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The Bull's Pen	By : LadySummerisle Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 4591 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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
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Malika knew exactly where she wanted to be touched by the Iron Bull, she didn’t need even need one minute to decide that. She petted herself absentmindedly between her legs as she read through the message over and over. The Iron Bull could contact her now, directly...and she could contact him. She tried to think of a fitting response, but her nerves were overwhelming. The thought of him writing to her...it must have taken him mere minutes to write this message she would be thinking about for days. In fact, he must have written it while she was fantasizing about him. A chill ran through her body as she thought of him crafting his message as she brought herself to orgasm, it was like his fingers had been working on her after all.
   She moved herself to the dry side of the bed--she would have the sheets changed in the morning--and turned off the lights, still clutching her phone and reading the last line of his message periodically as she drifted off to sleep.
   Five days passed and she still hadn’t responded to the Iron Bull, but she had pleasured herself to the point of soreness night after night thinking about their upcoming session. She had to find a substitute for her dagger hilt. Not only was it rubbing her raw, but it made her uneasy any time someone made a move to touch it. Of course, she cleaned it thoroughly, but her stomach still churned when she thought of anyone finding out where it had been.
   Back when she lived at home, she had a few toys of her own that she bought at a shop in Kirkwall, but Kirkwall was a long ways away and she didn’t feel like ordering them online just to have Leliana’s agents see them when they checked her mail. She shook her head as she thought of Blackwall, always whittling something or other. If she asked, she had no doubt he would make whatever she wanted...especially if it meant getting closer to her. After a few flirtatious jokes during one of their first conversations, he’d been practically smitten and she wished she could return his affections. He seemed like a good man, but the way he doted on her with his puppy dog eyes, always making sure to mention how he didn’t deserve attention or praise...there was only so much of that she could hear before she began to believe it. He could never give her what she really wanted.
   No, what she needed was a shop, and she imagined there had to be one near The Bull’s Pen. When her team arrived in Val Royeaux, she freshened up then left immediately. Leliana had stayed behind for this trip, but told Malika that the information trade was going well. She had already made use of some of the Iron Bull’s reports and he was satisfied with what she was providing in return. In her stead she sent a bodyguard who said little, but rode alongside Malika as they made their way to the red lantern district. She felt silly as she inched through the streets, eyes squinting to read every sign until finally she found something promising:
   Intrigue: Fine Adult Goods, read the sign in small, crimson lettering. Like all the good places, it tried not to make its presence too obvious. She pulled into the parking lot behind the shop and entered through the back door. Inside it was beautiful, ornate and rich as the central square of Orlais itself. The ceiling was high with gold molding that framed a steeply pitched roof and all around were tables full of familiar yet strangely opulent merchandise. Slimline vibrators plated in gold and lush lingerie trimmed in layers of feathers. The proprietor watched her closely as she moved through, never letting her hood down or removing her gloves.
   Malika wasn’t much for unnecessary frills and was happy when she found a section more her speed. In a small room, tucked away up a spiral staircase she found what she could only assume was the “ugly” section. Toys that didn’t look too impressive but were no doubt their actual bread and butter. She walked up to a selection of carved, wooden phalluses of various sizes, picked one up and ran it through her hand. It felt much nicer than what she had been using. She picked up two: a smallish one for everyday use and one with some nice girth on it for when she was feeling adventurous. She blushed as she held the larger one, wondering if it came close to what the Iron Bull was packing. Hopefully someday she would at least have the chance to see it for herself, but it wasn’t something she could ever just ask him.
   New toys in tow, Malika made her way down the stairs to pay. The proprietor seemed relieved she was actually purchasing something and not grabbing the first expensive thing she saw and making a break for it. She didn’t blame him. Exiting the shop, her heart pounded. Next stop was the Bull’s Pen and she was even more nervous than she had been her first visit. The Iron Bull had become such a presence in her head since last she saw him that she worried in person he may not measure up...or worse, she wouldn’t...but the latter didn’t matter, did it? For him it was just another job.
