Shallan dug her fingers deeper into her dripping slit. She moaned, unsatisfied, as her freehand reached as far as her small slit would allow. Three fingers was all she had been able to fit, and with the rest of her hand in the way, she couldn't even reach half way into her depths.
She was laid out on what acted as her bed, her legs spread wide, hips lifted into the air. Her pale, freckled skin was deep red with a blush, coated and glistening with sweat. Viscid liquid dripped down from her hungry vagina. It was late and she was tired, but Shallan desperately needed more. She had already had a few minor orgasms, but she was still not satisfied.
It had all started with that peep at the mercenaries. She had gotten herself off with a fruit in, hoping the image would leave her head. It had, but her need had not. Instead that evening had awakened something new within the girl.
In the time since that night, Shallan had grown more and more lustful. She suspected the part of her that was Veil was to blame for how she felt, always distracted, always struggling to focus. More than usual, that is.
But, with everything that had happened lately, Shallan had barely a moment of time for herself. Now, finally, in a room of her own – though it lacked many comforts – in Urithiru, she was finally able to take care of the building pressure. Only problem was that she was still not content.
She had no idea what time it was, but it must have been dark for hours at this point. She shifted her butt, moving to make herself more comfortable. It helped little, she was entirely at the mercy of her passion.
Pulling her fingers from her tight labia, Shallan gave another unhappy groan. Her hand was sticky with her own moisture, it ran down along her forearm.
I just need something to reach with, Shallan thought.
"Mmmmm," came a vibrating buzz from above. Pattern sat flush with the roof of the little bedchamber. Shallan no longer found his presence uncomforting. "What is wrong Shallan? Does it not feel good?"
"It's just not enough," Shallan sighed. "Whatever I do I can't seem to sate my body's desires. I need something other than my hands."
Shallan sat up on her bedding, hair falling down her shoulders in a red mess. She pulled one leg up to her chest as she looked around her room for anything that might suffice. A single small oil lamp lit the cold stone chamber. Spheres were hard to come by during the weeping, and they needed all the stormlight they had to power the Oathgate.
"Could you not use a fruit again?" Pattern asked. He left the ceiling, transitioning into his three-dimensional form, and floated down to hover at level with Shallan's head.
"I don't have any fruit here, and I don't want to go out to look for any. Maybe I could use the paper case." Shallan had a long, round case to carry rolled up papers in. But, looking at it, she realised it would be far too big to fit. "Or a wide brush, perhaps. Hmm"
"Mmmm," Pattern sounded in harmony with Shallan's own hum. "Perhaps a broom. Or you could ask Kaladin for one of his spears!"
"I am absolutely not asking the bridge boy for a spear! Besides, I already told you I don't want to leave my room." But a spear might work…
No! That would be improper. Though, the situation was already quite improper. If Pattern agreed to it… But she couldn't do that, she couldn't remember. Except, so long as it was not a sword, she wouldn't have to.
"Pattern," Shallan said, voice sounding higher than she meant it to. "Kaladin could change his shardblade – his spren – into a spear instead of a sword. Could you also do that?"
"Of course, I can take any shape you want. Do you not like the sword?" The cryptic seemed to have lost track of the previous line of conversation and its implication. Well, what did she expect?
"Could you be just a pole? Like a short one like this." She held out her hands to indicate the size. The next moment Pattern landed in her hand, a silvery rod of gleaming metal, the ends smooth and rounded.
Shallan blushed as she looked at the object in her hands. Could she really ask that of Pattern? But she really needed it! She sighed.
"Pattern," she said, the blush growing deeper, "would it be okay if I… if I used you like the fruit?"
"Ooo-ho-ho!" Pattern buzzed excitedly, now catching up on the point of Shallan's requests. "You want to use me like a penis! I will let you do it, to learn about humans, of course."
Shallan chuckled at the reaction, but she still wasn't sure that it was a good idea. "Are you sure it's okay? You can say no."
"Mmmm, I am happy to help!"
Well, she thought, I guess it's worth a try then. She layed back on her bedding, spreading her slim legs once more. Carefully, Shallan lined Pattern up at her labia, before slowly pressing him into herself.
The penis/pole/sword/spren was cool against her hot vagina, the moment it/he entered her pleasure and relief washed over Shallan. She immediately pushed the phallus as deep as it would go, filling her to her core. A deep sigh escaped her as her entire body shuddered.
"Am I a satisfactory penis?" Shallan reflexively squeezed her thighs together as Pattern's buzzing voice vibrated inside her. She cried out as pleasure shook her, already taking her close to the edge.
"Oh, Pattern!" Shallan moaned. "Please, keep talking. I don't care what you say, just don't stop!"
"Mmmm, okay! I can talk…" Shallan stopped listening almost at once as Pattern's humming began to reverberate through her body.
Shallan pressed her pillow into her face, biting down on it to stop herself from screaming out in ecstasy. Liquids gushed out around her fingers where she pressed her phallic-shaped shard blade – she tried not to think about it as Pattern – into her hungry nethers. She felt more than heard the changes in the spren's monologue, ebbing and flowing, bringing exciting variations to the waves of pleasure.
Arching her back – pressing her shoulders into the mattress as far as she could, clenching her eyes and biting down even harder – Shallan pushed her toy even deeper into herself. Something within her seemed to give way, the walls of her vagina letting up pressure, allowing her to slide her shard-penis further in.
In a quick shove, she hilted the rod, thrilling electricity surging through her body. Then, unexpected, flashing pain as she hit an end, bottoming out within herself. She suddenly felt as if she had been punished in the stomach, but from the inside.
Just as a feeling of nausea started to rise within her, Pattern's humming intensified manyfold. Before Shallan really had a chance to feel the pain, she was overcome with a crashing wave of pleasure. As if a highstorm had swept through her, sweeping her mind clear of everything but the immense briss erupting from her loins. She stretched herself upward, hips thrusting into the air as her toes and fingers curled under her. Her entire body shook as her orgasm took all other senses from her.
She might have screamed and thrashed, or she might have lied still and quiet. Shallan would have been none the wiser either way. The only thing that was real was the impossibly acute pressure within.
Any amount of time might have passed for Shallan, though in reality it likely did not last more than a minute. But, when she came down from her peak, she felt as if the whole world might as well have ended while she was gone.
Pattern still hummed within her, and Shallan had to tear him from her lips not to lose her mind. For many minutes she could do nothing more than heave and puff as the ripples of afterglow rattled her body. Her breathing was ragged and difficult, and her chest moved in a way that seemed concerning. Still, Shallan had few thoughts to spare for something like that.
She lay sprawled in her bedding, her hair a mess, perspiration glittering on her skin. Below her thighs, her mattress was wet with her moistures, a wide patch of damp.
As the pleasure was finally subsiding, Shallan felt Pattern, in his fractalling swirl form, slide up her stomach, bumps and ridges creasing her skin as if from underneath.
"Shallan?" Pattern hummed. "Are you okay?"
Shallan didn't answer immediately. Speaking seemed like a strange concept to her shaken mind. She felt unsure if her mouth was her own. How did you even form words anyway?
Eventually she managed an incoherent sound, and then, finally, a few actual words.
"Storms. That. Was. Amazing."
Pattern hummed satisfactorily at his accomplishment, the sound soothing Shallan's giddy mind. As she listened to the little spren's buzzing voice, Shallan finally drifted off to sleep.