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The Inquisitor's Diversions	By : Komandr Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 13679 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age, Dragon Age Inquisition, or any of the characters thereof. No profit is being made from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Inquisitor's Diversions
- 2-Of Iron
- 1
- 2
Thank you to Bees for the wonderful, wonderful review! I haven't gotten any vehement flames, so I'm going to assume the consensus is "not awful" and keep going.
Kinks here include size difference and dirty talk. Things that might be of concern involve a sentence of very, very fake "non-con" dialogue and a sort-of chase scene.
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It's been a month. It has been the longest damn month of her life. Nobody has taken her up on her offers!
Well, that's a lie. She's gotten offers from people and turned them down. Some of them were clearly just wanting to take her down a peg, or thought she was just another knife-ear, or. . .well, she was trying to be a -little- discreet. Heralds of prophets generally didn't go around doing whoever came to them.
Solas, Cassandra, Varric, Cullen, and all the others -- she'd all but marched up to them and asked them to fuck her senseless. Even the newest arrivals weren't very accommodating.
The Warden was grizzled, but seasoned, and mm, she did love experienced men. But her sly overtures and roaming hands didn't seem to mean a thing to him.
Sera was -- odd. She was still trying to get a handle on her before she asked for sex. But she would. Oh, she would. The little waif of a city elven girl would be just as much a tempest in bed as on the battlefield.
Vivienne -- ha! While the other woman is stunning, and Elanna is sure the mage would recognize it as mutually beneficial, that's not a beehive she wants to shoot. At all. Well, maybe a little. . .but there's not nearly enough alcohol in the world for her to think it possible.
Which is why she set up her tent as far away from the rest of camp as she can tonight. They're on the way back from the Storm Coast, picking up a friendly mercenary company. There's more than one makes her -want-, but she doesn't move that fast. (Usually.) . . .but it's all a moot point right now. Her own deft hands and a little set of knives have whittled a proper wooden cock. Tonight's the first chance she'll get to use it.
Well, at least she hopes she will, but she can't get away from the campfire. Iron Bull offered to take first watch, and he's been telling her stories ever since the others went to bed. Right now they're discussing the differences in Qunari and non-Qunari day-to-day life. It's fascinating, but. . .she's so horny it almost hurts. Somehow, she still manages to carry on a conversation.
"So what happens if someone's spouse goes Tal-Vashoth?" she asks, leaning forward and trying to focus on her words instead of how -- well. No. Don't think about it.
Bull laughs, the sound a low rumble that goes to places it shouldn't. "Marriage doesn't exist in the Qun."
That jolts her right out of her lust-induced haze. "What?" And despite the fact SHE certainly doesn't think marriage is a necessary prerequisite for sex, her next words are, "Does that mean no sex?!"
This time, his laugh might well wake the camp. "Of course not! That's what tamassrans are for."
"Tam -- what?" She narrows her eyes. "Are you having me on?"
"Tamassrans, little Herald. They take care of what you need. Like popping a cork. Sometimes it's this huge undertaking, takes a day and a half, leaves you sore. . .and sometimes it's not." He clicks his tongue twice. "Hello, goodbye, have a nice day."
She sees an opportunity. She takes it, despite promising herself she wouldn't move TOO fast. "That sounds wonderful," she purrs. "Popping corks. . ..mm." And she's not lying. It does sound wonderful.To have your duty be sucking cocks, whipping, touching. . . More dampness pools between her legs. She can't help it.
Bull leans forward, his eye visibly darkening in the firelight. "Sounds like someone's a bit pressurized, Boss." His voice drops even lower on the register, something she didn't think possible. "I can help with that."
Fuck. Yes. "Can you now?" she moves to stand, thinking to sit beside him -- but no. He's on watch. But first watch is nearly over. . . "You'll have to catch me first." And with that, the lithe little rogue sprints away. They're on the border of Crestwood, just south of the Storm Coast. Plenty of trees, rocks, and wonderful hiding spaces. If she's going to cave a day and a half after meeting him, she's going to make him work for it.
So Ellana creeps through the woods. Little signs are left behind -- easy enough for an inexperienced tracker to find. Broken branches, displaced rocks, articles of clothing left hanging on bushes. . By the time she reaches a good spot, she's barely clothed. Her smalls are the last thing she takes off, hanging them delicately from a tree branch she has to jump to reach. All that's left is her traveling tunic, rough, long, and pleasant against her skin.
There's a little rock cubby close by. Not big enough for an entire party, but big enough for her to hide in while the Bull seeks. But claustrophobia does set in on occasion. And she has a headstart. After a moment listening to the woods, she leans back against a tree. One hand slips under the edge of her tunic. The other roughly kneads her own breasts, switching off, as she gently explores her own folds.
Masturbation doesn't displease her. Far from it. There's something unique about the ecstasy she can bring herself. And though she does love the feeling of a cock inside her, someone's lips against her clit, this is good --
"Not so fast," a growl comes. Before she can registerreactdosomething, her hands are pinned over her head. "Baldie was kind enough to let me leave early, since he was already awake," Bull growls into her ear. "And now you're mine."
"Oh, no!" she cries, laughter in her voice and lust in every fiber of her body. "Whatever shall I do? This Qunari will ravage me!"
"Oh yes, he will." He runs one huge finger down the curve of her ear, slowly, his calluses rasping against the tender skin. Nothing can contain the sound that bursts from her, somewhere between a moan and a whining keen. "Have you ever had a Qunari before, little elf?"
