Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Persephone
Title: O'Maya's Plight - Chapter VII
Summary: The conclusion of the O'Maya saga, where the hero defeats the
villian and everyone fucks happily ever after.
Keywords: scifi, oral, M+f
Date: 2_5_2017

   Disclaimer: This is a sexual fantasy.  The author does not advocate or
participate in underage sexual activities.  If you are offended by
pornography, for God's sake stop reading internet porn, you idiot.  If you
are underage and interested in sex, welcome to the human race.  This is a
fantasy, without consequences.  Real sex has consequences like pregnancy
(duh!), disease, and emotional devastation.  Don't ever let anybody talk
you into doing something you aren't ready for.  When you are old enough to
be ready, relish every minute.  But right now, get outta here, kid!  You
trying to get me in trouble?

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   ---

   O'Maya's Plight Chapter VII by Persephone

   So the Magus is done.  I guess that makes Jalen the new Magus?  Is that
how it works?  Fuck, the Dolman's gonna have his ass, if I was him I'd lay
low.  For about the next century.

   I get up and two of the sisters are double-teaming some guy, one of the
soldiers, right here in the tent with everybody else either sleeping or
watching.  The kid, the little girl who lives on cum, is sleeping curled up
between her mom and Jalen.  And I suddenly realize I have no idea how old
she is.  Twelve?  Three?  Sixty?  Does it even matter?  Guess not.

   The tent flap swings open and a soldier comes in with his helmet in his
hand.

   "If you have no business in the camp," he says breathlessly, "I suggest
you leave.  The Dolman is on the warpath - he's already had two of his
lieutenants killed for insubordination and he's hotter than hell!  Be
silent or be gone." He ducks away again, then sneaks back in, kisses a
red-headed Sylvari on her boob, and dashes away.

   "Well, people know about the Magus," O'Maya says.  "Vic-tor, do you want
to leave?"

   "I wann kick his fuckin' ass is what I wanna do.  I don't for sure know
how though.  But no, I ain't leaving."

   She kisses me again with a worried look in her eyes.  "You know he wants
to kill you."

   "Yeah I kinda get that.  But we got you guys, the kid, Jalen who has his
own shitsack of problems, and the...refugees?  And Mi'drae is pregnant.  No
way I'm bugging out now."

   "And more will come," the girl's mother says.

   "Huh?"

   "Refugees.  There are many others, displaced by war.  Sylvari, and
Solequo, and others.  The Dolman has a lot to answer for."

   "Doesn't he just go where the king - what did you call him?"

   "Kojo."

   "Where the Kojo sends him?"

   "It used to be so.  But the Dolman is strong, arrogant and selfish.  He
goes where he wants, he no longer answers to the Kojo.  As long as the
Dolman doesn't challenge the Kojo directly, and keeps the population in
turmoil and dependent on the throne, the Kojo lets him do what he wants."

   "Oh for fuck's sake.  Even more reason to bring the dickbag down.  Okay.
So if I was gonna fight him, what would I need?"

   "Thirty years of training?"

   "An army?"

   "Immortality?"

   "You guys aren't helping."

   "Tea of battle strength."

   "Better.  Gimme a shit load of that."

   Someone puts a cup in my hand and I take a sip.  It's like an energy
drink times a thousand.  Goddamn, they have a tea for every fucking thing
here.  Wonder if there's a tea for not getting a tax audit?  I take another
sip, and another.  I feel looser, liquid, invincible, as if my arms and
legs are made of liquid lightning, my heart is a fucking whirlwind and I
can see the slightest movement.

   "Holy crap, what's in this shit?"

   "Six demon sorcery.  Wind, fire, all that kind of thing."

   "Oh yeah, I'm loving this.  Whenever we go mano, I'm gonna want a
fucking gallon of it.

   There's a commotion outside, people shouting.  A half-dressed soldier
leans in through the flap.

   "Stay quiet, he's coming this way.  Be --"

   I cut him off with a wave, and charge out of the tent.  I'm still naked
and haven't had breakfast, but fuck it, it's time.  And I'm high on this
demon battle tea shit, whatever the fuck it is.

   I stand in the middle of the clearing and make what I hope is a good
hero pose.  Wish I had a sword.

   "Yo!  Shit for brains!  Are you just that fucking ugly, or did your neck
throw up?"

   Douchebag stops and stares at me.  He's in full armor, some shiny black
getup with red stripes, and yeah he looks pretty damn scary.  Like I care
right now.

