Lyra Silvermouth
So, first of all, a big THANK YOU to Mutt Boi ( http://mutt-boi.sofurry.com/ ) for making my poor english readable.
Then I want to repeat that this story is not meant for tha kiddies, there will be dirty stuff. Your pants may explode. You have been warned.
And thridly, I do not own this caracters. Just wanted to make this clear, so nobody gets sued.
Lyra Silvermouth by Were-Gato; edited by Mutt Boi (an evil little story from His dark materials)
"Let me speak with him alone!"
Lyra Belacqua stood in the door and collected all her anger. She took a deep breath. The stink of coal smoke, iron dust and dirty fur bite her lungs. The twilight in the blacksmith lay before her like an evil otherworld.
"Are ya sure, ya wanna go in there?" mumbled Lee Scoresby in her direction. The Texan aeronaut had just led her to the blacksmith, where the grim bear worked, but now it seems that doubt caught up to him.
"I am sure!" Lyra told him in an arrogant tone. Her Brytanic accent let the words sound even more sinister. "Go, let us alone! We will figure the conditions for our journey out." Her daemon swirled around her head in the form of a little Kolibri.
Lee Scoresby looked down on her in a strange way. Could he guess what she had in mind?
"´kay, ´kay, I aínt ya sitter," he said and tipped his hat. "If ya survive, call me." He looked into the dark blacksmith. "Be nice with her, would ya?"
A deep growling answered him. Horseshoes on the walls jumped a bit.
The Texan curled his brows and shook his head, "Hope ya know what´cha doing. Good luck missey, ya gonna need it."
With this he disappeared into the next alley and left the girl alone at the blacksmith entrance. Lyra began to pull the thick gloves from her fingers. Her daemon Pantalaimon, now in form of a weasel, slipped under the fur of her jacket till only the tiny white face remained.
"What's your problem? Are you crazy?" he hissed out of his hideout, "Don't believe that I wouldn't know what you are planning to do. I'm your daemon! I'm a part of you. And I don´t want this!"
"Pan, I'm going to do whatever is necessary," Lyra whispered coldly.
"Let the bear go, we don't need him!" Pantalaimon pleaded.
"We will need him!" Cold air scratched Lyra's fingers like needles however she began to roll up her sleeves.
"Why?" the daemon demanded to know, "Did the golden clock tell you that?"
"Yes," Lyra lied, "Now, be quiet."
She closed her jacket around her neck. Pan wound soon know all, but she didn´t mind. The alethiometer had told her everything about the bear, his origin, his misery, everything. It told her that he didn't want to go with her, but she wanted him to. And she would do anything to get what she want.
"Iorek Byrnison," she said respectfully as she did the first step into the blacksmith, "I have invited you to come with me on a journey that would be doomed without your honor and bravery. I have told you where to find your armour. I have pledged you grace and honor, and you still don't want to come along. What is it that you demand now?"
With small steps, she walked deeper into the blacksmith, both hands formed to fists so they wouldn't freeze so much. Slowly her eyes managed to function in the darkness. Now she could vaguely see the white creature in front of her. Like a mountain of snow, that came out of the mist. A colossus made of muscle and white fur, four times as big as she was and a hundred times stronger. The Icebear, who she wanted at her service: Iorek Byrnison, her Panserbjørn.
"What I demand?" The thunder in his voice let the walls tremble, "I know where my armour is. I could get it. But where should I go with it? I am an outcast. What could a little worm like you give me, that would be worth to go back to where they send me to into exile?"
The polar bear sat on something that looked like a throne of broken barrels. The closer Lyra came up to him, the more and more all other smells were pushed away, till only a cloud of dirty fur and whiskey remained. Good, this would make things easier.
"I can give you something!" Lyra told him full of pride, "Something, nether you nor I will ever speak to anyone else. I'm able to perform exquisite arts. Arts, you would not be able to find anywhere ever again."
