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Unsidhe Assassin (Darkly Mine Season 1)

Page 8

by Leona Windwalker


  I closed my eyes and did as he asked, the acrid tang from a drop of urine clinging to the tip hitting my tongue. I gagged.

  “Don’t you dare,” he warned me, the light beginning to flare once more. I forced my gorge down. Once I stopped heaving, he patted me on the head like a damned dog. “You can let go now.” I released him and he strode away to the sink. I pressed the button to flush.

  “Come on,” he said. “It’s bath time.”

  I followed him into the next room. A luxurious tub carved from marble filled the space, a seat at one end. Someone sitting on it would have their feet and lower legs in the water, with full access to a person sitting in the tub.

  “Go on, undress and go sit.”

  I untied my loincloth and let it drop onto the floor. Clambering in and plonking my ass on the seat, I found the water to be warm, but not steaming. It felt silky against the skin and a subtle herbal scent wafter out from it. I was reminded of my childhood, to a time before my mother left us. She kept a box of Calgon in the bathroom and I once tipped some into my bathwater. Thankfully, neither of my parents had ever found out, or I’d have gotten a whipping. The Calgon was one of the sole luxuries afforded to my mother, and my father would be pissed at me wasting it because he’d have to cough up a couple of bucks sooner to get her a new box. I settled into a comfortable position and waited, head down, for him to get in. Head bowed to look as if I was giving him respect while it also kept him from seeing the genuine fear and anger warring within me. I could school my face into impassivity, but my eyes would spill all my secrets if I wasn’t careful.

  20

  Willow

  The magic-infused salts did away with my need to swallow a philter. Bonus: my sulking boy behaved himself during my bath and washed me as he should, his fingers surprisingly gentle but firm as he massaged my scalp while washing my hair. He kept his head down and followed close to my heels after we got out of the tub, so quiet that he didn’t query as usual when I drew a rune in the air and dried us both off. He obediently redressed me, still saying nothing when I did not give him permission to redon his loincloth.

  I walked us from my bedroom and into the living room where a large wooden cross sat in the middle of the room. The furnishings were pushed along the wall to make room for it and the few dozen of my small guard. Keeper was present as was Washer and Pool, the two lower fae responsible for washing the textiles and window and filling the basins and tubs as needed. I stopped in front of the X-shaped cross, turning to find Ghost had stopped as soon as he’d caught sight of it.

  “Come forward and face your punishment,” I told him sternly. “You’ve been rude and disobedient, even after having the rules you were breaking explained to you.

  His nostrils flared, and he gave a curt nod of acceptance. He walked forward, each step filled with the determination shining in his eyes. He appeared resolute to meet his punishment with fortitude. How long he could hold onto that, we would see. I was not going to stop until I broke him. He reached the cross and stepped up to it, placing an arm at each upper corner. Ash fastened his wrists, then kicked his legs apart and did the same again. I stroked a hand down the planes of his back, trailing down to his buttocks. Pulling my hand back, I licked the tip of a finger, then slipped it between his cheeks, finding his rosebud. He was tight, but it quivered beneath me as if in anticipation.

  “You’ve been fucked here before,” I said.

  “Yes,” came the terse reply. He tightened his shoulders and clenched his ass as he spoke as if anticipating me ramming my cock into him.

  “Relax, I’m not going to fuck you. I am going to shove something up your ass, though.”

  He took a deep breath, then released it with an air of angry resignation. We waited silently, watching as he forced himself to relax. Once he had, I walked over to the small box on the coffee table and opened it. I took out a pear-shaped device. Like it’s deadly predecessor, the pear of anguish was pear-shaped and had a key at the larger end for one to turn. Unlike the pear of anguish, it wasn’t designed to cause internal damage. Instead, it widened the solid sides of the pear, the fullest setting as large as two men’s fists. It would cause exquisite agony, but done slowly, it wouldn’t cause any lasting harm. I lubed it up before placing a small dollop around and then just inside his rim with my finger. Putting the small end against his rim, I began to push slowly but steadily. Ghost started to pant, raising up on his tiptoes. He shook as he struggled to relax and let it in, to force himself to push out against it to take it in. The small top of the pear popped through his opening. Belt buckles clinked around us as members of the guards began to shuck their pants and take their cocks in hand. He stiffened as the sounds reached his ears.

