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the-dork-urge · 2 months

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|| Sweet Restraint || Tav x Abdirak

SUMMARY: Adbirak has been on Tav's mind ever since the Goblin Camp. Now, when they reunite, Tav is fully prepared to ''torture'' him in turn. WORDCOUNT : 2218 NSFW

Abdirak reclined in the tub, his arms leisurely resting on the sides, his finger tracing circles along the edge. The water gently caressed his body, creating delicate ripples as Tav lifted the sponge once more. With tenderness, she placed one hand on his shoulder, while the other moved the sponge over his back, delicately wiping away the blood from his skin, turning the water a soft pink hue. A soft groan escaped his lips as Tav rinsed his open wounds, his fingers instinctively tightening around the tub.

"We're almost done," She whispered, dropping the sponge back into the bath. Rising to your feet, you moved gracefully to retrieve a towel.

"I'm surprised you still have time for this, for me," he spoke, his eyes gleaming, his face slightly flushed from the hot water. Sitting up straight again, he ran his hands through his hair. A picture of beauty. "The hero of Baldur's Gate, they say throughout the city. Savior of the realm." He mused, his voice low.

"It's hardly hard work.'' Tav blushed, ''We're trying to rebuild the city, but I leave the politics to those who care for it. I mostly stay at the temple, aiding those in need."

"Is that what this is now? Are you aiding me, my sweet heroine?"

"No. This is purely self-indulgent," Tav responded, a playful twinkle in her eye. "Or perhaps, this is how I pay you back for your service; our little moment has been on my mind," she confessed.

"It was hardly a service, for a client as exquisite as you," he pondered aloud, his thoughts drifting back to the last time you were together.

Tav's mind wandered alongside his, reliving the sensations of that unforgettable encounter at the Goblin Camp. The sting of the whip against her skin, the tears in her eyes, and then the exquisite pleasure he bestowed upon her body. Tav could still feel the anticipation building between her legs as his hands explored every inch of her trembling body in his aftercare, igniting a fire that had consumed you both. Memories of that passionate moment sustained Tav through her journey to Baldur's Gate, yet it paled compared to the real thing. It was torture. Loviatar must have been pleased with her priest.

Tav sauntered back to the tub, a towel draped over your arm. Her voice, barely above a whisper, carried a subtle allure as she spoke, "Abdirak, would you mind stepping out of the tub?" His gaze met hers, and with a grace that seemed almost intentional, he rose from the bath. Unabashedly, Tav let her eyes roam over his form. Water droplets cascaded down his strong physique. She couldn't help but look at the scars that adorned his water-kissed body, like intricate markings on a beautiful, tormented sculpture. She extended the towel towards him, and as he reached out to grab it, he allowed his hand to linger on hers, water droplets tickling her skin. As he took the towel from Tav, he stepped closer, the heat radiating from his naked body. The tantalizing scent of soap and musk filled her senses. Tav's heart raced as he leaned in, his lips grazing her earlobe as he whispered a husky "Thank you."

She felt her stuck in her throat and heat rise to her cheeks, she mustered back only two words. "You’re welcome,"

Regaining her composure, she moved past him toward the middle of the room as he began to dry himself off. Tav positioned yourself, turning her back toward him. The fabric of the dress clung to her skin, remnants of the spilled bathwater. With a delicate touch, she began to peel off the dress, the fabric sliding off like a second skin. She could sense his eyes tracing her movements. Each motion was slow and deliberate, revealing tantalizing glimpses of the curves beneath. As the fabric pooled at her feet, she turned around to face him.

His pupils dilated, and a quiet yet appreciative exhale escaped his lips. The intensity in his eyes spoke volumes, revealing a hunger stirred by the provocative display before him. His hands, momentarily forgotten, hovered in the air as if yearning to reach out and trace the same path his eyes had traveled.

She beckoned him to step closer with a subtle curl of her finger. As he closed the distance between them, she spoke, "Remember when I said that if we ever meet again, I'd show you something you'd enjoy? Something your Lady would approve of?"

"Go on," he whispered, letting the towel drop to the floor next to her dress.

"Can we do that now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with anticipation.

"Will I suffer?" he inquired, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

"Oh, yes," she said with a smile, her gaze smoldering with desire, "greatly."

She took a step back, creating an arm's length of space between the two of them.

"I have some rules,’" she said with a mischievous grin, her hands brushing away her hair, exposing the curve of her neck. She let her hands glide from her neck to her chest as she spoke.

"I'm all ears," he replied, his gaze fixed on her with intense curiosity as he stepped closer, drawn in by her mischievous grin and the subtle movements of her hands. "As long as you're willing to play by them," she murmured, her voice a seductive whisper, her hands now trailing down his chest, fingers teasingly tracing patterns over his skin.

His breath caught in his throat, anticipation mingling with excitement as he waited for her rules.

"You can look, but you can't touch. Not me…" you teased, "and not yourself." He nods. Challenge in his eyes. "Let me show you. The agony of desire, the anticipation of something you can't have." A smile played on her lips, as she saw him prepare. Resting his hands, loosely hanging beside his body.

"Very well than." He swallowed.

Her own smile widened as she allowed her left hand to trail down toward her abdomen, then lower to her thigh, while her other hand remained poised at her breast. With a deliberate slowness, she cupped her right breast, gently massaging it as she rolled her nipple between her fingers. She met Abdirak's gaze, finding an amused smile playing on his lips as he watched her other hand settle between her legs. Her gaze trailed from his face, down the sculpted contours of his chest, lingering on the rise and fall of his abdomen, until it settled upon his hardened length. There, between his thighs, stood his arousal, a testament to the desire that pulsed between them. The sight of him, proud and large, sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through her as she started to rub the sweet spot between her legs.

As she imagined the sensation of him inside her, her arousal intensified, fueled by the vivid images playing in her mind. The thought of his size filling her completely, stretching her in all the right ways, spurred her on. With a breathless gasp, she allowed her imagination to take control, slipping a finger inside herself.

She noticed how his cock had grown hard at the sight of her, the fingers in his right hand trembling ever so slightly.

"Your cock looks fantastic," she whimpered, bringing in another finger, "I can only imagine what it could do to me. Can you?"

"Yes," Abdirak breathed, his cock now dully upright, twitching against the silver scars on his belly. "I can imagine it, every filthy detail."

"Tell me. What would you do to me?" she started to pump her fingers inside and out.

Abdirak's breath hitched at the sight of her fingers working themselves inside, a hungry fire burning in his eyes. "I'd take you, hard and fast," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "I'd make you scream my name as I pound into you, claiming every inch of you as mine." His cock throbbed with anticipation, begging to be buried deep inside her, to satisfy the primal hunger that consumed them both. "I'd make you beg for more, over and over again until we're both lost in a frenzy of pleasure."

"Oh, Abdirak," she moaned his name, "that sounds fantastic." Abdirak's response to his name on your lips was a harsh guttural moan, his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

But she wasn't finished with him yet. With a wicked smile, she quickened the pace of her movements, her body trembling with anticipation as she brought herself closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

"You enjoy watching, don't you?" she taunted her voice a sultry whisper that hung in the steamy air. "You want to touch me, to taste me, to make me scream with pleasure."

Abdirak's only response was a guttural moan, his desire evident in the way his body tensed, in the way his cock strained against his belly. He was on the brink of losing control, his restraint slipping away with each passing moment.

"Step closer," she breathed. As she felt her own orgasm coming. She quickly stopped, slipping her finger out. She brought her slick fingers up.

"This is restraint. To stop yourself, even when you can have it all."

"It’s torture." Abdirak winced as that same slick hand found a way to his hard cock. Soft fingetips sliding around his sensitive skin, his thick veins, his wet tip. She slid her thumb over the little bead of cum, spreading his wetness.

"That means you still can't have me yet," she teased, her voice laced with mischief. "You have to earn it, Abdirak. You have to prove to me that you deserve it."

She intended to make him beg for release, to make him crave her touch like never before like she had craved his all these weeks. "You're mine to command, to tease, to torment as I see fit."

Abdirak groaned in frustration, his desire burning brightly despite her denial. He was putty in her hands, completely at her mercy, and she reveled in the power she held over him.

She leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered her next command. "Beg for it," she murmured her voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down his spine. "Beg for release, and maybe, just maybe, I'll grant it to you."

With each stroke and caress, she watched as his arousal grew, his desire evident in the way his breath came in ragged gasps. He longed to reach out and touch her, to taste the sweetness of her skin, but he remained rooted to the spot.

