Lovers and Beloveds

by MeiLin Miranda

  He spun around, stung. "You are a very impudent girl."

  "I'm a very truthful girl. You'd best get used to it, as you'll be getting a great deal of truth here." She smiled, and nodded her head toward him. "I told you, you'd like me."

  The imprint of her kiss still tingled on his lips--this fat girl with nothing to distinguish her, so arrogant in her confidence, so transparently artful in her arrangement of her curves. He remembered seeing her half-naked in the petitioner's room, the peaceful, absorbed face of the woman suckling at her breast, and how the wish to take the woman's place had flashed through him before he'd turned away, humiliated: he grew harder.

  "The way you stared at my breasts through the window of the petitioner's room," she said as if reading his mind, "I thought you were going to burst through the screen. Come satisfy your curiosity. I won't lay a hand on you."

  "I'm not worried about you laying a hand on me," he said, not moving. "I'm worried about my laying a hand on you."

  "Go ahead. Touch me, touch my breasts. I won't stop you. You can't touch them enough, in fact," she whispered.

  Temmin crossed to the couch and sat down, covering himself with his hands. If he touched her, what would stop him from flinging himself atop her, spreading her legs, holding her down and taking her? "I have to stay--to qualify until Neya's Day. If I touch you, I can't--I don't know if I can stop myself..."

  He hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes until a strong hand took his and placed it on Anda's breast. "You're safe," murmured Issak in his ear. "Never worry, you're safe here."

  "From what?" said Temmin, his voice cracking.

  "From yourself."

  "You don't understand, do you know what I want to do to her?" Temmin's hand gripped Anda's breast so hard the flesh flowed between his fingers.

  "I have a pretty clear idea of what you want to do to me," said Anda in amusement, "though I do wish you wouldn't squeeze quite so hard quite so soon."

  "Gently, start gently, Tem. There will be time enough for pain," said Issak, stroking his arm. He relaxed his grip without thinking, Issak's touch comforting and solid as he guided Temmin down on the couch beside Anda, then settled himself behind Temmin. Whatever happened, Issak was here.

  Temmin slid his arms around Anda from behind until his hands closed on her breasts, so soft and heavy, heavier than Arta's, kneading until she tilted her head back against his shoulder with a low growl. Under his fingers, her nipples grew hard, the wide circles of brown skin around them puckering and pebbling. "Are they supposed to do that?" he asked shyly. "It's not because I'm hurting you?"

  "No, you're not hurting me, it means I like it--or that it's cold out," she laughed. "It's normal. Don't yours do that?"

  He rolled her nipples between his fingers; he remembered Emmae liked it. "I hadn't really thought on it. So...it means you like my doing this?"

  "Very much." Anda turned over in his arms.

  "Show me what to do, what do you like, may I kiss--would it be good, would you like it if...?"

  She gathered up her breasts and offered them to his mouth.

  Hesitantly, he licked at a nipple; her scent was different here, a musky apricot. He pushed his nose between her breasts before his mouth found the nipple and took it in, running his tongue over its soft, crinkled skin. He ground himself against her, his worries that he might hurt her or push things too far gone, Issak's breath against his neck reassuring and warm, the hardness that had to be Issak pressing against him arousing and somehow comforting. He was safe. He took the nipple fully into his mouth and sucked.

  "Just like that," she whispered, rolling onto her back. "Pinch the other. No, both at the same--" Her words dissolved. Temmin growled and clutched at her breast, biting the nipple harder before releasing it and attacking the other one; Anda undulated beneath him in a fleshy wave, her thighs opening.

  A hand took his and guided it between her legs, slipping his fingers just inside. "This is a woman, this is what a woman feels like," murmured Issak.