Her head's already dizzy enough with lust she can't do anything but shake her head. "No? Good." He pulls her up higher, her tunic catching on the bark of the tree, and rolls his hips into hers. Her eyes roll back into her head at the pressure, at the telling hardness in his ridiculously cartoonish pants. "Then I get to ruin you for anyone else," he hisses, running his teeth up her neck and nipping at the bottom of her earlobe.
"Nnnngh," is her response. Bull laughs again and begins unlacing her shirt.
"I love elves." He pauses. "Actually, I just love sex, but that's beside the point. Elves are so little. . .and I'm. . .not." Another demonstrative roll of his hips that nearly makes her come just with the pressure. "How about it, boss?" He finishes unlacing her tunic, just in time for the roll of his hips to make her arch her back. The cloth falls to her hips. "You think you'll be the first elf to take all of my cock?" His free hand covers one breast and -squeezes-.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Ellana thinks, That's kind of impressive. Even humans can't do that. It calls back a distant memory of one of her bed partners. The other woman had laid in bed beside her, fondling her breasts, and said with a laugh, "They're almost as big as my head!"
Ellana had raised her head and looked at the other woman, eyebrows high. "Are they?"
"Well, almost. Like half the size of my head. See?" She demonstrated by laying her head between Ellana's breasts. It's not untrue -- but they had quickly moved on from that revelation.
"Hmmm, boss?" Iron Bull growls in her ear now, hips positioned just so she can feel the slightest press against her bare pussy.
"Not. . in the business. . .of taking bets I'll lose. . ." she gasps. "Fuck, Bull, please, just -- please --"
"Since you asked so nicely. . ." One finger enters her. It's not even a challenge, despite his finger being double -- triple? -- the size of human fingers. Her slickness drips down to his hand as he lets the finger sink into her, down to the knuckle. "Better?"
"N -- yes -- no --" She exhales harshly and nearly bangs her head on the tree trunk in frustration. It's thick, and wonderful, but she needs. . ."More! PLEASE!"
A second finger. Her eyes roll back in her head. Slowly, he withdraws. Before the whine on her lips becomes words, he shoves them back in, third finger joining. What sound comes across her lips, she doesn't know, but -- her thoughts devolve quickly. She wraps her legs around his waist. She's so wet she can hear the shlick of her own juices. His fingers fuck her mercilessly, pounding, stretching, sweet yes yES YES
Her spasm lasts full minutes. He doesn't stop. He adds another finger. She comes apart on his hand, cum sliding down to pool in his palm. Her hips snap desperately towards him, his deep chuckle ringing in her ears.
And he withdraws. "Please --" before she can finish the plea, he's entering her. She can't see him, see his cock, but he's so thick. Even as wet as she is, it still burns. But it burns so good. Her hips buck towards him, driving him in farther.
"Good?" he breathes in her ear, raking teeth over it after he speaks. She comes right on the spot, body pulsing around him again.She nods, nods hard, words gone. "Do you like that?" he asks, pressing into her farther, splitting her open so wonderfully. Another nod. "You like me ruining your tight little cunt?" She nods. "I want to hear it."
And he stills. He doesn't move, won't let her move. She obliges. "I love --" she's short of breath. "I love your huge fucking cock, filling me up, ruining me," she spits. Ellana needs her hands free -- needs -- "OH!"
He rocks into her, hitting so many spots her vision blacks out for an instant. "Look down, little slut," he hisses. She obeys, trembling too much to do anything else. "You see that?" He's filling her entirely, more than she's ever been filled before, stretched so wide that the pleasant burn borders on pain. . .and he's not even fully inside her. At least a full handspan of cock is still outside of her.
"Good thing. . .no bet. . ." she gasps. He laughs and withdraws, just a bit, before rocking forward again. Her vision doesn't go black this time, but it's close.
"Indeed," he rumbles. And then he sets to his job of fucking her. Every time he withdraws, she feels bereft and empty and so very dirty. Every time he slams into her, it's hard enough to make her hips ache, makes her slide against the tree, makes her screech. Whenever he hits a particularly sensitive spot, he knows, and his mouth's dirty enough to keep her from feeling guilty about enjoying this so damn much. "What do you think your little friends would do if they knew how much of a little whore you were?" he hisses into her ear. "Herald of Andraste. . .did Andraste like cock as much as you did? I bet you want to fuck every one of them."
She's nearly limp now, legs only wrapped around him through muscle memory. His words barely register. But she nods.
"Oh, you do?" The hand holding her captive finally, finally lets go. "You want them all to have you? Bend you over a table, make you beg for them? Hm?" She can barely nod, hanging onto his shoulders for dear life. One huge, huge thumb brushes across her clit.
She's done. This time, she comes with a wail that surely echoes from the treetops. It's so intense, built on the dozens of tiny orgasms being filled with him gave her, she nearly passes out. Through the haze, she registers him shouting something Qun-sounding.
Somehow, someway, when hot cum floods her pussy, she comes again. There's so -much- of it, wave after wave, and --
When her vision and thought comes back, she's on the ground, curled up against Bull. "You okay?" he asks. His voice is surprisingly tender, despite all he's said and done to her in the last thirty minutes.
"Mmmhmm," she hums. "Good as can be." Her eyes flicker up to his one and she smiles. "Thank you. Needed that."
His laugh, still low and delectable, rumbles through him and she's close enough to feel it. "Broken sentences? You sure I didn't break you, boss?"
"Good breaking." She yawns, debates the wisdom of it, and decides. If he can fuck her senseless and not murder her on the spot, she's good. "Carry me t' camp, please." It doesn't take maybe five minutes to fall asleep on his wide chest. Pain in her back -- bark?
She'll deal with it in the morning. Her last thought is, Much better than wooden.
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The Inquisitor's Diversions