"Stay still like this," she implored, her hands wrapped firmly around his cock, one teasingly pressed against his stomach. With deliberate intent, she teased the tip of his throbbing member against her folds, feeling the yearning for entry pulsating between them. As she held him in place, she could feel the tension in his abs, his muscles straining with the effort to restrain himself from plunging into her. As she held it there a little longer, she sought his eyes. They were piercing back at her, pleading and hazy.

With a desperate edge in his voice, he finally relented, his words coming out in a low, husky plea. "Please," he begged, his voice thick with need. "Please, I need you. I need to feel you, to be inside you. Let me have you." His body strained against her hand, trembling with desire as he yearned for the release she held tantalizingly just out of reach.

She took her hand of his tense abs and settled it near his jaw. She cupped his face with a tight grip. Lips close to his as she said those two words that would release him.

"Fuck me."

His hips bucked upward, responding to her command with primal urgency, as he plunged into her with forceful intensity, his lips crashing against her. Every inch of him was a delicious intrusion, filling her completely as he buried himself deep within her core. She gasped at the sensation, feeling him throbbing with desire inside her, his hardness pulsing against her inner walls. She arched her back into his thrust. His frantic movements and the wet sounds of their damp skin were enough to send her over the edge. But there was no slowing him down now. He buried his hands in the flesh of her ass, claiming every inch of her cunt as he kept rutting inside her. She met his fervent movements with equal intensity, her nails digging into his skin as she held him close.

And then, with a desperate thrust, he drove her over the edge, sending her spiraling into the depths of ecstasy. She cried out his name, her voice echoing through the room as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. Yet still he persisted, his movements relentless as he chased his own release, her knees almost buckling.

Despite her weariness, she summoned the strength to place her hand on his chest, pushing him away. "The edge of ecstasy," she whispered, distancing herself from Abdirak, "that's where I'll leave you."

As he stood there, surrounded by sudden emptiness, his body trembled into nothingness. His breathing was heavy. "You'll want more. And you'll come find me again," she whispered.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #Tav x abdirak #abdirak #abdirak x reader #loviatar

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dmbakura · 3 months

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post penance cuddles

#abdirak #durge #dark urge #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #abdirak x durge #abdirak x tav #ravennart

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francis-writes · 3 months

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How does evening look with them? (SFW)

Including: Nere, Raphael, Cazador, Gortash, Abdirak

Nere

Bad news: as you drink wine, Nere keeps talking about his duties and complaing about his servants and it requires a lot of effort to convince him to focus on lighter topics and to separate work from private life.

Raphael

He is a busy man, you see, and usually he spends a lot of time making deals and plotting schemes. But even fight for power doesn't make him forget about you and he tries to find a few hours for you alone everyday. Usually you relax in the House of Hope, sipping wine and talking about recent events. Sometimes Raphael reads for you or recites some poem.

Gortash

Evening with Gortash can go two ways. Either you relax at home or you engage in some illegal activities, shenanigans and wreaking havoc - for your own entertainment or because of your gods' orders. If you stay at home, you probably just lay on the bed, h*lding h*nds and resting after tiring day of pleasing your deities.

Cazador

You often visit lavish banquets and parties organized by elites of Baldur's Gate so Cazador can establish his social position but that doesn’t mean you don't have fun. He dances with you and whenever he leaves to discuss some political matter, you can easily find other company.

Abdirak

If don't worship your goddess in spare time (yeah, for Abdirak every time is good for some pain), then you just take care of each other’s wounds, cuddle and chat. If you have a hobby then he engages in it or at least observes you. Despite his love for torture, Abdirak is the sweetest caring boyfriend.

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thecampjuicebox · 4 months

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Glorious Suffering

Pairing: Abdirak x Tav(f) x Astarion

Rating: 18+ NSFW, Minors DNI

POV: 2nd person

Warnings: SMUT, sadomasochism, use of objects for hitting, blood, bruising, biting, voyeurism/exhibitionism, orgasm denial, oral, fingering, p in v penetration, minor game spoilers

Trying out a new writing format to put better emphasis on dialogue. Let me know what you guys think!

The stench of blood and unwashed bodies lingers in the air like a thick blanket. It stings in your nostrils - singes the hairs with gut churning ferocity. Putrid. It makes your eyes water. Your stomach turns and bubbles as your breakfast threatens to make a second appearance. The once grand Selunite Outpost has since crumbled to near ruins, the occupation of goblins tainting its beauty and grace in a matter of days. Filthy pests, they are. You turn your head up, eyes watering from the scent as you climb the stone stairs toward a hallway of small rooms. Your group follows close behind reluctantly.

"This place is disgusting." Astarion whines, tip-toeing around small piles of bones and viscera.

Cautious eyes peek around corners. The first room is brightly lit with candles and lanterns, a young man strapped by the wrists and ankles to some sort of torture device. Two goblins swing maces and whips in his direction, shouting obscenities and asking for information. Information the man clearly doesn't seem to have.

"Pathetic. All of them." Shadowheart huffs, turning her nose up at the display with obvious disdain for what she's seen.

"They can't even properly swing a mace to cause actual damage. Lady Shar would be displeased."

Astarion grins at the sight. Excited fingers crawl against the stone brick wall to take hold of it as he leans into the doorway, his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip and trace the sharp points of his fangs.

"Let's stay and watch." The spawn's flirtatious nature can be so insufferable sometimes.

"Astarion, come. We have other business to attend to." Your voice is sharp and stern, seemingly the only way the elf will listen to you.

"You're such a bore." He groans, pulling away from the wall and hooking his index finger into the back of your leathers, giving them a playful tug toward him as he presses close to your behind and mumbles into your pointed ear.

"Doesn't that device look like such fun? We should give it a try once the little green ones have no more use for it."

Your cheeks burn crimson and a disengaging elbow flies out from behind you, connecting with Astarion's abdomen hard enough to force him to let go of your leathers.

"Not now, you tease." With a cough, he puts some distance between the two of you - an insidious grin lingers on his lips.

The second room draws closer and the quiet mumble of a man inside makes your ears perk up. His voice is strained, the occasional sounds of mace to skin ringing through the hall. He cries out, and every hair on your body stands on end. Astarion rounds the corner first, stumbling upon a man with medium build, knelt down in front of one of the rear walls of the room. He stands and turns to your group slowly, eyes falling on you first. His gaze is almost.. Comforting. Silver eyes pierce through you like the sharpest dagger. It nearly knocks the breath straight from your lungs. His chest and abdomen are alarmingly bloodied and bruised, little cuts and scratch marks speckling his skin. Astarion clears his throat once he notices your eyes locked on one another and the human offers a kind smile.

"Greetings, child. I've met few aside from Goblins here. Are you also here to assist with the prisoner?" He questions, motioning toward the room just next door.

You shake your head slowly, averting your gaze to the floor for a moment. Warmth swirls in your belly. He's incredibly handsome, the salt tones in his blonde hair showing his age. His voice is low and raspy and it sends shivers up and down your spine when he speaks - like sweet red wine to your ears. Delicious and intoxicating. His face contorts into a grimace as he crosses his arms over his chest and rests his weight on one foot.

"Hm. While I was thrilled to be invited here, I must confess I find the goblins and their methods.. Crude and primitive." He leans forward at his last word, eyes narrowing toward you. "Pain without purpose is a terrible thing. Wouldn't you agree?"

Your cheeks involuntarily flush that deep shade of crimson that clearly gives you away. He awakens something within you. You'd recognize his garb from miles away. A follower of Loviatar, the Maiden of Pain. The things this man has probably seen. The things he's done. It excites you in a way that's almost embarrassing. A familiar ache pings in your core and you can't help but cross your legs, squeezing your thighs together tightly to dull the desperation. The inherent need. The human before you certainly notices and takes a step closer, inhaling slowly before he speaks. He's toying with you now. He must be. Astarion can smell the growing eagerness in your blood, hear the way your pulse quickens, life force pumping into different parts of you now. He smirks and keeps quiet, but gods, is he painfully aware.

"Forgive me -" The man interjects, pointing directly at you now. You gulp. "but that look in your eyes. Something terrible has happened to you."

You cross your arms over your breasts, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "Clever man. How did you know?"

"Because I see those same eyes when I look in the mirror.. Dear one." His hand reaches out to caress your soft cheek and goosebumps raise by the millions on your skin. "We've all suffered in these.. Dark times. It is little wonder you bear scars of pain and anguish. Please. Let me.. Alleviate this pain."

"What exactly would this entail?" Astarion's voice cuts through your thoughts and your eyes shift to him in disbelief.

"Well, the Maiden of Pain, Loviatar, teaches us that pain is a most powerful and sacred sensation. And, should our pain delight her, she will grant her most sacred of blessings." His hands clench into excited fists in front of him. "If you would permit it, I could show you first hand."

