. He still had his knife. If he sprang forward and took this man hostage, how long would he last? A few minutes, maybe? "Ah, well," he said, and trailed off, hoping the man would simply barrel on ahead. He did not. Rhix met his eyes in mute panic. "Well," he went on, "you see, um."

He trailed off again. The man smiled, perhaps mournfully, and came to his rescue. "One man - or, sorry, one Shu - against four. Stiff odds, even for your kind. I suppose I needn't pry more from you. I think I have the measure. In need of money, are you?"

Rhix, and even Narva, perked up. The man grinned, perhaps to himself. "Thought you might. Wearing the same clothes you came in with. Unloading wagons for a handful of coins. And yet, opulent enough to parade your pet around the streets. Things can be quite dull here, you know. We're a vital breadbasket for many of the larger surrounding cities, but so rarely do the intrigues of the greater kingdoms find their way to me. A man falls to reading books," he patted the tome, "to exercise the mind. I suppose I should thank you; I do enjoy an enigma."

"We don't mean any trouble," Rhix said. "We're looking for an enchanter."

"Of course you are," the man replied, smoothly. "A pair like you, the imagination rejoices. I think we might be of service to one another."

---

The scrolls, Rhix learned, were maps. The maps were of a large farming plantation a mile or two away from the town. He'd learned that the town and the plantation had always had an agreement as pertained to the cost of goods, but that agreement had come under strain due to a lackluster harvest. Higher prices were being demanded. This, Rhix learned, was an unsatisfactory state of affairs.

"These here are grain silos," the man said, indicating with a thick, wrinkled finger to some hand-drawn markings on the crude map. "They are not to be touched. Your target is this, here. A smaller silo, filled with Barley. Put it to flame. This is delicate work in need of professionals. My men are loyal enough, but not a man jack one of them has the necessary skills."

The man - Rhix assumed the Baron, Chandry seemed a bit small for a Duke - seemed to catch Rhix's bemused expression. "It's for ale," the baron went on, "and quite valuable, though not much good for eating as it is. I think it will send the appropriate message," he added, with a shark's grin, "that base mercantile concerns ought be secondary to one's civic duties. Ha ha."

"Ha ha," Rhix had agreed with a glassy smile. They discussed compensation. A bit of money, a horse, and a lead on where they might find a talented enchanter. Then they were dismissed.

He and Narva now stood, a few paces away from their armed escort, in an armory. From observation alone Rhix suspected there were two armories, and that he was looking at the one reserved for hirelings and trainees. His finger trailed down a blade, bouncing off chips and bits of rust as it went.

A movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention to Narva, who was inspecting a short blade. "What do you think you're doing?"

Narva looked at him. She looked at the three foot blade in her hands, and then back at him. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"I'm not arming you," he said.

Narva gave him one of her infuriating little smiles. It wasn't that she was happy, it was that she'd seen an opportunity to wheedle him. "Why not, master?" she asked, innocently.

Because his mouth often ran out in front of his brain, Rhix began, "Because I don't want you to-" He stopped himself. He couldn't say, '- use it against me'. They both knew she couldn't do that. And he couldn't say, 'because you're not coming', because of course she was going to have to. In fact, he realized, that it put him in a difficult spot. He could not, through action or inaction, allow her to be killed. It was one of the rules. She'd have to be near him, and there was the very real risk of pitched combat.

Her little smile only got more smug. Rhix could not find any avenue of escape and merely hissed, "Alright."

"You can be taught," Narva remarked, turning back to the weapons.

"Remarks like that are going to cost you," he snarled at her, snapping his tail.

"I can't imagine what you could threaten me with you haven't already done," she countered, but it was Rhix's turn to grin, even if it was at the back of her neck. He was keeping a tally. She'd find out, soon enough.

Weapons were not hard to secure. Rhix took up a longsword, a 'hanger' short sword for up-close work, as well as a precision hunting crossbow and a bag of bolts. Narva secured for herself a straight-bladed short sword and twin thin daggers, each about nine inches long.

Armor was a little more difficult to arrange. Rhix, who already had his chain shirt, couldn't find anything for either of them that would accommodate their unique lower physiology. Narva managed to find a chain shirt that had seen better days, and had clearly been intended for a youth. This left her nude from the waist down, which Rhix considered a plus until Narva rather accurately pointed out would present a tempting target for any opponent.

