by Anya Howard
Bruce’s voice shook, “You can’t do this. She is mine!”
“I can do whatever I deem proper,” Madam retorted. “Now, return to the guards’ compound and resume your daily routine. I shall certainly see to it that the Warden does not deal unfairly with you over this.”
Gillian’s heart sank. She raised her head defiantly and looked at Bruce. His hands were knotted into fists at his hips and his brow heavily furrowed. She feared he would yell at Madam and lose in a single heated moment all they had rediscovered. Forgetting everything else, Gillian stood and looked Madam directly in her eyes.
Madam’s reprimand was low but cautioning. “Gillian!”
Gillian shook her head. “I love Bruce,” she declared. “I do not wish to be anyone’s Disciple except his.”
Madam’s face was hard, but Gillian saw what looked to be a suppressed smile on her lips. Her eyes were patient. At length she asked, “Do you think you love this man?”
“I know I do!”
Bruce strode to Gillian’s side. He took her hand, and she held fast to it and felt the burning tears gush over her cheeks. “I love him! I cannot bear to be away from him. Nor do I care for any pleasure—in this world or any other—except to be his and his alone.”
Madam’s eyes closed, and the smile ripened full and sweet on her lips. When she looked at them again, a flash of amber glowed in her eyes. Gillian felt uneasy, as if for a fleeting moment, she was looking not simply at Madam, but someone else she knew but could not place. Power, gentle and subtle, radiated from the woman, tempering the atmosphere with a sweetness as unrefined and unearthly as the Ur’theriems’ angelic powers.
“So, Sir Bruce,” she said, “you love Gillian and you say she is yours. What does this exactly mean to you?”
Bruce’s brow darkened. “She is mine to love, mine to discipline, mine to cherish. I cannot, will not, let any other man…” His words trailed, but the intensity of his declaration hung in the air.
“You two leave us no choice,” Madam answered. She closed her eyes again and let her head fall back on her shoulders. Her arms raised heavenward. At once, the morning skies outside the windows darkened. Lightning flashed in the distance, and the scenery outside the household vanished before their eyes. A flood of rainbow-colored light waved over the glass panes. Gillian heard a crackling of soft sound and saw the wicks of all the candles in the room kindle to flame. No one had touched them, but the flames glowed full and radiant. It was the last thing Gillian saw before darkness engulfed the room.
She clung to Bruce and felt his steady lips press her brow.
“We’re together,” he whispered. “I will not let you go.”
In seconds the darkness began to pale. Shadows fell over them and soft sunlight danced through these across their limbs. When her vision cleared, Gillian saw that they stood together in center of the Temple of Purity. The golden altar had been moved to the north quadrant and before this altar stood Madam and Xaqriel. For a moment, Madam’s skin glowed an intense white. When the moment had passed, she now wore a regal gown of purest white, with a high stiff collar that shimmered with tiny garnets and pearls. Gillian saw again the amber glint in her eyes and something told her that time did not exist in this moment and place. Only the inner, true meaning that was Nemi existed, and they all stood now in the nucleus of it.
Xaqriel spoke to Bruce, “You wish this woman to be your sole and beloved Disciple?”
Bruce took a deep, steadying breath. But his voice was undaunted as he answered. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
“And you, Gillian, have found the master of your pleasure and heart in this man?”
Gillian’s breast beat resolutely. “Oh yes!”
At Xaqriel’s nod, Madam turned to the altar. A slim silver box lay there. This she lifted and turning, spoke, “As in the flesh, so in the spirit. Union of one soul with another so they may be as the god and the goddess: One Eternal. As you were drawn from the Beginning, so forever shall you be drawn. Return home and accept this gift and know that you are blessed among men and women through the reciprocal desire that expresses union of the eternal.”
Madam held the box out to Bruce. With a relieved look, he released Gillian’s hand and accepted it. At once the light grew dusky pink and a temperate wind buoyed the branches of the trees. Xaqriel’s wings appeared, and clasping Madam about the waist, he ascended from the ground. Toward the cloudless sky he sailed with her, winking out of sight in the next second just as suddenly as they had all been whisked from the household.
