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Malika Rides the Bull	By : LadySummerisle Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 9572 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Inquisition, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
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   “It’s good you asked for this today, Kadan.” said Iron Bull. He had Malika on his lap and was gently massaging her neck and scalp. It was a ritual he performed often, especially after a rough day or when he was planning on a particularly rough night. It was soothing, but she knew she needed a heftier distraction.
   “Why is that?” she asked, then sighed has he tugged on a fist full of hair, sending shivers down her spine,
   “I might have been working with our Quartermaster on a few things...and we just finished them.” the satisfaction in his voice was audible. Malika laughed.
   “Now I know why he’s been giving me those looks for the past month...Hang this defeating Corypheus nonsense, if anyone in this blighted castle doesn’t know what we’re up to, that’s the real miracle.”
   “It gives them something to talk about...plus, you enjoy them knowing. You like them thinking about us...how we work...wondering how I fit inside you…” as he spoke, his hand traveled to the front of her neck and held it firmly in place. That simple gesture was her weakness.
   “Are you ready, Kadan?”
   “Yes.”
   He stood her up and urged her towards the small closet next to the stairs. She hesitated and turned to give him a confused look,
   “Trust me, Kadan.”
She did. She was taken aback when they entered the small room. It was dim, lit only by a single candle. There was a tall stool, a table full of mystery objects under a red sheet, and hanging from the rafters...ropes. She felt a jolt in her stomach. This was new.
   Without warning, Bull lifted her up onto the stool. He came around to face her, took one of her arms and began to wrap the rope in a tight, intricate pattern, starting almost at her elbow,
   “Let me know if this is too tight and if it hurts.” he said as he tied, “I know you said to keep going even if you tell me to stop, and I will...but you remember your watchword. Say stop all you like, but if you really mean it, what do you say?”
   “Katoh.” she said obediently. He stopped tying the rope,
   “Do you mean that?”
   “No.”
   “Good.” He smiled as he finished one arm and went on to the next one. Malika appreciated being upright for once with his face so close to hers. She couldn’t help but sneak in a kiss or two while he worked. When he finished, he walked away and she heard him take something from the table. He came back and held up a silky piece of fabric with what looked like a mask attached to it...a blindfold.
   “Tonight,” he said as he lifted it to her face, “I’ll be in control of everything.”
   The padded mask came up to her eyes and blocked out the light completely, concentrating her senses on Iron Bull’s voice and the feeling of his hands fastening the blindfold behind her head,
   “Everything you see...everything you feel...everything you do. You ready?”
   Malika was trembling, feeling cold, naked and vulnerable. Shakily, she found her voice,
   “Please.” she said.
   Iron Bull put his arm around her and held her close while he kicked the stool out from under her, then let go slowly, allowing her arms to adjust to the feeling of suspension. He stepped back and she swung gently in place, her shoulders stretching with the weight of her body. The intense wrappings on her forearms did their job well; they held her firmly, but not too tight. Her hands still tried to clasp at the rope attached to the ceiling, but that was more for mental comfort than physical.
   “How does that feel, Inquisitor?” said Iron Bull while he caressed her with feather-light touches.
   “Strange...scary…” her voice was breathy, wavering, unlike herself.
   Bull slid his hand between her thighs to feel her wet core, “Scary, but I think you like it, don’t you, little girl?”
   “Yes, Iron Bull.”
   He played with her as she hung, rubbing her clit and sliding a finger inside, but then he stopped abruptly and went back to the table. When he returned, he slipped his hand back between her legs. It was slicked with oil. He focused his attention towards her rear, circling her tight pucker, then easing a finger inside. She moaned as she adjusted around it and he went to work, thrusting it in and out at a snail’s pace. Malika shuddered in her restraints. Hanging loosely in the air while he toyed with her felt alien and wrong. She had no control...but that was the point, she supposed. She had learned to trust his hand at her throat, she had learned to trust his choice of additional sexual partners, and she would learn to trust this feeling of complete surrender. As long as he was with her, she was safe.
