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PRESTIRA

Yavara was in good spirits, having gotten the message this morning that both Brock and Elena were alive and well. From what little Zander had risked putting on the parchment, I gathered that he’d set plans in motion for finding a Froktora. I liked Brock, truly I did, and the Terdini were renowned for their strength and size, but they were just too small a clan. The Protaki were the largest tribe in The Pines, but even they paled in numbers compared to the hordes of The Tundra. The ten tribes of The Tundra (aptly named ‘The Ten’ since orcs are so fucking creative) would be outraged if anyone other than one of their own was named Froktora. Even then, their hatred for each other ran so deeply that simply naming one of them a candidate might spark a war. Still, that was better than outright rejection, which is what I feared Yavara would get if she presented Brock to the Ten. A war could be ended swiftly with a few key deaths, but political embarrassment lasted a lifetime. Yavara had shown some political acumen when she’d spun the rescue mission, but she still had a lot to learn. Her fierce loyalty to her friends was her greatest weakness, and would be used against her. So, I categorized her friends as ‘assets’ and ‘liabilities,’ weighing the benefits and risks each brought. Zander was certainly an asset, and I believed myself to be one as well. Brock wasn’t yet a liability, but he was bordering on it, and Elena… Elena Straltaira was a ticking time bomb. If there was any benefit to the wayward ranger, it was to keep Yavara centered. For I’d seen a shadow of what Yavara could be without her moral anchor, and it was terrifying.

I shook myself from my contemplation, and focused on the task at hand. None of this would matter if we couldn’t secure a loan from King Dreus, and to do that, Yavara would once again have to rely on her raw political acumen. As the high sun baked the stench of dead fish into the air, I coached her to the best of my ability.

“We need to be careful with our words, Yavara. He will want to be treated as above you. You cannot allow that to happen, but you cannot disrespect him, or he will be compelled to save face.” I explained to Yavara as we walked along the docks. The hood of my white robe covered my face, the symbol of the Holy Mother stitched across it. Yavara wore a similar priestess outfit, the hood covering the top half of her own face. Even savage gangs respected the work of the church, and attacking priestesses would be a violation of street law. We traveled incognito for two reasons: one, because even though we were in the docks, where there was no shortage of Alkandran loyalists, Yavara’s safety was still not guaranteed; and two, because of optics. Now that the world knew who Yavara was, her reputation had to be nurtured like an ailing infant. If everyone knew that Yavara had gone to Drake Titus to ask for aid, it would make her look weak, and though Yavara’s subjects could overlook many undesirable traits in their Dark Queen, weakness was not one of them.

“So, I should show him respect, but use subtle language that tells him I’m better than he is, without disrespecting him completely?” Yavara asked, “I’m confused; this man is the leader of the most notorious gang in the city, and I’m supposed to talk down to him in his own court?”

“Don’t talk down.” I explained, “Just use prefixes of an equal, but make sure he calls you ‘queen.'”

“I suppose it won’t be as easy as sucking his cock and promising him money.” Yavara grumbled.

I snorted. “No, this situation calls for more tact than that. Just think your questions to me if you have any, I’ll guide you through it.”

“Do you know Titus?”

“I was close with his blood-mother, Gloria Titus, for a time.” I said as we rounded the corner, “She went across the sea to Hektinar to chase heathen idols, as she was one to do. That’s the place there.” We came to a large loading door, with a smaller pedestrian door embedded into it. I knocked three times. The window opened, and two black eyes stared down at us.

“What business do you have here, sisters?” The orc asked.

“We are here to speak with Drake Titus.” I responded.

“What business do two sisters of the church have with Mister Titus?” He growled.

“His business, and not yours.” I replied. The window slammed shut in our faces.

“Nice one.” Yavara hissed at me.

“Just wait. Titus runs a smuggling operation beneath the city temple. He’ll be curious as to why we are here.”

The window opened again, and the orc spoke. “Titus will see you now.”

I smirked at Yavara.

You smug little bitch. She telepathically replied.

We stepped through the door, and our ears were immediately assaulted by loud thumping music. Flash pots blasted the dark room with a strobe light, making it seem like the dancing crowd was shifting rapidly. Cages hung from the ceiling where naked dancers of different races gyrated to the music, their sweat zonguldak escort dripping from their bodies, flinging from their tossed hair. People were fucking in the middle of the dance floor with wild abandon, their movements synchronized with the beat, their faces that of animals. The orc guided us along the perimeter, parting the crowd as he did.

This place is fucking amazing! Yavara’s shrill voice echoed in my head.

It makes our little spectacle at the bar look like child’s play. I mused.

The orc guided us to a door on the side of the room with “V.I.P.” crudely painted over it. “Open your robes and put your hands in the air.” He commanded.

Yavara and I complied, and endured his thorough and dispassionate search of us. Our hoods stayed over our faces, and thankfully the orc didn’t deign to blasphemy by making us remove them.

“You may speak with Titus, sisters.” The orc opened the door and beckoned us through before slamming it behind us. My eyes were greeted with yet another scene of depravity. Masses of pale flesh writhed together like some pulsating beast of sex, it’s many moans and screams forming a discordant drone. The room was poorly lit by torches burning red flame, giving the orgy a hellish glow. Every member of the orgy had skin as white as snow, hair as black as jet, crimson irises baring feline pupils, and blood-red lips parting to expose white fangs. If there was a benefit to vampirism, it was eternal youth and beauty, for all the women were statuesque and voluptuous, and all the men were tall, lean and strong. Their gothic features were sensually predatory, and focused on the smell of fresh blood.

“Sisters!” A man called jovially from the center of it all. I didn’t have to guess that it was Drake Titus; the extravagant chair, the adornment of jewels, and the two women worshipfully licking his cock were all the evidence I needed. Gloria would be proud of her blood baby. Taking a steeling breath, I stepped through the debauchery, watching errant limbs retreat before my path. I wasn’t an extremely adept telekinetic, but I could blow the roof off a building, and expose everyone to the high noon sun. I’d picked the time of our arrival purposefully. I stopped ten paces from Titus, wary of the hungry eyes and sharp fangs that lurked at my periphery.

“Remove your hoods, sisters.” Titus commanded, “I need to see the eyes of the people I’m dealing with.”

Yavara glanced at me, and I nodded. Together, we drew back our hoods. There were no gasps to accompany the reveal of the Dark Queen, for vampires were not prone to such human exclamations. There was only a sudden muting of the revelry, making the room quiet enough to hear a pin drop. For her part, Yavara didn’t seem the least bit out of sorts. She held her head high and proud, unflinching before Drake Titus.

“The Dark Queen herself comes to my home!” Titus exclaimed, “I wished you had warned me in advance, Your Highness; I would have made myself presentable.”

“You’re fine as you are.” Yavara said wryly, her eyes navigating the length of his cock. Titus smiled back at Yavara, though I could see he was simply looking at her neck.

“And what brings royalty into my humble chambers?” Titus asked.

“We have a proposition for you, Titus.” I said to him, not liking the gleam in his red eyes. They turned to me, but the wanting glint did not diminish.

“Prestira Rasloraca. My mother always had some choice words for you.” He cocked his head, his smile sliding to a crooked smirk, “What kind of a proposition does the infamous miser of Ardeni have in mind?”

“It’s my proposition, Titus,” Yavara said, “I ask that you join me in Alkandra.”

“Why would I do that?” Titus laughed, “I have riches beyond my imagination, I have fresh blood every night, and I have new daughters every week.” Titus slapped the asses of the two women servicing him. “Ivanka and Tiffany, say ‘hi’ to Queen Yavara Alkandi and Prestira Rasloraca.”

“Hi Yavara, hi Prestira.” They said seductively, staring unabashedly at our throats. While I was nearly consumed with the compulsion to duck my chin, Yavara dared to tilt hers slightly upward. She thought this was fun.

“Queen Yavara.” Yavara corrected, smiling back at the women.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Titus laughed as he brought his daughter’s heads back down, “They were lowborn girls once, and were never taught proper etiquette. Biting privileged sons and daughter lends unwanted complications, you understand. Now, your proposition sounds like a demand of fealty, and in case you haven’t noticed,” Titus gestured around himself, “I quite like being the boss. What would I have to gain from bowing to you?”

“Wealth, land and titles in Alkandra.” Yavara replied.

“I have wealth, I have land, and I have no use for titles.” Titus’s grin broadened, fangs shining sharply in the red light, “Do you know what I want, fethiye escort Queen Yavara?”

“What?” she asked.

“You.”

“That is out of the question!” I yelled, clenching my fist, feeling the air around me, the wooden beams of the ceiling rafters, the joints that held wall to roof. A nearly imperceptible creak sounded from above, but Titus heard it. He inclined his head upward, then looked back at me, undaunted.

“That’s my condition.” He said, shrugging his shoulders, “I will only throw my wealth and arms behind your banners if I know that my people will be well represented. Otherwise I’m risking a lot for the unknown, and I don’t put money behind bad investments. If Queen Yavara shares my blood, I will know that her interests and mine are aligned.”

“That is not a condition we can accept. I’m sorry for wasting your time.” I said, turning to leave. Yavara put a hand on my shoulder.

“What’s it like, Titus?” She asked, “Vampirism, what does it feel like? Speak honestly.”

“It’s not terrible. If you have a reliable blood supply, you hardly notice the cravings. You don’t need to sleep, you have limitless energy, and your senses are heightened. Not to mention eternal youth and beauty, though, I see you’re both doing fine in that department.” Titus said with considerable charm. If we were maidens, we might’ve blushed.

Yavara, don’t even think about it. I said into her mind.

We need him, Prestira. There’s no other way.

You would sacrifice everything if you did this. You will never get to walk in daylight again, and the pleasures of life will fade in the ever-present need to feed. Eventually, your entire being will be consumed by it. Death is preferable.

“I thank you for the offer, but it is not one I can accept.” Yavara said.

“I can make concessions.” Titus smiled congenially.

“Like?” asked Yavara.

“I’ll take Prestira instead.”

“Me?!” I nearly sputtered.

“You have the ear of the queen, and you’re one of the most powerful beings on earth. I would concede you as a viable alternative.”

You’re right, let’s get out of here. Yavara said, “I’m sorry, Titus, but you ask too much.”

“I can make one last concession!” Titus yelled as we turned.

“You seem to be in quite the generous mood today.” I smirked over my shoulder, “What is your last concession?”

“Day-walkers. I make both of you day-walkers, but it has to be both of you.”

“I am unaware of what a ‘day-walker’ is, Titus, please explain.” Yavara requested.

“A day-walker,” Titus answered, twisting his lips, “is a half-measure. You retain none of the benefits of vampirism, but as long as you stay in your natural form you also avoid the… side effects as well. The name is somewhat of a derogatory term, but I’m sure you’ll add some prestige to it.” Titus turned to his left and yelled, “Brutus, come over here!” From across the room, a homely man of middle years lumbered out from behind the bar, setting down a glass he’d been polishing. “Brutus is a day-walker,” Titus explained, “we needed someone who could go on booze-runs during the daytime.”

The balding little man stepped clumsily through the orgy, occasionally tripping over limbs that had been cruelly set in his path. He kept his eyes downcast, as well he should, for the beautiful beasts around him stared with unmasked contempt. I had a feeling that Brutus had once been given the same choice Yavara had, and he’d chosen poorly in the vampires’ eyes. He stopped before us, not daring to raise his head, his shoulders sloped in decades of defeat.

“This is a day-walker?” Yavara asked, ducking to connect eyes with Brutus. He looked away, and I felt a pang of pity for him.

“Pathetic, isn’t it?” Titus sighed.

Yavara took Brutus’s head into her hands, and gently forced his gaze to hers. “Brutus,” she said with unfettered kindness, “can you show me what it means to be a day-walker?”

Brutus glanced fearfully at his master.

Titus rolled his eyes. “Brutus, Queen Yavara is going to take over your mind now. Try not to shit yourself.”

Yavara focused on Brutus’ mind and immediately shot into it. He stumbled forward, caught himself, then straightened. By the proud angle of his back, and the lack of fear in his eyes, I knew Yavara had control.

“How do you feel?” I asked Yavara in Brutus’ body.

“Like a fat guy with a drinking problem and a lot of regrets.” Yavara frowned. She pulled Brutus’s waistband outward, and glanced at the contents of his pants. She raised her brows. “But I guess he’s got that going for him.”

“So, where does the vampire element come into play here?” I asked Titus.

“Yavara, you should feel a part of Brutus’ mind that is dormant. It should feel like a muscle you aren’t using, like if your arm were to fall asleep and you lost function of your fingers. Do you get what I’m saying?” asked Titus.

“Yeah, alanya escort I feel it. Should I just… flex it?” Yavara asked through Brutus’ voice.

“Go ahead.” Titus answered.

Brutus’ body changed dramatically. His skin turned pale, his hair turned black, he grew nearly a foot in stature, and became lean and hard where he’d been soft and fat. Yavara blinked from red eyes, the slit pupils dilating.

“Wow.” She gasped.

“Pretty cool, right?” Titus smirked.

“Yavara, how is it?” I asked her.

“I feel so… alive! The power… oh, the power! I feel like I could tear a man in half! And my sex drive is just… wow.”

“And the craving?” I asked.

“No one under my care suffers the craving, not even Brutus.” Titus said resolutely. I suspected that had more to do with Ardeni Dreus being a vampire’s all-you-can-eat buffet than any benevolence on Titus’s part, but a good leader always takes credit for good things, even if they’re not his doing.

Yavara reduced Brutus to his lesser form, then returned completely to her body. Brutus blinked stupidly for a second, his eyes vacant, his entire being void of any of the glory it had just expressed. He walked back to the bar, and resumed cleaning glasses.

“I accept these terms.” Yavara said.

“And you Prestira?”

I glanced nervously at Yavara, her orange eyes alight with excitement. ‘Let’s have some fun!’ they seemed to say. I relented a smile to her. “I accept.”

“Great!” Exclaimed Titus as he patted the seats next to him, “Come sit over here and we’ll put some fangs on you.”

Titus’ daughters moved out of the way as Yavara and I sat next to him. “Who’s going first?”

“I will, Titus. If anything goes wrong, it should be on me.” I responded, my voice shaking slightly.

“Oh, there’s a noble side to you after all, Prestira. Rest assured, nothing will go wrong. Just sit back and relax.” Titus whispered in my ear.

Titus’ strong hands gently pulled the robe off my shoulders, letting it drape from the slopes of my breasts. I felt his breath on my neck, so cold, like a winter chill caressing my throat. There was an intimacy to his touch that bordered between sexual and predatory, and I nearly wilted under it. His bite was painless. I felt a pleasurable weakness permeate from the source, like a tickle within the flesh. Then it diminished, and I felt… fear.

My heart beat faster. A whimper escaped my lips. My heart beat faster. Coldness dripped down my neck. My heart beat faster. It spread outward, like ice moving gelatinously through my veins, like I was infected with it. My heart beat faster. It dripped into my chest. My heart beat faster. It pooled into my heart. My heart beat slower. My tense muscles relaxed. My heart beat slower. I was so weak. My heart beat slower. My head was so heavy. My heart beat slower. Everything was so cold. My heart beat slower. I fell against Titus. My heartbeat stopped.

My heart beat. My heart beat faster. Faster, faster, faster. I am strong! I can feel the blood rushing through me, surging like a torrent within! Blood. Blood. I need blood! There’s a woman; she has blood! I rush over and take the woman, bending her neck to present the pulsing vein. I can see it through her skin; I can smell it! I sink my fangs into her and suck through the capillaries. She whimpers. I don’t care. Keep feeding. Keep drinking blood. So good. Blood-blood-blood. I feel the life rush through me, electrifying every muscle, every nerve and neuron. I am powerful, I am life at its very edge, burning, burning from inside! The woman collapses in my arms, and I bear down on her like a lover, like a killer. There are strong arms on me, pulling me away. I gnash and snarl at unfamiliar faces as they part me from my prey. Who are they to take what is mine? That man is talking to me. He doesn’t have any blood for me. I recognize him. Titus. His name is Drake Titus. What is he saying? “How?” “How do you feel?” He’s smiling. I look down at the woman. She is cradled in Tiffany’s arms, and she is still alive. “Prestira?” Titus says. Is that my name? Prestira? Yes, that’s my name. My name is Prestira. My name is Prestira Rasloraca, and I am a witch, and I am in love with Zander Fredeon. And I am Yavara’s friend. Yavara. The woman in Tiffany’s arms is not Yavara. Yavara is sitting next to Titus. She’s afraid of me. My memories flood back to me. I regain control. I come back from the eternal now, and live once again in the universe of past and future.

“Prestira, how do you feel?” Titus asked.

“…Alive.” I said back to him after some consideration, still dazed. I looked down at myself. My skin was only slightly paler than it had been before, and my hair was still black. That was where the similarities ended, for the body beneath me was unrecognizable. My petite breasts had swelled to pressing domes, my modest backside bulged into alluring globes, and the gap between my thighs had narrowed to nothing. Lithe muscle rolled beneath my silken flesh, shadows belying striations and cords when I moved my hand. My clothes were tatters on the floor, but I felt no shame in my nudity. Why would an apex predator of such terrible grace and beauty worry about something as benign as modesty?

