by A. S. Etaski
I smiled wryly. Perhaps she wasn’t entirely stupid. “Very. It’s power to her, in some form or another.”
The rate of the Noble’s mind finally reached a normal level, and her eyes brightened considerably. “She won’t let me keep it, I can see her taking it. But I wanted…her help to end it. She’s refused.”
“For now. She has time.”
At last, it hit the Noble on the head. “Wilsira will give me what she planned to do anyway, but for a price.”
I couldn’t help chuckling. “Good. Pull your head out of your twat much sooner next time, before trying to dig your guts out with dirty metal.”
Curgia swallowed and made no action, no expression, no comment; she clearly did not know how to take an insult from a Red Sister except in silence. I wasn’t finished anyway.
“Now think,” I prodded harder. “What might the Priestess do if you do not ask her for help at all? If you carry as if you want it and have every plan to birth it?”
Curgia was still from a merchant family, deep down. “She’ll make me an offer first.”
“And if you respectfully decline the first offer?”
The despair that had been framing the young female’s eyes ever since the Worship Ball seemed at last to begin to melt away. She nodded her understanding; she had more power and her unwelcome unborn had more value than she had been willing to consider.
“Easy to over-extend your reach,” I warned her. “Were I you, I would give the Priestess exactly what she wants in the end. Just get something for it. If you defy her, you’ll wind up dead or worse. This will be over in another turn at most. You’ll have the Royal Consort much longer than that, so you’ll have another chance. If you don’t kill or make yourself infertile first.”
She nodded, her brief glance at the tool telling me that she hadn’t considered wrecking her womb. Meanwhile, it had been the first thing to cross my mind watching her. I knew well how it could be done.
If it occurred to her to be suspicious of my generous advice, it might be later; she was too busy grasping on to new hope. I had held her hand already far too long; the only thing I’d held back was that the Sisterhood would be interested to see if Wilsira tried to take and hide a newborn Sathoet child somewhere. Unlike Curgia, I already knew they weren’t allowed, by order of the Valsharess.
“Do you… want something from me, Red Sister?” she asked hesitantly.
I hadn’t considered that yet. I had acted on the desire to see the game change from the direction it had been going. I wanted to add an extra loop in the Priestess’ plans just because I could. I still disliked Wilsira Tachnathon for many reasons, even never having met her face-to-face. I disliked her for being Kerse’s Mother, for owning Auslan and making him too afraid to fuck me. For being the one the Prime called upon to further torment Jael Aurenthietti. For being the type of Priestess my late sister had emulated and aspired to be.
“When it’s time to repay me, you’ll know,” I said to the Noble.
Curgia nodded, accepting the debt as an easier thing to swallow than what the Priestess had done. “Whatever you wish, Red Sister. If I can grant it, I will.”
I enjoyed hearing that.
I waited until she looked away, distracted by her thoughts and the noises of the gardens and household, before stealing backward and away from her. It wasn’t completely silent because she knew I was there; I just wouldn’t turn my back on her while she watched. I was well-practiced at this point in getting out of the area unseen and slipped out in good time.
I tread the pathways away from House Itlaun, feeling strange despite them being so familiar by now. I’d done something definite with my own time just now. I had changed something significant, counseled, made an open-ended bargain, and swapped information instead of just observing and reporting. Would D’Shea be at all pleased with me about that? Would she be annoyed at my lack of planning or outright furious with the interaction, given her own engagement right now?
She will make it clear, I expect. My Elder always has before.
I considered whether I found such a conniving Sorceress that easy to read in private without distractions, or if she just showed me what she wanted me to know.
CHAPTER 6
“Sirana! Hsst!”
I slowed, turned around on my heel. She had gotten close, damn her.
I smiled. “Gaelan.”
She frowned, and I caught her scent. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Huh.” I looked to the side. “Thought you were avoiding me.”
“Piss crystals. Go to my quarters, novice.”
My resistance and my interest in her tone arose like twin pricks. “Mmm, no. I’m busy.”