   "Come on, you tallywacker.  You ain't got the balls to fight me.  I said
now, douchebag!  Dance, monkey boy."

   "Noname, you are already dead," he growls.  "Do you really want to
challenge me?"

   "What's it look like, Sally Perkins?  You an' me, dick-cheese.  Right
now."

   I notice soldier and other people, backing away into tents, trying not
to be seen.

   "You have no chance, noname."

   "Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.  Or was that your mother?!"

   "I will kill you - no, I will break you in half, and then I will let you
watch while I tear your girlfriend's heart out and eat it.  And then I will
kill you."

   I shoulda had more tea, the effect is beginning to wear off.  Am I
actually doing this?  What the fuck?

   Douchebag draws his swords and steps toward me, then pauses.

   "Out of respect for your apparent stupidity," he says, "And because I
want to make an example of you, I will give you one hour to prepare.  Be at
the combat yard.  I will kill you there." And then he turns and storms off,
to go be a dick somewhere else for an hour.

   I stand there like a fucking moron, trying to figure out what I just set
myself up for.  People start coming out of tents again, and O'Maya has her
arm around me.

   "That was the bravest thing I have ever seen, Vic-tor.  And also the
stupidest."

   "And also the stupidest," I agree.  "The fuck am I doing?  I'm not a
damn fighter.  He was sword training before I was even fucking born!  I
don't stand a chance."

   She helps me back into the Sylvari tent, where Jalen stands looking at
me with his arms crossed.

   "I am looking at a dead man," he says matter-of-factly.  "But if you
intend on doing this, I want to show you something.  Look here."

   He opens a small box and takes out a red medallion, the size of a poker
chip.  It's got funny writing on one side, and the army symbol with the
eagle on the other.

   "Put this on.  It is a spell of numbing.  You won't feel pain.  It may
not save your life, but it will make your death less painful."

   "Well that helps I guess.  Did you get this from the Magus?"

   "Among other things.  This will make your death less...traumatic."

   "Nobody thinks I have a fucking chance, do you?"

   My question is only met with awkward silence.

   "Yeah, you'll see.  I got this shit." I know I'm only talking to keep
myself from going batshit panicky.  I want to believe I can beat this guy.
Thousand to one odds, bases loaded, bottom of the ninth, that's when the
little guy always wins, right?  Right?

   O'Maya lays me down on a bed, slides her way down my body and starts
licking and sucking my cock.  Her magic saliva, whatever the fuck is in it,
get me hard again even though my balls are gonna be dry for a week.  She
wraps her hand around my rod and just lays there, her hair and her boobs on
my body, her hand gently stroking me.  I've never considered myself any
kind of fucking romantic but this chick is special.  Even if she is maybe
older than my grandmother.

   I musta dozed off because when I wake up, someone is brewing a bunch of
funky-ass smelling tea and Jalen is polishing a sword.  He sees me and
nods, and Mi-drae helps me get into the armor I've been using.  I strap the
sword on and tuck the medallion into the armor.

   I look around, but O'Maya isn't here.  Fuck, didn't she want to give her
hero a big send-off before he gets slaughtered?

   I drink three cups of that weird-ass tea.  Fuck, I'll probably have to
stop mid-fight to take a leak.  If I make it that long.  But it has the
desired effect - once again, I feel like greased lightning, smooth, quick,
strong and invincible.  And cocky.  Did I mention cocky?

   So Mi'drae and Jalen and I walk out towards the combat yard.  Good,
cause I don't know where the fuck it is.  There's people standing by the
road just watching as I was past, like one of those slow-motion pans in a
U2 video.

   Finally we get to the yard.  Of course Douchebag is already there,
looking like ten pounds of shit in an eight pound suit.  Actually this one
is a black leather getup like some WWF wrestler.  All he's missing is the
stupid mask.

   I look up, and there's O'Maya, looking like everyone's perfect
cheerleader.  She has the same kind of satin and silky chain outfit on she
had when we met, and fuck if she isn't the most gorgeous thing alive.  Her
big, round boobs, her slender belly, that ass....oh god, that ass.  Fuck.
If I have to die for anyone, I'm glad it's her.

   "Ready to die, boy?" Dickhead shouts.  "I want everyone to see, this is
what happens to upstart children who think they can oppose me.  "Watch an
execution." He draws his two swords out of wherever the fuck he hid them on
his back, a pair of wicked-looking, jagged blades.  Oh, those are going to
suck.  All I've got is this one measly-ass sword I don't even know how to
fucking use.