   They drove the two blocks and parked behind the building, then went to the door where they were again greeted by Krem who took them to the waiting room,
   “Welcome back, Your Worship.” he said as she lowered her hood, “The Iron Bull sends his apologies and says he’ll be a few minutes late.”
   Malika cringed every time someone called her, “Your Worship,” but her advisors insisted it was necessary in order to build respect. It felt like a lifetime since she had been called by her own name.
   “Can I get you anything while you wait?” added Krem, “A drink?”
   “Nah, I’m fine.” said Malika, dropping into one of the overstuffed, leather armchairs. Her companion asked for some tea and Krem went to fetch it,
   “Cremissius…” said Malika when he returned, “That’s a Tevinter name, isn’t it?”
   “That’s right,” he said as he handed her bodyguard a cup, “That’s not a problem, is it?”
   “Oh, not at all, I know a lot of great Tevinters. I was just wondering how you ended up working in a Qunari’s dungeon in Val Royeaux.”
   “Well, the first time I met the Iron Bull he saved my life.”
   “Really?”
   “That’s right. I was in some trouble, trying to flee Tevinter. A tribune and his men caught me in a bordertown tavern. They meant to make an example of me. Bull killed them. Gave up his eye doing it. Bull patched me up and asked if I was looking for work. I’ve been putting up with his jokes ever since.”
   “So that’s how he lost the eye?”
   “Yes. The guards had me on the tavern floor when Bull came inside and yelled for them to stop. One of them saw trouble coming and figured he’d finish me off. The guard had a flail, Bull put himself between me and the blow. Big horned idiot…” said Krem looking away with clear admiration in his eyes, “Didn’t even know me.”
   Malika was silent for a moment, in awe of the story. The more she learned of the Iron Bull, the more impressed she became. It was relieving to know that the man she was allowing to tie up and flog her was a good man. A real good man. Not just good when he had to be.
   “Why was he even that far north?” asked Malika, trying to gauge how much information they shared.
   “Probably on some business for the Qun, not sure...didn’t ask at the time.”
   “Ah, so you know about him?”
   “Most of us do,” shrugged Krem, “A lot of the staff knew him back when he was a mercenary. He trusts us. Plus he wants to be upfront about what he’s asking us to do. We keep clients’ personal preferences confidential, but pass along any significant information we overhear, no one has much of a problem with it.”
   “So, do you take clients, Krem?” asked Malika. He laughed uncomfortably and cleared his throat. She thought she could see a faint blush coming to his tan cheeks.
   “Hah...no...I...I’m just the manager.”
   Before she could embarrass Krem any further, the Iron Bull entered the room. Maker’s breath...it had been one month and she had already forgotten how big he was. He bent as he walked through the doorway and then stood erect, showing off his massive shoulders and pecs. Malika stood at attention without even realizing it. The Iron Bull noticed and gave her a sideways smile.
   “Inquisitor…” he said, then glanced around the room to see her bodyguard, who was absentmindedly flipping through her phone, “No spymaster today?”
   “You’re not that special.” said Malika. Her eyes immediately widened when she realized what she had just said and the Iron Bull raised his eyebrow, his amused smile growing. Being a snarky little bitch was her default state and she often had trouble stopping herself from immediately saying whatever came to mind...it was a habit that, as Inquisitor, she was trying desperately to break, “I didn’t--that’s not--I mean--I’m sorry, Ser.”
   She dropped to her knees, eyes to the ground. The Iron Bull laughed, bent over and offered her a hand.
   “Don’t worry about it, Inquisitor.”
   Malika looked up and took his hand, allowing him to pull her up with ease.
   “I’ll just take it out of your hide later…”
   He lead her through the same door as the last time and they entered the dark hallway. She turned towards the stairs, but as soon as the door clicked shut, she felt him pressed up against her back, his hand firmly grasping her throat,
   “You know, little girl,” he said, his voice having changed from his casual tone to a deep, mean growl, “When I send a message, I expect a response.”
   “I--I’m sorry, Iron Bull.” said Malika through ragged breaths of arousal,
   “I know you’re a busy woman,” he said, letting his hand trail down her chest and over the peaks of her breasts, “It doesn’t have to be right away, it doesn’t have to be long, but next time you give me a reason to believe you’ve been avoiding me--” he pinched her nipple painfully through her shirt, causing her to wimper and squirm, “I may not be so nice.”
