Tandy didn’t have sex thoughts, let alone daydreams. But she was having one now. And it was an exceptionally good one. There were chains and exotic oils and all sorts of exciting things related to her captivity.
The Wasteland Butcher was the most skilled imaginary lover she’d ever had.
How… strange.
This required further research.
“What!?!” He finally exclaimed in irritation, snapping her back to attention. “I’ve been sitting here for five minutes waiting for you to finish that sentence!”
“Oh.” She rearranged herself in her seat, feeling suddenly hot and uncomfortable. She pulled at her snowsuit, irrationally afraid her tight breasts were somehow visible. The idea of him seeing them just made them feel tighter though, which exacerbated the concern. She fought the strange urge to just unzip the outfit and show them to him. Give her flesh to him like some sort of gift.
Imaginary Tzadok was making a meal of her hard nipples while she tried to have a normal conversation with actual Tzadok. “Have you? My apologies.” She paused. “You are a very pretty man and I was distracted.”
The room became quiet as a grave.
He raised his eyebrows expectantly.
She stared at him silently, once again imagining him inside her, while she pitifully begged him to never stop thrusting. His large hands running over her desperately wet body, claiming her as his property and taking possession of…
“What were you going to say!?!” He demanded again, sounding frustrated. “Out with it!”
“Oh.” She frowned slightly. “Was I saying something? My apologies. You are a very pretty man and I was distracted.”
He put his palms up to his troubled brow, and leaned back in his chair, letting out a groan like he were the most put-upon person in the world.
“No, no… wait. I remember.” She assured him confidently. “I was going to say that I’m not crazy.”
He looked at her for a beat. “Then I’m starting to think Parens wasn’t the only person who makes shit up, Green Thing.”
“HA!” She threw her head back in delight, finding that positively hysterical. Imaginary Tzadok was laughing too, momentarily pausing his ravaging of her. He really did have the most beautiful imaginary laugh. It was one of his best imaginary features. “He was such a fool, wasn’t he!?! Remember that time he…”
“I don’t know who that is.” He told her flatly, cutting her off. “So, most assuredly, no. I don’t remember ‘that time.’”
She frowned. Huh. That was… odd. She had an excellent memory. But it just seemed… right somehow that Tzadok would have been there. In fact, it was like he’d always been there.
Her brain was retroactively inserting him into her life, in spirit.
Whoa. Creepy.
Once again… Tzadok made her feel weird things.
From a scientific standpoint, that was a very interesting phenomenon.
Rationally, it should be terrifying to feel like you had spent your entire life in the constant presence of a homicidal madman, but from the standpoint of publication, traumatic bonding and feelings of companionship with your captor was a very exciting subject matter.
Granted, her field was languages, but this opportunity simply could not be past up!
She scooted forward on her chair, excitedly. “Do you have the general impression that there exists a strong emotional connection between us, including but not limited to empathy, sympathy, sexual arousal and friendship, despite the highly irrational nature of such feelings given our situation? And if so, how intense would you say those anomalous positive emotions are? On a clinical scale from one to ten, one being ‘mild’ and ten being ‘extreme’?”
He stared at her in shocked silence again, then simply put his head in his hands and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He ground his palms into his eye sockets. “Pedals in the breeze… pedals in the breeze… calming fucking pedals in the gentle fucking breeze…” He took several deep breaths. “She’s just crazy… Don’t get upset… Don’t get upset… Rise above her weirdness… You’re Lord of Salt, you can do this… You’ve faced down inhuman armies and powerful mystics, you can deal with one tiny green woman…” He took several calming breaths and refocused on her, now more composed. “I’d say… ‘Two,’ maybe?” He decided dryly. “’Three’ when you’re not spouting unadulterated insanity. Which isn’t often.”
“Excellent.” She nodded, pleased with that data. She grabbed her notepad which she’d brought from Galland and recorded that finding. “I would say I’m at… ‘Four.’”
“Wow. I’m really winning points somehow.” He deadpanned. “Lady’s man over here.”