   "Your move, Dickbreath," I shout back.  I hope I sound convincing.  Even
after three cups of that battle-power tea shit, I think I'm gonna need
backup.  "We gonna stand here all day and macho-pose each other to death?
Or am I gonna have to spank your little booty?"

   He suddenly lunges at me - fuck, this guy is quick.  He's on me before
I'm ready, two blades out.  I try to move, slip on gravel and fall, which
miraculously gets me out of his way.  I try to stab up, but he bats my
sword away like a toy.

   And then he's on me again, rushing and swinging with his blades.  One
catches me under the arm and tears a nasty gash up the front of my armpit.
God damn, this feel-no-pain medallion shit works!

   I spin and thrust, but I may as well have been moving in slow motion -
he's out of my reach already and coming around.  Stop moving, dipshit!

   Another thrust and one of his knives slips under my armor and scrapes
across and over a rib.  Ohh, that sucks.  I can taste blood in the back of
my mouth.  Fuck.

   I try to turn, but even as jazzed up on this tea as I am, I'm no match
for dickface.  He's charging again, and one blade cuts through my leg. 
Owww, that should hurt like a fucking chainsaw.  Fucking hell.

   I stumble a bit and slip to one knee, and douchebag is standing over me
looking all badass triumphant.  I grab a handful of sand and hold it.

   "Well, boy?  No last words before I crush your skull?"

   "Just one, wangface.  I hope your mother knows what a fucking douche you
are." I try to say more, but I'm having trouble breathing.

   "What was that, boy?  Do you want to confess and surrender?"

   "Confess to what, cock-knocker?  That you're an ugly as fuck bitchface?"
I gasp and slip to one knee.  "Get down here when I'm talking to you,
fuckbreath," I grunt.  Douchebag actually does, crouching on one knee like
a football player pretending to pray before a game.  I grab his hair and
smash my sand into his face, rubbing it into his eyes.  Grit, gravel,
eyeballs, fuck yeah.

   He shouts and leans back, rubbing his eyes with one hand and flailing
one jagged sword in the other.  Bully fuck, he looks even bigger from here.
He sticks his swords out, thrashing.  Even blinded, he's good.  Okay, this
is where I die.  It's been real, folks.

   And then he stops thrashing and just...stops.

   And I see a weird look in his eye, like he just had a weird idea in his
head that he can't process.  He looks at me again, and for a millisecond
the two of us are frozen time staring at each other, wondering what the
fuck the other guy is waiting for.

   And then a stab of metal emerges from his chest, blood seeping through
the armor.

   And he's falling slowly toward me, sliding down the metal.  He's going
to crush me to death.

   And I roll clumsily out of the way, and look up.

   And there is O'Maya standing behind him, her hands still in the position
of holding the long dagger that just slipped out of her grasp.

   She has a look on her young, gorgeous face, a look of rage, and horror,
and revenge, and judgement, and shock and sorrow and hope and fear
and......

   ...........

   ...and she is the most god damn gorgeous thing I have ever seen.  She
falls slowly to her knees and I catch her in my arms.

   "I've never killed anyone before," she whispers with a shaking voice, "I
have blood on my soul.  Shakari sonem lathirikhta.  I am unclean."

   "You are free," I whisper into her ear, suddenly realizing how badly I
need a doctor.  "Nobody will judge you."

   "I am unclean."

   "You are vengeance.  And you bought all these people a day of sunshine."
Poetic?  I hope so.  Fucking greeting card, that's me.

   Mi'drae and Jalen and a couple others appear out of nowhere and help us
away.  I glance back at Dickhead, expecting him to wake up and lunge like a
cheesy almost-dead movie villain.  Nope, he's laying there with O'Maya's
dagger in his back, looking like the pile of shit that he is.

   O'Maya repeats that weird phrase again, and Mi'drae is holding her hands
and whispering to her.

   I notice a couple of soldiers walking toward the body.  They can have
him, I'm done with him.  Fucker.

   We make it back to the Sylvari tent.  Nobody stops us or challenges us.
The whole camp is in a kind of state of suspended belief, like everyone is
waiting for someone else to do the next thing.

   Back at the tent, they help me out of my clothes and lay me down on a
bed.  Damn, I'm fucked up.  Ribs, shoulder, leg....  still coming down off
that freaky battle tea.