“I can see that.” Titus chuckled, “It’s quite the rush, isn’t it?”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Chapter 3: Alicia, Billy, Woof and Rules for Middles

Alicia had started working out with her friends. Gym memberships shot up 47% in two weeks. It got so overcrowded the girls would sometimes wait 30 minutes or more for the treadmill or the elliptical. I made sure she didn’t overdue it, part of the team. Some of Alicia’s loveliness is a little hint of baby fat in her cheeks, her breasts and even her belly. It emphasized her youth, that she was in a sense even I could appreciate, unplucked. We didn’t want to lose that.

She said losing three pounds wasn’t going to hurt, if she could get them off her waistline and not her boobs or butt. And it worked.

Alicia is a little taller than most of the other girls around. She’s 5’7″ in a field of mostly 5’4″ and 5’5″ girls. We figured the extra height might be an advantage since the Pharaohs tended to be in the 6’2″ range. I myself am fully 6 feet tall and know from experience that tiny, tiny girls can look ridiculous next to a man of size.

Not to brag, and she’d never say it herself, but Alicia is perfectly proportioned. Excellent tits, a very healthy handful of perky B cup, perfectly shaped and perfectly symmetrical, with just the right size pink nipples. So soft and so firm at the same time. Nipples that electrify easily and often. A tiny waist even with the baby fat. An ass that drives guys up the wall. (You should have seen them in the DR.) Hair above and below that is fine and thick, and soft and golden. She trims her cunt to set off the lovely rubbery lips and moist coral interior.

You’d have to see her as I had. Naked, post-shower, slightly bent at the waist, hair hanging forward for drying. Gorgeous tits bouncing as she toweled out water. Lovely. An even better view from behind. Her slender thighs and pussy making a gorgeous heart shaped keyhole, pretty cunt lips hanging to form the scalloped top. Nearly stops my heart. Every time.

Alicia was born with this natural, unassuming and wholesome good girl sexuality. Every girl wanted her body and face. Every guy was ga-ga over her. But she was mine.

And pretty, oh so pretty. A longish slender and graceful neck contained a surprisingly accommodating throat, dazzling blue-green eyes, a tiny nose and a wide generous inviting mouth. Wonderfully plump red lips, dazzling and perfect white teeth, a lively and flexible tongue. A cute chin. A dimple. The nicest smile I’d ever seen.

She said that Danielle and Elizabeth were prettier, a claim I would respectfully dispute. Danielle was incredibly pretty but had weak cheekbones; Elizabeth’s eyes were not as vibrant. The other girls? Sam’s tits were cute but not exactly perky. Janie’s ass was a bit flat. Briana had a narrow mouth. Only Alicia was perfect.

She was right though about Elizabeth’s tits — a very bouncy, healthy and upturned C cup. If you like that sort of thing.

But what would he like? What would Pharaoh be like? What would he prefer? Answer: No way of knowing. Before that, what would the judges on White Girl Pride Day like? They could pick zero, one, two or all three girls. What if Alicia, Danielle and Elizabeth were selected? Or even Sam, who was more ladylike, in place of Danielle?

That one was easy. I, along with everyone else in town, would go stark raving mad with joy.

========================================

In the fourth week Billy stormed the Mayor’s office drunk, trying to deliver a petition for exemption of his pretty (but about to be 22 year old) wife Lisa. Security had him on the floor and cuffed before he got within 20 yards off the Mayor’s office. The judge the next day threw the book at Billy. Best case we’d see him again in 6 months. Or maybe never.

We all thought it was a shame. Billy was a good guy, a good husband and a good friend. Still, we knew how stupid it was. Drinking is more or less tolerated in moderation, but more than that is definitely frowned on for middles. Plus, the Mayor didn’t even have the power to change Pharaoh rules. That was up to the producers of the show, and ultimately to the government. The upper classes were not going to change the rules for one white girl.

You thought about it, what if they did change the rule to let 22 year old girls compete? What would happen then? I’ll tell you. A bunch of 23 year old girls and their husbands would be going nuts about how unfair that was. It would never end.

But still, we’ll all miss old Billy.

===========================================

As the weeks went by Alicia more and more wanted to experiment aggressively with new forms of lovemaking. At first erzurum escort I was like, Yeah! With a wife as pretty as Alicia what husband wouldn’t?

But then sometimes I was secretly selfish and resented the fact we did all this just for Pharaoh. And not even for him, but just some chance of him. What was the chance of getting to the program? What was the chance of winning on the program? Maybe 1 in 100, or 1 in 10,000, who knew? All this, not to make us happy but on a small chance of making him happy. It’s not I didn’t want to be confident too, but sometimes it pays to be realistic.

I tried to be a good husband even then. I had a good talk with myself about this kind of negativity. It hit me hard. I was ashamed and confessed my selfish feelings to Alicia. She was gentle and kind as we talked it out. She understood. She really did. We used it as a learning experience. She taught me a lot about unconscious racism and bias. Resenting black uppers, and especially a Pharaoh, was just racist, low class white anger. She called me out on it. I was practically crying cause I knew she was right. I had always thought I was such a good man, prided myself on it. Now I had to face the music. I apologized to her. She got some books and online lessons for me. I studied them and gave her another, more articulate, apology. We visited with Pastor Ninkovitch. He was gentle too and taught me and prayed with me. I apologized again.

Alicia forgave me. They never reported me to Security. What can I say? The Pastor is a great man; Alicia is my dream girl.

See I always knew how to deal with reality, one of my strengths. I opened my eyes after my confession and the reality was pretty darned good. Not just like fucking every single night good, but now experimenting with new fucks good. In those first three weeks we missed only four nights of lovemaking, two nights when Alicia had to go sit with Lisa, who was not doing well, and two for her period.

One night four weeks before WGPD I came from the shower ready to make love. There she was on the bed. Nude. On all fours. Her cunt pointed back towards me in the doorway. Holy…! I never.

I paused. Shocked. Flummoxed. In the seconds before she knew I was watching, my cock took flight. He was hard as a hickory stick and my balls were churning heavy cream.

She turned her head back to me. “Try it honey. Just for my training. I won’t make you, but don’t make me ask.”

“But holy jimmy cricket honey. Is this right? Is it allowed?” Even though I was getting over my racism, I still had a duty to be respectful and cautious. For both our sakes..

Her eyes went through me. I knew the look. Hadn’t she just told me not to ask?

So I climbed up behind her on the bed, studied up on how to approach this. These newfangled ways kind of throw me for a loop sometimes. I had to be careful of nosebleeds. But the dick won out. Her ass was magnificent in this position. But her knees were too close together or something. I touched her thigh and said, “Ummm…” She understood and her knees slid wider. But then her cunt was down too low for me. By instinct my hand went to the small of her back and I depressed gently. I said, “If you…” She understood and curved her back, dropped her shoulders to the sheets and buried her head in the pillow. Which popped her good place up higher. Right in line.

So then I fucked her and oh goodness but it was nice. See, the dick goes in horizontally and seems like it is sliding in deeper and deeper forever, a dick expanding and throbbing into a lovely, fragrant, clenching infinity, into places of which I had no prior knowledge. My hands rode softly on her hips. Her cunt grabbed hold of me and hot, wet, girl juices splashed from the walls, bathing me, suckling me, teasing me. Alicia pushed back on me hard and I bottomed out. I fucked and my surging balls slapped her undercarriage fast and hard. Wonderful. My body fizzed all over with pleasure, my nuts were singing; I screamed out “Alicia!” and after three strokes I came in her pussy quite a lot.

I checked and my nose was fine.

We rested, her breathing heavy but still soft and sweetly feminine. After a few minutes Alicia giggled and said, “It has a name.”

“What does?” I was somewhat out of it.

“What we just did. It has a name.”

“What?”

“Woof-woof.”

“Woof-woof?”

“Yeah, woof-woof, like a dog.”

“A dog?”

“Yeah.”

“Woof-woof? Says who?”

“Says Briana.”

“How’s she know?”

“Some book.”

I stopped and pondered. eskişehir escort Could this be right? Could Briana really know things like this? What book? Anyone would be curious about that. I’m not aware of any books suitable for middles like us, like Briana too, that would have this sort of thing. Then I remembered her husband Draymond and I was like, “Oh.” An upper.

I began to feel guilty. Even if Draymond had right to share information like this with his wife (which is not my business), there was no way it was appropriate for Bri to share it with Alicia or for Alicia to share it with me. It was so different, so weird. So inappropriate. Even if my wife was in training. Who had ever dreamt of making love this way where you don’t even see the girl’s face? Would my betters have approved?

“She says there are others too.”

“Other what?”

“Other things like the one we just did.”

“Goodness!” I tried to imagine. Found I could not. “Do they have names too?”

“Yeah.”

I paused again, reached for her hand and gave a little squeeze. Maybe it wasn’t right, maybe the uppers would kill me if they found out, but I needed to know. Badly.

Her tits seem to hold their shape even when she’s flat on her back. Which is really something. The guys in the DR couldn’t believe it either.

She needed more coaxing, so I just said, “Names like…?”

“Orange Julius.”

“Orange Ju…”

“Crab Rangoon.”

“Cr…” Trying to memorize as she went.

“The Eiffel Tower, Ferry Cross the Mersey, the Mongoose, Sweet Tea, Booya!, Aphrodite Walks Into A Bar. A few more.”

“Wow…I mean like wowowowowowo.” Made her giggle a lot, which is so nice. “She told you?”

“Yeah.”

I asked, “Do we try those too?”

“I hope so, some of them. For training.”

“When?’

Alicia looked down at my shrunken little weiner. He had just visited weiner heaven but now he was a little beat. Bet yours would have been beat too.

Alicia giggled and said, “Why don’t you rest now and let Woodrow do the work.”

“Huh?”

She was already stretched across the bed — lovely, lovely, lovely! ass, torso, breasts, face, hair, lovely! even a glimpse of the wet, matted soft hairs on her cunt, lovely!— and reached in the drawer for the dildo. She brought it out, presented it to me, and said, “Meet Woodrow. Another thing with a new name.”

Alicia lay back on the pillow, spread her legs and motioned me down. I gulped once. I got to work.

===========================

Today when I walked past the office for the Assistant Regional Sales Manager on my way to the copy machine, I saw Jason Blue in there. He was holding a tape measure. Jason motioned me in saying, “Take this end.” He pointed, then, “Yeah, down in that corner, on the floor, hold it flat.”

Jason unspooled the tape to the other corner and said, “18.5, not bad.”

He had me go to the next corner and we measured the second dimension. “14 and three quarters and a bit more. Good.”

He wound the tape back in and said, “Thanks for the help Jeff.” He seemed to forget I was there and walked around the empty room, motioning and framing with his fingers and hands, trying to visualize. Then he noticed me again and ordered me out with his eyes and a little shake of the head.

After that I tried not to bother myself about it any more.

=========================

We are a pretty conservative society, and we like it that way. The way our parents were, the way their parents were before them. All the way back to The New Founding in 2147. Makes things simple, fair, easy to follow for everyone. Everyone knows his place, knows what the rules are for staying out of trouble.

I mean our rules, the middle, because there have to be to be different rules for different levels. Common sense tells you that. For us in the middle, maybe not the uppers and the upper uppers, and maybe not the low down dirty classes, for us it is pretty clear what is right and what is not right. We like to stick to that.

In terms of sex the rules have always been very clear. There is (of course) no premarital intercourse or, as we called it, fucking. In fact there is no premarital anything beyond some friendly light kissing and maybe a little touch near but not on a girl’s breast. We value our women and value their purity. Our own as well. It makes it better for everyone.

Better like it had been for Alicia and me on our first night together. It was our honeymoon in that little cottage in the Poconos. She was a just turned 19 gaziantep escort virgin, I was a 24 year old who had made one horrible mistake in college with a girl I never should have gone near. It was a fantastic honeymoon. Way better than if we’d done something stupid before the wedding.

I had already confessed the slut to Alicia and to her parents. Amazingly, she forgave me then too, told me she could love me even with a stain on my soul. She is my dream girl. Of course, like any suitor, I was scared poopless of her Dad’s reaction. Alicia, sweetie that she is, had already gone to bat for me, pleading with him to go easy on me, but I was still scared poopless.

He quizzed me closely that day, just two guys sitting across from one another in the den. The girls were in the kitchen stringing popcorn.

It started off well enough. We discussed the history of our town librarians, which ones were nice or not nice, and how a few had actually been pretty good looking. One or two of them were even bright.

“What’d she look like?” he asked.

“Which one Dad?”

“The slut.”

“Oh, her. Ummm…I can’t say. I barely remember it. I made a mistake, you know, it was Pharaoh-Wednesday, after I mean, and we both got a little overexcited I guess.”

“No excuses son, no blaming Pharaoh for your own weakness.”

“No Dad, you’re right. I know you are.”

“But you remember fucking?”

“Yes sir. I mean yes, Dad.”

Dad was a stickler for the old ways and insisted on my calling him either Dad or Sir. Was fine but felt a little awkward, the Dad part I mean.

“What about her tits? What were they like?”

“I…I don’t… well pretty big ones I think.”

“hmmmm, figures,” he said with a disapproving grimace.

“Yes sir. I mean yes, Dad,” cause he was right. I had been attracted to her tits.

“Bigger than Mom’s?”

“Sir?”

“Mom. Get with it. Bigger than Mrs. P’s?”

This was a tricky one. In the end I stuttered out a “aah…I don’t think so Dad.”

I’d said the right thing. He smiled for the first time.

“And now you’re going to be fucking my little girl?”

“Only with your permission, Dad. And Mrs. P’s too, sir.”

Alicia was almost 19 when we got engaged. She wouldn’t strictly need parental permission to marry, but no way was I going there.

“Hmmm. My permission you mean.”

“Yes Dad.”

So it was settled. In the end he didn’t report me to Security. He just made sure I took a bunch of shots and visited with Pastor Ninkovitch on it. Alicia had fixed it for me. She is my dream girl.

================================

The upper classes allow themselves somewhat more license than we get. Especially when the girl is of a lower class, or if she’s drunk or leads the man on in some way. Or let’s say there’s a festival or holiday or cultural event, then of course they want to blow off a little steam with a girl. It makes sense what with all the pressures they face in terms of keeping society and the economy going and keeping us all fed and happy and employed and under control. My class still respectfully and quietly disapproves, but we also understand and accept it.

There is a little thing called Patriotism after all. Patriotism and Respect for our Betters, and for Doing as we are Told. We understand our Obligations.

See, rich people are smart and dumb people are poor. Which means that smart people get rich and poor people stay dumb and lazy. Hell, if I’d worked harder (much harder) or I’d been smarter (much, much smarter) then I have no doubt I would be one of the uppers myself. There are white uppers, even a few white upper uppers. So our betters getting a break on holidays is pretty much OK with us.

Take Sir Reginald. Reginald Quigley had been an undistinguished middle till he created the Black Pharaoh program. What happens? Only gets elevated to upper, gets knighted, gets rich, becomes one of the most famous people in the world. That’s what. Smart man. A man to be respected, even if he is white.

Sir Reggie, as he was affectionately known, was reputed to have fucked over 300 of the girls vying for Pharaoh’s bed. Not the winners of course, they were Pharaoh’s property, but the most beautiful rejects. Not one of the girls ever spoke of it, they were that loyal to him. But his constant companion, Freddie Wiggle-Bottom, vouched for it and would regularly update the number to members of the press over gin and tonics poolside at Sir Reggie’s mansion.

That, my friends, is what accomplishment looks like. And he never rested on his laurels, went on to invent the toothpick and the upside down bra. How’s that for hard work and smarts?

Do the uppers deserve some breaks with our girls? I think so. I really do. Not that it matters what I think. It’s reality.

Like it will be reality on White Girl Pride Day and like it is every Wednesday night for the Pharaoh. Something for the entire nation to rally around.

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Hello everyone. Just like the last interlude, this will be a collection of shorter stories telling what happened after the events of chapter 2 and introducing new characters. There will be no erotic content here whatsoever, so be warned. See you in Chapter 3 – Agrulla.

1. The assassin

Ulrise crouched behind a huge chunk of basalt, surveying her surroundings for hungry charus or a stealthy falmer hunter. Some time passed since she left the chitinous houses behind, along with their blind inhabitants, but one can never be too cautious. Hiding from falmers proved to be far harder than she expected, but the Pale Wraith got her nickname for a reason. Like an apparition, she slipped through their caves and was now entering a massive underground cavern, one of the many that formed the legendary underbelly of Skyrim – the Blackreach.

After she and Lana saw the unenviable fate of the Mistress, gathering her notes and other clues to their curse became the number one priority for the assassin. Without the looming threat of the angry employer punishing her for going rogue, Ulrise devised a plan.

The nine sealed potions she was carrying around finally were applied to good use. If they do not help locate the possessions of the Mistress, what was their purpose anyway? Maybe her curse amplified the effect of the potion, or perhaps she just became so good at detecting this magic, but on the edges of her mind, another source of it beckoned, leading her to a mountain ridge in the south of Skyrim.