  So wet, hot, and wet, and slippery, so different from anything Temmin had ever felt, though Emmae and Warin's lovemaking ghosted against his fingers and mouth. He rumbled deep in his chest, sucking harder at the nipple in his mouth, and tangled his fingers with Issak's in his eagerness. "Slowly, slowly," said Issak; he moved their joined fingers in maddening, gentle circles that left Anda squirming. He guided Temmin's fingers to the top of Anda's opening, grazing a hard nub there; Anda gasped and whimpered, jerking her hips. "That little bump? That's her clitoris," Issak said in his ear. "We call it the pearl. It's like a little prick, but you can't treat it like one." He set their fingers in a tight, soft spiral around the nub; a sort of hood of skin covered it, and more and more, Issak guided their fingers to slide it up and down. Anda's fingers tightened in Temmin's hair; her breathing became disordered, and he clung to the breast in his hand as she twisted beneath him. He took the nipple between his teeth again, just as Issak sped up the rhythm of their fingers inside her. She bucked and begged them not to stop, begged, and swore, and sobbed, until her climax rippled through her body, sending every inch of her shivering like an aspic. Issak slowed their fingers down and withdrew his own hand, but Temmin kept up lazy, amazed strokes on the inner lips, memorizing the silky, soaking fleshiness.

  "Owtch. That's enough," she giggled, pulling his hair. He stopped his fingers, and let go the nipple with a pop. "He needs his nails trimmed, Holy One."

  "He needs many things," said Issak. He plucked a cushion from the piles around them, tossed it to the floor, and knelt beside the couch, stroking Temmin's back.

  A rushing ache spread from his testicles; he rolled to one side and wrapped his hand around his shaft, but Anda stopped him. "On your back." He did as she said, and Issak kissed him, kissed him and didn't stop: insistent, firm, controlling, safe, maddening, absorbing until Anda's breath blew hot between his legs. A groan forced its way from him into Issak's mouth, and he fought against the restraining hands against his shoulders. A tongue licked at his balls, tasting him thoroughly, and he blurted a muffled "Holy Mother!"

  Tiny licks up the underside of his shaft, a ghost of a touch and somehow penetrating, ending at its slit. Anda took the head into her mouth, softly working at it, playing with the foreskin and running her tongue along the groove running down its underside. She swallowed all of him now, doing something intricate--teeth, tongue, he had no idea. It differed from his experience with Alvo: urgency without desperation, deliberate and directed, a pleasure that swelled and retreated in tides, instead of bursting from him in surprise.

  Issak forced his tongue inside Temmin's mouth just as Anda pressed firmly behind his balls, still sucking. His body curled up in response, but Issak kept him pinned and struggling. "Let her finish you," he whispered in Temmin's ear. Two long, harsh breaths, and Temmin came with a roaring sob.

  Issak put his head on the pillow beside Temmin, who lay there red, sweating, and barely awake; Anda crawled up beside him and kissed him, an unknown yet familiar taste on her lips. "Different," Temmin mumbled. "Was different."

  Issak ran his fingers gently up and down Temmin's golden-furred belly. "Men are better at it than women," he agreed.

  "Not this time," said Temmin.

  He fell into a doze as they petted him, and when he awoke, they were gone. He was starving, his stomach threatening to digest itself unless he ate, quickly. Something smelled good. A luncheon sat on the table: cold meat, cheese, fruit, pickles, cider, the good-smelling something being a loaf of still-warm bread. He ripped the top knot off, a habit that back home resulted in Cook chasing him out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon. He slathered a large knife-full of butter on the bread and devoured it, licking the melting butter from his fingers.

  He tore into the rest of the meal just as avidly, until Allis's voice said, "Do you always eat like that?"

  "'M growin'," Temmin answered through a mouthful of beef and cheese. He swallowed. "I'm always hungry. Please, sit. There's plenty," he added, gesturing a
t the still-laden table.

  Allis sat down next to him; the soft rasp of her linen Temple skirt against his thigh reminded him that he wore nothing at all, and he grabbed a pillow to cover himself, staining it with his greasy fingers. "You must accustom yourself to nudity, your own and others," she admonished him, tweaking the pillow away.

  "Why are you in clothes, then?"

  Her face broke into the closest thing he'd seen to a grin from her. "There will be time for that, never worry. Did you have a good nap?"

  "About that," he said, putting down the tumbler of cider. "Why did I fall asleep?"

  "You weren't tired from your exertions?"

  "I was wide awake during them, I assure you. I mean, at night I--that is--if I have trouble sleeping, it can help..." he trailed off.

  "Issak told me you said it was different. I take it you meant, different from your one experience of that kind with Alvo. Anda was practicing a certain technique. It works best on men. If one does it correctly, the receiver is so sated he falls asleep almost instantly."

  "Tell her from me she doesn't need to practice. She's mastered it."