   Someone gives me another tea - yep, tea for every fucking thing - and
Jalen takes the medallion from me.  As soon as he pulls it off, the pain
kicks in like a fucking hammer and I'm arching my back and screaming.  More
tea soothes the pain a bit, and I'm being bandaged by the two sexiest
nurses God ever made.  And then I pass out.  Thank fucking god.

   -

   I wake up and O'Maya is changing my bandages, but she's by my side in a
flash.

   "You won, you know," she says softly.

   "You won.  You killed him.  I just distracted him."

   "You were the one in combat.  The fight is yours.  You are the Dolman."

   "I'm the - huh?!  No, god I'm the least fucking qualified person here.
One of his generals, a soldier, someone, not me.  I don't know from shit
about being a war chief."

   "You fought him.  He is dead.  You are the Dolman.  I am your slave."
And she kisses me with those lips again, her body rubbing against me.  Holy
fuck I wish I was healthy right now.  Oh I'd so be fucking her.  She looks
up at me through a halo of shimmery hair and smiles gently.

   "I need you," she whispers, "not just for sex.  For my life.  For my
soul.  I need you." She pauses and considers her next words carefully.

   "Vic-tor, you have never treated me like a slave.  As a slave I am not
supposed to speak of my desires.  I do not think you would mind if I spoke
this way.  I...."

   "You are free, O'Maya.  I release you from slavery.  You and all the
sisters.  You owe nothing to anybody." Hey I actually sound like I mean it!
Check me the fuck out.

   "May I...  make a suggestion?" she says quietly.

   "Anything."

   "Remember when we said the Dolman's wars have made so many refugees?"

   "Uh huh?"

   "Let them come here.  You are not a warrior, it is not your sonem.  Be a
place of welcoming.  Let your soldiers defend the unhomed."

   "My sol......huh, I guess they are."

   So we meet and make plans, O'Maya, Jalen, Mi'drae and myself, and put
out the word that the Dolman's army has a new purpose.

   -

   (Two weeks later)

   I'm riding the battle horse - which is actually a sweet ride!  - and
looking over the camp.  When word got out that we weren't going to be an
active combat army anymore, about half the soldiers left to join other
camps.  We started converting the barracks and the land to housing for
refugees and farming and such, and put the word out that unhomed Sylvari
are welcome here, and they started filtering in.  And every goddamn one is
a breathtakingly sexy porn goddess, every fucking one.  Jeezus, how do they
do that?  So I'm riding along, looking shit over and a kid comes up to me.
A soldier, new recruit, maybe seventeen.

   "I don't think I understand, sir," he says.

   "What's that?"

   "We're soldiers, right?"

   "Well, we're protectors now.  There's a phrase where I come from, 'To
Serve and Protect'.  All these wars, they've messed up a lot of people's
lives.  So our job now, is to protect and serve.  So if a Sylvari comes up
to you-" I hold my arm out and one of the refugees appears out of nowhere,
weird how that works.  She's tall and gorgeous, topless, wearing a shimmery
gold skirt open at the front, with lips made for cock.  Jesus.

   "--so if a Sylvari comes up to you, and tells you that she needs sex --"
the topless supermodel's eyes light up and she licks her lips "--your duty,
son, is to strip her naked and fuck her lights out.  Right there.  Think
you can do that?"

   "Umm...yes?

   "Good man.  Do your duty."

   The young soldier starts quickly undressing, his gaze on the slender,
willowy beauty before him.  She lets two fingers slide down her belly and
she's teasing her pussy, and licking her lips while she lifts her split
skirt.  She unties it and lets the material fall away, standing naked
before her young lover, palming her pert nipple.

   He strokes his cock and clumsily holds it out for her, and she's on her
knees and kissing the tip.  She opens her lips and slides him in, sucking
his cock.  He looks over at me with a look of awe and disbelief.

   "This....is what they want?"

   "It's what they need.  They live on sex.  Any Sylvari come to you for
fucking, yes.  Stop what you're doing and fuck one of the hottest chicks
you've ever seen."

   He starts fucking her right there on the street, and she's moaning and
begging for more.  Damn, I love these people.

   I ride a little further and O'Maya is by my side, completely naked and
hopelessly gorgeous.

   "My Dolman, would you like to fuck your concubine?"

   "Does the Pope wear a big hat?"

   "I'm sorry?"

   "Never mind.  C'mere."

   Damn, its good to be the king.



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