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Private Submission	By : Trawler Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 2997 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Contains strong sexual content of a sub/dom nature. I do not own Dragon Age II and make no money on this fiction.

Chapter List
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It took me some time to recover from that mind-blowing event. Meredith had stolen every ounce of my strength; it was all I could do just to raise my hands enough to cover the little dignity I had left.
Eventually, though, I was able to slide off my desk. I wobbled on unsteady feet back to my chair and collapsed. My hands trembled so badly it took a while just to refasten the buttons of my robe.
What in the name of all that was holy had just happened? While it was true Knight-Commander Meredith and I shared a stormy working relationship, things had never before taken such an intimate twist. We were of a similar age, faces lined with the passage of time, but Meredith was not an unattractive woman. Far from it – her thick hair was still the same pale blonde, her body strong and muscular from years of hard swordsmanship. Her eyes, as ever, were gimlet blue, so useful for pinning an apprentice mage to the wall, or inspiring a junior templar to hang on her every word.
I remembered, now, the way those eyes danced as she taunted me. I became hard again, uttering a groan of despair.
“Why now?” I hissed, raising my gaze heavenwards. “Maker, why test me now?”
I had to get out of this room, this place where Meredith had so used me. I would never again be able to look at my desk without remembering the feel of her body against mine as she straddled me, the way her armour had prevented me from feeling her bare skin…
I rose to my feet in one swift movement, damning my own weakness. I left my office without a backwards glance and headed for my private quarters. I met one or two mages on the way – and at least a dozen templars – but no one questioned or stopped me. I tried not to picture the look on my face.
When I reached the relative safety of my own rooms, I locked the door behind me and took the time to place a Glyph of Paralysis at the entry for good measure. I needed time alone with my thoughts, undisturbed. Time to work out what Meredith had turned me into – what I had become.
My hands trembled still as I poured a shot of fine Antivan brandy. I knocked the potent liquor back in one gulp, then coughed as it seared down my throat. I poured another, larger, measure, pleased that the alcohol was steadying my hands.
I sat in a high-backed chair and let out a gusty sigh. Meredith had promised that I would be subject to more such ‘punishments’ if I were to consort with Lady Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall. A sick feeling of dread told me that, even if I were to end my alliance with Hawke, Meredith’s punishments would continue.
My erection hadn’t lessened since the moment it re-emerged, and I cursed Meredith for making my body feel such craven lust. I had had little cause for any kind of physical entanglement in many, many years; mages in a Circle were forced to remain celibate, less they pass on the ‘curse’ of magic to their progeny. Apostates could, and did, raise families, but I had never had the luxury. Those things were taken from me many years ago.
And now Meredith was taking the few things I had left – my dignity, my pride. My free will.
I sipped the Antivan brandy and tried not to remember the feel of her hand curled around my cock, but it was impossible. Her touch had been firm, yet soft; controlling, yet encouraging.
“She called me a mage-slut,” I whispered. Sweet Maker. I had become her toy, her pet – to be controlled, to be used. To be abused. The thought made me even harder, and I suddenly cursed the fact that I had been made a man. If I were a woman, would Meredith still have imposed her will in such a manner?
A vivid fantasy of the Knight-Commander fingering a female First Enchanter on my desk had me biting back a groan, and my free hand moved unconsciously to my groin. No, Meredith would have behaved the same whatever the gender of her opponent – her will would be imposed.
Shame washed through me in a sick wave, shame and hatred at my own weakness. I shifted, uncomfortable, painfully aware of my throbbing erection. Even through my robe, the touch of my own hand made me draw a sharp breath of pleasure. I longed to stroke myself to release, but I would not give Meredith the pleasure – however unknowing – of my weakness.
But Maker help me, I was so hard.
I sat like that for hours, trying to ignore the painful throb between my legs, but I would have found defeating a pride demon easier. My anger rose with my lust, and finally, in a pique of rage, I threw my half-empty glass at the wall. It smashed, splashing brandy down the rough stones.
Both hands free, I scrabbled at my robe, ripping the buttons off in a desperate struggle to get at my cock. I whimpered as my hand closed around it, beginning a rapid up and down motion over the shaft, while my free hand closed convulsively over the arm of my chair. My eyes clenched shut and I pictured Meredith in my head, Meredith as she pinned me to my desk and forced an orgasm from me.