A knot forms in your stomach, twisting and tangling, his words sending jolts of arousal and excitement throughout your entire body like bolts of lightning. This experience would be new, however. The idea of such an act being performed in front of your newly acquired companions, and the man you'd started to have feelings for, makes your brain fuzzy. Gods, they'd for sure say no. Maybe even leave you to find a cure for the wriggling parasite behind your eyes by yourself.

"Sounds like a wonderful show. She accepts." Astarion beams, his eyes fixed on you, scanning up and down as your heartbeat quickens further. "As long as we can stay and watch."

"Surely Shadowheart has some reservations about watching, right?" You ask with an air of desperation that's almost laughable.

She grins and places her hands on her hips, quirking an eyebrow at you. "Lady Shar would frown upon me if I were to miss something as deliciously torturous as this. Go on."

"Oh, I have something exquisite in mind." He rubs his hands together, a devilish grin smeared across his lips. It makes your core ache even more. "Disrobe, face the wall, and we can begin. And by the way.. You may call me Abdirak."

Disrobe? Gods, this was not on your list of things to do today. Kill some goblins? Sure. Save a wildshaped druid from death? Easy. This? This may be the most difficult thing you've ever done. Astarion waves a hand toward you, motioning for you to obey the Servant of Loviatar. Your confidence wavers for a moment. Not only are you about to willingly endure what is essentially torture, now you must do it.. Naked. You gulp and set your backpack down at your feet. First goes your boots, next your leather harness, your head turning to look at Astarion who is enamored by the sight of you slowly undressing, his back pressed against the cold stone wall. Another gulp. How embarrassing.. Shadowheart snickers quietly at your obvious discomfort. Trembling fingers struggle with the laces of your tunic and in a bout of frustration, you quickly tug it over your head. The white linen falls to the floor at your feet, your perky breasts bouncing ever so slightly from the rushed movements. A quiet sigh emits from Abdirak and he quickly looks to his table of various weapons, hand hovering over the selection.

You finally tug your leathers down past your knees, kicking them to the side with reckless abandon just to get it over with. Your lack of underwear earns a barely audible groan from both Astarion and Abdirak alike. Naked and exposed, you shiver, hands resting at your sides.

"Well, go on, darling. Don't be shy."

Astarion's words give you the final push to step forward. You face the wall as instructed and chew at your bottom lip as the human lifts a mace into his hands, turning it over to inspect its condition. A quiet "Yes.. This will do nicely." stoking your fire as you wait. Abdirak approaches you from behind, reaching down to guide your hands toward the wall, foot kicking between your ankles to spread your legs apart. The cold metal of his mace traces along your spine and you shudder, teeth chattering at its frosty bite. You wait with baited breath. Brace for the imminent kiss of pain. Abdirak rears back and lands a blow to your back hard enough to knock an involuntary yelp from your throat. Astarion chews the tip of his thumb, his right hand lowering to the front of his leathers to palm at his growing erection. The half elf stood close beside him eyes him carefully, and then you, arms crossing over her chest now, completely unamused.

"The pain you suffer will cleanse you. Do not fight it."

A loud sob follows Abdirak's words as you process the pain, blood trickling from a new gash on your skin. You beg for mercy, plead for the pain to stop, your knees nearly buckling beneath you. But this is only the first blow, there is so much more to come. Somewhere deep down inside, you're enjoying this. Your companions watching as you stand there, completely vulnerable, bloodied and bruised. Open to the elements and whomever wanted a taste. The human licks his lips.

"Your voice sounds so sweet, dear one. Keep going."

"Don't wear her out entirely, priest. We may have use for her yet." Shadowheart grins, eyes narrowing on your trembling frame.

Her mocking tone and underlying breathiness strikes an interesting chord with you. Exciting. Stimulating. Blood pumps in your ears - a deafening drum beat that only you can hear. You sway your hips to the rhythm and Astarion chews at his bottom lip, ready to pounce. Hunger burns in his stomach. Emptiness. Even though he'd fed on you just hours before, his mouth salivates like he's positively starved. He intends to devour you in one way or another.

Your tormentor rears back to land another blow, this time to your ass, and it nearly knocks you forward into the wall. You grit your teeth and stifle a scream and Astarion groans at your strained noises. He's enjoying this almost as much as you are, you're just much better at hiding it. Arousal soaks your folds. Your walls flutter around nothing and you chew your bottom lip to stifle a moan as Abdirak lands a third blow against your thigh. Nails dig into the stone bricks, almost bloodying your fingers. Gods, you want more. Need more. Abdirak takes a step back to admire his work, rubbing the tip of the mace up your inner thigh, dangerously close to your cunt. You whimper and he quirks an eyebrow. In a sudden change of mind, he swaps the mace for a paddle, little circles cut from the wood to increase the sensations. A quick smack earns a loud cry from your lips.

"That's it, dear one! Let Loviatar hear you!"

"Not the worst technique, priest. Good wrist movement. Lots of.. Enthusiasm." Shadowheart interjects again plainly.

Astarion continues to palm at his cock as he watches, eyes fixed solely on you. The way your blood bubbles up and trickles over your flesh. The scent of your arousal. It's the sweetest perfume and he can hardly control himself.

"You're being so good for him, darling. Keep going."

The vampire spawn's voice is breathy and low. You moan just from his words and Abdirak lands another smack to your opposite ass cheek, a large red print immediately surfacing and swelling on your skin. "Fuck!" You cry loudly. Tears sting in the corners of your eyes. The human grins and sets the paddle down, moving behind you to trace his fingers over each bruise, cut, and mark he'd left. Little trophies of devotion. His goddess will be pleased. You shiver at the contact of his fingers.

"Sweet child.. You bore the pain like a true believer. I am proud to have served you this penance."

"Th-Thank you.." You muster quietly, bottom lip still trembling at the threat of tears. "I enjoyed myself."

Abdirak tilts his head back and sighs heavily, one hand reaching down to trace over your bruises once more. His cock throbs beneath his garb and he presses a free hand into it, groaning at the friction.

"As did I, dear one. Loviatar herself found your performance.. inspiring."

He grins and steps to your side, leaning close to your ear. His breath is warm and smells of a metal. More goosebumps speckle your skin as he presses his lips to your pointed ear and whispers quietly.

"And on a personal note.. Thank you. That was positively divine. This doesn't have to be the end, however. You've proven yourself perfectly capable of accepting such exquisite pleasure. I'd love to show you so much more."

"She'd love that. May I assist?" Astarion murmurs, approaching the two of you with confidence.

Normally you'd be incredibly irritated by the vampire spawn speaking for you, but now, Gods you couldn't be more grateful. A cold hand cups your cunt suddenly and you jolt at the sensation, back arching forward as Astarion's middle finger presses just barely into your folds and against your clit.

"Mm. She's so wet for us."

Sharp teeth just barely pierce your shoulder, a sensation you've become all too used to ever since you discovered the pale elf's affliction. You'd let him feed on you when it was needed, and sometimes purely because you enjoyed how he'd hold you close to him. How he'd savor your taste and lick your skin clean. His sweet words of encouragement as he'd bite into another place. And the way he'd talk you through the dizziness once he was finished. Your brain whirs with arousal as Astarion coos quietly against your skin and presses little kisses to the now bleeding spot. He drags his fangs over your flesh with torturous slowness, exhaling heavily at the salty taste of your sweat and blood combined. The finger pressed to your clit begins moving in circles and you nearly fall apart right there. Your legs tremble. Toes curl against the stone beneath your feet. Abdirak picks up the paddle once more and eyes Astarion. They exchange a glance of approval and the paddle makes fiery contact with your skin once more, over the same swollen spot it had assaulted before.

A mix of pain and pleasure courses through every vein in your body and your vision goes white. You could cum at any moment. Another smack. And another. And another. Astarion lowers his hand from your cunt, landing a smack of his own against your folds and your knees nearly give out at the force.

"Gods, please.." you whimper loudly, head falling between your shoulders.

"Yes, beg for it, dear one. You're doing so well for us."

"What a good girl you are, darling."

Their combined praises is enough to push you over the edge, but you hold on tightly. You can't cum. Not yet. Astarion's fingers circle around your slick soaked slit, playing with the clear sticky fluid for a moment. One digit slides inside first and you whine loudly, hips pushing back against him.

"M-more.." you beg.

A second finger slides inside and stretches your entrance ever so slightly, the cold digits pressing firmly into that spongey spot that could stop your heart.

"More!" You cry, and both men behind you grin at your desperation.

Abdirak slides his index finger into his mouth to soak it with his spit before lowering it between your thighs, forcing it inside of you atop Astarion's hooked fingers. The stretch burns in the most delicious of ways.