Now finally looking at the gloomy, barely lit landscape she retrieved one of the remaining vials and gulped it down. Her biggest fear after traversing the dangerous tunnels was that falmers found the prize and now she had to turn back and assault their hive.

Fortunately, this proved not to be the case. The magic magnet beckoned, luring her deeper into the luminescent fungi forest. Out of her element here, Ulrise moved slowly and carefully, constantly checking her surroundings. She managed to spot a massive charus laying in ambush and gave it a wide berth. A lone falmer hunter followed her for some time, but Ulrise managed to lay an ambush of her own and soon the blind native got an extra hole in his throat.

Slowly crawling forward she passed the first cavern to find another enormous underground space, filled with plants and animals that never saw a ray of daylight. Not trusting the treacherous local illumination, she kept the night vision effect active at all times, spotting local predators hiding in deep shadows.

After hours of sneaking and two caves behind, the blond’s tenacity was finally rewarded.

“Wait a second, I recognize this area!” Indeed, this was the clearing that two cursed women have dream-walked not so long ago. In the real world, the clearing was every bit as memorable as in the dream, tekirdağ escort covered with a thick fluorescent fungal growth.

“Well, I remember the direction, better check if this is the place.” To her immense relief, soon the remains of the road became apparent, and in no time she stood in front of the hole in the ground, looking at descending marble stairway.

“I better be quick and very cautious, who knows what powers Sotha Sil’s guard can wield. I am not too fond of joining the Mistress on her tour in Oblivion.”

Down the stairway, the light of artificial Sun greeted her once more. She was delighted to see that local animals did not pilfer or trample Mistress’s backpack.

“Maybe bright light scared them? Does not matter, I better get her stuff and be on my way.”

Holding magic wards and shields ready, she approached the bag. She meticulously and very gently put the scrolls lying on the ground back into the backpack, took it, and stepped away from the circle of carved marble columns with a stone chest in the center.

“A wise choice.”

She almost jumped at these words and turned around to see the ghost of Sotha Sil standing between the columns. He continued in a flat tone:

“There are no daedric marks on you, so you can go free. This secret is not for mortal minds. If you value your realm as you know it, let the buried knowledge be forgotten.”

“That’s very generous of you, I’ll be sure to keep it to myself.” Ulrise moved backward, not letting her eyes off the ghost just in case. Reaching the stairway, she turned around and rushed above, leaving the eternal warden to his silent duty.

“Okay, I better study the scrolls with good lighting back on the surface. What else do we have here?”

One of the first things catching her attention was five characteristic vials of white liquid. “Ahh, so this is what I sensed. Thanks Gods the Mistress fancied having a fresh helping of magicka with her. Without this magic anchor, I would have trouble locating this cave.”

She threw away some stale food and stared in contemplation at the ornate key with the caption “Hjerim” on its handle.

“I think I know where this place is. Lana is going to love a trip to Windhelm.”

2. The ruler

The crowd that met the royal couple in Windhelm was far from what Elisif imagined. At home in Solitude the people will be cheering loudly and throwing flowers as their Jarl rode the streets.

Instead, they were greeted with stoic silence and raised banners. At first, Elisif tried to put on the fake smile, but soon dropped the pretense. Her purpose here was not to charm, but to serve as proof of Ulfric’s victory.

Generation of rivalry between Eastern and Western jarldoms finished with a resounding victory of the East, and now tokat escort the ruler of Solitude was paraded in the Eastern capital.

Tired of long faces, her eyes rested on the broad muscular back of her husband riding in front of her, but she furiously averted her gaze. He denied her the right to ride alongside him, instead leading the procession like a triumphant! Was there even a limit to this man’s arrogance?

For years she managed to maneuver politically and stay in her home city, restoring the damage done by Stormcloaks. At last, Solitude was mostly rebuilt, but this only brought an end to her relative freedom.

The formal reason for her arrival to the new capital of Skyrim was that the queen should be sitting alongside her king, and not only sitting. Ulfric has been paying her visits every year, and he became increasingly irritated by the lack of an heir, despite all his efforts.

The stony expression of an experienced politician like Elisif did not betray any emotions, but she remembered these nights with dread. Their martial bed was not that arm and cozy, figuratively speaking, and Ulfric put little effort to change that. He treated sex like a battle where only one can win, never letting her forget who is the dominant force, both in bed and in politics. His prize would be a child to cement his legacy and unite West and East Skyrim in one dynasty, and he was damn intent on getting it. Now, having her in the same palace day and night, Elisif feared his advances will become even more persistent.

Not all was doom and gloom though. Right next to her rode the only person she trusted – her loyal handmaid Alda. The stoic-looking woman rode nearby, shrugging off the stares of the crowd. Maybe some people were curious why the royal couple were not riding together, but instead, a plainly dressed black-haired woman was by the queen’s right side while the king was leading the parade. Elisif did not care for their questions or potential gossip. Come to think of it, if rumors start to go around, this might not be the worst thing. It will hurt Ulfric in his most vulnerable spot – his pride.

Yet again her gaze returned to the king, and now she stared at him as if trying to burn the man with her eyes. “I must send Alda to find an alchemist who does not ask questions to make some more pregnancy-preventing potions. Local brothels should know the suppliers.

“I will be cursed before I carry a child from the man who destroyed my city and killed the rightful king.”

3. The warrior

The Whiterun city guards stepped aside respectfully, letting the hulking orsimer frame in the gates. Her association with Companions allowed Agrulla to enter the city without the search and interrogation. This stuff was annoying, a callback to the stronghold she trabzon escort was born in with their strict rules and procedures of who may enter or leave. A smirk appeared on her lips at the thought that if she followed these rules, she would never even discover the contrast between an orc stronghold and Whiterun.

In high spirits, Agrulla walked the streets with her elven comrade in tow. During several days of their travel from the wilderness of Western Skyrim to Whiterun, she learned a lot of facts about local flora and fauna, all against her will. But the only way to shut up Aeranel was to punch him and that would be low.

But with their journey coming to an end, she already anticipated a welcoming feast in Jorrvaskr hall. Having a company other than an annoying elf would be nice too. Without losing time to saunter in the city streets, the pair went straight up to the Companion’s house. She salivated at the thought of sweet mead and roast meat that undoubtedly awaited them.

“Ahh, the fresh blood!” the wide welcoming grin of Vilkas was bright as the brickwall of a nord welcomed them with opened arms.

“Aela and the others have returned some days ago, you are the last hunting party. Good to know we have not lost anyone to this damn monster cave. Have your hunt has been fruitful?”

The orc woman returned his wide smile as they locked hands in a firm handshake. “We have found several leftovers, and made sure they will not assault anyone.” By human standards, Vilkas was a hulk, but Agrulla still had an inch of height on him and her muscles were equally impressive. Their embrace might have made weaker ribs crack.

“And recovered some gear!” Aeranel showed the arrowheads found among bones.

“Great job all around!” nodded the experienced Companion in approval. “Have you already been to the Kynareth temple? Some of the returned warriors had some strange magic in them. Priestess Danica told it is connected to this dust from monsters.”

“Hmm,” the orc woman massaged her chin. During the assault, some of her brothers and sisters-in-arms touched the strange pink dust that bled from the cursed monsters, but she was lucky enough to avoid it.

The choice between celebrating their victory in a drunken feast and sitting in the temple while priests fumigate her with grass while howling incantations was clear for Agrulla.

“None of the werewolves or trolls bled on me. I might check on them later, just in case. Now, to the important matter – do you have a roasted boar or a bull today?”

Vilkas nodded, gesturing them to enter the drinking hall with a smile:

“Why do not you see for yourselves? Our cooks outdone themselves today!”

The rest of the day passed as a carnival of drunken revelry for Agrulla. Going to sleep, she remembered arm-wrestling contest with Vilkas. Or was it Farkas? Another distinct memory was the whole crew singing old Nord battle songs and Aela hitting targets with throwing knives even after a jug of wine.

As the content orsimer woman drifted to dreamland, her pussy twitched slightly. Even while sleeping, several pink particles that got directly into her bloodstream from the arrow scratch did their cursed job.

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Planetfall

Chapter 2

Marriage

Year 20 R (Republic Era), two weeks ago

Following her prophetic revelation, Lil spun around on her toes and stepped through the yawning deck hatch to the main deck above, leaving me alone in my reverie.

Lil’s mother, Gillian, formerly my step-mother, and previously my once-beloved Aunt Gill, the sister of my deceased mother, was a posthumous hero of the Glorious Revolution. You can read about her in the history readers, how ‘the Noble Duchess of Merciant, the former Archduchess of Burbary, was killed while trying to defend her Republican principles by the cowardly blade of the Imperialist oppressor, her very own step-son, the so-called Honorable Ivan of the Merciant dynasty of Como Prime’ 20 years ago.

Shit, I’ve seen the article for the first time very recently, a semi-gloss pressing was neatly cellulosed to my assigned sleep pod by the time I was ready to retire the very first night aboard this craft.

Lil wasn’t there, way back then on that fateful day on my home world; a time that we had known would come sooner rather than later. She was just 18 and away at college. I lost my father and what was left of my distant family and friends that day, as well as my freedom, when the whole planet capitulated within hours of the invasion. We had never stood a chance. We were all victims, Gillian, my father, myself and Lilian, too. But the two of us have survived to this point and both of us were necessary for this present mission, even if the likelihood was that only one of us actually had a future, but we had much in the way of trials to survive before anyone could give consideration to any individual’s future.

When I first saw Lil she was only 5 years old and I was 16; we were not particularly fond of each other at first. We looked very different, my mother and father were both white, as was her mother, my mother’s sister, but Lilian’s father was black. It may seem strange cousins rarely meeting, but the universe that was the Galactic Empire was much more complicated then. Noble families had been jockeying for betterment for hundreds of years, forming alliances, fuelling feuds between them, fielding petty dalliances and plotting intrigues from which only the true Machiavellians among that class derived any pleasure. The nobility were an ancient institution, set in their ways and many were too snobbish to even know what was going on outside their enclosed protectives. The galaxy was changing and the appetite for wholesale change was growing apace, but most nobles were too complacent to realise their time belonged in the past.

Of course, the rebels would have you believe that it was the ‘Poor’ who were the supposed driving force behind the revolution, that this 70-terranyear-long on-off campaign was for the benefit of the ordinary people of the vast population of mankind spread thin across the Milky Way. What rot! The poor people before the revolution are the same just as poor people under the new regime; the only change is that some of the middle rich are now ridiculously wealthy and the formerly wealthy are either dead or now, like me, forced to survive as part of the criminal underclass.

I did not learn much about politics at the Como Prime High School, although I was a home student at the time and had too many of the things that young men are occupied with at that age. It was my father the Duke who had an eye on the future and keeping the family’s future interests alive.

So, I was married on my 18th birthday just before leaving for the Imperial Naval Academy with Pynom, my zulon navigator, who I had been bonding with since I was about 3 terranyears old. I left behind my arranged bride, Velda, who was 15 and who I had only just met.

Arranged marriages were quite normal among our society then, for increasing wealth and bolstering trade or influence or both. We were connected with the Emperor’s family at great-grandfather level and Velda’s family were connected to the Crown Prince’s bride-to-be as second cousins, which strengthened our links with the Crown Prince, hopefully to become in time the next Emperor. I think my father was 33rd in line for enthronement then, now I believe I am fourth; Lil, descended from an archduke, is in primary position for Empress in her own right, should the monarchy ever be restored.

***

Imperial date 7932 E (Year Minus 9 R), 29 years ago

On our marriage, the ceremony held on my bride Velda’s home world, F’gargo Prime, one of seven inhabited and agriculturally productive but culturally and economically rather backward planets, in front of both our close families. My new bride was only 15, which was fine for her family and the law’s of their planet, but far too young for the laws on my own world. Once we were sealed together in the marriage bedchamber, and the titters of her silly bridal attendants faded away down the corridor, we faced each other, having barely exchanged a word together in the 48 terranhours we had been acquainted.

‘How bursa escort old are you, Velda?’ I had asked gently.

Her eyes were downcast, she looked so young and vulnerable.

‘I am fifteen terrans, my Lord. My period set in half a terran ago, so I am ripe enough to mate, if that is of concern to you, my husband.’

She looked up and I saw her bright blue eyes for the first time. I could sense both a little defiance and some pride at being ready to mate. No doubt she was prepared to busy herself raising our heirs who would strengthen the bonds between our families, mine the major house, hers the minor with most to gain from the new alliance. But there was also fear in her eyes, as she chewed her lower lip and fiddled with her hands, not prepared to exceed her authority by daring touching me first.

I smiled at her innocence. She looked such a sweet girl, so tiny that, despite her boasts of sexual maturity, she was still a child.

‘Velda, you are a lovely girl, but by the laws on my world, which is our world now, you are still a child.’

`But-‘

‘Velda, you are my bride and I am your husband, and you have promised in our wedding vows, the ones that you declare on your birth planet, to obey me as your husband, is that correct?’

‘Yes, husband, I will obey you. I am your wife, even though in your eyes I am still a child, yes?’

`Yes, you are still a child but you are my lawful wedded wife.’

I separated both her clenched-together hands and held them gently in mine, before bringing them to my lips and kissed them in turn. Her eyes grew large and even more fearsome of what she felt was to befall her, rejection or consummation, both held the same promises of pain and hurt.

‘Once again, are you still a virgin, my sweet wife?’

`Of course, I come to you as pure as winter snow, er, do you have snow there on your home world?’

‘Not where our palace stands, not on that latitude. In our hemisphere it is presently our winter and now is as cold as it ever gets there, but rarely cold enough for frost or snow. But we do have mountains, glorious mountains and our polar regions are winter wonderlands for all our people to vacation in and enjoy. But enough of our climate, sweet Velda. I too, am a virgin.’

She gasped, ‘But on our world … you are three terrans older than I?’

‘On your world, Velda, you mate soon after puberty, I have read up on your world.’

She nodded. ‘That is true, husband. Only on our world only the males read, we girls are not allowed to be as advanced either in manners or technology as the boys and men of our world, and even they must be well behind what you learn on your more advanced world. I wonder why I was chosen as one of your consorts when there are far richer worlds with plenty of noble and more beautiful maidens to spare?’

I smiled at her question. Velda was a young and uneducated girl, a second class citizen on her agricultural world, even though she was one of the many daughters of the low-ranking Lord of her world. Although her potential rise should her relative marry the Crown Prince, there was every chance that upon becoming Emperor, he would seek many alliances to protect his position through marriages with other nobles. In that case, Velda’s potential influence would reduce or cease.

‘Your system, and the systems around you that your father claims as his own, is close to the centre of the Galaxy. It is an area of interest to my family, and your mother is more closely related to the Emperor through the proposed marriage of his son, than my father, which dynastically is a possible advancement.’

‘Well, I hope that you are pleased with your latest wife, that I may bring you the pleasure you seek as well as improve the bloodline of your offspring. I … I am ready, my Lord, my husband for the rituals of my wedding night.’

‘We are not in any hurry to breed, Velda, so you can relax. As I said before, I am not yet blooded in the ways of the marital bed, and I am more ruled by the customs of my world, the world where we are intending to make our home and in this I am in complete agreement. We have not had concubines on my world, Velda, for several generations. On my home world and it’s dependencies, all men and women, Lords, Ladies and Common folk are deemed equal and we are paired one male to one female only. My father rules by dint of birthright, but also by a vote every five terranyears of every man and woman citizen in our world and those who have spread out around the galaxy; it is they that decide if our noble house continues to rule or not.’

‘Your people, men and women, vote for what exactly?’

“For maintaining the rule of the Lord and his privy chamber of citizen advisers drawn from all walks of life, who themselves have to stand every five years to continue in office. It helps to keep a Lord in check. Alternative forms of government are revised or new constitutions çanakkale escort drawn up every five years from suggestions put by citizens and our independent Judiciary examine and hone these into viable options that citizens can consider at the next election. We have done this for a terranmillenium and we remain a benign, happy and stable autocracy, with respect for all our citizens on our side and we strive to continue to earn the respect by our people on the other. Our planet and system has prosperity, security and peace for all, as sedition and malcontent do not have fertile ground to thrive.’

‘So all women have this right to vote, too? Will I?’

‘Of course, you will, Velda, but not until you are legally a woman on our world, which is eighteen terranyears.’

‘So, this extension of freedom to decide, does this extend to marriage and the possible breaking of a marriage?’

She looked up at me, square-shouldered and brave as she asked this question, but her hands involuntarily lifted away from my light grip, as if expecting a blow from me for her temerity.

‘Yes, Velda, that is your right, even now before you are of age. At any time that you want to leave me and our marriage, you can, simply by registering a claim for legal separation leading to divorce with the Judiciary. You will not be asked for a reason, only confirmation that you wish a separation. This triggers an offer to provide free counselling to the couple, both individually and jointly, to see if the marriage could be salvaged by one or both marriage partners altering whatever behaviour that most offends the other. If that reaches an unsatisfactorily sufficient agreement to try to work through the problems together, then notice of the divorce is published, pending agreement of the ex-couple over any transitional payments, the visitation rights to children, and division of property, etc.’