I turned to leave, and Gaelan slipped an arm right between my cloak and arm, hooked my pit and snapped me into a decent hold against her body. I grinned at first.
“I know D’Shea initiated you,” Gaelan murmured by my ear, and my smile dropped. “You’ve worn it now. The Feldeu. Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been waiting.”
“The Elder forbid it,” I said without thinking.
“Why would she do that?”
Oh, that’s a spider’s nest.
I twisted to get out of the hold; she was prepared to block my first attempt but not my second. Wrenching the other way harder and dropping, I slipped free and launched myself up and forward, ready to challenge her to a chase. I discovered Gaelan had brought an ally when my forehead connected with a knee, an abrupt thump in my ears. I fell over with a light flashing behind my eyes.
“Ow.”
“Oo, sorry, Sirana. You moved too soon.”
I blinked up in the dim hall. Reishel?
Now I knew how Gaelan had found out. Each Sister took an arm and hefted me back up. The twin eagerness in their eyes surprised me; it was playful. Reishel’s smile was warm and Gaelan’s more aggressive, watching for sudden movements from me to try again to escape.
“Come with us,” Reishel whispered, eyes flicking each way like we may be discovered at any moment. “Please.”
Worm shit.
My resistance drained out looking at her hopeful face, and I was quietly led away. We did not stop until we were inside Gaelan’s quarters, the door secured and her mage’s Ward set. By then, watching one Sister efficiently strip down, my mind had seized upon all the reasoning I needed to take this risk with both hands.
Sobriety makes a difference. I’ve been in control and have been myself the last two times. I can do it again without D’Shea. When the Sorceress had the time available to “alter” me while wearing the thing, then I would worry about who was around me at the time I lost control.
Reishel was the first nude, her body unblemished now and better fed and watered, though still weakened from what the Prime and the Sorceress had put her through. I was still dressed when she came into my arms, and I let her.
She pressed her mouth on mine with a sensual linger that recalled Callitro and Auslan, and how I’d kissed them. The similar softness genuinely shocked me, and the impulse to rip my lips away from her, to deny her was strong. I knew my older Sisters wanted me to wear the cock for them, but I was not just a pretty bua to be taken and fucked!
I won’t be seen that way!
My arms tightened around my Sister, reminded her that my body was the stronger one, healthier. I explored her, my gloved hands caressed her naked back and waist, squeezing her buttocks, and she moaned. I speared my tongue inside, tasted her mouth, and she dared not bite, although she twisted her neck to break the kiss and draw in air.
She said, “Want you on top again. This time, don’t stop until you’ve cum.”
I relaxed a little. This was what I wanted to hear. Her murmuring voice even quivered a little as she offered me a low-lidded, suggestive gaze. Her eyes a bright ruby red. Submissive. Beautiful.
I looked at the first Red Sister who had bent me over and rutted me to her own pleasure first. “And what about Gaelan?”
Watching us, the mage had been touching herself through her leathers. She met my eyes, removed her hand, and did not answer before leaving to retrieve her Feldeu from the secure compartment in her desk. She placed it atop the flat surface, then reached up to take down her hair. My eyes trailed over familiar curves just hidden by custom armor, though not for long.
“Whatever way we get there,” Gaelan said as she finished and walked away from the magic tool, stripping down closer to us, “I want my slit sore and satisfied at the end of it.”
I nodded. Gaelan was rarely plowed by other Sisters in the way she preferred. Almost all the time, her Feldeu was attached, which meant Jaunda and others reamed her asshole to their own satisfaction, maybe reaching around to stroke her cock, and maybe not. Or, as with D’Shea, they instructed Gaelan how to use her magic tool to pleasure their own slits. She was often allowed to climax with the focus being the attachment, but I knew the mage didn’t have high standing yet to demand what she really wanted.
She had been waiting for me. A Red Sister lower in seniority, wearing the cock. Despite that, I was looking forward to it, although I still had one question for Reishel when next I could wet my mouth and speak.
I looked her in the eyes. “Mended?”
She nodded. “I just drank a stronger draught. I can take it, Sirana.”