Bored, the mighty bear placed his head on his paw. "Oh really?"
"Yes! See, i grow up in a college, an enormous building, a castle, full off old professors and young graduates. And as it happens, I came to be the only girl there who wasn't a telltale servant. They all came to me, students and teachers, to teach me. While I was the one who really taught them."
Carefully, Lyra's hands reached out and felt between the bear's legs. The burned and dirty fur scratched her skin, but the boiling heat that came beneath it felt good on her icy fingers.
While searching she asked him, "Tell me, Iorek Byrnison, how long was it since you lay down with a female of your kind?"
A deep growl came from the Icebear's mouth. But then it changed in a sarcastic laughter, "You want present yourself to me?", he laughed. "Oh little one, thank you for that joke. But my friend Lee would not be pleased, if I would squash you into a pile of red mud."
"Keep laughing Iorek," Lyra whispered,"But you will see what I have to offer." Finally her hands found what she had searched. Ioreks laughter stopped abruptly and changed into a breathless howl. Lyra was grinning, "So, what do we have here?" she asked seductively and licked her lips. She could only hope that the bear liked her dirty talking like all the high-educated men prefer, still nothing seemed otherwise.
The bear's ballsack pumped beneath her fingers, fine and soft like expensive leather. Beneath a layer of thin white hair it was black. The smell surprised her, heavy and bitter but still smelled better than the rest of the fur or the skin of most men who ever came to her. Greedily, she stroked the bear's maleness, gently to not hurt his treasure. His balls' heat warmed her hands so good and how they feeled, heavy, hot and big like tow hard-boiled eggs. She knew all the complicated words for this; thanks to a randy professor of anatomy, who presented her everything very literally; but found it easier just to think of a sac with balls in it.
"Mhmm, what a gem. Oh, how many bear ladies cried when you left them? How should they ever become happy again, without the joy of your flesh?"
The giant bear grunted and twisted under her words like under her fingers dance. Joyful shudders ripped through his flesh like arctic waves and let his fur jiggle, "You wonderful little whore," he said in ecstasy, "Do not stop!"
A new smell bite in Lyra's nose, much stronger then anything before. Above the dark sack she could see the reason. The black shaft, glistening with slime that deployed from its hairy sheath, the bears cock.
Lyra didn't panic. She had seen dogs mate, and listened how servants let their daemons do it together. They were different forms for the same purpose. Despite her youth, she had laid with enough men, so that this sight didn't frighten her. The Icebear, as far as she was concerned, was just another man; regardless what colour his cock might be. She could deal with it.
One of her hands departed from the bears balls and wandered north. As her finger gently grabbed the hot wet meat, Iorek jumped in his seat. His groaning brought the walls to shutter. Almost Lyra ran away. Almost, but not quite. If she wanted so press the bear under her will, she couldn't let him go now. Her mouth opened and she stuck her tongue wide out. Steam formed in the cold air around her, while she brought the bear's shaft to her lips.
"If you dare to bite me..." the bear hushed as grim as he could "...I will rip that tiny skull from your neck."
"Iorek," Lyra said full of faked love, "Your mighty maleness is far to precious for me, to try something like that."
Without giving him time to reconsider, she took the slimy flesh in her mouth. The bear growled and shook in long missed joy. A part of his makeshift throne crashed underneath him. Lyra didn't dare to move. Only very slowly she began to lick on the bear's cock. He tasted foul, but that was always the case. Still she, was thankful for all her training in Jordan College, without it she had barfed even by the thought of this.
As Iorek calmed down, Lyra started her work again. First carefully, then quickly, she pressed more and more of the hot and trembling bearmeat in her mouth. Meanwhile she reminded herself to breath through her nose and to stay calm. The sharp bearsmell got deep in her lungs, and while she wouldn't have asked for this in the beginning, she somehow started to enjoy it. The shaft now pressed against the entrance of her throat. For half a second, she wanted to spit it out. But then she swallowed, strong and slow, and let the bearmeat glide deep into her body. It seemed endless. Her lips, purple and full of blood, finally touched the soft fur of the sheath. Silent, like from a far away land, the bears howling and growling rang on her ears. As if the giant cock had filled her head to the fullest. The bear was gigantic, and she knew that she could never hold him back. It had do happen now.
