The force of the blow sent her careening away before she dropped onto her flank and slid along the floor. The metal spines released grating shrieks against the stone as she rolled to a stop. The Grandmaster recaptured his senses and advanced.
Tanya opened her helm and flung it free. The torn edges troubled her wound and she felt warmth drool down into her breastplate to mingle with the sweat of the fight. The pain was negligible, for she had endured far worse and relished it. Nevertheless, she had to win. To fail would let down her owners and that was a fate she could not face. The Queen ruled her, and her Master and Mistress owned her.
"By the Gods! Tanya!" he gasped when she looked up to regard her opponent's position.
"No longer!" she hissed.
"You do not need to continue like this. We can take you back and reverse what has been done to you."
"You think I want to go back to celibacy and abstinence? They've done things to me I couldn't believe possible, and I've enjoyed it. I abase myself at their feet and serve them with all my heart because I love them, old fool."
"No, it cannot be so!" he stated defiantly.
The puritan warrior was unable to process how someone could be so methodically corrupted. It meant that anyone could be converted just as she had been. Tanya needed a few seconds to recover, and upon seeing his aghast and revolted expression, she chose deliberately to use words to offend with their lewd crassness.
"Oh yes. They fuck me, they whip me, torture me, and I crawl on my hands and knees, on a leash. I am their pet, their plaything, their willing little slut. Any foul depraved act they want of me, I surrender to it with passion in my heart and wetness between my thighs!" she purred.
Tanya let her free hand run over her armoured breasts and thighs in a wanton manner. She slithered upon the floor to offer a licentious show that made the Grandmaster stagger back as he witnessed it.
Tanya leapt to her feet and slashed aside to knock the smaller of his two blades askew. A swing of his sword failed to meet her as she whirled and with a scream of rage, jerked her head forward. Her brow broke his nose with a brittle crunch. In that instant of incapacitation, her blade jolted back and fired forth once more. The tip clanged against his breastplate and with a clap and a pulse of purple light, it burst through. The blade instantly exploded from his back amidst dark spray.
The warrior roared and his cry threw red flecks up into the air. The droplets turned into a font as she wrenched the blade in rotating arcs and then tugged it free. The length was now soaked and dripped with thick strands of his blood.
The Grandmaster dropped to his knees. He regarded her with astonishment and an accusing stare.
"Tanya," he gurgled softly, and then collapsed onto his side with a heavy clatter.
"Goodbye, old friend," she whispered.
Picking up her broken helm and lost sword, Tanya marched from the monastery. Her work done, now it was time to play.
About the Author
Born and raised in London, Bruce was a Royal Marine Cadet, has worked in demolition, rainforest preservation and for the Ministry of Defense, Harvey Nichols and Selfridges, but writing was always his one true passion. He encountered a wonderful Californian and after marrying, they moved to San Francisco in '98 where he worked and played in the S&M community before relocating to Seattle a few years later. He has written many books and illustrated a number for other poublishers. Several works are under development into graphic novels and computer animated series/films.
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