The Feast

by Rowan Bree

  “That’s it,” he says as you follow his movements, your arousal growing though you fear being found out.

  A pair of men come to sit across from you at the table. You smile politely at them, hoping they don’t notice the slight movement of your body or the blush in your cheeks. But they don’t seem to be paying you much mind.

  The duke swats at his page. “Pour these men a drink,” he says in a booming voice. Wine sloshes as the young man hurries to fill the empty goblets and pass them across the table. You stop moving as the men look your way.

  The duke introduces himself to the two men and asks where they are from. You avoid eye contact, shrinking down as the duke paws at you under the table.

  “The Sandstone Isles,” one of the men replies. “Our uncle was supposed to come but had business to attend to. We’re only here to relay back the king’s announcement, and not get into any trouble.”

  The duke laughs. “Well I don’t pity you.” He nudges aside your panties and prompts you to start moving again. You obey him cautiously, your own arousal outweighing your fear.

  The duke continues to talk to them as you try your hardest not to let out any lewd noises. One of the men gives you a sideways glance but says nothing. You can feel the tip of the duke’s cock rubbing against your clit. You want to grind faster but would surely be found out.

  Finally, after agonizing minutes the two men get up and leave. You move your hips faster, your breath coming hard as your inhibition falters. You can tell the duke is close too. And once he cums he’ll be all the more receptive to whatever the Order wants from him.

  The duke tries to reposition his cock to go inside you. The thought of betraying Vale with this act fills you with dread. You have given your body to the Order and the Old Ones. Soiling it with this man would be blasphemy. You try to stop him.

  “Do you want everyone to see us?” he breathes into your ear. “I can make a scene if that’s what you want. Let everyone here know what the Dorian whore is willing to do. Most people here are old enough to remember the Order. They won’t be kind.”

  You can’t risk exposing yourself to all these people. Vale has been planning the quiet takeover of Tyven for a long time, and sudden public exposure would only ruin the Order’s chances. You let the duke guide the tip of his cock inside of you then lower yourself down onto his lap. The sensation of him inside you makes you feel dirty, not worthy of Vale’s favor. You are so much more than this, you tell yourself as you move your hips against his crotch.

  The duke bucks back against you, pressing you into the table. You try to stop him but he only fucks you harder. Anyone looking your way would know what the duke is doing to you.

  You grab the edge of the table to steady yourself, knocking over a goblet of wine in the process. The duke’s embarrassed-looking page scrambles to mop up the mess while actively avoiding acknowledging what his happening beside him. You feel the duke’s muscles clench and you stand up before he can cum inside you. His cum splatters your thigh instead.

  You sit back down next to him. Your face is flushed and your breathing heavy. The duke strokes your hair gently.

  “Now what was it you wanted?”

  “There’s a private party upstairs,” you say, straightening your dress. “I thought you might want to attend with me.”

  The duke replies, “Sorry, but I think I’ll wait to see which side has the upper hand before making any new alliances.”

  “It’s not political,” you lie. “I wanted a date.”

  The duke chuckles. “Maybe so, but I’m too weak to resist what those Dorians offer. It’s better I stay away.”

  You feel a swell of energy deep in your gut, magic wanting to manifest itself. Something tells you that you could persuade the duke to follow you if only you tapped into this power.

  Use your magic.

  Let him go.

  “Sit on my lap,” the duke tells you.

  You get up to sit on the man’s large thigh. He circles your waist with one arm, while his other hand gathers the skirts of your dress up around your knees. The tabletop mostly hides you from those around you, though anyone walking past might catch a glimpse of the duke’s hand up your dress. No doubt the young man attending the duke is getting an eyeful.

  “So what do you want from me?” the duke asks, rubbing your slit through your panties.

  You ask him what he means.

  “Everything is a transaction, even pleasure. It’s how things work here. You want something for Doria.”

  His finger traces the line of your pussy and circles your clit. You can feel yourself getting wet.

  You open your mouth to reply but he shushes you. “No need to talk business just yet. We’re still getting to know each other.”

  The duke teases you through your soaked panties, the wet fabric clinging lewdly to your body.

  “This is feeling a little one-sided,” he says.

  He nudges aside his robe to reveal his erect cock. He guides your hand to it and has you stroke it. You move your hand up and down the fat member, feeling a blush creep up your face. You see a couple women across the hall looking at you. They can’t possibly see what you are doing, but you feel self-conscious all the same.

  “Let’s get better acquainted,” the duke says, making you sit in the middle of his lap so that your legs straddle his and your pussy grinds against his cock. His hands grasp your hips to slowly move them back and forth.

  “That’s it,” he says as you follow his movements, your arousal growing though you fear being found out.

  A pair of men come to sit across from you at the table. You smile politely at them, hoping they don’t notice the slight movement of your body or the blush in your cheeks. But they don’t seem to be paying you much mind.

  The duke swats at his page. “Pour these men a drink,” he says in a booming voice. Wine sloshes as the young man hurries to fill the empty goblets and pass them across the table. You stop moving as the men look your way.