   Bull slipped in a second digit and Malika let out a high pitch squeal. He brought his hand to her mouth, holding her to him while he continued to push his fingers in deeper. She pulsed and tightened uncomfortably around the intrusion, but felt relief being held close to his solid form.
   “Do you want me to stop, Inquisitor?” he growled into her ear. She shook her head.
“Good.” He thrust his fingers in and out a few more times, then withdrew, leaving her dangling alone again. When he came back, he wrapped an arm around her, holding her still as he placed something at her hind entrance.
The object pushed into her and its shape became clear. It had a pointed tip that penetrated her with ease, but became wider the further in it went. Bull held her close as he pushed, pulled and twisted it into her. At first, it felt good. The toy had slightly more girth than his fingers, but it was smooth and round, she allowed herself to relax against it until the toy bulged and curved. She hummed uneasily, but Bull kept going at a slow, steady pace. Pulling out ever so slightly before pushing in more. She squeaked as she felt the widest point push past her barrier and sink into her accepting hole. Bull laughed behind her ear.
“Good girl. Now, don’t let that thing fall out...” He walked around and put his face to hers, “Or I might stop being so nice.” There was a tinge of meanness in his voice that set Malika’s heart on fire. She searched for his lips greedily, finally finding and kissing them with a wantonly open mouth. His tongue lapped back at her while he kept his hand on the toy nestled inside, poking and twisting it. He left her lips, licking and biting down her neck. Regardless of how rough he intended to be, Bull could never resist the temptations of her body. He could start impersonal and nasty, but unless they went straight to intercourse, he found himself faltering, kissing her, burying his face in her breasts. His head fell there now. They seemed to have grown in the last month or so. She had never been skinny; her body was short, but satisfyingly thick with muscle and a perfect layer of fat, filling out her curves. She was bottom heavy, but her breasts were small and perky. Bull couldn’t complain, their diminutive size allowed her to forgo any breast binding and made them temptingly easy to access at any time.
It made sense that without missions to complete, fights to be had, traveling and living mostly off of soldiers’ rations, she would begin to put on some weight, and the Iron Bull enjoyed it. He kissed her, starting from her breast bone, traveling down to her nipple that he licked and bit. Malika inhaled sharply through her teeth and exhaled a high pitched mewl. He opened his mouth and looked at her face. She was grimacing,
“Did that hurt, Kadan? I didn’t bite you very hard.”
She nodded,
“How bad?” He licked his thumb then lifted it to her breast, running it gently over the peak. She gasped again, but it was softer this time. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger and she whined,
“It’s…” she took a deep breath, “It’s ok. I’m ok.”
“Good.” he said, taking her other breast in his mouth while he continued to pull and squeeze. She whimpered and tensed, she was agonizingly tender. Although his ministrations were far lighter than normal, each nip of his teeth or press of his hand caused blunt, aching pain. He hooked an arm around her thigh and rubbed her throbbing clit, making her shake and kick as the sensations overtook her. Her awareness bounced between the dull pain in her breasts, the sting of his fingers sliding roughly over her hyper-sensitive clit and the fullness of her ass. It seemed the excitement had upset the toy and it was now trying to inch its way out; she could feel herself stretching to accommodate it. She tried desperately to clench down and hold it in, but an orgasm was building. She had to choose: either tighten up and focus or let herself go and risk the punishment...but who was she kidding? It was the punishment she craved. On any other night she would comply, try her hardest to do as he asked--whatever he asked--but not tonight. She grinded into his hand and he pressed into her hard. She was at the brink of release when she felt the plug slide out and land with a clink on the floor.
Bull immediately stopped his petting and instead placed his fingers at her back entrance.
“Naughty girl…” he said, letting his two fingers penetrate her with ease, “Can’t keep that little plug in?”
“I’m sorry…” she said, still breathing heavily. Her hips were still twitching, aching for release; she clenched down around his fingers and he growled.
“You’ll have to prove to me how sorry you are.”
Bull pulled out and went back to the table. When he returned he held something up to Malika’s lips. It was hard, smooth and cold. Another toy.