  "We use it in many situations, often at the Healer's House--oh yes," she said at his dubious expression, "we work with the Sisters--with all of the Temples. We serve at the Healer's House, caring for the emotional needs of their petitioners, and Sisters serve here, caring for the physical needs of ours."

  "There are Sisters? Here?"

  "The Sisters help us with contraception training, recognizing illnesses, that sort of thing. Sometimes, the sick come to us first. They're too ashamed to see a Sister, and go to one of these modern doctors..." She shook her head. "Frauds. By the time people finally come to us, and from us to someone who can really help them, it's often too late. Once a year or so, a man's heart will give out in the throes of passion. First the Sisters try to help, and if they can't, the Friends are called to take him to the Hill."

  Temmin shivered. "I can't imagine a Friend here. All hooded in black robes." The robes brought Teacher to mind, which led to the voice in the chapel, and from there to thoughts of the upcoming Supplicancy vows on Neya's Day. "Allis," he began, "what's going to happen? I mean, on Neya's Day. Do I just swear a vow before the Most Highs and that's the end of it, or...?"

  "You will take two sets of vows. The first will be before the Most Highs the night before. The second will be in communion with the Goddess on the night itself."

  "What kind of communion?"

  "She'll take your virginity, Temmin, what do you think?" Allis said, amused.

  He went pink. "Then you'll be responsible for me, yes?"

  "No," she said. She flicked her slender fingers over the remains of his lunch. "Are you going to eat these grapes?" She popped one in her mouth, seeds, thick skin, and all. "Mmm. In a way, I will be. But really, Neya will be responsible for you. She will be bound to you, and you to Her. My body, but Her Spirit."

  "I remember what you said about puppets. But tell me, what's actually going to happen? Where will we be, what words must I say?"

  Allis nodded to herself, absently peeling and seeding a second grape. "You don't need to memorize anything. You'll be told the words to repeat. The night before, you will take your first vow. The next night, you will help bring down the God into Issak--Anda will help bring down the Goddess into me. It's not a comfortable sight, I warn you now. The Gods will then enact the Chase, the people will watch until They are through, and then you will present yourself. If They accept you, They will take you back to the ceremonial bedchamber."

  "If?"

  "They may judge you unacceptable. In that case, the blame falls on the Most Highs, Issak, and me, and we will pay for it, not you. But if you've lied about your status, They'll kill you--at the least, you. Maybe us, too."

  "I swear, Allis, I swear--"

  "Neya will initiate you and accept your final vow to belong to this Temple for two years and two days. And then your Supplicancy will begin."

  Temmin spent the rest of the day trotting after Allis and Issak, with Anda and Senik trailing behind all three. They met with higher clergy, sat in on a nervous postulant class identifying anatomy on one another before a stern but surprisingly unpuckered Sister, and then a quiet tea with Anda and Senik.

  Perhaps, thought Temmin, he should begin his studies on his own if he were to be serious about this business. For instance, Senik fascinated him. As the handsome postulant moved first among the hallway crowds and then the small group in the Supplicants Chamber, he changed from moment to moment, instantly shifting to reflect whoever he spoke with. Was he really as beautiful as Temmin had first thought? Yes, and that affected how others treated him, certainly--it was clear Senik was a great favorite, much called on by the Most Highs for various tasks, and the Embodiments' servant of choice. Even so, Temmin detected a deep desire to please behind the sly, insinuating smile. Or was that just the face he turned toward Temmin? Either way, Temmin was pleased with himself for his growing discernment, until Senik caught him looking and to his surprise rebuked him. "Don't think you know me, Your Highness. You haven't learned a thing yet."

  Dinner ended the evening, a dinner served communally at low tables in a dining hall. Temmin, the Most Highs and the Holy Ones sat a little above the ranks of Lovers and Beloveds in their linens of varying shades of rose; the postulant Lovers wore red and sat each with a Beloved, the postulant Beloveds in white and paired with a Lover. Issak and Allis alone wore undyed linen. As visiting royalty, Temmin wore the dark red of his family.

  The lightweight linen clothes made life in the warm rooms much more bearable--pleasant, in fact--and Temmin grew more used to feeling underdressed and overexposed. By the time the evening ended back on the wide couches of the Supplicants Chamber, he was comfortable and acclimated, in mind as well as body, and anticipating the night. "So," he began, "what happens now?"