  The duke introduces himself to the two men and asks where they are from. You avoid eye contact, shrinking down as the duke paws at you under the table.

  “The Sandstone Isles,” one of the men replies. “Our uncle was supposed to come but had business to attend to. We’re only here to relay back the king’s announcement, and not get into any trouble.”

  The duke laughs. “Well I don’t pity you.” He nudges aside your panties and prompts you to start moving again. You obey him cautiously, your own arousal outweighing your fear.

  The duke continues to talk to them as you try your hardest not to let out any lewd noises. One of the men gives you a sideways glance but says nothing. You can feel the tip of the duke’s cock rubbing against your clit. You want to grind faster but would surely be found out.

  Finally, after agonizing minutes the two men get up and leave. You move your hips faster, your breath coming hard as your inhibition falters. You can tell the duke is close too. And once he cums he’ll be all the more receptive to whatever the Order wants from him.

  The duke tries to reposition his cock to go inside you. The thought of betraying Vale with this act fills you with dread. You have given your body to the Order and the Old Ones. Soiling it with this man would be blasphemy. You try to stop him.

  “Do you want everyone to see us?” he breathes into your ear. “I can make a scene if that’s what you want. Let everyone here know what the Dorian whore is willing to do. Most people here are old enough to remember the Order. They won’t be kind.”

  You can’t risk exposing yourself to all these people. Vale has been planning the quiet takeover of Tyven for a long time, and sudden public exposure would only ruin the Order’s chances. You let the duke guide the tip of his cock inside of you then lower yourself down onto his lap. The sensation of him inside you makes you feel dirty, not worthy of Vale’s favor. You are so much more than this, you tell yourself as you move your hips against his crotch.

  The duke bucks
back against you, pressing you into the table. You try to stop him but he only fucks you harder. Anyone looking your way would know what the duke is doing to you.

  You grab the edge of the table to steady yourself, knocking over a goblet of wine in the process. The duke’s looking-looking page scrambles to mop up the mess while actively avoiding acknowledging what his happening beside him. You feel the duke’s muscles clench and you stand up before he can cum inside you. His cum splatters your thigh instead.

  You sit back down next to him. Your face is flushed and your breathing heavy. The duke strokes your hair gently.

  “Now what was it you wanted?”

  “There’s a private party upstairs,” you say, straightening your dress. “I thought you might want to attend with me.”

  The duke replies, “Sorry, but I think I’ll wait to see which side has the upper hand before making any new alliances.”

  “It’s not political,” you lie. “I wanted a date.”

  The duke chuckles. “Maybe so, but I don’t trust myself to resist what those Dorians offer. It’s better I stay away.”

  You feel a swell of energy deep in your gut, magic wanting to manifest itself. Something tells you that you could persuade the duke to follow you if only you tapped into this power.

  Use your magic.

  Let him go.

  “There’s a private party upstairs,” you tell him, leaning close to whisper in his ear. “I thought you might want to attend with me.”

  “There’s plenty of time for both,” the duke says. “Indulge me a little and I’ll be happy to go with you.”

  “Wouldn’t you prefer some privacy?” you ask.

  The duke chuckles. “Wouldn’t you prefer a thrill?”

  You will not bend to this man’s desire for your body. Nor will you leave the feast empty-handed.

  The duke pushes you. “You just need more to drink. Loosen up a bit.”

  “I know where we can drink some of the best wine in the kingdom,” you offer. “Come upstairs and I’ll show you just how much fun I can be.”

  You stroke his chest playfully. His cheeks go even redder than they already were from the wine. He finally agrees to go with you.

  You take him by the arm and lead him out of the hall, enduring his talk about his dukedom and its fertile maidens. Though Vale didn’t tell you exactly where the private party was being held, you seem to instinctively know where to go. You lead the duke into the upper reaches of the castle, through the quiet and secluded corridors that only those intimate with the castle would know.

  You pass through a stone archway draped with black curtains. Beyond is a room filled with Order members and guests from the feast. Red candles are placed on different surfaces and in sconces, and an open space has been cleared in the middle of the room. A circular symbol is carved into the stone floor. Many of the nobles are in various states of undress, occupying themselves with the shackled slaves both human and demonic that are apparently here for their entertainment.

  Your gaze falls on the king seated in a plush chair, a buxom woman bobbing her head between his legs. Beside him are several uncomfortable-looking guardsmen.

  Vale emerges from another doorway and greets your guest. “Please, make yourself comfortable,” he says, guiding the duke to sit on a plush lounge chair and putting a drink in his hand. He beckons over a scantily clad woman with a chain around her neck to sit on the duke’s lap, then moves you away to talk in private.

  “I trust he wasn’t too unruly,” Vale looks sideways at the duke who is already pawing eagerly at his new playtoy. You think Vale might slit the man’s throat if you say otherwise.

  “He wasn’t,” you reply. “Did I do well?”