“Open your mouth.” he said, and she obliged. The toy slipped past her lips, it was the same shape as the other one, but larger. She gagged as it neared her throat and the bulb of it was so wide she could just barely get it past her teeth. Bull slid it in and out a few more times before removing it,
“Do you know where this is going?” he asked. She wimpered and nodded. “Are you going to take it for me like a good girl?”
“Yes, Iron Bull” she said, but her words were more certain than she was. In a moment, he was behind her again, dripping more oil between her cheeks. He lined the toy up to her entrance and held her in place as he carefully pushed it inside. The beginning was easy like the first one, but it wasn’t long before it was stretching well beyond her comfort zone. She began to whine, huff and squirm in her restraints.
“Having a hard time, Inquisitor?” teased Iron Bull
“Uh-huh.” she responded, unable to form proper words. He pumped the toy in and out, letting it slide in further with every stroke,
“But you’re going to take this for me, right?”
She moaned, unable to decide on an answer. She wanted desperately to let him use her and fill her however and with whatever he wanted, but she wasn’t sure this was even possible. Her thoughts flashed back to the tent in Crestwood, the first time he ever dared try to fit himself inside her...how she sat atop his cock, nearly in tears about how it just wouldn’t fit...but then it did.
“I want to…”
“I think you can.” he said. He held her close to his body and she could feel his erection poking at her through his trousers, “It’s almost there.”
He brought his mouth to her ear so she could feel his hot breath while he teased her neck with his prickly stubble.
“Are you going to be a good little slut for me? Are you going to be the Iron Bull’s good little whore?”
She let out a low, guttural sound and nodded. He pushed in harder and she could feel as the thickest part of the plug as it begged for entry.
“Relax...relax,” Iron Bull repeated into her ear. Her eyes clenched tight behind the blindfold and she willed her body to release.
Malika cried long, loud wails as she felt it finally sink into her. It wasn’t exactly painful, but the feeling was overwhelming. She shook in his arms and he held her close while she adjusted,
“That’s a good girl…feel secure?” he asked, tapping on the base of the toy. She nodded.
“That’s good news for you…’cause if this one falls out…” his hardness grazed her thigh, “you’re going to be begging the Maker for mercy on that poor little ass of yours.”
Malika whined and Bull let go of her. A few moments later she felt the slightest tickle of leather thongs brushing against her back.
“Since you obviously can’t handle pleasure, let’s see how you take this.”
He swung flogger against her bottom. At first it was light, almost soothing. It crashed against her rhythmically and she appreciated the distraction from the twitching fullness in her rear. In time, the lashes came harder; he alternated between her back and her bottom, turning the tingle into a sting.
“You’re turning nice and red, Inquisitor, how does that feel for you?”
“Good…” she said, she tensed and released with each slap, anticipating the fall of the flogger and letting it hypnotize her. Bull’s force increased and she sighed at the new intensity. She could feel heat rise where he let the flogger land.
“You’re getting real good at taking this, Kadan…” said Bull, he came around and started to lightly flog at her still ultra-sensitive nipples. Her arms pulled at her restraints in a futile effort to shield herself from him, but in the end all she could do was whine as he let the it fall over and over.
“I think it might be time to move onto something a little more intense…” Malika couldn’t respond or think, she felt detached as the flogger wreaked havoc on her nipples, “Although, this is fun…” He laughed at her discomfort, watching her muscles flex with every drop of the flogger. He hit her with one last heavy smack that made her scream and pull her knees up towards her chest, then he retreated to the table.
Malika dangled alone, legs curled up and thighs clenched tightly together. With that last hit, the toy inside her had jostled and began to push back at her opening. She had thought for sure it wouldn’t budge until Bull pulled it out himself, but it appeared she was wrong. She thought about the warning he had given and whimpered aloud. The thought of him behind her, trying to force his massive phallus past that clenching ring of muscle...it was as terrifying as it was erotic...and the thought that he might succeed at this endeavor...She tightened up as much as she could. In spite of the strange excitement the idea brought her and in spite of her intense arousal--she could feel her wetness dripping thickly down her thighs--she couldn’t allow herself to relax. The plug would stay in if she could help it.