I pumped hard, needing to feel that blissful release, but however much I tried I couldn’t climb that peak.
It took me some time to realise what I needed.
Meredith. Meredith’s hand. That firm, yet subtle touch, ordering me to come, telling me what a slut I was…
Eventually I gave up, trying to hold back a sob of mingled shame and frustration as I readjusted my robes.
I was despicable. I was possessed by a demon, a slave to the Knight-Commander’s whim.

*

My next ‘punishment’ was just two days later. Steered by two things – the need to ease the crippling impositions of the templars on my mages, and the far baser need to feel Meredith’s hand again – I had arranged a meeting with Lady Hawke. A public meeting. As I had known, word reached Meredith, and she came to me that very evening.
I tended to retire to my quarters after a certain time, but that night I remained in my office. I hoped – I feared – I longed – for Meredith to come, and sure enough, she slammed my door open.
“How short your memory is, Orsino,” she growled as she crossed the threshold. My heart leaped at the sight of her – form-fitting armour, pale hair in a straight curtain to her shoulders, blue eyes flashing with wrath. She’d thrown back her red hood, but the golden circlet of office still graced her brow.
She was terrible to behold, terrible yet beautiful. My cock rose in helpless anticipation.
But… I had to play the game. I could not just roll over and beg for her hand, much as I desired to; I was First Enchanter, and I had an image to maintain. Meredith expected certain things of me, I was sure.
“My memory, Knight-Commander, has always been impeccable,” I drawled.
She closed the door behind her, locked it. Placed the key on a bookshelf. My eyes flicked to it, and she noticed. Her gaze narrowed.
I licked my lips, nervous and aroused.
“A shame,” Meredith replied, leaning against the door. “If you had merely forgotten the order I gave you regarding that Ferelden bitch Hawke, I may have been moved towards leniency. That you claim perfect memory, however, speaks of public defiance. And you know what that means, Orsino, don’t you?”
“P-private submission,” I stammered, heart hammering like an Orzammar smith. Sweet Maker, why couldn’t I just keep quiet? Why was I showing such weakness?
In my heart, I knew. I wanted this. My body wanted this. It was only my treacherous mind that struggled to accept the inevitable.
“Private submission,” Meredith said with some satisfaction. “Correct. Such open, premeditated disobedience requires something a little more… lasting… than your previous punishment, don’t you think?”
I shrugged, unable to look away from her.
“Stand up, Orsino.”
I stood. My stomach lurched and roiled, but my cock was harder than a golem’s shell.
“Come round to the side of your desk.”
I obeyed, feet moving without instruction from my mind.
“Turn around. Bend over.”
I bent over the edge of my own desk, bracing my hands against the aged, worn wood.
“Lower,” she growled. “I want your face against the desk.” Her voice had roughened, either in excitement or anger I could not tell. Perhaps it was both.
I bent lower until my flushed cheek lay against the cool surface, hands clutching the edges.
“A perfect position,” she murmured. “Docile, subservient. If only all your mages were so willing to receive their punishments.”
I shifted uneasily, trying not to believe the implication in her words. She punished other mages like this?
I was not the only one?
What feeling was this – outrage at my people’s situation… or jealousy that I was not the only man (or woman) to feel the controlling touch of her hand? Maker, help me. I feared it was the latter.
I heard the faint clank of her armour as she approached me, then felt movement from behind. She raised the hem of my robe to my waist, exposing my skinny buttocks and throbbing member to the cool air. A second later, she had thrown both her gauntlets onto my desk. They landed with a thump that startled me.
Then I felt the sweet, blessed touch of her bare hand against my skin, her palm trailing over a buttock. I shuddered, drawing in a sharp breath.
“Your punishment, Orsino, will be ten spanks. I have punished many people before in the same fashion – mages and templars alike – and their behaviour has always improved as a result. You will count them.”
I gulped, bit my lip. Tried to frame the words of a denial. Failed.
“Y-yes, Knight-Commander.”
Her hand left my buttock, only to return a second later and connect with a resounding slap that shook my whole body. I cried out, more from surprise than pain.
“You must count,” she hissed. “If I have to tell you again, I will double your punishment.”
“One!” I howled. She spanked me again, this time on the other buttock, and I groaned out the number. My cock bobbed and jerked between my legs; I had never felt so aroused, so shamed, so dirty. So desperate to come.