‘So I could be free at any time?’

‘Not quite, Velda. On my world, our marriage vows legally mean nothing, until we are at least eighteen, so our respective parents would still be our legal guardians; in the absence of your parents, my parents would be honour bound to stand in as your guardians charged with protecting you from any unlawful approach I might make. Until then, despite our marriage vows earlier, we can only be betrothed to be married. So in effect, we are engaged to be married, and can go through a short private civic ceremony on or after your eighteenth birthday, if you wish, or you could sue me at the age of eighteen for an annulment.’

‘An annulment? What is that?’

‘It is the ending of a marriage that never was a marriage, one that was never consummated.’

‘Like ours thus far?’

‘Like ours thus far. You have the right, as a free citizen of my world, to freedom from suffering the consequences of a marriage contract made while you were a minor. Your husband does not own you, in fact no-one can never own you on my world; those words of you “obeying me” that we agreed to in our wedding ceremony an hour ago are only your world’s wedding vows, they carry little or no weight on my world. You do not have to obey me, but I should expect you to support me, advise me, and, if our relationship is to survive a long lifetime, to learn to love me, as I will learn to love you. As we are a couple, it is important that we learn to live with each other, learn our ways and, in time learn to love each other and share that love with our babies, so they may be brought up in a family of mutual respect and love.’

‘I want babies, happy babies, my husband, and I am prepared to wait for them. And I want to love you and be loved by you, so I think I will spend every day doing that.’

‘I think that we must also make time for your schooling, Velda, otherwise everyone you meet in our circles will have that advantage over you. We are proud of our smart women, and I sense that you are bright and have already demonstrated an independence of spirit and that you are willing to question and learn. I want you to play a full role in the governance of our world and its possessions and outposts. We have access to the greatest exponents of teaching on my world, where every boy and girl learns to read, write, learn art and music and technology. I had toyed with taking you with me to the naval academy, but I think that you would be much better off back in school. I believe that you are smart and intelligent and will soon make up for lost time and missed opportunities.’

‘Naval academy? You are leaving and not taking me with you?’ She gasped and her tensions returned, she looked close to tears and even more like the little girl that she really was.

‘Not for almost a quarter terranyear, my wife. I will get to know you, as will my mother and sister, and you may bring as many members of your household or additional friends with you to converse with while I am gone.’

‘My family permits me to take just one, Sylvan, rize escort my personal maid.’

‘And are you close friends with this Sylvan?’

‘No, she is my father’s spy. I hate her.’

‘Then make a list of any friends you wish to bring with you and I will arrange passage and necessary offworld permits and, when we get to our world, we will keep Sylvan busy away from your personal staff and you will forever be out of the reach of your father, if you so wish.’

Velda was actually more than happy to delay our sexual relations, once we were sealed in the marriage bedchamber and free to discuss privately between us. She readily agreed that we would wait to consummate our marriage until I graduated from the Academy and she had reached this threshold of Como Prime’s legal age, and caught up with the education she would need to live in a modern and more equal society.

The following day we set off for our new home. I flew our craft, with Velda sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, with Pynom setting up a temporary mind link with her that went smoothly while Velda took charge of piloting the craft for at least half the journey, going in and out of several small wormholes. Her delight in trying something so new, so forbidden on her own world, where females were only considered for breeding new farming and labouring stock, was a joy to behold.

‘I would like to learn to fly on my own like you, Ivan, my Lord, so that I might be independent for the first time in my life. Would this be permitted for a wife of a Lord or an Honourable on your, on our world?’

‘It is permitted for any woman on our world to learn anything they which, especially if they show an aptitude for whatever that is. The younger you are when you start flying the better it is to learn to build a lifelong relationship with your zulon. However, you will be the first female in our family to express a wish to be a pilot, except for my cousin Lilian, who we hardly ever see.’

‘You have a female cousin?’ she asked, ‘I met your sister Sholana at the wedding.’

‘My cousin Lilian is a girl of only 8 terranyears and lives far away at a pre-Cadet school, learning how to meld with her zulon and become a pilot. I also went to a pre-Cadet school, one closer to our arm of the galaxy, so I came home more frequently. I doubt you will see Lil until the the spring on our world when the academic year ends, and soon after that I will depart for my three terranyears at Space Cadet School.’

‘I am not looking forward to that, my Ivan. Can I be permitted to come with you to learn to fly?’

‘No, my sweet, as is my duty, I have to serve five years in the Imperial Navy. As the wife of the heir to a Lord, you are not even permitted to join the Imperial Navy. In fact, Pynom tells me that, because of your marriage to me, it is best that no-one even knows you will be assigned the zulon, that Pynom will select for you. She is even now talking to her superiors to ask if your zulon can remain secret from other zulons too, at least until you qualify as a pilot. Whoever she selects for you will bond with you for life; it will be a close bond like I have with Pynom, she has been a part of my brain since I was three. Separation would be physically as painful as losing an arm or a leg, but the emotional cost will be like losing all your children in one go.’

‘It is a commitment and, as a wife of the ducal heir to a system, I am prepared to dedicate my life to any commitment that is appropriate to my new station in life.’

‘Remember you are not just a wife of an heir, but THE ONLY wife of an heir.’

‘And that is why I am so happy,’ she laughed.

I enjoyed her joy and did my utmost over the next few weeks to be comfortable settling her into my world that was so strange to her. She shared my bed as an affectionate companion, not yet a physical lover, but our friendship grew as a result of being so close whenever we had the chance.

I found myself just a few weeks later, however, light years from the home world I had known all my life, on a new adventure studying to be an officer pilot and making inroads into my five years’ short commission in the Imperial Galactic Navy as an officer cadet.

***

Imperial date 7933 E, 28 years ago.

All my new fellow cadets soon found themselves satisfying sexual diversions close to the Academy. Apparently a whole sex industry thrived in such an environment, filled with influential and energetic young men and very few women, many of whom were ultra wealthy rather than simply rich, and already seeking to start building their harems or strings of concubines.

I was the last of my class to hold out, finally succumbing on the last night of the first year, having discovered that, due to rebel activity in the area, all students were locked down and unable to go home for the holidays.

The F1 hybrids, the clone army, that the rebels must have been growing in secret for a quarter of a century, were launched and they changed the face of space war. Prior to this point there were never any projectile weapons used in space; the risk to the hulls was too great. The convention for thousands of years was to board through airlocks, like leaf or flower buds near the stalk of space vessels, and win control of the ship by hand-to-hand fighting with battleblades and daggers.

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The Wedding

The next week was pure chaos. Gone were the banquets and meetings of dignitaries, instead, there were wedding preparations, rehearsals, and learning the customs of the ceremony of Oliver’s world. The only comfort I could find was Oliver was working as hard as I was. Helena was having us do a hybrid wedding with the traditions from Earth blending with the traditions of their world. My nights were no better as my shock and excitement had been replace with fear and doubt. Lara slept next to my bed as I couldn’t sleep without at least two or more nightmares causing me to scream in my sleep. After the second time of her running into my room ready to kill, she slept next to me as to help wake me, and calm me down.

My nightmares were worse than ever. I saw Oliver leaving me at the alter for another woman, never coming, not being there, leaving me, sending me back to Earth alone, without Lara by my side. A few I witness him killed before our wedding and thus I was sent back to Earth heartbroken and alone. Exhaustion was getting the better of me, but I refused to let anyone know, as I was sure my nightmares were triggered by the stress of the wedding. However, Lara did go behind my back and had Iman give me something to help me sleep the night before the wedding that blocked the nightmares. I won’t lie, it might the one time I wasn’t angry with her for not listening to me.

The day of the wedding was even more stressful and chaotic than I could have ever imagined. It started with a fight with Ibarra and Lilja about my dress and Lara’s dress, which I won. Then it was a fight with the bathing. Why they want me to shave my sex I’ll never understand as I insisted on keeping my pubic hair. ‘I must remember to ask Oliver about this, or perhaps Helena one day.’ Once I was dressed, I let them apply my make-up, then I had them apply Lara’s make-up. Soon, we are dressed, painted, and as Ibarra was putting my veil and comb into my hair. Queen Helena walked in wearing a beautiful silver gown. I felt she had worn it to match my dress

“Oh Alexis, you look so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I said smiling.

“And Lara,” said Helena, “your father would be so proud of you. I wish he were here to see you.”

“As do I my Queen,” said Lara.

“Ladies, may I have a few minutes alone with Alexis,” Helena asked.

“Of course My Queen,” said Lara escorting Ibarra and Lilja out of the room and closing the door.

Helena touched my veil and said, “Such a düzce escort strange tradition to cover your face as if they are trying to hide you.”

“Kind of is,” I said. “Part of it has to do with forcing the man to commit to his bride in the case of an arranged marriage, and part was because when a man wanted a bride, he’d kidnap her from a neighboring tribe and cover her head with a blanket so she couldn’t see where she was being taken. It’s also a symbol of modesty and purity. Oliver said to wear what would make me happy, and I chose this because it reminded me of the pictures of my mother when she married my father.”

“Then that’s what really matters,” she said. “But I have a gift for you. I remember you told me about the gifts new couples receive from family and friends and I wanted to give you something that was given to me when I married Oliver’s father.”

She handed me a small box that felt like crushed velvet. Inside was a necklace with a large blue stone in the center, it looked like a 10 carrot sapphire. “Oh Helena,” I gasped. “It’s beautiful!”

“All I ask is you wear it today,” she said.

“I can’t take this,” I said.

“You must,” she said. “The mother of the male child gives his life-mate a gift to show her support. It must be something that was once hers. Besides, you told me you lacked something blue and this will meet that requirement. This was mine, and I want you to have it.”

“Thank you,” I said smiling. “Can you help me put it on?”

“Of course,” she said and quickly stood up, grabbed the necklace, and put it around my neck.

The necklace was heavy. I felt it pulling on my neck and pressing on my chest. Helena kissed my cheek and pulled my veil over my face. “My son is so lucky to have someone like you, and now, to have you to become his wife, it’s a dream come true. Our people will be very lucky to have you as their Princess, and one day, as their Queen.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I hope I don’t disappoint everyone.”

“Nonsense, I’ve seen joy from so many just by you entering a room. Now come, it’s time for you to become a real princess,” she said and led me out of my room.

We walked down the hallways, Lara right behind us. Ibarra and Lilja had already gone to the ceremony. Soon, we were in our staging area, and Helena said, “I need to take my seat, but I’ve asked someone to stand in for your father and escort you down to Oliver. I know your own edirne escort father could do it, Oliver shared with me about your family. I hope you don’t mind, but when I mentioned to him about your traditions, he wanted to be there for you. I hope it’s all right.”

I smiled and said, “Thank you, who is it?”

“Me,” said a deep voice that was vaguely familiar.

I turned to see Ambassador Quez smiling at me. “Ambassador Quez?”

“I know I am not your father, nor am I from your world, but we do not get to be in our daughter’s ceremonies as they often do not have such formal ceremonies. Since I only have sons, three fine sons, and you have no father, maybe I could step in for him in on just this one occasion. That is, if you do not mind.”

“I do not mind at all,” I said fighting the urge to cry. “Thank you.”

“It is my honor,” said Ambassador Quez.

Queen Helena left and I took one of Ambassador Quez’s arms as we wait. Soon, Lara left us and we wait, alone. Maybe it was his presence but my levels of fear and panic were much lower than I anticipated.

“Prince Oliver is very lucky to have such a strong and beautiful creature to be his life-mate. Don’t let those who wish to bring you down, make you doubt yourself. Prince Oliver chose you above all others. One day, they will see what he sees.”

I smiled and said, “Thank you.”

The doors opened and the most beautiful music filled the air. Ambassador Quez and I slowly walked down the aisle. The room was filled with all kinds of creatures, some I’d met and some I hadn’t. I saw Lara smiling at me and then I saw Oliver. Even though my veil I could see his clothes. He was wearing what looked like a white tuxedo with silver trim. I was sure it was more of what he’d wear from his world, and yet it reminded me of what he would have worn in mine. His brown eyes shined at me and soon, we were standing in front of the guests. Ambassador Quez shook his hand, then placed my hand into his, and stepped away. Oliver raised my veil and gasped. I’m not exactly sure why, but I didn’t care. He led me forward and the ceremony began.

Our first kiss as husband and wife, Prince and Princess, was soft and gentle. Cheers echo from the room and I knew it was not a dream and I was now his wife. Just an hour ago, I was just plain old Alexis Perry, a schoolteacher from Earth. I stood here now as Princess Alexis, wife of Prince Oliver, and future queen elazığ escort of a world I didn’t even know existed two short years ago. We left the ceremony and entered another large room. I saw tables, plates of food, and what I would call a dance floor. After we ate a fine meal, Oliver led me to the dance floor. Soon, music filled the air, and I recognized it from my iPod. It was Journey’s “When You Love a Woman.” It was the same song that Mr. Jarvis sang the night Oliver came back and proposed to me. Oliver’s smile told me he wanted it clearly known this was how he felt about me. We moved across the floor gracefully. I felt his ring press against my fingers as he held my hand and we glided across the floor. The best part was when Oliver surprised everyone, especially me, by singing the last line of the song, “You see your world inside her eyes.”

I gasped and hugged him tightly as the room filled with cheers and applause. Later, Oliver was dancing with the Queen and I was dancing with Ambassador Quez. This was followed by more dancing and celebrations. It felt like the night would never end. I was sure this wasn’t part of their traditions, but mine. Yet here they were, Oliver’s family, Oliver’s friends, Oliver’s people, dancing and making me feel special, important, and loved. It was a feeling I’d only felt at the end of the school year when my students were leaving to move on to another grade, or another school, and I knew I wouldn’t see them again anytime soon, but they made sure I know how much they loved me. The difference was now I knew, they weren’t leaving, they were entering. Helena’s words about quieting those who gossiped about me echoed through my mind.

Suddenly, I knew, that this was what the vision of my mother and Mandy were trying to tell me. I was destined to be a wife, a mother, and one day, a queen. I knew my future with Oliver would be bright, and when the time comes, we will become King Oliver and Queen Alexis. Perhaps one day, Earth can join the federation that we are a part of, maybe not during my reign, but during the reign of our children, or grandchildren. I had finally found true happiness, with a man who traveled across the galaxy in search of that one, his life-mate, his true love, his soul mate, and found all of those in me. I wasn’t sure what I did to deserve such a wonderful man, but I really didn’t care, what I cared about his making him happy, and being the queen he believed I could be, one day. I knew with him by my side, I could be.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

I wish to thank all of you for sticking with me until the end. I know that in the future I won’t post such short chapters on this site. I hope you liked the tale of Alexis & Oliver. I may one day come back and post more including what happens with their children.

~NymphWriter

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Ch.14 : Downfall Of A Barbarian King

A new message was sent to the wizard Aribor in Bricas. He had responded to the name of Remzain, he could do no other. A meeting with beautiful Remzain was arranged. She went with Pelancirian guards in plain clothing, to stay nearby, but at some distance, so as not to alarm the Grumandrian wizard.

Aribor looked very different from the frightening barbarian sorcerer he had been when she had first been made subject to his contract on the day of the conquest. He had taken to washing, in the Shalirionite fashion. His hair, still long and greying had been cut to tidier length, and had been dyed to turn the natural greys into softer brown. He wore not the dark robe of a sorcerer of Grumandria and currently bore no arms or armour on his person. He had chosen lighter coloured robes of Shalirionite style, yellow and orange with white patterns. His formidable moustache had been manicured and he was completely beardless. It surely did appear that he had taken to many of the ways of Shalirion and Bricas, where he now resided.

They greeted each other respectfully at arm’s length, despite the physical intensity which had once passed between them. Both, perhaps for different reasons, seemed in awe of each other.

To her questions he explained his behaviour at Bricas and said he was more humane and sensible now. “I see the spell I was under with Guthelm and Valdark, but now I am reluctant to use my darkest arts. I no longer serve Guthelm. I realise the errors and the evil of our ways. Neither do I serve King Charlerion. I do not see why Charlerion should depose Guthelm and take over Grumandria. I think Grumandria should remain Grumandrian, but I do not see who should rule. I suppose it might be possible for Charlerion to carry it out, but it is no business of mine.

“Remzain there is only one deal I might do with Charlerion for his aid, and that would involve him giving you back to me. I do not see him doing that because you are very beautiful and he will want to keep you. I know this.”

“I do not think he will do that,” said Remzain, knowing Charlerion would not, but feeling insecure at the thought that her master might use her as a bargaining counter to further his ambitions.

“I do not think you want to be returned to me either,” said Aribor, showing understanding which he would not have betrayed in his past life.

“No, I do not. Charlerion treats me well, and I have a passion for him, although I do not wish to see him control my homeland.”

The wizard deliberated momentarily, “Well, if he wants my support enough he could lease you to me. That is a deal I would do to offer my sorcerous assistance. Go back to him, tell him he could lease you for a period, or give me a once weekly access to your bedchamber. Will you do that for him and for me?”