Gillian turned to Bruce and threw her arms around his neck. His kiss was gentle upon her cheek and he laughed softly.
“For a moment there—after she said return home—I thought she meant Earth.” He set the box down upon the altar and pulled his shirt off Gillian completely. His hands slid down over her hips and skimmed over her bare buttocks. He squeezed them and lifted her from the ground so that she felt his hard cock rub against her pubis.
Gillian gyrated greedily and ran her fingers wildly through his hair. “It doesn’t matter. Wherever you are is home for me.”
“Yes,” he said, “but I’d as soon enjoy you in Nemi for as long as possible.”
He kissed her again, and her body felt as if it were melting against the very flame of creation.
“I want you now,” he murmured, “but let’s get home and see this gift.”
Frustrated, Gillian wanted to resist. But she did not mind the idea of being alone with him in his chalet. Here, she feared the Ur’theriems might be listening; in the chalet, she could share her vow in privacy and show Bruce how truly she would honor her words. So she nodded and, retrieving the silver box, took his hand. Together they left the Temple and took the path that led home.
Once they were alone in the chalet den, Gillian opened the silver box. Inside was a piece of jewelry: a black leather cord sleeved by golden filigree.
“A choker,” Bruce said. He lifted it from the box and held it up to the sunlight coming through the windows. “Or more precisely, a love slave’s collar.”
Gillian blushed and he bade her to pull her hair aside. He strung the choker gingerly over her head and pinned the antique clasp at the back of her neck. The filigree tickled her throat slightly, but she liked the snug, cool feel of it. Bruce lifted her hair and let it fall slowly over her shoulders as he admired the choker.
“Naked and properly collared,” he mused. The lusty smile that came to his lips made Gillian tingle. But she wanted to say something very important and the moment seemed perfect. She sank to her knees on the rug they had made love on before and lowered her cheek over his shoe.
“I am your love slave,” she vowed. “I have loved you before I knew you, such a long time! Now it is unbearable to think that we may be separated. I vow to you, Bruce, that I want no other. I shall never seek any other master of my heart. You are my only love and desire.”
The love shining in Gillian’s eyes nearly took Bruce’s breath away. She was sincere and intelligent, vibrant and adventurous. All the important things he had ever really sought in a woman. No woman had ever looked at him the way she did now—as if life was nothing without him being there to share it. And he wanted the same. So lovely, body and soul. It humbled him. His gratitude was boundless. The realm of Nemi had given him this second chance.
He cupped her face. “You are everything I want, Gillian. My fidelity is only to you. I will spend the rest of my life loving you, enjoying the sound of your voice and your company. Whatever may come, in this world or any other, I will be your champion, friend, and lover.”
Bruce pulled her up and held her close. The feel of her trembling, desirous mouth was the greatest possession a man could enjoy. He massaged her pussy. Her cleft was damp to the touch and as he treasured the silken heat against his fingers, Gillian moaned and her nipples swelled into hard pink nodules against his chest.
“Oh Master!” She touched his hard cock and moaned again. But Bruce smiled and pulled her hand away.
&n
bsp; “No, young lady,” he warned. “You may touch me only with permission.”
Her eyes flew open wildly. “Master, please?”
It was wicked delight to have her so frustrated. He turned her about by the waist and inclined her back against his shoulder. He stroked her clit until her pussy was sticky and her tight ass undulated fitfully against his hip. He loved how her upturned cheeks warmed him and how her deepening moan resonated with animal need.
His own need was growing dire, too. But he wanted so to see her frustrated a little more. So he led her by the hand to one of the leather-seated stools that stood at the bar.
He pulled it back a ways and said, “Lean across this seat and take hold of the legs. And don’t you dare let go until you are permitted.”
Gillian obeyed, all the more anxious because she could not see what he was doing. She felt his hands grasp her ass cheeks; he plumped them a little, and then gave her a hard spank. A pang of heat spiraled through her. His strong fingers cupped over her pussy. He stroked her clit until it beat wildly. Her moans were decadent and she could not keep her hips from moving shamelessly.
“Oh Master, fuck me!”