I counted. Meredith tore the number from me with every slap, every stinging blow, and when she finally reached ten I felt I might pass out. The pain was indescribable, the embarrassment and shame beyond anything I had ever felt, but it had somehow translated into pleasure so fierce I could barely support my own weight on the desk.
“Stand straight,” she barked.
With an effort I obeyed. I glanced down to see my cock standing firm, jutting out with obscene glee.
Her left arm curled around my waist, drawing me close to her body. For a wild second I hoped she would touch my cock again, stroke me until I came at her command, but she seemed more interested in pinning me against her.
I let out a startled gasp as the heated flesh of my buttocks met her cool armour. My skin was sore, yet the metal soothed it, just a little.
“I can see you will remember this lesson for some time to come,” Meredith purred in my ear, her breath disturbing my hair. “But… I feel more is required…”
The fingers of her right hand cupped my chin. I felt calluses on her fingertips from years of wielding a sword. I trembled, aware of the power in her grip. If she wanted, she could snap my neck with barely a flex of her muscles.
Light pressure, pulling my mouth open. I did not – could not – resist. A finger slipped into my mouth, then another; I closed my lips around them and suckled like a babe to its mother’s teat. Shameful, erotic pleasure rippled through my body, making me groan around her digits.
Meredith pulled her fingers from my mouth with a wet pop. My breathing was rough, the pain in my buttocks directly transmuted to pleasure I barely understood.
Her fingers were at my hip, then my buttocks. She pushed me away from her, just an inch or two, and that was when one saliva-slick finger slipped into the puckered ring of my arse.
I tensed, totally unused to such an unfamiliar invasion. I tried to pull away but Meredith’s grip on my body was iron.
“Hold still,” she purred. I wriggled, unable to obey the order, horror rising within me… and then her finger slid deeper and rubbed against something. My cock twitched and I let out a strangled cry.
“Such a slut,” she cooed in my ear. “I knew you couldn’t resist that.” She drew her finger back, and I trembled at the unexpectedly full feeling. She pushed back in. The second finger was joined by a third. Again it rubbed against that special, magical spot, and I groaned. My pelvis bucked once, twice, and would have bucked again if she had not clamped one strong hand over my hip.
“Mage-slut,” she whispered harshly. “Filthy little knife-ears. You will come on my order.”
Oh, sweet Andraste’s tits, I was ready to come right now! If she rubbed that spot just a few more times –
Her left hand closed around my cock and I nearly blacked out as a fierce, white-hot surge of pleasure raced through my body.
“C-can’t hold back!” I gasped, bucking and trembling in her grip.
She stilled the fingers moving inside me, and the hand on my cock slid down to the base of my shaft. She squeezed, gently, and after a few seconds I realised the desperate urge to come had passed.
“Beg me,” Meredith ordered. “I know how badly you need this release, Orsino. Beg me for it. Beg me like the whore you are.”
“Please,” I whispered, reaching behind me. I felt only armour where I longed to feel bare flesh. She flexed the fingers still deep inside me and I whimpered. “Please!” I begged.
“Please what?”
Oh, the bitch. She wanted to drag out every last inch of my self-respect until there was nothing left.
“Please… make me come.” My head fell back, eyes closed, mouth open as I gasped for breath.
“Tell me what you are.”
“A slut…”
“What kind of slut?”
“A m-mage-slut!”
“And who do you belong to?”
Sweet Andraste. I was so close to tears.
“I belong to y-you. K-Knight Commander M-Meredith.” She had me stuttering like an apprentice, newly snatched from his family.
“There’s a good little knife-ears,” she rumbled. Her fingers once again began their dance in and out of my arse, even as her other hand slid up and down my shaft. My hands clenched into fists as my whole body tensed, bucking and writhing under her firm grip. All I could hear was my frenetic breathing and the wet, obscene noises of her hand on my cock.
“The next time you misbehave I will fuck your arse.” There was no mistaking the excitement in her voice.
The filthy words were all the extra stimulation I needed to make me come. I let out a helpless yell as stream upon stream of seed shot from my cock, flying across my desk in a prodigious tide.
Then Meredith’s fingers were in my mouth again, and I was sucking them clean, sucking as if my life depended on it. After a few minutes she released me from her hold and I collapsed to my knees, drained more utterly of strength than any spell could manage.
“You disgust me,” she hissed. “Dirty whore. Clean up this mess.”
And with that, she was gone.
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Private Submission