A naughty smile crept over her face. To defeat the scourge of Grumandria, to satisfy her master Charlerion, and to reward Aribor for his changed ways she might just do this. A deal might be possible. Charlerion had used her with his friends and lovers in his orgies. He might not be averse to using her in this way, as long as it was not made into a public spectacle.

“Charlerion has given me permission to strike such a bargain with you before I came here. I do this on his behalf, after all. He will not give me up for a period of time, as he wants me in his own bed and at his own disposal much of the time, but he will allow you to have full use of me for one evening in each week of a full year starting from the present moment, as long as you work hard towards the task of removing Guthelm, by killing, or by some magic which might remove all his power permanently and leave the throne of Grumandria open to King Charlerion. You are guaranteed the full year whether or not we are successful in our venture, but its continuation will only be allowed if you are successful in removing Guthelm or have had a significant part to play in his downfall by then. In the event of success you may claim another second year of weekly access. My master Charlerion will have control over where I may be on his business, but you will be guaranteed access to me on one regular weekly night. It will be up to you to be at my side on that evening wherever I may be You must leave me no later than 1 o clock of that night, and you may sometimes choose not to be at my side if you are engaged in your mission or are travelling elsewhere.”

“I can agree to that, Remzain. I desire very much to have you again. I don’t owe Charlerion anything, and I do not do any of this for him. I see this as a way to end the chaos of Guthelm. That is why I can accept this task. But it is our agreement which enables me to enter the risks and challenges of this task. It is my necessary reward.

“Can we begin our agreement now?”

“Yes we can, if that is your wish. We have clinched the deal. But first let us shake hands to seal this deal,” she insisted.

They both stood and came forward to meet in the middle, extending their right hands. At first touch they both felt the power and significance muğla escort of this contract, even though Aribor employed no magic in this contact. They kept their hands together. He was unwilling to break the contact. Finally after minutes in which they surveyed each other, she broke the contact. The deal was sealed, and now it was about to be sealed again in a more physical way. She unclasped her Animarian dress at the shoulder and turned.

“Please, unclip me,” she invited him.

He reached to her back and unclipped her. The dress fell away to reveal her slender and beautiful flesh. There remained undergarments. “Help me,” she invited. As pants fell down her legs, he spun her round to unbutton the front of the undercloth. Her nakedness was fully revealed, as wondrous as before. She had lived well these last months in the new palace of her master, but her relative youth had preserved her beauty intact. He surveyed her as crudely as he had before, but now the contract was one of equals, of free choice, despite her subjugation to Charlerion.

The ‘Old’ Aribor in Animar: Guthelm’s Servant

He entered the village, after the rebels had been put to the sword. Bodies of menfolk lay all over the village green. Eyes gouged out, stripped of their armour, and brutally executed. The soldiers divided the spoils. The village women, young and old were the only people left alive. Soldiers argued over which women they could have.

Aribor laughed at them when some soldiers started fighting each other over the pretty women. “Stop fighting you idiots. Save that for the King’s battles! If you want the same women toss a coin between you or take your turns. That is the best way, better than losing your legs or your head over a pretty woman. There are plenty to be had, enough for us all.”

He watched the soldiers take the women into the huts. Some of them shared the pretty ones at the same time, but others were unwilling to be watched while they took their pleasurable rewards.

Seeing the men take the women put the sorcerer in a lustful mood. He decided to see if he could find a woman or two. As he looked at the unselected women he realised quickly that the best looking women had been selected. The women remaining were old or unattractive in some way. These villagers were careworn and haggard by hard work and by the trials of the recent weeks of rebellion. Most of them looked older than they probably were, but this life brought them down. There were none here who appealed to Aribor as they were. He was used to fresher or more attractive ‘meat’. But Aribor was a sorcerer, a very experienced sorcerer. There were spells that could use the essence of a woman and bring back her youth temporarily. There was a cost, because the woman so used could be left weakened by the borrowing back of the years, and would return to age again within hours or days depending on the strength of the spells. The woman could be aged by the experience or would take longer to recover. The very old might die when they returned to age, from the effort of their restoration. Aribor cared not for the lives of these women. They were rebels and enemies of his King, bound now only for subservience for the rest of their lives. They might die sooner or later. It mattered little which. All of them, loyal subjects or rebels, Grumandrian or foreigner, soldier or wizard, all would die sooner or later. That made all the more reasons for him to enjoy life, when it offered any pleasure, whenever he could find it, and to live his life for the present. In an uncertain world no one could guarantee a safe future. He pledged to take the most pleasure from life when he could.

He surveyed the women. Old and haggard as they might mainly be, he did not particularly feel attracted to the younger ones amongst them, but some of the older ones had bone and flesh structures which appealed much to him. He used his insight to imagine them younger, and found a number of them much to his liking. He ordered some of the soldiers to keep a number of his favourites for him while he selected one older lady to work on. Now the fighting was over he found he relished his period of reward. He led her to a house and began his magic without further ado.

Grumandria

Lord Nathor was the Lord of lands in Grumandria. He had ridden to war for his King. He had blood on his hands for the service he had given. He and his men had killed opponents in the borderlands and the other lands of Animar, and now they saw service in distant Shalirion where his King sought pillage and conquest. He had been here some time now, and not all campaigns were proving successful. The Shalirionites were putting up more resistance than at first, and had even managed to defeat Guthelm in the Cromil valley. He missed his wife and children. He requested Guthelm to be allowed to return home to sort affairs out and see his family. Guthelm, in a rare moment of charity, did give his servant leave to return home for a period, to set his affairs in order. He returned to his homeland in high expectation, ordu escort hoping to find that all was well and his wife and children well looked after and prospering for the services he had been giving for his people and his King. He found marauders and local sherrifs had corrupted his villagers and tenants, screwing the villagers with no recourse to law and order. Some of his villains had been unjustly hung for treason. He was angry.

“When will we persuade the King to bring real justice?” complained Lord Nathor’s brother, who had stayed to manage his brother’s lands.

“The King will never bring justice,” said Lord Nathor angrily. “He does not have justice in him. I have served him for a long time and I know him and what he is capable of. He cares nothing for justice. He is the problem. We need a new King!”

Lord Nathor had decided it was time to talk to other nobles. He began to bring some others who were like minded together. Some surely thought it was indeed time to confront the King and began to discuss certain possibilities!

The Wizards : Aldareg and Eramzel

Wizard Eramzel learned that members of his family had been executed by King Guthelm in revenge for disputing their feudal dues, rents and taxes. The local people said the rents and dues were too much to bear, and when they refused to pay the additional amounts Guthelm had sent his soldiers to collect. Eramzel had come to his fellow wizard Aldareg to share his horror and despair.

“I know we have all done wrongs in the name of our King, and we have been rewarded handsomely for our work,” declared Eramzel, “but the King does not seem to know who his allies are. He sees enemies everywhere, and has them slaughtered for little reason. He wastes his own people. I tell you, when I heard this news of my family something has changed in me. I will not work for him any more.

“Aldareg, I would never have said anything against our King before, but he is not leading us well. He even slaughters his own people. My servant came to me from Grumandria, a refugee from our village, which has been given to other Knights. When he came to me he stammered and cried, and I could not reach the full sense out of him, so I made search spells, and read his mind, and saw for myself what he had seen. Screams of terror as the soldiers searched the village. They brought everyone out to the village green and raped the women while the men were beheaded cruelly, without any attempt at a swift end. I saw all my brothers slain while their wives were raped in the same place. Then the wives were sliced open and left to bleed. I was relieved that my parents are long since dead, that they should not have to witness this. The children? I do not know. Probably they were drafted into the hostels, the males to become soldiers for the King, the girls to become serving girls. Many bondsmen were turned into slaves that day, all because they could not produce enough for the King.

“None of the King’s officers ever thought, ‘here is the family of a Wizard, a loyal servant of the King. They did not consider my position in the Kingdom.”

Eramzel was well known for his own cruelty, but clearly Aldareg saw that lines had been crossed, by the King. Many wizards no longer had family, but clearly Eramzel was not one of those. He had kept his links with his original home, and had seen his people as being part of Guthelm’s Kingdom. He had fought for Guthelm, and Guthelm had fought for his people, to enrich and provide for them. So why did the King now turn against his own, and why so cruelly and ruthlessly? He thought of his brothers and sisters, his nephews and nieces, so cruelly butchered and so casually used. Eramzel had saved those cruelties for enemies of Grumandria, not for the people of Grumandria. How could he now serve a King who could so casually sanction the gruesome murders of his own people. Being a powerful wizard Eramzel had seen it for himself through the eyes of his terrified servant.

“I know you have expressed some dissatisfaction with the campaigns Guthelm has done recently and the methods he has been using, his mismanagement of this war in Shalirion. I thought I could talk to you without fear, about what has happened to my family,” said Eramzel.

“Have no fear Eramzel,” said Aldareg. “You are a fellow sorcerer. We have been colleagues for many years and I owe you a loyalty. In these times it is true our King has not been leading us well. He has grown soft, in that he will no longer fight his own battles, but gladly sends others to their deaths. He has shown a lack of judgement in recent campaigns. His justice has been unjust.

“Our atrocities at Bricas were fun, but pointless. We achieved nothing of tactical value, except to inspire fear. Our campaign up the Cromil valley showed we were not ready to venture there and we have succeeded not in conquering, but in provoking resistance.

“I hear your reports from our homeland and I hear many other stories of chaos and exploitation at home. We are like a nation tearing itself osmaniye escort apart, over lands, money, pillage, women. We have lost our way, just as Guthelm has lost his way. Perhaps we do need new leadership. I have thought it myself, I will admit.”

“You have lost no family, I presume Aldareg?’ asked Eramzel.

“Not by Guthelm. I was not popular in my family. I was like the black sheep of my family. My older brother was a bully to me and I must confess that I killed him when he drove me too far. I took his wife, but left her as I advanced in my sorcerous arts. My parents died in civil wars at the time when Guthelm conquered and reunited our land. I had good reason to be loyal to Guthelm for many years, but, as I say, the King has lost his way. He is no longer a suitable leader for Grumandria. He is not even a capable leader. When we took Cromilil I thought it a masterstroke, but it has proved a trap, and a wasted opportunity. Our army has been wasted, and we have created resistance amongst the Shalirionites. He has given much away to the Pelancirians.

“King Charlerion has been far more impressive. He is carving something out of Shalirion which will last. He is treating the Shalirionites honourably so they will serve him. His tactics will succeed in Shalirion better than Guthelm’s. His own homeland follows him loyally, whereas we of Grumandria eat each other and waste our own potential.”

“I take it that you are dissatisfied with our King, but who is there who could lead our land better?” asked Eramzel, relieved to find that his comrade no longer seemed to support the wayward King.

“I have been putting some thought to this recently. There are some Lords who would make a better king than Guthelm. Most of them would be less cruel, more diplomatic, and all would rule more effectively if they were sufficiently supported, but none of them would have legitimacy. They would represent their own possessions, but would have enemies in other parts of the Kingdom. There would inevitably be squabbles, fighting , civil war. The disunity would make us weaker still, unless these Lords could come together in alliance and choose a suitable one of their number to stand above them and create unity.”

“The normal way,” said Eramzel, “Is to pass the throne to the next in line; then there is legitimacy and acceptance. But none of Guthelm’s sons have any good qualities, and most of them have already been killed by their father.”

“The Shalirionites do not have lords in the way we do, but they do have an Empire with a succession. But the Empress does not rule. She is a figurehead. They have a council to rule in her name. The councillors are reputable citizens who are elected to represent towns, cities and country provinces. They elect leaders amongst themselves and may take turns in running the government of their Empire.”

As Aldareg spoke Eramzel was thinking that he could see admiration in Aldareg for the Shalirionite methods. “Well Aldareg I have to admit that ‘civilised’ and complex as the Shalirionite method of government may be it certainly has compromise built into it, which seems to be something we are unable to find in the selection of our own King and government.”

“Yes we know for sure that to select a new leader in Grumandria will involve civil war, whatever we do and whoever we support,” said Aldareg. “Eramzel, now that you approach me with your concerns and feelings, I will tell you that I have been approached by Pelancirian spies. You will breathe no word of this to the other wizards, unless they can be trusted to keep secrets, will you?”

“Of course not Aldareg. We speak in confidence — complete confidence. We have both already said many things to each other, which could result in accusations of treason, but we are honourable wizards and we are only speaking hypothetical words at this time. What do these spies say?”

“They bring offers and suggestions from King Charlerion. He too has had enough of King Guthelm’s leadership and is willing to talk to some of us about the possibility of replacing our King,” said Aldareg. Eramzel breathed a sigh of exclamation, perhaps of horror, of fear, or of determination. One thing was clear, their conversation had developed into something that neither wizard could ever forget. They both knew they trod a fine line in the brutal ‘politics’ of Grumandria. But they trusted each other as fellow wizards and there were probably others who might be trusted, but not all. Eramzel was betrayed and angry enough to do something about his wild King, and Aldareg had also gone far enough down this road now not to turn back. Whatever would transpire from this they would discuss it together and come to agreement upon what they chose to do.

“What did they suggest?” asked Eramzel.

“They said King Charlerion is wondering if there is a suitable Grumandrian candidate who has a good chance of having sufficient support and would be willing, one who would be able to be a good ally and partner to Pelancir, and would work with Pelancir to conquer Shalirion. He would be willing to assist someone who was suitable. Another alternative would be for King Charlerion to be promoted as a King for Grumandria, to rule the dual Kingdoms in peace and alliance. He would be fair to Grumandrian rights and traditions, as a way of creating a peaceful transition from Guthelm to prosperity and the rule of law, guaranteed by a strong King.

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Both girls got covered quickly and Nymsya stood to the side as Amy opened the door. In peaked a guard and with a blush on his face looked from one girl to the other.

“Cl-Clear” he stammered out.

From behind him appeared the bride to be. “Amy! I was worried. Something terrible happened and the castle is on full alert. We couldn’t find you and…well at least you are safe.” she said all that before she even noticed Nymsya. A vile grin appeared on her face “I was about to invite you to the safety of my quarters, but I am sure that lady here has safe dorms as well, like all guests.”

Amy’s face gained the colour of her hair. The wall matched the drapes one could say. “Wait” she finally asked “You said something terrible happened?”

The princess nodded “One of the court mages was found dead in a cellar. Absolutely massacred. A work of a mercenary no doubt.” she said “And guards didn’t see anybody leaving so they are still around.”

A silent moment emerged. Nymsya examined the princess. She donned the dress and wore a light brigandine. She was not taking any chances. Nymsya wondered what the prince is doing if his bride is running around and making sure her staff is alright.

“Anyways, I’ve got more people to check, orders to give. Stay safe and get out of here in a few minutes, we will be sealing this section of the castle soon.” the princess said and strolled off with her guards.

And so their bathtime fun was cut short. Both took a quick bath and strolled through the castle. Nymsya confessed to Amy she didn’t have a bedroom secured for them, but Amy just giggled and led the way.

They entered a chamber. Amy went first and slowly crept about. It was a poor man’s chamber but situated in the royal section. Nymsya was confused why it was so poorly decorated yet composed of three rooms. And then there was a weird animalistic odor in the bilecik escort air.

And then she saw him.

There in the bedroom sitting on a chair and partly tied to it. A piece of cloth covering his eyes. A boy barely an adult. And his pants around his ankles, hand all over his business. The royal stableboy. She saw him before. He seemed odd. And here he is, in a self tied restraints, trying to abuse his imagination.

Amy was quick. Before he heard something, she yanked his free hand back and tied it to the chair as well. A yelp escaped his mouth. “well well, if it isn’t Gary abusing himself again.” she said out loud and laughed. The boy grew red in face, rapidly approaching the colour of Amy’s hair. She gently tapped his face with her nails. “I didn’t know you had this in mind when you invited me over before the dinner. What would your master think were he see you like this?” she asked and signed to Nymsya to stay quiet.

“A…Amy?” Garry asked “Is that you? Get…Get me out of this thing!” he struggled and rocked the chair.

But Amy was having none of them and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, pinning him down. “You are going nowhere mister”

Ever so slowly Amy disrobed. She looked from Garry to Nymsya and threw her clothes over his shoulders and his lap. Last she pulled of her linen panties and pushed them against his mouth.

She bent over and whispered something to him.

Nymsya got the hint and leaned against her, her knee in between Amy’s legs. Her hands quickly grasped around Amy’s torso and her own body pushed her down slightly. Fingers pressed the small but firm breasts and a soft moan escaped Amy’s lips into the boy’s ear.

She rubbed her leg against the ginger girl’s nether region and enjoyed the warmth her body was giving her back. The girl braced against manisa escort Garry’s shoulders.

“Is…is somebody else in here?” the boy asked suddenly.

Nymsya let out a loud laugh and pushed Amy into the boy, following right behind her, landing one of her hands on her lovely behind and the other on her hair. Amy hooked one of her hands across the boy’s lap to help her stay in place, while Nymsya let out a few spanks across the butt of hers. Amy also felt the boy’s manhood pushing against her abdomen, but in her situation, the best she could do was rub against it with the spanks.

But soon, the demoness’s fingers were rubbing across her private regions, up and down, feeling up the wetness and spreading it around.