   “Yes, Ser.” she whispered. The throbbing between her legs that had started as soon as she left the sex shop had now grown so insistent that she found herself clenching her legs together in a desperate attempt at relief.
   “Good,” he said, letting her loose, “I’m glad we have an understanding.” he smacked her bottom and she took it as a signal to walk upstairs.
   “Take off your clothes.” said the Iron Bull when they entered the playroom. He sat in the same chair that he had when he undressed her the first visit. She stood in front of him and began disrobing. First her gloves came off, filling the room with her unavoidable green glow, then her cloak, her boots and at a slower pace her shirt, breeches and smalls. When she was finished, the Iron Bull leaned forward and gently brushed her cheek with his hand. She leaned into it, but he moved it quickly aside, pushed her to her knees and rested his boot on her shoulder. She supported herself on her hands and looked to the ground.
   “This is how I want you to begin every session from now on. When we enter the playroom, I expect you to be naked and on your knees before I have to ask you for it, is that clear?” he said, moving his boot under her chin and propping up her face to look up at him,
   “Yes, Ser.”
   “Good girl. Now, did the little bitch actually do what I asked for in the letter? Or have you really been naughty?”
   “I did.” said Malika, looking down to the floor again. She had been dreading this moment. She knew what she wanted but was afraid to ask for it. Maybe it would be too much, perhaps not even allowed. She was still a bit confused by the rules of the dungeon,
   “Look at me.” he said, tapping her chin up with his boot again, “Have you made your choice?”
   “I...have.” she said, working hard to stop herself from looking down again.
   “So, where are we focusing today?”
   Malika mumbled under her breath, she couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud. She felt like some novice virgin...she had never been this shy. Between her legs, she could feel the wetness growing and was afraid it might begin to drip down her leg. She pushed herself to speak, but nothing came.
   “Is the Inquisitor shy?” said the Iron Bull with a condescending smirk. Malika made a meek sound that confirmed his suspicion,
   “Alright, you can be shy this time, but just because I think I know what you want.” He slid his boot between her legs, letting it rest directly under her dangerously wet core,
   “Am I warm?”
Malika nodded with wide, wanton eyes and the Iron Bull slid forward in his chair, letting the shin of his boot crash against her flesh and grind into her,
   “So you want me to play with your pretty, little cunt today, huh?”
   “Yes!” said Malika, giving in and lowering herself further onto his leg, she was sure she could come from this alone.
   “Are you sure, little girl? You might be regretting that choice later…”
   “Please!” she said, practically begging. the Iron Bull shook his head,
   “Alright, can’t say I didn’t warn you. Stand up.” he pushed her back with his knee. She did what she was told and he pointed to a far corner where there was a bed on another raised platform.
   “On the bed.” he said, “And spread your legs.”
   Her heart pounded as she approached. This one wasn’t upholstered in leather, but had luxurious silk sheets. She climbed up and sat on the edge, her legs slightly parted. The Iron Bull was busy looking through a drawer next to the bed. First he brought out a towel and bent down to look at his boot. He tutted.
“Got me all sticky, naughty girl.”
“I’m sorry…” she said, honestly embarrassed; although, he was the one who put his boot there and he must have known what would happen. After cleaning his boot, he threw the towel in a basket and pulled out a pair of thin, leather gloves that were so tight it took him a moment to work his hands into them. Finally he approached her and her heart began to truly pound. After pushing some hair softly behind her ear, he held her head upward to look at him,
“Do you remember that word I taught you? For if you want to stop?”
“Yes.” she said,
“Say it.”
“Katoh?” she said and he removed his hand.
“Did you mean that? Do you want to stop?”
“No!” she cried, grabbing his hand and pulling it back to her face. The Iron Bull laughed his low, slow laugh and rubbed her cheek with his thumb,
“Good girl.”