“Your anger is oddly arousing.” She admitted. “It shouldn’t be as attractive as it is.”
“Be prepared to experience near constant ecstasy then, Prize.” He informed her. “Because you’re rapidly rising up the list of ‘Things Which Inspire Oddly Arousing Anger from Me.’” He paused. “In fact, you’ve been kind of pissing me off since you got here.”
“I know. It’s very exhilarating.” She agreed. “I’m as confused as you are about it, no question.” She casually lifted the large iron collar she was wearing and slid it over her head, lock and all, as it had been designed for much burlier people and it didn’t fit her properly. It was so clunky though, and she wanted it gone simply so that she could get a better view of her notes. Yes, that probably was technically against the social customs here, but she thought a special dispensation could be granted given the exciting scientific discoveries being made.
Tzadok watched the bonds as she set them down on the chair beside her. His brow furrowed in bafflement and incredulity again for some reason. “You can’t…” He began weakly, then stopped. “You can’t just… like…” he gestured at the chains helplessly. “They’re…” He made a sound of disbelief and weakly held out his palms.
She talked right over him. “’Four’ is a very high number for me, you’re absolutely right.” She continued. “Usually, I’d be at a ‘One’ or ‘Two’ with any man, if I noticed him at all, which isn’t likely. But I’m currently having vivid daydreams about intercourse with you. Now, granted, you are obviously an exceedingly pretty man, but it’s still very peculiar for me to care. Handsome or not, I don’t usually imagine having wildly acrobatic anger sex with a man, but in your case, that seems to be a near constant event for me…”
His eyebrows shot up. “Wait, what?” He shook his head. “I… I think you used the wrong words there or…”
She ignored that, continuing her thought. “…and I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that I’m on the verge of viewing your lack of physical abuse towards me as an act of kindness during my captivity, rather than focusing on the very real threat of violence or the wrongness of the abduction and enslavement in the first place.” She nodded persuasively. “I would hypothesize that indicates a stronger than expected emotional tie, even if it’s a dysfunctional one.” She paused. “Thoughts?”
The tent was silent for a beat.
“Huh.” He finally got out.
“That’s it?”
He nodded humoringly. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m also thinking I’m being very tolerant and merciful for not simply killing you. I had no idea I could be so patient with a lunatic. Usually we decapitate them to release their damaged minds from their torment, or abandon them on The Great Nothing to wander and die. I’m at a ‘Four’ for me too now. I’m awesome.”
“I’m most interested in the odd feelings of sexual arousal though, obviously.” She observed, looking for a theory on that and wanting his input.
“Me too.” He deadpanned. “Let’s experiment.”
“Interesting…” She wrote that down. “Would you say that…”
“What did you do?” He snapped impatiently, cutting her off. “Why are you here? It has to be for some reason other than these bizarre lies. You’re just trying to distract me with your insanity and brazenness, but it�
�s not going to work.” His eyes hardened again. “How does someone like you end up leading an invasion of my lands?”
She continued journaling her thoughts about him, mostly recording fantasies she was experiencing and what she wanted him to do to her, then circled it in a heart. “Oh, I wasn’t in charge, I was just…” She looked up at him, suddenly thinking of something. “Would you say that the feeling of intense sexual attraction was immediate or did it manifest over time? As in: was it something like ‘Insta-Love’ or would you say that it’s the natural result of the previously existing emotional component, represented in the data points we’ve already collected? Because I’m trying to work up a rough timeline of the symptoms and…”
Tzadok made an annoyed sound and stalked from the room before she could finish.
She scowled down at the empty space on the page.
She was just going to put down that his symptoms were “instantly” exhibited.
Why wouldn’t someone want to have sex with her immediately? She was the most important interpreter in Galland! And now she was also the de facto official interpreter for the royal court of The Wasteland, which was quite the feather in her professional cap.
Success was a natural turn-on for men, after all.