Thus were they granted a little seed money, used to purchase some children's leather riding breeches, and a little more to pay a tailor to make the necessary accommodations for the tail. (Most tailors train themselves in such modifications; whatever their racial feelings, where there is a market, there is money to be made).

Thus armed and garbed, they were off.

---

Rhix and Narva had crawled a hundred yards or more through thick forest undergrowth as they approached the plantation from the north. Not only was the estate bordered by thick forest from that direction, but it also provided the best angle from which to assault the silos. It was coming on dusk by the time the two of them had low-crawled their way to within sight of the estate. Dimly, they could see figures walking about, from a distance.

"And now, to wait for nightfall," Rhix muttered. They could likely talk safely at a low murmur. Anyone with any real world experience knew that the sound of whispering carried like the devil in the open air, but low murmuring was nearly indistinguishable. Unless the parties were separated by a wall, whereupon the reverse was true.

Narva lay on her belly. She did not speak. Her eyes tracked the movements of the men in the distance and studied the grounds while they still had the faint daylight.

Rhix wasn't doing anything quite so tactical. He was staring at her. Namely, the way her body curved when she lay like that. It was a mad thought, but he could not deny that her body was all the more alluring when she was clothed. It was all good fun, and dreadfully erotic, to strip her naked and parade her about in public. But there was something about the denial that aroused him. It wasn't so much erotic as it was desirous, and it captivated him.

"You should know I plan to sell you," he said, finally.

Narva glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "That so?"

"When we get that collar off. I'm just going to put another one on, sell you off. I imagine I'll be bored of you then, and you'll be worth quite a bit. Former mercenary, strong body, fluent common. Tight little holes, if that sort of thing interests them."

Narva wasn't listening. She clenched her jaw and focused on the plantation.

"No? Nothing to say?" Rhix asked.

"What do you expect this cunt to say, master?"

"Not sure," Rhix admitted, eyes roaming down the curve of her back, over that thick brown-scaled tail. "Something snide, maybe. Wouldn't mind for you to start begging at some point."

"Never," she hissed.

"You say that," Rhix crooned, "but you never know what tomorrow might bring." He thought for a moment, and then he smirked. "Slowly become sexually aroused, for me."

Narva tensed, and the sharp intake of breath delighted Rhix to his core. She looked over at him, her eyes narrowing. "What's this?" she hissed. "More jealousy? The chief making this cunt cum must have really bothered you."

Rhix saw no point in lying. "I wouldn't say bother, so much as surprised. You liked something about him. Something that made your little cunny sing."

Narva looked away. Rhix's eyes tracked a slight movement of her tail, over her clenching, covered buttocks. "Fuck you," she uttered.

"What was it?" Rhix asked, amused. "You liked something about him. Answer my question."

"I don't want to tell you, master."

"Aha. I can order you to answer, but not what. But you also can't lie. And you don't deny it. Answer."

"Shut up."

"You may no longer demand my silence," Rhix hissed. "Answer: what was it you liked about him?"

"This cunt doesn't know, okay?" she said, testily. "It was just something about him. He was dominant and controlling-" Narva suddenly shut herself up.

Too late. Rhix's eyes were dinner plates. "You're a submissive."

"I've never thought about it," Narva said. Rhix felt an electric thrill. It was like combat. Thrust, parry, riposte. He had the better weapon, the better ground. He could disarm her, maneuver more easily, but she had a scrappy sort of ingenuity. Then, a thought suddenly struck him. He spotted an opening.

"You will answer my questions," he said, slowly, "with a single-... no, you'd just say 'a single word' every time."

Narva grinned, a little, but he could see her squirming. A hand she thought was hidden adjusted her clothing a bit, and he caught a whiff of a heady scent. She sneered at him. "You don't have the vocabulary, give it up."

Rhix wracked his brain. "Mono-wordly?" Her snort told him that wasn't it. He knew mono meant one. He needed another word, for words. It tickled his brain. Not syllabic, not-

He nearly shot sitting straight up. "You will answer," he said, eyes flashing, "monolexically."

Narva whipped her head around to stare at him. "How do you-?"