He pushed her back on the bed and her breath caught in her throat as he took her knees and pushed them up and apart. There was no going back now, she was completely bared before him. He leaned over her, placing a hand on the bed and she trembled beneath his truly awesome frame. How she wished he would forget their agreement, undo his trousers and take her right there--but it didn’t happen. He was slow, thoughtful and methodical. He looked her up and down, tracing one finger along her inner thigh, teasing her. Involuntarily, her hips bucked up towards him and he laughed,
“Impatient Inquisitor...what should I do with you?”
“Touch me…” moaned Malika desperately.
“I am.” he said, scraping his fingers against her thigh,
“Maker’s breath, you know what I mean!” she said and without thinking went to grab his arm. He deflected her and bent over, pinning both arms to the bed,
“You either stay still or I’ll make you stay still, little girl. Now are you going to be good for me or do I have to get the rope?”
Yes, get the rope! thought Malika, but she looked at his stern face and was desperate to please him.
“No…” she said meekly and relaxed into the bed.
“That’s a good girl.” He let go of her arms and put a gloved hand between her legs, letting it brush ever so slightly against her outer folds. She shivered at the touch and held herself back from a more wanton display of approval. Placing the palm of his hand on her stomach, he then let his thumb glide over her nether lips a few times, hardly using any pressure and never trying to delve deeper. Malika’s eyes were almost watering as she restrained herself from trying to move as he pet her. Her body was trembling.
The Iron Bull laughed again. He was always laughing at her, teasing, making her feel silly and small. It was torture...and she loved it. She craved his wicked smile as much as she craved his stern growls and both of those as much as she craved anything else he could offer. It was unreal how fulfilling a simple emotional response from him was...but it was.
“You are just a desperate little slut, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” she said, throwing her head back into the sheets and shutting her eyes. She wanted to beg so badly, but she knew it wouldn’t help,
“Then maybe I’ll just give you what you want.”
At those words, Malika looked up again. The Iron Bull knelt at the edge of the bed and rested his left arm on her body; she felt his thumb and forefinger delve gently between her folds and when they were deep enough he separated them, holding her open wide. She thought she might begin to hyperventilate. His hands were on her and she was utterly exposed. His face was so close that for a moment she had the wildest fantasy he would dive in and lick her; but of course, that didn’t happen. He took his other hand and without hesitation, brushed against her against her swollen clit. She gasped and he touched it again, gently on the top.
“Does that feel good, little girl?”
“Yes.” she moaned, unable to stop herself from rhythmically wiggling her hips into him.
“How about this,” he said, sliding his thumb up the underside. She whimpered and struggled against her urge to back away.
“Aww, you’re a sensitive little slut, aren’t you?” He did it again and she squirmed underneath him. He laughed and began to rub her in rough, slow circles, using extra force as he came around the underside,
“Yes, I really am!” She agreed and began to back away,
“Is it too much, Inquisitor?” He stroked up and down the underside, focusing on the exact part that made her jump until finally, she sat up and pushed his hands away. In the blink of an eye, he was over her again, one hand between her legs continuing to touch her too-sensitive nub, the other on her throat.
“I told you to sit still. You can either control yourself and take this like a good girl or I can tie you up and you can take it like a bad one, what will it be?”
“I can’t!” she said as her hips bucked and her hands grabbed at his wrist.
“So be it.” he said. He pinned down her chest with one hand as he reached to the side, pulling a length of rope out of seemingly nowhere. Leaning on one half of her body, he grabbed her hand pressed it up against the inside of her ankle, he lashed her wrist to her ankle and the middle of her arm to her thigh then repeated on the other side. The speed at which he worked was incredible and before she knew it, she was completely immobilized. She struggled against the ropes, but it was no use. She couldn’t move at all and definitely couldn’t close her legs. The Iron Bull got a pillow and arranged in beneath her shoulders so she was angled up, facing him.
“Are you comfortable?” he asked sincerely. She stopped to take stock of herself...Oddly enough, yes. The ropes didn’t burn or pinch and nowhere on her body felt stretched or strained. Other than the immense dread she felt at more intense contact, she felt good. She chuckled in spite of herself,
“Yes, actually…”
“Always tell me when something hurts...when it’s not supposed to, I mean...now where were we?”