He did not answer, but continued to torment her until she was breathless. His fingers delved into her pussy a time or two, and then he parted her ass cheeks and, bending over, blew on her little anus. It tickled, but then he probed a finger inside. An intrusive sensation bolted through her. It was strangely pleasurable and intimidating at once.
His voice was husky, “This body belongs to me, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, sir,” she crooned.
“Yes, sir, indeed. It pleases me to see you so frustrated, Gillian, to feel you so wet and anxious, and to know that you will know no satisfaction until I give it to you.”
She moaned wantonly as he stepped back. Her flesh seared for more of his touch. She heard him undress, and when she tried to look through the stool legs to catch a glimpse, he made a disapproving sound. At once he laid one hand on the small of her back. With the palm of the other, he spanked her thoroughly. She began to cry, though whether from the pain, humiliation, or from raw need, she could not guess. She held tightly to the stool legs and listened with chagrin to the echo of the crisp spanks against the walls. When at last he seemed satisfied, her buttocks were flaming. But she did not try again to peek and kept her eyes dutifully to the floor.
Moments later she felt the head of his warm, hot cock press against her fount. He grasped her hips and lifted them a bit, then drove into her. He was hard and enormous inside her. He fucked her with strong, fast strokes. She moved her hips as much as possible to meet each slapping thrust. Deeper and deeper he seemed to drive into her. Her pleasure intensified and suddenly she climaxed. The power of it was incredible. And still his cock rocked in and out of her, until at last he came with a low groan.
Gillian’s nether lips were still shuddering with sensation as he lifted her up from the stool. His mouth moved down her spine as he went to his knees behind her. He imparted several loving kisses across her thighs and the backs of her knees.
“Gillian,” he said, “you’ve mastered me entirely.”
She was giddy with happiness. Turning in his arms, she bowed and kissed the top of his head.
“Shall I spank you now, Master?” she teased.
His dark eyes flashed. “I see I still have a lot to teach you about suitable behavior,” he said.
He stood up now and smacked her ass lightly. But he was grinning as they embraced. “I suppose you know that I will enjoy every moment of your education, my dear Disciple of Pleasure?”
“Oh yes,” Gillian sighed. She closed her eyes and inhaled his fragrance until her senses felt close to bursting. “And I plan to enjoy every moment just as much, my Master!”
It was early morning when Gillian awakened to the delicious sensation of Bruce’s lips grazing her throat. He threw back the bedsheet and suckled her nipples, then, unfolding her thighs, rubbed her pussy until she was, very soon, wantonly wet. He watched the emotions on her face as he tantalized her, smiling in that proud, amused way that made her whole body smolder.
“You’re mine, all mine,” he whispered.
Gillian’s hips strained toward him, and she touched his cock, finding it hard and ready under her caressing fingers. She whimpered earnestly. “Please, Master,” she begged. “Take me, please…!”
Bruce pulled her fiercely into his embrace and kissed her mouth. “You possess me, slave girl!” he sighed. “Mount me now and ride, but slowly. I want to savor the feel of that pussy bouncing up and down on me.”
Gillian got to her knees and straddled him. His huge organ penetrated deeply, and it was all she could do not to ride fast. Slowly she rode, her body awash with sensation, her soul craving his firm hand with her. But his mouth parted ever so slightly, and his hips lifted so that his cock pierced her to her wanting core. He seized her hips and thrust her up and down rapidly. Gillian cried out, and her body flushed as her sensations coalesced into a violent orgasm. Bruce’s hips drove against her shuddering sex, and she felt his own climax deep inside her.
Breathless, Gillian gazed down at him in repose. Triumphant. Her heart panged and she swept down to deliver a dozen fevered kisses to his lips. He growled low and pulled her down upon the mattress again. With his fingers he touched her slick pussy and caressed her throbbing clit.
“Oh, Master,” Gillian moaned.
He kissed her tenderly now. “I love you so much, Gillian.”
“I love you, too,” she said. “More than anyone can ever know.”
