He ripped free with a wet pop. Her ass was already hanging off the edge; the moment his cock left her she dropped, but his hands were there, guiding her fall. She landed kneeling, thighs trembling, breasts heaving, flushed face tilted up to him.
"Aaaah! Take… the blessing… in your mouth!"
Bellegere didn't suck. She simply opened wide. Tongue out, eyes shining with tears and awe. Offering her beautiful face, an offering no man before had received from her.
Bronn snarled, fist flying over his slick cock. Twelve frantic strokes and he erupted.
The first rope lashed across her forehead, thick and creamy. The second tinted her brows and lashes, the third painted her cheek and the bridge of her nose. More followed. Hot, heavy spurts that glazed her plump lips, dripped from her chin, splattered across those glorious tits in messy white ribbons. Some landed on her waiting tongue; she didn't flinch, only moaned softly as the taste of him flooded her mouth.
He wasn't finished. Near the end, still spurting, he gripped the back of her head and shoved forward.
Bellegere's eyes widened in shock, surrender, then lust. His cock punched between her lips and kept going. He fucked her face in short thrusts, balls slapping her chin, pubes grinding against her nose until her throat fluttered around him and tears streamed down her wrecked face.
Slurp! Slurp!
He held her there, buried to the hilt, and let the last pulses dribble straight down her gullet while her tongue cradled his throbbing shaft.
Only when his boneless flesh was softening against her tongue did he ease back. Bellegere instinctively sealed her lips around him, sucking and cleaning every inch as he slowly pulled out. Her tongue scooped up every last bit.
Pop!
The cockhead came free with a filthy, wet sound.
"Kah… Uh…" Bellegere coughed and panted.
"Wonderful, stunningly done, my lady. The Maiden smiles upon you. You have met her trials. By the Seven, we shall resume the rite tomorrow."
Oh, he was already getting hard imagining the ritual.
Bellegere smiled on the floor, nodding.
"Let me help you." Bronn grabbed her gown and wiped his cum off her tits and face, smearing it everywhere while doing it. How magnanimous.
Finally, he wore his trousers and robes, fixed his hair, and prepared to leave.
"I shall see to tomorrow night, my lady."
Bellegere just nodded, smiling, accepting the 'blessing' the holy man offered.
####
Over the following months, Bronn had the most fun of his life. Bellegere was just the beginning. As he explored every inch of the brown woman, more came his way. Of course, only Bellegere wanted a babe; the others were just curious.
Moonshadow was an Eastern beauty, with smaller eyes and a slender build; goodness, she moaned so loud. She only ever wore white and silver, and that matched her skin. He had her folded in all the unholy ways.
Then there was the Merling Queen. The woman was slightly older than Bronn, pale in skin, hair red as fire. But what stood out about her was her harem of young maidens whom she called her Mermaids. And gods, what a night that was.
He not only fucked the mind out of the Merling Queen, but also took the maidenhead of her four virgin Mermaids. He had them many more times afterward, whenever his heart pleased. Then there was the woman called the Poetess.
Bronn instantly decided to make her a Septa. She always had a book in hand, and as he fucked her, she'd sing him songs, poems, and make stories with him. She was a fine woman to look at, more than fine. But her singing captivated him. Perfect for Seven's Angel, he reckoned.
Still, he was loyal to Bellegere; he fucked her every single night, filled her womb with what she eagerly called blessings. All shame and hesitation slowly vanished. Even mentions of maiden and faith stopped. They started to fuck for the sake of fucking.
All the while, his work in Braavos continued. From a thousand to ten thousand, and then fifty thousand. He had to seek the largest grounds in Braavos from the Sealord to hold his gathering. The smallfolk numbered a lot, but merchants and the like counted just as many.
The Sept in Braavos also received offerings, and a construction of a much larger sept began.
That was two months ago.
"...O' Mother above, watch over your humble children."
Bronn finished his preaching with the chant, no longer standing but seated at a grand table, under which Bellegere had appeared through a trapdoor. She suckled him the entire duration, drained his cock, all in the presence of over fifty thousand faithful.
It gave Bronn a high he couldn't forget. The joy of having one of the most sought-after women in Braavos suck him in the presence of so many.
But the preaching was over. Bellegere quickly tied his trousers and escaped through the same trapdoor. She enjoyed Bronn's depravity just as much as he did.
"In five days, I shall hold the greatest gathering of the faith at the Sealord's palace grounds. All of you and more are invited to behold the Seven's glory," he declared and raised his shining right hand. "May the Seven's light guide us all, and may we be wise enough to follow it."
In response, almost the entire arena fell to their knees, praying.
Magic was just too good a tool to fool the masses.
Quickly after the preaching, he arrived at the massive House of Seven Blessings that he had established. He sat there as usual and healed anyone who was ailing. Of course, his companion, the offering box, was also there. A few, actually, as they filled up just too fast.
"Unella," he looked at his gorgeous Septa. The woman had let her long blonde hair free that day, instead of braiding it. Already, he planned to make her cry to the gods that night. "Bring more rejuvenation potion."
Unella passed him the sweetest smile and left to bring the items.
Right then, Ser Florent and Ser Bonifer Hasty walked in through the door, escorting a middle-aged man. At a glance, the man didn't seem ailed, standing too tall, proud, aristocratically.
"Lord Septon, this man claims to be a messenger sent by the Triarch of Volantis," Ser Hasty reported.
"Greetings, Lord Septon, Seven's Angel. I am Haliquo Ormaen, servant of triarch Doniphos Paenymion of the Elephants."
"..."
None of that made any sense to Bronn. But he entertained, getting up to prepare a drink for the guest. "Welcome to Braavos. What do the triarchs send for me?"
"I must offer a warning, Lord Septon. A great many figures seem to feel threatened by your magic, Lord Septon. None are more unsettled than the temple of the Lord of Light. The Red Priests speak of little else, and they have at last dispatched Moqorro the Black Flame to seek you."
"Black Flame?" Bronn frowned and looked at Ser Hasty, hoping he'd know something. But the knight shook his head. "Who is this man?"
"He serves as the right hand to Benerro, the High Priest. Volantis is the center of the Lord of Light's worship. Benerro commands magic no rival can match. And it is a bitter truth to admit that our ruling triarchs live in deep fear of him and his strange abilities."
"You seem tired, my friend. Here, drink this." Bronn offered a cup for him and took one for himself.
Of course, Bronn drank first. But their cups weren't the same. The man's cup held a truth potion in it.
"What else can you tell me about this Black Flame? Is he an assassin?"
"No, Lord Septon, he is a priest of great height and girth, dark as pitch and broad as two men. His voice rolls like a war drum, and flames are inked across his face. He bears a staff that spits green fire. He comes for you armed with many hidden arts. Be wary, Lord Septon."
"Why are you here?" Bronn asked.
"The triarchs hope you can bring down High Priest Benerr—"
Bronn chuckled when the man stuttered, shocked by his own honesty.
"Ser Hasty, Ser Florent, please hold his arms apart. I have a few noble questions for him."
"W-What is the meaning of this? I am the messenger of Volantis!"
Bronn stood up, grinning like an evil wizard. "And that is why you will speak the truth, and only the truth."