"Please.. Please more.."

A second finger of Abdirak's slides inside and finally you're sated, hips bucking back against their hands rhythmically. Astarion kneels down and sinks his teeth into your left ass cheek, blood trickling from the flesh and down his chin as he sups of your nectar, his eyes rolling back in his skull. He can taste your orgasm building. Your arousal and desperation. Your every need and want. His fingers pump in and out of you with bruising speed and Abdirak follows suit, his free hand reaching around the front of your waist to pinch your clit between his thumb and index. He rolls the sensitive, swollen bud between his fingers and presses sloppy, open mouthed kisses down your bloodied ass and thigh, savoring the metallic tang of your blood and the sweetness of your sweat. A delectable treat for all of his senses. Your moans grow louder and louder, jaw hung open and drool falling from your mouth in a steady stream. An eager hand reaches up to shove itself into your mouth and cover itself in your spit before moving back to your clit, spreading the wetness around.

The knot in your belly grows tighter and tighter, wound like a bow string, and you squeeze your eyes shut at the near painful overstimulation of your slit. Still the fingers work furiously against your walls.

"I'm gonna - I need to - Gods please!"

"Ah ah ah, use your words, darling. What do you need?"

The spawn drags his tongue over the globe of your ass to clean the remainder of blood from your skin. A quiet groan escapes his lips and he stands again, free hand taking hold of your hair to stand you fully upright.

"I need to cum.. I'm gonna -"

Just as you're about to topple over the edge, both sets of fingers are pulled from your cunt, a thick rope of slick still connecting you with the two men standing behind you. You keen at the emptiness. Your walls squeeze and contract around nothing. Abdirak lands a hot smack against your clit, and then another, and another, grinning as you sob loudly at the strikes. His pulls his hand away reluctantly, slipping his slick covered digits into his mouth to suck them clean. Astarion flashes him a toothy grin.

"N-no please.. Please!"

All you can muster are pathetic pleas and raspy whines, your feet stomping in frustration against the dirty stone beneath you. Astarion's fingers wrap themselves around your throat from behind and yank your back against his front, the threat of his angry erection rubbing back and forth against your bruised ass. You're fully exposed. Vulnerable. Writhing and crying for release. Such a beautiful sight to the vampire spawn and the servant of Loviatar. This is torture.

"Shadowheart, my dear. Are you sure you're not interested in some fun?"

"I'd much prefer to watch, thank you."

The half elf smirks and leans against the wall, eyes scanning over the scene just a few feet away. Her eyes narrow on you and you can feel her gaze burning holes into the back of your head. Does she approve? Do you even care? Skilled fingers work the front of Astarion's leathers open and his cock springs up and out, a soft slap against your ass startling you from the heavy daze filling your head. Your brain feels like cold snow slush. Your legs are weak, growing weaker by the second as Astarion rubs the tip of his weeping cock against your hungry slit. You nearly pull him right in and he hisses at the tightness. The invitation. Abdirak lowers himself to his knees in front of you, both hands finding purchase on your hips to keep himself steady. Gentle kisses pepper your abdomen, hip bones, and your stubbly mound, a shiver running up your your spine at the warmth of his breath against your sex. You wiggle your hips, both to tease the vampire spawn behind you, and to beckon the human's lips toward the spot you need him most.

Without warning, Astarion slips inside. His size surprises you. The delicious burn of the stretch, how he's nearly in your guts before bottoming out. Gods, he's huge. A careful push of the hips nestles him fully inside and he waits there for a moment.

"By the nine hells, you're tight.." He murmurs, lips pressed tightly to your ear now.

Abdirak's tongue flattens against your clit and he lifts his head to slide it up and over your mound, repeating this same movement to go back down. His strokes are slow and calculated. The combination of sensations makes your legs tremble like leaves in the winter air, and your hands fly down to tangle in the human's hair and guide his head. With a tut, Astarion reaches around to quickly grasp your wrists and yank them behind your back - you're pinned in place, forced to submit to his quickening thrusts and the skilled swirling of Abdirak's tongue. Your frame bends forward just slightly at the force of the spawn's thrusts, your legs spreading further apart instinctively. Again, that familiar knot twists and tightens in your belly and surely you'll cum at any moment. Astarion's free hand moves your hair away from the side of your neck to expose the still-healing bite marks from just the night before. He lines his fangs up perfectly re-open the wounds and you hiss at the sting. Like shards of ice in your veins. Overcome by pleasure and blood loss, your vision goes fuzzy. Drool drips from your lips and down your chin. Positively cock drunk.

Not even a soft moan is able to escape now. Only heavy exhales and gasps making your lungs burn and your throat raw. Abdirak's tongue works with surprising artistry against your clit still, lips sucking and tugging at the bundle of nerves to earn any sounds he possibly can from you. The loud slap of skin against skin rings throughout the stone room. Surely the rest of the outpost could hear you. You're surprised you don't have an audience gathered in the door way, watching the way you're being devoured and fucked into oblivion. The vampire spawns teeth leave your neck with a soft slurp sucking the last little drops of your blood through the puncture wounds, his tongue swirling around his lips and teeth to collect the remnants. Astarion's thrusts begin to lose their rhythm and you can't help but grin as his cock twitches erratically inside of you. Abdirak quickly releases your clit from his swollen lips, ducking his head further to use his tongue on Astarion now. The tip of the human's tongue traces the furry outline of the vampire spawns sack before sucking one ball into his warm mouth, massaging it in his jaw. The he switches, and the primal growl that escapes Astarion makes your heart flutter.

"Fuck, I'm cumming! Oh gods, I'm cumming!" He groans loudly, nails digging harshly into the plush meat of your hips as he quickly pulls himself from your constricting walls and spills his seed onto the small of your back.

Your end draws near, Abdirak's fingers finding their way into your cunt with impressive speed. They hook forward into that perfect spot and you cry out loud, finally able to make some sort of noise. The spawn behind you rubs his softening cock against your ass, keeping a tight grip on your arms behind your back still. Quiet squelches and slurps from the human between your thighs make you grin. Disgusting. Cold hands keep a careful grip on your trembling body. One restraining your hands, the other wrapped tightly around your throat now, playing with the pressure against your arteries. First a soft squeeze. Then it builds, and your hearing muffles. Black spots invade your vision. The spawn releases, and all of it comes rushing back. You gasp loudly for air, lungs on fire. Playfully, he repeats this again and again - bringing you to the brink of unconsciousness then quickly yanking you back. Soft coos and words of praise work you up to your climax.

"Such a good girl. So obedient. You like that, don't you? You like when I tell you how good you are?"

You nod in agreeance, unable to speak. Words feel foreign on your tongue. Your mouth is dry now, like you've filled it with linen. Still your end builds. Loud cries, sobs, and screams alert all of Faerun of your pleasure. You should be embarrassed. Ashamed, even. But you couldn't care less. Not now. You nearly topple over the precipice of pure ecstasy when suddenly.. The feeling disappears. Abdirak moves back from his original spot. Your cunt aches. Empty. A soft whimper escapes you and your head falls back against Astarion's broad shoulder.

"You thought we were going to let you cum? Little love.. How naïve."

His words sting like bees. Little Love. The degradation should upset you. Should ruin whatever arousal you have left. But it doesn't. If anything, it adds oil to the fire. You're more wet than ever. Heat rises in your ears and the tips turn a bright red, your fists balling up behind you in frustration as you try and wiggle out of his grasp. Through gritted teeth, you growl. A pathetic performance, on your part. Abdirak stands before you and circles his index finger over both of your nipples, smirking at you with half lidded eyes as each one perks up.

The half elf across the room giggles in amusement.

"Positively cruel."

"Patience, dear one.. You'll meet your end soon enough."

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #abdirak #abdirak smut #abdirak x tav #astarion #shadowheart #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion x tav x abdirak

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bearhugsandshrugs · 3 months

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The Intimacy of Pain: Abdirak/Tav

AO3 Link | Tags:

“You look troubled, dear one”, Abdirak sighed as Tav walked past him towards her quarters in the Elfsong. Ever since she’d saved the Grove from the impending attack, Abdirak had followed her little group of misfits around, mostly keeping to himself except for the occasional philosophical chats with Halsin or Shadowheart.

Tav gave him a small smile. She liked the weird priest, had liked him ever since he’d hit her with a mace in front of her companions until she sobbed. He had an intriguing gentleness about him, mixed with something vicious she longed to explore.

“It’s been a rough day – or tenday, I should say”, she chuckled, watching the corners of Abdirak’s mouth curl into a smile.

“Pain is best experienced in company, dear one”, he offered, “I’d be honored to provide relief.”