Amy felt the boy’s tongue touch her breast in an attempt to get his share, but she ignored him. She didn’t have the mental stability to help him. Instead she focused on the fingers feeling her up, the pleasure they brought with them, the apparent heat they were spreading all across her cunt and before she could stop it, one of them was entering her.

Slowly, gently Nymsya’s middle finger was pushing inside the warm and wet hole of Amy that she so desired. When she was inside to around a knuckle, she started probing around. Feeling the various parts, moving the other fingers and rubbing them on top meanwhile. Amy’s moans and motions of her hips were her rewards. But then she stopped and pulled herself off the hand.

She turned around and sat on the lap of the boy. She wiggled her hips some, and then she called the demoness back in. This time, Amy spread her legs wide and hooked them behind the boy’s knees.

Nymsya came closer and kissed the girl. She traveled down, kissing her neck, her shoulders, her bare small breasts. She toyed with her pink nipples. Bit them, licked mersin escort them, pulled on them. But finally, she moved downwards. Leaving a trail of kisses across her stomach, she finally found the prize.

Ever so slowly she continued kissing across the already wet pussy of the girl, but passing by it onto her thighs, only to return unexpectedly, only this time with just the tongue. Flicking and pushing, she followed her labia, moved in sync with the movement of the hips. She moved up. She found the clit and circled it. It was small, but very firm. The girl moaned in response. Nymsya sucked the clit with her lips for a few seconds, before her hand joined in on the fun. Slowly she moved two fingers across the entrance into her hole of pleasure and circled with them. Her tongue followed suit and soon the hips of the girl did too. Nymsya took a good look at her lover’s face and pushed in.

The fingers entered. They slid in easily. She wiggled them around the walls and continued licking at all the folds the girl’s fame had to offer.

The girl squirmed. The fingers danced. They went in deeper and then pulled back. The girl moaned. The fingers glided in again, deeper this time, with more force. Her tongue wouldn’t stop. And so wouldn’t the moans. The boy moaned too. Nymsya reached under Amy’s butt with her other hand and found his dangling balls squished behind it. She grasped them. Then she moved up. Her fingers met another one’s fingers. Amy’s hand was twisted behind her and gently rubbing whatever she could reach. Their hands met and together they rubbed the young boy’s hard cock.

Meanwhile Amy’s juices flowed out onto Nymsya’s freshly washed body. Her neck was practically covered in them and so was her hand. She added a third finger and the girl’s hips got into a rhythmic movement. With every move came a moan, louder than the one before. The girl took a lot but, in the end, she finally came all over the demoness’s invading hand. At the same time, she could feel the boy’s manhood tremble and shoot its load into Amy’s palm.

Nymsya stood up and used her wet hand to grasp the girl’s neck and press it tightly. She kissed her on her lips and bit into her tongue.

Now she was hers.

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Ben Kidder sat on his bed, swarmed by a host of questions that arose in his mind after advancing from level nineteen to level twenty. The biggest was how it could have happened at all. He could feel two extra slots for ninth level spells and room for a forty third spell inside himself so he knew it was just as real as him being a sorcerer in the first place.

He got up and waded through the piles of boxes until he got to his bedroom desk. He moved some boxes around and opened the desk drawer. He pulled out his rulebooks and sat back down on the bed to consult them.

He remembered that his character in the game campaign had lacked just six hundred experience points to reach level twenty and he guessed that destroying the robots and unintentionally frying the climbing psychos must have provided him with the experience points he lacked. He found the idea of gaining experience points and leveling up in real life to be very freaky, or he would have, if his freakiness gauge hadn’t already been broken when he became a real life sorcerer.

Reaching level twenty one would require a further twenty thousand experience points, which was a tall order considering that as a twentieth level character he would get five hundred experience points for defeating characters that were at least level thirteen themselves. Characters of lover levels could net him some measly ad-hoc points, just like finishing quests could, but awarding those would be up to the Game Master’s discretion. Ben wondered how those awards would be adjudicated in real life. He imagined an archangel sitting on a fluffy cloud and consulting D the Familiar Spell feat that would enable Felicia to cast one spell a day, or the Spell Knowledge feat that would grant him two new spells of his choosing. He smiled.

“So, there is a way to learn new spells, after all,” he thought.

As he read on, he learned that the Familiar Spell feat required his charisma to be 25 for Felicia to cast spells, thus making it impossible. If he ever advanced to level twenty one, his best choice would be the Spell Knowledge feat. He returned his efforts to figuring out what level twenty brought.

Becoming level twenty wasn’t that big a change after all, he realized. It brought him one point to an ability of his choosing, increased his will save by one, increased his secondary attack bonus by one, gave him some more skill points to keep his skills maxed and that was pretty much that for the non-magical parts of his character sheet.

The real changes were the ones to his spell list. Aside from the two additional ninth level spell slots, he could choose his newest ninth level spell and, since this was an even numbered level he had advanced to, he could replace one spell he had in his repertoire with another spell of the same level. More than half his spells had their effects subtly increased from now on. Some would last longer, some would affect more targets, cause more damage and so on. To his regret, Greater Teleport still brought only six additional passengers.

Ben chose to put his point of ability score to dexterity, bringing it up to sixteen, which would increase both his bonus to hit with a ranged weapon and his armor class by one, making him more likely to shoot straight and less likely to get hit, all at the same time.

He wondered if he could research new spells and add them to his repertoire. Picking a spell from the Handbook required just a thought; he didn’t know what creating a new one from scratch would require. The section of the Dungeon Master’s Guide on creating new spells was quite tight-lipped on the subject. It clearly allowed for new spells to be created, given enough research, materials and time, but it only warned against those spells being too powerful for their assigned level and offered ways to make the spells too costly to be used all the time. Since, to the best of his knowledge, there weren’t any magical libraries in the real world, his only chance of researching magical spells was to meditate on the ones he already knew. He felt that those spells were too few and too similar to one another to give him any proper insight into creating spells he’d like to be able to cast.

As titillated as he was by the possibilities that creating custom spells presented, he decided to shelve them, for the time being. He had more pressing matters to attend to, so he decided to choose a new spell from the handbook.

The choice of spells was easy. He replaced Cone of Cold with Fabricate, a spell which allowed him to transform 200 cubic feet of some raw material into a finished product made exclusively from that material. The volume of material dropped by a factor of ten if he worked with raw minerals, and he couldn’t make things made from more than one material, but even so, his chances of getting stinking rich by repeatedly casting this spell were pretty much exactly 100%.

His new ninth level spell was Shapechange, bayburt escort which was the most powerful spell in the whole book, as far as he was concerned. With this spell he could assume the form and abilities of every kind of creature he was familiar with, including all the magical ones from the Monster Manual. By transforming into a dragon, he would gain the ability to cast all the arcane and clerical spells from the Handbook and that would doubtlessly allow him to craft new spells to his liking and learn them, if he ever gained another level and took the Spell Knowledge feat.

He couldn’t use the Shapechange spell to imitate other people, but that was pretty much the only limitation the spell had. That, and him needing a jade circlet worth 1500 gold pieces as a material focus to cast it with. He was going to cast Fabricate to make the circlet after acquiring the necessary amount of jade.

The spell lasted for 200 minutes after casting and he could change form every six seconds. If he felt like it, he could turn himself into a flea and then a giraffe and back again repeatedly, just for the sake of looking at something from two wildly different perspectives.

The two spells turned his frown upside down and lifted his spirits all the way to low earth orbit. The mere thought of using them made him as giddy as a little boy in a candy shop.

He felt Lisa complete the spell drawing in the den, so he set aside his rulebooks and went there to read it. He cast Read Magic and glanced at the mineral prism he pulled out of his belt. He picked up the drawing and silenced the chatting girls with a raised hand so he could study the spell in peace.

It was similar to the one that had been cast at the army base but, unlike that one, this one was still running, still gathering energy for its caster and he needed to know why. He was particularly concerned with the fact that he had dispelled the spell at the army base with a regular Dispel Magic spell, but even a maximized Greater Dispel Magic spell failed to undo this one. The spell had constructed another piece of a larger whole and Ben compared its most relevant parts to the first one.

He held both drawings next to one another, comparing and contrasting them. As he started with the central symbols, his Spellcraft and Knowledge Arcana skills made him realize that those two also spoke of how the spells in sequence related to one another. Ben then mentally rotated and overlaid the spells according to the central symbols. His blood ran cold as the pieces started fitting right before his mind’s eye.

“Holy crud,” he whispered.

“What’s the matter, Ben,” Lisa said with a concerned tone.

“I know what they’re making,” he said.

“Well, what is it,” Raven asked. The other two girls were eagerly waiting, as well.

“It’s a portal,” he said. “They’re trying to summon The Outsiders to this dimension!”

The girls gasped in shock. “Can we stop them,” Lisa asked.

“In theory, yes,” he said.

“And in practice,” Krista asked.

“In practice,” Ben said and faltered. He found the scale of the portal’s construction staggering. “In practice, not so much.”

The girls exchanged worried looks. “Why not,” Krista asked

“This portal has been assembled with more than five hundred spells like these two,” Ben said. “This here, what I’m holding? These are among the last pieces of the portal’s functioning frame to be assembled. If I’m reading this correctly, and the central symbols say that I am, then there are only two more spells to be cast and that’s that. The portal’s completed.”

“Fuck me,” a shocked Raven whispered.

“Two more freaking spells and that’s it,” Krista yelled. “Two more spells and it’s game over!? These Outsiders, these death-worshipping, unknowable beings of power come here, to Earth!?”

“No,” Ben said as he realized he was missing something. “No, wait! In two more spells, the portal is completed, but it will still need to be activated. Turned on, so to speak.”

“And what does that entail,” Krista asked.

“Well, I’m not too sure,” Ben mumbled as he rotated the spells in both his hands and his mind’s eye. He was trying to extrapolate what they would look like with two more spells placed over them. After a few moments of concentration, he got a clear mental picture of how power would flow through the finished portal. “Well, in order to start up the portal, they’d need to demonstrate power over human life at a time when the natural flow of power to our realm is disrupted.”

“The fuck does that mean,” Raven said.

Ben shook his head in dismay and said, “I don’t know.”

The girls began to debate his words while he stared at the spell drawings, trying to decipher what they meant. Felicia jumped up on his desk and said, “Boss, if I may?” He glanced at her and nodded. “Demonstrating power over bartın escort human life is magic speak for human sacrifice, our realm is Earth and the natural flow of power to it is sunlight, so what you said means that-“

“They need to sacrifice an innocent person during a full eclipse over hard ground,” Ben finished her sentence for her in an astonished tone as he realized she was right. The girls stared silently at him, for a few seconds, and then accepted his conclusion as true.

“When’s the next full eclipse over land,” Krista asked, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

A brief scuffle ensued as all four of them reached for the laptop. Felicia jumped off the desk to get out of their way. “Stop,” Ben yelled. “My computer, my quest, my house, my web search!”

The girls backed off to sit on the couch while he sat at his desk and went online. “Ok,” he said, “according to Wikipedia, the next full eclipse visible from land is next year, March the twentieth, and it only hits the ground in the Faroe Islands and Svalbard.

“Where are those,” Raven asked.

“North of Europe,” Ben said. “At each location, the eclipse will only last a little over two minutes.”

“How big are those islands,” Krista asked.

“Too big,” Ben said. These cultists would need just a few minutes to draw their spell, giving him only that much time to find them and stop them. As soon as the sacrifice’s blood landed on the drawing, it would be game over for Earth.

“Are the last two spells going to be cast there,” Lisa asked.

“I don’t know,” Ben said, “but I sincerely doubt it. It makes more sense to do those two spells anywhere else in the world and not there. Why draw attention to the one place where you gotta be before you have to be there? I’m certain that whoever is behind all this mess will be there, come March, waiting for the Moon to obscure the Sun before killing someone and activating the portal. And they’ll orchestrate two more massacres before then.”

“Giving us two more chances to stop them before the big showdown,” Krista said.

Ben’s eyebrows rose up in response. “Look who’s completely on board all of a sudden,” he said. “Didn’t you quit and lead a walk-out the other day?”

“That was before I knew the world was about to end,” she said, “along with everyone in it.” She looked at Ben questioningly. “Right? I mean, that’s what happens if this portal gets opened and these Outsiders come through? End of the world?”

“Pretty much,” Ben said. He sent Raven the order to tell him everything she knew about what would happen once The Outsiders came to Earth.

“I don’t know anything about that,” she said. “Simon had agreed to summon an avatar of the Outsiders to Earth in exchange for his magic, the magic that you now have, and he told me that The Avatar would end all wars and strife on Earth. We would also be elevated to positions of power.”

Krista snorted and said, “Yeah, can’t wage war if we’re all dead.”

“There will be no reasoning with these cultists,” Ben said, disappointed. “They’re probably dead certain that they’ll be made rulers of the Earth if they succeed.”

“No, no, no, no,” Krista said, wagging a reproachful finger at Ben. “Get all ideas of talking sense into them out of your head, Ben! These people have spilled so much blood already that it’s just impossible for them to stop. Whatever conscience they have, it’s been silenced by the screams of the dying long ago. Playing to their humanity won’t net us anything.”

A pall fell over the room at her chilling words.

“So, we’re all in agreement, then,” Lisa said. “This portal must never be completed and the cultists must be caught and dealt with most severely!”

Everyone solemnly nodded.

“Yeah, but we’re hardly equipped to deal with them on our own,” Krista said. “I mean, we’ve got one girl that can see active Outsider spells and one sorcerer. We can’t tell anyone about this, can’t call on anyone for help and we’re not exactly rich in resources at our disposal.”

“Well,” Ben said and cracked a grin, “that’s about to change!”

“What do you mean,” Krista asked.

Ben was about to tell them what his new spells did, when the runoff valve of the spell caught his eye. It was ever so slightly different than the one the previous spell had. He read the two, side by side, and barely stopped himself from swearing out loud.

“Oh, dear,” he finally said. “I think I know why the spell is still running.”

“Why,” Lisa asked.

“It’s left on to take the life force of anyone the escaped lunatics kill and reroute it to the caster,” he said.

“But, you stopped them all,” Lisa said. “Only one got out and you caught him! You tossed him back inside!”

“What if there were more,” Ben asked. “Quick! Turn on the TV! This has to be on the news by now.”

Simon was sitting in a café, drinking coffee, ığdır escort and barely suppressing his scorn for the meaningless insects sitting around and blowing empty air out of their mouths. “If they had an inkling of how insignificant they all are,” he thought, “they’d all march off a cliff like a bunch of lemmings.”

He supposed that there was a benefit to their delusions of importance and meaning. Those kept them alive and well for the day of reaping, which was soon to come.

“Oh, my God,” a girl at the next table exclaimed to her friends as she looked up from her computer screen. “Plainview is somewhere nearby, right?”

“The mental hospital,” one of her friends asked. “Sure. It’s seven miles away, deep in the woods. We used to go there as kids and-“

“They’ve had a breakout,” the woman exclaimed, interrupting him. Many others in the café also turned their heads her way for a moment, before sticking their faces into their own computer screens and typing the same words into the same search engine.

Simon couldn’t help but grin. His consecrated warriors were loose in the countryside. Their murderous impulses were maximized by his spell and each innocent life they took was going to add to his power. More than that, the panic their rampage was going to cause will degrade humans’ belief in their society, just as the robotic rampage at the base made them give up on the use of robots in war zones. By the time of the eclipse, he was going to both complete the portal and crumble the barrier further. “The title of Prime is mine,” he thought to himself.

“No, no, it’s ok,” a man loudly said. “They caught them all! It’s all over the news. They were stopped before they could get away.”

Simon’s grin froze into a grimace of disbelief. “How could that have happened,” he asked himself. “I gave those stupid idiots every advantage possible! I gave them all they needed to get away! What a bunch of fuckheaded, shit-for-brains, backwards, fuckwad idiots!”

The big screen plasma TV in the coffee shop was switched to a local news channel and the volume was turned up significantly. The local police chief and a representative of the FBI were answering questions at a press conference and they assured the public that no one escaped from the criminally insane ward, despite the heavy loss of life in the facility itself.

Simon stood up and left in an angry huff. He couldn’t believe his luck. He had thought that he had staked his power on the worst of the worst, and it turned out that he had squandered it all on the dumbest of the dumb, instead. Their inability to simply exit an undefended gate was so infuriating that he would have burned the whole town down to the ground, if only he had the power for it. He had poured all that he had into casting the spell that consecrated them and used the deaths of the staff and non-violent patients to construct the element of Fire.

Just as he was about to end the useless spell, he was unexpectedly hit by a surge of power. He smiled in relief. At least one of his consecrated warriors had escaped law enforcement notice and had just finished killing someone, sending him their life force. He decided to leave the spell running. He needed all the power he could get and there was no harm in leaving it spinning at the base of the tower. It wasn’t like anyone could see it.

He went to the car he had appropriated when he had killed the former owner and got in. He was going to need to gather up a lot of power for the next spell in the sequence and that meant killing a lot of people on his own. His safest bet was to drive to a major city and kill hookers. Human society paid no sympathy or attention to murdered hookers. There would probably be no investigations. He started the engine and drove towards the interstate.