His look changed back to his devious glare and he brushed the underside of her clit again. She whined and strained, but it did nothing. She could hardly even twitch her hips. The Iron Bull laughed and stroked her again and again. It was painful, almost sharp like the slice of a blade. She mumbled to herself and threw her head back, mewling like a cat in heat.
“Is it too much?” he asked,
“Yes!” she cried out, desperate for him to stop but not willing to say the word,
“Well, that’s just too bad because it’s only going to get worse.”
Malika looked up and saw him reach below the bed to pull out a small, leather slapper. Three stiff slips of leather at the end of a handle, this flogging instrument hadn’t been on the wall, but that made sense. It was tiny compared to the vastness of his hand. It was just the right size for a small, controlled area...fuck, thought Malika.
The Iron Bull stopped his rubbing and used one hand to hold her wide open again. She whimpered,
“Let’s play a game.” he said as he slid the slapper against her open cunt, “I’m going to spank you ten times here.” he landed the instrument gently on her clit, “And I want you to count every hit. If you lose count, we start over and when we get to the end I’ll move on to something else. I may even let you have an orgasm. How does that sound?”
She groaned. It sounded agonizing, but the promise of an orgasm...from him...there were few things she wouldn’t do.
“Ok.” she said softly,
“Good girl.” said the Iron Bull, and with that the first blow fell. Her stomach clenched and her legs strained at the ropes,
“One.” she said.
“Very good.”
It fell again, slightly harder this time. It was an incredible sensation, seeming both blunt and sharp at the same time and almost like he was hitting an area that was already bruised. She was sure that the state of her arousal wasn’t helping,
“Two”
Slap.
“Three”
He intensity increased,
“Hmmmf--four--five--six--six--”
“What was that?”
“What!?” said Malika, she had been completely focused, “What? I was counting, I counted!”
“Maybe counting’s different for dwarves but I’m pretty sure there’s only one six.”
Malika paused and thought back,
“Fuck…” she said when she realized her mistake. The Iron Bull adjusted his hand to make sure she was spread wide as ever,
“Again.” he said. She tried to focus as the slapper came down, but he was not letting up on the intensity,
“One!” she said, hoping being loud might help her focus. It dropped again, nearly taking her breath away with the pain, but she persevered, “Two!”
Again and again it fell. She passed six, she counted seven then eight and then...blank. What the fuck comes after eight? Her mind blanked and she closed her eyes,
“Count!” said the Iron Bull, but she couldn’t. She tried to close her legs in vain, she couldn’t start over but she couldn’t say the word, if only she could remember...eight...eight...eight…
“Fine, we’re starting over,”
“Nine!” she finally yelled then threw her head back in relief, but she should have known the last one wouldn’t be easy. She could hear the air rush past the slapper as it came down one last, terrible time on her most sensitive spot,
“TEN!” she screamed, her breath ragged as her crotch throbbed with painful echoes of her spankings.
“Good girl.” said The Iron Bull. He put his fingers through her hair at the side of her head and she nuzzled up to his hand, desperate for a gentle touch.
“Do I…?”
“Get an orgasm?” he said, “We’ll see…”
She groaned. Another challenge, another test. The Iron Bull walked to the side of the bed and she heard him fussing with something, then to her surprise, she felt the bed lurch sideways as he joined her on it. He pulled her in to let her rest between his legs. She arched her back to see if maybe she could feel him behind her, but was disappointed to realize there was a well-placed pillow between them. Still, it felt good to lay against his chest, surrounded by his massive arms and legs. He reached to the side and picked up what looked like a hefty, white back massager,
“You ever use one of these?” he said.
“No…” She had seen girls in videos use them, but had never really seen the appeal, “I’m not really into vibrators.”
He laughed again,
“Well, you’ll be into this one, I think...either that or you may be using that watchword.”