She considered the offer, wetting her lips subconsciously while she thought about getting hurt by his strong hands. Over the past tendays she had laid in bed many times remembering the flashes of pain and the showers of praise that had followed, and more than a few times she had stroked and rubbed herself to completion while sinking deeper into those memories.

“Why not”, Tav smirked, meeting Abdirak’s eyes, and his pupils dilated for a fraction of a second as he took in her teasing gaze. Without another word he pulled her into his room by her wrist.

“We shall begin by casting our worship in private”, he exhaled, murmuring a prayer through intricate gestures. Tav felt the silence spell take hold, isolating their room from the rest of the busy tavern. All sounds outside their room died down as a barrier extended between them and the rest, their voices contained and safe from listening in. Next, Abdirak reached to lock the door, silently waiting on Tav to nod in approval before he turned the key in the door.

“Wonderful”, he beamed. He slowly walked around Tav, looking her up and down before he took a few steps back, clasping his hands behind his back. “Dear one: The last time you allowed me to worship Loviatar through your body you were accompanied by your friends. I would like to suggest a more… intimate way to experience pain, if you allowed me to.” He spoke eagerly and softly into the room, his gaze burning itself into her vision. Tav felt her body react to his intensity already, her heart beating faster and faster as the meaning of his words sunk in. “Or, we could repeat your previous worship, should you prefer.”

That day in the goblin camp still was fresh on her mind. The way his mace had carved itself into her skin. Her sobs and cries, and the relief that had washed over her, bordering so close to pleasure she’d left with soaked underwear and a bright blush.

“Intimate sounds good”, she agreed hoarsely, watching Abdirak’s smile widen at her agreement.

“Good, good”, he beamed. “Please undress.”

Tav’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought he’d get to the point quite this fast, but… she didn’t mind. Taking off her clothes did not take long, and she sat everything down on a side drawer, folded neatly into small stacks.

“Completely, please”, Abdirak scolded her gently, and Tav blushed as she stepped out of her underwear, standing before him completely naked.

“Beautiful”, the priest murmured. He took a step towards her and let his gaze fall over her tired body, bruised already from a fight two days prior. Tenderly but firmly he ran a hand over a large bruise on her upper left arm, pressing down until he heard Tav suck in a sharp breath. His mouth curled into a smile again. “Beautiful”, he repeated.

“What’s next?”, Tav whispered. She wasn’t sure why she had lowered her voice, especially when no one could hear her, but she felt a sort of tension and anticipation build in her lower belly that made talking difficult.

Abdirak moved across the room and pulled out a chair, turning it so its backrest was facing Tav. “Lean forward, rest your arms on the edge, and spread your legs, my dear”, he instructed her. Tav was eager to comply. She stood exactly as he’d asked her, propping her upper body up on her stretched out arms that rested on the edge of the backrest of the chair, her legs wide and open.

“Loviatar, bear witness to your children taking comfort in the pleasure of pain”, Abdirak roared through the room, and for the first time that night Tav was relieved that no one could hear them.

The second time came when she cried out as a flog hit her ass cheek unexpectedly.

“That’s it, dear one”, Abdirak sighed. “What a marvelous start.”

He hit her again, the leather straps snapping against her soft skin, and she hissed at the sensation. Again, and this time a whimper mixed into her exhale. Again, and she let out a small sob. Again, and she noticed she was wet, the pain deliciously tugging at her core, swelling her folds and slicking her entrance.

Abdirak hit her with dedication and precision, switching between her ass and upper thighs. Each time his flog hit her, a spark shot through her body, but each time he stopped to caress her reddened skin with a soft drag of the leather against her flesh, a moan formed on her lips.

“Yes”, he said hoarsely, his voice thick with arousal. “Embrace it.” The flog came down so hard that she screamed, her hands gripping the chair so tightly her knuckles turned white.

She heard him moan through her scream, chuckling in delight immediately after.

“Dear one”, he groaned, “turn the chair towards us and sit down.”

Sit down? Tav bit her lip and did as she was told, groaning softly as soon as she put her weight on her sensitive and flogged parts. Abdirak licked his lips as he saw her, then knelt down in front of her, pushing her legs apart.

“Wet like the cheeks of a lover's heartbroken face”, he said with reverence, reaching between her legs to spread her folds open with his hands. “Touch yourself. Feel yourself”, he groaned.

Tav tentatively reached down to her cunt and dragged her fingers through her wetness, eliciting a soft sigh from Abdirak. When her fingers settled on her clit she gasped, shocked at how needy she felt. The priest pushed her legs even further apart and leaned in, bringing his mouth to her folds and fingers, licking broad strokes to lap up her juices.

“Gods”, Tav moaned out, hit so suddenly by the sensation that she had no time to think, her hips jerking into Abdirak’s face with need. His tongue circled her clit along with her fingers, then trailed down, and his hands pulled her waist forward so she sat at the edge of the chair, allowing for better access. When he pushed his tongue into her cunt she moaned, louder this time, and down between her legs, Abdirakt sighed.

She was close, so close. Her chest burned warmly, the skin on her thighs and ass cheeks rubbed painfully against the chair, and her clit throbbed under her own ministrations. But when her legs started to tremble, her body about to fall over the edge, Abdirak pulled away and at her wrists, holding her hands far away from her core.

“N-No”, Tav begged, batting her eyelids open that had fallen shut a moment ago. “Please.”

“Tell me, dear one”, Abdirak asked as if the most mundane thing in the world had just happened, “Do you prefer worship through your breasts, or your behind?”

“I— what?” Tav stared at him, mouth hanging open, confused. When he didn’t reply and just waited for her to choose, she swallowed. “B-breasts”, she stammered. They felt unattended, and she longed for him to hurt them.

“Marvelous”, Abdirak moaned, “simply marvelous.” Tav got the feeling that this would have been the reaction for either choice, but she chuckled nevertheless, grateful for the brief moment of distraction while her cunt was begging for attention so she could climb back up the edge.

“Onto the bed, on your back, if you please”, Abdirak murmured, standing up to loosen his belt. Tav followed his instructions, lying down only to feel her sensitive skin rub uncomfortably against the bedsheets, and she realized he was continuously picking positions that would force her to endure the discomfort.

It didn’t take long until he was undressed, and Tav swallowed at the sight of his naked body. He was lean, with strong, soft muscles flexing throughout, but then, between his legs, stood the largest and girthiest cock she’d seen in years, if not ever. Hard already it was easy to tell how far his length would push into her, how wide his girth would stretch her. Heat washed over her chest in response, and she let her head fall back onto the pillow, trying to hide her blush.

Abdirak climbed up onto the bed to join her, pushing her legs apart once more with his hands until he nodded with approval at how open she was for him. He placed something on the bed next to him, but Tav couldn’t make out what it was.

“Pain is an intimate thing, wouldn’t you say?”, he repeated the question he had asked her at the goblin camp, but before she could answer he smacked his flat hand against her clit, making her yelp out a moan.

“Fuck–”, Tav groaned in response, but she couldn’t say more as he hit her another time, pushing his tip against her entrance. “Fuck”, she breathed out, her cunt eagerly clenching around the small portion of his cock that was already pushed in. Abdirak took his time to work himself into her, switching between slapping her cunt and pushing his cock further in, and Tav was panting heavily when he was finally buried inside of her.

“Oh, dear one”, he moaned, “You are so beautifully pleasurable. Exquisite. Simply exquisite.”

Tav rolled her hips into him, pulling out another moan from the priest. “Gods, you feel amazing”, she sighed, clamping down on his length that was deliciously stretching her walls while she accommodated him.

“You made an excellent choice”, Abdirak murmured as he picked up the items he had sat aside, and Tav finally saw that they were nipple clamps. She’d never used them, but the sight alone made her clit twitch, and she swallowed with anticipation as he leaned over and put them on her tits. Sweet pain shot through her in an instant, and a slew of moans and whimpers escaped her throat as the priest started rolling his hips, thrusting into her in earnest.

His cock brushed against a particularly sensitive spot again and again, taking Tav’s breath away as she laid there with her hands desperately holding onto his shoulders, unable to comprehend all of the sensations: The soft pain on her back, the sharp, throbbing pain on her tits, the sweet, subsiding pain in her clit, and the way her slicked up cunt felt full and fuller the more he pounded into her.

Abdirak moaned praise after praise for her, telling her how good she was taking the pain, taking him, how good she felt, how proud he was of her, how much he worshiped her. Tav rushed to the edge again, feeling her walls tighten around him. Only a few thrusts more–

Her vision blackened around the edges when she came, a loud moan as her back arched, and just when her muscles contracted around Abdirak’s large cock did he loosen the nipple clamps. Another, different shade of pain mixed in with the pleasure, and she cried out a curse so loudly her throat ached as her orgasm extended, drowning in pleasure and pain alike.