"You bodyguard enough mages and scholars, you pick up a thing or two," Rhix remarked, feeling as good about himself as he'd ever done. Somehow this was better than all the times he'd fucked her. That'd been easy, even free of effort. This was perhaps the first time he'd ever beaten her. It felt good.

"You will answer my questions monolexically," he said, smugly, knowing he had her. One word answers to affirmative or negative questions where she couldn't lie left her nearly no room at all. He opted not to give her any time to think.

"Do you masturbate?" he asked.

Stunned, Narva answered, "Yes." She seemed shocked at her own answer, and squirmed. Rhix knew he had her staggered.

"Do you think about males when you masturbate?"

"Yes."

Rhix nearly bounced, his tail flicking merrily as Narva squirmed, hiding her face.

"On your back or on your front?"

"Front."

"What species is the male?"

"Kobold."

"All the time?"

"No."

"What is the next most common?"

"Shu."

Rhix pumped his fist and Narva groaned. "Master, please st-"

"When you lift your tail, you like to be fucked from behind, don't you?"

"Yes," Narva replied, miserably. Rhix knew that if she had time, maybe she'd think of a weasel word or a way out of the line of questioning. He gave her no space.

"Would you masturbate more than once a week?"

"Yes."

"Ever fantasize about being tied up?"

"Yes."

"Ever fantasize about being raped?"

The word escaped Narva's mouth with torturous strain. "Yes."

She was nearly curled completely into a fetal position, facing away from him. Rhix mind buzzed with the information.

"Are you afraid you may grow to enjoy this?"

"No."

And just like that, an anvil smashed into the center of his parade. Rhix frowned, and took a moment.

"Why?"

"Hate."

"Ah." Rhix nodded. It stood to reason. But then again, 'enjoy' was a broad term.

"Roll back to laying flat on your belly." Rhix watched the kobold obey, the chain shirt shifting, the weapons clicking softly as they adjusted on her belt. He put his hand on her back and stroked it down the outer fabric. "Not enjoy," he said, smirking, "I get it. You hate me, I enslaved and humiliated you. But there's a dark part of you that always fantasized about being held down and fucked by a strong male, and you think about Shu sometimes when your round little ass is up in the air, diddling your clit and thinking of being roughly taken," the thought slid into place and he smirked, "by big, strong, tribal Shu alphas. And he fucked a happy little orgasm out of this tight, feisty little kobold body," he breathed, his hand sliding over her clenching rump.

He had a sudden urge. It was not the first time the thought had teased his mind, but smelling her arousal as he was now, it grew loud enough to be heard by his higher functions. Breed her. He snorted, softly. Right. An erotic thought, but, certain incompatibilities stood in the way.

Not that trying in vain was off the table.

"Rhix," she said, in a weak and vulnerable voice.

"Grow more aroused," he commanded her, and this time she squeaked, her toes clenching, her legs pressing together.

"Any more," she said, in a tone of warning, "and it will start to hurt, master."

"So?"

"So," she said, breathless, looking over her shoulder as his hand roamed her backside. "Don't you want this cunt to enjoy this?"

That gave him pause. She had a point. Even he had to admit that for all that she would likely want to flay him alive, a part of him balked at the idea of, well... of hurting her. Obviously rape and enslavement was harm, yes, of course, obviously. But he didn't...

She must have caught the look in his eye. "There's something wrong with you," she said, hatefully.

"Eyes on the farm, slave," he said.

She obeyed. Her words had stung a little, if only for their accuracy. Now that he'd claimed her, conquered her, there but remained only one thing she denied him before he could claim total conquest. Not her womb, clearly, as their species weren't compatible in that way, but rather, her affections.

But maybe with training...

His fingers slid to her front, and she obediently lifted her hips to accommodate. She reeked of her heady scent. Likely evolutionarily engineered to drive kobold males wild, to him it was just a thick, somewhat sweet, somewhat musky odor. "Feeling horny?" he asked, as he undid her belt. "Respond, as before."

"Y-yes."

"Punctuate all answers in this way with 'Master," he breathed, sliding himself over her body. "Feeling needy?"

"N-no, master," she squeaked, as he opened the front of her pants. He considered this. No, she wouldn't need him, would she? Needed to be more specific.

"Feeling needful for an orgasm?"