  Vale lifts a gloved hand to your cheek. “You did perfectly, kitten.”

  His touch makes you weak, as does his praise.

  “He will make a perfect sacrifice.”

  Vale shouts something in Dorian and the guests clear to the edges of the room, revealing a large circular symbol carved into the center of the stone floor. The king shoes away the woman sucking his cock and tucks himself back into his robes.

  Vale stands in the center of the circle. “Dear guests, it’s time for the main event.”

  Two mages escort the duke from his seat to the center of the circle. He looks like he’s been drugged. There must have been something in the wine Vale gave him. The mages force him to kneel before Vale.

  “As a gift of good faith from Doria to Tyven, I have offered the king that which he most desires in this world. I will give him his wife, the very queen who sadly passed away years ago.”

  There are a few murmurs in the crowd, but not nearly as many as you would have expected. It seems the people of Tyven have come to accept the existence of dark magic ever since the creatures were let loose on their city. It is just as Vale planned.

  “She will return to life as if she never left. She will not remember the suffering of death, only a long and peaceful sleep. The laws of magic are strict, however, and for every life we bring back we must sacrifice another.”

  Vale removes a long dagger from the folds of his robe. He holds it out to you. The jewels on the pommel shine as if alive.

  “Go on,” he says. “Let his blood flow free. Give Tyven back its queen.”

  Sacrifice the duke.

  Refuse the dagger.

  “There’s a private party upstairs,” you tell him, leaning close to whisper in his ear. “I thought you might want to attend with me.”

  “There’s plenty of time for both,” the duke says. “Indulge me a little and I’ll be happy to go with you.”

  “Wouldn’t you prefer some privacy?” you ask.

  The duke chuckles. “Wouldn’t you prefer a thrill?”

  You will not bend to this man’s desire for your body. Nor will you leave the feast empty-handed.

  The duke pushes you. “You just need more to drink. Loosen up a bit.”

  “I know where we can drink some of the best wine in the kingdom,” you offer. “Come upstairs and I’ll show you just how much fun I can be.”

  You stroke his chest playfully. His cheeks go even redder than they already were from the wine. He finally agrees to go with you.

  You take him by the arm and lead him out of the hall, enduring his talk about his dukedom and its fertile maidens. Though Vale didn’t tell you exactly where the private party was being held, you seem to instinctively know where to go. You lead the duke into the upper reaches of the castle, through the quiet and secluded corridors that only those intimate with the castle would know.

  You pass through a stone archway draped with black curtains. Beyond is a room filled with Order members and guests from the feast. Red candles are placed on different surfaces and in sconces, and an open space has been cleared in the middle of the room. A circular symbol is carved into the stone floor. Many of the nobles are in various states of undress, occupying themselves with the shackled slaves both human and demonic that are apparently here for their entertainment.

  Your gaze falls on the king seated in a plush chair, a buxom woman bobbing her head between his legs. Beside him are several uncomfortable-looking guardsmen.

  Vale emerges from another doorway and greets your guest. “Please, make yourself comfortable,” he says, guiding the duke to sit on a plush lounge chair and putting a drink in his hand. He beckons over a scantily clad woman with a chain around her neck to sit on the duke’s lap, then moves you away to talk in private.

  “I trust he wasn’t too unruly,” Vale looks sideways at the duke who is already pawing eagerly at his new playtoy. You think Vale might slit the man’s throat if you say otherwise.

  “He wasn’t,” you reply. “Did I do well?”

  Vale lifts a gloved hand to your cheek. “You did perfectly, kitten.”

  His touch makes you weak, as does his praise.

  “He will make a perfect sacrifice.”

  Vale shouts something
in Dorian and the guests clear to the edges of the room, revealing a large circular symbol carved into the center of the stone floor. The king shoes away the woman sucking his cock and tucks himself back into his robes.

  Vale stands in the center of the circle. “Dear guests, it’s time for the main event.”

  Two mages escort the duke from his seat to the center of the circle. He looks like he’s been drugged. There must have been something in the wine Vale gave him. The mages force him to kneel before Vale.

  “As a gift of good faith from Doria to Tyven, I have offered the king that which he most desires in this world. I will give him his wife, the very queen who sadly passed away years ago.”

  There are a few murmurs in the crowd, but not nearly as many as you would have expected. It seems the people of Tyven have come to accept the existence of dark magic ever since the creatures were let loose on their city. It is just as Vale planned.

  “She will return to life as if she never left. She will not remember the suffering of death, only a long and peaceful sleep. The laws of magic are strict, however, and for every life we bring back we must sacrifice another.”

  Vale removes a long dagger from the folds of his robe. He holds it out to you. The jewels on the pommel shine as if alive.

  “Go on,” he says. “Let his blood flow free. Give Tyven back its queen.”

  Sacrifice the duke.

  Refuse the dagger.

  “I wanted to protect you,” you say, confronting the subject you both had been dancing around until now. “I felt like it was the only way.”

  Jasper frowns, his eyes glistening with the beginnings of tears.