Abdirak stared down at her in awe, breathing heavily, not having stopped any of his movements. Just when she was finished and the waves of pleasure and pain slowly subsided did he stop watching her and closed his eyes, and let himself go until his hips jerked into her, his cock twitching as he spilled himself in her with a loud and vulgar moan.

“By Loviatar”, he sighed once his body calmed down. “What a truly divine experience this has been.”

Tav couldn’t help but agree. He was right. It had been divine. And it remained divine when he pulled out of her, wiped them both clean, and then tended to her body with warm water and soothing tinctures. He gently massaged salves into her sensitive skin. His strong arms held her tightly for minutes after, caressing her, providing for her, until she started stirring and chuckling, fully recovered from the entire ordeal.

“Thank you, dear one, for this most enjoyable experience”, he murmured into her hair, gently stroking her head.

“No, thank you”, Tav replied. “I… would love to do it again.”

Abdirak let out a small hum of approval. “So would I, dear one. So would I.”

#abdirak #abdirak x tav #bg3 smut #my writing #this was supposed to be a drabble lol #anyway enjoy

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savs-creates · 9 days

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Gotta love that weird priest 😏

#art #digital art #drawing #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate tav #bg3 #tiefling #astarion #abdirak #priest of loviatar #goblin camp #astarion ancunin #astarion fanart #astarion x tav #astarion baldurs gate #astarion bg3 #tiefling tav

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mochi-han · 1 month

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i missed drawing abdirak

#wip #abdirak #bg3 abdirak #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanart #tav #abdirak x tav #bg3 tav #fanart #my art

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cringecannon · 8 months

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horny abdirak please im on my knees begging you pretty please with a cherry on top im so fucking mad we only get one scene with the most sane bdsm enjoyer in the game i want more about him

Larian, love them to death, is spitting on me personally by 1. no Abdirak aftercare scene and 2. no meeting up with him again in act 3. I am here to fix both of these things.

Abdirak, as much as he savored your first scene together, has a few regrets. The audience, for one. Cracking jokes, disrespecting the sanctity of the experience. The second regret is letting you walk off afterward without helping you come down. It was completely irresponsible of him. Even in a den of depravity like the goblin camp, he should've at least offered you a drink, or checked in again before you left.

He's thrilled when you enter his temple of Loviatar, alone this time. The goddess of agony herself has blessed him with the chance to right his past wrongs, and he won't squander this opportunity. He drafts a contract, letting you take your time as you fidget and glance away while trying to explain what you'd like him to do to you. It's endearing. You both sign at the bottom, and he leads you to a private chamber.

Stripped bare, you're bent at the waist and pulled tight over a wooden bench. Abdirak skims his fingertips down your back, goosebumps following in his wake. He slips two fingers between the black leather strips holding you down, letting out a pleased hum. His hand moves lower, tracing the curve of your ass. Are you ready, dearest? You nod, but you're not prepared for the pure brutality of the studded paddle. Your throat strains as you scream through the gag, all of your muscles tensing. He touches your hip gently, asking if you wish to continue. Your frantic nodding and moaning as you stand on your toes to push your ass out further delights him. A grin splits his face as he raises his arm to strike again.

Afterwards, when your ass is thoroughly bruised with thin rivulets of blood running down the back of your legs, he carefully unties you and praises you softly while he helps you to your feet. Your entire body trembles as he helps you into an adjoining room, gently laying you on a soft bed. He retrieves a healing potion, uncorking it and dribbling the liquid onto the aggravated skin. He works it in with his hand, nodding sympathetically when you whine and arch your back. You did so well, dearest. You're quickly becoming his favorite play partner. Loviatar herself would be proud of you. Rest as long as you need. He'll be here for you when you're ready.

#abdirak x reader #abdirak x tav #.abdirak #.bg3 #notsfw

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bg3scenarios · 5 months

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Abdirak: Welcome, my child, to a world of prayer

Barbarian Tav: So, you’re gonna hit me, right?

Barbarian Tav: Like, beat the shit outta me?

Barbarian Tav: Like, just absolutely rip me open?

Abdirak: Yes, dear one. In the name of Loviatar

Abdirak, aside, giggling: This is going to be so fucking fun

#abdirak #abdirak x tav #tav #bg3 tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #tav x abdirak #barbarian

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zhemariart · 2 months

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When you already know your future boyfriend's bad habits, and gotta look out for him :B

First try at more proper-ish looking comic, went better than hoped for ouo/

Xarmir is my main silly little Tav :B Feat. a lil Therai

#BG3 #Baldur's Gate 3 #Halsin x Tav #Halsin #I know Abdirak uses a mace and not a whip #let me have this in peace #because I first realized it was a mace after I had gotten the idea #*wheeze*#technically there's a part 1 to this #but I haven't made that one yet #lel :B #really need to train drawing Halsin #OC: Xarmir

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m-u-n-c-h-y · 7 months

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Larian: *Creates far more complex, healthy, and attractive romance options for my Tav*

Me: Haha bdsm!cleric/gambling!cleric go brrrrrrrrr

#bg3 #balder's gate 3 #abdirak #bg3 tav #tav #tav x abdirak #outis the risky #outirak #if you will #tw #blood #bruises #tw bruising #I am posting this at 1am cause this is clearly not safe for tumblr #or at the very least touches the line #also outis and abdirak have a very complicated relationship but also it's funny to make them insufferable #my art #got the munchy's?

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the-dork-urge · 2 months

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I am taking requests!

Hey guys I am taking requests now for basically anything BG3 related.

Shoot me a message / ask and I'll see what I can do

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 tav #bg3 zevlor #raphael #astarion #halsin #gale #x reader #bg3 #zevlor #zevlor x reader #abdirak #x you #character x reader #rugan #rolan #bg3 gortash #gortash

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galesleftearring · 6 months

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How sweet agony can be

Abdirak x Tav, Gale x Tav (no relationship, just yearning) VERY 18+

Larkspur, a half elf cleric of Ilmater, wants to explore the connections of her religion and the worship of Loviatar, two gods long established as enemies but with some very similar characteristics. Meeting Abdirak in the Goblin Camp gives her an opportunity to explore this dynamic in ways she couldn't quite anticipate. But back at camp, there's someone she can't totally get off of her mind... someone she can't help but compare this experience to, wondering how he would touch her instead.

Content Warning: bdsm (all of this with verbal and negotiated consent!!!!), physical restraint, whipping, nipple/clit torture, mentions of birth control, alcohol, sadomasochism, religious discussion as foreplay (and much more), m!dom f!sub, mixed feelings after sex, exploring kink and sex isn't always completely fun and that's okay!, casual sex/hookup, emotionless/loveless sex, injuries/bruising after sex, if I missed anything else please let me know!

Larkspur was no stranger to pain. As a cleric of Ilmater, her worship had involved a fair share of pain, both her own and that of others. She was no stranger to worshippers of Loviatar, and their cruel practices. She was no stranger to the divine rivalry between the two gods and their orders to undermine the work of the other, in whatever way necessary. Still, she was fascinated by Loviatar worshippers, fascinated by their love of pain and devotion to it. In a strange way, it felt like a perversion of her own devotion to alleviating pain. Perhaps the two gods needed each other for balance, for order. At the very least, they needed each other to continue their respective holy missions.

Meeting Abdirak in the goblin camp had been a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. She had long wished to speak in depth to a worshipper of the pain goddess, hoping for an intellectual discussion of their respective religions and an attempt to find some common ground. Abdirak was more than willing to share his knowledge and experience with Loviatar with the party, though Karlach and Odile were less interested than Larkspur herself. Karlach laughed, excited to see the spectacle, but did not offer up her own body. Not that Larkspur would have allowed her to. Gale... Gale seemed a bit horrified, if fascinated. "Your hide, your choice," he shrugged. "Not quite my cup of tea though." He always relished an opportunity to learn. Larkspur did too--she liked that about him. He seemed like a kindred spirit, though he was still closed off in many ways.

Larkspur knew that she was the only member of the party who would be willing to suffer at Abdirak's hands. Not only that, but she felt it was her duty to do so; no other member of her party would feel the pain if she could take it upon herself. Ilmater guide her, but she hoped this exercise would draw her closer to her God--or at least closer to an enlightened understanding of Loviatar. Each swing of Abdirak's mace fell harder on her back. The pain was almost unbearable, only made bearable through the whispered prayers she offered to Ilmater with each shuddering breath. She moaned, she whimpered, she cried out--but she did not move. The mace slammed into her three times, and Abdirak's swings were accompanied by praise. Praise to Loviatar, yes, but also praise to Larkspur herself. If she didn't know any better, he almost sounded... aroused. With the third strike, she felt as if she would pass out, her silent prayers turning from a deliberate recitation to an unintelligible plea. Abdirak stopped, and she turned to look at him as he offered her pain to his goddess.