  "Oh, lots of things," said Allis. She stood and raised her arms over her head, stretching back and away in a smooth, shallow curve; her breasts strained against the linen of her shirt, and her belly peeked from under its hem. "I'll leave you to it."

  "Where are you going? When will you be back?"

  "In the morning," she said. "I'll see you before you leave, never worry."

  "Tonight is for us," said Issak, sliding his hand up Temmin's neck to play with the hair at his nape.

  "I thought it was for all of us," said Temmin, disappointed.

  "Don't be greedy," she laughed, and kissed him. "One thing at a time. Good night, now." She kissed her brother, and glided out of the room.

  "Is it so very bad to be left with me?" said Issak.

  "No, no," stammered Temmin. "I just--generally speaking, I prefer women, and Allis in particular, and--"

  "To serve here, you must enjoy male company as well as female, regardless of your natural inclinations. It's not difficult, with training. Few people are focused exclusively on one sex or another, though it's true the Temple attracts those with the most fluid ideas about sex."

  "Is sex with men like Mentoring?"

  "Nothing like. That's a temporary arrangement--it's more about the submission of the young to the old. This is more a matter of service, though power often plays into it. Politics as well. All of society is about dominance and submission, really."

  "I don't understand. What does sex have to do with politics?"

  "Sex is about everything, and everything is about sex, at least as you contemplate the Mysteries this Temple is trying to teach you," said Issak. "I don't know what they teach in the other Temples. For all I know, Farr's priests teach that everything is about battle and battle is about everything, in fact, I'd bet on it. But I am not the Embodiment of Farr, or Eddin, or Pagg. I am the Embodiment of Nerr. I'm here to teach you what I know, and to guide you closer to the Gods on Nerr's path." The stroking fingers against Temmin's nape turned into a fist tangled tightly in his hair, pulling his head back. "Don't be disappointed. What you learn tonight will bring you closer to understanding women
."

  Temmin thought he already understood women, or at least Emmae, but how could he explain that without sounding ridiculous? He leaned his head into Issak's hand to relieve the painful grip on his hair, but Issak redoubled it, pulling Temmin close against his chest. "You're hurting me."

  "Nerr's path is sometimes painful. But this only hurts if you fight it," murmured Issak.

  A faraway voice came to Temmin: Gian telling Emmae, "The more you fight it, the worse it will be."

  "Oh," said Temmin. "Oh, you can't possibly--what are you going to do, Issak?"

  Issak slipped his free arm around Temmin, pinning him. Temmin had a height advantage, and had always assumed that with it came physical superiority, but he soon found out Issak was stronger. "I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to let me," Issak laughed, a low rumble that sent a shiver through Temmin.

  "And why would I do that?"

  Issak gave his hair a sharp shake. "Because I am your teacher, and you are my student. Because you have been spoiled all your life, and you need to give in to someone else's desires for once. Because you want me to."

  "I don't want that," groaned Temmin, though his head swam; all of his blood had rushed between his legs, and his cock pressed insistently against the thin linen trousers.

  Issak yanked him not unkindly to his feet; Temmin gave no resistance to the untying of the drawstring round his waist. Issak let go Temmin's hair, pulled his shirt over his head and pushed him back down on the couch, then undressed and joined him. "On your side away from me," murmured Issak. "You obey me so easily. Why is that?"

  "I don't know," whimpered Temmin. Issak smiled against his shoulder. Cool, slippery liquid poured down the crevice of his ass; Issak spread it with teasing fingers. Temmin gasped, and Issak sank a slippery finger inside him.

  "Relax," purred Issak against his neck.

  "It--it's very--I'm not--"

  "It's just the tip of one finger. Don't fight me. Let go. It will hurt otherwise. There--there, just relax. Push out. That's right, good boy." Issak pushed the finger in, pulled out, and pushed back in, always slow, always advancing. Odd, shivery pleasure overtook the initial pain, so like what Emmae had experienced until Issak hooked his finger and pushed at one spot. Stars went off behind Temmin's eyelids; Emmae had never felt anything like that. It forced a low shout from deep inside him, and Issak chuckled. "That's your walnut. You like that, eh?"