The Undying Tide part 2

Three Days of Recovery and Retaliation

Three days had passed as I drifted in and out of consciousness. By the third day, I woke to find four of my women and three of my blood riders — the twins and Jogo — around me. I rose, looking around, my body aching. Maria lay near me, her head resting against her arms. Jogo, still painted in his war paint, noticed my movement and rushed to my side.

"Blood of my blood, you are awake," he said, his voice trembling slightly.

I regarded him. "What happened while I was out?"

Jogo's face darkened as he began to explain. "The city scum attacked, but we struck them down. They retreated when the rest of our khalasar arrived. Soldiers of the city also joined the fight. Some of your women were captured and displayed on the walls. They claim they killed your khaleesi, and still, you do nothing," he said, his voice laced with accusation and anger.

"Mhmm, so they forget themselves," I said coldly. I touched my leg, feeling the sharp pang of pain that lingered but was no longer crippling. "Good. Let them mark themselves for death. Show me."

With great effort, I rose and hobbled out of my tent. Outside, the Dothraki saw me walking and erupted into cheers. As their voices echoed across the camp, my horse was brought to me. Climbing it was a struggle, but I managed. With Jogo leading and my blood riders flanking me, we rode to where two blonde women and one with red hair dangled lifelessly on the city's walls. Their rotting corpses swung in the wind. Strangely, I felt no rage; I did not even know their names.

The gates of Qohor opened, and a man flanked by ten soldiers emerged, bearing a white flag. Thirty of my men, their faces adorned in war paint, stood near me. The emissary yelled in broken Dothraki, "Tell your khal we will speak peace, or we will attack you again and again."

I stared at the man, unmoved. "Invite them over. We will take their gifts," I said. Jogo pulled a white cloth from his saddle and waved it. A few hours later, two emissaries entered my tent, chairs carried by attendants. They sat across from me as I reclined on my pillows, silent. The men looked at each other nervously before beginning.

"We offer you the same terms as we did the former Khal Zekko," they started, speaking at length about gifts and the strength of their walls and armor. It was laughable. I turned to Maria. "What were their names?"

Maria's gaze met mine. "Karmil, Rosan, and Kornel," she said.

The men looked confused. I let a smirk cross my lips. "Good. I want 300 girls, 30 noblewomen, 30 noblemen, 30 noble children, and 300 soldiers. Only then will I consider sparing your sorry city. If you doubt me, ask your god if he sees a future for you." My voice was low but unwavering. "Now leave."

The men were escorted out of the camp as I issued orders for all riders to prepare. Rising with a limp, I mounted my horse. My blood riders approached, leading their steeds.

"How many men do we have?" I asked.

"Twenty thousand, my khal," Kota replied.

"Good. Braga, Bejan, take one hundred men. Wait for nightfall, take the walls, and open the gates."

The Fall of Qohor

By nightfall, chaos erupted on the walls of Qohor. Ten minutes after the gates opened, we faced another wall, lined with Unsullied spears. But the tide of the Dothraki horde was relentless, a force of nature. The Unsullied, though fearless, began to fall, slow but inevitable. The city burned as another great civilization fell to ash.

I rode under the gates slowly, issuing a single order: "Kill, enslave, and take what you will." The statement was clear; this was no ordinary raid. Noblemen and priests of the Black Goat were dragged from their temples and manses. Many were killed on the spot. Noblewomen, however, were spared, unharmed but terrified, as they were brought to the town square.

The spoils of war were gathered. Over a thousand women with blonde or red hair were taken unharmed, while others faced unspeakable fates. I dismounted with Jogo's help and limped to the gathered captives, Maria at my side.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I began, Maria translating my words, "you so generously displayed the bodies of my women. I do not mourn them. Their deaths were beneath my notice. This culling and burning is a matter of principle. You took what was mine; now I take yours. Your women will birth my horde."

Cheers erupted from my riders as I continued. "Your men will be castrated and sent to Vaes Dothrak. Remember, you killed three women less important to me than my horse, and for that, your city lies in ruin."

Turning to Maria, I ordered, "Claim three hundred women for me, one hundred for each of my blood riders, and let the rest go to the men. Keep the artisans and blacksmiths alive. We'll need them. Doromon, take me to the largest mance. Tonight, I will be with my women there."

As Maria relayed my commands, Doromon laughed, a giant of a man with a sturdy frame. He hefted a particularly robust woman over his shoulder and led the way.

Aftermath

The city of Qohor burned, its once-proud walls reduced to rubble. The priests of the Black Goat met grisly ends, their blood pooling in the streets. Among the nobles, one man watched in horror from a cage in the center of the ruined city. His family, his wealth, his legacy—all had been stripped away.