"Sweet child," he purred, "you bore that pain like a true believer."

Larkspur's body shook, her mind frantically grasping at his words. It is my duty, she thought, though the words wouldn't come.

"Loviatar herself found your performance.... Inspiring. She has deemed you worthy of her blessing," he continued, and Larkspur felt a sudden peace as the goddess's blessing settled onto her shoulders. She could still feel the pain, certainly, but it was almost pleasant. There was an eroticism to the dizziness, the sparks of pain tingling at the end of every nerve. Her body was aching, exhausted, but undeniably alive. Abdirak seemed to sense her sudden calm. He smiled discreetly, as though the others were not in the room. "And on a personal note, thank you. That was positively divine." The words were almost a whisper, but they rang in Larkspur's ears like a bell toll.

Her head swam. Her heart thudded. She felt inspired, certainly, but not sated in her discovery. She hoped to ask Abdirak more questions, but he was already busy, cleaning his weapons and talking to one of the goblins. She would have to come back, she realized, and she would have to come back alone. Ordinarily, this would have terrified her, but Abdirak seemed safe enough. Odd really, but what could he do to her that would be worse than what she had just endured?

It wasn't long before the party decided to make camp for the night, exhausted from their exploration and hoping to stave off combat for as long as possible. Fighting could wait until after a good meal and a long sleep. Well, a long sleep for the others. Larkspur had a feeling she and Abdirak would be talking late into the night, if he would be willing to discuss their divine differences.

Gale made a delicious potato soup for dinner, rich and creamy despite their somewhat limited ingredients. Odile had suggested that perhaps he was using magic to augment their meals, and Larkspur thought they were probably right. Either way, the food was delicious. She made a mental note to ask him for the recipe--if they made it to Baldur's Gate alive, Larkspur would want to recreate the dish once everyone had parted ways. The thought was bittersweet, but she pushed it aside. Now is hardly the ideal time to get more attached to your companions. We are all on death's door at every moment. Do not make their loss harder on yourself than it already will be.

The richness of the soup settled into everyone's bellies as sleepiness took them one by one. Karlach and Odile were laughing quietly with Lae'zel, who seemed frustrated that she didn't get whatever the joke was. Shadowheart had already gone to sleep, and Astarion and Wyll were taking turns throwing Scratch's ball. Or rather, Wyll was throwing it while Astarion heckled him. Gale was cleaning up his cookware when Larkspur stood up and stretched, but began to head to the entrance of camp instead of her tent.

"Going somewhere?" he inquired, surprising her. Larkspur hadn't felt his eyes on her back.

"Yes," she responded, "I-uh, I have something I need to do. Something I need to understand." It wasn't a lie, but she felt her cheeks flush as though it was.

His brow furrowed slightly. "Ah, I see. Well, be careful. I trust your judgement but I... but we will need you again come morning. I doubt our coming battles will be easily won, especially without your healing prowess."

Larkspur nodded. "Thank you, Gale. I'll-- I'll see you in the morning." It was a promise she fully intended to keep.

When she left the camp, she found Abdirak's corner of the desecrated temple with ease. She had hoped he would still be there, and as luck would have it he was. And as luck--or Ilmater, or Loviatar--would have it, he was alone. Larkspur hesitated slightly at the entrance, shivering in the drafty air. She had not replaced her armor after dinner, and her thin camp clothes were not enough to stave off the chill. Her lack of armor was a peace offering, to ensure that Abdirak knew she was not a threat. Larkspur hadn't come to hunt a heretic, and she did not want him to think she had. Unarmed, she stood in the archway outside of his altar. She felt suddenly shy, unsure of what to say to draw his attention away from his table of weaponry.

Possibly he had heard her footsteps, or possibly he had sensed that she would have more to say. Either way, he turned to her before she had the chance to say anything. "Welcome back, dear one. I did enjoy our prayers earlier." His tone was completely sincere, no trace of irony or double entendre.

"What drew you to Loviatar worship?" Larkspur blurted out before she could come up with a less direct question.

Abdirak shrugged. "What drew you to Ilmater? Probably much the same. There was suffering in my life which I could not control. The pain was becoming unbearable. I wished to learn how to bear it."

Larkspur nodded. "I believe the two gods have more in common than others might at first suspect."

Abdirak smiled, delighted by the prospect of someone to discuss esoteric topics with who was not an Absolute cultist. "As do I," he drawled, "without Loviatar, Ilmater would have nothing to repair. Without Ilmater, Loviatar would have no reason for her destruction."

"Precisely. Each views pain and suffering as a tool, just with opposite implications."

Abdirak nodded slowly. "This is, I believe, why you did so well for me earlier today. Why you did so well for Loviatar. You truly understand the nature of pain, the depths of it. The comfort that it can bring, even if you derive that comfort from the alleviation thereof."

The two continued talking in hushed tones for a few moments, comparing rites and practices within their respective sects. The conversation was undoubtedly refreshing for each of them, not only because of their similar viewpoints but because neither of them had been able to engage in any kind of deep theological debate since the rise of the Absolute, if not before that. Larkspur couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to intellectually spar with someone in such sacred territory, and she was grateful for the opportunity. Thank you Ilmater, thank you Loviatar, she offered silently.

Abdirak pulled a bottle of wine from under his table, offering Larkspur a swig. She took it gladly, feeling its warmth splash down her throat and settle in her belly. "My sweet child," Abdirak looked at her as her lips wrapped around the bottleneck, "surely this conversation made you want to...pray... again? Attempt to apply the knowledge we have gained in worship?" His eyes glistened with hunger, but he held still and maintained the distance between them.

Larkspur nodded assent. "We owe it to our gods to take advantage of an opportunity to commune with them both. Perhaps our breakthroughs may grant their guidance to other worshippers, if the gods approve of our actions."

Abdirak stood, his broad chest flexing. "We will have no audience this time except for our gods. What a splendid offering we shall make. Are you prepared to give yourself completely in that pursuit?"

Larkspur had suspected that this would be the nature of their prayer. Rising from her seated position on the ground, she unlaced her shirt and tossed it aside. "If it pleases Ilmater, I will pray in whatever way he will hear me."

"In that case, dear one, do not stop there. Undress."

Larkspur shivered slightly, more anticipation of what was to come than the cold. It seemed the goblins had largely gone to sleep as well, so there was little risk of being seen by anyone other than Abdirak himself--not that that mattered as much to her as she would have expected. First she stepped out of her boots, then her pants. She peeled off her socks and slid out of her small clothes, leaving her standing in front of the altar fully exposed.

Abdirak's eyes raked over her, trailing from the tattoo on her throat to her breasts, nipples pricking with cold and arousal, to the soft curve of her stomach, and finally to the fold between her legs. "Good girl," he whispered, "Loviatar will surely be pleased with your offering."

Larkspur breathed once, twice, silently dedicating their actions to their gods, before turning to face the wall once more. "I am ready. Pray with me."

Abdirak needed no more encouragement. Selecting a whip from his table of instruments, he began to brush it across Larkspur's thighs and buttocks, picking up speed and force with each swing of his hand. The audible sting of the whip left Larkspur grinding her teeth, fighting the urge to whimper. She did not want to give in so early; she suspected this would be a long night and wanted to savour every moment. Whether that was for her god's benefit or her own, she was unsure.

When the pink stripes along her legs began to purple in the candlelight, Abdirak put the whip back on the table. "You were so quiet," he said with distaste. "Our gods will hardly be able to hear our prayer if you maintain such stoicism. Let yourself enjoy the act. Get lost in it. Only then can Loviatar find you."

Larkspur turned to face him. "Ilmater blesses those who suffer silently," she murmured, pupils wide. The warmth in her core was certainly not divine in origin. The wet growing between her thighs was undeniably mortal.

A low growl rumbled from Abdirak's throat. "Does he not bless those who suffer willingly? Does he not bless those who relish in that pain?"

Larkspur's breath caught. "Teach me to relish it, then. Show me how sweet agony can be."