That must mean Reishel was out from under the Prime’s eye. I exhaled in relief, although I still had a distracting thought. Now Aurenthietti is in her place to take the abuse. She isn’t even a Red Sister yet.
A naked Gaelan leaned close as I still held Reishel; the mage kissed the edge of my ear in the spot I liked, nibbled on my neck. My desire flared in my chest and between my legs, and Reishel smiled to see my expression. She kissed me as well, her body language pliant and welcoming, and Gaelan’s hand slid down my front and between my thighs to stroke me through my leathers.
I wasn’t accustomed to receiving this softness. I sometimes showed it to males, but only in a way where I still felt female. The Red Sisters each held my unwavering attention now, even as I felt some trepidation how this was going to work.
They worked together to strip me, squeezing my breasts, caressing my haunches, and I let them. My nipples were hard, drawing tight and proud as all my skin was bared. Their hands were on me, their scent wafting up from their white thatches, dark purple folds eager for a Sister’s cock to penetrate. I wanted that, too. I wanted the release and was willing to wear the cock between them.
I can sample every hole before we’re done.
The two of them grinned when Gaelan’s fingers made a squishing noise between my netherlips, my flesh so engorged she needed to press in harder to make any depth.
“You’re ready,” she whispered, touching her sensitive mouth to the corner of my mine. “Go get it, I’ll teach you the command word. You asked before when you were behind me, filling my slit. When it was your idea.”
My heart pounded to hear her low, smoky voice. To hear her words. She was right, and now I didn’t need to trick her into saying it. She will teach me. I would be able to don the first Feldeu I’d known with no one’s help, control, or instruction.
Gaelan stepped back to her pallet then, getting down on all fours. She spread her knees apart for our view, arching her back, smiling back at me over her right shoulder. I stared at her dark maroon eyes, at her sexy smile; a slick, pink tongue snaked out from between dark, full lips. Then, when she waved her hips to draw my attention, I studied her plump, glistening netherlips and the purple crinkle right above it. My lungs struggled to draw in enough air as I felt a shiver pass through me.
“Go get it,” Reishel nudged me, almost a plea. “Put it on.”
“I want to see it on you,” Gaelan added. “I’ve waited for this, like when I first saw you in your reds.”
I smiled, and Gaelan reached back to run the pads of her fingers over her sex, through her white thatch, showing me some of the pink between her folds. She oozed clear, sticky desire, rubbed herself a little faster, and I breathed harder and in sync. Between shifting hips, my netherlips brushed my inner thighs, and I had to wet my drying mouth again.
I wasn’t even wearing the cock yet, but I wanted her.
When I left for Gaelan’s desk and her Feldeu lying on top, Reishel knelt beside our Sister in heat. Soon, Gaelan moaned as the Sisterhood’s newest survivor gently caressed her hanging breasts. Listening to them both, my hand shook a little as I reached for the familiar toy. It was smaller than D’Shea’s, but that was preferred. I could fuck them both hard, and I wouldn’t hurt them like the Prime did us.
Although I’d be certain to make them scream. Because they want it.
I took the wobbling tool and moved to the pallet, choosing to stand near Gaelan’s head where she could easily see me. I rubbed the bulb of the attachment against my sex, quickly slickening up the surface. There was a tingle which might have been magical, and my channel pulsed hungrily, knowing what to expect. Gaelan’s large, dark eyes looked up expectantly, desire clear on her face. She did not look away as I pressed more of the bulb inside, my body stretching so willingly around it and clutching tight, relieving my hands of their duty.
“Say ‘rah-vel-ish-tah,’” my mage Sister instructed in a flat tone. “With the accents on the second and third parts.”
I repeated how that sounded in my head a few times before speaking it myself.
“Ra’velish-ta.”
I felt a strong tingle, but not securement. Gaelan’s fingers played between her folds, and Reishel’s eyes grew wide in anticipation; her mouth was still closed.
“Second just less than the third,” the mage corrected. “Step up, then down low. Try again.”