He flipped the switch on the side and it started up. It was so much louder than she expected and the vibrations were enough to make his arm shake. He pressed it into her shoulder and let it slowly travel down her chest. He held it at her nipple and she had to admit, it was better than she was expecting. She let herself relax as he alternated between one breast and another, but then he got back on track to his final destination. He pressed it in on the mound right above her slit and she could feel the intense vibrations already stimulating her. He rubbed it in as it slowly descended, finally coming to rest between her lips directly above her throbbing nub. He pressed it hard into her and made circular motions. She let her head lean back into his chest and moaned softly. He was right, it was good...it was really good. She felt warmth blossom from the point of contact and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she came, but then he dipped lower, making direct contact with her clit. She cried out and tried to close her legs, forgetting she was still tied open. He laughed and started bouncing it on her, enjoying her little cries and screams every time he touched it. He ran it up the underside and she thought she couldn’t take it. Her hands clenched and her eyes shut tight. She mumbled and cursed, but the assault continued,
“Is that too much, inquisitor? Do you want me to stop?” he said, but she knew he was mocking her, he had no intention of stopping,
“Yes!” she said, even in the face of futility, “Please, it’s too much, please!”
“Good.” he said and flipped the switch on the side, causing the wand to vibrate even harder. She screamed as he rubbed it up and down her clit, her legs begging to close and tears building in her eyes,
“Please!” she said, “Please, I can’t take it, please.”
“You want to be my good little girl, don’t you?”
“Yes!”
“You want me to own this pussy, right?”
“Yes, oh Maker yes!” she said,
“Then shut your fucking mouth and come for me, little slut.”
She bit down on her lips and felt her whole body tense as he continued to rub the vibrator over her clit, occasionally stopping on the spot directly above to give her a much needed break. She muffled her own screams inside her mouth every time he grinded it on the underside of her clit, but after a while she became accustomed to it. Finally her body went limp in his arms and every stroke of the wand brought her closer and closer. As if he sensed her submission, the Iron Bull stopped his torturous assault and focused on the one spot she enjoyed so much in the beginning, pressing into it hard and moving in little circles. She was close. She was so beautifully, desperately close when he took his free hand, and clutched her neck gently,
“Come for me,” he said. And she did like it was the last orgasm of her life. She twitched and clenched and sustained her climax for a minute or more as he kept up a constant pressure and rhythm. When she was finished, her head lolled to the side and he turned off the device. Taking her head in his hand, he angled it up so they could just lock eyes,
“Very good girl.” he said and she sighed with blessed relief.
   They didn’t move from their positions, but the Iron Bull began to untie her restraints as they sat,
   “Was that what you wanted?” he asked as he pulled the rope off of one of her legs. She laughed,
   “Well, it wasn’t what I was expecting, but fuck…yes.”
   “Good, wasn’t too hard on you?”
   “You were...but I’m a big girl, I can take it.”
   “You don’t look big to me…” said the Iron Bull. He had finished untying her other side and she leaned back, letting her elbows rest on his massive thighs.
   “Sometimes it’s nice to feel small.”
   “So,” he said, absentmindedly petting her hair, “I have to ask, do you like being the Inquisitor?”
   “I do.” she said, “It’s not easy, but it’s good to know I’m fighting for a good cause...and I know it’s a good cause because I’m the one in charge. I’ve made a lot of friends, and it’s not like I was leaving much behind.”
   “You don’t miss anything about your old life?”
   “My old life was fucked. My own family pretty much wanted me dead...but I do miss my brother.”
   “Anything else?”
   She thought about it for a moment as she leaned into his hand,
   “Yeah, I guess there’s one other thing. Nobody ever calls me by name anymore Cadash, sure; Inquisitor, Your Worship, Herald, but I was a field agent for two years before the conclave happened and honestly, I don’t remember the last time anyone called me by my first name.”
   “Malika.” said the Iron Bull, it caused shivers that made her physically shake, “Right?”
   “Yeah…”
   “Good to know.” he said.
   After a few more minutes they got up, Malika began to dress and the Iron Bull excused himself. When he returned, they walked down the stairs together.
   “I’m taking care of some business in the Western Approach,” she said when they reached the waiting room, “But when I’m done...I...I want to come back.”
   “You better,” he said casually, then leaned down to kiss her cheek, “Stay safe, Malika.”
   “Yes, Ser.”
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The Bull's Pen