  “No one else is going to touch you,” I promised him. He relaxed slowly once more, and I continued to press in. His pants grew harsher as the broadest part slid in. At last, it was all inside of him. I left it there, moving away to choose a flogger. I picked up my favorite, a cat o’ nine tails.

  “Count for me,” I told him, then laid my first hit across his left shoulder. He didn’t cry out.

  “One,” he grunted.

  I hit the other side, watching it redden his beautiful skin.

  “Two.”

  I began to let it dance, across his shoulders, along his back, across his ass. I stopped when he got to twenty, pausing only to turn the key on the pear one turn.

  “Hah!” he involuntarily shouted, jerking up onto his toes again.

  Satisfied with his response, I said to him, “You will address those of higher station than you with respect at all times. Genuine respect.” I swung the flogger once more. Another twenty, followed by two turns of the key. “You will refuse me nothing.”

  “Yes, sir,” he gasped out. I turned the key twice more, then swung.

  He was crying out now, loudest when I smacked where the pear nestled within his ass. I stopped after the next forty, placed the flogger away, and finished widening the pear. He shook with sobs, not caring that we heard him. I unfastened him, lowering him to the floor, rolling him on his back. Yes, the pear pressed in even harder that way, and the stripes on his skin were no doubt singing him songs of agony. That was the point. The men closed in, jacking off even harder now. Captain Glade came first with a shout, painting Ghost’s chest. That set off a cascade, and they painted him with ropes of cum. It was an erotic sight, but we still weren’t done.

  “Carry him to the box,” I said once they’d all tucked themselves back into their pants. Four men stepped forward, lifting Ghost by his arms and legs. I led the way to my bedroom, where the long box sat on its wooden pedestal. They placed him inside the unlined box and he began to thrash.

  “No, I’m not dead!” he screamed, obviously believing the long, narrow box to be a coffin.

  “Hold him down,” I ordered, picking shackles for his arms and legs up off my dresser where Keeper had neatly laid them out during my bath.

  They did as I asked while we allowed him to try to resist, not even trying to mesmerize him into compliance. This was all about him learning to obey without question, all on his own volition. I snapped the cuffs over his wrists, anchoring each to the points just behind his head. I did the same with his ankles but to the anchor points on the bottom end. Last, I lashed his waist down, to prevent him from scooting up and down even the tiniest bit. I stepped back, motioning for them to place the lid on top. He screamed. Ash, Grove, and I moved small levers on the sides, revealing small air holes so he could breathe. Then I called for Keeper, who came with a jar as requested. She handed it to me with a sad look on her face. I removed the jar lid, which had tiny holes poked in, and slid open a small aperture in the center of the box’s lid. I poured the beetles inside through it, then pushed the opening shut.

  “Please, let me out! I’ll follow the rules!”

  I pulled the chalk from my pocket and drew the sigils to cast the spell needed to stop anything other than air from passing through, not even light. Another symbol and the sou
nds of his cries muffled.

  “Okay,” I said brightly. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry and dinner smells delicious.”

  I was hard enough to hammer nails. The meal would be sweet torture to get through, but I’d rub it out after. For now, I just wanted to savor the ache, knowing his pain was so much more.

  “Please,” a muffled sob came as we left through the door. Simply delectable, I thought as I readjusted my cock.

  21

  Jase

  My ass was on fire, every breath, every scream pulling my diaphragm and shifting my body just enough that I moved the tiniest fraction. When I moved, that damned thing in my ass did too, sending fresh waves of agony, which made me sob harder and scream anew. And the bugs. I had told myself back at the cell that I could handle bugs and darkness. I had been soon proven wrong. I could still feel the phantom movements in my ears, up my nose, in my mouth. The pain got to be too much, and my voice could scream no more. I forced myself to close my eyes and tried to calm my breathing. The soft scritching of the insects against the wood and the feel of their feet tickling against my skin as they crawled set me off again. I began to scream again, this time silently as my still hoarse voice gave out.