Although… perhaps she should record his data in Wastelandi, in order to give it the most precise and accurate construction, since it was his native tongue.
She pursed her lips in thought and decided to ask him about it when he wasn’t so moody.
Chapter Four:
Dark as Hate, Bright as the Morning
“She’s insane, Uncle.” Tzadok informed Kobb seriously the next day, catching him up to date on the grim spectacle which was life in the village now. “She scares me. I think she’s dangerous. I genuinely do.”
The man frowned. “The little girl?” He turned to look at the dark-haired woman in question, who was quietly seething in the corner, twisting her iron ring around and around on her finger. The she-beast was eyeing the sheers Kobb was using to trim his plants, obviously scheming to somehow steal the utensil and kill all of humanity with them. “She’s just standing there.”
“She’s plotting to stab us.” Tzadok pointed out bluntly.
“Yes, of course.” His uncle went back to working on his traveling garden. “But everyone should have a hobby.”
“And no, I didn’t mean her, although the same observation applies. I meant The Green One. Tandrea.” He insisted, finding that he liked that name more and more. “She is completely unreasonable and spouts the most bizarre and distracting nonsense.”
“I like her.” Kobb observed conversationally. “It’s so rare to meet someone with such nice manners. In fact, in The Wasteland, it’s rare to meet someone nice at all. So few people appreciate the lost art of conversation anymore.”
“She’s hiding something.”
“Yes, so you’ve said.” Kobb carried several plants over to the other side of the open air structure, so that they could get sunlight. Nothing grew in The Wasteland, since it was a salt desert, but that didn’t stop his uncle from trying to nurture life from anything he could anyway. Most of his tireless efforts at botany were rewarded with unmitigated failure, and even on the rare occasions when something actually did grow, the resulting plants were bedraggled and shabby in Tzadok’s opinion. Horrid ugly things, better off dead and forever nameless to the gods. But Kobb didn’t seem to mind. “I can’t imagine what though, even if that were true.” He carefully started to trim back more of the dead leaves and limbs, grooming one of the plants into something new. “If you want my opinion, I think you just want her to be hiding something. Because it would let you spend more time with her without having to think about what that means.”
“I worry for the continued safety of our people.” Tzadok defended. “That is an entirely rational concern for The Lord of Salt to have.”
“Uh-huh.” His uncle sounded doubtful.
“I speak the truth.”
“What could a tiny green woman ever hope to do to you, Nephew?” Kobb waited for an answer for a beat. “Nothing. She’s as harmless as a flower pedal or a warm breeze. …Unless you want her to do something, that is.” He nodded knowingly. “She presents us no threat of attack as an individual.”
“A woman who looks like that is either dangerous enough to keep men away on her own or is protected by someone very, very scary, Uncle.”
“She says she’s not.”
“I don’t care what she says. Look at her! She’s fucking gorgeous!” He shook his head. “You ever see a woman that pretty before?”
“Yes.” Kobb answered immediately. “I have.”
Tzadok resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the obvious lie. “Well, either way, her people will come for her. They’ll come because they need her to survive. If they don’t, it means there’s a very powerful man out there who will miss her soon. The kind of man who will drench the world in blood to have her back.” His eyes narrowed. “We should begin preparations for his attack. Mark my words. Her man is not someone to trifle with, I can feel it.”
“Perhaps he was one of the men you just annihilated.” Kobb suggested. “You killed a lot of her people.”
Tzadok scoffed at the idea. “Any man worthy of her would have been a better warrior than those dogs. A child could have slayed all of them.” He made a resigned face, imagining the scene. “No, her man would be someone whose anger would blot out the sun. We would know of his arrival to our lands because the very foundations of this earth would tremble.” He turned back to his uncle. “I truly believe he would ride some kind of titanic serpent, swallowing armies in its deadly jaws, while he laughed from his bejeweled saddle. Anyone less than that would be unworthy of her.”
He nodded grimly. Yes. That was the type of man who could possess and hold something as truly unique as Tandrea.