There was a sudden gust of wind on the back of her neck and she kicked her legs down. Iron Bull laughed. It happened again, only this time she felt something lightly brush through her hair. She hung rigid as thin, precise waves of cold crossed over her back accompanied by the slightest tickle of contact,
“Do you know what this is, Kadan?”
“N..no” she said uneasily. She tried to anticipate where the tickle would come next as the muscles in her bottom continued to flex, keeping everything in place.
Bull came around and pulled down her blindfold. Her eyes blurred and adjusted to the light that was thankfully quite dim. He stood before her holding a long, tubular piece of leather in his hands attached to a wooden handle. He gripped the handle in one hand pulled the length of leather through the other until he came to the end where the leather unraveled and came to a point. It looked like a flattened lily, but if she squinted it almost looked like--
“It’s called a ‘dragon’s tail’ whip.” he said. Malika couldn’t help it, she giggled, then stopped abruptly as the plug moved lower again. She clenched her cheeks and breathed deeply,
“That’s...the most you thing...I have ever heard of…” she said between breaths,
“I don’t disagree…” he said, still sliding the whip rhythmically through his fist. He walked around her, looking her up and down, “You’ve got beautiful skin, Kadan...I just want to take it in before I ruin it.”
She heard the whip whooshing through the air, but it didn’t make contact with her skin. A few more and she finally felt it hit against her bottom. It wasn’t too bad, just a slight sting. He repeated, switching spots he hit, alternating between her bottom and her upper back.
“I thought this was supposed to be more intense--hah!” just as the words left her lips, the whip struck her hard, it felt like the slice of a blade.
“What was that, Inquisitor?”
She groaned and another slap of the whip came down, just as biting as the last. It was different from the flogger. There was no rhythm, no slow build, just anticipation then pain.
“You’re getting some nice marks, Kadan.” he said, peppering his words with snaps of the whip for emphasis, “And they’re going to sting…for a while...whenever you sit...when you lie on your back...and don’t even try riding a mount.”
She squirmed as he spoke, attempting to bear the pain of the lash while she held the ever-slipping plug in place. It wasn’t working, it was slipping faster and faster.
“And I’m glad.” he continued, “I want you to think of me every time you feel them. Every time your clothes brush them the wrong way, when you’re sitting on them during a meeting...when your friend from Orzammar puts her arms around you again...I want you to feel them and remember who put them there...I want you to remember that you belong to the Iron.” snap “fucking” snap “Bull!”
The last one really did snap. There was a loud crack as it hit the flesh of her bottom and she screamed. She screamed so loud and the pain was so overwhelming that she didn’t even notice what had happened. She hung, shaking in her restraints and yelping like a wounded animal when the Iron Bull came into her field of vision, holding something in his hand. A polished wooden object in the shape of a spade, dripping with slick. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped,
“Start begging.”
She cursed as Bull tossed the toy to the floor and put his arm around her waist--an area that was thankfully free of welts from the dragon’s tail. He pulled a knife out from his belt and cut her down from the ceiling with ease. She wrapped her arms around him and he wasted no time. He grabbed the bottle of oil as they left the closet and when they reached the bed, he threw her down. Her back burned against the sheet and she arched up, crying out, but it didn’t help; the more she wriggled, the worse it stung. She brought herself up onto her elbows and folded her knees so it was only the unscathed small of her back resting on the bed.
At the edge of the bed, Bull was removing his clothes as he looked her over with a detached hunger. On any other night she would swoon at the sight, the darker places of her heart begging to be owned, posessed. Treated like no more than a toy, but tonight...it was all too real.
Her breath caught when his trousers dropped to the floor. It was a sight she had seen countless times, but never with this much trepidation. She watched as he took the bottle of oil and poured it directly onto himself then stroked his erection until it reflected the dim lamplight. In the past, she had begged wantonly--shamelessly--for his body, but as he approached this time she found herself crawling backwards, cringing as her newly formed lacerations brushed against the sheets. Bull grabbed her arms, pulling her toward the edge of the bed. She screeched and he pinned her by the neck,
“No, no, no, Inquisitor. You’re not getting away from me that easily.” he shoved two fingers into her cunt, “Fuck, you’re wet.”