"They were just women," he whispered, his voice breaking. Tears streamed down his face as he watched his son's throat slit without hesitation by a Dothraki warrior painted in gray. His daughter, her silver-blonde hair gleaming in the firelight, was chosen and led away. His wife followed, her sobs drowned by the cheers of the horde.

The man's eyes turned to the toppled statue of the Black Goat. The priests, some attempting sorcery, had been cut down or burned alive. Even the high priest, though he fought fiercely, was ultimately bound and decapitated. His headless body was thrown into the flames as the Dothraki laughed.

For hours, the destruction continued. Noblemen were slaughtered or castrated, the latter sent to Vaes Dothrak. The man in the cage knew his fate awaited but not when. All he could do was watch as the city's story ended in blood and fire.

Back in the Qohorik palace

Doromon led me to what seemed to be a grand chamber in the Qohorik palace. Initially, I thought he grabbed the woman simply for his own indulgence, but it turned out she was a maid familiar with the castle's layout. Whether she would still serve his desires was another matter entirely.

The room of the Qohorik—leader of the city—was a sight to behold: a bed large enough for ten people, a bathing area more akin to a pool, and a balcony overlooking the sea. Limping inside, I discarded my headgear, necklace, and trophies onto a nearby desk. Carefully, I cut off my leather pants to avoid disturbing the splint on my leg.

The room was divided into distinct sections: a bathing area, sleeping quarters, and the balcony. I made my way to the bathing area and eased myself into the warm, scented water. My leg, strained from the day's exertions, finally relaxed. Blood and dirt washed off as I submerged myself beneath the surface. Emerging a few moments later, I reached for the nearby arak and dagger, resting my hands on the pool's edge as I listened.

Footsteps approached—light, definitely not Doromon's. Maria entered, accompanied by four women. One of them I recognized: a dark-skinned girl with curly brown hair, black eyes, and a figure that tested her leather skirt. Her hips and ass drew attention naturally.

The other three were pale-skinned. One was a blonde, around sixteen or seventeen, with striking blue eyes and a chest that could suffocate a lesser man. Another, slightly tanned with freckles on her cheeks, had curves that bordered on indulgent: a large chest, bigger ass, and wide hips. The last woman had platinum blonde hair and black eyes tinged with violet, her slim, elf-like figure marked by smaller breasts and wide hips.

Maria, with her bronze skin, black hair, and brown eyes, stood out as always. Her breasts defied gravity, and her firm thighs had served as my pillows for months. She removed her leather tube top, revealing her perky peaks and toned abs. Slowly, she slid off her skirt, bending over deliberately to reveal her nakedness. The sight stirred something primal in me, and the waters rippled in response.

She walked into the pool, turning back to address the other women. "Take your clothes off. The Khal has requested your presence," she commanded in both Dothraki and another language.

The four women obeyed, stripping away their garments to reveal an array of colorful pubic hair and various body types. Maria approached, her sensual voice close to my ear. "My Khal, how may I serve you tonight?"

I pulled her close, kissing her deeply, my rough hands gripping her firm ass. Breaking the kiss, I adjusted her onto my lap. She felt my arousal beneath her and guided me inside her. Slowly, she lowered herself onto me, her moan filling the room as she began to ride. The water splashed around us as she moved with increasing intensity.

Looking to the other women, I commanded, "Names."

The dark-skinned girl responded first. "Riena, my Khal." She moved closer.

The redhead followed, her freckled skin catching the light. "Ayana, my Khal."

The blue-eyed blonde spoke next. "Diana, my Khal."

Finally, the platinum-haired woman said, "Helena, my Khal," taking her place on the far side.

Maria, focused on our rhythm, began to shudder as her climax approached. Her body tightened around me as she called out in a language I didn't understand. A few thrusts later, I finished inside her, ensuring she took everything before pulling her off.

Without pause, I turned to Riena, bending her over the pool's edge. Her glistening wetness made entry effortless. Her moans grew louder as I gripped her hips and took her with rough, calculated thrusts. Ayana, the redhead, positioned herself beside Riena, her freckled ass a tempting sight. I slid a finger inside her as I continued with Riena, driving her to the brink.

Moments later, Riena convulsed and moaned loudly as she reached her peak. I pulled out and moved to Ayana, entering her without hesitation. She struggled initially, but her resistance faded as pleasure overtook her. Her loud, breathy moans echoed as I drove deeper, pushing her to her limits. When she tried to pull away, I grabbed her by the hair, pulling her back into rhythm until she screamed in release, her body trembling beneath me.

Spent but still aroused, I leaned back in the water as the three women washed themselves and me. Maria, ever attentive, began braiding my hair, her soft kisses gracing my face and neck.

Authors note here

I know the is nothing i hate more paying for shit but i wanna test my luck by starting a p@treon or something and make some spare change and do all the mass writing i can .