  The darkness closed in tighter, squeezing the air from my lungs. When a hard, wriggling body fell into my open mouth, I spat. I clamped my lips together tightly. I felt one crawling along the side of my cock, more across my belly and chest. I whimpered, screwing my eyes tight. If he came to get me out, I would do whatever he said, as long as he never did this again. I wasn’t against a bit of kink, but the beating, confinement, and this thing in my ass were beyond my self-imposed limits. Not that I could tell him no. I’d endure even that if it got him off, as long as he didn’t shackle me up in the dark with bugs. Anything but that.

  I had no idea how long I’d been in the box. I knew that it had been long enough now that I’d run out of tears and my voice had given out some time ago. I knew the bugs were still crawling, and once it registered that they were concentrating on areas that itched from where the guards had come all over me, I realized they were feasting on the flakes of dried semen. That made me shake anew. These were beetles, what if they began to eat me along with the cum? I thrashed my head from side to side, trying to rid myself of the terrifying vision that brought.

  I thought I’d finally gone mad when the lid was removed from the box. Lord Willow’s smiling face looked down at me. “Oh, my, you’re going to need those bites looked after.” He looked over his shoulder. “Call the mobile groomer and see if they can fit in appointment today,” he said to someone outside of my field of vision.

  “Washer, Sergeant Crimini, and I can wrangle him into the tub. We’ve got something that’ll work on the bites. The welts, too,” came the reply.

  Oh, God, it was Keeper. I didn’t want her to see me like this.

  “Fine, fine. See to it and put him in his cage if I’m not back from downstairs by the time you’re done.”

  “Yes, Lord Willow.”

  Lord Willow bent over me, his hand reaching down to stroke a thumb over my cheek. “Punishment is over. Let’s see if you can do better today. You won’t like what happens if you don’t.”

  I nodded frantically.

  Two strong-looking fae appeared alongside Keeper. They were average in height for a human, which they were not. One had pointed ears, round cheeks, and a stocky build. He wore a peaked hat on his curly brown mop, looking rather like a garden gnome. The other looked as if he could be his brother, only wearing leather armor and no cap.

  Lord Willow undid my ankles, and the two fae moved around to opposite sides of the box, each one lifting an ankle and bending my legs up. I screamed, a harsh, weak guttural sound the only thing coming out, as pins and needles ran riot.

  “Hush, you’ll tear your throat up,” Lord Willow said. “That’s right,” he addressed the two fae. “Lift him up, I need to turn the key to make it smaller so I can remove it.”

  I prayed that the relief I felt at having that pulled out wouldn’t be marred by my discovering I had a prolapsed rectum.

  “Look at that, still gaping so wide. If it’s still like that when I’m done, we should have a little party.”

  I didn’t want to know what that meant, but I wasn’t going to object. I’d learned my damned lesson. Still, if I found a way to get my revenge later, I’d take it. It might be ten years down the road, or even twenty, but I wouldn’t hesitate.

  “Okay, I’ll see you soon. Keeper, just something light today for dinner.”

  “Yes, sir,” she answered.

  The two men moved again, one moving to my head, where he unfastened my wrists before lifting me p by my shoulders. Everything hurt, including those. My eyes hurt too much to even close so I could give them some relief against the sudden light they’d been exposed to.

  “Take him to the tub,” Keeper told them as they carried me by my shoulders and legs. “Pool already filled it with medicated water.”

  They eased me through the door and into the tub. The water stung, the antiseptic smell of whatever was in the water stinging my eyes as much as the stuff itself did my wounds.

  “Thank you, Sergeant Crimini, please tell Lieutenant Ash we appreciate him sending you to help us move him,” Keeper said.

  “My pleasure,” the man replied as he turned to leave.