"Yes, master," she hissed, hiding her face once again.

"I said to keep watch," he snarled, softly, and she snapped to attention. "Lift that tail, girl." She obeyed, her tail arching up and over to the side. A waft of her scent hit him full in the face. Gods, maybe he did overdo it. Ah, well. In for a penny.

He pulled her pants down, over the swell of her ass, down to her mid-thighs. He could just barely see the lips of her sex. They glistened, even in the faint light. They looked more swollen, and he could even see a hint of pink. He'd inspected her intimately, not a couple days ago, and knew what those inner walls looked like, but now she looked more flushed, more red, and she was positively oozing fluid.

He spread her ass with one hand to get a better look, breathing deeply. She was breathing heavily, too. One could almost imagine they were impassioned lovers. And why shouldn't he imagine it? She was a slave. She did what he wanted, and if she was a warm hole and a pliant actor in his little fantasy, she had to obey.

He worked to free his erection from his pants. He was rock-hard and ready. Fabric slipped over his hips, the cool evening air gracing his own backside, his cock bobbing sharply up, arched and ready. "When I fuck you," he said, grinding his cock into the valley of her firm, beautiful ass, "you are going to masturbate. Try not to make much noise, but if you cum, you will politely thank your master, understand? Respond."

Narva whimpered. "Y-yes, mast-rrrnnnh!"

Rhix hadn't bothered to wait. Mounted on her back, hunched low so as to hopefully avoid being spotted, he'd slotted himself into her tight little kobold tunnel. The experience was utterly different from the last two times he'd claimed her sex. Despite her tight confines, he slid in easily, and this time with an audible noise of wet flesh parting to accept something too big into a hole too small.

From over her, he spotted her hand drift under her belly. Deep inside, as his tip kissed her cervix, he felt her clench up. The kobold gasped, her tail writhing a bit, hips arching. "Good girl," he hissed.

Legs splayed a bit on either side of her own, one hand holding her shoulder and the other pressed to the soft ground, he started to thrust. Not with his signature, brutal, deep lunges; rather, with the slowly, languid, lazy style he imagined she might envision in her mind. His own mind was afire with wonder. What did it look like, when she pleasured herself? He thrust in, hips clapping her cheeks and making her squeak softly.

"Do you masturbate fully nude?"

"Mostly, master," she answered, strained. She struggled to watch the farm, as she'd been ordered, all while her fingers danced on her own clit. He arched his back, eyes closed, imagining her naked body arched alone in her room. Tail up, clenching tailhole and moistened cunny fully exposed to the empty room, but not to her imagined suitors.

"Are these fantasy males gentle with you?"

"S-sometimes... nh!... master..."

"Was your mouth virgin when I found you?"

"No, master."

He thrust in hard, and she moaned, though she tried not to. He had to make the same effort. "How many cocks did you suck before mine?"

"Three, master..."

"And how many cocks fucked this tight little cunt before I claimed it?"

"Two, master."

"Kobolds?"

"Yes, master."

He was thrusting a little more firmly, now. He tried to keep the motions fluid, grinding his hips rather than pounding her. If nothing else it kept the noise down. A sudden tightening around his member surprised him, and he paused in his thrusting to look down at the shivering form pinned underneath him.

In a small voice, she gasped, "Th-thank you, m-master."

Rhix grinned. Narva glanced at him over her shoulder and glared. She didn't need to say it; he knew it was still cheap. Perhaps only one step removed from simply ordering her to cum. But, an orgasm was an orgasm all the same.

A soft wet noise accompanied his resumed thrusting. He ground his hips down into her, trying to work just a little more of his length into her tight tunnel, but she simply could not take him all. "I know," he hissed, directly into her ear. "You don't need to say it. But the thing is, slave," he said, licking her up the side of her face, "is that I'm happy getting it cheap."

Narva gasped, sharply, as he thrust himself in a little harder than before. "Shh," he admonished. "Don't want to wake the neighbors." She made a soft, strangled, lightly feminine noise in the back of her throat. He nosed the top of her head, grunting softly as he took her with slow, long strokes. If only she could take him all the way. What he wouldn't give to feel his balls clap against the spread lips of her sweet cunny. Now and then he would seek it, accidentally, and she would make a sudden noise of discomfort, the spongy head of his cock testing the firmness of her cervix.

