bed, S’Rak.” Sura didn’t object to the wrap. Reassured by that, Rak complied, lying on his back with his wings half spread beneath him.
Sura’s hands stroked his belly and Rak tensed again. Her eyes met his. “Relax, High Priest,” she said, but telepathically, Rak heard something quite different. Be still, slave.
He opened his mouth to protest, but no sound emerged. Sura pulled his wrap off and stroked his sex. He tried to roll away from her, but he couldn’t move. Sura stroked him erect, climbed onto the bed and straddled him. For a few minutes, all she did was ride him, but then, she reached up with a dagger and nicked his wrist. She collected the blood in a small glass bowl.
Once the bowl was full, she held pressure on Rak’s wrist until the cut sealed. She dipped a finger into the blood and used it to draw glyphs all over Rak’s belly. He tried to see what she was writing, but the angle was wrong, and the marks blurred whenever he focused on them. He gave it up as a lost cause and concentrated on reaching for Zotien. There was a peculiar void where normally his sense of his God was found. It wasn’t the same feeling of being cut off that he’d learned to associate with a control spell. This was something different, something deeper and more sinister.
Sura finished drawing on him and held her hands above his belly as she chanted in a foul, guttural tongue. Rak knew what it was, knew he should be alarmed, but somehow, he didn’t mind it. He made no effort to fight her. She rode him and took pleasure from him, and that was okay, because he was a sex slave. The glyphs flared with yellow and scarlet light then vanished, and Rak was happy when Mistress set her hands on his belly again. Her hand passed over his kironi opening, and it gaped for her. She pushed her finger into him and smiled.
“Thank you, Mistress,” Rak moaned as a wave of pleasure spread outward from his freak-hole.
“Good slave,” she said. “Very good slave.” She wiggled the finger.
Rak spasmed in ecstasy from the praise as much as from the reward. A moment later, he felt her climax. She withdrew from him, leaving him unfulfilled, and said, “Get dressed and go, slave. You will forget everything that transpired once you have passed through my door. We met, we talked, your baby is perfectly healthy and that is all that happened.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Rak dressed, walked out of the room and shook his head, wondering what he was doing down here. He glanced over his shoulder. Sura was locking the door to her infirmary. Rak remembered then. She’d examined the baby—he was perfectly healthy. Over the course of the brief exam, Rak had also lost his distaste for Sura. The woman meant him and his baby well. He’d been foolish to mistrust her. She was a fine woman, really.
He blinked at his sudden desire to please her, and to mask his confusion, he retreated upstairs. He went into the study Jisten had given him and spread out his sketches. He had to go wash and oil Scorth. But he felt strangely drained, as if all his energy had been sucked out of him. Jisten found him an hour later, took one look at him and forced him to lie down and rest.
Liast came in and examined him a short time after that. Rak heard him telling Jisten, “There’s nothing wrong with him that rest won’t cure. He needs sleep, food and sex, and in that order. Don’t let him to anything strenuous from here on out, either. Lifting anything heavier than a cat is right out.”
Jisten sat beside him a few minutes later. “S’Liast thinks you’re working too hard. I know you’re working too hard. You’re on bed rest now, he says. Sleep, food, sex and that’s it.”
“But, Jisten, I told Scorth I would groom him today. He’s probably at the lake right now, waiting for me.”
“No, I’m not risking you or our son. I’ll go to the lake and groom him, I know how.” Jisten kissed Rak and said, “Sleep. That’s an order.”
Chapter Fourteen: Chaos
Sura’s hands stroked his belly and Rak tensed again. Her eyes met his. “Relax, High Priest,” she said, but telepathically, Rak heard something quite different. Be still, slave.
He opened his mouth to protest, but no sound emerged. Sura pulled his wrap off and stroked his sex. He tried to roll away from her, but he couldn’t move. Sura stroked him erect, climbed onto the bed and straddled him. For a few minutes, all she did was ride him, but then, she reached up with a dagger and nicked his wrist. She collected the blood in a small glass bowl.
Once the bowl was full, she held pressure on Rak’s wrist until the cut sealed. She dipped a finger into the blood and used it to draw glyphs all over Rak’s belly. He tried to see what she was writing, but the angle was wrong, and the marks blurred whenever he focused on them. He gave it up as a lost cause and concentrated on reaching for Zotien. There was a peculiar void where normally his sense of his God was found. It wasn’t the same feeling of being cut off that he’d learned to associate with a control spell. This was something different, something deeper and more sinister.
Sura finished drawing on him and held her hands above his belly as she chanted in a foul, guttural tongue. Rak knew what it was, knew he should be alarmed, but somehow, he didn’t mind it. He made no effort to fight her. She rode him and took pleasure from him, and that was okay, because he was a sex slave. The glyphs flared with yellow and scarlet light then vanished, and Rak was happy when Mistress set her hands on his belly again. Her hand passed over his kironi opening, and it gaped for her. She pushed her finger into him and smiled.
“Thank you, Mistress,” Rak moaned as a wave of pleasure spread outward from his freak-hole.
“Good slave,” she said. “Very good slave.” She wiggled the finger.
Rak spasmed in ecstasy from the praise as much as from the reward. A moment later, he felt her climax. She withdrew from him, leaving him unfulfilled, and said, “Get dressed and go, slave. You will forget everything that transpired once you have passed through my door. We met, we talked, your baby is perfectly healthy and that is all that happened.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Rak dressed, walked out of the room and shook his head, wondering what he was doing down here. He glanced over his shoulder. Sura was locking the door to her infirmary. Rak remembered then. She’d examined the baby—he was perfectly healthy. Over the course of the brief exam, Rak had also lost his distaste for Sura. The woman meant him and his baby well. He’d been foolish to mistrust her. She was a fine woman, really.
He blinked at his sudden desire to please her, and to mask his confusion, he retreated upstairs. He went into the study Jisten had given him and spread out his sketches. He had to go wash and oil Scorth. But he felt strangely drained, as if all his energy had been sucked out of him. Jisten found him an hour later, took one look at him and forced him to lie down and rest.
Liast came in and examined him a short time after that. Rak heard him telling Jisten, “There’s nothing wrong with him that rest won’t cure. He needs sleep, food and sex, and in that order. Don’t let him to anything strenuous from here on out, either. Lifting anything heavier than a cat is right out.”
Jisten sat beside him a few minutes later. “S’Liast thinks you’re working too hard. I know you’re working too hard. You’re on bed rest now, he says. Sleep, food, sex and that’s it.”
“But, Jisten, I told Scorth I would groom him today. He’s probably at the lake right now, waiting for me.”
“No, I’m not risking you or our son. I’ll go to the lake and groom him, I know how.” Jisten kissed Rak and said, “Sleep. That’s an order.”
Chapter Fourteen: Chaos
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