  Keeper turned her attention to the other fae. “Washer, you best go contain those beetles and scrub out the box. It smells like he peed himself in there.”

  Washer grunted, giving me the side-eye. I didn’t care. So what if I had? I bet he would have, too.

  Keeper looked at me. “Can I trust you to not drown yourself while I go put some soup on for you?”

  I nodded weakly.

  “Okay. Pool will keep an eye on you anyway.”

  Hearing her name, Pool materialized between my feet, causing me to jerk in surprise. Jesus, I wish she wouldn’t do that.

  “I’ll let you know if he slips under,” Pool said.

  “Thank you,” she told Pool. “And you,” she addressed me, “Please try to stay out of trouble. Broke my heart to see that, it did.” With that, Keeper ambled off to make me soup. The steam from the hot water re-moistening my eyes enough that they no longer felt like sandpaper, so I closed them against the sting. Trusting the water sprite to keep their word and not let me drown, I relaxed and fell into sleep.

  22

  Willow

  Keeper had overseen the replacement of the furniture, and the cross and its related implements were stored away once more. Soon, the rest of my House would be in order. I’d have an obedient human assassin as my servant and lover, and someday soon, he’d be rewarded with his obedient faithfulness by becoming my consort once this Mayhem was concluded. The two floors below me would be transformed in a mere few days, the top of this building becoming a keep in its own right. The day I reached my majority, I’d not need a regent under the rules. I’d be bound only by the rules of the Realm, nothing else in my way. Nothing but the Queen and her prince consort, if they still lived.

  I walked over to the mirror on the wall, tracing out my notice of acceptance to the Guild of Masons, flashing my seal at the mirror. I watched the reflection shimmer, taking the message along with it. That done, I went downstairs to go speak to Captain Glade, to let him know the agreement had been reached while also checking up on how recruitment and weapons purchases were going.

  “Great,” he said. “I’ll let Beech know. She’s excited about the move. Recruitment numbers are coming along great, we’re up to thirty experienced warriors and have twenty-seven due to report at the end of the week for training at the arena. We’ve booked mornings from an hour after dawn for training, every morning, and two nights a week after dark.”

  It sounded good.

  “When are you presenting him to the court?” Glade asked.

  “I’m going to take him to visit Puzzle first, see how he gets on in a smaller social setting. If that goes well, I’ll
petition to present him for professional recognition the following week.”

  “She’ll ask him for a test,” he warned.

  “And I have just the target,” I replied.

  Glade grunted, giving me a look that said he hoped I knew what the hell I was doing. I did. The Queen would demand he file a target with the Assassin’s Guild, who oversaw all of the tests. The target would be secret until they confirmed he’d killed them using the skills of a trained assassin. That it would be one of the two targets I needed to be taken down to bring my plan to fruition was a bonus.

  “I need to go to the bank,” I said. “The amount the masons want to be paid needs to be authorized in person.”

  “You have a personal guard now,” he said, stopping me. “You need to be seen using them at all times.”

  He was right, of course.

  “Sergeant Larch and Corporal Hawthorne are on your daytime detail this week.”

  I looked them up and down as they came to stand before me. They were close enough in age to myself that I wouldn’t feel babysat. That they were more than skilled enough to take on any threat, I had no doubt. Neither Glade nor Ash would accept anyone subpar into the regular ranks, nevermind my personal guard.

  “Come on, then, let’s go. I have a boy upstairs I need to fuck.”

  The chuckled at that and followed along behind me, keeping out of my way. At the bubble station, I found a bonus to having armed guards. People moved out of my way, letting us go on ahead. Thanks to that, we got to the bank and back without wasting any time. Deciding I had time to see about purchasing a ready-made carriage, I went to go look for one. I didn’t want anything too flashy, but it had to be of high enough quality to show my status as one of the nobility. I found one at the third showroom, and for a handful of extra rubies and sapphires, the dwarf who owned the place agreed to sell me the floor model and paint my coat of arms upon the door.

 

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