He could almost pretend that he was not simply fucking his slave girl. There, out in the woods and unseen, rutting her with languid strokes of his hips, he could almost imagine they were mating. He supposed that to an objective and cosmic observer, it would be utterly indistinguishable. To one unfamiliar with their relationship, her sudden tensing up, and the squirt of her fluids across his balls and the backs of her thighs, accompanied by her softly quavering, "Thank you... master...", the act might seem as though between two tender lovers.

Though nothing could be further from the truth, it was nice to imagine. He propped himself up so he could look down at her, to where his cock, glistening and even dripping with her lubricant, would slide effortlessly back into the warm tightness of her feminine embrace. Noisily spreading her scaly lips and stretching her smooth, wet walls around him. Even now, they shuddered and clenched with that second orgasm. Her fingers worked her clitoris, promising a third, and perhaps more.

It took a massive amount of willpower on his part not to ravish her with all he had. He indulged in a faster pace, gripping her hip with one hand, spreading his legs to brace himself, grunting into sharp, deep lunges into her pussy. Her other hand grabbed a fistful of earth; twigs and dirt and dried leaves. Her mouth was open in a silent cry, and she arched beneath him. Her vagina tightened, moreso than ever before. Then it clenched, and clenched, and she jetted warm spurts of her feminine cum over him. "Thank you!" she hissed, trying to keep her voice down. "Master!"

He sped up. Now he was fucking her. He grunted with the discomfort of the position. Darkness was falling; he could risk it. He grabbed her by the hips, thrust in as deep as he could, and pulled her up. She went up on her knees, still cumming, and he pressed her face to the ground. Thus positioned face down and ass up, he gripped her hips in both hands and fucked her. He could see in the distance men walking, some of them with torches, but there was no sense of alarm, nobody approaching.

They were simply two beasts in the woods, hidden by the treeline, fucking as nature intended.

"Ah! Nh! Anngh!" Rhix grunted, clenching his teeth to stifle a more exuberant cry. His tail flagged, and he came inside her. He thrust in deep, slapping a hand on her back to stroke her, his other gripping her hip. His cock pulsed, the tip thrust against her barrier so he could spurt virile ropes of Shu seed directly into her eggchamber. His tail flagged, flagged, flagged in time with his ejaculating pulses, until they slowed to a dribble. Foggy white seed oozed from around their tight union and dripped down the inside of her thigh.

Slowing to a stop, he eased himself back down on top of her, flattening her once again to the forest floor. "You may stop masturbating," he breathed, grinding himself inside her. "Enjoy the afterglow."

He felt a tension go out of her as her body ceased the enforced arousal. However, though the wave machine may stop its motions, the water would still slosh about on its own until the inertia is well and truly spent. So, too, did her body need time to come down off the sexual high, and the two of them lay like that, male on top of female, male inside female, until his erection receded such that he slipped from her tight folds, and rolled to his back.

They were both breathing heavily. Distantly, he was aware of her slowly, shamefully, pulling her pants back up. He did not stop her. He eventually pulled his back up as well, and re-did his belt.

It was funny. There was an almost mutual sense of embarrassment. Rhix looked at her; she was looking at him, though her eyes cast to the side quickly.

"Narva-" he said.

"We have work to do," she replied. "You're on the crossbow?"

Rhix felt like a moment had come and gone, never to return. "Oh," he said. "Yes."

---

Farms, even prosperous farms, could not as a rule afford highly trained mercenaries. There simply were not the excess funds to go around. Unlike governments, farms have to produce something, which cuts into profits. Farmhands, however, come cheap, generally feature as strong young men, and a sword or crossbow in the hands of a strong young man has a value in and of itself.

The problem was that strong young men with swords and crossbows are only as good as their training. Arrayed against, say, hungry peasants looking to thieve, or your average itinerant goblin, a farmhand with a sword is a suitable deterrent. Against highly trained and battle hardened mercenaries, they may as well have been scarecrows.

One thing Rhix had learned in his many years on campaign that making a plan more complex only provides opportunity for it to fail. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, and if brute force didn't work, it's only because you didn't have enough.