His hands were on her waist before she had finished her sentence. Abdirak pressed his full weight against her, pinning her to the wall. He was much larger than she was, and fully dressed except for his exposed chest. She felt her nipples rubbing against his taught abdomen, felt his erection pressed into her soft thigh. Wordlessly, he pulled her hands up by the wrists until they were above her head, the stone rough and cool against her bare flesh. Taking a cord from around his waist, he tied them to a hook she had not realized was there a moment before. He wedged a knee between her thighs, forcing them to spread as he raked his nails down the tender undersides of her arms and down her torso. When he got to her hips, he continued to pull her legs apart until she was spread as wide as she could be against the wall, shackling her ankles in place.

Holding up the key to her chains, Abdirak took her chin into his other hand. "Listen, devoted one. If at any moment you wish our worship to stop, you have only to ask me for this key. Do you understand?"

Larkspur nodded, dazed somewhat, her thighs and back still aching from his prior ministrations.

"Answer me. Let Loviatar and Ilmater hear your consent. Let them know we devote this sweet moment to them," he ordered. His voice was heavy with anticipation, clearly holding himself back.

"Yes, yes, please, yes," Larkspur whined, sounding much more pitiful than she intended to.

Abdirak picked the whip up once more and began flicking it across the front of her thighs, moving higher, its sting biting at her pelvis, her stomach, her breasts. As the pain moved from her thighs up to infinitely more sensitive places on her skin, she felt herself writhe against her bindings. No release came from behind her, however--only the scrape of rough stone along her back. The pain was starting to blur into pleasure, and she offered it to her god. "Ilmater--bless this pain! Hear my prayer!" she wailed. In response, Abdirak flicked the whip directly across her nipples. A mewling sound burst from her lips as she arched her back into the sensation? Away from it?

Abdirak groaned, raising his voice to the heavens. "Loviatar, take this offering, grant us your understanding!" He put the whip down, removing his cloak and placing it beside his instruments of worship. Larkspur hung from the wall, panting, her cunt slick and her legs aching. "Shall we continue, my sweet supplicant? Or do you want me to let you down?" Abdirak's hand traced Larkspur's cheek.

Larkspur knew that the pain she had experienced so far was only one small fraction of what Abdirak could do to her. She knew that if she asked, he would let her down without question. But she also knew that the gnawing in her core would not be satisfied with just a whipping, that her prayers could be much more enthusiastic. "More," she pleaded.

Abdirak drew his hand back and slapped her across the face, hard. "Good girl," he praised, drawing his hand again across her other cheek. Larkspur gasped. No lover had ever dared use such force before in her limited range of experience, and she was unsure if she liked it or not. "Good girl," he repeated. "Our gods are so pleased with your performance. They will be thrilled with an encore."

His hands travelled down, pinching and twisting her nipples until she was once more arching her back and moaning. He slapped each breast for good measure, drawing louder and louder keening from her lips. When he was satisfied, his rough hands tugged her hips as far off of the wall as he could. With one hand he supported the arch of her back, while with the other he began to smack her pussy. She couldn't squirm away, couldn't do anything to stop the burning sting of his palm against her throbbing clit. The agony was ecstatic, and she heard herself screaming.

"YES, YES! LET ILMATER HEAR YOUR CRIES, DEAR ONE! LET LOVIATAR BLESS OUR OFFERING!" Abdirak roared, his words rising above her scream. Then, as soon as it had begun, he stopped touching her. Larkspur lay against the wall, dripping in sweat, shaking with pain and pleasure and religious fervor. His lack of touch almost hurt more than the torture she had been so willingly taking from him.

Abdirak had broken contact so abruptly in order to remove his pants, revealing a long cock already twitching with want. "If I spill in you, can we be sure that no unwanted consequences will come from this?"

Larkspur nodded, squirming again. She was on fire, painfully aware of the bruising stripes across her legs, the scraped flesh of her back, the emptiness within her cunt, now suddenly twitching and contracting around nothing. It was horrible, it was wonderful, it was confusing and overwhelming and an experience that made her glad she had a charm preventing pregnancy.

He waited for confirmation, then grabbed her hips once more to line up with her entrance. He was not gentle. From the first thrust, he was pounding into her, each push scraping her already torn flesh against the stone once more. Burying his face in her neck, he bit a line from her ear to her shoulder. She half expected him to draw blood. Each time his teeth met her skin, Larkspur squealed, rolling her hips up into Abdirak's.

"Loviatar, take her pain," he chanted between thrusts, "Ilmater, take her pain."

Larkspur was beyond the point of forming words. A high, desperate wail was turning to sobs when Abdirak came, grunting and pounding into her with damn near impossible speed. She felt his cock twitch and pulse inside her and knew with the stuttering of his prayer that he had reached orgasm.

Abdirak pulled out, taking a clean rag from a chest and pouring water from a carafe onto it. Gently, he slipped it between Larkspur's folds, catching his dripping cum before unshackling her ankles and untying her wrists. He wet a second rag and rubbed her scraped back, gently cleaning the sweat and blood before moving to wipe her limbs and torso. He looked her over, assessing her injuries with a pleased expression. "What a beautiful sacrifice you made, sweet one," he hummed into her ear. "Can you make one last offering before I send you on your way?"

He slipped one, two calloused fingers into her slit, tracing a circle on her clit with the index finger of his other hand. Larkspur was still shaking into his hand, and it took little stimulation from Abdirak for her to follow him into orgasm with a soft howl. He held her steady in his lap for a moment, waiting for her to come down before helping her rise to her feet.

"Surely our gods will be pleased with the prayers we raised up tonight. I know I was," he smiled warmly. "If you ever wish to pray again, you know where to find me. I enjoyed exploring the divinity of agony with you."

Larkspur smiled weakly. The experience had been a unique one, certainly, and not unpleasant, but she was unlikely to seek out such intimate brutality again.

Feeling suddenly very small and alone as Abdirak walked into the darkness of the temple, Larkspur pulled her small clothes on, wincing with every touch of the cloth on her battered skin. Lacing her breeches, pulling her shirt over her head, Larkspur felt a deep exhaustion settle into her bones. She didn't even fully lace up her boots before stumbling out of the altar to Loviatar and trudging back to camp. Every fiber of her being ached, and she couldn't decide if she was stifling cries of joy or misery as she reached the campfire and her warm tent. She couldn't quite decide if she had enjoyed her experience, or if her deity had. Still, even in her dazed and overstimulated state, she couldn't help but notice that a small light, as if from a candle, was snuffed out in Gale's tent as she opened the flap of her tent. He waited for me to come back, she thought sluggishly, or is that just a coincidence?

Her eyes fluttered closed and sleep washed over her. The loneliness has dissipated slightly at the sight of that candlelight. Whether Gale had been quietly waiting to be sure she got back safely or simply reading late into the night, the knowledge of his presence was comforting. She knew she would be unbearably sore come morning, and that the mouth-shaped bruising on her neck would not be easily explained away as battle wounds. Odile would certainly ask questions, smirking all the while. Karlach would probably congratulate her on getting some with a hearty slap on the back, which would hardly make the bruising and scabbing along her spine heal faster. Astarion would be disgusted, or jealous, each in an effort to disguise some truer feeling. Whether he would be jealous that Abdirak got to ravish her or that she got to be ravished Larkspur couldn't anticipate. Lae'zel and Shadowheart would sniff in disapproval if they knew how she had spent her night, viewing such activities as a waste of time in such a dire situation. Wyll would be too tactful to say anything, a true gentleman. But Gale... How would Gale respond to the knowledge of what she had experienced? The intimate bruising, the loving ministrations of pain made private. She didn't feel shame, exactly, but she did feel a soft sadness descend on her. Ilmater's will be done she murmured, but why do I feel so empty?

Her sleepy, lust-tainted thoughts wandered to Gale. Gale's beautiful hands, such long fingers... How would they feel buried inside her as Abdirak's had been? Gale's voice, low and sensual in her ear... Would he ever say such praise to her as Abdirak had whispered? Gale's intelligence, his interest in all things arcane or intellectual... Could she have such electrically charged conversations with him? Gale's eyes, so sad but so warm... Larkspur couldn't imagine him being so harsh with his hands, so rough with his hips. Part of her wanted him to be, but most of her wanted him to be soft and gentle. Above all, she just wanted him to touch her. Since pulling him from that portal, the feel of his hands had been traced into her memory. He had shown little to no interest in her so far beyond the platonic, and that was probably for the best, but GODS did Larkspur want him to want her as badly as she wanted him.

She drifted into sleep, wishing that Abdirak's rough hands had been Gale's tender ones, wishing that her bedroll was warm with his body heat rather than cold with the absence of the lover she had shared her night with. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was Ilmater, forgive me. Loviatar's suffering should have been a gift. I am grateful. But still, the emptiness in her core betrayed her lie.

#mine #abdirak #abdirak x tav #gale x tav #yearning #larkspur #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate fanfiction #can't always be romantic sometimes you need some filth

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