Tzadok would be ready for battle when he appeared though. That man would taste fiery Wastelandi steel before he ever got within five feet of Tzadok’s Prize again.
Kobb nodded, admitting the point. “Personally, I still doubt she belonged to anyone before she came to us. She is… innocent. And in either case, I see no reason to worry about that, unless and until the man and his hypothetical serpent monster appear to reclaim her. I’m afraid her presence here has severely weakened our position in regards to our allies however.” He looked up at him. “The Coastal People will not forget. They will try to break your will, fully turn our allies against you, and retrieve that which they consider theirs.”
“They’re not going to war just because that dishonorable runny-shit Hawser thinks The Green One… Tandrea,” he corrected, “is pretty and I took her first.”
“Would you?” Kobb asked bluntly. “Would you have gone to war with them, had they whisked her away before you had the chance?” He went back to his flowers, already knowing what Tzadok’s answer would be. That he absolutely would have, no question about it. “Don’t discount pretty things, Nephew. More people have been killed over beautiful things than for all the territory and resources in the world.” He looked down at the plant, his voice taking on a far-off quality. “Pretty things remind us how precious they are. Delicate. Needing of protection. Make us feel alive again and like we have purpose in this uncaring world. Pretty things… are the reason why we want to be alive.” He cleared his throat. “No one thinks such things about a bag of flour or an important seaport.”
Generally, Tzadok trusted his uncle’s advice on things, even if he didn’t always personally believe it. “So, what would you suggest?”
“We need to sure up our position.” Kobb decided after a moment. “Create a situation where they would be fools to go against us.”
“They’re already fools.”
“A fool can wield a sword just as well as a scholar.” Kobb straightened his plant. “The fact that it was a fool who slayed you is merely an additional mark of shame, it doesn’t make you any less dead.”
“I’m not giving her back.” Tza
dok told him once again, just in case that was somehow on the table. “She’s mine. I took her, she’s crazy, she’s still mine.” Thinking about Hawser’s hands on Tandrea instantly caused Tzadok’s teeth to clench. “I will kill Hawser.” He stated matter-of-factly. “Soon.”
“Yes, I know you will. Obviously. He touched your woman. Killing him is what honor demands. Granted, she wasn’t yours at the time of the actual touching, but that’s immaterial in cases such as this.” His uncle sounded completely at peace with the idea. “And I am not suggesting that you give Tandy back. I told you: I like her. She’s yours. Which means she belongs to the Saltmen and is under our protection, no matter the cost. And I don’t want her to go anywhere. Certainly not to the Coastal People, who are…” he paused to find the right words, “unlikely to find her as charming as you and I do.” His uncle looked up at the dark-haired demon and began to absently instruct her in proper gardening habits because he knew she was watching. He started using exaggerated movement of the sheers and his hands to draw her attention to the important points of the craft, so that she could follow along.
“Then what are you suggesting?” Tzadok demanded, sick of his uncle’s constant games.
“You must learn patience, Nephew. Think the matter over and the answer to your problem will come to you.”
“I don’t want to think it over, I came to see you so that you’d tell me!” Tzadok snapped, on the verge of losing his temper. “This is ridiculous!”
“Caaaaalm…” Kobb held up his hands and breathed in and out. “A truth told is never as effective as a truth discovered. Have more faith in yourself. You’ll think of an answer.” Kobb decided.
“That’s the kind of shit you always say when you don’t know what to do either.” Tzadok informed him. “You know your ‘wizened sage’ act pisses me off, old man. When I want someone to speak to me in riddles, I will consult a mystic or a sphinx.”
Kobb ignored that observation and refocused on the foreign girl. “This is a ‘Coastal Raeko.’” He told the girl proudly, still trying to teach her about his hobby, despite the fact she didn’t understand a single word of Wastelandi and had nothing but white-hot contempt for the entire race of man and all his works. He gestured to his favorite project. “Isn’t it pretty?”
Captive of a Fairytale Barbarian Page 9