Thus did their 'plan' work out beautifully. Narva's body was nearly a blur, low to the ground, her strong legs churning, and yet her footfalls light and nearly imperceptible. She streaked through the tall grass towards the two men. Both were holding small torches, one had a crossbow resting against his shoulder, the other his hand resting on the hilt of a sword secured in its scabbard. Untrained, unsuspecting violence, they may as well of been baby ducks for all their military threat.

Narva launched into a running leap at the same moment that Rhix emerged into the torchlight, crossbow at the ready. There was a twang, a 'thwip' of the bolt hissing through the air, a flash of steel in Narva's hands. She collided with the chest of the first man, plunging her blade deep and following his body down to the ground, landing atop it. The bolt took the other man in the chest, through the heart; he collapsed, dead before he hit the ground.

Narva drew the blade free and grimaced. Young men. Poor saps. Rhix strode up to her, stamping out one of the torches before they could catch on the grass. The other he secured, but held low. "It's sexier than I thought it'd be," he remarked, smirking. "Watching you work knowing me seed's sloshing around in that eggmaker of yours."

"You're gross," Narva said, wiping the blade clean. "And weird."

"Let's go make me gross, weird, and rich," he said, striding towards the silo.

"It's not that much money," Narva countered.

"Maybe not," Rhix agreed, "but compared to what we've got now?"

There was no arguing that.

Later, Rhix and Narva were back by the treeline. The small bundle they'd left to burn at the base of the silo had finally reached the structure, and the night was glowing brilliantly in the distance with the growing inferno. Bells were ringing and men were running about, forming a bucket line to the well, but it was hopeless. Rhix looked down at Narva, the fire dancing in her eyes.

"No hesitation," he remarked.

"Huh?" she asked, absently.

"You didn't hesitate. Not even for a second. I'm not sure why I expected you to."

"Because this cunt is a female?" she asked, looking up at him. "Or a kobold? You don't respect me, master, that's why."

Rhix watched her a moment. "You're a dangerous little thing, aren't you?"

Narva lowered her eyes back to the distant fire. "You have no idea," she hissed. "But you may find out soon, master."

Rhix fought a chill down his spine. "Come on," he grumbled. "Our man is waiting."

---

The man was waiting. The agreed-upon rendezvous point was a small grassy hillock, north and west of Chandry as well as the farm, where an orange glow could still be seen. The hour was very late by the time Rhix and Narva drew up, tired from the walk, and other things.

The man - a bursar for the baron, Rhix assumed - gave them a waxen smile. "As agreed," he said, tossing them a small bag that, when caught, chimed merrily with the promise of a rosier financial future. He dropped the reigns of the other horse; at a nod from Rhix, Narva approached and took them into her hand. Even an amateur equestrian could tell this was not one of their most prized animals, but to Rhix's sore feet, it was the noblest charger of a king.

"Just the one horse?" Rhix asked.

The man frowned a little. "That was what was agreed," he said.

"Just the one horse?" Rhix asked again.

The man stared at him. "I don't-"

Rhix leveled the crossbow with the casual posture of one for whom its operation is second nature. "Just the one horse?" he asked, with a glacier's patience.

The man quavered a moment. He looked at Narva, who stared back at him with a blank expression. "Why are you looking at me?" she asked. "I already have a horse."

He looked back at Rhix. "You scum-"

"Ah," Rhix said, making a show of adjusting the crossbow. "Ah."

The man clammed up. Then, morosely, he swung himself off the back of the horse and landed on the ground, stepping back one pace, his eye on the weapon. "The baron will be unhappy."

Rhix laughed. "The baron is about to make back ten times what he's spent," Rhix remarked, cheerfully. "This little bag," he jangled it, "and that little nag, for the take he's about to get? He can spare the extra horse. He's welcome to send men after us if he likes, but it'll cost him more than just buying another horse. Now fuck off."

The man, grumbling, fucked off.

Rhix swung himself into the newly available saddle. He watched, impressed, as Narva did the same. "You and me make a good team."

"You and I," Narva corrected him. "Enjoy it while it lasts. When this is all over, I'm going to kill you."

Rhix sighed. "Is it Thursday already? Come on. We've got a ways to go, yet."

They spurred the horses into a gallop, putting the warm glow of the farm, and the twinkling lights of Chandry, behind them.