They snuggled together in the love-dewed sheets, until the first rays of dawn shone through the bedroom windows. Bruce eventually went back to sleep with his face pressed against Gillian’s breasts. For a long time she combed her fingers through his short dark hair. But at length she felt a hunger pang and thought she’d go to the kitchen for something to eat.
Kissing his forehead, she slid softly out of bed and found one of his plain white guard’s shirts laid across a chair nearby. She slipped this on and touched the collar at her throat. Exquisite it was, a black leather cord sheathed by golden filigree—an honored gift from Madam when a few nights past she and Bruce had avowed their love in the Temple of Purity. Gillian thrilled to remember those sacred moments. Smiling, she silently thanked the Creator for her fortune and padded out of the bedroom and made her way through the chalet den and into the kitchen.
Doughnuts. The other thing she craved. There were several stacked on a plate and covered with a glass dome. Gillian removed the dome and, taking a doughnut, ate it quickly. She was amused at her hunger, which was more ravenous than usual.
“He sure knows how to give a girl an appetite,” she said aloud.
She was sleepy still as she took out a second doughnut and went to stand by the tall narrow window. The view overlooked a fountain pool here in the guards’ compound. The water was placid, the surface shimmering with the tangerine and purple reflections of dawn’s first light. Gillian nibbled on the doughnut as she gazed at the water and contemplated her present situation. How very fortunate she felt—and how very loved. Gillian had been brought to Nemi by an angel of delight to be a Disciple of Pleasure; and in the end, had found it in the man she’d thought had abandoned her on Earth. Nemi had given her and Bruce a second chance to own up to the mutual desires they’d always hidden, even from each other.
In the end, Bruce had measured up to everything Gillian had hoped for, and more. She was Bruce’s personal love slave, and he her beloved master.
Gillian finished the last bite of doughnut and yawned. She was ready to return to bed, and her drowsy mind filled with fantasies about Bruce. She returned the glass dome to the tray and just as she started to go out the kitchen, a movement of light from the window caught her attention.
It seemed that the sky had changed drastically. Curiously, Gillian stepped to the window. Indeed, the sky was different from what she could see, the beautiful prisms of morning muted and the
clouds covered over by what appeared to her eyes as heavy yellow smoke that descended over the fountain outside. The water in the pool whipped haphazardly. Whirls of smoke curled over the outside of the pane. Uneasy, Gillian backed away, and then she saw something manifest on the inside: what appeared to be a moist circle cut into the glass. Curls of smoke infiltrated the design and entered the house. It reeked of sulphur, this smoke, and at once Gillian felt a sense of terrible dread at the smell of it.
“Sir Bruce!” she called. As the tendrils of smoke moved toward her face, she felt whipped by them. At once she was afraid, and she tried to run to the door, but her body was overcome by the need to sleep. She felt herself slumping against the wall, and knew she was sinking but there was nothing she could do to stop it. She heard the shattering of glass, and the next moment it seemed the entire tawny sky whipped through the window. Gillian was blinded by a sulfurous haze. She tried to scream, but the sound was soft as a lullaby in her ears. “Sir Bruce!”
Gillian could not see, not even squinting, and the smoke took substance all about her. It gripped her hands, and though she tried to knock it off, it clung all the more. Her nostrils smarted from the smell, but when she coughed, it receded and a perfume like wilting flowers filled her senses.
A voice, raspy and paper-thin, croaked nearby, “Disciple!”
The startled cry that came to her mouth was silenced by an unfamiliar mouth. Its leathered lips pressed into her own, burning them like live coals and filling her throat with a flavor of rotten eggs just beneath the taste of perfume.
She struggled against the force, and as she flailed at this thing, felt substance and shape in the haze. Limbs, torso, a long, muscular back, all encased in leathered skin.
As the arid mouth began to sweep down to her neck, invisible knees forced her thighs apart. She felt large hands open her vulva. Terrified, she screamed and beat against whatever hallucination or dream had taken possession of her. At once, its unseen hands grabbed her arms and pressed them to her sides. The mouth swooped over her left breast and sucked the whole of it into its hollows. A great cock crushed into her vagina, wounding the delicate inside flesh with its sharp, scalding head.