The girls and Ben were relieved when the news said that no one had escaped from the institution. There would be no more death. His spell of Greater Dispel Magic was stronger, now that he was a level higher, and he decided to go back to the institution and see if it could get the job done this time.

“I’m going back there to try and end this spell once again,” he said. “You’re coming with me, Lisa!”

Lisa stood up and waited for him to cast Invisibility on them and then teleport them to the gate. She confirmed that the spell was still in place and Ben cast a maximized Greater Dispel Magic against it. Just as before, it made absolutely no difference. He teleported them back to his den and ended their invisibilities.

“Well,” Krista asked.

“No joy,” Ben sadly said. “The frakking thing is still spinning.”

“Is there nothing you can do,” Raven asked.

Ben shook his head and sat down at his desk. He took another look at the spell drawing, but knew he would find nothing new in it.

“Maybe whoever cast it died in the asylum,” Raven offered.

“Nah,” Ben said and indicated a line of symbols on the spell drawing. “Without a recipient, this component of the siphon part of the spell wouldn’t be active anymore. It’s still spinning, so the caster is alive and well.”

An uncomfortable silence ensued as he reread the spells. Krista interrupted it by saying, “You said, before, that our resources are going to change. How so?”

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The stories in the “Celebrity” section of Literotica are all fictional parodies – none are true, nor are they approved of by the celebrities named in the stories. Authors write these fictitious stories about famous people for the same reason that Larry Flynt made fun of Jerry Falwell, because they can. The Supreme Court of the United States, the country where this site is located, has ruled that parodies involving famous people are perfectly and totally legal under the United States Constitution. The specific case law on this was decided in the case of “Hustler Magazine, Inc. et al. v. Jerry Falwell” in 1988. No harm is intended toward the celebrities featured in these stories, but they are public figures and in being so, they must accept that they are fair target for parodies by the public. We believe in the first amendment, and more broadly, in the basic principle of free speech and this section may push the boundaries of that principle, but the United States Supreme Court has approved of this type of material. We believe that the Supreme Court was correct in their decision.

Orc Invasion Ch.4

The battle had been won, the horde army gathered at their encampment in the Arathi plains. A giant bonfire had been set in the middle of the camp as the sun was setting. A cool night breeze passed as the army prepared for the events of the evening, events that would further solidify the Horde’s victory over the alliance.

Trogg walked from one end of the line to the other, smiling a crooked smile as he examined the captives. He was very satisfied, his army had done as he had asked. All the men from the alliance were killed and tossed into the river to be dragged by the current. All the women on the other hand, both human and night elf, were captured, their eyes bound and their bodies dragged into a line formation in front of Trogg. Many of the men behind him cheered and hollered as Trogg examined his specimens. While many of the human females were not as tall or well endowed as the night elves, their sexy, curvaceous short stature made them very desirable, especially by some of the hulking Tauren that were eyeing them, licking their lips, a lustful look in their eyes.

Vessamoon, the Night Elf Paladin Sergeant who led the female troops to battle with such fierce energy. Now stood in front of the enemy army, bound and unable to see anything. The cool night breeze passing through her braided blue hair, sweat dripped down her well toned, muscular body. Her whole body shivered from fear, not just for her life, but her whole troop’s life. She had found it very odd that the horde had decided to spare the women while they slaughtered the men. The horde would normally leave no survivors, it scared her to think that the only reason for them being spared, is so they could be tortured and killed slowly.

Amongst her troop was Vessamoon’s little sister Mina, four years younger than her, Mina had definitely inherited the same curvaceous body as her older sister, while her breasts were not as big as her older sister’s, they did often make men turn their heads for a second look. They may have been sisters, however, they were complete opposites of each other. While Vessamoon, or Vessa as Mina would call her older sister, was strict and tried to remain in shape. Mina was more loose. Rather than braiding her blue hair like her sister, she preferred a sexy pony tail. She would also rather spend time with her friends at a nearby hot spring rather than train as strictly as her older sister. Vessa’s life was that of preparing for war. Mina on the other hand, would rather spend time with friends.

Next to Vessamoon stood the second in command and Vessa‘s best friend, Elia, another paladin with a voluptuous red hair, held together into a bun. She had penetrating green eyes, a curvaceous body with a milky white tone to her skin. Elia too preferred to keep her curvaceous body in shape, but not nearly as strict as Vessa. She was now trying to choke up the fear and keep it bottled inside, she had seen many of her comrades die today, she felt lucky though, her husband was currently based elsewhere and did not suffer the same fate as the men did in this battlefield.

All three of the girls listened in fear, hearing the whistling and hollering as they were displayed as nothing more than eye candy. Feet tramping on the ground as Trogg continued walking from one end of the line to the next, examining each and every girl, licking his lower jaw, “Mmm… such fine females.” Trogg said grinning a crooked grin. His men behind him joined him in a laugh that sent shivers down the spines of all the girls in the line. Twenty women, Trogg counted, twenty of both the human and night elf race, for an army of 50 lust filled horde men of all four races. Orc, troll, tauren and undead.. This of course did not count some of the few horde women who planned on joining in the events of the evening, just so they could get back at the alliance.

“I’ll take the red one” grinned Thurs, one of the Tauren generals, pointing towards Elia, the Paladin Sergeant. Trogg looked back and nodded his kütahya escort approval at the giant beast. Thurs stood at a massive seven feet tall, his body rippled with muscles that were covered by black fur. A top his head were two massive black horns, signifying his leadership as a Tauren. He also wore a gold nose band, and his long black mane was worn into two thick braids on his shoulders, and another braid under his snout. His eyes were a penetrating, blood thirsty red. A long ugly scar ran through the length of his face. His body, while well built and massive, had the scars of many battles. His blood thirsty demeanor had tried to find crueler ways to get back at those cowards from the alliance, and after hearing Trogg’s proposition. He couldn’t have agreed more. What better way to have revenge on the men from the alliance than to take their women and make them their servants. Thurs couldn’t help but have a broad wicked grin spread on his face as he saw the young woman tremble. He knew that little human woman wouldn’t go back to the alliance after he had his way with her.

“Mmm… this one looks tender.” Said Rall, the Troll army’s general with a crooked smile as he ran his hands across Mina‘s hair and face. Her whole body shuddering at his touch, tears of fear and sweat running down her silky light purple skin. “Mmm I’ll definitely have some fun with you.” he laughed. Rall also had penetratingly red, blood thirsty eyes. His hair was a flaming red mess, and he stood at a little over six feet tall, at least he woud if he didn’t slouch as most Trolls do. His blue-ish green body also rippled with muscles, and battle scars that could be plainly seen as well. Two big and curved tusks jutted from his mouth. Just as with Thurs, this symbolized his upper rank in the army, and the golden nose ring simply solidified this position.

Trogg chuckled in approval, then licked his lips as he saw the strong one, Vessamoon. He eyed closely her well muscle toned body. “Mmm… this one.“ Was all he said as he ran his thick green fingers over her face, down to her chin. Delighting in the fact that she was trying to show her strenght even after being defeated. He knew she would be a great challenge, but all the better he thought to himself. “Mmm I bet you’re wondering what is going to happen to you? Don’t you?” he whispered mockingly into Vessa’s ears, she turned her head away in disgust, feeling the Orc general’s breath on her face. “Don’t worry she-elf” he chuckled mockingly. “Soon you will continue on living… as our servants” he said with emphasis.

“I’d rather die! You filth!” Vessa said trying to gather as much courage as she could muster.

“You don’t have much of a choice she elf” Trogg laughed. “believe me, if you choose death, I will personally make sure that it is slow and painful” he grinned, Vessa kept her head turned away from the foul beast. He turned to look towards Mina and could sense the fear permeating through her body. A crooked smile spread through his face, “Or maybe we should take this little one’s life instead? Would you be able to bear going on living knowing you were responsible for her death?” He chuckled.

She knew he was more than likely talking about her little sister. “What will you have me do?” she said finally defeated. Vessa could never go on living she was responsible for her little sister’s death.

Trogg grinned victorious, “You and the rest of your troops will be the horde’s new servants.” He said running his finger through her chin, “and by that, I mean you will serve us in ANY way we please” he said with a chuckle as he grabbed Vessa’s hand and violently placed it in his loincloth, where his bulge was starting to show. The rest of the army joined him in laughter.

Violently Vessa pulled her hand back, horrified now that she knew what were their plans, worse yet, it wasn’t just her that would be used, but her whole troop. Her attempts to save her sister and the women in her troop seemed all to be in vain. “Never!” she yelled at the foul beast as her final attempt. “Never would I allow it!”

Trogg pulled the cloth over her eyes so she could see. He stared at her intently, his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed, the grin he wore on his face now replaced with a more menacing look. “You don’t have much of a choice now she elf! You had already agreed to it.” with a wave of his hand, the Orc soldiers behind him took three steps back, and fifteen undead soldiers took their place. Trogg looked at Vessa with penetrating eyes, her whole body, as well toned as it was, was now felling like jelly as it succumbed. “Alright boys, get ready!” he ordered, the menacing look replaced again with an evil grin. Twenty Troll and Orc captors stood behind the women, Rall taking his place behind Mina, and Thurs behind Elia. grabbing them tightly, waiting for the Orc general’s order. Smiling a crooked smile, Trogg moved behind Vessa and waved one of his hands again signaling the twenty captor’s behind the women to remove the blindfold from their eyes.

Rubbing their eyes, malatya escort the women tried quickly to regain their senses and look about where they were, the darkness of the night blinding them momentarily. But before any other moves were made, they stared straight ahead and there in the darkness, fifteen pairs of glowing eyes stared at them and loud cackling from the undead were heard as they tormented them. While they tried their best to move, they couldn’t. The human and night elf women had been taken by the fear paralysis effect that many suffer when looking at the undead straight in their eyes. Mixed with the undead laughter was also the laughter of the Orc general. “Wha- What’s happening? Why can’t we move?” Vessa uttered.

“As I said she elf… you don’t have much of a choice now” grinned Trogg as he whispered into the night elf’s long, slender ears. He waved one of his hands again towards the undead. Five of the fifteen stepped forward, they were the casters, they all joined in a strange chant while the women remained still due to the paralysis. Soon a heavy purple mist lifted from the ground right beneath the line up. “It’s a spell,” Trogg uttered again in her ear. “No matter how strong you may think you are she elf, you will succumb… this spell allows your body’s arousal level to increase, soon you won’t be listening to your conscience, but to your body’s desires, no one can escape it.” he grinned wickedly.

There was a look of horror in Vessa’s face, she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t move due to the fear paralysis and now this spell would make her finally succumb to the Orc’s wishes. She could already feel her pussy start to get wet, her knees becoming weak.

“Bring the breeder.” Trogg commanded. “Now you will see what I mean by becoming our servant she elf!” he grinned. “We already have one of your kind who willingly came to us.” Vessa closed her eyes, not wanting to believe it. “That’s right! What’s more, she’s even willingly become one of our breeders and is now pregnant with Orc child!” He kept tormenting Vessa. “Soon you and every single one of your troops will follow that path.” he said, running his tongue along Vessa’s cheek, leaving a trail of slime and spit. “You will do it willingly too.” he promised the stubborn night elf.

The effects had become stonger by now, the level of arousal was such that, already some of the women started emitting low moans as their bodies started betraying them. The whole Orc army laughed triumphantly. Trogg didn’t need to order the captors anymore, already the Troll and Orc captors had begun tossing the women’s armor to the floor, leaving them only in their skimpy thongs and bras. Orc and Troll hands were running across the naked flesh, teasing and caressing their breasts with one hand, while sliding the other hand down their captor’s thongs and teasing their captor’s already wet pussies.

Vessa was the only one so far that had tried to fight her urges the most. Trogg was fondling her breasts with one of his thick hands, while teasing her already wet pussy with the other. As good as it was feeling, as much as her body wanted it, she kept fighting. That is, until she saw the breeder, Yunie, finally arrived at the scene. Yunie was being walked out in front of the line up by a leash attached to her slave collar. Snake, his tongue hanged, now with now lower jaw, was doing the honors. Vessa looked horrified, the Orc was right, she had become a slave, and a breeder, pregnant with child.

“I heard you were having the time of your life with Snake” Trogg grinned as he addressed Yunie. “Maybe I should let you be Snake‘s personal sex slave and breeder.” he laughed as he continued teasing Vessa‘s engorging clit. Yunie‘s cheeks flushed red, nodding in approval to Trogg‘s wishes. She was to be Snake‘s and would serve only him unless he said otherwise. If Snake could speak, he would express his approval. “Why don’t you show your friends all the ‘benefits’ you’ve had since joining the horde” he grinned maliciously as he tore through Vessa’s thong and bra, tossing them to the ground.

Yunie only giggled, her cheeks flushed. “Very well master.” She replied, then eagerly knelt in front of her new master, the mouth less monster, Snake. She grabbed the band of his pants with her teeth and cooed seductively as she brought down his pants with her mouth, his already growing cock springing to life. Hungrily and without hesitation, Yunie started licking and sucking the length of the hard rotting piece of flesh, she licked down to his hanging balls, engulfing them one at a time into her hungry mouth before going back and engulfing his cock again. Moans and groans of pleasure from both Yunie and Snake were heard as she kept putting on her show for the soon to be sex slaves and breeder’s of the horde.

The musky scent of sex created by the spell was now becoming overwhelming, most of the women by this point were now willingly grinding their pussies against the savage invading hands. Even Elia and Mina were now reaching back towards their captors, batman escort and stroking their growing cocks, Thurs let out a triumphant bellow as Elia willingly stroked his 15 and a half inch, slimy, red pointy member out of its furry sheath. Rall laughed shrilly as Mina willingly stroked his long green-ish cock up and down and fondling his heavy balls with her other hand. Vessa was seeing all of this occurring around her with disbelief, she looked at the breeder in front of her with anger. “Traitor!” she uttered, “Traitor!” again louder so Yunie could hear.

Yunie turned to face Vessa, not really bothered by what she said. “Me? You should look at yourself darling” she giggled, then happily went back to sucking Snake’s cock humming as she bobbed her head up and down the fleshy member of her undead master.

Vessa looked down in between her legs, she could see Trogg’s fingers wet with her pussy juices. Yunie was right, Vessa had called Yunie a traitor, but at the same time, she was calling herself a traitor. As much as she hated to admit it, her whole body was completely aroused by the whole scene. Before she knew what was happening, her body also started to respond to Trogg’s finger inside her soaked pussy, and she let out a loud moan as he touched her spot. Trogg laughed triumphantly, he had broken her. She also saw her little sister had been broken too. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her little sister Mina, bending down in front of the foul Troll, and was willingly stroking his cock up and down and sucking on his big mushroom head. Vessa looked towards her friend Elia, and saw her also willingly stroking the giant Tauren’s fleshy pointy rod in her hands, what’s more, she was also engulfing the red slimy cock in her mouth as well, humming seductively as she bobbed her head up and down the fleshy tool. The spell may had taken control over the rest of the women, but Vessa tried to fight it as much as she could. She turned again towards Yunie, and saw the breeder already on her back, splaying her legs wide, moaning in pleasure as her undead lover started pounding his hard cock in and out of her pregnant pink pussy.

“Mmm… this one’s a real cock slut” Thurs said triumphantly, the long thick braids of mane swaying back and forth, touching and teasing the red head’s milky white breasts. He stared down at the voluptuous human humming and sucking his slimy cock. He grinned wickedly as he focused on her hands and saw a glint from her ring. “A married slut too!” he exclaimed victoriously, the horde had given a nasty blow to the alliance, they had defeated their army without casualties, they had taken their women captive, and what’s more, he was now being serviced by a sexy married paladin. Grinning victoriously, he placed a heavy hand on the back of her head, and bucked his hips in and out, shoving more of his pointy cock deep down her throat as he cackled loudly, his Tauren men joining in laughter.

Vessa’s cheeks flushed red as she heard the Tauren have his way with her friend. She couldn’t deny it either, her body wasn’t letting her. The whole scene was getting her hotter and hotter, she was willingly grinding and moaning as Trogg engulfed one of her supple breasts into his mouth, while continuing to finger her hungry cunt with the other.

“Omm… you should learn to relax hun.” she heard Yunie say, “All your friends are having fun, why shouldn’t you? Besides, Orc men have bigger cocks than those wimps from the alliance anyway.” She said as she giggled mockingly. She was right, Vessa thought to herself, and she could obviously feel it from Trogg’s raging hard cock pressing against her ass cheeks.

Another moan was heard, this one from her sister Mina. Vessa quickly turned towards her, shocked at what she saw. Mina was one her hands and knees, moving the thong to the side, looking back at the ugly Troll general over her shoulder as she wiggled her firm ass invitingly. Her legs were spread, exposing her pink pussy, the blue pubic hair trimmed into a thin triangle shape. Vessa couldn’t believe what she was seeing, her own little sister was bent down on the floor, slapping her ass cheeks invitingly as the cruel Rall approached the young night elf with his long 13 inch cock. “Come here big boy.” called out her sister with a lust filled giggle. “Come here and show me what REAL men can do.” She laughed seductively.

