Strong Arm of the Chantry
His brain was swimming. It was the wine. He hadn't drank in a long time, but he found it hard to refuse the elf's invitation to a night at the Hanged Man. Fenris was a very good friend, and he respected him on so many levels. He turned a lazy gaze to his companion and smiled. Fenris was passed out with his head on the table, hand still clutching the third bottle of wine.
It had been an enjoyable evening, that was until he started to overhear the conversation going on a short distance away. Anders was in the middle of regaling Varric with tales of his numerous escapes from the Circle.
"Oh and my forth attempt, my fourth attempt I actually stole a chantry sister's robes, put them on, and just walked straight out of the tower." Anders said, rather amused with himself. Varric slapped his knee and laughed.
"That is very disrespectful." He growled at Anders.
"Well of course it is to you Chantry boy, but you know what I find disrespectful?" He sneered. "I find the Chantry's oppression of mages disrespectful, disrespectful to human dignity!" Anders had puffed out his chest.
"Now take it easy there Blondie, Choir boy." Varric tried to calm the situation, but it was to no avail. He rose to his feet as did the mage.
"You know nothing of respect and human dignity, the Chantry personifies these virtues," He could feel the blood pounding in his head, his fist clenched, "You are the example of why mages need to be protected from themselves and others. So you will take your disrespectful talk elsewhere, out of my presence!"
The mage only sneered, hands also clenching tightly, then slowly releasing as a devious smirk crossed his face. "You know I would have had a harder time escaping if all the Chantry sisters didn't look like men!" To that the room became still, even Varric stood mouth agape.
Part of him warned to calm down, to follow a nonviolent approach, but Anders had crossed a line, a very dangerous line. He wanted to argue, to chide the mage, but he was too drunk and too agitated. In a fit of anger he shoved Anders over a wooden table, causing the man to careen into several mugs of ale in various stages of consumption. Anders let out a cry and attempted to struggle to his feet, but he was upon him. He grabbed the mage by his collar pulling their faces dangerously close together.
He knew Anders could smell the wine on every one of his ragged breathes, but Maker, he didn't care. All he cared about was teaching that apostate abomination a lesson. "You will learn the meaning of respect." he hissed, as Anders eyes grew wide and fearful.
He grabed the mage by that stupid ponytail pulling him up off the table. He noticed, yes he knew it was a possibility, the blue beginning to crack from the man's form. Best to nip that, "No demons." He snarled slamming Anders' head hard into the table. The mage staggered stunned by the impact. All the traces of Justice on his person faded as quickly as they had shown up. He was pleased at the effect, now to go about disciplining the abomination.
He quickly bent the mage over his knee. Anders was still reeling from having his head bashed against the table and provided no fight. "You will regret your disrespect towards the Chanty, you monster!" THWAP! His hands made contact with the mage's bottom causing Anders to cry out in shock and pain.
"Now wait a minute Sebastian!" Varric had risen to his feet and made his way over. Ignoring the dwarf's interruption, he continued about his work, winding his taunt muscles into position, and crashing his open palm once again with a THWAP across the mage's backside. Anders let out another howl, this time tinged with sobs.
At that moment Varric had grabbed his arm, "That's enough choir boy!" Oh but it was not enough, he had only scratched the surface of teaching Anders respect. Varric grabbed his arm, but so enthralled in the moment he was easily able to toss the dwarf aside sending him careening into empty chairs. He felt Anders trying to squirm away with the momentary distraction, a poor choice by the mage.
"I see you have learned nothing, perhaps the lesson should be applied directly to your flesh!" he growled pulling up Anders robes, and then pulling down his breeches exposing his pale buttocks. His blood pounded in his brain, the heat of anger throbbed in his mind, and surprisingly started stirring in his groin. Anders made muffled pleas, but he would hear none of it. Once again he raised his arm and sent his open palm smacking hard onto exposed flesh causing a sharp slapping noise. Anders moaned in agony, writhing to get free, causing such wonderful friction. He smacked the mage's backside again unable to keep his hips from bucking, causing his groin to dig into Ander's body.
The delicious heat and friction built with every new strike. The moans and cries of the mage only edged him further on, his own ragged breaths joining. He soon found it too much to bare, his strokes upon the mage's backside became faster and harder, as did the bucking of his hips. With one final smack and trust of his hips he spilled over into release.
His head ached even more when he realized what had happened. Disgusted he pushed the prone apostate, who was shaking and sobbing, unto the floor. Fenris stirred from his drunken stupor and lifted his head lazily and was greeted with the sight of the mage curled tightly onto himself racked with sobs. He watched as his elf companion smirked, threw the empty wine bottle crashing into the wall, stumbling passed Varric who was now just rising to his feet rubbing a bruised forehead. He also watched as the elf staggered towards the doorway, a doorway that also held a smirking pirate captain.
He watched in horror as she looked towards Anders, then to himself, her eyes gazing knowingly at the wet pooling in his breeches visible below his belt buckle. Maker it had to be her! He quickly made his way towards the door, almost tripping in drunken uncoordination. She smiled as he passed by looking once again at the spot, then at the belt buckle with Andraste's face.
"Well that's one way to give some beneDICKtion." She purred. Red faced and wine sodden he fled The Hanged Man, hoping at least he had taught the snarky mage a valuable lesson in dealing with those loyal to the Chantry.