He took his hand out and pried open her mouth,
“You taste that? You can’t pretend you don’t want it, Inquisitor. Admit it, you want this fat cock in that tight little ass of yours...only, it’s not so tight now, is it? Couldn’t even keep that plug in.”
She gagged and choked on his fingers until he took them out and slid them into her rear. She grasped the sheets as he pumped them in and out, finally adding a third and using it to stretch her further.
“Do you want it?” he asked as he twisted and separated his fingers. She couldn’t answer and only moaned in response, “Do you want it!?” he repeated impatiently, clamping his hand around her throat,
“N-no” she choked out in a panic.
“Well too damn bad.” he said. His hand left her throat, and wrapped around her leg, holding her in place. He used his other hand to guide his cock to her entrance. She felt herself give way little by little as he pushed in,
“P-p-please…” she said, tears running down her cheek, “I can’t--I’m sorry--I can’t!”
“You can and you will.” he growled and pushed his tip the rest of the way through.
She threw her head back, unable to stop herself from crying and screaming. He wasn’t rough, he had enough sense for that, but even with him going slow she was completely overwhelmed. The skin on her back stung and ached and although the penetration wasn’t painful, per se, it was deeply, deeply uncomfortable.
Her hands came up to her face and she hid behind them, letting out silent sobs. It was too much, it was all too much. Bull grabbed her hands and pulled them down to her sides, pinning them to the bed,
“Look at me, little bitch.” he ordered. She did and he was glaring at her with that same removed look as he fucked her deeper and deeper. No affection, no love, just lust and possession. She kept expecting--hoping--he would break. He always had in the past. He would go too hard, be too rough and without her having to ask, he would slow down, ask her if she was ok. Call her Kadan...but it wasn’t happening. For all her crying and screaming, he continued. He increased his pace, pulling her closer to him and pusing even deeper while he leaned over, pinning her down.
“I’m gonna come in that ass, Inquisitor. You like that?”
She couldn’t respond...if she could just wait a few more moments, it would all be over...but she couldn’t do that. He increased his pace, twitching and losing rhythm...he would finish soon, but she couldn’t wait that long. She needed to stop, she needed him back.
“Katoh!” she screamed, and felt Iron Bull’s body stiffen. He pushed back, taking his hands off her arms and forcing himself to withdraw, but it was too late to completely stop himself. He rutted up against the bed and spent himself over her thighs and crotch.
Bull watched her while he huffed and recovered. His face was completely changed, his mouth was agape and his eyebrow raised in concern. He slid his hand behind the small of her back and lifted her, guiding her down to the floor to sit on her knees in his lap, facing him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his chest while he held her close and stroked her hair with his clean hand,
“It’s ok, Kadan, it’s ok.” he whispered, “You’re safe, it’s over...Are you hurt? I mean, other than your back.”
She shook her head, never taking her face away from him. As scary as he had been only moments ago, he was equally comforting now. So warm and loving, being held by him was like coming home.
“Alright, Kadan, let’s fix you up.”
He stood up and guided her to the bed, letting her lay down on her stomach, then went to wash himself, bringing back a wet rag and a familiar jar of salve. Malika let herself relax completely as Bull washed her down, from her shoulders all the way down between her legs where he wiped away his spend. He then rubbed her down with large dollops of salve as they talked about what happened. What went wrong, what went right. Once the most important issues were out of the way, Malika remembered something,
“That thing you said...about my friend from Orzammar…”
“I’m sorry,” said Bull before she could finish, “Did I go over the line?”
“No, not really, but...are you ok with her being here?”
He paused for a moment,
“Yeah, Kadan...yeah, I’m fine.”
“‘Cause you’re not acting like you’re fine.”
“I don’t know…” he said, averting his eye, “I’ve fucked a lot of people, Kadan, but this...this is all new to me. She loved you--she still does. I could tell just by seeing you together once, and I know what that feels like. I love you...but she knows what it’s like to lose you, and that...that’s something I never want to feel. I don’t even want to think about it.”
Malika reached out to put a hand on his cheek, pulling herself to him for a lingering kiss,
“You’ll never have to.” she said.
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Malika Rides the Bull