Lyra swallowed and began to suck with all what was left in her body. She rambled her throat and hummed a tune, just to never stay still while her tongue moved rapidly over the slimy meat. A thick section bearmeat came out of her throat, but she took a quick breath and devoured it again. Her head moved pumping back and forth. All time was lost. Saliva and bear juice ran foaming over her lips. A multitude of thoughts swirled in her mind, making her dizzy. Something strange happened in there. Even if she had wanted to, she couldn't let the bear go anymore. Her body demanded him. She gripped her fingers like claws in the giant bears fur, and sucked even harder then before. She became part of him while she gargled and licked and swallowed his flesh.
Iorek winded, breaking the rest of his throne. The babbling mouth of this human girl was better then any bear maid he ever had before. And she would never bring him a lousy cub. He would accompany her to the end of the world. His tongue hang out of his throat, and his eyes where turned to heaven. Over the years, his seed had filled up his sac, and finally he could give it to a female.
Lyra sensed it in a way, she had no words for. The bear was ready; she had him near the edge. All what's missing was a little bit more.
Her hand departed from the jumping sac, slipped down between the shivering muscles of the bears behind. She found the trembling hole easier than she thought, and jammed her finger into it.
The icebear howled. Hammers fell to earth, iron jumped from the tables. And in Lyras throat exploded a boiling flood. The first waves went directly in her stomach, and then it filled her mouth. She had to drink it to not drown. The bear fell back, ripped his shaft out of Lyras throat. For a second it seemed to dance over her eyes like a snake, before it spat a last big drop in her face and went soft.
Lyra fell to her knees. It took some time, till she caught her breath. Drops of creamy bearjuice ran from her lips into her mouth and only now she had the chance to really taste it. It was different. Not delicious or horrible, just good in a way she could not conceptualize in her mind, but rather deep between her legs. Fascinated she watched as his black cock, which shone with her saliva, went back in his sheath. His balls disappeared under their layer of fur, so much lighter than before.
Iorek Byrnison came swirling to his legs, and for the first time in a long while it was not caused by whiskey. He felt free, like newly born. Now he had a purpose. And it would bring him a better fortune then he could have dreamed. Growling joyfully he shook the iron dust from his fur and said: "Lyra Belacqua, Lyra Silvermouth. I pledge allegiance to you and your journey. In all dangers and all misfortune I will stand by your side. And now, I will get my armour for that."
The Icebear turned and broke through the wall of the blacksmith. The wood fell like a leaf. Lyra watched dreamingly as her mighty companion ran down the main street. Her stomach was rumbling, seems it doesn't like a meal of fresh bear seed, yet. It would get used to it.
Lost in her thoughts Lyra opened her jacket just wide enough so Pantalaimon could escape and change into a kolibri.
"I don´t even want to imagine what you just did there!" the daemon scolded her, "Look, look just at your appearance. Quick, go back to the ship before you freeze to death."
Only now did Lyra notice that she was wet to the bones beneath her fur coats. Everything was glued to her skin, and in her unspeakables there was a strange oily liquid that wasn't sweat. It made her feel wondrous, so nice and dirty, "Yes, I'll go to the ship," she mumbled. Slowly, her feet began to walk, just along the path of the bears destruction, "But first, I want to see Iorek in his armour."
On her way through the destroyed street Lyra began to think of lies to tell the others. Even if she found nothing wrong with the things she did, adults tended to see the world so complicated. She would never tell anyone how she paid for Iorek's services. Not even if she would write her adventure down someday.
Hope you enjoyed it, comments will be appreciated.