I did. Another light sizzle, and another tweak in a tone that Gaelan couldn’t say herself or she’d just do it for me. Reishel sat back to wait, spreading her legs to caress her cunt as well, and I had to work even harder to concentrate on the preciseness of the command word. I glanced at her snatch without meaning to as I spoke, and Reishel laughed softly when I failed again.
Slut. Wait until you’re flat on your back.
“Ra’velish’tah,” I growled, eager and urgent.
That completed the connection. My knees weakened as the Feldeu seated itself and bonded with me, and I sank down on the pallet, shuddering and gasping. Awareness of my skin heightened so that the subtle heat of Gaelan’s body caressed my face, and I inhaled as I gripped my pole to anchor the fierce hunger radiating from my gut. A smooth, indulgent stroke eased the ache and offered me patience.
“Ohhh, Sirana,” Reishel cooed, enraptured by whatever she saw on my face. She crawled forward to put her face in my lap, and I felt her tongue flick out to caress me.
“D-don’t—” I gasped, my hands shaking badly as I tried to grab her hair, to pull her off of me.
I missed and next felt her mouth engulf my turgid rod. The embarrassing sounds which escaped me as she worked her mouth up and down the phallus—
Goddess!
Gaelan laughed out loud, waved her hips; I could still see her slit. Fumbling, I grasped Reishel’s shoulders, bracing myself, digging my fingers into her flesh. For a while, I was helpless, staring unseeing at the ceiling as I fucked that hot and wet mouth, and my Sister accepted the thrusts I made with my hips, pushing the tip deeper into her throat where it grew tighter. She would swallow against it, squeezing, or lurch, or gag. Nowhere else I’d plunged so far felt quite like this.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered, a roar rising in my head as I imagined cumming this way.
Reishel disobeyed me. After pushing the blunt end a little farther down her throat, she withdrew. A sharp bleat of frustration escaped me as I shuddered. I felt the need to grab her ears and put her face back in my lap, but my Sister took my arm and pulled, her voice as delighted as mine had been bitter.
“Take her!” Reishel encouraged, tugging me toward Gaelan. “She needs it. Pay her back for times she’s done you.�
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Our mage still waited on all fours, knees spread. She glanced back, nodding, wanting it. My eyes traced up smooth legs and buttocks, the pink slit a beacon in the dark. She was lean, long, muscular. I shuffled up, put my hands on her hips. Held tight. Reishel reached between us, helping me aim, because I wasn’t nearly as precise as Jaunda in my first crude thrusts.
“Oh, Braqth!” Gaelan cried as I at last lunged in, burying the magical toy in her searing, live cunt. “Oh, yes! Fuck me! Please!”
The Feldeu now in place for us both was incredible, yet the right side of my head began to ache. I ground my teeth, pulling my cock out and thrusting in again, and her ass pressed back against me in response. She enveloped me, and I ached in the two most extreme ways, good and bad. My groin felt her wet ecstasy while obsidian slivers inserted themselves at shallow angles in my mind. I moaned aloud, agony covered with joy.
~So different from Tugren. Why do I want her so? She’s tricking me, controlling me.~
I lowered my throbbing head, stayed mounted on her and humped that tight, willing hole. I kept my eyes closed and inhaled, drawing in the scent of Gaelan’s skin and her sex as she climbed toward her peak.
~Disgusting! Depraved, Abyssal caster!~
This mage had been far better to me than many Davrin I could name. No. Not disgusting. She needs it.
~Of course, she needs it. Trickster Elf in heat. All of you!~
Mistrust. Distaste. Hate.
“No,” I gasped.
Not hate. I don’t hate her.
Warm. Generous. Beautiful.
“Sirana,” Reishel whispered from somewhere close. A hand trailed down my spine, a welcoming caress. “Oh, Gaelan…”
“Gaelan,” I repeated.
I fucked the first Red Sister who had tongued my gooey netherhole during my trials, and she grunted in pure welcome every angle of penetration I sampled. Her fingernails scraped the pallet.
“Harder… Sirana. Harder! Oh, Goddess, yes, it’s been so long!”