“Mina!” Vessa exclaimed in disbelief.

“Relax sis,” Mina giggled, “besides, it’s not the first time I’ve been taken by members other than the alliance.” she smiled. “You should see what a whole gaggle of Goblins and Murlocs can do.” she grinned lustfully. Vessa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her whole body shuddered and quivered. She couldn’t contain herself anymore.

“You hear that Trogg?” Rall said, addressing Trogg in his Trollish shrill tone, “Goblins and Murlocs! Guess this little slut won’t be hard to convert after all.” Rall laughed victorious as he grabbed on tight to Mina’s hips. “Get ready slut, because once we’re done with you, you won’t go back to those cowards from the alliance OR to that gaggle of Goblins and Murlocs.” He promised, Mina looked back, giggling lustfully as she wiggled her ass invitingly again. Rall took his queue and inched his long greenish cock inside the night elf’s wet pussy, the walls contracting and expanding invitingly, letting out moans of pleasure as the troll invaded her welcoming pussy.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Author’s Note: This story takes a bit before it gets to the sex. If you’re looking for instant gratification, look elsewhere. Big thanks to VeeBird for taking the time to help me out with editing. As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the story.

Spoiler Tags: Reincarnation, Harem, Magic, Soul Mates, Kitsune, Monster Girl, Transformation, First Time, Shyness, Submission, Orc, Adventure

Prologue

The explosion tore apart my unit, shaking the sky with the force of the shockwave. Shielded by my lieutenant, I only felt a fraction of the blast, and even that was enough to rattle my brain. My muscles shook as I pulled myself out of the dirt. The shaking was not from exhaustion, although I had trouble standing minutes before. I was trembling from an explosive mixture of rage, despair, and resignation. My sadness was not for my comrades, recently released from their duty. No, my tears mingled into the sweat and blood on my face for the void that they had left within me upon their passing. Suddenly, I felt no weariness, fear, sadness, or emptiness. All I was left with was an inferno twisting inside my chest. It fueled my muscles, and I was in turn fueled by the frantic beating of my heart that was trying to escape from the cage of my chest. I felt as if I would explode from the intensity of the blood raging through my body.

I started channeling my mana, my body acting on well honed instinct. The voice inside my head that pleaded for caution burned away, fuel to the fire in my chest, roasted in the pyre of my need for vengeance.

They would pay for this, I am no longer weak, no longer will I let others dictate my life.

I would etch my worth into the center of the forces that opposed and stole them from me. Pulling off my helmet, I knelt to the earth and drew up what remained of my power from the dregs of my soul.

This would be the last spell I would ever cast. The energy necessary to sustain my life sacrificed to its completion.

My life for a chance at vengeance… I accept. Not like I had other options anyway.

A silver energy like a vaporous liquid mercury pooled in my hand as I started to fashion the essence of my soul into a weapon of malice. There would be a grace period before reality would catch up to claim its debt, and I would use this time to complete my final mission for my squad. The silver energy coruscated as it spun in a double helix in both directions until it was a rod nearly five feet in length. The light gathered at top point of the rod and pulsed briefly blinding in its brilliance. Instinct directed my arm to dip the haft into a pool of blood oozing out of my late lieutenants lower half. When I raised the spear the liquid had coalesced into a winged spear tip. The tip gained bright crimson along the wings before darkening into a sinister obsidian point. That point seemed to slice the fabric of the air as it drifted, following my trembling arm, leaving a echo of black streak in its passing.

The tip was an embodiment my comrades rage and hunger for vengeance. Its core consisted of a piece of my soul into which I poured the remainder of my mana. The central shaft let out pulses of brilliance through whorled patterns engraved on its burnished silver haft as the spell was completed. This artifact of immeasurable strength would be the pride of mastercraftsman mages ten times my strength, too bad it only cost one’s life to achieve it. Taking a deep breath, I looked up from the spear, eyes scanning my surroundings. Looking for targets.

~ ~ ~

The marauders emerged from the forest to look upon the devastation their ambush had wrought. A mishmash of people, obviously poorly nourished and dirty from so much time spent in the wilderness. They cheered as they saw how successful their trap had been. A man better dressed than the others, with a jeweled sword pommel strapped to his side and a belly that showed no lack of victuals, turned to the band.

“You have done well today my friends. The traitorous fiends who support the subhumans shall continue to feel our blades until the world is cleansed from it. Upon that day we shall return home as heroes to embrace our loved ones in a world made safer by our actions.” The captain finished his speech and stared out at his band of twenty. He noticed they were not cheering in their usual reaction to his rallying speech, and were instead looking over his shoulder at the explosion crater. The dust had begun to clear, revealing a lone man, blood running down his ears, staring intently at a silver object in his hand.

“Shit a mage”, he swore to himself. “We need to kill him before he kills us all.” The captain pulled his sword and let out a war cry and started to charge at the enemy, galvanizing his forces to action.

The mage didn’t seem to notice the lives that poured into the ground; his eyes simply trace the whorled loops that the sparkling tipped traced through the air. When that pattern intersected artvin escort with flesh and bone it didn’t pause or slow, it continued on its way, unhurried and unstoppable.

~ ~ ~

I moved in a seeming bubble of muted silence as the spear twitched, half guiding itself through the intricate dance.

Sever an arm. Remove that leg. Duck the sword Break that axe while splitting his neck.

Reading the battlefield as if I’d lived each moment a thousand times, like an old dance with an beloved partner, knowing each and every motion, every step and dip the other would take before they even performed it. The enemy numbers dwindled under my assault, their remaining number growing evermore horrified at my relentlessly efficient reaping of lives. Only twelve of the initial twenty something were now standing on the battlefield. Friend and foes limbs and viscera mixed in the dirt as the enemy force started to break and flee from the battlefield.

I continued slaughtering my opponents long after they’d given up the fight. A bloodthirsty grin pulled up the corners of the my mouth.

I will show them how right they were to fear magic. They will, ever so briefly, know what it means to be hunted.

Pulling a ceramic necklace out of my shirt I grasped it tightly before throwing it to the ground. I looked around counting fleeing figures that had thus far escaped my wrath.

Four. Easily within the capabilities of my rainy day charm. I brought my foot down on the teleportation charm and vanished with a thundercrack, the air collapsing into the vacuum of space I just exited. One after another, the fleeing fighters had the greatest shock of their life as they watched a man appear out of in air before a glittering light with a tip of darkness burst through their chest. The final marauder gave what sounded to be a sigh of relief as I pulled the spear from his chest and he collapsed onto his face, his eyes already staring lifelessly into the distance, a jeweled sword falling from his limp grasp.

A seeming eternity of action finally ended as my eyes refocused on my surroundings confirming that I was standing alone at the end of a trail of carnage that both disgusted me, yet also filled me with a tainted sense of satisfaction. Like a candle running out of fuel the anger inside of my flickered before extinguishing, leaving me hollow. I was upright for a single fraction of a second before a crashing tide of sadness and weariness capsized me. I sank into the dirt as the weight of loss crushed to me to my knees. Staring into the falling rain, the world seemed to mourn with me, the tears falling down my cheeks echoed by the leaves of the tree I knelt under. The darkness at the edge of me vision creeped inward as I crawled closer to the tree that was riddled with pockmarks from the explosion, lightly smoking as curling wisps of smoke crept out of the darkened holes. Leaning on the tree, I slid to the ground, finally releasing the spear as I welcomed the encroaching darkness to the forefront of my mind.

A pair of golden eyes emerged from the brushes across the valley from my unconscious body. The eyes were attached to golden fox who had watched the ambush and subsequent extermination with some interest.

~ ~ ~

I had never seen such an violent display of magical mastery in my twenty three years of life. Looking around cautiously, I ensured that I was alone before creeping forward into the valley. The magical weapon next to the fallen man drew my attention, it’s bloodlust quieted, now radiating a steady outpouring of settling magical power, distorting the air with its raw energy. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of exploded gunpowder and the pungent copper of freshly spilled blood.

A subtle scent underneath the blood caught my attention, I filled my lungs to capture as much of it as possible, the scent luring me into deeper and deeper breaths. Then the realization struck me like an edict from a god, one of the particularly smitey ones.

No. Nononono. Not now. Not with him, I thought, hurrying to the fallen man. The smell of cinnamon and honey flowed into my lungs as my soul thrummed in proximity to its counterpart.

Bonded. My bond-mate is in danger, I thought, frantically shifting into human form to check him for wounds.

A hazy image superimposed itself over the fox like heat waves radiating off a desert dune and where once a fox crouched now a young girl stood.

Not quite reaching six feet of height, I had sharp features that were softened by my silky brunette hair that fell unencumbered around my face. The same burnet color could be seen on a sleek tail that sprouted from my lower back, and hung slack and lifeless, trailing along the ground with worry. The color of the tail lightened to a creamy white at the tip which was currently sweeping the dirt in agitation. Not seeing any obvious cause for unconsciousness aydın escort I opened my aural sight to check his energy levels. Hyperventilating in distress at what I saw, I frantically pulled his limp form into an embrace, the void in his soul damning him. I tried to desperately pour my energy into him but it just slid off of his ingrained defenses to foreign magic.

Sobbing into his neck I felt his body twitch and I started, a bud of hope blossoming. His eyes opened for a second and I stared in surprise. Locking onto mine, his deep blue eyes had a small circle of dusty brown encircling the pupil. I shivered as I felt a whisper thin tingle, uncoiling in my stomach, accompanying a deep thrumming noise as the fledgling mating bond established itself. Like a well tuned guitar strings the bond thrummed with the harmonic energy of creating between us. He blinked up at me, his eyes slowly flapping up and down like a butterflies wings, as the tears slipped down my face falling onto his chest. His lips gave a small twitch somewhere between a smile and a grimace before closing his eyes and falling limp in my arms. I wailed my despair into the universe, the soft drizzle of rain onto the ground it’s only response.

~ ~ ~

I slowly drifted back to awareness, amazed at the lack of pain, expecting an unbearable agony agony at the spiritual hole in my metaphysical self. Even more amazing was the realization that I was being held by someone. Soft thighs caressed my back and I felt a gentle warmth on my neck. Summoning my will, I barely managed to wrench my eyes open. I was rendered twice mute by the sweetest sight of my briefly remaining life, the softly angular features of one of the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Tufted triangles poked out from the top of her head and a soft tail whipped across my thighs in agitation. The most striking thing about her were her light brown eyes that bordered on golden in the drizzling rain. She was a kitsune, one of the elusive fox ladies that was part of the demihuman magical creatures I was fighting to protect.

I hope the sundering is successful so that the world won’t be deprived of this kind of beauty.

Tears splashed down her face as I tried to smile at her reassuringly but the inexorable cold collected in my chest and pulled what little warmth that remained from me, as well as my consciousness, into the void for the final time.

~ ~ ~

I saw his spirit slowly slip out of his body as he fell limp. I braced myself for the aftershock of the shattering bond, clutching his body to my chest. The stories told me it was incomparable torment as half of your soul was ripped from you leaving tattered remnants floating in the aether. Then… nothing. The fledgling bond held true, its warmth still radiating deep in my core. A relieved giggle that edged on hysterical burst from my chest.

He would return, his soul had not gone to its final rest.

A smile lit up my face.

He would return and I would be there to finish we’d started. But first… a burial.

~ Jack ~

Startled awake, I clutched my chest, soaked in sweat and breathing fast and shallow.

Damn, dying in dreams always leaves me unnerved. What a dream. It felt so realistic, such emotion, that deep and encompassing rage. Followed by the inevitability and resignation as I slowly slipped away.

I shivered slightly at the recollection. Wiping the moisture off my forehead, I tried to control my breathing, and, through that, control the nervous sweat so I didn’t look like a junky suffering from withdrawal during class. As my panting slowed, I tasted the air experimentally as a scent tickled some forgotten memory. It smelled of woodsmoke and citrus as it danced through my senses. Shrugging, I dropped the elusive scent from my thoughts, the lingering memory of the dream fading.

Pulling myself off the bench I had been using as a makeshift bed, I slung my makeshift backpack/pillow over my shoulder, making my way out of the study room. My mind was still haunted by the desperation I saw in the golden eyes of my dreams.

What had she needed from my dream self?

The thought kept my attention as I drifted through my calc one course, letting the professor’s voice filter unimpeded between my ears. I wasn’t worried about falling behind as this was mainly a review from the calc course I had taken in high school. The only reason I’d chosen this course was to ease myself into the college life. New living conditions, no friends or family and brand new freedom were heady enough drugs that I felt I could use a course that I didn’t have to worry about. It helped that I wasn’t in a rush to get done with college, and my full ride scholarship was dependent on grades, so a couple of freebie courses were not going to go amiss. I was a loner in a strange place and my first attempt at reaching out to a potential friend had been an balıkesir escort unmitigated disaster. I slouched more firmly into my seat as I contemplating the view of those deep golden eyes, disturbed by the sadness in them.

~ Tara ~

Strolling through the campus of a state college, I tried to puzzle out its name while I watched nubile young faces as they wandered around, lost during their first weeks of classes.

This makes me feel less lonely. Which is kind of depressing considering I’m alone in the crowd.

I sighed wearily. Many years and miles had passed without anyone special, and the loneliness hung heavy on my mind. Although, I had reason to hope my solitude would be soon come to an end. My naiad friend Lily had dropped me a mysterious voicemail mentioning the ‘weave’ and this campus.

Whatever its name is. It won’t hurt to hang around awhile. Not like I have anywhere better to be. Although auntie might say otherwise.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved my aunt, it’s just that sometimes she could be a little… intense, and sometimes I took any opportunity I had to put some distance between us.

I lied down onto a public bench, the sun kissing my skin and warming it in a luxurious fashion. Closing my eyes, I listened to the soothing chatter of pedestrians as it mingled with the light breeze.

I awoke lying full length across the bench. My dreams had been full of the one and only contact I’d had with my bonded. Although the events went differently than the tragic past. In my dream, I’d managed to save the dying man, quickly wooing him and the moment before we consummated, my excitement drove dream away.

Sighing loudly, I draped one hand over my forehead, shading my eyes from the setting sun. It was among the more pleasant variations of the recurring dream, although, as always, I was frustrated that it’d left me on edge.

What wouldn’t I give for just five more minutes?

Wiping away a spot of drool that had encrusted the side of my mouth I blinked away my last vestiges of sleep. Yawning, I stretched my hands out over my head and rolled my neck to relieve the stiffness. The wind was blowing slightly stronger then when I’d fallen asleep, shifting directions in a temperamental manner, as it often did here in the midwest. My stomach grumbled slightly as it protested my neglectful treatment. Easing myself off the bench, I started towards the campus union, hoping to pick up some food before heading out of town. I paused, muscles tensing, holding me absolutely still as the shifting wind brought the whisper of his scent to my nostril. I barely dared to hope. Snuffling brought the scent more firmly into my sinuses and taste buds.

Honey and cinnamon. I’ve waited so long to taste you again.

I breathed deep, the details of the scent causing me to shiver involuntarily in anticipation, like an addict cat taking a hit of the catnip. I abandoned my strolling walk, stalking the scent, following it’s path as it led away from my impromptu napping spot.

He walked right past me and I missed him.

The scent was relatively fresh and I didn’t want to lose him…again. He was close and my wait was finally over.

~ Jack ~

Yawning, I maneuvered my way through the union hallways. My nap had done little to combat my recent proclivities of late night video gaming. Normally, I liked to walk outside, but the currently gusting wind had tried to drive it’s chill deep into my bones, and forced me to seek shelter. The wind usually made a nice contrast to the muggy humidity of the fall, but this wind had a hint of the imminent winter’s bite. Mentally steeling myself to go back into it’s chilly teeth, I rounded the last bend that led outside, the hallway acting as a runway to the entranceway. I noticed the tall woman rushing through the door, but kept my head down. Her hair had blown about her head in a frazzled manner, the beautiful brown tresses a sacrifice to the greedy wind god.

I smiled at the silly thought. Using my peripherals, I tried to look a little closer, without being obvious about it.

She stopped in the middle of the hallway, blocking my progress. She was almost as tall as me, probably somewhere around five-eleven a shade under my six-foot even. She wore nondescript tennis shoes that led to jeans that were tight on her shapely curves, while still remained tasteful. A plain black v-cut t-shirt with short black sleeves topped the ensemble by hugging her generous assets. This all was noticed in an instant but ignored in favor of the burning pools of golden amber that were locked on my with a fierce intensity. I swallowed around the awkwardness of getting caught staring.

Also, why does she look like she wants to eat me?

~ Tara ~

The scent now filled my mind. I was drowning in the sweet scent of honey and cinnamon. Stopping in the hallway, I took note of the scrawny young man standing in front of me. He had short brown tresses that draped about his head in an unconcerned fashion, falling just on the wrong side of needing a haircut. He was thin, but not unhealthy, in his appearance. He wore a pair of running shoes with loose jeans and a baggy shirt advertising some band I was unfamiliar with. I locked eyes with his hazel ones as I felt the buried bond quiver and start to unspool.

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